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Nina
And
The Pernicious Professor
By
“Prey4Me”
June, 2009
The following is a work of pure fiction. Any similarity to real persons is purely coincidental. The writer does not condone involuntary or violent sex.
This story is intended only for adults who can legally access pornography in their home jurisdictions. If the brute-force rape of a nineteen-year-old virgin is offensive to you, then do not procceed any further. It may be reproduced or reposted only in toto, and then, must include Epilogue I and Epilogue II. (“Prey4me.”)
(Part I)
He dropped the paper on her tablet arm-chair. “What?” Professor Mark Smith whispered to the cute mulatto coed. “Were you on the rag or something?”
Professor Mark Smith could be subtle, but he could also be overtly cruel. Nina’s trim, flat tummy was as tense and tight as the skin of a drum. Beneath her large breasts her heart raced. She picked up the Calculus midterm and looked at it.
“87.”
Eighty-seven.
Eighty-freaking-seven!
Every quiz and homework of hers had been highest honors: 100, 98, 100, 99, 112 (with extra credit). And now this!
87.
What went wrong? A quick look down at some of her solutions elicited silent groans. Why did I…? Oh—I should have known…. How did I forget--? Oh no—that’s a cosign, not a tangent!
And so on.
“Everybody has a down day, dear!” he chuckled as he passed back other exams.
Nina, you blew it! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her competitor, Phenh-Anh, that gorgeous genius Vietnamese slut beaming, tossing her long, glossy black hair back over her shoulders as she admired what was obviously a superb exam. Prof. Smith hovered around her seat, chatting. She’s so much his little pet, she fumed. Pretty cutsie skinny tiny-titted tease! Asian slut, like she’s born into the mathematics aristocracy with Mark! Mark was leaning back, looking at the paper on her desk. It had to be a perfect hundred. Or was he looking at her perfect, slender legs—smooth thighs she always showed off with a wardrobe of flirty minis? Phenh-Anh crossed one perfect leg over the other, and her mini slid higher up a smooth thigh. Nina worked as hard at keeping herself as slender as a Mayflower-society debutante, just as she did at getting top grades in college, but to them, she knew, she was just the affirmative-action colored girl.
Meanwhile, Phenh-Anh toyed with her skirt hem, smoothing it over her flawless thigh.
If any “colored girl: was going to succeed in the realm of higher math, it was Nina. She had studied and worked her cerebral ass off to get into a top suburban prep school, all expenses paid. And she damned well earned being Valedictorian too, she knew! The pride of her single-mom, she was determined (destined, maybe) to succeed, and then some! Nina ran her hands through her soft, relaxed, neck-length hair, twisting the end-curl around her index finger.
Eighty-seven! She had to do better than this. Nina—you will be top bitch in this class, yes, you will! This was only the midterm. Mark was tough to cajole or manipulate. He was strong, always in control, and used methods both subtle and overt to control. It could be light banter or cruel sarcasm, but you played his game, not yours.
The class was beginning to break. It was obvious that she had one of only a few honor grades on this grueling exam—most of the other students were quite subdued. She gathered her things, and, standing up, on the very bottom of the last page, the small entreaty:
“See me. M.”
Nina looked up and caught the professor’s eye. They sort of walked towards each other. He quickly explained that he knew the exam was a big disappointment, and, yes, he was very available to go over things. His earliest available office hours would be late, late Friday afternoon….
He put his hand on her elbow and—and—stroked it. Stroked it! Nina’s pulse quickened. How could he be so presumptuous to touch her like this? The effrontery outraged Nina. She flinched—moved back a bit—but his long, lean fingers remained gently wrapped around her upper arm, but his icy gray-blue eyes pierced Nina’s light browns. Was he being fatherly, as he assured her of her natural math abilities? Nina couldn’t tell. Later, she wondered if he noticed her firm 34C-sized breasts rising and falling as they pressed out against her form-fit check shirt.
Around females, Mark was quite the enigma.
Nina spent the next three days obsessing over the exam, and how she would discuss – appeal, cajole, even beg–her grade—and him. Mark was the epitome of the Anglo-Saxon academic: tall, a bit lean but definitely buff, talented & so very accomplished (author of four textbooks!), mature (but not old!) and so verrrrrrry aristocratic! He just reeked of old money, living in an old Tudor cottage with his platinum blonde trophy wife and three perfect toe-headed cherubs.
He exuded a classic, patriarchal masculinity, but was quite hot in a very subtle way.
Nobody is surprised when a young black man of promise takes up with a white, establishment-type chick. But Nina’s social and romantic life was trapped in a predicament: The pool of black men who were her equal was small, and most of those sought out white girls—typically skinny, rich, empty-headed but big-titted blondes. But damned few white men showed interest in a very bright, extra cute black girl, even though she was more fair-skinned and bourgeois than the typical colored girl. Oh, sure, there were the liberal weenies, the pony-tailed wimps with their immature goatees who wanted to prove—to whom? themselves? their parents? The New York Times?—that they were hip and liberal and inclusive and could date “African-American women.” But they wouldn’t commit to a relationship. They just wanted the sex that white girls wouldn’t grant them.
What Nina wanted was a real man of intelligence, bearing, position and self-confidence. If this meant a white man, then a white man it would be. A man who knew his way around the corridors of power and responsibility, who was confident with his authority, a male whose testosterone was as much between his ears as it was between his legs!
But Nina was, above all, a realist. Mark Smith, Ph.D., would be admired from afar. He was not a prospect to pursue, but he was quite the model of masculinity as he was a mentor. Probably lots of WASPy girls had already made tries for him, and there was no telling how many had bedded him, married man that he was.
Nina found herself excitedly anticipating her conference. The exam was important. But she had never really been alone with him, either.
The end of the week approached at a glacial pace.
The nineteen-year-old coed finally decided upon what to wear.. Her full C-cup breasts always filled out shirts nicely. Eschewing her usual cotton checks and plaids, she opted for an ice-blue blouse with a bit of a ruffle down the buttons. A silky one. Not too dressy, a kind of subdued satin. Just a bit sensuous, and very feminine. Who says math stars can’t be girlie? she thought.
Then she paired it with a miniskirt, a worsted box-pleated navy thing, which had some swing as she walked, and demurely spread out from her lap when she sat The pleats were stitched down at the hip, hugging her small hips and exaggerating her tiny tummy. It also gave her small, tight butt a bit of bounce. The skirt’s main attraction was the way it flipped and swayed around her legs. Phenh-Anh, you aren’t the only chick with nice legs around here! she chuckled. They weren’t the slender stems of the Asian beauty, but she knew they got looked at when she wasn’t wearing her trademark jeans!
Neutral pantyhose and a pair of medium heels finished the look. Nina walked across the campus to the Tech center. Amidst a population of girls in jeans and cargo pants, she attracted quite a few admiring looks. She felt kind of guilty, setting herself up to flirt her way to a better grade, but she had grad school to think of, and all’s fair in love, war, and GPA, right?
Professor Mark Smith didn’t look up from his monitor when she let herself into his walnut-paneled office. It was kind of awkward; he didn’t motion for her to sit down or anything. He intently worked on something, so she just stood there. Finally finished, he tapped “enter” and turned to her—and froze with a startled look on his face.
