Her name was Sally or Silvy or something. Anyhow – she is this sweet little freshman who has the hots for my Bud Matt.  I texted him before the party and totally convinced him to Double Team her tonight at the party. He wasn’t down at first, but you’d be surprised what a few beers will do to a dude.

Anyhow, Matty invited her to the party and of course she showed up with chick posse in hand. Matty played it cool , totally secluded her from her friends, and I was quick to keep her drinks coming  - his too for that matter. About 1 am when the house was full to capacity Matty invited her back to his room for a little R&R.  I was waiting just outside the room until he gave the signal. I was already so fucking hard imagining what he was doing to her just on the other side of the door.

 Finally he gave the word and in I slipped as soundlessly as I could, he had her totally nude on the bed and was eating her sweet pussy. She was wild about it he tagged me in and before she knew any different it was my lips lapping at her sweet nectar. She tasted so sweet too, her honey was flowing fast as I nibbled on her clit. Then she must have realized something was different because I felt her legs clamp around my ears, I didn’t stop I just kept munching on her pussy and slipped two fingers inside her. I heard Matty talking to her softly, and soon she relaxed again. I looked up and saw him slipping his dick in her mouth. Bitch was all about it! I moved up to her lovely tits, they were probably large A cups maybe B’s at best but she had some great fucking nipples, I locked my lips around one and went to town, still finger blasting her soaking wet pussy.  I guess I got a bit too aggressive with the teeth play because at one point she tried to say something but Matty just grabbed the back of her head and pointed her right back to working on his dick. It wasn’t long before I heard Matty blow his load in her mouth. This pussy was to be all mine tonight! Before the momentum was lost, I spread her legs and pushed myself deep in her soaking wet pussy – one deep full thrust and I was balls deep in this tight cunny.  She had a mouth full of cum and such a surprised look on her face, I couldn’t help but laugh as I looked down at her.. mats spunk leaking out the sides of her mouth. I pounded away at that tight pussy, dipping my head to take one of her thick long nipples right into my mouth and between my teeth. She was totally into it screaming her fucking head off, I felt myself ready to explode but held back. I had one more thing for this bitch tonight. I knew I wasn’t going to last too much longer, so I pulled my sopping wet cock out of her pussy. Put my forearm across her shoulders and neck and like a fucking BOSS slipped my shaft right up into her asshole. She let out a scream but I covered it up with my other hand, putting my full weight on the forearm pinning her to the bed. I was in her tight and obviously virgin ass and I just fucked away. Matty was saying something behind me but I was in the heat of it. A few more thrusts and I filled her ass with so much cum I felt it squish up and out over my dick. I looked down and the chick had passed out! I panicked for a second hoping I hadn’t hurt her, but a quick check of her breathing – she was fine – probably just passed out finally from all the fucking beer and that seconal I slipped into her last one. (What – a dude can’t stack the deck?)

So anyhow I pulled out and cleaned my dick up. Matty was just sitting on the other bed kinda dazed. I pulled my jeans on and asked him if he was okay. He muttered something. Dude had another rager already.  I laughed and told him to have fun, and left the room.

Downstairs I ran into one of the chicks the Silvy/Sally chick had brought with her, she asked if I had seen her friend and I said yea – she’s up with Matty, I acted annoyed, like I figured she was. I offered her a beer. About 35 mins later, two more beers for the friend and of course my party favor slipped in I had the girlfriend up in Matty’s room on the other bed. Matty had decided It wasn’t too morally wrong to take a second round at the freshman I left him with because he was finishing inside her ass as we came in. She was still out cold.

It took a few more minutes and some sweet talk to get the friend undressed, she was concerned for her friend at first seemingly asleep, but I guess my party favor finally kicked in, She was a bit heavier than Silvy/Sally but no where near a fatty. Just rounder, bigger heavy tits, nice round ass. I had her riding my lap as I sucked on those beautiful tits of hers. 10 mins in and I could tell she was giving into the seconal so I flipped up positions and took her pussy doggy style over the desk dividing the two beds. When she grew silent and limp I could no longer control myself and buried my dick deep in her plump pussy and shot my load. Hope she was on the pill! I laid her over on the empty bed, Matty had already beat it out of the room, he obviously didn’t want a piece of this one as well. His loss. I got dressed and just for good fun I took a few pictures of these hotties passed out and cum filled. It was nearly 3 am and the party was still raging, oh well I had to get to my job in the morning, so on my way out I pulled my buddy Phil aside, let him know there were to fresh fucked freshmen in Matty’s room, who will probably be out until the morning. Gave him a pat on the shoulder and was on  my way back to my dorm room.  Frats were fun places to visit – not a great place to get any rest.

Her name was Sally or Silvy or something. Anyhow – she is this sweet little freshman who has the hots for my Bud Matt.  I texted him before the party and totally convinced him to Double Team her tonight at the party. He wasn’t down at first, but you’d be surprised what a few beers will do to a dude.

Anyhow, Matty invited her to the party and of course she showed up with chick posse in hand. Matty played it cool , totally secluded her from her friends, and I was quick to keep her drinks coming  - his too for that matter. About 1 am when the house was full to capacity Matty invited her back to his room for a little R&R.  I was waiting just outside the room until he gave the signal. I was already so fucking hard imagining what he was doing to her just on the other side of the door.

 Finally he gave the word and in I slipped as soundlessly as I could, he had her totally nude on the bed and was eating her sweet pussy. She was wild about it he tagged me in and before she knew any different it was my lips lapping at her sweet nectar. She tasted so sweet too, her honey was flowing fast as I nibbled on her clit. Then she must have realized something was different because I felt her legs clamp around my ears, I didn’t stop I just kept munching on her pussy and slipped two fingers inside her. I heard Matty talking to her softly, and soon she relaxed again. I looked up and saw him slipping his dick in her mouth. Bitch was all about it! I moved up to her lovely tits, they were probably large A cups maybe B’s at best but she had some great fucking nipples, I locked my lips around one and went to town, still finger blasting her soaking wet pussy.  I guess I got a bit too aggressive with the teeth play because at one point she tried to say something but Matty just grabbed the back of her head and pointed her right back to working on his dick. It wasn’t long before I heard Matty blow his load in her mouth. This pussy was to be all mine tonight! Before the momentum was lost, I spread her legs and pushed myself deep in her soaking wet pussy – one deep full thrust and I was balls deep in this tight cunny.  She had a mouth full of cum and such a surprised look on her face, I couldn’t help but laugh as I looked down at her.. mats spunk leaking out the sides of her mouth. I pounded away at that tight pussy, dipping my head to take one of her thick long nipples right into my mouth and between my teeth. She was totally into it screaming her fucking head off, I felt myself ready to explode but held back. I had one more thing for this bitch tonight. I knew I wasn’t going to last too much longer, so I pulled my sopping wet cock out of her pussy. Put my forearm across her shoulders and neck and like a fucking BOSS slipped my shaft right up into her asshole. She let out a scream but I covered it up with my other hand, putting my full weight on the forearm pinning her to the bed. I was in her tight and obviously virgin ass and I just fucked away. Matty was saying something behind me but I was in the heat of it. A few more thrusts and I filled her ass with so much cum I felt it squish up and out over my dick. I looked down and the chick had passed out! I panicked for a second hoping I hadn’t hurt her, but a quick check of her breathing – she was fine – probably just passed out finally from all the fucking beer and that seconal I slipped into her last one. (What – a dude can’t stack the deck?)

So anyhow I pulled out and cleaned my dick up. Matty was just sitting on the other bed kinda dazed. I pulled my jeans on and asked him if he was okay. He muttered something. Dude had another rager already.  I laughed and told him to have fun, and left the room.

Downstairs I ran into one of the chicks the Silvy/Sally chick had brought with her, she asked if I had seen her friend and I said yea – she’s up with Matty, I acted annoyed, like I figured she was. I offered her a beer. About 35 mins later, two more beers for the friend and of course my party favor slipped in I had the girlfriend up in Matty’s room on the other bed. Matty had decided It wasn’t too morally wrong to take a second round at the freshman I left him with because he was finishing inside her ass as we came in. She was still out cold.

It took a few more minutes and some sweet talk to get the friend undressed, she was concerned for her friend at first seemingly asleep, but I guess my party favor finally kicked in, She was a bit heavier than Silvy/Sally but no where near a fatty. Just rounder, bigger heavy tits, nice round ass. I had her riding my lap as I sucked on those beautiful tits of hers. 10 mins in and I could tell she was giving into the seconal so I flipped up positions and took her pussy doggy style over the desk dividing the two beds. When she grew silent and limp I could no longer control myself and buried my dick deep in her plump pussy and shot my load. Hope she was on the pill! I laid her over on the empty bed, Matty had already beat it out of the room, he obviously didn’t want a piece of this one as well. His loss. I got dressed and just for good fun I took a few pictures of these hotties passed out and cum filled. It was nearly 3 am and the party was still raging, oh well I had to get to my job in the morning, so on my way out I pulled my buddy Phil aside, let him know there were to fresh fucked freshmen in Matty’s room, who will probably be out until the morning. Gave him a pat on the shoulder and was on  my way back to my dorm room.  Frats were fun places to visit – not a great place to get any rest.

I was on line talking to a few different people who became online friends of mine when we were talking about our wives and who's wife we would love to fuck if we had the chance,,.
From there it seemed like we would get braver and braver.. I would share different thoughts and a few picks with a few friends so It got to the point of where I didn't remember who I shared what with... I would take pictures of my wife when she wasn't looking with the stealth app on my phone.. It would look like it was off when it was snapping picks of her in the shower or getting dressed, even when she was laying there naked on the bed after a shower... One time I even got brave and she was laying with a pillow over her eyes because she had a headache.. I started spreading her legs and fingered her with my phone taking great video.. Before she took the pillow off her eyes I had put the phone away but not before I got some great shots of her laying there with my fingers buried deep inside her.. Her juices coated my fingers like glue..

Sure enough my online buddies and I would share thoughts and what we would do if our wives would let us.. One friend of mine said he gave his wife a sleeping pill and she was out cold..He took shots of his cock buried deep inside her and even the picks of his cum that he shot onto his wife's face when he was done.. What I wouldn't do to fuck his wife..

He tried again a few nights later but he said she woke up when he tried to stick it in her ass..lol
There was another buddy I shared picks with, he and I would meet for coffee and he would bring his wife's panties over and I would grab a pair of my wife's freshly soiled pussy soaked panties for him.. It was funny looking at the both of us sniffing each others wife's panties.. Wishing our wives would do a threesome..

My wife has a hot little body and I would love to share it but she is way to prudish and said if I ever brought it up again she would stop having sex forever.. Bad enough I get it once a month now..

Every guy I talked to in that manner that I sent pictures to all told me the same thing. What they wouldn't do to fuck my wife.. A couple of them had seen her in person and I would catch them staring at her the whole time.. So when the faitful night happen I had no idea who it was that raped my wife..

About two weeks ago I went to work like I normally do on the afternoon shift. After work I usually go to the river to unwind as my wife is usually sleeping by the time I get home.. It is a nice place to unwind and relax.
When I called my wife at lunch she said she had a headache like she always says and would be in bed before I got home so I figured as much and went to the river like I usually do...

About 1:30am in the morning I went home and I seen the light on in the bedroom. I thought oh great she is going to yell at me for not coming home right away.. But when I got up there I found her blindfolded and tied to the bed. She had a vibrator in her pussy and a pair of panties in her mouth. There was a usb stick on the bed and it had a note that said. This was MY fault. It didn't click in at first but I put it in my pocket and untied her. She was bawling her eyes out and hugging me telling me she was sorry there was nothing she could do. They made her. I said They? And she said yes she thinks there were three of them. I said lets call the police.
She said "No we cant I don't want to call them. I didn't see who it was and I don't want to get humiliated in court. I just want to go take a shower and I want you to stay with me.

I told her ok and I never left her side the rest of the night till she fell asleep..

As soon as she was sleeping I went downstairs to the other computer and stuck in the usb stick.. The first picture was a picture of her tied to the bed with the blindfold on.. And the rest of the picks got dirtier from there. There were some picks of her using her own vibrator and another with a cock in her mouth with her had on the vibrator in her pussy .There were picks of her sucking two cocks at once ,.,.One fucking her with another in her mouth there were some picks of her on all fours getting fucked from behind and one in her mouth..
My cock was rock hard when I got near the end and there was video clips. In one video she brought herself to orgasm with her vibrator. Another she was riding one cock and sucking another one as she cum again. For a minute I started to think she was enjoying herself. There were picks of her sucking cock swallowing cum cream pies with the cum dripping out of her pussy and video to.
She hates sucking my cock but seemed to be having a good time over a bad one..

While I was sitting at my computer I got an email from an unknown address. It was titled Great fuck so I opened it..

Inside the email was a letter that said.

"We all had a great time fucking your wife tonight.. Remember you brought this on yourself with all the pictures you sent.
Your wife is one great cock sucker and her cunt was tight as hell and soaking wet..
I think she had a good time herself and it was her idea to tie her up again at the end to make it look like she was forced..
Once we got there she fought for a few minutes feisty little woman anyway we made her swallow a pill one of us brought over and man after that she was wild..
She was reaching for cocks she must have cum 20 times. We all look forward to doing it again."

Signed The Gang.

I was dumbfounded. I went upstairs and she was still sleeping.. I rolled her onto her back and damned if she wasn't still soaking wet between her legs.. I started to mount her and she woke up and told me to stop she was sore and hurt and didn't want sex.

I went back downstairs and started to look at the video and the picks again.. I was stroking my cock and I came all over the place.
The next morning my wife didn't even want to look at me. She got the kids ready for school then told me to leave her alone she was tired and wanted to go back to bed..
After a few minutes I went upstairs as I could hear a faint noise. Im sure it was her vibrator as when I opened the door she must have been startled and made a lot of motion under the covers.. I thought she hates using the vibrator alone.. I was starting to wonder what was going on.

To be continued.

This is a fictional piece of literature. All characters are made up. The author holds no responsibility for your stupidly. Comments are welcome. This story contains nonconsintual sex between two teens if you are under the legal age to read this or it offends you close it now.

Cameras they are amazing inventions and can capture all sorts of acts. Tom was the head yearbook photographer at S. U. Reds High school. He was 5'8 and was slim. Despite his decent looks most girls dismissed him as a nerd. The worst was the schools dance team, the red beauties. They pretty much treated anybody who wasn't in there click like shit. With Tom though it was more personal. He accidentally took a picture of them at a school pep rally with the flash on and it caused them to be blinded for a few seconds and they fell when trying to make a pyramid. Since they everychance they got they ridiculed him.

One day Tom was out at the nature park, it was late in the afternoon and he didnt expect to see anybody. After about an hour of walking around the woods he needed to pee so he went off trail a few feet and found a good spot. He was almost done when all of the sudden he herd sombody let out what seemed like a moan and then somebody almost yell hush.

Tom zipped up and knelt down. He wasnt in camo but his cloths where dark enough that without the sun being up he was pretty invisible. After going a couple more feet he found a small clearing which was probly about 50 feet off the main path . He almost let out a gasp at what he saw.

There was the dance teams captain and here 5 assistants and a small freshmen dancer. All 7 of the girls where naked and Milly the freshmen dancer was on the ground with her hands tied behind her. Jannet the Captain was standing right infront of her and forcing Millys head into her croch and wispering in a mean tone “Lick my pussy you little twirp or im shoving a 12 inch dildo in yours.”

Tom felt his dick become rock hard but instead of doing what comes naturally he reached for his camera. He took dozens of photos. Because he was the schools head photographer he had a nice camera and even in low light he new the pictures were crystal clear. Jannet was 17 and was a major bitch but dispite that she was one of the hotest girls in school. She had full C cups and a tight waste. Her blond hair fell to the small of her back and her pussy was shaved clean. It took about 10 minits or so and then Jannet cam into the girls face and juices flowed from her pussy. Then Jannet moved and said “Your turn Amber.” Then a dark haired girl steped in front of Milly. Jannet slaped Milly's ass hard and told her to get at it and she obayed.

Tom didnt hesitate to keep taking pics. By the end of the event he had over 100 pictures showing all the girls taking a turn on Milly. After they all got off they bent her over a tree and took a stick and pattled the crap out her then cut her lose and told her she better be on time to pratice in the morning.

Tom went home locked the door to his room and went to work. He scanned the photos and comprised a few emails. In the morning he new that a few girls would have a suprise in there inbox and soon he would be getting his revenge.

End of chapter one.

Do you think I should keep going?? sorry about spelling. Thanks for reading.

Amanda crawled her cute naked ass onto my lap. I kissed the back of her neck and said "which part should we watch, Amanda? You or Christy?" 

"I want to watch you doing me," she replied. "I already saw you do Christy!" she smiled as the tape found it's beginning. 

Christy had gotten some great shots of me fucking Amanda, and especially of her sucking me off! Amanda seemed equally pleased, and as she watched, she wiggled excitedly in my lap, her towel falling off. Her wiggling, watching the tape we'd made, the entire scenario, had made me hard as a rock yet again- I whispered to her "Want to fuck again?"

She turned and smiled at me, and as she lifted up slightly, I rubbed the head of my cock on the opening of her pussy. She lowered herself onto me, and as I steered her hips, started to slide up and down on my shaft- it felt even better screwing her now than the first time, and the first time was great!! I noticed as she watched the tape of me and her playing on the TV, she rode me even harder, and when the tape reached the point of me cumming all over her ass, she purred and took as much of my shaft into her pussy as she could fit!! I felt her quiver, and immediately resume the rhythm she had started as the tape of me having my way with Christy.

Seeing that the tape was really turning her on, and I had some space at the front of my desk, I stood up, still inside her and bent her over the desk and continued to fuck Amanda while she purred, mesmerized by watching me use Christy. 

"Mmmmmm... I love to fuck-- ahhhh!! God, It feels so good to fuck!!" 

"You're such a hot little slut!" I goaded her, and as I said that, she wiggled her ass in such a way that rubbed my cock even MORE in the right direction! 

"YES!! I'm a slut!! And I love watching you make Christy suck your cock and making her let you fuck her!! MMMMMMMM!! Yes!! fuck me some more!!" I obliged, grabbing her hips tighter, and driving her forward every time I slid my cock into her. Still focused on the video playing in front of her, she moaned, "MMMMM- That feels so good!! MMMMM!! God yes!! Rape her!! Make her fuck!!"

God! I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I leaned over for a moment, still fucking Amanda, kissed her back and groaned, "I'm gonna cum now- where do you want it, my kinky little slut? Should I cum in your pussy or in your mouth?" 

She moved forward, pulling my cock out of her pussy as she said "MMMMMM--- In my mouth, please, Daddy!! Please let me suck you and cum in my mouth!!" As she finished saying that, she already had my cock in her mouth, deepthroating me! I had no choice at that point... my cock started to throb and I pumped another hot load in her mouth, and this time, not so much as one drop got even on her chin! She swallowed it all, then licked my cock to make sure she'd gotten every drop! We sat down- and didn't say anything for a moment.

Then, she turned to me and asked, innocently, "Did you mind I called you Daddy while you were fucking me?"

"No, sweetie- not at all!" I reassured her. "In fact, I like it! It makes me want to fuck you more! But- when you said you liked watching me rape Christy... " I looked at her to finish the thought."Yes... I liked watching you make her have sex with you... It made me want to have sex with you again, honestly..." 

"Hmmmm- good to know..." I winked at her. "Have you ever tried having sex with a girl before?" "No- just you. And the other guy who I let put his cock in my mouth." She replied. "But I might want to try it... " 

"You know- " I said. "Christy will be coming inside to go to bed soon... I started to picture the scene with an almost evil clarity. "I think that I know what we'll be doing tomorrow..." 

     Hanna, studying the map, said, "Lisa, If we take the next exit, it's a secondary highway, should cut about 30 miles off our distance."

     I slowed, and took the exit ramp, and on the secondary highway, the lack of traffic was a plus. We were making good time, until we came over a hill and saw a large road barrier blocking the highway. There was a man standing in front of it, and he was holding a rifle. Fear shot through me, I wondered if I could swerve around the barrier, but no chance. Any attempt would probably flip our car into the ditch. I had no choice but to guide the car to a stop.

     He sauntered over casually, and tapped lightly on the window. I quickly rolled it down, we were in enough trouble as it was, I didn't need to piss off a man with a gun.

     "Afternoon ladies, who are you, and what are you doing here?"

     I replied, "I'm Lisa, and this is my sister Hanna. Our map made it look like this road was still useable."

     "Yeah, it's useable alright, but it's been made into a toll road, and I'm here to collect the toll."

     He looked in, I saw his eyes sizing me up, taking in the view of my breasts, braless and just covered by a T shirt with a gap in the front, giving him a good look at the cleavage between my 36C chest. His eyes wandered lower, getting a look at my shorts, and my tanned legs. His eyes flicked over, and he took in my sister, his eyes taking a long look at my sister's 34C chest, and then traveling down to her skirt. Hanna was shaking, scared, and I did my best to put up a brave front, for both our sakes.

     "And what would the toll be?" I inquired, doing my best to keep my voice steady, hoping he didn't want to take all my money, or worse yet, our car.

     "Well, how about that sweet little sister of yours? If she comes on out here, and gives me the very best blowjob she can, the toll will be paid in full."

     I gaped at him, fuck, I hadn't expected this. Hanna was shaking, terrified, pressed back tightly against the passenger side door.

     "Oh yeah, she's all ready for it! Yeah baby, get them sweet pink lips of yours all slicked up, and come on over here and let my slide my stiff cock between those tight, slick lips of yours, right into your sweet little mouth. Do you like to swallow the cum baby? I've got a big, juicy load, all set to fill your sweet mouth baby!"

     I said, "You can't do that, she's only 15, she's still a virgin!"

     He replied, "What, she's never sucked a boy's cock? And who said anything about whether she's still's a virgin. I just want her to suck my cock, I'm not gonna bust her open!"

     "No, no way, you're not going to take my sister!"

     He growled, "Yeah, and why not?"

     "My sister isn't going to suck your cock, because I'm going to do it!"

     He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Then come on out and join me sweetheart!"

     Standing in front of him, he smiled as he took in my body, the thought of a 19 year old sucking his cock was more than an adequate substitute. I had kept myself in fit shape by being a bit of a gym rat, and at 5'8" and 135 pounds, with a long mane of strawberry blonde hair, he liked what he saw.

     "Oh, yeah, you'll do fine baby."

     I said, "Just one condition, when I'm sucking you off, I want to be out of sight of the car, I don't want Hanna having to watch me."

     At his nod, I leaned into the car, and told Hanna, "Stay here baby, I'll be back."

    He had a blanket under one arm, he led me off the road, and into the forest. The trees were thick, then a minute later, a woodland meadow opened up, and he stopped me. He put down a blanket and gave me a questioning look.

     "Ok baby, now get your cute ass naked, I want to enjoy the view of you naked while you suck me off."

     Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, I figured if he has the best possible view, it might make him shoot faster. I quickly pulled my T shirt over my head, tossed it aside, then my shorts and my panties very quickly joined it. I kicked off my sandals, and now it was his turn to gape at me, completely nude. I could see his cock tenting up. He quickly stripped, and I took his cock in hand, feeling the pulse of his erection making his cock throb slightly. I took to my knees, his 7 inches rock hard, and eager.

     Feeling relief that he smelled clean, and was not some dirty, smelly tramp, I pulled back on the foreskin, his head popped up, shiny and pink, and I turned his cock head into a lollipop, my tongue flicking and licking at his cock head. He let out a growl of pleasure as I started to lick at his shaft, using my tongue to paint designs on it.

     "Yeah, nice baby, real nice."

     My outrage was quickly fading. What the hell, I had basically been forced to service him, and I was starting to enjoy it? This is crazy!

     I slicked up my lips, and I quickly swallowed his cock, listening to his drawn out moan of pleasure I took him in, right to the balls, his cock head just lightly touching the back of my throat.

     That did it, I forgot all about the forced aspect, swallowing his cock, and feeling it fill my mouth was all I needed to lose myself to the building pleasure. My cunt was starting to gush, I could feel the juices of my lust dripping from me. I started to work on that throbbing cock, giving him the very best blowjob I could. He growled as my head went back and forth, my lips clamped tightly around his shaft, eager to milk his load right out of him.

     "Suck baby, suck" he whispered to me.

     I felt a hand gently tracing along under my chin, then moving up, his other hand joined, and he took my head very gently in his hands, and started a slow, thrusting motion, gently fucking my mouth. My mouth was bathing his cock in a tight wet heaven of sucking, I could see his shaft, shiny wet with my spit, appear and then disappear as he fucked my eager mouth. I could feel my cunt gush even more juices, running down my thighs, fuck, having a guy fucking my mouth turns me on like crazy, and I was burning now, needing his load, wanting my horny mouth filled. His cock jerked, becoming steel hard. I molded my mouth tightly around him, eager for the wet spray of sperm.

     "Yeah, oh yeah, oh fuck, gonna cum baby, gonna fill your sweet mouth, yeah, yeah, FUCK!"

     I quickly pulled my mouth up halfway as his cock exploded. The first two thick gushes hit the roof of my mouth, his cock continued to spray, spewing thick ropes of his sperm all over my tongue. I sucked, swallowed, sucked, swallowed, making sure I got every drop. My cunt was on fire, an aching, sodden mass of lust driven heat.

     "Now, now, lick my cunt, make me cum, fuck, I feel like I'm gonna explode!" I growled at him.

     In a few moments, I was flat on my back, his face hovering just above my soaked cunt. He growled with approval as he saw my smooth shaven pussy, as bald and smooth as a billiard ball. I always like to keep pussy hair free, to encourage lovers to get their mouth down there, and lick me. His head moved forward, kissing all the smooth skin that was free of pubic hair. I moaned from the exciting sizzles, and his tongue slid out, and started to glide up and down my syrupy lips. His tongue slid inside, licking up my honey, and I could feel his fingers spread apart my tender folds. His mouth went to work, and I gasped as his skilful tongue pushed and probed, licking me all over, nibbling gently, tasting me, making love to me with his mouth. His tongue slid back and forth over the hood of my clitoris. He drew my love bud gently from beneath its covering, and I panted with desire, as he went to work on my throbbing clit. I felt completely naked and open to him, just a mass of wanton lust, and my orgasm started to gather speed. I grunted with pleasure as he shoved two fingers deep inside me, and used his whole mouth on my slick, smooth pussy. That did it, and I felt like I was being eaten alive as I exploded, cumming hard, I screamed and thrashed wildly as my whole body convulsed in ecstasy, and I exploded into his mouth, feeling my juices gush. When the last shuddering had died down he then rose up, I could could see his cock, back up and ready for action, as hard as steel and fully erect. My sister was probably a virgin, but I sure as hell wasn't, and I wanted that stiffness, I wanted it shoved deep in my still buzzing cunt. I spread my legs wide, letting him see the V of my crotch, soaking with my lust juices, letting him know where I wanted it.
          
     "Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!", I gasped, desperate to have that big shaft fuck me to the core.
 
     He rubbed his cock over my naked and soaking mound, teasing me, driving me totally crazy with lust. He suddenly shoved his cock inside, and I squealed with pleasure as his cock stretched the walls of my cunt apart. I could feel his body shudder as he plunged into me right to the balls, filling me to the core, his balls slapping my ass. He pulled out and rubbed the head of his cock against my slippery clit, and then plunged in the full length again. Over and over, he pulled out to rub my clit and then slammed back in, I was almost delirious with pleasure. He fucked me faster and faster, my pussy sucking greedily at his cock, the smooth skin of my outer lips caressing his shaft. I felt my orgasm rush back at me, I shrieked with pleasure, thrashing wildly under his heaving body as my orgasm ripped through me, my pussy throbbing and spasming wildly. He grunted loudly, and slammed his throbbing cock as deep as possible. I could feel the explosion, the jetting pulses of his surging cock flooding me with his hot spunk. He arched into me and shuddered, as I felt the ridges in the upper wall of my pulsing cunt eagerly milking his swollen cock of every last drop.

     Back behind the wheel, continuing on our way, I knew Hanna was looking at me. She seemed awestruck, and proud that her sister would intervene, and let him use my body instead of hers. I smiled to myself, I didn't have to let her know that I had enjoyed it, that could be my little secret.

She told me how scared she was till Dave took his mask off and realized what what going on,, She was mad at me for not warning her and I told her she had to act surprised as well to make it work. She looked at me and commented that I think everything out.. It turns out that cant be any farther from the truth..

As I was fucking my mother in law she was telling me how they taped the two of them eating each others pussies and how they filmed my wife getting fucked in her ass and pussy at the same time with a cock in her mouth.. .. I found it funny because I cant even put a finger in her ass without her saying no fucking way. She told me Dave made my wife fuck him like she wanted it but I thought nothing of it. . . It was about all I could take listening to my mother in law as I hurried up and blew my load in her pussy so I could get to Dave's to see the tape.. She said she had a great time but enjoyed one on one with me the most.. Awwwwwwwwwwww...lol

  When I got to Dave's he was sitting there all cool in his recliner.. I walked in and grabbed a beer and sat down.. He asked me if I was ready to see my wife get fucked? I was like hell yea. Dave hit play on the dvd he had made and he looked at me and said he was the only one with a copy.. I trusted him and started to watch.. There were 4 guys and my wife and mother in law. And when the show started I was actually getting mad at the fact that my wife was sucking cock and getting fucked. Then I actually started to get turned on but I did feel bad for her at times.. After the guys had cum on her face the movie ended and I thought for a second and looked at him..,

 He said that's when he shut the tape off so I said ok that's cool. He walked up and handed me a copy.

 "Here is your copy and your mother in law said she wanted to watch it.. She has a great pussy but your wife has a great pussy man I cant believe you aren't fucking it every night.."

I told him I wish I was. And when I'm on afternoons I don't get home till midnight and she is sleeping by then. Took a copy and left. It was now Monday and I was on afternoons.. I left for work at three pm like I normally do. My wife doesn't like talk on the phone so once in a while we e-mail each other and that's about it for contact when I'm at work.

   Around eight pm Dave went over to my house and my wife told him I was at work and wouldn't be home till later. He told her that he knew that and he wanted to talk to her. When she let him in he said he had to show her something but not in front of the kids so she brought him upstairs to the bedroom.. He pulled out a disc and said he had something to show her. When he said that she froze. Not really sure what was on the disc he grabbed the remote and hit play.. Right away the scene went to the other night when she was raped..

All of rape wasn't there but the part where she was begging to get fucked was. She was crying sitting on her computer chair when she realized that it was Dave that night.. She started to scream and yell and told him she was going to call the police. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the hair and told her..

  "Listen here you stupid cunt. So you see the video YOU fucked me..you begged me to fuck you .. Who are they going to believe? I will tell them you wanted to make the video and your husband will see it and who do you think he will believe? He will think that's why you don't fuck him.. Yea bitch he told me you never want sex so I figured its time you do. And like it or not you stupid bitch I own your ass now and your going to fuck me anytime I want anywhere I want.. You ever go to the cops or tell your husband I will show them the tape and tell them your trying to cover up your own desires..He will leave you and what will you have left with two kids and a porn tape on the internet."

  She sat there crying begging Dave not to do this that she wont go to the police to just leave. Or how he was my best friend..He looked down at her and said. "Yea he is my friend but its you I wanted to fuck since day one and he wont ever know will he bitch."

With that he pulled out his cock and told her to start sucking it. She hates sucking cock so when he grabbed her by the hair again he gave her a choice..

"Suck it or everyone sees the tape"

. She started to suck it when he was reaching down and rubbing her tits.

"Yea that it your going to be my bitch and your going to do everything I say aren't you?" She didn't say a thing "AREN'T YOU"

 He yelled She mumbled something with his cock in her mouth.So he pulled out and asked her again.

"Yes Yes I will do what you say."

"You going to be my fucking slut?"

" Yes I will do what you what"

 "Good girl that is what I want to hear now get up and turn around I want that pussy of yours. "

She was crying as she stood up and he grabbed her hips and swung her around and told her to pull her pants down. She did as he pushed her over so her hands were on the chair. He pulled her panties down and told her from now on she was to wear thongs to show her beautiful ass.. (She hates wearing thongs) He spread her legs apart a little wider and licked his fingers and noticed she was wet already.

"Your liking this aren't you bitch?"

"NO she said I'm always like this when I'm ovulating."

 "Cool I'm going to knock you up then."

She begged for Dave not to cum inside of her as she told him I was fixed and he told her that wasn't his problem." She begged that she would swallow it instead (she wont even let me cum on her or near her mouth) With that he said for her to start going on the pill again and she will swallow till them. He thought he didn't want to ruin a good thing by getting her knocked up)

As he fucked her from behind he lifted her up and moved her to the bed. When he turned her around he pulled her top and her bra up exposing her tits. But when he leaned into her his cock started rubbing against her clit and she could feel herself nearing orgasm. She thought to herself no no no she cant have an orgasm not now. A moan escaped her mouth as he put more pressure onto her clit. With that she couldn't take anymore and exploded with a soaking wet orgasm and muffled moans through her hand covered mouth..

"Yea that's it baby you cum all over my cock I knew you wanted me to come back I know you went faking it that night and your not faking it now."

   She didn't want anything to do with Dave but he was right she couldn't help it but get turned on. She thought maybe because Dave's cock was smaller then mine so it didn't hurt but either way she knew it was wrong but there is nothing she can do she is trapped.. It wasn't long after when Dave pulled out and pulled my wife off the bed and on her knees.

"Suck my cock and swallow it all baby I know you want to. If you spill a drop I wont ever pull out again."

He held her face over his cock as he pumped shot after shot down her throat..She was gaging but he didn't care. When he was done she pulled away and started gasping for air. Sitting there on her knees she knew her fate. She was going to be his fuck toy from now on. A part of her hated him for it but a part of her was opening up inside. She didn't know what to be more afraid of..

  " I will be in touch with you and you will obey me or else you got that?"

 "Yes Dave I will just don't tell anyone I don't want to lose my family. "

"Kiss me" "Dave please I don't want to"

 "Well I will keep making you till you do it on your own and one day you will"

 He kissed her deep putting his tongue into her mouth. He could taste his own cum and told her.

 "You must like the taste of my cum its still in your mouth"

 She lowered her head and he kissed her on the forehead and said he would be in touch with her and walked out of the room and left the house. I had sent three e-e-mails to her by the time she replied to me that her night was boring that she must have fallen asleep. She said she would be in bed before I got home so to me tonight was the same as any other night at home.. How wrong I was. When i got home I put the dvd in of her getting fucked and the tape always ended as they all cum on her or in her and my mother in law.

