Kevin's Hurt

"Come on, he's a big boy, of course he understands," I said.

"He was disgusted."

"He didn't even see anything."

I picked up the dildo and put it on her lap. Emma grabbed it and threw it aside. I kept holding her, so she gave in, but sat facing away from me. I blew in her ear.

"He was disgusted," she said again after a bit of silence.

"Of course he wasn't. He loves you," I whispered in her ear. "He cares about you. And so do I."

Emma turned away from my kiss, so I kissed her neck. She sat there with an unforgiving look as I slowly pulled her top off her breasts, milky melons that they were. When I pinched both her nipples and twisted them gently between my fingers, she let out a gasp, but kept the stern look on her face. I had to think something up.

"Well, actually, I had something in mind today. I want to take you somewhere. Can you guess where?"

"No."

I put my hands on her thighs. She didn't resist, but tried her best not to respond.

"Let's go to the bar where we met. Let's go there together, the two of us. Will you go with me?"

I made a kissing sound near her cheek. She turned to me and looked me in the eyes, then closed her eyes and kissed me back. Half an hour later I got to parade Emma in front of her son in her wearing a cocktail dress, heels, night-out makeup, and we spent the rest of the day adventuring here and there, including the one "our" bar, and especially in the latter place's restroom, where Emma - as bad a drinker as ever - ended up blowing me in front of some stranger and then rolling up her dress and offering herself to me as she bent over a urinal.

***

I wasn't a man with a plan. I thought that I've done everything that I wanted, as Kevin's life was already more or less ruined. Not only was my relationship with his mother obviously degrading to him, but, ours being a small town, at this point our mutual acquaintances sometimes made fun of him openly, congratulating him on his new-found "dad" and the like. Wimp that he was, Kevin stood there and took it all. I often had dinner at their house, after which, obviously, I always took his mother upstairs. I expected that his girlfriend wouldn't suffer the social disaster of having a relationship with him for much longer, either. Was that equivalent to ruinous humiliation and pain that my sister experienced at his hands? Absolutely not. But it was quite something in its own right.

Kevin didn't seem to have any friends. At least none visited him when I was at his house. The only visitor he ever had was his girlfriend, and she only came a couple of times. I met her once in the house. I was fresh from Emma's bed, who was still in the shower. Taken a bit by surprise as I wasn't expecting a visitor in there, and also because I was only wearing a towel, I blurted out a pointless "hi." She looked at me and didn't respond. As it turned out later, she was the one person Kevin confided in, so she had a very poor opinion of me. Emma, meanwhile, didn't like her at all and thought that the "rocker girl" was far undeserving of her cute and intelligent son. Except your son is a rapist, I thought as I reached into her shorts.

Some time later I heard about Kevin's girl again. Turns out the son was in a habit of sometimes asking his mother to spend a couple of hours outside in order to have the house for himself and his girl. Most of the times, Emma called up one of her girlfriends and went somewhere with her, but now she had me for that kind of thing. "Of course, I fully understand," said the slightly upset Emma as she sat in my car. Since she was understanding like that, I took her to a hotel, where we spent the evening fucking. I did ask her at one point, however, why the heck would they need a whole freaking house to shag.

"Aw, don't ask me," she said, but then continued, "this Rachel girl's into some, you know, stuff."

"Oh really? Like what?"

"Disgusting. Whipping and stuff."

" Oh really. o she whips him?"

"Of course she doesn't. If she touches my boy with a finger, I'll whip her myself."

"She's the one getting whipped, then?"

"Change the subject!" she said, but added, "Yeah, she's apparently into that, yeah. Kevin keeps some stuff at home for her. Well, some sluts just need to be taught a good lesson sometimes." She smiled at me and asked for a kiss with her lips.

So Kevin's found himself a whipping girl. No need to rape anymore, huh. Very convenient, you piece of shit. I pinned Emma to the bed and pushed her legs apart with my knee.

"Oh, did I inspire you?" she said in a throaty voice.

She did, but in a different way that she probably thought. So, Kevin's girlfriend was into weird sex. Now I had a chance to do something new, and I wasn't going to miss it. This Rachel of his wasn't ugly either.

"You're so hard," whispered Emma under me. "Do you want me? Come fuck me, Daniel. Want to fuck my ass?"

"Turn over," I said, and she eagerly did.

