Attack

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

Jess' phone gave a whimsical ding at the incoming message. 'Go back on up to the room,' it said.

Already? she pondered. That didn't make sense. He couldn't have checked in, in that time. Let alone gone to the room himself or...then she saw him.

There was a dark shape at her periphery as she pressed the elevator button. She pretended not to see him come away from the wall he was leaning against. He vanished at her back so she really couldn't see him. She took her phone out and stared at it, pretending not to feel him behind her.

He'd told her earlier that day, 'If you see me, you don't know me.'

They'd talked about what was going to happen, in a general sense. A fantasy for both of them. A stranger, an attack. No details, though. No sense in ruining the surprise. He said he wondered how long she'd be able to stay in character. She wondered the same. She wanted to fight, wanted to feel him force her, but she didn't know how much was too much. She doubted she could hurt him but she didn't want to get hurt, herself. He'd never let that happen but she was full of nerves and uncertainty all the same. And never so much as Right. Then.

He'd followed her into the elevator and she watched her hand tremble in the awful yellow light as she pushed the 2nd floor button. What was she supposed to do? If he really was a stranger she'd have asked him "What floor?" but she just couldn't make herself speak. She could barely hear, anyway, over the blood roaring in her ears. Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might be sick. When the elevator doors slid open again, too soon, she panicked a moment as she tried to remember which way it was to the room. Nervous as she was Jess still desperately wanted to play the part well. Distractedly roaming the halls with him on her heels would spoil the scene for sure.

She knew, if it was real, she'd never abide some stranger on her tail without at least turning to give a reproachful look. A silent but unmistakable 'Back off, weirdo.' This wasn't real, though, and he was no stranger. Irrationally, she was more afraid of him right now than she would have been of some random guy and couldn't turn to look at him. Not for a hundred dollars. That her key card went smoothly into and back out of the room lock was nothing short of miraculous. Opening the door and walking a few steps into the room felt like it happened in some slow motion daze. Jess was painfully aware of leaving the door to close slowly of its own accord behind her as she fought with herself to act naturally and not turn around.

Her purse was barely on the table when she heard his boots on the floor behind her. Before she could look, though, her head was yanked to the side by an iron grip in her hair and she was being dragged to the floor. In a flash she found herself on her knees, bent over the foot of the bed with a big body pinning her there. The door clicked softly shut. One hand stayed painfully wrapped in her hair at the top of her head and forced her to watch as a knife materialized in the other one, inches from her face. She knew then, two seconds into the encounter, she wouldn't have to try to stay in character, or gauge how much to fight. He was going to make this easy. For him.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she tried to beg. Her 'no's' and 'don'ts' and 'please's were barely intelligible and she could feel herself shaking, hard.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" he hissed in her ear. Her head swam with confusion. Notice what?

He answered the question in her eyes. "Did you think I wouldn't see you walking around like that? Dressed this way? Begging for it?" He shook her a little with each accusation and nudged her mind further and further from any planned dialog she thought she might use. She could only shake her head a millimeter each way, painfully, and whimper. All her daydreaming and preparation were useless now with the knife pointing at her right eye and the heat starting to pool between her legs.

He gave her the choice, as though there was one. The one where she's good and does as she's told and doesn't get hurt, the easy way. Or the hard way. The one she doesn't even want to think about.

"Well?" he said. She nodded her head. It wasn't enough. "Are you going to be good?!"

"Yes!" she gasped quietly. "I'll be good,"

Satisfied, he stood up and dragged her with him, never letting her hair go, so she knelt at his feet. Just watching him tug open his belt with his free hand made Jess throb between her legs. It took all her concentration to stay scared and reticent when what she wanted to do was plunge his cock down her throat.

'I guess this is where the acting comes in,' she thought. The smell of his skin made her mouth water and she barely heard him talking about how all she had to do was suck some cock and then she'd be free of him. He would go away and it would all be over.

"You've sucked cock before. I know you have. It's no big deal. I bet you love it, too. You want to suck my cock, don't you?"

She did. Desperately. But she wasn't about to tell HIM that. Either way, there it was, standing in front of her face. She pretended to hate it as she opened her mouth and inched forward. God. The taste of him was even better than the smell. She reveled in the warm velvet skin on her tongue and her pussy spasmed as he pushed his hard dick deeper into her mouth. She groaned and hoped it sounded miserable. It didn't. She sucked on him, playing the part of getting him off quickly to be done with it. It was his turn to groan, now, with approval. He used his grip in her hair to pull her onto his cock a little harder, a little faster.

"Oh yeah. You like sucking my cock, don't you?"

Jess thought it was rhetorical until he pulled her off his dick and said it again, tilting her face up to look at him.

She yanked her chin out of his hand, her pride welling up. She wouldn't spoil the game already. "No," she said.

