 |
|||
|
|
CYNTHIA’S NIGHTMARE FANTASY
The sun set nearly an hour ago. Cynthia pushed the button on the front of her computer and sat down. For the most part Cynthia loved the solitude of her daily life, quiet simple days at the office, a few dates every now and then... not that she couldn’t make time for more attention. It just seldom came her way, and she felt little need to pursue additional attentions. Cynthia did little by way of night life, no bars or clubs... a movie now and then usually with the girls and once in a while with one of several men she knew . She was fun to be with, at least her friends thought so, and she was pretty enough. Cynthia seldom did little to accentuation her natural feminine features, never wearing much makeup, seldom wearing form fitting clothes, and never giggling boobs with well define nipples protruding from beneath... a bit of tissue kept the ‘head-lights’ out of sight. Cynthia figured that given a chance men saw a woman’s sex and not the persona.... she refused encourage such events in her life. Some times the nights grew long and the solitude grew into loneliness.
On these night Cynthia plodded thru her e-mails from friends, acquaintances, and relatives. Occasionally she ventured into adult sights, after all she wasn’t a prude and she was an adult... with a woman’s desires... passions, fantasies... and hopes for someday. These sites rarely intrigued and never satisfied, but boredom found her there tonight. One time Cynthia struggled through the embarrassment and bought a few battery toys to keep her company. They had proven fun and while satisfying though not as much fun as a man, they did prove convenient.
Cynthia followed the odd trail of sites.... here.... there... kinky... not kinky... She happened upon several flickering odd screens about alternate life styles, dating but not “Dates”. She read thru some of the odd profiles. These women, all of these women wanted something... to be the guest of honor at someone’s gang bang... tied up to her bed posts and flogged... hot waxed... one even wanted to watch someone’s dogs for the weekend, promising to spend the weekend naked engaging in sex acts... their was a link to a rape sight. Yeah, right! What kind of a woman would ask to be raped? She clicked on the link... just to see who really might respond to such a thing... were these women real or staged?
“Want to be raped?”
“Safe Rape.”
“Real men will PAY real money to fulfill your fantasies.”
BULL SHIT!! I call bull shit!!
She clicked on the absurd site. The screen sputtered then loaded. It was simple enough. Women joined for free... yeah, right... sure thing... Men had to fill out a profile, a verifiable profile... for the safety of the women involved. Each man had to post a bond of a sort, five hundred dollars, partially refundable when the female participant signed off, first on her safety and secondly on the completion of her fantasy. And should the woman fail to sign her completion certificate an independent verification, if requested, would satisfy the agreement.
The women’s part was simple enough. She had to post a fantasy, partial, styled, or topical... anything to indicate the nature of what she wanted. Then she had to sign a legal release. Allowing the men to freely execute her rape fantasy without fear of legal reprisal. In other words... yes would mean yes even if the fought wildly screaming NO at the top of her lungs. No would not mean no, period, without legal recourse, because she had signed a request and release document holding him ‘blameless’. And lastly, she could not change her mind once the posting was consummated. The posting was then open to bid on the site. Pictures were encouraged, though not required. And the woman was paid 50% of the bid upon posting her certificate of completion.
Cynthia watched the open bidding. A cute blond, mid thirties, with a fantasy of being raped at the office after hours... the bid was running between three men... upwards of $1500... the screen paused... $1575... Bidding done. Contract issued. The screen flashed in big bold letters.... ENJOY YOUR RAPE... across her picture with the final bid amount posted at the bottom of the woman’s photo.
She watched another screen. A brunette, not as cute, in her late thirties or early forties... she wanted to be assaulted in her apartment, tied up and left naked on the balcony. The bids were running at $700+. Cynthia watched intently. The bidding stopped at $825. The screen flashed... the bid posted below her photo and the bold ENJOY YOUR RAPE pasted across her picture.
Another woman, brunette with glasses and a warm smile, wanted to be tied to a post, publically displayed, and raped by several different men. She boasted a 37-25-34 figure with a clean laser shaved pussy. The bidding was wild at $1700 and running... five groups of men bid her to just over $2025 and the bidding closed. Her picture flashed it banner.
Cynthia read a few of the posted reviews.
