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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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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Carol
by VK (spectrevk@gmail.com)

***

Carol is a young conservative woman going to college. 
She hates most of the other girls, thinking that they 
are "feminists", and she hopes to find a good, old 
fashioned kind of guy. Unfortunately for Carol, she 
gets her wish. (MF, nc, rp, v, oral)

***

DISCLAIMER: Misogyny is NOT COOL. Women aren't sex 
objects, rape is never okay, and anyone who thinks 
women should stay at home and keep their mouths shut is 
a Neanderthal, regardless of their gender. This story 
is intended as part-satire, part-rape fantasy. Nothing 
like this should ever leave the realm of fantasy, 
period. And obviously, if you are prohibited from 
reading sexually-explicit materials due to your age or 
other factors, stop reading this now. 

***

Carol began her day the same way she always did: out of 
bed at exactly 6am, a quick, efficient shower with no 
delaying, and a healthy breakfast while watching the 
news. Now, Carol couldn't watch just any news: most of 
those "mainstream" channels were too liberal for her, 
corrupted by feminism, socialism, multiculturalism, and 
who knows what else. 

Carol was proud to be a virtuous, and white, woman who 
knew her place. Not that she was timid and broken, like 
those poor 3rd world women; in fact it galled her that 
other girls would often think of her that way when she 
talked about politics in class. She was a college 
student, and a damned good one too. 

She would study, and work, and enjoy doing both. But 
unlike those other girls, who were too selfish to do 
the right thing, she would give up her career as soon 
as she had children, or her husband asked her to. In 
Carol's mind, this was simply the way nature intended 
women to be. It didn't mean she was a doormat, or that 
there was something wrong with her. To obey a man in 
all things was simply the right way, in her mind. A 
good, strong, forceful man. A man who knew how to treat 
and make use of a good woman like her. That's what 
Carol wanted. That afternoon, she would get part of 
what she wanted.

The day went by without anything to mark it as 
outstanding. Carol dreaded Thursdays, because of her 
required Women's Studies class... as part of topical 
breadth, everyone had to take it. And as she expected, 
the class was a haven for man-haters and so-called 
"independent" women, who clashed frequently with the 
boorish, misogynistic frat-boys who were forced to 
attend in order to graduate. 

To the shock of everyone but herself, Carol was 
frequently seen coming to the aid of the frat boys 
during class discussions. That day, Carol found herself 
arguing with a particularly butch looking girl named 
Alex. "Probably a dyke", Carol thought to herself, her 
face turning sour at the thought. The feeling was quite 
mutual. 

"How can you think this way?" asked Alex angrily. "You 
make it sound as though every woman should consider it 
an honor to be shackled at home, barefoot and pregnant. 
We're just as smart as men, we're studying just as 
hard, and you would throw all of that away instead of 
insisting on the equal partnership you deserve?"

Carol responded coolly, "Of course. Your problem is 
that you've been brainwashed by the rantings of some 
very sick women in the 1970's. We all have to grow up 
someday... a little girl is never denied anything by 
her father, because she's daddy's little girl. But when 
that girl becomes a woman, and is taken by a man for 
his wife, her place is to serve. It's simply the law of 
nature. Look around you at the animal kingdom. It's 
what we're meant for. Men are the hunters, and we take 
care of them. Not by commanding them, but by obeying 
them."

A roar of approval rose up from the ranks of the less 
enlightened men in the crowd, and Carol smiled to 
herself. It was good to see that the world still had 
men who weren't cowed by liberal propaganda. Her 
argument with Alex continued throughout the discussion 
section of the class. Afterwards, on her way out, she 
was approached by a tall, muscular man who looked to be 
in this mid-30's. 

"Hello... Carol, is it? My name is Eric. I love what 
you were saying in there... so rare to find a woman who 
will speak her mind about knowing her place. If we had 
a few more thousand girls like you, the world would be 
a better place."
Carol blushed at the compliment. "Why thank you Eric. I 
was just raised right, I guess. I really believe in the 
natural order of things.

"Is that so, Carol? I think I like to put that to the 
test. You see, I'm already a wealthy man. I own my own 
estate in the Bahamas. I'm really just in college for 
the experience, but meeting you... I think I've found 
what I'm looking for. Would you like to grab some 
dinner?"

Carol agreed, and the two began dating. After only a 
couple of weeks, Eric made a stunning offer. "Carol, 
you are a good, obedient woman. I want you for my own", 
he said in a soft, but stern voice to her as they 
watched the sunset though the glass pane of his patio 
door.

"What do you mean, Eric?"

