Should Have Known... Ch. 04

Six months have passed since my horrid mistake on my anniversary. Once I'd cleaned everything up and gotten some sleep I realized what a horrible thing I'd done. I'd not only cheated on my boyfriend Robert, but in an exceptionally dirty manner. I felt gross, I couldn't even bring myself to let him touch me. Eventually I'd burned everything from that night...the sheets, the lingerie, the tie down straps...I couldn't bring myself to have any reminders in the house. For a while, I would jump at every sound, certain that John and his gang were there again, waiting to use my body. When I left the house it was only to go to work or the store. My boyfriend tried to get me to go out, but I was too afraid I'd see one of them, so I told him that I was too tired or had a headache. We ended up fighting. A lot.

Yesterday, he left me. I came home early, having just lost my job because of poor performance and found a moving van outside. I skirted shyly past the men carrying boxes and furniture...keeping my head down in case one of them were the guys from my rape. I'd glance quickly at their faces as I passed, just to be sure, but still bee-lined for the door. Robert was standing in the kitchen, talking on his cell phone. He didn't hear me approaching over the noise of the movers.

"I know it's a shitty way to leave hun," he spoke softly into his bluetooth, "but you know how it's been here...and you know I'll be happier there. Yes. Yes, I know. I'm leaving a note with the number for that therapist you mentioned. Yes. I'm sure she'll be fine, I wouldn't leave like this if I wasn't. I love you too, see you in a few hours."

I gasped quietly and ran back toward the front door. I bumped into a man on my way out. I couldn't even see through the tears, he wrapped his arms around me to help steady me...I started sobbing and screaming at the same time. I couldn't form coherent words, I just wanted to get away. I tried to beat at the man, so he released me.

"Crazy bitch" he muttered, picking up the last box in the living room and walking back out.

Robert came around the corner, note in hand.

"You weren't supposed to be home yet." He stated flatly. I couldn't hear any emotion in his voice.

"I lost my job..." I said, choking back a sob.

"Yes...well..." he handed me the note..."here. And um...sorry."

That was it. He walked out. I suppose this was another thing I should have known. But I stood there in shock for a moment staring out our open front door, watching him get in his car and follow the moving van down the street. I was not really registering what was going on. Had I really been that horrible to live with? I suppose I had. But I couldn't tell him what had happened to me. He would have left me. He left me anyway. I should have done something different. What? I don't know...something. Suddenly, I felt sick. I ran to the bathroom and threw up twice. Then I sat there on the floor crying. I couldn't tell you for how long.

When I finally calmed down, I took a shower, washing the salt from my face. Feeling minimally better, I walked back out into the hall. I could see my open front door...darker now, the street lamps were lit. An urgent shock hit me...I'd left my door open! I ran over and slammed it shut. Locking both the deadbolt and the doorknob. I leaned against it, panting, saying a silent prayer to God for change.

"Please, God, please give me a different life."

I finished wrapping my hair in a towel, and pulled on my bathrobe. Pouring myself a coffee-cup of wine (Robert took all our wine glasses), I carried it room to room surveying the damage. He'd taken so many things I'd thought were ours, and what he took made no sense. In the living room, he'd left the couch, coffee table, and entertainment center...but taken the love seat and throw rug. In the den he'd taken the couch and bookshelves, left the stereo equipment, but none of the music. The kitchen was in shambles...I decided to finish that survey later. The bedroom still had our bed, but it was stripped of the satin sheets he'd bought, and he'd taken our dresser, dumping my clothes out on to the bed. The mirror was still there...I stared at myself in it for a while. Hating the girl looking back at me. How had I become so pathetic?

In disgust, I threw a blanket over the mirror and walked out.

Our office was the worst...he'd taken everything, leaving only my computer sitting on the old desk we'd stored in the garage and my chair. The computer was off, cables and everything hanging about. It was obvious he'd just lifted the whole thing off our nice desk and dumped it on the old one. The rest of the room was barren.

I stared at the computer and thought about criagslist...about everything I'd done to lead up to this...I started feeling like I was going to cry again, so I turned quickly out of the room. I deposited my coffee cup on the kitchen counter, something Robert would have never let me do, and went to blow dry my hair.

