crime dolls verseXsith

[Verse]

Ruuga Hayate had always liked the Silver Lining café. He'd been a fan when it was still Tsao's Restaurant. Though Tsao Wing Peng fast learned a Chinese cuisine establishment was still subject to Yakuza taxes and folded early under the expenses of paying for protection. In Yareli city, you had to make peace with the criminal element or MOVE THE FUCK OUT. The port city was rife with opportunities if you could wade through the complicated undergrowth. Mostly Triad vs Yakuza, the former kept in order by the Xuy, a collection of triad groups, and the later ruled by Kageyama, the largest single family owned Yakuza. There were russians and other smaller entities floating about, too. While Ruuga paid tribute to Kageyama, he ran his own small outfit, catering and working with most of the Yakuza and almost anyone else who'd buy his services.

Lately, he'd been been on the business side of things, but he still kept a lot of muscle around, when he didn't dabble in the physical stuff, himself.

The Silver was owned by Joe March. Good man, because he had backers. Enough to pay Ruuga as he got things going, after renovations and some heavy PR. Now The Silver was running smoothly, and so were the bi-weekly bribes. Joe had even let Ruuga make a few interior design decisions. Yeah, the owner knew how to make potential enemies into friends. Maybe Tsao had too, if he'd had the money. Ruuga had laid his smart jacket on the other seats in the room Joe had shown him too. Always insisted the Hayate son stay for a bite. The night had been lucrative but rough on the career criminal. good thing the weathered eyes looked good in his youthful face. No smoking area but Joe himself had provided the ashtray. There was already two filters in the glass bowl, and a third in the corner of Ruuga's mouth.

Built long, he reminded of a spider, inclined against the wall, his head touching a hung-up painting as he looked up into the ceiling. His lengthy neck led down to the beginning of sturdy trapezius, even if most of him was athletic, leaning emaciated, rather than bulky. That's why he looked good in these suits. Still had his white vest over the burgundy shirt, and the buttons undone to show off the ink he'd gotten at the River Parlor where Keijin Lenaka under Kagayama itself got his needling done. Ruuga's face would have been gaunt, living off violence and whores - some of them paid for and some of them made into it by him - if his innate strength didn't give him that threatening energy from within. Like he'd pounce even at this dreadful, post-lunch hour. The tattoos reaching up his throat seemed to reanimate when he breathed in the tar and illness in the cigarette. When he exhaled it was a fire-alarm hazard.

Not that his features weren't death-like, in some of the 'cozy' lighting in here. He didn't mind. He sat up and ashed and held the filter to his brow while shut his eyes. In his self-imposed darkness he thought about his decision to eat here. Had felt like a good idea when Joe was so gung-ho about it, like he always was, but sitting here in the silence before being served, Ruuga wondered if he wouldn't rather have his cock sucked while holding a bottle of heavy liquor. It was his preferred method of coming down. He opened his lids and looked at the fat envelope beside the ashtray. He smiled and flicked the paper tongue open to see the bills grin back at him, they were so cramped. He liked the physical treasures more than the numbers on his accounts.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and rolled the smoke between his thumb and pinky. It was hard going from beating the brains outta guy owing him and then come to this tranquil, clean place. Got him a bit antsy, actually. Maybe he had wanted Joe to be late on payment, finally, and today would be the day he'd get to see how the dad-bod restaurateur looked under the light of his own freezer room, bleeding from his swollen eyes. It made Ruuga chuckle out more smoke. For a moment he looked boyish, dapper, without knowing it himself, some of his brushed-back black hair falling forward into one dark eye.

Yeah, drinks or something better come quick.

 

[SithRebel]

Robyn stood in the darkened corner, counting tip money. It was her break. Her take was 25% less than yesterday when she waited on a crew of 14 men. They pawed her, made lewd comments, and one slipped her his number. Another man, who eyed her the whole time, took a picture of her legs and said he would post it online that night. She didn't check. No matter what the crew did or said, Robyn held a smile for the gentlemen. She needed the money badly.

Strands of blonde hair fell into her face, hiding her lost expression. She liked working at the Silver Lining café. Joe was fair and kept his hands to himself. The pencil-thin red dress accentuated her figure, but the shoes were a bit more than she was used to, and the black tights made her sweat. She hated wearing pantyhose. Back home, she would wear sensible shoes and bare legs while she stood at the checkout counter watching some fat lady with six kids wheel up with six cartons of beer. Robyn preferred to endure the city.
Five minutes left.

Still in a darkened corner, Robyn removed her shoes and rubbed her tired feet. She was used to parading in six-inch heels and slipping them off for class or while at a desk. Wearing them all day and waitressing was never part of her plan. What was her plan? The 19-year-old blonde tried to recall. It didn't matter. $30,000 in credit card debt wiped out any hope of college. At least her senior year was a blast, and for a moment, she smiled. Memories began to flow – cheerleading, prom night, fucking her man in the back of his Porsche. Her soft, pale skin would shine in the moonlight when they parked on Hermitage Hill.

"Hey, Cormick! Quit daydreaming and take care of the guy in the back."

"I have two more minutes," she shot back while putting on her shoes. There was no use in arguing with Joe. Robyn placed her money back in her pack and dutifully approached the back. She knew Joe was connected. He had to be. In Yareli city, you were either a part of the solution, part of the problem, or one of the many powerless victims. Robyn knew to keep her head down and her mouth shut. She always put on her practiced smile and heard nothing.

Mei Pang, another waitress in the café, quickly took her aside. About a week ago, Pang waited on a regular in the back room. She came back crying, but she had a lot of money in her pack. "You need money, right?" Robyn knew where the conversation was headed.

"Not that badly."

She lied.

"No, no. Ruuga Hayate. He helped Joe get set up. He'll help you."

Robyn pulled away. "And incur 100% interest due in a week, or someone will fish my body out of the river?" Robyn shook her head.

Mei let go, lowering her voice. "Yeah, the guy's a gangster, but they take care of their own. At most, you'll owe him a favor. Maybe he'll let you collect some money for him?" Pang smiled at her friend, knowing what would happen. She'd walk out of the room in tears with a wad full of cash, her pride dented, but enough money to pay the rent.

Robyn knew it was a bad idea, but asking wouldn't hurt. Would it? The girl nodded, picked up a menu, tray, and fresh glass of water, and started again for the back. As she passed the lounge, a familiar voice blared over the television. Robyn couldn't help herself. She stopped momentarily to see Katherine Brant's smile lighting up the room.

One of the few bright spots in the city, Kate Brant had carved a name for herself with a successful techcom corporation turned conglomerate and her many charities. Brant made many scheduled public appearances, but this one was a surprise. It was going to kill Robyn to miss the press conference. Quickly, the blonde shimmied into the back room, a prepared smile plastered on her face.

"My apologies for my tardiness, sir. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." Robyn gracefully placed the menu and glass of water on the table. In the back of her mind, she recalled the tattoos but had never waited on the gentleman. "My name is Robyn, and I will take care of you today." The girl suddenly turned away, hearing Brant's voice declare a race for the US Senate. She could hardly contain her joy, squealing as she closed the door. "I'm sorry. You won't be disturbed again."

With a pad and pen ready to take the order, Robyn debated her decision. "Let me know if you want an appetizer or something to drink before your entre."

 

[Verse]

This room was soundproof mostly, but in the quiet of the hour, and the quiet of his adrenalized brain, he could make things out. He counted the coils of smoke up toward the ceiling while listening to the report outside, and something that have better fucking be the heels of one of the red dresses that flitted around this place, serving. He smiled to himself. The Brant woman was on his radar. If he got her in his pocket, he'd have some leverage within the organization. Sometimes Kageyama pooled their leverage on New City. Hayate could add to that, or just take care of her himself. She was easy to look at too, with her severe, collected expression. But there had to be a pussy and a pair of tits under that public persona, too. So far his eyes and ears had only been able to gather public knowledge; party girl and shit. Used to be that she only had to be a dyke to stir up some discontent. Brant was thriving off eating pussy, in this day and age.

He was in the process of lowering his cigarette when the door opened. This room almost felt like too much when he didn't have company. It made sense for a private party though, and when the blonde came in, it kinda felt like one. She'd know, not just from the smoke in here, but from whatever blood he seeped into it, that he was something other than the patrons she'd smiled and waited on before. The Silver didn't really get all the bad clientele their protection money suggested. But it's a good move to have the baddest on your payroll instead.

She wore the uniform well. It had been one of his suggestions. If this was going to be a fancy place, guys gotta get hard when the girls walk by. It was Joe's own fault for letting Ruuga have a say. He liked a woman who started with an apology, though. He dusted some fall-out burnt leafs onto the tray and took her in real slow. Gorgeous, naïve thing. Ah, Joe was his bro, after all.

