Chapter 2
Naked atop the big canopy bed in the room the Roysters had assigned me upon arrival. How had I gotten there? I wondered. It was almost night, I could see by the fading light from the high, cut-glass window, and the last thing I recalled was afternoon and....
"Oh-!" I bolted to a sitting position and almost died from the stab of pain at my cunthole. It was coming back ... how Lonny had tricked me into playing hide-'n'-seek ... had lured me into the cellar, where I couldn't escape; and, while I fought and pleaded with him to stop, had raped me.
There was blood on the inside of my thighs. That terrible cock! The mere thought made me shiver. I could almost feel it boring in ... tearing, spreading my tender cuntlips beyond normal capacity. Tentatively, hand atremble, I fingered the sore little slit. "Owwwww!"
I reached for the vanity mirror on the night table. Sitting with thighs wide, legs over the edge of the bed, I examined the bright pink gash. It was swollen from the unholy bludgeoning. The sweet outer lips pouted like the mouth of a child about to wail. And within, the brighter pinkness, the delicate folds of my vagina retained drops of the blood that had dripped down to crust on my legs.
Heart thumping, I huddled clutching the pillows. Could this be happening? I wondered. It was as if I had stepped out of reality and into the pages of a Gothic novel. Lonny, the backward boy who had grown into a man with a prick bigger than anything imaginable, had forcefully taken me, and someone-not Lonny, I was certain-had brought me to this room, undressed me, and ... and ... oh! I didn't know what all!
Leaping from the bed, I raced to the door and yanked at the curved brass handle. Locked! "Oh, God!"
My suspicions-the things I had feared since coming to the Royster mansion six days before-weren't, after all, the mere imaginings of a giddy girl. I was a prisoner. Now all the questions the Roysters had asked about Steve, my only living relative, began to make sense. And the six days ... no doubt they had used the time to check my story.
Stunned, I returned to the huge canopy bed. I stared at the high window. The Roysters had hired me as a live-in tutor-but not to teach Lonny reading and writing and arithmetic!
In the days that followed, while my body healed from the first bludgeoning, Rhonda, a blowsy maid, looked after me. I thought about escape; but was too weak to try. And by the time I had regained my strength and had mentally plotted the route from the bedroom window, down the vines clinging like jungle rope to the old house, and freedom, Brent-apparently having anticipated my reaction to "little brother's" education-appeared to shatter the scheme.
"Feeling better?" he asked, as if I were recovering from a minor cold.
"You-! You better let me out of here!" There was an ominous note in my voice: confidence I didn't feel. I knew, unless Steve missed me and began asking around, the Roysters could hold me for maybe twenty-five years.
Solicitous grin on his ruddy face, Brent eased his bulk onto the edge of the bed. He was almost as tall as Lonny, I noted. But where Lonny was lumbering and repulsive, Brent was graceful, handsome. I became conscious of my nakedness beneath the clinging sheet. My pussy no longer ached. Now I felt the familiar tingle-the tightening which always preceded the hardening of the tiny pink soldier inside my cunt-lips.
"You've agreed to remain in our employ for a 30-day trial period," said Brent finally. "I have your name on a contract. Remember?" His huge, manicured hand came down on the sheet where it hugged my thigh. He squeezed.
The prick! I thought. The fucking lousy cock-sucker! I had, indeed, signed something when I arrived. Now I could holler my fool head off because they had me-but good!
"You'll have to forgive Lonny's eagerness." Brent leaned close. I felt his breath on my face. The hand on my thigh moved higher ... almost to my crotch. "You're his first woman," he added. "Accept my apology. When I found you on the cold cellar floor-"
"Y-You-?" I clutched the sheet to my breasts.
Brent grinned. "You have a lovely body, Carol. Do you mind if I call you Carol?"
I didn't know what to say. I was his prisoner, yet he was so gentle, so nice. And now that I knew he had carried me naked up from the cellar, it seemed sort of silly to refuse him the right to use my first name. Plus I knew he would, anyway. "If-only if I can call you Brent," I said impulsively.
"I wouldn't have it any other way." The wandering had came to rest where the sheet hugged my pussy. It rubbed. "You're a rare commodity," said Brent softly. "I've met only one other true blonde in my lifetime. But she was honey-blonde. Yours is the absolute first platinum pussy I've seen."
"Oh don't!" I protested as the fingers dug in. But I wasn't feeling the protest: wasn't upset or angry. His voice had a soothing, hypnotic affect ... a warmth that spread through the hand kneading my sex, and up my belly.
