My Collection

[Your Nurse]

A little about the writer.

I've lurked on this site for I don't even know how many years. I eat, sleep, breathe my job as a nurse. I'm 26, 5'1", 105lbs, my measurements are 30-24-36 for whatever that's worth. I live on my own, no kids, no roommates, definitely no boyfriend. Shit, I'm so far away from a relationship it's laughable.

Let me bottom line this for you, I'm a gal who was raised in the bible belt of the U.S of A. I'm a Southern Baptist, though I ain't claiming I'm a good one. I was brought up in a conservative Christian home. The kind where you say "Yes ma'am," "No sir," pray every day, no sex before marriage, and you sure as Hell don't smoke or drink. Course I've been sucking on cowboy killers & making friends with Patrón for nearly half my life, I think you could call it my first act of rebellion. The second act was tossing my virginity at an upperclassman when I was 16. Sure, I wasn't married, but I was in a relationship with the guy which had to count for something. And in fact, that's one thing that's stuck with me, I don't have sex outside of relationships. Which means, I've been abstinent for a while my friends, I haven't so much as seen a dick in person since February of 2011. Three years, but fuck, who's counting?

I think this, me being here, it's just another part of rebellion. You see, I've had these dark fantasies since I found out what sex was. Keeping it real, I still had my cherry the first time I finger fucked myself to climax watching a fake rape video. I wondered for years what on Earth was so fucking wrong with me that I'd get off on the idea of rape? But it's simple. The no control, not having a choice, this southern Baptist can't be condemned by God or anyone else if it's rape... Right? I've fantasized so many different scenarios, now the vanilla shit just can't do it for me. Every time any of my exes were riding me missionary style like the good little boys they were, I'd be laying there with my eyes closed just pretending... Pretending he had his hand around my neck, my wrists trapped in his strong grip. It was the only way I could get even close to an orgasm during sex. I've condemned myself to lifelong unsatisfactory fucking, because I'll never tell anyone but you my dirty little secret. Not after an ex found this website in my browser history several years ago. I came here a lot to read some stories while riding my hand. I'll never forget his repulsion at the concept, nor my relief when he actually believed that it must have been a pop up from a different site. Liar liar, pants on fire, I know...

This is the first time that I'm sharing my fantasies, my first time taking the images out of my head and trying to describe them. I'm hoping that with time I'll get better at writing these... That they'll make you at least half as horny as they make me. My fantasies are varied. My rapists come in every race, size, personality type, age, and I'm either claimed by just one or taken by many. In time I hope to share a majority of my rape fantasies with you in this thread. But any ways let's get to the good stuff, yeah? And by the way, if you read any of that I'm thoroughly impressed. When I read stories here I always scroll down to the good parts. Fuck the long winded intros, I don't need the foreplay.

[Your Nurse]

Fantasy No. 1 - Mixing Work With Pleasure

One of my CNA's had stated that room 26 needed their lorazepam. It's locked in the med room which you need a 4 digit numerical passcode to get into, only charge nurses and doctors have access. I must go into that room at least a dozen times each shift to fetch various medications or supplies without incident. Without a thought in the world I punched in the code and didn't even wait for the door to close behind me before I started over to the med fridge. It happened so fast, your hand was over my mouth to cover my screams and you held it firmly in place despite my attempts to pry it away.

"Stop fucking moving you cunt. You feel this? That's a lethal dose of morphine." That's when I felt it, the slightest scraping of a needle at my neck. You rolled the barrel of the syringe over my neck for just a moment as if to emphasize how dangerous this predicament was for me. My hands remained on your forearm but I was no longer trying to pull your hand away from my mouth. Your threat had done exactly what you had intended it to do: Made me scared. Big time fucking scared. "That's right, you're going to be a good little girl now aren't you?"

With just the barest hint of motion I nodded my head.

"You even think about screaming bitch, and I'll drop you so fast. You keep looking forward and don't make a sound, I'll let you keep breathing when I'm done. You understand me?"

I nodded my head once more. You took a few steps forward, herding my body until I was pressed against the counter with you at my back. Your tongue started darting out, probing my ear and raising goosebumps along my flesh where your hot breath beats against me. You have your hands wrapped around me in a mockery of a bear hug from behind, trapping my arms to my sides as you assault both my breasts through my scrubs. Feeling both of your hands upon me doesn't make me take the threat of injection any less seriously. I can't hold back the pleading whimpers escaping my throat while your weight forces my pelvis further against the counter top. I can feel your bulging erection trapped inside your pants as you grind it against the small of my back.

