"I'll never again be able to smell a Vanilla Wafer without thinking about this violation."
Chance leaned toward her ear, his face close, breathing steady and tickling along her neck. She felt a tingling sensation begin somewhere beneath her sternum. His low rich baritone voice intoxicated her ears, "I'll ask again," he stated softly. "Did you intend to entice me with this note, trick me, and entrap me? Did you think to manipulate me into participating in your dark twisted fantasy?" With each question she shook her head side to side trying to convince him that those were not her intentions, and with the last question she let out an indignant squeal which actually sounded more like an undignified huffing.
Chance crumpled the note inches away from her, "Why should I believe you?" The accusation stabbed at her heart and her hope deflating her and triggered a short stretch of time with Madame Talia whimpering around the ball gag. She closed her eyes and wished desperately to disappear. When she subsided, she could no longer see him or feel his presence close by. Scanning around her as best she could it appeared he had left the room. Long moments of silence stealthily crept upon her and tangled and twisted her nerves. Soft twilight skies slid slowly across the small bits of window not covered by curtains. Madame Talia strained to hear where Chance had gotten off to in the building. For all she could guess, he might be behind just out of sight. The waiting while trussed up and vulnerable to rape and or murder was exhausting and the darker it grew outside, the more she dwelled on imagining her receptionist finding her stripped, raped, bleeding and barely alive when arriving Monday morning. She wondered what it would be like having her womanhood plundered while she could only put up a token struggle in resistance. Would he take his time pulling her clothing off? Would it be a sudden violent rending of cloth with her tattered clothing hanging in shreds from her mostly naked back while he took her? Would he shove his member into her virgin anus? The more she worried, the less she paid attention to the tingling building up in her nether regions
"No, not anal, please don't let him rape me in the rear," she thought, but the thought inexplicable got her vagina wet. She flushed powerfully so that not only her face but her arms and thighs turned pink and hot from embarrassment. The perspiration built up on her upper back and her blouse started to cling uncomfortably. She whimpered and whined and the drool from the ball gag dribbled down her chin and dripped past her arms onto the chair seat. She closed her eyes in self-pity and misery. When she opened them again the room had gone dark. She thought she felt her skirt being raised up and over her back and steeled herself for the expected tug on her panties. His hand pressing on her shoulder and his hot breath on her neck and ear jolted her and she screamed as loud as she could into the gag. He waited patiently for her hysteria to subside.
"I didn't see any cameras about the place, so you are either very clever or not really trying record me. I did find your computer though and I'll be taking it with me to study at my leisure," he explained calmly.
There was a click at first one ankle and then the other, freeing her legs. Following that the zip-tie binding the cuffs to the chair let loose and the sudden freedom almost cause her to collapse forward onto the chair, but he grabbed the handcuffs and steadied her. Chance pulled her close and she felt the warmth of his face near her cheek. He said, "I'd better not see any police near my front door regarding our tete-a-tete. Do you understand me? They won't find me, but I'll find you."
With that the handcuffs were removed and he disappeared into the darkness. A moment later she heard the door close. The adrenaline crashing through her blood stream petered out and left her so weak all she was able to do was collapse to the floor, back stiff and cramping, fingers without the strength to remove the ball-gag from her mouth, trembling for a good 10 minutes.
She had a daybed in the small back bedroom and eventually made her way to it and lay down to sleep a fitful sleep with dreams of being vulnerable again and roughly used over and over again. She dreamed of her body betraying her and spasms of orgiastic pleasure washing through her while she pleaded for more. She woke up with her skirt bunched up around her waist and her hand in her panties, fingers soaked in her juices.
"Oh God," she groaned.
Over the course of the next few weeks she did the best she could to get back to a normal routine, trying not to dwell on being that helpless and afraid as she was that evening. A security company was contacted and contracted to install a panic button underneath her reading table. At the push of a button they would send a car to check on her. No longer would she need fear a man violating her inner sanctum here where she worked. She rearranged the furniture in the studio. She changed the scent she used to set the atmosphere as well. Anything that reminded her of that evening she changed to avoid the memory, but the more she changed, the more persistent the memory. Madame Talia did not believe herself an adrenaline junkie, but the thoughts of vulnerability and danger of being raped made her heart race and caused a flutter in her loins.
"This is ridiculous. I must confront my fear, right? That's the best way to get over the fear and move on," she confided to nobody in particular one afternoon trying to strengthen her resolve. Slowly she retrieved stationery and pen, setting it on the small desk she rarely used in the studio. It remained there for three days before she found the courage to set pen to paper and start writing a note.
Dear Sir,
You violated me when you took the liberty to invade my studio, forced me into bondage and threatened me. After much consideration, I have resolved to have you arrested and punished for my mistreatment. I look forward to my vindication at your trial.
Madame Talia
Folding the note, she sealed it in an envelope and wrote the address on the envelope. She very nearly dropped the correspondence on the out tray. She stared at the letter in her outstretched hand. A premonition of extreme danger washed over her. This letter was addressed to a very dangerous man. Her heart beat heavily within her chest. Breath quickening and a flush of heat weakened her resolve. "What the hell was I about to do?"
She dropped the letter in the waste basket, collected her things and walked out front to the reception area and said, "Janice, please reschedule my 4 p.m. appointment for another day. I'm going home for the rest of the day. I haven't had a break lately and I need to get out of here for a while. You can take off early after you finish up."
Janice gave her a conciliatory smile, "You deserve a break Talia. Go have a glass of wine, or bottle..."
Fifteen minutes later, Janice went in to tidy up the studio. There wasn't much tidying necessary, but she did see the lone item in the waste basket. Thinking Madame Talia had done so accidentally, she picked it out and applied postage. She would drop it off on her way home.