Nina simply stood there, hands to her side. Mark took her in carefully—or was he gawking? They were very cognizant that Nina, good old plaid-shirt-with-tight-jeans-Nina, had never dressed this way before, not before Professor Smith, anyway! Nina had a mature bearing, but the box-pleated navy miniskirt was schoolgirl sexy. Much, much later, after she had replayed the assault in her mind and endlessly analyzed it, did she realize that there was a bookcase light behind her, and the light blue blouse created a soft haze silhouetting her body, with a gauzy effect around her full, fluid sleeves.
Transfixed, Mark stood up. His eyes, went up and down pausing at her legs, then came to rest on her breasts—her magnificent 34C breasts, that proudly pushed out against the thin silken material of her blouse. Oh dear, have I gone too far? she wondered. Now what—how far do I want to push this, anyway?
“I-I..” Nina swallowed, “I, er, thought I had some of these theorems proven on the mid-term. You, um, seemed to think, uh, they were okay in class, and, uh…”
The professor looked down at her, his steel-blue eyes boring into her almond-shaped eyes. “Take this one,” he sort of gushed, pointing to a problem marked with red pencil. “Show me…”
Nina moved to the whiteboard, and worked the proof. She knew how to do it now. He gave her more, some on the test, some not; Nina had each one mastered. But Mark started standing closer to her, then right behind her. She could feel his presence, smell his cologne, sense his body heat. Writing on the board, he reached over her shoulder, bumping against her tight little bottom.
No way was it an accident.
Then he touched her. He put a gentle but distinct hold on her upper arm, moving his hand up and down, feeling the smooth contours of Nina’s arm, and the smoothness of her silken sleeve. More personal than what he had done in class.
It was a definite pass.
Nina stiffened a moment, pivoted, took a step back.
“Mark.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “No.” She looked up at him, square in the eye. “We have a healthy, honest relationship—not just, well, student teacher, but friends. I’m sorry, no.” You should have expected this, girl! she thought. Nina twisted a little, brushing his hand off her arm.
The next critical minutes moved in a frantic blur of shock, bewilderment, revulsion, and terror. Nina never quite figured out just what happened in which order, but she suddenly found herself pulled tightly against him. His left hand was deep in her hair at her nape, holding the back of her head powerfully, even viciously! And his right arm was wrapped tightly around her slender waist, imprisoning her left arm, pulling her body hard, hard, against his! He yanked her head backwards, and lowered his face to hers, forcing a hard, greedy kiss upon her parted lips.
Nina tried to pull back, to no avail. Likewise, turning her head was futile. His grip was just too strong. He caught her with her lips parted, and somehow she couldn’t close them, he pushed his mouth on hers so hard! Nina squirmed, but all she could do was feel the professor’s body against hers, his mouth hard upon hers, his gray-blue eyes boring into her!
The spell was broken as she felt his tongue move in between her lips, deeper, further in, and it touched hers! Contrary to her hot reputation, Nina was incredibly inexperienced. She had devoted herself to her studies so much, she had never had a steady boyfriend—actually, hardly any dating experience at all—just a little light kissing and cozy hugging was the extent of her sexual (in)-experience!
His tongue went deep her mouth, and his grip on her pageboy-cut hair tightened. She tried to push it out with hers, but the two tongues moved all about and around each other in a wet, slippery tango.
She hadn’t the least idea of what to do. Mark had long impressed her as a hot older guy, but only in the mental sanctuary of fantasy. He was old enough to be her father! Yet here he was, grabbing her, holding her, French kissing her! Nina twisted, bucking, and managed to get a bit of space between them, and pulled back. He relaxed his hold.
She stepped back, another step back, and was leaning against the sturdy oak bookcase. Again, the backlight illuminated her silk blouse, rendering it sheer. Her large breasts, optimally displayed by her nicest 34C fashion bra, heaved up and down.
“I wish you hadn’t done that, Mark. It spoils things.”
“I wanted to do that, and I don’t apologize for anything, Nina. You must know how I’ve been looking at you all year—your hair, your breasts, your exotic brown skin! I’ve wanted to grab you and feel you since the beginning of term. Damnit, you’re a hell of a lot of woman in such a petite body!
“And I’ll tell you outright, you felt so damned good, you know that? Do you know how enticing you are in that outfit? I just adore silk on a beautiful girl, and you’re a very beauuuuutiful girl—you’ve been turning me on all year, dressed in those skimpy shirts and tight jeans. And now…” he put both hands on her arms again, stroking them from her wrists to her shoulders, up and down, up and down, “now….you’re just too much…too much! I didn’t know you have great legs, you know that? And you’ve been hiding them in those jeans all year. That’s some skirt!”
The coed was petrified with shock. He brazenly reached down, lifting the hem of her pleated skirt, pulling it up. When he saw she was wearing a slip, he grabbed that too, pulling it up, up, until Nina twisted sideways, pushing him off, and screamed, “NO!”
The skirt dropped down, swaying about her thighs. Finally, free of his lecherous touch, she moved toward the door, but the professor sidestepped, and blocked her. She felt trapped. The coed turned away and hid her face in her hands.
Nina cried. She was so confused! She knew she had flirted, but she didn’t expect such a brazen response! Professor Mark Smith had been an icon of disciplined masculinity, a representative of everything she secretly admired in powerful, establishment, and, well, white men. She tried to collect her thoughts—nothing made sense. How was she going to balance her need for success in the course with the new-found knowledge that her teacher was such a lecher? As she hunched forward, confused, she began to cry. Her light brown hair fell down about her face, and her blouse tightened across her back, pressing tight against her back and outlining the back straps of her bra.
And that was some unfortunate, bad luck for the mulatto coed.
Mark Smith had a thing for minority girls And silk. For mini skirts. And for pretty lingerie.
Nina had unwittingly combined all the elements of the lusty professor’s fetishes!
She felt his hand on her shoulder, and then his other hand at her waist. She cringed at he touched and leaned forward, but there was nowhere to go. His hands moved about her shoulder, her back, her shoulder blade, her waist, all about the silken expanse of her back, but coming back from time to time to trace the outline of her bra.
“No, don’t…stop this, Mark, I’m… going…to g-go, now…”
Every time she moved towards the door he moved sideways, checking her. She sidestepped left, along the bookcase, but found herself trapped in a corner. Mark stayed with her, pawing her, running his hands over her arms, shoulders, back, and down to her ass, massaging her firm ass cheeks through her skirt. “No, Mark, stop—you can stop now, no more, please, please, Mark!” she whimpered. She felt very alone, here in his oak-paneled office, so late on a Friday afternoon. It was so quiet! Nina felt very, very afraid.
He barely answered, except for muttering, “Nice, yeah….oh, Nina, Nina, Nina ….baby…Mmmmm…yeah…Oh….so soft,…oh, you’re so hot!” Mostly she heard his hard breathing.
Nina turned her back to him, and kind of crouched, slouching away with her arms wrapped tight around her torso in a defensive fetal position. Mark forced his hands under her arms until they met at her waist. He held her, his front to her back, in a tight embrace. Nina first sensed a hardness in his crotch, pressing against her derriere.
The door seemed so far away! Nina craved escape, but something kept her there, paralyzed in dread and revulsion! Her passivity emboldened the predator professor.
