1 comments/ 26691 views/ 13 favorites Kevin's Hurt By: andromon Two years ago that scrawny shit Kevin raped my sister. He is a blond soft-spoken shortie, effeminate and timid, but with women he's entirely different. He was wearing a mask, but she was able to easily recognize him. He hit her a few times until she was too scared to resist, then tied her hands behind her back and raped her repeatedly, and when he was done, he dropped her off in the street, shaken and battered and suicidal. He was found, but due to a procedural error, he wasn't convicted. The procedural error may have not been merely a mistake either. Sadly, it's not impossible to bribe an officer, and it isn't even all that expensive. Regardless, Kevin got completely off the hook. For a while. A year has passed. I'm sure he's already forgotten about my sister. Kevin has actually offered to buy her a drink at a bar where she accidentally met him last month. Was he really that stupid? Or was he even wore than I thought? I certainly haven't forgotten anything, and I wasn't going to let go. I could have easily broken every bone in his scrawny body, but then I would go to jail for assault, and I could do better. I looked into his life a bit and found that he had a girlfriend. I also got acquainted with his middle-aged mother. I wasn't going to rape, of course, because I wasn't like him, and because, again, I didn't fancy serving time as a sex offender. But I was hell-bent on breaking him, and finally an opportunity presented itself. His mother, a woman in her thirties, was apparently in the habit of going to a nearby bar and gradually getting completely shitfaced every couple of months to let off some steam. Sometimes she'd drink with a girlfriend or even a stranger, and drink some more alone when they've left, and then more still, until she had to be driven home in a kind of near-stupor. One guy saw her get driven to a hotel room by a guy she met. In a word, the lady was clearly lots of fun and an enviable target. But I didn't want it to be that simple. Fucking Kevin's mother was no particular punishment. She was not a slut, but certainly not a nun either, and Kevin okay with that. No, my aim was higher. I kept looking until another one of her binge-drinking sessions came up, which she was in a habit of more or less announcing on Facebook. Her female friend, a tired-looking woman who only drank beer, appeared near her, chat with her for a while, and then left. She stayed, true to her habit, and ordered a whiskey. That's when I appeared and offered to buy her a couple of drinks. The already tipsy woman soon agreed, and in half an hour I was listening to parts of her life-story and having her laugh at my comedic interjections. She was wearing a ruffled blouse and a pair of tight-fitting pants, her blond hair (so similar to her son's) was long and straight, and, sinister plans aside, I might have bed this lady even in my free time. Talking to her wasn't that fun, though. She had a classless mixture of conservative and wildly radical opinions on politics, race, gender - pro-war, pro-abortion, pro-Buddhism, anti-Islam, all sorts of wild surprising assumptions, beliefs and superstitions (she believed in vaccine, but was also a firm believer in the supernatural and thought that a healer is preferable to a doctor, because 'all doctors are charlatans'). I had no reason to seriously argue with the pretty, but apparently stupid woman. The tipsier she was, the less coherent her opinions got, until her face was stuck at my chest, apparently dozing off, with her arm on my ass and mine on her. "Shall I take you home?" I said, and she agreed with a giggle. In the car she tried to start something, but fell asleep before she managed to unzip me. I woke her up every couple of minutes, because the last thing I needed was having her sober up. I put a couple of beers on her lap, and every time she opened her eyes she opened one and then adorably zoned back out again. When we were there, she reached to ring, mumbling, "Oh, I'm home, huh. Right..." I kept her hand down. She tried to focus on me. "Don't you have keys?" I said. "In my bag." She stood there as I looked through her bag. Under a pack of some hygienic stuff I found the keys, fished them out and took her into the house. She switched on the lights and tried taking off her shoes, but almost toppled and burst out laughing. I helped her stay upwards. "Keep the shoes on, Emma, kitten," I said. She reached up and nibbled at my ear. Perhaps humoring me, or perhaps she'd forgotten all about them, she kept her heels and, dropping her bag awkwardly on the floor, pulled my hand with newfound strength towards the stairs. Upstairs we stumbled into her bedroom and dropped on it, kissing. I got a good feel of her body through her blouse and pants, and was as eager to get those off her as well. Her breasts squeezed out to freedom as I half-unbuttoned her blouse and pulled down the cups of her bra, while the woman kept groping and petting the bulge in my pants with a drunken, unfocused