JackassTales…Tale # 67 …Readers; this is an entry in a Calling All Writers challenge. I am not usually a writer of ‘dark’ tales, yet the subject of this challenge is a gloomy, foggy picture with a lone woman walking through empty streets. For me, this picture inspired a violent story where a fine line between rape and reluctance is explored. This is an especially short tale, but I hope I have given readers of this narrative a complete story. I have taken the liberty of using two male characters from the pages of a famous novella from the past. My female character (Ellen) is taken from the creator of this challenge. I apologize to this lady for the rapacious forays she must make in cum-stained beds. I do allow her to find a passionate, short-lived romance to dull the painful experiences.
The Strange Case of the Cum-Stained Beds[Part one] Rape?
It had been a dark and stormy night leaving behind a lifeless, dank, and dreary early morning. Fog lay like an impenetrable blanket of unearthly mist in the near distance. Little could be seen by the human eye except the outline of houses on the right and perhaps the empty void of a park to the left. Yet, my eyesight was becoming so attuned to the hazy light that I saw a shadowy figure walking only a short interval ahead of me. It was a woman. God have mercy on me, the shapely sight I was seeing was unmistakably feminine! Heaven have mercy on ‘her’ because pussy was the pleasure I sought!
My steps quickened and I approached the woman stealthily. Few know that the safest type of blackjack that still offers knockout capability is the flat sap loaded with lead shot and no spring in the shank. Without giving notice, I struck the innocent female individual’s temple with a quick swing of my blackjack sap.
Although quite small and a relatively young man, I caught the unconscious body as it slumped towards the wet pavement below. I threw about one-hundred and thirty pounds of female over my shoulder and ran for the safety of a basement in one of those houses on the right. Once inside, I locked the door in complete darkness. This wasn’t my first abduction or flight from prying eyes.
My quickened steps lead me down a musky, unlit hallway. I finally reached a secluded bedroom which never saw the light of day. I pitched my feminine prize onto a springy, squeaky bed and then turned on a bedside lamp. Aha, fortune was my friend today! My guess was that this woman had not yet reached thirty years in age. Her face had a very pleasant beauty to it. Although she was dressed, my mind’s eye saw the shapely glory of the nudity hidden beneath. I reached for the pair of scissors lying on the lamp table.
Oops, in my haste I had forgotten the ropes! I quickly pulled my ropes from beneath the bed and secured my lady’s wrists and ankles to bedposts. My pulse quickened and my cock swelled as I studied my prize’s spread-eagled helplessness. Perhaps the doctor was correct when he said that I was a cruel, heartless man. Yet, even as I recognized my demonic urges, I ignored them and proceeded with my scissor-cutting removal of my victim’s clothing.
As I undressed myself, my lady awakened. Groggily, she implored, “Where am I? Am I…why am I tied? Are you…are you going to rape me? Please, please don’t!”
I had expected an outburst. This wasn’t the first I’d heard. Some were louder with more protests. Some were quiet and resigned to their fate. This woman’s rebellious remonstrations seemed to be coming as a matter-of-fact submission. Her surrender was tempered with a mixture of begging blended with intelligent argument.
“Please Sir, just don’t kill me,” she pleaded. “I have daughters whose sole support comes from me!”
Hmm…daughters? “I may allow you to live,” I said as a gesture of adding hope. Perhaps I meant it; perhaps I didn’t. “We will have to see how well you and I get along this morning.”
I now heard the unexpected. “My dear, Sir,” the woman said in an almost seductive voice. “I’m sure we will get along just fine.”
“We will see,” my raspy rapacious voice said.
My heavy, oversized, nickel-plated scissors still lay within my hand. I took one of the cold edges of a rounded end and tickled the tip of an exposed clit. Uncontrollably, the woman recoiled in fear. I smiled wickedly. My cock grew in both length and girth. I rammed a rounded scissor end deep into my woman’s vaginal hole. This feminine tunnel closed around the unwelcomed steel, yet a trickle of moisture fell on one of my fingers.
