A teenaged girl's teasing of her older neighbour sparks dire consequences.
Every day for the past month, sixteen-year old college student Ashlee Meadows had lain soaking up the sun's rays in the next door garden, turning gradually from chicken skin white to Mediterranean bronze. And every day, older neighbour Anthony Lynch had peeked discreetly from the other side of the fence, watching the transformation. So much time and effort had Anthony put in on mowing that particular patch of lawn that the grass there began to resemble the bald snatch he imagined nestled between her legs.
And every single day, or so it seemed to Anthony, the teenaged blonde became ever more daring. He recalled that, when his interest was first aroused, back at the beginning of summer, Ashlee would barely ruffle the white kimono, let alone remove it, rarely venturing to unveil the turquoise bikini beneath, a micro one, and only then when the heat reached its zenith.
But, as the first week of the holiday blurred into the second, the delightful teen somehow found the courage to up the tempo, to reveal more flesh by resting on her front and allowing the spaghetti straps to fall alluringly to the sides to showcase a hint of budding breast in profile. By the fortnight mark, she had, from somewhere, uncovered a whole new daring, going so far as to turn over and balance the tiny top on an elevated chest. Occasionally, to Anthony's delight, his neighbour would allow - knowingly or otherwise - the micro-top to slide away to the grass to fully expose a pair of ripe young breasts.
It was by the middle of week three, Anthony recalled, that topless became the norm for Ashlee. No sooner was she on the sunlounger than her breasts were revealed to the scorching sun and his peeking gaze. Finally, the bikini bottom too was dispensed with completely, though Ashlee's modesty was retained by remaining stoicly on her front, chin supported on hands as she digested a book or magazine, a perfectly sculpted peachy arse revealed to prying eyes.
And then finally it happened - the previous day in fact - Ashlee threw caution to the sun and went the whole way. Not, as he'd imagined, that there was much to see in that shaven haven: a mere pink crack between a pair of shapely, tanned legs. Personally, Anthony preferred girls with hair, though everything else about Ashlee made him lick his lips and battle to suppress the urge to unleash a torpedo-like cock and start masturbating behind the potting shed. By now, of course, and perhaps all along, Ashlee was fully aware of his less than discreet interest in her.
Thus, with the dispensing of that final act of modesty came an overwhelming desire to take things further - on both sides. Yet Anthony was weak-willed and painfully shy, a nonde kind of man whose big ideas were all in his head and who'd never been able to hold down a proper relationship. Were it not for the fact he happened to live next door and her hormones were at a critical level, a girl like Ashlee wouldn't even have given him a second thought.
That night in bed, he took matters into his own hands for the final time, he convinced himself, lying on his back with the object of his desire a mere foot or so of bricks and wallpaper away from him. Sometimes he swore he could hear her moaning lightly in her own bed, and he'd speed up the masturbation. Was she perhaps pleasuring herself too, thinking about him, or was it a simply bad dream inducing the reaction? God how he craved to find out.
The following morning, on cue Ashlee nudged open the double doors and tiptoed across the baking hot patio, sucking at the air like she was walking across burning coals. Opening out the sunlounger in the middle of the garden, a sly glance to the right revealed the curtains in the next door window flutter, a bright knowing smile illuminating her pretty face as she began the ritual.
Sitting on the edge, the pretty student took time, as she always did, lotioning the outsides of each arm, then her shoulders and then the tops of her breasts above the bikini top. Her firm, toned belly next, the teenager circled lovingly, dispersing the oil generously and feeling the first tingle of desire, somewhere deep in her young loins. She planned at some stage to have her navel pierced, though her mother was against the idea and she would doubtless have to wait till eighteen.
Coating each leg from the ankle up, she paid extra special attention to the soft inner thighs, the tingle becoming a deep pulse, a dark dot appearing at the crotch of the turquoise bikini bottoms. Lying back, she allowed the sun to radiate its warmth over her whole body, quickly drifting into semi-consciousness.
Awoken moments later by the hum of the motorised mower, she grinned inwardly and then outwardly, furtively lifting one eyelid to observe her neighbour as he passed by slowly, watching her intently, yet strangely aloof. Though he was a little paunchy, overly hairy and beetle-browed, there was something about him that intrigued her.
