Christmas Gift To Myself Pt 02

The following dark story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.

My eyes are closed so I won't have to see the sight in front of me, but I sure feel it. The old man forces my head down his cock over and over. His stiff manhood violates my mouth as he physically moves my head. Over and over I feel his cock slide over my tongue, not to mention smack the back of my mouth at times. And oh, I can taste that violating old cock.

As I blow him, I try not to think how I'm in the doorway of his apartment naked, on display for the world to see with my hands tied behind me. If he was my husband, I could write this off as us being sexy and adventurous, but this is as far away from that as you could get. Not just because he's older than dirt but because I've already been abused, molested and made helpless by strangers.

"That's it, use that mouth and those lips for Da-Da," Grandpa croons as he uses both hands to move my head up and down his hard shaft. The others that stripped and molested me referred to him as Paul, but everyone here calls him Grandpa.

"Christmas come early?" Some male asks as it walks by in the apartment hallway. I hear his heavy footsteps from down the long hallway getting closer with each step. He calmly walks towards me like this, treating this as a perfect normal sight to see.

"It surely did!" Grandpa replies to the man and they both laugh. They laugh evil, knowing laughs while tears fall down my cheeks.

That was the fifth person to walk by. Each one that has walked by acts like what he's doing is normal. Not one of them questioned if I even want to be doing this. They all are complacent with my new-modern rape, treating me as less than human. In fact, one woman told Grandpa he needed to be rougher with me, as she knew I could take it.

Tears fall down my cheeks as this is my fault. I got myself into this, and I don't know how to get out. I came here earlier tonight to try and rid the dark itch inside me from being raped. Where all I wanted was to confront my rapist and let him fuck me one final time. To have an orgasm like he gave me that fateful day he raped me.

But that's not what happened. What happened is I found this apartment complex is Perv's Plaza, where every apartment contains a sex offender. This is where they live as a community, looking out for and helping each other. Where when a victim shows up, someone other then their rapists prepares them, which boils down to being used by the entire community.

I did confront my rapist, but he denied me. Told me to go to some other apartment. Since I had taken an edible, I wasn't thinking correctly and stumbled onto the apartment of two evil women. There I was prepared, served up and violated by the two women.

"Here's your Christmas gift young lady," Grandpa says a few moments later, pushing my face against his stomach. He says this to mock me as under my breath I've repeated the phrase, "This is my Christmas gift," and variations like it. Having an intense orgasm like the day I was raped was supposed to be my Christmas gift. A gift that my husband or kids could give me.

I start to struggle at my face pressing against his old, saggy skin, not because his cock is gagging me or anything, but because I know what's coming. Being made to suck his cock is horrible enough, but I can't take him cumming in my mouth. I thought for sure he would come on my face, or maybe my breasts as he's made all sort of comments about how large they are.

His hands wrap into my hair, pinning me to his stomach. When I try to pull back, my hair gets yanked, painfully keeping me in place against him. Then I feel him cum in my mouth, his old man seed flooding my mouth as he moans loudly. Like a firehose turned on, my mouth feels flooded.

Starting to sob, I am forced to swallow his seed. My sobs are loud and ugly and powered by my own orgasm. Being so disrespected and humiliated like this overpowers my emotions. The feeling of being so helpless and used is too much for me to take so yet another orgasm moves over me. I can't even blame it on the edible I took earlier as this is like my fourth orgasm of the night.

The waves of joy move over me fast and hard. They cause my body to shudder and squirm where I am somehow able to hold in my moans. I'm sure my face turns red and filled with bliss as the sexual pleasure overtakes me. And with my body betraying me, I swallow all of his cum. Every single drop.

After he stops cumming, he holds his cock in my mouth. I know he does this as some sort of control thing, knowing I can't pull back until he wants me to. Where I'm made to taste his cock and cum in my mouth, knowing there's nothing I can do about it.

"Now young lady, you know you deserved that, right?" Grandpa asks, his cock still in my mouth. Only he yanks my hair and angles my head, making me look up at him. He does this, not caring that I'm crying.

