Confessions of a Smut Author

by Scott Hildreth

On my ass and bound to the column in his apartment, my hands were tied together, and secured to the concrete. My torso was also secured to the column with a rope. Naked and incapable of moving much at all, I felt safe. I had no idea of knowing how anyone else would feel in the same or a similar situation, but I felt as if I was safe and secure. For assurances sake, I attempted to pull against the restraints. There was absolutely no slack. I was capable of moving my legs and my head, and that was it.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded eagerly.

  Shawn turned and walked from the large open room. I turned my head to the side in an effort to see what he was doing. After a few seconds, I heard the door open and close.

  I waited.

  Nothing.

  He’s going to come through the door and be a different person. He’s getting psyched up, that’s what he’s doing. He’s mentally preparing.

  In anticipation of what was next, I began to day dream about him slapping me and forcing me to do what he wanted. We had discussed, in some detail, what he would do. Although we didn’t discuss the sequence of the events, we did go over what would happen from a general standpoint.

  I couldn’t wait. I felt my pussy beginning to tingle. The anticipation was killing me. I spread my legs the best I could and looked down at my pussy. Back and forth, I fanned my legs and waited for Shawn to come back.

  I looked down at my left wrist hoping although it was bound to my side, I could catch a glimpse of it. As soon as I did, I remembered he had removed my watch. I turned both directions and realized there was not a clock in sight. After what seemed like an eternity, I began to worry. I considered if something might have happened to him and if so, what it may have been. Quite possibly this was all part of his plan, but maybe something went terribly wrong. My mind raced at the potential problems that could have arisen.

  He had instructed me to not drink anything for three hours before we began. Maybe he knew he was going to leave me tied up for an extremely long time and he didn’t want me to feel the need to pee.

  As the sun slowly set and the room began to go dark, it dawned on me I had been tied up for no less than five hours.

  And I began to worry.

  CHERYL

  The sharp pain on my cheek woke me up.

  I wiggled my lower jaw and tried to figure out what had happened. All I could see was black. As the pain on my cheek diminished, I realized there was some type of fabric covering my eyes. He had blindfolded me. I could see nothing. My ass ached and my arms were sore.

  Slap!

  A hand hit my face on the same side. I wished I knew it was coming, I would have prepared. The pain was almost unbearable. It was far harder than Kade had ever slapped me, and he slapped me hard.

  I felt something against my lips. Barely grazing the surface, it touched me again.

  Soft.

  His cock.

  I swallowed and attempted to wet my tongue and lips. My mouth was dry and felt uncomfortable.

  I felt something wet splash against my face. I tossed my head from side-to-side. I stuck my tongue out and savored the droplets.

  Water.

  A small drink poured into my mouth. I eagerly swallowed.

  The flesh grazed my lips again.

  I stretched my neck to accept his cock. My head slammed against the concrete. The pain in the back of my head from hitting the concrete column caused me to tilt my head forward. I wished I could raise my hands to rub it. The back of my head began itch. Again, he forced himself into my mouth. My head slapped against the concrete. I stretched my jaw, forced my head forward onto his cock, and attempted to please him.

  He fucked my face silently. The sounds of my gagging and of his cock sloppily slapping in and out of my mouth were all I could hear.

  He held his cock in my throat until I began to convulse. Bile rose in my throat. I felt his fingers pinch my nostrils closed. He continued to hold his cock deeply in my throat. Now fearful I may stop breathing, I tossed my head from side-to-side and growled against his throbbing dick. His hand released my nose.

  Slap!

  The same side.

  Fuck!

  The pain was a hot burning sensation. I’d never been slapped as hard as he slapped me. Although I was of the opinion I wanted this, now I wasn’t so sure I wanted all of it. He pulled his cock from my throat. I coughed, sputtered spit from my mouth, and gasped for breath. As my lungs finally filled with air, I felt a burning sensation in my chest.