To be continued

• What Michael says is true but there are things he does not know
• It started in January 1961 
• The three of us were interested in girls at that age but it was always look but don’t touch. This was a great adventure to us
• When Michael came to us with his proposition with thought it was great fun it was only after he had left us that we thought about keeping the film and using it to our advantage. It was my camera we used.
•  When Michael had sex with his mother she did not undress just took her shoes and knickers off laid down and lifted her skirt up. Michael undressed completely.
• He was so quick we only took five or six pictures of them together. I took them.
• Michael understates how upset his mother was when we demanded sex. We were serious the pictures would have gone to Alan's father who was in the police.
• Age of consent was 18
• In the woods we made her strip from the waist down. I was the first to have sex with her and we were both virgins
• The two of us were intending to see her again it was only the next day when we discussed making money.
• On our first visit to the house she was really upset I have never seen anyone before or since cry as much as she did.
• What inspired our idea was a newspaper article where a woman had had sex with a seventeen year old boy once and received a four year prison sentence. I had cut the article out and as she knelt down begging I showed her the article that I had cut out.
• In the bedroom it was me that took her dress off and Alan her underwear.
• Yes we took pictures and sold some of them to Danny. Later I sold more.
• From what Michael says she did not tell him the full frequency of our visits
• In the second week Alan and I visited twice - Monday and Tuesday- each time with three different friend five of us in total and Danny took six friends on the Friday
• On the Monday visit she burst into tears as soon as she opened the door and saw it was us. She did not say a word but walked straight upstairs undressed without any prompting she lay on the bed and opened her legs. That was when I realised we could command her and could have sex with her when we wanted.
•  We called at least once a week and typically there would be three or four of us but sometimes up to eight of us plus Danny would also take a group of friends on a different day.
• For the first few weeks she would beg us not to come back.
• After about four weeks she stopped crying.
• We always charged half a crown I made about £30 and Alan £25. Danny took larger groups to see her and said he made about £40 in the first year
• At first she would lay on the bed for us put her hands above her head and spread her legs. We would lay on top of her hold and touch her breasts and then have sex. She never moved.
• About five months into our visits I was there when as she was having sex with one of us and she started to make mewing sounds and brought her hands down from above her head and held his buttocks and started moving her hips. We were too young to know but later I realised she was climaxing.
• From that climax day she changed at first she would always put her arms around us, then she initiated kissing then after a couple more visits would always move her hips with us. On most visits she would climax at least once sometimes twice.
• She rapidly changed soon she was undressing us and would frequently put her hand between our legs and stroke us. She encouraged us to touch her between her legs with our hands and to kiss her nipples. I am quite certain that from about six months out from the start that she enjoyed herself.
• She did not tell Michael the full number of lads that had bought rolls of film as I sold at least six.
• I once turned up with four friends and found that there was already a group of five already there. She let all ten of us go with her.
• Typically a visit would last and hour and as far as I could find she was receiving visits about twice a week. Occasionally we would meet somewhere different. If there was a larger group of us we would have her come to Alan's house while his father was at work. She would sometimes arrive with her baby daughter in a pram leave the pram downstairs and go upstairs with us. Typically there would be at least eight of us for these visits. Our ages ranged from thirteen to seventeen.
• It was a risk we were several times nearly caught by family coming home. Once there were three of us with her when Donald came into the house she had to lead him into a room while we sneaked out of the door. We treated it as a big adventure.
• We would sometimes invite Michael and make him go with her. On those occasions she would pretend not to enjoy herself and simply lay still
• For her I think things changed when I invited our next door neighbour Mr Weaver. She looked horrified when I arrived with him. He was the biggest man I had ever seen both tall and broad with big muscles. He worked at Cape Mills on a night. When she saw me offer to sell one of the films to him she shouted “no don’t, please no” she tried to snatch to film canister out of my hand but Mr Weaver knocked her hand down and took the canister. He gave me £5 turned to her and said “I have always wanted my own whore”. She burst into tears and rushed from the room upstairs. On that first visit he had her sucking our cocks and using different positions I learnt a lot that day. Previously she had always laid on her back for us. He was quite rough with her.
• From then on she would use different positions. On my next visit she gave me full oral sex without me asking.
• On one occasion my neighbour called me over and showed me some pictures he had had developed. They were in a large A4 size. There were pictures of her posing naked by herself, pictures of her having sex with men. There were even some pictures taken in the mill in one she was stood naked with a group of naked men, another she was tied to a loom with her legs spread. Mr Weaver said he was charging £1 a time to go with her.
• She seemed to visit him once week. A few times he invited me to join in.
• I stopped taking groups to see her in late 1964 but did make continue visits by self about once a month for another year. I know Danny used her until at least 1966 but after that I don’t know what happened.

These events start in 1960 when I was 13 and as far as I can recall are accurate. Due to my health I have told the following story and Ginger has written it out for me.

I lived on

I was in the school playground when Ben approached me, I think he was trying to get in with the school bully. He explained that two days before he had obtained pictures of a woman called Mildred having sex with her son and was blackmailing her into sex. I did not believe him. After lunch we skipped school I went with Ben, Brian Ross, Jamie Tobin and Robin Brown to her house. Ben knocked on the door, when she opened the door and saw us she went white. “What do you want?” she said? “We want to go upstairs with you” said Ben. “Well I don’t want to” she said. “Well you are” said Ben “otherwise I am going to the police” he threatened. Mildred took us up to her bedroom and stood facing us she was in tears “you are too young for this” she sobbed. Her eyes were red and tears were running down her face. “Strip to your knickers” or else threatened Ben. She stood there head bowed and not looking at us she undressed down to her bra and knickers. “No, No” she said quietly “I am not taking anything else off, you can look and then go”. “We are not going, you can take that bra off” he said. She took her bra off. Jamie, Brian, Robin and me looked at each other amazed. I had never seen a woman undressed and had never seen one in such distress, her shoulders were shaking and I could see tears dropping to the floor. Ben moved to her and fondled her breasts, we then each took it in turns to fondle her. She looked up and stood perfectly still legs tight together, arms clamped to her sides and stared wide eyed at the wall behind us. Looking back I think she was in some kind of shock, she did not say another word while we were there. Ben knelt down and pulled her knickers down, he had difficulty because her legs were so tight together. She had dark pubic hair and we took turns in touching it. She laid on the bed when he said but still kept her legs tight together and arms by her side, she stared at the ceiling eyes wide open. She would not open her legs or respond to us so Jamie and I each took an ankle and pulled her legs open. Ben lay on top of her I watched his bottom going up and down as he fuckd her. When he had finished she lay where she was with her legs still open. I lay on top of her it took a few moments for me to find her entrance, inside I could feel the wetness Ben had left inside her. I enjoyed loosing my virginity. After we had each had a go we left.

In bed that night I lay thinking adults had always put me down and here was a chance for revenge. I plotted.

The next day I followed Michael her son home from school he was the one that his Mildred had gone with and the pictures were now used to blackmail her. I caught up with him as he reached their house on Fernbank Avenue, number 27 I think. He was surprised I told him to open the house door and we went in. “What are you after” he asked? “ you and your mother I replied. When Mildred saw me she shouted “go away”. I bluffed “Ben has let me have some of the photographs” I said. That stopped both of them. I took my camera from my school bag. “both of you undress” I ordered. They both blustered and got upset but undressed. When Michael refused to lay on top of his mother I kneed him in the groin. I turned to her and said “he will get worse than that every day from me if you do not do as you are told and you will be in prison”. She lay on the floor naked and Michael lay on top of her. I had 24 exposure film in my camera and took some of him on top of her and some of them laid side by side. I quickly left them before anyone turned up.

The following day was Saturday and mother worked. About 9am father would set of to the bookies and then to the pub until 3pm. I would usually go to the local park where a large group of us would play football for a few hours. I had often noticed Mildred walk past my house at about 10am most Saturday mornings. This Saturday it was cold and wet. I met the usual lads in the park and explained my plan. We returned to my house and the 12 lads and Derek squeezed into my bedroom we were aged 11 to 14 . Just before 10am I went and leant by my garden gate. Mildred came walking along the footpath huddled in a big coat. “Hello” I said as she walked past. She ignored me. “I have your photographs” I said. She stopped and looked at me “I think this should stop now!” she exclaimed. “No” I answered back. “I want you now in my bedroom”. “What! Now?” she said “What about your parents?” “Out I said so you can not escape from me with that idea”. I grabbed her arm and pulled her up the footpath, she pulled back dragging on my arm but reluctantly followed me through the house door. Her eyes were already wet. “Take you coat and boots off” I ordered. She complied without looking at me. “up the stairs first door on the left” I said. She trudged up the stairs slowly. “Open the door” I said. She opened the door and gasped when she saw all the expectant faces looking at her. “Oh no, I’m not with all you” she cried out. I gave her a hard push in the back and expectant hands grabbed her arms and pulled her into the bedroom. I shut the door behind me. She struggled, kicked, scratched and screamed  but there were only us to here her and too many of us. Her blouse and bra came off first. Her naked tits bounced as she struggled with us. “Roll her on her stomach” I said. Many hands forced to lie on the bed face down. We pulled her hands behind her and tied several lengths of rope around her wrists. She stilled tried struggling but several hands held her as I put my hands up her skirt and ripped her tights off and then pulled her knickers down to her knees. Her knickers now inhibited her movements and we removed her skirt with ease and then those knickers. I slapped her face and said “lie still” she lay crying her eyes were puffed and nearly closed. she still continued kicking and screaming so I pushed her knickers into her mouth. I calculated we had five hours before father returned. We all undressed as she watched it took four of us to hold her kicking legs still and wide open. Near the end of the five hours I went downstairs and fetched fathers belt. The thwack of it on her buttocks sounded ever so good to me and I knew the power my father felt when he did it to me.  As she left I warned her not to say anything otherwise the pictures would go to the police.

I went with Mildred on many occasions usually with the others who had to pay but some Saturday mornings I would intercept her and bring her into my house. Usually there would be just Derek and myself and the belt would be introduced near the end. But one time father came home early, Mildred and Derek were laid naked on the bed and I was stood beside it. He stood in the doorway swaying with the drink, “get out” he said to Derek. He turned to me “go downstairs and fetch the sweeping brush” he slurred. When I got back to the bedroom he was laid on top of Mildred with his trousers around his ankles. When he had finished he belched and was sick over her. He grabbed the brush from my hands knelt between her legs and pushed the handle inside her so deep she cried out in pain. He left the room I watched as she removed the brush handle, there was blood on it. Father never mentioned the incident maybe when he woke up he had forgotten about it.

I met him when he approached me at a night club. I had noticed him watching me earlier as I walked about with my friends. I smiled to him once as our eyes met. His features were obviously Slavic and I was instantly enticed. To some French is a turn on. In my case, to hear a man speak Russian or Estonian, even three seats away in a subway train, sends shivers all over my skin. If one were to speak to me directly, the tremors would be inside me, originating from where I wanted him to be inside me. A mere accent has the same effect. I’ve always had Slavic classmates. Yet this fascination has never faded and these men with their sexy languages remain ever exotic and tempting.

He introduced himself as Vanya, which, I remembered, is a petname for Ivan. We went through the basic routine; are you here with friends, have you had a nice evening, do you come here often. He acted casual but there was something utterly seductive about him and I quickly found myself seriously aroused. I must have seemed a bit flustered as I had difficulties making my brain work. The sensual sounds of his accent, and the movements of his lips with them were profoundly erotic. We were both interested in nature and talked about plants, birds and fishing though he only knew the names of the species in Russian and I in Finnish. Save that, he spoke Finnish very well, but he had this air about him and an intense glare that made me a little wary of him.

Our friends were growing restless. My friends never approved of my interest in Slavs; they saw all of them as rogues or criminals. They tried to pry me away from him to dance. His friends wanted to move on to another club. Vanya wanted to stay and had a heated conversation with his friends. I had taken courses in high school, but only recognized random words like went, us, tomorrow and understood nothing. I had forgotten much of the little I learned five years ago.

In the end he gave in and agreed to leave with his friends. Russian men are very polite in courtship. They never presume to touch a woman without permission. Vanya came to me and asked “May I?” I was confused of all that was happening and blurred “Yeah,” without thinking. Before I had time to savour it, he kissed my cheek teasingly just beside my ear. He whispered good night and something in Russian, of which I understood only sorry, go, want. His kiss left me trembling in desire.

My hands shook as I finished my drink. I felt terribly empty. I was sad and disappointed; we didn’t even get a chance to dance. I was wet and stirred and wanted to be pressed hard against his body. I dearly wanted to kiss him, have his large hands fondle me roughly. And now I lost him. My pussy didn’t feel just empty. It felt hollow.

***

I was moving between racks of skirts when I saw him. It was two weeks since that night at the club. He stood there, smiling at me, just three racks away. He looked less ominous in the daylight but had lost none of his charm. I adjusted my previous guess to him being about 35. He greeted me obviously happy of running into me. I was so glad I stuttered when I tried to say hi. My surprise spread as tingling to every part of me.

I had thought of him a lot and all the shameful things I had wanted him to do to me. Now that he was in front of me, I felt naked. The little hairs on my skin stood up and my nipples hardened visibly. I was sure that with those intense eyes he could see all the scenes in my mind. I looked at his hands and saw them grabbing me by the hair while he’d fuck my mouth, clasping my wrists together, forcing painfully into my pussy, pressed against my mouth to stifle my screams. I knew I was dirty, but I didn’t want him to know that. He’d be disgusted.

We talked silly nothings for a while and decided to meet the next evening for a walk in Kaivopuisto, one of the city’s most famous parks. The more he spoke with that accent, the slicker my pussy got. His appearance did not go unnoticed by my friends further away in the department store. I was eager to meet him where my friends wouldn’t be rolling their eyes behind us. Suddenly he picked a fallen leaf out of my hair, gently brushing his hand against my neck as if he didn’t mean to. He was so close to me I could smell the warm luring scent of his skin. “Birch,” I stuttered. We said goodbye and I started waiting for the day to end so the next could come.

I lay in bed that night, restless and aroused, with his smile and scent in my head. I could still feel my skin smouldering where his hand had brushed it. I reached down, parted my legs slightly and started massaging my clit, moaning softly. I was so worked up that I came, whining, after just a minute of quick strokes. I rested, caressing my breasts, until I quit panting and began again to stroke myself, pinching my nipple with my other hand. I started slowly; my clit was so tender right after coming it barely stood touching. As the tenderness eased, I stroked faster and pressed down harder. I opened my legs wide and imagined, how it would feel to have Vanya pull my legs apart as far as they would go, and shove himself all the way in me in one cruel thrust.

I couldn’t bear the aching hollowness in my cunt anymore. I fetched my favourite dildo and fucked myself with it, hard enough for it to hurt and leave behind a steady pulsing ache. I pushed the dildo in until I could feel it pressing against my cervix. I squeezed my thighs together to keep it in and resumed rubbing my cunt, holding my breath, waiting to cum and for the tension to ease. This time when I came, my spasming pussy cramped on the rigid dildo inside me, and the ache gave way to a sharp pain. I wailed  in lust and panted heavily. I gradually slowed my hand down and finally stopped. The seething ache was sweet and cured the cold hollowness. I masturbated myself to three more orgasms before my body relaxed into deep sleep. Each one took a longer time rubbing my hand in circles, each time a shorter pause for my clit to suffer new stimulation.

***

It was autumn and darkness fell early. I was a bit skittish in the park after everything but a few streetlights had gone dark around us. I was relieved, there were no awkward silences or weird moments. With time I got over his erotic accent enough to actually talk with him, instead of swooning with his every word. As lovely as it was, when it got dark I realized that he was nonetheless a total stranger. The dark park frightened me as I thought what could happen to a girl in a park with a stranger. For all that, if the stranger was Vanya, the idea was as much enticing as it was alarming. I didn’t think he was the type to bring his friends along to ambush and rape me.

I wanted him to touch me, but I couldn’t tell if I wanted him to do it gently or by force. He offered to walk me home, to make sure I’d be all right and I was grateful. I did not like to be harassed, like a lone woman always is on a Friday night on streets and bus stops. I wasn’t brave enough to tell the drunken jerks to go fuck themselves. With Vanya beside me I was safe, like he was carrying me in his arms. He probably could do that, he looked strong and, without his warm smile, frightening.

We got each others phone numbers at the door of my building and agreed to meet again soon. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted a touch. There had been the brief and careful oops-don’t-trip or let-me-give-you-a-hand-there probes during the walk. That had been teasing and I needed some kind of conclusion. I wanted a kiss, a real passionate one, and I wanted him to hold me, tightly like he owned me. I wanted to feel him. I wanted a strong touch that would make him real, but he was ever so polite. I didn’t want to seem loose or too eager and thus didn’t initiative. “Vanya,” I called from the doorway, “What was it you said that night after the goodbye? You said you were sorry to go and that you wanted something. What did you want?”

He was surprised, and for the first time a little uncertain. “Oh, you understood it.” He sounded embarrassed. “I’ll tell you the next time.”

I started up the hallway stairs but didn’t hear the door slam shut. Suddenly he was behind me, breathing heavily. He shoved me against the wall, placing his mouth just above my ear. ”I said I was sorry to go ‘cause I wanted to fuck you raw.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding and whined. His words sent a shiver down my back, which released a smouldering flush of heat between my legs. He nuzzled the side of my neck letting out a low lustful groan. He was real to me now. I could smell his scent again and drank it in. “Vanya, please,” I tried. He cut me off.

“I can smell your heat girl,” he hissed. “Now take me up,” he said in a hoarse whisper that vibrated on the skin behind my ear, and continued in Russian, “I want to be inside you.”

With his last remark, I felt the distinct tingle of my pussy getting wet. I wanted him badly, but regardless of that I was terrified of him. He was bigger than me, so if he came up into my flat I’d be helpless. I didn’t want to be beaten up, have my face smashed, get cut or maimed or end up in a dumpster. I kept still. I didn’t call out for my neighbours. I stood pinned, my face to the wall, and sensed how strong he was. His arms around me were like some twisted parody of a loving embrace. My panicked mind had frozen from the violent desire in his voice. If I’d tried to run I’d have had no chance.

“Vanya…” My voice was weak and pleading. He took that as a submission of defeat. He lifted me in his arms and started towards the stairs. I didn’t resist. On the third floor landing I looked up, but not into his eyes. “Vanya,” I whispered again, and he followed my gaze from his shoulder to my door. I picked the key out of my bra for him to see. He hesitated to let me down. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to. I was less afraid when he held me like this, than when he was a growling menace pressing against my back.

He put me on my feet with a grunt. I opened the door with my eyes on the floor. Confused, I stood in the doorway, not knowing how to go in. My hands and feet seemed paralyzed. I wouldn’t lead him in like I’d invited him. Nor could I walk in, knowing he was right behind me, waiting to come at me like a hungry wolf. He resolved the situation by picking me up again. He carried me in and kicked the door shut.

***

He put me down to sit on the living room table. I still couldn’t move. I wasn’t terrified, just deeply confused. I wanted and didn’t want, feared and didn’t fear, seethed inside and was frozen. The one feeling I was sure about was shame. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’d given some kind of a consent, for I hadn’t stopped him from coming to my apartment on our first date. I’d acted like a slut, letting him manipulate me. He’ll think I wanted this all along. Did I? I couldn’t look at him and kept my head down. “не бойся,” ne boisya, he said. “Don’t be afraid.” He took gently off my scarf and coat, taking his time. He kissed my face and my ears. “не бойся,” he reassured me. Last he took off my heels. He caressed delicately my feet and ankles and stood up.

He stroked my cheek and held me by the chin until I looked at him. “I know what you want baby, don’t worry. I’ll use you. I’ll hurt you. I’ll make you scream for me, but I won’t break you.”

I felt another sudden flow between my legs. I wondered how long of this it would take, for my juices to start running down my thighs. He had the accent, he had the look, he had the air and he had the voice. I turned my face back down, eyes closed, wanting it all to go away. I was mortified. How could I be turned on by this? I was dirty and filthy and soon, I guessed, I’d be spoiled. I couldn’t stop the tears. He saw inside me. He knew. I couldn’t bear another person knowing what filth was in my mind. I stuttered between the sobs “You. No. I don’t. It’s not…” but I had nothing to say.

”Shh, не бойся, не бойся. Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of you baby,” he whispered kissing my forehead.

It took a while, but I calmed down and asking a stranger permission in my own home I whispered meekly “Can I use the toilet?”

I cleaned my face up and tried to breathe steady. I knew I couldn’t back out of it. I would have to brace myself, and hope this gentle man in him would keep me from the savage beast I’d seen glimpses of before. I returned to the living room to find him sitting on the couch. He’d taken off his own coat and shoes. “Come,” he beckoned. I went to him and he made me stand before him. With his hands on my waist he looked into my eyes and asked “Do you trust me?” I squirmed weighing his menacing behaviour and stern earnestness. I shut my eyes, mind racing. He let that one go. “Do you want me?”

Shit. What the hell could I’ve said to that? I was silent for a long time. He wanted an answer. I’d get raped, or something dangerously close to it, if I’d say yes, but his closeness made my body respond in undeniable arousal. Trembling all over I nodded.

“Baby, that won’t do.”

I lifted my head a little, looked at him gingerly and managed a whining, scared, “Yes.”

He stood up. I still couldn’t shake my shocked inertia. “Good,” he said grinning wickedly. I was like a doll as he slowly, piece by piece removed my clothes. He kissed every inch of skin he revealed. I soon expanded my school vocabulary to contemporary Russian smut as he undressed me, murmuring dirty things, inhaling my scent, nuzzling my neck, licking, whispering, biting. I knew the wolf was waking and the man who’d carried me in his arms was fading. Among his obscenities was one word I clung to: душенька, dushenka, baby. He said he wouldn’t break me, I repeated in my head. As long as I’m his baby he won’t break me.

The mixture of rough and sweet caresses woke up my senses. I shivered, panted and moaned from his slightest touch, as he went on exploring my body. By the time my clothes were gone, along with my jewellery and hairpins, I wished he could envelope me, touching all parts of me at the same time. My nipples were hard and sensitive, eager for his touch. Yips of pleasure escaped my throat as I waited him to move down, to where I most needed him, most wanted him. I wasn’t confused or hesitant anymore. I wanted him to fill me, to cure the lonely emptiness between my legs, to reduce me to helplessness and take me, hard.

His face was at my crotch and I could feel the warmth of breath on my skin. He blew air into my tuft of ginger gold hair. I murmured in ecstasy. He stroked my slit so lightly, that it was more an inkling than a touch. I cried out softly. “Are you wet for me, baby?” I felt more of his hot breath and his finger stroking me, tangibly now. Slowly, savouring the moment, he slid a finger into the pool of wetness inside. I heard the slick sloppy sound of my barely contained juices, now released, spreading everywhere. He emitted a loud satisfied sigh as he found out how my body had reacted to him. Having heard that sigh, I was suddenly too overwhelmed to support my own weight. I was about to sit down on the sofa, when he picked me up again, naked. I had half expected him to fuck me crudely on the living room table, but he carried me to my bed. To my safe bed, which would hold me together with this grim threatening man, to whose gentler manipulation my body responded beyond all caution.

He took off his sweater but left the white T-shirt beneath it on. I liked the look of him: naturally robust, ordinary, not pumped up gym meat. He sought my gaze and asked “What do you want, душенька?” My nakedness embarrassed me and I lowered my face. He gestured and, complying, I lay down prone on his lap.  He stroked my back and buttocks, running his finger along my crack to tickle my glistening pussy. I let out a sharp ecstatic sigh. His hands found the sensitive spot in my neck and I arched in pleasure when he caressed it. His hands massaged my thighs with a strong confident grip. When his finger flicked teasingly on my pussy lips my body rose and arched to get the finger in. “What do you want baby?” He kept stroking me. “I can fill you up and I can make you scream. Is that what you want?” He applied pressure against my thighs and I opened them giving him access to use me. “You’re burning up, girl.” He blew air on my pussy and I wailed in ecstasy but still couldn’t bring myself to answer him, to admit to either one of us, that my body was on the verge of collapsing from the need to have him penetrate me.

He rolled me on my back and told me to look at him. He gently spread my legs while looking straight into my eyes. I wondered what he would see in them. My cunt was contracting in expectation. I needed him. He placed two fingers on my clit, one on each side. He slid them back and forth in discord, teasing, never pressing my clit between the two. My heavy breathing paced up to loud whining gasps. He started dipping his finger in me, always one quick dip, no deeper than an inch, and an agonizing long pause ‘til the next one. Tensing up, I sank the fingers of my right hand in his upper arm while my other hand grabbed the sheets.  When I lifted my hips to meet the finger he’d slap me on the hip. He kept it up for so long I couldn’t take it anymore. I moaned his name and he kept asking me to tell him what I wanted. He wanted me to beg and I was getting desperate enough to do it. My body needed him to deliver on all the promises of his touches. I could feel every square centimetre of membrane inside my cunt itching for him to fill me up.

He grunted with displeasure. Hands stopped touching me and he started getting up from the bed. I feared I’d angered him and that he would leave. I shouted, “Vanya, I’m sorry,” and tried to get hold of him. Turning, I saw he’d stood up just to take off his clothes.

“You don’t want me to go, huh?” A triumphant, hungry grin spread on his face as he got back on the bed naked.

I admired his shoulders and arms, bare for the first time, and touched his skin timidly. He positioned himself between my legs. “You like to be pinned down?” I could feel him on the entrance of my pussy. “You like to be controlled?” I whined. “You like to be used?” With every word I twitched as a spasm of dirty pleasure washed over me. “You want to be forced? You want to be hurt? You want to be helpless?” His voice was a guttural snarl, angry and menacing and I was so wet there was a trickle down my crack and a wet stain on the mattress.

“Vanya, please,” I tried.

“Tell me what you want, душенька моя.”

“I want you.”

“Not good enough. Look at me!”

I did. Angry that he’d made me admit out loud that I loved him dominating me I snapped,  “I need you in me,” and more meekly, “Fuck me, please.” He let out a wordless growl, and before I had finished my desperate please, he buried himself in me with one forceful thrust.

I was wound up, horny, steaming and he knew he was the cause of it. I stretched my thighs ever wider to let him penetrate me deeper and he fucked me relentlessly. No matter the position, he found ways to reach just a little too deep and pound just a little too hard. I yelped as he banged my cervix with his cock. He turned me this way and that, rearranged me to his liking, not caring how awkward a position it was for me. He fucked me from uncomfortable, painful angles I didn’t know were possible. Nevertheless I liked it when it hurt, because it was his hurt. Moaning in pain beneath his heavy body only made me want more. I was on his mercy and I loved to be his.

Sometimes, when he really pounded me, my hands would instinctively shoot up to protect myself. He would grab my wrists in one big hand, and bend them forcefully behind me until I stopped struggling. He was evil and skilled and he felt so good. I’d had this yearning building in me the whole night and I was desperate for release.

“Vanya, please let me come. I need to come.”

He banged me especially hard and made me wail in pain. He clamped his hand on my mouth and growled in my ear, “My little girl wants more? не бойся, I’m nowhere near finished yet.” He adjusted his position so I could reach my clit. “Go on baby, come for me.”

He’d kept me aroused for hours and within one minute of needy strokes I cried out in pleasure, my pussy spasming. He quickened his pace and I was moaning and wailing as my climax ebbed. He rammed into me making an indescribable animalistic noise, and shot his load up my thoroughly used pussy. I loved the primal feeling of being marked as his property by having his seed in me. Even though I wouldn’t get pregnant, the atavistic meaning of mating turned me on. I cherished the sensation of being filled with something that came from inside him, from his deepest urges.

He panted on top of me lowering his head on the mattress beside my ear as I stroked his sides with my fingers. It was an awkward moment: he having to strip the role of beast and me the role of prey and us to meet each other, naked, spent and trembling, as lovers on the bed we made love in. He recovered some and rose from atop me, giving my face a few gentle kisses. He stroked my forehead and neck muttering in his language and I relaxed blissfully into his touches.

His cum was still dripping from me with my own juices, when he told me to lay still and got up. He returned soon with a glass of water and a dishwashing brush. He told me to drink and settled me back on the bed.

“I need to clean you up a bit, baby,” he said and parted my swollen pussy.

It prickled but didn’t hurt the first times he put the brush in me. Soon he was rapidly chafing my insides raw like he was sanding a block of wood. Pink pussy juice appeared on the bristles. First I yelped in exitement. Then I begged. Finally I screamed. I hadn’t gotten my sweet Vanya back after all and I tried to close my thighs to shut him out. He stopped with the brush and leaned over me, looking right into my eyes.

“Spread them. Now. And this time you’ll spread them wider and thank me, when I fill your cunt.” This was the beast, the man from the whisper in the night club. There was no mercy to be had with him. I reluctantly spread my legs, knowing it would be hard not to squeeze them shut again as the pain started. He got me to really splay them before he was satisfied. “Mind your manners now.” I tried to form the words thank and you from my moans and screams, but he ravaged me with such force I soon lost the ability to think. He gagged me, for he did not want alarmed neighbours calling the police. A few times he took the gag out, not wanting to miss out on all my shrieks. The brush went in and out, never slow, always fast to induce the maximum pain. My legs were strained and muscles hurting, but with him in this mood I dared not move from the position he had ordered me in. He made sure he treated every spot, all the while murmuring what a good girl I was and how he knew I was loving every second of it.

When he was satisfied I had no area of intact membrane inside me, he laid beside me leaving the brush jutting out of my cunt. He stroked my cheeks.

“Rest your legs for a while.” He took the gag from my mouth, stroked my lips with his finger and kissed me. “I’ll tie your legs up next ‘cause I will need you to stay still.” He kissed me on the forehead and in a twistedly loving manner put the gag back. I had grasped at his first kind words, thinking that I had now endured what he wanted me to, and realized what he’d said only after I was gagged again. I was in so much pain inside, bleeding and burning. Please Vanya, no more.

He was gentle again as he tied my ankles to the headboard with belts. He talked soothingly while working, changing to Russian and back. I listened really carefully to hear that душенька, baby. Somehow it would mean that what ever he planned next, I’d make it through. My legs were splayed wide again. At least I wouldn’t have to support their weight myself. Though I could relax my muscles and dangle from the ropes, I knew this position would soon become uncomfortable and painful. He was ready with the knots and took a moment to pet my head. He smiled and shook his head, “You’re so brave,” but he didn’t call me душенька.

He sat on the bed in front of my vulnerable crotch. I tried to see what he was doing, but couldn’t see below the horizon of my belly. “Babies come out of there,” he said in a pondering tone and brushed my labia lightly. “Yeah, there are hormones that prepare the pussy before giving birth, but mostly it is all about the ability of your pussy to stretch.” I heard a squirt and he was rubbing his hands together. I was shouting to my gag, begging him to stop before he even pulled the brush out of my throbbing poor pussy. He put his fist on my opening. “You were really tight on my cock,” he continued casually, “so this might hurt.”

He was a stocky man with big strong fists. I felt his hand slide in. He started with fingers. He dipped them in, getting his hand wet with pussy juice, semen and slowly seeping blood. There was the squirt again. Perhaps he pities me and found some lubricant. His hand started going in, balled into a fist. The chafing against the bloody walls of my pussy burned and I squirmed in my restraints. The burning got worse - a lot worse - worse than it should have. He noticed my writhing. “But I thought you liked lemon juice - you had it in your fridge.”

Vanya made a violent thrust with his fist eliciting more gagged screams from me. He kept pushing deeper. As I was tied up, I couldn’t even angle my pelvis into a better position to ease the way of the invading fist. “Open up, let me in.” If I managed to lift myself up a bit to escape him, there his fist would wait when I’d loose my strength. I’d slump down on it with all my weight and aid his raping ball of pain further inside. Vanya had decided from the start that I wanted to be his. It was a guess that made this not exactly a rape, but it wasn’t sex either. I was too scared and hurt for it to be sex. I didn’t want him to tear me apart. This savagery was beyond what I could handle.

The flesh of my pussy walls got crushed between my pelvic bone and his knuckles as he pushed. These were the same fingers that earlier caressed me into flowing wetness. I wanted to beg, but I couldn’t speak. I may have consented to having sex, but this pain was too much. I wanted it to end. I couldn’t think. I feared I’d go insane. All I could do was to scream into my gag and desperately try to escape his fierce punches. He hadn’t gotten past my pelvis by gradually pushing, so he’d moved on to pounding his way deeper. I struggled but all I got was more pain inside my cunt. Every once in a while he’d pull out, coat his fist again in lemon juice and push back in. Juice rubbed in the brushed sores and the balled hand stretched bruises from his earlier thrusts.

My thrashing angered him. “Hey!” He pinched my clit cruelly and my back arched in pain. “Stop your fidgeting. Don’t make me shove my other fist up your ass.” Please stop, take the gag out, please. I tried to make him understand with my eyes that I couldn’t take it anymore, but Vanya was unswayable.

His merciless efforts had forced my pussy to give way. He'd punched his fist a few centimetres further to lodge the widest part of it in my pelvic opening. Behind it he would find a deeper well, ending in my cervix.

“It’s gonna hurt real bad now. Take it. Be a good girl for me.” He gathered his strength for one last punch. I shrieked, sweating. He forced his way through and I, with my restraints and splayed sex, had no chance to stop him. His fist plopped through. “God, I love to stretch your tiny cunt.” I sobbed in pain and shock with his arm spearing me.

He tried to open his fist inside me but I was so tight he couldn’t move his fingers much. My pussy strangled his wrist slowing the flow of blood into his hand. He wrenched his thumb free and sunk it into my strained flesh. I had no strength to scream anymore. I mewed loudly when he moved in me. Gradually the pain numbed my mind and I started going limp. He smacked my face. “Stay with me!” New pain singled out from the sea of hurt. He was putting pressure on my cervix. “I’d love to force my fist into your womb to see if you’d pass out from the pain.” He was pushing his thumb in the closed opening.

I moaned, begging, pleading with my eyes. I had a contraceptive coil and having it inserted had been agony. That was done by forcing a little tube, no wider than a straw, into my uterus - not with a fist and a thick finger in an already bruised and battered cunt. The tissue was yielding and there were no muscles to defend the passage to my womb. I screamed despite my exhaustion. He applied pressure until his thumb got through. It had not the length to start torturing my innermost cavity but the pain of the forced penetration alone was terrible. He tried to push more of his forearm in, but his fist would go no further. Vanya wriggled his finger in the narrow passage to stretch it. He fucked his finger back and forth, transferring inside as much of the lemony cunt juice as possible to burn me. He ended his violation of me by tugging slightly the strings of the coil, making the sharp plastic object chafe inside me. The stomach convulsions nearly made me throw up. “Good girl,” he murmured, prizing the expressions on my tear-stained face.

Retracting his hand, he paused at my pelvic opening playing with his fist. His arm had had time to stretch the passage and his fist went through more easily. My pain hadn’t eased though as the tissue around the opening was ravaged. He fucked me with his fist until I went limp and felt nothing anymore.

***

It was night. I don’t know how long he’d let me sleep. “Wake up baby, you must take a wash.” I was groggy so he helped me to the bathroom. Walking wasn’t easy with the excruciating pain in my pussy and stomach. Doesn’t he need to sleep? He got me in the little room and explained. He wanted me to masturbate in front of him with the shower hose. I was to lean on the sink, offering up my pussy. He wanted to fuck me from behind and see my face in the mirror when I’d come. My pussy was so torn I thought I wouldn’t even feel him entering me. The pain couldn’t get any worse.

There was a touch on my asshole. I winced, but he told me to shut up. He applied pressure on my little bud, and I instinctively moved my hips forward to escape the probe. “I’m trying to be nice душенька. Move again and I’ll tear you apart.” The last words were growled menacingly in Russian and I knew he meant it. I forced myself still and the hard rigid thing plopped through. It was a little ointment tube he’d found. It didn’t hurt, but there was an uncomfortable stuffed feeling and a need to push it out of me. He pushed its whole length in and squirted a load of cold salve in my rectum. I waited for pain, for something to burn me like the lemon juice, but after removal of the tube I felt only a prodding finger, and another.

I took effort not to wince as he added fingers. He opened me up surprisingly gently compared to his treatment of my pussy. He stretched me painfully a couple of times: suddenly, giving me no warning. I moaned but didn’t beg - he wouldn’t have listened. His cock rested on my salve-smeared anus. I’d held my head down, ashamed, my eyes closed. He grabbed me by the hair and bent my head back. “Look at me,” he said in a voice empty of emotion, emphasizing every word. I gingerly opened my eyes. He wanted me to witness his degradation of me. I braced myself, but he didn’t want to damage my sphincter permanently, and eased the head of his cock in without using force. “See baby, wasn’t so bad was it?”

Having said that, he immediately started making me scream. He fucked me rough and had to gag me with a towel. “Look at me,” he hissed, and I did, afraid to defy him. He held on to my hips, pulling me on his cock as he rammed it in, opening me up deeper. He lunged, slammed, stabbed and drove in to me. He pulled back until just the head was in me and rammed in again in one brutal thrust, trying to reach places yet to be stretched and tortured. Between efforts to make me burn deep inside my ass, he paused to stretch my sphincter by moving the head of his cock rapidly in and out. My ring of muscle stretched repeatedly, violently. Skin chafed, tore and bled. No matter what he did, the pain was everywhere, my cunt still a bloody ruin.