"Don't play stupid, Carol. I know you aren't."

"But marriage? So soon? We've only just met, I don't 
know if..."

"You don't need to know anything. You know too much as 
it is. I thought you said you really meant all of those 
things about knowing your place? I'm the man here, and 
I'm telling you—"

"But Eric, I still have a choice—"

Carol's last words were cut short as Eric slapped her 
with a stiff stroke. She couldn't believe it, and her 
incredulity was all the opening Eric needed. He grabbed 
the bottom of her shirt and quickly yanked it over her 
head. Carol thrashed violently in protest, but her arms 
were still caught in the shirt, and soon she felt 
herself being thrown violently to the ground on her 
stomach, with Eric's weight pressing on her back. She 
couldn't see a thing with the t-shirt over her face, 
and the couldn't breathe. 

Before she could start to panic, she felt the shirt 
being pulled over her head, and she could see clearly 
again. Behind her, Eric used the shirt as a crude 
binding to tie her arms behind her. Not stopping to 
admire his handiwork, he savagely tore off her bra, her 
skin turning red from chafing. There was no doubt in 
Carol's mind as to what Eric was doing now. 

He was going to rape her. She had been chosen as his 
mate, and she had no choice in the matter. The initial 
shock of the attack had passed, and she had at last 
begun to find her voice, but Eric's large left hand 
clamped over her mouth before she could scream. 

His hands worked quickly and violently, stripping her 
of her jeans despite her kicking legs, and then tearing 
her panties to shreds. He pinched her nose to force her 
to open her mouth for air, and shoved the panty scraps 
into her mouth as a gag. And then he raped her. Slowly. 

He held her down with the full force of his weight, and 
slowly pushed his hard cock into her, inch by inch. He 
fucked her slowly, savoring each thrust, squeezing her 
breasts with as much tenderness as he could manage, 
sucking on her breasts as though he were her lover. 
This was lovemaking to him, she thought to herself. And 
as she lay there on the carpet, stripped naked, 
bruised, and violated, she began to defend what he was 
doing to her... after all, she must have been leading 
him on without realizing it. 

After all, wasn't he just talking about marriage? It 
was a wife's duty to service her husband as he saw fit. 
This wasn't rape. She wasn't being raped, she told 
herself. She wanted this, somewhere deep down. She knew 
it wasn't true, but that is what she told herself, 
until just after she felt his cock trembling within 
her, unleashing a torrent of semen into her womb, when 
he withdrew from her sex and turned her back over onto 
her stomach. 

She had time for one muffled scream before he trust 
himself full bore into her anus. Every inch of her 
cringed as he forced his slimy wet cock into her tight, 
virginal asshole. And she knew then that she was being 
raped. Eric savored this as well, taking his time with 
each long, brutal thrust, savaging her anally again and 
again until she felt the world growing black around 
her, and fell unconscious.

When Carol awoke, she found herself in a brightly lit 
room that looked a bit like a medical clinic. Her 
senses were dulled, her limbs unable to move quickly. 
As she slowly began to regain her muscle control, she 
realized that she was reclining in some kind of 
hospital bed. She tried to move, but couldn't, and she 
couldn't feel anything either. 

Willing her eyes to focus, she tried to observe her 
situation more, and found that her arms and legs were 
tightly secured. After a few minutes of solitude, she 
was joined by a man in doctor's scrubs and a surgical 
mask. "Eric?" she rasped weakly. The man shook his 
head. "No, you won't be seeing him for a little while, 
not until you've been properly prepared. But don't 
worry, you'll be unconscious for most of it. Just relax 
while we do some tests to make sure we don't over-
medicate you. Can't have you dying on us." 

Carol's bed was wheeled down a hallway, where three 
other men dressed similarly to the man in the scrubs 
joined them. Several turns later, they arrived in a 
sterile looking room, with a reclining medical chair 
(complete with stirrups) in the center. The men began 
to roughly unfasten the thick leather straps that held 
Carol in place. The men quickly stripped off the paper 
gown she was wearing and transferred her, completely 
nude now, to the chair and strapped her in. 

Carol was frightened now, more than ever. She was 
helpless, in the hands of strangers, and nude. Then one 
of the men pulled a lever on the chair, and the 
stirrups moved apart, spreading her legs for the men to 
see. Another approached her, moving between her legs 
with something in his hands, but before she could see, 
her head was yanked back towards the headrest and 
strapped in tightly. 

She felt a warm, wet substance pass over her sex, and 
realized that they must be washing her. A thick finger 
pushed between her swollen labia, exploring her 
clinically. She heard the sound of scissors being used. 
She was being shaven. Her pubic hair was being shaven, 
like a whore's. Her stomach became sick again. 

