The Game 41

I glance subtly out of the window, watching him watching me. He stands, dressed in black, like the night. So silent, so still, he could be my imagination. I can see him. He’s been watching me for days now, ever since we met at the diner. Even then, I knew he was dangerous. There was something in his eye, something in the tone of his voice. He was a little too aggressive... but I liked it.

I realize that some day, I’ll probably find the one man I can’t handle, and get killed. But that’s all part of the thrill. He’ll follow me, threaten me, and maybe threaten the people around me. Then one night, he’ll break into my place and attack me. Rape me. Then, either he’ll be overcome with guilt or he’ll try to kill me. Blood and sex... pain and pleasure. I’ll make sure it’s good for him, too... before he goes to jail, if I don’t just shoot him first.

The first time I actually got raped, it was for real. Something about it, though... the domination, the humiliation, the pain... it really got me going. He actually tried to use that in court to get away with what he’d done. Rape is rape... and no means no, and it doesn’t matter if I manage to get a little pleasure out of it. There’s only been one other man who went to jail for raping me. The other one... well, he met my gun. I suppose I should feel guilty for messing with their heads, but I figure that if it hadn’t been me, it would have been some other girl. And if that’s the case, then it should be the one who kind of likes it rather than the girl who can’t handle it.

I turn slowly, subtly modeling to wet his appetite. Scarlet silk hugs curves, red lace caresses my thighs. This particular piece of lingerie makes me look perfect, round breasts, long legs, soft hair flowing down like water. I reach down to get a book, bending to show off my tight ass. It’s a little too small, but it’s a perfect shape. I work out enough that it had better be.

Deciding that’s enough, I go to the bed, where I snuggle up to my pillows and try to read the book. My bed is beautiful... perfect, like what I’m wearing. I wonder how many weeks it will be before he breaks in. I stroke my soft velvet pillows as I turn the pages of the book, absently glancing at the words, thinking that my bed is the best setting for a good hard fuck. I move my legs around on my satin sheets, under the down filled comforter. So soft, like a cloud... the world melts away when you get in this bed.

Finally, I feel myself almost doze off, and reach over to turn off the lamp. The ticking of the clock interrupts the silence of the house. I am lulled to sleep by the comfort and silence. And rudely awakened by the hand over my mouth.

“That was

some

show, whore.” The voice is quiet and dangerous. Surprised, I am wide-awake and peering through the darkness. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It never goes this way. There was no warning, or as I consider it... foreplay. This is against the rules! “So foolish... so conniving... did you really think I’d play your little game?” My heart pounds furiously in my throat, everything in me clenches. He

knows!

I feel terror grip me, but simultaneously feel my nipples harden into tight buds. I silently plead with my eyes, grasping at the inner strength I usually rely on.

GET A GRIP!

I tell myself. Funny how you don’t listen to yourself that well when you really need to. His hand presses my head back into the pillow, so strong and rough against my soft lips. I can smell him, a mix of cologne, deodorant, and excitement. I feel a warm tingling in my belly and between my thighs.

Watching me, he slowly takes his hand from my mouth. “What, you want this cock, bitch? Want me to fuck you and beat you so you can call the police and say it was rape? You want my ass in jail, right? You little bitch. You get your kicks this way?” Inside my mind, I cringe. I’m admitting nothing to this man. I glower at him, refusing to respond. His hand comes swiftly down to hit me, and sends stars shooting through my head.

I blink and struggle to get up. I want to fight, this time for my life, rather than kicks. I know he seriously wants to make me suffer for what I’d wanted to do. He hits me again, sending me back down on the bed. Dizzy, I continue trying to get up. “You’re going to get what you want. You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to fuck you, wanted me to come and take what I want. I’m gonna take it. You wanted me to be an animal, make you submit. I’m going to make you submit. Definitely. Your ass is mine. You’re going to pay for what you wanted to put me through. You wanted to get me in jail for acting on my emotions... emotions you were planning on toying with!”

He picks me up and slams me down on the floor, my head hitting the leg of the bed. I hardly notice it when he kicks me. The room is spinning, and I fight to get up. I command my leg to kick him, but nothing is cooperating. I must be in a state of shock. His boot makes contact again, this time with my stomach. Curling to a fetal position, I fight back tears. Never be weak before the enemy. I reach under the bed, hoping to find something to use as a weapon. I find only a soft fuzzy house slipper. By this time, of course, he jumps on me. I feel his weight over my legs. I look up to see him crouched over me.

I cry out in terror and pain as he literally rips my clothes off. The soft satin and lace tears like thin paper in his hands. He flings wispy fabric to the floor, and roughly grabs my breast. Despite myself, I feel it respond, the flesh warm and firm, the nipple hard against his fingers. I moan in pleasure and he angrily presses his fingers deeper, kneading my tit roughly. Continuing his process, he reaches down to tear the panties that barely cover me.

