Try to fight him off

"Jack, don't! I mean it!" you shout at him as he presses forward. You bring your leg up, intending to kick him, but your knee bumps the steering wheel and he easily brushes the kick aside. He slides between your struggling thighs and you feel the dampness of his jeans and the wet scent of him.

"You don't mean it Lisa. You don't mean it at all," he says with a leer and reaches forward, grabbing your shirt at the collar. You grasp his wrist with one hand and try to hit him with the other, but he's far too strong, pinning your hand. He grins at you, staring into your eyes, then with single brutal tug he rips your shirt open, the buttons bouncing off the windows and dash.

You're terrified, your breathing coming in ragged gasps. He looks down at your body, and you know that your breathing is making your lush breasts quiver and heave. Restrained by a black bra, they bulge out the top of it, leaving very little to the imagination.

"Please don't," you whimper. "Please don't hurt me. Please Jack."

He smiles cruelly at you and reaches out to pull your bra up over your tits, letting them hang free for his appraisal.

"Pierced nipples. My my, aren't you the little slut. I thought you were when you were bending over the back seat to show me your ass. Just a little tease, aren't you Lisa?"

"No! I wasn't teasing, I was looking for my jeans. I'm not a tease. Please stop Jack! Please! Don't hurt me, please don't hurt me."

He cups one of your ripe breasts, squeezing it, then rolling the nipple between his finger and thumb. Despite your fear you gasp at the sensation and see your nipples respond, hardening to his touch.

"That's better," he laughs. "Getting all ready for me, aren't you Lisa? Getting wet down there? Is your pussy starting to get good and juicy for me?"

"No! I don't want you touching me!" you scream. "Leave me alone! Fuck you!" you flail at him, trying to hit him but your futile efforts are easily fended off.

"No Lisa, it's you who is going to be fucked," he grins, grabbing the waistband of your mini-shorts and trying to tug them down. They're tight and with your struggles he pulls you towards him, but manages to pull them down over your round rump. You're scrabbling in panic, trying to get away from him, trying to figure out a way to avoid being ****.

He traps your thrashing legs, clamping them under on arm and using the leverage to roll you over. You cling to the steering wheel, trying to stop him but he's far to strong for you, and in a moment you are face down on the seat, your breasts pressed against the rough fabric. You feel him pulling your shorts further down, wrestling them past your knees. You've never felt so helpless, and you start to sob in fear and humiliation, begging him incoherently to stop.

He grabs your hips and pulls your ass up, wrenching the shorts down, pulling one leg out of them. You feel his fingers squeeze your flesh, then rub between your thighs, pressing against your thong covered slit.

"Please stop, please, please!" you beg, crying with terror, having no real belief that he will listen to you but unable to do anything else. You hear him chuckle happily, as if he's enjoying your humiliation, then feel him pull your thong aside and thrust a finger between your swollen lips. He was right, you are wet. Despite your fear you're immensely aroused, your body betraying you.

"Such a little slut," he murmurs as his fingers probe your pussy. "Someone has **** fantasies, doesn't she Lisa? Someone wants to be helpless and taken and used. You pretend you don't like it, but down in your most secret places, you know it's true. Do you play with yourself while you imagine being bent over and used like a cumslut, Lisa?"

"No...no...." you sob helplessly, your resistance crumbling. You know that there's more than a little truth in his words. You've always been excited by the thought of submitting to a strong man, and it's a fantasy that has figured large in your masturbation sessions. You've even, you reluctantly admit, fantasized about being ****. Being used by a strange man who takes you for his pleasure, with no thought for yours. Your mind is flooded by your thoughts and by the sensations of guilty pleasure coursing through your body. You weep pathetically at your plight as Jack's fingers explore your pussy.