The Princess and the Toad

Notice:

This is adult/erotic literature.

This story may contain unsavory

and/or socially unacceptable behavior.

Do not read if it is illegal for you to do so

or if you find such material offensive.

The author does not advocate

or condone illegal behavior.

The Princess and the Toad

© 2004 by Naughty Puppy

Part 1 of 7

Lost Ticket, Lost Girls

Nicolas Reynolds leaned out of the queue and looked at the line of people snaking away ahead of him. Shaking his head with frustration he resumed his arms-crossed posture and turned to his wife. "Looks like we'll be waiting at least another half-hour. Who's idea was it to come here in the evening anyway?"

"Yours," his wife replied.

Nicolas furrowed his brow and snorted. "I don't remember that." He looked back to the line. "Are you sure this is worth it?"

"We came for the girls, remember?" Mrs. Reynolds reminded her husband. "Ronnie's off to college soon, and we already have the tickets, so we may as well use them." The woman turned to give two her daughters a reassuring smile. A casual observer would never have taken the two girls to be sisters.

Veronica, the older, was the quintessential dream girl. Flowing chocolate trusses framed a face that belonged on a porcelain doll. The trim and buxom figure she had inherited from her mother was the envy of every girl; and boy. She was so beautiful that she felt embarrassed and usually dressed down.

Erica, the younger, looked more like a Cabbage Patch Kid than a Barbie Doll. Her face was round and ruddy, with an inconsistent complexion and pug nose. Lifeless strings of pale yellow surrounded her equally dull features. Her figure was no better, being as round as her face and as limp as her hair. She considered her appearance a lost cause and didn't even bother trying to improve it via fashion, makeup, or hairstyle.

Mrs. Reynolds immediately saw the wide-eyed look of alarm in the face of the youngest. "What is it, Rickie?"

"I, uh," the girl stammered, "left my ticket in the car."

Mr. Reynolds pivoted his head and glared. "You did what ?"

"I forgot my ticket," Erica repeated.

Nicolas sighed through a seething scowl. "Can't you ever do anything right? I hope you don't think I'm walking back to the car just to get your stupid ticket." He fished into his pocket and retrieved the keys. Tossing them at the girl, he intentionally aimed where they would be impossible to catch.

"Thanks," Erica offered as she stooped to retrieve the keys. She stood, looking mournfully to her mother.

Mrs. Reynolds detected the plea at once. She turned to her other daughter. "Why don't you go too, Ronnie?"

The older girl smiled. "Sure thing, Mom." She turned to her sibling. "C'mon, Sis."

The two girls fell out of line and began to retrace their steps back to the vehicle. Neither noticed a pair of burly middle-aged men depart the line seconds later. The sisters continued onward as the men began to follow a dozen paces behind.

"Thanks," Erica said. "I'm not even sure I remember where we parked."

"No problem," Veronica replied. "We're behind the church on James Street. Relax. It's not your fault, everyone forgets things now and then. Dad can be such an ass at times. Don't let him get to you. We don't have to be in a bad mood just because he is."

"Thanks. I guess you're right."

The older girl smiled and ruffled her sister's already disheveled hair. "Of course I am!"

The girls continued to chat as the walked, blissfully unaware they were being trailed.

"Oh, I do hope it's in the car," Erica muttered as they approached the deserted parking lot that contained their vehicle.

"It will be," assured Veronica.

"I can't see anything," Erica announced as she tried to peer through the car's windows. "It's too dark."

"Relax," said Veronica. "Where else can it be?" She unlocked the driver's door and opened it, effectively illuminating the vehicle's interior.

"There it is!" Erica cried. "On the hump."

"See, I told you to relax," Veronica said as she began to reach over the seat to retrieve the ticket.

Erica suddenly felt a hand cover her mouth. Before she could think to respond, her right arm was twisted behind her back.

The older of the two men moved to the still-open car door. "Don't go making any suddenly moves or noises, girl."

Veronica looked over her shoulder to see the leering mug of a bearded stranger. Her eyes widened as she noticed the large knife in the man's right hand. She took a quick look outside of the car, but found the lot devoid of passersby. "But, but," the girl stammered. "We don't have any money."

"That's alright," said the man. "I bet your daddy does. Climb on over in the far seat and give me them keys. And don't try anything cute."

Veronica remained as she was, temporarily petrified.

"Now!" the man growled, "Or we start carving your sister here." He moved his knife towards Erica.

Veronica gasped. Dropping the keys, she scurried across the console and into the passenger seat.

"That's better," the man announced. Picking up the keys, he climbed into the driver's seat. He motioned to the other man with a jerk of his head. "In the back, Russ."

