I can remember the exact moment I first started fantasising about rape.
It was on a mid-summer day – one of those hot, heavy summers, where the sweat clings to every inch of you. Where it's always beading on your forehead, and no matter how high you turn the air-con, it won't go away.
I was home alone when it happened. I often was as a young girl – me and my parents lived in this big country house, out in the middle of nowhere, and with both of them away on business a lot, I often had it to myself. Sometimes, in the summer, they'd leave me alone for days – and those were some of the most wonderful days of my young life. Most teen year old girls would be bored by this, of course. Since I lived in the countryside, there weren't many other kids around, and I imagine lots of girls would find it lonely. Not me though. I was one of those kids who liked being alone – the nerdy girl who sat at the back of the classroom reading, while all the other girls gossiped at the front.
And those long, empty summers were what I lived for.
Don't get me wrong, I liked other people – but in the summer I could sit and relax on my own. Read all day, watch tv, go lie in the sun. We even had a pool in the back garden, and I loved nothing better than to slip into it on a hot day and let the chill waters cool me. Sometimes, I even left my bikini indoors. That's one of those things you could do when you were alone. Let the water slide over your naked body as you swam – over your chest, your thighs… between your legs…
There was something about that, about swimming naked, which always got me excited. I mean, I didn't understand it at the time. I didn't know what it was. But I remember whenever I thought about doing it, I got this feeling build up inside me – my chest got all tight and flushed and I could hear my pulse in my ears. And then, when I'd go outside – when I'd step into the water and feel it glide up my legs, feel the coolness of it lap against my pussy – all my muscles turned to jelly.
I can't remember what first gave me the idea, of course. But once I started doing it often, I just couldn't stop. There was something about it – something about being right there naked, outside, for the whole world to see. I knew it should have been scary, that I should've been embarrassed about being caught. And I was. But that feeling… it built up inside of me, even when I was trying not to give in – built up until I just had to do it. And so I'd swim there, in the pool, naked – right where anyone could spot me. Of course, we didn't have any neighbours, and there were tall hedges around our house – but I liked to imagine, sometimes, that I was being watched. That someone was hiding, just out of view, watching my every move. That always made the tingles run along the muscles inside of me… made every inch of me shiver…
I knew it was to do with sex of course – we'd had the talk in school, and my parents had sat me down and said "Grace, there's something we need to tell you about…"
Yeah, that talk – the most embarrassing moment of any teenagers life.
So I knew what it was. I even whispered about that sort of thing with the girls in school, talked about boys and sex and what it would be like. But… I was different… I mean, I sometimes got that feeling when I thought about sex, where my breathing went all heavy and my underwear got that little bit damp. But it wasn't the same as when I was in the pool – when I was all naked and alone, and anyone passing by might catch me. Sometimes I used to imagine what might happen if they decided they wanted to do something a little more than watch… how they'd come over and climb in… and there'd be nothing I could do to stop them…
It never went much further than imagining them climb in though. Once or twice I imagined them coming closer, reaching out – but when I started thinking about that, I'd usually get embarrassed and go inside. My mind knew where it wanted to go, but I don't think I was quite ready to let it.
Still, that idea, of being caught, being helpless? It got me excited in a way I'd never experienced before. Things got to the point where I'd be thinking about it in the middle of the day, even when I was doing something else. I'd just be reading, and the thought would pop into my head. All of a sudden, I would get all flushed – feel the heat of it coming to my cheeks and pooling between my legs. I'd imagine someone coming into my room then – coming to my bed and holding me down…
I'm surprised I didn't start masturbating sooner, really. The feeling was there, my pussy crying out to be touched. For some reason I never did though – the thought never came to my mind. Oh, I could have. When I was naked and huddled in the water, there was always that urge to run my hands over myself – to brush my fingertips over the pertness of my breasts, brush them over my skin and down between my thighs…
It was the idea of being raped that eventually pushed me over.
It happened while I was reading. It was a fantasy book, of all things. I was into that stuff as a girl, knights and wizards and dragons. But this one was different. The blurb was just as you'd expect, and I took it from the library without thinking. But it was much more adult than any of the other stories I'd read. I encountered my first sex scene about halfway through – the first one I'd ever read. It was full of heat and heady passion – of coiled lovers, bucking and moaning and thrusting against one another. My little cunt responded instantly. All that pent up teenage lust shot straight down to it, and I became very conscious of the rise and fall of my breasts. But it was two chapters later that things really took off. I mean, the sex had been exciting – I must have read that scene three times, and when I continued, it was because I wanted to find another. But the next one I found was more exciting than anything I'd ever expected.
