Rape scares me - consensual nonconsent, though? Horrible turn on, one I probably shouldn’t have. My legs shouldn’t quiver at the idea of you pushing me up against the wall and taking me, forcing me to do everything your mind craves, without me saying a word. Then again, maybe they should, because they tremble at the thought. When I told you about my ‘rape fantasy’ - you smiled, didn’t say anything about it, so I let it go. Maybe it was as strange as I thought it was…
A few weeks later, I was sleeping - soundly, mind you, despite the fact you were working late, and I hate the bed when you’re not in it. The sound of the door opening doesn’t wake me up anymore, because I know you’re the only one that has a key. The sound of footsteps up the stairs doesn’t startle me, because I know yours so well - and even the press of your knee onto the side of the bed doesn’t make me jump, because I know your weight.
All these things I knew didn’t matter - because when your hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me from the bed, my heart sunk. I let out a scream, my arms flailing pointlessly, because within moments you had me pinned to the wall so roughly it knocked the wind out of me. I knew it was you, I could smell you, feel you - I know you. But something in my head just - refused to let that by, refused to know that I was safe; so my lungs hitched, my body trembled, and you held my throat so tightly my face was flushing red.
Without much effort, you spun me around, used your belt to tie my hands - I was still struggling; not as fully as I could be, thrashing and whining, begging and crying; but, no kicking, because the back of my head screamed - DON’T HURT DADDY. Because - I knew… At least, I was SURE of it.
There was a pang of guilt in my stomach, worried that maybe it wasn’t you - and knowing that deep beyond that fear, I was enjoying it far too much, my panties already drenched; despite the fact the fear was driving, my pleasure was in the back seat screaming are we there yet.
When my hands were secure, and my face was pressed hard to the white wall, your hands started to trail. “If you move, you’ll regret it.” your voice low - your voice, I knew it was yours, but it still sent shivers through my spine. I didn’t even nod, because I knew better; but my jaw clenched so tight my head ached, my knuckles balled into fists so hard my hands lost color; all while yours were trailing down my bare back to run across the black fabric of my panties, diving between my legs.
I could hear you smile. “Oh, little slut is enjoying this.” you laugh lightly - you knew I would, that’s just not fair. I can’t help but whimper; which brings your hand back up to my neck while you lean in, huffing words hot on my flesh. “Don’t make any fucking noise.” despite knowing it’s your voice, it’s one that scares me into place. Your fingers drop back to rub me slowly through those lacy little things that you quickly get frustrated with, yanking them away and tossing them aside.
It’s not long before curious, rough fingers push into me, forcing a loud whine from my lips - one I try and swallow, but it refuses to be contained. You ignore it, because it’s what you want, you want those sounds, you crave them. So your fingers move faster, harder, coaxing more yelps and whimpers out of your girl, even a couple of low moans fall slowly - and then a louder one.
I don’t even know what happened then, honestly, but I’m on the floor, under you. One hand on my neck, the other smacking roughly against my wet cheek, pulling more tears from my eyes. “I said no sounds.” your hand drops, tugging yourself free of those cruel jeans that confine you - there’s no teasing, you just force your way into me. The hand on my neck moves, your fingers stuff themselves into my throat, making me gag.
Rough, violent, fast paced - fucking. Your body moves so fervently against mine that I can already feel the bruises forming at my hips, my thighs; tears streaming hot down my face, coughing every so often at the wiggle of your fingers. I can’t help but moan, which just pushes those digits against the spots that make me gag. “You better cum for me, you little slut." - how can I not? As soon as you say it, I shudder and shake, moan and slightly hate the fact that I enjoy this so much that my muscles betray me, wrap tighter around you, forcing you over your own edge.
When it’s over and done with, you leave me there, on the floor, shivering and shaking, shuddering, crying, bruised and coated in cum. I don’t bother to get up when you leave the room - my body is too weak, if I tried to stand on the noodles I call legs, I’d fall back down.
A few moments of silence pass and you come back in, flicking on the light, smiling down at me while drawing a towel along your body. No showers, you want to let the scent of us linger on our forms, so we fall asleep able to think of nothing but that moment. Suddenly delicate hands move along my body, undoing the belt and tossing it aside, yanking me up and wrapping arms around me. "Good girl.” you whisper, there’s no need for anything else.
Now, laying in bed, my body, still shivering, pressed flush to yours, you hold me tight, placing a soft kiss behind my ear, huffing something sweet. “Thank you, Daddy.” I manage - the first words in a while. You don’t say a thing, just smile, proud of yourself, and your little princess.
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