With his arms around her small waist, he pulled her tight against him in a tight hug. The aggressive sexuality of his conduct could no longer be denied or explained away: his hands went right up to her breasts, cupping them, crudely fondling and squeezing them.
The ultimate fear finally hit her: Is there more to this than just a crude pass? Would he go all the way—rape, real rape?
Against her firm derriere, she could feel his cock—hard, right through his pants!
She tried to grab his wrists, to pull them off her tits and to extract herself. So this is the way a guy first touches my tits? She had always expected her first intimate experience to be more refined. She wouldn’t put up with this. Nina would fight. She had to fight!
He’s a monster! Underneath all his Caucasian sophistication he’s just a sex fiend! I’m NOT going to let him—HIM!—touch me or take me like this! She lurched away, but couldn’t budge. Nina twisted, lifted a heel, and jammed it down hard on his foot! “AAAGH!” he exclaimed. She felt herself pulled backwards by her hair. Searing pain shot across the top of her scalp. An instant later, she was twisted around, facing him, and leaning backwards against her teacher. She felt a pressure on her throat—it was his forearm—shoved up hard and crushing her larynx!
“Mmmrlph!” she garbled. In an instant, she lost her breath, her head went light, and everything was dizzy and light. Then the oxygen came flooding back, and she could see and think, at least a bit. She gasped for oxygen.
“I know how to kill you in mere seconds!” growled Mark. A rush of terror flooded Nina’s brain: This is for real. He’s desperate. I could die right here, right now. In her panic, it didn’t occur to her that an actual murder, here in his own office, was quite unlikely. He could never cover it up. But the young coed had a protected life, was as inexperienced with violence as she was with sex. It’s my life that’s in danger here, not just my virginity, I have to do whatever I have to do to stay alive, whatever he wants, whatever he tells me to, oh, no…..!
His steely blue eyes bore into her doe-like green ones. He put his thumb on her throat, pinpointing that spot where air and blood moved together feeding her lungs below and brain above. He pressed it in, pushing her head up. Nina’s eyes bulged and she struggled to maintain consciousness.
“You going to be a good girl, Nina? You going to learn from the professor, girl?”
Eyes agog, in a state of inchoate terror and pain, she nodded yes. A surreal sense of things drifted over the young virgin. Vaguely, distantly, she felt her breasts being pawed again. There was a strange sound and she somehow realized her blouse had been ripped open. With two rude hands, he was cupping her breasts through her satin bra, groping and squeezing them. Then he was pushing them up, down, together, apart. Then he was kissing her again, pushing his tongue right into her, hard and deep. She felt so violated. He was pushing her against the bookcase again, and she felt pressure against her crotch, and some minutes had passed before she realized that it was Mark’s hand, goosing her though her skirt, digging against her privates, exploring the contours of her body.
The most private part of her body, which had never, ever been touched by a man!
Time ceased to exist. His hands were all over, punctuating his lust with wet, vulgar kisses. Nina swayed, feeling hypnotized, murmuring her pleas of “No, no, Mark, not…this…stop…nooooo….”
But all to no avail.
He guided her sideways, to the other side of his office, and pushed her backwards.
Nina landed backwards on his couch, sprawled out. Her feet were on the floor, but her pleated skirt fanned outwards, along with her arms and her hair. She was regaining more consciousness as oxygen could again feed her brain. Then there was a tightening around her ribcage, as he gripped her white shiny bra between the cups. The constriction got tighter, tighter, as he pulled at the nylon garment, and finally four wire hooks yielded to his masculine power, bending open, and the 34-C bra separated at her back. His left hand pushed her chest down, immobilizing her. Mark pulled more, more, more, and then the silvery-white ribbon straps also broke.
The bra pulled free, and he tossed the ruined thing onto the floor.
Nina’s breasts were now naked, and so very vulnerable: large, magnificent, maidenly round globes which pushed firmly up off her ribcage: beautiful light brown orbs, about the size of grapefruits, peaked with dark purplish nipples. A flap of her torn blue blouse fell across a tit, and he flicked it away. Nina instinctively tried to move her hands to cover herself. Mark grabbed her right arm, and pinned it down, and slapped her left hand away.
The teenage coed gasped for air, and her breasts rose and fell up enticingly on her petite frame. She was utterly magnificent and enchanted the disturbed professor with this display of perfect African womanhood. He took fresh hold of her tits, cupping and squeezing them. Nina’s nipples felt extraordinary, poking up against his palms. She whimpered and tried to twist away, but Mark adjusted his position atop her, pinning her forearms under his knees—which hurt—allowing him to devote his complete attentions to her tits without any interference.
It was long, endlessly long moments while the perverted professor sat atop his prey, kneading her breasts, and forcing them every which way over her ribcage. “Nice, Nina, nice…nice,…so nice…Oh, Nina, you just don’t know how much I’ve wanted to get at your tits!” he murmured as he indulged his vile obsession.
Then he pinched a nipple.
“YOW! Oh…OUCH!”
“No more, Mark, please..oh—OW!” He gave them an extra hard squeeze. Nina rocked her head back and forth, and her baby-fine hair whipped over the couch cushions as she helplessly endured the torment. “Oh, Mark, Mark, stop, pleeease stop, it hurts, oh, oh, OHHHHHH, it hurts, oh, it hurts—OWWW!”
Mark pulled her all the way onto the couch, and lay down upon her, pinning her down. He resumed kissing her, then brushed her face all over with his lips. He couldn’t get enough of her! He moved down her body until his face was atop her bosom, and he imprisoned her arms inside a whole-body embrace. He sucked at one breast, then moved to the other, kissing and sucking her dark purply nipples. From one tit to the other, he sucked, bit, kissed, licked, sucked, and nuzzled Nina’s young breasts. They were the pride of her young womanhood, the object of considerable female envy and lots of raw male lust on campus. A lot of what he did with his mouth was just wet and crude, some was vicious and sadistic. He licked her nipples until they were pointed upright, then he would nip at them with his teeth. When he moved his face from one orb to the other, there was no telling whether he would be gentle or rough.
“You’re so beautiful, Nina, I love your skin, so smooth, such color, oh,…you’re sweet, sweet, brown sugar! You get me so hot, Nina, I adore you—your color, you’re sweet, sweet caramel body, my brown sugar bitch, oh yes!”
He rose up, still straddling her, but pinning her arms under his knees. That hurt, too! In a moment he had his shirt loosened, and pulled over his head, his t-shirt with it. Simultaneously he managed to kick his shoes off, pulling his belt and pants apart. Then he jumped off her, so briefly, dropping his trousers and shorts in a fast, deft movement. Before she could act, he was atop her slender frame, lying on top of her again—holding her, kissing her large round tits, groping her, fondling her. His hands and lips seemed to be everywhere!
She moaned, groaned, and sometimes screamed in agony when he couldn’t control himself and pinched or bit her. His arms were wrapped around her, and he exercised complete control over her. Her kicking and thrashing was worse than ineffective: as she tried to free her legs for leverage, her thighs pushed against his hard, thick cock, exciting him all the more. Nina was unaware that her skirt had gotten pushed up to her waist, and his prick, nestled in between her thighs, was rubbing against her slip, getting stroked by the titillating satin sheen!
