Anew [MF][Rape fantasy][And not so much fantasy][Powerplay][Alone in the woods][Run away little girl]

“Are you ready?” Then a harsh tug on Amy's blindfold.

She blinked, dazed by the light, and took a moment to breath as she looked at the trees. The woods were beautiful. Serene, empty and silent, not even broken by the faint sound of a driving far away.

Amy kicked the earth to realize that there wasn't even a dirt path. They were nowhere. She didn't even know the time from the sun in the sky and would have to wait for it to move in order to its direction.

Not that it would help. She knew nothing of the area. She was helpless and, for a brief moment, considered giving up. Something in her face must have betrayed her–because he laughed. “Oh no, little girl. Too much for you? Scared of the big bad woods?”

Amy turned to him, but he hardly acknowledged her. Instead he pulled out his phone, twirled it around and unlocked it. He shifted his tall, lean frame against the jeep and pressed a few buttons. His tee tight-fitting under a large flannel shirt and it made her aware how ill-prepared she was in shorts and a tank top–even with her running shoes.

He pressed a button on the phone that made a small beep before he bent over to fish around inside the jeep's cabin. He reappeared with a canteen, unscrewed the top and took a sip before Amy realized how thirsty she was going to be.

The man shook it, made the water slosh around before offering it to her. She reached out to grab it and, just before she took it in her hand, he dropped it intentionally looking her dead in the eye.

“Whoops.”

Amy glared at him before she bent over to pick it up, uncap it and take a swig. She offered it back to him but he shook his head in protest. “No. You'll need it more than me.” “What makes you think I'll need it? That you can even find me out there?” She asked. “If I were you I'd save my energy for when I catch you. What I'm going to do to you.”

He looked at her without blinking with sealed lips and a tautness in his chest, his voice. He looked at her like she was food.

“So when do you want to start the timer?” Amy asked while pondering how much quicker he was in a straight line than her. “The timer?” He asked as he pulled out his phone. “The thirty minutes head start…”

He showed her the screen. Twenty-six minutes and change.

“I didn't agree to that!” “Oh?” “That's not fair!” Amy screamed, looked to the woods and back to him.

Instead of responding he cricked his neck and placed his feet wide apart before moving his arms to the sky to stretch.

“Reset the timer.” Amy insisted. “I asked if you were ready.” “Do it now!”

That got his attention. He stopped the stretch, stepped towards her and tilted his head down to meet her furious gaze. “I don't think you appreciate how little power you have here. How the only thing that's keeping you from being ripped apart is the hourglass that is ticking away. How your no's will mean nothing and even when you scream as loud as you can nobody will come to save you.”

He leans down and puts his lips just beside her ear. “When you beg me to stop? I'm just going to fuck you harder.” then rises back to full height. “But by all means,” he says as he shows off the large Twenty-Four on phone, “keep standing there.”

Amy runs.

She runs like her life depends on it. She runs like she didn't need breath, then she runs faster. In the back of her mind was the knowledge that her ancestors would chase prey to death, exhaust them until they fell over. She was the result of that strategy. If you had to run for days to survive, you would.

The panic left and her presence of mind returned. She slowed o a jog and changed course. Downhill, she thought. She's smaller, weighs less, takes less energy to go down a steep decline than it would for him.

Don't run too fast. Don't run so fast you need a break. Keep some in the tank in case you need to book it at the last minute. He's big, he's determined and can beat you in a straight line for a while, but only a little bit. So get somewhere safe. Somewhere that he can't come at you, not right away. Amy changed directions again. She observed the sun through the treetops. East. She headed east as the sun was starting to sink.

She found her gait. Light easy steps took her down the heavy slope until she saw a small spring. Will you risk it? More water is good. He didn't have a canteen, he needed it more than her.

The canteen top came off easily as she took long, heavy pulls. She looked around the near straight-away. Safe from any direction. If anything came near her she'd see it from half a mile away. Contented, she filled up the canteen. As she did the birds began signing and she realized that she had been still long enough that she no longer disturbed them.

She looked around for her next move. If you keep heading in in a more-or-less straight line, she thought, you're bound to find something.

