Riders On The Storm

DISCLAIMER:

The following features elements of Non Con, violence and gore. If these go against your sensibilities I understand. But I'm hoping you'll stick with it.

"Riders on the storm,
Riders on the storm,
Into this house, we're born
Into this world, we're thrown..."

The wipers slapped time to the rhythm of the song as fat droplets pelted the windshield. It had been raining steadily the past few hours, but had only just reached the heights of what was looking to become a full fledged tempest.

The parking lot of Sharkey's was sparse for a Saturday night, most of the regular patrons having left earlier. My cruiser sat directly next to one of the few remaining vehicles; a classic 1992 Dodge Viper, in pristine condition by the looks of it.

The owner I'd observed entering the bar hours earlier stumbled out the door. Her formerly pristine red dress was now rumpled, wet, and clinging to her voluptuous curves as she staggered precariously on spiked heels, weaving side to side like a leaf in the breeze. At one point her ankle twisted and I was sure she would fall, but somehow she managed to steady herself.

I flashed my Cherry Tops just as she was fumbling with the keys to the car, then rolled down my window. "Excuse me, ma'am. But I sincerely hope you aren't planning on driving in that condition."

Startled, she almost fell again, grabbing the roof for balance. Even in the dark her eyes looked bloodshot as she turned and bent to squint at me. "Oh! Well hello there, hossifer. Not very nice of you, scaring me like that!"

"Yes, ma'am, sorry about that, truly. But I'm afraid I can't let you leave like that."

The woman looked incredulous. And stunning. Even with her hair now plastered to her head and mascara running down her cheeks. "I don't unnerstand. Am I under arrest, hossifer?"

"No, ma'am. Not unless you try driving away. Now please, get in the car." With a flick of the switch, I popped the lock on the passenger side and gave her my most assuring smile.

Still, she looked wary. But as the wind howled and the rain started to blow sideways, she realized the wisdom of at least getting out of the elements for the moment. With a resigned sigh, she opened the door and slipped inside. I quickly rolled the window back up from the button on my side.

"Thanks, I guess," she sputtered. "But...hic...now what? I mean, you gonna take me in? Or just sit here all night til I sober up? Or what?"

"Actually, what I should do is call you a cab. Or would you prefer calling an Uber?"

The woman looked dumbfounded. "Da fuck is an Uber?"

"Nevermind," I chuckled. "Tell you what, let's make this simple. I'm technically not supposed to do this, but my shift is just about over anyway. Why don't you just tell me where you live and I can drive you home?"

Again the woman looked blank. "Where I... live?"

"Yes. You know, your address?"

"I... I don't... remember."

"That's okay. I'm sure it must be on your driver's license."

"My drivers license. Riiight. Um, here's the thing. I sorta... misplaced my purse. Somewhere. I'm not shhure what happened. I know I had it when I went inside, but... but..."

Her eyes weren't just bloodshot. They were glazed over, barely open. Her head kept rocking as if she were on the verge of nodding off.

"Ma'am, I have to ask; are you currently under the influence of something other than alcohol? I'm not asking as a police officer. I'm merely concerned about your well-being at the moment."

"Something other than...? No. No, I'd never..."

"Think ma'am, did someone perhaps..."

"Stop calling me 'ma'am! Jeshus, you're making me feel like an old lady!"

Her slurring was getting worse. "I'm sorry. What should I call you? Do you remember your name?"

"My name? Yesh. It's...it's... Randi."

"Okay then. Randi. Now try to remember. Did you perhaps leave your drink unattended for a moment? Or did you maybe eat something, something somebody offered you? Or..."

Her eyes went suddenly wide. "The bartender. Brought me a drink I didn't order. Told me some guy bought it for me. But when he tried to point him out, the guy was gone. I... I drank it anyway. Guess I shouldn't have, huh?"

"No, ma...um, Randi. Definitely not. Maybe I should take you to the hospital, have a doctor..."

"No!" she cried. "Please, no hoshpital. I'll be fine, I just...just...:

Her eyes closed and she slumped back in the seat. Reaching over, I checked her breathing, then her pulse. Both were slow, but steady.

Glancing around the parking lot, there was no one to be seen. The bar was closed, the lights out. Which was for the best. A cop driving off with an unconscious woman in the front seat would draw the wrong kind of attention if observed. It wasn't like the old days. No one trusted us anymore. There would be questions, inquires. Neither of which I wanted.

