The Seaside Inn

I braced myself for him to go lower, to touch me there, but he didn't. After what felt like an eternity, he moved his finger back up, tracing the same pattern across the center of my torso before stopping at my neck. He traced down again, but at a slight angle this time. I felt his finger graze the side of my breast as it made its way down my body. Once again he reached my pubic hair and stopped, like he was savoring the feel of it. He moved back up, and I felt a small deliberate push against my breast as he moved past it.

He was at my neck again, and then down, at a sharper angle. He moved slowly, deliberately, and I felt his single finger touch the top of my chest. The soft flesh of my breast gave way to the pressure. A few moments later he made contact with my areola. He slowed down even more, increasing the pressure, and I felt my nipple stiffen as his fingertip finally made contact. I gritted my teeth as a spark of unwanted pleasure rippled out through my breast.

His finger pulled my nipple down slightly, and it popped back up like a spring when he finally released it and continued onward. I barely noticed when he moved across the muscles in my abdomen and back to my groin. I felt the familiar tickle of his finger in my bush.

The anger inside me was like a roaring bonfire. I wanted to slap him, cry out, anything, but all I could do was stand there obediently as his finger moved back up along my body. He reached the underside of my breast and lifted it up as he traveled. I felt it drop down, and a brief moment later he was touching my nipple again.

The arousal blew through me like a gust of wind, briefly smothering the fire of anger inside me. All I could think was how good it felt. I choked back a gasp, and his finger continued upwards. The anger returned, renewed, the gust of arousal feeding it like a true fire.

"Bastard," I said under my breath.

His finger paused at the base of my neck.

"Sit," he rasped in a commanding tone. I squeezed my legs together tighter, and felt another twinge of unwanted arousal. I fumed, both at him and at my body for reacting how it did, with a flash of heat and wetness between my legs when he commanded me like a dog.

I sat down on the bed.

His hands touched my shoulders, and I pulled inwards, instinctually shying away from the contact, but he maintained a light grip and followed along. He held my shoulders, then slowly moved his hands along my torso, grazing his fingertips along my skin until he reached my tits.

He teased them, barely making contact with the soft edges, the rounded slopes, pressing, testing, steadily increasing the urgency of his touch. I felt his palms surround my nipples, his fingers squeezing my chest, massaging my breasts in slow circles. I couldn't see him, only feel his touch, his skin on mine.

My breasts bounced and swayed as he played with them like a child with a new toy. He lifted them, pushed them together, cupped them, and flicked my nipples. It almost became too much to bear, but he expanded his touching before that happened, running his hands along the subtle hourglass curve of my hip.

Soon his hands were traveling further, past my hips and to the tops of my thighs, then all the way back to my breasts for another round of play. He was driving me wild, pinching and pulling my nipples, then slowly moving his touch up my neck. His fingers brushed against my cheek, and I instinctually turned my face towards them, letting my lips make light contact with his hand.

I felt a sudden strong push at my sternum, and I fell backwards, laying on the bed. I tried to keep my legs clamped together, but his hands quickly ran down my entire body, all the way to my knees. He forced them open with a terrible ease.

A sudden sinking sensation hit me. No, please. No, no, no- I had been lulled by his long slow touches, and the blindfold. Not seeing his ski mask covered face had made me relax, made me forget who I was dealing with. I remembered then, as he pried my legs apart, and felt a terrible helplessness. He was going to rape me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I prayed to God. I begged silently for salvation from this horrible nightmare.

"Don't, please-" I said, my voice sounded small and pitiful to my own ears.

I felt my labia open up as he spread my legs apart. The sensitive inner folds of my pussy laid bare.

"No, no no no," I pleaded again and again. His hands moved up along the soft skin of my inner thighs. They brushed against the small hairs surrounding my vulva, and I heard a rustle of some kind. He was shifting, moving somehow, but I couldn't see. I felt my pussy spread wider as his hands framed my outer lips and opened them up.

I felt something press against my labia. Something soft and wet. It moved up and down my slit, and I gasped at the unfamiliar contact. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

His tongue. He was licking my pussy. I felt it glide along the outside of my sex, circling around the edges as his hands held me steady.

