Warnings: non-con/dub-con/violence abuse
*The Arrangement*
It was late. They had not expected this one to work out, just as the many times before plans had fallen through. Slender fingers clicked the browser closed and then reached around a hot mug to take a comforting sip of coffee. The plan was in motion. Their stomach turned nervously, and a sinister grin toyed between their lips. After tonight, nothing would be the same.
…
Nervous energy is a difficult feeling to describe. It makes men and women alike refrain from expressions of feelings and desire. But, what about the nervous energy that accompanies someone who is about to fulfill one of their greater desires? One he had not conceived possible prior to recent events–a post on the internet leading to very serious and real dangerous activities.
*An apartment late at night. A safe neighborhood where no one would be suspecting. An address. A phone number. A safe word.*
He could back out. There had been no exchange of money. They would lose only the time spent on a few weeks of careful planning. They had never talked on the phone. He had a general physical description. Part of the fantasy was keeping it as anonymous as possible. How would he know he was actually talking to the woman who wanted to be raped? It was a strange puzzle they contemplated over together, until deciding she would plan to wear a specific tee shirt that night—a black short sleeve with a NASA logo in white on the front.
A few hours before going out he was combing his hair in front of the mirror, trying to get it to lay just right. It occurred to him that he didn’t need to look attractive—there was no chance of rejection. But, suppose as soon as he broke down the door, she decided she did *not* want to be fucked by this man, and shouted the safe word slamming the door in his face.
That was unlikely. She had been very convincing that she didn’t want a photo, and part of the fantasy was the potential of not being attracted to her visitor or, finding herself *very* attracted to him.
The buzz of his phone against the bathroom sink brought him out of his ponderings. It was a message from their private chat. o
“My boyfriend came over earlier today. He is leaving at 10. Please adjust plans accordingly. Sorry.”
He felt his stomach twinge. There had been no previous mention of a boyfriend. Of course, he had no reason to be jealous. However, it was a potential complication. Nervous energy pulsed through him. He could feel the beating of his heart as if it were in his neck, his stomach, even pounding in his feet.
There would be no change of plans. He had already planned on waiting until just after one in the morning. The thought of her sitting on her couch, watching the clock and the door, getting sleepy and wondering if she should call it a night made his back hot and chest ache in pleasured pain. But could she sleep? How late would she stay up? Would her heart be pounding just as his in the anticipation?
…
He had done the laundry for her and picked up around her apartment. He was so sweet to her, which she noted especially that evening. They had cuddled most of the afternoon. Wine was spilled, clothes were changed—well, clothes were removed—and an hour later new clothes were put on. He insisted on doing the laundry for her. More accurately, she had expressed the desire to clean up her messy clothes, and he didn’t hesitate to stain treat and run her outfit down to the laundry and take care of it for her. Normally Sunday nights were her “me nights.” He understood, but he had been excited to come over and spend the day with her, bringing surprise flowers. He seemed to have put their most recent disagreement behind them. Her stomach twinged with regret for a moment at the thought, and of the things he could never know.
…
He was carrying a toolbox. It seemed to be the least suspicious way to bring supplies to break into a stranger’s apartment. It was an apartment complex in a somewhat suburban area. By the distinct lack of Halloween decorations and the few kitschy “welcome harvest,” and “happy fall” wreaths on doors, he guessed the demographic, assuming most of the neighbors would be asleep. The hall he entered after exiting the elevator was distinct. No door decorations or mats. No posters on the bulletin boards about upcoming events. He suspected the lack of multiple neighbors on her floor had given her more confidence to pull off their dalliance.
Still, he planned on not making too much noise at first. He had decided to knock, then demand entry on her rejection.
The firm knocks on the wood echoed down the hallway. The only thing he could hear was the sound of a television. Another knock. This time, the tv was turned down, and he heard shuffling noises.
“Yes? Who is it?” A delicate but strong feminine voice answered on the other side.
“Oh, yes, thank you for coming to the door. I’m sorry to bother so late at night but it seems my apartment lost power and I was wondering if I was the only one…”
“I’m sorry…do I know you?” She responded back, a bit more hesitant.
“I’m afraid not, I just moved in down the hall. We haven’t officially met. Look I…it’s unfortunate because my phone isn’t charged, and I clearly need to call someone about my power. I hate to be a bother; do you have a phone I can use?” To his surprise she opened the door, with the chain latch still attached. She peered through with her deep brown eyes, wavy brown-red hair falling down over her shoulders onto her tee shirt. It was the exact one she had described.