I held her hips and slowly but steadily worked my way up her backdoor. We put a pillow under her tummy so she wouldn't get tired, and, with my whole length resting up her asshole, I reached forward and grabbed her hair. Emma groaned and forced her backside at me.

"Tell me how you want it, you little slut."

"Fuck me!" she moaned. At moments like this her voice almost completely changed.

"Tell me how you want it."

"I want it in my ass."

"Louder, you little skank."

"I said I want it in my fucking ass."

I gave her a generous slap and fulfilled her request.

***

In a couple of days I was able to encounter Rachel. When she was leaving, I followed her.

"Rachel, please, for a second."

She turned around, saw me and immediately crossed her hands on her chest.

"Just a word," I said.

"No. We have nothing to talk ab--"

I grabbed her and pinned her to the wall.

"Just a word, Rachel."

"I'll scream!"

"You don't need to," I said, moving a bit away from her, but still having her completely at my disposal. "You're not in danger yet. Just a word."

She looked scared, could almost hear her heart beating. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Here, take this. It's a cellphone number." I showed her a slip of paper and put it into her hand. She didn't take it, so I pushed the slip into her cleavage, making it lodge between her firm little tits.

"I'm going to call the police!"

"I said you don't need to. You aren't in danger. Unless you call that number, that is. Then you are."

Puckering up her lips, Rachel stuck two fingers between her tits and, pulling out my paper, threw it on the ground. I followed its flight with my eyes. Then I looked at Rachel, and my look must have scared her shitless. She audibly whimpered. Slowly I rose my hand to her face and then gave her a harmless, but sharp slap on the cheek.

"Pick it up."

"Oh my god..."

"Pick it up."

Her eyes wide and breath shallow and audible, Rachel took a step towards the slip of paper, crouched, picked it up, returned to where she was and gave it to me.

"No, you keep it."

Still looking me in the eyes like a rabbit in front of a python, she glacially, as if in slow motion, stuck it awkwardly back in her cleavage. Her breasts rose, her lips were now moist. I could see her eyes look me over from head to toe. The woman in front of me was unmistakably horny. Chances are, if I wanted to, I could have probably fucked her right here on the street.

The people he's sprung from, the people that he surrounds himself with, - how easy a rapist's world crumbles under littlest of pressures! I let Rachel go, but the next very day I had a call from an unknown number, and it was her.

"It's Rachel," she said, and I heard her breath in the mic like a child.

"It's Daniel. Glad to hear you." She was silent. "Are you free today at nine?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll send you an address. Come there at nine. Tell me, do you have a favourite toy?"

Breath, breath, breath, "Like what?"

"Like a lash or a paddle, Rachel."

"No," she said.

"I see. So, how about today at nine? But do understand. By coming you give your permission."

Breath, breath. "Permission to what?"

"To whatever needs be. Goodbye, Rachel. See you at nine."

"Goodbye."

She hung up. Then I texted her the address of a hotel. I've actually looked up a thematic hotel - there was one in our town, - but I decided against it. Instead I picked a room in an ordinary shady establishment where no questions are asked - we've been there with Emma. Then I purchased some minor gear - I really didn't know much about the subculture Rachel may have been quite knowledgeable at, so trying to directly impress her would most have most likely failed either way. Instead, I bought a simple lash, a leash, a ball gag and a ring gag, a blindfold and two pairs of handcuffs. Then I called Emma and moved our date to next week.

I was exercising some caution. I booked a room by phone and waited in my car near the building. At nine there was nobody. I could see the hotel clerk stand at the door and light up a smoke. Ten minutes past nine she still wasn't there. If she tricked me or chickened out, I would get to try all my new arsenal later on Emma, I thought to myself. At a quarter past nine Rachel slipped out of a taxi, wearing a black shirt with a stylized skull on her chest, some heavily torn jeans that sat very tight on her boyish butt, and her straight, pitch-black hair done in a high ponytail. She was carrying a small girly bag and nothing much else. I saw her look at her phone, then at the address plate. I got out of my car, carrying my bag of gear with me, and walked up to her.

"Hello," I said, touching her waist.

She nervously turned to me, saying nothing.

We went inside, I paid up-front, took the key, and we went upstairs. The hotel was shabby, its mid-twentieth century look and feel rather depressing. Heavy wooden doors had new locks, though. Someone appeared from the room, looked at us and quickly returned. Near our room I opened the door and motioned for Rachel to enter. I followed, locking the door behind us.

