Posted by AlOmega on April 26, 1999 at 15:54:25:
LAURIE
I’ve enjoyed playing on various IRCs from time to time. But there are things that go on
that I’m not privy to. People are into various fantasies and scenes. I’d sooner not do
that since my shyness comes through quite easily. But there was someone. Younger and full
of life. And as I grew to know her, I had a special place set aside in my heart.
Laurie was her name. Nice and pleasant on IRC, I enjoyed talking and exchanging ideas
for scenarios, for stories that I wrote. A joy she was to chat with. Of course I was not
the only one she chose to chat with. I’m not so vain as to believe that for a minute. But
she did confide in me now and again. That was why I knew......
The sound of computer keys punctuated the night silence. One lone, pale light outlined
the keyboard as Laurie responded once more to a question from someone on IRC.
Doing ICR chats - especially here - was her little secret. She had fantasies but they
remained that. Some of the guys were quite friendly. And she suspected she had
broken a few hearts but what did that matter. This was cyberspace after all - and
fantasy. She smiled as Alan responded to her latest part of the scenario. Something
about this place, this IRC, that thrilled her - especially in that secret space where she
loved to be thrilled. The scenario this time involved another death scene. She was to be
the victim; Alan the killer. She wanted him to rape and thrust a blade into her while they
were having sex. They were near the point where he would thrust the knife deep inside
her timing both thrusts together. She was beginning to feel that oh so familiar feeling
deep within her as the knife thrust first entered her. She was permitting herself with
abandon to feel the part of the victim because she was safe at home. After all this was
fantasy.
She had met Alan on-line about a month ago. He had suggested meeting in Real Life
but that she’d never do. Not now. Cyberlife was one thing; real life another. So she
had declined. Alan was disappointed but agreed he might have overstepped his bounds.
And nothing more was ever said. She had visited with many others on this particular
chat line. But none had been as intent as Alan. She often wondered why.
Fingers danced over keys as she responded to Alan’s latest part of the scenario. And
almost too soon, they had finished. There were times she wondered who Alan was. She
had asked AlOmega about him but Al had been reluctant to say anything. She thought
they might be friends in RL but was uncertain at best. Besides, even though Al was nice
in his way, he was no where as intent as Alan.
Well it was getting late, she saw as the bird-clock chirped another hour. She had seen
the clock and just had to have one. Owls, Canadian geese - each one chirped, sang, or
blasted out on the hour. Ten o’clock, according to the sound of the Tufted Titmouse.
Laurie could have shut the damn thing off but she was more or less attached to the
different bird calls knowing what time it was by the call it made. She was about to sign
off when she heard the faint tinkle of glass.
“Damn cat”, she thought. “Leave one little glass out was courting a cat-astrophe.” She
smiled thinking about how her pet would scurry out of the kitchen almost before the
glass reached the floor.
The darkened kitchen with its darker hidie holes was not about to be bathed in light she
discovered as she repeatedly flicked on and off the switch. Damn fuse box. One of the
circuit breakers must have tripped. She knew the way to the closet but since its light
was on the same circuit breaker, she’d better get a flashlight (or torch she remembered
a cyber-buddy’s term). She turned but immediately felt a cloth cover her face while a
strong arm pulled her off her feet. Helplessly she struggled weakening as cognizance
departed.
How long she was unconscious she never knew. But she was aware that there was a
man dressed in black with a mask over his face. He was on top of her cutting away her
blouse. Her struggles alerted him that she was now aware. She couldn’t only see his
eyes. But they were enough to frighten her. She felt a slight pain as the tip of a knife
cut her left shoulder as he sliced through her bra straps. She felt cold air playing across
her nipples as he remove her bra. Two quick slices of the blade removed her panties
presenting her nudity for his view. She tried to scream but tape prevented little more
than a muffled whimper to escape into the room. She saw his eyes and drew back
frightened at what she saw. Pulling frantically at her bindings, she found herself bound
so tightly hand and foot that there was little more than a protesting squeak from her
bed.
She was open to him in all and every aspect. There was nothing she could do.
Defenseless, she darted her eyes here and there for something - anything - to give her
solace. Nothing. No one. She saw his eyes dance in laughter at her antics.
He removed his ski mask. Though she still didn’t know who he was, the idea of him
revealing his face caused what little hope she had to wane. Why would he show his face
if she was destined to live. There was one slim chance. She wouldn’t get out of being
raped. So if she could give him everything she could - make him feel the best he could,
maybe she could survive. And as she thought on this, she experienced the same
feelings she had felt on-line. Her nipples began hardening and other places more
private began feeling more reactive. But she saw him toying with the knife and that
bothered her more than she cared to admit. Not moments before, she had been on-line
on IRC with Alan. And they had engaged in a scenario with a knife. She was as helpless
then as now. When he tossed the knife away, she gave a sigh of relief - at least as much
of a sigh as one could with tape over their mouth.
