Internet Romance Redux - Rape Board

mishmish · 05-03-2013, 10:16 AM

Some of you may have read this story on another board. I was never happy with the direction I took it and have started to rewrite it with a different bent. The first two or three chapters will be similar to the original. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading.

Internet Romance Redux

Claire was a 23 year old young professional. She had recently graduated from the university and had started her career in marketing. Bright and vivacious, she had the world at her fingertips. She had been working for just a few months at a small company but had already stood out as a rising star. She had recently moved out of her parents house and into her own apartment across town in the hip part of the city. She enjoyed her new apartment, close to the bars and restaurants she frequented often, and enjoyed the freedom that living on her own provided her. She lived close to many of her friends and enjoyed being able to go out and do as she pleased. All in all, she appeared to be typical of any young woman her age, she worked hard, she liked to go out and socialize and she lived a fairly carefree life.

There was one thing that set Claire apart from her contemporaries. Since she was a young girl, Claire had sexual fantasies that she believed most others did not. She had fantasized about being kidnapped and raped for as long as she could remember. She imagined being tied up tightly in a hidden basement or dungeon, hidden away where no one could find her. She pictured a captor playing mind games with her, using her body as he pleased, and making her suffer endlessly. She abhorred these things in real life but in her fantasies, the thought of being bound and gagged while a captor had his way with her turned her on in a way conventional sex could not. She has long tried to figure out why this appealed to her, but could not pinpoint any event that first triggered it. It was a part of her that she had given up trying to figure out. The fact that this fantasy turned her on so, both embarrassed her and made her angry. How could something so reprehensible get her off so easily. Yet., any time she would masturbate, her thoughts inevitably turned towards the taboo and she would find herself climaxing to the thought of her rapist finishing himself off inside of her for the first time.

Claire was aware of BDSM and other similar fetishes, but always believed that anyone really involved in it was some kind of deviant. She never sought it out, in part, because of her fear of getting caught. She couldn't imagine what would happen in the event someone she knew found out about her fantasies. The idea of someone else knowing her most intimate secret frightened her. She didn't want to be ostracized or thought of as some freak. She lived an otherwise normal life and intended to keep it that way. Her fantasies stayed just that, buried in the recesses of her mind, for only her pleasure.

Over the years, Claire had several boyfriends. She was attractive and outgoing and caught the eye of many young men. She had hinted to a couple of them what her fantasies were but never could bring herself to tell anyone what she really wanted. She enjoyed sex and felt that she was in love a couple of times, but none of her relationships ever ventured into the territory which she truly desired. She was too ashamed to confess to any of her boyfriends what she really desired. As her relationships would end, she wondered if her holding back what she craved was a factor. Many of her suitors told her that they felt she was closed off and holding something back. She never admitted it, but she knew they were right. How could she ever confess what she really wanted without someone thinking she was crazy. At the same time though, she knew she couldn't be truly happy until she had experienced what she desired.

One night, alone in her apartment, Claire found herself in front of the computer. Feeling aroused, she logged on to several websites she had found devoted to rape and BDSM. She enjoyed lurking around these sites, viewing the pictures and reading some of the stories and posts of other members. In part, she was comforted by the fact that in reading many of the posts, other members seemed to live normal lives as she did. Many spoke of keeping their fantasies a secret from their real life friends and family. Others talked about how they had partners who they had shared their fantasies with and often acted them out. Once she lived on her own, Claire found herself visiting these websites more and more, indulging in her fantasies and masturbating to some of the stories. One writer in particular, she enjoyed. He posted on the Rape Room, Claire's favorite board. The writer's moniker was "thestalker" and he wrote stories of abducting women and torturing them slowly and mercilessly in between sadistic rape sessions. He wrote eloquently though, in a way that drew her in and turned her on. She was often tempted to send him a message letting him know what she thought and how his stories made her come in a way that no others did. Any time she drew close to doing so, alarm bells rang out in her head. He's probably a psychopath, she thought. Why would she want to reach out to him. It's not like she was ever going to meet him. Rationally, she couldn't convince herself of a good reason to do so. Yet the temptation wouldn't go away.

