Thrilling Rape Fantasies - Illustrated

CHAPTER ONE

Alison returns to a modern office tower in a big city after running out to buy office supplies for her boss. It is becoming dusk, perhaps seven or eight o'clock in the evening, and she has been told that she will have to work late tonight to help prepare some big presentation for tomorrow. Her high-heeled footsteps echo in the half-darkened lobby as she crosses it to get into an empty elevator.

Before the doors can close a big muscular black guy dressed in a gangsta rap t shirt, baggy jeans and sneakers who appears to be a messenger arrives and gets into the elevator with her, glaring at her silently as the sexy young blonde unconsciously shrinks away into the back corner. His name is Leroy and he reeks of sweat and carries some sort of satchel. She, on the other hand, looks cool as a cucumber even in the smoldering august heat and moves in a waft of perfume… something light and floral.

Alison is one of those perfectly-groomed and immaculately made-up receptionist types you meet in the waiting rooms of large corporations. She is about twenty and obviously much impressed with the money and power and status of big business and the corporate lifestyle. Although she is very attractive and seemingly self-possessed, Alison has a secret. Deep down in her guts there is always a tight knot of anxiety, a kind of nameless dread and feeling of emptiness that nothing can ever seem to penetrate. Perhaps this is why she affects such an air of icy indifference and hauteur.

Although Alison doesn't realize it, not being gifted with much talent for introspection, she has built a wall around herself and her feelings that keeps her from being able to experience any real love or tenderness. To make up for this, she has experienced a long series of superficial relationships, picking up and discarding boyfriends as she quickly becomes bored and/or disappointed in them or their usefulness to her ends, never really knowing what it is she is looking for. Through it all she has remained coldly manipulative, using her sex and good looks as a weapon, a way of getting attention and achieving status.

Basically she is a shallow, vacuous and greedy bitch who confuses material possessions and status with inner happiness, being too fearful to open herself up to real feeling. Sometimes she wishes vaguely for a man who will be strong enough to somehow break through her defenses and rescue her from her self-imposed sense of isolation, but whenever she meets someone the same thing happens… the more they seem to like her and the nicer they treat her the more contemptuous she feels until it reaches a point where she can't stand to be around them any more.

Alison knows she's no intellectual… she'll never win the Nobel Prize or find the cure for cancer. Her tastes in reading are pretty much confined to fashion and celebrity magazines and lurid romance novels. The only purpose for her life she has been able to find so far has been to come to the big city, find herself a rich husband, and retire to devote the rest of her life to spending his money. The idea of having to care for children fills her with dread.

Maybe that's because her own family life was so fucked up. After her father's suicide when she was eight, her mother turned to Jesus, becoming more and more harshly puritanical and weird… As Alison flowered into graceful young womanhood, her mother's disapproval of her developing sexuality became more and more extreme. By the time she was nineteen and had graduated from secretarial school she couldn't wait to leave their barren household and look for a job and an apartment in the city.

Despite her mother's imprecations, Alison enjoys being feminine and is very much aware of the desire she arouses in men. On this muggy late summer evening she's wearing a light and sheer pink floral print dress, which ends around mid-thigh, and high-heeled strappy sandals with brightly painted toenails peeking out. Above her white thigh-high stockings her sheer high cut nylon panties cling damply to the extra-sensitive lips of her recently-shaved mound. The new bathing suit her roommate/girlfriend Fiona dared her to buy on their weekend shopping trip was so revealing that almost all her hair "down there" had to go.

Fiona is a petite, stacked little brunette with a sensual look. The very night before she had wound up tonguing Alison to orgasm after helping her shave her bikini line. The young blonde hadn't meant for that to happen… it must have been those couple of joints they smoked. They were certainly much stronger than anything she ever tried before… now she kind of wonders what was in them. Fiona seems kind of kinky and she appears to get a lot of presents from men. Sometimes at night when her roommate is entertaining a gentleman caller, Alison hears the sounds of flesh being struck and moaning and whimpering from the other room, but the other girl always seems perfectly serene the next morning, without visible marks or bruises, so she just turns up the volume on the TV and tries to ignore it. Still, the memory gives her a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach…

The fact is, her roommate is a shameless little slut who brings home a different thug every night and does IV drugs. If you look carefully you can see the lines of tracks along her pussy lips and on her inner thighs. But enough about her for now, except to say that she plans to help her goody-goody friend Alison to liberate herself from the constraints of conventional morality and that she keeps a fine collection of sexy underwear, corsets, and enema bags on hand. Not to mention handcuffs, whips and chains. Not that Alison is aware of any of this as yet.

Fiona works as a "personal assistant" to Mr. Slate, the CEO of the large construction and realty business where Alison has now taken a position as a receptionist. She befriended Alison when the girl first started working there a month ago and soon took the young blonde in as a roommate, offering her a very favorable deal on the rent and enabling her to get out of the stodgy ladies' hotel where she had been staying. They have a beautiful ultra-modern furnished apartment in a luxurious high-rise, all chrome and glass and with a nice view from the terrace, although the place is decorated like a whorehouse, rather overdone with lace and frills, mirrored ceilings, etc. Unbeknownst to Alison, the whole place is wired with concealed video cameras and actually belongs to Slate Industries. Already Mr. Slate has hundreds of hours of tape of the comely blonde undressing, going to the bathroom, bathing and even having occasional perfunctory sex with her latest boyfriend.

Alison is of medium height, about 5'4" but built very slender in the shoulders and joints, with maybe a 22 inch waist. She weighs in around 110 pounds. In spite of this her tits are nice and full, like maybe a 34D. They look even bigger on such a small frame. She has a butt like a thoroughbred race horse… high and firm but full and rounded. Her skin is pale translucent ivory, her long hair streaky ash blonde, and her oval face is at once innocent and aristocratic. In short, she's a walking Barbie doll and she knows it. Her make-up and nails are always immaculate, and she always looks refined and fresh as a daisy, even in this sweltering august heat. Long dangly earrings hang from her multiply-pierced ears, something else her kinky roommate talked her into doing on their trip to the mall. The two new studs she wears in each ear still hurt a little, but she has to admit there is something kind of exciting about the act of being pierced… something symbolic that makes her feel sexy when she thinks about it. Fiona already has a ring in her belly button… who knows what's next.

