Stephanie

She implemented her strategy, making sure she was never in her apartment whenever her roommate was gone, waking up early and leaving for the library, staying out until she was sure her Amy was back.  She pushed the attacks out of her mind, put her mind to studying, and refused to indulge in the common fantasizing that had made her choose the costume she had chosen for Halloween, even as unbidden images of her bound on her belly, of her on her hands and knees, mounted, of her pushed against a wall in a dirty alley being used, of her degraded and humiliated and treated like an animal would flit into her mind at the most inopportune times.

She shook them off, refused to give into the fantasies that seemed to grow stronger each day she tried to ignore them.  The images became harder to push from her mind, the throbbing in her pussy harder to ignore, making her want to touch herself, bring herself some relief from her forced denial.  Those thoughts weren't right, weren't who she was; those thoughts had caused Jeff to rape her, twice, and had made her want it, crave it.  She wasn't like that.  She wasn't, she kept telling herself, throwing herself with more abandon into her studies.

The worst thing was seeing Jeff and Amy together, feeling a unwanted pull toward him, her mind flashing to images of being used by him every time he saw her.  She tried to act normal, and thought she succeeded, both glad and scandalized that Jeff too was acting as if nothing had happened between them.  Almost as bad were the dreams.  After a few days, the dreams started up, strange, surreal montages of running with flashes of skin as her clothes slowly disappeared piece by piece, of capture, where she would trip or fall or just find herself surrounded by men, but not men, dream images of men, almost half-animal, howling and hooting and rushing at her before rushing back, laughing and calling out, of rape, as they pounced on her, pulled her limbs apart and using her brutally and long until she woke up sweating and gasping, her fingers at her cunt, her heart pounding, frustrated and turned on, wishing only to forget and go back to sleep.

It was a Friday night, Amy had left to spend the weekend with her family, and she was alone in her apartment for the first time in over two weeks.  Dread filled her as she watched television, not able to concentrate as she wondered if he would appear, if he would walk through the door and just take her.  Every minute that he didn't seemed to raise her fear, until she realized it was more than just fear, it was also a sick anticipation.  Every time she shifted on the coach, she felt the lips of her pussy slide against each other, swollen and wet, sending an unwelcome shock of pleasure through her body.  Her stomach started to ache with the stress of it, and she couldn't stop thinking about it, realizing with shame that as much as she dreaded him coming through the door, she wanted him to.

As the hours passed, the dread lessened and the need grew, until she was glancing at the door every few seconds, tensing her thighs to feel the waves of pleasure from her slippery cunt, even the thought of him finding her so wet, increasing her humiliation, seemed only to add to her desire.  She waited past midnight, refusing to touch herself, refusing to admit, truly admit, that she wanted him to come, telling herself she was glad he hadn't come, glad, because she wouldn't have been able to resist.  Tomorrow would be different.  She wouldn't be so needy.  She could beat this.

It was in the middle of one of her dreams, she had just been thrown to the ground, a man-beast mounting her, his strong body covering hers, his heat seeming to seep through her pores even as his cock was readying to plunge into her defenseless pussy, when she came awake with a shock, gasping in surprise as she saw a figure standing beside her bed.  She opened her mouth to scream, jerking her covers to her neck in a useless motion of defense, but strangled the cry when she saw it was Jeff, staring down at her.

"J...Jeff..." she started to say, her eyes wide, her heart pounding, her mind racing, trying to figure out what was happening even as she knew, even as she felt her cunt throb and heat fill her body, taking her breath away.

All of a sudden he was on top of her, his hand around her throat, his face next to hers, fear lancing through her body.

"Stephie Stephie Stephie.  Avoiding me isn't nice." 

He squeezed her neck slightly as she opened her mouth to speak, silencing her, her hands lightly around his wrist as he threw the covers off of her.

"Girls like you shouldn't avoid men like me."  She felt his hand as it slid down her front, over the long t-shirt sleeper she wore to bed, embarrassed that he would find her without panties.  "Girls like you need men like me."  She shuddered as she felt his fingers push up her tee, slipping between her slender thighs and sliding against her cunt.

"Your pussy knows it," he said, wiping his wet fingers down her cheek, her body trembling in humiliation, "you need to learn it."

He let her go and kneeled beside her on the bed as she lay frozen, paralyzed as if she were a bird facing a snake, watching as he slipped off his belt and doubled it up.

"Roll over, slut."

The words shocked her, and almost without thinking she obeyed, her stomach fluttering, her mind a mixture of fear, shame, and unbearable excitement.  Then the belt came down, striking the firm globes of her ass, and she grunted, her body tensing, her hands gripping the sheets beside her head as pain flared through her, pain and an incredible heat between her legs.

"Ten strokes, Steph, ten strokes for each time I looked for you and couldn't find you."

