The walk into the woods was slow. Agonizing. She figured this rape would be too. He got off on her fear. Came quicker. Hurt her less. So as if on cue, she started shivering, and he pressed his excitement onto her back. It was disgusting; he was disgusting. But she kept up the façade because without it, she could be there for hours. She was still swollen from the last time. So when a dog darted out from an over grown patch of weeds, she screamed and ran. He didn’t bother to chase her; he figured its owner was nearby.
© michele mitchell, 2014
Photo credit: http://abreitmann.snappages.com/
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