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Like some ridiculously slow echo I recalled the last words, fucked to death.
What if it wasn’t him?
I stared up at this man, raking through my memory. What had Mr. Scott’s eyes looked like, were there distinctive marks, and did this man smell the same? I could not be certain. I pressed my heels to the ground and lifted my head, pushing repeatedly into the soft earth to get away, only he wasn’t letting me go anywhere. I moved an inch or two at most.
He watched me for a second or two then planted his palm on my hair, fastening me in place.
I imagined him smiling behind the balaclava.
Panting noisily, I knew I must look afraid. Whoever this was, he would get off on that. I froze as he ripped open my blouse sending buttons spinning.
What if this were not him? I knew now that I had limits. I had things I couldn’t go past. Getting raped and killed was on that list.
I tried to shake off the gag, and the cloth stuffed in my mouth slipped to the back of my throat. As I coughed and began to choke and retch, his hand slipped into the cup of my bra and squeezed my breast.
He stilled then quickly unstuck one side of the tape and removed the cloth, turned my head to the side until I ceased gasping, until my breathing calmed.
“Don’t fucking scream, unless you want to be punished.”
If the cloth was stuffed back in, I would panic and maybe suffocate.
Still frightened, I waited and remained quiet, because there was nothing else I could do.
Just as deliberately as he’d removed it, he stuck the tape down again, smoothing it to my skin beside my mouth with his thumb.
I stared as he raised his hands and peeled the balaclava from his head.
Mr. Scott. Thank the gods. The asshole.
“Mmm!” I glared and wanting to yell you, at him.
“You never got rid of me. If I want to fuck you, I will.”
Then he stripped my shirt to either side, yanked down my bra, exposing me, and rolled me onto my front. I couldn’t kick because of his weight, though I tried. He sat on me at knee level and pulled aside the crotch of my panties. Seconds later I heard him spit then his fingers were in me, driving deep, and he shoved them in and out.
“Wet, fucking wet, of course.” He stuck three fingers in, and I gasped and unthinkingly tried to spread my thighs. My walls squeezed, hard, onto him. “Wet. You. Need. Fucking.” The squelch at each thrust was an underline to his words.
While I was processing my embarrassing arousal, he shifted off me, and I heard the subtle rip of a zip being opened. His knees pushing my legs apart even as I squirmed as if to escape.
“Still trying?” He chuckled and planted a hand on each thigh crease, thumbing me wider. His cock rammed in, and I swear I saw stars, then blankness. Beneath the gag tape, my lips gaped as he filled me with cock.
He took me and said nothing, fucking me and pushing my legs as far apart as they could go. He pulled my rear higher. Each thrust was a shock. He paused to massage my clit, and my wetness was there, having dribbled from my pussy. His fingers slipped and slid, pushing into me alongside his cock as he rutted in shallow thrusts, then he was at my clit again.
I was moaning but couldn’t stop. My wrists were in pain from my own struggles to move with the plastic ties in the way. I needed to be where that cock could get at me, needed him balls-deep and grinding at me.
We both knew by then, I wanted this.
The slap as his cock went all the way in and his body jarred into my ass made the leaves crunch. Half the noises were mine—all moans and grunts that huffed past the gag.
The strain of a coming orgasm arrived when he paused again and plied fingers over my clit, circling, pressing, with his cock well in and stretching me. He dragged my ass higher and thumped in a small thrust then another. I arched and lost track of the dirt, the threat of bugs, and the possibility that someone might see us. I screamed within the gag and spasmed several times as brutally fucked me.
At the feel of come filling me, that awesome yes arrived, to being fucked into oblivion and gifted a man’s seed. He pulled out and his come ran from me as he turned me onto my side.
With the wrist ties cut, he stood and smiled down at me, this colossus of fuckworthiness, this dark man who dared do something that I could have him arrested for. I was breathing through my nose only, feeling dizzy and overcome.
I half sat up and reached for the tape covering my mouth. “That was rape,” I said hoarsely, as I unpeeled it, grimacing at the pull on my skin.
“And you loved it.” He toed my belly and thigh with his boot, made me flop onto my back, and I struggled to rise again, planting my hands behind me. Through the foliage, I glimpsed a darkening sky. It was almost dusk.
