Fart story one-shots 2!

The Long Night

Jacob awoke with a gasp, his arms and legs tied to the chair he was sitting in. He frantically looked around the dark room he was in, and his chair wobbled on the floor as he struggled, trying to free his limbs. But his efforts were fruitless. She had tied him down good, as always. She knew her knots.

"Not this shit again," he muttered to himself, staring at the ground.

He recognized the room he was in. It was the room he was always in, the security room of the Gotham museum of art. Jacob worked the night shift as head of the security in the museum, and he was exceedingly good at it. Gotham city might be an absolute cesspool, but since he'd started his job, the number of art robberies a year had gone down to zero. He ran a tight ship, and improved the lax security protocols put in place by his less than capable predecessors, even going so far as to install a state of the art digital security network so that the security systems of the building couldn't be hacked.

And then she came along. It didn't take her long to crack everything, and he'd watched helplessly as all of his systems failed, letting her waltz into the building without so much as a beep, with all of the worlds precious and priceless art ripe for the taking. He'd sat up in this very office, sweating, watching the live camera footage as she strutted through the building, and it had become personal for him when he saw her going out of her way to touch as many paintings and sculptures as she could. She only took one little Egyptian necklace, and left everything else in its place, even though she could've taken anything. He wasn't stupid, he knew she was taunting him.

Then he'd watched as she started heading towards the security office. The door had opened, and the woman had walked right in as if she owned the place. She'd stared him down, and then he'd watched helplessly as she walked right past him, and bent forwards to access the computer terminals, erasing all of the footage taken that night. Then she'd turned towards him, leaned towards him, and-

He shook his head, telling himself not to think about that night. He was already getting hard, his cock stiffening in his pants as he struggled to get his arms and legs free. Excitement filled his chest, the kind of excitement that feels like arousal and fear mixed together.

He gazed across the dark room, looking to his left. The door of the security room hung wide open, and he knew she had left it intentionally like that, to drive home the point that she'd been there. Next to the door, on the wall, was a heart drawn with lipstick.

His cock twitched a little more.

He told himself he couldn't allow himself to get excited like this. She was playing him intentionally, he was just a means to an end. She was using him. He told himself this over and over again, she was just using him. She wanted him to feel this way, this is what she wanted to happen. But part of Jacob couldn't help but think that this was what he wanted to happen too.

He turned his head to the right, looking at the desk across from the door where all the computer monitors were. Since the first night she had broken in and humiliated him, she'd been back twice. After the third time, Jacob realized that it didn't matter how expensive he made the security programs, she was going to get through. So he realized he needed to plan for her in a different way.

He'd attached a razor to the desk. After shooting a glance towards the open door, he started bouncing across the floor towards the desk, the wooden legs of his chair hitting the ground with a clunk noise. He reached the desk, and the legs of his chair made a scraping noise as he turned himself around. He felt his wrists press against the razor, and he started rubbing them against the blade, hoping to cut the ropes wrapped around them.

Progress was slow, because he was careful not to cut his arms. But eventually, the ropes binding his hands to the chair were cut enough for him to be able to tear his arms free. The ropes snapped apart, falling onto a pile on the ground, and Jacob brought his hands to his lap, rubbing his bruised wrists. He kept his eyes on the open doorway, his gaze wary. After a few moments, he reached down and untied his ankles, freeing his legs.