Fucked!

FUCKED!

A tale of torment by Barbie

Chapter 1 – Trapped

I would describe my ‘abduction' as surreal. I didn't even know what the word meant before. I knew the definition, but not how it really felt to live it. Or maybe it's just that my own ‘abduction', in the safety of my home, was beyond surreal. My head was spinning with the suddenness of it all. I had been neatly captured and rendered helpless within seconds. When I opened the door earlier and was suddenly confronted by the man, the sight of him, masked and all in black, had caused me to stagger backwards in shock allowing him to quietly step inside my house.

My arms were brought roughly together behind my back. My knees buckled, and I hanged briefly in the stranger's grasp. I began to struggle when he placed his hand over my mouth, trapping my screams in my throat. I began to breathe heavily and felt my heart pounding in apprehension of what might happen next. He pressed me against the wall and whispered in my ear “Keep quiet!” I twisted away from the wall, but he pushed me back. I heard the sound of my silky top snagging on the rough wall as my breasts rubbed against it. He was too strong for me to break free. Eyes wide with terror, breathing heavily, I nodded. I stopped struggling as I knew I had no chance against him now: I was firmly captured.

He wrapped one of his strong harm around me and gripped me with crushing strength, pinning my arms to my sides. Again I started struggling violently against him but I was helpless as he dragged me into the sittin room. Pulling me into the drawin room, he forced me to kneel face down on the sofa and straddled my ass. My frantic struggles only made him work harder, but he got me there.

He took his hand off of my mouth and pulled both of my arms behind me. He could suffer my screaming for a few seconds while he reached into his pockets searching for something. My heart began beating faster and my breath quickened as the fear of what was about to happen grew. My cries were deafening, hurrying him on. Seconds later his rough hands grabbed my wrists and crossed them, circling them with a plastic strip. The binding was swift and brutal, the heavy plastic zip-tie hurt badly but once tightened it could only be cut loose. I felt the plastic tie being slipped around my wrists and pulled tight with a quick hard tug. It made a zipping sound as he threaded and tightened it until it dug painfully into my flesh. I gasped as the plastic tie pinched my delicate skin. He noticed my wince as the circulation was almost cut off in my wrists . “Too tight bitch? ” I tried tentatively to move my wrists inside the bond but it was unyielding. It allowed no play, every movement sent sharp stabs of pain lancing through my wrists. Simple but terribly effective. I was helpless and in pain, wondering bitterly how long I would have to stay this way.

“What's your name cunt?” the masked man then asked me. There was no response, he was still holding me face down on the sofa. “Don't make me ask again bitch! What's your fucking name?” the man asked again pressing my pretty face even harder onto the sofa, his voice harsh with anger.

“B-B-Barbara... My name is Barbara...” I managed to sob, my voice was muffled because my face was pressed down onto the sofa; there was fear in my voice.

“That's better bitch. Now, there's a hard way and an easy way to play this game. Basically this game is one in which we have some fun together and then I fuck your snobbish cunt. Understand?” he whispered, his mouth inches from my ear. I couldn't know, but this ‘game' he referred to was one in which he was very experienced. The man enjoyed all aspects of this strange game; the preparation, the chase, the capture, the rape of his prey. He slowly removed his hands from my shoulders, allowing me to raise my head and gasp for breath. “Are you going to be nice? Or do I have to play rough? It doesn't matter to me, either way I get what I want”. As the man said this he was caressing my hair, and I shivered with fear and revulsion at his touch.

“Please leave! I won't tell anyone! No one will know you were here. Do you want money? I have lots of money!” I said. The man stared at me; I was too scared to look at him; the black mask he wore hid his face and all I could see were his dead eyes. He knew what I did not, that all this, like all his ‘games', has been carefully planned, that he'd been watching me, for quite some time. Everything about me was familiar to him, from the scent I wore, every curve of my body, my work schedule, hobbies, even what books I read and music I listened to were burned into his brain. He had watched my movements, watched and waited for the right opportunity… another one of my husband's long business trips overseas.

