Author Topic: Little A  (Read 2419 times)

Offline EnabranTain

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Little A
« on: June 18, 2021, 02:27:08 PM »
I'm getting back into my writing after an extended absence and thought I'd revisit some of my stories. This one was posted a couple of years ago, but I've given it some minor modifications and cleaned it up a bit. Here's the first chapter with more to come as I clean up what I'd written before and add new chapters that are in the works.

WARNING!
This story contains depictions of sexual activity and rape involving characters under the age of 18. If you do not want to read about such things, please stop reading now.
This story is a work of complete fiction. No characters in it are meant to resemble any real persons. No events described are intended to depict any real world events. In addition, although persons of distinct nationalities, ethnicities, cultures or religions may be portrayed, no offense is meant to anyone.

Chapter 1
Not Like The Other Girls

That was the moment, waiting for the school bus; that day, that flashbulb moment in time, she would remember with crystal clarity for the rest of her life. It was not dramatic, in fact hardly anything happened at all, yet it was a pivotal moment all the same.
Summer had technically begun, but despite a bright, sunny sky, it was a cold morning. Amy shivered with the slightest breeze and goosebumps ran up her smooth, pale legs. The other kids stood apart from her, wearing jeans and hoodies, but Amy’s pleated black skirt, cut just above her knees, and white button up blouse, offered little protection from the wind. She hugged herself stealing envious glances at the other girls’ jackets. She’d left hers at home and didn’t have time to go back for it. She shrugged her shoulders, shifting the weight of her backpack and looked down the road, where the yellow bus was just now visible a few blocks away. No one ever spoke to her at the bus stop. No one really spoke to her at all, except her friend Elizabeth, who didn’t ride this bus. The other girls looked down on her, both figuratively and literally. Amy was short, and less developed. At fourteen years old, her chest still hardly warranted a training bra, unlike Elizabeth who, while two years older than Amy, had been a curvy C cup by the time she was fourteen. Amy only owned one bra and it fit so poorly she didn’t bother wearing it most days. Her petite build and late development was a family trait, as was her red hair and light freckling. Amy was constantly told how “adorable” she was, and “cute,” as if she were a puppy. In an effort to look more mature, she’d taken to wearing tighter and more revealing shirts and rolling up her skirts at the waist to raise her hemlines. Today, she was suffering for the effort.
Amy was lost in thought watching the clique of girls whispering amongst themselves and didn’t notice one of the boys approaching her from behind. He grabbed her left butt cheek, gave it a powerful squeeze, and then skittered off back to his circle of buddies as Amy gasped in shock. The boys chuckled to themselves, and the clique of girls cast angry looks at them.
“What’s wrong with you, Darren?” One of the older, popular girls sneered. The comment, however, did not signify solidarity. The girls looked at Amy, but despite what had just happened, it was not an invitation to join them. They looked upon her as one looks upon a half squished bug that’s been stepped on but hasn’t quite died; a mixture of pity, with a hint of disgust.

But that was the moment. When Darren’s hand forcefully squeezed her ass, a zing of adrenaline and excitement shocked through Amy’s body. If even for a split second, her body reacted favorably to the surprise. While other girls would have screamed or panicked, been angry, or felt violated, she felt the tickle of arousal. That simple grope was the final straw that brought about an epiphany. She was not simply awkward and weird, but truly at her core, different.

The bus pulled up and the brakes squealed. She rubbed at her butt cheek as the other kids filed onto the bus, the sore muscle still sending flickers of excitement through her body. She could feel the small indents on her skin where Darren’s fingernails had dug in. She was the last one to board the bus, and prayed to God that no one noticed her blushing.

At lunch, Amy stared down at her plate, pushing food around with a fork. She rested an elbow on the table with her chin in the palm of her hand. Elizabeth’s tray clattered down next to hers and the tall blond with perfect skin, sat down.
“Hey little A” she said.
“Hey” Amy responded unenthusiastically.
“Oh no, what happened,” Elizabeth said in a motherly tone.
Amy recounted the brief tale of the bus stop groping.
“What an asshole,” Elizabeth raised her head to look around the lunch hall. “You want me to break his nose?”
“No Lizzy! It’s ... that’s not what ...” Amy sighed, “just, forget it.”
Amy and Elizabeth grew up in the same church community and had been friends since they were very young. Amy’s family had moved to a more conservative church a few years ago, but the two of them had remained best friends. Even though Elizabeth was older and one of five siblings, while Amy was an only child, and even though Elizabeth had the looks and charm to be one of the “beautiful” people, while Amy was awkward and distant, Elizabeth had never been condescending. She had never been patronizing or mean to Amy in any way. Elizabeth was the one person Amy trusted.
“It’s just...” Amy lowered her voice, “I liked it, like...” she tilted her head “really liked it.”
“Oh” Elizabeth replied with understanding. She glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Do you need to... you know...” Elizabeth wiggled her middle finger in a subtle gesture.
“No! I mean, not now.” Amy looked down at her food again, “I... did it quietly on the bus.”

++++++

A year earlier, Amy had been grounded by her mother for two weeks after taking the Lord's name in vain. She was forbidden from going anywhere after school, and to make sure she wasn’t still having a good time while at home for the two hours she was alone, the TV had been locked down with passwords that only allowed her to watch safe educational programming, and even the old DVDs were hidden away someplace.
Of course, having nothing to do after school meant she had all the time in the world to search the house for the movies. In less than an hour, she found a cardboard box on the top shelf of the closet in her father’s home office. It was full of DVDs. However, they were not the family friendly movies she was expecting.
Amy knew what porn was, but she’d never seen any. Her mother was quite strict about computer use at home and had tried to hide it from her, but going to a public school, there was no avoiding the topic. With bated breath, Amy flipped through the cases, wide eyed, soaking in the lewd images on their covers. Her tummy stirred with butterflies. She carried the box down to the living room big screen TV and selected one of the discs. With trembling hands she inserted it into the machine. Her heart pounded in her chest for what seemed ages as it loaded up. Amy spent the next hour sitting on the floor in front of the TV, mouth agape, watching men and women having sex, moaning and thrusting, sweating and heaving. She pinched her nipples hard and pressed a finger outside her panties against her clit, learning for the first time that’s what it was called, and squeezed her legs together until her tiny frame shook out of control.
When she caught her breath, she quickly put everything back just as she’d found it, mere minutes before her father got home, and she counted the seconds until she’d be home alone again the next day.
For the rest of the week she rushed home as quickly as possible after school and sat in front of the TV, mesmerized, for as long as she dared. She stripped off her clothes, sat inches from the screen, and rubbed herself repeatedly for climax after climax. She even figured out it was best to sit on a towel, or else she’d leave a wet spot on the carpet.
The weekend was torture with no opportunities to get into the videos. Church was even more boring than usual, and she found herself getting aroused while sitting in the pews as her mind wandered, images of sex running non stop through her young brain. Her mother kept scolding her for squirming in her seat. By Monday, Amy was getting turned on, just walking around the halls at school, and spent the day longing to go home.
When she finally did get home that afternoon, she started peeling her clothes off the second she walked in the door, and rushed to get a new DVD. She didn’t even look at the cover before popping it into the player and running to get a towel while it loaded up. By the time she got back to the living room, placed the towel on the floor, and sat down, the video was already playing.

This one, however, seemed different than the others. It was set in a dark living room, not unlike Amy’s own. A young brunette was watching TV and snacking on microwave popcorn when the front door burst open and three men rushed into the room. They quickly surrounded her and grabbed at her, pulling, tearing her clothes, and barking orders. They dragged her to a bedroom while she shrieked in panic and they threw her down on the bed. One of the men grabbed her by the hair and shoved her face into the mattress while a second man bound her knees together with a belt. They positioned her body face down, ass up while she struggled desperately to get away. The camera panned over the whole scene. Two of the men held her down with her arms bent out at weird angles. The most muscular of the men stood behind her, spread her ass cheeks apart, and grinned.
“No! No! PLEASE NO!” The girl screamed through tears.
The large man lined up his enormous cock with her pale pink cunt, grunted and...

Amy’s hand shook as she dropped the remote; the electric ping of the TV powering off hung in the air like the desperate sobs of the victim she was just watching.
Her whole body was shaking like a leaf, one finger still pressed to her tiny clit, Amy stared at the black screen in front of her like it was Nietzsche’s all encompassing void. Panting, her heart racing, she blinked slowly until her pulse began to return to normal. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth.

That evening, it was especially quiet at dinner. The family sat around the table, and Amy’s mother broke the silence by asking how her day had been. Amy didn’t notice. Her father finally spoke up.
“Hey, your mother asked you a question,” he nudged her with his elbow.
Amy looked up at her father, looked into his eyes, and had a vision of him watching that video while jerking off, beads of sweat forming on his brow and licking his lips in delight.
“I, uh,” she looked at her mother, “it, it was fine.”

Over the next two days Amy did not watch any of the videos, but the image of that girl bound and helpless, haunted her thoughts. She dreamed of popcorn, and a warm cozy house, and then suddenly, she was on her knees bent over and a strange man was about to violate her from behind. She’d wake up in a cold sweat, but aroused and unable to rest until she’d satisfied herself.
On Thursday, she decided it would be ok to watch one of the other videos, just not that one. She went through her normal routine, got a towel, and sat down. But although she kept coming to the brink of climax, she was continually unable to achieve a release.
The nightmare came again that night, and as she rubbed herself back to calm, Amy knew what she had to do. The following day, the last day of her grounding, her stomach fluttered so badly that the smell of breakfast almost made her vomit. She hardly spoke to anyone the entire day and walked home after school like a condemned convict facing the electric chair. She sat in front the TV with the rape movie loaded, determined to watch it no matter what, and pressed play.
The opening scene was just as she remembered; the girl, the popcorn, and then kicking and crying, in no time the victim was back on her knees with the cruel man behind her. He grunted and shoved his cock into her guts so hard, the girl let out the most chilling scream Amy had ever heard.
Amy cried as she watched the girl get used hard. One after the other the men took turns impaling her with their giant cocks; they probed her with fingers, fucked her in the ass, and shoved their cocks down her throat over and over until the girl was reduced to a quivering, sobbing, cum covered mess.
Amy’s budding breasts were covered in tears by the end, but her nipples were raw from being squeezed so hard, and her clit was numb from the rubbing. She’d cum so much, the towel under her was soaked through, and she had to get the stain remover to clean the carpet before her parents got home. It was the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced, and that night, she slept like a baby.

After that it was as if her brain had been rewired. Amy began to masturbate more frequently, sneaking into her dad’s personal cache of porn as often as she dared. She didn’t watch the rape video except as a special reward to herself on rare occasions. She was good at hiding her secret, but Elizabeth noticed the change in Amy’s behavior. At school she was more agitated, distracted, and she wasn’t spending as much time with Elizabeth after school. When Elizabeth confronted her about it, Amy was scared, but knew she couldn’t hide it from her best friend, and she needed to tell someone. She told Elizabeth about finding the porn and admitted to masturbating a lot more, although she left out the part about the rape video. Elizabeth had thankfully been understanding, and it was a relief to have someone she could talk to about it. Yet over time the problem only got worse. Amy would sometimes become so sexually agitated during the day, she needed to run off to the bathroom just to satisfy the urge before she could focus on anything. She’d even started finding ways to masturbate subtlety in class, and stopped wearing panties unless absolutely necessary.