He was grunting with satisfaction. Tears ran down my face and I screamed until my head felt hot and swollen. He told me to push against him, I pleaded I could not. It hurt too bad. I couldn’t speak through the gag, but he understood all the same. He threatened me with a can of hairspray. “Do I have to spray on your raw pussy and ram this up your cunt?” I started to fuck back, my stomach convulsed from the pain and the deep penetration. I heaved but had nothing in me to throw up. He had enjoyed the spasms. He reached his hand around my hips and smacked me hard between my spread thighs. He said it made my muscles twitch so nicely around his cock, and kept on smacking my unprotected pussy. I jerked every time a blow landed. I wasn’t all there anymore, it was hard to keep my head from lolling. The torture was getting to be too much. I’d been on the verge of collapsing for what seemed forever, and he just kept punishing me with his cock, raping my back passage.

I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to stand up. Something trickled down my leg but I could not look down. He wanted to see my gagged horrified face during all of it. He loved to make me cry and wanted to see my tears. After fucking me raw - I don’t want to know how raw I’d have been without his merciful dose of lube - he paused to calm down. He didn’t want to come yet. Now that I could feel his every movement in my burning, battered anal tract he he entered me gently. “I want you to cum for me душенька,” he whispered lovingly. “I raped your ass and you got all wet.” My cunt twitched and a shiver ran down my spine. He felt it too. His dirty talk still aroused me no matter how I hurt. I heard a satisfied smirk in his voice. “I want to see your face when you cum my little slut. Don’t worry, I’ll be inside you all the time, just the way you like it.”

My knees buckled but Vanya caught me. He shoved me against the sink and shook me by the hair, keeping his erection buried deep inside. He slapped me and shook me until my eyes started to focus again. He ran cold water from the tap and splashed it on my face and head. He calmly repeated his instructions. I fought to support my weight and did as I was told. I’d have done anything for him – out of fear or some more complex emotion I still can’t say. My clit smarted from his smacking, but I flooded it and tried to brace myself before every thrust of his cock. All the while he kept murmuring good girl, good girl in my ear and I was turned on by the words alone but his accent too. The stimulation on my clit didn’t lessen the pain any and I grunted when he moved, though he tried to be kind.

The warm flow of water coaxed an orgasm out of my exhausted body. He could feel me starting to climax, and forgot sympathy. He used me brutally, howling his own pleasure in animalistic growls as he lost control over his thrusts. It hurt so much; my tormented cunt was renewed in burning pain by intense convulsions and my torn bleeding anus spasmed around his cock. I spat out the gag and screamed in pain, heat and satisfaction until he put his hand over my mouth. Vanya bent my head to reast on his shoulder and shushed me until I quieted.

My orgasm subsided, the spasms and twitches weakened. He had come inside me, but my flesh was numb for the sting of his salty seed. He stayed inside me, nuzzled my neck and whispered, “You’re mine now, душенька моя.” As sick as it was, a wave of warmth surged from my chest - a wave named Vanya, that would surround me, float me and keep me safe. My both holes were one big throbbing mass of pain but they both held his seed, his. My feet gave way and I fell on the floor. I was vaguely aware that he washed me softly, dried me and carried me to bed in his arms.

He lay with me, letting me rest my head on his chest. He stroked my hair talking soothingly in Russian. Gradually I came to and he noticed me stir. I tried to move but couldn’t from all the pain in my body. “Shh, душенька, it’s all right. Lay still. I put pain tablets in your ass and pussy, but you’re going to be really sore for a while.” As the words sank in I started to cry. After all he’d done to me, this made me feel ashamed and filthy. He’d shoved a painkiller up my ass while I was unconscious. I’d been violated. During the rest of it I at least were awake. Then I remembered I had cum in the bathroom. After having been tortured in my cunt and raped in my ass, I’d had an orgasm while he watched, while he was inside me. The shame made me want to storm away, to get to a place where he couldn’t look at me. I tried to get up, but sank back down groaning through my teeth, when my pelvis moved. He’d never want me again now. The sobs aggravated the pain and he held me tightly against him, shushing me. He comforted me stroking my hair and whispering affectionately, until I fell asleep my head against his shoulder.

***

I woke up on Saturday afternoon. I was wet. My ass and cunt had trickled blood, semen and fluids during my sleep. I was disgusted. The pain had abated some, but I couldn’t sit up and put pressure on my battered insides. Vanya came from the kitchen bringing me water and some fruit. He said I shouldn’t eat or drink much as relieving myself would be agony. He’d gone shopping for the fruit while I slept. He left. And he came back. It’s silly how giddy I was, but he’d come back to take care of me.

He said I should get up and walk some though it would certainly hurt. He helped me up from the bed kissing my cringed face. My eyes teared up, standing up was rough. The pain was not only in my pussy and ass. My stomach had suffered from the punches and the relentless assrape, my back ached from being tied up. It felt like someone had kicked me. He walked me to the bathroom again. I hesitated. He took me to the sink and said he would wash me. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice,” he said. “I got some anesthetic gel while I was out. It’ll help you.” He took the shower and adjusted the water to a comfortable temperature. He crouched down to my crotch and aimed the stream on me. He rinsed my pussy lips thoroughly. “Open up, baby,” he asked gently but I hesitated. “Open up, I won’t hurt you.” I spread the little I could; I couldn’t stand bowlegged because of the cramps and the pain.

When Vanya ran his fingers along my slit I gasped, on the outside I wasn’t so hurt. He moved his finger on my opening and I stiffened. “Vanya no, please, don’t --“ I started but he cut me short.

“Shh, I won’t fuck you but I have to wash. You don’t want an infection. Besides I need to check I didn’t tear you up bad.” He pushed his finger in savouring it, he enjoyed this too much for it to be just a check. He felt my membranes and muscles probing carefully, missing nothing. He pulled out once in a while “to check there isn’t blood,” and pushed back in making me cramp forward in pain. “Trust me baby, it’ll be ok.”

After the first check he said he’d have to check my pelvic pass and cervix as well. I begged, tears already running down my face, but he argued it was necessary. “I want to take care of you baby, it’ll be over soon. I want to make sure there’s no permanent damage.” In he went again, deeper. I soon needed the gag again. His fingers probed deep, chafing my sores and pressing against the bruised flesh. With lingering fingers he felt around the edges of my pelvic opening, the most bruised part of my pussy. Sobbing I begged him to stop. He told me to relax and be brave. I don’t know if he noticed, but it was the exact same thing he said me the night before inflicting this damage. When he was satisfied he rinsed my cunt thoroughly, even spreading my opening and pushing the water hose five inches inside me. He caressed my butt cheeks while I moaned as the surge of water stung my sores.

“Turn around now,” he prompted.

“Vanya stop, not that, really I can’t--“

“Listen, I tried to do this last night but it was dark and you were out. I know it hurts, but I have to check there’s no muscle damage or need for stitches. I… I don’t want any real harm to come to you. It’s difficult to hold back when I’m… inside of you.”

“But Vanya it hurts!”

“Would it be different if I told you to do it, if I ordered you to stay still and let me in?”

I turned around and tried to think about the earnestness in his voice. He’d said it was all right, that he wouldn’t fuck me. As his finger went in I doubled over in pain. He took his time probing my ass. I don’t think it was as innocent or as detached from our earlier roles as he tried to convince himself and me. He’d linger to massage a spot in my rectum and go on despite my convulsions and pleas. He spread my hole with his fingers again and again, insisting it was to check if it would shrink back again as it should. A time or two I thought I heard a satisfied grunt as I cried out in pain. Neither was I as unmoved by his treatment as I’d like to think. I kept moaning and my head filled up from the endless well of my shameful nasty dreams.

After he finished my thorough anal examination he turned me around again, hands on my hips. There came blood with his fingers from both my holes but not enough for it to be serious. He started to rinse my pussy again, his face leaning very close. I felt his breath on me. The water stream lowered and lowered as his face touched my mound and he nuzzled it sighing, rubbing his face on me. He put the shower head on the floor and used his free hands to part my lips. I was hurting but the more excited I got the less I took notice of the aching and burning. “Oh jesus,” I moaned when his tongue rested itself on my clit. I was afraid of the pain I’d be in with orgasmic convulsions but it was more important right then to have him touch me.

He ran his tongue up and down my slit. He parted my lips with his hands and licked teasing circles around my clit without actually touching it. I pleaded for him not to tease me.

“What do you want baby?”

“Please don’t stop. Let me cum.”

He let out an aroused growl and sucked my clit between his lips squeezing gently. I moaned in pleasure as he rolled his tongue over my clit sideways in a rhythmic motion. He alternated between fast and slow, gentle and fierce, pressing harder and flicking lightly. I leaned my buttocks on the sink and focused all my thoughts on what his mouth was doing.

He hummed while pressing his face against me. The vibrations lifted me so close to an orgasm I stood rigid, holding my breath, waiting for the final surge to send a raging whirlwind of sparks through me. Keeping pressure on my clit with his finger he said quickly, “I should put another pill in you. Want me to do it now?”

I moaned something resembling, “Yeah.” I was too aroused to think. He fumbled the pill from a little cup on the sink, put his finger on my pussy and his lips back on my clit. I felt his finger start sliding in, hurting me. His touch had made me wet again. His tongue returned on me and he hummed against my mound. The pain radiated from his inwards pushing finger and I shouted out a howl of fulfilment as I came. My juices bathed his hand. In the throws of my climax I felt a finger on my anus. Vanya carefully deposited a painkiller in there too. It hurt badly, but it had been the pain, pain he’d given me, that made me cum. His finger slowly slid out of me. I shuddered and he stood up just in time to support me as I sagged against his chest, exhausted.

He walked me to the bed. Sitting down I braced myself for the pain. I thought, that during our time in the bathroom, I’d have had time to adjust to it, but it was as fresh as ever. I wailed until I was on my back, my weight off my pussy and ass. I lay there recovering from my orgasm wondering what Vanya was doing.

“Close your eyes,” I heard him say, voice suddenly stern. He didn’t sound like he had a surprise for me - a surprise I’d like that is. Apparently he’d decided that if I was ready to come, I’d be ready to be used again.

“Vanya I really hurt,” my voice sounded panicked, scared. “Please. I haven’t even started to heal yet. You promised you wouldn’t, please don’t hurt me.”

“I said close your eyes душенька. I won’t ask nicely again.” I closed my eyes and heard him walking to me.

He blindfolded me. A hand slid on my thigh “Spread ‘em.” I started crying and begging him. I curled myself as much in to a ball as I could with my bruised insides. Vanya wasn’t happy. He gagged me and dragged me to the center of the bed, rolled me on my back and yanked my thighs apart. “I take you when ever I feel like it,” he growled menacingly in Russian. “Understand?” He let my legs fall on either side of him and spread them further by uncaringly pulling them wider. He had a plastic syringe which he used to fill first my cunt and them my rectum with the anesthetic gel. Going in, the unyielding plastic tool scratched the membranes that were raw to begin with. I cringed but only a little whine got through my gag.

He sat between my legs looking at my exposed crotch and getting more and more aroused. He started fucking my ass with a finger, rougher than earlier in the bathroom. “You’re ass is slippery baby, you’re making me so hard I’ll soon have to take you again - hurt or not. I think I’d choose your butt. There is something so deprived in pumping you up the rectum, enjoying your sobs and screams.” He smacked my pussy hard to punish me for trying to get away from his finger. He pushed in and out, adding another finger and relishing my jerks of pain. “But, if I was to fuck your cunt, I could fill your arse up with a pretty plug and make you feel all nice and full.” I felt cool heavy silicone resting against my thigh. What the hell, did he go shopping for that too?

This time Vanya had gagged me with duct tape instead of a rag. I could make no sound but a stifled nasal whine. Nonetheless I tried to scream for him to stop.

“Relax душенька. It won’t hurt too bad. I want the gel to stay in, don’t I. I wouldn’t want you to be in pain.” He tried to fake a loving tone, but couldn’t hide the sadistic lust beneath. I was afraid to be gagged like this. Unlike a rag, I couldn’t breathe through duct tape. What if I start to cry and snivel? If my nose fills up with snot will I suffocate?

I felt something on my anus pressing to enter. To make sure I’d keep still, Vanya put weight on his palm resting between my naval and my mound. He pinned my hips down pressing on my gut, exactly where the pain was. He pushed the plug through my sphincter giving me no chance to adjust. It hurt, but it hadn’t been excruciating. His hand held me still and the invading plug continued to burrow deeper. It stretched the cuts he’d just opened up again in the bathroom. I thrashed and tried to escape. I wasn’t tied down, but with him it didn’t matter. I would never escape from beneath his large frame.

The plug had bulges on it from smaller to bigger and my hole got stretched in increasingly excruciating pain for four more times. When Vanya got to the third and fourth ball he stopped to pull them back out and repeated my painful stretch, relishing in my pain. The last was the worst: the big bump meant to keep the plug in me, no matter how I’d spasm or push. I couldn’t scream, but I could cry and I did. This kind of pain would have been maddening at any time, but after my anus tortured bloody not twelve hours past, the agony was unthinkable. Vanya please, you promised you wouldn’t break me. He pushed in slowly, making me feel it. My little hole struggled to give way. I had no way of knowing how much more was yet to come, how much wider he’d force me.

Vanya stopped, the widest part of the last ball spreading my opening obscenely. “You want me to take it out baby?” I nodded my head and kept nodding in desperation. I couldn’t plead with my eyes or my voice, but he could see I wanted it out. He saw I was in pain. “Ok, we’ll see what your ass wants.” While I was nodding, Vanya had pushed the plug in just a few millimetres further. Being past the ball’s equator my muscles started contracting. As my tight ring struggled to shrink back, it travelled down the plugs surface, eagerly sucking it in.

I cried and sobbed uncontrollably as it dawned on me how my own body had betrayed me. I had never felt more humiliated. Not this. I’m filthy, I’m filthy, I’m bad. He manipulated my helpless body to make it seem my tortured butt was begging him for more abuse. My body complies with him despite my will. He really does own me.

“Oh, your greedy ass is loving it. Can you feel it filling you, my lovely little slut?” The pain stopped getting worse. The plug sat snug in my rectum, where my own tortured body had sucked it in.

Vanya let me close my legs. The plug felt strange inside me. The mattress heaved as he got up from the bed. His weight returned and moved on top of me, straddling my chest and arms. He stroked my nose, my only source of air.

“Take a deep breath.”

I knew what he would do and sucked hungrily until he clamped my nose shut. I panicked instantaneously. If he’s a killer this is it. But he can’t be. He wanted to take care of me. He washed me, he held me. Could he suffocate me? I tried to wrench my head free but he was too strong. I need to breathe. I tried to throw him off me but he was too heavy. Will he kill me? Did he say душенька? I couldn’t remember. I need air. I can’t remember. I got to breathe.

He let go and I sucked in air and snot through my nostrils. He let me breathe for a minute and put a finger on my nose again. I fill my lungs, and the minute I stop sucking air he squeezes my nose shut. He didn’t say it. I was sure. Why won’t he talk to me? My lungs burned. I need to see his face. I don’t want to die like this. I tried to breathe through the duct tape though I knew I couldn’t. Will he really kill me? If I could just see his face I’d know. I need to breathe. I thrashed desperately but he was too heavy to shift or to get my hands free. I need air. Please let me breathe.

Thankfully he let go of my nose before I blacked out. He repeated this about seven times. I’m not sure. He allowed me three or four breaths of air between chokes. It was like I’d lived my whole life in the dark, waiting for a little hole to open, through which air would come. All other thoughts were gone. I was sure he’d continue until once he wouldn’t let go anymore, and I would have to suffer the burning pain in my chest until I’d die in panic.

I realized I had breathed free for some time. He tore off the duct tape and I gasped enjoying the safety of two airways. He stroked my face. He still hadn’t said anything and I didn’t like it. He’d made me afraid many times but his silence was worse, unnerving. It reminded me of psychopathic killers in movies.

He put one of his fingers in my mouth. I knew the meaning of that and sucked on it gently. He sighed. Perhaps he’d be gentle if I was. He took hold of my head by the hair and shifted his weight. His cock touched my lips. I kissed its head and teased him, flicking with my tongue. I was eager to please. I didn’t want to die. I needed to make him say something. I sucked him deeper into my mouth where I could massage him better with my tongue. As more of him slid inside my mouth he groaned “боже мой,” bozhe moy, oh god.

My hands were pinned by his thighs but were free from elbows down. I lay my hands on the backs of his thighs and nudged gently to imply he could control the rhythm himself. He groaned and pushed his way inside, seeking the depth where I’d start gagging. He started murmuring, but with words so blurred and incoherent I couldn’t make them out. His Russian made me safer. That flow of resonating buzz could not carry cruelty. I knew he wasn’t going to kill me.

He fucked my mouth slowly, keeping regular breaks letting me swallow some phlegm and breathe. When I was uncomfortable I’d touch his thigh lightly and he’d let me cough or lubricate him slicker with saliva. When we’d established a routine, he started moving faster and plunging deeper. He reached behind my head and removed my blindfold. The light stung my eyes for a while, but I was relieved to see his face again. He wanted to look into my eyes when he would push into my throat the first time. Just as he had wanted when he first thrust himself in my pussy or penetrated my ass. He fed me his whole length, not stopping when I began to gag. He buried his shaft deep, it tickled my larynx choking me. I kept his gaze defiantly. My pussy twitched in pleasure and my muscles tightened around the plug filling my throbbing butt. Vanya kept his hold on my head moaning, groaning and mumbling.

Wetness welled in my cunt when he started fucking my face for real. I was helpless: hands pinned down, head propped for easy access, mouth vulnerable and a cock down my throat blocking all screams and pleas, my face covered in drool. He had a rhythm of five or six fast shallower thrusts and a single slow one down my throat. He pushed until his balls were resting against my chin and he could get no deeper. I masturbated, massaging my clit faster and faster, while I licked his cock sliding past my tongue. Every time he paused to rest his length in my throat, enjoying my gags, my pussy tingled. I was wretched and I was horny and I loved his unyielding weight on me. He forced himself again down my throat and stayed there for a longer moment, not letting me breathe, murmuring to me what a good girl and how dirty a slut I was for him. His smut talk instantly washed me over the edge and I came, unexpectedly and violently. My throat spasmed and he kept groaning dirty things to me, as my third hole milked him as frantically as the others had. I felt like I was throwing up his cock. My legs thrashed uncontrollably. Rigid, cramping and convulsing, I rode an extended orgasm. He pulled out and I gasped for air, my slit still throbbing with arousal. I lay there dazed and content after my orgasm as he kept on using me. His pace got faster and faster until half of his frenzied thrusts bumped into my lips and cheeks.  

He started moving down my body, shaking. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna c… I’m sorry baby. The plug, gotta feel,” he panted. “I need to cum inside you.” At least I think it’s what he said for he had resorted to Russian. He’d lost his Finnish fucking my throat. He shut my mouth with his hand, rested his weight on his other hand by my head and eased his way in my aching burning cunt. He made a few slow strokes in and out to lubricate himself. I was dripping my own wetness and the gel he’d put in me.

He was too worked up to go easy on me and began pounding wildly inside me with desperate shoves. He bellowed the whole time, his back rigid, his stabs becoming more and more savage. He’ll make me bleed again. He was so close to coming, it took only fifteen seconds of cruel abuse of my cunt for him to explode inside me in uncontrollable shakes. It was an eternity for me though, every thrust agony, every bump against my hips torment. I had the plug up my ass which made my pussy even tighter, even less able to accommodate an invader. It was a good thing he had cupped his hand over my mouth because I howled in pain.

He collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily. Reaching down between my legs he whispered exhausted, “Be still now, I’ll do this as gently as I can.”

There wasn’t a way to do it gently. My sphincter had retracted closer to its normal state. He would force it open without any easing, and pull the plug out the biggest ball first. How would he be able to make it anything but excruciating? I started crying before he even touched the handle of the plug. He put his lips on my ear. “извините душенька моя.” Izvinite dushenka moya, I’m sorry baby.

The mass of pain that was once my pelvic region throbbed in agony. It hurt just to lay down and have my weight pressing it into the mattress. I could feel my heart beats in there as new blood gushed to the veins. By this time I was convinced that his anesthetic gel was placebo. He put the side of his hand between my teeth and started to pull on the plug. He was feeling guilty and didn’t want me to suffer the pain alone.

I tried to pant, relax my ass, to brace myself, to adjust my butt to a better angle, but nothing changed the fact that the thing would tear my anus yet again. He kept a steady pull on it. At first the plug dragged the skin and tissue around my anus outward with it. Slowly my sphincter started to stretch, showing a growing little circle of plug around its base. Vanya kept pulling and I bit down and tried not to scream too much so the neighbours wouldn’t hear.

The pain was so shocking my tears had stopped. I hated Vanya. I was furious. I was already hurting like hell before he took me to the bathroom to use my battered body again. He knew how raw and torn I was and he’d put me through more. He had no right. I remembered the buried alive panic when he held my nose shut while my mouth was taped. I stopped holding back and used his hand as a gag. I bit down on it as he pulled my insides out through my tiny opening, which would probably be a gaping hole by the time he’d get the plug out.

The anger helped me bear the pain. I seethed and hated and bit down on his hand and groaned.

“It’s almost out, just a little left,” he assured me but I couldn’t stop the scream anymore. The widest part was coming through. I knew after it the pain would abate, but it did not make these seconds any easier. The seconds were long. Vanya didn’t dare to pull harder and kept the same, steady, agonizingly slow pace. The last times he’d abused me, I had mercifully passed out, but now I wasn’t exhausted enough to receive the same pardon. Finally I felt the pain lessen. The plug came out, the smaller balls eliciting less intense twangs of pain. When it was gone my butt felt really strange. The raw aching feeling was familiar but the sense of void I’d never had in my butt before.

Vanya rose up and sat on the side of the bed looking at the floor. He was obviously anxious. I lay still and tried to get myself together.

“I’ll…” Vanya muttered, and stood up taking a few hesitant steps. “I…” he started but couldn’t finish.

I rose, fury overruling the crippling pain, and lunged at him. There was a disgusting slick feeling between my buttocks and thighs. I managed to surprise him with a hard slap in the face. I beat him in the chest and everywhere else in my reach and kicked him.

“God damn it Vanya, never fucking ever duct tape my mouth! I thought you were going to kill me when you pinched my nose you lying bastard! You said you wouldn’t --” At some point during my outburst I had started crying. I shouted and sobbed and pounded my fists on his chest. Me hitting him was like a ladybug hitting a sparrow, and when he’d had enough he simply put his arms around me and hugged me to his chest until I gave up trying to get a hand free to hit him. His hand was purple from where I’d bit him.

“Listen for a moment.” Vanya’s voice was distressed. “I knew you wanted me at the club. I felt it, an energy, like a hum you tried to hide.” His shoulders slumped a little. “Then I had to leave. My friends, remember?” He emphasized the word friends in a mocking tone. “When I ran into you, I, I didn’t plan… this. I just wanted to see you again. See if you... if you’d still hum for me.” He’d lifted his hands on my face. He stroked my cheeks looking me in the eyes. “In the park I felt it, strong, but you were holding back. I knew you wanted me to touch you, take you even but you didn’t want to say it. A pretty little thing like you, just aching for it, and so scared that what you want is wrong.” He took my hands in to his, holding them between us. “I had to make sure. I asked if you wanted me, but things got really intense. I know now I went too far but when I learned you liked to be hurt, liked to be dominated, I got excited and didn’t know where to stop.”

He’d unwittingly started squeezing my hands and looked down. “I knew you were sore from last night but I got so aroused. You moaning and I…” He shook his head and looked at me again. “I didn’t say I wanted to fuck you raw. I said I wanted to sleep with you.” He was quiet for a moment and asked a little embarrassed, “How much of what I’ve been saying have you understood anyway?”

I lifted his hand and pressed it against my cheek. “Some. I understood душенька,” I said with a little smile.

***

He never used me as brutally again as on our first night. That was his way to establish exclusivity, to demonstrate his ability to dominate me, to mark me as his. He kept administrating the gel and the pills during my healing and carried out daily examinations of how my healing progressed. When during these examinations the feel of my pulsing wet holes or the sound of my pained and excited moans overwhelmed him, he did not force himself on me. Instead he fucked my face. As I found his cock in my mouth particularly exiting, he fed it to me very often. Sometimes I tried to resist the urge, but every time eventually gave up to my rising excitement of being dominated. I lowered my free hands on my throbbing clit and rubbed myself with fast impatient strokes desperate for deliverance. Every time no matter how hard I masturbated, I came only while he talked dirty to me keeping his cock down my throat choking me.

As soon as I was physically up to it he resumed experimenting with my need to be forced into sexual agony, but being more careful not to overdo it. He used me, hurt me, cleaned me up, saw to my hurts and held me – just like I had fantasized he would have after he was taken from me at the club. After our first night together I never had to feel cold or hollow inside. I’d walk around every day with more or less throbbing and aching. His reminder of the love he had for me.

When our groups mingled I glimpsed him behind the others. In his late thirties he was considerably older than us twentysomethings, a fact which made him exceptional and thus special above all the others. He didn’t take part in the commotion of introductions and I moved in to break the ice. When I introduced myself in Finnish he answered curtly in Estonian, “I’m Dmitri.” At first I thought him gruff but he simply didn’t speak any Finnish. He was Russian Estonian and Artyom, his cousin, explained that Dmitri spoke Estonian but in practise his language was Russian. Of English he knew only what little he’d picked up along the way.

Dmitri nodded in appreciation when I said in Russian, “Good evening, nice to meet you.” Some of the textbook phrases from my high school studies were stuck well and good in my head. Just to seem casually friendly I had Artyom tell Dmitri that I knew some Russian, and could be able to understand a little Estonian (which has many similarities with Finnish) if he wanted to chat. I didn’t add that hearing a man speak either of those languages made me wet my panties.

Dmitri gave me a dutiful smile and a reserved little bow. He was so different from the others: manly instead of boyish, quiet, guarded, a little misplaced and something of a mystery with the language barrier and all. I was definitely interested. Granted, he wasn’t good looking, but pretty boys have never really been my thing. With effort I pretended nonchalance for I feared that figuring out my motives would scare him away. I had hoped to find someone to take home that night but I hadn’t dared hope for someone like Dmitri. I wanted the exciting stranger to use my body in every way it could be used, and I wanted him to do it hard.

Following narrow cobbled streets we explored the historical parts of downtown. Pairs were forming as we walked and I stayed close to Dmitri. In the twilight deepening to darkness the Art Nouveau buildings, little fountains, huge elm trees and high iron gates created a dense atmosphere, a surreal sense of walking through reality into the early 1900s. I hadn’t known a place like that existed but we found it merely by wandering the streets aimlessly. In those surroundings the titillating feeling Dmitri had roused in me grew more dangerous and demanding.

When a tricky shortcut led us to a railing to climb over, a bank to jump down from or a steep slope to rise the guys would help us, gentlemen as they were raised. This was a game I knew how to play and I haunted Dmitri’s steps as much as I could without him taking notice. Were an obstacle to appear, it would always ‘just happen’ to be him to assist me, and afterwards I got to reward him with a quick shy glance or a demure smile. The first time he offered his hand Dmitri asked me in Russian if he may help me and I thanked him. I counted this conversation of exactly three words a victory; I had established contact.   

Despite what I had said through Artyom, Dmitri didn’t talk much, but he didn’t seem to be much of a talker to start with. Still, encouraged by our conversation - as short as it was - I tried out more of my rusted Russian saying, “Cholodnyi vecher.” A cold evening. And Dmitri, without hesitation, took off his black leather jacket and helped me into it. I wanted to think that he lingered close to me longer than was in fact necessary but couldn’t be sure. Either way I surfed a surge of glee to have him perform that ancient gesture of caring. The jacket was still full of his warmth and I willed my body to absorb every little bit of heat that had come from inside him.

The touch of his jacket burned on my skin and to keep erotic dreams from absorbing me totally I talked. I prattled on nervously in Finnish and English about the places we walked in and the little of Helsinki’s history I knew. He smiled and nodded, understanding perhaps one word out of ten, save when I got in a word or two of Russian. Content to let me make myself look silly, he spoke little. Occasionally he uttered a few sentences which I took to mean things like, “We have one of those in Rakvere.” I had constant flashes in my mind of him fucking me. In each I was begging him to slow down ‘cause he was hurting me, but he just kept going, rougher and rougher, not understanding my words.

I got to keep Dmitri all to myself. The others - part from Artyom - didn’t know what to make of him. He was a good ten years older than the rest of us and composed rather than raucous and not obviously drunk like the other guys. Time moved slowly as I eagerly waited for things between us to develop.

After it was already established that Dmitri and I were one of the pairs that walked together, he took me aside of the group. We looked from the hillside over the lights of the city centre to the dark sea. He said solemnly, “Ilus.” That’s Estonian for beautiful. Then he looked at me and said again, “Ilus.” I didn’t know the word then, but the meaning wasn’t difficult to guess. I beamed at him and took a step closer, but with a quick after-you gesture he steered me towards the others. I was there for his taking and I couldn’t fathom why he didn’t let it happen.

After learning that he thought me beautiful his proximity sent shivers down my spine. Thus encouraged I escalated my behaviour to more seductive. When he helped me up and down various impediments I lingered, breathing excitedly to demonstrate how his closeness affected me. When I wanted his attention, instead of using his name, I touched his arm feigning insecurity of his reaction to such familiarity. Every time I looked into his eyes I gazed at him just a few seconds longer than was casual. I leaned to show him my cleavage as many times I thought I’d get away with my coy act still intact.

The girls noticed my activities and didn’t approve my choice of prey. I didn’t let their narrowmindedness mar my fun for I had managed to unsettle Dmitri as well. Not quite ready to believe I might be interested in him, he didn’t know what to make of me. I knew full well I was teasing him shamelessly, but I wanted to fuck him, so what could it hurt? I yearned for him to abandon his restraint and ravage me.

Someone noticed a beaten path that disappeared into a low gap in a hedge. We followed it and found ourselves in a park: a wide, sloping field of grassy mounds strewn with old elms and ashes here and there. I recognized the building on the edge of the park. It was the house of Sinebrychoff, the mansion of a rich 1800s brewer and we were in his park, in which, though now a public park, lingered the atmosphere of a secret garden.

Some of us sat on benches, others explored. I took Dmitri a good distance away from the others and led him behind a tree. I stood looking at his face, smiling. I wanted to touch him but considering his reticent demeanor I supposed it wouldn’t have been proper. He’d set a glow in my chest and a feverish lust in my loins, both of which I had difficulties withholding; I wanted him to grab me and kiss me ‘til my lips hurt but he only lifted his hands to his chest.

“Dima,” he said with a voice slightly hesitant.

It was the familiar form of his name, a petname for family and friends, which Artyom had used. He gave a little nod, prompting me.

“Dima,” I replied with a little smile, carefully mimicking his pronunciation.

My body ached for something tangible and such a polite gesture of fondness was a disappointment. Nonetheless I wanted to use this new name and stuttered, “тихий Дима,” quiet Dima, for it was one of the few adjectives I could remember.

My Russian must have left plenty room for interpretation, for he burst out laughing, sputtering, “прости, прости,” prosti, sorry, as he tried to get a hold of himself. It might have been due to my younger age, or perhaps he considered it appropriate as we were in nickname basis, but he’d dropped the formal and serious -te ending from his address.

Many of our company walked hand in hand when we left the park and I asked Artyom a little embarrassed why Dima hadn’t taken mine. Clearly he liked me. After a short exchange of words Artyom answered, “You haven’t given him leave.”

I saw the disbelief in my friends’ eyes as I stopped Dima to whisper, “ты можно руки.” Ty mozhno ruki. You, may, hands. I lacked the vocabulary for anything more apt and he was holding back laughter again. Yet, having received his permission, he took hold of my hand with a quick chuckle, as if laughing at the silliness of it all - a grown man holding hands with his girl.

The skin on his palm was rough and his grip strong. To touch him was wonderful and my need to be penetrated flared. I imagined his fingers fucking me, which caused my cunt to contract so hard that, squeezing my legs together, I missed a step. Dima turned to look at me curiously, as if saying he knew I hadn’t simply tripped. We resumed walking, his big hand around my tiny one, and shivers of lust rocking my body. I slipped my thumb up his sleeve, and stroked the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist in hopes of retaliating even a fraction of the turmoil he’d put me in.

***

As the night went on I noticed the silly merrymaking was losing Dima’s interest. Though I hoped I had something to do with him staying for as long as he had, I was afraid he’d leave and I’d never see him again. Trying to rid myself of gloom I jumped down a stone fence while larking with the girls. I gave no thought to the high heels I was wearing and before Dima had time to stop me I had twisted my ankle bad enough that I couldn’t walk anymore. I didn’t want to ruin the night for anyone else but Dima, who didn’t feel much at home with the group anyway, offered to take me home. Under the suspicious frowns of my backward friends we said our goodbyes to the others, and made our way towards the nearest subway station.

Sitting side by side, our journey was quiet after the raucous distraction of the group. It was awkward to be alone together, just the two of us and I kept my eyes down, stealing glances at his thighs and his hands resting on them. I was still stirred regardless of the change in the mood, and looking at him made me think of touching him, and to think that made me shiver.

We had to walk more to get from the subway station to my flat, I leaned heavily on him and sensed how strong he was. My limping was so laborious he joked he could throw me over his shoulder and carry me. After a short distance I was so spent that I had to take up on his offer, as embarrassing as it was. Chuckling once more, Dima squatted and lifted me on his shoulder.

My hips were right next to his face and my mound pressed against him. Acutely self-conscious, I realized he might smell my steaming pussy and felt unclean. The hem of my knee-length skirt hitched up as he walked, but I didn’t want to draw his attention to my nakedness by tugging it back. He hugged my legs to his chest, and rested his other hand high on my bare right thigh making my pussy throb. I knew he could see my panties and worried if he could see how wet I’d become.

The streets were empty and for the first time I thought if it was wise to be alone with him. I’ll need him to get up the stairs. Will he come in? Are we going to have sex? Will he play nice? He may have an STD. Will he use a condom? Does he have a condom? I wanted him, but I didn’t know if I could trust him. After all, his only credentials were his good manners and being a cousin to an acquaintance.

***

We arrived at my building and he carried me all the way up. He put me down on my sofa and I was half sure he’d say a polite goodnight and leave, but he didn’t. Dima sat down, took my head in his hands and started kissing me. I’d been waiting for it the whole night and whimpered, enjoying every second. He climbed on top of me, leaning me back on the pillows and started crudely moving his hand up my skirt.

“Dima wait, not so fast.” He may not have understood my words but he understood my hands grabbing his wrist, resisting.

Displeased, he put his other hand over my mouth and said in English, “I know I come up I want you.” The moments beneath the tree flashed in my head when he growled through his teeth, “No fight.”

I imagined being brought to a hospital in an ambulance, laying on the gurney all black and blue and bleeding, and chose to obey. In a few impatient moves he unbuttoned his fly, yanked my panties out of the way and thrust himself inside. Christ what have I done. Not like this, please. He was terribly hard and ached for release, the pace of his deep thrusts was merciless from the start. I was cramped up and his chest pressed against my face. He hurt me and didn’t care. I didn’t dare to scream but groaned in distress, begging him to stop. When I tried to slow him down or hinder his roughness, he pinned my hands beneath my ass. I got them free but he just put them back if I tried to protect myself. Before I had time to realize what was happening, he came in me with a grunt. He stayed on me until he caught his breath. I lay frozen still as his flaccid penis slipped out and he sat down to clear his head.

My legs were splayed and my cunt oozed his white cum. I felt disgusting, used and dirty. He hadn’t said a word or looked at me once the whole time. I wished he’d leave so I could go and wash. I’d have to go to the clinic in the morning to get a morning after pill and an STD test. Will a bug show up so soon? In TV rape victims are tested right after. Am I a rape victim? I recalled what a cocktease bitch I’d been all night. It’s my fault. Fuck I’m stupid--, please leave! My foot was stuck and as I was too ashamed to look at him or speak, yet I couldn’t get up before he did.

