Toying with the Truth

(Some elements in this story are purely fantasy. - Hannah)


It began with a short and simple message from You.

'hello hannah!
i like your stories very much and i enjoy reading about your fantasies.
i would love to read more.
_______ '

It was nice to know that my sexuality wasn't so twisted that people would be disgusted by me for having such thoughts. So I answered You. I was polite, but tempted by the idea of sharing my fantasy with You. I wanted to see where it would take me and how deep into lust and pleasure Your words could push me. So I started to ask questions. I wanted to know just how much of my fantasies resonated with You. What You had hoped for, what You wanted me to live through, what I deserved.

When You didn't answer at first I felt terribly embarrassed. Had I pushed You away? Had You decided that my desires were sick and revolting, and that having these images in my head as I orgasm made me despicable? I obsessed over every little thing I had written, trying to find out what I could have done to avoid this. Four nerve-wrecking days passed before You answered me. I had to will myself to open Your message only to find a long reply as well as several pictures. I sat down to read it all. It was gross, vulgar and demeaning but I could't take my eyes off it. Before I knew it I was pleasuring myself, mouthing every single word You had written and reciting every line You had me say. I wanted to say these words to You, as You tormented me. As You made me suffer for You. The picture that hit me the hardest, showed a young woman with torn clothes and her hands and feet tied up lieing in the back of a van. Her mouth was taped shut, and her pleading eyes red from crying. illustrating the fate You had dreamed up for me in Your reply. A fate just like Your pictures of women serving and enduring men's hardness, while tied, forced or covered in cum. With shaking hands I began to write back. We went back and forth like this for a while.

I didn't realise back then, just how much I revealed about myself in my replies to You. Or maybe deep down I wanted You to find me. I will never know. It was a Tuesday when I noticed the white van parking in front of the school. In fact, it was one of my students that pointed out to me, that the van only showed up when I was there. Your replies had lessened recently, which You had explained with more work at Your job. Still, I wondered if maybe You were lieing in wait behind the rolled-up windows. That maybe we would soon be able to see what the other looked like. An impish thought settled in my head. I'd dress up and act like I did in one of Your stories. If it really was You in the van I could show You how much I enjoyed them, and if it wasn't I could be the woman in Your stories for a night.

So when our school had their yearly theatre performance, I went out and bought the short, tight skirt and bright red high heels, You had imagined for me. I still had a choker and a light blouse at home and I made sure I had my hair done just like You had described it. I liked the feel of the tight fabric on my skin. The friction it caused when I moved was incredibly sensual and exhilarating. I got out of the car and stopped at the door. With a little waggling of my ass, I lovingly pulled down my red lace panties. Just like in Your description I bent over slowly, picked them up and stuffed them into my D&G purse. I closed my eyes and imagined all the events surrounding this scene in Your stories and shivered with excitement.

When I moved to open the door, a hand me grabbed my wrist from behind and twisted it behind my back. Another one pushed down on my mouth. Then a man in a woolen mask appeared in front of me, and ran his hand down my blouse before tearing it open and revealing my breasts. with a strong southern accent he threatend to kill me, if I didn't do exactly as he said. They dragged me into the van where two other hooded men were sitting, waiting. I was gagged and cuffed and then the van drove off. The back of the van was cold and uncomfortable, nothing like the one in my fantasies. One of the masked men held up my hands and started groping my breasts, soon another joined him running his fingers between my legs. Touching, probing, invading. They didn't even look at me. This wasn't turning out like Your stories at all, I started to realise. When I tried to struggle and turn away, I was slapped hard across my face. I screamed into my gag. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to tears. I looked at one of my captors, shaking my head pleadingly. He hit me again. And again. And again. Until I collapsed into a sobbing heap, as they kept touching and groping me. After a while the van stopped, and I was dragged out again. They had driven me to some local woods, far away from any nosy neighbours and random passersby where they brought me to an abandoned trailer. This is it, I thought. I was going to be raped in the middle of nowhere, and they would do god-knows-what to me, all because I wanted to feel like one of Your sluts for a night. I had brought this on myself, but I didn't want it anymore. I felt scared, vulnerable and helpless. When they threw me onto the bed inside, and started taking off their clothes, I started to cry uncontrollably. One of the men pulled out my gag. "Cry all you want, bitch. Scream even. And trust me you will soon enough. There's nobody here to help you. Nobody who cares if you scream, at least." They started laughing their dirty little laughs. One of the men was already beginning to pump his little fat prick. When I fantasised about You, You always were a tanned, muscled adonis with an imposing stature and a perfectly shaped penis. These men were nothing like it. One of them was overweight and barely able to see his own little cock. Another was pale and wiry, with a strangely downward-bent cock and far too much foreskin. The third was an older man, his bony hand massaging his white-haired balls. The last one was a hairy slob of a man, and the only one who hadn't begun to stroke himself hard. Instead he was holding a camera, documenting what was about to happen. The idea of any of those men entering me, using me or even ejaculating on me filled me with dread and disgust. As the fat man came up to me, I pulled back instinctively. Angrily he grabbed me by the hair, pushed my face into his crotch so his erect cock was touching me. 'Lick! You cunt' he yelled at me. I hesitatingly pushed out my tongue, running over his slimy balls, tasting the remains of cum that he had left there after masturbating some time before. I couldn't help retching, but he just laughed and pushed my face down some more. So that my tongue was now at the sweaty part between his scrotum and his asshole. I heard him moan as I ran my tongue over it. I prayed that it would all be over soon, but realised right away that this was just the beginning. That they didn't kidnap me, just for my tongue.