She'd see the fat envelope, it shifted and opened up when she put the menu down. He took up the water with his smoking hand. The filter sucked the side where condensation was collecting. He was a bit distracted by the announcement that snuck in before the girl closed the door. Brant was becoming more of a hot ticket. He needed to put more pressure on his recon team.

And then there was only Ruuga and this Robyn. Small town smell about her, but with that glassy desperation in her eyes. Ah, he'd seen Robyns before. But he liked the look of this one. White chicks had good, pink pussies, too. His long arm held out the glass and shook it. "Let's start with something heavier than this, yeah?" he said. And then he put it down. "Whatever's hard and expensive. Don't need to mix it. And I don't take ice in my day drinks." Hadn't always been so picky, but things were going well. "Robyn." he considered. "You're not from New City are you?" He had another drag and that was it for his current one. He dropped it in the glass and its sizzled quietly. He threw a glance at the menu where she'd laid it. "Meat. Maybe some dipping sauces."

Leaned back, long proportions, and folded his arms over his chest, all the while looking her over and under. She had a good mouth. He wasn't sure he'd let her leave without showing what else, too. But she looked like she might do part of the work for him. Sometimes the waitresses here wanted stuff. He made it worth his while. What was the girl from a couple of weeks ago? Mei? She'd taken it in the ass like a champ for some help with carpayments, if he wasn't mistaken.

 

[SithRebel]

Robyn cleared her throat and waved the smoke away from her face. The room was for nonsmokers, but she noticed an ashtray with a pile of butts and soot. Swirls of grey mist danced about the room, hovering around the dim lights. This guy was dangerous, Robyn thought, keeping her smile bright. She'd say nothing about the cigarettes unless Joe told her to.

The waitress felt like a hare desperate for a hiding place while his wolfish eyes traveled up and down her body. Usually, she liked the attention. At times in her past, Robyn counted on men and boys staring at her. She could count on a free meal and drink with just a smile. This guy, this Ruuga Hayate, was something else. He was one of the many clientele Joe saw after closing. Her smile cracked for a moment, her fear rising. Robyn thought to fall back on her old ways, twirling her hair and giving him an "aw shucks" routine that promised the world. No. He'd see through that act. Hayate saw she wasn't from the city. Not that she hid who she was, but most couldn't tell or didn't care. Maybe he was making conversation? No. She could tell he had her number. Now, she was scared, but she hid it well.

"I've only been in the city for a few months," Robyn confessed. "I grew up in a small town a million miles away. I'm sure you've never heard of it." That she and Ruuga shared a soundproof room wasn't lost on Robyn, and she had second thoughts about the money. The fact was, she hated the city. No – strike that. She hated being poor in the city.

The envelope on the table was tempting, though not to steal. She wasn't that stupid, though her eyes moved over the mound of cash just once. For a fleeting moment, she imagined herself as his woman, a kept woman. Robyn liked that idea. To have money, power, and freedom at the price of a few fucks a week. Ruuga was easy on the eyes, too. He was the kind of man women thought they wanted – dangerous. But he wasn't James Bond or Indiana Jones. Ruuga was the big bad with the white cat or the nazi. Robyn felt she'd end up as one of those cigarette butts crushed into the ashtray if the two did get involved.

Oddly, the young waitress knew the exact bottle of spirits Ruuga requested. Joe brought out a bottle for special customers now and then. A Japanese whiskey, two bottles would solve all her financial woes, and a single glass would pay her monthly rent. Meat, on the other hand, was vaguer than she liked, but the wolfish predator didn't seem like the type to repeat himself.

"Yes, sir. I will get this order in for you. Anything else while you wait?" Robyn took a moment, twirling the pen in her hand. The tool slipped and fell onto the floor. Was it nerves, or did she drop it on purpose? Giggling nervously, she squatted on the floor the way a lady should. At the same time, Hayate would get a quick peek at her cleavage. Hardly buxom, Robyn was still proud of her breasts – white, round, firm, and soft, they were a schoolboy's fantasy. "Sorry, she said with a genuine blush." Standing, Robyn assured the gentleman she would return with his order soon.

The girl turned to walk out. It was now or never, as he had gotten an eyeful for free. "And if you don't mind," she began, her hand fumbling at the door. "I'd – I'd – I would – like to discuss something with you … if you don't mind." She was ready for him to toss her out or call for her to be fired. She'd asked Joe for money several times, and he spotted her a couple of advances. She wouldn't see a paycheck for two months.

Her smile cracked as Robyn shot through the door as quickly as she could. The TV in the lounge was blaring, with Brant winning the crowd with her wit and charm. She introduced her wife, who looked made to order for a person with political ambitions. A pediatric oncologist and wealthy in her own right, the tall brunette had been with Katherine for nearly 20 years.

 

[Verse]

She drew taut under his attention. He liked that. They firmed up like they'd run, however much the modern world wanted them to hide it, since it could be insulting. Mostly it just looked like they were posing for him, making them a more palatable texture. If he could do this to her with just looking, she should be worried what he'd do with real contact. Ruuga was used to having this effect, and it looked lovely on the well-cut blonde. They were already engaged in this game. Really, he was just another customer, but she had seen the situation had changed, the moment her instincts picked him up. He asked and she offered the answer, like sacrifices of herself so he wouldn't take the whole thing. The truths came spilling out and he ate them, instead of the starters she offered. Modest little thing. "Geography wasn't my strong suite." he confessed. "Still, what´s the name?" It could be her nickname.

There was a starvation in her eyes when she saw the money. It was a pittance compared to the sums he moved with, but there'd be no riches at all if you didn't gather it, piece by piece. To her, this much might be the world. A visceral story played over her face when she was, momentarily, transfixed on the bills, pinched within the paper sleeve. Poor little, darling country belle. They were always treated so harshly when they came here alone, with a backpack of dreams and then competing with an endless stream of beauties just like them. He shifted comfortably in a situation that was most certainly not as comfortable for her.

She took his order like he was giving her directions to her survival. She looked so studious. But when she dropped her pen, he was startled by his own predatory impulses as she bent over. They were firm in there, and changed in shape when she bowed. His fingers curled against the table. Ah, maybe he'd found what he was hungry for. She was giving off the right hormones. He was so taken by his need to hurt her, see her skewered on his cock and whatever reactions she'd give him for it, that he didn't even have the wits to tell her what else he might want, while waiting. Maybe the night had taken more out of him than he thought. Or maybe this bumpkin was more fuckable than he'd originally clocked.

As it was going to slip out of his hands, she served herself up further to him. Turned and flashed her ass in that dress. Same as her breasts - edible things, filled up with her youth and aching to be enjoyed and bruised. Discuss? He nodded softly, but with his expression and the macabre ink up his neck, it was not the kind of soft that'd keep you warm at night. The inside of a snake's mouth, maybe. There are very few discussions between the men that own the city, and the girls that find themselves subject to its concrete terms.

She may see in his eyes that he already knew what she might need from him. His smirk was the same as any smirk from a creature with killing teeth. "Ah, right. I bet you do. Well, you gotta put me in a good mood then, Country Girl." he said and reached into the jacket on the other seats for another cigarette. He fished it out skillfully threaded it between three fingers like he'd snap it. "So hurry back and we'll see, yeah?"

He caught another few tidbits about the Brant woman when she opened the door, and smiled to himself about how she was building herself in the news. So many things to do. He lit up and added to the thick atmosphere with a couple of white exhales. He couldn't wait to see what Robyn thought she wanted from him, and what price he'd have her pay, right here in this room.

 

[SithRebel]

Her heels clipped across the wooden floors, echoing above the usual crowd chatter. Robyn cringed at herself for speaking out. What the hell was she thinking? Was she that desperate for money? Unfortunately, yes. Hopefully, Mei was right, and she'd owe Ruuga a favor. Something easy like a pickup or a lookout. Those small jobs came with considerable risks. Prison was not something she ever planned. Maybe she would forget it. That's it. She'd wave it off, serve the guy his food, and call it a close call.

The blonde handed the order to the cook, and he grimaced like a persimmon. "Meat?" he asked with a growl. Joe laughed and swiped the ticket from the cook's hand.

"Give it here."

Robyn spun toward the closed doors of the private room. She was a little bit in awe. Joe didn't cook. Ever. March was a fry cook from the east, flipping burgers and slinging hash. The blonde heard him tell stories about the good ol' days and how his kitchen was a warzone, steam bath, and triage center. As manager and owner of the Silver Lining café, Joe left that life behind.

"Get me the good sirloin from the locker. It's in the back."

The cook shrugged and did as he was asked.

Joe picked up the spatula, wielding it like an old samurai warrior who still had his touch. Clink! Clink! Metal hit metal. The grill was nice and hot but stained with sauce and meat.