+++++++

Because of all this, Amy had already known she was changing, but the incident with Darren at the bus stop had been the final thing that made her realize she had a serious problem, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Sitting there at lunch, amongst all the normal kids happily going about their typical adolescent lives, Amy felt lost.
“I’m a freak!” She finally blurted out.
“You are not!” Elizabeth insisted. “Look at me, look. At. Me.”
Amy lifted her eyes to her best friend.
Elizabeth spoke in as strong a whisper as she could without being heard by anyone else in the hall. “You are NOT a freak. You are just someone who has a strong... sexual... appetite. AND...” she spoke again before Amy could protest, “there is NOTHING wrong with you. And I love you and I know you are a good person no matter what.”
Amy choked up a little and hugged her best friend.
“Now now, come on little A,” Elizabeth said and wiped a tear from Amy’s cheek. “You’re gonna get me crying too!” She hugged Amy back. “We’ll figure this out.”
They held the embrace until they started getting strange looks. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the meal. When they were finished, Amy watched Elizabeth take their trays back to the kitchen. She was so grateful to have such a good friend, but she knew Elizabeth was wrong. She was a freak.
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline EnabranTain

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Re: Little A
« Reply #1 on: June 18, 2021, 02:29:46 PM »
Chapter 2
A Late Night

Life resumed its normal routine, in time, and Amy tried to put the bus stop incident out of her mind, but she never felt quite the same. The itch was always just beneath the surface. Spending time with Elizabeth helped her feel normal and Elizabeth, seeming to understand that, made every effort to have Amy over as much as possible. Amy loved being at her best friend’s house where things were always happening. Elizabeth was the third of her parent’s five children. They’d had one son followed by four daughters. There was always an upcoming recital or soccer game, panic over homework, or college applications to write. Dinner at their house was frenetic with conversations overlapping, dishes clanking, and fights breaking out in equal measure to laughter. It was a stark contrast to the calm, somber dinners at Amy’s own home. Amy was always welcome at Elizabeth’s house, just another sibling thrown into the mix, and she ate with them as often as she could. It was the only place she felt welcome.

On a Friday night, Amy was once more at their home. The house, which had been so female dominated already, was virtually turning into a sorority house since Elizabeth’s brother had moved out. Tyler was 21 years old. After being rejected from his top three college picks he’d decided to go directly into the workforce and found a job at a mechanics shop near the coast, about an hour drive away. After a couple of raises and with frugal spending habits, he’d recently saved up enough to get his own apartment. That left Elizabeth’s father as the only remaining source of testosterone in the house, so the atmosphere was noticeably different. That Friday, however, Tyler was back home visiting and it felt like old times.

After dinner, which was the only thing that could keep all members of the household together in one place for any length of time, people drifted off to their own diversions. The youngest two sisters shared a room on the second floor and they went upstairs to gossip. Elizabeth’s older sister was going through some sort of goth phase. She left to smoke cigarettes with her friends and be indifferent to life. Amy and Elizabeth changed into their pajamas and joined Tyler in the living room to watch scary movies, a common Friday evening tradition.
Elizabeth, having an innate sense of style, wore a simple set of light blue pajamas with white buttons and pink stitching. Amy, on the other hand, wore an oversized black T-shirt she had gotten the previous Halloween. It came down to her knees and had a giant glow in the dark skull on the front.
Tyler sat at the left end of the sofa in his work jeans and a stained shirt. Elizabeth sat on the right with Amy between them. Amy put her feet on Tyler’s lap and Elizabeth braided her hair while they watched the movie. The braids were always tighter whenever Elizabeth was truly frightened by the film, and this night they were extra tight, but Amy didn’t mind, she liked getting her hair braided, it was calming and made her feel like part of the family. Soon her hair was done up in smart looking French braid pigtails.
Elizabeth’s parents interrupted the movie just long enough to say goodnight at about ten o’clock and went off to bed just as the trio were starting a second film. This one was some kind of slasher flick, with bad acting and even worse special effects. An hour later they’d pulled a blanket over themselves and Amy was lying with her head in Tyler’s lap. He smelled faintly of engine oil and gasoline, like the shop followed him wherever he went. She liked it.

“There’s no way!” Amy laughed as another victim was dispatched on screen.
“What do you mean?” Tyler asked.
“That much blood? That’s stupid. And there’s no way it could spray that far.”
“Yeah, but... you know...” Tyler shrugged.
“No way, right Lizzy?” Amy looked for support on the matter, but Elizabeth’s eyes were closed and her head was slumped to the side, she was fast asleep.
On the screen another coed was running up a flight of stairs, chased by a knife wielding psycho.
“Pffft...” Amy rolled her eyes. “See, it’s a boring movie anyways.” She gestured at Elizabeth.
“Well I like it,” Tyler said.
The music changed key and the assailant tore off the coed’s blouse as she narrowly escaped his clutches.
“You just like it ‘cause the girls all have big fake tits,” said Amy, cupping her hands in front of her own chest.
“Yep!”
Amy gave him a light punch to the thigh, but smiled.
“Hey! I’m a guy, what do you want?”
Gratuitous footage of the now topless coed holding the sides of her head and screaming like an idiot made them both laugh.
“Yeah yeah, guys love big tits, tell me something I don’t know.”
“Well not all guys... I like small tits too,” Tyler shrugged.
“Whatever”
“No, seriously. Yours are great.”
The psycho toppled the coed and raised the knife above his head, grinning like a madman.
Amy turned her head to look up at Tyler, surprised to hear him say that. He’d never flirted with her before. She glanced over at Elizabeth, but she was still asleep.
“I mean it.” His right hand caressed her neck.
The psychopath brought the knife down into the coed’s belly repeatedly as fountains of obviously fake blood sprayed everywhere.
Tyler slipped his hand under the collar of Amy’s shirt. His palm slid across her chest and he cupped her left breast, his thumb lightly brushing her nipple.
The victim’s gurgling cries died down and the scene faded to black.
Amy froze, she had no idea what to do. His touch was sending shivers across her skin, but this was Tyler. She’d known him her whole life, he was Elizabeth’s brother, and Elizabeth was right there! At the same time, Amy had never been touched like that by a man before, and despite all the times she’d fantasized about it, she was caught off guard.
“Shhhh” Tyler winked at her and pulled his hand back.
Time stopped for a heartbeat as their eyes locked.
The movie faded back in with the detective heroes examining the crime scene, but neither Amy nor Tyler were paying attention.
Amy gave a nervous laugh. “Heeh! For a second I thought you were gonna...”
“You thought what?” Tyler smiled mischievously, his hand sliding across the side of her leg, “What did you think I was gonna do?”
Amy’s shock turned to embarrassment. “I, I don’t know, I just thought,” she shook her head.
“You thought that I’d do something like... this?”

Tyler moved in a flash. His left hand came down over her mouth and his right hand grabbed at her tits through her shirt, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
Amy squealed, but the sound was muffled against his hand. For a split second she thought he was being playful, but the way he groped her flesh was serious. Before she could kick and fight, Tyler scooped her up under the armpits and pulled her over his lap, turning her over, and pressed her mouth against the sofa armrest. He moved out from under her and grabbed her wrists, bending her arms behind her back like she was a puppet. He could hold both of her slim wrists easily in one hand.
Amy tried to cry out for help, but she couldn’t even get a full breath with her face pushed into the couch cushions. She squirmed, hoping to wake Elizabeth, but Tyler pushed her wrists further up her back, sending debilitating pain through her arms.
Tyler grabbed the back of her shirt and lifted her ass into the air, getting her onto her knees, then pushed the shirt up to her waist revealing her petite bare ass, with nothing covering her cute little pussy but a soft patch of strawberry peach fuzz.
“Huh!” Tyler chuckled to himself. For a few moments nothing happened. She was beginning to think he was having second thoughts and started squirming again, trying to turn around, but Tyler grabbed her braids with his free hand and stopped her, whispering forcefully into her ear. “Stay still!” She could feel movement on the couch behind her and heard the sound of a zipper. Why wasn’t Elizabeth waking up?!
On the TV, wheels screeched and people shouted as a predictable car chase was in full swing.
Tyler shoved her forward, so her chest was on the arm rest, and her head hung off the end. A light cotton handkerchief was stuffed into her mouth before she could yell. Tyler’s right hand gripped her jaw shut and he shifted his weight. Amy felt the warm touch of his penis press against the soft short hair on her pussy. Images of the rape video ran on a loop in her mind, but this was different. It was really happening. Her heart pumped fear to every square millimeter of her skin.
“Try to stay quiet now,” he whispered, as though it was all some kind of game, and started to press his penis into her flesh. She felt the head of his cock push past her outer labia, and press against her inner lips. The stinging, burning sensation of skin and flesh being stretched made her flinch and buck. He pressed harder and she whined in pain, but she was no louder than the TV.
After a long moment of unsuccessful penetration, Tyler leaned back and grunted in amusement. Amy sucked air in and out through her nose as fast as she could, but with adrenaline surging, it wasn’t quite enough and she started getting light headed. She felt his fingers probe and rub her little pussy lips and heard throat clearing noises, then the sound of spitting. When he leaned forward again, his cock felt slimy and it slipped past her outer lips once more with ease but still barely parted her inner lips.
Tyler leaned hard into her. She wailed and tears welled up in her eyes, but he did not relent. She could feel his cock between her lips rimming out her vaginal opening, but her poor hole was just too small.
“Unnnghhhhh” Tyler groaned softly in pleasure. He leaned back, easing the pressure off and Amy sighed with relief, but before she could inhale again, he thrust forward violently, pumping his hips and managed to ram the head of his cock into her tiny cunt.
She let forth a guttural, desperate wail, and cried, but the now soggy cloth in her mouth dampened her shouts as before.
On the TV, a shootout had begun, intercut with another character in a fistfight.
“Ohhh Jesus Christ that’s tight!” Tyler sighed in a loud whisper.
He tightened his grip on her wrists and jaw then started giving quick powerful thrusts a few seconds apart, gaining more penetration with each one. A quarter inch deeper, a half inch, each time he moaned softly. Amy whimpered pathetically with each one until she was openly sobbing.
After multiple thrusts she began to feel the slap of his balls against the front of her pussy and he paused.
“Hhhmmmmmm,” he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “you feel sooooo good.”
Amy continued to sob for a few minutes, but Tyler remained solid inside her.
“Relax, let it happen. Your body knows what to do.”
She begged him, “please just take it out, PLEASE” over and over, “it hurts!” but of course her pleas only sounded like more crying. Yet as the moments passed, her body did start to adjust to the massive invasion; not because she was following his advice, but because it was inevitable. Her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes.

“Ahhhh that’s good,” Tyler praised her once she’d stopped whimpering. He took his hand away from her mouth and let go of her wrists. She brought her hands down to support her weight against the arm of the couch. She didn’t cry out, she didn’t have the energy, and what would have been the point? Instead she bit down on the cloth to cope with the pain.
The movie continued with dramatic banter between the hero and the psychopath.
Tyler leaned back and stood upright, placing his hands on her hips. Amy’s waist was so tiny, they nearly went all the way around her body.
Holding her firmly, he began to pump back and forth in very short strokes, but her tiny cunt gripped his cock so tightly that it didn’t slide in and out. Instead the skin of his cock merely shifted back and forth over his erection.
“Ohhh God,” he moaned, “I’ve never been this hard!”
Amy clenched her eyes shut. It felt like her internal organs were getting scrambled, she furrowed her brow, but endured. Tyler pumped harder, but not faster, letting out quiet sighs of ecstasy.
Amy couldn’t help herself. “Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!” she began to whimper quietly with each thrust, biting down on the cloth gag. Needles of pain tingled throughout her entire body.
Dramatic music swelled from the speakers as the final showdown between good and evil erupted on screen, washing the living room in red shifting light.
“That’s it baby,” Tyler encouraged her.
Amy arched her back and her toes curled upwards. Tyler started pushing harder in quick thrusts.
“Yahh! Ahhh! Eeee! Eeeee!!” Amy whimpered in high pitched squeals through her gag. Her fingers found her nipples and she squeezed them.
“Ohhh fuck yes, little girl!” Tyler said as he saw what she was doing. “Unghhh! UNGHH!” He thrust as hard as he could.
“AHHH! Ouch! OW! AAAA!” Amy couldn’t help it, she opened her mouth and screamed. Tyler grabbed her jaw again in a split second and her pigtails with his other hand. He shoved hard and his cock penetrated another half inch deeper, hitting bottom. Amy bucked and arched her back, letting out a deep throated cry of pain, but Tyler’s grip was absolute. With the head of his cock pressed tight against her cervix, he humped her mercilessly.
Fresh tears poured forth from Amy’s eyes. Pain and pleasure were driven through her body like twin spikes. Her legs gave out and she wept in shame and ecstasy as her body convulsed. She was drowning in a world of sensation and overstimulation. She lost all control of her muscles, twitched violently, heaved and shuddered, wept and moaned at the same time. Incoherent gurgles and desperate cries escaped her throat.
Tyler soon followed suit, unable to hold himself back any longer, once her cunt started to spasm around his shaft. “Aaahhhhrrrmmmmghhh! Ohhh fuck! FUCK FUCK! FUCK!!” Tyler cried out in a hoarse voice as he came inside the vise grip of her little pussy.

