Tracking Her Down

John first met Octavia during the lockdown on one of the porn forums he frequented online. Like many of the girls who could no longer swipe right to get laid now that the virus was on the loose, she'd decided to get her kicks showing strangers her slutty side, and had quickly slipped from tit pics to indulging in more depraved fetishes. One would think she'd caught his eye over any one of the other sluts on the site because of her lean, well muscled body or the excellent composition of her photos. Even the fact that she took so many of her shots outside, tied to a tree or groveling stark naked with her knees in the dirt made her fairly unique, and might have been a reason for her to stand out.

But the real reason he became fixated on her was because she was an arrogant, superior little cunt.

Everyone knew the type. She was a opinionated socialist feminist foodie that identified as a lesbian leaning poly princess. She also had a soft spot for rape and breeding fantasies; preferably both at once, even though she proudly told everyone she worked for planned parenthood and would never let a man ruin her body with a baby. She was arrogant to a fault, and unless she was commenting on her favorite fantasies, she would get in arguments with anyone in the comments about anything she felt sufficiently opinionated about. The president. Global warming. Abortion. Fashion. Pizza. You name it, and she'd fight about it. After crossing her path a couple times and jerking off about the pictures she posted for the fourth or fifth time, he decided he had to have her. If anyone deserved to get a little humility raped into her, he thought, it was Octavia.

Surprisingly, once he decided to find her it was shockingly easy. Pride goeth before a fall, and it was her tendency to argue and give her opinion on almost everything that gave her away. She'd left just enough information scattered around in her long comment history to create a trail of breadcrumbs straight to her front door. Discussions about various universities in the area narrowed it down to a region, her employment narrowed it down to a few towns within that area, and the specialty of her favorite pizza shop narrowed that list down to a single small berg tucked away in a quiet corner of New England.

After that it took only a few minutes with google earth to locate the collapsing barn that featured so prominently in the background of so many of her exhibitionist pictures. It was a distinctive landmark, and once it was located, there were really only two or three houses she might be living in. After he'd figured that out, all he had to do was wait and clean out his work van in case he decided her home wasn't a good spot to give the bitch what she had coming.

It's one thing to feel so safe behind a screen that you show your tits to strange men for the thrill.. But it's outright hubris to be so certain that you're untouchable that you share with everyone when you're ovulating, and thanks to all the discussions about how regular she was, and the gaps in her posting history that lined up well with when she was probably menstruating, anyone who cared to know had a pretty good idea of when that was. Next weekend was when Octavia was at her most fertile; it would be the perfect time to pay her a visit and make all of her fantasies real.

The thought was intoxicating and very distracting, and John spent the rest of the week going through the motions at work, while watching her continue to be a little whore online. Then when Friday finally came, he took off from work early, drove a few hours up the coast and parked on the shoulder of a dirt road less than a quarter mile behind the cluster of houses he found online. Then he went for a little walk with some binoculars and a bag of tricks and waited in the shade while he tried to figure out which one of them was hers.

It didn't take long; she came home a little after five in her aging red hybrid, and walked into the house with no idea that tonight she was going to finally get what was coming to her. Not long after that, another car with another woman parked as well, though it was impossible to say for sure if she was a roommate or a girlfriend. Thanks to Octavia's post history he'd already known that she didn't live alone.

John hardly had a full picture as they moved inside the house, but he watched them as they briefly drifted back and forth between the places he could see: the kitchen window, the sliding back door that led to a falling down deck, and once, when Octavia changed out of her scrubs, her very own bedroom window while he hid invisibly well back from the tree line. The bitch didn't make any effort at privacy - she was practically begging for someone to take advantage of her. Tonight was the night she was going to finally get her wish he thought, certain he knew how the rest of the night was going to play out as his dick grew hard in anticipation of tonight's delights. It wasn't long after that though, that other cars started showing up, and he worried he might have to change his plans.

