When Sarah had dreamed about losing her virginity, she had hoped that it might be in the course of true love, or at least genuine romance, and that it might give her the confidence to be a mature, empowered woman. But instead, it happened in the bathroom of a nightclub, with a man who forced himself upon her, tearing her clothes, squeezing her tits painfully, and shoving his hard cock into her sluthole despite her struggles and protestations.
And the only thing she got from it was the blessing of realistic expectations.
He laughed when he found that her pussy was wet for her own rape, and laughed harder when commenting on it made her whole body spasm with humiliated lust. He experimentally slapped her face, and discovered that that made her wetter still.
“You’re going to orgasm from rape, I can tell,” he told her. “And you think you’re some modern woman who has rights and ambitions and intelligence, but no slut who orgasms from rape has any of those things. I can tell you what you’re actually going to do with your life.”
She struggled again, and he ripped more of her clothes, and she realised that she was going to be walking back out of these toilets completely nude, with her rapist’s cum dripping from her pussy – and to her deep shame, that just brought her closer to orgasm.
“You’re going to end up spending your life as a man’s fucktoy slave,” her rapist told her. “And you will not even be his *favourite* slave, you will just be a spare hole for him to cum in if someone prettier or more talented isn’t available. Your whole life will revolve around your tits and your cunt and the most important thing in your life will be a man who barely remembers your name and uses you as an object to ejaculate into. That’s what your realistic expectation for your life should be, slut.”
Sarah began to cry – and then when the man laughed again, and then slapped her, and then found his own orgasm, pumping his seed into her non-consenting twat, she orgasmed too, just as he had said she would.
Afterwards, she tried to pretend it hadn’t happened. She tried to forget her humiliating rape. But whenever she became aroused, the memories returned to her, and she found herself masturbating to the thought of her own violation, and to the words that her rapist had said to her.
She found herself dressing more and more like a slut, and returning more and more often to the same bar, giving attention to the men who disrespected her and called her names, and when she inevitably was raped again, and orgasmed from it again, she gave up, and accepted that everything she had been told was true. She was nothing but a cunt for men to stick their cocks into, and it was a lie to pretend to be anything else.
Having accepted this new dream, she pursued it actively. And soon she found her destiny. She came to live with a man who barely remembered her name, and she never wore clothes, and her most important task each day was to lick his cum from the pussy of the girl he actually loved, and she was more content than she had thought possible.
Every day she thanked her first rapist for showing her who she truly was – and every day she pitied the sluts who spent their whole lives searching for a level of attention and affection they neither deserved, nor would find…
===
Enjoy this story? Then you’ll love my e-book Mindfuck – Stories of Psychological Erotica, available now from AllTheseRoadworks.com for only $3.99 USD! This collection contains 60 pages of hot erotic fiction, and your purchase supports me to keep creating new erotic content! (Click here to view in store.)
===