I was thinking of the night that you opened your apartment door and stepped inside. You reached to turn on the light when he grabbed you from behind and slammed you up against the wall. Your cheek stung as it hit the wall, but it was partially cushioned by his hand covering your mouth.
As he kicked the door shut with his foot, he growled in your ear, "Don't make a sound, or I'll hurt you."
Before you could stomp his instep or scratch his arm, the things I had taught you to do, he had your wrists in his hands. He twisted your arms behind you, and you felt handcuffs clamp on one wrist, then the other.
His arm scooped you up around the waist, pulling you off the floor an inch or so and repositioning you facing the wall at a distance of two or three feet. Then he used his upper body as a lever and bent you over causing your forehead to bump the wall, dazing you.
You were in an awkward position, bent forward at the waist, holding yourself up with your cheek against the wall. You felt him fiddling with your pants unsnapping and unzipping, tugging, sliding them down your hips, your thighs, letting them fall to your ankles.
You wanted so much to scream, but you knew you were at his mercy. If he wanted to hurt you... or worse... you couldn't prevent it. But he was going to hurt you, violate you in the most intimate way... and you couldn't prevent that either.
You whimpered, "No, please. Please don't." And his reaction was to tear at your panties, snapping the elastic apart and ripping them from your bottom.
You felt his hands down your buttocks, down the back of your thighs and then up the inside of your thighs all the way to the top. You tried to struggle, but he grabbed your wrists and snarled, "Don't move unless I tell you to."
And he ran his fingertips along the lips of your vagina. Please, you thought, please don't let him put those inside of me. For a second, it seemed as if your prayer was answered, because he took his fingers away. But then they returned, dripping with saliva, and they pushed between your lips and into you.
This wasn't lovemaking, this was rape. He was forcing his fingers into you and you tensed up with fear, anger and loathing, making him push even harder and cause even more pain. You moaned.
Maybe he mistook your moan for pleasure, because he began to work his fingers in and out of you harder, faster. And somehow, despite your anger and fear and loathing, your body began to respond. Your muscles relaxed a bit, and you began to produce your own moisture.
And then he stepped back. You could tell he was doing something behind you, you could guess and then you felt him force his manhood into you, confirming your guess. You tensed again, trying to exclude him, but in vain. The tense muscles grabbing onto his shaft heightened his pleasure, so he used more force to set up his rhythm.
In and out, pounding you, slapping his thighs against your buttocks, your face pressing harder against the wall, you were his plaything, his toy. He was using you for his pleasure, and you had no control. You felt his thrusting become faster, harder, penetrating you deeper. You knew he was reaching climax. Oh god, was he wearing a condom?
No he wasn’t. His fluid shot into you, not warm and orgasmic as you were used to from a lover, but hot and acid, as if your hatred made it burn in you.
At least it's over, you thought.
And then he grabbed your hair and forced you to your knees. He walked around you and stood before you. His cock was stiff, glistening, dripping fluid from its tip.He grabbed your hair, and you knew what he wanted. As if reading your mind, he whispered, "If you hurt me, they'll find your body in pieces." The thought that someone could say those words to you, and mean them literally, drained all the anger out of you and replaced it with sheer terror. You began to lose bladder control, a warm wetness leaking out of you.
He didn't notice. He just stuck his cock up to your mouth and pressed your head against it. He twisted a handful of your hair to prompt you to do what he wanted, and you did, you parted your lips and took the head of his cock in your mouth.
He pulled your head, forcing his cock past your tongue, gagging you. You almost vomited. He eased up, and then used a more gentle pressure to sync the rhythm of your head rocking back and forth with his cock thrusting in and out. Still, from time to time you gagged a bit.
He began to move faster, press harder. It was more difficult to keep from gagging, and your jaw was aching from keeping your mouth wide open. Then he climaxed again, and you struggled to swallow his cum without choking on it. He held your head tight against his cock until the fluid stopped flowing.
Surely he was done now, you thought. He'll leave now.
You dared to hope as he pulled up his underwear and pants. Then he picked you up around your waist and carried you under one arm to your bedroom. You tried to kick your pants off from your ankles, but their wetness made them unmanageable and your shoes got in the way.
He tossed you onto the bed, face down. He'll tie me up and leave me, you thought, so I can't call the police until he's long gone. That's what he'll do.
