Fun, but harmless. (Part 2. Warnings: noncon, abuse.)

(Warning: noncon, abuse. First part can be found [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uh3t6b/fun_but_harmless/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf). Thanks to everyone who responded/messaged/threatened, hadn’t intended on writing a followup otherwise so this wouldn’t have happened without you. Feedback always welcome!)

There’s a certain type of man that thinks that they’re entitled to you just because you’re small and Asian and female. They’re everywhere. Uni, grad school, the white-collar workplace. I’d never gone out with any of them, but I’ve ran into plenty over the course of life. Some were colleagues I’ve worked with, some were students I’ve taught, others were bosses or supervisors.

But none had ever managed to have me gagged and ziptied to my own bed before.

I thought he was going to just rape me. Unzip his pants, take out his cock, shove it into my waiting cunt. I was wet enough for it, thanks to my traitorous body.

But the knife flashed in his hand once again, and darker thoughts flashed through my mind. The fingers of his other hand yanked the gag from my mouth.

“Please,” I whispered. The last thing I needed to do was to piss off my knife-wielding rapist by speaking too loudly. “You don’t need to do this. I promise, I won’t call the police, I won’t even-”

Fun, but harmless.

(Warning: noncon.)

I’d always thought of posting on Reddit was much like going to the grocery store without panties – fun, but ultimately harmless as long as you were careful. So I set some rules for myself. No face. No identifying features. No landmarks. No ID or anything like that. Simple rules. Easy to follow. I could have fun as long as I followed them.

And it was fun. I’ve always liked teasing guys, ever since I noticed just how they’d look at my long legs or shapely ass when they thought I wasn’t looking. Or even when they knew I was. Those were my favorite, honestly. The men who wanted me so badly they weren’t afraid to show it. It only made me want to give them more. A glimpse of cleavage, a sway of the hips, a swipe of the tongue across my lips. The little things that would drive them up the wall without making me a slut.

Because I’m not a slut. I’d give them more, but not everything. That was the fun of it, wasn’t it? Being the unattainable girl, the ‘good’ one who’d never put out, the one who was oblivious about the power she held over the male gaze. I liked being her.