Rape's Progress Part 13

by Sebastian X

Once again I was, thanks to luck and quick thinking, in the good graces of my sister-in-law Kim
and the all powerful criminal "Organization". Even Conrad, my older half-brother, had muttered
a puzzled "Well done!" when he heard I was now on the books as a potential tactician and hit
man, before he headed off to sea once more.

I now had time to consider the problem of how to rip the knickers off Miss Throsbie, the petit
blue-eyed blonde who taught accounting at the night school I attended. What attracted me, apart
from her physical attributes, was the fact that, although she appeared to be a very sexy little
package, she was totally unaware of the fact. She had made it clear that she disapproved strongly
of, "that sort of thing".

She was aged about twenty-five or six, stood about five foot two inches in heels, and was very
short sighted. She would peer over a student's shoulder to check the screen or paper, quite
unaware of the fact that one of her soft, full, breasts would dangle within range of his (the class
was all male) carelessly lifted arm. Her tartan skirt would stretch invitingly tight across her
derriere   raising the hem and revealing shapely black stockinged legs, with a hint of white flesh
above the stocking tops, to the great satisfaction of the student sitting in the desk behind. She
was a honey!

She was also a true believer, a member of the Purity League and a regular attendee at a
fundamentalist church which advocated no sex before marriage and very little after. She left
tracts on her desk which staff and students were invited to take, read and inwardly digest. These
educational pamphlets explained the way to salvation was through "clean living". Sex before
marriage was an abomination. Consummation of marriage was permitted only with the lights
out, nightwear modestly raised and in the missionary position. 

So seriously had Miss Throsbie taken this last injunction that she was engaged to be married to
one Gregory Goodman, who was saving souls in a remote village on the upper reaches of the
River Congo. Once she had earned enough money to pay for the journey to Bongolo Mission, she
said, she intended to abandon her classroom for married life in darkest Africa.

My plan was very simple. Through Kim's travel agency - a legitimate business specializing in
arranging flights for disabled travelers to remote destinations (an ideal cover for her white-
slaving activities) - I arranged a special travel package for the grateful Miss Throsbie - air to
Brazzaville then transfer by hire car to a boat destined for Bongolo Mission. The flight was
scheduled for the day after the night-school shut down for the holidays. Miss Throsbie was so
happy, little knowing she would get no further than the cellblock in Kim's warehouse. Here I
hoped to teach her some of the joys of sex before she took up residence in a middle eastern
household whose master needed financial advice and a blonde fuck-toy.

Even simple plans screw up, as the Scottish poet said.

Three of my classmates had decided to make Miss Throsbie's final night-school session a
memorable one. Earlier, she had antagonized them by confiscating a pornographic magazine
they were sniggering over during class. It featured a large breasted schoolmarm being spanked,
stripped, then gang-banged by her lusty pupils. Miss T. had failed to return the stick-book and
maintained that she had lost it. In fact it had been recovered from her desk by Graham, the leader
of the three. He decided to use it as the blueprint for Miss Throsbie's sexual enlightenment on
the last night of school. I knew nothing of this until the night in question. I expected to escort the
dainty blonde teacher to the "air port", calling at her apartment to pick up her bags. When
Graham heard this, he had Spud and Snotty, his two disciples, make me an offer. They said  I
could join them in their nefarious plan to deflower the maiden teacher or  . . . 

I didn't want my legs broken and quarter of a loaf is better than no bread, as my dear departed
Mamma used to say, so I smiled sweetly and accepted.

When just the four of us and the delightful and unsuspecting woman remained in the deserted
class room, Spud locked the door. Miss Throsbie did not notice. She picked up her briefcase,
ready to depart.

"Right, Sebastian," she said brightly, "shall we go?"

"Not just yet," said Graham, "we have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" she said, suspiciously. "What sort of surprise?"

"You remember that book you took from me?" sniggered Spud."The one where this teacher gets 
tied to her desk and the whole class watches her get spanked then  . . . "

"We found it!" declared Snotty. "And all the other stuff you kept in your desk. Who'd have
thought that the prissy Miss Throsbie, so pure, so proper, would have such a collection?! Such a
fetish!"

"What are you talking about?" she said, genuinely puzzled.