Tyler’s cock pulsed and flinched in the aftermath still embedded in her flesh. He leaned forward, putting his hands on the arm rest to either side of the petite girl beneath him. They both took long deep breaths in and out.
The room darkened as the light from the TV faded for the credits.
Amy cried, whimpering softly. Once Tyler had the strength back in his arms, he held her close and leaned back, sitting on the couch with her in his lap, his cock still inside her body. He held her tenderly and brushed the tears away, kissing her cheeks lovingly, kissing her forehead. He took the rag out of her mouth, and rubbed gently at her bruised wrists.
She sobbed quietly in shuddering breaths, huddled against his chest, cocooned in his embrace, before opening her red puffy eyes and looking into his gaze.
“Hey little A,” he smiled at her, “You did great. You are so amazing! I know that was very hard for you.”
Amy couldn’t help herself, despite all of what just happened. She smiled and laughed the way one does after a good cry that makes you feel better.
“Yeah,” she squeaked, “you noticed?”
The two of them laughed together and then both winced, everything was sore and the slightest movement stirred Amy’s guts. Slowly, gingerly, Tyler helped her lift off his half softened cock. It was covered in cum and a little blood, but it didn’t matter.
He set her back down on his lap, pulled the blanket over the two of them, and held her close, kissing her face.
“You came inside me.” She said flatly, feeling the words, trying to understand the reality. She put a hand on her tummy, imagining she could feel the cum oozing around inside her.
Amy’s head began to clear and her eyes adjusted to the dim light. On the other side of the couch Elizabeth sat cross legged, looking directly at Amy and grinning from ear to ear.
“So... how was it?” She asked.
Amy opened her mouth but was at a loss for words. All she could manage was an expression of disbelief.
“I know, right?” Elizabeth winked. “Oh and,” she reached out to pick up the gagging rag. “I’ll take those back now. Next time just tell me if you’re not wearing any underwear.” Elizabeth unfolded the small bit of cloth, revealing it to be a pair of panties. “You were supposed to be gagged with your own panties... I really hope these aren’t ruined!”
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline rhurac2

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Re: Little A
« Reply #2 on: June 18, 2021, 05:48:10 PM »
Glad to see you back and writing again.  Looking forward to your new characters/stories. 

I still chuckled even thou the line was coming....

“You were supposed to be gagged with your own panties... I really hope these aren’t ruined!”
 :emot_rotf.gif:  +merit

Offline EnabranTain

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Re: Little A
« Reply #3 on: June 20, 2021, 04:55:54 PM »
Glad to see you back and writing again.  Looking forward to your new characters/stories. 

I still chuckled even thou the line was coming....

“You were supposed to be gagged with your own panties... I really hope these aren’t ruined!”
 :emot_rotf.gif:  +merit

Thank you! I suppose that was a bit corny!
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline EnabranTain

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Re: Little A
« Reply #4 on: June 20, 2021, 04:58:51 PM »
I believe this is the last chapter that had been posted previously. New content to be coming soon.

Content warning: underage characters, incest

Chapter 3
The Beach House

Amy had so many questions, but Elizabeth insisted, in a kind, motherly way, that the questions would wait until tomorrow. Tyler carried her to the master bathroom which had a small, but elegant jacuzzi tub. Elizabeth drew a bath, then stripped quickly and got in first, helping Tyler lower Amy into the water. It was just short of scalding, but tolerable. Elizabeth added lavender scent and light bubbles to the water while Amy acclimated to the temperature. The master bath had been designed by Elizabeth’s mother. It was carpeted in plush wine colored fiber up to a foot from the tub. There were sleek twin sinks with brushed nickel fixtures set in marble counters and wall sconces that held candles. Tyler lit these candles and turned off the lights before leaving to get himself cleaned up in the smaller bathroom.
Amy had not seen her best friend completely nude since they were little girls sharing a bath before bedtime. Now, here they were, about to do the same again, but under vastly different circumstances. Elizabeth had a natural grace. The movements of her hands, the focus of her pale blue eyes, even the way she walked was precise and dignified. She had grown into a classic hourglass figure, practically a living pinup with flowing straight blond hair, large firm breasts, and neatly trimmed blond pubic hair. She hummed softly while pouring water over Amy’s exposed shoulders. She loosened Amy’s braids with deft hands and cradled the base of her skull so she could lie back to soak her hair. “Do you want the jets on?” She asked. Amy nodded.
The water sprang to life. Amy was surrounded by gentle swirling currents and smooth white noise. The jets behind her back and neck massaged her body with fizzy pressure. Amy closed her eyes and sighed, letting her muscles relax, listening to her friend hum beautifully, and took in the calming scent.
She could almost have fallen asleep, but for the soreness and pain that still lingered inside her recently deflowered sex. Elizabeth stroked Amy’s forehead and cheeks, rubbed her chest lovingly, and kept the water nice and hot.
When Amy’s muscles could relax no further, Elizabeth let the water drain and turned on a handheld shower head. She lathered up a soft body wash sponge and scrubbed every inch of Amy’s body, taking special care to be extra gentle around her bruised jaw, hips, and private parts. Then she washed Amy’s hair, massaged the scalp, and rinsed it out, going on to rinse all the soap residue off of Amy’s entire body with stinging hot water. The room was filled with scented steam by the time Elizabeth helped Amy to stand, and got her wrapped into a large fluffy white towel. Elizabeth donned a white bathrobe herself and dried Amy’s hair with a smaller towel and dryer, then combed her hair out, and braided it once more.
Tyler returned with a clean set of Elizabeth’s pajamas, which were of course, too big and Amy refused the bottoms, opting to simply wear the top which was big enough to cover her bottom. They got her on her feet and started leading her to the door when Amy suddenly leaned into Elizabeth, hugging her as hard as she could. Slow tears trickled down her cheeks. Without saying a word, she looked up to make eye contact with Tyler and pulled him into the embrace as well.

Amy slept contentedly that night as the small spoon in Elizabeth’s arms until there was a knocking on the bedroom door.
“If you want any breakfast, better get down there before it’s all gone!” Elizabeth’s dad shouted. He didn’t believe in sleeping in, even on the weekends, and tried to enforce this policy on the entire family. It was 7:00am and although it had been a late and exhausting night, Amy felt remarkably refreshed. Still, she swayed a little when she stood up. Her insides felt like they had been taken out and put back in.
Elizabeth sat her down before they left the room and applied makeup to hide the bruising on her face.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth looked worried as she applied the concealer, “He wasn’t supposed to be so…” she rolled her eyes, “sometimes he just gets…”
“It’s ok, Lizzy,” Amy took hold of Elizabeth’s hands and looked her in the eyes. Amy still felt a mixture of emotions, but she knew Elizabeth, and could see in those eyes that she had tried to do the right thing. “I’ll be ok,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

They took it slow going down to the breakfast table, and Amy felt much better after getting some food. She was able to engage in the morning banter almost as usual. When Tyler joined them, he gave Elizabeth the slightest of questioning looks, and Elizabeth replied with the slightest of smiles and a reassuring head nod.
“... and what are you two up to today?” Elizabeth’s dad wanted to know.
“Uh, well, we were thinking we’d go back with Tyler and spend the day at the beach,” said Elizabeth.
“You know I don’t like it when you go down there on your own,” her father said.
“That’s why Amy’s going with me!”
Her father did not look impressed.
“It’s not that bad. It’s a safe place,” said Tyler.
“She just wants to go ‘cause she’s got a boooy-frieeeend,” the youngest sister teased.
“I do not!” Elizabeth said through clenched teeth, shooting eye daggers at her annoying little sister.
“She came back with hickies last time!”
“I told you, I ran into a fence on my skates!”
“Yeah, a fence named ‘boyfriend’! Boyfriend! Boyfriend! Boyfriend!” The brat chanted. She was quick enough however, to jump off her chair and bolt out of the room, mere inches out of Elizabeth’s grasp, who chased after the imp promising to super glue her mouth shut.
Tyler spoke up, “They’ll be fine, dad. They’ll be near my place and they can stay the night. I’ll bring them back on Sunday.” Tyler winked at Amy and stole a quick glance at her bare legs. Amy’s stomach jumped as butterflies quickly filled her chest and goosebumps broke out all over her body. Amy could now only guess what a weekend alone with Tyler and Elizabeth might entail.

Amy was still nervous by the time she and Elizabeth crawled into the back seat of Tyler’s modest hatchback but she could hardly contain herself any longer. All was silent until they were safely two blocks away from the house, and then the floodgates opened.
“Alright! How did, I mean, WHAT?... argh!” Amy closed her eyes and balled up her little fists. She couldn’t even form a sentence and just glared at Elizabeth.
“I was worried about you, A! You told me yourself that your… urges were getting worse! I thought that finally, you know, getting some, would... you know, make you feel... normal!” Elizabeth clenched her eyes shut, “I mean SATISFIED, for once, not that you’re not normal, I mean, not that your needs aren’t normal.” Elizabeth was turning red. Her prepared explanation had sounded far better in her head, and the enormity of what she’d done was starting to sink in. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” She looked down. “WE! Tyler and I we didn’t want to - Tyler kept saying he didn’t think you were ready! I, I insisted... I thought it would... you know, help.”
Amy waited for more, but Elizabeth only shrugged weakly.
“No, Lizzy,” Amy shook her head, “I know exactly why you did it, and... ready or not… I think, maybe… you were right. Really.”
Elizabeth’s lip trembled. She couldn’t hold back a tear from falling, but quickly wiped it away before it ruined her makeup. She looked up and met Amy’s eyes. She opened her mouth, but words failed her.
“What I meant,” Amy continued, pointing an accusatory finger, “is WHAT THE FUCK is going on between you two?!” Her eyes bounced back and forth between the siblings.

Caught a little off guard, Tyler and Elizabeth recounted a story of awkward evenings alone discussing crushes and their burgeoning sexual feelings among other inappropriate topics, getting comfortable being more physically close, and then somehow ending up doing more than siblings are supposed to do.
Tyler came to the end of his explanation. “I honestly thought it was all just in my head, I decided I wasn’t going to do ANYTHING, but then suddenly she’s sucking my cock one night before I even knew what was happening.”
“Oh WHATEVER!” Elizabeth roller her eyes. “You sat down next to me in your boxers with your cock, just… hanging out,” she tilted her head and looked sideways at Amy, “fully erect!”
“I was not hanging out of my boxers! You pulled it out! And you were totally naked, remember?”
“I was not!”
“Yes you were!”
Elizabeth paused and looked up in thought for a second, “Ok, I was naked, yes, but you came in while I was getting dressed! What did you expect?”
“And what part of getting dressed involved sucking my cock?!”
“Well you wouldn’t leave, I had to get rid of you somehow!”
That last comment hung in the air for a moment before they all started laughing.
“I guess it didn’t work,” said Amy.
“Yeah, not so much,” said Elizabeth. “And then like, five minutes later, he was on top of me and then… inside me.” There was a moment of silence. Elizabeth looked at her brother as he drove and a sly smile grew on her face.
“Anyway, ever since then,” said Tyler, “we’ve had to keep the secret. It’s not always easy.”
Amy shook her head, hardly able to believe the tale. “But why didn’t you tell me, Lizzy? After everything I’ve told you about me?”
“I’m sorry, little A, we just couldn’t risk telling ANYONE, and I didn’t want you to have more secrets to keep. But, when I saw how frustrated you were getting, I just thought… maybe this could be the answer.”
“I am sorry if it was too much,” Tyler glanced back. “I got too excited; I told Lizzy I didn’t want to do it unless you were at least as old as she was when we first did it.”
“I told you! She’s FOURTEEN!” said Elizabeth exasperated.
Tyler looked back again, “Seriously? Is that right?”
“Yeah,” Amy said, feeling a bit self conscious.
“Fucking hell, I just, you know…”
“What!?” said Elizabeth.
“No, it’s just, last night I figured Liz had to be wrong.”
“Why would you think I was wrong?!”
“No, it’s nothing. You were right, I just thought maybe you were wrong and she was actually younger than you thought... you know, just ‘cuz...”
“‘Cuz what?” said Elizabeth.
“It’s just… she’s SO much tighter than you were that first time, and I … HEY!!!”
Elizabeth had slapped him in the back of the head and continued hitting him repeatedly as the car swerved and Tyler fought to keep control. Amy laughed and watched the farce.

