Isabelle jolted awake to feel the cool night air blowing across her chilled skin. She absently reached for her comforter hoping to feel its warmth on her bare shoulders. She patted the bed searching for the hefty down comforter but it wasn't within reach. Sighing, she sat up and grabbed a hold of the sheet to cover her breasts.
Where was the damn comforter anyway? She supposed she could have kicked it off, but she wasn't a wild sleeper and usually stayed put most of the night. Isabelle scooted down to the end of the bed to look for the comforter. It was there piled in a heap on the floor. She grabbed the comforter up and arranged it on top of the sheet.
It wasn't until she was settled back into her warm cocoon that she began to wonder why it was so cold in the room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she noticed the curtains were lightly billowing from the open windows. Isabelle felt a chill move down her spine knowing that she had not opened the windows before going to bed.
Suddenly her warm bed didn't feel so safe. Isabelle jumped out of bed and turned on the light. The room didn't appear quite so sinister in the warm glow, but she didn't let her guard down until she had checked out the bathroom and closet. A brief check through the rest of the house reassured her that no one was inside.
"Well, that's that then. I must be losing it." Isabelle muttered to herself.
She closed the windows and straightened the curtains, then turned off all the lights except for her closet light. She cracked the door to allow some light into the room because she was still chicken enough to want a light on. She hopped back into bed determined to stop this nonsense and get back to sleep.
Isabelle was just drifting back to sleep when a hand dropped over her mouth.
"Don't scream." The voice said casually, in a deep, rich, melodic tone. The words were spoken as if they had met on the street and he was asking her for the time. The pressure of his hand was light, as if he expected no resistance.
Isabelle's eyes flew open to see a man standing over her, his silhouette outlined by the closet light. His face was obscured by the light at his back, only an outline of a large man could be seen. Isabelle felt a pang of fear, not sure if she could scream anyway as the panic clogged her throat.
"You understand what I'm saying Isabelle? I'm asking you not to scream, I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you disobey me. So if I take my hand away, you're not to scream, understood? Just nod if you do." There it was again, that casual, low growl.
How did this man know her name? Isabelle knew she must not panic. She closed her eyes and opened them again. She wondered if she was dreaming or if this was really happening. Surely this wasn't real she thought, but when she opened her eyes her attacker's silhouette remained shadowed in the now eerie closet light. So she slowly nodded.
"Good. I see you understand me." He said, still not removing his hand. "I need to secure your hands Isabelle. And maybe your feet, I don't need you interfering with my work, you understand don't you? Nod for me if you do."
Isabelle nodded her compliance, afraid to move for fear of what he meant by "work". Her eyes followed his movements as he pulled something out of his pocket and moved towards her face. His hand left her mouth and was quickly replaced with rough material, which he tied at the back of her head. Isabelle knew that once she was bound there would be no escape from this man. She began to squirm as the panic overtook her.
The man leaned down close to Isabelle's ear and whispered, "Remember what I said Isabelle, I don't want to hurt you but I will if I have to. Stop fighting me."
Strangely enough, his calmly spoken words had the desired effect and since Isabelle had no desire to get hurt she stopped her squirming and decided to save her energy to plan for a better escape.
"Good, I see you decided to listen to me. It really wouldn't have done you any good to fight me anyway Isabelle." The man chuckled with amusement.
Isabelle watched in fear as his hands moved to hers, pulling them above her head and securing them tightly together. He then moved to stand at the end of the bed, his eyes devouring his prey with her hands trussed up in the bed.
He grabbed the comforter and flung it to the ground as if suddenly impatient to see more of his prize. He stood back and looked at Isabelle's body under the thin sheet. Her breasts were plainly visible in the stream of light emanating from the closet. Suddenly conscious of the sheet brushing against her nipples, Isabelle squirmed under the sheet, hoping he wouldn't notice her nipples stiffening.
He tugged the sheet down a little, the fabric grazing her nipples and ending on her midriff. Her breasts were now exposed, the nipples raised and stiff. Isabelle looked up at him to see what his reaction was, and while she couldn't see his face, she sensed his satisfaction at making her respond.
