A lonesome young man wanders into a dark alley as his memories haunt him. A girl fleeing one predator finds herself finds that she jumped from the pan and into the fires of another's pent-up lust!
A Predator's Diary: Fruits of the Night
(M/f, bj, coercion, hardcore, rough sex)
Note: This story contains depictions of violence and sexual assault. The author does not condone such depictions in real life.
The night breeze brushed against me, pushing through the flaps of my jacket, reminding me that winter was not quite done with me yet. I should have been home an hour ago, snug in bed with a cup of coffee and the Instagram feeds of girls I could never hope to snag. Once the coffee ran out, I'd probably find a better use of my left hand as my imagination took those pretty little things down to the depths of depravity they would never have the privilege of experiencing. No, they would simply move from being sluts for digital attention to chaste brides, and then onto radiant mothers beaming with the fruits of the hard pounding that their sluttiness had earned them. But not my fruits, and not my fucking.
Before I could wallow further in the depths of self-pity, I realized that I had overshot the lane that would take me to my rat-infested den. A few steps further, and I would move out of the shanty in which I currently lived, and into the more "respectable" locality where, in all likelihood, some of those "influencers" were filming their hunger for cock. For reasons that I could not explain to myself, I did not turn back, but kept walking.
The houses changed from a mishmash of rundown shanties and half-plastered brick abominations to more conventional two and three storey houses. If I had ventured into the area during daytime, some suspicious security guard would have shooed me away. But the night was my friend, and the cool breeze made me want to explore the wider alleys of the locality before I returned.
With only my thoughts and the breeze to give me direction, I found myself in an unfamiliar part of the neighbourhood. The houses looked well-maintained, most with a car or two in front. Some had music or TV soaps blaring out of them, while others were dark, their inhabitants already on their way to some weekend getaway. One house stood out - a gleaming white mansion with three cars parked in front and uniformed police at the entrance. Unfamiliar as I was with the area, I instinctively recognized it as the home of our local councillor. His son had recently been in the news for the mysterious death of a college student and her friend. Rumour had it that she had been "removed" because she refused to abort, and her friend had to join her in the afterlife because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The girls' pictures had been pasted all over the media. They were pretty, and I thought it was a serious waste of cunt.
As I passed by the house, I picked up my pace. Clad in a threadbare jacket and unwashed jeans, my appearance could invite the wrong sort of attention from the grumpy police standing at the entrance. The house was at the end of the lane - beyond it, there was an old factory that had downed its shutters a long while ago. As I was approaching the end of the lane, I wondered for a moment if I should turn back or keep walking along the old factory wall that separated the houses from the factory premises.
The decision was made for me by two sounds that followed in quick succession. Behind me, I heard the roaring of a powerful car engine. One of the cars parked in front of the house was pulling out, and because the road was narrow, it had to reverse multiple times. Going back would mean getting stuck in the one-car traffic jam, right in front of the uninviting gazes of the policemen. As the car went through its motions, another, softer sound caught me by surprise. The councillor's house had its own high wall, which separated it from the narrow alley between it and the old factory wall. Hardly anybody used this lane, since it was too narrow for anything other than two-wheelers and there was nothing except high walls on either side.
Yet at that moment, I fancied a figure perched atop the house wall. He appeared to be facing the alley, apparently contemplating whether to jump down or go back. Time seemed to stand still as I watched the figure turn around and then jump. The silhouette landed with a thud that was drowned out in the sound of the car's engine. It attempted to stand up, but fell to its knees. Apparently, the jump had not been well-timed. The person was probably not a cat burglar, since those guys almost never hurt themselves.
Curious, I moved closer. The figure was too engrossed in checking on their injured leg to notice my approach. As I moved closer, I could make out that the silhouette, in fact, belonged to a female. A young one, I assumed, though I could still not make out the face. She did not turn in my direction, but instead began to walk - or rather limp - in the other direction. The alley would lead to a dead end, though there was one rusted side-gate to the factory that anyone hardly ever used. She probably didn't know this, and I could save her a long limp back to her starting point.