Brent's darkly handsome face moved slowly toward mine. It took a long time. He was so different from Lonny, I thought, momentarily ashamed of myself-embarrassed because I wanted him. He was making love to me. Slowly. His lips coming closer, closer. I couldn't resist: didn't want to. I opened my mouth, expecting the thrust of his tongue, the announcement that his big cock was hard and ready to enter where the fingers were probing. But the kiss, too, was gentle, soothing. I hardly felt the sheet being lifted aside-realized it only when I felt his hand on my bare little mound. I gasped. Willingly I opened my thighs and took his finger.
By the time Brent pulled his lips away, my pussy, my hot hairy hole, was ready for anything he had to offer. I watched him stand and strip the clothes from his body. He was enormous. So incredibly large. But the biggest thing about him, the absolute wonder of his muscular frame, was the magnificent torpedo-shaped glans of his prick. It was red and orange, with a touch of blue. And as I watched, panting, wondering if I could take the awesome thing without blacking out as with Lonny, it began to stand away from the curliest thatch of brown cockhair, and grow and grow and grow.
The apprehension must have showed on my face. For as Brent flung the last garment away, he said, "It's a mere baby. Twelve inches. Don't fret. If you took Lonny-!" He left the thought dangling. But his fierce dick was no longer dangling. Now it stood straight-pointed at me as he climbed back onto the bed.
Again I felt the gentleness of his lips against mine. Oh, God! I thought. Moments before I had been ready to scratch out his eyes. Now I was his. His to use. To do with as he chose. To conquer. My cunt had already begun to drip lubricant, my titties were hard, and I wanted-oh! How I wanted it!-to feel his stiffness forcing its way up my belly.
I felt myself being rolled ... first onto my side; then, as his mouth deserted mine, onto my belly. "Wha-?"
"Relax. Lie still." Brent's hands moved slowly over the soft halves of my ass. Gently he coaxed my thighs apart. His fingers flipped into my anus and vulva at the same time.
"Ohah!" I threw my hips back at him. Doggie-style! I thought. Steve liked it that way. Others too. I could hardly wait to feel his body suspended above me ... feel his cock pushing up my pussy from behind.
Finally, just as I thought I would go out of my mind if he didn't fuck it into me soon, Brent's weight shifted. I felt his legs brush the inside of my thighs; moaned and opened even wider. I couldn't breathe. I closed my eyes, gripped the pillow and waited for the wonder of first penetration. I worked my cunt muscles, lifted-whimpering, straining. Then, at last, I felt him: hard and frighteningly big. But the tip of his rod was sniffing the wrong aperture. And before I could open my mouth to object, the glans, the mighty thing I had admired moments before, was grinding its way painfully past my sphincters.
"D-d-doooooooooooon't!"
Too late! The tip was firmly embedded ... biting into my pinched little asshole with the force of a railroad spike driven by an experienced lineman.
"Oh, God! Oh, God, ohhhhhhhhh!"
The gentleness was gone. It was Lonny, not Brent, crazy Lonny suspended above my plump cheeks. I felt the lengthy thing blazing a relentless path up my shitter, tried to twist away, and succeeded only in making it hurt more. Wide-eyed I glanced back at him. His face was contorted, hard. Elevated, thick arms positioned at either side of my waist, he grimaced and applied pressure to the thing reaming my rectum.
"Stop! Oh stop! Anything! Anything only d-d-don't push in any moooooooooore!"
"Shuddup 'n' open!" he growled, pushing harder. "I-ah! I wanted this-" Freeing one hand, supporting his weight on one outstretched column of tense muscle, he squeezed my ass, "-since you first walked in the goddamn door. Now shuddup 'n' fuck!"
I was dying. Again I was being torn apart by a Royster. But there was no sense in resistance: no percentage in closing my chute and making him open me up the hard way. I had never before taken a dick in the ass. And there I was, half impaled by the second biggest prick in the world, and faced with the choice of giving my bottom or having it taken by brute strength.
"Jesus fucking Christ! It-it's too mother-fucking tight this way!" gasped Brent. "On-um! On your knees, baby! Stick-oh! Stick that cute little ass in the air. Gimme some room to get my-oh, mother! Mother! Room to g-g-get my fucking joint up your roundeye!"
I felt his hands under my belly. Reluctantly I raised up. My asshole opened. And even before I had planted my elbows on the mattress, the thing, his long, veiny cock, began to make headway. "B-bbe g-gentle," I cried. "Oh please! G-g-go easy."
Brent laughed. Taking hold of my hips, he began to twist the thing into me, in short, brutal lunges. He grunted as each advance pulled me onto the meat stake. He fucked his cock up my virgin rear until all but his balls were buried in the tight niche.
