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Molly [M/F/f Pedo Rape]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
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From: [email protected]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Another story from Molly
Date: 30 Oct 92 14:18:22 GMT
Just another random story from the Box of Things to Come that I keep hanging
around. Any feedback welcome, email preferred. -- Molly.
************
Another wet November night, and I was late home from work again. The traffic
was appalling, and as I drove the last couple of miles, I decided that I wasn't
really in the mood for an evening round at J's flat -- what I wanted was a hot
bath and an early night.
I unlocked the door and was greeted by an impatient and slightly worried G.
"I thought you'd never get here! I called J and told him we'd be a bit late,
now hurry up."
I cursed mentally and shuffled upstairs to wash and change, splashing my face
with cold water in a futile attempt to wake myself up. Downstairs I could hear
G packing things into a bag; I called to him not to forget to take some wine.
G drove, and I tried to focus on the map that J had sent us -- he'd only
recently moved into the flat, a mercifully short drive from ours. Thankfully,
it wasn't too hard to find, and we were there in less than twenty minutes; the
traffic had, of course, deserted the roads as soon as I arrived home.
J showed us around the flat; nice enough, smaller than his last place but
closer to the city. We murmured approval, and admired the new furniture he'd
bought. I noted with a slight grin how much of the furniture could serve a
dual purpose, if its owner so desired. Had it been bought with this in mind?
Probably, knowing J.
Dinner was ready, so we sat down to eat, drink and exchange gossip. An
ex-girlfriend of J's had a new man; some mutual friends were on the point of
divorce; a friend of mine had a new job.
After a couple of hours, G stood up to leave, announcing that he had to be in
to work early the next morning. I was disappointed; after my initial
disinterest, I had enjoyed the evening in spite of my tiredness, and had been
cheerfully flirting with J.
"No, you're staying here."
"Huh?"
I couldn't think of anything more interesting to say. I closed my mouth again
and blinked in disbelief. G and J were grinning to each other -- evidently
this had been prearranged between them, though I had no way of knowing how
long ago.
"Your things are in the bag over there."
"Oh."
Again, witty repartee was beyond me. J seemed to take pity on me, and
clarified matters a little.
"G offered to lend you to me for the rest of the night."
"Do I get a choice in this?"
"No."
I nodded briefly, and decided that some light began to dawn. Only a little,
but things began to make more sense. I wondered what was coming.
I was still musing quietly to myself when G kissed me and left, smiling. I
could tell that he'd want a full report.
I sat down heavily on the sofa, and glanced over toward J, who was rummaging
in a drawer on the other side of the room.
"Uh ..."
"Take your clothes off."
"Pardon?"
"You heard."
J turned round, holding a pair of leather cuffs. I swallowed once and decided
not to argue. Slowly I stepped out of my shoes and tights, and reached round
to undo my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. I unbuttoned my blouse at a
snail's pace, looking down at my feet, and shrugged it off to lie with the
rest, then looked blankly at J. How serious was he?
He nodded. "And the rest."
I blushed, looked down and fiddled with the catch on my bra, fingers suddenly
clumsy. J came over to stand behind me. I waited to see if he would help.
A sudden, stinging slap on the rear gave the lie to that. I blinked, and
finally managed to unhook the offending underwear, before slipping my knickers
down, trying not to bend over and expose myself to his hand again.
I looked up, and saw J watching me intently, a half-smile on his face. He
extended the cuffs towards me.
"Hold your arms out."
I did so, without a word.
He locked the cuffs onto my wrists, and I twisted my hands back and forth
experimentally, testing the unfamiliar sensation. The chain between them was
quite long, hanging down below my knees when my arms hung at my sides. J
produced another lock which joined the chain onto itself, shortening it so
that I had only a few inches of free chain between my wrists.
"Kneel over there."
I did so, and looked briefly up at J, wondering what was coming next. J
selected a book from a pile on top of a cabinet and settled down to read. I
checked the title -- something obscure in computing; not pornography, not even
fiction.
I shivered slightly, and examined the chain attached to the cuffs. J turned a
page of his book. I must have moved a little too much, as the chain links
clinked together. J looked up.
"Sit still."
I waited in silence for what seemed like years, though the clock made it
something closer to half an hour. Certainly I was no longer feeling the
effects of the wine we'd drunk with dinner. I shivered again, just a little,
but the chains rattled. I winced silently.
J looked up, put down his book and walked across the room. He looked down at
me.
"Do you know why you're here?"
"Ah ... no."
He smiled.
"G tells me you have some .... interesting ... fantasies."
I blushed. He added,
"About me."
I looked down, and closed my eyes briefly, entertaining myself with a
momentary image of myself strangling G for passing _that_ little tidbit on.
"Well?"
I muttered something vaguely affirmative under my breath.
He slapped me round the face. Not particularly hard, but it made me gasp.
