THE RAPIST’S DIARIES – SERIES 1
Reported by: Anuvab Chattopadhyay
Image Source: Google
Man, I couldn’t stop looking at her walk past in the alley! Slim, lithe and how those tits just bounced up and down. What did they say her name was? Rashmi. Sexy. Period. I’ve been erupting here..erupting at my day job..erupting back at home….erupting in the alley..my euphoria culminating in a wave of little silverfish that stream out of my pants every time I see her. She’s nothing like the mother whose coarse boobs I stopped liking after class VIII, nothing like the perennially flat chested, unattractive sister who’s good for only a brush or two…LCD LCD, I remember the shrill screams of Jagdish and Ismail whenever they saw her. She’s soft..almost a bar of what they call premium Glycerin soap beyond my pocket…those lips..nothing like my buck toothed wife in whose body I only discover newer feverish warts of stinking maggoty poverty each night. Nothing like the mole near her lips in full bloom. And I dream again only to freshly erupt in shaking, hideous waves over the moth eaten mattress.
And then I sit up and think. Something has to be done. I just can’t take it anymore.
Step 1- Information
She goes for dance practice at 8. Comes back late at 10. Passes through the alley where the oldies turn off their lights post 9. What a foolish mother of hers! Should you reveal so much to the gas delivery boy (my old pal)?
Step 2- Back Up
Only a cloth would do. Chloroform? No that would be too expensive. I’ll go with a fierce tug instead and a little knife that Bachcha will lend me from his collection.
What’s the compensation amount again? 50, 000? Or a lakh? I did get loads of votes you know..who captured Tentuli Bagan’s booths with other workers? I did. Period. Big Brother was never this lenient. Big Sister is kind. She and Haran Da will definitely fork out the money. After all, instead of asking for it during the Pujas, I’ll forfeit my yearly allowance just for this one tryst. Seems unnatural but that’s just how far you can go for love.
There she is at the mouth of the lane..wearing that tight checked dress of hers..I know how much fun I’ll have tearing it up….She comes closer and closer….
Frenzy. Feverish Frenzy. Dress ripping boob squeezing frenzy.
Easing in to bliss with a knife tip playing guard. Thrust. Thrust harder asshole..This is the chance of a lifetime…Keep the mouth clamped shut. Shit if only two hands could be used….Spurt..Spurt pain. Spurt rage..Spurt futility…Spurt fear..fear of a darkening sky over a helpless landscape….
I love you! I love you! I love you!
Dr. Banerjee (retd.), on his way to the bathroom, suddenly glimpsed a naked, motionless female body fall with a huge thud! The kind where sound travels faster than light..a portent of things to come?
To be continued…..
*On The Rox presents this as a work of fiction and possible analysis into various sides of an essentially psycho-physical nightmare, namely rape…..all characters are essentially fictitious in the same way that writers draw inspiration from society and living beings. Read at your own discretion.