Saturday

Posted by Rache on July 22, 2001 at 19:02:30:

(m/f,non-snuff,rape,rope,pierce,romantic)
Saturday

by Rachael

Saturday July 21. I have dreamed. Like always and it is moving away from me. Clear thoughts, which a moment before made wonderful magical sense, are now jumbled and confused. I don't know where I am, I keep my eyes closed. I can feel pain, between my legs, across my back. Oh yes, last night. It comes back in bits and pieces. Remembering and wanting to remember. I feel the need to use the bathroom, my bladder is pushing me to get up. But I don't want to. I don't want to move.

I'm on my side, facing the edge of the bed, eyes opening against the dim light. I can see a picture on the wall. A photograph of a lily, white and black. Robert Mapplethorp. It looks like a ghost, virginity lost I think. A memory caught forever on glossy matt finish. Behind me Paul is asleep, but not totally. I can feel him, hard again, the way he was when I fell asleep. His penis is pushing against me, between my thighs and it feels good. I used to hate waking up and feeling him aroused when I was not. I used to hate a lot of things, until I didn't have them anymore.

I shift and feel a thousand little pains rising through my body. But it reminds me of what I want, what I always want. I feel Paul moving, asleep? A reflex to my own discomfort? Or is he waking, feeling the heat of my sex so near his own? I want to use the bathroom, clean myself. But I want him to use me too, I want to feel him before I have to face myself in the mirror. I hate looking at my face. The too wide mouth and narrow eyes. I'm suspicious of myself. My thoughts are so obvious to me, I wonder how it is I can bear to see anyone else. I push back a little, lifting my leg so that his cockhead comes in contact with my sex. Paul's arm moves over me, sliding down to cup my breast. The needles are gone I realize and it makes me a little sad. he squeezes me softly and I feel his hips move, pushing slowly inside me. I'm dry at first and it is uncomfortable, but inside I'm wet and it feels nice.

We make love like that, very slowly. I can feel the dull throb of my bruises. And the sharp tiny flashes that never quite disappear whenever his body touches the long welts, which criss-cross my thighs and butt. It is a sensation I enjoy, I've missed it. He's moving inside me, deliberately pulling almost completely out and then sliding back as deeply as possible. My nipple is between his fingers and his mouth is in my hair, on my neck. He's breathing me. And I close my eyes, feeling the pressure in my bladder, wondering if he feels it too. It will be a long time before he will cum, I know it. I've been here before, marathon morning sex. I start moving myself against him, I can't help it. My body does as it will, I try to remember my dream while my senses are slowly overwhelmed by his touch and kiss and smell and sound. Only the darkness is mine, eyes shut to the pain and pleasure.

How long? 10 minutes? 15 or 20? Of slow delicious fucking. I'm jamming my pussy back on him, impaling myself over and over again. I can't cum, that lofty plateau isn't mine this morning. But it's wonderful anyway, I enjoy it. The feeling of being one with somebody else. He's wrapped around me, his strong thigh over mine. His arms around me, pulling my to rest on his shoulder as he pushes endlessly in and out. I have to pee, I tell him softly, in a whisper. And at first I think he hasn't heard me, or that I said it only into the darkness. But he relents, he holds himself inside me and it's okay. A slight moan and a little chuckle, so does he.

We both go into the bathroom, into the shower. It is small and tight and glass. He turns on the water and his hardness is pressed against my tummy. His hands slide down to cup my ass, squeezing them in a moment of beautiful pain. I have my arms around him too and he kisses me as the hot spray streams over our bodies. I let my bladder go, unashamed. My urine splashes out in a heavy stream, mostly between my thighs, but some on him, being washed away. Down the drain, I didn't even notice it. He pulls me close, and his tongue is thick in my mouth as he lets his own body release, a stream of heat against my body, washing between us and gone forever, forgotten.

He turns me around, stroking himself. he bends his knees, positioning his still hard manhood at me anus. No, I don't want it there. Not now. I want it in me, inside my womb. I turn my head to look at him, as he works the head back and forth, pushing upward. No, I say. Please, not yet, not now. he looks at me and smiles. I know he thinks it's just a game. Another one of my lies. I've lied so much, so many times. Just to get what I want. The head is right at my tightness, he reaches around me, grabbing my breasts and digging his fingers into them. Hurting them, taking great fistfuls of my body and twisting cruelly. I put my hands on the wall and cry out. It hurts, it's not what I want! No! I scream it and I try to pull away, but I can't. He rams his cock inside me, raping me suddenly and I feel my body tearing as he enters.

