Harem in a zombie apocalypse

[75] The hunter becomes the hunted

The mood in the car was tense, the air thick with the unspoken promise of what was to come. The men's laughter was crude, their comments lewd, adding to the discomfort we all felt. Yet, we stayed silent, endured it, knowing that any retaliation at this point would only worsen our predicament.

Upon reaching the cabin, a pitiful excuse for a home, the men wasted no time in dictating their demands. A command to strip echoed in the room, a guttural growl that made the hairs on the back of our necks stand up. An icy chill ran down my spine as I removed my clothes, stripping down to my underwear, my movements slow and deliberate. The others followed suit, their faces betraying a mix of fear and defiance.

Once we were down to our underwear, we obediently sat down on the worn-out, creaky sofa. The man next to me reached over and his hand began to roam on my body, each touch more inappropriate than the last. His foul breath wafted over me, making me cringe inwardly. I felt my stomach churn, the nausea threatening to overcome me.

"Can you...please slow down?" I asked, my voice deliberately shaky, an attempt to appear scared, vulnerable. "This is...a bit too fast paced for me."

His hand stilled on me, and he laughed, a sickening chuckle that echoed in the cabin. "What, are you a virgin or something?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I could feel the other men's eyes on us, their hushed whispers and stifled laughter adding to the humiliation. But I ignored them, focused only on the man in front of me, his cruel, taunting face.

I gulped, putting on a display of fear, "I...I just need a bit more time to...get comfortable, you know?" I stammered, trying to buy us some time, trying to prolong the inevitable.

His laughter died down and he looked at me, studying me with a predatory gaze. After what felt like an eternity, he shrugged, removing his hand from my body, a smirk playing on his lips. "Alright, virgin boy. I'll play nice. For now."

As the room filled with uncomfortable tension, one of the men settled next to Cassidy, his eyes roaming over her body with a predatory gleam. He reached out to grope her, his meaty fingers curling around her firm breast. "Why are your breasts so hard, girl?" he slurred, a cruel grin spread across his face, his stinking breath washing over her.

Cassidy, however, remained unmoving, a cool smirk playing on her lips. "A girl has her secrets," she replied, her voice soft, seductive, in stark contrast with the threat that was about to unfold.

Before the man could fully comprehend her words, Cassidy's hand quickly shot into her sports bra. There was a collective gasp in the room, a collective holding of breath as her hand emerged with a small pocket knife, glinting menacingly in the dim light.

With a swift movement, Cassidy grabbed the man by his greasy hair and pulled his head back, holding the knife dangerously close to his throat. The room fell silent, the earlier joviality quickly replaced with fear and surprise.

"I suggest you keep your filthy hands to yourself," she said, her voice a deadly whisper, her eyes glinting with cold fury. "Or you might lose them."

The man gulped, his eyes wide with terror as he felt the cool blade against his skin. His buddies, once so boisterous and confident, sat frozen, their smiles replaced with shock. They stared at the knife, at the steel resolve in Cassidy's eyes, and for the first time, they realized they might have bitten off more than they could chew.

Q: Would you attempt something like this if you were in a zombie apocalypse?