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Make Me Cruel

2022-10-04 00:17:42

Author's Note: Okay, my stories are usually longer and I haven't tried a short story yet. Feedback is always welcome for these, so feel free to let me know if the pacing seems skewed in places or, really, any other things that seem off :).

I put this one under noncon, but there are also some elements of domination, like impact play and bondage. I hope you enjoy and have fun!

Sophie - The Cabin

Ethan had been my boyfriend for a few years and we had been talking about our potential engagement in increasing amounts for months now. The cabin got brought up when we were cuddled on our love seat together and he paused the Netflix show we were watching to kiss me, these long, slow romantic kisses. He only pulled back to stroke my hair and say, “You know my parents’ vacation house outside the city?”

I smiled, liking where this thought was going an awful lot after so many engagement conversations. “I’ve heard you talk about it.”

“It’s a little bit of a drive, but I’ll give you directions for the holiday weekend, so you won’t even have to miss any work or anything. I was thinking we should go there and get away. The nearest neighbor to that place is miles away and we’d have it to ourselves.”

I couldn’t keep from kissing him again for how thoughtful it was. He knew how much I hated missing work, so he’d waited for when I might not have to and it was a long holiday weekend so we’d have all kinds of time. But what was more important?

He was going to ask the question, that question. I just knew it. “I think that sounds like heaven.”

I tried to hide my excitement as best I could, but Ethan was my... I know people talk about being life mates or whatever and I can’t get behind that too much, but he was definitely the perfect fit for me. We met in my college classes, when I was an undergrad and he was my T.A., working on his Master’s degree as a financial analyst, while I was in his recitations for my Physics degree. And oh my God, I was hot for teacher from first sight. He had these eyes with this rare amber eye color that turned me on from the moment I met him. I had never seen eyes like Ethan’s. I could barely focus on his class content even though I looked for reasons to talk to him and it wasn't just those eyes or his tanned skin or his dark, silky hair that looked like a dream to touch. Whenever I later found ways to run into him, he always talked back with me and was interested in the conversation. I figured out pretty damn quickly that he was a little into me, too.

It didn't take long for us to date after that and we were the perfect couple. I started living in his apartment off campus quickly enough after I left his class, I introduced him to my parents who loved him, we started combining finances slowly when it became easier and more serious, we never fought, we loved all the same shows. Even better? Ethan was adventurous in bed, too, and he would talk with me about all of my fantasies, all of them, no matter how dark or strange. We would look for ways to turn some of those fantasies into something real together. When I told him my domination fantasies, he stroked his hand through my hair and kissed me with this horny hum. "Mm, let's try it. We can start with a bad student who won't stop eyefucking her instructor and needs a spanking."

That's exactly where we started. He pressed me over the bed and slapped my ass in these sharp, playful spanks, delighting to how aroused I got off of it. And he hadn't played many domination games before, but we figured it out together. We got toys and we talked about all kinds of other fantasies to explore. Things weren’t always absolutely perfect, but we worked them out when they weren’t and it was wonderful.

I couldn't wait to get off work for the holiday and go to the cabin. Couldn't. Fucking. Wait. I wanted his last name more than almost anything.


"Oh, damn it, damn it, damn it." I had been trying to leave work early to reach the cabin before Ethan did, so I could surprise him, but nothing went my way. Work had a couple of end things that took me longer than usual to wrap up and then traffic was awful. I had to get gas and then go home to change. I obsessed over how to style my hair for too long, then had to finish packing because I hadn't finished the night before when I got too excited. I realized my perfect sundress was in the washer and needed to be dried still, then had to wait for that.

It was dark before I managed to leave for the cabin, since the days were getting shorter, and I wasn't on time to be early. I was on time for when he expected me there, though, so I guessed it wasn't too bad. The drive there was soothing, too, and I had put on my favorite pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The weather where I lived turned beautiful when summer started to fade, so that it was the perfect shorts and sweatshirt weather and that night I didn't even need the sweatshirt. I drove with the window down and enjoyed the scenery. Ethan's parents' getaway cabin was set out in this forested place that was so peaceful. There really was nothing around it for miles, except for the trees, so much so that you had to drive 20 minutes to get groceries or food. I had to smile when I got there and then broke into an outright grin when I realized Ethan's car wasn't there yet. It wasn't unusual that he got held up late at his own job. We'd actually even been ready for that, which was how I ended up with a copy of the key to the cabin so, even though I hadn’t been on time to surprise him, I felt a burst of joy that I would still get to.

The place was gorgeous, something out of a fairytale, and I couldn't stop from skipping when I got out of the car. I even left my suitcase in for the time because I was that excited to see the inside. It was set against a background of trees and it was a decent sized cabin, actually. It had two stories with a high ceiling living room, from Ethan’s de***********ions, and he’d laughingly said his family had put more time into their vacation spot than their house. To make it even more dreamy, a garden pathway led to the front door. I stopped when I stepped onto the porch, though, because the door was cracked.

My excitement before had been a calmer form, the kind you got for romance. It was the type that made me eager, but my heart wasn't racing or anything. When I saw the door like that, it changed to the adrenaline pulse kind of excitement, a far darker, more sinister kind that was tinged with fear.

Ethan and I talked about every kind of fantasy we had, every single one, after a while and eventually he had gotten me to tell him about one in particular that I hadn't told to anyone else because I'd always been terrified they would judge me or that I might get my wish. He hadn't judged me, though. He had started to play games with me based around it and we had been playing all kinds of them for months, ones that got more elaborate the more we toyed with the idea. Like the domination thing, this one hadn't started off as something you'd read in a story, but we definitely worked to those stories. After we got more intense with these games, I had started to think of the everyday Ethan as the good Ethan.

