JULIE'S NIGHT Julie had gone to bed early that night. She had just turned sixteen and had been studying all day for her school exams, which were coming up in a week's time. A diligent student, she was expected by her parents and teachers to do well. She was blonde and considered attractive and someone had told her that with her combination of looks and brains she would go far. But she was afraid of disappointing her parents and had been up late revising for the last few evenings, and tonight she was dead tired. Bobby, her boyfriend and classmate, had called earlier to wish her goodnight and she now lay under the sheets wearing a white vest and knickers. Sometimes she would wear just the silk negligee that Bobby had bought her for her birthday, which made her feel quite adult, but she thought her period might start tonight and, since on the first night it would be very light, she thought she would be fine in her panties. She had also kept on her white socks because the room was a little chilly and her feet tended to get cold even under the sheets. Having dozed off earlier, she awoke to feel a cool breeze on her face and shoulders. It was dark, and she looked at her alarm clock. The red numerals showed that it was just after midnight. She looked over to the window. She could see the sliver of a new moon against the clear black sky. It cast a weak blue light into the room, too little to make out anything but black shapes. For some reason, the sash window was not completely closed, which explained the cool breeze, although she was sure that she had shut it before retiring. A black shape moved across her field of view. Before she could react, a man was on top of her, his gloved hand across her mouth and body pressing heavily down on her. She smelt the leather and choked against the control. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a metallic flash and felt the tip of a blade being pressed against her cheek. A head, silhouetted against the moonlight, loomed in front of her. A low, raspy voice told her not to move or make a sound. "Just twitch and I'll slice off your tits". His breath, stale and smoky, filled her nostrils. Julie, petrified with terror, lay absolutely still, her glistening eyes wide and nostrils flaring as she inhaled and exhaled in short, sharp breaths. Then the hand was removed and the figure rose so that it straddled her torso. She heard a ripping sound and then a black strip appeared. She cried out a protest as the thick insulating tape was stuck down over her mouth, but her voice was immediately muffled. Still frozen with fear, she heard a belt being unbuckled and a swish as the leather slid against material. Then her wrists were grabbed tightly, causing her to yelp into the gag, and brought together. He tied them with the belt and raised them above her head. His rough woollen sweater scratched against her face as he trussed her wrists firmly to one of the iron bars at the bed head. Julie could not believe what was happening to her. She could not see the man's face but he was big and powerful and she knew that she was completely helpless. Her parents were sleeping along the corridor and her younger brother was downstairs but despite the activity there was little noise to disturb them. Frantically, she tried to work out what to do. Perhaps she could knee him in the groin, but then what would she do? The glint of the blade kept flashing before her eyes, paralysing her. When she was securely tied by the wrists, the man got up and went over to her clothes cupboard. He produced a flashlight and began to rifle through the drawers. Turning it off again, he came back over and pulled off the bedsheets. Grabbing her right leg, he tied one of her stockings around the ankle and, as she struggled, attached the end to a bedpost. He did the same with her other leg, stretching her thighs uncomfortably apart. Julie was shaking with fear as he sat down next to her on the bed and calmly proceeded to roll up her vest to expose her breasts. Although she could see only the barest outline of the man's face in the near-darkness, she could feel his eyes on her and turned away her head in embarrassment. Ever since puberty she had been over conscious of her breasts, which she felt were too large. Never before had they been displayed to anyone except her family and in the girls' changing rooms at school. Feeling a sharp prick against her skin, she spun her head back round and saw again the gleaming metal of the knife. He was running the tip over her skin. She felt the pressure but it was not quite enough to scratch the delicate surface. He found her left nipple and flicked at it with the knife, tracing circles around the teat and lifting it with the tip. The girl, transfixed with terror, followed the glinting point as it moved. Then he traced across to her right breast and, after toying with it for a while, he ran the blade down towards the girl's groin in a