Story

She came to sometime later to find herself in a bed not her own. Glancing around in confusion, she struggled to remember how she could have arrived here, and what she was doing in someone else's bed. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, only to find that her wrist was tied, secured to the bedpost. Awareness hit her like a slap in the face, and Shelley gasped as she remembered the burgulry and the kidnapping. A shudder went through her and she fought to supress a sob of despair. Here she was, alone, tied up and helpless, at the mercy of some crazed unknown man, who probably meant to rape and kill her! Panic seized her in a death grip and held on tight. Shelley's breaths came hard and fast, and her heartbeat banged in her chest with the rat-tat-tat-tat of machine gun fire. Just when she thought she would lose herself to the terror, she seemed to hear her loving husband's voice in her mind. It's all right, Shelley. Don't be afraid. Everything will be okay. No one will ever hurt you while I'm alive, I promise you that. Just relax and stay calm. I will find you and rescue you. Just believe in me.

The voice seemed to soothe her, and gradually Shelley's rapid breathing slowed a bit, her heart rate calming somewhat. She was still terrified, but she knew that somehow in some way, her husband would save her. He had always protected her and guarded her, he was always able to make things better when she was sad or afraid, or hurt. His tender words and his strong but gentle touch always soothed her, always made everything better. He had said NOTHING bad would ever happen to her, and she had to trust him.

"I see you're awake," the masked man said blithely, leaning against the doorpost. Shelley froze, her eyes pinned underneath his dark penetrating gaze. This unknown man frightened her more than anything she had ever faced before--- spiders, snakes, doctors with long sharp needles, NOTHING scared her more than the person glaring down at her right now. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he sneered, walking over to her position. Shelley began to shudder again, but the voice of her loving husband sounded inside her head again, calming her. The man looked surprised as she visibly calmed herself before his eyes. "A brave one too. I see I don't scare you very much, huh?"

Shelley closed her eyes, gulping at the lump in her throat as she spoke. "Y-yes. You DO scare me, sir," she said softly. "Will you let me go? Please? I promise not to say or do anything. Just let me go, and I promise I'll never tell a soul what happened."

The man laughed again. "Are you fucking stupid or something? Do you think I went through all the trouble to get you here alone, naked, and helpless, just to let you go? Oh no, baby. I plan on having some fun with you first."

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he's gonna rape me! she thought desperately to herself. I've gotta get the hell out of here somehow! Damn, where the fuck is my husband when I need him!?! She struggled anew against her bonds, but it was useless. She was tied down tightly. The man watched her for a moment before reaching back behind his back to take out something from his pocket.

He held up a long, glittering, razor-sharp knife.

Shelley nearly lost it when she saw the blade held inches before her face, and closed her eyes, letting tears of panic and dread flow freely down her face. She prayed quickly and silently for deliverance from this nightmare, and once again help came in the form of her husband's voice in her mind, speaking words of reassurance and comfort, telling her to belive that everything would be alright, to not give in to the fear and panic. Like a soothing balm being applied to a raw open wound, the words again calmed her fears, steadying her resolve, and with only a slight hesitation, she opened her eyes to meet her fate head-on.

The masked man was gone.

No, not gone. Looking down at the foot of the bed, she spotted him kneeling down there, sliding up the covers and removing her pumps. He then moved swiftly upwards, to her waist, and brandishing the knife again, he slashed the material of her pants, cutting them, and removing the ruined fabric, baring her shapely well-toned legs. Her panties were the next thing to go; she rarely wore them anyway, as her loving man preferred to have an unobstructed pathway to her pleasure whenever he was in the mood, but somehow she felt like slipping into a pair of black silk panties this morning. As the fashionable lingerie hit the floor in tatters, she silently cursed her initative, as well as the man responsible for her current condition.

"Mmmm," the man said softly, gesturing at her bare, shaven crotch. "Looks like your honey pot is simmering a bit. Could it be that you are getting off on all of this? I bet if I were to slide inside you right now, I'd slip in real easy with all that hot pussy juice coating the way." He made as if to grab at her, and instinctly, Shelley pulled away, closing her legs as much as the bonds allowed. The man chuckled deeply. "Still got some spunk left in you huh? Good. I got plenty of 'SPUNK' left in me as well, and I'm going to enjoy emptying it into that hot wet pussy of yours!"

