The Right Place at the Wrong Time

Warning: this story strays very hard into non-con

This story is based on an old story I once read. (probably on this site but long enough ago I can't remember clearly) I spent some time trying to find it, but couldn't, it might even be deleted, so I decided to make my own version, using the bare essentials I remembered liking, while adding my own spin to it. If by some unfathomable chance the author of the old story I read sees this, well... you know what they say about imitation.

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It had been just another boring day, when twelve men stormed into the bank I worked at. They were all dressed alike, head to toe in black, ski masks on and assault rifles at the ready. Four of them stood out from the rest, clearly in charge, distinguished by the color of their ski masks: Blue, Red, Green, and Orange. The rest of them all wore black, with a white number on their forehead, one through eight.

Blue rounded up the customers as Red jogged towards the stairs leading down to the vault and safety deposit boxes. Orange was fixing handcuffs on the poor security guard who'd taken a blow to the back of the head during their dramatic entrance. Green headed our way, leaping over the partition neatly and gesturing with the end of his gun. "Listen up, we don't want to hurt anyone if we don't have to, and I'm sure none of you wants to get hurt, so let's all calmly follow my instructions and we'll all get through this, okay?" He tossed a pile of clear plastic bags towards us. "Put every bit of paper money you can grab into those bags, quick like, if you please."

None of us were paid enough to try anything. Maybe one of the other tellers or the manager had been able to trip the silent alarm, but I had frozen the moment I saw them. I'd had dreams that started like this. Good dreams. As I watched them stream into the lobby, terrified screams echoing in their wake, a wave of tingling fear swept up my spine tinged with something I suspected no one else was feeling. I have a terrible secret you see. A secret that keeps me up, night after night, abusing myself with a vibrator. A secret I have never told anyone. A secret that has made every boyfriend a disappointment in the bedroom. A secret that terrifies me. I've never even spoken this secret aloud, not even to myself, to make it seem less real. A secret that has kept me perpetually shy, avoiding parties, and sports, or live music. I was content to live a quiet life as far away from aggressive men as possible, never having to confront my greatest fear.

I tried not to think about it as I shoved money into the bag, opening the till and dropping what had to be a few thousand dollars into it. We were supposed to add an ink bomb, but that was probably why they'd given us clear bags. Either way, I wouldn't have. I tried to make myself small. I focused on my yoga breathing, trying to keep it even so I wouldn't hyperventilate, my heart pounding in my throat making me feel frantic. The last thing I needed was to feint. That would just draw attention. My hands trembled as I forced them to move. I kept my eyes down, letting my long hair fall forward, hiding my face, as I gave Green the bag full of money, dropped haphazardly at his direction into a large duffel bag placed at his feet. I shuffled back to the huddled group of scared tellers, eyes on my feet, trying not to panic. I wasn't just afraid of him, I was afraid he'd see right through me. I couldn't help but notice how much larger he was than me. One look into my eyes and he'd know that I wasn't just afraid. One look and he'd know my secret. I was aroused. More aroused than I'd ever been in my life.

My deep dark terrible secret you see, was that I was hopelessly addicted to rape porn.

My favorites were stories. I loved reading a nice quick fantasy about a midnight intruder who just couldn't help themselves, or a boss abusing their authority. Kidnappings, abductions, locker-room pranks turned gang bangs, blackmail, mind-control, aliens, it didn't matter. As long as there was a girl who didn't want to, but was forced anyway, I got off, and I got off hard. I didn't choose to be this way, it's not my fault, it's just how I'm wired. I never cum as hard as when I'm fantasizing about being pinned and ravished, or tied up and teased until I beg to be raped. I know it's fucked up, I know I'm fucked up, but I couldn't stay away. The more fucked up the story, the harder I would cum. So I did my best to make sure I was never confronted with this horrible truth.

Luckily it's not exactly the easiest kink to encounter in the wild. The one serious boyfriend I'd had, had broken up with me for being boring in bed. He'd always wanted me to do things to him or for him, ride him, suck him off, dancing and stripping, and I'd always felt so awkward and unsure. I'd never been comfortable enough to share my fantasies. Now though, being trapped in a situation where there was an actual tangible chance it might happen, I was scared out of my mind, yet unable to stop the fantasies from playing out in my head over and over.

