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It started when I was eighteen. I was reading Sweet Valley High. Jessica, the bad twin, sneaks off to a bar. There a bad man puts his hand on her thigh.
I read it over and over again, until I could smell my dad's beer in the bar. I could feel the cracked vinyl seat against my thigh. I could see the man's big pores on his face, the stubble pushing through. I could see a neon bar sign reflected on the grease on his mustache. I could feel him squeeze the flesh of my little leg, hear his low groan of pleasure. That short moment exploded out into minute detail. My fantasies were formed from that frozen moment.
From then on I never imagined another boy, another girl, without fear. The boy in English that I had a crush on, I imagined him grabbing my face with a ferocious grip and forcing his kiss on me. The nice little girl my mom liked from my Sunday school class, I imagined her tying me up and hitting me all over with a stick while she said mean things to me. The 'cool' teacher, with slightly long hair, and a beard who taught honors English, I imagined him locking me in the closet while he had sex with one of the other girls.
When I got a little older I found the Story of O and Marquis de Sade and my fantasies become wilder.
Socially I was shy. Girls were dressing sexy in middle school and it only got more intense in high school. I was dressing sexier too, but it was all underneath my clothes. I worked part time in a chain pizza store, and with my money I bought lingerie at the mall. All my regular clothes were from the thrift stores and modest, but underneath I was trying to attract someone to me.
I turned down every date, every invitation to a school dance or a movie. I went on group outings, but dates were just so, well, consensual. As soon as I guy asked me out I felt repulsed. I on the one hand felt that I wasn't worth it, that he was making a mistake or teasing me, and on the other hand thought he was a coward to not just take me if he wanted me.
The summer of my sophomore year I started finding reasons to have to go from my sweet suburban home to downtown, usually to the library. Between my house and downtown was two miles of dilapidated split level rentals with unkept yards and broken down cars. There were groups of white guys with no shirts drinking beer in their yards, and black gangsters lurking outside of section-eight housing always on the look-out for something, pulling at their pants --ostensibly adjusting their guns.
That was a great thrill. I was scared to death. When one of them would whistle I would put my head down and scurry along a little faster. I found a cafe to stay at late after the library closed and then I would have to walk through the dark through these neighborhoods. I was too scared to keep to the same route. I was scared of being gang raped, shot or killed.
But at the same time I couldn't stop doing it. I had to walk through there. I had to be called at, occasionally followed and propositioned. I just loved being scared.
I tried to hang out with the punk rock kids, but they weren't scary at all, just huffing butane and glue, smoking weed and passing out. The hippies wouldn't even talk to me, same with the gangsters. The skinny white trash boys were just too stupid to tolerate for long.
And over all I wasn't hot because no one could see under my long skirts and high collared shirt, and turtle necks, and old lady jackets. No one saw the stockings or the garters that I wore every day, the teddies, the slips, the tight bras, the push-up bras, the demi-bras, the boustiers.
Then my parents got the computer.
I started talking to guys on the internet who would fantasize about raping me, and we would kind of co-write scenarios. I always told them I was twenty-four and they never had any reason to think I was lying.
And then there was cruel_control. I don't know why I liked him, why I listened to him. There were a couple girls who seemed to be his slaves, at least online, which I hated, but I liked not liking him. He was so mean. Most of the men and the women who were online just talked like normal people and they had a respectful repoire with each other. They hated cruel_control. They put him on ignore regularly or just talked about respect and dignity, and that slaves weren't there to be abused.
But I liked it. One day I tried to respond to something he said and in the room he said "shut up bitch."
And then he sent me a private message "uwant me to rape u?"
I stared at it a long time. I finally said "I don't know."
"FUCK U BITCH. dont waste my time"
And then when I tried to appeal to him he was gone. He wouldn't respond to me.
I thought about it. I wondered if I could fix things. He already had a couple girls though, why would he need me? But I thought in a rare moment of vanity, I'm younger and probably prettier. So I sent him another private message the next day. "Do you want to rape me?"
There was a long pause. "r u ugly"
"No."
