Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Leah goes nightclubbing (MF, MFF, F-solo, NC, DS, mild WS) Leah S.

   Warning: This story includes sexual content and depictions of
non-consensual sexual activity.  If you are potentially offended by this
sort of material or it is illegal for you to view it, please stop reading
here.

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   This is a story about non-consensual sex, and even if you have trouble
believing that a woman would really feel this way, every word is true.  The
only exception is that the name above is not my real name, for obvious
reasons.

   Let me tell you where I'm coming from first.  I have been fantasising
about being raped for years, in fact since I was thirteen (I'm now 31).  I
hit puberty at twelve and grew breasts practically overnight.  At the time
I was too young to fully appreciate the implications.  I thought it was
funny how all the boys had started staring at me, but not until a few
months later did an older girl take me aside and explain exactly what they
were thinking and what they would like to do to me if they could get me
alone.  I was appalled and spent the next few weeks wearing the baggiest,
most shapeless jumpers I could find and crossing the street whenever I saw
a boy coming, but after a couple of months of this I started to find the
idea of being held down and groped strangely attractive.  This would have
been at about the same time that I started masturbating regularly.

   Since my college years I have enjoyed non-consensual sex play with most
of my boyfriends.  I say "sex play" to discriminate from real rape.  I have
confessed my rape fantasies several times, to girlfriends or on the
Internet, and the usual reply is "well, if you want it then it's not really
rape".  Of course this is true and I understand that, although the idea of
being "raped" is very exciting for many, the reality of rape is a terrible
thing.  It's normal for girls to want it to happen to them or at least to
think about it a lot, especially during their teenage years when most girls
are prone to daydreaming, but in an actual rape situation of course things
are different.

   In fact I took self-defense classes for several months in 2002 to
protect myself from rapists and other assailants.  Not only was the class a
good way to meet people and make friends, it was good for my self esteem,
and it left me with the confidence that I was well equipped to take
appropriate action and defend myself if I ever got into a real life
situation.

   The only disadvantage of the self-defense class was that it taught me
some trained reflexes that caused problems in my sex life.  In the past,
when my boyfriend initiated a 'forced sex' fantasy scenario, I would try
and run away (though I could not usually get very far as our condo was
pretty small, and of course if we were in a car, a hotel room or a public
place I would not be able to run at all).  When he caught me, I would
struggle a bit and make it difficult for him to take my clothes off.  I
might push against him with my arms or try and hold my legs closed (I gave
up on this manoeuvre when my boyfriend of the day discovered that it was
possible to initiate anal intercourse with me even when I closed my legs
very firmly).

   However, I now knew some effective defense techniques, and I found it
difficult not to use them during sex.  This was especially the case on
Tuesday nights when I came home from self-defense class.  I would be all
sweaty and my partner found this very attractive, but after an hour of
practicing eye gouges and knee kicks it was hard to stop myself from using
these techniques on him.  On one occasion, my boyfriend had managed to get
my legs open and was kneeling between them, trying to get his penis out of
his boxers (he had a quite large penis and was having trouble freeing it
from his pants while fully erect, especially while trying to hold my hips
steady at the same time) and I reached up and finger jabbed him in the
neck. I had hoped he would respond by coming forwards and holding me down,
but actually it was quite painful for him and we had to stop.

   I was very apologetic, but inside I felt quite disappointed in him.  It
is hard to sustain a rape fantasy when you feel yourself to be stronger and
more able than the person who is supposed to be "raping" you, and you have
to hold back to avoid injuring them.  I had to masturbate myself to get my
orgasm that night, and from then on I started getting my kicks by
fantasising about a stronger lover who could easily overpower me in the
bedroom.  One of the male teachers at the self-defense center often
featured in my fantasies.  However, after a few weeks I realised that this
was an unhealthy place to be and was interfering in my relationship, so I
stopped taking the classes.  I have also stopped seeing that particular
boyfriend, however I do not regret my self-defense training as I think it
is important to have some knowledge of how to protect yourself.

   My next boyfriend, Chris, was a very sweet man but quite 'vanilla' in
the bedroom.  We had a lovely, romantic relationship which lasted for most
of a year.  For most of this time we were a 'long distance' couple, we
lived in different states, about 8 hours drive away (more like 6-7 hours
for me as I am a faster driver and don't like to stop).  We would make the
effort to see each other on weekends when neither of us was working, and
for the occasional longer vacation.  Of course, it was a bit sexually
frustrating, especially for me, as after several weeks of abstinence, I
need sex very badly and want to be made to take it.  Chris was never quite
comfortable with this.  Sometimes he didn't realise that my reluctance was
just an act, and felt hurt because I didn't seem to want sex.  Other times
he would ask questions like "are you really sure you want to be forced",
which of course is a complete mood-killer.  In other respects it was a very
good and fulfilling relationship, and I have nothing but admiration for
people who can keep up the long-distance thing for long periods of time,
but unfortunately we were not able to and we recently broke up.  We still
talk on the phone a lot.

