He'd chatted her up as a shot in the dark, putting out feelers as much as anything else. She was far from perfect, but she wasn't too bad. Besides, it had been a while and he was ready for some fun. She'd do just fine.
She rambled on about herself as though anyone would care while he listened patiently, working hard at appearing interested. "I'm from a town in Oklahoma called Bartlesville," she droned. "I came east a little over a year ago, and I just got my own place last month". He smiled and nodded, prompting her with more questions when there was a lull.
"My dad wanted me to go into sales, like him. I'm going to be a graphic designer, though. He made me go to bible college for two years after high school, but I thought it was dumb," her voice trailed off into a giggle.
"Not as dumb as you, honey" he thought.
A few cheap drinks later he was walking her home and she was hanging on him, making sure he knew she was "fun". The invitation upstairs was a foregone conclusion and soon they were climbing to her crappy 4th floor walk-up efficiency.
He followed behind her in a wake of perfume and liquor breath, carefully noting the shape of her ass in a thin tangerine skirt. She wasn't wearing panties. After drunkenly gouging the wood around the keyhole she stumbled through the door into the dark apartment.
The lights came on to reveal a nice, neat, boring lifestyle. The few furnishings appeared to have been the result of a single trip to IKEA and Target. She plugged her iPod into the stereo and filled the room with painfully generic dance music. She started dancing with no expectation he would join her, tossing suggestive glances over her shoulder. As bad as the music was, her body moved fluidly in a way that can't be taught and an erection began creeping to life as he watched.
When she had her back to him in the middle of a third, slow twirl, he jerked her wrist up between her shoulder blades and jammed her face into the couch. Pulling zip ties from the breast pocket of his suit jacket he deftly fastened her hands together and pushed her head further into the sofa cushions with his knee. When five zip ties were turning her hands purple he jerked her sweaty, makeup-smeared face into the open air.
After a few seconds of gasping for air she bared her teeth and said, "Let me go right now or I'll scream". With the same fistful of hair, jammed her face back into the couch. He gave her plenty of time to think about how she'd rather be breathing than suffocating in terrified darkness. When he decided she was ready, he pulled her face out again and put it nose-to-nose with his own.
"You're not going to scream, you're not going to run, you're not going to do ANYTHING unless I tell you to, you corn-fed CUNT!" He emphasized the word "cunt" with a stout crack across her cheek with the back of his hand. He mashed the side of her head down onto the coffee table and her frightened breath was visible on its glass surface. He pulled out his cock and kicked her ankles apart. He pulled the little skirt up around her waist and smeared spit on her shaven cunt.
His cock slid smoothly into her and grew absolutely rigid as he worked it in and out. When it was fully hard, he pulled out of her cunt, spat on her asshole and began to force it in there, instead. She shrieked as his member stretched and then tore her anus. "Shut the fuck up!" He punched her in the side of the head to remind her who was boss.
After giving her shithole a brutal, bloody pounding he pulled out his cock and kicked her to the floor. This time he grabbed the hair on the top of her head and pulled her face to his cock, now smeared with her blood and stool.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMM!" she screamed through her nose, lips clamped shut. "BITCH! You are going to suck my fucking cock!" he commanded. She replied by furiously shaking her head no. "Yeah, well we'll see about that." He dragged her the few steps to the kitchenette and rifled through the drawers with his free hand. Silverware and cutlery was strewn about by the time he produced a box of large, plastic freezer bags.
He put one of them over her head, then removed his belt and used it to seal the bag around her neck. Her eyes bulged with terror as her first breath escaped past the belt but didn't return. The plastic puckered into her mouth with each frantic attempt to inhale.
After a few seconds he asked her sweetly, "Now, are you going to suck my cock like a good girl?" This time the head shaking was an emphatic yes and in return he slipped the bag off. She breathed deeply and desperately until he gagged her with his cock.
"That's really nice, you're such a good girl," he chuckled.
The belt was still around her neck and she followed obediently as he pulled her back over to the couch. Her purse was next to the pool of slobber on the coffee table and he shook its contents onto the couch.
He scooped up her phone, pointed it at her and said "Smile!".
Filthy mascara tears streamed down her cheeks and she sobbed uncontrollably.
"Bitch, I said 'smile' and you'd better start doing it or you'll be fucking sorry!"
He dropped the phone and picked a kitchen knife up off the floor. He dug a deep scratch through her white blouse and across her tit. Bright red blood wicked into the cotton and the stain grew as she became paralyzed with fear.
"So can you smile now?" he said touching the knife to her forehead.
She managed a fairly believable grimace as he picked up the phone and caught this special moment in her life, his boner hovering beside her cheek. He shoved it back into her mouth and fiddled with the phone while he fucked her face.
"Oh look," he taunted. "Here's your contact list and there's someone named 'Daddy'. Do you think he'd like a picture message?"
Fresh tears rolled down her face as his cock pumped in and out of her mouth and he continued mocking her. "Suck it good so Daddy can see."
The phone beeped repeatedly as it recorded her humiliation. The muscles in his groin contracted and he covered her face in an explosion of viscous cum. He jammed his cock into her mouth and down her throat, depositing the last of his load into her gagging orifice. He slid her head off his cock and she collapsed in a sobbing heap.
He could have deleted the photos. He could have kept them by stealing the phone. He could have walked out and left her to suffer with secret memories of degradation.
He hit "send".