When he makes contact, he finds the material wet, and the movement has caused it to scrunch into a thin cord of fabric between the lips of my pussy. It goes back and into the crack of my ass, disappearing between my cheeks. He pulls the strip of cloth roughly, pulling it farther in the crevice. It presses against the entrance of my vagina and rubs against my swollen clit. His finger plunges into me and a barking laugh comes from his throat. “Oh, yea, I knew you wanted this. You’re so fucking wet.” He shoves his finger into my mouth, and I bite down, trying not to taste my juices on him. With a snarl, he hits me again. He grabs my arms and shakes me, yelling. Spittle flies in my face. “Try that the next time I shove something in your mouth, and I’ll

KILL

you. Do you understand that?!”

At the thought of him shoving something else in my mouth, I feel my pussy get even wetter. It has to be obvious to him; the scent of me suddenly becomes more pungent. I feel his nails bite into the soft skin of my arm and he drags them down my body. His hands slide across my chest, then my belly. His fingers go to my throbbing clit, rubbing it hard. I yelp in pain, though I also feel the excitement building up. I know that whether or not I want to, I’m going to cum tonight. My thighs spread for him of their own accord, and he sneers at me. “Rape, huh? That’s what you want to pretend it is? Your pussy needs it if your mind don’t.”

Just hearing the words issue from his mouth gets my cunt dripping, clenching, hungry to devour his cock. He puts a finger into me, moving it in and out, using his other hand to push me down. His fingers pinch my breast as he probes me. Then I feel another finger move into me... then another. He plunges three fingers deep inside of me, and I cringe away in pain, screaming. A hand comes across my mouth again, and he slaps me. I quiet as quickly as possible, and his fingers start pushing into me again, fucking me hard. They ram deep into the sticky wet tunnel between my thighs. It excites me as much as it hurts me, and for a moment, my hips buck wildly, craving yet more. I look up to see the bored amusement on his face, and remember that this is

rape.

I try to throw him off, fighting both him and myself. He smirks and lays down on me. Softly, I hear him say it against my lips as he lays his body over mine. His hands slide up my sides, over my tits, raises my arms and hands over my head as he says it repeatedly. “Tell me you want it.” I fight to deny it, partly because I really don’t want this anymore, but partly because I’m afraid he’ll stop if I want him to continue.

His teeth nip at my throat, my shoulder, and my breast. Waves of pleasure wash over me, and he begins to bite down harder at my silence. I yelp and struggle to get away, but his teeth clamp around my nipple. They pierce the skin and he sucks the bleeding flesh into his mouth. I struggle for escape and his hand slides back down between my thighs, where I lay exposed by the knee he has planted on the floor. I feel his finger press against my swollen lips, probing in to rub against my slippery clit. As he makes contact, I jerk, my body coming close to a small release. He stops moving and waits for me to calm down before touching me again, his finger sliding deep into me. I feel it building up again, and again, he stops. “Admit that you want it, and I’ll give it to you. Or, we can just do this. What do

you

think?”

With my free arm, I reach out to elbow him, then rake my nails down his face. He jabs his fingers inside of me and against me, and tears spring to my eyes. I howl in pain and try to curl into a ball. I lift part way up, and he slams me back onto the ground. “So, you really, really want me to just take it?” He brings his other knee in between my legs even as I try to squeeze the first one out. As he lifts up to unfasten his jeans, I scramble backward, away from him. He reaches out to catch me, and I kick him in the face. I continue to crawl away from him, turning over to get up as I get out of reach. He fumbles toward me, grabbing my hips and pulling me to him. His pants are halfway down and I can feel the head of his dick bouncing lightly against me as he chases me, both of us slightly hunched over.

I get upright and run only a moment before he does, but his pants slow him down. He stops to strip and I race out of a door towards the front of the house. I fumble with the locks, wondering how on earth he got inside. The chain lock is hard to reach, and as I open the door, he slams it shut. Frustrated, I curse as I spin around kicking. My foot lands solidly into him, but he still manages to grab it as he falls. We both crash to the floor, me on top of him. My head hits the wall. Too dizzy to react quickly, I fail to escape as he grabs my hips, pulling my ass onto his lap. His dick is rock hard, and my gasp is of both fright and arousal.

Grunting, I try to get up, and feel him yank my hair back. He winds it into a rope, twisting it around his hand. He gets up and uses it like a leash, guiding me forcefully to the room again. Small needles of pain shoot through me as he pulls me backward. He jerks me every few steps, keeping me off balance. Finally, he flings me onto the bed, and jumps onto me. With a look of annoyance, he brings his hand down and hits me across the face, then swings it back to hit me again. My head slams into the pillow and lay there silently, trying to get myself together. Once again too stunned to fight, I feel him arrange my legs and position himself between them.