"Ow! Owwwwwww! I-I d-d-don't, um! Believe it!" From my bent forward position, head on the pillow, I could see the center of action between my gaped open thighs: could see his wrinkled sacs swaying below the blonde wedge of my pussy. Yet I simply couldn't accept the fact that his awesome member was in me. It wasn't possible! The tiny hole that hurt so when a mere turd was unusually hard, simply couldn't accommodate the incredible hardness of him!
"That's more like it," said Brent, verifying the conquest. His hands slipped from my hips, around and under, to my cunt. Two fingers on each hand spread the lips. He worked my sex as if it were an elastic band. He began to grind his coarse cockhair against my upthrusted bottom. "Move it!" he ordered. "Wiggle! Get your, ah-ahhhhh ... good fucking Christ! Get your sweet little ass going, baby. Fuck!"
Tentatively I wiggled. "Ahummmmmm!"
Brent laughed. "You dig?"
"I-I d-d-dig!" The wonder I had felt at realization that the ferocious thing was in me was nothing compared with what I now was experiencing. The walls of my rectum squeezed his cock. My pussy spewed juice. It was good. So good-as if I were being fucked in both places at once.
"That's it," sighed Brent. "But go slow. Nice 'n' easy. Make it last. Ummmmmm!"
I leaned far forward-dizzy with the sensation of that awesome dick sliding out, then grinding back ... Brent fucking ... fucking ... fucking the entire length into me. "L-like this?" I choked, gyrating.
"Oh Christ!"
"And this?" I mashed my cheeks into his wiry pubic cushion. My hips became a cement mixer. Churning. Milking. I had never in my wildest dreams expected to have a prick-particularly Brent's prick: a Royster monstrosity-up my asshole: never thought I could enjoy it that way. But it was spectacular. And although he had told me to go slow, to make it last, my hips refused to obey.
"Jesus, Mary 'n' fucking Joseph! Slow down, goddammit!" Brent's fingers, his sharp nails, dug cruelly into the tender folds of my cunt.
"Ow! OWWWWWWW!" The pain was excruciating. Still my hips, my ass, refused to break pace. I could tell by the glans of the rod breathing high in my chute that Brent was about to pop. And the thought of his cum, of hot gism blasting from that magnificent spike, made the pain bearable-almost nice. I fucked faster. My sphincters became nipping pincers. "Shoot!" I yelled. "Please! Oh please! Please! PLEASE FUCK CUM INTO MEEE!"
As if my words had touched a sensitive trigger, ignited a charge, the meat up my small ass jerked and spit a thick gob of cream. "Ahhhh!"
"Oh yes! Yessssss!" I reached down, between my legs, and cupped his big balls. They leaped in my hand. Again his cock jerked and deposited goo. I kneaded his sacs and closed tight. Fucking. Grinding my ass back and onto his spitting tool.
When it was over, when Brent had pissed the last drop, pulled out and lay beside me sucking deep draughts of breath, he said, "You have an educated asshole, teacher. I think I'll major in the subject. At least one class a day."
"Wha-what about Lonny?" I asked in a tremulous voice.
"Him you're gonna teach the ropes. From A to Z. He's like a kid-doesn't know a cunt from his elbow."
I watched him reach for the shirt on the floor beside the bed, retrieve a pack of cigarettes, light one, and fill the air below the canopy with smoke. My God! I thought. He spoke of Lonny, of me, of what had happened and was going to happen, as if we were discussing an old shoe: as if I had absolutely nothing to say in what was done to my body. For a moment I had forgotten I was a prisoner. "Suppose-well, suppose I d-don't want to?" I balked.
Propped on one arm, his cock, like a soggy rubber salami against my thigh, Brent studied my tits. His mouth came slowly down on one nipple. Wetting it, he touched the lit cigarette to the vulnerable pinkness.
"Noooo-!" I yelped, frantically pushing his hand away before any real damage was done.
"Thirty days," he reminded me. "Enjoy it, baby. Lonny's not such a bad guy once you get to know 'im. And then there's me." His mouth returned to my singed nipple.
I still couldn't believe he meant to force me into giving myself to the backward brute, Lonny. In spite of what had happened, the rape; in spite of what he had forced me to do moments before; I simply couldn't accept the fact that Brent was anything but a gentleman. The Roysters had a reputation to live up to. The town looked up to them. Yet there I was, at their mercy, being told I'd fuck and like it-or else!
