Glyndwr
12-05-2002, 07:36 AM
*It was Thursday, just my regular Thursday. I woke promptly at 7:30 stepping into the shower by 7:35. After a quick shower, I dressed for the day in my usual khakis, with a white T-shirt, and sneakers, making sure to secure my hair with a clip to keep it from annoying me. I always do my grocery shopping on Thursdays to avoid the maddening rush of weekend shoppers. I am, well to put it mildly, predictable. So I ventured to the grocery store buying the same groceries as I do every week. This week being so daring as to actually switch breakfast cereals, knowing I will regret veering from my typical choice. I checked out and managed to get myself and the groceries to my home despite the horrid traffic. Most people are heading to work but I am heading home. I am lucky to be able to do my consulting work from an office in my home. I pulled into the drive, and thought to myself that I hate this part of the trip. I unloaded the trunk, lugged them to the door, then juggled the 2 bags of groceries as I slipped my key into the lock and twisted."
Those are the words of the latest victim of the man the police have dubbed the Jogging Rapist.
He pulls up to the kerb, it's about 200 yards from her house. His eyes roam the street and up to the front door of the house, he knows that she is not at home. For the last 3 weeks he has been watching and following her, studying her routine, seen where she goes and what she does. At the moment he knows she is at the grocery store, she'll buy 2 bags of groceries, which she'll place in the trunk of her car. When she returns home she'll take the house keys in one hand, scoop up the groceries, one bag in each arm and walk to her front door. Standing on one leg to support a bag she reaches with the keys to the lock, unlocks the door and then almost stumbles into the house keeping a grip on the shopping. He glances at his watch if she is on time, which she will be, he has 3 minutes to get ready. He's wearing Nike running shoes, a black vest and loose fitting shorts. Opening the car door he steps onto the sidewalk, as he moves down the street he sees her car turn the corner and head towards him. He jogs towards where he knows she'll pull her car in. As he runs he watches the expected routine played out before him, going to the trunk, lifting out the 2 bags, struggling to close the trunk and walk to the car. He is almost level with the car as she starts the balancing act, keys in the lock, twist the key, door opens. That is his cue, as the door opens a fraction he sprints from the sidewalk over the mown grass of her lawn towards where she is standing precariously, he hits her full in the back just as she removes the key from the lock. She lurches inside, both bags of groceries are tossed haphazardly down the hall, door crashing against a wall before rebounding back. He keeps pushing her inside before kicking the door shut, he sees her stagger and fall to her knees, his hand is in her hair pushing her head down towards the floor, her hair clip bounces off the tiles as she is flung forward. He places a knee in the small of her back, weighing her down.
The adrenaline is flowing through his body as he grabs her wrist and pulls it up behind her back forcing her further forward. Her nose is so close to the tiles he can see their cold surface clouding with each struggling gasp. The metallic sound of the errant hair clip whips his head around to search for the origin of the noise, seeing it as no threat he releases the hold on her hair and moves his arm under her hips and jerks her up onto her knees. Keeping her head and shoulders pressed down he fumbles and searches for the button on her khakis, a twist of deft fingers undoes it and the zipper is swiftly dealt with next. The central focus of his mind is concentrating on how he is going to fuck her. The past weeks of watching and waiting have been for this moment. He has been her unseen shadow, watching through a gap in her curtains as she undresses for bed, standing behind her in the library drinking in her scent, posing as a telephone market researcher just to hear her voice. Kneeling close to her shapely ass he drags the cotton material roughly down over her thighs, the purple cotton thong she is wearing hardly covers her modesty and is no barrier to his urgent hand. She resists, contorting her body, his hand twists her wrist in the opposite direction and she cries out as she is forced back to the floor. Inside the loose fitting shorts his cock is fully erect, the ache in his balls is almost painful as he yanks down the elasticated waist and takes a firm hold of the shaft. He positions himself close between her buttocks guiding the tip lower to run along the lips of her pussy, with one violent thrust he enters her, with no lubrication his foreskin is dragged backwards, he groans in gratification and hurt. The force of the lunge rocks her forward, pressing her cheek and forehead against the floor. He places a free hand on her shoulder to bring her back up to meet the next plunging stroke. There is no thought for her pleasure only self-gratification. He is as if a man possessed, thrusting aggressively into her struggling body. She feels a hand under her T-shirt scrabbling at the front of her bra dragging it up over her breasts, her breasts fall free and he grabs roughly at them. Pulling at the flesh as he continues to pound into her, grunting with each stroke.
Suddenly he stiffens and digs his fingernails into her skin, he is ejaculating hard and deep into her. Three… four long bursts before he moans a low stream of obscenities and pulls out of her violated pussy. She feels warm sticky drops falling onto her ass as he tries to pull up his shorts with one hand. Throwing one arm back she catches him off balance and rakes her nails across his face, he reels backwards and she lashes out with a foot hitting him full in the chest. Staggering he gets to his feet and sends a powerful kick directly into her stomach, she curls up like a ball clutching her painful injury. Again he lines up to kick her, this time on her bare exposed ass. As the trainer makes contact she lets out a lung busting scream. Panicked, her assailant throws open the door and sprints for his car, leaving her battered in the foetal position.
Panting for breath he yanks open the car door and climbs inside, driving off before he has fitted his seat belt. The rush of his conquest courses through him, sexually sated and pumped full of adrenaline. It is a little over 2 miles before he stops at the roadside restroom, he looks into the rearview mirror at the red, parallel lines carved into his cheek. Climbing from the driver's seat he walks the few yards to the washroom door and goes inside. Noticing 2 guys using the urinals and another washing his hands he goes to a sink in the corner and turns on the taps. In the mirror he examines the scratches and bends to splash water onto the marks. The hand on the back of his head forces it under the water, he pushes back, spluttering and gasping for air. One of the men has a firm grip on him forcing him over the basin, another is rifling through the pockets in his shorts and pulling them lower off his hips.
