Heather Meets the Vile Gamer	Back to J	Back to main page

Collected by Djian

Another story by Heather, READ this first The Taking of "Heather" (36kb)

Heather Meets the Vile Gamer
by DEDHeather94@aol.com

June 2, 2000


Have you ever known life to imitate art? Or at least what passes for art? I
have. It happened to me. I'm still not sure how much of it I'm responsible
for. Maybe all of it.
Perhaps you've read my short story, "The Taking of Heather"? It's a
completely fictional tale based on my twisted fantasies and originally
written for an online friend as a bedtime story--or so I told him. Yeah, it
was all cute and teasing and harmless at the time. The story has made the
rounds over the internet since then and has even been posted to a
newsletter. Mostly I send it to people I meet online who have similar
fantasies. Once again, harmless. We're all fairly anonymous in cyber-space.
Even sending pictures doesn't cause any harm....or so I thought.
I met Chuck online after reading a story he wrote called "The Vile Gamer".
Like "Heather", it was also written in first-person form....except it was
told from a rapist's point of view--it was like a chilling look into his
mind. The bragging, ironic tone almost read like a manifesto. I thought it
was very descriptive and quite good It was unfortunately posted to a site of
the worst-written rape stories I'd ever read. This one was definitely
different. I could tell this guy had real talent so I clicked his email link
at the bottom of the page and sent simply two words, "Great Story!!" I was
pleasantly surprised a few days later when he replied.
We corresponded frequently after that, and even chatted real time thru an
instant messenger service. Everything was very friendly and "normal". We
seemed to have many of the same interests. Of course I sent him "The Taking
of Heather". I was dying to know what another writer would think of it. He
said it was wonderful. We were a mutual admiration society of two. After
seeing my picture posted on my web page he flattered me further by informing
me that I would be the subject of his next "Vile Gamer" story.
Ok, so we clicked, but we didn't realize just how much till we did our first
roleplay. His writing talent was evident as we did a scene similar to the
one in my story--villain breaks in and ravishes the unsuspecting and stoned
heroine. It was similar in setting but different as well. Although he didn't
terrorize her with phone calls first (a touch I picked up from horror
movies), Chuck's villain had more of a vicious mean streak than my Dark One.
The things he wrote shocked and thrilled me at the same time. I could
actually feel my heart racing at his words. I played off of his lead
perfectly (so he said later) and the result was an intensely satisfying
drama.
After our roleplay our chats became darker--more focused on our shared
fantasies. He vowed to find me someday and make it all real. I suppose I
should have been scared--or at least more cautious, but I didn't take him
seriously. Why would I? I mean, the guy lived several states away and had a
life.
I didn't help matters at all. In fact I made things worse--I know that now.
I sent him many pictures of myself in various sexy poses and states of
undress. No nudes, but several of them may as well have been. He
particularly liked the ones of me gagged. I was even so bold as to record
and send him sound wavs of myself trying to beg and scream while gagged. Why
did I do it? I suppose it gave me a thrill knowing I was turning someone on
from far away. The thought that he was looking at my pictures and listening
to my wavs and fantasizing about me made me feel desirable, ....beautiful.
His reactions to the things I sent him were more than satisfying. The
internet is truly a paradise for teases.
Unfortunately there was a price to pay, and I was about to pay it....big
time.

