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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Without a Sound
by Urs (fenrissilvern@yahoo.com)
***
A mature woman is raped by her son's teenage friend. In
her kitchen. On the floor. From the rear (but of
course!)Featured are all your other favourite
stereotypes. The story was written as a present to a
real 3D person, so it was not really intended for
public to see it. In short, pardon the cliches. (F/m-
teen, nc, rp, ws)
***
Without a sound she lies on the floor. The tears roll
down her face, as her whole body trembles. Pressing her
arms tightly to her chest, pulling her knees up, she
tries to curl into a ball, but once again the
uncontrolled sobbing rips trough her body.
"My God..."
The whisper is hoarse, coming from a throat damaged by
screaming.
"My God..."
The sound of her voice is not the only thing she can
hear, there is a television set going on softly in the
background, a chirrup of commercials, all excited
voices and frantic music ricocheting around the house.
But to her this is a sound from another world. Her
whisper is the only thing real enough just now.
"My God, my God..."
She isn’t talking to anyone in particular. There isn’t
anyone around. She is the only person in the house.
Her throat tightened yet again as the tears gush forth.
She spits on the floor, trying to free her self from
the taste in her mouth. Her body is trembling and she
can not stop it. There is no getting up or even leaving
the foetal position, she doesn’t have the strength or
courage to try.
"My God..." She closes her eyes as if that could erase
the reality for long enough to allow her to compose
herself. But the images come back the same moment.
"My God..." she cries, this time in a louder voice,
before it subsides to a painful whisper again. "He
raped me..."
The music and voices on TV continue unimpressed. She
isn’t addressing anyone with her confession anyway.
"He raped me. He raped me. He raped me. He raped me."
She repeats the words over and over in a monotone,
gravid whisper. It hurts her throat to form the words
but still she repeats them. There is no other way to
face the fact. She repeats the words, soaking herself
in pain and shame of it all. She was raped. She was
raped in her home. She was brutally raped in her home
by a youth less than half her age. She was brutally
raped in her home by a mere boy. She was brutally
assaulted and raped in her home by her son’s friend,
Jeremy.
*
"Yes Ms. Evans, I would like a cup of coffee, that
would be nice."
She was aware of the way Jeremy was looking at her. All
of her son’s friends were looking at her that way, when
they thought she wasn’t noticing. It made her feel
different things. Guilt and lust. Getting horny from
being eyed by a bunch of teenagers was bad. It had to
be bad. Touching herself afterwards, imagining how they
must be masturbating thinking of Ms. Evans’ still
attractive body had to be bad. She felt guilty.
She felt torn between her instincts and her upbringing,
between her role of a mother and housewife and the
desperate heat she felt between her legs. Her husband
never understood and she knew he never would. She was a
good wife and mother and he was a good husband and
father. But she could not help getting aroused by
seeing her son’s friends look at her candidly, when
they thought she was not aware.
Jeremy was different than others. He did not seem to
care that she could tell he was looking at her. He was
the same age, as others, yes, but he looked older,
bigger, stronger, more mature than any of her son’s
friends. He played football. He had a short, spiky hair
and a tattoo on his right arm. He did not seem to care
that she could tell, he was looking at her, eyeing her,
stripping her with his eyes.
It was bad. It was bad to feel this way. Jeremy was
just a boy and he had no business looking at her the
way he did. He made her feel like a slut sitting on
that sofa, staring at her legs, his arms casually on
his thighs, as if he was getting ready to peel his
combat trousers any moment. She walked into the kitchen
to get him coffee. She knew his eyes never left her
body.
Her son was out. Didn’t Jeremy know about that?
Apparently no. He didn’t seem to mind, though, unlike
other kids, he had no problems inviting himself in and
placing his large body on the sofa in the living room.
It made her feel awkward. He was acting like an adult,
which was wrong. He stared at her as if she was a
whore. That had to be wrong.
*
She tries to prevent herself, but finally it all comes
out. It was a small wonder she did not throw up during
the rape. There was plenty of opportunities there. But
only now, lying on tiles in her kitchen, crying with
barely any sound, her body gives in gives out. The
taste is bitter and her whole body hurts as convulsions
make her thrash on the floor.
*
There was no sound as he followed her into the kitchen.
Maybe it was the noise from the television set in the
living room that masked his movement. Or... Maybe he
was just extra-silent, like a predator stalking his
prey.
"MY GOD, Jeremy, you scared me!!"
She jumped when she felt his hand on her back. She
never knew he was behind her before he touched her
through her dress.