Easing up on her elbows, Ashlee unhooked the bikini top, letting it slip over a pair of firm peach sized breasts and glide feather-like down her belly. Taking the bottle of lotion she began to massage each round young orb. A discernibly paler shade of bronze than the rest of her body, owing to an initial reticence that no longer seemed to matter, she loved their spongy feel in her palms and imagined that Anthony would too.
The hypnotic motion of her sure hands caused each nipple to stand proud and the throbbing between her legs to intensify like a pneumatic drill. Glancing down, she must have been dreaming filthy thoughts just now, for a circular patch, an inch across, had spread lewdly at her crotch. With Anthony so close and still a little shy, the bikini bottoms remained in place - for now. Head falling back, once more Ashlee allowed the sweltering sun to mesmerize her.
From his side of the fence Anthony felt the first stirring of arousal the moment Ashlee allowed the bikini top to fall, cock rubbing painfully against his canvas shorts. Raising a hirsute forearm, he wiped a sweat covered brow and moved in as close as he dared. The gentle inflate-and-deflate motion of her chest suggested she was asleep, but it might just be a pretence. There was so much sexual tension, it crackled in the air like an electrical storm about to break. Perhaps the time had arrived arrived to call her bluff...
Ashlee awakened drowsily, pushing the sunglasses down her nose and peering over in Anthony's direction. Her heart raced as the realisation dawned that he was at the fence, staring straight back at her with unerring eyes. Front sufficiently tanned, she rolled over teasingly, reaching for the lotion. Holding out her palm, she squeezed, a raspberry sound ejaculated, the bottle all but empty. "Damn," she cursed, then turning to address Anthony for the first time in over a month, she said: "Hi."
"Hi," he replied, uncommunicative at the best of times.
"Erm I don't suppose you've any spare lotion I could borrow?"
Anthony looked back, startled and a little flummoxed, but he nodded knowingly, coolness just about remaining intact. He disappeared then returning a minute later with the orange plastic bottle. He went to toss it to her but, summoning up all his mettle, decided against that course of action. Clambering over the low wall, to her evident surprise, he stood mere feet from Ashlee, a big shadow covering her whole body. Still reticent, he held the bottle at arm's length like a combat soldier gripping an unpinned grenade and it fell upon Ashlee to be bold. "I have real problems doing my back," she revealed shyly.
She thought she heard Anthony snigger to himself as silently he moved closer, with a shake of the bottle. Before even the merest of contact with her flesh, Ashlee felt her clit spasm and a rush of cumjuice squeeze from her tight pussy lips, staining the crotch of the bikini. Thank God she was face down and it was out of sight.
The first dollop hit the middle of her back and soon, to both their surprise, Anthony's big strong paws were circling manfully, ensuring every inch of sunbaked flesh was coated. Surprisingly adept, firm fingers prodded, leaving indents and causing Ashlee to sigh and swoon. She'd never have believed this aloof guy could be such a marvel with his hands. Her pussy was wringing wet and surely he could smell her arousal.
Another dollop of oil sploshed her lumbar spine and he worked the lotion in assuredly, kneading like a master baker. Ashlee was in rapture, her lips vibrating contentedly. And then he stopped, precious moments passing by as Ashlee dared not speak. Or look. Or breathe. Just how much further was he prepared to go?
The answer came quickly, as suddenly the whole mood in the garden changed, his shadow seeming to cling tight to her body, causing a huge goose-pimply shiver. She felt a tug on her long blonde hair, forcing her face away from the sunlounger, a huge hand reaching round to cover her mouth. Muted protests were met with a tightened grip, fingers pinching her facial cheeks painfully. Barely able to breathe, eyes as wide as ping pong balls, Ashlee screamed as loud as she could, an eardrum bursting wail. Yet the intensity of the scream reverberated only inside her head. Tears welled up in her eyes as he wrestled with her, emitting such strength for one so lean and wiry.
A strong arm snaked around her waist and she was lifted easily off the sunlounger. Thankfully the grip on her mouth finally abated and poor Ashlee was able to catch a breath, heaving lungfuls. Scared now, she bit at the fingers at her mouth, punched down at the arm at her waist and kicked and kicked. All were token efforts, so strong was this grown man in comparison.