So anyway Alison knows she's a knockout and takes a certain pride in all the attention she gets from men, although sometimes it embarrasses or even scares her, like when the construction workers on the way to her office shout obscene remarks and suggestions at her. The sexy young blonde even has a new boyfriend, a young junior-accountant type named Tom, who also works for Slate Industries. A clean-cut young man who takes her out to dinners and shows and always treats her respectfully. She even lets him fuck her once a week or so, although sometimes she wishes he weren't so overeager and anxious to please. Maybe that's why sex with him is a little less passionate than she might like. She kind of thinks of him as a cute puppy dog. Sometimes she wishes he were more like her boss, Mr. Slate.

Mr. Slate is a kind of well-fed shark who walks with an air of determination and authority and is known to be very demanding. You can just feel the aggression oozing from his pores. Alison has seen him to be ruthless, even cruel, in his business dealings and his handling of subordinates, but that doesn't bother her. The little cutie lives in awe of her boss, who she actually has kind of a secret crush on. As a matter of fact, lately she's been wearing sexier outfits to the office, hoping that this sleekly mature and sophisticated man will notice her. As if someone as important as he would even take the time to talk to an insignificant little receptionist. She envisions him taking her out to a fancy dinner in an elegant limousine. She gets goosebumps imagining him kissing her. The hot-looking blonde rationalizes this by thinking that she's just trying to advance her career, and her roommate seems to encourage her. So anyway, Alison has gone out of her way to wear something enticing today both to impress her boss and because she has a date with her boyfriend after work. She thinks her plan is working, because she noticed Mr. Slate giving her the once-over as she sat in front of him in his office earlier this afternoon flirtatiously crossing and uncrossing her long legs as he gave her instructions. His unwaveringly appraising stare finally forced her to look away, blushing.

Dorian Slate, born Domenico Spalluto, is the son of Sicilian immigrants who grew up in the East Bronx, where his father was a typical hard-working stonemason. Although not actually a made member of the mafia, Slate is as they say connected, through his father's pals in the corrupt building trades unions and his own friends and partners in various crimes and hustles he was involved in when he was just another tough guinea growing up in the neighborhood. He has used his connections and his own scheming driving ambition to carve out a prominent niche in the big city real estate and construction business. The construction company is just one of many mob-influenced ventures… he's got his fingers in a lot of pies. Nightclubs, concrete and building materials, labor racketeering, drugs… One look at his face and you can tell instantly that he would not hesitate to kill anyone that got in his way. He is a guy who has fought and clawed his way to the top of the heap with a combination of ruthlessness and cunning, and knows where a few bodies are buried along the way. Although he is very smooth, capable of appearing relaxed and genial, he has the flat black eyes and thousand-yard stare of a professional assassin. Alison thinks of it as a penetrating gaze. His coldly superior demeanor makes her feel uncharacteristically self-conscious in his presence. Sometimes she feels as though he can see right through her clothes, leaving the usually self-possessed young woman feeling awkwardly naked and defenseless. A not entirely unpleasant sensation, given her feelings for the darkly handsome older man.

Right now, as she stands towards the back of the elevator, the lovely blonde wishes that her little nippies didn't jut quite so provocatively against the flimsy fabric of her summer dress. Just thinking of them seems to make them harden involuntarily. She holds the package she is carrying up in front of herself protectively.

Reflexively straightening herself up and trying to look composed, the young lady stares at the ceiling, the floor, anyplace but at the big sweaty muscular black guy standing two feet in front of her. He glares at her insolently and she feels his eyes unabashedly ogling her as he licks his big slobbery lips and suggestively rubs his crotch. She stares icily into space. He turns and pushes the button for the twenty-third floor and Alison's heart sinks. They are both going to the same place. She had hoped he would be getting out before her.

Alison wishes someone else would show up to break the tension, but no one does and finally the elevator doors slide silently shut. She studies the guy's face surreptitiously in the circular mirror over their heads, noting the long jagged scar running down his cheek, probably a souvenir of some back-alley knife fight. At the corner of his left eye are two blue tears, tattooed there in memory of fellow gang members killed in a drive-by. At least now the elevator is finally moving. It goes up fifteen or twenty stories or so, then suddenly grinds to a stop in between floors with a lurch that throws them both to the floor together. He lands on top of her on the floor of the elevator, scattering her packages around. She is uncomfortably aware of his knee pressed between her thighs against her belly where her dress has ridden up, and of his crushing weight on top of her and his hot breath in her face.

For a few seconds, nobody moves. Gradually, the pretty blonde realizes that instead of getting off of her he is in fact rubbing his crotch against her and she feels his massive dick beginning to get hard.

Grimacing in fear and disgust, she rakes his face with her polished pink fingernails and tries to struggle to her feet and make a lunge for the alarm button. She pushes it and…. Nothing happens! She feels a meaty hand on her shoulder, spinning her around and… WHAMMO!

Alison falls to the ground, seeing stars. He has cuffed her hard upside the head, stunning her. Tears spring to her eyes as her lips start trembling uncontrollably. No one has ever hit her like this before and she reacts like a little girl. Alison realizes that maybe she made a big mistake getting physical with this guy. A guy who has no inhibitions about hitting women, not some love-sick teenager in the back of a car. A guy to whom violence comes as naturally as breathing.

He stands over her breathing hard, his dark eyes snappy with hate. A thin trickle of blood runs down his cheek where she clawed him. "Mutha fuggin bitch… you shouldn't oughta done that." He quickly squats down on top of her, pinning her to the floor as he pulls a long blade from out of his pants pocket and snaps it open in front of her. "Now you gots to shut the fuck up and do what I say, or I'll have to cut out one of those pretty blue eyes… you got that, you snotty little twat?" He runs the sharp tip of the blade over her soft downy cheek, making her tremble. She nods silently, still blubbering. He picks up the package she had dropped on the floor of the elevator. Inside, along with some staples and other office shit, he finds a couple rolls of package sealing tape. Just what he needs. He grabs her slender wrists and tapes them together in front of her, winding the tape around and around four or five times good and tight, then bringing a loop up in between and tying it off so there's no wiggle room.