This is what he wants. What he thinks I want. The pain is searing, like being ripped inside. My tits are being ripped off and I'm screaming, reaching around, over my head, trying to scratch his face, push him away. But it's no use, the hot water pours over us as he thrusts again, deeper, splitting me with his strength. I cry out and feel like something is broken inside me. A sharp pain like a knife twisting in my guts. He starts fucking me, raping me while I just hang there. His hands hold me up. I'm impaled on his cock and I can't tell if I'm crying because the water keeps running into my eyes.

Paul pushes me up, against the wall. It feels cold against my face and breasts and stomach as he drives his cock into my ass. He's going to cum fast now, I hold on to that thought, waiting for him to finish. I'm sobbing, my breath is pushed out with every push inside. I grab the hot metal showerhead above me and hang onto it. Pulling on it as I feel my body yielding finally, letting him slide in and out faster, more easily. Be over quickly, please, just do it. I keep begging him, silently. Out loud. I don't know. My eyes are closed again and I feel his hands on my back and neck. Shoving me against that wall. Smashing me while he uses me. I'm not a person anymore.

Finally his cock spills it's useless life into my ass. He grunts and groans and squeezes my neck with his hand, pressing my face against the wall while his balls empty inside me. I hate right then. Not just him but me too. It's like before. The illusion of love is torn away. Washed away, spilling down my thighs and into nothing when Paul pulls out of me. I don't move, just stay like that. Like he was still pushing me, keeping me in the corner while he washes himself. Paul touches me, with soft soapy hands. But I shrug him away, no. He steps out without a word, sliding the glass door behind him. Separating us. I stay like that for awhile and then I sit down. But it hurts. The welts and bruises from the night before. The pain inside from being sodomized. I put a finger to my anus, pushing it inside slightly, away from the falling water. And it comes out red with blood and smeared with semen.

After. It's almost noon he made me breakfast. Like nothing happened. I'm supposed to be oh so happy he made me feel hurt so good. I look at myself in the mirror. I hate myself because I won't leave. I hated what he did but I didn't hate it as much as being alone. I look at my body in the mirror, turning so I can see my back. I'm black and blue and there are places where the skin is gone, little spots that leave blood when I touch it gently with the towel. My breasts are bruised, a little. Only a little and I can see his fingers, all 10 imprinted on my body. And now I do what I hate the most. I lay down and masturbate. The door is locked and he's yelling because my eggs are getting cold. But I want to cum. I remember last night and this morning and it's good. I remember everything and run my hands along the back of my thighs as I finger myself. I'm going to cum I just need a push. I just need to remember something, what he did. How he took me making me take it. yessss...I am cumming, spilling my wetness between my fingers. I suck them, licking them clean, thinking and remembering the way he used me.

I hate that.

After lunch Paul takes me shopping. The mall, Belles Fair. He missed me and he wants to prove it. You already did I say and he laughs. Yeah, but he wants to give me something. It's hard for me to sit, everyway I try is uncomfortable. I end up riding on my hands and he thinks that's funny. We talk about my doctor and my meds and my group he wants to know if anything is different. Obviously not. I let him rape me, sane people don't do that do they? I took a Prozac and another birth control with my orange juice. It makes me want to throw up. I just look out the window. Why did I come? This morning I knew. And last night. But here in the daylight I want to go home.

At the mall I follow him sullenly. My spirit is hiding, I watch my feet move and feel the tug of his hand. Paul is becoming angry, his fingers tight. He's been so excited, waiting to show me something. But I'm ignoring it and he doesn't like it. My body hurts, I feel myself walking differently, the muscles in my ass sore, aching and it feels like everyone can tell. I don't want to see those people. I don't want them to see me. I wonder how it is we got here. How did I ever come out of the shower, out of the bed?

Paul is leading me to a jewelry store. Brilliant glass treasure chests blazing with wants. I'm afraid to look, It makes me feel worse. Even more plain and undesirable. I have 5 pieces of jewelry that are mine. A small gold cross on a chain and 4 earrings. All the rest belonged to my mother, I don't wear them. Paul is talking to the saleswoman, I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She looks clean, business-like. I wonder if she has scars. She looks fake and I forget her. Watching the way my dozen shadows in various shades of gray dance when I move. So many lights, nothing to hide here.