Every once in a while I go to the movies alone. It probably seems strange to
some, but to me it's a wonderful escape. Without a companion it's easy to
lose myself in the story and turn off all other thoughts. My husband hates
going, and never seems to mind when I go, so when things get to be too much
and I need to get out of the house and chill for awhile it's time for movie
night.
Sometime in the middle of that week while Chuck and I were chatting, I told
him about my movie nights and how I was due for another one. He asked me
casually when I was planning to go.
"This Saturday night", was my reply.
"Do you go right after work or wait till the later show?"
"The late one", I answered.
Since becoming manager of the store I work at, I have to work till 7 pm
every Saturday, but since I have Sundays off, Saturday nights are perfect
for movie night. I have plenty of time to go home first, spend time with my
daughter and put her to bed before heading to the theater. My husband, Tom,
also enjoyed those few hours to himself.
Chuck was amused when I told him how I liked to get there at least a
half-hour early so I can smoke a joint in the car first.
"Well, I hope you're careful not to be seen."
"Oh sure. I park way in the back so I can see all the traffic and I've never
been caught yet", I bragged.
"What kind of car do you drive? I hope it's not one that draws a lot of
attention."
Oh how casually and cleverly he slipped that question in. Without any
trepidation at all I answered that it was a dark blue Bonneville and didn't
really stand out that much.
"Be careful..." he wrote, " You could be abducted someday".
I typed a big LOL to that and moved on to another subject. Before the
conversation was over, he asked what I planned to go see. His interest in
this didn't bother me at all. Why would it?
I didn't see him online again for the rest of the week, but there really
wasn't anything unusual about that. Often we'd go for days without catching
each other online.
Saturday night finally came. It had been a really hectic week and I was very
much looking forward to my little escape and being off the next day. I
didn't change clothes; just wore what I'd worn to work that day--dress
pants, a light low-cut sweater with sleeves that end at the elbows and my
low black heels. Underneath, I had on my red bra, black panties and black
thigh-high stockings. Lately I had taken to wearing sexy underthings because
they made me feel sexy. Sometimes it's a real spirit-booster.
I pulled into the parking lot around 9 p.m. The movie wouldn't start till
9:30 so I had plenty of time to smoke my other little spirit booster. I
proceeded to do just that while keeping my eyes peeled for cops or nosy
people. It was so pleasant to just sit there smoking and listening to the
radio. After I felt sufficiently high and relaxed, I put the roach in my
little tin box and lit a cigarette. The movie would be starting in about 15
minutes. I planned to finish the cigarette, park a little closer, then
stagger inside and grab a seat.
I remember that a song I liked a lot was starting to play and I reached down
to turn it up. When my eyes lifted there was a car cruising very close to
mine. It circled me once, then parked right next to me I could see the lone
driver--a man with dark hair and dark eyes--staring at me, which made me
uncomfortable but not scared. Mostly I was just glad I'd finished my joint.
The man got out of his car, still staring at me. He was handsome...tall,
lean but with muscles. I averted my eyes and thought maybe I should put the
driver's side window back up. I always keep it up while smoking the weed so
passers-by don't get a whiff, but after I'm finished I put it down so the
smoke can escape and I can smoke my cigarette without choking. My hand moved
toward the button that moves the window up and down electronically, but I
was a beat too late, because suddenly his face was in my open window.
Smiling at me he said, "Hi Heather".
I nearly fainted...you see it was just like my story. Heather is my online
name.
I opened my mouth to say something lame like "who are you?" but I knew good
and well who it was. Only an online friend would call me Heather, and only
one online friend knew where I would be this night--and what time and what
color car and that I was stoned and muddled. Jeez why didn't I just send him
a map and an engraved invitation while I was at it?
Before I could even begin to utter the stupid question on my lips I heard a
loud click and was horrified to see a pearl-handled switchblade in his hand.
He wasn't overtly threatening me with it--at least not yet. He was still
just looking at me--looking me up and down in fact--and holding it lightly
and casually in his hand as though it were nothing more threatening than a
pencil. My eyes could barely leave the wicked-looking blade. One look at his
eyes was even scarier. They were so dark and cold. I felt rooted to the
spot...almost hypnotized...frozen with shock and fear.
His next words were spoken in a low and menacing voice that made my blood
run cold.
"You're not going to see any movie tonight, you teasing little bitch."
I gasped at being spoken to this way by somebody I thought was a friend, but
before I could protest he snarled, "This is what you're going to do. Get out
of your car real slow, get into mine and don't make a sound. If you scream I
swear it's the last sound you'll ever make Do you believe me?"
Stunned into silence, I nodded absently. What the hell had just happened?
The sudden terror was so unexpected. I'd been feeling so mellow and at peace
only 20 seconds ago...
My eyes shifted to the keys still dangling from the ignition. My brain
desperately tried to shout a message to the rest of me....TURN THE DAMN
KEY!!! PEEL THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!! Yeah, easy for my brain to say. I
couldn't even move I was so scared. I mean, he was still in my window...his