"You," he fingered to Robyn and dug through his pants for a bundle of keys. "Take these and go into my office. The cabinet in the back. Open it and … very carefully … take a bottle of Karuizawa Ruby Geisha … you know what a Geisha is?"

Robyn nodded, too dumbfounded to say anything.

"And very carefully, bring it back here. Do. Not. Touch. Anything. Else."

Again, Robyn nodded, her mouth open like an idiot. Joe never let anyone touch his liquor. She took the keys and left. March smiled a little. He knew of her situation and had put the bug in Mei's ear about asking for money. A part of him felt sorry for the blonde and what would happen to her, but he had jerked off enough times imagining her plump lips around his hard cock. He and Ruugo shared her on the restaurant floor in his most depraved fantasies, but Hayate wouldn't stop at fucking her. For a moment, he wondered if he'd have to call a cleaning crew later. Reaching for a grill brush, he got to work. He'd scrub off most grease and meat, leaving a little for flavor.

The waitress entered Joe's office. She'd been there before. Most of the décor was centered on past glories. One wall held golf trophies. The giant oak desk was a pedestal for March's most prized possession – a baseball encased in a glass box. Robyn noted only one signature on the old ball—Babe somebody.

Pictures hung everywhere. Most of them were of Joe back in New York, shaking hands with celebrities, politicians, and a host of people Robyn didn't know. The odd one was a photo of Joe's grandfather surrounded by three guys and a blonde. Robyn didn't know Frank, Dean, or Sammy from a stranger, but the blonde was unmistakable. Even an 18-year-old from the 21st century knew of Marylin Monroe. The 50's icon was just a persona. Her real name was Norma Jean Baker, and she wasn't a platinum blonde. She was a small-town girl who got in over her head. Robyn could relate. How many times had she smiled for someone who pawed over her? The girl spotted the cabinet, zoomed in on the needed bottle, and was out of the office, holding the whiskey like a live grenade.

Joe plated the sirloin strips and added several dipping sauces. As Robyn approached, he took the bottle and keys from her, directing the waitress to the ready tray. "Serve him with a smile, and whatever he wants, he gets, even if it's not on the menu." Roby nodded slowly.

What did he say?

"You gotta put me in a good mood then, Country Girl."

With as much grace as she could muster, Cormick returned to the back room again. Her smile could light up the night. "Here you go, sir, with compliments from the manager." She let the lean stranger approve of his meal, standing vigil in case he had a concern.

"Beloit. Beloit, Kansas," Robyn said quietly. "That's where I'm from." She began to tremble, but what was the harm in asking? It beat being homeless. "As for … as for the discussion –" Robyn's eyes teared up. Her mouth went dry. "I heard that you help people with money." Her eyes cut to the envelope on the table, almost drooling. "It'll be a loan, and I'll pay it back, I promise." She rubbed her hands, wiping the dampness from her palms.

 

[Verse]

And, from all the worldly things she had seen in some literal, or comparative, Joe-Schmoe's office, the opposite waited for her when she came over, meat in hand. He was the antithesis of the jovial, prideful moments framed in her boss's office. Politicians and celebrities' and polished façades, they had a time-honored relationships to the underground where Ruuga spent most of his time. There was something in him, that inhale and let-out, when she put the bounty in front of him. He got a whiff of the sparse seasoning, but a look at her cleavage again, and a smell of it too, this close. He was sure not to lean in until she'd stood up again.

"He's a dime, isn't he?" he said about Joe, when she came with his compliments. He'd finished the smoke, mostly, by then, but the fact that it was still burning, though on low, should tell her how quickly Joe had done it. Another clue as to Ruuga's importance. He clucked his tongue to acknowledge where she was from. And said it too. "Beloit." like he'd christened her. "Kansas." All that was missing was some holy water. He let her dance around it after that. His time, but her life. Pinched one of those strips of meat and held it up to inspect it, and then lifted it over his mouth. When the chin lifted too, and she could see the column of his throat and the ink that courted it, she'd know he was predator ilk.

He dropped it and tore it between his teeth while he listened to her. Country girl had that poor-girl's hunch when she looked at the envelope. He licked his fingers. "Ah, city life draining ya, Beloit Kansas?" he asked with blood on his tongue before he swallowed it clean. She looked more delicious than this meal. He liked that Joe knew how to cook it, and when not to. He put a strip in a dip and was fast to put it between his lips and then fill his right cheek with it, chewing. How often do lambs watch lions eat? His finger was sucked clean again before he waved it at her.

"Now, now. Don't go making promises like that if you can't keep them." he warned, and it was genuine. But then he leaned back, and his last bit of mercy was spent when he swallowed and licked his teeth. "First I gotta see that you're earnest." he started. It was a bit he did. Dark eyes were unforgiving for the next thing. He nodded at her once, at her whole body. "Let me look at you, Kansas. Let me see what kind of girl leaves her cozy farm for the concrete jungle, but has to ask for help." He quickly lean forward and stuck two fingers in the envelope and then flicked the bill her way. One hundred dollars, with a streak of blood on it. Like it was nothing. Just so she'd know she was already in debt.

"You got other talents than waitin'? If it hasn't paid so far, why would it pay after I give you a loan?" It's just business for beginners. You don't put your gold on a sinking boat. "Comon. Let's see you out of that uniform, but keep the socks, and I'll tell you what I'll value you at, and you can have that." This visit at The Silver was turning out better than he though. Long arm took another strip and slid it over the dip on its way. He was cutting it to pieces with wolfy teeth soon, entertained, but not forever, if she thought she could stall. "Comon. Let's see you earn it."

 

[SithRebel]

Robyn stepped back, her nerves on edge, wiping the dampness from her palms on the side of her shirt. She made a mistake. Maybe he'd laugh off the request. She could suffer a moment of humiliation, and her sucky life would go back to normal. Ruuga slurped down the strips of sirloin with the enthusiasm of a lizard devouring its prey alive. Was he always this gross, or was it a show for her? A phony smile threatened to crack her cheeks as she watched, pretending to approve—the ever-dutiful female, standing at attention and awaiting orders.

"Beloit, Kansas. That's me," said Robyn, shuffling her stance. He called her 'Kansas' to mock her because, of course, he did. She thought to point to her name tag and correct him, but she was already scared. There was no need to make him angry. Besides, it was all play to this guy. She chuckled inside, but it was a nervous laugh formed from fear. This guy … this Ruuga thought he was a big man, and he probably was, but that didn't change the fact she'd seen the same bravado from losers working at the Dairy Queen after graduation.

"Y-you're right. I can't promise anything but could –" She stopped, watching him flick out the hundred-dollar bill. It lay there on the table, a temptation for her to snatch. She could grab the bill and run away, but that blood spot on Ben Franklin's face said otherwise. It wasn't a good idea to steal from this guy. And yet, she couldn't keep her eyes off the note.

After ripping into another piece of meat, Ruuga got to the point. Robyn was sure she heard wrong, but her left hand motioned for the door all the same. But she heard right. He wanted her to strip right there in the room with him. Robyn cursed Mei under her breath. Her face contorted from shock into disgust until shame washed over her. The blonde turned away, her eyes fixated on nothing. The waitress could still get out of it, she thought. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she faked a light giggle. "Maybe we should just forget it. Thank you for the offer, but I have to pass."

Still standing dutifully, Robyn waited for the inevitable tirade in which Ruuga snatched the bill back and shot a few barbed jokes at her expense. The $100 sat on the table untouched. Predator and prey sized one another up. Robyn's fear turned to anger.

"Look, I'm not going to do it, so you can just stuff your money back in that envelope." With the hint of a smirk, Robyn picked up the note and tossed it back. The bill fell softly onto the floor like an autumn leaf. Robyn left the room in a huff, bound to expose the creep to Joe, but March had no sympathy.

"I told you, whatever he wants."

No. This wasn't happening. Robyn shook her head. This. Was. Not. Happening! Screams filled her mind. She needed to run. She needed to hide.

"You owe me, Cormick." The old man had a soft spot, unlike Ruuga. He put his arm around the frightened girl, feeling her body shake. "Do this, and you don't owe me." Her glazed eyes met his stare. She tried to say no, her mouth moving, though nothing emerged. "If you don't do this …" Joe looked at her with pity. He might as well have told her that she had terminal cancer.

Robyn nodded without thinking. Her form, on autopilot, moved back to the private room. Her small chest heaved up and down from panic. She turned the nob and almost cried. Sneaking back into the room like a whipped pup, Robyn saw her tormentor still sitting at the table, casual, festive.

Strands of blond hair dangled in her eyes. She didn't pull them back. With fumbling fingers and not a word to her customer, Robyn unsnapped the button of her blouse. Each snap became more difficult as tears welled in her eyes. Her heavy breath and flushed cheek betrayed the girl's shame. Fingers with short fingernails, bitten to the nub from anxiety, tore at the white cotton top until it billowed open. The lace of a blue and white bra flashed through the sway of Robyn's shirt.

