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The Dark Dreamer

33000 words

Style: Bondage/BDSM Fantasy, Male Dom - M/F

Tamara was a reasonably normal teenage girl, awash in hormones and sexual fantasies. And if her dreams were a little darker than most, that was not much of an issue. But when playful drunken fondling turns to gang abuse she finds that instead of horror and shame she is caught up in her own dark dreams. Intoxicated with the kinky excitement, yet shamed by her response, she covets more sexual abuse and punishment at the hands of anyone willing to give it to her. From jaded teachers, to perverted older men, from gangs of blacks, to cruel Eurotrash to a stint as a sex slave in Morocco, Tamara gives herself to her dark fantasies and lives a dark dream of bondage, punishment and abuse.

Price:  $6.95

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What were they thinking when they looked at me? The men who came over to visit my parents? The guys I ran into, the clerk at the little grocery on the road, the guy in the car passing slowly by and staring at me.
They wanted me. They wanted me like lions wanted deer. They wanted to chase me down and take me. I’d had that sort of feeling many times, I think most girls do, at least the attractive ones. But I had it more now, and more strongly.
The men who came over to visit my parents, often with their wives, looked at me, while pretending not to. But I wasn’t fooled. I spent most of my time in my bikini, and I pretended not to notice them, of course. But I did. Sometimes I even played up to them while deigning to even notice their existence. I’d walk past them without real need, or bend over, or turn while sunbathing, just so they’d look at me. And then I’d feel a hot little shudder run up my spine, wondering what they were thinking, maybe imagining them jumping me and doing me right then and there.
Of course they were safe. They guy at the fish, bait and grocery store up the road was safe too. I wore my bikini to go there, but put on a pair of short shorts over my bottoms. It was a small store, but did a lot of business. Men dropped in to buy stuff, and I felt their eyes on me and my little bikini top and short shorts. Well, I always had, but I was much more conscious of it now, and felt a hot little throbbing between my legs.
I flipped through comics, examined magazines, and then, feeling like a tease, and liking it, I bought a Popsicle. I even held it against my breasts in line so that my nipples were hard, and then paid the guy as causally as you could want, pretending not to notice his eyes drifting down to my chest, to my stiff nipples poking out against the thin fabric of my bikini top.
Out on the steps, I sucked on the Popsicle as though I had no awareness of anyone watching, the men and boys going in and out, their eyes drifting over me, especially as I slid the Popsicle deep into my mouth… and sucked
Very innocently, of course.
Then I wandered back to the river, back along the path next to it to our cottage.
Jared and Michael started talking to me again, just like “Hi,” in passing, and still I didn’t scream and curse at them. I just sort of ignored them. And they took courage from that. They were creeps, after all. If they could take advantage of someone who wouldn’t fight back, well, they would.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t afraid of them. In fact, if I was afraid of anything it was myself, my reactions. I was embarrassed, but mostly for my reaction, my weakness. It didn’t suit my self-image. It didn’t fit with how I saw myself. I liked to be kind of dignified, kind of self-confident. Letting guys maul me and then not even fighting back was just not in keeping with that.
Liking it was even more bizarre, and I didn’t really understand why I had, or why I fantasized about it, or why a dark, ugly part of me wanted it to happen again.
I didn’t want it to happen again, though. I mean, not ME, not really, not consciously. But a part of me did. I thought about going near them, wandering near their cabin, maybe at night. But I didn’t..
It was early morning. I hadn’t slept well because of how hot it was, and I was out in the canoe when I ran into them again. It was horribly hot and humid. Of course I was wearing my bikini.
Their boat came up from behind, swerved closer. I heard it, of course, over my shoulder, turned, saw it, recognized it. But there wasn’t much I could do. I kept paddling steadily, ignoring it, taking a sort of superior, arrogant approach. It got closer, and slowed, coming alongside.
“Hi Tamara,” Michael said.
I kept paddling, looking straight ahead.
“Hot day, isn’t it, Tam,” Jared said.
“You sure look hot anyway,” Michael added.
Their boat wasn’t a speedboat or anything, just a runabout with an outboard motor. But it easily kept pace with me.
“Tamara always looks hot,” Jared said.
“Tamara is hot,” Michael said.
“You got a perfect body, Tamara,” Jared said. “Do you know how fine you are?”
“I can still remember those perfect tits,” Michael said.
“Show us your perfect tits again, Tam,” Jared said.
I kept paddling, strongly, steadily, not trying to do something stupid like out race them. I kept looking straight ahead, mostly. I wasn’t showing them any reaction, but my heart was racing. My stomach was churning. I was afraid they would do something, but… there was that dark part of me, too, and it wanted them too. And I think because of that I was actually getting aroused even while I rolled my eyes to the sides, looking for witnesses, looking for somewhere close I could put in to get away from them.
