Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Title: The Prayer Author: Glove Puppet Summary: (Formerly titled Collection Point) Almost completed! Three of the four 'acts' now written. The final appalling act still to be written. This partially completed story chronicles a man's intense desire for a pretty child he spies in the local catalogue shop. Standing with her mother, waiting to pay for their purchase at the payment counter, the man experiences time gradually slowing to a standstill, everyone and everything grinding to a halt. All that is, except for himself, and the child. Codes: Mg7, ped, nc, viol, rape impalement Posted: 2016/04/21 1. Time Stands Still 'Juice Fountain Elite - 850 watt - $150'. Expensive enough, but health is important I guess, so using one of the ridiculously stubby store pencils, I fill in the paper slip. I try to figure out in my head whether I have enough money in my current account to cover the cost, or whether to use my credit card. I decide on the credit card. Expensive enough way to stay healthy! I go over and join the queue for the payment counter and wait my turn to pay. It's Friday evening, and the catalog store is busy with people spending their wages. The queue is long, and doubles back on itself, a row of roped bollards channeling people first one way, then the other towards the payment counter. Ahead of me, a young woman, early twenty's, pretty enough. In front of her, two young men, chatting enthusiastically about some video game or other. In front of them, nearly at the apex of the Queue, just before it turns back on itself, a mother and child. The mother has already turned the 180 degrees in anticipation of making it to the final straight towards the payment counter. Good looking, tall and slim, thirty something, narrow heart shaped face, framed by long hair pulled tight in a pony tail. High forehead, intelligent eyes. The child, a girl, probably about 7, or 8 at a pinch, has yet to turn. Dark hair like her mother's, held in place by what appears to be some kind of velvet Alice band, I can't quite tell from behind. The queue moves at a glacial pace, but eventually the mother and daughter traverse around the apex. The mother, who is already facing towards the checkout counter, sighs. Relieved at having made it to the halfway point, but resigned to a long wait still. The girl, fidgeting, alternately grasps then releases the hem of her pretty dress, each time revealing a little of her smooth skinned thigh. Unlike her mother, she has yet to turn towards the counter. But now she turns. She turns. And my world turns. I am not a believer, although I used to be, many years ago. But in this timeless moment, I feel the very core of my non-belief being shaken. How can I not believe when in the presence of such beauty. Just a few yards away from me, radiating an almost corporeal outpouring of grace and purity, this child, an innocent, would be unaware of the perfection of form that has been bestowed upon her. And unaware also, of my growing, agonized desire to possess such beauty. She notices me staring at her. She looks slightly unnerved, she moves closer to her mother, reaching for her mother's hand. And why wouldn't she be unnerved - by this tall, confused looking middle aged man, staring rapturously at her. Our eyes remain locked, and just as I feel I am about to about to pass out, time begins to slow. It actually begins to slow. Imperceptibly at first, but ever more so. The animated chatter of the two young men begins to slur. The beat of the bland shop muzak - which I hadn't been aware of until now - changes tempo. Eventually, it stops. Time grinds to a halt. The two young men, now halted, comically, in mid conversation. The young woman in front of me, already motionless as she waited listlessly in the cue, now immobile, unmoving. Everyone and everything, stopped. That is, except for myself, and this child. This girl-child. This object of my desire. In this single, eternal, paused moment, I realize that I have found a balm for my ache, an ache that I hadn't been aware of, until now. I realize that this newly manifested ache can only be eased by this child. This gift from heaven, for there must be a heaven, would - will - require to be corrupted. My desire to have absolute and total ownership of such grace and beauty would require that she relinquish hers. Totally, Utterly, Completely. Now both aware that we seem to be the only animate beings in this paused world. We look around in amazement at the interior of the catalogue shop. Business is definitely bad today. A whimper. My attention is immediately brought back to the girl. I so badly need this dainty child, but I also need to postpone her realization of her impending fate for as long as possible. I need her to remain innocent of the implications of each successive act that I will perform with her - upon her - until each act is about to begin. So I must be gentle and reassuring - devious some might say. -- Don't be frightened. -- I'm scared. What's happening. -- It's going to be alright. Time has stopped - just like a clock. She doesn't understand - I don't think I do either. -- come with me, over here. Hesitantly, she moves over to where I am standing. I take her hand gently in mine, and lead her over to some comfy chairs near the shop window area. We sit down, myself and this beautiful child. -- Are you still frightened? She nods. -- Well lets see if we can make you feel better. 