In the twilight she slept, holding on to her pillow like a cherished lover. Her eyes moved under her lids, her dreams wild and frantic. Random images rolled through her mind as she shifted in her bed.
She dreamed of blue sky and thunder, smooth water in raging rivers. She saw herself walking through the desert but felt humidity found only in the jungle. In her dream her legs carried her with the swiftness of a cheetah, yet her arms felt lifeless, like she was weighed down, pinned by some unknown force.
She stirred some more, her long, milky white legs gliding over ivory satin sheets.
With a sudden jolt reality surrounded her. Her eyes flew open in terror, the feeling of being pinned down no longer a dream, but the actual state of things. She looked left and right quickly, saw her hands bound to the brass headboard, stretched as far as they could go. There was no room for the slightest movement.
She glanced around her bedroom, nothing seemed immediately out of sorts. She expected to see an assailant, the person that had bound her to her bed, but saw no one. Light was breaking through her window panes, and with each passing minute the room grew brighter. She instinctively pulled on her ties, but her hands were not going to be freed without assistance. Panic was slowly rising, and she began to scream for help.
Lifting her head, she called out for someone, anyone to please help her. She knew the effort was futile, the clock said 5 45 am, and her nearest neighbor was hardly within shouting distance. It occurred to her the alarm system had not been tripped, and she had not been wakened even during the binding of her wrists to cold brass bars. How had she ended up this way?
She lifted her head again to shout, then noticed the mirror over her dresser. The light was bright enough now to see there was writing on it. From her vantage point it seemed to be lipstick, letters were formed in thick, red smudgy lines.
HOW WILL IT FEEL TO BE MY WHORE??
She felt an involuntary intake of breath, and a surge of adrenaline that made her heartbeat quicken to an uncomfortable pace. Now her visual search became panicked. She could only move her head so much, bound as she was. Why was the intruder not showing himself? She began kicking her legs, sliding over the satin sheets. Her nightgown was was a fleshy pink silk, and her body skated over the bed surface with little friction. Her long red hair was becoming tangled the more she tossed and turned, and it began to cover her face. She had no way to clear it from covering her eyes.
She screamed again, only to be silenced quickly by a hand over her mouth. She tried to bite, but with a quick motion the hand was replaced with a gag of duct tape. She could see little through her tossled hair, but she could make out the figure of a man. A big man. She saw little however, for as soon as the tape was placed over her mouth the room went black as the man covered her eyes. The cloth covering her sight was soft, and instantly she noticed the strong odor of aftershave. It was familiar to her, and not entirely unpleasant. Being unable to speak, she found her mind in turmoil and began to thrash around once more. Finally he spoke.
"Do not fear for your life girl, I am not here to harm you. I am here only to use you in the way every man should use a woman. For a short time this morning, you will be my whore. The less you move, the quicker it will go."