The Bull

marauder13

a lecherous old bastard
Joined
Mar 8, 2009
Posts
7,322
[OOC : This is a closed thread. Reader Warning : This thread will contain material that some people may find offensive and not to their liking. Those of you that are not offended, then I hope you enjoy this tale.]

Special Agent William Frants walked over to the police tape confidently. His regulation suit told everyone that he was an FBI agent, but he still showed his badge to the officer by the tape. The younger uniformed policeman raised the tape allowing William to pass without breaking his stride.

He scanned the normal crowd of law enforcement personnel on site, seeking one fellow in particular. Once found, he moved over with the same stride as before until he stood beside the other man.

"Bob."

"Bill."

"Impressive."

"Unfortunately."

The two men stood before a pile of twisted metal, broken glass and other materials that hinted at the type of cars they had been before attempting to occupy the same volume of space. William could make out four different paint schemes in the twisted, smoking wreckage.

"Got any details for me yet, Bob?"

"Five vehicles, seven confirmed dead, two more that probably wont see the next dawn. We literally got confirmation that it was him a minute ago. He gave us the identifier, which we matched as you pulled in."

"What did he do this time?"

The detective looked at the FBI agent, before staring back at the wreckage. He took several deep breaths before he spoke.

"A potato cannon."

"Hit one of the drivers?"

Detective Robert Ilses was surprised by William's response. "From what we have been able to determine, the lead car's passenger compartment was struck, the driver lost control, and the remainder were not able to get clear in time. We wont know if the driver was hit or not until after we cut the mess apart.

"So, Bill, your people having any success figuring this nut case out?"

"He's far from being a nutcase, Bob. He is very clever in what he has been doing. Our people are pulling their hair out trying to get inside his head. He appears, does his deed, the vanishes again with barely a trace. And what little he leaves us is close to worthless. No, this one is very, very careful, clever and plans his strikes with a degree of precision that is almost awe inspiring. He could have done less harm by blowing up a building."

"Yeah. We copping heat from everyone for not doing enough. When we do, the public screams about us being too brutal, messy, not acting on enough information. Victims' families are trying to sue the various government bodies. Civil libertarians are up in arms over our 'heavy handed tactics'. Geez, I don't know who I hate more. Him, or the everyone else."

"Personally, I hate him more. Mainly because the prick's just too good."



~||~​

The TV screen showed a standard news room, with a young woman presenting the news.

"Local police have confirmed that the multi-car accident on the northern freeway was caused by the Terrorist known as Taurus. In another daring display, he used a homemade cannon to attack passing motorists. The attack has left seven people dead, and another five injured, two of them critically.

"There have been continued calls for the Police Chief and the District Attorney to be replaced due to their inability apprehend what is now looking more and more like a single man. Even assistance from the FBI has not been able to slow down Taurus' persistent series of attacks on the city.

"As the death toll rises, people are questioning what Taurus wants, and how he plans of achieving his end goals. Current theories include that his is nothing more than a creative serial killer who has no real underlying motive for his murderous campaign. Others suggest that he is merely waiting for the right moment to announce his demands. One matter is certain, only Taurus knows why he is doing what he is."


A soft click caused the new cast to go silent and fade to black. Taurus smiled, knowing that he had again committed a crime that the authorities would have little chance of using to catch him. His weapon was something that could be made from one of numerous listings on the internet, using materials that were all standard, mass produced objects sold in hundreds of stores within the city itself, thousands within half a day's drive. Little about the construction methods would reveal anything that a simple person could deduce. He was skilled enough with his hands to make everything he had used to date.

His workshop was well stocked with many items he would use to carry out his attacks. Most of them had been purchased randomly. Never in bulk, always in amounts that suggested personal use by the home handy man. Other more specialized parts were stolen from businesses that suffered from a serial arsonist, who was also him. The items stolen were easily lost due to the fire, and no one was the wiser that the arson was simply another means of covering his tracks.

Years of accumulating everything he needed, without bringing any attention to himself had paid off nearly six months earlier. Then his war commenced. The Police and FBI could not stop him. Random raids, arrests, copycats that were filling their jail cells while the real Taurus continued to work towards his end goal. Even now, some people were taking the law into their own hands trying to protect themselves against him. Not that it would do them any good. He watched the news. He knew where the people were complacent. He knew exactly where, and how to strike.

He delighted at the simplicity of his approach, and how effective it was in upsetting those bent on catching him. He walked over to the laptop that sat alone on one desk. He paused, and hit the space bar. the screen went blank for a split second, just long enough to be seen, before displaying what he needed to know.

9 days
North East section
Home invasion
One victim
 
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Welcome to Alfredo’s”, Bridget flashed a brilliant smile at the couple before her. “If you’ll follow me I’ll take you to your table…” Picking up two menus and a wine list from the piles before her, the blonde turned and led the young man and woman through the tables that dotted the floor. It was a relatively small restaurant but that’s what helped make it exclusive. Fewer covers meant demand for tables was higher and there was nothing that boosted a reputation like being to repeatedly say “Sorry, we’re fully booked”. Candles flickered on table tops and there was a quiet hum of conversation. Music played subtly in the background and the waiting staff, under her watchful eyes, drifted amongst the tables, removing plates and refilling empty glasses without disturbing their diners. “Our specials this evening are a starter of scallops and a main of monkfish wrapped in parma ham and sage with a red wine sauce,” Bridget explained smoothly once they had taken their seats. “Can I get you an aperitif while you look at the menu…?

Bridget Sumner had worked at Alfredo’s Italian restaurant for almost ten years, starting as a lowly waitress and having swiftly risen through the ranks thanks to her people skills and sensibilities to become Maitre D’. She ran the dining room with ease and had built up strong working relationships with the kitchen staff to ensure that service ran without a hitch. She hand-picked her waiting staff, only choosing those courteous enough, calm enough, to cope with the pressures of the job. She made sure she looked the part, every night curling her long, honey blonde hair up into a tidy chignon, allowing a few lightly curling strands to frame her face and prevent her from looking too harsh. She had warm light brown eyes which sparkled whenever she smiled.

She kept her wardrobe, and that of the staff, simple. After all she was there to present the dishes not distract customers from them, or to distract male diners from their female company as she sometimes had to remind younger waitresses whose shirt buttons seemed to have trouble keeping closed. Fitted white blouses and black skirts were her combination of choice, pantyhose and pumps with enough of a heel to show off her slender legs but low enough to be comfortable over the course of long shifts spent on her feet.

Taking the couple’s order for drinks to start the meal, Bridget headed to the bar. Pausing to straighten cutlery on a table as she passed, the knife was only a few degrees shy of being straight but a few degrees off was not good enough. She returned with their drinks and took their orders giving just enough helpful suggestions to help guide them towards dishes that would compliment one another, highlighting a few wines that would go well with their chosen dishes and then wishing them a pleasant evening before taking their order to the kitchen.

Table sixteen, two soups, one monkfish, one steak – rare, with dauphinoise potatoes and a light salad, please,” Bridget handed the slip to the chef with a smile, her handwriting neat and precise. The order was barked out by the chef, a slightly temperamental Italian by the name of Giovanni. His family had been in the catering business in one form or another for almost fifty years and were incredibly proud of him for reaching Head Chef status in such a prestigious restaurant at the relatively tender age of twenty-nine. He spoke with a slight lilt which confirmed his Mediterranean heritage, assuming his olive tones and jet black hair weren’t enough of a clue on their own. He moved around the kitchen with an almost balletic grace that bellied his stocky frame and generous height.

“Are we busy?” He asked once the order had been repeated back to him by the various sous chefs that would create the dishes required. The kitchen was hot and full of overwhelmingly delicious smells but it was a calm and relatively quiet place. Giovanni ran his kitchen with almost military precision, something she and he had in common.
Busy enough,” Bridget replied, “There’s one more table due to come in but they’re already half an hour late so am not certain they’ll turn up at all. The couple at table twenty are in no hurry to go anywhere so I think a dessert order will definitely be coming from them. Given the way the couple at sixteen are looking at one another I doubt they’ll be sticking around for long after their main meal…” She winked at the handsome chef, taking a sip of water from the glass she kept near the door.

Bridget had enough experience to be able to read what most customers came in looking for. She could tell those out on the company’s expense account, looking for the most expensive dishes for the sake of it. She could spot the couples out on a special night, wanting to treat themselves but not break the bank. The couple at table sixteen were a new couple, in her opinion, hand holding under the table, nervous giggles when their eyes met in the candlelight. She would have to guess he had booked the table to impress and that they’d be heading home for something sweet.

“When will you let me cook for you, eh?” Giovanni leant on the counter that stood between them, a rakish smile curving his lips as his eyes made no attempt to disguise their course down her figure. She met his question with a quirked brow and a smile.
How about when we both get a night off together…?” She suggested, unable to prevent herself from laughing as he rolled his eyes and sighed melodramatically.
“But Bridget, you know we never get the same night off, in fact I don’t think you’ve ever had a night off!”
I have so,” Bridget countered a little hotly before struggling to give an example and continuing in a softer, almost apologetic, tone. “Anyway, I eat your food every night on my breaks, don’t I? I know how talented you are…
“But it’s my other talents I want you to savour, dear Bridget,”
The line was cheesy and too smooth but she knew it came from a genuine place inside the outwardly tough Italian.
And one day, I promise, I will…” She leant over to brush a kiss to his cheek before picking up the two starters that appeared on the pass and headed back out into the dining room.

The rest of the night passed quickly, table sixteen left within ten minutes of finishing their steak and monkfish. Bridget wished them a pleasant evening with a slightly knowing smile as she returned their credit card. It was a typical week night, busy but steady. No complaints, no problems. Her staff worked well, as the tips jar attested, and she would be able to give a good report to the restaurant’s owner at their weekly meeting the following day.

