What you think

You feel a wave of disgust wash over you, but you push it down. You need this apartment, and you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep it. "What do you want me to do?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Mr. Thompson's smirk widens, and he takes a step closer to you. "I think you know what I want," he says, his voice low and menacing. "I know what girls like you do to make it out here."

You feel your heart rate quicken, but you push down the fear. You need to do this.

"Please, just go in the apartment first," you plead, trying to keep your voice steady.

But Mr. Thompson just shakes his head. "No, I like it here." He takes another step closer to you, his eyes roving over your body.

You feel a surge of panic as you realize that he's not going to back down. You try to push him away, but he's too strong. He grabs you by the wrists and pins you against the wall, his fat fingers digging into your skin.

"Please, stop," you whimper, but Mr. Thompson just smirks.

He leans in closer, his hot breath on your face. You can smell the stale coffee and cigarettes on his breath. His grip on your wrists tightens, and you can feel the bruises forming. He pushes you harder against the wall, and you can feel the cold concrete against your back.

With a swift motion, he rips off your shirt, exposing your bra. You feel a surge of fear and humiliation wash over you. You try to struggle, but he's too strong. He uses his free hand to grope your breast, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

"Stop it, please," you plead, your voice shaking.

But Mr. Thompson just smirks and continues to grope you. You feel a wave of panic as you realize that you are trapped and helpless. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. Mr. Thompson takes advantage of your vulnerability, his hands exploring your body. You can feel his rough fingers tracing the outline of your bra, and you shiver with disgust.

" Stop it, please," you plead again, your voice barely above a whisper. You try to squirm away, but Mr. Thompson's grip on your wrists only tightens. He uses his knee to **** your legs apart, and you feel a wave of fear wash over you as he presses his crotch against your exposed skin. The rough fabric of his pants scratches against your bare leg, sending shivers down your spine. His hands are everywhere, groping and squeezing, making you feel like a piece of meat on display. You try to struggle, but your efforts are futile against his brute strength. You can feel the tears streaming down your face, and your eyes are blinded by the horror of what's happening.

Just as you think things can't get any worse,

Mr. Thompson's hand starts to move down your pants, and you feel his rough fingers touching your most intimate area. You let out a scream, but it's muffled by his hand covering your mouth. He starts to thrust his hips against you, and you can feel his fat stomach pressed against you. You feel violated and powerless, and you can't believe this is happening to you again.

Mr. Thompson's grip on your wrists tightens, and he forces your hands above your head, pinning you against the wall. His other hand continues to grope and explore your body, and you can feel his hot breath on your face. You close your eyes and try to escape the horror of the situation, but it's no use.

With a grunt, Mr. Thompson pushes himself inside you, causing you to cry out in pain. He starts to thrust harder and faster, and you can feel yourself being pushed against the wall. Each thrust is like a punch, and you can feel yourself growing weaker.

You try to struggle, but it's no use. You're trapped.

"That's it, whore," Mr. Thompson growls in your ear, his hot breath making you feel even more sick. "I'm going to fuck you every week until you get my money."

You feel like you're going to be sick. You can't believe this is happening to you again. You feel like you're nothing more than a piece of meat, a means to an end. You feel dirty, used, and worthless.

Mr. Thompson continues to thrust into you, his grip on your wrists tightening.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, each thrust like a punch. Your mind is racing, and you're trying to think of a way to escape, but you're trapped.

Suddenly, Mr. Thompson's thrusts become more erratic, and you can feel him tensing up. He lets out a low growl, and you know what's about to happen. He cums inside you, and you feel a wave of disgust wash over you. You feel dirty, used, and violated.

Mr. Thompson pulls out of you, and you can feel the warm liquid running down your legs. You're trembling, and you can't believe what just happened. Mr.

Thompson looks at you with a satisfied grin and says, "That's right, whore. You're mine now. I'll be back on the weekend, and if you don't have my money, I'll do this again."

You feel a wave of panic wash over you as you realize that this isn't over. You try to say something, but your voice is barely above a whisper. Mr. Thompson just chuckles and walks away, leaving you alone and ****.

You quickly put your clothes back on, trying to cover up the shame and disgust you feel. You can still feel his hands on your body, and you want to scrub yourself clean.

You take a deep breath and head back to your apartment, locking the door behind you. Your mind is racing, and you can't believe what just happened. You go in and shower, the next few days are a blur of work and trying to figure out what is going on with your life.