Chapter 3
He came up behind her out of nowhere. Without warning, Honey felt a gloved hand against her throat and a knee in the small of her back.
He wrestled Honey into a clump of bushes and forced her into a kneeling position. With one hand he drew a butcher knife from under his black leather jacket. With the other he unzipped his pants and pulled out his angry, stiff cock.
"Suck it!" he demanded, pressing his fiery cock-head against Honey's quivering lips.
She resisted, clamping her teeth closed. Honey was a strong-willed girl. No man was going to make her suck his prick if she didn't want to. Sex for her had always been a one-way street. She decided when, where and how it was going to happen.
"Bitch!" the rapist snarled, his teeth flashing in the eerie moonlight.
The tip of the knife pricked Honey's cheek. When it flicked downward, she could feel blood begin to flow.
"Now are you going to suck my cock?" the rapist sadistically asked.
Honey knew that her life was at stake, but she was still too proud to give in. No man was going to push her around. Not even a knife-wielding rapist. Her jaw remained clamped shut.
Having bloodily creased her face, the point of the knife dipped to the neck of Honey's sweater. It was sharp. Very, very sharp. With just a snap of his wrist, the rapist slashed the sweater open from the top to the bottom. All of a sudden, Honey's braless tits were bobbing in the moonlight like a pair of silvery melons.
"That's quite a set of knockers you've got there, little lady. I'll bet you're mighty proud of them," the rapist drawled. "It would be a pitiful shame if anything happened to such a fine pair of titties."
The blade of the knife flattened ai in e top of Honey's tit. Then, slowly, it rotated until the cutting edge was a hair away from slicing her spongy flesh.
"I could hack this tit off without even trying," the rapist chuckled evilly. "You'd look kind of funny with only one jug. Even worse with none."
Honey looked down at her chest. She didn't see tits. She saw scabby scars, devastating in their flatness.
The rapist had called her bluff. He had won.
"I'll suck your cock," Honey said.
The big prick was in her mouth before she finished speaking-a gnarled, curving prick that made Honey's nostrils flare with its sour taste.
"Use your tongue," the rapist told her. "Rub it over the tip of my cock."
Swishing her tongue over the head of his dick, Honey found herself slipping into the rhythm of cock-sucking. She couldn't help it. Once a stiff prick was in her mouth her female reflexes took over. The only kind of blow-job Honey knew how to give was the best.
The rapist was moaning from the delicious oral suction. Inevitably, his cock moved forward until all of it was in Honey's mouth. She could feel his wiry pubic hairs tickling inside her nose, his hot balls churning against her chin.
Once the rapist had hilted his tool, it was no longer a question of Honey merely sucking him off. He was fucking her mouth now, pumping his hard-on, using Honey's spasming throat like a cunt.
"I'm going to come pretty quick," the rapist announced. "Are you going to swallow?"
With a mouthful of cock, Honey nodded automatically. The fact of the matter was that when a man came in her mouth she was incapable of handling it any other way than by gulping down his jizz.
"Here we go," the rapist said. "My dick's going to blow in your mouth."
Lurching down Honey's throat to the root, the rapist's prick thickened and lengthened in the last instant before the moment of truth. When it erupted, the cum was as hot as liquid flame and as thick as oil.
Honey drank it all. Every drop of jizz. She sucked the rapist's cock bone-dry.
"Not bad," he chuckled when he got his prick back. "Now let's see what else you can do."
The knife was back on display. This time its tip was fiddling with the waistband of Honey's skirt.
There was a flick. A quick rip. The severed garment fell away from Honey's shapely, bare hips as she fell to the ground.
"No panties, huh?" the rapist noted with approval. "I like that."
Honey glanced down. A golden tuft of pussy hair puffed between her legs as she recalled that Art Malone had destroyed her panties when they were fucking in the back seat of his car. She had forgotten all about it.
Now she remembered Art's warning about the danger on the streets after dark for a lone female. But instead of wishing she had listened to him, Honey seethed with anger. As far as she was concerned, it was as if he had personally hired the rapist to teach her a lesson.
Well, Honey vowed, it wouldn't work. Nobody taught Honey Wilde a lesson.
She spread her legs. Brazenly. The lewd suddenness of her action caught the rapist off guard. He flinched with surprise at the sight of her abruptly wide-open crotch.
"What's the matter, stud, haven't you ever seen a spread pussy before?" Honey smirked.
"Shut your fucking mouth!" the rapist snapped defensively. "I'm in charge here and you'd better not forget it, bitch!"
"Aren't you going to fuck me?" Honey asked boldly.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. Your cock looks kind of beat."
The rapist looked down. Actually, his prick was standing out like a yardarm, but the lie gave Honey the opportunity to kick her distracted assailant right in the nuts.
He howled with pain as he doubled over and clutched his groin. The knife popped from his hand and flew several feet away. Honey ran for it. When she returned to the rapist's side, she was armed and thirsting for revenge.
He looked up in disbelief. "Wha-what are you going to do?" he stammered when he realized the blade of the knife was keeping company with his ribs.
"I ought to castrate you," Honey said. "Cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat!"
She laughed, enjoying the toughness of her words and the nervous response of her foiled assailant. She felt relaxed and loose, the way she always did when she had a difficult situation well in hand.
It was a mistake. Even Honey could fall into the trap of overconfidence.
There was a flurry of violent movement. When it was over, Honey was helplessly sprawled on the ground, naked and spread-eagled, wondering what had gone wrong. The rapist's knife was at her cunt, the cold steel of the blade flattening one of her pussy-lips.
"If you ought to cut my balls off, maybe I ought to fuck you with this knife," the rapist snarled. "The blade would fit into your blonde little twat just right. It's just about the same length as my cock. When I was through, you could have your guts for a midnight snack."
