Ron Taylor - Roped and raped

"Oooooohbh!" she trilled against my lips, but she didn't pull away.

It was a long moist kiss, and I was trembling by the time it finished. Emmylou had a soft, sweet mouth, and it had parted ever so slightly as my lips caressed it – just far enough for the tip of my tongue to press forward, into her warm, soft wetness. My nipples were achingly erect, and I wished I had time to show her my gratitude as I felt it by throwing her down and making mad, passionate love to the girl. She needed love, and I wanted to give it to her.

"Thank you, darling," I told her. "You won't regret it."

"Why did you kiss me?" She rubbed her lips with the back of her fingers. Her eyes were fully opened, luminous, heart-stirring.

"Because you looked as if you needed to be kissed."

"I think I did," Emmylou giggled. "But I feel funny now. All tingly. Nobody ever kissed me before. Not like that."

I should have ignored her and gone about my duty of escaping, but there was such an appealing invitation in her voice. "Really, Emmylou? Would you… would you like me to kiss you again?"

She came into my arms timidly, but her body rubbed mine up and down and she was a warm, ripe bundle to hold. I fondled her silky hair, following it to where it touched her shoulders, and then down her back. The dress fit tightly on her hips and I smoothed the wrinkles that had formed there. Emmylou stirred against me and her tits moved like little puppies just below mine. I cupped her ass and aimed my face down at hers. She parted her lips freely this time, just as my mouth touched them, and my tongue shot into her.

Oh, God, I knew as our mouths rubbed and our tits nuzzled that she was ripe and ready for it, that I could have her now, here, merely for the asking. The blanket I'd wrapped around my shoulders fell away and my bare tits bumped her chest. One of Emmylou's hands came up, trapping a breast and its hard, hot nipple. She purred wonderingly into my kissing mouth and she began to squeeze and stroke the treasure she had discovered. I took a tighter grip on the buns of her ass and pulled her body against mine. Our legs entangled and we swayed in a gentle rocking motion that kept brushing out tits and cunts together.

I lifted the hem of her skirt and touched the panty-covered cheeks of her butt. She felt warm and very moist through the wispy film of nylon, and I couldn't wait. I thrust my hands inside.

Have you ever felt electrical energy ripple through flesh? It was that way when I touched Emmylou's bare buns. She jerked, but not away from me, and my fingers moved inside the panties, tickling, stroking. Oh, God, give me strength! I prayed. It was no time to initiate this child in the highways and by-ways of love. We should be running for our lives, looking for help. Not kissing one another as if kissing were going out of style, petting one another's bodies, throwing ourselves into love as if we had all the time in the world…

I heard a bell clanging, and I was so wrapped up in Emmylou that I dismissed the sound as a figment of my imagination, brought on by excitement. Not until Emmylou was literally torn from my arms and a big beefy hand slapped my face, did I understand what was happening.

Panting, his trousers already unzipped, Luke Tolliver stood glaring at the two of us. I could smell whiskey fumes. His face was twisted into a gloating sneer.

"What in the Goddamn fuck is goin' on, girls?" he asked.

"Oh, God, no!" Emmylou whispered, sinking to the floor in a harried crouch that reminded me of a trapped animal, cowering from the stalking hunter. Luke reached for her wrist and jerked her to her feet. Once, twice, three times he cuffed her face back and forth. She screamed at the first slap, and I threw myself upon Luke, fists made, beating at his ugly face.

Luke was strong as an ox. He backhanded me, sent me sprawling, and then he struck Emmylou again.

"I can see what's goin' on," he said finally. "Little whore come out here an' let you loose, didn't she? Little whore thought we's all asleep. Little whore don't know shit from apple butter."

He let the girl sag to the floor and she lay crying. Luke turned, hurrying to the barn door. He pushed it open and again there was a clanging sound. Of course! He'd mentioned something about attaching a bell to the door.

"Pa! Randy! Get your asses out to the barn! On the fuckin' double!" He let the door come shut and he marched toward us.

"Well, well," he grinned, eyeing a pair of frightened women. "Looks like Emmylou had a couple ideas 'bout you an' her, don't it, bitch?"

He drew back his foot as if he meant to kick me. I braced myself, but the blow never came.

"You an' her, standin' there kissin' on each other, feelin' each other up. That's disgustin'! Made me sick to watch you. I reckon Emmylou's got a touch of queer in her, don't she?"

"Don't blame her," I told him. "It's my fault. I threatened her. I told her if she didn't untie me, I'd…" The lie was too improvised. I couldn't complete the sentence.

"Shut the fuck up!" Luke growled. "This is family business, and you ain't family! How about it, Emmylou? You got a touch of the queer? How come you was kissin' on this girl?"

She didn't get a chance to answer. The bell clanged loudly and Pa and Randy entered the barn. Pa wore an untied bathrobe over his underwear. Randy was bare-chested and bare-footed, wearing only a pair of trousers whose belt hadn't been fastened.

"What's wrong, son?" Pa asked in his nasal rasp.

While Luke was telling him, Patty came lumbering in as well. She caught most of the story and I heard her say, "Whooooo-eeeee!" in a giggly, detestable tone.

Pa approached the cowering Emmylou. "Is all that true, girl? Did you come out here an' untie that girl? Was you doin' them foul, disgusting things with her when Luke caught you?"

She whimpered, her face averted. Pa shook his head, almost sadly. "I'll be Goddamned," he sighed nasally. "Take a child into your family bosom, and she turns out to be a viper, waitin' only for the chance to strike you with her fangs. Girl, don't you know that if she leaves here on two feet, she'll go lookin' for a policeman? Is that how you repay us for giving you a home? By sellin' us to the law?"

"My God," I cut in. "You're insane! All of you are insane. That child has been abused sexually, physically and mentally ever since she came here. Your sons dragged me into a truck and raped me, then carried me to this barn and raped me again. And you have the balls to stand there talking about family responsibilities!"

Patty giggled again, but no one else said anything. That was a bad sign. I braced myself to be hit or kicked.

"You know, Pa," Randy ventured, "it seems to me that Emmylou's done gone and abused our hospitality. Why should we have to worry about what you promised Ma?"

The girl whined in fear. Pa scratched his bald head. The bathrobe fell widely open and I could see the gray hairs on his chest, the tip of his tool hanging out the front of his boxer shorts.

"Son, I think you may be right," he said at last. "After all, if she don't have no respect for her family, why she's nothin' more than a thing to be stepped on, to be tramped in the dust."

"Hot damn!" Luke exulted, bounding towards the prostrate girl. He lifted her from the floor. "Y'all remember," he went on. "I always said her cherry was gonna be mine!"

"Please!" Emmylou whispered, but Luke paid no attention.

He pulled the girl to her feet, holding her up with one hand. The other he used to rip the front of her cheap print dress open. She screamed and tried to cover her suddenly bare tits, but not before I had a heart-breaking glimpse of two perfect little apples, each capped in ovals of pink.

Luke caught his thumb and finger in the waistband of her white panties and he ripped them, too. They tore, and he flung them across the barn. Emmylou dropped one hand to shield her cunt. Luke grabbed each of her hands, pulling them out until she stood upright in a cruciform position, and she could hide nothing.