Sarah, Torn

(This story features the assault and psychological abuse of a young woman. Please do not read on if such things disturb you. Creating stories is how I purge my soul of my darkest instincts. Hope reading does the same for you.)

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There are people whose paths you should not cross. I am one of those people, not that you would know it if you saw me. But that is kind of the point.

I am not physically imposing, but I am strong. I speak softly, but I am vicious. I am the last person whose face you would notice in a crowd, but if I have chosen you, mine will be the first face you see when you close your eyes at night. If you don't believe me, you can ask Sarah Torn.

Sarah Torn was just finishing her last semester of high school. She was a tiny little thing, all of eighteen, but even younger on the eyes. Intelligent, bookish Sarah could not wait to get out of her little private high school and out into the world. She wanted to meet people with big ideas and open minds. She wanted to meet people who had seen far-off places and had read great works of literature. She wanted to meet kind people who were as different from the conservative jocks and judgmental little debutantes at Lucretia Bryant Academy as anyone could be. She met me instead.

Sarah was thrilled to reach her eighteenth birthday so that she could get a job at Crystals, the New Age Store in town. She had long been a customer, but the store featured a large erotica section and a tattoo parlor (open twice a week) in the back, and employees needed to be of age to work there. As the owner, Lilith, had promised, Sarah started working there the day after her birthday.

It was there that I saw Sarah Torn. New Age women had always been favorite choices of mine, and the leggy redheaded Lilith had actually first caught my eye and I had tailed her to find her place of work. Soon, I became a regular customer. I sorted out the work schedule and began to construct the plan to ravage the owner. On one of my final visits prior to my intended rendezvous with the unsuspecting thirty-something redhead, Sarah appeared. What a fortunate turn of events for Lilith!

My sights immediately shifted to the naïve little waif behind the counter. I didn't like changes to my meticulous plans, but this was too delicious an opportunity to forego. Sarah was too perfect a target. She walked that thin line between emo girl and New Age hippie wannabe. There was an innocence there waiting to be ripped to shreds.

I found little work to be done in acquiring my new target. Lilith posted the work schedule behind the counter, and she wrote it in a big flowing script that I could easily read from my position at the cash register as I purchased my book of erotic prints. There it was, "May 19th—Lilith 10-4, Sarah 4-Close." Sarah's big brown eyes floated for a moment over the cover of my big book for a moment.

"I love the way she makes the setting work with the lovers," I said, acting as if I were just a little embarrassed to be making such a purchase. "I mean, the relationship across—um--eras and attitudes. She's a—a very insightful artist." Sarah glanced at the cover again, searching for evidence of what I had seen in the book, and at the same time trying to appear as if someone with her obviously limited experience could truly comprehend the subtleties of such sexually charged material. The cover featured a lordly man in the midst of his seduction of a serving wench while the lady of the manor watched from concealment behind a great tapestry. The lady's face twisted with a dark smile.

"Oh, yes. I see what you mean. And is that Zeus and Leda on the tapestry?" She was booksmart, alright. And that made her certain she was handling this right. Bless her soul, she thought she was helping me out and putting me at ease. Even as she did so, there was a slight trace of red in her pale cheeks. She was just a touch excited to be discussing grown-up ideas with grown-ups.

"Yes, exactly the sort of detail she uses. You're an old soul," I said without a hint that I found her to be anything but. "You are perfect for a job in a bookstore. Well—um see you soon—I suppose."

"Yes, I've seen you in here before. Well, we get some new things in every week. Come again."

"Oh, I will. I'm a creature of habit."

She didn't see me again until May 19th. I came in about half an hour before closing, carrying a bookbag as I usually did, and laying it by the door on my way in. Shopkeepers love customers who know enough to check their bags without being asked. As usual, there were no other customers around. Sarah gave me a tiny smile, and I nodded and went right to work pretending to be shopping. This was all normal for her, and she was comfortable. The innocent turned back to her work with no idea what was about to befall her. After about ten minutes, she went into the office to check on something. I moved to the door, called out a soft good night, snatched my bag and closed the door just hard enough to make sure the chimes jingled to signal that someone had left.

I quickly snuck into the restricted section and concealed myself in a blind corner. Now came my favorite part of the set-ups for my little escapades. I loved waiting in a dark corner while the woman I was about to destroy unsuspectingly went about her routines. I lived for that moment when I was suddenly there, and their lives as they had known them were suddenly gone. I was certain that my pale little beauty would not disappoint. There would be terror and tears. I would become something more than a man. I would become the demon that stalked her fears for a lifetime.

In a few minutes, I could hear the deadbolt lock of the front door click into place. Even over the Celtic Woman music being piped softly through the sound system, the finality of the heavy sound was unmistakable. She pulled the metal screen down over the windows, turned off the main lights and headed toward her doom. She was mine now.

