The Attack

by SweetSandy

Copyright© 2019 by SweetSandy

Suspense Sex Story: "She felt an arm seize her... Alison knew she was going to die, choked to death as he raped her." It's 1978 and Alison wants to travel, finding good and bad in the world.

Caution: This Suspense Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Sadistic   Snuff   Cream Pie   Safe Sex   .

1978

She felt an arm seize her, wrapping violently around her waist. Her scream was cut off as a hand, rough and calloused, clamped over her mouth. Her whole body was lifted off the ground and shaken as if she was a ragdoll in a dog’s mouth. Her legs kicked trying to find purchase. Screams muted, she bit down on a bit of skin and tasted blood. His hand released her mouth momentarily but her attempt to scream was cut off when he hit her hard across the head. Stunned by the blow, she fought to regain her senses as his hand enfolded her mouth once again, this time more carefully.

She heard his rugged voice in her ear, “Stop fighting bitch, or I will kill you!”

She did not obey, continuing her struggle as he drags her into the underbrush beside the trail.


Alison had been hiking that very sunny day, the weather a touch unusual for this part of the North Cascades Mountains. She had been traveling with friends and alone by car, train, bus and lots of walking for nearly two months now. Taking a break from college, she was making her way from New York across Canada and headed for Seattle then down to end at San Francisco. She had another month left.

This day, her battered Lonely Planet guide told her of a large waterfall just a few miles up the trail. There had been several cars parked at the trailhead and the guide book said it was popular. She felt no problem being out here alone. After all, she had grown up in the City; New York City. This place was paradise in comparison.

Sitting for a few moments on a roughhewn log bench she retied her shoes. She had left her big pack and most of her gear back at the hostel, under the care of the owner and had hitched a ride with an elderly couple to the vicinity of the trail, hiking the rest of the way.

As she sat on the bench, a man passed her going towards the falls as well. Her senses gave her a little uneasy feeling as he passed, but he greeted her with a short hello and continued on his way disappearing from sight. She put it out of her mind.

Alison had just turned 21 a few months earlier and wanted to travel, having only been to the Adirondacks and up the coast to Maine. Her mom had misgivings about her daughter being out travelling alone, so Alison had teamed up with a girlfriend for the first leg of her three month journey. The two traveled by train to Montreal, then up to Quebec City, staying at both places for several days. Janet, her friend, had to leave her at that point, but was able to get her in contact with a friend that lived in Toronto. She again traveled by bus and train and he met her at Union Station there in Toronto.


Limbs and brush scratched Alison as the man shoved her through the undergrowth, bushwhacking away from the trail. She closed her eyes to keep from getting her eyes poked by passing limbs. One shoe came off as he shoved her down the slope. She continued to struggle, trying to overcome her fear and search for a way to escape. She hit backwards and kicked, but couldn’t find purchase against her assailant. He was a good foot taller than her petite five foot two and a hundred pounds heavier.

He momentarily stopped, warning her to quit fighting and pulled up her tee shirt, stuffing the bottom into her mouth, roughly feeling her tits as he did.

“Stop it bitch and I won’t kill you.” He whispered bruskly into her ear, finding a spot to his liking.

He tossed her face down on the ground, still holding her arms behind her. Dirt went into her eyes and mouth as she tried to spit out the shirt. His knee went into her back, knocking the wind out of her. She was choking, unable to breath. Her breasts were crushed into the ground, cut and bruised. She felt him brutally yanking her shorts and underwear down. She knew she was being raped.


Tom went to Union Station station that morning to meet Alison as she arrived in Toronto. He had been given a description by her friend; short, 5’ 2”, 100 pounds, brunette and would be wearing a bandana over her hair and carrying a large backpack. He forgot if it was a red or blue one and several girls fitting the description seemed to magically appear at the station. But when he saw her, he knew she was the one.

“Alison?”

“Yes. Are you Tom?”

“Glad to meet you”, as they shook hands.

He took her pack, “I hope you don’t mind taking the subway. But it’s only a little ways.”

“Oh, no, and you really didn’t have to meet me here. I could have found my way.”

“Silly, no, it gives me a reason to get away from my flat mates. They get grumpy around finals.”

The two made their way from Union Station, getting off at St. George. From there, it was just a couple blocks to the apartment that Tom and his roommates lived in. There, Alison was introduced to Tom’s girlfriend, Leslie, and to Roger, who shared the place. They all stopped their studies and headed to a nearby bistro for mid-morning coffee.


Alison choked and sputtered, determined she would find a way through this. She did not want to die. The man removed his knee from her back, but kept one hand pressed in the small of her back as he finished yanking her shorts off. He shoved one knee down between her legs forcing them apart as she struggled. He slapped her hard on her bare buttocks with a sharp whack leaving bleeding scrapes from his unkempt nails. She screamed into her gagged mouth.

“Stop your fucking shit, bitch. Quit fighting and take it.”

Tears poured down her face, mixing with dirt and blood from cuts and scratches. Her body racked with fright and anger. She felt his hand forcefully press into her crotch and dry dirty fingers push into her cunt.

