The Voice - Part Five

(warning: contains non-consensual sex)

Something creaked softly, and Jillian realized it was the springs of a bed - beneath her. She didn't move, but blinked furiously, as if it would banish the darkness. It didn't produce anything but glittering phosphenes and a sharp pain in her temples.

"Ow," she whimpered into the blackness.

"You hit your head. You fainted. I was worried."

The voice made Jillian flinch. It was close, very close. She curled up her body and tried to inch away from it across the bed, but if she'd had any mobility at all before, it was gone now. Both her hands and feet were still bound together, but now they were anchored above and below to something immobile and unyielding. "Christ...Jesus Christ..." she gasped.

"Sssh. Don't struggle. I won't hurt you."

"You won't... Fuck!" Jillian spluttered. "You're hurting me now! My head hurts. My hands hurt. My feet hurt. Let me go!"

She heard and felt the bed jiggle beneath her. He was moving. Her heart began to pound hard at her chest.

"I'm not going to do that, Miss Brumley. You need to keep calm and be sensible about your situation. It's not like you didn't want this... I know you did. I know you very well indeed."

This time, the sensation of his hand on her leg didn't trigger panic. It forced her to start thinking. Who was this man? Where was she? The voice sounded vaguely familiar to her and she hunted her memory desperately for a name or a face to put to it.

The hand on her shin was moving slowly, inexorably upwards. Her instinct was to shift away, to get whatever distance she could from it, but she stopped herself. His touch was strange - greedy, yet hesitant. She was almost certain she could feel the presence of fear in the touch. It cost her to consider it, but perhaps he was, in some strange way, as frightened as she was.

Jillian did her very best to keep her voice even and calm. "Who are you?"

He made no response. The hand on her leg slid over her bare thigh, pushing up her skirt as it went. She could feel the slight chill of air against her skin. As his fingers reached the crook of her thigh, they followed the elasticised line of her knickers inward, like a man reading Braille.

He wasn't going to listen. He wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to stop.

"N-no. Please... don't." Jillian sobbed softly. She could feel the panic rising up inside her again. She wasn't at all sure she could fight it back down. "Please, please...who are you? Do I know you?"

His fingers were shaking as they slid between her thighs, cupping her panty-covered mound. "Know me? Of course you know me. You love me."

 

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