I met a woman on Fetlife who posted about her rape fantasies. We made arrangements to meet up for a CNC scene. She knew that I was “very inexperienced” however I didn’t tell her that it was my first time until afterwards. She later wrote about her experiences with our encounter and posted it to FetLife and gave me permission to cross post it here (she doesn’t use Reddit). I changed the username to my Reddit handle.
Feel free to ask questions or PM me.
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Athanaricari private messaged my through FetLife, clearly having read my writings, kinks and profile(!!!) in advance. Wow, is that ever sexy or what? Someone who reads your profile…
We exchanged long messages over the course of 2 weeks, hammering out the skeleton of a CNC role-play. We had several overlapping kinks. One of my turn-ons is not knowing what will happen, the element of surprise. Athanaricari proposed that CNC play would occur during martial arts training, a massage, or the increasing stakes of a board game gone wrong. I didn’t know which. We also had an overlapping sleep CNC kink and bondage as well. He rented a small AirBnB house between our towns.
The backstory for our meet-up was that I was travelling through the town on a road trip and he, an online friend who I had met through gaming and computer chats, kindly offered to host me. I was an inhibited, prudish girl who claimed to lack sexual desire. I insisted that we sleep in separate rooms and that the visit was to be purely platonic. The rest of this narration is a telling of my CNC role-play as I experienced it.
I went for a beautiful road bike ride in Washington State for 3 hours that morning, but was a little distracted the whole time by thoughts of my online, soon to become real-life, friend.
Later that afternoon, I pulled my car up to the address he had given me: a picturesque little house. I was excited to meet him in person for the first time, and even though we had video chatted, in person he looked so different! He was tall, much bigger than me, and quite attractive. He confidently came out for a hug as if we were old friends once I had stepped out of my car. A passerby might have thought that we were boyfriend and girlfriend, not online acquaintances who were meeting for the first time.
Once he had showed me around the house and offered me a snack (what a gentleman!) I insisted that I needed a shower. I was still wearing my road bike clothes and wanted to get cleaned up.
In the shower, I considered: should I lock the door? He knows I’m in here, there’s only the two of us… I left the door unlocked. I felt a little vulnerable, nervous and exposed while I showered, however.
I knew what he found attractive in terms of clothing- a combination of high-cut jean shorts with a white blouse. I donned those very articles of clothing feeling so daring. Not intending to tease, just in a playful mood.
While I was changing, he asked me, through the bathroom door: “you mentioned that you could use a massage…”
Oh could I !? “Yes”, I agreed enthusiastically, stepping out, “in fact, the doctor said the my right shoulder tendonitis should be massaged…” When he saw me, his eyes lit up in a way that made me feel self-conscious and I’m not sure how well he was paying attention to what I was saying.
“Here”, he said “lie down here and I’ll give you a massage.”
“Thank you” I agreed. It never occurred to me to insist that I sit in a kitchen chair instead while he massage my shoulder. I felt so self-conscious, I wanted any excuse to not be standing awkwardly in front of him, being undressed by his eyes. I entered his bedroom (my room was across the hall), and he coaxed me into position, lying flat on my front across the foot of his bed. He climbed up beside me, but only his hands touched my neck and shoulders, there was no other physical contact, so I gradually relaxed into bliss.
He focused on the shoulder causing me pain: “there’s a technique that I think will help with this… he grabbed something from his bag, pulled my right wrist up behind my back and I felt the click of cold metal. Was that a handcuff?! Before I had the chance to start to fight, he had clipped my other wrist in. “What are you doing?!” I protested, reasoned in disbelief, but his confident smile never changed. “Now it’s time for me to have a little fun” he announced happily.
I struggled and writhed, he flipped me unto my back and began pulling straps and other scary-looking items out of his bag. With my arms handcuffed behind me, he had easy access to feel my sensitive breasts through my blouse. He unbuttoned it and groped me some more through my bra. I twisted my body around to hide my delicate, erogenous mammaries and he explored my extremely revealing shorts. They were tight, however and I thought that he might have trouble removing them. Perhaps I’d get a chance to run away. Up from his bag came a pair of medical scissors. He slid them underneath the fabric at my ass cheek, just to the side where the curve of my round derrière stretched the tight shorts. I reduced my struggle somewhat at this point, both from fear of getting cut and morbid fascination with this surprising development. The scissors couldn’t cut through the thick jean material, A-ha! I wriggled free and made a beeline for the door. Well, in my mind I did, I don’t think that my body ever truly left his bed completely. He grabbed me around the waist, swung me back to where he wanted me and shut the bedroom door. He then finished the job the scissors had failed to do, he unbuttoned my shorts, grabbed the waistband, and pulled them down, sliding them off easily.