Mascara ran down her cheeks when she pulled the top over her shoulder, letting the blouse fall a second later. "Pl-please …" She finally whimpered, but his eyes told her she had a long way to go. Shimming out of the skirt, just as she did every day after work, Robyn stepped out of the black garment. Standing in her bra, panties, tights, and shoes, the woman pawed at her bra strap. Her breasts swayed when the first strap tumbled down. Unsnapping the bra, Robyn let out a cry. Her eyes shut tight, and let go. Milky white breasts, average in size, nearly a handful, spilled out, swaying again. Her nipples were soft but deliciously pink. Robyn turned away, shame ripping through her being.

Stepping out of her shoes and sobbing, Robyn's shame abruptly turned to anger as she tore off her tights. She was naked except for her panties. "There! Are you happy?" No. She wasn't done. Not yet.

Snot trailed from her nose as she blubbered while slipping off her pink and white underwear. There was nothing sexy about the way she looked. Her makeup was smeared, and streams of black mascara ran down her face. Her entire body was red as a boiled lobster from the embarrassment. Maybe it would turn him off. She hoped so. Instinctively, she turned away, one hand covering her breasts, the other her crotch. Bushy, blonde pubic hair poked through her fingers as the Cormick girl cupped her sex. Shaking, she waited for Ruuga to say something. Anything. Even if it were to berate her, she would deal with it. She only wanted to gather her clothes and run home. Not to her apartment. Beloit, Kansas.

 

[Verse]

She fidgeted. She would be worming herself if she knew. She took the name, real sweet. Ah, she knew how to behave, at least. Good. She was the one asking for a favor, after all. Didn't even say her piece, when he paper-cut it with the flying bill. Like it was honey and she was fresh out of a hive. Aphrodisiac to these little girls. Her head and heart was filled up with it, the possibilities, and it made the meal taste better to him. This was her whole life, and to him it was entertainment. He soaked in her desperation from it, and then her conflict when he named his price. The interest of this loan. His toes rolled inside his lacquered shoes as he waited. This was pleasant, wasn't it? Little Kansas was weighing her sensibilities with her needs.

His eyebrows raised when she rejected it. It was pretty to see all her emotions and at least he got a view of her ass, leaving. He laughed to himself and went into the rest of the meat when she was gone. Oh, this might cost her more than she thought. Good for her, though. He was mostly done with it when she came back. Ah, that was a good expression after she had been so proud of herself. His head tilted like 'oh?' when she placed herself where she had been, when she had chosen her integrity over her greed. He licked the corner of his mouth and inhaled through his nose. That was it, though, they never walked out on Ruuga twice. It had taken courage just coming back, hadn't it?

He'd wiped his fingers and was now swirling the whiskey in the glass. Her emotional turmoil was fresh on her breaths, and she made this better than if she'd been grinning wide and shoving her pussy in his face. Now this was the kind of performance he couldn't buy, though he had. No words, just her distress, just the marks that would stay in her heart forever. He hadn't touched her, and he'd still live in her until she died.

He grunted with approval when her bra saw the dim, smoky light. It was making him hard. The way her makeup melted on her already beautiful face was perfect. What a picture she was. For the scene, she begged, one word, but he didn't have to reject her now. She forced herself for him. This was all the good things she believed in, being stripped off her with the cheap cotton. He was unwavering in his fixation on her, and still he made it casual, drinking and sighing. Her slender frame was healthy, but it seemed she hadn't been eating well. That was the kind of unmeant confessions he liked to see. Truths they didn't want to be known.

She let him see the pretty orbs she kept a secret, as a woman. Made a noise like him looking hurt her physically. Didn't his amusement make up for it? Pink buds. Pretty.

Down to her last layers, it became even better. Like it mattered now. He chuckled when she sobbed and raised his brow like he was pandering to a child when she had her little fit. He touched the tip of his tongue to the back of his teeth when she forced herself through it. And then there she was, undone by her own hands. He stood up when she hid herself behind her hands, best she could. It was refreshing to see a girl who wasn't clean shaven down there, for once. He was by her soon, sans glass. This would be the first time she's see him standing. She was little thing, in front of him.

He grabbed hold of her chin, it was wet with her tears and snot and drool. She was gorgeous with her face in a mess. He'd not even practiced violence on her yet, and look at the state she was in. He nodded to her hands. "Let me see, Kansas." he ordered and dug his fingers in deeper. She'd let him see, they always did. "Mh." he muttered when he made her look up at him as he pawed her with his other hand. They weren't a handfuls, not in his hands. Firm, possessive grab, and a sadistic pinch on the nipple. He was eager to see her reaction to that. Strung-tight gals had a propensity for sensitivity, there.

"You're not bad, but you were never going to the top with this body." he said and finally tossed her jaw like he was rejecting her. He was still playing with her tit, though. The other hand cupped her pussy with her tears. Made a point out of combing through her hair. His digits at her breast glommed all of it firmly, mashing the nipple in his palm. "Take me out." he said, and the limb that would spring if she did what was best for her would be a hulking piece of meat, with a dark head and grotesquely built length. Ugly, but full of use. Of course, she could chose not to see it, and discover what the penalty for another rejection would be.

"On your knees, Kansas." he suggested.

 

[SithRebel]

Robyn thought or maybe hoped she would melt away into nothing or die of shame on the spot. No such luck. She shivered, though thankfully, the room was warm, or was that the heat of embarrassment? Nothing in Robyn's life prepared her for such a violation – forced to put herself on display for a man's pleasure. In high school, she read about slaves lined up and sold. Prospective masters would inspect their bodies and teeth. Oral hygiene was an indication of general good health. The ordeal of a slave wasn't something Robyn had ever pondered, but it suddenly stabbed at her mind. She felt shame for not caring more for the slaves of 100 years past. A chuckle almost erupted from her lips at the absurd notion. The crazy things that come to mind in moments of distress.

He stood to his feet, and the blonde fumbled backward. As he walked toward her, she panicked, desperate to flee. She would run down the street naked if she could. Why didn't she? She should move. "Move," she screamed to herself. Her feet were rooted to the floor in fear. Footsteps crossed the floor in her direction. His mannerisms showed no menace, yet she shook even more. A hand took her jaw. Ruuga's fingers held her chin tight as a vice grip, perusing over her as if she had a price tag underneath. Her face squirmed in his grasp. Joe's words slithered through her ears.

Anything he wants.

Her breast. He grabbed her breast. A line was crossed without ceremony. How often had boys back home tried to steal a peek of the girl's tit? Dozens? Even a side-boob gander would fuel a week of masturbation for half the class of Beloit City High.

A tingle shot from her nipple while he toyed with the digit. Fresh tears trickled down her face, mingling with the makeup and mucus. She was ugly-crying, her body hitching, her breasts bouncing, and her face contorted in a messy display. The entire affair was surreal. So much so that she almost convinced herself she was in a nightmare. Just pinch herself, and she'd wake up in her dingy apartment. But, no, this was real, and it was only the start.

He rubbed and groped her, pinching her nipple hard. Robyn squealed, trying to pull out of his grasp. She twisted and squirmed, struggling against his iron grip. Pulling back, she tried to use her weight for leverage and break away. His voice was subdued, like he was sizing up a new suit, but his demand was plain. He wanted her to wriggle.

The vile words about her body slipped through his thick tongue. Top? Maybe as a child, she had dreams of stardom. But those fantasies were long gone. Not just today. He didn't destroy those dreams. Life hit her from behind and raped her like a whore. Robyn didn't want to be high and mighty. She only wanted to be free.

The line crossed earlier was hastily obliterated when his long fingers explored her sex. A gasp followed by a shudder born of disgust slipped through her lips. His fingers touched her there, the one place so many others longed to find. One in six women were sexually molested last year. It was her turn to be the one in six. Would she report it? Only 20% did. His hands cupped her breasts again, ordering her to "take him out." Robyn was more bewildered than horrified. Take him out where?

Ruuga wanted her on the floor. Now she got it. Robyn shook her head. "N-no…" She wouldn't do that. Not even her old boyfriend received that pleasure more than once. He guilted her into a blowjob. The taste was not what she expected. And when he came, poor Robyn had to puke. "I can't," she cried to her abuser. "I'll throw up." It was so casual like she was haggling for overtime. "We can… we can fuck," she said with a sour tone. "Just…get it over with. Please."

 

[Verse]

He recognized her ire when he came closer, fully grown from the seat. It was cerebral, their need to run. Where would she go, naked and weak? She'd do more damage to her image than staying in here all day, worshipping his cock. Some girls delighted in the thrill that something dark came for them, and could kill them. Robyn didn't know that flavor yet. Maybe she never would. Maybe she'd always be this delicious fawn, that he got to wreck, just because she needed his gold. His own primal inclinations had him hunch a bit, like he'd spring and take her down. But he'd done this enough times to reel that base thinking in. She was caught in it, all the things her body wanted, but her brain and bruised heart knew they hadn't done this for nothing. Those reasons remained, and made anchors she couldn't pull from. He had fettered her because girls like her were worth nothing in New City.