"where u live"
"Baltimore," I lied.
"come to chiago i will rape u."
I didn't respond. I started thinking. I had an uncle in Chicago. I could go stay with my uncle, find some college preperation workshop or something, some excuse.
"Okay. I'll figure it out."
I did. I went to visit my uncle for a week. He was super busy working in some political office, and he had a lot of meetings to go to even into the evening, golf he had to play. Which was fine with me.
My uncle had a computer, but it was a lap top, so I could only use it in a limited capacity. I wrote an e-mail. "Where should I meet you? I'm in town, but I don't have a car or a lot of computer access."
He wrote me back and sent me his phone number. There were still pay phones then. I called him while my uncle was at work.
He asked me to meet him at a bar.
I told him I couldn't.
There was a silence while he sorted out why that might be.
He gave me directions to a park and told me to meet him there that night.
I told him okay.
He asked me what I was wearing.
Then he hung up.
I went home and told my uncle I was going to some concert I'd looked up in the free paper. He told me he'd give me a ride and pick me up there.
My uncle drove me to the venue, the Metro. He bought me a ticket and gave me another fifteen bucks, if I wanted to buy a band t-shirt or something.
I waited until he pulled into traffic and I ran to the train.
I walked into the dark park cautiously and found the place he'd described. It was creepy, the shadows of the trees and the bushes shifting in the street lights.
I tried to sit down and relax, but my heart raced and my palms sweat.
Suddenly I felt an arm wrap around my neck. I started to cry out, but a gloved hand covered my mouth. I half tried to walk, but he pulled me so quickly. I struggled to release his arm from my neck. It was too much. I couldn't breath. I wanted to ask him to stop. This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted something softer. I didn't know it would feel like this.
He pulled me into a rest room and shoved me to the ground.
"Please, I don't want to do this," I said finally looking at him. He wore a ski mask. He ripped his gloves off with his teeth and started unbelting and unbuttoning his fly, awkwardly with a gun in his hand.
I tried to get up and he immediately kicked me.
"You just shut the fuck up," he said low and pointed the gun at me. "Put your mouth on it slut."
"Please I just want to go home. I'm sorry. It was stupid, please let me go now," I looked up at him too surprised to cry.
"I told you to shut up and suck it," he said, coming toward me.
I threw myself in the direction of the door but he kicked me back and then just started kicking at my body. I curled up tightly into a ball.
"Chill out bitch," he said kicking me.
"Okay," I said clearly and loudly, hoping to stop the kicking as fast as possible.
"You gonna fucking be calm?" as he directed his boots into my body.
"Yes, yes, I'll be calm," I said, I heard my voice shake.
He stopped kicking me.
I peeked out from my arms and he pointed his gun at me.
"Give me your panty hose."
I took off each stocking carefully, trying not to show him my underwear, or be too sexy as I unhooked them from my garter. But I knew it couldn't be helped. I was sure it looked sexy. I was regretting the garters and the stockings. I was regretting everything bitterly.
I gingerly held them out. He snatched them from me.
"Turn around," he commanded.
I obeyed. He took my wrists and started tying them together with one of my stockings.
"Please, I'm so sorry I called you. I'm so sorry. I don't like this, please. I'm sorry," I appealed to him.
"I'm gonna stick my dick in every one of your holes you fucking cock tease," he growled against my ear. He pulled hard at the fabric. I felt the skin on my wrist chaffing and burning.
I finally started to cry. And I didn't know what else to say except "I'm sorry," over and over again I kept saying "I'm sorry."
"Shut the fuck up and don't fucking move or you'll get a knife in your back," he said, backing away a little bit. I tried to look back and see what he was doing, but he slammed me into the wall, I turned my head and felt my cheek bone hit hard against the concrete brick. "Look you fucking want to get raped I'm gonna fucking rape you, the harder you fight, the harder I fight. If you try to stop me and I'll fuck you up so you can't stop me," he advised while he started sawing through my t-shirt, working uncomfortably around tied wrists.
I just kept crying please, I'm sorry, hoping he would forgive me and let it all go, just let me go.