After a little more than an hour of driving, they arrived at Tyler’s apartment. It was an older complex, painted dark blue, and looked a little worse for wear, but it was only two blocks from the beach.
The moment they walked in the front door a change came over Elizabeth. Amy may have been the only person in the world who could tell, but she looked like she’d come home.
It was a studio apartment with a small kitchen, half open to the main room, and a small bathroom opposite. The living area was dominated by a king size bed and box spring in the corner lying directly on the carpet. A 60 inch TV was mounted on the wall across from the foot of the bed, with an older gaming console connected. A small dining table was piled with dirty tools and a half dismantled motorcycle engine.
The room was stuffy, and smelled mildly of Tyler’s odor, but not so bad as to be repulsive.
“Oh God, get the A/C going!” Elizabeth called to her brother as she slipped off her shoes and tossed them next to the door. She pointed out where Amy could put her overnight bag, and set her own down next to it. Elizabeth then unzipped the back of her dress and started pulling it off while walking to the refrigerator. “Make yourself at home, it’ll cool off in a few minutes. You want a lemonade?”
Tyler was also disrobing down to his boxers, pulling off his shirt and tossing it onto a pile of clothes. Amy stood next to the door with her feet together, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. Elizabeth approached her wearing nothing but bra and panties and offered her a glass. She smiled seeing Amy staring at her brother, “yeah, sorry I should have warned you. We’re kinda informal when we're together here.” Amy took the glass of lemonade. Elizabeth looked around the room, “I know it’s not exactly posh, but it’s our own little world, we don’t have to hide anything here.”

The A/C unit rattled away and slowly the temperature dropped to a non-stifling level. Tyler and Elizabeth took turns playing a car racing game on the console while Amy watched. The two of them were rather competitive and engaged in blatant acts of distraction whenever the other was in a difficult spot. It was obviously an ongoing thing between them, an added facet to the game.
Amy cradled her lemonade, sitting on the bed leaning on a pillow against the wall, and watched the antics. Elizabeth could be quite impish, waiting until just the right moment to flick Tyler’s ear or tickle his armpits. Tyler was more brute force, coughing loudly or yelling suddenly, even shoving, to which she’d scream, “No fair!” as if there were rules to the cheating. Neither of them had won a race in half an hour and the tension was building. Tyler had taken to snapping Elizabeth’s bra strap and jumping on the bed to jostle her about. Elizabeth escalated to biting and threatened to scatter all the parts for the motorcycle engine, but Tyler persisted. Finally he was near completing a race in the lead.
Elizabeth sat down on the floor right below the screen and eyed her brother seductively, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. Tyler’s eyes glanced down repeatedly, but he was still holding his concentration. Elizabeth let the bra drop and began massaging her tits, looking at her brother, “oh Tyler…” she cooed at him. The next time he looked down, she quickly lifted a breast and licked her own nipple.
“Lizzy…” Tyler said warningly. He was rounding the last turn before the final lap, but the bulge in his boxers was noticeable.
“What?” Elizabeth said in the most innocent of voices. “It’s just so hot in here,” she began to slowly push her panties down.
“You know what!” Said Tyler, trying not to look.
“Ohhhh mmmm” Elizabeth moaned and bit her lower lip. She spread her legs open, knees in the air, pitching her hips forward to give him the best possible view.
Amy blushed despite herself. She’d never seen Elizabeth act this way.
“Fuck!” Tyler failed to turn quick enough and ended up driving off into the dirt, losing the lead.
“Ohhhh Tyler…” Elizabeth teased, her arms wrapped around the outsides of her legs, with her fingertips spreading her pussy lips apart, showing her glistening perfect pink flower.
Tyler’s cock stood up, poking out of the fly in his boxers. The AI car that had taken the lead ran him off the road just before the finish line. Elizabeth squealed in victory as she heard the crash and the announcement that Tyler had lost the race yet again.
“God damn it!” Tyler threw the controller down and stormed off to the kitchen, fuming. Elizabeth gleefully scooped up the controller and hopped onto the bed to start a new race ignoring her brother's frustration.
Amy eyed him nervously as he disappeared around the corner. She moved over closer to Elizabeth and put the lemonade glass on the floor. “Is he ok?” she asked.
“Oh, don’t worry about him, he hates losing.” Elizabeth stuck out her tongue in concentration and leaned to the left as her car careened around a corner.
Tyler came back with a beer bottle in his hand and leaned against the wall at the edge of the kitchen. He watched Elizabeth without making any attempt to interfere with her run, but Amy could see he was still sporting an erection.
“Final lap!” An announcement sounded, and Elizabeth’s attention was completely wrapped up in the game. She didn’t notice Tyler finish his beer and Amy was too late in shouting a warning before he’d crossed the room.

Tyler grabbed Elizabeth by the back of the neck and ripped the controller out of her hands, tossing it over his shoulder. Elizabeth shrieked, as she was tossed back onto the bed. Tyler pulled his boxers off and got on top of her as she was trying to get up.
“Sore loser,” she managed to get out before Tyler’s hand was at her throat. He shoved her down and got between her legs.
Amy hugged her knees, her heart caught in her throat.
“MMMhhhgh!” Tyler grunted and Elizabeth shuddered as he penetrated her. Elizabeth cried out and slapped at his shoulders.
“Ow! That fucking hurt!” She continued slapping him, but he caught her by the wrist and pinned her arm down next to her head and started to fuck her. The mattress rocked back and forth, hitting the wall with soft thumping noises.
Elizabeth grabbed Tyler’s wrist at her throat with her free hand and looked into his eyes with a serious expression. They stared at one another almost unblinking as his thrusts gradually became harder and deeper. Tyler brought both hands to her throat and she gripped each of his wrists in turn. Elizabeth kept the stoic expression while her face reddened but his onslaught continued without a pause. Beat after beat, thud after thud, his toned body was relentless.
Amy trembled but was frozen in place, unable to look away.
Elizabeth’s face reddened by the second until, finally she couldn’t hold back the whimpers of defeat and she broke the gaze, squirming chaotically.
Tyler watched her struggle and grinned wickedly, slowing his pace and enjoying her yelps each time he drove his cock into her. She reached up and pushed his face away weakly before her arms went limp and she passed out. Tyler leaned back and released her throat. Elizabeth gasped for air a moment later and pulled her arms in tight against her chest with her hands below her chin, squeezing her tits between her upper arms. Her body shook and she closed her eyes while an orgasm ran its course. Tyler held her hips and watched her body tremble, his eyes losing focus as her cunt clenched and released around his cock.
When Elizabeth’s arms flopped down to her sides and she began taking deep breaths, sweat breaking out on her brow, Amy thought it was over; but Tyler rolled his sister onto her stomach like a rag doll, lifted her ass, and spread her cheeks apart.
Elizabeth struggled up to her elbows, looking drunk and bleary. Tyler spit down into her crack, and rubbed the saliva around her butthole with his thumb. “Oh God!” Elizabeth panted, looking panicked. She tried to turn over and push him away, but Tyler pushed her back into position and lined up his cock with his sister’s puckered sphincter, gripped her hips and pushed in. “AAAAaaahhhh,” Elizabeth let out an airy cry. Her eyes went wide and slid off to oblivion. The bed rocked again as Tyler fucked his sister’s ass without mercy.
Amy couldn’t hold back any more; she pushed her skirt off and began rubbing herself, lying on her back right next to her best friend, listening to her wail each time her brother shoved forward.
“Oh Jesus! Oh God! Ahhh! AAAHHH!” Elizabeth cried.
Amy winced in pain as she touched her clitoris, but she was too aroused and her clit throbbed.
A jarring slap pierced the air and Elizabeth screamed, “OW! God damn it!” Tyler slapped her ass again. “Ow! Fuck!”
Amy leaned forward a little bit to try putting a finger inside herself and to get a better view of Elizabeth being spanked. When she looked up, she saw Tyler staring at her. She’d never seen such lust in anyone’s eyes. Amy watched him watching her; she spread her legs open and started to finger fuck herself slowly. It stung, but she needed to cum so badly and with all the sex in the air, she couldn’t stop herself.
At the sight of Amy’s middle finger disappearing into her tiny cunt, Tyler twisted his grip on Elizabeth’s hips, forcing her to arch her back and rammed into her balls deep.
Elizabeth screamed without restraint and fell down onto her chest. It took a few moments before she regained control enough to turn her head. She saw Amy on her back, fingering herself out of control and crying in pain. Elizabeth lurched sideways to take hold of Amy’s arms, pulling them away from between her legs. “No baby, you’ll hurt yourself!” she said in as calm a voice as she was able while Tyler’s cock invaded her bowels.
Amy squeezed her legs together and whimpered. “I have to!”
“No baby! Unghhh! It’s…AAHHH!!... It’s ok!” Elizabeth tried to keep her focus. Amy closed her eyes and whimpered pathetically.
“Here baby,” Elizabeth leaned on her side as much as she was able and moved Amy’s hands to her own ample chest. Tyler adjusted his stance behind Elizabeth to allow for her turned position. Amy took hold gently at first, squeezing her best friend’s perfect breasts in wonder. She looked at Elizabeth with doe eyes, pleading for release. Elizabeth winced as Tyler’s cock shoved into her once more. Amy’s heart raced, she squeezed her legs together and played with Elizabeth’s tits, pinching the nipples hard. Elizabeth screamed and moaned, holding Amy by the shoulders, she pulled her in close, pressing their foreheads together.
Tyler raised a leg so he was on one knee, reached down and shoved his thumb into Elizabeth’s cunt. He gripped her flesh between his thumb and the flat of his fingers, pressing down on her g-spot. He held her tight and pulled, bucking his hips at the same time, getting his cock completely up her ass.
Elizabeth wailed incoherently. Amy breathed in her friend’s exhale, hot and moist, tasting it. She groped desperately at Elizabeth’s tits and watched her writhe.
Their eyes locked and Elizabeth leaned forward, pressing her lips against Amy’s. Sparks flew, Amy rolled her thumbs around Elizabeth’s nipples. Elizabeth held Amy’s face as they kissed. Their lips parted and passionately, their tongues met.
“Ohhhh my God!” The sight sent Tyler over the edge. He yelled like an animal and came deep inside his sister. Elizabeth gasped, feeling his release and started to cum with him. She moaned into Amy’s mouth, causing her to react as well, and the three of them all came together as a heaving mass of hot flesh. Tyler rubbed his fingers over Elizabeth’s clit, pinching her g-spot with his thumb while her pussy drenched his hand.
Amy’s hips bucked and she rubbed her legs back and forth fighting against the overwhelming urge to touch herself. Instead she squeezed Elizabeth’s nipples and shoved her tongue deep into her mouth.
Elizabeth put her arms around her friend, and held tight as orgasm after orgasm shot through her like electric shocks.

The three held each other in the grips of climax until every ounce of energy was spent. Tyler pulled back and flopped down onto the bed next to his sister, with Amy on the other side.
The two girls dripped with sweat and Elizabeth held Amy to her bosom.
Minutes passed; the rumbling of the air conditioner and the music from the video game, which had been lost in the background became noticeable once more. The air was hot, filled with the smell of cum and breath, too much for the belabored air conditioning unit to handle.
Amy was the first to sit up. She wiped sweat off of Elizabeth’s brow and pushed the tangled hair out of her friend’s face.
“What the hell just happened?” Elizabeth wondered out loud, faintly, looking up to the ceiling.
Tyler shrugged while still laying on his back, “You won.”
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline EnabranTain

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Re: Little A
« Reply #5 on: June 21, 2021, 08:10:42 PM »
Amy's adventure continues.
Content summary: Amy has a rough day, less sexual content in this one (but more will be coming soon)

Chapter 4
Injury

Life for Amy, Elizabeth, and Tyler could not have been better. Over the next few months they frequently found excuses to be alone together, mostly at Tyler’s apartment. Because of the long standing friendship between Amy and Elizabeth, their spending a great deal of time together did not arouse any suspicions, and their presence together gave them a triple protection: No one would suspect the siblings of having an incestuous affair because Amy was always with them, no one would suspect Tyler was misusing Amy because Elizabeth was always there, and no one would suspect the girls of fooling around because the older brother was always watching.
Together, they explored their sexual desires as they wished. Amy and Tyler were well matched, his aggressiveness feeding her need for rough treatment. Elizabeth found she greatly enjoyed pleasing another girl, and Tyler loved watching the two girls play together. They formed a genuine trio, getting along famously, even when not fucking each other’s brains out. They had been friends before, of course, but a deeper connection had now been forged.
When in school or on their own, Elizabeth and Amy restricted their behavior to that of simple friends, with the occasional kiss if no one was looking, or more if Amy was needing help to satisfy a sudden sexual urge. Having a shared secret made Amy feel excited instead of isolated. For the first time in her life, she began to feel normal and was free of the daily dread over going to school. For months they enjoyed a sort of bliss without anyone else realizing why. Amy even began showing real skill in art class, finding joy in drawing and using colored pencils and charcoal. She never imagined she could be so enthralled by something that wasn’t sexual.

