The smile wasn't a friendly, welcoming smile. It was more the kind of smile that a crocodile might give to its prey; or better yet a spider, if spiders could smile. There was no warmth, no feeling of any kind behind it, it was just malevolent.
She was dressed in a light shift, with only pants underneath. And she had been admiring herself in her full length mirror, holding the shift tight across her bosom. She had been thinking it wasn't a good bosom, her tits were too small, the left one slightly larger. But then they were 'perky'; wasn't that the word? Perky tits, that's what she'd read in that stupid story in the mag that Jake had. Well, her tits were perky and he'd still gone off with Saffy. And her arse was perky too – she had pulled the shift tight over her buttocks; she had just been about to pull it up to look at the sculpted roundedness of them when she saw him at the door.
She nearly screamed, nearly, but not quite. That should have given him pause for thought. What nearly naked girl, finding an unknown man standing on the threshold of her bedroom leering at her, wouldn't scream? Or at least shout. He had put his finger to his mouth; but she hadn't even started to scream. She'd looked at him. There was no point in screaming, she knew that.
"Well, dear. Aren't you pretty?" She looked towards the door as he came further in. He saw and shook his head.
He was in the house, he was nearer the door; there was no escape. She and her friends played poker for fun, she was quite good. She found herself thinking "Two aces." And now he producing a flick knife from his pocket. Seemed like three aces might be a winning hand.
"How did you get in?"
"Never mind, dear. I'm here, you're here. That's what matters. But; if you have to know, for future reference like, well the dustbin round the back gives a leg up to that hall window. The catch isn't very secure on that window is it?" He waved the knife meaningfully at her. She looked confused. "Take it off, stupid. Let's see the goods" She wore the face of a frightened girl and edged towards the door. "Uh uh, don't think so my lovely. But I have to admit, I like it when they make a fight of it. Gets me horny see? I might save the cunt for later, use that lovely little arse of yours first." He waved the knife again, meaningfully. She realised that not all his penetrations would be phallic. He would use that knife, and maybe other things. She'd read about this guy.
"You're that, that guy they've been talking about. You're ... oh God! Look, I'll do whatever you want, only don't hurt me"
"Didn't you hear me? I like to hurt girls, it gets me hot, I like to fuck them while they scream for mercy. That's why I pick places like this see? No-one next door, and the empty plot on the other side. No-one will hear. Now, TAKE THAT FUCKING THING OFF!" He was barely in control of himself, she could see that. He reached into his trousers to adjust his erection. She started to lift the shift up over her head. So with one hand down his pants, and her shift dropping to the floor, he was momentarily distracted.
And then she lunged forward, her foot came up like a rugby player kicking a conversion. Straight up between his legs with all the force she could muster. She wondered later if she'd broken her foot. He screamed as his balls were squashed against his pelvis; then he screamed again as the nail scissors she had been actually reaching for when she'd made the feint towards the door slammed into his left eyeball. All this time his hand was still down his trousers, his other hand held the knife, but he was just waving it randomly now. Finally his hand came off his dick and up to his face. "Ahhhhhhh!!!! You, ahh! Fu ... Ahhh!" He didn't make much sense, but then his eye had just been sliced open by the point of a pair of scissors. She had intended to then slice across his face and take out the other eye but of course he wasn't being cooperative and was wildly thrashing about. So the next thrust instead caught him below the eye; in fact the next thrust went fortuitously straight up his right nostril and lodged into whatever bone was at the top. He would have screamed if he hadn't already been shouting as loudly as he could. But of course, there was no-one to hear.
Her hand slipped off the scissors, what with her grip being rather sweaty from fear and the point being lodged in bone. A moment of thought and she grabbed him from behind and began to propel him. He made the mistake of thinking she was pushing him to the door, but she was pushing him towards the window. Once moving her lighter weight was enough to maintain the momentum against his resistance and if the window had been single glazed he would have sailed helplessly through and (if he was unlucky) possibly have landed on his face, surrounded by razor sharp shards of glass, pushing the scissors deep into his brain and it would have been good night Vienna for a nasty piece of shit.
But it was a double glazed window, and instead they both bounced off. His forehead hit the window first, being bent over as he was, and he bounced off unconscious on top of her. She struggled and kicked the bastard until she was free, thinking he would start to fight her. Then she saw he was barely aware. When he came round he was naked, and bound, hand and foot. Oh, and there was a gag in his mouth and a wire loop like a rabbit snare around his bollocks. He looked up to see her holding a rolling pin. And wearing little more than when he'd fallen on her. She'd put on a bra and changed her knickers for an older pair. She'd burn them both later and then wash the ash down the toilet. Not so much to hide the evidence (she recognised that there would be his DNA everywhere) more that she couldn't stand the thought of any bit of him on her. She would shower a lot too, for an hour or more; but that would be later.