“Money? Is that what you think I want stupid cock-teaser? This is no robbery...” as he said this, the man slid his hands down my back, gently cupping my bottom. I could not see that he was smiling behind his mask as he touched my fit body, he could see the outline of my thong through the black leather of my short skirt. His cock started to stir inside his black jeans.

“ You are a teasing bitch and you have a nice little ass underneath this sluttish skirt… that's what I want! I want to make you cry as I fuck this nice ass of yours. Have you ever been taken up the ass, slut?” he asked as he traced his fingers along my thong line.

At this I screamed and started to struggle away from him. The man leaned back slightly and I squirmed away from him, then I was free and I hurtled as fast as my vertiginous heels and the tight leather skirt would allow me towards the door. My high, spiked heels clacked on the floor and f or once I wish I wasn't wearing them, my running made even more unsteady by my hands still tightly tied behind my back. The man watched me; this always amused him, this aspect of the game; like a cat with a mouse he played with me. He watched as I reached the door, he knew that my hopes of escape were rising by the second as I made my way down the hall. Then, quick as a cat, he jumped up and raced after me, shouting “I'm coming to get you! You are such a naughty bitch, running from me!” I gave a despairing scream and looked round and saw the masked man sprinting towards me.

As I reached the front door and frantically tried to unlock it I was suddenly slammed hard into it. Then he spun me round and threw me to the floor. I landed heavily, the wind knocked out of me, I felt dazed and shocked from banging my head against the door. The man glared down at me as I lay in an untidy sprawl, the leather skirt hiked up around my thighs, my legs and my lingerie exposed.

What a sight greeted him. The skirt lay in ruffles across my stomach, just peeking beneath it lay a lacy black thong which did not hide much of my private parts. Black suspenders snaked their way across my tanned thighs to hold up sheer black stockings. The stocking tops and suspenders framed my neatly trimmed pubic area wonderfully. I was helpless, vulnerable and undeniably beautiful. I tried to forget all the bad horror movies I've ever seen, all of the news articles I've ever read…

I wished I had dressed differently to go out with my friends that night. It was Friday, and I wanted to blow off some steam. Some of my friends were going to meet at a bar and have a few drinks. A husband and a high demanding well paid job meant I hadn't had a proper time out in weeks, so I was really looking forward to this. After work I took a taxi home and slipped out of the designer two-piece skirt suit and form fitting shirt that along with sheer black stockings and stiletto heels is my typical business attire, and had a nice long shower. My sensitive breasts were washed much longer then needed: I enjoyed the feeling of hot water running over them while gently working my nipples.

I am proud of my look, and I've always liked the idea of men's attention to me because of my body, a gorgeous 32 year old statuesque blond with a permanently tanned skin. I can honestly say that I stand out from the crowd: 5'11”, neatly groomed shoulder length blond hair, piercing blue eyes and a blinding white smile framed by a pair of silky, sensuous full lips that begged to be kissed.

Feeling hot, I put on clothes that in a sexy way showed off my sexy body more than usual. Soft, silky and alluring was what my emotions told me I should choose for my lingerie. Silky sheer stockings, lacy thong, garter belt and push-up bra all in black were picked to caress my body. My nipples stood erect behind the flimsy brassiere material and my body felt electrified. A straight cut black leather skirt that gently hugged my hips and stopped well above my knees, revealing more than enough of my slender, shapely legs , and a black silky half top that just barely came down to my belly button allowing a glimpse of my bronzed flat stomach and some cleavage, were instead chosen to care for my ‘outer' pleasure.

My fingers finished clipping the sheer stockings to the garter belt, the carefully manicured blood-red nails creating a significant contrast on the black silk, then my hands heaved my firm round 34C breast as I did the silk of the top, proud of my impressive bust. I dressed slowly letting every different sensation from the variety of fabrics penetrate my being. Satisfied that the leather skirt was showing off enough of my nicely rounded, tight and firm ass, I completed my outfit with a pair of shiny black 4 inch stiletto heels with ankle straps and pointy toes that made my legs look even longer than they were. Once dressed I admired my handiwork in a full-length mirror, turning around , modelling, and looking at my attractive ass. I decided to finish the ensemble with a silver circles chain belt, surely adequate to accentuate the curves of my hips. I definitely wanted to make sure my feminine appearance wouldn't pass unnoticed.

