The Bridesmaid

The twenty-eight year old woman—a stunning blonde that made men run into lamp posts when passing her on the street—had come to a strange city to be a bridesmaid at her good friend’s wedding the following day. She was returning from a bachelorette party, where she had had a little too much to drink, and was therefore not as attentive to her surroundings as she should have been when pausing at her hotel room door and fumbling in her purse for the magnetic room key card. She was therefore not aware of the man standing behind her as she finally opened the door, nor was she aware of the fact that he followed her into the room before the door closed behind her. She was aware of nothing until the man suddenly and with great strength locked her from behind in a full nelson, her purse still on her shoulder, and hustled her to the king size bed in the middle of the room where he forced her face down onto the mattress, his weight heavy upon her. Before she could summon the wherewithal to scream—before she could even fully comprehend what was happening—a thick rag was stuffed into her gaping mouth, quickly followed by a cloth cinch that secured the rag when tied tightly around her head. When comprehension at last came flooding over her, a scream that emanated in her throat died a muffled death in the gag.

Comprehension was further reinforced as the young woman next felt the cold, hard steel of handcuffs around her wrist and then heard the disheartening click that the cuff made when snapped tightly shut, pinching her skin in the process. This washed away her semi-inebriated state in a flood of terror. Feeling her purse being pulled from her shoulder, and then her arm drawn roughly behind her back, the young blonde screamed again into her gag and mounted her first struggle of resistance, kicking her feet in wild desperation as the man sat upon her buttocks. She managed to pull her other arm away from the man’s grasp when she felt him reaching for it. Her attacker, however, quickly tracked down this arm and forcibly yanked it behind her back to join her other one, causing the young blonde to shriek in pain. The cry was muffled to such an extent, though, that there was no way anyone in an adjoining room could have heard her. There was quickly a second click of the handcuffs and the young woman’s wrists were firmly secured together behind her back. Her body twisted and jerked beneath her attacker’s weight in futile protest.

The young woman then felt the man’s considerable weight lift off her. She was able to roll away from him and onto her side. With her heart pounding and her eyes wide with fear, she sucked in air through flared nostrils above the gag in her mouth. She tried desperately to bring her arms around, but cried in pain as the handcuffs bit into the flesh of her wrists.

The man then left the bed and began walking back to the door of the hotel room. The young woman rolled off the far side of the bed and landed on her feet after almost falling to the floor—one of her medium heeled shoes had come off in the brief scuffle and now, with one shoe on and one off, her balance was compromised. She watched, wide eyed, as the man, now at the door, turned the deadbolt and set the chain lock in place. A sickness enveloped her when she saw the man turn around at the door and face her, a non-humorous smile contorting his lips. Again she yanked at the handcuffs. Again there was sharp pain in her wrists. She screamed, but anyone in the adjoining rooms would have had to have their ears pressed to the wall to hear the muffled cry, and at this late hour that was highly improbable.

The young blonde backed slowly away as the intruder began walking calmly toward her. She recognized him. He had gotten into the elevator with her just minutes ago—in fact, she had held the elevator door open for him as it was about to close. He had smiled politely and tipped his baseball cap at her as the elevator doors shut. She had smiled back at him, thinking it odd that someone was wearing sunglasses at that hour of the night, but then turned her full attention back to the messages on her smart phone as the elevator ascended. She had not been aware that he had gotten off on the same floor as she. Or that he had followed her….

Their eyes locked now. The man was no longer wearing sunglasses, and his eyes fairly shown with lust as he regarded the young woman backing away from him, her own eyes fearful and as wide as saucers. With her chest heaving from panicked breathing, she tried to talk to him, but her words were hopelessly suppressed by the thick rag in her mouth. Soon, she bumped into the curtains of the hotel room’s window, and could back up no further. The man, however, continued stepping carefully toward her. Again she let fly with a flurry of words that were rendered completely unintelligible by her gag.

The man paused at arm’s length from the young woman. She was wearing a delicate, tight fitting white blouse with buttons in the front, the type of blouse which, with the help of a very expensive bra beneath, uplifted and showcased her breasts in a way that weakens a man’s legs. That was especially the case here, where the top two buttons were undone, providing more than a little hint of tantalizing cleavage. It was a bare midriff blouse that also showed off a slender waist and the beginning swell of hips above a pair of low riding, tight fitting, coral colored denim slacks. She stood awkwardly on one medium heeled shoe and one bare foot.

