-------------------------------------------------------------
The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
-------------------------------------------------------------
- This story is part of the Ravished in a Flash 2.0 Tournament
- It competes against Violet Spring Invasion in the QF-4 match
- Theme: All By Myself
-------------------------------------------------------------
Conclusive Evidence
The camera was running, capturing a quintessential – some might say cliché – BDSM dungeon. Steel and leather, black and violet. A keen eye might have noticed that some of the implements of torture on display where not well suited for mere “play”.
They had an excuse though, as the centrepiece of the display captured the attention. Young miss Nicole Lewis, naked and spread-eagled on an St. Andrews Cross. Her pale skin, and blonde hair a stark contrast to the dark dungeon. She had been gagged and blindfolded. She had no clue where she was or how she got there.
John Randall, her soon to be rapist stood by, clad in baggy black overalls and a hood. Almost invisible in the shadows. Nicoles reactions to her surroundings varied from silent crying, over trying to beg through her oversized ball gag, to fighting against her bonds. Randall merely observed for a while and just as he stepped forward he was stopped by the clamour of someone running down the stairs. He sighed. With hanging shoulders he waited, more annoyed than anything.
The door flew open and Paul Nevin, Randalls partner in crime stumbled in.
“Yo what the fuck dude!” he exclaimed as he took the scene in. Randall pointed towards the camera, to keep the other, unmasked, man out of view.
“Go away!” he growled in his unmistakable raspy voice. Nicole, realising she was no longer alone in the room had become lively. Her heavy breast jiggling enticingly.
“You really went through with it, huh?!” Paul asked, his voice somewhere between impressed, angry and shocked.
“GO AWAY!”
Ignoring the enraged Randall he asked: “So, how long before the police gets us?”
“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot Paulie? At least once a week you ask me that, and did it ever happen? I am Brain, you are Pinky, get it?”
“Man, drugs and stolen goods, but this?” Paul said, his voice becoming increasingly nervous. “They have ways. I’ve seen enough true crime. A hair, some skin flakes…”
Randall shook his head: “Yeah. I plan all of this, build all of this, and then snatch up the neighbour in broad daylight, or what? She is some broad from Europe. Backpacking tourist out in the country. Traveling alone. Her phone sunk in a river three hours from here. I have no criminal record, and I wore the necessary protective equipment.”
“Ok, ok” Paul answered, calming down. “You just freaked me out, is all.” And after a few seconds of silence: “She looks hot! This will be fun”
Randall crossed the distance to Paul in an instant. “What do you mean? You think you will get some?” The tone of his voice had shifted. Rage and frustration gave rise to cold calculated anger.
“Hey, we are partners…”
Randall cut him off. “No we are not. Not partners, nor friends. I do the thinking, and most of the work, while you smoke weed. If nothing changes you are just my employee. You didn’t want a part in this when I suggested it, because you are a scared pussy. You didn’t help me build this” His gesture encompassed the room.
“I tell you something. Go upstairs, and do your job. Every task, in full, not half assed, for a week. Then I might let you in on the fun. But until then: I will be the one to fuck this slut. I will be the one to fondle those funbags. I’ll whip her. I’ll shock her. I’ll put my dick balls deep into all her holes!”
As he was speaking he had become ever louder, drowning out the crying and screaming from Nicole. He pulled a Taser out of his pocket
“And now Pinky” he said, using the new nickname “GET OUT! Before I fry your balls”
At this point I stop the recording and face the shocked Jurors. The courtroom is dead silent.
“Thanks to Mister Randalls excursion in filmmaking, we have some conclusive evidence. It is true that my client is guilty of many crimes. And there is a lot to be said about his character, or rather lack thereof”
I shush Paul Nevin with a subtle but curt hand signal before he can run his mouth in front of the judge again. Just because it is my duty to defend him to the best of my ability, that does not mean I have to tell obvious lies to the court. And it will actually help him if he is not painted as paragon of righteousness by his lawyer when the sighting of the evidence would clearly show scum
“But!” I say a bit dramatically, holding up my index finger. “Even though circumstantial evidence, and a fraudulent statement made my client highly suspicious. And while he will have to answer for his own wrongdoings, he is not guilty of THIS”
I point my finger at the big screen, still showing the naked form of Nicole Lewis, in a sweeping gesture. It is tasteless, but the young woman herself lobbied to have as much material as possible shown to the court. To hammer the point home. To add up the years behind bars.
“No. One man is guilty of kidnapping, torturing and raping Miss Lewis. Guilty of doing all the despicable things we just heard him say he would do, and more. One man is responsible” I say, finally pointing my finger accusingly at John Randall.
“All by himself!”