Hello all, Jessica’s Choices – Red is my new story following a bit of an absence from writing anything and so far a week in it’s doing alright. https://chyoa.com/story/Jessica’s-Choices-–-Red.13226 (To my standards anyway) As yet there isn’t much in multiple choice but each chapter gives the possibility of going down any particular route which I’m happy about however I’m here, back in the feedback forum looking for comments or suggestions or anything really. If you haven’t read or heard about it, it involves Jessica Stanhead again, she features in pretty much all my stories that I’ve built a somewhat multiverse around. In Red she is a detective with the past of the other Jessica’s Choices series haunting and looking to derail her at every opportunity. My focus on this story was to make it a crime Thriller, cat and mouse story moving away from my usual non-consensual chapters and giving her more control but alas due to my previous writings I seem to be backing myself into a corner and leading down a darker path. Of course I could go down the route of Stockholm syndrome and perhaps I will but it is too soon for that. Anyway I’m droning on and on, if you have read it and don’t mind leaving some feedback that would great and trying to get a steer from this community on what you would prefer to read with the poll. Thanks in advance
Non-consensual the winner then, not really a surprise I think. I'll get back to this ASAP but just had a commission piece land and I'm looking forward to really getting into it
lol, honestly, I just recently came back, so have not really read a whole bunch. And now that my son is 3, not much time to read much...
I guess by that I mean, the blame game. Blaming the victim is where I look at the division between tasteful and not. The "Well, it was your fault for wearing a skirt", or "Well, you shouldn't have been there". Or the entire "Oh, at first she didn't want it, but once he got that monster cock into her and made her climax, then she was glad he raped her". Rape is rape. At least make sure that there isn't the blaming the victim, or that the victim was happy about it but only because she enjoyed how good his cock was. Rape fantasies are also one of the top fantasies with women, not just men. But, it is more of the fantasy of having choice taken away and just being able to focus on the act, on how it makes you feel, rather than all the guilty hangups. So it is the removal of control so you aren't guilty of causing your own problems associated with a woman having sex. I mean a simple: He shoved her on the ground, ripping off her shorts as she fell. She cried out, afraid of what he was about to do. He fished his penis out of his pants quickly, falling on her, forcing his way inside of her pussy. She screamed in pain and horror at what was happening. This man, suddenly attacking her as she jogged through the park. Stifled sobs came from her as he started thrusting. Against her own will, her body betrayed her, her pussy getting wet. (Yes, even during rape, this is normal. It does not mean "she wants it", it means her body is functioning correctly) She looked away helplessly as he grunted, thrusting over and over again, faster and faster, until he finally came inside her. He lay there for a few, the weight of his body feeling like it would crush her, before staggering up, putting his penis away, and zipping up his pants. He stumbled off as she lay there, clothes torn, the strangers cum leaking out of her abused pussy. Tears in her eyes at the sudden and unexpected violation. Is better than: He shoved her to the ground, ripping off her shorts as she fell. She cried out, afraid of what he was about to do. He fished his penis out of his pants quickly. She looked at it in horror. Part of her wanted that monster, bigger than any she had experienced, part of her afraid he would break something, rip her apart. He fell on her, forcing his way inside of her pussy. She screamed in pain and horror at what was happening. This man, suddenly attacking her as she jogged through the park. Stifled sobs came from her as he started thrusting. Against her own will, her body betrayed her, her pussy getting wet. Then, it started to feel good. She looked away helplessly as he grunted, thrusting over and over again. The good feeling increased. The size of him, the way he went in, so deep, brought tingles to her. She found herself starting to enjoy it, starting to move in rhythm with him. Soon, sense fled her. She wanted this giant cock inside her. It felt so good. She didn't want it to leave. They moved together, her pushing towards him, him pushing deep inside her, until he finally came inside her. He lay there for a few, the weight of his body feeling like it would crush her, before staggering up, putting his penis away, and zipping up his pants. He stumbled off as she lay there, clothes torn, the strangers cum leaking out of her abused pussy. She smiled, glad this had happened, wondering if she would ever meet the stranger, and his giant penis again. See, one is the reality, the way rape really is. The other glorifies it, like you can just fuck a woman into enjoyment with your giant penis, no matter if she wanted you to or not. While one is more gritty, it is still more tasteful. It doesn't glorify rape, it shows that it is a violation of someone's body, that can lead to dramatic life changing results. The other is just "if you dick them good enough, they will forgive anything". In trying to make the act consensual, all it does is add to rape culture. At least make sure it is real. Sort of like art. There are some remarkable, gritty art pieces out there that are better remaining real, in their horrible truth and cold presence, than if you try to dress them up as something other than what they are. Writing is art. Dressing up a rapist as a savior because his dick is so good doesn't make the art good, it makes it seem like someone has a strange perception that he can make a woman love him if he is just able to fuck her and make her orgasm. Sort of stalkerish and immature. I don't expect you to write non-consensual like a momma porn. Just, at least do not try to justify it, or blame the victim, or tame the woman with your god like penis. Of course, your story, your style. Just mentioning my thoughts on the subject.