“Nearly two months passed before my fantasy was fulfilled. My questionnaire proved revealing to my attackers. He planned and executed my rape perfectly. I was terrified. I felt raped. And there is nothing I can do about it, nor can I undo it. I was raped!”
“I never believed this would happen. I thought I would be expecting it, the rush and excitement. I was violated and raped... exactly to my fantasy. Not for the faint of heart to be sure, but something I will do again... next month, maybe, if I can muster the courage. LOL”
“I thought I had been forgotten, that this site was just another crap site. It was perfect! They followed the outline of my fantasy to the letter. I would never do this again, maybe something a bit different, but not another gang rape... because I was gang-raped. It was perfect... and yet reality is truly horrifying!”
Cynthia book-marked the page closing the computer. She felt a strong need to find her battery operated friend.
*****
Maybe it’s the idea of being not responsible for something, maybe it’s the lack of control of the situation, it’s definitely NOT the violence of the event that attracted Cynthia. She mused about being held down... used... not responsible for the sex... free to enjoy herself... free of guilt or moral condemnations... And she was not without the dark side of fantasy. We all have those thoughts, kinky, sultry, things we don’t talk about even to ourselves, embarrassing dark thoughts that burn wildly with passion completely void of rightness or social acceptance.
Cynthia buzzed at her clit, slipping off only to bury the dildo deep inside passing slowly against her ‘G’ spot. She lit the darkness as he took her... she struggled... the dildo caught her clit. She gasped, “Yes!” Her tummy muscle caught. She jerked, contracted and came calling loudly, “fuck my pussy... yes... do me...”
As the dildo buzzed on Cynthia decided she would sign up to be raped... it was just a matter of time before fantasy would dull reality creating the false sense of courage it would take. And she imagined would take more than a little bit of courage.
Cynthia smiled as the camera flashed. She sat on the bed, her legs together to the camera side. She had been working on the right picture for two weeks... at first the make up didn’t take with the lighting in her room. Then the angle of the camera made her butt look huge. She took many pictures experimenting with her digital camera. Finally, she had the right angle, lighting, hair do, make up and composition. She sat nude. Her 36-27-37 figure showed well. She adorned her bosoms with a simple gold star allowing her nipples to rise firmly thru the center. A simple gold chain attached one nipple to the other. She drew a breath to minimize the imperfections of her tummy. She smiled. The camera flashed. She scampered over to the camera’s screen. Damn. Her posture was too slouchy. She pushed the timer button quickly settling onto the bed. Flash. This one was good enough. And that was all the courage Cynthia could muster for the moment. It was the second step in her rape. Her heart beat fiercely.
It took another month for Cynthia to log onto the web site. This time she down loaded the questionnaire:
In private? Publically Displayed
“You will need to prepare a written notice to be sent to your employer
regarding your absence... and another to be left for friends or relatives
in order to avert panic and/or police intervention. We discourage physical abuse
By our participants, but can not prevent it nor guarantee none will occur.
Offenders will not be allowed future participation... so report it to our website at once! You must upload a picture to assure the safety of others. Posting the picture will increase your value at auction. Once posted and bid... you will be raped. Return this to our website to continue.”
It was simple. Cynthia hit the save button. She did not have the strength to send it... not ye anyway. Her hands shook. Cynthia shivered. She felt clammy all over... cold. Her nipples hard, her pussy wet, her heart raced and pounded wildly. Cynthia got up and left the house. She could not sit still, nor could she face her own desires, now to real to ignore and quickly overwhelming her.
The night air felt good... it did not help to calm her mind... she walk briskly... Cynthia found herself at the gym... two hours of running served only to make her legs weak... nothing settled her mind. She walked back the her apartment... scooted the mouse... the screen lit. She sat down. Clicked the web site... and posted her picture, then her questionnaire. She wretched at the center of her being then stagged to the bathroom and threw up. Cynthia took a hot shower. Wrapped herself in a towel she sat at the computer.
“Are you sure?” Flashed on the screen.
“NO!” She screamed aloud throwing her hands in the air. “Why can’t you just accept this without questions!” She pointed the mouse at yes... stood paced about for ten minutes... then clicked, yes.
Her picture posted. She look good and very naked. Cynthia blushed. A caption appeared below her picture... “bidding begins at $1000... on Tuesday.” Today was Friday.
“Damn.!” She squealed, and dressed for bed finding her battery friend.
