I am really on edge now. My body is aching with desire. My thoughts are ragged, angry, haphazard. Pure unbridled lust. Lust without a hint of love or tenderness. She'd got me to this point and, by Christ, she was going to find out the consequences.
I'd only been here the once. With that skinny aging woman I'd picked up at the Wallaby one night. She was trailer trash. Literally. She lived at the caravan park on the road to Springwood. Reckoned she'd been a singer once but that was before the drugs and the divorce. Now she was just a doped-up alcoholic, living alone but rarely sleeping alone, trading sex for booze and drugs. I'd offered to take her home and she'd brought me here. Fuck, hadn't I worried about diseases after that night! Anyway, I digress...
I stop walking and she pauses too. I let her hand drop and she rubs her wrist, soothing away the pain of my grip. I bring my hands to the top of her head and lightly caress her; from the top of her head I stroke her hair, her shoulders, her arms, and then down the outside of her thighs. I feel her relax and breathe deeply. I then gently lead my hands back to her arms and, without need for words, guide them into the air above her head. Now relaxed, she obeys and stands there in front of me, arms aloft. Her cropped top has now risen to the bottom of her breasts and I can see her flat stomach and the shadow of her breasts in the night's pale light. Then I am upon her, grabbing at her top and ripping it roughly over her head, up her arms, and off before flinging it into the bush. God knows where. It's probably still there today.
Caught by surprise and scared again, she involuntarily steps back a pace before I grab her by the waist and, with the strength of the momentarily insane, lift her over my shoulder and carry her into the shed. It is dark inside and I drop her roughly to her feet. She overbalances and falls, landing heavily in the dark. Still no word passes from her lips though. Excellent, I think to myself. I feel about for the candles I'd seen my former conquest use and, upon locating one, light it and place it in the rough holder provided for such purpose, bathing the room in bouncing shadows and a pale, almost translucent, light.
I turn to locate her in the new half-light of the shed. She is half-lying, half-seated, where she fell a moment ago, and looking up at me with fear in her eyes. Good. I know she is thinking she's pushed me too far this time. Knows that I am here with no alibi and no other reason for living but to repay her for her manipulation of me. I walk to her and grab her by the arms, forcing her to her feet before half directing, half dragging her to the only vacant wall in the shed. I whip off my tee shirt and pull it end to end, producing a too-thick but still useable gag. Then it is wrapped about her head and held with one hand while I shove some of it at her mouth. She just stands there, shaking, her mouth tightly gripped with fear.
"You will do what you're told" I yell at her in the silence, my voice bouncing off the confined spaces of the shed, "or I promise you, you will pay..." With this I grab her breast and, without warning, twist it roughly as I push against her. She screams out in pain, giving me the only chance I need. Some tee shirt material is shoved into her mouth, pulled tight, and quickly tied about her head.
In real panic now, she grabs for the gag but in so doing she raises both arms, leaving them easy targets for me to secure. I hold them tightly and force them towards the rafters and painfully backwards while squeezing each tricep hard. "I fucking warned you, you ungrateful fucking whore!" I yell again. "We can do this one of two ways. you have the choice. What you have no choice about is that I am going to fuck you tonight. How, where, and at what time are my choices. The amount of pain and suffering? Well, you see, they're your choices." I emphasise my point by squeezing mercilessly on her arms. She gasps into her gag and goes slightly limp in my arms.
"Good. I see we have an understanding. I know you're wondering what the fuck is going on here. Well I'm not sure I can explain that. It's just something about the way you treated me tonight that makes me want to fuck you. My way. Now I know that if you don't want me to fuck you, then that makes it rape. and you know something? That sounds pretty fucking good to me. When I think about raping your poor defenceless self, that makes me hard. And the funny thing is? You know? I bet you don't know. The funny thing is..."
"The funny thing is, you see, that you fucking want to be raped. No, don't shake your head bitch!" I squeeze her arms again. "You're fucking gagging for it. No pun intended. Hah! That's what you really want. Your type always does. Just like that old whore I fucked up here one night. She said she didn't want it that way, but she did really. You fuck-toys always do."
"Now I'm going to let go of your arms. Do you want me to let go? Good. Now, when I let go of your arms, you are going to hold them up high. You will not do anything else and you will not move them until I allow it. Is that clear?"
She stands motionless. "I said, is that clear bitch!?"
She moves now. She has no choice. Her arms are thrust up and back once more , forcing her to fall backwards and cry out into her gag.
"Is that clear? Nod if it is Thank you. Good. I think we have an understanding. Now I'm letting go of your arms. Don't push me to really punish you. Don't fucking try anything you slut!"
With that I let go of her arms and she raises them, slowly, but obediently enough, above her head. Grabbing a rope that hung limply from a rafter, I tie a loose loop in it, about one third of the way down its length. Moving with speed borne of adrenalin and lust, I lower the loop over one arm and tighten it, the rough rope tearing at her wrist as it secures itself. Again a cry into the gag. but no disobedience. Damn. There was something about disobedience that I was starting to enjoy. The recriminations I believe....
Taking the loose end of the rope, I repeat the loop manufacture and secure it again, without mercy, to her other wrist. She is starting to look very tempting, half secured, arms voluntarily above her head, but now half fastened to the rafter. I grab an old milk crate from the junk pile in the corner, and empty it of some old stinking fishing net. I place the crate next to her as I grab the loose end of the rope. Using the crate for elevation I toss the rope end over the same rafter and grab it again on the other side, pulling hard on it as I do. Her body yanks suddenly backwards and up, towards the rafter to which she is now secured. This time I can hear the cry into the gag. A scream really. It is a scream of real pain and surprise, mixed liberally with blind fear. I hold the tension and observe her for a moment. Not bad. Arms outstretched now, pulled tight by her rope bindings, her body very upright. Part of her face is obscured by the bulky gag, but tears are still visible, flooding from her eyes. Eyes that look at me with fear and loathing. No, just fear. The hate would take the place of fear in time. There would be time enough for that later.
For now however, hate is my friend. My motivation. Hate floods my cock and makes it harder still as I watch her suffer. She is probably a pitiful sight, but there is no pity in me.
I pull again on the ropes, harder this time, like a pulley, and watch as she jerks upwards, now standing on the very front of her shoes, her heels elevated. Again a scream. Again my cock twitches in anticipation.
I hold the rope firmly against the rafter, then quickly loop it over again twice before tying it off. Her body lowers slightly from the rope-tying process, and her shoe heels are again just touching the shed's weathered floorboards. I reach down, watching her to make sure she didn't do anything really fucking stupid like try to kick me, and I flick off both shoes, leaving her half suspended, her weight painfully distributed in parts to her rope bonds and her toes.
