“But then there’s no future for us,” he lamented.
“That’s not necessarily true. Not true at all. Actually, I’d like to get to know you better. You just might be perfect.”
Blind Passion
IT WAS PITCH BLACK in her room as Maria was jarred awake by the feeling of hands on her wrists. Efficiently someone tied her arms to the headboard of the bed, and quickly a blindfold was secured over her eyes. As her panic increased, a soft hand stroked her forehead. “Do not be alarmed. I understand that this all feels very scary, but I want only pleasure for you.”
Maria tried to concentrate on the calm, soothing voice, but despite the reassurances, her heart pounded and her breathing accelerated. The hand was so relaxing, gently caressing her temples and then her cheeks, but her arms couldn’t move and she couldn’t see. “Wh-what do you want?” she managed to say, her voice squeaky and quavering.
“Only your pleasure, as I told you. Please, try to relax. I assure you that it will be wonderful.”
She tried not to cry. “Why have you assaulted me like this?”
“Assaulted? No. Never. We have our reasons for needing you like this. I want to say that you should trust me, but I know you cannot.”
“Trust you?” Maria almost shrieked. “Trust you?” Her laugh was almost hysterical, yet the hand on her face continued to soothe.
“I know,” the man said. “I understand. It will take some time for you to accept that I mean you no harm.”
Maria tried to quell the panic inside her. She was bound and blindfolded…yet comforted somehow. It made no sense. She felt the covers pulled off the bed, and she realized that the man could see her body through the short baby-doll pajama top she wore. “You are truly lovely,” the man said. “It will be a pleasure to make you come alive.”
“Come alive?” What the hell did that mean?
“Just try to relax as I said. You will soon understand everything.”
What was there to understand? She was helpless, incapable of resisting anything he wanted to do to her. The hand stroking her face was so soft, caressing, but she couldn’t succumb. She couldn’t allow herself to relax and be raped. That was surely what was going to happen. Rape. By some unknown, unseen stranger.
Maria had always had rape fantasies, but this wasn’t a fantasy, this was a real, disgusting assault. Yet the hand was so soft and was joined by a second one, touching her fingers and her palms as they were held incapable of moving in their bindings.
“I am so sorry it has to be like this,” he said. “I know it is so frightening.” He sighed, and somehow Maria almost felt sorry for him.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “You say you’re sorry that it has to be like this, so don’t do it.”
“I am afraid it has to be,” he said, his voice sounding almost sad. “But in the end, you will see how wonderful it will be.”
Then Maria felt a soft kiss on her forehead, gentle, feather-soft like a mother’s good-night kiss. The hands and the mouth combined to make her feel treasured, cosseted. As the lips neared her mouth, she almost parted her lips to receive the loving kiss. But she couldn’t. This was so horrible.
Yet it wasn’t really. How could she be of two minds like this, her brain screamed. You’re being raped, yet somehow she felt that it was an act of love. “Just enjoy it,” he said. “You have no choice, after all, so you might as well.”
He had a point. Since she had no choices, why not just roll with things and see what happened? She should try to gather data for the police. She couldn’t see anything, but what did she hear, or smell. She could stop fighting the inevitable and just go with it. She relaxed the muscles in her arms. Yes, she wouldn’t fight, just gather information.
“Oh yes,” he said, “that is so much better.”
Learn. “Do you have a name?” Did he have an accent of some kind? That would be helpful.
“You can call me Joe.” There were faint rustling sounds, and she felt him settle onto the bed beside her. “I would like to kiss you, but only when you are ready.” He stroked a finger over her closed lips.
She felt her mouth open, almost of its own volition, and his finger touched her teeth. No one in her sexual past had ever been so tender, so loving. She’d been with lots of men, after all. She was almost twenty-five. But this was a first. Too bad she couldn’t give in to it all. Could she? No. She was just finding out all the information she could. Right? Lips brushed hers, tentative yet sensual. She let out a long, low sigh, slowly flowing into the embrace. And it was better than any kiss she had ever had. This guy’s a great kisser, she thought as her mind fuzzed. His tongue tentatively touched hers, tasting and learning what pleased her. Giving. She could no more help returning the magical kiss than she could stop breathing. She angled her head to better taste him in return, and his gentle hands cupped her face then tangled in her hair.
On and on. The kiss continued and quickly became her whole world. Was this wrong? It couldn’t be. Not something so beautiful. The mouth began to wander, to her neck, her ears, her shoulders. He licked and caressed her throat and the tender hollow at the base. He slid his tongue down the pulse in her neck, and Maria felt it quicken, not in fear but in erotic enjoyment.
“Oh,” she moaned, unable to control the feelings of pleasure as Joe’s mouth found all the places that made her want. His mouth kissed its way down her breastbone as his hands caressed her sides. She heard a ripping sound, then her pajamas were gone.
“So lovely,” Joe said.
She wasn’t, and she knew it. She was almost thirty pounds overweight and was so afraid of the sun that she was pasty white all over. She knew that her saggy breasts were large, and that’s what usually attracted the men she dated, and slowly, as they got to know her, not only did they want her body, but they genuinely liked her. But beautiful? Not!
A finger pressed against her lips. “A woman enjoying passion is always beautiful, so do not argue.”
She sighed and swallowed the words she had been about to utter.
“Your breasts are soft and so white. They almost glow in the moonlight.”
Moonlight. Joe had obviously opened the drapes. She had wondered why no light came through the fabric of the blindfold, and now she understood. The room was lit only by the moon.
Soft hands stroked the soft flesh at the sides of her breasts, swirling toward her now-erect nipples, yet not touching them. She heard a groan and realized that the sound had come from deep within her. Please, she screamed in her mind. Oh God, please. But she couldn’t say it aloud. She couldn’t admit that some rapist was giving her more pleasure than she had ever experienced before.
Then there was a mouth on her left breast, suckling at her nipple. Shards of ecstasy knifed through her, shooting from her breast to the hidden world between her legs. She felt her nether lips swell and moisten, opening for her lover. Lover? Her rapist. The rapist she wanted so desperately now.
Suddenly there was a mouth on her other breast. A second set of talented lips nursed and pulled at her nipple. There were two men. “No,” she cried. “It’s obscene.”
The mouths continued, heedless of her protests. “No.” And yet it became more and more difficult to object, the pleasure was so great.
“Yes, accept,” Joe said.
But there were still two mouths suckling at her breasts so there had to be three men. Three? She couldn’t think. This was some kind of gang rape. Yet…
Then there were hands. How many? She couldn’t count and didn’t care. Fingers tweaked her nipples, causing almost pain that further excited her. A mouth sucked on her toe. One nipped at the tip of her thumb. Fingers