Teri's ride home

[Neighbor]

Teaser: Teri is a model, and she had just finished a photoshoot as a bodydouble for a famous singer, and she thought the music video had turned out pretty well.
And that is where her story started...
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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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Index:

• Chapter 1 - The cab

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Title: Teri's ride home
Author: Written by "Neighbor", 2010
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Teri is a model, and she had just finished a photoshoot as a bodydouble for a famous singer, and she thought the music video had turned out pretty well.
And that is where her story started...

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(Pics created with SeaArt AI)
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Teri's ride home

Fantasy 1st Person Victim Account, One on One Rape

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Codes: MF Slow rape violence het rough BD

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Teri was tired, she still had makeup on, and she was still coming down from the coke the photographer had given her. Her husband would need dinner, and her kids were already home, and she impatiently flagged the cab down, tiredly watching it float to the curb, and it's large yellow door opened, and the cab swallowed her whole, for what she thought was her ride home.

Cabs are as boring as their back seat is cavernous, and she had slung her kit bag in before she climbed into the cab, the heavy bag having her professional tools, different modeling outfits and cosmetics. Of course the photography team had actually used their own cosmetics, so they hadn't needed any of her stuff. She rattled off her address to the man driving the cab, he was a big man, should be working on a dock unloading containers from ships or something, probably one of those who only use 10% of their brain, the other 90% occupied by testosterone, sports, and dirty pictures.

He said he understood, and knew where that was, in a whining voice he probably thought was friendly to a woman. Mr. Smooth. He probably was getting a thrill, as she knew she looked pretty hot. She WAS a model, and she had just credibly played the part of one of the world's top singers in the just-completed video-shoot, and in a day she had made as much money as her husband makes in 6 months. Put on a show for the cabbie, she thought, absently. She was medium build, her C-cup boulder-holders were lifting all-natural flesh, and she had damn well paid enough to see that they didn't sag, even if she WOULD be 30 next month. Gawd damn ageing, she said to herself, behind closed eyelids, still floating a bit, tiredly impatient for the last effects of the coke to wear off.

The cab had jerked to a stop, and her eyes flew open, instantly alert, and she instantaneously sized up the situation. For some reason, Mr. Muscle-for-brains Cabbie had stopped the car, and they were not where they were supposed to be. She saw overpass highway, she saw industrial area, off in the distance some homeless people milling around, too deserted for comfort, it felt like a rape-scene. She jerked the door of the cab open, and ignoring her kit-bag, she hit the ground running, and she set her eyes on the distant office-looking buildings, and she poured the coal to her running.

She suddenly felt good, she felt strong, and littered concrete streamed by her running shoes, and she looked back over her shoulder as she saw the large man running after her, and as loud as she could she yelled back at him, "FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD!" She sucked a deep breath of clean air in, and in slow motion her face turned to the direction she was running, and she had not seen the beer bottle on the concrete, and when her foot stepped on it, it rolled and her ankle twisted, and she felt a grip of horror as she saw the concrete coming up to meet, first her knees with a grinding that was scraping skin and the jeans over her knees, and then a wall of concrete smashing against her wrists, she felt palm skin being scraped and shredded, but the strength of her arms kept the approaching concrete from smashing into her model's face, the shadow of her hair showing that her flowing blonde hair was sticking out in all directions, frozen in time.

She felt the large ham-fisted fingers close around hair, and felt her head being jerked back and up, from the corner of her eye she saw the other fist approaching, and her last thought was "Oh fuck" as the lights went out, and there was no thought...

She was comfortable and she was happy, she was near the ceiling in some warehouse, looking down at the cabbie, who was bending over a tied-up woman, who had duct tape over her mouth, and seemed to be tied hand and foot, she looked up and there was light above, and the light warmly invited; she had to decide. The kids would miss her. She had to go back.

She couldn't move, she opened her eyes, she was bound hand and foot, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder, still covered by her dark overcoat, she could tell there was tape over her mouth. Her head hurt like hell, she felt sick and a bit dizzy. Her knees and the palms of her hands hurt, her hands were tied uncomfortably under her back and she couldn't tell if they were bleeding. She tried to raise her head, fighting the weakness and dizziness, trying to see if her knees were bleeding. The thought rushed in that she was in trouble, really "deep shit". She began trying to scream, "MMMPPPPHHHH" she yelled through the tape. She chuckled to herself, and thought, "I totally meant to yell 'Help! I'm being raped!'"

Large hands cupped her breasts, as if this ignorant bastard were trying to stimulate her breasts. "Hey asshole, those are worth more than you are!", she thought to herself. She shook her head, to clear it and to protest what he was doing without her permission, and "MMMPPPPHHHH! MMMPPPPHHHH" was all she could manage to say. "Shit." she thought, as she realized that the breast-flesh was reacting to this animal, and her nipples were beginning to pout beneath her sweater. "Right, give the fucker a come-on", she thought, "That'll keep him from raping you..."

