Story Excerpt

The Rape Game, by Jezebel Rose

When I got to the island, they asked me what I wanted to do, and I told them: “Well… I’ve always wanted to rape somebody.”

***

Breathing hard. She’s running naked up ahead of me, looking back over her shoulder, already in tears because she knows I’m faster than she is and that I will eventually catch up to her.

I shout, almost mockingly, “If you get away, I’ll pay for your transport off the island!” And I hear her voice cry out, sick with fear because she knows this will never happen.

She rounds a corner, but I snag her by the wrist and hear her feet slipping, faltering, and missing a stride. I’m on her, wrapping my arms around her neck. Clutching her in a vice, and she wails as she goes down, and then her lungs perforate when she hits the floor, and I hear an achy sound escape her chest as the impact knocks the wind out of her.

Her fingers desperately go for my nose, against my face, and she tries slapping me while I pull open her thighs and wrench my belt down, my cock springing free. She then screams as I drag her closer, her body feeling light with all the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I drop her back against the concrete. She squirms and looks around for a rock, a stick, anything, but there’s nothing in the maze they put us in, just dusty floors. I can smell her; she’s ovulating.

Her pussy is creamy and wet, sticky between her legs, and my cock is already rock hard. I get her closer, and she slaps at my stomach and tries to grab my cock to stop it from going in, but I snatch her wrists and force them up above her head, and she shakes from left to right like a snake as I line-up the tip with her pussy. I feel the heat of it washing over me, pulling me closer, the slight slickness of a single bead of her feminine release trickling over the slit of my jap’s eye. Then I fall onto her. I go all the way in. My balls hit the spot between her legs while the rest of my shaft stretches her wide. Infinite wetness. Heat all along my cock. Pussy better than any I’ve ever felt. It must be the fear, pumping all that blood into her legs.

Her eyes fly open, and she gasps, saliva strung between her teeth. She’s in shock, I realize. Then I see her eyes dilate as her gooey, hot-wet pussy clamps up around me because her body’s in season and wants it even if she doesn’t, and I whisper for the first time tonight and let her hear my commitment to her rape, bleeding through in the sound of my voice: “I’ve got you now, you fucking bitch.”

She gets me excited with another scream, this time of denial, and I lean back and start fucking her to get myself going. Dragging her by the thighs back against my lap, grinding her pussy up and down my cock, sliding her around and along it. Each time I go deep inside her, her eyes roll and dilate just a little further. She goes from trying to scratch me to spreading her knees further, making guttural, animalistic noises inside her throat.

She’s been on Slave Island since the day she was born. The only thing she knows is being captured and fucked. Her pussy starts juicing my cock like it was designed to, and I feel her rhythm starting-up as she starts rocking back against me. Even though I’m raping her, and she’s still kicking at me with the heels of her feet, she can’t deny the pleasure. She goes through stages of loving and hating it.

I watch her expressions change from hatred to desire as she spreads herself further by opening herself up to me below the knees, then tries hard to close her legs entirely. This only makes her pussy tighter. I shred her labia when she moves around too much, and I can feel her hot, wet blood trickling down my inside thigh from the cusp of my ballsack, and this just gets me off further. I reach over and plant my palm on her neck.

They told me I was allowed to choke her as long as I didn’t kill her. So, I place pressure around her larynx but avoid her trachea. This makes her stare up at me in stunned silence, and she cradles her left calf and keeps herself spread while I fuck her while simultaneously gripping my wrist to try and loosen my grip. I don’t loosen my grip. Instead, I focus on fucking her harder because now my own pleasure’s rushing over me each time I fuck her deep. That’s right, you fucking bitch; your wet twat belongs to me now. I’m going to fuck you like this all night long until they come and get me and tell me to stop, to have mercy. That you can’t handle anymore, that I’ll break their product, and then you’ll be useful to no one.

She lets out strangled moans beneath me, her airways dry and crisp, and she’s exhaling fluid from her nostrils. There’s blood entering the corners of her eyes in the form of veiny textures, crawling across the whites from her tear ducts to her pupils. She lets out a harsh rasp, and I realize I’m strangling too hard, so I let her go and pin her brow instead, and her head hits the floor. When her head hits the floor, she spits through her teeth in surprise, and some of it dribbles down her chin. I look down, and her entire body is flushed red, with her tits blushing and her stomach rippling with abdominal muscles, and her thighs bucking at the air as she pushes her sex hard back against me, taking me up her pussy, encouraging me to have her harder.

Please purchase this story and support me as an author! Thank you! ~ Jezebel Rose

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