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Serial Rape Robert
by Tallus
Non-consensual sex, bondage, humiliation, torture, pain and a pizza guy.
First of all, let me say that the gag is completely unnecessary and Robert knows it. He's such an asshole that he won't listen to me when I tell him it was Tara who said something when we were on one of his "sessions" he's so fond of. Actually, he knows it was Tara, I think, but he likes that I hate being gagged so he makes me sit there with my mouth filled wanting to tell him that I am disgusted with him.
Let me explain what happened with Tara. Robert had been fucking her for about a week and I could see how things were going. She was getting more possessive of him and he was going to have to quit pretending to be the nice, sensitive Robert, which he certainly isn't, and either cut her loose or let her in on his real personality. When he decided to let her in on how it would be with him he brought her along on one of his outings. He calls them "sessions," the police call them sexual batteries.
First, Tara didn't like it when he picked me up at my house. I jumped into the car and sized up his new bitch he'd told me so much about. She was five foot six, dark hair and eyes, big tits under a tube top and slim legs. Her miniskirt was riding up so high that even from the back seat I knew she was flashing her little panties at him.
"This is Molly," he said to introduce me to her, "she already knows who you are."
"Why is Molly here?"
I knew he wouldn't answer her question. He didn't like being questioned. I jumped in to answer. "Has he told you what this is about?"
She turned and eyed me in the back seat like I smelled like an open sewer.
"He told me," she said, "don't you know?"
I ignored that and asked him instead, "What’s the vic's name?"
"Who the fuck cares?"
Tara's eyes narrowed at the word "vic." I could see the wheels turning but she didn't say anything.
We rode in silence for quite a little while after that.
Before I tell you about the “session,” let me tell you about Robert.
Robert likes fucking in the afternoon. Some guys are night guys, some guys are morning guys, and Robert’s an afternoon guy. Don’t misunderstand me. Robert likes fucking any time he can get his dick wet. He can't get enough pussy. But he is primarily an afternoon guy. He likes to call me up at the magazine where I work and make me pretend to be sick so I can come home so he can fuck me. It's a wonder I keep a job. No amount of sex, morning, evening or afternoon and no amount of his abuse directed my way seems to satisfy him. Only "sessions" can keep him happy in the long run. Once a session is done he becomes his alter ego, nice guy, Mellow Robert for a little while. I appreciate that because when he is Mean Robert I can really hurt.
But I digress.
Our silent drive ended when we turned into the parking lot of an apartment unit in the early afternoon on a cool but sunny day.
"Should be a blond doing laundry," Robert said. At least he had scoped this out a little. "She always does laundry on Thursday."
I got out of the car. I knew what to do. I gripped the gun inside my purse and went to find the laundry room. I knew he and Tara would be having a little talk in the car. He would tell her what he had brought her to see and she would probably freak out and he would knock the shit out of her and then she would behave herself.
A good-looking blond bitch, long legs, nice ass and fake tits was loading wet undies into a dryer. I only stayed long enough to make sure the place was otherwise empty then turned and walked back to the car.
"She's got some dryers going," I reported. Oddly, Tara wasn't crying, her lips wasn't bleeding, she didn't have any red marks on her cheeks. She looked excited. I was surprised, of course so I asked him, "Did you tell her?"
"He told me. This will be awesome!"
Not for the blond, I thought. For the bitch in the laundry room this was going to be a trip to hell.
"We'll wait near her door. Make sure she shows up." Robert was all business. I could see his hard dick outlined in his jeans.
"She was alone when I saw her."
"Then bring her."
I hate waiting, too. They got out and went to her apartment while I returned to the laundry room. I made sure no one was coming and I walked in. The tall blond was still alone.
"Hi," she offered when she noticed me.
"Hello." I walked straight over and stuck the gun in her face. She didn't scream right away because, from the looks of things, she was too afraid. But then her expression slowly changed. "Don't scream," I ordered. I could see she was edging that direction, "I just want your money."
"I only have some quarters," she said in a breathy, shaky little blond voice.
"Let's try your apartment."
I walked close behind her with the gun in my purse.
"If you make a sound I'll shoot you. You wouldn't believe how many people get away with murder every year."
Robert and Tara were not in sight when we got to her door but they were right behind me as soon as she'd keyed the lock and opened the door. Robert launched himself into the apartment right behind her and knocked her to the floor. He sat on her back. I got some of the blonde’s panties and pantyhose from a drawer in the bedroom and he used them to tie her wrists behind her back and her ankles together. He stuffed the panties in her mouth to gag her.
Then he brought two chairs from the kitchen. I stripped all my clothes off and folded them neatly making a small pile next to one of the chairs. Tara looked at me oddly. This was Robert's nuttiness, these sessions, as she was about to learn.
"Strip," he told her.
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Tara glared at me, short, blond, naked but resigned and took her clothes off. Robert made us sit in the chairs where he secured our wrists and ankles to the chair with plastic twist ties, the kind you get with very big garbage bags. Then he pulled out his pocketknife. He sharpened the fucking thing every day like his life depended on it.
My pussy never starts pumping pussy juice until the victim sees the knife. The fear is electric and it goes right to my nipples and cunt. When he flipped her on her back, practically at our feet, and showed her the blade her eyes opened wide, her head shook violently from side to side and she peed her panties. My pussy caught fire.
Robert cut her shirt off. He cut her bra off. He sawed through her urine drenched running shorts and cut away the wet panties, too. She trembled in terror and made odd bleating noises and shook her head no a lot but it just made Robert happier than he already was. I wished he would just get between those long legs of hers and fuck her but I knew he wouldn't. He had a session to do, after all.
He pulled her into a sitting position by her long blond hair. BANG! He shot a fist into her right eye. The eye swelled shut like a balloon blowing up. She looked utterly stunned. He punched her left eye too for good measure. Her eyes were swollen slits, useless to her.
"Jesus!" Tara blurted it out.
See, Tara said that, not me. Robert looked at both of us as if he didn't know his new bitch's voice or something. He had a firm rule, no talking from the chicks in the chairs.
Robert lowered the blond onto her back. Even though her ankles were tied he was still able to force her knees apart. He got between her legs, opened his pants, and hauled out his respectably sized cock. He had used it on me many times and, believe me, it was more than adequate for the job. I hated that he had fucked Tara with it, too. In fact, I wished he was using it on me right at that minute.