2. The Prayer -- Do you believe in Jesus? -- Yes. -- Do you say your prayers every night before you go to sleep? -- Yes. -- What do you pray for? She tilts her head to one side, cups her check in one palm and thinks for a moment. -- Um, I don't know. -- Do you have a doggy? -- No. -- Do you have any pets? Immediately, her eyes light up. -- Yes, Rizzo! -- Who is Rizzo? And with pride, she intones - he is my cat! It would break your heart to see this pretty child speak so adoringly about the thing she loves more than anything else in the world. It occurs to me that she will soon know some thing - some one - she would forever hate more than anything else in the world. -- Do you pray to Jesus about Rizzo? -- Yes. -- What do you say? Again, she thought. -- Do you pray that Rizzo will be safe? -- Yes. -- Do you pray that Rizzo will be happy? -- Yes. -- How do you say it? -- Hmm - Say after me. For someone so repellent to those who aspire to lead their lives with such compassion and love as demonstrated by their lord and saviour, I surprise myself at how convincingly and lovingly I prompt her. -- Dear Jesus... A moment's thought, and joyfully she exclaims. -- Please let Rizzo be safe! -- And happy? -- Please let Rizzo be happy! -- What do you say at the end of your prayer? In a bold confident voice, she announced: -- Ahhh..Men! -- Now, I need you to say another prayer. She looks at me, puzzled. -- I need you to say after me. Will you do that? A little hesitantly, she agrees. ---- Dear Jesus. -- Dear Jesus. -- I pray that I will be a good girl. -- I pray that I will be a good girl. -- And that I will do what I'm told. -- And that I will do.. -- What I'm told. -- What I am told. -- And that I will.. -- And that I will.. -- Try not to cry. Head to one side, she looks up at me quizzically, a little fearfully. With an assuring smile, I coax her gently. -- Just say it, sweetheart. -- And try not to cry. -- Even when the pain.. She seems a little more frightened now. -- Even when the.. -- Pain. -- Pain. -- Gets really bad. -- really bad. -- Amen This time, and with a good deal less certainty, she speaks softly, almost in a whisper. -- Amen 3. Preparation Standing, with feet slightly apart, toes turned inwards. She looks up at me quizzically, apprehensibly. -- Now, do you know what rape is? Of course, she doesn't. But I want to savour her innocence - whilst she still retains it. -- Would you like me to tell you? Looking at me pensively, she slowly nods her head. Her crowning glory - her long tresses, softly caress her cheeks with each tilt of her head. -- Well, I will tell you. Taken unawares, I am overcome with a monumental surge of euphoria, accompanied by a rush of blood to my penis - the twin arteries of the corpora cavernosa enlarging, allowing the raging torrent of blood-lust to enter, and begin hoisting the mast - and I realize in this instant that I am about to be granted the ultimate privilege. The most beautiful experience imaginable. That of totally and utterly robbing this child of her innocence. Fate is offering me this opportunity to excise this pretty, pixie featured angel's childhood. And replace it with..a void, a vacuum, a dreadful nothingness. My one purpose in life, being to ensure that she lives out her life, filled with revulsion towards herself, sorrow at her inability to function psychologically, and perhaps even physically. -- Now, rape is when a man has sex with a woman, but she doesn't want it. Her expression blank, she obviously doesn't know about the origins of life. -- Well I am going to have sex with you. Would you like that? Silence. -- Would you? A tiny shiver of uncertainty in her response. -- No. -- Well I am going to have sex with you anyway. I am going to rape you. She looks up at me tearfully. -- Now, before we can have sex, you need to take your panties down. She looks up, pleadingly, her eyes tearing up. -- So, will you take them down, or will I take them down for you? She stands stock still. She hasn't moved an inch since saying her prayer. Her pretty cotton dress - blue and white flower print. The thin material providing hints at the shape of her dainty body - the curve of a buttock, the small of her back. Enough to know that she, more than any other potential recipient, is the nearest to physical perfection as could be imagined. -- Be a good girl now. Tearfully now, she thrusts her hands shakily under each side of the hem of her dress, bunching it up at her hips, at the same time looping her fingers into the waste band of her panties. A scrap of cotton, her last barrier. She tugs downwards, the hem of her dress descending again. -- Now, I'm going to show you something. Still tearful, her eyes level with my crotch, she watches fearfully as I unzip myself. -- Do you know what I keep in here? Questioningly now. -- Your willy? -- That's right. Now, try