Red Panties
A fantasy
This short erotic story was written in response to a writing prompt on Medium over a year ago. Like many short stories, I don’t know where it came from. It just sprung out word after word until it ended up as this, what I think is quite a story.
Trigger warnings: This story contains elements of consensual non-consent, rape fantasy, kidnapping and BDSM.
I squeeze the red thong in my fist tighter, remembering his words. “If you drop them, we stop. Hold onto them and we’ll keep going no matter what.”
I scream inside to drop them, to let it end, but I can’t. I won’t. I squeeze my fist tight and let them break me. I want them to break me, to destroy me, to leave me drooling on the floor like a broken doll, a toy for someone to find and use. I want this for us. I won’t let go.
I jerk as another cock pushes into my ass and the vibrator is switched on. I bite down on the gag and ride the wave of pleasure that rips across my body, firing every nerve like an electric shock. A hand grabs my hair and drags my head up so I can see my darling, my husband, beautiful and covered in sweat. He’s so close I could touch him if my hands were free. His cock is rigid and dancing, and I’m momentarily mesmerized watching it, wishing I was kneeling under it as it drools. He’s cum once already, and the way his eyes seem foggy, as if he’s somewhere else entirely, I know he’s going to cum again soon. I wish I could feel that cum splash across my face, my tits. If I’m lucky they’ll leave me in that puddle, where I can lick it up from the floor.
But for the moment, it’s all I can do to focus on him, to watch him, the brute behind him, face masked, hands on my husband’s hips, his massive cock buried in my beautiful darling’s ass. He knows I’ve always had a fantasy of watching him get fucked by another man, and he’d always joked that maybe one day we could make that dream come true. But had he just said that to make me happy, to make me horny and wet and needing his cock? Or was it his fantasy, too? I never gave him a chance to admit it. And now he can’t stop them. I could, but I won’t drop the panties, not even for him.
I groan, back arching as another shockwave of pleasure rolls through my body. The vibrator pushes me over the edge, and I’m trying my best to push back against the cock inside me, fuck the guy fucking me. My tits are rocking with the motion, the weights hanging from my nipples swing and pull and twist, sending waves of pain and pleasure stabbing into my brain. My shoulders burn from how my arms are pulled back, forcing me into the same bent over position my husband is in. My hands are numb from the tight tie, and my neck is raw where the other end of the rope is secured. I choke myself as I thrash, gasping for air around the gag as I cum again.
My vision blurs and everything becomes motion and sensation and noise. Echoes of groaning, whining, crying, cumming reverberating through the darkened room. Time stands still. It’s not night. It’s not daytime. We’re somewhere caught in between time, locked away from the world where nothing exists except for the brutes who’ve tortured and fucked us since I last opened my eyes.
And the cock is gone from my ass, the gag pops out of my mouth, and I’m greeted with a slick, musty dick that slides right down my throat, fucking me, choking me, gasping, jerking, cum splashing across my face, and then the feel of cock spreading his cream all over me. I stick my tongue out and lick his balls. Then he’s gone, and the gag fills my mouth, followed by the bag, and I’m in darkness again, my husband’s soft crying the only sound.
They came in the night. Quiet. No alarm, no sound, just hands reaching, grabbing, pulling me from the bed. I heard my husband struggle, yelling. Something slammed against the wall. A crash. I reached out punching and scratching in the darkness and was rewarded with a slap so hard I fell to my knees. Ears ringing, my vision swimming, I opened my mouth to scream and the gag went in as hands fell across my body, grasping everything and pulling me down to the floor on my stomach, helpless as they strapped my arms and legs in close. Rope or leather straps - I couldn’t tell, only that I was bound in a little bundle and unable to move a muscle.
“Red panties; yeah, this is the one,” was the only thing I heard, and I smelled the chemicals, felt the soft cloth covering my face, and everything went black.
Tears stream down my cheeks as he canes my tits. I scream as the hard bamboo rains down on me, the pain in my shoulders forgotten, the ache in my pussy raging. The brute yanks on my hair, pulling my face up to meet his, and I’m staring into a black leather mask, the only part of his amazing body that’s covered.
“She’s still holding the panties.”
“Punish the cunt,” says the other brute. “She fucking loves it.”
Another hard slap rattles my jaw. My eyes roll up into my head and the room is swimming, dark and empty.
