Return of The Vile Gamer Ch. 1
by DEDHeather94
It must have been six months or so after that night that I
finally saw American Psycho, the movie I had intended to see, well...
that night. I'd never made it inside the theater. My plans were
rudely changed when I was abducted from the parking lot at
knifepoint.
Thanks to my flirting, teasing and overall stupidity I spent
the evening being brutally raped, abused and tormented by a real
psycho....one I'd mistaken for a friend. I'm sure you remember
Chuck. I know I can never forget him, no matter how hard I've tried.
Chuck. Former online friend...fellow
writer...handsome.....sadistic...lousy bastard! I hated him still.
Sure he could have hurt me a lot worse, but who cares? He hurt me
enough. He hurt me plenty.
He was forced to give up his online pursuit of me after I
blocked him from sending me any more email or instant messages.
Poof...no more Chuck and his demented ravings about that night and
how he knew I loved it. No more threats to come back either....those
threats had totally terrified and unnerved me while sending my
private parts into an aching, throbbing mess. And don't forget....I
hated him. So you see, I couldn't talk to him anymore. It was all
too confusing.
I was still hit with flashbacks on occasion, though not
nearly as bad as before, when it was all still fresh...before my
bruises and cuts healed. To my everlasting shame, I would not only
remember the terror and violence of that night, but the stunning
force of the orgasms he'd forced from me--mind shattering eruptions
that came from God only knew what dark part of myself. But that's
not the worst of it....I might as well confess further....It wasn't
just the memory of the orgasms that would send my nether regions
into a frenzy and set my whole body afire with lust. I wish I could
say it was just that...then maybe I would've felt halfway
normal....maybe. What bothered me the most was how the memory of the
terror, helplessness and pain would bring on the same reaction.
How could the horrible memory of how the knife felt against
my throat while being forced to swallow his cock make me throb?? How
crazy was I to be able to bring myself to a crashing orgasm while
remembering the rope around my neck, cutting off my air...re-living
how it felt to face certain death while being painfully sodomized??
I'm no closer to understanding these things than I was when it
happened, during those terribly strange days after the attack when I
was forced by my own shame and guilt to stay silent and pretend it
never happened. I was hoping that over time I could even believe my
own charade.
*******
I had gotten to a point in my life when I no longer thought
about Chuck and what happened that night every second of the day.
I'd pushed the whole incident into the deepest part of my secret
self. It seemed the best way to make it all go away. I still hadn't
told anyone, although I wrote several more rape stories that had
gained something of a dubious popularity on the net. My readers were
impressed with the realistic edge my tales of peril seemed to have.
I just smiled and kept writing. At least it gave me an outlet
without having to confront all these conflicted feelings of rage and
arousal.
The day I discovered American Psycho had come out on video
something shifted inside me and that night came back to me. At first
I passed it by, unable to even look at the picture or writing on the
box. Then I was annoyed with myself for my cowardice and rented it
after all. I reasoned that I'd been wanting to see the damn movie,
and he hadn't let me, so why should I let him stop me from seeing it
now?
Good attitude....Bad idea.
I was shocked and thought I must be losing my mind when the
first close-up of the actor playing the title role revealed a
startling resemblance to my rapist. Why the hell did he have to look
like him?? Surely I was only seeing things because of the connection
between that movie and that night, but I still saw Chuck when I
looked at him. Several times I resisted the impulse to just turn it
off, but I sat thru it all with grim determination. The dude playing
Patrick Bateman was NOT Chuck, dammit! He was a handsome, very
talented actor named Christian Bale, and I was just being
ridiculous!
That night I had terrible nightmares about being chased down
a hallway by a crazed naked man who was covered in blood and weilding
a chainsaw. That happened to be a scene from the movie, but in my
dream it wasn't Patrick Bateman that chased me. Do I really need to
say who it was? I haven't had nightmares over a stupid movie since I
was a kid!
The anger I'd never really dealt with took even deeper root
after that. For a time after the nightmare, I would feel pure anger
and nothing else when I remembered that night. Those pesky sexual
stirrings even went away....to my relief. The anger felt good and I
latched onto it.
I'd been blaming myself for so long, and still did to a
certain extent, but in my mind at least, Chuck finally began to share
in the blame. Ok, so I'd teased him. Ok, so I'd been tricked into
giving him too much information. Ok, so I'd roleplayed the part of
his victim perfectly during our computer chats. Did any of that give
him the right to make me his victim for real?? Some of you may say
no, of course not. Some would probably say Hell YES. To those I
would say this-- there's assholes everywhere, so who cares what you
think?
Soon I became angry with myself for hiding from Chuck
online. Why should I hide? He couldn't hurt me over the computer.
My anger was growing more every day and I decided it was time to face
him again. Vague ideas of seeking some sort of revenge were trying
to form, although I had no clue what I could possibly do to him...but
the thought of making him pay somehow was too seductive to ignore
once it entered my head. I unblocked him, and waited.
I didn't have long to wait before the messages began again.
Our first conversation was something like this;
Chuck: Where have you been?
