| He watched her for several weeks. Initially, she was cautious, watchful. Gradually, though, as he remained out of sight, she became more bold and daring. She stopped watching over her shoulder as much, stopped scanning the crowds for his face. Finally, about five weeks after the rape, she accepted a date with a guy she had met in the coffee shop. It wasn't that she had forgotten, but she was hopeful that the brutal encounter would never be repeated.
She had awakened the morning after the rape, sore and slightly bruised. The unknown man was gone, leaving behind a CD-R with a note that said simply, “for you.” Dreading the discovery, she had loaded the disk in her computer and opened the file in a window. As she had feared, the photographs were burned onto the disk. Using her own camera and computer, he had created a convincing defense for any allegations she might make against him. Not one of the shots showed her being forced or abused, and she knew instantly that she couldn’t file a report. Instead, she had hidden the disk with the incriminating photos on it, and tried to put the incident out of her mind. She knew that he had not left her the only copy of the disk, and she wondered what he would do with the photographs.
Now, getting ready for the date, Michelle was nervous and excited. She had not been on a real date in months, since Jason had stopped calling her. He was a loser anyway, she reminded herself. This guy will be different. His name was Randy, and he was easygoing and charming. He had spoken to her several times before getting up enough nerve to ask her out, and she felt that he would be a gentleman on this first date.
She dried her hair in its usual style, leaving out the hairspray in case Randy felt like running his hands through it. Makeup just so, enough to enhance without being obvious. Now she thought, what to wear. Something sexy without being over the top. She debated for a few moments, deciding on a red dress. He would like this. It was low enough in the front to give a glimpse of her breasts, short enough to reveal the skin just above her knees. The fabric was soft and shimmery in the light, inviting the eyes and the hands. Sheer black stockings and heels completed the look. Her body was far from perfect, but she knew how to play up her positive attributes. Men liked her curves, and she received compliments and propositions on a regular basis.
When the doorbell rang at seven forty-five, she smiled and gave Randy a point for being early. He had told her that their reservations would be for eight thirty, and he would pick her up at eight. Still smiling, she opened the door without looking through the peephole. The smile froze on her lips when she recognized the black man who practically filled the doorway of her small apartment. She tried to slam the door, but his massive form prevented the gesture, and he closed the door behind him a moment later. Michelle backed away from the man who had raped her weeks earlier, feeling trapped and frightened.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Her voice rose in anger and frustration. She stumbled as her heel caught in the carpet, and he was immediately close enough to grasp her arm. "Please, leave me alone." She felt tears well up in her eyes and she hated herself for the weakness that allowed him to control her. He still did not speak, pulling her arms behind her and pressing her body against his own. He held her effortlessly, as she fought to free herself from his grip. His lips met the soft skin of her neck, and she tried to shove him away. He persisted, nibbling and sucking at the delicate flesh for a moment as she squirmed. She ignored the little electric thrill that swept through her body and shrugged her shoulders to force him away from her neck.
He deftly switched her hands into one of his own, allowing him to tangle his free hand in her hair. He did not pull her hair as she expected, but he cupped her head, tilting it backward as his lips moved to the other side of her neck. His lips and tongue treated her neck gently, applying little pressure but creating an intense sensation. In spite of her fear and anger, Michelle felt aroused by this delicate manipulation. Five weeks had passed since anyone had touched her sexually, and her body immediately responded to this stimulation.
As he moved his mouth lower, she held her breath. She realized that she had stopped fighting him, but she rationalized it by telling herself that she couldn't win. His mouth felt warm against the skin on her chest, wet kisses left in his trail as he moved to the neckline of the red dress. His tongue slipped into the cleavage created by her bra, and she shivered involuntarily. He gently sank his teeth into the upper curve of her left breast, sucking with greater pressure and using his tongue to massage the tiny bit of flesh. "Stop," she said finally, realizing at last that he was leaving marks on her.
