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Offline Corvid

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Lioness [Winner of March/April 2017]
« on: March 10, 2017, 04:33:38 AM »
   It was three twenty-seven in the afternoon, and well past time that Fiona got out of the vinyl.
   Normally, the statuesque redhead didn't take appointments this late in the day. Part of the appeal of the job was getting to set her own hours, and knocking off early in the afternoon left plenty of time to get other errands done. Many of her clients paid in cash- the turning over of worldly wealth was a part of their worship and submission, in addition to not leaving a suspicious paper trail. And it was easier and safer to make deposits during banking hours than at a night deposit or ATM.
   But she had a certain fondness for Rob. He was a long-time customer, a polite and charming man, able and willing to pay extra for an appointment outside of normal hours. He had just negotiated the terms of a merger, a deal that had awarded him a lucrative bonus after days of painstaking research and hours of careful talks with volatile, powerful people.
   And he felt like a fraud. He was waiting for someone to realize that he shouldn't be in control, that they were wrong to place their trust in him, that he was not the person who should be overseeing assets worth millions of dollars and the livelihoods of hundreds of people.
   When he had come in that afternoon, he had been a frazzled wreck, desperate for someone else to take control, to take him to task for pretending to be something he wasn't.
   Fiona had almost thought he was going to say his "ease up" word when she had been choking him. Instead, he had ejaculated. Whispering desperate "thank yous" as his hips quivered, pumping his semen out onto the floor as her breasts pressed against his back, as her gloved hands eased off their pressure around his throat.
   The problem with being a one-woman operation, of course, was that it was then her job to clean the jizz off the floor. But, again, Rob. So grateful. He had even tipped her, above and beyond the special fee.
   And now Rob was long gone, the clean-up was done, restraints and instruments all put away, and Fiona wanted to take off the bodice and gloves and boots, the stockings and garters and thong, shake out her hair, put on a pair of cozy sweats, and get out of the stifling heat of the third-story studio walk-up that was her workplace.
   And then there was a banging on the door.
   She had seen Rob's Rolls Royce pull away from the curb after his visit, and would have noticed its return. She paid her place's rent in three month blocks, and was barely mid-way through the first of those months. One of her immediate neighbors only used the apartment to crash between long bouts of international travel (and she had an understanding with him anyway), the other was vacant, and she had carefully tested the apartment's acoustics to be certain that loud noises wouldn't bother anyone farther away.
   She had no other clients for the day. The front door required a guest to buzz someone in before they could enter.
   So who the hell-?
   It was difficult to walk quietly on boots with three-inch heels, but she did her best, leaning forward to peer through the door's peep-hole.
   There were four men outside. The one in front was clearly their leader, dressed in a tailored gray suit and tie, dark hair slicked back and immaculately styled. The other three looked out of place next to him, one in a wife-beater and jeans, one in a blue hoodie and shorts, the third, shaven-headed, with his face covered in scars, a sleeveless leather vest showing off tattooed arms packed with muscle.
   These were not men to be let in. These were men to call building security on. Or the police. Or both. Her phone was powered off in the pocket of her coat in the bathroom.
   As the man in the suit pounded on the door again, Fiona started to ease backwards towards the bathroom.
   Then she heard clicking.
   The unfortunate part of having a room that sound did not easily penetrate was that such discretion went both ways. Fiona couldn't hear what was being said outside of her door, but she could hear that noise from the doorknob. Reversing course, she looked out the peephole again.
   The man in the suit had given up his place in front, arms folded impatiently; in his place, Wife-beater was leaning forward, doing something just out of sight. The doorknob trembled as the clicking sound continued.
   Locksmith's tools. Skeleton key. One of those.
   Quickly Fiona fixed the door's chain into its slide. Recognizing that the door's other lock wouldn't remain secure for long, she took the initiative and opened the door.
   The chain slid to its limit, and she glared out at the men in the hallway, hand cocked on one hip.
   "What the fuck are you doing to my door, asshole?"
   Wife-beater actually looked somewhat chagrined- possibly because the movement of the door had jerked the illicit tool from hand, leaving it still wedged in the lock. The man in the suit glared back at her.
