1 comments/ 14478 views/ 1 favorites Angel and the Writer Ch. 01 By: Horati0Baccus It was already starting to get cold and Angel had no idea what she was going to do. Her date had been an asshole and she had refused to get in the car with him. Not only was he not her type but he had been drinking and shouldn't have been driving at all. She had not even thought about the day or where she was only that it wouldn't be safe to get in the car with him. Now she stood looking at the transit map. Any other Monday she would have had two more buses she could catch, but this was Labor Day a Holiday schedule and she should have remembered as it was the only reason she had been out on a Monday night. No money for a cab and all her friends with cars were still hours away from the city enjoying the end of the long weekend. She had walked back to the bar hoping the staff would be able to help her but they too had closed early for the holiday. The wind bit at her skin where the short skirt and fish nets left her bare. Had Angel known the sort of night it was to be she would have dressed more reasonably but she hadn't imagined being stranded in a remote neighborhood. Angel resigned herself to walking to the nearest covered bus stop and waiting for the first morning bus to arrive. The neighborhood wasn't bad but it was near some of the less savory parts of town and again she wished she had chosen something less revealing then her purple and black plaid mini and black tank top. Even as she walked she thought about the six hours of cold waiting yet to come and shuddered. The light was broken in the stop which she felt was for the best as she didn't want to be noticed by the police and mistaken for a vagrant or a prostitute but she also thought it made the stop seem colder. Another shudder ran through Angel this time as she sat on the bench. The metal was cold enough to send chills through her despite the skirt. It felt like hours passed but each occasion she dared to check the time but it was never more then fifteen or twenty minutes from the last time. She was about to start calling her friends again when the voice startled her. "You do know the buses are done running for the night don't you?" Angel stared at the man who she had neither seen nor heard approach her out of the darkness. He was over six feet tall, dark haired, and broad. He was wearing a dark suit with a dark colored shirt with a tropical pattern on it. He looked like he had stepped off the screen of some weird 70's psychedelic film. "Do you speak English?" Angel had been so stunned by his sudden and odd appearance that she had sat staring without responding for what must have been over a minute. "Yes and yeah I know I am stranded until the morning bus." The man looked her over again and Angel could tell he was evaluating her outfit. "You're just going to wait here until morning then?" "That was the plan," she hesitated slightly not wanting to show any sign of her degree of desperation for a path out of this shelter, "unless you can get me a ride." "Sorry, born again cyclist." He shrugged and kind of laughed "If you want to crash on my couch I live in the apartments right over here. You'll freeze to death out here." "I'm-m-m," Angel had been about to say 'I'm not sure that's a good idea,' but a swift wind had sent her jaw shivering and as she paused she reconsidered her refusal. "I'm Angel, and thank you." "I'm Tom and its my pleasure." She got up and walked with him toward the buildings behind the bus shelter. As they passed into the light of the building's courtyard she could see the both the suit and the shirt were of a dark blue and again she struck by the way he resembled a drug dealer from an old movie. He opened the front door of the building and she stepped in as he held it thinking that he was at least bettered mannered then the guy she had ditched who had nearly let the bar door hit her in the face in his rush to get his first drink. Tom motioned towards the stairs and she went up gladly enjoying the warmth of being indoors out of the wind. She got up the stairs and looked back at the smiling face now in the clear light. He was dark skinned, not Latin like her, but possibly Italian or Greek mixed. He keyed open the apartment to the right of the stairs. Angel was so happy not to be sitting in the bus shelter anymore she didn't look at the number on the door. The old pleather couch was comfy enough she thought as she sat down. There was not much else in the room except for a computer and the desk and chair that went to that. Tom walked back towards what she guessed was his room and came back with a blanket and pillow and set them on one end of the couch. "I'm going to make some tea that should help warm you up." Angel nodded her head and started sorting out the bed makings then went to the bathroom. When she returned a large travel mug full of hot honeyed tea sat near one end of the couch and Tom was seated at the computer desk typing away. "So are you a web-insomniac?" Angel asked as she sipped the tea feeling the warmth fill her. "Nope just a writer, insomnia is a job requirement." She laughed a bit as he continued to type frantically. She wanted to ask what he wrote but also didn't want to annoy him or distract him so she drank down her tea as quickly as the temperature allowed and lay down. Angel had no idea how long she lay there under that blanket listening to the keys clicking under his fingers before she realized that the typing was echoing oddly and her skin tingled. She let her eyes open and odd shifting patterns hovered around the edges of her vision and she decided she might need to pee again. As she stood up the room kind of dipped and the walls breathed. She wondered if she was getting sick from being in the cold and went to the bathroom again. She walked very slowly back from the bathroom stopping every few seconds because the hardwood floors no longer seemed entirely solid to her, it rippled each time she put her foot down and the more steps she took the farther the couch seemed. Tom was standing next to her. "You all right?" He said with an odd grin twisting his face. She tried not to think of a shark, but the blue suit and bared teeth made it hard. "I don't think so." Angel watched as he seemed to grow even taller. "Not use to shroom tea I guess." Tom put an arm around her shoulders and Angel nodded not sure if she understood what was being said or if it made sense. "Come on. We'll get you more comfortable." She walked with him desperately wanting to be more comfortable as it currently seemed like she could feel each and every fiber of fabric touching her as a single feather tickling each skin cell it made contact with. "I don't do drugs." She felt she should explain this as she realized what the statement about the tea entailed and wondered why he had not warned her about the tea. "Shroom tea isn't a drug its all natural." He said as he pushed open a door to a dark room and led her inside. "Oh." To Angel