He raised his head and smiled at her this time. His hand behind her head brought her to him, and he kissed her. She forgot again to resist when his tongue slid into her mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, she realized. What am I doing? The thought came to her suddenly, reminding her of who she was kissing. She pulled away from the kiss, and he released her head. His free hand moved instead to the front of her dress, lowering the neckline to reveal the thin fabric of her demi bra. His fingers easily upset the balance of flesh and fabric to reveal the nipples of both breasts. He immediately took one in his mouth, sucking softly and flicking his tongue over the tip.
"Don't do that," she meant the words to be a command, but they came out weak and whispery instead. Her nipple swelled and stiffened, and she felt the pooling heat in her belly. He was turning her on, easily and expertly. Her weak resistance was half-hearted at best, and she wondered if she actually wanted to resist. This did not feel like a rape, but a seduction. "You raped me." She said the words to him, but more to remind herself of the situation. "I don't want this," she said unconvincingly a moment later when he ran his tongue over the other nipple, already erect and eager for the touch. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth during the teasing touch of his teeth grazing over the aroused flesh.
When he kissed her again, she could not help responding. Her tongue met his easily, and she felt his thigh wedge between her own. The excitement increased with the feeling of his denim shirt against her nipples, the thick, muscular width of his leg against her center. She knew he could feel the heat of her pussy on his leg, and his tongue thrust deeper into her unresisting mouth in response. He applied enough pressure against her hands to cause her body to curve against his, back arching as she bent to his will. Finding her mostly compliant, he released her hands and gripped the cheeks of her ass to pull her against him more completely.
Michelle felt her sanity slipping away in the heat of arousal, and she struggled to ignore the sensations he was stirring. She pushed ineffectively at his shoulders, pulled against the hardened hands gripping her bottom firmly. He leaned over further, bending her body backward inexorably. She felt herself falling and ceased pushing against him to catch herself. He followed her down, joining her on the floor with his thick leg still between her thighs. As he knelt over her, she felt his eyes on her body and acknowledged the feminine thrill created by the obvious desire in his eyes. She tried to catch his hands, but they seemed to be everywhere at once. He tweaked a nipple and cupped the breast before sweeping the dress up to reveal her panties. His attention was captured by the tiny triangle that barely covered her mons. The delicate strings that held the garment in place would break easily if he tugged, but he just ran one finger along the edge of the fabric.
Her pussy was wet. Five weeks ago, this same man had taken her by force. He had commanded a response, but it was still force. This was different in many ways, but she did not want it to happen. “I don’t even know your name.” She blurted the statement out as it occurred to her. I’m spread out in the floor letting some RAPIST handle me! What is happening to me? I am not like this! As the thought entered her mind, she pushed against him with more determination. She managed to cover her panties again, but she could still feel the warmth of his touch against that uniquely tender skin. He ignored her resistance, continuing to assault her with tenderness. He kneaded the muscle of her thigh, and she knew he felt the trembling response. His hand covered her breast, massaging the captive globe in spite of her attempt to push the hand away.
Later, she would wonder how things would have played out if she hadn’t done it. But, lacking sufficient alternatives, she punched him. The blow landed about mid-chest, fairly solidly but without enough force to do more than anger him. He slapped her in response, just hard enough to leave her face stinging. His swift capture of her hands prevented further retaliation, and after quickly lifting her toward him, she soon found her wrists confined with a set of handcuffs he pulled from his pocket. The handcuffs were behind her, but she had seen in the quick manipulations he performed that they had been modified in some way. For one thing, the chain between the two cuffs was longer than the standard distance. There was some kind of fur covering the metal of the shackles, making the feeling one of soft control. With her hands confined, she could feel the cold length of chain against her back when he pushed her back down to the floor.
He held her firmly against the floor with one of his meaty hands against her throat. He did not apply pressure, but resisted any effort she made to free herself. “Please, don’t do this to me again.” She once again begged him to stop, without any real hope that he would.
“You don’t want me to fuck you again, Michelle?” His voice was not harsh, but it easily conveyed his skepticism.
