by Gill Byrd
I found Jill by accident, almost purely a chance meeting. Oh, I was preparing to abduct a woman at the time, but I had a different one in mind. This was quite a young girl who I had been stalking for a number of weeks, and I was almost ready to take her. The venue was a cellar under an unoccupied workshop in a run-down part of town that I had rented. The buildings on either side were empty so I didn't expect to be heard, much less disturbed. You wouldn't call it a dungeon exactly; just a utility room with all the necessities for keeping a woman in interesting positions for as long as it suited me to. I had fitted it out. There was a wooden bench, a sink with running water, an old mattress, some iron rings set into the walls, and a small fridge, stocked with drinks.
And my recording equipment.
The plan had been for me to grab her on the other side of town, put her in my white Transit van and bring her to my place. This was to be the week following. I had been checking the equipment in the cellar, making sure the video and stills cameras were loaded and ready to go. As a security precaution my van was parked well away from the workshop and I was walking to it when I saw Jill, her back to me walk uncertainly around a corner ahead.
I stopped dead still, thinking fast. I knew the woman had walked into a cul-de-sac; she would be returning in a moment. If she came back down my street she would pass the workshop. My mind was in a whirl, I knew from experience that these things need detailed planning; I enjoyed the preamble, the hunt! Would I spoil my own pleasure by rushing this one? Would I make a mistake by rushing? With excitement flushing over me I made my way quickly to the workshop door and unlocked it, checking as I went that there were no witnesses to see what I was doing.
Putting on my black cotton "murder mask," with just eye-holes, I waited two doors down to see if she came my way. She did approach, but on the wrong side of the street! In the darkening gloom she didn't see me, but I was able to get a better look at her. She was older than my prospect, about middle to late twenties. And taller. She looked nice, dressed for a night out but not flaunting it. I made my decision; I would have her, now!
With a quick glance up and down the street I darted after her. I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her quickly into my workshop, kicking the door shut behind us. She hadn't made a sound, so fast had been my attack! I immediately pulled a blindfold from my overall pocket and placed it over her face. She began to struggle, belatedly, so I slapped her face and growled at her to be quiet and that I would slap her tits later, when I had stripped her. She became a little quieter and I pulled her arms behind her back and tied her thumbs together with a little slipknot of nylon cord that I find very effective in immobilising reluctant bitches. I was now able to take my time so I locked the door and took a few deep breaths before guiding her down the steps to the cellar.
The cellar was very well lighted, from spots fitted all around the edges of the ceiling. I placed her standing in the centre of the room, while I inspected my catch. She was scared, shaking with the fear of me, which was good; I wanted her to be afraid. She had a small handbag that I placed out of the way. I sat on a chair while I took off my overalls, leaving myself in a tee shirt and my boots. Now I switched on the video camera.
I stood before her and told her what was expected of her. I was going to strip her, fuck her and then send her home. This was important, she had to know that I would not kill her; she would be released that night. Then I began to take her clothes off.
A woman wearing only a dress is a delight, so I usually start with the underwear, removing it while keeping the outer clothing on. Looking under her dress, I was delighted to find she was not wearing tights; I hate them! There was a bonus in the fact that her panties were pretty cotton ones that hardly covered her large arse. The mask was feeling a bit stuffy so I took it off. Taking a moment to enjoy the view, I walked around her, observing how the dress clung to her body.
The cleft of her arse was visible through the thin material. She waited, looking fairly calm while I drank a bottle of Bud.
Time for some work.
I took the hem of her dress in both hands and lifted it above her waist. She gasped with surprise but stayed still. I pulled higher, revealing braless, firm tits.
The view was good. A shapely, mature woman. Narrow waist, slight belly, very good legs with full thighs; my kind of woman. One of my favourite moments had arrived. Squatting, I reached up under her dress and tugged her panties down to her ankles. "Step out", I said, softly.
She obeyed, one foot then the other. I stuffed them into my pocket; she wouldn't be putting them back on.