Every once in a while, he pushed himself up, and Nina could see him in all his nakedness: tall, lean, very buff, evenly creamy-white all over his Caucasian body, with his penis hard—erect—creamy-pinky-white—purple-tipped—and so hard, so very, very hard!
This was the first time in her nineteen years she saw a naked man. It wasn’t a science book, or an art class.
It was a real penis.
It was creamy white with a purplish head.
It was erect.
It was rock-hard.
And it was inches from her soft almond eyes.
And she knew it was intended to deflower her!
Mark was silent now, all business, and his business was to fuck Nina. No, not to just fuck her—he had plenty of available coeds for that—Nina was to be taken, possessed, lustfully used, selfishly enjoyed,…raped.
This was life or death—for real—with the calculating evil genius atop her! She knew that only her young virgin body could determine the difference. Who knew that the folksy professor in the classroom was a homicidal sex fiend in his office? Nina dropped her head back to the couch cushions, and her light brown hair haloed about her head. She was stunned. There was no extricating herself. Like prey before a serpent, she was transfixed by the proud manhood swaying before her face. He leaned forward, lowering it, lowering it; it brushed against the soft skin of her bosom, and then it was just above her face..an inch…then Professor Mark Smith’s cock was grazing against her nose, her cheek, her lips.
The first, actual, in-the-flesh penis in Nina’s adolescent life was now pressing against her lips! The coed’s green eyes centered on her professor’s rape-rod: it was pretty long, long enough—she just wasn’t knowledgeable on how long a cock could penetrate a virgin teenager. But what awed her was its girth. It was thick—fat, and so thick! Oh, no—how will that thing ever get into me! He can’t—he just can’t! It will never fit! His penis was at least as thick as her fist!
“No, Mark, no, no, stop, please…please! It won’t work—you, you just can’t!” she exclaimed. “Mark, no, no, NOOOOO!”
Nina’s entreaty climaxed in a scream, an all-out full soprano all-female scream. Mark raised his right hand, and delivered a hard slap to left cheek.
“Uuuumph!”
Which aborted her scream. A touch of rose discoloration arose into her dark coffee-colored cheek. Later she found there was no swelling resulting from any of his blows or holds: the genteel professor was more expert at physical power than he appeared!
“Go ahead and scream, Nina,” he announced coldly. “Nobody’s around at this hour on Friday. Nobody! Just you and me, Nina, just you and me, and nobody’s going to hear you, or walk in and find us and save you or anything. Just you and me, girl, just you and me….!!”
Her head had jerked back. Mark took hold of her by her nape again, splaying his fingers through the soft locks before grabbing it. He yanked her head back, and her face up towards him with his powerful left arm. Nina emitted a loud moan, “OOHHHHHH!” Her torso arched, with her proud 34C breasts protruding up and pressing against his chiseled chest.
He resumed kissing her. Strong, wet, open-mouth kisses. Over and over, he “kissed” her. Greedy, selfish, sensuous kisses, nothing like what a sweetheart would give, but unrestrained oral self-indulgence, with his tongue penetrating oh-so-deeply into the coed’s tender mouth!
Cradled in the crook of his left arm, Nina just went limp. She was overwhelmed by fear, loathing, and an abject sense of powerlessness. Her lithe arms, still adorned in the flowing blue silk sleeves of her shredded blouse, fell to her sides. Meeting no resistance, his right hand was free to resume fondling and groping her, and it wandered all over her nineteen-year-old body, exploring and enjoying with unhindered freedom. Mark could savor Nina’s body at his complete leisure.
He pawed her shoulder, and her breasts endlessly, and was delighted with her flat tummy, trim waist, and then around to the small of her back. He traced the curve of her slim hips, and his fingers wandered below her waist, where they toyed with the texture of her skirt pleats, before returning upwards to her waist, her ribcage, her breasts, her arms.
He pressed her back onto the mattress. Nina lay there passively. Her arms stretched out to her sides, with her right arm falling off the edge of the couch. Her skirt had ridden up to the top of thighs. The pleats arrayed out in fan, with her glistening white half-slip peeking out.
With her skirt pushed up, Nina looked so vulnerable, and inviting! Now that he was off her, and not holding her, Nina sensed an opportunity to gain some control over the situation. Should she run for it? No—she knew she couldn’t possibly get up and away in time.
She rose up on her elbows.
“Mark. Mark!”
He sat on the edge of the couch, but didn’t respond, except that he reached for her hair, and fingered the soft curl at the end. His knuckles brushed against her shoulder top as he wrapped the curl around his index finger.
“Mark.” The coed took hold of his hand gently, squeezing it, almost endearingly. “Mark…we—you—can stop, now. Right now. Nothing’s happened, nothing, really that matters or can’t be fixed. Please, please…!” She looked into his steely gray-blue eyes intently. “Don’t do this, please, I’m begging you. Let—let me just go! I promise, I’ll never mention this to anybody, we’ll, we’ll…just…forget this happened.”
He continued playing with her hair.
“Mark, please! Do the right thing—stop, now!”
Nina pulled back a bit and was almost sitting up. She glanced downwards. He was still very, very excited.
“You have such beautiful hair, Nina. I didn’t know it would be this soft. Not like other black girls. Do you have ancestors from the Caribbean? It’s like you have Indian or Asian mixed in.” He was oddly conversational, considering she was lying on his couch with her clothes ripped to pieces. With a lock curled around his finger, he stroked her flawless light brown cheek, the hair trailing down to her smooth, gently rounded chin. “You’re different, you have a genteel loveliness I don’t find in other black girls, you’re almost white, like…”
“Mark—I am different from other girls. You just don’t know…..how, how…. how…different…please, stop—don’t do this—it’s more, more important than you can imagine….
“Don’t….!
“Please, please, please…Mark, I’m…begging you…don’t…don’t….” Nina’s voice trailed off, dropped to a soft whisper, “…don’t….(…rape…)…me.
The four later word—rape—was barely audible, yet it resonated with profound intensity in the still of his office.
Mark had lowered his face, and was muzzling her temple and pressing his nose and chin into her hair.
The innocent coed did nothing to stop him or evade. She was breathing more heavily now, her large bosom rising and falling. The sheen of blue silk moved and glistened in the office light.
She felt his breath on her ear.
“Mark,” she repeated, “I’m begging you, stop now. Don’t…rape… me, please!”
“You’re so, different…irresistible, Nina. I just have to have you—to take you, to fuck you. It’s not just that you’re black. I’ve had black girls before, all kinds of girls. But you—your mind, your body, your tits. I don’t know what it is…” His voice trailed off as he nuzzled her temple. He pulled back, and put a hand on her waist. He looked intensely into her almond-like eyes, and his hand moved to the center of her flat tummy, and then kept down her belly, over her skirt, to the top of her crotch.
His hand was flat, pressing down against the top of her vagina, through her panties.
The young girl put her hand on his, and tried to guide it away from her intimate area, but he wouldn’t budge, with the end result that both of them were pressing his hand against her vagina!