Yet it was not all happily ever after. Visits to Tyler’s apartment became less frequent. His job hours had changed despite his protests and he was busy most weekends. Amy and Elizabeth’s classmates did eventually notice the change in their behavior too, even if they couldn’t say what it was exactly. It had already been a minor scandal among the popular crowd the way Elizabeth spent so much time with the school pariah. But it had always been brushed off as Elizabeth simply being charitable to the girl she had been forced to spend time with as a child. But now, circumstances were different. Their parents had grown apart since Amy’s family began attending a different church so the girls didn’t share any obligatory activities outside of school, and they weren’t even in the same grade. Rumors began to spread with a narrative that Amy was a leech, always hanging around Elizabeth, and that Elizabeth was just too polite to tell her to fuck off.
It certainly didn’t help the way Amy would look at Elizabeth, even when she was trying to hide her emotions. And it got worse, for even though the rumor was about Amy secretly being in love with Elizabeth, Amy’s reputation somehow evolved into “shameless pervert.” Her attempts to dress and look more mature to compensate for her petite, underdeveloped body became proof that she was a slut who would fuck anyone.
And because rumors need not follow any logical bounds, Amy was somehow simultaneously painted as obsessed with Elizabeth, and sleeping with every guy in school. Elizabeth did, of course, try to quell the rumors as best she could; but in the end, the other girls would believe whatever they wanted to believe. Narrative was more powerful than truth.
Everywhere she turned, Amy got disgusted looks and whispers behind her back. If she’d had more confidence, she might have been able to dismiss their stories of her perverse sexual exploits and put an end to the cycle. But her denials were weak, either because she was convinced that no one would believe her, or because she secretly would have enjoyed it if they were true.
The icing on the cake was an incident in which Amy was shoved down the giant stairway in the center of the school building. She slid down the staircase like it was a bumpy slide, her skirt getting driven up over her waist, and her tiny ass getting scraped and bruised. When she finally came to a stop at the bottom, half the school saw that she was naked from the waist down. Every phone in the crowd flashed as photos and video were taken. The pictures of her sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs, from a hundred different angles, would never stop circulating among the students.

After that, the stories began to give way to cruel jokes, and the jokes led to overt bullying. Her locker was defaced with “whore” and “cunt” written in lipstick. She was bombarded with social media messages telling her to kill herself, that she was fat, that she was ugly. Guys from school sent her dick pics constantly. One day, Elizabeth stopped her in the hallway to remove a note taped to her back that said “rape me.”
Elizabeth redoubled her efforts to support Amy, chastising her friends who had engaged in the bullying, but to little effect. They had decided that Elizabeth was just too nice, the real vicium of all this, and rushed to “defend” her against Amy’s relentless lust. The two best friends could hardly get a moment of privacy. The fact that Elizabeth spoke out directly in opposition to the narrative was of no consequence. Thus the final injustice materialized, that Elizabeth grew even more popular and enjoyed an enhanced reputation as the girl who bravely endured Amy’s perverse onslaught with dignity, just as Amy’s reputation sank to new lows.

++++++++

The echoes of sneakers on the linoleum floors had died out, all except for one pair. Elizabeth decided to try one last classroom before giving up, and was rewarded.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Elizabeth said with both exasperation and relief “School ended half an hour ago. What are you doing here?”
“Nothing,” Amy shrugged, looking down at the sketchbook she was drawing in. It was about the only thing that could take her mind off of her troubles lately.
“It’s time to go home,” Elizabeth said, but she sat down at the desk next to her best friend.
Amy glanced up at the clock. “Yeah, I’ll head out in a few minutes. I just wanted to finish this.”
Elizabeth looked down at what Amy was drawing. Amy’s skills as an artist had really improved and Elizabeth smiled, feeling proud of her friend, but also disturbed over what she was drawing.
“That’s really good…” Elizabeth began in a concerned motherly tone.
“But I can’t let anyone see it,” Amy rolled her eyes, “yeah I’m not stupid!”
“It is really good,” Elizabeth emphasized, “it’s just…”
“Fucked up. Yeah, I know.” Amy paused for a moment and then scribbled across the image harshly with the pencil in a reverse grip, like she was stabbing her own drawing.
“Stop that!” Elizabeth grabbed Amy’s hand, but Amy continued to stare at the page. They sat in silence for a moment.
“Why are you really still here?” Elizabeth finally asked.
Amy’s eyes looked towards the door. “As if you care,” she said.
“Of course I care!”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Amy scoffed.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Elizabeth demanded a bit too harshly.
Amy shrugged, “nothing.”
Elizabeth took Amy by the shoulders and forced her to make eye contact. “What is going on with you? Look, I know it’s been hard…”
“Hard?! HARD?!” Amy shouted. “Everyone hates me, they think I… that I…” Amy’s eyes began to water, but she turned herself away from Elizabeth’s grip before there were any tears. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know?”
“Doing what, what little A?”
“Don’t call me that! That’s what I mean. You don’t have to keep being my friend. Everyone thinks you hate me anyways.”
“Well everyone’s wrong,” Elizabeth said firmly.
Amy stood and picked up her backpack from the floor. “I have to get home,” she said and stormed out of the room.
“Amy, wait!” Elizabeth called after her. She stood up to give chase but stopped at the door frame, realizing Amy had left her obscene drawing on the table. Elizabeth watched Amy disappear quickly down the corridor before going back into the classroom. She picked up her own backpack, and the sketchbook with Amy’s most recent creation on top. It was marred by a few angry gashes of pencil lead, but it was a remarkable depiction of Amy herself, naked and hanging by a noose, lifeless, while two boys with their pants around their ankles jerked off, splattering her with cum.

Amy walked swiftly past the lockers, and wiped tears away like they were bugs crawling on her face. She reached the exterior doors and approached them cautiously, peeking through the narrow rectangular windows with only one eye. She looked back and forth and back again before opening the door and resuming her quick pace across the parking lot.
The school was built on a small rise, and the lot was bordered with a wall of arborvitae. Amy walked along it, the fresh evergreen scent lifting her spirits somewhat, until she came to the break where a footpath exited onto Lakefront Drive. As soon as she stepped through the arborvitae, a girl’s voice called out from behind her.
“I told you she hadn’t left yet!”
Amy spun around to find three of Elizabeth’s popular friends walking towards her. Amy started walking backwards, trying to keep her distance without taking her eyes off the threatening girls.
“Hey we’re talking to you, bitch!” a second girl said, pointing at her.

Elizabeth frowned at the drawing. It was a pity to see her friend’s talent being used in such a manner, on top of the disturbing implications of the drawing itself. The notebook had become something of an obsession of Amy’s in the last few months. She was always hiding behind it, a way to escape and to keep from having to look at her classmates. Yet the skill was undeniable. Grotesque as the image was, it had good line definition and realistic shading. Elizabeth flipped to the first page. The drawing was of herself, clearly, but more rudimentary. She flipped to the second page and found another attempt, this time it had improved. A few more pages on and the attempts at Elizabeth’s portrait had gotten markedly better. After that were smaller sketches of the two of them together, and of Tyler.
The drawings became more cartoonish and silly. There was a drawing of Tyler riding a motorcycle naked, standing up and holding his erect penis, comically exaggerated to look like it was as big as the motorcycle, that made Elizabeth laugh out loud. The drawings alternated between normal subjects like people and animals that she had been experimenting with, drawing them several times over, and obscene comics featuring sex between various classmates and a great deal of nudity.

“Just leave me alone!” Amy shouted angrily, still walking backwards.
The leader, Jamie, was probably the cruelest girl in school and a master manipulator. She wore a black pleated skirt and blouse inspired by the classic “school girl” look, even though their school did not use official uniforms. Her henchmen, flanking her, were dressed similarly enough to conform to their leaders trend setting, but different enough to not be copies.
“We just want to talk to you,” Jamie said with a terribly convincing expression of sympathy.
“Yeah, we just wanna ask,” added the second girl, “I mean, what *is* wrong with you?”
“Why are you such a dirty whore?” asked the third girl.
Amy quicked her pace, “Shut up! Leave me alone!”
“Are you retarded or something? What is it?” The chorus of insults continued. “Shouldn’t you be in a special school? Like for dumb people?” Jamie asked.
Amy pivoted to turn and run, but caught her heel on a crack in the sidewalk and fell backwards. The fall was somewhat softened by her backpack, but her head swung down and struck the pavement hard.
The other girls laughed, “Oh fuck! Look at her!”
“What a retard!”
The three of them quickly stood over Amy and peered down at her, unable to contain their laughter. But Jamie soon stopped herself, “now, now, it’s not nice to make fun of the mentally challenged!”
She reached out a helping hand towards Amy. Amy instinctively reached for it in her pain, but when she was half way lifted off the ground, Jamie let go and Amy fell back again, cracking her skull on the pavement a second time. Blinding pain burst through her skull like a firecracker.
“Ohhh… I’m so sorry!” Jamie teased. The other two girls sniggered.
Amy saw stars and put her hands to her head, which made her tight t-shirt shift up and stretch even tighter over her diminutive buds. The shock of the impact left her stunned. She opened her mouth but couldn’t make a sound.
“God, she’s not even wearing a bra, look at that!” said one of Jamie’s henchmen.
“Is she even wearing any underwear this time?” the other asked.
The first girl hooked the toe of her sneaker under the hem of Amy’s skirt and pushed it up along her hip. Amy was hardly aware of it before it was too late.
“Oh gross! I fucking knew it!” the girl exclaimed once the bare side of Amy’s ass was visible. “You fucking slut!” Amy pulled the hem of her skirt down just before a wad of spit impacted her right cheek.

Elizabeth marveled at her friend’s work. She felt a surge of pride at Amy’s abilities, but also shame that she hadn’t seen any of this work before. Amy had become more distant in recent months, but it was only now that Elizabeth realized how out of touch she had become with her best friend. As Elizabeth turned page after page, the drawings began to grow darker. There was a drawing of Amy on the staircase, sprawled naked in front of all the other students while they laughed at her and took photos. There were drawings of Amy holding a razor to her wrists, then one of her on all fours with Tyler holding a pistol shoved up her pussy, and Amy moaning, “I’m ready!” The final drawing before the one she was working on when Elizabeth found her, was of Elizabeth standing behind Amy, impaling her with a knife through the back.
Elizabeth slammed the notebook shut and ran out the door.

The first kick to her shoulder made Amy’s head whiplash. The second blow to her stomach almost made her vomit. After a barrage of kicks to her legs and torso, Amy managed to turn herself over onto all fours in an effort to regain her feet, but her head swam. Her backpack provided a measure of shielding as one of the girls started whipping down on her with a twirling baton, but she was forced back down to her elbows. Amy cried out in pain as her forearms pressed into the asphalt of Lakefront Drive.
Jamie and her cohorts circled while Amy floundered. She crawled slowly trying to reach the nearest house, but it might as well have been across the state.
“Here! Gimme that!” Jamie barked and a second later Amy’s backside was spanked with the baton, drawing out a first real scream from Amy’s throat.
The attackers twittered with self congratulatory chuckles.
Another smack to Amy’s small round butt sent her falling forward onto her chest.
The surface of the street was rough and hot. It burned her skin and smelled like tar.
“Pull her skirt up!” Jamie ordered.
“NO!” Amy begged, but a second later one of the other girls yanked her skirt up so forcefully that it dragged Amy a few feet along the street and ripped along the side seam.
Amy heard the swish of the baton before it struck, and the sting against her bare ass finally brought forth some tears.
After one more smack to her tiny round, reddening ass, Jamie pushed Amy over onto her back with her foot.
Amy fought with all her will to stop the sobbing, but she couldn’t control herself.
Jamie looked down on her prey and dragged the mushroom end of the baton from Amy’s waist up to her solar plexus, catching the bottom hem of Amy’s shirt and pushing it up.
Amy clenched her arms to her chest, trying to keep her tits covered.
The two henchmen, however, quickly pulled her arms aside and stood on her wrists.
For a few moments there was silence, but for Amy’s stuttering breaths and weeping.
Then she heard the snick of scissors.
“No! PLEASE!” Amy begged through her sobs.
Jamie ran the baton up the front of Amy’s shirt, between her tits, resting the tip on her throat. The baton lifted Amy’s shirt off her skin by an inch and Jamie ran the scissors along it as she cut. Snick after snick the scissors worked, slicing the thin material. Amy could feel the bottom blade slide along her tender flesh and the small vibrations as the fibers of her clothing were severed. When the final cut was made, the tension in Amy’s tight, stretched shirt was released and it shrank away towards her back leaving her soft little mounds completely exposed.
The girls stood and stepped back from their victim.
“Maybe you should really think about that other school for retard sluts,” Jamie said. “It just doesn’t look like you’re happy here.”
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline EnabranTain

  • Junior
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  • Posts: 232
  • Merits 44
Re: Little A
« Reply #6 on: June 23, 2021, 04:48:50 PM »
Content summary: The aftermath of the previous day sets up even more complications for Amy.

