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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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WARNING!
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Compulsion
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
A young man of immeasurably low esteem, sees rape as
his only chance of sexual fulfillment. (Mf-teens, nc,
rp, chloroform)
***
Luke Randall wasn’t exactly what you’d call a good-
looking guy, not even half-ways worthy of a second
glance from a girl’s viewpoint. In fact as far as that
was concerned, there weren’t any girls in Trinity,
Idaho had gotten as far as even HAVING a viewpoint as
to Luke’s particular existence.
Now twenty, he had somehow completed his education at
Westmore High, his grades having been no more
impressive than his peer-ranking. Perhaps his science
lecturer had nailed it succinctly when he wrote on
Luke’s essay "Atomic Fission: The Post War Challenges"
... "Luke, if you ever find yourself within the
proximity of a nuclear reactor – don’t touch anything!"
Five-nine at a stretch, dark lanky hair that defied any
particular style. It simply grew! More than his share
of acne and with a dress sense that ranked somewhere
between white trailer-trash and Dennis Hopper mid
adolescence.
It wasn’t as if he had the opportunity to excel in
sport. He could neither wield a baseball bat or cut it
as a line-back. Not that he was especially weak, simply
uncoordinated as all hell. Thus, with basically no
friends, no future and less than no self-esteem, you
can understand Luke’s resentment at having been born.
Life at home was little better. The youngest of three
children, his two sisters being several year’s older,
Luke himself was an unplanned and in his view unwanted
addition. His father, a retired welding contractor, had
no interest in anything much beyond keeping an eye on
the beer stocks in the fridge. Parenthood had simply
been a rude interruption to his life-style. He knew
he’d had a son but would have needed prompting to
describe him.
Luke’s mother, one might kindly refer to as a faded
beauty, but then one would really be lying. A mousey
blonde, her best days were long behind her at sixteen,
not that this would have been a problem for Luke’s
father, whose eyes rarely strayed between the neck and
knees of any girl... then or now.
But Luke had one friend, two if you include his
driver’s license! She was his ideal companion.
Uncomplaining, she accompanied him everywhere. He would
even stay-up nights just looking at her, the fading
sunlight reflecting off her shapely rear-end as she sat
there on the grass resplendent in all her finery.
Almost eighteen-foot long give or take an over-rider,
that gold ’69 Buick Electra hard-top was Luke’s
greatest, if not only joy. He had nursed her though
ill-health, spent most every dollar he had earned from
part-time work on her betterment and she had repaid him
handsomely by way of unshakeable loyalty and
reliability. He loved her, but now she had to help him.
He had never actively pursued the opposite sex at High
school. Partly from fear of rejection, partly fear of
acceptance, but principally, in recognition of his
limited social standing. Definitely from the wrong end
of town for the sort of girl he dreamed about.
The hormones had kicked-in on time but the call had
never been answered. Between them, Hugh Hefner, Bob
Guccione and Larry Flynt had only been able to offer
temporary stapled relief and anyway, silicone implants
really weren’t the sexual panacea Luke was looking for.
He wanted a cute and loving little home-town girl, no
manufactured blonde fantasy hot off the bench-press.
Within striking distance of twenty-one now, his craving
for youthful female company had reached critical mass.
There was only so much solace to be derived from cyber-
porn, and the old standby - his trusty bar of soap.
At the car-wash where he held down a casual job, there
were a couple of girls in the office. One he had
summoned-up the courage to ask out – before she cut him
dead with the needlessly hurtful reply. "No offense
Luke, but go look in the mirror – I do have a
reputation to look after y’know!" Kristy the other
girl, already had a full-time boyfriend who just
happened to be the star pitcher for the State League
team.
Loneliness gave way to despair, desire to unfettered
sexual imagery. He began imagining what it would be
like to have a lover, one who would accede to his every
whim unquestioningly. His orgasms became stronger and
more prolonged, in direct proportion to his evolving
dark fantasies.
He began spending more time in his room, a converted
garage at the rear of the property, alongside which his
father had helped him build a corrugated iron car-port
to house the Buick. The arrangement suited the entire
family. No-one need ever be expected to more than
simply acknowledge the other’s existence.