The second man opened the door and shoved Erica inside, then climbed in beside her.

"Buckle up," the driver demanded. "We don't want anything happening to you two before your folks pay up."

The girls dutifully fastened their seat belts.

The man turned to face Veronica. "Now you just sit there nice and quiet and no one's gonna get hurt. Right?"

Veronica nodded.

"Good," the older man grumbled as he started the car.

The quartet cruised silently for several tense minutes through the downtown streets. Veronica looked apprehensively at passengers in other vehicles and pedestrians. She so wanted to cry out; to attempt to somehow signal any of them, but she feared what might happen to her sister if she did.

"Alright," the driver said as he stopped the car. "Russ, you and the little girl there," He turned to look over his shoulder at Erica. "What's your name?"

Erica gulped. "Rickie."

"Right," the man continued. "Russ, you take Rickie in our truck and follow me." He narrowed his eyes. "And if either of you two girls tries anything funny; it'll be the other what pays for it." He brandished his knife once again for emphasis.

Both girls nodded in unison.

"Good," the driver growled. "Let's get on with it then. Nice and calm, like nothing's happening."

Russ opened the door and climbed out, then stood aside.

Erica hesitated for but a moment before unfastening her belt and scooting across the seat. Her eyes went to her sibling as she started to exit the vehicle.

At once Veronica detected the fright in her sister's features. She was inclined to tell the shorter girl to run, but she knew that her legs would not carry her far, or fast. She issued a subtle sigh of resignation as the door closed. Her large brown eyes continued to follow Rickie as the younger girl walked beside the other man and climbed into an old pickup.

"Good," snarled the man as the truck started to rumble. "Now just sit back and enjoy the ride. By the way, I'm Hank. What's your name?"

"Ronnie."

Hank lowered his brow as he moved the car back onto the street. "Ronnie? I understand why that toad you call a sister has a boy's name, but you?"

"My real name is Veronica," the girl related. "If you must know. And my sister's name is Erica!"

"It don't matter none," Hank snarled. "Me and my brother will take good care of the both of you so long as you shut up and do like you're told."

Shut up is exactly what Veronica did for the duration of the trip. Although it seemed to last hours, every time she looked at the clock only minutes had passed, forty-two in all, before both vehicles pulled off the highway. They traveled for a handful of additional minutes down a gravel road and then onto a narrow, rutted drive. As a simple white frame house came into view, a pair of barking hounds rushed to meet the vehicles.

"You stay right here," Hank instructed as he brought the car to a stop outside of the old farmhouse. The man climbed out of the car and walked to behind the vehicle where he spoke with his brother.

Veronica could only gaze at the men, unable to quite hear the conversation. She saw Hank open the trunk, the lid swinging upward to block her view. She turned her gaze forward and sighed, wondering how worried her parents were at that moment.

Serves Dad right! the girl thought. If he hadn't been such an asshole, none of this would have happened. Trying to remain calm, she focused on simply breathing. She only snapped from her self-imposed trance when the passenger door swung open beside her.

"Get out!" Hank ordered. He waited as the girl obeyed, and then closed the door. "Little sister's in the trunk, so don't get any stupid ideas about taking off." He nodded toward the house. "That way."

Hank followed the girl to the building with Russ and the two sniffing hounds close behind. The man fumbled briefly with the lock before throwing open the door. He turned on the light and stood aside, allowing the other two to enter ahead of him.

"Keep an eye on her a second," Hank ordered before disappearing down a hallway.

Veronica scanned the dreary, mismatched furniture and the dirty, faded paint. The place smelled of tobacco, men, and dogs. She sighed and dropped her gaze to the stained and worn carpet, trying to imagine a safe way out of the predicament. She looked to her captor and found her spirit buoyed somewhat by his absent expression. "Why'd you pick us?" she asked.

"I dunno," Russ muttered. "It was Hank's idea."

Veronica twisted her lips. Maybe it's just a dream , she thought briefly; but she knew better. OK, it's not a dream, but maybe it at least isn't a nightmare either. They haven't hurt us yet. Maybe the cops will show up any second. Maybe...

"Bring her in here!" The older brother bellowed from down the corridor, snapping the girl from her wishful thinking.

Russ nodded in the direction of the voice. With reluctance, Veronica headed that way, still evaluating the situation for any possible means to escape that did not involve abandoning her sister. She had just rounded the corner when she noticed a man's hands stretched before her.

Hank moved his fists and the duct tape between them to the girl's face, covering her lips before she could part them. Veronica's mouth at once issued a clamor of protest from beneath the impromptu gag. Her eyes bolted wide as the fear she had kept at bay finally gripped her soul.

