pancakes (rape erotica)

Am I here because I want to die? Or am I here because I want to live?

I confess, I'm here now, watching him, watching me, as he rubs my feet, because he gave off a vibe. I'm a sick girl. I know what kind of man he is, even as he's rubbing my feet. We're listening to some fucked up "music" of his, the aroma of marijuana freshly burnt on the air. He's a predator. They all are, it's just to what degree. He's looking into my eyes, seeing if I'm enjoying this. He's wearing nothing but a pair of plaid boxer shorts, his long black hair, his very Roman features. This wicked Adonis, this fuck machine. He grinds his thumb into the arch of my foot, with just enough pressure to hold my attention, he has no intention of letting go of my legs. I let my eyes wander over his face, to his neck and chest..his arms, to his hands. I look further, I see his penis, jutting stiffly out of his shorts. I almost laugh, but disguise it as a cough and pretend that I didn't notice, but I can feel the heat rising in my face and know that my cheeks are flushed. I smile politely and clear my throat again. He gives off that.. Indescribable, red flag feeling. He has from the start. He reeks of it. And right now, I'm fairly certain, with my cheeks flushed crimson, that he smells fresh blood.

"Do you like what you see?" He growls, holding my foot, firmly against his cock.

"Do you like this?" He rubs his cock on my foot. I close my eyes and swallow, wondering which direction I should take this. I'm terrified of him, I could go completely green and maybe get out, if he's not too much of a monster, I also consider the possibility that it may make him "less friendly". I decide to remain passive with slight interest. I smile, demurely, my cheeks obliging with fresh color.

"Let's go to my room, it's more comfortable, I have a California king bed."

He pauses, rubbing my foot once more.

"You should stay over, I'll make you pancakes in the morning and we'll lounge in the hot tub in the afternoon. Hmm?"

I feel him looking at me, his dark brown eyes intent on my face. His suggestion about pancakes in the morning seems both absurd and friendly, almost boyish, if his voice didn't have a deep timbre to it. He moves gently from under my legs and stands, holding his hands out for me. I swing my feet off the couch and sit up, looking up at him, my heart roaring in my ears.

"Come with me Sarah, I want to fuck you."

His hard-on throbs twice, his voice taking on a throaty growl. I feel the wetness that had been on the verge of descent, loose a bit, I close my eyes for a second and revel in the feel of the moisture gathering at the opening, welcoming him. I’m a woman, this is what I was made for. I am wanted in such a way, merely for the inversion of my genitals. I am a whore.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes to see he's in the same position, patiently waiting. I take his hands and he hauls me to my feet, faster than I expect, I collide into his arms, he looks down at me and smiles. It’s not the kind of smile that shows any friendliness, it’s a wolf’s grin, all the better to eat me with. I can feel the strength in his lithe body, he isn’t exceptionally bulky, he has that lean strength, the useful muscles, the long ones in the legs, in the back and in the arms, built for endurance, not necessarily show. I could feel every inch of that strength now, from how firmly he held me to him, how easily. The look in his eyes say: what the fuck are you going to do about it. He doesn’t care how I feel about it, he’s going to do it. I could either try and enjoy it or not. I am his whore now.

“It’s very late and I’m pretty tired.” I bite my lower lip and pull back from him a bit.

“You’re sleeping over, we can crash when we’re done.” He pulls me back into him.

This wasn’t a query, it was a statement. My fear escalates another notch. I’m a breath away from terrified. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone and I’m having second thoughts. He’s a monster, he’s a monster, I know what he’s capable of, do I? Do I realize the depths of it? Why am I here? It comes back to that original question, did I come here to die? Or did I come here to live? This cannot be broken down into subcategories and analyzed through use of pros and cons. This is a yes or no question. I either want to live or I want to die. I know the answer to that question. I do not know what to do in the current situation, to achieve my desired outcome.

“May I use your bathroom?”

“Of course, it’s in the Master bedroom.” I’ll show you.

Without another word, he has a vice-like grip on my hand and is all but dragging me in his wake. He turns on the light in the bedroom, leads me through to the bathroom and ushers me inside, flipping on the light and closing the door, but not latching it. I look around, there’s a closed door on the other side of the room, next to the toilet. I walk toward the toilet, flush it and then return to the sink and turn the tap on and make for the opposite door I came in, I take two steps through it and he’s there at the other end of the room.