One night, a little tipsy after a night out with her girlfriends, she found herself at her computer, reading the latest installment posted by "thestalker". She felt the moistness between her legs as she read his latest chapter. His stories typically followed the same path, the abduction of a young woman, which was followed by several detailed torture and rape sessions. She always enjoyed the intimate details he provided, describing the victim's fear, the elaborate ways she was bound and trussed up, the stifling gags to prevent her screams from being heard. He described things in such a way that Claire could imagine herself as the victim, acting out the storylines in her mind, imagining the unthinkable deeds being performed on her body. As she finished reading, she noticed that he was listed as currently online. Claire felt her heart beating rapidly as she clicked on thestalker's profile to send him a private message. As she stared at the screen, contemplating what to write, she felt her arousal increase as her panties became moist. She slowly typed a short one line message and hesitated as she debated whether to click send or not. Finally, her impulse getting the best of her, she moved the mouse to the send prompt and clicked the button, letting out a small gasp as the message went off into cyberspace. The message read:

Hi,

I love your stories. Can't wait to read the next chapter.

Claire

After she sent the message, she regretted putting her real name down. Why hadn't she made up a name, something that couldn't possibly lead to her. Then again, she thought, what information could possibly be gleamed from a first name. He had no idea where she lived, or even whether that was her real name. Plus, he probably wouldn't even respond. As her nerves began to settle, a message notified her that she had mail. It was from thestalker. He had replied to her message. She could hear herself breathing as she clicked open the email to read what he wrote:

Thanks for writing, wanna chat more about what you like about them?

Stalker

Claire couldn't understand why, but she felt herself getting aroused just by reading the words on the screen. In her slightly buzzed state, she kept reading the words on the screen, wondering if she should reply. Her mind kept racing with conflicting thoughts. "What could possibly happen?" on one end, while "You're crazy to even be considering this" was on the other. Eventually, the former, together with the feeling she was getting between her thighs won her over and she clicked reply and sent him her handle. She logged into her IM, her pulse quickening as she waited, wondering if he was going to message her. She didn't have to wait long before her screen pinged and all of a sudden there it was. "Hi there, Claire". Claire, stared at the screen, nervous to see her name being used by thestalker. "Hi", she wrote back, unsure of what else to say. "So, what do you like about my stories, Claire?" the response appeared. Claire, nervously fiddled with the keyboard, unsure how to respond. "Um, I just like reading them" she replied, hoping he would move on. "Anything in particular?" Claire tried to think of what to respond to that. She felt her face blushing as she began to type. "I like the characters and the plot", she replied carefully, as if she were critiquing a Shakespearean play. "Well, thanks very much!" came the response. "Gotta go, but maybe we'll chat again soon" appeared on the screen and with that, thestalker had logged off and Claire's internet rendezvous had come to a quick and unsatisfying ending. All for the better, Claire thought to herself. At the same time, she felt a pang of disappointment that the chat didn't continue. Why couldn't she bring herself to tell him what she wanted to say? As she logged off her IM, she noticed that she had unread private message at her Rape Room account. It was from him. She clicked it open and felt her pulse quicken as she read it:

When you're really ready to chat, let me know.

Stalker

Claire felt a combination of frustration and relief wash over her as she shut down her computer. In one sense, she was relieved, since contacting a strange person on the internet was not something she typically engaged in. On the other hand, she felt a sense of disappointment. She touched her panties and felt how wet the brief exchange had made her. Why did this turn her on so much? As she lay in bed that evening, unable to sleep, all she could think about was the brief interaction she had with Stalker. His stories ran across her brain, bringing images to her mind's eye that both frightened and aroused her. As she recapped the night's events, she closed her eyes as her hand slid down between her thighs, rubbing her sex through her wet panties as her other hand crept under her thin tank top. Slowly she massaged her stomach, as one hand moved up towards her breasts, her fingers gently pinching her nipples as she felt her arousal rise as she began to imagine herself in Stalker's lair, his victim, as he approached her bound naked form. Her other hand effortlessly slid under her panties, circling her clit slowly, methodically, imagining what he'd be doing to her, how he'd be punishing her. Her fingers increased the pressure on her clit as she imagined him pinning his weight on top of her as he entered her, another finger entering her pussy as her hips started to gyrate. Her body felt like it was on fire as she began to moan picturing his strong body holding her down effortlessly, violating her mercilessly. Finally, she climaxed, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she envisioned Stalker finishing inside of her, leaving her ravaged, bound body there helpless to what ever he had in mind for her next. As her body relaxed, she again thought about her brief exchange with Stalker. She would have to figure out what to do about that. Would she be able to tell him what she really thought? That thought was left unanswered as she fell into a deep restful sleep.