"You deserved to be facefucked like a whore, and swallow all of my cum," he continues, as if he is my father teaching me some life lesson. A lesson that involves his dick in my mouth.

"Can...can I be given to

him

, now. Please?" I ask the old man, not wanting to converse with whatever mantra he may have about raping women. Even with his cock in my mouth, I know he understands me.

"Stand up little girl," the older man says, ignoring me. He then pulls on my hair, removing his cock from my mouth, not caring that it hurts me. After he pulls upward where I do manage to stand up with a grunt, wanting to scream at him that I'm not a little girl. I'm in my thirties, damn it.

"You can go ahead and drop the act. We both know you aren't hurt or being tortured," Grandpa states, still in that fatherly/teacher tone. Acting as if he's not keeping me tied up and naked in his hallway. If there is a better example of being violated and tortured, I can't think of it.

"We both know that the real person you are mad with, is yourself," the old man says looking at me as if I'm the degenerate rapist. Hearing this stuns me so much that I find I don't have a ready response.

Right after saying this he moves into his apartment where I think he's going to close the door on me. But instead he goes to a trunk that's against a wall. He opens the old thing, where I expect it to be filled with old people stuff, but it's not. It actually looks empty from where I am.

"Spare me your arm chair old man rants. Don't want to hear it," I tell him, finally able to think of something say, trying to be defiant despite my helpless stance.

The old bastard has to know that despite having my hands tied behind my back, I could still overpower and hurt him. Sure, it may be a fight, but I'm sure I could win. It would just take a few good kicks to put him down. As for everyone else here...that's a different matter.

"You whores are all the same. You come here as if we are some cruel, evil overlord, forcing you to do whatever, mind-controlling you," Grandpa continues, seemingly not hearing me.

He pulls out rope from his trunk. It's a yellowish white rope that looks rather soft. It's not the harsh sort of rope that you are used to seeing but rope that looks soft as if it wouldn't leave marks on skin. This worries me greatly.

"You come here, knowing the truth. It's the truth you learned the day you claimed you were raped," he continues, clearly preparing a speech he's said several times. He even makes the double-quote motion at the word "claimed."

Moving back into his doorway, the old man lifts the end of the rope up. When he does, I see the end of the rope has a metal ring woven in it. He lifts that ring upward, where I see a hook on the top of his door frame. This thick hook is on the outside of his frame, pointing out.

"You all cry and sob, telling anyone that will listen how you were raped. That it was the single most horrible memory of your entire life. That you will never recover. Yet you can't help yourself from coming here. Going back to the one that wronged you, begging them to do it one more time. And you know why?" Grandpa continues, getting more passionate as he speaks.

Now that the rope hangs down from the hook, he turns to look at me, wanting an answer. My attention is on the rope, which looks to be at least ten feet long and made of yarn or something similar.

I try not to show any emotion at the rope as I have no clue what it is for. Knowing this evil bastard, it could be for anything. From tying my tits together to choking me. Or if this guy is senile as I fear he may be, he might be setting up a clothesline.

Grandpa then grabs my shoulders and pulls me towards him. He pulls me so we are nearly face to face, where I pull my face back, fearing he might try to kiss me. But he pulls me forward again, showing he is the one in charge by doing it much harder. He does this till I am in the door frame.

"It's because you know you deserved what happened. What he did to you that day, wasn't some pervert getting his rocks off. It was fate. It was a man teaching you your place. He was giving you a lesson, showing you aren't some precious flower to be treated like a princess, but a stupid ugly whore whose only purpose is to get her cunt fucked," Grandpa explains with a great deal of hate.

Hearing this stuns me for some reason. Sure, the fact I am naked and helpless to this old man has a great deal to do with it, but there's more. It's his eyes. They aren't the tired, senile look that so many older people have. His are full of fire and passion. And more than that, he honestly believes what he is saying, which is oddly powerful.

Upon hearing him say this, I admit that this is a thought I've had myself. Of course I know it's not true. Just wild thoughts caused by out-of-control emotions. But being violating as I have been, you think and feel a lot of crazy things that seem to make sense.