One of his hands had rubbed it's stupid way down her stomach, and this animal was kneading her puss, and she felt another wave of revulsion as she realized that her body was reacting by itself today, not under her control, and she was actually getting wet. "DAMN YOU!" she mentally screamed at her body. This was really fucked up, like she was probably going to be raped, maybe murdered, maybe disfigured for life, and her gawd-damned body had decided to enjoy it!. Powerful fingers had opened the front of her jeans, and the bastard had reached down the front of her pants and was attempting to finger her. Her head was shaking from side to side, and she could only say, "MMMPPPPHHHH! MMMPPPPHHHH! MMMPPPPHHHH! MMMPPPPHHHH...", while a corner of her mind was grateful the bastard was too stupid to touch her clit, but seemed to be rubbing beside it. Again lucky he didn't seem to in a hurry to stick his dirty fingers and fingernails up into her, so she could get scratched up, or catch some disease ... "yet", it occurred to her.

The really fucked part was her body was reacting to his touch, and she was getting wet as hell, the crotch area of her jeans starting to feel like a pad-less onset of period. This was fucked, as if her body wanted to get raped by some mindless 6 foot-2 piece of muscle, some life support system for a prick. Her hips thrust to meet his hand, and to her horror her knees pulled apart, her conscious mind screaming it's protest silently in her brain. She pictured her husband Bill, and she thought, "Oh Billy, I'm so sorry...".

This bastard was pulling down her pants, and she had decided to fight, and she tried to kick with tied ankles, trying to move her legs in a running motion, but the ankle-ties held and she felt the jeans go past her knees and to her ankles. The cabbie stepped between her knees, and standing over her, he undid his pants,... and her heart sank. This guy was a freak. He had the largest prick she had ever seen, it looked like some plastic toy you'd see in a porn-toy store. "Fuck me" she thought. "He's going to use that gawd-damned thing on me..." Can we say, "Internal injuries?"

She began trying to kick past him, as he sank down towards her she tried to buck her hips, but his weight pinned her body flat, the uncomfortable concrete scraping coldly her butt just past the waist of her sweater. Her mind briefly flashed on the fact that she'd have to throw that sweater away. She suddenly became aware that it was time for the main event, as his huge and sickly-swollen fucktool was pushing against the lips of her puss. In some part of her mind, she realized there was nothing she could do to prevent this, as in some perverse way he almost gently pushed his monster-flesh into her.

There was pain. Flesh-ripping, bleeding, screaming pain. How could a sword piercing her stomach hurt worse? The monster cock was a slow-motion battering ram, smashing and tearing, then slightly retreating to soak up her blood and juices, then ramming forward into her shaking and struggling body, going ever deeper into her. Pinning her to the rough concrete beneath her body. Momentarily she teetered on the edge of fainting, then came back to herself, the terror, the pain, the feeling of being penetrated, of being ripped open. On and on it went, she had no sense of time passing, just the screaming pain of the here and now, her mind searching for any escape. She wondered if she was dying, was THIS what it felt like to be ripped apart, would she soon cease to be? How long could this continue? Was this minutes? Was it an hour?

Wryly she wondered if her damned hips had been, at times, pushing to meet his thrust, as her fucking knees had at times seemed to decide to squeeze his legs, where they were wrapped/tied around his thighs just below his butt. This hairy monster had stretched her insides, had tricked her body into going wet and pulling itself to him in her struggles, and again she thought, "Oh Billy, I'm sorry, please help me..." Then she pictured her two boys with regret, and then she began screaming mentally at her traitorous body as it had seemed like it might be rutting with this animal, her hips and her cunt seeming to try to push against him, bringing him further into her core.

Beneath her tape, she began cursing at him, and as she saw the fist coming at her face, she thought "Please don't let him take my modeling career away from me..." as the arriving fist seemed to shake the room around her, and when the fist returned a moment later, the light began to recede from the room. As she was fading away from the light, she was still was aware of her cunt being stretched, amazed that she could hold...

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The hospital room was sterile, and concerned faces of nurses peered at her from behind Billy's tear-stained face, the throbbing pain from below her hips, she could sense rather than really feel that Billy had a gawd-damned death grip on her hand. She looked at one of the cute concerned nurses standing beside her husband, and matter-of-factly informed the little bitch, mumbling "He's mine girl...", and the hospital lights faded again, and she slept...

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William stepped into the closet, to pick a shirt. His bulging neck and arm muscles required specially tailored shirts with large necks. He had strapped his pistol to his waist, he had just gotten home from the hospital, where they had told him his fresh-raped wife would fully recover in a month or so.