Hank grabbed the girl and tossed her against the wall. "Be still!"

Veronica did not even hear the command and continued to struggle.

Hank exhaled a sigh of frustration, twisting the brunette's arm behind her back until her muffled protest became instead a muffled whimper. "Are you ready to behave?"

A wide-eyed Veronica nodded.

"And be quiet?"

The girl nodded again.

Keeping the girl's arm pinned, Hank muscled her to the floor. "Keep her down, Russ," the man commanded. "Arms together, just like I have them."

Veronica's face was pushed farther into the fetid carpet as the younger and heavier brother brought his weight to bear on her trapped arms.

Holding the roll of silver tape, Hank knelt next to his brother. "Put your knee in her back and pick her arms up so I can tape them."

The ripping sound of tape being pulled from a roll reached the girl's ears. She released a groan through her gag as the younger man obeyed, straining the joints in her shoulders. The pain did not subside until the two men released her arms, having securely bound her forearms parallel to one another behind her back. Even then, the awkward position was far from comfortable.

Hank pulled the girl up by her hair and steered her through an open closet door. The door immediately slammed behind her, leaving her alone in the darkness. For several seconds, she heard a shuffling and scraping outside of the portal.

"And I don't want to hear a peep out of you!" Hank yelled through the door before his footsteps receded down the corridor.

Shortly, Veronica heard voices, including a harsh, "Get in there!" followed by another door slamming. She sat in the dark; convinced her sister was likely only yards away in a similar chamber. She hoped Erica was not too frightened, but she realized that the young girl was probably terrified; there was no reason not to be. She tried to sleep, telling herself that rest was best in case an opportunity to flee presented itself, but fright kept anything resembling a slumber at bay.

Thus Veronica sat in the dark, intermittently crying. Occasionally she'd hear a voice and strain her ears to detect the conversation, but she could never make out anything other than a stray word or two.

Untold hours passed. The house became as quiet as it was dark, the silence only adding to the girl's anxiety. She began to consider trying to open the door. She had not yet assembled the courage necessary to do so when a scratching sound beyond the portal commanded her attention.

With a crack that lingered in the quiet house, the door separated from the threshold. The door sat still for a handful of seconds, before swinging open. In the dim light, Veronica made out the dark shape of the bearded older brother.

"Come on out, girl," Hank whispered. "But keep it quiet."

Veronica passed a breath, then emerged from the closet.

"Quiet!" the man repeated. "Trust me, you do not want to wake my brother." He grabbed the girl by her taped and twisted arms, steering her down the corridor and into his room. He shoved the door closed with his foot before tossing his captive facedown upon his bed.

Veronica's concern increased by an order of magnitude. She whimpered as she tried to conjure any possible outcome to the scenario other than the horrid one that seemed all but certain.

Hank sat on the mattress near the girl, putting his hand to her waist. "You're prettier than I thought. I never knew a girl could be as pretty as you."

Veronica sniffled and tried to roll away from the man. He easily halted the petty escape attempt. Swinging one leg over the girl, he straddled her abdomen.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetie? I been thinking about you all night." He moved his large hand to the girl's left breast, groping her soft flesh with his knobby fingers.

Veronica emitted a whimper, then started to cry as any feint hope that she would not be raped flew from her mind.

"I ain't gonna hurt you, girl," Hank said. "So long as you shut up and do as you're told. Why would I want to hurt you? You're too pretty; but your sister, I got no need for her except to keep you in line."

The brunette snapped her gaze upward into the face of her tormentor. Her narrowed and bloodshot eyes shinned with an unholy hatred the girl had never before felt. She mumbled an unintelligible threat.

Hand chuckled through an evil grin. "I thought that would get your attention." He moved his right hand from the girl's breast and unsnapped her jeans.

Veronica's eyes flew wide as she renewed her struggle, protesting as loudly as she could in the process.

Hank bought his free hand upward and then to the girl's cheek, snapping her head sideways. "I told you to be quiet, bitch!" He moved the hand in reverse, snapping the girl's face the opposite direction with an even harsher backhand.

Hoping to avoid additional blows, Veronica let her body go limp. With his right hand paused at the zipper to the girl's trousers, Hank brought his left to clasp the girl's cheeks, steering her eyes onto his. "What's the matter? You aren't a virgin are you?"

Veronica shook her head to the extent the man's grip would allow.

Hank smiled. "No? Well, that's too bad, but I bet you're still gonna have a nice tight little teenage pussy for me, aren't you?"