In one version they all fuck me at once, ripping my clothes off and and having their way with me, brutal and quick. In another, one of them takes me for themselves, each picking out a different hostage to slake their lusts on. He takes me to another room for some privacy, ties me down and teases me until I'm begging to suck his dick for an orgasm. In another I'm bent over and tied to a desk, as they fuck me one by one, taking turns, overwhelmed by the endlessness of the fucking until I'm so raw and worn out they switch to my ass. In another, I'm made to perform with another woman, and put on a show for them, until they're overcome and start joining in.

By the time they had collected the money and led us to the open lobby with the customers I was dripping wet. After they handcuffed us and had us sitting on the floor there was nothing I could do to stop the flood of fantasies, each more depraved than the last. Arms taught behind me and chest pushed forward, I kept my head down, hair covering my face and chest, praying over and over they wouldn't notice me, or ask me to do anything. It was then I remembered, terror creeping up my veins, that I hadn't worn underwear that day. I don't do it often, but sometimes I'm just in a mood, and today of all days, had been one of those. My breathing went quick and shallow and my head swam. I tried counting my breaths but it took a while to get my breathing under control. By the time I did the other robbers had returned and were adding their own bags of money to the large duffel bag.

"Cops will be here in six minutes," said Green, checking his watch.

"Good, we're right on time," Blue replied.

I had glanced up at them when they started talking, but looked away quickly, not wanting to draw their attention. I stared down at my lap and winced at how prominent my nipples were through my top and bra. They had been aching hard since I was put in handcuffs. If this were a story I was reading I'd be pinching and rubbing them by now. I breathed deep and slow trying to calm my racing heart. Terrible dark fantasies came and went, and I started to worry about staining the back of my skirt. I tried rubbing my thighs together to hopefully spread out my wetness, stop it from dripping down. It only made everything worse, and suddenly all I could think about was how slippery my pussy was, and how good it felt to squeeze and rub my thighs together. My eyes fluttered closed, lips parting...

Please don't let them notice me.

Sirens outside. My heart leapt for a brief moment, but I knew better. These men looked professional. They looked very ready to deal with the police. Two of the numbered men stood on either side of the entrance. They had shoved and upended some desks to act as cover in front of the large glass doors, guns lowered but ready. The one on the right reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone in one of those heavy duty cases. Carefully, keeping his body out of view from outside, he opened the door a bit and flung the phone out into the street.

After a few minutes of tense silence, the vibration of a phone broke the calm. Blue pulled the phone from his pocket, handing his rifle to Red. "Hello," he said in a deep, calm voice. He paused, listening. "I'm the leader of this operation," another pause, "I have almost thirty hostages, customers and employees of the bank," another longer pause, "we have two demands, a hundred million in cash, non-sequential and random denominations, and three helicopters landed on the roof of this bank. For every hour our demands go unmet, we will rape one of the hostages."

Gasps from around the room, then slowly, from several directions, quiet crying. The fear crested over us in a palpable wave. I shrank in on myself. Trembling. I squeezed my thighs together, horribly aware of how wet I was. My clit starting to harden and throb.

Please no please no please no...

"That's right," Blue continued, amusement laced through his words. It was quiet enough to hear the outraged yelling on the other end of the call, "and, just to prove we're serious," he continued, trailing off while gently placing the phone down on a nearby ATM with out ending the call, a furious and unintelligible voice screaming through the tinny speaker. His thick military style boots clicked softly as he walked towards us. The crying had stopped, all of us frozen and silent in fear of what would happen next, no one wanting to draw attention to themselves.

Please no please no please no I chanted in my head as Blue stalked around the huddled hostages, muttering 'eanie-meanie-miney-moe' under his breath as he made his way through the terrified group. He came up to where I was and I froze, not even daring to breathe, but he didn't stop, continuing to walk all the way to the end of the group before turning back around the way he came, muttering a different rhyme 'how many wishes does it take'. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to wake up from this nightmare.

