Kidnapped teen

PART TWO

But of course, I couldn't have told Mary Beth that. No one knew. No body had any idea that Johnny had raped me on our first date… and that I'd come so hard that I made him fuck me again that night before taking me back… and that I'd tried to suck him off as we drove home that night but his cock wouldn't get hard after coming twice in less than an hour.

I'd spent the rest of that night in a kind of dream world. I couldn't believe what had happened.

I couldn't believe I'd acted the way I had.

But… like Mary Beth is always fond of saying… truth is truth, and you can't have opinions about truth.

It had happened… but so had many other things since then.

And it was those things that Mary Beth was talking about when she told me that I was a fool to stay with Johnny.

"Tommy Allen wants to take you to the spring dance, Junella, and I think you'd be a fool to turn him down."

"Mary Beth, Tommy Allen's a nice boy. I like him. We have a lot of fun in study hall. Why ever would I do something mean to him like go to the dance with him?"

"I don't get it."

"Mary Beth… if I told Tommy Allen that I was going to the dance with him, are you saying that Johnny wouldn't find out? Don't be silly. And if Johnny finds out, are you saying he wouldn't beat Tommy so bad he'd never be able to walk or talk right again? Don't be even sillier. It wouldn't be fair to Tommy. Besides, if I try to break up with Johnny, you know what he'll do to me… and I don't need that, thank you."

"You are a fool! You are a little, brainwashed fool! This is 1983, for God's sake. What's it take to bring you up to date. Women have been fighting for their rights, Junella. Go buy a newspaper. They talk about it all the time. It's okay for us to come now when we fuck, and it's okay for us to say that we don't like getting our lips split wide open just because we don't want to go out with a guy. They call them laws, Junella, and they're meant to protect us."

"Bullshit. They'll punish Johnny, maybe, if he does something to me, but there isn't a thing in the world that'll protect me if he decides that I'm two-timing on him. He'll kill me, Mary Beth, and you know it."

I knew it too.

It had nearly happened once before.

I'd thought about leaving Johnny… and I couldn't. I mean… I loved him… I thought.

I loved his cock. I know that.

But there were things that he'd do to me that I just didn't like too much.

Like the time we were at the Kwikburger, and he was drunk as usual, and we were eating hamburgers and drinking our milk shakes, and Hank and Bill and T-Bird pulled up next to Johnny's car.

Now, the Kwikburger is just about the only spot in town where you can go after a date, unless you want to drive over to Center City, and no one did that on a week night, so there were a lot of cars there… and I knew just about everyone.

"What's happening, folks," said Hank, sticking his head in the window on my side.

"Just having a little snack," I said, being polite. I wasn't real fond of Johnny's friends, but I knew better than to make a big scene about it.

He wouldn't be real nice to me if I talked down about his friends to him.

They knew that I didn't like them too much either… but they were polite enough to me… until that night, anyway.

Johnny finished chewing up what was in his mouth and then he said to me, "That's not what they're talking about. They can see we're having a snack. They want to know what we was doing before we came here."

I smiled my prettiest. I was pissed inside, but I knew better than to show it.

"We went out for a ride."

"Yeah," said Johnny, "and after we rode around for about five minutes, we got to where we were going and then we fucked."

The three of them started to snicker. Bill said, "Oh, gosh… I reckon we shouldn't have pried, huh?"

"Why not. I did. Hey Junella, show them your hickey."

Well, my cheeks were already burning, and I was just about fit to be tied, and I got real pissed and just up and poured my Coke over Johnny's head.

Bill and Hank and T-Bird just stared in silence, saying nothing at all. Everybody knew about Johnny's temper.

I turned to Hank and I said, "Would you please get out of the way of the door. I'm getting out."

"The fucking hell you are," said Johnny, calm as he could be.

"Don't you say a word to me, Johnny Waddell! You're an uncouth pig, and you aren't fit to be let outside without a leash and a muzzle."

And then, I slapped him.

By this time, some other people nearby noticed what was going on.

Johnny turned to T-Bird and said, "Ernie, take this for me, would you," handing him the curb-service tray that had been fixed to the window, "and pay for the bill. We'll settle later."

He started the car.

"You let me out of here, Johnny Waddell," I said, and then opened the door.

He reached for my dress and jerked me back onto the seat, tearing the material.

"You aren't going anywhere. Hank, shut the door."

"Help!!" I screamed.

He slapped me.

