Victim POV 7–Taking a Stab at It

It’s clear that he knows I’m on the make, but I don’t know how he knows it.

I mean, I am on the make.  I need dick and I’m dressed to get it.  The neon-red laces in my bright blue Puma kicks are the same shade as the t-shirt that covers my smooth, firm torso like a second skin.  The crotch of my tight, slutty low-rise jeans is partly unzipped; a sharp eye could easily detect that I’m free-balling underneath.

But this guy is on the other side of the street.  He’s standing under a streetlight, and I’m in the dark, so I don’t think he can see me well.  Still, he’s gripping the pronounced bulge in his groin and grinning at me in a way that make my dick pulse.

For some reason, it also makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but who cares?  He’s hot as fuck.

He looks like he’s a little older than me—late twenties, I’d say—and he’s got a rough, blue-collar look that really trips my trigger.  His fleece hoodie is thrown casually over a stained white t-shirt and torn jeans tucked into a pair of brown leather workboots, none of it concealing his heavily-muscled physique.  He looks like he could fuck me right into the ground, and that’s exactly what my aching fuckhole needs tonight.

He grins again and jerks his head to the right.  I look in that direction and see a battered pickup, at least fifteen years old, with a toolbox mounted across the bed.  He heads toward it and I cross the street, aiming for the truck as well.  I’m beginning to suspect the stud doesn’t have much money, but that’s ok.  This one can fuck me for free. 

By the time I reach the passenger door, he’s already inside, with the motor running.  The interior is littered with fast-food bags and soda bottles—and a few beer cans.  There’s a yeasty whiff on his breath but it’s barely noticeable over the aroma of mansweat and testosterone the dude gives off.  Fuck, I’ve got myself a real man.  I can’t wait to have his hog jammed up in me.

I tell him my name as he pulls out and heads for the highway.  He tells me to call him Ryan; we both know we’re lying, but who cares?  We’re both just looking for a quick, anonymous fuck.  I have no doubt his friends and co-workers don’t know he slips dudes the dick on the DL.

He proves me right when he exits the highway.  After a few twists and turns that get me lost, he pulls into the parking lot of a rundown hot-sheet motel that I’ve never heard of—and I thought I’d been banged in every hook-up joint in this entire town.

“Here,” he says, handing me a twenty, “Go get us a room.”  I get out and head for the office, leaving him in the truck.

The old broad in the office has hair dyed the shade of a new penny and a Marlboro dangling from her lower lip.  She glares sourly at me and raised an eyebrow but slides the key to room 18 across the counter without comment.  Holding it in my hand—my jeans are way too tight slip the huge fob into my pocket—I return to my straight-boy hookup.

With another of those erotic, evil grins, he snatches the key from my hand—fuck, I love a forceful man—and leads the way to the room.  He ushers me into the dark room, and as I head towards the bedside lamp, dimly seen in the ambient light reflected from the parking lot,  I hear metallic sounds behind me,  Turing on the light, I wheel around to see the stud sliding the chain lock on the door—he’s clearly already turned the deadbolt.

He responds to my questions glance with a smirk.  “Just making sure we aren’t disturbed.”

“Good idea,” I reply—and it is.  I step to the side and draw the dingy curtains over the dirty windows.  While I do so, my new fuckbuddy shrugs his hoodie off and tosses it onto the dresser, then peels the t-shirt up over his head, revealing a muscular, furry chest with jutting nipples and hairy, ripped abs that make me drool.  Before he can say a word, I kick off my sneakers, wriggle out of my jeans and shuck my shirt, leaving my sm

ooth young body nude before him.

He unzips his fly and slowly extracts what has to be the biggest cock I’ve ever seen.  I swear to God, it’s gotta be more than nine inches long and two thick, wrapped in huge, pulsating veins.

And for the first time in my life, I’m afraid of getting fucked.  That thing looks like it can seriously damage me.

“Hey, man,” I start, but something in his face stops me.