I was dressed to kill and I looked hot, “Maybe a little too much” I remembered saying to myself, but since the clock was working overtime I decided to go like that. A little make-up, my eye shadow and black eyeliner to enhance my natural sparkling blue eyes and my favourite glossy red lipstick matching the colour of my inch-long impeccably manicured fingernails, and I was ready to rock. The evening with my friends was great. I had a great time, drinking, dancing and flirting. Dancing is something I am really good at, and I enjoy doing things I am good at. The alcohol made me flirt more than I have done in years so I made sure some of the men in the club could get a glimpse of me adjusting the sheer black stockings and pulling them tight on the suspenders. As a consequence I had to spend great part of the evening turning down their advances, regarding everyone with a wide smile that, for all its toothiness, had no real warmth in it . I just love to tease, I love when men look at me, following the glossy line right down my back to my trim ass, looking at things they can't have… I know it's cruel but it's so much fun to be a tease.

He looked at the silky, half top and black lacy bra, the one where my nipples were subtly, but clearly visible, my black satiny thong panties, and my black sheer stockings with garter belt with what looked like amazement. He probably wasn't expecting the bonus of sexy underwear, but he liked it. He was probably asking himself whether I was a high priced whore or a woman who, underneath her clothes, is a shameless slut. Undoubtedly he couldn't believe his eyes, I looked like I had been cut out of a movies or a fashion magazine… what a whore, what a delicious slut I was, who wouldn't have wanted to fuck me? I was mortified. “ Filthy cum-slurping slut you really were expecting me with your whore underwear, don't you?” mocking laughter followed.

I had finished off in the top three of my class in business-school. At 23 I had got a promising job in a well recommended company and now had a life most women would kill for, a beautiful 30 something who wanted and had it all: a great career, a successful attentive husband, if off on some business trip tonight, and a long, well toned body to die for. I knew that word had got around that I didn't get that job only because of my skills, and I hated that. I know I am smart, and that I would have got that job without being a ‘hottie'. Of course, there had been several colleagues that had attempted to kiss my lips, among other things, but I had always gently refused any offers of dating with the guys from work, meetings like that would have been like gasoline on fire to my reputation. Nonetheless this has never discouraged me from showing off my body also at work. After all, glamorous lingerie and expensive nylons aren't just for the weekend, are they? I exuded sexuality, even in the tailored business suits I wore to work and I work hard to keep myself in pretty good shape, nothing too muscular and nothing too masculine. I simply love the open looks at my body, feeling eyes burned on my ass, legs and breasts when I walk somewhere in. Not this time though, now I only felt ashamed.

I sighed. Now the sexy underwear I had worn to tease was only making me feel like one of those sex objects I had heard about. The flimsy bra which barely covered my voluptuous breasts was barely keeping them from escaping their skimpy cups. They were sticking out even more due to my arms being pulled back so tightly behind my back. And the sexy garter belt and sheer black stockings now would only serve to stimulate my attacker instead of just teasing. I was still wearing those all too scanty, nearly transparent panties I had bought for what should have been very special occasions, and which didn't do much to hide my intimate parts. My see through bra wasn't doing much better either. That was another thing I had bought especially for some special night with my husband. It naughtily revealed and uplifted my firm breasts, not that they needed much uplifting in the first place, but I had found it would create that enhancing effect which most women would die for. Now, I thought, these clothes might be what I'll die for if they prove to be too enticing! My struggling was making my breasts spill out of the bra, but there wasn't much I could do about it for now. All the time I spent taunting men was coming back to haunt me… Thanks to my flirting, teasing and overall stupidity I was going to spend the night being brutally raped, abused and tormented by a real psycho.

“Are you happy now sluttish cock-teaser? All you have achieved is to make me angry… why can't you just accept the situation? Now... get on your fucking knees where you belong whore!” the man angrily spat these words to me. The man, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and lust, moved threateningly towards me as I hesitated. I looked at the masked figure standing before me and started to cry. I struggled to my knees, my eyes downcast, my body trembling.