The word was barely out of her mouth when his hand cracked against her right cheek, hard. She hadn't expected it and she came, instantly, soaking her panties. Before she could recover, though, his now raging hard-on was back in her mouth and bumping against her throat. He fucked her mouth a few more moments then pulled out and asked her, again.

"You love sucking it don't you, slut."

She said "No" again and he smacked her left cheek just as hard. She came again, just as fast, and now the wetness was dripping down her thighs.

This time he held her just a bit away from his twitching dick, knowing she wanted it.

"You like sucking my cock, DON'T you, slut?"

The desire to have it back in her mouth won out this time and Jess gave in. "Yes, I like it," she whispered.

"I'm sorry? What was that?" he mocked her as he rocked her head back and forth.

"Yes, I like sucking it!" she made herself say loudly, this time, and was rewarded with having it shoved deep back in her mouth. He fucked her face hard and she gagged several times.

"Don't you fucking stop," he said.

She needed a breath but tried to appease him. Her body fought the abuse but his ruthlessness only turned her up higher.

She was trying to concentrate on breathing and sucking and not choking when she felt him drag her hands up over her head and wrap two loops of rope around them. Both cuffs tightened at once with a yank. He continued fucking her throat with one hand behind her head and the other holding her wrists high.

As rough as the treatment was she still tried to suck and lick him, wanting him to cum in her mouth. Wanting to feel it. To taste and swallow it. So she was disappointed when he pulled her off him a final time and berated her for not being able suck him off.

"I guess we'll have to do something else, 'cause I'm not finished with you."

He pushed her back until she was flat on the floor, her bound hands over her head, and produced the hated knife again. Feigning fear of what came next Jess cowered as he stood over her. Her eyes flew open when she felt the blade at her neck but she stayed stock still. He traced it lightly, almost tickling, and asked her again if she was going to be a good girl.

"Yes!" she squeaked.

"Yes, WHAT?" he pushed.

She knew what he wanted to hear. Of course she did. She'd said it a thousand times, for his pleasure and hers. But not now. Because how could some normal, helpless, unfortunate woman possibly know precisely what this sex-crazed psycho wanted to hear? She couldn't.

"Yes, I'll be a good girl!" Ever the actress and committed to the scene.

It didn't really matter, though, because the next place she felt the blade was underneath her shirt.

"I'd quit squirming, if I were you," he warned.

Jess didn't realized she had been but she froze all the same. She squeezed her eyes shut and pasted her head to the floor while her attacker methodically sawed and sliced at her clothes. Her shirt was laid open quickly and she felt a big, warm hand stroking her flesh before going to work at her bra. She laid there, scared and seething in turns, but deep down aching to be touched in the spots where she was still covered. She tried to mask her relief with resignation as each piece of fabric was hacked away. None too soon her breasts were free and her eyes rolled back as he roughly squeezed her right one. Before she could arch her body in pleasure, though, he was back to work.

The knife sliced easily through the black yoga pants and turned them to shreds. Then he made short work of her white, innocent panties. He ripped the fabric away and she felt cool air on herself. Trying to clamp her thighs shut she realized, too late, that there was a leg planted between them. This was very different from the top half exposure and the irrational fear was back. She was suddenly shy and not being able to close her legs was making her pant. It was also making her wet. So of course he couldn't resist making it worse.

"Oh, look at that pussy," he said. "Spread your legs for me. Let me see it."

It would be so much easier if he would force her. Pry her knees apart himself. But no. He liked seeing her struggle without even touching her. He didn't want her to fight him, he wanted her to fight with herself. That's what he liked to watch. And it was a fight. She hesitated, hating to spread herself out for him like some willing whore.

"You don't want me to tell you again," he warned her darkly. "Trust me."

Jess stared hard at the wall to her side, unable to look at him. She gave a dry little sob as she slowly spread her knees wide. That part wasn't an act.

He crouched over her, reached between her legs, and pushed a thick finger into her pussy. It slid easily in to the knuckle and Jess bit back a moan. He studied her face while he pushed the finger in and out, watching her trying to stay impassive.

"I thought you didn't want this," he teased her. "Why are you so wet, then?" He brought the assaulting hand to her face so she could see his finger, damn near dripping. "That's okay, don't worry. I've got something else for you."

He was up suddenly and dragging her across the floor. The back flap of Jess' former shirt rode up and she felt the rough hotel carpet scrape along her back. It was disorienting to be dragged that way. And it hurt. She felt helpless. And it all turned her on so much she couldn't stand it. She couldn't help letting her legs fall open when he dropped them to the floor. Then he was between them and she couldn't close them now if she tried. She stole glances at his face while he wrestled his cock back out of his pants but the hard, dangerous look there had her averting her eyes. She pretended to close them in horror when she felt the hot head of his cock slide up and down her dripping slit.

"Oh yea. So wet for me. You want this so bad, don't you."