With seemingly no likelihood of ever being able to
engender a normal heterosexual relationship, Luke began
reading true-life rape tales. Whether or not they were
in fact kosher really didn’t matter to him. Just the
thought of having that awesome power over a young and
innocent girl, filled him with longing. He began to see
it as his destiny. Payback of sorts for all those years
of put-downs and snide comments.
He began cruising local schools, just watching the
girls as they left for the afternoon. Just the way they
would giggle, hold hands, toss their hair back and
every other little affected girlish mannerism, he
missed no detail. He began to imagine some of them back
in his room, hot for his caress and offering little
resistance to his intemperate needs.
Implementing a plan however was another question. He
could hardly cruise-on down to the school gates mid-
afternoon, parents and relatives offering clustered
protection and especially in a car which just about
every second resident of Trinity would recognise two
hundred yards distant. No, he would need to think this
one through.
Night meant increased safety, while at the same time
virtually eliminating opportunity. What school-girls
would be walking around town unaccompanied after dark?
For sure, none that he would be interested in! He
figured he owed it to himself at least to go check-out
the scene that evening.
The mere reality of his being on-site, "prowling" the
sidewalks that night sent a hot flush through him. A
predator-come-lately perhaps but at least he was
"doing," not "dreaming." He had parked the car in a
dark back-street just off the main drag, yet five
minutes walk from the center of town.
Not that Trinity had what you could call a "Town
Center" as such, just Union Park with its Council
chambers and old stucco Town Hall which rather like
Trinity itself, had long since seen better days. A
light breeze induced some brief motion in the flag atop
the Court House fronting the main entrance to the Park
and through which one or two people were obviously
about to take their evening constitutional.
A young couple strolled past Luke as he stood just
inside the doorway of Al’s Diner that had been forced
to close the previous month, having been several weeks
behind on the rent. Their happy chatter and the loving
expression on the girl’s face as she clutched the man’s
hand as they passed, angered him momentarily.
He walked towards the eastern boundary of the park now,
crossing Marriot Boulevarde at the lights. Two girls in
a black Saab convertible screeched to a halt. Eminem
was emphasising the depth and resonance of the car’s
sound system insisting "Two trailer-park girls walk
round the outside, round the outside, round the
outside..." The girls stared at Luke and the one
driver’s side called out to him, "Wot you lookin’ at
dickhead?" They accelerated off before he could reply,
leaving him little but the use of his middle finger.
"Couple of hoes," he thought to himself. He wasn’t far
wrong either.
He walked for twenty minutes or so, not with any
particular plan, just checking the lie of the land as
it were. As he crossed to the corner of Third Avenue,
"Brent’s Alnite Drugstore" loomed large, a shimmering
beacon of blue neon light that illuminated an area at
least fifteen feet across the sidewalk and onto Marriot
Boulevarde itself. Standing at the shop’s entrance,
Luke caught the not unpleasant odour of pharmaceutical
and medical preparations, toiletries and allied
drugstore supplies. A thought came to him. At the
counter he was surprised just how easily he had ordered
it.
"A small bottle of chloroform please," he had
requested.
When asked if it was for him, he simply replied that he
was just getting it for his mother and that he didn’t
know what she needed it for. He was most convincing and
the pharmacist handed it over with no fuss.
Aside from a few girls in small groups leaving the
theater, there didn’t appear to Luke to be too many
opportunities presenting themselves. He foresaw that it
would be much the same any night and manic depression
began to overwhelm him once more.
He didn’t want to go home already as it was only a
quarter after nine and all that awaited him there was a
pile of stained magazines, fuzzy video cartridges and
wall to wall loneliness. He decided that hunched-up in
the corner of Rick’s Charcoal Chicken Basement with a
hot coffee and a ham on rye was probably as good as
anything else on the horizon.
The caffeine coursed through his venal system – shame
the rye was yesterday’s. Luke sat there sullenly,
watching customers play out their seemingly happy
lives, purely at the expense of his escalating torment,
he figured.
At that moment a young girl with a back-pack stepped
through the entranceway, sending the plastic strips
into temporary confusion. She looked very unhappy but
walked up to the counter and ordered a Coke and a
sandwich. Luke watched as she sat down with her back to
him just a couple of alcoves up, shuffling her tray
around nervously as if deciding whether to eat or drink
first. From what he had seen, she was rather pretty.
