The Quarter Final of the Ravished in a Flash Tournament has begun. Please rate the stories after reading them using the thumbs up button. The rating of a story determines the match winner.
LaLia wrote: Thu Apr 17, 2025 3:37 pm
Funny thing about the livestream...I was wondering the whole time during the first part if and how this story was related to Men at War. Sequel, prequel, or something...after your first comment, I understand
I have to make a note of Rapegiving Holiday, that gives me an idea.
I think it's brilliant how you drag out the whole thing; the conversation in the third chapter is really great. I think time references in a story are usually written as a time-lapse. You manage to make you experience the countdown practically 1:1. And his character, in particular, is presented really well.
And then in the last chapter, the same style...I like stories where you can put yourself in the victim's shoes, and you do that very well here. It's a somewhat atypical type of rape, I think, almost seductive, not degrading or overly harsh. But it fits into the overall structure. You tagged "unfinished," so I think something else will come. But actually, it would have been kind of brilliant to end the story that way. It would have had that WTF moment.
P.S.: Horny Lia took a 10-minute cold shower because it's gotten so damn hot in here.
First, did you just digitally 69 me? Naughty, naughty...
There is actually one story with a minor connection to Men at War. And that is Die Unendliche Vergewaltigung. There is only one named character in that story named Jimmy who is asked whether he wants to participate in the gang rape but declines. That is supposed to be the same Jimmy as in Men at War.
Feel free to make use of that rapesgiving joke however you want. I'm curious what your disturbed mind will come up with.
The story is still unfinished. It is currently 7 chapters long and I'm writing the 8th. It will probably be 10 or 11 in the end. But the next chapter is a special one for me. That one had me really drained after writing it and I had to take a long pause after it.
I never thought about ending a story more or less in the middle of the action like you suggested here, but I can see why you like the idea. It would be quite daring to do that and to resist the urge to go on. I'm not sure whether I would be disciplined enough for that.
Loved your feedback, Lia. I know it's a lot to read, so it's much appreciated!
Pain. That was the foremost sensation on her mind. His penis had hurt her. It had made her cry out. But it wasn’t what she had expected. She expected one violent thrust ripping her insides apart, making her bleed, his entire length resting in her for a moment before he started plunging into her shredded insides. Instead, his cock’s head had crashed into her constricted vaginal walls like an invading army against a castle wall. The difference between a castle’s walls and hers being that her vagina had pain receptors. And those pain receptors screamed at her to make it stop. She felt his penis surging against her vagina’s defenses over and over again, each new attack sending a jolt of pain into her virgin lap. The assault of his cock on her vagina wasn’t a break in. It was a siege.
He had expected this. He had hoped that he would be able to get at least the head inside of her. That would have made things so much easier. But after taking a good look at her vagina earlier when he had first parted her labia, he saw the current situation as the most likely outcome. He kept literally poking and prodding to find his way inside of her but so far to no avail. With every new attempt he could hear her whimper, confirming that he was hurting her. On the other hand, he could hear his own painful groans. He didn’t mean to compare his discomfort to hers but pushing his dick over and over against an unrelenting wall was not his definition of a fun time.
There had been a time when he believed that raping an unwilling girl was easy. The first girl he had ever raped had been a spur of the moment decision, a consensual encounter that had turned into something else as the act had progressed. He had fingered and licked her already when she had decided she would close her legs for him for lack of a condom and he in turn had forcefully opened them again. Shoving his dick into her had been easy as her arousal was more than sufficient. He had been lucky that she herself was later confused about to which degree this encounter had been consensual or not. This first experience had given him a taste.
The second girl he raped was unwilling from start to finish, not unlike Claire. He didn’t manage to penetrate her at all. He had hurt her a lot as he kept increasing the force behind his thrusts. Ultimately, he had injured his own dick in the attempt to enter her. It hadn’t been a bad injury but it was enough to kill his erection for the rest of the day.
He had done some research later on to figure out what had happened. He had learned that a woman’s vagina could experience muscle spasms that made her so tight that entry became literally impossible. Vaginismus was the medical term for this condition. In extreme cases, a vagina might constrict to a degree that not even a small finger or tampon could be inserted. From his own experience, he had realized that simply applying more force wasn’t the solution to the problem. He didn’t think that Claire was one of those extreme cases but entry certainly wasn’t easy.
Over the years, he had gained experience in the intricate craft of raping women. He had developed his own approach to overcome this hurdle. 1. Staying patient was key. Brute force wasn’t the solution. 2. Keep lubricating the opposing wall with your precum. 3. Keep applying light pressure either by constantly pressing your dick against her constricted walls or by repeated small thrusts. Sooner or later, her vagina will relax, if only for a moment, like it needs a second to breathe to reestablish its defenses. And that moment is the window of opportunity to slide just a little bit further into her, that is the moment when good prior lubrication makes all the difference. He would then keep repeating this process until his dick was completely nestled in his victim’s pleasure cave. To summarize, slow and steady wins over brute force.
Claire didn’t know any of this. To her, it felt like he was just stubbornly trying the same failing strategy over and over again. Each individual instant of pain wasn’t unbearable but the repeated assaults were tiring her out. She needed this to stop. Looking at Mark, she could see the strain on his face. This wasn’t fun for him either. If she couldn’t convince him to stop for her sake then maybe for his own.
“Stop this! I’m begging you! You’re just hurting us both, it’s not working.”
Usually, he didn’t mind his victims begging but during this phase of the rape he needed to focus. The greatest danger was losing his erection because the experience for his cock wasn’t pleasant. He was well prepared to maintain this erection for a long time if needed, but her complaining didn’t make this easier. It was a distraction. That is why he snapped a little at her.
“Honey, there is a man at work here, so be a good girl and shut the fuck up!”
He had tried to sound smug. Instead, the physical strain that this procedure put on him could be heard in his voice and overall he sounded more annoyed than condescending.
They had been at this for about 4 minutes when finally the awaited opportunity arrived. Claire let out a girlish shriek when the new sensation hit her. The sensation of a man’s penis entering her womanhood. It wasn’t much, it was just the head that had finally slipped in. But she could feel it inside of her, the invader. She didn’t know how much of his penis was already inside her and how much there was still to come. But she could feel that there was something beginning to stretch her insides against her will.
He had stopped for a moment. The actual advance into her vagina hadn’t hurt that much since it happened in the brief moment that her vaginal muscles had relaxed. Now her vagina reestablished its defensive walls but that part close to the entrance where his cock’s tip had come to rest could no longer be closed. Her vagina could only put pressure on the invading party, but it wasn’t enough to crush it. That part of her virgin canal had been conquered. The pain returned when he resumed his efforts to break through the second line of defense.
When he had felt the head of his cock finally entering her, a feeling of deep satisfaction spread throughout his body. It was always nice when effort was rewarded. He took a moment of rest. He had started to sweat and his breathing had become ragged. But he knew that he would soon continue. Her little shriek had been music to his ears. He knew that she had felt that. He wanted more of that, he wanted more of her. Based on his past experiences, he estimated that it would take 5 or 6 more of such advances until he was fully inside her. But the first step of penetration usually took the longest, so he expected things to speed up moving forward. There was still so much cunt to conquer.
He had often thought about what the difference between consensual sex and rape was for him. He had enjoyed consensual sex with women but there was something missing for him. He just couldn’t put his finger on what that something was. He wouldn’t deny that sleeping with a woman that was willing and ready for sex had its advantages. Case in point, you could enter her immediately without having to endure pain yourself as you invade her. How could he deny that that felt better? And yet, he didn’t mind the struggle he just went through.
