kained
Ryonani Teamster
- Joined
- Dec 26, 2009
It sure takes some time and energy to get these chapters out. What's weird is that hardly a week goes by where I'm not thinking about how to progress this story, and I'm full of ideas for it. Getting around to actually writing it is the hard part. MS Word isn't working at all for me at the moment, don't be surprised if this chapter features some unusual spelling mistakes.
Copied and pasted from the intro in my previous chapter -
Any constructive criticisms are always appreciated. As always, I'm looking for collaborators. Anyone who can draw and enjoys my work, if you could draw stuff to go with the stories that would be awesome. Maybe if you guys know someone on deviantart or something, you could ask for me.
Bio and Chapter 1 - http://www.undertow.club/showthread.php?t=1004
The Adventures of Teen Girl - Chapter 2 - http://www.undertow.club/showthread.php?t=1409
The Adventures of Teen Girl - Chapter 3 - http://www.undertow.club/showthread.php?t=1500
Standard warning - Story is intended for people of legal age to read. Contains adult themes and extreme violence against women.
Megan's consciousness swims in a dank sea of darkness thick with the stentch of dust and sweat, her sleeping mind is pervaded with the violent imagery of Raptor beating on her, her emotions are waves upon the rocks. She can't bring her mind to the surface to wake from her nightmare. Not yet.
Ross holds the cheek of the young girl, her body draped across a concrete floor, wrapped in heavy chains, illumination coming from a single swaying bulb high on the ceiling. She is angelic, Ross thinks. The pretty girl looks oddly at peace in her slumber, her eyelids closed shut, her breathing slow and shallow. Her nose wrinkles as she lets out the occasional sigh, her head shaking lightly, hinting at her disturbed dreams.
When carrying her to the boot of his car, the balding teacher had the girl wrapped in a blanket - he briefly considered dropping the young girl at a hospital, then thought better of it. She had looked pretty banged up, blood seeping from her ravaged vagina, from the wounds on her face. Her right hand was hanging awkwardly on her wrist and she was covered head to toe in brusies, dirt, and cum. But Ross' own selfish nature got the better of him. He would never again have this opportunity to have the teenager totally at his whim, he believed. If this was to be her last night on Earth, then it would be with him. And so, he placed her in the boot of his car, along with what he found of her costume, then he made the drive home quickly.
When he got her down to the basement he had decided he would clean her up. As much as to get the disgusting thick cum off her as anything. But first he needed to secure her. Using rubber gloves, he wiped some of the sloppy cum off her body as he placed her costume back on her body, her tight shorts, followed by her ripped top. There was something about the costume, in his own mind, that added to her alure. With the costume back on, he set out on the hard work of dragging heavy chains out from his DIY closet in the back of the basement. He placed her arms behind her back, wrapping her wrists in a layer of chains, then wrapped more layers of chains around her waist and back before fastening them in place with a heavy set of padlocks. Then he rolled out a heavy iron ball attached to a an iron anklecuff, attaching it tightly to her ankle. All of this equipment was obtained some years before rather expensively from various sources. Needless to say Ross is a man who has been up to no good for some time. Megan isn't the first girl to end up in the old man's basement.
The next thing he did was drag a hose down to the basement from his garden. With her confidently secured, he hosed her down. He had to soak her head to toe several times over to get the inhumanly thick cum off of her. The grim and dirt had been sufficiently cleaned from her body, as well as the blood from her face and cunt. To his own curiousity, the wash had done nothing to wake the girl from her deep slumber.
Now, he gently brushes his large hand over her soft cheek as she murmers below him. Her black hair is drenched and sticking to her own face and the floor. A nose that hours before was definately broken in several places, now has one single cut at the ridge. A face that had been badly puffed out from bruising had now reformed to its previous perfection, only minor cuts remaining. He wonders to the extent to which she can recover. She is undescribably cute in her sleep, her long eyelashes closed tightly, her tan skin so soft at his touch. He can feel his hardon growing at the sight of the sexy teenager in her ravaged costume, wrapped in her bondage of chains, soaked head to toe. He contains himself long enough to find his digital camera, and sets her mask carefully to the side on the floor. He takes off his trousers and filthy underwear, and kneels down on the floor, placing his measley wrinkly 4 inch cock at Megan's pouty lips. With one hand he lifts up her head, with the other he operates the camera, taking pictures as he wipes his dick on her face and lips, the strong flash capturing the scene every few moments. He places the camera down briefly, and uses his hand on her jaw to get her mouth open. There is a slight audible crack as he does this, her jaw still broken in one place. In her sleep she lazily lets her mouth hang loose as with ease he places his cock into the warmth of her teenage mouth. His hand is free to operate the camera again, after every few pictures he looks at the display screen - it looks as though she's willingly sucking him off, his pubic hair rubbing against her little nose, her mouth gently allowing him in. Better than that, any friend of Megan's can easily identify her in the pictures.
Ross lifts up her little black mask, placing it over her eyes. Ridiculous that this is enough to obscure her identify, he thinks. Nevertheless, he continues to thrust his tiny cock in and out of her open mouth, his dick wet with her saliva, taking pictures the entire time. It's too much for him - he places the camera on the ground, using both hands to grip the back of her head, trying as hard as he can to fuck her face. A difficult task with a small penis, the effect is basically of him rapidly dipping his dick in and out of her waiting mouth. If he thrusts real hard, he can feel her tongue on the tip of his dick. The site of her soft, perfect body, the idea of gathering all this blackmail material to trap her with, the feel of her hot breath and tongue - it's all too much for the obese man. He takes his penis out, and in that moment catches a look come over Megan's face, a profoundly sad frown as her forehead creases, as if in some way even in her sleep she is vaguely aware of her violation - that sets him off. He plasters the sleeping girls' face in his cum. His cum is sloppy, hanging on her face and hair in strings, he squirts generiously 3 more times before he is expired. His breathing heavy, he slops ontop of her for a few moments.
When he regains his composure and dresses himself again, he sets about in preparation of her regaining consciousness (if she does regain concsiousness). A computer with a fairly large hard drive sits on a desk which he had set to work to digitize the recordings of Megan's rape. It had just about finished. This computer is the real source of his backups on his blackmail material on not just Megan, but countless previous young girls. He copies his new material from the digital camera. And then he contacts a benefactor, a 'backup to his backup', an extra failsafe needed for this dangerous acquisition. The benefactor will receive the footage and pictures on a secure file sharing network.