"Oh, I am sorry.", his voice went down a few tones and
he added a few extra vowels to ‘sorry’. "Didn’t know
you were so easily scared."
"What is it?" she asked. This was a stupid question,
but she could not think of anything else. The surprise
of his hand touching her, the unease of having him so
near. The... fear. He was not supposed to be here, he
was not supposed to follow her into the kitchen. He was
not supposed to touch her, by God, she could be his
mother. He was not supposed to put his hand on her. He
was not supposed to have his hand on her. He should
have removed it.
"Jeremy, what do you want?"
Instead of answering her question, his smile widened as
he moved his hand down her back. Sliding it down her
ass made him chuckle smugly.
"I like the way you play this game, Ms. Evans. You’re a
real actress."
The rage. This is what she should have felt.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
Her voice should have been firm, strong, authoritative.
She was an adult, he was just a teenager. Her voice
alone should have put him in his place. But it was not
firm or strong or authoritative. It was trembling along
with her throat, along with the rest of her body.
He did not answer her question. Instead, he pressed his
lips against hers.
The rage. This is what could have helped.
She tried to back away, but there was really no room
for that where she was standing. She pulled back
violently. Fear and not rage. Fear. Not rage.
She pulled her had back violently.
Slap.
His cheek went red. She has never hit her son with this
much force. She was never enraged at her son. No. She
was never scared of her son. She was never scared like
this.
Jeremy smiled.
"That’s just my cue, Ms. Evans, I believe."
His... cue?
Her head snapped back when the flash before her eyes
exploded out of nowhere. He hit her. Then he hit her
again, with his open hand. Once, twice, three times.
Her head bounced right, left and right. No, this could
not be happening. This could never happen.
"You like it when I hit you?" asked Jeremy. His voice
was unbelievably calm. Confidential even, like they
were secret lovers, hiding their passion from the
world.
"You... You... animal!!!! Leave me alone THIS
INSTANT!!!"
Her words carried the command with them, but her voice
sounded more like a plea.
"Oh, no, Ms. Evans, that would be no fun, no fun at
all, would it?"
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head to the back.
His lips pressed against hers once again, but this time
he was not kissing her. This could not be a kiss, no
one has ever kissed her like this. He forced his tongue
through her lips, pressed together tightly, pulled her
hair savagely until she allowed him to French-kiss her.
He used his teeth on her lips, biting her as if he
wanted to bite them off. He pressed her against the
wall, pushing his crotch into her, he pulled her hair
hard, he breathed hard, he was hard all over.
"Oh, God, NO, LEAVE ME ALONE, JEREMY, DO YOU HEAR ME,
LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
As soon as her mouth was free she was screaming at him.
But Jeremy kept his calm. Holding her tightly pressed
against the wall, he took a handful of fabric of her
dress and looked straight into her eyes. Then he made
one violent move.
*
The sound is frightening. She can hear it in her head.
It burns through her mind. The sound of tearing fabric
is frightening. Paralysing.
*
He tore her dress off in one violent move. There was
nothing, there was nothing like this that she ever felt
before. Complete helplessness, complete and utter
shame. She was more naked in front of him than she was
ever naked before. Naked, in her underwear, in front of
a violent, strong big teenager that was her son’s
friend.
She covered her breasts with her arms, but Jeremy had
other plans. Her arms were pushed to the side, her bra
was torn off her body.
Now she was screaming. No more words, there was nothing
to be said and nothing that would make any sense. There
was no sense. There was just panic. She knew now. She
knew. The word formed in her mind. She knew what he
would do. She knew what he would do to her.
She was screaming.
Then he hit her again. This time it was with more
force. It felt as if he was losing control. It felt as
if he really wanted to hurt her this time.
"Shut the fuck up!!! Shut the fuck up, bitch!! Do you
want all your neighbours to bang on your door, eh?"
"Jeremy!", she was gasping for breath. The pain and the
fear were taking over, yet the fact that he addressed
her gave her some hope. That she could talk with him.
That they could talk this over. That she could convince
him not to... Not to.
"Jeremy, stop it please, please" When did she start
crying? Her face was wet from tears. It must have been
after he hit her again. Yes, must have been then.
"Please, Jeremy, you don’t know what you’re doing."
Jeremy took one of her nipples between his fingers and
twisted it savagely.
"Aaaawwww!!!"