“You like this, bitch? There, doesn’t this feel good?”

She screamed, again muted and renewed her fighting. He removed his hand and hit her hard in the back with his fist, knocking the wind out of her again. He flipped her over and she saw his face; the man that had passed her earlier. She knew then this was bad. He didn’t care that he was being seen. He was going to kill her.


Tom and Leslie took turns taking Alison to different points of interest; the CN tower of course, the museums and gardens and a tour of the University. They pointed her to Beach Village, the shops on Queens Street and more, where she wandered alone, filling her time with the sights and sounds. She spent several days there. They insisted on her staying with them at night, even after she said she didn’t mind hostels. They would have none of it, not even the money she offered.

They all took a Sunday off and went to Niagara Falls for the day. She had seen it as a little child, but that had been years ago. They all just sat and watched the water, the fog and the little boat; Maid of the Mist taking sightseers to the bottom of the falls. They went to a recital and a theater production at the University in the evening.

She and Leslie slept in Tom and hers bed while Tom slept on the couch. The two girls compared notes on boyfriends and lovers, giggling late into the night.

Tom came into their bedroom, “Shush! Time to sleep. Don’t make me come in here again!”

He actually just came to get some clothes out of his drawers, but liked kidding them. Two little heads were peeking out of the covers.

“Damn, you two are so cute together.”

Leslie laughed, “I know what you’re thinking, buster. But, just forget it. This is girls only!”

Alison and Leslie giggled as Tom gave them a hurt look, “Why, the thought never crossed my mind.”

“No, but it did cross your dick!” Leslie taunted.

He kneeled and kissed his girlfriend on the lips. A deep, wet kiss.

Alison snickered, “Get a room!”

Tom leaned over towards Alison. The two girls looked shocked; was he going to repeat that with Alison? But he kissed a quick peck to her forehead and then bowed with a gentleman’s flourish and left as they giggled yet again.

She regretted having to leave them after a week to continue her journey across Canada and northern US. Tom and Leslie kissed and hugged her as they put her back on the train towards Winnipeg.


“I want to feel your tits, bitch” and he squeezed them as harshly as he could.

He placed one hand around her neck as he pulled out he cock. He beat his meat to make it harden as she closed her eyes and continued to try to struggle and find a way out. He lowered himself on to her, crushing her into the rocks, sticks and dirt under the weight of his body. She began to choke as his hand pressed tightly into her neck. Her muffled cry just a croak as he pierced into her. She knew she was going to die, choked to death as he raped her.

He shoved his cock into her as hard as he could, fucking her and strangling her at the same time.

He felt a strange pain between his shoulders. He let go of her neck and his dick came out of her as he tried to reach behind his back. He looked confused.


Greg had decided to take the day off to hike the falls. This time, he took a trail he hadn’t been on yet. As he hoped, the mid-week trailhead wasn’t crowded. Only a few cars were around. He gathered his pack and headed up the few miles to the falls.

A couple miles in, a noise caught his attention. At first, he thought someone was coming down the trail but as he went around the bend, no one was there. He heard crackling of brush off the trail. He knew it was unlikely to be an animal, as they are usually stealthy. Then he heard what sounded like voices. Weird, maybe someone was going to the bathroom out there. He shrugged and started to go. He saw a small day pack tumbled in the brush. A muffled cry came up from below off the trail. It didn’t sound right. It didn’t feel right. He dropped his pack and pulled out the only think he had as a weapon, a Swiss army knife. He almost put it back, thinking it wasn’t needed.

As he quietly moved down the brush, he could see broken branches and a shoe. Noises got louder. He couldn’t believe what he saw. There was a large man ripping clothes off a young woman, hitting her then choking her. When the man pulled down his pants, Greg knew he was witnessing a rape and possibly a murder.


In Winnipeg, Alison stayed at a youth hostel. There she met Dave. He was just a year older, about six feet tall, lanky and handsome. His outgoing personality made him funny, likeable. He said he was making his way towards Idaho where he had a summer job as a river guide. He had been a river rat for a number of commercial rafting companies for several years and did it every season.

He and Alison hit it off immediately. She wasn’t one for short flings, but she couldn’t help herself around Dave. He took Alison out all day long on a tour of the sights, until a blast of cold wet weather chased them back indoors at the hostel. As they sat drinking coffee in the kitchen of the hostel along with several other travelers, men and women, all young, he told of some of the adventures he had and some of the funny stories with guests on the raft trips. Like the lady who had never been camping, when her boyfriend took her on a two week raft trip down one of the toughest rivers; the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. He said these were some of the earliest commercial trips and were pretty raw. By the time she got to the Phantom ranch that was it. She had enough. She and her boyfriend in tow decided to leave the river and hike out. That’s nearly 10 hours of hard uphill hiking. He tried to dissuade her, even fibbing that it got easier farther on, it doesn’t. It gets worse. Anyway, he couldn’t delay and there was no other way out of the canyon, so he loaded them with water and they left. He had never seen that before and never heard what ever happened. The Park rangers didn’t have any missing person’s report, so he figured they made it. He doubted that her boyfriend stayed around her much longer.