Ross switches on several more lights in his basement, revealing a display of various BDSM and torture equipment. Whips and spanking paddles, handcuffs and ballgags. On another counter sits a mixture of other interesting equipment, a mixture of DIY and sporting equipment. Items ranging from a standard hammer, to a sledge hammer, to baseball bats, and a crowbar.
He figures her body must be in some kind of state of deep self-repair. If she can fly, then fast recovery must be one of her other abilities. It would explain the rapid recovery between the time he found her in the rubble of the abandoned factory, and now. Her vagina had stopped bleeding an hour ago, her stomach looked healthier whereas before it looked like something was severely wrong in there. But her jaw is still healing. Ross takes a ballgag off its hook, kneels before the girl, and places the rubber ball deep into her mouth forcing it wide open, the unsettling sound of a crack in her jaw again. He fastens the gag tightly. The drool falls from her mouth to the concrete floor. Could her jaw heal when it is forced open so widely? He doubts it. He brings a simple wooden chair to the centre of the room and sits her in position on it, her head rolls backwards, Ross' cum still glued to her face. Her moans are obscured by the gag.
He hoses her down with water again. He aims for her face, washing away his own cum. Instead of waking, she simply rolls her head from side to side, groaning in her sleep. "Wake up, you dumb bitch!!" He yells at her frustrated. This night definately won't be as fun if she just sleeps the whole time. He dumps a bag of ice into a tin bucket then fills it with water. He dips his own hand into the bucket, assuring himself the water is freezing, he can barely stand to keep his hand in for a few moments.
He takes a moment to observe her. Her head has fallen, her soaking her drapping down in front of her. Where her blue swimsuit top is ripped, her large clevage glistening under the light, her tan legs also glistening. Her waist tied tightly with chains. He can feel another hardon coming on.
Megan's muddled world of darkness and confusion is ripped away from her as the freezing water hits her. Her eyes sting in the bright lights of the basement. Her mind barely as time to register on her situation, her horrific memories with Raptor barely have time to re-enter her consciousness, before she is rudely hit full force by the thick end of a wooden baseball bat, the object connecting directly with the right side of her jaw. She falls from the chair, hitting her head on the concrete. Her jaw sings from the pain, her nerve endings on fire on the place of the unhealed break. She tries to howl out her pain, but all that comes out is a muffled whimper from behind the rubber ball. "MMmmmfMFFFFF!!!"
And just as her senses are coming to her, bringing with it not just the fresh sting in her jaw, she becomes aware of a hellish burning sensation within her vagina. Oh God, it feels like I've been ripped open, her vagina walls feel like fire, like even at this moment razorblades have been run along them, the feeling is agonizing.
As she lies on the concrete, her mind flashes with the memory of her beating at the hands of Raptor, as he crashed his large fists into her again and again. He raped her. This memory is now fresh and forefront. A tear falls from her eye. Then a boot comes crashing onto her bringing her back into the present. Ross' boot smashes her face, he aims for the jaw repeatidly, smashing it between the boot and the concrete. "MMMMAAAFFFFGGGGGH!!!" She looks into the smiling face of her attacker, her blue eyes glistening with her fresh tears, as she tries to grasp her current situation. He places her back on the chair upright. The obese man heaves deeply, he paces around the room regaining his breath, baseball bat in one hand.
She eyes the room taking everything in, taking in the confines of the basement. The torture equipment. The computer? She strains against the chains enveloping her but can't find the strength to make the heavy restraints budge. And even the attempt brings pains throughout her whole body from her savage beating earlier. Then Ross swings trying to hit it right of the park, the bat connecting this time with the left side of her jaw and again she is knocked from the chair and again as she has no way to save herself her head hits the concrete of the floor.
He looms over her, panting heavily, sweat beginning to patch up around his shirt, and she finds herself looking up at him sheepishly with fear. It is a look at he relishes. He raises the bat high, crashing it into her head. Then again, and again, each time with a sickening thud as the wood connects with the bone of her jaw. She feels completely helpless before him, so much pain emanating from her broken jaw, but even through the sharpness of this pain she is aware of her insides mending themselves as ribs reconnect, and her head foggy with a fading concussion.
Unaware of his own strength and the resiliance of her hardened bones, the bat breaks against her skull on the 6th impact, and all she can do is wince under him. He takes a few moments to breathe before placing her on the chair again, her body heavy with the chains, the iron ball with just enough slack to allow him to move her around.
"Nice to see you awake", he says with a wide grin, the sweat dripping from his forehead. She doesn't listen, her focus is on her own pain, and she winces at the memory of her recent memories. It's not fair, is the thought she repeats to herself. It's not fair it's not fair it's not fair. Last thing I can remember is being raped by... by a monster, and I wake up to this!
"It's time for me to explain to you how serious your current predicament is", but he can see she is lost, not listening at all. He takes hold of the sledgehammer. "You will pay attention to me BITCH, or I WILL SLAM THIS FUCKING SLEDGE INTO YOUR FUCKING SKULL!" His face boils red with anger, and she jumps to attention, her blue eyes on the sledge, then she looks at him. "Good. Now, maybe this will help explain things". He opens a window on his computer, hits the play button, and turns up the sound.
She can hear the loud sound of her own crying, as well as the grunting of Raptor, as on the screen in perfect HD quality is the sight of her being beat on, the light of street lamps making everything clear. The clip plays on, the camera within a car, as the car drives to a better vantage point as the rape begins. It's a horrific and violent site, almost unnaturaly to behold. The zoom function on the camera picks up the scene in almost perfect clarity. Oh god... oh god no... Megan thinks. When she sees the unnatural shape of the beast's large dick pushing out her stomach it is a sight so sickening that Megan turns her head, tears now fully streaming down her face. Ross lowers the volume but allows the clip to play on.
"That is my new blackmail material", he says simply, a grin of confident pride forms on his pig face. She turns, glaring at him under tear filled eyes. "MMMfFFFFFGGGHH!!" She tries screaming out in pure anger, trashing against her chains. Her arms press against them with all her might and, she feels them give a little. Ross doesn't seem to notice, and she doesn't show her own surprise.
