Walking on The Last Day of School Ch. 02

The following very dark story has themes of misogyny, non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse, sex slavery and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.

In a drunken daze, my eyes flutter open. Everything is dark and confusing as I can't remember where I am or what's happened. But in the dark I feel something pressed against my lips. It's hard, like glass. It's the lip of a bottle.

When I figure it's a bottle, I open my mouth. As the liquid pours into my mouth, my sight returns to me, turning from the fuzzy, dizzy images into full blown sight. But as my sight returns, so do my other senses, and I taste the harsh, rough vodka that he's pouring into my mouth. And it's not just a sip of the cheap liquor, but filling my mouth with it, as if my mouth was a bowl or something.

Memories of what happened return, pumping me with conflict and confusing emotions. Fear, pleasure, terror, pain, anger, degradation and more all come pouring into me as I recount everything. Yet despite the dark pit in my stomach and the flutter of butterflies in my heart, I know that I'm being emotionally manipulated by my captor.

He's been pouring vodka into me regularly, possibly even every hour. At first I thought he was doing this to make me pass out so he can sleep, or maybe to use me, but I can tell that's not the reason. He's drugging me. As someone that rarely ever drinks, the liquor is keeping me emotionally stunned and unable to think clearly. It's making his life easier as I can't think of how to break free nor can I find the courage to do so.

Looking about the small campsite, I see the sun has already risen, allowing light to chase away the darkness of night. It's still early morning, but at least now I'm able to see my surroundings. During the night I felt trapped as the darkness settled around us, except for the parts chased by the campfire he made. If only the sunrise chased him away and saved me.

My wrists feel like they've been ripped off if I'm being honest. It's been hours or maybe half a day since he's tied me here, with my hands still tied behind my back, not that he was the one to do this. He just lucked out that's how he found me.

Since we are deep into the forest, no one has found me. I never considered how large this forest is since it's behind my neighborhood, but I see now that it is super huge. I mean, I don't think anyone even heard any of my screaming, moaning or crying as he did all the things he did to me. And this was all night long.

The new booze makes me go even more lightheaded now. It makes me think how I can't believe this happened to me. Stuff like this happens in bad movies. You know, the movies on Prime that don't even have movie trailers. It's not supposed to happen in real life. I don't even think this stuff happens in extreme pornos.

My drunk mind goes fuzzy as I recount how all this started. I sink into my drunken mind again, closing my eyes so I don't have to look at my own naked body as I stand. It's either look at my naked, abused and raped body, or look at him. Neither are good options.

Yesterday as I was walking home from my last day of school, my bullies grabbed me. They were a bunch of band bitches that for some reason took a hating to me. They drove up on me in a truck and being the evil bitches they are, they kidnapped me. Grabbed me and threw me into the back of the truck they were all traveling in. And in the back of that truck they stripped me completely and tied my hands behind my back.

Laughing at what they had done, they drove me to the woods behind my neighborhood. There they pushed me out, naked and helpless, intending for me to walk home like this. For the neighborhood to see me naked and embarrassed as I tried to get home.

Only that's not what happened.

As I tried to make my way through the forest trail, a crazy old doomsday prepper woodsman found me. Like a character from a bad backwoods hick book, he is an old crazy bastard, complete with long beard and woodland attire. And ohhhh, this guy is evil. Pure, fucking evil. The bastard didn't even wait 5 minutes before he raped me, fucking me like an animal.

I feel my body tense as I start to think of all that he did to me. The things he made me say. The things he made me do. The things he did to me. All things I don't want anyone to know happened, ever. Even if they made me cum harder than I thought possible.

As I think of these things, even I question if they really happened as they are so out-there. It's stuff that I'm not sure the police would put in the report as they would say I just went crazy and imagined the stuff. Like when he made me beg him to rape me because I'm a woman, and that's his right. Or when he made me make my tits clap together while begging to have a noose put around my neck.

Shuddering, I try to push those thoughts out, but then I remember him taking me here, to his campsite. Here he did put a noose on me, which is what keeps me in place. It's pulled very tight, so if I take a step in any direction, it'll tighten around my neck. And since my hands are tied behind my back, it's not like I can remove it or anything.

