You (my version - tribute to Claire)

[LaLia]

The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.

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The cool October air caresses your skin as you keep your rhythm. Your footsteps echo on the damp gravel path that winds through the sprawling park. It is late evening and only a few people are about - the odd walker, their silhouettes blurred in the mist in the distance. The street lamps cast pale light on the autumn leaves that lie on the ground in shades of gold and rust. You take a deep breath. The air is fresh, slightly damp, with a hint of the onset of frost - the smell of wet leaves and the water of the nearby lake is in the air.

The park is huge, a labyrinth of winding paths, dense groups of trees and open meadows. An idyllic place during the day, but now, in the dark, it seems strange and eerie. The trees loom around you like dark sentinels, their branches leafless, bare, twisted into long fingers in the darkness.

You concentrate on your breathing. In, out. In, out. Your body is warm, jogging keeps you moving, keeps your thoughts busy. And yet...

A feeling creeps up inside you. A tug in the back of your neck, a slight tingling down your arms, an ice-cold shiver. It's not the cold that makes you shiver. It's something else.

You feel like you're being watched.

A quick glance over your shoulder. Nothing. Just fog creeping over the paths and swallowing the darkness.

You force yourself to keep running. Maybe you're just imagining it. You're alone, you know that. You haven't seen anyone following you. And yet this unpleasant feeling remains, this invisible weight on your back, as if someone were looking at you.

Your pulse quickens - and not just from running.

The path leads you closer to the lake. The water lies still, a black, reflective surface in which the lantern lights are lost as blurry patches. The mist lies heavy over the bank, creeping over the damp earth as if it had a life of its own.

A sound.

A soft crack somewhere behind you.

You stop abruptly. Your breathing is rapid, your muscles tense. Your eyes search the darkness, but there is only silence. A silence broken only by the hooting of an owl.

Was someone there?

You listen. Your own blood rushes in your ears, the only other sound is the gentle lapping of the water as a light breeze ruffles the surface.

You force yourself to keep walking. Slower now. Your heart beats violently against your ribs as if it were a rhythm of its own, detached from your will.

Another sound - footsteps.

This time you are sure.

Your stomach tightens, your hands clench into fists. You turn around abruptly.

Nothing. Just the fog.

But your instinct screams that you are not alone. That there is someone there, hidden between the shadows of the trees, invisible but close.

Are you following me?

The words form in your head, but you don't say them. Instead, you start moving again. Faster. Your breathing is shallow, your legs suddenly feel heavy.

The path forks in front of you. On the left, it leads deeper into the park, into a dark group of trees. On the right, it circles the lake and eventually leads back to the busier street.

Where to?

You hesitate, but only for a moment. Then you decide.

For the safer route. You turn right, your steps continue to accelerate. Your body is now full of adrenaline, every muscle tense. You want to get out of here.

That sound again. Closer.

You're walking now. Running. Your breath is gasping, your shoes are hitting the gravel path. The fog around you is getting thicker, distorting the world, making everything unreal.

You look over your shoulder.

There!

A movement in the fog.

Your heart stops for a moment, your pulse races.

You run even faster, your body screams for air, but you ignore the burning muscles. Just get out. Just get away.

The road comes into view. The distant light of cars. Voices. Safety.

You sprint, your legs are shaking, your head is pounding.

Then you reach the street lights. And you stop.

Your breath is coming in gasps.

Slowly you turn around.

The park is quiet.

There's no one to be seen.

Just fog. And silence.

But there...

Your breath is shallow as you see the silhouette approaching. The man moves calmly, almost deliberately, but every step seems to carry an inescapable threat. His hood is pulled down over his face, hiding his features - but you feel his gaze, as if it were penetrating you, as if he had known you for a long time.

Your body tenses. Your heart is pounding against your ribs, your fingers are shaking slightly as you try to think clearly. Instinctively you turn around, your gaze darting to the bridge. Only a few more meters, then the gate - the exit from the park, out into the safety of the street.

Run!!!

The thought screams in your head and your legs start moving. You feel the damp earth under your soles, hear the rustling of the leaves, the gentle trickle of the stream under the bridge. The fog has settled thicker over the landscape, swallowing up sounds, distorting the world into an unreal twilight.

Behind you - faster steps.

Faster now. Your breath burns in your throat, your body pushes forward. The gravel crunches under your feet as you rush towards the bridge. Just a few more meters.

Then - a shadow in the darkness.

A second man. Right in front of you.

Your body reacts before your mind can comprehend it. You stumble back, your heart racing. His silhouette is broader than the other's, more massive. And he waits. As if he knew you had no choice.

Surrounded. Panic shoots through your veins. Your eyes dart back and forth, looking for a way out. But the bridge is narrow, the steep banks of the stream too slippery to jump off.

Behind you - a quiet crunch.

You turn around abruptly, just in time to see the first man moving towards you. Slowly. Carefully.

Not a word.

Just the fog, the cold - and the inevitable threat that is coming closer.

And then you feel their hands reaching for you greedily and purposefully. Powerful, leaving you no chance as they push you to the ground.

The cold of the earth creeps under your clothes before one of the men pulls your sweatpants down. You want to leave, you want to pull yourself together, make it the last few meters to the safety of the street, when you feel your panties slipping off your body.

Desperation and fear are spreading more and more within you. It doesn't take much imagination to know what these two men want. They want you! Here and now, they will rape you. Your whole body tenses as the weight of one of the men rests on you.