not be frightened, but I have a very big willy, and I am going to show it to you. She looks worried now. -- Remember your prayer to Jesus? About how brave you wanted to be? -- Yes -- Well, I know that Jesus was listening, and I know that he wants you to be a really brave girl. A pause. -- OK I fish for the straining shaft and heave. Out it pops, foreskin pulling back in the process - shiny cyclops eyed glans meets her startled gaze almost straight on - it already seeping pre-ejaculatory fluid. This, will be the instrument of her undoing. -- You see how big it is? No answer. -- Hold your dress up. Obediently, meekly, she hoists up her dress, her panties still around her ankles. smooth silky child skin enswaithed mons Veneris, below which nestles the seductive vulva, it's vertical beauty enchanting, spellbinding. So fascinating, the irony that a possessor of this most desirable of natural resources is so reluctant to allow them it to be mined, plundered. And in the case of this bright (but soon to be dimmed) little button, having not a clue as to the nature of the treasure she is possessed of. -- Good girl. You are very pretty down there. You can drop your dress now. She releases the hem once more. -- Now I know you are probably feeling a bit frightened.. She nods. -- So I have someone here who you can cuddle. I bring out a floppy eared stuffed bunny. Her face lightens up at the sight. I pass it to her. -- He's so cute! She snuggles it against her cheek, turning side to side as she hugs it tight. -- You know, if you cuddle him tight enough, he will help you not to cry while you are being raped. Her fear returning, she tries, pathetically, to dissuade me. -- No.. please don't do it. -- I'm afraid I have to. Now, do you know how I'm going to rape you? She shakes her head slowly. -- Well I will tell you. I mentally prepare myself for her first lesson on the facts of life - tailored to the situation in hand of course. I take hold of my shaft, drawing her attention to it. -- You see this. She stares blankly at it. -- Well, I am going to put this inside you. Her eyes tear up and she begins to sob quietly. -- I don't want it. -- But you must have it. And do you know how I am going to put this inside you? -- No -- I am going to push it inside... Lifting her dress again, I caress her vulva softly with the back of my hand. --..here. Still clutching her bunny rabbit, her protests become more vociferous, she is now openly sobbing. -- I don't want it! -- I know, but I'm afraid you have to. Now whining, seeing no way out of her predicament, she becomes resigned to her fate. -- Will it hurt? -- Yes, I'm afraid it will hurt. -- No..No.. -- You must be a brave little girl. Remember what you prayed for? Jesus really really wants you to be a brave little girl. The terrified little girl in the pretty blue summer dress is finding it difficult to comprehend how this gently spoken man is proposing to put his giant willy inside her. Surely her pee-pee is far too little for it to fit inside. -- I.. w..want.. my.. mummy! -- So this is what's going to happen. Taking hold of my penis in one hand, I continue. -- My willy is like a big long snake, and your pee-pee is like a little hole. And so my big willy is going to slide inside your pee-pee hole. But my willy is really really long, so it will have to slide all the way inside your tummy. Snuffling quietly now, she clutches her bunny tightly. -- You are only little, and my willy is very big, so to make it easier for my willy to go inside, we need to make it nice and slippery. Will you help me make it nice and slippery? Resigned to her fate, she sobs quietly. -- Y..es. I take out a tube of lubricant. I unscrew the cap. Taking her tiny hand by the wrist, I turn it palm side up and squeeze out a good dollop of the clear gel onto her hand. I instruct her to rub her hands together. -- Yuk-ee! I guide her slippery little hands to the base of my tumescent shaft and press her fingers into place around it, the fingertips of each hand barely able to touch one another around my thickness, her thumbs pressing into my urethra. -- It's all squishy! For the time-being, her attention is focused on this weird act that she is being instructed to perform. Her attention taken off her terrible fate. For the moment, she is focused on making this huge willy nice and slippery, focused on how weirdly spongy it feels - yet hard at the same time. The shiny glans, with it's unseeing eye is a little scary, but she does as she is instructed and coats the penis with lubricant, from root to neck. -- Good girl. Now it's time. Suddenly remembering her predicament, she starts her sobbing again. -- sit up. She obeys - what else can she do. I have her lean back and pull her feet up onto the seat cushion of the comfy chair. I gently spread her legs, gently guiding her into the frog-leg position. Her crotch comes into view, her vulva parting slightly - providing a glimpse of her intact hymen, which shortly will be required to undergo significant trauma. My shaft now thoroughly lubricated, and glans self-lubricated with a significant amount of pre-ejaculatory fluid, I begin the tricky process of breaking and entering. 