For several minutes, my scissors played within this female’s vagina, at times probing deep, often jabbing viciously, and generally playing the role of a violent man’s cock. Frequently, I would withdraw my weapon and I would suck the liquefied moisture from it as if suckling candy from a sugary stick. My lips licked any of the delightful fluids off.
When the time came, I took one of the sharpened scissor tips and touched it to my lady’s urethral opening. Heavy breathing indicated the presence of fear, yet no words of protest were spoken. As often happened, my sharpened tip penetrated deeper into this opening which was not accustomed to the invasion of foreign objects. As I withdrew the iniquitous incisor, it dripped two or three drops of blood onto feminine flesh.
Inspired by a sudden cannibalistic lust, an evil urge led me to capture the offended clit tip within my lips. I suckled the blood from the moisturized clit and sucked the delicious meaty flesh. My tongue darted out and licked this woman’s throbbing vaginal protrusion with enthusiastic fervor. Muted whimpers reached my ears.
While wondering if any tongue had dare descend into my lady’s vagina, I made the decision that mine might be the first. I cupped my oral intruder and rammed it into her sweltering depths. More moisture flowed than I expected, so I decided that this woman’s prophetic statement about us ‘getting along just fine’ might indeed be true. Tasty wetness assaulted me as I tongue-fucked every inch of her scorching vaginal void. Whimpers increased in tempo and sound.
Abruptly, I mounted the spread-eagled woman’s body. I traded my tongue for my horny, hot cock. Considering that my cockshaft was quite a bit longer than my tongue, I was able to jam my cocktip farther into her vaginal tunnel. Consequently, my ramming penile shaft was performing its fornication duties with lustful ease. With unfettered carnal instincts, I force-fucked the lady lying under me. The rusting springs beneath the mattress squealed like a schoolgirl having her panties pulled down.
Without slowing my invasive intercourse, I kissed the beautiful woman’s cheek. I sensed a slight rebellion, so I touched her throat with the sharpened tip of my scissors. Defiance disappeared and lips were turned to welcome mine in an ardent, impassioned kiss. Dozens of obsessive kissed followed; some given with duress and some given of ardor.
“Your name, Lady?” I whispered in a nearby ear.
“Sir, my name is, Ellen,” was her response. She added, “And Sir, yours is?”
“Edward,” I replied. “I’m very happy to meet you, Ellen. I’m even happier to have your feminine body to abuse!”
After a quick moment of thought, Ellen responded, “Think nothing of it, Edward. I am quite enjoying myself. In fact, I do believe that I am beginning to cum. I was determined that I would not do it, but my double-crossing body is having involuntary orgasms!”
I had no reason to disbelieve this woman’s last statement. She was buck-jumping beneath me. Her body met mine thrust for vicious thrust. Spurting feminine cum mixed with the masculine cum shooting from my ejaculating cock.
Confusion tempered my inner demons. No woman had ever acquiesced to my rapacious maulings with so few protests. Angered, I repeatedly rammed my cockshaft as deep as I could into the nemesis lying beneath me. My scissor blade sliced a breast which was melded to my chest. My cock proved its potent virility by discharging volleys of cum into a supposedly unwelcoming womb.
Yet, my brutal rape was not preventing the multiple orgasms the Lady Ellen was having. Involuntary they may be, but this woman soaked my pubic regions with the greatest amount of feminine cum I had ever had touch me.
Spurred on by an unknown competitive force, I fucked Ellen and filled her vagina with cum. The same force demanded that Ellen fuck me and spurt my bed with her sinful juices.
I was damned, this I knew. Was Ellen? She was an innocent victim of rape. I was a monster who raped the innocent!
“Edward, that was nice.” Ellen brazenly admitted.
Disgusted, I fled the bed. I abandoned the room, headed down the dark hallway, and disappeared into the thick fog outside. As I ran, I recalled my comment to the woman, “I may allow you to live”, yet I still had my prey in its web. I may yet do the evil life-ending deed![Part two] Rescue?