They watched each other intently for a long moment, the young woman breathing heavily and with difficulty given the rag in her mouth, and the man, it seemed, hardly breathing at all. As they stared at each other, it was as if each was waiting to see what the other did.

It was the man who acted first. He turned and walked away from her. There was a moment of disbelief, and then a sigh of relief that caused the young woman’s tense body to sag. Of course, this was just a mistake! Some sort of a game this man was playing, but he had the wrong room! He was leaving now. Of course, that was it! Oh, my god yes! This was just a terrible case of mistaken identity!

But why isn’t he taking my handcuffs off? The young blonde continued watching the man’s movements with the wariness of a cornered animal, and her sense of relief faltered when she saw him stoop to pick up from the floor a medium sized black bag that he had apparently brought with him. She watched in confusion as he pulled some articles out of the bag. She couldn’t tell at first what they were. There was not a great deal of light in the room. She was still in doubt as she watched the man hold up a metal device with three short tubes coming from its core and saw him begin to pull on the tubes, extending them outward four or five feet. But she didn’t recognize what the contraption was until she next saw the man pull a video camera from the bag and attach it to the device. A tripod! And when set on the floor, it positioned the camera a good six feet in the air. The young woman watched in mounting confusion as she saw the man point the camera to the bed. It was only after she saw the camera’s red recording light come on, and then saw the man look back to her and give her his non-humorous smile, that she realized that her attacker was not only not leaving, but he was going to record whatever…whatever was going to happen! The realization of this caused her legs to nearly buckle. A warm flow of urine slowly soaked the crotch of her coral colored jeans.

The man now walked back to where the young woman cowered by the window of the hotel room. This time he moved quickly, decisively. As he grasped her by the biceps of her right arm, she cried into her gag and twisted her body away from him. He shoved her against the drapes and gave her face quick, hard slaps, first across one cheek, then the other. The blows made her head snap. Stunned, she sagged against the curtains. Her assailant then doubled her over his shoulder and carried her kicking and squirming to the bed where in dumped her roughly onto the mattress, in full view of the dull red light of the video camera.

The young woman rolled onto her back—her forearms beneath her—and lifted her legs, cocking them into a martial arts pose, ready to kick out at the intruder. Her head shook hurriedly back and forth. The strap of the gag around her head kept most of her long, blonde hair in place, but several strands of it tossed wildly in the air. Incoherent words continued to jam into her gag.

The man watched her carefully, an expression of amusement on his face. Then, he moved closer still and paced a knee on the edge of the bed. The young woman kicked at him as viciously as she could. The blow with her heel struck him in the thigh, but did not faze him. To the contrary, his hand moved quickly and caught her ankle before she could pull back. She attempted to kick him with her other leg but missed wide, and in that instant her attacker was between her legs. Squirming madly on the bed, the young woman continued to thrash her legs, but her target was too close, and the considerable energy that she was expending was entirely in vain. Her cries continued to die in her gag, heard by her assailant and nobody else.

The man moved atop the young woman’s legs and sat on her thighs, his knees on either side of her as she thrashed and twisted beneath him. It was when her assailant reached for his bag that he had left on the bed and withdrew a black handled knife with a six inch blade that the young woman froze. Her saucer-sized eyes widened yet further as she saw the lethal weapon. It’s sleek, steel blade fairly glistened before her, despite the fact that the hotel room was only dimly lit by lamp light, and she began to sob hysterically. The sounds she made, however, muffled as they were by the rag stuffed in her mouth, could not have been heard by anyone even had they happened to have been passing by in the hallway at that late hour. Another stream of warm urine besotted the crotch of her tight fitting pants, very close to where the man sat atop her.

The young blonde’s terrified, wide eyes followed the movements of the dreadful knife wielded by the man sitting on her legs, his knees on either side of bare midriff. She tried mightily to extract her bound arms from beneath her back to protect herself, but it was useless: unhindered, the point of the knife carefully circled around her tummy and poked at her navel. The lethally sharp point pricked her skin with each upward swell of her panicked breathing. Crying, she pulled her tear-filled eyes away from the knife and looked upward into the eyes of her assailant. Unable to speak, she could only shake her head back and forth in a silent plea for him not to use the knife on her. As she did so, strands of her long, blonde hair came loose from the cloth cinch around her head that kept her gag in place.

