I’m cheating. Season 12 of Diablo 3 came out and I’ve been enjoying my “free” time there. So I slacked on writing. You get a story I wrote a while ago. This story involves consensual non-consent. Sometimes that means what I have with my boyfriend: he can do anything he wants to me any time without discussing it first. I can ALWAYS call “red”, but it would take a lot. We have this arrangement because I trust him in a way I’ve never trusted anyone before. In the case of the following story it is what some might call fulfilling a rape fantasy. I don’t like calling it that because its not rape….consent is involved (red will always stop a scenario no matter what) even if it walks a fine edge. If this isn’t your thing move on. If it is….enjoy.
Just a note: this contains consenual non-conscent stuff if anyone finds that disturbing.
He’s supposed to be here somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00 and the clock on the wall says 9:15. I take a look at the front door and really considered what we agreed to. I honestly thought it would only ever be a fantasy, but now I find myself staring at a door I am about to unlock.
Originally my plan was to have him let himself in with the key I gave him some time ago.
“You know that means there will never be a doubt in your mind who it is.” He said it against my hair while I curled up in his lap on the couch. Being there was the safest place in the whole world.
“I know, but you already have a key so…”
“You could leave the door unlocked.”
With that statement my little fantasy took on a significant dose of reality. The chances of it not being him, of some stranger walking through that door at that moment and managing to do…anything…to me before he got there were pretty much zero, but the doubt would still be very real.
My heart is racing as I stand up to cross the few feet of floor to the front door of the apartment, and my stomach keeps doing summersaults. The excitement is just as tangible as the raw nerves in the ache of my thighs and the dampness of my panties. I hear a soft click as I turn the deadbolt to the right officially leaving me unguarded.
I turn and head down the hall to my bedroom barefooted. I’m wearing a little summer dress that buttons down the front and panties. The latter feels weird since I typically never wear them when he plans on coming over, but this is just supposed to be a lazy Saturday night. He has no intentions to play with me tonight.
Climbing on the bed I pick up the ear buds I laid there earlier today and plug them into my laptop. I don’t usually watch movies with ear buds, but if this is going to work I can’t know when the door opens. I can’t know he’s come in. So in the ear buds go with shaking hands, and I pick a movie that calms me down a little: Ella Enchanted.
My anxious mind is already playing out possible scenarios. What if he is evil and sends someone else? But he said that no one would play with his kitten unless she approved too, and I had not approved anyone. So now I have to do the scariest thing in the entire universe: trust him.
Lying on the bed looking away from the door the minutes tick by slowly. It’s hard not to look at the clock every few seconds waiting for a touch I’m expecting. It’s even harder not to look back at the door. It’s nearly in my line of sight as it is, but I’m supposed to be surprised or the fantasy doesn’t work. So I take a deep breath and will myself to get lost in the movie.
It works. While I’m watching it occurs to me that it’s been a while and I look at the clock on the computer to note its 10:01. He’s late or he’s decided not to do this. My phone is on the night stand so I sit up and glance at the door from the corner of my eye while taking out the ear buds. There’s no one there, and it would be a lie to say a part of me wasn’t relieved. Maybe I really didn’t want to do this. I position my hands on either side of my hips to balance myself as I get my knees under me in order to crawl across the bed to where the night stand is. I never thought to look behind me. Just before I shift forward someone grabs my wrists, and I feel metal bite into one of them and hear the buzzing click of a handcuff tightening. I scream and start to struggle, but he’s so much stronger. The other hand is locked into place and my scream is cut off by a hand pressing against my mouth.
It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. It’s not the first time my neighbors heard me scream.
He gets on the bed behind me while I struggle futilely and closes the laptop, pushing it under the pillows, before throwing me face down on top of them. I never get a chance to see him. His knee is in my back and he uses my hair to lift my head and place a blind fold over my eyes. His hand still knotted in my hair when he presses my face back into the pillows until I can no longer draw breath. It’s at that moment that the full force of what is happening hits me and I panic. The only thing I can do is kick my legs which does absolutely nothing for me. I am completely helpless.
My scalp stings as he lifts my head again and I’m grateful for that first gasp of air. My mind is racing, at once trying to reassure myself that this is him and I’m safe, and trying to think how I’m going to get away from this mad man that must want to kill me while I struggle to breathe.
My attacker slips something into my mouth and I try to push it out with my tongue, but straps tighten against my cheeks preventing that as my head drops back down again. I’m gagged. No one is going to help me now.
