Not The One

Chapter One: The Beginning
by sammo_00

I masturbate on a daily basis. There is no shame in me for admitting that. It is quite a natural thing for someone to do, and I just happen to excel at it. But then, when you go months and months without what your body craves the most, you tend to find these…imaginative ways of dealing with the intense longing.

Maybe it hadn’t really been months. But it certainly felt like it. Not that my first time had been anything completely mind-shattering and marvelous. Far from it, to be honest. He was 24; I was 17. He was a professor at a community college and I was a soon to be student at that college. We met online in a chat room.

Afterwards he tried to make things ‘official’ with me. Official. What’s that word really mean? “Oh sweetie, I want you and only you and I will never think of another woman again.” Psh. Yeah right. It wasn’t so much that though as I just didn’t really want the guy. So I guess you could say I used him.

But I’d had my taste of sex. Not a great thing to begin with, but everyone told me it got better and besides, I felt…desired. Not a feeling I was too familiar with, and I liked it. I wanted more of it.

When I finally got it, however, it was nowhere near what I thought it was going to be. In fact, it was everything I had hoped it would never be.

The day had finally arrived. After months of tense anticipation, of flared tempers, of angry confrontations, the day was here and I was totally oblivious to it. Well not totally oblivious. It just wasn’t the most important thing on my mind at that moment.

A song by The Killers was blasting on my stereo, mostly blocking out the thumps and random grunts coming from the hallway outside of my room. Every now and then I could feel a slight tremor as the front door slammed but for the most part, I ignored it. What I was focused on was this intense heat between my legs.

Before attending to it, I glanced over at my door, making sure it was shut. Didn’t need anyone looking in and seeing what I was doing.

It may have looked as though I was just lying there enjoying the breeze from my fan on my naked skin. Yes, I was naked. It happens when it’s almost 100 outside and your house doesn’t have central air. Besides, the fan was keeping the sweat at bay. But like I said, I was focused on something else.

My imagination was in full overdrive; imagining what these three amazing guys I worked with would do if they happened to walk in my door. Matt, Denny and Peter. Three of the most mouth watering morsels of male specimens I had ever seen and I had the intense pleasure of working with all three of them on close to a daily basis.

Matt would take control. He’d stride over, ripping off his shirt to expose his slightly defined muscles and roughly shove two fingers inside of me. He’d grin, his white teeth contrasting starkly with his dark skin, then lean down and start licking me with slow deliberate strokes.

Denny and Peter would hesitate. I bet though, that Peter would break first, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow above his strikingly bright green eyes. He’d walk over, also pulling off his shirt, and grab one of my heaving breasts, then bend down to bite it gently. Finally Denny would crack, gulping around his Adam’s apple. He was tall and skinny, though not gangly. He’d reach forward and grab my other breast, shyly massaging it until I moaned and forced his hand down harder on me.

Then as if on cue they would stop and Matt would grab me and flip me over on top of him. As I looked him in the face, he’d ease me down until his cock was fully encased in my tight cunt. Before I would say anything, Peter would shove his dick deep in my exposed ass. Then they’d start pumping, long deep strokes that took me right to the edge each time.

Not to be left out, Denny would walk over hesitantly until I beckon to him to lower his pants and kneel over Matt. Then I’d take him deep in my mouth and he’d moan with pleasure.

I was so immersed in my ministrations that I didn’t hear my tightly closed door squeak softly as it opened, nor a soft gasp of surprise. In retrospect, I guess I should have seen it coming, but one always wants to think the best of people. My mistake.

I could feel the pressure mounting inside me as my fingers worked my body to climax. The blood pounding in my ears masked the soft tread of shoes upon my floor, as well as a strange swishing sound, but there was no way I could ignore the hand that grabbed mine and pulled me roughly into a sitting position.

My eyes flew open, as did my mouth. But as soon as the thought to scream crossed my mind, something fell over my face and was tightened around my head, effectively silencing me. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating, but then I realized there was no way I was crazy enough to hallucinate this.

Two of the movers were in my room. My room! Also known as my sanctuary, my heaven, my haven. The one holding my hand to his chest had short blonde hair, buzzed very close to his head. His face was long, his nose regal, with a small cleft in his firm chin. It was almost hidden by the small beard growing there, but just barely visible. His clear blue eyes were shadowed by thick dark blonde eyebrows and his right ear had a hoop in it. To be honest, if it weren’t for the fact that he was in my room and I was close to passing out from fear, I would have thought the guy cute.

As it was, my heart was beating so fast that I thought it was going to jump right out of my chest and run down the hall. I became aware of a presence to my right and started turning my head to look, but the guy holding me grabbed my chin and forced my head back around, making me look in his eyes. Oddly, he looked scared out of his mind. Why should he be scared? I thought. He’s not the one being held captive by some stranger in his room.