It was just gone midnight when Bridget said ‘Goodnight’ to her co-workers and headed home. Home was an apartment, modern and spacious if a little too big for someone living on their own. She jumped in the shower before tumbling naked between the sheets of her bed. She hadn’t turned on any lights other than those in the bathroom. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered paying the high rent on such a beautiful apartment when the only parts she used were the bathroom and bedroom, sometimes making herself something in the kitchen although she usually ate at work. Sighing, she rolled onto her side, drying hair trailing behind her on the pillow and let her eyes slip shut.
 
The key to Taurus' success was the planning. In the section of the city that was nominated, he had scouted out eight houses, and three apartment blocks over the previous months, noting how he would gain entry into each of them. A few of them he walked through on inspection when they were up for sale. He also knew that the owners of all the establishments would have made some changes that would mean changes to his overall plans. Still, he had the time to check his notes, and adjust accordingly.

He took out a coin. He flipped it high, catching it and slapping it down on the back of his wrist. With a simple nod, he found a standard die, and rolled it.

"Four. Let me see which building that is." He took out a large folder, and turned to the requisite pocket, and pulled out several sheets of of paper. "Ahhh, yes. Modern design, spacious with up to date security features. That's right, and razor wire recently installed on the tops of the fences. Security camera on the front door." He placed the brochure down, looking over his notes that he took while investigating the block. "Apartment 8B was for sale. But I managed to get a chance at reading the lock on 8E."

Taurus had managed to get his hands on one of the tools of the trade of locksmiths. No one knew that there had been a theft of anything from the shop, as the arsonist managed to destroy the building thoroughly enough that it was impossible to determine what was missing. He ensured that very few small items were removed, and nothing large enough to survive the flames went missing. Plus, it happened nearly a decade before so it was not likely that anyone would remember exactly what happened.

Not only did he get one of their mechanical lockpicks, but he managed to retrieve one that remembered the settings of the pins of the lock itself. Those settings could be fed into a special key cutter, and it could produce a key that would open the lock. What made it even better was the locks of the outer perimeter of the complex were set to allow a key that opened the apartment door to open any of those doors or gates. He took out the key he cut for 8E, closing his fist around it.

"Plus, unless things have changed, the side gate is unmonitored, and the rear door is also no monitored and only permits key access. Which gives me my entry point. There are no internal cameras, nor any other pieces of monitoring equipment." Taurus smiled and nodded. He placed the key on the table, returning all the papers to the pocket in the folder, and returning the folder to its proper place. Even the key went back into the pocket, to ensure it wasn't lost.

Over the next few days, he scouted out the target building, as well as the best approaches and good places to part his getaway vehicle. Once he found his parking spot, he then planned on inserting himself into the environment. People had such short memory spans for routine events, so all he needed was to fit in long enough to be forgotten.

With five nights to go, he commenced his acclimatization. Close to midnight, he parked in the small parking lot used by intermittent night staff at a nearby supermarket. It was well away from other places, and the vehicles parked there always differed. So a new car parked there was nothing suspicious. Plus there was nothing about to monitor the vehicles. He wore the same clothing each time, carrying his field kit as he would the night he would attack. He approached via the same direction, roughly at the same time. He stayed there for a few hours, down in the carpark, before leaving the same way he entered, and driving back home.

Finally, on the selected night, he retrieved the key, and double checked his field kit for the night. He had everything he needed to enter the premises. He would carry a spare change of clothing, some generic cord that was available at any Walmart in the country. He also carried a roll of electrical tape. In addition, he would have a box of latex gloves, a dark coverall suit that was sprayed to reduce fibre loss. It would also be destroyed after being used in the mission. He had plenty of replacement suits. His hair was cut short, and he would wear a skull cap to reduce the possibility of hair being left behind. There was no further need for any other materials. If he needed anything, he would simply use whatever was on site.

Before he left on his late night mission, he showered, using an exfoliating soap all over his body, and drying off naturally. He dressed, and decided that he would use his car, as that was what he used on his previous nights of becoming a local. Completely dressed, with his field kit, he departed to leave his mark on the city again. This would be the fifth time he would violate someone's home, silently entering their abode, and killing someone without the rest of the residents knowing until they work up, they noticed the unusual lack of appearance by the victim, or the neighbours complained about the smell. He still carried out his war, until he obtained his victory. Of course, they would never know what the victory conditions were until after they were fulfilled.

"No use giving them any ideas of who I am, when I don't need to. If this goes on long enough, they will do what needs to be done to cease hostilities. It is all a matter of time, and patience. I have waited this long, I can wait a little longer."

He drove normally. Not too slow, not too fast. Not doing anything to draw attention to himself. Even the extra police cruisers didn't deter or phase him. He had his story worked out well in advance if he ever needed it. He arrived at his chosen parking spot only a few minutes later than he would have liked. But, in his mind, he still had plenty of time to conduct his mission and not be seen in too much light.

Taurus got out of the car like anyone else would. He made a little noise, and casually walked away, the field kit slung over his shoulder in a backpack. He had earphones in as if he was listening to a MP3 player, but it was just a pair of headphones. All the while he walked as if he had gone that way hundreds of times, taking the occasional glance around of the sort of security conscious.

He reached the back gate of the target putting the key in as if it was part of a normal routine. The gate lock clicked softly, announcing his permission to enter the premises. He walked through, again, taking care to look natural. He walked into the building, and took the elevator to up to floor 8. He went straight over to 8E, noting the lack of light from under the door. Without pause, he inserted the key, and entered his next victim's abode.

He pulled down the balaclava and moved carefully through the apartment. He stopped in the kitchen, finding a suitable knife to carry out the planned execution. He would render his chosen victim unconscious, carry them into the bathroom, wrap a towel around their neck, before opening the jugular veins and waiting for them to bleed out. He approached the master bedroom, noting that there was only one person asleep there. He closed, noting that it was a woman, and from what he saw of her under her sheet, she was naked.

Taurus was surprised at his reaction to the naked woman. He was aroused by the sight of her. He paused, wondering if the arousal was connected with her pending death. He found that his bodily reaction lessened with that thought. He shifted to possibly kidnapping her and enjoying her body, and that made his cock harden swiftly. He had not had any woman ease his needs in years. In that moment, her life was spared, though she might not think of it in that manner.

He slowly retreated from her room, and prepared two lengths of tape. One for her mouth, plus one her wrists. Any other points that needed securing would be done straight form the roll. He took the pieces of tape back into the bedroom, laying them where they were needed. He then positioned himself for his attack.

He timed the placement of the tape over her mouth so that she was breathing in. He slapped in down hard, completely covering her mouth in the first pass. He quickly grabbed the arm that was uppermost in her sleeping position, using her sleep dulled reactions to easily roll her onto her front. Straddling her, he pulled both arms down, holding them in one hand long enough to get the tape around her wrists, holding them firmly enough for him to complete the job properly.

He flung the sheet back, confirming her naked state. He quickly brought her legs under control, wrapping the tape around her ankles, then repeating the same process above her knees. He then stood up, taking a moment to view his prize, and the latest victim of Taurus.
 
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The kitchen was deserted. The dining room was empty. They were alone.

A trail of clothes led from the entrance, amongst the tables, shoes in the middle of the floor. A blouse draped over the back of a chair, a chef’s jacket on another close by. A little further on a skirt lay in a puddle of black fabric on the floor and a pair of pantyhose trailed alongside.

In the kitchen a rustle broke the silence, followed swiftly by a giggle. Giovanni’s hands stripped her of her bra and panties while his lips tasted her own, kissing and nibbling on her neck, her shoulders. He was naked from the waist up, the broad expanse of his chest adorned with a light covering of dark hair that trailed down his stomach to disappear beneath the waistband of his trousers.

His hand took hers and he led her between the ovens and hobs to the long, wide expanse of stainless steel that was their main work surface. With ease, he picked her up and laid her down on it.

She gasped as the cool metal of the work surface pressed against her back, making her half sit up in response. Giovanni’s eyebrow arched mischievously before he produced a piping bag seemingly from nowhere. Bridget lay down obediently, biting her lower lip as the Italian chef leant over her and held the tip of the bag just above her skin, hovering between her breasts.

With the exact same level of care he afforded to every dish he created, he began to decorate Bridget’s body. Trailing delicate lines of softly whipped cream over her skin. Looping around her breasts, swirling around each one before crowning each nipple with its own turret of white. Bridget gasped as the cool cream settled onto her skin, hardening her nipples beneath their sweet coverings. Swirls and loops soon covered her torso, lines crossing over her abdomen to then skirt down over her hips. Bridget whimpered every now and then, somehow resisting the urge to move. The whole thing was quite possible the most erotic thing she had ever experienced, being the focus of such careful attention was so very sexy.

Giovanni piped the cream down her thighs, creating careful patterns down the front of each before giving Bridget a devilish smirk and changing the nozzle on the bag for one finer. Leaning close he began to pipe cream at the base of her stomach and down towards her sex. Tiny little swirls soon covered her mons, leading down to the entrance to her most intimate of places. Another rakish smile as Giovanni pressed the piping bag between her folds and with a whispered instruction not to move, squeezed the remaining contents just inside her sex. Bridget groaned as the cool softness filled her then gasped as her internal heat swiftly melted it causing cool trickles to begin to drip out of her and down between her slightly splayed thighs.

The bag disappeared to be replaced with a small bowl. Next Giovanni set about adding what he huskily described as ‘finishing touches’. Halved black cherries were pressed into the cream crowning her breasts and a few more slivers of cherry were added to the patterns over her sex along with a whole pitted cherry being pushed between her folds.

He stood and looked at her for a few moments and in those moments Bridget never felt sexier. With a level of care that surprised her, Giovanni hopped up onto the work surface and leant over her, kissing her lips with increasing intensity. She wanted to reach up, to draw him close, to run her fingers through his hair, to stroke down through the hair on his chest lower and lower, following the path it made. But she resisted. Lying still, wanting him to finish what he had started.

The kiss ended and Giovanni moved his head to her chest. His tongue began to lick away the cream. Following the patterns he had made around her left breast before reaching the peak and sucking the cherry, the cream and the nipple beneath it all into her mouth. Bridget cried out, feeling her sex growing rapidly wetter. He sucked and sucked, going beyond simply removing all traces of the sweet cream. Her nipple was throbbing when he finally took his mouth away. Bringing it up to hers to let her taste the sweetness on his lips and, to her surprise, the half of the cherry he pushed between her parted lips.