And then she looked up, and saw a set of electric 
trimmers hovering above her head. She screamed as 
loudly as she could, not even knowing why. The terror 
just consumed her, but the men were unmoved. They 
shaved her body completely clean, leaving her a mass of 
smooth, hairless flesh. And then began the tests... 
standard medical tests like blood pressure at first, 
then blood was taken. 

She felt fingers and other objects entering her from 
below, and at once point became aware that the object 
inside her was a penis. She was being raped while in 
the stirrups, and the other men were lined up for their 
turn as well. They used her for what seemed like hours, 
pounding her pussy like machines, stretching her inner 
lining with brutal, uncaring thrusts. And then, when 
they were finished, a small prick in her arm, followed 
by unconsciousness.

Carol awoke with a start, thrashing her arms and legs 
wildly. "I have to get free!" she thought desperately. 
And, strangely enough, she was free. No straps, no 
bonds at all, and she was dressed in a modest 
nightgown. She was no longer in a hospital, but instead 
was lying on top of a soft, king-sized bed in a well-
furnished master bedroom. 

For a moment she thought that it had all been a dream, 
until she felt her inner thigh brush against the smooth 
flesh of her pubic mound. She ran her fingers along her 
scalp, and found that her long, golden hair was now 
gone. Her heart trembled in terror, threatening to jump 
out of her chest, when suddenly the bedroom door 
opened. 

It was Eric, dressed in a richly tailored robe. Strong 
chest muscles lay dormant beneath its folds, and for a 
moment, when she saw his hard, angular jaw and crisp 
blue eyes, she felt at ease. Until she remembered, with 
growing disgust, the sensation of him forcibly 
sodomizing her.

"Ah, Carol. You are awake. Wonderful. Please, don't 
speak. I've been waiting for quite a while for your 
arrival, and I know exactly what I want to say. First, 
to answer your questions... I had you shaven so that I 
could enjoy you better. I dislike the texture of hair 
on a woman. Yes, even on her head... you have no need 
of it in any case, other than vanity, which is of no 
use to you now. Vanity is for women who wish to still 
attract a man; you will attract no one, because you 
belong to me now. You are mine, for my pleasure. Which 
brings me to the next thing, which you may not have 
noticed yet... please open your mouth."

Carol eyed Eric suspiciously, and considered jumping 
him to make her escape. Then she remembered her last 
meeting with him: his overpowering strength, the pain 
he could cause her, the powerlessness... fear crept 
into her stomach, replaced by a pervasive sickness as 
she opened her mouth and realized that her teeth were 
gone. Carol screamed. 

Leaping from the bed, she ran for the door, only to 
fall painfully on her face as Eric snagged the edge of 
her nightgown. She knew what would come next, and 
silently prepared herself for the awful weight of him 
on top of her. But, it didn't happen. Instead, he 
helped her to her feet. 

"Are you done being hysterical now? Carol, you said 
that you knew your place. You know that you are meant 
to serve me. I paid a lot of money to have you altered 
to serve me best," he said. 

Carol looked up at him with sad, watering eyes, her 
lips quivering with emotion, her toothless mouth 
sobbing, "Why, Eric? Why? Look at what you've made me! 
I'm hideous!"

Eric pulled his hand back and hit Carol full in the 
face, leaving an angry red welt forming on her cheek. 
"Nobody speaks that way about my woman." He said 
simply. "Not even you. You are beautiful to me, and 
that is all that matters. I'm going to take a lot of 
pleasure in you. Now, kneel and open your mouth." He 
said. "Or am I going to have to teach you what your 
place is?"

Carol shook with fear, and, bowing her head, she sank 
to her knees on the floor. Eric opened his robe and 
threw it aside, revealing a long, meaty cock that was 
slowly hardening. Carol hardly had time to observe it 
before he shoved it between her gums, stretching her 
jaw open painfully as he stuffed himself deep in her 
mouth, heedless of her gag reflex. 

He seemed amused as she heaved forward involuntarily, 
her body struggling to dislodge this massive intruder. 
He held her smoothly shaven head in both hands, 
refusing to let her get away, and forced himself into 
her throat. Eric sighed with satisfaction as he felt 
his cock become enveloped in the soft, warm embrace of 
Carol's toothless mouth. Yet as he looked down on her, 
tears streaming from her reddened eyes, his heart 
softened. He pulled himself out of her mouth for a 
moment, still holding her in place, his stiff, 
throbbing penis standing inches from her face.

