A Fantasy Too Far

"No, no don't, please no!" she begged as he pushed her down on her back, pinning her arms and pushing his cock inside her pussy once more. "Noooooo!" she wailed as he forcefully fucked her. She struggled in his grip while his hard member invaded her wet snatch over and over, deep and hard. Suddenly he flipped her over, pulled her ass up, and pushed her head back down into the mattress. She gasped as he forced her asshole open with his thumb. "Oh no no no not there, please not there!" she begged, and then screamed when she felt his cock pushing into her rear passage. His balls slapped against her cunt as he sodomized her repeatedly while she whimpered and moaned.

When he pulled out of her, he pulled her by the hair up to a kneeling position, and then stood up in front of her. He grabbed a nipple and pinched hard, making her cry out again. Immediately he stuffed his cock into her open mouth. On reflex she started sucking her own ass juice off the invading member, but then she remembered that a blow job during a rape is fraught with hazard. She bit down, not hard enough to cause injury, but enough that it was clearly intentional.

"Bitch!" he shouted, pulling her off of him by her hair. Another slap to the face sent her back down to the mattress. "Time for you to learn some obedience." He fastened her wrist cuffs to a ring on a rope and pulled her up via an overhead pulley. Then he fastened her ankle cuffs to either end of a spreader bar, forcing her crotch to be fully exposed. He adjusted the rope until she was just a little too high to be standing comfortably and secured it there.

He produced a leather flogger and started lashing her with it. It didn't hurt as much as an actual whip or a belt might, but it was still plenty effective. He circled around her, using it on her back, her thighs, and her ass, before gravitating more towards hitting her tits and pussy lips. "This is what happens to naughty little cunts!" he scolded as he beat her. She knew that some girls, the so-called pain sluts, got off on this type of thing, some even allegedly had difficulty reaching orgasm without some physical beating. For her, it just plain hurt. She flinched and yelped at every strike. And yet, she could feel her pussy getting damp. It was supposed to be unpleasant, it was punishment, after all. Each blow to her body was another assertion of his power over her. Is that how the pain sluts do it? Does the pleasure come from the pain itself or from the meaning behind it? Maybe even that distinction goes away after a while.

Finally he was satisfied and put the flogger away. He climbed up the stairs, not even letting her down. Even worse, the lights went out, plunging her into darkness. "Hey. Hey!" she called out, but didn't expect a reply. All she could do was fidget, standing there hung by her wrists, with only the sounds of her breathing and heartbeat as company.

This wasn't what she'd expected when she let him attack her again. She didn't want to be held as a slave in his basement, did she? Sure, it was a fetish theme she enjoyed, but what was the boundary between that and actual desire? A sexual fantasy is normally something you wish would happen someday. What do you call one you don't want? This wasn't a game like the roadside rape had been. No. Wrong. That hadn't been a game either. That was a real rape. She had thought she didn't want that to really happen either, but now she retroactively considered it the biggest sexual thrill of her life.

This new predicament was thrilling too, but she had a life, a job, responsibilities. She didn't really want to give that up, did she? No matter how horny the thought of it made her. The fantasy of it, like the stories with similar situations, was she projecting it too much on her new surroundings? In the end, did she want both, to keep the normal things in her life, and to have it all taken from her as a captive sex slave? That shouldn't even be a valid option. How does it make sense to want both? It wasn't up to her anyway. She was here, at his mercy. And dammit, not having that choice, regardless of whether she could make up her mind, that was turning her on too.

The lights came back on, and he descended the staircase. Whether genuine or just playing her assigned role, she said the expected thing, "Let me go, please. I swear I won't tell anyone." That earned her another hard slap to the face.

"Shut up, bitch," he sneered. Without another word he assembled a rig of poles and rope designed to keep a vibrating dildo stuffed up her pussy and another vibrator pressing against her clit. Once satisfied they were secure, he turned them on, then pulled up a chair and sat down to watch, stroking his cock along to the show.

