Good Rape Pt. 02

Missy got up off the couch and approached him.

"Stand still, Princess. Don't move."

With her left hand, she took ahold of his arm, up near the shoulder. She had big strong hands and there was no denying that he was being handled.

She smiled at him and he could see the disbelief on her face. He could see the wonder of it all. He could see the joy. He could see the building aggression. He could see her arousal. In two seconds, he saw all of it.

He knew she was going to love slapping him.

He felt despair.

Though he cowered, he did not pull away. He'd been told to stay. He did not even question why that command would matter at all, but it did. He did not want to question something that would lead to a greater beating. He did not want to look in that direction.

He knew that if he made a run for it, they'd get him in seconds. He'd be fumbling with the locks and it would be all over for him.

SMACK

He was momentarily dizzy.

Missy contained her excitement to a smile, and took a deep breath.

"That was lovely, that was wonderful. And we can do this whenever we want?" Disbelief was written all over her face. As if to say: how could life get that good?

"Lover Girl, you can slap him anytime you want."

Missy let go of her hold and quickly slapped him again with her left hand, on the other cheek.

The two felt happiness and joy.

Claudia approached her and gently held and caressed Missy, at the forearm. With a gentle, warm and intimate voice, the voice used when discussing intimacy while laying in bed together; "This is ours. You don't have to ask permission. He's here for us. We can do whatever we want to him. If you feel like slapping him down to the ground, you can, Baby. Whatever you want.

Suddenly, Tim was wide awake.

Any time they want? How do I get out of this? How does this end.

He wondered if they were going to kill him. Certainly, if they did terrible things to him. If they gang raped him, or maybe something worse, they might want to kill him. He was petrified, completely frozen with fear.

"Baby, I love you." The two embraced and kissed. It was gentle and sweet and pretty. It was a delicate intimacy that stabbed at Tim.

"I love you too, Little Missy." They smiled their warm regard for one another as Tim just stood there, utterly incapable of understanding his world.

Smiling with pure joy, "Wanna play, Rape?"

With this, Tim was jolted to life. Until now, he was absorbing events in a sort of daze, overwhelmed by the surreality of it all. He simply could not keep up with it.

Wait, is this a game to them? A game called: Rape?

Quietly, "No."

To the women, he'd made some brief inarticulate utterance.

"You know just how to sweet-talk a girl,"replied Missy.

A bit louder, "No."

"What's that Kitten" asked Claudia. "Did you say something?"

"No." He had to get out, but he needed to take a stand. Last time he just froze. He knew he needed to make himself clear. "No...no, you can't." A bit louder, "You can't do that."

"Oh Princess, of course we can." Happily, "And we absolutely will. I mean, why wouldn't we?"

Tim did not have a response to such an absurd question. "I wanna go now."

"Princess, you came here for what you need."

Trying to suppress his fear and hysteria, "What are you talking about? I need to go."

"You're just feeling a little scared, Kitten. And that's understandable. You should be scared. You are on the edge of another baby-girl tantrum, a princess-fit. Calm yourself.

"If you don't need this, if you don't crave degradation, why would you come here?"

"Because...because..." What he was poised to say turned black and sour in his mouth. "Because we were...I thought... I thought we could be together." He looked at her with a plaintive, broken expression.

With humor and disbelief in equal measure,"You mean, like boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Y...yes." He now saw it as insane.

What was I thinking? How could I come back to this?

"Why aren't you the silly girl!" Claudia laughed with delight, but she also laughed to grind her cigaret out on his ego. "Like really, Princess, how could that be?" She looked him dead in the eye and with seriousness but also a bit of pleasure, "I raped you."

She let that sit as they maintained eye contact. It felt so nice to say out loud, she had to say it again. "I raped you, you silly bitch."

It was out loud. It was out loud between them and with a witness. There was no misunderstanding here, of course it was not a playful figure of speech and never was. It was not justified punishment-sex if there even was such a ludicrous thing. There was no room for self delusion. It was rendered absolutely real.

She raped him.

"I raped you all night long. Raped your ass hard. Long and hard. And now you are back. Why did you come back here if you didn't think I'd do it again? Like, seriously?"

"I...I don't...I'm not sure. I really thought that maybe we could...