Suddenly Brent crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table. He went to work in earnest on my breasts. The limp thing brushing my thigh began to stiffen. His teeth nibbled. His hand moved down and over the round swell of my belly. "A fucking blonde cunt!" he groaned. "A real live platinum pussy. Christ! I would've given half the family fortune to be the first to stick a prick in you. Who got your cherry, baby? What lucky bastard?"
Automatically my legs opened for his curious fingers. "My-my cousin S-Steve!"
"Jesus! Did you give it up willingly or make him fucking take it?"
"Yes, oh!" I closed my cuntlips tight on the dart teasing the hard bud within. "He-he f-forced me to give," I gasped, recalling the day, soon after my thirteenth birthday, when Steve, who was two years older than I, lured me into the attic-to look through an old trunk, he said-and conned me into letting him see the new curls on my mound. "We-I lived with my aunt, Steve's mother, after my folks died," I continued, envisioning the day, the feel, the wonder of a big swipe bludgeoning through my maidenhead. "But this day we were alone in the house-me and Steve. We always fooled around in the attic-wrestling and like that. But this time, while I was bent over the trunk, he came up behind, lifted my dress, felt my ass, and said, 'Boy! You're getting big, Carol. You got any hair on your cunt yet?' I-I told him I did. But he pretended not to believe me-made fun, and said, 'Okay, little girl. If you got hair on your cunt, lemme see!' And me-oh! I was so dumb! I-I turned around, toward him, lifted my dress and showed him the down peeking from the legband of my white cotton panties."
"The prettiest fucking thing the cocksucker ever laid eyes on!" Brent, as if we were in the attic, and he was Steve-ogling my virgin wedge for the first time-drove his fingers high in my nipping cunthole. Brent's monstrous dick was full hard now. He guided my hand to it. "Wha-what happened after you showed him?" he asked, closing my fingers around his excitement, making me whack him off.
"Oh! Ohahhhhhhh!" The hotness of his rod, the length, made my hand tremble. But now I was remembering how Steve proceeded to take off my panties: how he used my dumbness, my innocence, to get his way.
"He-he pushed me down on the pile of old blankets and stuff where we wrestled," I went on, closing my eyes, seeing it inside my head, as if it were happening. "'But you don't know what a cunt's for!' Steve teased, using his knees to pry my legs open. 'You're only a kid! Bet you ain't never even seen a real cock!' Then I felt him. Hard! Digging between my thighs! But it always got hard when we wrestled, and I was too young, too dumb to know what it meant. 'You don't know about S-E-X!' he taunted, dry-humping me, making my pussy all wet and tingly inside. 'I do, too!' I yelled. 'I know all about fucking and like that. I-I know about-about what Auntie does when-when the men bring her home!' I didn't really. I was guessing. I was just too embarrassed to admit how stupid I was, and repeating what I'd heard other girls say. And when his hand went under my dress-fingers oh!" I thrust my hips off the bedding, grinding, mashing my anxious cunt into Brent's enormous hand, "-fingers fucking my slit like, ohah! L-like you're d-d-doing now, I-I let him because I didn't want to be a dumb kid."
Brent's stiff joint began to throb and jerk in my hand. His fingers slipped from my sheath. Quickly he climbed between my gaped open legs. Holding himself above me, staring down with glazed eyes, he rubbed the fiery tip of his prick in my white-blonde curls. "Tight!" he hissed. "I bet the fucking sweet thing was tighter than a chicken's ass the first time!"
"P-put it up me," I breathed, lifting. "Fuck out my cunt! Do it! Oh do it! Do it!"
Brent held back. He allowed me to steer the swollen head of his rod to my gash, but splayed his hand on my belly, pressed down-holding me off when I tried to draw him in. "What happened next?" he prompted. "After he got his fingers in you. Did you fight? Try to stop him?"
"I-oh, I l-let him take off my p-p-panties," I continued. "I-I didn't really know what he was doing because the fingers had me all dopey and icky inside. Then-oh! Oh, he took out his cock. He unzipped his fly and there it was. Long and hard. All bright red and jumping like crazy. I'd never seen one before. 'Lookit!' he told me. 'Ain't it nice? Feel how hard it is. All for you. Feel!' I-I was scared not to. I didn't know why I was scared, but my stomach was doing flips. So I felt him. I-I took hold of his dick and moved my hand up and down. I knew girls who said they jerked boys off in the movies. So I jerked. I jerked and jerked and jerked until he yelped, 'Cousin Carol! Oh man! Oh manomano-man!' Then-oh then-" Again I thrust my hips up off the bed-working my cuntlips-trying like crazy to suck the fat torpedo-shaped glans up my hole, "-he oh! Oh, God! Oh, Brent. Brent, p-p-please fuck me now."
