The Circle: Abduction

Rape Sex stories: The Circle: Abduction. Author: LaceyChains. The story is including: Dark Fantasy, Bondage and restriction, Cruelty, Death, Drug, Murder, Rape, Slavery, Snuff, Written by women genres.

Sex stories: The Circle: Abduction

Author: LaceyChains

This is a dark fantasy of rape and abduction into slavery. It includes a reference to incest. This story includes sexual murder heavy bondage and torture. Please do not read it if such themes disturb you. They disturb me, but I hope by relating them I can free myself from the demon. This is entirely fiction from a woman’s deepest nightmare.

February 12th, 1993. It was a Saturday and I had just turned eighteen. It was a day that began with me believing I was blessed to live in a world that welcomed me with open arms. By its end, I found that the world I lived in is nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion.

Oh, it’s real enough I suppose, for those of you allowed to remain in front of the veil. Your world goes on, sorting out its petty squabbles in politics and the random chaos that afflicts those unlucky enough to be captured by it. The people are told that those who rule will care and protect them. The dark truth is that this is nothing but a convenient lie. How do I know? Because on that day, I was taken behind the curtain and the true nature of the world was revealed to me.

That was the day I met Marco. He was a few years older than I, maybe twenty-five, or so I thought at the time. He was incredibly handsome, with deep, dark eyes that just pierced into mine. He was a darker skinned man, with equally dark hair cut close to his scalp. His strong features didn’t seem to fit the stereo types of any race I knew. All I could think of was how utterly attractive he was in his perfectly tailored, designer suit. It certainly made the most of his 6’2” frame. Oh yes, he was a beautiful man. Within minutes of our first meeting on the sidewalks of Rodeo Drive, I was completely enchanted by him.

“Why, what is this I see?” He said musically with the most enchanting of smiles. “Here, in a city full of pretty girls, have I found she that is most beautiful of all? How can this be, that I am so lucky today!”

He spoke with an accent that was as wonderfully lyrical as it was unique and his booming baritone easily rose above the rancorous chaos of the city street. His joy-filled gaze pierced into me and held me fast. I was disarmed by this and ensnared by a smile that seemed brighter than the sun glinting off polished glass.

“What name do you posses, my delicate dove? Something noble I would think, like Isis or Bathsheba of the ancient worlds of legend? Whatever it may be, it cannot hope to match the clear and pristine beauty of your eyes!” He bowed with a dancers flare and a boyish laugh boomed unashamedly from his chest.

I laughed too, and my cheeks warmed from the overwhelming joy of being so richly greeted by this wonderful man. “Jessica, Jessica Perez,” I finally managed.

The man smiled again and then bowed with even greater panache’. “Jessica, is it?! Truly, that is a beautiful name! And I am Marco! No other name do I possess! No other name do I need! I am but Marco, alone!”

We laughed and smiled as people walked by. The world was shut off and my thoughts turned solely to this man I had just met. He was gorgeous and magnetic and I couldn’t have walked away any easier than I could have flown.

“So, tell me, young Jessica. Why do you come to the City of Dreams on this day? What can Marco do to grant you the bobbles and bells that you would use to enhance your already considerable charms!”

I loved his joy and was virtually hypnotized by the pentameter of his speech. My cheeks burned red and my hands covered my mouth as if I feared my breath would escape. “Well, I was looking for a new dress,” I finally managed, and his face lit with joy, as if it were the most fortunate of fates.

“A new dress! Then come with me, girl! I will show you to my boutique! I have the most beautiful line of designer fashions to share with you! Don’t worry about the cost! For a nymph of your beauty, I would be honored to see you wearing them!” He was incredibly friendly and amazingly enthusiastic, and I was swept down the street without a thought of resisting his spell.

We entered behind an unmarked door to a shop he said was so exclusive, he needed no sign. His boutique was small, but within those walls were some of the most elegant dresses I had ever seen. One after another, they adorned the featureless and synthetic bodies of manikins frozen in poses of near-erotic beauty. In silks and satins and in a myriad of colors, they filled my heart with visions of Royal or Hollywood splendor. I was breathless with excitement and dizzy with the dreams of a young girl lost in the center of sophisticated beauty. I was Snow White and Cinderella, but there would no Handsome Prince or Fairy Godmother to come and bestow a happy ending upon my story.

