My First Day At The Rape Zone Cafe [Script Offer] [Prompt Fill] [Narrative] [Rape] [Fsub] [Non-con] [Free Use] [Free Use Society] [Dystopia] [Blowjob] [Standing Sex] [Violence] [Humiliation] [Degradation] mention of [Anal]
This script was originally written for 77Dogday's prompt The Rape Zone and is credited and shared here with permission.
All characters depicted here are 18+. This is a work of fiction and contains depictions of sexual content, violence and alcohol. Reader discretion advised.
Remember, art does not need to feature morally pure characters only. Art does not necessarily represent the creator's secret desires.
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I should have known that it was too good to be true, but I was desperate.
My old life held nothing but pain and bad memories and this seemed like the golden ticket out of misery.
A job, starting immediately with a very generous paycheck for a barista. A small flat just a few blocks away, for a very reasonable monthly rent. A new town, where a fresh start was waiting for me.
Something that was mine only, that my abusive ex and my unhelpful family would never have any influence on.
So you see, I didn't have the luxury to wonder what the downsides must be when I filled out the necessary forms in a frenzy, clicking "Accept" on the terms and conditions after a quick skim of the text.
A little too quick, in hindsight.
When I woke up the next day to my approved applications, I packed a small suitcase and left without a word, the bus to my new town surprisingly empty for this time of the year.
When I arrived, Celebration Park seemed abuzz with a kind of nervous energy, but I told myself it was just me, jumping headfirst into an everything-new situation.
After some searching, I managed to find the apartment block in the heart of the park, where the streets were full of U-Hauls, while trash bags and old furniture lay scattered on the curbs.
Perfect - I thought to myself, as my flat was completely devoid of anything that wasn't bolted down. I dragged a mattress inside and the upstairs neighbors were kind enough to give me their couch when they left. A table, chairs and an entire fridge full of groceries were gifted by a group of college aged girls, with a mix of pity and horror on their faces, though I didn't realize it until much later.
I have no idea how long I laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling and listening to the hustle outside. All I know is that the shadows grew long by the time I got up, the voices on the street quieter, and the realization that I was **alone**, perhaps for the first time in my life, creeped in.
Ignoring the myriad of notifications that somehow found their way to my phone despite being from blocked contacts, I got dressed the next morning, and headed down to the edge of the Park where the cafe was already open, but... rather empty.
I should have thought about why, but I still didn't.
The owner ushered me in her office, her eyes frantically darting between the door and me. She put a stack of papers in front of me - my contract and some legal stuff, she said - to sign, and asked how my move to the city was.
I told her with a bright smile that it was just fine, and that there were so many kind strangers helping me to get a start on my new life here. Her smile was unsure, her words hurried when she asked if I was aware of the changes the city will enact tomorrow. I confessed that I didn't have time to catch up just yet, but I was going to read through the newspapers that were left from the previous tenants.
She nodded, then sent me home to enjoy the last day of freedom, as she put it. She could take care of the day herself, it seemed to be a slow one.
Funny, I thought. My freedom had really just started, and it seemed to be a good day already. 80% off on lunch, a free dresser from people moving out. The lady across from me in the building - who must have been in her late 70's - gave me her entire linen closet when her son came to pick her up.
I spent the day wandering around the park and trying to make friends, but everyone seemed to be too busy to stop for a chat. Only in the alleys and bars were there people... no, men... grouped together. Laughing. Looking. Lurking.
I shook off the creeping unease that they gave me and instead focused on collecting things from the street. By the looks of it, it must have been time for the quarterly junk cleaning, when people were encouraged to put out their whole and still functioning items instead of trashing them. Giving new life to things others didn't want, or appreciate.
When evening rolled around, my apartment looked all cozy and inviting. I gave thanks to all those kind souls whose belongings filled my small apartment with a soul and character, and I went to bed all hopeful for the next morning.
The faint red LEDs of the old clock radio blinked to 1:12 am when my keys rattled in the front door, jolting me awake. I quietly reached for my phone on the nightstand, but fear spread its icy fingers around my throat when I realized that I plugged its charger into the wrong outlet, the screen black and unresponsive.
Luckily whoever tried their luck has given up quickly and their receding footsteps echoed the slowing of my heartbeat. I tried falling asleep after that, but barking dogs and distant shouts kept the dreams away.
The next morning I got dressed in my new work outfit and after some nervous hesitation, I left early to walk to the café.
The streets were... eerily empty. Empty of women. The men were walking around as if they owned the place, and it didn't take long before someone started to follow me. I tried to hurry up, but in my frenzy I rounded the wrong corner and found myself facing a tall brick wall of a blind alley.
I didn't have time to turn or even think before a filthy hand covered my mouth, the smell of old cigarettes and piss penetrating my nostrils.
"Don't even bother with screaming." The man growled in my ear, his other hand pulling my black button down from my skirt, his digits digging into my flesh.
"You're a brave one, little girl. Or are you just plain stupid?" He asked without caring for an answer, as he pushed me against the building. "We'll find that out soon enough."
