6 months earlier
Check this out. You’re going to love it. She sounds fucking amazing.
I stared at the link attached to the message, and I got this feeling before I clicked it. An intense throb in my chest that wouldn’t go away, especially not after I followed the message into a part of the web I wasn’t very familiar with.
It had only been a few weeks since I’d started exploring. There had always been something there, deep inside me. Something lurking in the darkest corners, just waiting for the right moment to break free. I’d embraced my darkness my whole life, but not to this extent. I’d had girls on their knees, with whip marks on their backs, with their asses turned black and blue from my hands and my belt. But not like this. Never like this.
The title of her post was simple. I stared at it for the long time, looking at her username.
I’m going to make you rape me, by alittledoll.
Several minutes passed before I finally clicked on the voice clip attached to her post. Her moans filled the room. Hot, needy, so fucking desperate she had me rock hard the second I heard her whimper. She sounded unbelievable. I never thought the voice of a submissive girl could have so much power; such an amazing, insane impact on my body. My hips reacted to her moans, and my cock grew even harder as she cried. It took me by surprise, and I only realized halfway through the recording that my hand was jerking my dick, long stroking motions trying to get me off, so desperate to come for this filthy little vixen I didn’t even know.
I came in seconds. It wasn’t even a full minute, it couldn’t have been. And I didn’t particularly want to, either, but her sinful little voice got me off so fucking good. I blew all over my shaking fist, cum leaking through my fingers as I stroked the remains of my orgasm from my throbbing cock.
I cleaned up and stared at the recording playing out on my computer screen. She was giggling after making me come like that, laughing because the sweet little bitch knew every man who had just listened to her voice got off like never before. She fucking knew it, and she was begging us to punish her for making us come that way. She was begging for pain, begging to be hurt. It was a mind fuck if I’d ever seen one. She was making my head pound and my cock throb, and I didn’t even know what the fuck she looked like.
There was no question about it—I had to message her.
I knew she got a shit-ton of messages. The comments and views on her posts were crazy; she must’ve been flooded with unwanted dick pics. But a part of me thought she fucking loved them, so I started a message to her pretty little self anyway. I didn’t give a shit if I was one of many. I knew she’d reply to me. I knew she’d crave me the second she saw my message. She had to feel this incredible connection we had, just like I did. It was already scaring me, and I was a big, grown-ass man. I wondered what the lust I felt listening to her would do to my little doll.
I shot off a simple message and waited in my seat. There was no way to see whether she was online on the site, but I had a feeling she was one of those obsessive, needy little bitches who wanted attention all the time. I had no doubt that she checked her messages every second of every day, unless she was sleeping. I knew I’d have a reply back in a couple of minutes, and I was fucking looking forward to it.
I opened my message again, re-reading what I’d just sent her.
I could be anywhere right now. I could be so very close to you, just a short drive. Maybe I need to make an excuse and pay you a visit. You talk about wanting me to come to your apartment. Unannounced. Forcing you. Taking what I want from you. Maybe I should make it happen. See whether or not it was all talk, how you would really like it if I snuck in, clamped a hand over your mouth, slapped you dizzy and raped that pretty little pussy, leaving you with a womb full of my cum.
As I was reading it, I saw my own reflection in the computer screen. My hair was messy from having just woken up. Light brown, with a smattering of gray throughout it. I was wearing a simple vest top with tattoos over my forearms—the only decoration on my tanned skin. I knew I was handsome, but I hid my dirty, dark side very well. It was a prerequisite for the job I had. There was no fucking kinkiness in banking, that was for damn sure.
While I was looking at myself, I saw I’d received a message back. A grin was plastered on my face as I checked what she’d written.
You’re scaring me.
Fuck. All those audios, all that talk, and she was scared already. I wrote back.
You should be scared, little doll. Tell me you’ll beg for me to use you.
Please, I don’t want to.
Then why are you replying to me?
I got a feeling about you.
What feeling?
You’re going to be so bad for me.
That’s not a good reason to reply, little doll.
You still there?
Yeah.
You want this.
You want to be used like a little fuckdoll. You want to be raped and fucked in public while everyone watches, don’t you?
Yes.
I’ll help you, little doll. Will you let me?
Yes.
I got this fucking feeling in the pit of my stomach. A rumble, a tense, tight sensation that made me think this girl might actually be exactly what my depraved mind wanted.
