[Fucking hell, these were supposed to be 3 or paragraphs long but I keep yapping when I'm horny]
I want to shove down a handful of pills down your throat, forcing it down you while you struggle, viciously fighting against your fate. Even as you fight, I’d grope your tits, feeling you up. Your fear wouldn’t matter, even then. Only my cock would.
I’d tie you to your bed face down, and slowly, gently pour some oil across your body, rubbing it in with smooth strokes, stripping us both in the process. I’d trace my fingers across your unconscious body, the pills keeping you safe and happy in the warm depths of darkness. With a thumb, I’d push into your ass, feeling you pucker around me slightly. I’d wonder how much you’ve used it.
The sight of your oiled up ass, gleaming in the dim light would make me stiff. Ready for you. I’d play with you a bit, rubbing my shaft between your slick, shiny ass cheeks, pumping against you while I moan loudly into your sleeping ears. And then I’d slip in. There’d be no resistance, no fighting, nothing. Just my hard, rapey cock plunging deep inside your tight, warm asshole. I’d start gently, my balls slapping against you harder and harder with each thrust, sweat and slick spread with each hard thrust into you.
You still wouldn’t wake up. I’d force your face into your mattress, a strong, veiny hand pushing your little head into air deprivation. With a gasp, you’d be pulled from that safe place. You’d feel sick at first, almost wishing you were dead from the nausea. And then you’d feel my cock splitting your asshole. You’d try to scream. I’d push your head back into the mattress. The sounds of your muffled screams would only make me fuck you harder.
And even as I raped you, I’d still talk to you as if nothing’s wrong. I’d tell you my name and ask for yours. I’d ask what you do for a living. I’d compliment your body, calling you pretty, in the most gentlemanly way possible, all while I violently break your body. I’d grip an ass cheek in one hand, slapping it, spanking it while I try to make conversation and raping you harder when you don’t respond. It’d be so fucking rude of you not to respond. Even if you did currently sound like a tortured, abused little animal.
Again and again, I’d ask you questions, fucking your sense of normalcy. I’d want you to remember my questions. I’d want you to recoil in fear anytime anyone introduced themselves to you. Fuck dark streets and alleyways, I’d make you fear everyone. Every sweet greeting, every kind question, you’d hate it all because of me. Because of the cock that’s tearing open your ass while you cling onto consciousness. Because of my sweet words. Because of the drugs in your system making you weak and brainless.
I’d convince you, in your fucked up state, that I’d breed you there and then. That I was using your pathetic little cunt and that I’d knock you up. You’d be too lost to know the difference. You’d scream at me, begging me not to. That you’re not ready for kids. That you hate me so much. And I’d just laugh, driving deep inside you, my lewd hands wandering your lewd little body, pinching and poking, groping you like a piece of cheap fuckmeat. And then I’d cum, biting into your neck as I do, letting my tongue flick across your skin while my cum floods your abused asshole.
God, the sounds you’d make would make my cock hard again. All those screams and crying. Nothing would make me want to breed you for real more than that.
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