I pulled my car to the end of the gravel road and shut off the ignition. I clipped my keys to my belt and stepped out of the car, slowly walking around the back towards the passenger’s side. I opened the door and took the arm of my then-girlfriend.
I couldn’t tell if she was screaming, crying, or pleading for her life, as I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her into the darkness of the woods.
“The duct tape held stronger than I thought it would,” I thought to myself. I was glad I’d used the little bit I had left over to tape her mouth shut. We were pretty secluded, but you never can know for sure.
We walked maybe 200 yards. To her it must have felt like miles. It was just above freezing and she was dressed for a night at the club. Her black dress was held up by thin black straps and barely covered her ass.
I pulled my knife from my pocket and cut a strap, nearly exposing her to both myself and the late autumn chill.
“Little fucking slut. That’s what you get for wearing heels,” I whisper-growled at her as I dragged her to where we’d finish this. A small clearing of trees up ahead seemed to glow in the moonlight as we approached.
We reached our destination and I shoved her to the cold grass. She didn’t dare run. She knew what would happen if she would. I reached down and ripped the duct tape from her face quickly. She started the faintest whisper of protest. I showed her my knife.
Her eyes widened and she rubbed them, adjusting to the bright moonlight that evening. Black mascara ran down her face and her pink lipstick was smeared. She realized where we were.
Surrounding us were some older tombstones. I’d brought her to a nearby cemetery that happened to be kind of well hidden. I’d brought previous dates here in the past, but Heather had specifically asked for me to “kidnap her and fuck her like a whore in the cemetery.”
She smiled at me.
“Green,” she whispered. It was code. Game on.
I unzipped my jeans and she immediately jumped to her knees and took me in her mouth. The sudden shift in power dynamic was a bit jarring, so I slowed her pace by slowly stroking the knife along her cheek as she tried to swallow my cock.
It was time to indulge a fantasy of my own. Heather had the hugest, most spectacular ass that I’ve ever seen. Had Instagram had been a thing in 2003, I’m sure she’d be getting flown to Dubai and not living out rape fantasies with me.
Still on her knees, I dragged her by the hair to a nearby tombstone and reminded her to keep quiet. Or else. I dragged the knife lightly across her throat before positioning her over the gravestone and burying my face in her pussy from behind.
She came quickly and then not long again after I began to finger her and tease her asshole. I wanted to go for a third, but as I began to lick her again, she meekly whispered, “Red.”
Red meant stop immediately. Something was up. I stopped and backed away. Heather said that she felt uncomfortable, that it happened out of nowhere, and asked if we could go back to my place.
That’s pretty much the end of the story. Later that night she told me that she was into things and then something just screamed stop. She thought it might be the knife. Or maybe old Catholic guilt about desecration. She said we were cool and that we could talk the next day. I woke up and she was gone.
I never saw or spoke to her again. She ducked my calls and blocked me on AIM. I asked mutual friends what had happened and she was dating someone new days later. I never got the whole story.
Anyway, the reason I’m starting the smutposting here is that I’ve always regretted how this story ended. I wish that Heather wouldn’t have gotten freaked out.
I told a PG version of this story to a friend who I used to sleep with and she mentioned that we never got to do things like that – bragging that she’d like that sort of thing.
We’ve both floated the ideas of Fs with Bs before and we know that we’re very good at exchanging orgasms.
She floated that idea earlier today and things didn’t end up working out for whatever reason. She’s a HUGE fan of when studios remake/recast movies, so I thought it’d be cool to recast this fantasy with her.
So after I half-drunkenly proofread this, I’m going to send her the link and call her out. Because I’m a dick like that. And I can just play it off like I was drunk if it makes things too awkward.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/dw5ejq/in_the_cemetery_at_knifetpoint_cnc