smile. Kneeling on the bed in front of me, she tried sucking me off, but, unlike all those times in the car, on the stairs and in front of her house, - she was about to succeed. As she worked to free my cock from what apparently must have seemed to her an incomprehensible labyrinth of cloth, I reached over and slipped my hand down her pants. Finally, there was a voice outside the door. "Mom... are you home?" With a bland expression Emma looked up. "Suck me off, kitten," I whispered, and so she did as I played with her ass under the fabric. "Are you home, mom?" said Kevin somewhere outside our room. "Are you drunk again, you..." Emma heard nothing. Having finally gotten to my cock, she let out a grateful sound and immediately got to work: I felt her breath on my skin, then a moist kiss, and then she sucked most of my cock into her mouth and started working on it with her tongue. She kept doing it for a little bit, but then stopped almost completely, perhaps falling asleep. I put my hand in her hair. "Go on, girl, don't sleep," I said and nudged her slightly, rousing another bout of vigorous sucking. She wasn't at all bad, and I liked her curvy body, too. Her round butt packed tight in her pants, her soft breasts supporting each other like a pair of sisters as their owner crouched on all fours on the bed near me - I was enjoying it all. But of course there was more to it. "Mom, are you there?" said Kevin, and then there was a knock at the door. His mother let out a confused "Mhm..?" and looked up from my crotch, but I nudged her face back to my crotch. Without waiting for an answer, though, Kevin, just opened the door. He was wearing that stern, bored expression. For a couple of seconds he stood there at the door. Emma's face was stuck at my crotch, all he could see was her ass as she knelt in front of me. As he was simply staring, doing nothing, I flipped him off and, pawing his mother's ass, whispered, "Can't you see mommy's busy?" Emma looked up at me. I blew her a kiss. Kevin just stood at the door. Anyone would have fought me right then and there, but, apparently, not this piece of shit. By this time, I knew his character well. He was easily intimidated; perhaps that's why he chose rape as a method of getting it on: although he wasn't bad-looking in his own girly way, he was such an obvious wimp. "Don't do that, Dan," he finally managed to whisper. "Oh, you remember my name?" "Dan, why are you doing this? Don't..." Drifting in and out of consciousness, Emma was still trying to blow me, moaning something incomprehensible, and finally using my cock for a pacifier and my crotch for a pillow. I motioned at Kevin. "Come here." "Dan, please, let my mother go. Can't you see she is drunk?" "I said come here, you dumb piece of shit." He made a few steps towards me, increasingly defiant the closer he got, perhaps because the look of his mother fellating me was finally getting on his nerves. When Kevin was within my reach, which was quite before I was in his, I grabbed him and, stirring Emma but not quite waking her up from her cock-sucking stupor, threw him onto the bed right next to his mother and pinned him down. He tried to free himself, so I grabbed him with both hands, used my weight to hold him steady and twisted his arm to the point of breaking. His face was stuck into the bedsheets. He let out a muffled wail. I twisted harder and told him to shut it. Then I pushed his mother aside (she rolled onto her back and let out a comical snore; her breasts were a marvel) and, holding Kevin down hard, spoke into his ear: "You little piece of shit, do you want to survive this? If you do, keep your fucking calm and stop squirming about. If you're too stupid to see, me and your mom are getting busy, so you should better go down and play some games or watch a cartoon or whatever other shit you do when you mommy's entertaining a guest. She's about to spread for me, and you don't have the power to stop it. Interfere, and I'll fucking punch out your teeth. Got me, you little cunt?" He managed to nod. I eased my grasp. "Please, please, don't," he whispered when I let him rise his stupid blond head. He was so weak in my arms that I think I could've squished him like a bug if I wanted, and I certainly let him feel it. I wouldn't have done any of that, but I bet on his cowardice, and the bet seemed a win. Shaking lightly, Kevin awkwardly crawled to the edge of the bed and looked on in horror as I moved to his mom and started to pull off her shirt, to which she responded with a drowsy giggle. He started pleading with me in a low voice. I ignored him and called out to Emma. She woke up confused, but still horny, registered my presence and reached out to grab me and kiss, so kiss we did. "Please, no, I'm begging you, no, Dan, please, not my mom, please no," hissed Kevin, his hands shaking, as he looked on, doing nothing: truly, he was a worm. I gave him a wink and started taking off his mother's pants. She responded and started trying to help me undress her. Emma's thighs were