At this point, Alison realizes that she is probably going to be raped, if not worse. Starting to recover her wits, she pleads with him not to tie her, telling him she'll cooperate if he just doesn't hurt her any more, etc. He slaps her in the face, giving her a fat lip. "You don't lissen too good… Didn't I just tell you to shut the fuck up? One more word and I'll tape your fucking mouth shut." Now that he has her hands securely bound, he roughly hoists the girl to her feet and stands her up in the center of the elevator, raising her hands up over her head. Alison struggles to keep silent as he takes more tape and fastens her wrists to the light fixture over her head, pulling it so tightly so that she has to rise up on tiptoes. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he likes the way this position makes her breasts thrust forward and her back arch slightly. She too notices the way her magnificent tits are thrusting against the thin fabric of her dress as if begging for attention. Her throat is knotted with fear and anguish. "Dass better…" he says, "Gots to keep you bitches under control." He grabs her full thrusting boobs and mauls them savagely as she hangs there, making her writhe and gasp. Not content with this, he thrusts his big hard hand down between her legs, roughly squeezing and fondling her warm damp softness through the sheer fabric of her silky panties. The terrified blonde shrieks and tries to squeeze her legs together, but a single fierce look from her tormentor convinces her to give it up. She hangs there limply, her knees shaking so badly she can hardly stand as he toys with her, keeping up a chorus of invective all the while. "Mutha fuggin hot bitch twat… snotty ass fuckin cunt…" etc. etc.

After a minute or two he gets bored with feeling her up, picks up her handbag and empties it out on the floor of the elevator. All her personal stuff is laid out there. First he cleans out her purse, taking all the money and credit cards and learning her name, address and phone number. "It sez here youse a receptionist, huh baby? Thass great cause you gonna give a nice reception to this here big black dick." In a separate little zippered pouch he finds her diaphragm and jelly kit, along with some condoms, cute colored ones with ribs and shit. The sexy young blonde burns with humiliation as he inspects these items. "Planning on getting fucked tonight, were you, sweet cheeks? Good thing you remembered to pack some lube… It'll make it easier getting my Jim Johnson up your little pink asshole. I fucked me some faggots up there in the joint, but now I gots me some fine tight bitch ass."

When Alison hears this she totally panics and starts begging him again; " Please don't do that I'll do anything you'll kill me I never did that before I couldn't stand it" etc. etc. "Didn't I just tell you to shut the fuck up?!!" he screams. "So far I only told you to do one thing and you can't even do that!" He comes toward her with the knife in his hand. At this point the bound blonde loses it completely and wets herself in fear. The warm urine runs down her stockinged legs and forms a puddle on the floor. "Fucking bitch you pissed youself!" he laughs as she whimpers in shame. "I ain't gonna cut you… at least not yet." He takes the knife and deftly slits the shoulder straps of her dress and bra. The girl's full rounded breasts spring free as he rips them off and tramples them on the urine-soaked floor. As he bends down and pulls her panties down and off she starts struggling and kicking. Another mistake. "Fuckin bitch you just don't get it!" he growls. "Now I'm gonna have to whip your ass!" He grabs her cunt through the piss-soaked panties and pulls and twists on her pussy lips until she whimpers in submission. "Don't make me hurt you, bitch… this up till now was just fun and games."

Pulling the urine-soaked panties off her legs and wadding them up in his hand he forces them between her full bright pink lips and into her mouth as she gasps for breath, tears running down her cheeks. He then takes some more tape and wraps it around her face, stuffing them in there tightly. Now she'll shut up. Alison now hangs there effectively bound and gagged, reduced to making little meeping noises through her nose and tasting the salty tang of her own piss in her mouth. Never in her life has she felt so completely helpless. She pants for breath, her nostrils flaring. Now Leroy can examine her naked cunt at leisure. He squats down and sticks his face in there, forcing her legs apart with his powerful arms and shoulders, admiring the smoothness of her freshly shaved pussy lips. Just a little tuft of hair is left above her mound. With surprising gentleness he strokes her, working a finger up between her inner lips to fondle her clit. The sexy blonde secretary gasps as electrifying messages run up her spine and make her buck her hips involuntarily. "Like that, huh?" he sneers. He teases her clit like that for a few minutes, gradually working a finger, then two inside her as her pussy begins to moisten itself defensively. When he's got her good and juicy, he takes another finger and slowly starts corkscrewing it up into her tight and hairless pink rectum. Alison writhes in her bondage, totally controlled by the fingers impaling her from beneath, now wearing only her stockings and high heels. She is mortified to realize that she is lubricating herself for him, his thick bony fingers squelching in and out of her more and more easily now… Not since she was a little girl has anything invaded her backside, and the sensation brings back childlike feelings of dependence and submission, unwanted in this new context. She tries to shake it off, to get herself together mentally. After a moment, her tormentor realizes that she is no longer responding to him and stands up again.

"Bitch, you be havin too much fun." He says. "I done promised you a whippin and now you gonna get it." He takes some more tape and wraps it around her trim ankles, binding them tightly. "Now try to kick…" he says. She hangs there totally immobilized as he steps back and pulls his wide black leather belt from his pants. He doubles it up and cracks it on his hand a few times with a loud smack. Just the sound of it makes the tearful blonde shake in terror. Without further ado, he lays into her backside with the heavy belt using all the strength in his muscular arm, leaving wide red welts across the cheeks of her girlish ass, which jiggles and wiggles under the pounding like jelly on a plate. After the second or third blow, Alison lets go and just starts screaming helplessly into the gag. For the young lady the next few minutes seem endless… an endless world of burning pain and punishment that goes on and on and on. When her whole butt is flaming red, with a few darkish purple streaks, he turns her around and goes to work on the front of her thighs.

By the time he is done, throwing the belt aside, Alison is a sobbing limp rag doll, all thoughts of resistance totally driven from her mind. At this point, the only thing she cares about is pleasing this evil black bastard so he doesn't beat her any more. He holds her chin in his hand, looking into her tear-streaked face as black streaks of mascara run down her cheeks. "I don't think I'm gonna have any more trouble from you now, am I, you uppity little twat?" The girl shakes her head no. "You wanna blow me?" he asks her. She nods vociferously… anything as long as he stops whipping her. "Well, you'll get your chance." He says, "But first we gonna have us a little party."

Going into his messenger bag, he pulls out a small glass vial with a tiny spoon attached, full of a sparkling white powder. First he does a couple of toots himself, peeling off his jeans in between snorts, his eyes lighting up with fiendish excitement as the powerful drugs take hold. It's a special blend of stimulants and hypnotics… something similar to extasy or MDNA. His cock springs forth in all its glory, a good twelve inches long and as thick as Alison's slender wrist, getting harder by the minute. He jerks on it a little, rubbing it on her welts, smacking it against her tender backside. He reaches up and peels the tape from the blonde's face, finally allowing her to spit out the piss-soaked panties. "You done sucked all the juice out of these motherfuckers…" he grins as she lowers her eyes in shame. At least now she can breathe. "You ain't gonna make no more fuss, now, is you?" She shakes her head to say no, afraid to speak. "Here take a couple hits of this here shit…" he says, holding a spoonful of stuff up to her nose. "You ain't gonna refuse my hospitality now, is you? You want me to go get my belt?" The lovely blonde realizes that she has no choice but to take the drugs. Obediently, she closes her eyes and sniffs hard, the white powder disappearing up her nose.