"Your secret is safe with us, Miss Throsbie," said Graham. He was holding a thin cane which he
had just taken from his sports bag. "We understand. And we are prepared, as a special favor to
you on your last night with us, to help you live out you hidden fantasy!"

"Yeah," sneered Spud, "That's right!" He moved behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Let go of me! What, 'hidden fantasy'? What nonsense are you talking?"

"Not nonsense, Miss Throsbie. As well you know!" said Graham, preventing her from moving
away from Spud with pressure from the cane. "Just look at the evidence! Show her, Snotty!"

Snotty came close to her. He was carrying a bundle of magazines, paperback books and a scrap
book full of teacher-related pornography down loaded from the web. 

"Found these in your desk. All the same theme. Like this one . . . 'Teacher Takes a Test',
illustrated. She gets stripped naked by the boys in the class who then . . .  well you can see what
they do to her. She loves it, see? And this one. 'An Apple for the Teacher'. Same deal but they tie
her up first and leave her for the janitor to untie. The dirty old bugger doesn't, of course, and she
comes again! She's wearing a mortar board, too. In fact they nearly all are. And not much else. Is
that part of the fetish, Miss?"

The teacher peered through her glasses having difficulty in seeing the printed words and pictures
Snotty was waving in front of her nose.

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" she said, primly. "Now, please, let me go. I have a
plane to catch!"

"Don't worry about that," said Graham. "Young Sebastian can take you to the airport when we've
finished with you. Just look at the stuff we found and show me which is your favorite scenario.
Don't pick 'Teacher's Pet', because we haven't got a nubile young schoolgirl for you to munch
on!"

"What?" said Miss Throsbie still unaware that she was in any sort of danger. She managed to
focus on some of the pornographic publications spread on a small table in the front of the
classroom. "Where did you get all these  . . .  Oh! Oh dear!"

She was staring at a full page illustration of a woman, naked apart from black stockings, pumps
and the ubiquitous mortarboard, bent over a desk being entered from both front and back by two
extremely well endowed young men. In the background another is keeping a tally on the
blackboard while the rest of the class has formed a line.

"I assure you none of this  . . .  this  . . .  filth is mine!" she said after a minute's silence.

"We found it in your desk!" lied Snotty.

"With a mortar board! What did you do? I'll bet you used to strip off after class, put on the old
hat, and frig yourself to a climax just thinkin' what we horny lads could do if only we knew,
eh?"put in Spud.

"It's not mine!" declared the teacher. "None of this  . . .  this  . . . belongs to me!"

"You would say that, wouldn't you?" said Graham.

I picked up one of the books and showed it to her. As she peered to focus on the small
illustrations I commented that the teacher in that epic was wearing no panties and wondered,
aloud, whether she was knickerless too. 

Before she could reply I slid my hand up her skirt, gently caressing her firm bottom before
taking a firm grip on her right buttock and forcing her panties (of course she was properly
dressed!) hard up against her tightly clenched arse.

She squeaked in surprise and tried to wriggle away from me but Spud had sat himself down in
front of us and so there was no escape. She began to say something in a high voice but stopped
when she saw what Spud was doing. He had unzipped his jeans. His tumescent penis was now
pointing at the startled teacher who stood, mesmerized, as he grabbed her left wrist and guided 
her delicate hand onto the swelling erection.

"That's what you really want, isn't it?" he said, easing her fingers around his cock and indicating,
by example, how she should handle the situation. "Times four?"

"N  . . .  No!" she gasped when she finally realized what she was holding and managed to jerk
her hand away.

I let her go and she made a dash for the door. When she discovered that it was locked she turned
but was still scrabbling at the door handle behind her back as she began to plead with the four of
us.

"Please," she began, "you're mistaken if you think any of these  . . .  these  . . .  disgusting
publications belong to me! I wouldn't  . . .  I couldn't . . .  Please, just stop this nonsense now and
open the door!"

"Nope!" said Graham, as he put an arm around the woman's waist. "Not until we've helped you
to live out your secret longings!" He hugged her and then kissed her on the lips. While the
diminutive teacher struggled to get away from Graham's embrace he ran his right hand up the
outside of her left leg and cupped a plump cheek, scandalously clad (for a Purity League
devotee)in black lace.