She stopped in the doorway of the restricted section and looked in to be sure that it was empty before she turned off the lights. Good girl, locking up exactly the way Lilith did it. Just like the owner had taught her new employee. Sarah shut down the computer and locked the office, double-checking so that her boss would know she could be trusted with the responsibility of closing. She grabbed the cash envelope for the night deposit box and headed for the back door. I let her get deliciously close to the alarm's keypad, but I was inching ever closer in the dark. As she raised her right arm to reach for the pad, I sprung. Her tiny right arm folded so very easily behind her back, and my left hand clamped over both her mouth and her nose. I cranked the arm quickly to the pain point.

"If you try to bite my hand, I'll break your fucking arm," I whispered calmly. "Understand, little girl?"She nodded. "Are you going to scream so that I have to break your neck?" She shook her head. I forced her to her knees. "I'm letting you go in a second. You will turn slowly with your eyes cast down to the floor. Do not try to rise or run. That would be a fatal mistake."

I let her go and stepped back. She breathed heavily. I had cut off her air. She followed every order perfectly. Her tears were running so profusely that I had already felt my hand getting wet. With her left hand she held the money envelope up in the air, still looking down. I snatched it from her with my left. "Raise your eyes," I said. From down on the floor, the tiny quivering girl slowly looked up. There was terror and confusion in her eyes. Delightful. I looked at the money bag and shook my head, tossing it over my shoulder. She finally got it.

"No, please. No." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Put both hands behind your head." She slowly put them where she was told, closing her eyes in denial of the situation. "Open your eyes, Sarah Torn. This is your life, now." She fought to keep them open as she was told, but the tears made it difficult. I reached down to the front of her light, gauzy dress. Even in this position, her breasts barely made a bump in the fabric. She wore no bra. I pinched her left nipple hard.

"Ouch!" she whimpered softly.

"Hurt?"

"Yes."

"Like it?"

"No!"

"Too bad. Lots of things that hurt a little are going to happen to you tonight. If you were the kind that got off on that, you might enjoy it. But then I would only get rougher and rougher until you couldn't stand it. Might even really have to hurt you badly if that were the way you liked it. Hey, this nipple is getting a little hard, but I can't really feel a tip. Do you have puffy nipples, Sarah Torn?" She didn't answer. I grabbed her black hair and twisted her head back as I towered over her. I drew back my hand to strike her. "Do you have puffy nipples?"

She tried to nod. She cast her eyes down in shame. I let her hair go and gently picked up her chin.

"Do have a hairy little pussy, or do you shave it?" She hesitated. I shoved her down on her back and put my forearm at her throat, cutting off her air. "I like questions. I like having them answered. How I get those answers is up to you. I can always strip your naked dead body and find out. Can you imagine what else I might do to your naked dead body?" I released her airflow.

She gasped a few times. "Yes," she managed.

"Yes, hairy little pussy, or yes, you shave it?"

"Yes, hairy."

"Hairy what?"

"Hairy little pussy."

"Changed my mind. I want you to call it a hairy tight little snatch. What is it?"

"A hairy...sob...tight little snatch."

"Ever been fucked there?"

"No."

"Not until now."

This time she really convulsed with sobs before she could finally answer. "Not until...now."

"Sarah, you can't get out of this situation in any way, can you?"

"No."

"Let's go back to the tattoo parlor. There's some nice padded tables and chairs there. Bring the key ring"

She couldn't walk without my help, but she offered no resistance. This one was utterly defeated. I led her to the tattoo parlor and she handed me the keys. I sat her on the long padded table in the middle of the room. I set the backpack down on the floor. No need for my ropes or cuffs with this one. I lifted her dress, and she even leaned on me for support so that I could easily get it up passed her hips and over her head. She wore a little cotton tank top and panties beneath. I sucked on her nipples through the tank top, and could feel her tears dropping down onto my face as I did so. Soon enough, she let her head drop back in surrender. I began to massage the outside of her fleshtone panties, and she gasped slightly.

"Never had your snatch played with have you."

"Not until now."

"By the gods, you do have some hair down there. Fits the whole New Age hippie store image, huh? Sarah Torn, why are you getting wet?" She didn't answer. I pinched her tit hard.

"Ow! Ow!"

"Sarah Torn, why is your hairy little cunt all sopping wet?"

"Can't help it. Can't help it! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You're not apologizing to me, are you?"

"No."

"Fair enough. But it's going to help you that you're such a horny little whore. Your wet cunt is going to feel better than it would if it were dry. Are you ashamed to be such a horny little whore?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to feel more ashamed if your body keeps liking what I'm doing?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful. Fuck sluts should be ashamed." I kept stroking her panties. "This is your fault, you know. I'm very sensitive to women's scents. And when I talked to you, I could smell your pussy. Your body told me that you'd be a little fuck slut. You told me to do this to you."

"Not true," she gasped, fear, shame and arousal now rendering her almost incapable of clear speech.

"Well, you can tell yourself that. But if you survive this, that question will haunt you all your life." I slipped my finger inside her panties and onto the tip of her moist lips.

"Don' wan' die!"

"Then keep being my little toy for as long as I want tonight, and maybe I won't kill you. Maybe."

"P'ease..."