"Aah- god- damn you, don't, please," I bit back a cry of pleasure as his tongue reached my clitoris. I tried to turn it into another insult, another plea to stop, anything other than what it truly was. He moved away and I felt a small bit of relief, but his tongue was back a moment later, licking the lips of my outer labia.

He kissed me, down there, his lips meeting mine in a wet embrace. I had a fleeting realization that he must have lifted his ski mask. I brought my hands to my face, and surreptitiously lifted the blindfold a crack.

I looked down and saw him, his head buried between my legs, but he was still wearing the mask. I couldn't see his mouth, it was latched onto my pussy, and I had to quickly snap the blindfold back when I saw his eyes dart upwards.

My body tensed with a new shiver of fear. Had he seen me? He never explicitly told me not to look, but I couldn't take the chance. His mouth pulled back. I braced myself for some kind of retaliation, but a moment later I felt his tongue again, lower down, right at the entrance to my vagina. He probed it, pressing inwards, forcing me open. I squirmed as his tongue penetrated me, the strange foreign appendage wriggling between my legs.

The sensation changed as he slowly circled inside my entrance, and I felt another unwanted flood of arousal deep inside me. My hips bucked upwards on their own, letting him intrude further inside me. Another burst of anger flared up in me, and I clenched the muscles in my vagina. His tongue was forcibly expelled by the sudden tightening, but another terrible wave of pleasure swept over me as my muscles relaxed.

"Stop," I repeated softly, but it was for nothing. He ran a finger up and down my slit, wetting it, then slid it inside me with an agonizing slowness. I tried to clench again, to stop him from pushing further inside, but it was no use. He overpowered me, burying his finger as deep as it would go in my vagina. I could feel it, wedged inside me, penetrating my most private place.

I shuddered again as his tongue returned to my clitoris. He gently put pressure on it, a circular massage building in intensity with each passing moment.

"Please, stop, please," I begged pitifully, and grimaced as a strong shock of pleasure radiated outwards from my clit. God, I hated him. I hated how he was making me feel.

"Ah- ah- Don't-" I kept pleading as he kneaded my clit with his tongue. His finger curled upwards, slowly rocking in and out, causing more shocks of pleasure.

I could feel something building inside me, the pleasure would reach a plateau, then break through, then another, and another. The hate built with it. I hated him. I hated myself. I hated my body for what it was doing, what it was feeling.

I writhed on the bed, the consistent pressure of his tongue and fingers pushing me close to orgasm.

"Stop- Ah! Stop! Ughh- Please- Don't- Ahhh," I choked out the words between involuntary gasps and grunts. My hips rocked into him, pushing his finger deeper, his tongue closer.

Something broke in me. I couldn't hold it back. I could feel it coming. Cumming. I was so close. I was almost there.

"Please- Aah, please," my protests got softer as I got closer. My mind went blank. All the anger and fear and loathing melted away, replaced by animal lust. I wanted it. I needed it. I let go. I surrendered to him.

"Please, don't stop- Ah- Don't stop! Aughh- Don't stooo- Ahhhhhhhh!"

Every inch of my body tensed. My pussy lit up like a firework, an explosion of pure bliss rocketing across my abdomen. The tips of my toes curled. My face contorted into an ugly sneer as the orgasm crashed through my entire body. I groaned, loud and obscene, while he sucked my clitoris, his mouth riding the spasms rocking my entire lower half.

I was reduced to a blind quivering husk, dazed and lost to the physical sensations. I gasped again when his finger pulled out of me and his lips released their grip on my labia. My breath came out in short, ragged jolts. I kept feeling more waves rock through me, aftershocks of pleasure rolling across my skin.

Hints of noise broke through my reverie. A quiet consistent rustle, then masculine grunting, groaning. Something warm and wet splattered across my breasts, and I flinched, confused about what hit me. I was so dazed, it took me a second to realize what was happening.

He was cumming on me. I should have been disgusted, but instead another strong orgasmic aftershock rushed through me. I felt more thick droplets of semen splash across my tits and stomach. God, he'd covered me with it.

I reached up and instinctually tried to wipe it off. Feeling the sticky wetness of it on my hand pulled me out of my daze. All the anger welled up deep inside me, but it was tempered, distant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of self-loathing.

What had I done? I'd practically begged him. Pleaded with him to keep going, to keep raping me with his mouth and fingers. I was a horrible person. I deserved this. I deserved to be treated like this. I'd cheated, lied, and been a slave to my own desires, and now, this was my punishment.

