Her path would take her right past me. I melted back into the little alcove and waited. The sound of her shoes crunching on the plaster and glass scattered on the sidewalk was easy to hear over the muted sounds of the main part of the city: an occasional siren, a jet passing far overhead, a truck honking several blocks over.
The uncertain footfalls came closer, closer, until I could tell she was right there... Her figure sprang into view, bright red hair streaming down over her back, a blue sweater, her ass encased in tight black jeans, her feet in high heels. I leaped from my hiding place, so perfect was the setup, it was as if the whole thing had been planned. My hand went over her mouth, my knife right in front of her eyes. Her first reaction was to struggle. Then she saw the large saw bladed knife, oh so menacing in aspect, and she froze in fright.
"Don't make a sound," I said menacingly. "Don't fight me and I'll only take your money. Do you understand?"
She nodded, trying to say something from behind my hand.
"No sounds," I hissed.
She froze, panting, which was exactly what I wanted. Frightened people don’t fight, or at least, they don’t fight effectively. I dragged her back through the opening I had sprung from, then down a hallway and out into the warehouse. The clerestory windows above were almost all shattered allowing a bright light to fill the empty bay. I spied a rope hanging from one of the large beams running across the open bay and dragged the woman with me. She was limp with fright and I smiled, knowing I controlled her: her body, her mind, and her destiny.
The rope was slippery yellow nylon, perfect for the task. Putting as much menace into my voice as I could to better control her, I whispered in her ear, “If you resist or move, I’m going to cut parts off your body.” She shivered in fear. “Think about which parts you can do without before you try anything.” That would freeze her.
Again with menace, “Lift your arms.” She complied, though she nearly fainted.
I quickly tucked the knife in my belt and grabbed the rope, twirling it around one wrist then the other. A quick knot and she was suspended from above. I took a moment to look at my catch, a little rat in a trap. She was a beautiful little rat, her tight ass in those jeans, the sweater bulging from her tits, her long legs… And I knew I wasn’t going to just rob her of her money. No, I was going to take something else I wanted, something more valuable.
Grabbing the knife, I stepped in front of her. Her eyes gaping in fear, she mumbled a quiet, “No.” She looked into my eyes and knew what I wanted now. I took her sweater and pulled it away from her body letting the knife find the hem. Then slowly, the razor edge cut it thread by thread, exposing her belly, then her bra, then all of her; I cut it away throwing the scraps onto the floor. Her eyes were even wider now.
I pressed the cold steel against her chest and she shivered. The flat of the blade slid up between those marvelous cups. A quick turn and the knife sliced through the bra, falling away, exposing her pale white tits and red nipples. Two quick cuts and the remains of the bra joined the scraps of sweater on the filthy floor.
She was breathing hard now, her eyes staring at the knife, afraid of where it would go next. Her jeans were too tight to get the knife between flesh and fabric over her thighs but I couldn’t resist the effect of cold steel against her body. I grabbed her jeans by the waist and cut down the front so she felt the back of the knife pressed against her sex. She groaned and shivered. Kneeling I cut up each leg until they hung loose, and pulled them off both legs, leaving her standing in those black high heels. It was a picture of erotic force.
Still kneeling, I pulled her little wisp of panties away and sliced them, snick, snick, and threw them to the side. I stepped back to admire my handy work. She looked away, staring at the ceiling trying to show her disdain for me. But I knew better. I could have her begging in a moment just by slicing, not even deeply, that pretty pale skin. She belonged to me and I intended to let her know it.
I walked around, admiring her beautiful sexy body. I pressed the cold flat blade of the knife against her ass and she shivered and whimpered. So much for her resolve. From behind, I held the knife against her breasts bringing another whimper. I liked that sound. I liked another sound as well: the sound of a zipper, mine, being slowly lowered. When she heard that sound, she started begging, “No, please. Don't cut me.” So much for her cold disdain. The realization was dawning that she was mine and there was nothing she could do about it.
