She came home that night from shopping, tired, annoyed, ready for bed. The door to her duplex was unlocked. Had she forgotten again? Damn, not smart. With one hand loaded down with bags, half way into her home, she groped blindly around the door jam, trying to find the light.
Suddenly, there is a rough hand over her mouth, another in her short hair, pulling her back into the living room. Distantly, she hears the crash of jars on the tiled foyer floor and the door slams shut. Adrenaline pumps violently through her body, making it hard to breath around the hand, let alone scream. Both arms flail around, trying to catch hold of the hands. A leg trips her up and she's on the floor, with him above, straddling her hips. She pushes with her legs and hips, but it's useless, he's way too big. Both hands are above her head, and he smashes his mouth into hers, blocking any noises and she feels a cord of some sort wrapped around her wrists.
He lets go of her hands and then he's ripping her thin tank top off. She tries to bring her arms up to hit him, but the angle's wrong and she can feel him laugh into her mouth. A rough voice growls, "Keep quiet bitch, or you'll get hurt." He binds the remains of her top around her head, covering her eyes and nose. An indrawn breath let go. She's afraid to scream.
In the darkness, she is picked up and a blanket is wrapped around her, head to toes. By the smell she can tell it isn't one of hers, slightly musky like it hasn't been used in a long while. There is the sound of a door being opened and closed as she's carried outside, then pushed into the back seat of a car. The ignition starts and the car is moving.
Several turns and a few minutes later the car stops. She can hear the man get out of the car. Alone, she builds up her courage and begins to struggle with the tightly wrapped blanket, wondering how long he'll be gone. Hearing footsteps outside a minute or two later, she freezes.
The car door opens, "Tut, tut, not being a very good girl are we?" Blanket and all, she is dragged bodily out of the car and carried inside and dropped to a carpeted floor, rolled out of the blanket. Unable to help herself, she hears her voice, shaky, "Where are we?" Her answer is the clicking of metal on metal and a new surge of fear rushes through her, almost nauseating in its intensity. Something cold and metal touches her ankle, making her jerk, but a strong hand holds her still as she feels a pair of shears cut her jeans off her. First one leg, then the other, along with her panties then her bra. She lays there shivering, bound and naked on the floor as she hears a door close. Then silence.
Breathing hard she can smell some kind of incense faintly. Her hands skitter over her makeshift blindfold, but she doesn't remove it. Curled into a fetal position she waits for what feels like forever.
Something soft slithers over the skin of her back and ass. It seems familiar, but she can't concentrate on it, all her other senses straining to figure out where he is. There is a hiss, of something rushing through the air, and then a smack as it, whatever it is, strikes her flesh. First the sting, then heat, then the itch. Over and over again it hits her, not brutally, but hard enough that it's making her flinch in anticipation. She tries to roll onto her back, but a booted foot on her hip keeps her in place as he works up and down her back, over her ass and down her legs.
As suddenly as it started, the punishing stops and she hears something drop to the floor next to her. The voice above her whispers, "You're so pretty all tied up... so soft and totally helpless. Such a pretty plaything." She senses him moving, then she can smell him, he must be very close, an unfamiliar cologne and male. Flesh touches her cheek and the voice sneers, "Open your mouth toy. Suck me if you don't want to get hurt."
