Kidnapped teen

Kidnapped Teen
PART ONE

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Johnny was bad enough… but… Hank, and Bill, and T-Bird… all four of them… corning closer and closer.

I cried out… I begged them to reconsider what they were doing.

But it did no good.

They kept coming closer, stopping only to tip the bottle of cheap tequila up to their mouths.

And then, their hands were on me…

How many times have we heard of one media report or another telling us that sexual activity starts younger in our children these days.

Our mothers wondered what shoes to wear with what dress when they prepared themselves for a date. Our daughters are faced with a similar question, whether to wear the leather panties, the crotchless or the edibles.

Ah love… ah life. Most of the experts (if anyone really has faith in THAT designation anymore) agree that this trend is a healthy one. It's a meaner world that faces our children than the one our parents knew. It should, therefore, be prepared for earlier, and the rituals of love and sex should naturally be an integral part of that preparation.

So say the experts.

But one can't help wonder are young minds and young personalities ready to cope with the wild extremes of emotion that accompany serious sexual activity?

Rejection is difficult enough at any age, but when one has scarcely scratched the surface of the question, "Who am I?" can he reasonably be expected to handle a painful rejection? Is there, perhaps, an increased danger that extremes of emotion, ill prepared for, could produce extreme reactions?

The following story would indicate that this is the case. Read for yourself, and decide.

I was talking to my friend, Mary Beth Rogers.

Or, rather, she was talking to me.

"Junella Simpson, you are really too, too much! You deserve better."

"Mary Beth, you just don't understand him. There's a soft side to him… really. Johnny's… I don't know… he's afraid that people are going to brush him off…"

"I know. So he pounds them into the dirt before hand, just to keep things in gear."

"Well… I'll admit, he does have a temper."

"Oh, give me a break, Junella. That's like saying Anne Boleyn had a headache!"

"No… you give him a break!"

"Like he gave Harry Robbins?"

I was afraid she'd mention that.

Johnny and Harry had both been thrown out of school for a week because they were fighting. Harry, however, in addition to the failing grades, was also going to have a big hospital bill. Johnny had broken his arm and his nose.

"And another thing," she went on, knowing when she had me at a disadvantage and pressing it to the fullest extent possible, "the morons that he hangs out with are even worse."

She was referring to Hank Smoot, Bill Scogg, and Ernie, a.k.a. T-Bird, only one of whom, T-Bird, was still in school, and he was walking a thin line himself.

"I know," I finally had to admit. I didn't like hearing what she was telling me, but it was hard to argue with her.

"You know it's the truth," she pressed.

"Yeah…"

"I mean… you can't have opinions about truth. It's just…"

"Mary Beth! You do not have to rub my face in the mud! All right?"

"Easy girl… don't be so sensitive."

But I knew she was right. I just didn't like hearing it.

"What do you see in him, anyway?"

I took a moment before answering. I could have said the same crap about seeing a different side to him than he showed to everyone else… a soft side… a sensitive side…

I could have said that I knew there was potential there, that he could develop into a first-rate human being…

I could have said that he needed me… that without someone like me to care for him, he'd just go down the tubes…

I could have said any or all of those, but I didn't, because it would have all been bullshit!

I knew it, and Mary Beth knew it.

If there is such a thing as redeeming social value, Johnny Waddell was NOT the person the term had been coined to describe.

The sonfabitch was worthless, and I knew it.

Miserable human being.

He lied.

He stole… from his mother, his sister, from my mother and from me…

He beat up on anyone who got in his way or who wouldn't give him what he wanted…

Me included.

In fact, the first time he took me out, he raped me.

That's right.

Just up and raped the shit out of me.

"This isn't the way to Center City, is it?" I'd asked him when I saw that there were less and less houses.

"I told you," he mumbled in that quaintly inarticulate way of his, "it's a short-cut."

"Yeah… well, usually when my daddy takes a short-cut, we get lost."

He smirked, and then he casually looked my way. "Well, some short-cuts are shorter than others."

"Listen," I said, "I think I want to go back now."

"You do, huh?"

"Yeah… I do. Can you turn the car around?"

"In a minute."

"Why? Why not now?"

"Because we aren't where we're going to be, when we get there, that is."

"Where's that?" I asked, getting more and more scared.

"Where we're going."

Then, looking levelly at me, he said, "You ask one fuck of a lot of questions. Ain't anyone ever told you that women should keep their fucking mouths shut?"