He picked her up and carried her to the table where the collection of teacher porn had been
piled. He sat her down on the table making sure her legs were spread either side of his jean-clad
hips. Her skirt rode up to show an expanse of soft white flesh above the black, elastic lace,
stocking-tops. She struggled to pull the hem down and demanded in a barely audible voice that
he, "StopitstopitstopitOhmygodno!"while Graham urged the rest of us to, "strip for action!"

She ceased her mantra and began to scream when Graham hauled the waistband of her skirt over
her hips and, at the same time, tore her blouse off her back. "Shut up! You stuck-up prissy little
bitch! No one will hear you! Besides, if there was anyone but us in the school do you think they'd
risk a beating to help you?"

When Graham peeled off his tee-shirt, she wriggled off the table, scattering some of the graphic
material. He caught her arm and led her back to the table.

"We're all going to fuck you, so forget trying to escape!" he said, as he fondled her lace clad
bottom.

"No! I beg you  . . . " she began to respond.

"Yes!" he interrupted fiercely. "I'm a butt man myself and I've watched you wriggle that plump
little tail in front of the class for the last year. I've dreamed about what it would be like to have
you bend over while I tenderized your rump before  . . .  before  . . .  When I found out that it's
your secret dream too, well, you can guess how happy I was. How happy we all were! How
willing to help you! So, bend over the table, Teacher, time for a little punishment!"

"Yeah!" sneered Spud. "It's what you get for being such a sneaky little bitch!"

"And it's our pleasure to give you what you've always wanted!" said Snotty.

"But it's not what I want!" she yelled. "What you are doing is rape! I don't want  . . . "

"Shut up!" bellowed Graham. "Let's have the mortar board, Kid!" he ordered me. "And my little
tail tickler!"
     
I hurried to obey and quickly placed the academic headgear on her head while giving one of her
lace-covered tits a preliminary pat. "Try to relax, Miss Throsbie," I whispered in her ear. "You
might find a thorough spanking really turns you on!"

Graham gave the teacher six cuts of the cane across her panty-covered bottom while I held the
sobbing woman on the table. The other two would-be rapists stood by and watched. Each savage
blow that Graham landed made Miss Throsbie howl and beg for us to stop. It was clear that her
pathetic pleading was getting Graham more excited and after the sixth stroke of the cane  he
unzipped his jeans and let his erection spring free of the restraint.

"Get her pants off!" He grunted huskily.

I pulled her upright. She struggled to focus on her tormentor and it took a moment or two before
she registered that the half-naked youth who had beaten her was still wielding the cane and with
his other hand he was slowly pumping his stiff and dribbling cock.

"You heard what he said!" I snapped. "Strip!"

Shocked by the sight of Graham's slow masturbation and still stinging from the short but savage
caning she didn't move, so I reached around her and unclipped her bra. It was one that fastened
in the front. I took a breast in each hand. I squeezed.  And squeezed.

She snapped out of her immobility."No! Oh please, stop!" she begged.

"I said, 'strip', Miss Throsbie!" I stated quietly but firmly. 

Then, with increasing volume, ending in a shout, "That means get your fucking knickers off!
NOW!" 

She jumped. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her pants and, with a wail of despair,
slipped them halfway down her calves before she remembered to discard the tartan miniskirt,
still tangled around her ankles. As she struggled with the recalcitrant garments I pressed my
growing erection into the exposed crack so temptingly, but artlessly, displayed. The harassed
teacher straightened with alacrity and shed her bra.

Miss T. started to sob in earnest. She stood with her right knee pressed across the left in an effort
to hide her sex. Her black stockings and pumps contrasted with the soft white flesh of her naked
thighs. One hand and arm shielded her exposed breasts while the other hand fluttered in front of
her mount of Venus. She was still wearing her glasses and now, probably for the first time since
graduation, a mortar board. Around her, on the floor and on the desk, was a collection of
pornography, illustrating what we, her tormentors, intended to do to the helpless woman.

Spud and Snotty gave hoots of approval as the teacher tried to cover her nakedness with her
hands. They had started to undress but it seemed they were waiting for Graham and me to set the
pace.