A feeling of utter helplessness and despair descended on me, while again I desperately tested the heavy plastic tie holding my hands uselessly behind my back. Only half an hour ago, I was in a nightclub enjoying the evening, the drinks and the conversation. Now I was tied up, helplessly trapped in a nightmare that was only just beginning. It was terrifying. This wasn't just a robbery. And this wasn't the usual burglary tie-up where the victims are bound and gagged to give the burglar time to get away. This was kidnapping or rape, maybe both.

He took the revolver from the back of his trouser and in a flash had it pointed at my head. I hadn't even noticed he was carrying a revolver. Now I was beyond frightened. If you've never had a gun pointed at you, there's no way to understand the pure horror... the sick awareness that you're only one jerk of a finger away from death. He began speaking to me in a low, deceptively soft voice which did nothing to conceal the menace “This is a real gun… believe me” Fearing he planned to silence me forever, I nodded yes shaking my head slightly… terrified of making a wrong move, crying harder.

“You know, you're a fucking cock-teaser, with those tits and all your sluttish underwear” the man told me. I felt something cold and hard pressed up against me. I knew it was the gun. The man laid the top of the barrel flat on my tight belly and then slowly slid it up underneath my bra and between my two breasts. “That's a mighty fine set of knockers you got there” he whispered to me. I closed my eyes and turned my face but still felt his hot breath blowing up against my cheeks. He moved the barrel of the gun over my face. I was scared to even breathe. Now he softly caressed my trembling lips with the cold steel, caressing them as gently as a lover's fingertip would. Suddenly his other hand gripped a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, simultaneously pushing the gun at my lips harder, hurting them.

“Suck on this you filthy whore” I couldn't believe he expected me to open my mouth so he could stick a gun in there! How could I? I fixed my eyes on his, trying to plead with him not to do this to me, but the only noise I could make was a soft high-pitched wail. More tears filled my eyes when I saw not a hint of mercy in his. He wanted to see me suck his gun barrel. For him, this was a fantasy, and I was nothing to him, not a person at all in that context. “P-p-please… I can't” I whispered.

“Do it bitch” I heard a click as he cocked the gun, “or I decorate the fucking walls with your useless brain!” That did it. With a gasping sob, I parted my lips somehow and felt the cold hard steel of the weapon being pushed into my mouth. The metallic oily taste was like death itself to me. His grip on my hair tightened as he started moving the gun in and out; pushing it harder and further inside each time, building speed. My mind couldn't let go of the knowledge that the gun was cocked, and any wrong move on his part or mine would be the end of me. I was so sure it would go off, I didn't bother praying that it wouldn't… I only prayed that I wouldn't feel it.

“Mmmm… Do a good job and maybe I'll fuck you with it later” he crooned. My eyes, wild with fright flew to him briefly. I was dismayed, but not really surprised to see his hand almost absently stroking the noticeable bulge in his pants.

“That's it whore… suck it!” his voice was tense, “How do you like it? How does it feel to suck Death's dick?” All I could do was hold still, keep my mouth open, and pray he would get tired of this deadly game soon. “I guess Death can wait a little while. Looks like my friend here wants to take his place.” With that he pulled the gun from my mouth to my shuddery sigh of relief.

“You are supposed to wake up from nightmares” I told myself. “Wake up!” I thought, then I realized this was no nightmare. It was real. The man loved this moment, this moment when I realised that this was no fantasy, that this was for real… and that there was no escape. He liked the look on my face, there was something about me, and he was going to enjoy this. He reached for the zip on his black jeans and slowly started to pull the zip down. The noise of his zip seemed unnaturally loud in the silence of the quiet house. The man was angry that I refused to look at him; he wanted to see the fear on my face as he exposed himself. “Don't you want to see what I have for you? Look at me... look at my black cock... you fucking slut!” his voice was hoarse with passion and twisted lust.

