Warning!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and nonconsexual sex. If you do not like such stories, please turn back. I don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Anyone who commits rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right so long as no one is hurt.

Karen:

My Rape of an All-American Princess

By “Prey4Me”

Part 1 of 3

Mf, rape, 1st, Mdom

The following is a work of erotic fiction, involving the rape of a perfectly innocent eighteen-year-old girl. It is intended only for persons over eighteen. Any similarity between the characters and real persons is coincidental and utterly improbable.  The author does not condone or encourage non-consensual sex.  If your reading this goes beyond the mere enjoyment of fantasy to the attempt of forced sex, then either get competent help or a castration or both.

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Introduction

       This fiction, written in the First Person, is a story of forced sex.  The protagonist—or anti-hero, if you will—encounters a girl of uncommon beauty, class, and pristine innocence.  He gives in to an impulse, and exploits an opportunity to abduct and rape her.  The combination of her youthful loveliness, her purity and the cuteness of her school uniform combine to induce him to an unexpected degree of pernicious sexual prowess. 

I did it. 

I fucking did it.

Even now, I can hardly believe it.  It all happened so fast.  I didn’t plan it, but then, the opportunity presented itself, and I did it.

I raped a girl.

A beautiful girl. 

                  I raped a very, very, beautiful girl.  A drop-dead gorgeous young girl, the kind boys fantasize about, you know the kind: men contrive schemes and make sacrifices to acquire as girlfriends and wives.  She was—is—eighteen years old, going to a very good school, is quite charming and intelligent, and is, well, just lovely. I’ve found out that since that she’s extremely bright, and likely to go to one of the best colleges anywhere. She’s a cheerleader, member of the girls’ swim team, and a competitive figure skater.                 She’s about five foot four, maybe a hundred and ten pounds, with a great hour-glass figure.  I know her bust is a 34-B—I couldn’t help myself.  At one point, I had to check her bra.

                  And she’s blonde, a natural, honey-gold blonde, with sparkling blue eyes.  She has a sweet, oval face, high cheekbones that don’t jut out, a round jaw, and small-lipped mouth.  And oh yes—a cute little nose, which I can really describe as a “button” nose.                                                                 She belongs on the cover of Seventeen.

              I raped her five days ago.  I’ve always wanted to fuck a truly beautiful girl, you know, a drop-dead, head-turning chick, and, like most guys, I suppose, I’ve always been intrigued with the idea of raping a girl, taking her against her will, forcing myself upon her.   Having her resisting, hating, detesting the sex act, as I force my manhood into her unyielding body.   I mean, haven’t you?  Looked at a girl, and thought, “I want her.  I don’t just want to fuck her, or to make love to her, but I want to grab her, push her onto the ground, rip her clothes off, fondle her body, and then, well, rape her!”

Well, that’s what I wanted to do to Karen when I first saw her.

And I did.

              So let me tell you.  While it is still fresh in my mind—hell, I’ll remember every detail forever.  (And I’m sure she will, too!)  But before something happens, like my getting arrested.  Truth is, I’m still worried.  But it was—for me—a wonderful experience, and I feel it was worth it.

I was on the four-lane in the right lane, and had come up to a stoplight.   As I stopped, I was alongside a late-model luxury SUV, and I saw this cute teenage girl in the passenger seat.  I found myself staring.  She was young, blonde, with her hair brushed to the back over her head and around her temples, where it was clipped.  It fell down her shoulders.  She was wearing a white blouse.  She saw me gawking at her, and gave me one of those quick little, “I’ll-be-polite-but-won’t-encourage-you” smiles, and then looked away.  The light went green.  We stayed somewhat abreast of each other for a few intersections, and then the sedan pulled into a mall.  Impulsively, I pulled in, too, a few car backs.  I didn’t have any plan—I was just somehow entranced, wanting to maybe get another look or two at this perfect specimen of young feminine beauty.  They didn’t seem to be aware of me, that I was following them.

They pulled into a spot.  I noticed that there was a full-sized van on one side, and a large SUV on the other, like they were parked in a tight alley.  Then it suddenly occurred to me.  If something happened to them, there, it would really be out of sight of most of the parking lot!  I drove by and slowed.  A woman—blonde, late 30’s, rather attractive, obviously the girl’s mother—got out.  She spoke to the girl, and left for the mall.  The girl stayed in the car.  I drove past, and came down the next aisle in front of the car.  Just as I was going past the sedan with the teenage beauty, something remarkable and fortuitous happened:  The car right in front of it pulled out!  Do I want to do something here?  I thought.  Right here in the parking lot, in this sea of cars?  No, I argued, I’m …just…considering…playing with…the possibilities…

       I drove in, right in front of the car with the pretty blonde girl, all alone in it.  I looked looked through our windshields.  She seemed occupied with something, not paying attention.  A plan formed in my mind, and my heart was racing with excitement.  I have a toolbox in the back seat.  I took out a few nylon zip-ties.  You’re not really going through with this, aren’t you? queried the good angel on my shoulder.  Well, maybe I will, maybe I won’t… answered the other, dark angel.    We’re just…thinking about it….

       But I knew.  She was so beautiful—in a young, pristine sort of way. 

       I wanted her.

       I had to have her.

       I had to fuck her.

       Not just to fuck her--

       To rape her.

       To rape her!

       I was rather astonished about how efficient I was over the next several minutes, how careful I was with details—that I had such a streak of criminal cunning in me.  Making sure that my passenger door was unlocked, I walked around the back or her car, and came up to the passenger side, where she was sitting.  She had a schoolbook open in her lap, studying while Mom shopped.  Coming up from behind, I was relieved to see that the door was unlocked.  I pulled it open, grabbed her hair, and shoved her downwards, towards the center of the car.  I jabbed a piece of pipe into her kidney.

       “This is a gun, girl—don’t turn around!—whether you live or die depends on whether you do just what I tell you—put your head down!  That’s good, don’t scream or anything—you could die today, if you don’t do just what I tell you, this gun’s loaded—right—put your hands behind your back—do it!—right behind your back!!”

       I pulled her hands backwards.  I criss-crossed them at the wrists, and snaked a nylon zip-tie underneath, locked and tightened it.  I grabbed her by her hair again.  Damn, she had such beautiful hair!  Golden blonde, falling mid-back, where it curled out in large, soft rings and waves.  It was brushed smooth and even, and secured at the back of her head with a tortoise-shell clip which matched her hair.

       Just beautiful.  Young, soft, long, glossy, baby-fine blonde hair.  So I pulled her backwards.  “Out.  Get out of the car.  Don’t scream, or it’s the last thing you ever do.  You’re moving to the car in front.  Now move, no questions, do it!”

       “Mister…mister…please…I-I-“

       “Shut up, you little brat!  Shut the fuck up and move!”  I growled.  I’ve always been something of a nerd, even a wimp.  I was surprised to find this authoritative mean streak in me.

       The teenager obeyed, whimpering a lttle.  I grabbed her purse, leaving the books, and took hold of her bound wrists, and stuck the pipe into the back of her waist, and out she came.  Sheltered from view by the big van, we moved up to my car, and I opened the passenger door and pushed her in.

       “Get down on the floor—crouch!—don’t give me any crap or you’ll be sorry, damn sorry, maybe dead!”  She was slender, and she curled up on the floor. She was wearing a blue pleated skirt, probably a school uniform, and it rode up a little, and I noticed a wisp of white nylon slip.  I shoved her head down a little further, and slammed the door.  Then I moved around, checking to see if anybody was looking, and got in the driver’s seat.  She was looking up at me with these bright blue eyes—I told you she was a beauty!—and I slammed the top of her head with my fist, pushing her deep into the floor area.

       I backed out, and drove out of the mall parking lot, very carefully.

       She started begging and asking me questions and promising me things if I would just let her go, she didn’t do anything, her parents had some money if I didn’t hurt her, blah-blah-blah.  I didn’t answer her.  It was kind of nice hearing her get desperate and try different pleas and to try bargaining.  I think she knew that she was the victim of a sexual kidnapping, but as long as she was scared and confused and not sure, it was, well, helpful (and fun!)  to keep her in a kind of psychological self-torment.

       Meanwhile, I headed out to the four-lane, and took a reasonable speed to get to a remote area I knew about.  Every once in a while I hit her on the head or shoulders to keep her down.  I didn’t say much, except “Shut up, brat!”  Or “You’ll find out!” and things like that.  She kept begging and offering me things and promising things, but I said very little, if anything.

       About fifteen minutes later, we were off in the country a bit, and I turned onto a smaller road.  “You can get up on the seat now, kid,” I told her.  She seemed quite relieved, and slid up.  Driving carefully, I opened her purse, and which had the usual teenage girl stuff.  I found her wallet.  She had several twenties and tens in there.  “You always carry this kind of spending money, kid?”

       “You can keep the money, just let me go, please?”  she begged.

       She had such a sweet teen-age voice.  Soft, sweet.  She was probably a natural soprano.  I wondered if she she was a natural blonde.  She looked it.

       When I approached my turn-off, I figured it was time to let her know—for sure—what was going on.

       “I’m not interested in your money, girl.” I leaned over, and fingered her hair.

       “Oh, no!  No!  No!  No!  Not that!  Anything—I’ll give you anything you want, not that—not that—please, not that!”

       I poked around her wallet.  Credit cards, library, athletic club, license…Her name was Karen.  Karen!  I liked that.  It’s always been one of my favorite names for a girl, I don’t know why.  “So.  Your name is Karen, huh?  And you’re how old…what, eighteen, eighteen?.  Just turned eighteen! hmmm?  Nice age.   You’re very pretty, Karen, you know that?”

       I kept exploring the contents, scrupulously watching my lane and speed.  I was oddly astonished at how smoothly everything was going, like I had planned it for months.  There were pictures of a few guys, but none signed with any special romantic attachment.  A guy in football gear—a behoumoth!  And pictures of herself and other girls in cheerleader uniforms—really cute tanktops and blue-and-white box-pleated cheer skirts.

       The stuff that always makes me drool. 

       “Isn’t St. Agnes’ an all-girls’ school,” I remarked.  “What’s with the football dudes and the cheer outfit?

       “We cheer for Brother Dominic’s.  It’s our brother school.”

       Which made sense.  What was almost beyond comprehending for me was that I had not only successfully snatched this teenager with looks-to-die-for (or-go-to-jail-for-the-rest-of-your-life?), but she was a freaking cheerleader!  How lucky can a guy get?

       I was about to find out.

       She squirmed, pressing back against the door.  I took a moment to examine my prey more carefully.  Damn, she was gorgeous, and cute as hell.  Or heaven!  She was wearing a white school blouse, long-sleeved, buttoned high.  She had a nice figure, and medium breasts, just a couple of nice handsfull, maybe a B-cup.  (Actually, I did check later—she wore a 34B bra.  And a very pretty one, too!  But more on that later.)

       She had on a uniform skirt, pleated, blue plaid with criss-crossing elements of green and red, and, yeah, she had a Catholic school I.D. in her wallet, along with a student activity card, which listed  chess, drama, debating, swim, and, yeah, cheer. There was—get this!—a membership card in a riding club!  And lots of other stuff.  She was obviously a very accomplished young lady, aristocratic, privileged--sure to go places in life.  Her address was from a very nice part of a very proper town.  Her schoolgirl get-up was completed with navy knee-high socks, and well-polished black oxfords

       The girl was not only beautiful, sweet, and innocent-looking, but very aristocratic.

       I continued driving, and poked through her purse a little more.  She quieted down, but came up with occasional entreaties and offers if I would leave it alone.  I looked through the rest of her purse.    Girl stuff.  And a cell phone.  Which reminded me that she would be missed.  I was so carried away with this lovely girl–intoxicated actually!—that I had to think about my legal and tactical situation, and make some fast decisions.  But I had made my decision.

       I was going to go through with it.

       I had kidnapped a perfect beauty.  A one-in-a-million all-American sweetheart!

       And I was going to rape her.

       We drove a bit more, to a county road I’m familiar with, and turned off.  There was a little talk, what with her trying to beg and negotiate and threaten me.  I ignored all that, but I was actually grooving on her increasing fear and anxiety, and her desperate attempts to talk her way out of her predicament.  Then the phone rang.

       I picked it up, flipped it open.  “Hello,” I answered.  “You must be Mrs. _______.  No, you don’t know me.  But I am with Karen.  She’s okay, she’s fine, just be quiet and listen…. No, she can’t talk to you.  Now you be quiet, Mrs. ________ and listen to me, and listen to me real good.”  (I made my voice, grammar, and vocabulary coarse, so she would be better persuaded that she was dealing with a ruthless thug!)  “Now I got your daughter with me, yeah, your little Karen.  Now you shut the fuck up and settle the fuck down, because if you don’t listen to me good and understand me real good something real real bad is going to happen to your little Karen, got it?”

       She blubbered out a kind of yes.

       Karen suddenly screamed out, “Mommy he’s kidnapped me and I’m out in the country I think—” But I freed a foot and kicked her, landing a hard blow around her collarbone.

       “Shut up bitch!” I hollered, she screamed out, started crying, but she did shut up.

       “Now she’s going to be with me for the rest of the day.  You go home and stay quiet and I’ll let you know when and where you get her, but it won’t be for a while.  If you call the cops I’ll kill her.  If you call the cops later  I’ll kill her and you and your husband and your whole fucking family.  If I have any contact with cops, then you lose your daughter and maybe your whole fucking family and you’ll always be asking yourself why you didn’t do what I told you to, got it?”

       It took a while, but I got this hysterical mother quieted down and apparently compliant.  “You will get your little Karen back, if you do what I say, and I’ll contact you about ransom soon.  Just be calm and don’t call the cops.  You don’t want her body dumped on your front lawn, huh?  Don’t contact the cops—you don’t want me to even see a traffic cop, not even a fuckin’ meter maid, if you know what I mean, it might make me nervous, understand?

       “Now I’m going to shut off the phone and I won’t be answering it.  Our only contact will be when I call you on it.  Don’t try to call me.  I’m taking the battery out of it, just to make sure.  Don’t even call your husband just yet.  Just sit tight for a few hours and be calm and don’t call the police..”

       Then I put the phone to Karen’s ear, and she started blubbering and crying and telling Mommy that she hadn’t been hurt but she thought the man wanted to do things to her and stuff like that and I snapped the phone shut.  I pulled over, and pulled the battery out, just in case it was a GPS phone.  I put the phone in her purse.

       I pulled Karen off the floor and got her properly seated.  Her uniform skirt was richly pleated, and the crisp edges spilled generously about her lap and off her sides.  I put my hand on her knee.  “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Karen.  It’s either that, or you’re going to get hurt really badly.”  Starting on top of the well-tailored hem, I ran my hand lightly up her thigh.  She shrieked and lurched back against the corner of the seat, pulling her legs back and tucking them underneath.  “No!  No! No-no-no-NO!   Not that!  Please—anything—not that, please, please, please!”   Her pretty breasts were heaving, and tears streamed down her smooth, softly chiseled cheeks.  But I couldn’t help looking at her legs.  She had slim hips, and damn, somehow she was just so fuckably cute with her legs curled up under her ass, her knees, squeezed tightly together, and her schoolgirl skirt pleats scattered this way and that over the car seat.

       I flipped up the hem of her skirt, exposing some slip.  “Ooooh!”  she yelped.   It wasn’t very exotic, but it was demure and pretty.  It had a nice, smooth luster to it.  No lace, just a rolled hem; at each side was a small walking slit, topped with a little satin bow.  Nothing very fancy, just very feminine and dainty.

We were on a more narrow road, and I balanced attention to the road with my first enjoyment of my prey.  I liked the way this schoolgirl dressed!  It was a tense and exciting thirty minutes as I drove deeper into the country, and onto a smaller road and then a dirt way.  I stopped pawing her, and she relaxed a bit, asking me different questions and begging and pleading and things.  She asked me about myself.  Smart kid.  She was either trying to find out information or to establish a bond with me.  I didn’t answer much, but did let on, “I really dig nice teenage girls.”

The skirt slipped back down over the slip, and, from time to time, I would flip up the hem, just to freak her out—and to look at her pretty slip and nice legs.  She had really smooth, round knees. 

What was especially nice was when she offered to blow me.

       “If you don’t rape me, I mean if you promise not to rape me, then I’ll go down on you, mister, would you like that?”  I didn’t answer her on that.  I figured if I wanted a blowjob, then I’d make her do it.

       But mainly, I wanted to fuck this girl.

       To rape her. 

And I wanted to take my time doing it.  A girl like this, well, you don’t fuck girls like this very often, if ever.  We finally got to my hideout.   It was an abandoned farm.  The barn was derelict, and the farmhouse was trashed with the remains of countless high school kids’ parties.  There were a few pieces of furniture, and some old—and dirty—mattresses hanging around.  This girl probably had romantic visions of an elegant and romantic wedding night.

       She was going to lose her virginity to some pernicious stranger, by being raped in an isolated, filthy place miles and miles from nowhere.

       I reached for lovely little Karen, my teen captive, and took hold of her hair around the nape.  I pulled her to the center of the car, hard.

“Karen.” I was quiet and very direct.

       “Yes, mister?”

       “You better get this straight.  Me master, you slave.  And you better be a good slave, and make me a very happy master, or you will be a very unhappy, miserable slave.  Maybe disfigured, and maybe even dead.  Comprende?”

       “Yes. But--”

       “For the rest of today, and for as long as I want to keep you here, you are my sex slave.  You will do anything and everything I tell you to.  And if you try to fight me, or try to escape, I will catch you and hurt you and hurt you very very bad.  Now say, ‘Yes, sir, I understand, and I will obey you.’”

       Karen lurched.  “Please, you can’t get away with this, just let me go—“

       I pulled her head back by her hair and delivered a hard punch to her flat tummy, producing a loud “Ooooph!”

       Then I gave her another.  And another.  And still another.  Each one yielded a grunt or a groan.  They were pretty hard punches, even with my left.  “I said, say, ‘Yes, sir, I understand and I will obey!’”

       She breathed heavily and gasped.  Then she kind of grunted, kind of whispered,

       “Yes sir, I understand ….oooo…..and I will (huh, huh, oooh)…obey.”

       I pushed her head back, flipping her soft yellow hair over the seat back, and leaned in close.  Now I could enjoy my prey!   My heart raced.  I had her here, alone, in the middle of nowhere—and I could do with her as I wanted.  I gave her a moment to catch her breath, and small tears began to trickle out of her eyes.

       I wanted to rape her.  I so wanted to rape this beautiful teenager!

       “Now kiss me, Karen.  Kiss me nicely, like you would your boyfriend.”  I turned her face to me, and lowered my lips to hers.  We met, and she kissed me.  It was soft, warm, and her lips tasted of a light fruity lip-gloss.  It was just wonderful.  I’m sure she kissed only the most eligible boys, and here she was, kissing me, and all against her will or desires.  I moved my lips over and about hers, let the kiss last a couple of minutes. 