“You left the tap on.”

I turn and make for the bathroom in a dash, but he’s on me sooner than I can get through the door. His arms around my waist, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes are huge, pupils fully dilated, I’m a feral cat, in the clutches of a Staffordshire terrier. Not completely harmless, but way out of my element. He’s trying to get me down, but I’m not going, I know as soon as I do, I’m done. I’m pulling at his hands, leaving my feet planted, not wanting to give him an inch. He just squeezes me tighter and I feel the air force out of my lungs, I pull my arm forward as far as I can and thrust backward full force and knock him in the chest, he loosens his grip, just enough. I scramble for the door on the opposite side of the room, shoving it open. As soon as I’m through his body hits me from behind and I jerk forward, my hips slamming into the side of the bed, bending me in half, my toes dig into the carpet, he’s on me, pinning me down, breathing heavily in my ear.

“You fucking cunt.” He spits. “You come here at 1 o’clock in the morning, what the fuck did you think was going to happen? You fucking tease.” He grabs both of my wrists with his right hand, I feel my bones grind together, I hold my breath. His left hand goes down my leggings, bypassing the waistband, straight to the crotch, there’s a tear and I’m not wearing panties. “You wear these, special for me?” His fingers dig in through the tear and pinch my labia hard enough to make me cry out. He shudders a little and his breath is shaky when he continues. “I saw that, when I was rubbing your feet, whore.” He stops pinching and pushes his fingers inside of me, running them around my vaginal opening, down to my clitoris, which he flicks and tickles with his fingers, until my hips start to jerk involuntarily. “Not that you need any help getting wet.” He hisses. He continues rubbing my clit with two fingers, up and down, side to side, every few strokes, he pinches me and then uses his nail to flick. My hips start keeping rhythm with his fingers, I start to cry and beg him to stop. I don’t want to get off. “No, please stop.”

“What’s that? You want me to stop?”

He does stop, but he doesn’t move from his position of pinning me down. He pulls his hand away from between my legs, I hear him licking his fingers.

“You taste… so fucking good.” I feel him caress my bottom and then he spanks it, lightly.

“Tell you what, I’m going to eat your pussy. I’m going to get up, undress you and take my time, if you scream or fight me, I’m going to rip every single piercing you have on your body, out, with pliers, got it?”

I can’t respond, I sob into the blanket. He spanks my ass, hard.

“Got it?”

“Yes.” It’s the thinnest, tiniest voice, not my own, it’s a scared little girl at the back of a tool shed.

He starts to laugh. “What was that sweetheart?”

I take a deep breath. “I understand.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He shifts his weight off of me and walks to the dresser near the foot of the bed, my eyes follow him, I can’t move, I don’t dare. The threat just keeps replaying in my head, I see his lips moving now, but I don’t hear what he’s saying, I just hear the roaring of my heart in my ears. I feel his eyes, devouring each inch of me from my terrified eyes to my toes, that are painfully digging into the carpet of this well-lit dungeon. He pulls out the top drawer, reaches in to remove a pair of eight inch dyke pliers, the heavy kind, with the cutter on the inside. I stop breathing. What the fuck am I missing?

“What are you saying? I c-can’t hear what you’re saying!!” My voice stutters, then cracks, I take a deep ragged breath and stand up.
“Please… don’t hurt me, I will do whatever you say, just don’t fucking hurt me, please. I can’t hear you!!” I’m forcing the words out.

He sets the pliers on the dresser and strides over to me, gently taking me by the shoulders, he shakes me twice, then slaps me across the face.

“You’re in shock.” He smiles. “Have you been a victim before?”

Another tear rolls down my cheek, he leans forward and licks it away.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

I don’t fight him, I lift my arms as he takes my shirt off over my head. He tosses it on the floor and looks me over, takes a breast in each hand, weighing them, rubbing my nipples with his thumbs.