I shook my head violently and stared fixedly at a point on the carpet. His hand reached out and grabbed at my hair, pulling my head up. I yelled in pain and tried to pull his hand away from my dishevelled hair. He was too strong for me and I grimaced in pain as he held my hair tight, holding me so I could not help but look at him. Mutely I shook my head and shut my eyes, but the man saw the look of defiance in my blue eyes before I shut them.

“Still wanting to play silly games cock-teaser? If you are not a good girl then you are a bad girl… and do you know what happens to bad girls? They get… well, let's say that you will find out what happens to bad girls!” the man said, a note of cruelty in his voice that caused more tears to run down my cheeks.

I felt a sudden urge to vomit as I saw how the front of his underwear was bunched up with a massive erection. The man pulled his cock out of his jeans. A thick bush of curling black pubic hair surrounded a massive erection that looked more like some huge club than a human organ. His massive scrotum was drawn up tight with need making it look like a black wrinkled baseball bat. In my mind I could already see myself being ravaged by the bestial looking member. His cock was already hard and throbbing for release, t he erect rape monster was already leaking pre-cum from its velvet tip . He leaned forward and I flinched and let out a small cry as he rubbed his black cock over my face, pre-cum leaving a trail over my face. The man sighed loudly in satisfaction at the feel of my smooth skin on his hard cock.

Still holding me by the hair he reached down with his free hand and grasped his cock and stroked it, he shuddered in pleasure and anticipation. H e was gripping the largest cock that I had ever seen. It must have been over ten inches long and as big around as a soda bottle. I shook my head violently as I twisted and pulled at the plastic tie holding me prisoner as the now naked intruders approached me.

He grabbed my hair and twisted my head sideways, his cum covered cock rubbing over my lips, his cum dribbling down my chin. I mumbled back, trying to avoid the sticky cum on my lips. Some of the thick, salty fluid entered my mouth and I almost choked on the bad tasting fluid. I sucked a few penises before, but I didn't like it all: miserable experiences, all-embarrassing, I found giving head such a humiliating experience. Not that I just didn't want to do it, I even tasted a man's cum once and hated it so badly, it tasted like really salty, stale milk. After that one time, I vowed that I wouldn't let another man ever cum in my mouth. I clamped my lips tight. Never would I suck his cock. Never would his cum fill my mouth. “Suck my cock snot-nosed cunt” he laughed softly at my horrified expression “I want that aristocratic mouth of yours wrapped around my black dick”

“Open up classy cock-sucker, I'm going to stick my black cock into your ambitious mouth and you're going to swallow whatever it happens to spit at you… and remember, no teeth!” this last remark was accompanied by a vicious twist of my blond hair which caused me to open my mouth to cry out in pain.

This was what the man was hoping for and pushing forward he pressed his cock into my open mouth. My eyes were wide open in shock while my mouth was filled with over six inches of hard cock, my red painted lips wrapped so tight around the massive weapon that I thought they would tear. I t was so big, my jaws felt like they would break, I couldn't even bite, it was that big . My body was being bent backwards, I had to put my bound arms out behind me to keep from falling over. The taste repulsed me and I felt so humiliated. Mercilessly he pulled on my hair and fed me more of his cock.

He laughed in triumph as I could barely stretch my jaws apart to accommodate his girth and I gagged while swallowing at least nine inches of his massive meaty dick, and started to push in and out of my mouth. I tried to pull my head back to escape him but he held my head in a vice like grip. I tried to scream but it only made him tighten his grip on my hair and push his cock further down my throat. The sound of my revulsion as I was forced to suck his cock filled the room, while my mouth was pervaded with the salty taste of his pre-cum. I could feel the huge veins running up the side, the mushroom head pushing farther into the hot confines of my nearly virgin mouth.

My tongue moved over the cock trying to push it out, it jumping in response, pleasuring him instead. He put his other leg over the other side of my body, his hand behind my head as he filled my mouth with his raping weapon, grunting as he pumped in and out of my mouth. I gagged and choked each time he pumped it hard into the back of my mouth, my choking and gagging milking his cock effectively, the mushroom head jamming to enter my tiny throat.

