Come and Take It!

[Evil Gun Owner]

Hello "ladies" and "gentlemen". This is my first rape story ever written. It took me quite a few days and nights to write. This story is very long for a forum which is why I had to use attachments. It is about what happens when a good wife role-plays as a gun-grabbing thug on her husband's birthday. She encounters a new type of occupational hazard: getting raped by an armed citizen!

Have fun with this one and I hope you catch all the political humor. Cheers.

P.S.: This story is fiction. I do not have a wife or girlfriend. I have not even kissed a girl before, let alone had sex. I used the best of my knowledge from reading this forum ( ) and from what I've seen from porn. I just had to get this idea out of my head and into the world!

[Evil Gun Owner]

Come and Take It!

By

Evil Gun Owner (Rape Board)/ Centrist (Keep and Bear Arms)/ BleedingHeartCentrist (The High Road)/ Centrist (DeviantART)/ teenphilosopher2001 (Yahoo! Music)

I love my wife. Really. I do. I love her so much that I gave her a special gift for my twenty-fifth birthday.

“This is for you, baby.” I told her in a warm voice.

“Aww…,” She smiled, but her face quickly changed from happy to puzzled. “But this is your birthday! You’re not supposed to get presents for-” My wife sometimes catches her self thinking out loud and would close her mouth abruptly in mid-sentence. She’s so cute when she does that so I don’t mind. It’s part of her uniqueness. She finished the sentence with: “Oh.”

Perhaps my wife thought I got her some nice lingerie from one of those department stores at the local mall. She probably figured (not out loud this time) she’d slip into them and lead me to the master bedroom with a seductive grin.

Not this time.

The box she was now holding in her hands was simply of medium size and rectangular. I wrapped it my self with red wrapping paper and white flat string tied in a fancy bow.

“Please, open it.” I urged my darling.

***

I actually met Katie at a convenience store. It was one of those record-breaking hot summer days and many kids and teens were quenching their thirsts after a day attending one of those government indoctrination/reeducation centers (public schools). As I was filling a plastic cup with cola I could overhear Katie chatting with her girlfriends as they were approaching the soda machine.

I get a little nervous sometimes when someone is waiting in line behind me and I ended up almost bumping into her. I couldn’t help but notice how she was “different” from the other girls (considering she was right in front of my face). She was somewhat short, slender, and had small breasts (from what I could see from her clothing). I’m a face and hair person and gazing at Katie’s face for some reason made feel overcome with joy (I didn’t know that this feeling was at the time as I had no relationship experience whatsoever) as I examined her soft white, undamaged skin, straight ash blond hair, and her innocent brown eyes. I was also impressed how she was better clothed than her peers as I am turned-on by well-adjusted women.

Against my better judgment (at the time), I decided I must at least try talking to her. I knew I would not see a girl or woman as radiant as her perhaps ever again. I quickly tried to think of a nice pickup line, but with this beautiful girl right in front of me, perhaps wondering if I‘ll move out of her way, all I could say to her was: “Wow, you’re really cute!”

It was not as bad as one would think. I realized Katie was attracted to some of my dorkiness because she did not politely tell me to “fuck off”. “One thing led to another” and we were boyfriend and girlfriend in a week. She was sixteen, I was twenty-three.

I learned so much about a dating and girls in one week, that I got a big headache on the weekend. I knew it was very important to respect my new girlfriend by introducing my self to her parents. Katie had wonderful parents, because they were in total shock for two whole minutes (It means they care about their daughter, right?) after I explained my relationship to her. I was able to allay their preconceptions about older men by convincing them that they are, indeed, perverts looking to take away a good girl’s virginity -with me as the exception. I was the gentle, morally-sound individual (though it took them a while to see the pure intentions within me). They eventually accepted me because Katie would always tell them how I treated her with respect and how I was not like the boys her age and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

We got married two years later. What neither Katie, nor her parents knew was my evil scheme to introduce my love to the pleasures of rape fantasy.

***

[Evil Gun Owner]

My lovely Katie has not changed much physically (except for the fuller breasts). She still styles her hair like Baby Spice intermittently (me like) and occasionally dyes her hair bright red (which drives me crazy with glee). I exercise regularly to stay physically attractive to her and try to show her ever day how I love her without filing for a second mortgage. And this was a special day.

I could see those curious brown eyes of hers examining my “special gift”. With the curious eyes of a small child, Katie carefully untied the string and removed the wrapping paper, discovering a plain white cardboard box.

Removing the top cover with excitement on her face, Katie unfolded the delicate mesh paper and removed the single clothing item. Her face turned puzzled again.

