Bi-Sexual Predator

[darkstalker]

New lesbian rape story i've been working on. Clare is assaulted by a ghost of her past and remembers how it all began long ago. starts with lesbian rape to gang rape to some reverse rape. enjoy!

*****

The wall slams against her back roughly, Clare’s head banging hard against the plaster wall leaving an indentation. The other woman’s hand twist through her short hair, gripping it tightly and jerking it back, forcing her mouth open, the woman’s tongue pushing between Clare’s parted lips, invading her orifices.
Clare gags against the woman’s mouth, feeling it push back into her throat. She squints her eyes fighting back the instinct to bite down on it, knowing it will only result in more pain. This is Ophelia after all. An insane woman who even through their college days delighted in causing pain to others. Her scalp burns as she feels hairs pulling from her head.
She breathes in a harsh gasp, feeling the woman push her hand under her blouse, gripping it one handed and tearing it open, the buttons flying everywhere. Soon her hand is on Clare’s firm breasts, roughly fondling them beneath the bra.
“Been awhile,” she whispers, against Clare’s lips. “Hasn’t it?”
“Fuck you,” Clare rasp.
The woman digs nails into Clare’s skin making tears well in her eyes as they scrape across her body. “Now, now...” says Ophelia, licking her lobe and sucking on it lightly. “We’ll get to that shortly. But I like some foreplay first.”
“You’re... insane...” Clare says through watery eyes. She struggles, shaking her shoulders and the woman laughs.
“You look sexy trying to resist me like that,” she says. “It turns me on!”
Clare shudders, feeling the woman’s tongue lapping against her ear. Oh god, she thinks. Her heart is thundering and her chest heaving as the woman continues to fondle her. “Should we go lower?” says the woman, trailing her hand slowly down Clare’s stomach into her skirt.
She pushes weakly with her hands, tears running down her cheeks. “No... please...”
The door bangs against the wall with a slam, making both jump. With Ophelia pulling away Clare is able to see who is at the door, his eyes wide and hurt, hair a ruffled mess and thin frame barely filling the doorway. “Raki...” she whispers.
And she hears the woman beside her chuckle. Clare glances at her, the woman’s hair pulled back in a long braid, eyes wide and shining, tongue darting out and licking her upper lip. “Tasty...” she whispers. And these words make Clare snap for their meaning is all too clear. Ophelia intends to do the same to Raki she did to her. Clare won’t let that happen!
She slams Ophelia back against the floor, anger flaring inside her, twisting her blood and burning her eyes a golden hue. “Get out!” she screams. “And don’t come back!”
The woman on the floor chuckles, rising slowly, cocking her head to a side and smiling. “You’re sexy when you get mad.”
“Get out!” Clare screams.
“Alright,” says the woman as she sidles over to where Raki is standing. He is glaring at her and her hand passes gingerly over his crotch making him jump back, stumbling against the door. “Yesss...” she says, “I think you will be fun.”
And with that she disappears down the hallway. Clare stares for a time, feeling the woman’s aura fade and slides back against the wall, her heart still thundering in her chest. If Ophelia had forced the matter she doesn’t know what would have happened. She lets her head roll forward, hearing the thumping of Raki rushing to her. Raki...

He only saw the woman on top of Clare, the wall pressed against her back, but her blouse split open, the strange woman fondling Clare’s breasts. It had shocked him.... Clare with another woman. And how the woman had been using her... It can’t be. Can it?
She isn’t the old flame Clare had once? Could she be? But how Clare reacted didn’t bode well.
And how the woman reacted to him... it was like she was sizing up a prime piece of steak on a plate. It made him uncomfortable, even more so with how she grabbed him “there.” He pushes it to the back of his mind trying to coax Clare to talk about it.
He tries to ask her about it, to get a clear word of phrase out from her but all he gets are hiccuped sobs and Clare suddenly pulling him forward, her head pressed against his chest and stifled moans and sobs coming from parted lips. He quickly feels his chest becoming wet and moist with her tears.
With nothing else to do, he strokes her hair whispering soft words of comfort to her. Leaning his head against hers he only wishes that he himself could believe those words.

Clare lays in bed her eyes vacant and staring at nothing. He runs his hand over her shoulder, stroking her slowly. He hates this, how she’s shut down again. Like back then....
He grits his teeth, grinding them on one another and is surprised by a gentle touch on his hand. A warm hand stroking his own.
“I’m sorry...” she says. “Sorry I’m so weak.”
He feels something within him break and leans forward, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “You’re not weak Clare. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
He strokes her head a bit, looking on her vacant eyes and sighs. He wishes there was something he could do but until he knows more there will be little enough of that. “Goodnight Clare,” he says, moving to the other side of the bed and shutting the lights.

Clare remains where she is, staring, eyes vacant and looking past what is there to another time, another place. A place she’d rather forget.