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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
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Eye of the Beholder
by Peter_Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)

***

A distressing tale from the dark side. A clear warning 
as to WHY no young girl should ever accept a road-side 
lift. The risk totally outweighs the convenience. (Mf, 
ped, nc, rp, v, 1st)

***

AUTHOR'S WARNING: Very rarely the darker side of 
Peter_Pan emerges. "Two Cent Whore," "They Walk Among 
Us," "Hard Day in The Hot Sun," and the infamous "One 
Way Ticket To Hell" are examples of such.

Some readers may well find the content of this tale 
repellant in the extreme and are warned that if 
aggravated rape is not your thing, it might be best if 
you read something else. 

I am prepared for the inevitable flood of accusatory 
emails.

***

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER


Not thirty feet from the deserted highway the young 
girl kneels submissively in the dry scrubland, 
regretting for ever and a day that she had failed to 
heed her momma's advice – "Never accept a lift from 
strangers honey – but NEVER!" Just a few yards distant, 
a prairie dog, perhaps disturbed in its contemplations, 
eyes the threesome to the left of its burrow and having 
then no interest in proceedings, darts back into the 
safety of its tunneled conclave.

There is but a light breeze in evidence, whose 
gentility offers the girl the least assistance. No 
cries will be borne on the wind this night. The looming 
darkness befriends only the girl's captors, leading one 
to assume that Nature even has turned its back on the 
three-act tragedy about to be played out in its midst.

The older man eyeing his prey, circles her as if 
assessing his options. The youth, slim and dressed also 
in tattered jeans and checkered shirt, stands across 
from the girl, near a patch of tumbleweed, his eyes 
quite obviously taking in the gentle convexity of her 
developing breasts and the curves of her rear-end, 
subtly delineated as they are in the fading light. He 
is able to detect the outline of the girl's underwear 
even, as she kneels there shivering, both hands 
extended towards the older man as if in supplication. 

He has often watched through the keyhole of the master 
bedroom at home as his father, having dragged his 
younger sister across his knee, paddles her backside 
unmercifully, pausing simply to tug her dress up and 
her panties down, before resuming his bruising work on 
her bare bottom. Becky would scream at first but 
ultimately dissolve into heaving sobs as the 
inevitability of her predicament suppressed all hopes 
of salvation.

He wonders if his father might indulge those corporal 
cravings later with the terrified girl kneeling in 
front of him?

Crouching beside his teenage captive, the man extends a 
gnarled hand and gropes the girl's tremulous right 
breast.

"Well lookee here boy," he growls in the direction of 
his son, "Thisn's almost ripe fer the pickin'"

Gasping with shame and embarrassment, she pushes the 
man's hand away, only to be rewarded with a vicious 
backhander that sends her sprawling in the dust. Off-
balance and uncoordinated momentarily, her legs splay 
apart, delivering her voyeur an acutely indecent view 
of those plain white cotton panties. The upskirt 
visuals are not lost on the big man who chuckles at the 
girl's predicament before crudely delving between her 
legs and taking delight in making illicit contact with 
the front of her knickers. The curved ingress and the 
smoothness beneath his fingers excites him. He thinks 
of Becky and how she might look, thus disheveled and 
prostrate before him. His son takes in the decadent 
scene but a couple of arms-lengths away. His father 
frightens him.

Wriggling clear of her tormentor, the girl tugs the hem 
of her dress down, limiting the arousal factor and sits 
there breathing heavily, tears now trickling down both 
cheeks. Remorse is not a trait the older man has ever 
exhibited and taking a step towards her, he is able to 
see now quite clearly the curves of her young breasts 
as she hugs her knees almost in defiance of his 
unspoken intent. Aware that her cleavage, though still 
a gentle work-in-progress, is prominently displayed to 
the grinning degenerate leaning over her, she frees up 
her right hand to clasp the top of her dress to her 
chest. It is as fruitless a gesture as it is one borne 
of desperation.

"Please don't hurt me." she whimpers. As well may she 
have asked for a latte coffee with extra cream, given 
the likelihood of her plea falling on compassionate 
ears. 

Wrenching her arm aside as if it were an annoying twig, 
the man shoves his hand down her top, encircling the 
small breast and feeling the rush attendant on such 
under-age sexual fumbling. The girl cries-out in 
shocked surprise, her disbelieving mouth dropping open 
as she stares downwards, following the hand as it moves 
to her right bra cup roughly manipulating her small 
nipple. She winces as the pressure increases on the 
teat, aware inherently that resistance is useless at 
this juncture.

"Nuthin' quite like a pair of sweet young titties son," 
the ogre all but drools in the boy's direction. "Come 
get a handful," he grins lewdly, both hands rifling now 
the contents of the girl's skimpy crossover. The boy 
makes no move, almost rendered immobile by the 
unfolding scene. The man shrugs and turns his attention 
back to the girl's chest.

Without warning, he pushes her backwards and taking a 
firm hold of the halter around her upper chest, rips 
the material with such savagery, the dress tears all 
the way to her waist. Fully visible in the now clear 
moonlight, her barely-covered breasts heave with 
distress, bra straps loosely clinging to her arms. 
Further down, her slim hips and belly are exposed in 
all their youthful vulnerability. The waistband of the 
girl's panties becomes the focal point for her 
attacker's lustful contemplation.