“Hey there,” he said. His voice was deep and a little scratchy. It almost made tingles travel the length of my spine. Almost.

I muttered something through the gag and made as though to yank my hand away but he anticipated that and tightened his grip. It was now quite painful and I could feel my fingers going numb. I stared at him pleadingly, my eyes beginning to sting with the onset of tears.

“Don’t worry bitch,” he muttered. “I won’t be hurting you too much.” Like that was a comfort. His blue eyes slowly traveled from my face down to my heaving chest and a slight smile graced his thin lips before it was gone. Suddenly, he pushed me backwards and I landed flat on my back, narrowly missing hitting my head on the headboard. “Don’t look away from me bitch, or I’ll hit you, ok?” he growled, leaning forward. Even if I had wanted to, I couldn’t make a sound. The gag and his weight on my stomach was making it difficult to breath, so I settled for closing my eyes and hoping against hope that this was just a horrible dream.

Then I felt my arms get jerked up and my eyes flew open again. The guy had produced some sort of scarf thing, I couldn’t see it very well, and was tying my arms to the posts of my bed. I started freaking, trying to toss this guy off of me, but he must have weighed about 180 pounds and as he was fully settled on my stomach, there wasn’t much I could do. My first thrust took him by surprise however, and he almost toppled off me, but he quickly regained his balance and settled his weight on me forcefully, pushing the breath out of me almost painfully.

My eyes were almost popping out of my skull. I could feel it! There it was. Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is. This is a horrible nightmare. Why can’t I wake up? Wake up!

But I wasn’t waking up and that hard length pressing against my stomach wasn’t going away. And if I was any judge of character, this guy was planning on using it.

“Hi Mary, I’m Jack,” the guy said, trying for a grin but it was as though his face wasn’t working right. He couldn’t quite get the smile to turn up, and that glint of fear I saw in his eye earlier was back. “We’re gonna get to know each other real well in the next couple of minutes.” I could only stare at him, hatred evident in my eyes because he laughed harshly.

He pushed back until he was sitting on my thighs, his eyes raking over my body. I instinctively tried to pull my arms down to cover my body but as they were tied to my bed, that was quite impossible to do. Jack reached forward and gently traced a finger around my right nipple. To my extreme shame, it almost immediately hardened and I heard a snort to my right. Again I tried to turn my head to look, and once again Jack grabbed my chin and forced my head back before I could see who was standing there. He had a dangerous glint in his eye now; all trace of the fear was gone. He took a deep breath, almost as though he was hardening his resolve, then leaned forward, his face mere inches from my own. If I wasn’t gagged, I would have spat in his face.

“If you want to live, don’t look anywhere but me,” he ordered in a harsh whisper. My eyes widened even more and I whimpered, tears now falling fast and thick down my face. I started struggling again, much more than before. I almost got one leg free but Jack hissed and, reaching forward, grabbed my throat with his free hand. I stopped moving immediately and just stared at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but I heard someone clear their throat and he shut his mouth again.

“You’ve only got fifteen more minutes,” a voice whispered from my right. As badly as I wanted to see who else was here, witness to my shame and attack, I was more afraid of being strangled to death. Jack nodded without looking to his left and then sat back on my thighs. His two large callused hands swept up the side of my body and came to rest just under my breasts. I whimpered again and shut my eyes. Maybe if I shut my eyes, it won’t really happen.

I could feel his hands just sitting there, the warmth almost burning my skin. I could feel the roughness of his jeans on my legs and his shoelace was pressing a weird indentation on my leg where he had hooked it over my calf. I could hear his heavy raspy breathing and smell the acrid scent of cigarette smoke. But most of all, I could feel his length pressing cruelly against my thigh, as though to mock me of my previous thoughts. His hands clenched convulsively and I winced; his nail had dug into my skin a little too much. I felt his weight shift and then I almost gasped in surprise when I felt the warmth of a tongue slide over the mark he had left on my chest. My eyes almost popped open when that tongue slid up my breast to my painfully stiff nipple and a warm mouth closed over it, tugging gently and sending jolts of pleasure right through my body. I could almost feel my body start to relax and instantly, I went rigid again.

The mouth stopped tugging on my nipple but I could feel his other hand slide down my body to the junction between my legs. I tried to close my legs but he was too fast and slid his knee in between them to keep them open. At the first gentle touch on my wetness, I almost passed out from fear. But this guy didn’t seem like he was just going to rape me. I mean, yes he was going to rape me, but it seemed as though he didn’t want to make it too painful for me. What is going on?

“Just hurry the fuck up,” came that whispering voice again. I felt Jack shift his weight again and then heard a zipper come undone. My eyes flew open and I stared at Jack with pure unadulterated fear in my eyes. I tried sitting up again, the fear giving me a brief jolt of adrenaline, but Jack just reached forward and pushed me back down. He had me effectively pinned on my bed as I couldn’t use my arms to push me up. My eyes were drawn to what he was holding and I started whimpering, the tears falling again.

