Rape

 

I wait.

 

The day is coming to an end and the shadows hang long from the eaves of the building making tiger patterns on the hard baked earth outside.

 

I wait.

 

I hear them coming, the unmistakable noise made by a group of females as they trot unconcernedly down the narrow alley.  My pulse beats faster at the sound and I can feel the blood rushing through my veins.  My breathing quickens, sawing softly through the gap where my front teeth used to be. 

 

The females hesitate slightly as they enter the shade of the building, they glance about nervously for a moment and I worry that they might decide not to continue, that they will try to retreat back into the sunlight.  I have a man waiting in the shadows to force them in if they try to escape but I hope it won't come to that. It's better if they aren't panicked too soon. I watch them from the gloom inside; I am not too concerned yet. I know that they won't be able to see us until their eyes adjust and by then it will be too late. 

 

The lead one, slightly braver than her friends, decides to carry on and of course the others follow her.  So predictable. 

 

They are committed now and I glance down at my strong forearms, enjoying the way the snake tattooed there seems to coil as I flex my muscles in anticipation of the struggle to come.  I flick a quick glance both sides to satisfy myself that my mates are ready.  These are tough men, no strangers to the job before us and hardened to the fight. I'm satisfied with what I see.

 

I watch the females; decide on the one I want.  I know that as the gang boss no one disputes my right to first choice.  My eye settles on the one in the lead, the braver one that led the others into the dark. You'll do, I think. I reckon you're gonna be a fighter, well you'd do better than to try any crap with me.

 

As I watch them they suddenly become aware of our presence and stop, unsure of what to do.  It's too late though, too late realizing the danger, too late realizing the trap that the alley has become.  I step forward quickly, grapping my intended by the neck and dragging her away from the others.  I'm vaguely aware that on either side my mates are doing likewise but I was right about mine being a fighter and I have to concentrate fully on subduing her. 

 

This isn't the first time I've done this of course and I've learnt that an early show of strength often intimidates them and prevents any defiance, so I'm not gentle as I drag her back against the wall and try to throw her to the ground.  She bucks and struggles against me and it takes all my strength to hold her.  She wriggles hard in my grip and for an awful moment I think that I'm going to lose her.  I can't allow that to happen, it would shame me in front of my mates if she escaped and so I set my feet and with a grunt flip her over on to her back on the floor. 

 

I lock my arm around her neck and grip her hard with my knees.  She still struggles and I reach behind me for my blade and press the cold steel to her flesh.  At the touch of the steel she stops fighting me and lies still, fearful but resigned.  I'm glad she's stopped struggling, I don't want to cut her but I will if I have to.  It's funny how docile they tend to become once you put the blade to them. 

 

I work quickly now, moving her around in my grip to the positions I like, using the blade to remove her outer coverings, aware all the time of her wide staring eyes locked on me, her breath rasping against my skin. I'm good at what I do and it doesn't take me long to remove every stitch from her so that she lies naked and slippery in my grasp. 

 

I run my gaze over her; check her from all sides until I am satisfied with what I see. Only then do I meet her eyes.  They are larger than normal in response to her fear and I can see myself reflected in their deep brownness.  I feel a moment of tenderness for her and the desire to linger. Although I would never admit it to my mates I love her, love each one that I do.  I am glad that she trusted me in the end, glad that I didn't have to cut her. 

 

On the pretext of checking my work I run my hands down her sides, enjoying her warm  fragrant skin beneath my fingers.  I try to kid myself that she's the last one for me, that I've had my fill.  But deep down I know that next year I'll be back in the same place, waiting again.

 

I snap myself out of my revere; I must be going soft to daydream like this.  I glance around hoping nobody has noticed and see that the boys are finishing off their females as well.  Time to put an end to it.  I flip her over so she's on all fours and push her between my legs. 

 

As she falls through the trapdoor behind me I give her a last affectionate pat on the rump, then stand and stretch my sore back.  That's 200 today, I think, not bad for an old man. Behind me I hear her baa joyfully as she frolics in her new summer trim and rejoins her flock.