The first jolt hits her like an electric shock, burning into the back of her brain and numbing the pain of her whipped ass and her tortured arms and shoulders. The second spoonful makes her heart pound in her chest while sending a warm soothing rush up and down her spine, making her suddenly relax in her bonds, her terror strangely undercut now by a growing excitement. The third hit seems to go directly to her clit, making it ache and stand up at attention as she suddenly realizes once again her naked helplessness and the fact that she is about to be brutally raped. She turns the word over in her mind, staring with mixed emotions at the big black cock in front of her. Now she wishes that Leroy would untie her legs. Her head is swimming and she's stoned out of her mind, her mouth open as she breathes heavily, feeling an aching fullness in her belly and a restless tingling in her clit… the need for orgasm. Now she finds herself wishing he would touch her there again. Passively she watches him pull the tape from her ankles. Alison gasps as he stands up to kiss her, opening her mouth to let him stick his tongue down her throat and moaning as he fondles her hairless pussy with his big hands. Could she actually be enjoying this? She feels her own inner wetness, her whole body trembling with need. Somehow the fear that knots in her belly only makes it more deliciously exciting for her… She thinks vaguely that she must be out of her mind. Somehow the anger and resentment she should be feeling at this treatment has been swept aside in a rising tide of… she knows not what. But now is not the time for shame and guilt… that would come later. Right now Leroy is cutting her down from the light fixture, forcing her to kneel in front of him with her wrists still tied. She knows without being told what he wants her to do next.

"Bite me and I'll knock your fuckin teeth out." He sez, holding her bound wrists up over her head with one hand and grabbing a fistful of her hair with the other. But she has no intention of biting him. Instead she licks and sucks his big black dick like a little kitten with a bowl of milk. Her tongue dances around in little circles on the underside of his mammoth manthing. Wet slurping sounds fill the elevator, along with his guttural grunts of satisfaction. Not satisfied with that kind of action, he forces more and more of his thick purplish fuckrod down her throat till her eyes are bulging and she's choking on it. She can barely stretch her lips around his thickness. Alison leans forward into it to straighten her gullet, allowing him to fuck her face, his hairy black nuts bouncing off her dimpled chin. Tears are once again streaming down her face as she gags repeatedly. This close, his cock seems even bigger than it did before, the veins standing out like ropes all over it. Does he have to be so rough? Doesn't he understand that she was trying to please him?

Meanwhile, downstairs at the security desk, Manuel the night guard is watching all of this on his closed-circuit TV monitor and drinking a cerveza. Far from being unaware of what is going on in the stalled elevator, it now appears as if all this is some sort of conspiracy of which he is but a small part. He gets on the phone to Mr. Slate in his private office upstairs, who is also observing the action on his own monitor as he sits behind his massive mahogany desk, sipping a Glenlivet. Fiona is bent over the desk to one side of him panting, her eyes fixed on the screen and her panties down around her knees as he idly toys with her twat. The security guy asks him if everything is going according to plan. Slate replies that Leroy should get a bonus for this performance. Meanwhile, a VCR whirrs in the background, taping the whole unfolding drama for future use. Manuel gets off the phone with his boss and calls in a few of his buddies from the maintenance crew to come watch the show with him and bring some more beer. Then he goes and hangs an OUT OF ORDER sign on the elevator door.

Meanwhile, back in the elevator, Leroy is getting bored with fucking Alison's face. He orders her to hum "I'm In The Mood For Love" as he slams his gristly black meat down her throat and she squirms in humiliation. "Louder, bitch!" he screams. Finally pulling out of her mouth, he slaps her across the face a few times with his super hard dick as the young woman kneels in front of him panting for breath, drool running down her chin. He finally drops her hands and picks up his little vial again, force-feeding her a couple of more hits until she looks totally spaced-out once again. He does a couple of snorts himself, getting himself good and charged up before he forces her down onto her back right in the puddle of piss there on the floor. He kneels there between the sexy blonde's legs, holding her arms up over her head with one hand and forcing her legs apart with his knees. He runs the head of his purplish organ up and down between her moist pussy lips, teasing her little love button with it and making her squirm. She is gasping and making little ih ih ih noises, her eyes closed as she reflexively spreads her legs wider, opening herself for him. He admires the contrast between the black hairiness of his cock and the pale pinkness of her shaved and extra sensitive pussy lips. He shifts position, reaching for his knife.

Alison's eyes pop open in alarm as she feels the cold steel of the switchblade laid against her, lightly working between her inner lips… "Keep those hands up over your head, bitch, or I'll have to cut you a new fuckin hole." He commands her. Mute with terror, Alison obeys. She whimpers and tries to hold very still as he toys with her, working the point of the blade slightly into her vagina and lightly stabbing her exposed clit with it again and again. The sexy blonde secretary bites her lip and winces, doing her best not to squirm. Finally, a tiny drop of blood appears. Her little man-in-the-boat is red and sore, but somehow the fear which consumes her just makes it perk up higher. She hates her body for betraying her like this but rationalizes that none of this is her fault and since she's tightly tied it's useless to try to struggle. Finally he lays the blade aside, repositioning himself between her legs with his apple-sized dickhead at her inner labia, spreading them wide. He lets it rest there a moment as she stares up at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open, abjectly waiting to be penetrated. For Alison, there's something in the sensation of being bound and helpless that makes her feel strangely free. She doesn't understand it, but never in her life has she felt more tinglingly alive and eagerly responsive to a man's touch.

With one savage thrust he buries about half of his throbbing foot-long unit in her tight little twat. She grunts loudly, her inner walls stretched to the limit by his massive thickness. In spite of the fact that she is by now well lubricated, her inner thighs damp with her secretions, it is all he can do to force it in there. Good thing force is one thing he's got plenty of. Alison's eyes close tightly as she grimaces, her lips trembling. Her hips shift as she tries to make room for this burning intruder, taking more of her weight on the small of her back, lifting her knees higher and wider to ease the uncomfortable stretching of her delicate membranes. Leroy forces her to open her eyes and look down at herself being penetrated, as he points out to her horror that there's still half his shaft to go. Already he is touching her in places where she's never been touched before. The young blonde's head is swimming in a mix of pain and pleasure, desire and revulsion as she silently thanks god for the drugs that seem to help her find it all bearable, perhaps even exciting in a strange new way.

