Page 18 of Depredation

I was explicitly here for his sexual gratification.

He never made me come because he wanted me to feel pleasure; he made me come to prove he had the power to do so.

Pressing my face into his chest, I focused on the feel of his cock moving in and out, rolling my hips to hurry him along and find my own release.

I moaned for him, purposely clenching my walls until he fucked me harder, and I no longer had to fake it.

The way we used one another was vile. I wanted to know how a man like him could lock a woman away and fuck her like an animal, even though she was filthy, even when the smell of piss and shit flowed into his lungs every time he breathed.

How he could fuck her even as she balanced herself in a small puddle of the same blood now coating his cock.

It was revolting.

I wondered when I started getting off on it.

Digging my nails in deeper, I spread my legs a little further to take in more of him. He grunted, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my heaving chest.

I was going to come. The climax hung just out of reach; I needed him to push me over the edge one last time.

“J,” I moaned as he brought me a little closer. When I finally went over, I said it again, feeling my legs quiver.

He pulled out and shoved me to my knees before I could fully come down. I knew from multiple previous experiences that he was irritated he hadn’t come yet.

“Suck it clean,” he said gruffly, hitting my face with his cock.

I hid a smile and wrapped my fingers around the sticky base, holding eye contact as I began to stroke him up and down slowly.

He pulsed against my palm, his smooth skin the warmest thing I ever got to touch anymore. I continued until pre-cum dribbled.

I opened my mouth, closing it around the head of his cock, tasting my come, blood, and juices on my tongue.

I lowered my head even more, beginning to suck him, slow but hard.

“Just like that,” he soughed, pushing me down even lower. He thrust his hips, hitting my gag reflex.

I relaxed my throat and tried to breathe, blinking the water from my eyes. Moving my hands up, I moved them over the back pockets on his slacks, going up to grip his ass. My heart sank when I felt no sign of my father’s hunting knife—only the faint outline of the key to the cell.

How could he carry it with him every single time but this?

He used it on me often.

I dropped my hands, cupping his balls and gripping him around his base more firmly before he could catch onto what I’d been searching for.

There was no way I could lift the key; I’d have to reach all the way inside the pocket. The knife had been big enough that I’d been confident I could grab it while he was preoccupied with my mouth.

Peering up at him through lowered lashes, I saw his head was tilted back slightly, and his eyes were closed.

He disgusted me.

The longer I stared, the more my pulse elevated. I could feel adrenaline begin to course through my body.

I wanted out.

I had to get out.

I knew he was close; his balls were beginning to tighten.

And I knew the cell door automatically locked when it was shut, unlocking from the outside.

I’d have to move fast regardless, but that would buy me some time.

I was doing this.

My nostrils flared as I sucked in a deep breath. I pulled my lips back as if I were baring my teeth, and then I bit down as hard as I could on his fleshy cock with a guttural growl. I dug my fingers into his balls and twisted as hard as I could.

He screamed, releasing his hold on my hair and shoving me off him. Something inside me was deeply satisfied by his pain.

He practically fell backward, grabbing himself with both hands.

Not waiting another second, I took off. I grabbed the cell door and slammed it shut on my way out like he’d done countless times before.

“Harper!” he yelled after me.

I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, taking the stairs two at a time.

The door opened with no resistance; I was so relieved I could have cried right then, but I wasn’t free yet.

I shut it behind me, turning the simple lock on the handle. The only way I could go was straight; the door had opened into a narrow hall.

Taking off again, I directly entered the main area of the place he was keeping me. The furniture was covered in clean white sheets, and the few windows were boarded up with plywood.

I saw one single, deep green door and charged for it. My fear that it may have the same locking mechanism as the cell was diminshed with the easy turn of the knob.

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