Your right hand worms its way into my pants. In wasting no time you pull aside my thong and immediately your fingers start brushing against my vulva. You spread my pussy lips apart and tease my dry opening with just the tip of your middle finger.

"What's wrong baby, this doesn't make you excited?"

I mistook your sarcastic inquiry as a rhetorical question and learned my lesson when the hand that had remained on my breast painfully squeezed my left tit.

"I asked you a fucking question cunt."

My eyes were watering from the pain still stemming from my chest. "I'm sorry!"

You proceed to work your middle finger up inside of my dry passage. It doesn't take long for my body to begin responding with lubricant and as you feel the wetness increasing you work another finger in. "I bet you came in today hoping that you'd get fucked, didn't you?"

"Yes." It wasn't true, but my reply came out automatically in a desperate attempt to avoid more pain as before. I tried to ignore the wet sloshing sounds your fingers made as they worked over my cunt, increasing their speed. But God it seemed so loud. I think it just added to your own excitement because it felt like your erection was stabbing me in the back.

You removed your hands from me just to hook your thumbs in the waistband of my scrub pants and pull them down to the middle of my thighs. For just a moment you took in the sight of my ass in my black g-string before you tugged them down as well. I heard the sound of your pants unzipping and I tried to brace myself for what was coming. My body shook with the anticipation of a brutal thrust but all you did was slide your dick in between my thighs directly under my cunt. You could feel the heat of my pussy beating down on your sensitive prick and you placed both of your hands on my ass, squeezing each globe none to gently. You slid your cock slowly in and out of that small gap where the top of my thighs met my pussy; so closely to my pussy in fact that my juices were coating the top of your shaft.

"Oh yeah baby, tell me how bad you want it. Beg me for it."

"I - uh... I need you, please. Please, I need your cock inside of me." My face was beet red with humiliation. I had never "talked dirty" during in intimate act and being forced to do so during my own rape was incredibly degrading.

"That's the best you can do? Really?" That only increased my humiliation. I had no reply and you chose that moment to finally slide your dick into my awaiting cunt. Your cock had no problems sliding in to the hilt, you had made me so wet with your skilled fingers. "Fuck, bitch, you're so fucking tight." You held my hip tightly and the other hand you buried your fist into my hair forcing me to bend down further over the counter.

The sound of flesh smacking together seemed to fill the room as you rode me. With every stroke came that slapping sound and I could feel the heavy weight of your balls hitting my clit with every forward thrust. I tried to think of something, anything besides what you were doing to my body. I stared at the wall in front of me with fixated eyes and was thankful when I felt your pace quicken because I knew what that meant.

"Oh yeah bitch, here it comes. Fuck, I'm gonna cum." Your announcement had barely finished by the time I felt the first wave of your cum blast into my womb. You pumped your cock a few more times, completely emptying your balls into my cunt. When you pulled out you cleaned your cock by wiping our juices onto each of my ass cheeks before returning it to your pants.

I had been so relieved thinking it was over and now you would leave, so I can't explain how surprised I was when I felt your hand return to my used cunt. You unmercifully jammed three of your large fingers into my cunt twisting them around a bit before pulling them out. Still fixated on the wall in front of me, I saw your hand come into view with those three fingers covered in a mixture of your cum and my cunt juice.

"Open."

I hesitated for only a split second before recalling the looming threat of a parenteral Morphine overdose. You waste no time, stuffing your fingers into my mouth as soon as I opened it.

"Clean."

I swirled my tongue around your fingers, washing the cum from your hands and swallowing it down as I knew you expected. You wiggled your fingers around in my mouth encouraging me to lick and suck up every ounce of the mess you put in there.

"If you report this to any one, I will find you. And when I do, this hospital will be wondering why they didn't recognize that one of their Charge Nurse's was so fucking depressed and suicidal. You'll be gone, nothing but a reason to have an in-service about seeking psych help, you get me?"

You yank your fingers out of my mouth, wiping my saliva onto the back of my scrubs top. It was the click of the door closing that finally snapped me out of my stare-down with the wall. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to assure myself that you were gone. Sure enough, I was alone. With shaking hands I reach down and pull my thong and pants back up, trying to ignore how uncomfortable it feels against my raw, wet cunt. That's when I saw it on the counter... An empty fucking syringe.

