Caitlyn's Date

Copyright ©1999,2005 CaitsBasement.com
No duplication or transmission, whole or in part, without prior written permission.


Disclaimer: 

The following is a written version of a fantasy a friend of mine sent me; someone I'd met over the internet.  It was a fantasy we were discussing living out as a real-life role-play.

Since we are both consenting adults with lots of pre-arranged understanding, role-play is lots of fun. We do not, however, condone rape in any form, and we do not condone non-consensual sex in any way.

The characters in this story are strictly consenting adults who pre-arrange to take on the roles as written.

If you can’t differentiate between consensual adult sex games and rape, please see our Main Page and Information Section before reading any further.


Caitlyn's Date

The first time I see you is at your home. You have met me at the train, and we drove home, but beyond looking I have not done anything. You are wearing a coat, which covers everything, so when you remove it at home I get my first good look at you, and know the role you intend to play.

You are wearing a white blouse and skirt, but as you turn to me I see through it, that you wear a bright red bra. Knowing how red underwear gets me hot, being the color of passion, you are showing me your intent to excite me right off. In particular, the blouse is just a close enough fit that I can see almost every stitch of the bra, and the alteration you have made in it. You have cut two holes, allowing your nipples to poke through, and I can see already that they are hard, straining through the holes, pressing on the blouse.

From across the room it can be clearly seen, the suggestive holes in the bright red material, and as you walk toward me I feel my breath catch and my cock start to grow. You stop before me, smile, and run your tongue sensuously along your red lips. "Like what you see?" You breathe. I nod, giving you my most sensual smile. "Good." You say, reaching up to an already open button at your neck and, with a smile of your own, close it. "Because that's all you're going to get."

I feel like you have just kicked me in the crotch, and you know it. You walk past me, giving me good look as you pass, actually brushing against me, knowing that I am not a violent person and you have nothing to worry about.

For the next eternity you do everything to drive me mad. Sending mixed signals, you smile suggestively and do nothing. When you sit your knees are pressed so close together you are actually straining. As we talk, you almost 'unconsciously' twirl your fingertip over your nipple, through your shirt, tracing the hole and keeping each nub hard and erect, poking against the white material.

Your voice becomes more and more sensual as you tease, ultimately becoming so steamy it seems your clothes must melt. You take your fingers from your knees, running them slowly up your inner thighs to the hem of your skirt, and then actually point with one finger up between your clenched legs, all the while breathing so hard your blouse might explode.

Finally, driven to my limits, I start to get up, and your voice turns to iron. "It's been fun, but it's time for you to leave now!"

"How can you --?!"

"Like I said, it's been fun." You walk away, going to the door. Almost stunned, I follow. As you reach the door, you turn, looking at me. "I hope you enjoyed the view, 'darling'." You say, thrusting your chest out. You turn again, about to open the door, and my arms go around you, clutching your breasts tightly as I pull you back to me. You cry out as I pull you against me. "Let me go!"

I turn, pushing you against a wall, your front pressed tightly to the wall and my body pressed tightly behind you as you try to struggle, to fight me. But I have a very good grip on your breasts, my cock pressed against your wriggling ass. After a few moments of listening to your protests, I turn you around and again pin you to the wall, this time rubbing my hands all over you. I have you so tight against the wall you can barely breathe, your protests reduced to strained whispers as you struggle to push me away.

For the moment I am content to run my hands along your body, not 'attacking' your best parts, enjoying your hopeless struggles. Finally, I reach between us, and you try to stop me from tearing your blouse. I do it slowly, snapping one button as you try to hold my hands back. Then I reach lower, and despite your best efforts, I tug, snapping another button. "Leave me alone!" You plead, reduced to begging when you find that all your haughtiness and self-confidence protect you no more than your strength. My mouth goes to your neck, kissing sensuously as I pop button after button, hearing you gasp. "Stop it!" You cry, but you are also gasping from the touch of my lips on your neck.

When I pop the last button, I pull back and survey my captive. You look down with a groan of misery. Your blouse is held fully apart, and your bright red bra screams lust to me, your hard nipples poking out like twin delicacies, begging to be licked, begging to be eaten.

As I look, enjoying the view, you raise your right hand as if to slap me. But you telescope the movement of the wide swing so far that I have no trouble catching your wrist long before you can connect. You are fortunate you did not, for if you had slapped me I would have done the same to you. (Consider it a clue, if you want to be slapped. All the same treatment applies. If you bite me I will bite you, though my favorite targets are breasts, and you really don't want to kick me in the crotch!)