He handled her breasts roughly pinching nipples way to hard, too tightly. Rough fingers
seized her breasts in grips of iron. She would have bruises from that, she knew - if she
survived. There was no pleasure but pain and dominance. He must have been aroused
quickly for his pants were tight within seconds of touching her. He disappeared from
view. Who was he?
Then he reappeared
To her trepidation, he now added terror as he reappeared twisting a scarf in his hands.
She watched dumfounded as he casually turned the scarf in his hands smiling as he saw
the terror build. Her eyes went from the scarf to his face and back to the twisting scarf
knowing that soon, very soon, the scarf would be tightened about her slim neck. But it
was the anticipation - his prolonging of her death that frightened her. He was enjoying
this! But she was helpless to prevent her own death. She whimpered. She screamed.
But the tape restricted her too much for the sound to travel beyond the room. So she
suffered as more and more horror and panic pushed logic from her brain. Almost as an
afterthought, the scarf was wrapped around her slim neck. She was bucking as hard as
she could - and the scarf had not been tightened yet. Then she stopped and looked
into his eyes - those steel, smiling eyes that had frightened her from the first. She
almost didn’t feel the scarf remove the source of oxygen from her lungs. Nearly she let
him strangle her without a fight. Nearly. Then she fought with all her might and life.
But bound as she was, there could be only one end. The clouds of red and black
hovering at the edge of her vision came closer and closer obliterating her vision so that
one by one close objects faded from view. Her last vision was of grim, smiling eye
drinking in the terror of her death. And she remembered little more as the darkness
took her.
But only for a time as slowly she regained consciousness. The evil twisted scarf - the
implement of death - was no longer tight about her neck. Though in pain, nothing
touched her neck. Turning her head painfully to the right, she saw the ugly scarf lying
on the night stand. And she felt the horrible tape no longer covered her mouth. That
was when she felt him on top, his weight bearing down as he began working his hard
shaft within the folds of her womanhood. Slowly he drew in and out as she accepted
him. It was rape but it was something she seemed to want, to need, to demand. The
pain of her near death experience filled her with something she had never felt before.
And with time to think and without the debasing terror crowding out her thoughts, she
remembered what Alan had told her on IRC. She started rocking with him, giving herself
to the experience. Though painful, there was something here that she had never felt
before. Something that should be taken in small doses or she would not survive the
experience.
He was still rough with her. His need overshadowed hers. His fingers bit into her
breasts leaving fingermarks in their soft surfaces. Then he removed his fingers as her
passions, his passions built. Then they returned once again. Tightly.
On her throat.
This time she knew she was going to die. Tightly as if forever - her forever, he dug
cruel fingers into the soft country of her throat. Like an Impressionist painter, he played
unmerciful brush strokes over the softness of her neck. She was forced to arc her head
back as he pressed even harder almost losing his thumbnails into the furrows created in
her neck. Her mouth was open in a silent scream as her tongue searched for air to
relieve the pain in her chest and lungs - pain that was worse than the pain now crushing
her windpipe. He worked as her face began to darken. Veins erupted at the sides of her
face and on her forehead threatening to burst. Her lovely eyes impossibly huge from
the pressure building in her sinus cavities threatened to burst from her skull. The
clouds of death hovered over her. This she knew as much as when his passion ended.
And at this last moment - last second - of her life, she realized she had acted out this
scene with Alan nearly a month before. Her last thought was how had this stranger
known.
********************************************************
He felt her surrender to death as he released himself within her. At the same time her
own orgasmic climax erupted with his. Her fantasy was fulfilled, he thought smiling
once again. He rose and began dressing. She looks so beautiful, he thought. She
should have met him earlier and maybe it wouldn’t have come to this. Or maybe not.
He could never be sure. Meeting her in IRC was a surprise. He was looking for someone
and she fit his profile. Laurie had not realize how easily it was to track someone down
on IRC. There were always trails and tracks if one knew where to look. He had always let
her leave first so it wasn’t hard to determine where she was. And this was that climax.
He had stalked her for the last four weeks watching her every movement. It hadn’t been
hard to lead her from one scene to another. And she never knew he used a portable
machine - computer and modem - when he called. He smiled looking down at her
naked body. The Necropainter was always proud of his handiwork. The fingerstrokes
on her innocent body looked wonderful.
Alan took two pictures - only two - for his scrapbook. As he closed the door, he failed
to hear the Great Horned Owl hoot midnight. Nor did Laurie. It was just another sound
she would never hear again.