tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Right to Surrender

The Right to Surrender

byTheDarkCloud©

My new neighbour gave me the creeps the first moment I saw him on the landing outside his flat ( I was on one floor above him). He was furtive and sleazy looking and I sensed that when I had nodded and said hello he leered after me as I ascended the stone stairs. There was just something about him that set all my internal warnings on red alert. Being a policewoman you get a sense for these things and I instinctively thought there was something 'off' about him.

The next time I saw him I was in full police uniform and rushing down the stairs as I was late for my shift. His reaction to the fact I was on the force was even more telling. He displayed classic fear and loathing as he shrunk back against the wall to let me pass, as if just coming into contact with me would somehow harm him. I could again sense him staring after me as I descended and when I glanced back was treated to a glare of contempt that he quickly hid by turning away and scurrying up the stairs.

It was simple for me to check up on him. His name was Norman Miller and he had a rap sheet the length of my arm. Nearly all were for sexual assault or some sort of variation. Starting with indecent exposure and working his way up through assault and his last crime that saw him take five years inside was for a particularly horrible sounding rape of a teenager. So I knew who and what he was but the more I saw of him the more he seemed to stick in my mind and rather than complete revulsion I couldn't quite decide how I felt about him. I mean he was ugly, in his late forties, overweight, he smelled of body odour, was unkempt and unhygienic and knowing all the things he had done (that he had been caught for!) should have made me despise this sex offender -- but it didn't, not completely anyway. I'll admit it here, when I caught him leering or ogling at me when he thought I didn't know about it, it gave me a thrill, turned me on and I couldn't help but think dark and disturbing thoughts -- God I hated myself for them!

*

Over the next couple of months I began to get seriously distracted by my dark musings regarding my neighbour. Things came to a head for me when I had to sit in on an interview with a female plain clothes officer of an alleged rape victim. As this lithe young college girl detailed how she had been drunk and taken advantage of by her older landlord I could not stop myself imagining myself as the young girl and Norman as my attacker. As the tearful girl described how her knickers were torn off and she was taken against her will I swear my eyes were almost closed and I would have killed for the ability to reach down and finger myself at the table. Somehow I prevented this but as I hurried home after my shift ended I barely waited for my door to be shut before I had my own panties off and lay on my bed and frigged myself to the mother of all orgasms.

Afterwards I was filled with guilt and remorse at what I had done. I felt so low, disgusted with myself, I had sunk to a nadir and knew it. I couldn't hide the fact from myself that as I had masturbated furiously I had been imagining myself as the victim and my downstairs neighbour as my attacker.

I was single, 27, blonde and due to my job in very good physical shape. I jogged and worked out, I was fit and could handle myself very well. But I was aware that some of my more 'extreme' sexual fantasies had possessed elements of giving up or losing control and being helpless. I had been in plenty of relationships but nothing steady or regular and for the past six months or so it had been my range of vibrators that had been servicing me. I had so much pent up tension and emotion inside me and I was about to do something I would regret for a long, long time...

*

I stood on my landing looking down the three floors of stairs below as the front door banged shut and I wondered if this time it would be Norman. Mine was the top flat in the building with Norman's the one directly under it. I peered down the narrow gap and watched a hand slowly ascend the shiny black bannister. I gave an involuntary shudder as the hand passed the first floor landing and kept coming up. This was surely him.

I knew for sure when the hand broke off and I heard him shuffle across the landing and open his door. Right then I could imagine his surprise as he stared down at a brown envelope with his name printed in large black letters that I had pushed through his letterbox only minutes earlier. I tried to calm myself and moved back inside my own door, careful not to close it and moved as if in a trance into my bedroom, all the while trying to imagine the scene in Norman's flat. He would pick up and peer curiously at the envelope, it was not stamped so must have been handwritten. I gave a shiver as I imagined him read the words I had written twice the night before ( the first time I had torn my letter up due to a change of mind only to then change my mind back again).

"Norman. This is Chloe your upstairs neighbour writing this. You know me, I'm the blonde policewoman you like to leer and ogle at when you think I'm not looking. I've seen your record. I know who you are and I know what you are and what you have done. I know how you like to treat women. Well today is your lucky day. If you come upstairs in the next hour you will find my front door slightly ajar. If you come up and enter the key is in the door so once in you can close, lock and dead bolt the door. I will by lying face down on my bed in the first room on the right hand side. My arms will be handcuffed behind my back (the key is on my bedside table so I can escape if you do not take me up on my offer) and there will be a ball gag in my mouth and tied around my head.

