Rape Toy



 
Rape Toy:
BDSM Stories
2010-03-05
A young girl finds out the hard way that she isn't just one of the boys
any more.

Maybe it was because I was such an incredible tomboy.
I was kind of old to be a tomboy, according to some, but I just
sort of felt like doing boy things, well, guy things by then.
I'd always had short hair. I'd let it grow a little longer, to
collar length anyway, when I'd hit puberty, but it was still shorter
than most girls who weren't lesbians wore theirs.
Some people hinted that maybe I was a lesbian, because I was so
into sports and stuff, and acted like a guy, but I didn't think I was. I
mean, I just wasn't into sex, really. The thought of having sex with a
girl didn't turn me on, and neither did the thought of doing it with a guy.
The thought of either was excruciatingly embarrassing, to be
honest. Because I'd tried for so many years to make myself one of the
guys it embarrassed me for anyone to point out how different I now was
from them. So being naked in front of one would be unthinkable.
As for the girls, well, while I loathed them in some ways I also
felt kind of inferior to them. I mean, they knew their part in life and
they did it right. They were girls, they looked like girls, they acted
like girls were supposed to, they knew about makeup and fashion and
stuff. And I didn't.
See, I'd always thought of girls as silly. They did silly things,
and were such crybabies. I didn't want to be like that. I liked being
tough. Like a boy, you know?
Girls were soft and weak, and played with dolls and whined all the
time if you just hit them a little. Then, even when they got older they
acted dumb, exchanging dolls for makeup and clothes and boys.
I hated the way girls acted around guys. I mean, it made me
embarrassed to be a girl to see these simpering idiotic girls fluttering
their false eyelashes and giggling stupidly around the guys I hung
around with.
There was no way I would act like that, even if I knew how, which I
didn't.
I admit that, well I was getting these thoughts, not about sex,
really but about, well, clothes and... making myself look pretty, even
sexy. But I kept shoving them away.
As time passed, though, it got harder, especially since the guys
kept pointing out just how girlish I was, at least physically. I had a
sweet, round face with full, soft lips, a lithe, athletic, but quite
female body, with high-riding, round, extremely firm breasts, and a
great pair of legs.
I knew this because...well, the guys pointed it out and...well, I
looked at myself... sometimes... in the mirror at home. I'd look at my
girl’’s body, cup and lift my breasts a little, partly proud, partly
embarrassed by them, and I'd realize there was no way I could pass as a
boy any more.
But I kept acting like one... mostly.
I played lots of sports, including pickup games of basketball,
soccer and even football with the guys, hung around with them at the
corner store, and at local hangouts, including their houses, and sniffed
contemptuously at frilly girl things.
It was in one of those houses that I discovered the... the
infatuation I had with... with well, what some call bondage, though it
was more than that.
I was there with Mark Spencer, Paul Connors, and Jason Lorne.
It was a finished basement. Jason lived there. He had a stereo, TV,
etc, the usually stuff of a suburban teenager. Not much furniture,
though, like no sofa or anything. So we mostly sat on his bed while we
were bullshitting or watching TV or whatever. We’’d been doing it since
junior high, but now that we were seniors we figured we were all very
cool, and would drink whatever beer we could get, and smoke a few tokes
while we enjoyed our last year together before college, jobs, or whatever.
Jason had gotten out his father's camcorder, and we were making
dumb faces for it. Paul, who'd had a few beers, turned and bent over and
smacked his ass for Jason while me and the others laughed.
Then Mark bent over and pulled his pants down and mooned the camera
briefly.
Jason turned the camera on me then.
"Let's see your ass, Jessie," he said.
"Fuck you," I said.
"Nah, we wanna see your ass," Mark laughed.
"I'd rather see her tits," Paul said.
I punched him and he yelped, and we wrestled.
He got me bent over and slapped my ass, but I wriggled away, then
grabbed his balls. He yelped and twisted around behind me, then got his
arms under mine and yanked them up and back, linking his fingers behind
my head and pinning me in a half-nelson.
He made me say ““give””, and then let me go.
That was all there was too it, really, except that Jason then put
the tape in his VCR and played it. We laughed at things we'd done. But
then it came to where Paul had been wrestling me, and when it showed me
bent over, and him holding me, and the camera zoomed in on my ass, the
others hooted and laughed, but I felt a little... tingly - down there.
And then when it showed him pinning me like he did, with my chest
thrust out so hard and my head back, I thought to myself that I looked
incredibly sexy and erotic like that. My breasts had really pushed out
hard against the T-shirt I wore, and there was sure no mistaking me for
a guy.
