Coronation Street Fantasy Ch. 02

Liz McDonald lasted three days before she called Deidre. "I've got to talk to you. Rover's, half-six."

When Deidre arrived at the appointed time, she found Liz huddled in her seat, chain-smoking, two empty glasses in front of her and a third on its way. Her face was hollow, drawn and there were dark circles under her eyes. Without looking up, Liz began. "I don't know what to do. I can't sleep. I can't eat. All me waking hours are just spent thinking about him. Thinking about what he, what we, did."

"Liz, I understand," offered Deidre.

"Understand? Understand?" Liz's face snapped up, glaring. "I bet you fucking understand all too well! You and him set me up!"

"Shush, Liz, calm down," said Deirdre in a low voice, sitting down opposite Liz.

"You fucking calm down! You knew, you must have known! You knew the effect it'd have on me, didn't you?" Liz's voice was lowered to a hiss. "I'm going out of my mind!"

"Liz, honestly, I know exactly what you're going through. Look, let me guess. At first you were hurt, shocked and scared, yes? But then you started getting, how can I put it? 'Feelings', didn't you? Deep inside, wherever Rafiq'd been in you? Am I right?" Liz nodded dumbly. "And you're permanently horny, aren't you?" Liz nodded again. "And even though you hate the bastard, you want him all the time. don't you?"

Liz' eyes widened. "How do you know this stuff" she asked.

"Because I've been there. Because I was exactly the same as you after I first met him. Look, I know, I admit it, I set you up and I misled you. I didn't explain everything about when I first met him. Well, I didn't explain a bloody lot if the truth be told. But I promise you I'm going to be completely honest with you now." Liz made a snorting noise."

"Liz, please, just hear me out. It'll explain everything and hopefully by the end of it you'll be in a better position to decide what to do next."

"'Do next'? I haven't got a bloody clue what to do next! I can't even think straight!"

"Then just listen." Deidre took a large gulp of her drink. "It was when I'd gone off on holiday, like I said. I was fed up, feeling unloved and well and truly over the hill round here. I thought that a fresh scene might snap me out of it but by the end of the first week I was feeling even worse. I don't know what I thought I was expecvting or really who I was trying to kid, but night after night I just sat at that bloody hotel bar, getting pissed. One night I caught sight of myself in a reflection and I really thought that was it: just a plain, middle-aged frump in a dress too short for her age. I could have cried right there and then. Anyway, I sat down as usual at the bar, ready to drown my sorrows and just wait until it was time to come back home. I really can't tell you where or when he turned up, but suddenly, he was just there, Rafiq, sat next to me. He introduced himself, offered to buy me a drink and although I didn't know him from Adam, we got chatting. I must say, I was flattered, but I didn't think for a second he'd be interested in me in any way, he was young, fit-looking and drop-dead gorgeous. I just couldn't take my eyes off him though and you can imagine the thoughts that were going through my mind. then -and I think this is the crucial bit- he leaned forward and put his hand on my thigh, just as a casual gesture on the face of it. But, and I'm embarrassed to say it even now, I was already dripping wet. I put my hand on his and pulled it further up. Honestly, what was I thinking? I really thought he'd just make his excuses and leave, but he didn't. Instead he just slid his hand all the way up me, you know, inside me. I practically fainted with the feeling and that was it, I was away! I think he had to half carry me out of the bar, I must have looked a right sight: this half-drunk British woman slobbering all over this handsome young local stud. I didn't care though, right then all I wanted in the world was to get him back to my room and just let him do what he wanted to me!

"We got to the lift and once inside he was all over me, my mouth, my boobs, knickers pulled to one side and his hand grinding into me. Honestly, I think if anyone had walked in we'd have been arrested." Liz imagined the scenes in still snapshots: the first glances at the bar, big smiles, lots of eye contact, Rafiq's hand on Deirdre's thigh, her eyes half closed as he fingers her pussy. Inside the lift, Deirdre's face contorted into a grimace of pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open, with Rafiq's hands all over her, skirt up to her waist, thrusting herself down on his hand.

"We got to my room and I just went straight down on him, no words, nothing, I was just greedy for every last inch of him and good god, what a shock I got when I saw the size of him! But I just swallowed down on it like I was starving, which, by then I was!"

"I'll bet" said Liz, spitefully.

