[MF] That time a friend of mine asked me to fulfill her darkest fantasy

Hello again. In case you couldn’t tell from the title, this escapade is going to get pretty dark. It’s about acting out a rape fantasy, and we got *very* into it. Sensitive types, triggered types – you’ve been warned. This story is long, and it is graphic. For those of you who enjoy this type of thing, here you go. For the rest of you, I will have something much lighter next time.

Onward we go…

This takes place between my first story and my second – smack in the middle, actually. I was home for the summer again before my last year of college, staying at my mom’s house. Bill’s living situation had changed since the previous year, so the awesome bro-time house from before wasn’t an option anymore. I was kind of in a bad place emotionally; I was fresh off of one of the many breakups with my on-again-off-again college girlfriend (who I will probably share some stories about in the future because she was absolutely nutter butters), I was working a crummy job selling appliances (no commission), I was starting to get anxious about life after college, there was some family drama going on, and I was a loser living at my mom’s house. There was lots of drinking during this time. The bad kind of drinking. The “fuck all of this” kind, not the “let’s get hammered and make pizza rolls, wooo!” kind.

Ashley was also in a bad place. We had dated very briefly many years earlier, but it was very awkward and the most we ever did physically was make out a bit (never even copped a feel). We’d stayed in contact since then and became good friends eventually, chatting online a lot over the years. Mostly about dirty stuff, our sex lives and things like that. It was fun having a girl who wasn’t my girlfriend to talk to about that kind of stuff…kind of a thrill, you know?

She had made some bad decisions and done some pretty rough living, though. She got hooked up with a guy who ended up being kind of crazy and actually had a kid with him. By the time the kid was two, she couldn’t take being with his dad anymore and wanted out. But the guy’s father was rich and connected, and Ashley had made some bad choices in the past…and the present…long story short, she lost custody of the kid about six months or so before this story takes place.

I was miserable, Ashley was miserable, and we were both single at the same time. Eventually it occurred to us that we could…brighten each other’s lives a bit in some very specific ways. The first time we hung out in the same physical space in five years, we hooked up.

So began a rather physically fulfilling friends-with-benefits situation. We kept it secret – we had a lot of the same friends and didn’t want social awkwardness on top of our already considerable misery. This meant we spent a pretty penny on hotels.

A few weeks after we started hooking up, another friend of mine asked me a favor. She had her own photography business and had booked a couple gigs out of town, and her husband was her backup photographer. She knew I was pretty bored and depressed about being at my mom’s place, so she asked if I’d like to house sit for them for a couple weekends in July. It’d get me out of my mom’s house and let me unwind a bit, but the big draw for me (which I kept to myself) was that I’d finally have a free place for me and Ashley to bang it out.

So I gladly accepted.

The first weekend was fine, pretty standard sexy times. I mentioned to Ashley on Friday that I’d have the place to myself the following weekend too. She didn’t really seem to react at first, just a “Hmm, I see,” sort of response, but apparently it got her thinking.

The next morning, she sat me down at the kitchen table to have a talk. I was worried that we were going to have the “state of our relationship” talk and that our FWB arrangement would soon be history, but that was not the case.

“So…I have this fantasy I haven’t really told anyone about,” she started.

I was immediately relieved and intrigued at the same time. We’d spent years talking about our sex lives. What could she be keeping from me still?

“Oh yeah?” I asked.

She fidgeted a bit. “It’s a rape fantasy.”

My face probably showed more of a reaction than I wanted, but I didn’t say anything.

She continued. “I think we should do it.”

I definitely reacted that time. “You want me…to pretend to rape you?”

She squirmed again, still not looking me in the eye. “Yeah, if you’re okay with it.”

She’d never mentioned it to any of her boyfriends because she was worried what they’d think of her, but she had known me for years and we were currently strictly FWB only. This meant that I was in a unique position; Ashley knew me well enough to trust me acting out a rape fantasy, and we weren’t *romantically* involved with each other so she wasn’t terribly concerned about what I’d think of her after hearing about this. I would either tell her no thanks and we’d continue with our arrangement, or I’d say sure thing and she’d get to finally do something about this bug in her brain.

