Inspired by a scene from Sweet Home Season 2. Usual disclaimers - not real life, just a little fantasy cooked up by my totally innocent mind.
“Not if you were the last man on earth. Not even if there was an apocalypse and you were the last person alive! Not ever.” My words bite out like bullets, intending to hurt. For a moment I see the flash of anger and yes - hurt - on his face, and feel a thrum of victory. It doesn’t matter how the world has ended, I would never sully myself with someone so beneath me. Who on earth did he think he was? Guys flocked over me, why would I ever pick him? We were trapped here in these dark tunnels, all fighting for survival, and what did he have to offer me? Could he fight the monsters? No. Was he good looking? No. Did he work? No. Honestly, what a dumbass.
Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that some monsters… are human. The look on his face changed to something twisted and dark, and that was the only warning I had before his huge hands came up and wrapped around my throat.
“You… bitch!” He hissed into my face, spit hitting me as his hands closed in. My eyes went wide in alarm, own hands coming up to grab at his muscled arm and try to pull him away, cherry red nails digging in. His grip tightened, and with a breathless, surprised noise I was lifted up off the ground by the strength of his throttling hands. My legs kicked in mid-air, my left shoe falling to the stone floor, but my other foot made contact with his knee and shin, trying to kick at him in panic. His grip tightened even more, thumbs digging into my skin, until the force of it had my mouth open and gasping desperately for air that wouldn’t come. My lungs burned, my vision beginning to swim in front of me. I looked past him desperately to the entrance of the tunnel, praying for someone to come.
“You think… you’re too good for me… huh?!” He was spitting into my face with fury, but it was all blurred in my eyes. My feet kicked again, tears welling up in my eyes and finally spilling over. My lips, cherry-red like my nails, were wide and gasping desperately, but darkness was beginning to close in at the edge of my vision.
Just when I thought I was going to die, I was tossed aside like a rag doll. My small frame hit the stone with a grunt, and then gasps of air that felt like sandpaper on my lungs. I tried to push myself up onto all fours, one hand reaching out blindly, searching for a weapon I could use.
He couldn’t do this to me. I wouldn’t let him! How fucking dare he -
A hand grabbed my ankle, dragging me backwards towards him. Through my sleek black hair falling over my face I can see an empty glass bottle ahead where someone had been drinking. I know I can use it as a weapon, if I can just get close enough. I kick out, but the grip around my ankle is tight, and I’m soon dragged back, and then that hand releases me to grab my shoulder and flip me over onto my back.
“Get off me! How dare you!” I scream at him, and then freeze. Every part of my body goes still except for my wildly-hammering heart, at the sight of the knife in his grip. It’s a shiny silver, but looks ugly in his meaty hand. I may have attitude, but humans are conditioned to be terrified of weapons. It glints in the light, a threat that has me trembling and still beneath his towering body leaning over me.
“You fucking bitch…” he hissed. There was actual drool on his mouth, what a disgusting- I cry out as the knife comes down, and then the sharp point of it is pressed into the delicate skin of my neck. I raise my chin, trying to shrink back away from the touch, but there’s nowhere for me to go. Just the size of his body is overpowering, blocking me in with his arms and legs, but that knife…
I tremble, and a whimper escapes me as the knife presses in. I feel a sharp prick of pain, and a droplet of blood rolls slowly down my neck. Beneath him, all I can do is tremble and try to shrink back. I’m terrified that he’ll do more damage with the knife, maybe hurt my face, and I know it’s ridiculous but the thought of my face being scarred makes me desperate to appease him.
“P-Please, please don’t do this!” I beg suddenly. His gaze immediately fastens on my parted lips.
“You fucking bitch,” he says again, practically spits it, “you think you’re superior to me, huh? You think because your mom’s the chief, you can look down on me?” His free hand wraps into my dark hair and I scream as he pulls me closer, the movement jostling the knife against my throat and making a thin cut. He doesn’t seem to notice, in fact all his attention seems to be fastened on my lips.
“Not if I was the last man, huh? Well look around you! Do you see anyone coming to help you?” He snarled. I flinch at the words - because he’s right. Surely someone could hear me screaming.
“P-Please, please…” I beg, not even sure what for. He fist tightens in my hair and drags me forwards until my face is mashed against the jeans covering his crotch. My hands come up to press against his thighs, to push myself away, but then the knife comes up and presses cold against my cheek.
“Suck me, bitch. Take out my cock and suck it like it’ll save your life!”