face only inches from mine...and there was that blade....that sharp gleaming
blade. Any sudden moves on my part and I could just imagine that blade
whipping across my throat....
He either noticed where my eyes were looking or he read my mind, because
even though I hadn't moved a muscle he said "Don't even think about trying
that. I'll slice your fucking throat right here cunt. Trust me, you'll never
have time to even reach that key. Wanna try it?"
I felt my throat closing....tears welling up in my eyes. My breathing had
become too rapid and was sounding ragged and screamy in my own ears. Here
was the mind-numbing, muscle-contracting fear that I was so fascinated with
while safely spinning stories and roleplays on my computer. This was it. The
real thing. So this is what it feels like, I remember thinking at one point.
So this is what it's like to be really afraid. At the moment the only
fantasy I longed for was one in which I'd stayed home that night.
I kept praying this was some kind of sick joke on his part and any moment
he'd crack up laughing and say "Gotcha!!" or something. That hope was fading
fast. But I had to talk to him. I mean this was Chuck! My pal!! The guy who
was so friendly and flattered that I'd liked his story. Surely he was just a
regular person like me who happened to have a twisted fantasy or two. Didn't
we all? Nobody acted on them!
"Chuck?", I managed to gasp out. "Chuck...c'mon....you're just kidding
ar-..." my words were cut off sharply as he yanked my car door open..
"Shut the FUCK UP you stupid BITCH!! Do what I SAY....NOW!!"
I knew that once I got out of my car and into his I would be in big trouble.
Completely at his mercy. But what else could I do? He was too close for me
to get away and with the threats he'd made, it appeared I was already in big
trouble. My only hope it seemed, would be to do as he said, then maybe I
could reason with him before things got too far out of hand. Yeah....right.
I could feel my lips trembling as I looked up at him...trying to plead with
my eyes since he wouldn't let me speak.
He glared at me. "Now bitch....OUT. We have somewhere to go. Things to do.
Heh hehehehe"
Still looking up at him piteously I tried again. "Please...", I whimpered,
"don't do this"
Suddenly he had a painful grip on my arm and was pulling me out of the car.
I really couldn't believe this was happening. I was damning myself for
choosing such an isolated place to be parked. But then I always parked in
the isolated spots on these occasions.
"You're starting to piss me off honey. You don't want to do that".
Would he really murder me in this public parking lot if I screamed or tried
to run? I realized that if he was crazed enough to come all this way for me
then he was capable of anything. Before I could debate with myself further
on the matter, I was already inside his car...having been rudely shoved into
the passenger side and landing on my butt. In a flash he was slamming his
own door and starting the engine. My fate was sealed now and I knew it.
Feeling totally defeated for the moment, I huddled in the seat as far
against the door as I could get, crying in fear and utter despair. He kept
looking over at me and snickering. Touching my hair....my face. Crooning and
sneering at me in turn.
This was just too much. I had to try again to reason with him. With a great
effort I attempted to get my voice under control.
"Chuck....P-please....can't we please just talk for a minute? Please listen
to me"
He turned to me grinning.
"Oh...time to beg huh? Ok let's hear it then! This should be good". As
though whatever I had to say was only for his amusement. But it was my only
hope.
"I.....I thought we were friends", I heard myself say in a shaking voice.
"Oh sure. We're about to get real friendly!" he leered.
"NO!! I mean.....why? Why are you doing this to me? You're scaring me....and
...and you're nice!! I know you are!" I could hear myself start to babble in
my desperation. I really wasn't doing a very good job of getting out of
this.
"Why??" He laughed outright, "WHY?? Remember all those sexy pictures? The
wavs?"
I could feel my face burning, remembering how I enjoyed doing that. How
exciting it was for me knowing I was turning him on.
"Besides", he added, "stop acting so shocked. You told me where you'd be
tonight, what time, where you park. Hell, girl...you even described your car
to me. You want this, slut. You know you do".
I think my jaw dropped when he said that. Yes, I'd told him these things,
but how could I know he would actually travel just to find me? Somehow that
made my situation even worse. What chance would I have of talking him out of
this when he went to this much effort to make it happen?
"NO!!" I said loudly. "we were just talking!!"
"Dumbass bitch!! You knew I'd come looking for you someday. I told you I
would....and you made it so easy!"
Tears were overtaking me again as I continued to protest.
"I didn't know you were serious! I didn't KNOW!! We....we....it was all in
fun! Oh please Chuck, I don't want this ok? I really DON'T! I'm sorry you
misunderstood but please just stop this now!! Take me back to my car ok
Chuck?? PLEEEASE???" I was pleading desperately....my words coming too fast,
my voice trembling and teary. He was shaking his head and laughing like I'd
just told a hilarious joke. My heart sank.
"You're too much! You know that? You really thought you could just keep
teasing me like that? What am I? A fuckin toy you like to play with?" I
shook my head but he continued. "Well fuck you bitch! You're the toy
tonight. My own little fuck toy. I'm gonna play with you however I want.
Just remember, bitch....this is your fault."
As we continued to speed toward whatever destination he had planned, I sank
further into my seat with my hands over my face....covering my eyes in shame
and horror. Oh Christ, I thought....what had I done?