She let him take her face, and he watched it for its details and well displayed horror. She cried for him and he drank it up. She was giving him everything, more naked than her lack of clothes. Not even her parents had seen their grown daughter this honest. She may never have cried like this before in life. He liked to have that. Liked the exclusivity of it. Others may fuck her, maybe, but they'd never get this. They'd never posses her as fully as he did in this moment. But she did explode into motion. He gripped her face tighter and hurt her breast with his examination of it. She'd been sensitive. Like some kind of action button on a doll.

She didn't get away. He took her pussy too. It was a good pedigree snatch. He felt it up and massaged it to know it.

And then she protested. And didn't do what he said. She was something stupid masquerading as something worth while. Strange tactic, she had, though. "You sure?" Fuck? She'd kick herself for giving that up later. "Guys like me we just fight or fuck, baby. What if you're not good? And don't you want it wet before?" he mused. It was pretty good foreplay, as far as he was concerned. He wanted that melting face on his cock though. He wanted to see her thoughts as it happened to her.

"Well, alright, Beloit." he said with a casual shrug, like he wasn't taking piece of her heart away today. She'd offered, and he wasn't above taking a beautiful woman's gifts to him. He let go of her fully, and went to the table and pulled a chair to the middle of the room, under the lamp in the ceiling. Fancy thing, subtle light, but it'd still look better coming right from over her head. It would give him a good view. Jai sat down and crossed his arms, legs spread and the bulge was gargantuan, on its own, good height on the hill and spread on the black pants.

He looked at the girl by the door. She was perfectly shrunken into herself. She wouldn't recover from this and that made a pearl of precum crush itself from his cock slit to the expensive briefs. "You wanna fuck me instead of having a taste first? Damn, girl, you're damaged." he mocked and then settled in. Which calmed his posture and again underlined the monster he was, sitting there naturally, waiting for her to do this abhorrent thing to herself.

He uncrossed his arms and slapped his knees. "You still gotta take it out, darling." he reminded her. And if she did come close enough, with all the hesitance she saw in her, as soon as she was within range, he'd grab her by the hair and pulled her down on her knees anyway. He'd just wanna see her in that pose. And, if she did take him out, if she knew what she would have to do eventually, he'd still mash her face against the stupendous limb she freed. Getting her tears and snot and drool all over it.

 

[SithRebel]

He sat in the middle of the room, the dim light overhead. Robyn watched as Ruuga made himself comfortable and shuddered at his bulge. Could she take that? Her old boyfriend was no slouch. They fucked maybe six or seven times. She lost count after four. Filling her up hurt at first, but the blonde quickly loved it. Plus, her beau was a thoughtful boy. He let her set the pace. His consideration wasn't generous. Not in the least. Robyn was one of the prettiest girls at the school. If he got to lay back and let her fuck him, then all the better.

This was not high school, and Robyn wasn't the prettiest girl anymore. Especially now. Her face was a mess of blubber and makeup. Naked and trembling, Robyn reached out toward the vile man. Her hand flinched a few times like a cat pawing at a new toy, uncertain if it meant her harm. Unlike the proverbial cat, the blonde knew this bastard meant to hurt her. By the look of his face, he got off on it. Tucking her blonde hair behind her ears, Robyn bent over, her breasts hanging down for his amusement. Fumbling at his zipper, she could feel the meaty, hardened member inside.

Robyn regretted her choice immediately. Fuck him? No. Ruuga's mockery shamed her further. Of course, fucking him was far more demented than a blow job, but she could see no other alternative. The idea of a cock in her mouth brought waves of nausea to her stomach. What if she threw up on him? That wasn't a possibility, but a sure thing. She hated the taste of cum. The salty, bitter taste brought nightmares to the forefront. Once, long ago, Robyn and a friend snuck into a porn shop. This establishment wasn't a showroom for the latest sex toys. No. They had to find the dirtiest place within a 30-mile radius. The smell of old seamen hit Robyn so hard upon entry that her eyes watered. Her girlfriend didn't much like it either. The two were gone within five minutes, vowing never to return to such a place.

But there she was, about to surpass that wretched hive's stench. Her heart beating to the surreal moment, Robyn touched his bulge. A hand job. She could do that. Her sweaty palm made uncertain strokes up and down the shaft. To her surprise, it grew larger. A disgusted sneer fell upon her face when she took hold of the zipper. Shuddering, trembling, a spot of snot dropped one single spot upon his trousers. Pulling the zipper down slowly a moment later, she said nothing. Robyn could feel the bulge freeing itself from his expensive briefs. She liked boxers better. Here, the blonde would have to dig the monster out. Turning away, Robyn inched her hand down his shorts, wriggling her fingers through pubic hair; the woman managed to grab his cock. The heat from his member pulsed in her palm. Sticking with sweat, she had to turn her head before springing the member to life.

Then suddenly, she felt a strong tug, and Robyn was on her knees, Ruuga's cock pressed against her face. It was ugly, gnarled, and dark. She had never seen a dick so disgusting. Precum oozed from the tip. Her lips curled and trembled as the member rubbed against her soft cheek—the hand job. Quickly, Robyn grabbed the shaft, gliding her fingers over the horrible thing. Cum smeared upon her hand and fingers. Robyn then looked away, still jerking him off. New tears streamed down her face, stinging her eyes.

"Please … why are you doing this?"

Did there have to be a reason? No, but Robyn needed some comfort that Ruuga knew he was a monster. Maybe she could turn him around? No. He was a monster and didn't care how much this hurt her. She began to sob again, her hand still stroking his shaft.

 

[Verse]

She showed all her humanity while he waited. She stood but she had no power. Pretty little thing, falling apart on her legs. He counted the seconds before her fear and misery had to let her go. He inhaled through his nose when she came to him, and watched those succulent orbs dangle for him, inviting him to hurt the nipples again, when she bowed. "Good choice." he rewarded but didn't want to break up her good pace. Something fell from her chin to his pants when she started on them. He liked how she looked at this situation with one kind of fear, and on the hill of his meat with another. Even now, she was feeding his ego with her anxiety. There really was no hope when girls like Robyn encountered monsters like himself. Her fingers looked small in their current task. He believed in her though. This was how she should have wanted to conquer this city from the beginning. She might do well.

He saw a new pallid on her at the thought of tasting him. Ah, she had a pretty long way to travel, if she thought her life her would pass without her tongue knowing, and soaking in, the taste of cock. He sucked air between his teeth when she petted him through the tailored layer and his underwear. She was exploring, however reluctantly, and her beautiful eyes, lined with red threads from her crying, held enough dismay that he felt like a behemoth. She was up for a surprise, even if it was going to be harrowing. He tended to ace and surpass expectations. He licked the edge of his teeth and stayed patient. For now, she got to go at her own pace. He was happy for her to have this present. He sighed with partial relief when the zipper came down, and held his breath in intervals when she finally had to interact with skin. A few of his pubes were pulled along when she dug inside, and he swallowed when her fingers got to grab on to his pride and joy. When they'd met, not long ago, she'd been smiling widely and fully dressed, with a few hopes still in her heart. She'd meant for him to be a salvation.

And then he got to play a bit. Her head was light, and her knees were naked. He grunted as he introduced the belly of his cock to the side of her face. She countered with jerking him after she had looked at the limb and been disgusted. He chuckled and then savored the touch. She looked perfect like this, distraught and disheveled, under him, ready and poised to be used. Why? "Because you have nothing else that's worth anything, Kansas." he said and looked at her with challenge. She would be hard pressed to convince him otherwise. If she had anything else, they wouldn't be here. There was a steady flow of precum for her, but the bulbous head pulsated in frustration.

The first clap came. It wasn't much. It was almost a love-tap, with the knuckle-side of his open hand. Enough to make her head turn, but she'd have to turn back if she wanted to please him. "Did I ASK for a handy?" he pressed. The same hand dismissed hers by pinching her thumb and prying it off and flicking it away. He grabbed hair on her scalp and his cock by its base. He pulled her close and started beating the reddening print on her cheek with the dick she'd been trying to please. It had been fat and sluggish, filling with blood before, but now it was showing off, hard and stiff.

