Flight won and I heard his sadistic laughter behind me when I sprinted into the oppressive black sheeting maze. I instantly regretted it when the strobe lights spread in different corners proved to be even more disorienting and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be in the shadows or in the lights right from the start. Both were equally fucking terrifying.
I turned a corner when I heard more laughter and couldn’t stop from shrieking at the sight of the skeleton statue in the flashing lights, forgetting that there was a world outside of this.
————
Ethan – Prior Memories
Rape fantasy.
A lot of people didn’t understand it, but oh so many people got off on it. I’ll never forget the first time Sophie brought it up to me. We had been dating for a few months and she had hinted at having darker fantasies, ones that aroused her as much as they scared her. I had had to confess to getting off on drugging stories before she finally confided in me.
“Okay, so.” She took a breath where we were cuddled in bed together, laughing a little nervously. “I have these stories I like to write and read and I’ve always been scared to talk about them because I know it might come true, but I also kind of want it to come true.”
“Just talk about it with me?” I stroked her hair, so interested, and Sophie was someone who I wanted to comfort and protect by nature. She was slighter than me, small and shy. Sometimes I’d have to get spices down for her from too high cabinets when she cooked and it always made me feel even more protective.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll tell you. Rape stories.”
I paused for a minute, but not because I judged her. It just… took me by surprise. It didn’t exactly shock me, but I just hadn’t taken the moment to consider what she might say, so it was a default kind of surprise, if that makes sense. “Like blackmail or drugging kind or-?”
Now that she’d decided to tell me, it seemed like she was all in for the confession because she spoke in a rush. “No, like the outright ones, the really, really violent kind. Like, I’m lost somewhere and I get assaulted, so hard it leaves some bruising when I struggle, or I’ve been a bad girl against a boss and he takes me to his office to ‘reprimand’ me. I fantasize about the role play, I mean, but I have fantasies about it being as close to real as it could possibly feel, so close that it would scare the hell out of me.”
I wasn’t actually shocked by this speech of hers by that point because Sophie was pretty damned attracted to violence. Her favorite genre in all things was horror and the bloodier it was, the better. I remember the first time I ever showed her Hostel, she bounced in the seat with excitement at the goriest parts. She just loved that kind of thing and the books she loved were things that were always twisted. American Psycho, Clive Barker, and the like. She ate it up like candy and the more graphic the de***********ors, the more excited she got. As for the sex part, she definitely liked roughness. She would ask me to do things like pull her hair or choke her a little, light spanking by that point, some starter domination games.
So, like I said, my first reaction was definitely not shock and it certainly wasn’t judgment. I did laugh nervously, though. “Oh man, I could totally see that being a fear, but I’m not sure I’d be the one to do it with you. I don’t know that I could stay hard with something like that, you know? It just goes against the grain. Like, a girl says ‘no’ or says her safeword and you just stop. You have to.”
It was, evidently, the perfect response. She laughed and kissed my cheek. “I know, I know, but I think that’s part of why I like it, too. It’s this taboo thing and it just sounds so terrifying.” She drew out the ‘so’ for emphasis, while I considered that for someone like Sophie. “I like some that are definitely not realistic at all, like the ones with werewolves, where they hunt this girl down and she’s terrified, but she’s their prey. That just seemed like the perfect story to describe how I felt when I read it. It’s this predator and prey thing, like being hunted and terrorized. Sometimes I’ve thought a lot on how I’d do it, for me, if it was a fantasy I could make feel real in a safe way that pushes the limits.”
I adjusted to face her better, even more interested. When it came to even our light domination games and talking about getting harder, Sophie always had some thoughts on how to make dark fantasies into something realistic and safe. She loved to talk about edgeplay and ways to be careful. “Okay, how would you do it, then? What would your ideal be?”
She blushed, but also giggled, and now that I had her talking, she seemed into the conversation. “Okay, so, my ideal would definitely have to be worked up to because I wouldn’t want the safeword option. And I wouldn’t want to know a lot of key details about the scene so that it would make it more terrifying. For instance, let’s say we talked about a setup, right, and we agreed that you were going to, I don’t know, find me on my way home and hold a knife to my throat and we agree to do it on Tuesday and agree on a place. So my idea would be that, and this is after talking a lot and trying things out, you’d do the knife thing, but it would happen on Monday and in a different place instead. That kind of thing.”