The girl had fairly long light-brown hair, shining and
obviously well-cared for. Prettily swept back into a
ponytail, it was held in place by a piece of dark-green
ribbon that contrasted sharply with the caramel colored
top she had on. Her short dark skirt accentuated both
her youth and the slender perfection of her legs. He
wished he could see her face again.
As he watched, she seemed distracted and put down the
Coke. The sandwich he noticed, she had barely touched.
As she lowered her head, he heard her begin sobbing as
she covered her face with her hands. By no means
hysterical crying, she was gripped obviously by some
deep personal misery.
This was a situation outside Luke’s experience. Most
any situation was come to that! Something about the
girl’s immediacy touched Luke and as no-one else seemed
to be paying her much heed. An older couple two tables
up turned and glanced at her before continuing on with
their conversation. He got up and walked towards her.
"Excuse me Miss," he said standing alongside her table
somewhat awkwardly, "Are you OK?"
She glanced up at him, evidently surprised by his
presence. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by the
intrusion.
"Yes, I-I’m fine thank you," she lied. "Just got a few
problems, but thanks for asking. I’ll be fine." She
dabbed her eyes with a serviette and Luke found himself
staring at point-blank range at the prettiest of
little-girl faces. Even tear-filled, her blue eyes were
enough to melt his heart. Beautiful soft features,
cutest little turned-up nose set between smooth cheeks
with all the flush of youth.
At her temples, strands of brown hair curled into
little feathery bangs just overlapping the tops of her
small but clearly defined ear-lobes. She wore tiny
golden ear studs, that for a moment reminded him of the
Electra. Most appealing though was her mouth. Intensely
kissable and lightly glossed lips that curved
delicately upwards just enough to let you know that
here was mother nature truly unplugged, a rare example
of female genetic perfection.
Luke gulped. "Want to tell me what’s wrong Miss?" he
managed somehow to get out.
She looked at him for a moment, instinctively aware of
his social discomfort.
"Look, its nothing really, just a few issues at home,"
she replied.
"C-could I sit with you for a minute?" he asked, hardly
daring that she would ever acquiesce. "My name’s Luke
by the way," he added hopefully.
Inviting him to sit down, she told him her name was
Ashley. He learned that she was sixteen and attended St
Angelus College, an expensive private educational
facility in the northern and far newer sector of
Trinity. When she predictably asked where he lived, he
felt a flush of embarrassment, telling her simply, "Oh,
just near the rail terminus," but she didn’t seem to
make any adverse connections.
The "issues" she mentioned earlier proved to be
stubborn parents that she felt were denying her, her
freedom. Specifically, a father who refusing to admit
to himself that his daughter was barely a child any
longer, would not allowed her to go out to a rock
concert with other girlfriends. She told him she had
just walked out of the house that evening in anger as
she had been given free tickets and it was something
she was really looking forward to.
All the time she was speaking, he was gazing at her and
wondering if this was simply God indulging himself in
another round of humor at Luke’s expense. Tempting him
beyond the boundaries of sanity with the presence of
this exquisitely beautiful young girl.
"Have a good look son, it’s as close as you’re ever
gonna get!"
An unheralded vision of her tied-up helpless on his bed
brought a blush to his cheeks. He looked away
momentarily. He felt the small bottle in his trouser
pocket and immediately rebuked himself for the images
it brought.
"Well Luke," she said, "I suppose I’d better be getting
home. I’ve never ‘run away’ before... even if it was
only for an hour or so! My dad will be looking for me
soon coz I switched my cell off."
On impulse, he said to her.
"Well hey Ashley, I have a car just round the corner.
Let me take you back, you can’t walk home alone this
time of night." Then, as an afterthought, "It’s OK...
I’m pretty safe!"
She smiled at him.
"Sure it’s not out of your way?"
"Yeah, like at least ten minutes," he replied in a
mock-inconvenienced tone.
She gathered up her back-pack and they left Rick’s
Charcoal Chicken.
Luke’s mind was in hyperdrive as they walked to his
car. He knew she would never, could never, go out with
him. This was the only opportunity he could ever see
himself as having. She was the girl over and above any
that he had fantasisied about and if he was to do it...
this was the moment. Still chatting to her idly, he
slowly retrieved the small bottle from his pocket.
"Whoa!" she said when they reached the Buick. "Is this
really your car?"
