Subject: ARCHIVE: M.K.Smith  "A Lovely Girl"

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                        A LOVELY GIRL
                    by Michael K. Smith

   There was a hurriedly-called town meeting at the junior high
gym, to discuss what might be done about the maniac who was
terrorizing the area, so I knew there was no one else at home. 
Very stupid or very trusting people.  Also no near neighbors, so I
went in through her bedroom window. The girl had stayed home from
school that day with the flu and hadn't gone to the meeting with
her family.  Now she was sleeping on her back, only partly covered
by a sheet, wearing a boy's old sport shirt.

   A sweet face with wide, full lips.  Most important, a long
swanlike neck.  A really lovely girl; she'd be a beauty if she grew
up.  I clamped a hand hard over her mouth.  She woke instantly and
began struggling in desperation.  Then I showed her the .38, first
a side-view so she'd know what it was, and then a view directly
into the end of the barrel, an inch from her eye.

   She wasn't stupid or naive; she knew already what I wanted and
began to tremble.  I made a 'silence' gesture with my trigger
finger and smiled. She swallowed and nodded once, her blue eyes
wide and terrified, and I took my hand away from her mouth.

   I wrapped my fist around her pale blonde ponytail and yanked her
to a sitting position.  I could tell it hurt and I regretted that,
but it kept her hands busy trying to hold onto her hair as she
moved.  I ripped the top sheet off the bed with my other hand. 
Then I motioned to her shirt.  Her hands shook as she unbuttoned it
and shrugged it off.

   She was thirteen years old, just beginning to develop real
breasts, but her nipples stood erect because of her fear.  I've
seen that before.  She was a swimmer and her figure was trim and
slender with no baby fat.  A nice body for thirteen.  I gripped her
ponytail and yanked her flat on her back again; her shallow breasts
jiggled and she cried out in pain.  I pointed to her white cotton
panties.  She tried to shake her head but couldn't.

   "Please . . . ," she whispered, and the tears trickled down the
sides of her face.  I brought the muzzle of the revolver to bear
again and raised an eyebrow.

   She shut her eyes tightly and pushed her panties down as far as
she could reach, and I pulled them slowly off her.  She had long
legs, slender and tanned like the rest of her, with long athletic
muscles.  Slender ankles and small feet, too.  I was right; she
really was a very pretty girl.

   She was also a natural blonde.  Her pubic hair was light and
fine and the crevice below it was completely bare.  I wondered if
she was still a virgin.  One could never tell these days, even with
a girl her age.  I spread her legs and motioned for her to bend and
raise her knees so her genitals were open and exposed.  I moved my
hand from her ponytail to her throat and while she was dealing with
that, I shoved the four-inch barrel of my gun into her.

   She jerked in terror and tried to cry out, but my hand on her
windpipe allowed only a small, scratchy sound to escape.  I
withdrew the muzzle and noted the dark blood on the end.  A small
amount of blood was also trickling from between her legs.

   I pulled her back up to a sitting position and then slapped her
hard across the face five or six times, knocking her back on the
bed in a half-conscious daze.  I took the opportunity to set the
revolver on the floor and flip her over on her stomach.  The
technique has proved useful.

   I pulled the already looped and knotted hemp cord from the
pocket of my sweatsuit and quickly tied her wrists firmly to the
posts at the foot of her bed.  Her arms were stretched almost out
of their sockets.  Then I tied her ankles to the corners of the
headboard, pulling the slip-knots tight. I satisfied myself that
she couldn't move by plucking the cords like guitar strings.  She
was drawn but she hadn't been quartered yet.

   I picked up the panties she had reluctantly removed, reached
under her firm little bottom, and stuffed them into her to staunch
the bleeding.  There was no footboard to get in the way and she
hung off the end of her bed facing the floor, her ponytail dangling
down the side of her neck.  She emerged from her daze and
discovered her immobility.  She tugged unsuccessfully at the cord
and began to whimper again, but I was holding the gun.

   I knelt on the floor and lifted her head by her hair so she
could see my face.  Then I spoke for the first time since entering
her room.   "Darling, what we're going to do is have sex.  You
already know that, don't you?"  She was unable to speak and I felt
her feeble attempt to nod. "But we're not going to do it the way
you probably think.  You're bleeding, remember?  No, we'll do it
another way."

