Shaken
“It was even worse than him chasing me with the knife.I felt his teeth on my neck, biting, harder than any lover would, his fat knees pushing against mine, forcing my legs apart.Every instinct, every nerve in my body, screamed FIGHT HIM!But I didn’t.Rapists liked the fighting back. Control and violence were part of the turn-on. Before joining Vice, I’d talked to a dozen streetwalkers in preparation for my undercover work. They had an almost universal response when johns got too violent.Get the c...ontrol back.Obviously, I couldn’t get control by fighting someone bigger and stronger. So I did it by confusing him.Squeezing my eyes closed, fighting the urge to vomit, I made myself meet his clumsy kiss, pressing my lips to his. At the same time, I worked my free hand between our nude bodies, grasping him between the legs like I wanted him.Brotsky’s reaction was instantaneous, doing the same thing any man did when you grabbed his dumb-stick. He sighed, going lax. Then he kissed me back, his hand slipping around my waist, a guttural moan escaping his throat.That’s when I squeezed his balls with every intention of pulling them off.Brotsky’s groan became a high-pitched wail, and he wrapped his hand around my neck, cutting off my air, but in our little game, two balls beat one throat, and he let go and tried to roll off me, chopping at my wrists.I released him, rolling off the other side of the bed, grabbing my dress as I hit the floor, beelining into the bathroom and slamming and locking the door behind me.MoreLess
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