It was the man who broke the eye contact. He needed to see what he was doing when he nosed the blade of his knife under the bottom of the young woman’s blouse. The knife paused there, and there was silence in the room for a moment as the young woman’s sobbing momentarily ceased—it was as if she were too afraid to cry. It became so quiet, in fact, that they both heard the popping sound made as the knife gently severed the bottom button of the woman’s blouse. She gasped audibly into her gag at this, and her wild eyes grew ever larger. Then, in a movement so sudden and violent that it shocked the young woman to her soul, the knife swung upward, ripping apart the remaining buttons of her blouse, sending them flying, and laying open the flimsy garment as if it were tissue paper. A delicate, white bra beneath was exposed. Yet another squirt of urine added to the wetness of the young woman’s pants.

Her eyes pleaded for mercy as she shook her head and mumbled into the rag stuffed in her mouth. What she saw in the eyes of her attacker, however, made her gulp in despair. They were the eyes of a starving tiger, and the way in which he was looking at her made her feel like a prey lying wounded and helpless before him. Her attacker was, in fact, literally licking his chops, not quite able to believe his good fortune with regard to the quality of the prey he had just bagged. This young woman was Sports Illustrated swimsuit material. Her skimpy white bra could have been a bikini top, although not too many SI swimsuit models had gags stuck in their mouths and terrorized expressions on their beautiful faces.

As the young lady lay trembling in fear on her back, her chest rising and falling with frantic breathing, her attacker carefully inched his knife between her skin and the thin strap connecting the two cups of her bra. She stared bug eyed at the lethal blade for a moment as it paused, its steel finish gleaming between her breasts. She then looked quickly back up at the face of her assailant. He was smiling at her, but it was the most fearsome smile she had ever seen. Her chest continued to rise and fall in terror, her frightened breathing now quite audible in the otherwise quiet of the room. As the eyes of prey and predator locked, time seemed to have stopped for the prey. Until, in a heartbeat, the knife flashed again, this time slashing through the thin center strap of her flimsy bra, splitting it apart. The woman squealed in fear as her firm, full breasts spilled forth, twin buoys with nipples on top, bobbing on a chest heaving with the tortured breathing of a captured prey.

The beautiful young woman was finding her entire situation beyond belief. Only an hour ago she had been having a ton of fun at a bachelorette party with a dozen other young ladies, laughing with them in the after-hours bar as they recalled the male stripper who had performed for them earlier in the evening. Now, here she was being stripped herself by an evil attacker who was staring avidly at the breasts that he had just bared.

Her assailant now laid the knife between those breasts and scooted his body down to where he now sat on her knees. With patient fingers, he began to fumble with the top button of her urine soaked denim jeans. Thoroughly comprehending by now the full extent of her attacker’s intentions, the young woman found renewed courage. She was not going to be raped so easily. Pulling one leg up sharply, she was able to extricate it beneath her attacker’s weight and quickly kick him in the chest as violently as she could. In doing so, the knife slide from her chest and fell to the mattress beside her. In answer to her renewed struggle, the man again slapped both sides of her face, more viciously this time, stunning her, stopping her crying in mid sob. He grasped her firmly by the chin and regarded her for a long moment, then slapped her hard two more times until her body went lifeless beneath him and her head fell to the side. Her cheeks were a bright, crimson red, and blood trickled from both nostrils and pooled at both corners of her mouth, turning the white gag in her mouth a dull pink.

Her attacker retrieved his knife. With his left hand he squeezed one of her breasts, making the nipple rise upward. His right hand brought the knife blade to where it touched the nipple. For the first time, he spoke. “You fight me, sweetie, and I’ll carve my initials in your tits! Do you fucking understand me?”

The young blonde starred upward at her attacker in absolute fear. She gave no sign of compliance to his threat, or even an acknowledgement that she understood it. The slaps had definitely stunned her. Whether she understood or not, she offered no resistance when her attacker proceeded in undoing the top button of her jeans and lowering the zipper. He paused to remove the one, medium heeled shoe that had remained on her foot, and then began tugging the jeans downward. The body-hugging fit of the pants made them difficult to pull off her curvaceous ass and hips, but the man, swearing softly under his breathe, eventually managed. Their tightness caused her urine soaked panties to pull part way down as the pants came down her long, sleek legs and off her feet. The final tug of the jeans had been with an upward motion which had lifted the young woman’s feet slightly into the air. When the jeans at last came fully off, her feet plopped back lifelessly back to the mattress, her legs parted slightly. Her panties had pulled down enough that blonde pubic hair would have shown had the young woman not so closely shaved there.

