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Memoirs of a Rapist


Memoirs of a Rapist p. I (Mf, nc, rape, interr) (c) Celene

I had been watching St. Mary's for almost two weeks. It was a small
Catholic school for upper-class girls. It was more like a finishing school
than anything else - most of them expected to get married straight out of
high school. It was not a large school, so it didn't take me long to
become familiar with the faces, if not the names, of the hundred or so
girls in the upper classes. I took snapshots of the girls from my apartment
window as they sat around and ate lunch, or walked to and from school.
Soon I had a little file. And I knew exactly which little girl I wanted to
rape. She was shorter than most, and had a slim waist and decent legs. But
that was all periphery. Her blue and green plaid skirt hid her thighs and
ass from me, but the crisp cotton shirt hid none of her . . . other
assets. I tell you, I've never seen such huge tits on a schoolgirl before.
I was guessing that she was fifteen, but she had the tits of a well-endowed
strip tease. A generous DD, maybe even bigger. That fact alone would have
been enough to make me rape her. breasts like those don't come along very
often. But combined with the rest of her . . . I had to have her. She
was a brunette, and pretty, in a conservative kind of way. But beneath
those thick glasses and braids was a girl who could have stopped traffic,
if she'd made herself up a little. I saw lips that belonged around my
cock, and a long stem of a neck that would be ideal for deepthroating.
Even better, she had that unconscious little wiggle to her hips that all
virgins have. The ideal combination.

