Peering out the window, Carol saw that it was still raining. Would it ever stop? She has things to do, doesn't mother nature know this? With a sigh she turns and heads for the laundry room. Surely she'd find something to do in there. With Tom, her husband, working construction six days a week, there was never an end to the laundry that needed to be done.
She was right, there were several piles of clothes that needed to be washed. Just as she's about to bend over and start on the first pile, suddenly an arm comes from behind her and a gloved hand is placed tightly against her mouth. Another arm wrap around her from the other side tightly across her stomach, just beneath her breasts. Instinctively she reaches up and tries to pry the hand from her mouth as her screams are muffled. But it's no use, she's powerless against the strength of her assailant. Even her kicking goes unnoticed.
"Just be quiet and I won't hurt you," growls a deep voice just behind her ear. Shaking, Carol's mind starts spinning, trying to think what is the right thing to do? Her heart pounds as she feels his hot breath against her ear, whispering "Like I said, I won't hurt you if you do what I say. Now stop struggling before I change my mind."
He drags her backwards toward the door of the laundry room. The arm beneath her breasts moves away from her body and then the room goes dark. She starts to panic as she realizes he's turned off the light. Should she fight or be still like he told her? Before she has the chance to decide, he's again pushing her forward, back into the center of the room. The gap beneath the door allows in just enough light to see where they are.
"I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth, but one word out of you and you'll never see daylight again. Understand?," he grumbles deeply.
She nods, afraid to make a sound in fear of what he might do. Slowly he moves his hand from her mouth, his body pressing her against the washer. She can tell he's at least 6 ft tall and close to at least 200 lbs. She turns her head slightly trying to get a glimpse of him but it's no use, it's just too dark to see. Suddenly he takes her arm and brings it behind her back. She starts to struggle and pull her arm back but he presses her against the washer even harder and grabs her behind the neck, digging his fingers into her skin. Immediately she stops, remembering his early warning.
"Good girl," he whispers with a chuckle, "You learn fast for a whore." He again takes her arm behind her back, tying a strip of material around her wrist. Then he takes her other arm and ties it tightly to the first, pulling on them to be sure she can't get loose. Satisfied with his work, he places both hands on either side of her shoulders, squeezing them as he whispers into her ear, "Time for the fun to begin. I've been watching you for days now. I know no one's home and I know that punk of a husband of yours wont be home for at least another five hours. That leaves you and I plenty of time to become acquainted. If you are nice, you live to see daylight again, if not... well let's just not even think about it, okay?."
"Please don't hurt me," she begged. That was all she could manage, her heart was pounding and her body was trembling. All she could think of was Tom finding her dead body, but she couldn't let that happen. She loves him so much, she has to see him again. Even if it means doing whatever this monster says.
"Oh I'm not going to hurt you, unless you force me to. It's all in your hands now," he said as his hands slowly trail down along her upper arms, his fingertips making chill bumps rise up from her skin. Suddenly he squeezes her arms tightly, pulling her from the washer and turning her around, facing him. He was close to her, so close she could smell him. A mixture of leather and sweat, a smell she'd never forget. She feels his hand softly touch one side of her face, his fingers moving down along her cheek to her chin. He takes her chin in his hand and tilts it upwards. She couldn't see him but senses that he is close. Then she feels his lips on hers, kissing her softly at first then with more force. She feels his tongue pushing against her lips trying to force its way through them into her mouth but she wouldn't allow it. The thought of his tongue on hers makes her sick to her stomach.
He pulls away with a chuckle and moves a step back from her. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" he hisses. "Well I can be just as feisty as you are." He then reaches up to her shirt and rips it open with one quick yank, sending buttons flying across the floor. "How's that for feisty?" he growls. Again he presses against her, pushing her hard against the washer, his hands reaching inside her ripped shirt, placing his palms against her sides and slowly moving them up toward her breasts. Taking her full breasts in his hands, he squeezes them gently, massaging and caressing them.
She holds her breath as he's doing this, terrified to make a sound and afraid of what's to come. Suddenly he leans down and kisses her neck as he takes her nipples between his thumb and finger, pinching and rolling them. She tries to control herself but moans softly, her nipples have always been so sensitive.
Again he pulls away from her, "You like that huh?" he hissed. "You are such a whore, what would dear hubby think of you acting this way?" he sneered. He then reaches down and starts undoing her shorts, yanking them down and letting them fall around her ankles. He places his hand between her legs and feels her panties are slightly damp, just as he thought they would be. "Tell me to fuck you, bitch. Beg me to rip your panties off and fuck you like the whore you are," he growled in a deep, husky voice.
"Please don't . . . please don't rape me," Carol whined nervously. "Please, I have money. Take whatever you want and just go, I won't tell anyone I promise."
"Oh I plan to take exactly what I came for, something you and I both know you want to give me. So shut the fuck up and do what I say. We don't want this to turn ugly, do we?" he asked.
Suddenly he takes her by the hair and drags her over to the pile of laundry on the floor. Pushing her backwards she lands on her butt on the pile of dirty clothes. She can only see the outline of her assailant, standing above her. She hears him moving, hears him place something on the washer. Then she hears a zipper . . . and realizes he's getting undressed. Her heart starts pounding faster and she tries to back up but she can't. She's against the wall in the corner with nowhere to go. He's actually going to rape her and there's nothing she can do about it. How did she ever let herself get into this mess? Didn't she lock the door after Tom left for work?
Her thoughts were interrupted by him walking toward her. She can feel him standing over her, one foot on either side of her body. She knew he was naked, she knew she was about to be raped. He again takes her hair in his hand and pulls her up, "On your knees bitch," he growls. "It's time to show me how much you want to live."
Quickly she struggles to get to her knees before he rips her hair out of her head. With a whimper she manages to do just that. He moves closer to her and something warm touches her on the side of her face. He pulls her hair toward him, bringing her face up to his crotch, her nose against his full balls.
