tagNonConsent/ReluctanceTaken without Consent

Taken without Consent


It had started in primary school. A happy relationship between a boy and a girl, filled with all the normal childhood things -- a wonderful relationship at first. It was his spiky blonde hair and cheeky grin, and her pretty features and makeup, and it was the fumbling holding of hands, the giggling kisses and even, as they got older, the roaming of wayward fingers in the darkness.

And it was the majesty of prom night, when they were both sixteen, in the clumsy dancing around a room, and it was his promising, boyish smile and her elegant, tied-back brown hair in the light of the disco balls.

And then it was the darkness of a secluded room, and the first time that either of them had ever accepted the other fully, and then it was something else.

Whispered promises of a bright future from a boy's lips. The wondering eyes of the naked girl beside him as she listened to every word with the utmost faith.

And then it was leaving school with no GCSEs, no qualifications, no college and no university, and sharing a tiny council estate flat with two other eighteen-year-olds, and her on the dole and he in a dead-end band that was going nowhere. The future no longer seemed bright. His cheeky, childish smile had faded and she no longer looked elegant -- rather, harassed and worried, although some of the beauty she might have had showed under the layers of tiredness. She had no life, so she drank to forget, and to live a little in her drunkenness, and he drank with her, and what little money was accumulated from his occasional illegal busking was spent away on alcohol that left them feeling worse but craving more in the bleak mornings.

He came home one day from band rehearsal to find her in tears on the couch.

"What's wrong now?" he asked, unable to keep a trace of exasperation from his voice.

She looked up angrily, her mascara streaked around her eyes. "We have no money, in case you hadn't noticed," she spat at him.

"Get a job then," he replied tiredly, flinging himself down beside her and pressing his hand against his eyes.

"I have no FUCKING qualifications," she said through gritted teeth. "All because of you and your stupid fucking promises."

"Get a job that doesn't need qualifications then," he replied, his voice rising slightly.

"What about you, in your fucking dead-end band making shit music that no one wants to listen to?" She was yelling now, on her feet in front of him. He looked up, and opened his mouth to retort.

Just then, though, Julie walked in. Julie and her boyfriend Tim were flatmates with the two of them and the four of them got on well, having been friends in school.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," Julie said loudly, "but I'm going down the pub and wondered if Molly was coming too?"

Molly glared at her boyfriend, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." She stormed out of the house with Julie. He waited for a moment and then grabbed his coat and chased after them. They walked down to the pub in silence, but drinks loosened tongues, and a few pints later they were talking, albeit in slurs.

"Where's Tim?" Molly asked for the third time.

"I told you, you fucking stupid cow, he's at home, in bed, ill," Julie slurred back, giggling. "Where's Nick?"

"Right here, you daft cow, getting drinks," Molly replied, indicating her boyfriend.

"Oh yeah..."

Nick came and sat down. He'd heard what they were talking about. He leaned forwards and whispered suggestively in Molly's ear: "We should be at home as well, also in bed."

Instinctively, Molly's hand crept down to the crotch of his jeans. She could already feel it.

"Very nice," she whispered back.

A few drinks later and Nick was on his feet, unable to stand it anymore. He yanked Molly to her feet and practically dragged her home, Julie trailing behind and yelling at the top of her voice down a street of startled pedestrians: "Oh no, you two aren't gonna fuck again are you? You're SO noisy."

They ignored her and ran to the bedroom once they were home, pausing only to slam the door shut.

"Get your clothes off," Nick said excitedly. She ripped off her black top and then her lacy bra, her large breasts tumbling out. In a second, she had ripped off her jeans and her panties, displaying a hairless vagina. He had undressed in record time, his fairly small six inches already standing to attention before her. Quickly, he rushed forwards and pinned her down, rolling on top of her. She giggled as his hands found her breasts and tweaked her nipples, tugging them until they were hard. His cock slipped between her legs and pushed against the walls of her pussy, forcing entry to the chambers within. He shoved up inside her, causing her to moan as his cock rubbed frantically against her g-spot. Her tits were at his mercy as he rubbed them and tweaked the nipples playfully.

Finally, his cock unloaded itself inside her, its creamy cum coating the walls of her pussy. She was on the pill so he could do this whenever he liked. They rolled onto their sides, his cock still in her, and he rubbed at her again, enjoying her moans. They fell to sleep with him inside her, a couple once again.

A few days later, the situation was a lot worse. They hadn't spoken for days and he was furious. He ended up shagging Julie out of spite and this caused Tim to fight him publicly -- a fight in which Nick lost spectacularly. He blamed her, and began to plot his revenge.

Not long after, he persuaded her to go to the cinema with him and a Geordie friend called Luke. Luke was huge and hairy and he stank of sweat, but he began to surreptitiously paw at her as soon as he arrived. She tried to ignore his huge, ham-like hands creeping over her ass and occasionally a thumb stroking across her nipple as she leaned over to pick something up.