 His smile has always had an edge to it, but the one he gives me now has a malevolent glee that causes me fear.  And then he speaks…

“Hey, faggot,” he says, the ice in his voice freezing me to the core, “Are you ready?  Ready to get what a fucking homo like you deserves?”

This makes no sense.  I mean, I love it when a fucker talks to me like a real man, but there’s a ring of contempt, of downright hatred in his voice, that makes me quail.  Surely he can’t—

But he can.  He draws his arm back; it all seems to happen in slow motion.  I feel frozen, watching, but unable to move.  The bunching of his powerful bicep is mesmerizing; the inherent power must be phenomenal…

The blow comes before I even have time to flinch.  It connects with my flat, smooth belly, driving the air from my lungs and dropping me to my knees.

The pain is incredible.  Why?  Why is he doing this?  Does he think I won’t let him fuck me?  Is he afraid that I can somehow let someone know he likes dudes?  I don’t even know him; I can’t harm him—why?

I stare beseechingly up at him from my knees, trying to speak but barely even able to breathe, and I meet his eyes—oh, God, his eyes…

There’s a glint them that strikes terror in my heart.  I’ve never seen anything like it; it’s a combination of lust and psychosis that tells me that reason will be useless.  And that evil grin—

Oh my God, am I gonna get out of this alive?

He bends down and grabs a handful of my hair, jerking my upwards.  Fuck, I have to stand.  I can barely breathe, but I have to rise or he’ll rip my fucking scalp off.  He drags me back upright; what’s he doing?

Oh shit his fist—[WHAM]

fuck what happened why am I on the floor

He hit me again.  Christ, I didn’t know he could hit that hard—I bounced off the fucking wall.  My eye—my left eye aches; I can barely see outta it—but I can see well enough to watch him approach, leering, towering over me…

…oh fuck, his massive cock is oozing.  This is what he wants—this is what gets hm off.  Hurting me gets him off.  I gotta get the fuck outta here, now—

Shit, his boot, he’s swinging his foot—

OH FUCK THE PAIN I HEARD THE SNAP HE FUCKING BROKE MY RIBS

Steel toes fucking workboots must have steel toes the pain the stabbing pain in my side it hurts to breathe deep

What did he do?  What did this fucker do me?

He’s lifting his foot, holding it over my face—I can see gravel stuck in the worn tread; what’s he doing now—

AAGH FUCK MOTHERFUCKER STOMPED MY FUCKING FACE JESUS MY NOSE HE BROKE MY GODDAM NOSE

He’s laughing.  I’m in horrible pain, and he’s laughing at it—it’s a cold, cruel sound.  I gotta get outta here, this psychopath is gonna fucking kill me.

I roll over and start scrambling for the door.  Above and behind me, I hear a loud guffaw, almost a bark—

HOLY FUCK HE STOMPED MY BACK MY LUNGS I CAN’T FUCKING BREATHE

It hurts to breathe so bad; he must’ve driven a rib into my lung—the door.  I gotta make it to the door…

He’s still laughing as I reach the door.  Fuck, I can’t believe how scared I am—this was just supposed to be a quick, fun fuck, what the hell happened?  My fingers scramble at the lock, my fear and pain making me clumsy.

Jesus, he’s right behind me—

OH MY GOD THE PAIN THE COLD PAIN DEEP IN ME OH FUCK WHAT DID HE DO TO ME

A chuckle, and he speaks.  “Where ya tryin’ to go, asshole?  Ya wanted something shoved in ya, didntja, homo?  Now you got my blade in yer kidney.  Don’t worry, bitch, this one ain’t gonna kill ya—but we’re just gettin’ started.  Trust me, yer gonna be fuckin’ beggin’ for death before ya earn my hot load.”

He pulls me from the door—I have to move; he’s using the blade embedding in my back to steer me and move me.  He’s enjoying it, too.  I can feel his hard, dripping dick pressed against my back as his hot breath whispers in my ear.

