Dark Dreamer: Coed's Slave Girl Fantasy 1 [MMMMMf/
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL: RAPE/BONDAGE/DOMINATION/WATER/GANG BANG
Copyright 1991 All rights reserved
This is the story of a young Coed who has lewd carnal fantasies about
being a slave girl in medieval times. She decides to bring her fantasies
to life by arranging for a powerfully built weightlifter to role play
with her at a friend's cottage. The weightlifter brings along half
a dozen muscular friends, and the coed really gets into it. But when the
weekend is over she finds the role playing has become real.
I hope you don't think I'm some kind of a pervert after you
read this. I mean, I consider myself to be more or less a normal
girl. Well... actually, I consider myself to be a little above
average. After all, I've been a straight A student all my life and
am in one of the finest universities in the country on a full
I've never been the kind to sleep around. But that wasn't
because I didn't want to. It was more because I didn't want to get
a reputation as a slut. I had too much dignity for that.
Unfortunately, along with my dignity comes a much higher than
average sex drive.
I lost my virginity very early in my teens. I wasn't forced,
or convinced, or drugged or drunk, far from it. I made a conscious
decision, picked out the guy I wanted to deflower me, and set
Unlike most girls, I didn't lose my cherry in the back seat of
a car under a grunting, groaning idiot. I lost mine in my own
living room in front of a crackling fireplace with a guy who knew
his way around a girl's body.
Maybe that was why I became so fascinated with every aspect of
sex. Also, the guy was much older than me, and much, much bigger,
which may be where I developed my love of big, muscular men.
I know a lot of girls don't think much of the big muscular
guys, you know, the ones that really work at it and bulge with
muscles all over. They like smaller, slimmer guys like Mel Gibson.
Not me. I've always had a thing for big guys with lots of muscles
and few brains.
Of course, being as smart as I am, most guys are dumber than
me, and being as small as I am, most of them are bigger. That's
been mostly enough until lately, but after I entered college and
began studying my major, which is the European dark ages, my
fantasies about big muscled men became stronger and stronger.
I suppose I should describe myself at this point. My name is
Julie Conners. I'm just over five foot two and weigh about ninety
five pounds. I have a really nice body, with a really nice tight
little ass and big round breasts that despite their size(38DD),
don't sag an inch.
I have a sweet little heart shaped face with a small upturned
snub nose and big blue eyes. My hair is a bright golden blonde and
I keep it straight, and shoulder length. I part it on the right and
sort of toss it back across my forehead just above my eyes.
Now don't get me wrong. I like my body. It's attractive, fit,
and healthy. I kind of like the attention I get most of the time,
especially when I'm on the beach in my bikini.
But I'm no dumb bimbo. I have a hundred and seventy IQ, I can
read, speak and write four languages and know more about the world,
its geography, history and politics, then ninety percent of the
Unfortunately, with my looks, very few people who don't know
me well treat me with much respect, just because of the way I look.
Because of that I've learned to be aggressive when I want
Anyway, I thought, fantasised, and dreamed about being a kind
of slave girl to some big monstrous barbarians, you know, the Conan
types, for a long time. In my fantasies I gave up the aggression in
favour of a meek, servile sex slave who was used and abused by
these big horny men...
The thick stone echoed with the screams and clashing steel of
many swordsmen as the barbarians ran through the castle. I
flattened myself against the wall, then hurried further along,
heading for my father, the King's secret tunnel escape.
Then there was a scuffle and I sensed movement behind me.
Something caught my long hair and yanked violently. I screamed,
dragged backwards by a huge, laughing man. He was bulging with
muscles, his face a twisted ugly mask of hate and lust, a dark,
nasty scar running across it.
He whirled me around by the hair and then threw me through a
doorway into a chamber. It was one of the sitting rooms and I fell
against a gilt edged table, only to be grabbed and thrown across a
The hard wood slammed into the back of my thighs as he came at
me, his huge, ugly body clad only in furs and shaggy boots, his
hair, longer than mine, falling in a dirty tangle around his
He grabbed my gown and ripped it apart, tearing it like thing
paper, and leaving me clad in shreds and my thin shift. then he
grabbed the shift, tearing it down the front, baring my soft young
body to his lewd and carnal gaze.