I pulled my legs up onto the bed, curling into a protective ball. I laid there, unmoving, a stream of negative thoughts racing through my head. I dimly heard the door click shut. He must have left. I could feel his cum drying on my skin, little droplets running down the sides of my breasts. I didn't bother cleaning myself off.

I deserved this. I felt the tears welling up underneath the blindfold. I let out a few choked sobs.

It was almost worse than when he'd forced himself into my mouth. I had righteous anger on my side then, sustaining me, giving me the strength to endure. Now, I had nothing. He'd broken me, made me want it. Made me want him.

Eventually, I mustered the strength to sit up and weakly remove the blindfold. I looked down at my body and saw the clear shiny streaks on my skin. Evidence of how he'd defiled me. I shuddered and grimaced with disgust. I slowly got up and walked into the tiny motel bathroom, turned on the shower, and sat down in the tub. I held my knees to my chest and let the water wash away my shame.

I hauled myself out of the shower after a few minutes and dried off. I was staring into the mirror holding the cheap motel blow dryer next to my hair when I remembered the camera. I took a deep breath, a glimmer of my old self returning. I had to pull myself together. To keep going with the plan. If I could find out who he was, I might be able to stop this, to go back to some kind of normal life.

I got dressed and walked out into the pitch black empty lot behind the motel, using my phone flashlight to stick to the path of trampled yellow grass and dirt. I reached the spot where I'd planted the camera, went into the app and synced the pictures. My eyes went wide when I saw the thumbnails appear in the gallery.

He was there, multiple pictures. I clicked the first one and my heart sank. He was walking along the path wearing his ski mask. It was all for nothing. I scrolled to the next image and saw him again.

My blood went cold. He was leaning over the camera, still masked, waving at it. How? How had he known?

I gritted my teeth in frustration as I stared at his raised hand. He was mocking me. I thought I was so clever, and somehow he was already one step ahead. I yanked the camera out of the ground and stomped back to my car.

I screamed on the drive home. Despair, frustration and anger spilling out of me like a toxic waste. I reached my house and walked inside only to see Paul stepping through the hallway to kitchen.

"You're home late," Paul said offhandedly.

"My TA quit. Didn't I tell you? I never would have assigned all these written exams and homework if I'd known I'd be grading them alone for half a semester," my voice barely cracked from all the groaning and screaming I'd done tonight as I spun the lie.

"Oh, sorry to hear that," he said sympathetically. "Are you going to be grading more tomorrow too? I was going to barbecue up some steaks for all of us."

"I think I'll be free tomorrow, but I'm not sure about later in the week," I said, taking a deep breath.

"Alright," he nodded and walked into the kitchen.

I headed towards the stairs up to my bedroom, catching a glimpse of Kyl glancing towards me from the living room. He looked at me with an unusual intensity, but I brushed it off, too focused on getting to a safe space where I could collect myself.

My heart sank as I glanced at my phone when I reached the top of the stairs. Another email.

THURSDAY. 8PM. SEASIDE INN. NICE CAMERA.

***

I can't keep doing this.

The thought repeated in my head, day after day, hour after hour, until Thursday came. My insides felt like they were made of stone when I parked in the dark motel lot. I had to do something.

I booked a room and trudged down the open air hallway like it was to my execution. I walked inside, dropped my purse, carefully took off my shoes and sat down on the bed. I stared at the carpet, defeated, resigned to whatever horrible fate he had in store for me this time. The clock read 7:58.

He entered at 8pm sharp. I didn't bother looking up from the floor. I stared downwards, stone faced.

"Strip," his voice hit me like a physical slap. I cringed, but then slowly stood up and undressed with clumsy mechanical movements. My entire body blushed. I shook like a leaf with each new article of clothing I dropped to the floor.

"Turn around," he barked his order a few moments after I'd stepped out of my panties. I dropped them on the floor next to me on top of my small pile of garments and turned around. I heard his footsteps come up behind me then stop, inches away.

His fingers slid up my back, reaching my shoulder-length brown hair, combing through it with a disturbing gentleness. Suddenly, he seized a handful and painfully jerked my head back, bending my neck towards him.

"Ah!" I let out a tiny cry of shock and pain.