“I like your breasts.” he leans in and licks and nibbles the right, I gasp involuntarily, he pinches the left hard, to actuate the same response. I push the air out of my lungs and shakily take another breath. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my leggings, my nipple sucked deep into his mouth, I barely notice that I’m completely nude, he angles my back toward the bed and shoves me onto it, a popping noise escapes his lips, along with my nipple. It’s throbbing and covered in his spittle, I feel it trickle down my breast as I land on the bed with a bounce. He’s standing between my knees, looking down at me, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and pushes my knees up and apart and crawls up and between my legs. I close my eyes, I’m going to pretend he’s someone else. I’m going to try and enjoy it. I’m fucked either way. I feel his breath on my thighs, I think of Shaun, I think of our night in San Francisco, I think about how Sex ist ein Schlacht - Liebe ist Krieg… I think about how much I fought to be with him, how much I gave up, how much I loved him. How much I love him still, this man, between my legs right now, is Shaun, because I want him to be. My body feels warm. I feel him spread me open, stretched, exposed, he blows on my cunt, lightly, then leans in and his breath is changed from cool to warm, his tongue touches my clit, cool, then his lips, warm… he kisses my clit, sucks it lightly, then pulls it into his mouth with more suction and nibbles it with his front teeth, I shriek with pleasure. He begins to lap at me, like an animal, thirsty and drinking, he licks me, tasting, from my clit, down to my anus, slowing at each orifice to kiss and tongue and lick for full minutes, he starts working his way back up, lapping and sucking and nibbling, god he’s good. He’s so fucking good and I’m telling him how fucking good he is at this, my voice hoarse, tense with wanting, breaking with urgency.
He reaches my clit and begins his dance of lapping and sucking, building up the movements and then slowing them down to almost nothing. Unpredictable in pressure, but a steady rhythm, my hips jerking up and down in response to every movement. The tightening begins, my uterus is constricting, tightening to such a degree it feels like I have a charlie horse in my lower gut. As soon as it reaches an unbearable level of pain/pleasure, it releases in a rushed wave of complete bliss, I know that I’ve drenched his chin and neck, I hear him say “holy fuck.” and laugh a bit. My spell is broken, he’s up between my legs now, I feel his cock prodding at me.

“Open your eyes. I want to see you look at me when I fuck you.” I grabs me by the lower jaw and pulls my head straight. “I won’t count to three like daddy, I’ll beat the fuck out of you if you don’t open your eyes.” I oblige, there he is, his black hair falling into my face, his brown eyes staring into my green ones. He’s no longer my fair lover, but my dark one. I don’t take my eyes away from his, I don’t blink, I feel his cock push into me, unyielding and massive. He gasps in my face. “Fuck you’re tight and sweet.” His eyes settle at half mast, his face relaxing, he slowly fucks me deep, savoring it. I feel his cock touching my cervix and I try to open myself to him, will my innards to be flexible. He starts to fuck me faster, not as deep, going for speed, I keep watching his face. “Wrap your legs around me.” he grunts as he props himself up on one arm and grabs me under the knee. I oblige, locking my ankles around his waist. “Good.” he bends forward and bites my nipple, full teeth and pulls his head up, still holding it, my mouth is open and seconds later I cry out. He drops my nipple and slaps me across the face. “You like it rough, don’t you.” he fucks me hard again, I start to tense my vagina, trying to push him out of me or make him come, anything to make it stop. He stops and pulls out, pushes me to my left side and grabs my right leg, holding it up straight and re-enters, I can’t squeeze him as easily at this angle. He gets going again and the tears start to stream down my face, I stare at the dresser, the pliers and I swallow hard, my hands clenching onto the sheets. I try to shut out what’s happening, I try to will my cunt to go numb. He throws my leg down, flips me onto my stomach and grabs me by the hips, urging me onto my knees, he shoves his fingers inside of me and then smears my wetness onto my anus and shoves his finger inside, I gasp and whimper at the idea of having him in my ass. He knows it, he bends forward and bites my left cheek and pinches my inner thigh with his free hand, he pulls his finger out of my ass and presses his cock against the opening, I hold my breath. He rubs himself against me, presses, presses and then shoves his cock back in my cunt and fucks me harder than he had before, his fingers digging into the flesh on my hips. Giving me something to remember him by, other than the effort he’s putting in to ruin every sexual position for me. He’s relentless in rhythm and force, each thrust shaking me deep, hammering at my well-being, trying to invade me on every level possible. Each position he puts me in is passive, I merely have to hold myself up, he doesn’t expect me to do anything else, just hold position, he’s fucking me, he doesn’t want me to fuck him. He doesn’t want me to enjoy it. I hear him inhale sharply and he pulls out. I can feel myself shaking. He puts his hand on my ass, pats it rather gently and tells me to turn around. I gingerly lower myself onto the bed and turn to face him. He stares at me, smiling, then looks down at his cock. I look as well, it’s streaked with blood, I let out a sob, I’m sore, but my traitor’s cunt is pulsing with the beat of my heart.