   Anyway, after Chris, I decided I wanted a more sexually assertive and
dominating lover, and I went back on the singles scene.  This brings us to
the present day, or more accurately a few weeks ago.  I started going to
clubs two or three times a week, either by myself or with my girlfriends,
and keeping an eye out for guys.  I was especially looking for guys with
that sort of sexual presence about them.  The kind of look that shows they
will be pushy in the bedroom, or in the back seat of a car if they get the
chance.  I suppose I was aware that at the advancing age of 31, I should be
looking for a long term relationship, but I was hoping for at least a
couple of one-night stands first.

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   So I was out at a club, not one I normally go to.  I went there because
it was Wednesday, and one of my friends had told me that they have Ladies
Night on Wednesdays and it "goes off".  I wanted her to come with me, but
she said she had work to do and "she'd just get in my way".  So I drove
over after I finished work, did some dancing, had a few drinks, and checked
out the talent.

   So then at about ten o'clock I came off the dance floor and a guy caught
my eye.  He was standing by himself, not dancing, just leaning against the
wall.  He was definitely checking me out, looking me up and down in quite a
purposeful, sexual kind of way.  I thought he was a bit older than most of
the guys in the club, he had that look of a guy who knows what he wants,
and he was quite big and solidly built, just how I like.  I smiled at him
as I think I am quite a good dancer and I like to turn heads, and I have to
admit I felt a bit of a 'this could be it' thrill.

   Now I don't want to have to chase a man, I want them to come and get me.
So I looked away demurely and went off to sit down and catch my breath.  I
was very pleased about a minute later when he pulled up a chair and sat
down beside me.

   We talked for a few minutes - or we tried to talk, it was hard because
the music was so loud.  I told him my name and asked who he was but I
couldn't hear what he said.  I asked again, but he just smiled at me,
pointed at the floor to say "don't go away", and went off to the bar.

   I waited while he queued, watching the dance floor and wondering if I
would go home with him.  I was enjoying dancing and didn't want to leave
immediately, but I was also interested in sex and I'd got the impression
that he was too.  I remember thinking that I had some condoms with me so he
might not even need to take me home.

   He was taking a long time at the bar, and the next song was "Dance for
me" by Mary J.  Blige which is a favorite of mine, so I was just about to
go back on the dance floor when he popped up by my elbow.  Now I had been
expecting that he would buy me something standard like a vodka and
Seven-up, but what he actually had was four shots of tequila, two in each
hand.  He put two of them into my hands, clinked glasses with me, and
knocked back one shot, so I felt I should do the same.

   Well, I did the shot, but I just about gagged.  He seemed to think this
was funny, so I tried to explain to him that I don't normally drink
straight spirits and I never drink tequila at all.  But I don't think he
could hear me - he just grinned at me and pointed at the other shot.  I
hesitated then.  I knew that if I had much more to drink, I would probably
lose self control and be willing to do pretty much anything he told me to.
But after thinking about it, I decided that this wasn't such a bad idea
after all.  (What I didn't realise, though, was that it only seemed like a
good idea at the time because I was quite drunk already...)

   Anyway, at that stage someone coming off the dance floor bumped into me
and I spilt about half the tequila down my front, so I quickly drank the
rest before I could lose it too.  It wasn't so bad the second time.  I
don't think he'd had his second shot yet, but Mary J.  Blige was still
going so I stood up, grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the dance floor. I
really hoped that he would be a good dancer.  I like men who can dance very
well.

   We did start dancing together, and he was quite good, but after just a
few seconds someone pushed between us and we got separated.  I couldn't
seem to get back to him again.  Ten minutes later, I still hadn't found
him, they were playing some stupid Usher song and I really needed to pee.

   I edged off the dance floor and went to the rest room, but there were
lots of girls in the club so there was a long queue.  No choice - I joined
the queue and waited.