“Oh.” My wife uttered while staring at my gift to her on my birthday. “It’s a windbreaker.” A dark blue windbreaker to be exact. She turned the item around and saw the big, blocky yellow capital letters spelling “ATF” in the center.

“ATF? Is that like a cool brand-name or something?” Katie asked.

“No…” I could not completely conceal my smile; the excitement was just too much for my face to handle. I noticed the rest of my body was starting to fidget.

“You mean the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (BATFEces)?”

I nodded a “yes” to my beloved.

My Katie. So naïve. So innocent. So corruptible.
Ignoring her last train of thought, I urged my love to “Please, try it out.” The windbreaker fitted Katie perfectly.

“It does feel comfortable, but it seems strange giving me something like this.” Katie knew something was not right. Woman’s intuition.

I had enough of this suspense and lunged at my beautiful wife with the full force of my body, grabbed her and turned her around -her back facing me. I yelled behind her right ear: “BITCH, YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE AWAY MY GUNS!”

My ATF rape fantasy.

“J----, what are you doing?!” Katie asked with a terrified voice.

“Raping your JBT (Jack-Booted Thug) pussy.” I retorted.

“Please, LET ME GO!” Katie asked with a sobbing voice. She turned her head towards me as far as her body could allow. I could see real tears welling up in her eyes. Clearly, she was not having fun. I immediately let her go, feeling disappointed and ashamed of my self. I had never made Katie cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” I tried hugging her, but it only lasted a mere few seconds. With her arms, she signaled me to stop hugging. My wife was heading to the front door.

“I’m, uh, going out with my girlfriends.” As she was recovering from her tears.

“When will you be back?” I asked, being safety-minded .

“I don’t… know.” As she blankly stared at the floor.

I had never seen Katie like this. We’ve had our fair share of arguments like any healthy couple (like that time I told her kids and guns would go well together) and we always discussed our feelings and ideas with each other, but it was clear she was walking away from me! Does she think I’m a psycho? I thought. God, I hope she’s okay. I am an atheist, but I sometimes make religious references when I am very angry or worried. Katie is a good Christian woman and I go to church with her every Sunday to support her and interact with the community. Then I thought: Hey, if she’s going to friends and not to church, it must not be THAT bad! I plopped up on the couch and passed my time viewing the idiot box, waiting for my beloved to come back home safe and sound.

I know my wife is safe every day because she always carries a Berretta PX4 Storm Type F and a can of OC (Oleoresin Capsicum) pepper spray and I trained her how to use both of them in self-defense while dating her (I’m so romantic).

It was 10:00 PM now. The thought just dawned on me. Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it! I’ll never get to “rape” my wife! But not a moment too soon, I heard a knock on the front door. Who could that be? I thought. Katie has her own set of house keys affixed to her keychain along with her car keys which she took with her after my attempt to make hate to the evil ATF agent she unwillingly transformed into. I walked to the door slowly with my hands ready to draw my SA (Springfield Armory) XD (Extreme Duty) Tactical from my IWB (Inside-the-WaistBand) holster and/or my self-defense knife in my left pocket (Pants go on, gun goes on).

I opened the door. It was my beloved Katie! She came back (and was still wearing the windbreaker)! I was so happy just to see her face even if she just wanted to tell me that I’m going to jail for attempted rape. But before I could express my relief, she opened her mouth with a neutral expression.

“J----?”

“Uh, yes.”

“I’m Katie from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. We received a phone call from some safety-conscious subj- err, citizens that you have possession of some illegal firearms on your property.”

She’s okay, she’s okay! My deviant mind led me to the next logical conclusion. IT’S TIME FOR RAPE!

“What? Illegal firearms?” I talked back to the beautiful ATF agent in front of me. “First off,” I started. “There are no such thing as illegal guns, only effective and ineffective guns. Second, did my yuppie neighbors next-door phone in the tip?”

The ATF bitch (my love, Katie) condescendingly replied: “It’s illegal IF WE SAY it’s illegal and second, we have to protect the identities of peace-loving Americans from PEOPLE LIKE YOU.”

“People like me? What the hell does that mean? Never mind, I forgot that I’m talking to SOMEONE LIKE YOU. I have no ‘illegal firearms’,” I rolled my eyes. “-Whatever that means.”

I felt like I was the teenage daughter having a caustic exchange of words with her mother about who not to go out with (Katie performed that feat with her parents a couple of times before they started to trust me).

“Well,” the gun-grabber sneered. “Then you won’t mind if I search your premises. If you have nothing to hide, I’ll be on my merry way and I’ll simply ask my supervisor to put you on the list of ‘mentally unstable persons’ so that you can’t buy a new gun. You could just enjoy the crappy watered-down -I mean- civilian-legal firearms that you currently have.”