"Don’t fucking tell me I don’t know what I’m doing,
bitch!!" he twisted the nipple to the other side. "Do
you hear me? Don’t fucking tell me I don’t know what
I’m doing. I know perfectly well, do you hear me? And
you know what? I know what you’re doing too!"
"no.." He was hurting her. He was going to... He was...
"no, please, please, I am begging you, stop it, please,
let’s talk about this, please" The words raced one
another, stumbling over her tongue and lips, hurrying
to gush forth, hurrying to reason with her tormentor.
"please, don’t you understand, I could be your mother,
please Jeremy."
Jeremy took hold of her breast and squeezed it
brutally. She cried in pain.
"Ms. Evans, you could NOT be my mother. My mother does
not dress and act like a slut. My mother is not a sex-
hungry whore like you. So shut up and get ready to be
fucked the way you only dreamed of."
With these words, he started forcing her to turn her
face against the wall.
*
The taste of bile in her mouth is a blessing. It erases
the taste that is making her hate herself.
She struggled. She did. He wanted to have her from
behind. She struggled.
*
"Jeremy, no, please, you’re mad, how do you think
you’ll get away with this? Please, PLEASE, STOP IT!!!"
The words were something she should have thought about
sooner, weren’t they? He was a child, her son’s friend.
Her son knew his family, her son visited his home. How
did he think he’d get away with this?
"And you’ll do what? Ha?" he grabbed her lower jaw with
his big, strong hand and pulled her face towards his.
As he spoke with rage and lust, tiny drops of his
saliva ended falling on her face. "What are you going
to do, bitch? Tell me!! Are you going to tell your
husband and your son how you acted like a slut in front
of me? Are you going to explain to the hubby how his
respected, church-going wife goes around teasing her
son’s friends? Are you going to tell him that he should
fuck you a lot harder and a lot more often than he
apparently does and that THAT might prevent you from
acting like a whore in front of schoolboys?"
He pushed her to the floor, violently. He started
unbuttoning his combat trousers.
"Is that what you’re going to tell him? Is that how
you’ll explain this to your son when he learns you have
fucked his friend?" He pulled the trousers down and his
boxers went down with them. His massive erection
surfaced.
She was crying. Her throat was tightened, hurting,
spasms making her voice be barely heard. Choking on her
own shame, on her own kitchen floor.
"I thought so. Now let’s see some of that pussy, Ms.
Evans."
When her hands grabbed her panties shame stepped back
and the fear kicked back in again. Good old fear, good
old friend panic. Stripped. Not only of her clothes and
her dignity. She was stripped of humanity, she was an
animal, kicking and screaming as he preyed upon her. No
words, just screaming and screaming and screaming.
He was about to rape her, in her own home. This boy was
going to rape her and there was no one in the world who
could help her.
*
More spasms but nothing else to throw up, she spits on
the floor in pitiful effort.
*
"I said SHUT UP, bitch!!!" Twice more his hands slapped
her face. "I don’t need your neighbours over here, I am
a shy boy. I am sure they know by now what kind of a
slut their soccer-mom neighbour is anyway."
But she couldn’t. Not that he could understand it. He
was the predator, she was the prey. How could he
understand? She carried on screaming not because she
wanted. The pain from the slaps only made her scream
louder.
"Right, you were asking for this, whore!! I tried to be
reasonable with you and we could have had fun, but you
seem eager to spoil all the fun."
He pinned her to the floor, pressing her down with his
knee and his hand grabbed her face brutally once again.
She shook her head violently, but there was nowhere to
escape. Jeremy pushed her torn panties into her mouth,
all of them, pushed them in with his fingers.
"That’s a lot better now, eh, slut? A lot better. With
that annoying noise out of the way we can finally
concentrate on pleasure."
She carried on screaming. How could she not? How could
she stop? Only now it did not matter. It did not matter
to anyone, Jeremy the least. Only muffled pleas for
mercy came through as his large body pressed her to the
floor. She felt as helpless and fragile as never before
in her life while he was adjusting his position on her.
Her arms and legs were free but there was nothing she
could do. Nothing. His weight alone was enough to keep
her down, firmly under his control.
She turned her head back, tried to look into his eyes,
saliva soaking the fabric of the panties in her mouth
as the silent screams went on. She tried to look into
his eyes and send him one final plea for mercy. But on
his face she saw only lust. Nothing else. His smile was
a smile of a man enraptured as he was struggling for a
better position on top of her.
Yes. He was going to rape her. Like an animal, from
behind. He put his hand on the back of her head and
pushed her face down on the kitchen floor.
