Chapter 1

The location was very carefully cased; the woman was the luck of the draw. I got up and slipped in behind her at the entrance to the hallway that led to the restrooms. The hallway had this jink in it that masked the restroom entries from the main room; I'd examined it very carefully over four visits in the previous month for surveillance, going so far as to actually stick my head in the Ladies Room to check the layout and to see if there was a camera in the hallway that would bring that move to someone's attention -- someone who no doubt would ask me to leave, but would reveal the dangers of doing anything more criminal. I took my time, too, on that occasion, scanning the whole Ladies Room for threats with the door hanging open. I saw nothing. Then I actually went in and went over the place, looking at the smoke alarm and the vents -- you name it -- for threats. Two poor women had to suffer outside the locked door -- or maybe one came back twice -- while I unscrewed vent covers and shined a flashlight here and there. Nothing. Then I went back to my seat and spent an additional thirty minutes waiting to see if a manager was going to accost me. Still nothing.

In the interim, I had returned once to see if someone had caught me on a delayed scan of the videotapes. Apparently, they hadn't. That cleared the decks for today...

The pickings were a bit more limited than I would have liked, but the timeframe was specifically planned -- around two in the afternoon, when the traffic was low and there were only a few unhurried patrons. So, after a couple of fits and starts and at least one wave-off that was purely a product of nerves, I'd settled on a woman and was in the hallway behind her.

She wasn't tiny. She was in her twenties, somewhere, with one of those smiling chubby cherub faces with the upturned nose that was, well, maybe just a bit beyond into hog-nosed. She had big round hooters displayed in a peasant blouse, big feet in fancy flip-flops, meaty calves and thighs, and her jean skirt fit like skin over a good-sized ass. Hell, she probably outweighed me, but there really wasn't anything else in the place under forty, it seemed like.

If she'd looked behind her, I'd have gone on to the Men's Room and then probably called it a day and left -- but she didn't so I let her open the door and step inside and start fumbling for the light switch before I whipped the drawstring bag over her head and pushed her. Putting her on the floor took nothing more than a leg in front of hers as she staggered forward; I rode her down and pinned her there, one knee in her back, while I covered her nose and mouth to keep her from alerting anyone with a scream. Behind us, the automatic door closure hissed and the door closed, masking us from all view.

I was a LEETLE nervous -- this was my very first rape -- so my voice was a little off when I said, "You've got choices -- the first one of which is do you want to live or die? If you want to live, we're going to have a nice, quiet conversation; if you want to die, I'll fix it so you don't breathe again -- ever." I was a regular armory; I had a gun AND a knife. I poked her neck with the knife. "Stop flopping around and shut your mouth and nod -- do you want to live?" She flopped and gobbled into my hand for another few seconds and I rasped in her ear, "Close the mouth -- NOW!" She did and I let go of her nose, and she used it to suck in a big breath -- and I poked her neck again with the knife -- not enough to draw blood. "Stop moving -- before I stop you permanently!" I growled. Dammit, I had to get to the door lock...

She stopped. The clock was ticking ... I pulled my gun with its improvised silencer out of the hidden holster I'd rigged for it and I pressed it to her temple. "I have to get up now and see to it that we don't get bothered. If you insist on moving, I will have to shoot you with this. If you lie still, we can move on to other things -- things you will at least be alive at the end of. Do you understand? No moving -- don't even scratch! Pat the floor with your left hand if you understand..." Her left hand moved, slowly patting the floor tile. "Good. Don't change your mind, because I won't change mine." I got up, lifting my knee from her back, and she was momentarily free while I turned the lock -- but she didn't move. I knelt beside her and covered her mouth. "Okay, I'm back. Put your hands up over your head..." She did so and I whipped a zip-tie over her wrists. "Okay, roll over and sit up." This was a calculated move -- have you ever sat up without your hands? With your feet straight out? This was a big girl -- she probably weighted two-forty or so -- she had to lean to one side on the bound hands, and by the time she was upright, her knees were spread. I circled around behind her and covered her mouth with one hand and placed the other on the inside of her right thigh, just far enough above her knee to ensure that I had her attention...

"Okay, some ground rules," I said. "I haven't gagged you because I may choose to stick any one of several things in your mouth. We might be talking a finger or the barrel of my gun -- or my cock. I really don't care what it is -- if you suck on it, you're a good girl, but if you bite it, you're a dead girl. Are you with me so far? Nod..." She nodded. "Want to try a test? Go ahead..." I picked up the gun off the floor and fed the silencer into her mouth. "It's hard to suck through the bag, isn't it? Let me fix that. Open your mouth and don't move -- there will be a knife wandering around and you've been good thus far, so I really don't care to cut you..."