“Mark!” she gasped. She was tense again. A single tear trickled out of her right eye. “Please, please don’t—do—this…not…this—” Panic and dread flooded her female soul, and it was getting hard for her to form thoughts. “Don’t—do this…not—here—I’ve, I-I-I’ve…never…ever…I mean—been, been, been…t-t-touched here—like, this—here—before!”
“WHAT!!??”
He gasped. His loud interjection seemed to echo off the office walls.
“You mean…you…what!?”
Nina burst into a fresh torrent of tears, turning away, and fell back onto her side, facing away from him. She buried her face in her hands, weeping, and curled into a near fetal position. The pleats of her skirt draped over her thigh, and trailed across the couch in a sprawl of creased edges.
“I’ve never been touched,” she whimpered. “At all! Oh, don’t, don’t, please, please, please don’t rape me Professor Smith!”
“Never been—‘touched’? You mean—you, you’ve never--?”
Nina was bawling now, blurting out something she just never talked about. She had kept her virginity very private, even from her dorm mates. “I mean,” she whimpered, “I’ve never been been touched—at all—by a man before—not at all, not like this!”
“Built like a brick shit house, and never, done, well, anything?”
It was like she was almost ashamed of her inexperience.
“No. I mean, yes! I mean, well, you know, if you must, Mark, I’m still, still, a-a-, well, I’m a virgin—I’m still a virgin!”
Nina curled more tightly into a ball. She was reduced nearly to incoherence. She desperately hoped that this revelation would produce some kind of mercy or, at least, hesitation.
She got none whatsoever. A “gentleman” would, theoretically, back off in respect to feminine virtue. But Mark was a “gentleman” only in appearances. This new knowledge that the lovely Nina was a virgin—indeed, more than that—so very inexperienced and innocent provoked a greater, more insidious lust in him.
He had previously regarded as just a cute, colored cunt to be enjoyed; now she was an ingénue to be defiled!
“So what, girl, you ‘saving yourself for marriage’ or something?” he sneered.
“No. I mean, yes, “ she whimpered from her tight fetal position. “It’s just that, well, my mother, I mean, I promised her, oh…I can’t do this—I can’t, don’t make me do this, please, oh please!” Over coffee, Nina could perhaps explain at length how preserving her virginity was a combination of career ambition, the requirements of hard study, religious sensibility, personal morality, and a fear of duplicating her mother’s errors which involved a sacred promise—but nothing could be articulated now. All she could do was beg and hope.
The psychopathic professor, naked, horny, and looming above the cowering coed, could not have been more delighted. More than ever, and more urgently than before, he wanted this girl: to savor the pleasures of her pristine, teen body, to violate her femininity, to hurt her, despoil her, to rape her!
He located her left, inward arm and took hold of it, pulling it towards him, and rotating the curled up girl onto her back. Nina encircled her legs within her arms and made a defensive ball of herself, crying and blubbering pleas and entreaties all the while.
”Mark, no—stop, not this—please, please, please! I’m b-begging y-y-youuuuuu….” But he pried her arms loose, and shoved her legs downwards with a knee. Her navy skirt was a bunched-up mess at her waist, and her satin slip was almost as high, draped across her lower belly. A half-inch hem of delicate rosette lace looped her crotch in a strange, even graceful way. Through the seams of her pantyhose her white satin panties were visible, a match to the ruined bra lying on the floor.
Silky things really excited Mark.
He really liked silky lingerie on a girl
He really liked ripping silky things off a girl!
Mark climbed atop the sobbing girl. Her eyes went to her left, away from him, staring vacantly at the back cushions of the couch. Her brown hair had become disheveled: some of it was clumped around her neck, but several locks meandered away onto the couch. Shredded remnants of her silk blouse fell away from her lovely breasts, which continued to rise and fall with her short, panicky sobs. Mark pressed down on her knees with his, forcing her to straighten out her legs.
She again tried to twist away, but it was half-hearted, more symbolic than actual. He easily pulled her back. Nina looked up at him and saw a cold determination on his face. Her eyes gravitated down; his cock was still hard—hard, upright, and so very, very thick! Nina’s gaze was fixated on it with a gruesome fascination. She vaguely sensed his hand on her thigh, as his right hand moved up the inside of her left leg, stroking her nylon-clad leg, delighted with the smoothness of the hose, the curve of her leg, her body warmth as his hand approached her crotch. There was also the exquisite sense of invading her intimate regions.
Nina was somewhat numbed with shock and shame, but Mark was intensely alive, tingling with anticipation and raw lust. A sense of imminent conquest thrilled him. He had lusted for Nina for the whole school year, and how she was literally in his reach! As he groped her crotch, digging in, goosing her, pressing his fingers and palm up and hard. Nina winced, and tried to close her legs, to forced his invasive hand out. But he clawed deeper between her thighs, getting a grip on some of the material, pulling it together in his fist. Nina felt a tightening at her crotch, then felt something give way. The sound of “rippppppp!” mixed with the sound of heavy breathing and mattress creaking.
He had ripped open her pantyhose, right at the crotch!
He took a loose edge, at the top of a leg, and pulled hard at that. It ripped more. He found a few more edges and fragments, pulling and tearing, and in a moment all of the top panty part of her hose was shredded fragments. He threw himself down on her, and his massive penis nestled between them, squeezed sensuously between his hard belly, and her satin panty-crotch.
Professor Smith was a hard man, and his body mass pressed down upon Nina’s petite body. With deft, practiced movements, he gripped her head by her hair at the neck, forcing her face up towards him; he took his free arm and enclosed her arm at their side, and yet managed to get a hand on her tits. Nina felt the full force of dominant manhood upon her: his mouth covered hers with a wet, invasive “kiss;” a hand kneading and squeezing her large, firm breast; his cock sliding all over her silken panty crotch; and, 225 pounds of his body weight—all over her, pressing down, immobilizing her.
It was as if he was sucking in her young femininity through all his senses and pores! Mark meant to control and take her, possess her—to be the very first to enjoy Nina’s tender, nineteen-year-old body! He ground his loins against hers. Her silken panties stretched across the tight, lush little curls of Nina’s pubic hair inflaming his cock with lust.
His weight was painful and oppressive, intensified by the painful squeezing of her tit. Mark broke the kiss, allowing her breathe more freely. “I’m going to rape you now, Nina. You’re going to get my cock—all of it—hard and deep, right up your tight little cunt!” He chuckled.
“Please, please,…don’t.” Her last plea was more of a sigh of resignation. His hand moved back down to her panties. He pulled up the rest of her pleated skirt and half-slip, and he stroked the curve of her hip for a moment, admiring her classic adolescent curves. Then he arched his body, rising, and slid his fingers into the leg opening. Fingernails scratched Nina’s intimate skin. Long, lean fingers moved across her love-hair, a cunt-nest of thick, curly hairs, where they met the opposite leg opening. Mark’s fist gripped the panty crotch, giving it a good, yard yank. A bit of the garment’s seat got pulled into her ass crack, then ripped free. A remnant of ruined panties hung to her hips.
Nothing covered her pussy now.
With her blouse ripped, her skirt and slip hiked up, and her pantyhose and panties shredded, her intimate areas were now completely exposed to the professor’s evil lust.
His cock now pressed against her naked girlhood. He meant to rape her, and to rape her mind and her feelings as well. He pivoted her head so her right ear met his mouth. He ground his crotch against her, up and down, back and forth, and began to kiss and lick her ear.
