A Cold Dark AlleybyFunWithRee©
I was enjoying a fun evening with friends at a local bar but it is well past time to head back to the comfy warmth of my little apartment. The 6 of us closed the place down; only leaving after the gentle, but insistent, hints from the bartender. The bar is only a few short blocks from my apartment building, so I decline the offer of a car ride from my friends. Besides, we all had been drinking so a walk was safer, right?
The weather had turned cold in recent days and I can see my breath as I head down the block. Giving a final wave good-bye, my friends pile into their car and drive away. The traffic is very light, not a surprise at 2:30AM, and the street feels pretty empty once the sound of their engine fades into the distance.
The air is crisp with just a touch of bite to it and I can feel the crunch of the newly formed frost underfoot. The street lamps overhead cast a soft, diffused light over the sidewalk and street, throwing doorways and empty storefront windows into various shades of black and grey murkiness.
I dig my hands deeper into my pea-coat jacket, sorry that I had decided to wear my thinnest party skirt when I dressed for the night out. The evening cold begins to nip at my exposed thighs and I picked up the pace as I carefully make my way down the sidewalk. My coat stops just short of the hem of my skirt and I can feel the silky material swish against my skin with each quick step.
I am half-way home when I become aware of footsteps behind me. I turn my head slightly, trying to see if I can catch a glimpse of who it is. No luck. I curl my fingers around my key ring in my coat pocket and wonder briefly if I would be able to run in my 3 inch heels, if I had to. Then I silently curse to myself; I can't let my imagination (and my slight Rum and Coke buzz) set me on edge for no reason. I am only a hundred or so feet from the next corner and a brightly lit street intersection. There is just one alley between me and the all-night quick mart I frequented regularly. I decide I can duck in there, catch my breath, and tame my imagination.
With my confidence restored, I set aside my paranoia and start past the alley. But before I can get clear of the shadows, there is a sudden flurry of movement and strong hands yank me headlong into the darkness. Startled, I gasp as I turn my ankle, tripping sideways as a sharp pain shoots through my right foot. Trying to right myself, I stumble wildly as I am flung hard against the brick wall of the building. With my head ringing, I try to push away from the wall, but stop when I feel steely fingers pressing hard into the soft skin at the base of my throat. I am quickly pushed tight against the wall, my arms flailing helplessly against my attacker.
I can't breath, or scream, or think. I can feel my racing heartbeat in my head and feel the panic start to overwhelm me. Digging my fingers into my attacker's arm I pull frantically but can't match his physical strength. I am helpless and can feel the fight draining out of me. Everything is starting to get a little fuzzy and I suddenly feel amazingly tired. The sound of my small, short gasps ring against the alley walls as he steps closer, pressing his body against me.
"Not a sound," he growls, placing his lips to my right ear. He pulls back a little to look into my face, and I can feel his body heat through his pants as he slides his muscular legs between the bare skin of my thighs.
His hard eyes are penetrating and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. My vision blurs and as I blink away the tears, I can feel my lips begin to tremble. I shudder as I feel the cold fingers of his other hand being drawn down the side of my face; I can't help but turn away. He chuckles and I grimace; the fear had settled deep and he knows it.
The tightness against my throat lessens as he releases his grip and I find that I could finally draw a deep breath. He is close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breathe on my face, his legs still pressed against mine. My hands are shaking as I slowly draw them up to rub the sensitive skin of my throat, my eyes big and round, locked on his darkened face. He places his index finger to his lips and raised his eyebrows in question. I slowly nodded that I understand and he smiles. But the smile doesn't touch his eyes; they remained cold and penetrating.
"Good girl," he whispers. "You are beautiful, especially with those tears." With his thumb he gently traces a tear down my cheek. I can't help the low moan that escaped my lips as I pressed myself against the brick wall at my back desperate to get away from his touch.
I lick my lips, ready to ask him what he wants of me. But the dark flash of fire in his eyes warns me off and the question dies unspoken in my throat. I close my eyes, trying desperately to gather my breath, my thoughts and my courage, to find a way out. His hand slides across my chin and for a brief moment his touch is gone, then my world explodes in a shower of pain. My head rings wildly as my head snaps back from his fierce open-handed slap; the surprise of the strike more powerful then the actual touch. My left cheek is on fire. The strike steals my breath, thoughts and courage in a single moment. I think I might collapse, but he is still close, pressed leg to leg, forcing me into the brick wall.