He ripped my shirt off and he flipped me around and shoved me against the wall. I felt the little bones of my back bang against the solid wall.
"Open up," he said in a cutesy but menacing voice.
I opened my mouth to cry "No," again, and he started shoving my shirt in. He just kept pushing until my mouth was open and full. Then I started choking on the shirt and my crying subsided because it was just too hard to breath. He fixed the shirt tight in my mouth by wrapping the other stocking like a rope around my face. The nylon dug into my cheeks.
He held my nose.
I opened my eyes wide silently begging him not to suffocate me. I didn't want to die in a bathroom in Chicago. His mouth distorted in a strange sneer, he looked angry like he hated me, and delighted at the same time. I started to feel strange and light, like relief was coming. And then he let go. I started hyperventilating through my nose. I could feel snot running out of my nose.
"Don't worry you can suck my dick later," he smiled and then licked my face. I jerked my head away. He pushed it against the wall and started licking my face and my ear. "You like that? Oh it's so sexy to make-out with your little boyfriends and kiss isn't it? Well fuck that."
He reached a hand into my skirt and took my sex in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck this hole first. You like that huh?"
He grinned watching me shake my head and try to cry no through the huge gag. "I knew you'd like it."
"Let's just come over here," he said and he grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me to the sink and lifted me up.
He pulled at my bra, pulling my breasts out so they hung over the fabric.
"Nice tits," he said and poked them with his gun.
He pulled at my skirt and pushed it up around my waist.
Then he got out the knife again a cut a slit in my panties.
The knife was followed by his finger exploring between my lips. He pushed at my hole.
"You're dry. Oh good I love a dry pussy, you'll scream more when I fuck you if it's dry."
He pulled his cock out of his pants and started pushing it against my hole.
I felt something happening, my body doing something.
He pushed, but it was impossible.
"What are you some fucked up frigid bitch?"
And then he took his gun and traced the barrel up and down my slit.
"If I pull the trigger this'll all get real wet with blood, and then I can fuck you," he said looking into my eyes.
I looked back afraid begging. I was frozen in fear. I couldn't have moved a muscle if I tried. It was as if I didn't move everything else would stop moving. If I stayed perfectly still nothing else could happen.
But the gun kept moving against me and suddenly it was sliding. My pussy felt warm and I wondered if I was bleeding? Did he cut me and I didn't notice?
"Oh you like that you fucked up bitch. You like getting fucked with a gun you sick bitch?" he stared down into my crotch.
He took the gun away from my pussy and rubbed the barrel cruelly under my nose. "Smell that? That's you wanting to get fucked."
He pushed his cock back between my lips and this time in went in.
"Oh shit that's fucking tight. Oh yeah, I like raping you, you tight little cunt," he said struggling to push it in.
I felt his penis bend as he tried to push in.
"Fuck," he exclaimed like he was agony. "You fucking bitch."
He reached back and brought his knuckles hard against my cheek. "Fuck you're so tight. I'm gonna fucking make you bleed you little bitch."
And then he ripped through my hymen and if felt like I was ripped open to make room for him.
Suddenly he exploded in a frenzy of movement.
"Fuck you you little bitch. Fuck you, piece of shit whore," he grunted and groaned as he humped me. He pulled my hair with one hand and pulled on my hips with the other. "You fucking bitch. I'll kill you with my dick you fucking bitch."
His dick chaffed against the inside of me, every thrust throbbed and burned. The blood lubricated it and made it more bearable than before, but it was agonizing. I cried through the gag, but he couldn't seem to hear me while he feverishly pumping into me.
He thrusting madly and groaned, his only words being "Fuck you, fuck you, bitch, fuck you."
And then he suddenly stopped.
He stayed in me and pulled at the stocking around the gag. He pulled at the t-shirt, until it was free. I was afraid to make a sound. I wanted to hold my breath until I saw him walk out the door.
He pulled the stocking down around my neck and twisted it in his fist, yanking it against my wind pipe.
When would it be over? It must be over soon I thought.
