The Voice - Part Nine

(warning: contains non-consensual sex)

The hand on her mound sent rivers of ice through her veins. This couldn't be happening to her. Things like this didn't happen to her. She wasn't a victim; she'd gone through her whole life believing she could cope with whatever came her way. But not this. She couldn't cope with this.

She lay in miserable paralysis as his fingers pressed the plump flesh of her vulva through her knickers. There wasn't any point trying to wriggle away, there was no slack on the bonds that held her hands and feet to the top and bottom of the bed. Jillian held her breath and tensed every muscle in her body.

"There, isn't that good?" he whispered, rubbing her mons in slow circles. "Just the way you like it. You don't have to pretend with me. We know each other's hearts, don't we?"

All the bravery suddenly evaporated and Jillian sobbed aloud. Whoever he was, this man was completely insane. He was going to rape her, and then he was going to kill her. That's the way these things went. But how was be going to rape her on her back, with her legs tied together? Perhaps we wouldn't bother. He'd just kill her.

The bed sagged as she felt him move towards her, still touching her, until she felt him lower his head onto her tummy, low, between her hips. He let out a long, staggered breath and pressed his face against her crotch and moaned.

"What...what do you want?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he inhaled deeply, made a curious strangled sound, and twitched hard. It shook the whole bed.

For a moment he lay still, and then, without another word, he got up.

"Please...please don't hurt me," Jillian said. "I'll... I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt me."

But he wasn't listening. She heard the locks slide on the door, and the brightness of the light beyond washed over her as he let himself out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

 

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