[Your Nurse]

Fantasy No. 2 - Road Rage

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," I say it out loud to myself and even once I've stopped I keep it going in my head. The car I had cut off while turning into my alley way had proceeded to follow me, I hadn't even realized it until they had my blocked in my driveway. It was nearly midnight, I was just getting home from work. Some smart girls may have continued to sit in their locked car, maybe they would have called a friend. Not this girl. I'm not a fucking idiot it's just that when I saw you were getting out of your car and walking up to mine, your intentions didn't even cross my mind. Here's how I thought it would go down: I'd apologize, explain that I just pulled a 12 hour shift and was desperate to get home; you'd maybe berate my womanly driving skills but ultimately would accept my apology and leave. I got out of my car, my eyes straining in the dark to make out any details in the shadowy form walking towards me. For the ten billionth time since I bought this house I thought about how I needed a motion light out back.

"Hey man, I'm really sorry I cut you off back there. I just wrapped up a 12 hour at the hospital, and I just wanted to get home. I really thought I had enough ti-" It was about this time I realized that how I thought it was going to happen was wrong. So very very wrong. You kept walking past the distance of appropriate personal space. I only took a few steps backwards until I felt the cold metal of my car pressing against my back. And yet you were still coming. Without a word your arm shot out around me, I could feel your hand work its way up my spine until your fingers were biting into the flesh of the back of my neck. You had pulled me close, if any of my neighbors looked out their window by happenstance they would have thought we were embracing. You may not know it, but none of my neighbors will look out their windows - They all have children and it's a school night, all of them are in bed. My heart is racing inside of my chest, I'm more than positive you can feel it beating against yours.

Your words are little more than a whisper against my ear, "You're going to let me in the house. Don't make a sound, don't do anything to alert your neighbors, and I'll let you live." You didn't brandish a gun or a knife, you didn't have to. I barely weigh more than 100lbs and I'm not even going to front like I have any kind of fighting skills that would let me go toe to toe with a man and walk away.

I only nod my head in response, a motion I'm barely capable of due to your grip. It wasn't so much because of your, "don't make a sound," threat as it was that I'm not sure I could make a sound at this point if I wanted to. You released me, albeit not completely as you grabbed onto my arm to guide me through my backyard and to the side door. My one thought was that you were going to be pissed when you realized you were robbing the wrong house because aside from the quarter in my purse I had nothing worth taking.

With shaking hands I attempted to fit my house key to the lock but I wasn't capable of precision. Your hand settled onto my own and with your guidance the key was slid into the lock and the door opened. You filed into the house directly behind me, shutting the door and sealing us in. By habit I flipped the light switch in the entry way, you didn't try to stop me. You even let me turn to face you. If I had been thinking properly at that time I probably would have thought that since you let me see your face you were going to kill me for sure. I've seen enough horror movies. "Where's your room?"

My head cocked to the side as I tried to sort out the puzzle of what the fuck you would want in my room. "It's upstairs, but I don't have any jew-"

"Show me." I didn't verbally respond to your interruption, thinking that the sooner I showed you I had nothing of value you would be gone. You followed me through my kitchen and my dining room, and finally we were making our way upstairs. I could hear the stairs creaking under your weight and couldn't help but think that they had never creaked under mine.

The whole second story of my house is a master suite. There's a queen size bed to the left with a loveseat the foot of it to better view the widescreen television across the room. You turn your head to look around the room, taking it all in. For the first time since this started, you distance yourself from me and my eyes follow you as you sit down on the love seat. Your eyes bore into mine as you make another command, "Strip."

I didn't understand your request then, to tell you the truth, I still don't. Whoever created the sexy stereotypes of nurses were off the rocker. Scrubs fit like potato sacks, who knows what's on them, my hair is in a messy ponytail and quite frankly I'm not sure there's a type any deodorant in this world that can stand up to a 12 hour shift on a medsurg floor. Even dolled up, I'm not sexy, I don't have the tits to pull off sexy and with this baby face any attempt would be comical. So I continued to deliver what I'm sure was a blank stare. "Strip," you repeated firmly, your tone of voice going from bland to intimidating just like that.

My hands grasped the hem of my scrubs top and lifted it up and over my head. Red was the color of my bra on that particular day. It had a bit of lace on the underside of the cups with little rhinestones placed at random. I simply allowed my shirt to drop to the floor before kicking off my tennis shoes and tugging my pants down. My thong was red, despite nobody seeing my lingerie for years now I always wear cute and matching undergarments just in case that's the day I'm the patient in the ER. I look over at you for the first time since I decided to obey your orders. Your right hand was massaging the crotch of your pants. I don't think I realized where this was going until that moment. "Keep going," you commanded as you undid your zipper and reached into your pants. I could see the outline of your bulge as you continued to work yourself up. Reaching behind me I unclasp my bra with one hand and allow the straps to fall off my shoulders and glide down my arms until it completely falls away. Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my panties, I pull them down where they join the pile of discarded clothing at my feet. Stepping out of the pile to untrap my ankles from my pants and thong, I watch as your hand emerges from your pants with your thick cock held tightly in your fist. You stroke your hand up and down, just a few times until a bead of precum escapes your slit and glimmers underneath the light. "Come here."