The first orgasm came quickly. She wanted to withhold the satisfaction from him, but like it or not she was too turned on to last. Her body trembled as a low groan escaped her lips. "That's right, you slut, you know you want it," he taunted. The buzz of the two vibrators continued, and quickly built her back up to a second orgasm. The third took longer, but shook through her nonetheless, evoking a louder moan. After she came a fourth and fifth time, her pussy started to feel sore. The excess and nonstop stimulation was now painful, right up to the point where another orgasm ripped through her. After that she lost count. She couldn't stop herself from whimpering through the pain, and it built into a shriek when she came.

"Please, please, enough, make it stop," she pleaded. It was another two orgasms before he did, though. After removing the vibrators, he removed the spreader bar and unhooked her wrists. She couldn't stand, and as her legs gave out beneath her he directed her fall onto the mattress. She looked up at him from down there, and saw him take aim with his cock. A stream of urine came forth, spraying her with his warm golden shower. It made her feel dirty, in the fun way. A dirty little piss slut.

When the pee ran out, he started jacking off. It didn't take long before he sprayed an enormous load that he'd been building up. The jism fell upon her body, across her tits, one spurt even landing on her face. She gave a short involuntary moan, unable to restrain herself. She hurt all over, was covered in his fluids, and loved every minute of it. "That's a good girl," he said, and left, shutting off the lights again behind him.

When he next appeared, he tossed a large dog bowl on the floor and dumped a can of dog food into it. He pointed at it and commanded, "Eat."

"You're kidding, right?" she asked. She wasn't even trying to be defiant this time, she had genuinely been caught off guard. He grabbed her by the hair and shoved her face into the bowl.

"I said, eat, you cunt!" he shouted. He held her head down, and just to clear some space to breathe, she had no choice but to open her mouth and eat. As a point of fact, she was rather hungry. The dog food was high quality stuff, with chunks of genuine meat, almost like a thick stew. It still smelled and tasted horrible, though. When she finished off the dog food, he dragged her back to the mattress, held her down, and fucked her pussy. He had to slap her back down several times as she struggled against him. Finally he shot his cum deep inside, pulled out of her, and left.

It went on like that, he left her waiting in the darkness, then would suddenly appear, rape her, beat her, or both, and then he would vanish back up the stairs. She fought back every time, and every time it didn't get her anything but more abuse. She wondered how long she could endure it before her will was broken. That was usually the most erotic part of the story, the key moment, the climax, if you will: the point when the girl loses hope, gives up, surrenders, can no longer endure, when she decides that it is easier to let her captor have their way with her body than to be beaten down and forced again, better to obey than to take the punishment. After that, it's a much shorter mental leap to considering the desires of her captor before her own, to regard pleasing him as her main goal in life, sometimes even to lose sight of her own individuality as her journey to being a true fuck slave reaches its end. In a captive scenario, it's generally a long process of gradually wearing her down over weeks, even months of sustained abuse and trauma. The stories don't make you wait quite that long, though.

Her hand unconsciously drifted to her pussy, and she discovered it was sopping wet. Suddenly she realized what a stupid question it had been. If she was looking forward to being broken, wanting it to happen, then wasn't she in fact already there? From the moment he'd brought her into this basement she'd been playing along, acting out her role. It was what she expected of herself, the situation demanded that she behave accordingly. That's what made it erotic. But if this was her story, wasn't it within her power to skip ahead? Or would that be too unrealistic and spoil the mood, to give in after only... how long had she been here, anyway?

With no clock and no working windows, it was hard to say. She presumed she'd been dozing off continuously in the darkness as well. Wait, her meals, he had force fed her that dog food three times now. That meant it had probably been a day, give or take, which meant it was Saturday night or Sunday morning. That's right, it was Friday night when he took her. She had forgotten that until now. Could that possibly have been a coincidence? Given the weekend, it would be two days after she went missing before anybody even suspected something was wrong. Or else... could it be? If he'd intended the rape as a roleplay that he merely didn't let her in on until halfway through, was this the same thing? Just a weekend of kidnapping victim adventure before he sent her back to her normal life? Or was she fooling herself, constructing a false hope, and had nothing ahead of her but being chained up in this sparse basement?