Hours passed. Ellen lay in the cum-soaked bed and wondered about her fate. Her rapist had left her, but would he return. As hard as she tried, she could not loosen the ropes still holding her captive. At least the lamp was left on, so she was not in complete darkness.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was pushed open. The doorway was filled with a large, well-made, smooth-faced man of about fifty. “Oh my heavens, it’s happened again!” he declared.
Rushing to the wounded female’s side, he sat on the bed and examined the wound on her breast. “Ma’am, please don’t be frightened, I am a doctor.”
“Oh thank god, I am rescued!” Ellen happily announced. “Doctor, will you please loosen my restraints? And, may I ask your name?”
“I’m Henry,” the doctor answered, while removing the ropes. “Please lie here until I get my bag and something to clean you with. You also need something to wear. You seemed to be my late wife’s size.”
Ellen could have fled. The door was open. But, could she find here was down the dark hallway? Would the outer door be unlocked? Where was the younger man who had assaulted her?
Henry returned. The doctor proceeded to bathe and cleanse Ellen’s wounds. “Thankfully, your breast has only a superficial injury. You may have a scar on your quite lovely mammary flesh. Your wrists and ankle abrasions are minor.”
Ellen could not believe she was doing so, but she allowed the gentle physician to bathe her most intimate vaginal parts. She knew that there was a possibility he would recognize not only her violator’s masculine cum, but perhaps he would identify the abundance of feminine cum which had come from her own body.
The doctor’s tender touch unexpectedly brought out wicked, tingly, electric shocks from within Ellen’s vagina. It had been several hours since she had been forced to cum. Surely she wasn’t depraved so much that she wanted to cum again!
“I’m very sorry Ma’am,” the doctor sadly announced. “But, I am unable to retrieve the seeds which have been implanted within your womb. If you are near your ‘fertile’ time, then you may become pregnant. Oh lord; there are so many terrible consequences of rape!”
The doctor’s words were spoken with such kindheartedness and sympathy that Ellen cried. Her heart reached out to him in loneliness and fear, “Henry, I ‘am’ in the middle of my ‘fertile’ time! I would not want to bring a rapist’s child into this world! What can I do?”
Henry had no answer. The healer in his heart made him silently weep.
“Oh Henry, I know what to do!” Ellen exclaimed. “If…if you were to implant your own seeds into my womb, then wouldn’t there be at least a fifty percent chance that I would be impregnated by a gentle, caring man?”
Henry was taken aback. He stammered, “You mean…Ellen, haven’t you been violated enough! You make an excellent argument…but are you serious about wanting my seeds?”
Ellen’s head nodded in an affirmative gesture. There was no other way. This woman suddenly felt the arms of the large, well-made man of fifty years in age lifting her from the cum-stained bed. Surprisingly strong, Henry gently cradled his wounded patient against his rapidly beating chest. He exited the rape-room, climbed a series of ascending stairways, and then gently laid his armful of beautiful nude woman on his soft, four-poster bed.
With little ado, Henry disrobed. The masculine nakedness of this powerful man stood in stark contrast to the fragile frailty of the violated female lying on his clean sheets. Gently, he lay beside Ellen and took her into his arms. While cradling her soft body, he searched for and found her lips. He kissed them. He kissed them again and then become conscious of the fact that they were kissing him back.
Neither Henry nor Ellen had ever felt the loving bond which now drew their lips and bodies together. Mouths and lips became explorers finding amorous flesh. The man found nipples; he found mammary magnificence; and he found damaged, yet delectable clitoral and vaginal obsessions. The woman discovered the rigid root of a man. Though she knew it to be shamefully immoral, she massaged this sinful stem; she took its head and shaft into her mouth; and she suckled the extraordinarily thick and long penile appendage.
Copulation came swiftly. Henry’s aching cock kissed the fluttering folds of Ellen’s inner vaginal wings. He slipped his cockshaft in and thrust it deep. Ellen welcomed this superior specimen of manhood into her body. She hoped its seeds’ strength and virility would overwhelm those which were implanted earlier.