The old guy grabbed my hips, turning me on all fours and rolled up my skirt giving him full view of my ass. I heard him spit and than I felt two wet fingers moving into my slit, spreading his saliva inside me. I turned my head back, begging him not to do it. "This is what you're for" he answered and before I realised that he was quoting from a story I had sent You, I felt his cock split me open and entering me. I cried out overwhelmed by the sudden and painful feeling of fullness as he started pumping into me. The fat guy held up my hair and started pushing his cock into my mouth. He thrust it back and forth, moaning as he fucked my face. Each time the old man pulled out and invaded me again, I cried out. surprised at his hardness and the painful force with which he thrust into me. The cock in my mouth kept pushing its way in and out, pulling at my hair to ensure my compliance. Suddenly the wiry guy appeared next to me, his cock pointing at me and with a loud moan blasted his jizz all over the side of my face. Before I knew what was happening I tasted the first drops of cum on my tongue, only to have the cock pulled out of my mouth and exploded into my face, covering me with white goo. Before long the old man stiffened and yelled obsceneties at me as he thrust deep into me one more time. The spectacle of me taking two loads of cum into my face had been too much for him, and he had unloaded himself inside me. When he pulled out and I collapsed on the bed, I felt a warm trickle run out of me. It was then that I realised that this was You. That one of the men who had kidnapped me was the very same man who I had exchanged sexual fantasies with. That You were one of them. Or maybe all of them. That it was You who had forced his way into my cunt and filled me with cum. That it was You who had ejaculated on my face, causing the others to cum as well. That it was You who had fucked my mouth relentlessly. And that it was You who moved the camera right up to my cum-drenched face and made me read out my full name and address from my passport and into the camera. So that everyone who saw that video could find me. You were doing all those things to me, and I didn't even know what You looked like.

You grabbed me by my hair and pulled my face closer to You. I felt Your cum dripping off my cheeks and onto my chest. "You fucking cunt" You hissed and spit into my face. "Say it!" You slapped my breasts hard and I screamed out. I heard You laughing. You hit me again. And again. "Say you want it like this, whore" You yelled at me. I had always imagined submission to be this erotic and fulfilling experience of giving myself over to You; of reverting to a primal state where I was nothing but a servant to Your sexual appetite. But there, like this.. with the smell of stale cigarette smoke and the painful searing spreading through my breasts as You kept hitting me... I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to go home. I wanted to feel safe again. And when I finally gave in and said what You wanted me to say, I didn't feel as if I was embracing my new purpose. I just felt broken. Cheap. Used. All I got in return was hearing You laugh at me and a hard slap between my legs, making me curl up and howl in pain. Then You pulled me down to the floor, sticky and filthy and smelling of spilled beer and made me kneel before You on all fours like the bitch that I was to You. I had to take Your cock into my mouth again, You pushing it deeper and deeper, making me gag. Your thick veiny member prodding against the back of my throat until You managed to push it all the way down. I was struggling to breathe, my eyes were watering as You fucked my throat relentlessly. I almost didn't notice Your hands pulling apart my ass cheeks. As You exposed my puckered hole to the cold touch of some wet and slimy goo that You spread around my asshole, I gave out a muffled and You began pushing Your finger inside. You kept probing and pushing, drawing slow circles with Your goo-covered finger in my opening and squirting more and more of it inside. As You kept rubbing, circling and probing it dawned on my that You weren't trying to get Your kicks by simply fingering my asshole. You were getting me ready. You were setting me up to take Your cock up my ass. And the more I cried, begged or pleaded, the more You'd like it.