wide arc, manipulating the handle with his fingertips, pausing to loop around her navel a few times. Unexpectedly, Julie felt his other hand on her pubic bone, grabbing the fabric of her panties and then, with a couple of hard yanks which shocked her, he had them down to her knees, stretched as far as they would go. In the process he had caught a few of her pubic hairs and her crotch smarted. She jerked as she felt the blade being played across her inner thighs and tried to cry out as the tip was pressed against her sex. He spent several minutes teasing her labia with it, digging it into her clitoris. She swallowed deeply as he did this. He even parted her flesh with his other hand while he passed the blade slightly into her vagina. At any moment, she was convinced that she would feel it slice into her flesh and blood pour out, but he was careful and, despite her shaking and trembling, he did not harm her before putting down the knife on her bedside table with a clunk. Turning back to her, he lifted the cotton vest over her head. He sat next to her, just as her father had done when she was a child as he read to her. The man's was stiff and unkempt but still she could not make out his face. He started fondling her with his rough, calloused hand. The girl felt disgusted and humiliated which, from the quickened pace of his breathing, he clearly found arousing. He groped first one breast then the other, squeezing her nipples painfully between his thumb and forefinger, causing her to wince and cry out into the gag. Then his hand found her crotch and, splaying her labia, he pushed his middle finger into her vagina. She felt his surprise as he found her hymen and from that moment he was careful to press only gently. Abruptly he stood up. Facing her, he turned on the flashlight and shone it into her eyes, blinding her for a moment, then passed the light slowly across her naked body, scrutinising her figure. Julie felt peculiar, spread open and on display, her bare sex fully exposed and cooling in the chill breeze, her nipples hard and stiff against the soft white flesh of her breasts. He walked over to the window and, his back to her, she saw him removing his sweater and undershirt. The black shape bent over and she heard the sound of his jeans coming off. Then, putting his arms to his hips, he slipped off his underpants. As he turned towards her, she saw his erect penis sticking out, a black shaft against the dark blue sky. She was utterly shocked by the size and shape of it -she had never seen one engorged before-and began to struggle as he walked over to her. She had accepted the fact that she was going to be raped, but there was no way she could take that inside her. It would split her body in two. "No" she tried to say though the tape "please, don't hurt me" but the words were totally muffled. He climbed onto her and lay between her legs, his hairy chest against her chin and thick arms on either side. He pulled away the pillow from under her and her head flopped down onto the mattress. His hand was fiddling between her thighs and then she felt the tip of his penis against the mouth of her vagina. "No" she tried to cry again as he began to enter her. Please be gentle she thought, please don't break me. But he was a rough and brutal man and with one hard stroke he was deep inside her body. She felt blood on her thighs. He lay motionless for a few seconds and she felt him swell inside her. His flesh began to press against her cervix and it was uncomfortable and distressing. She tried to move away but his dead weight on her body gave her no chance to resist. He began to move in her, slowly at first and she felt the contours of his shaft against her vaginal walls as he did. She was so tight and he was so large that every time he pushed forward she felt as if she were being opened up by a surgeon. Then his pace abruptly quickened and he was pumping her hard, winding her with every thrust. She could not cry out because she was breathing so heavily and rapidly through her nose but the whole bed was shaking with the force and she thought that her parents must hear something. Her insides felt as if they were being torn to shreds and she gritted her teeth against the trauma. At last she felt her juices begin to flow and he was able to move more easily. A few more sharp thrusts and she felt his chest quiver on top of her. He jerked twice and then, spasming and falling onto her, crushing her breasts, he came in long, hot spurts deep into her vagina. She felt his penis pulse as it emptied. He let out a long sigh. Without a word, he climbed off her and turned away. In a vaguely surreal way, he sat down at her desk and turned on her portable TV, careful first to ensure that the volume was turned down. He flicked between the channels until he found the cartoon station. He sat back to watch The Flintstones, and remained motionless for some time. Julie looked over at her alarm