The Girl Next Door

He undressed in front of her. She could see his tiny erection, she could see his soft flabby body, and the sight of him disgusted her. "Don't you see how much I love you?" he asked pointing to his erection. "I want you to love me this much" he said as he mounted her, pushing her thighs out of the way. She struggled against him. "I'll make you love me" he whispered as he entered her.

He rocked into her, the sensations that he felt were strange, warm, wet, and tight. He could scarcely get into her, she was so tense. He wanted her to yield underneath him, but she was board stiff. He felt his cock tingle as he moved back and forth, he felt like he was on fire. He dripped a fine layer of drool onto her face as he came. He had never felt anything so good in his life. He suckled her tits, wondered at their hardness. He lowered himself between her legs, deeply inhaling her scent, tasting her. She tried to scoot herself out of his grasp, but she couldn't. She took what he gave her, over and over again. "Oh, I love you so much" he said finally spent. She couldn't reply, the gag was tight in her mouth, she couldn't make a sound.

The dawn was fast approaching; she could see it through a crack in the blinds. She had survived till morning; this fact gave her a renewed strength. Soon, it would be time to open her shop, when she didn't report to work, people would begin looking for her and she would be saved. When he didn't show up for work, they would come looking for him too. She would be rescued. He awoke, yawning. "Don't worry, I've taken vacation this week, we won't be interrupted." Her heart sank. She might have survived the night; she'd never make it a week. "I need for you to make a call. Call your friends and tell them you will be out of town for the week, tell them you're going to Chicago. I want us to have plenty of time together, I want us to have time to fall in love." He loosened her gag, pulled a cellular telephone out of his pocket and dialed the number to her best friend Laura placing the phone to her ear. Her mouth was so dry she could hardly speak, but she did as instructed.

He offered her water, she greedily drank. She began to squirm in her confines; she had to go to the bathroom. "Oh, I bet you need to go, that's the first thing you do in the morning isn't it?" he loosened her ropes. How long had he been watching her? She wondered, how could she have been so oblivious?

He tied her hands tightly behind her back, half carrying her; he took her to the bathroom and lowered her onto the toilet. She couldn't pee; he stood over her watching her. She shot him a pleading look. Grinning and tousling her hair, he turned his back, she began to pee. When she was finished, he spread her thighs, gathering a wad of toilet paper; he wiped her, front to back, just as he had read in one of her women's magazines. "Did I do that right?" he asked. She nodded. He helped her onto her feet, navigating her to a kitchen chair, lowering her onto it, and replacing her bonds. He fed her donuts and coffee, he wiped the crumbs off of her face. She began to cry, she was totally naked, defenseless, her wrists were bruised and sore, her throat hurt from the gag, she was loosing hope. Laura wouldn't check on her for days now, she felt as if her fate were sealed.

"Please loosen the ropes" she pled with him. She was looking for a weakness in him. Maybe she could use his supposed love for her against him. She lowered her head, avoiding his stare.

"Sweetheart, you know I would, but I just can't trust you yet." He said shaking his head no. He untied her, replaced her bonds and carried her to the shower. He bathed her, becoming aroused as he watched the soap roll down her breasts. He carefully dried her and applied lotion to her skin, just as he had watched her do. He had to keep her routine if he wanted to prove how much he loved her. He wrapped her in a towel and lowered her onto the bed. "I have a present for you my love" he said smiling as he presented a box. He lifted the lid and pulled out a red satin negligee. He sat her up; restraining one hand he raised the other one slipping the gown on. When he was satisfied with it, he replaced her bonds, tying her tightly. He ran a comb through her hair, lovingly touching the golden strands. He gathered her hair up into a bun, and pinned it in place. "I always thought your hair would look best like this," he said.

"I'm going to make love to you now" he said as he laid her back on the bed, tying her down to the bed frame. "Are you beginning to see how much you need me?" he asked as he slid his fingers into her pussy and began to stroke her. "You're like a little baby now, I have to bathe you and feed you. You must be able to see how much I love you, not every man would care for his woman as lovingly as I do you." He lowered his pants down around his hips, he forced his way into her, and he was merciless, ramming himself into her over and over again. She cried out in pain, he thought it was the cry of passion, she was beginning to fall for him, he just knew it, soon she would be his, all his. With a moan he came, burying himself deep inside of her.

When he was through, he lowered her gown and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. She could feel his come as it dried on her, the thought of it made her stomach go into knots, and she fought off waves of nausea. He tried to force her to eat, she refused. Slapping her, he became angry. He forced her down on the bed, taking her again. She made not a sound, this also made him angry. In a rage he repositioned her onto her belly, resting her hips up on pillows. "You're a dirty little whore, I bet you'll like this" he said. He took a vibrator out of the bag he had snuck into her house and turned it on. He spread her wide and rammed it into her up to its hub. She cried out in pain. "Yeah that's what I thought you dirty, dirty, whore. My cock isn't enough for you is it?" he shouted as he rammed the whole length of the vibrator up into her. The tears flowed down her cheeks, gagging she vomited on the bed. He stopped, noticing blood on the device. He slapped her hard against her face. "I only do this because I love you, I love you and you make me do these things to you. Quit crying, you deserved that, dirty whore. You made me do that to you, do you think I like hurting you?" He walked out of the room, leaving her tied on her belly.

