My name is Tristen, and I live in DC. I am a freshman at American University, and when I'm not going to school or studying, I work. About two months ago, I started working in a sex shop in Georgetown. One might think that because I work at a sex shop I must be quite experienced. But that couldn't have been farther from the truth. In fact, I had no real experience. I'd only had sex once, and because it was so mediocre, I swore I'd wait until I met someone worthy enough. As a result, I internalized all of my carnal urges, never really having any outlet for them. Lately I had been entertaining the idea of bondage, reading up on it, educating myself. I even began corresponding over the Internet with people in the area that were into it. I'd gone so far as to discuss fantasies with these people about certain places I'd dreamt of having sex and how I wanted it to be done. But I never intended to follow through with my fantasies. Hell, I really didn't even think I was that in need of sex. And I honestly never thought that someone would have to take it from me before I realized how much I really wanted it.
It was 1 in the morning, and I was riding the Metro home from The Mars Volta show at the 9:30 club. I was wearing my knee-high five-inch platform boots that I got at a consignment shop and my sexy little black dress that I felt good and looked even better in. I wore a black velvet choker with a little pendant on it and a buckle in the back. I'd always loved that necklace, it made me feel very secure, made me feel like someone's pet, even though I'd been single since sophomore year in high school.
I'd had a very good night and had every intention of going home and getting a good nights rest. I was alone on the car, except for one other person, sitting on the farther end of the car. I was used to riding home by myself; I always carried a bottle of pepper spray and a pocketknife with me just in case. So, I honestly felt no threat from him. He had broad shoulders and a shaved head, a look that he seemed to pull off very well, like he'd always had a shaved head. His caramel colored skin accented his sleek features, making his appearance seem soft yet domineering. He was sitting on the other side of the car, wearing jeans and a black button up shirt and he was holding a brown trench coat in his arms. He seemed like the quiet type, the kind that wouldn't make the first move until he knew for sure that he'd come out the victor. And, to be honest, I found him very attractive.
I periodically glanced over my shoulder at him. He kept his gaze fixated on the floor, but, every now and then, I caught him quickly shifting his eyes from me when I looked back at him. A few times I caught him smiling at me. It amused me. After a while, it became a game to me. His deep brown eyes were complimenting me, undressing me and I knew it. As I tried to catch him staring, I became excited, aroused even. I finally stopped playing my game and minded my own business. I pulled out a book and started reading. For some reason, my attention was turned back to the stranger for a second, and I noticed he wasn't there. There hadn't been any stops in between the time that I had last looked at him, so I got a little suspicious. I looked down at my book, and continued reading, trying to ignore the fear and arousal knotting in my stomach. Suddenly, a man wrapped his arm around my throat, and instinctively, I fought back. With his other hand, he grabbed my wrists and held them behind my back. I tried to scream, but I couldn't; his arm was so snug around my neck that all I could do was focus on breathing. He pulled me out of my seat and led me over to the very back of the train. He wrapped something around my wrists to keep me from flailing my arms, and forcefully slammed me up against the wall of the train, knocking the wind out of me. I doubled over, coughing and gasping for air. He knelt down and raised my chin up with his index finger.
"You should learn not to be such a tease, doll," he said to me. His eyes glinted devilishly in the low light of the car. I wanted to protest, but for some reason my throat closed up. I wasn't sure if it was because I was scared or aroused or still winded from the blow, but all I knew was that I couldn't utter a sound. He picked me up and set me on one of the seats in the far back, parallel to the operating room. He whipped out a key from his pocket and opened the door to the operating room and opened it, swinging so that it closed us off from the rest of the car. At this point, I was horribly terrified...and horribly moist. I stared at him, glaring and indignant. His facial expression remained in an all-knowing smirk. When he came at me, I responded by kicking and resisting. In response, he smacked me hard in the mouth. He grabbed the scarf off of my head, ripped it in half, and used it to tie my legs apart; one to a metal pole, the other to a plastic armrest. He slid a hand up my skirt and pushed it up, exposing my lacy black panties. He then reached behind me and carefully untied my arms and repositioned them above my head. He then directed his attention back to my panties. He whipped out a knife and grabbed my panties.
I started struggling, trying to get away from his hand but he pointed the knife at me and said, "If you want to keep your clit, you'll stay still." So I stayed still. The tears immediately began to flow down my cheeks as I watched him cut away my panties. In the process, he nicked me, causing me to yelp. His attentions turned towards the cut, where he almost lovingly lapped up the blood. I was confused by the sudden softness in his demeanor. While I was distracted by his show of compassion, he abruptly shoved two fingers deep inside me, proving his belief that I liked his attentions, despite my protests.
"No, please don't", I whimpered, through frightened breaths. His fingers began slowly working me from the inside out.