"NO! No one ever told me that. And furthermore…"

"You're wrong. You just been told."

I was going to say something, but then he started to slow the car down. "Where are we going? Where are you taking me?"

He smiled. "You'll see. You're gonna like it."

"No I won't. Let me go! Let me out."

"Hang on, would you?" he asked, acting like I was getting all worked up over nothing and wouldn't I feel silly once I realized that I'd just been over-reacting…

Well, I wasn't over-reacting. I was being taken down a tiny dirt road, a real backwoods washboard road, and then, suddenly, he stopped the car, and the thing had been making so much noise before, rattling and shaking over the bumpy road, that the sudden silence was jarring. Frightening… almost as frightening as the look on Johnny's face reflecting the moonlight.

"Where are we?" I asked. I cursed inwardly at the way my voice was shaking.

"Where do you think?"

"I… I don't know."

"We're at the playground."

I looked around. I couldn't see anything but trees.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that now you and me… we play."

"You stay right where you are," I said as he slid across the seat anyway.

"Don't be that way, Junella," he said. "Don't. It's real unfriendly."

"You get back. I never let a boy kiss me on the first date."

"Suits fuck out of me," he said. "I'll forego that and get straight to the good shit."

"You leave me alone!" I shouted.

"Ain't no point in you shouting at me," he said, "or shouting at all, for that matter. No one's ever going to hear you out here."

"Johnny… please…"

"There's an old saying. 'Put out, or get out.' You ever hear of that saying?"

My hands and my voice were both shaking terribly by now, and I didn't have the faintest idea what I was going to do next.

"What's it going to be?" he asked. "You going to put out, or are you going to get out?"

"I… I…"

Then, I realized. The bastard… he was bluffing.

"You aren't ever going to lay a hand on me, that's for sure."

"Fine."

He opened the door to his side, got out, walked around the big car and opened my door.

"Don't you think I'm polite? Opening the door for my date? Come on… get your ass out."

"Johnny! You can't be serious! Stop kidding."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Then he said, "Look, could you hurry it up? I don't have all night."

I realized he wasn't kidding. At all.

I started to cry.

"Oh shit…" he said, annoyed. "You're going to stain my new seat covers. Damn! I just put the fuckers in… look, would you get the fuck out of my car? I'm getting tired of this."

He reached into the car and grabbed me by the wrist. "You're going to have to learn that when I say something, you stupid slimy cunt, you'd best do it, and the first time I say it, too!"

He pulled.

I started to pull back.

He pulled harder.

I pulled back harder.

"Oh, I see. You don't want to get out huh? That leaves you with one option."

And with that, he jumped in on top of me.

"Johnny," I screamed, but it was already too late.

His hand was starting to creep up my thighs, and I felt his fingers pressing against my panties.

"Lord, now don't that feel nice," he said, "all wet, and juicy… you must have known I was coming and got ready, huh?"

He stuck his fingers underneath my panties then, pulling the crotch piece off my cunt lips.

"Look at that, would you? I've never felt a pussy that was, hotter or wetter. Say, are you a virgin? Or what?"

I couldn't believe it was happening to me.

There was a sharp burst of fear plowing through my body, like the blade of a sword, and it felt like it was cutting my guts out.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't think… and I couldn't react.

All I could do was feel… feel his fingers scraping over my cunt… feel my clit throbbing and aching…

I felt a pressure inside my body, and although I wasn't thinking well, I was worried.

I paid it no attention though.

I figured that if it was in my cunt, and I was afraid, well, naturally I was afraid of rape.

Right?

Well, his fingers started to spread my pussy lips, and soon, they were snaking right up into my cunt hole.

I felt the muscle around the rim closing in real tight, but there wasn't anything I could do to keep his fingers from entering me… he was much much stronger than I was.

Back in the days before he started doing drugs, Johnny had played football for the team, and now, even though his coordination wasn't worth the effort for him to even go out for the team, his muscles were still well-developed… and like I said, he got in a lot of extra practice beating people into the dirt and all.

Well, he wasn't going to have to beat me into the dirt.

I felt that big meaty arm of his clamp around my neck and start to squeeze, and decided right then and there that the scars from rape would heal a lot faster than the scars from death, so I went all limp, letting my muscles sag and relax, and he just moved right in, piling his fingers up into my cunt.

I groaned from the pain, but I stopped fighting him.

I knew that I wanted to live, and at that moment, I didn't trust him to let me, if I fought him, that is.