   I was still standing there a minute later, with my legs crossed, when I
felt someone take hold of my shoulders from behind.  I turned my head.  It
was a redheaded woman, and she was grasping my shoulders, gently but quite
firmly, to go up on her toes and peer over my head to see the rest room
door.  "Shit, is this the queue, honey?  What are they doing up there -
giving head?"

   I was a bit surprised that a complete stranger would just reach out and
hold me like that, but at the same time it gave me a sudden warm feeling.
Also, I thought she was quite striking.  She would have been a year or two
older than me, quite short (shorter than me even in two-inch heels),
slender but toned.  Close cropped red hair, startling green eyes, pale
skin, denim shirt and Levis with a studded leather belt.  I thought that
she was probably a lesbian or at least bisexual, but I couldn't have told
you why.

   "Hi," I said.  "Yeah, it's kinda slow.  I've been waiting a couple of
minutes already."

   "Hell, I can't wait..." She chewed her lip worriedly and then grinned.
"Come on, honey, I know a place." She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me
away.

   I caught sight of the tall guy who bought me the drinks as she towed me
towards the door.  I could see him standing up to follow us, so I waved at
him and mouthed "I'll be back", but I couldn't tell if he could hear me,
and then the bouncers were opening the door and we were outside.

   I had thought we were going to go to a McDonalds restroom or something,
so I started off towards the main street, but she said "No, this way" and
tugged me in the other direction.  We went down a side street, and then
turned off into an even narrower alley.

   By this stage I was worried, even after having had so much to drink. 
She had slipped her high heels off because of the cracks in the concrete,
and I was scared that she might step on some broken glass in the dark. 
Also, there was no one around and we were quite a way from the main road. I
could barely hear the noise from the club.  If someone came into the alley,
we might be in a self-defense situation.

   "Hey, where are we going?" I asked.

   "There, behind the trash cans," she pointed to the end of the alley. 
"I'll watch out while you go, in case anyone comes, and then you watch for
me." I hesitated for a moment and she gave me a little push.  "Go on - I'm
bursting!"

   Well, we were there now, so I thought I might as well go for it.  I
walked gingerly to the end of the street, trying not to trip in the dark.
There was an iron gate at the end of the alley, and a bunch of trash cans.
I kicked my shoes off, dropped my panties, crouched down behind the cans
with my skirt bunched around my waist, held myself steady with one hand on
the gate, and let go.

   My bladder was very full and I kept going for what felt like five
minutes, although it can't really have been that long.  I just closed my
eyes and tilted my head back blissfully and listened to the soft tinkling
sound.  I'd finished and was wondering what I could use to dab myself, when
I heard voices in the alley.

   I peered over the can lid, and saw another figure standing next to her.
It was the guy who bought me the drinks in the club.  "Damn, he followed
us," I thought, and groped for my panties, hoping he hadn't heard me
peeing. I looked up again and saw them talking.  She said something low and
urgent, and he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, and then he
half turned and I saw the glint of the knife in his hand.

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   She tried to jerk away, I think she wanted to run, but he yanked her
back by the shoulder and put the knife to her throat.  She squealed "Don't
cut me!".  He held her fast for a few seconds, then slowly put his finger
to his lips and made a 'zipping' gesture.  She nodded, eyes wide and lips
tightly closed.

   It was clear that I was going to have to do something, or else she was
going to be mugged, or worse, raped.  I started thinking about the options.
I could run and get help, or I could verbally confront the mugger, or I
could attempt to disable him.  It would be difficult since he had a knife
and I was unarmed; I might need to find an improvised weapon.

   But in fact I did...  nothing.

   Now I'd like to think that I kept still because I was afraid and didn't
know what to do.  As they told me in self-defense class, most people's
natural reaction to a dangerous situation is to freeze on the spot.  (The
important thing is to make yourself do something, anything, just to break
the trance.) But I'm ashamed to say that wasn't really the reason.  If the
truth be told, I wanted to see what would happen next.  I felt like a
voyeur, or like I was watching reality TV.  It was a strange sensation.

   He pushed her back into the shadows with one hand, still holding the
knife in the other.  I heard him growl "Get your clothes off," but she only
whimpered, and after a minute he started struggling with her buttons
himself.

   "So he is a rapist," I thought, "I've got to do something to stop him,"
but I didn't stand up or call out yet.

   It was too dark to see what he was doing, so he yanked her back into the
moonlight and kept trying.  He got the first few buttons off quite deftly,
and then he lost patience and cut the last two away with the knife.  After
that she hurried to take off her own pants, to keep the knife away.  The
jeans dropped to the ground, belt buckle clanging on the concrete. 
"Everything," he told her, and she reluctantly stripped off her skimpy lacy
black panties and her matching bra, and stood, naked and shivering.  She
was a pretty little thing, small but shapely, I found myself thinking that
she must work out a lot to keep her tummy so trim.