  Again, he thrust himself in my mouth and deep into my throat. Now fucking my face like a jackhammer, the sounds of my sloppy slobbery mouth against his cock were becoming a turn on. Slobber dripped from my lips and onto my tits. The thought of what it must look from his point of view was beginning to turn me on. As he continued to force me to gag on his cock, I wished I could witness the event. I felt the blood rushing to my pussy. In the manner he was sliding his cock in and out of my mouth, I was able to breathe slightly better than before. The sound of it echoing through the otherwise silent apartment, alone, was enough to cause me to become even more aroused.

  I gagged and continued to greedily accept his cock into my throat. I desperately wanted him to cum in my mouth or all over my face.

  As I continued to listen to myself gag and choke, he pulled himself from my mouth. Slobber and slippery goop from my throat ran down my chin and dripped onto my upper body and boobs.

  The blindfold slipped from my eyes. Shawn stood over me. I sighed heavily and shook my head. As I continued to catch my breath, he worked to untie me. As I attempted to stand, he helped me to my feet. My legs aching and sore, he helped me into the bathroom. I noticed my clothes were neatly folded on the wire rack beside the door.

  Awwe. That was nice of him.

  “You need to wash off and pee. It’s probably later than you think,” he nodded.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Three a.m.,” he responded as he pulled the door closed.

  I looked in the mirror. Mascara had run down my face. Four long streaks of black trailed down to my neck. My eyes looked like a raccoon. I laughed at the horrible sight and began to wash with a washcloth and warm soapy water. After cleaning my face, I peed and washed my hands.

  I was noticeably either nervous or exhausted. As I washed my hands, they shook considerably. I stood at the sink and counted the hours I had been tied up. From six p.m. until three a.m., almost nine hours. I wondered how long I had slept. I had fallen asleep after dark, and it was late August. It normally got dark around nine in August, so I had been asleep roughly five or six hours. I looked in the mirror again and wondered what might be next. After considering walking out naked, I decided to get dressed. I decided I’d been naked long enough. He could always rip my clothes off; sometimes getting undressed was as much fun as foreplay.

  As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw Shawn sitting at his desk. I walked behind him and rubbed my hands against his shoulders.

  “The entire being tied up thing wasn’t at all what I remembered it being. It was really erotic and scary at the same time,” I whispered.

  As his fingers slid across the keyboard, I looked over his shoulder. He was writing about a woman being tied to a concrete column, undoubtedly a depiction of what had happened. Strangely, he hadn’t really discussed it with me yet. In fact, he hadn’t spoken of the experience at all, at least not yet.

  “So, what are you working on?” I asked.

  “Just finishing a few paragraphs. I worked on it quite a bit while you were asleep. I’ll be done with this in a minute. You’ll probably need to go as late as it is,” he responded.

  I rested my chin on his right shoulder, “I can stay; my parents are okay with it.”

  “I really need to work on this. I have a lot in my head, and it’s impossible for me to work on this if you’re here. I really have to be alone to write. Well, to write anything worth reading. It’s just a pattern of mine. I’m really sorry Cheryl,” he said over his shoulder as he tapped away
at the keys.

  “So we’re done?” I asked.

  He stopped typing and peered over his shoulder as he reached up and tapped my hand with his, “For now yes. I filmed it all, so we can review it together tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

  The thought of him filming it was a nice surprise. The thought of watching it was very exciting to me. I wondered how much of it he actually filmed.

  “How much did you get on film?” I asked.

  He turned to face the keyboard, “All of it.”

  “All?”

  “Every bit,” he responded.

  “From when?” I asked.

  “From the minute I tied you up.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Wow, yeah I’ll want to see it. That’s kind of cool,” I said excitedly.

  “Yeah, it should be good stuff. Well, I really need to get this out of my head, I’m sorry. Want to continue tomorrow? he asked.

  “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “Tomorrow will be better than tonight, I promise,” he responded.