He pulled my dress up, and then, gripping the waistband of my panties, he pulled real hard on it, just yanked as hard as he possibly could, and I felt the material tear.

I felt another burst of fear… at least I thought it was fear, but the truth is, I was too worked up and hyper-charged with adrenalin to know what I was feeling, to know what I was thinking, to know what was happening to me.

I just felt my nerves alt starting to explode, all through my body, and I felt my muscles starting to twitch, and to jerk, and I just knew that I was going to be in for one rough time.

I didn't know how rough… but I figured that he was going to beat me, and make me bleed, and I suddenly had weird thoughts about a trial, and I saw me staggering into a police station, and I saw the local cops sitting around, laughing at me, saying things like, "You're sure now, little lady, that you didn't give him the tiniest bit of encouragement…?"

And then, I felt Johnny's hands on my thighs, lifting them up off the car seat.

I was crying.

"Please… just be gentle… don't hurt me… please… don't hurt me."

He reached his hand down to my mouth, started to squeeze with his fingers, and he said, "You don't worry about a thing, Baby. I'll take care of you. Old Johnny and his cock'll take real good care of you."

He laughed then, a sharp, harsh, nasty laugh, and stuck his fingers into my cunt again.

"I think you done had your cherry popped, didn't you?"

I didn't say anything, but any fool could have figured that out.

"I guess old Clyde got a chance to dip his wick after all, didn't he?"

Johnny was talking about Clyde Potter, my very first boyfriend, and I thought for a while that he'd be the only man I'd ever love.

But then he went away to college, and so to getting even, I stopped loving him.

I guess I showed him.

But now, I was wishing that it could be Clyde's fingers up my cunt instead of Johnny's.

Clyde was gentle, and he really knew how to take care of me.

He could make me come almost every time, and he never hardly shot off too quick.

That's what I was thinking at the time, anyway.

But Johnny, he was being just as rough with me as he knew how.

Two fingers… three… stuffing them up into my hole and then spreading them apart as far as he could possibly stretch my hole.

I felt tissues that I'd never even known about sending out sharp signals of pain.

I started to cry.

Real hard.

"Damn," muttered Johnny, "all over the seat covers again."

"Well to hell with your fucking seat covers," I yelled at him.

That seemed to take him by surprise for just a second but then I heard him laugh in the darkness.

"Yeah… that's what I like. A woman with a little fight in her. Come on, Darling! Yell at me again."

I said nothing. In the pale glow of the moonlight, I could see him grinning like a cat… or a skull.

I didn't know which, but neither one was anything I wanted to be around.

He suddenly slapped me on the side of my thigh.

"Come on, Darling," he said again. "I want to hear you get pissed off. Yell at me a little. Let's see a little spunk!"

He slapped me again.

"You piece of shit," I said, but I said it softly, not yelling.

"There you go," Johnny cried, enthusiastically. He forced me over on my side and gave me a hard slap on my naked ass.

"You stupid asshole," I yelled.

"Hey hey!!! That's what I want to hear."

He slapped me again.

It was starting to hurt.

He stuck a couple of fingers back in my cunt again, and slapped me two or three more times on the ass, each time hitting me harder and harder.

"Stop it. stop it!!!" I yelled.

"No… you stupid cunt. I'm not going to stop it. Not until I'm good and ready."

There was something in his voice that I heard then, something that I hadn't heard before.

It turned my blood to ice and made all my muscles go rigid from fear.

He sounded like one of the most dangerous people I'd ever been in contact with.

I realized then that he was crazy, and that I was in danger.

I didn't want to die.

But I knew that I was hopelessly defenseless against him.

He slapped me four or five more times, each one solidly applied to my ass cheeks, each one stinging like flames, and each one hurting me bad, so bad the tears were spurting from my eyes.

"Stop, Johnny," I said again, and again… I don't know how many times I said it, begging him. He completely ignored me. He was a sadistic beast.

And then, I heard the final sound, the one that I'd been dreading the most.

I heard his zipper coming down.

He pulled his cock out.

Even in the dim light, I could see the shape of the thing. It was huge. It was a monster.

"Oh… my… God…" I said, astounded.

I realized that I had about thirty seconds of life left… and then my body would be split wide open, ripped from my cunt right up the middle… and I'd bleed slowly to death…

Well… maybe I was being a little melodramatic, but I knew that Clyde cock had never been that big… and I didn't think that cocks could grow that big.

Ten inches.

That's what it was.

A ten inch cock. Two inches across.

