This is a re-write of the first story I ever posted here, altered to have the characters be 18+ years old. This is the first two chapters of that story, revised for the Jan 2023 story contest.
WARNING!
The following story contains graphic and sexually explicit content, including depictions of rape and abuse.
Rape and assault are serious crimes and the author does not condone such actions in real life.
This is a work of fiction. No characters in it are meant to resemble any real person.
If you do not wish to read such stories, please stop now.
Chapter 1
Transit
It was a simple moment, nothing special. Amy was waiting for a bus to campus at the trasnit station along with a handfull of other college students, and wound up being the target of some light sexual harassment. While not the first time she’d suffered an unwanted touch, it yet became a pivotal moment for her all the same.
Fall had just begun, but despite the cold chill in the air, it was a bright, sunny day. Amy shivered after a slight breeze sent goosebumps up her smooth, pale legs. Other university students and people on their way to work milled about keeping respectable distances from one another as they waited, 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 peoples’ jackets. She’d forgotten 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 toward the transit center’s entrance where the city bus was just now visible turning into the facility. No one ever spoke to her at the transit station. No one really spoke to her at all, except her friend Elizabeth, who now lived on campus. The upperclassmen and even the other freshmen looked down on her, both figuratively and literally. Amy was short and less developed. At eighteen years old, her chest barely warranted a bra and she didn’t even bother wearing one most days, unlike Elizabeth who, while two years older than Amy, had been buxom and curvy through all of high school. Amy’s 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, but her sheltered childhood had left her socially awkward. In an effort to look more mature and defy her mother’s strict control of everything in her life, now that she was finally out of high school, she’d taken to wearing tighter and more revealing tops and skirts with the shortest hemlines she could get away with. Today, she was suffering for the effort.
Amy was lost in thought watching a couple of other coeds whispering to one another and didn’t notice the dude-bro in a letterman jacket approaching her from behind. He grabbed her left butt cheek, gave it a powerful squeeze, then retreated back to a couple of buddies as Amy reeled in shock. The bros chuckled to themselves, and the coeds cast angry looks at them.
“What’s wrong with you, Darren?” a senior girl sneered. The comment, however, did not signify solidarity with Amy. The girls looked her way, but despite what had just happened, it was not an invitation to join their ranks. 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.
Yet that was the moment. When Darren’s hand forcefully squeezed her ass, a zing of 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, not so different than she’d experienced before, was somehow the final straw that brought about an epiphany. She felt not simply awkward and weird, but truly at her core, abnormal.
The bus pulled up and the brakes squealed. She rubbed at her butt cheek as everyone 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 she prayed to God that no one could notice her blushing.
At lunch, Amy sat at a picnic table in a sheltered corner of the quad just outside the dining hall, staring down at her plate. She pushed her food around with a fork, but hadn’t eaten a bite. She rested an elbow on the table with her chin in the palm of her hand. Elizabeth’s tray clattered as it was set next to hers and the tall blond with perfect skin, sat down.
“Hey little A” she said. “Jesus, aren’t you cold?”
Amy shrugged, “I’m fine,” she responded unenthusiastically.
“Oh no, what happened,” Elizabeth said in a motherly tone.
Amy recounted the brief tale of the transit station groping.
“What an asshole,” Elizabeth raised her head to look at the students coming and going from the dining hall, as though she expected to see the guy nearby. “You want me to break his nose?”
“No Lizzy! It’s ... that’s not what ...” Amy sighed, “just, forget it.”
Amy and Elizabeth had grown up in the same church community and had been friends since they were very young. Amy’s family eventually moved to a more conservative church when they were in middle school, 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. In fact, she had been like an older sister, a confidant, and 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.”
***
Having grown up in such a conservative household, Amy had little experience with boys despite having all the typical feelings and attractions. Her mother never allowed her to date in the usual sense. She’d been out with Elizabeth and friends in what could be described as a double date on a few occasions, but they never called it that. The ambiguity left Amy unsure if the other boys even liked her or even realized they were on a “date.” Often it felt to her like the boys were only there to try and get into Elizabeth’s pants and Amy merely happened to be tagging along like a little sister they couldn’t ditch.
It didn’t help that Amy’s parents, especially her mother, was a hardliner against anything sexual. Amy would get grilled each time she’d been out with Elizabeth and a couple of boys as though her mother was accusing her of being a prostitute. Her mother would re-emphasise the dire consequences to her eternal soul for sinful behavior. Flirting, kissing, even innocent touching, could lead to fornication and damnation. Amy would endure the lectures, the images and ideas of doing all those forbidden things and more, burning in her mind making her feel both excited and ashamed. She’d go to bed those nights and lie awake, trembling, willing herself not to masturbate, and hoping her guilty prayers were enough to appease God.