But then there was the other Ethan that I got to see more and more with the harder we got and I thought of this fantasy version of him as the bad one, the really evil Ethan, even worse than the domination one. Sparks of thrill made my wrists tingle and I could hear my heart in my ears. I had to take a deep breath and make myself press the door open, had to force every step because I wasn’t exactly sure what was coming, but I had some ideas that made me shake in no small amount of fear.

I had about a minute of light to take in the insane scene in front of me. Black strips of sheeting plastic had been hung from wires crisscrossing the wall, forming something like a loose nightmare maze that I was pretty sure had no exit. To make it even more disorienting, it covered the top of the wires to black out the ceiling, and that's what all of this was really about, I was fairly sure. The disorientation.

Even if you know what's coming, it's somehow worse the more you've played these games, at least for me and my discovery. There's a mindset that you start to fall into, in order to play out the fantasy role, and that mindset gets easier the more you practice it. The disorientation was all I needed for my heart to thunder with that surreal, pulsating terror you get from flight or fight response. It was so much worse that flight was obviously an option with this.

And then the lights cut off, replaced by strobe lights, and the thrash metal started from surround sound, loud enough to make me yelp and to increase my sensory confusion. The terror kicked into something I hadn't imagined I could ever feel. For a moment, I couldn't move from it, from how totally stunning it was. It was in the details, things like suddenly realizing I was out in the middle of fucking nowhere, where it was romantic as all hell. And where no one would hear me scream. It was in the buildup of having already played out fantasies like it, of knowing what was coming and how dark we could be sometimes because Ethan and I weren't afraid to get depraved like that. It somehow made it even worse, made my breath shorten to pants, made my hands curl into half fists that I knew wouldn't do me any good because I could never keep from running. It was one thing about this fantasy that I had never expected, how it only got more frightening and better the more you played around with it. When I had first confessed it to him, I had thought that the fright of shock would be the height of how bad it could be. It wasn't.

I had that one minute to think through all of that in an adrenaline fueled rush, to feel so afraid that my body seemed numb and nothing seemed like reality. My body was taut and I realized my knees were weak in a way that romance couldn't compare to. Then the door slammed shut behind me and I screamed, jolting forward so that a hand just barely brushed my shoulder in a quick, violent rush. Flight or fight? That was laughable.

Flight won and I heard his sadistic laughter behind me when I sprinted into the oppressive black sheeting maze. I instantly regretted it when the strobe lights spread in different corners proved to be even more disorienting and I couldn't decide if I wanted to be in the shadows or in the lights right from the start. Both were equally fucking terrifying.

I turned a corner when I heard more laughter and couldn't stop from shrieking at the sight of the skeleton statue in the flashing lights, forgetting that there was a world outside of this.


Ethan - Prior Memories

Rape fantasy.

A lot of people didn’t understand it, but oh so many people got off on it. I’ll never forget the first time Sophie brought it up to me. We had been dating for a few months and she had hinted at having darker fantasies, ones that aroused her as much as they scared her. I had had to confess to getting off on drugging stories before she finally confided in me.

“Okay, so.” She took a breath where we were cuddled in bed together, laughing a little nervously. “I have these stories I like to write and read and I’ve always been scared to talk about them because I know it might come true, but I also kind of want it to come true.”

“Just talk about it with me?” I stroked her hair, so interested, and Sophie was someone who I wanted to comfort and protect by nature. She was slighter than me, small and shy. Sometimes I’d have to get spices down for her from too high cabinets when she cooked and it always made me feel even more protective.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll tell you. Rape stories.”

I paused for a minute, but not because I judged her. It just... took me by surprise. It didn’t exactly shock me, but I just hadn’t taken the moment to consider what she might say, so it was a default kind of surprise, if that makes sense. “Like blackmail or drugging kind or-?”

Now that she’d decided to tell me, it seemed like she was all in for the confession because she spoke in a rush. “No, like the outright ones, the really, really violent kind. Like, I’m lost somewhere and I get assaulted, so hard it leaves some bruising when I struggle, or I’ve been a bad girl against a boss and he takes me to his office to ‘reprimand’ me. I fantasize about the role play, I mean, but I have fantasies about it being as close to real as it could possibly feel, so close that it would scare the hell out of me.”

I wasn’t actually shocked by this speech of hers by that point because Sophie was pretty damned attracted to violence. Her favorite genre in all things was horror and the bloodier it was, the better. I remember the first time I ever showed her Hostel, she bounced in the seat with excitement at the goriest parts. She just loved that kind of thing and the books she loved were things that were always twisted. American Psycho, Clive Barker, and the like. She ate it up like candy and the more graphic the de***********ors, the more excited she got. As for the sex part, she definitely liked roughness. She would ask me to do things like pull her hair or choke her a little, light spanking by that point, some starter domination games.

So, like I said, my first reaction was definitely not shock and it certainly wasn’t judgment. I did laugh nervously, though. “Oh man, I could totally see that being a fear, but I’m not sure I’d be the one to do it with you. I don’t know that I could stay hard with something like that, you know? It just goes against the grain. Like, a girl says ‘no’ or says her safeword and you just stop. You have to.”

It was, evidently, the perfect response. She laughed and kissed my cheek. “I know, I know, but I think that’s part of why I like it, too. It’s this taboo thing and it just sounds so terrifying.” She drew out the ‘so’ for emphasis, while I considered that for someone like Sophie. “I like some that are definitely not realistic at all, like the ones with werewolves, where they hunt this girl down and she’s terrified, but she’s their prey. That just seemed like the perfect story to describe how I felt when I read it. It’s this predator and prey thing, like being hunted and terrorized. Sometimes I’ve thought a lot on how I’d do it, for me, if it was a fantasy I could make feel real in a safe way that pushes the limits.”