**********

The rest of that car ride was surreal. I have no idea how long it was. He
began leering at me again--touching me again as I cringed; touching my
breasts and between my legs with one hand while he drove. He was torturing
me with threats of what was going to happen to me when we got stopped....
"Yeeeaahhh....oh baby you're gonna get a fuckin allright. I'm gonna fuck you
so hard......everywhere. Your mouth, your pussy....that tight little
ass....ohhh, you're mine now bitch".
Stunned and terrorized by his words I barely moved, just trembled all over,
wailing things like "Ohhhh shit!! oh God oh NOOO!"
"Shut the fuck up cunt, we're almost there."
I looked around, wondering where he was taking me. I saw a hotel sign
looming ahead. I allowed a slight hope to shine thru the muddled fear. There
were other people at hotels.....if I could just get somebody's attention....
"Listen up bitch cause this is what's gonna happen." His hand snaked out and
grabbed my face, wet with tears. "I'll be parking right in front of the
room--only a few feet to walk. We won't draw as much attention that way. Now
when I get parked you just keep your ass in that seat till I open your door
for you--real gentleman-like. Don't forget my blade either. I swear if you
try to run or make one damn sound I'll slice you on the spot. Got it?"
I nodded, sniffling...trying hard not to panic.
He smiled again, looking pleased. "Good slut"
When we were parked he paused to look me up and down again.
"You're going to be so much fun....damn I can't wait" The look in his eyes
scared me so bad.
Suddenly he was out of the car and moving rapidly to my side. The door
opened and I realized there would be no more chance to run. I was too scared
to try screaming. I don't even know if a scream would have made it past my
closed throat. He was gripping my arm again as he led me the few feet to the
door. Within seconds we were inside.
The bottom truly dropped out when he shut and locked the door. What little
control I had left deserted me as I felt hysteria closing in.
He was advancing toward me, a predatory look in his dark eyes and an evil
smile on his handsome face. I was backing away from him, aware of just how
little space there was to back into. I was shaking my head,
whimpering...."Nooo....no please. Chuck please don't....NOOO!!!" Soon he
would pounce like the damn animal he was, then God help me.
When I could back up no further and he was inches away from me, I suddenly
kicked him as hard as I could in the shin, then dashed madly for the door. I
couldn't help but feel a small bit of satisfaction when I heard a startled,
pained curse as the slightly pointed toe of my shoe connected, but oh god if
he caught me....
"OWW!! OH YOU FUCKING NO-GOOD BITCH!!!", I heard him yell as I grappled with
the doorknob--in my panic I seemed to forget it was locked. Oh I was batting
a thousand tonight. Breathing way too hard and too fast I finally found the
lock and was fumbling with it as I heard him cursing and stomping after me.
Before I could make any progress with the lock, I gasped as I was yanked
painfully backwards by my long hair. Spinning me around he began slapping me
hard across my face. I felt my lip split and tasted blood. He slapped me
repeatedly while I shrieked--hoping someone would hear me and come to my
rescue. He pulled me further into the room, away from the door, and stopped
slapping me long enough to give me a hard shove which sent me sprawling onto
the bed. Then he was on me, holding me down while I continued to howl in
pain and fear.
"SHUT....UP!!!" I heard him growl between clenched teeth. Then I heard that
ominous click again, and for the first time felt the sharp blade against my
throat. My struggles and screams ended abruptly.
"Bitch, do I have to kill you after all? DO I???"
Reduced to whimpers once again, I pleaded for my life.
"NO!! I'm sorry, I'm sorry no please don't kill me!", hitching back a sob, I
continued, "I was just scared...oh please Chuck don't kill me, don't hurt me
anymore!" I think I kept saying his name to remind him of his humanity or
something, but it didn't work.
"Are you gonna be a good whore now?" he queried, while putting more pressure
on the blade at my throat.
"Yes", I croaked
"SAY IT!!" The blade was starting to break the skin. In his fury he was
pushing it harder.
Hysterically I cried out, "YES!!! YES I'LL BE A GOOD WHORE!!"
He then made me say I was a filthy cum-slurping slut and that I wanted his
big cock. Finally with great relief I felt the knife leave my neck and my
hands went there automatically to feel what damage had been done. There was
a little blood, but luckily the cut didn't appear to be deep.
My humiliation wasn't complete just yet. He pulled me off the bed by my hair
and flung me to the middle of the room. I stumbled, but managed not to fall.
"Now get em off", he commanded.
I stood there shaking, not quite comprehending, which pissed him off some
more.
"Are you deaf now as well as dumb?", he snapped. "Strip Bitch!!"
One look at his face told me not to argue. Feeling numb now, I quickly
pulled my sweater off as if I were at home--undressing in my own bedroom
after a long day. Oh dammit how I wished I were there! Hesitating only a
moment, I then undid my pants, my face burning from both the embarrassment
and the recent slaps.
"Go slower slut!", he bellowed.
For the first time I glared at him. He laughed.
"C'mon, don't be in such a hurry. I'll fuck you soon enough. Let me see what
you've got first".
"I hate you!!", I hissed, "I'll never talk to you again!" Pretty lame, I
know, and probably really stupid as well, but he just laughed, amused by my
outburst.
"Just do it slut"
Not really sure what he wanted, I slowly pushed my pants to the floor and
stepped out of them. When he saw my thigh-highs he whistled with approval.