Stupid stretchy shorts! I hadn’t bothered to wear panties underneath, but panties wouldn’t have helped anyway, they would have slid right off with the tight shorts.
I was so ineffectual fending him off with my hands cuffed behind me that he teased me: “I thought that someone who didn’t want it would put up a better fight than this.” I renewed my struggle, but the cuffs hurt so much, especially with my shoulder issue. At my request, he replaced the metal cuffs with velcro wrist straps. This may sound like he did me a favour, but once he had convinced to not struggle while he replaced the cuffs, he took the opportunity to slide my blouse and bra off my arms before securing my arms. Still behind my back, still impossible to remove.
The only difference between my new situation and the previous one, is that now I’m completely naked, shut inside his bedroom, on his bed, and he still has that hungry look in his eyes.
Then began a wrestling match in which I was the clear loser. I tried to dodge, get to the door, but he pushed me back down unto his bed. It would have taken me precious seconds to fiddle with the doorknob with my hands behind my back anyway. He straddled my writhing, naked hips and thighs, I tried to maneuver myself sideways because face-up, my breasts were at the mercy of his wandering hands, but face-down I would be even worse off, and more helpless with my hands tied above and behind me. On a good day, he could have out-wrestled me, he had 40 or 50lbs on me, so with my arms bound behind me… forget it, there was no contest. Again, he commented on how little I was doing to stop him, I must be enjoying it.
I focused my energy on convincing him to change his mind, playing the mercy card. He pressed his legs between mine and forced my legs apart while lying on top of me, I was still face up. He reached a hand down to my soft, exposed labia and stroked my pussy experimentally. “You’re a little too wet to not be enjoying this” he concluded, nullifying all my psychological tactics to convince him to let me go. I went back to trying to free myself, or at least to protect my precious nether regions from invasion.
I squirmed and twisted, maybe he gave me a little room to do so, as I then found myself in a worse position than before: face-down. The position I had trying to avoid as it left me with a combination of being most helpless AND exposed my vulnerable bits. I heard his trousers rustle as then came off. Uh-oh, the situation was getting even more serious. I could feel the hard warmth of an erection press against my backside. I squealed, wriggled, protested, and he flipped me unto my back. Ignoring further pleading from me, he kept his lean, strong frame firmly wedged between my legs, spreading me out for his enjoyment. He held my legs up and apart while he targeted my moist, but very tight and unpracticed pussy with his cock. I continued to plead, he continued to explore my bound and helpless body with his manhood. The energetic wrestling, his superior strength and size were getting to me. I was already wet before he got my clothes off, but now I was getting increasingly aroused. In fact, I felt the tingle of an approaching orgasm.
Before I went over the edge, (he was not as close to orgasm as I was, it seemed) he flipped me over onto my stomach and rammed his cock into my pussy from behind. He also gave my little struggling behind a few smart smacks as he continued to ‘have his little fun’. He gripped my hair, arching my back and pulling me into him. Perhaps he was trying to get me to fight back more, I was getting tired and was somewhat resigned to my fate, seeing that I was unable to fight him off. He flipped me back unto my back and within 2 or 3 short thrusts, I experienced an extremely intense orgasm. My eyes closed, my resigned body relaxing and accepting the endorphins and pleasure following a long-fought battle, He wasn’t done, though. He manhandled me into various positions, my ankles up to my ears, one leg up and the other down as I lay on my back. He had me bent over, on my knees at the edge of the bed with a firm grip on my hair… he was insatiable, and I climaxed several more times, to be honest.
It’s hard to describe what happened in detail once my orgasms began, things become a bit of a blur. Once he was done with me, spent and exhausted, he released me of my bondage and I suppose the logical thing to do would have been to run away, call the police or something. But I didn’t know a soul in this city, I didn’t have a place to go and it was getting late. After all, he had gotten what he wanted. Surely that was it?
I was starved after all the exertion and threw on a pair on pyjama pants and T-shirt. I began to make dinner wearing less attention-drawing clothing. At some point, he came out to the kitchen (while I didn’t have the knife in my hand) and suddenly grabbed me from behind. He wrapped his arm around my waist and hefted me up. I squealed and struggled, kicking my legs out in the air in front of me as he carried me back into his bedroom for round 2. I tried to grab the doorframe, which annoyed him (I knew because it earned me a spanking.) For the most part, he didn’t punish me for struggling, I guess he enjoyed the wrestling.
I began to accept it, he would grab me and drag me into the bedroom when he felt in the mood. I would try to stop him and get away, sometimes more than others… I was never successful either way. At least I had a place to stay for the night. So it worked out, for the most part.
No safe words were used or necessary in this role-play. I had a lot of fun.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/cq69su/mf_my_first_time_having_sex_was_a_cnc_roleplay
What is CNC?