“It’s hard to hear you through the door,” she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry too…I think you could try downstairs, believe it or not there’s an old payphone down there and you can try the landlord. I have power. I don’t understand why it would be just you…”
“If I could just use your phone for a moment, I’ll come inside so you won’t know I’ll just run off with it. Besides, we are neighbors so it wouldn’t be very neighborly of me to do so…” He tried to sound nice, charming even.
“I really don’t think so, you understand of course, we’ve never met before. Good luck though.” As she started to close the gap provided by the chain, he took the chance to slip the hammer between the gap near the lock.
“I really *do* think you want to let me in.” He saw her eyes go wide…and was that a smile? No…it was a quiver of fear at the edge of her lip.
“What the hell, get a—” He used the leverage of the handle and force to easily bust the lock off her door and swing it open, pushing her back as he plowed into the room. She stumbled but regained herself and darted across the room toward where her cell phone was laying on a coffee table.
“Oh no, don’t try that.” He was strong, and fast. He was prepared and she was scared. He caught her roughly by the waist bringing her flush back against him as she let out a growl of frustration. Her foot came down hard on his, but her balance not being her own caused it to only land thumping against the side of his foot and ankle– only a slight annoyance.
“Is that the best you can do?” He took her by the arms, tightly pulled back behind her back and walked her toward the kitchen. She let her legs go slack so she was dead weight against him, which would have worked in her favor if he weren’t nearly three times her size. He easily dragged her across the room. She let out a trembling but loud cry. Tossing her down on the kitchen floor, he reached for one of the kitchen knives.
“Scream again bitch and I’ll leave a scar for every time.” His eyes ran over her body, as she trembled and heaved on the floor. *How could such a pretty girl have such dark fantasies?* He grinned. She was average height. Thin and lanky arms and legs, but ample breasts and ass. He couldn’t wait, he was already getting ahead of himself, imagining just what he would do to her body.
She was beginning to freeze. He reached down and pulled her up by a fistful of the grey shirt. “Space fan?” He teased, bringing the blunt edge of the knife across her arm. “See, I won’t kill you, that’s not very fun. But I can make your resistance less than enjoyable. So, push and shove all you want. But if you scream, I leave a mark.” He turned the blade quickly and left a small gash on her left arm. Just enough for the blood to trickle to the surface. Her face became white. Her voice shook as if she were about to speak. He held her there, for a moment. If she needed to collect her thoughts to be able to back out, the least he could do was to give her a moment or two.
“Please.” She whimpered. Just the gloss of potential tears gleamed in her eyes. *Oh, she is good*, he thought. His nervous energy had turned into a passionate need that could no longer be held back. He picked her up this time, tossing her over his shoulder. She seemed to regain her fight as she began to thrash and pound on his back. She didn’t lift her voice—he must have made his point—but she vocalized all sorts of profanities and complaints about their new neighborly relationship. His deep sultry laughter filled the hallway. She was cute, and light in his arms. His hand was able to hold on tightly to her ass as he carried her around until he found a bedroom.
Reasoning was her next tactic. He threw her onto the bed and turned and locked the door. The click sent a wave of dread over one of the bodies in the room. Something was not right. She was being quiet.
“You—you—can’t think I won’t report this, I know where you live and what you look like…and—and my boyfriend is firefighter.” She crawled herself backward on the bed, farther from where he was by the door.
“You still think I’m your neighbor?” He chuckled again and stepped one foot forward as his hands moved down to remove his belt. He slid it out and with a crack snapped it to his side. She nearly bounded off the bed. Bargaining was next.
“Look look…okay okay… I can’t fight you. But I can pay you. I have cash. If you walk out to the hallway, I’ll bring it to you. Please I’ve done nothing to you… I don’t even know you!”
The belt snapped again. “I don’t want your money. I came for you body. Now I’m going to take it. I get what I want.” He dashed across the room, his tall frame making his steps much quicker that hers.
“No!” She cried out just before he slapped her across the face with the belt. Her own arm had reached up to shield herself, the belt hitting both the side of her face and her arm. He hit her again. “Please…!”
“Oh, come on…really beg! If you think you stand a chance to keep me from taking every last inch of you then beg for it bitch.” Bargaining turned to bravery. She clenched her jaw and held her chin up, silent yet trembling. The light in the room was on, and it was easy to see the red welt already swelling on her face and arm. He grabbed her by the wrist turning her face away from him and shoving her onto the bed. He tugged at it and twisted until he was able to rip her grey cotton shirt from top to bottom and roughly unclasp her bra.