"I raped you, slut.

"Okay, here it is, here is why you came back.

Are you ready?"

He was speechless. Whatever she was going to say next, he desperately did not want to hear it.

"Let's get real, Kitten; you are a party-girl. Party-girls get what party-girls need. Party-girls are needy, little girls. Party-girls have cravings. Party-girls come back to the party. You came back to the party because you are just doing what Party-girls do. You crave it. You need the attention and you crave it in your little-girl body. Hot pantied, little fuck-muffin. You...need...my...cock. She bit her lower lip as her face beamed joy and her eyes sparkled.

"You came back to get your rape on. Want that feeling again. Want it good in that tight, little body. Girl needs to be filled.

"Though, when we're done here tonight, things are going to be a little different. You'll see."

Near to tears, "No."

"Yes. Baby girl's gotta get some. You like being roughed up and fucked all night long. You get off on a little rape."

"No."

Missy was now excited. She saw real possibility in this. They might be able to salvage their relationship after all. With a boy like this around, someone they could pour all their aggression into, they might be able to pull this off.

And even if it didn't work, this would prove to be fun. And if this Bacon Grease was what her love told her it was, it would be sustainable fun.

Claudia stepped toward him with her finger-sword pointed toward his face. She was a mother on the edge with her little boy.

He in turn defended himself...by meekly stepping backward.

She walked him back to the living room wall. With her accusatory finger pointing at his face. "You're making me cross, Timothy. You're not telling the truth."

Cowering, "No, I am. Please just let me go."

Releasing her tension, and in a reasonable tone, "Maybe I've misjudged you. Maybe I misread the situation."

She offered him a glimmer of hope. If she knew he genuinely did not want this, she'd call the whole gang-bang off. So blinded by hope, he failed to recognize that rape had nothing whatsoever to do with consent. He clung to hope.

"I feel a little silly. But on second thought, let me test something."

To be reasonable, "Okay, what do you want..."

She slapped him viciously across the face. With her forearm across his throat, slightly compressing his wind-pipe, she reached her other hand down to his crotch.

She took hold of Tim's rock hard, engorged cock. Like before, he was so overwhelmed, he did not know he had an erection.

"Well, well, well, someone told a naughty. Timothy, what happens to little boys who don't tell the truth?"

"I didn't...I don't..."

Claudia put a bit more pressure on his throat, "Careful. Be very careful about what you say next. I'll ask you again, what do little boys get when they tell me a naughty? What to naughty boys always get? Come on now, you know."

Once more he was hard and was the last one to know it.

I am a little boy. My god, what's wrong with me?

He was hard and so very confused. He did not want this. He did not want to be raped. This was clear as anything to him.

But he was turned on.

What if I did get out of here right now? What if I got home?

He looked into her green eyes and he knew; for some reason, he'd still be thinking about her. He'd still want to be with her.

What the fuck has happened to me?

He was on the brink of a panic attack.

I told a naughty.

It was very hard to breath, "They get... Naughty boys get spankings. I'm sorry."

"That's more like it, little one." Pressure came off his throat and she seemed pleased.

While relieved to be able to breath freely, it was somehow more important that he'd pleased Claudia. He was right back to where he was ten days ago.

He was back in survival mode. There was only one way out of this.

Please Her. Please Master. Always. Always please, Master.

*

Raping Time

As they went into Claudia's bedroom, he was left alone.

All he did was glance at the door. It was almost as though he did so to confirm it was still there and otherwise was of no significance. This time around, Tim did not want to acknowledge that escape was an option. The last time he did that, the notion tortured him.

Just survive. Get through this.

He did not think they were going to kill him.

*

As they came back to the living room, Tim recognized, for the first time, a sense of cognitive dissonance just from looking at Claudia. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. He had a hard time reconciling how he felt when he saw her versus what he thought when he saw her.

Objectively, he was two to three inches taller than her and he had to outweigh her by forty pounds. She was easily 5' 9" and probably around 125 or 130 lb of muscular perfection. Yet he could not help but feel smaller than her. No matter what his eyes saw, he was convinced she was bigger and stronger than he was.

He was at once, profoundly attracted to her and uniquely terrified of her. It did not matter if she was smiling, his sense of intimidation was near constant.