squeezed in them rather tight, so it took the drunk two of us quite a bit of wriggling and giggling until the woman was left in her panties - white silk with a semi-sheer crotch. "You're a tease, you little slut," I spoke in her ear, and got a horny moan in response. Kevin was sitting motionless on the edge of the bed. Emma lay in front of me with her eyes closed, hands holding onto me. I helped her spread her legs really wide and bit into her pussy through silky-soft fabric. Emma let out a moan. Her sad excuse for a son merely stared. His chin shook, but he was afraid of me - too afraid to resist or fight back. I occasionally kept an eye on him as I ate out his mother. After a bit I told Emma to take off her panties. "Dan..." she whispered, smiling, with her eyes still closed. She started pulling them off. I helped her. In one single motion they were down to her ankles. "Oh god," gasped Kevin, as his mother's legs rose in the air, panties dangling from her left ankle. I crawled on top of her, my cock, wet with her saliva, waiting at the opening of her more-than-ready, soaking cunt. "You're so wet, you little slut." "Don't call me that," Emma mumbled, giggling and pretend-fighting me as she held onto me. She grabbed my ass, I started squeezing her tits. At this point there was no reason for me to hold back. In a matter of seconds I was fucking the woman exactly the way that she asked me for back in the car. Emma's eyes were still closed, but her mouth was not. She moaned and gasped with my every thrust, licked her lips and stuck out her tongue. I gave her a finger, which she immediately vacuumed in and started sucking on so hard that it was actually pleasant. Then Kevin jumped at me. For a second I managed to have forgotten about him, immersed in his mother, and, to be honest, rather drunk myself. But the so-called son wasn't even going to try and fight me off her. Instead he grabbed my arm and started begging to let his mother go. He said that I was the strongest, that I've proven everything that had to be proven, that he was a worm and admitted it here and now, and that I had to stop or he'd kill himself if this continues or something. At this point the barely conscious and immeasurably horny Emma seemed to have somewhat registered his presence. "Kevin?" she said, wrinkle forming on her pretty forehead. "Whuh... what are you, huh..?" She narrowed her eyes and put her palm on my chest, her legs moved closer together, and her pussy got tense. She tried to focus. Without stopping my thrusts, I showed Kevin a fist, touching the tip of his nose with my knuckles, and then pinned Emma back to the bed. "It's me, silly. Nobody's here. Did you mistake me for him, you horny little..?" "Oh god!" She started laughing embarrassedly. "Daniel.. oh god. Oh yeah, fuck me, oh you animal..." Quickly relaxing as sex and alcohol drowned out her senses again, she wrapped her legs around my back and pressed on my ass, forcing my cock deed into herself. We got it on steady and hard. After a bit I turned her over, spread her willing legs and, pinning her down exactly the way the she wanted, finished in her from behind. As I fucked Emma to her own orgasm, I occasionally gave threatening glances at Kevin, who was still on the edge of our bed. Then I noticed something. The crotch of his pants was wet. Did he piss himself? Oh wait, no, he didn't: he came. "You little shit," I said amiably and gave him a shove. Kevin shrank at the sight of my fist. He was visibly shaking, his effeminate face was pink-eyed and red-nosed. From looking at him, you'd never know that this excrement could rape a girl. Finally, we were done. I snuggled together with my busty Emma (her son still motionless on the edge of our bed) until she finally, gratefully fell asleep on her side, her welcoming breasts pressed against me, her left leg on mine. When she blacked out completely, I got off the bed and, flailing my glistening cock, grabbed her shaking blond douche of a son. "What the hell are you even doing here anyway, huh? Get out of my and your mother's room. Kevin, you--you better believe me that you are so much more pathetic than I thought you were, and that's saying something. I'm actually appalled at how stupid you are." "Please don't hurt her anymore." "Does she look hurt?" "You've raped her, Dan!" "No, I haven't raped shit. We spend an evening together. She wanted my cock the moment she laid eyes on me, and she got what she wanted. Couldn't you hear her screaming my name as I fucked her? Oh yeah, you could hear it well. Hear what, your mommy's cunt is all right. It's soft, it's warm and can squeeze a cock like a hand. She was good, I liked her. She gives good head. And her tits are so fine, check them out--no, you piece of shit, I said check them out, they're huge. Are you proud?" "Please don't touch me," was all he could say. I shoved a fist under his nose once again. "See this?" He was ready to break. "Why is this happening?!" "Because you deserve this, you fucker. Now get lost." And, without waiting for him