"Carol, please don't cry. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I 
just got excited...you don't seem to understand, but 
you're just so sexy right now. Smooth and hairless, 
slim and regal, so perfectly suited to pleasuring 
me...you're my dream girl. You'll never have to work 
again. You're going to live here with me in paradise, 
and at what cost? Your teeth and your hair. You've no 
need for either anymore; you have a husband now, and he 
desires for you to be this way. Isn't that what you've 
always wanted?"

Carol looked up at him, still trembling, tasting her 
own salty tears as they leaked into her mouth. She 
nodded hesitantly. "I...I guess so. I don't know, this 
is just... it's all so different from what I thought it 
would be."

Eric reached down to caress her cheek, wiping the tears 
clean. "It's my fault... I was impatient with you. But 
please, don't cry. You're so beautiful when you smile. 
I'll tell you what: I'll take you to the spa for a full 
massage, then we'll have dinner, wherever you want.

"Really?" sniffled Carol, her eyes beginning to clear.

"Of course. If I said it, it must be so. After all, 
like you used to say in class, a man's word in his 
house is law, right?" said Eric, chuckling. Carol 
cracked a wide smile, showing her gums, and began to 
laugh. She started to rise from the floor, but felt 
Eric's hand pressing down on her shoulder, keeping her 
on the floor. She looked up at him quizzically. As if 
to answer her, he brushed her cheek with his cock, 
still wet and throbbing. Eric smiled.

"Ah, but first, we should finish what we were doing. 
Make sure you do a good job now. I want to feel you 
really trying to earn all that pampering." He said in a 
stern, but soft, tone. She hesitated only a moment 
before opening her mouth, her eyes looking up into his 
obediently. Eric smiled with true satisfaction, slowly 
guiding his manhood into her soft, waiting mouth. 

Carol rocked her head back and forth over his cock, 
cradling him with her tongue inside her mouth. She had 
given Eric blowjobs before, but it felt so different 
without teeth. The added tactile stimulation of his 
thickly veined cock against her bare gums felt 
so...strange. She wasn't really sure how to classify 
it, or if she liked it or hated it. Not that it 
mattered to Eric whether she liked it or not, she 
mused. 

She wanted to be done with this, to have some time to 
think, to enjoy the pleasures Eric had promised her. 
Reaching up with her hands, she began to fondle and 
massage his balls with her right hand, while her left 
reached around to lightly stroke his anus, and was 
rewarded with a rich, throaty moan of pleasure from 
Eric. She could taste his pre-cum leaking into her 
mouth, and her heart soared at the thought that this 
might soon be over. 

"Good girl, Carol," he said. "Now put your hands behind 
your back so I can finish."

Before she could even begin to comply, he gripped her 
smooth, bald head in both hands and thrust deep into 
her mouth, breaking through to her throat. She gagged 
again, coughing, and he pulled out for a moment to let 
her catch her breath, chiding her before he forced 
himself into her throat again. He would not be denied, 
and through a slow, torturous process of face-fucking, 
Eric trained Carol to deep-throat him. 

It seemed like an eternity to her, until at last she 
was able to withstand the full breadth of his manhood 
inside of her throat, and as soon as she could do it 
without gagging, Eric became more forceful. He would 
yank her head down onto his cock as he thrust forward, 
using her mouth like a pussy, fucking her soft, 
sensitive gums. His balls slapped against her chin 
rhythmically, and a steady stream of pre-cum and drool 
slid from the sides of her mouth with each thrust. 
Carol felt herself burn with shame at the thought of 
how she must look, drooling like a dog, bald and 
toothless, being used as a living sex toy. 

Then suddenly, he stopped thrusting, and held her 
close, filling her throat completely with his pulsing 
cockmeat as he came. Streams of hot, salty cum 
assaulted her throat, coating its walls and filling her 
mouth as he pulled out suddenly. He continued to 
ejaculate, covering her lips, cheeks, and breasts with 
thick ropes of cum, warming her bare skin. 

Eric looked at her expectantly, and Carol understood. 
She swallowed his cum with a satisfied gulp and leaned 
forward to lick him clean. His face relaxed, and he 
pulled on his robe and headed for the door. "Servants 
will arrive in a moment to cleanse and dress you. I 
shall return in 20 minutes to collect you for our 
little date." He said as he walked away, not bothering 
to look back. Carol sat there, motionless, her mind 
swirling with confusion, rage, and sadness as the full 
weight of her situation fell upon her.

To Be Continued?

Please let me know if you liked this story, or if I'm 
just a horrible creep for writing it. Thanks.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 47