It was a very wide river, though, and there was no cabins along this stretch.
“I really liked our little party, Tam,” Michael said. “You got a great fucking body.”
“A great body to fuck,” Jared said with a leer.
“Your tits are so soft. I could play with them all day,” Michael said.
“Her cunt is pretty nice too,” Jared said. “Was it sore after we’d done with it, Tamara?”
“Wanna come over here, Tam? We’ll go to one of the islands and give you a good one,” Michael offered.
Their boat turned sideways and bumped me, shaking the canoe.
“Hey!” I cried, the first thing I’d said.
They chuckled and leered, and did it again, bumping me, making the canoe sway wildly. Then they turned in against me and Jared reached out, grabbed at my wrist.
“Let me go! Fuck off!” I cried.
He yanked me forward over the side of the canoe, pulling me hard so I was sprawled forward across the side of his own boat. Michael grabbed my other hand and they dragged me easily into the boat, where I writhed and twisted and fought against them. They only laughed, and Michael got my hair, yanking me forward so I cried out in pain, pulling me lengthwise along the boat, urgent now, looking around excitedly.
“Suck my cock, Tam!” he ordered, jerking his bathing suit down.
“No! Fuck off! Let me go!” I screamed.
I could feel Jared’s fingers at my bottoms, then cried out as they were yanked forcefully down to my knees. I twisted and writhed and tried to fight them but Michael had my hair, forcing my head down, and my arm, while Jared was behind me, holding the other hand while pulling my swimsuit off.
I was sprawled, belly down across one of the hard benches of their boat, my ass in the air, and Jared slapped it hard, the crack of noise echoed an instant later by my cry of pain. He got the swimsuit off and forced my legs apart, and my face burned as he laughed and fondled my bare bottom and rubbed at my pussy.
Michael was yanking at the ties of my bikini, and I was still twisting and wriggling and fighting, but to no avail. They had me named now, and gleefully fondled and groped me everywhere as I writhed and twisted in helpless embarrassment and anger – and a dark, rising excitement.
God damn it!
“Suck me, Tam!”
“Fuck you!”
“No, we’re gonna fuck you, bitch!” Jared said.
He slapped my ass again, and again I cried out.
“Suck him or get a spanking!” he laughed.
“Fuck off!”
Crack! His hand struck my bottom hard, and Michael twisted his hand in my hair. I clawed at his wrist, and he cursed and jammed my face down against the bottom of the boat.
And then I felt them forcing my hands back behind me, and a lightning bolt left me breathless as they used my bra to tie my wrists together.
“Fucking whore!” Michael cursed, slapping my face.
I cried out as Jared slapped my bottom, and as I felt his finger thrust in against the mouth of my sex, pushing hard into my tender pussy. I was moist, but not ready by any means, and it hurt. I gasped as my head was yanked up by the hair and Michael shoved his cock into my face. He rubbed it back and forth across my face, laughing and leering at me as I tried to keep my mouth shut.
Then I cried out as Jared shoved his finger against – holy jeeze! – my ass! I gasped and jerked violently as he shoved his thumb into me.
“What a tight little ass she has,” he said with a leer.
Michael yanked at my hair again. “You don’t suck my cock Jared is gonna fuck your ass, bitch!” he threatened.
“Then do it!”
And gasping, I did, opening my mouth, surrendering it to him. He shoved his cock into it hard, and I gurgled around it, my lips forced wide as before, my eyes rolling up at him as he leered down at me, smug, arrogant, excited.
“Suck cock, Tamara!” he sneered.
I sucked.
Behind me, Jared’s cock was pushing into my pussy as his thumb continued to pump in and out of my anal opening. My wrists squirmed and twisted helplessly where my bra bound them together. My hips hurt as they ground against the side of the bench, and my knees ached against the bottom of the boat. But my main focus was on Michael’s cock.
He was shoving it deep into my mouth, and I was frantically trying to suck and lick at it so that he would keep it there. Behind me, Jared forced my legs wider, and slapped my bottom sharply, stingingly, as he shoved his cock deeper.
Michael had a fist full of hair at the back of my head, and he was kneeling on the bottom of the boat, pumping his hips in and out, raping my mouth even as Jared assaulted my pussy. Then he pulled hard on my hair and I gurgled and choked and gagged as his cock punched through into my throat, and slid painfully down my gullet.
My eyes bulged and I thrashed weakly, but they had me in a poor position for resisting, and his cock slid hard and deep, until suddenly my nose was jammed hard against his pubic bone and my eyes were pressed against his belly.
“Yeah! Yeah!” he shouted. “Fucking right down her fucking throat!”
“Fucking A!” Jared shouted.
I only just heard them over the pounding in my head.
Jared started to thrust in and out hard now, his hips slamming painfully against my upraised bottom. Or rather, that wasn’t so painful, but that made my thighs jam hard against the edge of the seat, and that was painful.
All this time I had been struggling, but even so I had been getting more and more turned on. And something strange was happening inside my head. My struggles were becoming more and more – false, more and more aimed at putting up a front. Because my body was becoming hot and aroused, and it was draining away my will to resist, my will to fight, my desire to stop them.
