Joanne's Forced Fantasy

The noise of the bin lorry outside in the street half awoke Joanne Moore from her sleep, she reached out her hand to turn the alarm clock off and see that she had a further forty five minutes before it would go off and she sleepily turned her face back towards the pillow and cuddled in snugly and drifted back into her dream. Back in dreamland Joanne was in the night-club she and her friends had been in last Friday night, only her friends weren't there this time and in fact Joanne appeared to be the only female in the place. And that nice aqua green / blue dress she had worn seemed to have shrunk somewhat, the hemline ended several inches higher and she was pretty much in danger of flashing her thong anytime she moved her legs and it seemed to show an awful lot more cleavage than she remembered. She was dancing sexily with a variety of men in the club.

Another noise outside on the wakening London streets and she suddenly jumped forward in her dream. She was out of the club now, it was late, she was hailing a cab and getting in, realising as she slid on the leather back seat that her skirt was riding up to reveal her crotch but not caring. She looked at the taxi driver, he was a slob, a fat, ugly slob that was sweating and his hair was greasy he was just the most unattractive individual that she could imagine. He had a sleazy, salacious tabloid open at a topless girl on his passenger seat and below that a low rent porno magazine. It was just the seediest taxi imaginable. And Joanne was wet between her legs, a fire burned down there that desperately needed to be attended to.

She was close now to wakening up of her own violation but as she neared that her dream became all the more vivid and real. They were moving in the taxi, the driver was grunting and staring at her almost constantly in the mirror. Joanne was so wet and she could not stop herself reaching her hand down between her legs and playing with herself. Another jump cut in her dream and they were stopped outside Joanne's parents house (strange she had left there three years ago) and she was discovering she had no money to pay for the fare. The taxi driver grinned as she explained her predicament. Another fuzzy jump cut, the sound of traffic becoming more and more obtrusive on her dream, Joanne found herself on her knees sucking the drivers hard cock, she didn't want to, was reluctant to but was as horny as hell about it and reached to finger her own pussy just as her bedside alarm clock blared into action and brought her straight to her senses.

Joanne got up slowly and showered even slower the lingering memories of her dream staying with her as she played with herself off under the hot, rushing water. When finally she was into her tight jogging shorts and top she wandered down to the kitchen to see if her flat mates were up -- they were and what's more their conversation made very interesting hearing.

"That bastards been at it again! Listen to this."

Claire read from the paper as she announced.

"The Tottenham attacker has struck again. A young woman, 21, was kidnapped after a drunken night out and sexually assaulted before having her pony tail hacked off with scissors. This is the third such attack in the area in the last three weeks. Each assault has seen the man pose as a late night Taxi and pick up the girls and the drive them to a seduced spot to assault them. Police have called for residents to be extra vigilant."

Joanne didn't listen to any more she just affixed the ear plugs of her ipod and stepped out into the bright morning sunshine and began a slow jog while contemplating what her long dark hair would look like in a ponytail.

*

Joanne went out for four nights in a row. Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Each night she pretended to be far more drunk than she was and tried to attract the attentions of taxi's that looked less than legitimate. She was playing with fire and she knew it. It was stupid and dangerous and reckless beyond belief. No one even knew where she was, her flatmates thought she had a new man on the go and in a way she did, she just hadn't found him yet. But she was determined to keep looking. And in the meantime the explosions she was having when she returned to her room and masturbated herself to sleep more than made up for it. The fantasy was just to arousing and alluring to leave alone.

Joanne was playing with fire. She knew that. But she wanted to get burned. Or did she? Her fantasies were wrong, she knew that as well but all the knowledge in the world did not change how she felt, how she dreamed night after night of being taken against her will and used and abused at her attackers discretion. She could remember reading a story as a younger woman of a woman attacked in a bar and assaulted by a group of guys and rather than being repulsed she had been turned on and from that point onwards her fantasies had just snowballed to now being almost out of control. It was certainly dangerous what she was doing but she was not about to stop.

That night she went out again, once more the bait on her own dangerous hook. Once more hoping to get caught. She certainly dressed the part: short, low cut silver dress that showed plenty of her creamy white flesh, high heels that had her tottering even before she assumed her 'drunk' act and make up caked on liberally. And of course her long, dark hair was in a cute ponytail. She was aiming for the filthy slut look and from the looks and comments she attracted in the clubs in that part of London she certainly managed it. She did actually imbibe a few drinks but not so many that she was completely without her faculties. She flirted with a couple of guys she knew slightly but made sure to escape them before too long, they were not the type of man she was seeking, not nearly.