Things were moving a bit too fast. I always like to savour these sessions; after all they don't come along very often. "Stand with your feet wider apart!" I commanded. Then I sat down to consider my next move.
"Ok, cunt, lets get that dress off!" I untied the looped nylon cord from her thumbs and immediately lifted her dress up and over her head, dropping it to one side. Before she could realise her hands were loose I pulled them behind her again and retied the thumbs. She was a beautiful, naked goddess. "Bend forward at the hips," I commanded. I had to help her by holding her waist with one hand and pressing on her back with the other. She was completely bowed forward with her head down. Her breasts swung downwards. I could now see her cunt more clearly; it was very small and neat, dry looking, its lips closed tightly.
I swung my open palm hard against her right tit, then the left with all my strength. She howled with pain and shock and began gasping for breath. Tears were streaming down her face. With my face close to her ear I snarled, "Bitch! When I said I would slap your tits I meant it. When you're told to do something, do it! I always keep my promise, whatever it is!" Her breasts were reddening up nicely. My cock was standing painfully erect so I pushed her head down to it. She felt it against her cheek and immediately opened her lips and took it in her mouth.
"You are one dirty cow!" I snapped. I hadn't even told her to suck it. I suppose she was so shit-scared and nervous that she had become too eager to please me. I allowed her to suck on my knob for a little while; you have to keep them happy, yes?
This is what it's all about. This is the reason for all the planning, the danger, and the fear of discovery. Oh yes, it's not easy being a rapist. There is the very real risk of being arrested, or beaten up by a passer-by or angry husband. Not nice prospects. So when all my careful planning gives a good result I can't be blamed for savouring the fruits of my labours, can I? And this was it, the lovely, lovely present I had given myself. A married woman, tied up and blindfolded, naked in my den. Her large breasts pointing upwards and outwards, her pubic bush on view. Another mans woman. With me. Unprotected. I could do anything with her and she knew it. And I would, whatever took my fancy.
I guided her to a seat and sat her down. Now I interrogated her about her sex life. With some encouragement, she told me of the first blowjob she had given (forced by a boy friend she had trusted at fourteen), the time two boys had got her drunk at a party and fucked her from both ends, and some of the date-rapes that I hear about from all my victims. I also learned about her husband, Mark; how he liked to push the end of his cock into her anus, about an inch, which was all she could take. Oh dear! An inch? I nearly laughed out loud. She was going to get a sore lesson today.
After putting on my mask, I now removed her blindfold. Let me tell you now that there was no reason of security for preventing her seeing my face. No, it's more a case of the unknown being more terrifying than the known. It didn't matter if she saw my face; I knew she wasn't going to report our little get-together. She blinked at the bright lights. I took her by the elbow and led her around the room. She probably didn't take in much of the view but I just wanted her to see how hopeless her situation was. "Get up on the bench!" She obeyed, struggling to climb onto the padded workbench. I helped her up with a couple of hard slaps to her arse cheeks.
Once she was in position, on her knees with her chest resting on the padded top, the sight of her big arse on offer got my dick stirring. Her tiny brown anus above the slightly parted cunt lips was especially attractive. I put my mouth to her cunt and sucked and lapped at it, drawing her juices into my mouth. Then I put my tongue into the crack of her arsehole, as deep as it would go, wiggling it about and spitting saliva onto her. Is it just me, or do others like the taste of a captive woman's arsehole? I decided that I would fuck her arse later; right now her glistening cunt cried out for my cock.
Moving close to her I placed my cock-head against her cunt lips and pushed it into her offered cunt. She gasped as I slid deep into her. I was so hard and excited that I gushed within seconds! Damn, I was annoyed with myself, so of course I took it out on her! Picking up a leather belt, I applied it hard across her backside. Five or six strokes I gave her, and her screams were loud enough to make me hope the cellar really was soundproof enough. And the way she threw herself about to avoid the next welt! She nearly came off the bench. When my temper had subsided I pulled her down and laid her sobbing quietly on the stone floor while I had another drink and planned my next move.
Why was I so angry? I don't know. When you really want to enjoy something and ...