Alistair Higgins was typing one-handed. He was also nude, sitting at his laptop. Despite employing only five digits, the words were flowing. He wrote his best work like this. He slowed the rhythm of his other hand, wanting to synchronize with his characters.
Crystal looked up in fear, her arms were tied, her ankles were tied and spread wide, her cunt and asshole defenseless and vulnerable. He'd cut her clothing off her with scissors. She'd scream, but it would do no good. The house was too remote. Instead she tried to reason with her captor.
"Please, Alistair. You don't want to do this. Please don't do this."
Alistair loved it when they pleaded with him. He realized that he had been stroking harder. Again he slowed, tried to calm down. The thing was that Crystal was so fucking hot. Blonde, curvy, great tits, pretty in a slutty sort of way. Just how he wanted a woman to be. They were all sluts anyway. Giving it away to other guys, but never interested in Alistair. He'd show that bitch Crystal, and all the other bitches,
"But I want to do this, Crystal, and that's all that matters. You can see that I do."
Alistair looked down suggestively at his massive, rigid, throbbing cock.
"I know what you want, Crystal. It's all that sluts like you ever really want. And I'm going to give it to you, give it to you hard. Just how you like it, you fucking whore."
"No, Alistair, it's too big. You'll split me in half. Please, Alistair.
"It's too fucking late to plead, Crystal. You think I went to all the bother of drugging you, driving you out here in my trunk, and tying you up, just to let you go?"
Alistair stepped forward and stood between Crystal's trembling legs. He ignored her ongoing pleading. He ignored her tears. Instead he positioned himself and...
Shit!
He'd got too carried away... again. The tip of Alistair's entirely modest cock just about made it out past his clenched fist, and the last spurts of a rather unsatisfying orgasm were oozing from it. He'd made rather a mess, despite the small volume of semen involved. This was what he had the plastic cup for, but he'd got too involved in his latest story.
Alistair grabbed a handful of Kleenex and tried to mop up. What a waste, he was going to write about fucking Crystal's ass, and her squealing like a pig. At least that's what he assumed she'd do, his actual knowledge of what women did in intimate situations was pretty meager, unless you counted what happened on Unwilling Teen Dot Com, that is.
"You still awake, Ali dear?"
A voice drifted down to the basement. For a second, Alistair was terrified that he had forgotten to bolt the door. But 'no' he told himself he'd followed his ritual. He did it for a reason.
"Just going to sleep, Mom. Love ya," he replied,
Alistair picked up his T shirt and sniffed it. Still another couple of days until he got mom to wash it. His boxers were also fine for a a while yet. He'd really wanted to have a good orgasm before bed, but there was always tomorrow, and Crystal certainly wasn't going anywhere.
He got into his bed, pulled the covers up over him, and clicked off the light. For a while he thought about the new woman at ShopRite. The hot one. The one with the massive tits. But even the image of her couldn't provoke Alistair's now irredeemably flaccid interest. Rather grumpily, he settled down to sleep.
Alistair was restless, tossing and turning. Then he suddenly woke, splayed out on his bed. There was a strange red luminescence in the room, enough to see by. Alistair was shivering and the covers were somehow missing. The next thing he noticed was that he had an erection again, well that was good, so soon after... But - as he tried to touch his small, thin pole - he found that he couldn't. His wrists were bound and - as he tried to also move them - his ankles too. And then a lock of hair strayed across his face. What the actual fuck? Alistair was balding and what hair he had was short and brown. This was flowing blonde.
Then he heard laughter, and the source of the strange radiance was revealed. Standing at the end of Alistair's bed was... well it was unmistakably a devil, or a demon, or something. The large figure loomed over the prone and restrained human. His - he was nude and his gender was evidenced by an erect appendage that must have been close to a foot long - his skin was red and glowed, almost seeming to pulse. His aquiline face was topped with horns, accentuated by a black goatee, and his mouth was pulled into a leer, exposing jagged teeth. As Alistair looked at the intruder in terror, the demon's tail lashed.
"Hello, Crystal," he intoned in a deep voice, reminiscent of the late James Earl Jones.
"Wait, I'm not Crystal," said Alistair in panic. He glanced down, despite the hair situation, his body was still his own, rather flabby, overweight, male one.
"You're my Crystal tonight," guffawed the devil.
Alistair opened his mouth, but only a squeak came out. Despite his dread, the stricken human's tiny cock still throbbed, it always had had a mind of its own.
"Please allow me to introduce myself," the demon began, before clearly having second thoughts. "Too cheesy, maybe? Yeah, I think so. Anyway, my name isn't Beelzebub, people like you don't merit His attention. I'm Mashhith, you can call me Mash, and I'll be your rapist for the evening."
Alistair found his voice. "But... why?"
Mash looked confused for a moment, then he waved a hand and a scroll puffed into existence. Unrolling it, the demon traced the text with his index finger - it was long and ended in a black claw.
"Oh yes, here we are. Apparently, rape porn is just a - what did you say? - 'a bit of harmless fun,' hmm..." The demon's eyes traversed down further. "And also 'transgressive naughtiness, reflecting the breadth of human sexuality,' very eloquent, I can tell you're a writer."
"But... but..." stuttered Alistair, "what I write is fantasy, not anything I want to do in real life, let alone have done to me."
Mash frowned, "So all that choking the chicken while your FMC gets sexually assaulted, and often beaten as well? That's all just normal, wholesome fun, right?"
"It's not real," pleaded Alistair.
"Well that's fine, I mean neither is this. I'm a demon for fuck's sake, Crystal, demons aren't real. This isn't really happening."
As he spoke, Mash enclosed Alistair's inadequate cock in his clawed hand and squeezed hard. "Anyway," the demon continued, "it seems like he is enjoying this. Be honest with yourself, it's what you've always really wanted isn't it? To be raped by a powerful male, am I right, Crystal?"
"No, no, no... you've got it all wrong. I want to rape..."
Alistair suddenly stopped himself.
Mash's grin broadened. He waved his hand again, and a quill appeared. He scratched with it on the scroll. "And that's section 11.3.2 complete." He looked up at Alistair and explained, "The confession, always good to get the paperwork in order. Now shall we start with the rape?" Mash gripped his massive, red cock, which seemed to grown even larger, and steered it toward Alistair.
"No, it's too big. You'll split me in half. Please!"
"You know women just say that shit to show how much they really want to be fucked, right, Crystal?"