“UUUUHHH!!!” he shouted as he pumped my mouth, his hard stomach pounding painfully against my nose, his heavy laden balls banging against my chin. I gagged as he began to push it deeper and deeper into my throat. He grasped my jaw, tilted my head back, and pressed harder. My throat protested, resisted, and then with a hard gulp opened, giving passage to his rigid tool. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of my throat, he could tell by the way I was gagging that I had never had a cock in my throat before and he was glad he was the one to break the rich white bitch in.

His cock was now forced deep into my throat, his hand running down to my neck, playing with the string of pearls I was wearing around it and feeling his cock deep in me. I gasped and gagged, unable to breathe as his cock forced open my throat. My rapist withdrew his cock from my throat, allowing me to quickly grab some air before beginning its painful journey back into my throat. It hurt each time he fucked into me, his body smashing into my face, I was retching and couldn't breathe. But he did not care about my pain, only his pleasure. He moved my head up and down his cock by my hair “Suck it good bitch, come on you can do better than that. You don't want me to start spanking you, do you?” Even with his cock in my mouth he could hear my protest. But the last I wanted was a slap on my ass. The cock in my mouth was growing bigger and bigger and I was careful not to let my teeth in the way, what would he do to me then? I didn't have a chance with my hands tied like they were. Wrapping his hands in my hair, he began to fuck my face furiously, slamming so deep that my nose was pressed into his pubic hair. This was no ‘blowjob'; he was just using me, raping my mouth, fucking my face in a savage thrusting rhythm.

The excitement he had felt in anticipation of this moment made him cum very quickly. The masked man began to moan, his thrusts getting harder, faster. His cock swelled, choked me further, and I realized with horror what was going to happen. I'd never let him do it. Never. I tried to back away but he shoved my head down into his crotch, forcing me to keep his cock in my mouth, his strong hands firmly holding my head in place. And then it exploded in my mouth, my throat, hot, sour. The brutal assault climaxed for the masked man in a pulsating, throbbing gush of cum that flooded my mouth. Slamming into my face, driving down my throat, his cock exploded, coursing hot, sour cum in my mouth, down my throat. He dumped his load of cum in my mouth, filling it with his foul tasting semen.

There was so much of it, and it tasted so bad: I couldn't spit, felt like I was drowning. So I swallowed. Over and over, I swallowed his sickening cum. My belly jumped, threatened to rebel, but I fought to keep it down, afraid I would choke to death if it came up. It seemed to never end, I choked and gagged, his cock forcing the voluminous cum down my throat like a battering ram.

He forced my head to his belly, cock deep in my throat, ensuring I swallowed every drop. I cried around his huge, spewing tool, struggling not to vomit, to swallow, to breathe. As his dick became limp, he pulled out, the last of his cum splattering my face, my sweet, pretty cheeks. I was gasping, hacking as it dripped in my eyes, ran down my cheeks. The man smiled in triumph as he watched my eyes again flood with tears of shame and humiliation as cum flowed down my chin to drip onto my satin top and onto the carpet. “Swallow it you ungrateful bitch! Swallow my cum!” he snarled. As he said these burning words he tightened his grip in my hair and tilted my head back so I had no choice to swallow or choke. As the last of his cum dripped from his cock into my mouth he watched as I swallowed again and again, my face a mask of horror and revulsion. I felt so degraded, sucking his penis on my knees like a cheap prostitute, wrists bound behind me, cum all over my face, my mouth still remembering the taste of his sperm.

“Enjoying the taste my dear? Want some more? Well, we will see how much more of my ‘love' you can take...” as he said these words he loosened his grip of my hair and I slumped to the floor, coughing and retching, flecks of cum and spittle splattering the carpet. The masked man was breathing heavily, his hands on his hips. He looked down at me now crying softly, my body shaking with my sobbing. He nudged me backside with his boot, “Now let's admire the rest of your apartment. I do appreciate your hospitality cocksucker, but, you know, my mother always warned me to watch out for women of dubious reputation, so I will have to check you out first before accepting the invitation.” He reached down and dragged me to my feet; he put his arm around me in a parody of compassion and concern. “By the way, how was that for you?” he laughed at his ‘joke' but I did not respond.