Another Incident at the Pool

The following very dark story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is erotic FICTION not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and not meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.

"Just calm down, Betty. It's been nearly three years," I tell myself as I walk along the chain link fence that borders the neighborhood pool. A shiver of nervousness runs over me as I walk through the gate and see the large pool in front of me, as well as the clubhouse to the side and all the people.

"You are safe," I remind myself as I walk further in. None notice me, even if I am damn near terrified. Everyone is in their own world with kids playing together, parents playing with kids, men trying to show off and various women acting like they are sunbathing when they are actually flaunting their bodies. Especially the middle-aged women.

Walking along the pool, I pretend to be looking for an empty chair to sit at. What I am actually doing is trying to calm myself down and not run out of here. To get comfortable with being at the pool again after what happened.

Wearing a one-piece bathing suit with a large towel wrapped around me like an underarm dress, I walk slowly, hoping I don't look like a ball of nerves. You see, several years ago I came here after I took my freshmen college finals, much like I did today, only I'm a senior now. That fateful day, after I got in the water to celebrate, a man raped me.

I was standing by myself in the pool when he came up behind me. There he threatened me, warning me not to look behind, or else. Scared for my life I stood there, surrounded by people as the man stripped me of my bikini, fondled me, then pinned me to the side and raped me.

No one saw what happened even if there were tons of people around. No one noticed my plight. No one saw the life changing event. To this day I think that's why the man did what he did, because he knew he could get away with it.

For months I dreamt and relived what happened. Reliving how he pulled my bikini bottoms off under the water, then played with my pussy. How he pulled off my top and fondled my breasts. And most of all, how he pinned me to the side of the pool and raped me. Raped me while all but my head was under water so no one would see.

There he raped me till he came, pumping me full of his seed before disappearing. And he did disappear. I never saw who did it. I looked around but the evil bastard blended in. Never found who did it.

At the time I was so humiliated that I left. I was humiliated because the man made me orgasm multiple times, causing me to feel strange, as if what happened was my fault. Otherwise I would have called the police and had everyone in the pool arrested. But no, I ran off, letting him get away with it. Letting him get off scot-free, with him getting what he wanted and making me orgasm as a bonus.

But no matter. I'm here today to prove to myself that I've moved on. That I'm not going to let some faceless rapist scare me. I'm strong enough to overcome anything, especially some pervert that goes around taking advantage of sweet college girls, like me.

In coming to terms with this, I have had to be honest with myself and admit everything, for good and for bad. Even admit the things I don't want to. So I admit that one of the reasons that I haven't returned is that I WANT him to be here at the pool. I want him here for several reasons, with the biggest being so I can confront him.

Oh, how I want to confront him. To look right into his big, dumb rapist face and kick him right in the balls. I so want to hear him groan in pain and sound like the idiot he made me feel like. Where he'll whimper and hold his crushed dick while I laugh.

But I have to admit that there is a part of me that wants him here... so he can do it again. For him to rape me all over again and make me feel like I did that day. As much shame as that brings me, I have to be honest with myself. I enjoyed what happened.

The thrill of what happened was so intense. It made me feel pleasure that I didn't think existed. It made the orgasms I had felt more like drug injections rather than something the human body can make. I reached highs that I know I'll never feel again.

"I am safe," I repeat my mantra as I feel that familiar submissive feeling creeping within me. That feeling I've had every day since I was raped, where I wish someone would take me like he did. Where they have complete control and violate me, making me feel nothing more than an object to be used.

Forcing the arousing feelings down, I walk a complete lap around the pool, becoming more relaxed with each step. And why shouldn't I feel relaxed? The sun is shining, it's a beautiful day, there's good people here, and I'm safe. Most importantly, finals are over. Why shouldn't I enjoy a dip in the pool to celebrate?

A few kids run past me, giggling and laughing, causing the lifeguard to blow his whistle and remind them to walk. This makes me smile as it broadcasts that this truly is a safe place. It's not the dark and scary locale that my confused emotions have made it to be. It's the neighborhood pool, visited by tons of families, where kids have fun, chasing each other and playing whatever game they are playing.