After graduating high school, Amy followed in Elizabeth’s footsteps and applied to the local state university. Amy’s mother didn’t want her living on campus which is why she had to commute via bus, but it still gave her a degree of independence. Her first semester’s schedule had her doing long days on campus Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but only half days on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
It was an odd sensation getting home at lunchtime on those short days to an empty house. Amy’s mother had been off work while she was raising her daughter, but had gotten a job once Amy was 16 and didn’t need as much supervision. Having the house to herself was an opportunity for Amy to shop for and sneak in clothes that her mother wouldn’t approve of, and for her to watch TV shows and movies that her parents had always forbidden. The old guilt still lingered in her guts, but Amy was determined to push herself and indulge in some fledgling rebellious impulses.
Amy also took the opportunity to clear out her room and redecorate without her mother nosing into her business. She may not have had a dorm room, but that didn’t mean she was going to live like a child. All her old posters, stuffed animals, and clothing that no longer fit had to go. She filled two garbage bags with trash and another two bags with things to donate. But even after all the junk was cleared away, there were still a number of items she wanted to keep for sentimental reasons, even if she no longer wanted them in her room.
The house had a decent sized attic where they kept such things along with the Christmas decorations and seasonal clothing. Amy’s father was always the one to climb up there, but how hard could it be? Amy wanted to get it done right away, so she put on some jeans and pulled the ladder out of the garage, then set it up in the hallway under the attic’s hatch just like her dad would. Without too much difficulty, she managed to climb into the dusty gap between the roof and ceiling.
Crawling around on hands and knees, flashlight in her teeth, Amy searched for any empty boxes she could use. Plastic bins and random items were scattered about with an organizational style only her father could understand apparently. Old fishing rods rested on top of rusting paint cans filled with film negatives from back in the day before digital cameras. Amy opened a few boxes that had summer clothes and the inflatable pool toys. The Christmas decorations had their own section which was obvious next to the box for the fake tree.
Amy huffed and sat back, careful not to bump her head on the roof joists. She only needed a couple of boxes, but there didn’t seem to be any empty ones. She scanned the boxes furthest back with her flashlight. There was a stack of file boxes with lids that she didn’t recognize. Perhaps she could consolidate what was in them to free up a few?
With some effort she crawled to the stack and started opening them. The first two had old tax returns and Amy was able to empty half of one into the other. The next box held old pictures of her parents from when they were in college. She flipped through them, laughing at the clothing styles, and was able to put the rest of the tax returns into the box with them. Finally an empty box! She set it aside and opened the next one.
Instead of taxes or old pictures, however, this one was full of DVDs. But these were not the family friendly movies she remembered from her childhood.
Amy knew what porn was of course, going to a public school there was no avoiding the topic, but she’d never seen any. Her mother was quite strict about computer use at home and made every effort to hide it from her and Amy was never bold enough to seek it out herself. With bated breath, Amy flipped through the cases, wide eyed, soaking in the lewd images on their covers. Her tummy stirred with butterflies. She couldn’t believe what she was looking at. Her father must have hidden these here years ago and forgotten about them. Did her mother even know he had them?! She put the lid back on the box and pushed it aside doing her best to forget she ever saw it. Amy opened more boxes and shuffled items around, but her mind kept coming back to the box of forbidden naughtiness. It made her feel like a little girl again, being scolded by her mother, but this time her burgeoning rebellious inner voice spoke up. Why shouldn’t she look at it? She was eighteen now, right? Her mother didn’t have the right to control what she chose to watch anymore, right? She could do whatever the heck she wanted!
Her mission to get empty boxes forgotten, Amy hauled the stash of DVDs down to the living room’s big screen TV and selected one of the tamer looking titles. With trembling hands she inserted the disc into the machine, hoping it still worked. Her heart pounded in her chest for what seemed like 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 allowed herself to properly masturbate for the first time without self restraint, pinching her nipples and pressing a finger outside her panties against her clit. She squeezed her legs together until her tiny frame shook out of control, her first proper orgasm filling her body with the electric sensation she’d been denying herself her entire life.
When she caught her breath, she pulled the DVD from the player and stashed the box in her bedroom closet. She then quickly put everything back the way she’d found it in the attic and put the ladder away mere minutes before her father got home. The thrill of rebellion and the ecstasy of her sexual release had unlocked something in her being. She felt a freedom from the self-repression she’d been so well trained to inflict upon herself.
Amy did return to her normal daily behavior, but the world felt different and she counted the seconds until she’d be home alone again two days later.
For the next couple of weeks, Amy would rush home as quickly as possible on Tuesdays and Thursdays and sit right in front of the TV screen, mesmerized, for as long as she dared. It became a whole ritual. She would undress, select a new disc, sit on a towel to avoid leaving a wet spot on the carpet, and tease her tiny pink clit repeatedly for orgasm after orgasm while she watched other girls getting molested and fucked.
