>>12752595Your rapist bares his cock. Your nakedness next to his nakedness carries a tension with it. He hasn’t even penetrated you yet, but you have already been penetrated in spirit. His penis hasn’t even touched you physically, but your hole is already rehearsing the sensations, as if to decide whether or not to be contented or terrified by them. The mere presence of his penis looming over your vulva exerts a kind of telekinesis. You feel before feeling. Think before thinking. You’re a time traveler. The raw horror becomes, itself, a kind of ecstasy. Your brain is playing chess. You keep wondering what you did wrong. How many moves you would have to take back to prevent this eventuality. If only you had the foresight. If only you were smarter. Stronger. Faster.
Too late. You are prey. You are caught by the predator. The excitement and fear of being prey washes over you. He kneels and roughly grips your legs like handlebars as he yanks your pelvis towards him. His warm nuts collide with you, his erection standing tall over your clit. You can almost feel the tightness of his hard cock without even touching it. The skin of his rod looks strained and stretched by his pumping heart—his lustful heart that dreams of your rape. Every organ in his body has sacrificed a tithe of blood to make his penis just a little bit harder, so rich is his desire for your flesh. The purple head with its lone eye looks almost accusatory. A finger pointing at you. You are woman. You are an impostor. You look so much like a man, and yet, there can be no brotherhood with you. Only domination. Your nakedness proves it. Males tolerate you only because they plan on penetrating you. This male has skipped over the courtship rituals and gone straight to the penetration, as he believes is his right. After all, it’s your fault. He wants to feel warm, wet, tingly tightness around his tool, and you won’t let him. So he’s taking what he wants, and he wants you.