This fornication dance became an exercise in mutual pleasure. Henry prayed that healing would occur as he repeatedly rammed his cock into and out of this exceptional woman’s vagina. Accepting Henry’s cockshaft as a precious gift, Ellen gave in and allowed herself to love it with all her heart, body, and soul.
And then it happened. Seeds were sown in a fertile womb. Orgasms took both Henry and Ellen’s breath away. Each retreated into a euphoric world where mutual love and sexual ecstasy reigned supreme. Noonday sunshine now burned the fog away. Evil and iniquity were vanquished. If a child was conceived from this day’s events, then it would be a child conceived in this bed; this comfy, cozy, cum-stained bed![Part three] Good Versus Evil
Ellen awakened alone. She wondered about Henry’s whereabouts. Rain had returned at some time during her peaceful slumber. The street below was shimmering with the dim leftovers of misty moisture. Ellen shivered as she realized that with the retreating rain, the fog of this morning had returned.
A robe lay at the foot of the bed, so in spite of her nudity, Ellen climbed out of her cozy cocoon and slipped the flimsy garment on. In search of her lover, the distinguished doctor, the woman made a cursory search of the top two floors of his house. At the top of the first floor stairway, she heard arguing voices.
Curiosity led Ellen down the stairway. The voices were coming from what she presumed was the kitchen. In barefooted feet, she silently walked towards the voices and eventually found herself standing in an open doorway to what was indeed the kitchen. Puzzled, she saw only one man speaking. It was her Henry, yet as unbelievable as it was, he was having a heated argument with himself! Ellen unintentionally caught her breath.
Red-eyed from stress, Henry spun toward the prying woman. Still carrying on a violent quarrel with himself, the doctor coldly opened a nearby cabinet and removed a small bottle which held a homemade potion. Against his better nature, he drank from it. His body began to convulse.
Ellen looked on in disbelief as her Henry; the large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty began changing form. His body contorted, it twisted, and it was transformed into the smaller, younger, cruel, remorseless, evil man she knew as Edward. Frozen in horror, Ellen screamed.
I was not so easily dismissed. I had heard screams before. I grabbed up a foot-long kitchen knife, ran to grab Ellen, and held my weapon at her throat. Pulling her towards the sturdy table occupying the center of the room, I cut and ripped the flimsy robed garment from her beautiful body.
“Bend over the table,” I sternly commanded. “Damnit whore, bend over so I can get my cock up your ass!”
Ellen screamed again. She knew from earlier experience that protests were futile and that this man’s lustful nature was sated only by rape. Edward must have used some kind of lard or grease as a lubricant, yet it hurt her nevertheless as the entire shaft of his cock was rammed up inside her asshole. The slippery penile pike stabbed into her again and again. Shrieks of unbearable pain pealed out from between Ellen’s lips as she was violently ass-fucked.
Oh what joy rape was! Cunt-rape, ass-rape, mouth-rape, it was all so nice! I loved the pain I gave women, I loved the tears, and I loved the evil brutality of forcible sex. I loved the forbidden depravity of screwing this woman so much that I began cumming before my torturing had even begun.
Ellen knew there was no recourse but to accept the savage predatory mauling she was forcibly enduring. Yet, perhaps her Henry was not buried so deep within this monstrous creature that he could not fight his way out.
“Henry, Henry, my gentle lover, please come back to me!” Ellen begged over and over again. She added imploringly, “Please Henry, don’t spill your seed into my ass! Please, my love, turn me over and spill it into my cunt!”
What the hell! No Henry, I’m having too much fun, I pleaded. Yet, even as my demon seeds began shooting, I reluctantly withdrew my cock from within the ass of the whorish woman I was fucking. Against my will, I flipped her around on the table and entered her cunt with my elongated, cum-spurting penile appendage.
Ellen was elated as the transformation began reversing itself. Again convulsions and contortions transformed the body of a man. The face before her eyes was now that of her smooth-shaven Henry. The cock screwing her cunt was the engorged penis of the man she was falling in love with.