Then she realized how untrue that may be. She did not know where she was. He had driven nearly the whole night while she was blindfolded, only stopping to sleep a short time.

They could be anywhere.

The realization came with a smack–the only person that was anywhere around here would rape her violently.

She surveyed her surroundings. There was a nice hill in the distance where the slope seemed to continue down. It would make an excellent area to rest, keep an eye on things and even have a place to put her back against.

It took her too long to realize the birds were no longer singing. She felt a chill she couldn't place, shot up and capped the canteen before strapping it on. Then she spun, looking in every direction.

A whistle from the west. She looked out of habit. There he was, flannel tied around his waist, backpack properly secured over both shoulders, walking casually toward her from a half-mile away. Knowing that they could see each other, he gave her a big, friendly wave.

“I don't think this is a good idea.” Amy shouted.

He just kept walking forward.

“I mean it! I'm going to use my safe word!”

He keeps coming.

“Cinderella! I'm saying it! Cinderella!”

He stops. “Are you sure you want to use your safe word?”

“Yes!” Amy screamed it again. “Yes!”

“Well, alright then.” He stopped dead and even from that distance she could hear his laugh. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I do!” Amy took a step towards him, a smile on her face, the air feeling suddenly more free and alive.

“Good. Because I don't fucking care!”

And with that he bounds towards her, full speed and shoulders down. The shock takes her just a second to process before she turns to run.

He hadn't even been running, the disquieted part of her mind said. He hadn't even started by the time she was winding down. He's full of energy and he's faster than you, the voice inside berated. He's going to catch you, he's going to hurt you, you're so fucking stupid for letting it happen.

How had he found her anyway? Her mind drifted back to the start.

“Are you sure?” Amy asks him with a laugh. “Of course I am,” he says with a smile.

Amy shook her had as she took another piece of her birthday cake. “Why?”

He looks at her as the smile dims, he's going over her body, her face like he has a thousand times before. Then there's just the hint of something new, right beneath the surface. “There's a monster in me,” he says with eyes shining. “There's a monster in me and it wants you to meet him.”

Amy told herself to focus.

She could hear him now. His heavy football a hundred times louder than hers, every branch he snapped sounding like a shot. She didn't look back; she wasn't some horror movie floozie.

The fear pushed her to another level and didn't relent there. She could feel fire in her lungs and stomach but only give them the faintest of acknowledgments. There were pain, but not suffering. Her entire life she had never known what the word meant. Even now she didn't–only what it could mean. What it would happen if he caught her.

The slope deepened, the grade becoming steep. Amy slid down the hill, using the reflexes she had learned from skiing to contort her body to avoid the trees and rocks. When she reached the bottom she looked up at the near 100 meter ramp she had just descended.

He appeared at the edge, only a few hundred feet between them. They looked at one another with new eyes. The way you can only seem someone once civilization had bee stripped away. Who they really were.

“How'd you know I wouldn't follow you down?” “Because you're a pussy.” The words were out her mouth before she had even thought them. “Because you're a coward.”

She wanted to rile him, get him to edge so he'd make mistakes with his anger. Waiting for his next move, she uncapped her canteen and swished some water around before spitting, all while holding his eyes. “Remember when you said you didn't need this?” “I don't..” He said it evenly, but with forced control.

They stared at each other until she leaned against a tree, still looking up at him. He followed suit. “What's your game plan now, big bad man? You gonna go all the way around and find another? Could take hours.” She used the leverage of her body to snap a sizable, pointed branch off a dying tree and held it up like a spear. “Maybe I'll have this waiting for you at the bottom.”

“I'd ask you what your plan is, but I know you don't have one.”

He couldn't rest as easily as she could looking down as she could up, she realized. So she put her body against a leaning tree, took a slow pull from the canteen.

“You shouldn't use a weapon, little girl, you might get hurt.”

“You should respect my safe word. And since you're not? I'll do what I have to.”

He grunted and she smirked.

Her muscles still felt on fire, electric, but rest started to creep in. Then she saw him shift like he was about to jump down the path and she launched out of the tree and took a few running steps before realizing he wasn't coming down.