   "Mistress Fiona Lyonne?"
   "That depends on who's asking."
   Suit glanced over at Scars and gave a nod. Fiona took a hurried step backwards as the shaven-headed man swung a steel-toed boot back.
   The chain's slide burst out of the doorframe with the force of the kick, swinging uselessly at the end of the chain as the door flew open. Hoodie gave a quick look back and forth in the hallway and jerked the tool out of the doorknob before following the other men inside the apartment, closing the door behind him.
   "Oh, look," Fiona growled, never losing her glare. "Now 'who's asking' is going to buy me a new door."
   Her heart was galloping in her chest. She wanted to run back into the bathroom, lock the door, and grab her phone. Maybe she could power it on and make an emergency call before they forced their way in, maybe not.
   But, dammit, this was her workplace. She was the boss here. Men didn't come here to push her around; they came to surrender and submit.
   "One of your clients is Frank Connelly." Suit snarled.
   "If such a man were my client-"
   "He's in the hospital."
   That stopped Fiona in mid-sentence. Frank liked... but, no.
   "As I was saying, I don't discuss my client list. Even if you came in here with a fucking subpoena, my relationship-"
   He advanced on her, standing eye-to-eye, even with her heels. "My brother. Is in the hospital. With a perforated colon. You. Dirty. Fucking. Cunt."
   Dammit. She stood her ground, raising her voice to speak over him.
   "-with my clients is confidential, and I'm prepared to go to jail to protect that relationship. Now if, hypothetically, one of them enjoyed being roughly penetrated with a strap-on, he would engage in such an act only with an understanding of potential risks, and armed with safe-words in case he felt the play was getting too intense. It would be unfortunate if that client wasn't in tune with his body, or never thought to use that safety net, but I can't be-"
   He backhanded her across the face. She rocked back in her boots, one foot shuffling backwards to keep her footing.
   Her gloves creaked as she clenched her fists. Her arm arced forward and smashed her right hand squarely into Suit's jaw, dropping him on his ass on the floor. Towering over him, she roared.
   "You little fucking maggot. You think you're going to come here, into my place, and throw your weight around? You dare to hit me?! This is the domain of Mistress Fiona Lyonne, motherfucker, and men come on their knees to beg to be deemed worthy of my presence! Get out! Get the hell out of my chamber, you worm, and pray that you're so insignificant that I'll merely forget you!"
   She was in her element. For several seconds, she saw stunned fear on his face as he gaped up at her.
   It almost worked. Almost.
   Then: "Grab the bitch."
   Fiona was in good shape. She had taken self-defense courses. She gave Wife-beater a good kick in the balls before he had fully grasped the order that had been given, and raked her fingers- damn her gloves, it would have been good to have her fingernails- across Hoodie's face as he started for her.
   And then Scars drove his fist into her belly. He hit hard, and the vinyl corset offered little protection. Her breath whuffed out from between her lips as a surge of pain and nausea bent her almost double. Her hands flew to the site of the punch as she staggered back. His rough hand grabbed her by the throat, pulling her upright, and she clawed at it, tried to strike down at his elbow to break the hold like she had been taught.
   Then he punched her in the stomach a second time. And a third.
   The world swam. She felt like she would be sick. Someone grabbed her from behind, wrapping their arms around her shoulders, and yanked her away from Scars. Hoodie. She saw a flash of disappointment in the face of the scarred man; recognized that he had been prepared to use his fists on her until her spleen, bladder, or liver burst. Eager, even.
   She kicked him, but the blows to her abdomen had sapped much of her strength; she barely tapped his thigh.
   "You... huhhh... fucking fairy princess...! Get this gorilla off of me, I'll show you how to hit..."
   Suit had regained his feet, now, and walked to where Fiona stood, struggling against Hoodie's grip. The anger was back on his face, and the fear, regrettably, had fled.
   "So this is what little brother likes, eh? You lure him in with those big pornstar tits, take his money, get him to play your sick little games in the hope he might get to cop a feel? Is that it?"
   Fiona wanted to tell him that little brother had probably gotten his taste for having his prostate tickled from big brother's wang, but even now, she felt a fierce protectiveness towards the men who had sought her services.
   "Little brother probably doesn't need money to cop a feel on any number of tits. Big brother, on the other hand, needs to buy three friends..."
