tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Day I Met Him

The Day I Met Him

byyrcatrin©

It was a long time ago in a land not so far away that I met the man who almost destroyed my mind. He was a bad man, an insane beast but I did not know that when I met him. When I met him he was a beautiful, curly haired, six foot tall Adonis.

I was married at the time to my first husband; he and I were having coffee at the local coffee house, trying to find some we could score some weed from, when HE came in. I tried not to notice him and fixed my attention on my husband, but you couldn't ignore this guy. He held in his hand a guitar case and he sat at the counter directly in front to us but with his back to us. He ordered coffee and a hamburger on wheat bread with all the trimmings. After he ordered he placed his case on the counter and began withdrawing handfuls of change and stacking it on the counter. It appeared that he played on the streets for money. I was intrigued. To me he looked like Jim Morrison from that group The Doors. He was tall, with a strong jaw line, deep deep brown/ red eyes and the curliest hair I've ever seen on a white man. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a crushed pack of Camels and as I watched I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a package of rolling papers.

Looking at my husband I said that I thought that guy might have some weed; maybe he'd sell us a doobie. Shrugging his shoulders he gets up and taps the guy on the shoulder and asks if he would like to join us for coffee. He does.

He joins us in our booth and we have introductions. I learn his name is Ken, he is 33 years old, single and does play guitar down by the water, where the tourists go and yes as a matter of fact he did smoke weed and yes he'd love to smoke one with us.

We invite him to our place which was just a two block walk away. When we get there we get comfortable and Ken pulls out his stash and we burn a nice one. Feeling mellow we ask Ken to tell us more about himself. He tells us that he is staying about 8 blocks away in the large warehouse with a bunch of other guys who were all musicians. I being only 18 at the time thought he was the coolest guy I'd ever met, but my husband was bored and said he was going out in the yard awhile.

Once we are alone Ken starts to question me, I told him I was 18, had been married almost a year and had a small child. He asked me if I knew my husband was screwing one of the waitresses at the coffee house, I did not. I had had my suspensions, but never took my gut seriously. Ken told me that he'd seen my husband around town; he was pretty much whoring around on me. I was stunned and of course lost my buzz entirely. I told Ken we'd better call it a evening and showed him to the door. He met my husband in the yard bade him farewell and was off into the night.

I held Kens words in my heart and never said anything to my husband but I did start to follow him. I followed him every time he left the house. Took three days to prove Ken correct, my husband was fucking around on me. Needless to say I was angry, maybe I should have been hurt but I was angry. I wasn't angry that he was fucking around on me I was mad because the bitch was dog fucking ugly. She was about 20 pounds over weight, no muscle tone and real saggy ass and greasy looking hair. She also had acne. Bad gross acne, the kind with the REAL big whiteheads and a lot of redness, even on her back! Yep that's what pissed me off.

Now I am no beauty queen. The room as never quieted when I have entered. I have never caused some guy riding his bike to crash into a tree, but I am not ugly and I am not over weight and my hair isn't greasy looking and I sure as hell don't have any acne, you know, so what the fuck is wrong with my husband? I wasn't a prude. Christ I was pregnant at 16, can't call that prudish now can you? I was very open minded in bed, I had given birth to his child and dropped out of school and left my home and college dreams to have his child and be his wife and here he is fucking some tramp working in a greasy spoon??!! Oh man, I was so pissed. So Pissed. I get pissed now, 20 years later, thinking about it. I never said anything to anyone about what I saw; I just started to plan mine or his departure.

We had become closer friends with Ken. He had become our connection and we saw him pretty frequently. One day he didn't come by, one day became two – pretty soon a week passed and I asked my husband what he thought, he said jail. I called the jail and sure enough that's were Ken was. Busted on misdemeanor possession but he was getting out with time served the following week so all was cool.

As soon as Ken was out he was at our place. He told us that he got thrown out of the place he was living and need to stay somewhere a few days till he could raise rent money. I convinced my husband that we should let him stay at our place then he could pay us in weed. My husband, hop hound he was, agreed.

