Roxy Baby

Roxy Baby

As she walked towards the circle of cars I knew I had seen her before. Bewdley is a small place so it’s easy to bump into the same people in the same pubs and shops. I doubt that she had noticed me but the confident swing of her hips and the enticing bounce of her large breasts had aroused more than my attention a couple of times. So she was joining the doggers now? Interesting and intriguing. I had assumed that she would have the safe wimpy boyfriend and a desire to move to the bright light of Bromsgrove before getting the Barratt rabbit hutch with the 52” screen tv and the brats that go with it. Yet here she was walking towards the Saturday night gathering without a care in the world.

Hidden in the trees as I was no one could see me watching them. I lifted my powerful night sight glasses and saw her absorbed into the group, a tall thin guy taking no time in getting his hands on those big tits and then between her legs. I watched as she was pushed back against the car, her legs spreading wide as her dress was pushed further up, even through the glasses I could see his arm moving firmly and I could imagine that his fingers would be deep inside her cunt. How long had that taken? Less than five minuets and she was being used by a stranger. I smiled to myself as I heard her groan of ecstasy before they bundled her into the back of the car. I didn’t wait to see what would happen next; I knew from past experience that she would get fucked by all of them, that she would leave with spunk running down her legs and that she would be back, they always come back for more and more…

Before I slipped away I carefully noted her registration number and fifteen minuets after arriving home I had found her name, address, date of birth, passport number, medical records…the internet is a powerful tool if you know how to use it. I even found some pictures, an obvious ‘girls night out’ party dresses and lots of flesh. I smiled to myself and reached down and patted Devil, my coal black Great Dane ‘What do you think old fella, shall we have some fun with this slut? Been a while since we had someone to play with hasn’t it?’ Chuckling to myself I began to plan my next move…..

The advantage of a dog is that most people don’t look at you, they look at the dog. If it’s clean, quiet, healthy looking and on a lead they seem to trust you more than if you were on your own, it’s almost as if they think ‘He loves his dog, he must be ok’..If only they knew! That’s probably what Roxy baby – as she had already become to me – thought when she saw me in the shadows of the car park a couple of days later. I was kneeling down with Devil not far from the driver’s side door of her car as if I was putting on or taking off the collar. I didn’t look up as she walked past me but I swear I could almost feel her smile at the big black dog as she reached into her handbag for her keys.

A quick look behind me assured me that we were alone and as she fitted the key into the lock I stood upright and took a long step towards her with the dogs’ lead held taught between my hands. In an instant it was around her neck, my strong arms pulling it tight, forearms braced against her shoulder blade as I used as much pressure as I dared. The shock and the pain paralyzed her for a few moments but as I pulled harder, my knee in the small of her back she began to react, head tossing from side to side, arms reaching for the leather cutting off her breath.

“Roxy Baby, if you don’t want to die here in this car park then put your hands down and keep still. Do as I say and you will live, disobey me and you will die.” I applied a little more pressure and her hands waved ineffectually around her neck before dropping to her side. I pushed her firmly towards the corner of the car park and my nondescript Mondeo with it’s ‘I love dogs’ sticker in the window. The boot was unlocked and a nudge with my knee made the door glide upwards, exposing the empty dark space inside. She began to struggle as she realised what I intended so I pushed her head firmly down into the duvet I had placed there earlier. My left hand held her head down as I pulled the ball gag out of my pocket with my right. I moved my hand from the side of her head and gripped her nose, causing her head to jerk back and her mouth to open. I roughly stuffed the gag into her mouth and pulled the wide Velcro strap tight. In the gloom I could see the white of her eye get bigger as she began to realize there was no escape and the shock of my assault wore off to be replaced by fear and dread. Her hands were easily secured behind her back with a nylon cable tie and once I had tipped her half into the boot – her skirt riding up tantalisingly – I did the same to her ankles.

I slipped the black velvet drawstring bag that served as a hood over her head and wondered if she could smell the stale perfume and make up from the others that had been in her position; the thought making my cock lurch that extra notch to it’s hardest. What had the last one been called? Teresa. That was it. She was tall, slim and athletic, her struggles and my retribution now a sweet memory.

Pulling the duvet around her I slammed the boot shut before opening the two driver’s side doors. Devil jumped in and immediately began sniffing at the back seat as I quickly started the engine and drove carefully out of the car park. I was soon on the Clobury Rd and shortly afterwards pulled into the long drive that leads to the old cottage my parents left me. What the cottage lacked in creature comforts – central heating for instance – it made up for it with that most precious of commodities, privacy. I parked the car at the side of the house and opened the back door before opening the boot and cutting the tie holding her legs. She didn’t struggle as I pulled her out of the boot and onto her feet. Her head was hanging forward and I could hear rasping sobs coming from inside the hood as fear and the lack of oxygen combined to subdue her.

I gripped the back of her jacket and pushed her into the kitchen, locking the door behind me. I started to push her through the kitchen and up to the stairs but she was difficult to control, bumping into the table and then the door frame as she started to resist. I turned her towards me and swiftly punched her in the solar plexus, not too hard, just enough to knock the breath out of her. As she slumped forward from the blow I hooked my shoulder into her waist and lifted her in a fireman’s lift before carrying her up the stairs and into what I laughingly called the guest bedroom. My guests have not always appreciated the time and trouble I have taken to make their stay with me memorable but I think of it as part of the service. The solid oak door has been altered to take a five point lock, the window has tight fitting internal shutters, the floor and walls have been covered with acoustic underlay to deaden the sound but it’s the bed I’m most proud of. Made from scaffold poles it is bolted to the floor with the ‘headboard’ extending to the ceiling both for stability and to provide a variety of fixing points for the shackles that I provide for the ‘comfort and security’ of my guests.