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Roleplay rape (CougarGirl - Foxy Lady - Lowblow Emma)

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I open my bedroom door and the first thing I fell was a breeze. That could only mean that the window was open. The window that was locked when we left this morning. The window that Dave and I both checked. As the door swings open, I see the full horror. My worst dreams come true. He has been in here. His hands - and who knows that other parts of him - have touched my underwear. I scream and Dave comes running. I feel my heart beating so fast it is like it is going to burst out of my chest. I point at my clothes and begin to hyperventilate. Dave shuts the window and scoops up my clothes and takes them off for washing. Another thought - he may have been here before and touched what I am wearing. I scream again and tear off my clothes, kicking them away and run to the shower to scrub myself clean.
 
It's like I the house maid here, not a bodyguard. No sooner had I washed her underwear than she stripping everything off the bed and demanding that be washed to. The was it's going, she's have no clothes to wear and no bedding to sleep in. I plead with her to be sensible about this, but she won't listen. She's barely dry before she's back in the shower, scrubbing herself clean - clean of what I ask myself - but of course it's her mind where the problem is and she can't clean that so she's washing and washing hoping she can convince herself that she is clean.

I have to admit, seeing at first hand the effects of - well not of rape, but just of the thought that someone has been in her home and touched her most intimate possessions. Even victim awareness classes in prison didn't bring it home like this.
 
One of us had to say it. It was the obvious thing to do. But given Dave's background, I knew the police would target him and I didn't want that. So it was a relief when he mentioned it first.

'Mia, you need to call the police.'

I sat down on the bed and thought long and hard as he stood beside me waiting for my decision. I'm sure I heard him sigh with relief when I said:

'No, Dave. They won't catch him and he'll just wait until they lose interest and then come back. I've got you to protect me, that's better than the police. We've got to sort this out, just the two of us.'
 
It's a relief I've got to admit. But in the days to come it will be important for her to remember that I was the one who suggested contacting the cops and she was the one who refused.

Despite, or perhaps because of, the shock, she sleeps soundly. I wake to find her hand around my morning wood. She gives me a weak smile and doesn't pursue it.

Dressed in freshly laundered underwear, she sets of for work with me at her side. She presses against me, as if drawing comfort from the contact.

'Dave' she says as we approach her work, 'I want you to go back to our place and check it out. Make sure no one's got in again. Keep an eye on it from a distance, just in case you spot someone hanging around. Don't leave until you come to collect me this evening.'

'Our' place. I noticed that. 'Our place.'

I drop her at work and pick up a coffee on the way back. I open the door and check the flat. Then I pick up the phone.

'Mia, don't be upset, but someone's been here again. I must have disturbed him, because only your underwear drawer was open.'

Her response is instant.

'Burn them, everything. I'll pick up some new ones on the way home.'

I can hear her hyperventilating down the phone.

'And do something about the locks and latches. Make that place secure before I get back.'

No need to burn expensive underwear. I take it with me and deposit it at a charity job before buying some window locks that can't be picked from outside.
 
I'm too distracted to work. My mind is full of thoughts. Who is he? What will he do next? When will he attack? Will it be in my home or out in the street, dragged down a dirty alley? Will he be quick or slow? Will he threaten and use a knife? Will I see his face? Will he use a condom? What if I recognise him - will he kill me?

Then suddenly just after lunch my mind clear, everything goes calm and I begin to think rationally. I've been having weird thoughts, ones that just don't make sense in my situation. Why, I've even thought that it might be Dave. Dave, the man who is protecting him. The only man I rely on and trust.

It is clear what I have to do.

On the way home, I drag Dave around several lingerie stores. It is obvious he is uncomfortable there, but I'm not going around commando style.

When we get home, I tell him my idea.

'Dave, I can't live like this. This guy is in control. We need to trap him. Get him out into the open somehow. Give it some thought, will you? Come up with a plan for me, please, it's the only way.'
 
How could I refuse?

I slept with her, on her insistence. She said she felt safer, although I assured her that it was impossible now for her bedroom window to be opened from outside. With me beside her, she slept like a log, keeping me awake with her snoring.

As dawn broke, I lay beside her watching her breasts rise and fall steadily. As her rhythm, I placed my hand over her mouth.

'Quiet,' I whispered. 'Did you hear that?'

'Hear what?' she mumbled. I removed my hand.

'That noise. I thought I heard a noise.'

We both lay still listening.

'No,' she said quietly, 'I don't hear anything. What do you thing it was?'

'I don't know. I can't be sure. Maybe it was just a cat or something. I'll go and check.'

She smiled in gratitude, but there was no doubting her concern.

'Don't be long,' she pleaded, 'and make sure you lock the door when you go out.'

I put on my jeans, let myself out and checked around, but there was no sign, not that there would have been.

I called to her as I unlocked the door, just so she wouldn't worry.