Tuesday night came slowly. Cynthia logged on... She was already posted! $2250 closed the bid... closed by several players. ENJOY YOUR RAPE. Flashed across her face. An email waited.
“Cynthia, Thank you for your application. Your RAPE will happen so prepare yourself in whatever manner you need... you will not know when or where or by whom.... your accomplice has three month to complete your request. Please remember to confirm your RAPE after it is done. Thank you.”
Cynthia panicked! NO, She really didn’t want to be RAPED! Not now, not today... not tomorrow... Cynthia panicked. Her heart beat wildly. Her hands clammy and sweaty. Her stomach cramped, wretched. She felt sick as panic set in wildly overwhelming her. NO, she spoke aloud. She punched reply and scribbled quickly.
The screen showed a reply.
“Money has been paid. You WILL be RAPED, as you requested.... we suggest you prepare your self.”
The first month was filled with panic. Cynthia supposed that was why they waited. She jumped at every sound, fled from every shadow, and avoided with obvious compulsion being alone. Everyone thought she was nuts! Slowly, very slowly, the fears dimmed.
At the end of the second month she simply considered the whole thing some internet joke. She felt a twinge of disappointment... and a great deal of relief. The original idea, the fantasy of the idea, being non-real, had seemed a thrill, some kind of odd adventure. The adrenaline rush of being posted and bid had been quite enough though. The reality of being somehow assaulted by some strange man or a group of strange men... having her sex assaulted, not tenderly appreciated weighed with panic upon her mind. She had been diligent in trying to avoid it all together. Cynthia had never re-visited the site, though she had not deleted it either, as though somehow denying it would in time proved prophetic to her safety.
Time passed quietly. An uneasy piece set in about her routine. Cynthia gave less and less thought to what she had posted.
It was just after sunset. Peaceful, beautiful, and unnoticed when she felt the impact in her left shoulder. Two small dart found her soft flesh. The current knocked her to the pavement before she could scream. A dark van appear along beside her body. The door opened. Two men tossed her inside. Cynthia’s limbs shook uncontrollably. She mumbled. Her mind was overpowered by the shock of the moment more than the current from the stun gun.
Someone gave her a pill to swallow, covered her nose... she gasped and swallowed the pill. In another thirty second she lay completely naked on the hard metal floor of the van. She felt groggy. Her mind felt foggy, but she could see, feel, and hear. Cynthia could not move so much as a finger. The van stopped, waited, and pulled forward, and stopped.
One of the men slipped her arm from the sweater she was wearing, then the other arm. Cynthia struggled but could not move. Words formed in her mind begging them to stop, but nothing came out of her mouth. One of them unbuttoned her blouse while another took of her shoes. Gently he took her arms out of her blouse removing it too. The other took off her socks tucking them into her shoes. A tear trickled down the side of her cheek as someone unbuttoned her pants. The zipper slipped downward slowly. Cynthia could hear every click of each tooth in her mind. Unspoken words begged as her pants slipped from her legs. The rolled her over to her tummy unbuttoned her bra and slipped the shoulder straps forward. Then they rolled her onto her back. Cynthia’s breasts slipped free of the bra. He took it from about her body. The other man slipped her panties from about her bottom, down her legs and off. With a gentle buzzing someone began to shave her pubic areas.
Her naked body was carried from the van. She was placed upon the cold concrete floor. She shivered as a genuine chill ran through her shoulders. A crate was produced from nowhere. It was no larger than 3 ft by 3ft by 3 ft. Two men placed her inside holding her upright. She sat on her bare bottom with her feet drawn up next to her chest. Carefully the men began fitting blue foam insulation about her body. The 2 inch foam was quickly carved to the shape of her body... one underneath and each subsequent piece shaped to the area it encircled... little by little she disappeared into a crate of blue. Her head and nostrils were left with enough room to avail herself of the air holes about the crate. The sounds of screws being tightened alarmed her. Panic raced through her mind as the darkness of the crate engulfed her. She would have screamed had she had the ability... but she could not, and did not. Cynthia simply sat quietly in her crate, naked and scared. In an instant she had been stripped naked, encased, crated, and readied for shipping. Carefully they lifted the crate with a fork lift placing it quietly at the edge of the dock.