The scent of her arousal struck me and I shifted because I couldn’t stop thinking about one phrase she’d said when initially describing it. It’s this predator and prey thing. I don’t know why that particular wording stuck to me, but once she said it, I couldn’t stop repeating the idea and picturing a wolf in my mind’s eye. Combine that with her scent and, despite what I’d said and what I’d thought, I was getting hard while she talked. I shifted uncomfortably and stroked a loose piece of her dark hair back behind her ear. “That’d be…” Dark. On the edge of too dangerous. Definitely not how you’re supposed to do things. “Intense.” Wait, no. That word wasn’t the correct one.
Er. Was it?
Sophie nodded with excitement. “Exactly! That’s why I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve written a lot of stories.” She blushed. “Like so many, but I’ve never told anyone about this. It just feels so wrong and twisted, but you know all those times you’ve caught me masturbating in the bathroom and you always ask how I get off harder when rubbing my clit than when I use the vibrator sometimes?”
I laughed because I’d walked in on her when she was, in fact, getting off wildly hard. She’d be sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her legs spread and her head thrown back, brunette curls in a tangled frame around her face and down her back. She really would be way more worked up than she got with the vibrator, too, so much so that I would be able to see where a mess of white cum was dripping in a slow, hot amount down the center of her pussy’s slit. The lips would be swollen where she’d already have abused them so hard with her frantic, circular stroking. I mean it looked outright pornographic in those moments.
And hot as fuck, even when she’d shriek with surprise at my walking in on her. “Yeah, I definitely remember.”
She slapped my shoulder playfully. “Yeah, well, that’s what I’m thinking of when I do that, one of those fantasies. I’ll start off rubbing myself really slow while thinking of the start of the fantasy and how it would play out if I was walking down a dark alley or something and then I’ll go faster and faster when it gets darker and darker. It makes me cum so hard my ears ring sometimes, especially if I do it in the bathroom at work.”
“Wait, wait, is that the thing you think of those nights after we watch horror movies where you’ll wake up and masturbate three times in a night, too?” I couldn’t believe her sex drive when she had brought that up to me a few times, but then she’d proven it to me by sending me pictures one night. It was seriously three different times when she’d woken up excited and she’d still been laying in her bed in every photo. She turned on the light by her bed so that she could take pictures for me, placing the camera as close to her pussy as she could get without losing focus. Her clit had been so goddamn swollen with how horny she’d been every time.
“Maybe.” She drew that word out too, only a little nervously after talking. “That… actually wasn’t so bad to confess to.”
God, she smelled so good when she was worked up and talking about it had definitely gotten her aroused. It was this sultry, hot scent that I had come to associate with pleasure because… Well, despite how shy she could be and despite her trepidation with talking about some things, Sophie had steadily gotten more and more comfortable with me so she wasn’t so skittish about her desire for sex. By that, I mean we were at the phase of our relationship where she was comfortable enough to stay naked when she came over to my place. Usually after we’d have a hard fuck sometime while hanging out or playing PlayStation games, she’d just stay without her clothes on. She preferred to sleep that way anyway.
Not that I was complaining. I could wake up in the night, horny while she was still sleeping, and stroke my fingers down her pussy’s entrance and she’d be wet and awake within minutes. But I’d learned to not get her too wet because Sophie loved the sensation of not being completely ready, of being slowly stretched and filled. If she was half asleep when I did that, then she’d come fully awake, crying out from just the slightest bite of abrasive pain because she’d be slick enough for it to not totally hurt, but not quite ready enough to completely mask the sensation. She’d moan so loud and her body would turn tight beneath me, while she lay face down under me because she loved it from behind the most, too.
One time she’d laughingly confessed that the only time she got to enjoy that feeling was when she was asleep like that because she was so horny for me all the time.
Yeah, no, it was zero surprise by that point that she’d confess to craving a rape fantasy as hard and real as she could have it. I stroked my fingers through her hair and couldn’t keep from kissing her and we knew each other so well. Her mouth opened as soon as I licked her lips to make the kiss filthier. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of sex with Sophie. She always had this raw edge to her, so much so that I rarely had occasion to have gentle missionary lovemaking with her. I had tried to start that way sometimes and it very quickly devolved when she grasped my hand and clasped it to her throat. It was impossible to not fuck her harder every time she did it because as soon as I squeezed to choke her a little, her pussy would constrict around my cock and she’d get so wet so fast, almost to orgasm. We’d end up racing towards release together in hot, sweaty sex instead of my original intention.
Leave a Reply