It was a nightmare, pure and simple, and the worst part of it was that it was a real nightmare, one from which she couldn't wake.  She knelt before him, the hand in her hair having forced her to her knees roughly. No, even when she offered him everything she thought he wanted he still could not be gentle, he still had to hurt her. The leather of the belt that brushed against her skin had promised as much. She doubted that even if she did everything he wanted, satisfied him every way a woman could, she would escape the sting of his impromptu weapon.<br/><br/>She moved forward, his insistent tugging indicating what he wanted, that he wanted it now with no delay. Still, even as she moved to take him in her mouth he shoved himself forward. Startled by the sudden movement she gasped in surprise, only to have her breath cut off by the flesh suddenly filling her mouth. Still he jabbed himself in deeper, roughly, no no sensuality, no rhythm, just a mad race to satisfy the carnal pleasure he sought.<br/><br/>Sommer, tears still in her eye, trying desperately not to gag on the meat that filled her, did her best to please him. She looked up at him, watched his face while her lips, tongue, her mouth did their work. Again he pushed further, this time causing Sommer to choke, cough around him, drool to drip down from her lips, around him, onto her body. Sommer slid her hands to his hips, pushing to slow him down, her eyes trying to say what her mouth could not... 'let me'.<br/><br/>Offering some resistance to his thrusting, his urgent tugging of her hair, Sommer sought to slow him down. As soon as she had regained some control she moved of her own accord, long luxurious strokes along him, moaning from deep in her throat, letting her tongue explore, her lips caress as she had learned to do. She sought to please him, not because she wanted to, not because she enjoyed her submission, but out of fear that if she did not, worse would be visited upon her, and that alone was motivation enough for one such as her.