One minute she was hitchhiking and the next she woke up in a dark basement without a clue where she was or how she got there. Her hands were tied tightly behind her back. Her legs were also bound, making her unable to move. She was gagged and had duct tape over her mouth. She tried to cry out for help, but she couldn’t make a sound, then, suddenly, the lights flickered on.
A masked man holding a knife approached her. She struggled in fear, trying to get away. He lifted her shirt, revealing her bare breasts, nipples hard from the chill of the basement. He pinched them hard, rubbing and kneading them to her confusion. Her tits were perky and round, so perfect.
Once he was done playing with her tits, he took the knife and used it to tear off the shirt. She squealed in terror when the knife came close, closing her eyes tight. The man remain calm while he did his work. Next he picked her up off the seat she had been placed on and laid her on her stomach with her face pressed against the hard concrete floor. He used the knife to rip open her jeans, tearing open the backside of the pants so he could get to her panties.
Her ass was plump but firm, fitting her toned, young body. He slapped her ass hard a few times before getting back to work. He ripped off the panties, revealing her tight ass and the curve of her pussy. He slid his fingers lightly over her pussy, feeling her smooth, pink skin. The girl was shaking in fear, trying not to think about how her body was being fondled. Her eyes widened suddenly when she heard the sound of jeans being unzipped. He was going to do more than just fondle her.
He came to Europe for vacation, his plans filled with skiing and partying and all kinds of fun. What he wasn’t prepared for was to be kidnapped. But this was no Taken movie. He woke up in what looked like a real life dungeon. He was tied up and unable to move, a gag in his mouth. He noticed that his ass was sore and he felt weird. He looked down and saw a strange machine underneath him.
He sat with a black, cylinder shaped machine underneath him. It was making a loud whirring sound. He could feel the vibrator inside of his ass on the highest setting, vibrating and rotating over his prostate. The machine also had a vibrator were his balls sat. His cock was rock hard, but didn’t get any sensations other than the vibrations that flowed up from his balls. He whimpered, stuck between fear, pleasure and confusion.
After a little while, right when he was about to lose his mind from being unable to cum, two hot blond women walked in. They were naked except for high heels and had the hottest bodies he had ever seen. They ignored him like he was just a piece of furniture, talking in a language he didn’t understand. He tied to call out to them for help, but the gag muffled his voice.
Then he heard another muffled voice and more machine whirring coming from behind a curtain that separated the room. He looked over but could see nothing but the shadows of the two women standing over a table. He could make out a human shape, what sounded like a man whimpering and moaning. The whirring sound got louder when one of the women flicked a switch, the man got louder too. The two girls cooed and giggled at him, rubbing all over his shaking body.
As he watched the women and the stranger, he couldn’t ignore his own situation. His cock was dripping with precum, harder than he had ever been in his life. If only he could press it against the vibrator or rub it against something or anything. The vibrator inside of his ass was still rotating relentlessly, rubbing his prostate and abusing his virgin ass. He never knew that ass play could feel so good. If he was in a different place at a different time, he would appreciate it more.
After what felt like forever, he heard a muffled scream, the two girls moaning with laughter, then the whirring stopped. The man behind the curtain got quiet, still quivering and whimpering softly.
The two girls came out from behind the curtain. They bodies were suddenly covered with cum that could have only come from the screaming man. They spoke to him in their language, smirking playfully at him. He shook his head, unsure what these two hot women would do to him.
“Time to play, big boy.” The one with pigtails said in his language finally, turning a knob. He moaned loudly, the vibrations getting impossibly faster and more intense. He felt like he was going to pass out, it felt so good. The two women laughed at him, rubbing his body all over but ignoring his cock.
Contemplating getting a hotel room one of these days. I’d leave the door unlocked so Daddy could sneak in after I’ve “fallen asleep” face down on the bed (at a predetermined time). Then he would pull the sheets down to find me wearing no panties, just thigh high socks and a t shirt. Daddy would gently spread my legs apart and start stroking my pussy, making it nice and wet. He’d turn me over, he’d pull his cock out and softly rub it against my mouth. I would still be sound asleep. Daddy would slide his hard cock between my pussy lips and push himself deep inside my dripping wet little pussy. But daddy didn’t know that I fell asleep with a full bladder. With each thrust into my pussy, I would leak some hot pee onto daddy’s cock, slowly soaking the bed as daddy fucks his sleeping girl. As daddy gets close he would pull out and get his cock real close to baby’s face, and jerk off until he sprayed his hot sticky load of cum all over baby’s face and mouth. He’d give baby’s pussy a goodnight kiss, then leave the room, locking the door behind him.
Lest you been concerned that, after a date with Boy Genius where he was super nice to me and then a date with sub-leaning switch Puppy, I might be getting silly ideas about being equal to men or think that what I want matters, I thought I’d share the story of the orgasm after I had my first date with Puppy.