He pulled out and I sighed. He looked down at his dick, playing with it in his free hand. Then he looked up into my face and grinned saying "Open wide."
He put his hand up to my lips. His fingers were covered with blood and semen. I couldn't open up. He twisted the stocking in his hand tighter, choking me. I opened my mouth to protest, to breath and he put his slimy filthy hand in my mouth.
"Yeah, suck it clean," he encouraged.
I started licking his hand. I could taste my blood and my cunt, I could taste his salty stinking jisim, I could taste the dirt on his hand. He tasted almost of metal. It was completely putrid and acrid.
"I've met a virgin slut before. That's pretty funny, a virgin that wants to get raped," he seemed to be calming down, but he was still so intense.
"I like you with blood on your face. Maybe I'll beat the shit out of you," he said scooping up the goo between my legs.
He fed me a handful, "Yum yum, it's a slut dinner. Eat it up. You won't get any dessert if you don't finish your dinner," and he laughed thinking about dessert.
I tried to eat it faster, to get it over with, and then I would feel like I was going to puke and try to stop eating it. He would rub a little on my mouth while he choked me and then I would give up and try to eat it again, hoping he was almost done.
"You can eat your own pussy juice and your own blood at home, you must like my cum. That's why you called cause you wanted to eat cum," he said serving me as much as he could and rubbing it on my cheeks. He seemed to be torn between the pleasure of making me eat it and enjoying the sight of seeing it wiped on my face. "Don't worry you're a natural born slut, meeting old men in the park to get raped. I bet you'll be eating a lot of cum from now on."
He seemed to run out of enough liquid to continue enjoying his monologue.
"Okay now what? Do you want to suck my dick or get fucked in the ass?"
"Please I want to go home--"
He interrupted me with a slap in the face. And then he laughed in a low chuckle.
"Did I fucking ask you that?"
And very suddenly he yanked me by the arm and threw me to the floor from off the sink, with as much force as he could.
"I asked," I said as he cocked his gun. "If you wanted to suck my dick or if you wanted to get fucked in the ass."
"Please. I don't want you to fuck me any more. I want to go home," I started to cry throwing my arms and hands in front of my face, as if that would help.
Then he suddenly emitted this low, terrifiying, powerful scream "YOU MOTHER FUCKING BITCH DON'T FUCK WITH ME! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I started again with the begging and crying.
He climbed on top of me squeezing my face with his hand, still soiled and sticky.
"I'm gonna ask you one more time. I'm giving you a choice. I'm being fucking nice. I could be fucking nasty. I could fucking shatter a few bones and then fuck you or you could just answer my fucking question. "
I mumbled "I'll suck it."
"You'll what?" he shouted.
"I'll suck your --dick," I said softly but audibly.
He immediately climbed up on my face and put his flaccid penis next to my mouth.
"I knew you wanted to suck my dick. Lick it, com'on," he encouraged.
I opened my mouth and put my tongue to his dick. The smell seemed overwhelming. I couldn't smell the bathroom over his odor. It was so terrible, but I hoped that we were nearing the end of things.
"Lick it like ice cream. You like ice cream don't you little girl?"
I tried to lick more. He tasted like he smelled. The surface of his cock was still sticky with my blood.
"Go ahead, suck the end of it. But don't get your teeth on there or I'll get crazy and violent," he looked at me and smiled.
"You don't want me to get crazy and violent do you?" he said in a scary movie voice.
I opened my mouth and took a little of his cock in.
"Come on, take the whole thing in there. It's soft. You can take it," he said.
I took the rest of it in my mouth. "And now just real gentle like, start to suck," he told me.
I started sucking on his soft member carefully.
"Look at you, you look pretty sucking my cock. I'll bet you'll suck cock every day after this. After I let you go you'll be looking for another cock to suck, but I bet your a fucking cock tease, that's why you're a virgin huh? You wouldn't let anyone fuck you. You needed someone to rape you real good didn't you?
"Yeah, you're sucking that real nice," he reached down and started petting my pussy gently. The torn fabric of my panties teased my flesh. "Go ahead you can keep sucking it. I see you like it.
