Night Jogger

Kayla got home as late as she always did after a day shift and she went upstairs to change before she did anything else. She discarded her pale blue nurse scrubs in the hamper in the bedroom and dressed in her yoga outfit and headed out to the garage at the back of the house. When she had moved in with Brandon he had converted half of the garage into a small gym for her last birthday. He had even laid down thick foam mats across the concrete floor and walled off that half of the garage from his tool shop in the other half. She loved it in there and she clicked on the stereo and went to get a bottle of water from the shelf before she started her stretching and limbering up. She flowed smoothly from the stretches into her yoga routine and by the end of it she had lost all of the tension and stress of her day in the emergency ward of the hospital. She loved her job as a nurse, but she would be so happy when her turn at working in the ER was over. She tucked her water bottle into the sling at her belt and slipped out the back door, crossed the street and started jogging down the path that led into the city park that was right behind Brandon's house. She loved the proximity to both work and this park that his place had and she felt safe jogging along the trails that cris-crossed the open spaces, even at night.

It was a half moon that night and there was plenty of light for her to see by as she trotted along slowly, setting her ear buds in place and getting her playlist going before she tucked the MP3 player into the sheathe on her arm and then she started jogging faster, wanting to feel the burn of her muscles as she really pushed them. She jogged blithely past a copse of trees, her blonde ponytail bobbing with her movement and her legs working with the effort of her long strides and she didn't see the taller form step out from among the trees and start jogging after her. The form was obviously male, he was taller than Kayla and strong looking and he ran with an effortless stride that testified to a familiarity with exercise. He followed her at a bit of a distance, his head and face hidden by his hood, his body clad in dark green sweats that were picked to blend in with the shadows. The park was empty aside from the two of them and Kayla, oblivious, ran on through the dark of the night with him steadily gaining on her.

* * * * *

She first noticed him as she took a sharp bend in the trail and something caught her eye. She turned her head, almost dismissive of it, thinking it a branch or her own ponytail seen from the corner of her eye. But she just caught him as he passed through a pool of moonlight and her heart gave a lurch. She hadn't even known he was back there... How long had he been following her? She tried to calm her nerves, dismissing the idea that it was anything other than another person out for a jog...

...at one AM...

...alone...

...in a hoodie and sweat pants...

...in august...

...on a warm night...

She put on a bit more speed and tried to distance herself from the person as her own mind tried to creep her out to the point of no return. She jogged on for a few minutes before she glanced back again and saw that he was still right behind her, and even closer now than he was before. Her heart kicked up another notch and she could feel the blood pounding in her ears as she shifted from a jog to an outright run, almost sprinting down the trail toward a stand of trees. She glanced back again and saw that he was pounding after her and for a moment she was sure she could see a smile on his face as he drew a little closer... a little closer... Fully panicking she turned back the the front and ran as fast and as hard as she could, sprinting full out toward the trees and she was completely unprepared when her foot hit the line strung across the trail and she was sent sprawling on the ground.

A moment later her pursuer had caught her and she couldn't even scream as hands grabbed at her legs, dragging her off of the trail. The breath had been blasted from her lungs, she could feel where the dirt trail had abraded her arms and legs and she had been damn lucky not to break her nose or worse. As it was her breasts ached from her impact and she felt what promised to be a royal bitch of an ache tomorrow. If there was a tomorrow.

Her breath started to come back to her as the stranger flipped her over onto her back. He was straddling her waist and she tried to see his face, to see anything recognizable about him for later, but among the trees it was far too dark, so she clawed at his face with her nails, meaning to mark him up enough that he would be easy to find. Her hands were slapped aside and she drew a shuddering breath, tasting blood on her lips as he settled across her hips to effectively pin her legs. She tried to scream but coughed and hacked instead as she got a lung full of dust and leaves. She was struggling as hard as she could with him, but he was so much larger and stronger than she was that she had little chance against him and frustration and terror welled up in her.