Finally he stood up to pull his jeans back on, and I slunk away from him hobbling straight to the shower. I let his jacket fall on the floor behind me. First he protected me with it, then raped me in it. I hugged myself under the stream, my face to the wall, burning tears running down my face. I undressed my wet clothes in a hurry, for they had clung to my skin and felt like another layer of suffocating filth. I wanted to carve my crotch off to kill the violent revulsion spreading through my body. My ankle hurt worse after the climb into the tub, and I waited anxiously for the door to my apartment slam shut. Instead I heard Dima step behind me.

My instincts demanded I turn around to spot possible danger, but I couldn’t face him. Not with his semen still burning inside me. He got in with me, without pausing to remove his clothes. I screamed in alarm but he turned me away from the wall and pressed me to his chest. Fumbling for words he apologized to me.

“извини,” izvini, sorry, he said in a hushed strained voice, his lips touching the top of my head. “I, crazy. Я не--, you, too much. I want, wrong.” I wept against his chest and he stroked my dripping hair until I calmed down. He didn’t force me to look up at him and I was grateful for that.

First keeping me close, then stepping back a little, Dima started to wash me. He massaged my shoulders and arms, making up for his previous lack of tenderness with kisses and strokes. He ran his palms on my skin round and round, whispering in Russian. I didn’t know the words but his tone was enough. He started kissing my neck and lingered there when I reacted with a shudder and a groan. I tried to back away but he wouldn’t have it. He started sliding his lips towards the back of my neck, teasing me with his tongue and my body jolted. He took my breasts in his hands, bent his head down and lifted them to his mouth, kissing and sucking.

He took the shower in his hand and bathed my breasts and stomach, slowly moving downwards. Inevitably I felt the warm stream of water on my mound and covered it with my hands. Why does he have to remind me? I’d just managed to forget for a moment how wretched I felt.

“Dima no, I don’t want to,” I repeated in English and Russian.

He kissed my hands and shushing me lifted them aside. I didn’t fight him and his hand brushed my mound and the triangle of hair on it. Fingers traced my puffy lips all the way down, and back up along my slit. First I moaned in discomfort but it changed to a gasp when his finger slid over my clit. He parted the folds of my pussy tenderly and looked up at me, reassuring me I needn’t fear. His hands were gentle and I let him touch me.

He washed my slit, nudged my thighs and, after I parted them some, moved down to my opening. I cringed but he kept saying in Russian, “It’s ok, don’t worry.”

He aimed the stream on me, rubbing around the little hole washing away his cum and my juices. I breathed heavily, whimpering. One finger ventured inside me just a centimetre or two and circled, rubbing the walls of my pussy. As I didn’t protest Dima went deeper until his whole finger was in. I let out a steady flow of ecstatic noises as he moved in and out, flooding my pussy with water, rinsing me clean.

I wanted him where I could touch him and tugged on his shirt. He made me yip by stroking my clit teasingly with his nose before he stood up. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled ‘til he bent down to kiss me. It felt good again, so good it made me glow. His face was hard-featured but his lips were the softest in the world when he wanted them to be. I’d forgotten the wrong he did me a moment ago, for now he was doing that which I’d waited him to do since hello.

He was ridiculous standing there in his wet clothes and I started to unbutton his shirt. He smiled at my prolonged efforts with the tiny buttons and the soaked cloth. Finally I got it off him and went on to remove his jeans and underwear. When I had him naked, I pressed myself against him and let my soaped hands explore.

He didn’t look fit but I knew he was strong. His hands were hardened by work and self-consciously he started to pull them away. I pressed one on my cheek and kissed the palm and every finger of the other. After kissing I sucked on each, playing with my tongue, and was rewarded with a series of encouraging groans.

I was apprehensive to look at his penis but curiosity won and, with mixed feelings of desire and disgust, I touched it gingerly. Under the stream of water I jerked him a few times, and pulling back his foreskin I traced the length of him with a finger and kissed the tip of his cock. I slid my lips to engulf the head and sucked him deeper, but to my surprise Dima beckoned me back up. He kissed me gently and we got out of the shower wrapped in fresh towels.

I went to get us something to drink and left him in my bedroom. I stood a while in the kitchen rummaging my confused brain for an answer to how I should relate to him. When I returned with the glasses, Dima was sitting on the bed.

“Horny little girl,” he smirked.

I had been single a long time, and dreaming of better days, I had bought all kinds of sex toys. The box was beside Dima. I guess he’d guessed I’d have a stash and looked for it. It wasn’t hard to find for unimaginatively I stored it under my bed – close by if I needed some relief. He shook his head slowly admiring the selection and made tsk tsk noises. Shit, he thinks I’ve used all of that.

Dima beckoned and when I came close he grabbed me and threw me harshly on the bed. Juice and water spilled everywhere. Ignoring the mess he got on top of me and pinned my hands down by my head. There was a hunger in him that made my cunt twitch. He was heavy and, looming over me like that, outrageously sexy. I struggled a little, an instinctive reaction, but my heart wasn’t in it. There was no point, he’d made me want him again. Besides, I loved to be pinned down, to be all helpless and vulnerable.

My pathetic wriggling amused him. With a cocky grin he pressed his crotch against me, massaging my pussy. My exhales came out as lusty whines but as he held me down his face changed and I didn’t like what it changed into. His eyes alone were enough to scare me.

“Dima?” I asked, uttering a short insecure laughter while trying to make a casual what’s-going-on face.

Seeing it for the first time, I discovered that his evil grin sat far more naturally on his features than his friendly smile had. He let go of my hands and used his arms to restrain my upper body. He kissed me roughly, my lips smashed between my teeth and his lips. He was hurting me and I tried to yell at him but nothing got past his violent kisses. He even bit my lips, not teasingly like a lover but hard. I couldn’t turn my head for his heavy palm on my forehead was holding me still. His weight was crushing me and I beat him with my fists anywhere I could reach but he was unmoved. It was hard to breath and more so with him covering my mouth with his.

I fought then. It wasn’t a game and I was scared. He grabbed my hair, bent my head back and growled in my ear, “No fight, baby. Good girl or I hurt you.”

I subdued my struggles but couldn’t stop them entirely. I didn’t beat him anymore but he sniggered as I tried to push him off me. He ground his swelling cock against my pussy. So, this is what turns him on, I thought ruefully, not a willing blowjob but forcing himself on me. His other hand reached down between us, and after yanking the towel aside he found my naked pussy. He fingered me roughly and I screamed in rage and revulsion.

While tears welled in my eyes he started forcing himself between my legs. Not again. Sensing my resistance, he pulled my hair and snarled his no-fight command again. I didn’t dare to defy him and gingerly let him spread my legs.

“Spread your pussy for me,” he commanded.

I couldn’t believe he’d make me do that, but his eyes terrified me and I did as I was told – with both hands. I’d never felt so humiliated, not even when his cum throbbed in my vagina after the first rape, and I squeezed my eyes shut moaning, “No, no, no,” in a barely audible whisper, waiting to be raped.

He grinned and whispered, “Now say please.” I felt like throwing up but he yanked my hair and shouted, “Look at me!” He was a monster, a madman and I was scared to death and whimpered his chosen word.

He leaned closer, toying with me. “Say it like you mean it.”

Breaking into sobs I wailed, “Please,” and the moment I said the word, he thrust inside me with a savage growl and I cried out in dismay.

Suddenly Dima spoke plenty of English. There was no grammar to speak of but he mastered an extensive porn film vocabulary. He fucked me hard, slamming into me mercilessly, making me groan in pain each time he speared me. Both of his hands were on the top of my head so my body couldn’t rock away from him and escape his vicious stabs. When he hit bottom he paused to stretch me and whispered, “Good girl,” while gently stroking my forehead with his thumb.

I tried to push him away and hit him, desperate to stop the agony of being raped. “Take cock baby or I flip you over and have your ass,” he barked at me and I did as I was told. Again and again he forced himself in me telling me how he’d fuck me until I couldn’t stand up. Every time I tried to close my eyes he slapped me to make clear there was no drifting away from him.

When the first shock had passed and I lay under him more compliant and adjusted to his ruthless fucking, he bent my legs up for better access. He kept hold of my shoulders and pulled me on his cock, forcing his way even deeper. It took me into new heights of pain and I trashed and screamed, thinking he would tear the bottom of my vagina. When I got too loud, he bit my neck until I understood to keep it down. When I did, there was the good-girl routine again and my cunt tingled and flooded for him. He’d said it so often there was a continuous squishing sound as his cock churned in my pussy. What’s happening to me, my mind echoed in self-disgust.

He left me no room to react, and with eyes full of tears I begged him, “Stop, you’re hurting me. Dima no more, please.”

When I blinked, I saw another Dima wrapping me in his coat, but this one fucked me so hard my buttocks made a sharp smacking sound hitting against his pelvis. My hands went looking for anything to grab on to but there was no respite to brace myself for his pace was brutal. As he kept me still by the shoulders, I had no chance to adjust my hips to slow him down even a little or lessen the pain some. All I could do was to give myself to him and hope it would be over soon.

It was horrible but I was getting turned on by him being totally in charge. Far from cumming he took his time abusing me, and the sharp pangs of his thrusts melted into the constant throbbing pain in my flesh. He mixed the tenderness of praising his good little girl with the cruel usage of my inflamed cunt and I moaned and jerked in arousal as my juices ran down my crack to make a wet stain on the sheet.

Suddenly the thrusts ceased and he stopped still inside me. I was relieved to have a break from the rough fucking and gasped for air. I let my body go limp and lay inert under him, recovering. His shaft pulsed inside me, acutely sharpening my awareness of my pelvic area. Without competing sensations the feel of fullness in my pussy became overwhelming. I grew restless and shocked myself by wishing Dima would fuck me more. He stayed unmoving for so long that my need grew too compelling and I started moving my body on his cock, rocking up and down.

“Please don’t stop,” I mumbled and he filled me slowly and gently and I could sense the shape and width of him. Dima stroked my hair and kissed me - passionate, erotic kisses that made my cunt squeeze him tight. He kept shushing me though I made little noise and that continued controlling made me shiver in excitement.

Dima’s lips brushed all over my shoulders, chest and neck while he made love to me. He kissed gently and bit harshly and I arched into him to beg for more. His hands teased my body while his cock was stroking my insides. My clit ached to be touched and every part of me craved for the shudders that would bring release.

“Dima, please, may I?” I whispered timidly in Russian and glided my hands apprehensively down towards my crotch. He grinned triumphantly and straightened himself so I could reach to degrade myself in his eyes from an innocent to a wanton.

Dima was captivated. He stared at my nimbly shifting fingers licking his lips and huffing profanities in Russian. Contractions had started deep inside me the second my fingers touched my clit and they grew stronger with Dima’s precise movements. I was rapidly gravitating towards an orgasm when Dima leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Scream for me baby, be my little slut.”

That did it. My stomach muscles cramped and, body freezing rigid, I wailed a long incoherent scream. My pussy gripped his cock in a series of convulsions that went on long after I had slumped back on the bed, exhausted and blurry.

Dima kept moving in my pussy through my orgastic spasms. When I recovered a little I gestured him to pin my hands down again and he flashed me a wicked smile. I wanted him to take me like that, hazy and fragile. He pulled my hands over my head and the backs of my hands dug into the mattress. When he pushed into me I tried to push him out, imagining he was a rapist I wanted out of me. Dima immediately let out a loud spontaneous grunt and, his unwavering restraint cracking for a second, he forgot his steady pace and drove wildly into me with his cock. I wanted to push when he came in and squeeze when he pulled out, but his pace was so erratic I couldn’t keep up with his rhythm.

I decided on pushing out all the time as that got more noise out of him. I even went as far as to struggle against him, to which his cock twitched. I kicked, wriggled away from his cock, squeezed my thighs together and angled my hips to block him from shoving his meat inside me. I fought so fiercely his cock kept slipping out and he had to wrestle me to get back in. We were both worked up, feral, grunting and growling in anger. He let go of my hands and grabbed my hips preventing my evasions. He forced his spear in me so brutally I couldn’t hold back a shocked high-pitched shriek.

“Shut up!” he shouted and slapped me hard in the face. Breaking into sobs I tried to push him away, but he was lost in his own pleasure and fucked me viciously, punishing my bruised insides.

He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. “You like my cock inside you?” He leaned to lick my neck like a beast and growled, “Get used to it. You’re mine.”

With his primitive words a hot wind engulfed me and my used wet pussy tightened on him. “Yes,” I admitted and abandoned all resistance. His pace quickened, his rhythm broke and he started roaring. Thrusting feverishly, lowering his roar into a series of loud grunts he pumped his load deep in my cunt, shaking all over.

For a while he stayed still until gingerly, groaning like a man sliding a knife out of his flesh, he slipped his limp penis out of me. Gasping for breath, Dima collapsed on the bed beside where I lay still and sated, looking at the ceiling but not really seeing anything. He spread his arm and beckoned me to snuggle. Stroking my damp hair with his big rough palm he whistled quietly and sighed in Russian, “Baby, you’re something.”

That something was twisted and I couldn’t shake the shame and guilt, but at the time they were outweighed by euphoria. His semen seeped out of me and this time I didn’t resent it; he’d marked me with his seed and I loved it.

Dima fell asleep right away but I lay awake for a while reliving the night’s events. He smelled so sexy. Part of it was aftershave and such but the rest of it - his own scent, his sweat - was intoxicating. I lay my head to rest on his upper arm where I could inhale him. Pheromones, it just has to be, I tried to explain my behaviour to myself, sinking into a deep dreamless sleep.

***

Saturday

I woke up before Dima and tiptoed into the shower, it was already afternoon. I washed off the sweat and the stickiness between my legs though the water stung the numerous abrasions and little tears I had inside and on my pussy. It wasn’t an easy choice between staying dirty and enduring the burn on my tender flesh. Thinking of last night made me feel uncomfortable and confused. In the light of day the world was different. My body ached all over with muscles sore from the struggling. My thighs, arms and shoulders had bruises on them, bite marks specked my neck, chest and breasts, even my cheek hurt when I opened my mouth to brush my teeth. Luckily my face wasn’t bruised or swollen, but only because Dima hadn’t hit me in earnest.

He’d raped me twice. He’d made me terrified of himself and hurt me until I screamed. He’d even struck me and yet I had come for him. Will it be different for him too now the night’s over, I wondered, will he regret? I realized I didn’t want him to go away and thus was convinced I was loosing my mind. Hurt, fear and what might have constituted as rape lost 6-0 to the memory of him in the Art Nouveau maze, to the ecstasy I’d experienced and most of all to the memory of him saying I was his.

Dima wasn’t in the bed when I got out of the bathroom, I was crestfallen. He’s left. A hand clamped on my mouth from behind. I instinctively fought to get free, but when I was thumped my back against the wall I saw Dima, and the icicle in my heart melted away. He pressed his whole body against me and leaned to nuzzle my neck, overloading my sensory cells. My body purred but I gritted my teeth determined to resist him.

“Что ты хочешь?” Chto ti hochesh? What do you want? I asked trying to sound unaffected. The nerve endings on my skin were perked up, expectant. He started kissing and biting gently. I trembled, gasping and moaning in turn. I was angry at myself for not being able to control my body.

“You want me to take you?” He’s voice was hoarse and sexy, his language soft and enthralling and the words pierced me as a gush of heat. “You want me to hurt you?” His hands removed my towel and stroked my back. I wriggled feebly. My hands were free but I didn’t stop him. “You want me inside you?” His lips brushed against my collarbone. I wailed angrily in fear I’d give in to him soon for my head swam, overthrown by his scent.

He licked the skin behind my ear murmuring, “You’re not fooling anyone, baby. What do you want?” He kissed my neck a few more times teasing with his tongue, before he stopped altogether. He lifted his mouth to my ear and whispered, “Tell me.”

My skin smouldered, shivering to be touched again. “Don’t stop,” I squealed surrendering.

He made one teasing stroke with the tip of his nose. “Stop what?”

I wanted him, I wanted all of him, but couldn’t say it. I couldn’t understand any of what happened with Dima. Although his cruellest streaks frightened me, he made me feel like I had always wanted to; he put me in danger and he made me safe.

He lifted me up, my legs around his waist and my back against the wall. He had his boxers on, but he teased me, pressing his crotch on my naked pussy like he was fucking me against the wall. My body trembled and a tide of wetness rose inside me. Reluctantly I dragged myself out from under his spell; we were supposed to meet the others in an hour.

I used my massive Russian vocabulary, “Dima, I want, but the sea, and friend.”

He grunted looking truly disheartened and stepped away from the wall. He slid me back on the floor and turned away in search of his clothes. A single word of salvation drifted from my memory.

“после?” I asked timidly. Posle, after. For a moment he looked baffled, then he connected the dots and, with a wide smile, gave me a passionate kiss. Perhaps I hadn’t been the only one to fear the other would regret.

The group had made plans the previous night to meet on Puotila beach in one of the eastern suburbs. It was the most convenient swimming place since most of us lived in that part of the city. Dima and I walked there through a patch of forest. There were no others on the track and he pulled me roughly to him to be teased with kisses and strokes. He pinned me against a tree trunk and picked me up like he had in my apartment, the coarse bark chafing my back. A thought of spiders and bugs crawling on me crossed my mind, but when he leaned on me, the bulge of his penis digging into my crotch, all I had left in my mind was delirium.

“What is it that you do to me?” I moaned. I was worried about the way my body overruled my mind when ever Dima was involved. He answered by running his nose down the side of my head, shushing me. His strong arms engulfed me and I quit resisting the warm and safe feeling of letting go; in a daze I yielded myself completely under his power.

Everyone knew of course that we had left together, but Artyom, with whom Dima was staying during his visit, was the only one to know Dima had spent the night with me. When we appeared to our rendevouz together, Dima in the same and still somewhat damp clothes he wore the previous night, we got dirty knowing grins from all of them. It would have been embarrassing enough if we’d just had an ordinary one night stand, but we had so much more to be uneasy for when our friends teased us: the rapes, the abuse, the mind games.

For young people they were surprisingly old fashioned about our age difference, my friends especially, but the sun cast beautifully coloured light, dandelion fluff danced in the air and we spent a few dreamlike hours with them. I took a swim wearing a large t-shirt, not wanting to reveal the bruises and bite marks on my body. The cool saltwater soothed the ache between my legs and the soreness of my muscles. Before leaving home I’d applied concealer on the bruises the shirt didn’t hide. My bitten neck was noticed despite my efforts and it increased the smirking.

Swimming and sweating, I couldn’t help some of the make up wearing off. Minttu eyed curiously at my legs but I stared her down. I could only hope she’d keep her observations to herself. Dima was old school and not much for public displays of attention, thus we were the first to take our leave, bodies buzzing to touch freely again. Hiding his handiwork and the risk of it being exposed had been thrilling for both of us.

We made a detour to Artyom’s flat to fetch Dima some clothes and such. On the way home I took us by a pharmacy. I was a little embarrassed and couldn’t remember what medicine was in Russian.

“Dima, I don’t want, a child,” I managed, “do you understand?”

He smiled looking relieved, and quickly explained something in a hushed tone, gesturing downwards. He saw from my expression that I understood none of it.

“No child,” he said in English, but I wasn’t convinced and used my single Estonian sentence.

“Räägi Eesti.” Speak Estonian.

The words ‘I can’t have children’ were the same in Estonian as in Finnish and I joined Dima in the club of the relieved. It didn’t affect the risk of STDs of course, but I was too happy to worry about that.

Returning to my apartment, we were suddenly a bit shy to be there and just the two of us again. Especially now the others knew we were off somewhere having sex. I seriously hoped that was all they knew and Minttu hadn’t told anyone about the bruises.

After dinner I took a shower to wash the sand off. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Dima grabbed me from behind and gagged me before I had time to react. My shout for him to leave me alone, that I was too hurt for more sex, never got out. I was apprehensive but didn’t know if there was a reason to be truly scared. After all, he’d been so sweet all day.

He pulled a dark pillowcase over my head and growled in my ear, “All mine baby girl, all mine now.”

I loved it when he talked to me like he owned me, but his voice was full of threat and my body went cold. He manhandled me to kneel on the bed and tied my hands to the bedposts. I fought but was no match for him. To be tied up was venom for it left me more exposed than I was comfortable with, especially when he had gagged and hooded me and I had no way to communicate with him.

He dragged me ‘til my hands were stretched taut and arranged me to his liking, hips thrust up and upper body weight hanging on my splayed arms. He was up in my dry cunt before I had time to realize what was happening. The strokes dragged the linings of my pussy and the friction chafed and burned the torn walls of my vagina. He used as much force and violence ramming into my pussy as he could muster. I growled  through my nose every time he slammed his cock in. They might have been screams to start with, but I could hardly get a sound past the gag.

He kept brakes, pulled out and let me calm down. When the hurt had eased he started anew. The pauses made sure the pain was always fresh - he didn’t want me numb. Just as my cunt was starting to lubricate to ease my suffering, his pace got slower. His hand grazed my buttock and I felt a finger circling my asshole. Oh god, please not that. I had known this was just a question of time, and hell, I had wanted him to fuck my ass, but not like this. In this mood he’d tear me up just for the fun of it, and my sphincter might never completely heal. My eyes teared up in the darkness of the hood. It was horrible not to see, not to know. I’d never been claustrophobic but panic was rising in me; I was buried alive and I’d never get out again, I’d spend the rest of my life trapped and being raped. I sobbed as I felt cold lube on my anus and the rigid tip of a small dildo going in. I kept sobbing, but for a moment it was from relief for he’d spared me from the crippling pain of slamming right in.

Though appalled and mortified by myself, I couldn’t help enjoying his ministrations. Dima held still in my cunt, filling me but not hurting me and in my ass the little dildo moved back and forth. Longing to be filled after his teasing, I wished he’d put his cock in my ass already. Too late I realized I was fucking back.

“My lusty little slut,” he praised and put the slick lubed head of his cock on my hole. I didn’t flinch and he chortled, “That’s a good girl, taking it up the ass like a whore.” I shuddered in heat, his words were poison but I wanted to drown in it.

Dima put some pressure on my anus and I pressed against him until I felt the tip ease in. Then, gasping, I moved away to ease the pressure when he pushed the rest of the knob in. He stopped there, giving me time to squiggle my hips and adjust. I loved the mixed feeling of intimacy and violation when my ring of muscle squeezed the stretching shaft, eager to suck more of it in.

Dima poured lube on his cock and started to push in. I thrust back easing him deeper. “Good girl,” he praised. An instantaneous surge of giddy goodness gripped me and my pussy and ass spasmed. The reaction I had to those words time and again was totally ridiculous, but I was in no state to figure it out now.

He pulled out a bit, poured more lube and pushed back in. I moved to meet him until my bonds stopped me. As he started pulling out again I heard myself let out a little disappointed mewing sound. Dima’s finger went to my pussy hole and slid right in to the flowing wetness I’d produced.

“If you had told me how much you like a cock up your bottom, I’d have taken care of my little slut before.”

Given the context I had no problems understanding his Russian. He pulled out entirely, leaving the tip of his cock touching my bud. After another drizzle of lube he pushed back in, stopping for a while to move only the head in and out through my tight sphincter. I moaned in pleasure and tried to fuck back and get more of him in. He shushed me and I forced myself to stay still while he teased me.

Finally he started the long strokes I’d been waiting for. He fucked my ass slowly, burrowing deeper with every thrust. It was pure ecstasy for is slow pace let me enjoy every sensation and I wished my hands were free so I could rub my clit. He kept putting on more lube and talked dirty to me when ever he wanted my pelvic muscles to spasm around him. His finger went to my pussy again. ”Girl, you’re dirty. Does my little anal slut need something in here too?” My cheeks burned with shame and I couldn’t speak but yes, I damn well did. My cunt was raw, yet I desperately wanted to be filled.

I felt the cool touch of silicone on my pussy lips and a dildo, thicker this time, glided effortlessly along my wetness, stinging the sore flesh. Dima made a few strokes in and out. “I know what you need baby.” He’d found my inflatable dildo and pumped it rapidly until he heard me moan, pumped a little more and let go of it. He started to fuck my ass again and I was exalted. Nothing hurt too bad but I was stretched to the most satisfying fullness I ever knew. My clit throbbed ardently and I ached to cum.

Dima went on inflating the dildo. My cunt stretched and he praised the tightness of my ass. This really made me realize his age for he already had and seemingly still could fuck me for forever. He had enough self discipline to hold back when he was getting too close. I hoped he would cum soon though, for I longed for a grand finale. Besides, if he came he’d probably let my hands free and I could masturbate myself into the violent orgasm my body so vehemently demanded.

The air Dima pumped in between his slow strokes went where my pussy yielded space to expand and the dildo ballooned behind my pelvic opening.  It was getting very uncomfortable but being at his mercy was also deeply gratifying. I hoped he would fuck me harder but he just pumped more air in the dildo, let some out and pumped again. The dull uncompromising pain swallowed my whole abdomen and pelvis and tears ran down my strained face under the hood. Still, I didn’t resist for I wanted to be good.

Finally he went too far with the pump and my resolve crumbled under the torture, I started to flinch and buck away. He mumbled his little darling to be still and take it like a good girl. I strived to please my Dima, but the next inflations were too much and I began to yell and struggle. Disappointed, he pulled out of my ass and the pressure eased some. He promptly compensated for it with four inflations in a rapid succession. I thrashed in my ropes, screaming in shock. He patted my butt, tugged on the dildo to check it sat snug and got off the bed.

I don’t know how long I was a prisoner inside my dark hood. I heard his footsteps around the flat. I heard the TV, the coffee maker and the balcony door. My arms and wrists were aching from supporting my weight. Frequently he returned to stand by the bed and the dildo inside me swelled and I screamed for him, having already been stretched as far as my cunt could go. Yet I had no way to flee the pain and panted like a mother giving birth while Dima ran his palm over the arcs and hollows of my naked quivering body. Whining weakly I pleaded, but he took no notice and when he walked away I sobbed.

The pain was too cruel to bear, but it was the pillowcase that threatened to undo me. It seemed to shrink every passing second and strangle me. The air I sucked through the tightly woven threads was warm and stuffy and each labored inhalation took me closer to the deep end of panic.

When I finally felt his weight on the mattress I was relieved. Being hurt by him was terrifying but it was better than being tied up alone in the dark. Dima tugged on the dildo and I yelped. Muttering something I couldn’t hear, he kneeled between my legs and rested the tip of his penis on my asshole. This time Dima wasn’t gentle. Trusting I was still stretched and supple, he gave me no warning and shoved the whole length of his cock in me on the first savage plunge. He took no pity on my asshole and I shrieked in pain as my ring of muscle was stretched so violently. What noise got through my gag wasn’t loud enough to alarm the neighbours and he let me howl all I wanted.

“Scream baby, show daddy how it hurts,” he urged.

Dima twisted his cock to penetrate me from different angles. I tried to get away when he grabbed my waist pulling me on his cock, but his legs held mine pinned. He forced himself a space where there was none left and my every exhale was a scream. His balls slapped against the handle of the dildo as his thighs smacked my butt hard enough to smart. There was no other sensory input to my brain than the pain in my sex organs, and the need to flee from it.

Any lube that had been left in my back passage had worn out and he was practically fucking me raw.  I sobbed between my howls while he petted my ass and caressed my red and swollen pussy lips, telling me how good a fuck I was. His arms were around my shoulders to keep me from bucking away from his cock. I started kicking with all my strength, the pain, the ties, the hood - panic overwhelmed me and I was suffocating.

My fighting excited him and he started slamming against me without a rhythm, without thrusts even, just a blur of spearlike stabs in my anal tract. It lasted forever and my belly started to cramp with such violent usage of my rectum. I cramped and he tried to hold me still. Dima raped me impatiently, balls aching to cum, making the bulged dildo move painfully in my agonized pussy. At last he bellowed and filled my ass with cum, milking himself with my body, taking his time, getting every drop out.

He was totally spent and crashed on the bed. Mercifully, he reached to loosen my restraints and I collapsed next to him. I curled up into a ball, the dildo still in me, the gag in my mouth and loops still around my wrists. I was too groggy to even claw the hood off. I wanted nothing; to be nothing, to feel nothing.

“Next time,” he muttered short of breath, “I want to see you stay still without the ties.”

When I woke up it was twilight outside and the pain had dulled a little. Dima spooned against my back, an arm protectively around me, the other stretched on the pillow above my head. The ropes, the hood and the gag were gone. The dildo inside me had been deflated and slid out. He hadn’t showered, I could smell his sweat and the scent was warm and bewitching. I nestled closer to his bare skin and hugged the arm in front of me. I didn’t understand my emotions, moreover, I didn’t understand why I had any. I liked it when he was rough, but when he got carried away it was insanity. He hadn’t stopped when I begged him to, when it wasn’t fun anymore or kinky or exciting. Yet afterwards he’d be the gentlest and kindest man, taking care of me like I was the most fragile thing in the world. 

I was never one to surrender to bullying or abuse, but what he did - what we did - didn’t fall into any category I knew. Due to our language barrier I couldn’t ask him what the hell was this all about, but the world with him was tempting in its simplicity: If I let him be the only scary thing in my mind, he’d also be a hero who would have the power to keep away all that was scary in the world outside. He was a drug I couldn’t stop wanting though I knew it was bad for me. I was still chiding myself of lunacy when I started kissing his rough fingertips to wake him up.

***

Again we existed in a romantic dream state, like that at the beach. While I cleaned myself up in the bathroom, he’d rummaged in my kitchen and made us some hot chocolate. I dragged a heap of blankets out to the balcony chairs where we sat down to enjoy the hot sweet drink. We asked questions about each others’ lives and could even understand much of the answers drifting back and forth as a mixture of four languages and silly hand gestures. It couldn’t be helped that our communication was clumsy, but when I proposed I fetch a dictionary Dima stopped me saying it was so much more fun our way. He breathed on the window and showed me how to write his whole name. Carefully he weighed the syllables of my name until he came up with a Russian pet name for me and I was exalted to have a name that was his alone. Gradually he abandoned the support of Estonian and English, deciding I understood him well enough.

His age made just sitting there together exciting. Despite me being of age, that intimacy with him felt like something I wasn’t supposed to do and did anyway, something that should be a secret, but of which our friends knew. Giving myself to him was against everything that was expected of me, but I wanted Dima to never stop touching me. I pulled him to me and his slow, soft kisses drew whines of pleasure from me and my strength and will melted away.

He got up and spread his blankets on the concrete floor. Taking me by the hand he lead me to sit and lay down on them, a cushion under my head. He draped my upper body back in the warmth of blankets and started sliding the hem of my ankle-length nightgown up. “Dima, no, please, not now, hurting.” In one smooth movement he leaned over me and dragged the garment up to my waist. He looked into my eyes, promising he wouldn’t hurt me and kissed my forehead. That gesture has always been the most loving I know and I relaxed and and let him, and the cool night air, between my thighs.

His nose stroke up my slit and I whispered hastily, “Dima, I need to shower and the neighbours can--”

He tilted his head back to look at me. “Shh, let me take care of you.”

His familiar husky voice was so reassuring that I lay back down. I’ve always been uncomfortable having someone down there, smelling and tasting me so I couldn‘t help squirming and trying to move away.

“Dima, don’t…”

“Shh,” he hissed and lay a heavy hand on my twitching leg and I settled.

I flinched when the tip of his tongue first touched my lips. I couldn’t shake the thought of how I would taste and fought the urge to push his head away. His finger traveled down my slit to my pussy hole. While I winced he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”

He dipped his finger in the wetness already pooling outside my hole and slid the finger up to my clit spreading my juices, repeating until my clit was slippery and wet. He started rubbing it deftly, his rough skin creating a pleasant friction. I couldn’t hold my moans and Dima shushed me again, not threateningly but adamantly. He bent down to kiss my clit and I tensed my whole body trying to stay quiet and submit to the touch.

His hands parted my pussy lips and his tongue begun to wander. I found it was easier to go with the flow with Dima, who’d do exactly what he wanted to do, no matter how I felt about it. Since he ignored my protestations, I was able to let go of them, and there in the darkness, kissing and nibbling, he made me enjoy what I normally detested. Each time he ran his tongue over my clit I whined and moaned, trying to keep it down. When ever I succeeded stifling myself, he’d tell me what a good girl I was.

When I was wriggling under him, my hips bucking, he couldn’t resist slipping a finger up my wet pussy. I was about to chide him about it, but he shushed me down. “You’re so wet it won’t hurt. Relax.”

It felt uncomfortable and smarted a little when he started to fuck me with it, but I didn’t actually hurt. Any pain there might have been got lost in the waves of heat my clit was spilling over me, while Dima kept his tongue on my nub, massaging and swirling. He put in another finger and immediately after a third and the fingers chafed what the dildo had left sore. The sensations undermined my resolution to be silent and I moaned his name under my breath.

I felt his fingers digging into my flesh. “Ready?” he whispered and dragged his nails along my bruised cunt walls. I whinnied and arched in pain but knew better than to ask him to take his fingers out. He looked up and said softly, “Shut up when I hurt you.” I pinched my larynx ‘til nothing but feeble grunts got out and he smiled, pleased at how hard I struggled to obey him. “Good girl,” he whispered stroking my thigh and I felt again the disturbing satisfaction for earning that particular praise.

I was sweating and ripe to collapse into an orgasm. Dima didn’t want to get physical and force my silence, instead he wanted to enjoy making me comply with words alone. He abandoned the licking and started sucking my clit. My abdominal muscles started cramping the higher to my climax I ascended. Again and again I jolted up and thumped back down on my cushion, gasping, “Dima, help me, I can’t, quiet, Dima, I’m coming, I’m--” He couldn’t quite reach to put his hand over my mouth but I grasped his wrist and sucked his extended fingers into my mouth.

My body went rigid and started to shake. My vision blackened and cold shivers covered my arms and back. I clamped my mouth on Dima’s fingers, determined not to let any sound escape - for Pete’s sake we were out on the balcony of a suburb tower block. My scream of ecstasy would echo from the other buildings and bring everyone to their balconies. So, with his fingers in my mouth, hips bucking, I held my breath.

He kept to a regular rhythm and started humming against my clit. That buzzing was the last drop and I convulsed and cramped, thrashing on the blankets. I pressed my thighs together to protect my oversensitive clit from any further stimulation and his head got caught, but he pulled himself free to watch the results of his efforts. I pounded my head in the cushion and my heels on the concrete floor. My hips gyrated randomly and my grip on his wrist must have been painful.

The electricity-like currents tore in me for some seconds, but in my head those moments elongated. Finally my muscles relaxed and I let my limbs fall limp on the blankets. I opened my mouth to breathe and freed his hand; the senses gripping electrocution feeling had let go. What was left was the lull of total emptiness, mindlessness, weightlessness and I lay on my balcony, writhing faintly and giggling like an idiot. Dima lay down beside me and observed in fascination how I was immersed in the tidal wave of tiny sparks he could never see.

***

Seeing me cum so hard had left his mind in a stir. We carried the blankets and covers back in and I fell on my bed absolutely exhausted. I’d never had this much physical activity within 24 hours and my body was done for. I was in urgent need of sleep, but Dima approached the bed and I could tell that something was different and I wasn’t going to like it.

His voice emotionless, he told me to turn on my stomach. I sat up to face him and though I tried to sound neutral my words came out pissed. “Dima, I want to sleep. I don’t want any more. Understand? This isn’t funny. I need sleep.” He adopted a collected air and came closer. He took hold of my chin and repeated his order with the same cold tone but eyes blazing. I wasn’t up for any games and snapped at him, “Hey, I said I don’t want to. I’m going to sleep.” I shoved at his hand, “Understand?”