"I liked raping your tiny hole, fuck you almost hurt me. I bet you're sore down there."
He kept being gentle, kept tickling my pussy lips. I felt myself getting excited, which ignited a completely new fear.
"How long have you wanted to get raped? It's probably been a long time if you had to call someone, had to beg someone to rape you. But it's real nice isn't it?"
I shook my a head a little bit to say no.
"Don't lie to me you whore," he slipped a finger between my lips. "You think I can't tell. You're so wet you could fuck an army. I bet you'd like that. I'll just sell tickets right here for your horny fuck hole."
His dick started to expand in my mouth. I felt my slit getting wetter and wetter. He gently played with my clit. His fingers were being so gentle. I'd never felt anything like that before. It was awful. This warm, wonderful feeling grew under his touch.
I did like it. It was terrible. I thought he would kill me, but here I was letting him play with my pussy and sucking his cock. I wasn't even trying to fight him off. It was my worse nightmare. In my fantasies it wasn't like this.
"You didn't fight very hard did you? I didn't even have to hit you. I only hit you because I wanted to. I don't like to hit women. But It just gets me so hard to hit a slut you know? Sluts deserve to get smacked around. They like it when you hit 'em.
"Yeah your getting wetter. You like it when I talk about hitting you?" he cooed at me like my mother talking to me when I had a terrible fever as a child. His voice was gentle and sweet, his touch against my slit was so sweet.
"And you're just playing right along so nicely, you want it so bad. You handing me your little stockings and you wore your slutty little see through panties and the garter and everything for me. You waited for forty-five minutes on that bench. You had lots of time to change your mind. Yeah you wanted some sick fuck to come fuck the shit out of you."
His cock moved in and out of my mouth now. I massaged it gently with my lips for him and his fingers worked up and down my slit, carressing my clit and playing carefully with my opening.
"Feel that? Feel how wet your pussy is? I bet it's tingling like crazy. And you're sucking so nice. You're a natural born cock sucker," he started to sound groany again.
His dick filled my mouth now. "I'm glad we could have a nice little talk. Just a little check in during play time to make sure everything's still fun for both of us you know. Safe, sane and consensual. But I'm ready for play time again. It seems like you're ready aren't you?"
And the terror flooded back, but my pussy seemed like it was against me now. I tried to shake my head 'no' a little bit to answer him, but I could hear that edge back in his voice. He was going to turn into the psycho maniac rapist again.
He started pumping his cock into my mouth with a little more energy and pushed it further back, "Yeah, suck it girl."
I tried to suck, but he moved more quickly. "I'm gonna have so much fun with you," he said and started bucking into my face.
I moaned to protest when I could, but I found myself gagging on his cock with every thrust. His pelvis smashed against my face.
"Yeah swallow it down bitch. Swallow my fat cock," he growled as he plunged it into my throat.
I felt vomit rising up. I tried to swallow it back, but he just kept ramming into me and each time I puked a little more.
"Yeah choke on it bitch. I'm gonna fucking kill you with my cock. You fucking like it don't you, you nasty bitch," he said pushing it into my throat.
I started crying and snot flowed from my nose. I gagged over and over, with each thrust he made me retch again.
"Shit, shit," he said and quickly pulled out. "Gotta save that."
"Put your head in the toilet," he said.
I looked at him with a woeful expression.
"Put your fucking puke covered face in the goddamned toilet," he said.
I crawled to the toilet and looked into it.
"Stand up."
I stood.
"With your head in the toilet you stupid bitch," he said and he forced my head down so I was bent in front of the toilet. "Now hang on tight this it going to be fun."
He went over to the soap dispenser and supplied himself with several pumps.
He walked behind me and lifted my skirt.
And then I felt his wet finger against my ass hole.
"This is gonna be so tight it might just take my dick right off," and then he made this noise of excitement, like someone make do at a football game, a kind of "Whoo!".
He started pushing against the hole gently. And then he penetrated with his finger. He wiggled it around, trying to put the soap all over. It was less painful than when he entered my hole, but he was being nicer now.