I wasn't sure why it looked so erotic. I knew they guys thought my
boobs looked great like that. I remembered how helpless I'd felt at the
time, but I hadn't put that together with anything really sexual until
seeing myself on the TV.
I loved to read adventure stories. And in them the girl was always
the helpless victim, tied up and held captive by the evil criminal.
There hadn't been any sexual abuse in those stories but it was always in
the air when the female victim was tied up.
And now, well the thought of being bound helpless, my breasts
sticking out, for some reason that kind of... turned me on.
I didn't really understand those feelings. But I did get into more
wrestling matches with the guys after that. I had been avoiding
wrestling matches for a couple of years because the guys were now
stronger than me, and because sometimes they'd take the opportunity to
cop a feel.
But now I wanted them to do that, though maybe I didn't quite know
it, or at least, didn't quite admit it to myself.
But I couldn't deny the incredible heat I felt when one or another
of the guys would pin me to the ground and sit atop me, his knees or
hands on my wrists holding them down above me.
And sometimes when we wrestled I could feel their hard-on pressing
against me, and I knew what they wanted to do to me. And that made me
hot too. Not that the thought of them fucking me, but the thought that
they wanted to hold me down and force themselves into me.
I knew they did. I knew they got hot thinking about raping me.
I didn't want to be raped, not... not really raped. But the thought
of one or another of the guys doing it to me like that was starting to
become... well..I was starting to fantasise about it.
As the guys found they could get away with it they were copping
more feels too, and finding excuses to wrestle me to the ground. While
we rolled and struggled I would often feel a hand groping my breasts
before I could shove it off, or a hand on my ass, or even squeezing my
pussy.
Then one time while me and Kevin McCann, Jason, and Paul were at
Kevin's house one of those dumb Baywatch shows came on TV and the guys
were all ogling the half naked girls.
The conversation came up about which of them had had a boob job,
and how you could or couldn't tell. Kevin said you could tell by feel,
while Paul said you could tell just by looking at them. Then Jason said
that I probably had a boob job.
The other two laughed and I gave him the finger. Then Kevin
suggested that really all I had was padding. All three of them knew that
wasn't true, but the others went along with it, saying I just had a
padded bra and a lot of tissue paper, and that maybe I was really a guy
pretending to be a girl instead of a girl pretending to be a guy.
"Fuck off," I said. "Blondes stuff their bras. I’’m not a blonde."
I had glistening chestnut hair that had a little bit of red in it.
"Brunettes do too," Jason grinned.
"Like I would bother," I sniffed. "If I had any interest in that
kind of thing I'd be down at the mall buying makeup."
"I think you're a guy. That's why you don't wear makeup or
dresses," Kevin grinned.
"Hey, fuck you guys. I guess that's why you're always trying to cop
a cheap feel off me, huh?"
"Well, we thought you were a girl, Jessie. Maybe we been wrong all
this time," Paul said, puffing on a Marlboro.
"Yeah, prove you're a girl. Show us your tits," Kevin said.
"Kiss my ass."
"Sure. Show it to us."
I was wearing a pair of shorts that day, and a thin tank top that
exposed several inches of my trim belly. It was fairly tight across my
chest. Underneath it I wore, instead of a bra, a halter, one of those
Jockey things that matched their panties, which I also was wearing.
Anyway, I was on the sofa, and all of a sudden Kevin grabbed at me,
saying he wanted to see if I was a girl. I grabbed his wrists and pushed
him off, but then Paul moved behind the sofa and reached down and
grabbed my wrists, pulling them up and back over the top of the sofa.
"Let me go, you fuckers!" I cursed, pretending anger when what I
really felt was heat and excitement.
I was bent back, my chest sticking out firmly against the tank top.
I tried to kick out at the others but they pinned my legs, grinning,
joking, and leering. Then Kevin, to my surprise, because I wasn't
expecting him to really do anything but maybe grope me, lifted up my
tank top, shoving it over my halter.
"Let me go! Stop it!" I demanded, face flushed, insides starting to
thrum with an excitement I couldn't ever remember feeling.
Instead Kevin, grinning, maybe leering, gripped the elastic at the
bottom of the halter and yanked the halter up over my breasts.
Suddenly they were exposed. I gasped in shock, humiliated by my
exposure to them. The guys were silent. I think shocked as well, staring
at my firm, taut breasts. I don’’t think they’’d expected Kevin to do
that either, and weren’’t sure how to react - except to stare.