The knife shifted to the center of Honey's cunt. The chill of the metal against the meat of her pussy sent a paralyzing shudder up and down her spine that robbed her of the last of her nerve.
"Please," Honey cried, tears streaming down her ashen cheeks. "I didn't mean anything. I was just trying to protect myself. Please, don't fuck me with your knife."
"Maybe you'd like it better if I used this," the rapist grinned.
His free hand was holding his hard cock. It was only slightly less menacing than the knife.
It would have been easiest for Honey to just go ahead and say, "Fuck me," grateful that she was going to get a prick stuffed up her pussy instead of a butcher knife. But she was so stunned that she fell back on something that had always worked in the past, without stacking it up against the reality of the present.
"I'm a virgin," Honey murmured, comforted by the familiar sound of the words she had uttered so often.
"So what?" the rapist replied. He laughed uproariously. Then he fucked her.
His cock was a battering ram. Not satisfied with just her cunt, he fucked Honey in the ass as well. Punching one instant to the depths of her aching pussy, the next his huge prick was punishing her tight, dry ass-hole.
While he alternately fucked her in both holes, the rapist slobbered all over Honey's tits. He was a chewer, taking the nipples between his teeth and grinding them raw.
Then there were his hands. Once he had his cock inside of Honey, he had tossed the knife aside. His fingers roamed all over her naked body, pinching, poking, probing, and finally, bruising.
Honey had never felt so degraded. So abused. For the first time in her life she hated her body. Hated the fact that she had been born female-with holes between her legs for a man's dick to fuck, and tits to be crushed.
Her attacker sensed all of this. An understanding of the female mind under brutal sexual stress was as much a rapist's stock in trade as his stiff prick. He owned his victims-mind, body and soul-that was what made rape so enjoyable.
But if Honey felt she was scraping bottom, she still had farther to fall. Her attacker wanted it all. Her total shame.
"You're going to come," he said matter-of-factly, after shifting his cock from Honey's ass to her cunt for the dozenth time.
"I can't ... I can't," she whimpered in agony.
"You have to!" the rapist yelled. "Or I'll kill you." His hands were around Honey's neck.
Now there was a grim silence as the rapist got down to the nitty gritty of his sadistic art. His cock slammed ceaselessly in Honey's pussy, seeming to grow with every stroke.
There was no way Honey could ignore the intense friction. The walls of her cunt, previously numbed from terror, were rapidly unthawing. The nerve-endings were tingling, then dancing.
With the return of sensual awareness in Honey's twat came moisture. At first it was just a filmy slickness, but before long it was syrupy juice that eventually welled at the seams of Honey's cock-filled pussy and then trickled into the hollows of her crotch.
The rapist knew what was happening. Not only could he feel the spasming dampness surrounding his dick, he could hear his cock squish as it moved back and forth in his victim's now-sopping cunt.
"Move your ass!" he demanded.
Honey would have done so even without his command. She couldn't help it.
Honey was no longer being forcibly raped. Whether she liked it or not, she was fucking. As an equal partner in the act, her hips picked up on the erotic tempo and rolled from side to side.
Once her ass started wriggling, it was all over for Honey. She could not control the waves of unwanted pleasure rippling across her loins. On her own, she wrapped her legs around the brutal stranger and pulled his crotch against her as tightly as possible.
"Fuck me, fuck me," Honey gasped. Then she began to shout. "FUCK ME! OH, GOD, FUCK ME! HARDER! HARDER!"
Honey couldn't believe her ears. But then, she couldn't believe the unwelcome miracle that was happening between her legs, either. For her cunt was ablaze with lust, and the flames were spreading. There was no getting around it. She was an eyelash away from coming.
Teetering on the brink of a climax she desperately did not want to have, Honey only needed the slightest push from the man fucking her to pass the point of no return. The push she got was more than slight. With a thrusting grunt, the rapist let fly and shot his creamy wad into the depths of her cunt.
With the first hot spurt of jizz, Honey felt her senses snap. Suddenly, fireworks were going off in her head. Her pulse raced and her body flushed violently.
She was shaking. She was writhing. She was screaming and crying. She was coming harder than she ever had in her life.
The rapist's jizz flooded her cunt and oozed out into the open. Honey could feel it snaking down her thighs as though something were crawling on her flesh.
Still spurting, the cock in her pussy pulled out and finished its job in her face. With her mouth open to cry out with orgasm, Honey found herself drinking cum. It slithered down her throat like raw egg.
"Can't get enough, can you, you horny bitch?" the rapist laughed.
He was up on his feet now, shaking the last drops of jism onto Honey's face. Then, without so much as blinking, he pissed on her.
As the scalding stream of urine drenched her, an exhausted Honey collapsed in total degradation. Finishing his piss, the rapist splattered her body from head to toe.
Looking up at him through bleary eyes, Honey bared her teeth. "Why don't you shit on me?" she screamed. "Isn't that what a whore like me deserves?"
The rapist just laughed at her. Then he put his cock back in his pants, zipped up his fly, and left.
Abandoned, Honey was hit by a nauseating wave of rejection. Suddenly, she was seized by a desperate urge to salvage some small shred of self-respect from her rape.
"Was I a good fuck?" she called out after the rapist.
"I've had better," he answered from a distance, his drawling voice drifting on the night wind.
"Come back!" Honey cried, her frustration rising to an impossible level. "Fuck me again! Give me another chance! I'll give you the best piece of ass you've ever had! I promise! Please! Please! PLEASE, FUCK ME!"
There was no answer. The rapist was gone.
But Honey could hear his mocking laughter. She would for a long time to come.