He concentrated on her expression as he opened her vaginal slit with his fingers and got the tip of his hard dick inside of her. She had already surrendered to the inevitable and didn’t struggle. She turned her head to try to look at me and Tara tied to our chairs through her swollen eyes and waited to be impaled. He lay forward on top of her but didn't yet sink it into her cunt.
Then he did something new, something I had not seen him do before. As he forced his cock into her trimmed little cunt he pushed the tip of the knife blade into the base of her tit.
"MMMMMMMMFFFFFFFF!!!!" She screamed and screamed, shaking her head and squirming underneath him. It got to him, I know, because he immediately shot his load.
“OH YEAH!” He lunged into her. It was something, too, because he usually fucked them for a little while before he shot.
He didn't run the knife deep enough to puncture her fake tit but it looked and sounded like it hurt a lot. There was blood streaming down her chest as he banged away inside of her with his semi-rigid cock. He yanked his cock out and smeared his seed and her juices on her pussy lips for Tara and me to see.
Bravo.
Finished with her now, he got off of her and left her swollen and bleeding on the floor. He let Tara and I out of our bondage. We got dressed and put the chairs back where they went. Robert cut the blond loose of her ties.
"I know you will want to call the cops," he said, "but don't. If you do, I will be back. Next time I'll cut your tits off and make you eat them before I fuck you. Do you understand me?"
She was still gagged so she shook her head no, apparently agreeing not to call the cops, but who knows? Anyway, Robert didn't want to stick around and sign a contract or something with her. He had delivered his message. We took a quick look around for stray clothing and got the hell out of there.
In America, at least 75% and probably more rapes are never reported. Rapes by strangers are more commonly reported than are date or acquaintance rapes and they are also the rarest. It is hard to find a suspect in a stranger rape even if you have a lot of evidence like pubic hairs, semen, and an artist's sketch. Robert doesn't think he's been reported. There has never been a report published in the paper that I have seen, even in the crime blotter section. It makes him horribly smug and extremely dangerous.
Back in the car Tara was so excited she almost wet her pants. "That was incredible!" Tara gushed. The bitch wore a bright smile and her perky little nipples were visible under her top.
"Didn't Robert tell you not to talk?" I was trying to remind him now that the stupid bitch was the one that broke the no talking rule. She had spoken in the apartment, I hadn’t, and I hoped he realized that.
"She was terrified! God, she peed her pants!" Tara gave us a recap like we hadn't been there. "And when you socked her? Wham! It was awesome!"
"Save it," I told her.
Again we rode in silence. He took us back to his place. Once inside we opened a bottle of wine and kicked back in the living room, Tara and I on the couch, Robert in the recliner. It was clear that Tara didn't want me there and she obviously wanted to ask about my relationship with Robert. Having just seen him rape and stab an innocent woman, however, she was being careful with him. I gave her some points for not being a complete imbecile.
"Molly gets really hot," Robert told Tara, humiliating me, "she usually needs a good hard fucking after a session like that."
"Maybe she should go see her boyfriend," Tara, who obviously needed a good, hard fucking herself remarked. She eyed me coolly, her expression saying, get the hint, bitch? Leave.
She just wanted time with him but I needed time alone with Robert. I wasn’t going to try to explain it to her, the cunt.
"Will you give me a ride home?" I asked him. At first he smiled at me then he stood up.
"More wine, Tara," he wasn't asking; he sort of told her.
"Sure." He poured more for her. They smiled at each other. He poured nothing for me. He looked at me with hard eyes.
"Stand up," he commanded me.
"At home," I pleaded, "please, Robert?"
"Stand up."
I stood. Tara looked very confused. Robert pulled me by the arm around the end of the couch next to where Tara sat. I started to cry but I was getting so fucking hot and the son of a bitch knew it, too. I needed his cock in me so badly I was getting ready to beg for it.
"What's going on?" Tara obviously sensed something crazy was happening.
"Just watch," Robert replied. Then to me he said, "Open your pants."
"Robert?"
"Do it now."
"Please?" I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. He pushed on my upper back and I lowered my head over the arm of the couch with my face right next to Tara's lap.
"Wow," she breathed.
I felt so humiliated. It was bad enough he enjoyed doing this to me but displaying my humiliation for his new girlfriend crossed the line. He tugged my jeans down to my knees. He nudged my knees apart as far as the pants allowed and slid a hand along my crotch.
"You're wet," he said, rubbing the crotch panel. His touch felt like an electric current applied to my clit.
I didn't say a thing. What could I say? He was right my cunt was dripping juices. He slowly pulled my panties down, baring my ass. He ran his rough pants across the smooth flesh of my backside. I shivered and wiggled my ass for him. I couldn't help it. I hoped he would get to it right away. I needed it so badly I could barely stand still. I wanted to jam my fingers inside myself and give myself some relief.
"Come here, Tara." The little bitch hopped up and joined him behind me. "Feel her slit," he said," she's dripping."
"Ewww, no! I don't think so," like it disgusted her. Like the little whore didn't spend her time with her fingers jammed in her own slit.
I could tell he let her take in what would be his hard expression, let her remember he just brutally raped and stabbed a woman. I could feel her sudden nervousness at his unpredictability. I felt her finger part my swollen pussy lips. It felt so fucking good.
"Ooooohhhh," she breathed, “she’s sopping.” I guess he made his point.
"Sit."
She sat next to me again. I waited for it. When "the sound" came, the whisper of his belt being drawn through the loops, I started to squirm. I couldn't wait for the first sharp blow that would bring the fire to my tender flesh. I couldn't wait for the pain to take me up to that level where the nerves are raw and the tiniest bit of friction would send me into orgasmic heaven. If he thought I was wet now, just wait, I thought. I wiggled my ass, I couldn't stand still and longer. The tradition was in place. He would beat me and fuck me and I would be in heaven. If only the cunt wasn't here to see it.
CRACK! The blow landed across my right butt cheek and the searing pain brought my head up off the couch. My hard nipples throbbed.
CRACK!
CRACK!
"Put your fucking head down!"
CRACK! CRACK!