He stopped walking, and I heard him say, "Look up at me," then a woman shrieking, pleading with him. "Look up at me or I'll have to really hurt you," he added. She managed to stifle her crying for a moment, a bubbling wet "please". Then, after a horribly tense silence, he kept walking, going back to his rhymes, leaving the almost selected woman sobbing hysterically in relief.

The slow footsteps halted again, and my eyes shot open, my heart sinking into my stomach. Two large black boots before me, facing me. I stared at them, trying to wish them away. Keep looking I prayed. Not me, please not me.

"Look up at me," he said, calmly.

Hot fat tears I couldn't control ran down my face. I tried to look as pitiful and sympathetic as I could as I slowly raised my eyes to his, bottom lip trembling. He was huge, tall and strong, muscles bulging obviously despite the drab unflattering tactical clothes. Vivid green eyes stared back at me from behind the ski mask, a wide cruel smirk full of menace slowly crossing his face as he perused my form.

"Please no," I whispered. I wanted to scream like the other woman, but fear had all but paralyzed me.

Blue crouched towards me and I shrunk back from him. His hand shot out, reaching behind me to grab an ankle, dragging me from the huddled group.

"NO!" I shrieked, kicking and flailing, bound hands scrabbling uselessly at the slick marble floor as I twisted trying to kick my leg from his grip. His hand was like a vice, and he was strong enough to make dragging my weight effortless. "No no no no no no, please, no STOP PLEASE!" Each successive 'no' was more pathetic than the last as my voice transformed into a broken sobbing whine I barely recognized. He pulled me into a open area, then knelt down over me, tearing open my blouse, buttons scattering across the ground in every direction.

"Leave her alo-" a voice called out before being swiftly silenced, the manager I think, followed by the unmistakable sound of a person being struck, and hitting the ground in a limp heap. I fought Blue mask, trying to twist onto my front, but with my hands handcuffed behind my back and how strong he was it was no use. He grabbed me by the knees, pushing them up against my chest with my legs bent, and then, trying to draw them apart. My legs trembled fighting against his strength.

"Nooooooooooo," I moaned out, my voice a broken desperate thing. I thrashed, kicking uselessly against his chest and tried with all my might to keep my legs closed, but my stamina waned, and in an instant I was spread open, knees touching the ground on either side of my body, bound arms forcing me into an arch. Skirt pooling down around my waist. My pussy spread wide, so wet, strands of juice stretched across my labia for an instant as the lips peeled apart. My thighs were slick and shiny from rubbing before, and the tops of my thigh high lace stockings were stained with my arousal.

"Jesus Kelly," I heard that bitch Karen mutter from across the room, her voice full of shock and judgment. My face burned in shame.

Blue stared down at my pussy, stunned for a moment, "Damn," he said, in a low half growl. I throbbed under his gaze, and everything in me clenched, forcing a dribble of cream out to trickle down to my asshole. His eyes flicked up to mine. He let go of me to unbutton his pants, no underwear to impede him, his dick springing free, large and thick and already so hard. A dramatic curve had the swollen cock-head pointing straight up. It throbbed visibly, a bead of precum forming on the tip. The sight of it sent me into hysterics and I kicked and pushed on the ground to slide away from him. I felt my heels break against the ground in my thrashing, but his hands shot out, hard as stone, grabbing me by the ankles and pulling me back until he was straddling me again.

One hand went over my throat, I shrieked, but he wasn't choking, just firm, keeping me pinned to the ground. The other he fisted at the front of my bra and ripped it from me, the hooks and straps giving way painfully. I shouted in pain and tried to turn and hide, but he went for my legs again, hooking his arms under my knees and folding me in half. He towered over me, staring down at my revealed form, hunger in his eyes, and a wide menacing smile behind the blue mask.

He loomed over me as he leaned in, pressing his cock to my bare pussy until it flattened between our bodies. He just held it there, letting me feel its heat, and the way it throbbed against me. I begged him, "Please no, please stop, please don't do this." His arms kept my legs wide so he was free to release my knees. He took my shoes off first, flinging them behind me. He stroked a lone finger down a foot, tickling me, making me twitch and shift uselessly, only serving to rub against him, "STOP!" I shrieked, my pleading ignored. He leaned in further and I flattened against the ground as much as I could, turning my head to the side and closing my eyes, pain spiking up through my wrists and arms and shoulders. He gathered my hair into a tail at the top of my head, and pulled it out, forcing my head straight, pulling hard enough to force my eyes open, his dark threatening gaze an inch from mine.