"And that's not all", he continues, as he minimizes the video, and brings up new windows. Windows with the pictures. Pictures of herself, sleeping, with a dick in her mouth. She is wide eyed as he presses forward to each new photo, some with her mask, some without, some with the dick wiping itself on her mouth or face, some with the dick inside her mouth. She is disgusted. And now that she thinks of it, she can taste something foul on her tongue, like a pungent filth, like something unwashed. She had never given a blowjob. And now, she had given one, had a dick in her mouth, without her knowledge - while she was asleep. In effect, she has been raped twice in one night. This thought brings a wave of depression over her. But even with these intense emotions she is aware that, at least, the savage agony in her vagina is subsiding, at least. Dulling away gradually.
Ross opens yet another window. This time, the video shows Megan changing out of her school uniform and into the superhero outfit of Teen Girl. The video she thought had been destroyed. "That's right", he says. "You destroyed the wrong computer. I had the backup here safely the whole time. Finally, Megan's wrecked mind puts the pieces together. He intends to try and blackmail her again. When his attention is off her and on the screen again, she presses her arms against the chains, finding a little more slack giving way, her body resisting less and less through wracked pains up and down. I'll simply destroy this computer, then he'll have nothing.
He opens some kind of chat window. "After our last encounter, I've thought things through-" but he barely has time to finish his thought. With a final mighty burst of effort, the chains are flung off, most of them snapping outright from the strain of her super strength. She glares angrily, tearing off the ballgag, lunging herself at him, the iron ball attached to her ankle doing nothing to slow her down. With her hand on his throat, she brings him to the ground. A type of anamalistic anger has overtaken her. Her fist is raised high as she straddles him, her teeth grinding, angry tears falling from her face.
"You don't want to do that, Teen Girl!" A voice from the screen, from the computer. It's enough to distract her. With her fist still raised she faces the screen and on the chat window is a dark silhouette, a figure purposely obscured in darkness, a voice disguised artificially by computer, the voice coming out in dull electronic drones. "Megan Summers. I know all about you. And what would be wisest for you right now would be to set your anger aside and realize what has happened".
"What -" she breathes with exasperation, her jaw aching when she speaks, cracking uncomfortably. Her large chest rises and falls with each intake of air. "You're probably wondering who I am, but not even Mr. Ross knows the answer to that question. Therein lies the genius in our arrangement. You see, Mr. Ross has shared with me everything he has on you. That doesn't just include his blackmail material, but school records, your address, your acquantances and family".
"Bastard!" she spits out despite the pain. The figure on the screen shows no kind of emotion. "As you can figure out, beating Ross around, torturing him, would not reveal either my identity or location. In fact, if any harm falls on Mr. Ross, I will release the blackmail material, piece by piece. If Mr. Ross reveals any displeasure to your cooperation with his demands, I will release the blackmail material, piece by piece. And if that is not enough to convince you, I have other measures to have you agree. I have friends in dark places who can make life most unpleasant for those closest to you. Starting perhaps, with your friend Jamie."
Megan, still ontop of Ross, is stunned into silence. She feels light headed and dizzy with all of these events, her mind racing for a way out of this situation. "I would lower your fist right now, Megan, before I email these delicious blowjob pictures into the accounts of your parents. Oh no... She complies, lowering her fist gently, faintly aware of the press of Ross' hardon beneath her.
"Mr. Ross' end of the arrangement is obvious", says the computerized voice. "He wishes you to obey to any of his demands, and be compliant to anything he wishes to do to you. Obviously, you will be allowed to return home, to attend school, in order to avoid suspicion from the outside world. And, in your free time, you may continue to persue your super heroics. But whenever Mr. Ross requests it, you will give him your full attention in any way he desires". As the cold, metalic voice drones on Megan simply stares at the screen in solemn acknowledgment of her trap.
"The full extent of my end of the arrangement," says the voice, "will be revealed to you at a later time". And for some reason, a chill shivers its way up Megan's spin. "For now, I would like a show myself. A sign that you are agreed to these arrangements. Not that you have any choice in the matter. I want you to bring the chair to the centre of the room, place Mr. Ross on it, wrap your legs around him, and kiss him passionately as you would kiss a lover. That is not too much to ask, is it? And so we are clear - at the first sign of your disagreement, of your non-compliance, and the first thing I will do is email the blowjob pictures to your parents."
That's it, Megan thinks sadly. I'm trapped. No way out. Even she realizes how bad the pictures look with Ross' dick in her mouth. It oddly looks like she's a consenting part of the act. She can't allow her parents to see those pictures. She could never hope to explain them, without revealing her identity as Teen Girl, without revealing everything that has happened, and without putting them in jeapordy.
Megan stands, walking to the chair, unaware of both Ross and the unknown figure staring at the crack of her tight ass in the thin material of her hot pants. She places the chair in the centre of the room, in line with the web cam of the computer. She picks up Ross in a fashion that would be comical in any other scenario, effortlessly holding him in the air with her strength, before placing him gently on the chair. Resigned, frowning, she straddles his lap, wrapping her legs around him, feeling his tiny boner pressing against her inner thigh. She looks at Ross slowly, his disgusting sweaty pudgy face grinning at her. She never dreamed she would have to kiss a man this old and ugly. She leans in, pressing her sweet lips on his foul mouth, beginning a kiss. He opens his mouth and she opens hers. "Remember," says the computer voice, "Passionate. Or else." She lets her tongue wander into his foul tasting mouth, his hot smelly breath flaring at her nose. She places her hands on his cheeks, and lets herself kiss him deeply, her tongue gropping its way around his mouth, his tongue then meets hers as they exchange saliva in the hot kiss. She feels a pain deep in her waist but she ignores it. She wants to, needs to comply, frightened of the consequences of the slightest hesitance on her part. She wraps her arms around him, moaning into his mouth, allowing her breasts to press against him. And all the while, as she tries to show passion, she resists any temptation to pull away from the foul man, instead exploring him more deeply, using her hands to caress him and pull him closer, kissing him as she would kiss a lover.
Under her she feels an odd pulsing. The fat man is cumming. He groans loudly into her mouth but she does not allow herself to pull away. When he eventually stops coming, the sticky cum pressing onto her thigh, she pulls away very slowly, a trail of saliva between them, she tries not to recoil in disgust.
"As long as you continue to obey like that, there will be no problems", says the cool voice. "Mr. Ross has a clicker device that he simply needs to press only once which will send a message to me straight away, an indication that you have not obeyed readily, in which case I will not hesitate to send out the blackmail material. And by the way, show her the device Ross..."
Ross gazes over to the screen dreamily, "Wow", he says. "Wow. That was somethin'!" He pulls up his sleeve, on his lower arm is a watch like device. "That device moniters Ross' health. If Ross falls under any unusual distress, or if he dies, even if it is by an incident outside your control Ms. Summers, I will engage the worst consequences upon your life and the lives of the people you love". She simply nods in acknowledgment. "Goodbye Ms. Summers, Megan. Goodbye, Mr. Ross, have fun with your new toy". The mystery figure blinks off of the screen.
Mr. Ross turns to her, grinning idiotically. "I never had a kiss like that", he begins groping her, pressing his fat hands against the blue material of her top, he pulls the already torn material away, the breast still bruised from her earlier beating. Her breast is much larger than his mauling hand, she winces slightly as he grips her soft flesh. His slobbering pig face dives into her chest, licking around her, then he sucks on her nipple, hard despite herself. Not because of any arousal but because of the coldness of the basement and the water she had been drenched with. She simply sits with her legs spread around him, allowing his hands and mouth to explore her in a way no other man or boy has before. He stops. "Okay, get on your fuckin' knees slut!". She winces at the name, but what can she do?
She gets off him, and onto her knees, sighing a little at a pain inside her belly. "And when I tell ya to do somethin' you respond 'yes sir', got it?" He looks at her expectantly. She gazes at the floor, her still wet hair falling around her face in a way that is unbearably sexy to him. "Yes, sir", she says softly. "You look at me when you say it". She looks up, into his face. "Yes, sir", she says more empthaticly. He moves around the room, rummaging in a corner with some closet, before bringing out a video camera and tripod. Presumably the same video camera he had used earlier. She watches as he sets up the tripod and camera, he switches it on, pointing it to her on her knees. She looks away uncomfortably. "When I hit record, you're to do everything like you want it. I'm gonna slap you some and when I do I want you to say you love it, and say thankyou, and remember to refer to me as sir. I want ya to clean the cum off of my dick too".
Her face drops. This was inevitabely going to happen as part of this arrangement. More and more sexual degredation. "You want me to... I can't...", her jaw still cracking uncomfortably. "Hey don't you fuckin' back out for even for a moment hesitate", he says, lifting up his shirt and pressing his finger to a button on the device on his arm. "Because I won't hesitate to fuck your life up. In fact I think I'd enjoy watching your life fall apart. So you better do everything you can to please me". She nods slowly, resigned.
He takes off his trouseers and underwear. "Remember to smile for the camera. No matter what I do, you fuckin' smile. Especially when I make you look at the camera. You got it?" "Yes, sir," she says. He breasts still bare for the camera. She knows that this will simply be used as yet more blackmail material to hold over her, more effective than the simple stills of her sleeping with his dick in her mouth, but she's in an impossible situation. He hits the record button, walks over to her, and slaps her as hard as he can... not holding back an ounce because he knows that she can take it, the slap is loud and audible, and despite her strength the slap stings on her jaw. "What do you say bitch??" His upper body is off screen, he holds his finger over the button on the device. "T-thankyou, sir". He slaps her again, putting all his strength into it. "I love it, sir". SMACK! "Thankyou!" SMACK!! I-I love it, sir. Thankyou! SMACK!! "I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT SIR!!"
He moves closer to her. "Now you clean my cock you fucking slut!" She smiles. I can't believe this... She moves her mouth to his crotch and lets out her pink tongue, lapping up at his small flaccid cock, covered in his cum. She can smell it before she can taste it, the same kind of musty dirty unwashed taste she felt in her mouth earlier, and when she does lick it, the cum tastes of salt. It's sticky. This is the first time she has ever tasted cum and it feels disgusting, and she wonders if it is just Ross or if all men taste like this. She does believe she will never want to taste another man's sperm again. But she continues to obedieantly lick at his dick and at his balls. His fat belly hangs loose, almost falling to the point of his groin. Disgusting, is all she can think. She has never felt more humiliated. And he lets out streams of derogatory filth. "C'mon, bitch, you cum hungry cunt, get that cum. Get all of it". She obediently gets as much as she can, licking some off his thighs where she can see it, then back to his balls. Then she notices that he's getting hard. Ross can't believe it, hard 3 times in one night? Four, if he counts when he masterbated when she was being raped.
"Suck me off you stupid whore!" he says, pressing his cock towards her lips. She complies, opening her mouth for him. At least his cock is small. He holds the back of her head, bucking his hips back and forth, attempting to fuck her face, and she can only kneel there and take it. That is until he orders her, "I want to feel your tongue". And so she licks the length of his shaft when it does enter her mouth, or the 'hole in her face' as he begins to refer to it. He can't last 30 seconds before he cums in her mouth. "Swallow every drop", he orders, and she does. Swallowing all of his foul tasting seed. When she's got all of it he pulls out, and slaps her hard again. "Ugh. Thanks, thankyou sir". "Now, look at the camera". She does. Looking at the lense she feels waves of shame pulling over her, more so when she remembers to smile like he ordered her to. So she kneels there, smiling at the camera, after his debasing treatment.
He stops the recording. She can hear him huffing and puffing, out of breath. He seems completely exhausted. "Okay you're... you can go on home now. Don't want your parents realizing you're gone. But I wanna see you here tomorrow. And everyday. After school, you come here. First thing on the weekends, lets say 9am, I wanna see you at the front door. Everyday." He sits on the chair, looking uneasy, and she mildly panicks that maybe he'll have some kind of heart attack on the spot. But he seems fine, regaining his composure. "Tonight was fun for me. And everynight from now on is gonna be nothing but fun for me, and shit for you". He grins, and she glares angrily despite herself.
It's early morning when she leaves. The sun is rising out in the sky as she flies high in the air. Her costume is practically in tatters and she has nothing else to wear, so flying high to avoid being noticed is her only choice. She falls gracefully when she comes to her house, being careful that there are no watchful eyes on the street. In her bedroom, with her face streaked with tears, she can't begin to figure out how she's going to pick up the pieces of her life. She was raped savagely. It's nothing no woman should ever have to go through. She sits on the edge of her bed, looking around at the girly design of her wallpaper, and bed. How can she ever even begin to get over what has happened to her in the space of one night? Raped, blackmailed, beaten and tortured. It's just too much. She sits in the shower thinking. That's all she does for a long time. Not fair, not fair, not fair
To Be Continued
Copied and pasted from the intro in my previous chapter -
Any constructive criticisms are always appreciated. As always, I'm looking for collaborators. Anyone who can draw and enjoys my work, if you could draw stuff to go with the stories that would be awesome. Maybe if you guys know someone on deviantart or something, you could ask for me.
Bio and Chapter 1 - http://www.undertow.club/showthread.php?t=1004
The Adventures of Teen Girl - Chapter 2 - http://www.undertow.club/showthread.php?t=1409
The Adventures of Teen Girl - Chapter 3 - http://www.undertow.club/showthread.php?t=1500
Standard warning - Story is intended for people of legal age to read. Contains adult themes and extreme violence against women.
Megan's consciousness swims in a dank sea of darkness thick with the stentch of dust and sweat, her sleeping mind is pervaded with the violent imagery of Raptor beating on her, her emotions are waves upon the rocks. She can't bring her mind to the surface to wake from her nightmare. Not yet.
Ross holds the cheek of the young girl, her body draped across a concrete floor, wrapped in heavy chains, illumination coming from a single swaying bulb high on the ceiling. She is angelic, Ross thinks. The pretty girl looks oddly at peace in her slumber, her eyelids closed shut, her breathing slow and shallow. Her nose wrinkles as she lets out the occasional sigh, her head shaking lightly, hinting at her disturbed dreams.
When carrying her to the boot of his car, the balding teacher had the girl wrapped in a blanket - he briefly considered dropping the young girl at a hospital, then thought better of it. She had looked pretty banged up, blood seeping from her ravaged vagina, from the wounds on her face. Her right hand was hanging awkwardly on her wrist and she was covered head to toe in brusies, dirt, and cum. But Ross' own selfish nature got the better of him. He would never again have this opportunity to have the teenager totally at his whim, he believed. If this was to be her last night on Earth, then it would be with him. And so, he placed her in the boot of his car, along with what he found of her costume, then he made the drive home quickly.
When he got her down to the basement he had decided he would clean her up. As much as to get the disgusting thick cum off her as anything. But first he needed to secure her. Using rubber gloves, he wiped some of the sloppy cum off her body as he placed her costume back on her body, her tight shorts, followed by her ripped top. There was something about the costume, in his own mind, that added to her alure. With the costume back on, he set out on the hard work of dragging heavy chains out from his DIY closet in the back of the basement. He placed her arms behind her back, wrapping her wrists in a layer of chains, then wrapped more layers of chains around her waist and back before fastening them in place with a heavy set of padlocks. Then he rolled out a heavy iron ball attached to a an iron anklecuff, attaching it tightly to her ankle. All of this equipment was obtained some years before rather expensively from various sources. Needless to say Ross is a man who has been up to no good for some time. Megan isn't the first girl to end up in the old man's basement.
The next thing he did was drag a hose down to the basement from his garden. With her confidently secured, he hosed her down. He had to soak her head to toe several times over to get the inhumanly thick cum off of her. The grim and dirt had been sufficiently cleaned from her body, as well as the blood from her face and cunt. To his own curiousity, the wash had done nothing to wake the girl from her deep slumber.
Now, he gently brushes his large hand over her soft cheek as she murmers below him. Her black hair is drenched and sticking to her own face and the floor. A nose that hours before was definately broken in several places, now has one single cut at the ridge. A face that had been badly puffed out from bruising had now reformed to its previous perfection, only minor cuts remaining. He wonders to the extent to which she can recover. She is undescribably cute in her sleep, her long eyelashes closed tightly, her tan skin so soft at his touch. He can feel his hardon growing at the sight of the sexy teenager in her ravaged costume, wrapped in her bondage of chains, soaked head to toe. He contains himself long enough to find his digital camera, and sets her mask carefully to the side on the floor. He takes off his trousers and filthy underwear, and kneels down on the floor, placing his measley wrinkly 4 inch cock at Megan's pouty lips. With one hand he lifts up her head, with the other he operates the camera, taking pictures as he wipes his dick on her face and lips, the strong flash capturing the scene every few moments. He places the camera down briefly, and uses his hand on her jaw to get her mouth open. There is a slight audible crack as he does this, her jaw still broken in one place. In her sleep she lazily lets her mouth hang loose as with ease he places his cock into the warmth of her teenage mouth. His hand is free to operate the camera again, after every few pictures he looks at the display screen - it looks as though she's willingly sucking him off, his pubic hair rubbing against her little nose, her mouth gently allowing him in. Better than that, any friend of Megan's can easily identify her in the pictures.
Ross lifts up her little black mask, placing it over her eyes. Ridiculous that this is enough to obscure her identify, he thinks. Nevertheless, he continues to thrust his tiny cock in and out of her open mouth, his dick wet with her saliva, taking pictures the entire time. It's too much for him - he places the camera on the ground, using both hands to grip the back of her head, trying as hard as he can to fuck her face. A difficult task with a small penis, the effect is basically of him rapidly dipping his dick in and out of her waiting mouth. If he thrusts real hard, he can feel her tongue on the tip of his dick. The site of her soft, perfect body, the idea of gathering all this blackmail material to trap her with, the feel of her hot breath and tongue - it's all too much for the obese man. He takes his penis out, and in that moment catches a look come over Megan's face, a profoundly sad frown as her forehead creases, as if in some way even in her sleep she is vaguely aware of her violation - that sets him off. He plasters the sleeping girls' face in his cum. His cum is sloppy, hanging on her face and hair in strings, he squirts generiously 3 more times before he is expired. His breathing heavy, he slops ontop of her for a few moments.
When he regains his composure and dresses himself again, he sets about in preparation of her regaining consciousness (if she does regain concsiousness). A computer with a fairly large hard drive sits on a desk which he had set to work to digitize the recordings of Megan's rape. It had just about finished. This computer is the real source of his backups on his blackmail material on not just Megan, but countless previous young girls. He copies his new material from the digital camera. And then he contacts a benefactor, a 'backup to his backup', an extra failsafe needed for this dangerous acquisition. The benefactor will receive the footage and pictures on a secure file sharing network.
Ross switches on several more lights in his basement, revealing a display of various BDSM and torture equipment. Whips and spanking paddles, handcuffs and ballgags. On another counter sits a mixture of other interesting equipment, a mixture of DIY and sporting equipment. Items ranging from a standard hammer, to a sledge hammer, to baseball bats, and a crowbar.
He figures her body must be in some kind of state of deep self-repair. If she can fly, then fast recovery must be one of her other abilities. It would explain the rapid recovery between the time he found her in the rubble of the abandoned factory, and now. Her vagina had stopped bleeding an hour ago, her stomach looked healthier whereas before it looked like something was severely wrong in there. But her jaw is still healing. Ross takes a ballgag off its hook, kneels before the girl, and places the rubber ball deep into her mouth forcing it wide open, the unsettling sound of a crack in her jaw again. He fastens the gag tightly. The drool falls from her mouth to the concrete floor. Could her jaw heal when it is forced open so widely? He doubts it. He brings a simple wooden chair to the centre of the room and sits her in position on it, her head rolls backwards, Ross' cum still glued to her face. Her moans are obscured by the gag.
He hoses her down with water again. He aims for her face, washing away his own cum. Instead of waking, she simply rolls her head from side to side, groaning in her sleep. "Wake up, you dumb bitch!!" He yells at her frustrated. This night definately won't be as fun if she just sleeps the whole time. He dumps a bag of ice into a tin bucket then fills it with water. He dips his own hand into the bucket, assuring himself the water is freezing, he can barely stand to keep his hand in for a few moments.
He takes a moment to observe her. Her head has fallen, her soaking her drapping down in front of her. Where her blue swimsuit top is ripped, her large clevage glistening under the light, her tan legs also glistening. Her waist tied tightly with chains. He can feel another hardon coming on.
Megan's muddled world of darkness and confusion is ripped away from her as the freezing water hits her. Her eyes sting in the bright lights of the basement. Her mind barely as time to register on her situation, her horrific memories with Raptor barely have time to re-enter her consciousness, before she is rudely hit full force by the thick end of a wooden baseball bat, the object connecting directly with the right side of her jaw. She falls from the chair, hitting her head on the concrete. Her jaw sings from the pain, her nerve endings on fire on the place of the unhealed break. She tries to howl out her pain, but all that comes out is a muffled whimper from behind the rubber ball. "MMmmmfMFFFFF!!!"
And just as her senses are coming to her, bringing with it not just the fresh sting in her jaw, she becomes aware of a hellish burning sensation within her vagina. Oh God, it feels like I've been ripped open, her vagina walls feel like fire, like even at this moment razorblades have been run along them, the feeling is agonizing.
As she lies on the concrete, her mind flashes with the memory of her beating at the hands of Raptor, as he crashed his large fists into her again and again. He raped her. This memory is now fresh and forefront. A tear falls from her eye. Then a boot comes crashing onto her bringing her back into the present. Ross' boot smashes her face, he aims for the jaw repeatidly, smashing it between the boot and the concrete. "MMMMAAAFFFFGGGGGH!!!" She looks into the smiling face of her attacker, her blue eyes glistening with her fresh tears, as she tries to grasp her current situation. He places her back on the chair upright. The obese man heaves deeply, he paces around the room regaining his breath, baseball bat in one hand.
She eyes the room taking everything in, taking in the confines of the basement. The torture equipment. The computer? She strains against the chains enveloping her but can't find the strength to make the heavy restraints budge. And even the attempt brings pains throughout her whole body from her savage beating earlier. Then Ross swings trying to hit it right of the park, the bat connecting this time with the left side of her jaw and again she is knocked from the chair and again as she has no way to save herself her head hits the concrete of the floor.
He looms over her, panting heavily, sweat beginning to patch up around his shirt, and she finds herself looking up at him sheepishly with fear. It is a look at he relishes. He raises the bat high, crashing it into her head. Then again, and again, each time with a sickening thud as the wood connects with the bone of her jaw. She feels completely helpless before him, so much pain emanating from her broken jaw, but even through the sharpness of this pain she is aware of her insides mending themselves as ribs reconnect, and her head foggy with a fading concussion.
Unaware of his own strength and the resiliance of her hardened bones, the bat breaks against her skull on the 6th impact, and all she can do is wince under him. He takes a few moments to breathe before placing her on the chair again, her body heavy with the chains, the iron ball with just enough slack to allow him to move her around.
"Nice to see you awake", he says with a wide grin, the sweat dripping from his forehead. She doesn't listen, her focus is on her own pain, and she winces at the memory of her recent memories. It's not fair, is the thought she repeats to herself. It's not fair it's not fair it's not fair. Last thing I can remember is being raped by... by a monster, and I wake up to this!
"It's time for me to explain to you how serious your current predicament is", but he can see she is lost, not listening at all. He takes hold of the sledgehammer. "You will pay attention to me BITCH, or I WILL SLAM THIS FUCKING SLEDGE INTO YOUR FUCKING SKULL!" His face boils red with anger, and she jumps to attention, her blue eyes on the sledge, then she looks at him. "Good. Now, maybe this will help explain things". He opens a window on his computer, hits the play button, and turns up the sound.
She can hear the loud sound of her own crying, as well as the grunting of Raptor, as on the screen in perfect HD quality is the sight of her being beat on, the light of street lamps making everything clear. The clip plays on, the camera within a car, as the car drives to a better vantage point as the rape begins. It's a horrific and violent site, almost unnaturaly to behold. The zoom function on the camera picks up the scene in almost perfect clarity. Oh god... oh god no... Megan thinks. When she sees the unnatural shape of the beast's large dick pushing out her stomach it is a sight so sickening that Megan turns her head, tears now fully streaming down her face. Ross lowers the volume but allows the clip to play on.
"That is my new blackmail material", he says simply, a grin of confident pride forms on his pig face. She turns, glaring at him under tear filled eyes. "MMMfFFFFFGGGHH!!" She tries screaming out in pure anger, trashing against her chains. Her arms press against them with all her might and, she feels them give a little. Ross doesn't seem to notice, and she doesn't show her own surprise.
"And that's not all", he continues, as he minimizes the video, and brings up new windows. Windows with the pictures. Pictures of herself, sleeping, with a dick in her mouth. She is wide eyed as he presses forward to each new photo, some with her mask, some without, some with the dick wiping itself on her mouth or face, some with the dick inside her mouth. She is disgusted. And now that she thinks of it, she can taste something foul on her tongue, like a pungent filth, like something unwashed. She had never given a blowjob. And now, she had given one, had a dick in her mouth, without her knowledge - while she was asleep. In effect, she has been raped twice in one night. This thought brings a wave of depression over her. But even with these intense emotions she is aware that, at least, the savage agony in her vagina is subsiding, at least. Dulling away gradually.
Ross opens yet another window. This time, the video shows Megan changing out of her school uniform and into the superhero outfit of Teen Girl. The video she thought had been destroyed. "That's right", he says. "You destroyed the wrong computer. I had the backup here safely the whole time. Finally, Megan's wrecked mind puts the pieces together. He intends to try and blackmail her again. When his attention is off her and on the screen again, she presses her arms against the chains, finding a little more slack giving way, her body resisting less and less through wracked pains up and down. I'll simply destroy this computer, then he'll have nothing.
He opens some kind of chat window. "After our last encounter, I've thought things through-" but he barely has time to finish his thought. With a final mighty burst of effort, the chains are flung off, most of them snapping outright from the strain of her super strength. She glares angrily, tearing off the ballgag, lunging herself at him, the iron ball attached to her ankle doing nothing to slow her down. With her hand on his throat, she brings him to the ground. A type of anamalistic anger has overtaken her. Her fist is raised high as she straddles him, her teeth grinding, angry tears falling from her face.
"You don't want to do that, Teen Girl!" A voice from the screen, from the computer. It's enough to distract her. With her fist still raised she faces the screen and on the chat window is a dark silhouette, a figure purposely obscured in darkness, a voice disguised artificially by computer, the voice coming out in dull electronic drones. "Megan Summers. I know all about you. And what would be wisest for you right now would be to set your anger aside and realize what has happened".
"What -" she breathes with exasperation, her jaw aching when she speaks, cracking uncomfortably. Her large chest rises and falls with each intake of air. "You're probably wondering who I am, but not even Mr. Ross knows the answer to that question. Therein lies the genius in our arrangement. You see, Mr. Ross has shared with me everything he has on you. That doesn't just include his blackmail material, but school records, your address, your acquantances and family".
"Bastard!" she spits out despite the pain. The figure on the screen shows no kind of emotion. "As you can figure out, beating Ross around, torturing him, would not reveal either my identity or location. In fact, if any harm falls on Mr. Ross, I will release the blackmail material, piece by piece. If Mr. Ross reveals any displeasure to your cooperation with his demands, I will release the blackmail material, piece by piece. And if that is not enough to convince you, I have other measures to have you agree. I have friends in dark places who can make life most unpleasant for those closest to you. Starting perhaps, with your friend Jamie."
Megan, still ontop of Ross, is stunned into silence. She feels light headed and dizzy with all of these events, her mind racing for a way out of this situation. "I would lower your fist right now, Megan, before I email these delicious blowjob pictures into the accounts of your parents. Oh no... She complies, lowering her fist gently, faintly aware of the press of Ross' hardon beneath her.
"Mr. Ross' end of the arrangement is obvious", says the computerized voice. "He wishes you to obey to any of his demands, and be compliant to anything he wishes to do to you. Obviously, you will be allowed to return home, to attend school, in order to avoid suspicion from the outside world. And, in your free time, you may continue to persue your super heroics. But whenever Mr. Ross requests it, you will give him your full attention in any way he desires". As the cold, metalic voice drones on Megan simply stares at the screen in solemn acknowledgment of her trap.
"The full extent of my end of the arrangement," says the voice, "will be revealed to you at a later time". And for some reason, a chill shivers its way up Megan's spin. "For now, I would like a show myself. A sign that you are agreed to these arrangements. Not that you have any choice in the matter. I want you to bring the chair to the centre of the room, place Mr. Ross on it, wrap your legs around him, and kiss him passionately as you would kiss a lover. That is not too much to ask, is it? And so we are clear - at the first sign of your disagreement, of your non-compliance, and the first thing I will do is email the blowjob pictures to your parents."
That's it, Megan thinks sadly. I'm trapped. No way out. Even she realizes how bad the pictures look with Ross' dick in her mouth. It oddly looks like she's a consenting part of the act. She can't allow her parents to see those pictures. She could never hope to explain them, without revealing her identity as Teen Girl, without revealing everything that has happened, and without putting them in jeapordy.
Megan stands, walking to the chair, unaware of both Ross and the unknown figure staring at the crack of her tight ass in the thin material of her hot pants. She places the chair in the centre of the room, in line with the web cam of the computer. She picks up Ross in a fashion that would be comical in any other scenario, effortlessly holding him in the air with her strength, before placing him gently on the chair. Resigned, frowning, she straddles his lap, wrapping her legs around him, feeling his tiny boner pressing against her inner thigh. She looks at Ross slowly, his disgusting sweaty pudgy face grinning at her. She never dreamed she would have to kiss a man this old and ugly. She leans in, pressing her sweet lips on his foul mouth, beginning a kiss. He opens his mouth and she opens hers. "Remember," says the computer voice, "Passionate. Or else." She lets her tongue wander into his foul tasting mouth, his hot smelly breath flaring at her nose. She places her hands on his cheeks, and lets herself kiss him deeply, her tongue gropping its way around his mouth, his tongue then meets hers as they exchange saliva in the hot kiss. She feels a pain deep in her waist but she ignores it. She wants to, needs to comply, frightened of the consequences of the slightest hesitance on her part. She wraps her arms around him, moaning into his mouth, allowing her breasts to press against him. And all the while, as she tries to show passion, she resists any temptation to pull away from the foul man, instead exploring him more deeply, using her hands to caress him and pull him closer, kissing him as she would kiss a lover.
Under her she feels an odd pulsing. The fat man is cumming. He groans loudly into her mouth but she does not allow herself to pull away. When he eventually stops coming, the sticky cum pressing onto her thigh, she pulls away very slowly, a trail of saliva between them, she tries not to recoil in disgust.
"As long as you continue to obey like that, there will be no problems", says the cool voice. "Mr. Ross has a clicker device that he simply needs to press only once which will send a message to me straight away, an indication that you have not obeyed readily, in which case I will not hesitate to send out the blackmail material. And by the way, show her the device Ross..."
Ross gazes over to the screen dreamily, "Wow", he says. "Wow. That was somethin'!" He pulls up his sleeve, on his lower arm is a watch like device. "That device moniters Ross' health. If Ross falls under any unusual distress, or if he dies, even if it is by an incident outside your control Ms. Summers, I will engage the worst consequences upon your life and the lives of the people you love". She simply nods in acknowledgment. "Goodbye Ms. Summers, Megan. Goodbye, Mr. Ross, have fun with your new toy". The mystery figure blinks off of the screen.
Mr. Ross turns to her, grinning idiotically. "I never had a kiss like that", he begins groping her, pressing his fat hands against the blue material of her top, he pulls the already torn material away, the breast still bruised from her earlier beating. Her breast is much larger than his mauling hand, she winces slightly as he grips her soft flesh. His slobbering pig face dives into her chest, licking around her, then he sucks on her nipple, hard despite herself. Not because of any arousal but because of the coldness of the basement and the water she had been drenched with. She simply sits with her legs spread around him, allowing his hands and mouth to explore her in a way no other man or boy has before. He stops. "Okay, get on your fuckin' knees slut!". She winces at the name, but what can she do?
She gets off him, and onto her knees, sighing a little at a pain inside her belly. "And when I tell ya to do somethin' you respond 'yes sir', got it?" He looks at her expectantly. She gazes at the floor, her still wet hair falling around her face in a way that is unbearably sexy to him. "Yes, sir", she says softly. "You look at me when you say it". She looks up, into his face. "Yes, sir", she says more empthaticly. He moves around the room, rummaging in a corner with some closet, before bringing out a video camera and tripod. Presumably the same video camera he had used earlier. She watches as he sets up the tripod and camera, he switches it on, pointing it to her on her knees. She looks away uncomfortably. "When I hit record, you're to do everything like you want it. I'm gonna slap you some and when I do I want you to say you love it, and say thankyou, and remember to refer to me as sir. I want ya to clean the cum off of my dick too".
Her face drops. This was inevitabely going to happen as part of this arrangement. More and more sexual degredation. "You want me to... I can't...", her jaw still cracking uncomfortably. "Hey don't you fuckin' back out for even for a moment hesitate", he says, lifting up his shirt and pressing his finger to a button on the device on his arm. "Because I won't hesitate to fuck your life up. In fact I think I'd enjoy watching your life fall apart. So you better do everything you can to please me". She nods slowly, resigned.
He takes off his trouseers and underwear. "Remember to smile for the camera. No matter what I do, you fuckin' smile. Especially when I make you look at the camera. You got it?" "Yes, sir," she says. He breasts still bare for the camera. She knows that this will simply be used as yet more blackmail material to hold over her, more effective than the simple stills of her sleeping with his dick in her mouth, but she's in an impossible situation. He hits the record button, walks over to her, and slaps her as hard as he can... not holding back an ounce because he knows that she can take it, the slap is loud and audible, and despite her strength the slap stings on her jaw. "What do you say bitch??" His upper body is off screen, he holds his finger over the button on the device. "T-thankyou, sir". He slaps her again, putting all his strength into it. "I love it, sir". SMACK! "Thankyou!" SMACK!! I-I love it, sir. Thankyou! SMACK!! "I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT SIR!!"
He moves closer to her. "Now you clean my cock you fucking slut!" She smiles. I can't believe this... She moves her mouth to his crotch and lets out her pink tongue, lapping up at his small flaccid cock, covered in his cum. She can smell it before she can taste it, the same kind of musty dirty unwashed taste she felt in her mouth earlier, and when she does lick it, the cum tastes of salt. It's sticky. This is the first time she has ever tasted cum and it feels disgusting, and she wonders if it is just Ross or if all men taste like this. She does believe she will never want to taste another man's sperm again. But she continues to obedieantly lick at his dick and at his balls. His fat belly hangs loose, almost falling to the point of his groin. Disgusting, is all she can think. She has never felt more humiliated. And he lets out streams of derogatory filth. "C'mon, bitch, you cum hungry cunt, get that cum. Get all of it". She obediently gets as much as she can, licking some off his thighs where she can see it, then back to his balls. Then she notices that he's getting hard. Ross can't believe it, hard 3 times in one night? Four, if he counts when he masterbated when she was being raped.
"Suck me off you stupid whore!" he says, pressing his cock towards her lips. She complies, opening her mouth for him. At least his cock is small. He holds the back of her head, bucking his hips back and forth, attempting to fuck her face, and she can only kneel there and take it. That is until he orders her, "I want to feel your tongue". And so she licks the length of his shaft when it does enter her mouth, or the 'hole in her face' as he begins to refer to it. He can't last 30 seconds before he cums in her mouth. "Swallow every drop", he orders, and she does. Swallowing all of his foul tasting seed. When she's got all of it he pulls out, and slaps her hard again. "Ugh. Thanks, thankyou sir". "Now, look at the camera". She does. Looking at the lense she feels waves of shame pulling over her, more so when she remembers to smile like he ordered her to. So she kneels there, smiling at the camera, after his debasing treatment.
He stops the recording. She can hear him huffing and puffing, out of breath. He seems completely exhausted. "Okay you're... you can go on home now. Don't want your parents realizing you're gone. But I wanna see you here tomorrow. And everyday. After school, you come here. First thing on the weekends, lets say 9am, I wanna see you at the front door. Everyday." He sits on the chair, looking uneasy, and she mildly panicks that maybe he'll have some kind of heart attack on the spot. But he seems fine, regaining his composure. "Tonight was fun for me. And everynight from now on is gonna be nothing but fun for me, and shit for you". He grins, and she glares angrily despite herself.
It's early morning when she leaves. The sun is rising out in the sky as she flies high in the air. Her costume is practically in tatters and she has nothing else to wear, so flying high to avoid being noticed is her only choice. She falls gracefully when she comes to her house, being careful that there are no watchful eyes on the street. In her bedroom, with her face streaked with tears, she can't begin to figure out how she's going to pick up the pieces of her life. She was raped savagely. It's nothing no woman should ever have to go through. She sits on the edge of her bed, looking around at the girly design of her wallpaper, and bed. How can she ever even begin to get over what has happened to her in the space of one night? Raped, blackmailed, beaten and tortured. It's just too much. She sits in the shower thinking. That's all she does for a long time. Not fair, not fair, not fair
To Be Continued
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