My husband screams and thrashes and I hear his sobs. As the mountain in front of me steps aside to line up his next assault on my tits, I can see my darling still bent over, his balls pulled back between his legs in the iron grip of the other masked monster. He twitches and jerks, trying desperately to get away from the crop that’s wailing away on his balls.
The cane hits my tits again and again, and I’m soaring from the pain, enraptured by the way my husband’s body convulses with each blow. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I know right then that I’ll suffer anything to watch it, to see him helpless and pleading and broken, his cock still hard and bouncing. I know I’ll suffer the cane all day if, when it’s over, I can suck his cock, run my fingers over his glistening body, kiss away his sobbing.
“Drop the panties and we’ll stop,” says the mountain, but I just look on mesmerized.
“She’s enjoying this,” he says to his partner.
“Let’s see how much,” says the brute, and they quickly change places while my husband shakes in his bonds. I can hear his heavy breathing, gasping for air when the gag comes off, replaced by the brute’s cock. There’s no fight in him, no resistance, he simply opens and accepts, and I feel the rush of wetness flood my cunt watching it. So close. I can hear him gagging, the wet sounds of his mouth, and all I want to do is dive under him and swallow his perfect cock.
The world goes fuzzy when the crop hits my clit, and I begin to shake. The orgasm hits me faster than the crop can land, and I shudder and moan and writhe, raising my ass, spreading my legs wider, begging for it. Pain-pleasure sends me spinning out into the Universe. I feel the heat of the sun searing my flesh, a billion stars dancing around me, the blinding lights of the galaxy's center and the empty abyss between. And then the sudden drop, falling, crying out and reaching for anything until I crash on Earth.
I blink, lick my lips, take a long, slow, deep breath. I can hear breathing nearby, the steady breaths I’ve heard for ten years each night in bed. When I open my eyes, my beautiful darling is lying next to me, naked but free, as am I. His eyes are closed, his lips slightly open, a lock of dark brown hair lying limply over one eye. I want to push it away, reveal his whole face, maybe stir him and see his blue eyes open and find me, but I can’t move. I’m free of our bonds, but I can barely muster the energy to smile.
A shadow looms over me as if part of the darkness had come to life. The brute kneels next to me and pushes a device in front of my face. “I’m going to need you to sign here, ma’am, for services rendered. And for consent. I see you’re still holding the panties.”
I blink again, find his face, the mask again. I’ll never know what they looked like, and that’s part of the package. I swallow, wishing I could speak, but what voice I had is seared into the walls of this small, dark metal box. I nod instead and muster all my energy to lift my finger to the iPad. My hand trembles, but I drag my signature across the blank space, the red panties clutched tightly as I do. He knows what it signifies, as do I, but only he knows what’s next.
“Very good, ma’am,” he says quietly, and then he looks up. “We’re a go, fellas. Cage this cunt.”
I shudder as the words drip from his mouth, and suddenly the hands are back. I can’t resist. I can’t even speak out. I squeeze the panties as hard as I can, and let them take me, lifting me, carrying me across the room until I see my fate and my clit ignites.
They place me in the metal cage on my knees, pushing my head down and pulling my arms around my back. I feel the metal locking around my wrists and ankles, the metal collar locking around my neck. The gag, this time a thick rubber cock that toys with the back of my throat, is strapped into place. Then the cage lid clangs shut, echoing throughout the room. A second clang shatters the silence, and I know my husband is caged and manacled. We’re helpless again, and my cunt throbs. I groan when I feel a thick plug pushed into my ass, but I rock the cage with my screams and thrashing when they clamp my clit. Stars again, spinning, whirling, dancing in front of my eyes as a familiar site comes into place, the black mask of the brute.
“And now we’re almost done here.” His voice is ice cold, and he raises up his hand, revealing the red panties I’d been holding. I squeeze my hands, searching for them, and realize he has them, he’s taken them, and he’s…
I shudder, whimper through the gag. The pain in my clit is almost too much, but his words bore through the intoxication of pain straight to my heart.
“You paid a lot of money to be kidnapped, and eXXXtreme eXXXperiences LLC thanks you, but you’re too good to throw back, if you get my drift. You wanted to be raped. You wanted to be tortured. You wanted your husband to be raped and tortured, too. And I saw you getting off on it.”