"Hands down. Tongue out." his eyes were intently on hers. They were gorgeous inside the smearing rings of her makeup. "You've lost hand privileges." he decided. And if she did listen, he align her so her neck was stretched, and her legs were lifted and her knees were in, so his cock was under her exposed tongue. He pushed the cockhead at the underside of her tongue, folding it up as he pushed her head down, the saliva stroked belly of his cock rubbing against her nostril as it traveled her face. He moved her head up and down by the grip her had in her hair. "Now fucking suck it, whore." he cemented and let go of the base of his cock and her hair at the same time. He was amused by how he'd rendered her, but supposed if she was too dumb or 'deer in headlights' by all this, he'd have to take it out in actual violence on her cornfed body.

He might not mind that.

 

[SithRebel]

When Rugga suggested Robyn please him, she felt a protective globe of denial fold around her. This wasn't real. It was a dream. Someone would open the door and save her. Something would occur to keep the naïve blonde from such a fate. On her knees, yanking his cock with her hands, Robyn could pretend she was playing for time. Joe would come to his senses, run in, and beat the vile human within an inch of his life. Then, a backhand slap woke Robyn from her delusions. The surreality of the moment had passed for Robyn. She was in this. It was real. Her tunnel vision was gone.

The slap hurt her pride far more than her flesh, but it reminded her what kind of man he was and that something far worse might occur if she displeased him. Once again, hot tears ran down her already mussed face as Rugga slapped her repeatedly with his giant cock. This slap hurt, but the member's sound against her pink flesh made Robyn cringe. With precum slathered down the stiff prick, it made a schlepping sound combined with her tear-soaked cheek. Closing her eyes, Robyn turned away only a rough hand to bring her back in line, forced to stare at the cruel appendage.

Vice grip-like hands tore the blonde from her reluctance, forcing the cock into her face. She could smell the spew and feel the sticky wetness over her lips and nose. "Pl-pl-ease," she mouthed, though no sound emerged from her lips. His dick finally rested under her tongue. The terrified woman closed her eyes. This was going to happen. No one would help her.

Robyn's lips parted reluctantly. A line of white saliva wiggled between her upper and bottom teeth before it snapped as the woman's mouth opened wider. Nearing the dreaded monster, she closed her eyes. Maybe she could imagine she was in another place if she thought hard enough. Perhaps she was at the beach, playing volleyball with friends. The sea air smelled of salt. Robyn tried to fool herself that his precum was the low tide, but with such a distinctive, repulsive odor, the scent was burnt into her brain. Her parched tongue inched closer, finally touching the bulbous cock. Out of reflex, Robyn recoiled. Her face scrunched inward, looking like she had been punched.

"I – I can't!" she shouted. Oddly, part of Robyn wanted to suck him off to get this hell over, and because if she didn't, the blonde was certain Ruuga would beat her senseless. Before the man could punish her, Robyn gave in, grabbing the base of his cock, and leaning in. Her eyes closed, Robyn stuck her tongue out, tasting the precum on his throbbing head. Her face contorted. Cheeks flushed, and disgust washed over her features, yet she persisted. Once again, the girl on her knees allowed her lips to part, opening her mouth wide. Her eyes twisted shut, Robyn took the spongy head between her lips. The woman immediately spat out the member, hacking and heaving. Falling to her hands and knees, the pale blonde sobbed again as a haphazard prayer escaped her lips.

"Father … in heaven – thy Name and Kingdom come." The woman heaved again, sobbing as she did. "Thy will be done on earth, as in heaven." Robyn crawled into a ball, still mumbling the words.

"give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, The power, and the glory, Forever and ever and ever and ever ..."

A wail of epic magnitude erupted from Robyn's lungs. Someone was bound to have heard her cries. The wall could not be that soundproof.

 

[Verse]

Maybe he'd seen that dream in her blue eyes. It was good to take it from her with a slap. Even the strongest wills in the most annoying females could be rocked with some open handed violence. This yokel hadn't had much of a backbone to begin with, she'd returned on her own, after all, and succumbed to the pressure so much it had brought her to her knees in front of him. So the slap was plenty. A corrective tool he liked because of its efficiency. It was better to reprimand her with his cock though, and it had a good effect on her self-esteem, as he wanted. He liked lathering her with the pre that she had earned. It cost her soul something with every wet thunk to her face. Men like Ruuga lived to take things away from pretty girls with their cocks.

Her lips were tight and her plea was warm vibrations on his cockhead. He just had to wait for her to steel herself. There was even more built-up mess for her, by the time her mouth reached him. She was beautiful, fighting herself, and still touching his cock with her tongue. "There you go." he rewarded darkly. His mouth bent upward after her first sticky touch to his cock-tip. Ah, but the way she pulled back was rather rude. Maybe she realized the consequences of being less than courteous in this moment, and he gasped when she found her inner strength for him. This country girl was taking all her power and using it not for some life saving moment - not directly at least - and instead funneling it toward being his whore, in this room.

He let her struggle, and be stopped again by the taste of the fluids he produced. He thought he'd get it this time, and he did. A shallow take, and it warmed his cockhead. But then she reacted like she'd puke, and all her determination left her. He was about to beat her right there, for his amusement when her blowjob wouldn't give him any. But she gave him something else. The known words confessed more of her than she might have, sucking him off. This was a larger moment for the messed-up, naked girl. He listened to it, and it might have been reverence if his cock wasn't still menacing, hulking.

He did think she was giving him something worth the loan she wanted, now. Her distress was deep. Something was breaking in her. Something she sacrificed to him, unwittingly.

He sighed when it was over with her screech. He leaned down finally and gathered her wrists and sat her up on her knees again. His other hand reached to pinch her nose. His cock present at her lips, the ones which had called upon her god. Those petal limbs were fresh with pious, but they were flavored by his organ. Her fate stood over her with plenty of intent, and she couldn't move much, under him. He was endless, looking down.

And when she had to breathe, opening her mouth for it, he'd finally push forward to pry her mouth open. The hand formerly at her nose would cup the back of her head, her hands still held up by the other. And then he'd push with his hips and pull her skull back with his cock. He didn't know how it'd feel, or if she could accommodate him. But he knew he wouldn't stop until her throat was bulging with his flesh. And he started moving her head back and forth with the meeting rocks of his hips, using the cartilage rings inside her throat for friction, but more than that letting himself look down at the woman who thought she could strip, lick his cock, and then be excused from sucking it.

"You're a star now, Kansas." he said, looking down calmly while he was almost applying a neck breaking velocity for her throatjob. It'd be dizzying on its own, even without her being choked.

 

[SithRebel]

A guppy swam up to a shark and asked him for a loan. The shark opened his mouth wide and said, "Sure, my office is just inside." It was a groaner of a joke told by Mr. Hawkins, Robin's economics teacher in high school, highlighting the dangers of predatory lending. She had a better allegory. A dumb waitress asked a sociopath for a loan and got raped, but there was no punchline—only tears and misery.

Her creamy white body glistened from sweat; the blonde was forced to her knees again. Ruuga's cock stood tall, its grotesque form looming over her. Two fingers pinched her nose, and a perverted game of chicken ensued. Robyn shut her mouth tight, hiding her lips. She could hold her breath for over a minute, but not forever. The darkly tan worm stared at her, looking like the creature from the movie with Timothée Chalamet and the badass spy lady from Mission: Impossible. Her face flushed as a tightening strained her chest. The word "Why" cycled through her mind as despair crept in. Why was he doing this? Why was she being punished? Why had God forsaken her? Robyn's cheeks reddened. Her throat began to burn. Ruuga kept his fingers clamped on her nose, depriving the girl of much-needed oxygen.

Then the strangest thing happened, mere seconds from the inevitable. Robyn had an epiphany. There was no God. There couldn't be. She was a fawn caught between a big cat's claws. Soon, the cat would rip into her flesh and devour her alive. It was a thing that happened every day – prey falling to a predator. The world was cruel, and the universe was uncaring. Her suffering meant nothing. She almost wished he would just kill her.

Robyn gasped deeply, moving the much-needed air into her lungs. Like a snake waiting to strike, the cock was stuffed into her mouth. That which she feared the most was happening.

There was no gentle entry. The cock was thrust passed her lips, over her tongue, and violently shoved passed her uvula and down her throat. So quickly was the violation conceived that Robyn bore a delayed reaction. Her eyes bulged first. Then she flailed wildly, beating on the floor, on her rapist's legs, anything to offset the pain ripping her soft throat.

The taste was horrible, salty, and bitter with the added tang of his slippery cock. The bulk choked her, far worse than she expected. This was not some piece of supper accidentally slipping the wrong way. This cock was a monster, determined to chock her to death. And for a few seconds, Robyn worried this would be the end.

"How did she … did she –"

Her mother would not be able to form the words upon identification. Her father would grow sick, blaming her as much as her rapist for his daughter's demise.

Soon, all manner of thought faded away for Robyn. Jackhammered by the cock she had become a hole for the monster, Ruuga. She tried to scream while hot, salty tears poured down her face. The only noise from her mouth was a sickening "flap" sound, wet and pounding. Robyn's throat screamed with hot pain as the cock rammed in her mouth, again and again, her head stuck on a piston of incredible velocity. How long would this last? Until the evil Ruuga came. Even then, would this horror end? Robyn hoped he would be satisfied with her mouth alone.