“Just a fuckin’ meat puppet, aintcha, faggot?  Get on that bed before yer just meat.  Yer gonna take my cock, motherfucker, and anything else I wanna stick in ya.  Only reason yer alive is so I can have fun with ya—and my fun is making you suffer, cunt!”

Oh God no how did this happen, how did I end up here?  I just wanted some dick, please God, just some dick, don’t let me die here…I just wanted to get bred…

He stops me at the foot of the bed.  Fuck, he’s literally made me a puppet; I can feel the blade inside me…but it doesn’t seem to hurt as much…

OH JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK DID HE DO

Its out he jerked it out it hurt worse than going in oh God get me outta this please

He laughs and pushes me onto the bed.  I don’t want to move.  I don’t want to add to the damage this fucker has done…

He flips me on my back and climbs on top; my broken ribs are moving—I have a mental image of the jagged broken ends of the bones poking at my tender innards—but then he holds the knife in front of my face.

Oh my God, it’s huge.  It’s as long as his fucking cock and the cuttting edge is serrated wickedly.. It’s covered in blood.  Fuck—that’s my blood.

He’s whispering.  Christ, that light, that crazed light in his eyes…

“You know you want it, cunt,” he hisses, his glittering, pale-blue glare paralyzing me like a snake’s,  “Fuckin’ faggot like you’s just droolin’ to get somethin’ long and hard shoved deep in his homo guts, yeah?  Fuck yeah, man!”

He raises the blade—what’s he doing?  Oh fuck what is he—

OH GOD MY GUTS MY BELLY HE STUCK IT RIGHT IN MY BELLY OH JESUS NO THE PAIN THE FUCKING PAIN GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT

Grab it, Jesus, grab it and pull it out he’s fighting me [WHAM]

Oh God my face he hit me get it out keep fighting my arm he’s got my arm

FUCK MY ARM HE BROKE MY GODDAM ARM FUCK NO

My legs he’s pulling them apart no no FUCK NO THAT HORSE COCK SPLITTING ME OPEN AHH AAGH YOU’RE FUCKING TEARING ME APART

he’s in me his dick and his knife are both buried deep in my guts he’s mounting me like a bitch\

God that hard hairy chest those eyes all I want is to please you man—why?  Why?

I didn’t know I’d spoken, but he replied, “Because this is what you deserve, you cocksuckin’ whore—all you goddam fags need to die with a real man’s cock up yer ass.  You need to suffer, asshole, and I’m just the fucker to make you, ya fell me?  No?  Then try this! [WHAM WHAM WHAM]

my head motherfucker punches like a goddam steam piston—fuck, how many teeth did I lose?

This isn’t real.  The cheap polyester comforter scratching my back isn’t real, the heavy musk of his mansweat overlaid with the metallic scent of blood isn’t real.  None of this is happening…

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST HE’S PLOWING MY ASS EVERY THRUST MAKES THE KINFE IN MY BELLY JERK AND SLICE INTO MY GUTS STOP STOP ST—[WHAM, WHAM, WHAM]

ok I won’t scream just please don’t hit me no more please please my lips you split my lips I can’t see out my left eye

“Yer ass is loose, ya fuckin’ whore,” he sneers as he reams my hole mercilessly, “Guess you ain’t in enough pain yet to work my shaft like a good little pansy should, huh?  Don’t worry, asswipe, I can fix that!”

Huh?  Fuck no, not more, no please, oh shit—

HE’S TWISITING IT HE’S TWISTING THE BLADE I CAN FEEL IT IT’S SLICING MY INTESTINES OH GOD NO

It’s out his pulled it out—what’s he doing?  Where’s it going?

MY SIDE MY SIDE OH FUCK OH SHIT ITS IN ME HIS KNIFE HIS COCK THEY’RE IN ME TEARING ME OPEN

I wanted this I wanted him in me but not like this dear God not like this such a stud but not like this

Gotta get him off—he’s gonna kill me—gotta get him off—NOW!  Hit him!  Punch him!

Goddam, it’s like hitting marble—I knew those massive furry pecs were strong but my only working arm isn’t having any impact…

…oh shit, yes I am—he’s angry.  Oh my God the look on his face—what’s he gonna do now?