"He came pretty quickly and I have never known so much cum! It was just dribbling out of my mouth, I could barely swallow it all down. It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest though, he just pulled me up and practically threw me onto my back on the bed, my legs were wide open and he just pulled them even wider as he positioned himself over me. Only then, only at that moment did I have a doubt as to what I was doing, with this, this stranger about to enter me. But then he did and, ooooooh, the feeling! It was like nothing I'd ever known before! It felt so good I could hardly believe it! He was fucking me, well and truly fucking me! Deep, deep inside me, all the way in, sliding all the way into me, deeper and deeper! And me, I was just a randy, rabid little slut for it, grabbing and scratching him all over, wrapping my legs around him, pulling him deeper and harder into me."

Deirdre stopped abruptly.

"Go on," said Liz, a hardness to her voice, "though I bet I can guess what happened next."

"That's when he did it," continued Deirdre flatly, "without saying a word, he just turned me over and raped me. Anally raped me."

"Painful, was it?" Liz sneered.

"Very." replied Deirdre.

"Good!" Liz snapped.

"He forced my head down into a pillow, pulled my arms behind my back and just had me. I'd never been taken there before, never, it hurt so much I thought he was tearing me in half. And he just kept pounding at me, driving himself further and further into me. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, all I could do was bite down on the pillow and just pray, pray that it'd be over soon. I wouldn't have bothered if he'd killed me, anything, just to stop that pain!"

Deidre paused.

"Then what happened?" asked Liz.

"Then? Then he just left. Just left, closing the door behind him. I don't know how long I just lay there, rolled up in a ball. My mind was in turmoil, I didn't know what to do. Should I call the police? On what evidence? Half the bar had seen me falling all over him, who knows who else had seen us getting out of the lift, and as for the racket we were making before he... well, it'd have been laughed out of court. So I just lay there, sobbing. But after a while... "

"The feelings?"

"Yes. Exactly. In spite of myself, I started touching myself, probing and pushing into myself where he had, imagining it was him, doing it to me, over and over again. Before I knew it I was moaning and writhing about, just wanting and aching for him to be inside me again. I was ashamed, humiliated and disgusted, but all I wanted was for him to do it to me -all of it- over and over again. And that's how you feel now, isn't it?"

Liz nodded, sucking hard on her cigarette. "So what happened?"

"Three days is what happened. Just like you. Three long, empty days and even longer, empty nights. All the time, thinking about him, wanting him, every second, burning with lust for him. Wanting anything, anyone to be in me. On the second evening I even managed to get off with this young lad, I just threw myself on him basically, I let him drag me off down to the beach in the middle of the night. He fucked me but he was rubbish and only lasted a minute. I went back to my room and just fingered myself stupid for the rest of the night, using anything a hair brush, shampoo bottle, anything, just imagining it was him.

The third evening, I'd just resigned myself to staying in. What was the point? But then, I got a text on my phone. No name and no return number."

"From him? Rafiq?"

"Yes, him. Don't ask me how I knew, but I was just certain of it -that, or else I was by then just so desperate."

"What did it say?"

"It just said: 'Get taxi', then an address and then a list of what to wear."

"You what? What to wear?"

"What to wear. It said, high heels, mini-skirt, wide belt, tight, low-cut top. The weird thing was, I'd packed exactly these clothes. What was weirder though was I'd no idea how he'd got my number.

"Anyway, I got dressed as instructed and I have to say, tarty doesn't even come into it. I must've looked like a bargain-basement hooker, even so, I didn't hesitate to order a taxi. When it arrived and I got in, this grubby little old bloke driving it couldn't take his eyes off me, mind you I reckon he could see straight up my skirt through the mirror. Anyway, we pulled up at this backstreet little club, cafe type of place and the driver got out, opened the door for me and led me to the entrance. I offered to pay him, but he just put his hand up and said something I couldn't understand, then took me by the arm and led me through the door to the place. Honestly, if I thought it was a dump from the outside, that was nothing to how bad it was on the inside. It was so dark and dingy I could barely see but as my eyes got used to it I could make out a crappy little bar and in the centre of the tiny room, a pool table, that was the only light that was on. the place reeked of dope. Then I realized I wasn't alone. In fact all of a sudden I could see at least a dozen people -all men- standing, sitting, and all looking at me. I turned around to leave, but the taxi driver stood in front of me, he'd locked the door. Suddenly, he looked burly and strong, he advanced toward me, grinning, half his teeth were missing and I could smell tobacco and beer on his breath. I panicked and looked for another way out, in a second though, I was surrounded, hands were all over me, that disgusting taxi driver was leaning towards me with his mouth open.