So Ken came to stay and the first days passed by fine. He slept on our couch, left to go play guitar about 9:30 and came home around 7 pm. My husband worked close to those same hours but he was gone more and more and I know all that time was not work related as our income had begun to decline.

Ken had been at our house for one week when something happened. It was late and we had all gone to bed when I woke up needing to use the bathroom. So I got up and walked down the hall.

Let me take a sec and describe our place to you. It was a mother- in –law cottage. It was very tiny. Had a 6x6 front porch, a 10 x 10 living room that lead to a 3 foot wide 12 foot long hall, which ended at our bedroom. On the right side of the hallway was the kitchen and on the left was the bathroom.

So I got up and walked down the hall to the john. Next to the door of the bathroom was our sofa that Ken was sleeping on. As I opened the door I glanced at him, he had slept in the nude. He was lying on his back with on hand on his stomach and one across his eyes and he had an erection. The man had the prettiest penis I had ever seen (I had only seen about 3), it was the perfect size; nicely tapered –ah- it was nice. I stared for awhile, as it bobbed up and down in the air, on its own accord, went to the bathroom and went back to bed.

The next day I had a hard time looking Ken in the eye, I wasn't really thinking of him as a suitor and unlike my husband I was going to honor my vows so I never really entertained the thought of fucking Ken, but seeing his cock made me feel real funny inside. My husband says he's going to the store and departs leaving Ken and me alone. I am nervous, really don't know why, and have a foreboding sense of doom.

I decide to avoid Ken; he would be leaving in about an hour for "work" so I went to my room to read. About 15 minutes pass and I hear him call my name and ask me if I'd like to smoke a joint, dumb ass me says sure. I go to the living room and take a chair by the front door .He fires up the joint and passes it to me. I have a toke, its good stuff. He moves to a chair opposite me so we can pass the joint easier. When it's about halfway gone I get cotton mouth and decide to get a drink. I stand and tell him I'm going to the kitchen and ask if he would like something cold. He says no.

I only have one problem, now I must walk directly in front of him to get to the kitchen. I don't know how I looked but I noticed that he was watching me very intensely. I stepped -closer, closer, closer shaking inside- I get past him. I think I had stopped breathing, my heart was pounding my hand were shaking I really thought I was going to die. He never said anything.

I think I paused for a moment, placing on hand on the wall and the other on my chest trying to compose myself, and that's when he grabbed me. He was fast and strong. He grabbed one hand and then the other and wrenching them behind my back, easily holding me. With his free hand he pulls my robe open and grabs my breast, saying let me see what my prize is.

I gasp and try to free myself, he simply shoves me face first against the wall. He pushes my robe off my shoulders to down around my elbows and pulls the cord from the waist. I try to get away again, it is no use. He puts his left forearm on my shoulder blades, effectively forcing my face snugly against the cold plaster, grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back painfully. His other had has my wrist and the cord. I am beginning to pant not. I cannot believe this is happening to me.

I drifted off momentarily, thinking about to when I was about 12 and my father had called me a whore. At that time I didn't know what a whore was, I never heard the word before, I had no idea what sex was so I did what any kid does at that age, I asked a friend. My school friend then gave me a magazine filled with dirty stories. The stories weren't like Penthouse Bedtime Stories, this was a German hardcore mag and the stories were of non consent, bondage, discipline, rape, kidnapping. Men dominating and using women. That was my first look at any type of sexual material. It made me hot at 12 and it made me hot to think it was now happening to me.

He wedges his leg between mine and spreads my legs, I struggle as he tugs at my hair again, raising my eyes to the ceiling. Still holding his forearm against me, pulling my hair, he wads up my robe, maneuvering my hands till either hand is touching the opposite elbow behind me. 'Augh no' I try to cry, it comes out croaky due to the angle of my head. He wraps his hand more securely in my hair and begins to pull my head down and back while keeping my chest pinned to the wall. He is hurting me so I begin to struggle as best I can. I try to shove back against him hoping to knock him back enough I can run for the door but all that happens is he shoves my knees father apart and pulls me down so now my ass is sticking out at him and my necked pulled back to it's limit. I can't move nor can I make any sound other than a gasp or a moan.

