Chapter I
A scream ripped through the night air. A cat screeched as it ran away. Some garbage cans rattled as a rare breeze blew through the dank, dark alley. She screamed again as the rapist shoved himself inside her again.
"Scream again and I'll knock out the rest of your teeth bitch!" he yelled in her face.
One hand kept the knife to her throat while the other kept her arms pinned above her head. She lay there, one eye swollen, split and bloodied lips, bruised and beaten, crying, as her assailant finished and spent himself inside her. He let go of her hands, grabbed her by the throat and repositioned the knife above her heart.
"You're such a fucking slut! You were soaking fucking wet by the time I got your panties off!" his voice was coarse and his breath was hot as he spoke in her ear. "Is that what gets you off you little fucking whore? Having the shit kicked outta you and being forced to spread your legs? Don't think I didn't feel you cum you fucking slut."
She was starting to have trouble breathing as his grip was getting tighter around her throat. His breathing was getting a little faster and she could feel him getting hard again inside of her.
"I'm going to fucking kill you while I fuck you bitch. I want to feel you die as I cum in your wet slut cunt."
She lay there weeping as he labored over and in her. She couldn't keep herself from cumming as he spent himself inside her for the second time. The knife pierced her skin, drew blood, and he was gone. The knife clattered on the ground as a soft rain began to fall. A shadow peeled itself away from the wall and exited the mouth of the alley.
.........._______..........
He sat drinking his morning coffee outside Starbucks as he did most mornings. Paper in hand, laptop on the table beside him, well kept and well dressed. He looked every bit the part of the business professional he was. But this was just one aspect of who he was. Beyond what the vanilla world chose to see, he was also a Dom and a Master.
Normally he would be doing this same morning ritual at home, attended by his slaves but business and other matters had him taking his coffee from here of late. It wasn't home brewed, which is always the best, but it was passable and he enjoyed watching the people passing by starting their day.
Halfway through his coffee as he was reading about the fifth consecutive day of odd weather patterns, he spotted her. She was wearing a blue summer dress that complimented her eyes. Tattoos crossed her chest and spread down her left arm. The bruises on the rest of her body almost matched the tattoos, if not for the swollen eye and split lips they probably wouldn't have been that noticeable.
She took the same route every day. Passing in front of the coffee shop on her way to the shelter where she volunteered. She initially caught his eye a couple of weeks prior: walking boldly down the street in her summer dress with cuts and bruises bared and plain for the world to see. If she even noticed the looks she received from the passersby and people on the street, she ignored them. He liked that about her.
As she passed in front of the coffee shop, right near his table, the wind picked up tearing the paper from his hand. As he reached to catch it, his arm caught his coffee cup and sent it crashing to the ground exploding the contents through the metal fence and splashing against her lower legs and feet. She stopped in her tracks with a slight gasp and a widening of her eyes. He quickly moved around the fence, napkins in hand.
"Apologies," he said as he bent to wipe the coffee from her feet. The coffee wasn't scalding but it was hot enough to pinken the flesh of her ankles and feet.
"That's ok. Please, you don't have to do that," she said meekly.
As he cleaned her feet, he could smell how wet she'd gotten.
"It's really no problem," he said. "It was completely my fault; it's the least I can do. I'm so sorry about this."
He stood and looked into her eyes. She quickly looked down and away.
"Joseph," he said.
"Christina," she relied and grasped his outstretched hand.
"Christina, it's good to meet you. Even if it wasn't under the most pleasant of circumstances."
.........._One Week Later_..........
She was walking home. Taking the back alleys as was her norm. The noises of the city at night floated down the alleyways echoing off the walls. A figure stepped from the shadows and blocked her path.
"Where you goin sweet thing?"
She turned to head back the way she'd come, only to find the way blocked by another figure.
"My friend asked you a question. It's rude not to answer when you been asked a question."
"Please," she said. "I don't want any trouble."
"Trouble?" said the first man. He was tall and wiry. Corded muscles stretched down his forearms.
"We don't want no trouble neither baby," he smiled broadly displaying his smoked stained teeth. "Don't worry baby, we'll escort ya home. Make sure ya get there all nice and safe like."
"Thank you, but no. I can manage," she said shyly and tried to move around the first man. He side stepped into her path blocking the way again.
"I don't think she likes you Raff," laughed the big fellow.