“I want you on top.” he says matter-of-factly.

“I don’t think I can.” I sob. “I don’t think I can do it.” my tears are flowing freely now, I feel like he’s fucked the strength out of me, my muscles feel weak and shaky, my head is swimming. I bring my hands up to cover my face and I see a heavy tremor in them. I try and hide within my limbs, drawing my legs up in slow motion. He’s pulling at me now, jerking me forward, pulling me to him, he wrenches my arms away from my face and gets the upper half of my body on top of him, he hooks his right leg under my left, spreading my legs open at the same time, he’s maneuvering himself under me. Within thirty seconds, he has me in the position he wants me in and is entering me again. I’m a crumpled mass on top of him, he slaps me hard across the face and pulls me up where he wants me, bent forward, my face in his, I can smell myself on his face, on his breath, absolutely no chance of resuscitating the memory of… I cannot think beyond this, the brown eyed devil, I cannot look away, he has me locked in, his hands - vices on my arms, locked at the elbow, preventing me from collapsing, holding me forward, fucking me from underneath, punishing me, destroying me. Just when I thought I could bear no more, I feel it, the clutching of my vaginal canal, he feels it too, he keeps pace, my uterus complies contracting in little butterfly spasms, as I come, so does he. He closes his eyes as he does, I feel his warm seed spread through me and with his last few strokes, leak out again. I convulse and dry heave. He tosses me aside. “If you’re going to vomit, do it in the bathroom.” I scramble for the toilet and retch for all I’m worth, but nothing comes up, I’m leaking down my leg, I touch myself and examine my hand, come mixed with blood spots, I squeeze my pelvic muscles and I feel more ooze out of me. I don’t attempt to clean myself up, I just rest my head on the toilet bowl, close my eyes and concentrate on breathing. When I open them a minute later, he’s standing over me, his hand held out for me. I close my eyes again, but he grabs me by the hair and pulls, I yelp and he releases and holds out his hand again, offering the clear alternative. I take it and he hauls me off the floor and ushers me back to his bed, the lights are out now, he pushes me down onto it and lays down behind me, pulling blankets over us, he’s spooning me now, his arms wrapped around my waist, his breath on my neck. I’m shivering.

“Please, I just want to go home, I want to sleep.” I try not to sniffle, I try not to beg.

“Oh, you’re staying the night, I’m fixing you pancakes in the morning.” he grunts as he squeezes me tight and nuzzles the back of my neck.

I stare straight ahead, sick to my stomach. A tender and intimate invasion. I want to cry, but I want him to sleep more than I need to cry. Slowly, minutes tick by, I feel his arms slacken, I shift, I test, he grips me again, not as tightly.

After forty five minutes, he rolls over and begins to snore. I’ve watched the red LED clock on the night stand. I slowly ease forward, trying to displace my weight evenly, another five minutes and I’m at the edge of the bed. I lower myself onto the floor and slowly stand up, my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. I walk to the other side of the bed, each footstep coinciding with his heavy breathing, I crouch down and gather up my clothes and slowly and silently walk through the door into the living room, a cat that I didn’t notice before begins to twirl itself around my naked legs, I smack it with my pants, it skitters off. I gather my keys and wallet from the coffee table and am out the front door, standing on his porch, the porch light illuminating my nakedness, clothes and flip flops in hand. I hiccup and cry, as I bend to pull my pants on and slip into my flip flops, I’m down the stairs, pulling my shirt over my head, I’m rushing forward to my car.
Freedom.
I want to live.

