Here’s a little more to the story, and don’t read if rape situations make you nervous:
“I work out…I have a job, a car…I dress nice. I’m confident. Why do they think I’m creep? Why do they all reject me? Give me a fucking chance!”
Pump your brakes, Petey. It isn’t you…it’s them, her. This is it…this bitch is going to tell me why. I removed my tie, shirts, shoes, pants, and underwear. Then I grabbed my dick. Fully engorged it was closing in on seven inches…it was hard then. An uncontrollable laughter took hold of me, one that I’d never heard before. Licking my lips, I knew what I had to do.
The coffee shop didn’t close till 11pm. Even after that, most employees stayed till midnight to close down. Plenty of time.
From the bedroom dresser I pulled out dark clothing; sweat pants, a hoodie, gloves; my winter wear. After getting dressed, I poured some scotch to calm my nerves. I’ve never…I’ve never been so mad. Eyes darting about, I had a second drink, and a third. It was coming up on 11:30. Taking a hand towel, and a bottle of acetone from beneath the bathroom sink, I calmly walked the few blocks back to the coffee shop. A few cars lined the rear parking lot. Crouched behind some bushes ensconced in the darkness I only waited for a moment.
Nina came out the back entrance; all smiles. I poured the acetone all over the rag. The scent was potent.
“Fucking bitch,” I muttered.
With my hood pulled over my face, I let her get to her car. As she fumbled with the keys, I closed the distance. Soon as she pulled the key from the door, I was on her. The rag went into her mouth. She choked and gagged, but the acetone took her breath away, and her huge panic breaths pulled in the vapors. She was out; limp against my chest.
I shoved her into the seat quickly. Then I forced her into the passenger side. With her keys I started the engine and sped away.
“Now, you’ll tell me why, won’t you, bitch!”
I punched her right in the side of the head. She whacked the window pretty hard, but I didn’t care. It was time for answers. Mere seconds later, I pulled up next to my car.
No one was around, so I dragged her out, flung her over my shoulder, and stormed into my apartment. With the door shut and locked, I dropped her onto the floor. She moaned and stirred a little. My eyes twitched in anger…my dick was hard as a box of pencils. The knowledge that she was coming to made me a little nervous. Snatching her blonde hair, I dragged her into the kitchen.
From the drawers I took a roll of duct tape and a new drying cloth. Figuring the one drenched in acetone ran the risk of making her vomit when gagged, I quickly balled up the clean one, stuffed in her mouth then shut it with a swatch of tape. It was then that her eyes came wide open. The confusion visibly washed over her. Next, her pain set in and she swooned but didn’t fall out. Trying to speak or scream, I don’t know, she made muffled sounds. Upon seeing me, tears streamed from her eyes. He made to get up, so I kicked her in the back of thigh forcing her head into the cabinets.
“Shut up, just…shut up,” I growled through clenched teeth.
With a kitchen knife in my hand I got real close to her. She cowered and cried more.
“I’m not going to kill you,” I whispered while pressing the point against the side of her neck. “But you move…or get too loud, and I’ll make sure you fucking wish I did kill you.”
The fear spiked. She was so scared she pissed herself. With revulsion, I backed away. I didn’t want to see that.
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
She just cried. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep going. My dick was still hard. Yeah, I wanna keep going.
Binding her hands behind her back with the duct tape, I then dragged over to a chair in the dinette. By propping her feet on the thin wooden braces in the chairs frame, and taping her ankles to the chair legs, I had her on display…except she still wore clothes…pissy clothes. Nina kept cowering, unable to look. I slapped her hard enough to make a smacking sound.
“I want you to see something,” I whispered and drew back my hood.
The sweetest sensation washed over my form when her eyes acquiesced to the reality of the situation; the horror, the guilt, the expectation reflected in her eyes. I blew a load in my pants right then and there. Unwanting though I was, an unknown chuckle escaped my mouth.
After heaving a sigh, I placed the knife against her cheek and cut just a little bit; enough to make her cry again; enough to draw blood.
“Give me a reason, bitch…I’ll fucking gut you.”
Yeah…after that it gets pretty dark pretty fast. So I know, right? It’s kinda messed up, but I figured writing it in 1st person forced the audience to be the attacker. Is this horror?