Here is my first story for you. Please note that it is work in progress.
CHAPTER 1
Unlike most commuters, I love rush hour traffic!
While other people are feeling stressed, moving through a sea of humanity, staring at brake lights and breathing exhaust fumes, I consider it to be the best part of the day.
I relish the anonymity that goes along with sitting behind the wheel, just another driver in a wasteland of steel on the interstate. My anonymity is my weapon. It is my strength. It protects me as I search, in the most unlikely of places, for my next rape victim.
Seeking out unsuspecting female motorists is a challenge and provides me with a virtual smorgasbord of potential victims. I love a challenge and the thrill of the hunt. The selection of my victim, in this way, and the stalking process that follows, fills me with a rush of Adrenalin that I can barely describe. Seeking my victims in this manner, randomly, as they sit behind the wheel of their cars, oblivious to my presence, with no knowledge of my intentions is exciting.
Once I select my victims, I prepare my mind for the hunt that will ensue. The hunt may be short-lived or last several weeks. The length of the hunt is determined by the opportunities that my unsuspecting prey provide for me to close in on them.
Today marks the start of a new hunt and the selection of my victim came very quickly. After merging onto the interstate and driving only five miles in the crisp morning air, posing as just another morning commuter, the object of my desires suddenly appeared in my rearview mirror.
Directly behind me, only 10 feet off my rear bumper, the driver of the white BMW leaned towards her rearview mirror as she put the finishing touches on her lipstick. She was clearly paying more attention to her appearance than to the flow of traffic.
Even in traffic and seeing her only in a mirror, I could see she was very pretty and that her makeup was applied with great care. She was about 35 and her shoulder length, wavy, blonde hair was gelled and moussed and every strand appeared to be in place.
"She probably spends more money at the salon in one day, then most women spend at the grocery store in a week", I thought. The bitch obviously had money. She also looked great, and she knew it!
As I moved to the right lane, I slowed down, allowing her to pass me so I could get a better look at her. As she moved past me in the left lane, I glanced over at her. She was completely oblivious to me.
She was very pleasing to the eye and she was dressed in a crisp, conservative business suit. She was obviously some type of executive, I assumed. This pleased me.
As she moved further ahead of me, I saw the vanity plate on the rear of her BMW- "Q T PIE" it read. Her attitude was plastered across the back of her car, for all to see. There was no question that I had chosen my prey well.
Someone clearly needed to knock her off her pedestal and wipe that smug, confident smile off her face. This woman needed to be raped, and I knew that I was just the person to do it!
Shadowing her now as we weaved through traffic, heading towards downtown, I smiled to myself and whispered aloud," The hunt begins!"
As "Q T PIE" pulled into the employee lot of the First Interstate Insurance Company, I continued past the building and headed towards the DMV. I now knew where she worked, so now I needed to search the public vehicle records to find out where she lived. That process took all of five minutes. It was the best $15.00 I ever spent.
The BMW was registered to John and Mary Beth Reynolds. "Mary Beth sounds like such a nice innocent name", I smirked. I knew I would love whispering that sweet, wholesome name to her, as I did things to her that she had never dreamed of.
After finding out who she was, I then went to the First Interstate website. It didn't take me long to find her. On the home page was a link to company management. When I clicked on it, I quickly found Mary Beth Reynolds' picture listed next to her title and a brief bio. I knew my job would be easy now.
Over the next three weeks, I occupied my evenings by following her home from work, learning her schedule and her nightly routine. While she was at work, I spent the daytime hours staking out her house, to learn about her husband's routine and to find out anything else I could about her personal life.
I had determined that they had no children. Too busy with their careers, I assumed. I also discovered that her husband was a pilot for a major airline. From watching his coming and going, I was able to ascertain the pattern of his travel schedule. He was always gone for three days and home for five days. Using this knowledge, I looked ahead on the calendar and figured out when he would be gone over the weekend. I had to wait three weeks for that rotation to come up, but I knew that it would be worth the wait.
On the Friday afternoon of the third week, I smiled as I watch Captain John Reynolds, back his Hummer out of the garage and close the garage door. As he drove past, I saw him in his crisp pilot's uniform and knew that he was on his way to the airport.
I now had three days to enjoy his wife, while he was off flying around the country. I smiled as I realized that I would be the one having all the fun. As he disappeared from sight, I turned my attention to the house and contemplated my next move. As I stared wide-eyed up the driveway, I realized that fate had intervened on my behalf.
Captain Reynolds had been in such a hurry, he failed to wait around until the garage door had closed. And now, for some reason, the garage door had its downward movement interrupted and had gone back up. The door to the Reynolds garage was standing wide open! An open invitation to anyone who wanted to enter. I decided to accept the invitation.
Moving my car three blocks away, I removed a small bag of items that I knew I would need later, and locked the car. I then walked the three blocks to the Reynolds' house and walked, unnoticed into the garage.
Looking around, a noticed a yard rake that had apparently fallen and was laying across the threshold of the overhead door. The mystery of the open garage door had been solved. Picking up the rake, I then looked around for the wall switch. Pushing the button, I closed the garage door and waited to see if it would stay shut.
With the rake now out of the way, the door closed securely and this time, stayed shut. Safely locked inside the garage, I found a comfortable spot, in the shadows of the garage and waited for the lovely Mary Beth Reynolds to come home.
At 5:45, right on schedule, the gears inside the automatic garage door opener activated and the garage door started to go up. Seconds later, the white BMW drove through the doorway and into the garage.
Shutting off the engine, Mary Beth collected her personal items from her car and waited inside until the garage door closed. As the overhead door shut and the driver's door of the BMW opened I stepped quickly and silently from the shadows!