       I didn’t French her.  Later, but not now.  I just kissed her.  My left hand steadied her at her neck and temples, and I stroked the sheen of her pulled-back hair.  I let my right just fall between us, at first; then I slid it behind her shoulder blades.   My open fingers were entwined in her silky blonde hair down her back.  My fingertips toyed with her large, rich curls.

       My libido had been a bit suppressed, probably with the tension and anxiety of undertaking a major crime.  But, alone now with my lovely victim, I found my lust getting aroused, and my prick started getting thick with desire inside my pants.  It knew that something was coming, something wonderful and warm and wet and tight which would make it feel good.

       We both were breathing through out noses, except for occasional gasps as our lips moved over and about each other.  Finally, I broke the kiss, and we both pulled back breathing heavily.  Karen looked down.  I think s he noticed the growing bulge in my pants.   I lifted her chin up.  “Make sure I get lots of kisses and see your pretty blue eyes, Karen,” I instructed.

       She nodded “yes” in quiet assent. She was trembling. 

       I liked that.

       I kept my right hand deeply in her hair, and my left slid to her shoulder, her smooth round shoulder, and I massaged and stroked it through her white uniform blouse.  I could feel her bra strap underneath, and it excited me more.  “I’ll bet you wear very pretty underwear, don’t you, Karen?”  She winced and looked away, obviously uncomfortable with even this verbal intrusion into her feminine modesty.

       “Um, well, uh….”  She seemed to fish for words. The whole thing here was all about her body, but now that we were really at that point she was having trouble dealing with the actuality of it all.   

“Answer me, Karen,” I quietly ordered.

“I mean, I mean…I like to wear nice things, ummmm, but I don’t tease or show off….I’m not a, uh, a party girl…”

“You look like the kind of girl who wears pretty lingerie.  You do, don’t you?”  I wrapped some of her hair around my fist, and pulled it to show I expected an answer.

“(…yes…)” she whispered.  “I do.”

I pushed her skirt pleats up her thigh several inches, displaying her slip.  It had a rich satin luster.  The little satin bows at the side slits were such a nice, delicate touch.  It was styled full, allowing an active girl lots of room for her trim, athletic legs to move.

“Mister, please…”  she sighed at this—the first (and minor) exposure of her private areas.

       My hand slipped down, and I cupped her right breast.  Karen jumped a bit, began to twist away, but then thought better of it.  I just held her tit.  Such a nice, firm, round, teenage tit.  It was wonderful.  Then I massaged it a bit, feeling her up.  I was pretty crude—like an over-sexed teenage kid in lovers’ lane.  Just a horny guy who hadn’t gotten any in a long while, and now had the Queen of the Prom all ready to go--and all to himself!

       I was greedy for this adorable schoolgirl.  I raised my right arm, and nestled her nape in the crook of my elbow, and pulled her face, her soft sweet lips, right up to me, tight and I planted another kiss on her, a hard and wet one.  My other hand went wild over her tits, grabbing them, squeezing them; I felt her up, well, really rough. Crudely. I started feeling the freedom and power of knowing I could do anything I wanted to with my bound captive!  Karen started to twist and buck a bit, but she was tight in my embrace.  My left arm went around her firm, slender waist, and I pulled her hard against me. She was tense and squirmed, but she didn’t fight me.

       I pushed my tongue against her lips. She felt rigid, from bottom to top.  I reached down, and found her criss-crossed wrists, and pulled them up hard towards her shoulder blades, all the while mashing my mouth hard onto hers. It at once hurt her, and pushed her chest towards me.  Karen’s eyes widened, and rolled around, but she could feel my tongue on hers.  Finally, she parted hers, and I slid my tongue in, Frenching her, deep and sensuously.  There was a trace of mint to her breath. I returned my right arm to cradling her head and neck, and I pushed my kiss hard against her.  She was immobile in my arm, and couldn’t turn or back away.  I drove my other hand down her flat tummy to her crotch, and dug in between her clenched legs, goosing her, rubbing my hand up and down her thighs, and as deep into her crotch of her woolen skirt as I could.

       “Get used to it, Candy-Crotch!”  I panted, breaking the tongue-kiss.  “I’m going to be shoving something else right in there,” I said as I shoved my fingers into her belly.  “And you won’t have your clothes in my way, either!”

       I exited the car, went over to her side and pulled her out by her long hair, yanking and dragging her to the rear bumper. I turned her, and backed her up against it.  She twisted and stepped away, as though, with her hands still bound behind her back, she was going to make a break for it!  Maybe this was involuntary, but I wasn’t going to have any part of it, and I grabbed her arm and spun her around.  Now Karen was bent forward over the car trunk, the way a cop would subdue a prisoner.  I grabbed her bound wrists, pulling them up harder, and slamming the little schoolgirl hard onto the car.

       “Oooomph!  Ow!”  she hollered.  Her hair flew over the glossy black metal, obscuring her face.  I kneed her backside, right at the bottom of her little butt, then kneed her again and again and again, getting a scream and a grunt with each one. 

       “Ooo!  Ow!  OW!  Ugh—OHHH!  AYYYYEEEEE!”

       “Wanna fight?  Think you’re tough?  You’re all alone out here, girl—nobody can hear you, nobody can help you, and the only person who can help you is me—me!  So, you gonna be a good girl and do what I say?  Or are you going to try and fight me off, huh?  Cause either way, easy or nice, I’m gonna get you, girl, I’m going to have you—fuck you, you know?  I mean, I’m going to fucking rape you, and it’s up to you how much it’s going to hurt!”

       Karen, the pristine and protected little teenage princess, was leaning over the car trunk, sobbing, passive…defeated.  I could see she was kind of nodding her head.  I turned her around, and brushed her long blonde hair away from her face.  Tears streaked her cheeks Karen gasped and babbled and begged for me to let her go.  HA!  She was so lovely, this girl, and the misery all over her face made me want to hurt and rape her all the more.

       But I wanted her compliant.  I’m kind of new at this rape thing, and I didn’t want a bucking and twisting moving target when I honed in on her cunt!  She needed to learn a lesson, to know who’s boss.  I kept a firm grip on her bound wrists, pushing them up good and hard to her shoulder blades.  This produced a good, piercing all-girl-soprano scream that went out into the empty woods and fields around the old farmhouse.

       “Wanna fight, bitch?  Huh?”

       “No-no-nooooo, on, it hurts, it hurts, it HURTS! Please-stop-please-stop-please-please-pleeeeeease….STOP!”  Karen dropped her head to the trunk, her gorgeous hair spread about her face, head, and the sheet metal, and she sobbed and cried.

       But I wasn’t through.

       “You need one good fucking lesson before your fucking, you spoiled little bitch!”

Keeping her pinned against the car, I shoved my knee into her, hitting her on her thigh, just below her ass.  I gave her another one, a little higher.  It landed on her right butt cheek, and then a third, fourth, and a fifth, all on and around her posterior.  They were good and hard, too!   Just to soften her up. 

       The pretty little schoolgirl screamed some more, but the last few blows produced a kind of “Ooooommmph!!”   A soprano grunt, of sorts.

       I stopped, and my victim just lay against the car, sobbing and catching her breath.

       “Had enough?  Or do you need some more, cunt?”

       “Please…please…no more…” she spoke softly, weeping.  “I’ve had …enough…I’ll do…what you want…Please don’t hurt me any more, mister, please…”

       Then she said something that was music to my ears.

       “I’ll let you make love to me.”

       “I’m not going to make love to you, Karen.”

       She turned around, looking up at me.  “You won’t?”

       “No, Karen.  I’m going to rape you!”

       She was fully turned around now, and I pushed her backwards, and she was arched over the edge of the car, with her head on the trunk, and her hair fanned out over the gleaming black of my car.  Her nice, teenage tits were pushed upwards, displayed nicely because her blouse was stretched tightly from her skirt’s waistband.  The position flattered her teenage tummy.  And her hips, her crotch were arced so nicely, pushed outwards, right at the edge of the car, forcing her to raise herself up on the tip-toes of her shiny black oxfords.  And her hands behind her back accentuated the arch of her body—and probably hurt her a bit more, I suspect.

       She lay back like that, obedient and waiting for my next command.

       Her lovely breasts rose and fell very noticeably, as she caught her breath.  She was still crying, but just a little now.

       Little Karen was quite a site to behold.  I cupped her breasts, both hands.  It was exhilarating to have the power and freedom to just touch her nice body in any way I wanted!    They felt nice and full through her blouse and bra.  I gave them a little squeeze, and let my hands slide down to her stretched-tight flat tummy, and my fingers slide up and down along the pleats of her skirt.

       My right hand found her crotch, and I goosed her, digging my fingertips right into her pussy.  I loved it, feeling up this perfect little teenage Venus.  In mere moments I would be enjoying her smooth young skin! I worked my hand over her, feeling the lines of her hips and thighs and pussy through the woolen skirt and whatever she had under it.  Karen lay back over the trunk, looking off to the side.  She had a bit of a scowl on her forehead, and her blonde hair looked mighty fine spread over the black enamel in disarray.  I pulled her skirt up, then up a bit more, and could feel the lines of her young body more enticingly through her shimmery slip.  I could feel her panty lines.  Her flesh felt smooth and firm through the thin nylon.

       Yum.

       “Mister?”

       “Yeah, baby,” I answered, my hand running all over her intimate areas, digging, fondling, groping, stroking.

       “It hurts.  My hands—my wrists—please, please—it hurts so much.  Please take them off.  I won’t do anything—anything wrong, I mean—I promise, but please, please, take them off, they hurt, I’ll do what you want, just please….”

       I pulled her upright.

       “Promise me you won’t run or fight, not a bit.”
       “I promise.”                

       “Promise me you’ll do everything I tell you to—and I mean everything—everything!”

       “I promise, mister, I promise, oh, please!”

       “Kiss me, like you would your boyfriend.”

       Lifting her head off the black enamel, she pressed warm, firm, puckered lips onto mine.  It was nice, but awfully, well chaste.  I pulled her upright.  “You can do better than that, honey.”

       “I’m, I’m sorry, mister,” she answered.  “I don’t have a boyfriend.  My parents won’t let me.”

“Huh?  A dreamboat like you?  Don’t you date?”

“Just a little.  But Daddy doesn’t let me date one-on-one, not until I’m in college.  He’s very strict.”

Thank you, Daddy!  I thought.  Thank you for protecting this little dreamboat from the cocks of horny teenage boys, and saving her tight virgin pussy for me!

“Now kiss me.  Don’t move while I enjoy you.  Just keep kissing me.”

I parked my hands on her waist, at the top of her hips, and let her do the work, as she pushed herself up on tip-toe, and pressed and undulated her body while she gave me a nice, warm, wet French kiss.  My hands went all over her torso:  her shoulders, tits, waist, buttocks.  I felt her up with complete abandon.  And she kept kissing me, her tongue meeting, circling and playing and pushing back.  Maybe she wasn’t very experienced, but she sure put herself into it.  I figured I could take a chance with her.  I turned her back to me, took out a razor knife, and cut the nylon zip tie.   I put the blade right up to her cheek. 

“You disobey me—break your promise—fight me, try to run, anything—and this blade will be back on your face, and I’ll cut you up so bad no boy will ever date you, let alone marry you, no matter what kind of plastic surgeons your daddy gets, understand?

Karen nodded her head “yes.”  She leaned back against the car.  I studied her, admiring the lovely girl, so completely available and ready for me to enjoy.

“Karen.”

“Yes?”

“Unbutton your blouse.”

Showtime.  At last.  I wanted to just rip her uniform blouse apart, but I thought it best to be able to return her to Mommy looking reasonably intact.  Karen looked down, her hair falling in front of her shoulders, and she flipped it back.  She located the top button, then pulled it open.

Then the next.

And the next one.

Two, three more, and she was at the waistband of her woolen skirt.  She stopped there, and looked up at me with a hurt but quizzical expression, and dropped her hands to her sides.  Inside the parted garment, there was a peek of white brassiere, something shiny. 

Nice.

“Pull your blouse open.

She pulled the halves apart, exposing her young teen brassiere.  The shiny thing was very pretty and girlish.  It consisted of two modest triangular satin cups, no lace.  The fabric was alternating white satin stripes, one very shimmery, the next kind of a flat sheen, then the shimmery satin one again, and so on, running diagonally across her tits. The stripes met between the cups in a “V.” The whole thing was kept together with slender silvery straps.

It was a very pretty, delicate thing, covering two perfect teenage orbs—nice “B” cups, perfectly firm hemispheres of creamy girlflesh.

“Wider.”

Karen was turning out to be a very obedient girl.  I suppose it might be nice to beat and force a screaming victim into submission, but I was rather relieved to have her compliant. 

She pulled her blouse wide apart, allowing me a better view—and access to--her pretty satin-garbed tits.  It was a soft-cup bra, and I could see little buttons pressing out on the satin caused by her nipples.

It’s a cliché, but you could really call them perky.

“Keep holding your blouse open.” 

       And so she stood there, backed against the car fender, holding her schoolgirl shirt open while my eyes feasted on the lovely sight of Karen’s wonderful tits.  And my hands followed suit.  I placed each hand on a tit. And cupped it, then massaged and squeezed and fondled and stroked and pinched and stroked and fondled and groped and cupped and just thoroughly enjoyed the feel of the highschool girl’s adorable breasts.  They felt firm and luscious through her lingerie, and I spent maybe a few minutes feeling her up, kissing her a bit here and there.  She mostly looked off into the distance while I used and abused her teenage delights.

       And I was getting hot, real hot, feeling up this teen dreamboat. I leaned down, nuzzling and kissing her breasts through her bra.  The satin caressed my lips, and I could feel her nipples pucker through the thin material.  I dropped to my knees, hugging her waist, moving my face all about her bosom, her flat tummy, her blouse, and her bra.

I got up.  I took her by the hand and led her up to the derelict farmhouse. The porch didn’t have a rail, and was raised about three or four feet up.  I had her climb up, and sat at the  edge.  I untied her black oxfords, and when I tapped her leg, she alertly raised a foot, I slipped off one shoe, then the other.  The hem of her skirt was inches from my face, and I ran my hands up her calves, to the top of her knee-highs, and pulled them down, then off each foot. 

       Karen had very, very nice legs—smooth, slender, cleanly shaved.  I spent a few more minutes running my hands up and down her legs, enjoying particularly the feel of going up under her skirt, first over, then under her soft slip, to her creamy thighs. Nice teen skin, with soft lingerie caressing my hands and arms!  Karen was quite the young lady, I daresay!  As I worked my way up and down her legs, I saw that her panties had matching striped satin like her bra, a kind of shiny satin alternating with a flat stripe, each stripe about an inch wide.  There was not a square inch of her legs that I didn’t touch and stroke and caress.  Have you ever looked at a girl and wished you could just reach under her dress, and touch her intimately, crudely, rudely?  Enjoy her any way you want, and her feelings be damned? 

       Well, that’s what I had here.  I moved her over to the rickety steps, and had her step down two, so her crotch was even with my head. She waited obediently while I pulled off my shirt and t-shirt. 

Then, just for the heck of it, I lowered my head to the hem of her swingy skirt, and ducked underneath it.  I continued rubbing and stroking her legs, but now moved my face all along her legs, right up to her tight-fitting panties, and nuzzled my face against the bottom of her flat teenage belly, down to her crotch.  My chin and lips could feel the gentle fuzz of her pussy hair through her silvery pantycrotch, and I could pick up the smell of her pussy through the material.

       It was heaven!  Looking back, it seemed rather silly.  Here I was, my head underneath a schoolgirl’s skirt, but it was a sensory delight, and a hell of a turn-on, an invasion of her intimate regions.                                
            The smooth underside of her slip was draped over my neck and shoulders, and it gently caressed my skin as I moved under it. Her pleats spilled over my shoulders and down my back.   I pressed my face into her teenage twat, as I stroked my chin and cheeks in the nestle of her crotch.  I was groping her ass cheeks something fierce, first through her smooth panties, then sliding my hands under the elastic of her leg openings and cupping and squeezing a pair of really firm buttocks.  She was naturally firm, and obviously athletic as well.

       I’m not sure how long I enjoyed exploring beneath her pleated skirt—and slip!—maybe five or ten minutes, and I was getting damned horny, just enjoying the private areas of this modest little princess.    It was one thing to enjoy the girl—and everything I did was a kind of violation—but I did kidnap her to rape her!

       It was time to get this dreamboat fuck-ready.  My hands slid up the sides of her gently curving hips, and found the waistband of her panties.  I dug my index fingers into, and pulled them down, inside-out, right down her thighs, knees, and to her ankles.  I pushed my face right back into her crotch, and inhaled the undiluted aroma of pure, teenaged girl.  Holding her steady with my arms around her thighs, I shoved my face in, good and hard, rubbing my chin up and down her girl-slit, then sticking my tongue out and licking her pussy lips.

       I could feel her tense up.  I didn’t flatter myself to think I was giving her pleasure.  Probably the shock of a new, intrusive sensation.  At least I hope so. I cupped her ass cheeks, pulling her against me, as   I just licked her pussy lips, then slipped my tongue in a bit and wiggled it a little, just cause it was nice to do so, but also hoping that it was alien and invasive to her chaste sensibilities.

       I also dug my fingers into her bottom.  There was a firm feel to her butt, and nice, smooth skin.

       I didn’t mean to seduce the girl.

       I wanted to rape her!

       I took a hand off her trim derriere, and slide my middle finger up and down her pussy lips, then—and I could feel Karen shudder—I pushed it in, up to my first knuckle.  I wriggled it, and then moved it up and down, and, a little deeper in, found just what I was looking—and hoping—for:  her maidenhead.    My well-protected, very religious Karen, not allowed to date outside of chaperoned groups, was, indeed, intact!  Not just virginal, but intact!   I can’t tell you how delighted I was to have my hopes confirmed.

       Let me confess something here.  I don’t get laid very often.  And when I do, well, it’s not the cream of the crop.   I’d never had a bonafide virgin. 

And Karen, lovely, blonde, Catholic schoolgirl Karen, was true cherry.

       I pulled out from underneath her uniform skirt, and it fell, swaying gently.

       I stepped up onto the rickety porch, picking up her panties off the step, and had her join me. I couldn’t resist examining the little thing, feeling the softness, and pressing it to my face and inhaling the aroma of freshly showered teenage girl.  I put them in my pocket.

She faced me, arms to her side, her blouse open with the shirt tales pulled out a bit. 

  “Take off your blouse.”

       Karen pulled the shirt tales out of the skirt waistband, and undid the last couple of buttons.  She unbuttoned her cuffs, and shrugged her shoulders back.  The white blouse slid off her shoulders, down her arms.  It floated to the floor behind her.

       “The skirt.”

       She reached to her side, and fidgeted with a button, opening it.  Then she slid the zipper down, and it dropped off her hips, landing in a circle of blue, red, and yellow wool around her pretty little feet.  She stood before me, her hands at her sides, wearing just her satin bra and half-slip, awaiting my next order.  She was trembling slightly. 

