Trophy Wife

The Rape of a Trophy Wife

She was a twenty-five year old gold digger, married to a fat cat 72 year old son-of-a-bitch who showered her with monetary enticements. Although she hated with a passion whoever the fuck invented Viagra, the old fart’s sexual demands were really not that pressing. The main thing for him was to have an eye candy trophy wife on his arm when attending important public functions, and in terms of eye candy, this 5’-9” blonde was Lady Godiva chocolate.

Whenever the old codger did pop one of those magic little blue pills, his dick would harden, for sure, but he often barely had the energy to mount her, and if he did, his wheezing, asthmatic humping of her usually never lasted more than a minute before he emptied into her whatever contents he had in that seventy-two year old sac. Many times, the old geezer was more than content if his hottie young wife just did a blow job on him. In these instances, she was lucky if he fell asleep before ejaculating, and even if there were times when she caught an eyeful of his cum, or even if some of it got in her mouth, it disgusted her, but hey, it was all a small price to pay for the many fabulous perks she enjoyed, not to mention the fact that she would probably be taken out of his will if she refused to entertain him in this fashion. She figured she had a maximum of 15-16 years before he fucking kicked the bucket, less than that if she were lucky. Of course there would be his children from his first wife to contend with at the reading of the will, but she was confident of prevailing. In the meantime, her own sexual desires could be sated whenever she wished by any young stud she could invariably attract by literally just snapping her fingers.

One of the many perks she enjoyed was a bright yellow Porsche convertible. That was what she was driving one day, late morning, wearing a matching yellow tank top that showed a daring amount of cleavage, her long blonde hair blowing in the breeze, when a certain young man saw her and something inside him snapped. He knew immediately that he wanted her, that he would have her, and the possible consequences (thirty years in prison) of making it happen could be damned. The sight of her in her $90,000 sports car shattered his self-control, his caution. The fact that his girlfriend had recently dumped him may have fed his give-a-damn state of mind.

The young woman was a famous figure in this town of 100,000 inhabitants. The young man knew what every gossiping busybody in town had to say about her and her despicable gold digging. Driving his white service van, he pulled into traffic several cars behind the young woman’s Porsche and followed her. She led him to the outskirts of town, her stalker always maintaining two or three cars between them. At last her yellow Porsche convertible pulled into the long driveway of a mansion situated on a ten acre estate. The excited young man observed from the roadway as she drove down the forty meter drive, at the end of which an automatic garage door opened and swallowed the Porsche before closing.

The young man knew that the time had arrived. He had seen before the garage door closed that there were no other cars present. She must be alone. Or were there servants? He would find out.

Speeding off, the young man drove the fifteen minutes to his apartment, donned a service man’s uniform, selected an old gas company ID from a job he was fired from ten months previously, gathered a few other essentials that he figured he would need, and hopped back in his van for the return trip to the mansion where a hot, young blonde in a tight fitting yellow tank top awaited him. Hopefully, she was all by herself.

After pulling up before the mansion’s front doors fifteen minutes later, the conflicted young man had to ring the bell three times before the young woman whom he had previously followed peered out a window beside the door and asked him what he wanted. He was gratified to see that she was still wearing the tight, yellow tank top with the bold cleavage showing more than a hint of the upper part of what were obviously a lovely pair of boobs. He had reports of gas line leakage in the vicinity, he told her, and needed to check the gas line that came into her kitchen. No dummy, the young blonde asked through the window for identification. The man was more than glad to step to the window and flash his old gas company ID.

In the worst mistake of her life, the young blonde went to the front door and opened it. The man did not take more than three steps inside the door before landing a solid blow to the young woman’s belly, an impact that doubled her up and dropped her to her knees. Pressing her face down to the floor, the man had no difficulty in pulling the young blonde’s arms behind her back while her energies were consumed in gasping for the air that had been so suddenly knocked from her lungs. With duct tape pulled from his pocket, the man quickly taped the young woman’s wrists together behind her back. He stood and looked down upon her as she writhed on the floor at his feet. Besides the tight yellow tank top, the only other thing she was wearing was an equally tight pair of white short shorts that covered nothing below her crotch. She was barefoot. Her long, beautiful, bare legs scissored back and forth as she continued to struggle for needed air.

The unscrupulous young man now scanned the inside of the mansion from his location by the front door. He saw no sign of any other being. Listening intently, he heard no other sounds inside the mansion other than the gasping moans emanating from the young woman lying at his feet. With duct tapes he bound her ankles, completely immobilizing her, and then went on a thorough search of the mansion to satisfy himself that he was, indeed, all alone with his beautiful, young prey.

From a doorway leading back to the front entrance, he paused to take in the sight of the young woman lying bound on her side by the front door in tank top and short shorts. It appeared that she had fully regained air because he noticed now how her chest heaved against the tight fitting tank top with the heavy breathing of someone very much afraid. He walked over to where she lay and looked down upon her. Her fear-struck eyes met his. Words spilled from her mouth. Words such as who are you, what are you doing, let me go, get out of here, etc. The wicked young man merely smiled down at her. He then knelt and undid the tape that had secured her wrists and ankles. He wanted her free, able to fight back if she had it in her. He wanted to play cat and mouse. It would be much more of an enticing turn on for him if the mouse would fight back. He was taking his chances that she was not proficient in martial arts.

The young woman rolled onto her back once freed from her bounds, and slowly crab walked backwards, away from him, not taking her eyes from him as she did so. The fear in her beautiful, blue eyes sent a blood rush to the young man’s penis. He hadn’t fucked a woman in three weeks and was extremely horny.

Once she was what she felt a safe distance from him, she slowly, carefully rose to her feet. Standing, she assumed a crouching position, like an athlete ready to move quickly in any direction. Words such as get out of here again came from her throat, but in a hoarse, fear choked manner. As the man now moved toward her, the young woman glanced furtively around her, searching desperately for a path of escape. When he had closed to within just a few feet, the young woman broke for a doorway that led to the kitchen. She was quick but not quick enough for the stranger who grabbed her by her long, blonde hair and pulled her backward, making her fall back to the floor where she landed on her ass. Shrill screams of protest now filled the spacious mansion and rattled off collector items of artwork and statuary.

The bad man circled her, smiling. The young woman quickly hopped to her feet, again searching for somewhere to escape, but her attacker was now backing her against a wall, and there was no path around him. Crying, she attempted to strike him in the face, but he blocked her arm and instead it was he who landed a blow, hitting her on her cheek with a force that snapped her head sideways. She cried out in pain, and when her head spun back to face him again, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hatred, he saw a small trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

Like a caged animal, the young woman again attempted to strike at her attacker. This time, her assailant let her weak swing hit him on his neck, and he pretended that the blow staggered him. The young woman took advantage of her attacker appearing to be momentarily off balance to rush him and land another blow that could have been deflected had the recipient wanted. But she did not know this, and the immoral young man saw what he wanted—a flicker of hope dance across the expression on the beautiful face of his prey. The young woman actually thought for an instant that she had a fighting chance!