You heard the reports. Girls have gone missing, from their homes, from the street, from any time they had been alone. It has been happening for weeks, at least three girls just… gone. No ransom, no demands, no real evidence.. just gone.
But you were confident. It wouldn’t happen to you. It couldn’t. What were the odds?
And so you walked home every night, along the same path at the same time. She, you kept your eyes open, you kept pepper spray in your hand, you walked fast. You thought you were safe enough.
Then we you walked home the last time you heard something behind you. A sharp crackle and the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly, the scuff of boots and the sound of breath . You tried to turn, to see what was coming, but you were too slow, whoever it was reached you, wrapped you in his arms, pressed something to your back that felt like you were being stabbed, pressed a cloth over your mouth that burned your nose and lungs.
You tried to struggle, but the grip was to strong, the chemicals to potent, the stun gun to painful. You could do nothing but fall backwards as darkness took you, passed over you, drew you down into sweet oblivion.
You never even got a look at your attacker. The just thing you felt was something pricking your arm.
When you finally come to your body hurts. That’s the first thing you feel. Your shoulders, your neck, your knees, your ankles, your hips. Seemingly every joint in your body is stiff, painfully sore, and stretched.
The second thing you notice is the sound. The hum of a car engine and rasp of tires on road.
You realize there’s cloth in your mouth, tape over your lips.
Your hands are bound behind your back, wrists together. Your ankles are similarly bound and pulled back, tied to your wrists.
Your eyes are gritty, blurry, aching. You have to blink over and over again to clear them, to be able to see, still somewhat blurry, where you are. Light punches into your brain for a moment, causing you to blink more, but eventually you see.
You’re in a dog cage. Not one of the flimsy wire ones. No. This is the big reinforced cages for dogs bigger than you are. The kind made to hold angry canines secure. There are slats at the top, through which bright daylight shines.
It takes you a second to realize what that means. It was dark when you were grabbed. Night had fallen. The clubs were emptying.
But it is bright blue out now. It was hours later, at least. Your bladder was full to screaming.
Finally all this came crashing down on to your addled mind. You’d been taken. Drugged and taken. No one knew where you were. No one had seen anything.
Panic sets in. You begin to scream into the cloth gagging you. You struggle against your bindings. You pull and twist and strain with everything you have. Pain digs in to your wrists and ankles. Air burns in your lungs. You try. You try so hard.
It doesn’t work, of course. You’re too well tied. To securely bound. You feel warm wetness around your wrists. Blood. Your blood.
It begins to settle in. You can’t escape. Not this. Not right now.
You manage to look down at yourself. Your clothesv are still on. There is no ache between your legs. You haven’t been raped. Not yet anyway.
You try to take stock of your situation. The cloth in your mouth is silky. It tastes of some kind of chemical, but it feels familiar.
Panties. It’s silky panties. You’re clothes are still intact so they probably aren’t yours. That chills you to the bone.
Some other girl’s underwear.
This brings a new round of panic and struggle, you try to be loud, you try to pull. You tell yourself that the pain doesn’t matter. That if you just pull hard with you’ll get free.
But you can’t. It hurts so much. You can feel more blood on your wrists, the strain on your legs. You just can’t make yourself hurt more.
You start crying. Maybe you’d been crying the whole time. At the very least you begin sobbing into your gag.
Through all of this, whoever is driving doesn’t react. No sound, no music, nothing.
You cry and you cry and you weep and you moan. You don’t know how long. But eventually your body gives you its first betrayal.
Your bladder is too full. It releases without your permission. Warm liquid spreads across your crotch, puddling underneath you, spreading out to you feel it on your side. You can only cry harder from the fear, the humiliation, the knowledge that your never going home again.
You don’t know how long it tastes, but eventually you feel the vehicle slow and turn. Hear the sound of asphalt give away to gravel. See the sun get blocked by trees. Then your driving through woods. Some forest somewhere. Someplace the trees are thick enough to block the sun almost entirely, thick enough, to muffle the sound of screaming. And still you travel. Slowly, carefully, moving down an uneven gravel road no one knows the name of.
Finally, you feel the vehicle stop.
Your heart hitches in your chest. Panic that had settled in to dread begins to rise. You start to breath hard and try to struggle more as you hear the drivers door open and slam closed.
