Template:Adminpick/May 2017

She was asking for it.

I’ve already got some of you pissed. You don’t even know what she was asking for.

Maybe she just wanted a cold drink of water, but that’s not where your mind went.

You’re sick – just as bad as the rest of this perverted society which will try to destroy her mind, body, and spirit.

Nothing that happened was her fault. Not the length of her skirt (just above the knee), not the cut of her blouse (there was still room to imagine her curves), not in the way she walked, or talked, or anything else. The only thing she was guilty of was having a pretty face.

More than a pretty face really. Flawless porcelain skin, haunting dark eyes, and a smile which would entice an Angel into sin.

The moment I entered the restaurant and saw her bussing tables, I knew what was in store for her. Maybe not today (although I wouldn’t be surprised, considering how she looked bending over the table to wipe it down), maybe not tomorrow walking home from class, but sooner or later someone was going to see this Goddess and force her into submission.

The monsters who do it – you don’t think beyond the gratification of the moment. How good it would feel to hold her down while you strip her bare. How soft the skin of her thighs will feel when you crush them in your hands. How she quivers when you enter her, her face contorting in the agony of pleasure.

Credited to A Haunted Mind