“Mm..does such a poor helpless little girl always wear cute bright pink bras? How tough you seemed…” He pulled the rest of her bra and shirt away, then pulled her arms tightly behind her again, slipping his belt around her wrists.
“Not that I can’t hold you down, dearie, but I have other things I plan on doing with my hands.” He growled into her ear,” While she had gone silent, she had not given up her physical fight. She would relax as if he might relax his hold on her too, then kick backwards at him and thrash. Each time he just let out another deep chuckle, until he had her bound with his belt.
He smacked her still clothed ass hard. “Stop it! Hold still.” She relented for a moment. He flipped her around to expose her full breasts. They were perfectly round with small delicate nipples. He didn’t wait to have his hands all over them, pulling and pinching at her nipples and grabbing and squeezing them tight.
“Fuck, you’re perfect…” She kept squirming, as if to pull away from his touch. He groped her harder, put one hand around her throat and squeezed slightly. “No, you’re mine. Don’t try to fight it anymore my dear.” She spat at him.
“Don’t fucking call me your dear, you coward.” She croaked out, gasping in exhaustion.
“Hmm? What dear? Did I strike a nerve? Oh, my love, my darling. My sweet little thing. I *love* your body. It turns me on so fucking much…” He reached down and pulled off her pants, all the while her hips twisting and bucking. She let out a grunt and as he turned to look at her he felt warm spit spray across his face. His hand flew across her breasts this time. “Oh, that’s supposed to scare me?” He slapped her breasts again.
By the time her pants and panties were on the floor he could hardly hold himself back. She was back to bargaining, this time accepting her fate. “Please…please… okay… okay just be gentle, be gentle please… no..no….”
“Isn’t this when the guy says, ‘I bet you’re wet for me, aren’t you little slut?’ You know what I know? I know you could hate me. You could be disgusted by me. I could haunt you for the rest of your life. You might rather die than have me violate you right now. But you’ll still be wet. Even if this is torture. Women’s bodies were made to be taken. Your body was meant to be taken. It doesn’t matter if you want it. Your body submits—to me.” He had placed his cock just at her entrance as he was speaking, his other hand moving up to curl around her throat. Without another word he thrust as deep as he could inside her, letting out a long and sensual groan.
“Ah…fuck.” She whimpered and cried out. “Mm…good.” He tightened his grip around her began to thrust, several long slow ones at first before he began a steady, deep, penetrating rhythm. “I’m gonna put my hand over your mouth bitch—so you better decide if you have any last words.” Her face shook, she seemed confused. She gasped and called out. “Stop…! Please…” He muzzled her with the hand that had been around her throat. She was tight, and while she’d been wet—it wasn’t the dripping hot mess he had expected with all their anticipation and build up. It made it all the sexier for him though as he tore into her again and again. He kept a firm grip over her mouth and kept staring deeply into her eyes. She was crying now, tears slipping down each side of her face.
“Oh baby, don’t cry. It will be over soon.” He teased, thrusting and holding. Pulling back and thrusting deep again. He was nearly there. He had hoped to hold out longer, but he needed to cum inside her. He released her mouth for a second. “I’m going to cum soon. I’m going to cum inside you.”
She said nothing—she continued to cry and whimper. She was sobbing now, tears flowing and snot dripping from her nose. She shook her head and whispered “No please, I’m not on…” He clamped his hand back over her mouth and she put in one last grand effort to shake and squirm.
“Oh, you poor thing,” he shuddered watching her cry and squirm for him. He moved his other hand to her nose, pinching it tight and completely cutting off her air supply. Watching her panic was enough to send him over the edge, as he came in her while she was thrashing in need of air.
He let go of her face, regained his balance and turned her around, pulling her by the hair. “I’ve half a mind to leave you like this for your boyfriend to find you.” She was quietly sobbing now, laying limp against the bed. “Would you like that? A little souvenir? Or maybe you’ll squirm out of them eventually and be able to hide it all before he gets back…” He stepped back, chuckling.
He dressed quickly, washed his hands in the bathroom and grabbed the toolbox before he headed out the front door. He hands were shaking as his hit the buttons to the elevator. In the safety of his car, he fumbled for his phone. He deleted every message, every account he’d used to connect with her.
…
Hours later, slender, trembling fingers reached for another warm cup and looked around the disheveled apartment.
“My, what a mess you made.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jf883k/the_arrangement_mf_dubcon_noncon_cnc