Chapter 5
Recovery

The smell of the ambulance was about the only thing Amy could remember of her hospital visit. She could vaguely recall being lifted into the white vehicle, and injected with something, then the shapes of the EMTs moving about over her as the sirens blared. But other than the alcohol scent of that ride to the ER, Amy could not recall how she got home.
Her chest felt sore when she inhaled and her head was still bandaged. She lay in bed looking up at the ceiling, awake, even though it was the middle of the night. Moonlight came in through the window. She tried to focus. What had happened? She remembered her father carrying her to her room and helping her get undressed and into her pajama top before putting her to bed. Her mother said something to her father about discussing it in the morning.
Amy sat up and put her feet on the floor. Pain shot through her torso, but she pushed through it and got to her feet. She managed to walk to the light switch and turned it on. Squinting against the cold light, she limped over to the full length mirror on her closet door. The bandage around her head made her look like a mental patient in a horror movie. She felt around her chest and arms, feeling tender spots that made her wince. When her eyes had adjusted enough to the light, she lifted her shirt and counted the bruises on her body. She was shocked at the patchwork of reds, yellows, and purples. They looked like modern art. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at her back. More bruises blossomed across her frail form.
“What are you doing out of bed?” her mother’s voice pierced the stillness of the room.
“I… I couldn’t sleep,” Amy pulled her shirt down quickly.
Her mother clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes, “I told that useless doctor to give you a larger dose,” she crossed the room and put her arm around Amy’s shoulder, herding her back towards the bed. Even in her nightgown, Amy’s mother had an authority about her. Her iron presence of will was not diminished in the slightest by her petite build. Amy had inherited her mother’s genes for height and build, but not her confidence nor her piercing eyes.
“The doctor?” Amy tried to recall the day’s events. She remembered being attacked by Jamie and the other girls. If she’d been smart, she would have stayed with Elizabeth, they never would have hurt her if Elizabeth was there. But she was so upset at Elizabeth’s condescending tone when she found her drawing in her…
“My sketchbook!” Amy looked around frantically, and dived for her backpack. It was torn open and the contents had been stacked next to it on the floor. But the sketchbook wasn’t there. “Did… did anyone see my sketchbook?”
“No, again, no one has seen your sketchbook, you keep asking the same question.”
“I do?”
“Yes, you do,” Amy’s mother said flatly, “now lie down and go to sleep.”
Amy stole one last glance around the room. Where had it gone? Had Jamie stolen it?! She followed her mother’s orders, pulling the covers over herself slowly. It hurt to move.
Her mother left the room without saying another word, turning the light off as she left.
Amy hugged the covers, but the question kept running through her mind. Where had her sketchbook gone? If only she could focus, but her brain was stuck in Jello.
Eventually the quiet of the room and warmth of the bed lulled her back to an uneasy sleep.

When she awoke again, sunlight was streaming in between the blind slats, illuminating the dust in the air. Her phone showed that she was half an hour late getting up, and that there were six missed calls from Elizabeth. Amy deleted them without listening to any of the voicemails, and proceeded to delete the text messages too. Elizabeth was the last person she wanted to talk to.
Amy pushed through the pain to dress herself, picking the only clean loose fitting top she had, a tattered white long sleeve shirt which she had cut to expose the midriff, and a whtie flowing summer skirt. She removed the bulk of the bandages wrapped around her head before walking to the kitchen for breakfast.
Her parents sat at the dining table, nearly done with their food.
“Oh you’re up!” Her father said, “good, good.”
“I didn’t make you anything,” her mother said. “You should still be in bed.” Amy noticed her mother’s disapproving glance at her choice of attire. She had been forbidden from wearing this particular top without an undershirt, because it was cut so high, but Amy couldn’t bear to wear anything tight this morning.
“But I… have to get to the bus stop,” Amy was still having a hard time keeping her eyes open.
“What *are* you talking about? You’re not going to school like that!” Amy’s mother scoffed. “Just imagine what they’d say about me if I let you go looking like that! Half dressed, and bruised all over!”
A day off of school was normally a relief, but Amy just wanted to forget the last 24 hours, and act like everything was normal. She shuffled over to the table and sat down.
“I’ll get you some breakfast honey,” her father said. He stood and went to the kitchen.
Her mother looked at her watch, “Well, I don’t have time, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you this evening.” She stood and threw her purse over her shoulder, then knelt down and presented her cheek to Amy. “Give mommy a goodbye kiss.”
Amy obliged, and her mother stood just as her father was coming back with a glass of orange juice.
“Here,” her mother said, pulling a bottle of pills out of her purse and dropping four into Amy’s palm. “Take these before I go. They’ll help you feel better.”
Amy took the pills with a sip of orange juice, and looked up at her mother after she’d swallowed them.
“That’s a good girl. Mommy loves yoooooouuu!” She said as she turned and left.

Amy’s father brought out some toaster waffles once they were heated and sat with her while she ate slowly.
Amy’s phone chimed. It was Elizabeth again, but Amy had no interest in talking to her after what had happened, and deleted the text, again without reading it.
“So, do you remember anything more about yesterday?” her father asked, nonchalantly.
Amy’s hands went clammy as she realized she couldn’t remember what she’d told them about the previous day. She looked to her father for any clue as to what she might have already said. “Um, no,” she shook her head, “just, you know, what I said before.”
“Not even what kind of car it was, or even what color?”
“Oh!” That jarred a vague memory of telling her parents that she had been hit by a car, which then drove away. “Um, no... sorry,” she tried not to sound too nervous, adding, “it all happened so fast!” Just like every crime victim on TV says when asked to remember details they can’t recall.
Her father nodded and took a sip of coffee. “Funny kind of car though, right?”
Amy avoided her father’s eyes and gave a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah I guess.” Her phone chimed again, and once more Amy deleted the text immediately. Couldn’t Elizabeth take a hint?
“Not many cars that leave size 7 girl’s shoe prints when they hit someone.”
Amy gulped and her eyes snapped up away from her phone.
“or manage to cleanly cut through a shirt like that, huh?” Her father continued. “I figure it might be one of those new Kelley models?” He said, watching her reaction. “Or maybe it was a Lisa, or a... Jamie…” His eyebrows raised.
Amy sat frozen for a beat. “I, uh… I don’t know what…” Amy looked down at her food.
“Yeah… that’s what I figured.”
“I, uh… I just don’t know,” Amy pushed another syrup covered bite of waffle into her mouth to avoid talking. If she tattled on Jamie, she might as well just kill herself. It would be quicker and easier; and if Jamie had her sketchbook, there would be no hope of getting it back if she ratted her out.
“Well, I’ve got to go soon too, I hate to leave you alone; you sure you'll be alright?”
Amy looked into her father's eyes and didn’t know what to make of his expression. He was an imposing figure and had never been overly affectionate, but compared to her mother, he was a teddy bear. Still, there was something in his eyes. She nodded, just wanting the conversation to be over.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Amy finished her food, and sat in the stillness of the unoccupied house. Her bandages itched and the silence felt like a void sucking the heat out of her body. She went to the living room and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the couch as she normally did. The morning TV shows were boring and all the same; weather reports, chintzy decorating tips, and lame interviews with minor celebrities.
Her attention drifted until she started feeling the other kind of itch that began to grow between her legs, as it always did whenever she was alone, or bored, or for any other reason. She was terribly sore, but Amy spread her knees a little and pulled her skirt up to gently rub her pleasure center. Maybe she could satisfy herself with a quickie? She pushed a little more firmly and a hint of endorphins began to flow. She felt slightly better, rubbed a little more quickly, and the pain could be ignored by a fraction. Yelling erupted from the TV and she opened her eyes. The ugly man ginning into the camera holding up a bottle of carpet stain cleaner soured the mood.

An easy quick release was not going to happen. Amy stood and wobbled on her feet, just barely catching her balance on the couch. She stumbled her way to her father’s study and paused, leaning on the door frame to catch herself and rub her eyes. The drugs were working and the pain was dulled somewhat, but the sexual itch, as usual, would not dissipate. She pulled the office chair over to the shelf with the special box at the top, like she had done a hundred times before. She would need the extra stimulation to soothe her agitation today.
The room swayed when she put a foot on the chair and it took three attempts to successfully stand on it without falling. The box slid off the shelf as though it lept of its own free will and then tumbled to the ground as if it went right through her hands. Amy looked down puzzled. The box was laying on its side and dusty DVD cases were scattered all across the floor.
Amy stepped down and the floor lurched, the chair tossed her to the ground before flying off in the opposite direction and she landed on the box. The old worn cardboard collapsed and tore apart as her body came crashing down, crushing several of the discs. The carpet rose to meet her face and the breath was knocked out of her.
Stubbornly lifting herself up to all fours, she sifted through the discs on the floor until she found her favorite DVD, and then staggered off to the living room. She’d fix everything once the drugs wore off, she thought to herself. She had all day.

Fumbling with the TV and the player was awkward, everything felt farther away than it looked, but she finally got the disc loaded and flopped herself down to enjoy. As the video played, her fingers knew what to do, sliding down her skirt, and up into her cutoff top. She eased herself up slowly, controlling her own arousal so as not to rise too quickly. The whimpers of the victim and the eager grunts of the rapists on screen were like a well known favorite song. After the first man was done, and the others began to take their turns, Amy closed her eyes and finger banged herself in unison with the action she knew was unfolding on screen. She imagined herself as the victim and drove her fingers into her own cunt and asshole as the perpetrators violated their fuck toy. The sexual high, and the sting of stretching her own holes helped diminish the pain from her injuries, but satisfaction would take time to come this morning.
Sweating with the extended effort, Amy began to whine and whimper to herself, singing along with the lyrics “you’re hurting me! No NO PLEASE!”
More sweat poured down her face as the minutes passed. Amy pushed her skirt all the way off and removed her top, then resumed abusing herself happily as the men abused the girl. As the scene grew more intense, Amy’s masturbation ramped up as well; she even shoved her own fingers down her throat when they began to face fuck the victim, savoring the flavor of her own sweat and natural lubrication, salavating all over her hand and fingers.
Her small muscles burned with the exertion, and exhaustion came so suddenly once she started to cum. She quickly felt incredibly fatigued; what were those pills her mother had given her? She drew out the waves of her climax as much as she could, peaking over and over, until the orgasms were the only thing keeping her awake. When she could not bring herself to another peak, she halfway opened her heavy eyelids and sleepily watched the men on screen, still shoving cock after cock down their victim’s throat. Amy’s fingers lazily fell from her mouth and slobber dribbled down her chest. Lying on the floor, slumped against the couch, her legs wide, Amy gently massaged her g-spot with a middle finger. The afterglow of her orgasm warmed her body and she could feel the dopamine hit. There was no more pain. The room suddenly felt very cool on her tiny, glistening, bruised form.
Her phone chimed the unique alert indicating a text from Elizabeth. Amy’s head wobbled to look towards the source of the sound lying on the floor next to her. She ignored it and squeezed in a second finger to her mastabatory efforts, breathing deeply and sighing in relief before her head slumped forward.
The phone chimed again.
Amy’s lips parted, her mouth fell open, and her eyelids closed. Soon, drool was oozing down her chin, running down her small freckled tits, and dripping from her nipples while she slept.
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline EnabranTain

  • Junior
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  • Posts: 232
  • Merits 44
Re: Little A
« Reply #7 on: June 27, 2021, 06:30:12 PM »
Content summary: More one on one intense action (finally). We learn what Elizabeth has been up to while Amy was being attacked and sent to the hospital.