The girl's inclination was to whimper, to beg, but she knew it would be useless. She chose to shut her eyes instead as the man shifted his hand from her face and resumed the removal of her jeans. She tried to send her mind somewhere else; anywhere else, as she felt the fabric of her pants slide down her legs.

Hank paused to admire the brunette's long, smooth, and lean limbs as they lay exposed. He moved his hand to the girl's calf, sighing with satisfaction as he slid his palm upward over her knee and onto the smooth, firm muscles of her inner thigh.

Veronica's teeth clenched as she felt the man's harsh fingers move from her leg to her loins. Pushing aside her thin panties, he dug his digits roughly into her crease, probing the folds in a harsh, invasive manner. Her chest shook as she began to sob.

"Quiet, girl," Hank snapped. "If you really ain't no virgin, this ain't gonna hurt." The man stood and reached for his belt. "Of course, you probably been a good little girl. Always used a condom? Is mine the first real cock your little cunt's gonna feel?"

Veronica tensed as the man dropped his trousers. She looked about the room, trying to discover any way out, any way to delay what seemed to be the inevitable. For a moment, her pride compelled her to flee, to fight, to resist in any way possible. Her logic system overruled; there was no point in being beaten and then raped, when she might at least avoid the beating. She was still wrestling with her internal dilemma when the man climbed back atop the mattress, and her.

Hank knelt with his knees between the girl's thighs. Forcefully spreading her legs with his, he brought his hand back to her crease, rubbing her roughly until he felt her folds begin to moisten, then separate.

As she felt her passage penetrated by an invading finger, Veronica closed her eyes. Turning her head, she tried to send her consciousness somewhere else, anywhere else. She pinched her eyelids tighter as she felt the man mount her, his heavy torso resting upon her frame, the weight bending her spine uncomfortably over her pinned arms.

Hank brought his fingers from the girl's crease to her face, wiping her own secretions below her nose. "Smell your excitement, girl. Your cunt wants a cock. You're just a whore at heart. Every girl is. You were made to be fucked." Once again gripping her cheeks like a vise, he forced her gaze upward. "Now you're going to look at me while I fuck you."

The girl issued a sharp whine as she felt the man's member press upon her womanhood. Soon his rubbery tip found her entry. He paused. She closed her eyes.

Hank squeezed her cheeks harder. "Look at me, bitch!"

Her nose wrinkled, her features twisted in anger, Veronica opened her lids, directing the narrowed, spite-filled gaze into the man's dark sockets.

Hank smiled as he detected her loathing. "How many little boy pricks has your little pussy known?" He leaned, pushing only the head of his thick shaft into the girl's snug passage. "Hmmm, not many," the man concluded with a chuckle. "Or maybe they was just small. How's it feel to have a real man's cock in your cunt?"

With that rhetorical inquiry, Hank leaned, pressing the bulk of his manhood into the girl's snug interior. She closed her eyes as she felt the fullness of his unwelcome invasion.

Hank released the girl's cheeks only to bring his hand back to her face with a resounding slap. "How many times to I have to tell you to look at me, slut! That's what you are now, my little slut. You didn't really think we kidnapped you for ransom, did you? You better get used to feeling my cock in you. Of course, if you don't like it in you, maybe I'll put it in your sister instead."

Veronica snapped her face upward, her wide eyes laced with a malice that would have been fatal if looks could truly kill.

"That's better," Hank whispered. "Now you keep looking at me like a good little whore." He began to move his hips, burrowing his rampant cock deep into the girl's core. He moved his hand to the girl's breast, pressing his fingers into her soft flesh in a rhythm that matched his thrusts.

"You got nice tits." He squeezed for emphasis. "Or should I say, I got nice tits; 'cause they're mine now. Your tits, your pussy, your ass, they all belong to me. That pussy is real nice too. Nice and tight.

"Must have been some tiny pricks your boyfriends had. I don't think I've ever felt a cunt this tight. Move it for me; squeeze my cock. Learn to fuck me back like a good little whore, my little whore."

Veronica's nose wrinkled as she complied, correctly reasoning that the sooner the man blew his wad, the sooner her ordeal would be over.

"Yeah, like that, just like that!" Hank's chest heaved as his excitement increased. "Oh, God, you are a good little fuck. I knew you was a whore at heart!" His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt a warmth start to grow in his balls. "Oh, I been thinking about you all day, baby. I wasn't even going to do you until tomorrow, but I just couldn't wait. You got me so close already, bitch."

Veronica relaxed and awaited the inevitable, praying that she wouldn't become pregnant; or, worse, diseased. She issued a mild snort as she considered her oppressor and the likelihood he ever got laid without parting with cash.

