[MF] Raping the girl next door (rapeplay, raceplay)

I watched outside the sliding glass door of the ski chalet as Karnika stepped into her room. It was cold outside, and I was eager to get inside and warm up. Warm up inside of her: she wore a white bathrobe set off beautifully against her olive skin, tied carelessly at the waist and almost giving anyone spying on her a glimpse of her dusky breasts.

Here I was. I was going to rape her.

Let me back up. It’s not what you think.

The fact is, Karnika and I grew up together. We lived next door to each other from the time we were toddlers till… Well, forever. Our parents still live next door, and are close friends. As kids, we always played together, going over to one another’s houses constantly, having family barbecues weekly, walking to school together and doing homework in each other’s rooms.

As you might imagine, we drifted apart as we got older. There was nothing that really precipitated the drift. Well, there was ONE thing…

We were fourteen and AOL Instant Messenger was still the preferred means of communication among adolescents. I remember it so clearly—I was, like most fourteen year old boys, painfully horny all the time and hungry for any taste of female flesh. One afternoon, two of Karnika’s friends messaged me, asking if I liked her—they wouldn’t say why. I’d maybe always had a bit of a crush on her, but any real feelings towards her that I had then were more carnal than anything. Still, I replied that I did indeed like her. I was then informed that Karnika liked me back and I should tell her.

I did this in the most awkward, early 2000’s way possible—again, over AIM. I told her I thought she was really hot (she certainly was, and is: tall, with long dark hair and almost pitch black eyes you can get lost in, with a slender body then that has filled out to become sensually curvy in adulthood) and that I couldn’t stop thinking about making out with her. I asked if I could come over. She said I could. We made out on the couch in her parents’ basement, clothes came off, and then we awkwardly fumbled out way into losing our virginities.

I messaged Karnika again the next day, asking if I could come over. She said yes. We had sex again. It was magic, as far as I was concerned—was this what dating was? Sex on demand?

Then, Karnika’s friends messaged me again, told me that she didn’t want to date me, and that we were over. Friendship cooled. No more sex.

Yet, if this change were apparent to our parents, they gave no indication. If I were ever home on a Friday or Saturday night, they’d casually suggest I call Karnika and see if she were busy. I’m sure both sets of parents fantasized about us getting married, and family vacations together with a cadre of Irish-Indian kids toddling around.

Eventually, they decided to act on this desire. It was the winter after I graduated from college that my parents informed me that they were going on a ski trip with Karnika’s family. Karnika would be coming, and I should too.

By this point, I had barely talked to her for five or six years, but I definitely wasn’t opposed to seeing her again. I’d been more confused than anything by our “breakup” and after the initial awkwardness, we’d always been friendly, if distant. We went to different colleges and now lived in different cities, according to Facebook. But hey, free ski trip.

The first night was satisfactorily bland: her parents asked me about college, about what I was doing now, my parents did the same for Karnika. Everyone was proud of everyone else for where we had gone to college and what we were doing now. Plans for graduate school were suggested, with a general air of optimism. Karnika and I barely talked to one another.

That night, I stopped by the bar at the resort, ordered a hot toddy, and fired up Tinder. I had vague fantasies of finding a cute little snow bunny for the week, someone else stuck here with her parents and looking for release. My Tinder profile is pretty slick, if I do say so myself, with a nice combination of pictures—me with friends on a camping trip, me looking pensive in a nice suit, me holding a kitten, me finishing a 5k. I’m a bit flirty, with only one hint gesturing towards the constellation of fetishes I possess—a line like “I’d love to tie you up and see where the night goes. Just sayin.’” It’s dumb, but that line works wonders—it’s like a code word for all the perverts of the world.

As I flipped left and right, I came upon something I completely didn’t expect: Karnika’s profile. There she was, in a tight black bikini, her generous tits overflowing the top, a casual look of sexy disinterest on her pretty face. Without a second thought, I swiped right.

And it was a match. This trip was getting more interesting, needless to say. I messaged her immediately: “So, having any luck with this?”

