(Contains public, very dubious (practically rape) sex.)
So, one of my biggest kinks that I've wanted to indulge more and more in is public sex. What started with reading stories and watching videos has turned into going to a nearby public park and fingering myself in the bathroom stalls, pulling my tits out for anyone to see while driving cross state, and even keeping a vibrator in my pussy while I pick up groceries.
But, like, what if I get so desperate to satiate my horniness with this kink that I decide to try something a little more…risky. So, on a weekend off, I decide to take a public train around the city for a couple hours wearing a short skirt and cropped tank top. Wearing such things isn't anything out of the norm for me, but what makes this time different is that I choose not to wear a bra or panties.
I'm a virgin, and don't actually have any real desire to be fucked irl. But, the adrenaline that comes from pushing the limits, the guilty pleasure that comes from testing what I can get away with? That is a high I've begun to chase more and more.
So, the weekend comes, and I hop on the train. I decide to stay on it until it's looped back around to where I started, which generally takes about 2 hours. My pussy is already a little wet from being panty-less in public, and I keep nervously pulling my skirt down, uncertain if it's flipped up at any point and shown off my indecency. My tank top isn't the thickest material either, and I can tell my nipples are hardening underneath it. I look down and sure enough, I can see their outline through the fabric.
I look around nervously, but no one really seems to be paying me any attention. There's not too many people on the train right then, so I take one of the empty seats close to the door. I almost jump up as my pussy makes direct contact with the cold surface below it. Trying not to moan, I start to grind my cunt against the seat as subtly as possible
An hour later, I still haven't cum, but the spot beneath me has grown slippery with the amount of wet dripping out of me. So far nothing much of note has happened, though there had been a couple of points where I could feel people (mostly men) leering at me, staring at my clearly pebbled nipples that are poking out through my shirt.
I wait for a moment when there's less people, and when no one seems to be looking, I slowly stand up. As I do so, I can feel the slick from my pussy practically connecting me to the seat. I look back at the seat to see what the damage is, and my eyes widen in fear as I see a small puddle of glistening, somewhat clear substance clearly visible. I quickly bend down a bit to try to wipe the wetness on the underside of my skirt.
Though I'm not entirely successful, I manage to get the majority of the mess wiped up, and quickly glance around to see if anyone noticed. A shiver races up me as my eyes meet another pair across from me. There's a middle aged man who has been sitting there reading a book for about 10 minutes, and now he's staring directly at me, his mouth slowly curling up in a smirk. I quickly look away, and stand next to one of the metal poles on the sides of the doors. I glance back towards the man, and sigh in relief as I see his attention has returned to his book.
I had thought that he…well…I suppose not. I frown, thinking I should feel relief that no one had noticed, and yet I can't help but feel mostly disappointed.
I stand there for the next few stops, daydreaming about more and more depraved things, the man slowly pushed the back of my mind. The train has started to fill up again, as we're passing by more and more of the popular stops in the city. Soon, I'm surrounded on practically all sides, pushed up against the door. I'm facing the window, trying to subtly rub my thighs together, growing wetter and wetter at the thought of being so secretly underdressed with so many people around.
All my muscles tense as I suddenly feel a hand gripping the back of my upper thigh. I look behind me and there is the man from earlier, who had smirked at me. I'm frozen as I feel the hand on my thigh slowly crawl it's way up to squeeze my bare ass fingers dipping into the space between my inner thighs and rubbing in the slickness gathered there. His other hand snakes its way to my front, cupping over one of my breasts.
I jump a little as I feel breath ghosting my ear and hear him whisper.
“Well aren't you just a lovely little slut! I saw you bending down earlier.”
I have to bite my lip from making any sounds as he starts to circle my nipple over my shirt and thumb my clit at the same time, the glide easy from the wetness still pouring out of me.
“You were already dripping back then, so prepped and ready for a good fucking. You love it don't you? You love the idea of being raped, right here on the train for everyone to see.”
As he speaks, he slips three fingers easily into my drenched pussy, thrusting them in and out. He's so close to me that I can feel the outline of his hardened cock pressing between my ass cheeks. He rocks his hips forward and begins to pinch and roll my nipples through my tank top at the same time.
At this point, I'm using one hand to cover my mouth, desperately trying not to make any noise, and the other hand pressed against the glass of the window in front of me. My eyes try to focus to see if those around us have noticed anything strange, but I can't do much more than glance around, my brain distracted by the pleasure, shame, and fear. I'm mortified, but can't help but grind my hips against the man's fingers.
I breathe a sigh of relief as his fingers leave my dripping cunt, before gasping as I feel him unzip his pants and pull his dick out.