As I approached her, the car's sound began to die down. The night was eerily silent - just me and the mysterious female figure ahead of me. She probably heard my footsteps now, since she stopped and turned around. As I closed the distance, more details of the mysterious creature came to light. As I had guessed, she was quite young - probably no older than 20 years. A white crop top with infinitesimally thin straps covered what would be a shapely pair of tits. The top did nothing to hide her shapely waist. Completing the nubile image was a tight ass covered in a matching skirt that ended well above her knees, exposing almost all over her pretty legs.
As she turned around, I saw her face for the first time. Framed by hair that had been dyed a fiery red, she had gentle hazel eyes that were currently expressing a mixture of surprise, pain and fear. Her lips, painted an equally fiery red, were quivering as she tried to form words addressed to a stranger who did not belong to the posh world she inhabited.
"It's a dead end. You'd be better off turning around." My voice sounded high-pitched, almost unnaturally so. I didn't realize how nervous I was until I tried to speak. My words seemed to startle her, as if they had intruded on something I had no business commenting upon. She looked back at the dimly lit alley as it disappeared into the darkness, and then at me - a possible source of support, or a threat blocking her escape. Wordlessly, she turned away from me and began limping towards the dead-end again.
For a moment, I stood there in silence. As someone who had grown up in the environs, the thought of walking down the alley for anything except to get high or get a quick blowjob seemed ridiculous. It had been quite a while since I had got either, and the memories brought back a hunger I had not felt for some time. I called out to her again, but as her figure receded further from me, my words elicited no response. Baffled and a bit annoyed, I decided to leave her to her fate and turned around.
As I retraced my steps back to the end of the alley, my mind went back to the time when I had persuaded a classmate to accompany me. All I had intended was to chat and maybe get a kiss out of it all. Instead, she had become suspicious when the alley ended in an old wall, and accused me of misleading her. Before I could explain myself, she had slapped me and walked off. My face began to sting as the memory of the day returned. I didn't even remember the girl's face from all those years ago. But somehow, her face was replaced by that of my recent acquaintance in the alley. I should have caught hold of that bitchy classmate that day and taught her a lesson. The girl heading down the alley was of the same type, my mind told me. Arrogant and entitled.
Unconsciously, my feet stopped and I found myself turning around once more. Memories were now flooding my mind - the times that that bitch had insulted me, rejected me, embarrassed me in front of my friends. I walked faster, the night breeze egging me on. Before long, I could make out the silhouette of the girl again. She had found the old factory side-gate, and was engaged in a futile attempt to open it. Seeing me again, she seemed more receptive to my presence.
"Can you open this gate?" her voice was one of quiet desperation. It dawned on me that perhaps she was attempting to escape the councillor's house, and the alley had been a better alternative to crossing the front entrance. The question was - what was she escaping from?
The gate, as it turned out, was rusted shut. The bolt was jammed in place by years of neglect, and I doubted whether anyone without proper tools would achieve much. "It's rusted, probably jammed too. Not likely to budge." She looked at me with growing despair, and then went back to wrestling with the bolt. Her nails were painted bright pink, the same colour as my classmate's the day she had rebuffed me.
"Please....I can't go back that way. Please try to open it..." she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
Feeling a strange rage rising inside me, I chose to focus on the gate. Grabbing with both hands, I pulled as hard as I could. Initially, nothing happened. Then, there was the slightest of movement, followed by a deafening clang as the bolt was pulled straight out of its channel. I was stunned by my own strength, and we spent a moment admiring my handiwork. Then, without word, she opened the gate and went inside.
For all my anger and bitterness, I hesitated. The factory was old, and the local thugs occasionally used it to transact their unsavoury deals. It was also quite large, and while I had been inside while the factory had been functional, there was a good chance of getting lost. Unlike the mysterious girl, I could simply walk back and....
A female scream echoed from inside the factory. While I was pondering my predicament, she had disappeared from view. I turned on the flash of my phone and rushed in the direction of the scream, moving past rusting machinery and the smell of old lubricants. As I moved, a gentle sobbing caught my attention. Moving past a large industrial drum, I found the girl curled up, clutching her leg. Shielding herself from the harsh glare of the flash, she motioned towards her leg. I saw that the ankle was badly bruised. She couldn't run even if she wanted to.
I sat down beside her, and gently pushed her hand away from the bruised ankle. As I bent down to take a look, my gaze instead fixated on her tits, which were currently heaving as she sobbed. Up close, I could make out that they were at least a 34C, which would fit nicely in my hand. Perhaps realizing why I had stopped looking at her ankle, the girl covered her chest with one hand and tried to raise herself on the other. She almost got herself onto her feet before collapsing - this time onto my knee.