"Yeah honey, leave those on. You really were expecting me huh? With your
whore underwear" Mocking laughter followed.
I didn't even bother to argue as I looked at him with dull hate. Slowly,
without any more prompting, I removed my bra next, then my panties...all the
while trying not to hear his wolf whistles and comments about my body.
He'd sat on the end of the bed sometime during my strip and now that I was
nude save for my stockings and heels, I stood still as he stared.
"Come here"
I trembled harder, but knew better than to refuse. Slowly I moved forward
till I was standing in front of him. He picked up my red bra from the floor
nearby and turned me around, pulling my wrists together behind my back,
binding them together tightly with my own bra. Turning me back around to
face him he started pushing me down by my shoulders.
"On your knees where you belong whore" I let myself sink to them while he
was pushing me and nearly lost my balance.
I knew what was next and I couldn't look. When I heard the sound of his
zipper, I closed my eyes tightly and kept them closed while I heard him
undressing. They flew open again, startled when he grabbed me by my hair
once again. I gasped to see his huge, swollen weapon right in my face. While
gripping my head firmly by the hair, he pulled my face closer and began
rubbing it on my lips. I couldn't move my head, but my lips were clamped
together. I knew that wouldn't help, that he'd get it in there eventually.
But every part of me was crying out at the outrage and disgust I felt at
what he was going to make me do. I was desperately fighting back tears--I
musn't cry!! If I cried I knew I could suffocate. Oh god I knew I could
suffocate anyway, crying or not.
"Open up Bitch", he let go of his dick and once again I felt the knife at my
throat. That did it. Not wanting to get cut again, I quickly obeyed. With no
hesitation he shoved himself forward. My mouth was being forced open as wide
as possible to accommodate the sudden invasion. Don't panic, oh don't panic
oh please oh god please let this be over with soon...I kept repeating this
in my head, trying to stay calm.
"Ohhhhh....yeaaahhh Slut. Suck it....suck it gooood"
Odd that he should say that, since sucking isn't exactly what I was doing.
There was nothing I could do but endure as I was subjected to an oral rape
of terrible brutality. He stood, his legs apart somewhat to get better
leverage I suppose, and dropped the knife as he clutched my hair in both
hands. Holding my head helplessly still this way, he begain thrusting into
my mouth hard....going deeper with each cruel shove. I could feel my throat
trying to gag as the head of this horrible weapon battered it with every
forward thrust of his hips. My jaw muscles began aching badly. I couldn't
try to back away since he was holding my head in place so firmly and my
hands were tied so tightly behind my back.
I was given a brief few moments of relief when he pulled out and began
rubbing his saliva-wet cock all over my face. I was gasping in as much air
as possible, and it was a good thing I was because the assault on my mouth
and throat were only just beginning.
He shoved his hateful instrument of torture into my mouth again, but instead
of the frantic in and out plunges of before he gripped my head even harder
and pushed and pushed till I felt him entering my throat. My air was now cut
off. Panic closed in as he held it there...no out strokes, just in and in as
far as he could push it.
"Aw yeah bitch. Take it all! Swallow my big cock! Heheheh...you look so
fuckin cute with your nose smashed against me like that...your mouth all
full"
With that, he jerked forward again even harder than before. My body began to
thrash from lack of air. Cruelly, he laughed even harder at this and said,
"I wonder how long you can hold your breath?"
Finally he drew out enough so I could snatch a quick breath, then plunged
forward again--even deeper down my throat this time. I was sure he'd kill me
as he picked up an even more furious pace than before, pistoning in and out
of my mouth and throat as hard as he could--not caring at all how much it
hurt me...not caring that I couldn't breathe. Never had I felt so
insignificant, so used. I was nothing during those torturous moments.
Nothing but a hole to be abused. All I could do was try to keep my head and
pray he'd finish soon.
Finally I felt his body stiffen as he let out a harsh cry and shoved into my
throat one last time--harder than ever--and held it there as his cock began
to jerk. A sudden rush of liquid was filling my throat and flowing straight
down. My body was convulsing as my abused throat tried to gag in protest.
Frantically, I forced my throat to swallow while it was desperately trying
to cough it up. With his steadily-shooting hardness still buried in there I
feared I would choke to death for sure if I didn't allow his disgusting
fluids to go down.
"Ahhhh...YEAH!!", he was shouting. "Swallow every drop, Whore! That's what
cunts like you have a mouth for".
Oh, the awful bastard! He truly was vile.
When he finally withdrew, I was horrified to see he was still hard...still
huge. The angry weapon was far from finished with me.
He released my hair and I fell to the floor. I lay there on my
side--coughing, breathing--it felt good to just be able to breathe again. He
was standing over me, also breathing hard--no doubt from his brutal
exertions. My eyes were closed. I didn't want to see any more....ever.
When he spoke again it was with a grudging admiration. His voice was almost
kind.
"Damn baby....you got a hot little mouth on you there. You did good. You
might live to see another day after all!"
I refused to speak or even look at him. He bent down and suddenly scooped me
up--one arm under my knees and the other around my waist.
"Come on. Daddy's got a reward for you."

