KARMA IS A BITCH WITH A WHIP
[Author’s Note: A cautionary tale inspired by the deep, dark fantasies of a handful of truly submissive friends who have been raped in real life and often find themselves wondering what it would be like if they could get their ‘sweet revenge’. For the would-be rapists, perhaps it gives them a reason to pause…knowing what their victims fantasize about…perhaps not… The story is exactly that; a story...but how often does the line between fantasy and reality blur?]
“Be careful what you wish for,” Nanci Calderone reminded herself as she paused for a moment to catch her breath from the exertion. This was something she promised herself she would do if ever given the opportunity.
Two days ago opportunity knocked. Loudly.
The man squirming in pain beneath her reminder her that she wasn’t quite finished. And she knew, deep in her gut, she had to finish – now.
Over the passing years, the more she thought about it, the more it became a goal… no, a mission that she must accomplish. She realized it wasn’t so much about hurting him or exacting revenge. However, she swore to herself from the tender age of 15 she would get back at him. In her late 20s and nearly through her 30s, the mission grew. She formulated a plan of how it would be achieved and how she would assure that she’d do it without hesitation; exactly as he had done to her. The more she thought about it, the more her blood boiled at the audacity of his actions against her; he forced himself upon her violently and then walked away as if it were nothing…as if she were nothing. She would make him feel it; the fear, the degradation, the helplessness, the abuse and the subsequent worthlessness.
Funny. Todd didn’t seem such a big man. Not now. In fact, as he trembled underneath her, glancing back in wide-eyed terror, she could no longer see the vicious animal he had been all those years ago when he violently raped her and left her bleeding her youthful innocence on the pure white sheets of her bed. He had molested and raped her body and mind and left her for dead – figuratively speaking. Granted, she survived and moved on with her life, but something precious from her youth was ripped from her that day.
She was doing her best to remind him of it.
She was doing her best to reclaim what he had taken from her.
It didn’t take her long to realize that, at 40, Todd Willis was still very much thinking with that trouser snake between his legs. (Some guys never change.) It had been incredibly easy to get him ‘almost drunk’ and lure him into the cheap motel room. It was the kind of establishment that you paid for by the night. If you were lucky, the sheets and bathroom were clean. She had paid for the room with cash under the assumed name of Smith. (It was the first name – Lolita – that had a ring of irony to it.) Six years his junior, she had been plotting this moment for nearly 19 years.
She paid for only one night. One night was all she really needed.
Once inside the room, Nanci made sure that they drank some more as they laughed and flirted. As he became more aggressive, she popped the question she’d been dying to ask him.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
For a moment, his face blanked as he looked her over. He hardly spent a second on her face. His stare, those glaring evil eyes, were burnt into her memory. As was the knife he held to her flesh…the knife he cut her with.
“Should I?” he responded with a cock-eyed grin.
She became more and more incensed that he didn’t even remember her. Hiding her disgust, she managed to coax him from most of his clothes as she removed only her jeans and boots, keeping the button-down shirt, as she put it, for him to remove with his teeth. She had a pleasant buzz going (she needed it to bolster her courage to execute her plan), but Todd’s beer she laced with something that knocked him out cold. When he woke, he found himself nearly naked and sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, his legs spread-eagled and his arms bound tightly together at the wrists and elbows and pulled to the headboard. She almost felt sick when she recognized his lecherous smile and his cock began to swell in his tight white briefs; but his face changed rather quickly when the drug-induced fog lifted and he realized he was tightly bound in to the bed.
Standing before him at the foot of the bed, Nanci slowly unbuttoned the shirt from the top down. He began to settle in his bonds, smiling his lecherous smile again, assuming this was some sort of sex game.
“Christ you are a kinky bitch!” he growled, struggling to test the knots and see if he might get free. “I’m not into this bondage shit, but hey, if you wanna do all the work baby, climb aboard and take a ride.” He looked down at his pulsing cock straining beneath his underwear to emphasize his words.
Nanci turned in disgust. She remembered how ‘the thing’ had frightened her…and how he didn’t care. Bolstering her resolve, she turned to face him. Slowly, she slipped the shirt from her shoulders; a faint hint of recognition crossed his face. His smile vanished. She slowly traced the scars – two of them – that he left there almost two decades before.
“Recognize me now?!” she hissed back at him.
He remembered. His eyes betrayed him. But there was no fear in them.