I adjusted to face her better, even more interested. When it came to even our light domination games and talking about getting harder, Sophie always had some thoughts on how to make dark fantasies into something realistic and safe. She loved to talk about edgeplay and ways to be careful. “Okay, how would you do it, then? What would your ideal be?”

She blushed, but also giggled, and now that I had her talking, she seemed into the conversation. “Okay, so, my ideal would definitely have to be worked up to because I wouldn’t want the safeword option. And I wouldn’t want to know a lot of key details about the scene so that it would make it more terrifying. For instance, let’s say we talked about a setup, right, and we agreed that you were going to, I don’t know, find me on my way home and hold a knife to my throat and we agree to do it on Tuesday and agree on a place. So my idea would be that, and this is after talking a lot and trying things out, you’d do the knife thing, but it would happen on Monday and in a different place instead. That kind of thing.”

The scent of her arousal struck me and I shifted because I couldn’t stop thinking about one phrase she’d said when initially describing it. It’s this predator and prey thing. I don’t know why that particular wording stuck to me, but once she said it, I couldn’t stop repeating the idea and picturing a wolf in my mind’s eye. Combine that with her scent and, despite what I’d said and what I’d thought, I was getting hard while she talked. I shifted uncomfortably and stroked a loose piece of her dark hair back behind her ear. “That’d be...” Dark. On the edge of too dangerous. Definitely not how you’re supposed to do things. “Intense.” Wait, no. That word wasn’t the correct one.

Er. Was it?

Sophie nodded with excitement. “Exactly! That’s why I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve written a lot of stories.” She blushed. “Like so many, but I’ve never told anyone about this. It just feels so wrong and twisted, but you know all those times you’ve caught me masturbating in the bathroom and you always ask how I get off harder when rubbing my clit than when I use the vibrator sometimes?”

I laughed because I’d walked in on her when she was, in fact, getting off wildly hard. She’d be sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her legs spread and her head thrown back, brunette curls in a tangled frame around her face and down her back. She really would be way more worked up than she got with the vibrator, too, so much so that I would be able to see where a mess of white cum was dripping in a slow, hot amount down the center of her pussy’s slit. The lips would be swollen where she’d already have abused them so hard with her frantic, circular stroking. I mean it looked outright pornographic in those moments.

And hot as fuck, even when she’d shriek with surprise at my walking in on her. “Yeah, I definitely remember.”

She slapped my shoulder playfully. “Yeah, well, that’s what I’m thinking of when I do that, one of those fantasies. I’ll start off rubbing myself really slow while thinking of the start of the fantasy and how it would play out if I was walking down a dark alley or something and then I’ll go faster and faster when it gets darker and darker. It makes me cum so hard my ears ring sometimes, especially if I do it in the bathroom at work.”

“Wait, wait, is that the thing you think of those nights after we watch horror movies where you’ll wake up and masturbate three times in a night, too?” I couldn’t believe her sex drive when she had brought that up to me a few times, but then she’d proven it to me by sending me pictures one night. It was seriously three different times when she’d woken up excited and she’d still been laying in her bed in every photo. She turned on the light by her bed so that she could take pictures for me, placing the camera as close to her pussy as she could get without losing focus. Her clit had been so goddamn swollen with how horny she’d been every time.

“Maybe.” She drew that word out too, only a little nervously after talking. “That... actually wasn’t so bad to confess to.”

God, she smelled so good when she was worked up and talking about it had definitely gotten her aroused. It was this sultry, hot scent that I had come to associate with pleasure because... Well, despite how shy she could be and despite her trepidation with talking about some things, Sophie had steadily gotten more and more comfortable with me so she wasn’t so skittish about her desire for sex. By that, I mean we were at the phase of our relationship where she was comfortable enough to stay naked when she came over to my place. Usually after we’d have a hard fuck sometime while hanging out or playing PlayStation games, she’d just stay without her clothes on. She preferred to sleep that way anyway.

Not that I was complaining. I could wake up in the night, horny while she was still sleeping, and stroke my fingers down her pussy’s entrance and she’d be wet and awake within minutes. But I’d learned to not get her too wet because Sophie loved the sensation of not being completely ready, of being slowly stretched and filled. If she was half asleep when I did that, then she’d come fully awake, crying out from just the slightest bite of abrasive pain because she’d be slick enough for it to not totally hurt, but not quite ready enough to completely mask the sensation. She’d moan so loud and her body would turn tight beneath me, while she lay face down under me because she loved it from behind the most, too.

One time she’d laughingly confessed that the only time she got to enjoy that feeling was when she was asleep like that because she was so horny for me all the time.

Yeah, no, it was zero surprise by that point that she’d confess to craving a rape fantasy as hard and real as she could have it. I stroked my fingers through her hair and couldn’t keep from kissing her and we knew each other so well. Her mouth opened as soon as I licked her lips to make the kiss filthier. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of sex with Sophie. She always had this raw edge to her, so much so that I rarely had occasion to have gentle missionary lovemaking with her. I had tried to start that way sometimes and it very quickly devolved when she grasped my hand and clasped it to her throat. It was impossible to not fuck her harder every time she did it because as soon as I squeezed to choke her a little, her pussy would constrict around my cock and she’d get so wet so fast, almost to orgasm. We’d end up racing towards release together in hot, sweaty sex instead of my original intention.