Shelley bit her lip, tears continuing to fall at the man's harsh words. Shame and embarrassment filled her to her very core, but for all of her fear and loathing of the man dominating her, she couldn't deny that she was becoming very aroused. Long ago she had recognized that she was a submissive at heart, and her then-boyfriend Jonothan had helped her to realize that side of herself and bring it fully into fruition. He became her Master, and later on, her husband, and he delighted in caring for her with a firm, dominant, but loving hand, and she blossomed under his strict, dominant, guiding hand. They had shared many of their fantasies over the years, including one of Shelley's most powerful ones, rape fantasies, where he pretended to be a stranger, capturing her and having his way with her against her will. How ironic it was that she now found herself in such a position, helpless at the hands of a stranger. Still, the dominance of the man, and the situation, while frightening, struck a chord deep within her, and against her well, she felt her clit begin to throb, and her thighs become slick with her dripping juices.

The masked man had removed her blouse and was cutting off her bra, freeing her large luscious breasts. He drew back a bit, whistling as he took in the view. "Oh, yeah, that is just perfect. I am going to enjoy this so fucking much!" He slid a leather gloved hand across her bared breast, gently tickling the nipple with his finger. Any response Shelley planned to make stuck in her throat as sensations of pleasure coursed from her nipple up into her brain, dazing her slightly, before settling down below into her loins. The man stroked her other nipple lightly, and this time, Shelley let out a soft moan. He grinned down at her sardonically.

"Looks like I was right after all. You ARE getting off on all this, aren't you? You're turned on by the thought of a total stranger raping you, fucking you senseless, having his way with you, then discarding you like some slut on the street!" He leered down at her, his mouth inches from her face, blowing his hot breath towards her. She tried to shake her head in denial, but he reached out, grabbing her chin painfully, and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "Don't LIE to me, bitch!" he snarled. "I can cut you six ways from Sunday if I want! I can make you hurt before or after I rape you and get what I want from you, so don't fucking mess with me! I asked you a question. Does the thought of me fucking you turn you on, yes or no!" Shuddering, fearful once again, she nodded, tears streaming down her face endlessly, a sob coming from between her red lips. The man smiled, releasing her chin. "That's more like it. I knew you wanted me. Well, I intend to oblige you. Spread your legs for me, slut. You're going to help me rape you."

Shelley lay there paralyzed for a moment. There was no way she was going to aid him in her own rape. Yet, she feared for her life. A soft voice whispered in her head that is she just gave him what he wanted, if she closed her eyes and blocked it all out and let him fuck her, he would let her go, and she would never have to endure this again. As the seconds ticked by, she felt more and more sure that this wild idea was her best chance of surviving this, and when the man frowned at her and snarled, "Well?" she obediently spread her legs, and closed her eyes.

The feeling was... incredible. It was like in her fantasies, only more potent, more real. She was terribly frightened, but the fear made the pleasure sensations even stronger, and she felt her body begin to respond to the man dominating her. She tried to block it all out, to ignore the unfamiliar scents and sensations of the stranger stradling her, and instead concentrate only on the feeling between her legs. In her mind's eye, she picture this same scene only with her loving Master there instead, taking her, brutally fucking her spread-eagled, tightly bound body. The thought of her Master taking her this way increased her pleasure, and she let out a deep moan. The man grunted, obviously enjoying himself. Shelley felt a hand caress her breasts. He had removed his gloves. The man's slender strong fingers teased and caressed her mounds, squishing them, then squeezing them roughly, making her start, then abruptly resuming his gentler teasing ministrations.

Shelley soon began to bit her lip, trying to fight the overwhelming pleasure building up within her. She was nearing a climax, the likes of which she had never felt before. Only her husband and Master, Jon, had made her feel this way before, and part of her felt a deep shame that a stranger was able to take her to such heights so easily. Suddenly, she knew she had to fight it, she had to resist him, she had to fight the sensations, and fight HIM with all her strength. He was about to make her cum. something only her Master could now do. If she lost control to him, if she climaxed ridingn his cock, she knew, somehow, that he would own her. Struggling again in her bonds, she began fighting desperately, trying to push him off, trying to hold out against his relentless pumping, shouting, screaming her denial of submission to this stranger.

"N-n-n-no! You can't make me!" she screamed, bucking wildly to push him off. "I won't cum for you! No.. NO! Stop it! Somebody, help me! Help me! Please!! Fuck, get the hell off me! Stop it you fucking bastard! GET the FUCK OFF MEEEEE!!!" Unfortunately, he was much stronger and heavier than she, and all her bucking did was force him deeper and harder into her twat, rocketing her closer to a sizzling release even faster than before. Undaunted, the man leaned forward, whispering softly into her ear.