Radio silence for five minutes, and then a reply: “Literally none. What about you?”

I replied without thinking: “None until now.”

Her reply: “Lolz. Why’d you swipe for me?”

Mine: “Saw hot girl. Swiped.”

Her: “You’ve already seen me naked.”

Me: “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to see you naked again.”

Her: “Lol. I gave you that one.”

Me: “So why’d you swipe for me?”

Her: “I guess I wanted to see if you’d swipe for me.”

Me: “And here we are.”

Her: “And here we are.”

This wasn’t going quite as nicely as I had wanted, but I persevered—

Me: “I’m at the bar by the ski rental. Come out for a drink?”

Her: “I’m already wearing pajamas. You can come over though. Don’t get any ideas. My parents are still awake and I’m watching SVU.”

I figured that was about as good an invitation as I was going to get, so I set off, tracing the snowy trails back to the two generous chalets our families had rented, right next to each other. I knocked and Karnika greeted me, clad, as she had said, in pajamas—a sweatshirt from her college, a pair of baggy pajama pants, and glasses, which she rarely wore anymore.

“Come on in. Don’t worry about my parents. They’d be so happy if they thought we were fucking.”

“Mine too. I’d hate to disappoint them.”

“Oh, shut up. They’re just about to describe the rape in court. This is my favorite part of every SVU.”

She ushered me into the living room and we watched as special guest star Dakota Fanning described a horrific attack that had left her permanently sterile.

“This show is like crack,” Karnika murmured. “I can zone out so easily watching it.”

My attention was more focused on the curves of her body—Karnika’s generous ass, highlighted by the massive Juicy logo spread out over her cheeks.

“You know, I’ve actually masturbated while watching this show. Like, while they talk about the rapes and shit. How fucked up is that?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think it’s fucked up. To each her own.”

I edged a little nearer to her. She glanced at me.

“You like to tie girls up, huh?”

“That’s one of my hobbies, I’d say.”

“You didn’t try to tie me up in high school.”

“I didn’t know I wanted to.”

“You know, I thought you were just going to use me for sex. I really liked you.”

I was at a loss for words. I shrugged and shook my head.

“I was a little shit. I should have taken you out on dates, romanced you. I thought we had fun, though.”

“It hurt for me, you know. Both times.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“I kind of liked that it hurt.”

“Yeah?”

She bit her lip and nodded, not meeting my gaze.

“Yeah. I liked the way you left me sore. I was kind of disappointed it didn’t happen like that again.”

“Here’s a win for shitty sex, I guess,” I said with another shrug as she playfully punched me.

“I mean, I didn’t know what I wanted. But I do now.”

“You want me to tie you up,” I said immediately, thinking I had pieced it together.

“Not exactly.”

She glanced back at the screen where the credits were rolling.

“I want you to rape me. Or, at least, that’s my fantasy. It’s been my fantasy for a while. To be raped. I cum so fast when I think about it. You don’t need to tell me how fucked up it is, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not—that’s just a fantasy. Lots of people have that fantasy.”

“Right?” she said, her face breaking into a relieved smile. “So many of my friends have the same fantasy or, like, something similar. But I feel like, I don’t know, a bad feminist, if I think about it. Much less cum while thinking about it.”

“You’ve never tried anything like that?”

“I’ve had pretty rough sex, I guess.” It was her turn to shrug. “And, like, I think racism kind of turns me on? I hooked up with a guy when I studying abroad in London and he called me a ‘paki’ when he finished on my face, and I like exploded right then and there. I’m not even Pakistani. Something about it, just… did it for me.”

I nodded. I was rock hard.

“Well, I can be real rough, if you want…” I said, reaching for her shoulder. She allowed me to guide her closer, drawing her eyes down before meeting me. We kissed a few times, and I identified the taste of red wine on her lips.

“You’re a way better kisser than you were in high school,” she whispered as we broke apart.

“You’ve always been great.” She shoved me gently and I slid my hands underneath her sweatshirt, finding her smooth, warm belly. I started to move my hands up her body but she pushed them away.