The girls seemed to be just housemates, and tonight they were having some kind of get together. A dinner party? An actual party? He couldn't say for sure with his limited view, but John did his best to figure out. Afterall, if it was a real party then extra people might end up staying the night, and that could make things complicated - he might have to come out and visit another time. So for the next few hours he watched them while the sun set, and the chill rose. He watched the assembled guests have a great time inside as they walked in and out of his vision, drinks in hand or chatting with one another.

After a while John worried this could go on for hours more, so he finally went back for a thicker jacket around ten when it really started to get chilly. By the time he got back though, the party was finally winding down. One of the cars had left, another was leaving, and the roommate was in the kitchen doing dishes. So he sat back down on a felled trunk and waited for the lights to go out one by one. Finally at half past eleven he watched the last light in the house go out in Octavia's bedroom, and set an alarm for one hour on his phone. It was a good thing he did too, because by the time it went off at twelve thirty five, John was starting to nod off.

Going to sleep wasn't the plan. He'd waited a long time for this moment, and he wasn't going to bed until after he'd filled that whore up with his cum, he reminded himself, as he got up and started walking towards their backdoor. While he walked through the darkness, he didn't sneak or run. There wasn't any point. It was dark and isolated - there was no one to see him. Instead he merely strolled up to the back door, only showing any care at all when he stepped on to the rickety porch to minimize any unexpected squeaks. It wasn't locked, and he slid it open without effort. The dining room and living room still showed some evidence of clutter from the dinner party that they'd left for the morning, but otherwise it was a nice, unassuming home with nothing to differentiate it from any one of John's friend's houses.

He paused a moment after he shut the door, listening for any movement or noise, but the house was silent, and the only sound was a faint snoring coming from the roommate's open door, which he pulled quietly shut on the way past as he walked through the living room, and turned toward his goal. Octavia's door was closed, but fortunately not locked, and he pulled it open with only the slightest squeak. Even this small sound made him stop immediately though, as he looked for any sign he'd been heard. But the body shaped shadow in the bed didn't make a move, so after a few long moments he relaxed and entered the bedroom, shutting the door behind him without issue.

John took a moment to let his eyes adjust in the dark bedroom, lit only by the starlight and a waning gibbous moon, taking it all in as the shadows slowly took on greater detail. The room was every bit as messy as it looked in the background of some of the photos Octavia had posted, and he had to walk carefully to get to the bed without making any noise, or worse, tripping, but there was a wealth of information to be gleaned from the chaos. The posters that haphazardly decorated the walls outlined her musical tastes and favorite political causes, the clothes scattered on the floor around the closet spoke to both her profession and her style outside of work, and the panties and the vibrator on her nightstand made it clear she slept naked and was more than a little horny this time of the month.

It was everything he'd expected, and so John turned his gaze to the real focus of attention. She was laying in bed, mostly covered by a thin sheet that only hinted at her curves while she lay on her right side. This made her face away from him while her dark hair cascaded across her pillow and sheets. She was deep asleep and entirely defenseless. John set down his bag next to her bed and started to strip, putting his shoes, pants, and shirt in a neat pile on the floor next to his bag. When he was naked he pulled out a roll of duct tape and a couple industrial zip ties, and then gently pulled the sheet off of the sleeping woman, causing a tide of goosebumps to rise on her back as she shifted to a more fetal position to stay warm from the sudden draft.

John had intended to crawl in immediately and get on to the main event, but instead he paused a moment to appreciate the slut who would be his latest conquest. Octavia was a woman in her thirties, but if he didn't know that, he wouldn't have guessed she wasn't any older than 25. Her muscle tone was exquisite and the way the small muscles of her back flexed as she moved beneath her pale skin made his dick start to slowly swell again. That was the deciding factor that made him climb into bed with her, and pulled the sheet back over both of them, spooning up behind her.