the odd shapes of furniture and shadows melted into the bizarre patterns of colors and she was not sure if this made her more comfortable. Tom guided her to the bed and helped her settle into it before moving away to close the door. Angel writhed in the sheets feeling the new sensations coursing through her and hearing odd sounds she didn't understand. The bed swayed and shifted under her and suddenly she realized Tom had not left the room when he closed the door. He slid under the covers next to her and immediately his hands began lifting the tank top off her body. She was so lost in the strangeness of the touch of another person under the influence of this tea that what was happening seemed to lose its meaning. It didn't matter that this strange older man was pealing off her clothes or that she could feel his naked erection through her fishnets all the mattered was the strange new way these sensations were causing her to react. Her breaths were shuddery and she felt incredibly light and her nerve endings seemed to become electrified where ever he touched her. It was as Tom pulled the thong out from under her skirt that some clear idea of what was happening dawned on Angel. She was drugged and in bed with a strange man wearing nothing but her skirt and fishnets. As his fingers parted her labia and slid inside her she tried to make some protest but her mind couldn't find the words that would explain how or why this needed to stop. All her mouth seemed capable of doing was gasping and moaning in a way that clearly went against the arguments her mind was forming. "I told you I'd make you comfortable." The shark-man was smiling again now as he knelt between Angel's legs. In the dark all she could see was the broad line of his teeth. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist and his hands were holding her legs up under her knees. His slow entry into the warm channel between her legs sent a fire of excited tactile sensations through her body as her mind tried once more to form protest and send out the alarms to the legs and arms. She needed to push him off, tell him no at the very least and yet her mind just couldn't find the way around all the new things it was perceiving to decide if what it wanted to protest was even really happening. His hips bucked against her filled her with deep primal pleasure as her mind raced with fear. The chemicals in her brain made her want to writhe against him, against anything she touched, and she did only adding to her own pleasure and confusion. Tom pumped into her harder and faster bringing her body closer to the peak it sought. As her body clenched in a violent orgasm her vision burst with more swirling shifting patterns and his animal grunts became more savage. She dared not open her eyes. The noise alone told her that she would not see a man above her but some beast ravaging her and real or not she knew could not handle it. The fear had her completely in the aftermath of her own pleasure. She stayed behind her eyelids watching the swirling colors and trying not to think about the growls and moans coming from above her or the redoubling pleasure she felt even as her fear crippled her mind further. He pulled out and turned her over on her stomach. She let him pull her up on her knees and felt him push back into her now literally ramming himself into her and pulling her hips into each pounding thrust. She heard her self crying out loudly not the pleas she wanted to unleash but more of her own primal cries of lust. As his shaft stiffened in her and hot blasts of seed erupted inside her she gave into a second orgasm. Tom left her there her skirt around her waist and her face down in the pillows. Angel tried to wrap her head around the situation and still couldn't. Even the cum running down her thigh didn't seem to make it real. She writhed in the blankets not bothering to dress or look for her phone. He was typing again in the other room and she could hear that and some how that made her think every thing had gone back to normal. The typing stopped after a while and Tom came back and fucked her again this time cumming on her chest before returning to his typing. When the typing stopped after that he came back to sodomize her. Each time he returned she knew what was about to happen but was too confused in her hallucinatory state to stop him or protest. Each time he pushed in her, her body writhed against him driving her own pleasure despite her fear and confusion. When she finally passed out she could tell if she had fucked been eight times or eighteen. Angel awoke on the bench at a train station far from the bar she had been at the previous evening. Morning commuters were all looking at her as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She could feel the soreness and stickiness all over her body telling her it had been real, but now could only think of getting home getting showered and getting into her own bed. The shrooms were fading but not yet out of her system and being around all these people was making her nervous. When she awoke again around mid-day it was to her phone. He had set a an alarm with a message of a web address. She went to her computer and found at the website a story so familiar she could still hear the key strokes of each letter as she read down to this final line. Angel and the Writer Ch. 02 The streets did not change nor did the buildings that lined them. The sidewalks had all the same the cracks and the bus shelters on them had the same graffiti every time Angel passed them. She had walked this long stretch of road time and time again since she had been drugged and raped in an apartment on this street; none of the geography changed but two weeks ago there had been apartments just behind a sheltered bus stop and now there were only warehouses and no sheltered stops at all. She knew it had happened all of it. The hallucinogenic tea may have altered her perceptions but she had clearly remembered washing semen off of her thighs, ass, and chest. She remembered the task alarm her assailant had set on her phone before leaving her on a train platform. She remembered inputting the number string, that was the text of the task message, into her web browser and finding the story he had written while raping her which of course detailed said violation. She remembered the three days of sore muscles. All her memories did not change the facts though and it scared Angel beyond her imagination to believe she was going mad. Not only did the apartments and bus shelter not exist but neither did the task alarm or website. She had taken her phone to specialist who said that no task had been set for that date on her phone. The domain for the website was unregistered and according to all her research never had been registered. Her browser history didn't even indicate she had visited the site. Angel could handle being given a mind altering drug and viciously raped but the idea that her mind would fabricate such an incident