“No. This is what I want. You’re going to rape me. I think I trust you, right? There’s no reason I shouldn’t trust you?”

“I mean, if there were, I probably wouldn’t tell you. And if I did, you shouldn’t trust my answer.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m going out on a limb here. But even when we were kids… You know, after I like… Dumped you… I fantasized that you would come over and just… Take me. Take me by force. Do that every day after school. And I’d try to put up a fight, but every day, I’d be soaked by the time I got home. Ready for you to…”

“Rape you,” I finished the sentence for her. She exhaled, taking visible pleasure in the words.

“That’s right.”

“How are we going to do this, then? Why shouldn’t I hold you down right now and fuck you into this couch?”

She jabbed her head in the direction of her parents’ room.

“They’re going to a show tomorrow evening. I think your parents are too. You’re not going, right?”

I was not—it was an classic rock retrospective put on by a local band, obviously directed at the sixty and over crowd.

“They leave at six-thirty. I’m going to take a shower at seven. My room is on the first floor. There’s a sliding glass door. You should be outside it by seven-thirty. I’ll come back in from my shower and I’ll probably be mostly naked. The house will be empty except for me. That’s where you take over.”

“And do what?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Like, within reason, though—“ she said quickly, pressing a finger over my lips. “Don’t stick it in my ass. Don’t piss on me or anything like that. Don’t leave any permanent marks or anything I can’t cover up with a turtle neck. Am I missing anything?”

“Here—this is what we’ll do. If I do something you’re nervous about, say ‘yellow’ and I’ll slow down. And if I go too far, say ‘red’ and I’ll stop. And…”

“You’ll ask me ‘Green?’ periodically once I’m a sobbing mess. I get it.”

“Exactly.”

“Wear a condom. I’ve got an IUD and I’ve been tested recently—but I don’t know about you. I’m already trusting you with a lot.”

I had recently been tested too, and I told her as much. Her face changed.

“Well. Maybe no condom would… heighten the drama. Make it scarier.”

“I think so.”

“You can be a little racist too. I’ll tell you if you go too far, but shit doesn’t really offend me.”

“How did I ever let you slip through my fingers?”

She pressed another kiss to my lips.

“I spent four years asking myself that same question.”

~

The next day went by far too slowly. I went skiing, but constantly found myself looking for Karnika on the slopes. I had texted her in the morning, asking if she was still down, and she was—but I hadn’t heard from her. Finally, nearing the evening, I saw her waiting in line for hot cocoa. I sidled up behind her and pressed my lips to her ear.

“You look like you could use some company tonight,” I growled. She jumped and then visibly shivered.

“Go away, you perv,” she murmured. But I pressed on.

“Where do you live, girl? I’m gonna’ pay a visit to you.”

She glanced back at me and I saw from the look in her eyes she was eating it up.

“Fuck you. I’ll call security.”

I slid an arm around her waist, and it quickly fell to her ass.

“You ain’t gonna’ do anything of the sort, you brown bitch.” I felt her shiver.

“Get out of here. I’ll scream.”

“It’ll be hard for you to scream with my cock in your mouth.”

She pressed her ass back into the crook of my arm for a second before darting away from me.

I blew her a kiss and winked at her as I drifted away. I saw a smile playing on her lips as she pretended to be mad.

That evening, my parents tried one more time to entice me to join them at the show, but I, naturally, refused. Once they were gone, I dressed all in black, wearing a black turtle neck, a black beanie, and black jeans. I even had a ski mask to add to the mix. I looked suitably disreputable, and I opted to leave the mask off until I was in place, in case anyone thought I was an actual criminal.

At seven-thirty, I was crouched outside Karnika’s room. I watched her enter, watched her peer into the darkness outside. She undid her robe a little bit and it fell apart, revealing the large brown nipples crowning her plump tits, her belly—certainly not flat or muscled, but with a pleasing softness to it, and the dark triangle between her legs.