"Ain't no point lookin' like Raggedy Ann sweetness," he 
drawls, seizing hold of the last vestiges of her dress 
which he then strips away in seconds, heedless of her 
cries for him to stop. She lies there in miserable 
solitude, aware only too well of the effect her near-
naked body must inevitably induce in her male captors. 
Indeed, watching the girl's futile attempts to cover 
her bra and crotch area with those sadly undersize 
hands and arms, has already set in motion physiological 
changes in the boy's procreational hardware. She can 
already see plainly the sexual metamorphisis underway 
beneath the ogre's shabby Levis. 

The man produces a hunting knife that glints in the 
moonlight. The boy swallows hard and stares at his 
father. This was something way outside the plan. Not 
for the first time – he feels a rising unease. 
Trembling with unutterable fear she stares wide-eyed as 
the blade of the knife descends, hastily slicing 
through the material holding the front of her bra 
together. 

"What's the problem girlie?" he guffaws "Figured I was 
gonna cut ya?" he slips the knife back into his belt.

"No way Jose," he grins, "Wouldn't wanna hurt a cute 
little teen queen like you sweets. Way too precious to 
hurt – leastways with a knife." Smirking at his own 
double entendre, he reaches down and plucks away the 
shredded bra. She lays there shivering beneath the cool 
night sky, clad now in just her panties, hands barely 
covering her exposed breasts. 

Observing the knife re-sheathed, the boy lets out a 
sigh of relief.

Expecting the worst as the big man kneels beside her, 
she is unprepared for what follows. In one movement he 
seizes her arm and pulls her half upright. Still trying 
to cover her breasts, she finds herself suddenly 
prostrate across the man's knee – face down and 
helpless. The huge arm around her waist restricts all 
movement.

"Even a pretty little thing like you needs a whuppin' 
once in a while girlie," he mutters, delivering a hard 
smack to her upturned bottom. She cannot avoid a cry of 
pain and surprise. The second blow ripples the soft 
flesh. Even at the distance he is, the boy can see her 
taut little rear-end recoil from the assault. The next 
spank echoes across the highway but is heard by no more 
than the prairie dog and its immediate family. The 
man's eyed are glued to the young girl's panties. How 
like Becky she is! Those same damnably sexy little 
hips, curvy bottom and who knows what else skulking 
away there between her legs? Becky's secrets had yet to 
be enjoyed to the max but tonight he would know true 
solace. He raises his hand a fourth time.

Seeing the girl's breasts jiggling free - pretty much 
in the dust, as she vainly uses her hands to try 
shielding her bottom from the punishing blows, fully 
re-boots the boy's chemical resurgence. The swollen rod 
between his legs is almost painful.

Crying hysterically, the girl pleads for a cessation to 
the beating. Were she to realize this was merely 
supplementing his enjoyment of the situation she might 
try another tack. Frenzied now, the man takes a hold of 
her waistband and tugs the panties lower. Leaving them 
at half-mast temporarily, he stares at her partially 
exposed bottom, the color of those gentle contours 
anything but a whiter shade of pale. 

Reaching beneath her arm he takes a rough hold of 
either breast, squeezing and rubbing the girl's 
nipples, unfettered lust feeding off the sensation. His 
right hand smooths its way back and forth across her 
bottom, fingers inching their way along that sexiest of 
clefts before disappearing beneath her panties en route 
to the shadow-lands. He has forgotten his son across 
the way, all that matters is this one hundred pounds of 
ultimately desirable female flesh splayed across his 
lap. He has to see her naked. Hooking then, his fingers 
inside the already lowered waistband, he tugs the young 
girl's one remaining bastion of modesty down her legs 
and past her ankles, propelling the handful of cotton 
just an arm's length from where his son squats 
alongside the tall cactus, watching proceedings almost 
nonchalantly.

Totally nude before her kidnappers, the girl's 
humiliation is complete. A further hard spank elicits a 
cry of pain. She makes no attempt to cover her bottom 
or breasts now, her arms simply resting in the dirt as 
she sobs aloud her resigned acceptance of the 
punishment at hand.

Eyes riveted now on the glowing rear of his prey, the 
man spreads the girl's legs, giving his impetuous 
fingers access to the Holy Grail of illicit pleasures. 
His middle finger travelling ever south, discovers a 
cache of soft downy hair that even six months ago had 
yet to make its debut. Further inland, the natural 
curvature of nature's best loved secret, leads that 
same finger to moist lips as soft as petals. With less 
finesse than a jack-rabbit on heat, the man pushes 
inwards with committed vigor. 

"Don't...please don't," she cries, "That HURTS....Let 
me go PLEASE – I promise I won't tell anyone."

Clemency is not an option on the menu this night.