If you do come then I am completely at your mercy to do with as you wish. You may think this is a trap. It is not. This letter plus the CD (which is a word for word recording of this letter voiced and identified clearly as myself speaking) will give you confidence of that. You will have a one hour window of opportunity from the moment you enter your flat today to act on this, after that I will assume you are not interested and will never repeat or mention this offer again.

Why am I doing this? I could argue that if you take out your urges with me then some other poor unfortunate woman will not be subject to them. Perhaps that is the case. But mainly it is because I want to be the victim, I want to live that scenario of helplessness at the hands of a cruel, sadistic pervert. Do what you will. Chloe Murphy, Flat 4."

I lay on my bed and wondered just what I had done. Could I live with what might just happen? I was off work for four whole days, no one was expecting to see or hear from me in that time. My situation was even more perilous than I had let on in the note. I was now stark naked and lying on my bed, the gag was fitted tightly in my mouth and stretched my lips wide. I strained to lift my head up and looked at the glistening small keys to my cuffs and wondered again if I would be able to release myself from them if Norman did not show. That was surely ten minutes passed by then, maybe he wasn't coming? Maybe he didn't read the note? Maybe..

I heard the unmistakable creak of my front door being pushed open then being slammed shut. Then seconds later I heard the key turn in the lock then the loud clang of the dead bolt being slammed home. I stopped breathing and held my breath. I looked again at the key but knew that it was already too late, I had set the trap for myself and now whether I changed my mind or not I was stuck in it and would have to face the consequences. I felt a warm trickle of juice leak from my hot pussy.

Eventually I had to breathe again but still no one entered the room. I heard movement in the hall then drawers being opened in the kitchen and then in my living room, I was thrown, this was not how I had imagined how this would go. And then I heard the door open behind me and suddenly I felt like a naughty little girl there, exposed and helpless on my bed. I glanced around and sure enough it was Norman standing there. He looked every inch the sleazy, greasy, evil, sadistic, kinky pervert that I knew him to be. And I was totally at his mercy! I supressed a quiver and stared forward, not trusting myself to be able to look at the man and not remember the various police reports I had read from his file. It didn't work and key phrases came leaping into my mind, 'danger to females', 'no remorse', 'sadistic misogynist'. They had made me wet sitting at a desk at Police Headquarters, trying to imagine his crimes but here and now perhaps they were not as arousing as they had been. I wriggled on the bed and part of me wished I had not gagged and cuffed myself and I could back out of this. I f I could just get up and get the key maybe it was not too late.

The first thing he did as he approached the bed though was to reach forward and pick up those keys and pocket them. Whatever hope I had of getting out of my own trap were now totally gone.

I felt him looking down at my naked, exposed body. Could sense his arousal and disdain for me and I nearly jumped a foot in the air as he brought his clammy hand down and slowly stroked my backside.

Just as I had adjusted to him touching my ass his middle finger slid down between my cheeks and prodded roughly at my pussy lips. Of course, I was soaking and his finger slid easily inside me. No sooner was it in though than it was removed and I just about saw him draw his finger up to his nose, sniff it then suck it and give a sigh of satisfaction. Standing there he looked every inch the dirty, rotten, perverted rapist he was. He truly repulsed me yet here I was aroused beyond normal levels at exposing myself and laying myself completely at his mercy.

CLICK.

The mechanical noise made me strain my head around just in time for a second one. The bastard was standing taking pictures of me. I tried to speak through my gag but it was just a muffled series of grunts and I realised the hopelessness of the situation I had created. I had not thought he would take pictures and immediately I worried where the pictures might end up. It was like he read my mind and a sick, twisted grin spread across his face so I could see his discoloured, misshapen teeth as he popped the camera back into his jacket pocket.

He still had not spoken but his next action told me all I needed to know as he lifted his left hand and showed me what it was holding -- my very own truncheon!

His grin extended even further as my eyes widened as I saw it but unfortunately my neck was getting too sore from twisting around and I had to turn to face forward to relieve the pressure. Almost the second after I did I heard a whistle through the air followed instantly by a loud crack then a spreading pain over my backside. The bastard had just whipped my bum with my own truncheon. And then I froze as I felt him press it end on in between my tight ass cheeks. I moaned in arousal into my gag as it brushed against my pussy lips then yelped as he adjusted up and shoved it right into my unsuspecting asshole!

I squirmed and squealed into my gag as he moved it around, working it in and out and around in my ass and for the first time that afternoon I heard his voice. He leaned forward to hiss in my ear, his sour breath hitting my nostrils as he spoke.

"Got to loosen that hole of yours up a bit copper, because it's going to get a hell of a lot of action before the night is through."