I screamed again, beating at him with my small fists, but he
merely howled in laughter, slapping my face so hard he knocked me
back onto the chest. He gripped my thin legs and ripped them open,
jerking my buttocks to the edge of the chest.
He opened his codpiece and took out his manhood, swollen with
lust, dark angry red with purplish lines and veins. I gazed at it
in horror as he brought it towards the softly curled hair
surrounding my tight thin cleft.
He pushed the knobby head against me and thrust forward,
slapping my face again as I sought to rise. I cried out again,
falling flat atop the chest, sobbing with fear and pain and
outrage. His organ thrust forward again, one of his hands holding
it like a weapon as he ground it into me, forcing it slowly into my
I wept with pain and misery as his prong forced open my
womanhood and twisted forward. He grabbed me about the waist then,
jerking my light slender body towards him as he lunged forward with
his hips. His hard lance drove into me, driving deep into my belly.
I cried out, my crotch screaming in pain as it was so harshly,
so cruelly wounded. I expected to see blood pouring from my
opening, but there was none. He guffawed, then threw his hips
forward again, and I felt his hard, throbbing weapon thrust further
into my body.
I gasped as I felt the end of the monstrous thing far up
inside me. My eyes opened in wonderment as my hands flattened on my
belly, seeking to feel the terrible thing inside me, but I could
not, not with my hands, yet it was there, and I could feel it
inside me, pulsing with life, hard against my soft inner organs.
He drew it back, then thrust forward again. His mighty tool
impaling me, slamming deep into the very bottom of my love chamber.
I could feel it grinding against that inner part of me that marked
the center of my being, and groaned from the pain and horror.
The cruel, savage man continued to laugh as he assaulted my
defenceless body. His hands mauled my breasts, squeezing and
tearing a them, his large bony fingers digging deep furrows in the
malleable flesh. He buried his face in my throat, biting and
sucking and licking like a maddened beast.
His loins drew back, then thrust forward again, tearing his
sword about in my belly, thrusting it back and forth as he pulled
and jerked on my hair and forced my face up against his. His lips
came down on mine, no matter how I sought to avoid their contact.
Then they were locked tightly against my own soft, sweet lips,
pressing hard, bringing new pain to my tormented body. My eyes
opened in revulsion as I felt his tongue push into my mouth. I
would have bit it but was afraid he would murder me at once.
I fought down nausea as he began to rut into me like a
maddened thing. His hips rutted in and out, plunging his terrible
back and forth in my sore, agonized chamber. I groaned and
whimpered as he used me, his member pummelling me as he grunted and
Then he groaned and his eyes closed briefly as he held himself
still inside me. I felt a kind of seeping wetness deep inside my
guts and new that his seed had gushed forth into my belly. I sobbed
in misery and disgrace, my chest heaving as I wept.
He laughed again, tearing his softening thing from my crotch
and shoving it back inside his breeches. He grabbed my silken hair
and dragged me off the chest, shoving me in front of him, then
pausing long enough to rip the fragments of my gown and shift from
off my wounded body, leaving me clad in nothing but my skin.
Then he tightly bound my wrists behind me with leather bonds
and shoved me forward into the hallway. I moved hopelessly along,
my head bowed as he prodded at me with his dagger. He brought me
down into the throne room, where my father had once, but no longer,
His barbarian comrades were all about, laughing, screaming and
dancing, tearing at hunks of meat with their teeth as they abused
the younger noblewomen and serving girl.
Naked, I was led into the room and thrown to my knees before
the pirate lord who led this horde of savages. His eyes gleamed as
he gazed down at me.
My flesh crawled, already dark red and hot with humiliation at
being so crudely stripped and used, then displayed to the gathered
throng. The leader stood up, standing before me. He said something
in his barbarian tongue but I did not understand it.
Then the man behind me gripped my hair, savagely forcing my
head up and back. The leader fondled my breasts, a smirk of cruelty
on his face, then he drew out his manhood from his breeches to much
laughter from his men.