"Let's see her cunt!" laughed Spud.

"Yeah! Show us your tits!" drooled Snotty predictably.

Surprisingly, Miss Throsbie's cunt had been clipped clear of pubic hair. No doubt with the
hazards of darkest Africa in mind. Her tits were like two firm strawberry tipped blancmange,
pale, firm, but tending to wobble when moved.

"Time for more punishment," sighed Graham. " Before we fuck you stupid. Get over the table
again!"

She shook her head. She wobbled. Tears splashed on her trembling flesh.

"Oh! God! No! Please, Graham, Sebastian, boys, don't do this! If you rape me, you'll go to
prison! But worse . . .  you'll burn in  . . . "

"Shut her up!" ordered Graham.

I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and forced her head down onto the pile of pornography on
the table. She squealed and I saw her hands come together as if in prayer as she begged, pleaded
and cajoled with us not to do what we were intent upon.

Graham began to beat her again, this time on her bare backside. After about ten cuts of the cane 
he asked her if she was juiced up. Miss Throsbie either didn't hear or didn't understand or was
just too terrified to know what the hell was going on, so I forced one of her legs onto the table
and pressed a couple of fingers into her distended cunt.

"Dry as Methodists' wine cellar!" I reported.

"Smart arse!" sneered Graham. "Get your hand out of the way!" 

He entered her. With difficulty. Anally. I was surprised, but he had said he was a butt man and, I
guess, he meant it.

As he forced a passage he held her neck against the desk. The teacher's eyes were screwed shut
in pain and humiliation.  His were closed in ecstacy. She screamed a steady high-pitched scream
as slowly, inch by gristly inch, Graham pressed into her tightly clenched arse. After what seemed
like an age he gave a gasp of triumph. His mop of pubic hair was hard up against the base of her
spine. Graham had achieved maximum penetration. Miss Throsbie continued to protest in a low,
forlorn moan punctuated by wracking sobs.

Graham then began to undulate his hips, gradually, so his swollen, thick veined, cock moved in
and out of his victims' rectum a little at a time. He let go her neck and gripped the sorely
punished cheeks of her plump little bottom. As his rhythm became faster, the strokes became
longer and the drive, into and up Miss T.'s tush, stronger. The table jerked forward as the woman
absorbed the painful shock of each thrust.

Graham started to grunt in time with each punishing thrust. Miss Throsbie responded with a
squeal of pain and an extra loud sob. The table seemed to protest, too, moving forward as it did
so. Snotty and Spud thought the sound effects accompanying the anal rape of their teacher were
hilarious. They showed their appreciation by clapping and grunting and squealing in time with
the rapist and his victim. Their din grew louder, and the tempo faster, as Graham neared his
climax.

Miss Throsbie tried to straighten up. She put both hands flat on the small table and forced her
head up. This had the effect of pushing her breasts together and forward where they swung and
shuddered in time with Graham's penetrating strokes. I reached out to fondle one of the soft
white tits but Graham beat me to the prize. His hands closed around them and, as he ejaculated
deep inside her, he milked her soft white breasts unmercifully.

The class room boasted  a washroom with a basin and toilet. Graham let Miss Throsbie use the
facility to clean up while he wiped his member on the remnants of her blouse. He found a bottle
of Eau De Cologne in her briefcase which he poured over her then dragged her, wild eyed but no
longer screaming, back into the classroom.

"Now you're a whore," he laughed, "you may as well smell like one! Kid, you're next. How do
you want her? Cheesus!"

The blasphemy was, presumably, because he had just noticed what I was about to introduce to
the trembling Miss Throsbie. I may have mentioned, in earlier chronicles, that I am well
endowed in the pork sword department. The startled teacher began to protest.

"No!" she said, backing into Graham as if he would protect her. "No! Oh god! Please! Sebastian!
No!"

I advanced, naked and erect. Due to the difference in our height I was menacing her belly button
with the tip of my tool when Graham threw his arms around her chest, below the milk pudding
breasts I had planned to dine on, and lifted the startled woman off the ground.