He moved his face away again and repeated the process with her right breast. His mouth was just about to capture the cherry when the vision faded, rapidly. Disappearing like the picture on an old TV, growing smaller and drifting rapidly away…


Bridget tried to cling on to the dream, she could almost feel Giovanni’s lips wrapping around her achingly hard nipple but it was ripped away as she suddenly found it hard to breathe. Her eyes popped open just in time to see the world moving around her as she was rolled onto her stomach. The pillow muffling the few vague sounds that managed to make it out of her mouth, weight pressing down on her as her hands were pulled down behind her and something fastened around her wrists. The pressure then shifted from upon her back and she realised as the dregs of sleep left her that it had been someone on top of her.

There was a rush of air around her as the bed sheet was pulled away, her body shuddering as the relatively cool air touched her bare skin. Her hands and arms now wouldn’t move as she wanted them to and she could feel something tight wind around her ankles and then again, higher up her legs, above her knees. It was all so confusing, so strange. Her heart rate had trebled in the last few seconds, speeding up further still as she pulled at her bizarrely unresponsive arms and legs.

She tried in vain to twist around, to roll herself over, moving her head from side to side, trying to see whoever had done this to her but the darkness and her position prevented her from doing little apart from what somewhere in her mind she thought was probably a passable impression of a caterpillar. Her legs were moving up and down whilst her torso undulated in an attempt to build up enough momentum to roll over.

She struggled on for a few minutes before conceding temporary defeat. Panic began to take a steadily increasingly tight hold over her, making her already quick breathing through her nose even shallower. She had managed to find out that something was over her mouth. The tip of her tongue had pushed between her lips to taste the sticky underside of what she assumed was some kind of tape.

Bridget lay still, trying to get control of herself. She strained, trying to hear for a sign of whoever was in her bedroom. Whether there was more than one of them. She was hoping to hear the sounds of rifling through drawers, of electrical items being unplugged and carried away. She prayed this was just a burglary. Somehow she knew that she was wrong.
 
Taurus was looking down at his catch. While he gazed with admiration at the naked blonde, his mind was running down options of how he would get her from her apartment. It was a major deviation from the norm, but he was sure he would be able to make it work. He gave her one last pass of his eyes, seeing the many pleasures she would give him when she got to her new home.

Almost ignoring her totally, he walked over to the wardrobe. He opened it, looking through the collection of clothing, managing to find what would be useful. A long coat. He took it out, and brought it over to the bed, dropping it beside her prone form. His next issue to address was the fact that she was awake. Naturally, she would not readily permit him to move her from her abode without some form of fight, and that would draw attention.

Both hands came down on her throat, tightening the grip in an effort to restrict her airflow. He wasn't afraid of accidentally killing her, because she was targeted to be killed anyway. He felt her move, trying to get away from him and his efforts to strangle her. He felt the hammering of her pulse under his fingers as they held her throat tight. The more she struggled, the more she would simply accelerate the process that was rendering her unconscious and potentially dead.

Eventually, her eyes rolled back, and he released his grip a little. She continued to breathe, as well as having a decent pulse. Taurus wasted little time in getting her prepared to move her out of her abode. He got the long coat around her, doing up all the buttons of the coat. He then scooped her up, getting her head resting against the crook on his neck. He managed to get her out the door without attracting any attention. Similarly, he got out the back door without any problems. The rear gate posed a small problem for him, as the handle was set back almost beyond his encumbered reach. For a moment, he thought he would have to change his plans, except for the fact that he didn't care if the woman picked up any scrapes or bruises along the way. After pressing her thigh against the corner of the wall by the gate, Taurus had the gate open.

The walk back to his car was uneventful. He cooed softly to the injured woman, telling her that they would be in the hospital soon, and that she was being brave. He didn't notice anyone looking at them, or even on the streets, but there could always be someone at their window looking out. To further reduce the possibility of attracting unwanted attention, rather than putting her in the boot, he laid her on the rear seat. He took a little care to secure one of the sleeves over her eyes to stop her from recognizing landmarks.

He made sure that he took a long way back home, including some double backs and deliberate going out of his way before he returned to his base of operations. The building was old, located on the grounds of a company he got access to some time back. A little creative paperwork, the building was left alone by the rest of the company, and assigned to the supply distribution arm of the company. He also monitored the internal workings of the company to ensure that the situation was maintained to his liking.

He pulled the car inside, pulling down the roller door, and casting the parking bay in near total darkness. He got out of the car, opening the back door and severing the tape around her legs. He roughly pulled her out of the back of the car, propping her against the side of the car, slapping her face until she awoke.
 
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Bridget heard someone moving, followed by the sound of her wardrobe opening. Coat hangers clattering and clothes rustling as someone rifled through its contents. She sagged onto the bed. It was a burglary, just a burglary. The panic that had held her in such a tight grip began to loosen its hold, letting her breath a little easier.

Then she heard something, something made of fabric, being dropped onto the bed beside her and then the movement of the mattress as someone moved onto it. The panic returned as she felt her body being moved enough to allow hands to snake around her throat. She made a strangled cry before their grip tightened and she tried in vain to pull free. Her eyes grew wide, nostrils flaring over the top of the tape that held back the screams desperate to leave her constricted throat.

She bucked and wriggled as she felt her lungs starting to burn. Her mind telling her to stop, that she was only making it worse but common sense couldn’t overwhelm the panic and so she struggled on until she felt her head growing fuzzy and her body heavy. She was skating close to that line between life and death and the strange hands choking her apparently wanted her to cross to the other side. Swiftly, frighteningly, she felt her body giving up and the last thing that went through her mind before she blacked out was the regret that she never told Giovanni the truth about how she felt.


SLAP
There was a sting. She felt the sting, but she was still groggy enough for it not to register fully.

SLAP
Another sting, this one stronger. A flicker of hope as confusion faded and the realisation that she was alive entered her mind.

SLAP
Her eyes fluttered open and shadows merged before her. Bridget shook her head as she tried to wake up her brain, wake up her awareness.

It was dark and cold. It smelt of oil and petrol, the air was more than a little stale. Bridget’s eyes widened, trying to make out something, anything in the darkness. Someone was there. They had slapped her, they were holding her up against…a car?
The relief of being alive was quickly swallowed up by panic and fear. Someone had brought her to this strange, dark place. Someone had throttled her, tied her up. Someone had been in her home.

Bridget let out a scream but the tape still firmly stuck over her lips meant little more than a muffled squeak was heard. She cried out for help, she twisted and pulled uselessly against her bound wrists and her arms it seemed were pinned to her sides by whatever the intruder had apparently bundled her up in. Tears glistened in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as screaming gave way to pleading. Her promises that whoever they were, whatever they wanted, if they just let her go she would do it, do anything, never made it past the tape. Her pleas not to be hurt never reached the person stood before her.

After a little while Bridget fell silent. Her heart thundering ominously in her ears as her mind ran at break neck speed through terrifying scenario after terrifying scenario. Why had she been brought here? Why had someone been in her home in the first place? What did they want? What did they want with her…?

The silence was now deafening. All she could hear was her own breathing, fast and shallow against the gag, and the pounding of her heart beat. The person before her had yet to speak, had yet to tell her who they were, why she was there…why she was still alive…and if that was a good thing or simply the beginning of something so much worse.
 
Once the woman was awake, he cruelly ripped the tape from her mouth, and flung it to the floor. He wasn't concerned about her making any noise. No one had come out to the building in years, and he was not expecting someone to start anytime soon. He pulled her off the car, taking off the coat that had kept her modesty while outside. When he was able to look on her curvaceous form, he felt himself harden again. The urge to fuck her was strong, almost overpowering.

He grabbed the back of her neck, lifting her so she was just walking on her feet, but there was little control over her balance or ability to control herself physically. He guided her through a doorway, into a long, plain looking hallway. He took her to one of the rooms that had not been used in any capacity. It would now be his playroom, where she would live and deal with his needs. He shoved her into the room, closing the door behind him while he went looking for the tools and other supplies he would need. It didn't take him long to find some material for a blind fold, a length of solid dowel, a roll of electrical tape, several lengths of rope and a rather sharp knife.

He returned to the room, closing the door behind him, and dumping everything on the floor. He walked over to the woman, pointing to a section of the floor where he found her on her return, giving her an 'OK' gesture. He then gestured to everywhere before slamming his fist into the side of her face. He took the dowel, dropped it near her ankles, and along with the tape, he created a crude spreader bar to keep her legs nice and wide.

Taurus then tied her up such that she was held bent over, while standing in the middle of the room. Her torso had several coils of rope holding her body up, which also held her arms angled up from her back. He checked his handy work, happy with what he had achieved with her.

He walked back to the pile of unused supplies, grabbing the blindfold. he quickly and efficiently tied it over her eyes, making sure that she couldn't see him. He took a step back, and looked at her slowly. He let out a soft, slow wolf whistle as he did.

His hand explored her possessively. He squeezed her in several places. He grabbed a handful of her breast, the splayed fingers constricting tightly to find out how much was flesh, and how much was natural padding. He grabbed her buttocks, squeezing them tightly too before running his hand over her exposed cunt.

He rammed a finger into her private place, his lips pursed in a silent whistle at the feel of her internal flesh. A second finger joined soon after, and he vigorously pumped her until he felt she was wet enough to continue. He pulled off his balaclava, rejoicing at the feel of the cool air against his skin. He shed the remainder of his clothing in front of his captive, letting her feel the passage of the air as the cloth sailed by. He dropped them to the hard floor, letting her hear him joining her in nakedness. He made no personal sounds, apart from the increased breathing cause by his arousal. His need.

He walked around behind her, giving her ass a couple of loud, hard slaps before he gripped her hips, and readied himself to violate her for the first of many joyous times.
 