Without warning Hank withdrew and scooted onto the girl's chest. With his right hand, he grasped his glistening rod and brought it to her face. His left hand he moved to her dark tresses, yanking her head upward. "Can't take a chance on knocking your ass up the first night, can we? That's right, look at my cock. Watch it will I shoot all over your pretty face."

Veronica tried to disobey, to look away, but a curiosity she could not comprehend kept bringing her eyes back to the man's crown and its distended aperture. Even though she knew what would happen, the abruptness of the man's climax still caught her by surprise. The first burst was out of his cock and spreading upon her forehead before she even had time to flinch. The second spurt doused her cheek, splattering her left eye. She closed her lids as the mild sting registered in her brain.

Hank increased his grip on the girl's chocolate locks, pulling her face closer as he aimed his cock lower; depositing his next two spurts directly under her nose.

Veronica whimpered as she felt the rubberiness of the man's cock touch her face. She began to squirm, straining the already stretched muscles in her neck.

"Be still," Hank snapped as he watched his next salvo go directly up one of the girl's nostrils. "A slut like you can't be afraid of a little cum on her face!"

Veronica's head jerked. Her eyes flew wide. She sniffled, making matters worse. She tried to shake her head as the glob of semen settled uncomfortably in her nasal passage.

Hank tightened his grip on the girl's hair. He clenched his teeth as he pumped the last spurts of his load onto the girl's already frothed features. "I told you to be still. You're a slut now. You're going to get used to that smell. You better even learn to like it, if you know what's good for you."

His climax complete, Hank released his cock and gripped a corner of the tape that covered the girl's mouth. With a decisive yank, he removed the adhesive strip in a single motion.

Veronica gasped, inhaling a massive breath as she found her mouth unexpectedly free. She had not long to savor, or even consider, her oral freedom, before the man's fingers once again found her cheek, compressing her flesh and forcing her lips into an open square.

"You scream and your sister will get some of what you just got, only worse. Understand?"

Veronica's head bobbed in a meek nod.

"Good," Hank hissed. "You need to get used to more than the smell." Releasing the girl's hair, he brought that hand to her face. Using an extended index finger, he scoured his semen from her cheek as he went, finally pausing just above the girl's still parted lips. "Stick out your tongue."

Veronica's eyes darted in seemingly random directions as she grasped what the man had in mind. She flexed her jaw, trying to protest, but he only increased the force until her cheeks burned from the pressure.

"I told you to stick out your tongue, slut. And I meant now !"

Veronica's breath came in irregular spurts. Opaque white bubbles formed at the exit to her plugged nostril as the girl complied; but barely.

Hank grinned as the tip of the girl's tongue just cleared her lips. For him, that was enough. He pushed his sperm-laden finger over her lips and into her exposed oral cavity, smearing the sampling over her tongue.

Veronica's eyes widened and steadied as her taste buds sampled for the first time the flavor of fresh sperm. At once, she found it salty, putrid, and nasty . She snorted two rapid breaths, blowing spunk from her plugged nostril as Hank's finger began to scrape her other cheek.

"That's right," the man hissed as he wiped his finger on her tongue as second time. "Eat my cum like a real slut. That's what you are now; my little cum-eating slut."

He grunted with satisfaction as he moved his finger from the girl's mouth back to her face. His hand made another half-dozen such journeys. On the last, he pressed his digit into her mouth and left it there as he released of her cheeks with his other hand.

"Suck it for me," the man demanded. "Suck my finger clean."

Veronica sniffled, trying to stem a flow of tears that would not be stopped. She clamped her mouth around the man's finger, pressing the salty flavor of his seed deep into the buds of her tongue.

"Don't cry, little girl," Hank said with a broad grin as he pulled his glistening digit slowly from the girl's mouth. "I know you're probably still hungry, but that's all there is for now. But there's still enough on your face you can smell me all night. We'll feed you more tomorrow. I promise."

Minutes later, the girl found herself alone again in the closet, her mouth once more covered by tape. She tried to tell herself it hadn't happened, but the arms behind her back, her bare legs, her still damp panties, the ravished womanhood within, as well as the pungency on her face and in her mouth were all vivid reminders that her experience was real indeed.

The understanding that this was just the beginning of her ordeal overtook Veronica. She again wept, though she tried to keep her sobs low; preferring that her sister not hear the crying. She knew Rickie would need her to be courageous come morning. Gritting her teeth, she determined to be brave and stop weeping; not just for tonight, but tomorrow as well.

Soon the girl found her eyelids drooping, as if her mind sought through sleep to escape the sorrow of her ideal. But slumber would bring no such solace; only vile brothers, viler cocks, plugged orifices, and load upon load of slimy white ooze covering her face.