Her pants were then tossed to the other side of the room, and her attacker turned to drink in the sight of the young woman’s body, now nude save for the tattered blouse and bra that draped her shoulders and the tiny, urine soaked thong panties that lay askew across her pubic region. He studied her intently as she writhed ever so slightly on the bed, arms pinned beneath her back, head rolling lazily from side to side on the mattress as she moaned softly into the rag that he had stuffed into her mouth. His eyes lingered on her naked breasts, and the nipples that sat atop them. He considered her breasts to be perfect. They were firm enough to nicely defy gravity as she laid on her back, and they were natural. No silicone for this blonde.

The man’s eyes then traveled to the woman’s narrow waist, which gave obvious evidence of many hours in a gym somewhere. Then there were the tantalizing swells of her hips, around the widest part of which stretched the side straps of her partially pulled down thong panties. The penis inside the man’s pants hardened even further as he contemplated the thought of ripping those panties off her. But first, he continued his visual inventory of her body, his eyes moving down long, silky smooth legs that were tanned and well-toned, probably from hours of tennis every week. She looked country club rich. He had first noticed the expensive looking wedding ring on her finger when she pressed the button in the elevator, and saw it again closer up as he was handcuffing her. So…he was going to be having some rich bastard’s wife! Fantastic! He found the thought of this to be almost as great a turn-on as the spectacular body itself.

He had first spotted this honey at the bachelorette party earlier that evening. She had been the hottest of the seven or eight attractive young women in attendance, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as he watched from a dark corner of the club, sipping his brandy, patiently biding his time. He was a good looking man, well built, and had always had more than his share of consensual ass. It fact, he had fucked so many women the “conventional” way that he had come to find it rather boring. For a long time he had harbored the fantasy of raping a strange woman, but had never acted upon it—until this evening. He had always thought that if he did act upon his fantasy, it could be the perfect crime. In his entire life he had never had more than a parking ticket. His record was spotlessly clean. So, if he roughs a woman up a bit, and she cries rape to the cops, it would be a case of “he said/she said”, and, hey officer, she told me she liked it rough! Hauled before a judge? We had a safe word, your honor, and she never used it.

The man ordered another brandy as he watched the bachelorette party and the one young lady in particular and decided that the time had come. If at all possible, he was going to have the cute blonde in the white top and tight fitting, coral colored jeans! He was certainly prepared. A rape kit in a black bag was in the trunk of his car: handcuffs, duct tape, gags, rope, and knife. And K-Y Jelly. As he took a swig of his second brandy, he popped a Viagra pill. He was a model Boy Scout: always prepared.

When the bachelorette party eventually broke up, he followed the women from a distance as they walked out of the club. The one he was interested in stopped to chat with one of the other women on the sidewalk outside. It was a warm night requiring no jackets, and the sight of his target’s bare midriff was as intriguing to him as the sight of a mouse is to a house cat. He could overhear them talking. The other woman was offering his target a ride. Well, maybe his evening would involve the other woman, as well? But then his target was shaking her head, and soon the other woman turned and departed and his target stepped alone into taxi that pulled up.

His car, with the rape kit waiting in the trunk, was parked nearby. As he followed the cab, he was imagining that she required a taxi because she had had too much to drink. He imagined that the taxi was taking her home. Did she live in a house or an apartment? Who would be at home? A roommate? A husband? A boyfriend? Any of those possibilities could foil his plans. He chose to hope that she lived alone.

To his surprise, the taxi, after several miles, pulled into an upscale hotel. A hotel? Would she be alone? Or was a husband or boyfriend awaiting her? He could hardly control his excitement.

Parking hurriedly while the young woman paid the cab, the man opened the trunk of his car and grabbed his bag. He also donned a baseball cap and sunglasses that were stowed there. No one viewing hotel security camera videos later would be able to get a good description of him.

He managed to ride up in the same elevator with her to her floor. She had even held the elevator open for him when she noticed him hurrying toward it. She smiled at him as he entered the elevator, and he smiled back, tipping the bill of his baseball cap. But then, the young blonde became absorbed in the text messages on her cell phone as they ascended. She smiled at him again as the doors of the elevator opened and she stepped out. He could tell she was wobbly from her evening of drinking as she ambled down the hallway, completely unaware of his presence behind her as she continued to read her messages.

