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From: purfect9@aol.com (Purfect 9)
Subject: Waterpark Rapist
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DISCLAIMER: The following copyrighted story contains sex, violence,
and a thong bikini. It is not suitable for residents of Dade County
Fla. Or Pioria, Ill.   ALL READERS MUST BE OVER 21!  If you are
squeamish about rape, go elsewhere.  The following story contains
violence and sex, combined. (yikes!) Due to its content, it should not
be read by anyone.  PARTICULARLY anyone who is under 21, either in age
or IQ.  Also, if your locale does not recognize the first amendment to
the US Constitution (for instance, if you live in parts of Georgia or
Iowa), you may be forbidden to read on. Check your local laws, and
ALWAYS, I mean ALWAYS vote Libertarian.  Also, you are NOT encouraged
to try this with your girlfriend. Trust me, guys, she'll get pissed
and it won't be worth it.  

And while I always appreciate hearing from critics and fans
alike,(without encouragement, I figure, why post?) the answer to the
FAQ's are: NO, I won't custom write stories for you; NO I won't mail
you additional stories; NO, I won't give permission for you to publish
this story elsewhere; NO, I won't meet you at a motel (or anywhere).
But thanks for asking.  OK here's a YES answer: Yes, I do have a pic.
It's on my non-comercial home-page:
http://www.members.aol.com/purfect9/index.html   and now, on with the
story:


WATERPARK RAPIST When his dad retired from the architecture firm he
had founded, he left his son in charge of the day to day operations of
the company.  Their final client was the builder of a new water theme
park.  Cliff supervised as the contractor worked overtime on the final
structure in that park, a giant waterslide. The overtime paid off, and
the slide with its maze of tunnels was completed 8 days before the
parks grand opening.  The gates were locked, and the workers all went
home for the last time. 

Eight days!  Cliff had to work fast.  He returned every night after
dark and worked 'till almost dawn, making secret alterations in the
structure of the slide.  Using leftover parts and construction
equipment left on the scene, he added a secret trap door in one of the
chutes, which dropped to an underground concrete bunker directly
beneath the slide.  From there a "torpedo tube" ran several hundred
yards into the ocean, well past the sandy bathing area where the slide
let out.   Cliff, knowing that he would be laid off after this
project, had applied for a job at the new water park weeks before.  He
was hired as a waterslide attendant, morning shift.

The weather was beautiful as he began his shift on Grand Opening Day.
But as morning turned to afternoon the mercury climbed to over 100*
and the waterslide became the most popular attraction. He had never
seen such skimpy bikinis! One girl couldn't have been more than
nineteen but she had the biggest breasts in the park, straining to be
free from a tiny electric blue bikini top.  The matching thong also
caught his attention, as did the fact she seemed to be alone in the
park. As he told her to "go" (that was his primary duty, to make sure
that at least 15 seconds passed between each slider) he reached into
his pocket and pressed the trap door remote.  By the time he said "go"
to the next slider, the trap door was closed and the girl in the blue
bikini was sliding down a much steeper slope, and then suddenly
landing, to her shock, on a waterbed mattress in a small, damp room
with concrete walls.

The room had only one light, built into the wall like you might see
underwater in a pool or hot tub.  Obviously water resistant, and that
was good, because a huge wave of water had accompanied her into the
room, and a trickle still flowed down the chute she arrive in.  There
was also water leaking from a round manhole cover hinged and bolted
over a chute in the opposite wall.  The only thing not waterproof in
the jail cell sized room was a small Walkman, with a tape in it.  She
hit 'play'.

"I'll be in to see you as soon as my shift is over.  Please remove
your swimsuit and hang it on the hook to dry.  Feel free to scream and
try to escape if it makes you feel better.  If you're thirsty, there
is a faucet near the chute, and also a fold out porta-potty. Looking
forward to seeing you, bye."

Dawn didn't scream or try to escape.  Nor did she remove her bikini.
She lay on the mattress and waited, and it wasn't long before the man
hole cover swung open, letting in a rush of water.  A young man
climbed in, removed his scuba gear, and closed the airlock door. She
recognized him.  He was the waterslide attendant.  She had thought he
was kinda cute, but now trembled in fear as he approached.  "Are you
here to rescue me?" she asked, hopefully.

"Hardly.  I'm here to fuck you."  She recognized his voice from the
tape.  

"Are you going to hurt me?" 

"Yes" he replied simply, while ripping the thong off her, followed by
her top, which let her enormous, boobs bounce free.  He threw her face
down onto the watermattress, parted her buttocks, and pressed his big
dick into her crack.   With no lube, it took a lot of pressing to get
inside, but once it popped past the tiny little hole, she knew he was
going to go in all the way.