Perhaps she was trying to mumble an apology. Something inside me gave her no chance. My hands, which were in the process of stopping her fall, wrapped around her waist, pulling her towards me. I felt her ass settle on my lap, causing my manhood to harden. She must have felt it as well, since she tried to raise herself almost immediately. My arms, though, were too strong, and I enjoyed as her ass muscles began to writhe. She tried to kick my legs with hers, but given the poor state one was in, all she managed was a gentle nudge with the other.
"What....what are you doing?" there was real panic in her voice now. Something in her voice told me the question was rhetorical, for the hard prick pressing against her through the thin fabric of her skirt told her exactly what I was doing. I didn't bother to reply, but moved one hand from her waist to her mouth, pressing down hard on those soft lips. She tried to scream, but only muffled sounds came out. Even if she did scream, chances were that none except the rats would hear.
Her writhing became more violent, more desperate. Unable to balance herself on her injured foot, she tried her best to claw at my hands while thrashing her other foot. Her nails dug into my arm, drawing blood. The pain only heightened my anger. I kicked her good leg off balance, causing her to attempt another scream. This time, she managed to open her mouth and my middle finger slipped inside. Next moment, blinding pain shot through my digit as I realized that she had bit me.
Taken by surprise, I released her, focusing all my attention on yanking my now bleeding finger from her mouth. As I assessed the damage, I saw her raise herself and begin to limp off. Unfortunately for her, she tripped on some old wire and crashed head-first onto the concrete again. Despite my pain, I couldn't help but laugh - lady luck really wasn't on her side tonight.
The fall seemed to knock a substantial part of the fight out of her. She began to raise herself, but she was slower and her breathing was ragged. I wondered if she had broken a rib. Given her current condition, though, I didn't need to hurry. Instead, I checked my surroundings. Sometime in the scuffle, I had dropped my phone and the flash shone at an odd angle, illuminating the struggles of the poor girl in the periphery of the area it lit up. I picked up my phone and checked it for damage. The screen was cracked, all thanks to this bitch. Yet it was still working.
Turning back to the girl, I noticed that she had finally raised herself on her knees. Her skirt, once a virgin white, was now torn and soiled. She was trying to use a nearby pipe to raise herself onto her feet again. Her hand was shaking, and success was far from guaranteed. Inviting as her raised derriere was, I moved to her front, towering over her in the limited light of the camera flash. The girl raised her head and with pleading eyes, mouthed the word "please...." Tears were streaming down her hazel eyes, and blood - my blood - was smeared along one cheek.
"Please let me go....I just want to go home. Please! Please!" her voice went up with each "please", becoming hoarse and cracking. She made another vain attempt at using the pipe to raise herself, only to cause the pipe to give way and cause her to crash to the ground again. Worse, the broken pipe grazed her arm, drawing blood. Thus bloodied and bruised - mostly of her own actions - she curled up and began to sob harder.
Kneeling down beside her, I caught her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. The crop top had bunched up under her tits. Her torso was now muddied, the mud glistening in places where her tears fell onto her ample tits. Realizing that her entreaties were not having the desire effect, the girl let out a piercing scream for help, shattering the calm of the night. Then another, followed by another. As she paused to catch her breath, I took out a bottle of water from my satchel and held it in front of her. She raised herself to a sitting position, resting against a rusting industrial tank.
For a moment she pondered whether to scream again. Yet something in my offer told her that I was not afraid of anyone hearing her screams, and I had the time to do what I wanted. With fresh tears washing away what remained of her mascara, she took the bottle and drank. As she drank, I took in her nubile figure, wondering whether this girl would have ever bothered to look at me if we passed each other in the street. A voice in my mind reminded me that she was the girl who had slapped me.
I let her finish the water. As she put the empty bottle down beside her, I noticed that she had calmed down. Was she resigned to her fate? Apparently not, since she promptly began to beg me to let her go. Women, it seems, feel that the more they can tell their captors about themselves, the more the latter will go easy on them. Amidst her pained begging, she told me all I needed to know. She had been invited to a party at the councillor's house. She had hoped to snag the debauched son. He had tried to get cozy with her, and she had escaped via the boundary wall. While doing so, she had lost her bag, phone and her shoes, leaving her with no means of figuring out where to go or seek any help. Of course she had lied to her parents about sleeping over at a friend's house. No one was expecting her for hours at least.
