Emma is a very fit woman in her mid thirties, towering over most other people at 6'4. She has blue eyes and long brown hair, which she usually ties in a bun. Her voice is on the low end, and quite authoritative when she intends it to be. Her family lives far away but she has a lot of friends in town, most of whom look up to her as a strong resilient woman. She was the manager of a local thrift store, but aspired to much more, having a master's degree in economics. After graduating, she had briefly worked as an advisor for a medium sized company, but after it went under she struggled to get another job. After some odd jobs she landed on that store, and her people skills made her rise to manager pretty quick. Though she wanted more. More than anything, she wanted money, and the power and freedom that came with it. But money was tight, so until she found a better job she had to find other alternatives.

Making the decision to break the law was easier for her than for most people, fearless woman that she was, and went shoplifting for a few weeks, along with skimming money at her workplace. But that quickly got boring, plus it lacked some very helpful anonymity. The last thing Emma needed in her life was a police record. So she moved to stealing cars at night, but on her first attempts she tripped the alarm and got frustrated. She finally decided on trying her hand at burglary, her riskiest but potentially most profitable endeavor. This is how her first attempt went.

She dedicated almost a month to preparing the job. She prowled the suburbs looking for a viable target, heavily researched lock-picking and alarm systems, spent more hours than usual at the gym, and also took rock climbing every weekend. The outfit was also something to think about, and she rummaged both her own closet and her store's inventory, before coming up with a black turtleneck sweater, a pair of tactical pants and boots of the same color and a ski mask. The whole outfit made her feel slightly embarrassed, like she was dressing cheaper than usual. But they were work clothes after all. She also gave use to the workshop in her garage and fashioned a lock-pick and a crude glass cutter. She also bought duct tape and some rope, just in case she met resistance. Besides her fitness, she was also a decent martial artist, so she wasn't too scared in that regard. Plus she lived in a state with strict gun laws and fewer gun owners than the national average, so that was a load off her mind, though she was still careful. On her growing tool kit she added a water bottle and some snacks for the idle moments and some first aid essentials just in case, and put it all on her gym bag. And with that, she was all set.

The chosen house was a modest single floor one, but with a decent garden. There was no dog or visible alarm system. The owner was a divorcee in her late forties named Vicky, who worked at the local bank. Emma saw her sometimes at the gym, knew she was much shorter and physically weaker, a blonde little thing that had trouble with the lowest weights. There was no problem if she had to overpower her. And it was a likely scenario, since Vicky was very much an introvert and liked spending her free time at home, and Emma wanted to strike at night. Not wanting to prepare forever, Emma put on her sweater, pants and boots (all over some comfy sports underwear), put the gym bag in the trunk of her car and drove to the house at 2 in the morning.

She stopped a few blocks away, taking in the stillness of the sleeping neighborhood, breathing deeply, focusing. She put on her ski mask (which blended with the turtleneck making her look like a twisted version of Batgirl), got her bag and walked towards the house. She carefully stepped into the driveway, gravel crunching gently beneath her feet, and circled the house. She stopped before the modest back door, laid the bag on the floor and produced her homemade lock pick. The lock was not very secure but, being a novice, Emma had to finagle for almost five minutes until she could breathe a sigh of relief when the door clicked open. Pushing it the hinges creaked ever so slightly, so Emma slid in without opening it all the way. She found herself in a small kitchen, dirty plates piled in the sink and some food scraps and a half full glass of milk on the counters. She pushed into the house, stepping into a living room that had a messy couch, a cluttered coffee table and a flat screen TV. on one of the walls there was a tall shelf with books and some family pictures, and a small wooden box. Emma took mental note of everything that looked valuable and started looking for the bedroom. It was easy enough, since only two rooms were unexplored and one of them has a toilet and a shower. The bedroom door didn't creak, and Emma saw Vicky fast asleep, cocooned in her blankets. She placed the bag on the floor and got a roll of duct tape, then got closer to the bed. Emma's heart was pounding, half from excitement and half from fear of being caught. She slowly pulled the blankets away from Vicky, leaving her exposed in her tank top and pajama pants, then used her nail to peel open the roll of tape. In a swift motion, she jumped on the bed, turned the woman on her belly and sat on the small of her back.