       I moved up the steps, and stood before her. I tore my remaining clothes off.  In an instant my shoes were kicked off, and my pants and underwear and socks in a pile. 

       Naked now, my cock hard and anxious was standing up straight in front of her, wanting her, wanting to be done with the preliminaries to get burrowed deep into her luscious young body, and Karen knew it. Her gaze was fixed on my hard-on.  I doubt she had ever seen a naked cock, let alone an erect one!  I stepped up to her, and the tip of my prick rubbed against the soft satin of her half-slip, nestling in the hallow below her flat tummy.  I put my hands on her tits, grabbing and squeezing them.  Then I slid her shiny-ribbon bra straps off her shoulders.

They dangled below her elbows.

       I hugged pretty little Karen in my arms, pulling her forward, her arms hanging at her sides.  Her face lay in the crook of my neck.  My prick was rubbing up against her shiny slip, and damn, it felt fine, so smooth and soft and gently ticklish!  I reached behind her, and found her bra hooks, and pulled them apart.  Stepping back, I hooked my index finger in between her bra cups, and pulled it off.

       Her breasts were teen perfection.  Just magnificent.  Nice, round, hemispheres, about the size of tennis balls, that pushed out from her ribcage, without the least bit of droop or sag.  They were peaked with small, pale-pink nipples, and tipped with such cute little nodules, each one about the size of a pencil erasure.  I moved her to a step so her tits were even with my face.

I examined her bra

It was a 34-B—perfect, just right for her size and frame.  Her breasts were about the size of tennis balls, very round and firm, not a bit of droop.  They just pushed straight off her chest.

I cupped them, and flicked my thumbs up and down over her nipples.   Karen stood still, wincing occasionally, but she stayed still, her arms to her sides. I got kind of rough. I got on a stair step so my face was even with her chest, and spent, I don’t know, four or five minutes just enjoying the cheerleader’s tits.  I kissed them, licked them, sucked on them.  I nuzzled my face against them, and listened to her rapid heart. I lifted them, pushed them inwards, spread them outwards, cupped and squeezed and pinched them.  Karen stood there as I took each nipple and placed it precisely between my canines, and bit, ever so slowly, and was rewarded with exquisite screams which died in the nearby woods.  Karen couldn’t back away—she would rip her nipples off!  She just stood there, squirming, pushing and gripping my shoulders weakly with her little fists.

Then I’d ease off, and soothingly lick her sore nipples, and settle her down. What was so nice was that above the waist was all this beautiful tit and skin, and below was her torso clad in the smooth slip.   She had such enjoyable little breasts, and my hands kept busy holding and stroking her at her hips and ass, right through her nylon slip.

       The tip of my prick swung back and forth, and when the bottom of it brushed against her slip, it jumped in excitement and anticipation of the fuck it was anxious for.  There’s real female around here!  it seemed to be saying, Real pussy—I’m gonna get real pussy! 

       I moved the two of us up to the decrepit porch, by the door of the ramshackle farmhouse.

       I pulled my lovely captive against me, pointing her face to me, and we kissed some more, hard and hot and wet, and my tongue plunged into her mouth.  I shoved her hard against the house wall, shoving my hips against her.  My hips and meat could feel her body right through the thin nylon, as I banged my heated loins against her, and ground my crotch back and forth against hers. 

Karen stood still, hands to her side, allowing me to pull her body against mine.  I stroked and rubbed her shoulders, tits, sides, and worked their way in and out of her soft blonde hair as they moved all about her back.  I took my time with her, savoring every perfect lovely sexy exciting detail with this teen princess.   I took hold of the satin slip at her hips, and pulled it down, down, and the flimsy thing slipped down her legs, landing in a circle of white satin atop her feet, on top of the mound of her blue pleated skirt.

       Sweet little Karen and I were both naked now.

       Completely.

       It was time to rape my teenage dreamboat.

       To deflower my tender ingénue.

       I took hold of her upper arm, and anchored my other hand in her hair at her nape, and we entered the derelict farmhouse.  It was such a beautiful day, early autumn and warm.  Great weather to be naked, to rape a girl.

        The place was a mess, strewn with broken furniture, trash, and lots of scattered beer cans, cups, pizza boxes, bottles and food wrappers.  On weekends, it’s a teen party house, but nobody comes out on a weekday afternoon.  I was sure we would be quite alone and undisturbed.

       Karen froze at the doorway, when she saw the mess, but I gave her a shove, and pushed her inside.  Barefoot, we made our way through the crap, and I steered my prey to the stairs, and marched her up to a bedroom I was familiar with.

       We got to the door.  There, Karen balked.

       “No….no….  Please…..  Not here—not this place—not—oh, no, I…I couldn’t…it’s…so…filthy!”  she said, surveying the place. 

       And it was filthy.  There were beer cans and bottles, dilapidated furniture, cigarette butts, crap all over the place, and in the corner, a dirty, stained mattress on the floor.  Karen, I’m sure, was a girl who dreamed of yielding her virginity to a passionate husband-lover on her wedding night, in some elegant four-posted bed in grand honeymoon suite. Wearing a white silk peignoir, too! This place was a firetrap and a health hazard—and definitely condemned!

       I wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her head back by her hair.  “What did you expect, baby, the honeymoon suite at the Plaza?  You’re going to get on that mattress,” I growled into her ear, “and get fucked, or I’m going to drag you into the basement and hang you up by your wrists!  Then I’ll beat you and whip that creamy country-club hide of yours till you’re bleeding all over!  And in the end you’re still going to be one thoroughly raped  little bitch!”  I turned her so her back was to the doorframe, and shoved her against it, hard.  I leaned in on her, stooping a bit so my hard prick pushed against her pussy. 

“Remember what I said in the car, Candy-Crotch!  ‘Me master, you slave.  And I mean fuck-slave!’”   I pushed my face into her neck, her hair, and felt the softness of her blonde tresses.  “You’re here to lie down on your back, open your legs, take my cock into your little pussy, and get fucked!”

       Karen started crying.  The horrible, ugly finality of her situation and the tawdry filth of the place must have combined to really get to her.  I rubbed my prick up and down against her pussy some more, which reinvigorated my erection, and then took her by the arm and hair and, tiptoe, led her through the debris to the mattress.  I parked her right in the middle of it.

       She stood there, a nude goddess in a garbage dump, hunched forward a bit, clasping her hands to her pussy.   Her face was covered with misery, and she was crying again.  She looked at me with a desperate, plaintiff expression.

       Karen’s young, baby-fine hair was brushed to the rear over the top and around the sides of her head, and it trailed down her shoulders and back in classic school-girl style.  She was wearing a blonde-colored clip at the back of her head.  “Take that thing out of your hair,” I ordered.  She reached up, lifting her breasts, and unsnapped it.  Her hair fell down extravagantly about her shoulders.  “Now shake your hair out, and whip it back and forth.”  She did.  A moment later, it was in generous disarray all about her shoulders, and spilling down her chest, where the tips brushed over her cute pink nipples.        

       “Put your hands in your hair—at your nape—and tussle your hair.”

       Karen gave me what I wanted, a classic pin-up pose, her hair disheveled about her hands and wrists.  “Now turn around, not too fast.”

       She turned, and I studied her carefully, massaging my impatient prick while I enjoyed the show.  She was truly, impeccably beautiful. A teen Venus at the cusp of her womanhood.  Her tits rose a bit higher, and her flat tummy was even more slender before flaring to the gentle adolescent curve of her hips and ass.   And her ass.   Her ass!  Small, tight, and high. 

       There was nothing on her except a gold crucifix on a tiny chain.  I let her keep that on.   A sparkling irony, it appealed to the Darwinian in me.  You know, the alpha male and the gene pool thing.

       “Now get on your knees, bitch.”

       Karen dropped.

       I took hold of her hair with two fists, and pulled her forward.  “Kiss my cock.”

       I made her lean forward, and she planted a chaste little kiss on the purple tip. 

       “Come on.  You can do better than that!”

       Karen gave it a harder, warmer kiss, and I guided her lips over it, up and down, and along the side.  “Keep kissing, bitch, keep kissing the thing that will fuck you, that will take your virginity.  This is your first cock, isn’t it, girl?”

       She nodded “yes,” and kept kissing it.  The light tickle and caress of her lips was very pleasant, but I was getting more excited with the knowledge that she had never had contact with a penis before, and I was her first, and this whole thing was shocking and repulsive to her. Her hair brushed against it a bit, and that was extra nice.

       “Since you’re not very good at kissing cock, girl, open your mouth and suck it!”

       I felt her lips purse.  I gave her a resounding slap, hitting not her cheek but the side of her head and temple.  With the heel of my palm.  Good and hard!  She spun off to her right, her glorious blonde mane flying out in a circle.  She landed in a curled heap, her hair strewn across her face.  I kicked her, digging my heel into the side of her hip. 

       “Now get back on your knees.”

       She pulled herself together, facing me.  Her head was bowed down, her hair falling forward, obscuring face, but I could tell she was crying. 

       I took my left hand, and slapped her again, and she spun off to my right in another heap.  Again, her hair flew out in a circle, covering her face.  But this time she put her hands, and pushed herself back to the kneeling position.  In a moment, she was kneeling before me, had flipped her hair to her back, and—tears streaming down her beautiful aristocratic cheeks—her bright blue eyes, tears streaming out, looking right at me.

       “Please.  Please.  No more.  Don’t hit me, please.  I’ll d-do what you want.  I—I--,  don’t know much about, about…these things.   I-I’m a virgin, you know, and I, haven’t dated much or, um, done things, um, with boys…I just… don’t know, well, well, just what you want me to do.  Please.  Please.  Please, just, just….f-f-fuck me and get it over with.”

       “Please, mister.”

       “Please….fuck me…just….(do it)…..”  Her voice trailed off to a whimper.         She lowered that beautiful face, steeped in misery, and her hair fell forward in that way it frames a young girl’s face.

       “Fuck me,” she whispered.

       Then Karen leaned forward, opened her mouth, leaned forward and swallowed my hard prick.  She just held it softly in her mouth for a moment, and then slowly started raising and lowering her head, sucking me on the upward motion, and relaxing as she lowered her lips down to the base of my dick.  Her oral hold was light—I’d even say delicate.  She barely touched it.

       She was kind of avoiding it, being shy—and it was quite a tease.  Very very exciting.

       I brushed her hair backwards with my splayed fingers as she was sucking me off. It was so soft, and I could see tears streaming down her cheeks as she applied herself to her assignment of sucking my meat.  I breathed heavily, intoxicated with the pernicious pleasure of her unhappiness, her beauty, her subjugation, the abject defilement of this pure girl. Her chest heaved.  Her perky tits rose and fell.

  But: she kept her mouth on my prick.

       And it was feeling better every minute.

       I slid my prick in, and she closed her lips and jaw gingerly over it.  She was so pristine, and her technique was rather inept, but I just pushed my hips forward and back, fucking her sweet face, while she delicately (dare I say “tastefully?”) sucked on my hog.

       But it felt good, it really did.  Not the best blowjob I’ve had, but to have this perfectly lovely piece of rape-bait sucking away was rapturous!  I fucked her face for a few minutes.  I guess you can say I was actually, finally, raping her!  Karen bent forward on her knees, her hands on the grubby mattress, rocking forward and back.  I slouched towards her, holding her by her hair, guiding her head and mouth. I was getting hornier and harder like hell.  My prick was rock-hard again, pointing straight up, and Karen had to rise up a bit to get her head at an adequate angle.  But most of my penis was inside her mouth, the tip nestling deep against her throat as I lunged into her mouth.

       She’s never done this before.   I’m the first! Her very first cock! This is the first time she’s ever touched cock—and it’s my cock, mine—right in her sweet little mouth!! My gloating was wordless but intense.  I continued rocking, in and out.  And this is just the start—I’m going to rape her! Her virgin pussy!  As gratifying as it was, I didn’t want to go too far.

       I figured I could safely keep her captive for maybe a few hours, and I was determined to get her pussy, and to get her good.   I pulled out of her mouth, and put the ball of my foot on her chest, and pushed her back.  She landed hard on the grubby mattress, her golden curls fanning out.  She was flat on her back, arms stretched out from her shoulders.   One knee was raised up slightly, kind of covering the other one.  She looked startled, or maybe anxious or afraid or resigned—I don’t know.  But she was so beautiful and sexy, with her sweet teenage titties pushing up off her chest, and her golden triangle inviting my cock in.

       I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful, desirable, fuck-worthy cunt, not before or since.  She had slightly sparse hair, golden blonde like her mane, with a little touch of red.  It was a soft hair, not very kinky—kind of large, loopy curls.  Her cunt hair extended just to the top of her pussy lips, and not at all on her thighs or belly.

       I dropped first to my knees, then I fell on top of her, hard, sprawling  Kissing her and fondling her and feeling her up and rubbing against her had all been really good, but there was nothing like the feel of this pristine teenager underneath me, pinned to the smelly mattress.  I lay on top of her, writhing and grinding my crotch against hers.  Then I slid to the side of her.  I kept my left hand wrapped in her hair so she faced me, looking at me.  My right hand was all over her body, cupping and squeezing her tits, stroking her side, tummy, and fondling—a lot!!—her cunt.  Her curves, skin, hair, and the form of her pussy against my eager prick made me delirious, even a bit spacey.   I held her head, anchoring her by gripping her hair behind her little ears, and undulated my body back and forth over hers.  I  rubbed my prick back and forth against her pussy.

       Now I was rubbing it up and down, along the pale pink lines of her slightly moist pussy crack.  Karen was staring up at the ceiling, with all its peeling paint, and I was energetically nuzzling her hair, kissing her, licking her ears, and speaking all manner of filth into them. “Maybe you’re important at school or at your yacht club, girly, but here you’re just a cunt for my cock!”   After a minute or so of this, I put a knee between hers, and grunted, “Open your legs virgin!” 

       I could feel Karen tense up.  She knew it was coming, but instinctively balked at this, her moment of tragic truth.  She put her hands against my shoulders, intuitively pushing away, albeit weakly.  I batted them away, capturing her wrists over her head.  Securing her, I growled, “Don’t fight, girl.  Don’t resist.  You fight me, and I’ll beat the shit out of you.  I love beating pretty girls, and the prettier they are, the more I like to fuck them over.”

       “And you’re damn fucking pretty, you know?”

       I could feel the fight go out of her.

       “Go ahead…do it…” she whispered.  “Just, just do it and get it over with.  Please.  Just do it…

       “….(fuck me)….” Her whisper was barely audible.   “………(fuck…..me)….just…get it over…with….”

       Karen’s voice was almost a whisper, dripping with defeat.

       I didn’t waste any time.  I released her hands, and they moved limply to her sides, her forearm out sideways and her upper arms crooked upwards.  She looked vacantly off to the side, into space.  With the knuckles and thumb of my left hand, I spread open her pussy lips, and I used my right to guide my girl-raper.  I put my tip in, and was rewarded with the incomparable feel of young, slightly moist girl. 

       I pushed in.

       Hard.

       And pretty fast, too.        All the way.  She was dry, very tight—it felt almost abrasive.  But that was compensated with the shock and pain that seared her face.  Karen gripped the edges of the filthy mattress—I could feel the jolt—and arched her body, pushing her beautiful tits upwards, and her head back, as she let out the most beautiful full-soprano scream I ever hope to hear!  “EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeiiiyyyaaaaaah….EEEE!!”

       I felt her maidenhead—she really, really  was intact!—I shoved right through it, and I was in her, inside the lovely Karen’s cunt, all the way, deep, and she was warm, oh, so warm with her tightness–(there was some real friction!)—I plunged back in three, four, five more hard times.   I was actually fucking, raping this perfectly beautiful, blonde, teenage virgin!

       Karen gasped, grunted, and then issued another scream as I drove into her a few more times.  I must have hit a nerve or something.  A loud, full soprano teenage scream that filled the trash-strewn bedroom.  She stiffened again, arched her back again and screamed again, flailing her arms about her sides.  From the corner of my eye, I could see she had balled her hands into fists, and was kind of pounding the dirty mattress, issuing a bit of dust and a moldy odor.

       She was so very, very tight, and dry. But if it was uncomfortable for me, it was agony for her.   It took some real effort, but I was determined to fuck this girl mercilessly.

       I pulled out a bit, and drove in, even harder, impaling my virgin schoolgirl with the full length of my rigid girl-raper. I buried myself inside her eighteen-year-old girlhood.

       And then it got good. I started feeling some moisture, and thrust back into her again, then again and again:  long, even, confident strokes.   She felt so good, her cunt gripping my cock in an involuntary way.  I lay on her for a moment, savoring the extraordinary experience of impaling this perfectly pristine Catholic girl!  My victim settled down a bit, her face grim, a tear trickling out.  She turned her head off the side. 

       Karen was so beautiful, naked beneath me, transparent with pain and anguish.  I brushed her golden hair away from her head, and put my lips to her ear.   “I’m raping you, Karen, I’m raping you,” I said, as I kissed and nuzzled her.  Her glossy golden hair brushed softly against my nose and cheek.    “You’re losing your virginity in this filthy place to a rapist.  And neither of us will ever forget it.  You’ll remember it for the rest of your life—your first fuck, here on this smelly mattress in this farm house.”

       I pulled Karen’s face upright so she was looking at me, and gave her a big, wet, French kiss.  Then I pulled my prick out, maybe halfway, and slammed it back into her, finding I could get in even a little deeper. 

       And Karen stiffened again.  She kind of swept her arms over her shoulders, up and down, as I thrust into my lovely young teenager again.

       Again.

       And again.

       And again.

       I began fucking—or I should say, raping her, in earnest.  Almost every thrust elicited a grunt, a groan, or a grasp of some kind.  “Uh…uh!…oh, oh!…Owww…uh!”  I propped myself up on my elbows, looking down at her, while my hips rose and fell at an even pace, and my virgin-fucker…fucked her!  In and out, in and out, every stroke had become perfect pleasure.  “Yeah, Karen baby, yeah, Karen, Karen, Karen, yeah, I’m fucking you Karen, my cock is goin’ into you, and I’m fucking you, fucking you, Karen, oh, Karen, you’re so beautiful, you gorgeous little teenage fuck, you’re my fuck-toy, Karen, you’re made for fucking, you’re just beautiful and made to be fucked, and I’m fucking you, Karen, Karen, Karen….”  I caught my breath.

She was looking off the side, emitting a sustained “Oooooo….oh!…OOOOoooo….uh..UGH!” 

“Karen, spread your legs some more, my Catholic little teenage fuck-toy, you’re getting it, huh?  you’re getting raped, raped,--“   I put my face right to her delicate little ear, “Raped, RAPED!  I’m RAPING  you, Karen, my big cock is deep in your little pussy and I’m RAPING  you!!”