He reached over me and slammed the door shut himself, saying to Hank, "Thank's good buddy. We'll settle later too."

Hank looked a little scared.

A few people had gotten out of their cars, and they were looking like they thought SOMEONE should help me… not them, necessarily, but someone should do something.

No one did anything.

Johnny screeched out of the parking lot peeling rubber and leaving a cloud of thick, acrid smoke, and within a couple of seconds, he was out of the city limits, flying down the road at about a hundred miles an hour.

"Slow down, Johnny," I said, really scared. I didn't even care at that point if he beat me up. I just didn't want to wind up wrapped around a telephone pole.

He didn't say anything.

"Johnny, you didn't have to talk that way about me to your friends."

"I'll do anything I damn well please, and if you don't like it, you fucking keep your mouth shut and put up with it anyway. You hear?"

"No!"

He slapped me, never even looking at me. His hand ripped across my face.

I tasted blood on my lip where he'd connected.

"You motherfucker. You shitass pig. I hate you. I HATE YOU!!"

He hit me again.

I went crazy and jumped him.

Now… I'm sure there are those of you who will argue that jumping a maniac when he's got the gas pedal floored is not the brightest thing to do.

Neither was going out with Johnny Waddell in the first place. I just couldn't seem to find myself where he was concerned.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and started to squeeze, but that was stupid.

I could hardly get them all the way around, even using both hands at the same time.

He placed his big paw against my tits, and first, he squeezed them hard… real hard… and then he shoved me backwards against the door on the passenger's side.

I felt dizzy for a moment, and then I felt nauseous, and then I felt like my head was coming open.

He slowed down.

"Johnny, what are you going to do to me?"

Then, I started to get scared.

There was nothing around but the dark night, trees… and a deserted road down which I hadn't seen the first car running besides the one I was in.

He didn't say a thing.

He just pulled off the road, and slowed to a stop.

"Johnny, don't hurt me."

He sat there thinking… and thinking… like he was pondering all the options that were before him.

I knew he was going to hurt me. Or at least, I knew he wanted to hurt me. The only thing he wasn't sure of was how badly he was going to hurt me, and whether or not he'd let me live, or just go ahead and kill me after he'd gotten his rocks off and take his chances.

Finally, he said, "Get out of the car."

"Johnny…" I replied, my voice shaking real badly.

"Don't fuck any more with my head. Just get the kick out of the car."

I didn't want to get him any more upset than he already was.

So, I opened the door.

At first, I thought that maybe he was going to just drive off and leave me there, but then I heard the door on his side open as well.

I was really getting scared.

There wasn't even a moon this night.

I could hardly see my hand in front of my face.

The sky was a slightly paler shade of black than the thick forest surrounding us, and I could just make out the shapes of the trees along the roadside.

"Take your clothes off," he said to me.

I was crying real hard now.

"Johnny… don't do this… you don't need to do it… please… please…"

"I said, take your clothes off, honey."

"But… but…"

"But!? Don't fucking give me any shit! You do what I say, or you're going to be real sorry. Real sorry indeed. You hear me?"

I said no more.

Instead, I unbuttoned my blouse. I unsnapped my jeans. I pulled the zipper down.

I wiggled out of them, pulling the tight material down my legs.

"Johnny… don't hurt me… please… don't hurt me…"

He didn't say anything.

He just stood there.

I could make out the shape of his body now. His arms were crossed, and his weight was supported on one leg. He looked real calm and casual… and I could have easily been getting ready to fuck someone that loved me and who I loved… except that Johnny was someone who was very different from everyone else… and I was scared to death of him.

He stood there, saying nothing, but I knew that he could see me… and see everything that I was doing.

Now, my eyes ware growing adjusted to the dark, and I could see him fairly clear too.

He wasn't smiling. Whatever was on his mind, I could tell that he was serious.

Deadly serious.

"Take your shirt off. Come on… hurry it up."

"It's cold out here, Johnny. Honest… I'm shivering."

"I'm getting ready to warm your ass up, don't you worry about that, Darling."

"Johnny, I didn't do anything to hurt you. I don't know why you have to be so mean to me."

"Take your clothes off, you worthless damn cunt, or you're really going to regret it."

I started to cry, but I guided my trembling fingers to my blouse and pulled it down over my shoulders.

Then, unclasping my bra, I let that fall to the ground as well.

"You're still wearing your panties," he said. "You can take them off yourself, or you can let me do it. If I do it, you probably won't be able to wear them again. So why don't you save me the trouble of ripping them off your body, huh?"

