He felt the sting of his unkempt nails creeping across the desperate head of the purple pariah that was his cock. He turned over in the unforgiving covers of his bed devoid of sympathy, looking up to the ceiling in exasperation. It had been a full seven day cycle since his last encounter with the blissful touch of his woman, and internal tensions were running at an all-time high. Each morning he awoke, hopeful and eager for a chance to claw for satisfaction, yet each night he slipped into slumber unfulfilled and lifeless, a hollow shell of the blossoming incubus he had once been. In other words, he needed his cock sucked.
At every turn, his fleeting woman had evaded him, obstructing his sexual conquest with some manner of excuse. It was either work, or her family, or some alternate justification that did little to put his bellowing member at rest. He loved her, yes, and he cherished her occupations with the utmost loyalty, but this had gone on for too long. It was time he put an end to her divisive games of intimate cat and mouse. The obvious way out of the conundrum was to revert back to the masturbatory ways of his past, but that served to do little more than make his shaft tickle. And the time for tingles was long past. Now, he needed to enact his fiery vengeance with all of the might and fury he had stored in the caches of his scrotum over the past few days. The time for reasoning was over. There would be no bargaining. His woman had neglected her duties, and now she would suffer the consequences in the passionate reaches of his suffocating embrace.
Making his way to her house posed little difficulty. In a different time, he would have found the prospect of sneaking his father’s truck out at three in the morning to be an ethical dilemma. Now however, the witching hour was upon him, and he had untapped coffers of witchcraft to be opened. Whether she liked it or not, this was happening.
Paying no mind to her family’s presence, he burst through the front door that was, as always, left unlocked for the household pets to navigate in and out. He spared one momentary glance at her sister as she sat at the kitchen table, toiling away at her leftover paperwork as usual. Their parents weren’t home. And even if they were, there’d be no saving her from what he had in store.
He stopped in front of her room door. Pressing his ear to the cold surface, he could hear the gentle waves of her nocturnal anthem seeping over to him. Taking one final moment to ensure his unholy utility belt of chains, cuffs, and hooks was secure, he slowly opened the door.
There she was, a mortal instrument of his desire curled up in tranquil rest, unaware of the horrors soon to befall her. He slunk over to her, careful not to disturb the engulfing silence, but still readying his spirit to unleash a Pandora’s Box of torture on the sleek figure in front of him. She was coiled up like a well-oiled spring, a smooth and inviting sheet of pristine white skin dotted with bits of fleshy perfection. A picturesque landscape of rolling valleys and falling hills, a whole topography of tender tits and poetic pussy completely unbeknownst of its immediate decimation at the force of his throbbing cock. It was finally time. His impatient companion peered out from his boxers, forcing its way out of his pants to take a look at the dominion they had together come to conquer.
He began by neutralizing any initial alarm. He crashed down upon her form, striking her once with the back of his hand to awake her, then immediately thrusting the same hand down to the back of her throat to silence any protest. Quickly unzipping his pockets, he grabbed for the heavy-duty masking tape he had made sure to bring, quieting her down with a forceful layer of tape over her lips. A spark of recognition finally lit up in her eyes as she understood who he was. A moment of hope, of optimism, of her thinking he was simply here for a casual hook-up like those of the past. If only she were so lucky. This thought was immediately crushed as he seized control of her hands, cuffing them together above her head so she could do little more than thrash around like a fish out of water. Next he sliced through the thin fabric of her evening panties with his razor-like fingers, immediately reaching for the familiar spot of her clitoris and squeezing it like a therapeutic stress ball. The result was far from therapeutic, as she flailed for mercy, almost breaking through the metal cuffs with her dash of energy. Fortunately for him, his supplies were all too functional, and her efforts were entirely futile.
Keeping his grasp on her pounding clit steady, but now opting for a sporadic release and squeeze technique, allowing her a few seconds of recovery before reverting back to crippling pressure placed on her nerve endings, he grabbed her by the throat. Pulling her up to meet with his eyes, he spoke in a hushed tone.
“You did this to me. You left me dry and dirty, longing for your embrace, reaching for salvation only to find none. Now I am taking it all for myself, I am taking you, and you – you better hope you enjoy it. Because I will not be stopping. There is no safe word. There is no emergency protocol. There is my cock, and there’s what I am going to do to you with it. That, that is all you, you worthless whore, will be getting. Am I clear?” Her eyes glued to his own, she trembled and shook in tremors of fear. “Answer me. Am I clear?” The commanding vibrations of his voice caused her to finally nod unwillingly in submission. This is what he had always wanted. Streams of tears streaming down her shining face, her limbs spasming out of despair, and his towering silhouette standing above it all, a brutal leather belt in one hand, and his soaking wet cock in the other. With one last look at the beautiful rows of moisture flowing from her eyes, he let the belt fall upon the flawless crossroads of her breasts.
Lashing upon lashing, like the medieval torture of old, her nipples grew bruised and battered under the weight of each oncoming strike. Where there was once soft, untarnished deposits of appealing fat, there were now only bloody scars left by the merciless wrath of the belt. The sagging bags of sorrow grew weary with abuse, falling into themselves as they were made lifeless. And through it all, his cold eyes relishing each fresh slice cut into her flesh. Furiously pulling his cock into her now seeping pussy hole, he let loose the volcano of torment he had been nurturing for far too long. Sparing one moment to tie the belt around her tits so that the spheres of meat were painfully pushed up against each other like some sort of thrusting treetop cutting through the horizon, he began dismantling the tight walls of her pussy. He began by only moving forwards, then side to side, then up and down, enjoying every moment of his cock inside of her now limp body. She had seized to struggle, instead resigned to her unrelenting fate, though still moaning for mercy quite audibly beneath the masking tape. Before he knew it, he had already cum deep inside of her. However, determined as he was to ensure her suffering for as long as she remained conscious, he kept pushing himself further inside of her, forcing his appendage to remain erect even whilst swirling in a mangled pool of both of their discharge.
Suddenly, he realized he had failed to make use of his entire gallery of excruciating equipment. He pulled one hand away from her swollen nipple, while keeping the other locked on its target of her now bleeding clit. He reached for the metallic string of interlocking chains he had latched onto his side before entering. Threading them through the tight, trembling opening of her ass, he ushered in a good five inches of pure stainless steel before returning once more to his tasks of the striking type with his belt. The room was now filled with a mixture of the clinking of the chains as they were flung back and forth by the pounding rhythm of their bodies, the squelching of her pussy overflowing with the cum of both the victim and the perpetrator, and the incessant cries for help emanating from her sealed mouth as his rough, calloused hand tore through her tits, inflicting as much damage as they could with brute force.
A satisfied grin spread across his visage. Seeing her there spread out like a doll torn of its stuffing, breathing in and out heavily, reaching out to him with her pained expressions hoping for mercy only to receive harder thrusts into her organs, he felt at last at peace. This is what he had needed all along. Not to get his dick sucked, not to play around with a bit of casual BDSM, and definitely not to just fuck. He needed to rape someone. He needed to rape her and see how her body and mind crumbled against his remorseless passion. And now he had it. He had all of it. He had her blemished, beaten breasts rolling through his fingers, he had her torn and tattered pussy drowning his cock, and, best of all, he had her agonized eyes screaming out to him in terror as she, like the phoenix, was reborn in the scalding ashes of his rape.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/euxgkw/sweet_vengeance_a_rape_fantasy