He bends close, the dark stubble on his cheek brushing mine.  The beer is still on his breath as he whispers in my ear, quietly, almost sensually,  “You really do like getting’ hurt, dontcha, faggot?  Yer just askin’ for it, aintcha?  Ok, you cocksuckin’ piece a’ shit, ya feel my blade in yer side?  I only stuck it in three inches…”

He pulls back and gently, lovingly kisses the tip of my nose.

Dude, I coulda been yours…I coulda made you so happy…

“I’m gonna fuckin’ impale yer liver, cunt, and it’s gonna hurt so—fuckin’—bad.  Try not to cum, ya fuckin’ pervert, har!”

OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK NOTHING HAS HURT THIS BAD I’M DYING THIS HAS GOTTA BE KILLING ME I CAN’T LIVE THROUGH THIS THE ICY PAIN SO DEEP INSIDE ME

“Aw, fuck yeah!” he crows triumphantly as he drills my fuckhole harder and faster, “That’s whatcha needed, huh, bitch?  Now yer working my cock like a good little homo!  Here, let’s keep it goin’—gonna carve yer liver like deli meat, motherfucker.  An’ don’t worry, I’ll waste yer useless ass long before ya bleed out from this little love bite.”

NO KILL ME NOW NO MORE PAIN PLEASE KILL ME NOW I CAN’T TAKE THIS END IT PLEASE FUCK PLEASE

I can’t speak but he can see the look in my face.  His lust and glee are unbearable…

I’m cold.  There’s a cold sweat oozing from my pores; my skin slides smoothly against his as he continues to brutally rape my torn, bleeding asshole.  But he’s still so hot, such a true alpha…no, don’t let it end, I don’t want to be in pain but I need him to breed me…

“You want it, dontcha, faggot?  You need the sperm of a real man shot up inside ya to make ya real, yeah?  You ain’t real, fucker.  Yer ass ain’t ever gonna be anything more than a cumrag for me to unload into and then dump like the piece of used-up trash it is.”

OH FUCK IT HURTS FUCK NO

Why does it hurt worse when he yanks the knife out of my tender flesh than when he sticks it in…

He holds it up and I can see pink strands caught in the serrations…oh Jesus, my guts, I’m looking at pieces of my guts…

“I’m gonna blow, cunt.  Gonna shoot up yer worthless fuckhole  Wanna know whatcha gotta do to get it?  You gotta die, motherfucker.  Only thing that’ll trip my trigger is the satisfaction of seein’ the light of life fade from the eyes of a dyin’ faggot.  Get ready, ya cumscukin’ pervert, cause this is gonna hurt like all fuck!”

What?!?  NO!  he’s holding the blade up, the powerful muscles in his arm tensing for the blow—“NO!  OH OGD, DON’T DO THIS PLEASE—AGGPHPTH!!!”

My throat my voicebox he jammed it into my voicebox I can taste my own blood I can’t scream I’m gurgling what is it what my own fucking blood I’m gargling my own blood no not happening not real

His shoulders I grab I clutch hold him don’t let him go don’t end like this

What is this pain in my crotch it hurts it hurts OH MY FUCKING GOD IT HURTS SO FUCKING BAD I’M CUMMING NO NO NO CAN’T BE NO I CAN’T NO NOT HAPPENING ITS SPEWING OVER HIS CHEST MATTING HIS FUR NO NO

dying i’m dying copper in my mouth my life draining from my cock JESUS THE KNIFE HE PULLED IT BACK OUT WHAT

MY CHEST MY HEART THE AGONY THE AGONY HE’S STABBED HIS BLADE INTO MY HEART

cold so cold

the rage and triumph in his eyes

the cold

no there’s warmth

deep inside there’s warmth

his seed he’s spilling his manseed inside me

hold it the cold is taking me hold onto the warmth

black and icy all is black and icy

2 thoughts on “Victim POV 7–Taking a Stab at It

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