extreme rape

[The following story was written for the subject, Lacy]

I pride myself on my self-control. But it’s all I can do not to ogle the teenaged girl on my doorstep. First of all, she’s a real hottie. Cute face & smile, blondish hair about shoulder length, a trim, firm body. Secondly, she’s half naked. Her thin white cotton top leaves most of her mid-riff bare (how’d she know I’m a sucker for a bare mid-riff?) while doing nothing at all to disguise the fact that this girl isn’t wearing a bra – her nipples poke the cotton out nicely. Like most girls her age, of course, she doesn’t need a bra – her firm young titties still riding high & proud on her chest. Her tight jeans shorts are little more than a wide swatch of denim, ending just below her crotch. Long, creamy bare legs, tennis shoes and white anklet socks. Damn, she’s hot!

“Hi! I’m Lacy!” this youthful beauty announces in an almost insufferably upbeat voice. “I’m trying to raise money for a school trip. I was wondering if you need your house cleaned?” She gestures to a bucket with sponges, Windex, and other cleaning supplies.

“Well, I do have someone who comes in once a week and does my cleaning…” I start, only to see young Lacy looking crestfallen. “…but I think the house could be a little cleaner…” and see the girl smiling brightly again. We negotiate a price (“Whatever you think it’s worth!”), and I stand aside to let Lacy into my house. As she turns away and bends over to pick up the cleaning supplies, her shorts ride up in the back, displaying the firm, sleek curves of both butt cheeks…

Hey – I’m not stupid. The house doesn’t need cleaning at all – my housekeeper’s great – but who could pass up a chance to watch this barely-clothed cutie bending & reaching & flexing as she “cleans” my house?

I retire to my den to work at my computer, while the teenager starts in on the living room.

It’s clear from the outset that this girl & I are playing a game. A game all-too-familiar to most men and boys. A game nearly every attractive girl and woman plays at one time or another. Sometimes it’s played unconsciously, a mere flexing of hormonal muscles. Sometimes – too often – it’s deliberate and calculated. It’s called the cocktease game. Lacy knows all too well the effect she has on males. At best, she probably counts on this effect to bolster her ego & self-confidence. At worst, she’ll be manipulating the males around her to get what she wants. At the very worst, she’s using her sexuality simply for the sake of cruelty – teasing & taunting & never fulfilling, just for the pleasure of it.

I don’t know which level of cocktease this teenager is, yet. But I do know one thing: before she leaves my house today, I’ll make it very clear to the girl that I don’t like to play the cocktease game. Not one bit.

She’s definitely experienced at the game. There’s a sort of insolence, an arrogance almost, about her as she moves about the living room. The girl knows I’m watching her, and she’s putting on quite a show. Making a point of bending over to dust the bottom shelves, rather than squatting down to clean them. Making sure I get a good look at that firm young rump… She even finds an excuse to lean over at the open doorway to the den, giving me the opportunity – an opportunity she knows I’ll take — to look down her shirt at her luscious tits before she straightens back up.

For the time being, I play the game, too. I find excuses to walk through the rooms she’s working in – getting a drink of water from the kitchen, going to the front hall to check on the mail, and so on. And I can tell Lacy’s getting a little frustrated. She knows I’m looking at her – but I’m not reacting. A casual glance, but not the poorly disguised ogling she’s clearly used to.

Finally the teenager has finished, except for the den. She pauses at the door. Quite lovely, really. A little flushed from her work, hair a little askew. “Come on in,” I tell her, getting up from my desk and walking past her to the door. “I’ve got something I else I can do while you’re in here,” I inform her as I brush past her. Smiling to myself, enjoying the look of disappointment that flits across her face. With me in the den, she would have brought out the heavy artillery, so to speak. All the while convincing herself she’s safe teasing an older man – after all, older guys have more self-control than boys her own age, don’t they? No matter how provocative she is, an older guy would know better than to do anything…right?

I pull the door shut behind me as I leave the room. Knowing the girl will snoop, knowing she’ll have to know what I’ve been so busy working at…

…You’re glad he shut the door behind him. You’ve been curious – and frustrated – all afternoon. You know he’s been watching you, but he’s hardly reacted at all. Disappointing. He keeps retreating to his den, his computer…what the hell can be so interesting that this dude’s ignoring you?

When you round the corner of the guy’s desk, you can see he’s left his laptop on. It’s gone to screensaver, but one touch on the keyboard brings it back to life.

And suddenly the breath goes out of you. Shit! The picture that comes up shows a girl about your own age on her knees in front of an older man – whose large, swollen cock is shoved deep in the girl’s mouth! The girl getting her mouth raped looks unnervingly like you… As you stand there, gaping, the laptop automatically starts up a slideshow. Each pic is something similar to the first, teenaged girls serving men with their mouths, or being violently fucked… You notice a small icon off to one side, click on it, and a video starts to play – another teenage girl, walking out in the woods, attacked by three men… The video leaves nothing to the imagination as the girl is stripped, beaten, then repeatedly raped, the three men changing holes frequently, until at the end, the miserable girl lies naked and alone in a pool of semen…

Part of you is horrified at what you see. Part of you is intrigued…and aroused?! Without really noticing, your fingers have strayed to your crotch, rubbing yourself through your shorts…