It was about a girl – probably an adult now that I think about it, but at the time I was imagining she was my age. She was walking through an alley at night – alone with no one about. Just that was enough to get me wetter than the entire sex scene had. But when two figures stepped out? When they cornered her? I couldn't believe what I'd found. Couldn't believe it as they grabbed her and pressed her against a wall. As they tore at her clothes, forced her knees apart and slid their hands up the insides of their legs…
My own hand was moving. I wasn't really even aware of what I was doing, as it slipped down beneath my waistband. All I knew was that I needed to feel it – needed to feel what she was feeling as they forced themselves upon her.
I let out my first moan as my fingers found the softness of my clit. I hadn't expected that – hadn't expected the hot jolt of pleasure running through me. I gasped again. And I was scared – but I couldn't stop. I moved my fingers between the lips of my pussy as they pushed her to the floor. As she cried out and struggled and they wouldn't listen. When the first one undid his belt, I swear I almost came right there. And then the second one was holding her down as the first positioned himself between her legs. And as he thrust into her, my own finger slipped inside me – and I was imaging I was there, in that alley, lying on the floor. I was the one struggling and crying out, as this big man thrust into
me. I was the one who was helpless, unable to move – knowing he was going to fuck me until he filled me with his cum.
And when my fingers went found just the right spot – when my eyes went wide and I dropped the book, mouth open in a silent gasp – it was that rape I was imagining. When I went over the edge, when I came for the first time, bucking against my own fingers, it was him that was thrusting into me – hard and fast, and so much stronger than I could ever hope to be.
As I came, shivers running all up by body – the word I moaned was />
I lay there for a long time afterwards, panting and gasping on the bed. My legs were shaking – all of me was shaking. Little shivers ran over my breasts, and I felt like a single touch against my nipples would send me over the edge. They were harder than they'd ever been before. And that feeling, as I touched myself… I'd never felt anything like it. I could still feel little tingles of pleasure spreading outwards from my cunt, running under my skin and making me shiver. Slowly, I let my fingers slide out of me, and let out another little gasp at the emptiness off it. For a second there, as I came, it had felt like someone was actually fucking me – like they were forcing themselves into my cunt, and riding me raw. God, what would that feel like, an actual cock? A big one too? My fingers were actually quite small, but even one of them has felt bigger inside of me than anything I could imagine. I was small for my age, and my cunt was probably tighter than anyone else's in my class – even pushing my finger inside had been difficult… What would it feel like if someone forced there cock inside, all thick and hot and throbbing? Fuck, it would feel so full… it would hurt…
My toes curled at that thought, and I shut my eyes, another tingle running through me. Fuck, I'd been wet before, I could feel it on my fingers. But now I could feel it beginning to slick my lips. I needed to read that book again… read about how they'd grabbed her and forced her down. Were there any other passages like that in there? A small part of my mind remembered it was a trilogy, and my pussy tingled again as I realised there'd be more of this. Fuck, it was amazing. I bit my tongue and sat up, reaching for the book. Already, I could feel myself aching to be touched again, and I struggled to find the chapter with one hand, as I slipped the other into my waistband again.
Then I remembered the pool, and the book was forgotten.
Within minutes I was down there, and slipping naked into the water. I'd torn my clothes off and raced down the stairs the moment I thought of it. The book had been good – but the thought of being caught naked and alone in my pool had been turning me on for months. Now as I slipped into the water, the coolness of it sliding up my legs to lap against my cunt, i imagined what it would be like if a stranger actually saw me.
Quickly I made my way over to the end nearest the hedge. There was a spot there, a certain angle just by the corner, where you could be seen through a very small gap in the leaves. Of course, it was unlikely anyone WOULD see you, the gap was so small. But sometimes I liked to stand there with my breasts peeking over the edge of the pool, and imagine they could.
