Yummy Girl

My second victim…

I saw her in the bank, a new teller. She stood about a head shorter than me, the perfect height to grab with my hand over her mouth. She had long, dark, slightly wavy hair, and dark eyes, just my type.

I watched her walk from behind the counter to the manager’s area. Her black heels and stockings perfectly enhanced her ankles and calves. Her black skirt rode just enough above her knees to show a touch of shapely thigh. Each step stretched her skirt to suggest the rest of her succulent thighs and ass. Her white, silky blouse stretched tight across her ample breasts. My crotch throbbed. I immediately thought of her as, “My Yummy Girl.”

I immediately saw, in my mind’s eye, this young lovely bound with duct tape, ankles together, wrists behind her to draw more attention to her breasts, mouth sealed with more silver tape. I could just imagine her struggling prettily against her bonds, like a slow motion go-go dance, her dark eyes begging for mercy. I could hear her sweet gag music.

I loitered in line, fumbling with my deposit so I could get to her window. I read her nameplate: Cherie. She treated me with the prettiest smile, so ready and trusting. I complimented her on her name, and she blushed. I asked her a few questions about my account so I could take in as much of her as I could without seeming suspicious.

The rest of the day, every time I paused to think, I would see that curvy little body. I imagined dragging her off with my hand over her mouth, groping her silk clad breasts, her tender butt and thighs. I imagined her moaning and whimpering.

My imaginings turned darker. I saw her tied spread-eagle, naked, to my bed. I imagined raping her sweet pussy over and over, her muffled cries heard only by me. I envisioned her kneeling bound before me, pleading for her life as I made her suck my cock. I heard her choke and gurgle as I raped her mouth.

Darker still, I felt my hands on her throat, tightening, closing off her air, her wheezing, gasping, jerking under me. I saw a clear plastic bag over her head, sealed with duct tape, puffing and sucking over her pretty face as she bucked in panic. I imagined a length of electric cord, wrapped tight, digging into her neck, almost no sound, just her thrashing. In my dreams I fucked her savagely, without remorse.

I keep finding reasons to go to the bank, hoping each day to see My Yummy Girl.

I stalked Cherie. I found reasons to visit the bank, asking about different accounts. I even rolled pennies to deposit. Each visit, I would chat with her and flirt. She flirted back; so sweet and trusting. I could use that to my advantage later.

I spent weeks stalking her, learning her routine. I found she lived in a duplex near the college. She had the upstairs apartment. The first floor was vacant. Perfect.

I drove up wearing a florist’s delivery hat. I had a box of flowers with a delivery label from a local florist addressed to Cherie, and a clipboard with an official looking delivery manifest. My heart started to race as I climbed the stairs to her door. I took a moment to calm myself, and knocked.

She opened the door with a puzzled expression. She wore an outfit similar to the one I had first seen her in, but with a red blouse. When she recognized me, she broke into her sweetest smile. “Hey, you,” she said.

“I have a delivery for you; small world, huh?”

“Who would send me flowers?”

“As pretty as you are, I’m sure you get flowers all the time.” She blushed. “The card would say who they’re from.” I fumbled the box a bit, and stepped into her doorway.

She opened the envelope and read, “‘From a secret admirer.’ Ooo, mysterious!” She laughed.

“Um, I have to get a signature.” I held out the clipboard, and edged closer. “Boss’s orders.”

She signed. I leaned closer. I could smell her hair, wonderfully feminine. She looked at me with those dark eyes. She bounced on her toes, grinned, and sighed, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” I pushed inside, and grabbed her.

The flower box and clipboard clattered to the floor. She uttered a startled, “Hey!” before my hand clamped over her mouth. I kicked the door shut. I held her, one arm pinning her arms at her sides, the other hand over her mouth. She squirmed against me, and stamped her feet, trying to catch me with her heels. I wore reinforced work boots, but even so, her flailing stomps and kicks hurt. I rocked her from side to side to pull her off balance.

I dragged her to her sofa, and tried to push her onto it, but her flailing pulled me over. We wound up kneeling on the carpet, her pinned up against the front of the sofa, me behind her. Now she couldn’t kick.