Within seconds, gone was the comfort of her parent's backyard, carried away like a sack of potatoes to the threshold of the potting shed in her neighbour's garden. Using a foot, Anthony booted open the door, a dank, earthy aroma invading Ashlee's nostrils. Anthony's arm extended, swiping clear a wooden surface of its clutter. As he tossed her down on her back, Ashlee took the opportunity to scream, yet it was a hoarse, hollow effort, absorbed easily by the surrounding walls. She saw his face cloud angrily, a hand raised to threaten violence, hers lifting also if to say she wouldn't scream again.
Few preliminaries, Anthony wasted no time in tearing down his shorts, revealing an average sized appendage. Yet it was thick and meaty with a look of menace to the raging purple head. Laid on her back, Ashlee tensed and winced as he reached to press her cheek with the tip, causing her head to lull sideways towards him. Shorts pooled at his feet, Anthony exhaled deeply as the knob brushed across her clamped tight lips, depositing a smudge of precum. Though Ashlee was inexperienced, she knew what he wanted, what she was supposed to do, yet defiantly she clamped her lips together. "Uh uh," resonated Anthony, reaching in to squeeze the two nostrils together.
Tears ran down her cheeks as Ashlee fought for air, head swimming. The standoff continued until her face turned red, then blue, then purple. Finally, her jaw slackened. Quick on the offensive, Anthony shoved his cock towards the invitingly pursed lips, hitting her tongue before she could clamp shut again. The thought raced through her mind to bite his cock, yet it was so damn hard, like vulcanised rubber. Besides which, she had no wish to antagonise him to more violent extremes. Soon this would be over and he'd let her go, she reasoned.
Eyes wide with fear, she moaned onto the spongy tip, tasting a combination of sweat and precum. More so for comfort than a wish to offer pleasure, Ashlee tilted her head further to the side, allowing Anthony deeper penetration. He moaned, leaking more precum on her tongue, before suddenly retracting, her saliva clinging to the hard shaft. Ashlee spluttered as she fought for air, regarding Anthony in stunned silence. "Get off there and on your knees," he ordered.
Unquestioningly Ashlee obeyed, climbing from the wooden unit and kneeling subserviently before him. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he elevated her head so she was forced to look deep into his eyes, as cold and devoid of emotion as an alligator's. He slapped the left cheek, not hard but sufficient to make her wince, more through surprise than pain. This time she opened wide without needing a further prompt. The thick cock felt more comfortable in this position. Suddenly a startling thought crossed her mind: she was far from being repulsed or revolted as she should be in this situation. Indeed her treacherous pussy was sopping wet. "No!" she screamed inwardly, nonethess refusing to be manipulated in this manner, even if it was the most thrilling situation she'd ever been in.
Out of instinct, she elevated her tongue, the huge cockhead rolling yet barely moving, so tight was the fat slab of meat inside her mouth. Easing her head back, keeping her eyes locked on his, Ashlee pressed the tip of her tongue into the eye, flicking generously. The quicker she made him finish, she figured, the sooner her ordeal would be over. It seemed to have the desired effect for Anthony groaned, more precum souring her tastebuds. Never having given a blowjob before in her life, she was guided by the familiarity of porno movies.
For over a minute Ashlee's head bobbed back and forth down the shaft, until her lips were sore and her gums ached. Just as fatigue forced her to slow, Anthony reached to grab a clump of hair, forcing her head back down the shaft and using her mouth like it was a cunt. Ashlee moaned in pain, though the protests were muffled on the erect shaft. Mouth numb, spittle dribbled in rivulets from each side of her mouth. "Cum, you bastard," pleaded her inner voice, the thrill beginning to fade.
For two more minutes that seemed like two hours he ploughed at her face. Suddenly a switch flipped and subconsciously Ashlee found herself reaching to rub at a swollen clit, trying to diffuse the hurt with some pleasure.
Just when the girl thought things might go on forever, his cock jerked, the motion causing it to slip from her mouth, yet not before a length of spunk spurted on her tongue. The head inches from her face, a second wave-like ejaculation sploshed her nose and cheek, before the cock was rammed back inside the warm crevice. Two, three then a fourth spurt flooded her mouth. She gagged uncontrollably, fighting to keep it all inside and not to risk inflaming him. For already Ashlee knew better than to spit it out, swallowing hungrily as the deflating penis retracted and rolled down her chin with a silvery slither. Then all of a sudden she went heady, eyes rolling back into their sockets, and everything went pitch black.