I am getting tired and I guess he senses it. He gets both of his legs between mine and uses his knees to hold mine open. I know due to his height he must be uncomfortable but I guess he didn't care. He uses his free hand to wrap my robe around my forearms and the takes the cord and ties my hands securely. I know then that I have lost.

Satisfied that my arms are secure, but with is one arm still across my back, he takes a step back to admire his handy work. I imagine I was quite the site in that squatting position, with my ass out, my hands tied and my face sideways along the wall. He starts to rub my ass softy. I sigh, I don't mean to it just comes out. I hear him chuckle and he begins to talk to me.

"I know you have a hot ass Cat. I've followed you before I knew who you were. I watched you walking down the street, your ass swaying. I know you don't wear panties, Cat, and I know that the reason is because you have a hot ass. Your husband is a pussy and he doesn't deserve you or the beautiful child you gave him. He doesn't appreciate hot ass like I do. He doesn't know what to do with a woman like you that's why he goes and fucks those cheap silly minded women. You like to fuck don't you Cat? You like what I'm doing to right now doing you Cat? Tell me Cat; tell me you like to fuck. Tell me the truth, you want me to fuck you don't you. I know you saw my cock (I struggle, he bends to my ear) I saw you. I wasn't asleep. I saw you look and you looked a long time didn't you? You saw it throbbing didn't you? You thought of its power of its beauty didn't you? Answer me!"

'YES!' I cried. "Yes I saw your cock, yes it was beautiful. I know my husband is a whore but we are married! Please let me go! I cannot do this with you. Please! Please this hurts and it is embarrassing. Please just let me go and I won't say anything."

"No, I'm not letting you go. I know that you will not tell one way or the other, I'm going to take you, claim you, make you my bitch and you won't want to tell because then you'll be and adulterant whore."

That was when I started to cry. I cried because I did want him to take me, I did want him to make me be his whore, but I did love my husband. I cried even more when I realized that at this moment Ken was raping me and deep in my heart I was enjoying it.

He started to rub my ass again, and the small of my back. I wiggled, uncomfortable with the caress and the humiliating position. He just keep stroking me, occasionally he would tug at my air to make me stick my ass out more. My legs were starting to burn and shake from the stress of the angle he forced me into. He felt the movement and took some pity on me.

"Oh do my sweet bitches legs hurt? Poor dear. I tell you what I'll make a deal with you. If you are wet we will change positions, but if you are dry I am going to take you as you are and throw your ass outside on the street."

With that said he slid is middle finger inside me. I already knew that I was wet, but now so did he, and I tell you honey, my wetness made him very happy.

"I knew you were a slut. You just need someone to take what you can't bring yourself to give away."

"'Squish, squish', do you heard that slut?" He asks me. I do not need answer I know it's a rhetorical question

"Do you hear the sounds your pussy is making, Slut? Do you feel the wetness coating your walls and sliding down my fingers? He is now pushing one than two fingers in and out of me, fast than slow, then stopping with his fingers inside me. I can't take it. I am going to come. He is going to make me come and I cannot stop it. Harder and faster his pumps his fingers into me, panting in my ear, pulling on my hair again and again till I just cannot take the incredible pressure anymore and I erupt in a tremendous orgasm that sends fluid pouring from me all over his hand , collecting in a puddle between my legs.

Never in my life had I come that hard. I was spent. I had no fight left. There were no words. Only feelings- only the wonderful high of orgasm. That is until I come down and realize how I came to have that incredible orgasm, at the hands of a freak rapist, whose use, just turned me into a whore. Large tears formed in my eyes and spilled out, now I was bad. I was a slut , a whore , a sleazy bitch that fucks around on her old man. He was right I never would tell. It was too shameful.

We weren't done yet, no, far from done.