She shook her head but he didn't wait for more than that. He lined up the head, pushed his hips down on her and buried himself to the hilt. She couldn't silence the cry this time. He was finally fucking her. His clothes, none of which he'd removed, rubbed harshly against her skin as he stabbed his cock deep and hard, over and over. The pleasure stabbed at her too, so sharp it almost hurt. All she could do, pinned under him, her wrists bound, her eyes closed and her mouth open in a continuous, silent scream, was take it.

Lost in the feeling, Jess forgot herself and hooked her legs around his pumping body. As she pulled herself harder against him he called her on it. He wasn't lost in anything. He mocked her moment of weakness.

"Aw, you want to wrap your legs around me?" he teased.

Jess immediately let them fall again but the taunt made her even hotter than the position had and she whimpered now with every brutal thrust.

"You don't have to hold back, slut," he coaxed her as he kept fucking. Fucking. "I know you love it."

She shook her head again, unsure of what she even meant. She would hold back? She wasn't holding back? She didn't know. She only knew that everything from her navel down was winding tighter and tighter and there were flashes of color behind her eyelids.

"Go on you slut," he said. "Cum." It sounded like a threat.

Jess was almost scared again, for a second, thinking she wasn't quite ready but didn't want to disappoint him. His demand and her fear were getting her close, though.

"Cum," he said again, like an invitation. Like permission. Jess' breathing got more erratic and she felt herself start to tremble.

"Cum!" he barked at her. The force of it startled her and it flipped some switch inside. Her breath caught in her throat and she went taught as a bow string when the orgasm hit. It crashed against her like a wave and then she was under it, unable to breathe as it went on and on because he was still fucking her. Steady but relentless. She wanted to thrash and scream but all she could do was shake while her otherwise paralyzed body was jolted back and forth by his pounding cock.

After an eternal moment of drowning in the intensity Jess finally broke and had to breathe. She gasped and started panting and every breath came out as an "Oh God! Oh God!" again and again. He kept her helpless, teetering on the peak as he fucked her harder. It wasn't until her gasps turned into sobs that he started making his own sounds that he was close. Jess heard the change and couldn't wait for him to drive his cock home hard and stay there, shooting and twitching inside her. Then she could wrap herself around him and keep him there forever.

But he had other ideas. He knew what he wanted for every, single, step of this.

He pumped a few more times and then pulled out of her, suddenly. Jess opened her eyes just in time to see him crawling up her body and knew enough to close them again. She felt the first hot spurt streak up her sternum. Her cunt twitched at that, and at the quick thought of what was next. She felt it on her neck. Then... She quivered as the warm ropes hit her face. He painted her in long streaks, from her forehead to her chin. More times than she thought humanly possible. The feeling of it, along with the image her mind conjured of this fully-clothed, frightening stranger jacking off onto her face, broke something inside. She came apart a little bit and relished it. She felt small. And helpless. And degraded. She wanted to live in that moment forever.

She was barely aware of him getting up and straightening himself out. Then he was over her again, his grip in her hair. and she blinked her eyes open. She took all of him in at that instant. He looked big, and mean, and dark. He filled up the whole room, somehow, as he bent over her and held her face up to his.

"This was all just a bad dream," he spat at her.

Then he unceremoniously dropped her head on the floor and it lolled to the side as he stalked out of the room. Jess thought she heard the door open and shut but it was too hard to focus. The smell of his cum on her face was consuming all her senses. Even as she raised her head off the floor to look down at herself it filled her like a cloud she couldn't escape.

What a sight.

She was naked save for the pieces of shirt and pants that clung to her. Her shoes and socks were still on. Somehow the substantial running shoes, one remaining pant-leg, and bits of sleeve that hung on only made her feel more exposed. Her nudity more prominent. She looked vulnerable. She looked...pitiful. Abused. The sight of herself, plus the overwhelming smell of him filling her head, was just too much. The back of her skull slammed down onto the floor and her body arched as she came so hard she squirted. Trying to catch her breath, she lay there panting and only managed to keep filling her head with that smell which just set her off again. Once, twice again she came, squirting onto the floor and convulsing like she was possessed. She laid there shaking and knew if she didn't make herself get up soon she would really lose all control.

Eventually, Jess got her shaky legs to operate and stood slowly up, only to be greeted by her reflection in the hotel room mirror. Jesus, she thought. Her hair was a wild halo around her face which glowed pink save for the thick, white streaks that crossed it diagonally. They went all the way from her right temple to her left jaw. The image nearly made her cum again. She almost didn't recognize that feral-looking creature with the flashing eyes. Later, she would wish she'd taken a picture. It was one of the sexiest things she'd ever seen. She couldn't know, then, that it wasn't necessary. That was an image that would stay with her for a very, very long time.

Begrudgingly she made her way to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She knew, or at least she hoped, that he would be back soon and she wanted to be ready for whatever came next.