I struggled and squirmed, but they held me almost absently as they
looked at my tits. My face was beet-red, but the heat I felt in my groin
was far worse. My body thrummed with a strange, languid lust that was
affecting my thinking processes.
Even as I struggled to pull free, even as I felt desperately
embarrassed at my exposure, I wanted them to do more. I wanted them to
touch me. I almost ached for it. I knew I must look really erotic, and
actually arched my back more than necessary, almost thrusting my breasts
out at them.
I kept straining at their grip, gasping and groaning with the
effort I was putting into it. And I was putting effort into it. I wasn't
just pretending to be struggling. I really was. That was important to me
somehow, though why I didn't know.
"Well, sure looks real to me," Kevin said, licking his lips.
"You can't tell without touching them," Jason said, his voice a bit
shaky.
Then Jason put his hand on my left breast, on the underside,
stroking it, then squeezing as it moved upwards. Kevin's hand moved onto
my other breast, and both squeezed repeatedly as I struggled against
Paul's grip.
"Look at how hard her nipples are," Paul said. "The little
cocktease wants it."
I felt even more embarrassment. I knew he was right. I could feel
how hard my nipples were, and knew how thick and fat they got when cold,
or, recently, when aroused.
Jason pinched my nipple, and I yelped, feeling a hot, burning slash
of fiery heat across my mind.
““Ow!””
"Maybe she's hot for us," Jason said.
"Yeah, I bet she wants it," Kevin growled.
He held my aching little nipple between thumb and forefinger and
rolled it between them, squeezing and stroking and plucking at it.
"If a girl's really hot you can feel it between her legs," Paul
said. "They get all hot and wet."
I struggled even harder, because I was sure I was hot and moist
down there, and the idea of them feeling it and knowing... knowing what
a slut I was... was too humiliating to stand.
"Let go of me you fucking faggot bastards!" I screamed.
Paul laughed. "Whatever we are we aren't fags, Jessica."
Jason and Kevin looked at each other, then at me, both of them
anxious, uncertain, excited. Jason reached for my shorts and unclipped
the catch in front, and Kevin tugged the zipper down, then both pulled
at my shorts, pulling them down and exposing the black cotton jockey
string bikini panties.
Jason cursed softly, and I heard Paul sigh as they stared.
Then Jason got his fingers in the elastic waistband and tugged them
down to expose my groin. I gasped in shock, humiliation coloring my face
as all three stared at my tight pussy cleft and the small thatch of
neatly trimmed hair.
Then Kevin slid his hand between my thighs and cupped my pubic
mound. He squeezed, and my body felt a flare of heat. It was like he was
squeezing the juices up from my pussy into my body, like they were
washing through my nervous system.
His fingers rubbed against my cleft, and pushed inside, and I
gasped, almost sobbing in embarrassment.
"She's all wet," he said, holding up his glistening fingers.
"She wants it," Paul growled.
"I don't," I gasped.
"Cock tease."
I was almost dazed with the contrary feelings surging through my
mind. I was so embarrassed I wanted to fall through the floor and never
see them again. But I was also so hot that every touch made me clench my
jaw against the crackling sexual heat.
"Let's do her," Jason said.
"Not unless she says so," Kevin said.
I felt a wave of relief at Kevin's words, but at the same time I
wished I could kill him.
"She wants it," Paul said.
"Let her say it then," he replied.
He squeezed my pussy and I shuddered.
"Tell us you want it, Jessica," he said. "Tell us to fuck you."
"No!" I gasped.
"Little cock-tease," Paul repeated.
I felt Kevin's fingers at my tight slit, slowly wriggling inside. I
moaned and writhed, but they held me tightly as his finger pushed into
my pussy hole. It hurt. I was so tight, and so virginal that my pussy
clamped down around his finger and he could barely move it. They tugged
my shorts and panties off completely, and their strong arms forced my
legs far apart, spreading me open.
Jason's fingers were at the top of my slit, rubbing at it there in
a way that was sending sparks through my body. I had avoided touching
myself, avoided playing with myself, not wanting to be female, wanting
to be a guy, to be the tough tomboy. I had overlooked sex, pushed it
away for years, so the sensation now, as his finger rubbed wetly back
and forth across my swollen button was - shocking.
Meanwhile Paul had now pinned both my wrists together behind the
sofa and was reaching down to squeeze and fondle my taut, swollen, hot
breasts.