“I'm going to fill you up so good baby slut. I'm going to rape you so hard, you're never going to forget me ”
He lifts my skirt a little and then I feel it. The head of his cock against my pussy lips. I don't even have a chance to protest before he slides home, stretching my drippy hole with the thickness of a real cock. Something I have never before experienced. I feel my eyes rolling back in pleasure, as his hands continue playing with my clit and nipples.
He whisper profanities in my ear, carrying on about how much of a whore I am for enjoying being raped, for liking being fucked in the middle of a group of strangers. And he's right. I'm terrified but almost entirely overcome by pleasure. I had never imagined losing my virginity this way, and though there's a part of me that protests everything that's happening, I'm unable to do anything about it. I'm too afraid to look around for help, thinking that people will agree with the man, and won't help even if I ask. I'm afraid of their judgement, of the things they must be saying about me.
I bite my tongue hard enough to draw a bit of blood as I start to cum, my body clenching at the thought of everyone staring at me, at the feeling of this stranger fucking me. I barely can hear him laugh at me, so caught up in the pleasure and circumstance. So, before I can even beg him not to, I feel his hips thrust irregularly and his breathing quicken, and then his cum is flooding my womb, deeper than I've had anything to before.
I'm breathing as quietly as I can, exhausted and spent, still trying my hardest not to be noticed by those around me. The man slowly pulls out of me, and I have to clench my thighs to keep cum and slick from dripping onto the floor, though some still begins to glide down my thighs.
The man tucks himself back in, and says something to me, though I can scarcely hear what he says in the aftermath of my own orgasm. He slowly turns me around so that he's the one by the door, and I have to duck my head to hide the redness that must be showing in my cheeks.
The train slows to a stop, and the doors open. Finally, my ears clear enough to hear him say, “Well, this is my stop. Thanks!” as he walks off the train like nothing happened.
They should make a desk chair with a raised section between your legs, sort of saddle shaped. That way you could keep rubbing against it all day while you were at work, letting yourself sink deeper and deeper all the time. I think you could sell it as some sort of health thing; like it's supposed to help you exercise your core or something. But also, I don't think it'd be so bad if people just started to recognize you for what you are: an object made to cum to cum its brains out.
god i wishhhhh! i would be sooo embarrassed bringing it into work, having to explain to anyone who passed by my station just what its for, watching as they clearly didn't believe my lies.
itd start with trying to be subtle about rubbing and grinding against it while talking with customers or coworkers, just slowly moving my hips and clenching my legs, trying not to be noticed. but more and more, my need to cum would make my desperation clear as day, and i wouldn't even notice my coworkers blatantly staring and laughing at me as i rode the chair.
i'd get close to no work done throughout the day, to the point where my supervisors would consider firing me, but they decided to keep me on as "employee entertainment".
I love the thought of being freeuse 24/7, doesn't matter if I'm sleeping, taking a walk in the park, grocery shopping, or taking the bus.
If my pervy neighbour catches me humping with my curtains open, he can break into my house, and use my sleeping holes as he likes.
If the woman on the bench decides she wants to touch my pussy she can pull me down into her lap, spread my legs and edge my tight little cunt for everyone to see.
If the man in the store wants to measure how long a cucumber is, he can just bend me over, flip my skirt and stuff it inside my cunt. He can even make me hold it all the way to his house if he likes.
If the bus gets delayed and the passengers want to take their frustrations out on me, they can easily pin me down and use me like the filthy little cum dump I am.
I just wanna be useful<3 I'm such a humanitarian<3
Imagine getting oral from the monster under your bed.
Walking into your room one night, in your skimpy pjs, ready to hop into bed and go to sleep, when a hand reaches out from underneath and grabs your ankle. You shriek and try to yank away, but it holds tight, making you fall onto your ass. Another hand comes out, taking your other ankle.
It pulls you, your lower half disappearing under the bed, but thankfully, your torso is too big, and you can’t be pulled under any further. No matter, the monster can work with this. You feel your bottoms being ripped away, then your panties. Soon, your bare cunt is on display for whatever is lurking in the darkness.
You want to cry out, but as you part your lips, your legs are spread and a warm, wet tongue presses against your folds. Your breath hitches and your face turns red as the large tongue starts to lap up and down your slit, taking time to swirl around your hardening clit.
You can’t see what’s going on under the bed, but it feels so good, too good. You close your eyes and let it happen. The monster’s tongue pushes inside you, and it’s long and thick. It snakes its way to your g-spot and starts to thrust in and out.
One of your ankles is released and a clawed thumb presses against your clit and starts rubbing in quick circles. Your hips buck, your head is thrown back, and your back arches as your cunt is tongue-fucked and clit is stimulated at the same time.