05-03-2013, 10:16 AM	#1
mishmish Member Join Date: Sep 2008 Location: Nowhere and everyhere Posts: 66 Reputation: 254	Internet Romance Redux Some of you may have read this story on another board. I was never happy with the direction I took it and have started to rewrite it with a different bent. The first two or three chapters will be similar to the original. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading. Internet Romance Redux Claire was a 23 year old young professional. She had recently graduated from the university and had started her career in marketing. Bright and vivacious, she had the world at her fingertips. She had been working for just a few months at a small company but had already stood out as a rising star. She had recently moved out of her parents house and into her own apartment across town in the hip part of the city. She enjoyed her new apartment, close to the bars and restaurants she frequented often, and enjoyed the freedom that living on her own provided her. She lived close to many of her friends and enjoyed being able to go out and do as she pleased. All in all, she appeared to be typical of any young woman her age, she worked hard, she liked to go out and socialize and she lived a fairly carefree life. There was one thing that set Claire apart from her contemporaries. Since she was a young girl, Claire had sexual fantasies that she believed most others did not. She had fantasized about being kidnapped and raped for as long as she could remember. She imagined being tied up tightly in a hidden basement or dungeon, hidden away where no one could find her. She pictured a captor playing mind games with her, using her body as he pleased, and making her suffer endlessly. She abhorred these things in real life but in her fantasies, the thought of being bound and gagged while a captor had his way with her turned her on in a way conventional sex could not. She has long tried to figure out why this appealed to her, but could not pinpoint any event that first triggered it. It was a part of her that she had given up trying to figure out. The fact that this fantasy turned her on so, both embarrassed her and made her angry. How could something so reprehensible get her off so easily. Yet., any time she would masturbate, her thoughts inevitably turned towards the taboo and she would find herself climaxing to the thought of her rapist finishing himself off inside of her for the first time. Claire was aware of BDSM and other similar fetishes, but always believed that anyone really involved in it was some kind of deviant. She never sought it out, in part, because of her fear of getting caught. She couldn't imagine what would happen in the event someone she knew found out about her fantasies. The idea of someone else knowing her most intimate secret frightened her. She didn't want to be ostracized or thought of as some freak. She lived an otherwise normal life and intended to keep it that way. Her fantasies stayed just that, buried in the recesses of her mind, for only her pleasure. Over the years, Claire had several boyfriends. She was attractive and outgoing and caught the eye of many young men. She had hinted to a couple of them what her fantasies were but never could bring herself to tell anyone what she really wanted. She enjoyed sex and felt that she was in love a couple of times, but none of her relationships ever ventured into the territory which she truly desired. She was too ashamed to confess to any of her boyfriends what she really desired. As her relationships would end, she wondered if her holding back what she craved was a factor. Many of her suitors told her that they felt she was closed off and holding something back. She never admitted it, but she knew they were right. How could she ever confess what she really wanted without someone thinking she was crazy. At the same time though, she knew she couldn't be truly happy until she had experienced what she desired. One night, alone in her apartment, Claire found herself in front of the computer. Feeling aroused, she logged on to several websites she had found devoted to rape and BDSM. She enjoyed lurking around these sites, viewing the pictures and reading some of the stories and posts of other members. In part, she was comforted by the fact that in reading many of the posts, other members seemed to live normal lives as she did. Many spoke of keeping their fantasies a secret from their real life friends and family. Others talked about how they had partners who they had shared their fantasies with and often acted them out. Once she lived on her own, Claire found herself visiting these websites more and more, indulging in her fantasies and masturbating to some of the stories. One writer in particular, she enjoyed. He posted on the Rape Room, Claire's favorite board. The writer's moniker was "thestalker" and he wrote stories of abducting women and torturing them slowly and mercilessly in between sadistic rape sessions. He wrote eloquently though, in a way that drew her in and turned her on. She was often tempted to send him a message letting him know what she thought and how his stories made her come in a way that no others did. Any time she drew close to doing so, alarm bells rang out in her head. He's probably a psychopath, she thought. Why would she want to reach out to him. It's not like she was ever going to meet him. Rationally, she couldn't convince herself of a good reason to do so. Yet the temptation wouldn't go away. One night, a little tipsy after a night out with her girlfriends, she found herself at her computer, reading the latest installment posted by "thestalker". She felt the moistness between her legs as she read his latest chapter. His stories typically