I force your wrists together and raise them, pinning them over your head against the wall. Your arms now imprisoned, I bend down and pull your nipple into my mouth, licking and sucking through your bra. You writhe helplessly, begging me to stop, to let you go. I suck on one nipple, then the other. You start calling me names, yelling for help, telling me what you are going to do to me when you get free. Finally I give one nipple a sharp nip, causing you to yelp, and I straighten. "Well then, I am just going to have to make sure you don't get free."

I keep your wrists pinned over your head with one hand, while with the other I start pulling your blouse off. When it is free of your skirt I pull you from the wall, force your arms behind you, trap them again in a tight grip and pull your blouse all the way down your arms. I so tangle the material around your arms that you are trapped, and I have a few moments to use both hands.

While you struggle frantically to get the last of your blouse off I grab your bra, which clips in the back, and start pulling hard until the wire hook breaks free and I rip the bra off you, down your arms to further impede your struggles. You scream, trying to get free but your wrists have been buttoned (in an effort to 'show' that I am not going to see anything) and this works against you. Fettered by blouse and bra, you cannot prevent me from grabbing your breasts, pinning you up against the wall - further hindering your efforts - and having a very good time with your breasts!

You plead and scream, trying to get me to let you go. Finally you manage to untangle your arms and, dropping blouse and bra to the floor behind you, you try to get my hands off your breasts! Pinned to the wall with my body, writhing in helpless misery, you cannot push me away or get my hands off your breasts. Finally, however, I grow annoyed at your begging and efforts. Backing up, I keep a firm grip on your breasts, and look at you. "I'm tired of fighting you. You had a chance to be nice, and thought it was more fun to be a bitch. Well, now you see what you get!"

My hands close tightly on your breasts, not enough to make you scream but to know that if you resist too hard you will! I use your breasts to force you down on the floor, on your back as I kneel over you. As you try to pry my hands loose, I let go of one breast and reach for your discarded red bra.

Pulling on your other breast to force you to turn over, I pin you to the floor, face down, my knee on your ass to keep you from getting up. Pulling your left arm behind you, I tie one end of the bra to your wrist, making it tight. A double knot ensures it will not clench too tight but will not release either. I let your left arm go and allow you to get it out, but when you try to push yourself up, and me off you, I tug at the bra, pulling your arm back over your head, making you reach back behind you. You scream as I pull your arm back, feeling the muscles straining, and I give you just a little slack. Meantime, holding your arm steady by the bra, I capture your right wrist and twist it behind you, making you reach up.

I tie the other end of the bra to your right wrist, taking up all but the tiniest slack, just enough to make you completely helpless but not hurt. Standing up, I inspect my work, enjoy the sight of your writhing body, as you lay helpless, seeming to reach for your own hands. Carefully, I turn you over, looking down at you. Your breasts now stand straight up, your chest thrust forward by your arms, and I reach for your breasts.

"Now I can have some fun, without having to worry about you." As you plead and cry for release, I do what I please to your breasts and nipples, with both hands and mouth. You lie struggling, unable to free either arm, thrusting your chest toward me. I put one hand down to your leg, and you try to press your legs together. I rub your leg slowly and sensuously, never once getting as high as your skirt, always stopping, while I suck and fondle your breasts. Occasionally I give you a love nip to make you yelp and struggle more, but on the whole I am not hurting you beyond exploiting your feminine helplessness.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't like being teased?" I give you another mild bite, making you jump and cry out. "But you love teasing." I straighten up, looking down at you, my helpless victim. You are gasping and writhing, in fear and more. But you are determined to keep me from your treasure. I notice your legs are pressed so hard together they are trembling. "What's this?" I ask, taking your wet nipple that I have been sucking and nibbling on between thumb and forefinger, turning and fondling it. "You're trying to keep me out. Not nice. Let's just see what you have been hiding."

I take your skirt hem and lift it about an inch off your legs, at the moment not seeing much but your reactions. As I raise it about a quarter inch higher you start to protest, to moan and writhe about, begging and pleading with me. "Sexy legs." I say. "Such lovely thighs." I keep up an appreciative monologue as I uncover you with infinite slowness. I am only two inches from your crotch when you start really pleading in earnest, crying for me to let you go, to stop. Suddenly, in my steady climb, you feel me pause and breathe in appreciation. "Red!"

