Feminist No More [RP w/Brek]

[FormerTomBoy]

I try not to stand out to avoid becoming a target while I also seek out others to target. I've told myself that if Riley Gaines ever counter protest against us that I'd attack her. That is reason I have said that I'd approve of her rape and assault in what I believe are private group emails and texts. I'm not dressed for church or a funeral but I am wearing both white and dark colors as I prepare to wear a mask and hold a sign.

My black boots are short and feel like athletic shoes as I walk. They offer comfort and security to my feet for long period of walking that might include running and kicking. I'm aware some would like me to kick and scream but I won't do that as far as I'm concerned. Up my legs are my black jeans which include a holster on my leg for a can of spray paint as I like to paint buildings and cars when I protest. Though that is a last resort for me. My belt helps keep my jeans on my waist as I can't allow someone to pull my jeans off to disable me.

There is some white under my clothes, but nobody will ever know as long as I have a say in what they see and do. My long sleeve shirt and a jacket are also black with the jacket having some leather that isn't the real material as that would be wrong. Yet, I do own a real leather jacket back home because sometimes I don't believe in the cause I support with violence and hatred. I also own a leather skirt because it makes me feel sexy, but I rarely want to feel sexy anymore because not many men know how to really treat a woman and I'm also not ready to be like Spencer and go out with a woman.

Brek's words begin to blend in and sound all to common from what I've heard from others. "Let's go!" I suggest to those gathered around us. It is a cool day now, but I think it will be a warm afternoon so I hope we can conclude our protest before it gets hot for this time of year. Though, I did see a pool at the hotel I've been staying at as I prepared for today. I'm unaware my hotel room is being ransacked right this minute as I lead us down Church Street in Nashville towards Rosa Parks Blvd.

"She was a great leader of a movement!" I remark as I see signage for the street named after a groundbreaking woman. I doubt anybody will ever name a street after me. I don't even mention wanting one named after me because I know that is a idea I should keep in my mind and not share. "Look out boss!" I hear a woman speak to me as a rock misses me. It was barely size of a quarter. Some guys drag the guy that threw it away and he runs off when they let go of him. I get an alert on my phone about my hotel room, but I don't check my phone right now and ignore the vibration.

[Brek]

In the chaos that starts to pick up, first the standard confrontation with others and the routine of protest then the escalation, you begin to lose track of me. I smile to myself as I call out, "Protect All Women!" I think about how some of my fellow incels call pussies "roasties". Sour grapes. But I'll soon be enjoying the actually very sweet grapes. Everything is prepared at home to make sure you disappear and never are discovered.

Having hacked into your booking system, I've issued a cancellation. This will in turn help to establish a narrative that you knew full well things would get out of hand. My associates are going through your bags, splitting up panties and bras, sending everything else to a storage unit I have.

I see you focusing on signage, see the intensity in your expression, knowing your desire to be more acknowledged, knowing an arrogance underneath faux humility. It just further drives my conviction.

The rock causes some yelling and accusations. Someone falls among the pro-Riley protesters and the anti-feminist protesters. Another one on "our" side says, "Stomp fascists!" and charges forward. Things rapidly escalate. The police begin to tighten the cordon, calling out, first splitting a few people up then forming a line.

Amidst it all, I cut through the chaos of bodies and grab your hand. I wonder if you'll start thinking about my strength and composure. "Come on!", I say, seeming slightly concerned, letting the manufactured chaos allow me to pose as if the danger is greater than it is. "I have a truck nearby. We need to get out of here!" Acting as if I will brook no compromise out of concern, I start leading you, pulling you past bodies as a tear gas canister cracks fifty feet away from us, the plumes covering our escape as I go through a basement containing mannequins and bolts of cloths...

[FormerTomBoy]

I can hide fear and have to do that now when things take the usual sour turn. "Roast Pigs!" I try to encourage my followers. "Let go of... " I start to protest before I follow the hand and arm up to your body. "Brek, what are you doing?" I manage to get my words out as I see what you see and follow closely. "This is ridiculous. We need to fight, not flight," I try to establish my role in this protest, now near riot. "Pigs can't chase us away!" I remark as I see a poster of myself with a obscene drawing added to it.

