tagNonConsent/ReluctanceNo Mercy Ch. 01

No Mercy Ch. 01

byJaymal©

Okay Emily, let's cut to the chase here - this is the story of how I fucked a girl named Holly Greenfield. How this good girl tried exploring her secret fantasies and all the shit I got to do to her as a result. All the shit my friends and I got to do to her. How we dished out the kind of treatment she thought she wanted and then piled on the interest. It's not sweet, it's not romantic. And I'm going to tell it to you in all its hot and filthy detail. I'm going to tell you just how great it all felt. And I know you're going to read every nasty word, because that's the kind of perverted bitch you are.

You see I finally got tired of just writing pornographic fantasy, letting these fictional guys do all the screwing for me. I wanted to live some of it. Okay, I'm educated, yes I've had a white collar job all my working life, but Emily I've also got a huge, hard dick that takes a whole lot of satisfying. That wants to pound hot, wet cunt hard and often. So when I settled in London I went out amongst the city's girls and started fucking my share. Anything I found attractive I gave a 'college try', as you might say, at getting my hard cock deep inside it and I had enough success to satisfy my burning sex hunger at least partially.

But to deliver the sort of punishing dick-action that I wrote about in my fiction, to turn a girl - with or without help - into a submissive bitch, into a piece of quivering, burbling fuck-meat, all other traces of her personality erased as I took my pleasure, that was my goal. The London sex clubs provided some of what I wanted, supplying the kind of slut who just begged to be used by as many guys as possible, as nastily as they could. It was at one such club that I first teamed up with Grant and Martin - more of whom later - to shaft some sexy, unpaid whore halfway to oblivion. Yes, those cock-crazed sex-party bitches are a whole other type of fun. But none of it - none of it - was as good as doing Holly. And the guys will back me up on that.

So how did the lovely Holly and I meet? You're going to love this. She emailed me via the website where I'd been posting my sex fiction. (I've saved every word we ever sent to one other.)

Hi Jake - I just want to tell you how much I love your stories. They're so hot I can't believe it! There are passages I keep reading over and over again - I swear they keep me awake at night. Your writing is just so dirty and so bad it makes me touch myself thinking about it. Please don't stop. Thanks for all your deliciously naughty ideas. They're just what I need. Holly.

I'd received enthusiastic reviews from horny punters, male and female, but to know that some girl out there was getting off on my filth to this extent made my cock rigid with excitement as I sat at my computer. So of course I mailed her right back, thanking her and asking exactly what it was that she liked about my stuff. Her same-day response thrilled the hell out of me.

Wow, Jake, it was really sweet of you to write back! It's so good to hear from the man behind all those wicked stories! I love all your writing, but especially when it includes those bad, heartless men taking complete advantage of women. What's wrong with me, lol? Like when the secretary gets done in the office by her boss, or the girl gets gang-banged at the party. It's just so naughty I can't help but love it! I know I shouldn't... And as for the story where the older man takes the teenager back to his house and fucks her all night - I was so jealous of her. I've come so many times reading that I can't tell you! Are you planning any more? I'd love to know, Holly. X

So you see, Emily, you're not the only freak out there. And you can imagine my reaction. I pumped out a thick, hot batch from my hard cock soon as read it. My writing was 'dirty', 'wicked', 'naughty' and 'bad'. I knew this could have been anyone with whom I was communicating, but I was picturing a nice girl getting shivers at how devilish it was to even talk with me. A nice girl I could begin to toy with. I wrote back, describing a few horny ideas I had for some future stories in some explicit detail, then throwing this in at the end:

Of course I could always make up a story with you as the central character, and team you with some of those 'bad, heartless men' - if you were willing to tell me some more about yourself. Let me know what you think.

Her response was unequivocal.

Oh my God, Jake, would you? Put me in one of your stories and I swear you can do what you like to me!!! In the story, I mean, lol! What do you want to know? Holly. XXX

I told her to give me as much detail as she could on herself, her life, and most importantly her sexual experience. The more information she provided to feed into the story, the hotter it would be. I asked for a full physical description and suggested that a photograph might help, if she felt okay about sending one. Here was where the fantasy could so easily explode. What if Holly didn't come close to the babe I had in my mind? Could I be bothered to write the story after my motivation was shot to hell? If she was confident enough to send the pic, however, it would probably be sufficiently hot. And if she made do with a written description, well I could base my nasty fuck-story around a fantasy Holly.