I listen closely, unable to block him out, his words twisting into me, all of them true. How long had we been held in this room? I can’t say. How many times had I cum? I don’t know. But I want to cum again. My clit is a white hot supernova threatening to sear my brain but I’m dripping and desperate and wish he would just fuck my mouth instead of talk to me.
“I think we can find a buyer for you in South America, cunt, and you can live out your slave fantasies there under the roof of some coke king or rich financier. As for your husband, I’m sure we can find something for him, and he’s already broken in. Who knows? But thank you for your business, and I hope you’re satisfied with your purchase. If you’re ever in a position again to access the internet, please feel free to rate us on Yelp and Google. It’s been a pleasure, um, pleasuring you.”
And then he looks up and motions. “Two for cargo,” he says and presses a cloth over my face, and I scream as the universe fades to black.
When I wake, I can’t move. My eyes feel glued shut from the tears. My jaw aches, and I realize I’m still gagged. It’s dark in the room, but this room feels different - not cold and empty like the void but warm and inviting like home. But I can’t be home. The words of the brute echo in my head, and I stare at the bottom of my cage. No tears left, I just stare at the metal and wait. I fucked up. I just ended my marriage and my life, and no one will ever hear from me, from us, again.
I don’t know how long I wait before a door opens and I hear footsteps, soft and easy on the floor. My new owner? My master? Questions begin to flood my mind, and I feel the blackness of panic closing in, but before I fall into the abyss once again, I hear a click and a powerful vibration hits my clit. A deep, guttural moan flows out from around the gag, and I’m suddenly transported to the dark metal chamber where I last saw my husband. Waves of pleasure wash through me and my whole body tenses up as the first orgasm rocks my body. I thrash in my bonds, unable to escape the glorious cruelty of the vibe. My clit screams in pain and still begs for more. Time turns inside out, and I’m cumming again and again, lost in the drift of erotic torture. I feel the echo of the crop on my clit, the thickness of the brute as he rapes my ass, and I’m cumming again, my breathing ragged, sweat dripping from my nose and nipples as I lose myself and begin to drift.
Suddenly the vibe shuts off, and I’m left gasping and shaking, the Earth back underneath me, the silver metal bars of my cage coming into focus just as the face of my darling appears before me. A ghost, a memory, a missing piece of my life that I…I drop my head in shame. I’m sorry, darling, my beautiful husband. I’m so sorry.
“Darling.” It’s his voice, but it can’t be him. “Dollface, it’s me.” I can’t. “Look at me, cunt.” His voice is hard now, as I’ve never heard it before, and I shudder, push my clit back against the vibrator, wishing it would start back up again. I swallow and look up, knowing it can’t be him.
He smiles and sits crossed-legged on the carpet. He’s wearing a pair of orange jogging shorts, his favorites, and nothing else. I feel the tears begin again. “I know what you did. I saw the charges and contacted the company. You didn’t tell me you were going to go through with our little fantasy, and so I didn’t tell you I was going to take it one step further. It was amazing. It was unforgettable, I have to admit, but not as unforgettable as watching you clutch those panties and reveal to me just what you are and what you want.”
He smiles again and reaches through the cage, wiping at the tears. His fingers are cool on my burning skin. My heart flutters, and I remember him in his tux waiting for me as I walk down the aisle. Who knew where our lives would go back then?
“So, I paid a little extra to have this cage on standby just in case things got really interesting. And you didn’t let me down. You think I wasn’t listening when you hinted at all your little fantasies, but I was. I love you, and I’m happy to give you what you want and need. And I know now that this is it.”
Tears again, streaking down my cheeks. I’m home. I’m safe. He’s safe. I want to speak, to say anything, everything, but the gag holds me silent, and that just makes my pussy wetter. I can’t speak. I can’t move. I can’t do anything but what he wants, and this is where he wants me.
“This is what you want, isn’t it darling?”
I close my eyes and nod my head. He’s right.
“Good girl. Now, I’m going to go back to making dinner, and I want you to wait right here for me. Right here in your new special place. Your special place where I promise you you’re going to spend a lot of time from now on. Understand?”
I nod. Yes, my darling. Yes, I understand. I do. Thank you. I love you. I love you.
“Okay, I’ll be back in about an hour,” he says, climbing to his feet, and then he holds out his hand and clicks a button on what looks like a remote control. The vibrator fires up my already swollen clit, and I jerk in my bonds, all my aches and pains melting away as he walks off.
“Oh, and happy tenth anniversary, doll,” he says as the door closes.
