Asking For It MF NC

[SlutNeeds2bAbused]

Asking For It

By SlutNeeds2bAbused

dirtyrapeslut@gmail.com

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This story is pure fiction, and is not intended to condone rape in any way, shape or form.
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"Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"

"We have Your Honor. We find the defendant-"

Stan Williams closed his eyes, feeling the moment between words stretch into eternity. How had it come to this?

* * * * * *

He'd first come into contact with Clarissa Stevens online, about nine months ago. He'd met her on a forum dedicated to, shall we say, the darker side of sex. She'd been using the handle 'subslut4rape' at the time. He'd first been attracted to her by the general filthiness of her posts - she wouldn't hesitate to go into lurid detail about what she wanted done to her. She talked about how she always went to bed with her window open, ready for her rapist to enter. She said she wanted to wake up bound and gagged one night with a knife at her throat and a strange man straddling her chest. Stan had felt his cock get harder and harder with every post, and he would often masturbate slowly over the pictures she posted.

One night, after a couple of beers, it's true, he logged on to find her active. She was indulging the group by sharing the logs of a particularly violent and abusive chat she'd been involved in that day. She said she'd cum three times; that her thighs were still wet.

Stan impulsively typed a reply.

*Maybe I'll track you down and take that lucky fucker's place tonight, slut.*

He clicked away without another thought and began to read a new post, stroking his ever hardening dick. When he found his way back to the main screen he saw that he had a Private Message.

*I'll be waiting for you...*

His hand stilled. It was her. Heart beating wildly, he read the message over and over. Was that an invitation? Even if it was, did he have the balls to do it?

Hand shaking, he reached for the phone and called his buddy Mark who was, co-incidentally, the Admin of the forum.

"Hey Stan my man, what's up? You been reading that cunt's latest adventure?"

He and Mark often talked about what they'd like to do to everyone's favorite poster.

"Yeah, I have. Listen Mark...can you get me her IP?"

Mark was suspicious so eventually Stan was forced to explain why he wanted it.

"Holy shit!" Mark exclaimed. "You're really going to do that bitch?"

"That's the plan," replied Stan, with a bravado he didn't really feel. "Kinda depends where she lives though."

Mark gave him the IP address on one condition - that he'd share his slut next time he used her.

"Happy raping buddy," were his parting words.

Once he had the IP it was the work of minutes to find out where she lived.

It was just across town, about an hour's drive away.

Stan felt his palms begin to sweat.

He could do it. He just needed a few scraps of cloth for binding and gagging his 'victim'. And a knife from the kitchen, if he wanted to fulfil her fantasy.

Almost without thinking he found himself changing into dark clothes, tearing up an old shirt into strips, collecting a blade. He was in his car and halfway to the address before he really realised what he was doing. But by then he was too far gone.

Clarissa's house (he'd found her name from the IP search too) was darkened when he reached it. It was a single storey detached building, with rose bushes and a white gate at the front, and a path leading to the rear. After first checking that the coast was clear he slipped through the gate and round to the back.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the open window. *She really does want this* he thought wildly, moving with infinite slowness towards the window. He could see the bed and the outline of the figure under the blankets. Up close at last he could see that it was really her. Clarissa Stevens, a.k.a subslut4rape was less than ten feet away, waiting for him.

Nimble as a cat, he climbed through the open window. Up until now there had been some doubt in his mind about what he was doing - the open window had erased that. This bitch wanted to be raped and he was going to give her what she wanted.

He pulled three strips of shirt from his pocket and stepped closer to the bed. Gently, he took her right hand in his. Clarissa sighed in her sleep. Stan took a moment to take in the sight of his gorgeous victim. The pictures had not done her justice. Red hair, lightly curled, pillowed under head. A light dusting of freckles over pale skin. Her eyes were closed but he knew when they flew open in just a few moments that they'd be green. Her body's shape was disguised by the sheets and blankets but he already knew what that looked like - subslut4rape was not shy online.