She was close to passing out from all of it as he pinned her wrists over her head and held them there with one hand, the other grasped the front of her shirt and yanked hard enough to tear it down the front. She gritted her teeth and tried to buck him off of her hips, tried to fight him any way she could as he tore at her bra, stretching the fabric hard enough that she could hear the elastic popping, but not hard enough to break it. He grunted and yanked it up and she felt her breasts spill free of the cups, felt the air against her warm skin and she had to fight hard not to just give up. She felt tears spill down her cheeks as he released her bra and grasped one full, soft mound with his big hand and squeeze hard. She cried out, her first clean breath lost to the sound as a sob escaped her throat. She felt so weak and helpless, so alone and lost and as his mouth came to her throat she couldn't do anything but grit her teeth and try to move away.

She was trapped, pinned against the dirt and leaves and her attacker hadn't said a word to her. But he didn't really need to, his actions were speaking loudly enough for him and his intentions were very clear to her even before his hand slipped down from her breast and across the flat, firm plane of her tummy. She bucked her hips and squeezed her thighs together , arched her back and tried to bite him, anything at all to get him off of her, to make him stop. She never stopped fighting and it was having something of an effect on him, he couldn't get his hand into her pants and he couldn't free his other hand to deal with her or he risked losing an eye to her nails. She felt a surge of hope as he snarled a swear word and sat up some. She took the opportunity to spit at his face, her teeth bared and her muscles straining to break free as he strained to keep her still. She was breathing heavily and sweating and she was glaring at the stranger, his face still hidden by his hood. She wasn't just going to give up and let him rape her, she was going to fight him for every inch, make him regret ever even thinking about doing this to her. Adrenaline had made her stronger than she normally was, and while she knew she would be paying for this effort tomorrow, it was better than the alternative. She braced herself for him to hit her, for a slap or a punch, for a choke or a bite, but he never did any of those. Instead he shifted and moved to sit across her abdomen, letting all of his weight settle across her belly and she grunted and groaned as she fought to breathe.

He was a clever bastard, but she wondered why he wasn't striking her, why he wasn't using his fists or his hands to beat her into submission. She had seen rape victims before and they all had the same bruises and fractures and injuries from their attackers. So why wasn't he beating her? He was too clever, that's why. Instead of using pain and brutality to defeat her resistance, he was using her own body against her. As his weight settled more and more onto her stomach, she found it harder and harder to draw a full breath. Within seconds she was gasping for air and within a minute she could see stars exploding and careening across her vision as he slowly asphyxiated her. She couldn't keep up her fighting and resistance in the face of the positional asphyxia he was subjecting her to. She groaned as her arms fell limp, her vision narrowed down to a tunnel with his dark, hidden face at the end of it.

She felt him let her go and saw him rummaging around in a pack at his waist and she tried to file away everything she saw later, for the police. She couldn't even struggle as he pulled a length of duct tape off of the roll he took from his pouch and he bound her wrists with it, crossing them and winding the tape around in both directions several times to secure her hands. Then he let her arms go and he tore her shirt from her, the ruined garment parting further as he pulled and she coughed as he shifted to let her breathe a little more. But he wasn't done with her yet. He tore a long strip from the shirt and tied that around her wrists, then bend her elbows and tied the cloth around her throat. If she struggled she would choke herself and she couldn't bring her hands to bear against him any longer.

She sobbed as she gulped for air and her throat was raw from all that had happened so far. As he moved to pull her shoes off she kicked weakly, still trying to resist as she struggled with the bonds on her hands and discovered what she already knew, too much pulling with her arms would choke her, and she didn't want to be unconscious with this man, she might never wake up again. She watched him, hate and spite on her face as he stripped her stretchy yoga pants down her legs and off, then reached for her panties.

"No... dammit no..." She grunted, barely audible as he grasped her leg to keep her from rolling away and he started pulling her panties down.