I'd suggest if you get a chance to read some of my stuff then you'll see that there is nothing of the sort of her enjoying anything about what happens to her in any of the stories apart from two consensual encounters. Excerpt. Jessica heaved as the first of the horrible convicts was on her, his cock was huge, sticking up, ugly and obscene. He guided it against her open labia lips and pushed causing her to cry out in horror and despair, "No! No! Please don't!" she shouted as she felt her body spread around the fat cock-head and suddenly it popped into her vagina. "Ugh! nooo!" Jessica screamed. She began struggling fiercely once more. The foul brutish pack around her snorted and grunted as they watched the young girl's small lithe body buck and squirm in desperation and horror, as it was penetrated by a big, thick cock for the first time. The convict who's privilege it was to go first, shuffled up onto her body, as he jerked his way into her. He spread his scruffy thighs each side of her up turned buttocks, his hands gripping her tiny waist, settling himself into position ready for a deep ride. Jerking his hips the beast pushed his engorged cock deeper, she felt so good, her little cunt felt so warm and velvety, lined with tiny corrugations that teased his bare knob as he moved deeper with each flex of his buttocks. Jessica cried and gasped as she fought the vile invasion of her body with all her strength, heaving and twisting against the cruel implacable hands that gripped her arms and legs, but they were to strong for her and there were so many of them, she was powerless. The filthy, degenerate animals who held Jessica’s long slim legs, jerked on them, hitching them a bit higher and wider. She gasped as the brutal cock thrust again, penetrating deeper, six inches were already inside her, with another heave he rammed the full eight and a half into her, his bulbous cock-head joggled over her cervix.
Lol, makes me wonder if you have ever read the sword of Truth series. This could be the naughty version of the queen when she was thrown into the pit. Although her name was different. And honestly, I get more annoyed about by how all the women come to want more after a good dicking. That is the one that really makes me say "yeah, I will go read something else, thanks".
I agree, my collection of stories about Jessica so far are about her unjust life, thrown from being relatively happy to utter degradation and humiliation. Used as a toy and thought of no less than as a bucket for cock, fingers, tongue and sucking on. At no point has she enjoyed any of it however in my newest story about her she has dealt with it and following another traumatic experience she has become a user of sex slaves, her mind broken and dealing with things the only way she can (trying to regain the power of her mind through the same way she was destroyed)
lol, yeah, sort of the reason I started writing my Masochist me story. A way to explore my darker fantasies, humiliation, abuse, degradation, pain, in fantasy writing. Sadly, I got hung up on trying to do the whole backstory of who she is, how she came to be where she is, that I have stalled out... Really need to work on that again. I have some elements written in notes here or there, but have not advanced the story enough to actually put in the elements. Example (Rape play): I could feel eyes on me, lurking in the shadows. I wasn't sure if it was real or imagined. A slight fear clenched my stomach, making me want to run. This section of the park was dark, lit only by the moon. Even the moon did not provide much light. The path reflected a little, the white reflector strips catching the faint moonlight. Not enough to see by, but enough to see the path in front of me. A rustling came from beside the path, just off to the left, just off the path. My eyes strained, trying to see what it was. Darkness greeted me. I walked on, a little faster. This late at night, you never knew what lurked out in the dark. This time, I heard it. Sounds. Almost like footsteps, but quiet. Like when someone is trying to walk without being hear. It could have just been imagination. In front of me, one of the little reflector strips disappeared, there one minute, gone the next. "Shit," I whispered to myself. "They found me." A course, rough laugh came from the darkness. "Yep sweety, weall found ya." He had a southern drawl, not strong. Like someone from the south who slowly lost their accent. "You sure are a perty thing, ain't ya?" He said. The tone of his voice sent shivers up my spine. Hands grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms behind me. Three more dark spots appeared out of the park, waiting just off the path. "Looks like we goin ta have fun tonight," one of the others said. I felt my heart racing, knowing what they intended to do. A woman, alone in the dark, no one else around, unable to even see the faces of the people around her. "Please, don't do this," I said, my voice low and pitiful, my tone pleading, almost a whine. The man with the southern accent spoke again. "Oh perty lady, we are going to do so many things." With my hands pinned behind me, I couldn't do anything as one of the men grabbed my blouse, yanking to the side. I heard the fabric rip, the buttons snap. I gasped in worry. Not for the shirt. It was a cheap, button up shirt, one I picked up for