Frightened thoughts chipped within her brain, barely tangible through the savagery. Stinging from the tears, her eyes opened momentarily, looking up at her abuser, begging for mercy that she was certain would not come.

 

[Verse]

It was a charged stillness between them. She was fighting for whatever modesty or pride she thought she was entitled to. But she was owed nothing when she came to him, asking for his money. How funny she looked, trying not to breathe when maybe some other struggle would have been more efficient. Though nothing she could do could have stopped him from preying on her. She had locked herself into this. Her pretty nose was easy to hold, and her dignity was even easier to crumble. The perfect structure of her face sat right there, below his cock, something that thrived on its ugliness. He appreciated the unbalance. She had all this beauty, but because he was hideous, he could take it from her, have her beauty do all kinds of sordid bidding. The wait was nothing to him. He was comfortable, standing there, admiring the way his erected flesh towered over her head. She was one whole person, and she couldn't even fight his cock.

He thought he saw some strange clarity in her just before her boiling, desperate gasp whistled under his cock, and he was allowed to pry her oxygen starved mouth open. He groaned with satisfaction at the feel of sliding into where he belonged. He held on to the back of her head and she was so shocked he was almost surprised by how long it took before she used her arms. The motion only became friction, which became pleasure for the perpetrator. His dick vibrated with her useless vocal chords. It was a melody he liked listening to. She understood the pain of being fucked down your esophagus now. Pretty girl like her should have learned already.

He played with her after that, the way he wanted. Easy thing to put her head at a pace, and her throat like a sleeve around him. He tested different angles and depths. Made her nose familiar with his pubes. The feel of her forehead against the low of his stomach. His cock quaked in its flexing to adjust to the taut environment and excitement to have become a weapon. He was pulling out chunks of her hair, but she was young, she had plenty.

He saw her pain, and he looked for it. He controlled, after all. Soon she was indeed treated like an object, for him to chase his favorite feeling with. It wasn't his orgasm, but her misery. She gave it well. She didn't even know to withhold it. This session was already earning her squeezes of precum into her defenseless stomach. She was hot from her former anger, and frantic from her well-chosen fear. He grunted with delight to violate her singing hole.

And then, when she gave him that precious look, up at him, which was any man's desire, he finally had her stop. His fingers dug into her scalp to keep her there, her chin dividing his balls in his sack, so he could look down into her eyesockets, like she was a dog. She was getting it. Her arms were of no consequence. There was only him, if that's what he wanted. She could only beg.

And it'd feel like she got it, when he finally pulled her off and let her collapse under him. She got to cough or do whatever girls like to do when they've had their lungs fucked. She'd retreat into herself, or she'd go wild at him. Either way she had some time to decide, or let her instinct decide for her.

It'd end up with a sudden burst of speed from him. A flattening of her back to the floor, and him parting her legs and lay down between them. She made his cock hard, but everything else about this situation was easy for him. She had nothing, so she'd come to him for something. Meant he could do anything to her.

Stuck her cunt without a hitch. Didn't matter if she was tinder-dry. She'd left enough of her fluids on his cock that he could pierce her. How would a waitress from Kansas Beloit feel? He'd put it in as far as he'd go. Reflexive tensing be damned. And if she had pretenses of anything else, he slapped his hand over her throat, and squeezed to keep her in place. Lifted her by it and dunked her head on the floor once. His other hand flattened on the floor beside her shoulder, so he had leverage.

And then he lifted his hips again, until her pussy was bulging, about to pop his cockhead out. And then he stuffed her deeply with it again. He started thrusting into her harshly.

 

[SithRebel]

When Robyn couldn't get out of church on Sundays, she would yawn as the pastor preached the evil things men would do. Lying, cheating, idolatry, immodesty. He never spoke on adultery or coveting the wife of thy neighbor. Back three years ago, the pastor divorced his wife of 12 years. In a tearful plea for mercy and forgiveness, he confessed the sin of adultery. The congregation forgave him, and donations increased for six months. The rumor was he had found a much younger girl, nearly the same age as Robyn at 16, to help with chores in the church and at his parsonage. Tasks that would linger on until the dead of night. People kept quiet about the pastor because he would visit the sick and shut-in and was on the town council. The story's moral was that he had power and, thus, could do anything. He was probably on to some other young thing by now, as the whole town of Beloit turned a blind eye.

Robyn coughed and heaved, her face burning with redness. Her throat throbbed with piercing pain, a feeling she had never experienced before. It differed from her childhood sore throat, but it hurt like a screaming fit. Her head throbbed, and her ears felt stuffed, which she barely noticed. Snot rained onto the floor from her nostrils, partly from the throat fuck, but mainly from the tears.

Her body ached to the point of nausea. Blue eyes stared at the floor, knowing her rapist was still there. Was the monster gloating? Would he find mercy and leave her to collect herself? Robyn heaved again, threatening to vomit the precum that had found her stomach. Despair, rage, fear, and emptiness sat within her. Robyn felt she should respond to this violation with a swift kick to his groin. She lacked the strength or courage to carry out that instinct. She hoped, naively, that Ruuga had his fill of evil and started to rise, ensuring that her eyes would not lay sight upon his disgusting form.

The broken waitress started to crawl away, reaching for her clothes, and suddenly, she was on her back in one single movement. The wind knocked out of her, and the blonde was disoriented as a sudden look of questioning and terror splashed on her face. Then he spread her legs.

"No!" she cried, but he did not hesitate.

As the horror of that event would later replay in her mind, she would recall the calmness on his face. As her legs were forced apart, he could have opened a drawer to find a lost set of keys. Maybe opening the fridge for a late-night snack. Or a car door, bound for another day at work. Robyn closed her eyes. She could see the weeping pastor in her mind, praying for forgiveness. As Ruuga shoved his cock inside her, Robyn knew this was not offending him. Lord help her; she was wrong about the wolf and hare comparison. That implied need and desire. This man did not need to hurt. He only wanted to see her suffer.

Robyn let out an ear-piercing scream as chunks of her hair were ripped from her scalp. Thrusting his gnarled member through her silky, warm hole wasn't enough. She had to give him more of herself than was possible. He would take it anyway. As the realization hit her, a thought penetrated through her tortured spirit. Robyn let her head fall and allowed him to fuck her. She made no attempts to stop him. She cried as his cock ravaged her. But, all care went out of her body and mind. She was no longer in the room. Her body was an unattached limb reacting to stimuli. Robyn was on a break.

 

[Verse]

She cried well. All the fluids she was giving him and none of them were the ones that would help her. Sure, they were lovely, spoke of her humanity, when he would give her none. He waited like a sure predator, covering the cave mouth with his body, while prey was inside, limping. Pretty country girl, made not so much so anymore, by his cock. She had let it beat her, defeat her. And while it was the most precious, it was not the foremost dangerous limb on him. Though it had ruined lives, too, in ways that his hands and feet and even teeth couldn't. He would be happy so show her more. And then she breathed like there might be a spark in her, she was hindered, dampened, by those fluids. Maybe somewhere in Robyn she understood her role. But it was the illogical, old parts of her that made her try to get away. If she knew all of him, she would have submitted. She would have tried to like it. She would never be rid of him now, even when he wasn't with her, he'd be inside her. That's why he loved to violate them. It made him immortal in their hearts.

So he hunted her. A little sprint and then she was his. It could not have ended any other way. She was so witless she let it happen. Not like she had a choice or a chance. Pretty blonde thing with her black tears from her cheap makeup. So undone beneath him. His cock was already hard, it had already been introduced to the sweetness of her suffering. She'd not put up enough of a fight to deter him. Most only managed to whet his apatite, anyway. It was her destiny now, to encounter him as he meant to be, every moment of the day. Suits and expensive things, all hiding this monster, that was hers for as long as he'd give it.

There was a giving up in the way she let it happen. Not her body to him, but something deeper. He took it. With her legs apart, there was nothing saying he shouldn't. Ruuga introduced Robyn to the harshness of the reality she'd put herself in, by asking for his hard earned money. No didn't meant anything between men like him, and new whores like herself. She acknowledged his tearing of her hair and then she let it happen. "That's a good girl." he let the whisper follow her into her escape. He held on to her and thrust hard, either her cervix would stop him or her hips would, either way it'd be hard impacts, rough rammings. Would her detachment hold when he got going?

He huffed, animalistic and short, with the speed of his pumps. He looked down between them and savored the view of her pussy having to choke on the flesh her mouth had started to eat, unsuccessfully. He thought Kansas had a nice pussy, how it stretched around his girth, and was inflamed because of the activity. Better let the out of towner feel she was welcome. And she was. Only not as the woman with dreams in her head. But rather this, a body, plain and simple, though prettier than some. His teeth came together as he steeled himself to break her further, having her wild hair and small breasts wave in the kinetic energy of his fucking.