"Oooh, Ms. Evans, I know you’ll love this!!! I know how
much you dreamed of this moment. Let’s make it special
for both of us, shall we?"
With these words, he penetrated her. His large, hard
penis started slamming into her with animalistic
passion as his hips rocked back and forth.
*
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Why, why, why, why, why? On the
floor, in the kitchen. In her home.
*
Pressing her against the floor, he sweated and growled
as his erection impaled her.
"Fucking bitch, fucking dirty slut, I knew you’d be
this hot.. Oh FUCK, I should have fucked you sooner, I
knew you wanted this the first time I saw you, bitch."
He was pulling out almost all of his length then
slamming violently back into her. She pressed her
eyelids tightly together, screaming into her gag,
begging heavens for this to come to a quick end. His
right hand found its way under her and grabbed her
breasts.
"You slutty, slutty girl, look at your tits!! You like
them squashed like this, don’t you? Don’t you Ms.
Evans?"
She tried shaking her head but the pain he was causing
her made her whole body thrash beneath him.
*
No. The only word she could think of. The only word she
could scream into the gag. And he couldn’t hear it. It
is too late now, yet she repeats it, her throat hurting
from whispered plea. If only it could go back in time.
"no... no... no..."
*
No. No. No. But no sound she could make was loud enough
to be heard against Jeremy’s groaning.
"Ohh, Ms. Evans, your cunt is so fucking hot, you are
going to make me cum so fucking hard. You fucking slut,
does your husband know how eagerly you fuck young
innocent boys?"
Crying from shame she was praying for him to finish.
She just wanted this to end before he could hurt and
humiliate her more.
When he pulled out of her, her thoughts raced. This is
it. He is done. Please, God, please, make him come,
please. Please.
She felt him adjust his position on top of her. He
pushed her head to the floor once again, and spread her
bottom cheeks.
"You know, Ms. Evans, I’ve never fucked such a hot slut
before. And you know what else? I have never fucked any
slut in the ass."
His words left her breathless. Her heart stopped. No,
no. No, he couldn’t... he couldn’t, no, no, no, he
couldn’t, he couldn’t.
"I bet you just loooove to have your ass fucked, don’t
you, Ms. Evans? Every slut loves her ass banged with a
nice hard cock, doesn’t she? You want me to tear your
asshole apart with my cock, don’t you?"
Her body shook hard and then she lost control.
"Oh GOD! Oh, GOD, you dirty fucking SLUT!!!!"
*
It hurt when he hit her. He was truly enraged, he hit
her several times, not even looking where his slaps
fell. But the pain was temporary and miniscule,
compared to the shame she still feels.
*
"You bitch, you dirty fucking bitch, I don’t believe
you pissed yourself!!! Fucking whore, you do this just
to piss me off, don’t you" He hit her several times,
over the face and then pulled her head back.
"Listen to me." His voice was low now, his mouth
pressed to her ear. "Listen to me, I know how bad you
need my cock in your ass right now and this is the only
reason I won’t beat you senseless for pissing yourself
like this. Do you understand?" he turned her head
violently towards his face so that she could look into
his eyes.
"I asked you a question. Do you understand?" The threat
in his voice was deep. She closed her eyes. She
trembled so hard she thought she would faint.
Then she nodded once, twice, three times. She wanted to
make sure he got the message. Yes. She understood.
"Good, I am glad you understand how caring I am being.
Now let’s get down to business."
*
He hurt her in more ways she could ever think of. And
to him, it was just a game. This is what hurt the most.
He joked through it, he acted upon his fantasies and
had her all the ways he wanted. This is the pain she
feels right now, sobbing on the floor.
*
He slammed into her anus with such force that she
thought he’d literally rip her apart. Her eyes almost
burst out of her sockets as she screamed into the gag,
feeling his thick penis impale her tight hole.
"Ooooh, whore, you are tight, aren’t you? I bet you
have fucked hundreds of men this way, so that means you
are making it tight just for my pleasure, right? I hope
you are enjoying it as much as I do."
The pain and humiliation were battling for supremacy.
The veins on her neck and forehead were thick and red
with blood as she screamed and screamed from pain and
shame. There was no room on the floor to get away from
his savage pounding, yet she was trying, pushing her
hips into the tiles.
"That’s it, baby, rock me, you know daddy likes it that
way!!! Come on, make daddy cum!!!!"
She didn’t know how long he raped her anally like that,
the time itself bent and lost meaning as his body on
hers rocked with foul pleasure and effort. Then,
suddenly, he was out of her.