He leaned in to the side, half-whispering in my ear, his chest rumbling as he spoke, "no panties and soaking wet, I think you we're hoping I'd pick you."

I rebelled, shrieking and screaming at him to get off me, but he just laughed, dark and low, his head moving down while his grip of my hair kept me taut, the width of his arms and shoulders keeping my legs bent and spread to either side. He sucked an aching hard nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue in a way that made my insides melt, then biting it making me clench and flutter around his pinned cock. My cries of "No" and "Stop" started to sound horrifyingly like moans, so I bit my lip and tried to make no noise as he worked his hot mouth, sending pleasurable tingles up and down my body. He moved around the nipple now, nipping and biting and sucking randomly around my breast, leaving hickeys and raw red skin behind.

He switched to the other nipple, and he sucked harder, and his nips and bites turned aggressive and painful. I gasped, feet kicking the air uselessly, and almost moaned, but choked it off, "please" I said, in a voice so quiet and pitiful it made me cringe. His other hand ripped the zipper on my skirt open, forgoing the pull and just forcing the teeth apart. He pulled it roughly out from under me and flung it away, leaving me naked save my button-less shirt pooled uselessly down my arms and my thigh high lace stockings that did more to showcase than cover.

He moved back up until we were eye to eye again, his grip in my hair pulling taut, painful enough to make my eyes water until I kept them open on his. He arched his pelvis and slid his cock down the length of my pussy until he found that spot and dipped in the first half inch, the fat head of his cock just kissing the opening of my insides as they fluttered against him. I could feel my heartbeat in my clit. Tears poured from my eyes in mourning at the end of my blissful ignorance. This was it, no going back, I was revealed.

"Scream and cry all you want," he said in a low, husky growl, "I can feel how much you want this," he said.

"Noooooooooo," I moaned in a defeated voice, eyes closing again in shame, fresh tears staining my cheeks. He pulled my hair again forcing me to meet his gaze. No escape I thought mournfully.

"No?" he asked, in a cruel mocking voice, "don't cum then. Prove me wrong."

He sank in slow, my mouth falling open. I tried to clench as hard as I could to keep him out, but I was so slick he glided in effortlessly, a quiet grunt the only evidence of his effort to penetrate me.

In and in and in...

I tried to be silent but a horribly embarrassing guttural noise escaped me as he bottomed out, groins pressed flat, a vocalization of shocked unwanted pleasure renting the room. I felt stretched and full in the best way, hating my body for betraying me. Hating the way my pussy squeezed down on it, over and over. Hating how fucking good it felt.

"Fuck," he muttered, eyes rolling to the back of his head before closing, his mask doing nothing to hide his obvious enjoyment of me, mouth slack. He stilled, soaking in my juices, and I tried and failed to ignore the way his cock throbbed in me, over and over. I failed to ignore how hot and hard it was. I failed to ignore how incredibly satisfying it was to clench down on it.

I'm being raped. I thought, suddenly, and for an extremely brief moment the reality of it all came crashing down on me, but I was detached from it, a distant truth, a moment of clarity. Then, as quickly as it had appeared it left, and all I could think about was how good it felt to be stuffed full of cock.

I clenched around him, extra hard, and his eyes shot open. He growled at me, "that is with out the doubt the wettest pussy I've ever felt. You didn't even need the foreplay did you? You were good to go at just the thought, weren't you, you little rape slut?"

I wanted to die. Shame overwhelmed me and I started sobbing. Its not true its not true! I thought. I wanted him to be lying, just messing with me, but the truth was in his voice. There was no guile there, just honest appreciation, maybe even a little surprise. I wilted in my embarrassment, turning red from the top of my head to my chest, tingles of shame making me cringe. Had they heard him say that?

He leaned closer and whispered right in my ear, his hot breath making me shiver, "try not to cum little rape bait. Don't cum, and maybe I wont let anyone else have you."