Help...

Your scream echoes through the night, but unheard, fading in the noise of the city as you feel the hard member. You look for a way out, a rescue, a way to escape these two men. But there is none; you realize this at the latest when he penetrates you and his panting brushes your ear.

But it is not just this man who wants your body. The other has now positioned himself in front of you and is forcing his way into your mouth. No matter how much you fight back, they show no mercy and you are overcome with fear of death.

Tears fill your eyes as you open your lips brokenly and the second cock is inside you. They start to fuck you, to use you on the wooden bridge.

You are just a victim, a plaything of their increasingly harder thrusts.

Your body is like an empty shell, whose will has dissolved into the fog and allows itself to be raped here.

Time seems to stand still. Seconds stretch into an eternity while the heavy breathing of the men is the only thing that roars in your ears.

You are trapped.

Your breathing is in gasps, shallow and choppy, as if you can't get enough air. A shaky gasp escapes your lips, first quietly, then a little louder, a strangled sound that gets caught in your throat. Your shoulders shake, your body bends slightly as if you want to protect yourself, but the fear doesn't leave you alone.

A quiet whimper comes from your throat, uncontrolled, almost pleading. Your lips tremble, open as if you want to say something - but no word comes from your trembling lips, between which the large cock moves back and forth. Your gaze darts frantically back and forth, searching, hoping, but nothing offers you security. Tears burn in your eyes, your fingers dig into the wood of the old bridge so hard that your knuckles turn white.

A shiver runs down your spine as your whimper turns into a quiet sob. Your body trembles incessantly, your breath comes in short, panicked gasps. Almost synchronized with the jolts that penetrate you, that cause you pain and keep you on the ground.

You want to call, want to scream - but your voice fails. All that remains is the quiet, broken whimper of a woman who knows that she is completely at someone's mercy in this moment.

The men are racing towards their climaxes, only seconds away from filling you with sperm.

But then, frightened and drenched in sweat, you open your eyes...

A dream? A bad and dark dream!

But wait...

You feel this definite tingling and as you uncertainly run your shaking hands between your legs, you feel that you are wet.

"I should go jogging." You whisper to yourself as you exhale, realizing your excitement more and more.

[Vela Nanashi]

Good senses and environmental descriptions. Also that sense of being watched, I know that one. I can see and hear and even smell this place.

Time to sprint maybe, is what my impulses tell me, down that right path, good sprinting.

Stopping though, I get it, but while having the adrenaline rush, run, don't stop.

That fucker knows he can catch up after adrenaline runs out, toying with you.

Oh he is not playing fair, should be no need for two men.

Yeah probably safer to submit to surrender, as two men will have their way, and hope they let you go after.

This is rough I connect with her, the protagonist of this story, heart racing fingers tingle... Hard to call out with a cock gagging your throat too, and the fear that they will beat you silent if you try.

Lol only a dream ending eh? Let's hope it is not a premonition.

Good work, sorry for not being more detailed, just got swept up in the feelings when I connected to her. Keep on writing good stories

[Claire]

Lia, I don't know how to rate this, this is not fair! You making this a tribute to me makes me all emotional and weepy...

Reading the English version of this, it still feels as claustrophobic as the first time I read this. And it made me realize that we miss a "scared"-reaction. I really would like to see you embed that kind of panicked chase scene in a larger narrative. You could use that to great effect.

[LaLia]

Good senses and environmental descriptions. Also that sense of being watched, I know that one. I can see and hear and even smell this place.

Time to sprint maybe, is what my impulses tell me, down that right path, good sprinting.

Stopping though, I get it, but while having the adrenaline rush, run, don't stop.

That fucker knows he can catch up after adrenaline runs out, toying with you.

Oh he is not playing fair, should be no need for two men.

Yeah probably safer to submit to surrender, as two men will have their way, and hope they let you go after.

This is rough I connect with her, the protagonist of this story, heart racing fingers tingle... Hard to call out with a cock gagging your throat too, and the fear that they will beat you silent if you try.

Lol only a dream ending eh? Let's hope it is not a premonition.

Good work, sorry for not being more detailed, just got swept up in the feelings when I connected to her. Keep on writing good stories

That was quite detailed

I felt the same way about feeling connected while writing. These are the kinds of stories you can easily immerse yourself in. Dark park, alone, strange noises...everyone knows that.

Lia, I don't know how to rate this, this is not fair! You making this a tribute to me makes me all emotional and weepy...

Reading the English version of this, it still feels as claustrophobic as the first time I read this. And it made me realize that we miss a "scared"-reaction. I really would like to see you embed that kind of panicked chase scene in a larger narrative. You could use that to great effect.

I definitely have that in mind for a first-person story, so you can really do more with it.

And somehow you've triggered a crossover hype with your story. Three times a you story.

What did you actually mean with your rating post? "1 point...? 3... points? Lia! Why are you doing this to me?!" ... a blond moment on my part.

[Claire]

What did you actually mean with your rating post? "1 point...? 3... points? Lia! Why are you doing this to me?!" ... a blond moment on my part.

I was making a (half) joke that you tributing this story to me made me so emotional that it is hard for me to assess the story fairly or at least somewhat unbiased. Just a desperate attempt to be cute and funny. But let me say it genuinely: It's a nice feeling to have inspired someone to write a story. It means a lot!