Alison had snuggled beside Dave as he talked. She liked listening to him. They had pizza and beer and finally everyone had wandered back to their beds. Dave leaned over and kissed Alison. She returned his kiss. She didn’t want to leave him, so they sat and talked and kissed.

She whispered to him, “I have a private room here.”


Greg was a second year med student at University of Washington in Seattle. He knew he had to stop this man, who looked far larger and more powerful than him. He had the small knife, but more importantly, knew where he had to put it in order to do the most damage. In the few seconds from the time he saw them and saw that she was about to be killed, he estimated the gap between ribs on his back and placement of the man’s heart. He stabbed.

The man let go of Alison and she scrambled away, yanking her shirt out of her mouth and yelling for help. She hadn’t seen Greg as he crept up behind the man. The man turned around and looked at Greg with rage and surprise. He couldn’t reach the knife stuck in his back and into his heart, his aorta nearly severed. The man gurgled a curse and fell over writhing in pain as he died.

Alison was still screaming and crabbing backwards as Greg reached her and wrapped his arms around her. She grabbed onto him crying and sobbing, shaking like a leaf. He knew she was going into shock. He grabbed up Alison’s clothes and pulled her away from the now bloody scene. He left the man untouched with the knife still in his back. This was a crime scene and he didn’t want to disturb it more than he had.

“It’s ok, he can’t hurt you anymore...” he said.

“You are in shock. I am a med student. I can help.”

He pulled Alison away from looking at the man and led her back to the trail, handing her clothes back to her as they went. At the trail, she stood there, her face watching Greg, but unseeing. He had to put her shorts on her himself. He was careful not to wipe her off, knowing he had to get to a hospital and the police might need this as evidence of the struggle. With no phones out here, they would have to hike out and he drive her. He was not about to leave her out here while he went to get help, so he tied a piece of cloth from his shirt to a branch, grabbed their packs and took Alison by the waist.

“I’m Greg. Greg Matheson. What is your name?” he asked.

She looked at him like she couldn’t understand him.

“We have to get you out of here and to a hospital. We have to hike out. Is that ok?”

She just stared at him, unblinking.

“Did you have any other things with you besides the pack?”

She shook her head, barely comprehending. They were already starting to walk slowly down the trail.


Alison led Dave to her small room as the hostel. Normally, she had always just slept in the women’s dorm as it was cheapest, but this morning, she had decided to splurge on a private room. Now she knew why. She laughed at her premonition.

She whispered to him, “I don’t usually do this.”

“It’s ok, I have”, he kidded her, his smile disarming her.

With a turn of his hand, he brushed her hair from her face and away from ear and kissed her earlobe and then down her neck. They had barely closed the door and were already in each other’s arms. He kissed her forehead. With two fingers under her chin, he tilted her head upwards. His lips touched hers lightly, then deeply as they began to tussle at removing their clothes. He lifted her blouse off as she raised her arms. He caught her arms before she lowered them and placed wet kisses down each of them until he reached her shoulder. She pressed him to pull off his tee shirt, feeling his rippled torso as it was revealed. Her hands ran up and down his sparsely hairy chest. She kissed all around on his pecs as she continued to run her hands over and around his abdomen and stomach, feeling his muscles.

He unbuttoned her shorts, opening them to reveal the top of her panties. Alison pulled on her shorts as he unhooked her bra exposing her bowl size breasts, young and firm, nipples hardening as he kissed each of them in turn. She felt breathless under the touch of his lips. Nervous but wanting, she kicked off her shorts. In a surprise, he sweeps her up in his strong rowing arms and lays her on the bed. She squeals and then catches herself to stay quiet, giggling instead.

He removes his shorts, leaving him standing in just his boxers. Her eyes go to his crotch where his hard-on was tenting. She giggled again, feeling naughty making love to someone she just met. It had been nearly six months since she had broken up with her last boyfriend so she was excited by this.

He kneeled down and took her legs as they hung over the edge of the bed. He slowly kissed up each leg, alternating from one to the other. He kissed each calve, then on the side of each knee. He moved slowly, kissing up her inner thigh as she giggled from his tickles. As he approached where her thighs met her hips, her labia still covered with her pink flowered panties, he stopped, rested his chin on one side on her hip.

He whispered, “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? How pretty? How sweet?”

She smiled, feeling like a little teenager about to do something she had never done before. He watched her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the room. He gazed at her breasts rising and falling to her deepening breath. His hands stroked her thighs, moving slowly to her hip feeling her pelvic bone protruding upwards. Fingertips traced the edge of her panty elastic where it met her hip. She sucked in her tummy and a gap formed. His fingers lazily traced across and slightly under as her belly quivered in anticipation.

She reiterated as much to herself as to him, “I usually don’t do this. We just met...”

She couldn’t finish as his fingertips traced across her belly and to her navel. He lifted his head back up, leaned in and kissed her mound through her panties. Her scent came to him.

“You smell good. You feel nice. Alison, you are wonderful!”

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