Gingerly I perched on the very edge of the bed, as far from him as possible.
He actually looked hurt, but shrugged a little and turned toward me.
"Ok Heather. I just wanted to say....well, there's a lot I'd like to say,
but nothing you want to hear right now."
I continued to stare straight ahead.
"But there's one thing I have to tell you...something you should know in
case you're thinking of going to the police".
I turned toward him then, startled. That was the last thing I wanted to do!
But then, I don't suppose he could have known that.
"I have copies and printouts of all the pictures you sent me, all the
letters too. All of our conversations are logged--remember our roleplays?
Oh, and those wavs..."
I had no doubt that he'd kept and logged everything. Of course. The perfect
crime. The bastard. The most fucked up thing about this whole night was that
no matter how I'd been brutalized, no matter how scared I was I had only
myself to blame and I knew it. Maybe I should have called this story Stupid
Bitch Gets What's Cumming to Her. That's exactly how raw and ugly and sordid
this sorry ass tale has been. And so true!! Damn, that title rings so true!
It really sickened me now, knowing he had my pictures--the sexy ones
especially that I'd teased him with. My face burns even now when I think of
him looking at them...remembering....gloating.
"I know you said no...a lot, and that I really raped you. Maybe I'd go down
for it", he said lightly with a shrug. "but would you really want all of
that coming out? It would you know...."
I was shaking my head. "I'm not...I won't" , I whispered.
He kept talking as though he hadn't heard me. Maybe he hadn't; or maybe he
just wanted to say these things to make me continue feeling helpless. He
really had no clue as to how little his evidence meant to me....at least in
any legal sense.
"...all of it. Not just the roleplays, but everything. Everything you ever
said to me. Like I remember this one conversation we had when you said
something like 'you gotta find me first!'...that was so damn cute...."
I'd heard enough and blurted, "I said I WON'T!!" quite loudly this time. In
a little lower, but still nearly hysterical voice, I continued trying to
convince him. See, I wanted him assured that he could walk away from
this--it seemed the only way he was going to let me go.
"You don't have to keep telling me these things!! I'm NOT going to the damn
cops! I never was! Nothing you said convinced me. I just....I don't want
anybody to know." I knew I was telling the truth. Nobody could know about
this....I would die.
Looking somewhat relieved he began easing closer to me. I still didn't like
how he was looking at me. Not at all.
"Well cool! Now that we've got that settled...." I didn't like the sound of
his voice either. Him arm went around me....like we were on a date for
godssakes.
Trying to wriggle away from his one-armed embrace I fairly whined,
"Chuck....please. I need to go now....I want to go now! OK??....CHUCK!!"
Without warning he'd pulled me to him firmly, gripped my face, then forced a
kiss on me. "Gee," I thought sarcastically as I tried to twist my head away,
"our first kiss". I shoved at his steadily advancing chest...he was getting
too close...pushing me backwards.
I managed to break the kiss..."DON'T!!!!".....he ignored me, bearing his
body down on me till I was on my back. "NOOOOO!!", I wailed pitifully. "Get
off me, Chuck!! Dammit Please get OFFF!!!" Still ignoring my pleas, he was
holding me down with his body while kissing me roughly....my lips, my
neck...groping at my breasts, pinching the nipples. Having the luxury of not
being tied up this time, I was trying to shove him off me or away from me as
hard as I could; twisting under him in a pathetic attempt to scoot out from
under. All my efforts, of course, were useless. My struggles had turned him
on again, and he was much stronger than me. I didn't have a chance.
I could feel his hardness against me as I fought that brief and losing
battle, amazed that he was hard again, despairing that he'd never let me go.
He was breathing hard, holding me down with one arm as he urgently undid his
jeans, a wild look in his eye.
I tried again. "CHUCK NNNOOO!!! NO MORE...." I was starting to cry again.
"You PROMISED!!!"
"I promised not to hurt you..", he muttered while jerking at my pants now.
"and I won't." Pulling them off me easily and shoving them impatiently
aside, he forced himself between my tightly clenched legs and lunged
forward. When I screamed, he clamped his hand over my mouth but kept going.
I couldn't believe it. Just when I thought this nightmare was over there I
was, helplessly pinned under him while he raped me again.
At least he wasn't brutal this time. He didn't hit me or threaten me or even
call me a bad name. I suppose he thought he was being romantic.