The fire spread across my ass and the backs of my thighs.
CRACK! CRACK!
A wave of orgasm gripped me and I couldn't help myself. I started begging him to fuck me.
"Please Robert! Give me your cock! Please!"
CRACK! CRACK!
"Oh yes, please Robert, please put it in me!"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
"It hurts! It hurts! OUCH! Please baby, please!"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
I let my hips fall to the arm of the couch trying to get some friction on my clit, to bring the big orgasm, the one that would release me.
"Get your ass in the air!"
I could only babble now as he blistered my skin with vicious blows, babbled senselessly about him ramming it inside my hot hole, about him fucking me until I died, about being his fuck whore.
"You're killing her!"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
He tossed the belt onto my face, which was pressed hard against the inside of the arm of the couch. I smelled the leather. Now it would come, now he would open his pants and haul out his big cock and impale me with it. Now he would send me to heaven with a hard fucking while my ass felt as if a hot lead had been poured on it.
Instead, deviating from the script, cheating me horribly, betraying me completely he sat next to the bitch on the couch.
"Keep your fucking head down, Molly."
I couldn't see what was happening but I could hear it. He was kissing her. They began kissing and feeling each other on the couch. He made sure I knew that, too.
"Feel my cock," he would say.
"Mmmmm," she would answer.
"You got great tits."
And so on.
They adjusted their positions and I heard clothes coming off. There I stood, bent over, my ass red and stinging, pussy juices running down my inner thighs while they stripped on the couch next to me. He pushed her thighs open. Her bent leg rested against the back of my head, his idea no doubt, and the weight of her leg on my head increased as he changed position on the couch. He entered her. In a way, I felt it slide in.
"OOOOHHHHH!" She cooed, "God that feels good!"
I cried harder. She was getting the fucking I had earned, the one I deserved. I hated her.
"Tight... fucking... cunt," he grunted.
They started moving on the couch and the motion of her leg against my head picked up a rhythm as he fucked her. I could smell her pussy and her sweat. I wondered where the belt had migrated to as they fucked nearly on top of me.
Her moans and groans became louder as the tempo increased until she was begging him between inarticulate sounds. "Oh, yes! Mmmmmmmm, fuck me! Un huh, un huh, un huh! Harder baby, fuck me really hard! Yes! Ooooohhhh, mmmmmmm, OOOOOOWWWWWW!!! I'm gonna cum! I'm cumming! Harder! MMMMMMM!!"
She made a high-pitched, squealing sound and I could picture her, legs wide, his cock a piston in and out of her wet hole, her head thrown back in orgasm as he pounded in and out of her. Then I heard his deeper gasp and, of course, I recognized the sound. The weight on the couch shifted and her leg was yanked off my head. In a second wet drops hit my cheek and as the drops became thick spatters I realized he was ejaculating on my face and hair.
"Wicked," she said, glee in her voice, trying to catch her breath.
He chuckled, "she's a whore, isn't she?"
Eventually he was done with her so he let her get dressed. Then pulled her around behind me to inspect the damage the belt had done to my ass.
"It must hurt so much," she said, but she didn't sound like she cared too much.
"She likes it."
"I could tell."
"Get dressed, Molly," he ordered me.
I pulled my underwear and pants up and glared at him, his cum still dripping from my hair. He knew why I was staring hate daggers at him. He'd given away my fucking. He owed me one. Then the son of a bitch drove me home. I masturbated all fucking night with a vibrator and, you know, it didn't help one bit.
Robert's next session was not planned which is a very stupid thing. I was with him at a restaurant where we were waiting for Tara. It was a month after we'd done the blond at the apartment and he and Tara were still an item. I still hated her guts, too, after she'd participated in my humiliation the last time. She acted like she was superior to me in every way.
Tara showed up about the same time this little oriental girl came in alone. I saw Robert staring at her and I could sense his hunger for her. He kept checking her out as he hurried us through the lunch. We were in the parking lot having eaten a quick meal when the oriental chick came out of the restaurant.
She was short, black hair, tiny little tits dressed in white Capri pants and a blue silk top. She had to be in her late twenties and she was skinny as a rail. I hoped she knew karate or something but I didn't think it would matter if she did.
"Do you have your gun?"
"Yes," I answered him.
"Put her car behind the building. We'll use the van."
I approached her on foot as she made for her car, appropriately a black Nissan, in the lot. I caught up to her at her car door just as she opened it. I was pretending to be digging in my purse.
"Do you have a light?"
"I don't smoke," she said. She said it kind of forcefully and I didn't like that. I didn't actually smoke, after all, and who was she to judge me? I showed her the gun.
"Lean in across the seat and don't make a sound."
"How do you mean?"
"Lean in or I'll kill you right here, right now."
She leaned into the car and I pulled the back seat forward to pin her against the wheel as I climbed into the backseat. Then I made her get in and drive us behind the restaurant. I hooked an arm over her eyes so she wouldn't see the van turn the corner and come up behind the Nissan. Tara appeared a moment later and helped me blindfold her. We shoved her into the van and took off.
On the drive she kept trying to talk to us and plead with us to let her go. I finally found a rag and stuffed it in her mouth. I took her money out of her wallet, noting when I saw her driver's license her name was Nicki Choi, which is a cool name, and that she was indeed twenty-nine years old as I had guessed.
Robert stopped outside of town off of a dirt road under a tree and climbed into the back.
He gave Tara and me an expectant look. We got the hint and took our clothes off. Robert laid us across the fold down back seat and tied us up facing forward in the van so we could watch him rape her. Then the son of a bitch gagged us with each other's panties. He got a kick out of that. "For talking the last time," he explained. I couldn't argue because Tara's panties were in my mouth. But this was so unfair. Tara had shot her mouth off, not me.
Robert removed the gag from Nicki's mouth. She was blindfolded but her hands and feet were free and I wondered about that.
"I have a knife," he told her. "I'm going to cut you with it in a minute, just a scratch to let you know I really have one."
"I believe you." Her husky voice trembled and she was shaking like a leaf.
"Don't talk anymore unless I tell you to." He helped her sit up then got her to her knees facing him. We had to look past him to see her lower lip trembling. "Now, take off your clothes for me."
"Please don't," she begged.
My pussy juices flowed.