For the entire day and night he used and abused my naked body. I was raped multiple times, in which there isn't a part of my body he didn't use. And he punished me horribly, from whipping me, to shoving something up my ass to make me cry. He did things that I'm ashamed to ever repeat.

What makes it all so horrible, is that my body has betrayed me. Through so much of what he did, I enjoyed it. Not just enjoyed, but came countless times. That this evil bastard has tapped into some dark part of me that wanted what is happening. He's able to flare that dark part of me which keeps sabotaging me.

It sabotages me by instead of screaming for help all the time, I stay quiet. Instead of biting his dick when he puts it in my mouth, I allow him to shove it in my throat. Instead of kicking him as hard as I can, I spread my legs when he tells me to. I've started to do whatever he said in reaction instead of thinking about it.

I'm not sure what's going to happen to me. There is no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't mind killing me. Sure, he might not end me on purpose, but I don't think he'll lose sleep over it. If I really had to guess what he might do, I would say he intends on selling me. That he'll find some other crazy old bastard that would love to purchase a strung up, helpless eighteen year old black girl. It makes me see that I need to get out of here. I need to get free and save myself as my life is on the line.

The crazy woodsman puts the bottle back to my lips again, forcing me to take another sip, even if I don't want it. When he pulls the bottle back, he grabs my mouth to keep it closed. He knows if he doesn't, I'll spit out the booze. So I swallow, knowing if I don't, he won't let me breath as he holds my nose closed. The vodka goes down, burning as it does ensuring that I'm kept drunk. Not tipsy, not buzzed, but full on drunk.

Now that he's done what he wanted to do, he walks away, looking me to look down at myself. I see he's removed all the stuff he put on me last night. I had to stay standing the entire night, which put me in a sort of weird daze, especially as he made sure to keep me drunk. It made for a long night of blacking out and going into weird dream states.

Last I remembered, he tied up both of my breasts tight, even put mousetraps on my nipples, but now they are gone. He also inserted something up my ass for no other reason than to laugh at me, but that's gone too. In fact, there's nothing in any of my holes. Nor is anything tied except my hands. All that is keeping me in place is the noose around my neck that's tied to the branch overhead.

The crazy woodsman walks off, again acting like he doesn't have a kidnapped, naked 18 year old girl tied to a noose in his campsite. To look at him, you would think this is just a normal fucking day. That there's nothing out of the ordinary at all.

Swaying as the booze hits me hard, I watch him walk to the fire he's made where he proceeds to cook himself breakfast. Just sits down and cooks, again making this feel so surreal. There's not even a hint of him being nervous about someone finding me like this, which would end with him in jail.

"W-What...what more are you g-g-going to do to m-me?" I ask in slurred, stammered words several minutes later, needing to know. Despite being so drunk, I am still very concerned at what he has planned. I doubt it's just another day of fucking me. He's far too evil to leave it at just that. Again, I bet anything that he's going to try and sell me.

"I know what you think of me," the old man says, ignoring my question. He then takes his pan off the fire, to which the bacon he's cooking smells really good. I hadn't noticed how hungry I am, as all I've had to eat is literally his cum. I almost ask for a piece, but then consider he'll no doubt make me earn it somehow, which makes me pass.

"You think I'm just an old man that's gone crazy from living alone out in the woods," he tells me, putting all the items he has cooked on his plate. The asshole doesn't even look at me when he says this as his back is to me. It shows he has no fear of me getting free either.

"That I'm just an old man that got lucky in finding you," he muses and even laughs. He pauses at this, as if finding this really, really funny. Then he starts to eat his breakfast.

"I know who you are, young lady. I've seen you walk through these woods countless times. Just like I've seen all of your classmates. And all the housewife joggers. Or the social media princesses, trying to get viewers by rolling around naked in nature," he tells me. My drunk mind tries to process what he's saying, but I have trouble. It sure sounds like he's saying he's been watching not just me, but everyone that walks in these woods.