Henry knew Ellen had been injured enough by Edward, yet he was reluctant to withdraw his hammering cock from the woman’s cunt. After all, hadn’t she begged him to come back and spill his seeds into her womb?
Henry fucked Ellen for an eternity longer and then they each let go and allowed carnal delights to sooth and comfort their hearts, bodies, and souls. Lust, love, and obsession filled their lives.
Lifting Ellen again in his muscular arms, Henry carried her upstairs to his bedroom. Looking into his late wife’s closet, the man withdrew a modern, expensive suit of clothing for his love. As she dressed, he did also.
Leading Ellen by the hand, Henry led her back downstairs. He went through the center of his home and stopped at his front door. “You must go, my love,” Henry’s heartbreaking voice entreated. “My dear one, I want you to never return! Avoid this house like the plague! Never, ever even come near this neighborhood again!”
Ellen’s own shattered heart did not fully understand the tragic circumstances which sanctioned her removal from this dear man’s residence. Without argument, she stepped through the townhouse door and stood a moment on the stoop. She glanced at a brass plaque on the doorjam inscribed with the name, Dr. Henry Jekyll. Ellen then walked down the steps and stepped out into the foggy evening.
Few knew my full name, save one, and while most recoiled from me, he did not. Dr. Henry Jekyll gave me the name of Mr. Edward Hyde. His potion created me, my persona, and even my remorseless brutality. Yet, when the woman left, we argued violently. I stormed out the front door.
I’m sure the lady called Ellen was unaware of my presence as I followed her through the foggy mists. Most likely she had forgotten the words which she had said earlier in this day. Those were the ones I remember the best. I followed with my cock growing in my pants and with those words singing in my ears, “I have daughters…”
Dr Henry Jekyll / Mr Edward Hyde
Dr Jekyll, a “large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty”, occasionally feels he is battling between the good and evil within himself, thus leading to the struggle between his dual personalities of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He has spent a great part of his life trying to repress evil urges that were not fitting for a man of his stature. He creates a potion in an attempt to mask this hidden evil within his personality. However in doing so Jekyll is transformed into the smaller, younger, cruel, remorseless, evil Edward Hyde. Dr Jekyll has many friends and has a friendly personality, but as Mr Hyde, he becomes mysterious and violent. As time goes by, Mr Hyde grows in power. After taking the potion repetitively, he no longer relies upon it to unleash his inner demon i.e. his alter ego. Eventually, Mr Hyde grows so strong that Dr Jekyll becomes reliant on the potion to remain he.
Stevenson never says exactly what Hyde takes pleasure in on his nightly forays, generally saying that it is something of an evil and lustful nature; thus it is in the context of the times, abhorrent to Victorian religious morality. Hyde may have been reveling in activities that were not appropriate to a man of Jekyll’s stature, such as engaging with prostitutes or burglary. However, it is Hyde’s violent activities that seem to give him the most thrills, driving him to attack and murder Sir Danvers Carew without apparent reason, making him a hunted outlaw throughout England.
Realizing he will soon be Hyde forever, Jekyll leaves behind a testament; pointing out that while Jekyll often felt like a charlatan, Hyde felt like a “genuine man” years younger and far more energetic than his more “sociable” self. He also states in his final confession that although Hyde knew people recoiled from him, he did not.
Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde is the original title of a novella written by the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson that was first published in 1886. The original pronunciation of Jekyll was “Jeekul” which was the pronunciation used in Stevenson’s native Scotland. The work is commonly known today as The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, or simply Jekyll & Hyde. It is about a London lawyer named John Gabriel Utterson who investigates strange occurrences between his old friend, Dr Henry Jekyll,  and the misanthropicEdward Hyde.
The work is commonly associated with the rare mental condition often spuriously called “split personality”, where within the same body there exists more than one distinct personality. In this case, there are two personalities within Dr Jekyll, one apparently good and the other evil; completely opposite levels of morality. The novella’s impact is such that it has become a part of the language, with the very phrase “Jekyll and Hyde” coming to mean a person who is vastly different in moral character from one situation to the next.