BANG! His fist shot into her left tit.
"OW!" She doubled over in pain covering her wounded breast with her arms.
"I told you not to talk," he hissed, "now strip."
She caught her breath and straightened up enough to pull her top off. She wore a dark blue bra that looked so sexy against her lightly tanned chest. That came off next revealing her tiny breasts. Even her nipples were miniature, dark, round cherries.
"Everything," he said.
She struggled out of the tight Capri pants and removed her white cotton panties. I could only catch glimpses of her sparsely haired black pubic region. Robert opened his pants. From behind him I couldn't see the erection but I could conjure that angry, veined organ in my minds eye. He rested the tip of the knife on her already bruised nipple.
"Can you feel that I have a knife?"
"Yes."
He increased the force behind the blade until blood appeared and dripped down her breast.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"
"It hurts you?"
"Yes!"
He wiggled the knife around sinking it a bit deeper. More blood dripped down.
"Oooowww!"
Then he grabbed her behind the head and pressed the blade to her throat. He pulled her head forward, careful not to actually cut her, until his face was in his lap.
"Suck it, bitch."
She took him in her mouth and he forced her head lower and lower until she gagged and choked on his cock. He held her there as she fought for air, thrusting himself into her throat as she fought him. He was beside himself with happiness. He let her get a breath and then fucked her face while she struggled and choked. When he leaned back I could see the glistening of saliva on her face. As he leaned back I noticed from little glimpses I caught that his cock and his thighs were wet with her slobber.
He shoved her backwards. "That's enough," he said. Robert gagged her with her own panties and made her get on her hands and knees, her face not far from mine. He took a position behind her, between her legs, his hands on her hips. I didn't need her blindfold removed to read her mixed expression of humiliation, pain and fear.
I saw his hands working between her legs then he grabbed her hips and thrust his cock forward.
"MMMMMMFFFFFFFFF!!!!" Her scream as he split her pussy open, driving his hard-on into her depths, was incredibly loud even though she was gagged. My pussy was throbbing with need, my nipples were hard, and I needed what she was getting against her will.
He fucked her with hard, short strokes and I watched the expressions of agonizing pain and deep humiliation alternate on what I could see of her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks from under the blindfold. He stopped fucking her and I assumed he was going to shoot across her ass and we would be done. Instead, he pushed her rump down a bit and raised himself up. Oh my gosh, I thought, here we go.
"No, no, no." I could make out her muffled words he poked the tip of his cock into her anus.
If anything, her scream was even louder when he impaled her with his stiff cock. He drove his dick forcefully down into her rectum and yanked backwards on her hips at the same time.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! OOOOOWWWWWW!!!" The gag did little to muffle her screaming as he drove it into her again and again. He finally thrust deep inside of her and held her ass against himself as he shot his load into her bowels. By then she had nearly lost consciousness, from the looks of things.
Done with her, he spun her around like a rag doll and let Tara and I watch his cum and her blood seep from her torn rectum.
When he was satisfied with the session he untied Tara and me and let the girl, Nicki, get dressed.
"I think I'll kill her," he said in a musing voice while she tried to hook her bra behind her with trembling hands.
"No, you won't." I challenged him, shaking my head, "Absolutely not."
He looked angry for a split second before his expression lightened and for a moment he gave me an insincere half grin. "Just kidding, obviously" he said. I felt a chill. I didn't think he'd been kidding at all.
We drove the girl back to town and dropped her near the address on her driver's license. This one would make the papers, I was positive, because the crotch area in her white Capri pants was stained with blood when we kicked her out of the van.
"You better make up something good for the hospital people," Robert threatened as he shoved her out of the van, "or I'll be back to ass fuck you with the blade."
I didn't feel sorry for her until later. At the moment I had my own cravings to worry about. More than anything, at that moment, I wanted to feel the intense sting of Robert's leather belt followed by his hard cock entering my sopping wet hole. He'd cheated me last time and this time I wanted my due.
My relationship with Robert had started after I split with the most recent in a long string of short love affairs. I was dating these so-called great guys. They were nice to me, sensitive, caring, supportive and the rest. I couldn't understand why I wasn't satisfied. After all, my friends had date after date with guys they described as jerks because they lacked those very qualities. But I would get restless and bored in the relationship always finding fault. When I would stop even pretending I enjoyed the sex the relationship invariably slid into the toilet.
Robert was different. At first we dated and screwed on occasion and it was fine, but no bells and lights went off. A few weeks into our relationship, though, he suggested some light bondage. He tied me to the corners of the bed, ate my pussy and fucked me silly. I loved it. I loved giving him control of my body, loved his confidence and dominance. I loved his hard cock drilling me when I could only lie there and take it.
The pain came later. At first, he would tie me down and twist my nipples while he fucked me. I liked the sensation. The jolts of pain paired with his ramming cock lifted me to a higher plateau as long as he didn't over do it. He started varying the routine and I loved that too. He would tie my hands and do me doggy style while he slapped my ass cheeks. I can't begin to tell you how many screaming orgasms he jerked out of my body and soul by pounding into my wet cave from behind while he blistered my rump.
I willingly became his little whore. He would make me beg to be spanked. He made me humiliate myself to get him to use me. I would have to kneel and push my ass in the air and take down my panties then wiggle my ass and beg him for a spanking. The mix of conflicting emotions, degradation and excitement, humiliation and pain made me so fucking horny. I would get so wet. He would smear the juices around my inner thighs and call me a slut and a whore. Then he would fuck me and hurt me until I was screaming in orgasmic bliss. I figured I was twisted and sick until one of my girlfriends told me that after two years with her boyfriend she'd finally experienced the thrill of her first orgasm. After hearing that I didn't care how messed up I was.
Robert never let me live with him, though. We kept our own places and I allowed myself to believe he didn't have any other women in his life. The truth was that he had many. He had women he dated and I think he probably was responsible for several rapes even while he and I were dating. I had no one else, of course. How would I find another who understood my fucked up character so well?
I held myself ready for his calls. At first he would call for a date, take me to dinner or a movie or something then take me back to his place where we would get into our sexual world. When the dates tapered down and we started going right into the sexual stuff I didn't mind too much. Like he was and like most men are I suppose, I wasn't in it for love. I was in it for the orgasms. Still, I depended on him and thought of him as faithful to me as well.