       She was loosening up, but just a bit, although a good bit more moist, and I continued raping my captive vestal virgin.  “Ugh, oh, OH!”  she uttered with each of my pumps into her.  “Ugh, ugh, uh-uh-UGH!”  Most of my strokes were about half-cock length, maybe a bit more, but I varied it.  Sometimes I gave her a series of series of long, full-length thrusts, and those produced a real response:  “Ugh!  OH!  Ugh-ugh-Ow-OW-OH!  Ugh, huh, ugh…” 

I was hurting her.  Those long, hard pushes were intense, and after fifteen minutes or so I found myself approaching pre-climax.  But as much as I wanted to come in this girl, and come hard, I wanted to really, thoroughly enjoy her, and to stretch the whole thing out.  So I slowed down, and shoved myself into her as deep as I could.  I settled down on her young body, relaxed, and took a bit of a fuck-break.

I did this a few times, at least.  I think my rape of Karen must have lasted the better part of an hour, with these pauses.

       Then I’d resume combing her long, glossy hair with my fingers, inhale her sweet, clean aroma, and talk dirty to her some more.  I had all sorts of things to say to her, as degrading as I could come up with.  “Hmmmm, yeah, Karen, squeeze my cock  with your pussy, you little bitch.  I’m going to teach you how to be a real slut!  Come on, come on!  Squeeze it tight—make me feel good, you spoiled little bitch, or I’ll make you hurt…ooooo…...that’s more like it, yeah….Your body is made for fucking, you know, Karen?  You deserve to be fucked hard by every man who looks at you.  All those boys at Catholic High, the priests, too!   They all want to stick their cocks in you, too!  You’re a hot kid, Karen, you’d get those faggot priests turned on, you know?  Tell me what a little cock-teaser you are, tell me you’re a bitch, a real bitch--I wanna hear you say it!”

       It took a bit of pinching her nipples, but I got her to participate in her own abuse.

       “I’m a-a b-b-bitch,” she finally admitted. 

“Tell me what a cock-teasing gorgeous bitch you are.”

“I’m a beautiful,…c-cock-teasing….bitch!,…”        

       I helped her articulate.  “And you deserve to be raped.”

       “And I d-deserve to be raped.”

       With that, having successfully postponed my orgasm, I’d resumed raping her, and moved up on my knees and elbows, and started thrusting into her with short, very fast strokes.  I had become a fuck machine, my prick pumping in and out of her, steady,  like a piston.  “You like it, Karen, you like it this way?  Answer me!”

       She was crying, but answered, “Yes! Yes!  Yes!  I like it!  I like being fucked!  I like the way you fuck me!”  She tossed her head left and right.  She must have been confused and scared as hell.

       I stopped, and rose up on my arms—taking care to be sure that my prick remained firmly planted in her.

       I slapped her.  Again, and again, and again.  I slapped her left, I slapped her right, and she brought her arms over her face.

       “You lying slut!  I know you hate this—how dare you lie to me, you prissy little cunt!”

       And I started slapping her tits. I kept my dick planted deeply inside her, and grabbed her breasts, shoving them hard, every which way over her ribcage.  She put her arms over her chest, so I slugged her in the side of her head with a fist.

       All the while, keeping my groin pressed hard against her belly, and my prick firmly implanted in her pussy.

       “You’re just fuck-meat, you slut!  You’re a beautiful and popular and rich and religious  teenage girl, but out here,  you’re just fuck-meat!  But you don’t lie to me, slut!”

       “Okay-okay-okay-I-hate-it-I-hate-it-you’re-hurting-me-you’re-hurting-me-oh-it hurts-it-hurts-my-vagina-hurts-so-much-so-much!”

       My victim was getting hysterical, and I backed off.  I didn’t want her to lose conscious awareness of every painful detail of her rape, so I lowered myself down on her, and wrapped my arms around her, joining my wrists at the small of her back.  I had her arms imprisoned in a tight, possessive embrace.

       I resumed fucking her with a moderate, measured pace.  I held her tight, kept her firm, and my hips rose and fell over her, driving my prick in and out of her, in and out, in and out, nice and easy and nice and it felt so good.  Karen began to settle down, sobbing but catching her breath.

       And I fucked her.

       Oh, I just went on fucking and fucking and fucking this perfect teenage beauty.

       I raped her.

       I fucked my beautiful, seventeen-year-old virgin, my adorable blonde Venus.

       And my lust began to rise.  I looked down at her, and after all this time, there was still this exquisite anguish on her face as I violated her pristine body.  I could feel the lust in my balls, and my shaft, as good as it felt, was beginning to burn, and the burn got hotter, especially right at the tip.  There was a sense of pressure, increasing heat, and a glorious, overwhelming sense of churning all around my cock as it slid in and out of her mist, but oh-so-snug girlhood.

       “It won’t be long now, Karen, it won’t be long, and I’m going to come in you, I’m gonna finish fucking you and shoot my load deep in your sweet little body!”

       She did something kind of strange, and impressive, too.  She put her hands on my face, almost tenderly, like a lover, and looked me right in the eyes.  “Please don’t come in me,” she implored.  “Please.  Please don’t.  I beg you—pull out before you come.  Please, please….”

       But her entreaty was aborted.  She obviously felt my climax.

       It happened.

       Suddenly, powerfully, abruptly.

       I exploded.   I pushed myself into her as hard and deep as

I could, plunging her female depths, and I simply burst open into her.

       “Ohhhh,….no, no, no….”  Karen sighed and moaned.   It was too late, and she knew it.

       There was another, sudden rush from my scrotum, and a fast squirt right up the center of my pole, and I was bursting more seed in her virgin womb! 

       “Yeah, YEAH, KAREN!”  I nearly shouted, “I’m fucking you, I’m raping you, and I’m fucking coming in your virgin body!” 

       I paused, and  yet another stream of jizz rushed up and unloaded into her.

       Then another.

       There was a short moment, and I pulled back, jammed myself back, back, deep into her tight girlhood, and still another shot of cum shot into her.  It felt like I was flushing my soul, every particle of my evil soul, into her pristine body, right on this filthy mattress in this trash-strewn derelict farm house.

       I slowed down, laying my weight on her lithe frame.  I scooped her hair, and piled it on her side, my right, and burrowed my face in it.  “Now you’ve been fucked, Karen.  You were a girl, now I’ve made you a woman.  You’re a real woman now, Karen, because you’ve had a man—you’re having a man—my penis is in your body.

       “And my semen is in you, in your womb.

       “Just think.  Millions of my sperms cells are floating around inside you, starting their swim up, deeper into you.  They’re going to crowd through you cervix, and the strongest ones will go up your fallopian tubes, looking for an egg to impregnate.  Then one of them will penetrate the egg, just as I penetrated your virginity, and fertilize your egg.”        

       “Then you’ll get pregnant!”

       I stroked Karen’s face, smoothing her lovely hair away from her temples.  She was silent, breathing heavily, her eyes wet with weeping. 

       I could feel her heart beat, a fast pitter-patter.

       The air around us was heavy with the odor of sweat and sex.

       It’s hard to articulate, but I was, well, awed, by our union, as I beheld her teen loveliness, her classiness, her perfect body, the feel of my cock still inside her, and most of all, that I had taken this desirable virgin, kidnapped her, stripped her naked, and raped her.

       I wiggled my cock.  It was getting soft now.  I pushed my loins in, keeping myself seated in her, because I didn’t want the rape to end.

       Not yet.

       We were quiet for quiet a while.  I noticed that our breathing began to match.  I kissed her occasionally, sometimes with my tongue, sometimes not, relishing the power of extracting kisses from little Miss Popularity—kisses that should have been won by worthy young lads, but were crudely seized by me. I stroked her body, memorizing her curves, and occasionally wriggled my soft prick so stayed pleasantly seated in her body.

       I loomed over her face.  “What has just happened to you?”

       “You f-f-fucked me.”

       “I raped you.”

       “You raped me…you raped me.”

       “Actually, my cock is still inside you, Karen, and I’m still ejaculating little bits of semen into you.  So I’m still raping you, Karen.  Say it.  Say, ‘you’re raping me.  You’re raping my virgin body.’  I want you to say it.

       “You’re raping me.  You’re r-raping my v-v-virgin body.”

       “Say it again.”

       “You’re raping me.  You’re raping my virgin body.

       Music to my ears.  I wanted to rape her more, hurt her more, harm her, and spew more filth into her, and wound her in further and more unseemly ways.  “There are probably thousands of boys and men who have looked at you over the years and wanted to do what I just did.  And there will be thousands and thousands more, too, Karen!  But I got you—I got you first.  I’m the first of who knows how many men will put their hard penises into your body, you know that?  You’ll fuck lots of  men over the course of your life, but you’ll never forget me.

       “I’m your first.  Your first fuck.  And I’ll always—always!—be the first man to have you!

        I figured I was finally done  She was one thoroughly, properly raped girl.  I kissed her, pulled her really into a really tight  hug, delirious with the feel of her.

       Finally, I rolled off Karen.   I pulled myself to my feet and leaned against the grimy bedroom wall, looking down at her.  She was a luscious sight, sprawled on the stained mattress, her perfect teenage body naked curled into a ball.   My lust, at least for a while, was sated.  I had raped her, fucked her, defiled her, and satisfied my testosterone’s needs.   But I still had an inexplicable desire to further “possess” her, to use an old-fashioned term.     I wanted to have more of her, to imbibe of the young sweetness of her soul, and to violate that even more.

       It was still afternoon, a bit late.  I could probably keep her out here in the farmhouse for a few more hours, but unless I snuffed the bitch, I would have to get her returned to her mommy before too long, and in somewhat decent shape.

       I also needed some form of coercion or control to keep them from reporting the girl’s rape to the cops.

       Karen was motionless, obviously hurt in heart and body.  I kneeled down next to her, stroked her hair, and ran my hands over her.  Even now it was a thrill to cup her breasts, stroke her body, grope and fondle her moist pussy.  I finger-fucked her, jabbing my fingers hard and deep into her cunt.  She stared off to the side, passively allowing me the pleasure of her body. 

       I wanted her more.

       I wanted more of her.

       I wanted to utterly possess  my sweet, lovely young Karen.

       Evil ideas seized my sick, depraved mind.  A plan began to take form in my thinking.

       “Get up, whore!”  I ordered.

       Karen began to pull herself up.  She seemed to reek of pain and humiliation.  Her hands to her side, the abused young beauty faced me in all her vulnerable nakedness.

End of Part 1 of 3

       

       

Warning!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and nonconsexual sex. If you do not like such stories, please turn back. I don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Anyone who commits rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right so long as no one is hurt.

Karen:

       My Rape of a All-American Princess

By “Prey4Me”

Part 2 of 3

Mf, rape, 1st, Teen, Mdom, oral, anal

The following is a work of erotic fiction, involving the rape of a perfectly innocent eighteen-year-old girl. It is intended only for persons over eighteen. Any similarity between the characters and real persons is coincidental and utterly improbable.  The author does not condone or encourage non-consensual sex.  If your reading this goes beyond the mere enjoyment of fantasy to the attempt of forced sex, then either get competent help or a castration or both.

*                                                           **************                                                   *

Karen’s Ordeal Continues

Karen got up, slowly, standing on the filthy mattress upon which she had just lost her virginity.  She was wobbly and pressed a hand to the graffiti-scarred wall to steady herself.  Her rape seemed to have hit her harder than I had first thought.   She was still beautiful, but definitely the worse for wear.  Her hair was quite a mess, with locks and curls falling every which way. One generous honey-blonde wave fell over left eye and temple—very sexy.   She was pale, a little sweaty, and a bit of mascara was smeared around her eyes, from her crying.

       And, nicest of all, there was a smearing of transparent creamy film and red at the top of her thighs, and around her pussy and the bottom of her belly.

       Karen’s appeal and persona had been so very pristine and virginal.   Now, she looked devastated, used.  Or, to use an old-fashioned term, ruined.

I had taken that priceless virtue, in a rough and merciless way, if I say so myself.

Rape.  I had raped sweet young Karen. And it was very, very gratifying.

       You’ve probably noticed that I use the word rape a lot.  Bear with me.  It’s something that fascinates, intrigues, and excites me.  I love the concept, the fantasy, the image, and now--finally—the experience of rape.

       My victim was rather dazed, looking at me.  I guess she was wondering what would happen next.  Maybe she was afraid I’d hurt her or snuff her.  Well, no, but I wasn’t going to let her know that.  Not yet, anyway.  I needed to keep control over her.  Maybe I was through fucking her, but I wasn’t through raping her!

       As I see it, rape is more than just the forced insertion of a penis into a vagina.  It is the application of force and power, depriving the victim of her autonomy, dignity, modesty, and all sense of control over her body.  It’s the subjugation of her femininity.  It’s exploitation, deprivation, violation, defilement, and the absolutely selfish enjoyment of a girl.

       But enough on philosophizing about rape.

       I had malice and mischief in mind!

       “Come with me,” I ordered.  I took her by the hand.    Naked and barefoot, the two of us tiptoed back through the crap that was all over the place.  “Do you feel dirty, Karen?  Like you’re not clean any more?  Well, you aren’t. Not now!”  I chuckled.   “Think you’ll want to wear a white gown when you get married?”  The sadist in me loved to taunt this classy cunt. “If you ever do!  Watch out for the dried puke there!”  I pointed out, helpfully, but sardonically. “Maybe some girl puked there after she got drunk and was gang-raped, huh?”   I lead her downstairs, a sick parody of two lovers stealing out of their bower.   We reached the porch, where our clothes were scattered about.  I stepped into my shoes, then ordered her, “Pick up the clothes.  All of them.”

       Karen picked up a shoe, her blonde mane falling forward, and started to put it on.  I grabbed her by her hair, and pulled her back, and slapped a tit. “Did I tell you to put your shoes on, whore?”

       “N-no.  Sir.”

       “Just pick them up, you stupid little slut!”

       She whimpered something (“I’m not a s-s-slut…”) and bent over, gathering up our clothes. I kicked her, right on her trim little ass, sending her sprawling, but she caught herself on her palms.   “If I say you’re a slut, you’re a slut!  Now pick up the clothes, and stay barefoot!” 

I had reasons. If she were to make a break for it, I wanted her barefoot, but me with footwear, so I could catch her.

       Still leading her hand-in-hand, I led her outside to the porch, and had her pick up our clothes.   Then to the car.  I had her drop the clothes on the grass, and I pushed my beautiful Karen back against the warm black enamel of the car, and pressed myself in against her, pushing her ass hard against the curve of the fender.  I pressed hard against her, running my fingers through her hair, kissing her, grinding my crotch against hers.  Her pussy felt wet and warm and so very well fucked.

“You’re a slut, Karen, a slut! I’m going to turn you into a slut!” 

My lust, at least for now, was sated, but it was exhilarating to feel her body all the same.  She was soft and pliant, and still smelled of sex.

       She offered no resistance or complaint as I fondled and pawed her body.

       I shoved her roughly to the ground.  I tossed her purse to her.   “You keep a brush or something in this?  Fix your hair.  You’re a fucking mess!”  Sitting Indian-style on the dirt, she started brushing and straightening her hair.  She was kind of pale.

       “Do you have some make-up or lipstick?  Do something to your face.  You look like you’ve been fucked half to death!” 

       Karen pulled her things together, and knelt by the car door.  She pulled the side view mirror out, and fixed herself.   Then she stood up, and I turned her around, bending her over the hood.  I pushed up against her, and rubbed my flaccid prick against her ass crack.  “Ever been fucked in the ass?” 

Karen froze. I pushed her legs apart, and wiggled my prick into her crotch, and tapped her on her hips, signaling I wanted her to close them, and my dick was squeezed between her upper thighs.    I wasn’t about to fuck her again, not just yet, but it did feel nice.   “So I guess that’s a ‘no,’ huh”

“No.  Sir.”

“Now finish fixing your hair and your face, I want you looking pretty, like you haven’t been raped, actually.”  It took a few minutes, but my bruised beauty actually made herself quite presentable.  She pulled out damp-wipe, and cleaned her face; then she put on a bit of powder, and some lipstick. 

       And she looked a lot nicer.

       I got some things out of the trunk.  I usually keep my digi-camera around—it’s a top-grade one, too—and, even better, happened to have my laptop with me.

       “Now put your clothes back on, nice and neat.”  The blonde looked at me quizzically, but immediately complied.  As she slid her white satin-striped panties up her thighs, she probably thought her ordeal was over.

       And she would be wrong.  Didn’t she notice that I was not getting dressed?

       Having just gotten my rocks off, I found myself simply enjoying the poetic beauty of this lovely teenage girl putting her clothes on.  She put her bra about her waist, clipped it together, then rotated it around and pulled it up her torso, enclosing those sweet 34-B breasts, and positioned the silvery straps on her shoulders.

       She put on her crisp white blouse, glancing at me while she buttoned it.  I leaned against the car, checking the camera settings, in all my nude glory.   It was a moment of beauty and grace as she flipped her hair out of the collar, over her shoulders and back, and pushed it down her back.

       Then she stepped into her demure satin half-slip.

       And then her skirt.  I like watching girls fix their clothes, the femininity of it all.    She fastened the waistband, zipper, and pulled it straight, and she pulled it down on her uniform blouse.  Her adolescent breasts pushed outwards proudly. 

       Lastly, she pulled on her knee-highs, except for her shoes.  The pleats of her skirt fanned out on the grass in a semicircle.  I motioned for her to get up, and, except that her hair was loose, she looked like the virignal schoolgirl I had kidnapped an hour or so before.

       Except that she was no longer an innocent virgin! I liked the thought, that everybody would think she’s still the sweet pristine Karen, but that Karen would be maintaining the ugly secret that she was “damaged goods,” as they used to say.

       How satisfying!

       “Now come with me, and bring your shoes,” I ordered.  I stayed naked—except for my footwear.  Did it occur to her that that was strange?  An attractive brook was nearby; the bank was lined with well-worn rocks and boulders and nice foliage. It would be an artistic photographic backdrop, and looked like a thousand other rivers and brooks around the world.

       We got there, and I had her sit down on a smooth, spherical rock, about a meter tall.   “You’re going to model for me.  Sit down, and make sure your skirt fans out to your sides.”  She adjusted herself, and looked, well, very pretty, posing on the thing.  Her hair fluttered in a bit of breeze, her young tits pushed out against the white blouse, and the blue plaid skirt was draped over the off-white rock in a neat, even manner.

       “Now smile for the camera.”

       She did, and I took some shots from a few angles.  She was so naturally pretty.

       “Now Karen, listen up.  I’m going to be taking lots of pictures of you.  And you’re going to pose, look very pretty and neat and sweet, and then we’re going to take your clothes off, strip, a little at a time, got it?  When I’m done, I’m going to have a nice portfolio of you.”  She looked down,  resigned to her plight.   She had just been raped—why not a bit more indignity?  “Now pull your skirt up, halfway to your thigh…yeah, let a bit of the slip show…good…. Now pull them both up a big higher, mid-thigh, right, look straight ahead, give me a bit of a smile…hmmm…. push your hair back…now face me…. smile…. now smile, lips closed, no teeth…. push your tits out….”   I was impressed with her compliance, like there was a natural model in her.  Nice, but strange.  “Lean back, spread your skirt out…now pull your skirt up, good, Pull it all up, your slip, too,…turn your head right…smile…Show your pearly-whites!  Turn and face me, skirt up, show your panties, nice, more panty-crotch…..good, good,…head back, look at the sky, nice….Hmmmm…open your legs, just a little.   Now a little more.”