"This what you want?" With one mighty lunge, so forceful it tore a cry-an acknowledgement of bliss-from my lips, he planted half the length of his stiffness in my forebelly.
"Oh, yes! Yes Brent! Yessssssss!"
"Finish the story," he insisted. "Tell me how he fucked it into you. How it felt."
"Not now. Please. Fuck me first."
He pulled back. The lovely, glistening wet tip of his magnificent prick popped from its burrow.
"Oh nooooooooooo!"
"Not until you tell the rest of the story," he taunted, again rubbing himself in my cunthair-torturing me with the thing I had feared was too big, too thick around, to fit in the place now screaming, it seemed, to engulf him.
"Oh-! Darn you and your big fucking meat, anyway! He-S-Steve s-s-set the tip of his rod at my virgin cunthole. 'Open up!' he told me. 'Make like you're taking a pee 'n' it won't hurt!' I did. I opened my legs as wide as they'd go; opened my pussy, closed my eyes and waited for it to go in. 'Fucking man!' Steve groaned. 'I-I always wanted to do you. Even when you was a little kid. Your fucking cute ass-man! I used to watch it go in those tight jeans. Manoman! You used to give me a hard-on even when you was ten years old!' Then he drove. Hard! So hard I thought sure he was trying to kill me. It-it hurt something awful. 'Oh Steve! Stop!' I screamed. 'Steve, it feels like a knife cutting through meee!' But he wouldn't listen. He kept going in. In and in! He took hold of the cheeks of my ass, let his weight down, and humped and humped and humped until my cherry was gone. I was crying by then. And there was blood all over the place. But the pain was suddenly all gone. And when he started to screw-moving in and out between my legs-fast-faster than anything-m-my hips just seemed to keep pace all by themselves. 'I'm fucking!' I thought. 'Oh God-I'm fucking with Cousin Steve, 'n' it's so good!'" I finally finished.
Brent fell .upon me. Where before he'd held back, he now drove furiously. It was as if the story, the thought of my cherry being busted by Cousin Steve, had ignited an inferno within the stiff meat slipping deeper and deeper, humping its lengthy way up my little lovehole.
"Ohah! Ohhhhhhhhh! Fuck it! Oh, don't stop! All-all of it! Up my belly. Make it go all the way in! Hard! Harder! Fuck out my pussy! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK MEEEEEEEE!"
"Baby! Goddamn!" Brent reached under, took firm hold of my ass, spread the cheeks, and fucked the last inches of stiffness up my belly. "Hot!" he gasped. "So fucking, fucking, fucking hot 'n' tight!" He kissed me. His tongue pushed in past my teeth and batted against the roof of my mouth. And his cock! His big, magnificent foot-long spike began to stoke, to swab, to dig rapidly in and out of my wet sheath.
I was being incinerated. My body was a mass of raw nerve being scorched by his pistoning rod-crushed under his weight. But I loved it. My cunthole was singing the theme toLove Story. I threw my legs up, high on his back, almost to his broad, muscular shoulders. I drew him deeper-deeper still, greedy, straining for more. I sucked his tongue. Moaning, wanting nothing more than to feel the cream leap from his balls, I threw myself up at him ... screwing ... churning my hips ... fucking as I had never given myself before.
Brent's lips deserted mine; slid wetly down my neck, to the taut peak of one breast. Noisily he drew the rigid pinkness into his mouth.
"Ah! Owah! Suck! Oh, suck my titties!"
"You said it, doll!" His teeth clamped tight on my nipple. Biting! Hurting!
"Ow! Owwwwwwww!" The pain was fierce-but as nothing compared to the wonder, the heat, the exquisite tingle spreading through my crotch. I was soaring. The frilly canopy was a white cloud at the gate to paradise. And inside me, inside the dick my cunthole was milking toward another powerful blast, was the key to the gate. I fucked with all my might ... hips going round and round ... ass bouncing off the bed ... sloppy wet vulva slurping with each lunge of his cock.
"Oh, Christ!" gasped Brent. His stinkfinger twisted deep in my anus. His joint held at the hilt. Biting down hard on my nipple, causing fireworks to explode before my eyes, he shot.
I thought sure I was going to black out again. His cum geysered off in my twat, bringing me to orgasm, flooding my belly with sticky bliss. "Again!" I cried. "Go again! Shoot! Don't stop shooting!"
Groaning, his huge body a-tremble with release, Brent humped gob after thick gob up my hot pussy. It went on and on: a continuous orgasm that seemed to last forever and was over too soon. "Goddamn!" he gasped finally. "Oh goddamn, is Lonny in for a treat. We couldn't have found a better fucking teacher."