For a moment there was no reaction, and then Octavia relaxed into him, snuggling her back slightly into his warm chest. At first he thought it was just a sleepy automatic reaction, and then she said, "Mmmmm, Mark, so you decided to come back and stay the night with me after all? Lucky me." John didn't say anything, he just reached his arm over her and gently groped her left tit through the sheet, making Octavia sigh and relax even further. His hand didn't stay there long though, slowly it drifted up to her neck. She enjoyed the touch, leaning her head back as his grip slowly tightened. Finally, when his grip was vicelike around her, and she was grinding her ass in pleasure against his hardening cock, he broke the spell.

"Who the fuck is Mark," he growled in her ear.

The reaction was instant as she suddenly writhed and fought against the stranger that had appeared in her bed. She tried to scream, but she couldn't even do that. In this position she couldn't do much at all. She was a foot shorter than John and almost a hundred pounds lighter than him. Her only chance would be to wake up her roommate with a cry for help, but with his strong hands around her neck that wasn't going to happen. Steadily John increased the pressure on her throat until she couldn't even breath. This stopped her struggles almost as quickly as they started as she brought her hands to her throat, trying and failing to pry loose her attacker's grip.

"Listen up, cunt," John whispered, not relaxing his grip. "You've had this coming for a long time, and there's no way you're getting out of it. At this point you have two choices. You can get fucked by me like a good girl, or you can make a lot of noise, wake up your roommate, and then I'll have to let her play too."

"What's it going to be slut," he asked, letting go of her neck and grabbing one of her wrists as he moved to zip tie it to the headboard. "Are you going to fuck me, or are you going to turn this from a private party in to a three-way?"

"You wouldn't," Octavia said, in a voice barely above a whisper. "You couldn't."

"I will," John countered confidently, "and while I'm fucking her first, I'll make you watch and let her know that this is all your fault. You were the one that was a whore online. You were the one that begged for the attention of rapists. You were the one that told those monsters where to find you. She'll never forgive you for that. I can't say I blame her."

"You found me from my pictures?" Octavia asked, a note of despair creeping into her voice. "How? That's not possible. I was too careful." The discussion itself was practically an admission of defeat, and John smiled in the darkness. He had the little bitch. Her guilt would bind her better than any rope he might have brought with him.

"Yeah, that's you. So careful that there's no way a man online could know where to find you, or even where you're at in your cycle right now. Right?" He asked, rhetorically, his voice flooded with sarcasm. "You were so careful that a rapist like me could never find a fertile little slut like you."

"Oh my god," Octavia said quietly to herself as John released her, rolling her onto her back, and secured her other hand to the headboard with his second zip tie. "Then you know you can't do this to me. Not now. Not tonight. It's the worst time for me." The note of fear in her voice was quickly rising to a hysterical tenor, as she started trying to rationalize the terrible thing that was about to happen to her.

Once she was secured, John shifted, sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched as she started to struggle, babbling about how she couldn't do this and that, that this couldn't happen to her and allowed himself to enjoy her panic for a moment. Octavia's voice got a little bit louder with every syllable though, as the fear started to overwhelm her and all too soon, he knew that he would have to let this perfect moment end, which he did with a sudden slap across her face just hard enough to shock her to silence.

"Listen up cunt," John said as harshly as he could in a whisper, "There's nothing you can do to stop me from fucking the pussy you've been showing off for the last few months to anyone with a smartphone. There's nothing you can do to stop me from cumming deep inside your fertile cunt. If you wanted to avoid the consequences of being a slut, then you should have gotten on the pill like all the other tinderellas and skanks showing their tits. Now it's too late. All you can do is decide whether or not you want to be violated in privacy, or if you want me to explain the whole thing to the girl down the hall as I rape her in front of you.

"Honestly I don't care which." John added after a second. It was a lie though; to him this was personal. He wanted to give Octavia his undivided attention, and exciting as it might normally be to have two women under his power at once, it would ruin the night he planned. Octavia for her part said nothing, which wasn't consent, but it was acquiescence as John moved again so he could force her legs open. She tried her very hardest to keep her rapist from prying her muscular thighs apart, but only lasted twenty seconds before her legs were splayed wide before him, showing him her helpless little cunt, barely visible as a shadow in the dark room.