Chapter 6
Meanwhile

Elizabeth left the classroom running. She was wearing an eggshell peasant blouse that flowed over her body like white sand, a tight pair of dark blue jeans, and classic doc Martens.
She shifted her backpack off her shoulders and opened it as she ran, holding Amy’s sketchbook at the same time. Glancing back and forth for any sign of which way Amy had gone, she rounded a corner and ran headlong into the art teacher Mr. Welker.
In a flurry of paper and supplies, the entire contents of Elizabeth’s backpack, along with all the notebooks and pencil cases Mr. Welker was carrying, went flying.
“Oh God! I’m so sorry!” Elizabeth put a hand to her forehead, looking dazed for a moment. Standing directly in front of Mr. Welker made her feel very short, a feeling to which she was not accustomed. She took a half step back and looked up at the man.
He was tall with dark brown hair that was perfectly ruffled, wearing a loose red sleeveless shirt that showed off his upper body strength and eastern dragon motif tattoos from his time spent abroad. His clothes were dirty from a day of sculpting classes, and he smelled of clay. At 46 he was no longer youthful, but hadn’t let himself go. His overall lean physique told of regular exercise and it was known amongst the students he was fond of tai chi. Being the art teacher, he was generally regarded as one of the cool teachers, if there can be such a thing, but the countenance looking down on Elizabeth at that moment was deeply annoyed.
“You need to watch where you’re going young lady!” He quipped.
“Oh, oh God,” Elizabeth shrunk from his stare and bent down to gather up her books. “I’m so sorry, I was trying to… have you seen Amy? Did she come by here?”
Mr. Welker eyed her suspiciously. “No, I haven’t.” He watched for a second, as she scrambled to pick up her belongings, then looked up and down the hallway to see if there were any other teachers within earshot. “Why don’t you guys just leave her alone? She doesn’t need any more harassment from you.”
He looked Elizabeth over, noting her perfect ass and effortless style. He knew the signs, there was always a clique of the “popular” kids that made life rough for the misfits. She was only sixteen but looked mature and, frankly, quite arousing. He was certain she’d never been bullied a day in her life.
Amy, on the other hand, had come to his class shy and downtrodden, and he’d been delighted to see her open up and gain confidence with her artistic skill for a time. Then disheartened to see that early blossoming get stomped on time and again by the clique, of which Elizabeth was a chief member.
“What?” Elizabeth protested, “No, I’m not one of the ones who does that. I’m actually her best…”
“Best friend,” he cut her off. “Not from what I’ve seen.”
Elizabeth looked up, jaw dropped; she’d never been spoken to by a teacher that way.
Mr. Welker started to speak again, then shook his head and started picking up his notebooks and supplies. But a second later he couldn’t contain himself. “Look, I’ve seen this before, each class has one, and I usually don’t say anything because, hey, you're just kids right? But let me tell you something, little miss perfect, you aren’t as great as you think you are, and this little ‘savior’ act you’re doing with Amy is really hurting her.” He looked her up and down again. In his eyes, she was an embodiment of everything wrong with society: a young girl from a wealthy family who is so gorgeous and acts so innocent, that everyone bends over backward to please her, and assumes she can do no wrong.
“If it were up to me, I’d see you and all your little friends expelled.” He cast one more disapproving glare at her, and walked off with his arms full of pencil cases and sketchbooks.

Elizabeth couldn’t believe what she just heard. How was she hurting Amy?! How dare he think he knows what’s going on? She was protecting Amy! Wasn’t she? But his words had disturbed her. Why was Amy drawing those things? What was she so afraid of earlier? Why wouldn’t she talk to me? Her mind went round and round in circles while she swiftly stuffed everything into her backpack.
Exiting the school, Elizabeth scanned the edges of the parking lot, but saw no one. She sighed to herself and pulled out her phone and typed…
Hey little A, I’m sorry about earlier. Can we talk?
No response.
She tried calling.
No answer.
Look, I’ve got to get home, but call me later, k?

Elizabeth walked into a house filled with smoke, her youngest sister had apparently been trying to cook and their mother was lecturing her on the importance of not getting distracted when something was on the stove, while opening all the windows.
“Liz honey!” she called out, “can you hush the alarm in the hall?”
How she could tell who it was that had just entered the house was baffling, but Elizabeth didn’t stop to think about it. Her mind was still consumed with worry.
Elizabeth ran to her room and dumped the contents of her backpack onto the bed to reorganize it and find a suitable hiding place for Amy’s naughty sketchbook.
She had half of it organized when she realized Amy’s sketches were missing. Her face blanched. Elizabeth scrambled to sift through all the remaining material from her backpack.
“Lizy!!!” Her mom yelled. “The smoke alarm please!!!”
Elizabeth double checked inside her backpack. Nothing. She looked under her desk. Nothing. She got down and peered under her bed. Nothing.
Her bedroom door burst open and Elizabeth screeched in shock.
“Lizy!” Her mother’s stern look told her she was in trouble.
“What?!” Elizabeth jumped up. “I wasn’t doing anything!”
“The alarm for Pete’s sake!”
Elizabeth’s brain was pulled back to the moment, and she noticed the irritatingly loud beeping for the first time. “Oh, right!” She ran to the hallway and pushed the button to hush the device, which was just beyond her mother’s reach. “Sorry…”
“What’s going on with you?” Her mother asked.
Elizabeth’s mind was putting two and two together. “Uh nothing, I just remembered, I need to um, I mean I forgot something at school. I’ll be right back!” and she bolted for the door.

Sprinting back to the school, Elizabeth called Amy’s phone. Voice mail. “DAMN IT!” Then calmly, “Amy, listen I know you’re mad at me, and...  uh, I don’t know maybe I deserve it, but I uh...”
What was she going to say? That she’d lost the sketchbook, and it got into a teacher’s hands?
End call.
Call again.
“Sorry, um, phone cut out. Just, I need you to call me. K. Please.”
End call.
“FUCK!”

Elizabeth lived less than a half mile from the school, but she was panting and sweating by the time she got back. Face flush from the sprint, and chafing in her tight jeans, her shoes squeaked as she ran through the hallway towards Mr. Welker’s art room.
She  paused outside the door to compose herself. She adjusted her shirt and teased her hair. She put her hand on the doorknob. She took her hand off the door knob. She adjusted her shirt again, to show more cleavage. Took a deep breath and let it out.
Elizabeth opened the door and walked in holding her head a little higher than normal, trying to keep an air of confidence and deliberately moving slower than her racing heart was pushing her to.
“Mr. Welker?” she called out to him.

The room was larger than most other classrooms to accommodate the bench tables and counters that lined the walls, filled with student’s artwork. The earthy smell of clay and water, mixed with more pungent odors from the paints made the room feel humid. Mr. Welker’s desk was on the far side. He sat with two stacks of sketchbooks, on one each side of his desk, as he went through the student’s weekly drawing assignments. One pile “to do” the other “graded”.
He looked up after taking a moment to mark a grade, “yes…?” He saw Elizabeth and furrowed his brow in a questioning look.
“Mr. Welker, I need to get um, that is, I mean, I wanted to say I was sorry about running into you a little while ago.” Elizabeth was gesturing too much. She took a few steps into the room and stood next to one of the bench tables.
“It’s no problem,” he put a notebook away and picked up the next one. His eyes on the book, he continued, “what do you need?”
“It’s just, I think you may have picked up one of my notebooks, a sketchbook actually, when we bumped into... I mean, when I bumped into you... earlier.”
“No, I don’t think so, all the sketchbooks I have here are from my students, and you’re not in any of my classes.”
“Well, it’s not actually my sketchbook, it’s Amy’s,” DAMIT! She thought to herself. What if he didn’t know whose it was? Was her name on it? “I was going to return it to her when I bumped into you. That’s why I was asking about her before! She must have dropped it and I was just trying to find her... to return it!”
“Oh yes, I have it here,” he said shifting though his “to do” pile.
“Oh! Um, actually she told me she wasn’t done with it yet and she wanted to get it back to finish before turning it in!”
“I thought you said she must have dropped it?”
“She did! And um, we were both looking for it before and when I found it, well,” she gave an overly boisterous chuckle, “then I couldn’t find HER!”
“Well you can just leave it with me now. Even if she’s not finished, the next drawing was due today, and I don’t accept late work.”
“No please!” Elizabeth took two quick steps towards the desk. “I, uh, I mean I promised her I’d get it back for her.”
Mr. Welker looked up at her, clearly not believing a word she said.
“I just, really need to get that sketchbook.” She smiled at him, giving the slightest squeeze to her boobs with the sides of her arms, fingers laced in front of her. “Please?”
“Look, I can’t just give you another student’s assignment and then let you walk away with it. What kind of game are you playing here?”
He looked at her more closely now. She clearly looked nervous, sweating, gesturing and posturing in the way people do when they’re making an effort to not look like they’re making an effort. She stood grinning at him like a fool. Her jeans were too tight, and the wide neckline of her shirt was nearly falling off of her shoulders. Even her tits somehow seemed a little bigger than he’d noticed just half an hour earlier.
“No games, please, Mr. Welker.” There was nothing left but to beg now. She had no more excuses, and anything would be better than letting him discover Amy’s obscene sketchbook. “I just NEED to get her sketchbook. I’m begging you. I can’t tell you why, but please trust me, it's important!”
Mr. Welker’s loins stirred despite himself. He’d never been in a position to really take advantage of a student before; no one was ever desperate for a better grade in art class. But the thought flashed through his mind of Elizabeth naked, on her knees, begging him, with those perfect perky tits.
As if noticing his shift in attention Elizabeth blushed, turning a bit deeper red than she already was from the sprint.
“Alright then,” he leaned back and put his hands behind his head, “prove it.”
“What, what do you mean?” she nearly whispered.
“Prove you’re really her friend. Stand on that table. Take your shirt off.”
Elizabeth looked at the table, but did not move.
“That’s what I thought,” Mr. Welker said, leaning back over his desk and opening the next sketchbook. “best friend, yep, beeeeeest friend.” He shook his head and marked another grade, ignoring her presence, while he opened another student’s book.
“Mr. Welker?” Elizabeth called for his attention a second time.

He looked up to see Elizabeth standing on the table, her shirt and bra on the floor next to it. She held her plump tits in her hands, covering her nipples.
“Well, what do you know?” Mr. Welker smiled. “I’m sure this will make your tale all the more entertaining when you tell your friends what ‘scandalous’ thing you did to pull off your next prank.”
“It’s not like that!” Elizabeth shouted, sounding like an impetuous child.
“Well then do what I asked, what you know I was asking you to do. Let’s see ‘em.”
Elizabeth instinctively glanced around the room first, but the window blinds were drawn. No more excuses left. She lowered her hands and looked away from the leering teacher.
“Now that’s what I call a work of art.” He moved to a closer chair and picked up a large piece of drawing paper and a charcoal pencil. “Hold your arms up, over your head.”
Elizabeth complied.
“Turn around, let me see you from all angles.”
Elizabeth slowly spun around, turning bright red in embarrassment.
Mr. Welker happily sketched away with big strokes. “Oh don’t be so modest darlin’, I’m an artist. Not like I’ve never done a nude study before. Hold that chest out now.”
A few minutes passed in silence and Elizabeth was beginning to think her ordeal was over when he spoke again.
“Alright let’s lose the bottoms,” he said as if it was just routine.
Cringing, she knew there was no other option but to follow his directions; and there was no modest way to unbutton her jeans and push them down. Mr. Welker smiled as she performed what was basically an unintended strip tease. Then he continued drawing with an intensity of focus she’d only seen from Amy before.
“Lie down,” came the next instruction, “on your side, hand on the back of your head, one leg bent.”
Mr. Welker stood up and walked around his subject, ogling every curve. Elizabeth’s face and ears burned as he knelt down and peered between her legs like some kind of inspector, grinning from ear to ear as he drew her mound of trimmed blond hair and perfectly symmetrical, slightly parted labia.
“On your back now.”
Elizabeth moved without hesitation, just wanting it to be over as quickly as possible.
“Spread your legs. Push your hips up off the table.”
She couldn’t see him standing on the other side of the bench, between her thighs, but she could only imagine the gleeful expression he must have, getting such an eyeful.
“Slide back.”
She moved back.
“A little more.”
She felt the edge of the table on the back of her head.
“Keep going, head off the table. Lean back.”
She scooted back until her head was hanging off the edge. Blood rushed to her skull as she tried to hold the posture with her hips thrust upward and all her weight on the back of her shoulder blades.
“That’s perfect,” Mr. Welker said, suddenly standing directly in front of her face.