You sob, humiliated. You are wearing tiny red panties the same shade as your bra, the kind with just string straps and the thin thong going up your ass, not hiding your cheeks, barely much material in front, just an inch between your legs. "Please, God! Leave me ALONE!"

I raise your skirt higher and higher, slowly savoring every millimeter. You lie still, not wanting to give me a show with your movements or risk exposing anything before I do. You look down, begging for mercy that will not come. I raise your skirt until it is at your waistband, your panties fully exposed. So far I have not touched you except to fondle you with my eyes. I 'study' every stitch of your flame red panties, knowing you are watching my eyes and tormented beyond belief by the naked lust building there.

I lower your skirt in folds at your waist, so only about an inch of it actually covers your body, and kneel there, drinking in the sight of your nudity. I put one hand on each knee, and with infinite slowness, with a touch so gentle only the nerve ends feel it, I start up your legs. You writhe about, trying to break your bra, but I have done a thorough job on the knots. They will not strangle, but will not give either. Stopping, you look and feel as I run my hands micrometer at a time toward your crotch. When I am barely a third of the way you cry for help, and your efforts become even more frantic as I get up your thighs, closer and closer, my fingers moving inward to target your pussy!

Finally I am an inch away, and you freeze. "Please! DON'T!" You scream, and you feel me go all the way, my fingers touching the top of your labia. "GOD!" You cry, falling back.

"My, what is this?" I ask, my fingers stroking your mound. Letting go, I grab your knees. It is a test of strength, you try with all your might to keep your legs together, I keep applying just enough force to make you very slowly lose. I spread your legs, listening to your crying pleas, and finally they are spread, and I get myself between them, blocking your legs open. You see me staring at you, and are helpless as I reach out, and my fingers touch the inch of dark material between your legs. "You are WET!" I say as if in astonishment.

"Nononononono! Please!"

"You are positively soaked!" I run my fingertip up and down your lips, teasing through the material."

"NO! Leave me alone!" You scream.

"No? You're not soaked? Funny, but to me you look drenched! Let's see if we can find out, maybe this material is a bit too much." Reaching under the edges, I grab your labia between my fingers and gently pull, stretching until they show through. I push your cloth between and allow them to close over it. With my fingertips I then stroke your exposed lips. "There now. We'll just check later if you ARE wet. Who knows?" I ask, tickling your labia with my fingertips, making you writhe about on the floor, your crotch thrusting sensuously. "I could be wrong!"

Standing up for a moment, I look down in admiration at your helpless body. All that hides you is the thin covering of the folded skirt and the red panties that seem painted on you, disappearing between your legs, hidden by the folds of your pussy. You feel the sensation of them in you, and know that you are drenching them. I kneel down again, and you start to plead uselessly for mercy.

I undo the snap at your hip, lowering the zipper. "Now, if I tug this over your hips and off you, likely your panties will come as well. Or I could just grab a good grip on your fur, or your cunt lips, and pull you up! Or you can lift your ass off the floor yourself, and I'll take your skirt off and it won't hurt a bit. I think I'll leave it up to you. The skirt comes off regardless. So, do you help in your rape?"

You stare up at me, breathing heavily, trying to consider. Five seconds, ten. "Ok, we do it the hard way." I say with a tone of resignation. Reaching for your crotch, I put my hand on your mound of Venus, seeking through the material for your fur, trying to gather enough in my fingers to drag your body off the floor.

"WAIT!" You scream. "I'll do it!" I pat your pussy lips.

"Good girl!" Turning your face away, you sob as you feel me grab your skirt, and you push your hips off the floor, allowing me to lower your skirt. You feel my fingers tracking along your legs from hips all the way to ankles, but are helpless to stop me.

I stand over you, looking down at your body, now clad only in the accent of your tiny thong panties. "You little tease. Things go so well for you when you are safe. When no one will lift a finger to you. When you know a little scream will get a man to back off. Well, I am not like them. I like screaming victims, I like the way your pussy tightens around my cock as I make you scream for mercy. And I have many ways of tormenting you. Get up."

"What?"

"Get on your feet, Caitlyn. I want you standing here facing me, so I can do all sorts of things to your lovely body!" You shake your head. I bend down and grab your out-thrust breasts. "Get up, now, or I will lift you to your feet, and hear you scream every inch of the way!"

Knowing I will do it, you try to comply. But though you can sit up you cannot use your arms to get you off the floor. You try to get your legs under you, but cannot. You keep trying, but every time you almost make it, without your arms to steady you, you lose your balance and keep falling to the floor.