'No,' I reported, 'there's nothing to see. Go back to sleep if you can.'

But there was no way she would go back to sleep. She was now bright and alert. As I stood and watched her dress, I began to go hard. For the first time since coming out of prison, I get an erection while I was awake. There was no need to wonder why. For the first time since being free, I was now in control. The more worried her expression, the harder I got.

What a wonderful feeling.
 
Dave has changed. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is something different about his manner. He seems more confident - no that's not it. He was always a confident guy. This is more - oh what's the word? - determined, that's it, resolved. Something like that anyway.

He's not discussed his plans for trapping this guy and I understand why. There is an obvious thing to do - the only thing really. But it has to come from me.

'Dave,' I say, 'I know what we have to do. We have to lure this man into a trap. And there is only one thing we can use as bait - the one thing he wants - me. Now, let's put our heads together and sort out how.'
 
'OK,' I say. 'As I see it, there are only two possibilities. One is for you to stay here and I'll leave. The other is for you to come home without me. Either way he'll think you're alone. But how will I know when to come back. If I come back too soon, the trap won't work. and if I come back too late ... well, I'll be too late. I don't see how this can work and you can be safe. It's just too big a risk.'
 
He's right. Of course, he's right. I know that, but it's a risk I have to take. I'm not going to live my life like this. Wondering whether he's watching. Wondering what he did when he was in my home. Wondering whether I know him. Is he the guy who watches me at work or the man I've seen in the street who smiles at me? Is he picking on me because of something I've done to him or am I just a random target? Target, not victim. I will not allow myself to be that. No, just a target.

'It's the only way, Dave,' I tell him. 'You can't risk just waiting here, because he may be watching. And you can't risk coming back, because he may see you. What I suggest is this.'

I take a deep breath and tell him my plan, something it's taken me hours to work out.

'You leave me here alone. I'll text you every, what, 15 minutes. If you get a text, you'll know I'm OK. If not, come running. At worst, he'll have been here for a quarter of an hour. At best, only a minute or two. I can keep him off, hopefully, long enough for you to get here.'

I let him think about it.

'What do you reckon, Dave? It's the best we can do, isn't it?'
 
I nod. It's going to be risky and it could so easily go wrong. But yes, without more guys this is the best that we are going to manage.

I ask her when she wants to try this. It has to be her call, not mine.

'Tomorrow,' she says.

'OK,' I agree. 'Tomorrow it is. You call in with a sickie. If the guy is someone at work, he'll know you won't be coming in. I'll disappear shortly after breakfast, around the time we usually leave. If the guy is watching, he'll know you're alone. You text every 15 minutes, like you said. If I don't hear, I'll come running.'

There's still one thing bothering me, though.

'How's he going to get in? I mean, Mia, we've made this like Fort Knox. Suppose he can't get in.'

'Don't worry,' she gives me a devilish grin, 'I'm sure he'll find a way and I'll be ready for him.'

I don't like the sound of that. It sounds like she has plans she hasn't told me.

Next morning, she rings in as agreed and says her stomach is upset. When she is in the shower I call out that I am leaving and slam the door hard so she can hear it's properly shut.

What is going to happen now?
 
I hear Dave call out goodbye and am happily enjoying the refreshing shower, rubbing the suds over my breasts and down my belly to my crotch, when I realise that I don't have a watch. I've no idea what time it was when he left and only a vague idea of how long ago that was. How can I judge the time when I have to send my first text? Will he realise the problem and not expect a text on time? Should I send one right way so that he knows when to expect the next one? I dither around, reluctant to leave the comforting warmth of the shower.
 
Damn. She won't know the time I left. She'll realise and work out that I probably didn't note the exact time either. It wouldn't be a surprise if the first text is a bit late. She likes to hang around in her shower.
 
As I continue to rotate under the soothing warm water and caress my body, I plan how I will deal with this attacker. I rehearse my response in my mind. I will challenge him verbally. Argue with him. Refuse to accept his right to behave as he is. Try to make him explain why he had chosen me. I will not just give in to his physical power. I will fight back. If he overpowers me, he will have the bruises and the pain to pay for it. With my mind prepared and my body alert, I am better prepared to meet the challenge that this will present to me. But what if he doesn't come? Suppose that he is put off by the locks and latches? Well I have an answer for that. As soon as I am out of this shower, I intend to leave my bedroom window ajar, giving him the chance to come in. Although that will give him the chance, it gives me one too, because I know the direction he will come from. I can be prepared for him, lying in wait. Confident in body and mind, I step out of the shower and reach for a towel.
 
My phone is in my pocket, set on vibrate so I'll know instantly if she sends me a text.

Nothing yet, so she must be waiting for the full 15 minutes after she comes out of the shower.

I'm going hard, just at the thought of what is going to happen.
 
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