As she fumbled with the key card at the door, he decided there must be no one waiting for her inside, and that all systems were go. He stood behind the woman silently. To the security camera staring at them from down the hallway, it would appear that they were together. She invited me to her room, your honor. He would not attack her until they were inside the room. She finally managed to open the door. If he was wrong? If a 250 pound husband was in the room? He was prepared to turn and flee if necessary.

Well, fleeing had not been necessary. And now, the hot young blonde who frequently made men run into lamp posts when passing her on the street, was virtually naked. And she was all his. All of her.

She had been so consumed by the pain from his slaps to her face that she was only vaguely aware that he was pulling her pants off her legs, and after they were off, she could barely stir as she lay there on her back, her forearms and hands beneath her numb from her own weight. As her head began to clear, she opened her eyes slightly, just enough to see her attacker standing by the foot of the bed, watching her. She knew she was going to be raped. Weeping softly, her thoughts raced to her dear husband at home, whom she knew would be totally devastated by the fact of a rapist sexually possessing his sweet, beautiful young wife! She already knew that her husband could never learn of this. She would have to keep it from him or it would destroy him. This was her fault. She had been so careless! She should have been suspect of the man in the elevator wearing sunglasses at night. She should have looked around her before opening the door to her hotel room. The ease with which she has become his prey made her roll her head back and forth on the mattress in dismay. It was as infuriating to her as the attack itself. She had taken many self-defense lessons at her club, but had been totally subdued before getting in so much as a single scratch with her nails or a bite of her teeth.

As her head slowly cleared, she became panicked by another thought that raced into her mind. Her husband and she had decided a month ago that, after nearly two years of marriage, it was time for her to get pregnant. Her heart pounding, she realized the danger she now faced, given that six weeks previously she had stopped taking birth control pills. Since then, she and her husband had been trying hard to make it happen, having sex nearly every night, including each of the six nights prior to this trip. In fact, tonight would have been the seventh night in a row had her husband come with her, as they had originally planned, but last minute business kept this from happening. She had thought about that with regret in the taxi coming back to the hotel from the bachelorette party, because she was feeling particularly horny in the back of the taxi. Little did she know that the car behind the taxi, whose lights lit up the interior of her cab, belonged to a man who was stalking her.

She now saw that man through half opened eyes as he continued to stand by the bed looking down at her. She shut her eyes and gulped into her blood and saliva soaked gag, hoping with all her might that she had already conceived from her husband so that she would not be impregnated by a rapist! She was encouraged by the fact that she was already several days late with her period. But…if in a month she discovered she was pregnant, how could she be sure who the father was? The thought of this caused her to choke into her gag. In fact, she was having great difficulty breathing. There was so much snot and blood in her nose—from crying and from the slaps to her face—that with her mouth gagged she could hardly get enough air.

She opened her eyes. She needed to plead for her attacker to let her breath! But what she saw brought renewed terror. The man was again holding the knife. He was still standing by the bed, but was leaning over her now. She shook her head vigorously as he brought the knife blade to her thighs. She jerked her leg in the wrong direction and pricked herself against the blade’s terrible sharp point. The pain from this caused her to squeal sharply into her gag. The man used a finger to whisk away the spot of blood that came to the surface of her thigh, and then licked the finger clean as the young woman stared upward at him in distress, her bare chest heaving with strained breathing. Her fear of impregnation had suddenly taken a back seat to her fear of death—either by choking on her gag or by wounds from that dreadful knife. The man smiled at her and nosed his knife beneath the side strap of her urine soaked thong panties. The blade slowly lifted the strap where it circled the curve of her hip. Though her body trembled, the young woman tried mightily not to make any more sudden moves lest she cut herself once again. For a long moment, the only sound in the otherwise quiet hotel room was the gentle sobbing of a woman knowing that she was going to be raped, and possibly worse. With the sharp edge of the knife, the man slowly pulled the panties strap away from her hip, father and farther…until at last it snapped. The young woman’s body jerked uncontrollably at this, and her sobs intensified. And then, the knife was under the strap that encircled the other hip, only there was no pause this time, and no slow tugging on the strap. This time the knife flashed suddenly and swiftly and in less time than it takes to say it, the ruined pair of panties was ripped from the young woman’s body and flung from the knife blade, striking the wall of the room, where it then slid to the floor, leaving a wet mark where it hit.

The frightened young woman, grimacing , her body shaking in irrepressible fear, instinctively brought her legs together, rolled onto her side and curled into a fetal position in an attempt to hide the most intimate part of her naked body—naked save for the tattered blouse and bra around her shoulders—from the eyes of her attacker.