Message-ID: <6595eli$9803032152@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: SR Subject: NEW STORY: Cash (MF non-consensual) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980303160535.18575.rocketmail@send1d.yahoomail.com> miners can't read without those lamp-hats on their heads. feel free to copy or archive. do whatever you want with it, just don't blame me. if you have any opinions you'd like to share, feel free to contact me (parasol_60@yahoo.com) but no flames, please, cuz i'm a delicate frail flower who might not be able to stand it. Wrote this one a few years ago because it was inside me and had to come out. Nobody seemed to like it at the time. Guess the rating would be "MF non-consensual" nowadays. It's a fantasy, kids... don't try this at home. (Does that REALLY need to be said?) ======= "Cash" I arrived home, only slightly looped, to find him sitting in a chair in my living room. A guy I knew, a bartender who'd felt me up a few times at work. Called "Cash." If he had a real name I don't know it, I don't think anyone ever called him anything else. Slim, tall. A dark beard trimmed almost cruel. Piercing eyes so dark they seemed almost black -- but clear, steely. Riveting eyes. I was in a slight state of shock at his presence, but noticed that he was holding my spare set of keys in his hand. A set I thought I'd lost out of my purse a few weeks back. I dropped my jacket and bag on the floor beside the closed door. "Come on in, make yourself at home!" he said, his voice a low velvet growl. "I thought you'd never get here." "What are you..." I began, but stopped almost immediately as he raised a hand, gloved in thin black leather. "It's playtime, sweet." He reached into the well of darkness by his boots and came up with a knife. The blade was long and curved, so thin it seemed almost transparent when seen head-on. "We're going to play. It's up to you how much fun we have. And..." he glanced at the knife with just a hint of a smile, "I can have fun lots of different ways." I felt a cold flush below my ribcage, I could feel the chill of sweat across my face and goosebumps down my neck, the start of a tremor in my knees. Yet beneath it all, like distant forbidden thoughts, came random memories of him. A look across the room when our eyes met from time to time. Catching him staring at me, in the mirror when he didn't know I saw. His thick fingers, up under my skirt, working at the elastic of my crotch, as I had to squeeze by him behind the bar. His breath like a caress beneath my hair. Despite myself I felt the first stirrings of excitement like a dull throbbing heat, a thick pulse that made me aware of my body beneath my clothes, aware of his eyes on me, aware that at this point I would do whatever he asked. "What did you have in mind, Cash?" I had to swallow once to get the words out, and to quell my shivering. But I stood there, aware of the door, closed and locked behind me. "Now aren't you a brave little soldier! Let's see if we can't do something about that." He stood and walked toward me, testing the blade of the knife with his thumb. As he reached me he laid the knife against my collarbone, the point snaking just below the thin gold chain that circled my neck. He raised the knife, the blade snapping the chain taut against the back of my neck, then slicing through the soft gold metal. It slipped to the floor. He held my eyes with his, I didn't dare look where the chain had fallen. He brought the tip of the knife to my lips, whispering "Kiss it." I pursed my lips, the silver steel touching the round fullness of my lower lip. As my mouth made its little sucking 'kiss' sound I felt the blade pierce my skin, and a tiny drop of blood well up. Cash brought his face to mine, his tongue lapping at the wound. The smell of his skin was wood-smoke and spices, musk and vanilla, and I realized again just how much he could hurt me. As he pulled his bearded face away a teardrop formed in the outside corner of my right eye, and he brought his gloved hand up to brush it away. "That's better," he breathed along my cheek. "Let's have some fun. You have anything to drink around here?" My eyes gestured to the bottles ranged on the bookcase. He thumbed open a bottle of scotch and upended it into his mouth. "You want some?" I mumbled "No," as he took another drink, dribbles of the liquor running along his beard. He brought his face to mine; I could taste the scotch as the hairs stroked my lips, as my lips opened to his tongue and he sent a warm mouthful of liquor and spit into my mouth. With a hand on the base of my throat he coaxed me to swallow, which I did while he continued to slowly stroke my tongue with his. He repeated the process, each time letting his tongue linger in my mouth, sharing the sharp dry taste of the scotch as it