She turned back around and began to blow dry her wet hair. I eased open the glass door and crept in, sliding the door closed before advancing on my target. I tried to stay low, so she wouldn’t see me in a mirror. The noise from the blow dryer covered my footsteps as I came up behind her and rose to my full height. I clapped a hand over her mouth and through a hand around her waist, turning as I threw her onto the bed. She let out a startled yelp of surprise as the blow dryer was torn out of the socket, clattering to the floor and breaking into two or three pieces. Oh well.

“Who the hell are you?” she shrieked. Her robe was fully open now, giving me a perfect, unobstructed view of her tits, and her slightly spread legs revealed that she was already wet.

“Remember me, you paki cunt?” I growled, straddling her. She tried to kick me off but I grabbed her by the throat and shook her. She gasped, trying to wiggle away, trying to kick me, but I caught her by the hair and slapped her.

“Green?” I asked quickly.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Green.”

Another slap. We’d think of a good story to explain any marks.

“Please, don’t hurt me…” she whimpered as I pulled her hair, as I gripped her hard. She tried to push me away again but when I raised my hand, she flinched. “Please, I didn’t do anything to you…”

“I’ve been thinking about this wet little brown cunt all day,” I grunted, forcing a hand between her legs. She let out a startled sob as I forced two fingers inside of her.

“Mm, you dumb slut. Already wet.”

“No, you’re lying, stop,” she groaned, trying to twist away as I forced the two fingers, sticky with her juices, into her mouth. She gagged as I pressed them into her throat and tried to bite me. I slapped her once more.

“Don’t you dare bite me, you brown cunt. Or they’re going to find your pretty corpse thawing in the spring.”

I began to undo my pants as the tears began to stream from Karnika’s eyes.

“Please, don’t do this. Please, please, please…”

Holding her by the hair, I pressed her face to my crotch, revealing my throbbing shaft as I did.

“No biting, bitch. Or else your night is going to be a whole lot shorter that any of us ever would have thought.”

“No, please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt me,” she said, shaking her head.

“Dumb slut,” I grunted, forcing her mouth open. With a gag, she took my cock, her beautiful brown eyes pink from crying as she inhaled my cock. I began to fuck her face, thrusting my hips into her as she gagged, as she tried to pull off of me, but I wouldn’t let her—she even retched onto my cock a few times, gagging hard as I buried her face in my pubic hair.

“Let’s see that cunt,” I ordered her. “Spread your legs and show me.”

“No, please…” she whimpered, her voice hoarse already, spit dripping from her lips and onto her tits. I slapped her breasts hard and she yelped, but only pressed her legs together tighter. I drove my fingers between her legs and finally forced them apart, being rewarded with a vision of her dusty brown cunt, and the wet, pinkness peaking out.

“All bitches are pink on the inside, huh?” I growled, groping her mound as she let out a hard, body racking sob.

“Please, please, please, don’t do this…” she sobbed. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You disrespected me, you brown cunt,” I hissed back straddling her and pressing my cock against her wetness. I slid in easily with a single thrust, since she was already drenched. “You need to learn your place.”

“Please, please, stop… I won’t tell anyone…” she moaned, arching her back as I began to fuck her, raping her pussy even as her hands didn’t seem to know whether or not to pull me close or push me away. I had, obviously, opted to go without protection for this occasion.

“I won’t tell anyone if you stop now…” she sobbed as I gripped her ass cheeks and pressed my lips onto hers. I found myself biting her lips hard through her tears and a moment later, coppery blood was on both of our lips.

“Ow, yellow,” she whispered.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t go any harder than there. There are other places you can abuse.”

And so there were. I gripped her tits hard, holding her down as she writhed around my cock, digging my fingers into her generous flesh, trying consciously to leave bruises. Her face contorted alternately in pain and pleasure as she squirmed and cried, whispering “No, no, no, no…” over and over again. I slapped her tits hard, one after another and then took her once more by the hair, maneuvering her head to my cock as I pulled out of her.

“Taste yourself, slut,” I grunted, forcing myself down her throat once more. She gagged hard on my cock, as if lubricating it before I returned it to her pussy.