"We'll see. Get down off that table." She slid down. "On your knees, little toy." I jumped up on the table and looked down at her. She nodded sadly and began to reach up to unbutton my slacks. I shook my head. "Pull them down." Experience had taught me that slacks with a little elastic in the waist let me get in and out of situations faster in case of unexpected events. She caught on and pulled them down. I wore no underwear on "date nights," so my erection flopped out toward her. She looked at it in dismay for a second, and then began to timidly kiss the tip. I gave her a moment, but then threw her a disapproving look. She opened her mouth and took my penis in deeply. She went all the way to her gag reflex without being told. I reached down and took her left hand and showed her to pump it. I led her right hand to my scrotum for a massage. Like she was learning new choreography, she fumbled for a moment to put all the elements together, but then found her footing and launched into a well-timed routine. I had been bullshitting her about the natural fuck slut odor, but she was a born cocksucker. I told her the second part several times before I unleashed a load into her mouth, holding her head in place so she had to swallow. When I pulled out she retched and looked at me as if I had somehow broken a trust. I laughed, and she regained her sense of place and situation. She started to cry again. I liked that. I pulled her up and kissed her roughly. She was utterly confused by this and began to kiss me back.

It was time to push forward. I reached down and grabbed her tiny ass, pulling her up so that she knelt astraddle me on the table. She was in shock, now, her physical instincts confusing her mind. For a moment, she might have imagined herself a willing participant, but then I changed the tenor of our little game. I rolled her onto her back, snatched her panties and tossed them on top of my bag. Mine. I ripped her thin tank top off her, leaving a red mark on her pale neck. I pinched her puffy nipples again and she was back to being the terrified little creature I desired. I reached down and thrust my thumb into her wet little cunt and snaked a finger around the corner and up her ass. She cried out loudly for the first time in our entire encounter. "Shut the fuck up, you cum-swallowing little whore!" I snapped, working hard to conceal my amusement. I began to finger her tiny asshole, hard and deep and she groaned softly in pain. I put her knees behind her ears and really went to town on that little ass, fingering it, thumbing it and biting the white little cheeks hard enough to leave some unmistakable hickeys.

"Let's see her explain those in gym class," I mused to myself. This part of the experience did not entice her body in any way. She was miserable and crying. I thought about sticking my dick up her ass, but she was so little that it might leave the type of tell tale injury that would lead to questions, or possible medical attention, and I figured to end this with her being so unwilling to talk about it that I was going to be able to just let her walk. I gave her a couple of good whacks on the backside and then let her roll back a little toward me so I could get my cock into her pussy.

It was still wet enough to let me slide in there without a lot of effort, but my little lover sure did squirm. There was still some of her maidenhead left, and she gasped when I went past it. I gave her body a second to adjust and then began a traditional rough fucking. I pinched and tweaked her nipples, pulled her hair, kissed her roughly and called her filthy names. I had some time to go here; I had cum not long before, and my second one takes a while to build.

"Sarah Torn, you're finally getting that fucking you wanted. I remember when I first met you and decided that I would be kind enough to give it to you. You are such a pretty little fuckslut. Pretty soon, I'm gonna cum deep inside your hairy little cunt. Probably knock you up. Then you'll have to come and live with me forever and we'll do this every night. You'd love that. You love the way I treat you like whore, don't you?"

"Ye—no! No! No!"

"Well...your wet little pussy tells me different. Can't you smell your own juices?"

"Yes."

"You're loving this!"

"Hate this...hate you." I know that a body has things it can't control. Trust me; I've done experiments. But in this case Sarah Torn's body did the thing she least wanted it to do, and at the worst possible time. Her body launched into a bucking, wet orgasm. She collapsed limply onto the table in utter shame. She was telling the truth about hating me and hating what was happening, but her body did things that confused her and mortified her. She was still in that state of total confusion when I emptied my balls deep inside her.

"What a fucking whore!" I declared. "Lying about not loving it while she's cumming hard. Now you're going to tell me you didn't want that load of my seed up in your little snatch. Worst thing is I don't even like you. You're lying there getting raped and cumming while you're nothing but a cum dumpster to me! Fucking little slut. You'll probably have a dozen other dicks inside by the end of the month. No way I'm going to be seen with the town whore. We're breaking up!"

She didn't even look at me after I got up off her. She finally started to cast her eyes about for her clothes, but I already had them. No way I was going to end this with her clothed.

"So, listen little bitch. I got what I came for. And I don't want any little problems afterwards. So, here's the plan. We have a clean break-up and you never talk about this or me again." She didn't look at me. "Your little brother is at Roosevelt Academy, isn't he? A fine elementary school. But the thing is, I'm not into boys. So, if I meet him, we'll have a different kind of fun." She stiffened and turned to look at me with pleading eyes. "Is tonight our little secret?" I asked. She nodded, pleading, naked, torn.

I dropped her dress at the door. "Gee, Sarah, I'm sorry we broke up, but I know I was your first. So I just wanted to say..." I continued in a voice dripping with obvious false warmth "...that you're a real special girl and some day the right guy is going to come along and you'll be happy. I just know it. Don't forget to lock up. Wouldn't want any bad people getting in."