They met on a kinky sex website. One that had several rooms that catered to every kink imaginable. The room they met in dealt in consensual rape...an oxymoron for sure but his kink, nonetheless. She was not well versed in the world of kink but was curious, and rape, oddly enough, was where she chose to start. And he was more than happy to accommodate her fantasy.
For months they chatted online, getting to know one another. He was earning her trust. Each week he pushed her boundaries. He gave her assignments that were to be documented by pictures from her phone. Simple things at first. Since it was summer she was to go to the local shopping center wearing no underwear with her sun dress, progressing to taking a selfie with her tits exposed at Buffalo Wild Wings on the opening Saturday of college football season. She loved being "made" to do these things, things she would not normally do.
During their online conversations he was able to discreetly get information from her. She lived alone but had two cats. She owned a small house in an older neighborhood, not an apartment, which was good news to him. With every bit of information, he was beginning to make a plan. She was going to get her fantasy, he would see to that.
By September he knew she was his. Her tasks had been bolder and she met them all with style. He liked her. He devised a plan. He would rape her!
On October 1 he went silent. No more texts, instant messages, nothing for two weeks. It drove her crazy. She texted him, pleading for him to respond. Nothing from him. He let her stew.
One Tuesday morning he packed his SUV and traveled to Memphis and got a hotel room as close to her house as he could. For two days he monitored her every move.
Friday at noon, he removed the screen from her bedroom window, jimmied the lock and let myself in. On Friday she met some friends after work, so he had plenty of time to lay his trap.
The first thing he did was simply rearrange some of the things in her house. Nothing drastic, but a drawer partially open in the kitchen, the door to the laundry room opened a bit, a lamp in the den turned on. Just enough to mind fuck her. When she arrived home after meeting some friends for a drink, he was prepared. He knew exactly where he would make his move. He sat quietly in a very cramped hall closet waiting for the right moment.
As expected, when she got home she walked through the kitchen and simply closed the drawer, not giving it a thought. But the door to the laundry room gave her pause. She knew she had not been in the laundry room that morning, so this was strange. It wasn't until walking down the hall that she noticed the lamp. She froze. Someone had been in the house.
The time was right, he sprung from his hiding place, placing a pillow case over her head, just as she had described in her fantasy. Methodically he duct taped her hands behind her back and her feet together and over her mouth. Again, as she had described in her lengthy text messages
She was frightened and rightfully so. And now that she was subdued he could relax and take his time.
He opened his rape kit and pulled out a bottle of Pinot, opened it and poured a healthy amount into a class he retrieved from the cabinet. He sat in the antique rocker took a sip and began to run his hand gently down her back.
"I am going to rape you. That is a given. Now, what is not known is what I am going to have to do to you to get you to cooperate. We have all weekend so...make it easy on yourself...or not. That decision is yours and it's the only one you will have to make."
He dragged her across the den floor. As she lay there trembling her fears went into overdrive when she heard the mechanics of a switchblade knife being opened in front of her covered face. Taking the knife he cut the tape from her wrists, temporarily giving her hope, only to be dashed when, using a pretied rope from the kit, he tied her wrists above her lead to the leg of a heavy, antique sofa.
"You look beautiful. I'll bet there are tears under that pillow case. Is your makeup running? Look, there is really no good way to do this so..." he grabbed her shirt by the collar and ripped the buttons and some of the fabric exposing her ample bosom covered by what appeared to be a very expensive bra. "You know, people are more afraid of a knife than a gun." He took the blade and lightly ran in it from her chin, down her throat and through the cleavage all the way to where her belt line was. She was scared.
The switchblade always gets them. He took the blade and traced all around her boobs, over the top spending extra time on her nipples. He knew she was his to do with as he pleased. Her hands tied above her head and her heaving boobs pointing toward the sky. How long would he stay? Were they both thinking that? He could go ahead and get it over with or he could mind fuck her a bit. He sat next to her on the floor and began to rub her pussy through her pants. He kissed her through the pillow case tenderly on the forehead. "You are mine," he whispered in her ear. "There is no need to fight, this is what you want, isn't it? I've watched you. I know you. You are mine. Don't fight me and you won't get hurt." With that he took the switchblade and cut through the fabric that encased her boobs. She gasped...and he laughed.
Now with her tits exposed he took the blade once again and traced it over them. Even gave her a bit of a stick on her nipples. Her breathing was rapid and he could hear what sounded like sobbing from under the pillowcase. Or was it moaning? Was she getting off? Wouldn't be the first time he had pleasured one of his targets.
He enjoyed this part of the game. Sitting next her gently stroking her with the back of his hand. No blade. He sipped his wine and her breathing became more normal. Relax my young beauty, he was thinking. Try not to worry, although he knew that was impossible. The question in his mind, and this is recurring, has she figured it out yet? Does she know it's him? They had never met, nor talked.