Slowly Ashlee came round, the room assembling before her gaze like a jigsaw puzzle. She made to groan, but quickly discovered the impossibility of doing so. Something was restricting the movement of her mouth, lips clamped tight. She motioned to remove it, again finding a further physical restriction, both wrists pulling up sharply, resulting in two shots of pain. The harder the teenager pulled, the more painful was the reaction, until both wrists were sore with the effort. Another miserable attempt at a groan was muffled, never to be heard outside her own sphere. Craning to look, it became swiftly apparent that her arms were tied above her head, two lengths of wire knotted firmly to the black metal bedstead. Thin red lines marked each wrist where she'd pulled.
Then the realisation dawned upon the youngster like a bolt of lightning that she remained under his control. He hadn't just fucked her mouth and dumped his cum in it but had taken her captive, doubtless to finish the job. Tears welled in her saddened eyes and ran disconsolately and unchecked down each soft cheek. Then sheer panic set in and she yanked desperately at the bonds, failing to learn the lesson of experience as deep grooves scored each slender girlish wrist. Calm yourself, she pleaded inwardly yet the overwhelming urge to tear herself free prevailed.
Taking a deep nasal breath and staring upward, Ashlee's reflection flashed back from a full length mirrored ceiling, revealing a rectangular strip of black duct tape at her mouth. Her tanned body, fully exposed, lay star-shaped on the top of the bed. It was not a pretty sight for her to see. Streaks of dried cum covered her chin, there were patches of congealed blood spread around and finger-shaped bruises on her hips. As she shifted within the restrictions, the pain matched each bruise. Soon her earnest weeping became a pitiful silent sobbing.
Yet there was one really fiery pain above all else, a searing that seemed to come from deep within her belly. She grimaced, the pain overwhelming every other emotion until she almost passed out. In the reflection up above, she searched with beady eyes and saw with shock what it was: there was a gold stud nestling by her navel, right at the pain's epicentre. Whilst she'd been out for the count, it appeared that he'd pierced her there and, though it was something she'd craved anyway, Ashlee became incandescent with rage, thrashing wildly, wrists inevitably baring the brunt. The bastard had violated her body against her will, permanently and irreversibly. She felt the anger boil to new heights yet, had the girl realised the violation to come, she'd have held her rage and spared those dainty wrists further anguish.
As one by one, each of her five senses grew accustomed to the surroundings, it was the fetid taste in her mouth that caused Ashlee's face to contort next. She recalled with disdain the wad of thick cum he'd unloaded in her mouth. She'd swallowed what she could before passing out, though inevitably some lingering traces remained. She dared not to taste though, like a child with an ulcer, she just had to torture herself, running the tip of her tongue across the line of the front teeth, retching as her tastebuds were assaulted by the congealed sperm that clung to them. Breathing in deep and stacctato-fast through her nose, battling to impose some calm, she strove to regain the assurance of sleep yet, every time she drifted close, the tethers at each wrist jerked clumsily, dispersing a dull pain and bringing unwanted wakefulness.
An hour, maybe more, elapsed as Ashlee sullenly awaited his return and her fate, the prevailing eerie wall of silence finally punctuated by a first creak on the stairs, causing every hair on her flesh to stand erect. Craning towards the door, and in spite of the pain conferred by any sudden movement, she witnessed his entrance out of her peripheral vision. "Hello again, Ashlee dear," he said uncomplicatedly.
His nakedness and a full, unerring erection did not augur well, the only apparent relief the clear fizzing glass in his right hand. Oh how she needed a drink like nothing else to nullify the toxic taste. On the other hand, the shiny contraption Anthony held in the left appeared less welcoming and more foreboding. It looked to Ashlee's untrained eye like some kind of torture device. She swallowed hard, the foul taste making her gag, mind awash with nightmare visions.
