Dear Readers, My story is graphic! If forced sex offends you, then please choose not to read my story. This is my fantasy!
How dare she blow him off! As he worked in his shop he kept thinking about her. He tried to warm up to her, but he couldn't get her to play with him. He took another drink of his moonshine and worked on his pickup truck. He was becoming intoxicated and madder by the minute. She had worked with him, training at his machines for almost a year. She walked around way too confident in her jeans and cowboy boots. That rubbed him the wrong way. Little bitch, he thought! He always managed to have every woman he wanted. No woman had ever told him no and she wasn't going to be the first. He was going to have her...one way or another!
He replaced the bolts on the motor of his truck. Then, he tightened the last one; missed and ripped through his skin...blood tricked down his hand; he grabbed a greasy rag and wiped the blood, thinking about that damn red greasy rag she kept in her back pocket. She was no machinist, but the bitch damn well thought she was! He was going to put an end to this tonight. Intoxicated and irritated, he gulped his whiskey, and decided to drive to town.
Sipping his whiskey, he drove the back roads to the place where they worked. He was hoping she'd give it up willingly, but if not, he was prepared to take what he wanted from her. He knew that she'd be alone, she liked it that way. He didn't understand it, but this would work out to his advantage tonight. He parked beside her truck and took another drink. Even her truck reflected her attitude. Rebel! Loner! Hell, he knew she drank moonshine and cold beer from a can. What normal girl did this? She called herself a cowgirl. Whatever!! Who did she think she was anyway? With her cowboy hat in the dash, her new brush guard, and her bumper stickers. Oh, and the mud on her tires. Ugh! He'd show her! He'd fix her fucking stuck up attitude!
She was surprised to see him! She wondered why he had come back so late. Had he forgotten his tools? Had she done something wrong? He was a good supervisor, but he wasn't easy to read and he was pretty tough on her too. She had noticed that he didn't have the patience for her like he did and he was quick to put her on the spot. She felt as if he made her run the gauntlet every day. They had exchanged harsh words only days before, bitter words that she regretted, and he had gotten really angry with her, but things had been stressful lately, so she had dismissed it, wanting to not think the worst.
They had innocently flirted with each other, and things had even gotten steamy, but she wanted to keep things professional between them. She sensed that this didn't make him happy, but he'd have to deal with it! After all, he was a big boy she thought! She was aware that the other women at work "gave it up" for him, but she wasn't about to fall into that trap. She had been through a lot this past year and besides she didn't have the best luck at relationships and her sex life had always left her unsatisfied. Not even her marriage of twenty-six years satisfied her. No man understood her needs. So, she was better off not starting anything she predicted even Steve couldn't finish.
However, she did find him attractive and at times found herself wanting him. He was a hottie! His brown eyes, dark hair, and large frame were her type. He was street smart, patient, strong, and there were times she found herself fantasizing about him, even surprised when his voice made her panties wet, but she had to keep focused on her work. She liked when he wore his sleeveless shirts.
On purpose she'd stand close to him so she could smell his perspiration. She loved the way he smelled. As she stood beside him she'd think how she'd love to bury her face in his damp armpits. She knew this was strange, but she wasn't like any other woman. His demeanor was intimidating at times, and this turned her on, but unfortunately he was taken. When she worked with him she couldn't help but feel a connection, but she would never show it. Ever! She needed this job; it was the only thing that was going to save her and no man was going to stand in her way. Not this time!
He noticed right away she was acting as if she owned the place. He stood in the doorway and watched her. Her demeanor made him roll his eyes. She had told him that it gave her such a rush to have such an important job running the lathe and milling machines and changing programs. She had even teased him that it made "her panties wet" to run his machines. He had spent a lot of time invested in her training and she was going to repay him for all of his effort. The least she could do would be to suck his cock when he wanted.
He could hear her music playing on her laptop. Country! This was no surprise! She enjoyed her work way too much to suit him and he was done with her! He was going to find out tonight what she was made of. Was she the tough girl she pretended to be? Tonight was the night when the truth would come out. He was going to find out one way or another.
She sensed this was no ordinary visit as he scrutinized her work. He teased her, tried to play with her, but realized he was getting nowhere. Stuck up bitch, he thought! He'd show her! She could smell the whiskey on his breath and she could tell he'd had way too much to drink. She could also tell he was in a bad mood. Agitated, almost angry! He even had a stone grimace on his face. What was his problem? He walked over to his new shiny black toolbox and took out something. 'Hmmm', she thought.
He walked over to her, but quickly pushed her up against her machine with his elbow in her back, making her cry out, grabbing her arms and taping her hands together. She was caught off guard and she didn't know how to respond. She tried to get away from his grasp, but it was no use. He taped her so tightly that the circulation was soon cut off of her wrists until she could no longer feel them. The pain was agonizing! Her mind was racing.
"Please stop, Steve. Please don't do this!" she begged with confusion in her voice.
Ignoring her pleas, he snatched a handful of her long blonde hair, and dragged her to the center of the building. She could sense the rage in him as she faced her captor.
"Slut, don't tell me what to do! Do you understand?" he shouted at her with fury in his voice.
Catching her breath, she sheepishly nodded her head.
"Good girl!" he proclaimed with a smile letting go of his tight grip on her.
"You are my slut for the night. I will show you no mercy and I will do as I please. I will make you scream out in pain and ecstasy and you can plead for me to stop, and beg for mercy, but I won't stop until I've had enough! And when I'm done, you will be my very own fuck-toy whore to do with what I please! Do you understand?"
She could feel herself starting to shake with fear as well as rage. Why was Steve doing this? Tears were streaming down her face. She was breathing hard and sweating. God, this can't be happening! She thought to herself! Her mind was racing. Could she endure his wrath?
"Fuck you! Let me go and I won't press charges!" she shouted as she struggled to get free of him!
"You fucking little bitch! You aren't going to press charges! Your little cunt will be begging for more before I am through with you!" he said as he gritted his teeth holding her close as if she couldn't hear him.
"Give it your best shot!" she told him with hatred in her voice. She was scared, but she wasn't giving up yet.
He backhanded her across the face causing a trickle of blood to drip from her nose and mouth. She pushed her body into his and screamed loudly, spitting blood all over his face and all over his shirt.
"Go ahead and fuck me! That's what you came here for! Get on with it!" she screamed!
Grabbing her shirt just under her chin with one hand, he smacked her again, showing her no mercy, sending her down to her knees. She spat blood on the floor at his feet. Although she showed him no fear, her heart was beating wildly and she was terrified. He stood above her glaring down at the tears streaming down her face. He was proud that he had taken her down a notch, but he was far from being through with her.
He brushed the bloody sticky hair away from her bruised face and asked her if she was going to be still and cooperate. She nodded her head that she would. He took his thumb and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, bent down and forcefully kissed her thrusting his tongue in her mouth. He kissed her hard, holding her close to him with both hands around her neck, pushing his tongue deep, exploring her mouth. Then, pouring his whiskey down her, he wanted her intoxicated and relaxed. He laughed out loud letting her know that she was exactly where he wanted her.