After a moment or two of silent contemplation he took her left hand and brought both her wrists together. As deftly as he could, he tied her wrists together. Tight enough to stop her from releasing herself; loose enough not to disturb her slumber.

Heart thudding with excitement, he tied a second piece of shirt around his head, under his nose. His face half covered now, he quickly slipped his pants and underwear off. His cock sprang free, pointing obscenely at the supine form on the bed.

He stroked it for a moment, wanting to prolong the experience of watching the helpless girl before him. Then, in one switch movement, he climbed on top of her chest. Her eyes flew open and her mouth opened to scream. When it did he stuffed the third strip of shirt between her lips, and brought his blade to her quivering throat.

"Move a muscle and I'll slit your throat," he hissed. The words were lifted verbatim from one of her posts.

Green eyes flashed with fear and confusion. A groan rose from her throat but she didn't move. Stan shifted his weight on her, grinding his balls against her.

"You've been asking for this, you dirty fucking slut," he whispered. "And now you're gonna get it. You're gonna get it so fucking hard you won't be able to walk for a month!"

His voice raised in his excitement and he inadvertently nicked a small cut in the smooth skin of her throat. The sight of the blood shocked him for a second, but as soon as he realised she wasn't properly hurt he became excited again. Ducking his head to her throat, he began to suck the blood from her like some kind of demented vampire. She was squirming beneath him but his weight kept her in place. Sucking turned to nipping and nipping to biting as he went crazy on her neck. When he eventually raised his head she had a large purple bruise forming, a mockery of a love bite.

"Did you like that, whore?" he asked and laughed when she shook her head frantically. "I don't give a fuck if you did or not," he admitted. "You're just a piece of fucking meat for me to use."

At his words tears sprung from her eyes. He bent his head and licked them from her cheeks.

After a few moments of savoring the way the girl twisted and shook beneath him, he turned his attention to removing her night clothes. The shorts were easy enough, although he didn't take them all the way off. He left them tangled up at her knees and just pulled the underwear to one side. It seemed dirtier to him somehow, more frantic. The vest top she was wearing was more difficult because he couldn't think of a way to take it off without unbinding her wrists. Eventually he decided just to slice it open with his knife. The tearing cloth sounded unnaturally loud in the dark room.

"Nice tits, slut," Stan grunted, grasping her breasts and squeezing hard. A choked sob rose from the girl's throat and she began to struggle more violently.

"Yeah, that's it," he gloated. "I love it when my fuckmeat fights back."

He leaned down and took a nipple between his lips, sucking hard. A yelp of pain was audible, even through the gag. Remembering that her posts said she liked it rough, he bit down.

"Like that slut?" he said, admiring the bruises he was leaving on her pure white flesh. He didn't wait for an answer as he thrust a hand between her milky thighs.

She was dry, much to his surprise. Still, it would make it more authentic.

"You ready to get rammed you fucking cunt?"

Her struggles grew more intense as he spread her legs. With her panties pushed roughly to the side her trimmed pussy looked incredibly inviting. He spread her cunt-lips, feeling his mouth water.

"This is going to be so sweet, baby," he muttered, breaking character briefly. Then he spat on her spread cunt and rubbed the saliva on her tight hole. He spat again, wanting her nice and ready for his thick cock.

Rising u to eye-level, he rubbed his cockhead against her pussy. "Ready slut?" he asked, staring into her terror filled eyes.

*She's really fucking into this* he thought deliriously.

With one savage thrust, he buried himself inside her to the balls. As he thrust he spat on her horror-struck face.

"Oooooh, you fucking BITCH!" he groaned as his cock was enveloped by her tight softness. For a moment he just lay on top of her, feeling himself twitch inside her. Then his hips began to move of their own accord, unable to resist the warmth of her depths.

"Slut," he moaned as his movements became more rough and jerky. "Whore. Cunt. Fucking bitch!"

Stan grabbed her tits as he shoved himself violently into her, squeezing hard. "You love this, don't you slut?" he ground out. He slapped her tits, watching her wince in pain. "This is what you wanted. You fucking whore! You wanted this!"