Despite the pain to my thighs, Jared’s cock pounding into me felt incredible. My pussy was soaking now, and my whole lower body was throbbing and thrumming with hunger and need and arousal. My wrists being tied was doing something to my mind. I felt a huge, swirling sense of utter helplessness and submission sweep through me.
Michael pulled up on my hair, his long, fat cock sliding out of my throat, and out of my mouth. I gagged and coughed, and saliva poured out over my lip onto the bottom of the boat as he laughed and rubbed his spit-wet prick over my face.
“Fucking nice piece of ass,” Jared said.
“Fucking nice throat on her too,” Michael replied, roughly fondling and groping my breast with his free hand.
He tried to shove his cock back into my mouth and I closed it, still gasping for breath.
“Open your mouth, whore,” he ordered, digging his fingers into my breast painfully, twisting it so that I cried out in pain.
He thrust his cock into my mouth again and Jared laughed, slapping my ass hard.
“You’re ours, bitch!” he crowed, driving his cock into my body like a weapon.
He shoved his thumb up my ass again, twisting it around, but my attention was, again, on Michael’s cock as he rammed it into my throat.
A hot, pulsing excitement gripped my lower body, especially around my pussy and abdomen. My breasts throbbed hotly, and every time Michael or Jared squeezed one – hard – always hard – I felt a shockwave of pleasure accompany the ache. Where was it coming from? I didn’t know. I didn’t understand.
But I was on the edge of a climax.
If it hadn’t been for the discomfort, the choking and gagging, of Michael’s cock in my throat I would have already come.
But not coming was almost worse. The intensity of my arousal was growing. I was practically trembling with the sexual energy and want and need and hunger inside me.
“I’m gonna fuck her ass!” Jared cried.
He slid his big cock out of me, pulled his thumb out of my ass, and pressed the fat, wet nose of his prick against my anal opening. I had never been fucked there, and had never really wanted to, to tell you the truth. My eyes widened as I understood what he intended, and my wrists jerked convulsively against the bra entangling them as I tried to pull free of Michael’s hand and cock.
Surprisingly, given how big his cock is, he forced the head into me fairly easily. It just slid into me, and he laughed in delight as my ass clamped down around it.
“Fucking nice!” he gasped.
He slapped my ass hard on both cheeks with both hands, and lunged forward. I cried out, the sound inaudible because of the cock filling my throat, and his cock slid several inches deeper.
A part of me felt dazed by this, that I was being fucked in the ass. Another part was exultant. I didn’t understand why, but it was so shocking, so outrageous, and so … so cruel, and yet that aroused me. Why?
He slapped my ass again, and his cock thrust deeper. “Ah, fuck she has a tight ass,” he cursed.
He worked his cock deeper, slapping my bottom, which was now hot and stinging, every time my sphincter clamped down around him. There was a fullness back there, and a twisted sense of rightness and excitement to that fullness. He forced himself deeper, and I felt cramps deep inside me.
The two of them fought over my breasts, squeezing and fondling and slapping them, pinching and plucking and twisting at my nipples as they drove their cocks into me.
Jared has his buried in my ass now, and the feeling was incredible. I had never imagined it would feel so good. And when he started pumping in and out, slapping my ass at the same time, my body just melted and my mind was nearly blown out by the long, crackling sexual firestorm that erupted within it.
They wouldn’t know, of course, not with my throat blocked, and my body continuously twisting and thrashing anyway. My hips jerked and bucked convulsively and my whole body thrashed and twisted. But they just thought I was still resisting, and slapped at me, cursing me, sneering at me as orgasm howled through me like a hurricane.
Jared’s hips were slamming into my upturned buttocks like a piston as he rammed his cock up my ass, and now Michael pulled back, squeezing his cock, pumping it while jerking up on my hair, and he sprayed his load over my dazed face as he laughed and leered down at me.
He eased off his grip, then, groaning as he sank back on his heels and released my hair. I groaned weakly, my ass still up in the air, Jared still hammering away at me as my chin lay on the bottom of the boat.
“Oh fuck,” Michael groaned.
He reached down for my hair and squeezed the last of his juice onto it, then released it again. He turned the boat a little, did something I couldn’t even see. Jared gave a final series of thrusts, hard thrusts that made me gasp and grunt again and again, then finished inside me, coming in my ass, pouring his cream into me.
It felt gross and at the same time incredibly hot to feel his hips pressed against me, to have his cock filling me, to know he was shooting his load up my ass even as he groaned and held my hips tight to pin me back against him.
Laughing, they untied my wrists and flung me over the side of the boat, then turned and raced away. I sputtered in the water, gasping, looking around to see I was not far from the canoe. I swam to it and climbed awkwardly in, gasping, dripping wet, trembling and shaking. I spied my bottoms to the side, and paddled there to snatch them up, then found my bra floating a little further on.
I paddled slowly back to the cabin, wincing now and then at my sore groin, my sore thighs, my bruised breasts. I was in a daze, and hardly thought about much of anything.
It had been so good!
And I hated them for it.



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