Finally feeling comfortable, I select the deck chair I want to use, which I lay my towel on. Unlike last time when I wore a bikini, I wear a one-piece bathing suit this time as there's no way to rape me in this. That bikini, though not small, was too easy to pull down. This full bathing suit isn't going to go anywhere.

Laying in the chair, I feel the wide smile on my face. Relaxing even more, I decide to let the sun warm me to better my tan. Where maybe I'll take a nap, then go hop in the pool. The way the sun feels on my skin is so innocent and sweet, making the sounds of families having a good time relax me more.

After just a few minutes, it occurs to me that I didn't bring sunscreen. Without sunscreen, I'm most likely going to bake and get sunburned. Especially since I've been trapped inside so much lately, studying nonstop. This makes me grunt as the relaxed and peaceful mood gets interrupted.

Thankfully the pool provides one-time sunscreen packets. It's really weak sunscreen, but it is better than nothing. So I get up off my lounge chair and walk along the sidewalk towards the clubhouse, which is where the sunscreen display is kept.

People walk to and fro on the sidewalk, which continues to make me feel safe. Gossiping teens walk together, as do mothers and their small kids, along with middle-aged fathers doing their best to keep their guts sucked in when they see me, the college girl. Seeing all of them makes me remember that a single word would bring tons of people running to help. So if someone did try to grab me, he wouldn't get far at all.

Approaching the front of the clubhouse, the restrooms are on the right side of the building, which is fairly busy, while the display for the sunscreen is on the left, on the outside. Well, it's a display for sunscreen, band-aids, tampons and whatever else is stocked there.

"Need some help?" I ask a small girl who literally jumps to try and grab one of the sunscreen packets. The display is connected to the wall, which starts at roughly three feet up. The girl, who looks to be six or seven, is trying to get a packet from the very top shelf for whatever reason kids have.

The girl nods with a smile, pointing to the top shelf, her wet hair covering part of her face, showing she just got out of the pool. Smiling, I grab the packet for her, not asking why she doesn't take one from the bottom. There I hand it to her, to which she says thank you.

"Mommy says I have to put sunscreen every time I go in," the girl tells me as she struggles with ripping off the top of the packet. I nod at this to show that I'm listening, but don't say anything nor ask any questions. That could end up being a very long conversation as the girl looks very talkative.

"Don't make a sound," a man with the deepest voice ever growls into my ear from behind. At the same exact moment he speaks, I feel ice-cold machine-like hands on my hips, grabbing them in what is a clear warning. Grabbing them so hard it'll leave bruises.

"Look forward," the man hisses, digging his nails in to make me winch.

My vision goes into tunnel vision as cold fear pumps into me. Everything in front of me seems so very far away as I recognize that voice. It's HIM. It's the same man. I would recognize that voice anywhere. It's my rapist. The man from years ago.

My heart pounds so hard that I swear my breasts bounce from it. It causes blood to rush so hard in my body it becomes the only thing I can hear as it passes my ears. And more than anything, I feel both freezing cold and burning heat from the fear. The fear of what the man is planning to do and the fear that in some dark reality, I wanted this to happen.

"Otherwise Mommy will yell at me," the little girl continues, having no clue what's happened. Now that she managed to get the sunscreen packet open, she starts to pour some out, rubbing it on her arms in a sloppy manner.

My head shakes just a tiny bit in protest as the hands holding my hips move to my sides where they grab my wrists. With a soft whimper, I shake my head harder and tell the man "NO." That he can't do this. Not again.

My wrists are smoothly but firmly pulled behind my back. He does it calmly and without any aggression, moving my hands behind my back where he pins them together at the wrist. The way he does it is so sneaky as no one seems to notice. For the girl in front of me doesn't notice, nor do any of the others going to or from the restrooms on the sidewalk.

"Bye!" The little girl says in a cheery voice, tossing the sunscreen packet into the nearby trash can. She then runs off, no doubt to tell her mom she put sunscreen on. The girl doesn't look back or in any way know that I'm in trouble. That I need help.