Leroy pulls back slightly, then with a sadistic grin slams another couple of inches inside her. Alison can feel the head of his king sized dick bumping up against her dimpled cervix, and there's still plenty more to go. Again and again he slams his hips into her, forcing inch after inch of his cock in there, and she can feel him pushing aside her internal organs, stretching her inner walls until she thinks she is going to burst. She fears that he will kill her with his cock… rip her open inside. Fortunately, she has underestimated the elasticity of her internal membranes. Leroy grunts with effort as he finally stuffs his burning black unit in there to the hilt, and his belly meets her upturned pudendum with a smack. The luscious babe's eyes are rolling around in her head and she feels like she is going to faint. Her knees are all the way up to her shoulders, her feet in the air.

Once he's finally got it jammed all the way in there, he stays there a minute, grinding his belly against her hairless and barbarically stretched vulva, sending lightning bolts up her spine from her sore and throbbing clit. She moans in pleasure and pain, unsure which sensation is more intense. Then slowly he pulls back and rams himself back into her with one powerful thrust. Her eyes bulge and she gasps for breath as he starts fucking her in earnest now, sliding in and out a little more easily each time as her hardly-used vaginal walls stretch to accommodate him. "Now youse givin me a good reception…" he smirks as he pounds her faster and harder, using the full length of his dick. Wet smacking and squelching noises fill the air and mingle with her gasps, moans and whimpers and his bestial grunts. Alison closes her eyes, unable to meet his evil, leering gaze as he stares down at her, taunting her. "Yeah, you dig this kind of action, don't you, babycakes? You silly little fuckin cunt…" He bends his head down and bites down on one of her bright pink nipples, then the other, grinding them between his teeth until she thinks he's going to tear it off. The girl writhes and shudders as she tightens up around him, her inner pussy muscles working spasmodically now. He slaps her face, demanding an answer. "No… No… Nooo!" she cries but her mind and body are totally consumed with the feeling of his humongous dominating dick slamming inside her. Her words trail off to a shrill shriek as her body goes rigid and she clamps down on him like a vise, snapping off the first of many orgasms to come. Even Leroy is momentarily surprised as his dick is wrung so tightly that he can't even move it and the sobbing Alison humps herself up and down on his massive tool. She doesn't look so cool now. Her tear-stained face is twisted up in a grimace, her eyes tightly shut and her mouth hanging open, the veins on her neck all popping out.

"Beg me for it, you hot little slut!" he demands as her first orgasm fades and she relaxes momentarily around him, faint tremors still shooting through her like echoes, her legs lowering a bit. "Look me in the eye and beg for it…" he orders her again, raising his hand threateningly. Her eyelashes flutter open and she looks up at his ugly fiendish black face with total docility, his cock still embedded to the hilt in her twitching ivory white mound. "Please…" she says, "Please fuck me… fuck me… fuck me…" Never before in her life has she said those words and she rolls them around in her mind… "Fuck me hard… don't stop just fuck me fuck me fuck meeeee…." Just saying the words sets her off on the way to another cum as Leroy starts pounding harder and harder into her spasming twat.

"Fuck me fuck me fuck me…" she repeats. "Please, please, please…" she pleads with him submissively. The more Alison begs him the harder he rams her, using all the force in his muscular two-hundred-pound body. SMACK SMACK SMACK his loins bounce off her wetly upturned cunt, her high heeled sandals up around her ears now as she tilts her hips up to receive him and gasps out the words in rhythm with his thrusts. One orgasm after another rips through her as her pumping pussy milks delightfully on his huge organ. Leroy lets loose with a stream of obscenities as he feels himself about to loose his load. "MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKING SHITEATING SONOFABITCH" he screams as jet after jet of white hot semen erupts from his hairy balls and splashes against the backwall of the deepest part of little Alison's twitching snatch. When she feels the burning heat of his slimy come spurting inside her, her whole body shakes convulsively in the throes of her biggest come yet, her eyes rolling up into her head as she falls into a faint, finally limp as a rag doll.

Slowly, Leroy rolls off her and sits up, happy with his handiwork. So far so good. This little twist wasn't so hard to tame. Still there's more work to be done. He pulls out his little vial and does another few snorts, recharging his batteries for what's to come. He still has an ass to fuck. Alison takes a little nap, completely unaware of the twisted plans hatching in Leroy's mind like active worms. Once he's got himself good and charged up again, Leroy takes the still dazed girl and rolls her over, ret aping her hands behind her back. The cute blonde begins to wake up, protesting groggily. Before she can say more than a few words or shake off her lethargy, he stuffs the soiled panties back in her mouth and tapes them firmly in there. Alison starts coming out of it fast now, realizing that he's not done with her yet. Her whole body feels bruised and battered, exhausted and wrung out. Emotionally she's drained and overcome with shame and mortification over what's happened to her over the last hour or so. Leroy lifts the feebly protesting girl to her feet and quickly refastens her bound wrists to the light fixture over their heads, so that she is forced to bend over at the waist with her hands up in the air behind her. Alison sways back and forth unsteadily on her still rubbery legs, struggling for balance. She can't move a muscle without ripping her shoulders out of their sockets, but it's not too painful as long as she stands perfectly still. Once again she is totally helpless. She looks at him pleadingly, begging him not to hurt her any more. Her stockings are laddered, her hair disheveled, her makeup smeared. For all that she still looks tempting, and Leroy feels his hairy black nuts begin to tighten at the thought of what he's going to do to her.

Stepping behind her, he runs his hands over the softness of her girlish ass cheeks as they quiver beneath his fingers, admiring the contrast between the paleness of her flesh and the welts his belt has left there. "MMF! MMF!" is all the protest Alison can make. He runs his hand up and down in the crack between them, kicking her legs apart to open her buttocks. "Yup, dis sure is one fine white butt…" he tells her as he kneads and squeezes it with increasing ferocity, bringing to life the marks he has left on her. The sexy secretary whimpers and shifts her weight from foot to foot but there's nothing she can do to escape this humiliating inspection. "You know what I'm gonna do now, dontcha? I'm gonna fuck you up your lily white ass!"