Understandably, she screamed silently at herself. He can tell that I’m excited. I don’t want this! But I can’t help responding. What the hell is WRONG with me? She shook her head, as much at herself as at him. “I want you to drop dead.” She forced herself to speak harshly, ignoring the heat in her body as his free hand continued to caress her. “I want you to stop, please.” She whispered the last as his fingers traced the outline of her panties again. She could not actually remember when he had lifted her skirt again, but the heat of his touch made her weak with anticipation.
She was anticipating his rape this time. She could feel her body responding, feel the moisture between her thighs. The hell of it was that this man was creating a stronger response than any lover she’d had in the past. He lay beside her on the floor, smiling when she closed her legs immediately against him. He propped on his elbow, looking at her as the hand at her throat slid down to touch her breasts. “You are mine, Shelly” He whispered the words close to her ear, his warm breath tickling the inside of her ear and sending another little electric thrill through her body. “See how much you want me? I know you think it’s wrong, but this is how you need it. You need to be taken, you have to lose control.” As he spoke softly in her ear, his fingers pinched each of her nipples alternately.
She shook her head again, tears forming as she realized the truth of his statement. She was ready to be fucked, only moments after having her home invaded again. When he slid his hand down her body, she clenched her thighs together more tightly, knowing he would feel the wet, eager response of her body if he felt her pussy. He did not attempt to force his hand between her thighs, concentrating on the exposed flesh between the elasticized top of her stockings and the tiny scrap of fabric shielding her pussy. He watched her quivering reaction, smilingly wondering if she realized that he was not restraining her.
Her eyes followed the movement of his fingers, the stark contrast of her white skin against his own mesmerizing. She sucked her lower lip as his fingers approached the juncture of her thighs again. Closing her eyes, she allowed her legs to fall apart slightly, hoping he would take the unspoken invitation. He dipped her fingers into the warm space created by her open thighs, pressing against her center. She closed her eyes more tightly and parted her legs a little more. He growled softly in reaction to her compliance. Using one finger, he lifted the panties away from her flesh, pulling the silky material up and watching her face. He pulled the garment to one side, letting it rest against her skin, no longer concealing her pussy from his view. As he traced the smoothly shaven lips of her pussy, she twitched in reaction.
When the doorbell rang, her eyes flew open immediately. She closed her thighs, trapping his hand against her pussy, and tried to sit up. “Who’s at the door, Shelly?” The question stopped her instantly, and she realized that without this interruption, she would have complied with his seduction.
“My date, Randy.” She answered automatically, still intensely aware of his hot fingers against her moist cunt. “Let me up.”
“Hold on, bitch,” he replied. He squirmed his hand enough to slide one thick finger into the welcoming heat of her juicy pussy. “Do you really want the guy on the other side of the door?” His thumb applied pressure to her clit, and she felt it pulsing in response. “Ignore the door, and he’ll go away.” He pulled his finger out of her pussy, using the moisture to lubricate her nipple before sucking the taut bud into his mouth.
She hesitated a moment before screaming for help. Insanity aside, this was wrong, and she needed help to get out of the situation. If Randy left, no one else would hear her screaming, since the neighbors were gradually disappearing. The young woman next door had moved three months ago, and the apartment was still empty. The black man laughed when he released her nipple, which she found strange. He pulled her to her feet, propelling her toward the door. When he reached out to open the door, she felt like protesting. Her breasts were exposed, but then, the person outside was supposed to help her out of the situation. Randy stood silently for a moment, and she spoke quickly, uncertain how the rapist would react. “Help me, Randy.”
“Oh, I will, baby.” Randy moved into the apartment, smiling wolfishly, and she felt a rush of dread. It turned to horror when he spoke to the man behind her. “Yo, Reggie. Just like we planned, huh, buddy?” The men exchanged some type of closed fist greeting, ignoring her for a moment as they celebrated the culmination of some devious scheme. Randy looked at Michelle again, nodding as he took in the sight of her soft breasts and stiff nipples. Just as she was preparing to run, Reggie grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against him and tipping her head back with one hand in her hair. Michelle tried unsuccessfully to claw Reggie, but his thick jeans prevented her from doing any damage.