They left Cynthia. Her mind had cleared of the drugged fog. Cloudy mental images and panic remained. She could not move nor speak. The pill worked well. In an hour she was placed into an out of town shipping line’s trailer, headed to who knew where. The idea of her fantasy rape never ever crossed her mind... and if she could, no, when she could she was going to scream bloody murder to anyone that would hear. No one would, but she could not know that now. Cynthia began to know real panic!
The truck rumble on all night. Cynthia dozed in the stillness. The truck bumped to a noisy stop. Cynthia screamed. No one came. She screamed again. Nothing. The truck seemed empty... not moving... what was going on... where was she...and what was going to happen to her? The doors opened. The crated was lifted by a forklift, it tilted a bit and bumped. Fear and panic swept thru Cynthia. She felt her box bump, skid, slide, and jolt into the bed of a pick up. She screamed.
“Not yet Missy. Save that for later, much later... you’ll need all the fight you’ve got.”
“See you tonight.” Another voice called out. The pick-ups engine caught at the first turn of the key. Cynthia bumped along the road in the back of a pick-up... Lord knows where... crated mind you. Finally from the back corners of a drugged mind the idea of her fantasy rape crawled into consciousness. Could this be? Yes. It must be... or she was in worse trouble than she could imagine... but then maybe she was in ‘worse trouble’ anyway.
The top of the crate came loose. The sun was far to bright. Cynthia squinted but could not focus in the bright light of day. Someone offered her water. She accepted without hesitation gulping as they poured water into her mouth and down her chin.
“Damn you.” Cynthia stuttered as the drug took effect. She slumped unable to move her limbs and barely able to slur a word. She was un-crated. One man slipped her body upon his shoulder carrying her into the back of the building. He placed her limp form upon the table. Cynthia felt someone place an O ring into her mouth and strap it securely at the back of her head. She was eased onto her back where her pussy was shaved smooth. She was given a quick enema. Another man carefully poured more water into her mouth. She swallowed, partly out of self-defense and partly because she was in fact thirsty. It was cool, refreshing and drugged.
Cynthia was placed over a ‘tee’ post... a flat 2x4 fastened over the top of a 4x4 at either end. The ‘tee’ post protruded upwards from a small stage on wheels. Next she was wheeled to a wall, face first. Her head was placed into a wooden collar, locked securely about her neck. This wooden collar was then placed into the wall in front of her... protruding her head into another room. Two piece of finished wall were quickly screwed about the collar. With matching trim boards over the seams no trace of the opening remained. Tape was wrapped about each hand creating nothing more that two unusable balls at the ends of her arms. Her wrists were strapped firmly into wrists stocks on either side of her head... and inside the wall. A simple 2x6 under her torso gave ease to any strain on her back. Her breasts hung freely at either side of the board. Another bit of finished wall was attached on the bodice side of Cynthia encasing her neck and wrists stocks inside the wall. Only Cynthia’s body remained on the portable stage.
Time passed. No one touch Cynthia. A few voices now and again, mostly distant brought reality to her drugged mind. The drugs passed... time crawled by... Cynthia stood because she was constrained and supported and not because of muscular actions of her own. Slowly she began to feel... movement began to creep across her being... her mind though clouded in fog began to address her realities.
At the other side of the wall Cynthia’s head appeared like a mounted trophy on the wall of some over achieving testosterone driven redneck hunter... only much lower on his trophy wall... in fact her head was almost adjacent to a sink... a bit lower... Cynthia looked about while supporting herself by her hands cuffed to the stocks inside of the wall to which she was mounted, moving mostly her eyes because her head was relative fixed into the wall by the stock fitted firmly and securely about her neck. She was at the same level of.... no!... a urinal! A porcelain dribble bowl a few inches below her chin... and a hand blow dryer above her head. She was mounted to the men’s bathroom wall!! Cynthia could not see the sign above her head:
I’LL BLOW YOU DRY
A small contribution jar was screw to the wall next to the sign.
