Erotimaniac

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" Ethan asked as he thrust into

Emiko, savoring the feel of her pussy. He still couldn't believe he was

fucking the woman of his dreams. He whispered, "It's amazing."

The couple were having sex on a thin mattress in the main room of the

basement, between Emiko's modified bedroom and the laundry machines.

Sweat glistening on their bodies, the pair fucked in the doggystyle position

– a classic. Of course, the sex was not consensual. The rape was also livestreamed on an adult webcam website through Ethan's laptop – and the

audience was unaware of the crime.

As he stared at the webcam, Ethan smirked and said, "She likes it. She

loves it. I know all of you love it, too. I'm back, baby!"

Ethan only wore a black mask with holes on his eyes and mouth. The

rest of his muscular figure was presented for the world to see. His face was

covered, so he figured he was anonymous.

Against her will, Emiko was given a new outfit for the adult show. She

wore a cupless halter bra, revealing her perky breasts, and a crotchless gstring. Her head was covered with a black hood, which also featured a

padded blindfold. There was a hole for her mouth, but her mouth was

muffled with a large red ball gag. She was handcuffed at the wrists and

ankles, too.

As Ethan violently thrust into her, fucking her as if he had something to

prove, Emiko whimpered. She could not speak or scream, she could only

cry. The audience couldn't see her tears, though, and her whimpers sounded

like moans of pleasure due to the gag. He was not penetrating her too

deeply, he was packing four-inches after all, but the sex was still painful.

The blisters around her vagina were aggravated with each thrust. Rape

was always painful, too.

Emiko wheezed and grunted, struggling to breathe through the mask and

gag. Her stomach turned, her heart shattered, and her mind crumbled. She

couldn't think clearly. She felt as if her body were invaded by a foreign

object. Sex was supposed to be natural, a part of human nature, but it felt

surreal to her.

She slumped her head down, planting her forehead on the mattress. She

felt numb from head-to-toe – a tingling sensation across her entire body.

She could only count the seconds until her captor finished, but each

dreadful second felt like a minute. She couldn't whisk herself away from the

rape, either.

The racket in the room always brought her back – grunting, moaning,

clanking. The clanking sound came from the laptop. It was the sound of

coins clashing against each other, like the sound of someone winning at a

slot machine. The sound emerged each time the audience donated tokens to

the couple.

After the show, the tokens could be exchanged for money on the website

– one token equaled five cents, and every penny counted. The audience did

not approve of rape – most of them didn't, at least. They believed they were

watching a sadomasochistic show. They thought it was consensual.

Emiko knew about the audience and the tokens, too. Ethan told her about

the website and his plans before setting up the show. The fact made her feel

helpless. The world was watching, but no one was helping her.

Abandonment was difficult to accept.

Without stopping, Ethan leaned forward and whispered, "Wanna try a

different position or are you close to cumming?"

Emiko cried upon hearing the question. The answer was obviously 'no,'

but her words were incomprehensible. She couldn't refuse. Saliva dripped

from her mouth and mucus soaked her mask as she hysterically sobbed. She

could barely breathe, too.

Ethan grabbed her waist, then he flipped her onto her back. He placed

his hand around Emiko's neck as she tried to wiggle off of the mattress – he

wasn't going to let her escape. He pulled her down to the center of the

mattress, then he leaned closer to her ear.

He whispered, "Don't do it, Emiko. I'll stop the stream and I'll teach you

another lesson if I have to. Don't make me hurt you. Just enjoy the show."

Although she could not see, Emiko turned her cheek to Ethan and looked

the other way. A million thoughts ran through her mind, but only one roared

over the others: survive. Ethan leaned over Emiko's body and stared at the

laptop as he continued to thrust. He smirked upon spotting the size of his

audience: 1,024 viewers. He glanced at the comments.

A viewer wrote: Wow, she is so beautiful. Amazing body.

In Spanish, a user wrote: Eso llamo una buena chica.

Another user wrote: She is gorgeous. Let her ride you, I wanna see her

ass.

