An uncontrolled shiver rocked Sarah's body. It was followed by a wave of goose flesh that crept up her spine like fingers, alighting her senses. What time was it? 10:00? She had been here for a half-hour, maybe? It was hard to tell. She tried to move her knees a little; to find comfort where she knew there was none. She raised her left shoulder and leaned forward slightly, stretching the muscles of her back while trying to work some wiggle room into the rope around her wrists. The stretch gave her some momentary relief, but the rope around her wrists remained tight. It was a damn good job of knot-tying she confessed. Even better than what she could do, and she considered knot tying one of her specialties.
From her kneeling position, and with the limited scope of vision afforded her in her current circumstance, she looked around the room. It was cold, dark, and damp. She heard a slow, echoing, drip, drip, drip, as water escaped, fell, and puddled in some shadowed corner. The floor was hard and rough. Flagstones from Maine, she smiled knowingly. The cobbled rock walls of this makeshift dungeon, however, were fake. They were a fiber-reinforced composite laid directly onto the underlying concrete walls. She got a great deal for them at the Home Depot and thought the effect was perfect. Sawdust and dirt were ground into the floor. The basement windows were painted black and covered with dusty, rusted, wrought iron bars. It was all less than a month old but the basement looked like it had languished like this for a century.
Sarah was two weeks from her 18th birthday and every imaginable detail had been researched, planned and time-lined; and she did it all herself. Her High School DECA leader would be proud. To be honest, she planned, organized, and orchestrated the event, but there were other people involved of course; Contractors, plumbers, the real estate agent who found this wonderful townhouse in foreclosure, and of course Lisa, and her knots.
She grimaced and pulled again on the restraints. Damn good job of knot tying. She would need to reward Lisa's diligence with a little reciprocal knot tying of her own.
As she waited and fidgeted with the ropes, she thought of all the preparations that lead her to this event. Getting the plan approved to begin with was perhaps the most tricky part of the job. But after seeing the research and the PowerPoint presentation, including pay scales and ROI projections, even her troop leader had to give pause. It was a legitimate, legal, professional career, Sarah insisted; if only in one state.
Her troop leader said "The governing council will never approve it."
Sarah countered, "Then tell them what they want to hear; that we are turning a run-down tenement, in a forgotten corner of Georgetown, into a community outreach center."
With a little obfuscation and some creative paper work the plan was approved. She had accumulated over 40 hours of practical career exploration, research, and interviews as required. Most people saw her uniform and bought the community center story without hesitation. Many prominent individuals, politicians, and do-gooders generously contributed time and money to make it work. By all outward measurements the center was on its way to being a success. A day-care was set up, and an internet research room geared towards education and job hunting was created. Hell, we even received some free airtime on the 6:00 news when a local phone carrier installed a dedicated internet fiber-optic T-1 line to the Comunity Center for free.
Like a Trojan horse however, there was much more to her plan than outward appearances and those dark details took a little more work to organize. She had received some important on-the-job-training, which was overseen by professionals who were willing to mentor her and correct her mistakes. The building also needed some customizations to facilitate the duel purpose for which it was used. These and other details were addressed in turn and solutions fixed into place. When everything was complete it was just her, and a few key individuals that knew the true scope of her proposal in its unvarnished entirety. Those who didn't need to know the details were kept out of the loop. It was as simple and as complicated as that, and it all brought her to this moment, this culminating point of her preperations.
A point by the way, which was beginning to hurt.
Again Sarah leaned and twisted. Sitting on her heels, Her knees ground into the grimy floor. Her hands clenched and released behind her back. A rodeo knot connected her bound wrists to a three-inch steel ring that separated the cords and directed them to smaller steel hoops fastened to leather cuffs on her ankles. These cuffs were shackled to the floor. The entire set-up provided enough lateral and forward movement to be flexible but kept her pinned in place. The house above her was silent. Her knees began to throb a little.
She was naked except for an emerald green sash covered in badges and her beret. It was one of the requirements. The Girls Scouts were flexible with troop uniforms, especially with the older cadets, but the sash and the beret had to be prominently displayed when involved in a public project or event. She felt obligated to wear it, if only for symbolic purposes. It was a strong symbol for her, and she needed it here.
A door creaked. A shaft of light spilled into the darkness from above and then retreated to a sliver before disappearing. She heard heavy steps work their way down the wooden stairs. With a deep breath she centered herself and lowered her head, becoming the submissive little girl that the moment required of her. It was showtime. The John was unaware of her project, her planning, or training. He only knew that a young girl was "prepared" and waiting for him behind a uniquely marked basement entrance off the back ally of an anonymous row of townhouses. It was up to her to fill in the blanks.
On demand, she willed tears to well-up in her eyes.
