the rape party

“Fuck! I could scream!” I thought. The party was such a mega-bore, or at least that was my opinion until this cute pixie girl came walking towards me and sat crossdlegged on the floor. Now, that kind of psuedo-hippie posturing usually has me chucking up! But, this girl was different...

She spoke.

"Is it just me, or does this party think it’s too cool for its own good?" When she'd done, her eyes searched mine for a reply. I was surprised, I’d noticed she’d barely spoken to anyone in tjhe crowded room and yet, she spoke to me. I felt flattered.

She had this power... so I decided to let fly:

“Yeah, you’re right, it does," I said.

"This world can be so blisteringly fascinating and then there’s this... acres of vain metro-sexual guys in black drainpipe jeans and winkle-picker boots and all these fuckin’ vacuous EMO girls in black mini-skirts wearing far too much make-up!

The conformity of it... it’s all shit!” I said.

“Wow!” she said. Her eyebrows were raised: “You’re angry, aren’t you? I like your passion.”

I laughed. “Sometimes I am,” I told her.

“You must be frustrated about something,” she said with a knowing smile.

She had this power, you see...

I played along. “Could be,” I said. “Why, are you a nurse or something, come to cure me?”

Her eyes narrowed. "Hah! Spoken like a true man...now, are you capable of speaking like a gent, or am I wasting my time, Mister?"

I looked down. She’d caught me. I felt a little nervous. I’m always the dominant one in anything I do, yet with her I felt small, her presence was mind-blowing and I couldn’t help but wonder how she would feel underneath me, pressed against a wall by my superior strength. She was small, skinny, elfin, very alluring. There was an uneasy moment before I looked at her again and asked:

"What do you think a gent should say on this occasion?"

She smiled. I loved the sparkle in her eyes. She was just playing with me, how did she dare to? She came crawling over to me and she didn't care that everyone in the room could be watching... she didn't give a shit about getting her clothes dirty... I realised then that this was the source of her power; she was edgy and very confident with it.

Then she did something I wasn’t expecting: she kissed me! She straddled the chair I was sitting in. I could feel her vulva against my dick, pressing down on it. I truly wished that we were both naked. I imagined her bouncing up and down on my cock, squelching her juice all down my bouncing balls! I got an instant erection thinking that. She felt it and whispered, between kisses: “So that’s what all your anger’s about, huh?” Her kissing was perfect, just as I imagined it would be: A mix of pixie and vampire, not the kind of mouth ever to be dominated by men. I could see she was an expert tease and that’s what exited me even more... to try and control a girl like her was going to be my quest.

Yes, it was, I resolved.

I couldn’t think clearly. Our tongues weaved in and out of each other’s mouths. I deepened the kiss, pressing my tongue on her teeth, sucking her tongue by its root. Now it was my turn to not care who saw us. She gasped as the hard kisses continued and I felt her pulling away. I knew her game, give then withhold, and I wasn’t about to let her get away with that.

Would you?

It was my turn now to control the situation. I grabbed her tight by the throat as our lips closed tight. Her lacy fairy wings were annoying the fuck outta me, but I didn't want to rip them off and offend her. They were part of her charm after all. And, dressing as a pixie - far from looking ridiculous - actually looked quite natural on her: wings and all. I lifted the hem of her ballerina's tutu, pushed aside her flimsy cotton knickers and started to finger her cunt. My other hand was still gripping her throat and I knew by her frantic breathing through her nose that I was starting to choke her, but I didn't give a fuck!

I felt tears bounce off my knuckles, but then the crafty bitch surprised me again, because she reached for the zipper on my jeans to free my dick. I let her. She put her small hand inside and started to massage my erection and that was what set me on edge. I pushed her back and wrenched my jeans down over my thighs, my hard-on bouncing in her face. Throwing her down on the floor, behind a big sofa, I knelt over her face and made her suck me. I just had to feel those swollen lips of hers over my cock, those lips that seemed to scream for me to bang her and make her mine, even if she screamed no, to ravish her so hard she would end up in tears...of ecsatsy!