"Walk," my rapist orders while pushing on my wrists behind my back.

I don't move. Instead I stay as I am, feeling him push me to get me going. My chest continues to heave from the fear, but I fight to work up the courage to turn around and sock him. Or to break my arm free and elbow him as hard as I can. To finally fight and not be a victim.

"I said WALK," the man says, his voice showing his annoyance.

Suddenly I gasp as I feel something I've never felt before. A feeling that is not just humiliating, but degrading. A feeling that makes me cringe as it racks me with pain and embarrassment. The man has grabbed a handful of my swimsuit in back and lifted, hard. Doing this causes the fabric to slip up and between my ass cheeks, bunching together.

I feel my face goes red as the man gives me a wedgie as if I was a nerd in school. Only he doesn't stop. He keeps pulling and pulling, stretching the fabric upward, making it very painful as it rubs against me. So much so that I move to my tiptoes.

"N-N-No!" I tell him in a defiant manner, refusing to move even as he pulls harder. I know the weird signals I must be putting out, for I'm not trying to run or pull my wrists away or scream.

The man then stops giving me a wedgie. He lets go but moves his free hand around to my front while still holding my wrists. There I feel his hand grab my swimsuit over my stomach. I feel him trying to get a handful of it, just like he did to my back.

This sends red flags up as I know what he means to do. He's going to give me another wedgie... but this time in front. And that's a feeling I don't want to experience. A feeling that my poor womanhood should never have to feel.

"Ok! Ok!" I concede, my voice showing that I give in. To accent this, I start to walk.

"You... you can't do this, please. Not again," I beg the man as he guides me. He's let go of my swimsuit, allowing it to move back into place, even if some of the fabric is bunched between my ass, but still holds my wrists.

"Shut up," the man growls, grabbing a hard handful of my ass that makes me yelp.

"Nooooooo, please!" I whine as he makes me walk to the left of the building, making me move behind the clubhouse altogether. There we quickly move onto the grass as there's no sidewalks back here.

Having never been behind the clubhouse, I see there is roughly ten or so feet between the building and wooden fence behind it, all of which is grass. And back here there are no windows or cameras as there would normally be nothing to see. Just an empty space with a bit of room.

The familiar fear strengthens as I see we are alone. Completely alone with no one knowing where I am as we are quite a ways from the side of the building. I'm alone with a rapist capable of who knows what. This fear makes me tremble, causing my eyes to tear up, wondering why in the hell they wouldn't block this area off.

The man has me walk so far from the corner, where he turns me so I face the brick wall. There he pushes me forward, making me press my front against the wall. He doesn't push hard or slam me, but it still feels uncomfortable as I press against it.

"Please, don't do this!" I beg with passion as he continues.

"Shut up, or I'll make you shut up," the man growls then grabs my wrists again. This time he pulls them to my sides, pinning them against my hips. After doing this, he let's go completely, confusing me to what he's doing.

"OH MY GOD," I gasp uncontrollably as the man reaches to my shoulders, grabs the straps of my swimsuit, and yanks down. He pulls the straps not just down my shoulders, but down my entire body... all the way to my feet.

In an instant, I'm naked. My swimsuit is yanked down to my ankles, exposing everything. He is so rough and strong he does it in a single yank, exposing me like I've never been before. With a single move, I am completely naked, my tits inches from the brick wall and him getting a good look at my bare ass.

In a moment of near insanity, I almost start laughing at myself for thinking wearing a one-piece was so smart. That there was no way for it to be removed. That I would be safe in it. It makes me remember just how stupid I am. Despite about to graduate with honors, I can be so fucking stupid.

In a daze, I feel the bastard pull on my swimsuit while it is around my feet, making me step out of it or fall over with how hard he pulls on it. This lets him snatch my swimsuit completely, leaving me not just naked, but helpless, where my hands move to the wall in hopes of helping me stabilize myself and not pass out. I start to hug the wall now, as if it will hide my nudity from the world.