"You can't fight me, girl," he said, his breath ragged. "You can't resist me. I own your sweet little body, and I own YOU. I'm going to kiss you now, and I want you to look deep into my eyes when I do. And you're going to cum harder and stronger than you've ever cum before in your whole fucking life!" With that, he pulled her face up to his and raped her mouth, forcing her lips apart and snaking his tongue deep inside her mouth. Shelley's eyes snapped open, and gazed deep into the man's eyes. Into his face.

Into the face of her loving husband, Jonothan.

Shelley cried out then, orgasming, arching her back painfully as everything faded from view, everything but the image of her treacherous, devious husband, her strong, dominant, controlling Master, the black dressed man, her captor, her lover, her savior, and her torturer, all rolled into one. The sensations overwhelmed her and she shuddered uncontrollibly for several minutes as orgasm after orgasm ran through her body. I held her gently in my arms, caressing her face, kissing her again, but gently this time, lovingly. Unable to hold on much longer, I pumped away inside her until I felt her clench tight in orgasm again, then I joined her, shooting my load deep inside her hot wet slit. Gasping for breath, I held her as we both drifted slowly back down to earth.

Once she got her breath back, and regained her senses, she looked at me. I saw anger and accusation in her eyes, as well as confusion, and fear, but also gratitude and reassurance. Taking a deep breath, I began to explain.

"It was me all along, Shelley," I said softly, holding a hand over her mouth for a second. "Shhh. Just let me finish please. Then I'll untie you and you can gladly beat me within an inch of my life." She stopped struggling then, but her eyes still blazed her anger and desire to throttle me. I merely smirked back at her. "I will admit, I went way beyond what we usualy do as play time tonight. I scared you senseless, I know, and taking you by surprise this way is one of the things we agreed on from the beginning NOT to do in our role play. But, by the same token, we aldo agreed that as your Master, I have complete control over you, my love. COMPLETE control. On the one hand, you set guides and limits on what we can do together. On the other hand, however, you are always pushing me to take your submission to the limits, to 'push the envelope', so to speak. Well, its very hard to do one and still maintain the other. So, I came up with a compromise. Shelley. Rape scenario one, focus."

Shelley's eyes fluttered for a second then widened. I had hypnotized my darling wife earlier in the morning before she had left for work, giving her a few suggestions. One, when next she saw me, she would see me as a masked stranger, a man she did not recognize in the slightest. The sight of me would frighten her, and panic her, but not overly much, and not to the point of hysterics. Two, I confused her mind so that my voice did not sound familair. Her subconscious would know me, and respond to me as her Master, and she would obey my commands as long as she was under my spell, but her conscious mind would continue to think of me as a stranger. Step three was a bit more difficult. I placed a suggestion in her mind that she would hear my voice in her memory whenever she became extremely frightened to the point of hysteria, when she found that the situation was about to overwhelm her. I whispered soft reassurances into her ears, words to calm and relax her somewhat, not to totally remove her fear, but to keep it under control. Part of the attraction of her rape fantasies involved risk and fear, so I had to keep those elements, to make it as real as possible for her, yet let her know deep down that things would be okay somehow. Finally, part four. She would snap out of the trance and see me and hear me as I truly was when I kissed her, and that she would orgasm harder than ever before once my lips touched her own.

I related all those instructions to her again, as the memory of our early morning session came flooding back to her. "So you see," I said in earnest, "I didn't take you COMPLETELY by surprise, darling. You knew well in advance that this would happen today, I just... made you forget about it until after it was over, that's all."

"Oh, you are in so much trouble," she said in a low dangerous voice. I started to worry, but then I saw her eyes flashed amusement and resignation. She wasn't truly mad... well not THAT mad anyway. "This was a dirty rotten trick to pull on me, no matter how you try and dress it up. I will get you back for this somehow."

"I know, I know," I said dismissively. "But just keep in mind that this WAS done for your benefit. Love, we just lived out one of your hottest sexual fantasies. Can you look me in the eye and tell me it didn't thrill you like nothing else we've done so far?" Shelley shifted away, unable to meet my gaze. "You see? You LIKE it. I took you against your will and made you think it was someone else. And you enjoyed it."

"Yeah, well, maybe so," she said after a while. "But that doesn't mean I want you to EVER do something like that again. Even if you did put those reassurances in my head, it wasn't the same! You scared me, really really bad."

I sighed, cuddling up to you, kissing you again, and this time, you met my kiss eagerly, returning the passion. "Well, love, I guess I'll have to make it up to you somehow. Anything you want. Just ask."

Shelley glanced up at the head of the bed, then down at the foot. "Well, for starters, how about untying me from the freaking bed?"

Story: Against Her Will

by J. Darksong

<<<The End!>>>