Alison shakes her head vehemently from side to side, her eyes opening wide in alarm. She hoped he had forgotten about all that. She certainly had. "Don't worry, cupcake…" he tells her, "I'se gonna warm you up a little first." He walks around in front of her, once again filling up a spoonful of the sparkling powdered dynamite and lifting it up under her nose… "The thing about ass fuckin' is you gots to relax." He explains… "This here shit is ganna help ya get in the mood. Now g'wan and take yer medicine like a good girl…" The luscious young girl shakes her head again violently, causing him to spill the little spoonful of drugs on the floor. No way is she taking more of that shit voluntarily. She's had enough for one day… Now that she's come back to her senses, she is overcome with shame and disgust, and just wants this ordeal to be over already…

This really pisses Leroy off. "Now look what you done you stupid cunt! I thought we had us an understanding… I gives the orders and you fuckin' do it! It looks like you need a little reminder who's the fuckin boss around here!" He angrily marches around to her backside, picking up his belt from the elevator floor where he had tossed it aside. Grabbing her around the waist with his left arm to hold her steady, he lays into her hard with the strap again, crisscrossing the welts already there with fresh set of stripes. He doesn't stop until her whole behind is once more a flaming red color and she hangs there sniveling and sobbing into her gag, a fresh cascade of tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Thass better…" he pronounces in satisfaction… "You gives me any more trouble and I's gonna carve my initials in your ass. Bitch I done give you your chance… if you won't take it in one end then you'll have to take it in the other." Reaching down between her legs from behind, he cups her twat in his hand. It is still wet with a mixture of her own secretions and his come which is oozing out of her and running down her leg. He takes this goo and rubs it around a little, working a couple of fingers into her vagina, than smearing some more on the pink button of her anus, which he prods and pokes with a thick forefinger. Taking his now wet finger away from the girl's crack, he dips it into the white powder from the vial and rubs it up between her labia, teasing her little pink pearl back into life, massaging it into her mucous membranes. Alison feels a spreading tingling and a glowing warmth start to flower between her legs, a warmth that soothes away the aching soreness in her tortured clit but still leaves it exquisitely sensitive and standing up at attention once more… Her breath catches in her throat as he takes two fingers and rams some more of the stuff up her aching twat, rubbing it around inside her. The feeling of glowing warmth spreads deeper, filling her belly and working its way up to her brain from within, narcotizing the girl's terror and disgust while leaving her nerve endings tingling. Dipping his forefinger wet with her juices once more into the drug, he massages some more of the stuff onto her coral-colored anal dot, meanwhile keeping two other fingers buried inside her cunt, holding her immobile. Alison hangs there slackly, making little squeaking noises as he slowly works his forefinger up her tight little pucker until he has an inch or so of it buried in there. He wiggles his finger around as her sphincter slowly loosens up for him and the warm tingling starts to spread up her ass.

"Yer tighter than a fuckin chicken up there…" he gloats, "This is gonna be good!" He thrusts his finger again into her cunt, coating it with slimy secretions, them smearing them around her pouting pink asshole. Dipping his finger into the powder once again, he shoves it as far as it will go up her loosening rear entrance, working it around inside her in and out, rubbing it into her squishy internal membranes, now slick with her own juices and anal mucosa. Again and again he repeats this procedure, working more drugs into he young blonde's defenseless rectum until he penetrates her smoothly and easily, without pain or resistance. Wet squishing sounds fill the air, interspersed with Leroy's heavy breathing and little meeps and squeaks from Alison. She is past thinking about anything now, her eyes closed and her mouth hanging open slackly, aware only of the sensation of his fingers so high up in her ass and pussy spreading liquid warmth deep inside her, controlling her totally. Her vagina and asshole milk submissively on the hard bony fingers impaling her… its nice, so nice to hang there like a piece of meat while a sadistic black rapist shoves powerful narcotics up her ass… A feeling of relaxed contentment suffuses the innocent-looking little cutie, shot through with bolts of excitement that coil in her belly, building. Her whole being is now concentrated right there at the opening to her behind as he pushes another finger inside her, stretching her, working further up inside her until it's buried up to the knuckles. She pushes back against them, feeling a craving somewhere deep inside her somewhere deeper, deeper than his fingers can reach. Totally forgotten now are the pain of her savage whipping, the ache in her arms and shoulders, the rawness of her well-fucked cunt. Never in her wildest imaginings did she think she could feel so good… so totally feminine and receptive. Even the slightly painful stretching sensation in her anus seems to blend perfectly with the ache of desire deep inside her.

Meanwhile, down in the security office, Manuel and a few of his cronies from the maintenance crew are gathered around the TV monitor enjoying the show and keeping up a running commentary. They're a bunch of blue-collar motherfuckers, and there's not one of them that wouldn't like to be in Leroy's place. They pass a few joints around and swill their beer, happy to see one of these snotty little office twats get hers, knowing that this is as close as they will probably ever get. Upstairs in Slate's office, Fiona is now stretched out face-down over the boss' desk as Slate works a large butt plug up her well-fleshed ass while sipping his single-malt scotch and watching the monitor impassively.

Back in the elevator, Leroy pulls his fingers out of Alison with an audible pop. Suddenly she feels empty, but not for long. Grabbing the girl's diaphragm jelly from the floor, he unscrews the cap and squeezes out a large dollop onto her quivering anal pore, stuffing it inside her with his finger. Then he takes another blob of goo and smears it over his rampant erection, jerking on it for a few seconds to make sure it's at maximum hardness. Then stepping up behind her, he lays it between the blonde's buttocks with a meaty thwack. It reaches up to the small of her back. Leroy lets her feel the length of it for a minute, imagining just how far up inside her it will go. Then, fisting his throbbing member in one hand, he slides it down her crack till it comes to rest at her puckered rear entrance. Looking down at himself, it seems for a moment impossible that her could force such a large object into such a tiny hole. Reaching around her hips with his other hand, he insinuates a finger between her pussy lips to stroke her clit. When he does this, Alison involuntarily rises up on her toes, pushing her backside against him. As he feels the warmth of her sensitive anal passage against the head of his dick, he is seized by a savage determination.

Pulling her tightly against him with his other hand, he shoves with a steadily mounting pressure, prying her open till the head of his throbbing unit is wedged tightly inside her opening. The hot clinging wetness of he inner membranes on his knob almost makes him swoon. Pulling back slightly, he lunges with all his strength and the head of his shaft pops inside her straining sphincter to the softness within. He feels like his dick is being squeezed by a powerful fist. Alison's eyes pop wide open and a fresh cascade of tears pours down her cheeks as she shrieks into her gag. "Easy, baby… easy…" he tells her. "The hard part is over." He goes back to stroking her clit as the luscious blonde gradually relaxes and adjusts to his incredible thickness, still whimpering and sniveling, sure that he has ripped her open back there. Her hairless pink rectum is stretched tight as a bowstring around him. As soon as the convulsive clenching of her sphincter muscles eases a bit, Leroy rams another couple of inches inside her. Alison sees flashes of light behind her tightly closed eyes, her nostrils flaring wildly. She's well and truly buggered now… there's no way she's gonna push him back out.