       She kept posing for me as I proceeded.  “I’m going to create a website, and store all these pictures of you.  I’ll keep it secure, password-protected.  And you’re going to be a porno star!  Now slide your hand inside the waistband of your panties, good!  You’re going to look great—you know it, but don’t like to admit it, but most men really lust after beautiful schoolgirls like you.  Now turn over, and push your ass up a bit….good…They look at you in your sweet little uniforms, watch your skirt swish and sway as you walk, and wish to hell that they could get you naked and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow—like I just did!”

       She was quiet, on her knees and elbows.  I pushed her skirt and slip up, exposing her panties.   I leaned over, directing her face to me, and kissed her.  “They want to kiss you, Karen.” 

       I kissed her again. She was still as I groped her crotch. Then I stroked her ass.  “They want to touch you, to feel your body, to enjoy you intimately, like I’m doing now, Karen.”

       She closed her eyes, and kind of nodded acknowledgement. “Get off the rock.”  She slid down.   I leaned over her, extracting more kisses, and my free hand moved to her knees, and slid under her skirt and slip, up her thigh. I adjusted her legs, and had the pleats fan and trail behind her over the rock. “All the men and boys who look at you, Karen, want to feel you up and put their hands under your skirt”—I stroked her thighs, they were cool and smooth—“because you’re such a beautiful, desirable, fuckable little cunt!”

       And with that, I pushed her legs apart.  I slid my hand up the top of her thigh, sliding my fingers inside her pussy, digging in.

       “And there are millions and millions of horny guys who would love to have a huge website with hundreds of pictures of a beautiful blonde Catholic schoolgirl like you, taking off her uniform, showing all the delights of her perfect teenage body, you know that?”

       She sat there, immobile, eyes closed.

       “Well?”  I demanded.  “Do you know that?  Do you know that pictures of you taking your uniform off will turn on all these millions of guys and that they’ll go from webpage to webpage looking at you, unzipping their pants, pulling on their cocks and fantasizing about fucking you, like I fucked you, huh, you know that, Karen?”

       She nodded. 

“Think of your naked butt on millions of hard drives all over the world!”

But that still wasn’t enough. I wanted her to absolutely understand and appreciate and emotionally digest this sordid possibility.

       “I want you to say it, Karen.  Say, ‘I know that I turn on millions of guys and they’ll jerk off while they look at pictures of me naked.’  Now say it!”

       She finally opened her eyes, and looked at me, pain and grief on her face.  “I know—I know—millions of men will, will…masturbate…looking at me…with my clothes…off…naked….”  Her voice trailed off.  Not perfect, but it would do.

       “Now here’s the deal, Candy-Crotch!” I cheerfully said.  “I’m going to take more pictures of you, and load them onto my hard drive.”  And when I’m done, I bet my hard drive will be hard again, baby!  I thought.  “Then I’ll select the ones I like for the on-line portfolio.  And I’m going to load it into a few hundred addresses. But that’s just for starters.  They’ll be linked to other porno sites, which will link to other sites, and—since they’re free—they’ll be shared with thousands and thousands and thousands of porno sites.  You’ll be known everywhere!  You don’t know how many smut pages are out there that promise ‘teenage girls’—but you get slutty-looking twenty-five-olds. Can’t tell you what a bummer it is to look at grown women with droopy boobs in cheap plaid miniskirts!   But you’re the real thing, baby, a real schoolgirl!  With the hit of the ‘send’ key, I can send pictures of you to everybody who knows you, and thousand and millions of men besides!

       “And I’ll hack into your school computer and get everybody’s email address!  Just think.  Every time you go down the hall, every boy, every teacher, every fucking priest will think, ‘I know what she looks like under her uniform!’  And all around the world, from Turkmeninistan to South Africa to South Chicago, men will be turning on their computers, turning to pictures of you--you, Karen!   And pulling their cocks and rubbing them and whacking on them and fantasizing about sticking their penises into you!  Do you want me to do that?”

       She shook her head.

       “I didn’t think so.  So let’s get back to our photo-shoot, little Miss Porno-Star!  I want you to be schoolgirl pretty from start to finish.   As long as I don’t hear from the cops, these pictures will stay locked on cyberspace behind my password.  But if I ever get asked about what happened here, about raping you, then I’m going to release those pictures to your school, to the entire town, and the rest of the world.  It’s up to you.  You pose, and I keep the pictures to myself, and this stays just between us.  Or your sexy ass becomes the public property of men all over the world.  Understand?”

       She nodded, and turned to me.  Karen lowered her head, her hair falling forward, framing her porcelain-delicate face. “Yes,” she whispered.

       “And that means your family.  When I’m done with you, I’m going to phone your mother and tell her that if she calls the police, there’s hell to pay.  And you’ll make the payments.  Everybody will feel sorry for you—but they’ll look at you, gossip about you, the girls will analyze your figure, the boys will pull on their pricks, and your husband—if you ever get one--will know everything when and if you get married.  But this way, you can at least pretend to everybody that you’re still the sweet little virgin everybody thinks you are.”

       “Now, turn to your left, and sit up straight.  Put your hands in your hair, at your nape, and pull your hair back.”  She did.  I took a few shots.

       “Now stand up and face me.  Spread your skirt out, fan it to the sides…. nice…now lift it up a few inches…. yeah, that’s a pretty little slip, sexy, now lift up the slip too, halfway up your thighs….good….turn around, bend over….hmmm…”  I lifted her skirt and slip up, framing her panty-clad butt….I rubbed her ass cheeks through the nylon….took some more pictures at different angles.  It was nice, nice!

       And so it went.  It was fun undressing my schoolgirl captive all over again.  I had her unbutton, re-button, and unbutton her blouse several times, exposing her chest with and without her bra.  I not only posed her, but I physically positioned her, moving her arms, legs, the angle of her body. I couldn’t keep my hands off her for very long.  “Smile!”   I had her sitting, standing, leaning against rocks, her skirt down, her skirt up, her panties pulled down, pulled back up, every which way. “Put your hair so it falls over your left eye, look into the camera.”  A few sultry shots.  “Throw your hair back, look at the sky, and push your tits out!”   “Lie back on the rock, pull your blouse apart.”  A few more shots.  “Cup your tits, get your nipples excited!”   I put my fingers in her hair, kissed her, fondled her tits whenever I wanted to, and stroked her smooth creamy thighs. I pushed her skirt up, displaying a bit of slip, then pushed them up high, and got her panties.    She was my plaything, my exotic model, my nymphet, and my fucktoy!  She was fully pose-able  fuck-action Barbie doll, and I could and did anything I wanted to.  I had her push her panties down to her thighs, and took a few lewd images of her schoolgirl cunt.

After a while, I had my beautiful little Karen, in her bra, panties, and silky half-slip.  It was a rather dramatic effect, if I say so, the fragile girl in her dainty lingerie sitting or reclining on the hard rocks of the riverbed.  Then I’d take a photo break, and have her hug me, kssing me while she undulated her hips, and her slip would brush back and forth against my prick. 

It was then that I found that my libido was sufficiently rested, and I could feel arousal seep back into my loins. 

“Drop the slip, girl.”  She slid it down slowly—I told her to do everything slowly so I could get shots—and I took a few images. I had a special, 25-gig card in the camera, and I was getting quite a portfolio!   Down to her matching bra and panties, I draped her backwards over a large, rounded rock.  She spread her long blonde mane over the stone, so I could capture it.  Then I moved onto her, and lay across Karen.

“I’m not through fucking you, girl.”

“I know.”  Her tone was matter-of-fact. I could hardly believe my good fortune—not only successfully kidnapping this perfectly beautiful virgin, but also her absolute compliance.   I rubbed my prick up and down over her silky panties, and back and forth.  It felt nice, but Ol’ Peter was still kind of pooped.    I knew that it always take me a lot longer to get hard and then to reach climax on my second effort.  I doubt she had ever learned much about  men’s sexuality.  She was in for quite a surprise, and, I daresay, a nasty one! 

“You’re a sexy little bitch, you know that, Karen?”  I kept rubbing the bottom side of my prick all over her trim, panty-covered derriere, letting it nestle a bit in her crack.  She didn’t answer.  “Well?”  I demanded.

“Yes, …yes…I guess I do…know it…”

“Know what, what?”

“That I’m, I’m…attractive, and men want to, well, fuck me.”

“You’re more than that, Karen baby.   You’re a sexy fucking bitch, now say it!”

“Ohhh…I’m a s-s-sexy fucking…b-bitch,” she whimpered.

“With nice tits!”   And with that, I unhooked her bra and roughly pivoted her around, so she was facing me, pushed rudely, backwards over the rock.  I dropped the flimsy thing on the rocks, and pushed her legs apart, positioning myself in between her thighs, with my cock pressed against her silken panty-crotch.  I moved my erection around a bit, and the rich sensation of thin nylon stretched over young cunt was tonic to my lust.

I leaned forward against her, my fists gripping her sweet young tits, and I gave them a good painful squeeze—but kept my fingernails out.  “Karen, Karen, baby, I just want to fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you some more!”  She screamed, and instinctively tried to push me away, then hit me with weak, ineffective fists, and then pushed and tried to twist out from under me.  “Keep fighting, and you’ll get hurt more!” I said, and I pushed my hips in harder against her, and gave her little titties a hard squeeze. 

Karen was helpless.  She twisted, rocked, and bucked, and struck at me with an ineffective little fist, and was rewarded with a vicious squeeze on her right boob, and a hard punch to her left kidney.  She twisted and thrashed.  Her hair flew about her face, and her hips—her satin-clad hips and crotch—were grinding against my loins. 

The combination of pain, fight, and, well, sensuous lingerie, was getting me very excited.

“You don’t get it, do you, whore?” I bellowed.  “You can’t do anything—just take it, just take it!  It’s going to hurt, and you fight and I’ll hurt you worse, got it?”  And with that, I grabbed her hair, and pulled her backwards, so her head struck against the rock.

I leaned against her, my hard-on squeezed between our bellies.

“See, Karen?  You’re between a rock, and a hard cock—yeah, between the rock, and a rock-hard cock, which is going to fuck you again, but soon!  Yeah, my little whore, I’m not through raping you, understand?”

I leaned down upon her.

“You’re going to take it, Karen,” I growled.  “You’re going to take it right up your cunt, all over again!”

I pushed her back over the large, round rock, and her head hit hard on the granite.  I grabbed her hair, and kissed her.

It was a psychologically sadistic kiss, in its own way.  I steadied her face, and pressed my lips softly to her.  I looked her, right in her bright blue Irish eyes.  Then I kissed her softly, sweetly. 

It was such a contrast to the brutal beating she had just received.  I felt such power and privilege over my sexual prey.

And pure lust.

Karen broke out in fresh tears.  I stroked her temple, combing my fingers through her soft, blonde hair, and planted sweet gentle kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her nose.

As though I were a lover.

And Karen cried.

I brushed her tears off her cheeks, as she softly sobbed.   Maybe she was relieved that the beating was over, that she was still alive, or what, I don’t know, but she was calming down.  I pulled her forward, off the waist-high boulder, so she was standing.

I pushed her white satin panties down her hips. 

It joined her lingerie and uniform on the rocks, scattered about. 

The brook gurgled and sighed nearby.  This was such a lovely, peaceful spot—romantic, even!

I positioned her on a rock, and took some more images of her. They turned out to be really excellent, dripping with sexuality—we both knew I would be raping her again, soon, too!   There was something really exciting about putting this soft body on hard granite of different shapes and sizes, visually enjoying her, anticipating another fuck.  A lot of what I was taking was kind of artistic, but I also had her sprawl backwards, spread her legs, pull her pussy lips open, and then I got some good juicy shots. I interrupted taking pictures to just touch this dreamboat I had raped, to kiss her, hold her, stroke her, run my finger through her hair, as I got hotter and hotter.  There was a large ledge, and I had her lean off it, somewhat upside-down.  Her tits fell downwards, and I sucked and played with her nipples.  Then I had her hold and pull on my prick as I shoved my fingers deep into her pussy, wriggling them around, stroking and jabbing her clit.  At one point I had her lean back against a rock, its edge even with her butt.  It thrust her hips out, pushing her pussy out enticingly.

I finger-fucked her some more.  Her soft pussy hair was smooth against my knuckles.  She leaned back against the cold granite, looking off the side in a passive, distant way while I crudely enjoyed her.  Her golden hair fell across her face, and the naked cheerleader was so very lovely and vulnerable and available to me.

What a fuck position!  I got images of her from a few positions, then stepped over and lay atop her.  My prick snuggled against her smooth, blonde bush.

My lust for her raged.

There seemed to be a kind of resignation or compliance or at least passive compliance on her face.  I pulled Karen, my beautiful, eighteen-year-old Catholic schoolgirl Karen, into my arms, holding her tightly and absorbing the contours of her lovely body into my evil lust.  Her hair cascaded down her back, the fringes on her shoulder fluttering lightly in a bit of breeze, and I caressed her back, sliding my hands up her torso underneath that extravagant blonde mane.

My knuckles were gently tickled by Karen’s hair.

I kissed her.  Karen gave me kisses back, soft ones.  She knew what I wanted, and gave it to me.  Her hands lightly on my shoulders, she undulated her hips, pressing and rubbing her soft pussy hair against my prick.

Damn, it felt nice.

I pushed my face into her hair, nuzzling her ear.  “I’m going to give it to you different this time.” 

I pivoted the gorgeous cheerleader around, and pulled her back to me.  My prick nestled at the top of her ass crack, and I reached around her, pulling her by the waist tightly against me.  She must have sensed something was not going to be different; I felt her stiffen up.

No matter.  Karen was under my completely control, mine to enjoy anyway I wanted!

My hands moved up her torso, to her breasts.  I cupped her nice, firm tits, massaging them, pulling them left and right, up and down.  Karen was really rigid, and I wondered if she might try to bolt.  “Don’t move, baby, don’t move, just stand here, let me enjoy you.  Be a good girl, Karen baby, you’ll be home tonight, sleeping in your comfy little bed.  Do something stupid, and you’ll be dead and buried out here, got it?”

“Nooo…pleeeease…no more….”  My lovely little captive whined softly.  “J-j-just let me gooooo,…please?”  I shoved her hard against the rock, and my cock found itself surrounded by her trim ass cheeks, just above her asshole.

“I’m not finished with you, my little fuck-toy!”  Still pushing her legs and hips against the boulder with my crotch, I pulled her head and shoulders back sharply, and growled into her ear, “Get it, you spoiled little brat?”    Her hair tickled my nose.  “Got it?”

It took a moment, but I got her to acknowledge me.

“Y-yes,…. mister.”  The only thing nicer than the complete sexual enjoyment of a beautiful girl is to have her, and have her terrorized while you…have her!

I kept her this way for maybe a few minutes, feeling her up, running my hands all over her body, from her shoulders and her breasts down to her trim tummy and then down to her cunt and thighs.  Every inch of her skin was smooth and nice and young.  Really, I couldn’t get enough of beautiful blonde Karen.  Years and years of lusting after pretty princesses were being visited upon poor little Karen.

Damn, I was horny and ready to go.  I kept Karen pressed over the cold round boulder.   The stream babbled away.  I pushed her right leg outwards, and then the same with the left.  I rubbed my prick up and down her fanny crack.  I was rigid and ready.

The bulbous tip of my prick found her pussy.  “Here it comes, you cheerleader whore!”  I grunted, and I plunged into her cunt.  She gasped, pushing back off the slopes of the boulder, weakly, but I shoved her shoulder blades, pushing her down against the rock, good and hard.  I grabbed her hair, and pointing her face to the side, brushing away her long yellow mane so I could keep her noble face in view while I fucked her doggie-style.

I immediately started in, fucking her good and hard, administering solid thrusts with an even pace. She was a much more comfortable fit this time around.  A little tight, but nice, smooth, and wet!   I spread her arms wide out over the curve of the rock, so every possible inch of her skin was on stone.  That rock must have felt damn cold and hard!

“Yeah, nothing like getting a girl between a rock and a rock-hard cock, huh?” I taunted.  I couldn’t help it.  She was such a classy girl, obviously protected and sheltered, and here she was, out in the middle of nowhere, getting banged by some callous bastard on a rough-edged boulder.  I lowered my hips a bit, bent my knees, and corrected the angle, shoving myself in even deeper, right to the hilt.

My thighs pressed against her ass and thighs, and I pushed hard, shoving her even harder against the boulder.  I held firm for a moment, and just enjoyed the feeling of prime teenage pussy enclosing my meat.  Karen was crying again, and I pulled out, and shoved in again, then again, and again.  Again and again and again.  In, out, in, out, in, out, with fast, staccato jabs.  Karen was turning into a good fuck, Class-A rape-meat.  She was looser and nicely wet now, and she was a good fit—snug, not tight! --making her a fantastic fuck, as I pushed in and out of her, in and out, in and out, in and out. 

Damn, it was nirvana, just fucking this girl. Her wet young cunt fit me perfectly, and I slid in and out with ease.  I felt my blood-lust pulled upwards and concentrating in the top-half of my girl-raper.  I knew that a second climax would take a lot of fucking, and I adjusted my posture for the long haul. I leaned in, covering her with my body, and kept fucking her with short, piston-like strokes, in-out-in-out-in-out.  There was a particularly nice squeeze on the top third of my prick, just around the ring next the cock’s head.  I concentrated on that little friction point.  It was drawing the blood upwards in my manhood with a slow but progressive vacuum.  I was hardly at an ecstasy level—fucking Karen was just giving me even, continuous pleasure all around my girl-fucker, and the tingling warmth emanated out from my loins to my crotch, belly and thighs.

  Just nice, pleasant sensations, going on and on.  Karen’s blonde mane streamed down her back, the edge drifting onto the gray stone, blowing gently in the early Autumn breeze.  I just leaned forward and back, forward and back, a nice, leisurely fuck as my cock slid so delightfully in and out of her well-raped pussy.

She was much quieter this time.  She let out an occasional “Ooooo…”  Some of my harder thrusts made her go, “uh-ugh!  UGH!”  But for the most part, she lay over the curve of the rock, breathing heavily and sighing, while I banged away at her cunt.  I figured the roughness and hardness of it must have been pretty painful to her soft, young skin.   A few times she tried to cradle her face in her arms, but I would have none of that.  I yanked her arms out to the edge of the rock, so her head could only lie on the rock. 

Just to be sure things were thoroughly uncomfortable.

I held her in place, holding her hips, and groping her ass cheeks, banging away into her pussy,

And I had other things in mind—ways to violate this girl, ways she wasn’t expecting.    I pulled out, and nestled my cock in her ass-crack, sliding it up and down, enjoying the feel of her smooth butt-skin, slightly lubricated by the wet from inside her cunt.  Karen started to get up, but I shoved her back down, and her hair spread over the gray rock.  “You’re not done!  I’ve got other things in store for you, my little slut!”   I pushed her knees out to the side, which lowered her torso a few inches.  Her asshole was now even with my cock—and, with her legs spread wide, her ass cheeks were pulled wide apart!