I raise my hand to feel my cheek but freeze when he snatches my wrist in a crushing grip. I am trembling from head to toe as he glares intently at me, silently menacing. He pulls my hand down to my side and then gently reaches for my face. I want to pull away, but the look he gives me stops me cold. I stand stonily while he strokes my check, fire hot from his slap. His touch is oddly soothing and my mind tumbles at the conflict. His hand moves lower and I tense as he puts the full weight of his hand again on my throat. I can breath, but the threat of pressure is there.
"Good girl," he says again. "I think you might understand now, right?"
I swallow hard and slowly nodded. I can't tear my gaze from those dark, hard eyes. My mind is numb.
He stares at me for a few moments longer then suddenly pulls away. It is shocking to suddenly lose his body heat and I feel my knees go weak. I lean forward slightly, and concentrate on a few deep breaths, wishing desperately that my head would clear. Slowly, with each ragged breath, the roar in my head begins to diminish and I can feel a little of the fear subsiding.
Standing back, he makes a show of looking me over. As he stands leering at me, I can finally get a good look at him. The light in the alley is poor, but I can now see more of his features. Not overly tall, but muscular, and unshaven. His hooded sweatshirt hides his head. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can't immediately place his face.
Then it dawns on me; he had been at the bar tonight.
As I catch my breath, my head is starting to clear. The fear, while still there, is no longer paralyzing, and I begin to look around the alley. The lighting is very poor, but I can see that we are far from the street entrance. I grimace as I realize that I won't be able to escape from him in heels and a twisted ankle.
"Take off your jacket."
His tone, so menacing and primal, drives straight through me. I startle at the command in his voice and suddenly feel very small and powerless again. My breath catches in my throat and I hesitate. But when he steps toward me I find myself quickly fumbling for the oversized buttons that hold my jacket shut. He watches intently as I finally pull the last button free and shrug out my jacket. I can do nothing but watch as he slowly reaches for my jacket and takes it from my shaking hands.
I begin to tremble in earnest as the cold night air dances across my skin. The silky tank top I had chosen to match with my party skirt does little to shield me from the bite of the cold. I can feel the goose bumps raise all across my skin and, much to my dismay, feel my nipples tighten and harden. I start to fold my arms across my chest but stop immediately when he hisses his disapproval. I lick my lips again, my mouth suddenly dry, and let my arms swing lifeless to my sides.
I can't help but swallow hard as he again steps closer. His power and confidence is palpable as he steps directly in front of me. His movement is calculated, like a hunter stalking his prey. I shiver again, and not just from the cold.
"Turn around and face the wall", he commands. A soft sob escapes my lips as I comply.
Slowly he wraps one of his hands into my shoulder-length hair and pulls my head back.
"You will do as I command, you will not question, and you will not hesitate. And you will address me as Sir. Do you understand?"
I try to nod but can't as he pulls my head back further. "Yes", I gasped. I yelp as he pulls harder and I blurt out desperately, "Yes, Sir! Yes, sir!"
He releases my hair and leaves me panting. I am trembling head to toe as I rest my forehead against the rough brick, trying to collect myself.
"Hands behind your back."
I don't move quickly enough. Suddenly, sharp pain courses through my right ass cheek, the sting of his slap on my cold skin sending my heart into my throat.
"I'm sorry", I blurt loudly, quickly putting my arms behind my back. The sound of the zip-tie locking around my wrists echoes off the brick walls, mixing with my gasps, leaving my head was spinning once again.
He grabs me by my hair again and yanks me backward; pulling me back so far I fear I am going to fall over. Pressing his face into mine, he growls "Try again?".
"I'm sorry, Sir", I manage to gasp.
Abruptly he pushes me upright and presses me face-first into the brick wall. With his hand on the back of my neck, he pins my face to the rough wall, my throbbing left cheek pressed hard into the uneven surface.
"Stick your ass out", he commands and I moved quickly. He kicks my legs apart until I am spread-eagle and quietly sobbing.
"Not a sound, do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir", I whisper.
My head is turned away from the street opening, and I am left to stare into the darkness of the alley as I feel his warm fingers against my cold skin. His touch is firm, but oddly gentle. With his free hand he traces a pattern up the inside of one thigh and down the other, careful to avoid any sensitive parts between. My skin ripples under his touch as he sweeps across my skin under my skirt.
