General Fiction posted November 12, 2024 |
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Will Jane's nightmare ever end
Lap Dance
by Mia Twysted
![](https://www.fanartreview.com/farusr/110939/t-4869521-163589.jpg)
Jane brushed her hair behind her ear, wishing the night was over. She sighed into her rum and coke, running through excuses in her mind that would get her out of this obligation as soon as possible. However, what justification would get the maid of honor out of the bachelorette party? She couldn't leave and would never hear the end of it from her sister if she did.
Oiled, sweaty men were gyrating their hips at screaming drunk women as they slid folded-up bills into their g-strings. Amy knew this was not Jane's cup of tea but was grateful she went out of her comfort zone to give her the best-ever send-off into, as Jane would put it, "the last known form of slavery."
Seeing her sister sitting quietly in her seat, Amy paid one of the men to give her sister a special dance. Wedging himself between Jane and the table, the dancer rubbed his naughty spot on her breasts as Jane shuttered in terror. Sitting on her lap, he circled his pelvis as the bride's party cheered. He ran his fingers through Jane's dark brown hair, down her neck, around her breasts, then along her thighs. Jane shut herself down as the dancer performed. Pulling up her arms, she covered her chest, crossed her ankles, and closed her eyes, waiting for the dance to end.
The husky dancer swung his thick thighs around her head and away from her body. Jane took a deep breath, but before she could let it out, the flexible form of hotness swung his leg over her again, this time in the opposite direction, and started to terk. Putting her hands up over her face, she tried to fight off the bouncing buttocks. The smell of cinnamon was in her nose as he bounced his well-formed glutes at the horrified woman. Finally, he stepped off Jane and went about his way onto another group of screaming women.
The following day, Jane shuttered, reliving the dreadful experience. She had already showered when she got home the night before but couldn't help but showered again, trying to get the cinnamon smell away. Pouring her coffee into her to-go mug, Jane headed out the door and to the parking garage. Setting her mug on the roof of her car, she fumbled around in her purse when she was hit from behind and knocked out.
Coming to Jane moaned. Her heavy head pounded as if being repeatedly struck by a dozen hammers. The overwhelming weight of it made it difficult to move. A repeating buzzing caught her attention. It was an unfamiliar sound that forced Jane to open her eyes.
Painfully, she moved her head and eyes toward the sound. Blinking her eyes, they blurred into focus on a white ceiling fan. Puzzled, Jane tried to recall the last thing she remembered. Moving her right hand to cup her aching head, she found it restrained. Jane's eyes widened as she hung from a giant hook dangling from the ceiling.
Her breath quickened as she struggled against the chain.
"Awake are we?" a man said behind her. "You were out for a while. I was starting to think you were never going to come around."
The mystery man circled in front of her. Dressed in black with a mask over his face, he swung a black plastic stick around with his right hand.
"Who are you?" Jane asked, "What's going on?"
"You don't get to ask the questions here?" he screamed.
The end of his black stick jabbed into Jane's side, driven forward like a sword. Her body flailed around like a fish out of water.
"Like my cattle prod?" the mystery man cackled.
Jane gasped at the sudden jolt of pain. Her rib cage burned from the contact. As she was able to regain her breath, he hit her again. Over and over, he moved the cattle prod around her body, creating several burying sensations.
"Please stop," Jane begged.
"What's wrong you don't enjoy it?'" the man laughed.
Jane screamed every time he put the cattle prod against her skin. Her screams only seemed to fuel her attacker more as he moved around her flesh in an attempt to use her entire canvas.
Day turned into night and night into day, and Jane still found herself hanging from the hook when her assailant returned. Pushing a chair up behind his victim, he unhooked Jane, catching her sore body as it fell.
"What are you doing?" Jane asked.
"Oh, I just want to have a little fun, that's all."
Jane tried to move, but her body was too heavy and weak from hanging and being tortured. She could only wait to see what this madman had in store for her. He bound her hands and feet to the chair before turning on music.
From across the room, he started to dance. He moved closer and closer to Jane, stripping off his clothes piece by piece. She gasped at the strong scent of cinnamon coming off of his body.
"Oh my god," she said, "You're the stripper."
"Professional dancer," he snapped, taking off his mask. "You didn't like my dancing. What was wrong with it?" I work hard on my routines, and you acted like I was some freak."
"No. Please, it wasn't you. It's just not my thing."
"Then why were you there?"
"My sister is getting married. It was her bachelorette party, and I am her maid of honor."
He laughed, "You were her maid of honor."
Jane trembled as he turned up the music and continued his dance. He moved himself up, down, and around Jane's body. His hand went through her hair and then down to cup her breasts. Jane pulled back at the harshness of his touch. Twisting his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back.
"You will like it, do you understand me," he growled.
Putting his free hand down her slacks, he entered her vagina. His fingers fumbled around like a clumsy teenager. Tears ran down Jane's face as he continued to violate her for more than an hour. When he was done, he removed his hand, wiped his forefinger across his nose, and took a long, hard sniff.
Jane shrunk into herself, trying to find a way into her favorite place in her mind. She wondered what her sister was doing to try and find her. Would she ever be found? When would this nightmare be over? As these thoughts crossed her mind, the dancer from "Dicks for Chicks" returned to her side.
He moved his body around the chair, and then, as he did at the club, he straddled Jane, rubbing his manhood on her lap. Licking his fingers, he ran them down between her breasts and back into her pants, where he continued to violate her. When he finished, he turned off his music and left Jane bound to the chair.
The next day, her captor returned. As the defiled female was too weak to break free, she soiled herself over the night. Her capture cut her loose, picked her up, and carried her to the bathroom. Dropping her arms over the clawfoot tub, he bathed Jane. Each time she showed feelings of disgust, he plunged his fingers into her hard, fast, and with a vengeance.
After the bath, to her dismay, she found herself next chained to a bed. Jane knew what was going to happen and what was coming, and she tried hard to separate herself from the heresy that was about to occur. The rapist danced around the room, looking at himself in the mirror, more in love with himself than any woman would ever be.
Fully disrobed, he smiled wickedly at himself and slid like a snake onto the bed. Running his hand up Jane's thigh, he licked his lips. Cupping her breast, he ran his tongue around her nipple before taking it in his mouth. Jane shuttered at the wetness of his touch. Suddenly and without warning, the dancer entered Jane and thrust to the beat of the music playing in the background.
When he finished his current form of violation, he left the room and returned with the cattle prod. Jane's body flopped and plunked around as he zapped her legs, sides, and chest. Her arms and legs were tied to the post of the bed, and she could only helplessly struggle with no hope of escape.
Demonic laughter left the villain as he jammed the cattle prod into Jane and hit the button. Jane screamed out as she was electrocuted from the inside out until she passed out.
Jane could hear the distant sound of the ceiling fan she had first awoken to. Her flesh was unclothed, and she found herself back upon the hook.
"We've had so much fun together, haven't we?" her attacker said as he came into her view.
"Fun, you couldn't satisfy women even if you had a ten-foot dick," Jane snorted back.
"You'll regret that."
Turning, the dancer grabbed a knife, putting it in Jane's throat. "Care to change your statement?"
"Yes," Jane's voice shook, "I meant, you would never be able to satisfy a woman with a 12-foot dick."
"You bitch!"
Taking the knife, he sliced it into Jane's flesh. Slice after slice, he eroticly watched as her flesh dangled from her bones. When he was done and had his fun, he pulled up a chair and watched as she bled to death there in front of him.
Horror Writing Contest contest entry
Artwork by cleo85 at FanArtReview.com
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