Rental Crisis

I awoke to the feeling of gentle motion. My mind felt groggy... I seemed to be waking in slow motion. Was it just me or was something covering my face...? There was an unfamiliar voice talking... It sounded far away.

"So you're okay for me to take the photos this afternoon yeah? You left the keys in the letter box like we discussed," said one man's voice.

"Yeah that's right, I won't be around until after 5 so take your time. I just want photos of the second bedroom, spare bathroom and living areas," replied another voice. It sounded like it was on speaker... Or Bluetooth?

Wait was I in a car? Lying down? The memories of what had just happened came flooding back to me. I had to move. I opened my eyes fully and realised there was some kind of black fabric covering my face, and there was something in my mouth, and what felt like tape over it. I couldn't see anything except the black sheer of fabric and vague lights moving. My breathing escalated quickly as I panicked. My legs were bound tightly I could not open them, my arms were tied behind my back and I was uncomfortably lying on them. There was no movement possible.

"No problem it will all be ready for advertisement by tomorrow," said the voice I realised was the realtors.

"Yeah no worries, Thanks for this Brendon I'll owe you a carton," replied the speaker voice.

"Nah all good, speak to you later," said the realtor and the call clicked. I heard the radio return and a pop song blasted loudly from either sides of my body, I felt a panic attack coming on. There was a lump in my throat, I tried to sit up but to no avail.

"Ah I see you're awake. Just try to breath, go slowly," the voice of the man I now knew to be Brendon replied. I stilled my body and carefully listened.

"Now I've put a clean cloth in your mouth and duct taped it shut, you also have a pillow slip over your head. I'm taking you somewhere private to show you okay, you just need to listen to me and everything will be okay... I want you to move your head if you understand me."

I paused and processed what he said, what was he going to do with me, what did somewhere private mean?... I moved my head up and down. I needed to keep this guy happy. Who the fuck did this to women? Why was he doing this to me? Was this the first time he had done this?

"Good... Now If you are good for the rest of the journey you are going to make your life much easier in the near future okay?

I want you to show me how good you are going to be by being absolutely still and breathing calmly, I'll be watching," he commanded.

I felt out of control. I felt like I was a robot watching everything happen to my body. This wasn't happening to me, I just needed to operate this girl I was watching to be still and to breathe. I focused on a dark patch of fabric and instructed my body to breathe. I felt oddly calm. This wasn't real, I just had to control this body I was in, watching from afar. I focused on the dark patch and nothing else, I didn't let her move a muscle.

I felt my body rock sidewards and the car slowly drove over what felt like a curb. There was a sound like a garage door opening and closing. I remained still, she just needed to be still. The music had stopped and It was instant relief. I heard a car door open and bang shut, I twitched from fright at the sound. Everything was so loud, amplified. His steps sounded like thunderclaps, I heard electricity buzzing somewhere.

The boot behind me opened and I heard loud shuffling and movement of items, followed by a loud bang of the boot being closed. I could feel the body I was in being drenched in sweat. There was unlocking and opening of doors, followed by closing of doors. His footsteps were muffled now, and the beep-beep of the car being locked externally pierced my ears like a nail being hammered straight into my ear drum. I listened carefully. He was clearly inside the house now, walking around. The robot in my mind controlling me, instructed me to try and remove the pillow slip off my head. I wiggled and shimmed down slowly moving the fabric up my face. The time expanded into what felt like hours.

Finally the slip was off my eyes. I looked up at the ceiling of the car. Dark carpet. I strained my eyes to try and see out of the window, dark bricks. A fluorescent light was on in the garage. That must be the electricity I could hear. I turned my head to see the driver's seat. There was an empty coffee cup in the cup holders but nothing else I could see. The door to the garage opened with a sharp click and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I tried to shimmy the slip back onto my face by wiggling down but only got it as far down as my nose, leaving my taped mouth revealed.

"Tsk tsk trying to get your mask off I see," I heard from outside of the car.

The door above my head opened and I could hear my heart hammering in my chest. The fabric was ripped from my head quickly and I saw his face above me staring down at me, the fluorescent light behind him making it painful to look towards him.

"Good god you look beautiful bound like that. I bet you enjoy not having to worry about talking you funny thing," he growled deeply down at me.

His face disappeared and I closed my eyes to avoid the painful peirce of the light. The door by my feet opened and I felt strong hands pull my bent knees towards him. There was something cold pressed against my skin briefly followed by the sound of a knife cutting tape from between my legs. I opened my eyes and saw a large knife being pressed gently over the top of my jeans from the top of my thigh down towards my knee, his other hand on my knee. He reached one hand up and placed it on my shoulder, pulling me up to sit at the edge of the seat with my feet on the floor of the garage. I felt sick. Nauseous to the extreme. I stared at him defiantly trying to memorise every aspect of his face. I remember reading that many victims of crime remember more about the weapon used on them than their attacker. If I got out of this I wanted to remember his face. He had piercing blue eyes, a sharp jawline, clean shaved face, and a small mole on his neck. He was grinning at me.

"Oh if looks could kill..." He laughed.

He moved the knife to my throat and pressed down. I gulped.

"Now listen. I'm going to take your gag off, give you a drink of water, and take you inside. If you scream or yell I will hurt you. Nod if you understand," he threatened.

I nodded and he ripped the duct tape off roughly and pulled the fabric out of my mouth.

I breathed freely and smacked my lips together, I was parched from the dryness of the fabric and my anxiety, I stayed silent looking down at my legs. I hated myself for a second as I became aware that I was excited for this... sexually. What the hell was wrong with me? I liked having pre-arranged dominant figures in my sex life, not this.

"Good, now drink this," he gently placed his forefinger and thumb on my chin and tilted my head up slightly, and holding a water bottle to my lips.

