The Ripe Redhead (Part 1) [MF] [nc] [bd]

I’d very much like to get some feedback, as this is my first attempt at a story outside of patchy RP on forums. I’m hoping to get constructive criticism that I can use when writing the continuation of this story.

He was a wicked man. A cruel, sadistic monster. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had just arrived in a fresh town, having just made a hasty exit from the last town after his most recent escapade. He had just his van still, his would-be infamous van, of not for his pristine record. Poor girl, he thought, reminiscing their last moments together, before he planted her in the garden behind the cabin. She was such a beautiful creature, but the woman was spent, and he had to find a new plaything.

He pawned a few of the previous girl’s valuables at a seedy pawn shop, the kind that never asks nor answers questions, and used the money to buy some food. He never kept trophies, and never left a trail. His victims always disappeared into the ether, and always arrived in his domain on the other side, to live through hell and pay with their bodies for his pleasure.

At the supermarket, he spotted his next victim: a sweet little redhead, probably just out of high school and on her way to college. It was the right time of year, certainly. She walked past him in the confectionery aisle, her long curly hair bobbing up and down with each stride. Her face was dotted with adorable freckles and her lips were a fair shade of red that complimented her completion and hair. She wore only modest makeup, with no obvious eyeliner or blush, which added to her look of innocence.

He caught himself staring, and quickly returned to his shopping. He still maintained an awareness of her movements throughout the store, and hurried to checkout before she left. Once out of the store, he returned to his van around the corner and watched the carpark. Eventually he spotted her come through the doors. She headed down the tarmac and down the driveway. She wasn’t taking a car, instead going on foot. He started up the van and casually drove down the road in her direction. He pulled over at the end of the block and unfolded a map from the glove box as cover while he watched her in his sideview mirror.

As she approached, sauntering daintily down the footpath, his pulse quickened. He knew the safest way was always to grab them and run. He couldn’t risk being spotted by going the route of stalking her and waiting until dark. And besides, it was unlikely she would just happen to come out at night on her own. No, there was little chance of a more opportune moment coming along. And she was too succulent a piece to risk getting away.

He climbed into the back of the van, parting the curtain he had put up right behind the front seats, and pulled a grimy ski mask over his head. He waited at the back doors until he heard her footsteps right outside, then he leapt out and in one fluid motion, lunged at her, knocked her out with a sharp blow to the back of the neck, at the base of her skull, and scooped her now limp body up in his arms and climbed back into the van. Once inside, he quickly secured her in case she woke up early, then climbed back into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drive off.

Emma, the poor little redhead who had the misfortune to be within the man’s sight when he was on the hunt, had barely any time to react. She jumped when the van door burst open, and then recoiled in fear when the masked man rushed at her. And then darkness.

She began to stir in the darkness of the van. Pain, that was all she felt at first. Pain in her head, then she felt pain from the tight cuffs around her wrists. She tried to move her hands put couldn’t. Then she realised that she couldn’t see, even after blinking many times. If she were not still woozy from the blow earlier, she would have panicked. Instead, she just shifted in place.

She tried to focus, to get some sense of where she was, of what was happening. Her first thought was that she must be having a bad dream, but it felt too real to be just a nightmare. She continued to lie there, and as she slowly regained full consciousness, she came to realize that, yes, she was awake, and this was no dream.

Her memory had returned. She remembered the man lunge at her, and she remembered the sharp pain before the darkness, and she knew what must have happened. She could not move her hands because she was cuffed to the inside of the van. She could not see because he had tied a sack over her head. And the cloth that filled her mouth… That was easiest to figure out.

She didn’t even try to scream, having a rather demure nature. Instead, she just lay still and whimpered. Her captor heard this and shouted to her over the noise of the engine.
“Well hello sleepy head,” he said, in a completely normal, cheerful tone. “Glad to hear you’re back with us. You were out for quite a while. You missed the scenic drive; we’re almost there now.”
At first his demeanor confused her, but she quickly realised that he was either deliberately playing mind games, or he was truly mad, and she was not sure which would be worse. With only her thoughts and the rumbling of the engine to occupy her, she felt herself trembling with fear. She had no idea what he was going to do to her. Is this a ransom? Is he a psycho who’s going to rape and torture her? Does he even have a plan? She did not recognise his voice, and she could think of no one that held a grudge against her. The van went over a pothole and her head bounced and slammed back down into the hard, metal floor of the van. She started sobbing, and the man smiled at hearing her pained noises.

It was after dark when the van pulled up to his hideout. The girl felt the vehicle slow down and her heart raced, for she knew that something was about to happen. Her breathing become shallow and slow, as she strained to hear something in the darkness.

The hideout was a small log cabin buried deep in a thick forest. The masses of bramble and the lack of sunlight from the thick canopy made the place unattractive to trampers, hikers, and campers alike. And the only hunter on two legs was him.

The front door slammed; her breathing stopped. His footsteps could be heard coming around to the rear of the van; she began hyperventilating. The rear doors opened and the terrified Emma writhed and screamed, as best she could through the cloth wadded up in her mouth. He stood outside the van and watched her frenzied struggles until she exhausted herself and went still again. Then he climbed in.