  He stopped typing and stood from his stool. As he turned to face me, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. Having him hold me was nice. As he pulled his body away from mine, he leaned into me and kissed me deeply on the lips. As he did, I realized it was actually the first time we kissed. My disappointment from him asking me to leave quickly faded to nothing.

  “That was uhhm. Nice,” I sighed as our lips parted.

  “Yes, it was. Now, again, I’m sorry but I need to get to this,” he sighed.

  “Okay, I’ll let myself out,” I said.

  “I’ll lock the door behind you,” he said as he stood.

  As he followed me to the door, it became apparent just how exhausted I was. Six hours sleep or not, I was tired, worn down, and my throat hurt from him face fucking me. Maybe writing this book was going to be a pleasure for him, but I began to wonder just what type of overall satisfaction I would receive. Maybe having him write a Dominant/submissive book would be better. Something about rough sex didn’t seem as appealing now that I was leaving.

  As we walked past the kitchen, I grabbed my purse from the counter. I wondered how many goodnight text messages my mother had sent me. Knowing her, probably a dozen or more, considering the fact I had not responded. I made a mental note to respond when I got to the car, and then realized they would have the time of day attached to them. It would probably not be a great idea, at least not with her. I could always carefully sneak into the house, and tell her I got home earlier than I actually did.

  “Goodnight, Cheryl. Be careful. Text me when you get home,” he said as he hugged me.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  As I walked down the hallway, my butt muscles ached. I turned and stepped in front of the elevator. A sign on the door of each elevator read the same thing.

  ELEVATOR OUT OF SERVICE

  USE THE EAST OR WEST STAIRS

  SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE

  THE MGT

  Holy fuck. Seriously?

  After eleven flights of stairs, my ass would be on fire for sure. Reluctantly, I walked toward the stairs.

  After the eleven flights, I was happy the trip was down the stairs, and not up. I stumbled out the front door and toward my car, which was parked in the street. As I pushed the button on my key fob and looked up and into the car window, I noticed a Ryder moving van parked beside my car.

  Probably someone moving in, I guessed.

  I reached down and opened the car door. As I started to step into the car, I heard the door of the van open.

  Oh fuck, this is creepy.

  I turned and looked over my shoulder and to my left. A man in a black ski mask walked briskly toward my car. The mask only had eye holes. Scared and frantic, I screamed as I fumbled with the door lock. As I yelled and attempting to lock the car, he yanked the door open.

  Oh fuck.

  “Come here, you sexy little bitch,” he grunted as he grabbed a handful of my hair.

  I screamed as he pulled my hair.

  “Let me go, my boyfriend is upstairs watching me get in my car, he’ll be down here in a minute,” I cried.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he growled as he pulled up his shirt and produced a silver gun.

  “Say one more fucking word and I’ll shoot your sexy little ass. Now come here,” he grunted as he slipped the gun into his waistband.

  He pulled me from my seat by my hair. Now standing nervously behind the van, he looked both directions, opened the rear door, and shoved me inside. As I considered grabbing my phone and making a call to the police, I realized it was inside my car.

  I’m fucked.

  I heard noises outside the van. It sounded like car doors opening and closing. Maybe he had more people with him, helping him. Eventually, he opened the front door and got inside. The rear of the van was an open space. With metal floor and walls, it was open to the front of the van. I could see the masked man as he started the van and began to back up into the street.

  “If you try and use the phone, I’ll kill you.” he grunted as the van backed up.

  The van smelled like chemicals.

  “Really, I’m begging you. Let me go. I’m sure my boyfriend…”

  “Just shut the fuck up. Say another word. Just fucking one, and I’ll kill you. I’m sick of that mouth already,” he growled.

  Oh God, I’m going to die.

  CHERYL

  As the van pulled under the bridge, I attempted to mentally prepare for what might happen. His instructions to keep quiet or he would shoot me continued to replay in my mind as he pushed the gear selector into park and turned the engine off.