It doesn’t take long for you to cum hard, shuddering as the monster draws out your orgasm. It lets you go, but you have a feeling that this is only the beginning of a strange relationship.
After six months of leaving your window unlocked, someone finally took the bait.
You frequent some dark corners of the internet. When tumblr wasn't enough to get you wet anymore you turned to reddit, and when that stopped working you moved to 4chan. These days the sites you cum to don't even have names, their URLs are just strings of random letters and numbers. It was in one of these places that you saw the symbol.
The only identifying feature of the original poster was an off-putting avatar image of Sonic the Hedgehog's gaping asshole. The post was a single photo of the symbol, written in thick marker on a scrap of looseleaf paper. Below it, the text read: place this symbol in your window to let passersby know it's unlocked, and you're ready to be taken advantage of.
You came when you saw that symbol. (You had been touching yourself for hours at that point, but still, the symbol is what pushed you over the edge.) You saved a screenshot of the symbol, and in the nights that followed you touched yourself to it again and again, daring yourself to do it, imagining the things strangers could do to you in your sleep. When your better judgement finally caved to that insatiable need, you touched yourself again. You sat there for an hour, edging and watching that symbol in the window, until your mind felt slow and stupid with fantasies.
You did that a few more times in the following nights. But the after a week the fantasies alone weren't doing it for you anymore, and you were increasingly realizing something that probably should have been obvious from the beginning: most people aren't into the same disgusting shit you're into. The people in those ugly little corners of the web lived all over the world. What were the odds one of them would just walk past your first-floor apartment one day?
So you forgot about it. Mostly. You left it there, of course, but the more time went by the less you believed anything would ever come of it. You turned to other places to make you cum. Lately you've been getting off on posting pictures of yourself, letting strangers describe the ways they'd like to use and abuse you.
And then this morning you found three polaroid pictures placed neatly on your kitchen table.
All three pictures are of you, naked and asleep in bed. You started sleeping naked ages ago, at the advice of a tumblr post detailing how to be more of a slut. You're glad you did now, because the feeling you get looking at these pictures is like nothing you've ever felt before. It's electric, a vibration in your brain and the pit of your stomach that makes your legs wobble and your knees press together. The first picture is of your body, undisturbed, sleeping on your stomach with your ass in the air. The second is a view from the foot of your bed, your pussy pressed against the sheets and your legs open. The third is of your face, an unfamiliar hand brushing back your hair and an unfamiliar cock resting on your cheek.
Before you can even think you're falling to your knees, masturbating desperately and furiously to those pictures. When you cum it's labored, almost painful, your breath catching in your chest, your moans short and agonized. You manage to stand long enough to take the pictures to your bed, where you're able to scrape together the self-control to edge for about five minutes before you cum for a second time.
The one you can't tear yourself away from his that cock on your face. The knowledge that someone was that close to you without your knowing. Touching you. Pleasuring himself to you. When you cum for the third time, it's to the thought that he didn't rape you, as far as you can tell. That means he intends to come back.
That night you feel like a kid waiting for Santa Clause to come. You toss and turn, too excited to sleep, but terrified that he won't follow through with it if he can tell you're awake. You close your eyes and stay as still as possible. If you can't be asleep, the best you can do is appear asleep.
You wake to sunlight streaming through your window, a little surprised to realize you fell asleep at all. You can feel immediately that something is different; you've been violated, you can feel it in your clit and in your cunt. You hurry to the kitchen and find three new polaroids. The first is a close up of your pussy, already swollen and wet. The second is taken from the same angle, but this time there's a hand in frame, three fingers pushed inside you, stretching you out. The third sends a thrill up your spine. In this picture, a man with a Halloween mask pulled up to his forehead has his head buried between your legs. His face isn't visible from this angle, but it's clear he's eating you out. What really excites you, though, is the out-of-focus smudge in the corner of the shot: you're certain it's the edge of someone's finger. There was a second person in the room with you last night, holding the camera. You wonder if he was there the night before too. You wonder if anyone else has been in your room without you knowing.
When you've cum twice, you're able to think clearly enough to wonder how you managed to sleep through all this. This isn't a cock brushing your face; this is penetration, stretching, clitoral stimulation. That isn't the kind of stuff you sleep through, is it? You get off for a while imagining you really are just that much of a whore, that you can have three fingers inside you and barely notice a thing, but then you spot the cylinder in the corner of the third picture. It's a metal canister, like an oxygen tank, connected at the top to the kind of plastic mask designed to cover your mouth and nose. They drugged you. That's why you didn't wake up. They put you into a deeper sleep so they could do what they wanted with you. Your clit is getting sore at this point, but when you come to this realization you can't help but cum one more time.