burned at my throat. He backed off, and asked me where I kept my panty hose. It seemed an odd question at first, but I led him into the bedroom and opened the dresser drawer. Grabbing a handful, he walked me to the bed. With a gesture he had me stand, facing the thick wooden bolster that ran along the foot of the bed. He kicked my legs apart, then fell to one knee, where he quickly tied my left ankle to the bed post with my panty hose. He moved to the other side, then looped another set of hose around my right ankle, then around the bed post and pulled it tight. My legs had to spread further apart as he tightened and tied the hose tight around my ankles. He checked the left again, making sure it was tight enough, then stood up behind me. He held his knife in his right hand, at my waist, and with a smooth gesture he ran the blade up under my white knit blouse, along my stomach, up across my ribcage, slicing the fabric apart as he raised his arm. After severing the neck band he used his gloved hands to rip the remaining fabric from my skin, pulling it roughly off my arms. His blade then sliced the straps of my bra, letting the lace fabric fall across my breasts, exposing the pink tops of my nipples. His gloved left hand reached around me, roughly teasing each nipple in turn and flinging the bra to the floor. His face brushed my shoulder-length red hair aside and burrowed into my neck. The short hairs of his beard felt like some animal's fur against my skin, and his wet mouth on the top of my spine felt like a raw wound, hot and pulsing. He clumsily removed my skirt, then I felt his right hand probing between my legs. I felt cooler air down there as his knife cut through my tights. Rather than remove them, he simply tore the crotch in half with his blade, then let the halves fall along the outside of my legs. He then ran the blade of his knife along the elastic bands of my panties, toying with me until, with a frighteningly rough gesture, he simply sliced my panties off with one motion. He then threw the knife across my shoulder, so that it stuck point-first in the wooden board at the head of my bed. He stood behind me, his body taut, while his hands worked their way up and down my figure. He probed along my thighs, white against the black of my shredded tights, up through the bushy pubic jungle. He let out a deep, soft laugh when his leathered hands learned exactly how wet I was down there. He pulled on the silky red fleece and stroked my swollen nub. He prised apart my lower cheeks and clenched each one in his large hands. He stroked across my abdomen, squeezing at my navel, then worked his way up across my ribs to the underside of my breasts. He squeezed them, raked at the soft flesh, held the nipples between his fingers and pinched them white. He pressed them flat against my ribs under his thin black gloves. He kneaded them, pressed them together, lifted them and let them flop from his grasp. They began to ache from the rough handling, but that core nerve in the center, deep behind my nipples, began to tingle uncontrollably, sending electric shocks of lust back down my abdomen. He made me raise my arms and pressed his thumbs into my armpits, roughly manipulating my shoulders, running his hands across my shoulder-blades then around to my collarbone, up my neck, along my face and between my lips. His fingers came to rest on my tongue, touching my teeth, feeling my gums. He slid his fingers deeper into my mouth between my teeth, almost like he was daring me to try to bite him. One of his hands reached and gathered together my hair, he lifted it high over my head, then began to force my head down toward the bed. His other hand pressed on my back, I leaned forward and sprawled, bent at the waist, my hips supported by the bar across the foot of the bed. His fingers began to probe the twin openings he'd just exposed, and he lowered his face for a closer look. His tongue lapped once, upward from the swollen nub of my clit, along my drenched lips, across the oozing orifice of my vagina, then upward across that sensitive stretch of skin to the tight, puckered opening of my asshole. He then stood up and went to the table beside the bed, where he rummaged in the top drawer. He found my tube of K-Y, and came back to stand behind me. I couldn't tell exactly what he was doing until I felt the cold metal of the tube inserted just a quarter inch into my asshole. There was a cold, almost nauseating sensation as he forced about half of the tube of that slippery gel up inside me. Then he positioned the tip of the tube at the entrance to my cunt, and squeezed the rest of the jelly inside that hole. By this time I was quivering so much down there that the jelly began dripping out of both holes, onto the floor or running down the inside of my thighs. He