The afternoon of my little virgin's first fuck was sunny and warm. I
packed my rape kit into a backpack. I could, of course, have brought her
back to my room, but I wanted to enforce the feeling that this was a
jungle, and I was simply an animal having my way with her. I smiled as I
added several lengths of cord to the backpack, and my knife, and a ball
gag. I wandered on down to the park where the girl spent most of her
afternoons reading. I knew from watching her that she didn't have many
friends, so she'd probably be alone. I chose a secluded spot among the
trees, with a few scattered bushes and a nice flat boulder. Nice. A
little risky, but hardly anyone was here this time of day anyway. I would
take the risk for a girl like that. I stowed the pack behind the rock, and
went to find the girl. She was dressed in her school uniform, underneath a
nearby maple, her long legs stretched out becomingly. She was toying idly
with the ribbon on her braid, a faint smile playing about her lips. I took
a lot of pleasure in knowing that soon that self-satisfied smirk would be
replaced with the proper expression for a white slut like that. I wanted
to see that pretty face contorted with fear and pain and disgust and shame
. . . I could feel myself getting hard, and I hadn't even touched her yet.
The girl yawned, stretched, and stood up. Shit. If she walked away . . .
But luck was on my side. The girl picked up her pack and walked straight
towards my hiding place in the bushes. Fate had simply scooped this bitch
up and dropped her into my outstretched arms. Sixty seconds later, I had
one hand locked around the girl's mouth and another holding her arms. She
was screaming as best she could, and fighting, but I worked out, and I had
almost a foot of height on her anyway. I pinned her face down in the
grass, and forced her jaws open to accept the ball gag, buckling it quickly
behind her head. She gnawed at it and made furious noises through the gag,
and tossed her head back and forth. Surely she guessed what was going to
happen to her. "What's that?" I asked, cupping a hand beside my ear. "You
want me to stick my big black dick up your slutty white cunt?" She
screamed, and I had to hold on extra tight to keep her still. Time for
phase two. "Oh," I said, securing her wrists together behind her back with
a length of clothesline, "you don't want it up your cunt. You want it up
your ass, too." I shook my head in mock dismay. "Girls these days." I
didn't have much time, but I grabbed her purse from where it had fallen
next to her. A school ID card showed that her name was Mary Catherine
Stanfield, and she was fifteen - a sophomore in high school. She had
probably been named after the holy Virgin, I decided. Well, I fully
intended for her to conceive, but it would certainly not be immaculate. I
set aside her wallet, and went to the real business. She was still making
muffled protests through my gag - that had to stop. I backhanded her tit.
"Shut up." When she kept writhing, I punched her stomach. She made a funny
little 'uph' and stopping trying to make noise. I didn't bother unbuttoning
that sweet little white blouse of hers - I didn't have that much time, and
it was rather satisfying to grab each side and rip it open. Buttons popped
off in all directions, but I wasn't looking at the buttons. I was looking
at a plain cotton bra containing the finest set of white tits I've ever
seen in my life. I felt a stab of regret that I didn't have time to play
with those breasts. So instead I took out my knife and sliced open her
bra, right down the middle. Mary made a high shrieking sound when she felt
the cold metal touch her skin, and so I laid the knife gently on her
breast, just below her nipple. "Make any more noise, and the nipple comes
off," I told her. I guess she knew I was serious, because she shut up real
fast. I kneaded her breast with one hand, loving the smoothness, the
velvet of the nipple, the tiny blue veins visible through the milk-white
skin. The dark chocolate of my skin seemed even darker on her white tit;
we were opposites through and through. I squeezed hard, and she whimpered.
"Soon every time someone does this, a little stream of milk is going to
come spurting out," I told her matter of factly, and shoved her skirt up
around her waist. She was wiggling and whining again, but I didn't pay any
attention. It wasn't really important. As I expected, she wore plain white
briefs. Cute, in that virginal way. I ran one finger down the crotch
panel, grinding it briefly against her core, and then slit her panties with
my knife, dropping the tattered ruins on the grass beside us. I took my
pinky finger, and probed around her cunt until I found her opening. As I
had hoped, the hymen was still intact. Excellent. I slung her onto the
edge of the rock, so her hips were raised, but at the edge, and her legs
dangled off the end. I leaned my face close to hers. "I'm only going to
say this once, fuckcunt," I rasped, and her eyes were wide and frightened.
"I'm going to rape your cunt now. That's going to happen whether you like
it or not. But you have a choice about whether you get knocked up. If you
do everything I say, I'll pull out and spill my sperm on those huge
udders." The girl shuddered, probably at my crude language. Or maybe
because I was fingering her clit. It didn't matter anyway. "If not . . .
well, I'm always happy to impregnate another white slut." I let my hand
rest intimately on her lower stomach, where her womb would sprout a child.
"If you resist at all, I'll make sure you get pregnant. You want that?" I
grinned inside, even as she shook her head madly. I was, of course,
planning on leaving her with a little something anyway, of course, but this
would keep her docile while I worked. "I'm going to take your gag off.
Try to scream, and you lose a nipple, then I impregnate you. Fun, huh?"
She licked her lips as I took off the gag. "Please, mister -" I struck her
across the face, hard. "Shut up. I just want to see that face when I fuck
you. Oh, yeah." I reached down and took out my camera. "Smile pretty,
fuckslut." She turned her face away, and I sighed. "Does this mean you
want a nice big black baby?" She looked back at the camera. "Smile,
dammit!" Her lips twisted. It wasn't a smile, but it probably was the best
she could do. I took a picture that included her face and exposed tits.
Then more of her tits - me holding them, slapping them, her face.
Gradually I moved down to her cunt. "Spread your legs as far as you can."
"Please," she whispered, but slowly obeyed. I snapped the shutter
furiously - white thighs, tight little cunt, the hint of dark pink between
her cunt lips. I unzipped my pants, and showed a few comparison shots.
The size of my cock next to that little twat. She moaned. I lined up.
"No, please-" she said, and I shoved the full length of my cock into her
cunt. It was a good thing I had a hand over her mouth, because she screamed
involuntarily, and loud. Her legs clamped shut around my thighs, and her
back arched, shoving her breasts towards the treetops. I'm still surprised
no one heard her. It must have been agony for her, but I had to struggle
not to come right then and there. Her body was rigid with pain, and why
not? She had the narrowest fuck channel I've ever used. Hell, I've fucked
thirteen-year-olds who were twice her size. Tears were streaming down her
face as I started to move. I started slow, forcing her to feel every single
inch of cock as it moved through her. At the same time, I told her exactly
what I thought white girls were good for - pleasuring me and my cock. I
told her that she was a slut, a whore, a cunt, and to my faint surprise,
her hips twitched. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't orgasming or anything,
but maybe she was the slightest bit aroused by the humiliation. I grinned,
and sped up. She was crying for real now, but it didn't last that long in
reality. She was too tight, and I had gone too long without a cunt under
me. The girl must have interpreted my longer, faster thrusts correctly.
Hell, maybe she could feel my shaft thickening in preparation for cumming.
I just know that her eyes went very wide, and she gasped something. When I
understood, I laughed. "Pull . . . out," she whimpered. "Pull out,
please, I don't want - don't make me -" "Pregnant?" I said, and the very
thought brought a rush of pleasure. I rammed my full length into her once
again, sticking my cock straight into her womb, and released an enormous load of sperm. Only when I had unloaded completely did I pull out of her.
She was shaking and crying. "You didn't cooperate," I told her, wiping my
messy cock on her shirt. Her blood and my cum stained the thin cloth
instantly. I shoved the gag back into her mouth, and picked up the camera,
taking a few 'after-shots' of her swollen cunt and tearful face. "I'm
taking your wallet, so I know where you live. You can go to the police if
you want to, but if you do, I know where to send copies of all these
pictures. Besides posting them outside the school, of course." I laughed,
and she sobbed. All was right with the world. I removed a five from her
wallet, and rolled it up carefully. "This," I told her, shoving it into
her cunt, "is for the service. Consider it part of child support, if you
want." Chuckling softly, I picked up, leaving her almost completely naked,
reeking of sex, with her wrists still tied behind her.

What is a rape story, without follow-up? At the time, I didn't think
that I'd ever see Mary Catherine again, so I asked a doctor friend of mine
to keep an eye out for her files (well, hers, and every other girl I raped
that fall). He was an obstetrician, and luck of luck, guess who showed up
at his clinic with her parents one day? You got it, my very own little
cunt. All didn't go as I had planned, though. Mary's hips were just to
narrow to carry a black baby boy fully to term, and she miscarried. I
heard she spent hours in agony before they operated to remove the child.
The boy died, and although she lived, it became common knowledge that the
boy had been black. Warrenville is not the most tolerant community; Mary's
parents, who had been most supportive of her illegitimate pregnancy,
disowned her, and at the tender age of fifteen and a half, she had to work
full time to support herself. Wait, are those tears I hear you crying?
Well, don't feel too bad for her. I'm taking a trip down that way next
week, and I think I might look her up. After all, there were a lot of
things I never did to her body that I still dream about, and she's young enough to bear me more sons. And the role of sex slave is going to look
pretty attractive to someone working fifty hours a week at McDonalds just
to keep the bill collector away. Of course, all that's another story.


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