I’ve still got most of my clothes on. You’re standing over me, i’m on my knees looking up at you. You want me to watch you be terrible to me. You want me to make eye contact. You want me to tell you what a worthless piece of meat i am and that i deserve everything you’re going to give me. You’re going to use me as a sloppy wet fuckhole for your pleasure. You don’t give a shit if i like it or not, it isn’t about me. This is all about you. What you want. What makes your dick hard.
You cradle my face in your hands, i’m teary eyed just from terror alone. You haven’t done much to me but thats about to change. The soothing touch starts to tighten until you’re compressing my neck. My vision starts to tunnel and i struggle to get away, but i can’t. I grab at your forearms and tug but i don’t have enough leverage. I lean into your legs and you let go.
I lean against you as i catch my breath. I can feel your weight shift, i know you’re coming after me. I recoil from your attempted grasp but i’m too slow. I end up leaning back and you force me down, belly up. You’re on top of me. Your right hand grabs my jaw and you slap me a few times with your left. If i wasn’t crying before i probably am now. You lean back, letting me wheeze and catch my breath. You pull a knife out of your pocket and i catch a glimpse of the metal through my teary vision, i stiffen. You draw it across my throat and involuntarily i relax.
You grab my shirt and slide the knife beneath it, i squirm but not a lot, i don’t want you to cut me. I whimper as the fabric loosens. You tear the shirt the rest of the way off and lean down over me. I feel your hands squeeze my tits and i arch my back to try to relieve the pain, it doesnt help. I don’t know where the knife is. “You’d be fighting back harder if you didn’t want this” Im conflicted on where i am about that.. I weakly grab at one of your hands, the one i’m sure doesn’t have the knife. Anything to free my chest. I want to bite you, but i don’t have a good angle and if you catch me, well, it’ll get a lot worse.
You get off me and grab my collar, heaving me up by the neck, i make some guttural noise of displeasure. You half march half drag me to the bed and throw me over, feet still on the floor. I’m still wheezing. I feel your hands grab the waste of my pants, they’re big, you probably won’t even need the knife to cut through them, you could just slide them off me without a belt. “Spread your legs” when i don’t comply fast enough you punch me in the back. SPREAD THEM. I get the message, opening my legs and crying. You force your knee against my cunt and i hate myself because i want it.
I can’t bring myself to fight you. Either i can’t catch my breath or you’ve just already overpowered me. It isn’t like that’s difficult for you. You take your knee out of my cunt. “Turn over” i scramble to comply. I prop myself up a little bit, but still cower. I don’t dare close my legs. You put the blade of the knife right over my clit. I hope the jeans aren’t worn. You pull the blade away and smack me on the thigh with it, i want to curl up but i can’t, i won’t. You do it again. I grasp your opposite side “don’t you fucking touch me” i recoil, shaking. Eventually you just want the pants gone, you grab the material around my hips and tug, they slide off, hell they could have been half way gone with all the struggling already. I feel exposed and vulnerable. My panties are wet.
“Look at what a fucking slutty mess you are” you smack my cunt and i moan, trying to close my legs. You grab my knees and force them back open. “This should be on display, it’s a shame there aren’t other people here to use you. Guess you’ll just have to settle for me.” I try to struggle backwards, to get more on the bed, not feel so layer open. You’re onto of me in a second, toying with me. You antagonize me. You want me to fight back. Pokes here, slaps there, maybe a punch to the leg. Eventually you get me worked up enough, i start trying to punch you in the chest, stomach, leg, anything i can get my fists near. This delights you, i don’t like it when you smile. You tire of my pathetic game and grab my wrists with one hand pinning them back over my shoulder, i squirm. You smack me around with your free hand.
I can feel your cock pressing against me as you lean over, your legs lock mine in place and i feel your teeth against my breast, i buck under you, i know whats coming and i don’t want it. I struggle and cry as you bite down, my cries become sobs as it takes you longer and longer to let go. I can’t even process it. You look me in the eye and spit on me. You grab the knife from the safe place you had put it before and slash the rest of my clothes off.
Comments
Post a Comment