With one hand in my hair and the other on my arms he propels me towards the living room sofa. He sits and pulls me over his legs. I try to kick at him but he traps my legs between his pinning me to his lap. It's kind of hard to breathe with my hands behind me, tied so tight, and my stomach smashing into his leg.

"You're a bad girl aren't you?" Once again stroking my quivering ass cheeks, slipping his fingers in my ass crack, making me moan in humiliation.

"Bad girls like fucking. Only slutty girls let strangers in their pants. You're a bad slutty girl. Do you know what happens to bad girls Cat do you? Bad girls get their slutty asses spanked. Spanked hard." Grabbing my hair again he pulls my head up causing me to support all my weight on my stomach, balanced on his leg, making me look at him.

"I'm going to spank your ass so hard you won't sit all evening. I'm going to spank you because I know you want it. You know you are bad, such a slut. You need someone to make you face yourself."

He then proceeded to spank me, hard. At first I was shocked by the sting, but then there was this heat that spread from my ass to my pussy. I was getting turned on again. He was right I was a dirty whore, I deserved this, and I was sooooooo bad.

"I like you like this Cat, naked, bound and at my mercy. I've thought about you since the first time I saw you. I thought about you while I watched your piece of shit husband flirt with anything that had a pussy tits and ass. I lied about losing my place Cat, I didn't lose it. I knew if I told you I was homeless you'd get your husband to let me stay. I knew he'd let me stay cause he wanted free weed. I wanted you."

At that point I believe I was in shock. I was shock due to the physical stress of the encounter and I was in mental distress because this man was touching on deep feelings and fantasies that I had buried deep within me. I wanted to be conquested, claimed, taken, molested, bound and so many other things. Did I mention I was raised Catholic? So all of this was just impure and immoral and I was indeed going to hell instead of heaven.

My ass was on fire. He was done. My punishment for being a whore was monetarily atoned for. Releasing my legs he pulls me up and sets me on his lap facing away from him. He scoots back slightly and pulls my back to his chest. Using is legs he slips his feet over my knees and pulls my legs apart. I can see his legs over mind holding them wide. I see my breast with their small nipples hard as rocks. I see my chest and stomach heaving as I try to keep composed. With his mouth under my ear, his breath on my neck he takes his hands and reaches for my breasts. I can see his hands moving , it's all kind of in slow motion, the fingers with their squared off nails, the fingertips calloused from the years of plucking guitar strings, the hands move towards me.

He grasps both my nipples at the same time. Pulling them outward I must stand slightly to avoid feeling pain. Pulling more it is clear he wants me to stand. I stand and he scoots forward again putting his feet between mine so my legs stay widely spread. Pulling and rolling my nipples while he looks down at my ass and my hands and even though I cannot see him I know he is smiling.

Now he holds one breast in one hand and with the other he goes back to my ass. Tracing the bottom curve of my butt with is finger he tells me that he is going to make me come again. I think I must have snorted or sometime because the next thing I know he pinching the hell out of my breast and unceremoniously shoving his fingers in and out of me.

"When I want you to come you will come. When I want to see your body you will show it to me. You will do what I say when I say to do it. You will plan on divorcing your husband, getting sole custody of your child and you will become my woman. Do you understand this? Answer me!"

It's real hard to answer someone when they are fingering you, mauling your breasts and leading you down that long hall of bliss to the cliff of orgasm.

"Answer me!" His fingers moving faster and harder, the sound of my panting and my juiciness filling the air closer and closer till I just scream--

"Yes, fuck, yes make me your whore, your bitch, please, fuck, me don't stop, I'll do anything .Please don't stop!!

With that I came again.

Pushing me forward I land on the floor on my face, it really hurt and I was sure my nose was broken. As I lay he steps over me and unties me from my robe, then his picks up his guitar case and moving towards the door he says can't wait to see you tonight.

I lay there along time.

* Readers if you liked this story let me know. Ken and Cat have quite a relationship and I'll be happy to share more it anyone is interested. Thanks for reading. ; )

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