The firearms my wife and I own are of excellent quality and quite expensive. I have my XD which I carry all the time, but my prized possession is in the trunk of my sedan when I’m driving. My M1A Enhanced Battle Rifle (EBR, though the acronym commonly refers to Evil Black Rifle as in the AR-15) is there when shit-hits-the-fan. My wife and I have a M1014 combat shotgun in the closet for home defense and Katie has her PX4 carry gun on her nightstand while my XD rests on mine. It would be nice to own some H&K (Heckler & Koch) MP7A1s, FN (Fabrique Nationale) SCAR-Ls (SOF Combat Assault Rifle-Light) chambered in 6.5 Grendel, and some Predator SRAWs (Short Range Assault Weapon) equipped with anti-armor warheads. These kinds of weapons would come in handy when our government stops pretending to care for its flock (like in this mock-case), but they are unfortunately banned for individual ownership at the moment.

Katie’s belittling comments about my private property were starting to enrage me (I was really into role-playing as the angry and defiant gun owner now). I had no idea Katie was so good at role-playing as a jack-booted thug. I guess all those years force-feeding -err- teaching my then-girlfriend about guns, the Constitution, liberty and freedom, and big government finally paid off. For this.

[Evil Gun Owner]

“And what if I don’t consent to your little ransacking plans?” I asked Agent Katie.

“Well,” Evoking a girly expression. “We just got this new Stryker personnel carrier fitted with a sweet flamethrower turret and it’s really good at burning things -like women and children! My tactical buddies can‘t wait to try it out.”

“Alright.” I conceded. “I get it. You win.” I grudgingly accepted her “invitation” and used a cordial hand gesture to coax the agent into the interior of my home.

I started thinking of doing naughty things to Agent Katie as she observed the family room. Everyone knows that gun owners are mean, rude, sexist, uneducated, homophobic, anti-science, barbaric Neanderthals. I, the loving husband of my child-like (but not childish) wife, had fully transformed into the Evil Gun Owner!

Growing impatient, I told Agent Katie: “I keep all my weapons in the bedroom. I’ll show you.” While leading her down the hallway, I could tell this bitch was admiring the interior. Perhaps she was thinking stupid socialist thoughts like “you have too much” or “you probably abuse your wife” (I think abuse is subjective in this case).

Agent Katie and I were alone in the master bedroom. She observed her immediate surroundings, but it looked like she was trying to find my “illegal guns”. I noticed Katie’s face turning impatient.

“Alright,” Katie voiced assertively. “Where are they? I’m a very busy woman and I have plenty of gun shops and thought-criminals to bully and I don’t have all day.”

“Okay.” I grinned. “I have my illegal gun right here.” I pointed toward my crotch with both index fingers. I just realized all this “foreplay” made my cock rock hard. The doomed agent barely knew what hit her. At one moment, she was raising an eyebrow in response to my crass attempt at humor, and the next she was fighting for her life and her dignity in an all-out brawl. I knew I could easily subdue Katie in a physical struggle with my immense strength. The wife inside the jack-booted thug knew this too and immediately drew her equalizer with her right hand. I managed to press Katie against the wall her flailing body facing mine. She was a feisty chick; I had to use my entire body to muffle her movement while using my left hand to press her struggling right arm against the wall, keeping her handgun pointed in a generally safe direction (Well, safe for me, the rapist). Once I accomplished this I squeezed her wrist as hard as I could until I heard a painful squeal. She lost grip of her only effective tool against any man attacking her. I felt such a rush conquering a small woman (Real rapists are cowards, but I had no idea pretending to be one could be so much fun!).

I searched the bitch’s pockets and threw the OC spray across the room. I took my victim by the hand and threw her light body onto the bed. While she was face-down on the covers, I immediately positioned my self over her body while hooking my left arm around her chest. I wanted to assert my dominance and convey to her that resistance was indeed futile.

I turned Katie around. She was whimpering a little, but I could tell she was not genuinely terrified like last time.