He started to call me at odd hours and demand I come over. I would quickly dress and go to him to be hurt, humiliated and ravaged. That's when he started calling me at work and making me take the day off. I would tell my boss I was sick and I would rush to his house. There, he would degrade me horribly, hurt me and make my mind real with intense sexual pleasure. I was his all hours of the day or night.
The belt came about on just such an occasion. He called early on a Saturday morning and told me to come over.
"I just woke up," I said, "I'll be over in an hour, okay?"
"No. Get over here right away."
"Sure."
But I didn't. I ate some cereal, brushed my teeth, showered, dressed and showed up an hour and fifteen minutes after he called. I arrived fed, rested, clean and very wet with pussy juices.
He met me at the door. It opened just as I arrived and he stuck his head out looking frustrated and a bit angry.
"Took you awhile," he said in a cold tone, his eyes hard.
"I said it would take an hour."
He grunted and motioned me inside. He took me into the bedroom where he had me cross my arms over my stomach and lie across the bed with me head dangling over one end and my feet across the other. Then I heard "the sound" for the first time. "The sound" is the whisper his wide leather belt makes as he pulls it from the belt loops. A whisper-snick, whisper-snick sound that carries the promise of searing pain to come. On that Saturday, lying on my arms across his bed I knew it was his belt I was hearing but I thought he was just stripping out of his clothing.
He draped the belt across the bed so it was next to my face. I could smell the leather. My cunt was already on fire. I just knew he was going to be fucking me in a minute, slapping my ass and drilling me. And, consistent with what I thought was about to happen, he lifted my hips and unbuttoned my jeans, which he slid down my legs and removed. His hands rubbed my ass cheeks through my panties and worked their way down between my legs.
"Are you my whore?"
"Yes."
"That's all you are, too, right?"
"Yes."
He yanked my panties off, too. Then he came around to where my head was draped off the side of the bed.
"Open your legs."
I held my thighs wide apart. What was going on? He picked up the belt then straddled my head, his knees pressed on either side holding my head like a vise. With my arms crossed beneath me I could only move my legs, which he had commanded me to hold open.
My beating started.
CRACK! The report was muffled, as was my scream. The leather cracked across my ass and left a swath of fire that made me shriek. I clamped my legs together. He freed my head from the leg clamp for only a moment.
"Don't even think about closing your legs again," he said. I had never heard his voice like this before. I hoped he didn't kill me. I opened my legs, trembling with fear. The area where he had hit me with the belt throbbed. His thighs clamped my head again. I tensed.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
My ass turned into a lake of fire. The pain was intense and I cried and struggled as best I could and screamed. Between blows I begged him to stop.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
I sobbed and pleaded to no avail. He worked the belt down my thighs and across my lower back. He carefully placed several blows across my tender, swollen, wet pussy lips, which made me howl in agony. It felt as if a candle flame was singing my pussy lips.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
I became aware of the spreading wetness underneath my writhing body. My cunt was running like a tap that had been left on in the sink. Even with his legs pressed to my face I could tell the air was thick with the smell of sweat and pussy.
"PLEASE STOP, ROBERT! PLEASE! GOD IT HURTS! PLEASE!" I begged and sobbed all the while thinking how turned on I was and how much I wanted his cock inside my throbbing hole.
Then the panties fell out.
I guess it was my struggle on the bed that finally moved the bedding enough but a woman's floral patterned panties fell from the bed to the floor right beneath my face. I was stunned. I stopped squirming. The beating ended.
When he released my head and backed up he saw the panties. I was staring at them, all the while aware of my pain, my awkward, open-legged position on the bed, my throbbing need to be fucked. I was confused, hurt, hurting, needing.
He picked them up and squatted down next to my face. I watched him handled the woman's intimates.
"From last night," he said. He held the crotch panel to his nose, sniffed, smiled. "She was a pretty good fuck."
I was already crying from the beating. I added tears for this. He pressed the panties to my face. I could smell her scent, the light perfume, and the heavy earthiness of her pussy.
"I brought her home and fucked the shit out of her," he said. "In fact, she was just leaving when I called you."
The son of a bitch, I thought. I felt humiliated, betrayed. It made me hornier, if that were possible. I wanted it so badly now. I tried to rub my pussy on the bedspread but I couldn't get any friction.
He fit the panties over my head with my nose in the crotch panel. I looked ridiculous, I knew. He went around behind me, forced my thighs wider apart and rammed his cock in me with a viscous thrust. It felt so fucking good! My cunt pulsed, grabbing his hard dick with vice-like force and orgasmic waves ripped through me with such intensity I think I lost consciousness. I awoke screaming with searing pain and incredible pleasure. I wanted it to go on and on forever.
He rode me like an animal, his hard body slamming against my abused back side, his cock pounding into me like a an out of control machine, speeding faster and faster. The force of his thrusts drove his dick into my tender cervix bruising and battering, hurting, thrilling. Eventually he pulled his cock from my steaming cunt and pushed just the tip into my puckered asshole and injected me with his hot sperm. I collapsed, completely exhausted.
The belt and that woman's panties changed our relationship that day. The belt became a regular part of our sex life. The spankings no longer took me to the plateau I wanted. I started to plead with him to beat me with his belt and fuck me all the while feeling betrayed and estranged from him after learning of his relationship with the other woman. I realized it meant not another woman but other women. I grew emotionally distant from him. We settled into a pattern of seeing each other only occasionally for sexual reasons.
But we became closer again when he started taking me out to watch him commit rape.
After we left Nicki, the oriental girl, bleeding into her white Capris we went to Robert's place. While Tara ordered a pizza using the phone in the kitchen Robert made me undress in the living room.
"Do you want the belt?"
"You know I do."
"You're a whore, Molly," he smiled, "a worthless little piece of shit."
"Please send her home."
He didn't say anything as I kicked my jeans into a corner and hooked my thumbs in my panties. When I was naked he told me to get my collar. He'd begun making me wear a black dog collar when I was over. I hated the thing but I went and buckled it around my throat.
When I returned he and Tara were standing in the living room kissing. I hated her.
