A FANTASY TOO FAR by the Perv Otaku CHAPTER 1 * timidblondegirl screams again, her body shaking as your huge cock pounds into her over and over without mercy. She struggles helplessly against the alley wall, unable to free herself from your grip. <RuffBrute> That's right bitch, take it! * RuffBrute pulls out of you, then grabs your neck and slams your face down against a garbage can.
He rams his tool back into your cunt and resumes fucking you roughly. She moaned, reading the words on the laptop computer screen while her hands were busy thrusting a dildo into her shaved pussy and rubbing her clit. She managed to pull a hand away to type out her next response.
* timidblondegirl gasps as your hand closes around her throat, and feels her face bruise as it hits the can. She groans as you enter her again, filling her sex deeply, your balls slapping against her as you take her from behind. * RuffBrute pounds into you faster, using you harder. * timidblondegirl sobs, tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup, as you continue to use her body as your fuck toy.
She reaches out with her arms, desperate for anything she could use as a weapon. <RuffBrute> Oh no you don't! * RuffBrute grabs your arms and pins them behind your back, then slides his dick out of your pussy and starts pushing it into your asshole.
"Oh yes baby, that's right," she said quietly. She pulled the dildo from her pussy and set it aside, then reached for another, slightly smaller dildo, and moaned again as she eased it into her asshole. <timidblondgirl> No, please no, oh god, not there! * RuffBrute pushes hard, all the way up your back door in one go.
* timidblondegirl screams again, her voice echoing down the lonely alley into the night. Her ass is stretched painfully as you enter inside, burying your cock up to the hilt in her rear. * RuffBrute fucks your ass over and over, and finally grunts as he spews his hot cum into you. She rubbed her clit furiously and pushed the dildo deep up her asshole until she moaned low and long with an orgasm of her own.
After a few more moments to catch her breath, she resumed typing.
* timidblondegirl whines, still unable to move, as she feels your spunk pouring into her ass. She is barely able to still put up a struggle, not that it was doing her any good. * RuffBrute pops out of your ass and throws you to the ground.
* timidblondegirl lies there crying, beaten and battered, her pussy sore and your cum oozing from her ruined asshole. <RuffBrute> That's right, slut. That's what you get.
* RuffBrute leaves you there on the ground and walks away into the night.
<timidblondegirl> Mmmm, that was wonderful. Thanks. <RuffBrute> Yeah it was. Thank you too. <timidblondegirl> See you around. Bye. She closed out her IRC client, removed the dildo from her ass, and collapsed back onto her bed, sighing with contentment. Lots of people did cybersex roleplaying on internet chat to satisfy their kinks and fetishes, and hers was being a victim.
She played submissive or reluctant sometimes, but most enjoyed scenes where she was outright forced or raped. When she wasn't playing on IRC, she watched porn videos online with scenes of actresses being "raped" or put into bondage and whipped, abused, fucked, and used hard with fearsome toys. When it wasn't videos, it was erotica stories on various websites she knew, stories with women being raped, blackmailed or kidnapped into being a sex slave, or led by a series of circumstances into more and more depraved sex acts until the character couldn't even recognize herself anymore and had ruined her life with nothing left but nasty, kinky sex at the whim of any man that wanted her.
The more humiliation, degradation, pain, abuse, and violence a female character suffered through, the more she got off on it. She liked to pretend that she really believed that she, and women in general, only existed on this Earth to be taken, used, and abused by men as fuck toys and didn't deserve anything else.
In reality she had a fairly successful career, a nice little house at the edge of a suburban town, and was well respected among her friends and co-workers. She didn't let her kinks interfere with her normal outside life, but had long ago decided to allow herself to indulge in her fantasies freely within the closed doors of her home. She even belonged to several rape fantasy web forums.
She ran her hands up her naked body and gave her breasts one last tender squeeze before getting up. She had a petite body, but had been gifted with a marvelous pair of D-cup titties.
She slid out of bed, retrieved her panties from the floor, and pulled them up her smooth legs, covering up her shaved pussy. She gathered her sweatpants and sports bra together, and a few minutes later stepped outside the house, locking the door behind her.
She went for a jog every night before bed. Not only did it help preserve her figure, but also to her clear her head and get to sleep better. She set out on her usual route away from her neighbors' houses and into the countryside. The trees and fields made for better scenery, and the stars were clearer away from the streetlights.
She seldom saw a single car, though she had reflective tape on her clothing for safety's sake anyway. She had reached her turn-around point and was only a few minutes into the way back when it happened, very quickly and without warning. All she saw from the corner of her eye was a moving shadow, and then something grabbed her and threw her down into the grass.
She instinctively put her arms up and landed hard on her elbows. It was on her within moments, and a hand around her neck pulled her up onto her knees.
She let out a fearful whine, and tried to twist around to see her attacker. She caught a glimpse of the dark ski mask the man was using to hide his face. He reached his other hand around her, grabbed a handful of breast, and squeezed roughly. She screamed. Survival instincts took over as panic filled her.
She struggled, grunting as she fought with all her might. The arms around her managed to hold on. The hand moved from the front of her neck to the back and pushed her down, hard, bending her over at the waist and forcing her face into the ground. She screamed again, as loud as she could. He held her down as he slipped her sweatpants and panties over her ass and down to her knees.
She heard his zipper opening, felt the head of his cock against her pussy as he guided it into place. Words came back to her. "No, no, stop! Help me! Somebody!" she shouted. The only response she got was a slap to the side of her head and an erect penis pushing into her unprepared vagina.