Our kisses were usually the same, unless she was in a rare romantic mood and I had to start those. After talking about her rough fantasy, her kiss was lustful and the scent of her was all I could focus on. I licked her cheek when we finally broke away, a random little gesture because the sexual charge between us after talking about this was turning almost painful. “It makes you so horny just to think about it, doesn’t it?”

“It really, really does. I’ve fingered myself to it so many times, it’s crazy. I honestly think I’ve gotten off to it so much that I couldn’t keep from getting horny while talking about it now.” She bit her lip and then stroked her hand down the front of my jeans, so that I exhaled and shuddered with my own lust. “You like it a little bit, too.”

It was true, but it made me feel a little guilty. “I don’t... know. It’s hot when you talk about it like a scene in that way, but I’m not sure how I’d feel actually doing the entire scene. I’d be scared I wouldn’t stay hard and then I’d ruin your fantasy, you know? Like I’ve loved all of your fantasies so far and playing them out. Tying you to the bed and that kind of thing.”

She laughed, pressing me back so that I rested against the headboard where she could kiss my cheek and better stroke my cock, which really was hard as fuck. “No, I get that. What if we played around with the idea at first?” I closed my eyes, hissing through my teeth, when she gave me a harder stroke. “Like, what if I just said ‘no’ and ‘please don’t’ or ‘stop’ while you kept going and said ‘yes’?”

I felt a little bit of anxiety about the idea, not to mention a lot of conflict to the way it made me feel, but I really did love driving Sophie wild. I hadn’t told her that I loved her by that point, but I did, and when Sophie went crazy for sex, she really turned into this hedonistic goddess. And after talking about her fantasy, she’d seemed to have forgotten any fear it made her feel and could only focus on the desire it gave her. “Okay. I’ll try it, but if I have to stop and eat you out instead... I just mean it might happen.”

She laughed, excitement in the sound, and I smiled because I liked the sound of it. “It’s okay and I’ll get it. Want to use the safewords we always use?”

“Yeah. ‘Yellow’ for slowing down and ‘red’ to stop?” We’d played a few games before. Those were our go to words because they were so easy to remember, since they were pretty standard.

“Yes, please! I’ll get the hairbrush.”

I laughed and got from the bed to sit in our side bedroom chair instead. Sophie and I had developed a ritual that we did - whenever we could do this ritual because sometimes we would play outside the bedroom in a lot more spur of the moment ideas - and the idea of it was based on the psychology of routines. We wanted to have a moment before we played that would inspire the mindset of playing a game, that would establish the feeling of Dom and submissive, at least for us.

It was a very basic ritual. She knelt between my legs, facing away, and I brushed her hair. We always started this quietly, where I smoothed my hand through her locks and she bowed her head, where I caressed the back of her neck and she reacted with submission, going still with her emotional atmosphere.

It was always me who had to break the quiet, too. “We haven’t played in a while, baby.”

“No, sir.” She said it softly, respectfully, and I brushed her hair back from her face, enjoying the feeling of how calming that specific routine had become because it definitely had. It was always followed by adventurous pleasure and deep emotions of trust between the two of us.

“I’ve missed it.” I kissed her head. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for asking. Nothing much happened.” Her voice always got smaller while we spoke, more shy. “How was your day?”

We went back and forth, fueling the mentality of her acknowledging me as ‘sir’ and my taking care of her by brushing her hair. And I knew when our ritual was done when her head stayed bowed and she followed where my touch led, when her voice was soft and waiting for my questions or commands.

Of course, that time was something that made me step out of the comfort zone I had become used to with these games, although the ritual certainly helped. I stood over her while she waited, her gaze lowered, and took off my clothes - Sophie had already been naked - before I tugged Sophie to her feet, taking a moment to kiss her cheek when her eyes were subdued off our strange little game initiation. I chose to press her forward and bend her over the bed for this game. I’ve heard other people starting out like we did found it better to start with something like missionary so they could see their partner’s eyes. I could see that being the case, but for Sophie and I, that particular position was one we used a lot for our domination games. Seeing her like that was something I associated with the power trip mindset that had been brought up by our routine.

“I’m going to use the cuffs for this, understood?”

She turned back to look at me and I had to laugh at the pure dark desire in her eyes from that suggestion. “Yes, sir. Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.” Even though the mindset of a Dom seemed a lot different than a rape fantasy mindset, I was hoping that I could play off of the mentality I already knew. I used the cuffs to tether her wrists behind her back and then grasped the chain, pulling her arms up her back just a little. I took a moment to jack myself, staring at her pussy while I did, and the arousal alongside the control the cuffs gave me solidified that headspace enough to start. Her pussy glistened with how wet she was and I thought I could tell how much she loved this thought by that scent and the sight of her. “Okay, let’s play. Be a good girl and show me how well you can protest.”

She shuddered at the words and then whispered, “Yes, sir,” in reply, so that I took a deep breath and then started.

I did not, actually, know how aroused she was, which I learned when I stopped stroking myself to tease my fingers up her slit. My eyes went wide, right as she moaned. Loud. She was so goddamned drenched and she just barely managed to end her moan with a desperate, “No, please don’t!”

I lightly slapped her ass and it was a lot more gentle than when I usually dominated her, but I was still a little unsure of this. Except, well... That Dom mindset seemed to be exactly what I needed when she was that aroused by it and when we had talked about it beforehand, I knew she had an out, which also went with the domination. See, that mindset really wanted to make Sophie’s fantasies come true, to make her world go white with pleasure. “Hush. Yes. Look at how wet you are, baby, how ready your pussy is for it. God, you're so messy.”