It should be illegal to have a dick that big. Really. Not that I had extensive experience, but there was no way that thing was real. It was huge. Purple at the tip with a large pulsing vein traveling the length, down the nest of hair that his equally large balls were nestled in. It had to have been nine inches in length and his hand just barely fit around it. I moaned low in my throat and looked at him pleadingly, my eyelashes matted with tears.

That glint of fear flashed in his eyes again, now coupled with what I thought was sadness. But I had to have been wrong. Who is sorry about raping a girl while they’re doing it? It doesn’t happen that way. Instead, I saw his mouth form the word sorry as he drew back. In an instant, I understood why they had left my stereo on repeat mode.

I screamed and screamed behind the gag, even though I didn’t produce much sound. It felt as though my entire body was splitting in two. There was blood running down my legs, I could feel it pooling under me. And it hurt. The pain was so all-encompassing that it was almost pleasurable. Almost. All the fight went out of me and I went limp, my head hanging against my arms as I sobbed through the gag. Then he started thrusting.

I had thought that I couldn’t endure any more pain but this was like nothing I had ever felt before, or even dreamt about. Each movement was like liquid fire in my body. I shuddered, the pain about to make me pass out. I could feel it thudding in my bones, and I even imagined I could actually hear my flesh ripping apart as he thrust in me with wild abandon. Then he groaned and shuddered, collapsing on me with a grunt. Again, another new pain. It felt as though he had injected acid inside me, though I knew exactly what it was. I moaned again, a piteous sound and just kept trying to move spasmodically. I was on the verge of passing out when I felt something that made my blood run cold and the fear returned, stronger than ever before.

The cold metal of a knife was pressed against my throat. I stopped shifting and forced my eyes open, looking to my right but try as I might, whoever was holding the knife remained out of sight.

Jack stirred and looked up, then bolted to a sitting position.

“Chuck, what are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes now open with unmistakable fear.

“What we have to do,” that voice said, but this time, there was a definite quiver in the voice.

“This is crazy,” Jack said low, his eyes darting from the knife to me to the man holding it, presumably Chuck. I just laid there, unable to articulate any sound, trying to maneuver my body away from the knife but with every motion a shooting agony, it was near impossible.

“I know it is man, but we gotta. You heard her!” Chuck whispered. Jack looked really scared now; his pupils were dilated and his nostrils were flared. The knife shook, almost piercing my skin, then it was pulled away. I finally managed to get my head turned around and got a good look at the other guy.

Chuck was a big guy, one of those movers that you just have to wonder why they are so fat even though they do heavy work all day long. His stomach stuck out over his pants, and his white shirt was completely soaked through with dirty sweat. His pudgy cheeks almost hid his beady eyes, and he had almost no hair, save for three strands in the very middle of his shiny dome. His eyes were also shining with fear, and the hand holding the knife was shaking.

I mumbled something and they both looked at me. I shook my head and looked at them pleadingly but they seemed too scared to even acknowledge me.

“I heard her,” Jack snarled. “That bitch. This is fuckin’ crazy!” He leaned back and slid out of me with a soft plop. If I had thought that would make the pain go away, I was sorely mistaken. The pain returned in full force, feeling as though someone had rubbed salt into my wounds. My sight was almost gone due to the tears, but I could tell that Jack looked angry now, as well as scared. “I’m not gonna be a part of this. I can’t do it,” he said, putting himself away and getting up on his knees. If it weren’t for the immobilizing pain, I would have tried to knee him, but I don’t think I could if I tried.

“You have to man,” Chuck whimpered. “If you don’t, you don’t know what she’s capable of!” He screwed his eyes up and stood there, his chest heaving.

Jack scoffed and shook his head. “This is utter bullshit and you know it Chuck! She can’t make us do anything,” Jack said forcefully.

“That’s what you think,” a third voice broke in, and in the ensuing silence it was easy to hear the hammer of a .45 clicking back. Jack’s eyes opened wide and he turned slowly to his left.

There was a revolver pressed against his temple, hammer cocked back. I couldn’t see much, but it appeared as though the gun was loaded. I moaned, deep in my throat.

“Chuckie pie, you’re gonna do it, or I’m gonna shoot your dear little friend here, understood?” the third person said, the voice oddly neutral. There was something oddly familiar about the hand gripping the revolver, but it didn’t register in my overwrought mind. The last thing I remember before falling into blackness was an odd crushing sound and an intense pain shooting through my face.

A/N: This is a rewrite of one of my older stories. I got the urge to work on it (after two years) and when I was trying to add to it, I found I couldn't make it work so I decided to rewrite it. If you're interested in the original, it's titled Inevitable Change in the Erotica section. I know this starts off bad but if you read the other one, you'll have a general idea of why I decided to place this in the Romance section. Please, let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated!