Rape Stories
Warning!You must be over 18 for read this story with rape, if you not like such stories, please turn back. I don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read not more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Any man who commit rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right if they not hurt somebody.Bad Girlby Gray BlurIt’s been like six months since I raped Jenna. God, time sure does fly when you’re having fun. Ever since that night I made some new Internet friends. I told the truth about myself to some of them, but not the whole truth in the cases of potential victims. Why do they need to know my real name? But then again, I’ll be careful enough to get people who won’t talk, won’t tell anyone about me attacking them. I got a large selection of victims and I’ll know them inside-out (no pun intended) before I fuck them. Anyway, since Jenna’s rape I got to meet and fuck some more of my Internet women, when in most cases it was non-consensual. Jenna didn’t give me too much trouble. She didn’t want to talk about it, she just said that she forgives me (???) and that she promises not to tell anyone. All she said is that I should seek help and that she hopes I won’t hurt anyone like that again. When writing back to her, I played the part of the ‘good-boy-turned-bad’ just right, and she believed I was sorry. I know it’s a little arrogant, but when you rape women of every ethnicity and social-economic status throughout the United States without getting caught, it boosts up your self worth. Sex is amazing, no matter if it’s consensual or not. Like with this one girl, Dana. I’ve been talking to her online for about 8 months online. I met her about 3 months after I started my rape series. She was working at this bar, and loved doing it in there after closing time. She’s been wanting to get me in there for a long while. I decided that it won’t be so bad if a slut like that got a little roughed up. Girls like her practically ask for it. She was about 5’8 or 5’9. Not the most attractive face, but goddamn, what a body. It wasn’t a problem to get laid with a body like that (and I’ve seen her nude pics). She had a long dark curly hair that went all the way to her back, and little brown eyes that just begged for sex. As I said, we talked and cybered for about 8 months, and by the time I got to her home town, and notified her I’m there through the messenger service, we both got so horny that she just begged me to meet her and fuck her brains out. We decided to meet at a street corner not far from my motel, and just head down to the pub. I got out of the motel at about 1am and started heading to the meeting point. It was pouring, windy and freezing cold. Oh, well, at least I was to warm myself up pretty soon. Through the raindrops I could see a tall figure standing in the street corner, covered with a big blue coat. She saw me approaching her and took the cape of her head as I got to her. I could see her face, her wet curly hair. It was her all right, in the flesh. She smiled as she saw my frustrated expression (you try walking around in THAT rain with just a thin jacket before you pass judgement) as the fucking rain soaked me up. As we got there she took a key out of her coat and opened the back door. She sat down on a table with her legs wide open. “I like being here at nights.” Damn, this girl was horny! I smiled. “Yeah, sure. If you insist.” I started walking towards her. I would love to feel her breasts, check out the merchandise before buying. Not that it mattered. I was to fuck her anyway, and it will hurt her, I swear to god! “Or do you just wanna fuck?” She said as I reached for her right breast with my left hand. “Do you love me?” She asked in between kisses. That was the time to test her limits. I swung my hand in the air and slapped across the bitch’s face. I was in shock. How far will she be willing to go? How the fuck am I gonna rape a girl who can’t say no? Should I just stick with raping the good girls? No, bad girls deserve it more. I grabbed her by the hair and spun her towards the mirror at the sinks. She put her hands at the sink as if I was about to frisk her. I took down her pants to discover she wore black stockings underneath. I shoved my cock into her pussy, knowing exactly what I’m about to do next. I pinned her into the fucking sink. I just slammed myself into her with anger, with hate. She loved every second of it. Through the mirror I could see her face. She was snapping her head back, swinging her hair, closing her eyes, opening her mouth with loud moans of pleasure. I kept on fucking her. I wasn’t sure if she was about to cum, but I knew I was. I slowly got out of her, not wanting to pleasure her all the way. The expression on her face slowly turned from pleasure to surprise. “Hey, what happened?” “Give me a blowjob. I’ll fuck you later.” I figured I better ask her to blow me BEFORE it turns to rape. I don’t like putting my cock in mouths of people who hate me. “That was a mistake.” She said as she started gathering her clothes. When we were both in our birthday suits I started slipping my cock back into her, and got it out again. “Tom, what the fuck?” “You like it up the ass, Dana?” I could feel her trying to fight her dizziness, trying to turn around and face me, fight me off, but it’s a little hard to face someone who is shoving his cock up your ass. I shoved it with every intention of hurting her. I wanted her to know who’s running the show from now on. I rammed my cock in her ass even stronger than when I did in her pussy. I guess it was because I knew fucking her ass would hurt her more. I felt as if I was in a trans. I stopped hearing what was going on, didn’t focus my eyes, just kept shoving and shoving, occasionally noticing her cries of pain. Looking back I now remember she kept moaning and crying the entire time. I just didn’t give it much thought at the time. When I came to, I just