A few minutes later I came out of the bathroom again...feeling a little more like myself...but still in shock. I stood in the hall uncertainly...I had no idea what I was supposed to do now. That's when I saw a glow from the office. My heart racing, I crept toward the door...it was cracked slightly...though I was certain I'd left it open. I pushed it open slowly, ready to run if I had to...the room was still just as barren as before. Only now, my computer was on. I walked around the desk to look at the screen...what I saw there made my heart stop.

It was me, smiling up at the camera, dick in my mouth, drool and cum dripping down my chin. In the background you could see my hand wrapped around another cock and in the mirror you could see a reflection of a guy just on the verge of entering my ass. Along the bottom of the picture there was a message...

"We've been wondering when our toy would be home alone again..."

I screamed...loudly...this couldn't be happening. Frantically, I ran around the house, checking doors and windows. The front door was still closed...I ran to the back...the bedroom window was open, I slammed it shut quickly and locked it. Desperately, I looked around for the phone to call the police...Robert had taken the bedroom phone! I ran to the kitchen...that one was gone too...the office? Gone...I had no phone! I thought frantically...my cell! I'd dropped my purse by the front door. I ran down the hall again and froze.

My front door was open.

I saw my purse laying in the entry way...I could grab it and run for my car. It wasn't far...I could go to a friend's can be safe. I stood there for a moment, listening...trying to figure out what to do. I heard a noise behind me. I ran. I got to my purse, not even slowing down, I just swooped it up and leapt over the door frame.

I felt the wind knocked out of me as I hit something solid. Frank was standing there, arms around me. He dragged me roughly back into the entry way and slammed the door.

"Caught her!" he bellowed, slipping his right hand into my bathrobe.

I struggled as well as I could against him, but he held fast to my left breast.

"Just like I remember," he sneered.

I glanced up and saw John walking down the hallway from the bedroom. He was dressed in a mover's uniform. The same company Robert had left with.

"When I saw the address on the work order this morning, I just knew it was going to be the best day ever." John laughed.

"No, John...please. It was a mistake. I'm not that girl. I don't want to be that girl." I was crying again...a tear-less cry of someone who'd cried too much today.

John shrugged...like he didn't really care...and walked into the living room. Frank lifted me up off the ground, carrying me after him. When we were standing in front of the couch John turned and removed the belt from my bathrobe. He took a handkerchief out of his pocked at stuffed it into my mouth, interrupting my pleas to be let go. He then tied the belt of my robe around my head, effectively silencing me to just the smallest of whimpers. My robe now open, Frank pulled my arms behind my back, exposing me to John.

"I see our little toy has let her pussy hair grow out. This is not okay with me. From now on, you will keep yourself much better groomed, or I will have to punish you."

Frank laughed...as if the idea of punishing me made him happier than the idea of fucking me. John started to strip off his clothes and when he was completely bare he looked up and smiled at me again...a mean smile. I couldn't help myself, I stole a glimpse between his legs. I thought maybe I'd remembered the girth of his cock wrong...after all I'd remembered it as being huge...I hadn't. It stood there, point straight out at me. A monster, clear liquid glistening at the tip. I felt a shiver travel up my spine...one of fear and also of excitement. My head was screaming no...my sex though...it was already betraying me.

"You know you want this," John said, "I can smell your desire from here..."

I couldn't let this happen again. I kicked out at him with all my might...he saw it coming though, and all I succeeded in doing was throwing Frank off balance. It was all I needed...I planted my feet on the couch for leverage and pushed back. I felt Franks arms free me as he flailed wildly for balance. I turned, hoping to jump over the arm of the couch, but John caught me by the hair.

"Punishment for the little bitch it is," he spat, pulling be back toward him.

John wrapped his arms around my arms and chest while Frank grabbed my kicking legs. Frank had grabbed a roll of packing tape that had been left on the coffee table...with it they bound my arms and legs so that I couldn't move. They carried me over to the coat closet by the front door, threw me in and slammed it shut. I heard the front door open and close again. I tried to push the closet door open, but they'd wedged it from the other side with something. The closet was small, maybe two square feet. I couldn't stand up fully because of the shelf above my head...and I couldn't crouch down to see under the door. It was pitch black except for the sliver of light by my feet. I felt panicked and scared. I tried to sit, but because of my bindings I only wound up wedging myself half way down the closet.

