ANOTHER CHAPTER...Sort of:
(Background-- Rape Apocalypse was a story I wrote based mostly on a private chatroom rp I did with, without a doubt, THE best one-on-one roleplayer with whom I've ever had the erotic pleasure of connecting. Though she's inactive now (so I won't name her here), she and I chatted off and on for several years and did many different scenarios, including multi-chapter roleplays like Rape Apocalypse. I was sad when she told me she was moving on to new things irl and in fantasy, but very happy to have had the chance to share and shape my fantasies with her--and wished her the best with an open invitation to reach out if she ever felt the urge.
One of the reasons I haven't put in all the chapters is that it can be a chore to transcribe the one-on-one roleplay into a third person story. This is easier. When I roleplayed with her, I would often send her "in-between" chapters as gifts for her (because her rp was volcanic red hot!), since we couldn't always connect on a regular basis. Note: if my rp partner takes care of me, I love to take care of her this way.
I'm sharing it because it's already more or less in a storytelling format directly to her--no need to transcribe it from a copied chat. It is the ORIGIN OF THE KEEPER. The Keeper is the name/title of the antagonist of the story--the rape slaver. I believe this would fit best between chapters 3 and 4. It describes the transition of a nice, nerdy guy (some would say an incel, which is fair) into the horrific post-apocalypse "wizard" he would become using his scientific knowledge, his imagination, and of course, rape.
This take place in the afterglow of a vicious, punishing, humiliating rape that Kora just suffered--and in her temporarily subdued state, The Keeper reminisces. Apologies if the names don't match up to previous chapters. During our roleplay, I had renamed her "Piece of Ass" because renaming my rp victim characters gets me off. This is a direct copy/paste with only a few minor modifications. ~Doc)
THE ORIGIN OF THE KEEPER
One night, after a particularly long and physically exhausting rape for you, your Keeper puts you back in the cage as you quiver and whimper and then brings you your food items. A military MRE packet.
Your fellow captive, Bitch, is caged up in the rape-slave shed. You were brought to the main cabin for some one-on-one 'training' that has left your cunt feeling raw, your tits sore. Your ass is burning from being groped and spanked while you were used. You feel like a rough patch of road in the scorching sun... but at least, you are quiet now.
"Yeah... this is one of my favorite things." says your Keeper. He catches a hint of puzzlement mixed with the scorn in your after-rape expression. "The quiet-- the way bitches shut the fuck up after a good raping. I love it." He continues eating, knowing his words have slapped you even harder than your ass was slapped moments before.
"Wh... why?" The stuttered syllable cuts through the silence, surprising the keeper. It's not much of a defiance, but all that you can muster from a body and mind that's been so heavily drained by raping tonight. Your Keeper looks to your cage. You cringe, covering your nakedness with your arms as best you can as you turn your face and look at your rapist with your peripheral vision.
You sniffle a little, near the last of your tears for this violation.
"Well, that's a good question, Piece of Ass." The name he has given you makes your muscles tense in disgust, and you can't hide it because you are nude. The keeper moves toward you... is he already able to rape you again?? But instead of opening your cage, he sets down a small wooden crate and sits upon it, facing you. Then, he speaks, shadows flickering in the lantern light behind him.
"Back when it all went down, I was in college, just starting my second year. I was living in a basement just off campus--an actual basement, paying rent illegally to a friend so I could save money. It was huge-- set up like a survival bunker. In fact, he had dug out a tunnel and another big room. He wanted me to set up a hydroponic grow room for pot down there, and I said sure-- as long as I could have part of it for a lab for my college courses. I was a science geek."
"I told him it had to be off the grid. That's how cops catch people growing weed-- the electric company sees a spike in the electric bill from the grow lights, so they inform the police. He bought a bunch of solar panels and lights for the plants and we stored them for later."
"Then one day, it all went to hell. Nukes. Chemical attacks. Regular old explosive bombs, too. There was war in the streets and people fleeing the cities. I peeked my head out and through the smoke I saw this girl I'd known from my freshman year in the dorms. I dated her once. Hot... but a total rich bitch. I was a gentleman but she thought I was a boring, broke loser and she told all the other coeds."
"She was running and stumbled. I rushed out to pick her up and helped her get back to my basement. I was actually trying to save her-- to help her. Her football player boyfriend had just left her there and run off to save himself. I got her inside and downstairs, sealed the doors, and then heard the house up top come down and seal us in."
"I was checking on her, making sure she was okay. Cleaned up her cuts, tried to make her feel comfortable. We were going to be stuck there for a while since the door was blocked."
Your captor looks at you with cold, mean eyes. "Do you know, the cunt never even said 'thank you' to me? Not even once." There is a long, uncomfortable silence as he looks at you, eyes burning with a smoldering rage from that memory.
Despite your being as helpless and violated at his whim, the gaze still makes you feel even more naked... more vulnerable. He continues.
"Anyways, the bitch wouldn't stop crying. Day after day for a week. Crying all the time... or being bossy, like it was my fault we were trapped and why wasn't I doing more to get us out. And I tried to tell her we were safe, we had supplies-- and anyhow, before we go out we need to make sure it's not toxic. I had a plan. I had the gear to test the air and water. I knew another way to possibly get out too."
But the bitch wouldn't stop crying and screaming at me...."
He looks at you and smiles, "So I finally RAPED HER."
Your keeper sees you recoil at the casual statement. "I wasn't in the greatest shape back then, but I was easily stronger than her. Plus I had chloroform in my lab. I soaked a rag with some. It was easy to get close without her seeing it. She never looked at me when she talked."
"I was just going to knock her out to calm her down... so I could get some sleep. Really. But the power was intoxicating... feeling her struggle against my grip, her hot body rubbing against me as she squirmed, her perfect ass pressed on my cock as I pulled her back... and those muffled noises coming out of that BITCH MOUTH, but it was my hand that was stopping those sounds from becoming bitchy words. Mmmm-MM!" The Keeper says, with a noise like he's eating a good meal.
"At that point, I was switched on. No more Mister Nice-Guy. What had it got me anyway? Being nice to women only brought me grief. No appreciation. So I stopped chloroforming her before she could pass out, and while her arms and legs were heavy from the drug, I started ripping off her clothes while she moaned and begged me to stop, half stoned."
"I shoved her panties in her mouth and wrapped some duct tape around to keep them in. Bitch was starting to wake up, so I taped her wrists together behind her, and wrapped some tape around her arms and torso. I threw her down on a mattress and took my clothes off."
The look of terror is in your eyes as the Keeper tells you the details of his first rape. The look spurs on his words, "By the time I was naked and raging, the drug had almost wore off and she was trying to get up. I knelt down and slapped her pretty face... two, three, four times maybe. Made it go left and right like someone watching a tennis match. She was crying again... but the panties made it sound... GOOD. Sexy to me. She was trying to talk, too. But I could tell she was begging and not bitching."
"I grabbed both of her big tits and squeezed. She tried to squirm and get away, but I held up a fist and she stopped moving. I squeezed her tits some more and she just squirmed now... didn't try to get away. She cried and screamed in pain when I roughed up her tits and nipples, but she knew she had no choice. I made her fear my fist."
The Keeper sees you looking disgusted, and reflecting inward at your own fear of the fist. "I turned her over and started groping her ass and she got up and tried to run. Where the fuck could she run, the dumb cunt? I punched her gut, threw her down, ran my hands all over and up inside her body. I made her TAKE my pawing, putting my hands where ever I wanted and she just had to deal with it. I groped her, spanked her, slapped her, fingered her. She always was crying... so I gave her a reason to cry. MY reason."
"Then... I spread her legs, pushed them up as I moved up between them, and rammed into her cunt HARD. She squealed into her panty gag and squirmed under me. I have it to her rough, for a long time. I could understand her words through the gag, too. 'Please stop... you're hurting me... let me go... no no no.' Lots of moaning and grunting, too. It was like music to me. I played her like a guitar. My cock was forcing her to make ugly noises she didn't even know she could make as I rammed and stabbed it into her. My hands keeps grabbing and squeezing and pushing and pulling her. I rode that piece of ass like a surfboard on a wild wave. Then, I came inside her cunt... hard. Her eyes bulged out as she realized I was getting close and she begged me to pull out with those garbled words. I didn't."
He looks up and down at your naked, quivering body, seeing your tension. Your Keeper knows you are thinking of the cum he just left in your own cunt. "After I finished, I lay on top of her as she shook her head, all defeated, then dropped her face to the side, looking up at nothing because she was thinking about the rape she'd just got. I pulled out. Then I taped her legs together with duct tape. She didn't fight-- I'd raped the fight out of her. When I was done, she just rolled on her side and faced the corner, whimpering but trying not to make a sound. Trying to be invisible."
Another pause. "You know... you and me, we've got something in common." He waits for your quiet glare to meet his face. "I was a virgin until that night. So just like you... the first time I ever had sex, it was RAPE too. In fact, it's the only kind of sex I've ever had. Rape. Just like you." The Keeper's face slowly breaks into a large, wicked smile.
He watches your reaction as thoughts rage through your mind at the Keeper's casual joke. "You bastard... there's a difference between raping and being raped." You manage to spit out in a cracked, rough voice-- throat raw from screaming.
The Keeper laughs.
"Anyway. I slept like a baby that night. Woke her up the next morning with another good raping. And I practiced on her for the next few weeks. It was a LAB after all. I used her to test out new positions, new ways to tie her up-- new ways to subdue bitches, to beat them without damaging them... ways to use rape for my pleasure, and to punish her for getting uppity--rape to CONTROL her. I made her my very first rape slave. Turns out I'm a natural at this shit. I'm good at raping, just like you are good at being raped."
You wince, a shudder overtaking your aching body. The Keeper continues. "Eventually, I needed some supplies, so I tie up the bitch, knock her out with chloroform, and sneak out the back door she didn't know about--took be about an hour to get it clear of debris. I'm wearing a gas mask, but the radiation isn't too bad in the suburb that used to be there. No people around and I find THIS place--an abandoned warehouse, still locked securely--filled with canned food--but I have tools, so I can break in without breaking the doors down. I start building this hidden rooftop safehouse using the bitch like a mule when I'm not raping her. Had her bound-up ass pulling wagons of materials"
He pitches away the MRE packaging from the food he'd been nibbling as he tells you the tale. "I just get this place set up when I meet the first of the clusters of people that would become gangs. I fought them off with some weapons they didn't know I had... tazers, stun guns, chemical grenades I made. Plus all that raping had been like exercise for me, so I was in much better shape and well fed, unlike them. Later on, I found where they lived, killed all but two of them, told them this was my block. Since then, nobody fucks with me. They think I'm like a wizard or something, since I surprised anyone trying to break in with traps and technology. Nobody left around here seems to understand basic electricity--but I knew how to generate it and keep scavenged batteries charged. I think maybe they suffered brain damage--chemicals or psychological trauma. Don't know. Really don't care."
He gets up from the stool and lean over your cage looking down at you. "I kept her for about a year or so. By that time, my college coed had been raped in hundreds of different ways by me. You might say she was worn out. And she was just a little bit pregnant. So... I spotted a caravan of people, made contact, and sold her. Turned out that lots of people had been sterilized, so prego bitches were a hot commodity. I got myself a set of stainless steel tools and about two months supply of food for her ass. After that, I started stalking, setting up traps, and getting more girls."
The Keeper leans in closer, inches away from your scared yet angry face, "Men found out what it meant to be savages again. I wasn't the only one doing the raping. I just found a way to make a good living off of it." The keeper smiles-- and you feel like he's ready to rape again. And you're right.
"Better go make sure Bitch gets her nightly." He says. You know he means your co-captive's nightly rape. "Stay quiet, Piece of Ass." You do. He leaves you caged in his room, heading to the slave shed. Through the walls, you hear the sounds of the other captive pleading, crying... being abused... being used. You don't need to see it. Hearing the wails and moans and grunts forces you to imagine the raping in cruelly vivid detail.
You find yourself turning to look away from the direction of the noises, your head facing the corner, and you go try to not make a sound, to be invisible... just like the first girl had done after the Keeper's first rape.