She shook her head wildly and moaned something which sounded like no. He slapped her face savagely and pulled his cock roughly out of her. He's been close to cumming and didn't want to knock her up. He wondered for a second where he should leave his spunk, then broke into a grin as he remembered another of her posts. With quick, assured movements he flipped her over so her tight ass was in the air and her face was pressed into the bed.

"You ever had a thick one up your shitter before?" he whispered into her ear. She moaned but seemed to be past struggling now.

His cock was moist from raping her cunt, but he spat on it a few more times to make sure. Hurting her was a turn-one for him as well as her, but he didn't want to go so far that she wouldn't let him 'rape' her again. He spread some saliva on her asshole too, for safety.

Falling onto her, he started to force his rock-hardness into her tight hole. He was sweating with effort when the head finally slipped in, but the sensation of her hot shitter gripping him was worth it. "Your ass is so fucking tight," he grunted. "You been saving this for someone, whore?"

Without waiting for any kind of response he began to force himself deeper into her, moaning insults and expletives into her ear the whole time. The girl was shaking like crazy by now, but not struggling.

When he was all the way in, with his thighs against her buttocks and his balls nestling against her cunt, he sighed in pleasure. This was the life, he thought. A girl who loved rape as much as he did and a tight asshole to bury his cock in. It might just be love. He ground her ass in pure contentment for several minutes before it became too much.

Pulling her up to her knees, he began to fuck her like a dog. He was close to cumming now and was ready to let loose. He grabbed her swinging tits as he fucked her ass, squeezing and pinching them, running his hands down her sides, over her butt.

CRACK!

He slapped her ass violently, his face frozen in an expression of absolute lust, his hips moving frantically, banging her.

CRACK!

He hit her again, leaving a red handprint on her ass. The fresh pain seemed to startle her into life and she began to struggle again, screaming through the gag.

"Shut up," he panted. "Shut the fuck up!" He put a hand over her mouth and grabbed a fistful of hair with the other.

His existence had condensed to the tip of his sock, banging away inside her violated ass. He knew he must be hurting her but didn't care anymore.

"Fuck!" he moaned, as his balls started to clench. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

With a purely animal yell he began to pump cum into her violated bowels. He collapsed on top of her again as he came, his lips finding her ear. "You love this," he grunted. "You fucking whore. You asked for this." The last spurt of cum emptied itself in her ass and he sighed. "Slut."

He lay on top of her for at least five minutes, his head spinning. He had done it. He had fulfilled every one of the fantasies she's posted on the board. And he hoped she'd enjoyed it as much as he had.

He dressed quickly, and untied her. "See you online," he muttered as he made good his escape, not really noticing that she was still crying.

The drive home passed in seconds, or so it seemed. All he could remember was the pure exhilaration. When he got back he called Mark and filled him in on the details. His friend seemed even more excited than he was.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, sated, satisfied and smiling.

Stan was genuinely surprised when the cops busted his door down the following morning.

* * * * * * *

His lawyer had brought all the online evidence to the trial. All the posts, the chat logs, the Private Message. He argued that Clarissa had invited him, which therefore made the sex consensual.

The prosecutor argued that a woman was entitled to a fantasy life, and that a line of text on the internet did not an invitation make. Stan could see his life slipping away before his eyes as the foreman of the jury stood.

"W find the defendant, Stanley James Williams, Not Guilty of all charges."

The courtroom erupted. Clarissa began to cry. The women of the Victims of Rape group which had been following the trial began to scream in outrage.

"We'd better get out of here, Stan," his lawyer was saying. Stan allowed himself to be led away, stunned.

On the steps of the courtroom he found himself surrounded by reporters with microphones and legal pads. Dimly he realised that he was being asked to make some kind of comment.

Slowly, he swallowed against a sandpaper throat and said the first thing that came into his head. "God bless America..."

End

[Grm]

Thank you for your first post, a lovely, well written, little tale.
Smiles
Grm

[alice]

Quality nasty is hard to find. I applaud the story, the writing, the twist of the courtroom. Bravo!