I made this plain to her. "What do you want?" she asked. This time, the question was specific. Her eyes no longer had the desperate look of a trapped bird in them. Instead, they had dimmed to a resigned glance, one that told her captor that she did not expect to have an easy night. She was trying to fathom how deep a shithole she was in.
"What do you think?" I said as I began to gently caress her fiery locks, my eyes locked on her reddened eyes. She avoided my glance as I pulled myself closer to her, until I felt my lips touch hers. They were wet. Licking away my own blood, I grabbed her head and drew her into a deep kiss. I felt her knees move underneath me, and for a moment I feared that she would try to break my nuts. But she opened her lips, completing the tender gesture.
Her lips felt soft, her lipstick tasting different from anything I had tasted before. As I drew her lips into mine, I felt her body respond subtly, relaxing slightly. My arms moved down from her head to her waist. This time, she did not respond - she did not even break the kiss. I shifted my position so I was once more sitting beside her, and continued to devour her soft petals. My tongue began to push against her teeth, and managed to part them eventually. Pulling her closer till her tits mashed against my chest, I felt her hot breath as my tongue explored the deepest corners of her mouth. It pushed against her tongue, which seemed unwilling to join the dance. Yet like the girl, her tongue had nowhere to go. Soon, they entwined in a duet spanning her oral orifice to the tune of muffled moans.
Suddenly, she broke away. Her gaze lowered, she begged me once more. Yet this time, it was half-hearted, as if she did not want to expend any more energy on what had already proved futile. Eventually, she looked at me again and said, "please, don't....." She knew what words would follow, but her cheeks turned red, her lips unable to form the words to describe her own desecration. She knew what was to come, what my hungry gaze meant for her nubile body.
Without saying a word, I stood up, resting my phone against a nearby workbench so the light fell on a wide area but did not blind us. The girl's gaze followed my movements as I began to undo the belt on my jeans. As the jeans went slack and then slid down, she turned her gaze away again and began to sob violently, perhaps not realizing that it caused her tits to rise up and down. I could have pulled my shorts down and pounced on her like a hungry dog. Yet there was something especially delicious about making her do the hard work herself, knowing fully well that there would be no escape. Clad in my shorts, I stepped forward until my clothed member was inches from her tear-stained face.
She turned her face and looked away, an expression of disgust mixed with fear on her face. I pressed further, my dick pressing against her cheek. She pressed her hands against my thighs, pushing me with residual strength, wishing my dick would just go away. "Just take it out. You know what to do." My voice was cold and measured, telling her that I knew what a slut like her was good for, and how I intended to make full use of her skills. With each passing moment, I pressed harder against her skull. Her hands began to slap and thrash against my thighs, unwilling to become a party to their owner's violation.
Yet it was only a matter of time. As the pressure continued to grow, I felt that desperate thrashing against my thighs subside. Her hands moved up to the waistband of my shorts and began to pull down. I eased the pressure on her face so my dick could spring free. As soon as it did, however, she turned away again. This time, I grabbed a fistful of her red hair, using it as a handle to rotate her mouth towards my member. Standing at full attention, it grazed against her pretty nose, before starting to probe her lips. I began to pull her hair harder, causing her to give me a furious glare. But she could only hold out for so long - her lips parted and I led my dick deep into her oral orifice. It felt warm, her tongue adding to the wet, soft sensation. I began to pull her head onto my dick, causing it to go further and further until it was ready to head down her gullet.
With my dick thus ensconced, I used her hair to pull her forward until she was kneeling. This was not a comfortable position for her. but her predicament left her with no choice. I kept pulling on her hair till my entire dick had disappeared into her mouth. At this point, she began to push against my thighs again. I held her there for a few moments, enjoying the expression in her eyes change from indignation to desperation. As her face began to turn red, I let go of her hair. She promptly fell back onto one side, clutching her injured ankle again. Her bloodshot eyes expressed nothing except fear and a desire for this unexpected nightmare to end as quickly as possible.