The rest of the weekdays were torture with no opportunities to use the old DVD player. Church on Sundays was especially bad. Her mind kept wandering during the sermons and she imagined the congregants stripping and fucking one another in some kind of spiritual orgy. She found herself getting aroused by those thoughts even while sitting next to her parents in the pews. As her mind wandered, images of sex running non-stop through her brain, her mother kept scowling at her for squirming in her seat.
Amy even found herself getting frequently turned on just walking around campus and having sexual daydreams about classmates and professors.
On a mid October Tuesday Amy rushed to get home, already getting wet on the bus ride. She didn’t even look at the cover of the next DVD before popping the disc 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 stripped, the video was already playing.
This one, however, was quite different from the others. There was no opening music, no introduction, no ads for bygone era websites. It was set in a dark living room, not unlike Amy’s own, the camera looking in from a window. 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. The shaky camera entered the house and followed as they dragged her to a bedroom while she shrieked in panic. 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 from the shock, one finger still pressed to her tiny clit. Amy stared at the black screen before her, seeing her own terrified face faintly reflected back as though she herself was trapped in that nightmare. Panting, 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. “PLEASE NO!” the girl’s voice rang in her ears.
That evening it was especially quiet at dinner. The family sat around the dining table, the sounds of chewing were all that could be heard. Amy’s mother finally broke the silence by asking how her day had been. Amy didn’t notice.
Her father nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, your mother asked you a question, sweety.”
Amy looked up at her father, looked into his kindly eyes, and had a vision of him watching that video while jerking off, beads of sweat forming on his brow while he licked his lips in delight.
“I, uh,” she looked at her mother, “it, it was fine.”
By the following Thursday, Amy couldn’t stomach the thought of watching another video. The image of that girl, bound and helpless, haunted her thoughts all week. Amy dreamed of popcorn, being in a warm cozy house, 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, yet powerfully aroused and unable to rest until she’d satisfied her body’s needs.
The following Tuesday, she tried to put it out of her mind and 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 over and over, and each time as she rubbed herself back to calm, it seemed like she was doomed to only achieve climax when dreaming about such horrible misdeeds. After hardly sleeping a wink the next Monday, Amy knew what she had to do. The following day her stomach fluttered so badly that the smell of breakfast almost made her vomit. She hardly spoke to anyone the entire day and returned 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.
It began 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 getting gang-raped 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 broken mess.
Amy’s tiny 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 series of orgasms she’d ever experienced. The mixture of guilt and extreme arousal left her more confused than ever but that night, she slept peacefully through til morning.
After that it was as if her brain had been permanently rewired. Amy began to masturbate more frequently, touching herself whenever nobody was looking and watching porn on her phone. She didn’t watch the rape video again, but fantasized about its brutality more and more, inventing new, even more depraved scenarios in her mind.
She was good at hiding her secret, but there was no keeping it from Elizabeth who knew her so well. The rapid change in Amy’s behavior was obvious to her best friend; she was more agitated, distracted, and she wasn’t spending as much time with Elizabeth while on campus. When Elizabeth confronted her about it, Amy was scared to tell her the truth, but knew she couldn’t hide it any longer and she desperately needed to tell someone. So she confided in Elizabeth the truth about finding her father’s old porn collection and admitted to masturbating compulsively. She left out the part about the rape video, but did explain that she was having extreme and shockingly violent fantasies as well.
Elizabeth had thankfully been understanding. Yet the problem seemed only to be getting 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 just to feel more deviant and vulnerable.
***
Because of all this, Amy was already well aware that she was no longer the innocent little girl she once was by the time she was standing, shivering, at the transit station that fateful morning. But the incident with Darren had been the final straw that made her realize the problem was much more serious than she’d been willing to admit, and she had no clue what to do about it. Sitting there at lunch, watching the normal students happily living out their typical college experiences, Amy felt lost.
“I’m a freak!” She finally blurted out, tears gushing in an instant.
“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 nearby. “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 looks. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the meal. Amy choked down a few bites of food. When they were finished, Amy watched Elizabeth take their trays back to the dining hall. She was so grateful to have such a good friend, but she knew Elizabeth was wrong. She was a freak.
Chapter 2
Final Girl
Life resumed its normal routine, and over the next week Amy tried to put the transit station 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. But being in the dorms wasn’t the same as spending the night at Elizabeth’s house when they were younger. Amy had 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. So 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. And Amy was always welcome at Elizabeth’s house, just another sibling thrown into the mix. She’d always eaten with them as often as she could. It was the only place she felt welcome. So the dorms just weren’t the same; the noises and smells were different, and Elizabeth’s roommate was clearly annoyed at sharing their cramped space with someone she considered little more than “Lizzy’s stray puppy.”
