Rape Fantasy

I always feel strange prefacing my rape fantasy fare with a warning, but these days *shrugs* who knows what people are capable of misconstruing. Rape fantasy is something many of us fantasize about.  Doesn’t mean we’re “askin’ for it” unless we’re in a consensual non-consent relationship with you. ~n~

It was dusky, not full dark, and the grey tendrils of fog presaged the rapidly dropping temperatures. She’d shivered as she’d walked, her car just down a half a block from the store. Dressed for the warmer temperatures of the afternoon in a light tank top and skirt, she’d been unprepared for the sudden shift in the weather. Goosebumps puckered her skin and her nipples tightened. Picking up her pace, she thought longingly of the warmth of her vehicle, of the heater turned up to high and blowing her chill away.

The hands grabbed her roughly as she walked past the alleyway.

“Waaa??” was all she was able to yelp as a dirty rag was stuffed between her lips.


Shoved roughly against the wall, she tried to push off, but shock and his hand between her shoulder blades didn’t allow her to move much. A hard shove and her nose bumped the rough wall in front of her. A body pressed against her, the heat welcome, though the hands now gripping her tits were not.

“Nice knockers.” He growled softly, before his fingers gripped the bottom of her shirt,  pulling it up and over her face. Her breasts fell forward as he ripped her bra down, breaking the left strap. Roughly he pinched her nipples, twisting them coarsely. She whimpered and cried out but the gag effectively stopped the sounds from travelling far.

He leaned hard against her, her breasts flattened against the stone. It hurt, the rough edges catching on her tender skin. She knew, though she struggled hard, that he was going to rape her.

Her skirt was raised up, ragged nails scratching against her thighs. She pushed away, struggled for space to wriggle free before he slammed her back, knocking the breath from her and smashing her boobs against the chilly wall. His hand cuffed her cheek.

“Cut that shit out. I’m gonna fuck you and then I’ll be on my way. Tender piece of ass like you, you want a nice hard cock piercing you. Warm you up, juicing your belly up nice. Fucking whore, you’re gonna get all my meat.”

She shook her head no, but he wasn’t listening. His breathing was loud, harsh against her neck as his hands worked between them. She felt it, the head of his thing, felt it searching for her, seeking entry into her secret place. She squeezed her legs, squeaking out a high pitched ‘stop’ as she writhed against the body pressing upon her.

He wasn’t going to stop. His cock slid along her split until it stuck against her hole. A quick shift of his hips and the first few inches poked into her. Rising to her toes, she tried to dislodge him by squeezing her inner muscles, but he laughed, and pulled her hips down as he rose fully, driving himself into her.

In and out, in and out, she chanted in her head, willing him to finish. Her cunt was burning. Her ears were burning as he spoke disgusting things to her. Calling her a slut, a whore, a wet, greasy cunt. Telling her how hot she was, how slick and needy. His hands pinched her nipples hard, then pulled them. Her breasts were grabbed, squeezed, mauled as he moved in and out, in and out. She could hear the sounds of the sex, the wet squelching sucking of his cock pulling free, and feel the slick wetness as he drove forcefully back into her.

Her cunt ached. Her tits were screaming. A hard push, his hips grinding deep foreshadowed his orgasm. He pulled out, just a bit, then pistoned again, making her body jerk at the depth of each thrust. He came, grunting and biting her neck. He held her there until his cock was flaccid, slipping from her. A hand mashed her head against the wall.

“Fucking stay here until you count to ten.”

For a moment there was nothing. No sound, no pressure of him against her. The sudden rush of cold air made her shiver. Faintly she heard the sound of someone running away and she knew she was alone. Hands shaking, she spat and pulled the gag out of her mouth, then gathered up her panties from around her ankles. Shivering hard, she tugged down her skirt and shirt, adjusting her bra as much as she could. Quickly she scooped up her purse from where it had fallen beside her, and dug for her keys. She took a breath, a second one, and ignoring the wetness leaking from her abused vagina, she ran as fast as she was able to her car.

Later at home, after a long and steaming shower, she masturbated, coming hard as she held her destroyed bra in her free hand.

3 thoughts on “Rape Fantasy

  1. Makes me want to write this from the man’s perspective. What with all the talk of sexual assault and rape, thank you—and I write that from a male’s perspective—for giving readers the space to still enjoy the fantasy—not truly rape —but control, desire, being desired, dominance, submission. And how well-written!

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