When he abruptlypulled it out it hurt more than when he put it in, though. It was a new kind of pain I realized.
I cried out a little bit.
"Yeah, you're gonna scream little girl," he moaned happily. "If you thought getting your cunt rammed was fun, you're gonna love this."
And then I felt his dick against my hole.
"Relax bitch let me in," he said struggling. He pulled my ass cheeks apart. "If you don't relax I'm gonna cut a bigger hole until I do fit."
His threat to cut me reminded me of how cruel he was. These moments of his gentlness had somehow really tricked me. I'd really felt like I must want it, but suddenly I remember the gun, the knife, the kicks.
I tried to relax, wanting to avoid his punishments, and when I did he would slip in further, but it was so painful I'd clench up again.
It was the most excruciating pain I had felt in all my life. It just didn't fit. It stretched all my tissue inside and just seemed to be ripping me from the inside.
Once he pushed himself in he cried out again in jubilation.
"Fucking bleed little girl!" he cried and started pumping. At first it just pushed and pulled and didn't move.
I started to cry out, "Please stop, stop."
"Oh yeah that must fucking hurt," he drove in as hard as he could, rhythmically. I felt him draw back and then heave himself like a battering ram.
"Yeah, fuck, shit. That hurts me more than it does you. Shit that's tight." I cried uselessly "Please stop, please." "Does it hurt?" he asked. He kept trying to pump, but it couldn't budge. "Does that fucking hurt? Am I hurting your ass?"
"Yes! Yes! Please it hurts, please," I begged.
"Yeah you fucking slut," he said. I could feel how hard it was for him to pull out or push in to my little hole.
"Does it hurt when I do this?" and he thrusted as far and deep as he could, which wasn't far, but was excruciating pain.
"Yes it hurts. Please stop it hurts," I begged.
"I bet it fucking hurts. Your ass is bleeding. Shit I never made a girl bleed so much without cutting her," he said slowing again.
And I knew it was true, that I must be bleeding, because he started to move more easily. Every time he moved forward it felt like he was pushing the end of a hammer into my organs, and when he pulled back it felt like the skin of my ass hole must be ripping open.
"You like it? You like it bitch? You and your juicy little gash? You like getting fucked in the ass huh?"
"No," I said crying.
"Yeah you like it," he accelerated again.
His pounding made me cry. I cried like a fountain. I could only sob "Please," now and then.
"Yeah, fucking beg for it you whore. Yeah you fucking love it," he said. "Oh my god. You're the best fuck I've ever had. You love getting fucked so it hurts. You're a kinky ass slut, hmm." I didn't see it coming when he pushed my face into the water. He held me there a couple seconds before he let me back up. "You can clean the toilet while I fuck you. Lick that toilet."
He plunged my head down again and head it longer. I tried to push myself up, but he was too strong for me. He let me back up again and I gasped for breath. "Lick the toilet."
I started to lick the toilet seat.
"Yeah lick up that junkie shit. You are so nasty," he pumped more slowly.
"You stopped crying," he noted. "You must be enjoying it, now, but you wanted to get raped, so that means your not enjoying it right? I'll try and help."
He ripped his dick out of my ass, which was the most painful moment of the night, but didn't make me cry. I just tensed all over trying to fend off the agony.
He lubed me with more soap and stuck his cock in again. It felt a little less intense than before. He started pumping hard and then slow and deep.
"Oh you like it too much now," he observed.
But it wasn't that it wasn't terribly painful, but that I couldn't cry, and furthermore that I seemed to have run out of afraid. I became limp and almost bored.
He started pumping faster and faster, and said 'Fuck you,' as he had done the first time he came, but he pulled out. "Turn around," he said. "On your knees."
I did as I was told.
"You fucking bitch," he shouted as he came in my face. I turned my head away, but he grabbed me by the hair and jerked out the little bits of cum and rubbed it on my face.
"Suck it clean," he put his dick in my mouth and I sucked it clean, unfighting.
He reached into a bag and pulled out a camera.
"Say cheese," he said. "Don't worry I'll send you some in your e-mail so you can remember how pretty you looked this day too."