with so many supporting memories was beyond her capacity. She had gone back there to find Tom, not in the hopes of getting him arrested or avenging herself but to ask him to please take down the website before anyone she knew happened across it. Two weeks she had searched only to continue to find what she had discovered on her first return. If the apartments, bus shelter, and website were not real then the events they related to also could not be real; and if events she had clear and detailed memories of were not real then how could she trust any of her other memories. Angel had spent her nights pondering this question and shamefully pleasuring herself to the the very memories she questioned. She had not slept more then an hour a night. Her course work at school was slipping and her manager at the restaurant had sent her home early two nights ago and told her to get some rest. She sat on the bus heading back to her home when she was received the text. Answers @ Front and Sampson Ave. The originating number was 866-2583. She tried to call it and wasn't surprised to get an automated error response. On a hunch she entered it into a text window in predictive mode; 'tom blue' it read. Fear and anxiety gripped her mind and all of her body felt hollow. Tom, the writer, the man in the blue suit, the predator, the rapist; she thought of him in so many ways but always with this dreadful sense that she was falling through infinity itself. She pulled the cord and got off the bus. The text had come only 5 blocks from the stop nearest the intersection. Angel was alert with terror as every shadow on the street seemed to suggest a large man in a suit was casting it from right behind her. As she walked on ward she realized that her destination was going to take her under the shadow of the interstate. The dark crumbling industrial neighborhood felt dangerous enough so near the river and shot through with railroad tracks both derelict and active but beneath the interstate was shadowy recess of concrete columns and unseen niches. Places to hide; places to be pulled into; places where no one would see what happen to you. Her mind screamed for her to run back to the bus stop and go home before she walked into this monster's trap again. Her feet moved onward as though there was some primal instinct telling them that there was nothing back there now; no bus stop; no escape; nothing but what lay ahead. Angel no more then crossed into the shadows when she felt the hands grab her and push her hard into the nearest concrete column. She braced her hands against the pillar and screamed out "Don't hurt me!" "Angel, you know damn well I'm going to do what I want. Pants? Really?" Tom's voice drifted over her shoulder as he held his body against her struggling form using his own size to keep her pinned while his hands reached down and began undoing the buttons of her jeans. "Tom, please... I jus-" "You just wanted to know if I was real or not." He forced her the jeans down to her knees as he leaned down to whisper against her ear. His lips brushed her skin as he spoke and his hot breath washed over her face. "I think you'll find," his hand tore her panties apart, "I'm unquestionably," Angel felt one arm press across her shoulders holding her pinned and as she heard a zip the fight left her, "real." He used his knee to pry her legs as far apart as half dropped jeans would allow as he positioned the head of his cock against her lips without preparation or prelude. The hard upward thrusts made her scrape her hands against the rough column and she was so intent on not letting her face suffer similar abuse that she found herself thrusting back against him. She cursed him and herself in as many languages as she knew under her breath and he laughed between his moans. She had come to his call and she was his to use and even as she swore at him she had to spite herself for her body was as consumed with pleasure as her mind was with fear and hatred. It was rough and savage and painful and at the same time animal and decadent and her body seemed to delight in this intersection and every brutal thrust was met with her own push back and it was not long before she was crying her pleasure into that forsaken echo chamber. "Oh fuck, oh, oh Ah!" Her own voice rung back at her from every corner bombarding her with her own desire laden voice from every direction only to be drowned out by his laughter and moans. "Am I real?" "Yes!" "Is this real?" "Yes!" He pulled out quickly and grabbed her spinning her around pushing her down to her knees, hard. She felt his hand grab her hair and pull her forward opening her mouth and accepting the throbbing shaft still soaked in her own orgasmic dampness. It wasn't much a few strokes of her tongue and he his member twitched and stiffened between her lips and soon her mouth was full of hot sperm. He pumped her head back and forth a few times after his orgasm had passed and Angel dutifully swallowed around him. He finally let her go after shoving his softening penis to the back of throat making her gag before pushing her back so that shoulders slammed against the column behind her. "You don't find me; I find you when want you." She heard him zip up and heard his footsteps echoing away. Angel did not look up for fear that showing her face would only tempt him back again. Two hours later after a rape kit complete with throat culture and all the embarrassing questions about her sexual habits she was talking to her third doctor. "Would you call your masturbation chronic?" "What the hell does that have to do with my having just been raped?" "Why do you believe you were raped?" "Because I was!" "Dr Hallus, the o-bee who just saw you," he prefaced with a sigh before looking at the notes in front of him, "says it doesn't look like you've had sex in at least three weeks but that your genitalia shows the kind of rawness consistent with frequent and aggressive masturbation. Dr. Parker confirms that your throat culture shows no sign of semen. They asked me to talk to you." "Oh god you're a shrink." "No I'm a social worker. If you feel you may need a psychiatric consult I can arrange it but first they wanted me to tell you that based on the medical evidence if insist on reporting an assault to the police that you could be charged with filing a false report." "I want to go home." "Are you sure you don't want to talk to the on-call psychiatrist?" "Can I go home." "One of the nurses wanted to recommend lotion for you to treat yourself with." He placed a piece of paper on the instrument tray between and left her to take off the examination gown and and dress herself. She cried because she knew Tom was real and if he was real and reality told her otherwise then reality was wrong and she was truly mad. Angel and the Writer Ch. 03 The Driver's Seat Part 1 Intro to Humiliation It had been a very long term but it was almost over. Angel sat in front of her computer typing the final words of her last paper to be