*****

When he finally took me back to my car (it was still there, keys and all),
he'd barely gotten his car stopped all the way when I quickly opened the
door and scrambled out before he could stop me. As I slammed the door I
could hear him saying "Heather, wait", but I wasn't slowing down for
anything. I didn't want to hear anything more he had to say. I never wanted
to see him again.
Before he could try to pursue me I was in my car and peeling out of there as
I wished I'd done as soon as he approached my window an eternity ago. As an
after-thought I even flipped him the birdy finger as my tires squealed. I
know...it was terribly juvenile and a bit redundant in this case, but for a
few seconds it made me feel a little better.
It didn't look like he was going to chase me. I drove around for a while,
radio blasting, muttering to myself like a lunatic. When I was sure I wasn't
being followed I pulled into Wal-Mart's parking lot and sat there a long
time before going in. Reaction sat in and I began shaking uncontrollably.
Alive....alive...the word reverberated in my head over and over. I was
alive....I'm alive.

The Aftermath

To this day no one knows what happened to me that night a few months ago..
Well...no one but him.
I've never spoken of it aloud, not even to myself when alone. I never will
either.
I had hoped against hope that Tom would be asleep when I got home, but when
I walked in he was kicked back on the couch watching tv and waiting up for
me. One look at my bruised face and swollen, cut lip made him spring to his
feet, eyes wide.
"Baby!! What happened to you??"
To my own surprise I burst into tears, explaining while he held me that some
fucking asshole had pulled out in front of me in traffic on the way home and
I'd had to slam on my brakes so hard that my face was driven into the
steering wheel. The story effectively explained my bruises, my tears and my
uncontrollable trembling. It was natural, after all, to still be a bit shook
up after an almost-accident. Especially since I'd gotten hurt.
Sure...he believed it. Why wouldn't he? Later when he asked about the
movie--I'd been uncharacteristically quiet about it--I simply shrugged and
said,
"Oh....it was ok I guess."