In your dreams that night someone is holding you down, kissing you, shoving his tongue down your throat. You're afraid and excited and wet, and you want to scream for help but you can't remember how to speak. Someone is saying something, but the words don't mean anything to you, and the relentless sucking on your clit is making it hard to focus on anything else. You want to moan, to arch your back, to press your legs shut, but your body isn't your own. Maybe you cum. Maybe you don't. It's hard to tell.
You come to slowly, blearily. You become aware of your surroundings one thing at a time, and out of order; first you notice the wetness, then the soreness, then the sunlight behind your closed eyelids. You stretch and rub the sleep out of your eyes, but your hands come away with more than the usual eye grit on them. With a jolt you realize your face is painted with cum, and looking down you can tell that it isn't just your face. There's cum on your tits, on your stomach, even your thighs and feet, and a hand between your legs confirms its inside you too. Hands shaking, you scoop it off your thighs and stomach, trying to get as much as you can into your pussy, fingering it deeper and deeper. You must have really taken a pounding last night, because your pussy is sore and your groin feels bruised, but the feeling of that cum inside you is worth every ounce of pain. You put a few pillows under your ass, trying to keep your hips elevated, keep it from spilling out for as long as possible. You imagine it taking root in your womb, changing your body, making your breasts and belly swell with motherhood. You imagine men you've never seen coming into you home while you're asleep and hungrily drinking your milk, squeezing and sucking so you wake up with your nipples sore. You wish one of them was here to fuck the cum deeper inside you, but you make do with your fingers. This time when you cum it's different. It isn't like the first orgasm of the day. It feels like maybe the fifth time you've cum in the last few hours; barely pleasure at all, just spine-tingling, mind-numbing sensation. Is it possible to cum in your sleep? It feels like it shouldn't be allowed, but you're having trouble thinking straight...
You need to stop touching yourself. You're sore and trembly and weirdly exhausted for someone who just woke up, but you can't stop thinking about those strangers in your bedroom, the cocks that must have been in your cunt and your asshole and your mouth. Your clit throbs, begging your fingers for just one more release. You make a compromise with yourself. You put on some panties to keep too much cum from leaking out, and you go to the kitchen to look at the pictures. But there are no polaroids on the kitchen table. Just a cheap plastic USB drive with your name in permanent marker on the side.
It shouldn't be a surprise that they know your name. They've been in your house, they can obviously find your name on your mail or your computer or your driver's license. But seeing it there in unfamiliar handwriting, one more tiny violation of privacy, makes your clit throb again, as if to remind you of its presence.
The voice of your elementary school librarian echoes in your head as you retrieve your laptop and return to bed. It is profoundly stupid, she reminds you, to plug an unfamiliar drive into your computer. There's no telling what kind of malware it could contain, and that kind of access could allow hackers to take complete control of your computer. But you've already done the most profoundly stupid thing. You've done it repeatedly, in fact, and you're in deep enough now that there may not be any going back. The drive contains a single folder, also with your name on it. The folder is full of pictures and videos, hundreds of them, from different cameras and different perspectives, every angle you could possibly want from the events of last night. Men in rubber masks, too many to count, taking turns raping your lifeless body. Stuffing their cocks down your throat and laughing as you choke reflexively. Squeezing your tits, pinching and biting your nipples. Playing with your pussy, intermittently fucking it and trying to shove ever-larger objects inside it. There's a closeup video of your face as one of the men ejaculates onto it. Another of your pussy as a cock pulls out, allowing a fat glob of cum to collect just at the entrance of your unresponsive hole. The last file in the folder is a .txt file, containing a single line of text: a string of numbers and letters that you recognize.
Right there on the first page of your favorite site is a picture of you, asleep and drenched in cum. Below it is your home address, and a short note:
Found this tasty slut by accident at the above address, just noticed the rapeme in her window and figured I'd come back that night. Good pussy, and she must like what we did to her because she hasn't taken it down yet. Stop by if you're in town; we like a limp body, but I bet she'd put up a nice fight if you'd rather forgo sedatives. Just make sure to gag her lol. don't want the neighbors complaining and ruining our fun. and remember to leave her a souvenir! She especially likes polaroids ; )
By the time you've finished reading you're in a daze. Your eyes can't seem to focus on anything. Your mind can't form a coherent thought. Your clit is no longer asking for your attention; it now demands it. As you begin to pull the panties back down, you notice something: the light next to your laptop camera is on.
You place the laptop on the bed between your legs, and begin stuffing the panties into your cunt.
turnnoffyourmind
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