Beginning now to push their uninvited way into her 
vaginal ante-chamber, the man's fingers begin to 
penetrate her faster and deeper. Sobbing in real-time 
pain, she wriggles about on his lap, an action the ogre 
mistakes for complicit pleasure. She barely notices her 
breasts being groped concurrently, which could not be 
said for the youth nearby who transfixed by the girl's 
aggravated sexual degradation at the hands of his 
father, is whacking himself off with undiluted zeal. 

Past the point of being in even vague control of his 
emotions, the man sends the naked girl sprawling in the 
dust and kneeling before her, hastily unzips his jeans. 
Lying on her back, the girl not only catches this 
worrying turn of events, she also is privy to that 
which has disengaged itself from the mother-ship. 
Unfamiliar with penis-size per se, all she knows for 
sure is that the man's "thing" is huge and logically 
nothing that size could possibly fit into the tight 
little receptacle she possesses between her own legs 
and which the man is now obviously staring at with what 
one might term bemused interest. Swiftly she closes up 
her thighs. 

"Ain't gonna do ya much good honey," the man leers, 
crouching in front of her now in the gentle moonlight. 
Despite her struggles, he forces her pale limbs apart. 
Unable to defer the inevitable, the girl stares with 
uncomprehending shock as, working his way between her 
legs, the ogre pilots his nuclear warhead towards her 
fragile-looking vaginal gateway.

Sadly, the girl's initial assessment was ball-park 
accurate. A square peg never did fit in a round hole 
and a nine-inch penis of abnormally thick girth does 
not exactly dove-tail with a slim-line pussy of 
uncompromisingly virginal status. Even as her cries 
rent the airwaves just off Interstate 76, the younger 
of her two captors is suddenly wracked with guilt. 
Neither of the two girls they had picked up before had 
screamed like this. He gets to his feet and takes a 
step towards the moving violation. 

Even at that distance he can see the girl's blood 
trickling down the inside of her thigh. His father is a 
man possessed, thrusting into that helpless body even 
as she whimpers and begs for him to stop. Quite 
obviously approaching his own finality, the man tries 
to kiss his victim, who by averting her mouth at the 
last moment, infuriates the copulating demon topside. 
He responds with a snarl and savage blow to her left 
cheek that almost renders her senseless.

"Fucking little slut," he roars. "You'll remember this 
night girlie – I'll see to it." 

Abusing her breasts so severely now she begins moaning 
with pain, he thrusts ever harder into her. The girl 
lies there beneath him, almost inert.

"Dad, that's ENOUGH," the boy yells out. "You're 
hurting her badly." His own erection has fully 
subsided.

"You'll keep your mouth shut boy if you know what's 
good for you," the aggressor spits-out in the direction 
of the lad, incensed by what he regards as 
insubordination amongst the ranks. He begins to rape 
the girl even more violently, biting her nipples in the 
process, forcing her legs even wider. The girl's 
screams have diminished to little more than enforced 
grunts as her body is crushed beneath the man's 
overpowering weight. Her arms remain above her head, 
jerking rhythmically in time to the man's violent 
penetrative incursions.

Taking a step nearer, the boy is horrified to see the 
bruising coming out now in her right cheek. The blood 
seeping out of her is considerable. Her expression - 
heartbreaking in the extreme. Right then with a roar of 
pleasured extravagance, the man floods her internally 
with his unwanted semen. 

"Little cunt," he mumbles almost incoherently. "Gonna 
give her something to REALLY remember the evening by." 
So saying, he begins to turn the abused girl over on to 
her stomach. There is time however for the boy to catch 
a glimpse of his father's semen leaking profusely from 
her swollen and bloody vagina. He begins to maneuver 
the moaning girl on to all fours, his intentions clear 
enough to any on-looker. Horrified even at this late 
stage for the girl's well-being, he tries to pull his 
father away but is rewarded by a punch to his mid-
section that sends him sprawling in agony. 

When the pain subsides and he is able to focus 
normally, the sight that meets his gaze appalls him. 
The girl is kneeling there some eight feet away, down 
on her forearms, her bottom elevated indecently. She is 
screaming out for help as the man, gripping her tightly 
around the waist, sodomises her without mercy. It is 
not something the boy can live with.

The girl cannot believe the agony. She is being torn 
apart and cauterized by a white-hot metal pipe in an 
area that no young girl can possibly conceive might 
ever be at risk in normal society. The rape was 
unspeakably painful and aside even from the facial and 
chest bruising, breathing itself has now become a hard-
fought campaign. She braces herself for the next thrust 
– but none comes.

She hears a dull thud and an exhalation much like 
"Uggghh." Something feels like it's dripping 
momentarily on her bottom and back of her thigh. More 
relevantly, the instrument of torture is withdrawn from 
her back passage just seconds before the man topples 
over alongside her. The majority of his forehead is now 
hanging from his scalp like a half-eaten pizza. She 
turns around painfully and glances behind her. The boy 
is still holding the huge rock in both hands.

"I'm so sorry Miss," he whispers, "SO sorry!"

Somewhere in the foothills, a coyote howls.

(c) Peter_Pan 2007

Please visit "The World of Peter_Pan" website:
http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/index.html

Available also now in paperback:

"The Best of Peter_Pan" 
http://www.lulu.com/content/679070

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a 
fellow convict in their local prison.
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