Randy sucked her nipples, lifting each breast to his mouth and feasting on them greedily. His teeth grazed the sensitive nipples, his tongue laving the tiny injury. She struggled against the two men, but without any genuine hope of escape. Reggie, she thought. At least I know his name now. The irony of that thought was not lost on her, and she twisted violently against the hands that held her. When she lifted her leg, trying to catch Randy’s groin unprotected, he deftly caught the leg and pulled it around his body.
The men worked so well together that Michelle thought this must be a routine for them. While Reggie held her tightly against his body, Randy worked himself into position to prevent her from closing her legs. His fingers found her wet pussy, sliding easily into the creamy tunnel. He finger fucked her roughly, sucking her nipples harder now and ignoring her protests. “Oh, yeah, baby. Reggie said you were a hot little slut.” Randy spoke finally, lifting his mouth from her nipples finally, but continuing to fuck her with his fingers. He slid a third finger into her pussy, and she felt the uncomfortable feeling of being stretched. His fingers were not as thick as Reggie’s though, and she knew how massive Reggie’s cock was. The fingers would be the least of her worries.
“Don’t do this, Randy. I don’t want this. He raped me last month, and he’s here today to rape me again. Please, leave me alone, help me.” Michelle spoke quickly, but knowing that Randy would be little help against this massive black man. Randy was about 5’11” tall, lean and lanky, as opposed to Reggie being at least 6’2” and thickly muscled. Randy responded to her plea by stroking her clit with his thumb. He pinched the nipple of her left breast and rocked his fingers inside her squishy wet pussy.
“I saw the pictures, Michelle, and that doesn’t look like rape to me.” Randy responded verbally without meeting her eyes. He focused on the reddened tips of her breasts, still forced upward by the demi bra and the neckline of her dress. “And,” he continued while playing with her pussy, “this doesn’t feel like a pussy that wants to be left alone.”
Reggie spoke, his voice close to her ear. “That is a sweet, juicy pussy, man.” She felt overwhelmed by shame as they discussed her undeniable physical response. “She needs a good fucking, been waiting for me to come back over here and tear that pussy up again. She even wanted you in on it, insisted on it, as a matter of fact.” Reggie laughed easily, without any apparent jealousy or animosity. “I was going to leave you standing on the doorstep, man, but she wanted more dick than I could offer, I guess.”
Michelle felt despair and hopelessness engulf her. There was no escape, and no mercy in either man. On top of that, her body was betraying her, responding eagerly to the unwanted caresses of the two rapists in her living room. Randy stepped back, removing his intrusive fingers and allowing her leg to drop. He pulled a pocket knife from his jeans pocket and opened it. While her eyes widened in sudden fear, Reggie trapped one of her legs between his own. With only one leg to support herself, she was unable to kick out at Randy as he approached her with the knife. She felt certain that he was not going to really hurt her, but she was still frightened by the brandishing of a weapon when she was so obviously overpowered. “Please, I’m begging you.” She heard her voice crack, and felt hot tears spill over her face. “Please, don’t do this to me.”
The tip of the knife sliced easily through the delicate fabric of her dress, opening the front to the waist. He carefully left the bra intact, its half cups seeming to offer her breasts as a sacrifice. He sliced through the sleeves then, leaving only the skirt hanging around her hips. He set the knife on the nearby table and gripped the sides of the dress. With one powerful movement of his arms, the dress ripped loudly, separating completely so that only the pressure of Reggie’s body against hers kept the garment from falling to the floor. Clad in the sheer demi bra, a pair of twisted red silk panties, her elasticized black stockings and heels, she felt like the slut they accused her of being.
Reggie stepped away from her briefly and she felt the material slip to the floor. She immediately took advantage of the opportunity to kick out at Randy again, smiling in satisfaction when her foot connected solidly with his shin. He swore loudly, and Reggie immediately applied pressure, forcing her down to her knees. “You know you are going to pay for that, Shelly.” Reggie was smiling when he said it, but the threat was clear. His fingers bit into her shoulders slightly as he kept her in the floor. “Here you go, man. Shelly wants to suck your dick for you, to make up for being mean.”