Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences, familiar with the difference between fantasy and reality. Real rape is a heinous crime, that does deserves to be punished to the full extent of the law.
The punishment must match the crime
With a sigh of deep satisfaction Senator Tamara Wesslin dropped the newspaper onto her desk. She had done it again her fiery speech for law and order, and harsher punishments for criminals had guaranteed her a front page mention in the post. Her reelection campaign wasn’t going to start till next year, but it never hurt a career to champion the topics her constituents felt strongly about. At 42 she was one of the youngest senators serving. Her eloquent speeches and stunning good looks had made her the poster child of her party and the darling of the media. The article was accompanied by a large picture of her, with her maroon hair falling in very slight waves over her shoulder, brilliant green eyes sparkling in an intelligent face, with full lips and a dimpled chin. She was of medium height with a perfectly proportioned figure, her breasts perhaps a tiny bit too large for the ideal, but her husband had never complained about them. A quick glance on her wristwatch told her that it was already past 9 pm. Most certainly she was the last person in the office; she got up switched of the lights and left the office through her own entrance avoiding the front office. The hallway was only dimly lit by the emergency lights, as she tried to lock up she suddenly heard a quiet sound a simple metallic CLICK.
Wesslin froze; thunder couldn’t have filled her senses more than this little sound. She had to show up at too many gun shows and NRA functions not to recognize the sound of a gun being cocked. And if that sound happens to occur about 5 inches from your ear, you do remain stock still, and wait for what happens next.
“Senator Wesslin, please open that door again.” The voice behind her was deep, calm, very masculine and sounded well educated. It was also full of confidence that it would be obeyed. The man was clearly a subscriber to Al Capone’s motto that you get further in live with a gun and a kind word, than just a kind word.
“Please don’t shoot.” Wesslin, tried to sound composed but couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice.
“Less talking, more moving, open that door and get inside.” His tone hadn’t changed but he used the barrel of the gun to push between her shoulder blades.
Capone’s dictum proved again true, with shaking hands Wesslin unlocked the door and opened it and stepped back in her office. In a desperate attempt she rushed forward and tried to shut the door before her assailant could get in, but she was to slow. The man had anticipated the move and had made two big steps and was in the office before she could begin to swing the heavy door shut. Instead of blocking the movement he grabbed it and through it shut. He raised the gun and extended his hand towards Wesslin. “Your keys Senator. “ Despite the darkness in her office she could see the gun far too clearly. Deciding this wasn’t the time to be stupid she handed the keys over.
The man took them, inserted them in the lock and locked the door, before pocketing them. Then after some fumbling in the dark he switched on the lights of the office. For the first time could the Senator get a good look at the man, holding her at gun point. He was tall, broad shouldered, dressed in dark pants, boots, and a dark coat. The face was hidden under a black ski mask, with very small eye holes. In his hands he held a pistol, with a barrel that resembled a train tunnel, at least from her perspective.
With the light on, some of her courage returned to her “Who are you, what do you want?”
“I’m here to bring justice, Senator Wesslin.”
“You have a very strange way to do this, are you law enforcement?”
“I’m here for justice, not for the law, there is a difference.”
“But who are you, and why do you think you are entitled to deal in justice?”
“If the law doesn’t act against wrongdoing, it’s the duty of upstanding citizens to do so.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s not justice, that vigilantism” Wesslin responded anger rising in her.
“You can call it whatever you like, but justice will be done.” He then reached into his coat and fished out a folded sheet of paper.
Wesslin took it unfolded it, and looked questioning at the man. With a gesture he indicated for her to read it.
Her face drained of all color, while she read the few short paragraphs. Fighting for control she asked “Where did you get this information?”
“Interesting, that you don’t even bother to deny it, as for where I got it from, let’s call it diligent searching.”
“Those are all lies, with not the slightest bit of truth to it …” the senator tried to protest.
“Please be quiet, I’m perfectly convince of all my evidence, particularly your first reaction to it.”
“What do you want?” A lot of her bluster was gone.
“Oh that is simple, you will sit down at your table, and you will read the text on the paper. I will make a recording of it, and then we will discuss your political views.”
“And if I refuse? Will you just kill me?”
“No, I’m not here to kill you. If you are not going to cooperate I will shoot you in the knees, and call an ambulance. When you will leave the hospital in your brand new wheel chair, you will find that everybody you ever cared for will be dead. Would you like to test the strength of my conviction?” the perfect calmness in his voice was the most terrifying thing she had ever heard. The man was obviously crazy, and she wouldn’t risk the life of her family just to defy this lunatic. While the text on the paper was quite damaging, her career would survive it.
She sat down in her desk, the brass name plate in front of her. When she looked up she saw that the man had produced a camcorder from his coat and aimed the lens at her. With a wave of his gun he indicated that she should begin.
Looking down on the paper, she began to read with a voice trained in years of giving speeches.
“My name is Tamara Wesslin, I’m the Junior Senator of Colorado. Last year I have accepted a personal contribution of 1.2 million US Dollar from Denver Mining to use my influence to allow the sale of some federal land to Denver Mining and to allow them to proceed with strip mining for the copper resources. This caused the land to be stripped of all natural growth and a rape of the land.”