The sheet moved down more, every small movement felt like a hundred needles piercing her skin. Isabelle couldn't understand why she was responding like this. This was a complete stranger in her house tying her up and about to rape her. Well, not a complete stranger, he knew her name. Somehow that was little comfort. And yet despite all that, her nipples were stiff, her stomach felt fluttery and there was a distinct pooling of heat in her womb.
Tug, the sheet moved down again, the fabric settling just above her pubic mound. Her pubic hair seemed ultra sensitive, the sheet heavy enough to rustle the hair but too light to ease the growing ache. Her hips jutted up involuntarily, seeking more pressure.
"Hmmm, look at that pussy. It looks hungry Isabelle." The man's hand hovered over her mound. "I wonder how hungry." He said as he lightly traced the shape of her through the sheet.
Isabelle felt her insides clench at his crude words. She did not want to respond to this man, to his words, to his deeds, but she was powerless to stop him. She was powerless to stop her body from reacting. A low moan escaped from her throat as she realized the hopelessness of her situation.
"I know what you're thinking Isabelle; you're wondering why your body is betraying you. You're thinking about how to get out of this." He said almost kindly, his hand still hovering over her mound. "But I'm going to tell you right now Isabelle; there is no getting out of this. That's why I tied you up, because I don't want those thoughts to disrupt what's going to happen, what you're going to feel, or maybe its part of it and I want your fear, I want you to feel helpless when I make your pussy come for me. Don't bother to respond, it doesn't really matter what you think anyway, my sweet little pussy."
Isabelle tried to suck in her breath at his matter of fact statement but the cloth covering her mouth prevented her from getting much air. This man expected her to come for him? Was he crazy? Didn't he watch the news? Rape was a power crime not a sexual one, at least that's what they always said.
Down the sheet went once more, scraping her thighs and leaving her mound open to his gaze. She felt more than saw his eyes moving down her body, they went from her breasts, down her stomach and over her now increasingly swollen lips. Isabelle shuddered at the arousal swimming through her veins caused by his visual violation.
His hands had not touched her save for his hand over her mouth and his torturous outlining of her pussy, and yet she was more aroused than she had ever been before. His gaze felt hot on her exposed skin, leaving a warm trail that ran from her breasts to her toes. The cold room was now a distant memory as the heat from within replaced any chill she may have had.
His fingers gripped the sheet and slowly pulled the rest of it off, leaving her naked body completely exposed in the dim light. Isabelle suddenly felt self-conscious, aware of the fact that she was not a young woman with a perfect body. Marriage and two kids will do that to you.
She wasn't a complete lost cause, her breasts were full and heavy, her hips rounded and lush and she had a nice ass, or so her husband had always told her. Then she wondered why she even cared, this man was raping her for crying out loud. But she did care; she wanted him to want her. She hated admitting that to herself but it was true, this man had brought forth in her a fire she hadn't felt in years and she needed it quenched.
"Your body is beautiful Isabelle, hmm, perfect for my needs. You have an ass that begs to be spanked, and those tits, my, my, I can't wait to get my hands on those. And don't you worry that pretty head of yours; I will get to that pussy but only if you do what I ask." He drawled out, his voice lower than before.
Isabelle just watched helplessly as he moved from the end of the bed to stand next to her. She tried to get a better look at his face but the light behind him made it impossible. All she could see was shadows of an angular face framed by what looked like dark hair but in the dark she couldn't be sure.
"Tighten your pussy for me Isabelle."
The words were spoken softly, too softly. Isabelle reacted instantly, her insides contracting violently, reaching, searching for something, what she didn't know. His voice set off a flow of heat emanating from her core. And still he had not touched her aching skin.
"Turn over." Again the voice was low and soft, issuing a command he fully expected her to obey.
Isabelle knew it was useless to object, besides how could she? She brought her hands down in an effort to turn over. She rolled over onto her stomach and turned her head towards him. She felt his eyes moving over her backside, down the arch of her back, and over her full bottom. She couldn't help the moan in her throat when she brushed against the bed. She pushed deeper into the bed, knowing he was watching her undulate against the mattress.