Again and again he pulls back a tiny bit, only to stuff another couple of inches up the girl's trembling rear, timing his thrusts to the stroking of her clit. The natural peristaltic action of her insides trying to expel this burning intrusion caresses his shaft delightfully. Alison moves her hips in little circles, trying to ease the terrible pressure she feels within, but this just causes him to sink deeper and deeper as she feels her inner walls straightening and stretching to make way for him. Strangely, the deeper he pushes within her the less she feels the pain of the initial penetration. Inexorably he shoves aside her internal organs, causing her to feel sick to her stomach as he finally sinks his manmeat to the hilt inside her churning ass guts. Never in her short life has Alison felt so totally stuffed with hot cockmeat. Her eyes are bulging out of her head. Her ruined sphincter has finally given up its struggle and eased its grip, allowing him more freedom of movement. He rests there for a moment, not moving, savoring the sensation of her inner bowels throbbing and clenching around his shaft. "Now I got you where I want you, you foxy little slut…"

Gradually, Alison's body relaxes again as she accustoms herself to the trauma of being sodomized for the first time and the drugs swimming through her blood stream begin to take hold of her mind again, blotting out the pain she feels inside. She is sure he has opened wounds inside her with his rampaging cock, but somehow the ache is fading, merging with a delicious feeling of fullness and a wild crazy excitement. Leroy strokes her clit again and she can't keep herself from moaning through her tears, pressing herself against his hand. "Dass better, baby… You gonna love dis…" Slowly he pulls back out of her until only a few inches are left inside. She feels like he's going to drag her ass guts out with him, turning her inside out. Her coral-colored anal membranes are pulled in and out, clinging to him. Gradually, smoothly he forces his hefty tool back into her depths to he root, giving her the full length of it now inch by inch as the girl's pussy pulsates madly in his grip. He goes at her again, more forcefully this time, as bit by bit she opens herself for him, rising up on her toes to straighten her back passage, wiggling her ivory white buttocks against his hairy black belly, straining against the tape that binds her. "Yeah baby, you takin' it real sweet now…" He lets go of her clit to grab her by the hips, forcing her down on it as he fucks her harder and faster now. Alison grunts and whinnies pathetically, reduced to a more-or-less mindless fucktoy.

SHTUCKA SHTUCKA SHTUCKA SHTUCKA he pounds into her ferociously, giving the curvy young babe the whole twelve inches on every thrust as she surrenders to him completely, totally violated, totally dominated. Her inner ass muscles spasm beserkly as a crushing orgasm flowers somewhere deep in her bowels. I'm coming up my ass… I'm coming up my ass… she marvels to herself, in a moment of lucidity. Am I some kind of masochist? He moves easily within her now, her adorable tush bucking and grinding against him. Faster and harder, faster and harder… SHTUCKASHTUCKASHTUCKASHTUCKASHTUCKA he gives it to her with everything he's got. Leroy's big black balls tighten as he holds her hips in a white-knuckled death grip, forcing her down harder on the root of his tool, grunting like a lust-crazed wart hog. His organ twitches insanely as it spurts hot jism deep inside her colon, bathing her insides with cum and whipping it into a froth. When she feels his hot come shooting up her ass, Alison sees rockets going off behind her eyes, her whole body shaking convulsively as she clamps down on his dick like a vise, mewling like a cat in heat. "Yeah, baby… I done told you ass fuckin is the best…" Leroy gloats as his cock slowly deflates within her, the girl's spasms subsiding till she hangs there limply, totally exhausted and spaced out. His now limp dick pops out of her with a plup, along with a gush of pinkish ass-goo. There's a crust of dried blood around lthe base of his cock, which drips with stinky slime.

Walking around to her face, Leroy rips the tape off her mouth and removes the stifling panty gag. Alison's mouth hangs open, panting. "You want me to cut you down now, bitch?" She nods her assent. "Then lick me clean!" he demands. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Alison nevertheless sets to work, licking and slurping on his slimy fuckrod as he shoves it into her mouth, ever mindful of the knife he holds in his hand and the welts on her tender tush. Mortified beyond belief, she wonders how she'll ever be able to look at herself in the mirror again. Every part of her body aches, and a dark-brown taste lingers in the back of her throat as the little cutie licks her own crusted blood and shit from the base of his dick. Finally, when his flaccid unit is shining clean and wet with her spittle, he pulls back and tucks it into his pants. "Good job, bitch… you're hired," he laughs. Then he reaches up with his knife and cuts the tape that fastens her to the light fixture. The young woman collapses in a heap on the dirty floor, her wrists still taped together behind her. Taking a magic marker from out of his bag, he scrawls LEROY WAS HERE across her lacerated butt cheeks, then packs up his stuff, getting ready to leave.

A few moments later, the elevator lurches to life with a jerk, heading back down to the ground floor. "Remember, I know your name and where you live, sweetcakes…" Leroy reminds the half-conscious girl. "Don' you be sayin nuthin to the cops, or I'll have to send some of my homies to come visit you again…" Actually at this moment, calling the police is the last thing on Alison's mind. The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open into the darkened and deserted lobby. It is now getting quite late. "See ya… wouldn't want to be ya…" he sez, jauntily sauntering out the door and into the hot August night.

Alison huddles there on the filthy floor, waiting a few minutes to make sure he's really gone. She's too exhausted to even scream. "Help me…" she croaks weakly, "Oh God somebody please help me…" Upstairs in his office suite, Dorian Slate smiles in grim satisfaction, zipping up his pants. "You better get down there and take her home…" he tells Fiona, who is straightening out her clothing as she licks his come from her lips. "Show's over."

Manuel the security guy is the first to arrive on the scene, closely followed by a couple of his mop-swinging pals. 'Jeeze, lady… what happened?" he asks her, oozing fake solicitousness and concern. "We had some kind of a power failure… were you stuck in the elevator all this time? Did somebody do something to you?" He pulls the tape from her wrists, finally freeing her hands, and helps her to sit up in a corner of the elevator, still half naked. She does her best to cover herself with the ripped and trampled remains of her dress as he shoos his ogling, smirking compadres away. "G'wan, geddadahere ya bums… can't ya see this lady's been molested?" Alison tells him to call upstairs and get help. Fiona and Mr. Slate are already on their way. Manuel asks her if he should call the police, or an ambulance. The battered blonde thinks about it for a moment, but the idea of having to tell her story to a bunch of leering detectives is not very appealing. She feels unimaginably disgusted and degraded, and just wants to get away, far far away. Besides, what are the chances they would ever catch the guy? Even if they did she doubts if she could testify against him in court. Having to relive the whole experience over and over again would be just too much… Not to mention what would happen if the newspapers got ahold of it, printed her picture, etc.etc. She would never be able to live it down. No thanks. "Just get me home…" she asks.