Wesslin dropped the sheet and glared at the intruder “So are you happy now, I confessed, so you can leave and try to make this forced confession stick.”
“You have a pretty poor memory, Senator. The reading of the text was only the first step; I also said we would discuss your political views.” He pointed with the gun to the newspaper still on her desk “It is my understanding that you feel we need stronger punishments. If I recall your speech from yesterday correctly you stated that the society needs to meter the punishment to fit the crime. Did I understand you correct?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Our judicial system is too inflexible, handing out only marginal or minimal punishments completely unsuited to the offense. We need to return to a society that respects the law and its enforcement organs. I’m running on a policy of stricter laws.” In her political fervor, she forgot almost her own predicament. But then again taking money contribution wasn’t all that unusual in her line of work.
“I’m very happy to hear this Senator, since I feel very much the same way. The punishment needs to be tailored to fit the crime. Would you please put your hands behind your back?” He never changed tone or infliction, but continued to speak calmly as if they were talking over a coffee.
As she sat there seemingly not understanding what he had said, he got up moved around her desk, and grabbed her by the hair. With a violent pull he moved her body upward and forward until her upper body lay on the desk. With swift and clearly practiced movements, he twisted her arms behind her back and slipped a zip tie over her wrists. In on rapid movement he pulled it tight, completely unperturbed by the painful exclamation of the woman before him. He then pushed her further onto the desk, forcing her kicking legs of the ground. He pinned the wildly flailing limbs between his body and one arm. Using another zip tie he bound her ankles as well, causing more discomfort. All this time the honorable Senator of Colorado engaged in a form of descriptive language usually found with dock workers. Offering opinions on the legitimacy of his birth, suggested anatomically impractical sexual acts and some just plainly insulting.
He didn’t care; he put away his gun and produced instead an old fashioned straight razor, with a gleaming blade that looked like it could split atoms. “OK Senator, let’s get to the sentencing. I declare you guilty of selling your vote for money, like a whore sells her body; you are responsible for stripping a beautiful landscape of its entire natural splendor, and allowed trenches to be driven in the earth, violating the countryside deeply. Since you propose the punishment to be fitting the crime, you will suffer the same fate. I recommend that you do not move since this razor is rather sharp.”
The bound woman was obviously confused, what did she have to do with the mining, those weren’t charges those we lunacies. She tried to protest but stopped as she saw the light reflecting on the curved blade of the razor.
He began with the jacket of her business costume, carefully tracing the sharp instrument along the arms leaving a gaping cut in the expensive silk, causing it to fall of her body. From then on he continued to undress her with the use of his blade. Not that undressing was the proper term, the man took every opportunity, to reduce her expensive wardrobe to rags, not only cutting of every single button of her blouse, but also slicing open her sleeves. He even went so far to cutting the ties in her shoes, it appeared to her that his whole purpose was to not leave her with single piece of wearable cloth, and she shivered with fear as the sharp blade sliced her stockings to ribbons, leaving her in only bra and panties.
But that was a very fleeting state, as he immediately proved, slipping the razor blade into the cleavage between her breasts, and cutting the bridge between the bra cups in one swift motion. The cups fell away, and without its support, the breasts that only a moment ago had stood up majestically as the Rocky Mountains now slipped and followed gravity. Wesslin couldn’t understand why it made her feel ashamed, of course her breasts weren’t as firm as they had been when she was a teenager, and since they were large breast they even then had needed proper support. Here she now lay tied in her own office, stripped by a stranger, planning god knows what, and she felt sorry for him seeing her boobs flop. The stranger didn’t show any expression of what he thought of the display of her mammary glands, he proceeded to eliminate the shoulder straps with two further cuts.
Next he gripped the front of her panties pulling the sharply upward, causing her to cry out in discomfort, as the fabric rode up in her crotch, parting the lips of her sex and pressed against her clit. He cut the fabric at the leg holes, and finished by pulling the fabric free from her body. To Wesslin it felt as if miles of sand paper were pulled between her labia and past her clit, and she cried out in pain. Other than the rest of her garment the man didn’t drop the panties on the floor, but let them drop next to her face onto the desk.
“Senator Wesslin, I would appreciate if you would be quiet. As you know the offices have been soundproofed to give you senators, the quiet work atmosphere you need. So crying won’t bring any help, but it annoys me. And you wouldn’t like me when I’m annoyed. So if you don’t shut up right now, I’m going to cram those panties in your mouth to keep you quiet. I don’t think you would like that, they smell a bit ripe to me, if I may say so. Nod if you agree!”
The color drained from the bound woman’s face, she had never considered anybody vile enough to threaten her with that. But her nose was also close enough to the discarded garment to get a good whiff of the intense odor of her own musk. So she nodded in defeat.
She felt his hand sliding up her thigh, and stroking the hair on her pudenda.
“This must be the biggest bush on Capitol hill, since W. left Washington.” He commented, gripping with his fingers the patch of dark curls. It hurt, but she was able to prevent herself from crying out loud.