Either way, she didn't want to wait anymore. No more faking it to sustain the fantasy, it was time to live the reality. Just one last bit of roleplaying for continuity's sake. The next time he came for her, she didn't fight back. She let him push her to the mattress, get atop her, and slide his hard meat into her waiting pussy. "That's right, slut, just take it. Take it good," he encouraged in response to her not resisting. She whimpered quietly and turned her head away to avoid looking at him while he fucked her. She tried to think of something else, a peaceful meadow, cute animals, something to take her mind off it. That was a typical coping mechanism in this situation. Though in her case, it wasn't to dissociate herself from the unwanted sex, it was to prevent her from enjoying it too much and giving herself away with loud moans and screams of passion. She could barely contain it when the orgasm hit her, her body shook as she held in the typical verbal accompaniment.

"There's a good little bitch," he said. He stood up, pulling her to her knees along the way. He pulled her face to his cock and shoved it down her throat. He skull fucked her deep and hard, slamming her face all the way against his crotch over and over. It really wasn't a pleasant thing. She reflexively tried to pull away, was unable to, and then remembered she shouldn't be trying anyway. She relaxed her throat as much as she could and let it happen. She tried to enjoy being used hard and painfully, but it still didn't feel good at all. Throats weren't built for this, at least, not without a good deal of practice. Finally his balls emptied into her mouth, filling it with the splendid taste of his cum. He eased his rod from her mouth, and said, "Swallow." She did.

At her next meal time, rather than shun her bowl, she approached it slowly, feigning reluctance, signifying the last vestige of defiance dying away, the packing away of her free will to where it couldn't hurt her anymore. She reached the bowl and ate eagerly. She felt him get down behind her and enter her ass, buttfucking her while she fed. When she finished, he pulled out and said, "Now clean this off." This time she devoured his cock, slurping her anal juice off of it. He dipped back into her rear passage several more times, back and forth between her ass and her mouth. Then he laid her on her back on the mattress and sat over her face, putting his asshole right to her mouth. "For your dessert, eat me," he ordered. "Oh God! Shit, yes!" he shouted out as he found out she was very good at licking ass.

From that point on, she didn't hide her enjoyment when he fucked her. She played the role openly of acceptance that her place was being his to use. When he ordered her into position for flogging again, she obeyed. This time he arranged the vibrators first, and flogged her while they worked their magic on her clit and inside her pussy. The combination drove her wild and her screams were many and varied. When he took her down he fucked her in all three holes and finished off by cumming in her pussy. She didn't have to playact the pleasure, that was completely genuine. She'd never before felt so splendidly used. After her sixth meal of dog food, she settled into the mattress, tired out from a day of vigorous and exhilarating sex slave fucking.

She awoke to the first rays of dawn coming in through her bedroom window. What? Her hand went to her neck to check, but she could already feel it, her collar was gone. So were her cuffs. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed, something she hadn't known was possible. The conflicting emotions roiled inside her. The tears started slowly, then she was suddenly bawling, sobbing, grateful to be free and yet missing her chain already.

- - -

CHAPTER 3

She pulled herself together in time to go to work like nothing ever happened. Just a normal Monday morning. She supposed that all things considered, she wasn't really cut out to be a basement slave for the rest of her life after all, but living out the fantasy of it would have been better if it had lasted longer. Though just like fairy tales and romantic comedies ending at the wedding, stories and roleplays of breaking the will of a kidnapped slave always stop after the exciting parts. The monotonous routine of the day-to-day slave life afterwards is almost never depicted, hardly ever mentioned, but it would have taken a little longer for those doldrums to have set in.

He did leave her with one thing. Her cell phone had a text message containing a photo of her lying naked on her bed, the collar and cuffs still in place. Obviously he'd drugged her food so he could bring her home uninterrupted and have free run of the place, including screwing the outside light bulbs back fully into their sockets. Whatever he knew about her before, he very well could know a lot more now, or her cell number at the very least. She had his as well, though it was probably just a burner phone. She couldn't bring herself to use it, either. The next move was his, as the previous ones had been.