turned in the next day. She had been nearly failing most of her classes at mid-term and had only by the grace of her keen mind and her shining academic record managed to salvage all her courses. It had been three months since what she liked to call her break down and while she had not forgotten what had happened (hadn't happened) she was able to stop thinking about it and letting it keep her from sleep and study. She had no way to explain the events except that even though all evidence pointed to the fact that they never happened she knew she had not imagined them. A man named Tom (who did not exist) had (not) raped her on two occasions in as many weeks. For a month afterward she tried to piece together how something could be so real and vivid in her mind when no evidence existed that it happened or indeed that the place where it happened the first time was in fact real. Angel had not been a virgin by any standard prior to her first encounter with Tom and had in fact been taken by force before and had thought herself a survivor capable of withstanding any mental trauma. She had not been prepared for the mind bending experience of clearly remembering something that happened even though everything in the world said it had not. For a month she resigned herself to the fact that she had lost her mind, what else could you call it when you knew things to be real that were not supported by reality. She lost her job, she rarely went to classes, turned in a few assignments via the internet, and mostly stayed in her bedroom. Finally her academic adviser came to her home. Sitting down over some coffee (Angel had given up tea) her adviser explained that her professors were willing to except that she had undergone some severe stress but that she needed to buckle down and bring her course work back to standard. Angel decided that after all she had worked for to get this far it hardly seemed in her nature to let a little thing like insanity stop her from getting her degree. As she finished her last paper for Dr. Albigin she felt relieved that she was one term closer to her degree. "You know I really wondered if you'd pull it off after what I put you through but you really are a trooper." Angel felt her spinal fluid turn to ice as the voice drifted over her shoulder. She didn't move, she didn't breath. Time stretched on around her and that hollow limbed falling sensation filled her body and waves of fear spread in a current across her synapses. "Come on Angel; say something helpless." "Please go away Tom." She had meant to sound to firm and confident, which was how she had always felt before he had come into her life, sadly she had obeyed his command and sounded utterly helpless. The computer's screen saver cut on and the dark background revealed him clearly reflected standing over her shoulder. The looming predator in his midnight blue polyester suit and tropical blue shirt. She watched as his reflection placed a hand on her reflection's shoulder and felt the gentle pressure as he turned her chair around to face him. The smile was somehow doting but laced with cruelty. The hand not on her shoulder lifted her chin and raised her face to him. She watched as his deep dark eyes loomed ever closer until finally his lips pressed to hers and for the first time she felt the kiss of the man who had twice ravaged her. The kiss was long passionate and forceful but somehow comforting and fulfilling. As he pulled away Angel realized that she had in fact returned the kiss as naturally as she had with any previous lover. She took a deep breath keeping her eyes closed as they had been during the kiss. "You're driving me crazy." "It's good you know who's in the driver's seat Angel but I'm gonna take you way past crazy before this ride is over." His hand stroked her cheek gently, "Look at me." Her eyes opened as though his words had spoken directly to the nerves in her eyelids. "Just do it quickly, I have a paper to turn in tomorrow morning." "Now see I thought we just covered who is in charge here." He smiled and his hand ran down her neck over her night shirt softly tracing her breasts before finding the elastic band of her pajama bottoms. "I do what I want Angel; you know that." His hand slipped inside and she parted her legs letting him have what he wanted since she knew he would anyway. "Good girl." His fingers worked slowly into her teasing at first then parting and probing her already dampening sex. "You need to realize how much I control you." She nodded and moaned feeling her muscles tightening around his fingers already. "It's not enough that I can take you when I want. It's not enough that I can make you enjoy what ever I do to you. Its not even enough that you accept me even though everything you see tells you I'm not real." Angel reached out and grabbed his shoulders as his fingers guided her body into the throws of a sudden orgasm. "Oh Tom!" She wanted someone to slap her for calling out the beast's name but it had been so natural as he pleased her once more against her will. "Yes Angel! I need you to realize that you will do whatever I want, whenever I want." He pulled his fingers out of her pajamas and raised them to her lips. She opened her mouth and sucked the fingers clean without hesitation. "So tomorrow you will go to Dr. Albigin and tell him your paper will be a day late." Her eyes widened at his demand but he pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth blocking off her ability to voice a protest. "When he tells you that you will be graded as late you will offer to blow him in exchange for his leniency." He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and stood up. Angel was now eye level with his crotch where the bulge of his erection could be seen pressing against the fly of his pants. "Please Tom. I can't. I want to go on to be professor myself one day. I need more then grades; I need their respect. Don't make me do this." "You're going to do it and he's going to agree and since I think he teaches one of the other courses you need to complete your major I wouldn't be surprised if he expects repeat occurrences after this." He was of course right and she knew it. She was expecting him to lower his zipper and make him give her a preview but he merely turned away and walked off whistling a classic rock tune she couldn't quite place. Angel printed her paper and then went to bed where she lay helplessly thinking about how to prepare herself to do what she now saw as Tom's third rape. He had raped her flesh and her mind but now it was her identity he sought to violate. Professor Horace Albigin was known through out the region for his work in linguistics he would be a factor in her career beyond school and if she became his plaything as an undergraduate she would be marked by the shame of it even if no one ever found out. She tried to imagine disobeying Tom but it brought with it intangible terror and that helpless falling sensation. That night she dreamed that she had