to get up, I threw him out of Emma's bedroom myself. He started crying behind the door as I returned into his mother's bed. *** I and Emma woke together late in the morning. I put my hand on her pussy, still sloppy after yesterday, and fingered her until she asked me to do her. Twenty minutes and a blow job in the shower later, Emma sheepishly introduced me to Kevin downstairs. She didn't remember much of yesterday. How her cute milfy head worked was not of my concern either way; she thought that we were about to start dating, but she obviously saw how distressed her son was as he was leaving the house, barely answering her concerned silly questions about whether everything was all right. "I'll talk to him," said Emma when Kevin left. "Don't worry." "I don't. I know you'll manage, you're a good mom." She beamed and went for a kiss. Since we were alone in the house now, she knelt with a wry smile and blew me in the middle on the kitchen. All vengeance aside, I liked her. My new fuckbuddy Emma may have been a simple person, but she was real handy in bed. In the span of a couple of weeks the airheaded woman got really attached to me. She was very ashamed that she was bringing home a man her son's age, but she loved all the sex and the specks of romance too much to just cut it all off. She didn't have much to do, she talked incomprehensibly and at length about her non-descript office job and minor intrigues that bored even herself, about her son and his problems (she started blabbing about his legal problems almost right away), and there was nothing else much to her life at that time. Thus, our sex has become a highlight. She giggled and played like a kitten, was very open to all sorts of experimentation, and gradually was increasingly shameless regarding her son. She's convinced herself than being fifteen years older than me is completely unimportant to anyone, even though it was clearly very important to Kevin: he was absolutely not getting used to us "dating" - that is, fucking noisily every now and then in her bedroom. Trying new things with Emma was easy and fun. Seducing her into all sorts of stuff took no work. What I had to work for was making Kevin aware of the things that we did without disgusting his mother too much, because, obviously, that was a part of the reason for me doing anything there at all. But this "good mother" did not make it too complex for me. Bit by bit it turned into a sort of a family in-joke - like, of course mommy and her newfound lover do it, and Kevin is obviously an adult and does understand. He sure did, and I tried not to let this understanding of Kevin's turn into a habit for him like it did for his mom. I slapped her soft ass, grabbed her tits every now and then, held her and gave her deep kisses in front of him. One a day, when the two of us were especially playful, Kevin came back from community college sooner than normal. We've been fooling around with a newly-bought dildo. When Emma heard the door open, she scrambled to get herself decent, but I didn't allow her to take the rubber cock out of her pussy. She hastily threw on a skirt and a shirt, and I got her to pull on her panties. Kevin looked tired, and he sure wasn't thrilled to see me there either. He could obviously tell by his mother's disheveled look what was going on on the couch just a moment ago. It had a clearly depressing effect on him, and Emma noticed that. She caringly asked what was wrong. "The kid is just tired," I said. "Let him be." Kevin shot me a glance. "No, what's wrong, baby?" "I'm fine." "He is fine," I said and wrapped my hands around her from behind. She looked back and smiled at me, I let her turn around and gave her a kiss. "Well, Kevin, mom still has something to take care of, so..." "Daniel!" "Mommy's got a new toy, it's a big black--" "Shut up, Daniel! God!" She was lusty and furious, horny, shameful, wide-eyed and frowning. "What, don't believe me?" I said to Kevin, who was just standing there, a laptop case hanging from his arm. "I'm not lying, look." I pulled up her skirt and cupped her ass so that the rubber dick pushing out of her cunt and into her panties was properly visible. Emma broke free, gave me a slap on the shoulder and ran upstairs. I looked at Kevin. Now he looked outright tragic. I could hear him breath. His fingers bend into knuckles. Was he going to fight me? No, he wasn't, he just ran past me and hid in his room, while I followed his mother upstairs. "Why did you do that?" she told me when I entered her room. I wrapped Emma in my arms and gave her a kiss. She weakly defended herself. The soaked dildo was on the table, wrapped in an unevenly torn piece of paper towel. Kevin's Hurt "Come on, he's a big boy, of course he understands," I said. "He was disgusted." "He didn't even see anything." I picked up the dildo and put it on her lap. Emma grabbed it and threw it aside. I kept holding her, so she gave in, but sat facing away from me. I blew in her ear. "He was disgusted," she said again after a bit of silence. "Of course he