She looks around the crowded bar shaking her long brown hair back away from her face. It had been a long time since she has been in a place like this. A meat market. That's what she and her friends from college would have called it. Was that term still in vogue? She smiles to herself. That shows how out of things I've gotten, she thought. You've just got to get out more. Damn it, now that the divorce has been final for a year, she is determined she would. A bubbling giggle drew her attention back to the group around the table. For a moment, her eyes rested affectionately on her friend, her best friend in the office.

Marcy knew herself well. To be like her friend, you had to be assertive, you had to go after what you wanted. That isn't Marcy. She freely admits to herself that she prefers to be led, even pushed. Marcy is one of those rare people who knew and liked themselves. She knew she had faults, but she knew she also has strengths. And, if her life seems dull sometimes, she has a very active imagination. She grins to herself. Even her friend would probably be very shocked if she knew some of her fantasies; she needed someone to bring her out. Someone far removed from her ex-husband. Marcy isn't shy, or quiet in the way the word is usually used. This afternoon, she has been doing her share of giggling, flirting, and having fun. She didn't feel any regrets about the divorce. She has grown tired of being cooped up, and alone, when her ex-husband went off on his business trips. She thought ruefully, it wasn't different when he was home. They never went anyplace. Her ex-husband was more interested in making the firm he had inherited from his father bigger than it was.

It certainly wasn't because they needed the money. Marcy herself, upon her thirthy three years ago, had come into a trust fund that is inexhaustible. She has no sense of, or interest in, financial matters, but her father's attorney had told her that it would be impossible to spend the income from the fund as fast as it came in. Making a dent in the principal would be well beyond any but the most determined spendthrift. Her ex-husband was just as well off. Money was something that neither of them had ever had to worry about, or even think about. Yet it seemed to be all that her ex- husband did worry about. He didn't exactly worry about it, but he didn't enjoy it either. He was always worried about " what would it look like?" Marcy shook her head. She had once loved the man, but there had always been just something missing. Something missing in their marriage, something missing in bed...something missing in life.

She is glad her friend had called her this morning. Glad that she had let her friend talk her into coming out with her after work. She is kind of feeling like it is time to lose her hesitancy. At that moment her eyes, once more roaming idly around the crowded room, lit upon me standing at the bar. I'm staring at her and our eyes met. Something stirs in her loins and she flushes, looking away quickly. She tries not to, but in a few seconds she glances back at me. I'm still staring at her and as our eyes met for a second time I smile, faintly. Again something flutters in her lower belly and again she forces herself to look away. When she looks back, I had turned to face the bar. She feels disappointment. The man, if she had been able to see my face, was still smiling, more broadly now. I'm feeling a sensation in my loins. I knew I had found one. I often came to this bar, or others like it. Looking for women, for a pick-up. Most nights, I left alone, never having spoken to a woman. But the nights when I didn't leave alone made it worth while. I'm very choosy in the women I approach. I studied them carefully. When I did pick one I'm seldom rebuffed. I cannot describe exactly what I look for in a woman, what signs told me this one is open to me while that one isn't, but I'm almost never wrong.

The few times when I had approached a woman and been rebuffed, it had been a gentle rebuff, and given only after that momentary pause that told me the rebuff is with regret. And none of the women, not one, has ever been angry. Most women would be furious. I did not have what ever can be described as a smooth line. My approach is direct, insultingly direct, obscenely direct. A mistake in my choice would most probably result, at the least, in a humiliating denouncement, and at worst in a beating or even arrest. I have no desire to experience either outcome. But my targets never complained. I made them from the very beginning feel cheap and dirty; let them know that I looked upon them with nothing but contempt. A mental rapist, I sometimes thought of myself. But not a physical rapist. I try not to force a woman, but I have on occasion. I prefer a woman cooperate, to embrace her own degradation, to freely and willingly submit to everything I inflicted upon them. So I'm very careful, and very patient. Tonight, my patience is thin.