From the bottom of the stairs she heard a click. The light from an insanely harsh incandescent bulb, that hung from the ceiling by an aged frayed electrical cord, slashed through the darkness. She leaned forward, pulling on her bindings and sobbed.
His laughter cut through the room. His filthy stained hands released the buckle of his belt and unceremoniously unzipped his pants.
"What have we here?" he laughed again. "A Girl Scout?"
His fist disappeared inside his gray stained underwear and he started stroking.
Sarah looked up at the stranger. "Please sir, I don't know what happened. I am not supposed to be here. I was selling my cookies, a van pulled up behind, and somebody grabbed me. I have no idea what I am doing here. Please sir, help me! Find my clothes and get me out of here?"
His hand pulled the meat from his groin. His long cock leaned a bit to the left but bounced freely, casting dark shadows on the stone floor before her. He walked up to her face and cupped her chin raising it. A smudge of black grease transferred from his thumb to her chin. As practiced, she let the tears fall down her cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled. The whites of her eyes rolled up to meet his, begging him with her innocence.
"Oh god. Oh no, no, no." Her breath caught the terror of the moment and twisted it with perfection.
"God damn, you are hot!" He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped her face with it.
A squeal of mock pain and shock slipped from her lips. She sobbed again, her chest heaving. "Please, please, please ..." her petition continued. "My mother will be worried ... " she began to cry as he ignored her, slowly rubbing the tip of his swelling head over her nose, cheek and lips.
"Fuck your mother!" the man pulled in close, grabbed the back of her head and pushed his cock into her mouth.
Bingo! Sarah lit up with excitement, she kept the tears flowing and conjured a face of surprised disbelief. Her pigtails bounced as the beret slid lopsided on her head. She slid her mouth from side to side in a mockery of resistance. Finally she centered his cock down her throat and swallowed. Her throat muscles wrapped around the head and stroked it. She swallowed again and again. Finally she gagged and he withdrew. He pulled his cock out and slapped her face with it again. Her own thick sticky spit left wet impressions on her cheek; bridled by tenuous cords that led to the swelling head of his rod.
"You had me going there for a minute." He growled. "Girl Scout my ass! You are nothing but a subby whore with a skill for cock sucking."
She opened her lips to deny it, and looked up with what she hoped was a face painted in cheap tear-running mascara. But before she could get a word out, he rammed his abusive rod into her mouth again. This time he rolled his hips and thrust into her wet oral orifice with a practiced measured rhythm. Undaunted, she mumbled something that was meant to sound like a plea, but it was a planned garble of meaningless words. She took him deep and savored the taste, licking him underneath, sucking around the head. Sarah felt him reach up to her cheek and caressed it with greasy fingers. Be careful, she told herself. Don't loose yourself in it. You are being raped, it's what he paid for.
He pulled out again and grasped the radius of the shaft and stroked it fast in her face. The purple head bounced from nose to cheek to lips as he worked the thickly veined neck with his practiced fingers.
She snatched the opportunity to sell her plight.
"Please sir, don't do this. You seem like a nice hard-working man, you probably have a family and daughters of your own." Sarah deliberately touch buttons to elicit a response, to level-up the game.
The man slapped her cold. "You fucking whore, you keep your pie hole shut." He slapped her again.
Sarah face twisted, her body pulled to one side. The muscles in her thighs ached as they pulled and fought to balance herself. She slumped over forward pulling against the ropes. Her face still burning from the impact of his open hand.
"Oh please sir ... Don't kill me ... I have a life." Her sobs punctuated the phrases. "How can I convince you? You are making a mistake. I sell cookies ... I go to church ... I am not supposed to be here." Her tears flowed now with a natural relentless current. "I was kidnapped and tied here. My name is Jenny. I am a person, please don't do this anymore ... Don't hurt me ... I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go ..." she finished this last sentence in a blubbering cascade of heart wrenching tears.
His eyes pulled open and his brow furrowed as he suddenly took a step back.
"Shit, shit .. holy shit." He said under his breath.
Sarah saw the reaction and put her game face on. She leaned forward, pulled against her restraints and rolled her shoulder as if to follow him. A begging gesture of empathic understanding. The calculated movement sent the sash sliding down her arm exposing the porcelain unblemished skin of her young rounded breasts. She pulled out a look of absolute innocence from her bag of tricks, sending a single tear rolling down her smudged cheek. She straightened her back as much as possible, thrusting her chest out. Against all odds the tear rolled from her chin and dropped onto the upturned erect nipple of her breast. The small pink aureole glistened in the sharp contrast of the room. She leveraged this last bit of happenstance and pitifully pleaded "Oh please sir ... Do the right thing."
He stared at her body. Her trim, fit, impossibly new, young body tied to the floor like an animal. "Fuck this." was all he said. A determination returned to his face as he stepped forward and mounted her face.
