Walking Home from School

For as long as I could remember, I've walked to school. When I moved to Tally, I made sure my apartment was within walking distance of my classrooms. Sometimes, my projects run late at night. My friends with cars always offer me rides after it gets dark. They worry if I'll make it home ok. I've never worried, though.

I was walking home one night, later than I usually do. Normally, I have my headphones on while I walk. I had a feeling in the bottom of my stomach that I shouldn't wear them tonight. I didn't notice anyone as I was walking past the courtyard. Before I knew it, there was one hand on the back of my neck and another wrapped around my waist, forced up underneath my sweatshirt. "Keep walking," a low voice whispered in my ear. As something sharp flashed up my side where his hand was- not his hand but a knife pressing into my side. His other hand was holding the back of my neck so I couldn't turn and get a glimpse of who was taking me.

We sculled along, any passers by would have assumed we were a couple embarrassing each other. He could sense when I was about to try something and pushed the knife firmer into my side. He pushed me towards a basement door or a maintenance room. A door that should be locked but wasn't. He let go of the back of my neck to grab the door handle. I saw this as my opportunity to run. He was too fast. I was caught by the collar of my sweatshirt. I could hear some of the fabric ripping, but it didn't rip enough for me to slip from his grip. He pulled me through the door and pinned me against the inside wall with all his weight.

His chest against my arms, my arms against my side, my back against the wall. I was panicking now. Now, no one was going to find me here. One of his hands had moved to cover my mouth and nose. Had I screamed? I couldn't remember. My heart was beating too fast. I could grasp just enough air through his fingers to stay conscious. He kept me like that for a few seconds. He didn't have to say anything, but I knew the only way I would make it out was if I played the toy he wanted. He lessoned his weight on my chest but firmly held my skull into the wall with the hand covering my mouth. He took his knife away from my stomach and started out lining half of my heart-shaped face. He knew exactly how much pressure he could put on my skin without drawing blood. He told me to be a good girl, and it would all be over soon as the corners of his mouth arched up with a smirk.

The hand with the knife reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip tie handcuffs. He stuffed it in my hands. My arms were now unpinned, but he pressed my skull harder into the wall. The knife came back up to outline the other half of my heart-shaped face. I looked at his face, mostly hidden by the shadow of a hood. He looked at my hands impatiently, wondering why they hadn't completed the assignment. My hands were shaking so much that I kept fumbling to pull the ties tight around my wrists. Once I had them as tight as I could manage, he stuffed something in my mouth and tightened them a little more.

I'm not sure how, but he swept my legs out from under me, and I fell down hard. I felt my pelvis hit the concrete floor. I knew I was going to have a bruise there tomorrow. He grabbed a chunk of my hair on the top of my head and pulled it back, pinning my head to the wall. I had fallen with my knees tucked in front of my chest. With his knife at my eye, maybe the tip was half an inch from my eyelashes, he whispered, "Spread your legs." I wasn't sure what would happen if I didn't, but I knew I didn't want to find out. I extended my legs in a v shape. His hand full of my hair, kept my head against the wall. The knife left my vision and snaked down to my shorts. "I'll only cut you if you move," he said. He was accurate. I felt the cool metal of the knife touch my lips only once. He cut through my shorts and underwear.

Once he made a hand sized hole, he ripped them off entirely. "Play with yourself," he said. I slowly reached down and brushed my clit with the fingertips of one hand. I was going slower than I would by myself. I was hesitant, not knowing if I was going to displease him. Besides it was hard for me to get a rhythm going with my hands ziptied together. I tried my best. He seemed pleased enough. He unbutton his pants and pulled his dick out. "Don't stop touching yourself" he said. He pulled the gag out of my mouth and slid his knife in. He tilted my chin up to make my eyes meet his. "Suck my dick like a good little fuck toy or I'll cut your tongue out."

He thursted his penis into my mouth. I tried to keep my jaw open but there wasn't enough room in my mouth. I gagged the first few thursts his did in my mouth. Then I started to sync my fingers on my clit with his thrusts in my mouth. He couldn't see if I was still playing with myself from his angle but I wanted to keep touching myself anyways. I kept gagging and I could feel the hot tears rolling down my cheeks, no doubt black with mascara. He wiped one of them away; pulling his dick out so I could breath again. Then promptly stuffed the gag back in.

He took a few steps back and started to unwrap a condom. I was shaking. I couldn't think. If someone else were in my position maybe they could have run to the door. I couldn't move. He could. He grabbed one of my ankles and dragged me away from the wall so my back was now on the ground. I instistually closed my legs. He pried them open like it was nothing and shoved his hips in-between so I couldn't close them. One hand cupped my forehead pinning my skull to the ground. The other he held himself with and started to run himself up and down my slit, getting his dick wet. He pushed himself inside me.

I let out a scream but it was muffled by the gag. I think he left out a light chuckle. He continued thrusting himself in me. I could feel the base of his shaft rubbing against my clit. After awhile he seemed to get bored so he snaked his hand under my sweatshirt up and traced a circle around my nipple. He flicked me and I let out a gasp muddled by the gag. That seemed to spark an idea for him. He leaned back with his dick still in me. The hand that was cupping my forehead now grasped my wrists and pushed my hands to my chest. The other hand left my nipple and found a new spot tracing a few circles around my clit. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. He flicked my clit and I winced at the pain. It must have given him pleasure because he flicked my clit harder a few more times. I could feel my self get tighter around him each wince. "You're cute when you squirm" he said. He made me wince once more with his hardest flick yet.

Then he grabbed a clump of hair on top of my head with one hand and my neck with the other. He practically lifted me up by my skull. He leaned back until I was in top of him cowgirl style. His hand on my throat got tighter. I could feel there wasn't any room for air. He commanded "ride me if you want to breath." It was hard for me to get a rhythm going with my hands cuffed together. I started to get black spots in my vision as I bounced up and down. I got little bit of air every so often. He knew how to give me just enough oxygen to keep riding him and no more. I could feel my juices dripping down my thighs. I felt him lift me by my skull again as my vision went black. I couldn't see but I could feel him give me a few faster thursts and let put a moan.

He threw me off to the side as he took the condom off. He press my cheek to the floor. My arms caught between my stomach and the concrete. My legs were spread. I didn't have the energy to try and close them again. He have me one last flick down there. There wasn't as much of a wince this time as I was practically catatonic. He traced my slit with his finger back and did a circle around my asshole. "Next time" he said and I shivered. He picked up his knife and walked away.