Sex ist ein Schlacht - Liebe ist Krieg (erotica)

i met up with you there. after years of not seeing you, when you left me on an august morning. we tried and failed and tried again. for contact of some form. for friendship. i always wanted you, completely. nothing more, nothing less. simple. it was a pure act of childish hope that led me to drive those 520 miles.. that 7 hour trip, that should have taken 9. you had talked with me on the phone, the night before and the night before that. you'd made a point of it, in fact. to call me. to tell me you were in our city. not flaunting.. merely remembering what we shared at that place, at that time. we burned for one another. we burned so bright and so hot that we burnt up. but that was then, this is now. i'm here, in my rented room. waiting for that third call. the call you're going to make to me. the call you think you're making to another state. i have cleansed my road weariness. now i want to cleanse the hurt from my soul. the phone rings and i wait three before i answer.

"hello?"
"hey you."
"hi yourself"
"how was your day?" that simple question set me back 3 years.
"my day was terrible, i'd love to see you."
"i wish."
"well, i'm staying at the Hyatt on Embarcadero" nothing but silence for nearly a minute "hello?"
"i'm here.... you're here."
"yes"
"give me 20 minutes."

i tidied up the room, setting the CD i brought for you on the dresser, a shared favorite. the minutes seem to drag and fly at once. my perception is skewed. i brush my teeth once more and smooth my hair. taking deep breaths to steady shattered nerves and highly strung emotion. i hear a knock on the door, i use the peep hole, because i'm paranoid and because i want to see you, not seeing me. i want to see you waiting for me. i want to see if you still want me. i close my hand around the knob as i study you. just moments, just moments i plan to steal away and keep for my own self. you're there. freshly shaven, my memory searches for the smell of you. your cologne, your musk, your scent. i close my eyes for the briefest of moments, inhale and open the door. when i open them again, you're staring at me. not smiling, just staring. taking me in. devouring me, like you used to do. you always called me beautiful, that was your word for me. and i always loved hearing you say that or saying my name. your voice became warm and quiet when you used my name in affection.

"my god, you haven't changed a day sarah. you're still as.. you haven't changed a damn day."

"good to see you too."

i walk forward, as you do. we embrace in the doorway. lingering too long to be friendly. your hand pressed to the back of my head, holding it to your shoulder. you always knew how to hold me, to make me feel all right with the world, to let me know that i was safe. i recall just as many moments when that hand was there, gripping my hair. i feel your face lean into my neck and feel your breath there. inhaling me, not modestly, not shyly. you never did need excuses for yourself.

"you haven't changed a day beautiful."

i melt into your arms a bit. the past hurt and abandonment slipping away. as if we had never parted. as if you'd stayed that august morning, 3 years ago. i let myself surrender to it. surrendering always felt right with you. you feel my consent, from years of knowing. you kiss me lightly on the neck, to my ear, taking one lobe gently between your teeth, you squeeze so lightly, then release.

"i've missed you my good girl" you whisper.

i try to pull away, but your arm around my waist says otherwise. i settle in for looking into your eyes, nearly a mirror of my own, defiantly. you bend forward and passionately kiss me. your hand entwining in my hair. sharply angling my head to you. letting me know you could force submission, if needed. when at last you take a breath. you pull back, your hand still clutched at the back of my head, your eyes searching mine, not for answers, not for permission or for understanding.. more of a probing into my soul, into the depths of me. to drive the fact home that i would always be yours. i did not close my eyes.