Due to…partner issues, Marxman and I hadn’t been playing for a little while. We’ve still been talking, though, and on Friday night after my date with Puppy, we started Skyping. I told him about my night and cleaned up my living room. When I finished cleaning, we started just talking. I was being obnoxious/annoying in a way that, had we been playing, I would have described as “bratty.” Normally I don’t do that, since I like being a good girl and don’t want punishments, but I figured there wasn’t anything he could do, so I kept going, talking negatively about men, even though they’re clearly my superiors, being stubborn with him, disagreeing in silly ways, teasing him about me being obedient, etc.
At one point, I was emptying my suitcase from when I visited my owner, and I took out a paddle. I think I was teasing hitting myself with it, and he told me, with a bit of that voice, to hit myself on the ass with it. I balked and danced around for a bit, but I’d wanted to do it in the first place (hence the showing it to him), so I whacked myself a few times. It had seemed a bit like playing, but I wasn’t going to tell him what he could and couldn’t do, especially since he’d been able to do more and more things after conversations with his partner.
I went into the bathroom and we started talking about the punishment The Fascist had threatened, which was to lick the inside of the toilet while masturbating. I commented that it was super gross and I definitely didn’t want to do it. Marxman said he’d like to see it if I did, and I jokingly offered to lick the outside for him, since I had no intention of getting punished. He took me up on it, and I licked the outside of my toilet, in a headspace of being amused, not submissive. Then he told me to lick the seat. I laughed and said, “Dude. You can’t play and I’m not in subspace.” “Do you want to be in subspace?,” he asked. My response was immediate, “Always.”
His voice changed and there was a noticeable shift in the dynamic between us. “Lick the seat all the way around three times,” he commanded. I whimpered, but complied. Once, twice, three times I ran my tongue around the toilet seat. When I was done, I sat back on my heels and looked at him, feeling fuzzy and subby, my cunt hot. I waited to see what he would say next. He looked at me and said calmly, “In case you couldn’t tell, [my partner] texted.”
I shivered in a combination of arousal and nervousness. I’m very happy to have him back and able to play. He knows how to treat me, we have pretty compatible kinks, and he’s got an awesome voice and enjoys using it to help me get off. That night, despite my bratty behavior, he was kind enough to use it that way.
I spread my legs and moved the camera so he could see me holding the vibe on my clit. He started to talk to me about an ongoing shared fantasy in which he holds me down and fucks my cunt, cumming in me while I struggle and beg him not to. I told him, a bit impishly, “I wouldn’t let you cum in me.” That just made him laugh. He’s decided he wants to do it, and nothing I say or do is going to stop him, if he gets the chance. He commented about how much bigger he is than I am, about twice my size. It would be nothing for him to hold me down and do whatever he wanted to me.
He pointed out how it would be especially great to cum in me against my will because I’m not on birth control, so I’d actually be risking pregnancy. He described filling my cunt with cum and sending me out to get EC with it dripping down my leg. He talked about taking it away from me. He said he’d cum in me many times before he’d let me use it. If he let me use it.
I begged him not to cum in me, offered him anything he wanted, tieed to reason with him. None of it changed the inevitable, although he did enjoy my pathetic attempts and whimpers. Eventually, he told me, “Tell me you want it.” I shuddered and moaned out, “Please cum in me. I want you to cum in my cunt. Fill me. I need to feel you cum inside me. I want to feel it dripping down my leg. I want you to be the first person to cum in me.” He continued talking about overpowering me and using my hole and just ignoring everything I want just for his own pleasure.
A few moments later, I had an explosive, mindblowing orgasm, thinking about him forcing me to get off at the same time he was emptying himself into me, looking into his eyes, listening to him mock me for cumming as I’m being violated like that. This orgasm was fucking ridiculous. Besides feeling like I’d gone out and being unable to move, I almost pulled a Ted Mosby on this guy I’ve known for a few weeks, no joke. Fucking neurotransmitters. It was goddamn fantastic.
What a pathetic, stupid, horny little bitch I am to have that reaction to thinking about having my unprotected cunt raped and risking being impregnated against my will, to begging to have that happen, to the idea of being taunted as it happened. The worst part is, I really don’t want it. That’s the point. I want him to know what I want and decide to ignore it because it just doesn’t matter to him.
I now have a fantasy that is all but guaranteed to give me a strong, high quality orgasm. Of course, it’s fucked up, and I’m a dumb cunt for wanting it to come true.
The idea of a man or, preferably, men, beating me, tossing me around, raping me, and then cumming in me while I beg them not to has been getting me off like crazy. I want them to fuck my cunt, no condom, not caring that I’m not on birth control. To slap me around and choke me. To tell me they don’t care about my begging, that what I want doesn’t matter. That they know my preferences, listened to me talk about them, understand them, and are now just fucking ignoring them.
I want them to laugh at my tears, my attempts to bargain, and especially at my shouts of “Red!”, as if they give a fuck about my little safeword. I want to hear them talk to me about filling my cunt with their cum, about how they’re going to use me over the next 48 hours, and tell me that if I’m good, maybe they’ll let me have EC. Maybe.