I pulled my erect cock out of my pants, coming around so she could see it. She stared at it, the long hard shaft bobbing in front of her.
“No, please. I’ll do anything. There's money in my purse. Please…” she begged.
She was trying to buy me off. But it was too late for that. I could have her purse and her as well. No, she was going to get what she deserved. I showed her the knife right up close so that she could almost feel the sharp edge, the glinting steel. “Don’t make a sound,” I said.
She whimpered so delightfully and fell against the rope but it was strong.
I stepped up to her and grabbed one leg lifting it up to my side. She was the right height in those monstrous heels. I had only to bend a little, line up my cock with her opening, and press up. I ran the tip of my cock around her pussy, wetting it and spreading her juices, then pressed forward burying my cock deeply into her.
She moaned this time, a different sound, a sound she would be ashamed of later. I reveled in that sound. Oh yes, she would love it, my fucking her. I knew the moment I saw her that she would love my shaft. Women love it, even when they pretend they don’t.
Flexing my knees I withdrew then, slammed hard back up into her. I could tell she was trying to hold back the moans of pleasure she felt being filled with my hard flesh. I wanted to hear her scream now, to break her resistance until she couldn’t hold back. I slammed up into her again and again. With my free hand I mauled her tits, twisting and pinching her nipples until they were red and filled with blood, sensitive to the slightest touch.
Her head fell back, the long red hair like a cascade of liquid fire down her back, jouncing around as I continued thrusting into her, filling her over and over, mashing against her loins, the wet slapping of body against body filling the empty warehouse and echoing back and forth in the bay.
Her hands started convulsing against the rope bonds, grabbing them, pulling them and I could see the red flush of her pretty pale skin on her chest. Knowing I was bringing her to climax against her will excited me and the pressure built in my balls. I wanted her to feel it, my climax, my possession of her.
“Take it, slut. Take my cum,” I snarled. The dam burst and my cum shot up into her convulsing pussy, shot after shot.
She screamed as she felt the hot cum spilling into her pussy. She trembled as if possessed by a fit, shaking from top to bottom as I emptied myself into her.
Then it was over. I pulled my cock from her violated body and watched as our viscous cum ran down her legs. She shook her head throwing her long red hair behind as she sighed and took a few deep breaths.
She looked down at the ripped remains of her clothing scattered around her. "I hope you brought a change of clothes."
I nodded, reaching over for a brown paper bag. It held everything she'd need. I had raided her drawers when she wasn't aware; it was old serviceable stuff so she never missed it during the week that I planned this whole thing. I got up and cut the rope holding her hands. She rubbed her wrists. "Does it hurt?" I asked.
"A little chaffing,” she said, "But it was worth it."
"Really?" I asked, cheered to know.
"Yes, it was just like my fantasy. You did it perfectly." She looked around at the derelict building. "No one is here?" she asked, suddenly uncomfortable being naked in public like this. She quickly began dressing.
I couldn’t tell her that chances are there was somebody, as derelict as the building, hiding and watching. Instead I looked around, "It's deserted." She was almost dressed so I quickly drew back on my pants, which were down around my ankles. "Did you park where I told you?" She nodded. "I'll walk you back to your car."
My legs were actually a little wobbly. “Damn, Brenda. I’m glad I’ve been using that stair machine. My legs are feeling it. That’s a hard position,” I said.
She laughed, “Too hard?”
“Very funny.” Then we both laughed.
We started away, now that we were dressed; she looked back at the scene: the clothes, the knife, rope, and rug. "Leave it," I said. It's not really anything we need.”
She mused, "I guess not. You don't want to be..."
I had to laugh, "Nope, I liked being the rapist but this is a case of better to give than receive."
She reached out and pulled my face to hers, kissing me sweetly. "You were a perfect rapist."
I led her out of the warehouse and down the street, arm in arm, helping her navigate the dirty sidewalk in those high heels, leaving behind everything except the memory of pleasure.
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