As the man behind held my hair, the organ was placed against
my lips. At first, I did not know what he wanted or intended, but
his thumbs forced my jaws apart and then his organ actually pushed
into my mouth! At the same time a razor sharp dagger was placed
against my throat, leaving me with no confusion about what would
happen to me should I do harm to him.
He began to slid the thing in and out of my mouth, snarling at
me in his awful language. One of the men looked over his shoulder
and made strange looking faces, his cheeks puckered, mouth round as
he pretended to suckle on something.
He pointed to his lips and I got the idea, reinforced by
several angry blows to the head. I closed my lips tightly around
the lord's member, suckling on it as a babe would on its mother's
teat. He grunted in satisfaction, slowly moving the instrument in
and out of my mouth as tears of mortified misery slid down my
Abruptly, he pulled his instrument loose. I was whirled
around, my face forced down against the cold stone. He knelt behind
me and then thrust forward, his manhood driving deep into my
exposed loins. There was a cheer from his men and a round of deep
He began to use me then, riding me like a bitch dog as the
onlookers cheered. I felt a terrible numbness at such utter
depravity, and yet... something... somehow... inside me there was
pleasure, not a pleasure of the mind by any means for I was in
deepest misery, but my body felt a strange, unfamiliar tingling
that was far from unpleasant.
The tingling grew and grew, a buzzing vibrating thing that
seeped outward from my womanhood. His organ continued to churn
inside my belly as he rutted into me with careless brutality. And
something inside me, down between my legs, responded to it,
responded not like a lady, like a Princess, but like a raw, wanton
I moaned in denial, trying to fight it back, but it was no
use. It grew, its heat engulfing me, flooding through my body,
sending wave after wave of numbing, terrible bliss and joy through
my trembling frame.
I grunted in mindless happiness, my own loins unconsciously
jerking back against him, my love chamber seeking more and more of
his pummelling, punishing organ. I moaned in pleasure, my body
trembling and shaking. A hand in my hair dragged my face off the
stone, pulled my body upright as he humped into me.
Exclamations from the watchers showed they recognized my
pleasure, yet I could do nothing, could not help myself, could not
even think of anything save the craven satisfaction of my own
burning lust. He pulled harder on my hair, bowing my body back as
he drove himself into me harder and faster.
Then there was a blinding light and I screamed aloud, my body
racked by convulsions as my belly exploded with maddened pleasure.
I felt his seed spraying up inside me, and rather than disgust,
felt a kind of gladness.
Then I was shoved forward onto the stone, laying there for
only seconds before being seized by the gathered barbarians. I was
flung on a table and another barbarian stepped between my legs,
then thrust into me. Again and again my body was used, all through
the night and into the next day. I lost count of the men who had
used me and the times I had cried out my happiness.
In the morning I would walk in chains, naked among the other
slave girls as I was marched southwards towards the waiting ships,
to be taken over the seas and sold as a sex slave. Instead of
terror, an odd kind of freedom sang in my breast. Then I cried out
as yet another massive eruption of ecstasy flared within me.
I'm sure other girls have the same sorts of fantasies, though
maybe they don't dwell on them like I do. I had a real hard time
with mine as well because of how, well, how crude and degrading
Hell, I'm a feminist and I know I could do anything a man
does. If any man dared treat me anything like they way they did in
my fantasies I'd be furious. I don't even tolerate it when they're
condescending. So you can imagine how guilty and stupid I felt
after these dumb fantasies.
How it was that these awful fantasies about being abused and
molested and raped aroused me so much was beyond my understanding.
I tried to resist them, really. But they began to assume more and
more power as I studied the history texts and read all about that
Not long into the term, I mailed away for, and received,
handcuffs, leather bondage equipment and a big dildo.
I would chain my legs to the bottom legs of my bed, slowly
stuff the dildo into my cunt, and then manage to chain my hands to
the upper corners tightly enough that I could pull hard and not
come loose, but in a way that I could twist my hand around an get
free when I wanted.
Sometimes I would lie there, my eyes closed, my arms and legs
constantly pulling at the bonds holding them, my cunt squeezing and
clasping down on the dildo inside it. I would often arch my back,
and raise my ass upward so I could bring my cunt down against the
bed and force the dildo back into me after it had half slipped out.
