I see stars and taste something coppery with my tears, as I hear you forcefully say “QUIET” from behind me. I cry out, more a sob than anything, and I feel your hand strike my face again. You pull them down over my ass, down my thighs, and around my knees. You pull hard, breaking the zipper, and you yank my jeans down in violent pulls. While you straddle me from behind, sitting on my thighs, you push your other hand under me and pull open the button of my jeans. I feel your hand come down hard on the side of my face, slamming me against the ground, and holding it there. I immediately try to get up, onto my hands and knees to get away, but you’re on top of me before I have a chance. You push me onto the ground, and I land hard on my front.
I can taste myself on them as you push my hand deeper into my mouth, choking me. You pull your hand out of my pants and up to my face, forcing your fingers into my mouth. Your hand is aggressive, pushing hard to get deeper. You pull me against you even harder as you push your fingers up inside me, squeezing my throat, making me struggle for my breath. I feel your fingers entering me, hard, from below. You’re grabbing me hard, your strong fingers spreading me apart in my jeans and panties. Your hand is on my pussy, your fingers forcing themselves between my labia. Your hand leaves my chest and slides down my stomach, to the waist of my jeans, underneath, under the elastic of my panties, and down to where my legs meet. I feel your fingers tighten around my throat and I try to be silent again. You pinch my nipples between your thumb and finger, squeezing even harder, and I do cry out a little. My surprise, fear, and the strength of your grip keep my screams silent. It hurts and I want to yell, to scream, but your fingers are tight around my throat. You squeeze hard, twisting a little, the soft flesh of my breast filling your hand. Your other hand slides under my shirt and up to my breasts, pushing under my bra. I try my best to be quiet, but I can hear myself and I’m crying now, like listening to a stranger next to me. “Quiet” you whisper, squeezing harder to make your point. Your hand moves from my mouth to my neck, and you squeeze.
I try and wrestle myself free from you but you just hold me tighter, I struggle to breathe. I feel your hot breath against my neck, feel you taking in my scent…my hair, my perfume, my skin, my…fear. I try to wrench myself free but you hold me tight against your body, my cries muffled by your fingers. You’re bigger than me, and strong, and my efforts are futile. You grab me hard with your other hand across my chest holding my arms as I try and pull myself away from you. I’m surprised, startled, I try to say something, to call out, yell…but your strong hand is holding my face tight, clenching my cheeks, stopping my words from escaping. I don’t know you’re behind me until your hand is over my mouth.