I stood there now, legs spread and eyes closed. Already I was running my hands over myself, brushing my fingertips over my neck and breasts… pinching my nipples as I ran my other hand down over my stomach. I let out a little gasp as I ran a finger over my clit and threw my head back, wondering what someone would think if they saw me like that. No doubt they'd make their way into the garden. They'd sneak around the back of the pool behind me, slipping out of their clothes. I'd be too busy to notice, shaking and thrusting my hips as my fingers moved inside of me. Slowly, I ran my fingers along my lips, biting my tongue to keep from moaning. I could imagine them sliding into the pool behind me, wading through the water, quiet as could be. They'd come right up behind me, towering over my young teenage body, watching as I whimpered and quivered against my own hands. They'd smile to themselves, just like those men had smiled in the book, when they saw that girl in the alleyway.
Then they'd grab me.
I slipped a hand over my mouth then, imagining what it would be like as they tried to stop me screaming. Just for a moment I screamed into my palm, just to imagine what it would feel like. Completely muffled. A feeling of utter helplessness washed over me, and I felt myself get close to the edge, as my fingers circled my clit.
Fuck, I'd never experienced anything like this in my entire life…
I'd struggle then, as he pushed me against the side of the pool, but there'd be nothing I could do. He'd bend me over the edge so my face was pressed hard to the ground, my little cunt just peeking out the top of the water, feet lifted off the floor. Then he'd hold me there, come close til I could feel the tip of his cock brushing against my inner thighs…
I moved then, leaning over the edge of the pool, and pressing me face into the hard concrete. I imagined him gripping my waist as I lifted my feet off the floor, imagined struggling against him as I ran my fingertips over my clit. I thought back to the story and the way they'd grabbed the girls throat as they raped her, squeezed it tight until tears beaded at the corners of her eyes and her face went red. My hand was only small, but as I squeezed my own throat, I imagined the big man behind me doing it – the roughness of his palms and the heat of his breath on the back of my neck as he held me there. I squeezed harder, and my face went suddenly tight, the blood struggling to get through. I moaned and gasped at that, the rough concrete cutting into my nipples. Fuck, he'd thrust into me next. He'd press the tip of his cock against my little cunt and thrust in so hard and it would hurt so much…
I paused for a second there, breath coming in heaving gasps. I could… I shouldn't but…
No, I needed to feel it.
One finger had almost been too much for my tight little pussy. Now I took three, pressing them hard between my lips. I let out a gasp at the pressure of it. Then I imagined him grabbing my hips, pressing down against me… thrusting deep inside…
I let out a half moan, half yelp as I forced my fingers deep inside myself. A sharp, hot pain shot through me, and I almost yanked them out again. But fuck, it felt so good too. I pressed in deeper and moaned again as I forced the walls of my cunt apart. Fuck, it hurt so good. I could just imagine him bottoming out in me, pulling me all the way onto him til his balls were pressed up against me. I moaned hard at that and buried my fingers deeper, squeezing my throat again as I imagined him fucking me. God, I wanted this for real. Imagine if someone actually did see me? Actually did rape me?
I got suddenly close then. I could feel it building in me as I pumped my fingers hard and fast inside myself, delighting in the feeling of being so used. My cunt ached from the force of my fingers, and my nipples were getting rubbed raw by the concrete, but that just made it even better. He'd keep thrusting into me, telling me what a little whore I was, how there was nothing to be gained from struggling. Then he'd start grunting and moaning, just like those men had as they raped that girl in the alley. I remembered the deion as she realised they were about to cum in her. The way her eyes went wide and she started struggling all over again, whimpering and crying as they got close. Then how, right as she'd been about to break free, the man grabbed her with a guttural moan. Held her down and shook – and then exploded inside of her. She'd screamed and kicked out, but it was too late, and she could feel spurts of ropy cum shooting inside of her, filling her up and coating her insides.
And then, suddenly I was cumming. My fingers found just the right spot, and my muscles began to shake. And I was imaging him cumming inside me as he fucked me from behind, going faster and faster, and then burying himself to the hilt as he bucked and moaned. The feeling of his hot cum pumping into me as he forced me face into the ground. And then I was bucking, a wave of pleasure even more intense than the last shooting through me. I let out a moan like no sound I'd ever made before and collapsed against the side of the pool, muscles going limp as the shivers rolled through me.
And with that, I slumped back into the waters, and let myself drift away in a dreamy haze, a wonderful, soft ache running through my young, naked limbs.
