A small nod and she looked away. She definitely wasn't okay. The cuts on her wrists from the rope looked painful and it wasn't something she had been enthusiastic about during negotiations. He finished cleaning her body, no longer being sexual and allowing her to breathe. After drying her, he scooped her up again and walked to the tent.

Laying on the bed, her thoughts began to return. The air mattress was large and soft, covered in plenty of blankets, and felt like heaven after the hard dirt. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, his muscles bulging under a fresh shirt. "I call you Muscles." He laughed, it wasn't imaginative but she could hardly speak and her weakness was cute.

"Do you want us to stop?"

No. The rest had been great but…

"Yes."

With a snapping facial expression, he rose to his feet. "And why the fuck would I do that? I'm not done with you, pathetic slut!" He picked up a hunting blade and approached her, taking his time and making his body as large as it could be with every step. "Please," she began to softly beg and back away from him, crying and fearful of the man she knew was about to hurt her. "You said no limits. Do you want me to stop?" "Yes... please... stop..."

He was towering over, knife in hand, ready to take his prey. "Roll over." With one hand on her hair, he held the knife to her throat and slid his cock inside her pussy. "You're fucking stupid," the knife pressed against her skin then pulled away as he began to violently pound her.

The blade traced her body and sliced into her shoulder, leaving a cut no longer than an inch. A voice billowed from the door of the tent, catching her off guard and making her flinch. Muscles stabbed the knife into the mattress next to her head, popping it and making her let out a quiet "oh fuck" as she came.

| CHOICES |

• "You really are nothing but a filthy slut."
• "I told you she's fucked u-"