"I was just about to scream, when I hear this voice say -not loud, or shouting, just very firm- 'leave her!'"

"Rafiq?" asked Liz, mouth agape.

"Rafiq," continued Deirdre, "and suddenly, it was like there was no-one esle there, just him and me. I just lunged for him, I wanted to scratch and bite him and I didn't care where I was, I just wanted that great, long gorgeous cock of his inside me again. He just picked me up and slammed me down on my back on the pool table. He just tore off my knickers and then, aaaahhh! He was in me again! Fucking and fucking and fucking me, in and out, harder and harder, faster and faster. All I could see was him, the rocking pool light sending him into darkness and light, pushing me, driving me further along the table. then, then he came inside me and that's when I knew, that's when I definitely knew. It was his cum. I needed it like a junkie needs drugs. I was an addict, an addict for his cum inside me. I even felt like what it must be like to take heroin, I felt just filled with pleasure, like it was going through every vein in my body, all I knew, all I wanted to know, was the feeling of his cock, pumping that beautiful cum into me.

After he'd done it, after he'd done me, after he'd fucked me back to life again, he gave me to them. All the men in the room, he just gave me to them and they took turns at me. And I was just loving it, every last dirty, filthy cock I just crammed into myself, time and time again. All the while, they were pouring booze down my throat and making me smoke their dope. It was just a blur. It must have gone on all night. I don't remember getting back, but I woke up in my hotel room, with Rafiq next to me, his cock sliding like a snake into me. I knew then that I was no his, utterly and completely. that whatever this man told me to do, I'd do, anything and everything. I brought him back here.

The first week was part of my 'education'. He put me through all sorts. I think it was a kind of traing, test thing, but each 'experience' made me just want more and more."

"What sort of 'experiences'?" asked Liz.

"Everything! Stuff I wouldn't have dreampt of a couple of months ago!" she laughed out loud before stifling her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He's put me on the game!"

"He's what?" gasped Liz.

"He has! He's made a bloody fortune out of me so far, as well! He dresses me up in all sorts and has 'clients' come round. If I'm good, he rewards me with his cock, but if I'm bad, well... "

"What? What does he do?" said Liz, urgently.

"One of his favourite 'punishments' is to dress me up as a tarty little schoolgirl, blindfold me, tie me spreadeagled to the bed, then strap on a vibro to me. then he just leaves me. For hours sometimes. Liz, you have no idea of the suspense, the expectation, the tension of not knowing how long you're going to be strapped there, just cumming and cumming before you're released. Or more usually, when some stranger's going to be suddenly on top of you and pumping into you.

"I've not tried to analyze it. I don't really want to know the whys and wherefores. But from what I can figure, Rafiq's a kind of sexual vampire. Fucking makes him stronger. I'm his victim, and I fucking love it. It's true I said he's insatiable, he is, but I love every fucking, sucking, second of it. Even now, all I can think about is him getting his cock into me again. I'll do whatever he tells me to. What he says he wants, is a harem. And that's just to begin with. It's sounds mad, I know, but honestly, I think he wants to conquer the world through fucking!"

"He's fucking mad, more like" interrupted Liz.

"Is he though, Liz?" Deirde stared at Liz, wide-eyed. "Is he? Think about it: you wanted him from the moment you clapped eyes on him, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, so what?"

"So you didn't decide that. He did. He chose you, Liz. And what's more, now you don't have any choice

Liz stared for a long while before speaking. "So, what about me? What am I supposed to do now?"

"Like I said," said Deidre, shrugging her shoulders, "I don't think you have any choice. You have to cime back. Back to Rafiq."

"I can't! What if I don't?"

"Then I've no idea. All I know is I couldn't have lasted a day longer and I don't want to think about ever having to either. You know where I am. Where he is."

With that, Deidre drained her glass, stood up and left. Liz stared at the Rover's Return door as it closed behind her. Seconds passed. Still time to change her mind.