Well, I could do that. I've obeyed you to this point, and it's not like I haven't been telling myself I need to get laid every day for at least the past two years. But not like this, right? Not with a stranger, who's been doing God only know what with God only knows who. In that second I decided to make a break for it, I turned on the ball of my feet and ran back towards the stairs but I didn't even make it that far. Shooting pain rocked through my skull as I felt your hand grab onto my ponytail and wrap my hair around your fist. You dragged me back to where you had been sitting on the loveseat and when you reclaimed your spot you brought me to my knees in front of you.

Inches in front of my face I stared directly at your cock. For an absurd moment I wondered at the fact that you didn't even both to tuck yourself away before you went to chase me. Your dick was probably a good 7 inches. I was mesmerized by the veins pulsing along your shaft and had this been any other situation I probably would have been lovingly tracing those veins with my tongue. Taking your cock into your hand you rubbed your mushroom tip against my cheek, coating my skin with your precum. You beat the head of your cock against my closed mouth a few times, finally yanking on my ponytail once more to encourage me to open my mouth. The second I did, your cock was sliding in and it was hammering against the back of my throat. You brought my face down into your crotch, your cock sliding over the top of my tongue and down my throat, cutting off my air. Your grip on my ponytail didn't allow me to so much as shake my head in distress, instead I began beating my palms against the side of your thighs as I became desperate for air. Finally you let me up, dragging my head up until only the tip of your dick remained in my mouth and then you pushed me back down until my nose was pressed against your pubes. You repeated this, I don't know how many times, it seemed like hours had gone by but looking back I'm sure it wasn't more than ten minutes. On that last time, I swear you lodged your cock so deep in my throat I'll always feel it and you held it there until I started seeing spots.

You pulled me up off the floor by my hair and I found myself straddling your lap, my chest pressed against yours. I was still just trying to reform a relationship with oxygen when I felt the tip of your dick nudging at the entrance to my pussy. With a hand on each side of my hips you speared yourself into me in one hard thrust. I had lubed your cock up with my spit so well and yet that first penetration felt like you were ripping me up inside. Your cock was literally the first thing inside of me in three years. I don't use dildos or vibrators, even my own fingers rarely find their way inside my count now days as I just use clit play to get off. You kept your hands on my hips and used your strength to fuck me up and down on your lap. You weren't holding onto my hands, I could have hit you, could have fought back. At first I didn't because I was still recovering from that throat fucking, then I didn't because what's the point. You're bigger than me, stronger than me, you're in control here, not me.

And let's not lie, the faster you pumped into me, the more your dick grazed against my G spot and the option of fighting you had gone out the window. At that point it was more like fighting myself. My hips started rocking, meeting you thrust for thrust and I couldn't help the moans that escaped from my ravaged throat as I neared my climax. Your hands migrated to my chest because you didn't have to hold me on top of your lap any more. I felt your fingers tweaking my nipples right before I felt your mouth close down on my right nipple. Your tongue swirled it around, flicked at it and I came right then and there. My pussy juice gushed out around your dick, coating the thighs of your jeans in the evidence of my pleasure. And then you bit down on that little nub of nerves and I let out a hoarse scream of pain. It must have been music to your ears because I could feel your cock pulsing and then jet after jet of your cum flooded my cunt, blasting against my cervix. I collapsed on top of you, coming down from my own orgasm until you shoved me off your lap and onto the empty section of the couch.

You stood up in front of the couch, tucking your shrinking cock away as you pulled your cell phone out of your pocket. I can hear the shutter sound of your camera phone taking pictures and I know what those pictures look like: A satisfied looking woman, sweat glistening on her body from exertion, and cum leaking out of her well used cunt. They're photos of a fucking cock whore, a cum slut. You pocket your phone and just as I think you're leaving without another word you stop at my clothes and unclip the nametag off my scrubs. Holding the nametag in your hand you give it a cursory glance over before looking back towards me with a smirk. "You tell anyone about this, and I'll make sure those pics make their way to the hospital administration, Ana. You get me?" You don't even wait for me to agree before you turn your back to me and leave, taking my nametag with you.

[Throatdagger]

Nice story. You can bet I will be waiting for you again; only the next time I will get some really good use out of your ponytail.