She started to panic when she heard him move again, but she had tried herself out already, so all she could manage was to try scooting away from the direction of the noise, bit it was futile. The cuffs held her in place, and he was upon her immediately running his hands all over her body. When he snatched her off the street, she had been wearing a brightly-coloured summer dress adorned with a floral pattern. The dress had ridden up her legs from her kicking earlier, and he now ran his hand up her legs and rested on her hips, with only her Robin’s egg blue knickers between his hand and her flesh.

She recoiled under his touch and tried to get away, but it was fruitless. He had he where he wanted her and could do with her as he pleased and she was powerless to stop him. She wept and whimpered, at which he chuckled. He knelt there in the back of the grimy van with the terrified girl wriggling in his arms for what seemed to her like an eternity, until his knees grew sore.

He released the girl from his grasp and undid the padlock that fastened her cuffs to a U bolt in the floor of the van. Emma felt the tension on her arms from trying to pull away release and she tried to curl up into a ball, but the man dragged her by the cuffs across the van towards the door, where he hopped out, dragging the scared girl along with him. She grunted in pain and started crying again as her body hit the ground and he dragged her along the dirt to wherever he was taking her.

Her body soon struck something hard. It was the doorstep to the cabin. He dragged her up the step, through the door, and let her fall to the ground. Once free to move her arms, she curled up into the fetal position and sobbed. Now that he had touched her, she knew with certainty what was in store. But even little Emma had no idea just how far this man would go.

The man soon returned to have some more serious fun. He dragged Emma across the wood floor and deposited her on the hearth rug, grazing her ankles along the way. She didn’t even struggle this time. She lay still awaiting her fate. Embers were smouldering in the wood fire, warming them both. He opened the wood stove and tossed another log onto the coals. Then, he turned his attention to his victim.

He knelt down on the soft rug and placed his hands on the girl’s breasts. She had been too tired to struggle after being literally dragged around, but his touch disgusted and terrified her so that she began to breath faster and reflexively try to wriggle out of his hands, which only aroused him more than her whimpering. She tried to push him away with her cuffed hands, but he pulled her arms up with no effort and fastened the chain of the hand cuffs to a clip that was bolted to the hearthstone, that he had put there for just this purpose.

He slowly ran his hands down her body, along her waist, down her legs, past the hem of her dress, and back up her legs, now under her dress, all the way up to her waist, where he slipped his fingers under the waistband of her girly, frilled knickers, and pulled them down, all the way down her legs and whipped them off over her feet.

As soon as he started pulling, panic rose in her heart, for she always knew what was coming, but now the moment was upon her, she realised how unprepared she was for the reality of what he was to do to her. Then she heard the sound of a zipper, and her last of shred of hope that he would at least not not force himself inside her was dashed. She froze in fear, too tired and terrified to hyperventilate or try crawling away.

The next thing she felt was him forcefully spreading her legs and then she felt what she had feared the most since she awoke in the darkness of the van: his erect cock thrust into her ripe pussy. He let out an animal groan of pleasure and paused for a moment, fully hilted inside her. It felt like an eternity of violation to Emma, and it had barely even begun. He began to move in her, slowly at first, then gradually rocking faster. She started sobbing again, and the sound made his already hard cock pulsate in arousal.

He untied the drawstring on the sack over her head and yanked it off over her head in one fluid motion. Emma had her shut tightly under the bag, but she opened them in surprise when it was removed, and she now stated her attacker, her abductor, her rapist right in the eyes, as he continued to violate her young body. Her face was streaked with tears and her makeup had run down her cheeks; her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and her lipstick had smeared on the gag.

He placed a hand on her cheek and she turned to escape his grasp. He responded with anger, grabbing her face by the jar and forcing her to face him. She shut her eyes and tried to think of home. Of her lover Chris and how she hoped to see him again after this was all over. But she was brought back to the cruel present by a tightening sensation around her throat.

Her eyes shot open to see the man’s arm leading right below her chin. This was it; this was how she died. He was strangling her as he would come inside her. His thrusting was much faster now, and he was staring down at her with a wicked grin.

Her eyes widened as the world went blurry and began to fade. She struggled to breath through the tiny opening his grip left. But it wasn’t enough. Her eyes rolled back in her head and blackness filled her vision.

The man revelled in the terror he saw in her face as he choked her, and just as she started to black out, he could hold back no longer. With a single, sharp thrust, he slid all the way inside and shot his seed into her. He twitched a few times, and then relaxed, releasing his grip and collapsing on top of her.

The sudden weight on top of her jolted Emma back to life. She gasped for air as best she could through the gag and through her nose, now stuffed up from sobbing. She soon felt the man’s come inside of her, and tried to close her legs in disgust, but his body was still in the way. She saw his head resting on her shoulder and turned away, squinting her eyes shut and whimpering.

She eventually realised that he had fallen asleep, on top of her, weighing her down. She looked up at her restraints and the brief rush of hope that had run through her died. There was no way she could wriggle out of these: the cuffs fit around her slender wrists almost perfectly, and they dug in to her skin and has caused bruising from her earlier struggles. She went limp with despair and tears streamed down her cheeks once again. He had let her see his face. He had no intention of letting her go when he was done with her. If he was even ever going to be done with her.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6m58gw/the_ripe_redhead_part_1_mf_nc_bd

One comment on “The Ripe Redhead (Part 1) [MF] [nc] [bd]

  1. Fix the spelling errors first.

    Is there a POINT to the story? Or is this just a fantasy NC scene you had in your head?

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