It has been a month since I'd found a target, and the next one I found is going to have to pay for my deprivation. I'm really going to drag this one through the gutter. When Marcy next glances toward the bar, I'm gone. She mentally laughs at herself. What did she expect? Why had I attracted her so? Since she and her friend had come in, her eyes had met several other men's. She is an attractive petite woman and men look at her. But none had caused that stirring in her loins. She blushes when she realizes she is a little damp down there. Oh well, in any case, she'd never see me again probably. Suddenly a glass is slammed down in front of her. She looks up, startled. It is me, I lean over her and said something. She shook her head. Surely she hadn't heard me right. Her face is puzzled and shocked as she looks at me. " Wha...what did you say?" she said. I grin. " I said, 'I'm going to fuck your brains out.'" She stares at me. The room seems to freeze around her, the crowd of people receding into the background. My face fills her vision, my grin mocking her confusion. I pull a chair from another table and squeeze in beside her. The man that had been sitting next to her turned, frowning, and started to protest, but I looked at him and the protest died unsaid. I reach for the glass I had sat on the table before her and my arm brushes her breast. It feels like she has been touched with a branding iron. I grin at her, and when I lift the glass to my mouth, I push my elbow against her. She can't seem to move. She sat there, my elbow digging into her breast while a maddening itch grows behind her womb.

I set the glass down again, and replace my elbow with my hand, moving it over her breast. Her face feels flushed and she can't seem to get enough air. She wants to tell me to stop it, wants to scream at me. Any sound, any protest, she knows, would bring several men leaping to her defense. That is all she had to do. Even show me her distaste for my insulting behavior would be enough. I would go away. She knew I would. I would take my...exciting...hand away from her breast and leave her alone. She swallows, lifting her own glass to her mouth, taking a gulp. I lean closer to her, my breath hot in her ear. " Yes, Baby," I said. " That's what a woman like you comes in a place like this find some guy willing to fuck the shit out of her. And don't you worry...I've got exactly what you need." I drain my glass and stood up. " Come on," I said.

She woke up from a deep, mindless sleep hot and confused by the darkness around her. A voice nearby, outside somewhere, startled her, sounding like a echo in the small room she is in. Was it a room? It is warm and dry and the air smells stale. Barely any light came in, she gingerly feels around, not yet frightened but very nervous. This isn't the first time she'd woken up in a strange place, she is sure she will remember where she is in a minute. The dark is kind of nice though it is unsettling. She feels a mattress under her, some blankets, she is naked except for a short, loose skirt. She knelt carefully, and begin feeling around the room for something, anything to help explain her surroundings.

The door swings open and as the daylight filtered through the curtain over the doorway blinding her dark-adjusted eyes. She looks around for clues as to where she is, how she'd gotten there. Was this one of those secret fantasies of hers, she wonders, had she accidently confessed one to the wrong person in a drunken moment of bad judgement? Hands from outside pushed aside the curtain, suddenly she feels a tug on one ankle and her left foot is pulled from underneath her and up towards the ceiling, splaying her backwards onto the bed. Both her hands are pulled up over her head towards the back of the wrought iron head board. Before she can complete a sentence, my hand covered her mouth, pushing her back down on the mattress, while my other hand grabbed her by her hip, and slide her roughly down the mattress toward the end of the bed, pulling taught on the tethers around her wrists and yanking her arms straight over her head against the mattress.

Now truly frightened and completely overpowered, she struggles involuntarily, knowing there is nothing she can do. She can hear her own muffled screams struggling to escape my hand over her mouth, her body ached as she fought. What happens next is so raw that she can never have anticipated it, resisted it, or avoided it. As my hand kept her mouth covered and the other roughly pushes her leg sideways out of the way, hot flesh and the edges of rough jeans press against the backs of her upturned thighs, bearing down on her with crushing weight. Before she can resistance, she feels a burning hot, rock hard cock forcing itself into her tight cunt. She is dry and tight, I had to retract and thrust again to force my way in. I love the way this kind of pussy feels, stunned and defenseless and completely at my disposal. She gives up easily, she is so pliant and easy to submit, this is the best kind, she will learn quickly.

My hand over her mouth loosens to let her breathe as my formidable cock continues driving in deeper inside her, still not fully penetrating her but relentlessly trying to. The sheer surprise and raw pain mixed together to shut out every other sensation, and all she can think about is my cock shoving into her, nothing else existed, but darkness. I'm fully clothed except for my open fly. She cannot see my face. She didn't want to, somehow that almost made all of this better. Physically, I'm big and overwhelming, my shadowy figure towering over her in the room's doorway, and her cunt straining around me, she can barely control it. I'm so completely in control of her, everything I did is so calculated, it is like I had planned this, done this before, knew her every move and thought before she did. There is something strangely familiar about this man, she struggles to remember; nothing came, it is all dark. Finally, I spoke, in a low voice. " If you're good..." I grunted as I thrust, " let me have what I want, everything will be fine. Now let's break you in."