Sometime later, he stood over her, awakening her. "Did you learn your lesson?" he asked as he loosened her ties. She shook her head yes. He helped her up into a sitting position, holding her head against his chest he rocked her gently, brushing the dried vomit off her face. He placed her into a tub full of hot soapy water and gently cleansed her. "You've got to stop being bad like that and I won't hurt you anymore." He instructed as he washed her hair. He pulled her out of the tub when he felt she was sufficiently clean and tied her to a towel bar as he went to change the bed sheets. She shivered, dripping wet, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Her hair hung dully outlining her face, there were dark rings under her eyes from lack of sleep, bruises highlighted her cheeks, and her upper lip was swollen due to the force of his blow. She pulled against the ropes in vain, the ropes, wet, tightened. After he had made the bed, he tended to her, drying her, brushing her hair, inspecting the damage he had inflicted. "You know I love you" he said as he put her hair up again. "Do you love me?" he asked. She jerked her face away. "In time you will." He said as he guided her to the kitchen tying her to a chair. He lit the candles and poured her some wine. He filled her plate with chicken and pasta, untying a hand he allowed her to feed herself.

"Isn't this nice of me to make you your favorite meal?" he asked. Her mind was racing; she had to find a way to get out. She shook her head yes, afraid to speak. After dinner, he took her into the living room and allowed her to watch TV, tied to the frame of the couch, she sat on the floor at his feet, and he stroked her hair. She wanted to die, she wanted him to die. "Do you see how nice it could be between us?" he asked. She was beginning to discover his weakness; she nodded resting her head on his knee. He was surprised by her action, he was making progress, her resolve was weakening, and she was becoming his.

That night when he decided she had had enough TV, he put her to bed. She begged him to loosen one hand, just for a minute. They had made progress, what was the harm he thought to him self untying her confines. She slid up her nightgown and spread her legs, inviting him in. "Oh, yes!" he exclaimed dropping his pants and eagerly taking her. She faked excitement, she faked the whole thing, whispering to him, telling him how good he was, how big his cock was, she cried out in fake orgasm. He didn't know the difference; he was too involved in his own pleasure. When they were done, he tied her down tightly, crawling beside her, he fell asleep.

The next morning, the bathroom ritual continued, he helped her to pee, he bathed her, and he put her hair up and dressed her. "I appreciate how good you are to me" she said, avoiding his glance. His heart was singing, he was excited; she was beginning to love him. He smiled proudly. When he tied her, he didn't tie her as tightly now. She began to feel hope again. She did nothing to invoke his rage, when he wanted sex, she allowed it. When he decided it was time to eat, she ate. She was his toy; she complied with his every whim. That night, when he tied her to the bed, she whispered to him "I'm falling in love with you." He kissed her ramming his tongue deep into her mouth. Her flesh crawled with disgust, but at least this charade was keeping her alive, for the moment.

He allowed her to go for periods of time untied now, she couldn't move about freely, but she was untied. At dinner, he got down on one knee, asking her to marry him, she agreed, proclaiming love and adoration to him. He didn't see that she had taken the carving knife from the kitchen table. She hid it in the folds of her satin gown, allowing him to lead her into the bedroom.

That night, she allowed him to enter her, he plunged into her, she was unrestrained. She pushed against him in fake orgasm, she slid her hand under the pillow, pulling out a knife, he didn't see her. She rammed the knife into his back, causing him to cry out in agony. Quickly she pushed him off of her, and ran for the door, hobbling, he pursued her. He felt the agony of his wound; he felt the agony of her betrayal.

Grabbing at her gown, he caught her. If he couldn't have her, no one would. His mother was right, women were all dirty whores, this one deserved to die. She kicked wildly at him, the nightgown ripped in his grasp freeing her. She fumbled with the locks on the door, her fingers clumsily turning them. He was on her now; he forced her onto the floor, taking her breath with his weight. She struggled beneath him, she clawed at him, and she sank her teeth into the flesh of his neck, causing him to loosen his grip. "You bitch" he cried out in pain as he groped at her trying to reclaim her. She slid out of the night gown, in an act of despair she flung herself out of the living room window. She cried out in agony as the glass ripped at her flesh, yielding beneath her weight. She fell to the ground.

Ignoring the pain she scrambled to her feet, she could hear him crying after her "You whore, you dirty little whore!" Her wounds slowed her progress, fortunately, so did his. She ran up the porch steps to her neighbor's house across the street, screaming wildly as she pounded on the door. She saw the lights turn on, saw the glow of lights from other houses as they too were awakened by the noise. The door to the house opened and she ran inside almost tearing it from its hinges. The neighbor called the police, moments later she could hear the song of sirens as they grew closer and closer. She heard the shouts of the officers, she heard him shouting, proclaiming that they were in love and had just had a little lover's quarrel.

Medical Personnel attended her wounds, applying layer after layer of dressings. He was taken into custody; they led him past her and to the squad car. She was lying on an ambulance cot; they were preparing to place her into the back of the ambulance. "You whore, you dirty whore, I loved you!" he cried out, struggling against the officers. She cried tears of relief, she was safe now.

After the trial, after the endless questions and interrogations, testimony after testimony, he was convicted. He was sentenced to life in a state mental institution; the judge didn't feel he was incompetent to stand trial, so he did. When it was all over, she returned to the small town, packed her belongings, closed her store, and returned to the ambiguity of the big city. At night, she could still hear his footsteps as they crept across her kitchen floor, she could hear him cry out "You whore, you dirty, dirty, whore." She still felt his touch, she still heard him whispering "I did this because I love you."