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Dust
- Joined
- May 4, 2012
The following is fictitious. Keep it that way.
The Springfield Predator
I awaken under my rapist. The weight of his naked, sweat-slicked body keeps me pinned to the filthy bare mattress. A lone lightbulb hanging overhead spotlights the perverse sexual act.
Rough rope binds my wrists, trapping them behind my back. A strip of duct tape turns my dismayed squeal into a muffled yelp that goes unnoticed as he rapes me. My ankles are free but then again, with his hips between my thighs, he isn't concerned about me closing my legs.
His strokes are rhythmic and deliberate. He's not fucking me out of desperation; he savors the way my vaginal passage clenches and clamps on his intruding cock. It's a thick and hearty erection that stretches my channel to the limit and drives deep into my core with every thrust.
My breasts are naked and he uses them for leverage, squeezing and clutching them and leaving distinct red fingerprints on my cleavage. I lift my head and look around the basement but the room is empty; it's up to me to fend for myself.
I scream into the tape as he climaxes. Hot, gelatinous semen fills my loins and dribbles out, trickling between my buttcheeks and streaming down the crack of my ass. He ensures that every last drop of his vile ejaculate has been discharged with a few more pumps and then crawls from between my legs.
I sob quietly as he retrieves a camera and begins immortalizing my broken, violated state. The wall to my left is a shrine to cruelty. Pictures of naked women fill it from floor to ceiling. Most are crying but some appear to be unconscious. The majority of the pictures are close-up shots of bruised, swollen vaginas with semen leaking from them. Along the top of the wall are close-ups of his victim's gagged faces; beneath each a pair of torn panties hang from a nail. A familiar pair of panties hangs from the rightmost nail, but the space above is blank.
He straddles my stomach and grabs my throat, turning my head toward the cold lens of the camera. Tears roll down my face as the flash ignites. He sets the camera aside and pulls me up onto my knees. He pulls a stool to the edge of the mattress and sits. His semi-erect cock twitches as he grabs me by the hair, yanks off the tape, and shoves my head into his crotch.
His cock is coated with a mixture of vaginal fluid and semen, his dark bush of pubic hair matted. The odor of stale sweat pervades from his swollen testicles. Gagging, I grimace and look away. He pulls by head back and slaps me hard across the face. Again I refuse, and again he hits me. With my cheek stinging red I relent after the third slap. He shoves his gooey cock into my mouth and it immediately begins to stiffen in the warm wetness of my mouth.
Sobbing softly, I reward the man for sexually assaulting me by allowing him to rape me orally. His penis grows fully hard once again and he withdraws. Gasping for breath, I am a puppet in his hands for a moment as he moves behind me and shoves me over the stool. Foregoing any preliminaries he penetrates my pussy again, giving it a few pumps. I moan softly in dismay, giving him an opportunity to pull a rolled bandanna between my lips and teeth and knot it tight at the back of my skull.
I bite hard on the gag when he pulls out of my pussy and drives into my fist-tight anus. He grabs the edges of the stool to keep it upright and thrusts hard. The pain in my ass is excruciating and soon proves too much to handle. He pulls back and drives in again, and the world goes black. My kidnapper is unfazed. He pistons in and out of my clutching rectum for a few minutes before dumping a fresh load and then tosses me onto the mattress for the final round of pictures.
I awaken to the bite of icy water on my face. I lay in his back yard under the spray of a garden hose. He sprays me down from head to toe, kicking open my legs to wash his semen from my pussy and ass. He shoves the nozzle between the gag and my lip, thoroughly purging my mouth of his DNA. He binds my feet and then carries me to the van. The sight of the vehicle sends shivers down my spine; it's the last thing I saw before a chemical-soaked rag clamped over my face while I walked home alone.
He dumps me in the back and we drive for an hour or so until reaching a long, stretch of highway in the used. He pulls over to the side of the road and waits for all the headlights to go past before opening the back and kicking me into the road. I lay bound, gagged, and naked in the middle of the highway, watching him close the back doors and take off down the road. His rear lights disappear into the darkness.
Crying softly, I look over my shoulder. A pair of headlights are approaching and slowing. A shadow steps out of the car and rushes to my side. The driver already knows who I am: the latest of the Springfield Predator's victims.