Feeling entranced, I don't say anything when he starts wrapping my swimsuit around my head. He wraps it so it covers all of my face, scaring me. In panic I reach up and grab at it, frantically trying to pull the fabric up. There I manage to pull it up and past my mouth and nose, at least allowing me to breathe. But I don't dare pull it up more as I know he's doing this to act as a blindfold.

After I do this, I realize I probably made his life easier. That pulling up the swimsuit was what he was about to do. That I've become so complaint as a victim that I'm actually helping my rapist.

"Nooo," I whine as the man spins me around. Right after, he grabs my wrists again, this time lifting them up and over my head. He presses hard on my wrists, pinning them against the wall, as if saying without words, "keep them here."

Now my entire front can be seen. My trembling naked body is fully exposed. My breasts, my womanhood, everything. And with fear and dark desire running through me, I stay like this, not dropping my arms nor trying to turn to hide.

In the darkness I see, I feel intense desire. A sexual arousal that I've not felt before. It feels similar to what happened to be all those years ago, but it's different. This time I know what is happening. I understand what it means.

My body continues to tremble as my womanhood tingles hard. It seems to send out those dark tingles to course over my body, making me shudder repeatedly. And the tingling only seems to get stronger the longer I am left on display like this. In part, being on display fuels what I feel as I swear I feel his eyes looking over me like a trophy.

Another wave of tingling is set off when I ask myself why I don't do something. I'm fully capable, so why don't I? Why don't I start running? Why don't I pull off the swimsuit to see his face? Why don't I finally deserve the epic kick to the balls that I've waited for?

Because I want this. That's the real answer. Sure, I tell myself that I stay in place and don't move because he will hurt me, but that's not the real answer. Like a drug addict needing a fix, my body has been waiting for this.

The man doesn't say anything, nor does he touch me. So I stay as I am, feeling my own nakedness in public. Where I feel how my tits dangle lewdly, and my womanhood glistens as I feel how wet I am getting down there. For the first time, I feel sexy. I feel sexy because I feel like a sex object.

"Please..." the word comes out of me in reaction when I hear a sound that I've heard thousands of times, but it never felt as dangerous as it does now. And that's the sound of a camera shutter.

He's taking pictures of me.

I gently twist and turn just a bit as if there's somewhere to hide from the pictures he's taking, but ultimately, I stay where I am. I stand still, naked as can be as I hear him take picture after picture of me. Pictures of his victim. Of the dumb college girl that is so easily dominated. Of the dumb cunt that he can rape when he wants.

As I replay this last statement, I shock myself. Dumb cunt? Did I call myself that?! Never have I referred to myself, or anyone for that matter as a dumb cunt. Where did that come from? Why on earth would I think that? And why would I want to feel that?

A loud whimper comes out now as I feel lips on my right nipple. He's stopped with the pictures and is now leaning over to suck on my nipple. There I feel my rapist sucking my right nipple as he holds my breast in both hands, his tongue flicking over and over.

For what feels like hours he sucks on it, making it feel like a baby sucking on her momma's tit. He sucks on it hard too, pulling as much of my tit into his mouth while I am made to keep my arms over my head. Where I continue to be the victim and let him defile my body.

My rapist switches to my left breast where he repeats the process. He grabs hold of my left tit in his hands where he squeezes hard before sucking on it. Once it is in his mouth, he moves his tongue over the nipple again and again, making me twitch as he toys with my hard nipple.

Feeling my body betray me worse, I pout. My eyes, which were already filled with tears, start to release them slowly as my body is racked with such intense emotions. These tears get stronger as my rapist switches between my breasts, licking, sucking and biting as he wants.

"Tell me to motorboat your tits," my rapist orders in his deep, dark voice. Hearing him speak startles me, as I didn't think he would speak any more. Last time he barely spoke, doing it just to get me in position. Hearing him say this makes my brain flutter as I fight to comprehend what he said whilst being so emotional.