After one last look around, I started the engine and pulled out of the lot.

"Where... where am I?"

Randi had remained unconscious during the ride, but had woken up as we'd arrived and I was attempting to lift her from the car.

"My place. Can you walk? It would make this easier."

"I think so." Wrapping her arm around my shoulder, she tried pulling herself up. It wasn't easy, but we managed to get her on her feet. The rain had let up only slightly, and the driveway was spotted with puddles, making our path treacherous.

The rain was merciless as we made our way up the walk to the front stoop. We took the stairs slowly, one at a time. At the top of the final one her foot again twisted, and her heel fell off into the hedges. I made a mental note to come back for it later; couldn't let things like that lay around.

Randi fell to her knees just after I closed and bolted the door, the two of us soaked and dripping all over the hardwood floor.

"I'm shhhory," she slurred, drool running from her lips. "I dunno whash wrong wif me, I feel so..."

I managed to help her into a nearby chair. "You were given rohypnol. It's a tranquilizer. Illegal here in the U.S. Commonly used as a date rape drug. You're gonna drop in and out of consciousness, and feel very weak fine."

"That... that fucking bartender..."

"Yeah. Don't you worry about him right now. I'll be talking to him very soon, I promise."

"I feel... oh, God, I'm gonna..."

I grabbed a nearby trash can just in time. Randi retched loudly as I held her rain soaked hair back, preparing myself in case she began to choke. The smell was strong and unpleasant, but I had dealt with this kind of thing before, enough that it no longer bothered me.

When I was sure she'd finished, I carefully set the can aside. "Feeling better?"

Her glazed, watery eyes could barely focus on me. "Yes. No. I don't know. I'm so sorry, um... you never told me your name?"

"Daniel. But my friends call me Danny."

"Danny." Her smile was captivating, despite the dribblets of drool and puke running from her lips. "You've been so kind, so caring. Thank you. I hate to trouble you more, but..." Her well defined cheeks blushed with shame. "...I really, like REALLY, need to pee."

"Of course."

Once up from the chair, her height dwarfed me by at least two inches, despite her lack of heels, the second shoe having come off inside the foyer.

I was also impressed with her build. She had curves in all the right places, of course, and her body appeared typically ladylike. And yet I could feel solid muscles hiding beneath her deceptively soft, feminine surface.

Still, those long legs were weak beneath her, and we barely made it to the bathroom before she slipped from my grasp, tumbling to the floor.

She landed on her deliciously plump ass, her sopping wet dress riding up as her legs splayed open. I wasn't the least bit surprised that she wore no panties. Women like this rarely did.

Before I could help her up to the toilet, her bladder let loose. The stream was dark and cloudy, a sure sign of dehydration. The smell of piss filled the tiny room. "Oh god," she groaned, "oh god oh god I'm so sorry oh fuck I can't stop it oh god..."

I had to step back to keep it from getting on my shoes as the yellow puddle spread across the formerly clean white tile floor.

Withdrawing the short distance to my linen closet, I retrieved some towels. By the time I'd returned to the bathroom, Randi had passed out again, her back slumped against the tub, head lolling listless to one side, legs wide, her pussy glistening with wetness.

I couldn't help but stare for a few moments. If she wasn't in such a drunken, drugged, disheveled state, she'd be drop dead gorgeous, a right pistol in the sack I was sure.

I shunted those thoughts aside for the moment to focus on the task at hand; cleaning up the mess. I was glad she was unconscious, it would make this easier.

I put a towel down to soak up most of the piss before reaching down and lifting her into the tub. Her dress came off easily enough; a zipper down the back. And of course she wore no bra beneath it either.

Her breasts were beautiful, large and firm and, by the look, completely natural. Which surprised me; I'd taken her for the plastic surgery type.

I left her to lay there while I cleaned up the floor, stuffing the soiled towels, along with her dress, into a plastic garbage bag. The bathroom would need a complete bleaching of course, but I'd do that later. After.

Turning on the shower, I used the detachable head to rinse her off, head to toe. With a washcloth, I gently wiped away the mascara and ruby red lipstick smeared across her face, as well as the last traces of vomit from her chin.

Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as I proceeded to wash her body, moving from broad shoulders to those magnificent breasts, then down along her firm belly to her pubic mound.