wasn't. He loves you," I whispered in her ear. "He cares about you. And so do I." Emma turned away from my kiss, so I kissed her neck. She sat there with an unforgiving look as I slowly pulled her top off her breasts, milky melons that they were. When I pinched both her nipples and twisted them gently between my fingers, she let out a gasp, but kept the stern look on her face. I had to think something up. "Well, actually, I had something in mind today. I want to take you somewhere. Can you guess where?" "No." I put my hands on her thighs. She didn't resist, but tried her best not to respond. "Let's go to the bar where we met. Let's go there together, the two of us. Will you go with me?" I made a kissing sound near her cheek. She turned to me and looked me in the eyes, then closed her eyes and kissed me back. Half an hour later I got to parade Emma in front of her son in her wearing a cocktail dress, heels, night-out makeup, and we spent the rest of the day adventuring here and there, including the one "our" bar, and especially in the latter place's restroom, where Emma - as bad a drinker as ever - ended up blowing me in front of some stranger and then rolling up her dress and offering herself to me as she bent over a urinal. *** I wasn't a man with a plan. I thought that I've done everything that I wanted, as Kevin's life was already more or less ruined. Not only was my relationship with his mother obviously degrading to him, but, ours being a small town, at this point our mutual acquaintances sometimes made fun of him openly, congratulating him on his new-found "dad" and the like. Wimp that he was, Kevin stood there and took it all. I often had dinner at their house, after which, obviously, I always took his mother upstairs. I expected that his girlfriend wouldn't suffer the social disaster of having a relationship with him for much longer, either. Was that equivalent to ruinous humiliation and pain that my sister experienced at his hands? Absolutely not. But it was quite something in its own right. Kevin didn't seem to have any friends. At least none visited him when I was at his house. The only visitor he ever had was his girlfriend, and she only came a couple of times. I met her once in the house. I was fresh from Emma's bed, who was still in the shower. Taken a bit by surprise as I wasn't expecting a visitor in there, and also because I was only wearing a towel, I blurted out a pointless "hi." She looked at me and didn't respond. As it turned out later, she was the one person Kevin confided in, so she had a very poor opinion of me. Emma, meanwhile, didn't like her at all and thought that the "rocker girl" was far undeserving of her cute and intelligent son. Except your son is a rapist, I thought as I reached into her shorts. Some time later I heard about Kevin's girl again. Turns out the son was in a habit of sometimes asking his mother to spend a couple of hours outside in order to have the house for himself and his girl. Most of the times, Emma called up one of her girlfriends and went somewhere with her, but now she had me for that kind of thing. "Of course, I fully understand," said the slightly upset Emma as she sat in my car. Since she was understanding like that, I took her to a hotel, where we spent the evening fucking. I did ask her at one point, however, why the heck would they need a whole freaking house to shag. "Aw, don't ask me," she said, but then continued, "this Rachel girl's into some, you know, stuff." "Oh really? Like what?" "Disgusting. Whipping and stuff." " Oh really. o she whips him?" "Of course she doesn't. If she touches my boy with a finger, I'll whip her myself." "She's the one getting whipped, then?" "Change the subject!" she said, but added, "Yeah, she's apparently into that, yeah. Kevin keeps some stuff at home for her. Well, some sluts just need to be taught a good lesson sometimes." She smiled at me and asked for a kiss with her lips. So Kevin's found himself a whipping girl. No need to rape anymore, huh. Very convenient, you piece of shit. I pinned Emma to the bed and pushed her legs apart with my knee. "Oh, did I inspire you?" she said in a throaty voice. She did, but in a different way that she probably thought. So, Kevin's girlfriend was into weird sex. Now I had a chance to do something new, and I wasn't going to miss it. This Rachel of his wasn't ugly either. "You're so hard," whispered Emma under me. "Do you want me? Come fuck me, Daniel. Want to fuck my ass?" "Turn over," I said, and she eagerly did. I held her hips and slowly but steadily worked my way up her backdoor. We put a pillow under her tummy so she wouldn't get tired, and, with my whole length resting up her asshole, I reached forward and grabbed her hair. Emma groaned and forced her backside at me. "Tell me how you want it, you little slut." "Fuck me!" she moaned. At moments like this her voice almost completely changed. "Tell me how you want it." "I want it in my ass." "Louder, you little skank." "I said I want it in my fucking ass." I gave her a generous