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Bridget yelped as the tape was yanked off her lips. The delicate skin stinging and burning momentarily. She was just about to risk speaking when the figure before her pulled her forwards. She swayed slightly, her head still a little light from her earlier choking. It was only then, when she felt material being peeled off her skin that she realised she was naked. Her cheeks burning bright with humiliation. The eyes of the man, she presumed it was a man going on build and height, swept down over her exposed body and she felt a wave of nausea rise up inside her.

Please, I…” She began shakily only to be cut off as a strong hand curled around the back of her neck and propelled her away from the car and through some doors. She had little choice but to go in the direction he shoved her in. Her bound hands left her unbalanced and unable to stop him. The next thing she knew she was unceremoniously thrown into a dark, bare room and left alone.

Bridget’s breath grew shallow and panicked as her mind ran riot with possibility after frightening possibility. The man’s intentions were clear given her lack of clothing and the way he had looked at her. She shivered remembering the hunger in his eyes. She tried to steady herself, to calm herself. Tried to tell herself that someone would report her missing in a few hours when she didn’t turn up for work. Bridget was never late. Bridget was never sick. They’d know, her colleagues would know something was wrong.

Panic tightened its grip on her heart. What if she didn’t have a few hours. What if she was wrong and this man, this intruder in her home, had no intention of letting her see the dawn. Her throat burned as tears pricked her eyes.

The sound of the door reopening tore her from her worries and seeing the assortment of items he dropped onto the floor she decided nothing she had managed to imagine was as bad as what her reality seemed to be.
The man started pointing, gesturing to the floor where she stood. Bridget frowned as he mimed ‘OK’ with his gloved hand. Shaking her head in confusion as he continued to gesture, now pointing around the rest of the room. She had just parted her lips to say she didn’t understand when his fist crashed into her cheek. She cried out, partly knocked of balance, her head exploding with pain.

Sorry, I…I’m sorry…” She heard herself saying although what she was sorry for she wasn’t entirely sure. As her temple throbbed from the blow she realised he was between her feet, spreading them, attaching them to a length of wood. Taping them wide apart.
Then he bent her over and began to tie her. She struggled, she fought, as much as her pounding head would allow but he was stronger. So much stronger. Soon she was unable to move. Rope tight around her upper body and arms, which were now up behind her back awkwardly. She wriggled in vain. She was trapped in every sense of the word.

Then she spotted him approaching with material in hand.
No, no please, please don’t…!” Bridget began, assuming it was a gag. Gasping as it dropped over her eyes and robbed her of her sight. The darkness was somehow far more frightening than being silenced would have been. Then she heard it. A long, low whistle. It sent ripples of revulsion dancing over her skin as she realised the precariousness of the position he had put her in.

A yelp as she felt a hand suddenly grasp her breast. Squeezing painfully, but not in a sexual way. Almost like he was evaluating her. Somehow that was worse. Then the same happened to her rear. Both of her rounded cheeks were groped firmly. She felt herself twitch as a hand then dipped over her sex. That touch was different.

Bridget didn’t have long to contemplate in what way as a finger was suddenly jammed inside her. She cried out, her unprepared, dry, insides dragging against the unwanted intrusion.
Oh god, no…don’t…don’t do that…” In truth she didn’t know why she was still bothering to plead. He had yet to utter one word to her and that in itself proved how in control he truly was. He didn’t even feel the need to speak to her.

Another cry as a second finger was forced inside. The two digits were then
shoved brutally in and out of her. Bridget tried to fight her body’s natural reaction. She didn’t want to give him whatever perverse pleasure there might be in making her body do what she clearly didn’t want but to her dismay she soon heard the sounds that signalled her sex was awakened whether she liked it or not.

There was a rush of air as something moved past her face. Then again, followed by a muffled thump as whatever it was hit the floor. It took a moment for her to realised they were her captor’s clothes. That he was undressing, he was preparing himself just as he had prepared her.
Bridget struggled anew, whimpering as the rope held fast, digging into her skin as she tried to pull against it. Her fighting paused as her rear was slapped. The sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.

She felt him move behind her. Strong hands on her hips, the heat of his body far too close for comfort. Bridget knew he wouldn’t listen, knew that pleading was a waste of breath, but for her own sanity she had to at least try. She couldn’t simply submit.

I…I don’t know who you are…or what you want but please…please don’t do this to me…” Her voice remained level longer than she expected but it broke in the end. She continued in a desperate voice, cracked and trembling. “I have money, you can have it all, my apartment, my car…just please…please don’t do this to me…” Tears began to leak into the blindfold as the reality of the situation hit home, her last words little more than a hoarse whisper as she choked back her sobs. “Please…let me go home…
 
Taurus heard her pleas for him to not follow through with what he had planned for her. But he paid her as much attention as he was when he pleaded for help and was ignored. She was as much to blame as the rest of them. He had suffered much personally, so would she. But at least this woman would actually serve a useful purpose.

There was a slight pause. He was about to embark on something different to what he had normally done. He would have killed her, another victim of Taurus to baffle the authorities. But he saw her, and she awoke a need in him that he thought he would never have again. Could he do that to her?

The moment passed, and he pushed himself into her completely until his groin was pressed against her ass. He let out a sigh at how good it felt to be with a woman again. He left himself fully buried in her, enjoying the way the hot, damp flesh closed on him. He also knew in that time of enjoyment, he would not last long.

Tightening his grip on her hips, Taurus took her with hard, powerful strokes that caused loud slapping sounds to reverberate off the walls. He looked down to see where his cock disappeared into her lush body. Never before had he watched where his body and his partner's bodies met during sex. It turned him on more than he thought. It didn't take long before he felt the warning signs of his pending climax. Taurus roared loudly as he felt the first wave rush up his cock, exploding into his woman's body, filling her with jet after jet of his cum. He kept going, seemingly for ever as his body unloaded a huge backlog from his enforced chastity. Taurus stood still, his body trembling from the aftermath of his first time with her.

He pulled out his slightly limp cock from her hot confines. He looked at her again, liking what he saw of her, even though she was tied up. He caressed her cheek, feeling the wet of the tears she shed, feeling a fleeting tingle of sadness for her and what she had suffered. He walked back to behind her, and with a more gentle hand, explored her sex. He found her clitoris, and gently stimulated it. Light touches, gentle movements. A lover's tease of one of her most sensitive of places, encouraging her to get more aroused. He worked patiently, even inserting his thumb into her wet and sticky sex to find the other place. Between thumb and finger, he brought her to her personal crescendo.

Once she had rode out her wave of pleasure, Taurus kissed her forehead, then walked out of the room to clean up. After he did so, he found a voice distorter box. He returned to where she was still tied up.

"Listen very carefully," the mechanical voice echoed through the room. "You are living at my discretion. I was going to kill you, but you now can serve a greater purpose. Of course, if you decide to be more trouble that it is worth, your body will turn up somewhere in the City.

"This room is where you will live. Do as you are told, and your life will not be unpleasant. Disobey enough, and you will suffer. Disobey too much, you will die.

"I am going to untie you. You will leave the blindfold on. You take it off, you will die. Fight back, you will die."

Taurus cut her legs free of the spreader bar he made, allowing her to stand on her own. While he supported her, he released the ropes that held her in place from the roof. After about five minutes, he had the last of the ropes off her, and allowed her to sit on the floor.

"When I leave this room, you may remove the blindfold if you desire. Remember, do as you are told, you will live, and maybe even be freed. Disobey, and risk death." He picked up his clothing, and all the other material in the room, and left Bridget in a completely bare room. Taurus felt more relaxed than he had in many years. He obviously needed the sexual release, and if she behaved, she would provide that for a long time to come.

He packed away his gear, and went to the bedroom in the building, lying down to catch up on his sleep that he missed during his last attack on the city.
 
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Bridget didn’t believe her begging would have any effect and as she felt the man push deep inside her, stretching her unwilling sex around his impossibly hard shaft, her cry was one of despair. Whimpering as he paused, his length completely sheathed within her, hearing his sigh of pleasure at the way her sex tried to expel him, muscles tight around him.

Then a yelp as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips and he began to drive back and forth, taking her. There was no other word for what he was doing. Savage thrusts that reiterated her helpless position again and again as they drove him no doubt closer to his own peak of enjoyment. Each pounding smack of their bodies colliding sent fresh waves of revulsion through her trembling body. The ropes around her upper body and arms ensured there was no respite from his strokes, tears soaked into the blindfold and a few slipped beneath the material to run down her cheeks. His jarring thrusts causing many to fall to the floor beneath her.

Bridget fought a wave of nausea as he cried out behind her and drove as deeply as possible within her, feeling the heat of his climax flooding her body. She was trembling with fear and the pain of the rough coupling she had just been subjected to. The only possible light in the darkness was that the whole thing had been relatively short lived, it was a small mercy he hadn’t lasted long.

She groaned as he pulled out, her sex aching and sore. Tensing as she felt fingers against her face, jaw tightening as her imagination terrified her with the possibility this was far from over. But then the hand was gone and fleeting relief filled her. Then the hand was on her again, this time against her sex. The hand wasn’t harsh, far from it, it probed until it found her clit and then began to tease it.

No…no,don’t…” Bridget exclaimed as her body reacted to his touch. She felt the sensitive bud beginning to tingle and throb. She didn’t want this. She hated this, even more than the rape. That this man, this monster, was now trying to force her to enjoy what he was doing was so much worse. She fought it, as hard as she could, trying to blank out the feeling of his finger against that treacherous bundle of nerves. Then she felt something pressing inside her and her body clenched disgustingly around it. Fresh tears wet her cheeks as her body began to tremble, her breathing shallow and rapid, skin flushed, sex clutching greedily now at the thumb gyrating inside it.