I am horrified to find my body responding to his touch. That familiar sensation of pleasure starts to blossom and try as I might I can't resist a sigh when his fingertip slowly slid inside the leg band of my thong. My breathing becomes ragged as his fingertips leave a trail of fire on my cold skin.
I'm startled as he changes tactics, reaching around and roughly grabbing my right breast. My thin is bra no protection from his strong fingers. He torments my nipples, rolling and pinching my sensitive nubs until I cry out from the pain. I hear him hiss his disapproval at my noise and clamp my lips shut, desperate for some relief from his cruel touch. With one hand still pressing my face to the wall, he grabs the silky fabric of my blouse and quickly yanks it open, the buttons spinning and bouncing around our feet. In short order he pushes my bra up, leaving my c-cup breasts unprotected to his brutal touch.
He begins to slap my breasts, building in intensity as he moves from one to the other. I am shaking with the struggle to stay quiet and remain still. He is merciless as he pinches and pulls my nipples, crushing my sensitive globes in his strong hands. I am moaning loudly behind my pursed lips as I endure his harsh touch, my mind frantic for a way to survive this pain. Just as the pain was beginning to morph into pleasure he suddenly stops, leaving me dizzy and panting, my breasts throbbing and tender.
"Don't move", he commands as he removes his hand from the back of my neck. Again, the command in his voice is paralyzing and it takes me a moment to collect my thoughts. I hear a faint metallic ring and then the feel of hard cold steel slowly sliding up the outside of my thigh. I tense as the realization hits me; he has a knife!
I sob loudly as he steps close, pressing his groin into my ass. I can feel him pushing my skirt up further and moan when he slides the knife over my hip and under the band of my thong, easily slicing through it. I can feel the fabric start to fall away as he switches the knife to the other hand and repeats the processes on the other side. I am paralyzed, barely breathing, fear knotted up in my throat.
He slowly pulls away the fabric and I can feel the cold night air dance across my pussy lips. I am in shock.
Grabbing my hair again, he pulls me away from the wall until my back is pressed up against his chest. I am off-balanced, confused, and scare beyond reason. I can smell his cologne and sweat and I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath.
"Open your mouth".
Before I can fully comply he forces my mouth wide open, shoving my thong into my mouth with rough fingers. My mouth is packed full with the silky material and I start to panic. My eyes fly open in surprise as the adrenaline races through my body again. I frantically twist in his grasp, but my struggle is useless and short-lived. Pulling me up by my hair, my hands useless behind my back, he has me on tip-toes when he harshly commands "Be still!".
I immediately stop struggling. He holds me there for a few moments longer, then slowly let me down. I can feel the tears welling up again as I look up into his hard face. His steely eyes glisten and he smiles wickedly down at me. A predator with his catch. I shiver and try to blink away the new tears.
"Beautiful", he whispers and he kisses away the tear rolling down my cheek.
He turns me again toward the wall, pressing my face to the rough surface. "Ass out", he commands again. "Spread those legs, slut. And stand still. I don't want you to move a muscle."
I shiver violently and comply, vision blurred by tears, my muffled breath loud in my ears.
His fingers are merciless. He strokes and pinches, rubs and pulls everything between my legs. I don't want that deep fire to arise, but his touch is hot and sweet, rough and warm, and I feel my desire start to build and spread. By the time he slips a finger into my hot pussy I am already wet and ready. I am horrified. And even more horrified that I don't want him to stop.
He chuckles darkly as he slipped two fingers in. I can hear my juices slurping as he messages me deep inside. When he slips in the third finger I moan and grind my hips against his hand. My desire is really starting to build and I badly want the release.
I cry out when he suddenly pulls his sweet fingers away and slaps my ass again with this open hand. The pain is excruciating, and mixed with the pleasure I was just experiencing, my brain doesn't know what to do. My head is ringing as he spins me away from the wall and roughly forces me onto my knees in front of him. He wrenches my head back by my hair and, leaning down, presses his face into mine. Spittle rains down on my face as he hisses "Dumb bitch, I told you not to move."
