Tomb Raider: In Ruins 3 (Patreon)

“What do you want me to do?” Lara asked, swallowing hard. “Tell me and I’ll try to—try to do it.”

She steeled herself, thinking only of Sam, reminding herself that she must do anything she could to keep Sam safe. She’d risk life and limb for her—her dignity was a small enough price.

“Strip,” Larson ordered harshly.

Lara’s jaw dropped. “In front of you?” she asked, utterly stupefied.

“I don’t mean back in your dressing room, missy. Now drop those shorts. I’ve always thought you had a tight little cunt in there—let’s see how tight.”

Larson’s stony voice broke through Lara’s hesitance. She had to do what he said, that was all there was to it. She couldn’t do anything else; following orders was her only chance of escape.

Lara pulled her tanktop up over her head, then unzipped her shorts. Both garments she dropped to the floor… refusing to take any more time on her disrobing than she absolutely must.

“Now, Lara, you’re going to make me be blunt,” Larson said. “I know you hate being told what to do, so why don’t you exercise that big brain of yours and see if you can come up with what I want happening?”

Stifling a noise of total shame, Lara reached behind her to undo her bra. Her luscious breasts already strained at the tightness of her sports bra. The moment they were no longer constrained, they burst out into full view of Larson, firm and white and quavering.

Larson sucked in his breath, as did Sam. Her breasts were perfect orbs, barely sagging despite their massive heft, capped with tiny, trembling nipples that made them seem even bigger.

Lara did not allow herself to stop. She decided that she could not be shamed unless she allowed herself to be. As if she were simply undressing at the end of a long day, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slid them down off her round hips. Her pubic triangle emerged—neatly trimmed, but darkly luscious, making her lightly tanned skin seem pale the way it shone with its blackness.

“Hot damn,” Larson groaned, his leering eyes making Lara want to cover herself with her hands even though she’d promised herself not to be embarrassed. “Okay now, lie down on the floor. On your back. That’s it. Now open your legs. Show me that pretty pussy.”

Lara did as he wanted her to, sinking to the stone floor and lying flat on her back. The fine sheen of nervous sweat across her skin glistened in the indirect lightning. Her proud breasts slipped barely any down from their prominent peaking. Her flat belly rippled with hardened, twitching abs—corded as Lara tried to contain the fear and thrilling adrenaline she felt.

She thought she might just about be able to stand her forced submission to Larson, but to have Sam see it too… all her vain resistance overcome by her terrible circumstances, making her expose herself to Larson.

“Lordie, why would you ever want to hide a beauty like that? Never seen a nicer shade of pink. Wish I could paint my house that color; I’d never leave!” Larson drank in her loveliness. He didn’t look away for a second, nor did he show any sign of remorse. “Open your thighs wider. Then put your hand on that little cunt. I know you’d snap my fingers off if I even came close to touching that pretty thing, so you’re going to do it for me. Get yourself all nice and hot while I watch.”

Even Lara’s self-restraint could not handle the thought of this. She blushed right to the roots of her hair. “You’re an animal, Larson. You know I’ll kill you for this.”

“Maybe so. Guess I’d better enjoy myself enough to make it all worthwhile. Now get on with it. A high-toned gal like you never can find anyone worth letting down your precious self-regard, now can you? Bet you’ve got more gadgets than an electronics store, just to keep you satisfied when you won’t let a man do it for you. This ain’t nothing you’ve not done before, Lady Croft. So why be embarrassed now? I know if I looked good as you do, I’d be touching myself just all the time.”

Lara was mortified—he knew damned well why she was embarrassed. His continued insistence that this was all nothing more than a game was infuriating. It was sadism, really. He was violating her with every word, every look, every moment he made her follow his commands.

She looked all the way down her lean body to the rise of her mound… the exposed lips of her cunt, the humid air of the crypt wafting gently through her pubic fluff. Touching her with its emptiness instead of the security of her panties or even the coarse firmness of her shorts.

Lara gulped and reached down with her middle finger out, her face shiny with sweat, her cheeks flushed despite herself. Slowly, she ran her finger up the moist little slot between her labia. Down to the gently quivering valley between her buttocks, where her tiny asshole was nestled, and up to the tightly ovalled entrance to her sex. Higher, to the bud of her clit.

She didn’t expect to feel anything, but the moment her fingernail grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves, she felt a shock of sexual passion twist through her. Lara was wrenched by an uncontrollable tide of need.

Her eyes shot to Sam… safe to assume Larson was paying no attention to her face for the moment… and she saw a look on Sam’s face far from pity. Lara trembled with a kind of fear. If Sam couldn’t avoid sharing in this depraved, licentious passion—she wondered how she could resist it.

She couldn’t take Larson telling her again to masturbate and so Lara continued to touch herself, her legs bent wide. Her sex quickly grew used to being played with… her pink lips glistening with dewdrops of arousal… an odd flame tingled in Lara’s belly. She argued with herself: it wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t desire. But Larson kept looking at her and she couldn’t help but be infected by the carnality with which he savored every facet of her naked body.

Larson was breathing hard, the sight of Lara’s lush young body while she fingered herself driving his prick into wild stiffness. Without moving his eyes an iota from her titillated cunt, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants.

Lara paused in her self-pleasure, even though her pussy was hot and quivering, begging for her to keep going. Through lust-ridden eyes she saw how big Larson was, his blue-veined cock rigid with hot blood. She shuddered with expectant horror, wondering how it would feel inside her, then remembering there was no way Larson could get it into her. Not with him out there and her in here.

Still, a surge of debauched desire streamed through her at the thought. She resolved to use it, not to let herself be ashamed by it. Lara worked her fingers faster along her wetly pulsing cunt, readying it to be entered. A new lasciviousness overran her dizzy mind as she looked boldly at Larson, observing him stroking his cock as avidly as he was watching her.

It scintillated her to see him pumping his hand up and down, his foreskin shucking over his engorged cockhead and then being forced back down to his straining shaft.

Larson stepped up to the gateway cordoning them off from each other and drove his cock through the spyhole in it. Lara could see every grain, every pore of his sizable cock emerging from his space into hers like she was manning a glory hole.

“Now put it in your mouth, Lady Croft. Get that big thing in your mouth and suck it until I’m done being sucked.”

Lara let out a shocked mewl. She couldn’t do that, even after all this, she couldn’t debase herself that much… have that massive prick in her mouth, taste it on her tongue, feel it burst with sperm… no! She was a Croft!

Larson continued as if she weren’t frantically shaking her head. “And don’t try to do anything nasty with my John Thomas. I had a little camera recording all while you put on your little show. I’d like to keep that performance to yourself, but you get funny with those pearly whites, I’ll send it straight to TMZ.”

“You bastard! You utter reprobate!” Lara fumed. “I should skin you alive for even thinking these foul, disgusting—"

“You have until the count of five,” Larson said. “One.”

Lara took a deep breath and forced calm. She couldn’t do this. Not in front of Sam. Already, her best friend must think she was crazy for going along with this awful man. She’d probably end up calling Lara a nymphomaniac if she went through with this indignity.