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“That outfit is all wrong. I think tonight I want you to be a Catholic school girl. Yeah, I’m in the mood for some barely legal.” He chuckles as he moves back to the closet, emerging with a school uniform on a hanger. I try to move away as he approaches, but my body won’t obey.

His large hands flip me over. My face is pushed into the black leather of the sofa. I can feel him pulling down a zipper. His knuckles skim along my back and ass. I must be in a dress. My body feels stiff yet malleable as he roughly pulls the fabric down over my arms and off my hips. I want to cry but the tears won’t come. I can feel his hands on me again. Rough wool scratches my skin. He fumbles at my lower back. The fabric tightens around my waist. He must have put the school uniform skirt on me.

I’m flipped back over.

“Look at those tits. Seems a shame to cover them up. How about we leave the sh

irt open and tie it under your breasts. Just like the slut you are,” he sneers.

Grabbing me by the back of my head, he pushes me forward till I’m bent in half. I can feel him lifting my arms one at a time as he pulls the shirt up my arms and onto my shoulders. He pushes me back. I’m forced to lie prone as his hands cup my breasts.

I can feel everything.

The scrape from the calluses on his palms.

The press of his fingertips into my flesh.

The damp feel of his skin.

I can feel everything, yet I cannot move. Cannot defend myself. Cannot even cry out.

His hands fumble beneath my breasts. The fabric tightens around my ribcage.

“So, what should I call my slutty school girl tonight?” he asks, tilting his head to one side. “How about Catherine? That’s a good Catholic name.”

‘My name isn’t Catherine,’ I want to yell. It’s Jane. Jane Robinson. I live at 52 Merryweather Lane in Boston. I just graduated from high school and I was on my way to a party. I got into an accident. I’m supposed to be in a hospital. I want my parents. I want my mom.

Nothing. No reaction.

He doesn’t hear me.

He takes another swig from his beer before setting it aside. I watch helplessly as he unbuttons the fly of his jeans. His thick cock springs forward. The skin is a mottled red and purple as it becomes engorged with blood.

This can’t be happening. I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. All I know is I’m about to be raped by this stranger. The furthest I’d ever gone with my ex-boyfriend was second base and now I’m about to lose my virginity, and I can’t even beg him to stop.

“How about you get on your knees and suck my cock like a good girl?”

Once again, he lifts my motionless body. Manipulating my legs till I’m kneeling before the sofa, he takes a seat, straddling my shoulders. Fisting his cock, he licks his lips as he stares at my exposed breasts.

“Damn. Smartest thing I ever did was buy you. Fuck my frigid wife. This is just as good. Better because you can’t complain about choking or not wanting to swallow. Can you, my slut?”

I stare at him in horror. Buy me?

“That’s what I like. A silent woman who knows her place. On her knees with a cock in her mouth.”

His hips shift forward. The head of his cock pushes past my lips. I try to move my jaw, to clamp down on him with my teeth. Nothing happens. He presses further in. My tongue won’t move. There is nothing to prevent him from thrusting deeper. It is as if I am frozen. An inanimate object with an open hole for him to abuse.

“That’s it, bitch. Take it. Suck my cock,” he groans as his hand snakes around to the back of my head.

I want to scream in terror and frustration. Desperately I try to raise my arms, to bite down… to scream!

His thick cock chokes me as I feel the hard shaft press against the back of my throat. Nothing impedes his punishing thrusts. His hand on the back of my head holds me in place for his assault.

“You like this don’t you? You like being on your knees. Being my little slut,” he rasps.

I don’t! Stop! Stop! Please!

All I can smell is stale beer and leather. My throat burns. My knees begin to ache as they are pressed into the hard wooden floor. As I’m forced forward then back with the motion of his cock, my breasts keep sticking to the leather of the sofa. The room is silent save for his grunts and groans. With one final thrust, my nose smashes against his abdomen as he grips my head from behind, grinding my mouth down on his dick. A thick stream of cum fills my mouth. I want to vomit but can’t.