the garden, Chapter I, part I

She had slept well and alone last night, the storm that howled outside all night only served to sedate her mood. Waking up, she tip-toed down the stairs and into the still dark kitchen. She shivered. It felt as though the patio doors had been left wide open. And they were. How careless of me, she thought as she crossed the kitchen floor. Dressed in only her man's shirt and a short robe, her bare feet pitter-pattered on the cold tiles as she moved to close the doors. The drapes and the floor were soaked from the rain. She grumbled to herself once again about her carelessness slamming the door closed. Turning back, she started. One the counter she noticed one red rose with a white envelope. How did she miss it when she walked in! Apprehension gripped her. Curiosity prevailed and she reached for the card:

"...roses are red, violets are blue. Look behind you..."

But she never got the chance. As the strong hand came around her throat, she barely saw the shifting black form flow out from the shadows behind the drapes where she had just stood. Her scream was quelled in her throat as she struggled violently against the attack. To no avail. She was now being dragged outside to the large back yard. Her bare heels dug into the soft sod gouging it open like lashed flesh. Her hands flayed out helplessly groping for something or someone to hold onto but they kept coming up empty. She felt rain drops on her body, on her face, on her bare breasts and she realized that her robe and the shirt was gone from her body. Striped naked she squealed as she was flung face down onto the muddy lawn. Her arms were pulled back. She felt coarse rope burn her wrists. With a vicious yank, her feet were pulled back and she felt the rope bind her ankles. Her back arched as red hot pain screamed through her spine. Her mouth filled with the pungent earthy taste of grass and mud as she tried to take a trembling breath. Her body shook uncontrollably as fear clamped it's cold wet fingers around her heart and bile stung the back of her throat. The rain continued to fall, pelting her without mercy. The ropes cut into her skin, the pain almost unbearable. Mud matted her hair, coated her face & smeared her body. With her failing will, she raised her face to the mud splattered boots inches from her face,

"...why", she whimpered, "wh-o are you? whuh...why a-are you doing this t-to me?"

A sinister almost demonic laugh was her answer as she felt a weight bare down on her forcing the air from her lungs. He was kneeling on her back! He raked his nails down her back. Two angry trails of red streaked across her alabaster back bringing another cry from her.

"Puh-puh-lease", she implored.

He stood up and she heard the jangle of his belt buckle. She twisted her head to look up at him and she finally got a glimpse of her tormentor. His face was hidden behind a hood. His breath steamed out like phantasms in the early morning light. He had his rigid cock in his hand which he stroked lightly as he gazed down on her dirty form at his feet. He prodded her ribs with his dirty boot rather like poking at a cowering dog. He seemed to enjoy having her this way. He grunted. The rain came down in stinging torrents as she cried out again louder this time but even in her anguish she knew no one could hear her. Her nearest neighbor was almost two kilometres away. Slowly he sank to his knees in front of her. His silence scared her even more than if he had spoken. He reached out and lifted her head from the muddied puddle by her hair and locked his eyes with hers. He could not tell if she was crying, the rain obscuring her tears, running tracks down her cheeks. Suddenly and without warning, he tugged her head towards him and shoved her lips over the tip of his cock. She gagged and screamed again, but this time her scream was snuffed by his cock penetrated her mouth and down her throat. Again and again he lunged forward pulling her head into him. But in the midst of the ferocious assault, as this dark strangers hard member raped her mouth and her spittle drooled out to mix with her tears running down her chin, there was something familiar. Something about his taste, his size, his smell, the way his fingers coiled about her hair. Motions brought memories gurgling to the surface just like the bubbles popping at the corners of her mouth.

And the stranger growled, low and deep. And in the timbre of that primal sound it carried the designs of what was going to be an excellent start to a day of sadistic daydreams that were now to be a reality........