I took them off, and then, I was standing naked by the side of a deserted country road, not having the faintest idea what was coming up next.

"Turn around," he said. "Lean up against the side of the car."

I started to shake from fear. "No… oh God… no… no…"

I still didn't even know what he was going to do, but I didn't like the sound of it.

"Do what I said," he replied, sounding tired, like he was getting annoyed at me for "making" him do all this stuff that he really didn't want to do.

The bastard.

He stood there, arms still crossed, watching me… waiting… knowing that in the end, I would do anything he told me to do. I would do it because I sincerely believed that to go against him would be much much worse than anything he could try to make me do.

He had a temper that was absolutely uncontrollable, and once he lost it, there was no way to predict what he would do.

The fastest way to make him lose his temper was to not give him what he wanted, no matter how unrealistic or unfair it was. Because then, he'd just go berserk and the motherfucker was like a wounded bull elephant when that happened, and since no one that I knew in town, least of all me, had an elephant gun, it was always better to just let him have his way.

So I turned around.

I leaned against the car.

The flat of my palms pressed against the cold metal of his car. I felt the sandy shoulder of the road with my bare feet, and the cool evening breeze wafting over my naked skin.

I was shivering, but not just from the chill. I was scared. More scared than I'd ever been in my life.

Then, I heard him pulling his belt off.

I started to cry even harder. "Oh… Johnny," I sobbed. "Don't… please… don't…"

"You just stay right where you are, Junella… don't you fucking move a muscle. You hold right there, until I tell you to move."

I heard the buckle of his belt jingling. I didn't know what he was doing with it, but I had a pretty good idea.

I was crying even harder now, begging him to let me alone… begging him not to do this.

But his response was simply to keep jiggling the buckle of his belt… wrapping it around his hand, I realized, looking at his reflection in the window of his car.

He was slowly coiling it around his palm. His fingers were all stretched out straight, and he was just standing there, calm as anything, casually wrapping that belt around them.

When he had a little over a foot remaining, he stopped.

I felt my ass muscles starting to tense up, but I thought that might make the pain even worse…

And besides, I wasn't even sure that he would hit me there.

He might decide that there were more painful spots to whip me on.

I couldn't believe this was happening.

I really couldn't believe it… but it was, and for some reason, I didn't feel like there was anything I could do about it.

That's the kind of hold he had over me.

Don't ask me how… don't ask me why I allowed him to have such a hold over me, that he could command me to submit to degrading and humiliating punishment, but he could… and I allowed it.

I watched in the window as his arm raised.

He was starting to remind me of the kind of demented half-crazed demon you see in movies with names like "Killer On The Loose" and "The Town That Dreaded Sundown" and "Bloodlust" and things like that.

He was breathing hard, and he was breathing through his nose, which made the sound even louder.

I felt more and more paralyzed by the fear that I was feeling.

My legs got weak. I felt the muscles shaking… trembling… and I was afraid that they wouldn't hold me up.

He swung the belt.

The pain bit into my nerves, rushed to my brain, and I felt like hot lava had just been poured over my body.

He swung again, bringing the belt down across my back.

Again.

And again.

I couldn't stand it… I started to scream.

"Stop IT!" he yelled, hitting me even harder. "You keep that shit up, I'll really give you something to scream about."

It hurt, damn it, and I had to scream, and I couldn't stop just because he was telling me something stupid like, "STOP IT!"

But it was what he meant.

And when I couldn't stop, he hit me a few more times on my ass, and then he grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around.

"You stupid slut! I'm going to give you something to fucking well scream about."

He pulled me towards the front of the car and tossed me back against the hood.

"Spread 'em."

"Oh… God… God no!!"

But he just got this twisted look on his face, looking madder than I'd ever seen him, and he swung the belt again.

He brought it down hard across my tits.

I had never had my tits whipped before.

It hurt so bad, I couldn't stand it.

I started to cry.

"Oh yeah… I hear you," he sneered. "You go ahead… you kicking cry… I'm going to give you something to cry about."

And then he stepped up to me and forced my legs open.

"I said spread them, cunt!!"

Finally, I gave in, just because I didn't have the strength to resist him any more.

And the second I did, he turned sideways and brought the tip of the belt up in a sharp upward thrust, cutting it right across the wet slit between my thighs.

I screamed again.

And again… and again…

"That's good… that's good… you just keep it up, you worthless cunt. You keep it up, and I'll keep it up, and we'll see who of us drops first."