"Yeah," he replied. "I’ve had her for a couple of
years. Bit heavy on gas, but she’s a dream to ride in."
"Really cool car Luke," she said. "I love it."
Opening the passenger’s side door for her, he ushered
her in. The glow from the courtesy light permitted Luke
a momentary glance of her skirt riding up her thighs as
she sat down. Being a really warm night, he had her
lower all four windows from the central console."
"Just have to get my bag out of the trunk Ashley, hold
on a sec." He glanced around the darkened street... not
a person in sight.
He almost dropped the tiny bottle in his haste. He
hadn’t realised it until that instant, but the
adrenalin-rush had imbued his body with a fit of
shaking. Retrieving a small cloth he kept near the
spare tire, he quickly unscrewed the bottle and poured
several drops of fluid on to the rag, soaking the
center part, while keeping it at arm’s length and being
careful not to breathe more than necessary. He hadn’t
been thirty seconds.
"Ready now," he called to her. A last glance around
revealed no newcomers to the street.
In two steps he was beside her. Clamping the cloth
tightly across her mouth she struggled immediately of
course, trying desperately to force his arm away. She
beat at it, but to no avail. The car being pillarless,
he was able to hold her tightly against the seat and in
a matter of seconds the chloroform took hold, her
struggles subsided and she yielded no further
resistance.
He let her breathe the fumes for just a couple of
seconds more to ensure she was deeply under. He then
tossed the rag back in the trunk, climbed into the
driver’s seat and buckled up. She looked for all the
world like a sleeping girlfriend.
Driving straight into his carport, he knew no-one would
be outside. His father would either be watching TV or
getting drunk... hopefully both. His mother if she was
home, and not at a friend’s place as usual, would be in
bed by now and asleep. Both sisters had moved out long
ago.
The stillness of the night contrasted to that of his
heartbeat as he got out and retrieved the key from its
customary place over the door lintel. Leaving the
front-door ajar he returned to the Buick where Ashley
still lay unmoving across the seat that he had set to
the maximum lay-back position.
By moonlight, she looked to him an angel at rest. Just
for an instant as he moved her, the light reflected off
the little pendant that hung around her neck, murdering
his conscience, imperiling his very soul.
She was so light, her arms hanging loose by her side as
he carried her inside quickly. As he entered the
solitary little room, he tried to imagine if this was
what it felt like carrying one’s bride across the
threshold. The young girl’s breasts were clearly
accentuated now given her limp and vulnerable position.
He lay her gently down on his bed and hurriedly
returned to the trunk to fetch the chloroform bottle
should he need it.
He saw the room so differently suddenly. Its
shortcomings were underscored by her very presence. His
bed now, looked to him the worn and pitiful item of
furniture that it was. The creased and far from clean
quilt contrasted with her neat attire. The threadbare
carpet seemed to complete the picture. Beauty and the
Beast... with new players.
He partly addressed the problem by turning off the
harsh center light and switching on the bedside lamp
that at least made some pretense at gentility. He
simply could not take his eyes off her. He had caught a
glimpse of her light-colored panties as he laid her
down. Now as she lay on her back, he could see a hint
of them once more. He felt a substantial stirring right
where he needed to.
He approached the bed and very gently re-arranged her
legs so that more of her undies were visible. She was
still out cold and he had free rein for now. Sitting in
the chair opposite, the view now was substantially
improved and he unzipped himself. Definitely no need
for soap tonight he realised. He began to pleasure
himself as his fantasies kicked-in big-time given the
scene before him.
From the chair, her fully indecent pose suggested to
him, innocence betrayed and in his mind she was doing
this to arouse him further. Staring at her, he
visualised her masturbating just for him.
He felt the first orgasm racing to the surface and
barely made it to the bed. Kneeling there, Luke
directed the hot magma spurts right across the front of
her panties. Several globs caught the edge of her
skirt, others the inside of her legs. He stared
fascinated as his reproductive tide began to seep-in to
the material.
With his face but a couple of feet from her most
private of possessions, he gently held aside her
panties and stared at the hottest sight that he had
ever seen. Though not fully exposed, her vagina, framed
by the prettiest short curly hair, was the sexiest and
most beautiful thing he had ever imagined. Using his
finger to propel a tiny rivulet of semen that was
running down her inner thigh, he inched towards the
forbidden fruit. Although not opening her eyes, she
began to stir.
