Frank - 1993

Copyright ©1999,2005 CaitsBasement.com
No duplication or transmission, whole or in part, without prior written permission.

Wow...I have to tell you what happened to me last nite....I haven't told anyone; who could I tell?  But you, I could tell... 

We were walking to the car, and he suddenly pulled out a knife that he has been carrying lately in his coat. It's a switchblade, and the snap of the blade surprised the HECK out of me.... Startled me, and gave me a nice dose of adrenalyn to boot. Then he said to me (in a VERY commanding voice), "Do you see this?" And he came close to me and grabbed my arm, just below my shoulder. His grip commanded me more than his tone. "Yes" I said, wondering what he was up to, but breathing quicker from the shock and the adrenalyn.

"Keep walking!" he said. He then clicked the blade back into the handle of the knife, but pressed it up against my side, hard, yet not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me he was taking control of me.  We walked a few feet, toward my car, and he leaned over to my ear, and in a strong, raspy, low voice, whispered to me, "Don't scream, don't say a word, or I'll kill you. Do you  understand?"

I knodded yes quickly, my mind racing with apprehension and excitement.   My breathing continued to race, as well, as I became lost in his words and his actions, forgetting that this was the very same man who I have come to trust with my life, my history, my soul, my love... At that moment, he became a stranger with such intensity as to light me up, both with fear and with trembling sexual tension. What would he do with me?

"What do you want with me?" I whispered. He yanked my arm forward in reply, hurrying my step and displaying his impatience with my actions.   "I told you not to talk!" He bit, pressing the butt of the knife against my throat, threatening to click open the blade against my vulnerable flesh. He then opened the passenger-side door of my car, throwing me onto the seat, sneering at me.  He drove me back to my place in silence.... 

Once inside my apartment, me shaking with trepidation, he said to me, "I've only got 8 hours 'till I'm outta here. You cooperate with me, and I won't have to hurt you. You understand?" I nodded. I guess he could sense my fear, his voice seemed so powerful and pleased with himself.

He grabbed my arm again, pushing me toward my bedroom, which was easily visible given the small size of my living quarters. My mind began to fly wildly with images of what he had in mind... I knew what he wanted, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. No, no, no, I kept saying, he's not really going to do anything, he just wants a place to stay...  The entire time he had kept me close enough to him as to not let me see his face. Of course my fear helped him; I was petrified that if I made one false move, he would take it as an excuse to slice my throat open.  

He shoved me face down on my bed, ripping my coat off my arms as he flung me forward. "Eight hours, and I'll be outta here. You won't even hear me leave. And if you are good and cooperative, you'll get outta here alive!" Then he moved in close behind me, pressing me to the bed with his weight. "Do you have neighbors nearby?" In fear and inability to think, I froze. He shook me quickly, hard, "I said, DO YOU HAVE NEIGHBORS NEARBY?!! Don't MESS with me, little girl, or I'll do you like I did the shop clerk. Told HIM I wouldn't hurt him, too.  You never know, by looking at people." He laughed. "Get my drift?"

I nodded. What was that supposed to mean?!! He had told ME he wouldn't hurt me. He had killed a shop clerk? What was I in for? Did I have any choice? 

"Is there anyone around who might hear you?" He repeated. I nodded again, becoming even more aware that there was nothing I could do now to defend myself, which would not mean sure death for me.   "You live here all alone, don't you?" I could hear he was half mocking me, that I had no one to help me. I nodded again. I heard him laugh.  He started to lift his weight off me, telling me, "Don't even MOVE, or your DEAD!" What could I do? 

"TURN your head into the pillow!" I did, quickly.  My nose felt crushed against the cotton, and I needed to press my chin to my chest so that I could free my mouth to breathe.  I did it slowly, hoping he'd not notice.  I didn't want to infuriate him again, he seemed to be calming down a bit, and that meant I was more likely to live. "Such a pretty girl, to be living all alone. So-o-o-o-o pretty." His voice sounded like a crazed lunatic as he spoke to me. He was slowly stroking my hair, like the way you'd pet an animal.  Finally he spoke again. "What's your name, pretty one?" I didn't know what to say...should I tell him, or should I give him a fake name? Surely he'd never tell me HIS name, not his REAL one, anyway...