taken the paper out the print tray and Tom had burst through the door and proceeded to rubber band her paper around the shaft of a large dildo. He then shoved the dildo up her ass and proceeded to fuck her as brutally as he had under the interstate. He finally pulled out the dildo and rolled the paper and fanned the dirty pages out across her belly before cumming on the pages. She awoke after only a few hours rest and was horrified to find herself aroused so deeply that she had little choice to finish what the dream had clearly started. After pleasuring herself Angel took a long bath and tried to mentally prepare herself. She tried not to think of all the names she heard girls who fucked their teachers called but they came to mind anyway. She wondered if Dr. Albigin would keep it quiet; she heard rumors of girls who had sacked one professor for a favor and suddenly half of that department was in on the secret and wanting their piece. She dried and dressed herself in a pair of tight black pants and a dark green tank top topped with a black hoody. She saw no reason to complicate herself with underwear given what was in her near future. The terror she felt as she walked through the campus was twice that she had felt walking towards the shadowy overpass. Though cold and gray her surroundings were familiar and should have been comforting but something about those she passed (even those she knew who waved and smiled) said they knew; they were in on the joke. Something about the familiar buildings being the setting of such a degrading act. She walked down the corridors and up the stairs and with an air of finality stopped in front of the large wooden door. She knocked twice. "Come in." Dr. Albigin's voice came through the door and Angel turned the knob. "Ah Miss Violado, just by the skin of your teeth. " He chuckled and his many chins quivered. Horace Albigin was portly, bald, and almost three times her age. "Then again you've been cutting it close all term I must say." "Still am Dr. Albigin. I had a computer error last night and am going to need another day to get my paper finalized and printed." "Oh dear," she could almost read the glee hidden behind his stern gaze. Angel knew the professor loved the authority he held over his students the power to make them squirm as he held their futures out of reach and she was giving him that opportunity. No, she thought, Tom was giving him the opportunity. "I am afraid Wednesday was the last day to request and extension. I am afraid to be fair I have to grade your paper as late and with your spotty work early in the term I don't think I can give you a passing grade for this term." "I need this course Dr Albigin and you know it." Angel locked on to his beady eyes and let the words fall out of her mouth, "I will seriously suck your dick if you give me an extension." Dr Albigin shamelessly smiled. "Now that is the sort of enthusiasm you rarely hear anymore. " He stood which made little difference as he was not very tall. This pillar of academia shared none of Angel's reservations and had already extracted his pathetic organ before waddling around his desk. Angel unzipped her hoody shrugging it off into the chair and knelt in front of her chair. Even on her knees she had to lean down bumping her head against his fat stomach while he stuffed his flaccid and penis into her open mouth. She spent nearly ten minutes sucking the shaft and tonguing the head before it stiffened even sucking his sagging balls didn't seem to cause much of an change in the sad little member. Finally Angel guessed it had reached its full capacity (which was little bigger then a large man's thumb) as he took hold of her hair and began rocking his hips into her mouth. Normally she discouraged this but as she had no fear of gagging she allowed him to do whatever made him climax the fastest. It seemed the concept of a quick blow was not something a man of Horace's advanced age and poor circulation was capable of; after almost 20 minutes Angel's jaw was near frozen with pain and her scalp was sore from the professor's hair pulling. Finally Dr. Albigin moaned loudly and pulled out aiming his stunted phallus down at her exposed cleavage as he begin pumping out the long earned orgasm. Unlike his cock, the discharge of his semen was more then impressive. By the time he finished her neck and the tops of her breast were splattered thickly with heavy white cum. "I'll expect that paper first thing tomorrow morning along with a further show of gratitude." He said placing the softening thing back to her lips. She sucked the head clean of his bitter seed and let it drop limply from her mouth. Horace smiled at her reaching down and pulling dragging a stubby finger through the sperm on her chest and wiped it across her lips as he re-situated his pants with his other hand. "And tomorrow as I'll be considering your grade on that paper I expect you to show quite a bit of gratitude. I don't normally come in on Saturday's and as such I will have all the day to consider how you should be graded. "Of course professor." The implication was clear; he wanted to fuck her and he wanted to fuck her all day. Angel got up wanting to leave as quickly as possible. She had only pulled the hoody over her shoulders when the knock came at the door. "Come in." The malign man called out and she reflexive spun around as Jason Marcus, one of Dr. Albigin's grad student's, walked in and saw her standing there her breasts and shirt still damp with cum. Angel quickly zipped up and pushed by Jason as she heard the Professor say. "Oh good Jason, I'll need you here tomorrow it seems we have some more grading to do for final papers." "Sure thing Dr. Albigin." Jason responded as Angel rushed down the corridor. The foul seed on her chest was soaking into her hoody and she wanted to get home quickly and bathe while having a cup of strong black coffee to cleanse her palette. Jason Marcus had embarassed her in front of his whole fraternity when they broke up. She had consented to one last roll with him but he had taken the opportunity to fuck her as hard as he could doggie style, take her anally for the first time (despite begging him to stop), cum on her back, and then push her out of his room naked and threw her clothes in the backyard from his window. She had gotten him back by telling a rival fraternity how much he loved to have his asshole fingered (sometimes requesting more then one digit) while being sucked off. It was all over between them after that except the cold stares on campus. Now Jason would have the opportunity to take the upper hand. It was another restless night as she dreamed of Horace and Jason having her in the back of an RV while Tom drove. Her one glimpse out the window showed her a sign that read: NOW LEAVING CRAZY. NEXT STOP: OBLIVION. Part Two: Final Insult Angel's alarm went off around 0730 and she went and showered. Once the water went cold and she still didn't feel clean she got out and toweled off