Taking Miss Brown Ch. 03

I'm spinning downward from the high of my glorious, beautiful first orgasm to reality.

Am I horny as hell? Yes. Is my pussy swollen and wet and throbbing for attention? You bet. But I feel his cum burning in my cleavage, dripping to my belly, and my mind is jerked firmly into the present as soon as he starts to rub his cock against my pussy lips.

No. Please. Stop. Don't. Rape. Me.

These are the words that swim through my head in slow motion as he grinds his crotch against me. His monster cock, like a distended coke can, is growing quickly to full size.

"Mmm, Miss Brown. You're about to get busted. You're about to be mine forever."

Please. Don't. No. Stop.

I'm. Going. To. Die.

Ripping, tearing, a moment of pain. I'm going to die. Nothing in my life has ever hurt this much. I want to scream. But the pain is a physical entity, it has a presence, a weight, and it crushes my lungs, my throat, my soul.

It hurts so much I'm dizzy, and everything fades. . .

I wake, bleeding from my pussy, so much blood, so much pain I wish I could pass out again. And he's still inside me. My pussy is bucking, squeezing, trying to get rid of the invader, trying to push it away. I can't move. Nothing can move. I'm crushed by the pain.

He has me on my back, and he's on top of me, holding my wrists down to the floor, palms up like a crucifix. He's looking down into my eyes.

"Welcome back, Miss Brown. Don't worry, I didn't make a single stroke while you were passed out. I want you to feel every fucking stroke. I want you to feel my dick all up in you. I want to ride your little hips all night. You're mine. Your cherry is mine. I tore your little cunt, now you're gonna have scars in there from me. So you'll never forget."

I'm still bleeding. I'm still in so much pain. But none of it compares to the pain of knowing that I'm his. My virginal blood, and the blood from the scars he gave me, is running onto his cock, down my leg. The reality of rape is so, so very real to me.

He starts to ride me, slowly building up speed. I can feel his hipbone grinding into mine.

It. Hurts. So. Much.

I close my eyes. I can't look at him. I try to think of anything else but this. Chemical formulas. Geometric proofs. The scientific names of random animals. Anything. Anything but the fact that I'm being raped.

But I can feel him slamming into me, harder and harder with each stroke. It's so huge inside me, and even stretched to the point of tearing, my pussy isn't nearly large enough to accommodate it. I've never hurt this much before.

He's riding me hard, pushing himself in and out of me with immense force, nearly pulling all the way out then slamming back in, tearing me again and again with every stroke.

But the words tear me so much worse. The boys, all of them, are cheering Elijah on. Some are whistling at me. Some are making comments about what a slut, what a whore I am. How he should pound me harder, fuck me deeper, ride me faster.

And Elijah... well his words hurt the most.

"Mmm, Miss Brown. I've never rode a little cunt this tight. I've never had my dick in such a sexy little cunt. You were made for this. You were made to be fucked. You're so sexy, all bloody and bruised. The pain on your face is so hot. You were made to be a slut. You're gonna look even sexier with my baby in you."

I feel it tensing inside of me, flexing, and another thought occurs to me.

"Condom. Please." My words are barely a breath.

"No fucking way, little slut. You're going to have a little black baby in you. I'm gonna put my baby in you. And if you don't get knocked up with my baby, there's twenty other guys here fixin to fuck you, and every one of them is gonna dump cum in your belly. You're gonna get pregnant by someone."

No, no. No. I can't. I can't have a baby. I don't want my student's baby in me.

It's hot, burning hot, and it scalds my insides when he shoots it in me. It's flames, acid, gunfire inside me, snaking from my pussy to my belly, marking me inside. I wiggle underneath him, struggling against him, but my tiny body's resistance is totally futile against his strong muscles.

He pulls out, drags me to my feet, sits me on the lab table. Blood and cum drip down my legs.

"Open season, boys."

(to be continued. . .)