**Title: Taken in the Wild**

The homeless camp was quiet tonight—just the flicker of dying fires and the distant hum of the city. I’d been squatting here for weeks, moving from place to place, but tonight was different. Ben had been watching me. I could feel his eyes on me every time I crouched near my makeshift tent, his gaze heavy like hands already on my skin.

He cornered me just as the moon peeked through the trees. I tried to back away, but he was too fast, too strong. My pulse hammered in my throat as he grabbed my wrists, forcing them behind my back. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, his voice rough.

The rope bit into my skin as he tied my hands together—tight, efficient. I bucked against him, but he just laughed, low and dark. “Fuck, you’re stubborn,” he muttered before looping another length around my ankles, pulling them up against my wrists. Frogtied. Helpless.

I thrashed, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts, but he just grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. “Open.” The dirty rag he stuffed into my mouth muffled my protests, the taste of sweat and grit making me gag. He secured it with another strip of fabric, knotting it behind my head so tight I could barely breathe.

Then came the hanging.

He dragged me toward a low tree branch, smirking as he tossed a thick rope over it. My stomach dropped. No, no, no—but he wasn’t stopping. He looped the rope around my bound ankles, testing the tension before lifting me up. My body jerked as he pulled, my shoulders screaming as my weight shifted, my head dangling just inches from the dirt.

“Fuck, look at you,” he said, running a hand up my trembling thigh. His fingers dug in as he traced my exposed cunt, already slick with fear and something hotter, darker. He spat on his fingers before shoving two inside me without warning. I choked on the gag, my hips arching involuntarily.

He laughed again, cruel and amused. “You like that, huh? Bet your tight little pussy’s dripping for me.” He twisted his fingers, curling them against my walls, and I whimpered, my body betraying me. He added a third finger, stretching me roughly. “Gonna make you take every inch of my cock.”

He undid his belt, his thick dick already hard, flushed red at the tip. He lined himself up, pressing against my entrance. “You feel that? You’re gonna fucking remember this.”

And then he slammed into me.

The stretch burned—he was too big, too rough—but the pain twisted into something else as he fucked into me with deep, brutal strokes. My cunt clenched around him, wet and unwillingly eager. The rope creaked above us as he pounded into me, my body swaying with every thrust.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. He leaned in, biting my shoulder as he drove himself deeper. “You love this, don’t you? Love being used like a fucking toy.”

I shook my head, but my traitorous body arched into him, my clit throbbing with every slam of his hips. He reached between my legs, rubbing my clit in rough circles, and my vision whited out as the pleasure crashed over me. I came hard, shuddering around his cock, my muffled moans lost to the night.

He didn’t stop.

His pace turned punishing, his thrusts erratic as he chased his own release. “Gonna fill you up,” he grunted, slamming into me one last time before he stilled, his cock pulsing inside me as he came.

He lowered me slowly, my limbs numb, my breathing ragged. When he finally pulled out, his cum dripped down my thighs, sticky and warm. He smirked down at me, tracing a finger through the mess. “Good girl.”

Then he walked away, leaving me bound, gagged, and wrecked in the dirt.