She squeezed her thighs together and tried to bend her knees, but he gave her ass a hard, loud slap and she squealed, writhing involuntarily for a moment and that was all it took for him to get the garment down and off of her legs. She was clad in the ruins of her shirt and bra as he moved back up her body. She had just started to get her fight back and she was glaring at him as she sucked air through her teeth and when she opened her mouth to scream he shoved the wad of her panties into her mouth and she gagged, choking on them as he slapped a hand over her lips to keep her from spitting them out again. She grunted and struggled as he grabbed the roll of tape again and used his teeth to free a strip and tear it off. His hand moved from her mouth and the tape replaced it and she couldn't make any sounds aside from grunts and moans as she glared at him. She could just make out part of his face and she tried, strained to make out the rest without success as he lowered his head down and started to kiss and suck at her breasts. She whined into her gag and tried to fight him, but her instincts to use her arms kept making her choke herself and despite her best efforts he was slowly forcing her legs apart little by little.

She knew what was coming, knew what he was going to do and she hated him with every fibre of her being. Not for raping her, not for actually making her a victim, but for making her feel like a victim. She twisted and turned and fought him to the bitter end. Even as she felt her legs part against his merciless advance, even as she watched him push his own pants down and free his cock, even as she felt his hard, hot rod at her entrance she fought him constantly, glaring at him, trying to see his face, trying to identify him somehow, never surrendering even as he rolled his hips and plunged deep into her body. She arched her back at the feeling and her eyes looked at the path. It was so nearby, so close, but separated by a few trees and some long grass. Would anyone who happened by even see her from there? Could she make enough noise to attract attention? She hoped against all hope that someone would come and find her, would catch him in the act and bring him to justice. Even as his cock filled her gushing wet hole, the taste of her own sex filling her throat and his hungry mouth sucking and biting at her bare breasts she denied him. She denied how her body was reacting, how wet her pussy was and how hard her nipples were, how aroused she was feeling as he grunted and thrust into her body. He felt tears escaping her and the sounds she was making, the animal grunts and feral moans, the choking noises and the hissing of her breath through gaps in the tape all turned to sobs slowly as she realized that she had been defeated, that he had beat her.

He thrust hard, deep and even into her as if he were familiar with her body, familiar with what she liked. He was hitting all the right spots almost on accident and it felt good. But to Kayla it was a betrayal by her body and she hated herself for it even as the orgasm tore through her core. Her legs had wrapped around his waist and she was as open for him as she had ever been for a lover she knew. She had no control over herself, no ability to stop and no way to make him quit. She felt him shift so he was kneeling and she was pulled up into his lap, still laying back and glaring up at him with her eyes clouded over with lust and hate as he moved her body, his hands on her hips, grasping her flesh with bruising strength and she loved it, loved the way it made her feel and the way her body was clenching up around his thick cock. And she hated herself for loving the way that it felt, hated her body for reacting to him this way, even though she knew that it was a purely autonomic physical response to stimuli. She had no control over it and no way to turn it on or off.

The tape on her mouth was coming loose with sweat and saliva as he grunted and thrust deep into her, bottoming out against her cervix and it came loose as she rolled with his hard thrusts. She gulped for air around the panties in her mouth and weakly tried to push them out with her tongue. She was having trouble forming coherent thoughts, forming anything other than the roiling mix of hate and guilt, despair and pleasure that was the very base of her entire being at that moment. As the second orgasm washed through her she cried out in pleasure, a long moan that was muffled some by the wad of sodden cloth in her mouth and her back arched hard as her sex clamped down on the cock of this pillaging stranger. She choked a little and turned her head, spitting out the wad and immediately disintegrating into sobs as she felt him spend into her pussy. The wash of his cum was hot and stinging against her abraded flesh and she felt sick, nauseous and disgusted, dirty and suddenly very vulnerable as he slowed to a stop, letting her rest in the dirt and grass. As his hands relaxed their grip she slid off of his cock and out of his lap, her legs spread and her pussy splayed, their mixed fluids churned to a froth on her skin while a steady stream of his seed leaked from her body. She had no idea that it was possible to feel this violated and she lay there, limp, surrendering at last now that it was done and there was no reason to fight any longer.