“You’re going to get a world-class fucking, Nina. You think black guys are big, I’ll bet, huh? Well, I’ve got a world-class fat cock to fuck you with, and I promise you you’re going to get every inch!” He arched his body, lifting his hip. Taking his prick in his hand, he rubbed the tip against her pussy lips, up and down. He could feel the warmth of her pussy, and her pubic hairs felt wonderful, rough and coarse, but there was not a lot of moisture, at least not on the outer parts of her vagina.
“I’ll bet you’re one tight cunt, Nina,” he taunted as he moved the fat head of his penis up and down her pussy crack.” And I’m going to find out, right….. now!” He raised his hips, and aimed his bulbous head dead center at her cunt crack. Nina moaned, “Nooo…,” while her assailant simultaneously grunted some kind of “Yeah, babe…” He moved his dick up and down, back and forth, up and down, wiggling it against her outer labia. He pushed against the pink, and the head slipped sideways across the rich nest of her pubis, provoking a spasm of pleasure on the sensitive bottom side of his penis. “Huh—oh, nice!” It was actually difficult for him to get his dick into her. He re-centered his fuck-stick, and managed to squeeze the tip just inside Nina’s tight girlhood.
“Time for great white hunter to go deep into the African bush!”
He pushed his thick manhood in—one inch, almost two—he could feel her cherry! Nina’s intimate channel closed tight around his massive tool. The thin membrane of her girlhood resisted, and felt tight, but Mark pushed, pushed some more—he could feel it stretch a little, then yield, and then split open.
“Uhhh—OHHHH!” Nina gasped, gulped for air, then screamed, “OWWWWW!”
He could feel the edges of her hymen press against the side of his dick. He shoved mercilessly past Nina’s virgin barrier, driving thick meat deep into the tight confines of the pure girl’s tender cunt!
She threw her head back as this deeper penetration pierced her pristine, her femininity, right to her soul!
“OooohhhhHHHH!—ughhh—OWWWW!!”
Nina gasped, sucked in more air, and clenched her eyes in pain.
“Damn, you are one tight cunt!” grunted Mark as he forced another massive inch of his meat deeper into her.
“NOOOO!—oh, stop, stop, stop—it hurts, oh, Mark, no—“
Her entreaty was aborted as he thrust his hips downward, shoving yet another inch into her. He paused for a brief moment, pulling back just a bit, and drove his prick back into her.
“Oh, Mark-Mark-no, please, stop-stop—oh god, stop!—oh—OWWW!—it-hurts-it-hurts-oh-NOOOO!—I can’t take-can-t—take—take…it..oh, stop, please, Mark, don’t—rape—rape—don’t, don’t..don’t…fuck me—“
It intensified her anguish, feeling it necessary to use dirty sexy words to get through to Mark, but somehow she thought he might connect with dirty sex talk. But nothing pained her as much as the brutal hurt in her belly! Nina’s teen pussy was not only small, but was involuntarily squeezing against him. She was as tight as she was dry. The fit was uncomfortable, for both, but he pushed forward anyway with another powerful thrust!
“Oh, don’t..fuck..me…No, no more, Mark…yeeeoooooowwwWWW!!”
Mark said nothing now; he was all business, determined to thoroughly and deeply rape the girl. He rocked back a little, then pushed his way back into the helpless coed.
Three-quarters of his penis was now impaling little Nina. It was tough going, but he was determined to get all the way into her.
Another shove.
Nina arched her back. She cried and screamed, loud, full-pitch soprano screams that filled the oak-paneled office with testimony of her abject feminine shame and agony.
“Nooooo! Oh—no more, I-I-I-can’t—take it—you—your cock, no—“
He pulled back a bit. He was sliding in a little more easily now, what with the blood of her ruptured cherry, along with some natural lubrication.
Nina’s head rocked back and forth. Her hair was a disheveled mess on the couch, and her cheeks were smeared from her tears. Occasionally, she tried to push him away, to get the rapist off her, but he would knock her arms away like the minor nuisance they were. “Oh, nooo, I-can-t-take…it…your…penis—in, in me…” she blubbered through her tears. “Just take it out, take it out, it hurts, it-it-h-h-hurts, oh, Mark, your-cock, your cock, oh, your cock, it’s—it’s too, too, too, big—“
He answered her with yet another shove, as thick as he was, he was getting into her, stretching her mercilessly, making himself fit her tender anatomy.
“Professor, professor,” she called him in her illogical agony, “Professor Smith, you’re just too big—OW!—I can’t take your c-c-cock—(gulp)—I’ll do anything you want, any, any, anything—oh…oh, stop—stop—please, pull it out, it hurts, you’re hurting me!”
And he still wasn’t even all the way in! But he had plenty enough penetration, so he began to start fucking her with a regular rhythm. . She was dry, and very, very tight.
He pulled back, and squeezed the girth of his dick back into her.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Penetrating her called for real effort, and was actually somewhat uncomfortable. But the pernicious pleasure of defiling the bright young beauty was well worth it. Smith had deflowered enough virgins to know that this would improve soon.
Very soon. It just took some…more…fucking…work!
“Uh-oh! Ugh-oh! Uh-Ugh! Uhhh-OH!” Nina gasped, grunted and gulped for air with every penetration of the professor’s rape-pole into her tight, ever-so-tender-and-sore cunt. He lay hard upon her, imprisoning her under his powerful weight. She continued to thrash her head. Unable to arch her back, twist her body or even adjust her hips, he flailed her arms about the couch, sometimes gripping hunks of mattress cover or parts of nearby cushions in her female agony. Mark’s loins continued to rise and fall over her petite body, as he directed his turgid dick into her helpless body, over and over.
Over and over.
In, and out—in and out—in, in deeper—and out!
“Ugh-ugh-oh! Huh-UH! Uh-UH! Uh-uh-uh-UGH!” The rhythm of the mattress creaking and Nina’s gasps was surprisingly loud in the oak paneled office. She responded to each painful thrust with a gasp or a grunt, as though a small part of her female soul was being extruded from her loins. It felt like dozens of invisible fingers had taken grips on her skin, the inner walls of her pussy, and the muscles and tissues in her belly, only to stretch them wide apart!
As miserable as she was, Mark himself was getting a rather more comfortable fit inside her. Nina’s pussy gripped him more snugly than tightly, and she had become somewhat lubricated. He could now fuck her in earnest, sliding his hog in and out, in and out.
“It hurts, Mark, it still hurts! Please, please—stop—or finish—or—just, no, no—oh, OW!—no more, no…more…I can’t take it, any…any more…uh-uh-ohhh…YEOW!”
Mark paused for a moment. He arose to a partial push-up position, looming above her. He wanted to savor every detail of raping Nina. Most of his sensory attention was centered on the exquisite feelings of his prick nestled so wonderfully in Nina’s virgin body, but he was not oblivious to her beauty, the scent of her perfume, or the cruel satisfaction of hearing her grunts, groans, screams. And her tears! She continued to cry and sob, rewarding his sick ego with her pain, misery, and humiliation.
