So what do we have? I'm obviously going to fuck, here without options. And what, the place is quiet, the night, the setting is more intimate than it is, there are no people around, I don’t even know why he silenced my mouth - I don’t want to yell right there, no one will hear. I do not want, by the way. Rather, do not.

Beast can not show fear. It makes no sense to count on pity, tears and prayers have the opposite effect - provoke, intoxicate with a feeling of power and authority. The beast can not, does not know how to sympathize with the victim, so it is arranged - just unable to put itself its place. Do I not know how it is. After all, I myself a predatory breed - and that is what is more disgusting for me.

But also to tease the beast with showy courage, to behave defiantly is also a mistake. It is foolish to hope that the beast recognizes a fellow in you - no, for it you will remain a victim, just a daring one, which you need to teach a couple of cruel lessons, so that you know your place. True, this point has nothing to do with my situation - what will I do, connected? And the legs? I try to move, but my ankles are also tightly wound. Heck.

And the lousy thing is this scotch on the lips. In the glove compartment is a certificate, now it would scare me and offer to disperse in an amicable way until nothing critical happened. Of course, there are two scenarios. In the first, more likely, I am released with apologies, but in the second my cold corpse appears. There is no person - there is no problem, and it’s not a fact that he will decide to rely on my unflammation, even taking into account the fact that he seems to have compromise on me - this is a double-edged weapon. To know how far he is ready to go, whether he is capable of murder - not in affect, but consciously. But it is better to overestimate the enemy than to underestimate, so we proceed from the fact that yes, it is capable — in order to stun a woman with a clear intention to fuck, without being drunk, without any provocations on her part, a special character is needed.

With skirt finished. Catching up under the arms, the Predator puts me on my feet with one wrench — strong, reptile, I’m not a shallow girl, I’m of the same height as him, even on my heels — they are not so tall. The head is spinning from a jerk, and now the stomach is protesting, although not very loudly. Moreover, I am waiting for the continuation of an acrobatic etude - the next moment I am shouldered and carried ... Where? Not far away - literally after a few steps, the guy again puts me on the floor, holding me by the shoulders, when I almost fall - to stand with my legs tied, and even on my heels, the task is not easy, especially if the legs are wadded.

“Stand like this, we will settle everything,” Predator says. Now he has the same look again, because of which I christened him with this name in our last meeting. A sort of mixture of enthusiasm, hunger and cruelty, so the cat looks at the strangled, but still alive mouse: come on, run, I want to play more! Oh, no, my crusts will not frighten him. And this is the bulge in the groin proof. What to do? Fall on his back, and then, when it comes, to drop in the groin with his feet? Yeah, and then he wakes up, and then I’m sure Khan. So, it is necessary to beat so that he does not wake up. Then somehow unleash.

But he reads like thoughts. He stretches his hand behind my back, catches something in the air, and the next moment the jacket on my back is stretched, slamming into the armpits - I, like a kitten in mother's teeth, find myself hooked by the collar, as I understand it, as a hook of the very same winch whether hoists.

And here I get scared. What if it's revenge? What if something connected him with that girl, because he disappeared somewhere when she was killed - it is quite possible that he only found out about everything, and ...No, the same nonsense! Why, then, I - just because I turned up under the arm? Yes, and it did not seem that they know each other. No, most likely, all this is just a coincidence, no more. Do not panic!

Easier said than done. Because in the hands of the Predator is now an automotive safety belt, tied with some kind of clever noose, and he puts it on my neck at all not in the manner of a tie. And then he unhooks my jacket from the hook, and, standing close to me, so that my face is very close to his, and his chest touches his chest, fiddles with something behind my nape - the other end of the loop clings to the hook, it must be understood.

I hit his head right in the nose. Or rather, I try - the blow comes in passing, his reaction is excellent - a boxer? Apparently, yes, because the blow that flown into my stomach throws me back with the force of a steam hammer, I would have flied further, if not a loop - and so, having lost my footing under my feet, I fight like a fish caught on a bait, trying to restore balance, the throat intercepts with a belt, the toes of the boots cling to the concrete, again, it hurls me like a pendulum, there are circles before my eyes, I want to inhale, but I can't, I can't ...

Chipping at my breasts brings me balance. The eyes of the Predator are right in front of mine. Very angry eyes, but at the bottom splash surprise. On the cheekbone, where the blow fell - a good such bruise, I beat with force, confident that I had nothing left to live on. For a few very long seconds this silent duel of looks lasts, and then ... Then he smiles.

“Well, you are a hot little thing,” he again raises his hand to my head, and I shudder, cover my eyes mechanically, waiting for the blow, but the Predator with a gesture of a magician again takes something out of thin air. This time it is an oblong box with buttons hanging on the end of the wire. He presses a button, above his head, quietly buzzing and clicking - I feel the noose tighten, pull me up, so that I have to stand on my toes, after which the noise stops. It is quite possible to breathe, although the sensation in the throat is unpleasant, I constantly want to swallow, or even better - to cough, and the nail in the back of my head has grown to the size of a railway crutch.

- Everything, relax, - the Predator quite peacefully says, - nobody is going to kill you. You and I will play a little, Mai. According to my rules, without vanilla and stop words. Try not to twitch, and I promise you - you'll like it. Do you remember where we met? In such places, ordinary people do not go. People like me and you are people of the face, Mai. We like to stand on the edge of the abyss and look into it, and sometimes we don’t give a damn about the heads of those who fuss there at the bottom. The gulf is so attractive, right? But jump country. Sometimes it is necessary that someone ... pushed, - the last word he exhales in my ear. Now he is standing close, to the side, resting on my thigh with his groin, and I can feel his hard dick. The hand rests on my chest, squeezes - lightly, the thumb touches the nipple, immediately gathered in a ball, strokes in circles, hardly touching, but even after four layers of fabric I feel this touch keenly, almost painfully. And the Predator continues to purr in my ear, rubbing my thigh with a member, not paying attention to the fact that I barely stand: - Today we will do what you yourself would not dare. I pushed you into the abyss, May, you already fly-see ... And I'll catch you down there, if, of course, you believe me. Do you believe me, Mai? Nod.

Believe Hell no. I do not believe a single word, because I remember how comfortable it is to lash in the palm of your hand, when in front of you is defenseless naked flesh. How hard it is to stop, even knowing that everything is for fun. And when you feel real power, when there is only a beast and prey - is it possible at all, to stop yourself, when the mouth already squeezes the trembling throat, and the hot sweet blood here it is, should you only squeeze your teeth?

And I still do not believe it because it carries a falsehood for a kilometer. Thoughtful theatricality, and these words are all beautiful, about pushing into the abyss - they don’t go to him, they aren’t combined with greasy combos and an old baseball cap.Experience should be behind the similar, it should be experienced and suffered, and not read in VKontakte statuses. How old is he? Not more than a quarter, or even less - a large constitution adds years. A puppy trying to play a wolf is what it is. But that is dangerous - not seeing the limits, not knowing his strength, runs the risk of playing.

But I need him to believe me. ... Read more →