   He struck her across the face again. She bit her lip, tasting blood. Spitting, she continued:
   "...and even then probably needs mommy to explain where the tits are..."
   The world flashed, and she heard a roaring in her ears as he slapped her.
   "...seeing as how he hasn't been acquainted with any since hers used to serve drinks!"
   He drew back his arm to slap her again, dropped it with a snarl of disgust. Fiona smiled as her burning lip began to swell, thinking in a half-daze that he was probably afraid of what she'd say next if he continued to slap her.
   "You're going to cry for me, you twisted whore."
   "You think I'm going to get that bored?"
   Stomping across the room, Suit flung open the toy-box in the corner, pulling out the long leather riding crop from its velcro straps in the chest's lid. Turning back to where Hoodie held her, he smacked the implement against his palm, teeth bared.
   "Jorge, let's see these tits that got little brother so turned on."
   Scars unfolded a butterfly knife from the pocket of his vest with a series of clicks. The narrow blade flashed as he brought it close to Fiona's face; then he ran the flat of it over the top of her chest before turning the edge to the bodice's cross-lacings.
   The blade was very sharp. The silk laces of Fiona's corset split with its passage, one by one, and the latex sheath crumpled and fell to the floor, leaving Fiona's torso bared to her assailants. Suit smirked as Scars stepped back, staring directly at her bared bosom.
   "Why don't you take a picture?" Fiona snapped. "It will last longer."
   Suit snorted, reaching out a hand to flick at the gold barbell that decorated her left nipple. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Guys, why don't all of you take a picture. We can do a 'before' and 'after'."
   Scars proceeded to pull out a cell phone and do just that. With a smirk, Suit did the same, moving his phone in close to take snaps of the snarling redhead's breasts from several angles. Hoodie kept his place holding her; Wife-beater, Fiona was pleased to note, kept to the place he had assumed in the room's only chair, holding his crotch.
   Suit sneered as he put away the phone, spinning the crop in his hands. "When I'm done, the only guys who will want to see you shake those tits are going to be as sick as you."
   Fiona sneered back. "A ways to go until you'll take interest, then!"
   With a snarl, Suit drew back the crop and slammed the leather against the side of Fiona's left breast with a resounding smack that made the orb shake.
   Drawing a deep breath, Fiona drawled through clenched teeth: "Do you need some lessons on how to use that thing, vermin? There's a workshop at the college-"
   Suit spat in her face before drawing back the crop to slam it into her breasts again.
   Fiona kept her breathing steady as Suit walloped her bust furiously with the crop. The ache in the swelling mounds was increasingly hard to bear, let alone with the spiteful indifference Fiona was determined to maintain; when he struck her particularly hard, she allowed her breath to escape as a taunting curse:
   "Bitch."
   "Worm."
   "Pissant."
   "Loser."
   "Snotrag."
   "Cockroach!"
   "Flyspeck!"
   "Pussy!"
   "Soft- limp little Momma's boy's got a cock like an infant's... thumbnail...!"
   By then her breasts were a vivid magenta with blows, many of which would later form bruises, her veins were popping up as dark lines through blemished skin, and Suit was starting to breathe hard with exertion.
   Still he beat her breasts; still she taunted him.
   "You want to whip these tits, little man?!"
   The leather smacked her pierced nipple. Fiona bit the side of her cheek, and then laughed at him.
   "Go on! Whip them! You think you know the first thing about pain?!"
   He struck her nipple again; she turned her bark of pain into a laugh.
   "Oh, you like my jewelry? What are you, a moth?" She shook her burning chest at him. "Got to go after the shiny?!"
   Suit threw the crop at his feet. "Put her on the floor," He snapped. "I'm going to fuck this mouthy little bitch!"
   "With whose cock, you shit?"
   And then she was looking at the ceiling. Her hands momentarily free, she pushed them back, tried to wiggle away across the floor, but soon Scars had one arm, Hoodie the other, and she wasn't going anywhere.
   Suit jammed his hands between her thighs and tried to pull her open, gritting his teeth, but every time he started to make progress Fiona redoubled her efforts and slapped his hands together.
   "Fuckface, this is not a playground for little boys-!"
   Finally Wife-beater was called over, and between him and Suit they forced her legs apart, allowing Suit to get between her thighs and open his pants. His cock was long, and hard- apparently whatever effect her insults and struggles might have had upon him, diminishing his furious lust had not been among them.
   He jerked her thong up between her labia, lifting her hips from the floor with the force of it, until the garment tore and her pelvis dropped back to the floor with a thump.
