Unknown Caller Ch. 03

Trish poured herself another cup of coffee and opened her door to get her Sunday paper. "Damn, not again," Trish hissed. This was the second week in a row her paper was not delivered, or was taken by someone. She decided enough was enough, she was going to call the paper on Monday and find out what was going on!

As Trish finished her coffee, her mind was recalling the events of the previous evening with John. He was incredibly sexy, gentle, passionate, and had pleasured her body in ways she had not imagined. Her hand slipped beneath her robe as she started to rub her breast. The soft material of her robe fell open; she set down her coffee and began to knead her tits with both hands. She squeezed them as her thumbnails traced across her nipples, causing them to quickly become erect. Her nipples, now stiff nubs, ached to be fondled. Taking both nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, she started twisting and pulling them. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she played with her nipples until they were throbbing.

Trish felt a twinge between her legs; she knew at this point, she was quite wet. Spreading her legs, she eased closer to the edge of the chair. With one hand she started rubbing the wetness between her legs. Her fingers gliding between her swelling lips, teasing herself, yet at the same time heightening her arousal. Her other hand left her breast to rub her clit. Her middle finger brushed back and forth across her pleasure nub, as two of the fingers on her other hand slid up inside her. Trish could not stop thinking about John and how it felt to have him inside her. His cock was thick and fit tightly within her walls, filling her completely. Her body shivered with pleasure as she probed her fingers deeper and more rapidly.

Trish stood up and rushed into the bedroom to retrieve her vibrator and some oil. She lay down on the bed, her sheets had John's scent on them, and this fueled her arousal. Picking up the oil, she poured some onto her hand and rubbed it all over her pussy. Trish could not wait any longer; she picked up the vibrator, turned it on and thrust it inside her. The quick, rough movement caused her body to buck. Her hips thrust off the bed and she let out a loud moan. When her butt hit the mattress, she started pumping the vibrator in and out in at a fevered pace. Trish felt her climax building; her hand was shaking as she worked the vibrator. Her feet felt like they were on fire, her toes curled tight, and her body thrashing atop the sheets. Trish cried out as her body tensed, then started to quiver in climatic shudders. Juices flowed out of her pussy as her climax peaked, she continued to thrust the rubber shaft inside her deep, the protruding bunny ears hitting against her clit. Trish placed the ears over her clit, turned up the vibration speed, and held it in place as another orgasm rocked her body. After the second orgasm, Trish's hand fell limp, and she laid there satisfied and relaxed.

John sat in his meeting, trying to focus on the information being rattled off to him. Three rapes had occurred in the past two weeks, and they suspected a serial rapist was out on the streets. The three women could not give a thorough description; he wore a ski mask and smelled like beer. They knew he was a white male, approximately 18- 25 years of age, and all three women had received threatening messages on their cell phones. The messages would always read unknown caller. John and the other detective on the case concluded he was using a pre paid cell phone, possibly several, because those were much harder to trace. The messages were sexually explicit and angry. This young man was very angry and disturbed. He not only wanted control, he was out for revenge against these women. The crimes all took place late at night and within a 15 mile radius of each other. The third crime occurring last night, around midnight, just 5 miles from John's apartment complex.

John could not stop thinking about Trish and last night. Her body pressed against his, her eyes blazing with passion, and hearing her moans of pleasure while his cock was buried inside her. He was starting to get hard just thinking about it, he had to wrap up this meeting and enjoy his day off. He wanted to get back to Trish.

A beep on Trish's cell phone told her she could not stay in bed all day. John had said he would call her; he might have left a message. Trish went into the bathroom and started her shower running, then went to get her phone. She opened her phone, one new message. Unknown caller...

I have fantasized about you for so long; you could not possibly know how bad I hunger for you. I can't wait to taste you, to feel you, to see the look in your eyes as I ram my hard cock into your hot pussy. The time is near, soon we will be together. My wants are now needs, only you can complete me. You will be my little slut, I will quench your desires and you will never seek another man. I am going to fuck you so good; you will be mine...always.