Finally, as I raped her, I felt myself getting close. My body tightened and Karnika knew exactly what was about to happen.

“No, please, don’t cum in me, I’m not on the pill. Don’t get me pregnant!”

“You dumb whore. That’s all your good for,” I groaned as I choked her, shutting her up and looking into her ecstatically terrified eyes as I came inside of her, my spasming cock unleashing my seed into her tight depths. Her face crumbled as she sobbed, her cunt spasming around me, and she began to writhe. She was cumming.

“See? Sluts like you need to cum. You can be fucking grateful.”

“No, please, I don’t want it…” she whined as her body shuddered. I slid out of her and pressed my face between her legs, tasting my juices and hers as they dribbled out of her hot little hot, her clit throbbing. She yelped as I licked over her, and screamed as I slapped her pussy hard.

“Please, please, please, just leave me alone…” she sobbed, trying to curl up into a ball to protect her sensitive slit from my assault. Instead, I merely turned her over, threaded my belt out of my pants, and struck her ass hard.

She yowled pitifully, while her ass cheeks jiggled deliciously as I flogged her, pressing one hand into her back to steady her while my other hand worked, raining down stroke after stroke. Finally, when I determined she was broken (and when I was hard again!), I spread open her burning, welted ass cheeks and pressed into her from behind.

“Oh, god, not again…” she groaned, struggling weakly beneath me as I gripped her hard by the hair and pulled her back, forcing her to arch her back as I pounded her. We could see even other in the mirror and I divided her hair into two lengths, making impromptu pony tails as I rode her, driving my cock into her raped cunt as hard as I could.

“No, please…” she sobbed as I moaned, pressing down into her and unleashing my seed once more. “No, please… Just leave me alone.”

“Clean my cock,” I ordered. She looked at me in confusion from over her shoulder, so I slid out of her, grabbed her by the hair, and forced her face against my sloppy, sex-juice covered dick.

“Lick it clean. Say thank you.”

“No, I don’t want to…”

I reached my hand around her throat once more and she let out a silent scream. Finally, she leaned forward of her own accord and began to lick at my shaft, whimpering and crying softly as she did. She got me hard again and began to bob her face on my shaft, tears mixing with sweat and cum as she worked, trying desperately to get me off once more.

“Useless cunt,” I growled, pushing her back down and forcing myself into her again.

“No, it hurts now… Please… You already did it twice…”

Her pussy was absolutely filthy and sloppy by now, and I could glide in and out of her easily. Digging my fingers into her tits, I ripped into her for another few minutes as she wailed pathetically, her pussy growing tighter from swelling, before I finally finished in her once more.

I re-did my pants and regarded Karnika, curled up in the fetal position and sobbing.

“No one’s going to want this cunt anymore,” I grunted. “Once they find out what happened to you.”

“Please don’t tell anyone. Please. My life would be over. I won’t tell anyone what you did.”

“I know you won’t. And I’ll be back. I’m going to keep cumming in that pussy until there’s a white baby in that brown belly.”

She sobbed, shaking her head as I stole out of her room. I waited a few moments in the cold, took off the ski mask, and then returned. Karnika was still crying, though far softer, as I covered her with her robe and held her against me. She turned in my arms, pressing herself against me, and we kissed, slowly, deeply, for several minutes, like people groping towards one another in the dark.

~

I fell asleep holding her there and it was Karnika who woke me up in the morning. We were in her bed and I was naked as well. We’d had sex once more in the night—nice, normal, vanilla sex, where I ate her out and fucked her nice and slow.

“You have to get out of here,” she mouthed at me. I could hear the sounds of her parents making breakfast and she was already at her dresser, putting cover up on her bruises and welts.

I grabbed my clothes and was about to leave before she gestured to me to come back. I did and she threw her arms around me, kissing me deep.

“Same time tonight, okay? Harder, this time. There’s a toy store in town. Go buy a toy gun, okay? I think that’d be really hot…”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5ny49b/mf_raping_the_girl_next_door_rapeplay_raceplay