Robert had me stand on the coffee table with my fingers laced together behind my head. He and Tara used bright red lipstick to write on my skin. Tara painted my lips big and clown like and wrote "COCKSUCKER" across my face. Robert wrote "WHORE" and "SLUT" and various things on me. Tara, obviously the more creative, wrote "FUCKHOLE" on my stomach and drew an arrow pointing to my crotch.
He had just finished writing something on my ass when a knock sounded on the door. Robert answered the knock and brought the pizza delivery guy in to see me. I dropped my hands to cover up but Robert's eyes said I'd better not so I raised my hands up again.
"Fuck!" He had to be about twenty and had obviously never seen anything like this.
"Let me show you something," Robert said. He pulled the kid forward. They stopped in front of me. Robert nudged my thighs open and showed the kid my swollen pussy lips and my wet slit. I felt so humiliated and embarrassed I wanted to run into the bedroom and hide. At the same time I knew I lived for this abuse.
"Wow!"
"Un huh. See how pink her slit is?"
"God!"
Tara was enjoying my shame immensely, the fucking bitch.
Robert paid for the pizza and sent Tara into the kitchen with the box. He pulled me down to my hands and knees on the table.
"Suck his cock, Molly."
The guy looked at me, like, is it okay? I unzipped his fly. Robert left to have pizza with Tara.
The pizza guy eyed me suspiciously and didn't move. I tugged him closer by the waistband of his jeans, opened his pants, lowered his boxers and took out a huge cock. I couldn't believe it. I had never seen a cock that big before, especially on a guy that wasn't especially big. His cock had to be ten inches long and it was fat, too, bulging with thick veins. I considered asking him to fuck me instead of me blowing him but I knew Robert would be furious.
He was young and anxious. I didn't suck him off as much as he fucked my face with his big tool. His rod went in and out of my gaping mouth as I tried to breath around his fat cock. He encouraged me.
"Suck it, baby," he cooed," Yeah, that's good."
He rammed it into my mouth and it forced my jaws wide enough to hurt. I sucked for all I was worth.
"Yeah! Ooooohhh, that's great!"
I pretended he had the monster in my snatch, splitting me, spreading me, impaling me. My cunt juices ran like my saliva, dripping from me as his dick hit the back of my throat.
Without warning he shot white-hot jets of cum into my mouth. I swallowed great gulps of his seed but much of it dripped from my lips onto the coffee table as he thrust and thrust into my face. I licked his cock and sucked like the whore I was as he wound down.
He fixed his pants over the waning pole and I felt a slight disappointment. What would it be like to settle onto his lap with that pole inside me? I made a mental note to find out where he worked.
"That was awesome," he said, "thanks."
His thanks sounded so out of place. I didn't answer him. He shrugged his shoulders, picked up his pizza bag and left.
Tara flounced into the room and sat on the couch. She was naked from the waist down and I was angry thinking Robert might have fucked her in the kitchen cheating me again. But she sat on the couch, legs wide open and masturbated with a dildo and watched Robert who had entered the room seconds behind her. He was removing his belt. I felt a wave of heat course through me. Here it comes, I thought, it's going to hurt so much. My cunt melted and ran.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
He hit me hard and fast, welting me, burning me, bruising me and making me hot for him.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The pain made me delirious. I was crying and begging him to stop. I wanted his cock. I needed his cock. I begged for his cock.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Tara's dildo pistoned in and out of her on the couch, glistening wet, flashes of pink, turning her cunt inside out, inside out, inside out.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
"PLEASE FUCK ME! PLEASE, PLEASE! STOP IT, STOP IT! IT HURTS SO MUCH! PLEASE FUCK ME!" I was sobbing, my cunt was gushing. Tara's dildo pistoned away.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Tara came, her head thrown back a high-pitched squeal emitting from her, her breasts heaved and her nipples pointed skyward. She rammed the dildo hard into her wet hole.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The belt hit the floor and suddenly his hands yanked my hips backward and his cock shot into my hot box. My screaming orgasm joined Tara's as I thrashed around on the table, his cock ramming and ramming and ramming into my sopping wet pussy. Flashes of lightening raced around inside my skull, jolts of electricity arc across my nipples. I shoved my burning rump back against his thrusts and felt my cunt walls contract and expand a thousand times a second, milking his cock inside me, bringing him to orgasm too. Juices splashed down my inner thighs and I wailed in sheer pleasure as he thrust hard and grunted loudly shooting thick ropes hot cum inside of me.
His pace slackened. The burning pain of my abused flesh replaced the intense high. Like pizza-boy had after he shot, Robert eventually wound down.
"Clean up and get the fuck out," he said, pulling his cock out of my needy little slit.
In a daze of pain and sexual fulfillment I dressed and headed home.
The first "session" Robert had taken me on was this college girl who he told me was house sitting for some doctor who was in Europe. She liked to party on weekends, he said, and had followed her from this college pub home several times.
"She gets a little loose," he grinned, meaning the liquor, "but hopefully she won't be too loose."
We followed her on a Friday night. She walked a little unsteadily from the bar to her Ford and drove a little unsteadily to the house she was watching. Robert passed her when it became clear she where she was headed.
The rest was simple. A brick fence surrounded the house but the gate was open. We walked up and waited in the shrubs by the front door. She parked, came to the door, used the key to open it and flung the door wide. Robert jumped her from behind and dragged her inside. I shut the door. We owned her.
Robert hadn't come up with his tied-to-a-chair nuttiness yet so I sat on the couch and watched. He showed her the knife, told her to keep quiet and told her to strip.
The knife scared her shitless. I got so hot when she reacted to it I started to squirm on the couch.
She was a tad chunky and had small tits. She had improved her body some with a padded bra and some thick support panties that held the stomach in. Her dark bush stood out starkly against her very, very white skin. Obviously, considering the bulky panty, she hadn't intended to bring a guy home that night. Unwittingly she had.
She didn't cry. She just stared at the blade, terror in her eyes, and did what he told her.
"Suck my cock."
She sucked.
"Lie back and open your legs."
She opened. She lay there her eyes staring far away as he lowered himself onto her, pried open her pussy lips with thumb and finger, and shoved his cock in her. She whimpered a little as he fucked her but otherwise gave him nothing. He came on her pubic hair. I rubbed the crotch of my jeans up and down on my wrists as I watched the show. My cunt throbbed with need by the time he finished with her.
