The Widow and the Burglar
By Astropirate
The whole county of Kent was on alert. For the fifth time the burglar and serial rapist known as the 'Widow Hunter' had struck for the fifth time. The method was always the same. He would patiently stake out his victim, always a widow, divorced or separated and would be living comfortably. The victim would be living alone and isolated.
He would meticulously check their regular movements before deciding when to strike. He would enter the premises of his prey while she was out and await her return. Then, having gotten their cash and valuables, he would force her to have sex with him before securing and tying her to the bed and making his escape.
The story gripped the entire country, and the overstretched Police were under pressure to make an arrest. The elusive rapist was dubbed the 'Widow Hunter' by the media.
Janet Lockwood was forty-eight. She had been a widow for the past year since her husband, Frank, a solicitor, died of a heart attack in a London hotel while fucking his twenty-two year old secretary.
Frank's infidelity hurt Janet immensely. However, Jennifer, their Twenty-five year old daughter, was a great source of comfort to her, as was Jennifer's husband, Don, a solicitor who worked at Frank's firm. Their two year old son, Colin, was Janet's pride and joy. She doted on him and spoiled him. Janet loved it when Jennifer and Don would ask her to babysit. It was as if little Colin had given the forty-eight year old a new lease of life.
When Frank's life insurance came through Janet sold the big house and purchased a single storey house on the outskirts of Southeaton in Kent. Janet loved the peace and quiet of the area. The isolation meant she would not be bothered by nosey neighbours. Jennifer and Don regularly visited her, and she would have Sunday lunch with them at their comfortable home in town. This gave Janet many joyful days with little Colin also.
The proceeds from the sale of the house and Frank's life insurance, meant that Janet was quite comfortable. Despite this she worked three days a week as receptionist to Dr Greenwood, a semi-retired gentleman, in his late sixties.
Janet herself was five feet six. Her dark hair was cut short. Her breasts were firm and round and thanks to good eating habits and exercise, she donned a flat stomach, rounded off with long silky smooth legs. She was also stronger than she looked. Her thrice weekly visits to the local gym gave her good muscle tone.
Janet did not need the money, but she just could not see herself sitting alone at home day in day out. She was afraid she'd crack up.
When the 'Widow hunter' first struck, a concerned Jennifer begged her mother to move in with her and Don until the criminal was caught. Janet flatly refused. She wanted to maintain her independence and besides, Jennifer's mother was confident she could take of herself.
Even Don could not persuade his mother in law. However, to ease his wife's fears, he secretly hired a security firm to discreetly watch over Janet's home. A patrol would regularly drive by without causing suspicion.
***
It was Friday evening and Janet was tired. It had been a long day at the surgery and as she drove into the drive she dreamed of a long soak in her tub. It was only five-thirty, but it was already dark, and rain threatened. Once inside the house Janet automatically pushed over the bolt and double locked the door. The warmth of the darkened room told her the timer had come on and that meant plenty of hot water for her bath.
Janet made her way to the kitchen and switched on the light before filling the kettle. It was then she felt a gloved hand to her mouth, muffling her scream and dropping the kettle. What was more terrifying was the cold steel blade menacingly at her throat.
"Take it easy, lady. Cooperate, and you won't get hurt. Understood?" said her captor.
Janet made a muffled grunt and then frantically nodded to make sure the burglar was clear about her response. Janet was not much for detecting accents, but she was pretty sure this man was not local.
"Now, I'm going to release my hand from your mouth. Scream or do anything stupid you're dead. Understand?"
'My God, it's him. The 'Widow Hunter,' the forty-eight year old thought before once again nodding frantically.
Janet exhaled and then inhaled deeply when her captor released his hand.
"Please, don't hurt me," pleaded Janet nervously.
"Like I said, lady. Do as you're told, and you'll be fine. We might even have some fun afterwards."
"Fun?" responded Janet, knowing full well what the intruder meant.
"You'll see," answered her unwanted guest and although he was masked Janet could see his sinister smile. It made her shudder. The other thing that was intimidating was that burglar was at least five inches taller that herself.
"Now, where do you keep your cash and valuables."
"In my bedroom," Janet replied nervously.
"Show me, and remember, no funny business," instructed her intruder with what Janet would later describe as a very frightening tone.
"Down there," said Janet, pointing to the bottom drawer of the side table next to her bed.
"Get it, all of it," he hissed.