At the cinema, it only got worse. Molly sat in the middle of the two men, and it wasn't long before Luke's hand crept over her tits. His paw slipped inside her top to openly rub at her breast, squeezing the nipple so hard she gasped loudly and was told to shush by a man sitting two rows behind.

Back home, a blazing row ensued. With Luke still there, Molly screamed at Nick for allowing such a perverted friend to come near her, and he eventually got so angry that he admitted to letting Luke come over with the express purpose of 'harmlessly' feeling her up. He said it was payback for not sleeping with him, which she didn't really understand. But then Luke stepped forwards.

"I'll be taking her then," he said.

"Taking her?" replied Nick blankly. "Taking her where?"

"I thought we had an understanding," Luke said coldly. It only dawned on Molly then that Luke wasn't their age. Perhaps he was a business friend. Perhaps he wasn't a friend at all. Either way, he was at least in his late-thirties and a lot bigger and muscular than her eighteen-year-old boyfriend. Maybe Nick realized the latter at that moment as well, because he took a step back that could have been out of fright. Molly didn't care. She was too busy being afraid for herself.

"U-understanding?" Nick stuttered. "Wh-what understanding?" Molly could tell that he was being truthful. Perhaps his idiocy had prevented him from realizing exactly what Luke wanted.

"She's mine now," replied Luke, stepping forwards threateningly. "You agreed. You said I could do what I wanted with her."

"I meant tonight -- feeling her up!" Nick cried. "She isn't yours, she's mine! She's my fucking girlfriend!"

"Not anymore, son," Luke replied, and punched him. Molly watched, horrified, as Nick's slim frame twisted and landed heavily on the floor. He had been knocked out cold.

Before she knew it, Luke grabbed hold of her arm. She struggled, but he seized a handful of her long, dark red hair and pulled her close. He held a cloth under her nose and everything went dark.

Molly woke slowly. Her head was pounding and her eyes hurt. When she opened them, she realized that she was in a dark room. Tears ran down her cheeks as she remembered what had happened, and she went to sit up. That was when she realized.

She couldn't move.

Someone had tied her tightly. Her back was pressing against something hard and uncomfortable -- it could have been a table. She struggled violently, but the ropes attached to her wrists and ankles were cruel and chafed her bare skin and became no looser. Cold air played over her tits and she realized that she was naked.

This thought sent a surge of panic through her mind. She was tied tightly, spread-eagled nakedly on a table after being knocked out by a much older man. She was helpless. She made one last valiant effort to struggle out of the ropes, but it didn't work, and she collapsed back, panting.

Just then, a light flickered on. Forcing her head up, Molly tried to take stock of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was a video camera, pointing between her legs. It was probably taking in her whole body -- her face included. Tears ran down her cheeks.

She tried to turn her neck but the ropes prevented her. All she could see was the camera and her own naked body. A few seconds later, she could see nothing at all.

Someone had crept up behind her and tightly tied a blindfold around her eyes. Plunged into darkness, she opened her mouth to scream and swear, and a ball-gag was forced between her teeth. She retched emptily and tried to move, but was now completely restrained as well as silenced and blind. She managed a pathetic whimper that was muffled by the awful gag.

"Good," said a heavy voice that she recognized as Luke's. "The camera has been switched off momentarily so I can explain all this to you. You are mine now, no questions asked. Your stupid boyfriend willingly gave you to me, and you are now my property, as it should have been from the start. Women belong to men." At that last sentence, the feminist part of Molly's brain that had always given her strength willed her into struggling violently and letting out a stream of expletives that became incoherent when muffled by the gag.

"Silence!" snapped Luke. "You are mine. You will do as I say. If I see fit to remove your gag at any point, you will not swear, bite, spit, scream, speak without permission or do anything that would displease me. And you will quickly learn what I don't like." He paused. "You will, however, call me Sir or Master at all times. I will call you whatever I want to. Your body is mine, your identity is mine, your thoughts are mine. You are my slave, and everything about you belongs to me. This camera, when I turn it on, will film you but it will only see my legs. This happens because I want it to. Everything happens because I want it to -- what you want never matters. You have no safe word because I don't care if you want to stop. I can do whatever I want to my property. Like this."

Molly's cheeks were already streaked from crying when she listened to what Luke, who was clearly insane, was saying and the implications of these things. Now, however, they became soaking wet with tears when the last two words of what he was saying were accompanied with a blinding blow of pain across her left tit. Clearly, some sort of belt had been used.

"I'm setting the camera rolling, slut," he said softly, and she heard a beeping sound. Immediately, panic flooded her system as she realized that she was completely helpless, he could do anything to her, it was all on film and there was nothing she could do about it.

