They’d meet at the museum. She’d be on her own. He’d be on his own. A tour would go past and the guide would make some poor attempt at humour. Maybe he’d make a quip and she’d hear him. She’d giggle and throw a smile his way. He was cute, after all. She’d be mesmerised by his eyes if he happened to glance her way — which he would, briefly, winking. Then they’d both go their separate ways, but stumble into each other repeatedly. Eventually he’d smoothly make the observation that clearly the universe wants them to have drinks. She’d blush and accept.
He’d have convinced her to go to his apartment. She knows better than to do that with a stranger, but she’d be helpless to refuse under his intense gaze. She’d say yes, simply because it felt like he were commanding her to say yes. The thought made her body tingle with excitement.
She’d go to his apartment, and he’d make her a drink. Maybe he’d touch her arm. She’d readjust her blouse to show off more of her cleavage. She’d put her hand on his while laughing at some absurd comment that wasn’t even funny. She’d notice the way he was looking at her, hungrily, expectantly. She’d lean closer and look directly into his penetrating eyes. He’d smirk at her in a way that made her knees weak.
It was inevitable they’d kiss. He’d lean in and brush a stray hair away from her cheek, and just as she began to stutter in nervousness, he’d lean in and kiss her. The kiss would start soft, almost sweet, but there would be an intensity to it that would make her melt into his embrace. His fingers would start tangling in her hair. His other arm would lock around her waist and pull her against his chest possessively. His hands would start to drift, brushing her breasts, cupping them. His fingers would lift and linger over the buttons of her blouse, popping the first few buttons loose. He’d glance down and groan in lust. The kiss would become more animalistic and wild. He’d slide his hands down to her waist and start slipping one into her skirt. She’d suddenly panic and break away from him, still in his grasp but trying to pull free and starting to make excuses for having to leave.
He’d let go, though reluctantly, and she’d make a move to leave. As soon as she stood, however, her head would swim and her body would feel suddenly heavy. She’d look at him in confusion.
“Problem?” He’d murmur dangerously.
She’d look at him in amazement, glancing briefly between her empty drink glass and back at his dark smirk. He’d lean close and once again he’d flip hair away from her cheek. He’d run his fingers from her cheek to her chin, down her neck, along her shoulders, sliding the blouse backwards to drift around her waist, mostly unbuttoned at this point. He’d squeeze each breast experimentally before sliding them free of her bra.
He’d bite each of her nipples, hard. She’d try to scream, but it would come out as a soft mewl. It almost sounded like pleasure. She’d try to push him away but her arms wouldn’t respond. All her movements were weak and unconvincing. Each minute stretched endlessly as he suckled at her tits with smug satisfaction, as her struggles weakened and her soft protests faded into moans.
“Sorry for the delay, kitten. It takes a while to kick in completely,” He’d laugh, clearly not apologetic in the slightest. He’d be enjoying having her conscious but in his full control.
“Fuck… you…” she’d finally manage as a whisper.
He’d scowl and slap her, hard. Her ears would ring and the side of her face would sting.
“Manners,” he’d wag his finger warningly at her. “Though I think I’m about to lose you, so let’s get moving.”
He’d throw her over his shoulder effortlessly and carry her away from the living room. She’d hang limply, and his hand would slide under her skirt to grab her ass. It would be the last thing she’d remember before everything went dark.
Just as suddenly, she’d wake up. He’d have her strapped down on a narrow cot, just wide enough for her body. Her arms would be bound behind her back with leather arm cuffs.There’d be numerous leather straps over her body that no amount of struggle seemed to loosen. The cot ended in a y shape with stirrups, each of her legs tied into place. She’d be spread and vulnerable. She’d be naked, except for her panties. She’d panic, writhing and yelling for help.
But he’d come out of nowhere and clamp a hand over her throat, the yell turning into a gurgle and a desperate, choked gasp for air. She’d fight her bindings harder and squirm to get free. He’d watch with some cruel amusement and then suddenly slap her across the face. Once, twice, thrice. She’d look at him, dazed and somewhat disoriented, lost immediately in his gaze.
“Stop yelling. Be a good girl and stay quiet. Is that understood?” She’d stare blankly, and he’d slap her face again, then both of her breasts. “I told you to mind your fucking manners. You’ll be quiet, and I’ll let go of your throat. Is that understood?” She’d nod mutely, trying to hiss a yes of compliance, gurgling breathlessly instead. He’d smirk down at her, almost with fondness, and release her throat. Before she could properly catch her breath, he’d pinch both her nipples and twist them, hard. She’d howl loudly, but upon catching the look on his face, she’d bite her lip and whimper as quietly as she could, still in pain.
“There’s a good girl,” he’d murmur. He’d pace around the cot and run his fingers along her bare skin, occasionally pausing to slap hard enough to leave a bright red handprint. Then he’d chuckle, walking to stand between her legs and running a finger over her panties.
“You’re soaked, you know.”
She’d stammer in anxiety, try to deny the growing warmth she’d been feeling since she awoke, since he’d started slapping her face and her body. But now he’d seen her filthy secret. He knew how turned on she was by his torment. And he’d break out into a broad grin.
“I do enjoy a twisted little slut,” he’d remark brightly, pulling her panties aside.
He’d slide two fingers into her slick cunt, and he’d laugh delightedly at the moan she’d be unable to hold back. Then he’d slide his fingers back out, slowly, and hold them out to her mouth.
“Open up.” he’d murmur, trying to force her lips apart. “Suck my fingers clean.”
She’d refuse, of course, and he’d sigh. “You’re disappointing me, kitten. I didn’t want to do this.” He’d walk away, and she’d think it was over, and she’d relax. Instead, he’d have walked over to his wall of implements pick out a long cane. He’d turn on his heel and stride slowly and casually back to her. Her eyes would widen. Before she had time to protest, he’d snap it across her nipples. She’d scream. He’d strike her again, and then once more, all the way up to ten lashes across her tits, leaving them covered in angry, red stripes.
“That was ten times. Keep acting out and the number will go up. Now open your fucking mouth and lick my fingers clean.”
She’d have dissolved into tears, obediently opening her mouth and suckling his fingers, tasting her juices as he’d wanted her to.
“Now I’m going to fuck you.”
She’d panic again and beg him to let her go. She’d struggle and writhe and tug at every binding, but the leather would not give. He’d chuckle at the spectacle and walk around to her face. her struggling would pause as her confusion became evident.
“Your face, kitten. I’m fucking your face.”
She’d shake her head and try to keep her mouth shut. He’d run his fingers along her jaw gently. Then he’d slap her across the face, then backhand her other cheek. He’d squeeze her nose shut and cover her mouth until she started bucking in desperation for air. He’d let go, and she’d gasp for air. He’s use the opportunity to an o ring into her mouth, and deftly buckling it behind her head.
“No biting, kitten,” he’d quip, smirking at how widely this gag would force her mouth open.
He’d unzip his pants slowly, and she’d gasp at the size of his throbbing cock, struggling and shaking her head no until he’d hold her head between his hands and shoved his cock into her mouth and straight down her throat.
He’d start slow but quickly pick up speed. She’d quickly be drooling and gagging repeatedly. He’d occasionally would hold his dick down her throat long enough for her to buck and writhe in absolute terror and lack of air. She’d be sobbing ceaselessly, which just seemed to make him fuck her face harder and faster. At one point he’d wipe a tear with his fingertip and bring it to his lips. He’d wink down at her before forcing himself ruthlessly down her throat again, groaning in satisfaction at each choked gurgle and gagging sound that came from her.
“Oh, you filthy fucking whore,” he’d grunt, “you hungry little cum slut. You worthless fuck cunt.”
It was at this point that she’d cry even harder. He’d stop and slide his throbbing cock out of her mouth, then slap each of her cheeks repeatedly. Once, twice, thrice… after ten, she lost count, the ringing in her ears and constant burning in her face stunning her into total silence.
“I’ve had enough of your sloppy mouth, slut. I’m going to fuck you until I cum in your lovely little pussy.”
She’d start begging, but he’d slap her again, and she’d whimper and cry silently.
He’d walk around her prone body again, and up between her legs, pulling her panties aside and sliding in a single thrust into her dripping cunt. “Oh, you wonderful fuck toy, you’re so wet for your rapist.”
He’d start fucking into her, grabbing her hips with each hand for leverage and gyrating his hips to grind his dick against the back of her pussy. She wouldn’t be able to help a soft moan of pleasure. He’d immediately notice and laugh as he held himself deep inside her pussy repeatedly. His cock would throb inside her as he slapped his hips into hers harder and faster. He’d suddenly stop, and rub her clit furiously until eliciting a loud, involuntary moan of pleasure from her.
“Don’t get too carried away, there,” he’d chuckle. “You don’t get to cum quite yet.”
He’d undo his belt, the only thing still keeping his pants up, and let them drop down around his ankles. He wasn’t wearing underwear, she’d note quietly. He’d glance up at her face at the sound, smirking and winking. He’d then fold the belt over and snap it against his hand, raising his eyebrows at her. She’d immediately shrink from him.
He’d fuck into her a couple more times, then unexpectedly snap the belt diagonally across her left breast and belly. She’d scream, dissolving again into tears and arching her back in agony. He’d laugh and continue fucking her pussy.
“I knew that would make you even more wet. Well done, kitten.”
It would go on for what seemed like an eternity. he’d pound her pussy, strike her tits and bare skin with the belt until she was covered with welts and bleeding where the buckle caught her skin. He’d slap her face, just to keep her awake and alert, every time it seemed like she’d start sliding into catatonia.
Then finally he’d spurt round after round of his cum right into her pussy, silencing her protests with his hand pressing into her throat, holding down until her face had turned red and her eyes were rolling back in her head.
Then he’d slip out of her dripping, cum-filled pussy, and stroke himself until a few more strings of cum exploded across her bruised tits and face.
“I think this is good for a start. We’re going to have a lovely time together, I think,” he’d wink at her. Despite her terror and pain, she would see his wink and be unable to control every muscle squeezing in an intense orgasm. He’d raise his eyebrows, surprised at first, but then laughing.
“Oh, I didn’t expect that one. You came from getting raped. You filthy little slut,” he’d chuckle.
He’d turn to walk away, leaving her sticky and covered in cum, used and still bound for the next time.
“See you next time, kitten.”
The door would click behind him and she’d be alone, his fuck toy in storage until next time he wanted her.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/kggyfn/nsfw_noncon_cnc_rape_maledom_mf_a_fantasy_i
I liked this.
The use of third person was a bit odd. I mean it could work in third person but “he would…” makes it sound like it isn’t happening and it is difficult to get into.
Also from about the mid point to the end it was more descriptive and you were almost showing rather than telling. That approach should be used within the entirety of the piece.
You can still have a peice of narrative summary but make it like: “They had met at a museum. She smiled at his jokes and found excuses to touch his arm playfully….”
I would suggest reading Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty Trilogy. It is in this style and will show you how to master the genre.
Very well written; I do agree with the first comment though and I can understand your want to distance yourself from the piece.
That said, this is the first piece in a long while to elicit a visceral response from me as I read it. I would love to see more of your work.