Clack, clack, clack went her heels on the concrete. They were followed by an echo, almost, of larger, heavier footsteps behind her.
She walked faster, increasing the staccato effect, and her breathing was more urgent. Still the echo persisted. She stopped and turned, nobody there. On she walked, almost ran, her breath was faster almost excited. Turning a corner into the street by the railway she looked and, to her shock, nearly all the street lights were out. Faster, teetering on her heels, she ran down the street of shadows and unseen monsters.
All the time she ran she knew she could hear the continuing steps behind her, closer maybe. Stopping again, she turned and again there was nothing. Catching her breath she moved off quickly again.
There was definitely someone there, she knew that. If only she could get to the end of this street, there was only a couple of hundred yards after that. Something hit her from behind, knocked her off balance and she fell through the bushes onto the railway embankment. Gasping for breath, she looked up. He was big, well over six feet and dressed entirely in black, including the ski mask.
Her mouth opened but before she could scream a gloved hand pressed on her mouth. She swung her foot upwards but he was quick enough to avoid the ball busting kick. His weight descended upon her and she was pinned to the ground.
A flash. A light? No, a switchblade caught by one of the few street lights. She felt as well as heard the material on her blouse rip. Then her bra was gone and she felt cold. The knife traced a path around her breasts and over the hardening nipples.
“Now little lady, if we are quiet and don’t struggle, you could leave here with those nice big tits untouched. On the other hand they could end up badly scarred.”
Eyes wide open, she waited and knew the knife was cutting through the top of her skirt and down. She felt the cold steel on her thigh.
His knife hand appeared, empty, and he put it to his mouth to help remove his glove. The hand was large but not the calloused hand of a manual worker, more the soft hand of an office worker. The bare hand was soon on her panties and tugging them off her. She tried to kick again and failed. Her reward was his bare hand across her face.
“You really want those titties to be scarred?” She shook her head.
She felt his hand on her bare mound, feeling, stroking her undefended womanhood.
A finger entered her and she bucked and twisted but it persisted. He finger fucked her slowly for a moment until her juices, damn them, began to flow.
He sat up on her legs and undid his trousers. Her mouth was free but she did not scream. Fuck! It was big, long and thick. He sneered and leaned over to maul her breasts. Squeezing her nipples, he almost pulled them off, he stretched them so far.
Forcing his legs between hers, he spread her wide. Her eyes looked at him, pleading. He smiled and pushed himself into her. His hand clamped her mouth again, in case. Forcing himself on her, he sank all the way into her and began to fuck her hard and deep. Her body twisted and bucked but his weight kept her pinned down.
He continued pumping deep into her and her body betrayed her. Instead of forcing him off she started to buck and thrust in time. Thrusting up as her invader pushed deep into her, his large cock hurting her in a way she wanted to be hurt. Soon he was pounding faster and faster, closer to his release. Suddenly her legs were free and she wrapped them around him pulling herself onto him. Her mouth was clear.
“Fuck me you bastard, fuck me hard, hurt me, oh fucking hurt me.”
They were as one now, fucking and thrusting, breath coming faster. He grunted, she gasped, they collapsed.
“Mmmmm thank you Master. You certainly know how to drive your slave.”
He laughed as he removed the ski mask.
She smiled as she saw his white collar on his black vestments.
She felt the switchblade caress her breast and saw him lean forward to taste her, his tongue tracing the long fine line that was now oozing a little blood.
It crossed her mind she should have joined his Church sooner.