Erotic Fiction by Medea

Consent

	"How about repairman and housewife?  Or pirate and nun?"
	He laughed.  "It doesn't say that."
	"No, really, it does.  Or mechanic and opera star?" She turned the 
page and started giggling.  "Nympho and nerdy teenager.  Hey, that's not much 
of a stretch."  He gave her a look somewhere between smirk and glare.
	"I'm quite grateful to be past my teenage years.  Ugh, high school."
	"Yeah, but you're still a nerd.  Why do you think I love you so much?"
	"C'mere, nymph, and let me kiss you."  She got up out of her chair to 
sit beside him on the couch, grinning almost too much to properly kiss.
	A few minutes later, he asked, "So why did you buy something called 
_Exhibitionism for the Shy_?  Shyness has never been your problem."
	"The appendices are pretty entertaining, you have to admit."
	"That can't be all, though."
	"I thought it might have some fun ideas.  Maybe it's a little silly, 
but I've always wanted to try that kind of role play."
	"Hmm.  And what role would you pick?"
	She looked up at him, reluctant to say what she was thinking.  "I'm 
not sure I should tell you."
	"The woman who wouldn't hesitate to tell me to give it to her harder 
is actually inhibited about something?"
	She blushed.  "I know, but... I've never told anyone about this kind 
of fantasy.  It's not the sort of thing I feel comfortable wanting."
	He hugged her closer.  "Hon, it's okay.  You don't have to tell me.  
It might be something I'd be willing to try, though.  I won't be able to say 
unless I know what you're thinking about."
	She was silent while she considered it.  "I fantasize, sometimes, that 
I'm tied up and raped and beaten, that a man just comes out of the shadows and 
takes me.  And I feel sick about it, because I know that's a real experience 
for women out there, and there's nothing enjoyable about it for them, but at 
the same time, it really turns me on."
	"I'm sure there are other women who fantasize about that kind of 
thing.  A fantasy isn't the same as wanting the real-life version."
	"You don't think it's sick?"
	"I understand why you're uncomfortable about it...  But I think what 
you're talking about wanting to do is different than real rape.  I don't think 
consensually pretending to do something nonconsensual is wrong."
	"You're willing to try it?"
	"I'm not sure yet.  If I do, I want to be able to do it well, and this 
isn't exactly an area I'm familiar with.  I'll have to think about it for a 
day or two."
	"If you decide it's okay... Don't ask me.  Just pick a day and do it."
	The next few weeks she waited to see if anything would happen.  She 
half expected him to tell her there was just no way, but he didn't mention the 
conversation at all.  They tried out some of the different games in the book, 
playing 'call girl and customer' and trying to keep a straight face while 
reading off the list of dirty phrases in the back.  And then, one evening when 
she wasn't thinking about anything at all but wanting to get out of her work 
clothes and take a long bath, she opened the door to her apartment, and 
someone grabbed her and yanked her inside before she could reach the light 
switch.
	His hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream, and in a 
half-growl half-whisper, he said, "Don't make a sound.  You'll regret it."
	Rather than being reassuring, hearing his voice only made her tense up 
more.  It was her husband, she was sure of it, but the tone of voice made it 
seem like like he had become someone she couldn't recognize.
	Roughly, he pushed her face-first against the wall, grabbing her arms 
to tie her wrists behind her back.  Next, he blindfolded her with a piece of 
thick fabric, blocking out what little light there was in the room.
	He dragged her into the bedroom and shoved her onto the bed, yanked 
her shoes off, and then pulled her upright to rip open her jacket and blouse, 
leaving them hanging from her arms, binding her further.  He unzipped her 
skirt and stripped it from her roughly, causing her to fall awkwardly back 
onto her arms.  She was genuinely starting to feel scared, and tired and 
hungry enough to wonder if she made the right decision, telling him about her 
fantasy.  Was this what she wanted?
	She heard a clicking noise, and then something cold and hard touched 
her leg as he slashed her pantyhose with a box knife.  Next he cut away her 
underwear, followed by her bra.  Then he flipped her over onto her stomach, 
lying across the bed.  Her head hung down with the edge of the mattress 
pressing against her throat.
	She heard his footsteps leaving the room, and for a few minutes it was 
silent except for her shaky breathing.  She attempted to calm herself, but her 
arms were starting to fall asleep, and she found it difficult to focus on 
anything else.  He returned, walking quickly, and before she could react, he 
struck her bare ass with something hard.  She bit her tongue to keep from 
screaming.  He hit her again, and more and more, not quite falling into any 
rhythm she could predict.  It hurt like fire, and she wanted to yell, wanted 
to tell him to stop, tell him to let her go.
	When he finally stopped, he walked around the bed and crouched down to 
speak to her.  "I'm going to untie your arms now.  You will not move unless I 
tell you.  Do you understand?"
	"Yes," she whispered.
	He stood, and reached across her body to free her arms, removing the 
clothing bunched there as well.  "Do you know what I'm going to do now?"
	She was silent.
	He bent down in front of her again and slapped her across the face.  
"Answer me."
	"I don't know."
	He slapped her again.
	"Tell me what I'm going to do."
	"I told you, I don't know," she cried.
	"I'm going to fuck you, and it's going to hurt, and you'll like it 
anyhow," he growled.
	He stripped off his pants, and then climbed on the bed.  "Turn over 
onto your back."
	Slowly, she complied, wincing from the pins and needles in her arms, 
still recovering from the way they were bound.  He climbed onto the bed beside 
her, and began stroking his cock, getting it hard.  When he was ready, he 
mounted her, slamming into her with barely any pause.  To her surprise, she 
was already wet, and he entered her easily.  He placed his hands on her 
breasts, digging his fingers into them roughly, pushing down to hold himself 
up.  She expected this to be end quickly, he couldn't last long, could he?  
She was wrong, though, he continued to screw her, and uncomfortable as it was, 
he was right, she liked it.  He gripped her breasts tighter, and finally all 
of the pain and fear and arousal came pouring out of her, and she cried as he 
fucked her raw.
	When it was over, he lay there and held her as she continued to sob
 in his arms.