"Tell us to fuck you," Kevin said.
"No!" I gasped. "I don't... don't... want... you to!"
"You little bitch. You're acting like a cock tease just to turn us
on. That's why you're always wrestling with us," Paul said, squeezing my
breasts hard enough to make me gasp in pain.
"No!" I gasped. "Ooh!"
"She's a virgin," Kevin said, his finger reaching my cherry.
"Figures. Probably a dyke," Paul said.
"If the little girl won't fuck us there's nothing we can do," Kevin
said.
"Fuck her. She wants it!"
"If she wants to act like a little girl we can't change that,"
Kevin said. "We'll treat her like a little girl - a bad little girl."
He looked at Jason, and made a motion I barely caught, then Paul
dragged my wrists sideways along the back of the sofa, then over the arm
of it, while the other guys grabbed my legs and yanked them up and in.
I found myself laying on my belly on the sofa, but only briefly,
because Paul dragged my arms, then my head and shoulders and chest over
the arm until I was upside down, draped over it, with my bare bottom
sticking up.
I tried to wriggle away but my legs were pinned, and Paul still
held my wrists as he moved to kneel beside my head. Someone’’s hand was
between my legs, rubbing back and forth over my moist sex, and it was
all I could do not to buck back against it as my pussy burned with need.
"This is what we do to bad little girls who play games," Kevin said.
A moment later I felt his hand crack against my bare bottom. I felt
a moment of shock, and an instant's impact, then a sharp, burning rip of
pain that made me cry out despite myself. A moment later there was
another sharp crack, and another, and another as the guys spanked me.
I sobbed now, unable to suppress it, gasping and crying out in pain
as the guys took turns slapping my aching ass. They weren't going easy
on me either, but slapping really hard. And since only one could spank
at a time there was another hand between my quivering thighs, squeezing
and fingering my moist pussy.
Fire was running along my veins and my body was engulfed in a
whirling hurricane of sexual pleasure as the heat inside me built to a
towering height, then exploded. It was my first ever orgasm, and I
didn't even know what it was as it wracked my body from end to end.
I gasped and groaned as my insides quivered and spasmed. My pussy
flared white-hot in someone's fingers, and my mind was blasted by the
fiery lust and madness of a powerful orgasmic eruption.
The guys might not have known for sure if I was coming, but my
gurgling moans couldn't be mistaken for much besides pleasure as they
spanked my ass and fingered my sex.
"Tell us to fuck you," Kevin demanded.
"Yeah, tell us you want it, slut," Paul demanded, reaching under me
and squeezing one of my breasts hard.
"Fuck it! Let's do her!" Jason cried.
"Not unless she says."
"She's getting off on this!"
"Yeah, I think so too."
A finger pushed into my hot pussy and pumped in and out, jabbing
against my hymen as I gasped and panted for breath. The orgasm seeped
out of me, but didn't take away the burning sexual heat that gripped my
body.
"Spread her legs wide."
Rough hands spread my legs further apart, and fingers moved with
more care across my slit, centering on the hard little spark of dark
heat at the top of my slit. They rubbed carefully, sending waves of
pleasure up my spine, while their hands spanked down across my fiery red
bottom.
"Tell us you want it, slut," Kevin ordered. "Tell us you want our
cocks in you."
"Uhhhhhggh," I groaned. "N...nnnooooo."
"Say it, Jessie," Paul growled, squeezing my breast hard and
twisting it painfully.
I gasped in pain, my body straining and shaking as he cruelly
twisted my breast from side to side, but the heat only rose higher
inside me. I wanted them to fuck me. I yearned for it, but I couldn't
say it.
"She wants it," Jason said.
"Bring her into the other room," Kevin said.
They pulled me up to my feet, jerking my top and halter up over my
shoulders so I was entirely naked, then dragged me, struggling all the
way, out of the finished basement, the rec room, and into the unfinished
part, with its pipes and stone floors, the washing machine and dryer and
furnace, and a small work table near the sink. I was too weak to
struggle much, and my body was burning with lust.
"On the table," Kevin said.
They draped me on my back lengthwise along the narrow table. Paul
held my wrists, while Jason held my ankles. The table was only big
enough to hold my torso, so my head and shoulders basically fell off one
end and my legs fell over the other. Kevin went to the cupboards and
came out with some cord. He tied it around my right wrist, then pulled
it wide and tied the cord to the leg of the table on that corner.
He did the same for my other wrist, forcing my arms down sharply so
that my back arched atop the table. My head hung fully over the side and
all I could do was pant and moan and blink my eyes as the blood began to
rush to my head. I felt my legs spread apart, my bottom squirming on the
edge of the table, and then my ankles were wrapped in cord and pulled
down off either side of the table, down sharply and tied to the lower legs.
I sobbed in heat and excitement, but also a deep, gut churning
embarrassment and anxiety for what was going to happen, for what they
would tell others, for whether I could hide just how hot and slutty I
was feeling just then. I could feel all their eyes racing over my body,
hear them growling with lust. And then their hands moved over my body,
all six of them, stroking and squeezing and fondling and groping me
everywhere. I felt an incredible, amazing surge of lust inside me, so
that I was practically coming as my ankles were bound apart.
I strained at the cord, wincing as it dug into my flesh, arching my
back provocatively as they pinched my nipples and fingered my slit.
"Tell us you want it, Jessie," Kevin demanded.
"Fuck you," I gasped.
"No. Fuck you," Jason said.
"Yeah, all of us will," Paul growled.
My ass slapped and ground down against the wood as I strained
repeatedly at the cords, gasping in heat. Kevin brought over something
from the freezer in the corner and then lifted it up and placed it
against my armpit. It was a chunk of ice.
I gasped and strained anew, but couldn't do anything about it. He
laughed as I squealed and pulled at the cords, running the ice cube up
and down my ribs. Jason and Paul grabbed some ice too. Jason rolled his
over my breasts and across my belly, while Paul rubbed his up and down
my thighs and pussy slit.
"Stoooop! OoohH!" cried.
"Tell us to fuck you," Paul demanded.
He slowly forced the ice down against my tight pussy lips and
against the entrance to my virgin pussy hole. I whined and strained but
couldn't defend my vulnerable sex hole as the ice slid into me.
"Stooo! Take it out! Take it oooout!"
"Say it!"
"Yes!"
"Yes what?"
"You... you can... you can... fuck me," I moaned.
"All right," Paul growled.
"Beg for it," Kevin demanded.
"Please," I gasped, boiling with lust and burning with humiliation.
"Beg for it."
"Please! Please fuck me!" I gasped. "Please fuck me! Pleease!"
"Man!" Jason grunted.
"This is some kinda slut," Paul said.
"And still a virgin," Kevin replied.
He leaned over my face and his hand slid behind my head. His
fingers snagged my hair and forced my head up and forward, then he
kissed me full on the lips, his tongue shooting into mine. It was my
first really sexual kiss, and it startled me for a moment, then I
replied instinctively, pushing my tongue against his.
He pulled back.
"Beg us to fuck you, all of us."
"Please fuck me!" I moaned. "Please fuck me!"
"Who? Who do you want to fuck you?"
"Yououuu!"
"Who?"
"All of you!" I sobbed. "Fuck me! G-Go ahead! Put it in me! Fuck me!"
"Who goes first?" Paul said, licking his lips.
"Since I can pound the shit out of you two I go first," Kevin said.
Nobody seemed to have a better answer than that as Kevin climbed
onto the table and knelt between my spread thighs.
He undid his pants and jerked them down, and I felt his erection
leap up in hot, eagerness and press against my buttock.
"Like it, baby. This is the cock that's gonna take your cherry,"
Kevin said from above.
I gasped as Jason gripped my head, lifting it up and forward so I
could see. His hand was no my breast at the same time, while Paul
pinched and twisted my nipple on the other side.
He pulled his shirt up and tossed it off, then leaned forward atop
me, his bare chest rubbing against my full breasts, squeezing them down
as his hand took over from Jason’’s in my hair and his mouth sought mine
again. He kissed me roughly, his tongue shooting into me as his cock
prodded at my sex.
"Give it to her, man," Paul said.
"Yeah. We want our turns," Jason growled.
"Plenty of pussy to go around," Kevin replied, easing back onto his
knees.
He took his cock in his hand and rubbed the head up and down my
drooling, dripping pussy opening, then began to apply pressure, slowly
sinking the thing through my tight, taut pussy lips and into my sex hole.
He leaned forward over me, then thrust hard. I cried out in pain as
his cockhead smashed into, and through my cherry, then I felt it sink
deep into my belly, and knew I was no longer a virgin. And no longer a
tomboy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From the ebook: The Rape Toy, by Argus
Argus books have been published by Virgin Nexus, Silver Moon, Star,
Olympia, Chimera, and Beeline. His ebooks are available at
http://www.ebookblue.com/

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