I shifted my hand to her throat. She managed to yell, “No…,” but then my grip choked her quiet. She made sweet little moans and sighs. “Please,” she gasped, “please don’t hurt me!”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Cherie. I just want to get to know you better.” I pushed her face down into the sofa cushions, gathered her wrists together behind her back, and yanked them up high, levering her face deeper into the cushions. “Now hold still and I won’t hurt you.” She whimpered.

I had a waist pack full of goodies. I pulled out a roll of duct tape, and bound her wrists. I let her up for air, and pushed a rag into her open mouth. I finished gagging her with a few strips of duct tape. For good measure, I taped her ankles, too.

Now that I had her subdued, I took a moment to enjoy her. I groped her breasts, ample under her silky blouse. I clutched at her fine ass, her taut thighs. I let my fingers play in her crotch. To my delight, I found her moist. She shivered and moaned.

I lifted her and plopped her to sit on the sofa. She made a cute, muffled, “Oof!” I knelt next to her. She shrank back, stopped by the armrest. She gave me that look I crave, the pleading, worried look. She cocked her head slightly, like a begging dog, and whined through the gag.

“Struggle,” I said. I barely recognized my own voice, husky with lust. “Dance for me.” She hesitated. Then she began to wriggle and twist. Each move stretched her blouse over her breasts or her skirt over her hips. I paced back and forth across from her, just out of kicking range, and let her entertain me with her slow motion go-go dance: even better than I had imagined it. I pulled off my shirt, shoes and waist pack. She kept begging me with her eyes, and made little mewling sounds. My cock bulged in my pants like spring steel.

I sat beside her and reached for her face. She flinched. I smoothed the hair away from her eyes. I trailed my fingers down her tresses, to stroke her silk covered breast, gently, like a lover. All the time I gazed into her frightened eyes. I traced her curvy lines, down her side, her hip, her thigh. I slid my hand along her knee, down her shapely calf to grab her ankle. I peeled off one shoe and threw it to the far corner. The other soon followed.

With both hands I groped my way up her calves and thighs, so smooth and shapely under her stockings. I slid one hand between her thighs and caressed her warm, moist pussy. She squirmed, pinned between me and the sofa arm. My other hand groped her breasts. I put my mouth to her neck. Dark, fragrant hair cascaded around my face. I bit her just hard enough to elicit a groan. Her wiggles took on a rhythm against my hand. Her breath got faster. I could almost believe she got off on this.

I had planned to take my time with her, but my lust got the better of me. I tore her blouse open, sending buttons flying. I paused just a moment to squeeze her heaving breasts before pulling away her black lace bra. I pulled both the bra and blouse back past her shoulders to her bound wrists. I tore loose the catch on her skirt, and pulled that and her black tights down around her ankles. Now she sat curled next to me, naked from wrists to ankles. The whole time she moaned and writhed.

My whole body shook with lust and anticipation. I had trouble pulling off my pants. My cock sprang free. I stretched her out on the sofa. I mauled her with my hands, my mouth, my tongue, all over her sweet, sweet body. My vision swam, overwhelmed. I slid my engorged cock into her. Cherie squealed through the tape. I thrust at her hard and fast, totally lost to my desire. She grunted and panted at each stroke. I gazed into her beautiful dark eyes. She never looked away, but met my gaze with that wonderful pleading look. Finally, my orgasm burst into her. I heard myself make a loud animal sound, while she answered with a muted scream.

I pumped away at her until my cock emptied. She made little noises, half yelp, half sigh. Sweat slicked both our bodies. I licked some from her cleavage. She sighed again. Some of her hair had fallen across her face during our wild ride. I smoothed it from her eyes, and she gave me that look again. She tilted her chin and pursed her lips under the tape. I decided to take a chance, and remove her gag.

She gasped a few long shuddering breaths, then in a breathless rush, “Please, I’ll do anything you want. Anything! You don’t have to hurt me. I want it. Fuck me. Rape me. I won’t fight. Please don’t hurt me!”

I gently stroked her bottom lip. She trembled. I kissed her. Her tongue met mine. I nibbled her ear and whispered, “Anything?”

She nodded. Oh, those eyes! “Mm-hm.”

I smiled. She looked even more frightened at that. “Perfect.”

