Second Life Roleplay

This is a recent text roleplay I had in Second Life. This is how it was written as we were playing. I’ve made no edits other than taking our names out of it.

Him: I’ve been standing outside of your home watching the front door from across the street for the best part of 20 minutes, working up the courage to do what I was about to do. I’d travelled a good hour outside of my local area just for this purpose and begun scouring the suburbs looking for a target my interests found acceptable; finally, I’d spotted you. You’d been outside your home – maybe bringing in the bins, perhaps just home from the shops or dropping your children off at school, maybe doing gardening, but for whatever reason, I’d spotted you and thought “she’ll do”. Though I’d bypassed a number of women, there was something about you that aroused an ugliness in me. Something about the way the sun lit your hair. Now indoors, maybe getting ready for work or preparing a day of leisure, your doorbell begins to ring.

She hears the doorbell…only having just gotten inside, she looks toward the counter where her purse, phone and keys were sitting….everything was there. Now, curious as to whom might be at the door, she quickly puts the last of the few groceries she had purchased away and walks to the door. She is brushing one hand off on her jeans. The door opens and he sees a tall, willowy blond…light blue/grey eyes…long hair up in a messy bun. dressed very casually in an unbuttoned flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up her arms and a form-fitting white tank top under it. She smiles at him, “Hello? Can I help you?”

Him: I’d stood there, impatient, a little agitated, looking left and right up and down the quiet litle street. Most of the houses here seemed quiet – their occupants maybe either in bed or at work, a few cars dotted about the place, though not many. I look back to the door. “Come on”, under my breath, turning to steam in the crisp chill air. Finally, I hear you approaching, the door unlocking then open. I look in at you, eyes quickly scanning you – closer to you than I was before. I step forwards, grab you by the throat and shove you hard back into your home

She doesn’t even have time to squeal before his hand is around her throat….a panicked gurgle the only sound she makes…..he shoves her and she stumbles…in her bare feet, they slide on the slippery tile floor and she falls backward, landing hard…her head bouncing off the floor….hard enough to stun her….but not hard enough to split the skin open….she stares up at him dumbly….seeing stars….confusion and fear in her eyes…she starts to backpedal…her heels sliding on the floor, not actually going anywhere as she tries to flee.

Him: I’d entered your home as you’d fallen back, hearing the crack of your head on the ground as I’d closed the door behind me. My attention is turned back to you as you are looking up, trying to move yourself backwards. I begin there and then to unbutton and unzip my own jeans, hand going inside to release the thing I intend to put into you

She sees him shutting the door….his attention turned back to her…she regains enough of he senses to stare up into his eyes and see only cruelty….no compassion….no decency. She wouldn’t be talking her way out of this. Her heels finally catch the floor, pushing herself back, away from him…intent on putting as much distance as possible between them…even as she watches in horror as he unzips and pulls his cock out of his pants. She shrieks a “fuck you!” as she turns, pushing herself up in an attempt to run.

Him: The man’s eyes are cold and without emotion, my hand methodical as it removed the semi-erect, hanging flesh from my jeans. My eyes are brown, my hair dark brown, my face roughly shaven. You are moving backwards and then shrieking ‘fuck you’ at me. I move after you and have thrown myself on top of you before you’ve even stood, agian forcing you down hard on the tiled floor

She grunts as he throws himself on top of her…crushing her between his body and the floor…knocking the wind out of her in a deep guttural exhale…she is dazed….she is gasping for air…his body larger and heavier than hers….suffocating her beneath him…she’s clawing at the floor….and using precious energy bucking up, trying to throw him off her….the adrenaline helps but she can barely move him..

Him: I’m large of build and it strains every part of you as you try to get this lumbering weight off you. I grip your hair and I drag your head right back, placing a large hand over your mouth, lying on top of you, on your back, trying to force one of my knees between your legs in the struggle. I’m whispering at you “Don’t fight it… I’m gonna put you in the hospital if you fight it”

Her mouth is open as she tries to draw any air into her lungs..she feels his hand in her hair, thick strong fingers winding tightly into her bun which has half come undone and then the sharp yank as he pulls her head back, wrenching her neck painfully….she makes a sound and his other hand is over her mouth….she can taste the skin of his hand…sweaty, salty and something sour…she tries shaking her head, still gasping for breath but now only through her nose….her breathing so hard it’s sucking her nostrils inward. His knee is between her legs and even as she keeps bucking, it stays lodged there….leaving her unable to close them. She hears him and stills a bit….afraid…terrified of what he might do to her….her body is shaking beneath him….from panic and an adrenaline rush which is beginning to wane.

Him: I can feel the tension in your body. First in your straining neck, then in every other muscle – even as you move beneath me. I can feel too the shaking and the fear. I push my knee up so that it is pressed ominously against your most intimate area. My own breath seems a little ragged, arhythmic, though this is down to desire and the general urgency of a rapist. I hiss at you again “20 minutes being raped vs. 2 or 3 hours of being beaten up and raped” words whispered bitterly into your ear “Decide now… You need to believe me when I say I will hurt you if you make me”

She whimpers into his hand…her head was already throbbing…each attempted breath sending sharp shooting pain through her chest…she was afraid her ribs were broken…at the very least extremely bruised…she blinks as her eyes redden and fill with tears…his knee is now pressed hard against her, nested firmed between her legs…every movement made her more aware of it….she stops struggling…almost going limp under him…her body loose like a rag doll. She nods slightly in response to him…

Him: Your hair is grabbed so tight and your neck pulled back so far, I can barely see your nod. I can feel it however in my hands. I slacken the hand that covers your mouth just enough for you to speak “What’s that?” I hiss “Are you chosing rape?”

