Posted 20030608 to alt.sex.stories.moderated. 
Heatherlyn (MF, rape, f-solo, dildo)
by Philip Harris

"Take off your shirt first," he said.

"Please," Heatherlyn pleaded.  "I'm . . ."  She dared not 
tell him that she was a virgin.  She knew that then he'd be 
sure to insist on sex with her.

At twenty-one years old Heatherlyn was still a virgin.  She 
was a good girl and went to church every week.  It had been 
a quiet day at the small museum where Heatherlyn worked as 
Sunday afternoon curator.  There was never any trouble.  
The museum was small, seldom visited, housing only a small 
and precious collection of magnificent Chinese Jade and 
Ivory.  

"Take off your shirt, now!" he demanded.  

He had been the last visitor of the evening.  Heatherlyn 
had thought he'd left.  She'd sent the gift shop girl home, 
and had locked all the entrances and was tallying the day's 
receipts when he emerged from the men's room.

Heatherlyn slowly untied the bow at her collar.  Her blouse 
was off-white, and see-through, at least to the extent of 
showing off her lovely brown shoulders and black, lacy bra.  
Although a virgin by choice, Heatherlyn knew how to dress 
attractively. 

She slowly undid her blouse buttons, her neatly manicured, 
clear-lacquered fingernails undoing each white button, and 
then opening her blouse only slightly.  Pulling her 
shirttails from her knee-length black skirt, she undid the 
last of the shirt buttons and then stood there, still 
modestly covered.

"Hold your shirt open for me," he told her.  His eyes were 
as hungry as a wolf as Heatherlyn revealed her lovely, 
chocolate colored breasts, generously displayed in 
plunging, black lace bra cups.  Tears fell silently from 
her eyes, running down her cheeks and dripping onto her 
breasts.  Heatherlyn was a brave girl, and had faith that 
she would somehow endure this.

"Stop crying," he ordered her.

"Sorry," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and 
then from her breasts.  Heatherlyn knew that she had no 
choice in what was to come and she didn't want to displease 
or anger him.  Her blouse was now held open only by the 
ampleness of her breasts.

"These are very nice," he said, reaching toward her and 
caressing the tops of her breasts with his fingertips.  His 
fingers looked very pink against the rich brown flesh of 
her breasts.  She felt a sudden revulsion, which she was 
immediately ashamed of.  No white man had ever touched 
Heatherlyn sexually before.  She told herself that it 
didn't matter what color he was, that he was just one of 
the bad men in the world.

Now his fingers lifted Heatherlyn's breasts from below, as 
if weighing them.  He bounced them playfully, up and down 
together, and then alternately.  His thumbs felt through 
her bra for her nipples.

"What size tits are these?" he asked.

"Thirty-four C," Heatherlyn answered directly.  She decided 
that she was going to cooperate, and maybe talk her way out 
of the worst of it.

"They're very nice," he said.  "You have really splendid 
breasts, did you know that?"

"Thank you," Heatherlyn said.  She knew that she had very 
nice breasts.  She'd let boys get to second base with her 
before, but that was as far as she ever went.

"Take off your skirt now please," he said, stepping back to 
watch her.

His "please" made Heatherlyn giggle nervously.  She undid 
the two big buttons at her hip, and unzipped the zipper.  
She stepped out of her skirt, but held it in front of her.

"Put your clothes on that big chair," he said, indicating 
the Concubine Couch.  This was where he'd brought her after 
he told Heatherlyn that he didn't want the museum's money 
or artifacts, he only wanted sex with her.  He'd brought 
her over to the ornately and erotically carved wooden 
couch, said to be used for sex with concubines.

Heatherlyn turned around and bent over as she placed her 
black skirt neatly on the lush red lacquered couch.  She 
hesitated, and then removed her blouse, folding it neatly 
and placing it on the chair also.  When she turned around 
she stood before her captor wearing just her black dress 
sandals and her black lace underwear.

He looked her body over for several minutes, making 
Heatherlyn turn around again so that he could look at her 
behind.  When she turned back, her eyes caught sight of the 
security video camera on the wall.  That was right, all 
this was being videotaped!  It embarrassed Heatherlyn to 
think of herself being videotaped in her underwear.  If she 
could get him to look toward the camera then maybe the 
police could identify him later.  Oh but then the police 
would see her stripped to her underwear like this!  