"You are so wrapped up in yourself to think that you're the first that I've taken in these woods. My first victim. You aren't. Hell, you aren't even the tenth," he says, stunning me.

He's done this to other women? No. No way. Something like this would have been reported and picked up by every news station in the country. No way he has done it to anyone here. No one would keep this a secret. They would warn the entire fucking world. If it happened, then why hadn't I heard of it?

One thing about being drunk that I never knew, is that I can't lie to myself. Normally if I think of something I don't want to admit, I can willingly bury it in some other thought. But as drunk as I am, it takes too much energy to try and lie to yourself. That's why I admit that I personally am never going to share what he did to me if I get out of this.

Depending on how I get free, I most likely will not say anything at all. Having to describe what happened would be so incredibly humiliating. To say all the times you had sex, or the strange ways you were punished. Or the things you had to say? All that is bad enough, but then to admit that you enjoyed it?!

"By now your family is freaking out, wondering where you are. They no doubt have already called the police when you didn't come home yesterday. All police in the area should be on the look out for someone with your description, especially as you live so close to the school," he tells me, resuming his meal.

"If those cops have half a brain, they'll talk to those girls that dumped you in my forest. Afterall, the school has a series of cameras pointed in that direction," the old man reveals, showing just how much he knows the area. I had never considered that the school might have recorded the band bitches grabbing me. Nor did I consider what the police first steps would be.

Another wave of shock runs over me as I didn't know he knew who had stripped me. I know he would know that someone set me up, but he knows exactly who did it. That would mean he saw the entire thing. Not just saw it, but ran to get me.

"Which means pretty soon, the cops will search this forest," the old man says with a hint of sadness. But he continues eating, not letting this information bother him too much. I, on the other hand, stay silent as I'm not sure what to say, so I just listen.

"I could move you. Take you along with me out of this forest and hide you. Then return once they are gone to keep you as my little darkie slave with big tits, forever," the old man muses, but I can tell by his tone that this isn't an option for him. That it's just meant to scare me.

"But nah. That'll be too much work. Far too much work," he tacks on. After all that he's done to me, I consider that this is a joke, but I can tell it's not. He's serious. He no longer wants to put too much energy or work into me.

The old man finishes eating now, and empties the crumbs off his plate. He then stands up and walks to his pack, where he takes out a comb. Now he turns to look at me as he combs his beard.

"So...I plan on preparing you to be found," the evil old bastard informs me, looking me in the eyes as he says this, where I see how sharp and cold they are.

For some odd reason, I can look at those eyes now. Before I had trouble doing this, or had to be forced to do it, but now? Now I can look directly into those eyes where I know he's the one in control. I'm not sure it's because I'm so drunk, or if I've reached some broken frame of mind.

"P-P-Prepare...me?" I stammer, a shiver of fear making its way from my drunken emotions to run over me. I gulp at this as I do not like the sound of that, at all. It sure sounds like the beginnings of being sold.

"I need to make sure my legend lives on. That whenever someone steps foot into my forest, they will feel fear and worry of what will happen if I catch them," he explains, a tone of joy and excitement in his voice. No, not joy...but arousal. He's getting off on the mere thought of strangers being scared of him.

My body starts to tremble now. My mind plays horrible images of what he might consider "preparing me" might be. Beating me black and blue? Strangling me? Beheading me? As crazy and evil as he is, there's no telling what he's prepared to do. It might even be him fucking me for hours straight.

But he's right in what will happen. I know that even in my drunken state. If I'm found like this, his legend will live. The cops will find me and the sheer horror of what he's done will spread as they tell fellow cops, friends and family. It'll be something they can never forget, which will spread like a fire in dry grass. Everyone will learn how evil he is and fear going into this forest for years to come.

"W-W-Wait. You...you don't have to. I...I can m-make sure your legend lives on. I promise. I'll make you so powerful that people will think you are supernatural," I offer in fear, my voice quivering. It's not the best idea that I've ever had, but it's my only idea.