This gave me a fantastic cum, but it was unsatisfying, because
it was, after all, only fantasy, and also the movement of the dildo
inside me was very uneven and tentative, governed by how fast it
slipped out from my cunt.
Oh, sometimes I only chained one hand, and that allowed me to
fuck the dildo in and out. But that sacrificed realism.
I invented a better way, eventually, though I berated myself
as a pervert almost every day. There was a floor to ceiling post in
the middle of my room and I found a way to screw the base of the
dildo into the side of the post.
With the dildo sticking out horizontally, I would kneel before
it, my wrists tied behind me and then back into the dildo, letting
it slide fully into my cunt. With my legs on either side of the
post and my shoulders and head pressed against the floor, I would
slowly grind and hump back against the dildo.
Bright sun shone down as the barbarian mounted me, driving his
steely pole into me from behind. My wrists tightly bound, I could
do nothing as he rutted into my torn virginal opening. Again and
again his member thrust into my body, and I grunted as the pain and
heat rose simultaneously within me.
I felt the slap of his hard body against my buttocks as he
grunted from behind me. My tightly bound hands twisted and pulled
at the tight rope binding them and tears of humiliation coursed
down my cheeks. Never had any man dared so misuse me.
Yet despite my horror and degradation, I felt my woman's body
respond, as it inevitably must, felt myself drawn into arousal by
the force of his rutting and the fiercely plunging organ within my
tight sheath. There was nothing I could do of course, for my body
responded quite naturally to the lewd sexual poling he was giving
I felt the heat burning within my loins as his manhood moved
inside me, felt his hands roving over my body, pawing and
squeezing, then holding my hips as he drove himself even harder
into me. I came then, crying out in helpless ecstasy as the burning
heat flared throughout my body.
My head ground into the dirt as it twisted and jerked in a mad
paroxysm of sexual pleasure. My body shivered and trembled, and my
loins drove backward to meet his hot blooded thrusting, then I felt
his man's seed spew down the length of his tube and gush into my
There was nobody I could talk to about these, well...
disgusting erotic fantasies. My friends simply wouldn't understand,
they'd think me insane, certainly they would not sympathise. So I
bore them alone and in silence, fighting them during the day and
giving in during the night.
One day, the idea came to me about how I might be able to
fulfil my fantasies. It wasn't intentional, coming quite by
It was late at night in my dorm room. I had been up all
evening studying and had just finished at about three in the
morning. My three roommates were all asleep long since, and I was
tired as hell. I remember I was wearing a pink jumpsuit and t-
Tired as I was, I wasn't about to go to bed without a shower.
It had been a really hot day and though the dorm was air-
conditioned, I'd played tennis earlier and hadn't showered yet.
So I stripped, put on my robe, grabbed my towel, along with my
little bag of toiletries, and made my way down the dimly lit
corridor to the common showers we use in the dorm.
We're very into feminism, equality, and all that kind of stuff
here, and so the bathrooms are co-ed. Now, that's not as bad as you
might think. There are toilet stalls for privacy, and going past
them you come to the showers.
The showers are four little shower stalls, each about two feet
by two feet square, You go in, close the door, lock it of course,
then strip. There's a little counter to put your stuff and a hook
to hang your clothes out of the way of the shower head's stream of
Anyway, I pushed my way into the empty bathroom, went past the
stalls and down to the showers and got into one. I closed the door
and locked it, then opened my robe, putting it up on the hook. It
was then that I remembered that it was three in the morning and the
water would come out ice cold.
I grumbled at my own dopiness, pulled on my robe again and
stepped out of the stall. I leaned in and turned on the water,
letting it run until it was really hot. Then I turned the stream to
the opposite wall, stepped in and closed the door again, putting my
robe back on the hook.
I turned the showerhead back to me and let the hot water soak
me really good. When I was dripping wet, I pulled the lever that
shut off the water and soaped up. Now I don't know about you, but
when my body is really tired it sometimes gets really horny too. As
I stood there, my body completely slick with white soap, sliding my
hands up and down my firm, smooth body, my mind flicked to my
I kind of leaned back against one of the corners of the stall,
sliding my hands up and down my body, cupping and caressing my fat
breasts, and sliding my fingers back and forth between my oily
I was running through a village under attack by big, muscular
savages with their long steely swords. One of them caught me,
dragging me up across his horse as he howled with triumph and raced
out of the village.