She flipped him off and turned to walk away. No running, just walking, branch in hand.

“No matter what you think you're doing, you're only reacting to me. You're playing my game.”

Amy thought about the stream as she left him in the distance. What was her game plan after she found it? She was sure he could take her in a fight. And that was before today, before he revealed this inner beast.

She was confident there was enough of a view in any direction that she could see him coming. That's when she had to decide about the branch. It was heavy, and weighed her down. It could save her life with a well timed crack to his head. She debated.

Why did she ever agree to this?

“No,” she said to herself aloud. “You're in it now. No second guessing.” Yes, the voice spoke from within. We're all we have now. We have to do this. Amy nodded and slung the branch over her shoulder until she decided what to do.

Then she heard it–the beautiful sound of running water. Her pace picked up until she moved into the clearing.

The creek ran down toward another mountain and another mountain's peak rose up behind that. She looked up the hill she had descended far in the distance. She saw the expanse of nature without man and found it terrifying, humbling and beautiful. She was insignificant compared to it, and yet she had never felt more alive.

The rustling sound of his footfall over the sound of the creek came too late. By the time she had turned he was launching in the air. He tackled her before she could swig the branch at him.

She fell.

The wind was knocked out of her.

Her body was crushed beneath his.

She screamed as she jammed the pointed end of the branch into his thigh, felt it puncture his skin. She pulled it out to stab him again but his hand is on hers, pins her down, forces her to wrestle him.

She bites his shoulder then tries for his neck. She kicks at his balls until he forces her legs down then tries to scratch his eyes out.

But he just disarms her, throws the branch aside, pins her. And just like that he has complete control.

They pant and look at each other. It only lasts a second before his left hand cracks over the side of her face with an echo so loud it drowns out the creek.

She's strangled, brought to the point that she's about to lose consciousness and released so that she can gasp, choke, sputter. When she starts to moan, show she has enough, she's kissed so hard she can feel a seem inside her lip tear open and taste of her own blood.

She pushes him with everything she has, her palms against his chest, kicking with what little force she can muster from being pinned beneath him until she feels his palm swipe her face. It turns her head and her world goes out of focus, shifting from his smoldering eyes to the treeline. Then a tug of her hair and she's looking at him again. Another tug and her view is craned down to his legs. She watches him release her legs before her starts to pry them open.

“No! No! Cinderella!”

He chokes her again, this time with just his thumb, sinking it into her larynx, making her feel it. “Keep saying it. Keep screaming no.” He releases it, then all of her. He stands up, moves over to the creek and pools his hands together to cup and drink a bit of water. Still dampened he comes back to her, flicks water over her face and dries his hands on her tank top. “You know why I'm letting you scream? Why I turned my back on you?”

She shakes her head.

“Because nobody can hear you. Because if you run away again I'll just find you. Here,” he pulls the backpack off his shoulders, unzips it and fishes out a baggie of trail mix. Then he throws it at her. “Take it.”

“Stop. Please. I love you…”

“Go on. Take it. Run.” He throws another bag of dried fruit against her, pelts her with a bag of smoked almonds.

She starts crying. Curls up and turns to face away from him but as soon as she does he roars.

With a single twist her pulls her back to him. Like she weighs nothing. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. He takes the bag of almonds up and stuffs it in her mouth as she continues to cry, shake, twist away from him.

Then she feels the button on her shorts being undone and she cries some more.

He drags them off her, dangles them in front of her face, tosses them aside.

“Look at those panties. Soaked. You want this.” He tugs at them, walks them down her tights, left, then right, then left. He gets them to her knees before shoving his index finger in her pussy.

“You think I don't feel that?” He brings his mouth down to her ear. “You want this more than you've wanted anything. Say it.”

She mumbles it through the bag of almonds until he pries it out. “I want you more than anything,” escapes her lips before she starts sobbing again. “Please, don't do this.” Then the almonds are shoved in deeper, and she can only taste the thick plastic, her blood and spit.

The tell-tale sound of a zipper being undone and then her wrist is being yanked to his cock. She only holds it there for a moment then tries to withdraw it before he pulls it back. “Use your hand or it'll only get worse.”

He's harder than she's ever felt him and hes hot and slick with sweat. He grunts with pleasure as she slides her hand over him. Out of hope, out of instinct, out of habit—she tightens her grip and accelerates her efforts to make him cum. To get this nightmare over with.

“Look at me.” His voice sounds like terror itself and she feels herself getting hotter, her body betraying to the point that she drips onto the earth.

She feels his hips moving and strokes him harder, shifts her body to make the movement easier. He laughs and she recoils, turns her head, but he is only there, waiting for her when she looks back. She doesn't even think to stop stroking him.

“Harder.” And she does. Tight circles around his cock and he slithers closer to her. “And if you try anything I'll bite your throat open the way you tried to do mine.” She feels just the tip of his teeth against her neck. She swallows on instinct, that lump on her throat so big it causes even more of her skin to be grazed.

He starts panting into her throat, hot breath covering her, moving through her until her legs shake.

“More.” Another growl. She strokes him faster, his cock so slick there's barely enough friction.

She puts everything she has into it. She pleads with God, the stars, to anyone that can hear her through the tears and his grunting to please help.

He starts to shake and she somehow finds the energy to go faster. Then he's screaming into her neck so loud it hurts her and covering her hand with hot, thick cum.

And she is safe because of it.

Her hand gets a few inches away from him before he seizes it, drags it back to his cock.

It is even more slick, his cum coating nearly every part of it. But just as hard. Like he hadn't cum at all.

Her panties fly off. He tosses them on top of her shorts and like a flash he's between her legs, pushing up her tank top. “I want to see your tits.”

When she fumbles, takes too long, she pulls her bra up, drags it across her breasts and nipples and bends down to sink his teeth into the side of her left breast. She wails from a pain so great she hardly notices his slick cock pushing into her.

And just like that she's violated. His eye intense enough that she looks away, pretends its someone else.

How could he do this after all the begging. How could she have been so wrong about him?

There wail turns to whimpering as he begins to push inside her. Unlike the sweet, soft man she knows, he doesn't take his weight from her or use his hands to balance. He grabs her hair and pulls it. There's a little slap of her head against the dirt with every thrust. Slow now, thud…thud….thud…but it's gaining speed.

It's only helped back by how sensitive she can tell he is from the light hisses and gasps as he moves out of her.

It's enough, she realizes. It's enough to get him going and she isn't even trying. She's not clenching or stroking. She's just there, like a human toy, and that's enough for him to love every little piece of her.

He fucks her faster and something about that lights a fire inside. She tells it to die down, but it's only getting louder. The part of her that she didn't know was there. The part that wanted to be used. That enjoys this man using her just for this purpose.

“You're just a hole.”

He pries the bag out of her mouth and she knows what he wants “I'm just a hole.” She says it again the tears stopping.

There's a look of pleasure on his face, the facade breaking. His hands let her hair go, dig deep into the dirt and that's when he really starts pounding. He makes full strikes, slick and easy from the their bodies. He rails into her, eyes fixed on each other.

She's getting wetter, hotter. She starts to feel her stroke him against her will. But then it's not. She's controlling it, making it happen. She might as well own it, try and squeeze him for all she's worth as he slides further in than he typically goes. Until his skin is slamming against hers.

So she chokes his cock with her pussy. No, her cunt.

His hand comes up and slaps her tit and she growls back, lifts her head up bite down into his chest so hard that she grind through his shirt. She feels his hand crack her face again but this time, as she lets go of his flesh, it doesn't sting. He grabs her hair, pulls it so hard she can feel her neck contort as he does, but is still somehow distant.

“Fuck me you pussy,” she says. “Fuck me you piece of shit.” “I'll fucking kill you.” His teeth are grit.

But just like she said at the start his endurance couldn't begin to match hers. He was faster, but she lasted longer. “You won't fucking kill me, you love this too much. You need this.”

The big bad wolf huffs and puffs but has no retort. Now she's stroking his cock with everything she has. She brings her hands to his hips to try and get him to buck even faster. “Come on! Fuck me! Fuck your little slut!”

