“Breathing is a habit, that is very hard to break. You have a choice to make, you can cooperate, or I will tighten the noose around your neck even more. Do you understand me?”
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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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- This story ist part of the Used and Abused Tournament
- It competes against History Repeating in the SF match
- Theme: Old habits die hard
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The Woman in Red
It was 9 o'clock in the evening, when she walked into the bar of Donnely’s. Others might use words like gliding in or passing by as if she was a model on a runway. I’m a simple guy, for me, she walked. For a few moments I forgot my beer, and I watched her, and was certainly not alone in doing so. She was a dream in red, a bright red dress, that looked like it was painted onto her generous figure. The tresses or of strawberry blonde hair that fell onto her shoulders, and the downright gorgeous legs striding towards a chair at the bar, in pumps the exact shade of her dress.
She settled on the chair, and it took a few minutes until the barman bent down to her and asked her quietly something nodding to another patron at the bar. Apparently inquiring about what she was drinking as the gentleman was buying. She smiled, revealing not only a set of pearly white teeth, but provided also a look at her cleavage. I was betting she hadn’t paid for a single drink in her life, or at least not since those breasts had made an entrance. She assumed others would pay for her, and evidently she was right in that assumption.
Her drink of choice arrived, by the looks of it a Martini, and no sooner had the glass made contact with the bar, the man who had paid for it materialized next to her, striking up a conversation. He was well-dressed, in his forties, hairline slightly receding, but generally fit looking. I was too far away, to hear their conversation in the crowded pub. But then again I didn’t need to. He surely made a flattering comment on her looks, or asked her the profound and novel question if she came here often. I could see in her eyes, that her reply would be polite but non-committal. The lady appreciated the drink, but all it would buy the hopeful suitor, was a bit of conversation. To me this perfectly obvious, but perhaps not to him as he tried to cop a feel. He received a literal slap on the wrist and was sent packing.
As he trundled off I wondered if he had believed her to be at the bar in a more professional fashion. Some men had difficulty recognizing the difference between a high class hooker and a woman dolled up to have a good time. In my mind this one was the latter, the pertinent question was how much of a good time? I wouldn’t kick her out of my bed, or only her legs at opposite sides. Without a doubt we could spend many pleasurable hours together. It all came down to the odds. I know my looks and strengths, so when it comes to picking up women, I’d be successful in two out of five cases. Buying a couple of drinks for her would improve my chances to perhaps three out of five. She had rejected the banker, she might have something for bad boys. So my chances where slightly better than 60% about a coin flip to be honest. And that only if she was planning to get laid. If not all I would get for the effort would be a lighter wallet, to be frank I didn’t care for those odds. So I just continued to watch her over the rim of my beer.
For the next hour, I kept my eye on her, as she kept teasing the surrounding men, drinking several Martinis and hustling some poor college kids at pool. She was a solid player at best, but very few men can shoot straight, when such a lovely ass is raised into the air, or a woman with deep cleavage is bending over to take a shot. I wasn’t even get a full view of her, yet she had a profound impact on me. I desired her, there was a longing in me to possesses her, to see that cool composure vanish under my pounding thrusts. To fill her first with my manhood and then my seed. She had sent all suitors that had approached her tonight packing, so it was my coin flip against her 100% resolve of not spreading her legs tonight. Not odds I intended to bet on. So if the odds where not in my favor, I had to change the circumstances. I was not in the habit of hearing no as an answer, and one way of avoiding this was not asking in the first place. A couple of bills on the counter settled my tab and I left the bar.
The night was warm, and I settled myself in the recess of a store entrance on the opposite side of the street. The shadow was entirely concealing me from casual observers. About forty minutes later the door opened and she stepped into the night. I tensed and waited for what she would do next, she could walk to the right or left or raise her hand to flag a cab. The way she had been drinking, the idea of her driving herself home was out, so if she was leaving by car it would be a cab or an Uber. If that was her plan, all of mine would be moot. I saw her turning to the left and walking off into the night. The beauty of living in a fairly small town. I simply couldn’t see a woman walking alone through the night in on of the big cities of the world. My gamble had been on the hope that she was living somewhere close by. It seemed to be a habit of hers, to not spend her own money on anything. If my plan worked she would pay dearly for being so frugal.
I stepped out of the shadow and began to follow her on my sided of the street. The trick with following somebody at night, was not to get to close to them. Staying on the other side of the street would allay any real fear on her side. In movies, you always see the pursuer slowly creeping behind his prey, but let me tell you, that will make her only suspicious. I increased the speed of my steps and soon had drawn even with her, ultimately passing her by. I never turned around to her, relying on the even tap – tap – tap of her heels on the sidewalk to tell me where she was.
At a crossroad I jaywalked to the other side, now being perhaps a hundred yards ahead of her. I have grown up in this part of town, so I knew about a little back alley that would branch of this road. Behind me the reassuring tap – tap – tap of her heels. I looked ahead and couldn’t believe my luck, the streetlight in front of my target was flickering erratically being out more often than on. I slowed my steps to reduce the noise my own footsteps made, as I didn’t want her to wonder why they suddenly stopped. After 4 Martinis I didn’t think her powers of observation were all there, but self-preservation might be still at work in her.
