There was a hurriedly-called town meeting at the junior high gym, to discuss what might be done about the maniac who was terrorizing the area, so I knew there was no one else at home. Very stupid or very trusting people. Also no near neighbors, so I went in through her bedroom window. The girl had stayed home from school that day with the flu and hadn't gone to the meeting with her family. Now she was sleeping on her back, only partly covered by a sheet, wearing a boy's old sport shirt.

A sweet face with wide, full lips. Most important, a long swanlike neck. A really lovely girl; she'd be a beauty if she grew up. I clamped a hand hard over her mouth. She woke instantly and began struggling in desperation. Then I showed her the .38, first a side-view so she'd know what it was, and then a view directly into the end of the barrel, an inch from her eye.

She wasn't stupid or naive; she knew already what I wanted and began to tremble. I made a 'silence' gesture with my trigger finger and smiled. She swallowed and nodded once, her blue eyes wide and terrified, and I took my hand away from her mouth.


I wrapped my fist around her pale blonde ponytail and yanked her to a sitting position. I could tell it hurt and I regretted that, but it kept her hands busy trying to hold onto her hair as she moved. I ripped the top sheet off the bed with my other hand. Then I motioned to her shirt. Her hands shook as she unbuttoned it and shrugged it off.

She was thirteen years old, just beginning to develop real breasts, but her nipples stood erect because of her fear. I've seen that before. She was a swimmer and her figure was trim and slender with no baby fat. A nice body for thirteen. I gripped her ponytail and yanked her flat on her back again; her shallow breasts jiggled and she cried out in pain. I pointed to her white cotton panties. She tried to shake her head but couldn't.

"Please . . . ," she whispered, and the tears trickled down the sides of her face. I brought the muzzle of the revolver to bear again and raised both eyebrows.

She shut her eyes tightly and pushed her panties down as far as she could reach, and I pulled them slowly off of her. She had long legs, slender and tanned like the rest of her, with long athletic muscles. Slender ankles and small feet, too. I was right; she really was a very pretty girl.

She was also a natural blonde. Her pubic hair was light and fine and the crevice below it was completely bare. I wondered if she was still a virgin. One could never tell these days, even with a girl her age. I spread her legs and motioned for her to bend and raise her knees so her genitals were open and exposed. I moved my hand from her ponytail to her throat and while she was dealing with that, I shoved the four-inch barrel of my gun into her.

swabbingShe jerked in terror and tried to cry out, but my hand on her windpipe allowed only a small, scratchy sound to escape. I withdrew the muzzle and noted the dark blood on the end. A small amount of blood was also trickling from between her legs.

I pulled her back up to a sitting position and then slapped her hard across the face five or six times, knocking her back on the bed in a half-conscious daze. I took the opportunity to set the revolver on the floor and flip her over on her stomach. The technique has proved useful. I pulled the already looped and knotted hemp cord from the pocket of my sweatsuit and quickly tied her wrists firmly to the posts at the foot of her bed. Her arms were stretched almost out of their sockets. Then I tied her ankles to the corners of the headboard, pulling the slip-knots tight. I satisfied myself that she couldn't move by plucking the cords like guitar strings. She was drawn but she hadn't been quartered yet.

I picked up the panties she had reluctantly removed, reached under her firm little bottom, and stuffed them into her to staunch the bleeding. She hung off the end of her bed facing the floor, her ponytail dangling down the side of her neck. She emerged from her daze and discovered her immobility. She tugged unsuccessfully at the cord and began to whimper again, but I was holding the gun.

I knelt on the floor and lifted her head by her hair so she could see my face. Then I spoke for the first time since entering her room.

"Darling, what we're going to do is have sex. You already know that, don't you?" She was unable to speak and I felt her feeble attempt to nod. "But we're not going to do it the way you probably think. You're bleeding, remember? No, we'll do it another way."

I let her head flop back as I stood and heard her teeth crack against the top of the wooden footboard. I dug into my other pocket and then pulled off my sweatsuit and moved around to the side of the bed. I set the revolver on the sheet, snug against her hip. Then I knelt between her trembling legs, uncapped the nearly empty tube of K-Y I had brought with me, and covered my middle finger with it. When I pushed the finger into her ass, her buttocks jerked and tightened, and she gasped with shock.

"Loosen up and this will be easier." I made a hook of my finger and lifted. She stifled a cry a
nd made an apparent effort to relax.

"That's better, now." I smeared more of the jelly on the head of my cock, which was now fully erect, and leaned forward, placing the tip against the brown ridges of her sphincter. I have found it's easiest to do this part quickly, so I took a breath and shoved hard. She cried out when the head popped into her and began sobbing when I thrust forward.

"No, please," she begged tearfully. "Please, don't! It hurts!" A nice touch, I had to admit.

Two more hard thrusts, and she was impaled to the hilt. A young girl's hole is always a snug fit, but this one's slender build seemed to include a particularly tight, particularly long rectal passage. Then, as I put my weight across her smooth, warm body, I felt a sudden wetness around my balls. She had lost control and peed in her bed. The aroma of a young girl's urine is heady and acrid -- probably something to do with puberty. I enjoyed the added effect.


I penetrated her again and again, increasing the tempo as her natural moisture improved the lubrication. She was sobbing loudly in syncopation with my movements and I reached under and cupped her little breasts in my hands, squeezing them hard and pinching her nipples. She wailed even louder.

"Keep making so much noise, and I might not ever stop."

She managed to smother her sobs and I let go of her breasts, raising myself up on my elbows in preparation for the completion of this phase. After a couple of minutes of increasingly forceful jabs, I climaxed, ejaculating into her intestines.

I rested atop her a moment to regain my breath, then pulled out of her ass. There were small flecks of brown around the head, as I knew there would be. As I backed up on my knees, I was careful to drag my balls through the aromatic puddle she had made.


I climbed off the bed and stretched my arms to get the kinks out, then checked the cords around her slender ankles. Her toes were turning blue. I licked the sole of her right foot and it twitched and her toes tried to curl, so she still had some feeling.

I went back to the foot of the bed, knelt, and lifted her ponytail. Her eyes were blue and red now from crying; not very attractive. One front tooth had broken on the footboard and a gash where she had bitten her lip dribbled blood down her chin. She should be more careful about her appearance. I gave her head a shake to get her attention.

"Now, what I'm going to do is put my cock in your mouth, and you're going to lick it and suck on it. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

She hesitated and then whispered "Yeth."

I knelt again before her face, naked this time. Her mouth was at just the right height. I reached under her body and pinched her nipple again, hard. She winced but made no sound; she was learning.

My cock was erect again and trembling. I pulled the rubber band off her hair so it scattered over her shoulders. I put down the .38 and gathered a fistful of hair at each temple, then raised her head and brushed her beautiful lips with the tip of my cock.

"Lick it, darling. And keep your eyes open." Her little red tongue came out and tentatively touched the underside of the head. She could smell and probably taste her own body on it.

"Show some enthusiasm, darling, or I'll hurt you. Really hurt you." Her eyes showed comprehension. She knew I meant it.

She began swabbing her tongue around the tip, licking it like a Tootsie Pop. I moved closer
and raised the angle so she could lick up and down the length of it. I lifted it still higher and she began licking my balls without prompting. For a beginner, she was pretty good. Or her fear overrode her natural nervousness. I've seen that before, too.

"You've never done this with a boy, have you? What's the farthest you've gone with a boy? Answer me, and tell the truth." She was weeping again.

"No, I haven't," she whimpered. "I let a boy feel my tits once, out in the field behind the school." A naughty girl, but I always preferred being the first. A young girl needs an experienced, older man her first time. But enough foreplay. I repositioned myself.

"Now we're going inside. Suck on the head and run your tongue around it." She took it in like a trooper and sucked like she knew her life depended on it. Her mouth was drying up, though. I withdrew myself and bent her head back against the nape of her slender neck.

"Open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue, darling. Stop crying now." She followed instructions and I spat a large wad of saliva into her mouth. She only gagged once.

"Don't swallow, now; you're going to need that." I lowered her head and pushed back into her mouth. She began sucking again. Much better. It was my spit, after all, and I knew where it had been.

"Very good. Now I'm going to fuck your face, darling -- and if you bite me, I will hurt you a great deal." I clenched my fists in her hair for emphasis and she whimpered again. I began to plunge in and out of her mouth, but she couldn't keep her teeth out of the way. Well, that wasn't really her fault. I shifted one hand to the top of her head and took a tighter grip on her hair. Then I hooked two fingers over her bottom teeth and held her lower jaw down. I began pushing my pulsating cock into the back of her mouth and then down her throat. She gagged in earnest and her breath, what little she could draw, whistled in and out of her nostrils. I felt the warmness stir my pubic hair.


I was becoming concerned that she might strangle before I could finish, but at least she hadn't thrown up. A few dry heaves was the most she could manage. That was another reason why late night was best: Most young girls had very little in their stomachs by that hour. And, of course, she hadn't eaten because of the flu.

Glancing at her hands, I saw that she had pulled so hard on the slip-knotted cords that several of her fingers were turning deep purple from lack of circulation. I could feel my orgasm rising and I rammed past her epiglottis as hard and as deep as I could. On the last lunge, I stretched her jaw a fraction lower and my balls bounced into her mouth as well.

I let go of her jaw then, because she already could hardly breath and now my hair was poking up her nostrils. She hadn't the strength or the presence of mind to bite me. I strained forward as I climaxed deep down her throat. Then I locked my fingers behind her head and pulled her face even tighter against my crotch. I jerked several times as I continu
ed to come and she jerked several times as her air disappeared.

I waited another two or three minutes until I felt her neck muscles go slack and her body sag. Then another minute, just to be sure. Finally, I extricated my genitals from her mouth. Her lower jaw remained open at an unusual angle. Probably unhinged on one side. No need to leave her like that.

I probed the back corner of her mandible with two fingers and found the spot, then gave the lower front of her jaw an openhanded blow that snapped it back into place. Her jaw was undoubtedly broken now, but it looked better.

I went into her bathroom and splashed water on my face and washed the residue off my genitals, and dried myself with one of her towels, and brushed my hair with her brush. I went back into her bedroom and put on my sweatsuit. Looking around, I remembered to pick up the tube of K-Y. Its smooth surface was an excellent place to leave prints. I knew fr
om experience that the coarse hemp cord wouldn't take prints so I left her tied. Anyway, I could see a few white wrist bones surrounded by chewed-looking flesh. The cord had tightened so far into her wrists and ankles, it would be impossible to remove it without taking some of her with it. All of her had to stay here, though.

I wasn't sure about the panties. Could that thin cotton fabric retain prints? I reached over and pulled the wad of bloody, urine-stained cloth from her vagina, and went back into the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet.

I paused again at the bedside and gently stroked the soft hairs on the curve of her neck, her tanned shoulderblades, down her spine to the small of her back, across her warm little bottom.

Yes, a lovely, lovely girl. But I could spare no more time for affection. I had to get back to the town meeting, so I could be seen to leave with my wife and everyone else when it brok
e up.

Then we would go home together and discover Carol's abused body and call the police.

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