The photograph, as it turned out, was a dick-stiffening delight. It had been taken the previous summer in Tenerife, so said the caption she had provided, and had her posing playfully on the beach. Her fair hair was tied in a ponytail, showing off her pretty, smiling face - almond-shaped green eyes, high cheekbones and even, white teeth. Her figure was slender and supple, her respectable, black bikini failing to disguise how big and protruding her tits were in relation to her modest frame. The natural copper hue of her skin, along with those rather exotic eyes, suggested some pleasing ethnic mix in her family history. That my correspondent turned out to be this charming-looking girl, so modest in her stunning beauty, made me stroke my lengthy masculinity to a full hardness. The personal detail that accompanied the photo soon had me shooting off a hot sac-ful in a fit of fierce ecstasy...

Holly Greenfield was an English Literature graduate, who was now working part-time in a library, while studying for her Masters Diploma. She was a nice, bookish girl, it seemed, who liked Italian food, foreign movies and reading the Arts reviews in the broadsheet papers. She enjoyed running and racket sports, which explained nicely toned figure. She was also fond of sex, but had ended up in a lengthy relationship with a decent, rather buttoned-up intellectual guy from her Graduate course, who while treating her as tenderly and respectfully as any girl could hope for, had not been the man to address her deepest fantasies. He had never known about her penchant for hardcore sex-stories or what she really thought about when she masturbated, and, although she did not say as much, there was no doubt this had been part of the reason the relationship foundered. She had never felt able to share with him what secretly excited her and the reason why...

I had a fling with my ex-English teacher the summer before I went to University. He was married. It was so wrong - I couldn't believe what I was doing. And no one would ever have suspected it of me, it was so out of character. I had a huge crush on him, he was funny and sweet and really clever, but the more we met up that summer, the more this other side to him came out, this wild, animal side nobody knew about. He started fucking me really hard, Jake, and calling me names as he did it in this really deep, gravelly voice - like his 'angel-slut', that was always one of his phrases. It shocked me, but it also really excited me and he knew it. He said he never got to have 'real sex' like that with his wife and that excited me too, although I knew it was completely wrong. It just got crazier all summer - and he did all those things, you know, that the men in your stories do. And I mean all. He did them the exact same way, demanding and selfish and just plain bad - and the terrible thing is he knew how much I enjoyed it. It ended up I didn't really have a crush on him any more, I wasn't sure I even liked him, but I secretly wanted him to keep on doing what he did. He even kept saying he'd bring all his friends round some time and they'd all do me together, although that was just talk - he was terrified of anyone finding out about us. But the thought did make me hot as well as scared. Then I went off to University and that was pretty much it. He persuaded me to meet up with him a few times during holidays and somehow I just couldn't say no. He went crazier than ever those times, but I think maybe he found somebody else to satisfy himself, because he stopped calling. I don't care about him at all now, but I still think about everything that happened. Everything that he did to my body and how I couldn't help wanting it. That's why I like your stories. They remind me.

Believe it or not, Jake, I'm really shy, lol. I don't even use the kind of words I've used writing to you. Nobody knows all this about me, not even my closest friends. You're the only one.

Please write me my story,

Holly. XXX

You of all people will understand what that did to me, Emily. I could read in her words a girl surprised and excited at her own daring - that she was making her sex confession to a writer of hard, exploitative pornography. I could also sense the prick tease, who was delighting in playing with fire. And I knew if I stoked up the heat she would very soon risk getting burned. Then maybe I could get her up close and do some proper stoking - into the hot furnace between her legs. The thought pumped my formidable equipment solid once more. This situation called for my best work.