   Meanwhile he had dropped his own pants.  He turned towards her and I
could see his penis standing out from the thick hair at his groin.  It was
long and quite thick and fully erect.  Now I knew from self-defense class
that most rapists are actually impotent.  They want to sexually dominate a
woman, but when it comes to the crunch, they are too nervous and scared to
sustain an erection.  Well, not this guy.  He was obviously an experienced
rapist and his cock was rock hard and potent.  I could tell that he was
prepared to give her a long, hard, brutal screwing, and cum a big load
inside her or on her, and after that he'd probably be ready to do it all
over again.  I was just glad that I wasn't going to be his victim tonight,
as he had originally planned.

   He had sheathed the knife and pulled a length of twine out of his
pocket. He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around - I saw her
flinch as his bobbing cock head brushed across her buttocks.  He grabbed
her wrists and held them fast in one big, meaty hand.  She tried to
struggle, but he just gave her arms a savage tug and she stopped resisting.
He wrapped the rope around her slender wrists and tied a knot, holding one
end of the twine in his teeth.  Then he pulled a wad of cloth out of his
jacket pocket.  He turned her around again, told her to "open wide", and
pushed the ball of cloth into her mouth, then stretched a gag over her
mouth and tied it fast at the back of her head.  I could see her eyes
rolling in terror and hoped she would be able to breathe.

   He stepped back and inspected his handiwork, making sure to stay between
her and the entrance of the alley.  I doubted she would be able to run fast
with no shoes and her hands tied, but he wasn't taking any chances.  He
looked around warily, checking that no one was watching.  I held my breath
in terror and stayed very still, hoping he wouldn't see my face peeking
over the dustbins.  He stared at the bins for a moment and I thought he was
looking right at me!  Then we both heard a little gasp and a trickling
sound, as if someone had left a faucet running, and his head jerked back
around.

   It was the redhead.  She was so scared that she had lost control of
herself and started to pee.  She had turned away in shame, but both I and
the rapist could see the stream emerging from between her open pussy lips
and arching to the ground.  It splashed on the pavement, and she spread her
legs wide to keep from getting her feet and calves wet.  She must really
have needed to go, because she stood there, trembling and pissing herself,
for over a minute.

   The rapist just stood behind her and watched.  He must have been excited
by the sexual humiliation of the tied and gagged woman, because after a few
seconds he took his cock in his fist and started stroking his hand up and
down the shaft.

   Her flow slowly trickled to a stop.  She squeezed out a few last drops
and started to close her legs, but then he was on her.  He jumped up behind
her, grabbed her with one arm around her chest and the other around her
hips, and dumped her on her back, right next to the puddle of pee.  I
remember thinking it was a nice throw, though hardly difficult for a man so
much taller than her.

   In a second he was down on the ground, kneeling between her legs and
tugging them apart.  She was struggling and trying to bridge up and roll
away, but it only took him a moment to get her legs over his hips and move
forwards until their groins were together.  I could see his cock standing
up from her pubic bush.

   He pulled back and started to thrust at her.  She grunted several times
as he pushed his penis between her labia several times, trying to find the
spot.  He shifted down a bit and suddenly groaned as he found what he was
looking for.  Then all three of us let out long drawn-out moans, as he rose
up and bore down on her, pushing the full length of his cock between her
inner lips and deep into her vagina.

   "So this is it," I thought, "the rape has begun." It seemed too late to
stop it now, although in hindsight I could easily have got away while he
was busy with her.  Instead I watched.

   He screwed her with long, deep strokes.  I could not see the actual sex
very well, because her leg was in the way, but I could see him thrusting. I
could also watch her firm little tits jiggle with each stroke - her nipples
were very hard in the cool night air - and I could see her face.  Her head
was thrown back, jerking from side to side as he thrust into her, and her
eyes were closed, so that she would not have to watch this big stranger
forcibly fucking her.  I hoped she wouldn't suddenly open her eyes and see
me watching.  If she gave me away, I might be next in line for the same
treatment.

   I wondered how his penis must feel inside her.  No condom, just a bare,
hard cock.  She was little enough that he must be completely filling her up
and stretching her vaginal walls.  I had seen pre-cum drip from his penis
earlier, and I thought that this, with her own natural moisture, would be
providing some lubrication.  I found myself hoping that it wouldn't be too
easy for her.