The room wasn't cramped, but it wasn't at all comfortable. There was a clean, but incredibly used bed almost in the center of it, there was a cabinet with a lamp on it, some handles broken, a chair and a door to what must have been the shower. The dim yellow lamp was the only real source of light, as the window was completely hidden by asphalt-coloured shutters - seemed like whoever fucked here last did not want to be seen.

Rachel stood in the middle of the room, facing me as if expecting an attack of some sort, her arms crossed tight. I walked past her and placed the bag on the bed.

"What's in it?" she said. Her voice was cold and reserved.

"Some toys."

She looked at me. "I also brought one." Then she puckered her lips like a grumpy old lady and opened her bag. Out of it appeared a gray teddy bear.

"Here," she said as she gave it to me. "It's a toy. It's my favourite." She looked at me with a mix of disgust in her eyes and perhaps even anger.

I took the bear and looked it over. It was no toy for bondage. Just a toy stuffed animal. I eyed the young woman in front of me - she has assumed her hands-crossed position again - and thought about what tis could've meant. She was making a statement. Was she trying to shame me? Was she trying to...

Then I thought harder. Looks like she was more complex than Kevin's dear horny mother. Perhaps it wasn't a statement. I looked at her face, at her little tits squeezed under her arms, at her belly button peeking from under her top, at the soft vulnerable skin of her legs visible through the rips in her jeans. The bear in my arms was most likely a test, or a challenge, or both.

I looked at her, then back at the bear, took it's fluffy head, and in one solid motion I ripped it apart. grayish stuffing rained down like intestines. I let the two parts of the mutilated toy fall down on the floor at her feet. Then I looked at Rachel. She was motionless, staring, her hands uncrossed and hung by her sides. She was standing there, looking down at her bear. Did I win? I opened the bag and pulled out a gag. With it in hand, I walked to Rachel.

"Open up."

She was still looking down at her toy. Slowly her lips started parting until her mouth was open. I put in the gag, buckled it's little belt on the back of her head, took Rachel by the hand and violently flung her onto the bed.

"Kevin, you little shit," I told him when we next met and his mom wasn't around. "Are you aware that I've fucked Rachel a couple of days ago? She was pretty good. Oh, you better believe that I have. I took her to a hotel room and I gave it to her real good. No, listen, I've had the most fun since I fucked your mother in a public restroom. Rachel's a kinky little whore. I gagged her, I tore off her panties, I bruised her little ass. Then I whipped her with a really nice leather lash I've bought specially for her, you know? As a present. I held her down and whipped her bloody until she was ready..."

"You're lying. You're full of fucking shit now, Daniel," was all he could say.

"Shut it. You know how wet Rachel's cunt gets when you she's getting hurt? Well, maybe you do. You like hurting girls, don't you, Kevin, you little shit. Well, I pinned her down, threw her legs apart, twisted her arms behind her back and fucked her little cunt deeper than you ever could. I loved how it felt, you know how nice it is, don't you? It's even better than your mother's. And Rachel loved taking it, even when it hurt - hey, especially when it hurt, and I promise you that it fucking did. I fucked her and hurt her however I pleased, and she kept asking for more. When I came, I fed her the spunk from my condom, put on another and got right back to it. Halfway through I put it into her ass. I made her gape. Have you seen Rachel gape, you little fuckstain? Then we went to the shower, I took her gag out and she washed my cock and sucked it off. No, Kevin, listen, you know what the asked me to do? She asked me to hold her face in the toilet bowl and fuck her like that. And I did. Her hair was soaked in somebody's piss, the two of us went wild, you know? Rachel is wild. Every time I thought I was overdoing it, she would look at me with those puppy dog eyes an say, 'Hurt me.' So I held her down on the floor with my leg and pissed in her face. I chained her to a tube, fetched my leash and put it to use until she was bawling and pissing and coming. What? You didn't know she was so into that? She was constantly rising the stakes, rising stakes is what little Rachel does best. She is tough. Oh, she never let you do any of that? That's because you're a fucking weakling, kid. Have you seen that bear? Well--"

"How the fuck do you know about the fucking bear?"

I laughed.

"Quit your denial. Well, as I was fucking her ass a second time, I let her hold the shreds of that bear. She was crying and clutching them to her breast. With a cock in her ass; that was her favourite. What? What, Kevin, what, you have something to say? What's that fit, are you going to cry now, too? Is that your bawling face?"