"I can't keep up. Slow down, let me catch my breath," I panic and try to hold onto a chain link fence beside me as I notice a tattoo on your hand. "That's one of those right wing tats. What is it doing on your hand?" I ask as I try to stand my ground and hold you up to answer me. I'm also struck by something on my back as I hear screaming and sirens closing in on us. "Oh, Fuck!" I say as you have hold of my arm and I try to go opposite direction of you and what is coming towards us from behind.

There are four directions I can go, but you seem to control the one I don't want to go now. "No....." I scream in protests. I'm not liking the idea of going in your truck anymore. Gas makes it hard for me to breath and see. I fear I'm being led to my death now as I begin to cough. "Help!" I revert to being a fragile woman and call for help. You've now seen the true me and it's that of a weak woman with a sexy body.

[Brek]

We are soon a good distance from the chaos, the basement cutting us through a block. As you start to scream, I cover your mouth with my hand. "Shut up, bitch", I growl. "You've been teasing me way too long with that ass of yours and it's time you pay up like the whore we both know you are". I was hoping this abduction would be more quiet, but I knew that my truck blocked the only CCTV that even had a chance of seeing anything. I lift you up onto my shoulder, the one hand over your mouth with the elbow pinned on your neck ready to silence you more forcefully if needed, the other wrapped around your hips. I slap your ass through the slacks.

Carrying you bodily, we are soon in my truck, in the backseat. My hand starts to grope at your breasts through the button-up top and my mouth silences yours with a hungry, angry kiss. After swirling my tongue around in your mouth, my angry eyes, now quite clear about my intent, stares into yours. "Now, bitch", I growl, "the riot will take a little bit of time to clear for us to be able to drive out without attracting any attention. So you and I are going to get to know each other". I put your soft hand on my jean crotch, knowing you will feel massive balls and a cock rapidly becoming erect.

[FormerTomBoy]

My hate for the other side and men are real. I'm not a lesbian so while I do prefer men when it comes to sex, I never prefer sex unless I want to have it. The first time I had sex when I didn't want to have sex has been my motivation to be a feminist for better part of the last two decades. The moment you place your hand over my mouth is a reminder of the first time a man hurt me. When you also call me a bitch, I'm filled with shock as I've been caught by you. As you label me a tease and explain payback being on your mind, I try to fight back. I tried to reach for the paint can as it could blind you, but you manage to make it fall to ground before I can grab it.

"Mmmmmmm," I can only try to scream as you keep my mouth covered and lift me off my feet. I'm an average size woman and easily lifted over your shoulder. The moment you manage to slap, no spank me is a moment that reminds me of my previous altercations in which I was victimized. I'm aware that some think of me as a rape magnet because it seems to find me with ease. Something tells me that you are aware of my past and that you might find more joy in creating a new future for me.

"Don't...." I try to protest as I'm shoved inside the backseat of a large truck. I flare my hands in defense of your assault as I feel you counter to grope at my body. When you give me an angry kiss, I try to bite you and you counter by shoving your disgusting tongue down my throat. "Noooooo!" I can barely scream as you set the rules. As you drag one of my hands to your crotch, I attempt to slap you with my other hand. I'm in shock as you force my first hand to grab your package. "Oh, No!" I express disbelief and shock as my latest assault has begun. "Who the fuck are you?" I ask as the answer means lot to me.

[Brek]

I feel your response, delayed in some ways, automatic in others, and my suspicions are indeed confirmed: you were indeed violated by someone else before. That somehow brings me a great surge of jealousy. Oh well. I'll make sure they're a distant memory compared to me.

I put my hand to your throat and say, "Do I need to gag you, bitch? Are you going to be a problem"? In reality, in the noise in the area, no one is going to notice something in a parking lot. My truck is designed to have additional acoustic dampening and soundproofing, and so you would need to really fight to get out. I see that the camera in the backseat is recording, and also see that the locks have engaged.

Hearing your question, as I reach to the shirt, I grab at the lapel and start tearing. Buttons plink inside the car. "I'm your kidnapper", I growl. "I'm here to teach you a lesson and put you in your place. I haven't had sex in four years because of bitches like you and you're going to pay for it". It's hardly the time to explain the forums, the plan, the Discord meetings, where I get my money... my hands go to grope your chest as I push you onto the backseat, holding you down with my weight.

[FormerTomBoy]

I instantly fear for my life when you put a hand to my throat and squeeze. I'm a woman who does enjoy speaking in front of a camera, but I would not enjoy the kind of camera time you are secretly giving me now. I can barely focus on my own heart beat, which is fast at the moment.

