I was at an after party for a major awards show. I had won for "Best New Artist" and I was really taking advantage of the open bar to drink to my success. My girlfriend was over talking to some other glammed up women when this man in all black, sporting an impressive moustache, came over to me and congratulated me on my win.
I don't know how coherent I was, but I managed to say thanks and let him get me another drink. He moved away after a few minutes and I stumbled to the men's to do what most men do there. I was feeling less than steady on my feet and the hallway tilted like something out of a Blackpool fun house, but I think I managed to get to it.
The next thing that registered at all I was laying down in the back of a moving vehicle, I tried to sit up and open the door but a hand restrained my arm and a disembodied voice warned me that we were going pretty fast and if I fell out of the car I'd be smashed to pieces.
When I came to, after a fashion, I was lying on my back on a bed. My shirt was open and my arms were fixed straight out to my sides with what felt like leather cuffs. My head was swimming and the room seemed really fuzzy around the edges.
Hospital? I vaguely hoped. But when a mouth pressed itself over mine and began kissing me, I had the feeling that I was not going to get the kiss of life here. OK, I thought I could deal with being kissed; my lips being tickled and scratched by a moustache was a new sensation, not altogether unpleasant, just different.
When he parted my lips to tongue me I clamped my jaws tight. He chuckled "I see you're awake" and then, "OK we'll move on to something else."
And he did. I felt the weight of his body on mine as he slid down, opened my shirt further and ran his hands over my chest. "Smooth as a boy's" he murmured, before he bent to take one of my nipples in his teeth. I made a noise of shock and protest and tried to buck him off of me. He just laughed at my efforts and bit down harder.
It finally made it through my booze and whatever else addled brain that I was totally in this person's control. He outweighed me, and guessing by the way he easily covered my body with his, was at least half again my height. Considering I'm not a very tall man this wasn't exactly hard.
Speaking of hard, I know I wasn't but I certainly could tell he was. When he left off my nipples and moved down further he straddled my legs and sat up on them. Somewhere along the evening I seemed to have been stripped from the waist down and his jean wrapped erection, like a rock pressed into my thigh, sent panic waves to my brain.
He reached for something off to the side of the bed, I heard a click and then my album started playing in the room. He leaned over me and took my head in his hands, he got very close to my face and said; "You really are beautiful." When I said nothing, he tightened his grip, "You know that you want this. I can tell by listening to your music. You are too sensitive to be straight, despite all your interviews where you claim to be. I'm going to do you a favour, and show you your true nature."
Oh god! Talk to this guy! My voice sounded really far away, "I'm not gay, I'm not sure how to convince you of that but I have a girlfriend!" I swallowed trying to get the spit to come back into my dry mouth "look I don't know who you are, if you let me go now I promise not to try to track you down or call the police."
My words were met by a few moments of silence, aside from the next song on the CD. It was very surreal to be in this situation on its own, but to have my voice singing to me as the soundtrack to it was not helping.
"Denial is a sad thing. You'll see I'm right." With that he took my legs in his arms and my cock into his mouth. I tried to free myself but he tightened his grip on my legs and held them firmly down at his side.
All right, I thought to myself, this is nothing new you can deal with this. I closed my eyes and tried to picture my girlfriend's lips there instead of his, but the moustache bristling against my shaft was making that really difficult.
Switching gears, I tried to picture my military schoolmate instead. I wasn't pure in that regard, after I went to an all boy's school from boarding to military school, and did have a few incidents of mutual masturbation and one time, drunk on cheap stolen wine, did let one of my classmates go down on me.
It wasn't working. I could not get the reality of the situation out of my mind; I knew it was leading up to something I wouldn't allow myself to name.
He paused in his efforts and spit onto his fingers, then again bent to take me in his mouth, this time introducing one finger, then another into my ass. This was something I had never felt before, the first finger went in with almost no sensation more than it felt really weird to have something there. The second one felt uncomfortable, not exactly painful but full, like I really had to take a dump, but when he added a third the pain shot up to my chest and when he began to stretch me out, I again tried to get free.
I made a sound in my throat that startled me when he lifted my body and added his tongue to where he had placed his fingers. "Relax and enjoy it" his voice floated up, "if you tense up it will only get worse."
My knees were over his shoulders and my legs were bent back and clamped under his arms preventing me from kicking him I guess. I hooked my feet under his chest and with strength fuelled by panic managed to set him back on his knees and disengage him from his efforts.
I think I surprised him because he let go of my legs and I placed a solid kick on his chest knocking the wind out of him. While I had him off balance I tried to sit up and get at the bonds that held me.
He threw himself on top of me and sat on my chest. My legs couldn't reach him there and I couldn't throw him off of me, he squeezed my ribs until I was sure one or more was going to crack, and grabbed a fist full of my hair.
"That was stupid." he hissed, "I want to be gentle with you, awaken you, but you are not making this easy on yourself."
"I don't NEED to be awakened," I gasped out with what little breath he was allowing me to have, "You have this all wrong!"
He gave my ribs another squeeze but let go of my hair. He sat back and cocked his head at me. "I didn't expect this much resistance. I've made a study of you, you know. I've read every article about you, watched every interview, and listened to your album repeatedly. But no matter, I am adaptable."
With that he got off the bed and left the room. I allowed myself to hope this meant he was going to let me go, I was wrong. He came back in a few minutes later and resumed his perch on my chest. With powerful hands he pried open my mouth and shoved a pill deep into it and then held it closed, he then took time to pinch my nostrils closed so it was a matter of swallow or suffocate. I dry swallowed the pill its bitter taste making me gag but once was satisfied I had done so, he let go of me so I could breathe.
