At -10 it was a relatively warm night in Grand Forks, Saskatchewan. There was no comfort in that for Amy Thibodeau who was just getting home from the gym. She'd been working 12 hour days since she moved here two and a half months ago, partly out of necessity. When she'd been offered the position by corporate, she knew it was a big chance they were taking, and it was a big jump for her. She was determined to turn the plant around as the new production supervisor, but constantly butting heads with the entrenched plant management was taking it's toll. At first the gym had been her refuge, but even now it was starting to become another burden.
What she really needed was her husband, Steve. She'd left him behind after only 8 months of marriage to sell their house in Ontario and move their things. He was scheduled to arrive in 2 weeks, and they talked online most nights, but it wasn't the same. And she hadn't been able to get a hold of him for 2 nights now. Her other friends avoided the subject and the niggling thought appeared that maybe he was stepping out. They had had a whirlwind romance after she met him, while she had been dating his brother, Ted. She was very fond of Ted, but they'd both known they had no future. Ted was pissed a bit when she split with him, but now he was genuinely happy for her and Steve. But now even Ted wasn't answering his calls.
At least it was Friday. The plant manager had specifically instructed her to take the weekend off, so she could maybe get caught up on her rest. When she allowed herself to think about it, she was so fucking horny, too. She and Steve had cammed a couple of times a week, but for the last 2 weeks he'd always had some reason not to. She was so upset, and to top it off all the guys here figured since she was solo, she was available.
She was bordering on exhaustion as she fumbled with the keys to her apartment. She dropped them and when she bent over to retrieve them she stifled a sob of despair. But when she stood up she couldn't stifle the shriek that escaped her lips before the heavy glove covered her mouth. There was a man standing in front of her wearing a ski mask. He peered intently into her eyes for a second, then whispered in an exaggerated disguised voice.
"You are in no danger. Just behave and keep your fuckin mouth shut and we'll have some fun." He turned her to the door and pushed her hand with the keys towards the door.
Amy was shaking so badly as she tried to get the key in the lock, it took her three attempts. Once they got inside the man pushed her backwards onto the couch. She could barely make out his form in the dark as he approached then suddenly she couldn't see anything. She felt her eyes being covered and something being done behind her head and she realized she was being blindfolded. She was finally galvanized to action and she jumped up intending to dart for the bedroom. Her hands reached for the blindfold but she was stopped by a sharp pain in the back of her head. She knew she lost a few hairs there and tears sprang to her eyes, from the pain and from what she knew was coming.
A voice came from beside her head, this time through a modulator, "I told you to behave, bitch. You're going to pay for that."
Amy was lifted by an arm, then both her arms were forced behind her back where her wrists were clamped together with padded handcuffs. A feeling of relief, however small, swept through her because of the handcuffs; she realized the man really didn't intend to hurt her. She stood motionless as she heard the man walking around the apartment. She heard a drawer clattering in the kitchen, then he was beside her again. She felt cold steel against the small of her back and with it a shiver of panic pierced her heart. Her blouse was tugged away before she heard the scissors cutting the cloth.
"You fucker!" Amy surprised herself at her protest. "I paid 80 bucks for that blouse!"
Her head rocked at the retort, a sharp slap across her face, again drawing a few fears. Even if the man meant her no harm, he wasn't reticent about punishing her.
He continued cutting and she felt the cool air of her chilled apartment as her back was bared.
"The thermostat's on the wall by the kitchen." Amy kept her voice low and non-confrontational.
The stranger complied by leaving for a minute and Amy heard her baseboard heaters click on. When he came back he continued. He liked to take his time, caressing her skin as each new section was revealed. After he unsnapped her bra he cradled her breasts almost lovingly for a minute before he pushed her top forward and off her arms. The stranger moved in front of her and she heard his ragged breath while he obviously stood looking at her. He undid her belt and the button of her slacks when the enormity of her situation hit her again. She was about to be raped. No matter how solicitous this man was, he was going to rape her. She felt a brief twinge in her pussy before the panic set in. She'd had a rape fantasy that she played with Steve, but the reality was much more frightening
"No, no." Amy whimpered. "Please don't. I'm married."
That modulated voice again, "I know you're married. He'll never know if you don't tell him."
So, he'd been watching her. Was it someone she knew? Someone from work, or the gym? She'd been so focused since she got here she hadn't even noticed if anyone was paying any attention to her. He had her slacks unzipped and was worming them down over her butt. She had a passing sensation of embarrassment when she realized she was wearing her granny panties. She hadn't packed anything sexy and her regular panties were all in the wash. The ones she had on now were a pair she wore when she had her period, frayed, stained, and stretched.
When her pants were around her ankles the man helped her step out, steadying her as started her moving forward. She knew he was guiding her towards the bathroom by the turns they were making. Amy could see some light through the blindfold and he walked her up to the tub.
"Do you have to pee?" he asked. Amy shook her head negative.
"Umm, poop?" Amy laughed at the thought of the big mean sociopathic rapist balking at crude language.
"You mean shit?" Amy asked. "No." She had a brief moment of panic, again, at what would happen if she did have to take a crap. Would he uncuff her? Would he clean her?
She felt the man's warm body lean past her and turn the shower on. He adjusted the temperature and helped her into the tub. She felt odd, still wearing her panties, but she was comforted that she wasn't fully naked. After a minute standing under the water, the man joined her. He took up her sponge and applied soap to it, then washed her body.
"Lean on me." He whispered hoarsely. He'd taken his modulator off so Amy tried to get an idea from his tone and inflection, who it might be. She leaned her hip against his shoulder and she felt his hands washing her legs. He paid attention to details, taking the weight off her feet and washing between her toes. She got tense as his hands climbed her legs, massaging her calves, caressing the back of her knees. Despite herself she had to admit it felt good. It had been so long since she'd felt another person's touch. After the stranger washed her thighs and hips he bypassed her bum and pussy and soothingly stroked her stomach.
