The Missing Wallet

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

My phone buzzes. It's 9:27 p.m. and my phone just hit 5% life. This needs to be quick.

I'm on the front porch, looking around before opening the townhouse door that was left ajar. Besides a woman and her German Shepherd turning the corner of 5th, the sidewalks are empty.

I open the door and enter the foyer. Only the silhouettes of the furniture and décor can be seen. "Mr. Wright," my voice travels through the darkness. No answer. This is what the address says, but maybe he isn't home?

I call his name one more time and wait, but there is still no answer. So much for trying to be a good Samaritan...

As I turn around to exit, the outline of a muscular figure stands in the frame of the doorway. The streetlights lend enough light to illuminate the grin on the man's face. He slams the door shut.

Before I can react or even form a thought, he shoves me to the cold, tiled floor. My fall is cushioned by a thick, narrow rug. My fingertips graze the lines of the grout as I try to steady myself upright, but before I can even sit up, he is on top of me, pushing me back down, pinning me with his giant shoulders.

I squirm, try to wiggle free, but his grip on my arms tightens as he forces himself closer to me. There's an insatiable hunger in his eyes. I let out a few incoherent murmurs before he shoves his hand over my mouth. I can feel his coarse hands against my lips. The stubble on his cheeks rub against my face as he moves his mouth close to my ear and whispers, "Shut the fuck up. You're my little bitch now."

He pulls out a razor blade and starts cutting off my shirt, leaving a scratch on my chest. The sensation of his tongue sliding across the small gash makes me quiver. So warm. So wet. He looks up at me with his voracious eyes and moves his face closer to mine.

"Don't you say a fucking word," he whispers with hot breath before releasing the pressure of his hand from my mouth.

My pants no longer fit. They grow tighter as my cock swells. The stubble on his chin brushes down my chest as he licks the wound one more time. He feels my growing member, grins, and then slices my pants and underwear off with uncanny precision. The abruptness and force of the motion makes me gasp.

"What did I just say?" His rugged hand covers my mouth again. His other hand opens the nearby cupboard. Mr. Wright lifts whatever he pulled from the cupboard up to his mouth. A ripping sound pierces the silence.

The next thing I know, my mouth is sealed shut by a piece of duct tape. His eyes connect with mine as he heads south, ending with him nibbling on my cock. I've never been so anxious and turned on in my life.

As I lay on the rug of the foyer, his dense forearms slide under my armpits, lifting me up over his shoulder with no perceivable effort. "Daddy's gonna take you to bed," he tells me as he carries me up the staircase. My head bobs up and down his backside as my cock presses into his chest. I can see clearly now. His ass is sculpted like a Roman gladiator.

Mr. Wright kicks the cracked door open and throws me onto the king-sized bed with no consideration. After tumbling, I settle in the middle of the bed. Face down. Ass up.

"Don't fucking move," he tells me. I don't dare look behind me as I hear the clanging of his belt and pants hitting the floor.

Rough hands grasp my ankles as he drags me on my back towards him. I look into his eyes, only able to see a glimmer of green accentuated by the moonlight. He studies me with passion and intensity. I can finally make out his body; he has a lot of fur on his chest and some scruff on his chin.

I am not able to gaze at him for long before he gets on me and lifts my leg. He spits all over my ass leaving it dripping wet, then on my face so I stop looking at him. He shoves his monstrous dick inside of me. I try to scream, but it comes out as a muffled groan.

He starts going as fast as a roaring piston. It is the worst pain I have ever felt, but with each pump, the thrusts create pure ecstasy. I grab the sheets of the bed as a strange feeling to pee overcomes me. More and more, is all I can think.

Time doesn't exist. The fucking seems to last an eternity. He is growling with a ferocity known only to bears. I can barely contain myself as the feeling intensifies.

He's still inside of me as he puts his arms underneath mine and lifts me up. He keeps fucking me while I am constricted by his arms. I'm hugging him tightly while my cock rubs against the hairs on his chest. The tickling and friction against my dick puts me on the precipice of release.

The sensation is too overwhelming to hold back any longer. I can't. It's coming.

My mind goes blank and I tighten my hold. All I feel are the waves of contractions and warmth as I cum. I can tell he is turned on; he starts moving me up and down, faster and faster before eventually letting out a roar. I feel my insides get warm.

He lifts me up and throws me onto the bed like a piece of used trash. After staring at me smugly like I'm some sort of conquest, he grabs my neck and forces me up, leading me downstairs to the door. He rips off the duct tape and shoves me outside naked.

All I wanted to do was return his missing wallet, I think to myself. As I'm walking away, I hear a shout from behind. "Hey, bitch!" I look back and see my torn clothes sailing through the air towards my head. "Thanks for returning my wallet," he says before the door slams shut.

I guess it pays to be a good Samaritan.