Very enticing!

Karen was almost in the right position.  I grabbed her wrists, and pulled them to the small of her back, and clamped my large hands over them.  Then I gathered her hair back down her neck, and pulled it all together, wrapping her mane around my knuckles, so I had it gripped, at her shoulder blades.  I pulled her head back, and held her wrists really tightly, pressing them down right at the small of her back.

I wanted complete control over her for what was coming next.

I pulled out of her cunt, and positioned the tip of my hard prick right on the little rosette of her asshole.

I pushed. 

“NOOO!”  Karen screamed, pulling away from the rock, and twisting a bit.  I had figured she’d resist this, even if it were involuntary, and, with her hair still wrapped all entwined in my knuckles I pushed her back down.  “Noo…NO!  Please-please-please-not that-NOT THAAAAT—NOOOOO!!” 

Her scream went everywhere, yet nowhere.

The little brook continued to gurgle peacefully away.

“Shut the fuck up you little cunt and stay put, you’re getting cock up your shitter whether you like it or not!”  I roared back.  I pushed in again, but frankly it was tough. She was moving back and forth, and she had one tight little asshole!  I made a quick decision, and let go of her hair, and jammed her criss-crossed wrists up her back, to force some pain compliance and also to keep her down on the rock.  I took my hard cock in hand, and positioned it again right at the tiny, pink pucker of her arse, and managed to spread her ass crack wide a bit with my knuckles, and I pushed in.

In, in, IN!  Frankly, it was kind of hard, but I got the bulbous tip of my prick firmly implanted in her ass.  I pushed a bit, and slid in a little further, and the tight rim of her anus enclosed me, and it felt good, warm, and such a nice tight fit.  I gave her a few thrusts, and Karen stopped screaming, but kept crying, “No, no, please, onmygod, not this, no, I’ve never…oh, it hurts, it HURTS!  Ow-OW!”  It was thrilling to rape this cute cheerleader’s tight little ass and hear her scream in pain and beg so much.  Although she rocked around a bit, she didn’t really try to push me away or twist herself out of the way.

I pulled out a bit, leaving just the cock head in, and pushed in, hard, and got really deep this time.  Most of my prick was now implanted in Karen’s pretty little derriere.  Out, and all the way back in.   Out and in.  Out and in.  In and out.  I started raping her asshole in earnest now, and Karen, immobilized with her arms behind her back, just cried and whimpered as I mercilessly sodomized her.

As I said, I know my libido, and I know that I can usually get a couple of pretty sturdy erections over the course of a couple of hours, but the second one usually calls for a  good bit more fucking.  I felt Karen relax a bit.  I eased off on her wrists a little, and kind of settled in for an extended fuck, as I continued to rape her butt, enjoying the feel of the elastic ring of her asshole as my cock slid in and out of it.  It stretched a bit, and there was enough, er, lubrication to make things more comfortable.  Karen whimpered away, “Ooo, oh-oh-uh!-ow, oh!” and so on, but I didn’t know how much was pain and how much was shame.

I just fucked her and raped her and kept thrusting into her and shoving my meat deep up her ass; it went on and on, and it felt so good.  I finally let go of her wrists, and she just let them fall to the side of the rock.  Karen was in perfect submission.  “Oh, oh, oh-oh-uh!-uh!-Owwww…!!”  She lay there, draped passively over the cold hard rock, offering no resistance as I banged away at her butt.

But she did moan, groan, cry, and occasionally offer up a weak plaintiff, “Oh, please,…..just finish,…it hurts…oh….no more….ohhhhh….ooooo….”

I had raped the cheerleader’s cherry cunt.

I was now raping her virgin ass.

And it was was hurting her.

I was thoroughly defiling her.

Karen was in pain.

I beheld at her beautiful face, her lovely blonde hair falling over the rock, spilling across her noble cheeks and blue eyes. I memorized the lines of her exquisite teen body as I pushed in and out, so I would always have the mental pictures of what I was doing to my kidnapped schoolgirl.

Her firm ass cheeks were smooth and cool against my hips when I shoved my meat deep into her.

I was getting hotter and hotter.  It’s a different feel, fucking a girl’s asshole, and I slid it out, adjusted her angle up the rock a bit higher, and shoved my meat back into her pussy, and fucked that for a few more minutes—and that was really getting my, well, cocked!

But I had it in my mind to finish up sodomizing the girl.  I had already shot my seed into her pussy.  This fuck-job felt good, but it was calling for more time, and, well, work, as I used the more natural fit of her cunt to build me up higher and hotter.  When I felt those inklings of climax getting more intense, I pulled Karen down the rock a little, and pressed her thighs outwards again.    She was really quite compliant, just going on with a rhythmic moaning and I fucked her and fucked her.  Then I slid out of her pussy, and shoved myself back into her butt, hardly missing a stroke! 

Karen moaned. “Ooooooo.”  She sure wasn’t enjoying any of this!  I held her by her hips, and resumed buggering her trim little backside.   She was so passive now, almost limp.  She could only endure until I was done, and as I drove my prick in and out of her cute little rosette, I happened to check my watch, and I figured I’d been doing her backside for over 20 minutes.  I reamed her on and on and on, her beautiful body was so very limp as I steadily rose towards my climax.

“You’re getting quite a fuck, huh, Karen?”  I was breathing heavily and I pushed my meat back into her cunt.  “You’re going to be a very popular girl when I’m done with you, you’ll know just how to make every boy on the football team very, very happy!” I grabbed her ass, plunging in good and deep, so my belly was right up against those smooth, cool cheeks of her ass.

And then it happened.  It kind of snuck up on me, that orgasm, but I was just pounding away in her ass, and in an abrupt instant of white heat, I my semen shot up the center of my shaft and burst into her.  I pulled myself tight against her, plunging deep into her bowls, “Yeah, Karen—this is it—you’re getting my cum in your ass!” And another load of semen shot into her.

Then a third.

I pulled back, and drove into her ass again—and then a fourth.  It spewed into her bowels!  It was kind of astonishing, how much I had, as yet another gush flowed up- prick and into her firm little butt.   Then it was beginning to dissipate, and a couple more small, but intensely pleasant,  emissions just let loose into the poor girl’s backside.  I shoved my meat in as hard and deep as I could, hitting the turn of her anal canal inside her rectum, and was rewarded with a few small, last spurts and dribbles of cum issuing into my beautiful little cheerleader.  I fell forward, collapsing atop Karen.

We were both breathing heavily. I was really sweating! Her back felt nice under me, soft and cool, and I found myself stroking her shoulders and upper arms, savoring this last moment of rape, her young skin so soft and creamy.  Neither of us said anything.  She lay beneath me, kind of inert except for her catching her breath.  So I just lay upon her, fondling her hair and stroking her arms and shoulders a bit.

I kept my penis deep inside her rectum. It was a little odd, but felt good, knowing that I had profoundly violated my captive, in a way she surely deemed loathsome.

Karen was a very thoroughly raped teenage girl.  So pristine and innocent girl a couple of hours ago, I know had her squeezed against a cold boulder, with my vicious penis implanted deep in her butt.  I kind of meditated on her defilement while I studied the side of her face and casually twisted bits of silken blonde hair in my fingers.  All the while, I was kind of thinking to myself, I did it. 

I did it!

I kidnapped this perfectly lovely, utterly virginal schoolgirl, and I’ve raped her.

I’ve shoved my cock into her cunt, and then her ass, and I’ve raped her.

Twice!

She’s defiled, and I did it.

I violated her.

I did it!

Hot damn, I fucking did it!

End of Part 2  (Of 3)

Warning!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and nonconsexual sex. If you do not like such stories, please turn back. I don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Anyone who commits rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right so long as no one is hurt.

Karen:

My Rape of An All-American Princess

By “Prey4Me”

Part 3  (Of 3)

Mf, rape, 1st, Mdom

The following is a work of erotic fiction, involving the rape of a perfectly innocent eighteen-year-old girl. It is intended only for persons over eighteen. Any similarity between the characters and real persons is coincidental and utterly improbable.  The author does not condone or encourage non-consensual sex.  If your reading this goes beyond the mere enjoyment of fantasy to the attempt of forced sex, then either get competent help or a castration or both.

Our Story So Far

       Early in the afternoon, I encountered a teenage girl of extraordinary sweetness and loveliness.  I gave in to an impulse, and exploited a unique opportunity to kidnap her; I then took her to a derelict farmhouse.  There, I took my time, enjoying this rare beauty, and raped her: first with some cocksucking, and then a long vaginal rape.  I took her to an outdoor site, and forced her to pose for photos in a wide array of clothed, partly disrobed, and nude.  This got me excited again, and I raped her again, alternating between sodomizing her and vaginal penetration.  All this pretty well sapped my libido, and I have taken my violated virgin back to the car, where I prepare for returning her home.

PART III

My beautiful Karen awkwardly—painfully, it would seem—pushed herself off the boulder to an unsteady stance upon the irregular rocks of the riverbed.  Oddly, I was awed by the peacefulness and sanctity of this little niche in the vacant farmland: so heavenly, and yet Karen had just had a bit of hell visited upon her!  “Come on, baby,” I announced.  “Time to go.  Party’s over.”

       She looked at me,  blankly.  “Come on, cunt!  Get your things, and get going!”  I pointed at her clothes, which were strewn over the rocks.  The bra was dangling by a ribbony strap from a protruding piece of driftwood.  Her panties had fallen in between some stones, and her slip—damn, that was a sexy little thing!—was draped over a kind of a ledge.  Her other things were scattered.  Her blouse, skirt, and knee-highs, which she had put on and taken off various times for various shoot sequences, were scattered around.

       Karen started bending down, and she was quite a sight.  Even to my thoroughly sated libido.  Her long hair fell forward, obscuring her face.  Her trim cheerleader ass pushed up and backward, giving me a view of her red-and-brown-smeared nethers.  She had such perfect tits: they fell downwards just a little, but there was no droop or sway whatsoever as she bent and moved about.  I tell you, it was  still a real thrill to look at her, just enjoying the sight of this perfect teenager, with the lingering sensation that I had raped her, violated her, very thoroughly, and twice at that. 

       Karen gathered her things, rolling them up in her pleated skirt, and then stopped, waiting, looking down at the rocks.  There was sadness on her face, and if there were a gram of the humanitarian in me, I would have felt badly for her.  But, knowing that her pitiful condition was all because of me I was perversely gladdened.  Only another sadist can understand how giddy I was, as I contemplated the loveliness of her misery.

       It was a successful abduction and very gratifying rape, but somehow I wasn’t finished enjoying and abusing beautiful young Karen. My appetite for her far exceeded my lust:  I just couldn’t get enough of my lovely prey in the few hours available to me.   I beckoned for her to approach me.  She gingerly stepped over the rocks.  “Kiss me, baby,” I quietly ordered.  She leaned forward, and her hair graced my shoulders.  I held her by her nape, and Frenched her.  Then I slid off the rock I was sitting on, and we made our way out of the riverbed to the car.  I stopped for a few last pictures.  A particularly nice one had her captured from just below her breasts, her hair falling over half her face, covering her left eye and temple.  She looked morosely into the camera, with a large tear trickling down her right cheek from that bright blue eye.

       Back at the car, we both put on our clothes.  I interrupted her when she had her lingerie on, so I could hold, hug, stroke, and fondle her through her shimmery nylon.  Then we finished.  I mounted the laptop on the car trunk, connected the cable from the camera, and loaded the images.  Then I ran through them into my photo organizer.  They were all good, and a lot of them were really superb.  I pointed this out to Karen, as I scrolled down.

       “This is nice, honey,” I informed her. “Real art.  Porno, sure, but it’s art!”   I felt avuncular, pointing out how beautiful she was, and how various poses were artistic, and others were just licentious.  And I kept reminding her that millions of men would adore looking at her naked images.  “Your bush looks really cute here—nice and trim—you could pass for 14, maybe 13 in this shot!”  Karen was passive as I gloated over my inventory of probably a few hundred shots.  I had everything from Karen, in her school uniform, posed demurely upon a rock with her pleats spilling from her hips, to schoolgirl-slut with her fingers spreading her cunt lips!

       “Now you know what I have.  Within an hour of releasing you, I’m going to have these uploaded onto a confidential web site.  And I will set up an automatic mailing program.  I’ll hack into your school for all the email addresses and I’ll set up links to hundreds of porno sites.  Karen, baby, you have no idea of the smut that’s out there, and I can assure you, there are millions—millions! —of guys out there who would really love to look at a beautiful blonde American school girl like you, taking her clothes off, getting naked…. playing with herself…”

       I paused. “You get the idea!”  I was leaning against the car; Karen was standing before me, her arms to her side, looking pensively at the ground, or rather, defeated.  I put my arms on her waist, and pulled her to me, embracing her.  She looked so beautiful and appealing and fuckable, and I embraced her, putting my mouth to her ear.  Her silken hair tickled and caressed my face.  I hugged her, and stroked her torso, feeling her curves, the lines of her bra, through her white cotton blouse. 

       I kept holding her, stroking and fondling my schoolgirl, whispering into her ear.  “You know you’re beautiful, but you have no idea how guys look at you, what they think when you walk by, your pleated little skirt swishing and swaying about your knees.”  I reached down, and took hold of Karen’s skirt, pulling it up.

“We want to lift up your skirt, Karen.”

       I kissed her ear, and slid my fingers up her thigh.

       “We want to touch you where boys aren’t supposed to touch you.”

       I gave her a little squeeze, and my hand went back around her panties again.

       “Millions of guys want to do what I can do to you right now.  The smallest interest by the cops, and they get to look at you, naked!”

       I kissed my captive Karen.  “But first I’m going to send them to boys and men and teachers and priests and the janitor and everybody in your school, Karen.”   She was a defeated girl, if not a good one, and she stood still, leaning in to me, while I pawed and fondled her.  I was just greedy for her, there’s no other way of saying it.  Even with my libido expended, I just had to have more of her, this drop-dead little lovely who was the object of desire of any male who saw her.

       I reached down to her thigh and pinched a bit of her woolen skirt, and pulled it up.  Then I grabbed the rest of her skirt, and her satin half-slip, too, and she was standing next to my, kind of cradled on my side, and I slid my hand once again into the waistband of her panties.  I immediately went to her snatch.

       Karen winced.  “Please,” she softly intoned.  “Haven’t you done enough?  I mean—you’ve fucked me twice, Mister.  Aren’t you, well, done?  Please, take me home. Please….I promise I won’t ever tell anybody, I mean it, just take me home.”

       With her hair pushed backwards, her patrician face was sexy in a sorrowful way.

       And lovelier than ever.

       I extracted another kiss, and she not only yielded, but she met my tongue with hers, pushing softly back upon mine.  Her arms were limp to her side, and I adjusted her angle sideways so my free hand could dig deeper into her crotch. Her demeanor seemed full of melancholy.

       Passive resignation and melancholy.

       But Karen kept kissing me.  This was not a gesture of affection or desire.  She had never been deeply kissed, and knew little of these things.  It was mimicry of my invasive lust, a pathetic desire to placate me.  As I had commanded her, she kept those exquisite light blue eyes open so I could look into them while I forced my kisses upon her small, sweet mouth.  I noticed our breathing was in harmony.

       I leaned down a bit, and Karen compliantly tilted her head back, and I finger-fucked her inside her panties.  Even now, the feel of her silken panties against my knuckles was so very nice, almost exciting, I was having grand time gouging two fingers into her well-raped pussy.  She spread her legs, squatting just a little, to accommodate me.  I dug my digit in, deeply and crudely.  I located her clit, and flicked it up and down.

       Three hours ago she was a happy little schoolgirl from an exclusive Catholic school, pure as the driven snow, with dozens of boys harboring secret crushes on her, --and teachers, I’m sure!  I mused, as I dug my fingers in and around her fuck-channel.  Now I’ve raped her twice, deflowered two fuck holes, and she’s standing next to me, her little skirt pulled up, kissing me back while I finger fuck her!

       I pushed my thumb in, gripping the bottom of her crotch with my palm.  “Spread your thighs wider, darling.”  My voice was soft, a different abuse, using romantic intonation. 

       Karen complied, but lowering herself made her a touch unsteady.  I pivoted her back so she was leaning back against the car, and I pushed her over the rear boot.  Just as when I started, her white blouse stretched smoothly over her breasts, such nice teenage mounds!  Her hair was fanned out over the black enamel, Karen looked up blankly, and all of a sudden, I just wanted to rape her again, to violate her, to penetrate her like she had never been penetrated and never would be, just for the sheer malicious pleasure of raping her!  If I had deflowered her already, I wanted to crush those remaining petals of girlish naiveté, this aristocratic schoolgirl draped backwards over my car render with her plaid pleated skirt pushed up and my thumb shoved up her cunt!

       I pressed my forearm down on her chest to keep her steady for the assault yet to come, a violation she might have sensed but could not know anything about.  My right hand dug deeper into her crotch, gripping and pulling upwards with my palm and fingers.  I paused for just a moment, and my eyes feasted on the sight.  As I said, Karen’s white blouse was stretched, and she still looked so young and cute from the waist up.  But below the waistband of her skirt, she was pure teenage fuckmeat, with her skirt and half-slip up, her panties—which had slipped down her hips a bit—stretched tight, and my big hand digging into her snatch!

       I curled my middle finger, and slid it up and into her asshole.

       I might not have been able to fuck her again, but I wasn’t through, well, fucking her!  Karen’s bright blue eyes widened, and she gasped.  Her hands had been lying limply on the car, but she started to wave them around, feeling blindly for something to grip.  I dug my fuck-finger in deeper, and Karen’s hands balled into fists, unclenched, slid around the shiny metal, and were fisted again.  “Ooooohhh….OOOO!”  I pressed my forearm down harder to remind her that she had better not resist.  “NNNNOOOOooooo!!…please, please, please, PLEASE, oh, it hurts….OW!  Uh-uh-UH—OWWWWW!”

       I answered the schoolgirl’s entreaties by pinching my middle finger in towards the thumb that was in her cunt!  And I really gripped her intimate tissues, prying my digits back and forth, in and out, giving her pussy and anus a real work-over.  She was good and wet inside both holes, from my semen and her blood and her juices and sweat and everything else, this was one well-raped girl!

       I knew that I had her way past discomfort—I was really hurting her.

       Karen was crying again, and her white-sleeved arms were flailing all over the place. “Oh-no-oh-no-OW—OWW!” She was shifting her body back and forth, and tried to get her elbows down on the car surface to gain leverage.  “Ohmygodohmygod—please—PLEASE!!—oh stop oh stop please I’m-begging-you-please, please stop!”  But before she could pry herself loose I slid my arm off her chest—damn, her tits looked nice as they heaved up and down under her uniform blouse!!—and I shoved it right up to her neck, pressing it hard against her windpipe.  That aborted her rants and ravings, and she emitted a throaty grunt, “Urrrgggh!” and immediately settled down, except for a bit of twitching on her legs and hips.