   He held her hips and fucked her deeply for about ten minutes.  With her
hands tied there was really no way she could resist.  I held my breath and
watched.  Once or twice I shifted position as quietly as I could, as my
legs were getting stiff.

   Finally I heard him let out a long sigh, and he pulled completely out of
her.  He stood up, leaving her sprawled on the ground, legs wide open.  I
thought this might be the end, that he was afraid that someone was going to
catch them and had decided to run off.  When he had left the scene I could
emerge and help her.

   But no, I realised, this wasn't the end.  He was still hard and showed
no sign of leaving.  She had managed to get up onto her knees - difficult
with her hands tied behind her back - and started to edge away from him. 
Perhaps she still hoped to escape.  He followed a couple of steps and knelt
down behind her, throwing her shirt down on the concrete to cushion his
knees.  He grabbed her hips and pulled her back to him.  I realised that he
wasn't stopping; he just wanted to change position!

   He pushed her down to the ground with one hand.  She landed awkwardly on
one shoulder - she would have been on all fours if her hands were untied,
but as it was she was resting on her forehead.  "Open for me," he told her,
spreading her legs with his hands.  He gripped her hips with both hands,
shuffled forward and started lining up his cock to enter her from behind.
He reached around with his thumbs to spread her buttocks, big hands hooking
into her soft white skin.  She let out a muffled little squeal of fear, and
then it dawned on me what was really going on.  He was planning to sodomize
her!  I was about to see an anal rape!

   He had obviously done this before and he wasn't wasting any time.  He
just held her with her buttocks open, moved up and placed the slick head of
his cock against her anus, and pushed.  Because she was so small, he was
unable to penetrate at first.  He grunted with effort and tried to pull her
back onto him.

   I held my breath and strained my ears, and I believe I could hear the
little 'pop' of his cock entering her anus, above the sounds of his harsh
breathing and her terrified gasps.  Still crouching behind the trash cans,
I stuck one finger in my mouth to get it wet, then reached back behind
myself, put my hand up under my skirt and inside my panties, and pushed the
finger into my own anus.  My resistance also gave way after a second or two
of pushing and I felt the soft warmth of my rectum tightly grasping my
finger.  It hurt a bit since my finger wasn't very well lubricated, but not
nearly as much, I thought, as it must be hurting her.

   (A warning to the submissive women out there.  Girls, if you are
masturbating while reading this scene, then you are just as guilty as I
was. It's wrong to stand by and enjoy another's suffering.  However if you
really need to slip a finger up yourself while you are sitting at your
computer, at least use plenty of lubricant.  I have since found that it
makes the experience much more pleasant, although it does take away some of
the good rape feelings.)

   She moaned desperately into the gag as he worked his cock deeper and
deeper.  I found the sight wildly exciting.  I worked my own finger further
and further into my own buttery softness.  I had never penetrated my own
anus before and I was loving it.  If the inside of her rectum felt half as
sexy as mine did, his cock must have been in heaven.  I imagine he was also
getting turned on by her little pain sounds.

   When he couldn't go any further, he braced himself and started slowly
thrusting in and out.  I fingered myself in time with his thrusts.  It felt
good for me but it must have really hurt her as his penis was several times
the size of my finger.  I thought about putting all four fingers inside,
but decided against it.  But still, something was definitely missing, I
needed more.

   I hitched up my skirt and rested the heel of my hand on my pubic bone.
It felt good.  I explored downwards with my fingertips.  To my shame, my
genitals were wet.  I was fully aroused and ready for intercourse or
masturbation.  Yes, that was what I was doing to myself already -
masturbating myself anally.  And now I should masturbate my clitoris as
well.  That was what would give me satisfaction, that and watching the anal
rape playing out just a few yards away.  Slowly I reached down and put a
finger on the base of my clit and began to rub.  Yes...  that was what I
needed.

   I was masturbating with both hands now, one finger gently probing my
rectum and two rubbing my clit and pussy lips.  As I touched myself, the
rape went on, thrust after thrust.  I was amazed by his stamina.  I thought
perhaps he would be unable to orgasm, as rapists often are, and would
eventually lose his erection and have to withdraw.  But I secretly hoped
not.  I wanted to see the rape end with his cum.  Only, I wanted him to
last a long time.  If it went on long enough, I thought I might be able to
orgasm as well.

