It had been a fantasy for years, gnawing at her, tearing through her dreams again and again. She couldn’t help herself some days, masturbating furiously as she read rape stories on reddit. Tales again and again about women rape baiting, getting what they secretly wanted, needed. It touched her deeply, in a dark part of herself she told no one about. A dark part of herself created by her first boyfriend who had often taken liberties with her. She hated that she felt this way sometimes, but it was there, and nothing made her wetter than those thoughts. Every sexual experience compared to her fantasies were just vanilla and disappointing. Even BDSM was too structured for her taste, she longed for what was in those stories.
It had built up in her during the crisis, contained mostly to her apartment for months. Boredom led to much frustration, as she burned through story after story, experience after experience. When the order was listed, when bars were opened once again, she finally decided to try. The fantasy was no longer enough. She needed to taste and feel the violations she craved so much.
So, she found herself dressing in a low cut dress, showing off her ample cleavage. She briefly thought about pairing a thong with it, but decided against it. Just a red dress, high heels, and a clutch tonight. If her nipples got hard in the thin fabric, she wanted them to see. If they groped her ass or slid a hand up her dress, she wanted them to know. She touched herself, already wet with excitement, smelling her wetness, dabbing it with her finger behind each ear. She felt dirtier than she had in forever, but her heart was pumping, ready.
She went to the seediest bar she knew, looking very out of place in her red dress. A bleeding fish in a room full of sharks. Most watched her but did nothing at first. When she asked for some whiskey from the bartender, he asked if she really wanted to be here. She ignored him, drinking the shot and getting another. A few men tried to hit on her, but they weren’t the kind of trouble she was looking for. She flirted with a few more, even dancing with a couple in the corner as some others played pool, watching. She slurred her words purposefully, playing the part of victim, ignoring their gropes mostly, or playing swatting their hands. It was wild, but it was clear the men were getting frustrated and bored being teased.
She pleaded that she had to use the bathroom, but she’d be back soon, heading into it, blowing them a kiss. She smiled in the mirror, almost trembling, as she fixed her makeup. She heard the door open, a bit surprised but not really that one of the guys who had been playing pool had been watching. She told him he shouldn’t be in here, but he just kept walking towards her. Him not talking made her nervous, as she backed up a bit, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her close.
“I know a fucking whore when I see one,” he said, grabbing her hair and shoving her against the sink. She screamed once and he just slammed her head down. Everything spun, white porcelain out of focus, as flecks of red dripped onto it. He pressed her against it, tore her dress, and just shoved in her. She grunted, despite it all, letting loose a moan. Then he let into her, ramming her, fucking her like the whore he had called her. He wasn’t gentle, pawing and clawing as he fucked her. Every time she got to loud he’d slam her head down again, until she could barely focus on anything. He came deep in her, pulling out, wiping himself on her dress. She slid down to the floor, limp, her nose hurting, tasting copper in her mouth.
After he left, another came in, standing over her. He winced at the blood, then knelt down beside her. It was one of the men she’d danced with. She asked him to help weakly. He responded by pulling down her dress, exposing her breasts, he played with them, then spread her and fucked her there on the bathroom floor. She cried weakly, just wanting it over, to stop. It wasn’t fun, it was pain, she couldn’t think straight and when she shoved at his face he bit her finger and slapped her. Then he too shuddered deep and left her there.
The third was the worst. It was the other man who had groped and danced with her. He came in and called her a fucking tease, kicking her in her side. Then he pulled out his cock, mounting her as well. His gut pressed into her stomach, as he choked her, dashing her head on the floor. His grip tightened, thrusting violently, jabbing his cock in her. She shuddered, black closing in on all sides, just a pinpoint of light, his hateful face, as she came, about to drift into oblivion. He laughed as she did, spitting on her face, smearing it and the blood all over it, then fucking her hard until he came. He got up and kicked her one last time, her head snapping from the impact, eyes glassy and unfocused.
No one else fucked her, but one peed on her at some point, and a few came in the women’s room, stroking, dripping cum on her face or tits. Eventually, no more came in the room and she slowly got up, white puddled between her legs. She didn’t even try to clean up, stumbling. She couldn’t find one of her heels, so she left the other there, walking barefoot. No one expressed for concern as she left, limping, every step painful. She got in her car, driving home, heading straight to the bathroom. She looked at herself, a busted lip, a black eye, screaming as she broke the mirror. Then she took a shower, crying softly the entire time. Exhausted, she crawled in bed, knowing she’d have to go the clinic soon to be tested. She sighed, naked in bed, bringing up reddit on her phone, touching her bruised sex, and started reading the rape stories, hating herself as she came in the darkness, alone.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/gff8rl/more_than_she_bargained_on_mf_nc_rapebaiting