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Granted he’s behind me and wearing a mask, but the intensity of his stare pierces through my back like a burning laser as he hovers over me. Fuck, I need to do something before he takes out his knife again. Next time, it might not be a threat. Trembling uncontrollably, I plant my hands in the mud to push myself up. Before I can straighten my arms they give out from under me, and I collapse back into the wet earth. A furious groan escapes me, as I lay here motionless. My limbs are jello, sapped of all strength. Fuck, I’m frustrated and angry at myself for feeling so weak.
“Now, Bambi,” the man growls, jerking my head back roughly with a fistful of my hair.
My scalp is on fire, and if he pulls any harder, strands will be ripped out. I clench my eyes shut wishing for this nightmare to end, but a silly wish isn’t going to save me. Only I can save myself from my self inflicted fate. I gulp down the saliva pooling under my tongue, force my chest up and out of the mud, steadying myself on all fours. Leaning back into his pull, I'm able to get on my wobbly knees.
Ghost Face releases his grip from my hair once I'm steady. A soft whimper breaks from my lips at the instant relief. The pounding rain has made the ground beneath me nothing but a muddy soup. I wish it was one of those cartoons from when I was a kid and I was actually in quicksand. I would love for the earth to swallow me up right now.
Without moving my head, I scan my surroundings and spot a large broken branch lying a few inches in front of me. If I move fast enough, maybe I can whack him in the head with it. It wouldn’t have to be too hard, just hard enough to distract him so I can make a break for it.
My captor must know what I'm thinking because his next words come out with a sharp bite. “Don’t move. I’ve allowed you to try and get away, I’m done with that now. I’m in charge, do you hear me? And if you move, it will make me very angry. You don’t want to make me angry, do you?”
I don’t know if he’s expecting an answer from me but I whimper a response anyways. “I won’t move. I promise.”
The words barely leave my mouth when the crotch of the masked man’s black denim pants is inches from my face. A large hand thunks me on the head, as if he’s patting me like a pet owner rewarding his dog for its obedience. The thought forces a shiver to course through my being, because all I want to do is fight back.
“Open wide bitch,” he grunts, unzipping his pants enough to release his cock. It’s inches from poking me in the eye. It’s straight as an arrow with a reddish purple head. The vein that runs along the underside of it is slightly throbbing with his perverted deviance.
Yeah, there’s no way I’m putting that thing in my mouth. It’s massive in length and girth. I’ll end up choking on it. Hmm, maybe I should do it. Then I can throw up on him when it hits the back of my throat. Maybe that will distract him and I can book it home. Ugh, but I rather not put his cock in my mouth at all. Instead, I draw my lips in, biting down so forcefully that my jaw aches from the pressure. Noticing my defiance, he grabs my cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, lifting my face so I'm looking right into the black mesh of the mask. There’s nothing there. It’s as if this man is soulless, oppressed by darkness, because I can’t see even the slightest hint of a man. Only a monster.
Ghost Face tightens his grasp, puckering my lips together like a fish, “You will obey me.” The pressure is pushing the insides of my mouth against my teeth. If he adds any more pressure to this vise grip, my teeth will cut into my skin.
He holds my gaze for a few, terrifying moments before he releases his hold. When my mouth doesn’t instantly open, the hand that has been crushing my cheeks rears back. There’s no time to think as I stare at it up in the air before a loud ringing fills my skull. He open-palm slaps me. Hard. My head jerks to the side, my wet hair following suit and whipping me across my face as well. While my cheek throbs with the sharp sting, I’m frozen in shock. I keep my face turned from him, while I try to process my current situation.Son of a bitch.
That wasn’t necessary!
I hate showing such weakness, but I can’t stop the tears from flowing. That fucking hurt. Maybe he won't notice the evidence of my crying while the rain is falling around us. At least cold drops slightly alleviate the fiery sting of his slap.
“Bambi,” he demands of me. I squeeze my eyes close.Nonononononono.“Look. At. Me!” he roars.
Not wanting to get hit again, I slowly comply and turn to meet his gaze. Well, fuck if I know if I’m meeting his gaze or not. The black, dense mesh covering them makes it impossible to see his eyes.
Once he knows he has my full attention again, he repeats, “Open wide.”