His sense of continuous, pending panic was amplified by feeling out of breath when around her. His anxiety caused him to take rapid, shallow breaths which only contributed to his general anxiety.

He felt himself inching away from them yet he was corralled by a sense of helplessness.

She saw his fear of her and was over joyed. Her body was flush with blood and adrenaline.

Coming up on him, "Who's our little party-girl?"

It was happening all over again. He was spinning.

Cowering, he folded his arm before him, un-intentionally in a sort of prayer position, in an unconscious effort to comfort and protect himself. Fear contorted his face and he bent slightly at the waist dropping his height further. Without consideration, he was instinctively signaling his submissive status to the dominant women.

Claudia recognized it at once as what the beta wolves do when they position themselves physically beneath the alpha female. She reasoned correctly that he likely had no idea that he was attempting to signal to them that he was a defenseless, non-threat.

He was not going to fight for his safety, for his physical integrity or his autonomy. He simply hoped they'd not hurt him.

Neither woman needed an overt signal because they did not care. Even if he tried to fight them off, they were going to rape the boy.

They invaded his space with a slow, graceful, languid ease. They did so with a relaxed pleasure. They were taking their due.

They touched him gently and sent his mind reeling.

The message was clear: we can do this. We can do this to you. There is no "you" anymore.

They were killing Tim.

He'd been severely damaged by what he'd endured here on the rape-floor 10 days before. He'd been savaged by Claudia, mind and body. Yet there had been something left of him, some vestige of his previous self. He was not sure they'd allow him any sense of self after tonight. His mind might just disintegrate with the raping.

He remembered: I'll always own a part of you.

He felt it, just then. It was not a physical restraint but something much more profound. He felt it as a spiritual tether that may well prove to be unbreakable.

There was something about her that he needed and he could not figure out how or why and did not even want to consider what it was.

The "what" was the most intimidating question.

She kissed him on the cheek and he could not help a startled, sudden intake of breath.

Missy touched his back and ran her hands down to his waist and took command of his hips.

She'd been here before. Some years ago, she'd terrorized another boy, another Timmy. It was an unexpected and unusual experience that had intrigued her and drew her to the possibility of boy-rape.

When Claudia had confided in her that it had always been a fantasy of hers, Missy related.

Claudia put her cheek on his and spoke quietly in his ear, "Come on, baby-girl. Let's go in the bedroom. Let's go for a ride."

Once more, he drew in another frightened and sudden intake of breath.

Holding his hips, Missy leaned in and spoke into his other ear. "Girl's gotta get some. Come on, party-girl, let's party."

"Please...please don't hurt me." He began crying anew and it only made each of them as happy as could be.

Claudia reached for Missy and pulled her in close.

Missy thought her lover had never looked hotter than she did in that moment. Her beauty, unfiltered aggression and open arousal nearly took Missy's breath away.

They were two peas in a pod.

Up close, eyes half mast but laser focused, "See?"

Missy did see. She very much saw the immediate possibilities. "I love you."

"I think we can be together. That's my hope. This is for us, Lover."

Claudia smiled and the two kissed passionately.

*

"It's okay, Cupcake, if you need to cry, go ahead and let it out. Let it all out," encouraged Claudia.

Missy, "Wanna tart her up?"

Claudia smiled broadly and brightly.

Missy took Tim by the wrist and began leading him into the bedroom. "Let's cry in the bedroom, Kitten."

*

His mortification is what roused him from his dissociative shock.

They told him to go into the bathroom and to put on what they gave him. It was appalling. He stood before the mirror in formfitting, woman's booty shorts that only contained him in the front because of how skin tight they were. He wore a pink, skin tight t-shirt that revealed most of his mid-drift and which bore the pronouncement, CANDY on the back.

He could not go out like this!

"Hurry up, Princess. Let's go! Chop-chop!"

He flinched, startled by their impatience but he could not stop staring at himself in the mirror. Once more, he felt a part of himself stripped away.

Frightened of the implications of keeping them waiting, he pivoted to look at his butt in the mirror.

Does it look good?

He actually thought it did. Pivoting further, he put his hands under each cheek and lifted. Though all muscle, it had some heft and seeing it for the very first time in shorts of this kind, noticed it had some pop.