I sidestepped into the alley and pressed my back against the brick wall. My hands opened the clasp of my belt and I drew it out, and formed a loop with it. Confident that my pants would stay up, I waited. Tap – tap -Tap her steps grew nearer. I felt the adrenaline rushing into my body. This was just another hunt, and my prey was ready to be bagged. Forcing myself to breath calmly, I listened with full Concentration. She should be moving past the mouth of the alley any moment.
Tap – tap I took a deep breath.
Tap, there it was the moment when the approaching sound changes to one moving away. The streetlight flickered on, and for a moment I saw her in front of me walking away.
I made one lunging step, throwing the belt loop over her had and around her throat and pulled it tight. She screamed, or at least tried to. It’s amazing how much a constricted throat will muffle a scream. I pulled her into the alley. Pinning her face-first into the brick wall, knocked the remaining air out of her. She began to gasp for air, her fingers trying to claw underneath the sturdy leather of the belt.
I pressed into her, the pulsating hardness of my erection firm against her body, no point in not letting her know what was coming. Putting my face close to her, I whispered into her ear.
“Breathing is a habit, that is very hard to break. You have a choice to make, you can cooperate, or I will tighten the noose around your neck even more. Do you understand me?”
I made absolutely no attempt to disguise my voice. She had never met me before, and despite what you see on TV, a whispered voice is almost indistinguishable from another.
With my body so close to her, I did feel her nod, even if I could not see it.
“Good no that we have an understanding. Here is what is going to happen next. Take off your panties!”
She stiffened at the command. Oh, she knew I wanted to fuck her, but instead of a raving lunatic ripping her clothes of, she was forced to participate, and hated it. I grabbed her by that beautiful strawberry blonde hair and pulled with the other hand the noose tighter. Just a tiny bit, but the resistance almost immediately left her.
I felt her hands struggling with the hem of her dress, I heard the rustling of fabric and a something soft hitting my foot. As a sign of good faith I reduced the pressure of the noose, and she greedily sucked in air into her deprived lungs. I steered her deeper into the alley, causing her to step out of her discarded underwear. We stopped next to some trash bins.
“That was step number one, now I want you to open my pants and get my cock out.”
If there had been thoughts of resistance, a slight tug at the belt immediately crushed them. She reached behind herself and began fumbling with the button and zipper of my pants, letting them slide down my thighs, followed shortly by my shorts. I enjoyed how she cringed when my hardness brushed along her fingers.
The hand that had held her by the hair, moved south. Her tits felt almost as good as they had looked. I reached into her neckline, and coaxed them out of the dress one at a time. The heavy globes of flesh felt incredibly good in my hand.
“Pull up you dress!” I ordered, reinforcing the command by another tightening of the noose.
I could feel the hatred and defeat radiating from her body, but I also felt the hem of her dress rising, until my cock lay nestled between the cheeks of her bum. My hand continued the exploration and I felt a veritable pelt of curls between her legs. Groping in it, until I found her pussy. Pinching it, which caused her to jump up a bit.
“Looks like you did not go out to get laid, with all this wilderness down there. You just hustled all those men for their money. Well sister, that’s over now. You get another choice to make. In a moment I will allow you to bend over, and you then may put my cock inside you. Cunt or ass, I don’t really care, but I’ll tell you it will go in all the way so choose wisely.”
There were some guttural noises coming from her mouth, it might have been pleading. I didn’t really care, she clearly had too much air to work with, so I corrected that. The pleading turned into a renewed grasping for air.
I felt her leaning forward, and allowed her the movement, by following with the hand holding the belt. My hand returned to her breasts now dangling freely, as she was bending over a lot. She must have come to the decision, that being raped in the ass was not for her. I felt her hand at my shaft, guiding the head in almost complete darkness towards her sex. In this light conditions, I would have a hard timing aiming, it, but she knew the way around her body quite marvelously.
Once I was firmly lodged against the entrance of her pussy, I released the pressure on her throat and began pushing forward. I believe to be pretty average in size, perhaps a bit thicker in girth, but in no way a monster cock. But with the dryness of her pussy, she didn’t want any of the seven inches. She wriggled and squealed all the way in. So I pulled the noose tight again.
What happened next was a genuine surprise to me, as the noose tightened around her throat she clenched up, with her whole body. My cock was suddenly in a very tight embrace inside her. It was like fucking a virgin. I allowed her some air again, while pounding into her. For balance, she had braced herself against the lid of one of the trash bins, and we made quite a bit of a racket. The folks in the houses around surely attributed it to alley cats.
Fucking her pussy felt wonderful. I enhanced the experience for me, by repeatedly making her clench up again. But all good things must come to an end, and cum I did, spraying my seed deep inside her, while pulling the noose tight.
When I withdrew from her and released her from the belt she collapsed like a marionette with cut strings. I checked her for a pulse, found it and left her with the other refuse in the alley, sure of her pussy leaking my deposit.
At the mouth of the alley, the light had another of it’s short spasms of being on, and I saw her panties lying on the ground. I picked them up as a souvenir, admittedly curious what kind of color they might be. I had a strong suspicion, but one never knew. After all at night all cats are gray.
The end.
