u/Bibliobabygirl18

Sara is not the type of girl that should be in this situation. She’s smart, and loyal, and kind. She’s modest but not preaching. She’s not a partier. She doesn’t get drunk and dance provocatively and end the night in a random man’s bed. She doesn’t do drugs. 

But sometimes, no matter how hard you avoid it and walk a straight line, the danger has a way of finding you. For Sara, it came for her on a breezy night in October, the dried up leaves scuffling across the pavement the soundtrack of the moment. 

There were things she loved about the city around her; the public transportation, the whole world somehow contained within these 5 boroughs. But growing up in the country made even the quietest corners of New York seem loud. Perhaps that’s why she strolled the streets at night in a carefree manner most women never manage- the distant hum of city life made her feel as though she was never alone. That and the unflinching human ability to believe that the tragedies you channel surf past on TV happen to other people but never, ever you. 

Sara is on her way home from work, stepping out Broadway Jct and into the night. She bartends in a bar in Manhattan. It’s not really her scene but she thinks her contrasting appearance makes the tips more frequent. She needs the money and likes the hours. 

As she passes the construction zone she assumes has just been made permanent at this point, she notices a man leaned against the fence smoking a cigarette. She should have turned around but she pays him no mind. After all, that’s the New Yorker way she’s been told. Her gaze swinging away back to the path ahead of her is the last thing she sees. 

Sara wakes up feeling groggy. Unlike in the movies where the girl slowly wakes up and realizes she is not in her own bed, Sara immediately bolts up halfway before her eyes have even opened. Though she has no memory of getting there, she knows exactly what happened. That man had taken her. She looks around. And put her in a dirty basement it seems. The only things in the room she sees is a bright overhead light, some sort of weird lounge chair, and the mattress she is currently sitting on with a white top sheep and pillow. She’s still wearing her clothes, her shoes even. He hasn’t touched her. She’s not sure if that’s good news though. If he didn’t bring her here for that, then what did he take her for?

She doesn’t know how long she’s been out. There’s no window to see outside and no clock. She searches for her phone but he must have taken it. 

She tries to think of a plan. She’s seen the movies. She, like every girl in the world, identifies with the final girl. Of course she’d come up with a master plan to escape. And like the millions of women before her, Sara realizes wit doesn’t get you very far locked in a concrete box with a man far stronger than you. The only way out is through the heavy door across the room. It has no doorknob. Before she can attempt to be some brave heroine, she hears footsteps on the other side of the door. 

The fear is immediate. The look of her would be heroin to an evil man, she, the perfect image of a deer in headlights, a scared bunny trapped in a corner. Humans have put themselves on a pedestal with our civilized ways and polite manners and laws. But here, in this moment, they were nothing but animals, their prospective counterpoints. Here, he could be king of the jungle relishing in a hunt. Here, she was nothing but the sad byproduct of the dog eat dog world. A man is hungry. He needs to feed. This is the way of wild beasts. Here, the propriety of humanity can be stripped off. Here, the only thing that matters is what these two people are made up of when push comes to shove. 

The man saunters in. She’s seen him on the street but it was just a glance. He looks so… normal. Wearing jeans and a plain black tshirt, he crouches next to the mattress. She’s tenses up. Should she bolt away? Where would she go? 

“I’ve been waiting for you yanno. You’ve walked past me almost every day for three weeks and never once noticed me. I’m not sure if I should be offended or if you’re just a little stupid?” 

She looks away without answering her but he roughly grabs her jaw and forces her head back to him. He searches her eyes and it makes her feel bare. She thought he’d be some crazy, erratic lunatic, not to be looked at so brazenly. 

His gaze slowly roams away from her eyes. She had the sheet balled in her fists up against her chest covering herself. 

“I was gonna start slow with you. I keep telling myself to be slow with you girls but then here you are and.. well I’m a little excited to see you break for me.” 

She quickly crawls to the other side of the bed and shoots off, backing up until she hits the wall. He just sighs, shakes his head as he stalks forward, and grabs her. She’s resisting but it only takes a few minutes before she realizes she can’t move at all. He has put her on the chair, strapped down. She’s propped up slightly most mostly laying down, her neck braced down so she can’t turn her neck much. Her waist tied down, her wrists above her head. Her legs on the edge of the seat spread wide. 

He leaves the room but enters again a few minutes later. He rolls in a full length mirror and positions it so I can see myself, in between my legs, and a toolbox. 

He pulls out a power drill and holds it up, “Right after the last girl, I had this amazing idea and I couldn’t get it out my mind. So sorry I’ll skip some of the usual fun stuff. I hope you don’t mind” 

Sara starts screaming then. This was worse than she realized. She might not even get the chance to concoct a master plan of escape. She notices the bulge against his jeans. He’s hard. 

He sets the drill down and she feels a bit relaxed. She’s hoping he’s just trying to scare her with that. But then he pulls out a switch blade and flicks it open. But all he does is grab the fabric of her tights and panties and the bodysuit she was sporting and rips it away with the blade. He does the same to cut her shirt open, her tits spilling out. He palms them for a bit, rolling her nipple between his fingers. His hands are rough, dirty. Sara cringes with her eyes closed and head turned as far the bondage allows. She wants to dissociate from this moment. But her mind remains on as her eyes water as it streams down her face. 