came (yeah, read that again. Same word - different meaning). Dana’s head was dropped with her face towards the sink. The water tap was just above her head, so I opened the hot water. She squirmed a little but I held a fistful of her hair and kept her head in until I felt my hand burning. That was when I took her head out of the sink and punched her in the face (by that time I was with my cock soft, out of her). As she fell to the floor she started weeping. So anyway, I lit it up, got on my knees next to Dana and blew the smoke in her face. Nevertheless I muffled her with my hand as I burned it on her belly. I wanted to see if she would dare to fight me, dare to bite me. She didn’t do anything, just a muffled cry you wouldn’t even hear in a clear day (and I mentioned the chaos outside). I kept my hand on her mouth as I entered her now burned pussy. I squeezed her mouth, staring at the terror in her eyes. I gotta tell you, I raped a lot of women and girls, who were a lot more naive than Dana, and not as sophisticated or familiar with the real world, but Dana’s eyes were the most frightened I’ve ever seen. That surprised me. Of all of my victims, she should have fought the most, showing no fear. Frankly, I was a little disappointed in her. I continued fucking her, and she did not stop whipping and moaning for one second. She kept looking at me, into my eyes, as if it was the only way she could try to resist me. She just kept on begging me with her eyes, her face so close to mine, but I don’t have to tell you – it’s the begging that makes us all turned on, isn’t it? When I was done I turned her over on all fours and started smacking her ass. All she did from the moment I got my hand off her mouth was weep. I just couldn’t believe it. How much can the biggest slut in town cry over a roughed up fucking? She was such a wimp. I think I liked her more when she was a dominant bitch. While I was smacking her ass I also lit up another cigarette. I played with her ass a little, fingering it, and that was the turning point. When I say turning point I mean that she turned on her back and started fighting back, slapping on my wrists and arms. I immediately got on top of her and slapped on her pussy. This time she tried to stop herself from screaming and just cried. She cried softly, getting used to the horrible torture. “I got our chat saved, baby. I got all of it. If you talk, people will see it. They’ll see what slut you are. And I’m sure I can get dozens of guys who’d testify and say exactly what you’ve done with them.” I rose up, and she slowly got on her knees, crying. She held my cock and start rubbing it with her hand. Then she took me in her mouth and started blowing. I felt as if my legs were about to give in, but I remained standing. After that she pretty much let me do whatever I wanted with her. I fucked her up the ass, forcing her to play along and push against me. I pulled her hair back the whole time. I laid her on her back and forced my way into her pussy. At that point she objected and fought me off. I fought with her as she begged me not to do it, crying her eyes out. I shoved myself inside her as fast as I could, watching the pain in her eyes, the sharp pain from the cigarette and the humiliation. As I rammed in her pussy I swore to myself that at one point or another, this bitch will hear from me again. I say that all the time, positive that each new girl is something special and that I’ll have to see her again, but eventually a week later I forget all about it and she becomes just another name on my list. Not this time. “Dana, honey, when this is over I’ll be gone.” I lean ed to kiss her again, and she kissed me back. Damn, she was a good kisser. Most girls kiss better when it’s consensual, but she was different. During my first rape I thought Jenna was a good kisser. That was before I met Dana. As I was lost in my thoughts I felt her body twitching. She started moaning into my mouth, trying to break the kiss. Now I’m not sure, but I think I felt her getting wetter (my fingers were in her pussy). I took my fingers out of her pussy and shoved my cock back in her like I’ve been doing for god knows how many times. She winced a little, but kept her eyes open. Her expression wasn’t much different from what it was a couple of seconds ago. She was in pain, but she accepted it. The terror I saw before wasn’t there, just pain and determination. Determination to go through with it, to survive. I was sort of worried, because I did not want her to be mentally strong. At least not strong enough to call the cops when I’m gone. But quickly the tears in her eyes started forming again, and she cried like a baby all throughout the rape.
“Now listen up, Dana. I’m gonna leave. You clean up this mess we left at the bar while cleaning you up, get dressed, and go home. When you’re home I want you to take a hot shower, clean yourself up again, and pretend this night never happened. You hear me?” On my way back to the motel I started having feelings of regret. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. After all, she was a slut, and I didn’t use a condom! What the fuck? What if I got something from her? Should I go get tested? Nah, life is a gamble. I was in more danger from the law than I was from Dana. Besides, I fucked lots of women before Dana, including divorced women above 40, which are the largest AIDS group in this country. Who knows, maybe I gave Dana something. Well, I guess she’ll go get tested, and if she won’t try to get back at me, it means I didn’t give her any disease. Hell, who cares? I’ve been putting myself in danger from the get go. This rape doesn’t change anything. It’s one of many I did, and Dana’s first. Maybe there will be others. As I got into my bed it started raining again. It was 4:00am and still totally dark. I slowly fell asleep to the sound of the raindrops striking my window.
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