Trish reread the message. This message was different from the others. Something had changed, the message was no longer arousing, and it seemed to be erratic. She sensed the sender was eager, and tired of waiting. Trish wished the messages would have been sent to the correct number. She felt bad that she could not reply to the message to let the sender aware of the mistake regarding the wrong number.

It was now 10:30 and Trish climbed out of the shower and dried her hair. She was still waiting to hear from John. Walking into the kitchen, she noticed the light on her answering machine. John's voice filled the room...

"Trish darlin', its John. Are you there? Ok, here's the deal, I am stuck here till at least 3:30, and things are not going as expected. Damn, I was looking forward to spending some time with you this afternoon. Can we reschedule for dinner? I will call you on my way home and swing by your apartment when I get there. You decide on a place to eat. Sorry Darlin'... talk to you soon."

Trish wondered what she was going to do to fill her day. Normally she would go shopping, but did not feel like making a trip out today. She needed to call her friend Sarah, but that too did not appeal to her at this time. Trish decided to go sit by the pool and read for a while. She dressed in a pair of cotton shorts, a short sleeved buttoned shirt and sandals. She grabbed her sunglasses and her book and headed down to the pool.

The pool was not crowded, a few people were sun tanning, and there was a group playing water volleyball on the far end of the pool. Trish sat down at an empty table, propped her feet up on a chair and started reading her book. The umbrella provided just the right amount of shade to make the heat bearable.

Roger looked out his window and noticed Trish was alone by the pool. He had to hurry up and get ready; this was his chance to get close to her. His mind was racing...What would he say? What would he do? Would she reject him? He could not worry about all that now, he had to get ready. Roger went into his kitchen and guzzled down a beer, popped open another and poured Trish a glass of lemonade. He had overheard her say she loved lemonade. He knew a lot about her, but he wanted to know more!

Trish sat reading her book, as Roger walked up to the table. She was not really in the mood for company, but for some reason she felt certain sympathy for Roger. He seemed to be a loner, not making too many friends. She did not know too much about him because she was not really into the pool "party scene", a crowd that would hang out at the pool on weekends, drink lots of alcohol and usually ended up starting a couple of fights.

"Hey Trish, I brought you some lemonade."

"Thank you Roger, that was sweet of you."

"Mind if I join you?" Roger asked, as he pulled out a chair.

"I'm not going to be here long, but sure have a seat," Trish said, giving herself an excuse if she decided to leave.

Trish slowly sipped her drink. Roger seemed anxious, he continued to look around and kept checking his watch. They talked about their jobs, the weather, and other small talk. After about 20 minutes, Trish started to pack up her glasses and book to excuse herself. She stood up, blinked her eyes a few times and sat back down in her chair.

"Trish, is there something wrong?"

"Roger, I am not feeling so well all of a sudden."

"Maybe you should go up to your apartment and lie down, you look pale."

Trish stood up again and felt dizzy. "Roger, could you help me? I am dizzy and don't know if I can make it upstairs."

Roger smiled, "I would be glad to help you, leave your things; I will come back and get them for you."

Roger helped Trish to her feet, put her arm around his shoulders and walked her to the staircase that led to their apartments. Trish stopped at the bottom of the stairs, she felt drunk, and her mind was foggy. Roger helped her step by step; once again she stopped at the second floor landing outside Roger's apartment.

"Roger, I have to stop and rest a second. I am sorry; I don't know what is happening."

Roger unlocked the door to his apartment, picked Trish up and carried her inside. By this time, her eyes were closed and her speech was slurred. He set her down on the couch and rushed to gather her book, sunglasses and lemonade glass from the pool. When he returned just minutes later, she was passed out on the couch. Everything was perfect... now he just had to keep her there.

Roger went into his bedroom to set everything up. He returned to the living room, picked Trish up and carried her into his bedroom and placed her on the bed. He reached over to the nightstand and picked up the ball gag, placed the ball in her mouth and secured the leather strap behind her head. Roger then placed the leather cuffs on her wrists, stretched out her arms and attached the restraints to the headboard. He removed her shorts and sandals and set them on the dresser. Spreading her legs wide, he attached the ankle restraints on her legs, and then secured them to the footboard. Roger stood at the end of the bed and took in the sight of Trish lying on his bed wearing a pair of white lace panties and her shirt.