Pain began to arrive all over her tits. With each blow of the belt, she attempted to arch her back and scream, but even this small method of pain release was not permitted. Explosions of agony spread through her nipples as he accompanied the painful blows with squeezing her nipples as hard as he could with his nails. Nick had never been this rough.

As he went on, however, she thought she detected wetness in her pussy and sure enough, it became so damp that she couldn't ignore it. She hated what was happening, but somehow her body was reacting to the helplessness.

Luke had noticed it too. He laughed softly and reached down between her legs, where he rolled her swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger. More wetness flowed between her legs. He squeezed her clit lightly and then returned to her tits, where the ugly welts were now making her scream in agony against the gag.

Finally, he stopped and untied her wrists and ankles. Roughly, he shoved her onto the floor and tied her by her leg to the leg of the table. Then, he stood in front of her and she felt something nudge at her face.

"Open up, bitch," he snarled, wrenching the spittle-covered gag from her blindfolded face. Molly quickly opened her mouth, and the head of his cock slipped inside. As he pushed against her face, she could already tell that this was much larger than Nick's had been.

"Eleven inches of meat, bitch," he said, clearly enjoying her discomfort. Eleven inches! He'd split her apart. His cock was much wider than Nick's had been, too.

"Make me enjoy this, slut!" he yelled. "You're not trying." He cuffed her painfully around the head.

Whimpering, she began to slide her tongue up and down the underside of his cock. He moaned and grabbed a fistful of her dark red hair, yanking it painfully. She licked the head of his cock and then began to slide the full thing in and out, her lips rubbing smoothly against the shaft and her tongue dragging along the underside. With her freed hands, she began to fondle his balls, terrified of what he would do if he didn't enjoy this. She played with his testicles while licking his cock, and suddenly he shoved the full eleven inches right down her throat.

She choked. His huge monster hit the bag of her throat and her gag reflex kicked in, sending spasms through his dick. He moaned and left it there, forcing her to deepthroat until lack of oxygen almost made her sick. Black spots were blurring her vision when he finally pulled out, only to shove the whole thing back down again before she'd breathed. Warm, sticky cum streamed down her throat, and she automatically swallowed it all, wanting the cock out so that she could breathe. Finally, just when she thought that she was about to pass out, he finished up and she swallowed the last of the cum as he pulled out. Immediately, she sucked in the air and then collapsed, crying, on her side.

"Get up, bitch," he said disgustedly, dragging her back into a sitting position by her hair. She couldn't believe that this was happening to her. He forced her onto her back, so that her leg was twisted painfully, and then collapsed his full, hairy frame on top of her. His cock found the entrance to her pussy and he began to press inside, the width and length splitting her much further than Nick's ever had done. Despite herself, she began to moan and scream in a combination of pleasure, pain and hatred for what he was making her do. She tried to push him away, but her body was reacting despite her mind's displeasure, and she could feel an orgasm building in the depths of her vagina.

Luke forced the full length into her until his balls met the cheeks of her pussy. He reached a hand down and squeezed her clit, making her shiver. Then, he began to pump in and out of her, his strokes becoming faster and faster as her moans mounted to a screaming crescendo. Finally, his cock released inside her, the spurts of cum burying themselves deep in her. He pulled out just as she reached the brink of orgasm. Frantically, she reached down with her hand, trying to masturbate herself over the edge, but he slapped her hand away.

"You will not pleasure yourself," he told her angrily. Picking her up, he slammed her hard onto the painful table and retied her hands. Quickly, he moved a television over and attached the camera up to it. He hit the play button and the video of the two of them came on, serving to make her hornier. She moaned as her pussy tweaked, desperate for orgasm.

"If you cum without my permission," he told her, "I'll beat you for hours."

"M-may I cum?" she begged, forgetting all her reserve.

"You didn't call me Master," he said angrily, slapping her painful, beaten tits. "And I wasn't going to let you cum anyway. You don't have my permission."

With that, he retied her legs and replaced the gag, so that she was in the same position as before but she wasn't blindfolded. Smiling nastily, he left her to watch the video on repeat, knowing that it would keep her on the edge, but with her pussy untouched she wouldn't be able to find the release.

"You'll stay in here for a few days," he told her. "I'll use you when I want to and feed you when I deem it necessary. You won't be out of this room for about a week. This is where I need to keep an eye on you."

He stepped out of her line of vision and she heard him leave the room and lock the door. Immediately, she began sobbing again. She missed home, she missed Nick, and she missed normality. Surely this couldn't be happening to her? But it was happening, and she lay there with a painful need for release mounting in her hairless pussy. She didn't know what was going to happen to her, but she knew for certain that Luke would never let her escape.


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