4. The First Act I am suddenly overcome by a wave of pity. This delicate girl, this little ray of sunshine - what could she ever have done to deserve this? What has even the vilest of human beings ever done to deserve such a fate as the one this fragile little child is about to be subjected to? Nothing warrants it. But this ache, this malevolent desire of mine to corrupt, mentally, physically, spiritually, must prevail. Visibly trembling now, mewling shakily like a terrified kitten, she clutches her bunny rabbit, tightly squishing it to her cheek. She watches. I remove my trousers. The last few inches of my still erect penis is trapped upright by the waistband of my briefs. It is still slick - even slicker as fluid continues to seep from the tip. I remove my briefs. The veiny cylinder now granted its freedom, drops heavily, bobbing up and down until it comes to rest at a slight incline. I speak gently, careingly. -- It will be alright, it really will. She looks up at me, still mewling. -- Keep still. Now, my big willy is going to give your peepee a nice little kiss. No answer. I shuffle up closer, and straighten up, thrusting my hips forward until the tip of my penis gently squishes against her silky smooth vulva, imparting it's first lewd kiss. I savour the tingle. Some seconds later, I pull away slowly. The single glistening gossamer thread of pre-ejaculate connecting swollen glans to child vulva, slowly stretches, thins, then silently snaps. I sit back on my haunches. I reach out and take hold of her hand. -- That wasn't so bad was it? 5. The Second Act -- Now, before I can put my willy inside you, we need to stretch your peepee hole to make it bigger.. Alarmed, she pulls her hand away. Legs still spread, she heaves herself backwards in panic. But she only succeeds in pushing herself further back into the chair. I take up the tube of lubricant, this time applying a smear to the tip of my forefinger. -- Be a good girl and keep still. Shivering now, her eyes tearing up again. She looks down helplessly as I maneuverer my finger into position. And push. Her frightened kitten mewls give way to a single high pitched scream. Let her scream. No-one will hear her in this stilled world. Her girlhood, previously intact, now breached. Stingingly, painfully breached. I complement her. -- That's it. You're a brave girl. Your mummy be will be very proud of you. Now, I'm going to push it further inside, OK? Her mewling resumes, she meets my kindly gaze tearfully, pleadingly. Knowing that this is only the pre-cursor to the full invasion to follow, fills me with an exquisite joy, a desire to offer up a heart felt prayer of gratitude to the creator of this embodiment of innocent beauty. I am brought back to the task in hand by her protest. -- No. -- Be brave. Her hymen now partially torn, I am surprised at how easily my finger slips further inside. I flex my finger slightly and the tight cavity conforms. I angle my finger slightly, first one way, then the other, her tiny vagina, like a finger puppet, complies. I attempt to penetrate further, but am met with resistance - accompanied by a squeal of discomfort. Her cervix. I am intrigued at how relatively short her passage is. It had been obvious to me since my first appraisal - those few short minutes ago - that her vagina alone, would be unable to provide sufficient accommodation during the final brutal act, but I hadn't realized how pathetically inadequate. I slide my finger out, accompanied by an almost inaudible sucking sound followed by a little 'plip' as it parts company. -- That wasn't too bad now, was it? 6. The Third Act I have now to decide whether to more fully prepare her tender body, or to commence the full invasion immediately. Bludgeoning her virgin cervix with my fleshy battering ram would likely cause extensive trauma. Although my ultimate aim actually is to cause her pain, I want her to be conscious throughout. I make my decision. We are, appropriately, in a shop that caters for all kinds of home and garden activities. -- I'll be back in a little while. Be a good girl and stay where you are. I get to my feet, leaving the gently sobbing little girl for the moment. My fully erect penis bobs up and down as I walk over to the nearest catalogue stand. I quickly locate what I am looking for - Kitchen Ware - Food Preparation - Knife Sets! I read through the descriptions of each one, finally deciding on the 'Steiner five piece professional knife set' - this will do nicely. No need to write the number down this time. I move over to the Collection Point counter, fiddle with the latch underneath the access hatch for a few seconds. I succeed in opening it and walk through to the warehousing section. How is stuff arranged in this place? I guess that it must mirror the layout of the catalogue. Yes, I see a sign for Kitchenware at the entrance to one of the main isles. Moving down the isle I see signs for Food Storage, Chopping Boards, Utensils. Yes, getting close now. I locate stacks of different makes and types of knife sets and am quickly able to find what I am looking for. When I arrive back at the array