Heatherlyn quickly looked away from the camera, to avoid 
his noticing it.  She tried to not even think about it.  If 
he spotted the camera then he might somehow get the 
videotape.

"I want to see your tits now," he said, interrupting 
Heatherlyn's thoughts.  She took her bra off while he 
watched her.  Her breasts sagged a bit.  Heatherlyn didn't 
think they looked as good without a bra.  She placed her 
bra on the Concubine Couch along with her clothes, and then 
turned back to face him.

"Excellent!  Really excellent!" he said, stepping forward 
and grasping her breasts freely.  Now his flesh was truly 
in contact with hers.  No boyfriend had ever touched 
Heatherlyn like this.  They'd been more respectful of her 
shyness.  This man felt her breasts possessively, as if 
they were playthings belonging to him.

He did all the things he'd done before, caressing the tops 
of her breasts, fingering them on the bottom.  He pinched 
her nipples, twisting them gently, and then a bit too hard.  
He plucked at them, and then his mouth was on Heatherlyn's 
left breast.  He sucked expertly, with is other hand 
plucked at her right nipple.

Heatherlyn was ashamed to feel aroused between her legs.  
She squeezed her thighs together secretly, trying to will 
herself to be dry there.  She knew that he was going to 
have her panties off next and she didn't want him to feel 
them wet.

He played with Heatherlyn's breasts for a good ten minutes.  
His face was closely shaved, not rough with stubble like 
her boyfriends' had been.  He was very good!  Heatherlyn 
sometimes played with her nipples when she was in the 
shower, or sometimes when she was in bed at night.  That 
always led to her playing down below, and he seemed to know 
that secret about her.

"Can you suck your own nipples?" he asked her suddenly.  He 
still had both his hands on her breasts, and both of her 
nipples were wet with his saliva.

"No," Heatherlyn said.

"Try it," he told her. 

Heatherlyn tried for him, but she couldn't do it.

"Let me see you play with them," he said, stepping back for 
a view.

Heatherlyn used her right hand to tease her left nipple, 
just like she did in the shower.  

"Use both hands," he said.

Heatherlyn took a nipple in each hand, plucking and 
twisting them.  She spread her fingers wide and rubbed them 
up and down across her nipples.  She felt like a stripper 
giving a show in a sleazy men's club.

"Keep doing that," he said.  He suddenly stepped forward 
and pulled Heatherlyn's panties down, dropping them to her 
ankles.

Heatherlyn stood there naked, playing with her nipples for 
him.  She was horrified to think of all this being captured 
on the security video camera.  She was going to have to 
erase the tape before she called the police.

He watched Heatherlyn's self-fondling for a while, walking 
around her body twice, just looking at her.  Her hips were 
narrow and sleek.  Her bottom was small and smooth.  

"I like your bush," he said, tangling his fingers in her 
pubic hair.  Her bush was lush, but bikini trimmed.

"Thank you," Heatherlyn said, not sure of what else to say.

"You're the most beautiful girl that I've ever seen naked," 
he said.  Suddenly he stepped to her and reached between 
her legs.  His fingers easily slid into Heatherlyn's 
arousal-soaked pussy.  No one except a doctor had ever 
touched Heatherlyn there before.  Nobody had ever touched 
her there sexually.

He stood intimately close, looking down at her nipples as 
she teased them.  He placed one hand on her rear end while 
two fingers of his other hand slid gently and rhythmically 
in and out of Heatherlyn's pussy until she squirmed with 
unconcealable arousal.

"What's the most times you've ever cum?" he asked, still 
finger fucking her.

"I . . . I'm a virgin," Heatherlyn confessed.

"Oh!" he said, delightedly.  His fingers began exploring 
her deeper.  "I mean what's the most times you've ever made 
yourself cum?"

When Heatherlyn didn't answer immediately, he began finger 
fucking her more quickly, bringing her very close to 
embarrassing climax.

"I . . . I . . . I don't know.  Maybe twice in one night?  
Maybe?" she gasped.  Heatherlyn was lying, and he knew it.  
He crouched down at her knees, finger-thrusting upward into 
her harder, making her spread her legs, which quivered near 
collapse.  His face was very close to her pussy, and his 
fingers were merciless in sex-milking her.

"Please," she begged, gasping.  "Please, I can't do this 
standing up.  I need to lean against something."