John let go of her legs after he moved his body between them, preventing them from closing again as his victim squirmed lightly, testing her bonds.

"You don't have to do this," Octavia pleaded quietly, as her rapist adjusted his position, his cock so close to her unprotected cunt that she could probably feel the heat of his body, even if he wasn't touching her yet. "Just untie me and go. I won't tell anyone. I won't -- ahhh." Octavia gasped suddenly, interrupted in her attempt to appeal to her tormentor's humanity by the feeling of a strange dick pressing against her pussy lips. She was soaked.

"You know, you claim you don't want this whore, but you're already soaking wet, and I've barely even touched you," He teased, grabbing his cock in his hand and rubbing it up and down her slick cunt, appreciating the hot wet heat as his cock started to drool precum and he teased her hole. "If you like this slut, then you're going to love what comes next."

"Look, please, just stop, let's talk about this, let's-- Ohhhhhh, fuck," Octavia hissed, as the first couple inches sank sink into her tight little hole. "I don't want this. I don't even really fuck guys anymore..." she murmured as John slowly pushed deeper inside of her. Her words told one story, but her body was telling him something very different. This was the fulfillment of all the fantasies she'd so carelessly shared with strangers. How could you fight against something you wanted so badly?

"Mmmmm," John moaned softly as he slowly sank all six and half inches of his thick cock deep inside his little internet whore. He leaned over her, supporting himself on his elbows so that his face was just above hers in the dark bedroom. "So, few things in life are worth waiting for. I'm glad your pussy was one of them, Octavia." He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her head trying to do anything to avoid making her defilement feel even better.

"That's fine slut," John said, taking a moment to attack her neck with his teeth lightly instead of kissing her. "You don't have to enjoy this. This isn't about you or your pleasure. This is about me and how long I've wanted to put this pussy in its place." John flexed his hips, pressing all the way into her, and pushing against her cervix, sending a jolt of pain through his whore that made her buck and squirm, before he slowly started to slide out. "For months you've had your own private fan club threatening or begging to do what I'm doing to you right now, and now I finally get to see just how good it really is."

John slid his cock out of her inch by inch until only the head was still inside of her hot little hole, trying to give Octavia some hope that he might just pull out now that he'd made his point. He quickly disappointed her though, as he started to thrust back in a little quicker than last time. This time he didn't stop at the bottom and started pulling back out immediately before thrusting in again. He was fucking her, and she couldn't do anything about it.

For perhaps half a minute the only sound in the room were the wet slurping noises of her traitor pussy being used by a stranger's cock. Octavia maintained her stubborn silence even though her heavier breathing and slowly relaxing thighs made it clear she was obviously starting to enjoy this. But John could see how much she squirmed when he bit and kissed her neck and shoulder. He could see just how close she was to giving in, so he reached down and twisted her right nipple hard, finally succeeding in tearing a throaty moan from her poor little body.

"So that's it, is it cunt?" John asked rhetorically, "You're not just a rapewhore, you really are a painslut too, aren't you? She'd bragged about it online along with everything else when she was showing off her sexy, sensuous body, but in his experience most cunts talked a big game. They wanted a lot of theatrics and threats, but just a little spanking. He could count the number of women he'd been with that really craved being hurt on one hand. Apparently, he'd have to add Octavia to the list.

John let go of her nipple and grabbed the whole breast, twisting it painfully while he continued his steady rhythm with his hips. The reaction was electric, as her entire body arced to try to escape the pain. She opened her mouth, but before she could moan or scream John silenced her with a kiss, shoving his tongue deep inside to wrestle with hers. And in between the taboo pleasure of fucking and the electric ecstasy of pain she finally started to kiss John back. And for a few frantic minutes that's all there was in the world. Just a man fucking a bound woman hard and deep with the occasional jolt of pain while she was lost in the maelstrom of pleasure assaulting her.