I am about to beg him to not make me say that, but then he squeezes my tits, HARD. Hard enough that it feels like he's trying to pop them. Hard enough that I tense up in order not to scream.

"Please motorboat my tits," I whimper out while on my tiptoes from his squeezing.

Chuckling, the bastard then puts his face between my breasts, pressing them against his stubble-filled face. He presses my breasts hard against his face, hard enough that it hurts as well as feel so darkly pleasurable.

My pouts become cries when I feel him shake his head while still between my tits. These cries become harder when I feel him sticking out his tongue, licking as he somehow turns from the side of one breast to another. As if to accent what he is doing, he makes a comical slobbering noise which I know is to mock me as I am letting him do this.

"You... you... have to stop," I manage to squeak out when his hand cups my womanhood. His face is on my breasts, but he's let go of them, now just licking and kissing my tits wherever he wants, seemingly in random places.

The hand on my womanhood grips it harder, making me shudder. In a weird way it feels like he means to grab and remove it to hold it for ransom. Where he can laugh and make me beg for it, telling him that I know he owns it.

Now he runs his hand up and down my slit, toying with it. He does this slow and gentle, all of his fingers running over my mound. His hand moves nearly to my ass where his palm presses over my slit, which is something I've never felt before.

I continue to cry as he moves his hand back and forth between my legs, moving it so far forward that the finger tips touch my clit, then moving it all the way that his hand runs over my ass. My crying intensifies as his middle finger moves between my ass cheeks when he pushes his hand that far back. It digs between my cheeks each time, getting closer and closer to my most private body part.

Crying hard while feeling damn aroused, he runs his hand over my womanhood again and again, not caring what it is doing to me. In fact, I hear him chuckling as I keep reacting to what he's doing. Each time his hand moves over my slit, I shudder and quiver due to being so sensitive. That's probably why he does it, he likes the look on my face as he violates me.

A clear and solid moan comes out of me when he lifts his hand and places two fingers on my clit. My body tenses and that cold fear returns when he starts to rub, doing like he did last time. When he started to rub my clit while under water, in the middle of the crowded pool.

Feeling high, my body gets so warm as he pleasures my clit. The warmth grows hotter as I feel how tired my arms have gotten from having to keep them over my head, yet I don't dare move them. Or how I feel how wide my legs have spread to the point I feel the burn, which I know he didn't make me do. I feel myself sinking into submission, causing the warmth to pulse and throb.

"No, please," I beg him, knowing what he means to do, which is to rub my clit till I cum, just like he did last time. When I say this, I hear how excited my voice is. How though I beg him to stop, my voice shows I want the opposite.

There's no response from him but there are crying moans from me as he keeps using those two fingers to rub my softening clit. He rubs in circles, pressing hard and then soft. Doing it in a demanding manner, knowing it is his to play with.

Unable to help it, I squirm from the shivers of pleasure this brings. This movement makes my breasts, which feel coated with his slobber, swing and sway. It makes them feel overly lewd and damn sexy, which is something I've not felt. Where I can feel proud at having large tits instead of trying to hide them in conversative ways.

I don't try to stop or hide the moans now. They start far apart, but the longer he rubs, the faster they become. Soon I begin to nonstop moan as I feel the orgasm lay down its tracks as it bubbles up from within me.

Sensing that I am about to cum, my rapist stops rubbing and starts to tap on my clit. He stops rubbing completely, but taps between my legs with full hand, with the palm hitting my clit and the fingers on my slit.

In a moment that threatens to send me to the looney bin, I damn near demand that he go back to rubbing my clit. To stop what he's doing and make it like before. That I don't want what he is doing. That I want to cum at him playing with my clit in that sexy manner.

But I know him changing is the point. He knows how worked up I am and is showing his power over me. Instead of allowing me to cum to something that could be considered normal, he's going to force me to cum to something perverted. To cum from something that only a victim could get off with.

My body twitches and jerks each time he taps between my legs. These aren't hard slaps but firm pats which drive me crazy. My body wants full, long contact but instead gets short fierce taps, making me want to scream. It both denies the pleasure I want and gives me what I darky need.