Taking a seated position on the edge, Anthony's sudden movement caused the bed to dip and the wire ligatures to tear once more into the soft skin at each wrist. Ashlee whimpered silently into the duct tape, eyes appealing for clemency. As her tormentor leaned in close, impulsively she turned away. That meant his lips were level with her ear and he wasted no opportunity to nibble the fleshy lobe. "Would you like a drink, Ashlee dear?" he asked almost fondly.
Her head rolled back, eyes continuing to plead and implore a drink to take away the shitty horrid taste. Anthony pursed his lips. "Now that means I'll have to remove..." he observed, gesturing to the duct tape, "which means that if you scream, I'll have to hurt you bad. You won't scream, will you Ashlee?"
She shook her head violently in agreement.
"Are you sure now?" he enquired. "Cos if you do..."
The mere threat was enough. A more vigorous nod that stretched the bonds at her wrists and made her wince brought a satisfied smile to Anthony's lips. In any event, she knew forlornly that her parents were still at work and the chance of anyone coming to her rescue virtually nil. She was stuck in this mirrored prison until Anthony deigned it was time to release her. Jesus, she was frightened like never before, yet she could get through it, she covinced herself by holding things together.
"Pleasure, pain...pain, pleasure..." Anthony mused, holding both hands over Ashlee's head.
As she gazed up, her eyes expanded.
"Pain," he decided like a judge conferring the death sentence.
"Nooooooooo," she screamed inside her head, craving that drink more than anything, more so even than her liberty.
She watched as Anthony fiddled inside the glass, removing a dice-sized cube of ice. A dollop of cold water eased from the edge like one of Ashlee's tear and landed on her ribcage, inducing a spine-tingling shiver. With that he leant in and drew the frozen edge across her right nipple. Ashlee's whole upper body reflexed, hands almost pulled from her arms as he rubbed back and forth and she spasmed. Thank God for the duct tape or she'd have surely deafened them both. He marvelled in the effect it had on her, deriving sadistic pleasure. And then, as soon as the initial surprise wore off, perversely the teenager felt nothing but a numb, almost sensual, tingle. It was a numness she'd pretty soon be thankful for.
Cupping the right breast so that the swollen nipple extended upward, Anthony flicked at it with a finger. A sudden jerking movement, just out of sight, and the cold metal clamp crushed the perky teat. She screeched so hard that the duct tape was almost torn off, yet it remained agonisingly in place. A raft of painful shockwaves pulsed throughout her body, nerve ends on fire. She had never witnessed such ferocious pain in all sixteen years on God's green earth, a pain that threatened never to abate, the only consolation being the semi-anaesthitisation of the icecube. Yet it provided little solace for the tortured young Ashlee. Extra tears flooded from each eye seemingly to compensate for the staunched vocal reaction. Oh Jesus, would this anguish ever end?
It would and it did, at least this part, and only after five tortuous minutes, during which her body was wracked and wrecked, the ordeal exacerbated by Anthony's matter-of-fact observation, poker faced and psychopathically aloof. As the pain in her nipple finally levelled to a dull throb, Ashlee was able breathe again with relative comfort. Her eyes focussed on the drink, a film of ice-cold condensation clinging to the outside of the glass. "No screaming out now," implored Anthony, the prevalent menace in his eyes sufficient to dissuade Ashlee from even so much as contemplating a battle.
Prodding a fingernail beneath the strip of heavy tape, Anthony loosened a corner, the sudden swipe compassionate, hurting restricted to the bare minimum. No scream, as promised, all that came was a huge outpouring of air, lungs evacuated. He looked pleased, whispering benevolently: "Good girl."
As a reward, the glass was tilted to her eager lips, the fizz and taste of ice cold lemonade making everything in the world all right for a moment and neutralising the foul taste. Ashlee churned the drink around her cheeks like mouthwash before swallowing gratefully into the pit of her stomach. Drawing the glass away, accompanied by a look of abject misery from his young captive, Anthony reached for the clamped breast, stroking its underside and sending several short pulses of pain through her body. Ashlee moaned yet, incredibly this time, it was a moan of pure desire as quickly she came to appreciate the thin line between pain and pleasure. "You want me to take it off now?" enquired Anthony.
"No," she implored earnestly and truthfully, actually craving the comfort it brought to her ravaged body. "Please don't."
