Her hands trembled as she put on her makeup. Abigail normally only used a light amount but tonight she was caking it on. She barely recognized herself in the mirror. Her heart jumped as she checked herself out. She was a slim and short woman, barely 5’3 and 100lbs soaking wet. She did have a decent chest but otherwise lacked any curves. It wasn’t that she was ugly, just plain. It was how she looked, how she dressed, it was just her natural order. Her truth. Or so she had thought.

She had read erotica before, dirty little stories online. She didn’t care for the fake or professional porn videos, but a well-written story always got her warmed up. And then one day, she had read a story with rape in it. Violent rape. And she had masturbated to a powerful, if guilty, orgasm. After that, it became more and more frequent. Eventually, while looking for rape stories she found a rape kink site and learned about rape baiting.

Frankly, it was insane. Who in their right mind would try to get raped? Look for sex, sure, but actively entice men to rape them? That was crazy. Yet once that worm was in her head, Abigail couldn’t shake it. Day and night, it nagged her, invaded her dreams, her fantasies, until she was literally crying as she masturbated, craving it.

And so here she was, dressed in a cheap red dress, no bra or panties, 5 in pumps, and a tiny purse that held her ID and some cash and nothing else. She couldn’t be doing this, she shouldn’t be doing this, but she was. She couldn’t help herself. She was tired of that empty feeling. The only time she felt alive was reading those stories and accounts. She knew deep down most of them were made up, but a few felt so real. So primal. She got in her car and drove to the opposite side of town. Where no one would know her, where the bars were cheap and shitty, and where maybe, just maybe, she could feel alive.

The night started slow and at the first bar she did get hit on a lot, some friendly stares, a couple hitched breaths as a man groped her, but no one got pushy in that way she wanted or needed. She knew the men she had danced with felt teased and frustrated, but even as she walked to her car, none of them followed her. None of them took the bait.

The next bar was much the same. She got drunker, bolder, and ground and purposefully slurred her words. She walked slowly to the bathroom and later to her car. No one followed and no one grabbed her. Somehow, even the attention she was getting just made her feel worse, broken. She felt rejected because no one had tried to rape her. How fucked up was that, she thought. How dare those men not take advantage of her! She sobered up and thought about what she was wishing for and hated herself. There were too few good people in the world and here she was, angry that none had forced themselves on her. The very thought should have made her happy, but all she felt was emptiness. She decided that no matter what, at the very least, she would not go home alone tonight.

She weaved a bit in traffic before stopping at the last bar on the outskirts of town. It was as dead inside as she was and she almost left then and there. She didn’t though, ordering some drinks. She waved off a few men but then one got her attention, but not by throwing a cheesy one-liner at her. No. He walked behind her and tugged her hair up to look up at him. He was at least a foot taller than her and looked straight down at her chest. He gripped her neck and told the bartender to give them a couple shots, his hand never leaving her.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” he said as he downed the shot, “and got a feeling I won’t again.” He then offered her the other shot and when she hesitated, squeezed her neck and whispered, “Take it.”

She nodded, drinking it, already feeling dizzy from hitting so many bars. He leaned into her and kissed her hard, not letting her pull away. She felt his hand at her crotch and tried to push it away, but he grabbed her hand, all but crushing it in his. Her eyes watered as he pulled back.

“This is going to happen. You can ride along and enjoy it the best you can, or I can leave your body in the fucking dumpster. I really don’t care.”