I thrust two fingers inside of her so that she went stiff with so much pleasure and I pressed her wrists up a little farther by the cuff chain, so that she struggled slightly. “No, please- Oh, God...” The whispered break pulled me out of it for a moment, so that I had to hide a slight, breathless laugh against my arm. She really loved this, so much so that she could barely think straight enough to do it. She managed to pull herself back together even while she cried out in pleasure when I fingerfucked her particularly hard. Except where she’d always before said, “Yes, yes, yes, please, I’m so close,” she changed it. It was the same desperate tone with different words, which was another thing that helped me reconcile the guilt and arousal her fantasy made me feel. “No! No, please, don’t! I don’t want to, please, sir, please!”

I wasn’t okay enough to fully give her the kinds of dirty talk that I knew would go with this, not on the first try. Instead, I settled for shushing her with a certain twisted condescension because I’d already learned that she loved that, and I gave her a lighter kind of talk. “I think you’re lying and you do want to. It will be better for you to just accept what I give you like a good girl, but since you insist that you don’t like my fingering, I can give you something else instead,” I answered. I withdrew my fingers to press my cock to her and then she did manage to struggle, but it was the kind of struggling she did when she was in bondage and fiendish for more.

“Oh, no, please, please, please-“ Her lips formed the words “please more” before she managed to think straight. “Please don’t!”

I filled her so easily, sliding through so much cum that I just replied with the obvious. “No? God, you’re so wet for it, though, Sophie, and I think we both know you love this. You can try to act like you don’t want it, but your pussy doesn’t lie.” And I was shocked by how much I was liking fulfilling this for her. I definitely did, too. I was harder than ever by the sight of her struggling, imagining that she really was writhing against me, and I held her cuff chain up her back by some desperate instinct to not build that pleasure too quickly, even when I couldn’t help but fuck her a little faster. When I stopped thinking, all I could come up with were words similar to what I’d used with her before. I just chose them carefully. “You’re drenching my cock, baby, and it’s so hot, too. Be honest and tell me you like it. Tell me how much you love being filled up so full and how good I’m making your pussy feel.”

She pant against the bed, writhing so hard that her hair was a mess around her face. She had to throw locks of it over her shoulder when she turned her head to answer with more denials and pleading, but before she could, she gasped and I groaned when she squeezed around my cock, hot arousal bathing me when she came. Her face screwed up like it was pain to endure and she pant slightly with the aftershocks, while I was on the edge of losing any hope of control. She finally managed to answer. “No, I don’t like it. No, please! Please, please, please, stop, I- Oh, God.”

“Are you sure about that, baby? I’m having a hard time believing you after an orgasm like that. Come here. Let me give you more instead, since you need convincing.” She was getting more and more into it and the sheer amount of arousal she had was making me forget all my anxieties, enough that I lifted her up slightly and pinched her nipples so that she constricted around my cock again. Her squeal of shock and need made me feel hotter than hot and I quickened my thrusts inside of her, starting to lose myself even farther into the game. “You lying, bad little girl. You’re so horny for this that you’re close to making me cum with how tight your pussy is milking me.” I slapped one of her breasts so that she moaned and then slapped her ass and that time it was as hard as I normally did it, hard enough to give her the bite of pain she loved most in her sex.

“Oh... my... I- Please!” She rocked against me when I fucked her a little harder, then she thrashed when I pulled away slightly to spank her in a series of slaps. I gave her a soft caress at the end, although that act was definitely more for my sake than hers at that point, and she cried out in a desperate sound when I pumped back into her, trying to stave off the orgasm that she was going to drive me to with so much messy wet heat around my cock. “No, please don’t! Please don’t cum inside me, please! I don’t want you to and please stop!”

I grit my teeth. She absolutely loved it when I came inside her and I could do that since she was doubled up on birth control. It was actually something we did every time, so it was another thing I could reconcile with thoughts of a game. “I think I will since you wouldn’t be a good girl and admit how much you like this. I mean, Christ, baby, you’ve already cum all over me. I think it’s only fair I get to fill you with mine.” That last word was a growl because I was just... so... fucking... close... And I heard her de***********or in my head again. It’s this predator and prey thing. I felt feral, so much so that it was intoxicating and I was having mental images of her struggling harder beneath me while I held her still and forced her to take all the cum I wanted to pump into her tight, wet little pussy, so much that it dripped out of her and stained the bed when she couldn’t hold it anymore. I worked her in a frenzy with that thought, giving over to fantasy and losing myself.

“No, no, please don’t do that! Please, I’ll be good and say it, but please don’t cum inside me! I love it, I love it, please don’t!”

I tightened my hand around her waist and held her cuff chain in a death grip when the orgasm roared through me, barely managing to answer, “Too late,” but it didn’t matter anyway.

Sophie cried out when she felt my release, a long sound of ecstasy when she came again while I coated her insides with cum. One leg twisted back around mine in a hot, frantic action, while I braced myself with my hands on the bed around her. She went still and we were quiet for a moment while I went soft inside of her.

I finally managed to break the silence. “Holy fucking shit.”

“That. Was. Amazing.”

And that’s how we started down the path to create the perfect rape fantasy together. It wasn’t violent to begin with, wasn’t particularly elaborate, wasn’t even creative at first, but it was for damn sure enough for both of us to want to find out how much more intense it could be despite, or maybe because of, either of our feelings of trepidation.


Sophie - The Cabin

I couldn’t think straight enough to get myself together. The music was so loud and the lights were incessant, not to mention the random surprises I would find in the sheeting plastic corners. There had been a demon face on one side that made me scream because I couldn’t focus on things with the bright flash of the light and when I did manage to focus on them, it felt like a hellscape. I was pretty sure I was going in circles, but I couldn’t tell one gargoyle or demon mask hanging from another and it felt so suffocating and tight surrounded with black like that. The music covered up any other sound and I couldn’t keep from stopping to look behind me every so often, turning in circles while I ran. That was how I caught the first glimpse of him and the sight made me scream and turn around to dive around another corner, so that he laughed with twisted pleasure behind me.