My widespread legs display my hungry pussy to him, pink and glistening. Momentarily, I can feel the dampness on my thighs cool as the air hits it. Then, he is down, his hands gripping my thighs as he lowers himself. The large piece of flesh between his thighs probes lightly against me. My body jerks in response and the walls of my pussy clench in need. Still, I refuse to admit that I want him, that my body craves his violent caress. I make more futile attempts to escape, but am almost mindless with desire. My body is weakened from the fight we’ve already had. I groan inwardly when I feel his finger lift my face to make me look at him. “Open your eyes, bitch. I want you to watch everything I do. If you really don’t want it, I want you to tell me... but I expect that you’ll be begging for it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, and push against him, hoping that somehow he’d be thrown off balance. I was hoping that his insistence of my acquiescence would help me fight him off. Instead, I find him ready for the struggle, and he laughs mockingly as he wraps his fingers around my throat. He begins to squeeze lightly, and I gasp for breath while trying to pry his hand from me. The room starts to fade out, and I curse under my breath, struggling harder. Of course, this only leads him to squeeze a little harder.

I open my eyes to find myself tied to the bed, spread-eagled. He is on top of me, with my nipples in his fingers and his tongue buried in my cunt. So close to release, I pant and twist under him. He looks up, his tongue moving in lazy circles around my clit. “Still going to pretend you don’t want it?” I want to scream at him not to talk, and to get his tongue back to what it had been doing. I simultaneously want to scream at him to get the fuck out of here. I struggle to no avail. He sneers at me, his finger sliding in and out of me. My body tells volumes that my mouth refuses to say.

I hear it noisily slurping at his finger, sucking him in deeper and deeper. Finally, he gets up and crawls over my body. I am upset to find that I am more disappointed than relieved. He hovers over me. “Tell me you want it.” I almost give in, but I know that once I do, the fight will be over.

NO, stupid

. I sternly tell myself.

You don’t WANT him to fuck you! THAT’S why you aren’t saying it

. The struggle not to beg him to fuck the hell out of me must have played across my face. He laughs.

“Oh... I know what you want. You want me to treat you like the whore you are! You think that if you admit you want this, I’m going to start being all nice to you. No, no, no. I want you to hurt for what you wanted to do to me. I just want you to admit that you want me to hurt you as much as I want to do it.” He traces his finger across my skin as he says it. His nail rips into me, leaving a red, puffy trail. He knows me so well. Again, I have to wonder...

how does he know?!

I shiver under his touch and whisper at last. “Yes.” He looks startled.

“What? Did you say “Yes”? You’ll have to speak up. Scream for me, Whore. Let the whole world know what you want from me.”

“Yes! Yes! I want you to fuck me! I want you to hurt me!” I give him what I want, hoping that at last; he’ll give me what I need so badly. Instead, he hesitates, his hand sliding down, caressing my delicate folds.

“And admit to what you were going to do to me!” He yells it angrily. Maybe the anger will fuel him on, make him fight me. I forget that I am tied up at the moment. What could it hurt to just say it?

“Yes! I was going to have you rape me. I was going to tease you and make you insane needing me.”

“Why? Is it because you are a little whore? A whore pretending to be a princess, when what she really needs is to be shoved off some pedestal, and broken? Do you need me to break you, make you my own little whore? Make you my little fuck toy? My little animal?”

“YES!” It bursts from me, the confession of my need to be dominated, my need to be abused, to be broken down and made into a slave. “I need you to make me your little fuck toy! Do anything you want to me, hit me, bite me, cut me... just

fuck

me!”

Immediately, he presses down, his hard cock slipping easily into me, through the dripping juices of my cunt. He slaps me violently. “You bitch! I would have gone to jail because you needed somebody to treat you like the bitch you are! What kind of sick shit is that?!” He rams his dick into me. My pussy welcomes the assault eagerly, and I feel myself about to cum. He continues to fuck me hard, harder, harder... his cock swollen and his eyes stormy. “You wanted to turn me into a rapist? You get your kicks from destroying men’s emotional health?” He bites down on my tit, pinching my other nipple. I scream in painful ecstasy. He then moves his fingers from my nipple to reach down and pinch my clit. “You... are... one... sick... little... whore!” I cry out as he continues to pummel me with his throbbing cock, and my breath comes in short gasps. I feel myself going over the brink.

The orgasm hits me with an intensity I’ve never known. I scream and feel him going with me. He recovers quickly and hits me. “Who told you that you could cum? You don’t deserve to cum. You’re supposed to be making up for all of the shit you wanted to put me through. You don’t even deserve to have this dick in you, don’t deserve for me to touch you to hit you.” He spit in my face. “You didn’t even deserve that!” I writhe beneath him, the verbal and physical abuse bringing me close to another climax.

He finally releases again, huge streams of cum shooting into me. I scream out and let go, cumming with him. After soaring through the stars, I feel myself doze again, and think he might be headed there, too.

I wake to find him gone, and I am untied. I consider calling the police, but what would I say? He didn’t rape me; he actually did wait until I told him I wanted him. Okay, I begged him to take me. I look over by the phone to find a large envelope. I look inside of it and find a video. Now, I’m really nervous. I put it in my VCR and watch the entire course of events from the night before. He let me know that there were several copies of the tape by now. He then told me that unless I wanted to be in serious trouble, that it was time for me to play a

new

game... with

him.

Maybe one day, I’ll find out how he knew.