The stranger flips me over and I immediately try to sit up which prevents me from kicking. I’m slammed back down as a weight settles across my knees and the cuffs dig into my back. In the silence I can hear us both breathing hard. I try to speak but the ball in my mouth prevents me from saying anything intelligible. It seems like an eternity before I feel the backs of fingers on my cheek that slide down against my throat. I’m trying to decide if they are familiar, but I can’t.
I swear I hear the buttons scattering against the hard wood floor before it registers that he, it must be he, has ripped my dress open and I’m exposed. A hand roughly grabs one breast while I feel a warm wetness on the other nipple. His tongue and teeth tease lightly while fingers gently twist the other. My Sir would know this drives me mad, how badly it makes me want to feel his cock buried inside me. He doesn’t stop until I’m whimpering and attempting to arch my back in a bid for more. The pain as his teeth clamp down and his fingers twist only makes me want it more. Suddenly I don’t give a shit who this is; just fuck me.
He stops and I find myself shamefully disappointed when he does not spread my legs. He’s so silent that I would not know he was there if not for his weight, which shifts slightly with movement, across my knees pinning my legs together. He finishes destroying my dress and then metal brushes against the side of my thigh. There’s a sharp edge and I go stone still as he slips the cold steel against my skin under the edge of my panties. The flat edge of a knife digs into my hip as the sharp edge cuts through the remaining material separating me from him. He does the same to the other side and then the metal is gone. I still know he has it somewhere though.
A finger easily slides against the seam of my pussy as wet as I am. I fight out of reflex, still wrestling with whether or not this is a stranger, but I don’t really want to. When he forces that finger inside me I stop struggling. It’s what I desire. If I could speak I would beg him not to stop, but he does.
A moment later the silence is broken by the sound of a buckle clicking and clothing rustling followed by the feel of the warm soft tip of a cock against my inner thighs. He slides down my legs then until he’s sitting on my feet, and grabs my ankles before moving the rest of the way off. Fear outweighs need for a moment and I try to yank my ankles out of his hands, but he just uses the momentum to pin my knees back, and at this awkward angle with my hands cuffed under me I can’t push back.
I feel his cock press against my entrance which is now splayed open for him the way he’s pinning me. His initial thrust causes me to cry out against the gag and continue moaning while he fucks me roughly. The sounds he makes as he takes me seem familiar though a large part of me doesn’t care. My body is his and he can do with it what he wishes.
It’s long before my body tenses and the first orgasm hits hard. The climax feels almost constant as he continues using my pussy. By the time he pulls away my legs fall to the bed as if boneless. I feel the strap on the gag loosen, and I’m thinking this must be my, Sir. He’s done and he means to look after me now. The gag falls away, but a hand grabs my jaw roughly at the pressure points so I can’t close my mouth. I can hear his other hand working his cock as he grunts. A few moments later I feel something warm and thick splatter across my face. I lift my tongue, but he avoids my mouth even though I can’t close it. I would know that taste anywhere. If he came in my mouth I would know for sure it was him, but he doesn’t. I feel the tip of his cock pressed against my cheek for few moments and then he shifts away.
He’s finished with me. My body is tipped over and a cuff is unlocked. I can’t bring myself to move while I listen to him quickly grabbing things and then he’s gone. He’s never left me after a scene. Shaking, I sit up and take off the blindfold. There’s little evidence he was there besides me. I remove the other cuff with the key that was left on the dresser noting the deep grooves in my wrists. I go to the sink and use a warm wet cloth to wipe off my face not quite sure how to process all of this.
It occurs to me then that I never heard the front door open and close. I walk towards the living room in just the scraps of my dress, slowly, unsure of what I’ll find. I see him then, sitting on the couch with a contented smile on his face.
Wasting no time I curl up in his lap and immediately feel his hands arms around me. Now I can relax into all the sensations I just felt and am still feeling. Holy hell what a rush.
“I thought you left. I wasn’t sure….” I don’t even know if he can understand me with my face buried in his chest.
“Of course not.” He whispers against my hair. “How are you feeling?”
The myriad of sensations are almost overwhelming. “I don’t know. It’s all a rush.” I finally say.
“A good one I hope.” His fingers gently brush my hair through my hair and across my scalp sending me over the moon. The safest place in the world just got even safer.
“Oh yeah. Definitely a good one.”