I can’t see but I swear he’s smiling behind that mask. A grin so evil it rivals the devil’s. When I don’t open fast enough for him, he slaps me again, but this time with the tip of his mushroom head against my pressed lips. This doesn’t hurt, but is more of a warning and a small mercy, because I know he could do so much worse. Doing as I’m told, I hesitantly open my mouth. I’m slow in my movements and a nervous thrill races down my spine. My lips are barely parted, but Ghost Face manages to ram his entire length into my mouth. He grabs a fistful of my hair in each hand and uses it like a handlebar to slam deeper into the back of my throat, causing me to gag. My eyes water as I look up at him and my hands instinctively go to his jean clad thighs. I push against him but it’s no use. His grip is firm as he holds himself within my esophagus, stealing my breath. He could have given me a warning before fully making me deepthroat his massive size. If his cock goes any further it will be halfway to my stomach.
“Don't sit there like a dead fish. Use your fucking tongue, whore,” he growls. I have no choice but to obey.
My head swims from the prolonged lack of oxygen, but I attempt to follow his commands by meekly swiping my tongue back and forth over his shaft. The spots in my vision gather and my grip on his thighs loosen. As if he can tell that I’m on the brink of passing out, he gives me slack to allow me to suck down gulps of air. Not wanting that again, I sloppily lick all around his shaft. I run my tongue from his base stopping at the tip. Deciding I’m not going to be a good little girl, I sink my teeth down into it.
He doesn’t flinch. Granted, I didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood but it was hard enough to hurt. His only response? Chuckling. The sick fuck is chuckling.
“Nice try, Bambi, but your little love bite only makes me want you to do it again, but harder,” he says, thrusting back into me, my nose almost touching the trimmed, dark pubic hair above his shaft. When I begin choking again, he pulls out, giving me a quick second to breathe before forcing his cock back in and pounding me relentlessly.
I need this to end. I can’t be outside, giving a stranger a BJ. If he keeps this up, I’ll probably die from penile asphyxiation. Unable to do much with how forcefully he is using my mouth, I find the pulsing vein from earlier on the underside of his shaft and swirl my tongue around it. The masked man’s dick gets even harder from this and I almost regret the action, however, I’m hoping this will make him come soon. Knowing this is probably my only option, I quicken my ministrations.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. I’m mesmerized by his bobbing Adam’s apple which is slightly peeking from under his mask. Once he recovers, I return my focus to the situation at hand. “Mmmhmm, tell me, is fucking your throat as good as fucking your pussy?” he growls.
My eyes widen at the insinuation of taking my cunt. If this fucker wants me to respond, he’s got another think coming. The man swipes a finger through the saliva dripping down my chin and says, “I’m going to fill that filthy mouth of yours full of cum, and you better swallow it without spilling a single drop.”
You better swallowpierces through the heavy sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I am not a swallower. The few occasions Kevin guilt tripped me into swallowing his spunk ended terribly wrong. As soon as his sour thick substance would hit my tongue, I’d throw up all over him. Every single time. After the first incident, you would have thought he would’ve learned his lesson but he was, once again, only thinking of himself.
But this… this seems different.
Ghost Face’s movements slow, bringing me back to reality. I think he’s about to pull out and save me the treachery of tasting his jizz, but I’m not that lucky. Instead, he drops the makeshift handlebars he made of my hair, grabs me by the back of the head and slams my face into his coarse pubes. I struggle and gag. I can’t breathe. But if the man cares, he doesn’t show it. No, as he uses my mouth for his pleasure, a dominating power emanates from him. The only scent that infiltrates my nostrils in this position is the mixture of his natural body odor and the fresh after shave scent from before.
Without further warning, he shoots streams of hot cum onto my tongue, and I gulp all the salty fluid down, not wanting to find out what he'll do if any spills. His thick baby batter trickles down my throat slowly and I swear I can tell the moment it seeps into my stomach. Surprisingly, I don’t retch, which causes an odd sense of accomplishment to wash over me.
Why is my gag reflex choosing now of all times to cooperate? Especially with a crazed man wearing a fucking mask. With two fingers under my chin, he tilts my head back for me to gaze up at him while his cock rests on my tongue. The man peers down at me daring me to slip up. When he’s good and satisfied, he pulls out of my mouth, leaving me feeling dirty and degraded.