I hunch over when he starts to tap much faster. My legs spread even wider, making me feel like I'm about to do some sort of whore-splits. As I do, a low groan comes out of me from the wave of pleasure moving over me. It moves up and down, causing me to keep moaning as my orgasm keeps building. It feels like a man going up a ladder, about to climb over the top and be freed.

The loud clap sound hits my ears before I feel the result. It sounds like someone performed a single clap but then I feel that he's slapped my pussy. Slapped it hard. Slapped it and laughed.

My orgasm is finally released and is so very intense. Extremely intense. But what makes it erupt isn't the tapping or the slap. It's from a simple thought that popped in my head. And the thought is that if some stranger walks back here, they wouldn't know I'm being raped. They would think we are two perverts getting off. That I signed up for this. That I want this.

"Please... no..." I beg the world as my orgasm overtakes me. The waves of pleasure move, going foot to head, peaks to valleys as they only grow stronger. My body quivers and jerks as I feel it, my back arching to push my tits out uncontrollably as my ass scraps the wall behind.

My body becomes overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of my orgasm. Lost in my own lust, I feel how the bastard only cups my womanhood again but doesn't rub or do anything. To show how far I've fallen, he makes me push my own crotch against his hand, desperate for his touch against my sex. Like a dog in heat, I rock my hips to feel my clit and slit against his hand, allowing my orgasm to reach an insane height.

When my orgasm passes, I sob. I cry and cry, ashamed of myself and how much I enjoyed that. Tears fall in my darkness, with me having to feel how much I have degraded myself. How I have humiliated myself, making me not a strong, smart young woman but a sick sex freak that deserves to be used behind buildings in public.

"Come on, stop," I beg my rapist as he grabs my right leg and lifts it upward. He lifts it at the knee, making my legs spread even more as it goes up. Then, to make a point he slams my leg against the brick wall in an uncomfortable manner.

My breathing picks up again as I know he's going to penetrate me. He'll put that dick of his right against my opening and shove it in. Cram it in to dominate me as if I was the inferior dog in some pack roaming around the neighborhood. Where to him I'm just a cock-receptacle.

Suddenly the man lets go of my leg. As I wasn't expecting this I nearly fall forward as that's where my weight was leaning. He stops this from happening by grabbing my head. I let out a gasp of shock at this, as I don't know what's happening, nor can I see anything.

In the most humiliating and demeaning moment of my life, I feel his cock enter my mouth. I feel it enter my mouth where I know exactly what it is before I understand what is happening.

I then find he's forced my head down, forcing me to bend over where he shoved his dick into my open mouth. Since I was crying out, he is able to do this with ease. I'm now bent over, my ass touching the wall, with a hard cock in my mouth. A stranger's hard, throbbing cock at that. A cock buried deep in my mouth where I can taste the fleshy taste of it.

No words are said as we stay like this, his cock in my mouth while I remain bent over. I take this to mean that we both know what he wants me to do. And so, after a few moments where I whimper and cry, my lips close around his member.

Moving slow as this all feels like a dream, I move my head backward, allowing his hard cock to slide over my lips. Doing this is the most degrading thing I've ever felt, and it drives me insane with arousal. This arousal is tripled when he grabs my hands that are holding onto him for support and makes me put them behind my back.

Never have I had to perform oral sex like this. Where the man just shoved his dick in my mouth and it was expected I would suck him off. For that very reason moving my lips up and down his member is damn exciting.

My head moves up and down his shaft repeatedly, sucking gently as I let my tongue move all over, especially over the cockhead. Each time I go down I go a bit faster and deeper, wanting it to feel good for him. Of course this is only to make it so he'll finish faster.

In what is clearly a power move, my rapist keeps his hands on my head. He doesn't move my head but does keep his hands on it as a threat. So I keep sucking his cock, feeling my breasts swing as I move faster and faster. As I do this, I can't help but moan as the pulsing from within me gets so intense.