Anthony smiled knowingly as he leaned closer, stroking the blonde fringe from a moistened brow. Face dipping, his lips found hers. Ashlee held still, shocked that the instinct to turn away in disgust had suddenly deserted her. Their lips brushed and hers parted almost subconsciously, two tongues impacting. Never before had Ashlee experienced a kiss so intense. Screwing her eyes tight she allowed her assailant to taste every inch of her mouth, eager tongue working busily inside. A slight, unintentional nudge, and the clamp vibrated on her nipple, causing Ashlee to hold her breath. Yet it was a welcome pulse that coursed her body with warmth. By the time it reached the tops of her legs, it was a sensation of liquid desire, her pussy ablaze. She didn't know whether to smile or cry.
Breaking the embrace, Anthony reached over to untie the wrist bonds, Ashlee's arms falling to her sides, weightless at last. An immediate reaction to reach for her pussy and stench the desire, she plunged three fingers deep, rolling her clit and frigging with abandon. Anthony's face clouded. "Did I say you could...?" he thundered authoratively.
"Sorry," she mouthed guiltily, quickly removing the digits to leave a gaping vacuum in her pussy.
"Now lick them clean," he ordered.
Subserviently Ashlee raised the fingers to her lips, tasting her own arousal ingrained in the skin. The scent had barely settled on her tongue when Anthony lifted her easily, limp body tossed over his knee, arse plumped up. Turning her head to the side, Ashlee gazed into another huge mirror opposite, relaying events in real time. Her brain was jumbled with fear and at first she didn't recognise herself. It was like some out-of-body experience and that wasn't her in the reflection but some other poor girl. It was a film or a show she was watching, she reasoned. She observed in the mirror as Anthony fumbled beneath the bed. Oh God, what was he searching for? The answer came soon enough as he produced a two foot long riding crop. Ashlee's eyes waxed and waned, her breath raced and every hair on her body stood rigid once more.
Anthony raised an elbow to shoulder height, the crop quivering menacingly in the air. Ashlee dared not breathe, let alone move, bracing herself and pre-empting the pain long before it arrived. Anthony savoured the moment, confounding the sasdism, evidently in no particular hurry as his captive's heartbeat thumped away like a metronome.
The movement, when eventually it came, was all from the wrist, two swift thwacks. Ashlee wailed miserably as her arse was whipped mercilessly, a brace of red parallel lines tearing the flesh. Oh fuck that hurt. Oh FUCK that really hurt. An inexpilcably delayed reaction, Ashlee shrieked. Yet as soon as the initial welt of pain subsided, all that was left was an intense, almost orgasmic desire. She gazed on, mesmerised as Anthony traced each red groove with the tip of the crop, her mouth sucking loudly at the air. "Oh God, yessssssss," she hissed, arching so her wet pussy rubbed at his knee.
Anthony grinned, lowering the crop to stroke each inner thigh, almost lovingly. Up and down it tickled, causing Ashlee to bite down hard on her bottom lip. Being able to watch in the mirror as her body was tormented in this manner somehow distanced Ashlee from the ordeal yet, at the same time, it merely served to intensify the desire. As the teenager spread her legs, the tip of the crop brushed the swollen lips of her gorgeous virgin pussy, caressing its length and prompting a guttural purr. Anthony worked the tip of the crop back and forth without actually penetrating her innermost sanctum and causing Ashlee untold anguish. "Please," she implored.
But, having taken her this far, evidently Anthony wasn't about to just assent to her whim, and Ashlee knew it, expected it even. He was going to toy with her like a cat with a mouse, play mind and power games and exact revenge for her teasing him so relentlessly over this past month. And deep down the girl realised that she deserved every bit of punishment he chose to impose, and more perhaps. Lifting the girl from his knee, Anthony placed her upon her hands and knees on the carpet, crouched before the mirror. She could see him behind her in the mirror, toying with an erection that the wonderful little preliminaries had made rockhard. "Fuck me," she pleaded, imbued with a newfound strength of will and wantonness.
He grinned over her shoulder, crouching behind to tease the lips of her slick pussy with the spongy tip of his hard cock, spooning up a juicy deposit. Firm hands held her waist, and she'd never felt so desirous. Ashlee's whole body yearned for a release. Nothing else mattered. She could probably escape if she wished, yet nothing could be further from her mind. As she braced in readiness for his entry, the mere thought of losing her virginity in this way caused her to spasm. Her pussy glistened.