Her attacker shifted and adjusted his clothes and she looked up at him, trying one last time to see his face, to see anything that would identify him and she saw him pull something else out of the pouch around his waist. When the blade flashed open and she saw the moonlight glint on the cold steel of the knife she froze in terror.

* * * * *

Kayla felt suddenly so cold that her bladder emptied and she started sobbing. She had fought as hard as she could, she was exhausted and covered in dirt and sweat and she felt filthy. But it had all been for nothing. She wouldn't get the chance to feel sore tomorrow, she wouldn't get the chance to talk to the police, to try and identify her attacker. Because he was going to be her killer as well. She suddenly wished Brandon was there... he had gotten her ring size last week and she was sure he had bought a ring. She knew that he had gone to meet her father over a few beers the other night and she was sure... positive, that at their anniversary next week he was going to propose to her. But now she would never get the chance to say yes, never get the opportunity to walk down the aisle or blush for pictures. She would never get the chance to tell him that she loved him, or that she was...

Fighting hadn't worked, she hadn't been able to run away from him or escape him, hadn't been able to dissuade him with her actions. She hadn't seen his face or anything else to identify him and she hadn't managed to keep him from taking what he wanted from her... hell, she hadn't even been able to hide how good she had felt as he fucked her so hard and so deep. She hadn't just liked it, she had loved it and she knew that he could tell. But the last thing she had to try was begging. She was sobbing as she looked at the knife, as her life flashed before her eyes and she felt the moment of her death coming. But before he could kill her she would beg him not to.

"Please..." She said as tears streamed down her cheeks, as her heart hammered in her chest and her entire body went numb and then hyper-sensitive in anticipation of the ungentle caress of that cold blade. "Please don't do this... just leave me here, I promise I won't tell."S he pleaded, meaning it for that instant, hoping that he believed that she really wouldn't. But he said nothing, reaching for her with his free hand as the other hand shifted the blade toward her throat. She had a brief vision of the knife parting her skin, parting the flesh beneath and her blood sheeting across the ground as her heart pumped her life out of the cut in her neck.

"Please!" she begged again, her voice breaking in terror as the blade got closer and closer. "I'M PREGNANT!" She almost shouted, the truth evident in her voice and her attacker froze. She felt a fresh surge of hope and she beseeched him with her eyes as she sobbed.

"Please, please don't kill me... I'm pregnant... Please don't kill my baby." She said as she watched him watching her and she could just make out the shock that registered on his face.

"Pregnant?" He asked in a low voice and she recognized it immediately, knew who he was instantly. Several things all became clear to her at once...

...the way he had been careful not to hit her, especially her face...

...how he had been careful when he subdued her...

...the only time he really struck her was when he slapped her ass...

...how he seemed to know just how she liked to be fucked...

...how familiar he was with her body...

...realization flooded over her and with it came memories she had almost forgotten.

"Brandon?!" She asked and as he pushed his hood back and bared his face to her it all came flooding back at once. It had been more than a year since that night, since that conversation...

* * * * *

She set her glass down and looked across at Brandon, he could tell she was serious from the way she set her shoulders. He sipped at his beer and toyed with the half empty glass for a bit as he let her statement soak in.

"So..." He said finally, testing the waters carefully. "What you want is basically 'Surprise Sex'?" He asked and she shook her head firmly. "I didn't think so. You know that I can't actually rape you, right?" He asked and she laughed a little.

"Brandon, the illusion is possible. We both love it when we get rough, and the other day when you woke me up with sex..." she shivered and hugged herself in delight. "That was great. For a minute I didn't know who you were and I panicked and I was wetter and more turned on than I ever have been before in my life." She said with a smile and he smiled back. He had seen the fear on her face, felt the tension in her and the sudden gushing wetness between her legs, how hot she had suddenly become and the little squeals that she had made s he slipped through her, how she had cum hard and early.