And she did have a nice inside. He grunted to let her know, as though he was eating, and she'd served up a good morsel. His cock was greedily memorizing her pink tunnel even as he was rearranging it. "Up." he muttered and leaned back, grabbing her waist to bring her along. With her legs around him, he could start bouncing her as he sat on the floor, and look at her as she was a ragdoll, spasming by his whims. He was chasing something for himself, in her belly. Lying down, he could thrust up into her as he kept her at a certain height by his grip. Hurried hips got him there soon, and he inseminated her with plenty of himself, gasping in delight, finally, though the sound had no compliment in it, only self congratulatory bloat.

He tossed her off. His cock flopped when it was dislodged from her womanhood, and he stood, looking down. "Now clean me up and I'll let you go." he offered, hands on his own hips, and with every intention of being true to that promise, at least. The waiting cock bowed slightly, and had other traces of her on it now than before.

 

[SithRebel]

Even though Robyn had surrendered, her body still hurt. She lay on the floor, his gnarled and dark cock relentlessly feeding on her hole. He took what he wanted, pounding on her cervix. His stiff, rigid member was like a hot iron inside her. She screamed and flailed like a bug upside down, programmed only to react. The fight was wrung out of her, but he took more. Always more.

Robyn wanted to die. Not from the pain or humiliation but from the knowledge that this demon fucking her was immortal. As long as she lived, so would he.

He was every nightmare she had ever dreamed of. He was the monster under her bed, the creature in her closet. He was burned into her world now. A high school Robyn would find him waiting for her at the dance and rip the pretty dress off her body, defiling her in front of the class. Her first kiss ever was with him now. His hands slid down her panties in the backseat of Roddy McCrady's car. But this time, she would not stop him. There would be no nervous fumbling. Her panties would come off to display like a trophy. Her sex would know pleasure and pain long before she planned

And years from now, he would witness her first kiss with her future husband. He'd watch her have sex with her new man for the first time and later have front-row seats for the consummation of their first child. He would deliver that child, claiming it as his own as a latter-day Rumpelstiltskin.

Ruuga would be with Robyn for the rest of her life. He'd demand she suck his cock on her deathbed and kick her in the teeth for being an old hag, useless and worn. And if there were anything after this life, he would be there waiting. They would relive this moment for eternity. Knowing she shouldn't, she would ask for the money, and he would start with his casual smirk.

Then, a horrible reality struck her. There would be no husband to kiss. No child to birth. He took that away. Like a little girl, she would lie curled in a bed and cry as the monster slept peacefully by her side. That would be her life. Her future. No, he would not haunt her like a ghost. He was now her spouse, a twisted reminder of the world's harsh realities. He'd sleep with her, shower with her, watch her on the toilet. He'd pick her clothes and fondle her panties and bras. They would carry his scent.

She was dead now. Dead inside. People would talk about her and wonder. "What happened to that girl? She used to smile so much. Now, she looks – you'd think she lost an arm or a leg." She did lose something. Herself. But she'd never say why. Doctors would diagnose her with depression and prescribe SSRIs. She'd throw them away. And on her last day on earth, she'd sit in a bathtub, hearing him laugh at the intolerable cliché while she slid a pristine razor across her wrist. She could see it as he fucked her. Her white, lifeless body lay in a tub of bloody water. She hoped it would be one of those old tubs with the claws for legs. That's all she wanted at the moment, though Robyn knew, even in that small wish, she yearned for too much.

He finished. She looked upward as he stood above her so casually. The cock was wet with cum, and her juices. She crawled up to the member and took it into her mouth. She could taste a trace of blood. Her lips slid across the cock, taking in every inch. Robyn gagged as the head hit the back of her throat.

The woman's lips tugged down Ruuga's long shaft, feeling the skin quiver, allowing her tongue to press against the man's veins. The cockhead, Robyn, let tickle her throat, threatening to take it deep but never allowing him that pleasure. At this moment, her teary eyes closed. Robyn lost herself, and her fingers weighed the man's ball sack. Squeezing each testicle gently, Cormick sucked on the cock harder and faster. "Mmmp, mmmp, mmmp, mmmp!" Robyn sucked the shaft enthusiastically, hoping Rugga would cum soon and all this would end.

Though she did not stop, Cormick varied her tactics, letting her tongue glide down the shaft to taste those creamy balls. The smell of his man's musk filled her nose as she jostled the balls with her tongue. Robyn wrapped her lips around the head, sliding back up the shaft, lashing the tender glans with her hot, swishing tongue.

Easing up, Robyn grabbed Ruuga's butt cheeks for leverage and swallowed the monster dick. She gagged initially but paced her thrusts, forcing the cockhead down her throat. Her lips gripped the shaft harder, tugging with nearly painful friction. By contrast, Robyn fingered the man's balls tenderly, sliding a finger onto his perineum.

Robyn sucked faster, allowing the cock to pull in and out of her mouth. Ruuga was close. She could feel it. Cormick gave the balls a gentle squeeze and painted the cockhead with her tongue, lashing the glans again until her lips sucked the shaft back in.

 

[Verse]

She'd had rather common reactions so far. And he'd enjoyed them. Thrusting into her now, testing her small body, and its recently unbroken surfaces, had been a normal delight for the monster who'd come here to feed. It was part of his hunting cycle, and she'd been wholly unprepared, and therefor perfect for it. But he'd fucked the fight out of her. She looked so lively for a while, before she gave in. The always looked so good when they lost.

And in that, Robyn was special. He felt it. The tension around his cock changed. The very texture of her cunt adjusted to him. Not to the sex her was giving her, but to being violated. She had turned herself perfect for it. Some girls, when they broke, became addicted to it. Their uprooted nerves were set back so that they could enjoy it, perverse as it may be. But Robyn the waitress from Beloit, Kansas, had twisted herself into something that was not fitted for hurt, even though it still hurt. The demeanor in her body turned. He saw it in her, felt it in her. Rewarding her for understanding, and for setting herself apart from the other things, he withdrew. Other girls had broken too. But Robyn broke special.

He already knew she'd be a new woman when he pulled out of her. If there had been any of the other girl left in her, who'd come in her with hopes of money out of his pocket, she wouldn't have been so obedient, despite her distress. He saw her respect his order, and how she finally had initiative. She'd cried taking off her clothes, now she wallowed in sucking hers and his remains off his cock. The very weapon that had killed part of her, ended her life up until this point. This girl was his. She'd always wear this aura of having been raped by him. And he loved her for it.

His cock had been the last meaningful milestone in her life.

She got to show her individually in how she sucked him off. He sighed when she gaged and the puff of air cooled the wet coat on his sensitive, sated member. He smiled quietly when she tended to his balls. He'd not told her that. She finally understood her function, and the futility of not submitting to her situation. He throat was tight. But he liked her gusto, now. A nod encouraged her. He let his jaw drop a little when she ate his balls and swayed with compliments to her. Even though her pussy had been the prize, the real show of subservience is how she sucked him.

She had not thoughts of getting away from this. She'd given herself to the task. She was making a mess of herself and crushing his cock with her mouth. She was challenging herself and her esophagus and it was lovely to look down on. Her face, make-up disastrous but pretty still, was his real triumph. Her fingers brought reactions to him, but her giving up herself was worth more to him. Soon the pressure built. She'd certainly earned it.

"You got it, Kansas." he announced, calm. But they both knew it'd be chased by calamity. She'd given him everything. And now he'd sign her.

The first course of seed would be dumped in her diligent mouth, which meant it was feeding-tube deposited into her throat. He'd show her the good wealth in off-white-gray she'd earned from him. And then he pulled hips back. She had control of the cock still, and he was curious as to what she'd do for the second portion of fat ropes her fall from grace had elicited. Would she lose control in a coughing fit and force him to grab his own dick to water her from above with his cum, or would she have the focus to push through, and make sure the hefty rest of the load would land somewhere good?

Either way it'd end up with his cock resting on her mess of a face, balls on the side of her mouth, ready for affectionate after-care if she was the kind, one eye obscured by the length. He sighed, satisfied. He always got what he wanted. He'd changed her. He'd done that with his cock. He nodded to the envelope on the table. "Why don't you kiss it goodbye, tuck it back in, and then take what you think you're worth and go? Leave your panties and don't clean up your face." he offered.

Of course, she'd have to pick the amount based on what she may be allowed to take. Though, with the set of her pretty eyes, and her new found lack of self-esteem, it might not be much, anyway. But he'd sure like to see it. And compare the gait of the whore walking out, to the hopeful, dreamful woman who'd first come in here.