I cried a lot, sitting there in the dark, listening to the movements in my house. I cried a whole lot...

I could hear someone moving around the house, but I couldn't tell what he was doing. My muscles were starting to ache from my wedged position. I tried working at the tape, but it was no use...they'd made sure of that. My robe hung loosely around me, keeping parts of my body warm...but I was cold, and had the pointed nipples to prove it. I could feel the handkerchief slowly edging it's way to the back of my throat. My entire focus then became keeping that slip of cloth from choking me to death. How long I was in there, I don't know. But when the door opened it took a long time for my eyes to adjust. I could just make out Frank's face as he lifted me from me wedged position and set me on the couch back in the living room.

"You're not going to be stupid about this are you girley?"

Unable to talk, I just shook my head. I didn't want to get locked in the closet again, and I was praying that he'd take the gag out.

"You've really got a fine-ass body, you know that? I haven't stopped thinking about you since you passed out with my cock up your ass."

My pussy twitched at his comment. Just one single muscle spasm. I hoped he didn't notice the shiver it sent up my spine. He did. Chuckling, he reached out to maul at my breasts again, twisting the erect nipples, teasing them...and me. I moaned a little, and instantly looked away in shame. I couldn't believe how easily I reverted back to that carnal mindset. I refused to give in like that. I tried to pull away...but couldn't really move much with my bindings.

"Tell you what...I'll take that nasty old rag out of your mouth if you promise to be good. Can we agree to that?"

I nodded quickly. I wasn't sure what "be good" meant, but I also wanted to be able to breathe better. Breathing was worth the risk of Frank's definition of good. He leaned me forward gently...I was surprised since he'd been the roughest of the guys previously...and undid the tie behind my head. I spit the handkerchief out into my lap, and he used part of my robe to wipe it away softly. I looked at him with surprise.

"I'm not a bad guy you know..." he smiled, "I just like a certain kind of sex."

"Well..." I started, thinking this over, "thank you for taking that out. I told you I'd be good...and I will...I won't call the cops, and I won't hurt you...just please let me go."

"Now see...that's a problem," he got up and walked to the kitchen, "I promised John I'd look after you while he was gone, and he'd be awfully mad at me if he came back and you weren't here. He rather enjoys you when you let out your inner cum slut."

"Please..." I didn't care about begging now, my mind racing, "Please Frank...I'm not that girl...you should see what a wreck I've been since that day. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't have...you know...relations....my boyfriend left me because of what you guys did to me..." I broke down into another sob.

"Awww...honey," Frank said, coming back into the room with two glasses of water, "we didn't do anything you didn't ask for in the end...and if you didn't want him to leave, maybe you should have let your slut out to keep him. I know I couldn't resist that side of you."

This gave me an idea! "Frank...if I...if I suck your...you know...if I suck it and make you happy...will you let me go?" I'm ashamed to say the idea kind of turned me on.

Frank got a strange glint in his eye and stood up. "Only one way to find out."

He sat me up at the edge of the sofa...arms still taped behind my back, and legs together in front of me. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his meat. He wasn't hard yet...but he wasn't soft either...he started stroking himself in front of my face. I glanced around hesitantly...I could feel myself getting a little excited at the thought of sucking Frank off...but at the same time...did I really want to go down this road again? I rationalized with myself that if I did this, I could avoid whatever John had planned for me...and with that, I stuck my tongue out and flicked it over the tip of Frank's penis.

That was all the encouragement he needed...he started pushing his hardening member deeper into my mouth. I sucked down on it as best I could, trying to work my tongue around the shaft. Frank put both hands on the back of my head and started thrusting into me more forcefully. I couldn't do much of anything but open my mouth and let him use it...which is what I think he really wanted anyway.

"Oh yeah..." he moaned, "take my fucking cock you slut...remember what you're best used for."

I choked a little as his head hit the back of my throat, then moaned a bit. I hadn't realized it until now, but my hips were grinding back and forth on the sofa cushion. Frank noticed though...of course Frank noticed...

"Dirty little whore, trying to make yourself cum like that? Yeah...little cum slut likes taking my cock doesn't she?"