a couple dollars at Walmart. I didn't regret the damage to the shirt. I regretted the loss of my clothes. The feeling of helplessness. Another of the men around me grabbed my breast, twisting the nipple. "Wow, got a real whore here. She doesn't even have a bra on." A hand reached between my legs, up under my skirt. "Or panties," he said. All around me, the men laughed. "Please, don't. I won't say anything. Just let me go," I told them, pleading. They laughed again, and my nipple twisted harder, bringing tears to my eyes from the pain. "Hey, we already paid you, why would we let you go? It was what you were paid for." They did let me go then. I growled, wondering what the fuck they were doing. Then I got serious. "Look, Mr. John," I said to the man with the slightly southern accent. I didn't ask his name. He didn't offer. So, he was just John to me, like, well, every other John. "You said you wanted to hire me for this little fantasy of yours. You didn't say the people joining you would be stupid enough to ruin the moment." I sighed. "You," I said, turning to talk to the guy who spoke. His face looked like it had been squashed in. His eyes almost lazy, half closed. "Next time, fucking keep that shit to yourself. It ruins everyone's moment. Including mine, and since I have already gotten paid, I will walk away with no regret if you cannot focus." "But, but," he stammered. Everyone else just looked at him. Eventually he murmured, "Sorry." I nodded. "Good. Now, I am the young woman walking through a dangerous park late at night. You are the thugs who sees the young woman, and decides to fuck her, whether she wants to be fucked or not. Are we clear?" They all nodded. Honestly, they could just rape me for real if they wanted to. Five guys, they could overpower me and fuck me regardless. Then again, I already got my money, and planned to act my part in their fantasy, so it wouldn't have mattered. But, they were all decent, respectable men who just wanted to experience a fantasy. So, they listened, and followed my directions when I told them what to do. "Remember, the only thing you need to worry about is if I say butterscotch cookies. That is the keyword. If I say that, you stop immediately and get away from me. Just pretend you are in a movie. Your job is to be brute savages and rape the shit out of me. Just do what feels natural. Remember, feel free to hurt me, just don't break anything or draw blood. Some light bruising is okay, but please keep it light." They fidgeted a bit about that. It was strange, seeing men more squeemish about this than a woman. I guess for them, it was sort of strange, a woman telling them to rape the shit out of her. But, that is why I make the good money, because there was few women they would be able to find that would be willing to do this. I sighed again. "My shirt is already ripped...and I only have one spare..." "Here, you can take mine," the guy who ripped mine off said. "Not like I will get in trouble without one." I nodded, accepting it. "Okay, go back to your places. And don't mess this up again." I silently added to the man who had twisted my nipple, "Good effort. I was nice. But next time, harder. Make me scream." He nodded hesitantly, not sure what to say or how to react. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I walked through the park, unable to see more than the path in front of me. The stars twinkled slightly, but the only light came from the moon, and even that left everything in darkness besides the light reflective strips along the path. I could feel eyes on me, sending a shiver down my spine. Must just be my imagination. My pace quickened anyways. My feet wanted to run, to be away from this place. I shouldn't have walked through the park on my way home. I knew it was too dark. Homeless sometimes slept here, druggies sometimes came here. The bathroom had been converted into a meth lab at one point, until the people blew it up. No, I definitely should not be here. A noise came, just off the path to my right. A rustling. Maybe some stray or something. My eyes strained, but I could not see anything. I picked up my pace a little more, my heart racing. Suddenly, the light reflectors in front of me disappeared. I felt myself bounce off something. Something solid, but not incredibly hard. Not a tree then. "Hello," I whispered tentatively to the darkness. "Is anyone there?" Darkness moved to either side of me, and suddenly my hands were being grabbed, held behind my back. A voice came from in front of me, from whomever I had ran into to. A chuckle that brought the hair up on my neck. "Just us, perty lady. Nothin else out here but us." My skin crawled at the words. "What do you want," I asked, my tone sounding a little shaken. "Oh, we just saw a nice, perty lady out walkin, and thought she might be willing to give us folk a good time." This time, his laugh was raw, cruel. A shadow came from one side, grabbing my shirt, pulling hard. The fabric dug into me before giving way, the sound of tearing, ripping. The buttons popped off, and soon the shirt lay on my shoulders, my front exposed where it had been ripped open. I vainly tried to cover my exposed breasts. Another shadow batted my hands around, grabbing my breast, my nipple, and twisting. The pain was horrible, and I heard the scream rip from my throat. The voice came from slightly