He rose a bit higher, straightening his arms and knees. He was arched above his lovely victim, from his palms to his toes, yet with his cock still firmly impaling the miserable nineteen-year-old. He looked down at the young Creole beauty, memorizing the vision of raped loveliness for his bank of sadistic memories.
Nina’s crying subsided, somewhat, with the respite. She looked up at her rapist with an expression of pained anticipation. Her pageboy hair had lots much of its curl from sweat and motion, falling from her head in chaos of tangled brown. She was beginning to catch her breath, and her magnificent 34C breasts rose and fell with heavy breathing. They’re so round, so firm, like..like…melons,….like nothing I’ve ever seen…” he mused. Mauling and squeezing them had given them a bit of pink blush, especially around her nipples, so her light brown skin had blotches of darker, reddish brown.
I’m not done with those tits, baby—not by a long shot! he resolved. Her ripped blouse and the large, silk sleeves—now creased and damp from sweat and tears—belied the lady-like image she had projected a mere hour before.
Mark wiggled his prick in her pussy, providing the engorged blood vessels of his massive penis with a touch of refreshing stimulation. With their bodies slightly separated, they both looked down their torsos at the intimate union he had forced upon—or into—her: his big white dick, smeared pink with her virgin blood, impaling her pristine, bushy-thick cunt!
He wriggled his rape-rod in her some more.
“Are you through?” asked the innocent coed in a defeated voice. “Did you come?”
He studied the raped young beauty beneath him. He was mystically fascinated with the girl: her ripped blouse, her navy blue skirt pushed up to her waist, with the box pleats flared off to her sides, and the white satin half-slip bunched up. Her pantyhose was a shredded mess, and the remains of her white satin panties, all askew, were kind of corded around her tummy and hips.
“Are you finished?” she asked again. “Please, Mark—it still hurts—would you please, please, pull out of me?”
Nina’s voice was quiet, and so defeated.
Nothing like the sight of a thoroughly raped virgin! he thought. And to think his dick was still only three-quarters deep into the girl!
“P-please?…Mark…?”
“Nina.”
“Yes—Mark—you’re done now, aren’t you? You’ll stop? Please?
“You don’t know anything about fucking a man, do you? You don’t know shit about sex, do you!”
“Mark—“
“You naïve little cockteaser—I haven’t even started!”
He threw himself down upon her, his body weight slapping against her torso, with both downward and upward force, and his hard, up-thrust cock shoved its way deeper into the petite girl with renewed force.
He penetrated her afresh, impaling her and filling the deepest confines of her little pussy with the final centimeters of his maleness.
“OoooooooohhhHHH! OW!”
Mark reached around her ribcage, and pulled himself even tighter onto her, driving his loins downward into her with unrestrained sadism.
“NOOOO! Ugh—OWWWW!”
Nina screamed with a hurt she could never have believed possible. She was just ripped apart, and felt so violated! It was as though her loins were being freshly ripped asunder as he jammed all of his thick cock all the way into her belly! “Hhhhhuuuuh! Hhhhhuuuuh!” she gasped in agony, “Ooooooh! Oooooohhh! Mark—no, noooo, stop, oh, it hurts, it fucking hurts!”
“Of course ‘it fucking hurts!’” he said in a mocking voice. “It always hurts the first time, Nina—and you are being raped!” He uttered a grunt and delivered a staccato of vicious jabs into her pussy. “I told you you’d be getting a fuck you’ll never forget—ooooooo, oh!” Mark caught his breath, “and damnit, you’re going to get it!”
He settled down to the business of serious fucking, sliding his forearms under Nina’s shoulders. His hands were alongside her head, and he half-cradled, half-pinned her head so, with his fingers laced in her hair, she was forced to look up at him. He pulled his thighs in tight against her ass, pushing her legs up, and angling her pussy right against his loins. With other girls, the professor might have been engaging in regular, recreational sex. But not with the young, inexperienced Nina! His vicious penetrations had harshly reamed her, and she was still hurting. The smearing of blood from her ripped maidenhead and a modicum of natural feminine lubrication was woefully insufficient for the wide male member that was now being jammed in and out of her. He delivered it with long, evenly paced thrusts: every re-entry was a fresh torment.
Her lower belly felt like it was being ripped apart. An intensely painful sense of stretching spread across her hips, and down her thighs.
“Uh-oh! Uh-uh-uhhhh—ow!” Every stab of his prick was a fresh hurt to the nineteen-year-old virgin.
“Yeah, Nina, baby.” His voice was raspy and he breathed hard as his male energies were devoted to his loins’ vicious action. “I wanted to fuck you the day you first walked into class, you know that?”
Neither one said anything for some time. He raped now her in earnest, with strong, steady shoves in and out The oak-paneled office was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, grunts and sighs, groans and gasps, along with the rustle of fabric and rhythmic mattress squeaks. Each penetration of his fist-thick prick emitted a sucking sound, with a corresponding “squish” as he withdrew.
The rape went on, and on. And on. Nina’s vagina commenced its natural job of responding to sexual intercourse, and provided lubrication. Friction got easier, but she was still stretched painfully. She lay passively on her back, and somehow distanced herself mentally. She stared at the sofa cushions, at a spot on the ceiling, on the wall, anything just so she was distracted from the middle-aged professor who was mercilessly driving his penis in and out of her petite teenage body.
She did notice, however, that he altered his speed and the depth of his penetration from time to time. She thought maybe it meant he was climaxing, but she really had no idea.
“Mark, Mark, Mark, please—stop, finish, I don’t care if you cum in me, I just want you to stop!”
The professor didn’t answer, except for his continued thrusts into her tormented cunt.
“Just…stop…you’re ripping me apart!”
“Actually, I’m raping you apart! Now why don’t you just shut up and take what you’ve got coming, you little bitch! Don’t you know how you’ve been cockteasing me all year?”
Nina threw her head back in despair. Mark continued pumping her, delivering his massive cock into her with incessant thrusts. It was more than she could bear, not that she had any alternatives but to endure—not only his relentless, violent lust, but also his occasionally sarcastic humor and vicious invective.
In…and out.
In…and out.
In…and out!
Most of his fucking was long, deep, with an almost leisurely penetration. The fat girth of his penis would pull out to her pussy lips; then it would kind of puff out as it squeezed its way back into her. When he had about half his length reinserted into the cramped confines of her pussy, it became constricted and squeezed its way all the way in—where it painfully pushed outwards, against her vaginal walls.
This somewhat relaxed pace offered no respite. He was way too much man for a teen virgin! He would occasionally intersperse them with short jabbing thrusts, keeping most of his hard penis firmly implanted in her.
In-out
In-and-out!
In-out, In-out, In-out, In-out
In-and-out!
In-out, In-out.
In-and-out!
In-and-out!
In….and….OUT!!!
Time was non-existent as he raped and raped her. Mark would lay down upon her, and the feel of her large, firm tits against his chest helped keep his pernicious passions well stoked. Then he would slide his arms under her back in a suffocating embrace, with his ass rising and falling and his sex piston delivered more punishment to her pussy. Other times he would straighten his arms and rise above her, so he could feast his eyes upon her plundered beauty. Every detail of the rape was to be enjoyed, and treasured in his memory bank of evil acts.
Professor Smith kept complete control over the girl, and the progress of the rape. Nina had no idea how long he had been fucking her. Was it fifteen minutes? Twenty? Over a half-hour?