Heather: Nowhere. I've had you blocked.
Chuck: I see. So why did you unblock me?
Heather: I was hoping maybe you'd dropped dead. No
such luck.
Chuck: How have you been?
Heather: None of your business.
Our exchanges were like that for a while. My nastiness never
seemed to bother him much. He was almost sickeningly nice despite my
hostility. He started being weird again before long, telling me he
wanted me again, quite desperately, and that he just knew I wanted
him too. I told him to get bent, eat shit, go fuck himself, and a
host of other charming sentiments when he would say those things, but
nothing I said would make him mad enough to leave me alone. I was
getting flustered and beginning to wonder why the hell I'd unblocked
him. My idea of revenge was going nowhere.
Then one night it hit me....a real plan. It would be
dangerous, maybe even deadly if I messed it up. Oh, but if it
worked! Oh yes...The Vile Gamer would learn something about
helplessness, pain and humiliation. It would be a lesson he
wouldn't soon forget either.
The cautious part of me, the side of myself that worked so
hard to pretend that night had never happened and move on with my
life was horrified to say the least. Sometimes I was nearly
overwhelmed with the madness of what I was planning, and tried to
make myself stop. But there was a part of me that couldn't pretend
anymore. It was angry all the time and punished my rational mind
with flashbacks and nightmares whenever I thought of backing down.
Finally it came down to either doing this thing or going mad.
While I was busy gathering things I would need and working
out the details in my mind, I gradually became more friendly with
Chuck. I admitted to him how part of me still became aroused when I
remembered what happened, although it galled me to tell him this. I
refused to agree to another "meeting" at first, pretending fear and
guilt over my conflicted feelings (and let's face it, pretending such
a thing wasn't that much of a stretch). Eventually, I pretended to
let him talk me into it. It wasn't hard to make him believe I wanted
another encounter as much as he did, since his ego was already
convinced of it.
I told him I would get the room this time. I told him that
one of my hottest fantasies was to be awakened, then taken in my bed
by an "intruder". Since my own bed was out of the question, another
hotel bed would have to do. I told him I'd leave him a key at the
front desk. Chuck was nearly ecstatic over the idea.
"I knew you'd come around!", he wrote, adding "I think I
might even bring a surprise for you this time".
"That would be nice", I replied, but didn't think about it
any further. I cared nothing for his surprise, because he was the
one who had a surprise waiting. Maybe I should have thought about it.
* * * *
The night of my carefully planned revenge on the Vile Gamer
finally came. It had taken over a month to get ready for it...both
the details and my nerve. I was very nervous and more than a little
scared, but his day of reckoning was here and I was determined to go
thru with it.
I could barely hold the key to the room, my fingers were
trembling so badly. A duplicate was waiting at the front desk, as
I'd promised, for a "Mr. Black" to claim it. I eventually managed to
keep my own key steady enough to unlock the door, and quickly ducked
into the room I'd reserved earlier that week.
Once again it was a Saturday night, and I told my husband
that I was going to the movies. I'm sure he was glad I was out of
the house since I'd been very much on edge all that week. I blamed
it on my job. My poor darling....I felt terribly guilty to be lying
to him this way; but it wasn't like I was planning to cheat on him
or anything. I was getting revenge for him too, even if he didn't
know it.
He told me he thought a movie night would do me good since it
had been so long since my last one. He had no idea it was stark
terror, rather than disinterest which kept me away from the theater.
Just the thought of sitting in that parking lot again made me shudder
and nearly cry. The relaxing and innocent fun of my movie nights was
ruined forever for me now--something else Chuck was going to pay
for. I hoped.
Now here I was, not in the dreaded theater parking lot where
the bastard could possibly show up again, but in a room where he most
definitely would show up (of that I had no doubt), with a key to get
in waiting for him. The irony was a bit much.
I set the shopping bag I'd brought with me on the bed and
quickly began to prepare. He would be here very soon and I didn't
have much time. When my other preparations were in place I stripped
off my sweater, jeans, bra and panties, then donned a silky black
teddy I'd bought just for this occasion. I turned off all the lights
except for a corner lamp, which I covered with a sheer black nylon
scarf. Doing this cast the room into semi-darkness with only a
softly muted glow to see by. For what I was planning I needed as
much darkness as possible, but still be able to see.
I pulled back the covers of the bed and slipped between the
cool sheets, positioning myself to look as if I were sleeping. This
was how he expected to find me so we could play out my "fantasy".
As I lay there on my side, one hand under my pillow, I
touched the object I had hidden there and wondered for the zillionth
time if I could really go through with this crazy scheme. I'd never
done anything this dangerous in my entire life. I felt very
vulnerable despite my careful plans. I was terrified, but at this
point in the game it didn't matter. He would be here any moment and
I had no choice anymore...there was no turning back. The only way
out (besides trying to run, then and there) would be to hide my
hidden object somewhere else and go thru with what Chuck thought we
were going to do, which was spend the next several hours being used
and abused by him again. I ignored the damn lying tingle this
thought caused and was more determined than ever to go thru with MY
plan, not his.