I want to say you will need to gag me but when you called me bitch. I lost a train of thought about gag subject. Then your ripping open my shirt and I realize I'm probably about to be raped again. "What was stopping you? You didn't have to get permission. You could've just found someone and raped her four years ago!" I respond and show I have some disregard for other women. That is because I'm only concerned about myself at the moment as you've stripped away my shirt.

"Help!" I remind myself and allow myself to call for help despite being type of woman who hates asking for help. Now just my beige bra is between my bare breasts and you. I hate that more than anything else at this very moment. I can't believe Spencer wasn't able to prevent you from having a VIP pass to my event. She is a computer hacker, but you appear to have been better at covering up your tracks than she was at finding them. I also begin to consider that what happened to her was just part of your plan to get to me.

"The dildo attack?" I ask.

[Brek]

Even I am somewhat surprised that you would throw someone else under the bus, rhetorically, that quickly. I laugh and say, "Mmmmmmm, bitch really doesn't want to toss me a lay, huh? Well, too fucking bad. Some other bitch wouldn't be as hot as you... and wouldn't deserve it as much. Coming up to me, wanting me to protect you... you can't even let the Chads fuck you! You really are the worst kind of Stacy!" I am now not bothering to disguise my absolutely aggressive incel nature.

Thus far, you're not screaming, just asking questions. I'm not going to silence you just yet. And, of course, I am proud of my cleverness. I want you to know the inescapable nature of the trap you missed. "I can't take full credit for that", I smirkingly reply to your inquiry. "The Discord figured out that would be a good way of reminding you sluts about the power of the dick. We knew you were such a paper tiger that if your dyke friend were to be taken down you'd unravel".

My mouth then descends to your left nipple as I start to hungrily suck on your full breast. You're curvier than you look under your outfits. I realize you almost certainly dressed in loose-fitting clothes (even as they seemed so starched) so as to avoid attention. My hand goes to your pants, pulling at them roughly. I don't even bother to try to unbutton them, just forcing them off your legs.

[FormerTomBoy]

Hearing you speak reinforces my own views and reminds me why I have chosen my side over your true side. I'm for things you are against and I don't see that ever changing as you also remind me that I'm hot, which is something I have never publicly admitted. Doing so would go against everything I stand for while giving your side something to use against me.

I've also become even more scared as I've seen what those like you who call yourself Chads are capable of even when some statements just aren't humanly possible. As you momentarily take time to hold discussion with me, I begin my defense of myself. I've begun to try and fight with my hands and feet as well as screaming just because those are all I can do without a weapon of some form. I had neglected to carry a knife that I occasionally do carry just in case. I feared arrest today and didn't want the pigs to find me with knife.

My attempt to save myself is brought to a crude end as you pants me and in the process even manage to take off my underwear. It was just a pair that matched my bra in color now a patch of my brownish pubic hair has become visible without my pants and underwear. "Help!" I try one last time. I did get in some licks so I don't believe the paper tiger label is still one that can be placed on me. I'm not mentally willing to face that I'm about to be raped again. Last time, it was a peer of mine so he was a feminist and the prior movement did take him out.

[Brek]

Reaching under the seat, I pull out a roll of duct tape. Quickly and ably stretching a length of it and tearing it with my teeth, I growl with annoyance and with a clear indication of my need to take control, "Guess you do need to be gagged. Can't stop fucking running your mouth". I slam it over your mouth and then hold my hand over it, now protected from the risk of an attempted bite, while reducing your oxygen intake.

My belt unbuckles. I roll the belt up tight and lift up your bottom with it, smacking your ass with the layered leather, taking care not to use the metal. I am signaling both that I will enjoy hurting you and that I am careful not to do too much damage. Then my boxers pull down. I was half-erect even as we moved through the basement, and the fight here is getting me rock hard. My balls, reminiscent of fleshy oranges, have tightened as my erection is nearing its peak. Precum drips from it.

"Fucking whore", I growl, the anger reaching its peak as I grab your legs and spread them wide. You feel my cockhead rubbing up and down on your clit, trying to find purchase. I feel you bucking as best as you can, but it's only a matter of time. One hand holds your arms down while the other grabs at your ample breasts, using them as handholds. I am lining up, letting the precum lube me so I can hammer home, letting loose years of rage on your tight body.