Bait

And this monster is.

This monster is huge, his arm so tight around my waist that I struggle to breathe. He’s the solid wall of muscle against my back. He’s the firm hand over my open mouth.

He’s heat, and breath, and terror.

He’s my most beautiful nightmare.

And he’s real.

Tonight, he’s real.

His arms are thick and tense, hoisting me from my feet as though I weigh nothing at all.

My fingers dig into his forearms and find them unyielding. My legs grapple for grip but find nothing.

I have no breath to scream, nor strength to fight him. I thought the struggle would come naturally, but it doesn’t.

I’m paralysed.

I wonder if he can feel my drumming heart as he carries me further into the darkness. I wonder if he feels how my wired nerves spiral away with me.

I’m rigid in his grip, but I don’t struggle – my eyes wide in the pitch black, straining to find bearings where I have none. His boots crunch on gravel underfoot. We’re in the shadow of brickwork, one of those looming buildings hides us from the deserted street.

Alone.

There is numbing liberation in the way I know no one is coming for me. I feel myself falling into myself, all of my pieces contracting to protect my broken soul.

But I don’t want protecting.

I don’t need to be protected from this.

It’s everything I ever wanted and more than I ever feared, all at once.

The monster speaks.

“Don’t make a fucking sound. I’ll hurt you if you do.”

His voice is low. Deep and dark and threatening.

And I’m every bit as fucked up as I ever feared. Underneath the terror and the dread and my racing heart, I realise my clit is fluttering.

My pussy clenches, and it aches. It fucking aches for him.

My nipples are stiff against the lace of my bra. My hands are clammy and desperate as they grip at his skin.

“Understand?” he whispers.

I nod and the hand across my mouth moves with me.

I whimper into his palm as he slams my body into a doorway. Shutters rattle loud enough to make me squeak.

He drops me to my feet and pins me against the door with a heavy arm against my back, forces me against it so hard it hurts my tits, my face squashing against cold metal.

“Quiet,” he tells me and I nod again, barely able to breathe he’s holding me so tight.

I flatten my palms against the door and push back hard in the quest for even an inch of space, but he doesn’t budge.

He hitches and grinds, and I feel him.

Oh fuck, I feel him.

Bigger than the monster toy I used at home. Bigger than I ever feared. Hoped.

I whimper under my breath as he finds my wrists and raises them over my head. They’re so small in his hands. Breakable.

I’m so small. Breakable.

He pins both of my arms in position with just one of his, and the other snakes around my front and tugs my slutty bra down with my dress. My tits flatten against cold metal. My nipples are tight and tender, sparking against the chill.

He kicks my legs spread with his boots, and I sink lower, teetering precariously from his solid grip on my wrists.

Cool air hits my clammy thighs. I roll my tits against the metal door and I like it. I’m more petrified than I’ve ever been in my whole entire life, but I hear myself moan.

Thick fingers slide between skin and shutters. Thick fingers grab at my tit and squeeze until I whimper.

And I can’t help myself. I tip my head back against the ridge of his collarbone and let myself ride the craziness.

“You fucking asked for this,” he whispers, and I smile a crazy smile in the darkness.

Yes.

I asked for this.

I fucking begged for this.

Dreamed of this my whole life.

He pinches my nipple so hard it takes my breath, then tugs me back from the shutters enough to trail his fingers over my goose-pimpled skin.

I arch my back and hope he gives me more. My body begs for more.

And then I lie.

It comes so easily.

“No… please don’t…”

He grips and twists, mashing my tit flat against my ribs.

“No…” I breathe again. “Please stop…”

His breaths quicken with mine. He presses tighter against my ass.

He likes it.

He wants it like this.

Part of me comes undone – a stray part that feels alien to the rest of me.

It’s that part that whimpers as he tugs my dress up around my waist. It’s that part that’s begging him to let me go as he slides a rough hand between my legs.

I’m offering my pussy to his fingers even as the protests are tumbling from my mouth.

“No… don’t…”

I’m delirious and fucked up. Euphoric and horrified all at the same time.

My pussy aches so good at his touch, my clit a desperate little bitch.

His thumb hooks inside my thong and presses right on target.