before putting on the clothes lain out on her bed. She had remembered pulling out another modest jeans and sweatshirt outfit but didn't hesitate to pull on her skimpiest thong, a white cropped baby t-shirt (without a bra which left her dark nipples clearly visible) red fishnets and garters, and a red and black pleated version of a cheerleader skirt with d-rings and leather straps hanging from it. She had ordered the skirt several weeks ago online but couldn't remember what had inspired the purchase it wasn't her sort of fashion. Now as she stood dressed in what was possibly the most unseasonable outfit ever, she knew why she had bought it. Looking at the mirror she felt cheap and whorish but at the same time sexy and excited. She hated that she was going to give herself to these men who disgusted her but the idea that she had no choice in the matter seemed to absolve her of the responsibility for what she was about to do and that was very liberating. There was not a moment from her home to Dr. Albigen's door that she did not feel an eye on her. On the bus she sat in the back in the hopes of being less noticed which lead to her being groped by a group of thugs who got on two stops after her. When she stopped in the bathroom in the language arts building to fix her make-up she had seen the janitor watching her and she came out she heard him mutter "Looks like someone's gettin an A." "What did you say?" "I said its gonna be someday, last big cleaning before the break and all." He smiled gently and she almost believed until she saw his eyes tracing her curves, "someday indeed." Angel turned hastily and went upstairs. "Come in." Her knuckles had barely touched the wooden door when Horace called out from the other side. As she entered both him and Jason smiled, both had worn jogging suits, most likely for ease and discretion. "Close the door Angel and lets see your paper." As soon as she closed the door she could hear the whisper of nylon against nylon as the teacher and the student began disrobing. She turned around with the folder and Horace pointed to a tray sitting on a bookshelf, "Put it there; we'll need the desk clear for your presentation." His pudgy pale body was quivering with delight as he gave this scantly clad beauty her orders. She put it in the tray and tried not to look at the two men. Where the teacher small and grotesque Jason was more like an engine built for sex; hard bodied, easily aroused, thick and textured. She knew from experience he could please and punish in equal measure and seemed to enjoy both. "Jason here was telling me that when you were going out he taught you to deep throat by making you lie with your head hanging backwards over the side of the bed," the twisted scholar picked up digital camera from the shelf and pushed a button on it; the little red light to indicate it was recording video was now on, "I'd like to see that. Up on the desk now." Angel did as she was told hanging her head over the back the desk and trying not to think of the throat stretching gagging humiliation of her lessons in oral sex from the man now grinning down on her while he stroked his cock. Horace hovered off to the side fiddling with the camera as Jason lined his engorged member up with her mouth and slid it back and forth; going deeper as she sucked on him diligently until he pushed it to the back of her mouth and she had swallow deeply to let him pass into her throat. With her air cut off Angel could ignore the thrusting and the camera and the lewd commentary, but even as she coped with suffocation her mind could not escape the free falling excitement she felt or the shame it caused her. He pulled out and she coughed and gasped as strings of thick saliva stretched from his cock to her mouth then broke and slapped against her face. He pushed back into her mouth not as slowly this time she gagged slightly before she flexed her throat to allow him to pass. Dr. Albigen handed the Camera to Jason who held her throat with one hand and worked the camera with the other. Horace slipped his puny member into her and half squeeled. "Good lord she's as slick as a corporate lawyer! I do wish I had known how much of whore you were earlier on; I could have enjoyed this kind of treat for some time." "You should have asked, " Jason had pulled out once more and while she wished to protest their claims for the record she was busy coughing and struggling to re-oxygenate before he cut off her airway with his dick yet again, "I could have told you that little Angel is half Cuban, half Irish and 100% whore." with the last word he slipped his head back over her lips and Horace pulled out then slowly worked it into her asshole. Though it didn't hurt like the times when Tom and Jason had sodomized her even Horace's tiny prick was a discomfort in her tight anus. The man held her legs up resting them on his shoulders as he savagely thrust into her calling her every degenerate name that she had ever heard. Suddenly the whole day seemed to stretch onward as considered if she could endure was happening. "Shall we switch." the professor had slipped out and was slightly panting. "Oh hell yeah! I didn't get enough of that ass the first time around." Angel braced herself for the pain and humiliation she was about to endure. It had been 3 years since Jason had sodomized her and was a pain she remembered clearly and she had never had man pull himself out of her asshole and then expect to be sucked off. She had never even considered that they would want her to put in her mouth what they had just taken out of her ass. Jason didn't bother with any preliminaries instead shoving himself to the hilt in her tight bowels and held it there. Angel winced and felt hot stinging tears run from her eyes down her cheeks. He then started grinding hard then pumping soon he was ramming his sizable organ into her guts with the same fervor that Horace had but this time the pain was indescribable as she opened her mouth to beg him to stop Horace pushed his puny bitter dick into her mouth. The professor just stood there operating the camera while Jason ravaged her anally with such vigor that Angel being pushed back and forth on his dick and sobbing moaning around it was enough to keep him stimulated. Angel and the Writer Ch. 03 "Damn this whore is still tight." She could feel Jason's hips slapping hard against her ass as he pushed himself to new heights of urgency. "Don't cum inside her; we've got all day and I don't want to be slopping around your leavings." She felt Jason pull out then hot jets of thick seed splashed across her breasts and stomach as he groaned loudly. The pair traded places again. This time she worked her mouth around Jason's softening prick the taste of her ass sweat and his cum causing her to gag even before he reached the back of her throat. Horace slipped into her barely disturbing the quivering muscles between her legs. As much as her body yearned for release Angel was glad Horace did not provide