*
There are more ways to break a human being than one can
think of. She knows that now. Broken, inhuman as she is
now.
*
"I said GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!!! NOW, slut!!!!"
He grabbed her hair and pulled her to her knees,
holding his penis in his other fist.
This. This must be it. He is finished. Please, sweet
lord, make him be finished.
Jeremy stuck his fingers into her mouth and pulled the
wet ball of fabric out. Before she could take one deep
breath, he pushed his penis savagely in.
"Ohh, yes, baby, you think I’d miss the opportunity to
fuck your pretty face? Now, you must know me better
than that." He forced his flesh brutally deep into her
mouth and down her throat, grabbing her head from
behind. She thought she’d choke as her gag reflex
activated.
"Yeah, bitch, I’ll fuck your mouth last. AFTER I have
fucked your cunt and your ass."
He pulled out of her just before she thought she was
going to throw up. She spat and coughed and struggled
to breathe, but he grabbed her head again and stuck his
penis back into her mouth.
"And you know why? Because I know you were DYING to
taste your own ass on my cock!!! Because you are just
that kind of a dirty whore"
He moved his hips back and forth, getting deeper down
her throat with every subsequent move.
"Oh, that’s it, bitch, that’s it, I knew we’d cooperate
beautifully, you were born for this, baby, you were
born to be a whore, to be raped and facefucked, I wish
I had a camera to show your hubby how much you’re
enjoying yourself."
She was trying to push his body back, but against him,
she was like a child trying to fight a bear. He was
having her the way he wanted, raping her, choking her,
mocking her.
He spat on her face and used his fingers to rub the
spit into her skin. He pulled out of her mouth and spat
into it. Then he pushed his penis back in.
"That’s beautiful baby, no whore has sucked my cock the
way you do. You are making me jealous of your hubby who
gets this kind of thing all the time."
His movements became quicker, more nervous, less
controlled, as he was nearing his climax. Her nose was
buried into his bush every time he pushed in, his
scrotum hitting her chin. His hands held her head
firmly in place. The smell of his sweat was
overwhelming.
"Did you cum yet, baby? Ha?"
The cruelty human beings are capable of. Jeremy started
moaning from pleasure, his penis twitching.
"Oh, oh, OH, OHHHHH, MS. EVANS, OOOOOOOGGGGGHHH, YOU
WHORE, MS EVANS, YOU FUCKING WHORE, YOU MADE ME CUM,
I’M CUMMING"
Jeremy pulled out and she barely had time to close her
eyes before the first load of thick, white semen hit
her face.
"Ahhhh, ahhh, you fucking whore, take it, take it
all!!!!"
He was ejaculating with no end, spraying her face,
neck, breasts and hair with his load. This was an
eruption, a loud, red exclamation mark at the end of
his savage performance.
She hit the floor hard when he pushed her back. He was
done.
He was done.
She lied down. He was done. He will be gone now. Yes.
"Well, bitch, I have to say, you have lived up to the
expectations and then some. I hope I was as good as in
your fantasies."
He pulled his trousers up. But he didn’t button them
up.
"Only one thing more."
More?
"I have to punish you for pissing yourself. I didn’t
like that and you got away with it just because I am a
nice guy and didn’t want to interrupt our lovemaking to
teach you a lesson. So, here’s the lesson now"
Holding his softening penis with his fingers, Jeremy
aimed at her face.
*
No. No. No. No. Nobody. Nobody.
*
He left her in the pool of his own urine. It was on her
face, in her hair, in her nostrils, in her mouth. He
was in no hurry as he was getting dressed.
"You know what the funny thing is? I bet you even liked
me pissing all over you. I am sure you dreamed of this,
didn’t you?"
She lied on the floor, her eyes shut. No words, no
moves.
"Don’t feel like talking, eh? Say no more, I’ll leave
you to sort out your impressions."
Casually he made for the door. Then he turned around
again.
"You know, next time, I think I’ll bring some friends.
It’s not that I doubt my own capacities when it comes
to pleasuring even such an insatiable whore like you,
you know, but I wonder how you’ll react when you get
two or more kids to fuck all your holes at the same
time and then piss all over your slutty face.. Hmmm I
MUST remember to bring a camera next time. Good bye,
Ms. Evans, We’ll get back together soon."
He left and then the silence came.
She lied on the floor. Without a sound. The tears, the
semen, the urine hurting more than the real damage to
her broken body could ever hurt. She lies on the floor.
Without a sound.
END
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 30