I checked my phone. It was 1AM. There was still plenty of time. My dick still hard and slick with her saliva, I waited for a couple of moments before reaching for her hair again. To my surprise, she moved faster than my hand, raising herself to cock-level. Clutching my dick in one hand, she began to gently lick the tip. Then she began to gently suck the knob, then alternating between sucking and licking the shaft. In her other hand, she cupped my balls, squeezing them just enough to send electric sensations up and down my body.
I grabbed the back of her head, using her hair to push my member deeper. She wrapped her hands around my waist as I did so, sucking my cock constantly. Between the pulsating warmth of her mouth and the pressure on my balls, I felt my orgasm approaching. Grabbing her hair with both hands, I began to roughly fuck her mouth. With each thrust, I jammed my dick all the way into her mouth before pulling out all except the tip. As I picked up speed and the ecstasy built up further, her head became a blur in my hands, her mouth a warm cocksleeve for my pleasure. With a violent motion, I pulled her head completely onto my cock until her nose was buried in my pubes as I exploded inside her mouth.
Exhausted and slightly dizzy, I let go of her hair, causing her to crumple to the ground, cum oozing out of her lips. She coughed up more cum. I moved over to her, and rubbed my cock all over her face, glazing her features in my seed. As she continued to pant and cough, I moved one hand over to her chest. My hand cupped her large tit, before gently squeezing the soft orb through the soiled top. I squeezed again, harder this time, causing her to wince in pain.
Grabbing her by the hair, I dragged her to her feet.
"Strip!" The command hit her like a lash, causing fresh tears to form at the corners of her eyes. This time, however, there was no useless begging. With trembling fingers, she raised her top over her head and off. She was wearing a strapless bra underneath. As she hesitated, I grabbed the middle of the bra and began to tug it off her. This caused her to reach behind herself and quickly undo the hooks. The bra came off in my hand, exposing a pair of lovely 34C udders that sat proudly on her heaving chest. The cold breeze had caused her large brown nipples to harden, inviting me to ravage them for all they were worth.
I pounced on her, pushing us against the tank and causing her to lose her balance. Unable to reply on her injured leg, she held onto me as I began to hungrily kiss her neck and shoulders before moving onto her tits. We crashed to the ground as I continued to bite into her delicate globes, tugging at her nipples and sucking them. Her sobs were replaced by moans as she tried to keep up with the rapid pace of my depredations. I bit deep into her neck, eliciting a high-pitched scream and leaving an angry red mark, before repeating myself over a dozen times across her chest. Soon, her white flesh was covered by red marks, some of which had begun to bleed. The sight only fueled my hunger.
My eyes moved to her soiled and torn skirt. Realizing what I was about to do, she placed one hand across her clothed labia, tugging down on the hem of her skirt. If given the chance, she might have resumed her begging. I gave her no chance. The empty factory echoed with the sound of a hard slap across her left cheek, my hand leaving a bright red mark. Before she could react, another followed on her other cheek. Then another, and yet another. Not satisfied, I made a fist and rammed it into the side of her face. The ring on my finger grazed her lip, adding yet another streak of red on the increasingly bloodied canvas of her body.
The punch finally persuaded her that if she wanted to keep her teeth, she had better give in. The fingers released the hem, allowing me to brush her hand aside. Grabbing her shapely thighs, I pulled her legs apart. Peeking out from underneath her skirt was a pink panty-covered crotch. My index finger moved in, poking into her labia. The girl shuddered at the impending violation of her most private area, but was wise enough not to attempt to stop me. My finger dug deeper, then formed into a hook that began to fuck her. A few strokes in, I felt the area become warm and wet.
I pushed my hands under her skirt, feeling for the waistband of her panties. One hard tug and they were bunched around her thighs. Another tug and they were hanging limply from one of her legs. My path thus cleared, I took a moment to admire her snatch. Her leg obscured the light coming from my phone, but I could make out that she had trimmed her bush. I looked up from her cunt to see her avoiding my gaze, as silent tears continued to pour down her cheeks. I pushed two fingers into her hole. They were met by a warm wetness that told me that her body was being aroused in spite of her predicament.