A jagged scar ran across her lower abdomen, partly concealed by her dark tuft of pubic hair. I grimaced as my fingers ran through it. I preferred my women shaved and waxed clean down there. I considered grabbing my razor and taking care of it myself, but it would just be one more mess to clean up later. Hair tended to get everywhere, and I couldn't risk any being left behind.

So instead I continued to scrub her, but as my hand moved lower, between her legs, they suddenly clenched tight and she sat up with a start. "Please! No! Not... there. I don't want you to..."

"Relax, Randi," I again offered my most agreeable, friendly smile. "I'm just trying to clean you up. You've made quite the mess of yourself, my dear. I just want to... help."

Again she fought me, surprisingly strong for her semi conscious state, as I tried to part her legs enough to access her. "No, please, don't..."

I didn't have time for this. She was mostly clean already; the hot water would rinse away the last of it I supposed.

Dropping the washcloth into the bag, I rinsed her off with the showerhead. By the time I finished that, she appeared unconscious again.

I dried her off with fresh towels, then left her for the moment. It was time to prepare.

Getting Randi on the bed proved more difficult than anticipated. Her still unconscious form was deadweight. While it was her almost Amazonian build that had drawn my attention to her, I made a mental note to stick to more petite targets in the future.

Securing her to the bedposts was easier. Cuffs attached to eye bolts screwed into each of the four solid oak bed posts insured she would barely be able to squirm, let alone resist. She lay supine, arms extended above her head, legs open wide, as if displayed on a St. Andrews cross.

I stood at the foot of the bed, drinking her in. Now cleansed of messy makeup, her face had a serene, natural beauty to it. Her still damp hair tumbled aimlessly down around her shoulders. Her skin was smooth, flawless except for that scar. I knew a stab wound when I saw one, and wondered how she'd gotten it. Maybe I'd ask her when she came around.

And I would certainly wait for that before beginning. As much as that luscious body called to me, I preferred my guests awake and aware before I started in on them. Their cries and whimpers made it so much more appealing, after all.

Still, I could prepare myself while I waited. Stripping off my clothes, my cock was already stirring in anticipation. I ran my fingers over my pubic region, waxed smooth and maintained regularly. There wasn't a single stray hair or razor bump to be found. I took my throbbing shaft in hand and coaxed it to its fullest length as I gazed at her sleeping form, imagining where I'd begin.

I planned on using her. Every part, every hole. She would object of course; struggle, try and break free. All that would get her was some chafed wrists and ankles. She could scream all she wanted, I wouldn't gag her. My cabin was secluded, miles away from the nearest neighbors. Nothing would hinder me from taking my pleasure from her.

I had no plans to hurt her. That's why I used restraints; so they couldn't struggle, fight back, force me to hurt them. No, unlike the monsters society would lump me in with, I had no ill will towards my chosen, no animosity, no hate.

I loved them. Plain and simple. And it was that love that drove me, that compelled me.

I would begin tenderly, gently, like a good lover should. Soft, warm kisses on her slender neck. My hands, strong but uncalloused, caressing that supple olive skin as she squirmed in reluctant pleasure beneath me.

I would watch the anger in her eyes turn to desire as I suckled at her dark nipples, feeling them swell between my lips. Her hips would bump and grind in anticipation as I kissed my way lower, longing for me to taste her, to bring her to new erotic heights with mouth and tongue that would change her cries of protest to ones of ecstasy.

Then, only then, would I give her what she truly wanted. My manhood. My cock dripped precum at the thought of plunging within her tight, moist depths.

She would love me. They all loved me when it was over.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the cabin door. "Danny? It's me! Open the door for fucks sake!"

"Goddamn it." Throwing on a robe, I exited the bedroom.

Pulling back the deadbolt, I opened the door. "Jesus, Hank. What the hell were you thinking, pounding away like that? You were supposed to call first, dumbass!"

"I tried, you fuckwit. But you know it's next to impossible to get a signal out here."

I relented my anger somewhat. "Fair enough. Get in already, and take your shoes off. I don't need you tracking in mud."

Hank glared angrily but did as he was told. "You didn't start without me, did'ja?"

"No, of course not. She's all prepped though, ready to go. But first; tell me you didn't forget her purse."

"Don't worry, cuz. It's in the truck."

"And her phone?"

"Threw it in the river as I crossed the bridge."

"You're sure it hit the water?"

"Of course I'm sure! Jesus, what do you take me for, an idiot? We've done this a million times, I've never messed it up before!"

