I was lying on my back, the cool air licking at my body. I could feel a thin fabric covering me but I knew that underneath it I was naked. I tried to open my eyes but for some reason I was surrounded by darkness. As I tried to lift my arms I felt the tight restraints circling around my wrists. I was soon aware that my entire body was strapped down onto what felt like a very hard table. I tried to force my mind to clear, to understand how this all could be happening to me. Why was I strapped to this table, and how did I get here? My mind was spinning wildly out of control and I felt as if I was floating high in the air. It felt as if I was only half-awake. I could sense vibrations underneath me that must have been coming from the table. I heard the squeaking sounds that wheels make. I felt the table begin to move.
"Someone is pushing this table," I thought fearfully.
"Who is there? What do you think you are doing with me?" I yelled suddenly.
"I'm surprised you're still awake," I heard a man's voice saying above me. "I guess I will need to give you another injection."
"Please let me go. I'm so scared," I pleaded terrified.
"I was so surprised when I realized it was actually you Mandi," the voice said again. This time I noticed it had a strangely familiar ring to it.
'Oh God, he knows me, he knows who I am,' I thought in swift panic. "Who are you?" I pleaded, tears pouring down my cheeks.
"Don't you recognize my voice?" I heard him say, seemingly sarcastic. "It's me, Bruce; Bruce Steel."
"Noooooooooo!!!!!!!" I screamed out, unable to control myself. My mind raced back to where I had first seen that name.
He had responded by e-mail to one of my stories posted on the Internet. It was after I had posted my third story that I saw his response. He told me that he had loved my story, "Amanda's Secret Memories." We quickly became good friends.
Our correspondence was innocent at first, but quickly developed into a very sexual theme. His letters always left me ripping my panties off and masturbating to a wonderful orgasm. Moreover, it seems I did the same with my letters to him. I even sent him three pictures I had taken of myself which showed me masturbating on my bed. It wasn't long before I had given him my phone number.
He phoned me almost every night. I never knew that phone sex could be so fulfilling. It wasn't because of me that we had yet to meet. I asked him on several occasions if he wanted to meet me. He told me that I wasn't ready to know who he was. He said that if I learned of his identity too quickly, I would be horrified. I had never believed him; that is, UNTIL NOW!
When the table finally stopped rolling it jolted me back to reality. Somehow, Bruce had abducted me. I could feel that I had been drugged in some way. My head was spinning so wildly that I could hardly stay conscious. I felt a sharp prick in my arm. I knew that someone had just stuck a hypodermic needle into it. I could feel the cool fluid inside the syringe now rushing into my vein.
"It is time for you to sleep," he said coolly, impersonally. "I promise not to remove anything of any importance while you are out. I consider myself a master with the knife."
I couldn't hear his voice any longer. I could feel the strange numbness traveling from my knees to the very tips of my toes. At the same time the sheet was now being removed, no longer covering my body. I felt his hand resting on my tummy. It felt like it was pushing down with the weight of an elephant; the pain was terrible.
"Please, please," I begged. "Please stop, please stop."
The words were echoing only in my mind. I was completely unable to open my mouth. The numbness had overtaken my entire body. I felt myself drifting into unconsciousness. The darkness was all around me now. I fought with all my strength to remain conscious. It would have been so much easier to slip away. It was as though a bright light had just burst before my eyes. I peered through the haze into the light. I could see a hand in front of my face. It was as if it were my very own. It was holding a brightly gleaming scalpel, poised over a soft plain of quivering flesh. As my senses cleared, I could see that it was the belly of a woman. I watched through the eyes of the holder, as he plunged the knife into her belly. A small squirt of blood shot up into the air. The eyes that I had no control over slowly began to trace upward, and past the girl's naked breasts, till they rested on her face.
"EEEEEEEEeeeeeeAAAAAAAAaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!" I heard myself screaming into the darkness. I was looking down, somehow through his eyes instead of mine, at MY body. He was cutting into MY belly.
