She's been viewing a warehouse loft apartment. Fully furnished. Exposed red brick lining most of the walls. Black hardwood polished to a high shine on the floor. Rich dark fabrics and mahogany furniture fill out the apartment. The kitchen contrasts in bright stainless steel, showing the modern upgrades to this part of old San Francisco. Floor to ceiling (or near enough) windows are covered with thick, heavy brocade curtains, allowing as much or as little light and heat into the place as one wishes. In a surprising architechtural touch, a row of skylights open up the roof, giving the whole place an ambient light which is somehow bright and dim at the same time due to the dark woods and brick. Clearly, this is the apartment for her- the fact that this is her third walk-through is evidence enough of that.
She begs off from the realtor, for just a few private minutes in the place. The realtor, perhaps sensing the impending huge comission, acquiesces, surprising her by not only conceding immediately, but by leaving the apartment completely; latch snicking gently as the door closes. She's fairly certain a call is being placed, already pre-ordering the champagne for the celebration of the sale.
She drifts around the apartment in an almost ethereal state, letting the sounds and aura of the apartment wash over her. Warm and inviting, yet with some dark undertones that reassure her, titillate her, and scare her just a bit. She's in her own world; she never hears him approach.
Roasting behind one of the heavy, drawn curtains, he watches the far-away look on her face as she swings past him, almost looking at him but not seeing anything at all.
One hand clamps itself over her mouth, the other snakes quickly into her hair and spins her into her beloved brick wall with a solid thump that hurts the back of his hand and causes sparks behind her eyes as her head connects. His hand scrapes itself raw on the brick, her forehead splits upon the stonework. He shoves her down the bricks, her cut leaving a smear of crimson, a DNA link to claim this place later if she wishes. His hand momentarily leaves her mouth but before she can recover from the stars and songbirds circling her head, she feels her dress ripped open. Buttons fall like piano notes onto the hardwood as the dress is torn from her body.
She opens her mouth to scream but before she can, she feels a piece of the ruined cotton stuffed into her mouth as an effective gag. She is yanked up and flung by her hair onto the couch, which she bounces right back off of, landing on the coffee table- a cheap ikea one which she goes right through- landing hard upon her back, legs akimbo. Even more rattled, she never feels her panties being ripped away. She feebly tugs the fabric from her mouth, but feels it replaced immediately with her panties as they're shoved past her lips. To her shock and disgust she tastes her own arousal.
Her eyes are still blurred by sparks and tears and she cannot defend herself as his cock slices into her. Splitting her in one hard stroke, immediately pounding in and out her pussy with ruthless abandon, fucking her across the hardwood. Through the ruins of the coffee table, the wood digging into her back. Still unseeing, she scrambles to get away- get even a half foot away- scrabbling back like a crab, getting to her feet and trying to run.
His hand catches her ankle and wrenches her feet from under her, bringing her crashing down hard upon the floor once more, arms wrenched behind her back adn pinned there.
He sinks into her again.
Rough.
Deep.
Ruthless.
Rugged.
Each struggles to get free is met with a slap, or a yank on her hair, or should she get too uppity... a forceful slam of her face down onto the floor, until the wood beneath her is smeared crimson. All the while a well known and trusted cock ravages and savages her pussy like a viking on a pillage, stabbing and spearing her from behind. Trusted hands bruise her struggling arms- she'll have to wear long sleeves for a week at least.
Pinning down her hips, pressing her clit to the hardwood, he pounds into her, again and again. When she finally spits out the panties he replaces them with a shard of wood, ordering her to bite down on it like a bit. He uses another long bit of broken table to paddle her ass and back for still trying to get away, leaving long, angry looking lines on her flesh until finally... she goes limp and stops fighting and he tosses away the board and grabs her by the hair.
He flips her over, her sweaty body making a wet, squeaking sound upon the polished wood as she's dragged onto her knees so he can unleash his lust upon her bloodied yet beautiful face, the glowing white spunk mixing with the sweat, tears and red blood; creating a mask of savage beauty.
After gazing for a long few moments at what he's done to her, he carries her into the bathroom and sets her on the edge of the tub, where gentle hands, soft cloth, and cool water wash away his semen and her blood, leaving a shallow cut in her hairline, a light scrape on the side of her nose and another small cut just over her eyebrow. He re-dresses her in clothes he has brought with him, knowing she'd need something to wear out of there.
She smiles at him in the mirror as she attempts some damage control with the small makeup kit in her purse, knowing she can't face the realtor with her face in it's current state- he usually knows how to do as little visible damage possible but today he has gotten a liottle carried away.
As she stares into the mirror he slinks his arms around her and drops something that jingles softly into the basin in front of her. Into her ear comes the softest of whispers; the first words spoken between them.
"The place is ours, if you still want it."
Posted by Annora at February 21, 2008 05:33 PM