You don't remember what you were dreaming. You can't remember if it was pleasant or upsetting. All of it has disappeared in the wake of what followed, but when you look back on this night, cringing and shuddering at images and sensations that you cannot push from your mind, you do remember that you were dreaming.
A hard click and the snap of cold metal against your wrists rips you from sleep, forces all memories of dream from your mind. It is disorienting, and for a moment all you have are impressions that your brain cannot put together -- a weight upon your body, a large shadow looming over you, the chill of night air on your exposed toes, and your arms... Your arms are above your head, hands slipped into the slats of your headboard, and you cannot lower them, they are caught, restrained, they are...
Then the shadow draws close, and you see a faceless man. His eyes gleam cold in the dim light of your bedroom. The rest is obscured by a black ski mask. When he speaks you see a motion in the mask, but cannot see his mouth.
"Don't scream." You suck a breath anyway, and are about to disobey him, when he rises up the knife in his hand. It gleams in the moonlight, and you see your own face reflected off its polished edge. The fear pours out of your eyes. Your lips hang open, the scream choked back with a shuddering stillness.
"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is low. Too low. It spills down from his lips like liquid lead. You feel the weight of his voice pressing you down. "But I will. You know I will. Don't you?"
"But I don't want to hurt you... Not much. Not too much..." You feel the heat of his laugh against your flushed and burning cheeks. He lowers his knife now, bringing its edge against your face. It stings against your hot skin -- so sharp, so cold.
"Then again, I bet you would like that, huh? You like it to hurt a little bit." The blade draws its dangerous trail down your mouth, pressing open your lips with its tip, sliding down your pulsing throat.
"Yeah, that's just the kind of slut you are." The blade pauses now at the base of your throat. It digs into the tender flesh there. It digs just hard enough that you think this just might be it. It might all be over. But suddenly he slashes to the left, then right, cutting the straps of your nightgown. He pulls back then, and rips the nightgown open, exposing your breasts to the night air, and to him.
He lets out a sigh at the sight. "I've been waiting to see these all night, all month. Watching you come out to the club. Seeing the way you tease every one of those hard-pricks with your tits. Teasing them..." The blade returns to your skin now, sliding across your breasts. Moving in slow circles, he brings the edge right up against your left nipple.
"Such a fucking slut," he says. "Letting them all look at you. Letting them want you. Making them thing they can't have you..." His gloved left hand takes hold of your other breasts, squeezing it roughly. "But I know the truth don't I? You can't hide the truth from me..."
The left hand moves downward. You feel the glove's leather making its way down your belly. Down... "I know. I know how much you want it. I know..." His fingers reaching between his own legs to find you, pressing against the soft mount of your pussy, pressing into the fabric of your panties... "I know. You just don't want to give it up..." The gloved hand slides past your panties, shoves fingers roughly inside you... "You want me to take it!"
The blade comes back up to your throat, as his fingers continue to assault your cunt. You are unable to bite back the gasps and whimpers as he invades you. Tears begin to trickle down your face.
"Don't lie to me. Don't you fucking lie to me, bitch!" He thrusting grows wilder. "Don't pretend you don't like it. Don't pretend you don't love it! I know you love it! Tell me. Tell me you love it!"
You open your mouth, but all you can let out is a long and painful wail. "SAY IT, SLUT! SAY YOU LOVE IT!" And the blade bites into your flesh.
"I love it!" You scream with a sob.
The sound of your admission seems to drive him on. He moves with sudden ferocity. The blade of the knife is driven into the headboard above you. It quivers there as he tugs open his jeans. "That's right. That's right you love it. You fucking love it. And you are going to love THIS!" You close your eyes, not wanting to see his cock plunge into you.
But he doesn't take your pussy, and you cannot hold back the scream as he rips his way in into your ass. "That's it! You can scream! Scream for me! Let me hear how you love it!" Your whole lower body burns from force of his cock. It fills you. It forces you open. It spreads you wide.
You hear the sound of your own wailing. You hear your voice bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts. Outside that sound, his muttered insults and groans of pleasure seem so far away. But though you cannot make out the words, you know the tone. He calls you meat. He calls you his toy. He says you are good for nothing for fucking.
And in that moment you feel it. With his cock raging inside your ass, the frames the moment perfectly. You feel like meet. You feel like a whore. And you feel like this moment is the most right moment you have ever felt. You were meant to be taken. You were meant to be violated. You were meant to be fucked.
He groans suddenly, and rips you cock from you. As he bellows out his orgasm, you feel the hot wet spray of his cum landing upon your skin. It slides across your tits. It pools in your belly button. It dangles from your cheek.
In the stillness, you hear him zipping his pants back up. You feel his weight against you as he leans over you once more. There is a heavy "thunk" as he pulls his knife out of the headboard. Will he use it now? Is it all over?
The blade does not sink into your flesh. You feel him leaving your bed, and then his footsteps trailing. He has left you in handcuffs. He has left you alive. Surely someone will come to find you. It will not be long. Not too long. But as his fluids begin to dry upon your skin, one thought blots out all others. Your tears flow down your cheeks as your pulse tries to return to normal, and all you can think is that, just before he had his orgasm, you felt yourself have yours.