"Well," Kevin said shaking all over and standing up. "Sounds... almost... exactly like I've fucked your Dana." Suddenly his face contorted into a hideous grimace. "I fucked her and hurt her, Daniel, and know what? She came, your shitty little sister fucking came on my cock as she begged me to stop, Daniel, she came, and I raped her again and again, and beat her ugly face bloody until she couldn't cry anymore. I should have fucking killed her, I fucking promise, I promise you, Daniel, that I fucking will: I will fucking kill her, I'll rape her and murder, like I already have, she's fucking dead, she'll shit herself as she dies, and I'll keep on raping. Your sister is dead this time, Daniel, you bitch! I will fuck her to death! Are you gonna enjoy that? I will tear her cunt open and fuck her to death and I'll come in her corpse!"

Kevin was screaming. His eyes shone, his cock made a desperate tent of his pants. His hands didn't clutch into fists, but got crooked into claws. And, wrapped in a towel, Emma was standing in terror behind him.

Since Kevin was never on trial, he could be put to it now. And his own mother testified about that diatribe - because she was so scared, and because I told her that he was a good boy and needed to repent, and that he would have been jailed regardless, and that she had a duty as mother to help him finish this horrible page of his life so that he could start all anew before he becomes a life-long etc. etc. In a word, I tricked her once again, this time to testify against her own son of all things, but wasn't there also some truth to my words? But revenge is not necessarily about fairness. Be as it may, she testified, and, although he never confessed, he was ultimately found guilty. Thus, he went to jail.

I still dated Emma, which I didn't have to hide from my sister anymore, as Kevin's mom was now locally held a very brave mother for doing what she has done, bless her soul. Rachel, too, stayed an on-and-off fuckbuddy of mine for a while. But that was not the end of it.

***

I paid Kevin a visit. That was the one crime I've committed. But Kevin never reported me, and nobody else bothered since nobody cares for rapists.

The moment he saw me he promised again that the day he was out my sister was dead. Then the guard said to me:

"You still doing it, then?"

I said, "Sure am."

"You have fifteen minutes," said the guard. He walked out of the room and locked the door from outside.

I a bag on the table - the same bag that I used to carry the "toys" to my first night out, if you can call it that, with Rachel. I turned it over, and girly clothes spilled out.

"What the fuck is this shit?" said Kevin.

"I see the prison has taught you some interesting language," I said, stood up and shot a tazer at him.

Kevin let out an interesting sound and toppled onto the floor. I caught him, tazed him again for good measure and then started taking off his garb. The plan really was very simple. I stripped him completely naked, holding him down a bit, although that wasn't really necessary - my tazer was good. His wimpy pale body was like a puddle of snow on the dark concrete floor. Then I fished out a pair of pink frilly panties and pulled then on him. A tight orange top and a short green skirt ended up looking great on this effeminate shit. His blond hair was short, but pretty and thick. Then I got him to put on a pair of stockings, and lo and behold, in front of me was a cute teenage girl. True enough, she was lying in fetal position and drooling, but I quickly helped "her" up and positioned "her" near the table.

"You can't talk, little shit, but of course you can listen. When you get out of jail, you will not come back to the town. Because, if I see you, I'll see to it that you life becomes hell. Kevin, are we understood? But I will have to drive my point home, so here goes, cutie pie."

I grabbed his hair and forced him over the table, then spread his legs wider apart with my knee and rolled up his skirt. Kevin was almost hairless, his hips wide, and his ass had an almost pretty round shape. Only the tiniest bulge in the frilly pink panties betrayed that Kevin was actually male. Said panties I did rip apart and, after I put on a condom--

"Kevin, you dumb little stain, is this for real? Are you really fucking hard?"

He couldn't talk, but looked at me sideways. His expression was incomprehensible. I could see he was drooling. But his little cock was erect, sticking like a hairless upside-down soldier into the dirty top of the chamber's table.

"Well, you're gonna love this then, Kevin," I said, spreading his asscheeks, and, without getting him ready or easing him in like I did with his mother and even Rachel, I shove it in raw right into his girly, pale round ass. And I fucked him all-out. His whole body shook, his girly ass quivered, the skirt on his waist was getting twisted and tangled. I fucked him so hard that it took me but a couple of minutes to finish. When I was done, I pulled out and gave him a spank. Kevin's panties and stockings were ripped, his ass gaping. He sobbed.