At the time, my only concern was that these beautiful and delicate gowns must have been well beyond the reach of my fathers credit card. The thought that I might be denied having one of these gossamer gowns made my heart feel heavy, but then Marco appeared at my side again.

“Come, girl,” he said in his friendly and wonderfully accented baritone. “I have something special to show you. Do not despair, I assure you that what I offer can never be bought with something as base as money!”

I could only giggle and blush at the way his voice caressed my nerves. With his hand on my back, he led me into a smaller room behind the floor of the boutique. I followed without worry, willing to believe in the magic of a young girl’s dreams. Instead, I fell into a woman’s nightmare.

The room itself was dimly lit with nothing more than an empty bed and dusty shelves adorning unpainted walls. It was a strange dichotomy to the luxurious decor of the outer store and I was perplexed as to why the great treasures he promised would be found in such a mundane and ordinary local. I turned to question him but when I did, his strong hand came quickly to my throat.

Fear rose like a wave in my body! My hands pulled hopelessly at his but to no avail. I tried to scream, to call out for help, but his fingers closed tightly around my throat and my cries were squeezed off before they could be granted voice. My knees trembled and failed and I would have collapsed completely but for his hot and iron grip on my neck. Realizing I was in mortal danger, my heart raced horribly as my body was forced against the cold grey of the uncolored walls.

“You may scream and fight, my little dove.” he said in buttery soft tones. “You are untamed, so it is to be expected that you will resist. In time, you will learn the futility of your efforts.” Even then his tone was friendly and understanding, as if he were granting me the right to my fear.

My face was burning hot and spittle dripped from my lips as my need to breathe became desperate. I felt my blood rushing in my ears and I my vision began to fade. Marco stared into my eyes, watching with an icy detachment that was completely at odds with the man whom had greeted me on the street. When my chest began to heave, he stepped back and pushed me head first onto the bed.

My body hacked and wheezed as I struggled to wretch and draw breath at the same time. My thoughts spun wildly as I desperately tried to sort through my confusion. I rose for a moment, trying to gain my feet. I wanted to run or fight or call for help, but as I turned, his hand swung around and struck my cheek hard enough to send me reeling backward again.

Bright lights exploded in my head and pain rocketed through my body as my strength washed away. I was reduced to crying hysterically and I rolled into a ball, shivering in fear at what this man might do next.

“N-noo-! I screamed as he reached out for me and I kicked and swatted at his hand, trying to drive him away.

“Girl, You are a fighter. You have spirit and that is good, but spirit like that will only be seen as a challenge to the Masters. You will need to learn when to fight, and when to submit.” His hand locked tightly on the back of my neck, and he pushed my face down into the sheets.

I struggled with what little strength I had left, wondering what he had meant. When I felt his hand sliding up my thigh and under my dress, I knew I was going to be raped. “Oh God, please no. Don’t do this to me,” I screamed, begging for mercy that was never going to be granted. I writhed under him, trying desperately to avoid his touch. His fingers slid up my thigh until I felt him touching me in my most intimate of places.

I cried in protest and begged again for mercy, but my pleas fell on an uncaring soul. My writhing and struggles only assisted him in his deed as my dress began riding up my thighs. I felt a harsh tug at my hip and then he was dragging my panties down my thighs, leaving me bare and unprotected from his coming assault.

By then, my hope was lost and I was reduced to tearful whimpering. My body felt so very weak yet my muscles ached to find purchase and fight back. He grabbed my hair and squeezed a handful so tightly in his fist I thought he might pull it out, and he shook my head hard enough to make me wince. “”Ahhh!, no please,” I begged with all my heart. Please don’t do this!” Tears and anguish pulsed through my voice as the words formed without conscience thought. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die. I’ll do what you want, just please, please don’t kill me!”

Marco released my hair and my head dropped heavily on the pillow. “I won’t kill you, girl. If you submit, your Moment is not mine to give.” His words were as ominous in tone as they were in meaning and my body racked heavily in silent sobs.

I felt him move over me and the rustle of his clothes became loud in my ears. I dared not open my eyes, fearing that in his place I might see some ghastly monster. It sounds so foolish to think, yet had I looked, I would have seen his hard and throbbing cock as he stroked it in preparation for my first of countless rapes.