*Disclaimer - Please do not skip this!*
This story is pure fantasy, and as such includes scenes of graphic non-consensual sex that some readers may find offensive. They are of a stronger nature than many within this category. You have been warned!
Thank you to readers thus far for their feedback...much appreciated.
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'I'm not that kind of girl,' Sarah thought, but she found herself nodding nonetheless.
The big blonde guy beside her at the bar smiled and squeezed her hand in reassurance. "I'd just like to get to know you," he said. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, for the second time that evening. He tasted the same as he had an hour before; spicy, dangerous.
Sarah smoothed her hands over her sweater and swallowed nervously as Matthew stood up from his barstool, towering over her tiny frame. "I'll get your coat," he said, disappearing into the hot, crowded bar, squeezing between couples dancing close to the loud, pounding beat.
Sarah really wasn't this kind of girl, the kind of girl who goes to dark, noisy clubs, kisses strangers, and agrees to "go somewhere a little more quiet" with those strangers. She spent most of her days in the cool, orderly environs of her music library, and while a PhD in music history with an emphasis on baroque instrumentation would hopefully get her a plum research or teaching gig....it didn't get her far with men.
In fact, Sarah had slept with only two men, both long-term boyfriends, good, kind-hearted, loving men. Just last week, after two years, she'd broken it off with Samuel, a reedy, lily-white clarinetist she'd met in the stacks. She was sad, really she was.
But two brief kisses with this beefy new stranger Matthew had made her stomach clench and her panties moisten more than two years of clammy kisses from Samuel. The memory of Samuel's high-pitched cry when he came inside her, immediately followed by "are you okay? was that good for you?" still made Sarah wince.
Sarah was a good girl. She studied hard and braked for small animals and believed in sex with people you loved. But as long as she could remember, late at night under the covers with her fingers playing between her legs, Sarah had fantasied about big, strong, muscular, intimating men, men who pinned her to the bed with their huge hands and took what they wanted and never asked "are you okay?"
So when she showed up to this unfamiliar club for a friend's birthday and spotted Matthew in an adjacent booth, her whole body shivered and clenched and wanted. Just this once. 'Maybe...maybe if he notices me,' Sarah decided. And Matthew had.
And Matthew was here, now, holding her coat out for her like a perfect gentleman. 'Maybe we won't even have sex,' Sarah thought. 'He just wants to get to know me. He seems like an honorable guy.' Sarah shrugged on the soft white peacoat and took Matthew's outstretched hand, following him outside into the sharp fresh air and lightly falling snow.
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Sarah bolted awake and realized she had dozed off in Matthew's little Corolla, lulled to sleep by the warmth of the heaters, Matthew's deep, resonant voice, his gentle caress of her hand with his big fingers, and, truth be told, the few-too-many jack and gingers she'd consumed at that bar. The sudden cessation of movement had startled her awake. "We're here, little bird," Matthew chuckled.
Sarah looked out the window to see, not the apartment building on a busy city street she was expecting, but a dingy, deserted motel, the kind where the door to each room exited onto a long, outdoor walkway, the kind that had a "vacancy" sign blinking. "This is where we're going?" she said, confused.
"Sorry about that," Matthew rumbled. "I haven't been able to stay in my apartment for a week, there were burst pipes. This was the only place my landlord was willing to pay for. It's not so bad."
Sarah experienced a moment of sudden fear. 'What am I DOING,' she thought. 'I don't even know this man. I don't know his last name. I don't know where I am. I'm going into an empty motel in the middle of the night with a perfect stranger. Oh god oh god what was I THINKING...'
Matthew seemed to sense her terror and took her comfortingly into his arms. "Hey now," he murmured, his big hands tucking the top of her head below his chin, then wrapping tight around her tiny waist. "If you don't want to stay, I'll take you home right now, no hard feelings. But I think you and I have something special...this feels so right."
Sarah nodded against the hard plane of his chest, and he took her face in his palms and raised her lips up to his. This kiss was hot, wet, and wanting, and when it ended she found herself up on her tiptoes, her whole body pressed into his. Matthew smiled, released her, and walked across the parking lot to the motel, Sarah scurrying along behind him.
Matthew unlocked a door and let it swing open, ushering Sarah in ahead of him. The room was lit only by a dim nightlight half hidden, so it took her eyes a long moment to adjust, to read the unidentifiable shapes in the room, draped over chairs and lounging on the bed, shapes that rustled and uncurled into huge, unquestionably manly forms. In the time it took her to register that the room was already occupied, Matthew had shut & deadbolted the door, wrapped one arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her side, and clamped over her mouth with one hand. Sarah's involuntary scream was effectively muffled and she heard chuckling reverberating around her throughout the room.
"Took you long enough, Matty boy," said a voice. "We were getting bored." Sarah squirmed and screamed and struggled in Matthew's arms. "But this looks like a good one," said another voice, and Sarah thought, panicking, 'how many are there. HOW MANY ARE THERE?!'"
Now listen closely, little bird," Matthew whispered, his hot breath close by her ear. "I brought you here so my friends and I could have a little fun. And if you are a good little girl, and stay quiet, and do what we ask, we can make this a lot of fun for you too." The hand around her waist slid slowly up and cupped her small breast. His thumb began to rub softly across her nipple, over and over, following the cadence of his words. She felt it through the fabric of her sweater, the fabric of her bra, that thumb rubbing softly back and forth, back and forth. "And if you scream and struggle and fight us, this won't be any fun for you at all. And I think we all deserve a little fun, don't you?" He blew into her ear, then bit her earlobe, gently. "Do you understand me?"
Sarah's heart was skittering madly in her chest. There was no escaping this room. There were four? - five? - innumerable men here to keep her quiet. Agreeing to her own rape, however terrifying, might be her best option. She nodded, haltingly, and Matthew took his hand away from her mouth.
"Let's see what she looks like," one of the men said, and she felt hands suddenly everywhere - lifting away her soft, baby blue sweater, pulling down the waistband of her jeans, tearing away her bra, her panties. It happened so quickly, and she was pushed around and shoved backwards, and within a matter of moments she was lying across a hard, lumpy motel room mattress, naked. The voices around her were approving - of her small, firm tits, of the hard expanse of her belly, of the soft rounding of her hips, of her full, swollen lips, of her tiny, delicate wrists and ankles, even her long, thin blonde hair, which one fellow took a handful of and roughly pulled back to get a better look at her face.