There were a lot of them, and I wasn't their only prisoner,
but I mostly kept the rest in the background, most of my
concentration on my own captor. He was huge, almost seven feet
tall, probably three hundred pounds of solid bulging muscles. He
had a granite jaw, long gorgeous blonde hair, and piercing blue
He threw me to the ground and stripped off my long gown, then
with a grin of mastery, he forced my legs apart and entered me. He
was huge of course, his cock tremendously long and thick and it
slid into me like a log, thrusting deep, spreading me wide open.
My legs were held wide apart as his huge, powerful body
covered me. He grabbed my hair, twisting my head up as his lips
crushed mine. His tongue thrust into my mouth, whipping and
wriggling around as he sucked and mashed his lips tightly against
Down between my legs, his hard throbbing cock thrust deep into
my belly and my cry of pain was swallowed up by his hungry mouth.
I slapped at him but he easily held my hands away, forcing them up
above my head as he began to work his massive organ in and out of
my virgin pussy.
All around us were screams as other village girls were rudely
raped, but my concentration was on my cunt, where his fat prong was
rutting back and forth with such force my body was being jerked and
mashed against the sweet yellow grass beneath me.
His hard, muscular hips hammered down against my soft, tender
thighs as he drove his spear down into my belly. He pounded into me
with hard, even savage strokes, his cock thrusting with long even
movements, sliding back and forth inside my belly.
His hard body crushed down on top of me, flattening my fat
breasts, rasping against my soft skin as he rutted against me. His
hands worked under me, sliding beneath my ass cheeks and he started
jerking my ass upward to meet his brutal downward thrusts.
As the fantasy played before my closed eyes, my fingers worked
harder in my soapy cunt. I had three fingers thrusting rapidly in
and out of my cunny, grinding over my clitty with each stroke. My
other hand mashed and squeezed my breasts as I moaned and grunted
The big barbarian pulled out of me, turning me over and
forcing me onto my hands and knees. He knelt behind me and thrust
deep into my cunt with a single stroke, his cock knob slapping
against my cervix with painful force.
In the real world I never fucked doggie style, considering it
far too degrading. I'd seen porno movies of girls getting it like
that and it was always so clear who was the boss. How could a guy
respect a woman as his equal when he's had her on all fours, her
asshole winking up at him as he thrusts into her?
In my fantasy though, my degradation was merely a sign of his
power over me and my impotence.
I knelt like a dog a he mounted me and pounded his cock into
my velvety pink cunt box. Men stood around watching as he used me,
his hands firmly around my hips or waist as he drove his staff into
me with hard, measured thrusts.
In the shower stall, I turned around, pressing my face into
the corner. I was incredibly high, my mind buzzing with lust, my
body throbbing and pounding with desire. I panted and groaned
helplessly, my vision blurring whenever I opened my eyes.
I was hotter than I'd been for ages, my body pulsing with
sexual heat. I bent over, sliding downward onto the floor of the
stall, consciously or unconsciously positioning myself in real life
as I was in my fantasy. I knelt on the floor, my shoulders pressed
to the floor as I mauled my breasts with my right hand and fingered
my clitty and fucked my cunt with my left.
I was trembling with erotic desire, my knees sliding on the
floor, my face lowering so my cheek was against the tile. My left
arm was down between my legs, three fingers pumping in and out of
my fuck pit as I spread my legs and raised my ass into the air.
Other images flew through my mind, including one of my
favourites, where my hands are bound behind me and I'm being pulled
along behind a barbarian on his horse, a rope around my neck as I
trudge along a few feet behind him.
I whimpered and mewled as my body was overloaded with sexual
heat. I felt my orgasm approaching as I pounded my fingers into my
box. My eyes were clenched tightly closed as I panted for breath.
The sound of my own breathing and my own heartbeat loud in my ears.
Now, the thing was, when I'd gone out of the stall to start
the water up and then come back in, I'd forgotten to lock the door.
Maybe it was because I was tired and it was three in the AM, who
knows. But the door wasn't locked, and that was to be my undoing.
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