WARNING! You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and nonconsensual sex. If you do not like such stories, please turn back. We don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Anyone who commits rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right so long as no one is hurt.
It was her! Sandra was back in town! He never believed that woman would ever drop into his life again, but alas, she did. Brad catches himself staring at her across the room, temporarily lost in her beauty. The brown curly hair that sprouted from her head and hung all around, her long, slender form and magnificent legs had only grown more alluring since high school. And high school, over ten years prior, was on Brad's mind at the moment.
High school years were difficult for Brad, caught up in between the cliques he was often the target of abuse and ridicule. Sandra used to take great pleasure in demeaning him regularly; she really enjoyed getting her boyfriend to beat him up because she falsely claimed Brad had hit on her or touched her. The brown haired Sandra Jones as a teen had a smaller version of her dark brown curly hairstyle back then, and enjoyed showing off her body in short skirts. Her worst gag was when she pretended that her boyfriend dumped her before the Prom and called Brad with fake tears asking him to go with her. Of course when he raced over to see her, he was met by her boyfriend, Frank Smith, who pummeled him in front of many gawking friends. This event had always stuck with Brad through the years, he had moved on with his life, but never forgot the pain of that moment.
Stunned that his former nemesis had reappeared, Brad shook himself out of his staring as his boss came over to talk to him. "How's it going, Brad? We hired a new associate today, here is all her paperwork, and I'll send her over for the orientation in a few minutes." Brad, the head of Human Resources, nodded and glanced at the folder dropped onto his desk, the name on it was Sandra Smith. After his boss left, Brad opened the file and confirmed the name change. Sandra was married ... to the same Frank Smith from high school. His mind whirred with intrigue and wonder; he always had imagined how he would get revenge on the tormentors of his youth if he ever got the chance. As his mind wandered, the sound of footsteps into his office preceded a sweet sounding greeting "Brad! Oh my God! Small world, huh? How are you?" He looked over to see the lovely Sandra, hand extended, he shook her hand and snuck a peek at her cleavage. Her breasts were never the largest, but they were perfectly sized, or so Brad always thought.
Brushing aside her dark brown locks from her ears, Sandra crossed her long legs and sat back. "Wow ... Sandra?" Brad replied, attempting to downplay his surprise "How have you been? I see by your file that you aren't Miss Jones anymore."
"Oh yeah," Sandra said "I married Frank, remember him? We just moved back to town, he is a personal trainer now. Did you ever get married?"
"No, I haven't..." his reply trailed off, "but really, I've got to get this orientation paperwork signed so let's get this started. It is nice to see you again; I think you'll like it here." Brad responded with false friendliness, even as his mind buzzed with other plans. They dove into the paperwork and made short work of it, as she rose and started to leave his office, Brad's eyes drank in her figure, lingering on her long legs.
After she left his office, he jotted down her address, one of the new homes in New Village, the still-under-construction development at the edge of town. He digested other information from her papers, including Frank's work schedule, which she included in her emergency contact info. His plan was starting to come together.
He spent the rest of the day plotting in his head, and when 5pm came, Brad was in his car and saw Sandra strutting out to the parking lot; he waited and saw her get into her BMW and head out, Brad following at a distance. When she came to her half-built neighborhood, Brad hung back even further. He kept back until he saw the black car enter a driveway next to a light blue house on a street that didn't appear to have any other residents yet. A grin crossed his face as Brad headed home for the night, to further plan out his idea.
Friday morning arrived and Brad started his day with grand intentions in mind. He loaded into his trunk the materials required for the day and happily drove off to work. In just a few days, he had it planned to a "T". Sandra had a business meeting after hours at 6pm and would be delayed in getting home. Brad had learned from her paperwork that her hubby Frank got off work at 5:30 on Fridays. He could hardly wait for the work day to end today!
Brad went to his office and Sandra stopped nearby to chat with a coworker. The two women spoke and Brad's eyes wandered over Sandra's outfit hugging her shapely body. At the company they encourage creative fashion tastes for the associates and the leggy, dark haired vixen took full advantage. She wore a short dark skirt that ended short of her knees, a fancy blouse with that left just a hint of cleavage and she added white nylons that featured a floral rose pattern on them in pink and purple and her high heeled boots to complete the outfit.
He found it difficult to tear his eyes away, but he just managed to do so before she noticed him staring at her, his eyes full of lust and a desire for revenge. Brad eagerly watched the time tick away on the work week until Sandra came by his office close to quitting time.
"Brad, am I dressed appropriately for this meeting? It's my first one here and I want to be sure to make a good impression." She asked him, putting him into a spot where he must look her over, which he did slowly.
"I think you look great, Sandra! Nothing to worry about, I'm sure it will go well tonight." Brad replied in his most sincere-sounding voice.
"Aww, that's sweet of you to say, Brad. Hey, maybe sometime you can come over and have dinner with Frank and I? You know, relive old times and stuff?"
Brad pauses, realizing Sandra either doesn't remember or hopes he forgot all the torture she and Frank put him through back in high school. But he does answer her, "Yeah, that sounds good, we'll have to do that some day." He thinks to himself that he will be seeing Frank and Sandra at their house sooner than she knows. Brad's green eyes gaze at Sandra's shapely body as she walks off.
A glance at the clock shows 4:57pm, it was about time! Brad gathered his stuff and shut down his computer and caught a whiff of a familiar sweet perfume scent and looked up to see Sandra passing by en route to her meeting. He stares momentarily at her while she is walking away, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulders.
Brad hit the road on his mission; he slid on his black leather gloves and took to the highway. The music blaring as he stares at the road ahead of him, he drove in the direction of New Village. Upon entering the development, Brad drove around to see that no cars were at the house and then parked his car among other cars in the construction lot. He took his duffel bag out of the trunk and, under the cloak of fall twilight, walked through the wooded area that would eventually be backyards of the houses and then onward to the light blue house at the end of the street.
5:20pm, his watch read as Brad reached the back of the house. Kneeling down, he took out a thin piece of metal and easily unlatched the simple lock on the basement window. Taking a look inside, he sees the window is right above the dryer. Lowering his bag first, Brad then enters the house through the window and secures the latch. Knowing time is ticking, he heads up the stairs to the first floor of the house.
As he wanders down the hallway, he sees the pictures the couple has put up and his eyes immediately jump to a familiar shot. It's from high school, the Prom, no less. The very Prom where the two had played such an evil scheme on him! He noticed how little Sandra had aged in over a decade, she has the same great legs she had back in high school. Shaking his head at the bad memory from years ago, Brad located the master bedroom and promptly put his duffel bag in the closet and started getting ready for the couple to arrive. Frank was to get home first, his workday was just ending.
Minutes later, Brad hears a key in the lock and heavy footsteps entering the house. He was ready and waiting for the moment and held a handgun that fired a tranquilizer. Practicing his shooting weekly, Brad knew he had to be accurate with his shot. Frank was a trainer, and far stronger than the skinny head of HR. From a corner beside the bathroom door, Brad stood poised and ready with the gun aimed at the doorway. The bedroom door opens fully, and a burly man enters, Frank catches a movement out of the corner of his eye, but before he could see it was Brad, the tranquilizer dart struck him and he went down in a heap. As he groggily moved his head about, Brad walked over and kicked him. Frank was completely out soon afterward, Brad grinned at the satisfaction of the revenge that would soon be his and grabbed the handcuffs and ropes.
Sandra happily hummed along with the radio and drove out of the parking lot. She had hit a home run with the meeting and was so relieved and happy at once! She was anxious to tell Frank about her day and hopefully the two could go out and celebrate. The brunette's calls to Frank's cell went to voicemail, so she assumed he was just showering after work, as per usual.
With Frank gagged and handcuffed and bound on the floor, Brad waited for Sandra to arrive. He slips on a black ski mask and is now wearing all black, with the gloves, a sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He places the bottle of chloroform on the dresser and the cloth over the top, waiting for the woman of the house to arrive. As if on cue, he hears the sound of the front door opening and flips the bottle, dampening the cloth, and moves behind the bedroom door.
"Frank? Honey? Where are you, sweetie?" Her gentle voice echoes through the new home, and the sound of her high heeled boots on the floor draws closer.
The door opens to Sandra's smiling face; she scans the room and her mouth drops when she sees Frank bound and unconscious on the floor.
"Frank!!!" She yells and takes two steps in his direction when a gloved hand grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with the chloroform soaked rag. Her muted yelling softens and her slender body goes limp in his arms.
Brad drags the leggy beauty over to the bed and lies her down on her back. First, he blindfolds her and then binds her wrists to the bedposts. Then, he bends her knees and ties her legs that way, wrapping rope around her ankles and her thighs. Sandra is now lying on her bed on her back, her wrists bound to the bedposts and her eyes blindfolded. Her knees are both bent with her feet flat on the mattress, giving Brad a nice view up her slim skirt.
Brad purposely did not blindfold Frank, as part of his revenge was he wanted him to see what will be done to Sandra. Now he leered down at his prize, the leggy brunette who was now helpless in her own bed, and thought about how long he had hoped and waited for this chance.
Brad pulls off the gloves and slides his hands up along Sandra's luscious legs, parting her legs even more for him. She lies there immobile, still out from the chloroform, helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wishes.