Ask him to help you escape.
From Create Your Own Story
"Okay, fine." As you expel the last bit of semen from your violated mouth, you turn around to glare at him angrily. "But you have to help me get out of here."
"That wasn't part of the deal." He smirked as if he had just outsmarted you, which you suppose he had. The nerve of this guy! Now you really want to punch him.
"Look, if you don't help me..." You hesitate for a moment, then an idea suddenly strike you. "If you don't help me escape, I will find out who your girlfriend is and tell her what you did."
"You're lying." Even though he attempt to call your bluff, you can tell by the change in his facial expression that your comment got to him. "There's no way you can find out who my girlfriend is."
"Why don't you try me then, STANTON?" You prodded him further, and then quickly caught a glimpse of his name tag. "BILLY Stanton."
Oh how the tables have turned! You watch with some sense of vengeful satisfaction as his complexion becomes a pale ghostly white at the mention of his full name.
"You know how easy it is to go online and find out everything there is to know about someone, right?" You boldly took a step towards him, causing him to stumble back unexpectedly. "All you need is a full name. It becomes even easier when you know where the person WORKS."
"Okay, okay, fine. I'll help you escape." Apparently not expecting you to become so aggressive, he stuttered into agreement. Looks like there was SOME positive element to being forced to blow this guy after all, even if it still was really disgusting. But at least now you can blackmail him into helping you rather than trying to escape on your own and risking a far more terrible outcome.
"Okay, here's what we'll do." He reluctantly spoke. "I will pretend to take you in, and when we get to the lobby near the main entrance, you make a run for the exit."
"Deal. But you need to turn off that off." Not trusting him entirely, you pointed to his radio. "No contact with anyone."
He flipped the OFF switch and begin to walk out with you in front and one hand around your wrist against your back. As you reach the lobby, you can feel his grip beginning to tighten as you slowly pass the main entrance area. This was no surprise to you, you expected that he would try to hand you over to his boss now that he's had his way with you.
With one swift motion, you twist your shoulder around and smash the elbow of your free hand into his stomach and then thrust yourself forward. With a grunt, he doubles over in surprised pain as you take off towards the exit. You feel a tug on your sleeve, follow by a "pszzzz!" as the fabric of your clothes tears. He had reached out, in a last-ditch attempt to hinder your escape, and grabbed onto your clothes. You keep running without looking back, leaving Stanton behind with a handful of your torn outerwear.
Once outside, you dash across the parking lot, weaving between parked cars to throw him off. As you reach the opposite side of the lot next to the main road, you stop to catch your breath and glance back. Stanton was nowhere in sight. He probably didn't want to be seen chasing a young woman with a ripped garment, or hurting too badly to give chase.
You took a moment to inspect the damage to your "dress to impress" outfit. The top fabric has been torn off, exposing your bare, silky shoulders and smooth cleavage. You throw your arms across your breasts in an attempt to cover up the exposure. There's no way you can take the bus home in this condition. You reached into your pockets for your cellphone, but it was nowhere to be found. Uh oh, it must have fallen out while you were trying to get away.
How will you get home now?