I’d angered him and he grabbed me by the hair and leaned his face to almost touch me. “It’s your choice. Don’t force me to tie you up baby. You want me to use the hood again?” All defiance went out of me and avoiding his eyes I shook my head. This was a drastic change to the Dima on the balcony, the man that had enveloped me in soft touches. “Now sweetie, we don’t want to wake up your neighbours.” He put a pair of scrunched-up panties against my lips and I – already resigned to defeat – listlessly took the bundle in my mouth like a horse accepting a bit. He had a piece of string ready and he tied it around my head to secure the gag in place. “Good girl, now get on your hands and knees.” I didn’t understand this in Russian, but he arranged my body on all fours, and I let him.

His heavy palm rested on the back of my head. He nudged gently and I bent my arms and lowered my head to rest on them. He took hold of my wrists and tugged, and I yielded and let him pull my arms straight back until my hands were beside my knees. My hips were thrust up and my weight resting uncomfortably on my shoulders. My cheek was pressed hard on the mattress and my neck was strained.

“Please don’t be rough, I’m so hurt,” I whimpered through the fabric filling my mouth.  He nudged my thighs wanting me to spread them. I spread a little and even more of my weight shifted on my shoulders to bear. It was difficult to acknowledge that it was Dima and me there on the bed. It was us on the balcony too, but we’d stepped through the mirror again and become the dark twisted versions of ourselves.

I had bought the dildo from internet knowing it was large. When it arrived I was stunned to see the true size of it. It was as thick as my forearm and, with his vicious streak in control, Dima chose it. He applied pressure on it relentlessly, until my bruised pussy stretched to accommodate the object. I groaned loudly to my gag when he forced it in. I was terribly hurt after his rough fucking on the night before and even more so after the torture with the inflatable dildo. When the monster stopped at my cervix and would go no further, Dima told me to push it out. I shook my head and pleaded, but it was futile when he was like that. I was so alone. I couldn’t get through to him and his cruelty brought tears into my eyes. Before when he’d hurt me he’d at least done so with passion, making it personal and intimate. Now he treated me like he had on the sofa: detached, uncaring, like I was nothing and no-one.

Moaning in pain I did as I was told and pushed; slimy and with traces of blood the dildo lunged out of me. When the end of it rested on his palm, he let out an ominous shush and rammed the thing back in punching me in the gut with it. I screamed out in pain and shock until the punch took my voice.

Dima loved the obscene view of the monster cock spreading me and continued fucking me with it, coaxing and commanding. “Here it comes. Be still. Don’t tense up on me. Take it like a good girl. There, I know you like it. And out with it now, push, harder, good girl.” He made throaty sounds of lust driving it through the narrow gap between my pelvic bones. Each time the process to birth the thing was difficult and painful, for the dildo stretched my pussy and muscles so tight I had no room to squeeze inwards. From time to time he pushed back when I pushed out, testing the strength of my pelvic muscles and prolonging my agony. He was impressed with what my vagina, even after all he’d done before, still could endure.

When I was no longer distressed enough for his taste, he put another dildo on my asshole. I mumbled through my gag for him to stop, and tried to get away but my position didn’t allow it for he’d pinned my arms and legs beneath him. “Don’t make a fuss. You’ve been stretched well and good earlier. Take it, take it all now.”

I tried to wrench myself free and howled, ”No, no, no,” but he didn’t care I really meant it. He had smeared the dildo in my juices and shoved it through my tight ring of muscle without mercy. In it went, deep up my ass without lube, chafing and burning, dragging the membranes as it went.

Dima alternated between plunging the dildos in simultaneously and in turns. Stuffed as I was I couldn’t tell my cunt from my rectum. There was just one torn hole and one huge nightmare of an object grinding in it. As the giant dildo in my cunt and the other up my butt met inside me and poked my abdomen, the pain was like menstrual cramps tenfold. Beads of sweat glistened on my skin as I screamed. The little amount of pussy juice on the dildo in my ass had worn out fast and he’d since been tearing fresh cuts and nicks in my already raw passage.

He was speeding up and getting even rougher and I wriggled my hips to get my holes into angles which would help to dull the pangs of pain. Dima laughed and let me do it knowing it had little effect on what he afflicted me with. He raped me with the plastic cocks so violently that nothing I did mattered. All I had left was crying and screaming, though they weren’t distinct screams, more like a constant ragged howling that lived in rhythm with my breathing.

I was drained, finished, dead and had a terrible thirst. I slumped down, my shoulders no longer able to hold my weight. I felt gross, a repulsive heap on the bed with dirty dildos sticking out. When Dima started wrenching me up I used my last strength trying to escape him. I scratched and kicked him as he dragged me to the bathroom. I tried to claw the gag off and scream to him that he was killing me, but he snatched my hands to his grip. I struggled to get free but he barely noticed my efforts.

He screwed the shower head off the hose keeping me tucked under his arm. I got the gag off and begged him in terrified sobs to let me go. There was nothing of Dima left in him and I was afraid the new bout of torture would end in my death. Then again, to me it was of little consequence, for I was in a state in which there was nothing left of me either.

He tested the water was lukewarm and left the hose to trickle water in a weak stream. He heaved me into the bathtub and lifted me up by my ankles. He swore and shook me until I supported my weight with my shaky arms. My stomach rested on his crotch, and my crotch against his stomach available for abuse. My legs rested on his chest with my feet sticking up in the air above his shoulders. He had abused my body cavities to such depths that my stomach was in shock. He barely got me steady before I twitched and threw up on my hands in the tub. He growled curses at me and slapped me hard on the hip to declare he didn’t approve.

He sprayed me clean with the hose and left it to trickle. He threw a towel in front of me. “Put that in your mouth and make no noise.” He drizzled water on my used anus and pushed two fingers in. I groaned loudly in futile anger kicking with my feet, while he spread my asshole, stretching the little cuts glistening with blood. Slowly he forced the end of the hose in through my wrinkly bud. He pushed it as deep as it easily went, some four inches, and I cried out, almost dropping the gag from my mouth, as the hard plastic end scraped the linings of my anal tract.

I had understood of course what was to come, but no amount of bracing myself prepared me for his homemade enema and I started immediately feeling extremely uncomfortable. Even the slow trickle of water had pressure that bulged my bowls and, adding to the effect, with the water the hose spewed air as well. I kicked frantically with my feet and – biting down on the gag – screamed in panic for him to turn off the water.

The pain of filling up was excruciating and I howled like an animal while trying to escape him. The gag muffled enough of my screams that none were heard outside the room but Dima heard, and ignored. I let my hands buckle and tumbled hard into the tub. My legs slid down his chest until I was cramping violently in the little pool of water remaining on the bottom. My treacherous anus didn’t let the hose slide out of me and when I reached for it Dima stopped me though deep down he knew he couldn’t keep it up for long. After listening to my panicked yelling and sobbing for long enough to get hard again, he turned off the water and I felt the hose twitch when the water pressure died down.

He grabbed me by the hair and jerked my face to him. “Keep all in,” he snarled in English. “Out, and do again.”

He pulled the hose out slowly and I curled into a ball, desperately trying to clench shut the anus he’d fucked so loose. I needed air and spit the gag out to take what shallow gasps of air I could without making the pain worse. Allowing me no rest he hauled me out of the tub, the manhandling almost making me loose control over my pelvic muscles.

When my feet touched the floor I cramped so bad I couldn’t really stand, but he made me walk around so he could see me suffer. I was in such distress I no longer had thoughts or words, my mind had regressed to that of an animal.

Drunk with his own power Dima muttered with a thick throaty voice, “I’m gonna fuck you like that.” In disbelief I stared at him, tears streaking my face. His whisper was cold as ice, “Look at your legs baby - you bleed. One way or another, you’re always wet for me, aren’t you?”

He stalked at me and I skittered away. I knew I wouldn’t last long and I prayed for him to leave me alone for the pressure had grown too strong. I pinched my sphincter as hard as I could but inevitably my efforts gave out. Enraged and crying, throwing everything I got my hands on at him, I yelled, “Get out, get out, get out!” But it was too late. I felt a spluttering flood splash on the floor and howled in shame. Stricken, I kept my eyes closed, too mortified to move.

Dima swore coarsely and stormed out, I rushed to lock the door behind him, trying to lock him out of my head to another dimension. I knew I could never face another human again, least of all him for he’d seen it. Sobbing, I washed my legs and crotch. I couldn’t believe what had happened; my anus felt numb like it wasn’t even there. I washed the floor and kept frantically scrubbing everything until I couldn’t stand up anymore.

The first degradation wasn’t enough. I had to sit on the toilet for an eternity, suffering sharp pangs of pain – and even sharper of shame – before my bowls were empty. I kept the shower in my hand, hiding myself during all of it in a cascade of lifesaving little droplets. I never wanted to get out from under the only comfort I had.

I crawled to cower in the tub and hugged the shower to my chest; the flow of water was the only thing that could wash away my dirt, soil and shame. I tried not to think for I couldn’t face the revulsion that would follow if I did think.  Next to me thin swirls of blood danced in the water rushing towards the drain and I knew I was breaking down.

My fingers were wrinkled and the air dense with steam when Dima knocked on the door. He kept calling my name and asking what was going on. I stayed in my numbness, my solace and his voice got louder and distressed. When he was about to kick the door in I got up and slouched towards the noise. I turned the lock and started back towards my sanctuary for beneath the stream of water filth did not exist.

Dima saw I was unravelling and shook me until my eyes focused on him. I recognized my monster and eyes wide with fear shrank away from his touch but I was too weak to struggle. He wrapped a towel around me and pressed me against him rubbing my back, drying me off. I could tell he was talking but none of it reached me and, getting nowhere, he turned me around and steered me out of the bathroom.

Anxious to be separated from the shower I babbled incoherent nonsense about dirt, water and bath tubs – all in Finnish, since in that base state it was all I had left. I went to my wardrobe and tried to nest in the clothes lying on its floor and it wasn’t easy for him to get me out for I craved the privacy of that small dark space. To be seen and touched when feeling that unclean was horrible, it made me want to scream.

Dima was gravely aware he’d gone too far, gotten too deep in the role he had taken and misjudged how much I could endure. He was determined to get me out of my spiralling hysteria. Since getting to me in the bathroom he’d been speaking to me softly in his own language, he was past caring if I understood or not. Holding my hand he sat down on the bed, I resisted trying to back off as a wave of nauseating fear washed over me. Frantically I repeated the words ‘no more’ in Finnish, shaking my head, but he was adamant and pulled me to him.

Slowly, droplet by droplet, I was seeping blood. It smeared on him and the sheets but Dima ignored the mess and cradled me like a child. He began to sing quietly, his voice constantly breaking into a humming whisper and it was that gruff buzz repeating a lullaby-like tune that finally calmed me. When I was lucid enough to pay attention Dima started to stroke my wet hair. He quit singing and pressed his lips on the top of my head, hugging me tight he whispered, “прости меня пожалуйста моя маленькая, прости.” Prosti menya pozhaluista moya malenkaya, prosti. Please forgive me little one, I’m sorry.

To hear the pain in his voice demolished a wall I’d built inside my head. I forgot his English was nigh useless and sobbed in a flood of words how horrible I felt, how it hurt, how he’d humiliated me, how afraid I’d been, how used I had felt after his first indifferent taking of me and how used I felt now, how awful it was to have no way to communicate when gagged and tied and hooded, and he let me rant, stroking and holding me. Finally, after a dozen apologies we both fell asleep.

***

At night in the darkness I woke up to him settling himself between my legs. “Dima, no,” I blurred, but he took my hands and pinned them over my head in his one big hand.

When I tried to protest further, he closed my mouth with a long soft kiss and put his lips close to my ear and rasped in a low voice, “I want you, I take you.” He parted my sore and swollen pussy lips with his free hand, guided his cock to my opening and slowly, emitting a crossbreed of a groan and a sigh, pushed himself inside.

To be forced open again burned my raw flesh but Dima was gentle; he didn’t try to make it hurt but brook no argument even when it did. When all of him was in he stopped and I wriggled in discomfort. The weight of him on top of me was comforting and familiar, but the smell of my own sticky blood made me sick. He kissed my neck and whispered with his lips just above my ear, “You’re mine baby. Blood ‘n all, you belong to me. I own you.” It was true. He knew it, I knew it, but I was so sore. He started to move in and out of me very slowly.  When I whined he shushed me. When I moaned he put his hand over my mouth and told me, not unkindly, to be quiet. All the while he held my hands above my head, making it clear that he was in charge.

I was soon bleeding again but was too numb to care. Dima had known sex at that time would hurt me, but my increasing wetness assured him I could take it. He murmured loving endearments while penetrating me with measured movements. When I winced or grimaced he paused and shushed me until I relaxed. He invaded my body and enjoyed watching how I laboured to muffle my reactions only because he’d told me to do so.

After I had sunk into a lethargic sturpor, Dima kneeled and helped me straddle him. I leaned my back on his chest and grunted as he pulled me on his rigid cock. He started rocking me on his shaft, careful to let me get used to the deeper penetration he achieved in that position. Thus, ever whispering in his sweet Russian, he made love to me lingering in every thrust to my slick sleepy warmth. His motions, how ever gentle, ached, but when the fingers of his right hand brushed the curve of my neck, all but pleasure faded.

He leaned to nuzzle and I bent my head eagerly to give him full access. Continuing to work his cock in and out of me, he made me quiver and gasp by stroking my neck with the tip of his nose. I writhed as he dragged his lips up and down, kissing and licking my sensitive skin. “You’re getting wetter for me every passing second,” he whispered, and I couldn’t deny the power his sex laden words had over me, for my body twitched and I felt a powerful spasm grip my cunt. I knew that what wetness there had been had just doubled.

The air in the bedroom was stuffy and smelled like sex. Dima took one of my hands and placed it on my clit, moving it in circles until I obediently took it up. His gentle persuasion of my groggy body had set a glow in me; it was a fantasy, being taken in forced silence by a strong willed man I had neither capability nor courage to challenge. Blood rushed in my ears and my chest was so tight I could barely breathe. I wanted to let go of the world and fall into him and he sensed it. “Good girl,” Dima coaxed me to succumb, keeping his thrusts steady and rhythmic. He turned my head so he could whisper into my ear. “You’re so fragile on the outside, but you’re not a nice girl. Nice girls don’t get wet when they’re pinned down and hurt. Nice girls go for nice boys and I’m no boy.” I shivered and that roller coaster feeling clenched my stomach. He wasn’t a kid, he was a man and he was in me.

Emboldened he went on, “You like it when someone big and strong throws you on the bed and forces your legs apart? You like to squeal when a grown man’s cock stretches your ass? Does it turn you on to be fucked ‘til you bleed?” My body tensed up anticipating the imminent climax. It was so excruciatingly close I had to hold my breath as not to have that bliss slip away. I sipped in short breaths through my nose when I had to, but I didn’t dare to exhale and the pressure in my body grew.

It was difficult to concentrate while rocking on his lap. “Please, stay, still,” I panted, one word per a hasty exhale, and he quit moving. I grunted in frustration for I’d become so wet my strokes lacked the friction I required to cum. I was so close I ached, but the deliverance eluded me.

“Naughty little girl, playing with herself. Feel how hard you’re making me? Cum for me baby and I’ll give you what you need. I’ll fuck you hard. I’ll make it hurt. I’ll cum inside you and let it run down your bloody thighs. I’ll make you my little slut.” I did feel how hard he was and his voice made every little hair on my body stand up. Each message painted vivid pictures in my mind and sent currents of buzzing energy roaming my body. He started shushing me again and with the third good girl a blinding light erupted from my core. I came hard, exhaling all air from my lungs in one long huff, cramping, arching, shaking my head madly. I clenched my teeth striving to keep the forced wow of silence my Dima had imposed on me.

The second I started to shake he shoved me harshly from my knees to all fours. He started pounding me from behind with no restraint, making all the aches and hurts burn me like hell. He clamped his hand on my mouth and fucked me so fast I couldn’t make out strokes anymore, just the pain. My muscles still twitched in the aftermath of my orgasm and I went on using them, urging him to cum. He’d liked it before so I pushed against his thrusts with all my strength, and his grunts got louder. I resisted the demands of my agonized pussy to stop contracting my muscles, the pain was nothing as long as I had the opportunity to be a good girl for him. My face broke into a gleeful smile when my diligent squeezes sent him rocketing to his final fix. He shot his precious load in me, pumping ‘til the end with a roar that wasn’t human. Now it was his eyes that couldn’t focus and he fell on the bed beside me with a thump. He put an arm around me and dozed right off, I lay still, savouring the wet pool between my legs, thinking lovingly it was his seed welling in me. Seed he’d given me exactly where and when and how rough he wanted.

***

When I woke up in the morning Dima was already awake. He lay beside me looking at me anxiously. I was a mess. In addition to the tangle that used to be my hair and the standard sweat and other sexual grime, there was blood on me. Even my hands were rusty from rubbing my pussy. My face was puffy and eyes red from crying and screaming. I had angry bruises from our struggling and bigger ones from my fall into the tub. Altogether I was not a pretty sight. How I must disgust him now, I thought with my chest and stomach in such a knot I could hardly move. Without a word, carefully hiding myself in the duvet, I got up and walked stiffly to the bathroom.

I was thankful he extended me the courtesy of allowing me to shower alone. When I got out I walked past him with my eyes downcast as he went to take his turn. Dima had stripped the bed from bloody items and opened the balcony door to let in fresh air. I listened to the rap-rap-rapping of water drops, thinking what he looked like standing under the stream with his hair all wet. My heart was racing: on the right was wonder and joy, on the left was fear and apprehension. Between them was confusion and in the midst of it was I.

I heard the shower stop and the knot got tighter still. I was lying down on the bed, all tensed up, hugging a pillow when Dima came to stand by the bed. “Neshenka?” He squatted in front of me searching for my gaze. My head was spinning: the strain in his voice, his unsettling expression, the nightmare in the bathroom, the moments I’d felt good while he was treating me bad, inability to control my own mind, fear that he wouldn’t want me anymore and a million other things all added up in my head and I burst into tears.

He looked like I had just hit him. He extended his hand towards me, wanting to give comfort, but didn’t dare to touch me and suddenly I understood his face. He thought I’d hate him after last night. Sure, a part of me did hate a part of him, but I couldn’t let him think that I didn’t care for him. There was no stopping the flow of tears so I took his wavering hand and pressed it on my cheek. Relieved to get a reaction he stood up and sat on the bed. Leaning his back on the headboard, he pulled me to him, and I made a nest for myself in his arms. I had thought about this many times during the weekend, a time would come when words needed to be said, when touches, smiles and sex failed as sufficient communication. Comically some t.A.T.u. lyrics I’d memorized in high school proved unexpectedly useful.

I loathed my emotional outburst and fought to choke down the sobs. Concentrating on my pronunciation I recited in Russian, “It’s not simple, you and me. Why am I attracted to you? I don’t understand myself. I’m loosing my mind, but without you I am not me.”

It felt queer to hear him speak English again. First I wondered how he suddenly had all the words but soon realized he was paying me back in kind. “In the darkness, there's so much I wanna do and I can't get enough of you. There's something that drives me wild but I was made for lovin' you baby.” When he was done I turned and finally looked at him. “Tell me I make you feel good,” he whispered hoarsely.

My Russian was clumsy but close enough, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I don’t want you to stop.”

Smiling he took my head in his hands and gave me one of those kisses of his that closed me into a circle of safety and shut all the confusion out.

 Chapter one

Siri’s life wasn’t actually a life as much as it was an Easter egg, carefully painted layers of chocolate to cover all the things that should have been there and weren’t. She’d dreamed of leaving since she was fourteen and after ten years knew exactly where she’d go - Eastern Europe. To be sure, it wasn’t the safest of destinations for a woman travelling alone, but an ideal choice for anyone hoping to disappear. At Helsinki West Terminal she boarded the M/S Baltic Princess with the firm intention of never to return. What ever she would decide to do, Siri was confident that no one could trace her from a country like Belarus or Slovakia and she would be in peace.

***

As it was 2000s Siri had expected to get by relatively well with English, but she didn’t. Neither did her moderate skills in Russian help her as much as she had hoped for. In addition the rather romantic expectations she’d had of her chosen refuge to large extent  proved to be misconceptions. Eastern Europe was loud, pushy and restless and the gipsy life proved more taxing than she’d anticipated. She took in the flood of people, colours and sounds without resorting to her medicine, however, after the hustle and bustle of Warsaw she was in desperate need for silence.

She changed busses at the Ukrainian border and in a few hours felt the tightening in her chest ease as she gazed out the window at the fields, moors and lakes of Shatskyi national park. After a careful study of her map Siri got off the bus seemingly in the middle of nowhere. From where she stood stretched out an eight kilometre hike to one of the smaller lakes of the area, hopefully a paradise of peace and quiet.

She skirted fields and crossed through thickets of deciduous trees among open fields of short grass. The ground was even and the day wasn’t particularly hot but the marching tired her out quickly. She reached the lake hours later than she’d estimated, sweaty and utterly spent. Feeling faint she struggled to put up her tent and fell asleep as soon as she had her sleeping bag and mattress unrolled.

She slept fitfully, shivering from cold, drifting from one terrifying nightmare to another. Every time she stirred she gulped down large amounts of water, and eventually she had to pee. Too spooked to unzip the door to the unknown she urinated into the bowl of her Trangia, too befuddled from the fever to feel the slightest bit silly.

When dawn chased the darkness away her fear let go and she slept for a few straight hours. Besides that the morning brought little in the way of relief. By ten o’clock the temperature inside the tent had climbed to uncomfortable levels but Siri was too sick to move her bed outside. She had only one litre of water left which meant she would have to move before it ran out completely. In one of the Shatskyi lakes the water was said to be safe to drink, but it wasn’t her lake.

It was near eight o’clock when Siri forced herself up on wobbly legs and left her camp. She staggered towards the road, but the whole world was gibberish. She clung to her map and compass but couldn’t bring her sluggish brain to remember how to use them.

Dusk fell and her unease returned. Startled by every sound and shape she hurried on, consumed by her fear. Tears streamed from her eyes and she talked to herself in whispers, hanging on to the last semblance of self control. She had long finished the last of her water when in the looming darkness her eyes suddenly focused on a tiny distant light.

Hope went a long way. She let her backpack thump on the ground and ignored her thirst, aches and fever. She kept on for another two hours until the light went out and the house that had emanated it was consumed by darkness. In an instant the hope that had sustained her died and took with it all her strength. She took a few hesitating steps but her knees bent and she collapsed. Just before fading into nothingness, she saw the first promises of a new sunrise in the horizon.

Chapter two

Choma carried the girl in the house and laid her carefully on the sofa. He might have walked right past her had his ears not picked up the sharp wheeze of her breathing. The girl looked like death and his mind was in shambles. He knew the first priority was to get off her wet clothes but it didn’t feel right to strip the poor girl naked. He needed help. Larisa would know what to do but he didn’t like leaving her alone in the state she was in. Yet, too worried not to, he covered her in blankets and hurried to his battered old truck.

***

“What is she doing in those wet clothes?” Larisa exclaimed walking in the room. “Choma Danylovych, what on earth were you thinking?” It was the first time in years Choma heard Larisa swear. “You old fool, it’s the wrong bloody time to be a prude.” Choma hung his head. Larisa was right and he was ashamed of his earlier sheepishness. “Off with you then. Put water to boil and bring her something dry to sleep in,” she said hurrying to remove her clothes.

Roma returned with a long cotton shirt. “You’ll have to help me. I can’t dress her on my own. Don’t be ridiculous, Choma, God knows it’s not the first time you see a naked woman.” This isn’t a woman, she’s a girl, he thought dismally but didn’t contradict.

“Prop her up,” ordered Larisa and Choma slid his hands to the small of her back and lifted. As her body rose into a sitting position, the blanket slid down and Choma saw her beautiful round breasts with tiny half erected nipples. His thoughts instantly wandered to what they would feel like in his hands, how would it feel to press his lips to that soft flesh.

As soon as it had appeared the sight was gone; Larisa had gotten the girl’s hands into the sleeves and buttoned the shirt up commanding him to carry their patient upstairs. Her soft body felt soft through the thin fabric and, shivering, Choma took her into the small bedroom and lay her on the mattress. There was something disturbingly erotic in her unconscious form on the bed before him, but Larisa’s voice woke him to reality. “Bring some juice and all hot water bottles you have. And a decent book if you don’t mind, I’ll get under the covers to warm her up.”

“Will she be ok?” asked Choma.

“I honestly don’t know,” answered Larisa shaking her head.

Choma tried to go about his work but was plagued by images of the girl’s naked breasts and the two women huddling tightly against each other under the blankets. He couldn’t concentrate and spent the day walking around aimlessly, his thoughts constantly on the room upstairs and the sick girl within. In the evening Larisa took her leave imploring him to vigilance, “She has a high fever, keep a close eye on her. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how she’s doing.”

Choma sat with her the whole night wiping her face with a wet cloth. Larisa had remade her dishevelled braid, and it ran on the duvet leading Choma’s eyes once more onto her chest. He tucked the coil of hair in with the girl to rid himself of the image of her breasts. Choma expected to unravel her mystery but though she kept murmuring and babbling it was impossible to make out what she was saying. At times she woke up from a nightmare, eyes wide in terror, but when he tried to talk to her she didn’t respond and fell back asleep.

Choma took pity on her. She was restless, tossed and turned, kicking her duvet aside. Dutifully he tucked her back in, each time trying to ignore her pale legs and thoughts of placing his hand on her thigh and sliding it up along her soft skin all the way beneath the hem of her shirt. His solitary life had mellowed his passions, but to have someone enticing and vulnerable there for his taking rekindled the needs he’d long subdued. No, he said to himself countless times during the night, don’t even think about it.

Come morning he woke up from his chair, every muscle stiff. The girl looked angelic in the soft orange light. Choma reached for her braid and slid it in his hand; his crotch stirred and so did his quilt. It was wrong of him to desire her. Too young, he chided himself and snorted, too unconscious. Still, he neglected his work and hovered over his little patient, stroking her brow and soothing her when she got restless.

Sometimes her distress had a wanton shade and she grasped his petting arm, writhing against it, trying to push it down towards her crotch. When she got like that, it took all his self discipline to pull his hand away and leave the room. It would have been so easy to convince himself then that she was willing, and use her inert body to sate himself.

He said nothing of those moments to Larisa when she arrived to check on her as promised. However the remedies of Larisa Ivasivna didn’t extend much beyond common sense and there was nothing more she could do for the girl. They would have to let the fever run its course.

Chapter three

The first thing that registered was the smell of an old house. Knowing she wasn’t at home, she sat up slowly to find herself groggy in a strange dark room. She had shattered recollections of someone holding a cup to her lips, of fleeting voices and a rough hand stroking her forehead. She looked around her and listened - nothing. She wasn’t in a town or a city, for there was no light coming from the windows or any sounds of traffic. Fear swelled in her chest, fear of dark and of strangers. They’ve taken care of me this far, she reminded herself but the fear ran deeper than that.

Her hands shot up to her chest to fumble the long white shirt that covered her down to her thighs - it wasn’t hers. Feeling small and very much alone she saw in her mind a vague human shape stripping her, cruelly stealing from her the privacy to her own body. Her hands sought out her braid to hold on to something familiar, but she could tell at once it wasn’t of her own making.

Sitting still was impossible. She had to know where she was. She eased herself off the bed and on her shaky legs. Cursing every creek of the floor she shuffled to lean on the wall and opened the door. Behind it was a landing with stairs going down and two other doors. She detected a weak source of light from downstairs and proceeded to the first step. It took a moment to think up a best way to climb down and finally she sat down on the first step and one step at a time slid herself down.

Roaming in a strange house made her feel guilty but she didn’t want to announce herself just yet. She wanted to know who her hosts were first. On the last step she reached for the railing and pulled herself up. The hallway seemed to spin around her and she leaned against the wall, willing the world to stay still while she made her way towards the light.

She peeked into a cosy living room with an old fireplace and shabby furniture, a man sat in a chair facing the fire. His hair was touched by grey and his skin darkened by a lifetime spent outdoors. With her legs inevitably tiring, Siri studied Choma’s profile holding her breath. It’s his shirt. He’s touched me. Her nipples hardened and she realized she had no underwear. Has he used me? Her pussy tingled but there was no pain. Would I feel it if he has--, while I slept? Siri saved herself from the stain of the word. Christ, there may be semen welling in me right now. What will he do to me? Oh, I have to get out of here!

She meant to get her things and run but Choma had sensed her presence and looked up from his book. Surprised to find her up he hurried to her. Siri felt surreal for the man’s speech sounded like Russian but she couldn’t understand any of it. She closed her eyes in brink of tears and cowered against the wall pleading, “No, please, no,” when he approached. Choma, ignoring her silly fear, put a hand under her arm and led her a few clumsy steps, sitting her down on the worn sofa.

Disoriented and scared, Siri recoiled from him and backed in to the corner of the couch. Choma stepped back from the trembling girl. Waiting for his little ward to wake up he’d done what he could to make himself presentable and thus was a far neater looking man than the unkempt near hermit that found her. He’d shaven, trimmed his hair and found some clothes that hadn’t seen too many runs in the workshop. Still, he was a rugged, serious looking man and the long years alone hadn’t improved his social skills. He tried his best to look unthreatening but doubted his success.

He crouched to be on her level. “Listen, you’re safe here. I’m Choma, this is my house. I found you when you were sick.” She snatched an old quilt and covered herself. Choma was disappointed, he had expected a more cheerful moment than this. With his hands held up he rose and moving slowly past the girl sat down on the armrest of a chair next to the sofa. He kept his tone calm trying his best to reassure her but the confusion following her awakening was persistent and hard to penetrate. She starred at him with eyes bright with fever, her hands clutched the quilt and she cowered if he so much as shifted slightly.

They sat there a long while, her shock lessening and her breathing slowing down. As the minutes passed, and the man seemingly didn’t intend to harm her, Siri’s tense muscles loosened up. She closed her eyes and finally her brain picked words she understood. He said ‘my name is’.  “Choma,” she murmured sleepily and, as the drowsiness of fever flooded her head, added “I’m… Ya Siri.”

She stirred to his hand stroking her hair. Choma was standing right next to her, smiling a warm smile that deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. That particular touch had since childhood been a promise of love, shelter and caring and Siri gave in to it. If Choma had wanted to hurt her he could have done so. With her eyes half closed she leaned her head against her rescuer in a silent plea for solace. When he slipped his hands under her arms and hauled her up she didn’t question it.

Choma led the woozy girl back to bed. Siri was unsteady on her feet but Choma kept his strong arm around her and didn’t let her fall. He tucked her in and she muttered, “Hyvää yötä,” her eyes already closed. “Na dobranič,” he replied automatically and sat down on the little chair in which he’d lately spent so many hours.

Siri fell asleep quickly, too tired to be aware of strangers or danger. Choma watched her. His flesh throbbed where she had laid her head. That intimation made him feel even more protective of her than before. Yet at the same time the image of her cowering form, bare legs and frightened eyes haunted him. Her small hands had squeezed so hard on the quilt which she had trusted to hide her vulnerability.

He had wanted to give her a reason to fear, to be the man she had thought him to be. Those legs had led not just his eyes but also his imagination to the secrets hidden in the shadows under the shirt. Choma imagined her face if he had taken the blanket from her and cupped her little pussy in his hand. His penis swelled and bent uncomfortably in his trousers. He grunted softly and shifted to let it bounce straight. He looked at the sleeping form of the girl, Siri, and gathered his strength of will to exit the room.

***

She was floating in shallow water. Their faces hovered over her. She tried to explain but they wouldn’t listen. They wanted her to swim where the water was so dark she’d be drawn in to the abyss. A weak current tugged at her feet. “I don’t want to,” she whispered at the faces, but the current got stronger and pulled at her body. “I won’t! You can’t make me!” she yelled, petrified of the unknown. The faces closed in to devour her and she screamed. 

Her dream was penetrated by whispers and shushing. A warm and real hand stroked her clammy forehead. She noted a faint rustle of clothes and sensed the man standing right beside her. Choma’s hand cupped her cheek and he leaned closer. In a heartbeat all traces of sleep were gone. He brought his nose to her neck and breathed in her scent. Oh, god. She nearly twitched when the nausea hit her. What happened while I slept, she thought with a choking feeling in her throat. Frozen still she waited for Choma to crush her beneath his body and force himself inside her. Her terrified mind could feel her legs already spread and a man between them. Not this. Please.

She wanted to plea but as long as he thought she was asleep there was a chance it would all go away. Her chest was tight as she desperately held back a sob; she could almost feel his hands roaming her defenceless body and his fingers parting her nether lips for his cock. If he raped her, she had no choice but to lie down and let him. He was too strong to fight and besides, where would she run without clothes. She didn’t even know where she was. Before a tear escaped from beneath her closed eyelids he stepped away from the bed and left the room. She heard a very heavy sigh as he closed the door.

Chapter four

In the morning Siri felt a little better and sat on the bed plucking up courage to leave the room. Her clothes waited on a chair, washed clean, panties and all. She remembered some flashes of last night and was uneasy to face the man again. She desperately wanted to wash. The not knowing of what he had or hadn’t done to her while she was out ate at her. Her cunt itched and wouldn’t let her mind rest. The doubt of having been soiled was unbearable. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stop thinking about sex! She wondered if her mind was racing so because she had gone off her medicine or was it her instincts crying out to warn her.

She found him in the kitchen preparing what turned out to be a rather awkward breakfast. Choma, although trying hard to hide it, resented that Siri was still obviously afraid of him. He wanted to be understanding but her suspicion made him feel stupid for looking after her. Her memory, on the other hand, was coming back and she knew she was in Ukraine, but not getting any further answers was infuriating. She was grasping at straws trying every language she knew and a few she didn’t. She kept coming back to English and Russian but the man didn’t show any signs of recognition. Siri buried her face in her hands, hot tears burning in her eyes, and Choma took pity on the disheartened girl. “Larisa will be glad to see you up. Larisa is my friend.” Siri looked up. “She helped you too.” He felt stupid talking to her as if she was a lackwit, “Larisa will come visit.”

The woman Choma later led to the living room was in her fifties and emitted purposefulness that bordered on intimidating. Not bothering to slow down her speech, she greeted Siri kindly introducing herself as Larisa Ivasivna. She shooed Choma out of the room and prompted Siri to take off her shirt and bra. She was embarrassed but Larisa laughed it away and assured her in a no-nonsense voice. Gingerly Siri undressed and the older woman looked her over front and back. Feeling fragile and exposed with her breasts bare, Siri’s thoughts wandered to Choma and his visit during the night.

Siri couldn’t understand what Larisa was saying and her imagination conjured up one scary explanation after another. She was stiff with fear, sure that Larisa was a brothel keeper here to buy her. The thought of strange men looking at her nakedness burned and froze her simultaneously and her nipples hardened. She stared at the ceiling willing what ever was to come to be over soon.

Her breath caught in her throat when Larisa pressed an ear between Siri’s plump breasts. Siri held her breath, humiliated to be naked in front of a stranger and shocked to be touched. Larisa said something and exaggerated her breathing and Siri resumed to take in air. The woman straightened her back and turned Siri around. Her ear pressed against Siri’s back and she dutifully breathed for her. Larisa started chattering and though Siri didn’t understand the words she recognized the tone from a hundred check ups, after which followed the doctors statement of everything being ok.

Siri put her shirt back on in a hurry. Seeing that her patient was decent Larisa called Choma back in and explained him that Siri’s lungs were fine. Choma’s smile was relieved. He looked at Siri but she cast her eyes down, still uncomfortable to have been examined so brusquely.

Choma invited Larisa to stay but she declined, charging Choma with the care of Siri. He was glancing frequently at her, her meek eyes meeting with his. Larisa ended her speech in a cheeky joke embarrassing the both of them, though Siri had no grasp of the contents of it. Siri could tell it wasn’t the first time Larisa met her and she wondered which of them had stripped her and put her to bed.