He had read that rape was less about sexual pleasure and more about power. He couldn’t reject that but power was too abstract of a concept for him. He couldn’t relate to that at all. All he knew was this: The satisfaction he had derived from barely shoving his cock’s head into that petite girl’s virgin cunt had fulfilled him more than any consensual sex ever had. He went back to work with a smile.
As he resumed his advance, Claire felt that familiar pain. She just wanted it to stop. Again, he looked in pain as he literally kept ramming the head of his cock against a wall. She didn’t get it. Was it really so much fun?
She started to understand what he was doing even though she wasn’t able to express it like he did. There was really no reason for her to understand this. It didn’t change anything. But she was a thinker at heart. When at first he attempted to penetrate her, she had thought of his penis as a drill. And what he had been doing appeared to her to be very ineffective drilling. But this was a misconception on her part. She had thought of his penis as a drill because of its shape. But now she realized that he used his dick like a pickax. If she was correct with that assessment, she knew that it was only a matter of time until she would feel him invade her even deeper.
She had just finished that thought when she felt his cock slide a little deeper again. This time it took her breath away. Now she really started to feel how his penis was stretching her insides. For the first time she wondered whether this was all of his member. Whereas his first advance had taken 4 minutes, this one took only half the time.
She expected him to keep going as before and it didn’t take him long to start again. But before he did so, he laid his upper body on top of hers. Up to this point, he must have been worried that he might slip out of her in this position but now he was deep enough inside of her to keep going like this. He grabbed her shoulders with his hands and rested his head directly next to hers. He started moving again.
This brought a bunch of new impressions into her experience. First, there was still the slow but constant back and forth movement of his penis inside her. It kept chipping away at her vaginas defenses and it pained her just as much as before. Second, his own chest was now pressing against hers. She could feel his weight on her. But even more than that, since they had both been sweating quite a bit, the friction of their naked skin on each other was minimal and she could feel his chest smoothly rubbing over her boobs with every rocking motion of his body. Third, she could hear his accelerated breathing with his head resting directly next to hers. And she could hear him moaning. Sometimes from pain, sometimes from pleasure. Since he had entered her now quite a bit, every little thrust did not only result in a painful collision with her constricted walls but also provided pleasurable friction with the already conquered part of her vagina.
She didn’t know what she felt. She had become weirdly accustomed to the pain. It hadn’t gotten better, it had just become background noise for her. Having him on top of her like this, feeling the weight of his body, his penis inside her, his chest rubbing against hers, his breath on her neck… she could only describe it as intimate. And that was the moment she felt him slide a little deeper again. This time, she barely reacted. But she could hear his satisfied sigh.
He could feel the speed of progress accelerating. Lying on top of her like that had made this much more comfortable. Claire seemed to get more used to the presence of his cock in her cunt. Probably because he had stopped for a moment, Claire asked him:
“Was that all of it?”
Her voice was barely a whisper. With him lying so close to her she didn’t need to speak louder. Of course he knew that there was still a considerable length that needed to find its way inside her. She was so cute asking this that he decided to take her question seriously. He lifted up his body for a moment and took a look between her legs. What he saw was his cock sticking out of her cunt. About half of it was inside her, the other half outside. He loved that view. A girl’s pussy was never prettier than when its lips were tightly hugging her rapist’s cock’s shaft. He lied back down on top of her and whispered an honest answer into her ear.
“About half.”
She needed a moment to process his answer.
“O… kay.”
That was all she was able to say. He continued moving.
The deeper he was able to penetrate her, the better he started to feel. Earlier he had lost against her. She had launched an emotional surprise attack. And credit where credit is due, it had been an effective attack against his greatest weakness. He could only respect it, it was masterfully done. But now they were competing on his terrain. It was just him versus her, cock versus cunt. Her cunt’s resistance had been good but in the end, that much was clear by now, his cock’s experience would triumph over her inexperienced cunt. It was as simple as that. He would soon even the score.
Furthering his advance into her vagina had become easier and easier over time. In the end, it took him a little over 10 minutes to bury his cock in her cunt completely. Exhausted, he allowed his body to collapse on hers. He needed a break. But the difficult part was done. This break would give him time to recover his stamina and her vagina the time to accommodate the intruder. He could only imagine how all this must have felt for Claire. Sometimes he wondered what having a vagina is like and how a penis entering it must feel. He was sure that Claire’s vagina would be able to adjust to his size. He had measured his cock once at a length of 6 inches. That was a little above average as far as he knew. For this first penetration, it must have been a lot for her, but once he had fucked her 2 or 3 times he was sure that she would get used it.
Then he remembered, Claire probably wondered whether this was all of it. He should let her know.
“That was all of it. We should both rest a little. I won’t move for a while and your vagina will hopefully start accepting my cock’s presence. And once we’re rested, the real rape can begin. By the way, you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?”
Claire couldn’t tell how she felt. Weird was the only adjective that came to her mind. She felt like something had changed but she couldn’t say what. There was the pain, but gladly that was slowly subsiding now that he stopped moving. Then, there was the penis resting inside her. If she had to describe how that made her vagina feel, the only word she could use was ‘full’. She was literally full of cock. What else was there to say? She could also feel it twitching inside her. It was just as eager inside her as it had been outside of her. She suspected that it was still dripping the occasional drop of precum from its tip, but she wasn’t able to sense that. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. Mark had pointed that out correctly. But she had never seen her virginity as something precious she needed to protect.
She remembered that phone call with Jason from two weeks ago. He had just lost his virginity with his new girlfriend. Claire had been so happy for him that things were going well with his girlfriend. But she had also been worried that his girlfriend might get jealous of her and that she and Jason would no longer be as close because of that. Could she tell him how she had lost her virginity?
Her virginity was not what felt different about her. Then she realized. She had been raped without even knowing when exactly it had happened. She just knew that it did. So when did that happen? When his cock’s head had entered her? When half of him had entered her? Or had it happened just now with all of his penis being inside her? If the latter was true, wouldn’t that imply that small penises rape their victims faster? When does sexual assault become rape? None of that made any sense to her. In math, categories were clearly defined and precisely distinguishable from one another. She liked that about math. But in the real world, categories like rape were blurry around the edges. That is why she had just been raped without her even noticing the exact moment when it happened. Then she realized what had changed. She couldn’t precisely say when it had happened but she could say with certainty that from this moment on forward she would never be not a rape victim.
Claire hadn’t answered his question. She looked like she was contemplating something but he didn’t know what she was thinking about. She seemed to completely ignore him. After a while, he saw two silent tears escape her eyes. No head shaking, no sobbing, no sniffling, no whimpering, just 2 tears. He had seen this type of sad acceptance in his victims more than once. He imagined that moment of realization for his victims to be a lonely one. It didn’t matter. He was about to start fucking her for real and he was sure that a few good thrusts into her occupied cunt would return some life to her.
She could feel him raise up his body again, lifting most of his weight from her. He looked directly into her eyes, then she felt him start moving again. These were small and slow movements of his hips. To call these movements thrusts would be a discourtesy to the word. It was a gentle rocking motion that made his cock move ever so slightly inside of her. Compared to what she had gone through before, this barely hurt.
Most of her pain was a slowly fading remnant of his initial entry. His precum and probably some blood of hers provided enough lubrication for his cock to move freely inside her, now that her vagina had submitted to the intruder. She could feel him keep the speed of his movement deliberately slow while he was increasing the range of his cock’s back and forth gliding step by step. She couldn’t stand him gazing into her eyes and used what little freedom she had to turn her head to the side. He was thoroughly testing her hole now, trying to figure out how her vagina would react to some stronger movement. Physically, this hurt her much less than before. But the humiliation of being used like a toy and being assessed like his newest purchase was even bigger.
