Worse than he had, or worse than he was planning to?
A moan of dread vibrated from me, but other than that I held my peace.
Warily, his hand slid away from my mouth and I gulped in air.
“You have a safeword,” he reminded me.
Right. What the fuck was my safeword? I hadn’t the foggiest. If I yelled something random, he’d probably stop.
He waited while my mind flip-flopped through the mental gymnastics of looking for a word I didn’t really want right then. When I didn’t object, he tugged at the crotch of my underwear and the fabric parted like magic, leaving a big hole right where it would do him the most good.
“Box cutters are a beautiful thing—but not quite as beautiful as a woman who likes to play rough.” The head of his cock prodded at the entrance to my pussy, and I was relieved he didn’t plan to force his way into my ass out here in the middle of nowhere with no lube in sight.
He impaled me with one vicious stroke. At least, I thought he was all the way in until he pulled out a bit and pushed far deeper, making me squeal and fight.
He grabbed onto my hips and used his hold to drag me back onto his cock, waiting for me to try to scramble away before he yanked me back again, invading me over and over, groaning at my cries of distress and my flailing attempts to fight him and get away.
“Fight. Fight, you little cunt. The more you struggle the harder you make my dick.”
I tried to stop fighting, knowing I was feeding his fantasy, but I couldn’t make myself listen to reason.
There were no rules. I could fight him as hard as I wanted—try to maim him, even—but none of it made a difference. He kept using my body to masturbate with, not caring if I liked it. Probably hoping I didn’t.
Eventually, I was so tired I stopped fighting. My mind drifted, becoming fuzzy, my body reveling in the feel of complete forced submission, of being used with little to no regard for me or my feelings. He shuddered above me, his hands tightening painfully on my hips in a convulsive twitch, his cock jerking hard inside me, and so deep I expected to choke on the rush of cum. He pumped me on his shaft a few more times, getting his full use out of me, while his hot seed squeezed out around his still-hard cock. By the time he withdrew, I was exhausted, battered, feeling like I’d been fed through a rock crusher.
“Mine.” He bit my shoulder one last time then stood up. I lay where he left me, all the fight in me extinguished. Cum dribbled from my pussy.
“Fuck,” he said appreciatively. “You’re a hot mess.”
I heard something like he was fumbling in his pocket, and when I braced my hands to give myself leverage to look behind me, I saw he was holding his phone, taking pictures.
“Asshole.”
“They’re for Vandal, since he missed all the fun.” He hoisted me off the ground and threw me over his shoulder, knocking the breath out of me.
“Put me down, you bastard,” I wheezed.
He squeezed my ass with a rude hand and started to walk, but not back the way we’d come.
“Where are you taking me?”
He smacked me, his hand landing partially on my pussy which made a degradingly wet sound. It was mostly his cum, right? I didn’t like it that much.
“Shut up, cunt. Unless you’re begging for more cock, I don’t want to hear it.”
I tried to kick, but he had an arm looped around my legs, and so I only succeeded in flailing my legs around.
Eventually, like the man had a built-in compass, we reached the deserted dirt road. He made a call that was a few half-intelligible grunts rather than actual words, and about a minute later Vandal skidded up in his truck. The man was grinning, and I hated him even more than I had a few seconds before.
“Thanks,” Zero said, sounding like he was in a great mood. “Did you bring everything?”
“Of course.” He opened the tailgate and Zero put me down on it. As though they’d done this a hundred times before, they hogtied me with zip ties and pulled a black fabric bag over my head, tying it off around my neck. I opened my mouth to scream only to feel a hand against my mouth.
“If I hear one fucking peep out of you, we’re going to take turns fucking your ass right here, without any prep or lube.”
In my heart of hearts I knew it wasn’t true, but there was enough doubt in my mind to make me clamp my lips shut.
“You already fucked her,” Vandal observed. “Nice job on these.” He fingered the hole in the sodden mess of my underwear, and I made an involuntary sound of irritation. He stretched the hole in the fabric backward and ran a threatening fingertip over my anus. I shivered with revulsion and desire, hating him, hating anal, but still horny from the chase and being used.
Two sets of hands pushed me farther into the truck bed, and then the tailgate banged closed. The ride down the road rattled me, both physically and because it made me feel like cargo instead of a person. Sunlight beat down on the black of the bag over my head, and I tried to peer through the fabric even though there was nothing much to see except the truck bed.
At what I presumed was the house, they carried me in the front door and down some stairs. The familiar scent of the basement filtered through my hood, even though there was nothing to see except added darkness.
They left me down there alone, the damp chill of the sand initially nice after the hot box of the truck. The chill crept into my hands and feet first, then slowly into my bones.
How long would they leave me down here like this?
What if I suffocated?
What if my circulation got cut off, and I needed to get something amputated?
I forced myself not to panic. I could breathe. There was no reason why I’d suddenly be unable to.
I had a safeword too, right? They would still listen to my safeword. This was part of the twisted research Zero was doing for his book. It wasn’t any different than what he’d done to me before when I was researching my own book.
It felt different though. My pussy was sore and sticky. My panties were damp, and the hole in them made me feel horribly vulnerable—even more vulnerable than I’d feel if I was naked. The hole was a lewd invitation, like a glory hole in cloth.
The last time I was down here sex had been a hard limit. Now, most of the limits had disappeared.
Time twisted. Lengthened.
I dozed.
What felt like hours later, someone came down the stairs. I couldn’t tell which of them it was. He squeezed my hands and my feet, made a sound of disapproval, and cut away the zip ties. He massaged my arms first, and then my legs, helping me move them. I reached for the bag over my head, but he caught my wrists. I struggled, wanting the damn bag off, but he sat on me, buckling soft cuffs around my wrists. They didn’t cut into my skin like the zip ties had, but the click of each lock was a large stride farther from freedom.
I tried to scramble away and head toward the stairs without really knowing where they were, but he caught me and threw me down on my back, crossing my legs and forcing them up against my stomach, making me into a human pretzel. He kept me pinned with his hips, then caught my wrists, even though I tried not to let him, and held them above my head with one hand. He shoved down his pants and was pushing inside me before I could react, using the slickness of Zero’s cum as lube because my body was cold and unready.
He grunted, but I couldn’t tell by the sound who it was. His hips drove his cock into me like a piston powered by an over-revved engine. The use was hard and jarring, and his free hand yanked open the buttons on the bodice of my dress. He mauled my breasts, hurting me and making me squirm, sighing with pleasure as I bucked beneath him and snarled with anger. His pubic bone mashed against my clit and I was on the edge of coming when he spent inside me, yanking out so fast that I yowled, his cum splashing a hot trail up the front of my desecrated panties.