Next she felt him grabbing her ankles and cutting trough the zip tie holding them together, then grabbing a shoulder and a thigh he flipped her almost effortless onto her stomach. Causing her breasts to smash into the surface of her desk. This might have been a blessing in disguise since it prevented her face from crashing into the hard smooth mahogany. But even without the use of natural “airbags” she might not have hurt herself to much, she would never know if it had happened by accident or design, her nose ended up right in the pile of her discarded panties. But she hadn’t had much time to ponder the question, with a sudden movement of his foot he kicked her legs apart, and she found them kept apart by his legs and knees. And the next sound, filled her office again like the thunderclap, she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being opened. Realizing what was going to happen next, she began to fight hard against the intruder, but he easily pinned her to the table using his own weight to his advantage.
Leaning forward he spoke quietly into her ear “please remember Senator, you enabled those copper people to rape the land, well you will have a better understanding of that fact very soon.” She felt something warm, lining up with the entrance to her vagina, and without any further preamble he pushed his hips into her, impaling her fully on his dick. Tamara Wesslin had not been aroused, in any way prepared or even in a state of relaxation. So this time the sudden violation of her tender, but very dry sex, made her feel like somebody was pouring molten iron into her inside, and she screamed in pain.
Her attacker didn’t care; he began to pump her in a steady rhythm, causing her unbearable agony with every thrust. When her hollering got too loud for him, he simply twisted his hands in her hair, and pressed her face into the cloth in front of her. But for the most time he preferred to hold her upright by the hair, her breasts just off the table, but pushing down hard with each thrust forward. After what felt like an eternity to Tamara Wesslin, she felt his member quiver inside her, and she prepared herself for the final indignity, her rapist was going to cum in her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging. With a slight groan of satisfaction, she felt the warmth of his seed deep inside her.
He withdrew from her, stepped back and flipped her onto her back again. Most likely reasoning that she would have a harder time getting up this way, which was perfectly true with her lower legs just swinging over the corner of the desk. Stepping around the table he approached her face, she could clearly see the residual coating of cum on his penis.
“If you believe, I’m going to clean that disgusting thing off, you are shit out of luck, buster.” She fired of a salvo of snark.
“Senator, I wouldn’t put anything precious to me into that vile mouth of yours. But I do agree, a bit clean up is in order.”
He slowly wiped his semi flaccid penis left and right along her cheeks, making particular sure to pass close to her nose on both sides. Finally he grabbed a handful of her lush hair and continued to wipe his cock clean with it.
Tamara Wesslin began to wonder why she had thought only moments ago, that her humiliation couldn’t get any worse than her rapist cumming inside her. She had obviously being wrong, and tears of desperation began to form in her eyes, but she fought them down.
The man had retrieved his razor again and held it open in his hand, the light reflecting from the wicked blade. She stammered “What are you doing with this knife?”
“Senator this isn’t a knife this is a razor, and usually it is utilized to remove hair. I would recommend you not to move. I would hate for you to be cut in any sensitive spot.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I thought we had been over this before. Part of your crimes, was the stripping of the land of any natural growth, stripping you of your clothes does not match that crime wouldn’t you agree?”
Before she could reply, he pried her legs apart and started to scrape at her pubic mound. She was terrified, this lunatic was shaving her pubic hair off, even worse he was doing this as a dry shave, causing immense discomfort.
Tamara Wesslin had never been a fan of shaving her pubic hair, she tended to get rashes, and she felt a shaven pussy not very lady like. Now she was shaved by a stranger that had just recently raped her. And again the junior Senator of the great state of Colorado experienced a new level of humiliation. Which didn’t decrease, as he pulled out her labia, commenting on the cum dripping out of her whore’s hole as he called it, or pulling apart her butt cheeks to get better access.
She had held back the tears before, but as he grabbed her long tresses of hair and began hacking it off, she first protested, and begged but he only repeated “stripped of all natural growth”, and continued to throw her beautiful hair all over the room, leaving her with some isolated tufts of hair, crying in long rivers, her make up a total mess.
Tamara Wesslin was a broken woman, with apathy she noticed he had put a little bottle on the table, reading KY Jelly. “I’m new to this but I have heard anal sex can be very painful for both parties if no lube is used. Honestly I don’t care so much for pain.” Speaking this he began to smear big gobs over his returned erection. As it proved Wesslin wasn’t much more for pain either, she passed out.
15 minutes later the intruder moved quickly away from the main entrance of the Capitol. He had dropped the naked and unconscious Senator there. With lipstick he had written on her chest a web address where he had posted the confession video. Overall he felt very satisfied with the night’s events. He would place an anonymous tip with the post, they would never print a picture of the Senator in her current state, but they might be intrigued by the affair to dig a bit into what kind of money the senator had accepted.
But what to do next, perhaps Congressman Miller? That corrupt creep had sold oil drilling rights in a territory meant to be a state park. He also had a college age daughter, perhaps it would be appropriate to show the congressman how drilling in virgin territory really looked like.
The end.