He was a bit disappointed to see her turning her head. He loved staring into her hazel eyes as he kept sliding into her. But for now, he didn’t mind. He was focused on the sensations that her newly conquered cunt provided his cock. She was incredibly tight. Even when he hadn’t been moving at all he could feel the tremendous pressure that her little love canal had exerted on his resting dick. He had invaded her with his cock, torn down her defenses one by one, occupied the space between her legs, that had once been hers, for himself and was expecting her cunt now to be a submissive vassal to his cock. Finally, her cunt was paying tribute to its new lord and he was ready to collect.
As he kept increasing the range of his movement, Claire came to the conclusion that he would soon pull out of her if he kept going like this. Of course, she was more than intelligent enough to recognize that this wouldn’t happen. And even if he accidentally pulled out of her, what would stop him from simply reentering her? Nevertheless, those ever increasing periods of withdrawal from his penis provided her with some relief. It wasn’t particularly painful to feel his entire length inside of her but she had come to resent that unfamiliar feeling of fullness. His mere presence was a punishment for her.
He had reached the point where his penis was now resting at her entrance again, just like it had when this whole ordeal had begun. She expected him to slowly slide back. Instead, she gasped when he suddenly plunged his entire length back into her. She felt the impact throughout her entire body. He started another slow withdrawal, rested for a brief moment at her entrance and plunged back into her. This forced a pained moan out of her.
“You may moan as much and as loud as you like.”
She heard him whisper into her ear. Then she felt him kiss her cheek and his hips crashed into hers again. The disgust was written on her face. She hated that she was now so familiar with the feeling of his cock inside her that she could tell exactly how far he had withdrawn from her. Another thrust. She tried to suppress her voice to deny him the satisfaction of moaning directly into his ear. Another thrust.
“Should you start to enjoy is, then my recommendation is that you just let it happen. Don’t fight it.”
How could she ever enjoy this? Three quarters of his filth were still inside of her.
“Personally, I don’t care whether a girl gets off during her rape or not.”
She had noticed that already. He had now withdrawn to the point that only half of his cock was still inside her.
“But in the rare case that a girl gets really off on it, I don’t go so far as to make it more uncomfortable for her.”
How merciful of him. She felt still a quarter of his dick inside her.
“Experiencing an orgasm that you didn’t want during your rape is humiliating enough, isn’t it? No need to be cruel about it.”
He was now resting at her entrance. Claire braced herself for his next thrust.
“I only need to know that she doesn’t want me inside of her.”
Claire closed her eyes. He drilled himself back into her, reoccupying the space he had briefly abandoned.
“I just love how tight you are, girl. You feel so good wrapped around my cock.”
He started another slow withdrawal. Claire tried not to listen to him. But him whispering directly into her ear made that difficult.
“How did you manage to stay a virgin until today? Was there no high school sweetheart that wanted to snuggle his dick into the pussy of the cutest girl in school?”
She felt his cock fill her again. And again. And again. And again… Every time she hoped that he’d just pull out. Every time he crushed her hope.
“It’s time we sped this up a little. You’re ready to be fucked like a big girl now.”
For the first time, she could feel him thrusting into her at a consistent pace. His body crushing into hers over and over again generated that clapping sound associated with passionate sex she only knew from porn. Knowing that these sounds came from the violation of her body made her feel incredibly ashamed. At least, they somewhat drowned out the pained moaning she no longer could suppress. With every push of his cock into her abused pussy, she felt him entering her balls deep. That feeling of fullness and the heat generated by the constant friction between his hard rod and her vaginal walls were still at the center of her attention. But she could also feel the sheer force of his thrusts rippling through her tender body. Every time he fired his hardened meat into her delicate hole, it made her tits jump.
“Please, I want this to be over…”
He answered her by fucking her even harder. She wanted it to be over so bad. She swallowed her remaining pride when she told him.
“Just come already…”
Once more he increased the frequency of his thrusts to punish her for trying to tell him what to do. He was sick of her trying to assert her will over his.
“No. I’ll fill you with my cum when I want to. Understood?”
Claire was slowly reaching a breaking point under the constant pounding of her freshly deflowered pussy. Her wrists were straining against her cuffs trying to break free. So did her ankles. She was desperately trying to close her legs but only managed to press her thighs against his hips which didn’t bother him at all. Her breathing became heavier and heavier. The only thing she could control were her fingers and her toes but those didn’t help one bit. Her attempts to lift up her torso to push him off her were crushed under his much heavier body. When her frustration at her helplessness reached its peak, she came up with a plan. Not a smart plan, a plan born out of total desperation, but a plan.
He feared that he would come soon if he kept fucking her at this pace. He wanted to draw out this first orgasm for as long as he could. But he was also strangely unwilling to slow down.
“You’re pathetic.”
He heard Claire insult him.
“Oh? Why is that?”
He was amused by her attempt to insult him.
“A real man wouldn’t need to chain a girl half his weight to a bed to take her.”
He didn’t understand what she was trying to do. Did she really think she could provoke him into unchaining her in the middle of him fucking her? He leaned forward to whisper a taunt of his own into her ear.
“You got a bit of fighting spirit still left in you, don’t you? I wonder how many fuckings it will take to get that out of…”
He suddenly screamed in pain and jolted into an upright position. His left ear hurt and looking at Claire he could see a few drops of blood on her lips. They were both breathing heavily. After touching his hurting ear, there was also some blood on his fingers but it didn’t seem to be a serious wound. The girl had lured him into whispering something into her ear so she could bite into his ear. And he couldn’t detect a hint of regret on that proud face.
For the first time in her life, Claire had drawn a sense of satisfaction from physically hurting another person. At this point, she detested him so much that she would have bitten his ear off if she could. She could feel about half of his penis still inside her as he had returned to a kneeling position. But at least he stopped moving for the time being. She might have gotten in a tactical shot with her little ruse but strategically this was likely a mistake.
If survival was her top priority, then how did this help at all? Best case scenario, she’d bite his ear off and he’d bleed to death from the wound. It would stop her rape, but then what? She would probably die of thirst lying in her own excrements still chained to this mattress. Of course there was a chance that someone might find her, but to bet on that? That didn’t even account for the much more likely scenario that she’d inflict a brief moment of pain on her rapist who could then take his revenge on her in any way he wanted.
Strategically, the smart play would have been to endure the rape and to believe in his promise that he’d let her go after 24 hours. Because, as strange as it sounds, up to this point he hadn’t lied to her even once. He didn’t try to hide his intentions, he had told her what he’d done to get her here, when her rape would start. It was all accurate. There hadn’t been a single instance of him trying to mislead her, making her false promises that he’d let her go if she cooperated only to go back on his word once she had debased herself. Whatever he got out of all of this, false pretenses were not part of his modus operandi.
Claire knew of all that. Her counterattack, while planned, was ultimately the impulsive decision of a young woman unable to take it any longer. But now that she saw this clearly, she started to fear for her life. Mark hadn’t said anything or moved for that matter. He was just staring at her, his eyes wandering over her body. She thought he would slap her face, punch her stomach, twist her nipples or bite her himself. That he was just looking at her, not even with lust, but with this expressionless face scared her more then anything.