   After about ten minutes I was getting light-headed.  I was still
pleasuring my anus and clitoris, and I thought I could feel an orgasm
approaching.  The anal fuck in the alley was still going on, if anything
harder than before.  What a terrible punishment for her tiny little ass, I
thought, and that's when I had my first pre-orgasmic contraction.  I just
about cried out when I felt my ass tightly squeeze my finger.

   I wanted to see if I could cum just by being anally raped.  I stopped
touching my clit and fingered my ass harder, working my hand back and
forwards as if I was spanking my own bottom, and squeezing my thighs
rhythmically.  My rectum was starting to pulse.  I held onto the cold iron
gate to stop myself from swaying.

   I was very close now.  My head was spinning with lust and I honestly
wondered if I was going to cum so hard I passed out.  I knew that if I did,
I'd collapse into the puddle of pee between my legs, and he'd hear the
dustbins clatter, and come and find me, and I'd wake up with my hands tied
behind my back and the rapist's cock entering me.  The thought alone was
enough to set off my orgasm.

   It was a glorious cum, it hit me so hard, wave after wave.  I wanted to
call out but I knew I couldn't, I had to hold my breath to stop myself. 
Just as I was starting to come down, I jammed another finger into my rectum
and started strumming my clit again.  It set off a second, more intense
orgasm.  Cramping with joy, I slumped forwards until my forehead was
resting on the cold concrete.

   After about half a minute I'd got control of myself, though I was still
having a contraction every few seconds, and I managed to turn my head and
peer around the base of the bin to see the rest of the action.

   The rapist was obviously near to cumming.  His butt was tightly
clenched, he was screwing her with fast short thrusts and gasping "Fuck! 
Fuck!" I hoped for her sake that he'd pull out before he orgasmed (was it
really for her sake, or did I just want to see him squirt semen over her
pussy, thighs and ass?).  She knew his orgasm was fast approaching as well
- I could see her eyes rolling in fear.

   Suddenly she let out a terrified squeal from behind the gag and
frantically kicked out with her legs.  Clearly she had felt his penis
swelling up.  He grunted, dug his hands into her hip bones and pulled her
little bottom up into his groin, thrusting forward to achieve total
penetration.  This was how she would receive his ejaculation - on her
knees, with her cheek on the pavement, pert buttocks flattened by his hips
and his big cock crammed into her ass.  (I have not been able to get this
image out of my head since.)

   He stayed motionless for about fifteen seconds, straining every muscle,
and then I faintly heard the first jet of semen bursting out of his cock,
inside her ass.  My cunt pulsed in unison with his spurts.  There were
about six or seven more of them and he gave her every squirt deep inside.
Tears rolled down my cheek as I watched.

   So that was the finish.  I dimly expected him to run off immediately,
but instead he stayed inside her for about a minute, no doubt enjoying the
last orgasm sensations and waiting for his cock to soften.  After that he
slowly pulled out of her, wiped his dick clean, and cut the rope tying her
hands.  He took off her gag and let her cry quietly, but when she asked him
to let her go, he shook his head.  He made her move into the shadows and
lie down on her tummy on the pavement.  Following her, he moved on top of
her, lowered his heavy body onto her pale, naked back and rested.

   Time passed.  I kept my head down.  I didn't want to be caught, and I
could barely see them where they lay in the shadows.  I knew from my
self-defense lessons that the rapist would soon leave the scene of the
crime as he became aware of danger.  We would be safe when he had moved
away.  I waited behind the bins, trying to control my breathing and my
thumping heart.

   ------------------------------------------------------------------

   Some minutes later, I heard movement down the alley.  I looked
cautiously and saw her crawling out of the shadows, back into the patch of
moonlight.  He stood up and followed her.  He pushed her down, rolled her
onto her back and straddled her, coming down on her chest.  Was he going to
threaten her with the knife again, tell her not to go to the police?

   With a throb of excitement, I realised he was getting aroused again. 
The rape might not be over!

   I squinted to make out what was going on.  She was struggling a bit, but
he just held her down until she gave up.  "Ready for more now?" he asked
her ironically.  Then, taking his half-erect penis in one hand, he leaned
forward and slowly guided it to her lips.  She tried to turn her head away
but he grabbed the back of her neck with the other hand and held her still.


   "Look at me," he grated.  He held himself there for about half a minute,
staring her straight in the eyes, with the tip of his penis lying on her
closed lips.  The terrified look on her pretty face was bringing him back
to full arousal, I could see his cock growing back to its former size.  The
glans, still glistening with body fluids, was swelling and pushing between
her lips.  I heard one scared little mewl from her, and then, never taking
his eyes off hers, he slowly started pushing forwards, entering her mouth.
"You don't have to suck," he muttered, "just open your throat." I lost
sight of his cock as he leaned forward over her face and began to fuck.

