Three Rapes on the Trail Part 2 by OverAndOut ,
Sara has survived her encounter, but something stirs inside her.
This story does NOT contain scat or other fetishes based on bodily functions. However, part one does. If you aren’t into that, a synopsis is below. If you are, please read that first.
Part 1 Synopsis: Three women are kidnapped and put underground. They wander together until finding an eldritch horror that viciously rapes them. Sara’s story continues below.
Dust skittered across the room as a light breeze blew in through an open bedroom window. Sun speckled curtains brushed past balled clothes that rested, unwashed on the wooden floor. The tweeting of birds preparing for the day coaxed the woman in the bed from her slumber. Sara jolted awake, gasping for air as the pains of a nightmare left her body. Cotton sheets bunched in her clutch. The lingering tastes of dirt and bodily fluids from the dungeon in her dreams drifted away. She looked around her bedroom and flexed her toes, testing reality. Her battered body on the damp dirt floor flickered in her mind. It was the most vivid dream she had ever had. But it was fading, like all dreams, the details lost to conscious thought.
Sara rolled over and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. It was Monday and she was a little late. Her muscular legs propelled her through her morning routine with speed. A white blouse draped loosely under her grey blazer and slacks. She shoved graded papers into her briefcase and hustled out the door before running back in to grab duffle of gym clothes. Her car rolled past town houses that peppered the street in concise plots, full of people starting their days. She knew she was late, but savored the sun that had warmed her car like an oven on this cool Spring morning. Every moment felt so special in the sun, the reason prickled in the back of her mind as dirt flashed in her mind. The dream wouldn’t shake. With a swivel of the volume knob she quickly forgot it again.
Her black shoes tapped up the concrete steps to the glass doors affixed with “Brookview Public High-School.” Keys jangled in the lock and the door flashed yellow in the morning light.
“Mornin’, Ms. Williamson,” said a girl in the hall, hunched over a notebook on the floor.
Sara smiled, “Good morning, Grace.”
Paint wafted from an open door as a few students worked on sets for the end of year musical. Summer was just around the corner and the pupils buzzed with anticipation. Freedom at last.
Silence was interrupted only by the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional footsteps beyond the wood and glass door. She sat catlike by an open window, her brown hair glowing in the sunlight, as she finished grading a few papers. English was surprisingly difficult for native English speakers, apparently. A “C” followed by “Not your best work” glinted red before it dried. Sara relaxed into her rhythm and before she knew it there were raucous hoots and shouting from students echoing down the halls. First period was upon her. She sighed and got up to open the door. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to teach, her mind was just occupied this morning. Sodden dirt filled her brain.
The clock ticked passed two when it was time.
“Okay guys,” said Sara over the chatter, “remember you have a short essay due next week. If you want to groan about it we can make it longer!”
Pens clattered to the floor and papers were stuffed unceremoniously into backpacks. She turned and began erasing the board.
“Ms. Williamson?” said a girl with curly blonde hair.
“Hi, Lucy, what’s up,” said Sara, turning around. A few boys’ eyes shot up to her face. Boys will be boys.
“Well, I’m going to be gone the day the paper is due, we have a track meet in Peoria. Can I give it to you on Wednesday instead?”
“Yeah, that should be fine, my girls are going for their meet, too. Wouldn’t be fair if I just gave them an extension.”
“Thanks, Ms. Williamson!”
She smiled as Lucy bounced out the door “Good luck, run fast!”
“Make sure Ariel swims hard today,” Lucy called over her shoulder.
Sara was excited to take her girls to state. The varsity team had worked so hard, training all season, even off season. They deserved it. She glanced at the clock as her next class came through the door, just a few more hours. Coaching the swim team was her favorite part of her life. She had been a swimmer for a long time, but was never quite elite athlete material. That didn’t stop her from enjoying it. The feel of water gliding along her body, the smell of chlorine, it was all so perfect.
The shadow of the building lay across the grass outside the window as her last class packed up their things. She gave the same reminder and received the same groans. Kids will always abhor homework, of course.
Sara packed her things in her quiet classroom and walked back to her car. She didn’t like to have her gym bag sitting in class ever since Danny had been caught trying to open it. Teenage boys are so thirsty, she thought. The lock clicked on the door to the locker-room and she undressed. In the mirror she saw her yellow panties and her dream rushed up to meet her. Her holes stretched beyond possibility, stuffed with thick, veiny tentacles.
“Ugh,” she shuddered.
In the mirror she watched herself reach down tentatively into her panties. Slowly over her abs and beneath her waistband, coarse hair ran between her fingers and she felt her labia. She breathed a sigh of relief, everything was normal. Her reflection smiled back at her and a tentative laugh echoed off the white tiled walls. There was a queasiness in her stomach, like hunger but not for food. Sara noticed her hard nipples that pointed lightward from her swooping breasts. Bumps dappled her pink areolas, getting smaller as the edges vanished into soft, milky skin. She liked her body, she had worked hard for it. For years sweat had dripped from every pore as she pumped her body. Her perky butt was caressed in her sunshine yellow underwear, lightly dimpled with goosebumps from the cool locker-room. Toned legs like pier supports held her steady, despite the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sara eyed herself almost with attraction. She flexed in the mirror and watched her stomach turn to stone, her biceps into iron. Her breasts lifted with her pectorals, making them perkier. Suddenly, she became aware that she was turned on. Confusion crossed her face as she wondered why she had been looking at herself like this. Her nipples sent electricity to her nethers as she crossed an arm to cover them. With that she left the mirror, her brow furrowed with confusion.
On went her sports bra and shirt along with her shorts, covering her body from wandering eyes, mostly hers. She hung her clothes hung neatly in the locker and went out to the pool, squatting at its edge. It smelled like chlorine.
Soon, six young women came through the double doors, all talking and laughing with one another.
“Saturday was chill,” said one with red hair.
“I can’t believe you invited Jason to your party,” said another tall girl.