slap and fulfilled her request. *** In a couple of days I was able to encounter Rachel. When she was leaving, I followed her. "Rachel, please, for a second." She turned around, saw me and immediately crossed her hands on her chest. "Just a word," I said. "No. We have nothing to talk ab--" I grabbed her and pinned her to the wall. "Just a word, Rachel." "I'll scream!" "You don't need to," I said, moving a bit away from her, but still having her completely at my disposal. "You're not in danger yet. Just a word." She looked scared, could almost hear her heart beating. "What the fuck do you want?" "Here, take this. It's a cellphone number." I showed her a slip of paper and put it into her hand. She didn't take it, so I pushed the slip into her cleavage, making it lodge between her firm little tits. "I'm going to call the police!" "I said you don't need to. You aren't in danger. Unless you call that number, that is. Then you are." Puckering up her lips, Rachel stuck two fingers between her tits and, pulling out my paper, threw it on the ground. I followed its flight with my eyes. Then I looked at Rachel, and my look must have scared her shitless. She audibly whimpered. Slowly I rose my hand to her face and then gave her a harmless, but sharp slap on the cheek. "Pick it up." "Oh my god..." "Pick it up." Her eyes wide and breath shallow and audible, Rachel took a step towards the slip of paper, crouched, picked it up, returned to where she was and gave it to me. "No, you keep it." Still looking me in the eyes like a rabbit in front of a python, she glacially, as if in slow motion, stuck it awkwardly back in her cleavage. Her breasts rose, her lips were now moist. I could see her eyes look me over from head to toe. The woman in front of me was unmistakably horny. Chances are, if I wanted to, I could have probably fucked her right here on the street. The people he's sprung from, the people that he surrounds himself with, - how easy a rapist's world crumbles under littlest of pressures! I let Rachel go, but the next very day I had a call from an unknown number, and it was her. "It's Rachel," she said, and I heard her breath in the mic like a child. "It's Daniel. Glad to hear you." She was silent. "Are you free today at nine?" "Yes." "Good. I'll send you an address. Come there at nine. Tell me, do you have a favourite toy?" Breath, breath, breath, "Like what?" "Like a lash or a paddle, Rachel." "No," she said. "I see. So, how about today at nine? But do understand. By coming you give your permission." Breath, breath. "Permission to what?" "To whatever needs be. Goodbye, Rachel. See you at nine." "Goodbye." She hung up. Then I texted her the address of a hotel. I've actually looked up a thematic hotel - there was one in our town, - but I decided against it. Instead I picked a room in an ordinary shady establishment where no questions are asked - we've been there with Emma. Then I purchased some minor gear - I really didn't know much about the subculture Rachel may have been quite knowledgeable at, so trying to directly impress her would most have most likely failed either way. Instead, I bought a simple lash, a leash, a ball gag and a ring gag, a blindfold and two pairs of handcuffs. Then I called Emma and moved our date to next week. I was exercising some caution. I booked a room by phone and waited in my car near the building. At nine there was nobody. I could see the hotel clerk stand at the door and light up a smoke. Ten minutes past nine she still wasn't there. If she tricked me or chickened out, I would get to try all my new arsenal later on Emma, I thought to myself. At a quarter past nine Rachel slipped out of a taxi, wearing a black shirt with a stylized skull on her chest, some heavily torn jeans that sat very tight on her boyish butt, and her straight, pitch-black hair done in a high ponytail. She was carrying a small girly bag and nothing much else. I saw her look at her phone, then at the address plate. I got out of my car, carrying my bag of gear with me, and walked up to her. "Hello," I said, touching her waist. She nervously turned to me, saying nothing. We went inside, I paid up-front, took the key, and we went upstairs. The hotel was shabby, its mid-twentieth century look and feel rather depressing. Heavy wooden doors had new locks, though. Someone appeared from the room, looked at us and quickly returned. Near our room I opened the door and motioned for Rachel to enter. I followed, locking the door behind us. The room wasn't cramped, but it wasn't at all comfortable. There was a clean, but incredibly used bed almost in the center of it, there was a cabinet with a lamp on it, some handles broken, a chair and a door to what must have been the shower. The dim yellow lamp was the only real source of light, as the window was completely hidden by asphalt-coloured shutters - seemed like whoever fucked here last did not want to be seen. Rachel stood in the middle of the room, facing me as if expecting an attack of some sort, her arms crossed tight. I walked past