I made Cherie kneel on the floor. Hands and ankles duct taped, she made the perfect victim. She looked up at me with those big, dark eyes. My cock rose to attention, and bobbed in front of her face.

“You have a beautiful mouth, Cherie.” She grimaced. “You could make me very happy with your mouth. You know how?” She nodded meekly. I took a ring gag from my waist pack, and pushed it into her mouth. She resisted for a moment, then subsided, and let me buckle it in place.

My cock felt hard as steel. I tangled my fingers in her hair, and rubbed the head across her lips. She licked at it with her little pink tongue. She shifted her head to kiss and lick the shaft. I sighed. She kissed the head, then bobbed up and down the shaft. Each time she took more and more of my cock. I began to thrust my hips at her, pushing further down her throat. She gagged, her eyes grew fearful. She began to wiggle and pull, but I held her head in place. I raped her mouth. Each thrust drew a gurgling sound, “Ugh, ugh, ugh.” Her eyes begged me for air. Her hands flapped behind her like frightened birds. Once again, I saw stars. My cock pulsed away, spurting hot cum, overflowing her mouth to dribble down her chin.

I stood before her, shaking, riding each wave of my orgasm, pushing my cock down her throat. Her eyes looked wild with panic. I finally relented, and pulled away, trailing a dribble of semen. She collapsed on the rug, gasping and panting.

I decided we needed a change of venue. I carried her back to her bedroom, and tied her spread eagle to her bed. I used lengths of electrical cord, very strong, and virtually escape proof. She squirmed and whimpered throughout the process. Finally, I had her exactly where I wanted her, naked and helpless.

I undressed completely, set my pack on the bed next to her head, and knelt between her legs. I caressed them, starting at her bound ankles and working north. I tickled her pubic hair, and bent to lick her moist, fragrant pussy. She sighed, moaned, and ground her hips against my mouth. If she did really enjoy it, or only pretended to placate me, I didn’t care. I enjoyed her performance. I could feel my eager cock harden yet again.

I removed the ring gag. She licked her lips, and whispered urgently, “Please. I’ll do anything. I like it rough. I want your cock. Please don’t kill me!” I kissed her tenderly. Her tongue met mine.

She groaned as I slid my cock into her. I started pumping, slowly. “Mmm, yes, yes…” I cut her off by wrapping my hands around her throat. “Agk… no…” I kept pumping, and tightened my grip. Her eyes widened, and her mouth worked, like a fish out of water. Her hips bucked, hard at first, then weakening. Her eyelids fluttered, then closed. Her head lolled to the side.

I loosened my grip, and let her have some air. After a minute, she began to stir, and opened her eyes. “Please,” she rasped. I rummaged in my pack, and pulled out a length of electric cord. I dangled it before her eyes, and trailed it across her reddened throat. “No,” she whimpered. I circled her throat with the cord, then slowly pulled it tight. She repeated her little rodeo act for me, bucking and jerking as I thrust away at her. Again she weakened, quieted, and lay still. Again I let her have some air, let the cord go slack. She gasped and shuddered as she came to.

Time for the final act. I produced a clear plastic bag from my pack, and laid it next to her. She wagged her head back and forth, “No, no…” I pulled it over her head, gathered it at her throat, and wrapped the cord to seal it. “God, oh God…” she panted, making the bag puff out and collapse around her head. Each breath shuddered with terror. Her big dark eyes begged, pleaded. Her open mouth sucked at the bag. I pulled the cord tighter, and raped her. She made weak little wheezing sounds, almost lost in the crinkling of the bag. Her body thrashed beneath me, fighting for life. I pulled tighter. She sucked the bag tight around her head. I fucked her harder, faster. I hammered away at her, abandoned myself to pure lust. Her back arched in one, last, desperate heave. I exploded in the most violent orgasm of my life. My back arched to match hers. I heard myself roar in animal triumph. Fireworks, stars, galaxies burst inside my head. The world spun.

I held that way for what seemed like eternity, jerking my hips into her. Her movements lost coordination, just random twitches and flops. Her eyes stared up at me, but saw nothing. Finally she stopped moving.

I knew I would have to clean up soon. I began to shake from the adrenaline rush. I stayed like that, quaking and thrusting, forcing every last dram of cum into her beautiful corpse.