   I ducked back down behind the trash cans for a moment of inner debate.
With the rapist down on his knees.  I could easily escape the alley now.  I
could escape my bizarre sexual fetish and go and fetch help.  If I hurried,
the rapist could be stopped before he managed to complete this second
violation.  I thought about this for a moment and then came to the horrific
realization that I didn't want to stop him.  I wanted to witness the whole
thing, right up to the finish.

   Right now I was finding this forced oral sex tremendously exciting.  I
had been ordered to perform oral sex by several of my boyfriends, but none
of them had ever used me like this.  My hand dipped down between my legs
and glided between my vaginal lips.  I was wet, wet, wet, and my hand came
away glistening, with strings of lubricant trailing from my fingers back to
my pubic bush.  I moaned silently, grabbed the gate with one hand and
plunged the other hand into my pussy, frantically rubbing my clit.  I could
still hear muted little slurping and grunting sounds from further up the
alley, and cautiously peered over the bins to watch the rest of the
delicious oral raping.

   He took her for what felt like half an hour but must really only have
been five or ten minutes.  For most of the way, he was intently watching
his penis sliding in and out of her cute little mouth, and the tears
rolling down her cheeks (and so was I).  Once he started at a sound at the
entrance of the alley, and hunched down over her to avoid being seen.  I
stopped masturbating and held my breath, in case someone was coming, but it
was just a cat sneaking past.

   Suddenly, without warning, he pulled out and got off her.  I ducked down
and watched through a crack between the bins as he dragged the redhead up
to her knees and stood over her.  Holding her head still with his hands
twined through her short hair, he guided his penis back into her mouth.  He
gave her every inch.  He started thrusting with his hips, grunting with
each stroke and obviously enjoying the sensation of his cock head punching
in and out of the entrance of her throat.  One hand was on the back of her
neck, the other was holding the knife.  She was moaning and weakly trying
to pull away, but her resistance was basically broken.

   Me, I had three fingers in my mouth by now, sucking on them and rubbing
my clit for dear life with my other hand.  With her back to me, I could see
her tied hands, her taut little bottom trembling and a sheen of her pee on
the backs of her legs.  I strained my eyes, trying to see the semen
trickling out of her anus, but I couldn't make it out, I wasn't sure
whether it was because he'd deposited it so deep inside or just because it
was so dark in the alley.

   Well, neither of us was going to last long.  I was desperately trying to
delay my orgasm to wait for him (normally I have the opposite problem with
my boyfriends) when I saw him tremble all over.  He dropped the knife
(fortunately it landed on the concrete rather than on her), grabbed her
head with both hands and pushed her away.  He was holding her mouth open
with his big rough palms clamped on her jaw.  I saw his belly convulse and
the cum squirt out of his cock and into her open mouth.  Four long, white
streaks.  What a fucker, to be able to cum four hard shots on his second
orgasm of the night.  I bit down on my fingers and pinched my clit and I
came, oh God help me, I came so bad.  I lost it for a few moments, I was
seeing stars.

   When I came to my senses, the redhead was lying face down in the alley,
and the rapist was gone.

   ------------------------------------------------------------------

   I went to help her, of course I went to help her.  I got up, slipped my
shoes on and staggered towards her, hopelessly shaky.  I knelt down beside
her and stroked her hair and told her that he was gone and that she was
safe now.  She was crying.  "Where were you?" she asked.  "Where were you
when he was raping me?"

   I told her that I'd gone around the corner to look for help, which of
course wasn't true but I hoped she was too dazed to think about it.  I
untied her hands, helped her to stand and to get her underwear and jeans on
(it wasn't easy, the jeans were quite tight and her legs were cramping). 
We put on her top, and I wiped the tears and cum off her face with the only
rag I could find (my panties).  "We'll get help," I told her, "you'll be
all right." I picked up her shoes in one hand and put the other arm around
her shoulders and we limped off down the alley together.

   I was glad to be able to help and protect her, and make sure she got to
safety, but at the same time I felt a terrible guilt.  I knew this was all
my fault and that if I had gone to get help, instead of watching the entire
scene, then she would not have had to submit to the whole ordeal.