“Now, before we get to the good part, I must give the safety words.” I was referring to a common safety system that role-players and BDSM (Bondage & Discipline, Domination & Submission, Sadism & Masochism) partners practice to avoid injury and to avoid time in pound-me-in-the-ass prison. “Red means stop, yellow means slow down, and green means go or ’stop boring me’. This is just fantasy, baby. YOU are in control.” I gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. “I love you.” I caught my self lapsing in my role as the Evil Gun Owner. I recovered my “game face” and I asked my victim a few inches from her eyes: “So…, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

I produced an evil grin on my face. I was so excited about “taking” my girl. Time for the real fun to begin. First, it was time to get rid of that blouse. I wanted the ATF bitch to keep her windbreaker on -to remind me of who and what I was dominating and for her to know the embarrassment of getting raped in the field. I used my two hands to grasp the neck and with one pull I tore the shirt off and threw it on the floor. I also ripped off her bra as I did not feel like massaging her through clothes. I wanted “flesh-on-flesh”.

Agent Katie knew what was coming soon. She was making another futile attempt to break free, as if she could somehow resist my overbearing muscles or magically slide out from underneath me and escape to safety. She tried to reason with me by screaming: “No, no, please!” But she was foolish to think she could reason with a gun owner. Didn’t she know I am either a crook or a “ticking time-bomb”? Dumb blonde. And every time she said: “No, no!”, my other head was thinking: “Yes, yes!”

Removing that blouse revealed her perfect set of breasts. I started to suck on them gently. Katie tried to resist the pleasure signals that her body was sending, but she ended up making some low moaning sounds anyway. That only aroused me even more. Both of her nipples became very hard after I finished my minute of pleasuring her chest.

My final plan for her was the “shut up and try to enjoy it” part. The part I’ve been waiting for all this time. I didn’t want my “toy” to resume the struggle so I removed my self-defense (How ironic) knife from its sheath and let the sharp end rest on Katie’s throat. Her pupils were focused on the blade and her soft body became paralyzed with fear. I lowered my face and I whispered into her left ear: “Now you’re going to know what it really means to be a public servant.”

While keeping my knife against her throat, I used my right hand to pull Katie’s plain black panties down to her legs. I could feel my breathing becoming more intense. I got so excited by the sight of Katie’s pink pussy, I unbuttoned my jeans and used my legs to throw them and my boxers to the floor while fixating on it.

As excited as I was though, I knew it was not time yet. I started rubbing her pussy with my fingers and her clit with my thumb. There was no way Agent Katie could resist that kind of sensation.

“Oh, God, I’m gonna cum!” She moaned in a high voice. I used my fingers to rub that fresh-smelling liquid around her pussy walls. I comically told Katie: “Ha, ha, you had an orgasm! You slut!”

Now it was time. I positioned my five-inch rock-hard cock in front of her vagina. I made my first thrust and felt that intense pleasure down there. I started thrusting at a medium speed. I could hear Katie trying to contain her moans of pleasure. She alternated between closing hers eyes and staring at the ceiling or walls while I was fucking her. Perhaps she was trying to block what would be a horrible memory for a real rape victim. I worked very hard to stop my self from “finishing” to soon. I was fucking my toy for thirty minutes. I could tell Katie was getting close to having another orgasm; she could not contain her moans any longer and she kept her eyes open. I could not wait to shoot my load (No pun intended for gun owners) into her and I think we were both ready to cross the point of no return.

I removed my knife from Katie’s throat (I could see the slight indentation on her neck) and used my hand to caress that bump of pleasure known as the clitoris. I started thrusting in rapid succession and Katie’s moans became loud enough to be heard throughout the house. Her face was becoming red, her body was tensing up.

“I’M GONNA CUM!” I yelled to her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alive in bed. We did not have sex for two weeks because I was saving up for this wonderful night. I ended up collapsing on my wife and letting my self rest for fifteen seconds.

Katie was still pretending to be the evil government thug. I left the bedroom seeing her face looking sad and defeated. She was sad because she came into my home trying to confiscate my precious means of defense against evil but ended up getting her own body confiscated by a filthy, stinking right-wing gun owner.

Without putting any clothes on, I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of my wife’s favorite drink: iced tea. I entered the master bedroom where my wife laid. I came through the door not as a rapist, but as the kind, gentle, supportive husband that Katie fell in love with when I met her. We cuddled in bed for an hour.

I am not a rapist. Real rape is evil*. I have not and will not rape anyone. Ever. Rape fantasy on the other hand can be loads of fun for people and a great way to spice up the sex (or masturbatory) life. Please do not prejudge me or other people who read, write, and perform these kinds of scenarios. We are good people who are simply taking our monsters out for a walk. We are honest with our selves and we know what we are capable of, but choose to do good anyway . Most people know the difference between fantasy and reality. Thank you for your time and I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it.

*Beautiful government thugs are exempt.**

**Just kidding. No one deserves to be raped. Not even government thugs. They are humans, too. ***

***Did writing this story put me on the Terror Watch List?

Remember history. Stay armed.