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Click hereHe grabbed me by the back of the neck and shoved me into the wall. He was strong; stronger than he looked. I was stunned.
I felt his body press against mine from behind, his hand still tight on my neck. I felt waves of heat run from his fingers into my head and my back. He leaned till his mouth was by my ear and whispered, "you're mine now."
I squirmed. I was pinned tightly and my hands couldn't reach him at this angle. But he didn't seem to like my wiggling and he spun me around, his hand moving to the front of my throat, the other pinning my shoulder to the wall behind me. His grip tightened just slightly-he was completely controlled-and he smirked as my eyes popped in surprise. I couldn't breathe. He let me struggle for breath for 15 or 20 seconds, finally letting me gasp for air as my head spun and my body felt weak. That was all he needed-that moment of weakness.
He moved quickly, expertly. Faster than I could recover, he had me on the floor and my hands bound behind my back with his belt. It was the boy scout kind of belt, with the teeth clasped into a woven band, and it held tight. He dug out a bandana to tie over my mouth, muffling my cries enough to keep a neighbor from hearing, and then dragged me into his bedroom.
"No one tells me no," he stated matter-of-factly as he pushed me to the floor. I nearly fell on my face without my hands to catch me, and I felt the impact on the hard wood heavily on my shoulder where I landed-I was sure I'd incur bruises. I saw his shoes step down in front of me, and suddenly I felt his foot land square on my stomach. He was kicking me while I was helpless on the ground, like a gangster in a movie. I couldn't breathe again, except this time it was in sheer pain. It felt like something had exploded inside of me. Before I could recover from that impact, another landed on my back, and then another on my legs, and then another, and then another. He wasn't kicking me as hard as he could; that was obvious, but it was hard enough to make me feel like I was caught in a whirlwind of anguish.
I couldn't understand why he was doing this to me. Certainly, I'd denied him a date, but I had never expected him to respond with violence. I'd known him for almost a year, and I knew he was a sort of aggressive personality, but I didn't expect something like this out of him. He was brutal and cold-not like an animal who has been hurt and becomes furious, but like a calculating, vengeful madman.
I laid curled in a ball, crying, trying to make myself as small a target as possible. He tired of kicking me and dragged me to the foot of the bed. He pulled out a box with some gardening tools, a hammer and nails, and a length of rope that looked like it was once used as a clothesline. He used the rope to bind me to the foot of the bed by the waist, my hands still bound by the belt. He took the bandana off to stuff a washcloth in my mouth and then replaced the bandana over it. I was completely silenced. All I could do was let out muffled moans. I was terrified of what else he would do to me.
He lifted my chin to look into my eyes, which were filled with tears. His face looked meaner than I'd ever seen it-he stared at me like he hated me. Finally he said, "You think you've got all the power in the world, don't you? You think you can pull me around by the dick, making me fall for you and then crushing me. Well I don't get crushed. I do the crushing. You see how easy it is for me to take the power back? You're nothing. You're just a miserable little bitch who at the end of the day can't even defend herself. This is what real power looks like-me taking you and doing whatever the fuck I want to you."
That was when he ripped my shirt down the front to expose my breasts. He grabbed a nipple and pinched it hard, making me scream through my makeshift gag. "See?" he said. "Whatever I want."
I was sure then that he was going to rape me, just to prove he could. But he didn't. I don't think it was about sex-it was about power. He tightened the rope around my waist and the belt around my wrists, just to be sure I wouldn't squirm free of them, and then he left me there.
"I'll be back for you in a few hours. Maybe. Maybe longer. We'll see what I feel like." And he turned out the lights and left.
Not enough information to be a story. Too much is missing. Not good.
So tired of these new stories with no plot or explanation that start in the middle with no build up or climax. Where is the rest of the story? How did they get there where is it going?