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Author's infos Gender: Female Age: 20 Location: Brazil |
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| Introduction: He will avenge his brother... I'll suffer the consequences. | ||
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Sorry for my poor Grammar and for any error, it's really hard for me to write in english. Comments are appreciated. If someone likes it just say and I'll keep writing. --- I always knew what I wanted for my life. I wanted an easy life. Marry some rich guy who would fulfill my wishes and do whatever I wanted for the rest of my life. It would be really simple to obtain, looking good as I knew I did. People used to compare me with Candice Swanepoel, one of Victoria’s Secret angels, all the time and I really do look like her, a tall blue-eyed blonde with a tight body, we even shared the same 34B bra-size, but I'm not that skinny and not that tall, but taller than half girls I knew, I was 5'7", a lot of it in my long shapely and toned legs. Being always with high-society people, thanks to my mother's connections - she was an attorney kinda famous - I shouldn't have problems making a life. But it is never that easy, isn't it? My mother died from cancer a couple months after I turn eighteen, what left me sharing her possessions with her second husband, Alan, the douche, as I used to call him. He had his own company and I couldn't understand why he was accepting his share of my mom's belongings. Soon after I discovered his intentions, he didn't wanted to be alone. He was obliging me to share the house my mother built with him. So, I was rushing to find that fucking rich husband. But it is never that bad, isn't it? One day when I was coming home after school I just came across a drunken Alan fallen by the pool, a bottle of bourbon in a hand and an open cellphone in the other. I called him a dozen times but he didn't woke up. So an idea came to mind, and I couldn't help myself from accomplishing it. "So, that's it you bastard!" And I pushed him into the pool. Turned out he just stood underwater. Initially I freaked out, but seconds later I saw it as a really great chance of getting rid of him. I could inherit all my mother's possessions, as it should be, and his too. Maybe I didn't need a rich husband after all. So as soon as I saw no more bubbles coming from him I was sure he was dead. That was the end of Alan, the douche. It worked like a charm. In a couple months I was living like a queen, alone in my own home with all that money. In a matter of three more months I would graduate from school and leave country. Maybe live in Europe with no manipulative overprotective mother and no douchebag to share my money should be great for me. But it is never that easy, isn't? At the end of the third month I went to answer the door. Alex, Alan's brother, came visit me unannounced. I remembered him from my mother's and Alan's funeral. He was the one in a notorious black uniform of the army, as I remember he was some kind of retired special forces. A really big and frightening bald guy who asked me to sit in my own table to "a little chat" as he said. We sat and he begun talking with that freaking hoarse voice. "So, Rebecca, I came to have a really serious conversation with you" He said. "I'm all ears" I was really uncomfortable in his presence, always giving me weird glances, even he being bigger, bulkier and having a somewhat rigid but more handsome face than Alan. "I have something to show you. I don't want you to feel weird or something, but I have to show you" And as I nodded he took his mobile, pressed a few buttons and put it on the table. Soon the speakers started to clearly sound Alan's voice. "Brother... My big older brother... I love you, you know? I'm all alone right now. Becky hates me and wants to go live her life and I'm gonna let her... I'm all alone, bro... why Camille had to die? Why?..." Alan said with that obviously drunk voice. I started shivering and feeling really emotional. I had killed that guy, that sad lonely guy. "Don't start crying yet, there's more" Alex said completely impassive. But Alan wasn't talking anymore. The phone went dead for about three minutes, then I could hear my own voice calling him. I was in shock. Tears were still rolling down my face while my eyes were fixed in the man in front of me, while I heard my own voice say "So, that's it you bastard!" and then the sound of his body hitting the water. Even the puff when I was doing strength to throw him in the water was recorded. A billion things were passing through my head when he begun talking again. "I think that's an undeniable proof that you, miss, killed my brother" He said still looking at me cold and static as he was at the beginning. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "I'm not going to hand you over to the police, if this is what you're asking" He replied, then stood up, still looking at me with that sharp green eyes. "That's completely up to you". "What do you mean? You let me decide if I'm going to jail or not?" I asked, feeling like a giant ice stone was growing in my stomach. "Pretty much it. I'll keep coming here, trying to convince you to turn yourself in. I love to test the will of others. If yours are great enough I'll let you free, but not until I get really tired of you" he said approaching. I kept staring at him scared as hell while he said "Get up and put your hands on that table" He said pointing to the lower table next to the flat screen. I just stood in shock. It couldn't be happening. It couldn't. "That's your answer? Am I supposed to take this recording to the police?" He said, shaking the cellphone in the air. I just couldn't imagine myself in jail, losing my life that way. So I stood up and walked to the table, leaning forward until the palms of my hands touched the small table. Wearing a light and short lacy yellow dress a big part of my ass was exposed. He came behind me with long and slow steps and stood still during a moment, wich felt like eternity to me, that was broken with the feeling of that rough hand massaging my right butt cheek. My immediate reaction was trying to take it off, but soon as I took my hand off the table he yelled at me "Put you hand back on the table!" and I obeyed immediately and he passed to my toned legs, caricing my inner thighs while I gasped trying to hold myself still. So I understood. I was really going to be raped and I had nothing to do to prevent it. I begun crying uncontrollably covering the table with tears, but it meant nothing to him, and his next move was to start fiddling with his fingers in my vagina over my panties, then he pulled it aside. I heard the zipper opening, he aggressively grabbed me by the waist and soon I felt his cock thrusting hard against my dry pussy. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" I started screaming, I felt like he was stabbing me. I was kinda new to sex, had it just four times in my entire life thanks to those catholic schools and my over-controlling mother. He thrusted fiercely four times before getting into my tiny slit, then humped me two times like I was a piece of meat, I groaned and cried hard as he did it, than took his dick out of me. Then I heard him spitting, probably in his hand, and I felt the stinging pain of him entering me again with a single thrust. But this time I could feel it entering me completely, and he kept fucking me with that huge thing during various minutes. He was a lot bigger than any guy I've ever had sex with. Every inch of the tender flesh of pussy was pressing against his invader member, and he moved in and out so rough and so hard that I felt like my insides were on fire. Like I was being torn apart. My breasts swinging at the same aggressive rhythm he was ravaging me. "Argh... No-please... Stop pleaaase! P-Pleeeeease!" I tried to look at him with my teary blue eyes, try to beg for mercy, but he was beating his waist so strong against my buttocks that I wasn't able to do it. My body was betraying me, or trying to ease its torture, because my pussy was getting gradually wet and the wetter I got, the deeper he could sink into me. I could feel the head of his penis hitting against the entrance to my womb. Smashing against my cervix, causing agonizing pain, making me tremble even worst each beat. Then he increased his rhythm until I think he was going to rip me apart, grabbed me by the neck, surrounding his arms and pressing me against him, still humping me fiercely. I could feel his warm breath next my left ear and his sweat dripping down my neck. "Ooooooooouch! Aaaarghh! No-No-NO!" I cried as he bent over me, all our weight in my stomach, being scraped by the edge of the table every time he humped me against it. So while I was gasping for air and coughing, feeling my throat aching and that agonizing feeling that my insides were full of something that was hurting me more each second, I felt he tremble and explode inside me in three last gushing thrusts. His dick slipped out of my sore pussy when he lifted me by the neck, lots of cum poured from my vandalized slit, running down my legs. "I'll come here every single day until I get completely tired of you. If you endure until the last day, I'm going to set you free. But don't expect any mercy from me, this was just the beginning. I'm stopping now cause, to my surprise, I discovered that you were just a killer, not a whore. Consider it a gift for being so tight. But in no time you will wish you were in jail, believe me." ... I kept curled and trembling in the carpet for hours after he was gone. The day light was already fading when I managed to reunited strength to unfold my panties over my pussy, starting crying uncontrollably again when my fingers touched some of the slimy ooze that was still covering a huge part of my crotch. The path to the bathroom was a martyrdom. Only walking was motive to an incredible discomfort and my belly was hurting badly. When I passed the toilet's door I couldn't look myself at the mirror. No way I could bear the vision of a deflowered and abused version of me. Taking a bath took another couple hours. I cried when I saw my belly filled with thick red marks. No matter how much I scrubbed myself I still felt like I was completely filthy, like my entire body was smelling of him. I did everything I could to feel clean, but I couldn't. I couldn't sleep either. Torturous thoughts permeated my night. That recording made me regret my decision to let Alan die, not only cause I was discovered, but his death itself. I'd never seen his human side, apart from the acts he played in front of my mother, but now... I really am a murderer. A cold blood killer. His brother was coming to get me the next day for sure and just the thinking about it made me scream in the middle of the night, alone in this big house I wanted for myself and now would be my personal torture place. A tiny piece of me felt like I deserved it, the huge part of me, the abused one who was in pain, felt like I didn't. The only nap I gave was interrupted by his warm breath in my ears, in a nightmare. In the morning I couldn't go to school, obviously. Couldn't eat any breakfast as well. More than ten friends called me at my cellphone and I didn't answer. So at 2 pm I heard the doorbell. I hugged myself fiercely, shivering, and couldn't move to answer it. But his voice came from the door. "You know what's my next stop after here if I can't get in, right?" He said really loud. The house was built in a low price terrain, that thanks to the construction of a great condo in the surroundings got really expensive in short time, so I had no neighbors, except the condominium almost half mile away. I had to answer the door or he would hand me over to the police. For a moment I thought of being arrested as a less torturous thing than what was supposed to happen in the days to come, but I was already raped once, I had killed a man, just to end up in jail?... I had to find a way to make him get tired of me or get rid of him. When I opened the door just look at him almost made me shriek. That enormous bald man, with those cold green eyes and his rigid face, wearing a leather jacket and military pants and boots, waiting for me with the hands in his pockets. I opened the door and walked away as fast as possible. He just followed me inside and looked at me like he was surprised about something. "Good to see you didn't committed suicide. You were pretty devastated when I left you yesterday. Good to know that it wasn't too much for you" He said with a shadow in his face that resembled a sarcastic smile attempt. I just kept hugging myself at the corner of the room, looking to the ground, trembling to the bones. "What the hell happened to the gorgeous girl I had the pleasure to use yesterday? You have thirty minutes to shower, put some clothes and makeup. I'll wait for you here. Don't get too long." He said while walking to the sofa and turned on the flat screen while I struggled to follow his order and get myself ready for him. I was still in my pajamas. I didn't eat or did any other thing since last night, neither sleep. I couldn't help myself from crying while looking myself at the mirror to put some makeup, who insisted in run down my face with my tears, making two black stripes below my eyes. When I saw Alan's razor in the bathroom what Alex said about suicide came to mind, but I did like myself too much and was too coward to do something like that. Think about using it against him turned into bullshit too. The man weighed three times more than me and was a military bastard. He could do terrible things to me if I failed or simply kill me. Stupid idea. No more than thirty minutes I was returning to the living room, hair brushed, makeup done, and dressed in a shirt, jeans and a sandal.. When I arrived he immediately turned off the TV and begun glaring at me. "Good. Very good. You'll suffer a lot less if you always obey me strictly like that." He said while I kept myself at the corner of the room, trying not to start crying again. "But I do prefer you in a light dress like yesterday. Put one. And I want you without panties" He said and I just started sobbing again while heading to my room, where I took off all my clothes, put a soft and short green spaghetti strap dress, that make my breasts look even perkier, feeling the air reaching my intimate parts while I was heading back, trying to recompose myself. "That's it. That's the way I want you. Good girl" He said getting up and stopping at the center of the living room. "Come on. Put your hands in the same table." I felt shivers down my spine just looking at him. "Are you going to make me repeat myself? That's not good for you" He said and I rushed, practically stumbling in the table. "Put your hands..." He started saying and I breathed slowly then leaned forward, instantly feeling my dress lifting and my butt becoming exposed. I heard he unzipping his pants again and couldn't handle it "P-please n-no... Pleas-se don't f-fuck me..." I said sobbing. "Listen..." He started saying while massaging my right silky butt cheek with his raspy hand "...You have two choices here. I'll fuck your pussy or this tiny pink asshole of yours" He said while spreading my butt cheeks with his thumbs to have a clear shot at my pristine asshole. "N-no! Not my ass! Pleas-se don't!" I cried. My ass was completely virgin. Just thinking about anal sex scared the hell out of me. "So it'll be your pussy. Beg me to fuck your pussy" He said leaving my butt, but using his thumbs to put the petals of my pussy apart and accommodating the spit wet head of his penis in my sore red entrance. The table was getting covered of my tears again. "Don't let me waiting, unless you want me to do worst things with you". "P-P-Please..." I was crying uncontrollably. I was about to beg a man to rape me. "P-Please fu-fuck my p-pussy..." And subtly I felt he stuffing me again with a single stinging thrust, that make me wince and shriek in pain and discomfort "Uuuuuuggh". He groaned satisfied and kept humping me fiercely while I was confronting the worst moment of my whole life. He was ravaging my already sore pussy, my twisted voice echoing though the empty house in desperate cries. I was making all the strength I could to not let my belly scrape at the ledge of the table again but he was doing me so rough that my arms were starting to ache. But subtly he stopped while still fully inside me. With no warning he just wrapped me in his arms, grabbing hard my breasts and lifted me. He carried me and leaned me in the arm of the sofa, my feet touching the floor, leaving my torso resting in the cushion and my ass up to the air. Then he stuffed himself completely inside my pussy again, deeper than ever "Uuugh... Noooooo!". He kept going in and out with slow, long and hard thrusts, always pushing as deep as he could, like he had discovered that pressing strongly against the entrance to my womb was making me feel something like the worst menstrual cramps of my life. "Uuuurrrrgh-Oh my G-Uuuuuuugh..." It was hard to believe that it was really happening, that someone was really torturing my insides like that. But thanks to any luck, or so I thought, he humped me three more times and came, like the fact that my screaming and me reacting harder than ever stimulated him to that point. He rose, withdrew his now soft member and left me to rest during a feel moments, until I felt his hands making my butt cheeks spread. I didn't have time to be apprehensive, he slipped his index finger in my pussy, moistened it, and shoved it in my anus. "Aaarrgh! Nooooo!" The new pain was shocking. I squealed while trying to escape through the sofá, kicking his tights and I was able to get free. I felt the relief of taking his finger out of me. But he rushed around the sofa and grabbed me by the hair, my long blonde hair, and before I could say anything or do anything to defend myself, he punched me. His knuckles stroke the right side of my belly, few inches from my ribs. "Uuuuurrrrrrgh..." The sudden blow beamed an unbelievable wave of pain. I lost completely the strength to keep myself standing. He kept me up holding me by the hair when my knees weakened. He lifted me, hanging my face in front of his own "That was your liver" and threw me back to the sofa, while I was coughing and sobbing in agony, he pulled my legs off the sofa, leaving me bent over my stomach in the couch's arm again. "I'll not tolerate any kind of reaction again. Next time I'll break your teeth" then stuffed two fingers in my sore pussy, like I was a squirming pot of lub, and, with no delay, shoved them in my ass. "Aaaaaauuuurrrrrrgh..." I cried muffled, still curled with my hands in my belly, my face buried in the couch, while those thick fingers assaulted my virgin ass. "Uugh...Uuuh...Uuuh...(sob)...Oouch..." I continued groaning with my face against the leather of the sofa, wet by my tears, every time he stuck those two or three fingers in and out of me. It felt like he was ripping me open, like he was overcoming the limits of my body. I was so immersed in the pain that I started to contract myself, clenching even my feet fingers, bending my knees, but I quit fighting against him. It was useless. Two minutes passed. Two minutes that felt like an eternity he played with me like a squirming toy, until he withdrew his fingers . "Good girl" He rose and slapped my right butt cheek "Tomorrow I'll be here at 7AM to get you ready for school. You have to stop skipping. Go get some rest. We'll have a full day tomorrow". I turned, sitting in the couch and looking at him with eyes wide open in astonishment "W-What!?" To be continued… |
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