Joan Kelly - Rape me!

"I… I really think I'd rather not."

Wayne pushed the bottle up towards me. "But you must. It's a maritime law." He smoothed his beard.

"We're not on the ocean," I said.

"Ah, my sweety, we are on the ocean of the great American road, adrift in a lost hound, bound for God-knows-where."

The other sailor laughed. "You tell her, Wayne!" Someone in a seat up the aisle glanced back, turned to continue reading.

"I really don't want to," I said. Wayne's mad eyes glittered.

"Then we'll be forced to turn you over to the authorities."

"What?"

"I happen to know you are a runaway." He took my wrist. "You couldn't be more than sixteen, lassie. Your parents must have notified the police already. They have your description, they'll be looking in every depot." He was reading my reaction to his words. I tried to keep up a front, but the truth was that what he was saying had me scared. I hadn't thought that something like this might happen. My dad… yes, he was capable of it.

"I'm on my way to see a relative," I told the sailor, nodding to make it look more convincing. "My parents know perfectly well where I…"

"You're lying." His eyes bored into me. I knew I was losing ground. "Come with us, lassie." His grip tightened on my wrist, then let go. My senses reeled. I might tell the driver that the sailors were bothering me, but what if Wayne held true to his bluff? What if he told them, made them check? I knew it could happen. Slowly I got up and followed Wayne and the other sailor back to their seat, the long seat which stretched across the back of the bus. They got me between them and Wayne handed the bottle over.

"I really don't want more than a sip."

"Drink deep." It was an order. There was an urgency in Wayne's voice, the same mad heat I'd noticed in his eyes. He licked the ends of his mustache. He wasn't bad-looking but he scared me. The other sailor put his hand on my jeaned thigh. I looked down, looked up at Wayne with frightened eyes.

"Herm only recognizes your beauty, as do I." He put his hand on my other thigh. Wayne's hand was warmer, stronger. I felt him squeeze his fingertips against my flesh.

"I think I'd better go back to my seat."

"You haven't had a drink yet," the other sailor said, the one named Herm. I started to get up, but Wayne shoved me back down. I heard the knife blade flick before I saw it shining. Herm had it. He waved it slowly back and forth. Wayne smiled, reached his fingers out to touch my face.

"Herm here has never used his blade on a lassie before, have you, Herm?"

"I don't remember," Herm said. His smile was only half in fun. I didn't know how to take either one of them. The blade traced a line up my belly. I felt it tickle over the place where one of my nipples was crushed down under my bra and jersey. The first button of my jeans came undone. Wayne was already working on the second one when I grabbed his hand. The knife blade touched my wrist, dug in a little. Wayne went on unbuttoning me.

"We wouldn't hurt a lassie," he said through his smile. I opened my mouth, closed it again, finally found my nerve.

"You'd better let me go back."

Wayne took my face roughly. "We're AWOL, my sweet young thing. We've robbed three liquor stores and left a trail of ruin behind us. Do you think we're afraid of bending you to our will?" I was trembling openly. I closed my eyes and was surprised when Wayne kissed me. I felt his mustache tickling over my upper lip, felt his beard. He tongued my teeth apart and speared deep into my mouth. I was afraid to resist and with him kissing me like that, the beat of the bird's wings inside my chest made me feel weak and gaspy. Wayne started pulling my jeans down off my ass.

"Don't…" The knife touched my cheek. I could feel the point.

"We're pirates, lassie," Wayne said. "Don't forget it." I raised up and let him slide them down my thighs. The coolness on my skin made me shiver again. Herm was staring at my white skin, the stretched silk V my panties made. A car passed the bus and both the sailors watched when the reflected wash of the lights lit our back corner, lit my naked belly and the skimpy pale-blue nylon that covered my pubes.

"Take them the rest of the way off," Wayne told Herm. Herm started wrestling the pants legs off over my shoes. I closed my eyes and felt a hot tear wet my cheek.

"Ah, she's crying." Wayne licked the tear away. "That excites me." I tried to stop, choked back my sobs. Herm folded my pants and put them behind him.

"What are you going to…" I stopped, scared into silence. Herm was tickling my inner thigh with his knife.

"Take those off, too," Wayne told me. His voice had no playfulness left in it, nor did his eyes.

"My panties?"

"Off!"

I couldn't look at either one of them as I hooked my thumbs in the elastic and slid the nylon down off my hips. The crotch piece came away from my cuntlips wetly, peeled away with a sticky sound. I knew my pussy was wet, but didn't feel anything but scared. Wayne took the silken underwear from my hand and wadded it against his face.

"These are mine now." He breathed in the scent of my cunt, then stuffed the panties into his pocket. "Now put your hand in your pussy."

"What did you buy?"

"Here…" Wayne shoved my fingers down between my thighs while Herm held my knee. Wayne took the other knee and forced my legs apart. I squirmed, tried to look towards the front of the bus but found that the small restroom was in the way. The driver couldn't see what was happening, couldn't tell that they had me…

"Come on, you can do better than that." Wayne watched as I touched the outer cuntlips, pretending to rub my gash. The knife tip pricked the back of my finger, pricked another. I pushed harder against my warm cunt mound and felt the outer twat lips spread slightly. A hot bath of sex honey wet me. I gritted my teeth.

"You damn well better, you bitch!" Herm said.

"Now, now, Herman. We must be patient." Wayne put his lips against my cheek, kissed me with his tongue there. I closed my eyes. The knife raked a little harder against my knuckles. Part of the blade touched my thigh. I pushed the finger even deeper, felt the velvet edges of my inner pussy petals. They clung to my fingertip and when I rubbed upwards, the butter squished loud enough for Wayne to hear. He smiled slowly, a smile of knowing things about me, secret things.

"Deeper," he told me.

"No!"

"Deeper…"

My face was flushed with anger and shame. The shame of having these two strangers seeing my nakedness and worse, watching me finger-fuck myself! It was ugly and wrong.

"Perhaps the blade would better serve."

"No, don't do that…" I pushed my finger down along my gash, felt the very bottom of its slickness. I felt the tiny clump of flesh that was my ruined hymen, jerked away. Wayne caught my wrist, forced me back to touch my wet slit again.

"Let's see how deep in your snatch you can go."

"Please…" But my finger was already just inside the ring of muscles that circled the mouth of my cunt. I let out a held breath, filled my lungs again. It was hard to get air normally. My breathing came in shallow, hot pants and as I touched deeper inside my hole, a tingling buzz built along the insides of my thighs, between my toes, in a dozen special places on my body. The slick pussy juice spread back over all my fingers now. I wanted to weep. The thrill I didn't want to feel was taking over my senses anyway. I tried to lose my thoughts in the drone of the big engine under the seat and in the bouncy rhythm of the bus along the highway. But the friction of my fingers in my sappy, spread cunt had control of my every nerve. Wayne forced my head back on the seat. I was panting hard flaw, and there wasn't any way to hide it.

"Fuck your finger in and out," he demanded. "Make it go deep."