"You say no, but your body disagrees with you. Why is that, my little slut?" he replied mockingly while continuing to play on my weakness. My hips started reacting to the fingers slowly fucking me, raising up to meet them every time they pulled out to thrust back in. I tried to contain my growing desire; it had been so long since I'd had sex, and since I'd only done it once, I never knew it could be like this. But as my common sense started to leave me, my lust became even harder to ignore. With his fingers still in me, he used his other hand to unbutton my dress, exposing my bra that I chose to match with my panties. I realized when I saw him chuckle that It had a hook in the front.
"Please, I beg of you, don't do this to me," I said as my breathing grew even harder, out of what it was hard to say. Was I feeling ashamed? Scared? I wasn't sure. All I knew was even though I said no, the carnal side of me was begging him not to stop.
"Hmm, a girl that wears knee high boots, a skimpy black dress and a lacy black bra with a clasp in the front, and you aren't a nymph. I don't believe you. You'd make such a perfect little slave," he said tauntingly into my ear as he unclasped my bra. I cursed myself for my attempt at trying to dress provocatively; I didn't know it would perpetuate a situation like this. He exposed my breasts to the chilled air, causing my nipples to harden and grow deep red in color. He teased them with his tongue, arousing me even more. I couldn't help but moan a little, and it seemed to encourage him. I continued to moan, no matter how hard I tried to stop. I started panting as his two fingers fucked me and kept his mouth fastened on my nipple. I could feel my orgasm building, rising. Internally I begged for that one tiny push I needed to send me over the edge. The feeling, being so foreign to me, just about drove me crazy. The hypnotic rocking of the train didn't help either my attempt at subduing my impending orgasm. My breathing quickened and my heart raced, and I was looking over the peak... and then he stopped and pulled his fingers out of me. I couldn't help but whimper at the absence of his fingers and the realization at my need for release. I know my eyes were wide, I didn't realize that subconsciously I was encouraging him. But he took one look at my face and laughed.
"You want it and you know it, you cute little slut," he said softly as he reached up and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, "But I'll only give it to you on one condition." I shook my head "no" in response. My chest heaved in frustration, I wanted him to fuck me silly but I couldn't bring myself to say so.
"Even though you say you don't want release, I know you do, I can read your body," he said as he with one hand ran a finger down the valley in between my breasts and discreetly, with his other hand, unzipped his pants. "So because of that," his voice lowered and he positioned himself at the opening of my vagina, and with one swift movement, he impaled me with his fully erect member. We gasped in unison and he leaned over and said, "I'm going to make you to beg for it"
I shook my head "no" feverishly as he slowly began to pump at me, his hands on my hips, guiding me down on his cock. I tugged at my bonds, desperately trying to escape them, but with each thrust my urge to rebel subsided. I began to get into it, enjoying every thrust. I wanted more and more, I started moving my hips with his, trying frantically to push his cock deeper and deeper into my deprived cunt till he was buried to the hilt. He began to thrust faster, moving his hips in a circular motion, hitting every little sensitive spot inside me. While I was temporarily distracted by all of the pleasure I was experiencing, he leaned over and bit my neck, hard. The feeling shocked me, it hurt. A lot. But I wanted more, so I tried to arch my back, exposing myself to his cruelty. I could feel my orgasm building again, this time it was stronger than ever before. I could feel it already shaking my body, sending tiny ripples of pleasure all through me, causing me to tense up and arch my back. My moans turned into screams of pleasure. I needed it so badly. Right as I just about hit the peak, he stopped again.
"I thought I told you to beg," he growled at me. My chest heaved and knew I would have to let go of my pride if I wanted to feel the rush of the best orgasm of my life, "If you don't, I could leave you hanging on the edge and I can just finish myself off."
"P..p..please.." I sheepishly whispered through labored breaths.
"Please, what?" he said, his eyes penetrating me, looking right through me.
"Please.. I want..to..." I started again; this time mustering all I had in me to actually say the words.
"What? Tell me!" and with that he slapped me across the face. I couldn't take anymore, that smack, that delectable pain shooting through me caused me to drop all my reservations.
"Please, make me cum! I want to cum! I NEED to cum!" I practically yelled, and with that he furiously started pumping my extremely tender pussy. I screamed and shook as my orgasm rocketed through me, sending me into convulsions. The juices just began to rush like a waterfall. I could hear him cum as I came, and it only made me cum harder. Our moans intermingled into a sound so loud the conductor probably could hear it. I gasped for breath as every little bump the train hit sent me into a mini orgasm. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness and then a nice warm darkness accompanying the orgasm descended upon me, and I passed out.
I was woken up by a woman in a Metro uniform, standing over me, nudging me with her foot. I opened my eyes sleepily and looked up at her. Realizing what had happened and assuming I was still half naked, I sat bolt upright.
"Its not what it looks li-" I started to say, but then I noticed that I had been wrapped in a big trench coat.
"Drinking last night?" The woman asked me, with a raised eyebrow and her hands on her hips.