       She endured it submissively, and I attacked her intimates with renewed viciousness, clawing away, pinching, squeezing, digging, prying.  She turned a little pale, and I eased off on her neck, and Karen tilted her head back, gulping air.  Her hair was all over the black enamel, and looked sexy as hell, but she didn’t know that. Nor was she aware of just how fantastic her 34B tits were, rising and falling and heaving beneath the white cotton, that it made her buttons strain and open, and her satin bra peaked through.   She just gasped and moaned, and I leaned into her, keeping her immobile while I abused her most sensitive tissues with wild abandon.

       Having caught her breath, she began to beg again.  “Oh, please, mister—ow!—oh, stop, stop, just let me go, I-I-I can’t take, take it any more…” she sobbed, “what-what-what do you want, what?”

       I didn’t answer.

       There was no answer.

       What I wanted was just what I was doing.

       Hurting her.

       Abusing her.

       Violating her intimately.

       Raping her.

       Ruining her!

       I grabbed Karen’s generous yellow locks, right at the nape, and pulled her forward a bit, and forced another wet, sensuous kiss, covering her small pink lips with mine, and continued to dig my fingers into her holes.  Then I noticed something, which frankly surprised me, but also delighted me.

       I felt a twinge of arousal in my crotch.

       Yes, yes!  I pressed myself against her side, undulating my hips across her exposed thigh, and kissed her and double-finger-fucked her, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes from which tears were copiously falling.  She was hurting, and I was getting horny.  Unbelievable.

       I pulled back from my invasive rape-kiss for a breath.  Karen really let go.  She twisted a little, but a pull on her nape and a dig into her crotch settled her down right away.  “Oh. Ohhhh…..OW!…Please, please…uh..Mister, what-what do you want, please stop, I’ll do anything you want, just stop…”

       I relaxed.  I adored this girl, and so loved hurting her.  I gave her cunt a pinch with my thumb.

       “YOW!  Please, sir, mister, master, what—whatever you want, I’ll do it, just stop it, please, oh, stop it, stop-it-stop-it….ohhhhhh….”

       “Anything?” I asked.  “You’ll do anything and everything, but it’s good for you to say it.”  I pulled my fingers out of her holes, and guided her to an upright position.  Her skirt dropped down to her trim knees.  I pulled my suffering captive into an embrace, and brushed her hair away from her temple, and whispered into her pretty ear, “You’re going to do what I want, things you never dreamed of doing before I let you go, Karen, my lovely little fuck-toy! Now put your arms around me, and kiss me like you would a boyfriend.

       And lovely, raped-and-abused eighteen-year-old Karen—sobbing--embraced me and kissed me, softly and sweetly.  I took my right hand—the one that was just digging into her snatch a moment ago—and tilted her head up to me.  With my index finger, I traced her nose, her cheek, her lips.  I deep-kissed her, relishing the shared wetness on our lips.

       “Open your mouth, Karen.”        She parted her lips. Then I slid my middle finger—the one that had been stuck her asshole—into it.  The girl recoiled, grimacing at the smell and taste of her shit on my finger.

       “Open your mouth, Karen!  Now do it!”

       “Oh..no….” then she thought better of it, and opened her pretty little mouth.  I slid the finger back in, pressing on her tongue.

       “Now, suck it!”  Karen closed her eyes and grimaced.  Then she closed her mouth over it, and squeezed it with her lips and mouth.  I moved my finger in and out, and was rewarded with slight—very slight—sucking, genuine sucking, on my finger.  “I think you can do better than that, Karen, honey,”  I teased.  “Suck it!”

       And she did.  I could tell it was repulsive, but suck my finger she did, and I moved it in and out until it was good and wet and rather cleaned of the various bodily fluids and substances that had smeared it.  With that done, I put in my thumb, then index finger, into her mouth, and she sucked and cleaned them, too. 

       I noticed she had her arms wrapped tightly around her tummy.

       Yeah, that beautiful, flat teenage tummy of hers.  I could tell it was making her sick there!  Even so, after a few minutes of this, I was getting bored, and I wanted to do something more in the little while I figured I could still keep her before her mother freaked out and called the authorities.  I knew I was taking a huge chance, and every quarter-hour increased it.  But I was powerfully attracted to lovely, eighteen-year-old Karen, to enjoying her, defiling her, violating her even more.

I was utterly enchanted by her blonde teen perfection.

And my extraordinary opportunity to rape her.

When my fingers were somewhat clean, I ran them through her long blonde hair, drying them.  The girl was quite passive, speaking only when she had to answer.  She neither resisted nor cooperated—she just complied with an air of downcast defeat.  I put her between the car and me, pressing my hips in against her while I stroked her arms, back, torso, and tits.  Although sexually sated, I just couldn’t get enough of my little cheerleader!

And my loins concurred.  The more I grabbed and touched my little fuck-bait, the more I felt twitches and those delightful little spasms at the tip of my cock.  I could feel my balls getting warm, and a pleasant resonance began to circulate in my prick, and then emanate out to my belly, my hips, and then the rest of me.

Astonishingly, I was getting hard again.  I pressed in on Karen, my crotch focusing on Karen’s, even if there were pants and skirt and underwear between us.  I could feel the swath of woolen pleats sliding over and about her slip.  She was passive, bordering on limp as once again I pushed her backwards over the curve of the fender, but my prick was becoming anything but limp!

I was like the glutton going back to the desert bar for a third helping—I just had to do it, but was, well, a little dubious about whether I could actually pull it off.  But I had to, I just had to try, to fuck this once-in-a-lifetime lovely little rape-bait one more time.

I stepped back, and quickly kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants and shorts simultaneously.  Tell you the truth, going for my third fuck in two hours, well, I felt my stamina might be a little doubtful.  When Karen saw my erection—I was pointing straight out, not up, not yet anyway—she emitted a little cry, and put her hands to her dropped face.  I’m sure she knew more sex was in order, but she couldn’t know just what.  I moved to the side, opened the right-side car door, and sat on the passenger seat, keeping my feet outside.  “Come here,” I ordered.  “Get on your knees—right here.”  I pointed to the ground by the car door.

“Uhhh…no. please, not that, not that too!”  Karen kind of whimpered. She was looking at my groin.  I looked down, too, and just then noticed that there was the dried smearing, a kind of light off-brown, of everything I had picked up in her pussy and asshole:  smeared shit, blood, her pussy juice, and my semen.  “Oh…no…it’s, it’s gross!”   I was in no mood to put up with any kind of crap.  I stepped towards her, grabbing her by her hair and tripping her over my ankle.  I heaved the cheerleader onto the ground.  She went sprawling, and her pleated skirt wrapped around her hips and thighs.  She started to push herself off the ground, but I planted the heel of my bare foot on her shoulder blade, good and hard, flattening her.

“You know what I want, bitch, and you’re going to do it!”  Karen lay on the ground, cradling her face in her arms, and I could hear her crying again from underneath the mass of blonde hair that covered her head and face.  Her skirt was wrapped tightly, high up her thighs, and she looked so good, so hurt, so damned fuckable. “You said you’d do anything.  Damn it, you’ll do anything!  And I mean it!”   I pulled her by her hair, gripping the waistband of her skirt for a bit more leverage.  She struggled to her feet, and I guided her to the side of the car.  I sat down on the passenger seat, pulling her roughly towards me, pressing her shoulders down.  My little fuck-toy got on her knees between my legs.  My hard-on was, well, losing steam a little, and I pulled her aristocratic young face right into my crotch. 

“Such my cock, you whore, suck it good, and if I feel your teeth I’m going to knock every one of them out!”  She looked up at me with dread on her face, her thin pink lips just slightly parted, and kind of whimpered, “Noooo…”  But I pulled her hair hard and positioned  my pink cock-tip right on her lips.

“Open!” I shouted.  “You cock-teasing prissy little bitch!  Open your mouth and suck my prick!”   She looked up at me with one last plaintiff expression, and parted the thin lips of her small mouth, and oh-so-slowly lowered her face.  “Come on…..”  I growled, and my lovely little Karen, so innocent until a couple of hours ago, let the head of my manhood slide into her mouth.

She closed her mouth so very gingerly.  “Come on, bitch, take more of it in!”  I growled again.  Her lips felt very light as she moved her head forward, and a couple more inches of my man-meat  were now inside that warm, moist cavity. She looked up at me, with such an expression of revulsion—then pulled away.

“U-ugh!  UGH!  I’m-I’m sorry, sir, please, mister, it-it tastes so, …oh, it tastes so..mister, ….I…
       “You mean it tastes like shit?”

“Yes!”

“Well that’s your shit you’re tasting, so damnit, suck my cock—clean it off with your mouth, whatever, just suck it! Clean it—clean the shit, clean the blood, and there’s gotta be some cum on it, too, so  SUCK IT!”  I took the heel of my palm, and slammed her right on her left temple, good and hard.  Karen went sprawling again, and lay weeping on the crushed grass.  Her skirt was up her legs, around the back of her thighs, and damn, there was that flirty little half-slip peeking out at me, the lace hinting at the feminine delights to which I could still avail myself!

I was getting impatient, and very pissed off.

I pulled her up by her hair, rolled her onto her back, and sat on her flat tummy.  I was really pissed.

I had lost my erection.

“You’re gonna get it one more time, girl, I’m gonna fuck you one more time, for sure, and you’re going to help, you understand me you spoiled little brat bitch?”  I slapped her, right-to-left.  She let out a yelp, and tried to buck, but I had her pinned down good.  “You’re going to get on your little cheerleader knees, cunt, right between my legs, and you’re going to suck my prick until I get hard again and then I’m going to rape you again!”   And I slapped her, left-to-right, and she shrieked again, and really let go with the tears.  “Got it?”  She got three, four more slaps, and her head rocked back and forth.  The girl was sobbing, gasping for breath, crying, out of control. 

“I’m gonna do you, Karen!  You’re so beautiful, so lovely—I have to have you, you better understand, one more time, I have to fuck you, rape you—damn it, you’re every man’s fantasy, you’re so perfect, so beautiful, and if I don’t fuck you one more time, I’m going to hurt you so bad---” I didn’t know quite how to finish it. Funny, I was dithering like I was in love with her, which I was, in an evil and dangerous way.  I caught my breath.   “You’re going to get me hard again.  You’re going to suck my prick, damn it, and when I’m good and hard it’s going right in your pussy!”

I found I had gripped her hair at the sides of her head and was pulling on her scalp.  Small rivers of tears ran down her temples, and Karen had a look of real terror on face.  She gulped for air, but sort of nodded “yes.”  But she was slow to obey. 

Stress or shock I guess.  My honor student seemed numb. 

I hit her on her left temple.  The heel of my right hand found good solid skull bone.  She spun off to the side.

“No more crap, girl.  Suck me till I’m hard—then I’m going to rape you, one last time.”

“…(yes)…”  she whispered.  I gave her another “whap!” across the top of her head, and stood up. 

“Now get in position, Candy-crotch!  On your knees, face in my crotch!”  She pushed herself up, instinctively straightening and brushing her blouse and skirt.  Girl just can’t help being a lady, it seems.  This time I leaned back against the car, spread my legs.  I motioned her to come to me, and she crawled forward.  I took hold of her hair behind her ears and guided her face to my prick.

It was pointing straight out now, parallel with the ground.  She closed her eyes, opened her small mouth, and slid it forward over my meat.  She closed her mouth gently, and my manhood was encased in moist warmth.  I let her just hold it there for a minute, enjoying the soft warmth.  Then I guided her head back, forward, back, forward—small, easy movements.  I tilted her head a little this way, then that, and picked up the speed.  Karen started rocking forward and back.  She was generating spit, and paused every once in a while to swallow and catch her breath. 

Which meant that she was sipping on whatever my dick had been covered with.

My cum.

Her blood.

Her shit.

But she got right back in position each time, and soon learned to combine a raising and lowering of her head as she rocked to and fro.

“Some day you’re going to be in a guy’s arms, and he’ll hold you like I’m holding you now.  He’s going to tell you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.   And then you’ll think of today, and wish you could give your body to him, for the very first time, except you can’t, because I got you first.  You’ll wish you were clean and pure, but you won’t be, because I stole you, and stole your virginity, and defiled you.  And I’m not through, my lovely young Karen.  You’re going to get me hard, and then you’re going to fuck me!” 

I held her for a moment, this schoolgirl sweetie, running my hands over her blouse, up and down the curve of her hips and rear, and combing her hair smooth with my splayed fingers.  She settled down while I talked dirty to her, and reminded her of just how nice it felt when my cock was deep in her teenage body.  “When we fuck this one last time, Karen,”  I said quietly—feeling my prick begin to tingle with desire again—I want you to think about how every man who looks at you, and admires your beauty, wants to do to you what I’ve been doing—to get good and hard and fuck the daylights out of you!”

She nodded a little, her head on my shoulder. 

Her hair was a mess, but she looked so nice in her blouse and blue plaid skirt, falling and circling around her knees and shins, eating my meat in her pretty young mouth. 

She tightened her mouth, snug and not too tight, and I felt my loins tingle afresh with the pressure of her warm, wet mouth.  She moved her head up and down must a little, and in a mere moment, Karen had gotten me good and hard. 

I guided her head back and forth, controlling the rhythm.  I hate to think what I tasted like, after two penetrations.    She was grimacing, squeezing her eyes shut, but damn it, she was getting the hang of it, picking up the pace, and in a few more minutes her blonde head was bobbing up and down, and she was swallowing most of my shaft.  I smoothed her hair out, still awed by how cute she looked, what with her skirt pleats circling her knees, and her navy knee-high socks extending behind her.  Once, she pulled off, but started jerking me with her little fist;  “please…just let me…catch my…breath,…” she implored.  She cleared her throat, swallowed, took a breath and my lovely little cocksucker went right back to work.

       I was super hard again, and that horniness, that desire to push to a climax, was beginning to percolate in the fiendish depths of my loins.  I guided her head off me, and stepped to the trunk, where I had a blanket.  I spread it quickly on the ground.  I got on it, and motioned for her to join me.

She stepped over to me, and I slid my hands up her legs, under her blue skirt.  I went right up to the waist of her satin-striped panties, and slid them down, right over her knees, her knee-highs, her ankles. 

She stepped out of them.

I lay down on the blanket, on my back.  My prick was standing up, pointing to the darkening sky.

“Suck me off a bit more, girl.  You’re good—you’ll be a top-flight cocksucker for the football team, you gorgeous little cocksucker!   Lie down here—this way.”  She did so, her head to my lap, and my head to hers.  She positioned herself, and resumed sucking.  Her hair fell about her face and my groin, caressing and tickling me.  There was no resistance or flinching as I slid her skirt and satiny half-slip up her legs, exposing her perfect girlflesh to my appreciative eyes.  I propped myself up on an elbow, stroking and groping her without restraint while her mouth continued to minister to my prick. I pawed her, and stuck my fingers into her pussy and shit-hole in various combinations. 

There was no flinching or avoidance.  She had become quite a fuckbunny!

My little honor student was a quick study, and was now applying good lip pressure and some tongue action as well.  We both twisted and adjusted a bit, and she had most of my maleness swallowed, and I could feel the tip of my prick nestled in the top of her throat, a nice snug fit. I lay back, enraptured by the sensations of my sweet little cocksucker bringing such ecstasy to my prick, with her hair falling down teasing and tickling my crotch.  I didn’t have to move a muscle.  Karen was doing it all.

I wanted her to do more, and to do it all herself.  I tapped her on her forehead; she let go of my meat, and made eye contact with me.   Her face was expectant for her next instructions. 

“Stand up.”

She arose, giving me a nice view up her blue skirt, right up to the middle of her thighs.  “Now stand over me, one foot on each side.”

And she did.  Funny, but I don’t think she really knew what was going to happen next, but I didn’t waste any time.

“Sit down on my dick, baby.  This time you fuck me! “  I tugged the hem of her pleated skirt.  Karen hesitated made a face, and got down on her knees, straddling me.  “Come on—slide you pussy onto my prick, baby.  You know what to do, whore!”  I took a handful of woolen pleats and slip, pushing it up to her belly. Her soft cunt hair pressed down on my dick, and I wiggled it around her snatch a bit.

I wanted to watch her cunt accommodate this, my third penetration of my eighteen-year-old ingénue.  Not that she was still an “innocent!”  She straddled me. With one hand, I held up her slip and skirt, and with the other, I was rubbing my dick upwards against her.  Then she figured out what to do, and rocked forward and back against me.

“Come on—this is called ‘girl-on-top,’ and you’ll find you can fuck lots of guys this way, especially in a car. Lower yourself down on my cock, whore.   Now do it!”

She adjusted her position, and took hold of my hard-on.  With her other hand, she spread her pussy lips with two fingers, leaned forward a bit, and slid herself down onto me.  Half my dick was swallowed in her cunt, and she stopped.  “Come on, you little bitch!  All the way!”  Karen inhaled deeply, and lowered herself the rest of the way, and our bellies met, enjoined by the full length of my hard dick.

And it was good, so good.  “Yeahhhhhh, Karen baby, yeah…..”  I lay all the way back, arching my back.  I clenched my butt muscles and pushed up into her a bit, “Come on, baby, fuck me, yeah….fuck me.  You’re turning into a fantastic slut, girl, huh?  You know what to do by now, do it!”  And she rose and fell with little humps.  But I kept pushing up at her with little stabs, and before long she learned to meet me and you know, we were fucking in earnest!  Watching her pussy ride my prick was an added treat, and I held her skirt up so I could get a good view.  And the truth is, back in her high school uniform, she was cute as hell, except for her hair being all mussed up. It was sexy as hell, what with her in that white blouse and the blue plaid skirt pushed up to her waist, the pleats falling down her hips onto the ground.

The fuck went on and on.  I generated a rhythm of little upward jabs, and she met them—or should I say mated them—with corresponding drops.  “Give me a little squeeze with your cunt muscles, honey, when you come down on me!”  Karen complied immediately. I let go of her skirt, and our loins were hidden from view, but it was nice to fondle her tits through her uniform blouse.  Then I unbuttoned it to the skirt band, and cupped them through her satin bra.  I decided not to squeeze them too hard.  A pain response from her might disrupt the perfect rhythm we had.

Occasionally, I pulled her by her hair, not hard, having her lean down so she could kiss me.  She put her fingers in my hair, and our tongues played together, all while she moved her thighs and hips up and down, up and down, fucking me, fucking me, fucking me!

It went on and on, and I wish I could tell you how perfect it was, being so gloriously fucked by this gloriously lovely schoolgirl!  And all of eighteen, at the cusp of her perfect womanhood!  As I expected, this third erection was going to take a lot of stimulation to bring me up to climax, and I lay back, relishing every sensation, watching her do the work of drawing the blood up into my penis, and my lust up from my loins—except for those little upthrusts.