above the disembodied hand. "Little whore doesn't even have a bra on." Another hand went between my legs, and I felt fingers pushed roughly into me. My eyes opened wide. "She doesn't have panties on either." There was a laugh. "Hey, little lady. Seems you are already ready for a good time. Is that why you came here?" I shook my head in denial. "Please, let me go." "But, we haven't even showed you a good time," he said, motioning to himself and the four other guys around me. "Please, just let me go. I won't say anything. I swear." They all laughed at that. "Oh, darlin, we said we wanted to show you a good time. And, you're goin to show us a good time." This time, the laugh made me think of some evil laugh, straight from a movie. I screamed again as my nipple was twisted, as if punctuating the point. I vaguely felt fingers shoving themselves in my pussy through the eye watering pain. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," I said, once my voice was able to return. "This isn't happening. It is all a bad dream." The dream shattered as I was shoved roughly into the dirt, my ass landing unprotected as my skirt was pulled up. The dark shapes could be seen now, roughly human, but features were still obscured. In the darkness, this was the best my vision could manage. A penis appeared in front of me, the man's pants unzipped, but still buckled. "Now now, perty lady," the man said. "Don't be all like that. Weall know ya want to have some fun. Otherwise, you wouldn't be walking aroun in a skert with no panties on. No bra under that perty little shirt. Just suck it like a good girl." Then, he pressed his penis against my mouth. I got out a "fuck you" before it was in my mouth, in my throat. Then, all I got out was muffled, indignant "Hm mmm mmm hmmm!" Another squatted down, pawing at my breasts like he had never seen a pair in his life. Squeezing them, pinching them, slapping them. Another hand went between my legs. "Hey, she is already wet! Little whore is enjoying this." A laugh from everyone, then a gruff, "Are you enjoying this whore? All prim and proper, but wet and willing when some real men come." I blushed red. No one could see it, but it didn't matter. I felt humiliated there, a dick in my mouth, someone abusing my breasts, and another poking my pussy. Mr. Southern suddenly stated, "Yeah, I bet she's enjoyin it. Giving me a real good blowjob here, and not even gaggin on it in her throat. She must be one of them professional cock suckers." I flushed even worse with embarrassment. It didn't take him long either until he grabbed my head, started shoving me against his cock. He didn't do it nicely either. My nose hurt with each stroke, and I felt bile rise in my throat. Retching noises started suddenly, with his forceful face fucking. He continued mercilessly pounding my face against his pelvis as his cock continued down my throat. "Yeah, yeah, like that," he said, his voice quiet. Suddenly, I felt his penis fire itself there. There was no taste, with the head slightly down my throat, none of it on my tongue. He held me tight, and I struggled to breath around the smell of his sweat, and the way his skin plugged up my nose, his dick plugged up my throat. I couldn't get a breath as he unloaded, then held me there a short time longer. Not that I stopped retching either. Finally, he pulled back. I turned my head to the side, breaking their grip, but not their ring, and threw up noisily. They all laughed at me suddenly, sitting there, throwing up the man's cum and whatever else I had eaten earlier. I felt completely mortified. As I sat there, barely able to support myself after throwing up, two of them grabbed my arms, halfway lifting me up. Once I got some of my strength back, I started trying to struggle, trying to pull my arms free, to get away. "Please, please, let me go. Letme go. Letmego!" With five men, my struggles were pointless. They pulled me over to the children's playground. The darkness making the playground equipment seem dark, foreign, like something from a post apocalyptic movie, the playground equipment colors lacking in the darkness, the swings very slightly moving. The swings. The swings. They shoved me down, on my stomach, onto the higher swing. The one for the bigger kids. Behind me, the sound of a zipper, of a belt, of pants falling. At just the right height, he was able to line up perfectly, and without warning, shoved his cock in my pussy. I screamed again at the abrupt pain, the abrupt violation. He hadn't even taken the time to make sure my pussy was ready. Then, he grabbed the swing chains, and bounced me off his pelvis.
Any thoughts on the direction Red has been taken in? I do plan on making it darker - bringing more of a horror element to it and there will be some deaths but just wondering if anyone could pass on some guidance or thoughts or indeed opinions / feedback?
Yes I have and not to give too many spoilers but she'll get her chance, I feel like I'm still trying to set the scene though??? Can't seem to get everything out I want to to have everyone feeling sorry for her
Back again trying to like-whore and comment-slut it out Is there anything from what I've been doing so far on it push you away? Is there anything that you particularly liked more of and there perhaps wasn't enough? Please let me know, likes and comments are what feed me