I hear someone, asking me to look at something. But I just stand there. Paul's voice is strained, he's embarrassed and that cheers me a little. The saleswoman is patient, she's seen everything. Even little girls who don't want to be spoiled. And that's what I feel like, I stick my lower lip out a little, enjoying my new self-image. Paul sighs and finally buys whatever it is he's looking at. He shoves the small blue box in my face and I look away. I just want to go, I say, I'm sorry. He doesn't say anything, he just drags me through the mall and out, into the parking lot. It's starting to rain lightly. And Paul starts asking me what's wrong with me. It's just like before, he says. I haven't changed, he says. It's not his fault, it's mine. He never knows how to please me, when I want what I want. He can't figure it out. Welcome to the club, I say.

The day is all messed up. I start thinking about it on the way home. Home? Is it really home? It felt like it before, it's so easy to say. We haven't really talked about anything yet. I don't want to bring it up. I want to go home tomorrow, I just don't know if he'll let me. I start telling him I'm sorry. And I mean it because I don't know what's going on. Why I act like this. I slide over on the seat, the pain in my ass and thighs reminds me of last night. And how much I needed what he gave me. I put my head against Paul's arm and tell him I just don't feel well, I want to go home and relax. Make it up to him. He puts his arm around me, it's what he wants to hear. He wants to believe me and so do I.

My mind is changing, like it always does. It frustrates me. Angers me sometimes because I have no control. And if it's bad for me it's worse for the people around me. Paul's forgotten I think. But it's coming back.

He tells me he's sorry about this morning. he thought I wanted it, he doesn't understand sometimes that no really does mean no. I kiss him and tell him it doesn't. No never means no, Paul. I rub his cock through his pants and he laughs. He says someday he's going to kill me because I say no once too often. The thought thrills me and I ask if that's a promise. His hard cock is throbbing and he doesn't say anything and neither do I. It's okay now, I feel better. I ask him what's in the box and he tells me now I have to wait.

In his apartment everything is quiet. It is dark inside and I like it. Dark thoughts fill my head and I want no light to ruin my new mood. I'm on the couch, a stripe of vertical light coming between the curtains over my shoulder. Paul tells me to undress, he wants to give me my present. I don't know what it is, jewelry I suppose. I take off my blouse and bra, my skirt and panties. I am naked, rubbing my hand along the rough lines on my butt. I love the way they feel. Paul gets my pins from where he put them last night. He doesn't say anything, he hands me the box while he starts sucking on one of my nipples. It gets hard fast. So fast, it's aching. I open the box, it's earrings. Golden hoops as big around as my thumb, with small pearls, shaped like tears hanging from each one. They're simple and beautiful.

Do you like them, he asks me and I have to say yes. I do like them. I take one out and hold it as he pushes the long silver pin through the hard little nub of my nipple. It is a long sharp sensation, one I never tire of and it's better this time because someone else is doing it. I spread my legs, and my cunt glistens in the thin ray of light.

Paul takes the earring from my fingers and pulls it apart, a thin round curve which slides almost effortlessly through the new hole in my nipple and into a curving hollow on the other side, closing itself. I am pierced. He repeats it on my other breast and I have to smile. It is so simple, so nice. Pearl tears, like drops of pale milk leaking from my breasts. Only the tiny drops of blood remain, and even that isn't very much at all.

I want him so bad, inside me. The urge to run is long gone, melted away by whatever chemicals my brain produces at random. Now I feel the need again and so does he. But he wants more, he tells me I have to pay for those earrings. For being a bitch today at the store. I know he's right, I always deserve to be punished. I long for it.

He leaves me, flicking at my new treasures and pulling them, feeling my tits stretching. I pull them up, lifting my small breasts and I wish the rings were steel. A vision of being pulled off my feet by them makes my body shiver. It's a delicious thought and I pull them hard, until I'm afraid I'll break the thin gold rings.

Paul returns. he has brought rope with him, white nylon and soft, supple. He ties my hands, tightly behind my back. And then again at the elbows, pulling them together painfully. I can feel my shoulder blades moving, cracking as they strain. It is wonderful, arching my back and pushing my decorated tits out.

He ties another, shorter length of rope around my neck. A slipknot he can pull tightly, he pushes me onto the floor so that I am on my knees with the right side of my face on the carpet. He fingers my sex as he talks to me, telling my how beautiful I am. How sexy I am. He wants me to be his good girl, to let him do what he wants. I'm moaning and saying yes over and over, agreeing to anything. My pussy is wet and hot and hungry for him.

He tells me has to punish me. he doesn't want to, but he has to. Do I understand? I am moaning, his fingers sliding in and out of me. My pierced nipples sliding across the rough carpeting, my shoulders aching. I can't answer him fast enough and he punches me in my cunt. His fist smashing into my sex, hard. Everything is blinding bright, pain flashes through me like lightening and I can't breath. He yanks the rope, pulling me up by the noose around my neck and my scream is cut off even as it starts.