   I let her head flop back as I stood and heard her teeth crack
against the top of the wooden footboard.  I dug into my other
pocket and then pulled off my sweatsuit and moved around to the
side of the bed.  I set the revolver on the sheet, snug against her
hip.  Then I knelt between her trembling legs, uncapped the nearly
empty tube of K-Y I had brought with me, and covered my middle
finger with it.  When I pushed the finger into her, her buttocks
jerked and tightened, and she gasped with shock.

   "Loosen up and this will be easier."  I made a hook of my finger
and lifted.  She stifled a cry and made an apparent effort to
relax.

   "That's better, now."  I smeared more of the jelly on the head
of my cock, which was now fully erect, and leaned forward, placing
the tip against the brown ridges of her sphincter.  I have found
it's easiest to do this part quickly, so I took a breath and shoved
hard.  She cried out when the head popped into her and began
sobbing when I thrust forward.

   "No, please," she begged tearfully.  "Please, don't!  It hurts!"

A nice touch, I had to admit.

   Two more hard thrusts, and she was impaled to the hilt.  A young
girl's hole is always a snug fit, but this one's slender build
seemed to include a particularly tight, particularly long rectal
passage.  Then, as I put my weight across her smooth, warm body, I
felt a sudden wetness around my balls.  She had lost control and
peed in her bed.  The aroma of a young girl's urine is heady and
acrid -- probably something to do with puberty. I enjoyed the added
effect.

   I penetrated her again and again, increasing the tempo as her
natural moisture improved the lubrication.  She was sobbing loudly
in syncopation with my movements and I reached under and cupped her
little breasts in my hands, squeezing them hard and pinching her
nipples.  She wailed even louder.

   "Keep making so much noise, and I might not ever stop."

   She managed to smother her sobs and I let go of her breasts,
raising myself up on my elbows in preparation for the completion of
this phase. After a couple of minutes of increasingly forceful
jabs, I climaxed, ejaculating into her intestines.

   I rested atop her a moment to regain my breath, then pulled out
of her ass.  There were small flecks of brown around the head, as
I knew there would be.  As I backed up on my knees, I was careful
to drag my balls through the aromatic puddle she had made.

   I climbed off the bed and stretched my arms to get the kinks
out, then checked the cords around her slender ankles.  Her toes
were turning blue. I licked the sole of her right foot and it
twitched and her toes tried to curl, so she still had some feeling.

   I went back to the foot of the bed, knelt, and lifted her
ponytail.  Her eyes were blue and red now from crying; not very
attractive.  One front tooth had broken on the footboard and a gash
where she had bitten her lip dribbled blood down her chin.  She
should be more careful about her appearance.  I gave her head a
shake to get her attention.

   "Now, what I'm going to do is put my cock in your mouth, and
you're going to lick it and suck on it.  Do you understand what I'm
talking about?"

   She hesitated and then whispered "Yeth."

   I knelt again before her face, naked this time.  Her mouth was
at just the right height.  I reached under her body and pinched her
nipple again, hard.  She winced but made no sound; she was
learning.

   My cock was erect again and trembling.  I pulled the rubber band
off her hair so it scattered over her shoulders.  I put down the
.38 and gathered a fistful of hair at each temple, then raised her
head and brushed her beautiful lips with the tip of my cock.

   "Lick it, darling.  And keep your eyes open."  Her little red
tongue came out and tentatively touched the underside of the head. 
She could smell and probably taste her own body on it.

   "Show some enthusiasm, darling, or I'll hurt you.  Really hurt
you." Her eyes showed comprehension.  She knew I meant it.   She
began swabbing her tongue around the tip, licking it like a Tootsie
Pop.  I moved closer and raised the angle so she could lick up and
down the length of it.  I lifted it still higher and she began
licking my balls without prompting.  For a beginner, she was pretty
good.  Or her fear overrode her natural nervousness.  I've seen
that before, too.

   "You've never done this with a boy, have you?  What's the
farthest you've gone with a boy?  Answer me, and tell the truth." 
She was weeping again.