She whimpers again, taking in a long painful drag of air as he pulls his hand back enough, “rape” she rasps…”Please don’t hurt me”….her chest is on fire, the pain white hot as she tries to catch her breath.

Him: “I think you made the right choice there” I hiss, tugging on your hair to emphasize the point. “When I get off you, you’re gonna roll onto your back, right? you’re then gonna let me take your jeans off”

She groans as he shakes her already throbbing head…making it pound…the pain actually loud in her ears….a rushing sound which drowned out everything else…”Yes” she croaks….aware of the uncontrollable shaking of her body…..

Him: I hold you for a moment, grip tight on face and hair, the intensity of the hold a silent message, like “You do a fucking thing, I’ll break your fuckin neck”, then I release, raising myself up above you and pulling my leg back from between your legs, giving you the opportunity to do as I’d told you

She coughs and gags…the relief of his body off hers….she can’t move for a moment as she gulps for air….but then remembers….rolling over weakly….hugging her arms to her chest…..both to hold in the pain as she breathed…and also to give her trembling hands a place to steady themselves. She is curled up in a ball….so tiny beneath his hulking form….she feels her tears running down her cheeks….loose tendrils of hair sticking to the sweat on her brow. She slow straightens her legs out as she stares up at him, her eyes wide, terrified.

Him: I’d waited patiently, calmly, just kneeling there beside you on the tiles. I’d begun to masturbate myself a little as I’d waited for you, my cock already somewhat stiffer than it hand been when I’d first exposed it. When you finally turn, I can see the tears and their tracks all over your face and I can see you alsmost shivering with fear. I half-smile at this, removing my hand now from my cock as I make to begin unbuttoing yur jeans. “It won’t take long, and I’m sure you’ll get into it”

Her eyes go to his hand….he’s stroking himself…disgusted, she turns her head….looking away….staring across the floor at some mail she had let pile there….trying to not care what he was doing…trying to not think about it…trying not to feel the utter revulsion that was a heavy pit in her gut. She was afraid, if she cared – if she thought about it, she might vomit and she had a pretty good hunch that would just piss him off. She swallows deeply, keeping the bile down….flinching when she feels his hands unbuttoning her jeans. She lifts her hips as he begins to tug them down, catching a glimpse of her favorite pair of panties…a pale pink thong, usually so lovely against her porcelain skin….now they filled her with disgust….Why hadn’t she worn a huge pair of granny panties today? She hugs her arms tighter to her shaking body.

Him: I was pulling down the jeans in rough jolts, your hips raising making it easier for me. Seeing your underwear, I look at you quizically – like I’m surprised that they were there beneath casual clothes. It’s actually in a sense quite ridicuulous, I think to myself. Wondering what absurd thought process might have led you to that decision. As I’m pulling the jeans off over your feet, I ask you if you’re married or live with anyone, the undeerwear being my obvous motivation

Her body rocks on the floor as he tugs her jeans roughly, sending more pain through her chest. She whimpers, holding herself even tighter as he pulls them completely off. She hears his question…not wanting to answer, not wanting to tell him anything, she mouths a response, still staring across the floor. She curls her toes and bends her knees, trying to curl back into a protective ball again.

Him: I toss the jeans to the side and watch for a moment as your legs curl back. I place my hands on your calves, run them up to your knees then down the sides of your thighs. “I said do you live with someone?” repeating, my hands now in the waistband of your panties, beginning to pull them down your legs

She cringes when she feels his hands on her bare skin….an oddly intimate thing. She turns her head and looks up at him, her eyes red, long lashes wet with tears….”I have a boyfriend, whom I am supposed to make supper for tonight,” she chides herself for telling him…but she feels that if he found out she was lying, he would hurt her…She just wants this over and done with…she wants him gone…her bottom lip trembles as she feels him tugging her panties down next…

Him: You panties now are moving over your thighs and down your calves. I half smile as I gesture to them with my eyes “I think I’ve spoilled the surprise?” Again, I’m pulling them off over your feet in order to throw them to the side

Her eyes narrow at his smile….the fucker was enjoying himself, “You’ve ruined a lot of things” she whispers, turning her gaze away from him now…trying to ignore her vulnerability….ignore how helpless she was…trying to ignore the fact that he now had her open and exposed. She blinks and waits….waits for him to do whatever he wanted to her.

Him: You speak and you turn your head. I sit a moment just reflecting on it, but no answer comes. Instead, I place my hands on your knees, pushing your legs apart as I make my way between them. “Do you have a name?” I’m asking as I lay on you. “I like to know the names of the women I’m fucking”

She grimaces as his hands push her legs open….she doesn’t resist. She lays limp…head turned…she can see a dust bunny under a cabinet against the wall…making a random mental note to remember to get it the next time she swept the room. She hears him….and feels rage well up inside her, “Fucking? Fucking?? You aren’t fucking me, you are RAPING me!” She balls up a fist…dangerously close to hitting him.

Him: I’m between your legs and positioning my cock when you almost yell at me. The head of my penis is pressing against you and beginning to enter you when you tell my I am raping you. I hesitate a moment, looking at you, the head of my dick just inside you and then I’m pushing in again. “Ok”, I say “I like to know the names of the women I’m raping” – slow progress into your body. “Now give me your fuckin name, or do you want me to make you give it me?”

And that is where the play ended because he got a phone call in real life.

The End.

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