“Mark, I…”
He impaled her once more on the entirety of his cock to make her shut up. It worked. She felt him put his left hand on her stomach. From there, he kept pushing it slowly up her body, gradually lowering his body onto hers again as he let his hand lead the way. But this wasn’t the gentle caressing touch of his earlier exploration of her body. No, he was now pushing her into the mattress with force. When his hand on its upward trajectory moved in between her breasts, she felt him resume his thrusting. He didn’t linger on her breasts for a moment, seemingly disinterested in them. All the while, he was staring her down, without blinking, expressionless. As his hand approached her throat, she became all too aware of her own vulnerability. It would be so easy for him to choke her to death. She felt the pressure on her trachea but it wasn’t enough to suffocate her. When his hand reached her chin, she was panicking.
“I’m sor…”
Having reached his destination, he drowned out the sound of her voice with his hand clasping her mouth shout. He pressed her head down onto the mattress. Claire was screaming into his hand, believing he was about to suffocate her. But he stopped his hand just before covering her nose, thus allowing her to breath. He had no interest in fucking a corpse after all. Then, a session of furious fucking began that neither of them had experienced before.
The way he had fucked her earlier could have been described as passionate love making in a consensual encounter. Now he was pounding her ungrateful cunt like a jackhammer. All the while, she was screaming for her life into his hand. He didn’t care. Soon enough, she’d realize on her own that she could breath. He wouldn’t kill her, he wouldn’t disfigure or otherwise permanently harm her, he had slowly prepared her cunt for his cock, and yet she bit him. She had no idea how much worse her rape could have been if she had fallen into the hands of a guy with no morals. What an ungrateful bitch. He wasn’t covering her mouth to suffocate her. He just wanted to fuck her in peace.
Hearing her muffled screams aroused him even further. And in her full blown panic, her body tensed up nicely, letting him enjoy the sensation of her love canal tightening even further. This fucking had a raw brutality to it that everything, that had come before, lacked. His goal was to teach her one thing and one thing only: He was in command of her body.
He was relentless in his assault. Claire seemed to have figured out that she wasn’t about to die, turning her panicked screams into muffled groaning. Yet, she tried desperately to escape his hand, shaking her head back and forth. She still didn’t get it. He was in command of her body. What made her think she could shake her head like this? As if to drive his point home, he increased the intensity of his thrusts once more. Then he put his right hand on her head, tightly gripping her scalp.
He finally had her where he wanted her. Her hand and feet, her arms and legs restricted by cuffs. Her upper body constraint by his own. Her head fixated by his hands, forcing her to either look at the ceiling or to close her eyes. All the while, he was staking her abused hole over and over again. What had once been her vagina was now his cunt.
Claire was forced to look at the ceiling. But she didn’t understand. Why was the ceiling shaking? She felt him thrusting.
He was in command of her body. The only movement of her body he allowed her was the shaking that his thrusts induced. Everything else was forbidden.
She couldn’t figure out why the ceiling was shaking but it worried her. She felt him thrusting.
He could feel the first signs of his approaching climax. He had dreaded this moment. He didn’t want to come yet. He wasn’t past the point of no return yet, but it was within reach. His body was trying to tell him that he had fucked himself into a frenzy and that he was approaching the point of total exhaustion. He should either come or slow down. But he wasn’t willing to accept either of these two options.
Was there a real danger that the ceiling might collapse from all that shaking? Claire didn’t want to be buried under the rubble. She felt him thrusting.
He had overcome so much to get to this point. The rules of the world he lived in, his own guilt, her emotional appeals. But now even his own body was turning against him, telling him to stop in one way or another? Fuck all of that! In total defiance of even his own body, he increased the pace once more.
The shaking of the ceiling had gotten stronger. Still, the ceiling remained intact. Whoever build this, she thought, knew what they were doing. She felt him thrusting.
If neither coming nor slowing down was an option, he needed a distraction. He looked at her tits. They were beautiful. They kept jumping up and down every time he shoved himself into her as if they were dancing for him. They were following his rhythm, just as they were supposed to. ‘Jump higher, little boobs, higher!’ he thought. To make his order a reality, he fired a volley of stronger thrusts into her lap. Moments later, her tits obeyed. Good, he thought, he was in command of her body.
The shaking ceiling still worried her. But she drew some comfort from the thought that she was apparently living in an earthquake proof city. She felt him thrusting.
He needed another distraction. His eyes wandered up her arms to her cuffed hands. He saw tightly clenched fist, her own nails digging into her palms, drawing blood in the process. Obviously, this must have been painful for her, and yet she kept digging. That was one way for her to defy him. He had no way to fuck her control over her fingers away from her. ‘Keep fighting, girl.’ he thought. What irony, here he was deflowering a virgin and the blood on the bed sheet would come from his ear and her palms. To acknowledge her fighting spirit, he tried to increase his pace one more time. Whether he succeeded he couldn’t tell.
She should tell Emily about this remarkably resilient ceiling sometime. As a physicist, she was bound to have some appreciation for such a marvelous construction. She felt him thrusting.
He wish he knew morse code, he thought. If he did, he could fuck the fact that he was in command of her body directly into her cunt by adjusting the timing of his thrusts, forever inscribing this undeniable truth into her body and soul.
Her vision had become blurry. That was bad. How would she be able to react to the ceiling breaking if she couldn’t see it? She felt him thrusting.
He felt the hand clasping her mouth get wet. She was crying again. Another way to defy him. He couldn’t control her tears. But he could let her know of his disapproval. Without stopping or slowing his thrusts for a moment, he hovered over her head, exhaling onto her face, spit dripping from his mouth onto her skin. Then he licked one of her tears from her cheeks.
She had closed her eyes. She didn’t need to see the ceiling. The ceiling would never hurt her. It had been too kind to her to ever do something like that. She felt him thrusting.
Again, he felt his orgasm creep up. In one desperate final attempt to distract himself, he tried to focus on everything but his impending orgasm. Of course, there was the overwhelming pleasure that his cock received from its continued advances. Her cunt was a passion mine that kept on giving and he was here to plunder every single pleasure deposit hidden in her depths. But there was also the feeling of his aching balls begging for release, the fear that the coming explosion would burst his cock’s head. He could hear the intense clapping of her cheeks like he'd never heard it before, telling him that he didn’t just imagine the final acceleration of his thrusts. He was gasping and wheezing, his body screaming for oxygen, his mouth wide agape, saliva dripping all over the girl buried underneath him. His pulse had reached heights that every doctor would caution against and he could feel his pounding heart desperately trying to keep up with his rapid fire fucking. He couldn’t hold on any longer. He would come now or die from exhaustion trying to delay it any further.
She still had her eyes closed when she felt him remove his hand from her mouth, enabling her to breath through her mouth again. The brutal pounding of her pussy kept going. He put his other hand behind her head and slightly lifted her head into a position where she had to look into his face if she opened her eyes. She didn’t want to see him but she knew that that was what he wanted her to do. In this moment at least, that she knew, he was in command of her body. Thus, she obeyed.
What she saw was a grotesque figure, a man possessed. He looked directly into her eyes. She saw him fucking her at a speed she had prior deemed impossible for the human body to achieve. His face was distorted by pain and exhaustion. His mouth wide open and his teeth fletched, he kept breathing on her face. All the while, he was literally drooling over her in spades. His breathing had turned into desperate wheezing sounds. She was by no means an expert on male orgasms, but she knew that he was about to come when he had made it clear that he wanted her to look at him. She was surprised by the feeling of his cock expanding beyond the size she had come so accustomed to. It was not so much an extension in length as in width, pulling her constricting vaginal walls further apart. One last act of domination of his cock over what had once been her vagina.
She interpreted this as a sign that he had moved past the point of no return in his arousal. Jason had explained to her back in the day, that he might be able to delay the inevitable by a few seconds but he would come no matter what he did. She could feel him go for one last sprint over the finish line at the end of this marathon, battering her tortured and worn out cunt with abandon. The closer he came to dumping his seed into her depths, the more did his face distort. His head tilted back further and further. He desperately tried to maintain eye contact with her, but failed as his eyes started to roll back into his head. He looked more and more like a rabid wolf about to howl at the moon. And then it happened.
The first thing she noticed was the tremendously strong final thrust balls deep into her cunt. This time he didn’t withdraw at all. Then she heard the deep visceral growl that escaped his mouth. It sounded more painful than pleasurable. Next, she felt the expansion of his cock reach its peak. Immediately after, something hot burst forth with great pressure from the tip of his buried lance and added even more heat to her already burning cunt. The disgust she felt at the sensation of being flooded by his seed was indescribable. She knew that a man’s ejaculation usually was in the range of 1.5 to 6 milliliters of liquid, not much more than a spoon full. Even if his orgasm was extraordinary in the amount of liquid he poured into her, it could not be far out of that range. But in her mind, she had been violated by a garden hose that was now pouring gallons of his cum inside her, forever painting her vaginal walls in her rapist’s color.
His first shot of cum into her cunt brought him little pleasure. It was a desperately needed release of pressure that was about to rip him apart, nothing more. His cock spurt forth that first wave of cum with such pressure, that he imagined it splashing against her insides with the force of a head getting splattered against a wall by a shotgun shot. It was only the second wave of cum that started to grant him that feeling of total bliss, satisfying him more than any other orgasm ever had.
The second and third wave of his cum entering her felt almost gentle in comparison. She could mostly sense his seed’s heat and of course the violent twitching of his cock as it spurted his filth into her. It made her feel ill. At the same time, she could see his face soften. What had been a pained growl now transitioned into deeply satisfied moans. His satisfaction appeared to be proportional to the amount of cum inside her.
With the third and fourth rope of cum leaving his dick, he could start to feel his body relax. He was completely exhausted and would let himself rest on top of Claire’s girlish body. He knew that soon his balls would be empty but he wished he could keep coming inside her like this indefinitely, filling her up to capacity and beyond.
By the fourth and fifth wave he had collapsed on top her with a stupid grin on his face. After this, it was impossible for her to tell whether he was still adding cum to what he had already pumped into her. She assumed that he had reached the point where only single drops if anything at all were coming out of his dick. Despite this, she could feel his cock happily pumping away inside of her for quite a while.
She hadn’t had the guts to look at the alarm clock for a while now. But now that they had reached this point, she just had to. 00:34 was what the display showed. So 23 hours and 26 minutes of… this... until he would let her go. She looked at him. He was completely spent. What more could he possibly want? His cock was still hard inside of her. She had hoped that he’d be soft by now and would slip out of her. He had constantly been inside of her since he had first penetrated her. She wanted nothing more than to feel her vagina being empty again. And she felt as empty as she wished her vagina to be.
Looking at him resting on top of her, she couldn’t help but think: He looked so happy, so content, so satisfied. Had she ever seen anything like this? Was this what true happiness looked like? If so, that would be incredibly sad, she thought. What Claire was unable to realize at the time, was this: He had stolen her happiness from her and traded it in for a fleeting moment of bliss. The reason why she couldn’t identify it as such was, that with her own happiness gone, she no longer had a reference point for what true happiness looked like.
His cock stopped finally pumping and twitching inside her. He was still hard and he enjoyed staying inside of her for a while longer. It had been a hard battle for his cock to conquer this space inside her. There was no reason to withdraw prematurely. Raping Claire had been like nothing he had experienced before. He had raped 12 women before her, making her lucky number 13. A prime number. A math girl like Claire should be able to appreciate that. Never before had he felt such joy. How could he have ever doubted that this was the right thing to do? In this moment, he was convinced that it had all been worth it. The risk, the self doubt, the guilt, all of it worth it. Had these past 12 encounters even been true rapes compared to this? Never before had he fucked himself into such a frenzy.
He wasn’t sure whether this was just a profound state of post nut clarity but he had finally found the answer to what it was that made rape special for him compared to consensual sex. He felt almost enlightened in this state. He pitied the droves of people who would never come to this realization because they did not dare to cross certain lines. The difference between sex and rape was: Good sex ends in pleasure. But a good rape…
A good rape ends in victory.
-------------------------------------------------------------
I want to create a longer post later about how I feel about this chapter and how it came about. I'd like to see whether I can get some engagement out of this.
A really well-written piece that reveals incredibly powerful thoughts. I think that his thoughts are more in focus is intentional, right? The fact that you address anatomical things like cramping or simply the fact that one doesn't tend to get wet is super realistic, and I think, sorry, men, that's often not so clear to them. I always find stories where rape suddenly turns into pleasurable sex a bit strange.
Can you start to enjoy it? I think it's very, very difficult, that it goes beyond the level of endurance or the fear of playing along. Your thought about "for strategic reasons, it would have been better if..." was exactly what would probably go through a victim's mind.
In general, you start very softly, not the typical rape, and if she weren't a virgin, I'd say she's lucky. But you've incorporated a lot of what the perpetrator or victim would think or feel incredibly well. It's interesting to consider whether there are rapists who aren't interested in power! I've always seen this as a motif in my fantasies and stories. But I also find it difficult to understand what else could be the big trigger, because the fact that it can also hurt the man is never really addressed in a story.
Conclusion: I think "profound" is the right word to describe your story. And even though there comes a point where things get more intense, the sexual act is less of a focus here.
LaLia wrote: Mon Apr 21, 2025 11:13 am
A really well-written piece that reveals incredibly powerful thoughts. I think that his thoughts are more in focus is intentional, right? The fact that you address anatomical things like cramping or simply the fact that one doesn't tend to get wet is super realistic, and I think, sorry, men, that's often not so clear to them. I always find stories where rape suddenly turns into pleasurable sex a bit strange.
Can you start to enjoy it? I think it's very, very difficult, that it goes beyond the level of endurance or the fear of playing along. Your thought about "for strategic reasons, it would have been better if..." was exactly what would probably go through a victim's mind.
In general, you start very softly, not the typical rape, and if she weren't a virgin, I'd say she's lucky. But you've incorporated a lot of what the perpetrator or victim would think or feel incredibly well. It's interesting to consider whether there are rapists who aren't interested in power! I've always seen this as a motif in my fantasies and stories. But I also find it difficult to understand what else could be the big trigger, because the fact that it can also hurt the man is never really addressed in a story.
Conclusion: I think "profound" is the right word to describe your story. And even though there comes a point where things get more intense, the sexual act is less of a focus here.
Thank you so much for the kind words. I think that is the first time somebody called my writing profound.
His thoughts being more in focus in this chapter is intentional, to a degree at least. I also wanted to give Claire a lot of room here in this back and forth. I find her moment of realization that she will now forever be a rape victim... haunting and her dissociative state shortly before he comes difficult to read. But Mark is in a sense the protagonist of this chapter. He is the one who struggles, overcomes obstacles and goes through a moment of realization that leaves him a more fulfilled person at the end of the chapter. And Claire is the main antagonist in his story who tries to stop him, first won't let him in at all, bites him, until his own body becomes his main enemy. Weird as that may sound, but that is how the chapter is told in a way.
When it comes to the issue of arousal/orgasm during rape it is actually hard to find anything reliable on that. What I found on the issue, numbers fluctuate from 5% to 50% of all victims experiencing arousal/orgasm during nonconsensual sex. The important point is not to interpret a physical reaction as them wanting it or even as enjoyment. The same is btw true for men who also can experience unwanted erections during sexual abuse which, from what I read, can be even more shameful for them because it feeds into the narrative that "men can't be raped".
I wouldn't say that Mark is not interested in power. He himself doesn't even deny that. It is just a framing that doesn't help him understand himself, he views it as "too abtract". Seeing it as a form of competition, as winning is what gets him off. And of course, beating someone else in a competition is a form of exerting power over someone else.
The idea for Claire cramping up so much that penetration was near impossible was mostly inspired by this article I had read a while ago. Of course I knew before reading that that a vagina can cramp up a lot, but I don't think I knew anyone who had to struggle with this as much as Leonie from that article. I just thought it was an interesting idea to include in a rape scene. The other aspect that inspired me was that I read that, if I remember correctly, up to 50% of all rapes, or rape attempts I should say, fail. We usually portray raping a woman as easy and to a degree that comes with it being rape fantasy. But I found the thought that a serial rapist like Mark might have become familiar with women cramping up over the course of his "career" an interesting detail to explore.
I hesitate a bit to call this rape "soft". It is true that physically, her body isn't destroyed after that. And apart from me not finding that particularly interesting, it also wouldn't work from a purely narrative perspective. If from this moment on forward Claire would be in such extreme physical pain that even the slightest touch would have her howling in agony, she would no longer be a character in this story. You simply can not have a character in a long narrative whose only thoughts and feelings revolve around the physical pain of it all. In scenes like this, I tend to portray the psychological brutality of it in the descriptions I use. In this case for example, as the physical intensity of the act increases, Mark is described as outright monstrous in the end. And Claire uses imagery like "she felt like she had been violated by a garden hose". To me, a description of the emotional trauma like this feels more brutal while reading than any "Her breasts were bruised, her nose broken and her pussy bleeding from the barrage of punches and thrusts." ever could. But that might just be me.
Anyway, I'll talk a bit more about this in my next post.
I would like to share with you a bit about how I wrote Record Chaser up to this point. I would love to hear your thoughts on this.
The Intent
When I started to write Record Chaser, I wanted to write a story that didn't shy away from the traumatic nature of rape. I wanted to put it front and center. I also wanted to depict a rapist who is not just an unfeeling psychopath. Rape is such a common occurrence in the real world but we like to think of rapists as monsters. But in general, it occurs far too often to be just something that psychopaths without the capacity for empathy do. That is why I decided to have Mark struggle with guilt. As far as Claire is concerned, I wanted her to be likeable. I didn't want to tell a story that made readers think "The bitch had it coming", that leaned into the fantasy of a manipulating woman being a cocktease getting her comeuppance. I wanted the descriptions of her rape to be arousing, but I wanted it to be arousing despite it feeling tragic and traumatic, not because it downplayed those aspects. When I read stories on RavishU before I registered there, I felt like only few stories actually engaged with that. So I was trying to fill a gap there that I perceived as a reader before I became an author myself.
What the story means to me
As the first story I ever wrote, it obviously has a special place in my heart. Im surprised with how satisfied I am still with it. And I needed to take a break from it after finishing chapter 5, for multiple reasons. When I really get into a story I'm writing, I can feel quite strong emotions. I can't read the final chapter of Men at War without laughing at the absurdity of it and I can't read chapter 3 part 2 of Späte Genugtuung (Late Satisfaction) without crying. But chapter 5 of Record Chaser was in a different league. I felt disgusted by myself after I finished writing that. Maybe I delved in too deep into Mark's mindset, but portraying the final sentence of that chapter as this great revelation... Ugh, I still shudder a bit at the thought when I think too much about it. Looking back on it now, I am not surprised that the next few stories I wrote weren't nearly as heavy. An Unfortunate Misstep is just a forgettable quicky, Men at War is a satire, Venus' Touch for the most part is plain romantic and then I wrote a tribute story for another user on RavishU that had comedic elements to it. It was only then, more than a month later, that I was ready to get back into the darker tone of Record Chaser and its sister story Späte Genugtuung.
Of everything I wrote, chapter 5 of Record Chaser is also the most arousing for me. Of everything I wrote, this is what I masturbated the most to. I just love how wrong it feels to find the content of this chapter hot. I've been told by a reader in the past that he had to suppress his empathy for the victim to find a scene hot. But to me it's the other way around. The more I feel for the victim, the more arousing does that tension between "This is so wrong!" and "This is so hot..." get.
What I had planned
When I started writing, I had these first 5 chapters planned. Originally, I expected Chapter 3 and 4 to be just one chapter, but the basic outline of the events remained the same. That is why you can see bits of foreshadowing or elements established in the first few chapters that come into play only later. There is the green light she notices that turns out to be an alarm clock or for example the following line from Claire's narration in chapter 2:
It was not inconceivable that a woman on the upper end of the normal distribution in female strength and height might be able to physically compete with Mark
Most people don't talk or think like that but once you get her background in mathematics in chapter 3, this inner voice makes sense and doesn't feel so out of place anymore. And there is many things like that where information is casually revealed or hinted at in the narration or dialogue. I always wondered whether readers noticed any of that.
Where to go from here?
Another reason why it took me some time to continue writing the story was that I had honestly barely any idea how to follow chapter 5. After I published chapter 6, the user JTCK on RavishU put it like this:
JTCK wrote:(...)Many stories follow the same path. After the first vaginal rape follows a second (mostly oral) and a third (anal) rape. They may be well written and hot, but predictable. Not so this story.(...)
And he was right about that. I could have escalated the sexual abuse, but I could never keep up the emotional tension of chapter 5 without the reader becoming numb to it. I had 4 chapters and 13,083 words of build up for chapter 5 and now all that tension had been released. I could not simply continue like this without giving the story a moment to breath.
The second problem I faced was: How can I keep writing Claire as an active character? If this was a 3,000 word short story, then having a woman chained up in a basement is not a huge problem in terms of agency of characters, especially if the story is told from the rapist's perspective. But in a long narrative it would just be boring to have her be a passive character that does now get raped in 7 different ways and then the story is over. Over those first 5 chapters, I think I managed to establish a back and forth dynamic between Mark and Claire. But he is ultimately the one with all the power. Giving Mark these self-imposed rules he adheres to does not only make him more interesting as a character in my opinion, but it also gives Claire the possibility to resist in certain ways. If he didn't have those rules, he could just break any sign of resistance from her by holding a knife to her throat.
So chapter 6 naturally needed to be a bit of a reset point for the story that gave the narrative a moment to breath and that returned some agency and focus to Claire. I'm curious to see what you will think about how I handled that once I publish chapter 6.
So yeah, these are some insights in what I wanted to do with the story, what it means to me and what I struggled with during the writing process. Do these things come through in the writing? Did I say anything that was surprising to you after having read the story so far? I'd be really curious to hear your thoughts on this.
An unusual story. Unusual primarily because it's so dialogue-heavy. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but rather unusual, at least for me.
The last part, in particular, made me curious to see what would happen after midnight. Can Mark actually put his plan into action? Or will Claire still manage to change his mind and avoid the rapes?
Blue wrote: Wed Apr 23, 2025 3:02 pm
An unusual story. Unusual primarily because it's so dialogue-heavy. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but rather unusual, at least for me.
The last part, in particular, made me curious to see what would happen after midnight. Can Mark actually put his plan into action? Or will Claire still manage to change his mind and avoid the rapes?
I'm not sure how far you've read exactly, but it sounds to me like you are at the end of either chapter 2 or 3? There is currently 5 chapters published and... you will find out what happens after midnight if you read those chapters you seem to have overlooked. I hope that didn't spoil anything.
And yeah, I agree that the story has a fairly strong emphasis on dialogue. That just comes with this being a fairly long story that covers several hours in great detail.
@Claire:
Oops, I made a technical error. The last two chapters weren't displayed when I accessed the story, and I had responded directly to a comment about Part 3 without reading the rest.
What follows, however, I found very interesting. Claire's attempts to dissuade her rapist from his plan. Her thought processes during these attempts. Her feelings when he finally penetrated her.
On the other hand, the rapist's brainwaves. How he tries to hold back his arousal and ejaculation for as long as possible. And then the flashbacks, in which we casually learn that Claire is now his 13th victim.
Even though I find it rather unlikely that the entire "process" took him 34 minutes.
Blue wrote: Wed Apr 23, 2025 4:24 pm
@Claire:
Oops, I made a technical error. The last two chapters weren't displayed when I accessed the story, and I had responded directly to a comment about Part 3 without reading the rest.
What follows, however, I found very interesting. Claire's attempts to dissuade her rapist from his plan. Her thought processes during these attempts. Her feelings when he finally penetrated her.
On the other hand, the rapist's brainwaves. How he tries to hold back his arousal and ejaculation for as long as possible. And then the flashbacks, in which we casually learn that Claire is now his 13th victim.
Even though I find it rather unlikely that the entire "process" took him 34 minutes.
I'm happy you got some enjoyment out of this. I know that this isn't exactly your kind of story, so I appreciate that you took the time to read through it all anyway. Now I am curious what the Google translation makes out of this story. I imagine some parts to be rough.
Claire’s mind had tried to escape the ordeal that Mark’s assault had inflicted upon her body. She hadn’t been able to feel the heat of her own body, the copious amounts of sweat from herself and Mark on her skin, his weight on top of her or her nails digging into her palms. The only sensation that had registered with her through the numbing haze covering her traumatized mind had been his constant thrusting that forced her vagina to open up for his invading cock. But now that he had stopped moving and was resting on top of her, these other sensations returned to her.
She felt extremely hot and exhausted. She was sweating a lot trying to cool herself. The equally hot body of the man lying on top of her didn’t make this easy. She felt pain. His cock was resting inside her and didn’t cause any immediate harm at the moment, but his assault had been relentless and the parted walls of her conquered cunt still felt the slowly subsiding pain. When she relaxed her hands, she noticed that she had wounded her palms that were now wet with her own blood. Her nails weren’t particularly long, but long enough to cut into her hands. The weight of his chest on her breasts pressed them into her body. It didn’t hurt, but she felt suffocated under his weight. His slowing breath on her neck was a constant reminder of his presence and how close he was to her.
She wanted the hard rod that his penis had turned into to leave her body. Wasn’t he supposed to grow soft after coming? Instead of losing its hardness and slipping out of her, she felt him starting to move again. He lifted himself slightly off her body letting his arms carry his weight. He looked her in the eye as he kept withdrawing and reentering her at a deliberately slow pace. Claire didn’t avert her eyes from his. For some reason, she thought that looking away from him would mean accepting the second violation of her body, that not offering some form of resistance granted him permission. Her returning his stare was meant to tell him ‘I don’t want this.’ Of course she was aware that this might arouse him even further. But she was resisting for her own sake, not because she believed that she could do anything to actually change his mind.
It took her a while to understand that Mark wasn’t trying to reach another orgasm at this moment. He was moving slowly and gave off quiet satisfied moans as he explored her pussy. His movements were nothing like the frenzied thrusting that had defined his earlier finish. He withdrew almost completely, moved his hips slightly to the left and pushed his entire length back into her from this new angle. He repeated the process from the right, from below and above, exploring all conceivable angles. While each penetration felt slightly different for her, they had one thing in common: They were smooth. The unyielding resistance of her vagina from roughly 40 minutes ago was now nothing but a relic from a long forgotten past. He had forced her open and his first giant load had now provided him with the lubrication needed to make moving in her easy.
Then she realized what he was doing. He was bathing his dick in his own semen and her vagina was the tub. He had doused his triumphant cock in celebratory champagne and was now enjoying his victory lap. She didn’t miss the pain of his first thrusts into her, but the ease with which he moved inside her was humiliating. He started to gently caress her right cheek, maintaining eye contact for the entire time. If somebody saw them, they might have mistaken the scene in front of them as a lovers embrace after sex. And then she was suddenly terrified. He was about to kiss her and for some reason that bothered her even more than the cock inside her. She considered biting him again, but to do that she would have to let him make contact in the first place. She didn’t want to be kissed by him, not even a little bit, especially not while he maintained this illusion of gentle aftercare after he had brutally raped her. Her mind was racing as his face came closer to hers. His lips were only moments away from touching hers.
“My phone needs recharging!”
It was the only thing she could come up with.
“… what?”
Mark stopped moving. He was visibly confused. He was so dumbfounded by her words that it didn’t even occur to him to don his psychotic persona to answer her.
“You said that you’d give me back my phone once you’re done and that you’d recharge it for me beforehand if the battery was empty. So that I can use a navigation app on my way home. Don’t you remember? The battery should be almost empty. Please, recharge it for me.”
It was a desperate attempt to get him off her. There was no good reason for him to honor her request. But she knew that for whatever twisted thought process in his fucked up brain it was important to him to be honest with her and to keep his word. She looked into his eyes, his face only inches away from hers. She was breathing heavily, bidding him to stay true to his word with her unrelenting gaze. He was contemplating her request, clearly not willing to give up that hard earned space between her legs just yet. Then she heard him sigh, feeling him exhale onto her face in the process.
“Alright… but that battery better be actually empty.”
Shortly after she felt him withdraw his hard cock in its entirety from her vagina for the first time since he had initially penetrated her. Her vagina was hers again, for now.
Reluctantly, Mark pulled out of Claire. He let out a sigh as his cock stood proudly over the body of the girl he had filled with his seed. A thin film of his cum covered his cock glistening in the dim light of the room. A drop of thick cum dripped out of the tiny slit on his cock’s head. Like a spider’s thread did the viscous liquid slowly drop from his tip down onto her stomach. He wanted nothing more than to push his hard lance back into her. He knew that for as long as he kept moving inside her, his dick wouldn’t grow soft, not until he’d come a second time. His self prescribed orgasm fast had allowed him to stay hard even after his first massive climax and if he wanted to he could have kept fucking her until he recovered enough for his second cumshot.
But he had promised her that he would charge her phone for her. Of course he knew that she was playing him, but it was his fault for not charging her phone earlier. He couldn’t blame Claire for exploiting the loop holes in his self imposed rules. He considered for a moment to fuck her until his second orgasm and to charge her phone afterwards but he decided against it. He didn’t like it when people followed their own principles by the letter but not in spirit.
He stood next to the bed again.
“Stay like this.”
He picked up the bathrobe he had dropped to the floor and put it back on. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the squashed tissue that he had thrown to the ground. Somehow it felt like an eternity had passed since then. He had faltered but not failed. He had overcome his guilt and he’d soon return from fasting to feasting.
He had left her purse with her clothes. It didn’t take him long to find her phone.
“Are you hungry? I’ll eat a snack before we continue. I recommend you do too. You’ll need your strength.”
Claire hadn’t lied to him. Her phone’s battery was indeed empty or with only 7% remaining at least close to empty. There was no chance that it would last for another 23 hours.