My new story rivalled the nastiest stuff I've written. If I had the measure of Holly, she was ready to be at the centre of some seriously depraved fictional filth. At any I rate I took the chance. The tale took place in Holly's place of work and was written from the point of view of a customer, me in effect, who borrowed classic erotica from the Library shelves. Librarian Holly could not help but comment on his choices and go on to express her own interest in erotic prose. Soon she accepted some of the guy's own sordid work to read at her leisure. From her flustered reaction his words obviously unnerved and thrilled her in equal measures, as did his quietly indecent suggestions over the counter that she help him bring one of his scenarios to life. The rather contrived plot culminated in the randy customer waiting behind when she was closing up one day, along with his friends Grant and Martin (based squarely on the two real-life randy bastards I had made at the sex-party), and a tremulous Holly reluctantly agreeing to shut herself in with them.

What followed was as extreme and lurid account of a gang-bang as I had ever written. I made no concessions to my target-reader where taste was concerned, if anything I cranked up the heat; the fictional Holly took a greater sexual pasting than any of my female protagonists to date. Her ordeal was long, furiously hard and utterly relentless, recounted in the bluntest, crudest style I could muster. List all your favourites, Emily, and they were inflicted on my heroine in triplicate, before she was left a fucked mess on the Library floor, while the boys went for breakfast. The story would either scare off the real-life Holly, or make her cream herself till dawn. I entitled it Quiet Please, Bitch and made great play of the library's calm being shattered by her screams and howls, as she was subjected to her all-night super-fucking. When it was complete, I re-read it, wanked myself stupid and hit Send, just before I came.

It drove me crazy that night and the next day, knowing that any time Holly could be reading about her sweet self being virtually gang-raped in every hole by a trio of lust-driven maniacs, right there in her place of employment. As it turned out she had seen my delivery when checking her email at work and had rushed home later that day to read it. I was online that night when, rather than email me back, she Instant Messaged me directly.

HollyBookworm: Jake? You there?

A shock of excitement to both my heart and my erecting cock. I left it a few moments and messaged back.

Wickedjake: Hi there, Holly.

Her reply was all but instant.

HollyBookworm: Oh My God! Oh My God, Jake! You don't know what you've done to me!

Wickedjake: In a good way, I hope?

HollyBookworm: Oh fuck yes! It's the hottest thing ever! It's so so naughty of you! And it's me there in the middle of it all! I can't stand it, it's so hot!!! I came twice the first time I read it, I couldn't believe what I was reading! It just kept getting wilder and wilder... I had to read it again to take it all in! Check you emails, Jake - I'm sending something to you.

The blood was already pumping fast into my swelling dick. And then it was there - an email with the title 'This is what your story did'. The body of the correspondence was blank, but had a photo attachment. I uploaded the file in seconds and an image flashed on to the screen that grew my cock to trouser-busting proportions. The same girl from the beach pic, seated all but naked in her bedroom, her hand thrust inside her lacy, white knickers. The nipples on her big, gravity-defying breasts were swollen like bottle-tops and she stared in sweet, anguished ecstasy into the camera-lens she had set up.

It was an astonishing moment, totally fucking fabulous, knowing my words had turned the pretty student into an exhibitionist slut just for me. I knew something very special was happening here and pressed my advantage.

Wickedjake: Nice. That's just what I like to see, Holly. That's how you should be. Let me send you something in return.

In the photo I sent I wore a black leather jacket and black T-shirt and had a brooding expression in keeping, I reckoned, with her image of Jake the writer. I knew she wouldn't be disappointed.

Wickedjake: Not as revealing as yours, but I assure you - the rest of me is just like I described in the story. And I use it all in the same way.

I awaited further word from her in stiff-dicked anticipation. Her response did not let me down, in fact it went further than I had even dared hope.

HollyBookworm: Please phone me Jake. I really want to hear your voice. Here's my number - 0207...

Was she being the tease here? I didn't think so. I sensed a feverish quality in her replies and one short phone call would tell me all I needed to know. I held fire a few moments despite my hard eagerness and when I called, she picked up without hesitation. 'Hello?'

'Well hello, Holly.'

'Is that Jake?' A refined, young voice, strung with nervous excitement.

'Yes, it is.' My own voice was husky with controlled lust. 'Do you still look like you did in the last photograph?'

She replied with a breathy hesitancy that intensified the hardness within my trousers. 'I'm not wearing anything now.'