"Oh Trish, you look so beautiful. Your body is so sexy. Our time has almost come, my dear. I will show you what true pleasure is."

Roger climbed onto the bed and straddled himself over Trish. He leaned over, kissed her neck and then trailed kisses down to the neckline of her shirt. Trish seemed to slip in and out of consciousness and she could not move, all she could do was moan. As his lips reached her top button, he sat up and ripped open her shirt exposing her voluptuous breasts partially covered by a white lace bra. Reaching into the nightstand, Roger took out a knife and cut the front of her bra and the sides of her underwear. The bra sprung apart freeing her breasts.

"Oh Trish, I have waited so long for this moment. I fantasized about cupping your tits in my hands, kneading them, and then sucking on your nipples till you moaned in ecstasy."

Roger reached out and grabbed her breast, kneading them roughly in his hands. Trish tried to scream, but nothing came out. Her mind was not fully aware of everything that was happening, and her vision was blurred. Roger eased down and placed a nipple in his mouth and started sucking powerfully on her nipple. He worked back and forth on each one, and then started tugging them with his teeth. Trish could feel pain, but was unsure why. Roger was highly aroused by watching her squirm, hearing her moan and watching her eyes fluttering open then closed.

"Not yet, Trish dear, you must wait. I want you fully aware when my cock rams into your hot pussy. I want you to know that it is me fucking you. I want you to know it is me!"

Roger unzipped his shorts and took out his cock. He was hard from touching Trish's body, and thinking about what he was going to do to her. He grabbed the shaft and started stroking it while he continued to play with her nipples with his other hand. He stroked slowly as he talked to her...

"Do you know how many times I have jacked off watching you tan by the pool? I watch your breasts heaving in your swimsuit and imagine myself shooting my load all over them."

Tightening his grip, he started stroking faster...

"Those other women were whores, they could not compare to you. I want you Trish. They were just a piece of ass. They were garbage. I wanted to show them they were not good enough, they may look like you, but they were nowhere as beautiful or erotic as you."

Roger continued pumping rapidly up and down on his cock. He imagined he was pumping in and out of Trish's hot, wet pussy. He closed his eyes and pictured what he would do to her later. His balls tightened together, his cock jerking, he knew soon he would finally be able to finally cum all over her beautiful tits.

"Oh Trish, are you ready? I am about to shoot my hot jizz all over your tits, baby. You want me to cum on your tits, don't you? I know you want this. Here it comes, get ready."

Roger's cum sprayed all over Trish's breast. He moaned loudly as he watched his cum spraying her and dripping down the sides of her tits. He smiled as she moaned and squirmed.

"Thank you baby," he said as he climbed off of her and kissed her cheek. "I will return the favor later," he whispered in her ear, and then got up off of the bed.

He looked at the clock and knew it would be at least two more hours before the Rohypnol would wear off. Trish should be alert then, and he could explain his thoughts to her and show her how he could pleasure her. In the meantime, he was hungry. He would go out, have a few beers and grab some food.

"I'll be back in a bit, sweetheart; I'm going out for some beer and food. Trish, I want you to be a good girl till I get back! Don't give me a reason to have to get angry with you!" Roger laughed as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

John was wrapping up his day at the office. He had asked the three women that had been raped to come down to the station again, to talk with him. They had each given statements to other officers, but he wanted to meet them and see if he could pick up on any other details they might have overlooked.

"John, the women are all here. They are in room two, waiting for you," said another detective.

John walked into the room and greeted the women and thanked them for coming in on a Sunday. His brows lowered as he noticed all three women had long dark hair and brown eyes. John immediately thought of Trish. The women all resembled her, none were as beautiful or sexy as Trish, but he was biased on that observation. He tried to focus over the next hour on their stories and write down everything he could that might help his case. He wanted this guy off the streets...Fast!