He threatened her, warning her not to report the rape and we left. As far as I know, she never reported what had happened.
Robert took me home, beat me and fucked me. The night ended in shattering orgasm for both of us. In our own twisted way it was a perfect date.
Of course, the attack was amateur hour compared to what came later. On the first we were both scared and worried the whole time and for days after. We swore we wouldn't do that again. That would be his last rape if it weren't his first. I suspected, as I've said, that there had been others. Naturally, he took on more rapes.
The "best" one for me, the best “session” if such an immoral thing exists, was an attack on a woman named Diane. Robert didn't like that one because we took so much time but I have to tell you it was mind blowing. I don't even know where he found her but he showed up at my door one night, late, and made me get dressed. He drove us into the country, turned off on a dirt road and drove several miles back to a small cabin.
"Friend of mine goes hunting out here," he explained as we got out of the car. I was thinking romance until he popped the trunk open. A woman lay inside, bound and gagged, blindfolded and well dressed in a black dress and heels.
"I looked in her purse," he said as we stared down into the trunk, "her name's Diana."
We carried Diana into the cabin. She lay in a heap on the floor. By this time he had had his revelation about binding me to a chair to watch the attack, a literal captive audience. So while I got a chair and took my clothes off he freed Diana's feet, removed her gag and blindfold. He did keep her wrists tied in front of her body. She lay on the floor quivering in fear but she controlled herself enough to ask what he intended to do to her.
While he tied me to the chair he said to her, "Just do what I tell you."
When I was securely tied to a hard wooden chair next to Diana, he yanked her to her feet. She stared at me while he tossed a rope over the ceiling beam and tied one end to the rope around her wrists. He took her heels off then pulled on the rope, hoisting her hands above her head.
"Oh, that..." I started to say but he glared at me. This is when and how the no talking rule started. He looked at me and the sentence died in my throat when I saw the anger flare in his eyes. He stepped over to me and delivered a vicious backhand to my mouth. Blood flew and I tasted its salty flavor. The pain was sharp and erotic.
"Don't talk," he said, unnecessarily. I had already received that message loud and clear.
He tied the rope that held her hands aloft to my chair. Then he took out the knife and showed it to her.
"Oh my God!"
He slowly cut the dress off. She had on black pantyhose over black satin panties with a matching black bra. Her tits were firm and round, big pillows on her chest. The skin was dark and her features displayed some Latin ancestry. She was beautiful, she was dark, she was sexy, and she was utterly terrified. My pussy dripped onto the hard wood and puddle beneath me.
Her pantyhose were cut away, too. But the bra he shoved up over her tits, up high on her chest. He showed her the knife again.
“No, please!”
He got between her thighs and used the tip of the blade across the crotch panel of her panties, back to front, front to back along where her slit would be.
“Oh God!”
“Want me to fuck you with it?”
“No!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Oh, God! Please leave me alone!”
He watched the knife move along the black satin between her legs for a moment, seemingly considering his next move.
Then he put the knife on the floor and dug into a pocket in his jeans.
“Do you believe I have the will to hurt you?”
“Yes,” she said. Her voice quivered and she was crying, shaking like a leaf. My cunt gushed juices.
“No you don’t,” he challenged, “so I’m going to prove it to you.”
“I believe you!”
He held up the items he had retrieved from his pocket, two very large safety pins.
“Look at the bitch in the chair,” he commanded. She looked at me. I could feel her terror and it was obvious in her wide eyes. “She’s my slave slut. Do you want to be my slave slut too?”
“I… yes, I… what do you want me to do?”
“Every fucking thing I tell you.”
He slowly pulled her panties down her tanned legs revealing her well-trimmed black bush. He slid his index finger along her slit, getting her wet, making her pussy lips swell. She hung from her ropes, whimpering and pleading, praying and swearing softly. He opened one of the big pins and showed it to her. He smiled.
“If I miss,” he said, “I’ll have to try again.”
To her credit she managed not to move around too much. He tugged her left side labia downward and jabbed the pin through it.
“AAAAAHHHHH!!!”
“Don’t move.”
He pulled the right side lip outward and continued the pin through that lip as well. He closed the pin.
In the chair, I had an orgasm. No kidding, I watched the pain on her face, the concentration on not moving, the blood dripping from the metal pin, her submission to him and I came right there in the chair. Robert laughed at me. He showed her the second pin.
“I can’t take it,” she whispered.
“I have closed the top of your hole,” he told her, “but you need another pin.”
“No, please.”
He showed her the second pin.
“Beg me for the second one.”
“I can’t take it.”
“Okay.” He shrugged his shoulders and reached for the knife.
“Please,” she struggled to speak, her breath coming in gulps, her chest quivered as she struggled. “Please put the pin in me.”
“Where?”
“In my lips, like the first.”
“In your pussy?”
“Yes, my pussy.”
“Are you my slave slut now?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe I have the will?”
“Yes! Yes!”
He stepped away from her. To my astonishment he untied the rope and let her down. He untied her hands and took her bra off. He turned her to face him. Then he handed her the pin.
“Put this through your pussy lips for me.”
Wow, I thought, he’s going to make her pierce her own pussy lips.
She widened her stance and bent over to see her pussy. She managed to hold her vaginal fold well enough and she jabbed the pin through.
“OOOOWWWW!”
“The other side.”
“I can’t, I can’t,” she wailed, ‘it hurts too much! Please don’t make me.”
“Do it.”
It took a few tries but she managed to pierce the other side and lock the pin in place. Blood dripped on the floor. She stood with thighs spread, slightly bent, face white with pain. I think I came again.
What followed was a blur of abuse and humiliation for Diane and multiple orgasms for me. He suspended her by the wrists again, went outside, and returned with a thin willow branch that he used to beat the shit out of her. Her marked her back, ass, tits, stomach and thighs with ugly red and purple welts, beating her until she hung limply from the ropes.
He made her suck him off and he ass fucked her. He took the pins out and raped her pussy. He whipped her cunt and then he started over with her asshole, driving his umpteenth erection into her torn rectum. Finally, he dragged her semi-conscious body over to the corner where he urinated on her. Satiated for the time being, he untied me.