His face was painted in stripes or designs - I couldn’t tell which - of black, red, and white, thoroughly covering all the features I knew and replacing them with something more cruel, which was fitting. Bad Ethan was really cruel. If I didn’t amuse him with a decent chase beforehand, then he’d find other ways to amuse himself, ways that involved the rattan cane he held at his side. Although I definitely thought he was probably going to play with it no matter what I did.

“Sophie,” he sang behind me. “You’re not being very quick.” I skipped in a circle, looking for him behind me again, blood roaring through my ears. I tried to listen over the thrash metal, but it was just so damn loud. “Let me give you incentive.” I shrieked even before I felt the cane stripe where he was right behind me again and then sprinted, the pain dulled with such wild terror adrenaline while he laughed wickedly. “That’s better.”

Now I knew I was going in a circle, back the way I came, but each wall of plastic looked like another. I ran through it a few turns, trying to think straight enough to remember the turns I had taken so I could figure it out. Right, left, left, right, left. “No!” I shouted it in frustration when I ran almost right into him as I turned a corner and turned back around, getting desperate enough to try something stupid.

I knelt to the bottom of the thick sheeting plastic and ripped at where it was taped to the ground, scrabbling at the long lines of duct tape. “No, no, no...” I moaned in dread when the tape ripped down the middle so that I had to claw at it to get it up again. “Oh, come on, hurry!” I whispered it under my breath in frantic panic, ripping up the tape with an increasing feeling of dread, but thinking that this might be the only way I could-


His hand was violent when he grabbed me by my hair and I struggled uselessly, trying to get to my feet, even though he was always stronger than me, but every single time I couldn’t keep from trying. “That was a bad fucking idea.” I yelped when he tripped me right as I managed to get up, falling hard back to my knees, and he was brutal about his touch. “Bad fucking girl.” I shrieked when he caned me.

“No, please don’t! Please stop, it hurts!” I tried to crawl forward, only to have him grab me by my hair again so that I reached up to claw his hands, which gave him the perfect opportunity to grab one of my wrists.

“Then you should have played a little longer and made it more fun.”

“No!” I shrieked it when he dropped the cane and managed to get my other wrist in his hand. He had a strip of duct tape already cut and taped to his jeans but he ripped it free, holding my wrists together in one hand easily while he wrapped the tape around them. I struggled it, trying to kick at him but he answered that by straddling behind me to hold me down, stretching my wrists while he finished securing them. The action made me shout with more panic when I felt his cock through his jeans. My pussy clenched even when I thrashed harder.

He was so freaking hard.

I went to crawl as best I could when he released my wrists once they were secured, awkwardly trying to get to my feet again, so that he laughed at the action. “Where do you think you’re going, helpless little fuck?” I shrieked when the cane striped me again, barely catching myself on my taped hands. “I tried to be so nice by giving you a chance to run and you had to be a little bitch about it.” The cane made me pant and I still tried to crawl away.

I don’t think I could have played these games without struggling anymore. It was kind of like saying “yes, sir” when he was my Dom. The panic and fight were just ingrained so that it almost felt so deliciously real. “No, please stop!” The cane made me shriek the plea again.

“I suppose I could. We can move on to something else, a different punishment that better fits how much of a slut you are.” I kicked back when he grasped me around my waist, shouting senseless protests when he tore open my shorts button. He released me only to grab the end of my shorts, easily ripping them down to my knees. I tried to catch them there, to stop him, but he only snorted in derision and pulled back.

I fell when the cane made me shriek and he used the moment to force my shorts off the rest of the way. “No! Stop, please, I don’t want to!”

His laugh was disdainful. “You’re a fucking liar, but let’s find out how much you’re lying together.” I shouted when he slapped one of the cane stripes he’d left and then shoved two fingers inside of me, bending over me to do it. The action made my shout rise to a scream with the orgasm that ripped through me and it was something that had never happened that fast. I had gotten off on this multiple times almost every time we played, but I had never cum as soon as he touched me.

It worked to make me all the more frantic because his laughter was shocked. “Such a fucking slutty cunt. You just can’t help being a little whore anymore, can you?” He slapped my ass and I wailed, my legs spread like the dirty slut he called me and I was still trying to think through animal need to even pull away. I was just managing to come back to myself when he shoved my face forward, to the ground so that my ass was lifted up. I strained against him, lifting up as soon as he let go, but he didn’t care.

“No, please don’t! Please don’t-“

“Please don’t?” He grabbed me by my hair, lightly slapping my face. “Please don’t what? Please don’t fuck your drenched little pussy when it’s wetter than a fucking river?”

“No! I mean, yes, please don’t fuck me!”

His painted face made me struggle all the harder, although I was weaker after expending too much while running, but he’d done the paint in these demonic curves and I whimpered under him, only to have him grin evilly. “It’s too bad you’re such a little slut who deserves it. Come here, you filthy fuck, move.” He snarled it, pulling me by my hair so that I whined and my fighting turned pathetic when I was crawling to try to avoid the rise of pain in my head. I had to hop in humiliation with my tied wrists and then squealed when he dragged me through a single sheet of plastic that hadn’t been taped down, taking in a corner outside his evil maze along with the crude iron collar to one side and the table to the other.

“No! Please don’t, please!” I struggled when he pulled me to my feet, crying out with the pain from his pulling my hair, not daring to fight too hard in case it only hurt me more. He had left the cane in his nightmare of a maze but it didn’t matter. There was another one against the wall.