"Oh God, no!! Please, please," I begged. "Please don't let this be happening!"
There was no one there to hear my pleadings. It was as though I didn't exist. I watched as the knife drew a line on my belly. Blood was running from the large slash that was beginning to appear.
"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!" I screamed in terror. The blackness was beginning to overtake me. This time, I welcomed it.
Only He Existed Now! ONLY HIM... ONLY BRUCE... ONLY... "BRUCE STEEL"--
The first time I saw her name,(Angel girl), I was intrigued by her. It has been just a little over a year that I first saw it in a online chat room. I was very active in these rooms. I would use names like Dr. Death, The Rapist, Ted Bundy, etc. I really enjoyed scareing women. I loved threatening them and telling them that I would find them, rape, and torture them. However, I had a different feeling about this Angel girl. Her name just sat there quietly on the screen and she never typed anything at all. I had been thinking about trying something different for some time. I was getting tired of just fantasy.
Whenever I saw her name I would log in under the name 'Bruce Steel'. I was sure she would notice that name as no one used anything resembling a real name online. After a few weeks of just monitoring the room the same as she was doing I decided to make my first move. I wrote "Hello, Angel girl," and sent it to her by private message.
I continued to do this for the next few weeks, although I never got a response. I decided to give it one more try and then I planned to give up on her.
"I almost feel that we are a couple of Oddballs, you and I. We both sit in this room too shy to type anything. I've only built up enough courage to try talking to you because I feel we are somehow the same. I am sorry for bothering you night after night. I promise that this will be the last time."
I sent the message to her. Almost immediately a private message appeared on my screen.
"I'm sorry that I have been such a prude," she answered. "It's not really because I'm so shy that I don't write. It's just that I'm not too sure what I want to say."
Before that night was over she had revealed so much about herself that I felt like I had known her for years. She was a talker. I liked that. I was recording every word she said. I knew that sooner or later she would reveal enough for me to put all the pieces together. The hunt was on. I knew that very first night she would soon be mine.
Over the next few months Angel girl and I chatted several times a week by computer. She would tell me the events of her day, but she was very careful not to reveal her identity. She had once told me that she lived in Seattle and that she worked as a nurse. It was late October when she first told me about the stories she had written and posted on the internet. She said that she was afraid to tell me about them because she thought I might hate her. She said they came from her darkest side. She told me the name of the site. After reading her stories, my opinion of her changed completely.
"What a fucked up bitch"' I remember thinking. "She is totally into violent sex, rape, torture, and murder. She even fantasizes about it happening to herself. If I handle her right, I can have more fun with this cunt than I ever imagined possible." The next time I chatted with her I told her over and over how proud I was of her opening up to people. I said that I also had the feelings she did but was always too frightened to admit them, even to myself.
She didn't answer me. Her name disappeared from the chat room. I was beginning to feel that I had somehow scared her off.
I decided to look through the bits of information I had kept about her. She was twenty-two years old. She had long curly light brown hair and green eyes. She weighed 102 pounds. She lived in Seattle and worked as a nurse. She had told me that her real name was 'ANN' but for some reason, I didn't believe it. I didn't have enough information to find her.
Just before Christmas I saw her in the chat room again. I sent her the simple message, "Hi." Her response exploded onto the screen with emotion. I could tell she must be crying. She was so apologetic.
"Please forgive me for being so rude. You are the kindest person I have ever talked with. You are always there for me. You are my best friend. I have been having so much trouble lately," she answered.
I knew that if I was ever going to lure this cunt into my trap that I would never have a better chance then right now. "I can't take your pain Angel girl. It is breaking my heart. You have become the most important person in the world to me. You must let me help you; you must. Please tell me your phone number. Let me phone you now. Let me hold your soul within my heart. I know that this is meant to be. You know that this is meant to be. It is destiny that we find each other."
.... There is more of this story ...