The Springfield Predator
I awaken under my rapist. The weight of his naked, sweat-slicked body keeps me pinned to the filthy bare mattress. A lone lightbulb hanging overhead spotlights the perverse sexual act.
Rough rope binds my wrists, trapping them behind my back. A strip of duct tape turns my dismayed squeal into a muffled yelp that goes unnoticed as he rapes me. My ankles are free but then again, with his hips between my thighs, he isn't concerned about me closing my legs.
His strokes are rhythmic and deliberate. He's not fucking me out of desperation; he savors the way my vaginal passage clenches and clamps on his intruding cock. It's a thick and hearty erection that stretches my channel to the limit and drives deep into my core with every thrust.
My breasts are naked and he uses them for leverage, squeezing and clutching them and leaving distinct red fingerprints on my cleavage. I lift my head and look around the basement but the room is empty; it's up to me to fend for myself.
I scream into the tape as he climaxes. Hot, gelatinous semen fills my loins and dribbles out, trickling between my buttcheeks and streaming down the crack of my ass. He ensures that every last drop of his vile ejaculate has been discharged with a few more pumps and then crawls from between my legs.
I sob quietly as he retrieves a camera and begins immortalizing my broken, violated state. The wall to my left is a shrine to cruelty. Pictures of naked women fill it from floor to ceiling. Most are crying but some appear to be unconscious. The majority of the pictures are close-up shots of bruised, swollen vaginas with semen leaking from them. Along the top of the wall are close-ups of his victim's gagged faces; beneath each a pair of torn panties hang from a nail. A familiar pair of panties hangs from the rightmost nail, but the space above is blank.
He straddles my stomach and grabs my throat, turning my head toward the cold lens of the camera. Tears roll down my face as the flash ignites. He sets the camera aside and pulls me up onto my knees. He pulls a stool to the edge of the mattress and sits. His semi-erect cock twitches as he grabs me by the hair, yanks off the tape, and shoves my head into his crotch.
His cock is coated with a mixture of vaginal fluid and semen, his dark bush of pubic hair matted. The odor of stale sweat pervades from his swollen testicles. Gagging, I grimace and look away. He pulls by head back and slaps me hard across the face. Again I refuse, and again he hits me. With my cheek stinging red I relent after the third slap. He shoves his gooey cock into my mouth and it immediately begins to stiffen in the warm wetness of my mouth.
Sobbing softly, I reward the man for sexually assaulting me by allowing him to rape me orally. His penis grows fully hard once again and he withdraws. Gasping for breath, I am a puppet in his hands for a moment as he moves behind me and shoves me over the stool. Foregoing any preliminaries he penetrates my pussy again, giving it a few pumps. I moan softly in dismay, giving him an opportunity to pull a rolled bandanna between my lips and teeth and knot it tight at the back of my skull.
I bite hard on the gag when he pulls out of my pussy and drives into my fist-tight anus. He grabs the edges of the stool to keep it upright and thrusts hard. The pain in my ass is excruciating and soon proves too much to handle. He pulls back and drives in again, and the world goes black. My kidnapper is unfazed. He pistons in and out of my clutching rectum for a few minutes before dumping a fresh load and then tosses me onto the mattress for the final round of pictures.
I awaken to the bite of icy water on my face. I lay in his back yard under the spray of a garden hose. He sprays me down from head to toe, kicking open my legs to wash his semen from my pussy and ass. He shoves the nozzle between the gag and my lip, thoroughly purging my mouth of his DNA. He binds my feet and then carries me to the van. The sight of the vehicle sends shivers down my spine; it's the last thing I saw before a chemical-soaked rag clamped over my face while I walked home alone.
He dumps me in the back and we drive for an hour or so until reaching a long, stretch of highway in the used. He pulls over to the side of the road and waits for all the headlights to go past before opening the back and kicking me into the road. I lay bound, gagged, and naked in the middle of the highway, watching him close the back doors and take off down the road. His rear lights disappear into the darkness.
Crying softly, I look over my shoulder. A pair of headlights are approaching and slowing. A shadow steps out of the car and rushes to my side. The driver already knows who I am: the latest of the Springfield Predator's victims.