Dawn Hillman was in no position to defend herself. Hanging upside down from the
contraption with her hands barely touching the floor, she was acutely aware in the
darkness that engulfed her through the blindfold, that her legs were spread wide apart and
she was completely naked and exposed. Then she felt something that rested menacingly
between her legs, right on top of her sex. Instinct told her the pain was about to start
again, but the gag in her mouth meant little sound would come out.

                                 ***

It had been a grey, murky day and Dawn Hillman was looking forward to a warm bath. Her
day as a temp in the city office where she had been placed by the agency had been boring
to the extreme. The journey on the London Underground back to her flat in Suburbia had
been grimy and, as usual, the carriage had been packed with seemingly countless other
sweaty, grimy bodies all intent on making their way out of the metropolis as quickly as
possible.
     Dawn turned the key on the outside door and shut out the dank, evening air, the
thoughts of the bath already fully occupying her mind. She could already feel the soft,
luxurious bubbles as they pampered every inch of her attractive body. She passed quickly
through the communal hallway and was half-way up the stairs to her flat before the door
downstairs opened.
     “You got a visitor,” the ageing woman called after her, but Dawn was preoccupied
with her thoughts and failed to hear the woman. The old woman shut her own door and went
back to the television that was playing loudly in the background. As she went, she
muttered to herself, “so you won’t be interested in knowing he’s waiting for you upstairs
either. Bloody young un’s never take us seriously.”
     Dawn turned the key in her own front door and slipped inside. She popped on the hall
light and headed straight for the bathroom. The taps were soon running, filling the vessel
with hot water. Steam began to rise from the water and a misty condensate slowly edged its
way over the mirror on the wall. Dawn splashed some foam bath from a bottle under the
running tap and then went to her bedroom. She turned on the radio, just loud enough to
mask the sound from the television downstairs. She undressed slowly. 
     Dawn Hillman had a good figure. She was only in her mid twenties and was a tall girl
at just under six feet. She had dark hair that flowed down to her mid back. Her steel-blue
eyes shone brightly. She had a trim figure, firm from the weight training and other
exercise she did on a regular basis, and she had full, firm breasts, the kind men would
stare at for an uncomfortable length of time while on the train journey. Dawn was, much to
her friend’s envy, an attractive young woman.
     She peeled off the white blouse and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor
as her breasts sprang from behind the support into full view. Dawn cuddled them playfully,
in a good mood as she heard the bath filling.
She slipped off her black trousers and the thin black thong beneath and looked at herself
in the bedroom mirror. She admired her figure for several moments, idly caressing
herself.
     Dawn was single, very much so, but the new man in her life was caring and
affectionate, if not a bit of a prude. Her long term boyfriend and fiancé was now
off the scene, ever since he’d found her in bed with one of his mates. Since then, she’d
met a few men but none as appealing as the current one. 
When engaged only a few months back, she had been talking about house hunting, even
marriage, but then Dawn had strayed into the arms of Adam. Now Michael, her fiancé,
had taken exception to her dalliance and had finished with her, leaving Dawn alone in her
flat, alone and labelled a slut, denounced by her former friends and left on her own to
wallow in the awful misdemeanour she had perpetrated. Adam had gone too. Ashamed that he
had been the not so innocent partner in the misdemeanour, he had moved away, a long way
away, so as to avoid Michael’s wrath.
     Dawn had moved on. The ending of her engagement to Michael had been nearly three
months ago and this particular evening she was getting ready to go out and tonight she had
a desire for sex. Brad would be waiting for her outside the cinema at eight o’clock. She’d
met him twice before, both platonic occasions,  civil meetings in a crowded bar. She liked
Brad. He was tall, muscular and friendly without being over-bearing. On the occasion they
had kissed, Dawn had closed in on him, only to feel his rampant manhood pressing into her
stomach, a clear sign he was turned on by the way she looked and acted. Yet, there was
something in his demeanour, something he had said, that worried Dawn, so she decided to
keep her past deception and unfaithfulness a secret – at least until she knew Brad a whole
lot more and, hopefully, he was hooked on her.
     Looking back on her time with Michael, Dawn had realised why she had strayed –
simply because she wasn’t happy. Michael was a control freak. He wanted everything his own
way and he had stifled Dawn to the extent that she had become little more than his poodle
(with apologies to the canine variety).  Michael had expected her to be there at his beck
and call, keeping house for him, doing the cooking, cleaning and laundry, as well as
attend to his carnal desires and keeping down a full time job. Dawn frowned when she
thought of the sex games Michael had made her participate in. She’d hated them, they were
not natural – well, not to her. They had been times she had had to endure and though she
had told Michael she enjoyed them she was glad they were over with now he had gone. For a
moment, Dawn wondered if Brad would ever want to participate in games of bondage and
spanking and she hoped he would not. She had  wanted more than a dominant, over-bearing
tyrant for a partner, so she had strayed. It had, she reflected, been a purely deliberate
act of betrayal but she had hardly expected Michael to react with such force and to have
been so forthright about the end of their relationship.
     “Sod him!” Dawn exclaimed with a degree of joy in her voice as she stepped out of
the bedroom, across the narrow hallway and into her bathroom. The bath was full of foam
and steaming water, just the way she liked it.
     For no good reason other than it was a habit, she closed the door. The light from
the hallway shone under the gap between door and floor, the light out there being more
powerful than the relatively dim light in the bathroom.
     Dawn stepped into the water and in a moment her body was covered in the soapy
bubbles. The sound of her radio in the bedroom mixed with that of the television on the
floor below but Dawn was not listening to either of them. Under the foam she lazily began
to rub her hands over her legs and stomach, rubbing the bubbles into her skin. As she did
so, she began to look forward to the evening with Brad. Perhaps, she thought, tonight
would be a good time to invite him back in for coffee after the movie and then see where
things went. She wasn’t afraid of inviting him back. She was a fit, young woman who had
some training in self-defence and anyway, she knew where Brad lived and worked so he was
very unlikely to try anything on she didn’t want. As her hands caressed her silky, shaven
legs, Dawn began to think she might want an awful lot from Brad later on. It had been some
time since she’d had a really good fuck and she wanted one now. 
     She caressed her breasts and the desire increased as her nipples stiffened under her
soapy touch. Absent-mindedly one hand trailed down her stomach, over the landing strip of
public hair she had not shaven off and found her slit. She was wet from the bath, of
course, but Dawn knew she was also wet from her own arousal. He middle finger sought out
and found her clitoris. She stroked it with her fingernail, something that always created
the most exquisite sensations of pleasure for her.
     Dawn moaned softly as her masturbation became more intense, her finger rubbing the
now-hard bud of her clitoris, stimulating her in the way she knew would soon bring her to
orgasm.
     She didn’t hear the creak of the floorboard outside the bathroom door. She continued
to approach her climax, now arching her back and lifting her breasts clear of the foam. 
The handle on the door was being depressed, first silently and then, as the handle neared
the point where the door would yield, there was a faint click. At that moment the orgasm
was lost as Dawn looked with horror at the door handle that was almost at the bottom of
its travel.