He stops and walks back to between her legs. The chair is at the perfect height that his hard on in his jeans rubs against her pussy when he leans over her. He grabs her chin again. “Open your eyes. This is what stupid girls like you are for anyways. Look at you, tied down cause you’re so fucking weak you couldn’t even stand a chance against me. You dumb bitches always looking up with these little doe eyes and tits bouncing and a soft warm pussy I know would feel good to use and then cry when men don’t treat you with some high respect. And some men will be so nice to you but I can’t go without the satisfaction of taking a little slut and truly abusing their body like a little slave toy.” He cracks a hand quick across Sara’s face. She sees stars in her vision. She’s never been hit like that before. Her heart is racing. She’s sweating. She can’t think straight. She’s stuck and doesn’t know how to get out. She needs to get out. 

He laughs. Traces the tip of the knife down her face and she flinches. “I wonder what it’s like to be as scared as you. I bet that fear is fucking potent.”

She finally remembers she has a voice through her sheer panic and loud thoughts. “Please I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go. Please, please don’t hurt me.” 

He unbuckles his belt without breaking eye contact and unzips his pants. He doesn’t acknowledge her hysterical begging. He just lets his hard on spring free, it throbbing in excitement. 

She tries to back up though the man wouldn’t know, the restraints making movement near impossible. He rubs his cock up and down her little pink slit a few times while he listens to her begging turn into sobs. He slides into her hot, wet pussy, her walls stretch to accommodate him. She cries out in pain. The man just lets his head fall back with a pleased sigh and eyes closed as he slowly pumps into her. 

His lack of roughness made Sara have hope he just wants to rape her like this and then he’ll let her go. Though words from his rant earlier echo in her mind. His thrusts are slow, his groans soft and quiet but his grip is bruising on her thighs.

She feels him pull out and opens her eyes to brace herself for what happens next. Her heart beats out of her chest when he pulls out of the drill again. He stand a little off center and she watches in the mirror as he hovers the bit close to her pussy. Her eyes widen when she sees the end of it, a spade drill bit, the sharp edges daunting her. 

He crouches so he’s eye level with her spread legs and slowly enters the drill pit. Her screams echo so loud she knows he must live in the middle of nowhere. If there were neighbors, they would have heard that. But he makes no move to silence her. Instead, he just stares at her in fascination or down at her pussy. She can see the slickness turning pink. He’s cutting her pussy with every movement. 

Sara’s world becomes one of only the worst agony when the man flips the switch and turns the drill on, the spade bit spinning, the blades cutting into her soft, sensitive walls. 

Maybe it was only ten seconds or maybe it was ten minutes. When in that kind of pain, Sara lost track of time. The pain was never ending to her. He pulls the drill out. 

Through the mirror she can see drips of blood coating his face and he smiles at her. 

“Fuck that was even hotter than expected” 

Sara heard that as though he was under water. She didn’t know if she was losing too much blood or if she was in shock. What she did know was that she was not leaving this place alive. 

“Look at that bloody fucking mess of a cunt you have now. That cute little pink hole shredded. I’m sure you still feel good though so don’t worry” 

Blinding pain erupts again when he shoves his cock into her cunt. Gone was the slow rocking of earlier. He slams into her, his cock sliding through the blood, rubbing over all the shredded bits of pussy. 

“Fuck… I can feel the difference. It’s destroyed but” He groans and grips her throat. “This is good fucking pussy” 

She locks eyes with him. She doesn’t want to look at him but she needs something to focus on other than the sharp pain emanating from her pussy. His eyes so intense and filled with pleasure while she’s in utter hell. The dichotomy is so striking. 

His eyes roll back as he cums. His semen lights a fire on the open wounds, mixing with bits of hacked off flesh and blood. 

“What are you crying about? That’s where a man’s cum belongs.” He slaps her cunt and Sara screams. “Dumped into an otherwise useless pussy. But I can be nice. Your pussy hurts too much to be fucked?” 

He picks up the red soaked drill. “I’ll just prepare another hole to use to help you out. I still got another load until my balls are drained so..” he shrugs as if this is no big deal. 

She doesn’t have much strength left to fight. She knows it’s useless. She can feel herself half drifted off at this point. She can hear the sound of a dripping tap, her mind a jumbled mess not connecting the sound to the drip drip drip of blood falling between her legs to the floor. 

The man takes the drill bit and shoves it into her asshole and turns it on. The whirring sound of the machine gunning into her second hole fills the room. She can feel her body being torn apart. Her tight asshole grips the blades. 

“Oh fuck.” The drill stops. “Fuck I think i just cut through to your pussy.” He leans back, stunned. “Now it’s one big hole”. He stands up, frustrated, cracking a fist across Sara’s face. But she’s already blacked out from her pussy and asshole shredded into one gory fuckhole. 

After he calms down from his fun shortened, he returns and shoots his second load into her gaping mess of a body, her eyes lifeless. He didn’t mean to kill her so quickly. But it’s okay, he’s resolved to make the next one last longer.