He started pouring water to my mouth and I felt instant relief, I was so thirsty it hurt. I struggled to keep up as he poured the water into my mouth until at least half the bottle was gone. I felt the sudden desire for him to slap me. I wanted to be hurt by him.

I started to choke on the water and he withdrew the bottle, after getting my breath back I looked at the bottle he was holding and noticed that the water was slightly cloudy. Oh god. What did I just consume? I stared again at his face, my jaw tensed and determination in my mind to resist him in anyway I safely could.

He smirked, "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you'll be good for me, now get up".

I felt my pussy tingle at the word "sweetheart", I couldn't believe myself. This was the last situation in the world I should be getting horny about.

He gripped my shoulder again and directed me out of the car, "Walk".

I took some slow steps and felt his hand grip my forearms tightly, his other hand pointing the tip of the knife against the small of my back. I still felt that I wasn't truely in my body. I felt like I was watching myself walk, my limbs feeling clunky and clumsy. I had an intrusive thought to push myself against the tip of the knife, some pain would at least hopefully help me snap out of this sick pleasure part of me was clearly excited about.

Inside was a modern kitchen lit softly with yellow light, with an open space living area with a L shaped couch, dining room and open archway leading to what looked like a hallway. He pushed me into the hallway and into a sparse room. There was a double bed with a plan wooden frame pushed into a corner with a window opposite with the blind pulled down. I wasn't really here. Not really. This isn't happening.

He gently sat me down on the bed and pulled a rope from his back pocket. I stared at his hands hazily, watching him strap my ankle to the corner of the bed frame with a complicated knot, his fingers moving slowly and intricately. Something felt tight around my ankle and I stared down, barely comprehending the rope tied there. I was like a dog tied onto the bed with a short leash. I pulled against the restraint and felt pleasure from the pressure it placed on my ankle.

I looked up and he was gone. My blinks were getting slower. My eye lids were heavy and I seemed to have no thoughts. I felt passive. What seemed like an eternity passed, then he was back. I stared slowly up and him and tried to verbalise a protest however only gibberish sounds came out. His figure waved in and out of my vision somehow.

I felt my body be pushed back onto the bed. I stared up at a yellow stain on the ceiling. I felt coarse hands roll me over and my arms were released from their binds. A knife was placed down on the mattress in front of my eyes and I felt my shirt being pulled up, with my limp arms awkward for my undressor. I liked this feeling of being used like a doll.

"Jeez that's hit you hard hasn't it, most people are much more aware than you. You're just completely gone aren't you...," I hear vaguely, I try to speak an answer but I just slur a vowel. I hear a soft laugh.

I'm rolled over onto my back again. I look at him while his fingers manipulate the button and zip of my jeans. I feel my vagina contract in excitement while his hand grazed against my crotch to undo my pants. That same unidentifiable look I had seen on him before was back, but know I knew what it was, a sick hunger. My jeans were roughly being pulled down revealing my plain black underwear and star wars thigh tattoos. His finger traced over them and he murmured something I didn't understand. My shoes were already off somehow. He was gone again and I heard clicking, a camera on a tripod was in my view.

My undershirt was being pulled up over my face and I looked down at my breasts. I watched them being touched and squeezed by two big hands. I was angry, but I wanted him to hurt me. I wanted him to slap me, to spank me... I couldn't operate my body, everything was so heavy. I felt wetness on my forearms and rolled my head to look at him kissing scars on my arms.

He was lifting my hips up easily to pull down my underwear speedily, I managed to slur out "No" despite my ongoing excitement and rush of pleasure I felt as he moved me around with such ease and obvious disregard for my safety. My feeble "no" did not deter him. He pushed my legs apart and I felt wetness on his fingers as he slid between my labia.

"Oh my god you're so wet, you're enjoying this aren't you? I can't believe you are such a whore, I did not expect that," his voice called out. I felt my face flush with heat, with shame and embarrassment. I did not want this... even if I did...

Suddenly his cock was out, I stared as if trapped behind bars immobile. He was rolling a condom on and pushing my legs up, it hurt everytime he thrusted against my cervix. I couldn't help but trying to move myself in his rhythm. Rocking my body over and over, i felt small whimpers escape my lips which seemed to drive him into a frenzy, fucking me harder and harder. I loved it even more.

My face was stinging, "Snap out of it, fight me a little". I realised my face had been slapped hard. My ear was ringing. He was shaking my body roughly like a doll, clasping onto my arms. I couldn't be happier, I got what I had wanted, to be slapped, and hard. My previous partners had never wanted to actually hurt me, they were always so concerned about making sure I was okay, even when all I wanted was them not to care at all. Things were in greater focus.

I saw the knife on the inside of my forearms against white scars, blood was trickling warmly down to the tips of my fingers. I twisted against him only to feel resistance. I tried to push upwards blood smearing on his chest, he was more forceful. I was ecstatic, my pussy screamed in pleasure at his easy dominance over me. This was bad right? He spun me around to push my stomach against the bare mattress, his hand placed against my face pressing hard into my cheek and jaw.

"That's better slut, fight me like you don't want to become a whore," growled a voice.

I yelled out an incomprehensible word only to feel another slam of force onto my face from the back of a hand. He was inserting himself into my vagina forcefully again, slamming his hips against me causing me pain everytime. My eyes were wet but i felt myself smirk in a shameful enjoyment of his disregard of me as a human. The worse he treated me the more I felt like I wanted this.

Things stopped moving with a shuddering gasp and grunt from the figure behind me. I was becoming more aware of the stickiness of sweat covering my body, the pain across my body, the sting of my face, forearm and ankle. How long has passed? There was an absence of his presence for a stretch of time. I felt empty.