"lovely fields of green, with a golden flower in the center. the petals so soft and delicious to look at. i remember pink petals too, those were just plain delicious.. and that delightful pearl.." you smile at this, such a disarming smile. i realize that i have been holding my breath and let it out in a soft sigh. "Mmmmm.. and those sighs and moans.." you slowly release your grasp on my hair and slide your hand, slowly around my neck, to my throat, pausing there.. then traveling along to the top of my bosom around the gentle slope, cupping from beneath, weighing, then rubbing your thumb over my already erect nipple. your eyes, never leaving mine. you pinch it lightly and your hand runs down my front, to the waist of my jeans, your thumb deftly flicks open the button and i feel the zipper give way as well, the denim pools around my ankles. your hand slides so easily down the front of my cotton panties. i feel the wetness arrive between my labia, before your hand can reach that cleft. my body remembers this very well. you stop short and lead me over to the bed. you lay down then and look at me, standing at the foot, you pat your chest in invitation. i oblidge, crawling from the foot of the bed up to you, where i curl up beside you, my head on your chest, your arms, comforting, wrap effortlessly around me, as if they were made for it. you let out a sigh of your own. we lay for minutes. i toy with your belt.. running my index finger along the buckle, remembering all the things you were capable of doing with a belt. as if you could read my thought, your hand rested on top of my own, stroking the top. then you moved from under me, to over me. pushing me easily back onto the pillows. kissing my face and lips. so easily everything came back. you pull my shirt and bra off and rip my panties from my body. almost frenzied, but under a graceful control, as if you are a harnessed stallion. your breathing becomes ragged as my own. i'm nearly shuddering with anticipation. i eagerly pull at your shirt. wanting everything between our skin to be gone. hungry for that closeness, that severe bond. you free yourself from your slacks in one fluid movement and are back at my lips, your hard cock pressing against my thigh. you spread my legs and thrust into me, entering immediately, no coaxing or teasing, just the sheer need of contact. you thrust fiercly a dozen times, my breath coming as fast as your strokes, you pull out and rub the tip of your cock on my clit and down to my ass, spreading my moisture around like butter on toast. you kiss my throat and breasts, biting one nipple, then the other. kiss my stomach, above my navel. you kiss my thigh, then bite it, then suck, leaving a light mark. then you dive into my pussy. hungry for it. licking, sucking and nibbling my clit and labia in turn. your hands spreading me open. owning, devouring you pump two fingers inside of me, while flicking my clit with your tongue. i feel my orgasm rising in me like a tidal wave, slowly pulling back and tightening, waiting for it's moment to rush forward and crush me. just as the wave headed for the beach, you remove your fingers from my pussy and firmly insert them in my anus, pushing me over the edge and shattering my being for full moments. you carefully reconstruct me. by removing your hands and running them up my sides, with your body, between my legs again, you enter me before i can stop shaking. each thrust strong and slow and purposeful your eyes searching my face for the meaning to life. this is when you are your most vulnerable. when you build your own and i clench and release with each thrust, helping you build your own fire. i feel each thrust rock me to my core, each connection, each release, only to connect again and release again. i see your eyes glaze over as you get closer and closer to your destination. your lips part, a breath escapes in a beautiful ragged sigh and i feel your seed spurt into me, that quiver of completion.

you thrust once again and then remain inside of me. your eyes return to focus, you rejoin the world. you fall to my left onto the bed onto your side, your head propped on your hand. i feel you staring at me.

i turn to look at you, but you left me on an august morning.

star stuff (erotica)

I came for you. You're the reason. Seduction is an art and you my love are it's master as well, you compose conduct and orchestrate the entire event and remain in my head still. Your strong will.. Your capable hands.. Your gentle voice,, your filthy mind.. I love you. Your ways.. Your dreams.. Your deviations. You completely you. I hadn't realized that until just now. You mean the world to me.

"You know why we love bloody little cunts don't you darling?"

"Hmmm?" I was lost in the wonders of the pearl.. Light-headed

"Answer me..." A nipple was squeezed and then flicked hard with a fingernail.

"Mmmmmm...."

A cunt was worked over.. Strong fingers pressing and pinching,,,, stroking... Flicking... Then pressing again...

"You are so much more than the pearl.. Little sweet bloody cunt...tell me.. Why do we love bloody little cunts?" The fingers resumed the tickling pleasures of the pearl...

"We love bloody little cunts because they're ripe." He hissed in my ear... "Say it!"

"Mmmmm riiiiiiiipe... Uhm.."

"The whole thing darling.." His voice purred... Tickling my ears the way his fingers tickled my cunt.

"We love" I gasped. "We loooove bloo-blood eee cu cunnnnts because" pant pant "they're riiiiiipe.. Mmmmmmm... Shhh.."

I explode into a million pieces.. soft pieces... That can't be glued together.. But must be molded. And formed like a star. We're all star pieces anyway.. Everything in me comes out for a minute fracture of time. I merge with the flow of the planet. My fluid is hot as it seeps through me. Spilling out and over. You revel in the beauty you have created in this one moment of chaos. I'm spinning for you.