Reading a few more comments out loud, Ethan said, "Gorgeous... She's

beautiful... She has a great body... Please do more shows with her."

He grinned from ear-to-ear, satisfied with the positive feedback. The

compliments were aimed at Emiko, but he took them for himself. Emiko

was his lover after all. I have a beautiful wife, he thought, the whole world

is jealous. The smile slowly vanished from his face, reversing into a frown.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head – confused and offended.

He whispered, "What the hell is this?"

A user commented: This guy isn't fucking her right. Fucking idiot.

Another user, a female member according to her profile, wrote: LOL he's

so small! Is that his cock or pinky? (The message was followed by an emoji

with tears of joy.)

An anonymous viewer wrote: I could fuck your bitch better than you,

bro.

All of the negativity was aimed at Ethan, mocking his size and poor

skill. He stared down at Emiko, then at his penis. He became flaccid due to

the negative comments, shriveled up like a raisin – about that size, too. He

indistinctly muttered to himself, struggling to contain his rage.

Emiko was unaware of the situation. She rested on her back, waiting for

the rape to end.

Ethan crawled over Emiko's body and approached the laptop. He jabbed

his finger at the webcam and barked, "Fuck you! Fuck all of you! We're

giving you a show here! You should be grateful to be able to watch. These

little five-cent donations are nothing. You hear me, you cheap, lonely

bastards? You should pay us a hundred tokens just to watch! No, a

thousand!"

Ethan stopped his rant. He hoped he ended the trolling in the chat room

through his powerful speech. Unfortunately, nothing could stop an

anonymous troll. He only fed them, which only made them stronger.

Another user commented: Just shut up and fuck her already. Or pay

someone else to fuck her and watch from the corner.

Teary-eyed, Ethan said, "That's what you want, but you won't get it. You

wish you could have a woman like her, you wish you were me. You're all

wrong, though. You wouldn't be able to love her right. You don't understand

the... the process of making love. No, you can't have her..."

Tears trickled from his eyes with each blink as he read the comments.

The messages were toxic, filled with anonymous hatred. Although a few

users offered sympathy, especially towards Emiko, most of the viewers

hurled every possible insult at Ethan. He was attacked from every corner.

His unusual rants only added fuel to the fire.

Ethan closed the laptop, then he smashed the computer on the floor. A

crunching sound echoed through the room. The plastic chipped and

scattered across the basement. He swung the laptop at the floor again,

which launched more of the plastic across the room. He repeatedly smashed

the laptop on the floor.

Between each hit, he said, "She... is... mine! I love her! And... and she

loves me! You can't have her, damn it!"

Out of breath, he tossed the obliterated laptop aside. He removed his

mask, then he glanced over his shoulder and furrowed his brow. During his

fit of rage, he didn't notice Emiko had crawled to the corner beside the

laundry machine. She glanced every which way, like a drug addict suffering

from a bad trip.

Ethan grabbed Emiko's wrists, then he dragged her across the basement.

He pulled her into the small room. Despite her resistance, he was able to

secure the shackle on her ankle to chain her to the wall. He removed the

ball gag from her mouth, then he yanked the hood off of her head.

He gazed into her bloodshot eyes and said, "This was a bad idea. I'm

sorry, but I... I just can't be around a whore like you – not now. I need some

time to think."

He grabbed a set of keys from the floor near the doorway. Emiko

watched as he unlocked the handcuffs around her wrists and ankles. He

seemed calm, but she could feel the anger brewing inside of him. She

couldn't muster the courage to challenge him, though.

As Emiko crawled onto her bed, Ethan walked to the doorway and said,

"I can't even look at you right now. I'll... I'll come bring you a fresh set of

clothes after I clear my mind. You just... just stay here and think about

everything you've done. Good night, Emiko. I... I still love you."

Ethan locked the door behind him, then he departed from the basement.

Emiko wrapped the blanket around her body and stared at the door. She

tried to stay silent so she wouldn't bother Ethan, but she wasn't strong

enough. She snorted and wheezed as she broke down. She couldn't keep her

facade afloat. The pain, emotional and physical, was insufferable.