He starts going a mile a minute, the beast in his eyes howling and swimming through his body like the monster he is.

“Harder!” Amy screams it and, as she finishes the word, continues it as a wail. Transforming that R into a scream, lifting her face up until it's inches from his as she tries to keep the pace of her hands up with his thrusts.

They scream together.

And then he cums inside her so deep she's certain it'll never leave. And as he does, she wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his torso, and clings to him with everything she has to make it go deeper.

After breathing a moment she realizes that this is not okay. Something was woken in her and not yet put to sleep.

She pushes him away, and when he looks back to her the beast is gone. Just that silly, worthless man who's no good to her now. She cracks him across the face and when he tries to hold her hand still she balls the other into a fist and punches him in the eye before kicking him square in the stomach with both feet.

He contorts and falls onto his side, then his back–and shes on top of him. Now it's her turn to pin him down with her legs, to crack him repeatedly across the face with slaps so hard her hand glows red and is numb immediately. “Why are you soft? Isn't this what you wanted?” Slap. “Isn't this your fantasy?” Slap. “Or can you only get it hard when you're getting your way?”

She chokes him, his neck so large that she has to use both hands and, when he tries to grip her hands, she cocks him in the eye with her shoulder blade before digging a finger into the gaping wound in his thigh from the branch until it starts bleeding again.

Then she feels his cock getting hard and laughs. She lets go like he couldn't harm her, pushes her mouth over his cock and slides it down her throat with ease. She feels the pleasure she can only imagine he did as he twitches, groans, the sensitivity of it too much. “Poor monster,” she says before licking the ridge of his cock in such a way his legs spasm. “Is this too much for you?”

A punch to his check and then she's on top of him, impaling herself. “You better not fucking cum again.” For good measure she slaps him one more before digging her knees in the ground, putting her hands on his chest and starting to ride him. The power is dizzying and she feels like another person. Like someone that didn't exist before today.

Like someone born anew.

And all the worries and techniques she's thought of before when astride him are gone. There is only him, her, and the rhythm.

His hands come up, hold her waist, allow her to bend forward and dip down, get more of his curved cock into her at just the right spot.

She takes advantage of it, holds him close with her hands as he pulls her back down over and over again to his cock.

She cums around him so tense it takes a moment for her to seep out onto him. Then she is dead atop him as she feels his cock slowly get soft inside her.

Her body betrays her a dozen ways. It nuzzles its nose against his chest and even gives it light kisses. It strokes his face. It is limp and easy and hazy even though she says it's no time to relax.

They open their eyes and look at one another. No him or her—just them. Them again. He laughs first and then groans and grabs his punctured thigh. When she laughs at him the pain enters her body and she can feel the soreness and swelling in her face.

They take a moment to breath in, adjust, accept the pain in silence. Then he helps her to her feet, hands her back the clothing he ripped off her and the drink out of her canteen before eating everything but the almonds.

When she shivers, the sun starting to retreat for the day, and he takes off his flannel and wraps it around her. Before he pulls a GPS out of the backpack. They walk for a bit but, even though she says she's fine, he carries her. First in his arms while she holds the GPS, then over his left shoulder until he is too tired to do so. After a small break he puts her over his right.

She can hardly believe the small, hidden cabin when they arrive. It is run down and dusty, ill-kept and quaint—and perfect in every way.

He lays her on the bed and tells her to rest and she immediately falls into a deep, hard sleep.

When she wakes he's with her. They kiss long and slow, then he takes her body into his arms, guides her to a bathtub and lowers her body into the too-warm water.

She lounges in it as he plays with her hair, takes a sponge from his backpack and washes every piece of dirt, blood and grime off her. Makes her whole again with his touch.

Then he pulls her out of the tub and dries her like she is pristine.

When she asks how he could find her so easily he pulls a tracking device out of the bottom of the canteen.

She is furious, but he tells her that it would be so he could find her, so that nothing could happen to her, and she accepts it reluctantly.

Then they fold into each other and sleep the day away.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2xuqlc/anew_mfrape_fantasyand_not_so_much