I moaned again, my throat restricting around him as he shoved deeper toward the back of my mouth. Instead of gagging, I tried to swallow...hoping that would please him enough that he'd let me go. It pleased him...that's for sure...I felt the first jet of his spunk go straight down my throat. He pulled back and filled my mouth with the rest...holding me still despite my attempts to pull away.

"Show me." Frank demanded, "I want to see my jizz all over your whore tongue."

I opened my mouth, not daring to stick my tongue out for fear it'd dribble all over me. He looked down and laughed again. Then told me to swallow it as he walked out of the room. As soon as he was gone, I spit it into one of the water glasses. I didn't want to be that girl. The couch cushion was wet underneath me, and I realized my pussy must be drenched. This scared me...I didn't want to get turned on by this kind of thing...it wasn't normal to be horny because of sexual abuse.

Frank came back with a knife, and I felt my heart racing again...but he just set it on the coffee table and left again. A couple seconds later he came back with a bowl of water, shaving cream, my razor, and a towel. He set them all down on the coffee table and picked up the knife.

"You're going to be good right? You promised."

"Please Frank..." I found myself begging again, "I sucked your cock like you said...please just let me go."

"First," he smiled, "I want you to shave your pussy for me."

With that, he cut the tape from my wrists and legs. He spread a towel on the cushion next to me and moved me over to it. I sat there numbly as he pushed my legs apart, then spread shaving cream all over between my legs. He handed me the razor and sat back expectantly. I didn't know what else to do...he still had the knife sitting right next to him...so I started shaving. I moved slowly at first, my hands shaking with nerves...but soon I was shaving just like I used to, quickly and precisely. I accidentally grazed my clit with my thumb at one point...it felt enormous, and on fire. I started 'accidentally" doing that as often as I could. Soon, my puss was totally bare, but I was still running the razor back and forth, just above my skin...so I could touch my clit again and again.

"I don't think we need that any more..." Frank said, taking the razor out of my hand, "but don't you dare stop."

At first I wasn't sure what he meant...then I realized...he'd known all along I was touching myself. Tentatively, I touched my clit again...slightly more forcefully this time, making small, firm circles with my index finger. I hadn't had an orgasm or even thought about sex since the last time Frank had been in my house...and I'd forgotten how good it felt. I felt the warm tingling building in my abdomen, becoming stronger and stronger...I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations of my finger gliding over the nub of my clit. I felt Frank's finger slide into my pussy, moving firmly in and out...and I could feel the orgasm building.

"Little whore going to cum for me?"

My eyes shot open, remembering what was going on, and locked on to his. I could see the lust there, the animalistic passion...I knew he wouldn't stop if I asked him to...so I figured I might as well go with it. I ground down on his finger, raising my hips toward him so that he'd hit my g-spot just right. After all...I'd already sucked him off, it wasn't any sluttier to let him finger me, right? It's not like I was letting some new guy fuck me. I came....hard. My whole body seemed to feel it. I closed my eyes, and leaned my head back over the couch as Frank continued to finger fuck me through the orgasm. It felt amazing.

I felt Frank move to sit next to me, his hand still buried in my pussy. His mouth enveloped my right breast, sucking and teasing the nipple. I rode out the high, grinding on his hand until the final wave of my orgasm subsided. Frank pulled his hand out of me and sat up. He grabbed me and pulled me into his lap, facing him. With one quick thrust, he buried his cock into my wet tunnel. I screamed...with fear, with passion, with the pain of having him so deeply inside me. I struggled for a moment to get away...my last desperate attempt at retaining my dignity...but Frank held fast around my waist. His mouth clamped down on my breast again biting into the nipple. It hurt in the best way I could imagine. I had no more energy to fight him...I was tried and hurt...and I wasn't strong enough to stop him anyway...so I decided to ride it out. Literally. I leaned back, bracing myself on his knees, and started rocking back and forth on my own. My freshly bare pussy tingled every time I rose up, moving away from Frank's belly exposing my sex to the cold air. I could feel the electricity jolting through me, and I gave in to it. Frank stopped me for a second to reposition so he was laying outright on the couch...that second was more than I wanted to wait. The need to cum again became tortuous...I closed my eyes and focused on my own personal goal.