That's the story of how I first became interested in rape. And it only got more intense from there. I must've cum at least six more times that first day. It was only a few hours later, after I'd swum a bit more and gotten dressed that I felt the urge again. This time I made it last longer – stretched out on the bed and ran my hands over my body for at least an hour before I let myself cum. I wet my fingertips with my tongue and ran them over my stomach and hips, along by ribs and up to my breasts, where I circled my nipples before slowly running back down again. I liked to imagine the man from before – imagine he'd taken me up to the bedroom after fucking me in the pool and tied me down. Then he'd begun exploring my body – taking whatever he wanted, touching me wherever he wanted. After hours of teasing I began to touch myself in earnest, imagining he'd decided to fuck me once again. I imagined begging him not to, imagined him slapping me in the face and telling me to shut up, before thrusting hard and fast inside of me.
I must've cum three times in a row to that. I didn't stop after the first orgasm but kept going – by the third I was a mess, moaning and writhing on the sweat covered sheets.
I kept going for weeks after that, and my fantasies grew steadily more intense. Sometimes I imagined they'd drag me into their car and take me home, then keep me tied down in their basement and rape me every day. The first time I imagined that, I came harder than I ever had before, my chest growing heavy with the mix of fear and excitement.
My masturbation grew more involved too. I progressed from fingers to toothbrush and hairbrush handles, moving steadily bigger over time. It got to the point where I was using items just smaller than an actual penis would be – and they were almost too big for me. I wouldn't be gentle with them either. As soon as I got myself nice and wet I'd jam them in hard, revelling in the pain and helplessness of it, imagining someone was using me. I liked that – feeling like a piece of meat, just a cunt to be fucked. I imagined having my virginity taken that way. To have something so private and personal stolen so painfully. Fuck, it would be such a violation. To have someone take complete control of my body and take whatever they wanted from it, despite my struggles. Just the idea of it sent my cunt aching with desire. I wanted to be taken like that – wanted to be made completely helpless.
Eventually it got to the point where I was trying to make things more and more real. About a week after my first session, I decided to try masturbating outside of the pool. At first I just did it on the grass by the side – but eventually I started moving closer and closer to the hedge, until I was lying on the ground right next to the gap, cunt facing out to the road beyond. If anyone had been walking past the would have seen me, heard me. If they'd decided they wanted me, there'd be nothing I could do.
I began to find myself wishing they would walk past.
Oh, I'd imagined it before, and the desire had always been at the back of my mind. But lying there in the grass, I actually began to grow frustrated that they weren't appearing.
It didn't help that the one or two times I DID hear a car approaching or the crunch of boots, I got terrified and ran back inside. By the time I calmed down again, I was cursing myself for not being braver. Why couldn't I just wait a bit longer? Wait til they saw me and see what happened? If I was just a little bit braver, I might be able to experience my fantasy for real…
Eventually I started wondering if I could force myself to stay out there. What if I left the garden and went walking down the road, so I couldn't run if a car came? What if I somehow tied myself down where I could be seen? At first they were idle thoughts – I fantasised about them as I ran my fingers over my pussy, imagined them as I pinched on my nipples. But then they started getting more serious. What if I actually did do it? What if I put myself in a position where someone could actually rape me, if they had a mind to it?
The first time I made an actual plan that I thought would work, I came three times in a row. It wasn't just the fact that it was sexy, it was the fact that it was so REAL – that I could actually make it happen, if only I put my mind to it. I made more plans, some involving ties and restraints, others just my own body. One time, when i was out with my dad shopping, I bought the zip ties and duct tape I'd need to go through with one of my plans. Just to see what buying them would feel like. The next time I was alone, I spread them out on the bed and began to undress. If I wanted to, I could go outside and make it happen. I could get raped here and now.
That thought alone set my cunt dripping. To know that in less than an hour, I could have someone forcing their way into it was hotter than anything in the world.
Time passed, and the urges grew more intense. Until, right near the end of summer, I couldn't resist them any more…
TO BE CONTINUED…
[Author's Note: Feel free to message me if you enjoyed my slave's story, have any questions about her experience, or find yourself at all curious. Make sure you sound interesting though – I love talking to other people, but I don't like people who can't spell or can't hold up a proper conversation]
story by: Chris Frost
Tags: male/teen female masturbation young exhibitionism voyeurism first time hardcore rape torture bondage and restriction fantasm teen slavery female solo non-consensual sex extreme female exhibitionist sex story
Author: Chris Frost
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