He didn't like my hesitation, and was quick to retaliate. He started gripping my neck as though to choke me from behind, and I said "Caitlyn" through the tightness of his grasp, not thinking of the consequences of telling him my real name, only thinking of saving my life. Mentally I chastized myself for my mistake.  Then he got off me, moving toward my closet. "My name is Frank," he sneered. Yeah, right.  Like I'd believe that... 

He opened my closet door, looking for who-knows-what, tearing things in the process. My mind continued to be a flood of images of fear and possibilities of what this man could take from me, now that he had me in his control. Anything he wanted, he could just take. "Please don't hurt me." I wanted to distract him. "You want money, you can have it. You want a place to stay, you can..."

"SHADDUP!!" he howled. He was suddenly on top of me again, his weight smothering my face into the pillow, grinding my body against the mattress. "You know DAMNED well that I will take ANYTHING I WANT! Besides, I TOLD you, I just need a place to spend the night, and then I'm free! Now, I have to be sure you don't see me, so I won't have to kill you. Can't have you identifying me, now can I?" He was stroking my long, dark hair again, over and over, slower and slower. "So-o-o-o-o pretty!"

Finally he spoke again, "I'm going to put this over your eyes, so that you can't see. But I don't want it to hurt, ok?" I nodded again, a bit relieved that he had some compassion. Maybe I wouldn't die afterall. He tied a torn strip of cloth around my eyes, being careful to move my hair before it pulled. So gentle, his touch.   So this was what he was hunting for in my closet...a blindfold. He pulled the knot tight; firm, so that I couldn't open my eyes, but not painfully tight.

"Does that hurt?" "No," I said. My voice sounded small to me, like a child's. But I was calming down. My only fear was that he wanted to take my body, and there'd be nothing I could do.  Suddenly he grabbed my wrists, firmly. He was pulling my arms behind my back, but not painfully; only strong enough to impress me, not enough to hurt me. Not unless I struggled against him. I thought he'd tie my hands behind my back, he was looping a strap around my left wrist, but then he grabbed my shoulders and flipped me onto my back. I quickly understood what he was up to, as my left wrist was pulled outward away from me; he had obviously tied it to a rope or something, and intended to tie my arms to my bedposts. 

I struggled at first, and he responded by grabbing my neck again, the pressure cutting off my air, choking me. I immediately stopped fighting, I let him tie me.   "If you cooperate, I won't hurt you, Caitlyn..." He was taunting me with his voice, making obvious implications that I could no longer deny. I lay frozen, as he progressed through each step: tying my other arm, pulling my pants down over my ankles and off, laying his body over my legs and my thighs. Each step, he repeated his appreciation of me, "So-o-o-o-o pretty....So-o-o-o-o pretty."

"Fucking madman!" I thought!

As he lay on top of me, he whispered in my ear, "Just cooperate Caitlyn, I won't hurt you..." He was using a soothing, softer voice, trying to calm me. Instead, my breathing quickened again. Being so vulnerable, not able to make any choices, being so helpless...he liked it, and was getting turned on by it.

So was I. Yet I fought to not let it show.  "I won't hurt you..." he repeated, as he traced the form of my legs with his rough hands. "This is what ALL you women want, isn't it?!!" He lifted his body away from me, leaving me wondering what he'd do next. Then I felt his knees under my armpits, pressing the bed down on either side of me. "I want to feel those pretty lips!" he sneered. Then, taunting me, "Cooperate, and you won't get hurt..."

Resentfully I took him in my mouth, noticing that my tongue was moving over him, without me thinking about it. Realizing this, I stopped.  It took only seconds for him to realize my refusal to cooperate - this lead him to thrusting his hips into me, sliding the length of him between my lips. I tried to pull my head back, but he he pinned my head against him, holding the back of my head in his hand, pulling me into him.  He moaned in pleasure, "Mmm, yesss, I LIKE that..."