I can't feel anything but the sharp pain between my legs that doesn't end. Even the blood suddenly pounding in my head, unable to escape is nothing compared to it. My chest heaves, my lungs feel heavy, bloated. I'm shaking and I feel his body behind me, holding me on my knees, choking me, killing me. Everything is going dark, even the pain.

And suddenly I can breath, the dull gray light is coming back and I heave, like trying to vomit the stale air from my body. I'm coughing and it hurts. My sex, my chest, my head, everywhere all at once. I'm laying on the carpet again, saliva pooled beneath my lips and I realize I passed out. Unconscious with no idea for how long.

Let's try it again, he says. Tell me you deserve this. That you want it. My voice is a croak, a whisper. I want it. Paul yanks the rope, And? My lips move, but nothing comes out except a hacking cough. He punches me again, driving his fist into my exposed vagina, smashing it against my pubic bone and this time he doesn't need to pull the rope. I don't remember anything except the explosion of pain.

And waking up again, my body a mass of pain. Everywhere, all at once. I scream and it feels good to scream. Paul pulls the rope and tells me to be quiet. The silky soft rope cuts off my air quickly and I am pulled a foot or more off the floor, my mouth open and nothing coming out. Inside my head it is loud, primal. Screaming endlessly against the pain. He drops the rope enough so my face hits the carpet, my nose filling with blood suddenly. I can feel it running down my open lips, into my mouth as I breath in. And in the back of my throat, leaking behind my tongue.

Paul's cock is hard and he pushes it into my flaming sex. A sharp pain to give the brilliant throbbing a point of focus. He rams deep inside me and I feel as if it's a knife, cutting through me. He can't believe how wet I am and he fucks me hard, getting his body up on mine. His hands are on my shoulders, another sharp pain and cracking sound as they move to places they've never been. Paul is driving me, and underneath it I feel good.

The pain is wonderful, like a white line I've just crossed. I'm rewarded with my aching cunt stretching around Paul, trying to hold him inside. The knife in my womb makes me moan. I swallow blood and taste it, an earthy taste like nothing else in the world. I'm trying to push back against him, but I can't move. I can only lay there while he fucks me.

I feel an orgasm, a confusing mix of pleasure and pain. Indistinguishable. My body is collapsed, laying flat on the floor while Paul straddles my thighs, working himself in and out of my bruised and bleeding body. He feels me cumming, spitting out blood as I groan and cry out with a high pitched wail. The very act of giving my body release fills me with even more pain and heightens it for me. I close my eyes and suck air through my teeth, pulling at my arms, my hands straining to get free.

Paul holds himself inside me. But he isn't cumming, he lets my battered vagina grip him, contracting around him and releasing, spasms of torturous pleasure. When it is passed and I am laying there unmoving he pulls out. He moves on his knees to my face, lifting my chin. My eyes are wet with tears and blood covers my mouth and chin and cheeks. His cock bobs up and down, it too is red, stained with blood. I can't feel anything between my legs anymore. Everything from my neck down is like a giant throbbing ache.

I look up at him and he moves so that he is sitting underneath my, his legs spread. He guides my mouth down to his penis and I open up for him. My nose has stopped bleeding, but still I swallow some little bit as Paul moves my head up and down his hard shaft. I can taste myself on him and it excites me, I can feel the fires still burning. Unquenched by my orgasm. I flop on my belly, like a fish out of water trying to suck him. He leans back on both hands and watches me. My nipples are being rubbed raw on the rough carpet, as is the rest of me. I start to work myself back to my knees, but Paul stops me.

Like that, he says. Keep sucking. I move my mouth up and down, trying to breath. My neck still feels the rope, almost forgotten. I can feel too the way it burned when he pulled it tight. I wonder if he'll do it again, my pussy tingles despite the pain. A sudden flutter to tell me I'm still alive. I take his penis into my throat, swallowing and then catching him as my throat opens. My mouth slides down the length of him and I pause, working up the energy to push my mouth back off. He's trapped in my throat, momentarily gagging me, choking me, but I can't do anything about it. Paul is watching me. Lighting a cigarette while I struggle to mouth his cock.

I arch my back still further, pushing with my hips and my mouth moves back up his shaft. I start jerking, making fast short movements with my mouth. It hurts my shoulders, and my breasts are on fire beneath me, being smashed by my body with every jerk. I'm breathless, feeling desperate, my body is tired and I don't know how long I can do this. Paul grabs a fistful of hair and pulls me off him. He touches the end of his cigarette to the side of my left breast and I bite my tongue as it burns, he holds it there, watching my eyes water.