adequate resistance for those muscles to flex against. She didn't want to come for them; not for this. Angel let her tear slip from her eyes as she realized Jason was even now hardening between her lips and she could not imagine him going all day without plunging that hateful organ into her sex and she knew then that her body would betray her. She would hate herself forever when it happened. Horace pulled out and soon Jason was moving to position himself between her legs as she stared at the stunted phallus of her teacher. His semen was hot heavy as he coated her lips and eyes with it. She was revolted as thick globs blocked her nose and she opened her mouth to gasp he shot his final burst into her mouth. Jason meanwhile seemed to have sensed her worst nightmare and was insuring it was realized. He teased her lips with his head getting a coat of his moisture on him before sliding into her. Her body clenched and gripped the sizable intrusion. "Oh yeah this cunt remembers." He groaned thrusting hard into her sparing her no dignity as he mercilessly fucked her strained body into a screaming release of orgasmic tension. "Good lord; the little slut is cumming hard already." She could hear Horace over her own cries. "Oh yeah. Angel could never control herself," his thrusts didn't slow as he took the time to verbally degrade her, "I used to make her cum so much she would be crying by the time I emptied my first load." Even now she couldn't pause in her breaths to correct him and even if she could she knew it would be untrue. It was one of the reasons she had broken up with him; he liked to fuck her until it literally hurt for her to come. Jason wouldn't even consider sex unless they had two or more hours to spend on it. Even now her multiple orgasms were starting to burn like fires one on top of the other and still she rocked her body into his like a depraved nymph craving more. Finally Jason pulled out walked around to her face spraying even more cum on to her already sticky skin. Angel heard a door open and quickly wiped away her eyes but Jason was blocking her view now holding the camera and smiling crueler then ever at her. "Why are you doing this?" "Because its time you knew what a depraved slut you are and what that tight little body was made to do." He rubbed the head of his flaccid penis against her lips a she opened her mouth to suck him again. Her mouth was sore and sour with the taste of so much foulness, her eyes stung and her skin itched from the drying semen, and her torture had not even been going on for more then an hour. The door opened again. "See Reginald right here, this is something so dirty even you can't clean it up." She heard Horace laugh but couldn't see around Jason's sack. "Damn professor I think you're right. " Angel's heart sank, it was the leering Janitor and she had no doubts as to what was about to happen. "Still seems a shame not to try to put my own polish on it." Jason backed away his dick was barely half hard and he was apparently going to join Horace (who had stripped again and was sitting in his chair) in watching Angel's continued degradation. At the other end of the desk she could see middle aged black man who had mocked her in the halls unfastening his fly. She looked at him pleadingly wanting him to understand she hated what she was doing but she couldn't even convince herself anymore. She wanted to fucked hard and used. Not by them, though it was him, the predator, the defiler, the Monster in the Blue Suit, he swam into her mind every time one them forced his way into her and she heard his laugh every time she came. As Reginald forced his long thick cock into her asshole she realized it wasn't even them raping her now it was still him and it had always been him. From her first time and every man since it had been him behind their eyes and in her mind. The day was long and painful. The three men fucked her constantly spilling their cum on her face and tits at least four times each. In the end they quit when they were all too sore to continue; for her that point had come hours earlier. Her skin was crackled with dry semen and her clothes reeked of sex. Her anus felt torn and her labia raw. She couldn't even move her jaw to call a cab. She sat in the middle of the bus enduring the knowing stares of the other passengers. She got off at the stop just like she planned and was not surprised to see him or the apartments that didn't exist behind him. "You look like you could use a bath and a nice hot cup of tea." She said nothing but followed him. To be Concluded... Angel and the Writer Ch. 04 The Dream and the Dreamer Angel sat down in the tub and sipped at the strangely flavored tea; tears trailing down the dried cum on her cheeks. She had been gang fucked by her professor, her ex-boyfriend, and a janitor and was more sore then she had imagined possible. That was not why she cried. She had likely just condemned herself to a life of academic slutdom in order to keep her video debut from going online. That was not why she cried. Jason, her ex, would likely be calling in a few days (if that long) to have her come perform for his silence. That was not why she cried. The violation she had endured and those to come paled in significance to the weight of the fact that she was currently in a place she knew did not exist. Angel knew this because she had been there before. She had sought refuge from a kind soul only to be drugged and raped by him then left cum covered and sore on a train platform. She had gone back to confront him only to find the whole area completely different. She had then been lured by him to another location with the promise of answers. He again used her body for his gratification and left her confused and ashamed. The doctors at the hospital told her that her body showed no signs of the assault. They thought she was crazy and so did she. Time went by and Angel slowly recovered got back into her school work only to have him confront her in her own apartment demanding that she jeopardize her academic career and engage her professor, a foul pervert named Horace Albigen, sexually to excuse her late work. She could not refuse him and that day she had turned in the late paper and had been used like a trashy whore and sent home on a bus with dried semen flaking off her face. When she got off the bus he was waiting for her; Tom, the man in the blue suit. Behind him were the apartments that didn't exist and that was where she currently sat in a tub of warm water sipping what was surely tea laced with psychedelic mushrooms waiting for Tom to come back in and begin what was sure to be another night (weekend, week, month) of mind shattering sexual violations. She didn't care what he did to her anymore. Angel only wanted to know why she couldn't say no to him. She wanted to know why she did what he wanted without question. She had already accepted that his world was real and her world, where no proof of him seemed to exist, was not real. Now she