She screamed again as his flesh painfully invaded hers. Sobbing grunts fell from her mouth as the cock fucked into her, determined to push deeper and succeeding. She whined as his body met hers, his cock now totally inside. It started getting easier as her wetness did its duty, though unwanted and tardy, but the man remained rough, pounding hard into her.
"Stop, please, stop," she begged. "Heeelp!" she screamed again. Help didn't come, and he didn't stop. He grabbed a handful of her shoulder-length hair and wrenched her head back as he slammed even harder into her cunt from behind. She yelped, and moaned, "Nooooo." Then, finally, he pulled out. It was over. He grabbed her body, flipped her onto her back, and pinned her down. It wasn't over.
She groaned and then screamed again as he reinserted his cock into her pussy and restarted the brutal fucking. He pushed her bra off of her tits and resumed treating them roughly as well. She struggled against him, hoping that the new position would grant her some better leverage, but was still unable to wrest his body away from hers.
He leaned down, put his mouth to her ear, and in a soft and sinister tone of voice, said, "All the women enjoy my cock. Especially timid blonde girls." The gasp caught in her throat. What?
No. Impossible. What? She wasn't even really blonde. Never had been. Her hair was quite dark in actuality. She realized that she had frozen up while her mind was reeling, but her assault had continued unabated. She needed to keep screaming and fighting back. Had to stay in character, after all. No. What? Scratch that second thing. The first part, just the first part.
She struggled harder, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Help meeee! Pleeeease!" Her only reward was a hard slap across her face and a cock still pounding into her pussy.
She moaned, groaned, and continued putting a token effort into trying to push the man off of her, desperation driving her even in futility to put the last of her strength towards defiance. She felt a familiar pressure growing inside her, her reward for a scene well-played. No. That was wrong. This wasn't a scene and she didn't want that reward.
She wasn't supposed to want that reward. She whimpered as it bubbled its way to the surface, unable to stop it. Her body shook and she screamed, but this time it was the orgasm causing it. The long climax passed and she fell still. The man was grunting now, louder and louder, then several final grunts as she felt his cum spraying against the deep walls of her pussy.
She panted for air, the exertion finally having caught up with her. The man pulled free, and pushed his sated cock back into his pants. She lost track of him immediately, as she was in no shape to get up and follow him or even look which direction he headed off in. She rolled onto her side and curled into the fetal position.
She wanted to cry. She also wanted to masturbate. She couldn't bring herself do to either. What the hell had just happened? She felt thoroughly violated. Physically, of course, but also her privacy had been invaded. That was no random attack. She'd been targeted, almost certainly he'd been stalking her, learning her routine and planning this out.
He clearly had known who she was and about her fetishes, and he'd wanted her to know that he knew. But how? The information available in IRC isn't so easily traced back to a single person, you have to have serious skills to pull that off. Nor is IRC just local, she'd roleplayed there with people from all over the world. Had someone come all this way just for her? And why signal that to her? To make her feel scared and vulnerable that he'd tracked her down? To inform her that he was using her to play out her own fetish?
That he thought she'd been inviting this? Did he think that by saying that name, it meant it wasn't real? She trembled as she pushed herself to her feet and got her clothing back to where it was all supposed to be on her body, then started the long and slow walk home. She should call the police, they would take a sample of the cream pie inside her cunt and get a DNA analysis. That would only help if her attacker was already in the system. If she was serious about trying to find him, she would have to tell them that he'd known her IRC nickname.
Then she would have to explain what she did on IRC. They would tell her it wasn't her fault, that what she did online did not invite a real rape.
No victim shaming here. Then after she left they would laugh at her and shove her case file into the bottom of the pile. No police, then. She arrived home and fell into bed and a fitful sleep. She didn't go jogging for several days afterwards, and she kept all the lights in her house on throughout the night. Then she decided she couldn't let this stop her from taking care of herself, and tried going out before dark, and on a route among the houses through the neighborhood.
It just wasn't the same though, and without her routine she couldn't get to sleep as easily, or maybe that was because when she closed her eyes at night she could still see that man upon her, and feel him forcing himself into her.
No, she didn't get much sleep anymore.
She did find ample resources for rape victims on the internet. For instance, she was assured by multiple sources that having an orgasm during a rape did not mean she had enjoyed it. Apparently some rapists are just so amazing at fucking they are able to force an orgasm from their victims. That must have been it, right? It couldn't have been that the mention of her online fetish persona had caused her to stop fighting back as hard as she could have.
It couldn't have been that once the brutal attack was in progress, her body couldn't distinguish reality from fetish fun as what she really craved, deep down. Of course, she had always viewed forced orgasm BDSM videos as quite exciting, and with that masked man holding her down, she'd had her strongest orgasm in recent memory. A week after her rape, she lay in bed, desperate for slumber, so incredibly tired but still unable to banish the images of the incident.
She relived it in her mind, for what seemed like the hundredth time, and was surprised to hear herself moaning. She was even more surprised to discover she was moaning because she was rubbing her clit with her fingers. She'd refrained from her IRC and her porn since that night as well, she'd been avoiding pulling them up on the computer for fear of it triggering another flashback to that night, and she hadn't gone this long without that release for ages. She suddenly realized that because she'd come through it physically intact, the rape was now little different from any of those online activities.
Merely that instead of suffering vicariously through an actress or pretend words on the screen, she was suffering via her own memory. Just like the porn and cyber roleplaying, a memory couldn't hurt her anymore, she needn't be afraid of it.
She no longer had to just imagine what getting raped felt like, either. It felt terrible, exactly like it was supposed to. She came, her long orgasmic cry echoing in her empty house, and then she started drifting off into her first restful sleep since it had happened. It was clear now. She needed— Oh God.
She needed more. Continued in Chapter 2 - - - © the Perv Otaku, 2016 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/