   "No, I haven't," she whimpered.  "I let a boy feel my tits once,
out in the field."  A naughty girl, but I always preferred being
the first.  A young girl needs an experienced, older man her first
time.  But enough foreplay.  I repositioned myself.

   "Now we're going inside.  Suck on the head and run your tongue
around it."  She took it in like a trooper and sucked like she knew
her life depended on it.  Her mouth was drying up, though.  I
withdrew myself and bent her head back against the nape of her
slender neck.

   "Open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue, darling.  Stop
crying now."  She followed instructions and I spat a large wad of
saliva into her mouth.  She only gagged once.

   "Don't swallow now, you're going to need that."  I lowered her
head and pushed back into her mouth.  She began sucking again. 
Much better.  It was my spit, after all, and I knew where it had
been.

   "Very good.  Now I'm going to fuck your face, darling -- and if
you bite me, I will hurt you a great deal."  I clenched my fists in
her hair for emphasis and she whimpered again.

   I began to plunge in and out of her mouth, but she couldn't keep
her teeth out of the way.  Well, that wasn't really her fault.  I
shifted one hand to the top of her head and took a tighter grip on
her hair.  Then I hooked two fingers over her bottom teeth and held
her lower jaw down.

   I began pushing my pulsating cock into the back of her mouth and
then down her throat.  She gagged in earnest and her breath, what
little she could draw, whistled in and out of her nostrils.  I felt
the warmness stir my pubic hair.

   I was becoming concerned that she might strangle before I could
finish, but at least she hadn't thrown up.  A few dry heaves was
the most she could manage.  That was another reason why late night
was best: Most young girls had very little in their stomachs by
that hour.  And, of course, she hadn't eaten because of the flu.

   Glancing at her hands, I saw that she had pulled so hard on the
slip-knotted cords that several of her fingers were turning deep
purple from lack of circulation.  I could feel my orgasm rising and
I rammed past her epiglottis as hard and as deep as I could.  On
the last lunge, I stretched her jaw a fraction lower and my balls
bounced into her mouth as well.

   I let go of her jaw then, because she already could hardly
breath and now my hair was poking up her nostrils.  She hadn't the
strength or the presence of mind to bite me.  I strained forward as
I climaxed deep down her throat.  Then I locked my fingers behind
her head and pulled her face even tighter against my crotch.  I
jerked several times as I continued to come and she jerked several
times as her air disappeared.

   I waited another two or three minutes until I felt her neck
muscles go slack and her body sag.  Then another minute, just to be
sure.  Finally, I extricated my genitals from her mouth.  Her lower
jaw remained open at an unusual angle.  Probably unhinged on one
side.  No need to leave her like that.

   I probed the back corner of her mandible with two fingers and
found the spot, then gave the lower front of her jaw an openhanded
blow that snapped it back into place.  Her jaw was undoubtedly
broken now, but it looked better.

   I went into her bathroom and splashed water on my face and
washed the residue off my genitals, and dried myself with one of
her towels, and brushed my hair with her brush.  I went back into
her bedroom and put on my sweatsuit.  Looking around, I remembered
to pick up the tube of K-Y.  Its smooth surface was an excellent
place to leave prints.  I knew from experience that the coarse hemp
cord wouldn't take prints so I left her tied.  Anyway, I could see
a few white wrist bones surrounded bychewed-looking flesh.  The
cord had tightened so far into her wrists and ankles, it would be
impossible to remove it without taking some of her with it.  All of
her had to stay here, though.

   I wasn't sure about the panties.  Could that thin cotton fabric
retain prints?  I reached over and pulled the wad of bloody, urine-
stained cloth from her vagina, and went back into the bathroom and
flushed it down the toilet.

   I paused again at the bedside and gently stroked the soft hairs
on the curve of her neck, her tanned shoulderblades, down her spine
to the small of her back, across her warm little bottom.

   Yes, a lovely, lovely girl.  But I could spare no more time for
affection.  I had to get back to the town meeting, so I could be
seen to leave with my wife and everyone else when it broke up.

   Then we would go home together and discover Carol's abused body
and call the police.

   
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Copyright 1993 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted
elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but commercial rights reserved.
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