After ten, she was crying and writhing on the bed, her slender body twisting, her legs kicking slowly, her stomach tense, her chest heaving, her ass burning and hurting like it had never hurt before, but they were as nothing compared to the tumult in her mind.  She should be fighting, resisting, enraged at this humiliation, but instead each blow on her ass was like a release, like a cleansing wave of pain that seemed to wash away all her confusion, all her inhibitions, all her resistance.  Jeff was beating her like an animal, like a kajira, because she had displeased him.  Worse, she had known that she was displeasing him, and had done it anyway.

 

At twenty, the pain was overwhelming, and she simply lay there, her hands tangled in the sheet, deep, sobbing gasps rocking her body as he continued to beat her.  She deserved this, her mind seemed to scream, deserved to be punished for denying herself, for denying that she was a slut, a mere animal in heat.  As much as she wanted the pain to end, she didn't want it to ever end, for it wiped away all doubt, all fear, all confusion.  She was a slut, an animal, a slave, a 'kajira'.

 

Jeff, reaching forty blows, stopped and looked down at Stephanie, beautiful, slender, sexy Stephanie, so untouchable, so friendly and teasing and pretty yet remote until Halloween, when she had revealed her fantasies.  When he had seen her in white silk, with that look in her eyes, he had known, and acted, and now he was enjoying his boldness, Stephanie laying prone before him, her ass flaming red, her body shaking in sobs, submissive, docile, and, he was sure, burning with need.

 

"Ass in the air, slut," he commanded, moving around behind her as she, weeping still, raised her ass up in the air, her face still pressed into the sheets, presenting herself to him, her cunt an ugly red gash between her thighs, swollen and wet with lust.

 

She wept not just from the pain, but from the need.  "Oh god," she thought, "please, please.  I need it," she wanted to beg, her ass swaying slightly as she trembled before him, her eyes tightly shut, the feel of his hand at her hips, his other guiding his cock to her cunt making her heart race and her pussy throb.  "Fuck me fuck me fuck me use me use me use me take me take me take me" ran through her mind and then she felt his cock at her entrance, pausing, and then thrusting deep, hard, brutally, his hips slamming against her beaten ass, the shock and pain and screaming pleasure made her shove her face into the mattress as she screamed out her orgasm, each thrust of his cock into her cunt seeming to drive her pleasure higher, each slap of his hips against her bruised ass dragging out a deep masochistic streak in her until finally the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf her ebbed.

 

Instead of leaving her spent, though, or satisfied, she was left trembling as he continued to fuck her hard, his hands leaving bruises on her hips as he slammed his cock into her; she could feel another orgasm building, giving in to the sensations, the need.  He had raped her; had used her; had beat her and was fucking her, and it was indescribable.  Her muscles tensed, and she started to rock back against him, following the lead of his hands as he rode her like an animal, causing him to exclaim,

 

"Damned fucking bitch!"

 

The words spiking through her, sending her crashing into another orgasm, her whole body shaking as she came, her toes curling, her feet pulling up to her ass as he didn't let up, seemingly determined to pound her cunt to jelly.  She went practically limp, finally spent, her cunt still burning and tingling under the assault.  Her third orgasm hit her unexpectedly as he came inside her, the thought of him spending himself in her cunt triggering a wave of pleasure that washed through her and seemed to calm her.

 

She slid over onto her side as she felt him pull out, watched him through slitted eyes as he crawled over the bed until he was leaning back against the headboard, his legs spread, his cock, semi-hard, glistening with her own juices.  He reached over and grabbed her hair, pulling her, guiding her until she was staring at his cock, inches from it.

 

"Clean it up, slut.  You're the one who got it dirty with your cunt, so clean it up good."

 

It was foul, disgusting, and student-Stephanie would have resisted, but kajira-Stephanie opened her mouth and took his cock into her mouth, the taste of her own pussy strong and bitter on him, letting her saliva wash away her own spend, sucking and licking and nuzzling his cock and balls while his hands, tangled in her hair, guided her head.  It felt so right, so good, a low level of lust filling her body, to be servicing him, to submit to him, to be a kajira for him.  She shut out her doubts, her fears, shut out thoughts of Amy and her friends finding out and reveled in the moment, the moment where she was completely submissive, completely devoted to serving and pleasuring the cock before her.

 

It was a long time, the ache in her jaws only heightening her sense of being used, increasing her excitement, her need, before he came, his cum coating her tongue, its bitter, acrid taste filling her mouth and nostrils as she swallowed it, knowing instinctively that that is what she had to do, still suckling his cock as it softened in her mouth.

 

He pulled her head up by her hair, looking at her downcast eyes.

 

"You're not going to avoid me anymore, are you Stephie?"

 

"No."

 

"Every time I show up and you're not here it's ten strokes of the belt.  Do you understand, Stephie?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Good."

 

With that he stood, buttoned his pants, his eyes still on Stephanie as she kneeled on the bed, her heels under her still-reddened ass, her arms resting on her thighs, her eyes downcast, her long hair draped down her body.  He left, leaving her to her own thoughts.