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Angel Corps [DonVoltonus and skittish_butterfly]

He smirked, watching her. With a loud bang and a flash, he fired the second barrel, this one loaded with duckshot. It wouldn't be enough to cause real damage, but it tore her hand up severly, making her drop the knife.
"Very threatening." He chuckled, reloading the shotgun. "Now why don't you just bend over, and maybe after fucking you I'll let you go."
 
Bikini stifled the shriek of pain and surprise as the second blast tore up her hand. The sound of the knife clattering on the floor was no surprise after that, her only surprise that when she looked down she had a hand left. It was bloodied and battered but still there. She tried to make a fist with it to beat him, but bending her broken fingers made her grimace and gasp in pain.

His chuckle infuriated her. Well, if he thought he had her defeated, the over-confident fool, use that against him then. "Ok,ok, you win, you miserable prick!" She bent down slowly and warily, the corner of her eye never leaving him for a second, tracking the exact point on his neck where she would kill him. Let him look at my ass, I want him to, she thought. Not like that of course -- the very thought made her want to heave -- no, distract yourself, go on, you know you want to. Her eyes lowered in surrender, she practically invited him to look.

She even turned herself so he would see the prize he'd think he'd won. That's it, big boy, that's it, think about fucking me nice and hard and deep -- forget that you just fucked my best friend little more than a couple hours ago before killing her and doing Lord knows what to her corpse, you sick freak! The thoughts powered her, but she made sure her body spoke to him only of compliance and feminine curves yielding to him

Until she swiveled ever so slightly, as if giving him a better angle to see the swell of her hips. Her legs were already conveniently bent the perfect amount, but only with the impression she was posing herself for him, trying to tease him and get him hard for the victory fuck he obviously had in mind. Instead, the fingers of her good hand brushed against her bloodied knife and then gripped it, the blood on the handle making it slippery but doing her best to hold it tight as she sprang from her crouch and launched herself at him. "Die you miserable bastard, die and suffer forever!" She flashed the knife in her good hand, bringing it in a shining arc of destruction right at his carotid.
 
He smirked, arm whipping out to catch her wrist. Another blast rang out, this one to the elbow of her arm, point blank, burning her flesh and neatly seperating the limb from it's owner. "Ah, poor girl, bringing a knife to a gun fight." He laughed, hitting her across the face with the still hot gun barrel, leaving two long burns on her cheek. He grabbed the back of her neck, shoving her into a table, knocking the wind from her and leaving her laying over it.
 
Bikini's scowling war cry turned into a defeated yelp of pain and despair at the following gunshot. It was excruciating, what he'd done. Not surprised at all, it was like he'd set her up, and now her knife clattered away on the floor, her arm practically blown clean off at the elbow, the wound raw and painful, the skin around it scorched.

She didn't even have time to calculate how much less time she'd have before the faster blood loss from her elbow disabled her. The gun barrel came up and across her face, smacking her so hard all she could see was red misery and the floor as she crumpled at his feet. Bikini hated the sound of her own whimpering, especially since she wasn't faking it for tactical advantage. It seemed he could hear it too, her weakness was real and he pounced on it.

Strong hand at her neck, gripping her and pulling her up like an angry headmaster dragging a naughty girl to his office, after he'd all but blown off half her arm and shot her in the gut. His taunt was stupid, but she was too weary from blood loss and her mind too confused from everything that had gone wrong to come back at him, being called a "poor girl" like she was some pathetic little wallflower victim the worst part. The hard wood of the table came up in her sight way too fast, and knocked her nearly senseless as he sent her sprawling face down across it.

She had time for two breaths, any more than that and he'd be on her already. It was like her mind was working on emergency power, her body in shock and turning off everything that would distract her from survival. The sound of his breath was behind her. She tracked him. She reached for the knife in its sheath on her thigh, only her arm didn't move. Only too late did her brain recover enough to realize only her left arm was functional, and that was gripping the table next to her face, trying to push herself back up. And her knife? That was gone too, on the other side of the room, dripping with her own blood, not his.

No weapon, no view of him, and little time before she was little more than a trauma patient waiting to die, she had nothing left but to lash out with her leg behind her, hoping her heel would catch him where her mind's tracking told her his most important bits would be.
 
He sidestepped the feeble kick, now right behind her, legs between hers, thick cock pressing against her as he pulled her panties aside.
"No use fighting it now." He thrust roughly into her. "Might as well enjoy your last few minutes, and be proud that you at least put up a fight. Princess damn near begged me to fuck her." He laughed.
 
Bikini howled with frustration as her back kick drew nothing but air, and then he was on her. Her body was shoved hard into the table from behind and his rough hands went straight for her panties. His legs were between hers, forcing her open and his fingers rudely groped her, snagging the material and pulling her panties aside to expose her, practically ripping them -- as if that mattered at all anymore.

She tried to straighten up her torso, pushing up with her one good arm, wincing and moaning from the pain in her gut and her ruined arm. His cock was hard and pressing against her between her legs. His words taunted her, telling her to enjoy it, promising this was how it ended for her this time. It just made her angry, her blood boiling but with no where to go, no weapon to launch at him, nothing left to save her. And his laugh as he pushed harder, so thick and hard and disgusting, it sent her over the edge. She threw her head back right at the sound of the laugh, not caring how much it hurt her, trying to give him one last reverse head butt right in the mouth, or maybe with any luck driving his nose back into his brain. "Don't you dare use her name, you son of a bitch!" Her yell was loud as she flung her head back, like the war cry of the outnumbered hoping to scare off overwhelming attacking forces, or at least die with dignity.

Bikini had almost nothing left, but there was no way this loser was going to have his way with her, not while she could still move.
 
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