My pussy was already screaming in pain, just from the thought of that thing pressing into it… squeezing against it.

I felt him pull my legs apart, and suddenly, in a fit of blind panic, I started to scream, babbling incoherently, and struggling.

He reached between my legs, grabbed a handful of my pubic hair and started to pull on it.

"Ease up, Doll," he said calmly. "I can get mean. Really mean. I don't want to… but I will."

I kept on shouting, screaming… crying… babbling, and then, he slapped me.

Not on the thigh… not on my ass… but on my cunt. Brought the backs of his fingers down sharply across my wet, exposed slit.

It was like he'd pounded a sharp spike into my cunt.

I screamed, even more loudly, but I stopped struggling.

"Yeah," he said, "that's better."

Then, he climbed on top of me, pressed the swollen head of his cock against my cunt and started to shove it into me.

Well… he didn't shove it into me yet… he just shoved. My hole was just too tiny and narrow to let him in.

But that didn't stop him from trying.

He was a hard bastard, and stubborn, and he didn't even make an attempt to be gentle, to try to work it in a little bit at a time.

He just shoved.

In fact, that's as good a phrase as any to describe Johnny's approach, not only to sex, but to the whole world.

If it won't fit, force it.

He forced it all right.

He forced the tight hole between my thighs to open, even though there was no way that it should have happened.

The pain was the worst thing that I'd ever experienced in my life… worse than anything I'd have imagined possible.

He never stopped, either. No point where he rested a moment, maybe pulled back on his cock to spread the juice around, (for there WAS juice inside my pussy, and lots of it), nothing like that at all.

He just rammed onward, deeper and deeper and deeper, until I felt that huge, mushroom-shaped glans pressing against the back wall of my pussy.

That was a shock.

I'd never really known how deep my cunt was before.

Clyde's cock had never shown me, that was for sure.

I'd played with myself, stuffed things into myself, but I'd never plumbed the depths of my cunt to see how much cock it could hold.

I'd never had a cock that needed to find out.

Now, I knew how deep my cunt was.

I could feel the entire inner chamber for the first time in my life… and the amazing thing was, when I brought my fingers up to the opening, I could feel that there was still some of Johnny's cock left on the outside.

"I guess I'm too small, huh?" I said.

That, of course, was a mistake.

"You don't think I'm through with you, do you?" he said.

I didn't have any response to that, but I knew what was coming.

It was.

He just leaned all his weight against his cock, pressing it against the bottom wall of my cunt well, and I just knew it was going to split open.

But I got my first lesson in what the body is able to tolerate, that evening.

The walls of my cunt are much more elastic than I'd realized, and the thing hurt like hell, pressing against me, but it didn't split me open, the way I'd feared.

It stretched me.

And stretched… and stretched… and stretched…

I screamed… I was writhing beneath him… squirming hard.

The pain was like sharp razor blades slicing through the inside of my pussy.

I couldn't stand it, but there was nothing I could do to make it stop.

He kept pushing… and finally, to my amazement, I began to feel something new.

It was a light tapping sensation… and it was slapping against my cunt slit… and I realized then that it was the sack of his balls. He had pushed his cock all the way into my cunt!

"There you go," he said, sounding pleased with himself. "I knew you weren't too tiny."

I don't remember what I said. I just know that I was incoherent from the pain, and still totally dazed from shock and fear, and disbelief that this was really happening to me.

Then he said, "Now, you're going to feel what a real cock is like fucking you."

He raised his ass up off my body, pulling his cock out with it.

That huge meat roll scraping back over my tortured cunt walls hurt almost as much going out as it did going in.

But it did accomplish one thing, and that was to spread the thick juices that had accumulated inside my pussy all over the walls, and particularly along the rim of my cunt hole.

That was the spot that was the most hurt by the entry of that massive cock.

Then, he reached the opening of my cunt with his glans, and I braced myself for another harsh plunge.

It came, about as I'd expected it would.

A quick jabbing thrust sending the full length of his cock plunging back into me.

I screamed, and I felt something inside me tear.

I was certain that he'd gotten the angle wrong that time and that he'd pierced the wall of my cunt.

But he just laughed.

"You worry too much," he said.

"Oh God, it hurts, it hurt… it hurts so bad…"

"Yeah? Well, a little pain's good for you. It never hurt anyone."

"Johnny… why are you doing this?"

I still didn't understand that. I would have probably fucked him anyway… maybe not that night, but I'd have given in. That's the reason I went out with him in the first place, because I wanted a guy who would treat me like a sex object for a change.