reached down and inserted a gloved finger into each hole, almost like he was testing, then he moved away from me for a few moments. I heard the sound of his belt and zipper, then his pants being kicked aside. He positioned himself behind me, his hot, hard penis throbbing in his hands. First he inserted himself into my cunt. He slid to the hilt, in the combination of my juices and the slick gel he'd squirted into me. Although he slid inside easily, I could tell he was unusually large, stretching me with the thickness of his bulbous head, and probing the deepest wells of my vagina with his long, thick shaft. He began to rock in and out of me, forcing a dull moan from me each time his cock stretched the depths of my cunt. The continued stroking began to warm the jelly, my cunt gradually relaxing with the pleasurable stroking of his gorgeous organ. By the time he'd been probing me for what seemed like hours, he was sliding in and out of me like my cunt had been custom designed for his prick. He'd pull out so that the rounded head came to rest outside my slick puckered cunny, then with his hands on my hips he'd pull me toward him, impaling me on that sweet cock. The bulbous head would stroke inward, past the initial resistance of my opening, then along the wet velvet walls of my cunt, stretching and smoothing the inner wrinkles as he probed deeper, coming to rest deep inside me until he couldn't push himself any deeper. He tried, though, probing to the top, to the bottom, to each side, shifting his hips to get better access, to push through my final resistance, to pound himself inside me and plow my twat over and over again, humping my hips and shaking my body so that my breasts swayed beneath me against the bed covers and my hands clenched on the sheets, tearing the bed apart with each of the orgasms he pounded into my sweet, slick, sloppy cunt. I screamed, I moaned, I cried out, "Fuck me, oh god fuck me! Do it!" He only grunted in reply, until finally he pulled that long thick hunk of cock-meat out of my cunt. "Fuck you? You want me to fuck you?" he asked. "Oh, yes. Do me, Cash. Fuck my fucking brains out," I begged him. "Always happy to oblige a lady," he whispered, as he placed his cock at the dripping entrance to my asshole. As soon as I realized what he planned to do I screamed out "Noooooo!" But it was too late. He'd already slammed his long, thick cock deep into my ass. The pressure of his entry forced the jelly deeper up inside me, and his cock stroked itself in and out, tighter and deeper than he'd been in my cunt. After he'd been humping for just a few seconds his hips were nestled against the cheeks of my ass, and he continued ramming his cock deeper and deeper into me. Tears sprang to my eyes with the pressure of his pounding, and I began to blubber and cry, moaning "No, no, no..." over and over into the bed covers. My cries only seemed to egg him on. His massive prick seemed to grow harder, and even longer, curling almost like a scimitar inside me as it continued to fuck my tight sore ass. I felt like if he fucked me any deeper his cock would start to come out my throat. He placed his knees inside my thighs and tried to force me legs even further apart, so he could fuck me easier. He stood behind me, swaying back and forth, screwing me as his balls swung wildly beneath him. He backed off a little so that we weren't touching except where his long cock penetrated my ass, and he continued to ride me, sliding that long, thick cockmeat deeper and deeper inside me as I cried uncontrollably beneath him. Finally, long after I couldn't take any more of his relentless probing, I felt him tense, and with a throb I could almost taste I felt him splatter my insides with wave after wave of his hot, thick scum, squeezed out of his shaft as he grunted his pleasure into the back of my neck. His cock pulled out of my asshole and I saw it was still rigid as he walked around the side of the bed and lay back across the covers. His hands in my hair, he lifted my head up off the bed and slid himself under me, so that his twitching, wet cock was right beneath my mouth. The remnants of his spunk and the plastic smell of the jelly mingled in his pubic hair with the stench of my violated butt-hole. He lifted my tear-streaked face by the hair on top, then brushed the tracks of the mascara from my cheeks. "Hey, where's my brave little soldier now, hmmm?" He held open my mouth with his fingers and lowered my face into his crotch. "Fuck you," I gagged at him as his cock nestled into my mouth. His hands twined into my soft red hair, holding me on both sides of my head. He settled back on the pillows to fuck my mouth, lazily pumping himself with my mouth while he waited for his cock to grow erect again. _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |