A “Lost” Damsel Tale {Continued From Here}

He felt the smooth skin there and got an even greater rush. He pulled down the obstruction along her wonderfully sleek, shapely legs, yanking off her shoes in the process.

Her panty remained: a French-cut lace panty that told him that Eve was the real deal: a natural, sexy beauty who enjoyed being a girl. He grabbed the sides of the delicate panties and slipped them quickly off as well as Eve's eyes fluttered and one hand started to weakly twist.

Without caring, the man pulled down his own pants, pushed his way between her legs, grabbed her hips beneath her skirt, and directed his already erect cock toward the trimmed, silken triangle between her exceptional legs.

He was in—her lax, shocked vaginal muscles rolling back, then tightening, around his impaling member.

Even in her semi-conscious state Eve felt the intrusion, her head going back into the couch cushions, her hand fluttering up, and a long moan emanating from her slack lips.

Wilma pushed the zapper against the right side of Eve’s right breast through her matching, scalloped, demi-bra, and pressed the button.

Eve's torso stiffened, then collapsed on the sofa. Her hips and legs were off the cushions and the floor as the man gathered them up and started thrusting unceremoniously inside her.

Eve's upper body, head, and arms jerked on the couch as Wilma went over and turned on the television. The room with rap music. As the singers rhymed about how great they were, how big they were, and how all women were bitches or hos, to a brutal bass beat, the man raped the young semi-conscious beauty in the flicker of their images.

Near the end of his fuck, Eve started to become aware again. She subconsciously realized that her skirt was at her waist, how her satin and lace bra cups were pulled down to present her firm, high, tear-drop tits, and how her arms and mouth flopped free.

What she didn't realize was that her head was resting on the tween's lap.

She started to reach, she started to cry out, and she started trying to pull her thighs from the wrapping of her rapist's arms. But then Wilma reached down, gripped the base of her right breast like a balloon, squeezed, then lightly touched the zapper to the very tip of her pumped up nipple.

There was a spark and a snap, and Eve's back arched practically into a "U," thrusting her hips up to slam and lock into the rapist's. Her teeth clenched, her eyes squeezing shut as a giant hand seemed to clamp onto her head and torso.

Then the sweet young thing went limp again and the man finally ejaculated a long, thick stream of cum all the way inside her. The man gripped her hips and thighs as if clutching a flying dancer, and bent deep over her chest, grunting. His eyes filled with her, and suddenly he clamped his mouth on a quivering tit, using it to hold them in the climatic position.

Finally his mouth came off her pink aureole and tiny nipple with a wet, audible pop, and his hands and arms dropped to his side. Eve fell back, half on and half off the couch. She started to slide onto the floor but Wilma grabbed her bitten breast to keep Eve on her lap.

As her sparkling eyes fluttered and her assaulted body shook, the teen deftly began to rub her fingers across Eve’s warm, red, flaccid lower lips.


Rap had segued into a head banger's ball and, as heavy metal men screamed about how bleak and hopeless life was, Eve crouched on her knees and high heels in the center of her mattress, her head down, her lustrous hair making a curtain before her sweating face.

Her ankles were roped, and roped again to her exposed thighs. The bottom of her face was obscured by a tight elastic swath of slightly gleaming cloth, covering a swash of plaster tape that sealed her lips from her nose to neck and from ear to ear. Inside her mouth was a big ball of her pantyhose. It completely filled her oral cavity, blocking the throat and absorbing almost any sound.

Her shirt was tugged down to her elbows, her bra ripped off, and ropes, which were wrapped around her torso, pressed down and up on her breasts, strangling them forward like toothpaste forced from a tube. Her fingers were behind her, pinioned in the middle of her back by the torso and wrist ropes. Her hands were filled with the man’s cock. His hands were filled with her tits as Wilma continued to hurl clothes from Eve’s closets.

"Have you seen these things?" she exclaimed, throwing the plunging green lace micromini onto the bed. "It's like we bought them for her!" Over flew a purple spandex micromini with a teardrop cutout breast panel. "And look at these shoes," she marveled. "All strapped, all high heeled, all stiletto...." Wilma started going through Eve’s bureau drawers. "Man, oh, man...," she breathed, filling her eyes and hands with the aqua lace underwires, the frilly pink briefs, and the red thong teddies.

"Keep stroking, bitch," the man warned quietly, taking a moment to press the cold side of a wicked butcher's knife against the right side of her right breast as Eve moaned. "You gotta get me off before I start cutting."

She looked up in agony as Wilma approached, her hands filled with Eve’s things. "You're the world's most perfect fucktoy, you know?" she said happily, drinking in Eve’s youthful beauty while dropping the lingerie.

Eve's head went back, her wet eyes desperately searching the ceiling, her cheeks swelling with air, her nostrils burbling, as she fought against sobs.

From the apartment door it looked like one figure with four legs bathed only in the flickering of the TV screen. The man surged until his cum dotted Eve's chest, face, and hair. Then Wilma pushed Eve’s face down to the mattress, and inserted her fingers in Eve’s soft, wet cunt from behind.

Eve's cheek scraped along the bed covers, her eyes squeezed shut, until her profile was to her defilers. Wilma reached down and grabbed Eve’s abused tits. Only then did the man step away. Wilma forced Eve to the mattress on her side, her mouth still sealed, her strong, high tits free, and her rear exposed. Her long legs were bent, her shoes still on, and her arms were still bent high up her back. Her captive sexiness was stunningly exciting in the glimmer of the TV light.

And she remained that way for five minutes until rain started to fall. She twitched when the first drop hit her face just beside her closed eyes. She blinked, staring up, just in time to be hit between the eyes and on the chest with more white, sticky droplets.

Eve moaned horribly, stretched in her bonds, then finally started to convulse.


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