I chose the latter. As I said before, we were both in a pretty dark place at the time, and both in the “fuck all of this” mode of college-age alcoholism, so…why not? New experiences, right?

We spent the next day making a plan and laying out the rules. This would all go down the following Saturday, at the house I was sitting. Ashley had several rules and guidelines:

* She wanted it to be as realistic as we could manage, none of this fakey porno-style stuff where they do every position and the woman occasionally lets out a couple half-assed oh-no’s between moans. This was to be nasty, brutal, and quick.
* She would be fighting back, so…heads up.
* She did not want to know what I had planned.
* She would arrive at the house around 5:00 PM. Once she set foot inside, we would assume our respective roles.
* A safe word was established. A safe hand signal was also established, just in case her mouth was indisposed. She had clearly done some research on this kind of thing.
* No dick in the butt (aka “stay out of brown town”).

In order to motivate me to deliver a good performance, she came up with win/loss scenarios. If I managed to “finish,” I would win and could do whatever I wanted with/to her the rest of the weekend. If she managed to get away from me and make it to either a phone or out the door, she would win and I would have to go down on her whenever and wherever she wanted for a week (and I would receive no sexual satisfaction from her during that week – so basically if I won, she would be my property for the weekend, and if she won, I would be hers for a week).

The rewards were stacked heavily in her favor, but I guess that was the point – to really make me give it my all.

We had a spare key made, which she hung onto and would use on the big day to let herself in. On Sunday we parted ways, and I was left to prepare.

~~~~~~~~~~

The house was a small two-story thing with a layout sort of similar to a town home. The first floor had the kitchen, the living room area, laundry, utilities, etc., and the second floor had the bedrooms and bathrooms. Upon walking in the front door, you’d see the stairway leading up directly in front of you and the living room area on your left. The kitchen and everything else were further to the back of the house. There was a closet under the stairway, its door opening to face the living room.

It was in this closet that I found myself at 5:00 on that fateful day, and it was starting to get warm. I was in a dark grey hoodie and sweatpants. I looked a little goofy, but I figured it would allow me to move quietly. I had some zipties in my left pocket and a pocketknife in my right. I had the hood pulled over my head and the drawstrings pulled tight; it obscured my face a bit for the illusion, but still allowed me to see. No boxers – I intended to make this quick like she wanted.

5:10. She was running late. Or allowing suspense to build. I had the closet door cracked a bit so I could see into the living room.

Throughout the week leading up to this, I tried not to think too much about it. I knew that people had kinks like this, of course – I just never really thought I’d be asked to help someone indulge in it. I know it’s perfectly normal for people to have sexual fantasies about certain things and that, with clear communication and trust between partners, acting them out in a safe environment was perfectly healthy. Something still made me feel a little uneasy about it though, so I was mostly on autopilot throughout the planning process. Standing in that closet, though, moments away from the act itself, I could feel my stomach flipping.

————————————————————-

*click*

I heard a key turning in the lock on the front door and instinctively held my breath. Everything suddenly seemed much too quiet.

The door opened, then shut and locked. I could hear Ashley moving around near the stairs, probably putting her purse and keys on the small table by the front door. Then she walked towards the kitchen, and I managed to get a look at her.

Ashley was about 5’7″, and pretty skinny. She did have a bit of a butt, and her breasts had grown to a decent C cup (both probably a result of having a kid – she was rail thin back in our youth). She was half Mexican and half white, but mostly looked white. She had straight, light brown hair that she’d grown down to her middle back, and hazel eyes. The one way she did look decidedly Mexican was in her facial features; her nose was narrow and long, and her cheekbones soft and round. She was a bit on the pale side, with a light smattering of freckles across her face and shoulders.

Today, she was dressed like a schoolteacher as we discussed…but not just any schoolteacher. She took it a few steps further and turned it into some kind of turn of the century schoolmarm/secretary/librarian style getup. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and she had a big pair of glasses on. Her top was one of those loose, pleated-looking long sleeved button downs with the really high collar. Down below, she was wearing a modest looking black pencil skirt, down to just past her knees. She was wearing heels before, but took them off when she got into the house and was now barefoot.

Basically, she was wearing [this getup](https://thepragmaticcostumer.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/img_0797-e1406661106177.jpg) except the shirt was white and the skirt was black. And her glasses were bigger.

Something about seeing her done up like that just got me ready. To. Go. She had gone all out, and I knew I should match her enthusiasm. Autopilot mode was off, and it was time to get into character.

She was in the kitchen now, it sounded like, getting something to drink maybe.

*There’s a landline phone in the kitchen and in the master bedroom upstairs. Her cell is probably in her purse, on the table by the front door. If I attack her on the stairs, I can block her off from the doors outside and two of the three phones in the house.*

For a split second, part of me felt really fucked up thinking like that. I quickly buried it…I was playing a role…I was acting. That’s all there was to it.

Ashley stepped into the living room and back into my line of sight again. She turned the TV on and stood there for a moment, watching it, her back to me. I reached down the front of my sweatpants and began tugging on my quickly stiffening dick while staring at her ass. She looked good in that skirt.

After a few moments, she turned and headed towards the stairs. My heart started racing. This was it. Almost go time.

She started up. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four…five…six…seven…

I pushed the closet door open as quietly as I could and ducked out to the left. The stairway was open part of the way up, and I didn’t want her to see me coming. I crept to the foot of the stairs.

Eight…nine…ten…

I turned and lunged up the stairs, three at a time.

The staircase went straight up about 3/4 of the way to the second floor, then there was a small landing and they turned 90 degrees to the left for the rest of the way. When I caught up to Ashley, she was almost to the landing.

I reached up and grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her leg out from under her. She fell forward hard, her torso on the landing and her legs on the stairs, without so much as a peep. I guess I’d managed to surprise her after all. I used my momentum to continue up the stairs and lay my body down on top of hers, pinning her down. I reached up to grab her arms (my dick rubbing against her ass while I did so), sprawled in front of her in a vain attempt to catch her fall, and pulled them behind her back. I had one of my zipties ready and successfully managed to bind her wrists behind her back.

I got all of that done in about three seconds. At that point, she’d collected herself enough to start fighting back.

“HELP!” Ashley screamed at the top of her lungs. She began to buck and kick wildly, struggling to find some leverage to use against me. Within moments, she managed to get her knees planted on one of the steps and threw everything she had backwards into me. It worked – she was able to push me clear off of her, back up onto my feet and almost completely down the stairs.

While I struggled to regain my footing, she stood up and attempted to run up the stairs. Her hands being tied behind her back made it hard for her to balance, and she was stumbling a bit. She was standing on the landing when I caught back up to her.

“SOMEBODY HEL–” I shoved her hard into the wall directly in front of her, and her yell ended with a grunt as she crumpled against it. I grabbed her by the shoulders from behind.

“Shut the *fuck up*, bitch,” I growled. I spun her around to face me and slammed her back against the wall. Her eyes were wild, the glasses she’d previously been wearing now on the ground next to us. A red splotch was forming on her cheek where she hit the wall.

I grabbed two handfuls of the front of her shirt and ripped it open, buttons popping off as her tits spilled out. She was wearing a very plain-looking white bra (*something her character would wear*, I remember thinking). The high collar of her shirt was intact and still buttoned.

Ashley struggled some more and attempted to kick me, screaming and shouting the whole time. I pinned her by the neck against the wall using my left forearm and pulled my pocketknife out with my right hand. I flipped the blade open and held it in front of her face. Her eyes grew even wider than before.

“I said SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.”

She stopped squirming momentarily and quieted down. I removed my arm from her throat, grabbed at her bra with my left hand, and used the knife in my right to cut it open in the middle. The cups fell away, hanging uselessly at her sides, and I saw that her perky, light-brown nipples were hard. I reached up and roughly groped her tit with my left hand–

“FUCK YOU!”

Pain exploded across my face, and my vision went blank. It felt like my brain was rebooted.

Ashley had headbutted me. She really was not fucking around with this fantasy.

I fell backward and landed square on my ass on the landing, luckily managing to avoid falling down the stairs and breaking my neck. My vision was still shot, but I heard a distinct crunch of breaking plastic as my leg came down. I must’ve broken the glasses.

I heard her scrambling around. It sounded like she had fallen down too, and was now trying to get up the remaining steps. My vision was returning, and I was able to see her blurry form reach the top of the stairs and fall straight down onto her front once again, in the hallway just outside one of the bedrooms.

I was still in quite a bit of pain, but I knew I had to take advantage of this opportunity. I pulled myself up and quickly cleared the remaining steps, leaving the pocketknife behind where it had fallen.

Ashley was laying still. Her eyes were open but unfocused. She must have landed the headbutt in a bad way and ended up just as hurt as I was.

I got down on my knees and reached under the back of her skirt, grabbing her panties and yanking them down and out as hard as I could. I managed to get them completely off before she had come around enough to start fighting back again. The kicks came hard and fast. She was still stunned on her stomach and her aim wasn’t so great, but she managed to connect a few glancing blows on my chest and shoulder.

The pain in my forehead was becoming an intense pounding throb, and it made me angry. I stood up and stepped carefully around her as she flopped around, straddled her, and sat down facing forward on her upper back (making sure my junk was well out of the reach of her bound hands). She continued struggling and continued shouting, but in the position I was in she couldn’t do either very effectively.

I had her panties in my hand. They were plain white, granny style (again, true to the character she was playing), and, I couldn’t help but notice, had a considerable wet spot in the front.

I wadded them up, grabbed her by the hair bun, yanked her head upward, and stuffed them into her mouth, making sure to get my fingers out before she could bite down. I left her enough leeway to be able to spit them out if she needed to say the safe word.

I pulled her head up further and leaned in next to her ear. I could see another big red mark forming, this one on her forehead. I could only imagine what mine looked like.

“Shut the fuck up or you’re dead.”

I dropped her head back onto the ground and stood up. I heard a muffled whimper escape her mouth. I grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her backwards towards the stairs, her bare tits dragging painfully across the carpeted floor.

I stepped down onto the landing and pulled Ashley partially along with me. I left her upper body laying on the second floor, with her waist at the top of the stairs and her legs splayed out below. This would give me a decent angle of entry from the stairs.

I got down on my knees between her legs a few steps down. I grabbed both sides of her skirt and yanked it up towards her head, exposing her bare ass and pussy. At this, she started wriggling again, swinging her legs up wildly behind her in an attempt to kick me in the back while she shouted muffled pleas through her panty gag.

I leaned forward and grabbed her by the hair bun again, lifted her head up, yelled “STOP,” and bounced her head back down onto the floor. She complied, and started whimpering softly.

I got back in position and pulled my sweatpants down around my knees, my cock springing out and slapping lazily against her ass. When she felt that, she immediately started fighting again, swinging her legs up behind her and waggling her fingers impotently against her back. Her whimpers grew louder and more frequent as she realized there was no way she could connect with a kick in this position. She was finally powerless and exposed.

“Mmph! Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!” her cries came as she kicked away at nothing. I decided to let her keep kicking this time.

I spit generously onto my open palm, grabbed my cock, and placed the swollen head just between her lips.

“MMPH! MMPH!” She kicked harder and moaned louder.

I gave it a few strokes with my spit-covered hand to lube it up a bit.

One, two, three…

I pushed my dick into her as hard and as fast as I could until I was buried completely inside her cunt. I felt the chill of the wooden stairs against my balls.

“MMMMMMMMMMmmmMmMmMMPPPHHHHHHHhhhh!” Ashley let out one long, agonizing, muffled wail as I penetrated her.

She wasn’t exactly bone dry (as evidenced by her panties earlier), but it was still a challenge for the first few thrusts. I got into a good rhythm, fucking without any consideration for her or her enjoyment. She whimpered as I leaned forward and slid a hand under her, grabbing onto one of her tits and using it as leverage to pull her back against me as I fucked.

Then a slightly devious idea popped into my mind.

*She said I couldn’t put my DICK in her ass…*

While continuing to pound away, I stuck my thumb in my mouth and generously coated it with saliva. I placed my hand flat against the small of her back, fingers facing her head, for a few thrusts. Then, as I pulled her back towards me, I jammed my thumb down to the knuckle into her asshole.

Ashley’s head immediately jerked upwards and she pulled her body forward away from me.

“**MMMMMMPPPPPPPPHHHHHH!!!**”

Everything clenched up – her asshole around my thumb and her pussy around my cock. I waited a moment – if she was going to use the safe signals, this would be the time. She did not spit out the panties, and her hands were closed into fists, so she was not using the finger signals.

I continued fucking her, my left hand pulling her towards me by her tit and my right thumb buried inside her ass. I could hear what sounded like half moans, half sobs as I pounded her relentlessly, mechanically.

The stimulation and excitement of the whole thing proved to be more than I could handle – I was able to continue like this for maybe a minute before I felt my balls tightening. Unceremoniously, I leaned into her with my final thrust, grunted, and emptied a load deep inside Ashley’s pussy. She stopped wriggling and stopped moaning then – just laid still and quiet as I began to grow soft inside of her.

I leaned back and removed my dick and my thumb from her, a slight spasm jolting across her body as I did so, making her pale ass jiggle briefly. I pulled my pants up and stood up.

“Wait here for five minutes. I’ll know if you don’t.”

She did not respond, laying still and quiet, her eyes distant and red. I walked downstairs and out the side door into the garage. I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator out there and sat down to drink it and cool off a bit. My heart was still pounding like crazy, and the pain was starting to return to my forehead. The whole thing, from the time I left the closet to the time I…er…”won,” probably took less than ten minutes, but it felt like slow motion.

I finished my beer and grabbed one for Ashley, making my way back into the house. I began to feel anxious – worried that maybe I’d somehow missed a safe signal or taken things too far.

I headed back up the stairs and found her exactly where I left her. Legs spread wide, ass up in the air, I could see my cum dripping out of her swollen cunt and onto the stairs. Her skirt was partially inside out, hiked up around her waist and stomach. The shirt and bra were a total loss, buttons scattered on the steps. Her head was still on the ground, facing away from me. I had wreaked chaos upon her body, and this was the aftermath.

She turned her head to face me as I got closer. Her vision focused and she was staring intently at my face.

I removed her panties from her mouth and tossed them aside. I retrieved the knife from the steps below.

“So…how, uh….how was it?” I asked her nervously, as I cut the ziptie from her wrists.

Her hands free, she slowly rolled around to face me, sitting on one of the top steps gingerly. She made no effort to cover her exposed breasts, or to pull her skirt back down to cover her pussy. I handed her the beer I brought for her.

“Everything I hoped it would be,” Ashley said, a wicked smile creeping up on her makeup-smeared face. She took a generous swig of beer. “Also, holy shit, you’re going to have two black eyes.”

I instinctively reached up and touched my face, and was immediately med with intense pain.

“Fuuuuuuck.”

She took another swig and slowly stood up. She straightened the skirt out and pulled it back down, and removed the ruined shirt and bra completely. Her left breast had a big, red, vaguely hand-shaped blotch on it, and the one on her forehead had a slight purple twinge forming in the center.

“Well Glib…I guess you won. What should I do?”

I was relieved that she was okay with what had happened. At that point, more sex was the farthest thing from my mind. My face hurt, and I was tired.

I pointed to the goopy mess we left on the stairs.

“Clean that up. And bring me a beer and some ice. I’m going downstairs.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5b06wh/mf_that_time_a_friend_of_mine_asked_me_to_fulfill