The front door closed and Siri and her benefactor were alone. The floorboards creaked under his feet as Choma returned to the living room. Siri crossed her arms to hide her erect nipples poking through her shirt. It didn’t help her to relax that she was thinking the whole time if he had seen her naked. Does he know what I look like under my clothes? Is he thinking about it? Did he touch me when he undressed me? Siri’s pussy smouldered and she felt his phantom finger stroking her unconscious body. A shudder ripped through her and she was powerless to subdue it. Choma rushed to her, alarmed that she would suffer a relapse. Siri was thankful he’d never know of the real source of the shudder, of the throb between her legs.

Choma broke the silence by taking her to have a look around his homestead. Most of the house she’d already seen, but outside a big yard was framed by a shed, a workshop, a sloping blackcurrant field of some 40 bushes and a small kitchen garden with fruit trees. The house was a bit run-down alike those she’d seen in pictures taken of Russian Carelian countryside. Where the slope ended flowed a little stream, a stretch of which Choma had widened into a bathable pool. In the middle of the yard stood a chicken coo with its cackling inhabitants and a greenhouse pieced together from old windowpanes. Siri was impressed for the farm was not unlike some of the more utopistic dreams of down to earth life she’d harboured back home.

Still, she wanted to know where she was, where was her backpack, her passport, her everything. In her honest believe that everyone everywhere had to know some English – if just a few latent words picked up from pop lyrics – she tried to reach him. Choma stared at her apologetically, feeling cruel for not answering, but as much as he wanted to he couldn’t.

With no helpful bystanders there to translate, after a series of unsuccessful attempts she fell into tears shouting at him in Finnish, desperate and frustrated not to get through to the only person she had to ask anything from. He got up and walked to her. More clumsy than the previous night he hugged her to him, and she was in such a state that this intimacy with a stranger didn’t throw her off, she just buried her face to his chest, mewing. He stroked her hair and tried to calm her down, speaking softly. The sofa wasn’t three meters away but he scooped her up and carried her to it.

He lay her down and she felt very vulnerable. Siri was afraid he’d take advantage of her but he fetched a blanket from one of the chairs and threw it over her. He said something to her she couldn’t understand and left the room. Soon after she heard him leave the house.

She went on sobbing for a long time, huddling in a foetal position beneath the blanket. When her body had no strength for sobs left, silent tears streamed down her face, welling in the hollow of her eye. The little quilt pillow under her head was wet as was the blanket she had dried her tears with. After an hour of regretting ever leaving home she fell asleep.

Siri woke up with Choma crouching beside her and his hand stroking her forehead. She sat up quickly, startled to wake up to a strange face looming over her. It took a while to remember who he was. According to the grandfather clock in the corner he’d left her for over four hours. His clothes were wet and behind him she saw her backpack. Seeing her smile, Choma looked like a daddy watching his little girl’s joy unwrapping a new doll on Christmas. He dragged the pack to her and she started unpacking, searching comfort from her familiar things. Everything was damp but undamaged except things made of paper. The brochures were a disgusting grey paste but her passport, notebook and map were safe each in their own ziplock bags.

Squinting over the map, she deduced she was on the opposite side of the lake than where the bus route ran. Choma reached his hand for her notebook, and she let him take a look at it for he wouldn’t be able to read her Finnish anyway. He studied the different tickets and poured over her drawings nodding apprecietatively. He turned the pages back to the title of the very first page. “Koti?” he asked. “Home,” she answered, “doma,” and took the book away from him. She needed no remainders that if she wasn’t happy at her old life, this new she had chosen, this vagrancy, was not making her glow with happiness either.

She showed him the calendar and the day she got off the bus and Choma pointed at six days from it. She felt uneasy, the man had had her in that room for three days, helpless and senseless. He lives here alone. Everyone has needs. Would he have used me? Her pussy prickled, and deep inside her vagina a burning sensation began where his imaginary semen would have settled.

The knot in her stomach didn’t leave her alone and she felt him inside her the whole evening. When ever he looked at her or came close she shuddered and winced as her cunt cramped. Her skin smouldered with goosebumps when she thought of how he’d hugged her, what it had felt like, her breasts pressing on his chest, his arms on her back pressing her gently against him.

Finally it was late enough to get up and say goodnight. Her walk was stiff as she made her way back to her room upstairs. Her whole body was tense after the wandering of her restless thoughts and, mind whirling, she couldn’t sleep. She wanted to touch herself but didn’t dare in this unfamiliar place. And what if he’ll catch me? She could subdue the moans almost completely but he might hear her heavy breathing. After a while she heard the stairs creek as Choma came up. His steps on the landing pierced her heart and she realized how wound up she was. He stopped outside her door for a moment and she could feel the beats of her heart as bulging pressure in her ears as she waited for him to turn the latch.

Then the floor creaked and he walked away and her body went limp. She breathed trying to catch the breath she’d been holding. It was not fear, not derision - her body wanted him.

***

In the night she stirred, the door to her room had opened. He came in, trying to avoid the creaking floorboards on the path to her bed. She tensed and stopped breathing as he came close and placed his hand on her forehead. When he caressed her, she couldn’t stop the air from escaping her lungs in a tiny gasp and her legs squirming to ease the pressing need in her pussy. Choma hastily withdrew his hand and left the room.

She lay awake for a long time and finally after hearing his low rumbling snores from behind the wall she dared to slide her hands on her pussy and bring herself off. She wished she had something inside, filling her pussy, on which her muscles could clamp on. Remembering that all her toiletry bottles were still downstairs with the pack she cursed.

***

On their second day she followed him around when he went about his work. She traced his steps as he walked between the rows of blackcurrant bushes checking the progress of the crop. She handed him tools as he fixed the fence of the chicken coo and listened keenly to his chatting. When she heard a word she recognized she repeated it and nodded, relieved to understand something. Her Russian was mostly ridiculous but she kept trying.

In the evening she came to his workshop and after watching him work for a while, she reached for his old apron, wanting to help. Choma was happy for she certainly prettied up his old shed. Her eyes were full of laughter, squinting into green teasing cat eyes and Choma never knew if the seduction in them was innate, intended or only of his imagination. When she smiled the crack between her front teeth made Choma want to smile with her. He wondered what her hair looked like. She always kept it tightly braided but as cute as it was he wished he could watch her brush it out and see her long strawberry blonde hair flowing down her shoulders.

Chapter five

At first the girl had been nothing but his chance to make amends, but watching her and nursing her had given him a feeling of power over her. She was in his hands and he couldn’t help being turned on by it. When she woke up and turned out to be the picture of innocence, shy and girly, he’d been ashamed of himself, but through her sweetness he felt her gazes on him, too intense to miss. She was hard to read but in any case the dirty thoughts he had pained him and made him feel guilty. She was older than he’d thought when he found her, but twenty four was still twenty two years younger than him. She was too vulnerable for him to have her in his head naked and moaning. Yet every night there she was.

Each night there was also more tension in their parting to sleep in their respective rooms. He’d begun to think of it as her room and every day it was more difficult to remember what the house had been like before her. In the evenings he liked to sit in the living room with her sitting nearby crouching over her journal. He wished he could understand her strange language for the notebook could probably answer many of his questions.

The girl had been well enough to travel for a few days but she didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Not that he complained, it was nice to have company. It was difficult to understand though. Where had she come from? She must have been on her way to somewhere when he’d found her but what the hell was she doing out there in the middle of nowhere alone. Since she travelled with such a backpack she might be just another tourist but his homestead wasn’t much of an attraction. He’d checked her passport and the stamps traced her steps from Finland through the Baltic states, Belarus and Poland all the way to Ukraine.

The name she’d given him was none of the three first names listed on the passport. Was that important? What did she want? Why was she staying? Choma had his own sinister suspicions but he’d left that life so long ago. If she had been sent to search for Vakhno she’d have a passport to match any name she went by.

Chapter six

The work of the day was done and Choma was reading on the couch. Siri came to him, sat down and looking at him timidly leaned her head in his lap. He didn’t know what to make of it and the situation might have been very awkward but she was so calm that it rubbed on him. She lay still, occasionally rubbing her head in his lap, drinking in some kind of solace but he didn’t feel drained, on the contrary he felt invigorated. He put a hand over her head and she let out a long sigh. A moment later she was asleep. It hadn’t been sexual but now she was sleeping his mind raced and he had to wake her up. Her petrol blue t-shirt had a wide rectangular neckline and he could see the tops of her breasts. They didn’t look so much sexy as they did pretty. Like all of her her breasts seemed innocent and soft. He wanted to cup them in his hands and close the whole girl in his arms, but it would be a disaster to have her wake up to his stiffening penis poking at the back of her head. Stroking her head he woke her up and sent her upstairs to sleep in her own bed.

Siri couldn’t sleep for her thoughts wandered to the moments during the day he’d stood so close to her that a deep breath would have made them brush against each other. Little ripples of warmth travelled on her skin and she sensed acutely the cool cotton of the sheets on her and the weight of the duvet. She was hot and pushed the duvet from her chest, imagining all the sensations of his big warm hands exploring her body, searching a way in. His imagined touch reached her knees and she spread her legs, straining her tendons as wide as she could to invite him to touch her. The duvet slid down to the valley between her legs and the bundle had her aching for Choma’s heavy frame there, his flesh against hers. She bent her knees and reached her hands to her crotch. She’d made herself wet, the juices from inside her had leaked out and spread as she had writhed and gyrated in her imaginations. Her whole pussy was sticky and glistening.

Her own touch was not what her body craved, but when she parted her wet lips and rested her fingers over the fold of flesh that hid her pearl it didn’t matter, she just needed to get off and fast. Rubbing wildly she let out two little moans while writhing in her fantasies, but anyone could moan faintly in their sleep. When she came she moaned louder and cursed as her startle took off the sharpest edge of her orgasm leaving her angry, wanton and disappointed.

Her annoyance stopped as she heard creaking from behind the wall. Choma had gotten up. Too nervous to breathe she lay back down and straightened her night shirt. She tried to kick the duvet back to cover her but managed only to reveal her other leg in its entirety. She was aware of the smell of her steaming pussy in the air above her. She quickly hid her smelly rubbing hand under her ass and blew the air from her lungs to disperse the cloud around her. The metallic klick of the door latch opening froze her.

Through his sleep Choma had heard her moan. After all his solitude he was sensitive to noises in his house. He’d heard a moan just like the ones she’d let out in her fever delirium. He walked carefully to the landing and entered her room. The girl had kicked the covers aside and her brow was hot and sweaty. Her breathing was closer to panting than the deep breathing of a sleeper. “Please don’t get ill again little angel,” Choma whispered and wiped the clammy sweat from her forehead and stroked her as he had so many times before. She was a sweet thing. He stared at her bare leg, the old shirt askew, lips slightly open, chest heaving. He shivered at the sight, knowing that if he slid his hand up her leg he’d find the hot moist snatch of a sleeping woman. He wanted her. He looked at her breasts, the soft shapes he could more remember than see in the darkness.

Without thinking his hand brushed down the side of her head. When his hand touched her neck above her collarbone she whimpered and twitched. Quickly Choma removed his hand, embarrassed if the girl should wake. She didn’t move again and the sweat hadn’t reappeared and her breathing had normalized. Perhaps it was just a nightmare. He stood still for a moment and as the girl slept peacefully, straightened her duvet to cover her from neck to toe.

She waited for him to touch her, she wished for him to touch her, but he walked out. Her clit smouldering, she wanted to speak up, to ask him to come back and make it all better, but what would he think of her? His opinion had become to mean something to her. She had had plans where she was to go after the lake visit, in Ukraine and further, and she was well enough to travel again, but she was reluctant to resume her hikes, bus rides and nights in strange hostels. All of that had diminished into an insubstantial haze in her mind after she had waken up in Choma’s house. The man and his way of life interested her, a man who on other hand made her laugh and on the other hand brooded like no other. Where between those two aspects of him could she ask him to grab her tight, strip her and take her?

Here on his homestead had happened the thing she had searched all the way from Estonia to Slovakia and now Ukraine. She had forgotten the anxiety that had driven her to escape her life back home, she’d lost the nagging thoughts that had driven her mad. In this house in the middle of nowhere, where everything was strange and yet so very simple, could she finally breathe and be free from the life she’d been born to, the madness of shopping, competition, degrees, career choices and the little happy pills that got people through it all. If only time would go faster. She wanted him but she didn’t want to be a slut and loose his respect or his friendship, for she felt so right being there.

Chapter seven

They’d been picking blackcurrants all morning. She had to take off her t-shirt in the mid-day heat even though she knew her sweaty chemise showed through more than it hid. The moment of embarrassment was fleeting and the unpleasantness was smothered by the familiar rippling sensation on her clit. Let him see. She closed her eyes and imagined Choma staring at her intently, breathing in ragged bursts. They were both wearing romantic peasant clothes and his gripping eyes held her gaze and stiffly he took a few steps, closing the distance between them. She was petrified and did nothing when he seized her, blazing with unrestrained desire. Such fire in the generally calm man scared her and she fought back when he proceeded to fell her on the dry ground. “Choma!” she shrieked but no echo took up her plea.

He pushed her skirts up and yanked her bloomers down. “Shh,” he commanded and sticked his berry purple fingers in her mouth to be sucked. “Open your legs,” he demanded. He pulled his hand free and leaned it in the dirt beside her head. “No help from upstairs,” he murmured raggedly positioning his other hand, clean of saliva, on her crotch. When his fingertips brushed her pussy she moaned loudly and her body, having waited for this moment for days, arched up to beg him to enter. Her labia, glistening with her secretions, gave no resistance and his dry fingers slid right inside her to search for the opening to her pussy. “You should have told me you needed a man this badly,” Choma sneered as he roughened his advances. Siri yelped when he shoved sharply with his fingers and scratched the linings of her pussy forcing his way in. “Have you been walking around dripping all this time? Little slut, I’ll teach you to hold out on me.”

She was sitting up to undo his trousers when Choma called for her. “What are you staring at silly girl? Has the sun made you faint? Where’s the hat I gave you?” Siri realized she’d been staring at his body with glazed hungry eyes for god knows how long and, blushing terribly, looked down mumbling something unrecognizable.

***

Though his house had a bathroom with a bathtub Choma liked to wash in the stream that ran along his backyard. He crouched over the cold stream every morning and after the day’s work was done. He thought she slept when he walked to it early each morning but Siri watched from her bedroom window as he took off his clothes folding them on a rock and waded up to his waist in the stream, soaping his naked body and crouching down to rinse. It had been mere curiosity at first but as her feelings towards him grew more and more erotic, she watched him with longing, wishing she could join him. She crept back under her duvet to touch herself but often the frustration kept her from getting off. On such mornings sitting opposite him in the kitchen was awkward for she feared he could smell her like a mare in heat – seething, hot and needy.

In the evening Choma lifted the blackcurrant crates to his truck and they drove half an hour to a dilapidated cannery. The proprietor, Oleg, grinned when he saw a girl on the passenger seat.  “And I thought you didn’t have any children.” Both men watched as Siri walked timidly to stand a few steps behind Choma.

“Sorry to be the one to break this to you old friend, but she’s too pretty to be of your issue.”

“Very funny Oleg, very funny,” Choma growled as Siri held out her hand to be introduced.

From behind the corner Oleg’s grandson was watching the three, hankering to tell everybody about Choma’s young friend, for there had to be something really dirty in this new piece of gossip.

Chapter eight

His thoughts were a mess, for Choma hadn’t slept that well since Siri had been with him. His dreams were restless and full of images he’d rather not think about: Siri bent over his workbench buttocks quivering, Siri kneeling in front of his chair her throat bulging with his cock, a naked crying Siri pinned against her bedroom door, a terrified Siri thrown on the ground with her dress torn. He had fought these thoughts for almost two weeks but as she was present at every part of his home and at every moment of his day it just wasn’t possible to block her from his mind. Once his sleep was disrupted and he lay awake in his bed, the smooth touch of the sheets on his skin became the touch of her skin and the warmth of his duvet nest the warmth of her body, and any attempt to get back to sleep was doomed.

He visited her room every night, sometimes more than once but the pleasure it had given him when he was looking after her was gone and now it only left him feeling constricted and choked. She always slept on her right side, clutching a pillow in her arms and looking lost. His desire to protect her throbbed ardently and the only thing that throbbed more was his cock. She was too sweet to hurt but he wasn’t sure for how long he could trust himself to fight the urges her presence woke up.

That night when they parted on the landing Siri looked him in the eyes saying “Na dobranič,” and added in Finnish “I’m waiting for you.” In the night Choma came as he always did and she pretended to sleep while he laid something on the bedside table. She could tell it was a book, but in the darkness it was impossible to find out more.

***

Early the next morning Siri woke up, instantly reaching for Choma’s book - an old and worn English-Ukrainian dictionary. She raced downstairs in her white nightshirt, running straight to the kitchen looking for Choma. He turned to face her and laughed to see her so excited. “Now I can talk to you!” Siri whooped wildly and ran to hug him. Choma was stunned as the girl, the warmth of her bed still clinging to her, thumped against him. To Siri the second was a long one before Choma stirred and stiffly put his arms around her. She could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin cotton fabric and didn’t move even after the duration of a normal hug was well past.

When she felt a restless stir in her body, she let go of him and stepped back. She gestured him to wait and consulted her new friend. Finding the word Siri read it out loud, “Happy.” When she looked up, Choma’s expression was restrained; his eyes were fixed on her and she realized that in the rays of morning light beaming through the window, his old shirt must have shown through quite a lot. Suddenly very self-conscious, she gave him a hesitant smile and bolted to the stairs.

Heart pounding she ran into her room, closed the door and stood her back against the back wall breathing hard. All the piled up sexual urges attacked her with vehemence. “No, no, no,” she murmured to herself until the door creaked open. Choma stood in the doorway staring at her, his hands gripping the doorframe. She didn’t move, only stared back with every muscle rigid and let out a weak whine.

Choma had invaded her personal space but Siri didn’t shoo him away. She was frozen in place, staring at him with her lips slightly apart. He could feel every ounce of his own strength and when she let out that insecure little whimper, there was nothing that could have stopped his hunger. He stalked towards the girl and she yipped in fright, reflexively lifting her hands in front of her. Yet Choma smiled for she hadn’t dodged.

He reached around her and pulled her to him. His other hand was in her neck, keeping her still as he leaned down to kiss her. She wriggled, fighting his embrace, and her hands tried listlessly to push him away but all the time she was kissing him back, her fingers digging into the flesh of his upper arms. Her lips were silky soft and he couldn’t wait to touch the rest of her. His swelling cock pressed hard against the girl’s belly and Siri whinnied. She tried to back away from him, but Choma took a step forward and effectively pinned her between himself and the wall. He moved his hand down and reached for her pussy.

Siri struggled at his rough attempts to cop a feel. If she hadn’t resisted he could’ve done it more gently, but without her cooperation he had to use force to part her lips and find the entrance to her secrets. She yanked herself free but her spinning momentum caused her to crash hard on her bed and Choma was on her like a wolf. He straddled her, restraining her legs and took hold of her hands, pinning them beside her head. There he paused.

The girl had panicked but at first she had been undeniably enthusiastic. Now there was fear in her eyes but there didn’t need to be. If she calmed down Choma was sure she’d like it. He hadn’t forgotten how eagerly her little body had pressed against him in the kitchen - she longed for him just as bad as he longed for her.

He kept his hips in the air so she wouldn’t feel the erection that had spooked her. “Shh,” he breathed, leaning to rub his cheek on hers. He told her not to be scared but couldn’t be sure if she understood, however, the fact that she wasn’t fighting back was an invitation to him. The amount of blood rushed in his cock almost hurt; he shifted and it straightened in his trousers. When he leaned back to her it pressed against her tense body and she let out an anguished moan. 

He licked her neck slowly from her collarbone all the way to the spot behind her ear. She resisted and tried to get her hands free but he held her tight. She moaned angrily, but when he started kissing and nibbling her neck softly, she arched into him and her moans petered out into gasps and whimpers.

Letting go of her hands, Choma brushed his palms lightly against her breasts and Siri’s pebble hard nipples raked his skin. He was amazed of her responsiveness for her reactions to his touch were impressively powerful. She gyrated her hips, bucking into him, wordlessly asking to be touched stronger, harder, more. Every caress made her squirm and moan, and her hands grabbed his flesh, kneading like a cat in rhythm with her spasms. She didn’t resist when he one by one undid the buttons of his old shirt and revealed her body. Siri felt the fabric pushed aside but she was well past playing coy, for she wanted to be touched and taken.

Choma slid a finger to her opening, circling it, hardly able to believe the amount of wetness pouring out of her. She cried out and bucked impatiently onto the finger but he pulled back, playing with her. Her desire was volatile and aggressive and in a burst of anger she yelled at him until her rage broke into a plea. She was tense, her body resting on her shoulders and butt, her back rigid.

He didn’t have the heart to torment her any longer and he slid his finger inside her. She wailed loudly, and her sensual mouth curved into a blissful smile. The tight hole sucked on his digit and he dived slowly deeper. She urged him on, deeper and faster and as he put in more fingers, her pussy clamped on him, welcoming the touch.

He wanted to bury himself into that wetness but watching her was too interesting to stop. She lifted her ass in the air and fucked back, impaling herself harshly on his fingers. He fucked her harder yet she wanted more and more. He pressed her hips down and held her still. He tore into her pussy adamant to teach her not to ask for more than she could take.

His nail scratched her labia and the tiny amount of blood that smeared on her steaming vulva was enough for him to taste it in the back of his throat. To his surprise the crueller he was, the more she spread her thighs for him and her hands, previously flailing about, acquired new determination. She placed her delicate fingers on her slit and started masturbating. She hadn’t hidden her pleasure before but this was new for Choma - so much lust in one deceptively shy girl.

She twisted her leg between them and put her heel behind his bent elbow. She nudged his hand towards her, not letting him pull back from her cunt anymore, demanding him to get deeper and deeper. He’d stopped to his knuckles, when her pelvic opening resisted further advancement. Now she was kicking his hand deeper. When he pushed against the unyielding opening of bone her face cringed in pain but her heel on his elbow didn’t let up. “Make me feel alive. Make me scream. Please Choma, help me, I’m so hollow I can’t take it anymore.” She had to talk to him even if he didn’t understand.

She stopped rubbing herself and looked him in the eyes, “Make it hurt, please.” Her request, as earnest as it was, brought back memories he’d tried to forget. He didn’t want to do it, mix abuse and power games with sex because for him that way lay madness. However, to his chagrin, his willpower lasted but two whole minutes against the feel of her pulsing hole around his hand and the sight of the sweating wanton Siri. Growling at the horny girl he rammed his hand forwards, furiously attacking her vagina. Siri screamed and bucked when the punch hit the tissue surrounding her pelvic passage.

Choma ignored her distress. Fuck you bleating little princess, you asked for this.  On his third try the fist plunged through, jutting out of her like a skewer. Howling, Siri pressed her thighs together squeezing his forearm between them. She curled into a ball, sobbing faintly. They were quiet for a long time during which Choma listened to her breathe in sharp gasps, trying not to amp up the pain. He was elated. He didn’t want to, but he’d loved to make her scream for him.

The blood circulation in his hand had stopped due to her tightness and his hand was going numb. Siri writhed trying to get used to the fist piercing her body. She didn’t feel hollow and cold anymore, it was better, but she needed to feel safe now, she wanted him inside her, warm and strong. She wanted him to lay on top of her, cover her with his body and completely hide her from the world.

“I need you in me,” she sighed. “I have to have you inside me.” But how could she ask that of him. So many times in the past had she been turned down and now she really needed him and there was no safe alternative. Her coil had been due to replacement a year ago and no longer worked. Wincing she turned on her back and straightened her legs, his arm still sticking out of her cunt. She rose slightly and touched his fly. Choma was dumbfounded of her initiative, for her to ask more was the last thing he’d expected. She caressed his penis through the fabric and he grunted. He moved the hand inside her and Siri yelped but opened her legs for him. He had no patience for fisting any more though, and he pulled his hand agonizingly slowly out of her pink hole while she huffed and whimpered in pain.

She lay still, looking shy and vulnerable as he got up from the bed and removed his clothes. A small flicker of fear passed in her eyes when she saw his large cock, fully erect and demanding. He got on top of her, pinning down her shivering body. “Shh,” he whispered to her but she flinched as his penis poked her crotch. “Choma,” she said in distress, “Choma, Choma, Choma,” she repeated quickly and shoved him off her. When her hands were free she lifted them to her chest mimicking cradling a baby. Choma cursed furiously, don’t play with me princess, not now.

Siri turned timidly on her side and reached to stroke his cock. She ran her fingers along his shaft and continued to run them on her skin until they reached the cleft between her buttocks. “You could… here,” she mumbled shyly, not daring to look at him in the eye. It was so dirty and he was larger than she was usually willing to take in her ass. Yet it couldn’t be helped now – she wanted him too much. It took a while for Choma to understand her meaning and those moments out on a limb burned her. Please don’t hate me, please.

Choma had only once done what she was asking and have this innocent eyed girl shyly propose it drove him wild. He remembered Her and how she’d screamed when he ripped her apart. Roughly he rolled Siri on her stomach and lifted her ass up a little. “Choma,” she cried, her voice fearful, and reached for a bottle of hand cream. “Use this,” she whispered and settled back down, her body tight as a bow string. She jolted to the sound of the tube’s cap flicking open and waited for his hands to spread her plump cheeks. “Slow,” she repeated in five languages including Ukraine while Choma was lubing up. Her attempts to communicate were endearing but they couldn’t reach the savage beast taking over Choma’s mind. She felt small, lost and afraid and she needed him. Please Choma, she thought, make me safe. The entry would hurt even if he would be gentle, but after that, she knew, it would all be pure bliss.

She lay beneath him, prone, legs apart and reached her hands to spread herself for him. Her buttocks quivered just like in his fantasies as the tip of his cock touched her asshole and she flinched and immediately apologized for it. Her eagerness to get his cock to fulfil her most secret place was incredible. She whimpered when he started to push and the resistance of her little hole surprised him - he would need to push hard to get her gate to yield.

When he pushed harder she started pulling back. “Slow,” she yelped but he wanted in. He slid his hands just above her shoulders so she couldn’t move away from him. He applied strong steady pressure and felt the center give way and painfully slowly open wider. He kept on the same strong pressure and the girl started bucking and shouting. She reached for him with her hands and tried to push him off but he was stronger. He pushed on and stretched her ass despite her shrieking. It felt so good to have something that private of hers to yield to him.

The head of his cock plopped inside and Siri wailed, “Out! Out! Take it out!” She rolled over to her side and lay twitching and mewing with his cock inside her. Her hands were against his hips but it did no good to push him anywhere anymore, he was in. He wanted to stroke her hair and comfort her but on the other hand it turned him on to see her cower under him in pain.

Impatient to be completely buried inside her sweet body, he wanted to lunge inside her, to conquer her hidden depths and impale her on him. He’d finally own the lovely creature fallen into his life and all the strangeness of whys would be gone. Relishing in her grunts Choma pushed his thick shaft deeper into her young ass. First it resisted his intrusion but slowly her walls expanded and her colon gave way to the head of his cock and opened up. Siri grimaced but forced herself to relax her back passage for him. Her sphincter hurt badly but deeper his advances felt pleasant and she turned back onto her stomach. With big strong hands Choma grabbed her and obediently she rose her hips to meet his.

Siri gasped as Choma buried himself deeper with short strokes. It burned, him stretching her with every penetration, but Siri wanted him as deep inside her abused little fuck hole as he could manage. Finally he leaned into her so he could feed her his whole length and, enjoying the alien fullness inside her, Siri fucked back and endured the stomach cramps that resulted when Choma’s cock hit bottom. The pain was so beautiful and cured all aches and itches she’d harboured since waking up in his house.

Choma began working rhythmically, plowing in and out. Hot lines of pleasure flickered across his mind as the walls of Siri’s ass were dragging at him, sucking the cum from his balls. After all those days of frustration he couldn’t hold out for long and soon spewed his seed inside the slightly disappointed girl. She wanted to flop back on the mattress in her lovely warm fugue but felt too dirty to lay back and enjoy. She wrapped her towel carefully around her and walked barefoot to the stream where Choma had erected an old barn door for her privacy. On a little stool waited the basin which she filled up with the crisp cold water and poured and splashed on herself. She liked bathing outside, resting her eyes on the scenery as the water refreshed her but the plunge was never as easy for her as it was for Choma, who was used to washing in cold water.

***

Siri had been quiet since she got back in the house. She’d said nothing while they had breakfast and quickly turned her head away if their eyes met. Her embarrassment saddened Choma for there was no need for it. He used every chance and excuse to touch her and Siri accepted his clumsy displays of affection with nervous smiles but hardly looked up at him. Her ass had a comfortable ache reminding her how he’d gently but firmly broken through her confused resistance and pumped her full of the liquid that warmed her to the core. Yet she’d never gotten over the stamp of dirtiness sodomy carried and owning up to liking it came hard. The day passed slowly for both of them but come evening the competence Choma radiated had calmed her and when he touched her she reciprocated.

That night he took her to his bed. She felt like a sacrificial animal as Choma purposefully led her upstairs in complete silence.  He walked her past the smaller bedroom and into his own to stand in front of him. She was absolutely still, waiting for his lead, but careful not to in any way express unwillingness. Without a word Choma stripped her garment by garment, slowly tracing his nose on her bare skin savouring her softness and scent. He reached behind her and slid the elastic band off her braid. He carefully combed out her hair with his fingers until it tumbled down over her shoulders. The tips of the wavy strands touched Siri’s hardened nipples tickling her.

Choma couldn’t believe the nymph in his bedroom was real. She fidgeted and moved her arms to cover her breasts and crotch. The sudden change in their relationship, how ever welcome, scared her and it made her look so fragile Choma could hardly bring himself to touch her.

Her eyes were shut tight but she opened them when he took her face in his hands. How could she look so innocent and scared when it wasn’t twelve hours past she had groaned with his cock up her ass. She let him walk her to the bed and obediently lay down as he tucked her in. Standing at the foot of the bed he took off his own clothes while she watched.

Siri loved to close her eyes and surrender to him. Being powerless intoxicated her and with his coaxing her juices quickened. She wanted to shout at him to touch her or grab at his hands and put them on her flesh but it was exciting to give him all the control.

When his fingers stroked her awaiting pussy her body jolted and she gasped sharply. She moaned when he parted her lips and slid his fingers inside. The pocket was full of slick juice and Choma shivered – all that was for him.

Siri didn’t know what she had expected but when Choma rolled her on her stomach and lined his cock with her puckered little anus she let out a sharp cry, “No! Not there, it’s too soon, I’m hurting! No, please, no!” Choma didn’t’ care, he poured some of the hand cream on her and started pushing in as she squirmed in his grip and screamed.

Her sphincter resisted less than earlier and his cock lunged into the warm passage. He fucked her as he pleased in search for another orgasm and let her pleas and tears lift him into the bliss of coming ecstasy. After he came and pulled out, her tiny hole retracted and kept all of his thick cum inside, spilling nothing. “Good little angel, now let’s make you cum.” He turned her on her back and she didn’t resist when he opened her legs and rubbed a finger up and down the opening to her pussy.

Flicking her clit with his other hand Choma started pushing all five fingers inside her. Siri was quiet as she was still recovering from the assrape. Feeling filthy she wished only to be set free to clean herself up.

“What the hell is this?” His fingers fumbled inside her.

“Ouch,” Siri humpfed as Choma tugged at the chords of her contraceptive coil. “Stop! Youre hurting me!” Siri cried but Choma had a grip on the cords and pulled. It felt like a knife inside her belly as the the sharp plastic T bent into a Y and scratched and dragged the linings of her womb.

“Why didn’t I notice this the first time I had my fist up your lying little cunt?” Siri cried out but Choma held her still. “What’s this, girl? What are you keeping inside?” Choma was enraged, he’d been played a fool. She was working for them and god knows what stash he’d just found. “They’re keeping track of you? Or are you supposed to poison me?”

She tried to get away from him but Choma held her fixed. She was terrified and couldn’t understand what had angered him so. Her cervix didn’t want to give way to the coil and resisted opening up. Siri fought back as Choma tried to force the thing out. It had looked so tiny, no bigger than a postage stamp, when the gynaecologist had inserted it with a little straw all those years ago in the University clinic but now it felt anything but small. Yet her body was no match for brute force and the mouth of her cervix expanded to allow the coil inside the tight passage. The new pain gave Siri strength to amp up her resistance but it only earned her a hard smack from Choma and she almost passed out. Almost.

She lay dazed and wailing as the bloody plastic object was torn from her body without doctor’s skills, tools or pain relief. “What the fuck is this?” Choma yelled at her brandishing her coil and Siri had no idea why he was mad at her. Too much in pain to mimic cradling like last time this issue was on the table, Siri started singing the first lullaby that came into her swooning head. Choma stared at her obviously disgusted and stormed out of the room leaving her to bleed on the white cotton sheets.

***

Fuck, Choma thought, fuck, fuck, fuck. He had taken the little object into his workshop and studied it and finally smashed it into pieces. Certainly it was nothing dangerous and he had an ominous feeling that it was a contraceptive of some kind. Fuck. He’d hit the girl hard and was too ashamed now to go and see her.

Slowly he ascended the stairs and opened the door to the master bedroom. Siri was huddling under the duvet staring out the window with glassy eyes, humming the same song she had tried to convince him with. The mattress under her was badly stained with blood. When he came in she didn’t react. He sat on the bed and put the smashed coil on the nightstand clearing his throat. “I’m sorry little angel, I’m so sorry. I thought you were…” I thought you were what, a spy, an MP. “I’m sorry,” he said again and left the room.

Siri slept in the next day. Choma took meals and water to her but she hardly reacted to him. Fuck, did I spoil the whole god damned thing now? When ever he tried to touch her she recoiled as if waiting to be hit again. Jesus Christ, if I only could explain what happened, he cursed as if an explanation would guarantee forgiveness.

On the third night Choma got sick of her aloofness and started kissing and caressing her in the bed. She didn’t react in any way but let him fondle and make love to her. After she was oozing his semen from her rectum she simply turned to face the window again and went to sleep.

Next morning she wasn’t as icy though anymore, and during the day her behaviour warmed up to something closer to normal. In a few days they were almost where they had been before the incident. Still, there was no erasing it, and for Siri everything was different now she knew what rage lived inside him, and what she could invoke without even doing anything wrong. It had been a shock to get struck but the rest of it, now in hindsight, had actually been pretty thrilling. All that pain and being afraid of the one person she had trusted her wellbeing to.

Chapter nine

She was always fucking back, trying to get him even deeper. He rammed her hard but she never got enough. Broom handles, rough sticks, tools from his workshop, cold, hard, bulgy – she let him do anything. When he approached her during the day she turned her eyes down and blushed but when he grabbed her and tore her clothes off his finger always found her little snatch wet. She was embarrassed of herself but when he got her under him, trembling and confused, and started touching her, she soon lost control of herself and changed into the starving little creature that wanted nothing more than him inside her every hole. He’d fucked her face until she puked up bits of the summer’s first strawberries he’d so lovingly fed to her, and when she had caught her breath she’d pulled him back into her mouth.

Choma had no idea how far he could go before he would lose himself. At first he was uncomfortable to hurt Siri, seeing Her under him instead, but it didn’t take long for his passion to overrule any uneasy conscience. Siri was so intense she soon inhabited every part of his thoughts and drove ghosts away. After a good scare he soothed her and massaged her clit tenderly, making her feel safe and warm again. She was his to use and his to love and she was such a good girl.

Now he had her on all fours on the living room table. In a small bowl he had green baby tomatoes he was going to stuff inside her. She had obeyed him without question and her pussy eagerly slickening.

Her crotch was exposed to him and she waited quivering in anticipation what was to come. When the first tomato touched her rear entrance she squirmed and tried to turn around. She could tell it was not flesh against her skin. Choma put a hand on her head. “It’s ok angel.” He stroked Siri’s hair and she settled down. It made her nervous not to know what he was about to force in her tiny hole.

