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Posted by HarshawJ in Erotica Fantasy
on Thursday, September 29, 2005 12:25:44 AM
in a "dominant" mood.

Dark Fanasy

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Posted by HarshawJ on
09/29/05 12:34:38 AM

Dark Fantasy

You do know me, but you don’t know me. You do not know the dark fantasy I harbor for you. You know I want you, you know you want me too, but are you really ready for what I have in mind? Do you really want to know? Do you want to know how this fantasy, your own fantasy, would play out? Well I will tell you and you will read it. You will read it and submit to it knowing that one day this could happen. And that being the case, it won’t be so dark, but dark nonetheless.

It all starts innocently enough; you are just on your way home from a long day at work. You’re tired and not really paying attention, after all you know the path well enough, you could walk it blindfolded. You take that simple short cut down a back way as you have a thousand times before, that short ally that saves you five minutes off your walk. It’s not particularly nice, trash cans all around, the smell of cat urine, but the five minutes are worth it. Not today.

You see a movement out of the corner of your eye as you pass a shaded dumpster, but by then it is too late, for now a hand is covering your mouth, the other wrapped around your torso and you try to scream, but can’t, this person is too strong. His weight on you forces your knees to buckle and you have no leverage as you struggle within his grasp. You know it is a he, you smell his stink, his sweat, his semen stained pants.

“Quite bitch, or you will only make it worse…”, he hisses, tighten his grasp around you more. Cruelly tight, pinching your ribs, it hurts. You try to bite him and with a great thrust pulls on your abdomen forcing all the air out of your lungs. His hand that was around your mouth leaves momentarily and soon a piece of cloth is being shoved in your mouth, and a leather strap is deftly cinched around your head, locking the gag in place.

“Yeah, can’t bite or scream now, huh bitch?”, and still he is behind you. You hear the “thwap, thwap, thwap” of leather as he takes his belt off with his now freed hand, still holding you so tight you can barely breath, and even less now that the gag is in your mouth. Still you struggle, but hypoxia is starting to take it toll.

With a move faster than you can follow at this point he wrenches an arm behind your back, agonizingly painful. Soon the other arm gets a similar treatment and leather is wrapped around your awkwardly placed forearms. You can feel the leather cut into your arms now, but the extreme pain eases as he finishes the binding and your arms settle lower on your back.

“Now you are going to get what you wanted… Oh yeah…” and he throws you forward over a lidded trashcan. His hand grasps your hair roughly and shoves you forward, wrenching your head back. Damn, the handle on the lid sticks right into your lower ribs, and again pain shoots through your body.

With one hand pulling your hair, that same arm digging into your back he reaches coarsely around with his unengaged arm and up that cute little pink, above the knee, skirt and between your legs. Fingers probe your crotch and latch onto the elastic band in the front of your oh so common, K-mart “Blue-Light-Special” panties. He pulls them off you viciously, shredding them, and taking some short and curlies with them. But one thing you can’t help but notice, and he notices too, the cheap panties are wet from your cunt juice.

He brings the panties to his face and you can hear him take a deep whiff from them, groaning in satisfaction. Them he tosses them away to get back to business, there is much better here that moist panties.

You want to struggle, but your body is going limp from lack of oxygen, it is all you can do to keep conscious, breathing heavily through your nose, now getting stuffy because of the hysterics your can’t express, but you body reacts to anyway. Tears are running over your face, down your neck, and dripping on your breasts and the trash lid.

The sound of a mans zipper-fly fills the alleyway as he get ready for the next act. In a sick curiosity you struggle around and get a glimpse of his raging prick. God, of all the would be rapist, you think “why did I have to get one hung like Tommy Lee?” Another shove and he faces you back, his hand on your leg and moving up to your pussy.

Posted by HarshawJ on
09/29/05 12:35:47 AM

Dark Fantasy (concluded)

Rough fingers start to probe your snatch, shoving their way into you. Your vaginal fluids start to flow heavier, the heady feel of sex coursing through your body. He certainly seems to be enjoying your plight, and so are you.

Finally he removes his offensive finger and with a piercing jab crams all eleven inches of manhood into your throbbing cunt. He does this hard. So hard you can feel the head of his dick slam against the back of your snatch. He pulls it out and slams it back in violently, again and again. He is so thick, you feel your pussy stretching traumatically to accommodate him. But there is no lack of pussy juice, no, you’re so fucking hot for this, you are actually enjoying it. His big hard cock in your tight wet pussy, him a total stranger who knows your fantasy, this place so well known to you and now the scene of your assault all come together and you just explode in uncontrollable orgasm. You come again and again, then feel his throbbing rod explode is you, jizz squirting out around it. Your and your rapists juices flowing down you leg…

The lack of air and the experience finally combine and you pass out from the hypoxia and the exertion of being fucked so hard, so brutal…

Some time later you wake still in the ally. Your mouth dry and chaffed from the gag, your arms burned from the leather belt. Your legs are aching from the struggle and your pussy is still soaked from the cum from both you and your assailant, dripping and running all over your soiled pink skirt. The only tangible thing left by your is a blank business card, and on it says… “We’ll have to do that again sometime.”

Posted by TxRose on
09/29/05 12:54:56 AM

My first husband held a gun and a knife to my head in a drunken stupor and had rough sex about 3 months after we were married. I was honestly very frightened.

During my second marriage, my husband asked if I would like to pretend I was getting raped. It was interesting with the violent thrusts, which was actually pretty exciting and stimulating. There was no hair pulling though.... and no rope tying up, etc. The thrill of the rough sex can be quite exhilerating - especially, followed up by makeup sex.

My third husband, now deceased, and I never explored those areas, albeit we did go to the Moonlight Motel in Houston once and pretended that I was a prostitute coming in to please him. That was certainly interesting as the motel was cheesy with its glow in the dark stars over the room, the mirrors by and above the bed, etc. Certainly a little variety never hurt anyone.

Working with domestic violence and sexual assault victims now, I am not sure that I could have the same tenacity as I did with the 2nd husband and I would never want it to get to the level that my 1st husband enacted in a drunken stupor.

I do find that I enjoy a little variety every now and then.