This pain isn't so bad as the other. I've done this and it is a little light behind my eyelids. I don't make a sound, holding my breath for the 4 or 5 seconds he holds it against my tender skin. He puts the cigarette back between his lips. He wants me to suck his balls now, he lies down so that I am between his thighs, my chin on the floor and my mouth at the base of his cock. He watches as I open my mouth and tongue and suck and work his soft silky pouch between my lips. I suck it gently, tonguing it as he starts to masturbate.

He watches me, smoking with his left hand while he slowly jerks his long shaft with his right. I keep sucking his balls, feeling them jerked with each stroke of his hand. I bath them, worship them. His fist is moving in front of my eyes and he's getting close. he stubs out his cigarette and leans on his left hand, stroking himself faster. He's going to cum and I suck his balls harder, holding them in my mouth as his cock suddenly erupts. he tilts it towards me and his spurting semen shoots into my hair, across my forehead, into my eyes. It runs down his stroking fist and down to his balls, into my mouth. I suck and lick trying to get it into my mouth.

With that done Paul stands up. he takes a picture of me for his scrapbook. Tied up, blood crusted on my face and his sperm in my hair and dripping from my face. He takes the end of the rope tied around my neck, pulling the noose tight, but not so tight I can't breath. I can still get little breaths of air and the blood still moves to my brain and back. He ties the rope to my ankles, bending my legs at the knees so that my heels touch my butt. If I move my legs away from my thighs it will pull the noose tight. he demonstrates by pulling my feet down and suddenly the noose is fantastically tight around my neck.

Paul pushes my legs back and loosens the noose with his fingers. He tells me he's going to make us dinner. Don't move, he says. Paul disappears into the bedroom first, I hear the shower start. I'm concentrating on keeping my legs up, pressing my heels to my ass. I know if I lose any of the slack I have, I'll never be able to get it back by myself. It is a long time and I feel my body sweating from the effort. My pussy is wet from the fear, the anticipation. My legs are cramping already, I can't believe how much knees can hurt when they are kept like that for more than a few minutes.

My arms are already numb. I haven't been able to feel them for sometime, not since before Paul masturbated on my face. I don't want to try and move them though, the fear of moving my feet by mistake fills me. Paul comes out of the shower and checks on me. Are you okay? he asks me. Yes, I barely speak, but I tell him yes. I'm okay. He touches my sex, still wet, he laughs a little. Well, dinner will take about half an hour, so just relax. But not too much. He smiles again and walks out.

Thirty minutes? It sounds like infinity to me. I think maybe I can lift my head a little and that way lower my feet some. But then what? It won't help, will it? I'm feeling panic start, there's no way I can do this. I'm going to kill myself. I won't be able to help it and Paul won't know until it's too late. I could feel a shiver running up and down my spine, suddenly cold.

I'm gritting my teeth, straining to keep my legs from falling. The muscles have burned beyond pain. They are dead, I only know that they haven't yet fallen to the floor because I am still breathing. I'd thought I could grab the rope in my hands, but I couldn't. It's hopeless. My body shakes with the effort and I can focus on nothing else. Even the pain in my sex is a memory, not even mine. Something told to me once. Another Rachael, another time. I feel my legs slipping, moving, the noose tightening a little at a time. How long has it been? Where is Paul? he can't leave me like this, dying like this.

There is a certain relief, an ecstasy which floods me as my legs fall away, freely. I wonder for a second why I was so concerned about it. And then the rope is tight around my neck, yanked into my soft skin and pulling my head back with a jerk. I would gasp if it were possible, but my wind pipe suddenly feels a crush, as if an invisible hand were squeezing it, relentlessly. My eyes go wide, the blood in my head pounding and again my lungs labor without effect. I'm jerking on the floor, trying to find air. Pulling at my bonds. The heat inside my body flares and a wave of excitement seizes me. I'm going to die, I realize and the thought doesn't frighten me now as much as it did a moment before.

My tongue is thickening, distending out of my mouth. I can't control my muscles anymore, I am trying to save myself and the room is going black, tunnel vision and then dancing lights. I feel something; it's Paul, beside me, his fingers massaging my pussy. Rubbing my clit, yesss...Underneath it all I can feel the excitement. I can't see anything, I can't bend my mind around the simple need to breath, but I can feel the warmth spreading through me. I'm going to cum, it's coming, my orgasm, my final moment. I struggle to stay awake long enough to feel it complete. My lungs are burning and my ears hear only the roar of trapped blood. I'm falling into the arms of death.