   We made it to my car, a few blocks away, we must have shocked a few
passers-by but I really don't remember.  I got her into the passenger seat
and then went around to the driver's side.  I wanted to take her to the
hospital and to file a statement at the police station.  They'd need to
examine her and I'd have to make a statement as well, since I'd seen the
felon at close range.

   Actually, I was getting increasingly worried as I drove away.  Would the
police want to examine me as well?  I wasn't sure what story to tell them.
I could repeat the line about having gone to look for help, but if they
went to the crime scene, they'd see that there was no way out of the alley.
What would happen if they found out I'd been there all along?  Could they
use some kind of DNA evidence to find out what I'd been doing?  Had someone
been watching the whole thing from a tenement window?

   It was not until a couple of minutes later that I had an idea.  We were
stopped at a red light, she was crying softly and I was absently stroking
her hair and wondering what to do.  I thought about going round the block a
couple of times to give myself some time to decide.  Then the idea just
popped into my head.  It was an awful idea but compelling.  I immediately
rejected it but it stuck in my head.

   When the lights changed, I pulled into the left lane, ignoring a honking
cab driver, and accelerated off around the corner.  "We'll go this way
instead," I told her, "it's quicker." She didn't respond.

   "Where are we going?" she asked dully after a few minutes.

   "Somewhere safe, honey," I told her.  "Er...  we'll go to my house and
get you cleaned up.  You can have some of my spare clothes.  Here, take
those dirty things off."

   She didn't move so I reached over to unbutton the top button of her
shirt.  She reflexively batted my hand away, but started taking her own
clothes off.  She dropped the blouse and jeans into the seatwell and sat in
her bra and knickers, arms and legs crossed and shivering slightly.

   About five minutes later we were there.  The back streets were pretty
quiet and I only had to stop once, to turn on the overhead light and check
the map.  I pulled up to the kerb and reached past her to open the
passenger door.  "OK, this is my house.  Out you get," I told her.

   "Wait!  Let me get some clothes on?" She fluttered her hands helplessly
at herself.

   "We'll get you some clean clothes in the house." I gave her a little
push.  "Quickly, before someone sees you!" She turned and levered herself
gingerly out of the seat (leaving a little wet spot behind her) and stepped
up onto the sidewalk.

   I quickly leant over and closed her door - then stepped on the gas and
pulled away from the kerb, fast enough to spin the wheels.  Leaving her
standing alone on the sidewalk.  In the worst neighbourhood in town.  In
the middle of the night.  In nothing but a skimpy little bra and panties...


   I watched her in the rear vision mirror as I cruised away.  She ran
after me for a few steps, then gave up.  I could already see dark figures
converging on her, ambling towards her slowly, taking their time...

   ------------------------------------------------------------------

   I drove for a few minutes, avoiding major streets, taking abrupt turns
to shake anyone who might be following me and once doubling back to make
sure no one was on my tail.  Once I figured I'd got far enough from the
scene, I turned down a dim suburban street.  I drove along for a couple of
blocks, checking that no one was around, and pulled over.

   I was aware that I was far too drunk, shaky, and sex-high to drive.  My
left knee wouldn't stop trembling.  Besides I wanted to stop and think
about what I had just done to that poor woman.  I felt tremendously guilty,
but at the same time totally excited.  I had certainly sentenced her to
another terrible ordeal of rape.  It would already be beginning.  The first
cocks would probably be entering her now.  My hand drifted down between my
legs...

   I rubbed myself through my skirt for a few seconds then slipped my hand
underneath, spreading my legs and slouching down into a more comfortable
position.  Thinking about the forced penetrations I had witnessed (and all
but taken part in) and the sight of the cum squirting into her mouth and
the new fucking that she would now be receiving.  I had gone past being
ashamed of myself.  I still had no panties on so my fingers went straight
into my hot, squelching, swollen, throbbing cunt.  I closed my eyes and
tilted my head back in ecstasy.

   My masturbation was suddenly and rudely interrupted by the sound of a
car door opening.  My door!  I'd forgotten to lock it.  There was cold
night air spilling across my bare legs.  I opened my eyes to see a hand
reach down and take the keys from the ignition.  I couldn't gather my
thoughts in time to stop it.  I looked up and froze in shock.  There was a
tall man standing next to the car, jingling my car keys in one hand.

   I stared up at him.  Dark eyes stared back from a hooded face, white
teeth suddenly gleamed.  I wanted to pull my fingers out of my pussy and
reach for the horn but I couldn't move a muscle.  Another man opened the
passenger door and started to climb into the front seat.

   I realised that I had no escape and that they were going to do just what
I had always feared and wanted...