"After you are shown your place, you whores come here, claiming to be victims," Grandpa says, his voice softening. He then turns me around, making me face out into the hallway as I still stand under his door frame.

"That's why we do this to whores like yourself. Teach you a lesson about your place in the world. Remind you that you are whores and should be treated as such. There's prey and predators, and you want others to feel sorry for you for being prey," the older man explains.

"

OUCH!

" I cry out as the rope which is under my legs is suddenly yanked up. In a shocking move, it is flung up, where it goes directly between my legs, hard. It slaps against my crotch and stays there, literally making me jump.

"No! Stop! Wait!" I beg, seeing the trouble I am in. The older man must have a pully or another hook in his ceiling as the other end of the rope is going up into the air. As tight as the rope is pressing against me, I know he has some system set up and that he isn't that strong.

"Please!" I beg with all my might as the rope is pressed between my legs and into my pussy lips. It travels behind me and up the crack of my ass as well, giving me something of a weird wedgie. It is by far one of the most painful and embarrassing things I have ever felt in my life. With my hands tied behind me, I can't do a damn thing about it.

"That's why you have to be punished. And punished hard. Especially your cunt. You need to know what you are, and that's a stupid whore meant to be raped. We are predators, allowed to rape and violate you as we see fit. You should be bowing to every single person in this building, telling them you know your place. Until you learn to do that, you will need to be punished," Grandpa tells me, moving to my side to check his work.

With wide eyes and an open mouth I look at him in horror. He's not only set up the rope, but he somehow tied it off as I see both of his hands. The asshole has trapped me like this...in his doorframe. Where anyone can walk by and see me in this helpless, tortuous state.

"Tell me, whore. What are you?" Grandpa then asks me, clearly wanting a certain answer.

"Fuck you, you old dirty bastard," I find myself saying with venom even if that's not what I meant to say. The overwhelming humiliation of what is happening gets to me and the words spill out.

"When I get out of this, I swear I will fuck your old ass up!" I declare, even trying to headbutt the asshole. My humiliation powers me to do this as I can't help but think repeatedly about what would happen if someone, I know saw me like this. My big tits jiggling comically as a rope is wedged in my pussy. It would ruin me. Everyone would find out.

"Thought you were smart enough to know the right answer. Guess not," Grandpa muses with a smile. Calmly he grabs the rope inches from my pussy. There he pulls upward on it, forcing it to press harder against my insides, causing what I feel to double.

"NO! NO! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I whine and beg at once as the rope is pressed even harder into my womanhood. My eyes flutter and my body squirms uncontrollably as the feeling is too intense to handle. In many ways it feels like being electrocuted or something the way it's unbearable.

He doesn't stop, even when I beg and apologize. He keeps on pulling, making the rope press against the most sensitive part of my body. To make it worse he moves the rope to the left and right, causing the rope to press/flick over my clit.

"Say what you are," the old bastard says, refusing to stop. He keeps moving the rope in the same way, pulling it up while moving left and right.

I can't help but whine and moan. It's a horrible, arousing feeling, one that I know could bring me to orgasm if done long enough. And that's something I can't let happen as I'm already flirting with losing it mentally. If I cum from being sexually tortured, I don't think there's a way back.

"I...I...I'm a...I'm a whore. I'm Prey. A weak whore. A whore that deserved to be r-r-raped," I stammer out, desperate for him to stop. At this moment I would say anything he wants. Hell, I would happily put his old cock back in my mouth if it got him to stop.

This proves to be the right answer because he lets go of the rope. When he does, I pant like a dog, my heart pounding from the way that felt. I even bend over a little to try and recover.

"Walk one step forward," Grandpa then orders, disappearing behind me where I can't see.

My mouth opens to say something snarky in response to this order, but I stop myself. He just proved how bad he can make this for me. It's really best to do as he says to get it over with.

I'm not sure why I do it, but I look down at the rope between my legs. When I do, I discover just how much trouble I am really in. The rope has knots in it. Every few inches, there's another knot in the rope. If I move forward or backward, those knots are going to go, well, between my pussy lips. And that's not something I want to experience.