It seemed like hours. There was no respite to the merciless stretching. And it got worse.
Nina never noticed just when and how it happened, but she found that he had risen up on his knees, and hooked his arms around her thighs, forcing her legs up, vertically. Her tight little ass was lifted up off the mattress, resting against Mark’s thighs.
And her legs were pointing straight up!
He held her legs hard and tight.. There was a marked increase in speed. He was fucking her harder, faster, deeper—most of his cock came out, only to be slammed back in! Nina sensed something was happening, some kind of resolution.
What the young ingénue didn’t quite understand was that Mark was building up to his climax.
Long, hard jabs, deep into her tortured girlhood! Over, and over, and over! Nina was laid back on the mattress, her arms reaching out to her sides, and she grabbed the cushion covers in her fists in a futile effort to dissipate her suffering.
“Ohhhhh…! Uhhhhh…Ooooo! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh-- Ow!”
She had long ago despaired of her begging and pleading producing any mercy or relief. All Nina could do was whimper and groan as Mark prepared for his final assault into her young body. “Oooooh—Ugh!” she sobbed.
Mark accelerated to his maximum speed, slamming into her like a jackhammer. He could feel the heat building in his prick, heat and pressure desperately seeking release, as though the tip of his raper was glowing red-hot. A sudden rush of fluid blasted up the length of his cock, collecting and capturing the heat, and shooting into the girl, filling her tiny confines with hot sperm!
Nina sensed a gush of warmth deep in her belly.
Inexperienced as she was, the virgin knew that he was coming in her. He pulled back, and rammed into her again, as hard and deep as ever, and remained shoved into her and drenched her womb with more semen. His balls banged against her crotch. Then another shot of man-juice emptied into her.
A different dread filled her: the prospect of pregnancy now tormented her. Mark resumed his pounding away at her, fucking her again and again with no respite as he released several successive shots of semen. More bursts of cum erupted from the tip of his over-sized dick, another, and then another. His cum provided more lubrication, but there was still no relief from his massive girth.
He slowed down. It felt so intensely good, those last diminishing gushes of ejaculation as he flushed his lust into poor Nina. Mark continued to fuck her—he was still good and hard—but he was feeling wonderfully, gloriously finished.
He pushed himself into her, as long and hard and deep as he could. At last, at long last, he was done. His sadistic lust was finished, now diminished to a sense of small seepage into her.
Satiated at last, he lay upon her, full-weight, and relaxed. Nina could not evade the smell of his sweat and the heaving of his pectorals as he recuperated. His head was next to her temple. He combed her soft, but wet hair with the fingers of his left hand, and pressed his cheek against hers. Her face was so soft, and she smelled exotically of perfume, sweat, and sex.
Nina was so beautiful, and she felt so good, as he enjoyed her loveliness and those last little drippings of cum seeping into her violated cunt.
Mark felt great, but Nina was so very, very hurt! Stunned in pain, she lay underneath her rapist, head to her side, and gazed vacantly into the now darkened office. His face remained buried in her hair. The delicate fragrance of her shampoo mingled with their animal scents. Her hair was quite bedraggled, but it was still soft, and it had always appealed to him, so soft, relaxed and delicately brown.
All year long, Mark had to settle for little “accidental” touches upon it, and how he had his face in it—with his cock stuffed deep in the lovely coed! Never had his fucking—be it seduction, manipulation, coercion, or, for that matter, rape—of a girl been so perfectly satisfying!
The middle-aged professor straightened his sturdy arms, and raised his body off her. A drop of sweat fell onto her temple, and she wiped it away, still avoiding his steel-gray-blue eyes. “You look so beautiful, Nina, so beautiful! You don’t know how much I wanted you, the first day you walked into Calculus. Every class, and lots of nights, I got turned on thinking about possessing your beautiful brown body.
“And now I have!”
He paused, collecting his breath.
“Damn, you were a fantastic lay! You were soooo tight—you really surprised me, being a real virgin, the real thing, too—“
Nina started crying again. His uttering that word, “virgin,” rekindled the burning pain in her soul. A flood of thoughts and feelings inundated her mind—or all of them dreadful! She would never be a virgin again, never the chaste brainy princess of higher mathematics. Nor could she ever contemplate approaching her marriage bed pristine. And her mother! She had promised her mother she’d stay “pure” until marriage! Oh, sure, it wasn’t “her fault”—or was it, with her dressing up so, flirting, to sweeten her exam grade? And, how could she tell her mother her promise had been broken, even if it was against her will?
She felt a pulling at her pussy. It hurt—but the pain was also flowing out of her belly. He was withdrawing. Like a band-aid being yanked off of skin, there was pain, more pain—but also relief.
It was an excruciating moment, but his final withdrawal from her body was now complete: a cruel mercy. He knelt on his knees, upright before his vanquished prey, right between her spread thighs. Their genitals were wet, drenched with sweat and semen, along with scattered traces of blood from her torn cherry. A more experienced girl would have been astonished that he was still erect, still hard and pointing out. A drop of cum oozed out of his nozzle, beaded, and dripped off, creating a long gossamer strand, stretching down, down, down until it touched her thigh. Mark scraped it off her coffee-colored skin with his fingertip, and collected it, sort of winding it, around his index finger until it was coiled around his fingertip. He took hold of her hair and lifted her head up.
“Stick out your tongue, Nina,” he ordered.
The ingénue was utterly grossed out. She was still in pain, but now she knew that he had more indignities in mind for her. She clenched her face—pursing her lips—and shook her head “No.”
“No?” asked Mark. “No?!? I hardly think so! Open your pretty little mouth, Nina!”
She pursed her lips tight, and managed to shake her head no, just a little, but enough to get her point across.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, you whore!” He let go of her hair, and encircled her throat with his left hand. His thumb located that pressure point, and he pressed in. Dread shot through her soul, a terror that far exceeded her revulsion for the man-goo mounted precariously on his finger. “Your tongue, girl!”
His thumb pushed in again. A little flash of dark purple shot across her retina as her brain was momentarily starved of oxygen. In unconscious panic, she complied. Nina’s tongue, wet and pink, shot out. “Keep it out,” he ordered, and he smeared the remaining drops of cum across her tongue-tip.
Her senses restored, it disgusted Nina. “You’re nothing a receptacle for my cum, Nina,” he added. “Just my pretty little cum bucket!” Then he pressed his nozzle against her lips, and smeared them with his man goo. He finished by wiping the sides of his cock against her cheeks. “You’re black, you’re beautiful, and you’re bright as hell, but right now, right here, you’re assignment is to service me!”
He yanked her hair up, and wrapped his sticky dick in her pageboy locks, round and around. It felt good, her relaxed, silky hair, all around his dick! Then, with his fist wrapped around her hair, which was in turn wrapped around his coed-fucker, he pulled and jerked off, caressing and drying his slimy, turgid dick with her strands. Nina could feel his balls bouncing against her cheek. He was keeping himself hard, even though he had just had an explosive climax in her sore pussy.
After a bit more of this pleasure, he pulled away, and got off her. Nina breathed a big sigh or relief. He must be done with me, she thought. He’s finished. I can go now!
But that was not to be.
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