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“Let me go or I’ll scream,” I try to threaten him, but he just laughs.
“Scream away. These are five-inch-thick stone walls. You think anyone will hear you?”
That’s when I realize that I’m in serious trouble. Patrizio intends to do something to me. Something he expects will cause screaming.
“Patrizio please,” I beg, as I start to cry, “Pleaselet me go.”
He reaches for my cleavage, pulling my dress apart and burying his head between my breasts. He begins to bite my breasts and then suckle the same spot as if to soothe the pain away. At the same time, he’s squeezing the undersides of my boobs, and squishing them together, the better to bite the soft flesh.
There’s no blood, but there are definitely teeth marks, all over my bosom. He pinches my left nipple hard, and I gasp in pain. That seems to please him an inordinate amount. I want to scream for Romano – my Romeo – to come save me please. Save me from this hell.
His knee is spreading my thighs, digging in, and then his hands are on me, grasping my panties and pushing them to the side.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” I’m saying the word like a litany, not even aware of what I’m doing.
I want to struggle but I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me if I do. He sticks his hand inside of me, moving it around as if searching for something. “Mmmh, dry as a virgin. I doubt you are one. You have the look of a hungry cockslut in your eyes. I’ve seen you eyeing other men, performing for them, moving your body in slutty ways so they pay attention to you. Might as well be a stripper.”
I shake my head over and over, protesting his actions more than his words. I can’t help trying to squirm away from his hand, which is proving to be rather painful in its pokings and proddings, but he puts his other hand on my thigh, tightening his hold so that he’s cutting off my blood supply and continues his forays.
I start whimpering, crying, and pleading but it does no good. He’s not interested.
He finds my clit… and pinches it painfully. I jerk off the bed with a cry and he laughs. “That’s still working, is it? It’s a wonder with all the things you must have shoved in there.” He looks around as if searching for something to shove inside of me and my panic completely overwhelms me.
“W-w-why are y-you s-s-saying all th-those a-a-a-awful things to me?”
He laughs in my face and then his mouth twists malevolently, “You think I don’t know what you get up to in the dark? All the sick practices you indulge in? Those clubs you visit?” he nudges me with his knee hard, hurting my thigh. I just know I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow.
He reaches for his fly and extracts his short yet extremely wide dick. I whimper in distress and alarm.
I’m not ready for this, God please, I’m not ready.
He bends down and runs his dick up my stomach, pushing my dress out of the way so that it bunches just below my breasts. “Break you in two if I could, but gotta have you tested first. God knows what kind of diseases are nestling in your pussy right now. Disgusting whore.” He pinches my thigh, picks up my leg and starts rubbing his crotch against it, while grunting and groaning.
It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. I might never recover from this.
His movements become faster and more erratic and I’m teetering between relief that he doesn’t mean to penetrate me and disgust for what he’s doing, when he suddenly stops.
He drops my leg and crawls up my body so his dick is right up against my mouth. “Open,” he commands.
Reluctantly, I open my mouth and he stuffs his dick in there, choking me with uncaring abandon as he fucks himself to completion. His come pours down my throat and I gag, feeling my stomach protest, wanting to send it all back up my throat. He moves away only to clamp his hand over my mouth. “Swallow!” he growls.
Still gagging and heaving I force his cum to stay down. He gets off me and zips himself up before looking down at me with disgust. “Clean yourself up, whore. And then come back to the party. My guests expect to see you there.”
He leaves the room, thankfully, and I sit up, my heart thrumming with disbelief. This is like a bad dream. I feel like the girls in those human trafficking movies and I have difficulty reconciling what has just happened to me.
I crawl off the bed, letting my dress fall to the floor along with my panties and stagger to the shower. I stand there, letting the water pound at me, unable to get warm even as the water is scalding.
I’ve been violated.
I can barely bring myself to believe that such a thing happened not five minutes ago. To me. It’s as if I watched it happen to someone else - some poor girl with no family, no money, and no hope.
Notme.
Surely notme.
Things like that do not happen to people like me.
Yet it has.