"What the fuck?", shouted Vicky, thrashing and looking around, "Who are you?"

"Shush, be quiet", said Emma in her best impression of a German accent, and put her hand over the woman's mouth.

"Hmmpphhh!", Vicky tried to open her mouth to bite Emma, but she just clamped her hand harder, then peeled of a long strip of tape and put it over her mouth and spun the roll around her head as tight as she could.

"Stay quiet now. I'm not going to hurt you if you behave."

Emma then brought Vicky's hands, who had stopped offering resistance. She tied them tight with plenty of tape, then did her ankles and also her knees to be extra sure. She then stepped back, looking at the bewildered and bound woman on the bed, who no longer squirmed or tried to speak, but rather laid there looking scared. Emma felt a sense of weird pride, of a job well done.

"This won't take long", said Emma, and turned around to ransack the house.

The following hour she took some jewels (from the wooden box), some spare cash, Vicky's phone and laptop and even considered taking the TV but decided against it. The only thing left, stored in the closet was a small metal safe, with a keypad to enter the password. Emma looked at Vicky, who glared back at her.

"I'm gonna take off the gag, but I need you to not scream, alright?"

Vicky nodded, and Emma pulled the tape from her mouth, leaving it about her neck like a collar.

"You fucking asshole", she said, "There are much wealthier people in this town."

"I know", said Emma, still keeping up her fake accent, "But right now you only need to worry about giving me the password to the safe."

"Please, just leave, you've taken enough."

"I'm not leaving until you do as I say."

"There's not much in there. Please, leave me be."

Emma sat on the bed, leaned into Vicky and pinched her nipples. Vicky yelped, and Emma pinched harder and twisted.

"Stop!", yelled Vicky.

Emma got up and pulled open one of the drawers of the nightstand, looking for some clue or at least something valuable. But she found something better. Among the clutter there was a small vibrator with a remote control. Emma smirked.

"You really hurt me!", she said, and looked at what Emma was holding, "You plan on stealing that too?"

"Not quite", said Emma, and laid the two small objects on top of the nightstand. She grabbed the waist of her pajama pants and her panties at the same time and pulled them down, revealing Vicky's messy and blonde pubic hair.

"What are you doing?", said Vicky, her eyes now filled with terror.

Emma put her hand between Vicky's legs and started rubbing her crotch.

"Stop it!"

"Give me the password!"

"No!"

Emma licked her middle finger and worked it into the warmth of Vicky's pussy. Her victim gasped but said nothing. Then she grabbed the toy and slowly slid it in all the way up to he flared base. Then she took a piece of duct tape and used it to secure the toy.

"Give me the password or I'll leave it on the max setting and leave you here", said Emma, looking around to see in the corner a basket full of dirty clothes and a few clothespins lying around.

"Alright! Fuck... It's 524653."

"Good girl", said Emma, rummaging through the clothes to get a pair of dirty socks, "You know, this whole place needs a bit of cleaning."

"Fuck off...", whispered Vicky.

Emma shoved the pair of socks into her mouth and looped another three layers of duct tape around her head. The woman only protested with a grunt of resigned frustration. Emma typed the number into the keypad and opened the safe. Inside, there was a bit of cash, a wedding ring and some documents, and she only left the latter. Vicky glared at her, coiled her fists behind her back. Emma went back to the dirty clothes corner and picked up two clothespins. Without warning, she jumped on the bed and sat on top of Vicky, then ripped open her tank top to expose her small breasts. Her victim once again thrashed and resisted, but Emma put the clothespins on her nipples.

"Hmmmphhh! Hmmmphhh!", Vicky glared, shook her head in rage.

"Calm down, girl", said Emma, putting a finger over her gagged lips, "You were too naughty for my liking, so I have to punish you now."

Emma zipped up and took her bag. Then she took the remote, set the vibration to max and threw it on top of the closet.

"HMMMPHHH! HMMPHHH!", Vicky thrashed and jumped on the bed, powerless to resist the potent vibration.

"Goodnight", said Emma before turning to leave.

Vicky struggled until she got exhausted. At that point she just laid there and took it, softly moaning her way to the first orgasm of that long night. As for Emma, she went to her car with the bag full, put the bounty on the trunk, took off her ski mask, and drove back home thinking about her next job.