For a second her vision was blurred from the head rush and her brain trying to understand the room upside down. She realized too late, the fleshy object coming towards her was Mr. Welker’s circumcised penis.
“Wha - NO!” she yelled, but his member was already pressed against her lips and his hands gripped the sides of her head, his thumbs pressing at the base of her jawbone. Her body fell back down on the table, but she could not get  up nor turn over. He pushed his cock into her warm mouth.
“Now this will make a very entertaining story for your friends, huh?” he jeered.
Elizabeth coughed and gasped for breath as the fleshy rod hit the back of her throat. Her eyes immediately began to water and though blinded, she struck out, hitting her attacker on the sides of his arms with as much strength as she could muster.
But it was nowhere near enough. Her strikes hit well toned muscles that may as well have been sculpted from the clay they regularly shaped.
“God, I’ve always wished I could teach one of you some humility,” Mr. Welker said, his words dripping with satisfaction. He shoved forward. There was no way for Elizabeth to resist. His cock rammed down her throat until his balls mashed against her nose. The sweaty scent of his crotch filling what little air she could get.
Her whole body went into spasms as she flailed to escape. Welker leaned forward and took hold of her soft tits, rocking his hips back and forth, slowly fucking her face without pausing between strokes. Elizabeth sucked air in the split seconds he was pulled out enough to clear her airway. Spittle ran freely out of her mouth, making a messy squishing sound as her violation went on.
Welker looked down and watched her throat bulge and shrink as his cock went in and out.
“Fuck yes!” he cried in excitement. He squeezed her tits firmly in his strong hands, around the nipples making them poke up and start to swell. He leaned down and licked each one with long flat strokes of his tongue.
When her fists tried to punch at his face, he held his cock deep in her throat until her arms weakened, pulling back again only once he felt her muscles relax. He allowed her to suck a long slobbery breath through her nose before resuming his pumping motion.
He squeezed her tits once more, this time pushing them together and nibbling her nipples with his teeth and flicking them with the tip of his tongue.
“Has anyone ever told you just how fuckable you always look?” he asked. “Do you even realize that’s why everyone is so nice to you?” He grabbed one of her ass cheeks to help him thrust faster. “Have you ever been teased, miss perfect? Have the other kids ever been so cruel to you that you ran home crying, and never wanted to step foot in the school again?” He sighed in delight watching her body twitch and twist. “Well soon, you’ll know just how that feels!”
He reached down between her fighting legs and forced her labia apart, finding the little fleshy dot, then pinched her clit firmly. Elizabeth kicked and flailed, but he held her clitoris tight. “All those boys wishing so badly to fuck you. Do you think they’ll still respect you after they know how wet you got from being throat fucked?”
He pushed his middle and ring fingers into her pussy, knuckle by knuckle until he got them all the way in, then curled the fingers, rubbing her insides until her juices were flowing.
A muffled scream of rage vibrated his cock and made him moan in ecstacy.
“That’s it little miss perfect!” he cried, “just like that!” then rammed three fingers into her cunt.
“YES!” he growled as he felt an even more intense shriek emanate from Elizabeth.
With one hand pumping three fingers in and out of her pussy, and the other pinching a nipple, Welker picked up the pace, humping his cock down her throat like a bottle brush cleaning out a jar at one of his washstations.
He kept it up until he started to feel the moment arrive, and let out a guttural moan of triumph.
“Uhhhnnnngggghhh!!!” he leaned back and put both hands around her throat, fucking it like it was a fleshlight until he came. Pulse after pulse, squirt after squirt of cum injected directly into the privileged little brat’s stomach.

When his load was spent, he stepped back and picked up a roll of paper towels to wipe himself off. Elizabeth rolled onto her side and wheezed, coughing up cum. She began to weep loudly. Her makeup was ruined and her hair was full of the drippings of mucous and cum.
Mr. Welker sat back down and watched her. When she began to sit up, he issued another command.
“No, stay there, little miss perfect. We’re not done yet.”
Elizabeth had no fight left to defy him.
“Hold still now, this won’t take long.” Mr. Welker set up a canvas and brought out his acrylic paints. “Such a beautiful subject.” he mused, as he began to mix colors.
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki

Offline EnabranTain

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Re: Little A
« Reply #8 on: July 25, 2021, 05:08:19 PM »
Chapter 7
Consequences

A sunbeam crept its way up Amy’s face. After cresting her nose and landing over her eyelids, she stirred. Her mouth felt like cotton balls and she pulled her slender fingers out of her cum encrusted crotch to rub her crusted over eyes.
She winced as the smell of the fingers which had been in her ass passed across her face.
“Fuck!” She jolted awake. Her head pounded and she blinked at the sun in her eyes.
“Fuuuuck,” she said again, but this time out of concern for her situation. She looked at the clock.
4:32pm
For half a second she was relieved. There would be barely enough time to clean up her mess before her parents got home. Then she groaned. Everything still hurt and the pain medication seemed to have worn off. But things had to get done, and quickly. In twenty minutes she accomplished the Herculean task of getting herself a shower, cleaning up the puddle of body fluids on the carpet, and picking up all the broken DVDs in her fathers office.
Yet she wasn’t in the clear. The box that held the discs was too badly damaged to simply be put back, and if her father went to investigate, he’d discover that nearly half the DVDs were missing. Thinking was hard with her persisting headache. She had the torn remnants of the box and the surviving discs stacked on her father’s desk when she heard his car pull into the driveway.

---
24 hours earlier…

Elizabeth scraped the goop off of her face and out of her hair at the small wash sink in Mr. Welker’s classroom that was normally used to clean paint brushes. As she pulled paper towels out of the dispenser to soak up the mess between her legs, she could see the painting that Mr. Welker created while she “posed.” It was clearly an image of her laying helpless and ruined, or at least that would be clear to her and Mr. Welker. To anyone else, it was an abstract of pale curves and colorful shapes.
Mr. Welker sat at his desk and resumed grading notebooks.
Elizabeth dressed herself and limped to the door before standing up straight and turning around. She walked as steadily as she could back towards the art teacher who did not even look up until she slammed her hand down on his desk.
Mr. Welker acknowledged her with an angry expression. “Was I somehow not clear, or have you not had enough?”
Elizabeth held out her hand and although it trembled, she managed to speak. “Amy’s notebook, hand it over!” Her voice was hoarse and quieter than she’d meant it, but she exuded a level of determination that took Mr. Welker by surprise.
“Miss Perfect, are you really asking for another lesson so soon?”
“You can give me all the ‘lessons’ you want, but I’m not leaving here without that sketchbook.”
Welker’s dominating look faltered for a moment. He looked up at the clock. “Fine,” he smiled, “you’ve already earned Amy a permanent A+ from me anyway. I don’t even need it.” He nodded to the stack of ungraded notebooks. Elizabeth found the one with Amy’s name and limped out of the classroom.

She held it together until she was out of the school building, then burst forth into tears. She was overwhelmed with emotions. The guilt she felt for not standing up to her posh friends strongly enough on Amy’s behalf was at odds with the trial of fire she’d just gone through to save Amy from her own carelessness. Amy, who wouldn’t even respond to a simple text, and who acted like a childish brat, would be once again saved from herself by Elizabeth’s self-sacrifice. She felt demeaned, but also triumphant; guilty, yet vindicated. She was relieved that she’d been able to protect her friend and lover, but also furious for having had to do so. And Mr. Welker was another matter. Shame was giving way to a burning hatred.

She wiped her tears and looked at the sketchbook in her hands. To think that a simple collection of paper and pencil lead had the potential to bring such disaster. Elizabeth opened the book as she limped her way home and flipped through the pages unconsciously grinning. Maybe this book should find its way into the wrong hands after all? She thinks I’m stabbing her in the back! What a spoiled little brat. Elizabeth could imagine the look on Amy’s face if her sketchbook got into the hands of the other girls at school.
Elizabeth turned page after page, wondering what her other friends would say about the... flowers, hillsides, streams, buildings… normal drawings all. Nothing but boring scenes labeled with assignment dates. Nothing even close to a lewd depiction of anything was to be found.
A fresh wave of tears burst forth from Elizabethers eyes; this time, tears of rage.

---

Amy scooped up the DVDs and ran them to her room, dumping them in the closet before racing back down to the office. She crumpled up the cardboard box and stuffed it into the waste paper basket on top of all the broken discs just as her father entered the room.
“Sweetie, what are you doing up?” He looked at her sternly.
She hadn’t had time to get dressed and was wearing only one of her oversized t-shirts, the shoulders wet from hair still damp after showering. “I… couldn’t sleep anymore, headache,” at least that was partly true.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I was just… taking out the trash!” Amy scooped up the waste bin and walked swiftly towards the door.
“Oh no you don’t young lady!”
Amy cringed and turned to face her father. She knew that tone of voice and it was never good.
Her father looked at her with a puzzled expression, worry creased his brow. Amy didn’t have the wits about her to come up with any more excuses.
“You couldn’t sleep so you’re doing chores?” he said after a moment of silence.
“Yes?” she shrugged.
“Go lie down,” he took the waste paper bin from her, “you need to rest.”
The slightest yelp of distress got out before Amy quelled her vocal reaction. Her father held the door open for her and took another glance around the room as she sheepishly walked under his arm. He closed the door behind them and shooed her away.

Amy sat down on her bed and listened to the sounds of her father leaving the house, emptying the waste basket, and returning to his office. She was certain he was going to come knocking on her door any second now, demanding answers to difficult questions. But after several minutes of conspicuous non-door knocking, she began to relax. He must not have noticed anything amiss. She inhaled deep and felt her pulse rate drop. She picked up her phone and laid back, allowing herself to relax. After the work of getting the house and herself presentable, and fighting through the pain, her bed and the soft pillows felt like heaven.
There were several text messages from Elizabeth, which she knew to expect because she’d heard several of them come in. Now that she was in a better mood she skimmed through them. It was time she responded and apologized. Plus, it would be comforting to hear her best friend’s voice.

10:02 AM We REALLY need to talk.
10:17 AM I’m not kidding, this is important.
10:53 AM I’m sorry about earlier, but please CALL ME!
11:05 AM Amy stop being a brat and fucking call me!!!
11:32 AM If we’re not friends anymore fine, but there’s something you need to know.
11:38 AM you fucking cunt. Do you know what I’ve just been through for you?
11:39 AM I’m done sticking my neck out for you! Ungrateful bitch!
11:42 AM Too bad you lost your sketchbook. That could really be bad if someone found it.
12:01 PM I guess you don’t care.

Amy’s skin crawled reading the messages. She had been so irritated with Elizabeth that she didn’t want to read them earlier, but she couldn’t imagine how things could possibly have deteriorated so quickly. Guilt flooded her chest. And she’d been so preoccupied with the pain and the drugs her mother gave her, that she had completely forgotten about her sketchbook! Panic swirled in her belly. The relief of a moment earlier had evaporated. She sat up and tried typing a response, far safer than calling, but her fingers shook so badly, all she could type was word salad.
Finally, she gulped back a dry throat, brought up Elizabeth’s contact entry, and hit the call button.
Just then, footsteps came down the hall, her father’s fist pounded on her bedroom door. “Amy!”
The phone rang in her ear.
“Just… just a minute, dad!”
“I don’t think this can wait.” Her father’s voice was elevated and gruff. He opened the door.
Elizabeth answered the phone, “Well, guess who decided to finally call?”
Amy’s father held up the rape DVD in his hand, “any idea how this ended up in the player?”
“... So what? Nothing to say?” Elizabeth’s lo-fi voice came through the speaker.
Amy’s stomach churned, “I … uh…” she squeaked, not even sure who she was addressing.
“Come with me,” / “Is this some kind of apology?”
“Right now, young lady!” / “Because it’s too late for that, but...”
“We need to talk!” / “We need to talk!”
No one bad is ever truly bad, and no one good is ever truly good.
-Loki