It was after half past one in the morning when she exited her last club. The London thoroughfares were by turns either illuminated and busy or dark and foreboding, depending upon what establishments were still open and emptying into them. Joanne took her time in the darker, quieter ones, using her by now perfected drunk and carefree stumble to make her way through the streets, hoping a taxi would stop. Any that did that looked legit or did not fit the profile she had ascertained from the newspaper and police warnings she ignored and waved away. And then a car drew up she got the queerest feeling about.

It was an old, battered looking sedan, the Taxi sign a top it not looking at all permanent. From what Joanne had read the attacker had never used the same car twice, every time stealing an old looking car earlier that night. The car crawled behind her for a few moments before drawing level with her and came to a halt. Joanne gave an involuntary shiver of excitement mixed with very real fear.

"You needing a ride Miss?"

A gruff voice spoke to her from the quiet darkness of the driver's seat.

Joanne stopped and squinted at the car, what she could see of the driver was not much, he appeared heavy set, white sounded over forty, all things that tallied with the police's description. Her heart was thumping like a drum trapped inside her chest. But he wore a flat cap and she could hardly make out his features and there had been no mention of a hat in any of the reports, plus the cab had letters printed on the side listing the drivers name so it looked real enough. Still it was late and Joanne had wandered enough whether or not this was going to be the attacker, and the more she thought about it now the less likely it ever appeared she nodded and flopped into the back seat. He didn't bother to ask her destination before starting off.

There was a sickly sweet aroma in the car that overwhelmed her to begin with and once she had caught her breathe she realised that he had moved off without asking where she wanted to go. A light went off in her head and she slumped back in the seat and pretended to be having a hard time keeping herself upright.

"You had a good night then, Miss? Meet anyone special?"

His was thick and sleazy and just what Joanne had been searching for. She squirmed in the back seat, more than aware the front of her dress was slipping up on the old leather seat and surely giving him an eyeful of her black panties if he chose to look that way in his rear view mirror.

"Oh yes, but I had' too much to drink!"

Joanne faked that her speaking was all slurred with a cheesy grin before slumping over on her side.

This was her time to find out if this was for real or not, surely if the driver was legitimate he would pull over and try to rouse her to find out where she was destined for. But if he didn't then maybe she had finally found what she had been looking for. Her heart hammered inside her as she kept up her pretence and every second that passed as the driver drove on convinced her this was to be her moment but was she ready for her starring role?

With her eyes shut she couldn't see the driver nursing a hard on between his legs as he drove into the dark night and his eyes continually being drawn to the handles of a pair of scissors beneath his feet.

*

Minutes later and the back of the car turned into darkness, the orange glare from the overhead street lamps coming to a sudden stop as he turned into a dark, secluded alley. Joanne was convinced now that she had found who (and what ) she had been looking for and was determined to go though with this, whatever the consequences. She moaned slightly as the car slowed and came to a halt and lifted her headed dreamily from the seat. The driver turned and Joanne finally saw his face, it was enough of a fit with that photo-fit she had stared at for so long in the newspapers.

"Right Miss, that's your stop, let's get you out."

He still sounded convincing as a taxi driver and Joanne propped herself up on her arm as he got out of the car and came round to open the back door. When he swung open the door a little overhead light came on and she got a good look at him.

His was face rough and weather beaten, he could have been anywhere between 40 and 60, it wasn't easy to judge. Sandy hair stuck out either side of his bonnet and he had cold, piercing dark eyes. His thick hands reached in and cupped under Joanne' arm and seemed to help her out of the car but just as she exited it the hand gripped her forearm forcibly and pushed her, hard to the cold, wet cobbles of this deserted alley. Joanne knew for sure she had found what she was looking for.

It was a harsh landing, she lost one of her shoes and grazed both her knees but before she had much of a chance to react the drivers hands were on her, tugging at her hair, dragging her back towards him.

"Open your mouth you prick teasing slut!"

He harshly demanded.

When Joanne did not immediately comply she was given a slap to her cheek and told to 'hurry the fuck up'. This was all going to fast for her but she dumbly opened her mouth as she knelt there before him. In a matter of seconds her mouth was filled with the slimy skin of the attackers thick penis. He was hard already and it filled her mouth up easily and pushed on so the tip of his cock pressed against the back of her throat. She gagged on it and spluttered and got another slap for her troubles.