He hissed in impatience with my struggling, slapping my face again before he shoved me over the table, pressing me down with a hand on my back while he freed his cock with the other. I went to push myself up on the table and he wrenched a cane stripe in punishment, so that I screeched. “Bad. Fucking. Slut.” He punctuated each word with a hard slap to my ass and then fixed himself against my entrance and drove himself balls deep inside me in a swift motion.

“No!” I shouted it through an orgasm that made me blind for a minute. Violence was like cocaine to me. It hit hard and fast and pumped my body full of vicious energy and bliss.

“No again? I think I’ll listen to your cunt instead, since it’s squeezing my cock so hard from your slutty orgasm. You like being raped like this?”

“No, please stop, I don’t like it, I don’t!”

His laugh was feral with pleasure and, God, he was so fucking hard it made me thrash. “Aw, look, a little fuck doll in denial. How cute, but your pussy says it wants to be raped harder.”

He pumped inside of me so that I gasped with the sudden onslaught of so much pleasure. My vision was swimming with how good it felt, with how profane and endangered his filthy words made me feel. “Please... don’t anymore...”

“What was the last part? I couldn’t hear you very well, but it sounded like you begged for more.”

“No! No, I said- Oh, God!” I couldn’t stop the shout when he reached around me and forced two fingers inside of me alongside his cock.

“Oh, you love having this pussy ruined, don’t you? You just squeezed so hard from how horny it made you. I think I’ll leave it a gaping hole dripping with my cum.”

“Please! I! No!” The begging ran together and I was so wet that he managed to add a third finger, while I only felt all the more lustful with how he forced those fingers down against my pussy’s walls, stretching it painfully.

“Getting close again? That’s okay, go ahead. Cream all over my cock again so I know how much you love being stretched open with your slutty hole being ruined. I’ll have to use your fucking asshole for the second time just to feel it.”

I shrieked with orgasm at the thought of that and what he was already doing, screaming more pleas and denials while I did. “Stop, it hurts, please! I-“ I cut off with a wounded cry when he abruptly pulled his hand away, slamming into me from behind. His pace was animal and I pant in shock at the sudden change, feeling him turn impossibly hard so that I shuddered around him. His breath started to come in sharp pants with how horny he was and I moaned.

“Filthy fucking rape toy.” He snarled with the force of his orgasm and I moaned in a long cry of satisfaction. “There, now that your hole is gaped and filled with cum like a slut deserves to have it, come here.” I followed where he lifted me by my hair, in a used up daze. I couldn’t even protest anymore. 

I whimpered when he shoved me to my knees, fixing me with the heavy iron collar and padlocking it shut. The chain made me flinch when it touched my shoulder and I watched him tug the lengths of iron to show me I was secure and couldn’t escape. His amber eyes glittered with twisted amusement. “You can sit here and wait for round two and while you’re waiting, I’ll give you a few things to think about. First, when you fight me when I get back, I’m going to belt you until you can’t fight anymore.

“And two, well, if that’s what I just did to your pussy, imagine what I’m going to do to your asshole.”

I moaned while he walked away, shaking in the chains, dripping with cum.


Ethan - Prior Memories

I’m going to be honest. Even though the excitement was there for me, it took a little bit of magic from Pavlov’s bell for me to really be able to get darker. I wasn’t actually much of a sadist, but I also hadn’t even started out as much of a Dom. The thing about our games together, though, was how they just came with so much pleasure when Sophie and I started trying them out together. The first time I tied her down, for instance, it was mostly just rope play, not really much domination, but she got so wet from it that I could pair the pleasure of fucking her with dominating and the two went together. We have a word for magic like that and that word is conditioning. It’s not just for submissives and it definitely works for tops too. We talked about that together and came up with ways to deliberately make me like being mean, really fucking mean.

At first it was the light ideas like dirty talking while she asked me to stop. See, I already did the dirty talk thing with Sophie, especially when we played some of our domination games, so I knew how hard she could orgasm off of me calling her a slut. We just had to put it with struggling and get more violent from there.

God, it was great. We had more and more sex so we could work up together. It started with Sophie staring up at me with her wide eyes and whimpering, “No, please stop,” while I fucked her into my bed, her pussy tightening around me with each time she protested from how much she loved it, so much so that it made me harder instead of turning me off like I had thought it would. We talked through everything, too, because Sophie didn’t want me feeling guilty.

It was a steady process where Sophie encouraged me and she started blowing me before bed every night after we played, working me over with such adoration that it turned into bliss and heightened the domination mindset, along with the desire to be cruel. I would lay back with my eyes closed and place my hand in her hair, shudders of pleasure wracking me when she made me cum. Then she’d swallow, licking her lips while I watched, and nuzzle next to me like a cat. “I really love it when you’re mean, sir.”

I started to want to give her more violence sooner rather than later. Way sooner.

We kicked things up a notch by adding toys. We got gags and light pain play toys first and these still weren’t quite scenes or anything, but I would hold her down while she was gagged and stare down into her begging eyes while I fucked her in increasingly degrading ways. She would cum for me harder and harder and the effect of making me rougher in slow amounts had another effect in making her increasingly more excited with the thought of playing. Because however hard she would get off at the end of a playtime would only get better with the next one.

She got addicted to it too. I would be reading a book - and during all this we ended up moving in together - and Sophie would stroke a hand up my leg so that I grinned up at her. “Come and play with me?”

Which meant “be mean and rape me”. We increased pain play a little more slowly from there because that took some getting used to for me. Sophie got an idea for it though. I was getting out of the shower one night when she watched me with a wicked look in her eyes. “I got you a present so that I can make you bad.”