I enjoy watching your efforts as you try different ways. There is one way to do it without arms, but I will not tell you. I am enjoying the show you are putting on too much. You never make it enough to keep your balance, and I put on a show of exasperation. "Looks like I'm going to have to drag you up!" I grab your breasts tightly, but do not lift you by them. In fact, while pulling up slightly, I am in fact steadying you so you can get your legs under you, and stand up, with the aid of my 'pulling'. Finally, you are facing me. "Well, never thought you'd make it,"

"Fuck you!" I pinch both nipples sharply, causing you to throw your head back and scream.

"Be nice." I caution, giving your breasts a brief but sharp clench, then let them go, backing up. "I've got something for you to do." Your chest clenches in fear.

"What?" I look you over, one arm reaching behind your back, the other pulled up, holding your breasts out to me, your slim body 'decorated' by the tiny red panties, only a thong hiding just the crack in your ass. Your breasts are firm, your nipples red and pointing, as much from fear and pain as lust.

I go over to a radio, and tune it until I find some soft music. "Dance for me."

"WHAT?!""You heard me. I want you do dance for me. Sensuously. Dance your desire, your lust. I want you to dance like you are being touched, being fondled, bring FUCKED! I want you, topless, unable to prevent me from touching you, to beg me with your body for my cock to break into you!"

"NO!" I make a great show of removing my belt. It is long, black, and will curl agonizingly around your softest parts.

"There are many ways to teach a woman to dance. You will dance lust, or you will dance pain!" I draw back the belt, showing that I am taking careful aim. I start to swing!

"All right!" You cry, flinching away. I pull the swing before it can hit your breast. Choking back a sob, you start to move your body, trying to get into the rhythm of the music. At first, your movements are awkward, your bound arms becoming sore and your balance off.

"Move your breasts against my chest." I tell you, stepping closer but still about a yard away. "Move your body against mine. Thrust out your hips, and feel my hard cock against your pussy."

"Please. Don't make me!"

"Do you want my belt to beat your breasts to two swollen red mounds?" You shake your head. "Then let yourself go! Put your body against mine. Rub yourself on me."

Choking back a sob, you try to do what I have ordered. You try to get into the music, moving your body. I get closer, wanting you to move your body against mine. You cannot bring yourself to do that, but do manage to 'pretend' we are touching. You rub your breasts inches from my chest, moving your crotch close to mine, pretending to rub it. You turn, letting me see your tied arms and lovely ass as it sways sensually, your cheeks not hidden by the thin thong. You imagine what it would be like to feel my hand on your ass, to feel my cock pressing in, breaking in, and you falter, turning. "Please, don't make me do this!"

"Pleasure yourself on my body." I order you over the music. I hold out my hands, palms cupped toward you. "Put your breasts in here!"

"NO!" You scream, unable to endure it any longer. You try to run, but I catch you quickly, before you can take a few steps, and grab your hair, using it to turn you around.

"I'll teach you how to move like a woman should!" I yank you into my arms, clutching you close, your naked body writhing against me. Not having to worry about your bound hands I press against your back, driving your breasts into my chest, and reach down with my other hand, grabbing a tight handful of your ass, pressing you against my crotch.

"Lemego-lemego-lemego!"

"No way. Your lesson on how to be a woman has just begun!" Using my hand clenching your ass I mash you into my cock, holding you so tightly your breasts are crushed against me. My mouth covers yours. I squeeze your ass so hard you scream, and I thrust my tongue into your mouth. You struggle against me, hopelessly, as I clutch you. I am not even going after your breasts or pussy, just holding you close and reveling in your struggles, my tongue invading your mouth. You long to bite it but fear my reprisal.

You keep trying to scream but it is muffled in my mouth.Your struggles become wilder as you feel my cock hardening against you, and know that the thin inch of cloth trapped between your labia will not protect you at all. In fact, your movements against me are moving it back and forth along your cunt, deeper into you, rubbing your most private flesh.You break the kiss, leaning back desperately and scream at the top of your lungs "LET ME GO!"

I release you so suddenly you stagger, off balance, and barely keep from falling, knowing you will be doomed if you fall again. Catching your balance, you turn on me in fury. "FUCKING BASTARD!" You try to kick me, but I am ready and catch your ankle, holding it to my side as you stagger on one foot, tottering as I clutch you leg, stepping closer. I reach out with my other hand, grabbing your breast firmly.