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Staring into space, he remembered her mumbled words about the cabbie.

William needed to go find that cabbie, he had a score to settle...

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Artie lay in bed that night, and thought back on the day. He had stolen the cab, and then left it later exactly where he had gotten it from. It was clean - there would be no fingerprints, the law would have a hard time identifying him.

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He pictured the frightened little blonde that had lain under his body. That tight little body.

He wanted it again. He had to have it. He lay on his bed, sleepy, and looked at the model's ID Card in his fingers. He read her address.
Tomorrow, he would start building a cage in the basement. And he'd stake out her home, find out what family she had. He licked his lips in anticipation, as the possibility of an adult daughter occurred to him. Wouldn't THAT be sweet. That tight little MILF's body, in his basement cage, lying next to an adult daughter...

Sleep crept on Artie, as the evening's first dream had him going to her home, after hubby left for work, and knocking on the door...

End of chapter 1
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(I have no current plans to modify/expand this story.)
Feedback is always welcome, as comments, suggestions, or questions.

[trio]

I think this one was still high on the coke and probably on other stuff too. Liked it a lot.

[Shocker]

I liked this story, but I have to say c cup boulder holder is a bold choice of words.

[chloevee]

I'm not sure if Teri is supposed to be sympathetic, but I kind of like her. I like that she immediately ran as soon as she could tell something was not right, and her inner voice ("Can we say, 'Internal injuries?'") was amusing. The (near?) death experience, where she is looking down on herself and her captor, was a really unqiue detail.

I couldn't quite understanding what her position was throughout the assault. How did her legs get tied around his thighs? I'm trying to picture that huge guy wriggling between her bound legs, and somehow I don't think that would work.

I also had a bit of a difficult time buying that her body was responding to the assault. I generally enjoy a victim getting off on her own rape, and I'm willing to suspend a fair amount of disbelief. But while she's experiencing the flesh-ripping, bleeding, screaming pain of this far too big cock ramming into her, I just have a hard time believing that her hips would be bucking.

Even so, I enjoyed the story and it seems like a good intro to an intriguing story.

[Neighbor]

I couldn't quite understanding what her position was throughout the assault. How did her legs get tied around his thighs? I'm trying to picture that huge guy wriggling between her bound legs, and somehow I don't think that would work.

I also had a bit of a difficult time buying that her body was responding to the assault. I generally enjoy a victim getting off on her own rape, and I'm willing to suspend a fair amount of disbelief. But while she's experiencing the flesh-ripping, bleeding, screaming pain of this far too big cock ramming into her, I just have a hard time believing that her hips would be bucking.

I wrote the story in about 2008. I JUST created an "AI" pic of the cabbie, a day or so ago.
Teri's ankles are tied (in fairness, there is no mention of the distance between her ankles, only that they are tied).
The cabbie originally was described as stepping between her knees (maybe kicking them apart), and then falling to his knees (still between hers), and pulling her butt towards him, lifting (thus her ankles ride up the back of HIS legs).

I apologize for ANY discomfort with the woman who is being assaulted, commenting on her "unlikely" bodily reactions. It seemed the fashion back when I first started writing at Ravishment University, like I said, about 2008. I did not, admittedly, spend any time attempting to re-write this old story. (Nor do I have any current plans to expand the story)

Neighbor

[chloevee]

Teri's ankles are tied (in fairness, there is no mention of the distance between her ankles, only that they are tied).

Ah, I had assumed they were tied together! I still can't entirely picture the scene, but that mistake was my bad.

I apologize for YOUR discomfort with the woman who is being assaulted, commenting on her "unlikely" bodily reactions.

That comment was intended as friendly feedback--I was not uncomfortable. I hope my comments didn't bother you.

[Neighbor]

That comment was intended as friendly feedback--I was not uncomfortable. I hope my comments didn't bother you.

If you're not uncomfortable, and I'm not uncomfortable...

... and if you like watching a rape, then I'd be tickled to help out in any way I can.

The third from the last paragraph at the end of Teri's narrative, "There was pain. ...", was a recent addition and not part of the original story. I felt a bit more of Teri's narrative was needed, as her narrative was so short. You made me aware that it threw the surrounding paragraphs "out of balance". I made some minor changes, since, to try to reduce that dissonance.

Also, the Pic, of a sumo wrestler-looking guy, legitimately would make somebody doubt the mechanics of "stepping between her knees", so I asked the AI to put him on a bit of a diet, and he has subsequently shrunk a bit.

[RapeU]

Some of the thoughts she had made me think "WTF this wouldn't be what someone would think in this situation. Did I miss something early on?"

I had to reread and turns out I missed that she was coming down from doing coke. So, in this instance odd and unusual works because she was under the influence of drugs. Overall good story.