The man doesn't moan, groan or say anything. He just stands there, making me suck his cock as if he is not enjoying it. I can't even look up at him to see his reaction thanks to the swimsuit covering my face. This makes me feel stupid, as if I'm not doing a good job. But how can that be? It's sucking a dick, which every guy likes no matter how bad it is.

Getting a bit aggressive, I start making his cock go much deeper in my mouth. On purpose I make it go past the point I want, where I feel my stomach tense as I gag. I hold back the feeling, wanting his dick to go as far as it can. Then I go down again, determined to take it even deeper and repeat the process.

Gagging sounds come out of me making me feel beyond lewd. They are sounds that you can't even pretend are something other than what they are. Anyone hearing them would know that I'm gagging on a cock. That I'm deep throating a cock, letting it go so deep it threatens to go into my throat.

Drool pours over my chin as I don't stop or pause. My face even starts to hit his stomach as I manage to take all of his cock in my mouth. Continuing this, I start to pause once his dick is completely in my mouth so he can savor the feeling. Not to mention it is a scary, powerful feeling to feel a dick this far in your mouth.

I nearly scream when my rapist pulls me off his member. He doesn't say anything before he does it, just grabs me and yanks, sending my back towards the wall as he forces me to stand. This time I smack against the wall hard, the back of my head hitting the brick.

Wrapped in my arousal daze, my mind goes fuzzy from hitting my head against the brick. Everything spins for a moment where my body feels oddly limp. When the fuzziness eases, I find he's holding my hands over my head in one hand, while his other hand is lifting my right knee up again. But then I feel what is really going on.

He's raping me again.

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open as I feel his cock in me. I feel the large, hard member inside my cunt, pushing my sensitive womanhood apart. Feel it moving up and down, sliding easily within me, pushing me open.

He shoved his dick in while in this standing position, where my wet pussy clings to it. Then he started to fuck me, making me feel the strange friction that only comes from a cock rubbing against my insides. It must have been easy for him to get it inside me.

Each thrust is hard and sharp, where it feels like he's trying to impale or hurt me rather than have sex. Each thrust forces my body to bounce, my tits bouncing wildly, not to mention making me moan loud.

My rapist doesn't press his body against mine as a lover would do. There's no closeness or intimacy at all. Instead he keeps his upper body back, only connecting us at the crotch where he keeps thrusting as if he hates me.

I make no move to fight or flee. Instead I turn my head and moan, loving the feeling of being raped again. I hear the wet sex sounds of my own pussy as his cock violates me. Where I feel the way his cock opens my pussy more and more, stealing the tightness of it, wanting to ruin it.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I start to whisper under my breath each time he thrusts, not caring if he hears or not. My entire body becomes as hot as fire now as I've given into the desire and arousal. Where I fully accept that I'm a victim and it's all I wanted since the day he first took me. To feel the helpless and sexy feeling of being a sex object for a man again. To be a toy. Something to fuck and not care about.

Unlike before when he was calm and quiet, the man is extremely aggressive. Matching his forceful thrusts, he nonstop grunts and growls like an animal. I can tell he is moving as fast as he can, truly hate fucking me. To make sure that any sex I have after this will be pathetic.

My long and soft moans soon become short and loud as I feel another orgasm building. While the first orgasm felt like a light bulb slowly increasing in light, this orgasm feels like the sun about to shine over the horizon. It feels so powerful and strong that I'm scared of how it will feel once it hits.

I sink into the pleasure of my pussy being destroyed, but as I do, my own betraying thoughts fuel the dark feeling. Thoughts of wondering if anyone hears the thudding of him ramming into my pussy. Or wondering that if any woman heard me, would they want to be me? Or would they think I'm just a dirty whore who is getting what she deserves?

And more than anything, I wonder if there's a crowd watching me. Since I am unable to see, there could be an entire crowd watching me be raped. Smiling and cheering him on as he destroys the stupid whore who let this happen, again. With men wanting to be him, and women hoping he ruins my pussy.