And then I wouldn't realize for a long time that the worst part, the part that would haunt me and tease me for the rest of my life was still to come.
"I can't leave you like this," he said when it seemed like he was finally going to go. "It would be ungentlemanly of me to cum twice and not make you cum."
He put his hand between my legs again. I tried to kick myself free, but he wrestled me down and tied one ankle to the long bar for helping one's self up from the toilet. "You didn't fight very hard. You're not fighting anymore. You afraid I won't take you out on another date if your not nice?"
He tickled my lips softly. He brought his finger to my mouth. I opened my mouth and he rubbed it on my tongue, before returning his wet finger to my clit. He slowly started to rub.
"This is so nice, to feel your pussy dripping like this, to watch you quiver. You could do this all night couldn't you? I'd take you home with me, but you're such a needy bitch. Feel that, feel how hungry that pussy is? I've been with some nasty sluts, but I don't remember anyone being this wet. You must really love me," he said making my legs quiver and my pussy twitch.
"I mean it's sexy though. I like you. I like girls that want to get raped in the park by strangers. And you let me fuck you in the ass, not every girl lets you fuck them in the ass. And your so horny. You're up in here licking everything and anything, my dick juices or the toilet seat, whatever.
"Shit you like it real dirty," he said working on my pussy with a practiced hand.
My body started to quiver all over. I could feel my hole itching for him, wanting him to put his fingers in me. My face flooded with shame and heat.
"I'm sure you could get a lot of guys to rape you if you wanted. Oh your shaking, are you getting off? Not yet, not yet. I'll slow down," he took his finger away from my clit and slid it effortlessly up and down my soaked gash.
"I wish I could get hard again, or I had a friend who would fuck you, but my friends all like nice girls, they think sluts are dirty and have diseases. I know you need more fucking, maybe if you look around the park you can find some special guy. Are you biting your lip? Yeah you want to get fucked some more?" he said slipping his finger just barely in my hole.
"No, please," I begged.
"You're so wet. Don't lie to me, you wanna get fucked just one more time don't you?" he went back to working my clit. I shuddered through my whole body.
"Oh yeah, I know you want more. Your a fuck monster, you're greedy little cunt doesn't know when to stop does it? You must drive your dad crazy. I bet he wants to fuck you."
My body shook everywhere. My back arched.
"Oh that's it huh, you want your daddy's dick?" he said rubbing my clit harder.
I started to moan.
"Oh yeah, moan like a whore. Enjoy yourself," he slipped two fingers into my pussy and let his thumb move over my clit. He started pumping gently. "Yeah you're gonna get off aren't you? Come on, get off thinking about your Daddy."
I struggled to stop my body, but my clit denied me, as long as his finger was there I was at the mercy of an orgasm. I gasped and relaxed.
"Was that it or is there more?" he said and played with my clit.
My hips jumped.
"I think you can cum again, don't you? I think you'd like it," he started at it again, rubbing my clit back and forth and pushing his fingers around in my pussy.
He began moving his fingers inside, twisting his hand. He added a third finger stretching me relentlessly, it would have brought me back to my exhaustion, but his finger on my clit made the anguish welcome.
"God you fucking like that don't you? Fuck you're no fun to rape at all. You love it. You like some old man molesting you. Look at you all tied up with some creep playing with your pussy and you're cumming like a porn star," he pumped and twisted and manipulated my clit.
"I'm messing you up so good that if you had sex with someone in the next week it would burn. So I hope you go out and get fucked some more. I did all this work to hurt you. I bet if you try and have normal sex now you'll cry just like you did earlier. Yeah I'm fucking your shit up. You like that? You like that?"
He moved faster as I tensed more, he pushed me with his fingers.
"Yeah fucking cum you slut, fucking cum you nasty bitch. Yeah you like it, you like it you sick slut," he rambled as I shuddered and cried heaves of ecstasy.
When my body relaxed he got up and washed his hands.
"Roll over," he told me.
He struggled with the stockings until he freed my wrists, but left my leg tied up. And then he walked out the door.
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