Hank did love to exaggerate. The truth was, while this was my thirteenth time doing this, Hank had only helped out on the last three. But he was right, he'd played his part to the letter each time, and covered his tracks well.

"You're right. Sorry. Now get inside. It's late, and I'd like to get her out of here before dawn."

After kicking off his muddy boots, he followed me to the bedroom. A lascivious grin broke wide on his narrow, stubbled face when he saw her. "Fucking hell! Ain't she a stunner? Jesus, those knockers! Can't wait to titty fuck the shit outta those!"

"Wait your turn, asshole," I grumbled. "You know the drill. I go first. You can have her when I'm finished."

"I know, I know. So get started already. Like ya said, time's a'wastin'!"

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to our guest. She was stirring slightly. Good.

"Randi? Randi, it's Danny. Can you hear me?"

Her eyes fluttered. "Who? What? Where am... why am I...?"

She pulled against the chains, but without much effort. The drugs still had her weak, disoriented.

"Randi, just listen. Don't struggle. You'll only hurt yourself. And I have no wish for that."

I moved to the side of the bed, standing over her. Her eyes opened fully, and I saw the fear in them as the truth of the situation dawned on her.

"No." Her voice was a harsh whisper.

"Oh, yes," I assured her. "But please, don't be frightened. I'm not going to hurt you, my dear. I just want to show you how much I love you."

A single tear rolled from her eye. "Please, I'm begging you. Don't do this."

I gave her my charming smile, the one I knew would win her over. "It's okay, Randi. I love you. I have since I first saw you. Just trust me, and I will show you pleasures you've only dreamed of."

With that, I threw off my robe, revealing to her my full, naked glory.

Her eyes went wide. And then her face changed. The fear and anxiety was replaced by an almost mirthful grin. "Seriously? Am I supposed to be impressed? Because sweetie, if that's all you got, I doubt I'll see much pleasure from it."

"What?" I was stunned. Certainly the drugs couldn't have worn off by now, and even if they had, it should mean she'd only be more terrified. And yet there she was, almost laughing, her formerly glazed eyes now bright with mischief and mocking humor.

Hank looked as confused as I felt. "Danny? What the fuck...?"

"Shut up, Hank!" I turned back to Randi. "Listen, you ungrateful cunt! I said I didn't want to hurt you. But I will if you make me."

Now she did laugh. A loud, hearty one. "Hurt me? What? With THAT thing? Oh, honey, you ain't hurting anyone with that, trust me."

My rage, which had been slowly boiling, erupted like a hot spring. "You fucking BITCH! I'll show you!"

Lifting my clenched fist high, I swung with all my might.

With lighting speed her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me mid-swing.

Her hand. Her UNCUFFED hand.

"What??? How...???"

Randi sat up from the bed, her grip a vise on my wrist, her other hand now free as well and at my neck.

Her dark eyes locked onto mine. I watched in fascinated horror as her pupils dilated and the whites turned blood red. Her lips twisted upwards in a sly, terrifying grin, displaying fangs I was positive were not there before. "Surprise, motherfucker."

With unnatural speed, she jerked my arm towards the bedpost. The handcuff that had been holding her secure just moments ago clamped around my wrist. Then she was up, off the bed, lifting me by the throat and slamming me against the wall with shocking force.

I slumped to the floor beside the bed, stunned and dazed, my arm dangling from the bedpost.

I shook my head to clear my vision, only to find Randi crouched in front of me, those soulless eyes locked into mine. "Bet ya didn't see this coming, did you, Danny Boy?"

From behind, Hank took a step towards her. That was as far as he got. Randi whirled and in a blink fell on him, tackling him to the floor. She straddled her nude body over him, pinning his arms down. Hank struggled beneath her, bucking his hips, trying to throw her off, to no avail.

Randi glared down at him. "And YOU, you sick fuck. It was my night off; no men to seduce, no souls to steal. And then you just had to go and spike my drink. Big mistake, Hank. Huge."

"Fuck you, cunt!" Hank managed to lift his head and launched a wad of phlegm that struck Randi on the cheek.

She didn't even flinch. "Tsk tsk. So rude. But that's okay, not the first time."

Leaning in, she whispered in his ear. "But it will be the last time you call anyone that."

Her mouth found his. Hank relaxed as she sucked at his lower lip for a moment. I watched, helpless and horrified, as a long, forked tongue extended its way into Hank's mouth. His struggles began anew as Randi let go of his arms, grabbed his head, and plunged her lips to his.