Fiona shows up with Slate right behind her, covering

Alison with a raincoat, scooping up her belongings and stuffing them back into her purse. Tom stands around in the background looking awkward. "Oh you poor baby, what happened? "We wondered why you were gone so long!" Fiona fusses. Slate makes a show of taking the security guy to task… "You call this security? Where are the back-up systems? Aren't these elevators supposed to have alarms and closed-circuit TV surveillance?" Manuel contritely explains to him that he didn't know there was anybody in there… He just thought the power went out. He called the elevator repairman, but you know those guys always take a couple of hours to get here, especially in the middle of the night. "I'll have your job for this, you incompetent slob!" Slate threatens the guy, all the while knowing that he himself told him to cut the wires and disable the systems just hours ago. Since Slate Management owns the building, it's all under his control. Meanwhile, Fiona is helping the unsteady Alison to her feet. She is shaking so violently that she can barely walk, her teeth chattering with post-traumatic stress. Slate tells them to take his limo, which is already waiting outside with his stolid chauffeur Tony behind the wheel. The two of them take the disheveled young blonde by the elbows and help her out to the car and into the back seat.

"What happened…. What happened?" Fiona keeps asking, putting her arms around her shivering roommate in the back of the long black limo as it speeds off into the night. "I don't want to talk about it…" Alison tells her, wishing only to be home in a long hot bath where she can wash the stink of dried urine and crusted come off her battered body. Arriving at their apartment building, the brunette guides her past the doorman and up to their swanky bachelorette pad, sitting her down on the couch and pouring her a brandy {after spreading a towel out underneath her first} . Alison sits there shivering as her supposed friend goes and fills a tub with warm freshly-scented bubble bath. When the king-sized tub is full, Fiona leads to it and helps her in, throwing her filth-encrusted clothing in the garbage and then sitting down on the edge. After getting a good look at he welts on Alison's shapely rear, Fiona speaks up.. "Jesus Christ, it looks like you caught quite a beating… Honey I know you don't want to talk about it right now, but it seems pretty obvious that you've been raped," she says carefully. Alison nods mutely. "I don't know if I should bring this up, but you probably feel all dirty on the inside as well…"

Fiona leaves the room, returning a few minutes later with a big red enema bag in her hand and a selection of nozzles… Filling it with hot soapy water, she hangs it on a convenient hook over the toilet. "You might want to use this," she says. "Don't worry it's clean… I sterilize the nozzles in the dishwasher." Alison stares at her dully… "Well, I'll leave you to it," her sexy roommate sez, leaving the bath and closing the door behind her. Behind each of the mirrored walls, hidden video cameras continue to whirr, activated whenever someone enters the room.

Back in his own lavish condo, Slate lounges is a favorite armchair, smiling to himself in satisfaction as he fiddles with the remote controls, pulling in for close-ups and checking out different views on his giant-sized TV. This beats HBO anytime. He reminds himself to give Leroy a bonus… he performed his part even better than expected. The black ex-convict is only one of a number of goons that Slate keeps on retainer for such things as intimidating business rivals, bodyguarding, leg-breaking, etc. A dangerous man, but easily controlled. Slate was instrumental in obtaining Leroy's early release from prison, and Leroy knows that one word from him could send him back instantly. The guy will do anything for a few hundred bucks worth of drugs. One day soon, when Leroy gets to knowing too much, he'll probably have to have him killed, if he doesn't OD first. But then, who would miss him? Slate's dark eyes glitter as he watches Alison step out of the bath, carefully drying herself, and sit down on the padded toilet seat. The lovely blonde takes the longest nozzle and, dipping the tip in a little Vaseline, slowly inserts it into herself, first in front and then behind. Slate switches views. He's even got a camera that looks up from inside the fucking toilet. Alison cleans herself out thoroughly, not wanting to leave any trace of her rapist's filthy semen inside her. God knows what horrible diseases he might be carrying. At that thought, she fills the bag again with hot water, throwing in plenty of antiseptic, and repeats the whole process again. Then she gets up, goes to the sink, and brushes her teeth about three or four times, gargling with mouthwash in between. Even after all that, she still feels soiled. She wonders if she'll ever feel clean again.

"Hey, honey… are you all right in there?' Fiona calls from the next room. "Yes… yes I guess so…" Alison replies, slipping into a frilly white nightie hanging on the back of the door and putting a bathrobe on over it, belting it around her slender waist. In fact she feels almost human again, although terribly sore and very tired. As she comes out of the bathroom into the living-dining area, she sees that Fiona has changed into her baby-doll pajamas and is waiting for her. Just then the phone rings, and her roommate picks it up. It is Slate, suggesting to Alison that she take a few days off from work, if she needs to, and to call him if there's anything he can do. She tells her dark-haired roommate to thank him. Fiona hangs up, then disappears into her room for a minute, returning with a tube of ointment and a couple of pills "Here… take these, they'll help you to sleep." Alison swallows the pills with some water and gratefully heads off to her room. Fiona follows her into her frilly girlish bedroom, dominated by an ornate four-poster canopy bed. "If you want I could help you rub some of this salve on your welts… It'll help them to heal…"

Alison takes off her bathrobe and flops down on the bed, turning over on her stomach and resting her head on her arms. Fiona lifts her nightie up behind and gently rubs some of the soothing ointment on her lacerated buns. As the sedative begins to take hold, Alison finds her thoughts beginning to wander, reliving some of the events earlier that evening. The girl shudders as she remembers the terrible pain and fear but also the surprising ecstasy that she has experienced. She remembers herself begging Leroy to fuck her, fuck her, fuck her. How could she? How could she actually enjoy her degrading anal rape, even for a minute? But if she's honest with herself, in some ways it was the most exciting thing that ever happened to her. She must be sick… sick,sick,sick. A lump rises in her throat as she is filled with guilt, remorse and self-pity. She sees her mother's dried-up, merciless face pronouncing judgement… Your hot little twat is going to get you in trouble, the old prune gloats. But it wasn't her fault… or was it? She can't think any more. Dimly aware of the soothing hands massaging her behind, she thinks of Fiona… yes Fiona would understand. She resolves to tell her roommate everything in the morning as darkness closes in and she slips into unconsciousness.

TO BE CONTINUED….