It seems to take forever, but the hatch opens, and you see the silhouette of a man looking down at you. You can hear the noises of dogs barking, men talking, and women moaning and crying.
You can’t see them. Not yet. But you can hear them.
The figure you can see opens the cage.
You feel my hand on your leg, gripping your calf tight and pulling you down to me.
“I’m going to cut your legs loose. You kick me and I’m going to cut you. Do you understand? Nod if yes “
My voice is not steel to you. It’s mildly bored, as if I’d done this before, done it so often that the conclusion was inevitable. This is routine.
“Good girl. “ I say as I cut the rope connecting the cuffs around your wrists to the ziptie around your ankles. I pull your legs straight and you whimper with the pain ofb the stiffness in your knees. Then you whimper again as I pull you further down, so your hips lined up with the back of the vehicle, and your bent over, face down in your own puddle of piss.
The moans and crying continue from the distance.
“You’re going to learn a few truths. The first is that your body is no longer your own. “ My voice softens slightly. “You are mine now. You will do as your told out you will be hurt until you do. You’re a slave.”
Shiver and try to twist away as you feel my hands on your ass, sliding up to hook under the top of your jeans. Then you hear a metallic click. You look over your shoulder and see me holding a pocket knife, blade bright in the light. I slide it into your jeans and begin cutting.
You stay frozen as you feel me slice down, cutting the jeans off of you with practiced motions.
“The second truth you will learn is that you will surrender. Right now you’re thinking of fighting. Running. Resisting. That’s understandable. But you can hear the others. They thought like you do. That they could run. That they could fight. That they wouldn’t surrender.” I purr the final word, the first real emotion you’ve heard out of me. You feel the knife slip under the cloth of your underwear and pull slightly, cutting it in two places. The air against your skin feels like a violation. The way the breeze tickles you is somehow terrifying in that moment.
You look behind to see me pocket your panties.
“The sound you hear are the other girls. They have been here long enough to surrender. To learn. They’re cumming on the cocks of their masters. You’re going to join them. You’ll learn to beg. To crave.. to need. You’ll love us hurting you. You’ll worship us for raping you. You’ll thank us when the time comes, and we kill you.”
The words sink in and you begin to cry again. You don’t struggle. Not really. You’re to scared to do much of anything. Your heart is beating in your chest. So hard you hear it might explode.
“That’s the third truth. You’re going to die here. Not now. Not soon. Not cleanly. Not painlessly. But when we decide we’re done with you. When you’re worn out, when all thought had left your eyes, when we’re bored, you’ll die.” You hear me spit and feel my hand on your cunt, pushing fingers in to you. “Wet already. You’re going to be a good girl. You’ll last longer of you surrender sooner.. it won’t change anything. You’re still going to die screaming on my cock. “
You scream at that, you scream as I push my length in to your body, stretching your pussy wide as I violate you for the first time. The first of many times. I press until I’m buried to the hilt, filling your body and taking center stage in your mind.
“The last thing you should know is that this isn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong. You were just too pretty. To vulnerable.” I begin to move. To pull out if you and thrust back in with practiced rhythm. Your body clenches around me, trying to stop the intrusion, but you can’t. Despite the burning pain of being forced to accept me, your body is reacting. Wetness is spreading. Your body is betraying you again. “You’re a victim. My victim. My perfect, beautiful victim. You’re a good girl. You’re going to die a good girl. “
With that you feel my hand around the back of your neck, squeezing hard and pushing your face in to the puddle of your own piss, as I fuck you harder and harder. You scream and cry and beg in to your gag. You twist and struggle and try to kick. You what to resist. You want what I’m saying to not be true. But as your screams and moans join the chorus of the other girls, you feel the tightness rising, the hard knot of pleasure in your belly as your pounded in to the vehicle before you hard enough you know your going to have bruises on your thighs.
Finally, the building orgasm takes you, and you scream once more, this time in terrible pleasure, you tighten around me so hard that I cum with you, filling your treacherous cunt with my seed.
You shudder and cry and suffer, but you know I was right. Your body belongs to me. You’re going to surrender, you’ve already started. That just leaves the third.
You’re going to die on my cock.
Over your sobs, you hear me growl in to your ear as my cock slides out of your ruined cunt
if this isn’t the way I die I don’t want it
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