"_Do_ you have such fantasies?"
"Yes."
Another slap, other cheek.
"Yes, sir."
He nodded, and smiled again. I felt like a trapped animal.
"Better."
I grinned nervously.
"Now, then. Just what did these ... fantasies ... involve?"
I paused to gather my thoughts. I always did find it difficult to vocalize
what I wanted -- I could tell it was going to be even harder than usual.
"Well ..." I wet my lips and swallowed again, in a vain attempt to clear my
throat.
"Yes?"
He was tapping something against the table. I looked up to see what it was. A
black leather riding crop, unadorned. I couldn't take my eyes off it. J smiled
slightly, noting my reaction.
"Let me refresh your memory a little, perhaps."
He opened the bag that G had brought with him, and took out some items that I
recognized from home. Two vibrators. The small cat I'd made myself. And a
blindfold.
I looked down at my feet. J walked across the room and lifted my chin until I
was looking straight into his eyes.
He chuckled quietly.
"What is it that you want? If you can't ask for it, I shan't give it to you."
I took a deep breath and tried to speak. All that came out was a croak -- my
mouth was dry. I tried again.
"H ... humiliation."
"Ah! You do have a voice. I was beginning to wonder. Anything more specific?"
I shook my head mutely. Even if I had been able to string two words together,
I wouldn't have been able to say them.
"Well, perhaps you'd like to make me some coffee while I consider this. You'll
find it in the kitchen, on the shelf over the worktop."
I nodded, and held my arms out for him to unlock, or at least loosen, the
cuffs. He laughed.
"No, I'm sure you'll be able to manage."
I doubted this, but I wasn't going to dispute the point. Not with J holding
that crop, anyhow.
I walked though into the kitchen, and managed to retrieve the coffee from the
shelf without dropping it. Filling the kettle was more difficult, and I had
to look around for some kitchen roll to wipe up some coffee that had spilled
when I fumbled with the spoon. Eventually the kettle boiled and I debated how
to pour boiling water from kettle to cup without also anointing my bare skin.
The kitchen roll absorbed the worst of the mess, and I gingerly picked up the
cup and carried it through to the chair where J was waiting.
My hands must have been trembling a little, because a few drops of coffee
slopped out of the cup and onto the carpet as I put the cup down. J did not
look impressed.
"Clumsy."
I bit my lip and nodded slowly.
"For that, I think, five lashes. Stand up, and bend over that chair."
I did as I was told, and closed my eyes. I heard the 'whoosh' of the crop's
approach, and winced as it landed across my thighs. Another, harder, stroke
landed across my buttocks almost immediately, and I cried out, unable to stop
myself.
He stopped suddenly.
"You didn't count."
"I'm sorry ... sir." I couldn't reach round to rub my behind, which was
stinging painfully.
"Let's try that again. Can you count to five?"
I decided that the flippant answer would only earn me more strokes, so settled
for a quick nod.
Across the thighs.
"One."
Across the buttocks again.
"Two."
A low cut across the backs of my calves.
"Three."
A flick higher up, almost straight down one side of my back. I winced.
"Four."
And a matching one down the other side.
"Five."
"What do you say?"
I took a guess, and a deep breath.
"Thank you, sir."
It seemed to please him, as he stroked my back and legs, tracing the marks he
had just created.
I stood there, shivering quietly, noting just how damp I'd become. J helped me
to straighten up.
He looked me up and down and smiled once more. I felt as though I should be
holding up a card with name and number on. I rested my hands between my legs
in a vain attempt to cover myself even slightly, to shield myself from his
gaze. It was not working very well.
Gently he took my hands and unfastened the lock that shortened the chain
between my wrists. I shook my wrists to loosen them a little.
"Go into the bedroom."
I walked through, the chain swinging between my legs, cold against my skin.
There was a full-length mirror on one of the wardrobes; I twisted round to
try and see what sort of marks the crop had left.
J came in with the clothes I'd left in the other room.
"Put your hands behind your back."
I laboriously wriggled my legs through the loop of chain, and felt J lock the
chain back into its shorter state. He pushed me gently down to a kneeling
position and carefully tied the blindfold around my eyes, making sure that
I could see nothing at all. The darkness closed in and I wobbled slightly
before regaining my balance.
From somewhere in the room, I could hear J undressing. The soft carpet muffled
most noises, however, and it came as a complete surprise when he grabbed my
hair and pulled my head painfully back.
"How _dare_ you fantasize about me! Did I ever give you permission?"
I was completely taken aback. Did I _need_ permission?
He slapped me twice, quickly, across each side of my face. I suppressed a
gasp of pain with difficulty.
"Don't you ever think about me in that way again. Not unless I say you may."
I couldn't nod, my head was immobile unless I wanted to lose some hair. I
stayed silent.
"I think you need to be taught a lesson. One that you won't forget that
easily."