"Wait, stop!" he shouts "I'll give you my money"
A deep voice says "Oh we're gonna take that after"
He glances back up into the mirror and sees the third man unzipping his jeans and lowering them to his thighs. He weeps like a baby as the realisation of his fate unfolds.
Those are the words of the latest victim of the man the police have dubbed the Jogging Rapist.
He pulls up to the kerb, it's about 200 yards from her house. His eyes roam the street and up to the front door of the house, he knows that she is not at home. For the last 3 weeks he has been watching and following her, studying her routine, seen where she goes and what she does. At the moment he knows she is at the grocery store, she'll buy 2 bags of groceries, which she'll place in the trunk of her car. When she returns home she'll take the house keys in one hand, scoop up the groceries, one bag in each arm and walk to her front door. Standing on one leg to support a bag she reaches with the keys to the lock, unlocks the door and then almost stumbles into the house keeping a grip on the shopping. He glances at his watch if she is on time, which she will be, he has 3 minutes to get ready. He's wearing Nike running shoes, a black vest and loose fitting shorts. Opening the car door he steps onto the sidewalk, as he moves down the street he sees her car turn the corner and head towards him. He jogs towards where he knows she'll pull her car in. As he runs he watches the expected routine played out before him, going to the trunk, lifting out the 2 bags, struggling to close the trunk and walk to the car. He is almost level with the car as she starts the balancing act, keys in the lock, twist the key, door opens. That is his cue, as the door opens a fraction he sprints from the sidewalk over the mown grass of her lawn towards where she is standing precariously, he hits her full in the back just as she removes the key from the lock. She lurches inside, both bags of groceries are tossed haphazardly down the hall, door crashing against a wall before rebounding back. He keeps pushing her inside before kicking the door shut, he sees her stagger and fall to her knees, his hand is in her hair pushing her head down towards the floor, her hair clip bounces off the tiles as she is flung forward. He places a knee in the small of her back, weighing her down.
The adrenaline is flowing through his body as he grabs her wrist and pulls it up behind her back forcing her further forward. Her nose is so close to the tiles he can see their cold surface clouding with each struggling gasp. The metallic sound of the errant hair clip whips his head around to search for the origin of the noise, seeing it as no threat he releases the hold on her hair and moves his arm under her hips and jerks her up onto her knees. Keeping her head and shoulders pressed down he fumbles and searches for the button on her khakis, a twist of deft fingers undoes it and the zipper is swiftly dealt with next. The central focus of his mind is concentrating on how he is going to fuck her. The past weeks of watching and waiting have been for this moment. He has been her unseen shadow, watching through a gap in her curtains as she undresses for bed, standing behind her in the library drinking in her scent, posing as a telephone market researcher just to hear her voice. Kneeling close to her shapely ass he drags the cotton material roughly down over her thighs, the purple cotton thong she is wearing hardly covers her modesty and is no barrier to his urgent hand. She resists, contorting her body, his hand twists her wrist in the opposite direction and she cries out as she is forced back to the floor. Inside the loose fitting shorts his cock is fully erect, the ache in his balls is almost painful as he yanks down the elasticated waist and takes a firm hold of the shaft. He positions himself close between her buttocks guiding the tip lower to run along the lips of her pussy, with one violent thrust he enters her, with no lubrication his foreskin is dragged backwards, he groans in gratification and hurt. The force of the lunge rocks her forward, pressing her cheek and forehead against the floor. He places a free hand on her shoulder to bring her back up to meet the next plunging stroke. There is no thought for her pleasure only self-gratification. He is as if a man possessed, thrusting aggressively into her struggling body. She feels a hand under her T-shirt scrabbling at the front of her bra dragging it up over her breasts, her breasts fall free and he grabs roughly at them. Pulling at the flesh as he continues to pound into her, grunting with each stroke.
Suddenly he stiffens and digs his fingernails into her skin, he is ejaculating hard and deep into her. Three… four long bursts before he moans a low stream of obscenities and pulls out of her violated pussy. She feels warm sticky drops falling onto her ass as he tries to pull up his shorts with one hand. Throwing one arm back she catches him off balance and rakes her nails across his face, he reels backwards and she lashes out with a foot hitting him full in the chest. Staggering he gets to his feet and sends a powerful kick directly into her stomach, she curls up like a ball clutching her painful injury. Again he lines up to kick her, this time on her bare exposed ass. As the trainer makes contact she lets out a lung busting scream. Panicked, her assailant throws open the door and sprints for his car, leaving her battered in the foetal position.
Panting for breath he yanks open the car door and climbs inside, driving off before he has fitted his seat belt. The rush of his conquest courses through him, sexually sated and pumped full of adrenaline. It is a little over 2 miles before he stops at the roadside restroom, he looks into the rearview mirror at the red, parallel lines carved into his cheek. Climbing from the driver's seat he walks the few yards to the washroom door and goes inside. Noticing 2 guys using the urinals and another washing his hands he goes to a sink in the corner and turns on the taps. In the mirror he examines the scratches and bends to splash water onto the marks. The hand on the back of his head forces it under the water, he pushes back, spluttering and gasping for air. One of the men has a firm grip on him forcing him over the basin, another is rifling through the pockets in his shorts and pulling them lower off his hips.
"Wait, stop!" he shouts "I'll give you my money"
A deep voice says "Oh we're gonna take that after"
He glances back up into the mirror and sees the third man unzipping his jeans and lowering them to his thighs. He weeps like a baby as the realisation of his fate unfolds.