Choma stroked the raw vergetable over her bud and she tensed up each time. To her its surface felt like plastic. She felt his thumb rubbing spit on her and hoped the thing wasn’t anything too big, for after the first times Choma used no lube but his own spit. He liked it that way, intimate. If he was feeling generous he might scoop some of her juices to smear on her little backhole before going at it, but most of all, he liked to make Siri squirm under him and cry out when her tender flesh was stretched and torn. It was beautifully obscene to fuck her ass but it was driving him crazy and even angry not to know what her pulsing pussy would feel like gripping his cock. He could smell her heat and it was driving him mad to bathe his fingers in her but not being allowed a real fuck.

He didn’t open her up with a finger and just pushed the first tomato until it popped through. Siri yelped in surprise and tried to turn to look back again. “No baby, eyes closed, that’s it.” He took another one, sucked it wet and let it push the one before it deeper. She was visibly uncomfortable not knowing what was in her and by the third in some pain. Still, he inserted one more as she squirmed and whined. “Feeling full?” Siri didn’t answer and he asked a question he knew she understood. “Like it?” She still didn’t answer.

When his fingers touched her pussy she whinnied in surprise. “Let’s see how full you are.” With intentional roughness he shoved his fingers in her cunt and she moaned wantonly. Her vagina was welling with her excretions. “Good girl, you did like it.” She wanted to beg him to enter her cunt, the stretching his fingers caused was such teasing, but she didn’t want to live waiting in fear if her next period would ever come. He massaged the tomatoes through the thin membrane and she jerked from the slight stab of pain. “Easy girl, you’re not that full. Yet.”

Siri heard him open his fly and realized he was going to fuck her ass despite what was already in. She started pleading but Choma grabbed her waist and pulled her ass to him. “Spread it,” he ordered, but had to nudge with his knee before the girl understood what was expected of her. When he pushed the head in, giving her no time to adjust, she screamed as the tomatoes travelled deeper up her colon. Her moans grew in shrillness and intensity as the head of his cock pushed further and he started feeding her his shaft. She felt the resistance of her colon opening up for the chain of spheres. Her innards burned and she wept but Choma still had inches to go and she knew he’d bury each one in her. 

After opening her up Choma pulled out. Siri was in no state to resist as he pushed in a fifth tomato. He proceeded to fuck it in and had to use some force to get his whole length in her. When he was done he pulled out and added a sixth. Now Siri was howling and begging but she was too well trained to move from the position she’d been ordered to. “Good,” he said petting her hair, “good girl, now scream for daddy.” Siri moaned ruggedly, her hands clenching in pain. When he pushed the tomatoes deep with his cock she jolted and cried out. “That’s my sweet angel,” Choma mused.

Sweat beaded on her soft body as she tried to bear the pain she couldn’t stop or escape. He leaned down his cock still deep in her ass and whispered into her ear, “I love it how you let me hurt you.” She gasped when he pulled out and eased the strain of pressure on her insides. A seventh raw cherry tomato was pushed in her raw canal.  “Do you think there’s still room for me?” Choma growled and rammed in. He started fucking her like a beast, trying hard to make it as painful for her as possible. Siri’s resolve failed and she started kicking and screaming, trying to escape. Choma had to take a tighter hold of her to be able to continue burrowing deeper. 

A hand clamped on her mouth and Siri screamed into it, trying to tear it off to beg him to stop. She tried to stay him with her hands, to stop the brutal piston raping her, but her little arms were powerless to stop the crazed man. Unable to hold herself up longer Siri sank downwards to lay on the table to which Choma reacted by picking up her legs and fucking her in a wheelbarrow fashion.

She tried to tear free but his grip held and her fighting only made it necessary for him to be rougher. She put up a good fight, the pain driving her insane but there was nothing she could do against his brute strength.

Even though she ate nothing for the rest of the day she had terrible constipation and it took well to the next evening for her to poop out all seven tomatoes. She was lucky to get through her ordeal without a serious obstruction and a visit to a hospital. While writhing in pain and pushing out with her muscles she thought how much more cruel things Choma would come up with if she still would keep him out of her pussy.

Chapter ten

After the tomato episode Choma gave her a couple days to rest. However, after one by one getting each tomato out from her system Siri’s body soon started craving for more sex. He had made her feel so deliciously chastised and desired. The problem was, with only anal being possible, the need of prompt washing afterwards always took away the afterglow, the chance to just lie together, sweaty, out of breath and satisfied.

Denied a good fuck Siri teased Choma nonstop until on the evening of the third day Choma gripped her arm and marched the smug girl upstairs. He knew just what to do to wipe the grin from her face.

Siri laughed when Choma tore off her clothes and giggled when he threw her on the bed but when the head of Choma’s cock prodded her pussy lips she shouted, ”No Choma stop, it’s going the wrong way!” and dodged his penis. Choma tried again to rest the tip on the entrance to her pussy. Siri reached down to guide him to her naughty hole but Choma snatched her hand and returned it above her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Easy girl,” he said shaking his head. ”No, Choma, no,” she growled as he kept trying to enter her. “You know you can’t put it in there!”

She struggled him fiercely for ten minutes. Choma was breathing heavy, getting pissed at her obstinacy. “Calm down!” he shouted and forcefully spread her body open under him. Siri realized she’d never win the fight and moved on to begging, her rage evaporating to let fear in. Choma didn’t care, couldn’t care. He had to be in her. Finally. He could almost feel her soft warm folds around him. If she got pregnant then so be it but he had to have her now, truly have her, not just her ass.

“Shut up baby. You love my cock, I know you do. Now let me in. I’ll make you feel good. I’ll pump you full with my seed and you’ll thank me for it.” Choma pushed himself in and she wailed a “No,“ that extended into a shrill panicked cry until her voice broke and she slumped down. Tears streamed from her eyes as she lay limp and let him rape her.

Nothing they’d done before compared to the intimacy of being inside her pussy, not the eager little ass she offered to him so willingly, not her soft wet mouth. There was no better way to make a woman understand her situation than to spear her between her milky thighs and rape what was inside. He wanted to show her his strength: enough to take her, enough to protect her from anyone else trying to use her.

She wasn’t wet but damp like a bed of moss and for every one of his thrusts she gave an angry grunt and kicked the air behind him with her feet. Slowly from deep inside her some wetness emerged to ease his movements but it gave her no solace as he stuttered to her all the sensations her pussy offered him. Her infrequent outbursts of rage made her pussy twitch heightening Choma’s arousal.

Her façade wasn’t long lived. There was no denying the pleasure his cock in her neglected cunt gave her and gradually her grunts and moans got an added tone. First it was annoyance but soon it was clear she was enjoying his rough thrusts despite not wanting to. She wept at the thought of pregnancy yet bucked against him in need to have him deeper inside her. “Put a baby in me you bastard and I swear I’ll dump the squalling little monster on you and lea—.“ Her last word died in a wanton cry or pleasure and she grabbed his shoulders and slammed her hips towards the invading cock.

Choma moved his hands on her throat, he didn’t want to hear any more of her venom. He wrapped his fingers around her throat and she closed her mouth, understanding the threat. Siri was so beautiful, her face confused, lewd, angry and frightened all at the same time, contorted into expressions of lust and hunger. She kept her eyes closed, which bothered Choma, to make it real he had to have her look at him. He wanted to hold her gaze as he plunged inside and took her. He wanted her to see it was him spreading her pussy with a thick cock, him making her moan and spasm.

“I know you’re scared,” he spoke to her gently caressing the side of her head, “but you’re safe here, you’re safe with me, nothing bad will reach you here. You’re mine and I protect what’s mine.” He watched her face keenly and saw a single tear run down her soft rosy cheek. He wiped it away and in answer she lifted her legs and locked her ankles around his back. Her hands grabbed his upper arms, “Choma,” she whispered, squeezing his flesh when jolts of pleasure rocked her body. Her head was arched back and her mouth open. Loud, unrestrained moans flowed from her red swollen lips. The grip of her legs around him tightened and she pulled him to her. “Look at me, angel,” Choma coaxed, “look at me.” Siri grabbed the hair in his neck and pulled his face down to kiss her. As their lips met she opened her eyes and held his gaze as he continued his relentless pounding. “Fuck me honey,” she hissed in his ear, “I love it when you force me.”

Her confession sent bolts of pleasure soaring to his brain and he could feel the cum boiling in his balls. After a few desperate lunges he couldn’t hold back any more and humped uncontrollably until his cock started spewing out semen, filling her tiny vagina with hot white cum. Not stopping to breathe yet, he used her body to milk himself, burying all he had in his balls inside her. When finally done, Choma rolled over to lay on his back on the bed, head swimming with sensations.

Pussy welling with his seed she got up. Choma was too delirious to bother to stop her when she staggered outside, cum running down her thighs. He heard her retch on the landing outside. She could feel the semen working its way to her womb and she had no way to kill it. She didn’t want a baby, a leash, a noose around her neck. Pleasepleaseplease, she prayed as she sat in the stream trying to get water inside herself and wash out all he’d put in.

Choma stirred when Siri didn’t come back. He found her, wrapped in a quilt, hugging her knees on one of the armchairs in the living room. He unclutched her hold on the blanket and when he pulled it aside he saw nothing running from her opening, nothing smeared on her thighs. “Who said you could wash?” he growled, angry that she had so carelessly washed his mark away.

His finger travelled to play with her labia. She jolted and tried to turn away but with his other hand he held her still. It’s ok Siri, I’ll take you to a doctor tomorrow, he thought but said nothing to alleviate her angst. She moaned in derision as he went on fingering her. His fingers squeezed the clit their fucking had left sensitive. She tried to get off the chair but he pushed her back. “Be still, I don’t want to make you but I will if you resist.” She sat back down, but her body didn’t relax, she was tense and uncomfortable as he fucked her with his fingers.

He pulled her by her legs to the edge of the seat. “You’re dry again angel, that won’t do. Spread your legs.” She didn’t understand anything he said, but it didn’t matter. He arranged her body as he wished and lifted her legs on his shoulders. Her sex was splayed in front of him.

He fingered her until she was glistening wet. He spread the wetness around and begun rubbing her swollen clit. The sensations coursing along her nerves overwhelmed her, and smiling blissfully she twitched under his touches. Siri felt the heavy tension of an orgasm building and it caused her whole body to seize until a whirlwind climax tore through her and she screamed and heaved as Choma went on rubbing her oversensitive nub.

He wanted to have her again and make it right this time. His semi hard cock was barely stiff enough to get it in her but Choma helped it with her hand. Inside the newly orgasmed cunt it soon gorged itself back to full erection. Siri was limp and groggy and easy to maneuver to lean over the couch. Choma slipped his cock back inside and petted her tousled hair. ”Perhaps I won’t take you to the doctor after all. Perhaps I’ll fuck you every day until I get you pregnant. I’ll watch you waddle with your big belly and bend you over to rape you again and again. When the baby comes I’ll watch you scream as it tears through your cunt. Maybe I’ll fuck you in the ass while you’re in labour, would you like that angel?” He knew she didn’t understand and better that way for he didn’t mean her to, but the thought made him harder and accelerated his second orgasm. It was painful, trying to cum again so soon, but he wanted to mark her, have her smeared with his semen. He grabbed her hair and spoke into her ear, ” I’m leaving everything I’ve got buried as deep inside you as I can go, and this time you’ll keep it all in, angel.”

His milk spurted and he kept stroking in and out, coating her cunt until he was too limp to get in anymore. “Good girl,” he huffed and walked the meek girl by the hand back to the master bedroom. The jizz leaking out from her pussy made slick sounds the whole way as she tried to squeeze her legs together to keep it from dripping on the floor.

On the bed there was still one thing Choma wanted to do. He nudged her thighs and obediently Siri spread her legs for him. She groaned as Choma’s fingers entered her but stayed still when he told her to. “I want it everywhere angel,” he whispered as his fingers slid back and forth, rubbing and poking at her cervix. “It’ll work inside you all night.” Silent tears ran down Siri’s face when Choma closed her in his arms for the night.

***

For once Siri woke before Choma. She slipped from the bed and walked to the stream. She waded in, sat on the sand bottom and opened her legs to the cleansing stream. She had barely sat down as she saw Choma walking down from the house. He removed his towel and got in with her, sitting just behind her to hold her in his arms. “Dobrogo ranku,” good morning, he rasped playing with her breasts and Siri gasped, “Huomenta.” The fear of pregnancy was still a knife in her gut but Choma’s playful good mood swept her with it and she laughed as a hand travelled down her stomach to stroke her slit. ”We have somewhere to go I want you clean for my friend.”

It was the second time Choma took her with him to the village Pidmanove. They passed Oleg’s cannery and stopped in front of an office. Inside she found a doctor’s waiting room and Choma touched her stomach and whispered, “I promised you were safe with me.” While filling up the paperwork Siri shivered thinking how much of the past days activities the doctor could see as marks on her body.

Dr Savchuk had heard of Choma taking in the wandering girl, but the thought of them having a sexual relationship was disturbing. Frankly he had thought Choma to have more sense. When the girl walked in his office he couldn’t help noticing that she was very tense. He wondered if she was merely nervous to see him or if there was something wrong with her situation. After shaking hands he led her to sit down.

“So, Miss Lavonen, how can I help you?” he started and Siri bristled to hear her own name – she’d almost convinced herself that Enni never existed. A well educated man, the doctor spoke excellent English, but it did little to ease bringing up the topic.

“I need,” she took a long pause staring at her hands until she got mad at herself for acting a child and looked the doctor straight in the eye almost defiantly, “I need contraception.” It was the doctors turn to pause.

”Listen, Miss, Choma Danylovych is an old friend. I’d hate to see him used ill. I can’t say I understand the situation that well, but what ever your plans are, I hope you’ve made them clear to him.”

“You presume too much Doctor. Besides how do I make anything clear to someone who doesn’t understand what I say?”

“He understands more than you think. Just talk to him.” Savchuk spread his hands, “Well, I take it you’ve been in this situation before. What was your previous method of birth control?”

“I’ve had a contraceptive coil, if possible I’d want one such now. I don’t want pills, too many side-effects.”

“I see. Hmm, I don’t keep an extensive stock of supplies, especially this sort. But as one of my patients recently changed her mind about having a third child I have one here now. You have children, Miss Lavonen?” The question and his tone were equally condescending.

“No, I don’t. My doctor was of the opinion it wasn’t a requirement to have a coil,” She answered more snappish than was necessary, for a doctor with such an opinion had not been easy to find.

“It would certainly make it easier. Was the insertion painful?”

“Of course it was,” se huffed, “but not unbearable.”

Savchuk asked her further about her menstruating and health in general. He was a genial man but nonetheless Siri only wanted the visit over with and answered him tersely.

“You see Miss Lavonen, I don’t know what kind of a coil you had or the size of it. The one I have isn’t such a modern item as doctors in your home country have access to. Present-day coils are considerably smaller than what coils used to be and what we still use. In Ukraine putting a coil for someone that hasn’t given birth is quite unheard of. A bigger problem than my professional opinion is that I don’t have any equipment. The nearest sonographic machine is in Shatsk. Without one the insertion gets considerably more complicated, not to mention painful, especially with your birth canal.” Siri’s expression changed from hopeful to fearful. “Think carefully, there are other options and I can explain the situation to Mr Vasylenko for you if you so wish. Are you sure another coil is what you want?”

“Yes,” she said uncertainly, “I am. But please Dr Savchuk I assume patient records are confidential in Ukraine as well, but can you please tell me he’s healthy. As we—I don’t want to get—” she turned to look away, “I don’t want to get ill.”

“I’m sorry, but that you must ask from Mr Vasylenko himself. I can’t tell you what to do, but I’m here to give advice. To my knowledge you’ve known each other less than a month and to me this kind of a decision seems very hasty. You could take time to consider your options and come back if you decide you want the coil.”

She was scared by everything he’d said but the need to have Choma inside her was stronger than fear of pain. “I thank you for your concern, but I’d like it done now.”

“For the last time, I want to remind you, this will be extremely painful. Are you sure you want this?”

Her back was rigid with fear but she nodded. Lying on a gynaecologists table all exposed was enough to nauseate her at any time but under these circumstances it was so much more humiliating. What the doctor must think of me, she rued.

“I suggest you ask Choma in. I’ll need his help to restrain you and you’ll need all the support you can get. I can’t say I wholly approve his allowing you to go through with this.”

He called Choma in and gave him a shortened version of their conversation in Ukrainian. From his sharp tone Siri assumed he also gave him his opinion on putting coils in girls that haven’t given birth, generally irresponsible sexual behaviour and mostly of reckless decisions made by grown men while blinded by lust.

She had to get naked from the waist down and though Dima had seen her naked dozens of times his presence only made the situation more humiliating. The Doctor attached stirrups to his examination table and both men turned their heads discreetly as she walked to the table and lay down on it. The doctor guided her feet to the stirrups and had her inch down until her hips were just on the edge of the table. It was an instinct to cover herself, and she had unknowingly brought her thighs together and the doctor had to part them for her. Choma was standing right behind her head and she felt his eyes on her. It was horrible to have him see another man touching her.

 “Are you comfortable Miss?” asked Dr Savchuk.

 A god damned stupid question, thought Siri but nodded stiffly.

“Good. Don’t be alarmed, I’ll put a restrainer belt around your waist. As I proceed with the insertion your body might reflexively convulse and with my tweezers inside you there’s a risk you’ll stab yourself on them and be injured.”

Siri’s skin crawled as she was strapped down but his reasoning was indisputable. Still, the sound of the buckle closing made her twitch and Choma squeezed her shoulders like saying, “It’s ok.”

She tried to convince herself she was safe, Choma was with her and Mr Savchuk was a doctor but her helplessness didn’t allow her terror to abate. She saw a strange room in a strange country with two strange men looming over her restrained naked body. She wanted to scream for them to let her go, but forced down the impending panic. She made herself remember why she was here. She sought out Choma’s hand and when he squeezed her fingers reassuringly she remembered what it was like to have him inside her and filled her head with his weight on top of her.

“Now Miss Lavonen, I’ll begin.”

She hadn’t heard the snap of latex and realized he was going to put his hand inside her naked. It was an unpleasant thought not to have the clinical glove as a barrier between a doctor and a patient, making the touch as asexual as possible, but facilities and practices in rural Ukraine were not up to those in Finland.

She had tensed up and her whole body jolted as the doctor’s finger prodded for her opening. Choma shushed her stroking her hair.

“It’s ok,” said the Doctor, “I’m just making the preliminary examination. I’ll warn you when I start inserting the coil.”

When he peeled open her labia to insert his fingers in her vagina he saw abrasions on her mucosae and bruising around her opening. He frowned and instinctively glanced at the man standing by the woman’s head, feeling very uncomfortable. He regretted having Choma present for he felt like he should ask the girl about her hurts.

He inserted his fingers deep inside the woman and examined her thoroughly. Not finding anything abnormal, he inserted the specula, gave the patient the heads up and picked up the coil in his tweezers. She was brave and started moaning only when he started poking around the bottom of her vaginal cavity in search of her cervix. He could view his goal in the opening of the specula, but when he started to insert the coil his hand obstructed all vision. Savchuk tried for several minutes ignoring her distress until the first traces of blood appeared on the tweezers.

“Miss, how are you feeling? There’s some bleeding. Do you wish to stop this?”

“Do it,” was all Siri could manage.

Savchuk grimaced but tried again. His patient cried out in pain regularly as he pushed the coil in her tender flesh. He didn’t want to fail in the attempt after what she had already gone through and kept pushing the tweezers deeper waiting to hit her cervix.

After several more minutes the Doctor sighed and pulled out. “I can’t afford to poke you blind anymore,” he said in an I-told-you-so tone. “You’re bleeding too much. This might feel uncomfortable but I will insert my fingers in your rectum and guide the tweezers from there. Try to relax, I’m sure this will be over soon.”

It was degrading but Siri was too hurt to contradict, all she wanted was for the pain to stop. She breathed in sharp gasps as Choma’s breaths were heavy, almost rasping. He was obviously agitated. Dr Savchuk’s finger prodded her anus and again against her conscious efforts her body tried to escape the invasion but the belt kept her still. All she had to experience was made more horrible by the knowledge that if it was a fantasy she’d be wet and masturbating. The irrational fear of the doctor somehow sensing her sexual thoughts made her grasp at any other thought in her mind.

She drifted to another doctor’s office, in another country, in a mental ward of a hospital and a succeeding six weeks during which the mad world outside the hospital hadn’t grown any less greedy or tragic. But here it was different, here she didn’t have to think about any of it, here was Choma and when he fucked her that world, in which everything was her problem, didn’t exist. All this pain had a purpose.

The Doctor’s finger weaselled in, pulled back and returned as two and then three. Her well used back door didn’t resist much and she was ashamed for the doctor would guess why. The fingers moved around and she groaned in shame and discomfort. Choma’s hands were rigid on her shoulders, his fingers dug into the thin layer of flesh on her bones. He’d stopped talking to her and just breathed loudly. The Doctor’s fingers touched the pincers through the thin membrane separating her anal and vaginal cavities. The movement of the pincers got more deliberate and soon the pain of random stabs to her bloody insides changed into the agony of cutting her flesh as Dr Savchuck found her cervix and started pushing the new coil through the closed canal into the small pouch of her womb. She cramped and thrashed and the belt bit into the soft flesh of her belly.

Holding her down while another man made her scream dimmed Choma’s reason and his cock swelled. Like all the amends he’d tried to make suddenly came to nothing. He could see blood on the doctor’s fingers and wished he’d make her scream out loud again. The blood took him back at the unit and her struggle against the strap made him wild. His mind wandered and he saw Yevhen fucking her while he gagged her with his cock and a third man inserting torture implements in her defenceless rectum. Since the doctor was present he pulled himself together. He talked softly into her ear, but what he really wanted to say was how hard her pain distorted face was making him, how he wanted to fuck her bloody pussy and lick tears from her reddened face, how he wanted to force things into her ass – bigger and bigger – and see her body squirm in agony. Then he’d feed her his cock all the way down her throat and make her gag on it.

Innumerable horrible things had happened under soviet rule. He was one of them, in detention centre Volkov 27. What ever they did to the arrested men was nothing compared to what was done for their wives and grown daughters. Choma had seen women raped until they lost their minds. The guards had been kept in training until the atrocities they witnessed moved them no longer, until they believed it was necessary and justified for the greater cause, for the good of all the Soviet Union. He loathed himself for letting their brainwashing get to him and even more for enjoying his power over the captives and relishing in the cruelty. Those three years were enough to deem his soul forever to hell.

He’d stood guard as the wolves raped the women until they were too traumatized to speak. Then they’d cut them or use the special built machines to begin again their screams and terror. Beatings, injections, enemas, electric shocks and fire – anything, until the torturers achieved complete breakdown, body and soul. The ‘interrogations’ were recorded and the tapes played for the victims' husbands and fathers, the screams ringing in their cells until the men said and signed whatever the Commander wanted them to. Wolves, Volkov was full of them.

One night a daughter of a captive, stripped, fondled and insane with fear, pleaded to Choma’s better nature to help her. She was scared witless though all the officers so far had done was to threaten her. What he’d done to that young woman never left him alone after that night. The MPs locked him up in isolation for three days and those hours in the dark were a wake up call, the revelation that made him see what kind of a man he’d made of himself. When they let him out there was no investigation, no disciplinary actions. Everywhere he was greeted with smirks and pats in the back and it made him sick. By deserting with Volkov’s politically sensitive personnel files he’d in one action written his own death sentence and bought a chance for a different life.

Choma couldn’t believe he’d done a thing like that. That man was a stranger yet it was him. All these years he’d kept him buried but this girl had prodded his demons awake and now this. He cursed himself for ever entering Yevhen’s office.

The rest of the visit was a haze. Siri came to in the car when the doctor gave his last instructions. “I know the bleeding looks bad but it should slow in a few hours. If it doesn’t you should come back here. And this is clear without saying, but with all your haste I’ll say it anyway: no intercourse for at least three days. You need time to heal Miss Lavonen.”

Though Choma drove carefully, the ride with all the bumps in the road was agony. Every jump made her feel the alien object inside her, poking at her belly. At the homestead Choma watched her laboured walking. She’d groaned and mewed stepping out of the car and her face cringed so enticingly as she made her way to the door. He tried to find his calm. He tried to find the state of mind in which the girl was fragile, a thing to be protected. Instead his head filled with interrogation rooms and his bloody cock coming out of her gaping hole. His blood rushed to his cock, swelling it until it was so engorged the stretching of his skin ached. He knew if he just got inside her his cock would be a stabbing knife where the piece of metal in her womb would bite her.

Chapter eleven

In the end reason won, backed by the fact that a second visit to Yevhen‘s clinic would rise the good Doctor’s suspicions. Three days was a long time to keep away from Siri and to pass the time he often left the house to deliver machines back to their owners. He always explained where he was going but Siri hardly understood more than when he’d be back.

It was a warm day and Siri put on the sundress she’d brought with her and went behind the workshop to pick strawberries. She had two crates full when she heard a car approaching. It wasn’t even noon yet so Choma was early. With a giddy feeling Siri ran to welcome him home. It’s the third day today, perhaps we can... But the car wasn’t his or Larisa’s. It was another banged up truck but there were three strange men in it. She didn’t like it and backed slowly towards the door.

The men stepped out of the car and all greeted her politely. They smiled at her apprehensive stance at the doorstep and joked among themselves. They walked closer and the driver, Rustam Ilkovych, asked her where Choma was, “I thought he was expecting us.” The girl, he could see, was already nervous and obviously didn’t understand.

Searching for words Siri tried to say in Russian that if they wanted Choma he wasn’t there. “Here soon,” she lied.

Their presence made her feel unsafe. The driver motioned the two to stay put and approached her. She knew she was probably being ridiculous but instinctively she opened the door and stood just inside it, ready to slam it shut. “No Choma now,” she said to the driver in poor Ukrainian and loathed herself for the obvious fear in her voice.

Rustam laughed and lifted his hands up, “Easy, easy,” he said keeping his hands in front of him and inched closer. “I just want to talk to you.” She didn’t like his tone or the leers on the others’ faces. She stepped back and slammed the door shut but the fumbling with the old fashioned lock was too slow and she didn’t have time to turn the clumsy key before the man yanked the door open and her tight grip on the handle had her fall in his feet.

Rustam smiled wickedly and offered Siri his hand, ”All we want is a little hospitality. The whole village knows you’re his whore.” Siri aimed a kick at his thigh but failed to get him out of the door.

“Kost, Drijka, move!” Rustam barked in a steely voice. “She’s putting up a fight.” He lifted her head from the hair and snarled at her, their faces almost touching, “I’m gonna have me some of what he’s been getting. Don’t worry, it’s just as easy to spread your legs for us as it is for him.” Kostyantin and Andrij grabbed her arms and hauled her up. “Where you come from? Eh? Where you come from?” He looked at his friends and laughed. ”The bitch doesn’t understand a thing. Man, Choma has a good thing going, a tight little pussy eager to bend over and none of the nagging.” He leaned close again “If it’s cock you want you could’ve found younger meat. Don’t worry, we’ll give you a ride you won’t forget.”

Siri moaned and her body started heaving with sobs. “That’s a good little whore. That much you understand,” he said and squeezed her crotch through her clothes. Siri, hanging from Kostyantin’s and Andrij’s grip, screamed and kicked with her feet. “That’s it bitch, I tried to be nice. Take her through there, let’s get that dress off.”

Siri cried at the top of her voice. She called for Choma hoping against hope that it could bring him to her. The men let her scream, Choma didn’t have neighbours for miles and miles as far as she knew. “No!” she wailed as their hands started pulling at her dress. They laughed and mocked her with their harsh language. She tried to stop them but their six hands were all over her and they pulled the dress over her head.

She wanted to curl up to hide her body from them, but their hands kept her arms pulled wide and both Kostyantin and Andrij had a foot spreading her legs apart. Andrij had her hands pinned over her head and Kostyantin was cutting the straps of her bra with a knife. She heaved her body left and right, trying to pull free, but the men were strong.

“Fuck,” swore Kostyantin, “I cut her.”

“Don’t be a pussy, it’s just a nick,” spat Rustam.”I wanna see her boobs.” His hand travelled up her leg. “The old man must have his hands down your collar all the time, eh bitch? Does he let you wear clothes at all? I bet he’s a real dog.”

Siri was blinded with panick. She could think of nothing but their dirty hands on her. Andrij was licking her face and kissing her roughly. He stuck his tongue in her mouth and it tasted like vodka. Kostyantin mauled and kneaded her breasts sinking his fingers into her tender soft flesh. The third assault came from below where Rustam had knelt in front of her spread legs. He’d been massaging her sex through her panties, smelling the scent of her warm crotch. He’d taken the knife from Kostyantin and slid it slowly up from her ankle to her thigh. He slid it under the side seams and cut off her last piece of garment. Her cries of protestation went ignored as fingers travelled up her thigh towards her pussy lips.

“Fuck! Stay still cunt or I’ll stab you,” Rustam bellowed. “I don’t mind fucking your corpse as long as you’re still warm. Kost, smear some of that blood on her face, see if she understands.” When Kostyantin lifted his bloody hands in front of her face and Rustam pressed the edge of the knife on her slit, she froze.

Knowing she was going to lose the sovereignty of her own body for forever, defeatism overtook her.  Her heart sank and she could see in her mind how they would bend her over and rape every hole she had in her body. “That’s better,” Rustam smirked as Kostyantin and Andrij turned to look down at his hands. Siri’s groans were shrill as the fingers slithered closer to her crotch.

Tears streamed on her cheeks. She wouldn’t be able to live with their touch on her. She’d never be able to wash them away or forget them on her. She wailed as she thought her heart was breaking. Choma, they’ll take away everything.

The alertness of the sensory nerves on her labia sharpened into an unbearable tension as the fingers reached her slit. I can’t let him in. Rustam talked to her as if she was loving it. “Don’t cry baby, I know you’re wet inside. Don’t hide from me.” Her skin crawled and she cried out for Choma in tears.

Rustam parting her lips and the finger invading her vulva exploded Siri’s panic. In one roar she let out all her desperation, anger and fear. She kicked out and smashed her knee on Rustam’s grinning face. Simultaneously she heaved her body, yanking herself free from the two men pinning her to the wall, and the men - gawping at the howling Rustam - lost their grip on her.

“Get the bitch!” Rustam roared holding his broken nose, “I’ll kill her.” Almost toppling over in her panic haste she managed to lunge for the basement door. Yanking the key with her, she slammed the door shut on her tormentors. Her momentum threw her to tumble down the stairs. On the bottom she hit the shelves knocking down some boxes while upstairs the men cursed her and pounded on the door.

In a few minutes they frustrated with her and Siri heard the door bang and soon after a car driving away. She looked at the mess she’d made. Papers and files cluttered the floor. A little scared she picked one up. They were written in Russian, personnel files with pictures of soldiers. She couldn’t read the old-fashioned handwriting and started to stack them back to the box.

One of the faces was Choma’s. The name was the same as in the dictionary he’d given her. It had belonged to a Vakhno Palahnyuk, but when she’d asked who it was, Choma had said he was dead. Siri was confused, they could have been twins and yet a brother would surely have the same surname. She sat in the cellar until she heard the floor above her creak with steps. First she thought the men had come back, but the steps were slow rather than aggressive.

***

The books he’d left on the living room table were strewn on the floor among muddy footprints and one of the chairs had been thrust aside from its usual place. He saw Siri’s ripped dress thrown on the drawer and her underwear on the floor. “Siri,” he uttered and then called, “Siri?!” Retracing his steps he found more signs of struggle from the hallway, where a faint noise halted him. He shouted her name once more and stopped to listen, the sound came from beneath him. He raced to the back end of the hall but the basement door had no key. “Hold on!” He shouted and fetched the spare key from the kitchen.

When he got the door open she was calling his name in a pathetic little voice. He found her wrapped in his winter coat sitting on a rough wooden chest. Her hair was tousled and she had obviously been crying. She hid her face from him as he approached but didn’t stop repeating his name. When he stood next to her and put his arms around her she grabbed him like a drowning person and buried her face under his arm. “What happened?” he asked, so shocked at the state of her he almost asked her in English.

She was completely naked under the coat, her little tender nipples hard in the cold room. There were smears of rusty brown on her chest and a bloody crust on a cut beneath her left breast. “Jesus, you’re hurt. Where are your clothes?” He tried to get her to look at him but she refused. From somewhere in his shirt she whimpered in the smallest voice, “They touched me,” and the last word mingled into a mewing moan of anguish. In an instant rage ripped through his whole being. Someone had been there and they had molested her. “What happened?” She answered him only with shrill keening. Her sense of dirtiness intensified with his touch. Her crotch burned her and she tore herself away from his grasp.

He lifted her into his arms wishing he could have done it more gracefully, but his old bones lacked the practise of Prince Charming. How did I ever get her here from the moor, he thought as his knee joints ached when he staggered up the basement chairs. He put her down on the sofa as he had the night he found her. She had lit up his grey existence and the rage of someone daring to defile her tore him so violently it was hard to concentrate on helping her. He’d find out who they were and he’d make them pay. The girl was shocked and unable to tell him what they had done. He feared the worst and saw her screaming and crying while those beasts held her down and raped her everywhere. “They’re dead men.”

Somehow he managed to get the girl upstairs. While he fetched a bowl of water and a cloth, she’d curled into a ball on the bed and he had to coax her to lie back. He could understand her sense of filthiness, he’d seen it often enough.

“Take this.”

She turned her head away, disgusted by the alcohol smell of the horilka. “I don’t drink.”

“You do now, it’s medicin.”

Reluctantly she swallowed the liquid that felt more like gasoline in her throat, burning. Choma moist the cloth and started to wash her slowly, talking to her all the time. “I’ll lift your arm a little, it’s ok. I’ll rinse this. Shh. I’ll wash your shoulders next. It’s ok. It’s just water.” She relaxed and let him wipe the sharpest edge of her violation from her skin.

“Open your legs baby, it’s safe. I’ll help you, I’ll take it all away. You can do it.” He nudged her thighs gently. “It’s just you and me here. Let me make it better.” She snivelled but parted her thighs obediently as he knew she would. “Good girl, I’ll make it better.” There was no mess, no blood. Her little pussy was so vulnerable. She mewed as his cloth approached and he shushed her. He pressed the warm cloth against her slit and slid it along her lips. He did this several times. Rinsing and wiping again and again until her whimpers died down. He put his other hand on her lips and parted them, she tensed up immediately. “Angel, it’s just you and me, remember.” She nodded, her eyes still shut, and tried to relax but only managed halfway there.

Choma spread her vulva open before his eyes and rubbed her with the cloth. She twitched a little but didn’t complain. “Did they hurt you? Did they touch you here?” She answered in English “Three. No. They held me down I,” her voice broke, “I couldn’t –“ and she sobbed again. Choma lay his head down and kissed her thigh. His hand cupped her mound. “I’ll take it away, trust me.” She nodded. He pressed his head on her moist pussy and whispered, “What ever it was they touched in you, I’m going to take it back.” He stroked her slit with his nose, parting her lips. When he reached her opening he nudged it with the tip of his nose. She twitched and he shushed her, putting his hands on her thighs to keep her still. He sticked his tongue out and tasted her.

Siri grabbed Choma’s hair. “Please no, I feel so dirty. Don’t touch me when I’m like this.” Choma shushed her and licked slowly. His tongue dipped inside her hole and dragged on her pussy. Gradually the imprints of Choma’s touches covered and dimmed the handprints of the three men on her skin. “Please Choma, make it yours, I want it to be yours, only yours.” She reached for his arms and pulled him on top of her.