Yet Anthony wasn't into the conventions of loving coupling, and Ashlee was to be left sorely disappointed as his juice-stained cockhead roved north, over the perineum and nudging at the puckered ring of her arse. Just as she was starting to feel she could trust him, Ashlee felt a cold pang of fear. That fear quickly coalesced as he rammed hard and mercilessly at the tight brown hole, the lube from her pussy and a concrete hard constitution helping to bury a good half of the shaft. Muscles strained and sinews ripped, causing Ashlee to yelp in an humiliating combination of pain and shame.
Anthony held there for ten seconds, hands tight to his captive's hips. Ashlee winced and moaned and whispered how much it hurt and please could he do anything but her anus. Anthony withdrew carefully, yet it almost seemed to draw out with it the inner flesh of the tight passage. Her arse felt like a red hot poker had been inserted and she very nearly vomited. "Please, no," she begged. "Please not my bum, please Anthony."
She knew they were vain protestations. In fact, having come this far, she would have felt somewhat let down had he relented. Trying desperately to relax her sphincter for the next inevitable thrust she feared would bury his cock to the hilt, Ashlee flicked at the clamp that held her nipple tight. Yet it was impossible to disperse the pain away from her raging backside.
Taking aim, Anthony slammed his hard tool against the little virgin knot, issuing a battle-cry. Ashlee screamed too, the pain far outweighing anything she'd felt earlier from the clamp or the crop, elements of pain that now barely registered on the scale. Having her arse torn to shreds by a monster cock was nowhere near the fun she'd salivated over whilst digesting porn movies on the internet. Her face in the mirror was pale and wan, jaw fully extended. "Nooooooo," she squealed, fighting both Anthony and the pain.
"Yesssssss," thundered Anthony, holding his cock inside, marvelling at the feel as the walls of her arse clamped around tightly.
And then he started to move, slowly at first yet each length brought a searing white-hot pain. Ashlee willed him to cum quickly, to end the ordeal, but Anthony was no lightweight. He pumped a dozen times, tearing open the hole ever further with each sure thrust, every jerk causing a grunt or a whimper to slip from Ashlee's lips. When he withdrew, she was convinced the hole had no longer tightened back to its original knot, surely distended from the forceful attack, raw and painfully sore. Ashlee doubted miserably whether she'd ever recover from this anal barbarity, doomed to a life of incontinence.
One hand holding her waist, Anthony's other snaked up her spine, pinching at the nape of her neck before taking a grip on her hair ends. Ashlee felt herself being pulled upwards towards his chest, hot breath warming her neck. Her head lolled as Anthony bit at the flesh, leaving a teethmark. Unrelenting in his invasion of her arsehole, his powerful thighs slapped her buttocks repeatedly. Ashlee groaned as the first stirrings rose within her clit. She knew that the merest touch upon it would tip her over the edge.
Finally Anthony relented, slipping from her arse with a discernible plop, before slamming deep inside her cunt. Ashlee felt her hymen rip, the pain barely registering. A series of long, purposeful strokes ploughed deep, causing both to grunt in unison, his huge gush meeting her powerful squirt, pussy flooding. His cum threatened never to abate, each fresh load triggering a new shattering orgasm like little explosions. Ashlee screamed and screamed and screamed until Anthony was forced to cover her mouth.
The teenager looked up from the sunlounger, cowering as a shadow fell upon her. Yet it was her mother. "You were screaming in your sleep," explained the older woman. "I thought you must be having a nightmare."
"A nightmare?" questioned Ashlee, still groggy, but quickly establishing that she was in her own backyard.
She didn't need to look down to realise the whole crotch of her bikini bottoms was stained a two-tone blue. She could feel how squishy it was. Taking evasive action, she crossed her legs so that the older woman wouldn't see. "No mum, I don't think it was a nightmare," she said with a half-smile. "Actually it was more of a dream."
Yes, it had all been a dream, she convinced herself. Yes, of course it was a dream.
Suddenly her mother shrieked hysterically. "Ashlee, oh my God, what have you gone and done now?"
Ashlee looked back uncomprehendingly before following the line of her mother's eyes to her navel.