TIPS WELCOME... NOT REQUIRED
She would have been humiliated... at the moment she felt horrified at her situation... the idea behind the ‘O’ ring in her mouth had not yet set into her drugged mind. A flash brought her back to the real world... a picture appeared on the small digital screen in front of her... Cynthia saw her head mounted the wall... the sign above her head. She shook her head as much as possible and wailed an imperceptible NO......... She tugged and struggled to free her head from the wall. Nothing. This was not possible! How could anyone expect her to give blow-jobs to anyone with a dick in the mens room of someplace, somewhere, in who knew where. Her mouth would not close. It began to dawn on her that mounted to the wall with her mouth opened she was simply a receptacle with a tongue... and she would be used... and soon. She struggled again. Tears stained her cheeks. She sagged a bit resolved to the situation... she could not even bite an unwelcome intruder... Cynthia could only gag, swallow, or drool, but refusing a stiff cock was not an option to her in this mens room. She was little more than the sink and hand dryer attached to the wall about her... a service for use in the men’s bathroom.
Her feet, at the other side of the wall were locked into shackles keeping her legs virtually useless. Cynthia’s thighs were strapped to a post supporting the horizontal support over which she was bent. Her bottom... and her sex were completely exposed. A tens pad was placed at the side of each labia... and two small metal shrouds glued to her nipples. Fine metal wires ran from each shroud into the tens machine. A sign above Cynthia’s shoulders foretold the night before her.
$5 DOLLARS BUYS FIVE MINUTES OF WAILING...
$30 DOLLARS BUYS FIVE MINUTES OF GRUNTING...
MAKE HER CUM AND GET A 50% INSTANT REBATE!!
SIGN UP... GET IN...
The camera flashed several times from different angles. Four or five good photos were taken of Cynthia’s torso and bottom protruding from the wall. There were a number of permanent markers to reinforce the message. She stood just right of the stage where the band would be playing within the hour. There was no cover, not from a juke box, a table top, or any piece of furnishing. She stood upon to the dance floor, exposed and ready to service all patrons of the night. These photographs were shown to Cynthia before being posted on the wall of fame. She wept quietly as she looked at the tiny screen before her.
Well, Cynthia was on display!! And to be sure she would get used tonight!! The drugs were fully worn off an hour after the doors opened... round about 7-ish... It was Saturday night. Jake usually had someone or another stuck to the wall.
At times he used locals who owed him something. Often he paid a fee to some pimp across the county line... but tonight he was trying out new meat found on the internet. Some woman who wanted to be abducted, exploited, exposed, used - no, not used, raped by several men. He and several of his friends who fancied the oddity of the site had paid handsomely to use her tonight.
The band, country, was really pretty good. A woman smiled dropping a five into the ‘contributions’ barrel at Cynthia’s side. Joyce picked up a marker and signed her name upon Cynthia’s back. She switched the tens timer to five minutes and walked to her seat only a few feet away. Before Cynthia could appreciate the music her nipples caught fire. She screamed into an empty bathroom. First her nipples burned, then pulsed... then the labia found pulsing stimulation. Her pussy flushed from the stimulation. Cynthia resented the involuntary responses of her body. She felt ready to cum... when...
A man came into the bathroom. He took a moment to relieve himself... washed his hands thoroughly... then stepped to Cynthia and the hand dryer. She screamed, and choked as his cock slipped thru the ‘O’ ring and into the back of her throat. The pads at her labia pulsed as the tens passed current thru her pussy. She tried to jump, dance about, anything to relieve the stimulation at her twat. She stood anchored securely to the stage. Cynthia choked on the cock as she tried to scream at the wild pulsing violating her pussy and nipples. He came... she gagged... the ‘tens’ stopped... He came in her mouth not the back of her throat. She expelled his cum with her tongue... it dribbled from her chin... and into the bowl beneath her. He dried his cock with a paper towel before putting it away.
“See you at the other end, Missy.” He walked away. The tens stopped.
Cynthia felt a marker at her butt cheek. A cock pressed upon her anus. Slowly she felt her virgin bottom widen as Cynthia became butt-fucked. It hurt, she hurt, she felt trapped, violated, trapped, and used... raped! Her butt would see most of the action tonight. A few men attempted to fuck her pussy. It was hot, wet, and waiting... while they fumbled about very little stimulation found Cynthia’s clit. She did cum several times with the tens. Names scrawled across her back, shoulders and bottom as patron after patron indulged themselves with her body. The cheers reaching her ears as her pussy convulsed added to her sense of humiliation. She came, gagged, and cried throughout the night.