"no. please stop, please take it out." She moaned, but he didn't even
slow down.  Soon, he was buried to the hilt, and then he began to fuck
furiously in and out of her butt.  Meanwhile, his hands wandered from
her buttocks up to her massive tits.  "These are what got you in
trouble, baby.  My plan was to go for the best tits in the park, and
today they belong to you. But now they're mine."

After he exploded deep in her ass, he pulled out and they both rested
for a minute, both catching their breath.  "Are you gonna kill me
now?" she asked, weakly.

"Not exactly, but the only way out of here is through that tunnel,
400' long to the ocean.  Without scuba gear, I'd say you're chances
holding you're breath that far are pretty bleak.  And as you can see,
there's only one set of scuba gear."

Enraged that he would sacrifice her life just so he could butt-fuck
her, the enormity of the violation caught up with her.  No way was her
last experience on this Earth going to be a brutal anal rape.  As she
sat up, her anus tried to re-seal itself, and a trickle of semen ooze
out onto her inner thigh.  This caused her anger to explode.  In one
fluid motion, she stood up, swung around, and kicked him in the head.
Startled, he too stood up, poised to clobber her in the face, but
before he could connect, her shin slammed between his legs, kicking
his testicles up into his belly with a blow that lifted him off the
ground.  As he doubled over, her leg came up again, the knee meeting
his nose.   Then her palms clapped onto his ears, her thumbs gouging
into his eye sockets before letting him collapse onto the ground.  A
few more brutal kicks to the kidneys and she fell back onto the
mattress, shocked at her own actions.  "NO!"

She shouted.  Then she realized she had been shouting the word NO with
every blow she had delivered, just like they taught her in
self-defense class.  She took a slow deep breath and began to compose
her thoughts.

Looking down at his broken body, she realized he was still breathing,
but in no condition to answer her questions about how to get the hell
out of here.   She would have to figure it out herself.  She knotted
together the pieces of her torn bikini top and put it on. The thong
could not be saved, so she put on his suit instead.  Then she did her
best at strapping on the scuba gear, and began to breathe through the
mouthpiece to get used to it.  She opened the manhole cover and
climbed into the tube, closing it behind her.  Inside, she found an
identical cover, and when she opened that, the ocean rushed in.  She
swam forward through the pipe, finally surfacing some distance from
the beach area where people were happily splashing into the water from
the very slide from which her long journey had begun. 

She shucked off the scuba stuff, letting it sink.  She swam to shore,
walked home, and drew a hot bubble bath.  She had a lot of thinking to
do.  If she called the police, they would save him.  Sure, he would go
to prison, but he would be paroled soon, free to rape again just like
her first rapist.

She though back to that awful nite nearly four years ago when she had
accepted a ride from a stranger in a van.  Raped, beaten, sodomized,
just like all his other victims.  But she was the only one willing to
testify.  Raped, beaten, and sodomized by the court as well, when they
sentenced him to just six years in jail, which really meant less than
four.  He would be free next week.

Still, her prior rape did have one benefit she now saw: It had
prompted her to take the self-defense class that had saved her life
today.  No, the police would not be necessary.  Justice would take
place all by itself in this case.  The man would either rot in his own
concrete tomb, or drown trying to escape; the very fate he had planned
for her.  She tossed his swimsuit into the trash, instinctively going
through the pockets first.   Inside, on his key chain was what looked
like a car alarm remote, but was actually labeled "trap door" (!)

Two days later, a sheriff deputy was at her door.  She was almost
ready to blurt out her confession when he told her he had been sent to
inform her, regretfully, that her convicted rapist was being released
from prison after serving 42 months of a six year sentence.  He would
be moving into an apartment 2 blocks away, the officer said, giving
her the address as required by law.

A plan began to take shape.  She gave a weeks notice at her job,
dictating that they mail her last check to the rape crisis center
where she had learned self-defense.  Then she filled out a job
application at the water park, (she knew they would be needing a new
waterslide attendant).  Her good looks got her hired on the spot. 

She sent the parolee a free pass to the Water Park.  Just the pass, no
note, no return address.  Just bait.  

He recognized her when he reached the top of the slide.  He smiled and
winked at her, "Hey baby, what time you get off work.  I'll give you a
ride home!"  He laughed sitting in the trough and preparing to slide
down.  

"You should have gotten life." She whispered to him as he pushed off,
and as she pushed the trap door remote.  She smiled, pleased with the
perfect crime she had just committed.  Perfect in that the crime
actually created justice.   Perfect in that the crime would never be
solved.  Perfect because the "victim" would never be missed.  People
do disappear while attempting to flee parole.

The rape crisis center kept a bulletin board of known sex offenders
moving into the community.  The state had a law requiring that these
people register themselves as offenders whenever they moved.  She
copied down these addresses using them to send anonymous free passes
for water park admission.  And when she recognized one at the top of
her slide, she smiled at him, knowing that he would soon be joining
her rapists in a damp watery prison; one which offered no parole.



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