'Are you fingers still in your wet cunt?'

'Yes, yes they are... I can't believe I'm talking to you - God, I'm really wet, Jake!' It sounded like a forlorn, guilty confession. I loved it.

'And are you thinking about your story? About everything that was done to you?'

'Oh God, oh fuck yes!' There was a panting in her voice and a distant sound of busy, wet fingers. I wanted to jack my cock free of its own rigid tension, but it was important I kept my focus.

'Because my cock's just as huge and hard as in the story and when I fuck you for real I'm going to do it in exactly the same way. You do know I'm going to fuck you, don't you, Holly?'

'Oh God - oh God - I don't know...' It was so much fun messing with her head like this I can't even tell you.

'Okay Holly, we'll talk about it later. We'll talk about my hard cock shafting your cunt. And how you're going to suck my scalding hot load down your throat afterwards. You like that Holly? You like the sound of that?'

She obviously did, if her orgasmic 'Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhhhhhhhhh!!!' was anything to go by. There was a long, aching pause, then 'Oh my God...' she said weakly.

'You're quite a slut, aren't you Holly?' I was enjoying my nastiness tremendously.

'Yes, I am...' Little Miss Sweetness could hardly deny it.

'And does anyone else know what a slut you are? Any of your friends?'

'No, no one - just you,' she moaned. 'You're the only one.' Christ, I had to make capital of this situation or I'd never forgive myself. There was too much delicious, thrusting sport to be had. But it was important not to rush. Nailing her for real would all happen in good time.

'Well then it's our little secret, Holly. We're going to talk again soon. Now... do you have a web-cam? Because if you don't, I want you to get yourself one...'

I wanked myself to an explosive finish, but only after I'd given my sweet slut the full details of the task I had just invented for her and ended the call. We communicated through emails and IMs for the next few days, until I was sure Holly had bought and rigged everything up correctly. Then three evenings later I checked she was on-line and called her once more.

'You ready to give me what I want?' No pleasantries tonight. It was time to turn up the heat a little.

'Yes, I've got everything set up. You're on my speakerphone.' Her voice this time round was a scared but aroused squeak. 'Can you see me yet?'

'No, I'm just about to bring you up.' I sat naked in front of my computer, already big with expectation. A split-second after I clicked on her invitation, the image from Holly's web-cam burst on to my screen, expanding and stiffening my excited length as I sat stroking it. She was sitting nude on her bed, her slender form propped up by pillows, the camera lens staring down her exposed snatch as I had requested. Her usually pony-tailed hair hung loose round her flushed face and she was staring straight at me, as if trying to overcome her nervousness. 'Got you, Holly. In all your glory. Now let me see you touch yourself.'

She shifted a little, nervously, and splayed her legs further apart, so that the pink, glistening folds of her cunt were even more open to my view, then she began dabbling her fingers tentatively in her honey pot. 'You can see that, Jake?'

'Oh yes, I've got me a nice shot right up you.' I massaged all my stiff inches leisurely. What a great fucking sight she was. 'I can see everything you've got, Holly. Now did you read your story again?'

'Yes, I did, just now. I've read it a dozen times and it still makes me so hot...' Her body was responding already to her strumming fingers. It was obvious how completely turned on she was. Any first-time web-cam inhibitions were dropping away.

'And did you go out and buy what we talked about?'

'Yes, I've got it right here...' She reached just out of frame and picked up an enormous rubber cock, rich in anatomical detail. It was long and thick, shooting upwards to a fat, spearing head, from an equally impressive set of synthetic balls. It reminded me pretty much of my own cock.

'Good choice, Holly.' I wanked my pole more insistently and thought gleefully about what I was about to see. 'Now show me what you do with a big dick.' My hot little cam-girl took the monster shaft in her slim hands and began licking her way tentatively about the bulbous knob-end, eyeing me over it meekly. Her dainty, wet tongue darted about the cock and then she sucked the whole head into her pretty mouth, as I imagined the sensation around my own swollen member. 'Go on, Holly,' I encouraged. 'Get your mouth around it. Show me how a whore sucks cock.'

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byJaymal© 26 comments/ 93181 views/ 46 favorites

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