She screamed as he gripped her head like a melon and thrust into her mouth again and again. she leaned forward this time and tightened her lips around the shaft; pulling and licking it for all she was worth. She squealed and whimpered in between strokes as she sucked the semen from the base of his balls like a straw.
He grunted and looked down into her red terrified eyes. He reached down and grabbed one of her perfect breasts and twisted savagely at the nipple. She moaned uncontrollably vibrating his prick to its root.
"Oh fuck ... oh fuck." the man suddenly exclaimed as he gripped her close, knees bent, thrusting deep.
Her nose was buried into the black velvet mat of his public hair. She breathed in deep through her nose and licked laterally at the base of his cock; the inside of her cheeks wrapping around the thick fleshy muscle, her tonsils riding the ridge of it's head. She felt his thighs tighten and then the pumping action of his balls push the pearlescent stream past the curved welcome mat of her tongue. With a groan that echoed from the walls of the room he shot the hot thick load into her. It splashed with force in the back of Sarah's mouth filling it even as her tongue told her that another, larger load was quickly following.
Sarah feigned to pull back form the salty assault, but he gripped her head tight and slammed in deep, shooting his sticky mass into her throat. It exploded up and out her nose and slipped around the tight o-ring of her lips. The white liquid hung from his prick. The seal broken, he thrust in again and again his balls bouncing against her chin, delivering yet another thick deposit of cum into her over burdened cheeks.
"Oh fuck ... oh fuck, oh fuck." his mouth dropped open and hips bucked as his spasmodic thrusting slowed and then quieted. The cum that once fired with force slackened to a slow dribble.
She licked and sucked the shrinking mass tenderly as he pulled it from her mouth. A rope of cum followed his retreat, slipping out the corner of her mouth and dribbling unto her lap and sash.
"Holy shit!" He groaned as he stumbled back and looked at her slumped shackled body. Her lip was bleeding. Her hair hung in sweaty strands. Her beret lay in the dirt beside her. His semen slipped from her abused mouth into her lap, and onto the floor; a thick white pool of cum-infused drool gathered between her knees. She was breathing heavy, sobbing quietly, her shoulders sloped in resignation. "What have I done? He repeated."
He quickly pulled his pants up and zipped the fly. His face tried to make sense of the scene, the girl, and what he had done to her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He said as he backed his way to the base of the stairs. "Oh my god, I'm a rapist" he muttered under his breath. His head turned quickly to the left and right. He seemed to be listening, stretching to hear the imagined far-off wails of police sirens. "I gotta get out of here. Fuck, fuck, fuck ... I'm screwed." He looked once more time at Sarah. This poor little girl with his DNA dripping down from her nose and over the curved pink recesess of her lips.
Sarah raised her slumped head, met his look, and with a wink turned her well practiced face of fear into a smile.
He froze for a moment. Confused, he cocked his head and opened his mouth. Finally, he relaxed and smiled back. "Shit!" He pointed at the girl shackled to the floor. "Holy fuck!" He brought his hand up to his forehead and shook his head again.
She laughed, coughed a bit, and spat on the ground. She smiled once again at him as she watched him step forward, think better of it, and then with a relieved chuckle, leap up the stairs and out into the night.
"Thank you, and cum again." Sarah replied as the door closed.
"Any corner whore can let a john fuck their body." She remembered from an interview she had taken while preparing for this role, "But it takes a true professional to fuck him back." Sarah was positive that this man would be rubbing his cock for weeks, reliving this exchange in all of its gory detail. I was bound, abased, and abused, but he was, without argument, thoroughly and irrevocably fucked.
She pulled on her restraints and tilted her head. "Did you get that Lisa?"
A small electronic voice sounded in the canal of her left ear. "You were wonderful Sarah! Absolutely amazing. And Yes! We got it all. It is currently streaming through our Belarus server farm, clocking in at just over 1,500 hits within the past 30 minutes. The numbers will grow as the feed goes viral. Not bad for our first venture. The ad revenue from this stream alone should pay for the new addition.
Sarah smiled. It was done. A stranger's cum pooled in her stomach. His cock had white washed her throat, and the proof of her project dribbled past her chin and down her body. It was only a step; a first step, but it had worked out according to plan. There were a few potential problems that needed to be ironed out but she felt up to the task.
"Lisa ... could you come untie me please? I am in desperate need of a shower."
"Alone?" Lisa questioned. There was a tentative tone of hope in her voice.
"Depends on how fast you get down here." Sarah pulled lightly at the ropes and imagined a few new tricks that might surprise her multi-talented webmistress, troop leader, and business partner. Lisa was eleven years her senior in age, but she squealed like a ten year old when correctly and properly pinched.
As she waited, Sarah looked down at her cum soiled sash and decided to pin her Girl Scout Gold Award next to the stain that marked her new beginning.
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nobeuddy
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