His thrusting continued several minutes more, before he lifted himself away from me again. "Yesss, eight hours till I have to go..."  He then pulled my sweater up, exposing my breasts. I felt totally and uncontrollably vulnerable. "Noooo, please," I whimpered, but he said nothing.  I was wearing a black lace bra, as I usually did, and he moaned in approval. I was terrified of him. At the same time though, I was fighting back waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I was very wet, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before he'd find out, and my body would betray me.

He then lifted his body off the bed, only to abruptly force my legs apart at the knees. I felt like I was going to cry. But I never could, very easily, and now was no different. My tears never progressed past whimpers.  Suddenly he thrust his fingers into me. I inhaled sharply and cried out at the shock, and the pleasure, of feeling him violating me.

"Hmmm... Do you LIKE that, Caitlyn?" He was playing with my mind, using my name to prevent me from hiding inside my mind, to keep the situation immediate to me. I didn't answer.  He took my silence as a confirmation to him, a sign of pleasure,  and began moving his fingers inside me, pleasing me, touching me as only he knows how. Wave after wave of pleasure flooded my body, and I had to fight not to moan out loud.

Realizing I was restraining, he continued caressing me, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm, pushing my limits of self-control. Finally I lost myself. Moaning and undulating at his touch, I was totally at his command. "Tell me you are mine!" he said. I hesitated. His touch became more insistent; his weapon of control was pleasure now, not pain. My resistance collapsed under it, and when he repeated, "Caitlyn, TELL me you are MINE!" I followed his order.  I was lost in the waves, on the brink of what my body so hungrily craved, when he pulled his fingers out of me, making me writhe in unsatisfied agony. He's teasing me.

The pleasure continued to course through my blood when I finally felt him climbing on top of me, preparing to thrust himself into me. "Do you feel that?" he teased, as he let just his tip caress my exposed wetness. His actions were making my desire increase, to mind-numbing proportions! "Hmm?! Do you feel that?" he insisted, until all I could do in my madness and desire was nod, writhe, and moan. Finally he thrust himself full into me, fast, then withdrawing slowly, repeated the quick thrust.  Within the depths of me, each stroke's hit caused incredible, powerful, thundering amounts of pleasure, his technique both teasing me with the slow withdrawal, and building me with the quick pressure.

He started slowly at first, torturing me and building me, but then began repeating his movements faster and faster, until I couldn't hold back my orgasms, or my groans. As though riding the crest of a wave, he had succeeded in controlling me even down to my climax, continuing the pleasure until finally, I could sense HIS approach, and he pulled out of me.

"I'm going to come all over that pretty body of yours now, Caitlyn!" he breathed. He then started pulling the front of my sweater up over the back of my head, fully exposing my chest and belly to him. It wasn't but a second before he was inside me again, pounding yet another climax out of me, and out of him. He demanded I lift my head, saying "Do you want to taste me? Lift that pretty head up and open your mouth!"

As he came, he backed up, spraying hot liquid over my breasts, belly, and waist, a spirt of his juices reached my lips. His voice showed his pleasure just as his body had, and he touched my fluid-covered skin with his fingers. He then told me to open my mouth again, and pressed his cream-covered fingertips over my lips and my tongue. "I might even come back, when this is all over. I like you!" he said. Finally he moved off the bed.  I heard him go to my bathroom, retrieve a towel, and start running the water.

With familiar gentleness, he returned to me and cleaned my body, untied my bonds, and laid next to me. Then he removed my blindfold. Blinking, I had some difficulty re-adjusting my eyes to the light of the room. I looked at my captor, his gentle smile, his glittering eyes, his wavy hair. 

"So does this mean you have to kill me now, now that I've seen you?"  I smiled.

He smiled back. "This means I'm curling up next to you and going to SLEEP!" my love replied.