“Oh, yeah, baby girl?”

“Yup.” She held up a box and I got pretty damned intrigued with the vibrating cock right she showed me.

I couldn’t fuck her when doing something like paddling her, and sex was what we were using for my conditioning, so Sophie had decided to help me with that. She got me a remote controlled ring that had settings and the setup was that she helped me place the ring on myself and then bent over the bed for me to paddle her or strap her or eventually cane her. When I started, she started the ring on the first setting. When it hurt more, she upped the vibration until my thoughts started to scatter. When it became really rough, she kicked it to the highest setting until I couldn’t take it anymore and fell on her in a violent frenzy, fucking her through a greedy haze of desire. Every single fucking time, she’d be so wet because it turned out Sophie loved pain, and that was a key thing. I couldn’t have dealt with it if she hadn’t been that worked up by that point because my pleasure was heavily tethered with giving her pleasure and had been even with just domination. But she was that worked up. Every single time.

What was really interesting about the conditioning we did, at least to me, was the fact that the violent nature we were working for seemed exclusively contained to go with our domination sex. What I mean by that is once a scene was set or once we started our ritual of my brushing her hair, I started to feel my blood pulse with excitement for the pleasure and the desire to have it. On the other hand, when a scene wasn’t set and Sophie was just making out with me on our new love seat, I was the same way as always. Actually, we both seemed to get more romantic with these softer moments as opposed to before, when I would lose myself in lightly choking her. It was as if the violent desires were being so heavily satisfied during our playtimes that even Sophie started to be softer outside of them. Where she had once been nearly impossible for me to have totally vanilla sex with, we started to have moments where I would lick her pussy open and then gently press my cock inside of her, only to hold still for a while, kissing her with these light brushes of our tongues against each other. That part of me was perfectly content to just enjoy her wet heat closed over me, to nuzzle her hair and enjoy the scent of her, tell her she was more beautiful to me than anything and how I hoped she’d be my wife one day.

It was fascinating. If I had to guess, I would say this strict separation was an effect of my preexisting moral constraints. Once a scene was a scene, the restraint disappeared.

Of course, this was after a fair bit of playing. We started to use the cock ring when we began our first smaller scenes too, that way it vibrated in encouragement when I grabbed her from behind when she’d come out of the shower, curling my hand around her throat and forcing her head to my shoulder in a violent gesture. She gave me these gasps of terror while the cock ring pulsed pleasure through my balls and shaft in these gentle waves. The haze of desire made it difficult to think about the cruel words I was saying, but after starting out with the filthy talk, that was kind of the point. We didn’t want me thinking about it because I was meaner when I didn’t consider it. “Are you going to be a good fucking girl for me, Sophie, or do I need to hurt you a little bit before I fuck your ass?”

“No, please don’t fuck my ass! Please, it hurts!”

“The hard way, then.” And she’d struggle while I figured out how to rough her up in the ways that made her the most wet. That was another thing. The Dom desire to make her fantasies come true never left and I didn’t think it ever would. Even as cruel as she wanted me to be, I figured out the things to do to make her go blind with pleasure. A hand around her throat and light choking made her pulse around me. The first time I slapped her face - carefully and only ever lightly - she had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming with the orgasm. When I strapped her and got harder as the vibrations got harder from the ring, she would be more drenched than ever when I got done. But the general way to go with Sophie was with, unsurprisingly, violence mixed with a perfect amount of sharp pain. I would get more from her if I slapped her tits and then her face and then gave her a few sharp, hard strikes of a strap than I would if I just gave her continual light pain from a paddle. Fear made her come alive and roughness made her hotter than hell.

But there was one scene where we didn’t really have to use the conditioning anymore. I loved doing all this, loved it, but there was one thing that made me more into it than ever. One night, Sophie and I had decided on a scene where she would be “alone” in the living room and kitchen. The rules were I could grab her at any time of my choosing so she wouldn’t know when and then I could add my own few details to make it more terrifying. I wasn’t sure how it would go but I chose the strap for sure because I was hoping to get it around her neck for threat and then I decided on a mask. At first I was just going to go with, like, a ski mask or something but then I decided on something more theatrical. It was this face wrap over the mouth with a hard piece that went over the eyes and the design was skull printed. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first when I got it. On the one hand, it did look pretty terrifying. On the other, I hadn’t done anything that dramatic yet. I didn’t know how it would feel.

But then I put it on while Sophie was playing her part of the game and the headspace kicked in, the one that had turned dark as fuck and holy shit. There was this amplified effect where the mask and the theatrics in general only made the ambience more twisted, made me feel excited too, with that sense of pure eagerness that I had started getting from the cock ring. My blood thudded in my ears and I wanted to play rough with her and then I wanted to get more dramatic and find ways to add more theatrics in our games.

I waited for Sophie to get up to go to the bathroom and the walk to the back bathroom took her facing away from me, so that I quietly sprinted to her and grabbed her, wrapping the belt around her neck, so that she shrieked out of pure jump scare and then choked. That cut off into another yell of terror when she saw my face and-

And I liked it. My cock turned hard as if the ring was vibrating around me and my vision swam with lust. She twisted against me, reaching up to grab the belt. “No, let me go!”

She struggled harder than ever and I got harder off of it, almost drunk from it. It was so dark, yeah, but it had this twisted playfulness behind it when I added theatrical ideas like masks in some way. It was magic.

“I don’t think so, filthy fucking tease. Don’t act like you won’t like it.”

“No! No, what are you going to do to me? Please don’t hurt me!”

“I’ll do whatever I goddamn feel like and you’re going to be a good slut and take it. Now shut up and get on your hands and knees.”