She didn't have to wait long, though. On Friday evening she received another text message from him:

You are a recent divorcee. You cheated on your husband, a lot, but because your lawyer was so much better than his, he got royally fucked over in the settlement. The only reason he even got to keep the house is you didn't want it. You're meeting him allegedly in public tomorrow at 10am to pick up the rest of your stuff that you left behind.

Along with that was an address that resolved to an old industrial park. It was a perfect revenge scenario. The ex-wife character was just asking to be a victim of some horrific attack. It was the first time she had to be an active participant, to go somewhere, do something out of the ordinary. There was still no safe word set, no controls on her part. To keep safe, all she had to do was stay home. As her fingers slipped inside her panties and into her wet pussy, she wondered what he had planned. At this point, safe was out of the question. Having zero control over the situation was the scariest part, but was also the biggest turn-on. Lack of control was the core of the fantasy, after all. Is it truly being taken by force if you arranged it and can stop it at any time? Besides, even if she had a safe word, nothing so far would have warranted its use, so did not having one even matter? She needed to go, she needed to find out, she needed to suffer like this bitch ex-wife deserved.

She showed up at the appointed time, wearing an old dress that was something she wouldn't mind losing. It was the perfect site, half the units in the park were empty, and being the weekend there was noone else around. She knew she was in the right place, on the ground was the mattress she'd spent the previous weekend on. She got out of her car, walked away from it towards the mattress, and shifted into stupid bimbo cunt mode. "Hello? Honey? Where are you? I thought we were meeting at a mall or something. I swear to God if you sent me out here on a wild goose chase you'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

Four men wearing ski masks appeared from around the corner of the building. They looked like thugs. She felt her heart pound in her chest. A gang scene? That was a surprise, but a good one. Two of them even had darker skin, making for an interracial bonus. "Oh, you're in the right place, baby," said the man in the lead. "Your husband is real unhappy about how things went. He asked us to work your cheating ass over and make certain no man will ever want you again, no matter how much reconstructive surgery you have. But he told us to have some fun of our own with you first, one last hurrah for that pretty face of yours."

It was a bluff. It had to be, right? These guys were in on it somehow. What kind of psychopath would he have to be to drop her home safe the last time only to do this now? Then again, nothing about this had been sane since he started stalking her jogging run. One way or another though, her response was the same: she turned and ran for her car. She couldn't go very fast in her "fuck-me" high heels though, and they caught up to her easily. She screamed as one grabbed her in a bear hug, picked her up and carried her, then threw her down on the mattress.

The other three pounced on her and held her down while they ripped her clothes off and got their hard cocks out and ready to go. "Help! Help me! Nooooo!" she screamed while the first of them climbed on top of her, forced his hard member into her pussy, and pounded away fast and hard. She struggled but had no hope of getting the big bruiser off of her. He grunted as he unleashed his load of cum deep inside, then pulled out to make way for the next rapist. The next cock pushed in quickly and resumed where the first had left off. Here was the primary advantage to a gang bang or gang rape, plenty of guys to keep the action going while the others recovered, with all present hurling insults and slurs at her while she was used. Another burst of jism inside her and another fresh rod to replace the spent one. She'd never had to endure getting fucked for so long in one continuous go, and it was wonderful. She kept screaming for help, fortunately none came. Finally the fourth and final cock pushed into her triple-cream-filled pussy, ramming her hard. "Nooo, nooo, please," she whined as it filled her over and over and finally added its spunk to the mix inside her.

One of the other brutes was ready to go again, this time after he pushed into her pussy he grabbed hold of her and flipped over, positioning her on top of him. She immediately felt another attacker getting into position behind her, stuffing his cock into her asshole. She screamed out at the rough double penetration. "Hey man, get on in here," said one of them. In response to the invitation, the third grabbed a handful of her hair and maneuvered his meat right into her mouth, which she conveniently didn't close in time. He pushed all the way in, burying her nose in his hair and making her gag just a little, and then proceeded to skull fuck her.