wanted to know why. As she sat in the tub awaiting answers Angel could hear the constant click-clack of Tom at his computer. He had claimed to be a writer but Angel knew better now. He was a monster, a demon, a predator, and he controlled her. She had read one of his stories, it had been the story of him raping her in the bedroom down the hall while her mind was warped by the mushroom tea he had given her. She didn't know if he was starting the story of what he had in store for her or putting the finishing touches on his draft of what had already happened to her that day; neither would have surprised Angel. She washed her face and her body paying special and delicate attention to her raw orifices. She didn't know what Tom had planned but Angel knew it was going to hurt like nothing she had ever felt before. As Angel got of the tub and wrapped her naked body in the towel she felt taller and less steady and knew that it was just the initial onset of the drugs in the tea. Things seemed less whole less real and at the same time more so. She still could not understand her relationship to Tom or how he controlled her but now it didn't matter. Her pains were beginning to mount and muddle with the remembered orgasms that had been a product of the pain. Angel walked out of the bathroom to find Tom standing in the door with a pitcher of tea. She held out her cup to be refilled. "Are you done writing?" "No my Angel, if I were done writing you would be dead." "So you're going to kill me?" "Did I say that?" "You said if you were done writing I would be dead." "I did say that." Tom smiled and Angel drank more tea, forgetting that this tea did nothing to settle nerves. Tom slipped his fingers under the towel where she had tucked it in and pulled it away from her body. She let it fall with a sigh and drank from her tea cup. Angel happily let her mind detach from the world but as his hand connected with the skin of her breast she was immediately drawn to the reality of the contact. The world around her swam as though everything was painted with oil upon the ocean but his hand upon her breast the other sliding between her legs they were solid, as was Tom. "Please Tom, explain it to me. I know you're real and the world I know is a lie but I need to know more I need to understand why I can't defy you." His finger pushed into her roughly and all the day's soreness evaporated in a pulse of desire. She felt as ripe and ready as if she hadn't been layed in a month or more. The surges of pain were all gone replaced the cruel caresses of his digit buried in her flesh. "How," Angel moaned as she reached out and clung to this man who controlled and abused her in a way no other had before. He pushed her hard against the wall and shoved a second finger inside her. "Angel, why ask questions; why do you need to know more then that you belong to me?" He pumped his fingers in and out of her tight warm body. Even as the wall seemed to become gelatinous his fingers became more rigid. "Please I can't go on living not knowing who I am or why I do these things. Oh god." his fingers hooked slightly caressing her most sensitive places. "What if telling you meant you would cease to live for any other purpose but to serve my twisted whims? The only existence you would know is as the subject of my dark fantasies from the moment you discover what you are." "What I am?" Angel tried to wrap her head around the idea as he pulled out his fingers and began undoing his pants. What was she. A repressed slut, a reluctant submissive, a confused young woman; any of those fit but none of them seemed to hold the answers. Her mind suddenly emerged from this fog as the head of his cock brushed her labia. "Please Tom, I don't understand." The bulb tip of his prick spreading her moisture along her ready passage as he teased her with what she hatefully desired. "Right now," his voice was a growl he began forcing his organ into her tight body, "I don't need you to understand." Angel strained at the feeling of him spreading her body open and realized something horrifying and impossible. She was a virgin. She had fucked three men earlier that day and been deflowered in her youth but as she could feel her body stretching and tearing against him she knew that he was about to part a hymen that had long ago been destroyed. "Tom please, not again!" It was over as soon she said it he had torn her as she had been torn apart so long ago and now there was nothing but the moaning and pumping. Her body was trembling with fear and confusion but her legs snaked around him regardless and he held her up by her ass slamming himself deeper and harder into her blood slicked passage. He braced her hard against the rippling wall and thrust quick forceful drives into her torn body while she sobbed on the brink of insanity and orgasm. "Please tell me, Tom. Pleaseeee." Her first orgasm took her as she begged he continued to rock her tender muscles through the next three until finally she felt his hot sperm fill her insides. He pulled out letting her slide down the wall sobbing to sit in a puddle of her juices and his. Finally she looked up at him. Tom was stepping out of his pants as she watched. "Tell me Tom... how did you make me a virgin again? Why do you control me? What are you? What am I? " "Open." He stepped toward her his softening shaft dripping with blood, cum, and juices of her pleasure. She opened her mouth started sucking him the moment he spoke. "I am a writer, I told you this when we first met. I can make you do anything I want, be anything I want, and I can make you enjoy it all because I am a writer." His cock was stiffening in her mouth as he spoke. Angel was confused but excited; even though it didn't make sense she knew what he was telling her was the answer. His hands grabbed her hair pulling her mouth to engage him deeper. "Your world does not accept my existence for the same reason you cannot deny it. Which is the same reason you can't defy my will. Which is because I am a writer." His rigid flesh pushed into her throat gagging her and choking her as he groaned with excitement. "Yes... so good." He pulled her head back and forth her body and mind shivered with excitement as she could feel him ready to divulge the final secret. Her mouth worked furiously around him sure that he would share his truth when he shared his seed. She wanted it in her mouth and in her mind his truth and finally he twitched and pulled back from her throat spraying the first shots over her tongue then he continued to draw back his continued discharge splattering across her face. He panted, looking down at her, "I am a writer and you are a fictional character that I have created to fulfill my every sexual fantasy. Your world only exists to subject you to degradations that I wish you to endure. You will never age and your life will be nothing more then a series of depraved and violent sexual encounters to sate my lusts and all because I am the writer who made you."