I entered Miss Throsbie steadily, raising one of her legs over my shoulder to aid separation of
her labia and deeper penetration. She started to scream again as I went in. She was a tight
squeeze and not very big. I was butting into her cervix before she had absorbed the full length of
my erection. As rapes go, this one was quite gentle. With Graham holding onto her and
muttering obscene promises of what he was going to do to her arsehole when it was his turn
again, I was able to play with her strawberry colored nipples and finger her surprisingly large
clitoris.

Her early screams became a rhythmic sobbing, in time to my carefully measured strokes and
well-practiced fingering.

"Look at the Kid!" cried Spud. "Where'd you learn to do that!"

"Look at the slut!" chimed in Snotty. "She loves it!"

And indeed it may have looked like that because, as I skillfully manipulated her erectile tissue,
she began, quite unwittingly - I'm sure, against her conscious inclination and the dictates of the
purity league - to respond.

Her nipples hardened and grew. Her sobs became less stressful and more like sighs of
contentment. I had less difficulty sliding in and out of her tight little cunt, as lubricating juices
began to flow. I was still building to my climax when her hips began to judder and buck, her
vaginal muscles began to spasm, and her moans became one long squeal of animal pleasure, as
Miss Throsbie experienced her first ever orgasm. (I didn't know that it was her first at the time,
of course, but she told me later.)

This unlikely development excited Spud and Snotty beyond reason and I was still jetting warm
cum when they hauled her off me. They were panting like dogs mad for a bitch. They kissed and
pawed the confused woman as they pulled her, unresisting, back to the table with its dressing of
pornography.

Graham bundled me into the small wash room.

"That's all the fun you're going to get tonight, Kid!" he said. "You'll have to wait until the
morning before you get another feel of La Throsbie. We'll be long gone when the janitor finds
her and the cops come to investigate you!" He locked the door.

I could hear enough through the door to follow what happened in outline. When the trio started
to use the cane again she screamed so loudly that they gagged her. They tied her to the table after
Graham had made her crouch, head down and arse uppermost, while he made good his threat of
a second helping of sodomy. Spud and Snotty, by later accounts, suffered from premature
ejaculation. Once they had, briefly, enjoyed the charms of the bound and supine mistress - Snotty
creamed her milk-pudding tits while Spud entered her well-lubricated cunt - they grew nervous,
and perhaps felt a bit guilty. It wasn't long before they left. The teacher, still gagged, was tied to
a chair under the whiteboard. Graham partly dressed her, covering her pudenda with the black
lace knickers, but I have no idea why, before taking to the road in my car. It was one borrowed
from Kim, my sister-in-law, earlier that evening.

That was their second mistake.

The first was thinking that I couldn't get out of the washroom. Graham had left Miss Throsbie's
brief case next to the wash basin and with her nail file and tweezers I had the lock picked in
under half an hour. I waited until they left before emerging and discovered that they had taken
not only my car-keys but also my clothes and wallet. This was annoying. I had hoped to cope
with the problem without calling for help. 

Being bare-arsed and bootless, there was little choice. I used Miss Throsbie's cell phone and
explained my difficult to Kim. She was more amused than angry and gave the Turk - her in-
house muscle - the job of rescuing me and recovering the car and my property. No real problem
as the vehicle was fitted with the latest anti-theft devices and could be located using satellite
technology.

The Turk, who does not hold me in high regard, went after the trio first. No doubt he hoped that
I would catch a nasty cold, my being stark bollocky. In fact I used the time to good effect. I
fondled her breasts and gave her poor, sore, pussy a pat before I ungagged  the trembling Miss
Throsbie and introduced her to the art of fellatio. Not the whole thing. Her mouth was too small
to accommodate all I had to offer without risk of some injury to me from her little white teeth.
But she was able to mumble the sensitive tip of my glans with her lips and to run the tip of her
moist, pink, tongue up and down the base of my shaft from scrotum to tip and back again. Her
efforts were rewarded when, to her surprise, I came bountifully on her flushed cheeks and in her
soft blonde hair.

The Turk found Graham and friends in a motel on the edge of town. They were planning to
scatter the next morning to places far distant. He was not gentle. Spud and Snotty suffered
multiple contusions and some broken bones. Graham  . . .  well . . .  the Turk's tastes are not
mine, but Graham did say he was a "butt man", didn't he?

End RP 13