Everything in me wars against it. I’m the daughter of the chief, I’m smart, I’m beautiful, I don’t have to take this shit from any man - but the knife presses in, and fear overrides everything else. With glossy painted fingernails, I unzip him and fumble to release his cock to the air. It springs out and hits me in the nose, which makes him laugh like a lunatic above me. The musky smell of him assaults me, and I wrinkle my nose, wanting to lean back. But that sharp press against my cheek has me hesitating again.
“Fucking SUCK ME,” he snapped, using his fist in my hair to shake my head violently like a rag doll. It makes my whole body move, and he uses it to lean over me even more. His hand pulls my head forwards, until the head of his cock is resting against my plump red lips. I breathe harshly through my nostrils, glaring up at him, but at the tap of the knife, I slowly open my mouth. I wasn’t sure how I expected it to go, but there was nothing slow about it. He pushed his cock into the tight wet heat of my mouth, lips stretched tight around him, and he groaned loudly and with a laugh.
“I’ve been thinking of this,” he giggled, looking down at where his cock disappeared into my mouth. I hadn’t expected him to be so large, and as he pushes in deeper, my plump lips become thin and straining around his cock. He brushes the back of my throat, and tears well up in my eyes again as I try not to gag. I can’t even pull away, my hands against his thighs doing nothing when his fist is in my hair, pulling me strongly against him. He’s still talking above me, mumbling to himself, “Imagined you like this, your pretty lips, oh you think you’re so good, too good… stupid little bitch.”
I can’t help it, at the insult I scratch my teeth along his prick. The abrupt violence has me screaming - he tears me from him by the grip in my hair, and bodily throws me against the wall. I hit and slide down, but he’s on me before I can get a breath. Pretty soon I’m on my knees with my head pressed back against the wall, and his cock is buried in my mouth, right up to my throat.
I lurch, chest rising and falling desperately as I try to breathe through my nose. My hands ball into fists and hit his thighs, but he just inches closer still, until I’m literally caught by the concrete behind my head, and the cock down my throat. He thrusts into me, bumping my head against the wall when he hits the back of my throat. Tears spring up in my eyes once again, and my fists pound against his thighs. Then, with a twist of the hand in my hair, he angles my chin and thrusts in, until he’s seated in my throat with his heavy balls pressed against my face.
I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe…
He doesn’t care. There’s absolutely nothing gentle left about him. He still has his knife grasped in one hand as he fists it into my hair and uses the grip of both of his hands to force himself into my throat. He pulls out, me lurching and choking beneath him, and then thrusts in again, balls slamming against my face. My throat bulges with the movement, but I can’t do anything. I can’t turn my head, can’t pull backwards, can’t breathe. With the thickness of him invading my throat, all I can do is whimper and cry, drool escaping from the corners of my lips as he presses in again. The squelching, gagging noises my throat and I make as he fucks me is one of the most humiliating things. My cheeks are flushed and red with embarrassment, but it all adds to the hazy, drunk-like feeling of not getting enough air.
My lungs are burning again. He pulls out just as darkness creeps in, lets me drag in a desperate breath, and then slams his cock into the tight wetness of my throat, making me lurch and cry. Tears and drool cover my face, but it’s quickly hidden from sight as he slams his hips forwards. The rhythm doesn’t give me any chance to properly breathe, and I feel like I’m going to puke - but his thrusts are unrelenting, slamming into my throat as violently as if he were using a pussy. My head cracks back again and again against the stone wall, smearing blood there.
Then without warning, he pushes in deep until his cock head rests in the opening of my throat, making me gag and cry - and then a thick load explodes from him, pumping straight into my throat. He keeps that movement going, thrusting shallowly into my open mouth, swollen bruised lips, making me taste his ejaculate. I can’t do anything but whimper and take it, nearly swallowing around him as I try to drag in air. The movement makes him groan and press in deep again, and even with his softening cock, it blocks my airway.
“Mmf-” I try to protest, hands coming up to beat at him again. Come leaks out from the corners of my lips, and my watering eyes look up at him pleadingly.
Black eyes stare down at me, along with that wide, maniacal grin. As I tremble beneath him, desperate for breath, I realise that this is a long way from over. Darkness creeps in around me. My chest jerks up and down as I try to draw in air around his cock, but his hand is soon on my throat, crushing until I can’t drag in the slightest sliver of oxygen.
Alone in that tunnel with a monster, I pass out with his cock buried in my wet open mouth.