Bridget was all but knocked off her feet by the climax he forced from her, if it hadn’t have been for the ropes around her upper body she would certainly have collapsed to the floor. She’d never experienced a climax whilst on her feet and the power of it was undeniable. Bridget hated herself as her hips bucked against his hand, but not as much as she hated him. He had forced her to orgasm but that it had been done so gently, almost lovingly, seemed so much worse than had she done so during the brutal rape that preceded it.
Then the hand was gone. She felt lips against her forehead then the sound of feet moving away. When she was sure she was alone, Bridget let out a quiet wail. She could feel his seed leaking from her sex, cooling on her spread thighs, could feel it mingling with her own essence that he’d forced from her.

"Listen very carefully,"
She jumped at the distorted voice. Heart hammering in her ears as the unreal voice cut through the air.
"You are living at my discretion. I was going to kill you, but you now can serve a greater purpose. Of course, if you decide to be more trouble that it is worth, your body will turn up somewhere in the City.”
Bridget froze, any relief at knowing she had been saved from death was completely quashed by the terrifying unknown of this ‘greater purpose’ he spoke of.

"This room is where you will live. Do as you are told, and your life will not be unpleasant. Disobey enough, and you will suffer. Disobey too much, you will die. I am going to untie you. You will leave the blindfold on. You take it off, you will die. Fight back, you will die."
She didn’t make any attempt to agree or disagree with his words. They hadn’t been questions, they were the facts as he saw them and she wasn’t dumb enough to try and believe there would be any use in trying to change his mind.

Bridget tried not to move as he freed her. Her legs threatened to give way once they were released from the wood that had forced them to stay open to him but Bridget steeled herself and managed to remain upright as the rope was removed from her torso, piece by piece. Groaning softly as her arms were allowed to move.
As he guided her to sit on the floor she barely registered the chill against her rear when she did so.
"When I leave this room, you may remove the blindfold if you desire. Remember, do as you are told, you will live, and maybe even be freed. Disobey, and risk death."

The clicking of the lock signalled his departure and Bridget yanked the blindfold from her eyes. Darkness surrounded her. She crawled a little, hands testing in front of her, looking for the door but failing. She moved back to where she had sat, the floor marginally warmer there, and drew her knees up before her. Bridget cried softly in the dark, her sex still throbbed, her arms ached, she had never felt so scared in all her life. His worrying words echoing around and around in her confused mind as she tried to think of any way out of this nightmare.

After a while exhaustion took over and, curling up on her side, Bridget fell into an uneasy sleep. The puffy lips of her abused sex still leaking the copious amounts of seed he had deposited inside her as she slipped into the relative security of her dreams.
 
Taurus slept well waking around mid morning. He rose, and tended to his needs before getting ready to check on his woman. As he washed, and had his ablutions, he thought back on what he did with her, and how it felt. The sexual release was good, necessary in hindsight. He knew that future uses of her would go for longer as the pent up lack was gone. From a practical level, he hoped that she would be more accepting of what he needed from her, and that she would participate more willingly.

"But tying her up, or otherwise restraining her... that's rather... hmmm." He felt himself get erect at the thought of having her so she couldn't resist what he wanted, whether she liked it or not. With those thoughts, he had the problem of which urge to deal with first. Hunger, or sex. He felt his feral grin that reinforced the answer he came up with.

He dressed himself in the one piece coverall, along with the balaclava and heavy work style boots. He grabbed a couple of lengths of rope, as well as one of the unused toys he bought when he thought of getting even with a prominent woman in the city. She had the poor grace to kill herself in a motor accident a week before he was to kidnap her. All of his purchases and planning had gone to waste. That plan was not one of sexual pleasure, but of revenge and torture. Nothing like what he had planned for this woman. The O-Ring gag slipped into his pocket, and the coils of rope were held in one hand.

He unlocked the door carefully, not wanting to alert the woman that the door was about to open. Desperate times made desperate people do desperate things. He opened the door, seeing the woman lying curled up on the floor asleep. He thought she would sleep long, given the terror she had been through, as well as whatever waking nightmares she may have had. Still, if she behaved, she would live. To his mind, she could be easily killed, as that was what he planned for her. Anything she gave him was a bonus, and a bonus he would use to the fullest.

He closed the door behind him, placing the ropes on the floor quietly. He then turned on the light, clapping his hands loudly to wake the woman up. Not hesitating, he walked over to where she was and started to roughly nudge her with his booted foot. Unhappy with her slow response, he lifted her to her feet, slapping her face hard twice, with the same hand to the same cheek. Taurus half dragged, half guided the woman to the centre of the room stopping her in one spot, pushing her down a little to emphasize to her to stay there. He stood behind her, his hand grasping her neck painfully. With his feet, he got her to widen her stance so her feet were a little wider than her shoulders.

He let go of her, walking around in front of her. He grabbed her arms at the wrist, and bent them so that her hands were behind her head. Satisfied that she was holding that position, he pushed her elbows back as far as they would go. Once she was in her final position, he nodded and took a step back.

His blue eyes slowly took in her form as she stood naked before him. He looked at the curves of her body, the way her breasts sat without any assistance. He liked that she was not thin, but not fat either. She had a healthy weight that he would enjoy making the most of. He let one hand sooth her torso, caressing the bare flesh tenderly. He wondered what it would be like to love her in a conventional manner, where they both wanted to screw the other. But for him, it didn't matter whether she liked it or not, wanted it or not. She would give him what he demanded of her, and she would obey.

He walked back to where the ropes had been placed, picking up one long coil and walking back to stand behind her. He grabbed one arm, and lowered it behind her back, positioning it where he would be able to tie her arms together. He waited to see what she would do. It would be another of the long series of tests to see if she really wanted to live.
 
Bridget’s sleep was less than restful. Terrifying dreams and nightmares plagued her throughout the night. Her abduction being replayed again and again in her mind. Although with the admission of her captor that he had intended to kill her adding that new, much darker, element to it. In one version he strangled her, another he stabbed her again and again. Each time she woke up with a cry in the dark, bare room. Shivering with tear dampened cheeks. When she managed to calm herself down and fall back to sleep, fresh and equally scary images filled her head. When at last her mind ran out of ideas to frighten her with, she fell into sleep.

She heard the claps somewhere in the distance, twitching, trying in vain to cling onto sleep. Groaning as she felt a boot pushing at her side, less then delicately. Wincing as she opened her eyes to the unexpected brightness of the light, Bridget tried to get up. Muscles ached from sleeping on the floor, aching from the position he had bound her in the previous evening. Obviously she wasn’t quick enough. In one movement she was on her feet and before she could react her cheek exploded with pain. And then again. Bridget made a strange strangled combination of a gasp and a yelp as he manoeuvred her to the centre of the room. She wanted to press her palm to her cheek, she wanted to rub at the tears threatening to fall from her eyes, but she didn’t. His words from the previous night and the grip, unyielding and strong on the back of her neck, convinced her arms to stay by her sides. She blinked furiously, determined not to cry, as he shifted her feet on the floor. Parting them. Widening them.

His boots were loud on the floor as he moved from behind her, Bridget forced herself not to look at the floor. Instead focusing on a crack in the far wall. She tensed momentarily as he moved her arms, lifting and bending them. Then pushing them back. She winced from discomfort and embarrassment as this new position arched her back slightly, pushing out her chest, almost presenting it to him.

Bridget tried not to look at him but she couldn’t help it. For the first time she had the awareness to look at the man who had stolen her away from the real world. He was taller than her, broad shoulders. It was hard to gauge anything more detailed given the shapeless jumpsuit he wore. The balaclava kept his hair, his face a mystery but his eyes. Those she could see were bright blue as they moved over her body. She wanted to see something there to give her hope. Something like regret or compassion. All she saw was something akin to approval and, more worryingly, hunger.

Her eyes shot back up to the crack in the wall as his hand grazed her skin, muscles tensing beneath her flesh wherever his hand travelled. It was only when he moved away that Bridget noticed the ropes he had left on the floor. Her heart beginning to race, thumping ominously in her ears as he walked back behind her. She bit her tongue against making a sound as he pulled one arm down behind her back, centering it. Then he paused. Her other arm was still up in the air, hand hovering behind her head. Bridget held her breath. A ball of tension starting to build and spread in her stomach. What had he stopped for?

She quickly thought back through what had happened since he entered the room. She had done all he had directed, the worry that she might have gone against his express orders eased slightly.

Remember, do as you are told, you will live, and maybe even be freed. Disobey, and risk death.

His words ran through her mind once more, focusing on the hope within them. Do as he told her and she might be freed. Tensing her jaw against a whimper, Bridget slowly lowered her hand from behind her head and placed it behind her back. Crossing it over the one he held at the wrists. She closed her eyes and felt hot tears leak from beneath her lids. She hated herself for doing it. But not as much as she hated him.

As she stood before him, Bridget kept repeating the same thought through her head, if she did what he wanted, if she pleased him, he might let her go. He might let her go.
 
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The woman showed some intelligence by bringing her other arm down and crossing her wrists. He tied them together firmly, doing his best not to cut off her circulation as he did so. Once her wrists were secured, he used them to direct her to her knees, though still remaining upright. The rope was then used to secure her ankles together while being in the upright kneeling position.

He slipped the O-Ring from the pocket of his clothing and grabbed the blindfold. He walked around in front of her, liking the way her restrained arms made her chest a little more prominent. He dropped the blindfold between them, then used the freed up hand to twist one of her nipples fiercely. When she cried out in pain, he quickly got the O-Ring into her mouth with only a little effort from her struggles. He made sure that it was sitting correctly in her mouth before securing the strap behind her head. He then returned her to the darkness.

Happy she was once more effectively blind, he pulled the balaclava from his head, and undid the suit until it slipped down around his knees. His erect cock stood proudly, waiting to sample what her mouth, and more importantly her tongue and throat, would do for him. He put one hand around the back of her head, while the other hand guided his shaft toward the enforced opening. He fed his cock into her mouth, pushing her head forward relentlessly. He felt the soft warm patch of her tongue rub along the base of his cock until he reached the back of her mouth. He paused for a moment, bringing his other hand to the back of her head, then he continued to push it into her throat.