He then fastened my legs down to the bed and lay down beside me. "I was hoping you wouldn't need to have help relaxing," he whispered in my ear, as he stroked my hair, "but I am a patient man. You'll thank me for this, I know."
I thought, yes I will thank you but you probably won't like the manner in which I do so.
When the pill kicked in he turned on a bright light and shone it right into my eyes, he bent over close enough that had I had the spit to do it I would have spit right into his face.
He obviously liked what he saw as he dimmed the lights and unfastened my legs, settling between them. My head felt stuffed full of cotton wool and I could barely mewl out a protest as he lifted my legs over his shoulders and pushed his way into me. Unfortunately, I was fully aware of what was going on, I could feel the sharp tearing pain as his unlubed member stretched and forced its way into my ass, but I couldn't move my legs and barely had the strength to clench my fists in reaction to the events.
When he was fully inside me he stopped moving for a moment. I remember thinking I could deal with this until he started moving in and out of me. Each pull out and thrust in felt like I was being violated by a chain saw. It seemed to go on for an eternity, at one point he leaned on my legs so heavily I was literally bent in half and could have kissed my own knees had I wanted to.
I felt the warm rush of his climax; he jerked convulsively a few more times and then collapsed on top of me. Finally pulling out of my sore body. He kissed me a few times and then got off of the bed, after that I mercifully lost consciousness.
I was dimly aware some time later of being bathed in a warm tub my head being held out of the water while I was gently soaped and rinsed off, I was lifted out of the tub, and the darkness rushed back.
I came to in an alley just a few blocks from my flat in London. I was fully clothed and by the feel of my beard stubble, I hadn't been out that long. I staggered to my feet and stumbled home.
My girlfriend was eating breakfast when I got in "Where were you?" she asked.
"Some of the lads went to an after hours" I lied, "I lost track of time." I kissed her on the top of her head and stripped to shower.
While I was in the shower I carefully examined myself for bruises. I had a nasty one on my right wrist, OK I can wear long sleeves, I thought, and one around my ribs. Again a shirt could cover that. As I was toweling off I called out to my girlfriend that I was going to get some sleep and she waved at me over her coffee cup.
I slept fairly solidly but woke up with a start in a cold sweat as I had imagined I was back in the clutches of my rapist.
A few weeks later my girlfriend and I were walking out of a bar and I saw him. I hadn't really managed to get a good look at his face while anywhere near sober, but I knew it was him. I caught him looking my way, he smiled and ran his tongue over his moustache and winked at me.
When my girlfriend went to get the car, I forced a smile back and walked over to him, I leaned in closely and whispered, "you were right, I can't get you out of my mind, you were incredible. When can I see you again?"
His eyes widened in shock and he stepped back searching my face for a moment. He nodded as if he had reached a decision, jotted down his address and handed it to me. "Come by tonight."
The address was just outside of town, I waited until my girlfriend was asleep and grabbed a duffle bag I had packed earlier and snuck out to my car.
I found the house on a very quiet street, the next neighbour was a mile or so away. I parked on a side road and walked to the house.
I was greeted at the door with "I really didn't think you were coming."
He tried to kiss me but I wasn't ready for that and put him off by taking off my coat. He saw I was in full fatigues and pointed, "that's right you were in the army, weren't you?"
I smiled, "yes and I thought maybe this time we could play a game."
His eyes lit up and he grinned knowingly at me, "I knew you'd thank me!"
I didn't reply to that, instead I asked him to show me to his bedroom. I set the duffle bag on the chair next to the bed and asked him to get me a drink. He came into the room holding a tequila for me and a glass of something for him; I motioned for him to set it down on the nightstand.
I think he found my silence a bit unnerving, he was chattering away like a nervous school girl, "Are we going to play army?" he finally asked.
I nodded and got a couple of pair of cuffs out of my bag, "Strip, and lay down. You're my prisoner and I'm going to interrogate you."
He was hard even before he was totally undressed. He quickly did as I instructed and I tightened one end of the cuffs on each of his wrists, and the other end I fastened to the bed frame. Once I was sure he was not going anywhere I stripped, putting my clothes in a neat pile near the duffle bag and joined him on the bed.
I took a tube of lube from the bag, greased him up and took him into me. I kept my face neutral as I lowered myself on to him. His eyes closed in pleasure, so I'm sure if I had let my feelings show he wouldn't have seen them.
I sat still impaled on him until I got the nerve to raise and lower myself a few times. He opened his eyes and looked at me, smug in his belief that I was converted. I leaned over him and asked, "In all your research into my life, did you find out about my stay in a mental hospital?"
He looked confused at this line of questioning at this moment, "No, I didn't," he said, his brow furrowing to concentrate. "What were you there for?"
I licked his neck and blew on the wet spot, "Post traumatic stress syndrome from my time in the army." I replied with a wide smile.
"What did you do in the army?" he asked.
I reached into the duffle bag took out my gun, put it to his head and pulled the trigger. "I killed people."
As the light in his eyes dimmed he thrashed a bit and his last ejaculation filled me. I pulled myself off of him, and went into the bathroom. I soaped up a towel and wiped him down before getting into the shower myself and set about removing the signs I had been there.
As I got dressed, I picked up the glass of tequila, raised it in a toast to his lifeless form, downed it in one gulp and put it into the duffel bag.
As I drove back into town I couldn't quite stifle a giggle, this could definitely make my next therapy session more interesting.