An OLD SCHOOL TYLER Story.....Continued From Here
The shower mingled with her tears as a torrent of warm water coursed over her. "Better clean yourself all over," he warned from the stall doorway. "Or I will."
She looked up, getting her first sight of her abductor and rapist. To her shuddering horror, she knew him. She recognized him as a customer and a friendly library patron. They had even spoke a few times. He was amusing and pleasant. He was also her very own fucker.
Kate curled up in a bound fetal position on the floor of the shower stall...letting the water seep into her most private crevices...slowly at first, but soon with more desperation as the water got cooler, then hotter, over the minutes. Finally, she tested her bonds but they did not give. So she suffered the pain as she twisted, raised her head, and opened her legs. Anything to clean off the matted stench there.
Soon he reached in, and she was gone again.
She woke up, dressed and ready for the day. Her foot touched the top stair, slightly tottering in her own pair of light pink four-inch high-heels. Her own flesh-colored, thigh-high lace top stockings caressed her legs. A lovely-feeling acetate spandex knit minidress caressed her. It was pale, with a floral pattern, a u-neckline, and a black lace-up bodice which gathered, lifted, and thrust out her bulbous orbs.
Her wrists were crossed behind her and tied. Her elbows were tied together, thrusting her proud chest out even more. A bright pink pool flotation marker was wedged sideways in her mouth—opening her jaw to its widest aperture—and tied with its yellow rope around her head.
Kate moaned, drooling, her eyes closing, her head going back, her torso bending forward—balancing on one foot as he held her at the top of the stairs by her right upper arm and tit.
"Come on now," he said, pulling at her arm and breast through the dress. "One step at a time, baby." Stair by stair he brought the cringing, assaulted girl down until she stood, blinking, by the front door, staring into the sun-lit living room.
To her surprise she could see neighborhood kids playing on the street and in their yards across the way through the room's three front windows above the living room couch. She could hear their cries of anger, daring, and joy. To her astonishment, he merely beamed at her and untied her elbows. Her shoulders jerked forward, her breasts sagging.
Then, to her complete and utter shock, he unknotted the gag. It was pulled from her mouth with teeth scraping effort, but then it was thudding on the floor.
"There," he said affably. "Better?"
She could only stare at him in wide-eyed confusion and fear.
"You can scream now, you know," he told her with a smile, nodding his head at the windows. "Go ahead. Tell them what happened. Tell them what I did. Go on." He nodded again.
Kate stared at him, still cringing somewhat, her eyes jerking toward the front door just inches away, and the windows, just a few feet to the side. "Speak now," he warned, "or forever hold my piece."
She licked her blood-fused pink-red lips. Then, suddenly her head went up, her shoulders went back and her mouth opened, sucking in a chest-full of air for an aria of help.
The nerf softball came out of nowhere. More accurately it came swinging up from his side to smash down between her up-raised teeth, deep into her up-turned mouth, sealed there by his slapping, clapping hand.
The scream was cut off as if by a CD stop button. It turned into a surprised muffled shriek and then a squeal as he suddenly jammed up between her arms and then fell. She crashed to the couch on her back, on top of him, as his legs wrapped around hers and his other hand found her nose.
He squeezed it shut.
TO BE CONTINUED