“Oh, yeah,” he leered as if expecting the kinky sex game to continue. She felt his eyes all over her. “Yeah. I remember now. You’re that hot little sophomore that used to hang out with Tommy’s sister. Yeah. I remember you. I took your cherry as I recall. Great piece of ass.”
To Nanci, he seemed to be bragging. Her stomach churned inside out. The fact that there wasn’t an ounce of remorse, no attempt to apologize, caused something in her to snap.
“TOOK MY CHERRY?!” she screamed in disbelief at his cool admonition of guilt. Leaping onto the bed, she straddled his chest and grabbed his hair with both hands, snapping his head back. “YOU FUCKIN’ CUT ME AND RAPED ME, YOU SICK FUCK!”
For the first time, it registered in his expression. This woman was not here for a kinky sex game. He struggled against the taut ropes that left him little room for movement.
“Well, I’m glad you had such a good time, motherfucker,” she hissed, pulling his head further back at an acute angle, “because now it’s my turn to take your cherry!”
Keeping one hand firmly in his hair, she reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the large rubber penis gag. She bought one that reminded her of his size and girth, which was frightening for a girl of 15. When she held it to his mouth, his eyes widened and he pursed his lips in resistance, so she pulled his hair even harder until he growled in pain and she could force the bulbous head of it past his teeth. Before he could attempt to spit it out, she reached around and buckled it in place. To reduce the potential for noise, she overlapped it with three pieces of duct tape she had hanging from the table. As she sat up and smoothed the tape to make sure it held, she felt his cock twitching against the cleft of her ass. Again, her stomach churned a bit.
“By the time I’m finished with you,” she spat at him, reaching back and crushing his cluster in her fist, “you’re gonna wish you never laid a finger on me, you heartless bastard!”
Todd squealed in agony over the pressure of her fingers pressing in on his balls and any remaining drug-induced fog cleared instantly. What was happening to him was very, very real.
Nanci smiled for the first time since he woke, satisfied that no one was going to hear his screams.
Backhanding him across the face, she watched his face turn red as his eyes watered and his mouth clenched around the penis shaped gag. Without a second thought, she backhanded him from the opposite direction. She felt his entire frame surge beneath her, his throat rattling in anger at the treatment.
The ropes held. She hit him again. And again.
“How do you like it, motherfucker?” she cursed at him, the question rhetorical. She didn’t expect an answer. “How do you like being forced against your will to endure what someone else decides to do with you?”
She reached behind her, grabbed his balls and crushed them again. His scream in agony was the answer she wanted to hear. “Feels frighteningly vulnerable, doesn’t it?” Releasing her grip, she feigned to strike him again, which forced him to wince, but she stopped short. Slapping his cheek twice in a condescending manner before she slid off him, she added, “I’m just getting started.”
Watching her every move, his eyes registering that he was fully aware of his predicament, they pleaded with her for release, along with the unintelligible words mumbled around the gag. His noises became more insistent when she began snapping pictures with a small digital camera she removed from her purse. First, she pointed at him on the bed, shooting from several angles. Satisfied with the images she reviewed, she then removed his wallet from his pants, liberated it of the $122 cash and three credit cards it contained before snapping pictures of his license and social security card.
Holding the camera to his face so he could see, she pressed the REVIEW button a few times as she held up a small micro recorder to his ear and pressed REWIND and then PLAY. His words echoed in the dimly lit room. “Yeah. I remember you. I took your cherry as I recall. Great piece of ass.”
“My insurance policy,” she said with a menacing grin. Placing the devices on the dresser, she put on her shirt, buttoned a few buttons and slipped on her boots. Stepping alongside the bed, she grabbed a pillow and liberated it of its pillowcase, slipping it over his head until the open end was at his neck. She then used his belt around his neck, tightening it until she could tell his breathing was labored.
“Be right back,” she lied as she double checked the knots, grabbed her car keys and a $20 and stepped outside into the warm summer evening, leaving him moaning in protest. She knew she’d only be gone a few minutes, 10 to 15 at the most, but she wanted him to have time to contemplate what she might do to him next.
She drove the three blocks to the McDonalds she knew was down the street and picked up a salad and diet Coke. Her head was still a little buzzed from drink and she felt the caffeine might help. Once back at the motel, she grabbed a bucket of ice from the ice machine before returning to the room.
Quietly, she opened the door to find him in a violent struggle, trying to break free of the ropes. He wasn’t having much success in escaping, but he had reduced himself to a breathless sweating mess. She sat in the chair next to the dresser and proceeded to eat her salad, watching him strain against the ropes, listening to his taxed and horse breathing, satisfied that the knots were only tightening further. She could see that his feet and arms were already a different shade of color from the rest of him.