“Help her dress,” he said.
She was so bad off that he didn’t tie her up when we left. He just tossed her in the trunk and we drove her into town. We dropped her outside a truck stop and bolted for town.
Back at his place I begged for the belt.
“I’m too tired,” he said, opening a cold beer and heading for the couch.
“Robert, please,” I begged, “Please don’t leave me hanging like this.”
“One day real soon, Molly, I’m going to put the pins through your pussy lips.” He lowered himself to the couch and I stood in front of him, hands in my back pockets, my pussy burning with need, hating his control over me.
“I don’t know,” I said; scared he would actually do it but wondering if the pain was really intense at the same time.
He sat back on the couch a beer in his fist grinning up at me.
“Keep your panties on, Molly,” he said with interest, “I’m going to beat them off of you.”
That’s when I came again.
I had to end it when he finally killed a woman.
Maybe I should say, more accurately, I ended it when he and Tara killed a woman.
Robert had not taken much care to scope her out before we did the session with her but he knew she lived alone. She was a thirty-something redhead with big tits and a round stomach. When we took her she had on a short skirt and high heels to show off her long legs and a tight top to show off the tits.
There was nothing showy about grabbing her. She was shopping for groceries. We met her in the lot where Robert put her groceries in the trunk while I fished her keys out of her purse. Tara watched for trouble. When things looked right Robert made her get in the trunk and slammed the lid.
You would think the entire world would notice a kidnapping in broad daylight but nobody seemed to. I drove her in her car to her own house following Robert in the van. I triggered the garage door and drove her inside. I let Robert and Tara in through the front door and we went and got her from the trunk. It was scary how easy it all was.
Things were different almost from the start and I got a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Robert and Tara were radiating this energy and I felt out of the loop. We tied the woman's hands behind her back and lay her on the floor in the living room. She was terrified, of course, and she watched with wide eyes as we brought chairs into the room from the dining room. I stripped and so did Tara.
"What's her name?"
"Maria," Tara said.
Robert tied us naked to our chairs and gagged us with our panties.
She wet herself when Robert started cutting her clothes off with his knife. The smell of urine rose from her position on the floor.
"I'm going to hurt you for doing that," Robert promised her.
"Please," her voice was near panic. She shook her head from side to side. "Please leave me alone! Please don't hurt me! Take my money, take anything,"
He was very rough with her. He slapped the shit out of her until she was bleeding freely from the nose and mouth. He punched her breasts, yanked on her nipples. He even kicked her a few times for good measure. Next to me, Tara's eyes were alive with glee and she was squirming in her seat. I knew her pussy was aching for some hard cock. She loved the violence, loved the fear, the pain the woman was in.
He made her suck him for a little while before he forced her thighs wide apart and forced his cock into her vagina. She wailed and fought him.
"It hurts! AAAAHHHH!!! You're tearing me! OOOOWWW!!!"
He smiled and fucked her harder. She writhed and cursed beneath him. It lasted a long time, it seemed, but he finally lunged forward and I could tell he was pumping jism into her abused pussy.
He got off of her and she lay on her side, naked and bleeding from nose, mouth and vagina, sobbing and saying, "oooowww, it hurts, it hurts!"
Robert kicked her again.
Then he untied Tara. I got panicky. Something bad was happening here. Why wasn't he letting me up?
Tara and Robert stood over the terrified, injured woman and kissed. He felt her up. This was new and dangerous. I hated them for risky my freedom this way. We should be getting out of here. Tara had him hard again, his cock still wet and with Maria's fluids and his own cum.
"Ready?" Tara asked with a joyful smile.
I got a chill. I knew it was going to be bad.
They positioned Maria on her back. Tara set her knees on either side of Maria's ears facing the woman's feet. She kneaded the woman's breasts while Robert kneeled between the captive's legs. Then he slowly drew Maria's knees up higher and higher until Tara could take them. Tara pulled Maria's knees back, back, back until they touched her own. The woman's pussy pointed straight up to the ceiling.
I figured I knew what he was doing.
Maria started praying when Robert's cock touched her anus.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" She screamed when he dropped his weight on her and drove his cock deep inside her rectum. Blood quickly pooled and coursed down the cleft of her ass.
"OOOOOOWWWWWW!!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!" Maria screamed and screamed as he fucked her ass with firm, powerful jolts.
"I told you I would hurt you, Maria."
The rape went on. Maria screamed and cried and bled as he pistoned his cock in and out of her rectum. I was so riveted on her expression of agonizing pain and degradation I didn't see Tara let go of the legs and pick up the woman's bra.
It was awful to watch. I fought my bonds and tried to scream "NO! NO! NO!" but I couldn't get free. Tara wrapped the bra around Maria's throat and twisted it tight. She turned blue as Robert hammered his cock into her ass. She turned purple and her tongue came out as he pounded his fist down on her tits while fucking her. I think she died about the time he shot his load inside of her.
They let her lay there with the bra twisted tightly while they rolled on the ground together on a godlike high. I thought they would kill me next. Instead, done celebrating their crime, they untied me.
I dressed and drove myself home without saying a word. I packed everything I owned and moved to a hotel. Then I called the cops from a payphone and reported the murder.
Prison isn't as bad as I feared it would be. I will be getting out in another ten years and start my probation. Robert and Tara will never get out of prison. In fact, Robert is on death row. Tara made a deal to testify which got her a life sentence. I had to testify too.
Want to hear the weird part? They wouldn't let me testify about all the other rapes! That's right; they said I could tell all about Maria's rape and death but the other stories would taint the trial. But he was convicted and sentence to death. He writes me letters from his prison cell and I read them in mine.
He writes, "Molly, you fucking whore, if I get out you're dead. Guess what? What's the first thing they did when I got to jail? They made me give them my belt. You remember my belt don't you? It's thick and hard and leather, Molly. If I get out and they give it back do you know what I'll do when I find you? I know that's what you want, isn't it Molly? I know you, bitch, I know you want the belt. Before I kill you, Molly, you're going to get the belt."
God help me I read it over and over. He would do it if he got the chance. He would beat me and rape me and then he would kill me. In my cell, six foot by eight foot, lying on the bunk and reading his letter over and over, God help me, my pussy starts to flood.
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