Chapter 1

When it comes to sex, there's never enough. Not enough foreplay, it doesn't last long enough, her pussy was too loose for you to feel anything, his dick will only get hard while he's watching porn so it's him, you, and youporn.com every night. She won't let you fuck her in the ass, he won't let you stick your finger up his ass. The list, unfortunately, is neverending.

Every once in a while you find a sexual partner who fufills most of your desires. Even then, how long does that actually last? The sex is great at first, but then you have to start switching it up. Maybe bring in a few toys, watch a dirty film together, even invite another person into your bedroom. For most of us those are our only options. Personally, I've given up the idea that I will ever be compatible with anyone sexually, because inside of all of us lives a little pervert dying to get out. If you meet someone you really like, even love maybe, there's a slim chance you're going to allow that person to meet your little pervert.

And then I met Vixen. I've changed her name of course. I've known her for many years, and after a lot of fucked up shennanigans and a lot more cocaine, she finally shared her story with me. And while highly unbelievable, everything in this story is true, straight from her sinfully seductive mouth to my fingers.

I've always been, for lack of a better term, a dirty little whore. I can remember sneaking into my father's bathroom and stealing his Penthouses and reading the stories while I was locked in my closet. I'd prop the book up so I could read it while rolling over on my stomach and pumping my hands onto my clit until I came. My favorites were naughty neighbor, cheating wife caught by husband, and of course the ever popular babysitter does Daddy. Your every day consensual sex story has never done it for me. I like the thrill of doing something you're not supposed to. Maybe that has something to do with my history of ruined relationships, who knows? And to be completely honest, who cares? I'm the woman who will suck your best friend's dick while you're at work, and kiss you on the mouth when you come home. I'm the assistant who will come to your house to drop off paperwork and ride you until we both cum all over your wife's expensive duvet. Chances are, if I'm not supposed to do it, I probably already have ... twice.

Now ... cheating on my boyfriend, sleeping with someone's husband, dressing up in a little plaid skirt and playing naughty little school girl are all delightful ways to pass the time. But after being so bad for so long, I began to tire of it. I was single at the time, and even though I would meet an occasional man off the internet for no strings attached sex, I was still clicking my own mouse on a regular basis. But something was keeping me from that ultimate orgasm. You know, the kind where your toes go numb and it's hard to breathe afterwards? I wanted my climax back. Usually the key to cumming, for me at least, is having a good picture in my head of what I'd like be doing, or what I'd like to be watching other people do. This was around the time that all of the free porn sites began popping up so I gave it a try. Watching anal porn, especially virgin anal, held me over for a while. Something about seeing a fat, hard, cock force it's way into a tight virgin asshole makes my pussy throb in ways I can't explain. The more I watched, the more I began to notice that it was the most unlikely parts of the video that would make me cum. If the girl was crying, or making painful noises while the man was ass fucking her, I would cum almost immediately. Or if the man in the film was talking to her like she was the filthiest fucking bitch alive, "Yea you like that you fucking whore, you like daddy's dick in your tight ass."

I may have noticed my slight inclination towards the rougher version of anal porn, but I dismissed it as my simply having a dry spell, and that my desires would return to normal once I had found a proper mate.

So without much effort I found one. A man almost twice my age at 41. He was married, had kids, and was my supervisor at work. The set-up was perfect. He missed having his dick sucked, I needed someone I could easily manipulate, which is true of all married men. Like all things human, at first it was great. We would fuck in his house, all over their furniture. I left pieces of me all over her house, hoping maybe one day she'd smell me somewhere and know in her heart that when he stroked his cock in the shower it was me he was thinking of. He was a simpleton, easily persuaded to do whatever I needed him to. I began to push him sexually, try to get him to be rough with me, to call me names while he fucked me, to pull my hair, to choke me, to let me choke him, etc. I loved it when he would be inside me and tell me how much he wanted to fuck another woman while I watched. He went with the flow for a while, but I could tell he would have limitations. Looking down the road I knew at some point he would be uncomfortable with my brutal sexual needs and resort to scheduled sex with his fat wife. I let him go.

Then it was back to the one woman show. The only problem seemed to be, now even anal porn wasn't doing it for me. Same porn, same vibrator, same clit ... no results. In the back of my head I pulled out this vile idea of sexual pleasure and googled it. Rape.

The idea of watching a woman struggle for mercy while her attacker strips her of her clothes and her purity fascinated me. I joined a rape fanatic website, downloaded their videos and went to town. I watched one after the other, struggling to find the perfect combination. I didn't necessarily want it to be real, but I wanted it to look real. I didn't want people speaking German, I wanted to hear her scream "Please no." in English. Tied up was fine, but it was much better when she finally submitted and gave in to his every whim. I wanted to see that look in her eyes, that moment of acceptance when she realized that this was going to happen, no matter how much she begged. No one was coming to save her, this man was going to take her, and have her in every way he wanted.

But this fetish didn't last as long as the others. It didn't hold me over for and extended period of time. I got more aggressive with my fetish, posting online asking to meet a man who wished to indulge in a rape fantasy. I met three men, each boasting they could more than fill this animalistic desire I couldn't rid my mind of. None of them came anywhere near my expectations. I don't think it was so much the man's fault, but while I was playing the victim I was missing a vital part of the excitement ... watching.

In essence ... I didn't want to be raped. I wanted to watch.

And then I met him, Mr. X. A 30 year old ex-con with tattoos from head to toe, taut muscles that rippled through his smooth physique, and green eyes that looked right through me. He approached me at a gas station while I was filling up my car. I had my hand on the pump ready to finish, when he walked up slowly and placed his hand on mine.

"I got out of lock-up three weeks ago, but I've been waiting for you. Put the pump up, get in the car, and take me to your house." he spoke, making sure to never lose eye contact with me.

My insides shook and I shakingly placed the pump back in its holster. I tried to stammer "I don't..." but he stopped me with a finger to my lips. He stroked my cheek with the tips of his fingers and said "This is all the persuasion you will need..." He grabbed my right hand and placed it on his stomach, then slowly ran my hand down his pant leg. As if I had lost complete self control I gently squeezed the outline of his semi-hard dick. He leaned close and whispered "Let me show you how a real man rides."

My hand dropped and he smiled as he made his way to the passenger seat of my car. Mr. X had given me my orders, and the moist warmth in my panties was enough to forgo all sane thoughts at this moment, and I knew I would do my best to obey.

The car ride to my house was filled with tension, both sexual and fearful. I knew my life could very well be at stake. Who in their right mind brings home a perfect stranger, much less one who was recently released from prison? In my head I am thinking "Oh Jesus I'd better call someone and let them know what's going on in case I end up dead." Sadly, my head was simply vetoed by a combination of my swollen cunt, and his enormous cock. I asked myself "How does a real man ride, what does that even mean?" His vague conversation and quiet mannerisms made me question the validity of his promise. The only thing I knew for sure was I wanted him to fuck me until my pussy fell off.

When we arrived to my abode he followed me in from a distance, as if he could tell I was on the fence about his intentions. I offered him something to drink, he declined. I stood in my kitchen, looking towards his direction but not in his eyes. He leaned against my hallway door, staring at me but I refused to catch his gaze. It was too powerful. Never in my life had I met someone who could make me submit. I was always the one initiating, always in control. This man not ten feet away from me obviously had some sort of power over me that both excited and confused me. I knew if I looked into his eyes I would have no control over myself any longer, and I wasn't ready to give that up.