Once she finished with her salad and soda, she laid out several items on the dresser for him to see when she decided to reveal them to him. She stepped into the bathroom, relieved herself and got dressed. The outfit she wore was simple but effective; not street clothes but the garb of a dominant woman, not unlike a professional Dominatrix. The corset was black and held her tightly as did the leather shorts and thigh-high boots. At first, the idea of the outfit had seemed a little silly to her – a woman in control didn’t need the ‘window dressing’; but when she looked in the bathroom mirror and held up the matching short rubber flogger, she felt a tremendous surge of power. It was a part of the mindfuck that she wanted him to feel deep down in his worthless soul.
She vowed to herself: He would never, ever see her naked body again. He didn’t deserve it. He would forever remember this leather-clad woman as the Domme who had owned his ass completely for one night.
Returning to the bedside, she gripped the pillowcase in her fist and pulled it free. When she saw his eyes and how they grew wide with a mixture of confusion and fear, she laughed in his face.
“Scared, of what I might do, you little worthless man?” she growled, showing him the short rubber flogger. She could hear a whimpering grimace, but still not the pleading for her to stop and release him. “You should be scared, Todd. You should be begging me to let you go. Begging me to stop, like I begged you.”
She felt his fear ripple across his skin when she pulled out the switchblade and, with a flick of her wrist, revealed the sharp six-inches of polished metal.
“You cut me,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “Why the hell shouldn’t I cut you?”
He cowered into the mattress, moaning in protest; his eyes transfixed on the blade as she lowered it to his chin and slowly, deliberately nicked him in several places. His skin took on a life of its own, pleading with his muscles to pull back and pull away, but the blade found its mark, creating a little trail of blood droplets from his neck, across his chest and abdomen until he could feel the tip of the blade at the base of his rigid cock.
“You’re being threatened with a knife and you’re sporting wood?!” she asked incredulously. “Christ! What a sick fuck you are!” Her mind drifted back to the rape and her own unwanted climax.
She pressed the tip of the knife through the material of his underwear until she knew he could feel the cold steel biting into his scrotum. He whimpered like a frightened school boy, which drew a satisfied smile across her lips.
“That’s more like it, Todd,” she said. “Now you know… just a little bit… of how frightened I was when you fuckin’ raped me. I had never even screwed before. I never saw a cock up close but once before that…and sure as hell not like that. It looked like it would rip me in two. I was so fuckin’ scared. But you fuckin’ just did whatever the hell you wanted… didn’t give a shit about me.” Drawing in a breath, she slid the blade in further, “well, now I’m gonna show you. But this underwear is in my way.”
Carelessly, she shredded the only thing that stood between her and torturing the weapon that he assaulted her with when she was only 15. She no longer cared to hear his noises, she just wanted to him to feel the same fear she was forced to endure. Tossing the remains of his underwear to the floor, she walked over to the dresser and returned with more rope.
As he watched wide-eyed with fear, she stroked his cock until a droplet of pre-cum emerged from its head. Quickly, she coiled the rope around the base of his cock and scrotum, pulling it tight. She then did the same, only for the ball sack, which pulled it away from the base of his shaft. The remaining length of rope she pulled tight until she could tie it off to the belt around his neck.
“Bet your scared now, aren’t you, Todd?” Nanci traced the length of his shaft with the tip of the blade. “Do you know how easy it would be to… split you in two?” She left the blade trace over his tightly bound balls until it nicked both his taint and both ass cheeks to the left and right of his anus.
Standing, she unhooked the short rubber flogger from her side and traced the same area with the 12-inch falls of the flogger. With a flick of her wrist, she reddened his thighs just to the left and right of his twitching member. Engorged with blood, it was already turning a darker shade of red. His body jumped with each impact, his eyes witnessing every strike.
Grabbing the pillowcase, she slowly began slipping it over his head.
“Yeah. Bet you’re reeeally scared now, aren’t you?”
It became quickly obvious to Nanci that she would have to inflict more pain upon this man in order for him to get the point. While this would take more time and energy, she knew there was room in her plan for whatever she decided to do. Checkout was 10AM and it was only 2AM. To stick to the plan, she needed to leave in six hours… that gave her plenty of time.
As soon as she had his head encased in the pillowcase, she returned to the dressed and grabbed a handful of clothespins, which she proceeded to attach to his nipples first. His screams scarcely reached her, her mind engrossed in the task at hand. In order to make him feel what she felt, she had to act as he had acted; totally oblivious to the fact that she was hurting him. In minutes, the clothespins she placed on his nipples, cock and balls had reduced him to a writhing, whimpering pussy of a man and her contempt for him was nearly complete.
Silently, she picked up the small flogger again and began beating his upper thighs and stomach, slowly working her way to his ‘lower brains’ which she had trussed up nicely. Eventually, they’d be a wicked shade of reddish-blue, just shy of purple.
“AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHH!” he screamed repeatedly as the falls wrapped around his strictly bound manhood. She didn’t think he could get that loud with the penis gag nearly at the back of his throat, but his noises had definitely become more intense. She felt her lips curl in a wicked smile as she struck him there repeatedly, watching as the shaft hardened further and the head swelled even larger.
It was quite the surprise when she landed a few blows across his balls and he shot a load of cum that jetted several feet in the air before landing across his head, chest and stomach. For a split-second, she’d wished she hadn’t put the pillowcase back on him.
“DID I SAY YOU COULD FUCKIN’ CUM, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT?!” she screamed at him.
Disappointed, she hadn’t wanted him to cum. Her intent was to deny him any pleasure of release. The man didn’t deserve to feel good, whether he came or not. However, she found herself wondering if it felt like an ‘unwanted orgasm’ to him, like the ones she’d been forced to endure back then…
She struck him repeatedly even harder than before until his writhing and whimpering stopped and his body went limp.
Quickly, her mind shifted gears. She ripped the pillowcase off his head and checked to be sure he was still breathing. The breaths were shallow, but they were there.
“Good,” she thought. “He just passed out.”
Knowing this was her best chance to change his position, she released the twistlock hardware she used to attach the rope around his left ankle to the rope she secured to the frame at the base of the bed. Rolling him at the hip, she moved his left ankle to where his right was attached and rapidly swapped their attachment points. With the right ankle free, she finished rolling his body over until he was face down and his right ankle could be attached to where his left had been. The clothespins attached to his nipples were now trapped under his body and the additional pain woke him almost as effectively as smelling salts.
By the time she had two pillows under his abdomen to add height to the position of his ass, her captive was wide awake and struggling even more. The rope from the belt around his neck that was tied to his cock pulled even tighter, causing his back to arch slightly. She had positioned the pillows in such a way as to leave his tortured cock and balls exposed to her final acts of what was beginning to feel like retribution and redemption.
Returning to the dresser one last time, she lifted the heavy strap-on dildo harness and made sure to secure it within his sight, tightening the belt between her legs and around her waist. Inspecting herself in the mirror, the massive rubber phallus hung heavy between her legs. To make sure he understood her intent, she had painted his name upon its length in hot pink fingernail polish.
"I know you completely forgot who I was, Todd,” she said as she stepped alongside the bed. “And most likely, you completely forgot what you did. It was obvious to me then as it is now, you only give a fuck about yourself. So, forget my name. That’s fine. For tonight, my name is Karma,” she continued as she gathered some of his cum and coated the large butt plug with his juices, “and I’m a bitch with a dildo and a whip.”
She held the cum-coated butt plug in front of him for a moment and then as she turned to press it into his ass, she stroked the dildo with her hand also applying some of his cum to it. When he saw his name on it, his protests renewed with fervor, until he screamed in pain as she shoved the butt plug deep into him, clear to the hilt.
Having never used a whip before, it took a few attempts before she could get it to land properly on his flesh. A few more practice swings, with the whip whistling and cracking in the air, and she found the right rhythm. Over the next hour, she painted his back and legs with line after line of thin red welts. She ignored his screams, but knew from the movements of his body and the rigidity of his cock that he wasn’t just feeling pain.
“Fuck!” she thought. “The plug must be rubbing him the right way.” Not wanting him to cum again, she stopped striking him near the ass, focusing on his back.
Once he seemed to calm down, she renewed whipping his ass until it was hard to tell how often the lines crisscrossed. At some point, he must have pissed himself. Within minutes, he was bucking again. She stopped completely this time, deciding to take another bathroom break. When she returned to beating him, with renewed severity, he finally came and passed out again. She used the bucket of ice and water to revive him; pouring the cold water on his back, but reserving most of the ice to pack around his purple cock and balls. When she was certain he was fully revived, she cut the ropes that bound his member, being sure to nick his tender flesh repeatedly.
Nanci knew it was time. There was one last thing she had to do.
