Would you believe I've actually gotten e-mail asking me if this really happened to me?


Dawn's Doom: Fufillment


By: Imma Scared

You think you've read this story before. "Doctor charged with sexual abuse", "Dentist drugs female patients, and rapes them", blah blah blah.....that sounds cold, I know, but I think I would have had Dr. J. actually physically assault me, no, I know I would have preferred that, than to have plan, plot, and carry out the evil that he did to me.

I had been seeing Dr. J for about 18 months, and I had grown to fully trust him. Once or twice, I would have sworn he had made a pass at me, but I never was sure. I thought he was attractive, standing at 5'9, luxurious brown hair that fell softly to his collar, and steel gray eyes that were softened by gold framed glasses, and his strange way of speaking, as if he learned English as a second language. Up until the month before what I can only call "The Betrayal", if someone has asked for me to choose between having Dr. J as my therapist, and being able to date him, I'd have chosen dating him.

As I said, I trusted Dr. J, and when the strange sexual fantasies started becoming almost obsessive I trusted he could help me.

"We never talked about your sex life before, have we Dawn? I wonder why that is?" Blushing, I answered, "I guess I really haven't had one in the last two years."

"And why do you think that is?"

I thought hard. How was it that I had managed not to date in the last two years? The answer seemed simple enough, "I guess my mother's morals are rooted deeper in me than I ever thought. I 'm just not comfortable with causal sex, and it's hard to date a guy without "putting out"

Dr. J leaned over and refilled by coffee cup. "And you disapprove of casual sex"?

I laughed nervously, "Just for me, Dr., J, just for me."

Dr. J looked at me for a long time, the silence sexed to go on forever. "So now you have these sexual fantasies. Big strong men, overpowering you, forcing you to relieve the hardness of their strong manhood." He looked at his notes. "How did you put it? AH here it is, you say in one fantasy that they punish and pound your pussy, brutally plunging powerful piston like cocks in and out of your helpless pussy." Was that imagination, or did I hear a note of relish in his voice as he said that? "This is what you said? And you also dream this unwilling at night?" "Yes," I said, "the fantasies coming out of me are weird enough, but the dreams, oh the dreams frightening!" "Tell me again, Dawn, why the dreams frighten you so."

"Well it's more of what I feel when I wake from the dreams. I have this almost overwhelming urge to get up, throw on a dress and no underwear, and walk the fours block to the "redneck/biker bar I told you about. Its almost all I can do to resist the urge"

"Yes, Dawn, a pretty girl like you in a bar like that so late at nite....such men are not known for controlling they're urges. They are men from the old days, I would call them warrior types, used to taking what they want. And I think they would want you. They could almost smell your , shall I say horniess, and your helplessness." I trembled, what he said both aroused and terrified me. "It is too bad that these warrior types are in the minority now, but I digress.

"We must see if we can keep you safe, Dawn. I want you to keep a log fantasies and of your dreams. Be very, very, detailed. I want to monitor you, and hopefully, find out what triggers these fantasies and dreams. Then we may be able to work out a way to cure you of them."

He stood up, signalling that our session was over. "When you come back nexy week, I've been meaning to ask you before, please bring me a photo of you for your file, perhaps you could take it in that pretty pink dress you are wearing."

II

The next week I dutifully brought the photo, and the logs as he has instructed. He took the picture, looked at, smiled and said, "I hope you don't mind me saying this. as I am your doctor, but you are very pretty, very pretty indeed." His words surprised me. Being 5' 7,small breasted, with my wild unruly curly black hair, and hazel eyes, cute might have fit, but I felt pretty was a stretch. But I said nothing, just smiled as Dr. j put the photo in my file.

To my surprise we did not talk about the logs, my sexual fantasies, or my dreams. Not that week, nor for the next three weeks, tho each week I dutifully brought in the logs.

On the fifth week, Dr. J started the session by saying, "Dawn, I think I understand what needs to be done for you. I wish to be clear on some things. I notice in most of your fantasies and your dreams, you are very descriptive of the types of men involved, Yes?" I nodded.

"The men they are all taller than you, you say they are 6 feet? Could some perhaps be say only 5'10?" "Well, yes, but the central character is always towering over me, and so I guess that would be at least 6 feet." Dr. J scribbled rapidly on something in my folder.

"I am intrigued by some of the other details. Rough men. Macho men. Cruel looking men. Many bald. None are skinny. Is this right? They are well muscled, or heavy or even fat?"

"Yes."

"Powerful men who overpower you. You are helpless to resist these men. These men are true warriors, the Romans may have called them barbarians.", he sighed. "Yes, Dawn, the solution to this barrage of unwanted dreams and urges, and fantasies is clear to me. You trust me?"

"Absolutely", I said puzzled.

"I assure you Dawn, that in a very short period of time, you will see the solution I have for you at work!!

III

Well, he did see to it that my dreams and fantasies didn't worry me any more. He didn't lie about that! I just never will understand, maybe it was his sympathy for the those men, those types of men he called "true warriors"? Perhaps he wanted to be one of them. Whatever his motivation, his solution was the end of life as I knew it.

Dr. J had taken the photo of me in that pink sundress, that showed my long legs so well, and copied it many times over. He took the logs I so carefully kept, and had them typed and copied. He attached my photo, my address, my phone number to each log, and he went to that red neck/biker bat just a few blocks from me, and he gave every man there a copy. He found other places where his "warriors" could be found and saw to it that also received the "Dawn" file.

The nite he went to the redneck/biker bar, he called me first, and for his own sick reasons, gave me a hint of what was to come.

"Dawn, in you many dreams and fantasies, you never had more than 10 men after your pussy. Can you imagine what it will be like to have hundreds, looking to track you down? Women were meant to serve men, to open their legs to so that men may have their fill of pleasure. That's why you had those dreams, my dear, you knew what you have been made for! And now you shall live the life you were made for."

I thought he had gone mad, what he said made no sense, and yet I had a terrible feeling that I I knew precisely what he meant.

What can I say about that first nite? You may have read about the woman who disappearance was so strange. Neighbors reported how a drunken gang of men broke my door down, and carried me off, leaving all that I owned behind. You may have read, and then forgot as other stories made the headlines........... III

My Masters have allowed me to post this much of my story on the Internet, as a warning to women and as a kind of call to men. They say that all men have a right to all the pussy they want, and men must take what is not willingly given.

My masters tell me I may not tell you of my first nite yet. They invite you to tell me how you would have treated me that nite, helpless, naked, and terrified in your hands, for your cocks pleasure? How many friends would you have invited to share in your new property?

My Masters remind me to tell you that I am valuable property, I must not be beaten unless I disobey (which I will try my utmost not to do), nor may I be fisted, or tortured.

My Masters say they wait eagerly for your responses.


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