Cynthia’s mouth found more use than she could have ever imagined.... the horrible night flew passed. It seemed that either one end or the other was in action all the time. 2 AM seemed an eternity. Contributions filled the barrel and the jar. It would nearly pay for the cost of her bidding... and with the rise in liquor sales... they made enough money to make the fussing worthy of the doing. Quiet Cynthia was a wall mounted fuck machine for the night... a very very long night.
Cynthia’s emotions collapsed early that night. After the horror of her situation completed its rampage thru her mind, the horrors of her reality, cocks gagging her while some unknown cock butt-fucked her body over powered her mind. Cynthia gave up and accepted the pummeling. She had felt exposed and humiliated at the pictures given her... her ass, her smooth shaved pussy attached to the wall at the side of the dance floor. Exposed to everyone there... to their laughter, ridicule, use and abuse. She sobbed until her sides ached. Horrible reality abruptly interrupted her sobbing with the first of uncounted cocks had slipping into her bottom... her pussy shocked to multiple involuntary orgasms... Cynthia gagged as uncounted cocks bumped the back of her throat.
Only a few minutes here and there found her body vacated of stimulation or violation allowing her to sobbed, struggle or be-moan her plight. Cynthia cursed her decision... yes, she was being raped... and sodomized... exposed.... humiliated... all things she had requested. Surprisingly she did not feel or sense danger, but she did know rape! She wept again... then another cock slipped pasted the ‘O’ ring banging into the back of her throat... she gagged... he pummeled... he came thrusting deep into her throat... she swallowed defensively, involuntarily. Her tummy wretched... the after tasted was revolting... her tummy soured. She must have swallowed half a quart of cum. She wretched at the thought. The tens lit up her labia and nipples... And so it continued...
As the bar closed Cynthia felt cool water flowing about her neck, her face, and her mouth. Reluctantly she drank, swished her mouth trying to clean the vile from her tongue, gums, teeth... her mouth felt yucky. Finally, she swallowed... at first a gulp reluctantly, then thirstily. She was sure it was drugged, but who cared. Cynthia was thirsty and tired of fighting. Thank this time she felt the drugs wash over her... slowly, wonderfully she sagged, dropping into slow blissful unconsciousness. Several men released the sleeping woman. Quickly and carefully they re-crated her as she had arrived. Cynthia was quietly shipped back to the warehouse.
As before she felt the cool air as she was partially un-crated. The offer of a drink was welcome. Cynthia drank thankfully knowing that this too was drugged. She welcomed the unconsciousness engulfing her. She slept. The men un-crated her leaving her naked next to her clothes on the floor of the warehouse.
Cynthia awoke and bit chilled. She felt naked, cold, alone, and grateful to be alive. She struggled to move... she dressed with a great deal of effort. Her jaws ached. Her tummy soured... she wretched and vomited bile as she remembered the night passed. Her legs felt heavy and stiff at the knees... her bottom ached, too tender to even comprehend. She had no idea where she was and that scared her more than the memories of last night. Her legs still wobbly she looked about carefully, quietly, slowly... She was alone. The morning was just past dawn. Cynthia returned to where they had left her... a jar... her tip jar... with a great deal of money packed in tightly set upon the concrete floor.... and a cell phone with a number... and the photos... photographs of her mounted to the wall... her humiliation and nightmare. She dialed the number. The cab dispatch answered. Cynthia asked for a ride... to where... well she did not know for sure... a bit more looking found a street number... and a street sign. Okay, the cab would be about twenty minutes.
Cynthia waited. She tried the phone again. The service faded into a no battery indicator... and gone. The cab arrived. She said nothing, nor did she move on the ride to her apartment.
Cynthia stripped, thru her clothes into the garbage, and walked to the shower. She sat curled in the warm water until it ran cold. She stood, toweled off, and dressed. Cynthia stood to the computer. She sat down, turned it on and clicked onto the site.
“I have been raped. Every part of my request was met... beyond my wildest expectations... and to my darkest horrors. Definitely not for the faint of heart nor partially committed. Now, I must recover my security and dignity. Not sure I would do this again, maybe; but I am sure I would not recommend the site... let someone find it as I did, by chance, and choose this for themselves. All I can say is, “Beware, you will be raped!” Cynthia pressed send, clicked off and curled into her bed for several days of deeply needed sleep and recovery.
|
|
|