I try to cry out, but muffled moans are all I could muster past the panties in my mouth. Blinded with fresh tears, I gasp again when he releases my hair. I hear the sound of a zipper and then his rough fingers are again in my hair. He yanks the panties from my mouth and I gulp in a couple of sweet breaths.
"Suck it", he demands, as he forces his hard cock into my mouth. Guiding my head with his hand, he grinds his crotch into my face, pushing his cock down my throat. I gag and he pulls out quickly. I just manage to suck in another breath before he plunges his cock down my throat again. Again and again he strokes his cock down my throat until I am dizzy and swaying in his grasp. Tears are streaming down my face as he finally pulled away to let me catch my breath.
"Stand up", he hisses, pulling me upright by my hair. He frog marches me a few steps deeper into the alley where a short stack of wooden pallets lay. Roughly, he bends me at the waist over the wooden stack, and steps up behind me. He presses my face into the wood, forcing my ass up in the air. My ears ring with his deep grunts as he slides his hot, hard cock up the inside of my thighs.
"Tell me you want it", he growls.
I swallow and gasp, desperate to respond, but can only moan.
"Tell me!" he demands.
"Please, sir", I beg and he tightens his grip in my hair. "Please let me have that hard cock." Before I can even finished the sentence he slides his thick cock into my exposed pussy in one hard stroke. I groan hard, feeling the ripples start from deep inside. I almost come right then. He must sense it because he pauses, pulling me up off the pallets by my hair.
"You ask permission before you come, slut. Understand."
"Yes, Sir" I sigh gratefully.
Still holding me by the hair, suspended just above the pallets, he begins to slowly slide his hard cock all the way into my hot pussy then pull out almost completely, leaving me to whimper each time. My sensitive nipples brush the rough wood with his movement, adding to the fire building in my pussy. With each stroke I can feel myself blossoming and the hot, deep heat building. I want it so bad, I am shaking. Just a little more, a little more, and I can come. Oh God, please! I think to myself.
Slowly he begins to pick of the pace. With one hand in my hair, I feel his other hand brutally squeeze my right breast as he drives into me. I squirm with the pleasure and pain and his grip hardens. His grunts mixed with my soft moans, vibrating the air around us. I can feel myself building toward a powerful climax and my gasps turned into sobs as I get closer. Yanking my head back hard he growls again, "Ask permission first!".
"Please Sir", I gasp.
He ignores me. I gulp empty air, desperate to draw a full breath.
"Please... please, Sir!", I gasp again, feeling frantic, the passion building exponentially.
"Please, WHAT?", he demands.
"Please, please, may I come, Sir?" I blurt. I am riding the edge now, ready to fly. So close, oh so close.
"Are you a slut?" he growls.
"What?" I gasp, taken by surprise.
"You're a slut. A stranger grabs you in an alley and here you are all hot and wanting to come. Are you a slut?"
"Yes, Sir", I whisper.
"I want to hear you say it. Say you're a slut!"
I am dancing on that line between reality and release. I'll say anything he wants to hear if we will just let me come; nothing else is in my mind, just that I need to come!
"I'm a slut, Sir. I'm YOUR slut, Sir. Please... please, may I come for you? Please let me come!"
"Come, bitch, come hard", he shouts.
And with that I am exploding. The spasms builds from deep inside and cascades through my core as I gasp and curl my toes. He continues to stroke through my orgasm and I can feel the dam break; I gush wildly, a torrent of warmth running down my legs as I melt with a final, exhausted moan.
He isn't far behind me. He pounds hard for a few more strokes and I hear him grunt. He pulls out, letting me fall completely forward, and I feel the warmth of his cum has he showers my ass, emptying his load in spasm after spasm. I lay spent atop the stack of wooden pallets, aftershocks coursing through my pussy, trying to catch my breath, as his grunts echo into the darkness.
I alternated between gasps and sobs, letting the energy of the orgasm wash through me while we both rest and try to catch our breath.
After a few minutes I hear him move away and then back to me. I hear the metallic sound again as he opens his knife and cuts the zip-tie from my wrists. He drapes my jacket over me as I turn on my side. He leans close and says "Stay here, I'll go get the car."
With a sweet kiss on my bruised lips he walks away, taking the keys from my jacket pocket with him. He walks to where he had hidden our car at the end of the alley. Quickly he starts it up and pulls forward to where I lay on the pallets. Leaving the car running, he gets out and walks back to me.