Finally John had wrapped up everything he could for today. He handed his notes to his partner as he came on duty, and picked up the phone to call Trish. He left a message on her answering machine and her cell phone, assuming she was in the shower. John left the station and started on his way to Trish's apartment. He could not get the strange feeling about the similarity of the victims' looks to hers out of his mind. Thirty minutes into his drive, he called Trish again...still no answer.

John had a very bad feeling overcome him. After ten years of being a detective and another ten, as an officer, he knew to listen to his feelings. Picking up his cell phone, he called his partner, and asked him to find a patrol officer in the area of his apartment and have him meet him there. John pulled into the parking lot where Trish parked her car; he noticed it was still where she parked it yesterday.

Roger sat at the bar, drinking his third beer and eating a burger with fries. He had walked to a nearby pub that he would often visit. He sat watching a woman with long dark hair seated with a guy in the corner. His anger was growing, he thought how cheap she looked in her tight skirt, and low cut shirt with red high heels.

"How dare she even try to look like Trish and dress in a whore's outfit?" Roger said under his breath.

Trish was waking up, her mind still not completely clear. She blinked her eyes several times before her focus became clear. She lifted her head, saw her bare breasts and felt her leg and arm restraints. Panic set in, her head whipped around trying to take it all in and figure out where she was. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Trish started thrashing around; at one point the headboard hit the wall, making a loud thump. Trish froze... no one was in the room, but was someone else here? Trish waited, when no one came into the room, she thrashed again, THUMP, THUMP. Nothing, Trish started to cry.

John walked up the steps to Trish's apartment. He knocked on the door, no answer. He called her phone and could hear it ringing. He tried her cell phone, nothing. John walked down the stairs where he was met by, David, an officer he knew well. John explained what was going on as they walked to the pool area. There were about a dozen people around the pool. John started asking around, finally a guy spoke up.

"Yeah, I think I saw her earlier. She was walking over toward the stairs with the weird dude that lives on the second floor. She looked drunk or something..."

John knew exactly which "weird dude" the guy was talking about. John rushed to Roger's door, David right behind him. They reached the door, John knocked hard three times with his fist. When there was no answer, John knocked again. Trish heard the knocking on the door; she thrashed as hard as she could...THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

John listened. "David, did you hear that?"

David listened, again the faint sound of a thump from inside. "Yeah, someone is in there!"

John yelled, "Roger, this is Detective Harding, Houston Police Department, open up!"

Trish heard John's voice. With every ounce of strength she banged as hard as she could on the wall.

"Trish, are you in there," John's voice becoming frantic. "Three for yes!"

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP

John looked at David, "I'm going in!" John said with his jaw clenched.

John stepped back, raised his leg and kicked. He kicked again. The third kick, the door flew open and John and David both drew their guns.

"Cover me," John said as he walked in. "Trish, darlin', where are you?"

THUMP, THUMP

John walked into the bedroom and froze. He looked at Trish shackled to the bed, gagged and mostly naked. She looked at him, tears flowing from her eyes. He felt like someone just kicked him in the stomach and chest at the same time. Looking in her eyes, he saw fear and shame. He could feel the anger inside him intensifying. He took a deep breath.

"David, all clear in here, I have her...Stay out there!" John shouted. He walked over to the bed and carefully removed the ball gag from Trish's mouth. Next he unbuckled the leather straps around her wrists, and then freed her ankles. Trish immediately drew her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to cover herself.

"John, where am I? How did you find me?" Trish whispered.

John picked up Trish's shorts and handed them to her. "You can put these on."

David called out to John, "Can you come in here, John?"

John stepped into the living room. David pointed to a ski mask on the arm of the couch, as well as a stack of newspapers. John picked up his phone and called his partner.

"I think we know who the rapist is. Get me a search warrant and a forensics team over here as quick as you can. You may want to get out here too. I need to take Trish to the ER to have them check her out, and then I will bring her to the station to give a statement."

John looked over to David, "Don't touch anything."

Returning to Trish, John took a deep breath and walked calmly into the bedroom. He knew he had to stay calm and in control for her, she had been through "God only knows what" already. Trish was headed into the bathroom. John had to stop her and instruct her on what she could and could not do. He explained to her what they needed to do, and where he would be taking her.