followed the same path, the abduction of a young woman, which was followed by several detailed torture and rape sessions. She always enjoyed the intimate details he provided, describing the victim's fear, the elaborate ways she was bound and trussed up, the stifling gags to prevent her screams from being heard. He described things in such a way that Claire could imagine herself as the victim, acting out the storylines in her mind, imagining the unthinkable deeds being performed on her body. As she finished reading, she noticed that he was listed as currently online. Claire felt her heart beating rapidly as she clicked on thestalker's profile to send him a private message. As she stared at the screen, contemplating what to write, she felt her arousal increase as her panties became moist. She slowly typed a short one line message and hesitated as she debated whether to click send or not. Finally, her impulse getting the best of her, she moved the mouse to the send prompt and clicked the button, letting out a small gasp as the message went off into cyberspace. The message read: Hi, I love your stories. Can't wait to read the next chapter. Claire After she sent the message, she regretted putting her real name down. Why hadn't she made up a name, something that couldn't possibly lead to her. Then again, she thought, what information could possibly be gleamed from a first name. He had no idea where she lived, or even whether that was her real name. Plus, he probably wouldn't even respond. As her nerves began to settle, a message notified her that she had mail. It was from thestalker. He had replied to her message. She could hear herself breathing as she clicked open the email to read what he wrote: Thanks for writing, wanna chat more about what you like about them? Stalker Claire couldn't understand why, but she felt herself getting aroused just by reading the words on the screen. In her slightly buzzed state, she kept reading the words on the screen, wondering if she should reply. Her mind kept racing with conflicting thoughts. "What could possibly happen?" on one end, while "You're crazy to even be considering this" was on the other. Eventually, the former, together with the feeling she was getting between her thighs won her over and she clicked reply and sent him her handle. She logged into her IM, her pulse quickening as she waited, wondering if he was going to message her. She didn't have to wait long before her screen pinged and all of a sudden there it was. "Hi there, Claire". Claire, stared at the screen, nervous to see her name being used by thestalker. "Hi", she wrote back, unsure of what else to say. "So, what do you like about my stories, Claire?" the response appeared. Claire, nervously fiddled with the keyboard, unsure how to respond. "Um, I just like reading them" she replied, hoping he would move on. "Anything in particular?" Claire tried to think of what to respond to that. She felt her face blushing as she began to type. "I like the characters and the plot", she replied carefully, as if she were critiquing a Shakespearean play. "Well, thanks very much!" came the response. "Gotta go, but maybe we'll chat again soon" appeared on the screen and with that, thestalker had logged off and Claire's internet rendezvous had come to a quick and unsatisfying ending. All for the better, Claire thought to herself. At the same time, she felt a pang of disappointment that the chat didn't continue. Why couldn't she bring herself to tell him what she wanted to say? As she logged off her IM, she noticed that she had unread private message at her Rape Room account. It was from him. She clicked it open and felt her pulse quicken as she read it: When you're really ready to chat, let me know. Stalker Claire felt a combination of frustration and relief wash over her as she shut down her computer. In one sense, she was relieved, since contacting a strange person on the internet was not something she typically engaged in. On the other hand, she felt a sense of disappointment. She touched her panties and felt how wet the brief exchange had made her. Why did this turn her on so much? As she lay in bed that evening, unable to sleep, all she could think about was the brief interaction she had with Stalker. His stories ran across her brain, bringing images to her mind's eye that both frightened and aroused her. As she recapped the night's events, she closed her eyes as her hand slid down between her thighs, rubbing her sex through her wet panties as her other hand crept under her thin tank top. Slowly she massaged her stomach, as one hand moved up towards her breasts, her fingers gently pinching her nipples as she felt her arousal rise as she began to imagine herself in Stalker's lair, his victim, as he approached her bound naked form. Her other hand effortlessly slid under her panties, circling her clit slowly, methodically, imagining what he'd be doing to her, how he'd be punishing her. Her fingers increased the pressure on her clit as she imagined him pinning his weight on top of her as he entered her, another finger entering her pussy as her hips started to gyrate. Her body felt like it was on fire as she began to moan picturing his strong body holding her down effortlessly, violating her mercilessly. Finally, she climaxed, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she envisioned Stalker finishing inside of her, leaving her ravaged, bound body there helpless to what ever he had in mind for her next. As her body relaxed, she again thought about her brief exchange with Stalker. She would have to figure out what to do about that. Would she be able to tell him what she really thought? That thought was left unanswered as she fell into a deep restful sleep.