"Tsk tsk. Thought you were learning," the old bastard comments when I don't move. I just can't seem to take my eyes away from my mound and the knot that is two inches away.

"Come on! No!" I whine as he places a metal ring against my mouth as punishment. He presses it against my lips, trying to force it in my mouth. I would struggle or even turn my head, but any movement at all makes the rope press against the inside of my pussy more.

Not having a choice, I whimper and pout as the old bastard puts the metal O ring into my mouth to force it mouth open. This ring, of course, is connected to a gag, which he pulls the straps behind my head to tie off. There I am effectively gagged with a huge ring, making it easy for anyone to shove their cock in my mouth. At least he didn't pull the rope again.

Grandpa then disappears back into his apartment for a moment. I can hear him moving about, through I can't see or work out what he's doing. But after a few moments he reappears, moving beyond my side and in front of me.

"I normally like to ask the whores that come here why they think they were raped. You know, the one attribute that made them stick out and be perfect to be raped. In your case, I think it's pretty easy to see," Grandpa says with a smug smile.

Making an overblown show of it, he looks at my breast and acts as if they are the biggest he's ever seen. He literally stares at them with his mouth open as if not comprehending how they can be that large.

I want to scream at him to not touch me when his old hands grab my tits. There he squeezes them, rubs them and even lifts them so they can drop. He repeats this over and over before settling on running the back of his fingers over my hard nipples.

"Your tits are a giant neon sign that scream 'Rape me because I'm a whore.' They clearly are the sign of what you need and how you are to be treated. And furthermore, I bet you are very protective of them," Grandpa comments as he toys with my breasts.

"I got this speech from your friends already," I say to give him a bit of grief. He only smiles at this, his hands moving into his pockets.

Moving faster than I thought he could, the old bastard pulls something out of his pocket with his right hand. With his left, he grips my left boob. He holds it tight, lifting it up and towards him.

For a moment I think he means to lean over and suck it, which will make me scream. But that's not what he does. Instead he holds my tit and brings his right hand towards it, where I see a nipple clamp. Then before I can react, he puts that nipple clamp on my nipple.

Crying in pain, I feel the clamp bite down, where it feels like someone is biting my nipple. It even makes me stomp my foot, which causes the rope to rub against my insides, making me moan and whine in response. From this I absorb the pain on my nipple the best I can, trying hard not to move.

Full disclosure, I've had nipple clamps put on me before. With tits like mine, it is sort of a given that a lover will want to, well, experiment with my tits. Just like my breasts have been slapped, tied, even had a cock between them. But no other clamps were as fierce as this one. The clamp he's put on me isn't going to come off, no matter how I swing my tits. I bet he could lift my entire boob up from it.

Grandpa then holds up another nipple clamp. I bite into the O ring as he repeats the process to attach it to my right nipple. Doing my best not to move once it is on, I again try to absorb the pain. The crushing feeling of the hard nipple which makes me want to scream.

The pain on my nipples is very intense as I can't touch them to try and soothe the pain. So I close my eyes and try to make the pain dissipate. To tell myself it's not that bad, and that my tits are tough. They can take this and more.

With my eyes closed, I feel Grandpa do something to the O ring. I open my eyes and when I do, I see a small metal chain running down from the gag to both of my nipples. A chain that connects the nipple clamps to the gag. Now if I lift my head up, it'll pull the chain, which will pull the clamps...which will lift my tits.

"Walk forward," Grandpa orders after grabbing a handful of my hair as I look down. He takes a firm grab of my hair at the back of my head, with both of us knowing he can force my head back and make my tits pull up.

Tears flow down my face once again as I know I have no choice. My soul, spirit or whatever you want to call it, shrinks as I admit this but I'm helpless and defeated. There's no hint of the strong, in-control woman that my family thinks I am as I do as the old man wants. Feeling pathetic and stupid, I step forward against the tight rope.

The knot is far worse than I would have thought. It first presses against my clit, sending pulsing energy over me. The knot seems to touch every part of my clit, smushing it cruelly. To make it worse I had to put some force to be able to walk forward as the knot seemed to stop me.