He let go of my hair and I took a deep breath, preparing to scream, cry or
beg -- I wasn't sure which, as yet. But at that point he forced my mouth open,
quite gently, and I tried not to gag as I felt him enter deep into my mouth.
He took hold of my hair again and pulled me a little way forward so that he
could push deeper into my throat.
A few deep strokes was all I could take, and I started to cough uncontrollably.
J withdrew and waited until the coughing fit had died down, giving me a sip of
water from the glass by the bed. Then he opened my mouth again and stroked
back and forth, more shallowly now, though still keeping one hand twined in
my hair.
I tried to back away, to get even a moment's respite, but J sensed the
movement and pulled me forward to stroke deeply again, forcing my mouth wide
open, stretching my lips almost to the point of pain. I attempted to yell,
but all that could possible have come out was a muffled squeak; at about the
same time, J took a couple of quick strokes and came with a low moan. I
swallowed quickly, having no alternative. A small dribble of liquid escaped
and ran down from the corner of my mouth. I couldn't tell if it was my saliva,
his semen or a mixture.
J stepped back, away from me, and it sounded as though me sat down on the bed.
I stayed kneeling, although my knees were aching. The dribble from my mouth
ran down from my chin, and continued annoyingly down my neck.
A hand reached to help me stand. My knees buckled and I came close to collapse
before J steadied me. He helped me to thread my legs back through the chain so
that my hands hung down in front of me once more, and wiped my face and neck
gently, almost maternally, with a handkerchief.
J smiled grimly once more as he removed my blindfold, leaving me blinking in
the light. He led me across the room by the chain, towards the kitchen. I
flinched inwardly at visions of sharp knives, boiling water ... I was almost
relieved when he reached up and hooked the chain linking my wrists to a hook
in the top of the doorframe. I looked down and saw two other hooks at floor
level; J produced two lengths of thin, soft rope and joined my ankles to the
hooks so that my legs were spread. He reached up to check that my hands were
still warm, before pushing gently past me to enter the kitchen. I watched his
every move closely, breathlessly.
He reached into the fridge and pulled out a tray of icecubes. I shivered from
anticipation rather than from cold, as J looked me up and down, nodding
faintly to himself.
He pulled an icecube from the tray, holding it so that I could see it clearly.
It glistened wetly in the light, the faintest of flickers from the fluorescent
light playing over it. I drew a deep breath and held it as J moved towards
me, willing myself to make no sound when he touched me.
I could feel the chill of the icecube on my skin as J moved it ever closer to
the skin on the underside of my breast. Just as I was about to draw another
painful breath, he closed the last few millimetres and dragged the cube over
my skin, outlining my breast with cold, with dampness but thankfully not
with pain. I bit my lip and concentrated on not twitching. I succeeded until
J moved the icecube back down and brushed my nipple with it.
I barely suppressed a squeal. J looked at me warningly as he trailed the cube
down to my navel and lower, lower ... I tried to shift backwards, away from
his icy touch, but could barely move. J finally slipped the ice inside me,
then ran his cold hand over my rear before slapping it hard.
"I told you not to move!"
The force of the blow caused the ice to drop to the floor. I cringed, expecting
another blow, but J merely retrieved it, then roughly shoved another where the
first had failed to stay.
A cold trickle of water ran down my thigh, causing me to blush furiously. I
tightened my muscles in a vain attempt to stop the flow, but failed miserably.
J chuckled to himself at my discomfiture and inserted another icecube. I
gasped and then winced, as the movement forced even more water out.
J stood there and watched until the icecubes had completely melted, then
reached up again to check my hands. I couldn't meet his gaze. Finding my
hands cold, he unhooked the chain and chafed them gently between his hands
to warm them, then untied my feet. While I waited numbly, unsure if I could
ever look him in the face again, he went to his room to find robes for us
both. I looked blankly at him, wondering if this was the start of another
challenge. He grinned faintly.
"No, no strings attached to this one. No ropes, either. You need to warm up."
Later, I lay wordlessly next to him in an unfamiliar bed, reflecting on the
evening. I was still unsatisfied and reached a furtive hand down to toy with
myself, thinking J to be asleep.
I was wrong; a hand intercepted mine as I inched it down over my belly. J
turned over, and drowsily whispered "Still not had enough?"
He pulled me towards him and guided my hand down -- he was hard, and I allowed
myself at last to hope for some release. We kissed firmly, and he nibbled
gently at my lips, my neck, my ears. He reached down, and found me wet;
wasting no time, he moved across, smiled down at me and entered me, none too
gently. I pulled him down onto me and we moved as one, rocking bodies back
and forth in perfect synchronization, quickly building until my involuntary
cry as I arched my back in helpless spasms, J groaning with pleasure. We fell
back onto the bed, gasping for breath.
I dozed off, smiling to myself.
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
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