With another grunt I finally bottom out in her, the friction burning in the walls of her shocked cunt, spreading her wide with what feels to her like an unbelievable girth as she feels my balls resting against her ass. Terrified and still too stunned to speak, she whimpers. The hand over her mouth retreats, slapping her hard on the ass, and then commanded, " Now, just do as I say and everything will be fine. Milk me. Come on, squeeze me with that tight, sweet small cunt. I want to feel you working hard under me." She squirms, trying desperately to focus on the task, her mind blurry with fear in the darkness. The things I'm saying are horrifying, they are terrible, so ... wrong... so... dark. It feels like my dirty talk is breaking down her mind and turning her into the sex toy that she is. All that matters now is my pleasure, and part of her, the darker part, liked this. Another smack rattles her face this time, leaving a sting. I grunt. " You be good like I told you to."

Nodding, she bore down, remembering her kegel exercises, finally executing a few. " There you go," I said in an almost soothing voice, " that's it." I then punish her with another volley of thrusts, this time more violent, overpowering her lame efforts. She screams. My cock seems to swell and harden even more inside her, punishing her with its roughness. Whenever she flexes around me, the pleasure washes back in, and when she relaxes, it is replaced with pain; the exchange is horrifyingly delicious. She is horrified at herself, that at some level, she is enjoying this.

" Good Marcy," I grunted, leaning further on to the bed over her to drill her deeper, " You do that some more, just be quiet now, that's it. Unh." The thrusts now are deeper, harder, as both my hands roughly tilt her hips up towards me, opening her legs as wide as they will go. She whimpers, trying so hard to be quiet and fearing for her life. She knows she will do anything for me now, just to get away alive. She has to admit to herself that at one level, this barbaric rape feels incredibly good, her fantasy-come-true is even better, and darker, than she can ever have imagined. Then my thrusting stops; now I'm panting and leaning heavily against the bed, pinning her, buried deep in her and grinding slowly as if probing for extra space. There is none; she is straining to accommodate me, I feel easily thicker than the opening between her narrow hip bones. I use one rough hand to fully stroke and then stuff my cock into her as I enjoy the enormous pressure of her shocked cunt, still struggling to expel me.

I keep my hand in place, guiding my cock in and occasionally forcing a finger or two in alongside to stroke myself, coaxing frantic little cries from her as she writhes limply, legs spread eagle under me. Sensing her weakness, I hiss into her ear, " You can scream all you want to now Marcy, nobody can hear you out here. Just do what I tell you." My cock is now nudging against her cervix, driving her insane with fear and pleasure. At first she did scream, half pain, half pleasure, as fingers and cock swirls into her, probing and retreating. Then she fell silent, as she senses me gathering my energy. Both my rough hands came down on her breasts, crushing them with my weight as my cock strokes in and out of her at my own selfish tempo, with no regard for her pleasure or pain, and I let out satisfied grunts. She senses a long-overdue urgency in me as she forces fluttering kegels, desperate to please me and end this. An involuntary orgasm over takes her and her hips buck, my weight pressing even more down on her now, overwhelming her mostly naked body with my mostly clothed one. The rough edges of my jacket scraping her bare nipples, she sucks in the fresh air that came in over my shoulder.

The bed rocking steadily with my thrusts. She is slowly becoming use to my size. Every time she relaxes her cunt, however, I slap her right hip the way a cowboy would smack a slow horse, gruffly demanding, " You're going to ride this bull as long as it wants to go, so hold on tight. Yes, good Marcy, suck on it with your tight little cunt." She did her best to comply, although she is getting weak and sore as I ruthlessly plunder her, forcing her open every time she tries to contract around me. After what seems like an endless session, I stop short, laughing breathlessly. " You're starting to like it aren't you? That's my girl. You know you want that big fat cock buried inside you, splitting you in two, you know you want me to pound you until it hurts. You're going to want it even more soon. You'll see. You're learning." Her legs flail as her mind and body blur under this new layer of darkness. A hard hand slaps her on the inside of the thigh, pushing it back open, and I bark, " Just remember what I taught you. You give me what I want and you'll be just fine, you'll like it. Now tighten up again."

She can barely move, she struggles to please me once more as her ravaged cunt burns, only she lost the battle and this time my massive cock slips impossibly deeper into her; the pain is blinding, almost like it is in her bowels. She sobs hysterically. My hands scoop under her ass, pulling her halfway off the bed, she could only imagine what the room looked like. The angle changes and the pain subsides, as I start pumping into her again, my rough hands gripping her legs at the hip joint around me like vises. This time, it feels so good she finds herself wanting me to do this, wanting me to fuck her, wanting me deep and dark inside of her. Stretched under me, she feels at once pulled and pounded, open to my merciless fucking. There is a spot of burning pain, almost not a part of her any more. She is completely unable to move, given over to me, owned.

