Rape stories

I saw a thermometer too, and my naked bottom tensed as I realized, by its red tip, that it was a rectal thermometer. Master sensed my ass cheeks tightening round his head and took my instinctive response to be one of planned invitation. Let me get your boobs free first, he murmured. My elaborate bra still contained them, though my pussy had spent the entire night bare. I did not mean -- I began. He had pushed me forward in response, as if to bend my head down to my knees. He let me up, but did not stop undoing my bra. I was, apparently, going to lose that no matter what. It was my Master's will. Why does she fight so? I asked. I watched as Sandra threshed in the bed, twisting and turning as the men ruthlessly bound her wrists cross-wise over her head, tying them in felt-lined leather restraints to a bar that hung at a fixed height from the ceiling. This too was new. Sandra flinched when, looking up at her newly bound wrists, she saw that they were utterly immobile. Yet I wondered at her, despite my own incredible nervousness.

Had she not played my Mistress? Didn't she boast of past parties with us? Surely the restraints could not actually be hurting her, though they did hold her arms very securely. rape stories She fights because she is going to have an abortion, Master whispered to me. But she is not pregnant! I chirped, loud enough for Sandra to hear me. She looked at me with pleading eyes, yet said nothing, though she wore no gag. Master laughed. His engorged cock shafted up my tender heinie with relish, bumping me nearly off my feet. He caught me, hit me again deep in my crack. rape stories Oh, my poor virgin anus! He was hitting so close to my tightly-closed hole, whacking me in my furrow just a centimeter above it. His cock juices, pre-cum, dribbled down my furrow and collected in my indipping hole. Why do you think we've been wearing these rings? rape stories Master asked me. His voice was amused, with a tinge of annoyance. As if Einstein was being forced to explain elementary physics.

Before I could answer master continued, It is so we can retain our seed until it is time to pump it into your Mistress. To make her pregnant? I asked. What is an atom? rape stories To make her pregnant, he replied, and freed my breasts. They bounced into his hands and at once he squeezed and cupped them, as if his own palms had become my new bra. But she can -- I began. She has been denied birth control by her husband, Master replied. For tonight. Specially for tonight. And IUD's, and all other forms. And RU- is still illegal here. So with five -- I actually counted the penises arrayed around me, then added the one jammed in my butt. rape stories With five cocks she is sure to get laid, I concluded. My high school viewpoint was showing. Master laid. rape stories She will certainly get laid, my sweet child, but she will get quite pregnant too.

Since we won't know know who fathered the child, though, her husband insists that she must have an abortion performed. When? I shivered. Ahh, that is the question, isn't it? He swears he'll let her swell up to the size of a giant watermelon, wrecking her figure. She wants it done as quickly as possible. We watched as Sandra's figure was upended. Grasping her ankles, a man and her husband unceremoniously yanked up her ass until it was above her head. Three plump pillow were put under her hips, to elevate them. rape stories Then her feet were let down, spread wide on the bed, and finally bent at the knees to give her a classic birthing look, as if she were in a hospital delivery room. Will she deliver? I asked. No way, her husband wouldn't know who's child he was saddled with. We were repeating ourselves, but we seemed to enjoy it. Master began undoing the buckle of my leg-sheathing chaps. He palmed my tummy, checking perhaps if any baby were growing inside me. He pressed deeply, found nothing. rape stories I could wear corsets. There would be no damage. She could always slip away and get one, I said. She will be a complete slave of her husband until the day he takes her to the abortionist, Master replied. Or perhaps the doctor will be brought here. rape stories It would be so tragic to kill the baby, I said, feeling my master peel my freshly unbuckled chaps down my thighs. I parted them a bit wider, helping him get me out of my clothes. I wished he'd place his hand between them. It will be a pleasure baby only, Master replied. rape stories Sandra's legs were completely bound now at the ankles, with felt-lined cuffs. The men looped restraints round her knees and pried them wide. When they'd tied her off she was unable to close her legs at all, though she could with a little effort spread them yet wider apart. My eyes flitted to the men's cocks, the dildoes arrayed on the table. This was not a place for a good little schoolgirl like me to be, that was for sure. I've got to call my mom!

I blurted suddenly. Sandra's husband looked at me. He switched his eyes to my Master's. Get her completely out of her things, he said. I had thought to do this in total privacy, with just us men, letting Kitty entertain the girls. rape stories But since she is here, she can help. And get her own due in turn. Really, I must -- I began, but master would hear none of it. Perhaps he was the slave of Sandra's husband. As I put up a struggle of my own now, he yanked down my pants-that-were-not-pants and pulled them over my boots. A man grabbed my flailing arms, held them firmly behind me. My boobs lifted, spread. rape stories His cock shafted purposefully through the mane of my blonde hair where it tumbled down behind my head. Quite a little Indian, my newest Master remarked. Holding me, he watched my struggles as one watches a fish flopping uselessly on a dock. That's why I chose her, Master said, relieving me of my boots, then stealing my hat. I watched as Master frisbeed it over to the seat of a chair, where it landed perfectly. We may need that later, he said, stooping and bundling the rest of my things into his hands. He walked toward a chest made of cedar wood and tossed them in. He locked it. I felt myself released from behind. Seeing my hat as the only article of clothing left to me, I ran to the chair. I grabbed my hat and yanked it down onto my head. Then I dashed for the door. When Sandra's husband strode up behind me I was still at the door, futilely twisting its handle. It was, of course, locked. My heinie wriggled with my frustration. My thin legs knocked their knees. I was feeling really scared now. I was only This marital bedroom was no place for a young girl, a freshman with her breasts newly formed. rape stories God forbid that I should have to learn to give milk through them in my sophomore year! With a commanding slap Sandra's husband whacked my heinie. I leapt up, spun about, grabbed at my ass and held it with both my hands. Get your little fanny over there, Sandra's hubby snarled at me.

He pointed to the nightstand with all the intercourse equipment displayed on it. I saw he was not a man to be reasoned with. Bowing my head I scuttled quickly past him, then slowed my pace a little and walked obediently to the table, holding my poor punished ass all the way. The men laughed at me. I blushed. I was, momentarily, the absolute center of attention, despite the presence of a full-grown, well-spread woman in the room. Somewhere deep in my womb I relished this, though it had cost my bottom. Releasing my fundament I dithered a moment amongst all the scary things, not knowing what to do with them. Dildos, condoms, oils, lotions cream to ease stiff joints and heating pads to warm exposed flesh, grown chilly in the long hours of the bedroom that I imagined Sandra might spend here. Ohhh! I shouldn't know what to do with any of this! I muttered to myself, wiggling my tush a little in pent-up frustration. Sandra's husband had let me keep my hat on, at least, and instantly I was glad for it as a light was switched on from above. I looked toward the bed to see where it was directed. The cunt, of course. Sandra's. The uppermost portion of her inner thighs and her well-furred nest were now subjected to an intense, spotlighted glare. Suddenly a wave of pity washed over me. With the brim of my hat shading my brow, I stole a wettened towel and a lipstick from the table. I kneed my way onto the bed and settled beside Sandra. rape stories Softly I wiped her face, whispered consoling words to her. Carefully I applied my lipstick to her mouth. She would look her best, if I could help it, despite the lewdness of her enforced posture. Would someone give her lipstick when she lay prepared for her abortion?