I’d never really unleashed my true personality on anyone. I’d had girls who liked playing rough before. Nasty, needy little girls who let me do anything to them, much younger than me too. But I never had anyone like her. Never a girl who tapped into the darkest part of my mind and begged me to unleash all the monsters that lurked in the darkness. I never had a girl who was as desperate for that depravity as I was. And I wanted to use her. I wanted to make her submit. I wanted to see what her limits were and if they went as far as my own did.
We exchanged more and more messages. I asked her about herself, questions she carefully evaded. She offered a tidbit of information here and there, offering a piece of herself, and I felt like a kid being teased with candy. She was giving me small pieces but I wanted the whole fucking pie. I wanted all of her. Wanted to consume her. I wanted to fucking own her.
The intensity of my lust for her never faded as we chatted more. I found myself so overtaken by the immediate need to feel her, to be inside her, I couldn’t focus on anything else. She’d claimed my mind and my dick in only a few minutes.
She was mesmerizing, and I was becoming addicted. I knew I was moving too fast, and I knew I’d probably scare her off, but I needed so… Much. More.
Tell me your name.
I don’t want to.
Tell me your fucking name, doll.
It’s Cleo…
That’s beautiful. You know I’m not going to use it until you’re a dripping, shaky little mess for me? I’ll only use it to remind you that you’re human after you’re so spent, you feel like a happy little fucktoy for my dick.
Fuck, stop, please. Too much.
Not too much. Just enough, little doll.
Will you talk to me again?
What do you mean?
This… this isn’t just a one-time thing, right? You’ll be here tomorrow.
And the day after.
And the day after?
Until you get sick of me.
I won’t…
And then some more, because I know you need to be forced, pretty little thing.
I have to go to work. Message me later?
Take your phone with you so we can talk.
Ok…
I thought about her slipping into a pretty summer dress, her panties getting a visible wet spot as she made her way to work. I thought about her juices dripping down her legs as she made her way to town, holding the bus rail and thinking about me forcing myself on her. She played the role of an innocent little girl but she was really anything but. She was perfect. So slutty, dirty and depraved but still so innocent, still so perfectly moldable. I was going to make the perfect little toy out of her. I was finally going to get what my cock wanted all along. She was so, so perfect.
She messaged me from her station. She worked in some sort of shop, but she wouldn’t tell me more. She even sent me a picture.
A cloudy day outside, humid and hot as hell. I caught a glimpse of her long, pale leg as she rode the bus to work, just like I predicted. Her nails were a pretty shade of pink holding onto the rail. I even recognized the bus. I used to take a very similar one to work daily before I made it big. I still remembered the scratchy fabric of its seats, the pattern reminding me of something psychedelic.
No tan for you, little doll?
No. I never get away for long enough to get one.
You need a vacation?
I need you inside me.
Fuck! My cock twitched at her words.
That could be arranged, slut… you just have to beg real pretty to convince me.
Would you listen to me beg for you?
My cock stiffened at the thought of her doing just that.
You want to record an audio for me?
No…
My mind was racing.
You want to hear me?
Now?
Not now, maybe sometime later…
Now or never, little doll. Get to your bathroom, get fucking ready for me. I’ll call you. Give me your number.
No reply for several excruciatingly long minutes. And then finally, another message. Her number.
I was fucking glad it was my day off. Otherwise I would’ve blown my load for her in my fucking office, not giving a shit if anyone saw it.
I dialed her number and listened to the monotonous ringing. She didn’t pick up for the longest time, and when she finally did, her sweet voice came in in breathy, desperate little moans.
“Hello?” she said softly, just one little word along with a soft little gasp from those perfect lips.
I couldn’t say a word, and she moaned in protest when I remained quiet.
“Please,” she begged. “Please talk to me, I need to hear you…”
“Where are you?” I asked her roughly, and she yelped when she heard me. I could almost feel how turned on she was. I wanted her on my fingers. I wanted her to rub herself on my hand with the force of her own hips until she came all over my fingers, never breaking eye contact.
“In-in the bathroom,” she breathed.
“Are you going to play for me?” I growled, and she gasped again.
“Play now?” she asked softly.
“Right now,” I said. My voice was making her groan, and I could almost picture those little fingers I’d seen gripping the railing in that bus. Long, pale, with pretty candy floss pink nails. God, she was fucking perfect.
“I’ll play,” she said. “Just hurry, I don’t want someone to catch me…”
“Taste yourself,” I ordered her, and she gasped again. “Fucking now, doll. Tell me if your fingers taste as sweet as I imagine they do…”