He was swinging fast… hitting me again and again… again and again.

I felt the strokes of his belt starting to merge into one single, unending, searing blast of pain.

I couldn't feel the separate strokes any more.

I had lost track.

My nerves were already fully stimulated… particularly in my cunt.

My clit was reacting more strongly than anything else… and as he kept hitting me, the thing kept throbbing.

And the throbbing sensation kept growing hotter and hotter… and the sensations kept on moving out through my body… and I felt like I was losing control over what I was feeling and what it was doing to me.

I felt my muscles start to go into spasms.

I felt myself leaning back across the hood of his car, felt myself growing too weak to stand up… felt myself starting to fade in and out of consciousness.

He never seemed to even slow down, let alone stop.

Again and again and again, he hit me with his belt, across my stomach, my thighs, and my tits and cunt.

Particularly my tits and cunt.

I stopped feeling pain.

I felt something else.

It didn't feel good, but there was no doubt that it was a sexual reaction.

Noooooo, I thought to myself. I didn't want this to happen. I'd reacted like this when he raped me, and that was why I was in this situation now.

I couldn't control my body at all, it seemed. If it wanted to start being stimulated and aroused by something, even though I hated it, there wasn't anything I could do.

And so, as I felt his belt ripping over my clit again and again, and I felt that tortured bud of nerves growing more and more erect and swollen, and felt the nerve endings gathered there responding with greater and greater reactions, I stopped fighting.

There was only so much that I could do, and then I had to yield in the face of overwhelming force.

I started to cry… I was screaming, actually, but I no longer was sure if it was just in my head or if it was out loud.

I knew that my body was getting aroused.

I didn't like it, but I knew that I couldn't do anything about it.

But damn it, I thought, I wasn't going to come.

That would have been the supreme humiliation.

To have an orgasm in the midst of such awful torture. That would have been my own body insulting me… forcing me to view humiliation and pain as pleasurable.

It had happened once before, but I was determined to control it now.

But of course, Johnny had a surprise in store for me.

Suddenly, he threw his belt down onto the ground and unzipped his fly.

I didn't have a chance to protest, to even make a sound before his cock was out and he was pressing it against my cunt.

I moved instinctively, I moved without thinking.

We'd already fucked that night (as he'd so crudely admitted to his friends) but now, there was a fire in my cunt and a throbbing erection between his legs that went past any ordinary fuck.

He shoved it into me and met with no resistance.

Spreading the hole of my cunt wide, he rammed it all the way in… all the way to the bottom… and he filled me completely.

My muscles were already spasming out of whack, and now, as his cock rammed into my cunt, they went totally berserk, the muscles along my pussy wall in particular.

I felt my cunt gripping his cock like never before, as if I was trying to organically fuse him to my pussy walls.

Harder and harder… he pulled out… he plunged back in… I let out a long, low moan… And we came.

It felt like we'd both been consumed by flames… I felt myself spinning… spiraling up or down, I couldn't tell which… twisting… turning…

I was a mass of pain… but now… all the pain had magically been turned to erotic stimulation… arousal… pleasure…

It was a pleasure that made me feel like one of the damned.

But I couldn't deny it or turn it away. All I could do was to thrust my hips back at him, force his cock to plunge to the deepest point in my cunt and fill me totally.

And when at last we were finished, I collapsed in his arms, there was a possibility that a kind word, a gentle caress, a soft kiss might have turned the entire experience into one that I would have always remembered as the most memorable in my life.

But that was something he was incapable of.

Instead, he pushed me away. I was at my weakest, most vulnerable point, and he just pushed me away with a terse, "Get dressed," and put his belt back through his pants loops.

He walked around to the driver's side, climbed in, lit a cigarette, and just sat there, waiting for me.

I climbed into the car after pulling my panties and my jeans back on, and stuffed my bra into my purse.

I took my time buttoning my blouse back up.

We didn't say a word on the drive back into town.

Needless to say, I didn't kiss him good night when he let me off at my house.

But then, neither did I break up with him, despite every bone in my body screaming for me to do just that.

I couldn't.

Until that day when Mary Beth talked with me. By that time, I was ready, and I was only waiting to be talked into it.

She did it.

I figured that it would be a little easier with him out of school for a week.

There was talk that Harry's family was going to press charges against him.

I thought that if ever there was a time for me to free myself of Johnny Waddell, it was now.

Boy, was I ever wrong!