Rape Girl

Gentlemen - I do not recommend you try to recreate this situation if you don't know the difference between "no please don't & no please don't."

*****

I met her on a vanilla forum but of course, my profile was far from vanilla. We had a drink in a quiet bar on a Tuesday night and I enjoyed her smile and her openness. She hadn't said as much, but I could tell that she was yearning to meet someone that didn't ask her what she wanted. I never ask girls what they want anyway as I feel like it's my job to know. She probably wouldn't have had the answer if I did ask. She knew who she was meeting and what she was meeting me for and I enjoyed the fact that she was comfortable with it.

We sat and talked about our lives. She was a fashion designer with a small shop and a growing online audience. After the third drink I took her by the elbow and told her it was time to leave. She looked a little shocked but as I had expected, didn't protest as I led her from the bar and into a cab and dragged her into the room I had pre arranged. I fucked her hard and rough, hurting her and using her ass whilst never enquiring as to her comfort levels. I enjoyed watching her lay herself bare (both figuratively and physically) and just allow it to happen to her, just as she has always dreamt.

The next day I sat and pondered the look in her eye and all the things she didn't say as opposed to the things she did. I enjoyed the evening but felt like if I were to see her again, I should turn it up a little. I knew that there were dark, disturbing desires festering inside her, it was obvious. I knew that she wanted me to instinctively know what they were and I was pretty confident that I did. I also live my life as a race against monotony and I felt like ensuring this wouldn't be just another (although great,) encounter with a beautiful submissive girl.

She contacted me the next week asking if I'd like to "use" her again. I liked her choice of and quick adoption of the terminology and decided that it was time to put a long standing fantasy of mine into action by responding simply with "yes, but you won't know when, or where." She of course requested an explanation a number of times which I ignored and for a couple of weeks I revelled in the thought of her bewilderment. I haven't asked her but I'm pretty sure she spent a lot of nights contemplating the strange but arousing effect those words had had on her. The weeks turned into months and I hoped that she had begun to assume it was a one time thing and she'd never hear from me again.

I'd taken note of her home address the night I dropped her there in a taxi. I also researched her shop and located it nearby, casing it out one afternoon from the other side of the street. It sat in a row of shops on a busy street but it was small and self contained. She seemed to work alone most of the time and like any fashion store, had a few changing rooms located at the back. I decided that this was were it was going to happen.

I spent a few days going over it in my head. How would I ensure no one came in? What if I was wrong? I devised solutions to the problems that had them, and left the ones that didn't to chance. I knew I was taking a risk here but I've always been able to read people, especially submissive women. I'm rarely wrong and I felt like for both of our sakes, I needed to do this.

The day it happened I watched as a couple of ladies left the shop. She seemed to be working in a back room which is where she retired to when no one was around. The door had an old fashion bell that chimed as it opened and a "open/closed flip sign hanging on it. I couldn't see how it locked from there but I was hoping it had a bolt of some sort. She moved into the back room and I crossed the street, pushing the door open as gently as I could. As I'd hoped the bell didn't chime as I closed the door behind me. I was in luck and found a dead lock and flipped around the sign to read closed. I was in and she was totally unaware. A curtain separated the shop from the back room and I peered through to find her working at a desk. Taking my keys from my pocket I threw them into the middle of the shop so they hit the hard concrete floor and as hoped, got her attention. My heart raced as she walked through the curtain, straight past me and looked down at the keys.

She screamed into my palm as I wrapped one hand around her mouth and the other through both elbows and dragged her, in one movement toward the changing room. I knew this was a dangerous moment as the glass frontage looked over the busy street and I might easily be seen by a passerby. Once in the changing room I threw her against the wall and held her there by her throat, pulling the curtain across behind us and pausing for a moment to look at her. Both her hands were grasping at my wrist as she struggled to breath and as we looked at each other she shook her head and as best she could muster whispered, "no... Please."

That was exactly what I was hoping to hear and my excitement levels went vertical. Her light colourful summer dress was perfect for my needs and I turned her around and tore at her underwear until it ripped free and slid down one leg. She struggled as I held her against the wall, her face squashed firmly against it with all of my weight. "I don't want this, please...My boyfriend" was all I heard before I forced my cock inside her without a moments thought for her comfort and she let out a glorious, muffled scream.

I fucked her as hard as I could, slapping her when she protested and watching the tears roll down her face. I revelled in her orgasms as they cut through those tears and for a moment her pain turned to pleasure and then back to pain again. I knew she was conflicted now. She meant it when she said she didn't want this but her body wasn't playing ball and I loved the contradiction. When I was done, sweat pouring down my face I left without a word. She lay crumpled on the floor of the changing room as I collected my keys and disappeared into the crowd.

I spent the next week enjoying the memories but wondering if the police would show up (kidding.) I received just one word from her, "amazing," to which of course I didn't respond.

I've visited her at her home a couple of times since then. Always unannounced and I always get the same reaction, orgasms and fear. We don't talk otherwise, there are no debriefs. I'll continue to do so until she asked me to stop.

The end.