This fuck (well, rape, actually) must have been going on for twenty, maybe thirty minutes.  I had forgotten to check my watch, but it was beginning to get dark and chilly.   Karen had been silent for the most part, except for occasional moans, sights, and “uhhh’s” or a “yes, sir” to my occasional instruction, but she finally broke out, “Please, mister, how long—will—this…take?  It’s, it’s well, I’m so tired and my knees hurt, and, and….my vagina is so sore, it hurts!  Aren’t you , well, done?”

I pulled her down, so she was lying right on top of me.  Her tussled hair fell over my face, and I found her ear.  We paused, my manhood impaling her deeply.  “After a guy’s had an orgasm or two, Karen, it takes a longer while to get off.  A guy needs a few hours or a night to really get his stamina back to normal.  When you’re more experienced you’ll know that.  So just get back to work and keep fucking me!”

“Oooooo, please!”  she wailed.

“There’s no telling how long it will take.  But rest assured, I’m enjoying every second.  No get back to work, whore!”

Well, pain and distress would only be a distraction, so I had her to stretch her legs out, lie atop me, but to straddle me with her thighs and keep fucking me.  With her weight off her knees, Karen resumed her assigned duty with a fresh energy.  Karen was petite, and no burden at all.  I wrapped my arms around her lithe torso, running my hands over the cotton covering her back, down to her skirt, feeling her ass cheeks through the strewn pleats. 

My first fuck, the hard rape, had been damned good, but she was tight and dry then.  Now she was stretched and lubricated, and felt fantastic as she slid up and down my pole.  And, well, having her in her Catholic school uniform added a perversely spiritual thrill.   I found that I was, at last, discerning the first rumblings of climax in my ball sack.  Karen was lying atop me, looking a bit vacant in the face, her gaze off to the side, but did a good job riding my dick.  Her skirt and slip was pulled all the way up, and I squeezed and groped her trim ass cheeks.  I used that grip to adjust her speed and position, to make sure she met my needs.

I’ll guess we were approaching a half-hour, and I was getting intensely horny.  “Pick up the pace, baby, a bit faster, there…..”  She accelerated, and I had her pull her legs tighter against my thighs, when I noticed she was gripping my shoulders, and breathing harder.  I pushed her head up, and her eyes were closed, face clenched.  When I stopped my thrusts into her, there wasn’t the slightest relaxation in her movement—she increased the speed and grip on my dick!

Damn, she was getting aroused!

I directed her face down, so we were kissing, and my suspicions were confirmed: she kissed me with heat, pressing her lips down, her tongue into my mouth, and our tongues met and played out their own sex act.  My Catholic schoolgirl, raped three times, was turning into a fuckbunny!  “Right, girl, right…yeah, go at it!” and she did, raising her hips, and arching her torso, so she was kissing me and humping me simultaneously.  Her arms were gripping my shoulders, and she was squeezing my head with the heat she was squeezing my prick. 

Karen was rocking back and forth with short jerks, and raising and lowering her cunt simultaneously.  She was on fire! 

And she was getting me insanely hot, too!  My cock felt like it was being stretched to abnormal lengths as she gripped it and pulled up with her pussy muscles.  I just grabbed her thighs, and held on, letting her skirt fall about my lap.  She leaned forward, putting me into a mystic fog of teenage girlhood: her baby-fine hair falling about my face, her lips brushing against mine, as I looked down her parted blouse, beholding the pretty bra adorning her perfect breasts, and her pleats spilling over me, and the warm, tight heat sliding up and down, up and down, up and down my cock!

And then I came.

It was fast, spontaneous, and in a wonderful, glorious instant whatever semen was left in my loins hit critical mass, and shot up the length of my prick, searing the inside with while heat and ecstasy and release, and shot into her!  “Oooooo, Karen, baby, this fuck, this fuck, I’m coming in you, oh, one last fuck, more, more…!!”  And I found there were, miraculously, a second and a third ejaculation.  The tip of my prick was burning and vibrating with fantastic delight, and as I went limp, I enjoyed the afterglow of warmth.

It was as abrupt as it was intense.  And then I was done.

Very done. 

Flat.

Limp.

Karen kept moving, squeezing my penis, but there wasn’t any hardness left—she had definitely drained me dry!  But that didn’t stop the bitch.  She kept her motions, but I unexpectedly fell out, and my very contented manhood flopped onto my thigh.  She pulled it, and tried to re-insert it into her pussy.  Needless to say, it won’t go!  Then she was squatting down on me, rubbing her cunt hairs against it.

But it was no use.  We were done. 

At least I was!

I pulled her hand away, and her plaid skirt fell down, curtaining our loins. She settled down, sitting on my thighs, while I lay back, looking up at my sexpot rape victim.  I ran my hands up her thighs, and parked them on her waist.  She looked down at me. 

“Great, Karen, baby, great, you’re quite a fuck, you’re going to be the best fuck on campus, you know that, honey?”  /

Karen looked down at me.  I was relaxing, playing with her skirt pleats, and there was disturbed look on her face, kind of confused, too.  “You were really getting into it, weren’t you, Karen?  I’d say you were enjoying our fucking, huh?”

“No…no, I didn’t.  I didn’t!”  she insisted.  “You raped me—raped me!”

“Yeah, I raped you.  But you were getting aroused, I know.  Weren’t you?”  I gripped her chin so she had to look me right in the eyes.  “You were getting aroused, I know!”

“Okay.  I was.  A bit.  But I still hated it.  You raped me.  I was a virgin, you raped me, and I hate you.  I hate you!”

“I think what’s got you pissed off is that I didn’t stay hard long enough for you to come.  You got hot and horny, but I climaxed, and you didn’t, that’s it, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer, but she yanked her face free, and looked off to the side, all the while, still sitting on my soft prick.  I pushed her off me, and she fell onto the blanket on her side, just lying there.  Her blouse was open, her bra was askew, and her blue plaid pleats were bunched around her hips, with a bit of tantalizing white slip showing.  “You just got fucked three times, and never got an orgasm.  I don’t blame you for being pissed.  You were cheated of your orgasm!”

“I was robbed of my virginity.”

“Yeah, that too,” I teased.  “Next time you’re with a boy on a date you can fuck him and you’ll get a climax then.  Maybe.   But remember, teenage boys tend to shoot off pretty fast.  Better stay with older men, maybe a priest, if you can find a straight one!”

She started pulling her self together, pushing her skirt down and buttoning her blouse.  “Priests are holy.”

“The only thing holy about priests is in their shorts.  And most of them have holes in the back of their shorts!”  I chuckled.   I was having a grand time.  I had fucked the girl in her pussy—twice—in her ass, and in her mouth, and I had fucked her mind, and now I was fucking over her religion.   She was so fucking devout.

I started putting on my clothes.  It was time to return my delicious prey to the real world.  I formulated just how I was going to finish things up.  I had to be decisive and ruthless—I was looking at, what, five life felonies?  And all on an impulse when I saw my dreamboat teenager out on the four-lane?

I gave Karen a kick with my heel, on her shoulder.  “Stay on the blanket, girl.  Just lie back.”  I pushed her skirt up, and had her lift her hips.  Then I pulled her slip down her legs.  It was such a pretty, feminine thing.  I wanted it as a souvenir. “Take off your blouse again.”  She did, and I slid it off her shoulders.  Then I unhooked her bra, and pulled it off.  “You can put your blouse back on.”  Her panties were still on the ground near the car.  I picked them up.  “I’m keeping these, so I can always have a piece of you, something to remember you by.  You can put the rest of your clothes on now.”  She quietly started buttoning up her blouse, tucking it in, and reached for her knee-high socks and shoes.

I took a few last pictures of her.  She was particularly sexy, braless, buttoning her blouse, while sitting on her hip, with her legs curled up to her rump, and her pleats spread about.  I pushed her skirt all the way up, and took a few last shots of her, with her well-fucked pussy naked, and her uniform skirt all the way to her waist.

Looking at her, as drained as I was, I couldn’t help but wish I had Viagra or something, which would allow me to fuck her again.  A few more times.  To just completely, thoroughly, absolutely screw and possess this perfect eighteen-year-old Catholic girl.

“I’m never going to forget you, Karen, and I know you won’t forget me.  But whenever you put your pretty undies on, just think, I might be home looking at my pictures of you, jerking off with your lingerie!”  I fed those last shots into the laptop, and brought up my collection.  It was quite extensive:  Karen as cute schoolgirl, Karen as teen sexpot, Karen as well-fucked slut, Karen as nude art model on the rocks.  I had her in a huge variety of poses, with and without various combinations of her school uniform and pretty lingerie.  I put a blank DVD into the tray, and started downloading her in a variety of images, putting maybe a hundred on them.  

“Come here, look at these, Karen!”  She got up and came to the car.  I had the laptop mounted on the car.  “See what I’ve got of you?  I’m making you a souvenir disc.  I’m sure your Mom will want to take a look at it, too.  Remember—this is only a small fraction of what I’ve taken.  I think I might have a few hundred hundred here—at least! You’re very, very beautiful—even if you aren’t ‘pure’ any more.  I want you to remember.  If I got to jail, these go on the Internet.  Understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Say, ‘Yes, Sir!’”

“Yes, Sir!”

I slipped the DVD into a sleeve, closed up the laptop, and put it in the trunk.  “Time to go home, honey!  You’ve had quite a learning experience, haven’t you!”  I pulled her into an embrace, holding and kissing her one last time.  She felt so good.  I wish I could keep her for weeks and months, fucking her as much as often as I wanted, but I had to be content with my once-in-a-lifetime rape of this lovely virgin, sweeter and more beautiful than any girl I had ever seen.

I opened the car door, and she slid in.  She seemed broken and defeated.  I moved over to the driver’s seat, and kissed her again, feeling her braless teen breasts through her blouse.  I put the car in gear, and we headed away from the vacant farmhouse, with the filthy mattress where I had despoiled Karen of her virginity.  And away from the brook, where I raped her and sodomized her and compromised her with hundreds of pornographic photo images.  And the meadow, where my teenage captive sucked me and fucked me and we fucked together and she almost had her first orgasm.

Epilogue

It was dark.  I drove the dirt road back to the county two-lane carefully.  I didn’t want a mishap to topple up my precarious legal situation. But I couldn’t resist just a little final enjoyment of my rape victim.   “Pull your skirt up, high, girl,” I instructed my victim.  She pulled it up, giving me my last view of her beautiful, smooth legs before I returned her to the world of civilization.

Karen looked straight ahead, stoically.  Her hands were to her side. Neither of us said anything. 

Glancing at her legs and the line of her natural breasts through her blouse, I took stock of my situation as I drove.  I’ve just raped and sodomized a minor.  Kidnapping, involuntary restraint, assault and battery, three counts of rape, two of  sodomy, creation of pornography, and besides everything would probably be classified as “aggravated.” 

That’s life in the slammer.  I can only hope that both the girl and her mother fall for my threats.  It’s my only choice.  Even if I snuff her, there’s probably surveillance video of me around the mall.  All I can do is hope that they fall for my gambit and keep things quiet.

“You’re going to be home before too long, Karen.  Your life is going to be different now.  You’re not a little girl anymore.  You’re a woman.  You weren’t planning on this happening, but you know, neither was I.  I’ve never done this before, and I’m sure I never will again either.”  I was lying.  If I had the chance to rape a girl as beautiful as Karen, I’d do.  I’d spend a year planning it, but I’d do it!

“Your life is going to be different now,” I repeated.  After brutally raping her, I was now playing the kind role of a counselor.  “You have to understand this.  And make your mother understand.  If I get in trouble with the law—any kind of trouble at all! —I will retaliate.  I’ll have nothing to lose!  The pictures I took will be posted and distributed all over the Internet.  And once word gets out around school, around the town and county, well, you know.  Everybody will know what you look like naked.  All around town, and all around the world.   That you were raped.  Everybody will be oh-so-sympathetic and understanding, but they’ll be searching the Internet for those pictures, which will spread like the Black Death.  And all the boys will be asking you out, because they’ll figure, ‘Hell, she’s already lost her cherry, she’s got nothing to lose!’

“Know what I mean?”

The girl was quiet, but I kept at her, and she eventually nodded her head.

She knew.  She had a lot to digest emotionally, but she knew.

“And you better make sure your mother knows, too.  Unless she wants her daughter targeted as the town fuck!”

“I’ll…I’ll talk, t-to her,” Karen said softly.

“Better, I’ll talk to her!” I corrected.  I took Karen’s cell phone out of the console, opened it, and put the battery back in.  A moment later, it was on line, and I handed it to Karen.  “Dial your mother’s number.  Tell her you’re all right, and then tell her that there’s somebody she has to talk to.”

What happened next was insane, to say the least, and probably not very smart on my part.  The call was answered immediately, and the two started talking simultaneously, Karen was crying, and I’m sure Mummsie was too, and it was impossible to get Karen to stop babbling about how she’d been raped but she was okay and coming home and she was raped and it was horrible and she was still with the man and on and on and on and she was raped and it was horrible but she’s still alive and so on and on.  Finally I just pulled over and grabbed the phone from her hand.

“Hey, woman!”  I hollered in.  “You better shut up for a minute if you want to see your precious little daughter alive, you hear me, YOU HEAR ME??        She was crying and screaming and babbling on, all this “Did-you-hurt-her-how-could-you-my-little-baby-please-don’t-kill-her….” and on and on and on.

Look, I’m not an experienced sexual predator.  For several scary minutes I was afraid I might have a swarm of police waiting for me at the mall.  But after a couple of minutes, I had the old biddy quieted down.  Incoherent, but quieted down.  I let on that I was a suicidal psychopath, and if I saw any cops at the mall, especially plain clothes ones, I’d pop the girl and myself both.

Never mind that I had a pipe, not a gun!  But she swore up and down that she had not contacted the cops.  My stomach in knots, I closed the distance to the mall, keeping my eye on the sobbing Karen, and her magnificent teenage legs displayed with her skirt up on her lap.  I pulled into a distant aisle.  I put the DVD in her purse. 

This was the moment of absolute truth.

“I’m letting you go now, Karen.  You know, I could have killed you.  And if I find the cops investigating me, just remember, filthy-minded boys and men all over your school, your town, and all around the world are going to be looking at your beautiful body.  And it will last forever!  Once these things get on the net, they last forever.  And if you ever get married, your husband will have to deal with it.  He’ll be looking at every man, wondering, ‘Has he seen those pictures of my darling Karen?’”

Karen sat there, frozen.  “And one last thing.”

I put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards me.  “I know where you live, where you go to school, and I’ll be following you as you grow up. I have friends who can take care of you if anything happens to me.” 

Well, that was a lie, but it couldn’t hurt!  “Besides, I might come back into your life sometime and rape you again!”  I pulled her close and kissed her again. My last kiss, my final touch, with the teen goddess I had despoiled.  She was still as I groped her sweet young—braless--tits through her white blouse.  It was like feeling up a statue.  A warm statue, but still a statue.  My left hand went down to her lap, and slid under her skirt.  I finger-fucked her pantyless cunt one last time.  “It was fantastic, fucking you, Karen!”  I pinched her labia, just a little.  “And you’re never going to forget me, what I look like, and what it felt like when I shoved my cock deep into your young body and took your virginity!”

I pulled back, and she tugged the hem of her skirt back to her knees.  She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were wet.  Odd and sick as this may sound, we had a relationship, even if it was being on the opposite sides of a criminal, tragic event.  “Time for you to go.  You remember what I’ve told you, and you had best make sure your mother does, too!  Now get going!”

She opened the door, and got out.  My last mental image of her was her sliding off the seat, her blue plaid schoolgirl skirt trailing behind her as she exited, and her mussed-up hair cascading down her white uniform blouse.  She started walking up towards the mall, her skirt swinging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in that innately cute schoolgirl-uniform rhythm.  After walking past a few cars, she broke out in a run, headed towards the stores.

I put the car in gear, and headed for the exit.  My stomach was full of butterflies, and I ramped onto the four-lane, and headed out of town, a safe and steady three miles an hour above the speed limit.

To be honest, I’ve been full of anxiety the last few days, and haven’t had much sleep.  As soon as I got home, I did set up that phantom web site.  All I have to do is access it, and execute a couple of quick, confidential commands, and a total of 862 images of beautiful Karen will be transferred to over 750 websites.  Quite a few of them are Russian, and they’ll post anything.  And they’re great pictures! 

Every hour of every day that passes without a police car coming up to me is reassuring.  I figure Karen and her family are settling down, getting adjusted, and coping with their tragedy.  Which means they’re more likely to deal with it themselves.  I’ve been busy, organizing and cataloguing the pictures, setting up different files and trays.  I’ve got Karen looking prim, posing artistically, behaving like a slut.  With her uniform properly on, with her tits or her pussy or both peeking out. 

And so on.

I set up more hotlinks around what is, for me, a very, very, worldwide web.  I’ve also upgraded my computer skills and have hacked in to her school intranet.  I’ve gotten the addresses of most of the faculty and students.  It was especially gratifying to get the email addresses for the football team (!!), the swim team, the wrestling team, and the coaches.  I sent an anonymous ghost message to Karen, informing her of this, with the warning, “You don’t want the school jocks to know about this!”  When I complete the list of her fellow cheerleaders, I think I’ll have her completely cowed.

I’m still pretty nervous about what might develop.  But this afternoon will mark the fifth day since my kidnap-rape of the lovely Catholic schoolgirl.  I drape her bra and panties—the matching striped satin set—over the corners of my monitor, and stroke my cock with her slip, looking at my pictures of Karen. Her hair is so soft and golden; her breasts so round, firm, and proud;  her waist is narrow, flowering out to smooth, gently curving hips; and her legs are slender and attractive, in any position and from any angle.  Karen was so exquisitely cute in her white blouse and blue, plaid pleated uniform skirt!

            I have a very favorite image.  She’s lying across the rock, and her blouse is unbuttoned, exposing her perfect, firm 34-B schoolgirl breasts.  Her skirt is pulled up to her lap, and the blue pleats fall away from her hips in a fan.  Her panties are pulled down mid-thigh, and the hem of her satin slip lies halfway between the bunches of her skirt and her beautiful, naked blonde pussy.  Her knee-high-clad legs dangle off the edge of the rock from the knees. Karen is looking at the camera, with the smallest of smiles, suggestive of vulnerability, availability, and—somehow—a touch of fear.  It’s as though she’s saying, “I’m here and you can have me but I loathe it and hate you but please don’t hurt me!”

I look at my once-virginal victim, and pleasure my prick, thinking,

I did it!  I fucking did it!  I grabbed this perfectly lovely teenage virgin, abducted her, and raped her!  I raped her three consecutive times, violating her mouth, her asshole, and pussy!  I enjoyed every soft inch of her pristine body, and shot my sperm into her virgin girlhood!

I raped my lovely Karen.

I defiled her schoolgirl body!

I violated her body, her mind, her heart, and her soul, and—

I got away with it!

I fucking did it! 

                                               

END OF PART III   (Of III)