clock. It was 1:30. She groaned: it would be another five hours before her parents would awaken. Julie laid her head back on her bed. Naked, bound and abused, she began to sob quietly. Her vagina felt horribly stretched and torn, and liquid trickled down between her buttocks onto the clean sheets. This was not how it was supposed to be, for god's sake. She had often chatted girlishly with her schoolfriends about losing her virginity. She had assumed that it would be with Bobby, when the time was right, and that he would be a gentleman. She had thought that the man who would take it from her would whisper that he loved her as he did and that he would hold her afterwards and make her safe. But the truth was that she had just been broken in, used as a sex object, and discarded as soon as she had fulfilled her purpose, a hole for him to fuck and empty into. She looked over at the black outline sitting on her chair, amusing himself in front of her television. He reached over to her desk and picked up an unopened bottle of Coke that she had brought up earlier when she had planned to work late. She heard him bite the top between his teeth and spit it out and for a while he sat sipping the drink, chuckling occasionally at the antics on the screen. Eventually, when he became bored with his entertainment, he stood up and came back over to her. He picked up the knife again from the bedside table. At this, the girl started to thrash in her bonds and squeal into the gag. She was sure he had come to finish her off, and was struggling desperately in a futile response to her survival instinct. But he merely used the blade to cut the bonds at her feet, before replacing it and, grabbing her by the ankles, flipping her over onto her front. Then he was on top of her again and she could feel his enormous penis between her buttocks. The glans was against her flesh and he was trying to find her vagina. But something was wrong, and she felt him press firmly and deliberately against her anus. "Please no" she tried to call out but again her words were lost in the gag. With the first thrust his glans was inside her body, pressing against her rectal muscles. She felt she needed to go to the toilet. With an audible sigh, he pushed forward and inward and forced his shaft deep into her bowels. He went so deep that her whole body seemed full of him, even her throat was plugged and she could not swallow. Sharp pains ran through her back and stomach. Then he began to thrust and with each movement she was torn and she cried out in pain and terror. The bed shook violently with each stroke and dimly she thought that at least someone must overhear this, this violence, this terrible assault. But what would she do if her father found her like this? Tied like an animal, being sodomised by this brute? She knew she would never be able to look at her parents in the same way. They would still love her, but their golden girl would be gone forever, as good as dead. It would send her mother mad. Realising this, she actually tried to quieten herself but the pain forced ugly, bestial noises from her throat as she struggled to keep up her breathing through her nose. By the time he finally came the poor girl was completely hysterical and, despite the gag, bawling like an wounded child. He withdrew sharply, and she felt her bowels wrenched as he did. She hoped he had not injured her so much that she would need to be hospitalised, again the fear of her parents finding out looming much larger in her consciousness than the worry of the physical damage. As she lay weeping into the white sheets, she at least could console herself that he had finished with her for the time being. Probably those two ejaculations, which judging by their force must have drained him, would be enough for the night. Now all that remained was to discover whether she would be released or killed. She looked over her right shoulder to the knife, which lay on the table ready for use. She wondered how the pain would be as he carved into her. She had heard somewhere that when the cut was really deep it did not hurt that much. She hoped it would be that way. The man did not get up quite yet. Placing his hand on her abdomen, he hissed "On you knees, whore" and immediately she found herself in that position, legs apart, breasts against the mattress and wrists strapped tight to the iron bar at the bedhead. As she shifted her weight from one knee to the other, her arse swayed provocatively. She felt the mattress shake as he got up. Evidently, he had decided to inspect the results of his effort. Her arsehole felt grossly distended, as if she had just had an enormous bowel movement. But as she down between her dangling blue breasts, she could just make him out at her desk. He was rummaging again in the drawer and she saw him withdraw what looked like one of her belts. He also picked up the Coke bottle but did not raise it to his lips. The bed shifted again: he had come back to her. In front of her face she saw the belt, the one she had bought last month at the mall. He had looped it through the buckle and, yanking her back by her hair, passed it over her head and tightened it around her neck. Then he tugged upwards and, straining to keep the pressure off her throat, she rose up so that she was on all fours. Standing above her, he held the belt in his left hand and controlled her with it. She felt her buttocks being parted and something cold being offered up to her vagina. And then the top of the glass bottle was inside her. The moulded rim felt rather like his penis, though colder, harder and perhaps without its girth. How could this be happening, she thought? As he manipulated the object inside her vagina, he hissed obscenities at the writhing teenager. He called her filth, a slut, a dirty cunt, he told her she was fat and ugly, that no nice boy would want her now. Through clenched teeth, he muttered that she must be stupid, retarded, how could she still have been a virgin at her age. He had done her a favour by breaking her in and that she should thank him for it. Her cunt was too small anyway, at least for a man with a dick his size. He pushed the bottle deep into her body, the hard tip hitting her cervix and causing her legs to quiver. When he felt that she would collapse, still holding her by the leash in his palm, he would put his forefinger into her distended arsehole and hold her up. Julie was so disgusted with her own behaviour that she wanted to die. She had brought this on herself somehow, she knew it. No man, no matter how beastly, could do such a thing to a nice girl. She was a whore and deserved to be treated like one. Perhaps he would stuff a roll of bills into her arse when he was through with her. She had earned it. She thought about killing herself. If he didn't do it, and she half hoped that he would when he was finally done with her, she would have to. Slash her wrists and sit in a hot bath. Warmth, comfort, tenderness, just for a few moments before she passed away. After this brutal, callous abuse. He held her head up with the leash as he fucked her with the bottle, and he began deliberately to knock the collar against her clitoris with each movement. Julie, desperate, disorientated and confused, began to feel a strange sensation grow between her legs. God no, she thought, this can't be. She heard laughter. Her distress added to her sensitivity and from her throbbing clitoris waves of heat emanated through her abdomen and into her chest. Her nipples started to swell and her abdominal muscles contracted in spasms. Then, to her horror, she came, breathing out hard into the tape gag, drawing in air frantically through her nostrils. She tried to scream out her lungs, finally releasing the pain and despair, but as the belt tightened around her throat it cut off her cries. Her head started to spin and bright stars appeared before her eyes. Then, she lapsed into unconsciousness. Julie awoke to the sound of her alarm. She looked across: it was 6:30, the usual time. Turning over, she caught her feet in her panties, which were around her ankles. She kicked them off. Her vest was rolled up next to her head and as she moved she felt the edge of her leather belt against her cheek. With a jerk of her arm she flicked it away from her body. Mechanically, she stood up, kicking her toes against the bottle on the floor, sending it rolling across her bedroom to the leg of her desk, where it rested. She picked it up gingerly with her fingertips and dropped it into the wastebin. Pulling on her dressing-gown, she left her room and walked along the landing towards the bathroom. She heard noises from her parents' room and, fearful that they might see her in this state, hurried in, slamming and locking the door behind her. The hot water under the shower was cleansing, absolving. She began to feel less filthy. Squeezing out some gel from the bottle on the shelf, she began soaping her breasts. Taking some more, she washed her thighs, the sticky film carried away down her legs. She watched the water disappear down the plug hole. She cleaned her pubes and the crack between her buttocks. Then, with another handful of soap, she tentatively probed between her legs. Her clitoris was sore and swollen from the vigorous fingering she had given herself that night. She rubbed the gel gently into the folds of her flesh, tingling again as her senses reacted to the stimulation. As she did so, she reflected that Bobby really was a lost cause: he would never treat her the way she wanted. She needed to find a real man. None of her classmates would satisfy: they were just children. She wondered where she should go to meet such a type. Then, her mind turned to practicalities and she tried to remember whether she had packed her trainers in her gym bag. She had netball practice today.
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