I stare at him wanting a response, cold fear running all over my naked body again. I really don't want to find out what "prepared to be found" means. Whatever it is, will be painful and humiliating. Nor do I want to because a sideshow attraction that people will flock to get a glimpse of.

"Oh, I know. People will think I'm the fucking Devil himself," the old man finally replies and laughs. His laughter gets louder the longer he goes, sounding like it goes all over the forest. He continues to laugh for several minutes, even as he puts all of his items away and washes his plate and pan.

And as he laughs, I stay quiet and still, drunk and scared. I fight to think of something to do, but my mind feels like it's about to go on vacation. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I pass out at any moment as my heart pounds fast from either the fear or booze.

The thought to just start screaming floats in my head, but I know he'll silence me long before anyone finds me. Then I think that I can kick him when he gets close, but unless that kick knocks him out, it'll end bad for me. And that's assuming I can even kick straight with how drunk I am. After those two thoughts, I can't really think of anything else.

"Now, I've been thinking about your name," he ponders as he starts to take down his tent. He's already gathered up most of his stuff, making it clear he's not staying at this campsite much longer. It's all nicely packed up and ready to go.

"I have the perfect name for you. The name you will introduce yourself as from this point on. The name that everyone will remember you by for the rest of your life. The only name you will call yourself," he informs me, folding the fabric of this tent.

I bite my lip at this, as it's clear he's not talking about my real name. I wish he didn't act so calm and collected as he says all this. I know that this is some sort of game by him and whatever name he's thinking of is to make me feel pathetic or stupid. Something to help torture me in his unique but creative way.

"Fuck-Tits. That's going to be your name from now on. Fuck-Tits," the old man reveals, stopping to finally look directly at me. The expression on his face as he looks at me is one of expectation, as if waiting for my reaction.

My mouth drops open in response, as I wasn't expecting something so crude. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but "Fuck-Tits" wasn't it. Maybe "whore" or "slut" but not that. It sounds so horrible as it points out the body part that I'm the most insecure about. The body part that he's seemed to focus on the entire time I've been held prisoner.

"Go ahead, try it out," the evil bastard says as a suggestion, but I really know it's an order. His lips have curled into a horrible smile that was born from seeing my horrified reaction. And as much as I don't mean to, I look down on his to see that yes, he has a tent in his pants. He's getting off on seeing me in this state and knowing I'll call myself that horrid name.

After a long moment, I position my lips to repeat that ugly name, but stop. I have a light bulb moment as my drunk brain starts to make several new connections. Long moments pass as I see these connections, but don't know what they mean. And then the realization hits me. A horrible, terrible realization which makes my eyes widen even more.

I feel the color drain out of me as the horror of this realization gets more intense. It makes me understand that this isn't going to just be a bad couple of days that I can get over. He's really planning to ruin my life. To make what he does to me the only thing that defines me. The thing that people will think whenever they see or think of me.

This vile, evil, crazy, horrible son of a bitch is going to try and break me, mentally and emotionally. To make my mind snap. To break who I am so I'll be...so I'll be, well, I don't know what I'll be, but I'm guessing something that even a sex slave will find pathetic. That the real me will be gone forever and what replaces it will be some horrid sex abuse craving victim or something.

And it all starts with that name. He'll make me call myself that name over and over, even punish me if I get it wrong, so I'll believe it. That in time, I'll really think it is my name and forget my real one. That it'll be the only name I will associate with myself. That I will willingly and happily tell people that name when I introduce myself.

"Please, mister, no. Don't do this. I've been good. I've done everything you wanted. You got to fuck me in every way too and I never once fought back. Please. PLEASE. Can't you please let me go?" I beg with all my might. My watering eyes look at him, pleading with him not to do this as I repeat my begging.

"I-I-If you want...I don't even have to say what happened. I can tell people I got drunk and passed out. Unless you want me to say what happened. T-T-Then I'll tell them whatever you want me to say. I can even say some crazy shit that I think you are an alien or something! But PLEASE, don't do this to me!" I beg and plead, fueled by my drunken mind. I even consider offering to suck his cock each and every day of my life.