I want to be forced to cum as they pound my unprotected hole, to hear them laugh and tell me how pathetic I am for getting off on being violated so intimately, on being marked like this, on having every part of me taken away from my control and used for their pleasure. I want them to force me to look into their eyes as they empty themselves into me.
I want it all recorded on video. I want them to use my hole again while they make me watch my face as I stop fighting back physically within the first few minutes, realizing how futile that is. Then to see myself just give up, see the fight go out of my eyes. To see where I accept that this is going to happen and simply sob quietly as I’m used like the cumrag I am.
And then, maybe not the first time, maybe not the second time, but eventually, I’ll stop resisting. I’ll even stop accepting. I’ll start craving it, start asking for it. I’ll beg them to fill me, leave me with cum dripping down my leg. I’ll fuck them back, moaning as I think about the risk and imagine the shame of getting pregnant from this, shuddering as I think about how I’m just a cumdump, a set of holes for them to use. They don’t give a fuck what I want. I couldn’t stop them, even if I tried. This was going to happen from the moment they decided they wanted to do it.
When they finally decide they’re done with me, I imagine them buying EC and taunting me with it. Making me humiliate and degrade myself further, desperately trying to earn it from them. When they finally give me the pills, it will be far too late to be anywhere near as effective as I need them to be. Then, to drive home the extreme violation and the ownership that they, not I, have over my body, when I find myself pregnant, they’ll force me to get an abortion.
Maybe they’ll accompany me to the clinic, and whisper in my ear in the waiting room. Other people will think they’re being reassuring, but they’ll actually be telling me how I asked for this, how I’m a stupid cunt for being in this situation. They’ll be describing what they did to me, making me relive it. And they’ll know how wet I’m getting, imagining what happened that led me to be sitting there, waiting to be called in.
Or maybe they’ll be even more cruel. Organize a protest on the day of my appointment, forcing me to walk past angry, shouting people who call me a murderer and a whore. I’ll have to sit in the clinic with other upset women, and I’ll know it’s my fault that those protesters are out there.
Of course, they aren’t monsters. They’ll be there to take me home afterwards. And then they’ll do it all over again.
As a warning, this article may contain trigger words.
So much of D/s can be boiled down to a loss of control, mostly willing, of the submissive, and the power of the Dominant over them. It’s about exerting one will over another, being the tool of that will and thriving off the attention and feeling that being that channel provides. It’s a powerful feeling for both sides, something cathartic and primal, and there’s little wonder it’s so incredibly alluring for those willing to take the step into the world.
It’s understandable, then, that it’s relatively common to find that people interested in D/s also have rape fantasies. Perhaps, even, have engaged in roleplaying out a rape scene in the past. Of all the kinks out there, it’s perhaps perceived as one of the most potentially dangerous, not least because a scene can go wrong where the idea of ignoring a ‘no’ is part and parcel. But then that’s what safe words are for.
I’ve had a considerable amount of rape fantasies in the past. Coercing a woman, and ignoring reluctance, is a pretty powerful idea to me, and while it’s incredibly arousing, there’s also a tinge of guilt in there. Rape is morally reprehensible, of course it is, and so to have these fantasies carries with it a pretty hefty moral weight.
To provide some context; I saw the film Tyrannosaur last night, and it features an extremely uncomfortable and powerful rape scene in it. (If you haven’t already, do go see it, Peter Mullan is incredible, and Olivia Colman is astonishing.) It started me thinking, assessing myself and why I find this idea attractive, and whether that’s ok.
Surveys have shown that upwards of 45% of women have rape fantasies. Considering the social shame and perception to having a fantasy like that, I’d imagine the figure could be considerably higher. It’s not an abnormal thing to experience. I’ve met my fair share of women who cite it as their deepest, most shameful kink, and others who revel in the idea of it. It’s not, however, an abnormal thing to hear pass the lips of someone when talking about what turns them on.
However, almost all of them qualify it by saying they have zero interest in being actually raped. Who would? By definition rape is an unwanted sexual act, whereas these fantasies play with the idea of non-consent, rather than the actuality of it. That’s why they’re fantasies. That’s why they’re alluring. We’re able to, in our minds, create a scenario that’s mentally and practically impossible. It’s a paradox, and yet it allows us to enjoy it all the same.
I feel I’m starting to circle myself, winding down the drain, so I’ll attempt to properly wrap this up without losing the thread. After a 24 hour period of thinking about it, I’m not about to beat myself up about having these ideas, or start to get concerned that this is something that causes me to stir. It’s a power trip, in the purest sense of the word, and so long as it’s something that I understand and control, I can’t see it being a problem.
And I don’t think it’s any more or less dangerous from the other side of the fantasy. It’s not something to be ashamed of, by any means, any more than a sudden compulsion to eat ice cream, or go out and buy shoes is something to be ashamed of. It might not be an entirely positive thing, but I don’t think it’s particularly negative either. And, in the right circumstances, and context, and setting, realising a rape fantasy with someone you trust can be a huge amount of fun.
