Raped by Beloved Boyfriend Part I(My first story ever)

[Bound and Gagging]

This is my first story ever. I'd love some feedback so that I can tell if I'm any good with this or not! *laughs* So, please be as gentle or rough as you like.
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We’d been together for about a year that summer. And though I never had complaints about our sex life, I knew that he always wanted something a little more hardcore. I had offered myself to him in everyway but he still did not seem content with what he got. By no means were we a boring couple, we had our share of toys and did some occasional role-playing. I made sure that he knew I was open to anything he wanted to try but it always seemed that there was a wall up between us when it came to conversations like that.

I think what may have caused the change in him was the day that I was checking my email on his computer and he thought I had somehow seen some porn that he was watching earlier that day. He became a completely different person when he thought that I had seen his secret stash. He started yelling at me before I got a chance to explain and then, before I knew it a string of obscenities flew from his mouth as though I had committed a verifiable sin. Before I could try to plea my case, or even try to calm him down he grabbed me by my hair and jerked me backward so hard that the rolling computer chair toppled over and I fell to the floor. The sharp painful sensation of my hair nearly being pulled from my head and then my head bouncing off of the floor due to the impact from the fall stunned me. I became speechless and it took all I had to just look up at him as though I were an abused animal waiting to be hit again. At this point I was completely subhuman. He left me where I was, on the floor looking after him with my face contorted with pain and amazement that he would ever treat me in such a way. He looked down at me with almost vacant eyes and a nearly happy expression on his face and said “that’s what you get you filthy cunt.” He turned, walked out of the room, and lit a cigarette.


Though his actions that day stunned me I didn’t ever bring it up again. After he left the room to have a smoke I sat up, put the chair back in it’s normal position and pulled myself up onto his bed. Before I had time to even process what had just happened he returned to the room and looked at me in a rather curious way and asked me what was wrong. He was back to the same person he had always been, so I never questioned him about his outburst or about what it was he thought I’d seen. Things didn’t exactly go back to normal but they did continue to go on. I did love him—and still do—so, I just assumed it was an isolated incident and took on the “but I love him defense.”


A few weeks later we were in his car on the way back home from going out to his birthday dinner with a few of our close friends. The night was very pleasant and a normal evening for us. I’d had a few drinks and we’d shared the better part of a joint on the way home so we were in very good spirits for the ride back. I always loved to reach over and rub on his cock while he was driving. He however, hated it. He always has been a stickler for paying attention to the road and being careful while driving, usually because there is almost always something illegal, or incriminating in his car. As usual, he swatted my hand away and told me to stop. I wouldn’t listen and I just kept reaching over and massaging his crotch with somewhat uncoordinated hands thanks to the drinks I’d had earlier. He grabbed my hand and began to squeeze it so hard that winced and let out a surprised gasp. The he yelled, “didn’t I fucking tell you to stop bitch?! Don’t you know what stop means you ignorant fucking bitch?!” With one final powerful squeeze on my hand, my pinky finger completely popped out of place. I screamed and tears began rolling down my face. Once he let my hand go, I moved it slowly to my chest and cradled it with my other hand as though nursing it in such a way would help. All the while his foot did not press any harder on the gas pedal and we continued on at a pace that matched speed limit sign we passed as we turned onto the road.


With my seatbelt still on, I moved as far away from him as I could by pressing my back into the corner created by the door and the back of the seat. I didn’t know what to do, I had never been in a situation like that before and I immediately remembered the day that he had thrown me down with the chair over a small misunderstanding. I was scared of what he might do because though he had nearly broken my hand he didn’t seem affected at al. Even as I stared at him from my corner he seemed to take no notice of me or what he had done. I could see his profile in the dark thanks to the glowing blue light that emanated from the face of his CD player that displayed only the time and pumped no music to the speakers in the back of his car. All was silent and he stared straight ahead at the road, his face completely expressionless. I didn’t even dare make a sound, or even move for a while.
After a while I began to take notice of my surroundings. I realized that the drive was taking way too long and that we had left the restaurant over two hours ago. As I began to whimper and look at him pleadingly he finally looked over at me and said “You said you were willing to give yourself to me in whatever way I pleased? Well, tonight you’re going to but it’s not yours to give. It’s mine to take, slut.” With that he pulled onto a dirt road and as the car began to bounce a little from the unlevel ground beneath it, he stretched his hand out to me and I cowered further back into my corner whining like a sick child. He put his hand on the side of my face and began to stroke my cheek while I cried uncontrollably and looked on in fear. Though his actions were soft and caring his face was cold and unmoving. In one quick movement he stopped stroking my cheek and brought the back of his large had across my face. I immediately tasted blood and brought my uninjured hand to my mouth to shield it. I began to cry harder and he only looked over at me and said “Oh, shut up cunt! You’ll have something to cry about soon enough.” With that exclamation he stopped the car in the middle of the road and as I looked around I realized all I could see was the black outline of pine trees against a dark sky. He was immediately out of the car and walked around the back to the trunk and began moving things around. I never moved. Never unhooked the seatbelt. Never picked up my cell phone. I knew I should be trying to find a way to escape or call for help but I felt helpless and could only remain seated awating whatever it was he was looking for in his trunk.
He came back around to the front of his car and turned off the engine and shut his door without even one glance in my direction. He walked around the front of the car and came over to the passenger side door and glared at me through the window as he reached down to pull on the door handle. When he reached across me to unlatch the seatbelt I tried to protest but my voice came out weak and raspy and I could only get out the word “please” over and over again through my sobs. He only laughed at me and grabbed me by my hair and began to pull me in the direction of the dense woods that were to the left side of the road. My hair was wrapped twice around his hand and he led me through the woods for what seemed like hours. He kept the hand that held my hair by his side so that I was walking behind him and bent over in a painful position as to keep him from ripping my hair out. Though I mostly concentrated on the ground we walked across, as it was all I could see, and the throbbing pain in my left hand but I did happen to notice that he had what appeared to be a backpack slung over his opposite shoulder. He was completely quiet all the through the woods and seemed to not even take notice of how I shuddered when I noticed the bag slung over his shoulder.
Finally we came upon a clearing and still no sounds came from him and he pulled me along a little farther and a picnic table came into view. He released my hair, but as I began to straighten my back out he grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me to the ground in front of him. I never noticed how truly menacing his 6’5” and 275lb frame was before that moment as I was on my knees looking up at him. I noticed the large bulge of his cock against the front of his pants almost immediately and I knew what was happening. He just looked down at me, enjoying every minute of my agony as I realized what was about to happen to me. “What are you waiting for bitch? I know you know how to suck a dick!” He unbuttoned his pants and had me pull down the zipper with my teeth and then I removed his ever-hardening cock from his boxers and brought it into my mouth. I winced with pain as his dick moved against the cut on the inside of my mouth I’d received earlier and he brought his hand against the side of my head and yelled “suck harder, cunt!” I tried my hardest not to let my teeth injure him in anyway for fear of what retributions I might get in return and I continued moving my lips up and down his large dick while shedding silent tears. He never stopped looking down at me the whole time and the only change on his face was smirk that I only saw for the moment I dared look up at him. I didn’t question his strength because I knew he could overpower me and I didn’t dare think of running because I thought that running would only make him prolong what he wanted to do with me when he finally caught up to me. After a few minutes he jerked me up by my hair and said “okay, that’s enough.” He looked down at his cock and said, “Now look at that, you got blood all over my dick with your filthy little mouth.” I was embarrassed and meekly replied that I was so sorry. He responded “Don’t worry bitch, because there’s gonna be plenty more of your blood on my dick before I’m through with you.”