   "I'm keeping a tab of every piece of lingerie you and your dogs destroy, maggot..."
   Positioning himself atop her, Suit plied the entrance to her sex with the head of his cock until he was certain of his aim, planted both hands on her swollen breasts, and jammed his hips forward.
   The breath was torn from Fiona's body. Her diaphragm went tight with the impact, her vagina scoured with the agony of forced penetration, her stomach cramping as he plunged into her.
   She cleared her throat to conceal the lack of breath, blinked innocently, and whispered, "Is it in, yet?"
   For the next ten minutes, he pounded her as deep and hard as he could, pulling back like a tensed spring, thrusting forward like a battering ram. The pain was too deep, too searing to be clever; she had neither breath nor concentration, only sheer will to resist. So she kept drawing breath, and with every devastating thrust, she yelled, "HA!"
   Keeping her eyes wide open, meeting his gaze as he squeezed and twisted and mashed her agonized breasts, and not crying, looking like a lunatic as she laughed out her defiance.
   "HA! HA! HA!"
   Her scarlet lips, cracked where he had struck her, tight with a rictus that might have been a grin or a sneer:
   "HA! HA! HA...!"
   As he began to drive faster and harder, her stomach fluttered and she became light-headed with trying to keep up with those breaths, those expulsions of mirthless laughter. And then he coughed, gasped, his filthy liquid pumping inside of her, hips trembling between her thighs as he polluted her with his semen.
   Panting hard, he looked down at her. "You on the pill, whore? Maybe I just knocked you up."
   "If I give birth to some half-rodent monstrosity," Fiona whispered, "I'll send you a card."
   Suit scowled as he tore free of her. "Any of the rest of you want a piece?" He snarled. "Angus?"
   Wife-beater shook his head, cupping his crotch with one hand.
   "Tyler?"
   Hoodie sighed, shaking his head as well. "C'mon, man, let's get out of here."
   "Not yet," Suit hissed. He jerked his head to one side. "C'mon. Get her up there."
   The leather-upholstered steel bench had restraints built into the legs. It was where Fiona usually put clients who were interested in being pegged with her strap-on. She kicked and shoved as the men picked her up, as her sore breasts and stomach were smacked down upon the unyielding surface, her body bent over the hard altar of sacrifice, but she had little energy left. Her wrists bucked against the cuffs as she stared at the floor, wishing- perversely- that she had a ball-gag to bite down upon for what was to come.
   "She's got a nice ass, Jorge," Suit said to Scars. "You like that ass?"
   His hand slammed down on her buttock, rippling her flesh. There was a jingle as Scars undid his belt.
   She heard Hoodie whistle.
   "Good. I want you to fucking bust that ass."
   Rough hands were on her ass, peeling her open. Something big and hot pressed against the tight, throbbing ring of her anus.
   "Put it all in there. Every inch, as fast as you can... I want this bitch to rip...!"
   His fingers bit into her pelvic bone, and he pulled back, and...
   Her backside strained. There was no way, there was no possible way-
   His weight pushed against her, pushed, and she felt her body wrench open, felt her asshole tear-
   Way too much, all at once, lurching deep into her guts and pulverizing everything in its path-
   Her teeth clenched together so hard that one of her molars cracked, and blood pooled in her mouth.
   "To the root, man, every inch...!"
   "Ohhhhhhh..." Fiona gasped.
   Scars' hips pressed against her ass, and Fiona knew that if she didn't need stitches, it was only a matter of time.
   "Ohhh... Ohh..." She whispered.
   His hands opened and closed on her ass, dimpling her buttocks as his cock twitched inside her bowels.
   "Oh, baby."
   Suit slapped the backside of her head. "Fuck her hard, Jorge! Destroy that ass!"
   "Oh, baby."
   Her thighs slammed into the bench, over and over again, as Jorge's mammoth cock bored apart her rectum.
   "Oh, baby. Oh yes. Yes. Like that. Oh. That's how you do it."
   "Shake the whore's fat ass! Show her who's in charge!"
   His hands slapped down on her backside. She shut her eyes.
   "Come on, big fella. Harder. Oh yeah. Oh, yes."
   Suit's shoes stamped across the floor, stopped, came back again.
   "Come on, Jorge, make her bleed...!"
   "Just like that," Fiona whispered hoarsely.
   She felt the riding crop slam down on the small of her back- not the flexible leather, but the leather-wrapped wooden handle.
   Her body screamed in unendurable agony as Scars pulled back for another thrust.
   "You're so much better than your boss."
   Suit screamed as he brought the crop down across her back, again and again, always on the same spot, just above her galloping ass, lashing her until her welted skin split open.
   "C-c-come on, stud... Show him how it's done..."

   Fiona was able to fish the extra key to the cuffs out of her boot with some gymnastic effort that caused her abused body to tell her that it was not okay, and might never be okay again.
   She didn't remember when Scars finally came inside her. She just saw the resulting mess of pearl-pink and dark red fluid ooze into the toilet.
   She didn't remember when they left. She had apparently passed out.
   She checked that the camera Rob had requested to record their sessions for his later pleasure was still running. She had been pretty sure she could track down Frank Connelly's older brother, but with the video, she had his accomplices as well.
   She called the police, and told them what had happened. They said that they were sending a squad car and an ambulance, and she conceded, looking at the red spotting on the chair, that she needed both.
   She spoke in a quiet, but remarkably steady voice.
   Only when she hung up the phone did she begin to sob.
« Last Edit: May 03, 2017, 10:49:34 AM by Red Right Hand »

Offline Red Right Hand

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #1 on: April 06, 2017, 12:27:36 AM »
This is one of the six entries for the March/April 2017 Story Contest.

We need your support. Members are eligible to vote in our poll: http://www.rapecage.com/forum/index.php/topic,3110.0.html

Guests who wish to vote MUST register first: http://www.rapecage.com/forum/index.php?action=register


Voting ends April 30th, 2017 at a random time. Please try not to wait till the last moment as the poll will close without warning.
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Offline Slipknotgurl1993

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #2 on: April 12, 2017, 02:45:49 AM »
amazingly written story. I loved the unique characters. 

Offline Corvid

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #3 on: April 12, 2017, 02:56:48 AM »
Thanks, @Slipknotgurl1993 . Glad to hear it met with your approval.

Offline TarnishedInnocence

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #4 on: April 12, 2017, 08:14:56 AM »
Oh my gosh, I loved reading this. I love her personality sooooo much and the story is written well. A few of the things even made me giggle, so thank you for that. The reactions were perfect. :rofl: :heart:
I love it when I'm sassy and she calls me "Little Miss Thang" or when she's putting me in my place and it's "My Little Cunt". I love it even more when it's cuddle time and it's "My Little Inny" :stuffy:

Offline Corvid

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #5 on: April 12, 2017, 10:58:51 PM »
Thank you, @TarnishedInnocence. I enjoyed writing it, and I rather admired Fiona's determination; hopefully that came through.

Offline TarnishedInnocence

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #6 on: April 12, 2017, 11:16:02 PM »
It definitely did! There were so many times where I thought she would break, but I'm glad she didn't. I like that this story is different and stuff. I look forward to reading more of your writing! :heart:
I love it when I'm sassy and she calls me "Little Miss Thang" or when she's putting me in my place and it's "My Little Cunt". I love it even more when it's cuddle time and it's "My Little Inny" :stuffy:

Offline RayPistonprowl

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Re: Lioness [Contest Entry]
« Reply #7 on: April 30, 2017, 02:46:17 PM »
@Corvid I'm impressed. You've a remarkable ability to write vivid characters. I loved Fiona's tough facade and smart mouth. I fucking lost my shit with these lines:

Quote
   "You're going to cry for me, you twisted whore."
   "You think I'm going to get that bored?"

:laugh: Well done.
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Offline Conroy Johanns

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Re: Lioness [Winner of March/April 2017]
« Reply #8 on: May 03, 2017, 01:40:52 PM »
This one was my vote, so I'm glad to see the horse came in. The great heroine and the genuinely witty dialogue made it work. I still get a smile from "Do you need some lessons on how to use that thing, vermin? There's a workshop at the college-"
"Nobody brought an extra bag!"

The Hopewell Pop Music Academy is possibly the oddest and silliest thing I've ever written. It's part-story, part-unofficial pictures thread, and all-pervy.

The Customer is the much more substantial story I came here to write before that weird creation of mutant silliness took hold of me. Check it out. Comments welcome!

Offline archon1980

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Re: Lioness [Winner of March/April 2017]
« Reply #9 on: May 03, 2017, 07:28:21 PM »
 :thumbs: Congrats @Corvid.  Well done, very well done.   :thumbs:
Cheers!

Offline domywife

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Re: Lioness [Winner of March/April 2017]
« Reply #10 on: May 06, 2017, 04:37:59 PM »
Great story
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Offline Corvid

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Re: Lioness [Winner of March/April 2017]
« Reply #11 on: May 13, 2017, 12:14:42 AM »
@RayPistonprowl , @Cyrano Johnson , @archon1980 , @domywife - thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed the story. It was fun to write.

Offline Marg4724

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Re: Lioness [Winner of March/April 2017]
« Reply #12 on: June 15, 2017, 01:51:24 PM »
Good God!!! And I thought I liked redheads before, this is one of my very favorite stories!
Looking forward to reading more from you.
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