His penis was semi erected but her proposal made it harden in one shudder that rocked his body. To have her want and beg for him felt so good. Those were the moments she was his like no other had ever been. Which ever date of birth stood on her passport, in her mind she was still a child needing to be held and filled with the feeling of not being alone in the darkness. He positioned himself on top of her. She shivered slightly and he kissed her forehead. “It’s just you and me here.”

“Please Choma, wipe them away, be in me and chase them all away. Give me your cum.” She spread her thighs wider and reached down to spread her pussy for him. “Make me yours Choma, make me yours.” He forgot tenderness and rammed inside her while she screamed in satisfaction. “More Choma, harder, own me, please, I need you.” There was desperation in her sudden need, for her voice broke again with her last words and she wept, tears rolling on the pillow on both sides of her head as he fucked her. Nonetheless, she kept asking him to do it harder and faster.

“Make it hurt Choma, I want you to make it hurt. Take me hard, make me yours. I want to be only yours.” He  grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him, making his cock go in as deep as it could in that position. She screamed in pain and still begged him to hurt her more. Too late he understood what she was doing and stopped. “Move! Fuck me!” she cried in a shrill angry voice, she opened her eyes and her gaze was furious, blazing. “Fuck me you bastard! Fuck me!”

He lowered himself on top of her, leaning all his weight on her. He moved his lips to her ear. “I’m not them. You are mine. You’ll always be mine. Always. Nothing will change that. You don’t need to punish yourself. You’ve done nothing wrong.” She grunted in anger and tried to throw him off her but he was stronger. “You did nothing wrong. It wasn’t your fault. You want me inside you, you’ll get me but not like this.”

“Fuck you,” she whispered and her chest heaved with sobs again. Choma rose and wriggled inside her for a moment to get himself fully erect again. He started moving slowly in her. She tried to buck against him but when she did he stopped altogether. “Please Choma, take me hard,” she kept asking and he kept refusing. “I won’t punish you. I just want to wipe it away from your mind. Don’t be afraid, I’ll never leave you alone again. I want you and I’ll keep you. I’m sorry angel, I really am.”

He fucked her slow and though it wasn’t what she wanted she stopped cursing him for it. When she lay still for him he told her to get on her knees. Choma reached his hand on her mouth. “This is me, this is all me,” he whispered and speared her. She screamed in pain as he knew she would and the hand didn’t muffle her shriek much. He slammed himself against her ass taking advantage of the position he could penetrate her the deepest. She screamed and bucked and tried to escape but he had her tight in his grip. “You wanted hard, this is hard, you wanted more, this is more. I’m taking what’s mine. Scream baby, let me hear you hurt. He lifted his hand and listened to her panicked screams. “Please Choma, please,” were all the words she could form.

He grabbed her braid and pulled her head back. “Still want harder? You’re a little whore, but you’re my whore, mine alone. No one else has the right to call you that, you’re only mine.” She groaned loudly as he quickened his pace close to cumming. “My. Whore. My. Angel,” he stammered in the rhythm of his laboured breathing. “Say it!” He slapped her on her butt and she yelped. “I’m your whore!” she shouted, desperate to please. “Again.” “I’m-your-whore. I’m-you’re-whore.” Each word came out as another of his thrusts hit the bottom of her cunt until he bellowed and Siri felt his hot cum spurting into her. Cursing, the shuddering man collapsed beside her and Siri lay down beside him. He’d spoken without thinking and wasn’t sure what he’d let slip.

Word by word, uttered with tears, he got the story out of her. “Bastards. Beasts.” She’d whispered two names with hateful spite, the rabid lapdogs of Rustam Ilkovych. He thanked heavens she was able to escape or they’d have shattered her soul and killed her warm heart inside her living body. He’d met three hollow ruins that were the girls unfortunate enough to have no one to protect them from beasts like Rustam. It would have been kinder to kill them than leave them alive, which was the only reason they lived.

***

In the evening Siri approached him with the dictionary. “Liar,” she whispered faintly. “You speak English. Propably Russian too. It’s you, isn’t it. Vakhno.” The name was difficult to pronounce, “Who are you? All this time you knew what I was saying and you didn’t answer me once. Don’t you understand how alone I was without no-one to talk to?”

Now he was sure he’d lapsed in his dizzy spin of desire and spoke English to her. He didn’t want to meet her gaze and admit that he hadn’t trusted her. “Enni, we all have pasts somewhere. When it’s dangerous or sad, it’s better no one knows.”

He’d used her real name and she realized that he’d gone through her things at some point. “The Doctor knows.” No sooner were the words out than she realized how childish she sounded.

“He thinks he knows, it’s not the same.” Those were the only words of English Siri got from him though she was sure he could have spoken perfect English had he wished to.

Chapter twelve

Larisa came by to fetch some eggs and return the scarf Siri had forgotten on her visit the previous day. Choma had had errands that couldn’t wait and kept to his promise not to leave her alone again. She had spent the day at the farm of Larisa and her family.

They were all having tea in Choma’s kitchen when Larisa changed the subject to local gossip. “I wonder if you’ve heard there’s been an accident at Hordiyenko farm.  All three farm hands are in Shatsk hospital - the strangest injuries I’ve ever heard a harvester make. Rustam Ilkovych was unconscious when old Danylets found the boys. It’s not known if he’ll ever wake up. And our Doctor Savchuk was so busy he wouldn’t see them and sent them straight to Shatsk. That was strange.”

Choma said nothing and hid behind his mug. Young Rustam had been strong but he didn’t have Choma’s training. The pain of knowing that Siri had cried for help and he hadn’t been there for her, ate him from inside out. All that guilt he took out on him. Choma hadn’t planned to kill him, but when he saw his leer he thought of him and his friends spreading Siri naked against the wall, and the terror and shame he’d barely been able to get her to let go. Rage blurred the world around him and he’d beaten him until he fell and kept kicking him until his face was but a bloody mess.

Siri heard many names and it was difficult to pretend clueless until Larisa left. She’d heard their names. Larisa had had a weird look on her face. Siri wondered if she knew what had happened to her and felt sick. Night came too soon and they sat in the bed both waiting for the other to speak first.

“You killed them, didn’t you?” Her voice was cold.

Choma closed his eyes and sighed. “I tried to kill him.”

“Don’t you understand,” she screamed grabbing at him, “I don’t want to lose you Choma. You’ll go to jail.”

“He’s a monster. No one will say anything - another farming accident. Should he die the village will be the safer for it. He deserved it.” A pause. “Siri,” Choma’s voice thickened, “he had no right.” He was afraid he’d choke if he tried to say any more and lay his hand on her head, pulling her closed to lean his chin on her head.

“But to kill a person?”

“Trust me, compared to what he was going to do to you his faith is merciful. Siri,” he turned to look away, “I’m not a good man. You saw the files. I was a soldier. Killing was my job. That and worse things.” He took her hand and looked at her, “He tried to hurt you. No one does that.”

There was nothing Siri could have said to that. Her hatred for Rustam was bitter but murder was incomprehensible, unreal. Yet she felt more his than ever and whispered, “Hold me.”

They sat in silence for a long time. None of it was her business but it was getting harder to keep secrets from her. At last he told her about his military service and the interrogation center he’d been assigned to.

“I raped her and god help me I enjoyed it. I called other guards in and we took turns on her, eleven men for five hours, using batons and guns to rape her when no cock would stand up anymore. I left when she stopped moving but the others called in more and more men to use her and by the morning she was dead.”

Siri didn’t say a word and didn’t even look at him when he got up and left. Hours later she opened the door to the half lit workshop. On the workbench in front of Choma stood a tiny glass and a half empty bottle of horilka.

 “I want to hate you but I can’t.” She took the glass from his hands and squeezed them, “Neither can I forgive you on her behalf, but I’m not ready to lose you. Look at me.” She took his head in her hands. “You are good - to me. Before,” the break was so long he thought she wasn’t going to say more, “…to have everything and live knowing that other people have nothing...” It was enough from that particular can of worms. “It’s better here. There’s balance, and if I get the least bit anxious, all you have to do is fuck me stupid and I’m calmer than any pill ever made me. Please promise me I won’t lose you. They’re not worth it. Nothing is. Not even She.”

“Siri--”

“What do you want me to say? It was twenty years ago in another world, and the man you described isn’t the man I know. So please, let him stay dead. What you and I do together doesn’t compare. I’m happy here. Please, come sleep with me. You’ve had enough to drink.”

Choma got up and shoved her harshly down back against the table. He pushed her nightgown up to her waist leaving her pussy bare. “Does it turn you on to know what I am?”

She stared at him, face unreadable, her hands grasping the wrist of his invading hand, but not pulling it away. When he felt her with his fingers she was so wet it was as if her labia wasn’t even there. “Stay still or it’ll go bad for you,” he hissed and started removing his pants. He entered her in one smooth movement and she cried out in delight. He moved his hands to grip her neck and squeezed. He was careful not to block her breathing altogether and yet in an instant he felt her cunt flood as she flushed with excitement. “Harder, harder,” she wheezed looking him straight in the eye.

“My sweet angel, you’re mine, forever. If you ever try to leave I’ll bring you back and rape you ‘til you love me again.” The words were like an impulse to Siri’s spinal chord and her body arched taking his cock deeper. “Yes,” she croaked just before Choma filled her once more with his sweet load.

Still to be continued

    Any constructive criticism is appreciated as this is my first story.

Sara's father was an alcoholic. Every night, from upstairs he would hear the fight begin as Mr. Dawson began drinking he began yelling. Sara would do her best to appease him, or to protect her brother, but oftentimes she would carry the bruises for weeks. Derrick thought the color contrasted beautifully with the pale ivory of her skin, and the long blonde hair she wore in a braid down her back. The sight of them always urged him to add more, but he was careful. He had been a homicide detective - on the force 18 years - and he knew he had to cover his tracks and make this as untraceable as possible.

He started the day she moved in. He had noticed her bright blue eyes and cheerful smile first. At fifteen years old, she was already a knock out - with her long legs and adequate chest she could have easily passed for 20. He assisted moving boxes, stunned into silent altruism by her innocent beauty. From the first moment he knew that he had to have more. Within minutes, he was entertained by her easy - sardonic - humor. Her sarcastic edge made her appear years more jaded than she had any right to be. As soon as the boxes were moved in he settled into a plan. He had to have her, and he knew just how he wanted to do it.

Within two weeks, he had established an easy friendship with her, chatting as they passed in the hallways, helping carry groceries. He had gained her trust easily, and he was soon invited over for dinners or the occasional hockey game. He memorized her schedule and would watch as she actively engaged conversations - leaving the others feeling as though they had made a new best friend every time. Her intelligence and her social prowess ceaselessly amazed him, and he looked forward to seeing her curled up, beaten and broken - with the knowledge that he caused it.

On the day of her sixteenth birthday, Sara attended school, acting as though it were any other day. In her experience, the only difference was her dad started drinking earlier and she had more violence to deal with. She stopped at the market on her way home - planning on putting away the groceries and then retrieving her brother from day care. Derrick met her at the door to the building - apparently on his way out - and gallantly offered his assistance. Smiling her disarming smile, Sara took him up on it and gave him the lighter bag. The pair headed up the stairs to her apartment, and as she put the bag she was carrying on the table, she thanked Derrick with a kiss on the cheek. Turning, she strode into her bedroom - expecting him to let himself out as he had in the past.

Sara didn't expect the blow to the back of the head that left her unconscious.

She woke up in pain, her lower lip bitten and pulled as teeth dragged it out. Having a high pain tolerance she didn't cry out, but instead tried to assess her situation as best her muddled head could. Derrick leaned over, smiling, having let go of her lip.

"Good to see your awake, sleeping beauty." Derrick's voice was cold, crueler than Sara had ever heard it. She shivered, attempting to hide her fear. She had been tied up, spread eagle, on a cold metal table. In her silent evaluation, it didn't escape her notice that, while she still had her clothes on and was relatively unhurt, the bonds would prevent any movement, and there was an assortment of unkind looking items on the counter to her left. She didn't want to think what they could be used for.

"Derrick, why am I here?" Her voice was small and as she spoke again she tried to add more strength and courage to it. "Will you please let me go? I need to get my brother."

"Sweets, you won't be leaving - or seeing your brother - for a while. Until I'm done with you, you're mine and will remain here." Sara fidgeted, her eyes revealing the fear that the stubborn set of her chin refused to acknowledge. She thought, with her dad, she had seen the worst life had to offer. Derrick was looking forward to showing just how much worse life could get.

Slowly, he drew a pair of scissors out from his belt. He lined it up with the seam of her jeans, and cut from the ankle up, repeating it on the other side so he could remove them. A couple drops of blood gathered at the few places where he had carelessly nicked her. She didn't make a noise, but the contrast of the dark maroon against her skin nearly set him off. He drew in a breath to stabilize himself - he wanted this to be as excruciating as possible for her, to give in to his urges now would be too easy. Taking a large knife, he removed her shirt, leaving her in a pair of thin white panties and a light pink bra. He marveled at his prize, enjoying the quiver in her uneven rushed inhales. It was clear that she didn't dare make a sound, not that it would matter - in his preparations he sound-proofed every room of his apartment - she wouldn't have been heard in the next room, much less downstairs. With the knife, he slid up the edge of her panties, taunting her as he did so. "The picture's so pretty from here, but I think I shall wish to see what more there is to uncover." He did the same to her bra and finally left her there naked and spread before him.

"I wonder, just what size those boobs are, I have to say they never looked as big as they do now. Why on earth would you hide those gems under heavy shirts and sweaters?" Sara didn’t answer; she glared at him slightly, but turned away - as if looking at him disgusted her. He continued talking however; attempting to goad her into a fight so that he could justify more affirmative action against her. "A 36DD, huh? I wonder if they're real." The bruises from her father's rages covered her ribs and stomach, and as Derrick reached to grab one of her tits, he decided to see if they were still painful. At her jump and yelp, it appeared they were. As his hand roughly kneaded her breast, the other grabbed her face and turned her to face him. "You are an insolent cunt. When I ask you a question I expect an answer!" He slapped her hard, and grabbed her again, forcing her attention on his face. "Do you like what I'm doing? Are you afraid I'll stop if you fight? You're just a little whore aren't you, spurred on by someone taking what you gladly give out?" As if he had flipped a switch, Sara's temper snapped.

"You're just a prick who is incapable of getting a real woman so you abduct and rape girls who can't fight back. If you weren't such a dumbshit, I may be afraid of you, but as it is you're nothing more than a blip. You're a worthless drip of a man whose intelligence can be measured in a thimble. I won't lower myself to give you the satisfaction of my fear. Quite frankly you aren't worth it." Astounded by her break in composure, and the venom that filled her words, Derrick failed to notice her right hand working its way free of the bond. She continued, trying to keep his attention as she worked at loosening the knot. "You're attractive enough, so the only thing that I can guess is that a dumb shit like you can't get it up from a willing woman, is that it? Are you as shy as you are dumb? Or maybe you're just small. Wouldn't surprise me, given that your pick up truck screams 'over compensation.'" Enraged, Derrick slapped her, and proceeded to show her just how large his member is. As he was whipping out his formidable 10 inches, she finished freeing her hand, and gripped the knife he used to remove her shirt.

"You're nothing but a fucking cunt. This look small to you, slut? I hope you're ready because this is going to be filling every one of your fucking holes." He leaned over and as he did she swiped at him with her newly freed hand, only to be rewarded with her head slammed against the table. He sported a new gash across his chest, thin and only lightly bleeding, but he was angrier now than he'd ever been. The control he'd shown, all his restraint was lost. He held her down and she struggled against him, trying once again to free her arm. She was yelling now, feeling his anger the fear had finally hit her. Her fear, her screams and her struggles turned him on, and in one thrust he penetrated her tiny little cunt. Tears rolled down her face as he ripped through her hymen, the blood providing the only lubrication. "You're awfully tight, slut. Do you like the way my cock feels as it's opening you, stretching you? Your cunt feels great to me." She spit on him, but only succeeded in making him laugh. The speed of his thrusts quickened and she only hoped he was close to done. He slowed himself, using the last remnants of his control, and pulled out. He untied her legs and motion pressed himself into the equally tight chasm of her ass. Having had only her blood as lubrication, it took several tries to get in completely, listening to her plead and wail was worth it though.

"Please dont" he mocked, as he finally sheathed himself within her ass, he began to rapidly pick up speed until he felt his balls tightening. Her ass was bleeding now, providing lubrication as he slid in and out of her faster and faster. Groaning he came, deep inside her bowels. After he rolled off her, she slid easily into the fetal position crying. One of her arms was still tied, and - despite her despair - he could see her trying to undo it as she shook. He slapped her hard, and retied all of her limbs. He pushed the handle of a baseball bat inside of her and left her crying.

To be continued. Tell me what you think? It's my first story and any criticism is good criticism

He was walking home on a warm September night. His name was Joel a slim collage kid heading for a midnight MacDonald’s run. Joel was 6 2 thin with a small frame; although he was 18 he had the baby face of a 14 year old. It was the weekend in this small collage town and as all his friends had gone home for the weekend Joel was left to walk to the golden arches by himself. After downing his food he slowly started to make his way back to his dorm. On his way through a small back street he stumbled on an odd site for 1 in the morning there was a black suv parked on the lonely back side street. Attempting to juggle two bags and her car keys was a tall woman in a black trench coat. Joel gave a quick glance and to avoid being creepy kept on his way ignoring the women, until she beckoned him with sultry "excuse me young man, could you open my trunk for me" Joel prided himself in being a nice guy so he stopped and walked over to the car, the lighting on this street was dark and cloudy so all he could see was the outline of her dirty blonde hair and the contour fitting coat. Wanting to continue with his journey he took her awaiting keys and flipped the trunk open. The suv was odd it had the center seat removed and the whole rear of the car was covered in a blanket with nothing on it a small duffle bag behind the passenger seat. But before Joel could turn around and egknoweledge the women the bags were thrown from behind Joel to the front of the vehicle and Joel was shoved from behind into the vehicle face first. Before he could respond he was shoved further into the vehicle. He then felt this strange body jump onto his back pinning him to the floor, no matter how he squirmed she was a strong fit women about 6 5 and had the upper hand. Joel’s instinct to yell didn't kick in until he heard the trunk slam shut and the cab lights faded to black. He got out but a small yelp before the stranger pulled a pink ball gag from her coat pocket and shoved it to his mouth muffling his cries. She hummed to herself as she fastened the gag seemingly pleased with the execution of her plan. Joel then felt the shirt being peeled from his back and chucked to the corner. He managed to twist his arm and seize his attacker by the wrist, only for a moment as she chuckled “naughty boy, don’t you play rough” And twisted his arm further pinning him to the blanket. Holding her prize in this position she reached into her duffle and pulled out leather pair of bdsm handcuffs and bound his arms together leaving him a helpless shirtless worm wriggling beneath her crotch. Joel stopped his struggling as he felt her lean down and whisper in his ear in a soft yet harsh pornstar voice, “your mine now”  He was then flipped over on his back and in the dim light finally got his first long look at his attacker. She was a tall fit woman of her late twenties early thirties, with sholder lenth dirty blonde hair and a small nose ring that glistened in the streetlights. She had donned a black masquerade style mask to hide her identity and was giggling at the sight of her new pet. She pulled a digital camera from her coat and grinned as she said “smile” she then shoved the picture of the bare chested Joel, gagged and bound in his face and laughed and said “I love your expression in this one” With that she set the camera aside and set into business, she shredded her coat revealing her underlying outfit, elbow long black latex gloves with a pair of fishnet stockings and garter belt. Her full breasts had both nipples pierced and she wore a black collar with the bejeweled words “mistress” along the front. What really caught Joel’s attention though was the black leather panties she wore with a strange harness mounted to the front. She then started to speak as she pulled his pants and boxers off. “This is how this is going to go” she sternly told “I’m going to fuck you, anyway I please, you will be my little boy slut, I’m going to rape your virgin little body and you’re going to take it understood” Joel  tried to protest but was muffled by the gag, his complaints were silenced by a swift slap to the face and a stern “ what did I just fucking say slut” She then removed Joel’s wallet from his jeans and pulled his wallet. “Joel” she read “well Joel, I’m going to give you a night you won’t forget.” With that she pulled out a bottle of lube and proceeds to pour it onto his bare crotch. “See” she said “I’m not completely heartless, I could fuck you raw.” She chuckled to herself as she started to rub the lube around his limp cock and balls and down the crack of his ass to his tight virgin hole. “Tisk tisk, this won’t do” she said as she slid her and long his limp member, with that she grabbed the shaft a quickly started to beat him off until his cock had grown to a hard six inch shaft. “Well there we go, aren’t you just a horny little boy” she mocked as dropped the cock and flipped him back on his stomach. “But of course were not here for your pleasure now are we?” she said pulling his tight pale bum up to her crotch height. She then bent over him and started digging in the bag; Joel could feel the metal harness press into his ass cheeks and started shaking at the impeding deflowering of his ass.  Slowly she pulled a six inch pink dildo out of the bag and slides the rubber cock across his cheek. “I know its small, but it’ll do for now” she cackled as she snapped the cock into place. “Now this might feel a bit uncomfortable at first” she sneered as she poured lube on his hole, then without warning shoved a finger into his ass. “Opps there we go” she laughed as he arched his back in discomfort. She then started pounding his ass with her finger, then two fingers, and then three. Joel laid there helpless and moaning in pain ass his virgin ass was brutally finger fucked by his tall blonde mistress. She then stopped but before Joel could breathe a sigh of relief he noticed her other hand coating the strap on with lube. “Now” she stated as she rubbed her cock in his ass crack “Your mistress is going to make a she-cock loving sissy boy slut outta you.” She then rammed the dildo deep into his ass making him cringe in pain. “OH that hurt, well you just need more lube” she yelled as she dumbed more lube on the cock and shoved it back into the young boy’s man pussy. She then grabbed his cheeks and squeezed as she nailed him fast and hard. She laughed and moaned wildly drowning out any muffled moans coming from Joel’s pale body. “Say my name, oo, say my name Joel” she moaned “o wait, I gagged your slut mouth, then let me do it for you.” Then in a high pitched voice she mocked “o mistress, o mistress I’m such a naughty boy slut, take my ass fuck me harder.” She then smiled and screeched “if you say so slut” she then reared up and grabbed his shoulders, and started viciously pounding his ass. She then started orgasaming over and over. Finally she stopped and pulled her sloppy dick out of jowls stretched ass and took a couple of deep breaths. But as soon as Joel thought his nightmare was over she flipped him back over and pulled the gag out of his mouth, before he could gasp for air she had the cock shoved into his mouth. “Taste your ass boy!” she yelled as she face fucked her slave. “take that cock in your mouth and taste yourself” She grabbed the camera again and snapped away a few more pictures of his full mouth, she then unclipped the cock leaving it in his mouth and tore the strap on off of herself, “this cock belongs to me and I want it now” She then slid the cock into her pussy and ridding Joel’s member as hard as she could all the while sliding the rubber cock in and out of his mouth. She then started spanking his ass yelling “buck those hips slave, please your mistress” Joel soon blew his load deep into her pussy as she laughed and spanked her sissy boy. “You’re not done yet slave, your mistress must be filled.” With that she started bucking even harder orgasaming over and over and milking load after load out of her slut. Eventually Joel’s cock was nothing but a sloppy limp member. His mistress looked at this and frowned, “is that all you have, ugh disappointing slave, I am done with you now.” She then took out a pair of red panties with the words “mommy’s little slut” written across the bum and pulled them onto Joel’s tight frame, “something to remember me by” she giggled, she then flipped open the trunk door and hauled Joel’s exhausted body to the grass and dropped him, she then slammed the trunk with his pants in her hand. She through them on the ground beside him but not before she took out his cell and wrote his number on her hand and through the phone onto his lap. She pulled the cuffs off his wrists, snapped one last picture, and hoped into her suv leaving his exhausted shocked body laying panting on the grass. She then drove off, but not before looking at the dildo he had just spit out onto the grass and smirking “keep the cock, practice for next time.” And with that she was gone into the dark with her screams of pleasure still echoing in the alleys.

Rent

All the usual disclaimers. You must be over 18 to read this.

You have been warned. This is for adults only!!!

Rat-a-tat came the knocking on the door, the knocking that Faye had been dreading for over a week since the employment agency had said that she would no longer be needed.  The knocking was of course he landlord coming for her rent, which she didn’t have.  In fact she had very little money at all. 

“Faye, open up Faye it’s the landlord” came the deep gravelly voice that she recognized as Vinnie, her middle-aged and rather creepy landlord.   “Rents due”, he said after waiting for a few minutes for an answer, “I know you’re in there and if you don’t answer I’ll let myself in”.  He then knocked on the door another couple of times and Faye fell seated backward on to her bed, and hoped that he would go away.  She knew that her rent was due, but if only she could avoid seeing him for another week until her student loan cheque cleared, then she would be able to pay what she owed him. 

“Last chance”, he said and this time Faye could hear the rattle of his keys as he looked for the right one for her door.   She then gingerly got him and walked cautiously over to the door; undoing the latch when she got there and slowly opened the door.  When she had opened it just a crack, Vinnie forced the door open and at the same time pushing Faye almost back onto the bed that dominated most of the room.

“You trying to avoid me?” Vinnie asked of Faye as stood by the bed shacking a little.  Vinnie was 5’9 with slicked back greasy looking blacking and a dirty look on his face as though he had a permanent sneer.  Ever since she had met the man he had creeped her out and she had only taken  the room as she was desperate as all of her friends had already places and she was about to start Uni.

“N-n-no” she managed to stutter.

“Then where’s my rent?” he asked even more than before.

“You see I lost my temp job and they’re trying to get out of paying me, and my student loan cheque hasn’t arrived yet” she blurted out nervously.

“When you moved in you said you were working,” it was a statement for than a question, “sorry but if you’re not working I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“B-b-but,” Faye stuttered, “if you just wait a week or so I’ll pay you 2 months’ rent.”  She rather hoped that that would placate him, but instead he moved closer to her, covering the distance between them in just a couple of strides.

“I can’t wait that long, I’ve got bills to pay too,” he said now almost pinning her against the bed.   “Ok, look,” he said now almost reasonable, “we can come to some sort of agreement, but you gotta give me some, erm, consideration.”

“How’d you mean?” Faye said, very timidly and almost petrified of the way this was going.

“Well you’ve asked me to delay collecting what’s mine and in return you go to give me something.”

Faye saw the wicked glint in his eye and could feel her legs going to jelly with fear, and her eyes started to flit around the room looking for a way out.  But there was none, he had her practically pinned against the corner of the bed and could probably have covered almost any move that she made for the door.  “Ok, so you’ll give me weeks grace?”

“Yeah,” Vinnie said with a dirty and evil chuckle low in his throat, “but you gotta be nice to me in return.”

“H-h-how do you mean? “  Faye asked not wanting to know the answer but fearing that she did know it.

Vinnie said nothing, but chuckled again in the same dirty fashion that he had done so a minute or so earlier.  Then he did something that Faye couldn’t quite fathom at the time; he reached down and undid his zipper.   He then reached in side and pulled out his semi flaccid penis and started to stroke it in front of her.  Seeing her look of utter shock, bordering on disgust as the realisation of what he wanted her to do finally dawned on her. He then took her hand in his and placed his cock in her open palm. 

“That’s it baby stroke me,” he said as he moved his cock up and down on her palm.  “No close your hand around it,” he instructed and Faye complied fearing the worst if she didn’t, “mmm that’s it baby.”

She could feel the slimy warm pre-cum ooze off his cock head and on to her hand as pulled it back and forth as his breathing became heavier and a little quicker.  All the while her eyes darted around the room trying to look anywhere except at what she had in her hand, and vile look on his face.  Equally she tried to force her mind to wonder away from this ghastly situation, but the one thought that kept itself that the forefront f her mind was how she could possibly have gotten in this situation in the first place and how she could get out of it without being hurt.

A stinging pain in her right cheek brought her thoughts sharply into focus on her present predicament, which was then followed by Vinnie’s ugly sounding drawl. 

“Hey, bitch,” he was saying, “I told you to suck it, remember you have to be nice to me.”

Faye suddenly felt extremely nauseous at the thought of having to put that thing in her mouth, but she really couldn’t see any way of getting out of hit.  Then another sharp sting to her cheek where he had slapped her for the second time and then she felt the weight of his has hands on her shoulders pushing her down to the edge of the bed. Within a couple of seconds she was seated almost directly on front of his cock,  which she could now see was about 7” long and not  all that thick. It’s not as if she hadn’t given blowjobs before, it’s just that she didn’t particular want to give one to this guy.

“Nah, not yet bitch,” he said as she opened her mouth and leant forward, “take you're top off first.”  She hesitated for a movement and then, fearing another slap to her face.  She then pulled off her blue t-shirt, the hand on her arm telling that she was doing so too quickly for him, slowly revealing her pert B cup breasts.  Vinnie looked down at her with the vilest, dirtiest grin she had ever seen and in turn she looked up at him with an expression that was at the same time disgusted and pleading, almost begging him to stop this.

“That’s much better,” he said as he inched forwarded indicating to her that it was now time for her to perform fellatio on him.  She then obliged by opening her mouth and allowing his cock to enter her mouth.  She had intended to try to only take a couple of inches into her mouth, but he then placed his hand the back of her head and pushed his cock almost all the way into her mouth.  He then started to push himself in and out of her mouth using his hand in the back of her head to ensure that he never came all the way out of her mouth. 

Again she tried to switch off and drift away to a place very far from this dreary little flat, but the regular gagging reflex that she got from him pushing his cock a little too far in her mouth, and down her throat, never quite let her.  With every third or fourth thrust Vinnie would make some comment or other.

“Oh yes baby that’s fantastic”

“Suck it whore, bitch, oh yes whore”#

“Watch the teeth baby, oh yeah that’s much better”

All the while it felt to Faye that his cock was getting bigger and harder; and she could certainly hear his breathing getting faster and his thrusts getting faster and more instant.  She was almost convinced that he would cum in her mouth at any minute and she tried to use her tongue to stimulate even more and push him over the edge.  Not to increase his pleasure, but to hasten the end of this awful experience.

A huge sense of relief almost flowed over her entire body when he did eventually withdraw himself from her mouth, even though she hadn’t felt or tasted him cum in her mouth, but she knew hat some men liked to cum over their partners instead.                                                                                                                                                             

“I haven’t finished with you yet whore,” he said in no uncertain terms when he saw the relieved expression on her face, “lie back bitch.”  At that moment a look of sudden realisation and horror came over Faye’s as she realised that he was definitely going to rape her there and then.

“N-n-n-n-no” she stammered, “Please d-d-d-don’t.”

“Shout up and lie back,” he said pushing her head back toward the bed and the rest of her soon followed.  Faye then lay there all but paralysed with fear as the tears started to well up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.  “Take off your jeans,” he then demanded.

“N-n-n-n-no, please d-d-d-don’t,” she said as she fumbled with the fastener of her jeans.  As if she didn’t do it fast enough for him, Vinnie them, after discarding his own jeans and underwear, straddled her legs and undid her jeans for her.

 Vinnie then started to pull down her jeans as Faye tried to struggle against him in order to try to keep them down and when he had pulled them down to her ankles, he then proceeded to do the same with her pink briefs.  “N-n-n-n-no, please d-d-d-don’t,” sobbed into her hands.

“Turnover,” Vinnie said putting his hand under her thigh to turn her, “it’ll be over quicker, baby”.

Faye then, still crying, slowly turned over so that she was now on all fours facing away from Vinnie with her jeans and panties down around her ankles; the tears were now burning track marks down her checks as she waiting for Vinnie.  Savouring Faye’s small tight ass, Vinnie was in no hurry to end his enjoyment of this naïve young student who seemed to think that she could take advantage of him.  He then slowly got onto his just behind her and spread her legs a little in order to get better access; running a finger along her sex he could feel that she was not very lubricated and he gave a dirty wry smile knowing that this would in all likelihood hurt her.  His cock was quite well lubricated though from when she had sucking it. 

Vinnie then spread Faye’s lips with his finger, and when she audibly grimaced he smiled even more dirtily.  He then pressed his cock against her cunt, placed his hands on her hips and with one quick, but firm motion entered her. Faye then grimaced again and looking round at Vinnie pleaded with her eyes silently pleaded with him to stop.  But all Vinnie did was to smile back at almost as if to tell her to forget it.

He then eased himself back, almost pulling his cock out of her, and pausing just long enough to give Faye some hope that he may even pull his cock all the way out; he then slammed his cock back into her cunt so hard that Faye almost cried out in pain, but instead all she could was to sob with renewed hopelessness.  Vinnie then repeated this tortuous teasing twice more slamming himself in deeper and harder into Faye, and each time she wept harder and gripped the top sheet of the bed a little harder.  Each time Vinnie paused while he was deep inside of Faye and savoured the feeling of Faye’s tight cunt all around his hard and throbbing cock.  While Faye just wished he would get on with it.  

After the third time Vinnie didn’t pause as long as he had done the last couple of times and pulled himself back and then almost instantly thrust himself back into her, causing Faye to gasp with pain as he did so.  This time Vinnie didn’t pause as he was now eager to cum in continued to thrust in and out of her repeatedly with just as much force as before.   With each repetition of thrust Faye gripped the bed sheet tight and tight until her nails had almost cut thrown the sheet and had start to dig into her the mattress.   She could her Vinnie’s breathing getting louder and quicker as her continued to rape her; and he started to make a guttural grunt deep in his throat.

Somehow through the pain and tears Faye recognised this as signal that Vinnie was almost ready to cum and she tried to squeeze her muscles around his cock in order to try and bring a quick end to her ordeal. 

“Mmm oh yes baby,  ooh yes baby that’s it” Vinnie said crudely as he could feel her cunt muscles tighten around his already engorged cock.  “Oooh aaah yes baby, fuck yes, fuck yes, you fucking cunt whore”, as he neared orgasm Vinnie started shouting obscenities at Faye and calling almost every dirty name under the sun.  “Aaahhh Ahhh yes baby, that it baby” Vinnie shouted as he came ever and pounded Faye’s pussy ever harder.

“oooh Ahhh Yes, fuck yes bitch” came the shout from Vinnie as he Faye could feel Vinnie squirt his cum into her.  “Ahhh” Vinnie said as he pumped the last of his cum into her and eased himself all the way in again and paused there in a kind of resting position as he waited for his cock to deflate enough to so that her could pull out of her.

“Oh yeah baby that was brilliant, thank for the incredible fuck,” Vinnie said, slapping Faye’s arse as he finally pulled out of her, “you’re going to make a great whore, you know”.

Faye didn’t even process what he had said to her until much later as now that the ordeal was over she was more or less frozen to the spot.  She didn’t even flinch when Vinnie stroked her hair and then flicked her now sensitive nipple.  He then climbed off the bed and then picked up her discarded top and used it to wipe his penis clean with. 

“Oh and your rent is due tomorrow bitch,” Vinnie said flinging the now cum stained top towards Faye so that it landed square on her head.

“B-b-b-b-but I can’t,” she stuttered between sobs.

“Don’t worry baby I’ve got just the job for you” he said all but laughing as he pulled on his jeans and pulled out his mobile phone from his pocket.   Vinnie then quickly found the number he was looking for and waited as it rang.  In no more than 5 or 6 rings it was answered.

“Hey” he said

“Yeah I got just the girl for you” he replied to a voice that Faye couldn’t hear.

“Yeah right little goer, takes it everywhere, if you know what I mean,” again he listened to the response.

“Yeah, little whore has no qualms about fucking for money,” this worried, scarred and pretty much humiliated Faye all at the same time, especially as she was in little doubt that he was talking about her.

“Yeah same price as usually, you can meet her at 10am at my place,” Vinnie said hanging up and slipping the phone back into his pocket.

He then, ignoring the weeping girl and walked out the door. 

For what seemed like an age Faye cried quietly, still frozen in the same poisitokn on all fours as she had been while Vinnie was fucking her.  Eventually, when she was absolutely sure he wouldn’t come back, she slipped under the sheets, wrapped herself up in a foetal position and cried herself to sleep.