But Halloween was only a few days away and Elizabeth’s family was getting together for a halloween feast, Amy invited of course. 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 25 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 a house full of women, so the atmosphere was noticeably different. That evening, however, Tyler was back home visiting and it felt like old times again.
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 donned their costumes and headed out with their parents for trick-or-treating. Elizabeth’s older sister, who had always been sort of goth, dressed as Wednesday Addams and left for a frat party; while Amy and Elizabeth changed into their pajamas and joined Tyler in the living room to watch scary movies, a long running tradition for them, especially on All Hallow’s Eve.
Elizabeth, having an innate sense of style, wore a simple set of light blue pajamas with white buttons and decorative stitching. Amy, on the other hand, entered the living room barefoot, wearing 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. They turned the lights off to set the mood and Amy put her feet on Tyler’s lap while Elizabeth braided her hair as they watched the first movie. The braids were always tighter whenever Elizabeth was truly frightened by the film and this night they wound up being extra tight, even though she didn’t seem that scared. Amy didn’t mind though, 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 pigtails.
Elizabeth’s parents returned with the youngsters hauling buckets of candy just as the second movie was starting. They interrupted long enough to say goodnight and went off to bed, yelling up to the other girls not to eat all of their candy at once.
The second film was some kind of slasher flick with bad acting and even worse special effects. The temperature dropped quickly outside as it began to rain and an hour into it, they’d pulled a blanket over themselves. 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. Rain pelting the window beside her made a kind white noise while the light from the TV flickered across her face.
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 as if holding a much larger pair than she had.
“Yep!”
Amy gave him a 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 tackled 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 oversized 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 detectives examining the crime scene and dismissing the main character as she described the inhuman strength of the psycho. 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 smooth skin of her upper thighs, “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, cheeks reddening.
“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 moment she thought he was being playful, but the way he groped her flesh was too aggressive. 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 was strong enough to 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. Amy 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, the girl crashing into everything as she tried to flee the psycho.
Tyler shoved Amy forward so her chest was on the arm rest and her head hung off the end of the couch, but he stuffed a light cotton handkerchief into her mouth before she could scream. 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 shots of the girl now tied up.
“Ohhh Jesus Christ that’s tight!” Tyler sighed in a loud whisper.
Amy squirmed with all her strength and managed to get one hand free, but Tyler caught it and bent her arm back again, this time using a surprisingly powerful 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 jolt 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, the shock of being so filled with his flesh, raped, and the way her body was straining to accommodate it left her mute. What would have been the point of calling for help? Instead she bit down on the cloth to cope with the pain.
The movie continued with dramatic banter between the girl and the psychopath while he meanaced her.
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 girl and psycho erupted on screen, washing the living room in red shifting light.
“That’s it baby,” Tyler encouraged her.
Amy couldn’t deny how aroused she felt despite the pain. She arched her back and her toes curled upwards. Tyler started shoving harder in quick thrusts.
Amy whimpered in high pitched squeals through her gag. “Yahh! Ahhh! Eeee! Eeeee!!” 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 rammed himself into her as hard as he could.
“AHHH! Ouch! Ow! OOOWWWW!” Amy could no longer control herself, 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.
In the movie, the girl sobbed on her knees, covered in blood, over the body of the psycho while the camera pulled away on a crane shot before a fadeout.
The room darkened as the light from the TV dimmed and the credits rolled.
Amy shuddered, emotionally and physically overwhelmed. Once Tyler had the strength back in his arms, he held her close and leaned back, pulling her with him to sit sideways on 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.
Amy knew she should be furious with him, but all she wanted in that moment was to be held. 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 there little A,” he smiled at her, “You did great. That... was amazing. I know how incredibly hard that was 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 softly 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 drenched in cum, his lap and her crotch a soggy mess, 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 bottomless, cross legged, looking down into her phone screen where she had been taking video. When she saw Amy’s expression of utter disbelief, Elizabeth looked up, grinning from ear to ear.
“So... how was it?” She asked.
Amy opened her mouth but was at a loss for words, her mind numb.
“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!”
Exhausted laughter was all that Amy could manage while her mind reeled. Elizabeth came forward to embrace her friend and stroke her hair. Amy giggled painfully while Tyler’s big arms held them all together. Elizabeth and Tyler cuddled Amy between them as she both laughed and wept, her entire soul wracked with an emotional release even more intense than the forced orgasm she had just endured.
The last of the credits drifted upward leaving the room in complete darkness with only the sound of the rain outside, until the unmistakable sinister cackle of the supposedly dead psycho rose to mingle with Amy’s cathartic sobs.