Oh God. I hated myself but his horrible threat was turning me on even more and my squirming was certainly not all down to the uncomfortableness of being ass fucked by a length of round wooden pole. He even left he truncheon in there and stopped to take another picture of me, face down with it sticking up out of my ass. If that had any humour ,what he did next had none. He plucked the truncheon from my gripping, dry asshole and then with surprising speed released my gag. As I made to speak he shoved the truncheon, fresh from my own asshole deep into my mouth.

"Clean it up copper, can't have you police bitches not having clean equipment, can we?"

If part of what I had wanted from doing this was to feel dirty and degraded then this was working. I lay there and the realisation I had no say in the matter hit home hard. I had given Norman all the cards and now he was dealing them out. I hated myself right then, but I guess that had been my intention all along. I took my own truncheon into my drooling mouth and recoiled at the taste and the smell from my own asshole but with nowhere to go I had to take it in and start to pathetically lick and suck on it as if it was a big, hard cock. Again Norman took pictures of me doing this and now I could see that his own dick was out of his trousers and what a disgusting prospect it presented. It was long and quite fat and surrounded by a mess of kinky, black pubic hair. It looked slimy and unwashed and it was clearly getting harder and stiffer each time he pushed the truncheon into my mouth and gagged or choked me.

He must have noticed me looking at his dick and leaving the truncheon deep in my throat he began to wank himself as I looked on.

"Fucking copper bitch likes to play nasty do you? Know what I've done you say? Cunt, you have no idea what I've done! But you soon will!"

Suddenly the camera was away and replaced in his hand by a pair of scissors from my kitchen. My fear / arousal grew at the sight of this. I thought of his words and thought back over some of the cases I had read about that weren't solved. Sexual assaults, even murders, could this nasty pervert that I had given myself to have been responsible for any of them?

He smirked at the doubt on my face and plucked the truncheon from my gasping mouth.

"We don't need a gag now, do we bitch? But I'll tell you what we don't want disturbed do we? If you make a sound while I help myself to your holes then that pretty ponytail of yours is coming home with me."

At that he held the scissors over my head and I felt the blades settle on my hair. Oh God, I had always been so proud of my hair but why had I been so turned on when Britney Spears went off the deep end and shaved her head bald? It was so humiliating and the thought of him doing this to me bizarrely excited me too, but I said nothing as he got on the bed behind me and I felt him prize my thighs apart.

From his words earlier I thought he was going for my bum but I felt his slimy dick press past that entrance and spear its way lower into my soaking wet cunt. I bit back a gasp as he entered me. Of course I had known that the bastard wasn't likely to wear a condom but the fact just hit home as he pushed into me and I could feel his rapist's dick fill me up. He kept the scissors around my hair and as he started to pushing then pull out and fuck me he brought his other hand forward and slapping mockingly at my body. On my ass, my sides and stretching forward to slap at my face. And now that he had spoken there was no stopping him.

"Yeah bitch. Like that? You know how many cunts have taken this? I bet you have an idea. I bet you even know what I did with those other whores, don't you? And you want the same, don't you? Yeah you want the same? Come on, beg me to rape you copper, beg me!"

I bit my lip and said nothing, fearing that he was all too serious about those fucking scissors.

He continued to pump away at me for over five minutes, verbally abusing me all the time as well as fucking me hard. And then his thrusts started to get more ragged and desperate and I sensed that he was about ready to cum. He reached under me and twisted my left nipple and as I stifled a squeal he leaned forward and hissed in my ear.

"I really want to get you pregnant bitch!"

"No!"

Even as I called out I heard and felt Norman snap the scissors together and felt the weight of my long blonde hair disappear. I was stunned. There was no way I had expected him to do that, I had grown my hair long for years and was so proud of it, it was one of my best features. And now that sick bastard held it in his hands and playfully swatted my face with it while his warm seed lay deep in my womb. Eventually he rolled me over and sat me on my bed, I couldn't bring myself to look at him. He took a bright red lipstick from ,my dresser and wrote the word PIG on my forehead and WHORE on my belly.

"That's what you are isn't it pig? Just a fucking whore that gets off on this! Come on tell me!"

"OK! OK! I'm a whore. I'm a slut. I'm a pig! I get off on being treated like this. Now please let me cum. Please!"

I had been betrayed by my body again and Norman just grinned and swatted me with my ponytail and left calling over his shoulder.

"I'll be back soon, if you're still there maybe I'll help you out."

I heard him slam the door and lock it with my key and with my hands handcuffed I was totally helpless and left wondering what would come next...

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byTheDarkCloud© 21 comments/ 105814 views/ 89 favorites
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