To her own horror, the darkness swept through her and she feels her own orgasm flush, this time drawing low oddly happy sobs from her beyond her control. She feels her own cum streaming down her ass in the cooler room air, now there is no way she can hide her pleasure. I will know, and somehow this made it worse, made her more disgusted with herself, made her more my slave. Then, I tense one last time and I finally, mercifully explode inside her, my hot liquid flowing deliciously deep into her whether she wants it or not. She hears me breathing out, not sighing in pleasure like a lover, but in quiet satisfaction like I'm pleasuring myself in that secret, dirty way. I mutter as I withdraw and lower her back on to the bed, " Next time, we'll really see what you're made of." As soon as I'd finished, I'm gone, the door of the room closed, and she is alone in the darkness again, lightly sobbing and shuddering with exquisite confusion, pain, and tingling pleasure. The darkness is now inside her and to her own horror, she realizes she is looking forward to my next visit.

Seems like hours passed, she slept fitfully, waking to the slightest noise outside the room's door. Every time, she feared and anticipated what would happen next, like she is rehearsing for it. She imagined the door opening again, her body being yanked into position, then my hands roughly forcing her to open to me, my cock plundering into her, my low voice coaching her through it. After a while, the nightmare became a dark fantasy. She found herself hoping for it, wanting him, wanting to be forced, filled, fucked senselessly. At some point, she knew it was dawn. The light seeping in through the window, the temperature of the air, the sounds outside, these all told her that daylight, and the unknown, had come. She hears footsteps passing back and forth past the room. She hears muffled voice. She flinches, dozed, awoke in a panic, then in a wet dream that replayed the day before. She could practically feel that violent cock churning inside her now, rough and mindless. The day dragged on, nothing happened, it began to feel like an eternity to her. She was starting to crave that dark, rough fuck, nothing else mattered. She was horrified with herself, yet unable to control the burning hunger in her cunt.

At what must have been twilight, she awoke with both terror and hope at the sound of my voice, now very close outside the room. She cannot make out whole sentences, only snippets of conversation, sounds, laughs. She over hears the word " wildcat," then something about " breaking her in." She is terrified, horrified, and at the same time, confused by her own eagerness. Part of her could hardly stand the anticipation. Finally, she feels a tug on her legs. The door opens, and now she can make out what I was saying. " So I'll have her again. She has a pretty little pussy." I saying into my phone. What happens next is almost an exact copy of the night before. I spread her legs wide but leaving her back on the bed, my rough hands forcing my thick cock into her, I grunted and thrust into her without mercy or pause. This time there is something different, something rushed about it.

As I lay on top of her, thrusting into her with a volley of thrusts, making the bed lurch against the wall, she senses that I'm rushing through it in order to get on to the next thing. She still came, she can't help it now. She'd been so aroused all day, just my breath against her neck, my hands under her ass, made her scream and buck underneath me, beg me for more, lifting her hips up to me to meet my thrusts. I finish more quickly this time, withdrawing from the bed out of breath and clearly pleased.

After a few minutes I'm already petting my cock, which she can barely see in the dim light. I caress her stomach with my other hand, watching her body as I lightly touch her. She uses her hands to prop herself upright, my arms reach in, sliding her on her ass closer to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wider. She squeals at my touch, it is electrifying, she wants more. Sitting up now, she got a better view of me, my big body, and, as she suspected, massive cock. It is mostly hard now, resting on the mattress between them, easily nine inches long and as thick as her wrist. She knows how to play this, she knows I want a struggle. She yelps in fear, tries to scuttle back away from me, but my arm holds her firm as I chuckle, enjoying her fear. " Now you gotta play along or I'll have to tie you up? Wouldn't you rather I fuck you good instead of just hard?" Without waiting for an answer, my mouth is on hers, kissing her roughly, shoving my tongue into her mouth. She lets me, kissing me back, sucking hungrily on my tongue, and moaning. She feels my fingers sliding along her thigh, exploring her clit, cupping her cunt, and then slowly, surprisingly gently entering her. My fingers are smooth and thick, she loves how wet and soft she feels in my hands, so exposed and powerless. She pushes her pussy against my hand, suckling my tongue, moaning again. I pull my mouth away, licking my lips, eyeing her. My cock is now rock hard and throbbing, bobbing and almost nudging her tits. I cup her jaw with one hand as I draw her mouth down to my cock. I whisper to her, as if giving her some secret code.

This story was taken from one these sites, check them out to find more sex stories:

Pub: 27 Feb 2024 19:06 UTC
Views: 276