He tightened his grip on my hair and pushed me forward, bending me over the bed at a slight angle. His other hand grabbed my naked ass with a rough squeeze.

"Trying to spy on me?" He hissed into my ear menacingly. I moaned pitifully, halfway between a sob and a whimper.

It turned into another cry of pain as he spanked me hard with his free hand. The stinging impact sent me reeling. I tried to squirm away towards the bed but he held me firm by the hair.

He pulled his hand back, and a moment later I felt another hard painful slap on my other ass cheek. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

"Ah! Ow! Ahh!" I yelped, as more rough slaps impacted my smooth bare ass.

Smack! Smack!

A horrible heat built between my legs while he spanked me like a naughty child. His blows subsided after a moment, but the pain continued, a sharp burning across my ass cheeks.

I'd never been spanked like that before. It was a sudden burst of violence, backed by strong muscles. He didn't hold back, or pull his blows. They were meant to hurt me, but somehow that untamed power made it a thousand times more arousing than a light playful touch.

Before I could even recover from the shock of it all, his fingers groped between my legs. He ran his hand up and down my pussy with a rough, uncaring urgency. I gasped at the sudden contact. I stared at the ceiling, my head locked in place by his strong grip on my hair.

My mouth opened wide and I let out a shuddering moan of pleasure when his fingers found my entrance, wet and ready. He slid two inside me without any hesitation. He pulled his hand upwards, his palm digging into my clitoris, and nearly lifted me off the ground with the force of his penetration.

I didn't even bother to stifle my moans anymore. His fingers thrust in and out, fast and hard, sending tense shivers of sexual pleasure up my spine. I spread my thighs, letting him push deeper inside me. The combination of the stinging pain still lingering on my ass and the pleasure of his fingers was sending my body into overdrive.

I was already getting close, but as suddenly as he began, he stopped. He pulled his fingers out of me, slow and wet. He let go of my hair and pushed my shoulders down from behind, forcing me onto the bed.

I heard his pants unzip.

Oh god.

He held me down, my breasts mashed into the cool motel blanket, and I felt the unmistakable sensation of his cock poking between my thighs. He repositioned, and the soft head of his penis teased my entrance, running up and down my slit.

Oh god. I gripped the blanket beneath me, bracing myself in anticipation.

He pushed and his cock quickly overcame the natural friction of my skin, sliding into my vagina in one slow powerful thrust.

Oh god!

I felt every agonizing inch of it stretch me out and fill me up with a terrible perfection. My mind was horrified. My body was in heaven. It felt like he was made for me. God, his cock, it was incredible! It was big, but not painful, reaching just the right depth, putting pressure on all the right places.

"Auuhhh," I let out a low moan as he pushed further in. His hips bumped into my ass as he completed his intrusion, burying himself inside me as far as he could go, taking me as his own.

He stopped there, both of us breathing heavily. A moment later, his hips pulled back, and then forward. I let out another moan, the perfect feeling repeated again as he thrust back inside me, the bliss of his cock radiating through my entire being.

I couldn't stop moaning as he slowly fucked me. It was like an uncontrollable physical reaction, a muffled groan escaping my lips each time I felt his cock fill me, again and again. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the backs of my naked thighs added to my arousal, the urgency of it, that he was fucking me without even bothering to pull his pants down.

He picked up the pace, and I heard his own grunting join mine. He pistoned in and out of me, smooth and deep, and the pleasure built to a level I didn't think was possible. My eyes rolled back in my head. I couldn't remember the last time a cock inside me felt this good. I almost never orgasmed from penetration alone, but he was already getting me close.

Hot tears welled up in my eyes as a maelstrom of emotions swirled in my head. I was being raped, violated in the most intimate way by a complete stranger, and it felt physically better than any sex I'd had in my entire life. It was better than my husband, better than David, better than I'd ever imagined sex could feel.

It was utterly devastating, realizing how much my body was craving him. My legs trembled and vibrated, my mouth hung open while I groaned each time he filled my vagina with his cock. I never had any fantasies about being raped, it did nothing but horrify me, the idea of some pig of a man forcing himself on me sent chills down my spine. In the back of my mind I still felt that terror and disgust, but now it was all drowned out by the unfathomable pleasure he was inflicting upon my body as he fucked me from behind.