On and on my mind raced and pondered while I waited for him,
and I was so wound up that I had to clench my teeth to keep from
screaming when I heard his key in the lock. I forced myself to take
a few deep breaths when I heard the door slowly open. Since I was
supposed to be pretending sleep, I screwed my eyes tightly shut as I
heard him approach, but they flew open again when I heard his voice.
"Heatherrrr...", he half-whispered.
I jumped, startled despite knowing he was there, and looked
up at him. He was cloaked in shadows, yet I recognized him
immediately. Seeing his face again nearly froze my blood and I
feared I wouldn't have the nerve after all.
A kalaidescope of terrifying images flashed thru my mind's
eye....his switchblade at my open car window....his mocking sneers
and laughter....his handsome features contorted in rage at my
attempted escape....the sight of my own face in the mirror when it
was over-- the bruises, the swollen lips, the rope burns and smeared
blood. I didn't expect this paralyzing parade of
flashbacks.....Ohgod, I COULDN'T just freeze like this!!
He laughed somewhat nervously it sounded like, then spoke
again.
"Just making double sure I have the right room. Wow...do I
ever! look at you..."
Without further preamble he sat on the bed beside me and
began touching me....my face....my neck...my hair. Then his hands
boldly moved down to my breasts, fondling and squeezing till my
nipples sprang to attention under the thin silky material that
covered them. I gazed up at him, my heart pounding. I was nearly
sick with nerves and fright now that the moment was at hand.
"Lookin good, Babe...",
His voice was roughened with lust. His breathing became
heavy with excitement as he continued to explore my body.
My traitorous bitch of a cunt was suddenly alive and wet.
How easy it would have been to just submit to his expert
handling....to surrender to the dark longings his touches awakened in
me....to let go and be his victim one more time....after all it would
have been way less dangerous than what I was planning...I was
appalled to hear my own excited gasps and moans.....ooohhhhh...
NO!!! I snapped out of the hypnotic pull of my own arousal...I knew
I must NOT let this happen!!! How could I allow myself to consider
it even for a moment?? How could I possibly allow myself to be
seduced by the man I hated most in the world?
I stiffened and jerked away from him...and from his evil
seductive power over me. I shoved him hard as I squirmed away from
his touches. He was laughing quietly at my sudden struggle,
believing the game was about to start in earnest.
"So....my little bitch wants to play rough again...fine with
me". He smiled and pulled his shirt over his head. It was now or
never.
As Chuck was removing his shirt, and before I could weaken
again, I quickly shoved my hand back under the pillow and groped for
the thing I had hidden there. It was a stun-gun...advertised to send
enough volts thru an attacker to render him unconscious, but cause no
real or lasting harm. I'd found it on the internet, and had set this
date with Chuck only after it was delivered. With no time to further
ponder the matter of could I do it, I drove it into his side while
his shirt was over his head and squeezed the trigger. He never saw
it coming.
There was a horrifying split second when I was sure it hadn't
worked. He had been poised over my body, ready to grab at me again,
when he suddenly stiffened, making no noise except for a strangled
grunt, then fell onto me...pinning me to the bed with his dead weight.
He lay across me, silent and motionless. I began to feel
panic as I squirmed and struggled to get out from beneath him. I
didn't know how long his paralysis would last, but for those frantic
moments I was sure he'd come out of it before I could free myself.
That would be just my luck, after all.
Gathering all my strength, I finally managed to scoot out
from under him, and promptly fell to the floor on my behind. While
down there, I quickly rolled onto my stomach and reached for the
closest restraint.
Earlier I'd tied four seperate lengths of strong rope tightly
to each of the bed's legs, hiding the loose ends under the bed itself
so nothing would be visible in the darkness. Now I seized one of the
ends that would restrain one of Chuck's wrists--the wrists, of course
would have to be tied first so he couldn't grab me if he came out of
it before I was finished. Scrambling to my feet with the free end of
the rope clutched in my fist, I was instantly dismayed to realize I
would have to roll him over and do quite a bit of shoving to get him
positioned right. Oh Great!! , I thought. He's going to come out of
it for sure now. Why the hell hadn't I thought of that before??
I was still grimly determined to finish what I'd set in
motion, so with many a grunt and curse I somehow managed to get him
turned onto his back and more or less in the middle of the bed.
Despite my growing panic I forced myself to tie the knots good on
each wrist, making sure they were where he couldn't reach them with
his fingers. I heaved a sigh of relief when I was satisfied that
both wrists were tightly restrained, then moved to the foot of the
bed where I fished out the ends that would tie his ankles.
I was halfway finished restraining his second ankle when
Chuck began to stir. I nearly panicked but fought the urge to stun
him again. Instead, I threw my leg over his and sat on it while I
finished tying the last knot.
He was groaning when I stepped off the bed, but not quite
aware yet of what had happened. I stood there, absently rubbing my
sore bottom where I'd landed on it earlier, and observed with
trepidation my captive's return to consciousness.
*****
To be Continued....