of comfy chairs, penis only half erect now, I place the box on the glass table in front of the comfy chair. The quietly sobbing girl still sitting with feet up on the seat squab, but now with her knees drawn together, head to one side, cheek pressed to her knees. Her bunny lies on the floor beside the chair. She will shortly need her bunny. She will need it very badly. She will need to hug her bunny very very tightly as she undergoes the next atrocity - the next vile procedure. -- Hello sweetie. Her sobbing subsided, snuffling now. She shakes her head. -- Look what I have here. I open the box, take out a beautiful looking teak knife block with the knives already installed in their slots. I withdraw each in turn, examine it, then replace it, finally finding the one I am looking for - a narrow bladed fillet knife. -- Look at what I have. It's lovely and shiny. Do you want to touch it? She hesitates for a moment, then with a shaky finger, she touches the side of the blade. She looks surprised. -- It's cold. -- Yes it is, and it's very sharp and pointy. Now I want you to sit back in the chair again. I spread her legs again and kneeling down in front of her again. -- Now here's your bunny rabbit. She takes it, and clasps it tightly to her chest, it's cheeky face half obscured by a tress of her silky hair. -- Keep still. I'm going to open your peepee again. I place thumb and forefinger on apposing sides of her delicate vulva and draw them slowly apart, revealing the purpleish bruised flesh of her newly injured hymen. -- Ow,Ow..it hurts. -- I know sweetie, I know. Try to be brave. Now, I am going to open it a little more so that I can see right inside you, OK? -- Oh..it hurts. -- It's alright, I can see inside you now. I won't open it any further. Not for the moment anyway. I hunker down at eye level with her opened girlhood. What a pretty view. Beyond her stretched-open hymen, the vagina, and just visible within, her tiny cervix. Oh what a heavenly sight. My penis, newly invigorated, begins to swell again. Even though the thought of it makes me squeamish, I know what I must do. I take hold of the knife in my other hand and, as steadily as I can, I move the blade towards her genitals. -- Uhh, Uhh. She tries to scrabble her way off the chair, but with a firm grasp, I clamp her soft little abdomen with my other hand, holding her in place whilst bringing the tip to bear upon that tiny tightness, her inner virginity. -- Keep still. Will you be a good, brave girl for me? Will you? -- Uhh.. -- Think how proud your mummy will be when she finds out how brave you are. Her struggles lessen slightly, but as the tip of the cold, hard knife makes contact with the center of the tiny sealed-shut cervix, she lets in a sudden in rush of air. Before she can let out a scream, I press the tip through the central cross shaped depression, the blade so sharp, I hardly need apply any pressure other than to guide the knife through the couple of centimeters of flesh, just sufficient to create an opening to her prepubescent uterus. I take a moment to admire my handywork. -- You look so pretty. So pretty with this inside you. Remaining remarkably still, she looks down. -- See how the knife has gone all the way inside your peepee? See how lovely and shiny the metal looks? She looks up at me, pleadingly. The knife being so sharp, the cut nerves haven't yet registered the pain. The knife blade is narrow, so I increase the height of the incision by very carefully levering the double edged blade first up by a centimeter, then down. That should be sufficient - sufficient to enable my fully erect penis to push it's way through into her most sacred chamber. As I withdraw the knife, she moves slightly. She emits a pathetic little scream - almost a whisper. Even so, it fully conveys her agony, as her pretty head now registers the waves of pain transmitted via the severed cervical nerves as the two sides of the wound slide against each other. I release her stretched-open vulva once again. As I do so, she immediately scrunches forward, digging her balled fists into her damaged genitals. She emits a high pitched wavery whine. -- It hurts sooo much. I immediately push her hands away, forcing her into her previously reclining position. Her vulva fully visible, I admire her neat and tidy little body. As I do so, her vertical slit begins, very slowly, to ooze a seam of cherry red blood. -- I hope you are trying your best to be a brave girl. Does it hurt very badly? She manages a shaky nod, and half whispers, half hisses. -- Yess.. -- Well, I am going to put my big willy inside you now. It should be able to slide into your tummy through the new hole that I cut inside your peepee. You must be very brave, because this is going to hurt very badly. She whispers, calmly - almost inaudibly. -- No, no. Any vestige of sorrow for this little morsel has now dissipated. I am about to ease my ache. She will be my balm, my cure, my elixir. 7. The Final Act To be continued.. If you would like to leave a comment about this story, please visit https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Glove_Puppet/www/feedback.htmlThe Prayer