of the woman. He needed to sleep, to process her spent energies, to gather his strength. First, though, he needed to complete the female's securements.
Rising from her limp, exhausted form, he took hold of her knees and pulled her legs straight. She gave out another low moan as he manipulated her body. The roll of heavy cord was still on the bed and he cut another long piece. He crossed her ankles and tied them together, wrapping them several times horizontally and vertically with one end of the cord. He took the other end and, bending her knees, affixed it to the tie that imprisoned her wrists behind her.
He leaned back and appreciated the picture of the confined woman. Something inside him, some part of his human brain, was enraptured by the sight of her helplessness, her subservience to his control. The word ‘hogtied’ came to him, a word placed there by her mind, a vision of some picture she had seen or some description she had read. She had kept it there, at the upper levels of her mind, not buried deep in her subconscious, a level he hadn't reached yet. He wondered why.
The dark haired man pulled the unhappy woman's body to its side so her back was towards him. He took one more length of rope and, after securing it to the woman's bound hands, tied the other end to his wrist. If she struggled too much, or managed to slip off the bed, he would know right away and awaken. He laid down beside her, and fell immediately asleep.
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CHAPTER FOUR
While her assailant slept peacefully behind her, Kelly agonized over her fate. It had taken her a while to recover from the torpor that had seized her following the intense orgasms the man had inflicted on her, but now she was awake and alert. She could actually see her naked body, arched and helpless, in the mirror across from her bed. She could gaze into her own terrified eyes, the wide, silvery tape obscuring her mouth, see her exposed breasts, her naked thighs and the patch of furry hair that covered the object of the man's lusts. Having the man behind her was actually more perturbing to her than if he had turned her to face him. She wanted to study him, to try and decipher what his plan was for her. She wanted to know when he awoke so she could prepare herself mentally for his next assault. Having to stare at her bare breasts and belly so open and exposed to the now bright room was more discomforting than if she had been turned towards him, away from her reflected image.
She tested her bonds frantically when she first heard the man's evenly spaced, deep breaths signaling his loss of consciousness. She realized quickly, to her dismay, that the efficiency with which he had tied her barred any slippage of the bindings that would permit her to ease one of her wrists free of the cords. When she realized the hopelessness of her yearning for freedom, she began to cry in self pity. After a short while, though, her rational self took over. She was a scientist, a weigher of facts, an expert in logic and reasoning. She realized she would have to use all of her mental skills to develop some strategy to deal with her frightful and terrorizing new reality.
First, she had to outline what she knew about the man, what she could deduce from her observations. That he was real was indisputable. She was way past imagining she was still in a dream. His silence was disturbing, but it might very well be indicative of the fact he was not mentally deranged. If he were, he would likely have ranted and raved while he assaulted her. He had not shown any of the typical quirks or idiosyncrasies of the psychotic. He had acted coolly and efficiently and with definite purpose. He had not taken the opportunity to vent rage on her when she made her desperate fight to escape. So, to use the vernacular, he was probably not crazy.
She had noticed several other things. His piercing gaze was abnormal. It was as if he were seeing a woman for the first time. He had used her expertly, but
Rising from her limp, exhausted form, he took hold of her knees and pulled her legs straight. She gave out another low moan as he manipulated her body. The roll of heavy cord was still on the bed and he cut another long piece. He crossed her ankles and tied them together, wrapping them several times horizontally and vertically with one end of the cord. He took the other end and, bending her knees, affixed it to the tie that imprisoned her wrists behind her.
He leaned back and appreciated the picture of the confined woman. Something inside him, some part of his human brain, was enraptured by the sight of her helplessness, her subservience to his control. The word ‘hogtied’ came to him, a word placed there by her mind, a vision of some picture she had seen or some description she had read. She had kept it there, at the upper levels of her mind, not buried deep in her subconscious, a level he hadn't reached yet. He wondered why.
The dark haired man pulled the unhappy woman's body to its side so her back was towards him. He took one more length of rope and, after securing it to the woman's bound hands, tied the other end to his wrist. If she struggled too much, or managed to slip off the bed, he would know right away and awaken. He laid down beside her, and fell immediately asleep.
[Back to Table of Contents]
CHAPTER FOUR
While her assailant slept peacefully behind her, Kelly agonized over her fate. It had taken her a while to recover from the torpor that had seized her following the intense orgasms the man had inflicted on her, but now she was awake and alert. She could actually see her naked body, arched and helpless, in the mirror across from her bed. She could gaze into her own terrified eyes, the wide, silvery tape obscuring her mouth, see her exposed breasts, her naked thighs and the patch of furry hair that covered the object of the man's lusts. Having the man behind her was actually more perturbing to her than if he had turned her to face him. She wanted to study him, to try and decipher what his plan was for her. She wanted to know when he awoke so she could prepare herself mentally for his next assault. Having to stare at her bare breasts and belly so open and exposed to the now bright room was more discomforting than if she had been turned towards him, away from her reflected image.
She tested her bonds frantically when she first heard the man's evenly spaced, deep breaths signaling his loss of consciousness. She realized quickly, to her dismay, that the efficiency with which he had tied her barred any slippage of the bindings that would permit her to ease one of her wrists free of the cords. When she realized the hopelessness of her yearning for freedom, she began to cry in self pity. After a short while, though, her rational self took over. She was a scientist, a weigher of facts, an expert in logic and reasoning. She realized she would have to use all of her mental skills to develop some strategy to deal with her frightful and terrorizing new reality.
First, she had to outline what she knew about the man, what she could deduce from her observations. That he was real was indisputable. She was way past imagining she was still in a dream. His silence was disturbing, but it might very well be indicative of the fact he was not mentally deranged. If he were, he would likely have ranted and raved while he assaulted her. He had not shown any of the typical quirks or idiosyncrasies of the psychotic. He had acted coolly and efficiently and with definite purpose. He had not taken the opportunity to vent rage on her when she made her desperate fight to escape. So, to use the vernacular, he was probably not crazy.
She had noticed several other things. His piercing gaze was abnormal. It was as if he were seeing a woman for the first time. He had used her expertly, but
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