Forced Ecstasy at Dawn

It was a muggy September night in 2022, and I wanted nothing to do with the chaos downstairs. But something unfolded that I’m still wrestling with.

My sister, Jenna, had turned our loft apartment into a party zone, dragging in her artsy friends, including that creep, Mason, who was always sniffing around her.

I’d seen him lay on the charm with Jenna countless times. She’d shut him down, but he kept circling like a vulture.

I bailed early, retreating to my room, too drained for their drama.

Around 4:30 a.m., I woke up, groggy, needing to hit the bathroom. I stumbled through the shadowy hallway, the thump of music dulled to a faint pulse. The place was dark, only slivers of neon from the street below creeping through the blinds. I slipped into the bathroom, did what I needed, and shuffled out.

In the hallway, Mason was there, slouched against the wall, his silhouette stark in the dim glow. His eyes locked onto me, a glint that made my skin crawl. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist, pinning me against the cold brick of the loft’s interior wall.

Look at you, strutting around like that… damn, you’re begging for it, – he muttered, his breath hot and sour against my ear.

His mouth was on mine, rough, his hands sliding under my oversized tee, pawing at my breasts. I shoved at his chest, my heart pounding, trying to wriggle free.

Mason, cut it out, you jerk! Get the hell away! – I whispered, voice sharp but low.

He didn’t flinch, pressing his full weight against me, trapping me.

Feel what you’re doing to me, – he growled, grinding himself against my hip.

I twisted, managing to slip out for a split second, my pulse racing.

I’m done. I’m going to my room, – I said, my voice quivering with anger and fear.

I darted to my bedroom, shutting the door, but I fumbled the lock. Mason pushed in right behind me, closing the door with a soft click that felt deafening.

He grabbed me again, more forceful now, slamming me against the wall beside my desk. His lips attacked my neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, his hands gripping my ass through my sleep shorts. I kept muttering “stop,” but it was like shouting into a void.

Through the walls, I heard laughter – Jenna and some guy stumbling out of her room, their voices carefree.

If anyone noticed Mason was missing, they’d never think to check my room.

His fingers slid under my shorts, brushing against me, ignoring my attempts to push his hand away.

No… Mason… please, stop… – I begged, my voice breaking.

In one swift move, he tugged my shorts and underwear aside, leaving me exposed. My knees buckled, but he held me up, his grip unrelenting.

He pushed me toward the bed, yanking off his hoodie. He pulled my tank top down, my breasts spilling free, and latched onto them, his mouth hot and aggressive, teeth scraping my nipples, sending sharp jolts through me.

Don’t pretend you’re not loving this, – he hissed, his voice thick with arrogance.

I clawed at his shoulders, furious, my nails digging in.

You bastard… – I spat, but my hands stayed tangled in his hair, not pulling him away.

His face pressed into my chest, his stubble scraping my skin as he ground against me. A traitor moan escaped my lips, soft and unwilling, my body reacting despite my mind screaming no.

He dropped to his knees on the mattress, prying my thighs apart. His mouth was on me, tongue lashing with a hunger that made my hips buck involuntarily. The wet heat of his lips and the rough flick of his tongue sent shudders through me, my body betraying me with every pulse.

I clenched my jaw, stifling the sounds threatening to spill out, my hands fisting the sheets.
As he worked, he scrambled out of his jeans, the denim rustling in the quiet room. His erection strained against his dark boxers, the outline thick and insistent.

In a daze, I shifted, crawling until I was level with his hips, my face hovering over him. I dragged my lips across the fabric, feeling the hard pulse beneath, my breath hot against it. I nipped at the cotton, soaking it with slow, deliberate licks.

I hooked my fingers in his waistband, easing his boxers down. His cock sprang free, heavy and thick, a prominent vein running its length, the head dark and swollen, glistening faintly in the low light. It was intimidatingly solid, curved slightly, radiating heat.

I traced my tongue along the shaft, slow and teasing, tasting salt and skin. I hesitated, but he didn’t let me linger. His hands gripped my head, fingers tight in my hair, and he thrust into my mouth, deep and sudden. I gagged, tears prickling as he pumped, fast and relentless, my throat burning, saliva dripping down my chin.

I pulled back, gasping, and lay on my back, legs trembling as they fell open. His eyes were feral, glinting in the dark. He climbed over me, positioning himself, and with one brutal thrust, he buried himself inside me, stretching me to the edge of pain.

I arched, a choked cry escaping as pleasure and discomfort collided, my nails digging into the mattress. His hand clamped over my mouth, rough and unyielding.