“Water…”
Claire seemed reluctant to ask him for anything. It was obvious to him that she didn’t want his help. So he understood why she could only bring herself to speak that one word.
“Sure, but you should eat something as well, trust me. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
Claire didn’t say anything in response. Mark pulled a charging cable for her phone out of a drawer.
“Is there anything you don’t like on your sandwich? Any allergies I should know about?”
Claire remained silent. Mark connected her phone to the recharging cable. The screen lit up in response. He wasn’t able to unlock her phone nor did he want to. But he could see a push notification for a new message Claire had received.
“Some guy named Eugene has sent you a message. Says that he’d like to take you up on your offer to go over last week’s exercise sheet some time next week. The message is from an unknown number though.”
He put her phone down and grabbed a water bottle.
“Oh, did you give him your number earlier in the bar? Do you like him?”
He had turned his back to Claire while he had looked for her phone. So he didn’t know how she reacted to his ramblings except for her silence.
“You know, I don’t know the guy, but if he’s willing to accept that you can help him with his math problems, then that’s a sign that he res…”
“SHUT UP!”
An intense scream filled with anger and desperation interrupted his advice for her. The unconcealed hatred in her voice made him flinch.
“YOU!… You raped me! And you’ll do it again! And if you decide to kill me,… even then there is nothing I can do about this!”
She was breathing heavily while shouting at him.
“You can do all of that and I can’t stop you! But you don’t get to talk to me about how I like my breakfast!”
She was just screaming at him. Without even looking at her, he was able to hear in her voice how desperately she was trying to hold back her tears until she finished her piece.
“You don’t get to ask me which boy I like! Because…”
He couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t face her.
“… you’re just an animal!”
Why did her words hurt him so much?
“There is NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING human about you!”
He gulped.
“So go ahead, keep violating me like the beast you are!”
His eyes were closed. He tried not to let her voice affect him. But she was taking away that feeling of victory he had basked in since he had come inside her.
“But don’t you dare think for a second that you get to have a human conversation with me as if… as if you were an actual person!”
With her voice finally breaking at the end, her assault on his psyche came to a close. He could hear her panting. He himself was trembling, holding onto the table in front of him. Of course he knew that she hated him, that she had every justification to hate him. But there is a difference between knowing something intellectually and understanding her hatred for him on a fundamental emotional level. Of course he could force her to engage in a quote on quote “normal” conversation with him. He’d just have to punch her often enough or hold a knife to her throat. But it would be a performance that would fool no one. It wouldn’t change what she felt and that was the problem. He was not hurt by what she said but by the feeling that her words conveyed.
He sighed. With a water bottle in one hand and the key to her cuffs in the other, he returned to her. She demonstratively looked away from him as he approached her. He put the water bottle down on the bed next to her head. Then he freed her wrists but not her ankles from her cuffs. Claire was visibly surprised but didn’t say anything.
“Do with your hands whatever you like, but stay in this position until I return. I’ll make us something to eat. I can’t stop you from changing your position while I’m in the kitchen, but I’ll chain your wrists back to the bed if my cum flows out of you in my absence.”
His voice sounded defeated, his once proud erection was long gone. He turned around and left the room, leaving Claire alone on the bed.
Claire was surprised at the sudden freedom of her hands and arms. It took her a moment to truly understand that she could actually move her arms now. When the thought finally registered with her brain, she hastily grabbed the water bottle, opened it and gulped down half of it in one go. Her throat had been so dry from screaming and crying. She put the bottle down on the bed, letting it lean against her body as if to make sure that it wouldn’t get out of reach. It was the only thing she had any control over right now. She couldn’t lose that.
She calmed down now that she was alone with her thoughts. She didn’t feel like herself. Her own body was foreign to her, like he had infected her with his essence, overwriting her claim of ownership to her body with his own in the process. She slowly raised her hands in front of her face. Her wrists were red and sore from her struggle against her cuffs, but they would be back to normal in a day or two. More striking were the blood stains on her palms. She took the bottle again and poured some of the water on her hands. She tried to clean off the blood, then wiped her wet hands on the bed sheet. She didn’t care that it got dirty with her blood this way. She felt the smallest amount of pain when she rubbed her palms against the fabric of the bed sheet. Now that her hands were clean, she could see the little cuts that her nails had left on her hands. Thankfully, they had stopped bleeding.
She slowly lowered her hands onto her face. Her hands were warm. Her fingers slowly explored her face starting with her forehead. Her fingertips traced the outline of her eyebrows, her nose, her lips, ears and jawline. Everything felt like she remembered it. She liked how gentle her own fingers felt in contrast to his.
Her hands wandered down over her chin onto her throat. She remembered how his hand had pressed her into the mattress, how she had felt him push down on her throat before he clasped her mouth shut. She had been so scared that he’d choke her to death then and there. With her fingers resting on her throat, she was able to feel herself swallow her own saliva as she gulped at the memory.
For the first time since she had woken up in this room, she actually felt a little cold. There was no more adrenaline fueling her body, her heart rate had returned to normal, sweat was drying on her skin. When her hands encountered her breasts on her downward trajectory, she realized that her nipples were hard from the cold. Mark hadn’t paid a lot of attention to her breasts yet, but she was sure he would sooner or later. The contrast between her hard nipples and the soft tissue of her breasts in her hand made her very aware how soft most of her body felt. If her body had been harder, bigger, stronger, would she have been able to prevent what had happened to her? For the first time in her life did the undeniable femininity of her body feel like a weakness to her. She had become a victim of his cruelty for being born a woman.
She could feel her heart beat. It was beating in a slow, steady and comforting rhythm. She rarely paid attention to it, but now she couldn’t get enough of it. She closed her eyes and immersed herself in its constant pulsing. Despite the horrors he had inflicted on her, her body still wanted to go on. Undeterred from what had happened, her heart kept quietly beating, comforting the hurt palm resting on her chest. ‘I’m still here.’ – that is what it was saying. Her will to live asserted its presence with every single beat.
She let her hands travel further down her body. Her hands came to rest on her vulva just above her clitoris. She was nervous, shivering from fear. What would she feel like between her legs? Rationally she knew that not much could have changed. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that his barrage of thrusts had mutilated her. Then she dared to let her fingers wander a little further and she felt… nothing special. The same softness of her lips that she was familiar with. Probing a little further, she came close to the entrance to her vagina. She discovered a bit of sticky wetness, a few drops of his cum that he likely left there when he had pulled out of her.
He had come inside her. She wasn’t too worried about getting pregnant. Her cycle was fairly regular and predictable. Her next period should start in two or three days. With sperm being able to survive five or six days at most inside of her, her next ovulation should be far out of reach for any of his sperm. Still, there was always the chance that something might disrupt her usual cycle. Nevertheless, a potential pregnancy wasn’t on the forefront of her mind. It was his cum itself. She couldn’t feel it, but she knew that it was there, brewing inside her. It marked her as his even in his absence.
She took a deep breath and let her right hand cover her lips in their entirety, gently shielding her vagina from further intrusions. She finally allowed herself to close her legs, pressing her thighs against her protective hand. She had reassured herself. Her body was still hers. It felt just like she remembered it. She couldn’t stop him from raping her. But she couldn’t allow him to take ownership of her perception of her own body. ‘I will survive this.’ With this steadfast resolution she braced herself for what was to come.
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As I said before, this chapter was difficult to write. But I think it works as a reset point for the story. I know that this might feel like a letdown to some since it doesn't have that intense focus on the rape itself as the previous chapter, but I believe that for the story to work some slow down was necessary.