But he didn't. You heard him going through your cosmetics on the dresser. He must have found what he wanted, because the noises stopped.
He pulled you up with your bottom in the air and your face down on the bed. You felt him spread your cheeks apart and slather something cold and slippery between them. Oh, no, you thought, he's not going to and then a finger slid into your ass, up to the knuckle. You bit the bedspread to keep from making a noise. He worked the finger in and out, and then you felt a second finger join it. It felt like he was trying to tear your sphincter apart. You concentrated on relaxing to avoid being damaged. And then he stopped, his fingers in you but not moving.
And you knew he was pulling his pants down again and getting himself hard, even without looking. And you braced yourself for what you knew was coming. And then it came. His cock worming its way into your ass, the tip first, pressing, pushing, insinuating itself deeper with each thrust, until it slid past the sphincter and all the way into you. He grunted with pleasure as it did.
Now he started to pump, thrusting deep into your rectum with his cock. You bit hard on the bedspread and tried to open your ass to him, to minimize the screaming pain.
He fucked you and fucked you, plunging his cock into your ass without caring how it hurt you. Harder and faster he fucked you, harder and faster, his breathing turning into gasps and grunts and then he came in you. You felt his cum oozing in you, you felt his cock become more slippery, and you felt it as it lost rigidity and became limp, slipping out of you.
Now he reached for a pair of your pantyhose from your dresser, and he tied them around your wrists, allowing him to take off the handcuffs. He took another pair of pantyhose and tied your ankles together without taking off your pissed-on pants. He tied your wrists to your ankles, leaving you fairly helpless.
And then he picked up your head by your hair and reached around to stuff a pair of fluffy socks into your mouth. Another pair of pantyhose wrapped around your head held the gag in place. You concentrated on breathing through your nose.
Did he slip away right then? Did he stay to watch you, trussed up, unable to escape? Or did he rifle your apartment for valuables or souvenirs? You didn't know.
An hour or so later you managed to free yourself from the restraints. Shaken, sore, scared you heard your computer chime at you. Wanting a bit of normalcy back in your night, you turn on the monitor and see the message blinking at you.
Enjoyed finally meeting you, can't wait to see you again. Only next time, I won't be so gentle.
---chat user 106954---
As he kicked the door shut with his foot, he growled in your ear, "Don't make a sound, or I'll hurt you."
Before you could stomp his instep or scratch his arm, the things I had taught you to do, he had your wrists in his hands. He twisted your arms behind you, and you felt handcuffs clamp on one wrist, then the other.
His arm scooped you up around the waist, pulling you off the floor an inch or so and repositioning you facing the wall at a distance of two or three feet. Then he used his upper body as a lever and bent you over causing your forehead to bump the wall, dazing you.
You were in an awkward position, bent forward at the waist, holding yourself up with your cheek against the wall. You felt him fiddling with your pants unsnapping and unzipping, tugging, sliding them down your hips, your thighs, letting them fall to your ankles.
You wanted so much to scream, but you knew you were at his mercy. If he wanted to hurt you... or worse... you couldn't prevent it. But he was going to hurt you, violate you in the most intimate way... and you couldn't prevent that either.
You whimpered, "No, please. Please don't." And his reaction was to tear at your panties, snapping the elastic apart and ripping them from your bottom.
You felt his hands down your buttocks, down the back of your thighs and then up the inside of your thighs all the way to the top. You tried to struggle, but he grabbed your wrists and snarled, "Don't move unless I tell you to."
And he ran his fingertips along the lips of your vagina. Please, you thought, please don't let him put those inside of me. For a second, it seemed as if your prayer was answered, because he took his fingers away. But then they returned, dripping with saliva, and they pushed between your lips and into you.
This wasn't lovemaking, this was rape. He was forcing his fingers into you and you tensed up with fear, anger and loathing, making him push even harder and cause even more pain. You moaned.
Maybe he mistook your moan for pleasure, because he began to work his fingers in and out of you harder, faster. And somehow, despite your anger and fear and loathing, your body began to respond. Your muscles relaxed a bit, and you began to produce your own moisture.
And then he stepped back. You could tell he was doing something behind you, you could guess and then you felt him force his manhood into you, confirming your guess. You tensed again, trying to exclude him, but in vain. The tense muscles grabbing onto his shaft heightened his pleasure, so he used more force to set up his rhythm.