I understand what was missing from the first time now. When he raped me, it felt like everyone knew what was going on. That they knew he was raping me. Only they felt that it wasn't worth their time because I deserved it. So they pretended not to notice, letting the dirty slut take her punishment in the form of a cock up her cunt. That I was so low and lewd that I wasn't even worthy of a glance at being violated.

This time there is no denying what is happening. Anyone that hears would know I'm being fucked. That he's teaching me a lesson. The lesson that he owns my sex.

"Thank me, whore," I hear the man grunt, sounding out of breath.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you... for raping me," I stammer out almost at once, saying what he wants. And this is what sends me over the edge.

The orgasm that was creeping is finally released. It hits with passion, making the darkness of what I see turn to bright light. In that light the most intense feelings ever overtake me.

It feels like a balloon of pleasure was being blown up inside me, and now it's popped. It sends such intense pleasure and emotions over me that for a moment I truly think I'm dying. That my heart, brain and all organs are going to stop working from how intense it is. But I don't even get to understand this fear as the waves of pleasure race over me.

Wave after wave moves over me, each one faster and stronger than the one before. The joy takes on the colors of Christmas lights, each color representing a different type of pleasure as they move over me. And my body sinks into an endless ocean of warmth, making me wonder if my body has turned into a pile of goo.

I feel my body but have no control over it. I feel the way I arch my back hard and actually shove my tits in his face. Where his face goes between my breasts again and he aggressively kisses and sucks. Just as I feel the way I rock my hips hard, thrusting them towards him with each thrust as if trying to twerk.

If there's video of this, no jury in the world would convict him of rape. They would see me and how I act at this moment and know I wanted it. That I rape baited him into doing this and got what I was after. That if anything, he's the victim.

Right as the peak of my orgasm hits, I feel him thrust a hard thrust and lift my entire body up with just his hips. He makes my back scrape against the brick wall when he does this, pinning me in place while impaling me with his cock.

Lifted by his hips with his cock buried in me, he cums. I feel him unleash his seed in me, making me moan my last moans as the waves of my orgasm start their fast decline. They start fading but leave me sensitive and warm as well as ashamed and guilty.

My mouth is still wide open as I feel all the cum that is pumped in me. When I've had sex before, my boyfriends would shoot maybe two small puffs of cum out. It would shoot out with just a bit of force, making it more of a sign that they finally reach the finish line, while he forcefully pumps me full of his seed. It's like his cock wants to make sure it goes as deep as it can in me.

My rapist then pulls out of me and let's go while stepping back. As my body is weak and limp at this point, I fall to the ground. My body plops straight down, landing right on my ass, hard. Hard enough that it knocks a bit of the wind out of me, not that I care.

I sit on the grass, my legs still spread wide apart. My arms are limp at my sides as well as so very tired from being lifted so much. My chest heaves up and down frantically, my body trying hard to calm down.

Sometime later, I reach up and grab my swimsuit that's still wrapped tight around my head. I pull it up and off my head, finally letting me see again. I have to blink several times as the sun makes everything brighter than what my insides want it to be. Where I've been in a world of my own dark sexual desires, which clash with the sun.

I'm not surprised in the slightest to see that I'm alone. Like before, my rapist raped me and left before I could see anything about him. He came in, stole my pussy and left with my dignity. This time leaving me a crying mess behind the clubhouse, where I didn't think anything like this could happen, again.

Content, as it feels like an impossible itch has been scratched, I sit not worrying if someone is going to check on me. Tears softly roll down my cheeks as a smile moves over my face at the way I feel. The intense sexual pleasure combined with how ashamed I feel make me so conflicted. Where I know so many people would be disappointed in me, which only strengthens the reason why it is so hot.

Chuckling to myself, I bring my hand to between my legs. There my fingers find my clit where I start to rub. I rub gently but firmly, unlike how my rapist did. But in my head, I hear his voice. I hear him telling me to play with myself until I cum. That I'm not to stop, even if someone does come back here to check on me. I'm to bring myself to climax.

Moaning after a few moments of doing this, I already feel another orgasm building. This time the pleasure comes from thoughts of how I could make him rape me yet again.