God, it actually does look good.

Does it?

He was having a hard time trusting his eyes. He found it difficult to objective view his own body. Especially his ass.

This is what happened to girls all the time as they were taught that their bodies were to be desired by others. Their bodies were their own, but they needed to be pleasing to men and superior to other women. Their looks mattered greatly. As their bodies became things too, girls began to lose perspective and with that loss came obsession and for some, body dysmorphia.

His hips looked odd and he realized his ass looked a little like a woman's.

Looks fucking good! Like, I'd want that ass if I saw it on a girl.

Will she like it? Does it look good?

Looks bigger. Is it bigger?

Pivoting while staring:

It has to be. Is it too big?

His erection was shameful for so many reasons, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd been here before.

He did not know why, but he was hard. They were abusing him and for reasons beyond his imagining, his cock was rock hard.

*

Felicity looked like a model and she bore a gentle smile on her exquisite face. "His penis will grow."

Elle's mouth dropped in indignation.

*

And it looks big.

It looked really big. He knew it had to be because of how impossibly hard it was coupled with the shorts that seemed to offer a visual contrast that made his cock and ass look bigger than they actually were.

As he emerged from the bathroom, he folded one arm up in front of him, over his chest and the other hand came down over his crotch. Standing right in front of them, he seemed to be trying to shrink and hide.

"Well look at this! Your little-boy, baby dick looks bigger." She smiled with his discomfort.

She sees it too! Is it?

The women were sitting on the end of the bed next to 3 quite large dildos and a hairbrush. Immediately they stood, approached him and resumed their intimate molestation of his body and mind.

Leaning into one ear, "Hot, little bitch...."

And into his other, "Party girl's gotta have it..."

"Needy girl..."

"Whore..."


"Slut..."

"Header queen..."

"Sex candy..."

All the while, they touched, pinched, tickled and scratched is body.

It was all too much. "No. Please don't."

Missy patted his bottom and he startle jumped.

This of course thrilled the women and they laughed their appreciation.

She kept her hand on his ass and it was getting really hard to breath.

Missy pushed her hand deep in his crotch and ran it smoothly up his crack from behind.

His knees got week and he almost collapsed but the women caught him by th elbows and steadied him.

The sensation was highly disturbing and he told himself it was just because it was such an intimate violation. Yet it was much more than that.

"Please don't do this to me," he begged.

More profound violation was imminent.

They brought him to the bed and pushed him down. Peering down at his legs, Claudia straddled his mid section and while sitting atop the bed, Missy stripped him of his shorts.

Tim bent his legs up to hide his nakedness.

"Down, now!"

They began slapping his legs until he complied.

Laying flat with Claudia on his chest, he could not relax but he did obey.

Missy pinched his big penis with thumb and index finger, inspecting it like a scientist. She beamed her delight and marvel at her lover. There was a silent communication between the two: can you believe this? He's terrified but look how hard he is?

She released it. Then she slapped it hard.

Tim screamed and once again brought his knees up.

The ladies laughed. Looking at one another, Claudia nodded in the affirmative.

They worked to get his legs down once more and in position. Missy straddled his legs right at his knees before she slapped his penis again.

After screaming a second time, "Quiet, Kitten; I have neighbors." She put her hand over his mouth and leaned back resting her weight on his face. She turned her attention back to the show.

Missy slapped again. And again. And again...

The women leaned forward and kissed. When they broke their kiss, they admired each other and each felt nothing but love and adoration for the other.

He'd taken his penis slaps about as well as could be expected, so she thought they both deserved a treat. She scooted back and sat on his face.

She still had her panties on and relaxed fully on her throne. And for a moment, she felt like a queen. Claudia was a serious woman. Yet she still had a hidden little girl within. In that moment, she looked just like her sister Elle. They were identical twins, but nobody who knew them was ever confused as to which was which.

For a moment, Tim's sense of vulnerability was put aside. It was very hard to breath but there was a strange and unexpected comfort in this. His hands shot to her smooth, muscular thighs and...gently encouraged her her somehow relax more fully on his face. As she wiggled down on his face, fitting it more completely in her crotch, he suddenly felt on the verge of an orgasm. He could still feel the sting in his hard penis, but it did not matter. He was so close...