"That was stupid." I tell you, giving your nipple a sharp pinch that makes you cry out, but I release your breast, still holding your outstretched leg. I put my hand on your thigh and, still maintaining a tight grip with the other, tucked against my body, I run my hand up your inner thigh right to your crotch. My fingers explore your pussy as you struggle again for balance, trying not to move and fall. I pull out the crotch of your panties from between your labia, examining the dark cloth against the bright redness. "My, my. Absolutely drenched. I thought so."

"NO!" You cry, but know it is so. A thin trail of come, released, starts teasingly down your thigh. "Don't do this!"

Grabbing a tight hold on the side of your panties I yank hard, and you feel them snap. I pull again, almost yanking you off your foot, and the other side breaks as well. I am left holding the bright red material, drenched dark in the middle, and you are completely naked and vulnerable to me. I bring my hand down, and shove my middle finger hard and deep into you, making you scream.

"Drenched and horny, just like a woman is supposed to be!" I say, playing on your fears. Making you think I believe that naked, vulnerable and drenched is the only way I believe any woman should be. You fear I will use you only as an object, and I prey on that. I pump my finger in and out of your pussy as you struggle for balance. Ultimately I am so oppressive that you do lose your balance, falling to the floor.

Only luck, and my pulling at your leg, prevent you from hurting yourself, so I let you go, force you face down, and pin you with my knee on your ass. I reach down between your legs, pulling aside your lips and digging my fingers hard into you. You start screaming at the invasion, but cannot stop me.

Shifting position, I pull out and take the panties by the snapped strings on the sides, the wet crotch in the middle. "Since you still doubt that you are wet, I think I'll prove it to you, and quiet you so you don't disturb the neighbors." Reaching up, I bring your panties in front of you and you feel the wetness of your own come on your lips. "Open wide." You clench your lips and teeth, trying to prevent me. I get the wet material past your lips, but your teeth block me.

Taking both ends in one hand, I reach down with the other, find your labia, then your clit. Getting a good grip on the nub I give it a brutal squeeze and when you shriek in agony I tug the gag into place, tying all four strings firmly. It does not silence you, but the wet material pulls your cheeks in, preventing you from closing your mouth or speaking, and you taste your own come.

I get up off you, reach down and grab your breasts tightly, hauling you to your feet and turning you around to face me. You look at me in misery, your protests muffled. "Now that's the way a woman should be!"

Grabbing your breasts, I pull you to me, but bend down so you fall over me and I lift you off your feet. Having a firm grip, I ignore your wild kicking, enjoy your muffled cries and screams, and reach one hand between your legs, forcing myself between your lips and impaling you with my fingers as you scream so shrilly it seems the walls must shake. I walk to your bedroom.

Carrying you into the room, I walk to the foot of the bed and throw you down on it, this time not caring how you land. I clutch your ankles and throw your legs open so suddenly, so wide that you arch your back and shriek! I get on you, still holding you open, and then grab your pussy lips, pulling you open hard, making you scream again. I dive on you and ram my cock into you with one brutal thrust!

You scream wildly, over and over, tears falling, as I lay on you, just enjoying your clutching pussy as your screams tighten you. Whether your screams are of fear, lust, pain, pleasure, I do not care. You are screaming and clutching my cock with your wet cunt, you are moving under me wildly, in pleasure or agony I do not care.

I am raping you, and you feel good!I start to slam my cock into you as hard as I can, pounding my pelvis into you, trying to hammer your clit as you move, shaking your head from side to side and screaming, your pussy clenching me. I can barely fit in sometimes, and the extra force I use makes you scream even more, until I am pumping and being milked by your tight twat!

Your pussy floods my cock, drenching the bed as you thrust your hips into me, and I go to brutally hard pounding, slamming into you until it seems I must break something. But the only thing broken is your reserve as you keep coming, screaming, writhing under me until you are mad with lust. You are moving so wildly that I can barely hold you down, and the tighter you get, the more you shriek, the harder I slam into you until I am coming, pumping my white hot sperm into you, and your last scream, a full bodied shriek, has a completely different tone from the others, until you collapse, gasping.I lay on you as we catch our breath. My cock is still in you, you can feel it still pumping, but neither of us moves.

I pull your panties from your mouth. "Happy?"

"Hmmmm. But you have to go."

"No, I'm here for the week."

"Won't you please untie me? I won't fight you anymore."

"Maybe tomorrow, or the day after."