The cock suddenly spurting in my mouth, brought me back to reality as the cum splashed against the back of my throat. You pulled out quickly with the last squirts hitting my lips and I was left there with my mouth half-open and cum oozing from the corner of my mouth. Your fingers steadily spreading the lube stretched my hole in preperation of Your thick meat. The taste and texture of Your cum made me wretch, but I didn't dare spit it out. I let it drip out of my mouth and quietly began to pray. I begged god to save me. To not let me suffer like this. To not let You do this to me. I promised to be good. I promised anything at all, if only I would be spared. And the reply came swiftly and without pity. My head was thrust down into a pillow and then I felt You urging Your way into me. I felt every inch of You relentlessly pushing into me, as I accompanied You with my desperate howls of refusal silenced by the soft down of the pillow. It was really happening and I loathed every moment of it. You buried Your cock inside me with a deep sigh and rested Your upper body on me. I felt the coarse hairs on Your chest scraping me, and Your clammy stomach covered in sweat sticking to my back. "Better get used to this, little bitch. We all want a go at your sweet little ass." You whispered into my ear and started to grind Your hips, reminding me of my place. It was a sickening sensation to feel Your cock inside my asshole. Pulling back a little only to push Your way into me again. A little harder each time, so You could listen to me whimper beneath You. I had become so used to crying, I didn't notice my tears running down my face until I felt the wet fabric on the pillow You kept pushing my face into with each thrust. I tried to imagine myself far away from this place. Somewhere peaceful. In a place where I felt happy, where I felt safe. This wasn't really happening to me. This was happening to somebody else. It wasn't me getting anally raped in an abandoned trailer in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't me suffering the shame and humiliation on her knees. I wasn't the "cheap cumrag that wants it hard and nasty". Or the "dumb slut that had to be shown who's boss". When they talked about "making that whore scream some more", they weren't talking about me. They were talking about somebody else. It wasn't me. It was somebody else. Somebody else.

Distantly I felt You stiffen and push Yourself deep into me one last time. I tried so hard to will myself away from there. Hazily I picked up the jeering encouragement around me, before I was thrown on my back again. My pathetic escape into my imagination was failing fast. When You climbed on top of me and Your cock, that only moments ago was being thrust deep into my asshole, was now inches away from my face, I knew that I was back in the filth and the horror of this unbearable moment. The indistinguishable crowd of voices around me was coming into focus, yelling "Ass-to-Mouth" at me over and over again. Your hands grabbed my head, pushed open my mouth and then You made me taste Your filth mixed with my own. As You cleaned Your cock by continually pushing it in and out of my mouth, I could already feel more lube being applied between my asscheeks. I would go on to serve You two more times with "Ass-to-Mouth" before You gave me a few minutes to crawl up in the corner and sob.

It didn't last long. Before I even managed to quiet down a little You pulled me back to the bed by my hair. I was made to straddle You on the bed, skewered by Your hard and eager prick and with a hard slap to my face told to like it. Then my hands were pulled behind my back and put into handcuffs. The metal was hard, cold and heavy against my naked wrists. You started squeezing and pinching my breasts, as You grinded Your cock into me. I couldn't stand to look at You and turned my face away. This nightmare had to end eventually. If only I could hold on a little longer. And although I wished I could have denied You the satisfaction, I flinched and cried out a little in response to each of Your thrusts, slaps and pinches. Suddenly You pulled my face down to Yours blowing Your beer-drenched breath into my face, and scratching at my cheek with Your stubble of a beard. I pleaded one last time with You to show some pity and just let me go. Before I could even finish my whispered words, I felt a second cock getting ready to enter me. My panicked "No" barely made it past my lips as I was penetrated by another angry thrust and experienced the hardness of two cocks inside me. I couldn't even scream. I could only offer up a grimace of overwhelmed horror as You pulled Your camera right up to my face and gleefully said "How does it feel, whore?". Before I even managed to get my voice back You announced to the others, that it was time to "wrap it up", because the tape was almost full. This nightmare was about to come to a close, finally.

Behind me I heard something rustling, but could only see the three other men motionless with anticipation staring back at me. I tried to turn my head around, but suddenly found myself with a white plastic bag over my head. The stinging smell of the thin plastic foil filled my lungs. The men surrounding me had become indistinguishable dark shapes and I could hear nothing but the rustling of the bag. You pulled the bag tight over my throat. Silence. I tried to scream but all it did was make the inside of bag warm, wet and sticky. As I attempted to breathe in the thin film clinged to the outline of my mouth and kept out what air I had. Silence. I began to panic and struggle, quickly wasting the little oxygen I had left inside the bag. Silence. And still You kept the bag shut tight.

Then suddenly the smothering silence was obliterated by the ecstatic grunts and shuddering moans of two orgasms exploding inside me.

[Flesh4Fantasy]

Well written. You really did a great job exploring the theme. I like the way you started with the quote - great way to pull in this target audience (RB members).

Gotta +Rep ya and Give 5 Stars.

Thanx