But of course, all of those thoughts had been forgotten when he started to attack me.

Suddenly Clyde had started to look real good again.

I felt his cock savage the inside of my cunt, and then do it over and over and over.

Harder. Faster.

Faster still.

Harder and harder…

I could see that there was a look of demented determination on his face. He was breathing hard… and there were strange gurgling noises coming from his throat.

I have to say, the man scared me to death.

But there was something else, along with the fear, and up until now, it had been obscured in the blast of adrenalin that had been flowing through my veins, the gut-wrenching panic that seized me like a cold, icy fist.

Now… I realized that there was also a sensation of heat.

In the depths of my cunt… along the surface… between my pussy lips…

I felt my clit give out with a twinge every time his cock pulled out, or shoved back in.

I hadn't been paying any attention to it, but now, there was no longer any way that I could ignore it.

I felt the juices inside my pussy, and they had grown so thick, the initial sensation of rubbing and scraping had largely given over to a feeling of pleasant friction… a friction that was almost perfectly suited to the sensitivity of her cunt walls.

In and out… in and out…

He was going as fast as ever… and as hard as always… but somehow, it didn't seem as mean… it didn't seem as horrible… I was… (have you guessed) starting to enjoy it. And the sensation crept up on me so insidiously that I wasn't even aware of the fact till long after it had me locked in its grip, as helplessly captive as when I'd been paralyzed by fear.

I felt the sensations gathering now, all of then starting to focus directly on my pussy.

With every stroke of his cock, I had a feeling of floating… of being swept up into the air… of being carried higher and higher…

The juices from my pussy were covering my cunt… my thighs, my pubic bush… his pubic bush…

We were slipping and sliding against each other… we were grinding our hips against each other… and I realized then that I was helping him along. It was no longer Johnny raping me… we were both fucking each other.

As his cock plowed down into my cunt, I was raising my hips, thrusting them up at him to increase the pressure of his cock as it slammed down into my hole.

I moved with him, matching him thrust for thrust… and with each stroke, I was moving closer and closer to madness.

I started to scream again, but this time, I wasn't screaming for him to stop.

I didn't realize exactly what I WAS saying until after I'd been babbling the words for a while.

"Don't stop," I gasped. "Don't stop. Please… don't stop. Oh, don't ever stop…"

And suddenly, we both realized what was happening… and I think he was just as shocked as I was.

"What the fuck did you say?" he asked in disbelief.

"Don't talk. Fuck," I said.

"Look," he replied, starting to sound annoyed, "no bitch gives me instructions…"

"Either fuck me or let me go, asshole, but shut up! All right?"

He shut up… and he fucked.

Like a man possessed.

I came in a wild fury of muscle spasms and sloppy wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of the mushy swamp of my aroused pussy flesh. He came with me… I don't suppose he was able to hold back once he felt my hips starting to go crazy. I slammed them against him twice for every single stroke of his cock by that time. I was totally out of my head. Totally crazed. And beyond sensation. I was delirious.

"Yes… yes… yes… yes… yes… yes… yes… yes…" I said, over and over.

He just stared down at me, still looking dazed, while his cock spurted into my cunt.

I felt the juices getting much thicker, and now it was all my own hip movement that was keeping the friction and the sensation alive inside my pussy.

He was acting like he was too shocked to move. I don't suppose that was exactly the attitude he was looking for, but I didn't care. I was coming harder, and it was lasting longer, than had ever happened before in my life.

Nothing was going to interfere with my pleasure.

Not even his cock.

His jism was starting to squeeze out the side of his cock, oozing between his cock and the rim of my cunt hole, and I ran my fingers along the edge, letting the goo gather on the tips.

Then, once more to his wondering eyes, I licked my fingers clean.

I didn't care what he thought.

If he couldn't handle it, he had no business fucking me in the first place.

I was hot… aroused, and I felt raunchy, dirty, filthy, and I didn't care who knew it.

"You look surprised," I said after we finally slowed down to catch our breath.

"Yeah…"

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Don't know. That's why I asked, dumb fuck."

Earlier, that would have probably earned me a black eye. Now, I could say anything I wanted and he didn't dare net mad.

I had learned a very important lesson. I wasn't sure what it was, exactly… I mean, I hadn't exactly put it into words… but I knew that it might be useful.

Unfortunately, I also had a lot more to learn… all of it about Johnny.

And I learned it too. Very rapidly.