her and placed the bag on the bed. "What's in it?" she said. Her voice was cold and reserved. "Some toys." She looked at me. "I also brought one." Then she puckered her lips like a grumpy old lady and opened her bag. Out of it appeared a gray teddy bear. "Here," she said as she gave it to me. "It's a toy. It's my favourite." She looked at me with a mix of disgust in her eyes and perhaps even anger. I took the bear and looked it over. It was no toy for bondage. Just a toy stuffed animal. I eyed the young woman in front of me - she has assumed her hands-crossed position again - and thought about what tis could've meant. She was making a statement. Was she trying to shame me? Was she trying to... Then I thought harder. Looks like she was more complex than Kevin's dear horny mother. Perhaps it wasn't a statement. I looked at her face, at her little tits squeezed under her arms, at her belly button peeking from under her top, at the soft vulnerable skin of her legs visible through the rips in her jeans. The bear in my arms was most likely a test, or a challenge, or both. I looked at her, then back at the bear, took it's fluffy head, and in one solid motion I ripped it apart. grayish stuffing rained down like intestines. I let the two parts of the mutilated toy fall down on the floor at her feet. Then I looked at Rachel. She was motionless, staring, her hands uncrossed and hung by her sides. She was standing there, looking down at her bear. Did I win? I opened the bag and pulled out a gag. With it in hand, I walked to Rachel. "Open up." She was still looking down at her toy. Slowly her lips started parting until her mouth was open. I put in the gag, buckled it's little belt on the back of her head, took Rachel by the hand and violently flung her onto the bed. "Kevin, you little shit," I told him when we next met and his mom wasn't around. "Are you aware that I've fucked Rachel a couple of days ago? She was pretty good. Oh, you better believe that I have. I took her to a hotel room and I gave it to her real good. No, listen, I've had the most fun since I fucked your mother in a public restroom. Rachel's a kinky little whore. I gagged her, I tore off her panties, I bruised her little ass. Then I whipped her with a really nice leather lash I've bought specially for her, you know? As a present. I held her down and whipped her bloody until she was ready..." "You're lying. You're full of fucking shit now, Daniel," was all he could say. "Shut it. You know how wet Rachel's cunt gets when you she's getting hurt? Well, maybe you do. You like hurting girls, don't you, Kevin, you little shit. Well, I pinned her down, threw her legs apart, twisted her arms behind her back and fucked her little cunt deeper than you ever could. I loved how it felt, you know how nice it is, don't you? It's even better than your mother's. And Rachel loved taking it, even when it hurt - hey, especially when it hurt, and I promise you that it fucking did. I fucked her and hurt her however I pleased, and she kept asking for more. When I came, I fed her the spunk from my condom, put on another and got right back to it. Halfway through I put it into her ass. I made her gape. Have you seen Rachel gape, you little fuckstain? Then we went to the shower, I took her gag out and she washed my cock and sucked it off. No, Kevin, listen, you know what the asked me to do? She asked me to hold her face in the toilet bowl and fuck her like that. And I did. Her hair was soaked in somebody's piss, the two of us went wild, you know? Rachel is wild. Every time I thought I was overdoing it, she would look at me with those puppy dog eyes an say, 'Hurt me.' So I held her down on the floor with my leg and pissed in her face. I chained her to a tube, fetched my leash and put it to use until she was bawling and pissing and coming. What? You didn't know she was so into that? She was constantly rising the stakes, rising stakes is what little Rachel does best. She is tough. Oh, she never let you do any of that? That's because you're a fucking weakling, kid. Have you seen that bear? Well--" "How the fuck do you know about the fucking bear?" I laughed. "Quit your denial. Well, as I was fucking her ass a second time, I let her hold the shreds of that bear. She was crying and clutching them to her breast. With a cock in her ass; that was her favourite. What? What, Kevin, what, you have something to say? What's that fit, are you going to cry now, too? Is that your bawling face?" "Well," Kevin said shaking all over and standing up. "Sounds... almost... exactly like I've fucked your Dana." Suddenly his face contorted into a hideous grimace. "I fucked her and hurt her, Daniel, and know what? She came, your shitty little sister fucking came on my cock as she begged me to stop, Daniel, she came, and I raped her again and again, and beat her ugly face bloody until she couldn't cry anymore. I should have fucking killed her, I fucking promise, I promise you, Daniel, that I fucking will: I will fucking kill her, I'll rape her and murder, like