"Already wet for me, I see," the words drew a sharp glance before she looked away again. Smirking at her body's betrayal, I began to slowly finger-fuck her, pushing into her orifice as my other hand began twisting her nipples. She wasn't a virgin, that was for sure. But that didn't matter - her previous lovers would not have given her the rough fucking that she was about to receive for the rest of the night.
My cock was already rock hard again, and rearing to go at its wet prize. Removing my fingers from her cunt, I rubbed her juices all over her lips and cheeks. My hands grabbed her legs and pulled them further apart. Grabbing her hips, I aligned my dick against her wet hole. The girl had was breathing heavily, her chest heaving as she prepared for the inevitable. Despite the limited visibility, my dick found its mark as I pulled her towards me. I felt the tight warmth of her cunt begin to envelope my dickhead as it disappeared inside her. In another stroke, I was buried to the hilt, marvelling in the tight warmth that felt like a fuck glove designed specifically for my pleasure.
For a few moments, I revelled in the feeling of having claimed what was rightfully mine. Her eyes still refused to meet mine. A couple of slaps remedied this, her reddened eyes now staring at me with an expression somewhere between utter defeat and horror at being raped. I leaned down over her and took her lips into mine once more, tasting her blood as I went in. This time, she let me do as I pleased. Pushing my tongue deep into her mouth, I pulled out halfway from her cunt before plunging deep again. Soft moans escaped her lips, muffled by my tongue that once more ravishing her oral fuckhole.
I began to fuck her slowly, enjoying the way her body bounced under me with each thrust. I broke the kiss and positioned myself so I could grope her titbags as I continued my assault. If my earlier attack was harsh, this time I held nothing back. The night's silence came to be punctuated by a series of sharp yelps between moans as I squeezed her soft flesh and bit deep into her bags. I pinched her nipples and twisted them, pulling them up from her body until her body was held mid-air by her tits. She tried to balance herself, but I pushed her hands aside, causing her to collapse with another pathetic yelp.
The speed of my thrusts increased, causing her body to jerk and bounce rhythmically. I cupped her tits as they bounced, then buried my face in them. I was greeted by the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened. Hard slaps rang across the deserted room. She was no longer in any position to resist, but I kept slapping her because it felt good. I raised her hips and wrapped her legs around my neck, allowing me better access. The speed went up further; the climax was building up and I revelled in the total control that I had over this cunt. I pulled her up by her tits, then slapped her back down. I slapped her tits and twisted them. I punched her tummy, all to hear a variety of yelps, moans and groans escape her well-abused lips. Flashes of my past experiences floated by, telling me that this cunt deserved everything that she was getting, and more! No longer would I be confined to fapping off to influencers.
My mouth entered hers once more, finding her tongue and forcing it into another grotesque dance. This time, I bit on her tongue as I felt my floodgates open. Her eyes opened wide as she realized that her cunt had been inseminated. Was she on protection? Not that I cared!
Having deposited its load, my cock fell out, drawing a thick thread of cum with it. More oozed out from her abused cunt as I collapsed on top of her. I could feel her heartbeat underneath me, her ragged breathing as she hoped that the abuse was finally over. Thus spent, I lay on top of her, revelling in the aftermath of perhaps the best climax that I had ever had.
My blissful reverie was broken by the jarring sound of an alarm. Was it 4AM already? I should have been home, waking up from a night of restful sleep and preparing for another humdrum day. Instead, I was far from home, naked and sweaty, lying atop the victim of my harsh affections. Against my will, I raised myself to turn off the alarm. As I got up, she rolled to her side and curled up in a fetal position. The sobbing resumed.
A part of me wanted to pull up what remained of her skirt and go in through her backdoor. Yet I knew that daybreak was hardly an hour away. The question was - what should I do with her? Part of me - the part that had brought me back to her after I'd walked away, and told me that she deserved everything I did to her - now took my gaze to the large metal tanks. Anyone left inside would surely suffocate, and a dead body would not be found for weeks. Yet another part of me didn't want to kill her. Yet she had seen my face, and had her cum all over her. Any report to the police would land me in prison for years - if not decades. Would it possible to take her out of the factory without anyone seeing us? I lived alone, and if I could somehow get her inside my house, I could enjoy her at my leisure.
That train of thought crashed as I heard an unfamiliar sound behind me. Heavy footsteps! Before I could turn around, something hard connected with the back of my head, sending me crashing into the concrete floor.