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I paused, realizing my last footstep hadn’t ended before the next one came to replace it.
How was that possible unless…
The blood drained from my face as I missed a step; the reflected sound bounced back at me before my step had even been made.
Someone else was in the alley with me!
Someone else was right on my heels!
Once again, I didn’t turn to look back — I didn’t want to give them any heads-up that I was onto them — and I shifted my weight instead, leaning forward and pointing my toes, going up onto the balls of my feet to race toward the exit.
I was ready to let the torture devices known as my shoes slip from my feet if necessary.
Just so long as I could escape.
I took one long stride and felt the wind press against my face.
I drew my arms back to launch into a full-on sprint and—
Powerful hands caught the nook of my elbow and, using my momentum against me spun me around and yanked me into the shadows.
I hadn’t fully believed someone was behind me, hadn’t completely given into the terror, and had assumed that once I reached the safety of the alley mouth opposite, I could look back into the empty concrete corridor and breathe a sigh of relief, and even manage a little laugh at myself for being so silly.
Of course, there wasn’t anyone else in the alleyway.
Of course, I was always going to get to the other end of it safely.
Of course, my imagination had just gotten the better of me.
And all the while, I would promise myself that I would never again put myself in that situation.
But my imagination wasn’t wrong.
Someone had grabbed me, and now he pressed his weight against me, and his lavascious tongue dabbed at my cheek.
I turned my head to one side and screamed, but the figure’s hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me.
The man wasn’t taller than me, but he was strong, even as I struggled, I felt his weight pinning me to that wall.
He fumbled at his fly with his free hand and unzipped himself. “I was beginning to worry no one would come into the alley tonight. Pickings are slim when there’s a win on the field.”
I felt his tiny cock pressing against the front of my skirt.
My terror was complete.
I could barely bring myself even to believe this was happening.
Fight him! a tiny voice at the back of my mind bellowed. Fight!
But my muscles were rigid with panic.
I balled my fists and beat ineffectively against his chest, but he paid them no mind.
He reached toward my skirt and began to hike it up before scrabbling for my panties, hooking his hand over them with a well-practiced tug, and angled himself toward me.
“It’ll be over in a minute,” he said. “I won’t take long…”
“No!” I yelled.