I already have, she's fucking dead, she'll shit herself as she dies, and I'll keep on raping. Your sister is dead this time, Daniel, you bitch! I will fuck her to death! Are you gonna enjoy that? I will tear her cunt open and fuck her to death and I'll come in her corpse!" Kevin was screaming. His eyes shone, his cock made a desperate tent of his pants. His hands didn't clutch into fists, but got crooked into claws. And, wrapped in a towel, Emma was standing in terror behind him. Since Kevin was never on trial, he could be put to it now. And his own mother testified about that diatribe - because she was so scared, and because I told her that he was a good boy and needed to repent, and that he would have been jailed regardless, and that she had a duty as mother to help him finish this horrible page of his life so that he could start all anew before he becomes a life-long etc. etc. In a word, I tricked her once again, this time to testify against her own son of all things, but wasn't there also some truth to my words? But revenge is not necessarily about fairness. Be as it may, she testified, and, although he never confessed, he was ultimately found guilty. Thus, he went to jail. I still dated Emma, which I didn't have to hide from my sister anymore, as Kevin's mom was now locally held a very brave mother for doing what she has done, bless her soul. Rachel, too, stayed an on-and-off fuckbuddy of mine for a while. But that was not the end of it. *** I paid Kevin a visit. That was the one crime I've committed. But Kevin never reported me, and nobody else bothered since nobody cares for rapists. The moment he saw me he promised again that the day he was out my sister was dead. Then the guard said to me: "You still doing it, then?" I said, "Sure am." "You have fifteen minutes," said the guard. He walked out of the room and locked the door from outside. I a bag on the table - the same bag that I used to carry the "toys" to my first night out, if you can call it that, with Rachel. I turned it over, and girly clothes spilled out. "What the fuck is this shit?" said Kevin. "I see the prison has taught you some interesting language," I said, stood up and shot a tazer at him. Kevin let out an interesting sound and toppled onto the floor. I caught him, tazed him again for good measure and then started taking off his garb. The plan really was very simple. I stripped him completely naked, holding him down a bit, although that wasn't really necessary - my tazer was good. His wimpy pale body was like a puddle of snow on the dark concrete floor. Then I fished out a pair of pink frilly panties and pulled then on him. A tight orange top and a short green skirt ended up looking great on this effeminate shit. His blond hair was short, but pretty and thick. Then I got him to put on a pair of stockings, and lo and behold, in front of me was a cute teenage girl. True enough, she was lying in fetal position and drooling, but I quickly helped "her" up and positioned "her" near the table. "You can't talk, little shit, but of course you can listen. When you get out of jail, you will not come back to the town. Because, if I see you, I'll see to it that you life becomes hell. Kevin, are we understood? But I will have to drive my point home, so here goes, cutie pie." I grabbed his hair and forced him over the table, then spread his legs wider apart with my knee and rolled up his skirt. Kevin was almost hairless, his hips wide, and his ass had an almost pretty round shape. Only the tiniest bulge in the frilly pink panties betrayed that Kevin was actually male. Said panties I did rip apart and, after I put on a condom-- "Kevin, you dumb little stain, is this for real? Are you really fucking hard?" He couldn't talk, but looked at me sideways. His expression was incomprehensible. I could see he was drooling. But his little cock was erect, sticking like a hairless upside-down soldier into the dirty top of the chamber's table. "Well, you're gonna love this then, Kevin," I said, spreading his asscheeks, and, without getting him ready or easing him in like I did with his mother and even Rachel, I shove it in raw right into his girly, pale round ass. And I fucked him all-out. His whole body shook, his girly ass quivered, the skirt on his waist was getting twisted and tangled. I fucked him so hard that it took me but a couple of minutes to finish. When I was done, I pulled out and gave him a spank. Kevin's panties and stockings were ripped, his ass gaping. He sobbed. Kevin's Hurt "Your sister.. I'll..." I said, "Get dressed, you little shit." With me looking on, he slid off the table and scrambled to change back to his clothes before the guard came back. His face was a sight to behold. Was my revenge complete? Maybe, but it wasn't all revenge, so it can probably never be fully complete. A bit of my personal life got entangled in this. Tomorrow I had a date with his mother at a bar where we met. On the edge of the table, right under where minutes ago was his panty-clad crotch, there was a puddle of semen.