Stepping up on the bed so that she stood on the mattress, she ground his balls beneath the boot she wore and then dug her heels into his ass cheeks, forcing him to cry out once more. She then knelt between his legs and removed the fowl butt plug, which she tossed next to his face. She then placed the long, thick anatomically-correct dildo (with his name on it) between his ass cheeks and grabbed his thighs with her fingers, spreading them further.
“You’ll remember me now, won’t you?” she declared as she placed the thick bulbous head against his gapping anus. He grumbled in hasty agreement, knowing her intentions. It was something he obviously did not want.
“You WILL remember me, won’t you?” she repeated, planting the head of it firmly inside him.
He growled in pain. He was repeatedly screaming “NO!” but she ignored it, just as he had done. (In her mind, she knew she might have stopped if anything sounded remotely like ‘please’.) She dug the nails of her fingers into his thighs and thrust the full length past his sphincter as he bellowed in tortured agony pitching a fit against the intrusion.
“I’ll make sure you fuckin’ NEVER…FORGET… ME!” she hissed, emphasizing each word as she stroked the dildo in and out of him like a carnal weapon. She felt his entire body strain every muscle in some vain effort to keep the thing out of him. Ignoring his mumbled pleadings to stop, Nanci Calderone found she became both confused and conflicted. She was feeling very good… sexually intoxicated beyond prior experiences. Her insides were rapidly pulsing with adrenaline and the violent impact of the dildo she was ramming into him and the harness’s center belt slid conveniently across her swollen clit. The harder she thrust, the better she felt. So she found herself thrusting with total abandon, much to the dismay of her captive. She rammed the dildo hard and fast up his ass as he struggled in pain beneath her. His efforts against the invasion only served to excite her more. She had to stop, didn’t she? This was about payback not pleasure…wasn’t it?
As she paused to catch her breath, she thought to herself, so this is what it means, ‘be careful what you wish for…?’ The mission she sought to accomplish all these years and, when that mission was so very near completion, she was about to have another ‘unwanted orgasm’ as a result of it. She was overanalyzing her feelings, she knew, but she found herself wondering about even deeper and darker thoughts that rolled through her mind. -“Is this what a rapist experiences when he’s raping his victim?”_
“FUCK IT!” she decided, shaking her head as if to erase the thoughts. “FUCK HIM! HARD! NOW! GET IT OVER WITH!”
With that she resumed thrusting her hips against him until her body betrayed itself and shuddered with such a violent climax that she felt as if it ripped through her own tormented soul from all those years ago. Dangerous emotions welled up inside…emotions she had to keep in check. Her full weight crashed on top of him in complete exhaustion as she buried the dildo deep in his bowels for the final time.
Reaching between her legs as she slowly caught her breath, she unsnapped the dildo so that it separated from the harness but remained deep in his sorry, teenaged-raping ass. Using several pieces of duct tape, she made sure he couldn’t force the thick intruder out: He would have to feel it inside him as he endured the effort to free himself.
She quickly put on the button-down shirt to conceal her Dominatrix-like outfit and set about the room to pack her things into the duffel bag that she brought with her. Once satisfied that she had everything she needed (the penis gag, butt plug, and dildo she’d leave to him as mementos), she moved to the head of the bed and reached into her purse. His eyes widened as she placed the dull kitchen knife into the fingers of his tightly bound hands. She didn’t have to tell him what it was for, but she also didn’t want him cutting himself free too quickly.
“It’s still pretty early in the morning,” she smiled at him as a hint of daybreak peeked through the drawn curtains, “but room service won’t be by until around eight thirty with the breakfast I ordered for you. So nice of them to offer to pick it up and deliver it for me. By the way, I left your clothes in the trash bin out front. I have no idea when they empty it.”
His eyes betrayed his exhaustion and supreme frustration with his helpless predicament. She was surprised to still see there was a bit of defiance and hatred left in them. Perhaps he’d never learn. Didn’t matter. In an hour she’d be 70 miles away returning the rental car which she also paid for with cash under an assumed name. Some men are so…trusting.
Running her fingernails roughly along the length of his body, she lifted his head by the hair from between his shoulders and whispered to him, “Now we’re even, bitch.”
She carelessly left his head fall back to the mattress.
Stepping away from the bed, she decided she would look at him no more. Her mission was accomplished. Done. Finished. To be thought of no more.
As she closed the doors to the motel room and her painful past behind her, she smiled knowing he would never forget that Karma is a bitch… with a whip.
© Copyright 2010 Stephen Masters / RealityNEMESIS
Written: January 10, 2010 (unedited)