Shit, this was getting quite dark!

Even as I saw the tears on her face, I knew she was enjoying it. Why? How could this fairy princess, the dominatrix of the group, a hardcore lesbian, be enjoying this so much? All I could see was her responsive hands and mouth coaxing from me what she knew was inevitable.

In under a minute she got it.

‘Dirty little whore!’ I said as I felt the ultimate spasm approach, racing up my thighs and balls as I face-fucked ‘pixie’ with renewed violence. As I came deep in her mouth, I pressed against the back of her head so hard that she had no choice but to swallow my entire load. I didn't want to get semen all over her pixie clothes... she would never forgive me!

She looked up at me, defiantly, challenging me to go further with all this... as if she were only half-fed, her lusts only partly sated. I could see she wanted more. It was as if something in her had energised me and my prick easily came back to life in her mouth and hardly lost any of its firmness. Her deep brown, almost black eyes, the kind you could actually mistake for darkest night... stared up at me as I pulled out of her mouth. She pulled me down and we kissed again, just as hard as before, the semen flavour on her mouth another ingredient in the aphrodisiac mix that was coursing through us both.

She whispered: "Give me more, but just remember that I'm only yours for a short while, so oblige me, Mister!"

“You’ll get more, you little slut!” I whispered.

“Mm, my resistance will only make you hornier, won’t it?” she asked.

I said it would. She laughed at my audaciousness and said she would match it, “...Hook, line and sinker!” She spoke strangely accented English, mixing odd words and phrases, which was part of her charm. She was like crack, one hit and I’d become an addict!

I had to have her and if she wanted more, I was happy to give it to her. “You really want this?” I asked her. She nodded and said, “Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got!” I dragged her out into the garden and threw her against a nearby wall. The force was so great she almost rebounded. I grabbed her by her hair and held her down, in a kneeling position. My other hand was busy moving aside her skirt and ripping her panties down to her knees. I then entered her cunt from behind with all the force I could manage. The pixie gasped as I filled her completely. Her pussy depth was amazing! Few girls can actually handle my size easily and yet she did, and I could tell by her little sighs and moans that she was getting off on the hard sex, like the nasty whore she really was. I started to bite her neck and lick her ears as I pumped inside her again and again, all the time increasing the violence of my thrusts.

“Oh you bastard!” she groaned, “Rape me, rape me!”

She cried as she orgasmed, but I was not sated and I didn’t slow down at all as she thrashed about under me, gripping the hanging vines dangling from the brick wall above her. I felt her shuddering again, a multiple orgasm had overtaken her... “Oh, you bastard! Rape me!” she groaned, again and again. This time I joined her in a blissful climax and pulled her hair, forcing her cute face sideways to me, kissing her in a welter of saliva.

When I finally slipped out of her cunt, slewing pearly spunk on the grass below us, she just threw herself in the dirt and laughed.

"We should do this again sometime, Mister."

As I’d perceived, she actually liked being taken hard. But, I decided to continue playing the game she’d devised.

"I thought you were lesbian?" I said.

She rolled over, her legs akimbo and looked up at me. Her eyes were sparkling.

"Never label me, Mister! I’m not a dike. I go with anyone I fancy, OK!" she said.

"Sure," I said. "That's a good thing."

I zipped up my jeans and went back to the party, back to the posers and the psueds, but now the place had just gotten a whole lot better! Later, I saw pixie with her girlfriend, the one she’d turned up with. They were obviously an item and pixie was no longer the cute little slut she had been with me. She was once again the icy Alison Goldfrapp-type ingénue who liked to treat her girls like princesses and act out a sadistic version of Prince Charming with them, a common theme among lesbians, I’m told.

There was obviously a massive BDSM component to the whole charade with pixie, but apparently ‘the rape’ was going to be our dark little secret... or maybe not? Who the hell could tell with a complex girl like her?

I couldn’t!

I half-expected a graphic description of our copulation to appear on FaceBook anytime soon...

© 2009 Adriana Lovera, Eira Hviti.