  As he stepped form the van and walked to the rear, I prayed. I didn’t want this to happen. Not at all. I wished Shawn was here. Shawn was timid and shy, but he was muscular and strong. He would protect me.

  The rear van door opened. I sat on the floor of the van and looked out at him. Still covered in a ski mask, wearing a dark jacket and dark work pants, he seemed to be a very tall and large man. The word LOVE was tattooed across the knuckles of one of his hands. As I closed my eyes and attempted to continue to pray, he grabbed a fistful of my hair.

  As he pulled me from the van by my hair, I bit my lip and tried not to cry. I really wanted someone to find me and end this all. No one deserved to have this happen to them. As I attempted to stand, he continued to drag me across the across the dirty concrete by my hair and right wrist.

  He pushed me into the dirt beside a concrete wall thing. As I attempted to stand, he reached down and grabbed my hair. Half lifting me by my hair, I was ready to give up. Certain he was going to kill me, I figured my only escape was to let him fuck me and act like I liked it. Maybe he’d like it enough he wouldn’t kill me.

  “Get undressed,” his deep voice demanded.

  I began to cry as I fumbled with my jeans. After I finally got them unzipped and began to push them down my thighs, I was sobbing. Now a blubbering mess, a half stood and pulled my jeans over my feet. I realized I was barefoot, and wondered when I had lost my shoes.

  I’m an only child, my parents are going to be without me.

  Please God. I’ll fuck him. I will, but don’t let him kill me. Let me live. If you let me live, I will serve you. I will…

  “Stop fucking around,” he demanded.

  I looked up. He had his dick out of his pants, through the opening of the zipper.

  “Bend over and put your hands on the wall,” he grunted.

  Still sobbing uncontrollably, I bent over and placed my hands on the concrete wall. As he pressed himself against me, I wondered of the possibility of becoming pregnant if he allowed me to live.

  Did I take my pill this morning?

  God please, if you let me live, don’t allow me to get pregnant. I don’t think I took my pill this morning. Please God, not a baby from this. Don’t bring this child into this earth, please.

  As he grunted and pounded himself into me,
I felt absolutely awful.

  I wanted a hot shower.

  He pounded his filthy dick into me over and over until I felt him cum inside of me. I felt disgusting and dirty. Still leaning forward with my hands on the wall, I heard him zip his pants. I prayed he leave me under the bridge or maybe just beat me up. I didn’t want to be shot.

  I heard the van start. Scared for what may be next, I stood naked and pressed my hands into the wall. If he was going to shoot me, I didn’t want to see it. As the sound of the van’s engine faded away, I stood up and looked around. The area under the bridge was dark and smelled like garbage. I began to cry as I pulled up my pants, zipped them, and fastened the button.

  I turned and looked around me I had no idea where he had driven me, but I heard almost no traffic overhead on the road above me. He must have driven me to the highway 30 south of town.

  If I can get to the highway above me, I can stop a car and get a ride to the hospital.

  As I began to stumble toward the street light in the distance, I heard a phone ring. Shocked, I looked on the ground around me. Figuring he must have dropped his phone, I wanted to find it. If I found it, the police could track him and find out who he was. A glow by the concrete wall on the ground caught my attention. I ran toward the glowing object and picked it up.

  I stared at the illuminated screen as the phone continued to ring. A name, clearly visible, blinked on the screen.

  SHAWN FAIRFIELD

  I stared at the phone, confused, trying to figure out what had happened. How could Shawn know the man who raped me? Confused, I answered the phone.

  “Shawn,” I heaved for a breath.

  “I was abducted…,” I cried.

  “I was raped. I need a ride, and I don’t know…,” I sobbed into the phone.

  “I don’t know where I am,” I sniveled.

  Although I had somewhat regained my composure, I was now sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Look behind you,” he said flatly.

  I slowly turned and looked behind me. Brake lights flashed.

  Confused, I stared at the lights.

  “See those lights?” he asked.

  I nodded my head, and realized he had no idea I was nodding.