Her gag reflex worked brilliantly on the tip of his shaft as it sank deeper into her. He felt her buck and try to escape, but he held her tight, her nose pressed against his groin. He pulled back enough to allow her to breath, before filling her throat again. Taurus felt a rush like no other. In the past, he had great sex, even great oral sex, but this was unparalleled in the way he got aroused. Choke her on his cock, let her catch her breath, choke her on his cock, let her catch her breath. And so on it went as her throat worked him higher and higher until when he was once more in her throat that he felt the swelling of his cum about to be sprayed into her throat. He grunted loudly as he reached his peak in the woman's tight throat. He didn't care if she had enough air at that point, all he was concerned with was that she swallowed everything he gave her.

He pulled himself out of her, his spent cock slightly limp. His breathing was deep, and he looked on her with pleasure that she took him how he wanted. He squatted down in front of her, lifting her head so he could kissed her forehead tenderly. He felt relaxed and calm.

Taurus pulled her knees apart slightly. He probed her with his middle finger until he found her clit. With just the single pad of his fingertip, he rubbed and flicked her there. His finger rarely broke contact, driving her towards her own orgasm. His free hand took her under the chin, holding her up while she was being pushed to her pinnacle of pleasure.

He smiled broadly as he watched her orgasm as he desired it of her. But before she had finished coming down form the high, his finger slid down further until he pushed it inside of her. He pressed his finger against her passage, and finger fucked her into a second orgasm. He showed her little mercy as he drove her to a second orgasm in short order. He let her down onto the floor gently once she was finished her second orgasm for the morning. Taurus dressed himself, and left her alone while he went to satisfy his other need. Food.

On the way to get his food, he went to the table that held his laptop. He paused, and hit the space bar. The screen went blank for a split second, just long enough to be seen, before displaying what he needed to know.

3 days
Eastern section
Public Demonstration
Maximum casualties
 
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Bridget tried not to react as he bound her wrists and pushed her down to the floor. She managed to stop a whimper as the rope then looped around her ankles. Her heart beginning to race in her chest, nerves rising sharply as the rope tightened and she was bound. He moved back before her and she followed his legs, fighting the urge to look up at his masked face. The image of those cold, blue eyes still tormenting her, the hunger that had burnt within them.

Sharp pain in her breast caused her to yelp, a reaction she instantly regretted as metal was pushed between her open jaws. She tried, in vain, to pull back. Her arms strained uselessly against the rope but within moments her mouth was locked open. A strap ran around her head holding the metal object in place. Bridget winced as she tried to force her mouth closed and received little more than a pain in her jaw as a result. Then once more she was robbed of her vision as he placed the blindfold back over her eyes. Her breathing growing increasingly shallow and rapid as she heard the rustlings of clothing being removed reached her ears. The object in her mouth leaving her in little doubt as to what he intended to do to her.

Bridget tensed as his hand slid behind her head and pushed her forwards. The warm, solid flesh felt so alien as it passed along her tongue without having touched her lips. She was breathing hard when the head bumped the back of her throat and then all breathing stopped as he pulled her as close to him as was humanly possible. Ramming his shaft into her throat, her nose crushed against his body. She tried in vain to pull back while hacking sounds rose up from her invaded throat. As he pulled out a little and allowed her some reprieve she took an unsteady breath, then another. Her eyes watering but before the tears could even start to slide down onto her cheeks or run into the cloth of the blindfold, he forced himself back into her throat.

Again and again he suffocated her with his sex, she could feel her cheeks growing damper as her watering eyes overflowed time and again. Her chin sodden with her own saliva. She felt like an animal…like a thing as he used her mouth, for there was no other word for what he was doing. Every time he withdrew all she could focus on was trying to breath, trying to force some oxygen into her lungs before the option was removed from her again. His hands were merciless as they pushed her onto his sex, holding her with an iron grip against him.

A low noise signalled his climax seconds before his grip tightened further still and she felt his cock twitch deep in her throat. She swallowed out of instinct, fighting the wave of nausea that rose up sharply inside her as she did so. When at last he withdrew, she fought for air, breathing hard through her nose and opened mouth, face flushed. She felt lips against her forehead and shuddered in revulsion.

He pushed her knees apart despite her weak attempt at stopping him and groaned as his hand reached between her thighs and began to fondle her. She strained against the ropes, begging him to stop only resulted in garbled noises. She was determined not to submit, not to let her body give in to this man but her sex was already in the process of betraying her under the tormenting pressure of his fingers. A sheen of sweat began to bead on her forehead such was her determination not to be beaten in this horribly intimate way.

Bridget felt fresh tears of self-loathing soak into the blindfold as her body was wracked with an unwanted orgasm followed swiftly by more as his finger forced its way into her and began pumping back and forth. She shook her head, she pulled at her bonds. She would not let him do this to her, not again.
But she did. Trembling and whimpering she came a second time, body weak from trying to fight a battle she never had any chance of winning was soon swamped with overwhelming sensations.

Bridget was barely aware as he lowered her onto her side, the cool concrete against her sweat beaded face. She heard him walk away, leaving her in the dark, leaving her bound. It seemed he had no further use for her and to be discarded so completely was almost as humiliating as the acts he had forced upon her.

Bridget waited until the footsteps had faded from earshot before allowing herself to cry. Hating how her mouth seemed incapable of drooling down the side of her face thanks to the gag. Hating how she could taste him in her mouth. Hating how her sex now ached. Hating herself for not being strong enough to fight him. Hating him.

Absolutely loathing him.
 
Taurus sat at the table that he thought of as his dining table. He slowly ate a large bowl of cereal, thoughtfully munching his way through it. Most of his thoughts were rough plans on how to fulfill his next attack. Intermixed with those were thoughts of the woman locked in the room he had just left. He enjoyed the release she was able to provide, as well as knowing that he was able to stir her arousal to the point where she came. The more he thought of her, the more he turned his planning to how he would accommodate her properly.

He got up from his table, and went to the store room. He found a mattress and thin blanket. He took both of them back to the room where he left the woman to sleep. He placed them outside her room, then went back to the kitchen area. He prepared some fruit for her, then made some modifications to one of his balaclavas. He attached the voice distorter to it, so it was over his mouth. He tested it and was pleased with the end effects.

He entered her room with a sturdy plastic bowl of fruit which he placed on the floor. Not caring if he woke her or not, he walked over to where she lay. He squatted down, quickly removing her bonds, the o-ring gag and finally her blindfold.

"There. Food for you. Eat it quickly. If you take too long, it will be taken away." He nudged the bowl over with a foot until it was within her reach. "Eat and live. Live and possibly be set free. Don't eat, then you will die." He walked backward to the door, opening it, grabbing the mattress and blanket and pulling them into the room. He closed the door. He flung the mattress onto the floor near one of the walls, the blanket soon landing on top of it.

Again, Taurus looked at her. She was single, had been earning a decent income going by the apartment she was taken from. Probably someone who's drive for work excellence killed her social life enough to prevent a lover of some sought. But her body was well kept. She was healthy, and had enough of a libido for him to make use of. She was not a virgin, and her body reacted in a way that suggested she was heterosexual, or bisexual.

'Who is she? What did she do for work? What kind of music would she enjoy dancing to? What kind of intimacies would she enjoy, if given a choice?' The tiniest of snorts escaped his flared nostrils. 'Who cares what she likes. She will enjoy what ever I decide to do with her. Since they took her away from me, this one will just have to take her place. Whether she likes it or not, she will learn to love what we do together. If not, then she will just have to fucking well suffer through it.'

"Time's up." He closed on her, restoring the blindfold and tying her hands together in front of her, leaving enough rope to serve as a leash. "Stand. Time for you to piss and shit." He yanked the leash, guiding her behind him to a small room that had a toilet and a basin. He untied her hands, and roughly shoved her forward into the room.

"Do your business. Quickly."
 
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Bridget jumped as she heard footsteps returning and the sound of something being placed nearby. Every muscle in her body tensed as the next thing she was aware of was the feeling of hands on her bonds, expecting them to tighten, to change her already uncomfortable position to one better suited to whatever purpose he intended to use her for. But the ropes loosened and then left her arms and ankles entirely. She winced as the metal ring was slipped from between her lips, jaws aching as they were allowed to relax.

Her eyes narrowed against the light as the blindfold was removed, looking up into the masked face as the mechanical voice spoke to her.
"There. Food for you. Eat it quickly. If you take too long, it will be taken away."
The bowl scraped along the floor as he moved it closed with his foot. Until that moment Bridget hadn’t realised how hungry she was. Her stomach growled and mouth watered at the possibility of being able to eat. But she hesitated, certain there would be a consequence.
"Eat and live. Live and possibly be set free. Don't eat, then you will die."

With that he walked away and Bridget wasted no time in pulling the bowl closer and snatching at the chunks of fruit inside it. Slices of sweet apple and grainy pear along with chunks of banana were swiftly eaten. She sighed a little as the juice eased her throat and washed away the taste of her captor and his seed that had been lingering in her mouth. Once her immediate hunger was sated, she slowed her pace, allowing herself to actually taste the fruit passing between her lips.

Noting as a mattress was hauled into the room, along with a meagre looking blanket. Chewing the apple in her mouth slowly and swallowing audibly as the realisation he meant to keep her in this strange place for some time was double edged. Relief that he didn’t intend to kill her was tainted with the uncertainty what else he intended to make her suffer as a result.
She caught him looking at her and quickly focused her eyes on the fruit before her. Feeling her skin prickling under his gaze as she ate a few more pieces. A slight sound from him made her look up just as he began walking towards her.

"Time's up."
Bridget barely had time to swallow the food in her mouth before she was blinded by the fabric once more, a soft gasp leaving her mouth as her wrists were pulled and tied in front of her this time. There was an upward jerk on the rope keeping her hand tied and Bridget scrambled to her feet as he spoke.
"Stand. Time for you to piss and shit."

The embarrassed flush that painted her cheeks she hoped would be at least partly hidden by the blindfold as he led her…somewhere. They stopped soon enough and her hands were freed once more but the blindfold remained.
"Do your business. Quickly.”

Groping with her hands Bridget soon located the toilet and sat down quickly. Her cheeks burning brightly as she relieved herself, trying to convince herself that the privacy of the blindfold was at least something. At least she didn’t have to see him watching her.

In the back of her mind she reasoned that the situation, as horrendous as it was, could be worse. He was at least letting her use a bathroom and had fed her. She was under no illusion that he was a monster and that she couldn’t begin to imagine what it was he had in mind for her, but he had spoken of possibly letting her go and she clung to that idea with every part of her.

She flushed the toilet and, after locating the sink with outstretched palms, washed her hands before turning to where she had come from.

Bridget held out her wrists.
Thank you,” She said softly, reigning in her disgust, aiming her words in the direction she believed him to be standing in.
 
Taurus watched as she went about her business, relieving herself in the toilet and washing up after herself. He was slightly surprised by the way she extended her wrists towards him, and spoke softly to him.

“Thank you.”

Without hesitation or thought, he responded. "You're welcome."

He looped the rope around her wrists, leaving the remainder loosely bundled between her wrists. He gave her a few quick spins, first clockwise, then counter clockwise. He took the end of the rope, and led her back to her room. He unbound her wrists, and removed the cloth from her eyes.

"I will be back later with some water for you."

He closed the door, locking it and heading off to the work room. He checked the news and community sites to see if there were any gatherings that would fit his criteria for his next attack, or if he would attack the city's main park. It took him a few minutes to discover that there was a protest meeting going on concerning Taurus, and the inability of the law enforcement agencies to stop them.

"Hmpf," Taurus snorted. "They think there is more than one of me? I guess that I will have to reinforce that perception." He noted the location, and decided to go have a look to see what they were going to do. He stood up, went to the kitchenette and filled a large plastic bottle with water. He returned to her room, opening the door wide enough to put the bottle of water in with her. Without a word, he closed and locked the door again. He went and got changed into normal clothing, and went for a drive to where the rally was going to be staged.

~||~​

In total, Taurus' scouting mission took less than two hours, of which about twenty minutes was spent on sight. He had found a small alley that faced where a bulk of the people would be standing. It would be easy enough to park a small truck in there, obscured by some of the large garbage bins that were kept there. put in the back a small rack of rocket launchers, loaded with heavy, short range ordinance, he would have just the effect he desired.

Since there had been times where he had a long wait between attacks, he spent the time designing and building weapons he could use. So, during times like these, he would have a ready supply of weapons to choose from. The launcher tubes were easy - standard PVC tubes that he had literally miles of. The rack he would put together in about an hour, one that would last long enough to do what he needed of it.

The rockets were equally simple. A small black powder engine that would burn for about five seconds, at which point the fuse would be ignited to detonate the payload. The payload was literally scrap metal fragments and rat poison wrapped around another small explosive charge. That charge was demolitions explosive that he stole over 5 years before, and used sparingly in his attacks.

Taurus took out a sketch pad, and quickly designed a rough layout of his rack, including a list of materials required. He took the time to gather all the parts together and placed them in an orderly pile near his work area. He also started to determine where he would get the truck from, and how much lead time he would need.

He spent two more hours working on his next attack before breaking to have some lunch. He went and started to prepare some food for himself, when he remembered that he had company. So, he prepared another sandwich for the woman he had taken. He took the time to get back into his overall, and don the altered balaclava. He took the paper plate loaded with her food to her room. He unlocked and opened the door without any warning, thought he stood back to see where she was. When he knew it was safe to enter, he stepped in close to the middle of the room, putting the plate on the floor.

"Your lunch. Enjoy. I will be back later." Taurus stepped out again, securing her in her room. He went back to have his own lunch, while thinking of how she would entertain him next.
 
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All too soon she was back in the room. Her eyes were still adjusting the light after the removal of the blindfold when she heard the mechanical voice of her captor behind her.

"I will be back later with some water for you."

The door shut loudly and Bridget found herself alone once more. She stayed stood in the middle of the room for a little while, although without a watch or a clock she could well have been stood there for hours for all she knew. When she was as sure as she could be that he wasn’t lingering outside the door she moved to the mattress and flopped down. Curling her legs under her and absent mindedly rubbing her wrists where the rope had been. Her eyes drifted around the room, not really looking for anything specific, just taking it in. Taking in the reality of the world in which she found herself.
She held her breath for a few moments. Ears straining to hear…anything. A sign, a signal of where she might be. A hint of whether she was in someone’s basement, in a city, or somewhere more remote, more dangerous. But she heard nothing. Not the hum of traffic nor the stirrings of nature. All she could hear was the occasional bubble of air moving through some pipes that ran across the ceiling.

Bridget ran her fingers through her hair, easing out the tangles she found, pushing it back and twisting it around into a crude bun. Jumping as she heard the door suddenly open, wincing and pushing herself back against the wall before she could stop herself. But her captor never appeared. A hand came through the open door and deposited a bottle on the floor before vanishing from sight once more and the clang of the door locking echoed briefly in the air.

It was only when her eyes fell upon the water that she realised what had been left for her. All but scrambling over, she snatched up the container and sank back down onto the mattress.
She quickly drained a third or so of the bottle, feeling rivulets escaping the sides of her mouth and running down her neck and onto her chest. Wiping at her face with the back of her hand Bridget sank back against the wall. She carefully tipped a small amount of water into her palm and used it to wash her face.

Feeling slightly more alive, Bridget closed her eyes.
Time passed slowly as she sat in silence. In her mind she was making lists of things she’d have to do when she got back, if she got back. It had started with the most mundane of things, ordering a new box of notepads for the waiting staff at the restaurant. She’d then realised there would be new linen to be ordered for the up and coming new menu Giovanni was intended to introduce as the season changed. Then her thoughts lingered on him. There was much she would have to do as far as he was concerned. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she imagined telling him how she felt, imagined holding him, being held by him. For a little while her imagination took her far away from wherever she was, to a place far happier.

Bridget yelped as the door opened suddenly and her captor entered the room. She licked her lips anxiously as he strode into the middle of the room, muscles tensing, eyes wide.

"Your lunch. Enjoy. I will be back later.”

Bridget picked up the plate and took it back to the mattress, slowly eating the food he’d provided. Hesitating only momentarily before doing so. She did wonder if she should be suspicious of what he had brought her. Perhaps it was drugged, or worse, poisoned. But then the realisation that if he was going to kill her he wouldn’t waste time feeding her to do it dawned on her and the rumbling of her stomach grew too loud to be ignored.

Her mind returned to the restaurant and the ever growing list of tasks she was building in her mind. Tablecloths, notepads, the salt and pepper on the tables was in need of replacing, they would need candles before long too and she would have to talk to Giovanni about a wedding that had hired the restaurant. Giovanni. Bridget smiled, as she put the empty plate on the floor and lost herself in her mind once again. She would get back to her life, she would be free of this monstrous man and when she was, she knew exactly what she would do first.
 
Taurus finished his lunch, and piled the plates and cutlery in the sink. He stood at the sink, thinking of the blonde woman who he spared. The image of her in her bed came back to his mind. That very moment he decided he was not going to kill her. He felt the ever present tightness in his chest ease a little. The deeply frozen core of his being was melting slightly.

"Why? Because I love her? I don't even know who she is. I don't care who she is. She is here to give me someone to fuck when I need it. She has potential too as a fuck toy." He remembered how she looked tied up, unable to do anything but take him. He grew painfully hard at the thought. He turned and walked to the door of her room, stopping a few paces away. He walked away, heading for his workshop.

He started to work on the launch tubes, setting up the wiring and firing mechanisms to ignite the rocket's fuel. "Tying her up is definitely interesting, and gives me a rush, but she will need to know that there will be times when I will need her to take part in the fucking. I also want her to actually suck my cock rather than just be an open mouth." He worked his way through each of the tubes, double checking that he got everything right before moving on.

"She wouldn't be in here if they weren't still around. It is as much her fault as everyone else's. No one helped us when we needed it. They all stood back while everything was torn apart. Left me with death, and little more. Those weaklings can't handle what they put me through. Serves the fuckers right."

He worked on the base of the frame that would hold the launch tubes, getting everything he needed done sorted out after two hours of solid work. There would be another few hours to get the tubes into position within the frame, then about another hour to wire it up, an hour to safely load the tubes, then deploy them and await for the carnage to commence.

He grabbed the blindfold, along with a couple of lengths of rope while he put into the overall pockets. He put on his balaclava, making sure that the distorter was sitting properly. He walked into the room where the woman was kept, stopping inside enough to let the door close behind him. "Come here! Put on the blindfold. Time for you to piss and shit again."
 
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Bridget had dozed off, her back against the cool wall and chin hovering over her chest. Dreams of Giovanni and of all the things they might one day get to do if, when, she got free from the monster who had stolen her. She yelped when the mechanical voice sliced through her dreamings and caused her to stumble to her feet.

"Come here! Put on the blindfold. Time for you to piss and shit again."

Shaking fingers rapidly attempting to tie the blindfold around her eyes. She was trembling, partly as the result of being woken from a deep sleep and partly from the tone in his voice. Even through the robotic voice she could sense anger radiating from him. She winced inside as she sensed him before her. If he had done what he had done to her whilst in a calm frame of mind, God only knew what he'd be capable of if he was less than impressed about something.

Instinctively she held out her wrists like before, crossing them slightly, waiting for the rope that she was certain would encircle them before he took her from her room, her cell.

She could smell the scent of perspiration coming from him, he'd obviously been doing something of a physical nature. Her stomach churned at the thought of what that might have been, what it might have involved. She considered for a flash of an instant saying that she didn't need to go to the toilet, that she was fine but she held back.

Instead Bridget stood silently, naked and trembling, wrists outstretched and her eyes covered in the blindfold. She knew she must look a sight, her long hair had been wet when she'd gotten into bed for the last time and had curled naturally as it dried. Now, having been moved around as she had and without a brush or a comb to tame it, she could only imagine how 'wild' it now looked hanging down her back and over her shoulders.

Bridget wet her lips as the silence drew out, fighting against fidgeting, fighting against showing just how terrified she was. Although she suspected he probably knew regardless.
 
Taurus was pleased the woman was learning. She applied the blindfold with trembling hands, and did a good enough job of it that she couldn't see anything. He wrapped her wrists with the rope, spun her around, then led her to the toilet. As he did the previous time, he untied her hands, then pushed her forward.

While she went about her business, Taurus quietly removed his clothing, including the balaclava. By the time he was done, she had finished. He grabbed her wrists, tying them up again. He spun her about again, then returned her to her room.

Once in the room, he pushed her against the wall, then grabbed her bound wrists, pulling them up over her head. His free hand reached down, hooking one of her knees, and lifting her leg up. He maneuvered himself so his cock was sitting at her entrance, then thrust himself into her all the way. Once he was firmly, and deeply seated within her, he kissed her roughly. He raped her mouth with his as he shoved himself into her time and time again. He rode his lust for the blonde woman hard, and he showed her how hard by the way he fucked her. he managed not to groan, or make any other sounds of pleasure or enjoyment as he ruthlessly fucked her against the wall.

He kept going for a lot longer than the first time he took her, but when he finally came, it was the same large volume of scalding fluid as the previous times. His hips crashed into hers as if he was pushing the cum into her from the outside.

Once he has spent himself within her, he pulled out, and let her leg drop to the floor. The hand that held up her leg found its way between her legs, and started rubbing her clit. He pinned her body against the wall with his own, kissing her as tenderly as his finger was manually stimulating her. The two in unison worked to get her aroused, and ultimately peak. He continued relentlessly, behaving in totally the opposite manner to how he fucked her. His kisses were soft, tender, even affectionate as his finger softly danced around her little nub. He even got his breathing into sync with hers, letting her feel his 'excitement' match hers until she finally reached the reward he granted her for her pleasing him.
 
The trip to the bathroom was uneventful. Bridget tried to be as quick as she could and soon they were heading, she assumed, back to her room. They had barely stopped walking when she felt herself being propelled backwards and the wall smacked against her back. In an instant her hands were up above her head and his other hand was raising her leg. She realised what was happening a split second before she felt his shaft force it’s way inside her. Bridget cried out, the short sound echoing slightly, as her sex tried to adjust the flesh inside her. Her cry was muffled almost as soon as it started by his mouth crushing hers in a fierce kiss. His tongue was more than insistent, claiming her mouth, owning it while his hips made short work of doing the same to her body.

She could tell from the feel of his chest against hers that he was as naked as she was. She could feel his breath against her face as the kiss continued. She tried not to fight, she tried to let him do as he wanted, ignoring the sting of the wall as it repeatedly slammed against her back and her rear as he slammed into her again and again.

Her own muffled groans and cries were the only sounds in the room, aside from the slapping crash of flesh. He didn’t make even the slightest noise. That in itself was as terrifying as the force with which he was fucking her. But even that was different to before. There was almost a sense of need in what he was doing. Before he had been using her, almost punishing her for something. This felt like something else. It was hard, it was harsh, but it was different.

Bridget felt her body reacting, most unexpectedly, her nipples stiffening against his chest, her sex clutching at his without her bidding. Her cheeks burnt with confusion as her mouth even tried to reciprocate. Then his movements grew frantic and painful, ramming himself inside her as she felt the searing heat of his climax flooding her insides.

She was breathing hard as he released her leg and let her stand on her own two feet. Shaking more than a little. Then a yelp as fingers pushed between her thighs.

Please, not again…” She heard herself whine as his fingers found and began teasing her clit. Then a soft groan as his body pushed against her, holding her against the wall, and once against his lips descended on hers. This time the kisses were soft, almost caring. A lump rose up in her throat and her eyes stung with tears beneath the blindfold, her mind was so very messed up.

Terrified from what had just passed and yet riding steadily higher from his touch, from his kisses. She wanted to kiss him back, she almost wanted to hold him, her arms even went so much as to tentatively pull against the rope for an instant. Her hips moved with his fingers, her lips moved with his tongue.

Tears began to leak from under the material over her eyes as moans of a different sort began to escape from her lips. Trembling and whimpering, Bridget began to climax. Shuddering against his body, against the wall, her hips gyrating lewdly against his hand, her lips kissing him back almost hungrily.
And all of it making her feel so much more confused and disgusted with herself.

Th-thank you…” She whimpered, after she’d managed to catch her breath, her forehead resting against his shoulder.
Hating herself.
Hating that she’d actually enjoyed what he’d done and, even moreso, that she felt the need to thank him for it.
 
The way the blonde responded to his arousing her after their fuck caught Taurus by surprise. Firstly, just the feel of her when she came was different from the other times. It felt to him as though it was more intense, as if he had connected with her in some manner. The way her body shuddered and the whimpers he heard felt and sounded so familiar that he felt his heart stir for the woman ever so slightly.

“Th-thank you…”

The words were the final part that made him carry through with the thought. She had kissed him with a need, a desire that was not faked. Her thanks thawed the ice ball in his chest enough. He held onto her bound wrists, an led her to the mattress that was her bed. He laid her down on her back, carefully, but not too gently. He pushed her hands above her head again as he positioned himself above her. That time, he moved his hand away from hers, using them to hold himself up.

His mouth engulfed one of her nipples, along with a large area of her breast, as he slid into her again. He took her with slower strokes that were still strong and powerful. His lust for her was still running high, but this time was going to be a different experience for them both. His mouth sucked in the flesh, letting it slide past his lips slowly. He enjoyed the feel of her flesh, as well as the taste of it. Even with the sweat and grime of a couple of days, she still tasted good. When her nipple was all that was left in his mouth, his teeth got to work. He pressured the nipple, squeezing it firmly between his teeth before letting it pop out of his mouth.

He resumed kissing her as his strokes continued without change in pace or power. His need for her, even if only sexually, was clear through his deep thrusts. His kisses also spoke of a need, one that only a woman could give him. It was more than just the surrender of her body, but the desire for her to join him in the rapture that he was going to achieve. He breathed hard, the only noise he made. He wanted to desperately to groan, to moan, to tell her how fantastic she felt around his cock and how great she felt beneath his body. But he continued his fucking of her, trying to get her to her peak only by fucking her. But he soon became lost in his own rush to oblivion and the aftermath as he flooded her sex yet again.

When he regained his senses, he crushed her mouth in a raw kiss, riding his own peak down through her mouth. He lifted his head, looking at her blindfold covered eyes. He wanted to see her eyes. He wanted to see into her soul as it was laid bare after intimacy. But if he did so, he would condemn her to death.

'I haven't lied to you, woman. You behave, and I will free you, just as I have promised.'
 
Bridget felt him pull her from the wall, still lost in the foggy haze of her climax, she stumbled slightly as she followed where he led. Finding herself pushed down to the mattress and onto her back, arms raised above her head once more but this time the pressure eased from upon them. She could tell he wasn't holding them down. Another test? Another attempt to see how badly she wanted to survive this? It wasn't hard to convince her arms to remain where he had lain them, her body felt heavy and a little drowsy, unaccustomed to such powerful sexual experiences she was more than a little weak. However, it became rapidly clear that this particular experience was far from over.

She heard herself cry out as his mouth enveloped a sensitive breast, drawing the still tingling flesh deep between his lips, causing her back to arch up from the mattress ever so slightly as he pushed inside her once more.
Her sex ached, with terrifying need, with discomfort, with unwanted pleasure, all combining to almost overwhelm her.

His movements were different now, still hard, still claiming her, using her. But they were different, smoother almost, as if he was actually trying to enjoy it, enjoy her.

Another yelp as teeth latched around her nipple, making her sex clutch around his shaft and her fingers clench at nothing up above her head. The yelp was swiftly lost among kisses, his lips smothering hers and she found herself kissing him back although she could barely keep up with the conflicting emotions tearing her insides apart. Her legs somehow went around his thrusting hips. Her hips lifting from the mattress to meet each movement he made. And all the while her mind screaming for her to resist, to fight, but it's screams were being drowned in wave after wave of the pleasure he was forcing upon her.

Then, in a rush of hips, his body reached it's peak again and the hot proof of it filled her once again. Her lips tingled and throbbed as he kissed them, his movements slowing, his excitement waning. She felt him slump upon her slightly, her legs still around his waist, her heart racing in her chest, her body felt slick with sweat, her cheek wet with tears.
 
Taurus stayed buried in his woman for a few seconds, relishing the feel of her hot walls pressing against him. He pulled himself out slowly, the rubbing of his passage out of her giving him one last final wave of pleasure. He stood up, walking to where her arms lay on the mattress. He unbound her wrists, taking the rope with him. He went through the door, not saying a word. He went to the shower, and cleaned himself.

"She was responding to the sex, actually enjoying it. She has a fine body, well suited to good fucking. Next time, we'll see if she's as good sucking a cock as she is fucking one."

Once he was clean, he dried himself off and got some food for himself. His thoughts were drawn to two separate topics. The first was going over his check list of what he needed to do for his next attack. He still had to finish the tube rack, and get the launcher control complete. After that, then the actual rockets. His second line of thought was about the woman. She needed more food and water. She needed a shower. While he was a killer, and even a terrorist, he was not a monster who would mistreat his captive beyond what was absolutely necessary. Yes, he would use her body against her will, but he would not physically torture her. She would be taken care of, her needs met. He had given her a place to sleep, fed her. Now, her hygiene was a matter of concern.

Once he had fed himself, he donned his balaclava with the voice distorter, picked up the rope and returned to her room. He picked up the blindfold from the floor, and stood in the middle of the room.

"Come here. Time for you to shower." He waited for her to approach, then covered her eyes. Satisfied that she was again blind, he bound her wrists in front of her body, and led her to the bathroom. He got her into the room, and closed the door behind him. He removed the rope, then the blindfold. He leaned back against the door, casually watching her. "Soap and shampoo are in the shower. Get clean. Use the toilet if you need to."

Once she was done, he would feed her then get back to the main task before him. Making those responsible pay for their crimes.
 
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