In and out, pounding you, slapping his thighs against your buttocks, your face pressing harder against the wall, you were his plaything, his toy. He was using you for his pleasure, and you had no control. You felt his thrusting become faster, harder, penetrating you deeper. You knew he was reaching climax. Oh god, was he wearing a condom?
No he wasn’t. His fluid shot into you, not warm and orgasmic as you were used to from a lover, but hot and acid, as if your hatred made it burn in you.
At least it's over, you thought.
And then he grabbed your hair and forced you to your knees. He walked around you and stood before you. His cock was stiff, glistening, dripping fluid from its tip.He grabbed your hair, and you knew what he wanted. As if reading your mind, he whispered, "If you hurt me, they'll find your body in pieces." The thought that someone could say those words to you, and mean them literally, drained all the anger out of you and replaced it with sheer terror. You began to lose bladder control, a warm wetness leaking out of you.
He didn't notice. He just stuck his cock up to your mouth and pressed your head against it. He twisted a handful of your hair to prompt you to do what he wanted, and you did, you parted your lips and took the head of his cock in your mouth.
He pulled your head, forcing his cock past your tongue, gagging you. You almost vomited. He eased up, and then used a more gentle pressure to sync the rhythm of your head rocking back and forth with his cock thrusting in and out. Still, from time to time you gagged a bit.
He began to move faster, press harder. It was more difficult to keep from gagging, and your jaw was aching from keeping your mouth wide open. Then he climaxed again, and you struggled to swallow his cum without choking on it. He held your head tight against his cock until the fluid stopped flowing.
Surely he was done now, you thought. He'll leave now.
You dared to hope as he pulled up his underwear and pants. Then he picked you up around your waist and carried you under one arm to your bedroom. You tried to kick your pants off from your ankles, but their wetness made them unmanageable and your shoes got in the way.
He tossed you onto the bed, face down. He'll tie me up and leave me, you thought, so I can't call the police until he's long gone. That's what he'll do.
But he didn't. You heard him going through your cosmetics on the dresser. He must have found what he wanted, because the noises stopped.
He pulled you up with your bottom in the air and your face down on the bed. You felt him spread your cheeks apart and slather something cold and slippery between them. Oh, no, you thought, he's not going to and then a finger slid into your ass, up to the knuckle. You bit the bedspread to keep from making a noise. He worked the finger in and out, and then you felt a second finger join it. It felt like he was trying to tear your sphincter apart. You concentrated on relaxing to avoid being damaged. And then he stopped, his fingers in you but not moving.
And you knew he was pulling his pants down again and getting himself hard, even without looking. And you braced yourself for what you knew was coming. And then it came. His cock worming its way into your ass, the tip first, pressing, pushing, insinuating itself deeper with each thrust, until it slid past the sphincter and all the way into you. He grunted with pleasure as it did.
Now he started to pump, thrusting deep into your rectum with his cock. You bit hard on the bedspread and tried to open your ass to him, to minimize the screaming pain.
He fucked you and fucked you, plunging his cock into your ass without caring how it hurt you. Harder and faster he fucked you, harder and faster, his breathing turning into gasps and grunts and then he came in you. You felt his cum oozing in you, you felt his cock become more slippery, and you felt it as it lost rigidity and became limp, slipping out of you.
Now he reached for a pair of your pantyhose from your dresser, and he tied them around your wrists, allowing him to take off the handcuffs. He took another pair of pantyhose and tied your ankles together without taking off your pissed-on pants. He tied your wrists to your ankles, leaving you fairly helpless.
And then he picked up your head by your hair and reached around to stuff a pair of fluffy socks into your mouth. Another pair of pantyhose wrapped around your head held the gag in place. You concentrated on breathing through your nose.
Did he slip away right then? Did he stay to watch you, trussed up, unable to escape? Or did he rifle your apartment for valuables or souvenirs? You didn't know.
An hour or so later you managed to free yourself from the restraints. Shaken, sore, scared you heard your computer chime at you. Wanting a bit of normalcy back in your night, you turn on the monitor and see the message blinking at you.
Enjoyed finally meeting you, can't wait to see you again. Only next time, I won't be so gentle.
---chat user 106954---
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