*****

In the shower later I scrubbed myself like a maniac. I couldn't get clean
enough. I could still feel his touch no matter how hard I tried to wash him
away. Funny, I thought, how many of the rape-victim cliches were true. Many
weren't though...at least in my case. It still amazes me how normal I
managed to act most times.

*****

I was afraid to make love with Tom for several nights. I had no idea how I
would feel or react. What if I freaked out or something? I couldn't put him
off for long, however, and it turned out ok. Better than ok, really. I
actually felt much better in his familiar embrace. It felt as if he were
reclaiming me....although he didn't know it. I would die or kill before
letting him know it.
There were other things he could never know; like how images and memories
would come to me unbidden. Those moments that had frightened me so badly at
the time would return to me not only during lovemaking, but at various odd
moments during my days.....and leave me breathless...tingling....wet. I
didn't know what was wrong with me.
Funny, I thought, how so many of the rape-victim cliches are not true.

*****

I didn't go near the computer for days. I didn't care if I ever went online
again. Eventually I had to go back. Tom was asking why I wasn't into it
anymore, and I realized that my sudden disinterest--easily traced back to
the night I came home bruised--was starting to look suspicious.
I had mail--quite a bit of it. I had several online friends whom I normally
talked to nearly every day. They were worried since they hadn't seen me
online or heard from me for a while. I really didn't want to face them just
yet. See, Chuck wasn't the only one I'd teased. I was understandably
paranoid now.
Speaking of Chuck, I wasn't really surprised to see there was mail from him
too. I'd hoped he would just leave me alone, but I think I knew better. I
considered deleting them unread, but I couldn't. I'm not sure why, other
than the fact that I never could leave a letter unread.
The first few said simply "Are you ok?" with requests that I write him back.
The bastard.
The last one was the one I've read and re-read over and over:

Dear Heather,
I know you hate me now. I don't blame you. I just wanted to say that our
encounter was the most intensely powerful, mind-blowing experience I've ever
had. I know it was for you too, although I don't expect you to admit it yet.
You probably feel I betrayed our friendship by acting on what you told me.
But I did tell you I'd find you. I honestly believed it was what you wanted
too. Sometime during that incredible night it occured to me that you really
were as horrified, angry and scared as you seemed. But I couldn't stop.
Nothing could have made me stop. I only wish I could have had you all night.
I've never been so on fire before.
I gaze at your pictures and remember with perfect detail how your body
felt--inside and out. I can close my eyes and feel you quivering beneath me
still. Your gagged and muffled screams wake me up in the dead of night
sometimes. I awake imagining I can still smell your scent on me.
We had a shared fantasy. I made it come true. Maybe it was too real for you.
Maybe I did take you totally against your will. I'm sorry about your face. I
guess I was too caught up in the moment.
Heather, I have to say this....even if it makes you hate me worse. I said
I'd find you someday, and maybe I was only half-serious--until you told me
of your upcoming movie night, and how you would be alone. I know you didn't
exactly invite me, but subconsciously I think you did. I could almost hear
you calling to me--challenging me to find you.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I really am just a sick motherfucker like you said.
But I can't forget how wet you were, or how hard you came.
Do you think of me when you make love? I'll bet you do. And I'll bet you get
hotter and cum harder than you ever did before. I don't know how I know
this, but I'm right aren't I? It pleases me knowing this, yet tears me apart
with jealousy to think of another having you--even if he's the one who's
supposed to.
Hate me. Wish me dead if you want...but I can't stop thinking about you and
what happened.
I want you again. I'll have you again.
I want to feel your struggles again, hear your screams. Next time I'll take
you someplace remote, where your screams can be unleashed without a gag. As
sexy as gagged screams are to me, I want to hear them full volume next
time....and feel your body shaking with them. I want to taste your tears and
hear you begging me to stop.
I WILL have you again, Heather...my hot little slut. Raping you is a right
I'm claiming for a long long time. Even if you belong to another, you're
mine now. Don't ever forget that.

Love,

Chuck

The first time I read this, I sat stunned and terrified when the tone of his
letter changed. All apologies and lame explanations one moment, threats to
rape me again the next. He really was crazy.
A deep, icy fear had begun to grow in me....accompanied by a deep, hot
tingling in my sex....
Reading those words still scare me badly.....and make me so wet....

God help me.

The End

Another story by Heather The Taking of "Heather" (36kb)
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