Shaking out a few more drops of chloroform on to the
rag, he got careless and breathed-in enough to make him
almost pass out. Recovering swiftly, he climbed back on
the bed and held the material beneath her nose. She was
senseless again seconds later.
Arousing as Ashley looked in that lewd pose, he had so
much more to accomplish. Her breasts, quite small, yet
such prominent beacons of desire fascinated him. For a
while he just knelt there fondling them gently and
relishing their softness. When that was superseded by
the need to explore further, he slipped a hand down her
blouse and inside her frilly and ultra-soft bra. The
skin to skin contact just about blew his sanity.
Passing his hand again and again over her nipples he
felt them hardening and even though this was an
automated response, to Luke, she wanted his attentions
and was teasing him unmercifully.
First things first though. Laying there on her back,
face slightly to one side, obviously she wanted to be
kissed. That he could do, and lowering his head while
still holding her breasts, he kissed her hard on the
lips. The taste alone almost brought him to a second
closure.
Losing much of the limited control he still had, Luke
literally tore the front of her blouse until it gaped
open, exposing her bra completely. He pushed the flimsy
material up, freeing her beautifully formed young
breasts. His mouth drying up rapidly like the Utah Salt
Flats, he could but stare at her tiny light brown
nipples that he had managed to arouse visibly. Lowering
his mouth, his lips closed around the milky softness.
He started to suckle her.
This time he knew what he wanted. Ejecting on cue, he
directed his semen over both breasts and her face. One
nipple was covered, her cleavage glistening, while a
thin whitish trail trickled now down her left cheek. He
was getting there!
He had now an all-consuming need to see her naked. It
was then but the least difficulty in divesting her of
her skirt and slipping her hot little panties off the
rest of the way. Turning her back over, he stared at
his handiwork... leastways, God’s handiwork! He sat
back in his chair just taking in her pronounced hips,
curved waist and breasts thrust out in anticipation of
his touch. He arranged her arms up above her head, her
legs wide apart so that she was in all appearances,
begging to be taken.
If only. It’s what he brought her home for isn’t it? To
rape a girl...that had been the plan. But could he do
it? What would happen after that? She knew him now,
could identify him. So far all he had done was
basically abduct her for a while, though that was her
word against his anyway. True he’d undressed her and
felt her up, but nothing that would stand-up in Court.
Of course being forensically uninformed, Luke was
unaware that courtesy of his index finger, he had
already shoved enough DNA up inside her to convict a
herd of intellectually-challenged rapists. But what he
didn’t know, hardly occupied his right brain activities
did it?
That she would come around of course was beyond
question. He simply hadn’t exactly planned the rules of
debate from that point onwards. What he was thinking
though is that maybe he could just get it in her once
or twice. Who’d know? Certainly not her if she was
still out.
This was the stuff of dreams. A naked teenage girl,
letting him do what he wanted to her. Wasn’t strictly
an accurate summation of the circumstances he knew, but
it was close enough.
Kneeling on the bed, he penetrated the folds but a
fraction. She was so hot within. He groaned, both with
pleasure and at the sight of her body seemingly
yielding to his ministrations.
"You want me to do this don’t you Ashley?" he muttered,
the reality of his actions now an all-consuming emotion
for him.
As he began to meet with some resistance, he was
inwardly pleased that she was obviously still a virgin.
It made it all the more special. As he increased the
pressure and the depth of penetration, he felt her body
react. She seemed to wince slightly even while still
out. His need was great, his urgency greater. Long past
the "Let’s back off while we’re still safe" zone, he
simply was riding a blinding urge now.
He felt the hymen give and glancing down, saw a trickle
of blood exiting her body. But it wasn’t as red as his
lust right at that second. Now he was raping her, no
other word for it. He could hear, see, and feel nothing
but his relentless pumping action. If he had, he would
have seen her open her eyes.
He sensed her legs widen further, the girl’s breathing
became as irregular as his own. He thought he felt her
raising her hips but was too close to consummating the
deed to question that likelihood.
As his residual sperm-supply rode the tube at warp
factor ten, spraying the girl’s vaginal walls every
which way, he cried out in a passion, "I so love you
Ashley."
He didn’t even notice the onset of her tears.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 39