"No teeth bitch or I'll have to take them out! Know what I mean?"

With his cock still jammed in her mouth she looked up through wide eyes, streaked by her make up and nodded.

"Good. Do what you're told and you'll be fine. Now suck me off!"

He pushed again deep into her mouth and Joanne was able to concentrate more fully on sucking his cock. Inside she was loving this, the initial shock was passing and her body was reacting favourably to the situation -- this was her deepest, darkest fantasy come to life. Still she would be lying not to admit the fear in her but that seemed to be turning her on even more. This dirty old man was using her mouth as a fuck hole, however he liked and there seemed nothing she could do about it, she had to try extra had to keep up her act of shocked, surprised, drunken innocent girl, she didn't want him twigging she was anything less than that.

Really, it was not to difficult to act shocked and disgusting. The guy smelled and his heavy balls were banging against Joanne's chin with every thrust of his into her mouth. His cock was slippery and vile tasting and felt like a real invasion of her. She wondered if a forced blow job would be the end of it. She did hope not. She would not be disappointed. With a sudden movement the man whipped his slippery dick from her mouth and spun her around so that she was on her hands and knees in a dirty puddle facing away from him. She made an involuntary dry but that was stifled by his thick palm engulfing her mouth while his other hand literally ripped her dress from her.

It was no cheap garment but the thug tore it from her body and in seconds fragments floated in the dirty puddle beside her and all she wore was her black, lacy panties. They were next to go and a stubby finger was very soon rubbing at and entering her cunt.

"Fucking bitch, see how you like it when a real man treats you like you should be treated!"

He grunted as his finger was immediately replaced by his cock and he began to fucked her like a dog on the cobbles.

Joanne grunted and braced herself in the cold, slimy layer of water. The man's hand moved from her mouth to grip her ponytail and hold it as he began to fuck her from behind. This was just the dirtiest, nastiest most dangerous thing she had ever done and she was loving it. She didn't care that he wore no protection and she knew that was so fucking wrong on so many levels that it wasn't defensible but so what, who ever gets to live out their fantasy in real life? And in that cold, dark, lonely alley she was. As he fucked her like that he reached his paws under her and mauled at her breasts, wet from the puddle beneath her, squeezing and fondling them with each thrust of his crotch.

Joanne remembered her role, she was supposed to be an innocent victim, she had better act like one, not the wanton slut she was getting off on this assault. She pushed herself up on all fours and tried to break free only for the vice grip on her hair to pull her back and for her to slump down on her face in the puddle all support knocked away.

"Stupid little tart, just you stay right where you are, once you got yours you'll be Ok just a good hard fucking, that's all you're getting, a good hard fucking to show you what you need."

Finally, he withdrew himself from her pussy, still not having cum and Joanne knew where he was headed next as she felt her ass cheeks being prised apart and her puckered asshole being spat on. Anal sex one of the things she had never done with her boyfriends and now here her first experience would be with a rough stranger in a deserted alleyway in the dead of night -- she shivered in excitement. She squealed as his thick cock invaded her, shoving it's way into her bowels, squeezing along her ass on its way. Meantime, he kept his hand on Joanne's ponytail, pressing her face against the wet cobbles and the shallow puddle they were in. he leaned forward to hiss at her.

"Gonna cum in your tight asshole then make you lick it clean, how do you like that Missy, teach you to be a drunken prick teaser, eh?"

How did she like it? The thought turned her on more than anything right then. Then all thought was forgotten in a blur of ass fucking. She was seeing stars before her eyes in the darkness, only the cold wetness of the puddle her hands were in keeping here aware of her situation as he continued to thunder into her from behind. And he was as good as his word, Joanne felt his warm see spurt inside her as he came in wave after wave. Oh she had to fight to control herself, even as he pulled out of her then pulled her head around and forced his cock straight from her own ass to her mouth she took it in.

"Lick it clean bitch, then we're done."

And she did. Sucking and licking everything off his cock and swallowing while feeling his cum ooze from her asshole and into the puddle below. As she did so he brought the scissors from his coat pocket and began to cut off her ponytail, she didn't mind she quite suited a short cut anyway, let him have his trophy.

Eventually she collapsed on her face in the puddle, he told her to move but she was exhausted so he just laughed and took a piss in the puddle while she lay in it. His warnings of not telling the police or reporting him were wasted on Joanne. She had just had the best night of her life.