He stopped suddenly.  Wetness flowed down the insides of 
Heatherlyn's thighs.  She still cupped her breasts in her 
hands, but she'd stopped teasing her nipples.

"Lie down on that bed there," he told her, indicating the 
Concubine Bed.

"No, please," Heatherlyn pleaded, "It's a priceless museum 
piece.  There's a couch in the back office."

"Right here," he said, indicating the Concubine Couch 
again.  Then he picked up the Mammoth Phallus, which always 
rested on the Concubine Couch, and said, "and here we have 
the right thing for deflowering virgins."

"No, please," Heatherlyn pleaded again.  The Mammoth 
Phallus was enormous.  Carved from an elephant tusk, it 
weighed 16 pounds.  One end was shaped like a normal 
phallus, like a modern dildo vibrator, but slightly sharper 
at the tip, and instead of remaining slender it quickly 
became wider.  The other end was carved in an enormous 
ball, about the size of a large orange.  A museum plaque 
said that the small end was used to prepare virgin 
concubines--and the large end was used to punish concubines 
who earned displeasure.

"Please," Heatherlyn pleaded, "that will hurt me.  Do it . 
. . do it to me . . . like a boyfriend.  Please!"

"Take your place on the bed, and we'll negotiate," he said.

Heatherlyn stepped out of her sandals, and her fallen 
panties.  She gathered her clothes from the Concubine Couch 
and placed everything neatly on the floor.  Then, 
hesitantly, she climbed onto the couch.  Although hard, and 
carved everywhere in intricate and detailed love scenes, 
the finely crafted bed was very comfortable on Heatherlyn's 
nakeness.  This was what it was made for.

The couch was slightly arched, lifting Heatherlyn's head 
and feet just a little.  She quickly discovered that there 
were two positions of comfort for her legs in the couch's 
contours: spread widely, or with her knees up, and her feet 
in footrests.  Heatherlyn chose the legs-spread position.

Her captor was examining Heatherlyn directly between the 
legs, admiring the brilliant pink of her inner pussy, 
contrasting with the rich chocolate color of her inner 
thighs.  He spread her pussy lips with his fingertips for a 
more intimate look.

"What's the real most times you've ever made yourself cum?" 
he asked.  He face was so close that she felt the breath of 
his words enter her pussy.  He looked at the smaller end of 
the Mammoth Phallus as if judging its possible fit within 
Heatherlyn.

"I guess maybe four in one night," Heatherlyn confessed.

"Show me," he said quietly.

Heatherlyn put her right hand fingertip on her clitoris and 
began a gentle rubbing.  This was the most embarrassing 
thing she'd ever done.  She'd never imagined ever doing 
this while someone watched.  Her left-hand fingers found 
her right nipple.  She closed her eyes and began a 
familiar, twin rubbing. 

She was very ready because of what he'd done to her before.  
In just a few moments she was close to climax, but fear and 
embarrassment made it very hard for her to achieve orgasm.  
She rubbed frantically, her fingers just a blur to her 
watcher as they buzzed over her clit like the wings of a 
hummingbird.  

Heatherlyn began crying; tears streamed down her face.  Her 
body began bucking at the hips.  Her breasts, now lying 
saucered but still full on her ribcage, quivered, her one 
free nipple dancing in chocolate richness.  Suddenly her 
body wracked once, then twice more, falling quiet as a true 
orgasm moan escaped her mouth, followed my several more, 
quieter, after-moans.  Sex fragrance wafted from between 
Heatherlyn's legs while pussy juice flowed generously from 
her, running into the crack of her ass and shinning new 
luster on the old red lacquer of the Concubine Couch.

Heatherlyn lay quiet, feeling quite exhausted, and a little 
befuddled by sex confusion.  This was absolutely the 
sexiest thing she'd ever done, and she loved it, but she 
felt very ashamed.  

Her captor kissed her very tenderly on the mouth, and then 
on each of her nipples.

"That's one," he said.

"I, I can't do any more," Heatherlyn said, realizing his 
demand.

He lifted her legs, settling her feet in the footrests so 
that now she was exposed even more slut-like than before.

"Try again," he said.

"Please let me rest," Heatherlyn asked.

He lifted the Mammoth Phallus and rested it between her 
legs on the couch. 

Heatherlyn began rubbing her pussy in frantic compliance.  
This time he watched very closely, his head between her 
legs.  She didn't play with her nipples this time, simply 
letting them bounce freely.  It was not so hard to cum as 
she'd thought, and she did it without crying and with more 
moans.  

He didn't let her stop though, not at all.  He insisted 
upon more cums from her, and poor Heatherlyn had to finger 
fuck herself for his amusement because her clit was too 
sore to rub.   She finger fucked and finger fucked, and 
finally she came for a third time, stopping when she was 
done, because she simply could not continue.

"I want at least four from you," he said while she rested.  
He bowed his head between Heatherlyn's legs, and for the 
first time ever, she felt a tongue on her pussy.  Oh God 
that was powerful!  Heatherlyn's hips bucked, and he 
reached his arms around her legs and pulled her pelvis more 
into his face.  Oh what he was doing felt good!  Heatherlyn 
shamelessly spread her legs wider so that she could 
experience more.  Sometimes his tongue went into her open 
pussy, and sometimes it rasped across her clit.  Sometimes 
he bit her around the clit, and sometimes he sucked on it.  
Heatherlyn came at least three times for him like that, her 
hips captive in his face.  Sometimes she screamed, 
sometimes she moaned.  She was whimpering when she had her 
final cum.

"I love your taste," he said afterwards, wiping his face 
clean with his hands.  "You've a nice, musky fragrance and 
a good, viscous juice."

"Am I like other girls?" Heatherlyn couldn't help from 
asking.

"You're better--tastier.  I should make you fill some 
little vials for me to have later.  Just a minute!"  He 
reached into his back pocket and took out a white 
handkerchief, which he used to sop up pussy essence from 
between her legs.

"This way I can take your fragrance with me," he said.  
"You cum fantastic!  I'll bet you delight all your 
boyfriends."

"I don't have a boyfriend right now," Heatherlyn confessed.

"Oh that's right, you're a virgin," he said, exploring her 
pussy with one finger until she felt his fingertip touching 
her hymen.

"Now we're going to have to open you up," he said, picking 
up the Mammoth Phallus again.  "You were telling the truth 
about being a virgin, weren't you?"

"Please don't do it with that!" Heatherlyn pleaded again.  
"I've been good to you.  I've done everything you've 
asked."

"I can't leave you as a virgin," he said, reasonably, "What 
kind of rape would that be?"

"It doesn't have to be a rape," Heatherlyn said quickly.  
"Nobody has to know about this.  You're just my boyfriend--
if you don't do that to me.  Just, you know, do it like a 
boyfriend."

"Sorry Babe," he said, "but I'm dying to try this in you."

Heatherlyn tensed up as she felt the small end of the 
Mammoth Phallus enter her.  It slid in easily at first, a 
tool that was made for this purpose.  Then it came to a 
stop at her unbroken hymen.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

"Please don't, please don't" Heatherlyn said.

"Just relax yourself and enjoy becoming a woman," he said.

"Please don't, please don't. . . . Aaaahhh!"

There was a sharp pain as Heatherlyn lost her virginity to 
the tusk.  Then it was eased farther inside her, slowly.  
He twisted it, augering her out for sex.  The hundreds of 
delicate carvings that covered its surface learned 
Heatherlyn's insides thoroughly.  How many virgins had it 
been used on before, she wondered?  Dozens?  Hundreds?  It 
was a virgin taker, and now it had taken her.

His lips closed upon her clitoris again, making her climax 
yet again, with the virgin taker still inside her.  She 
knew that there must be blood mixed with her juices now, 
and like perhaps scores of lost virgins before her she was 
being made to wash it clean with her taken womanhood.

He took the tusk from Heatherlyn and played with her 
breasts while he let her rest.  How long had he been raping 
her now, she wondered?  Was all of this on the security 
tape?  She knew that she could never bear to let anybody 
see that.  

Oh YES he was good with breasts!  He certainly like to suck 
them, teethe around the nipples.  Heatherlyn could tell 
that he genuinely enjoyed feeling her breasts.  

"You like those, huh?" she asked.

"Oh yes, you're breasts are just perfect," he said, an 
answer that satisfied Heatherlyn shamefully.

"Are you ready to fuck?" he asked.  

The virgin taker, the Mammoth Phallus, was put aside now, 
and Heatherlyn was beginning to feel okay again.

"I don't have protection," Heatherlyn said.

"That's okay," he answered, "I want to make you pregnant."

Oh my God!  This is what Heatherlyn feared the most, and 
now she confessed to herself that she was scared of him 
being a white man.  Heatherlyn felt ashamed of her bigotry.  
It was awful to not want sex with someone just because of 
his skin color, but she didn't want to have a half-white 
baby.  She could never have an abortion.  It wouldn't be 
the baby's fault, but Heatherlyn liked her skin color and 
had always wanted a black husband, to give her babies that 
looked like her.

He undressed while she thought of this, and now he stood 
naked.  Heatherlyn didn't want to look at his cock, but 
knowing that it was going to be inside her compelled her to 
look.  It was not as big as some she'd seen, and of course 
it was very pink.  Heatherlyn wasn't used to seeing them 
that color.  It was a cock for making white babies.

He climbed onto the Concubine Couch with Heatherlyn.  
Knealing between her legs he looked down upon her naked 
body and began stroking his cock, making it ready.  He 
reached out with one hand and teased her right nipple.  

Don't have a baby, don't have a baby, Heatherlyn thought to 
herself as his cock entered her.  Don't have a baby, don't 
have a baby, don't have a baby.  She was trying to will 
herself not to get pregnant.  She tried not to cum.  She 
knew it was foolish, but she hoped that if she didn't 
orgasm during sex then maybe she wouldn't get pregnant.  
Don't have a baby, don't have a baby.

Heather came anyway.  Not like before, but very quietly and 
privately.  It felt very satisfying anyway.  Her orgasm 
took her by surprise, and she realized that it was a 
helpless female reaction to sex with a man.  He climaxed 
within her almost immediately afterward.  

Then Heatherlyn started crying.  She felt pregnant right 
away.  It was foolish, she knew, but she'd never had sex 
with a man before and had always believed that if she did 
she'd get pregnant.  She felt that God was going to punish 
her and give her a white rape baby because she'd enjoyed 
it.

He stayed on top of her afterward, stayed inside her.  "I 
want to be sure you're impregnated," he said.  

That started Heatherlyn crying aloud.  Then he tried to 
calm her by saying, "That's okay, that's okay.  You're not 
going to get pregnant.  You're still a virgin, because it 
was forced on you.  You'll be okay, you'll be okay.  You've 
been a brave girl and none of this is your fault."  He held 
Heatherlyn tenderly and spoke kindly to her for a long time 
until she stopped crying.

"Can I get dressed now too?" Heatherlyn asked while he was 
dressing.

"No," he said, "You still have to have a ride on the big 
end."

"No!" Heatherlyn shouted, now genuinely angry and her tears 
forgotten.  "I did everything you made me do.  I didn't 
fight back at all.  I gave you my virginity."  She knew 
that he meant to use the "punishment" end of the Mammoth 
Phallus on her.

"Look," he said, "I haven't really hurt you yet, have I?  
I'm not going to do anything that will injure you, but you 
don't have any choice in what you have to do."

None of Heatherlyn's pleaded helped her.  Her feet had to 
go into the footrests again, and the ball end of the 
Mammoth Phallus was pressed into the opening of her now 
very experienced pussy.

"Push, push," he said.  He made her help him.  "Spread your 
legs more."

It was very difficult, very painful, but the big end of the 
Mammoth Phallus finally entered Heatherlyn's pussy.  She 
felt absolutely ripped open.  And he kept pushing it deeper 
into her.  Once inside it moved fairly easily.  

Heatherlyn's whole body moved as the Mammoth Phallus 
plunged back and forth within her.  It felt enormous inside 
her.  She'd never imagined anything like this.  It was like 
having something rape her from the inside.  

It made Heatherlyn cum.  MADE her cum!  There was nothing 
voluntary about it this time.  And it kept demanding.  
Turned over onto all fours,  several more orgasms were 
wrenched involuntarily from Heatherlyn's pussy while her 
breasts shook beneath her.  The stranger's lovemaking had 
sometimes felt romantic, but this experience was pure rape.  

"I want to give you a pleasure you can't have by yourself," 
he said, by way of explanation when she demanded to know 
what she'd done to deserve this.  Heatherlyn shuddered as 
another orgasm was ripped from her.  How many was that now?  
Was this as many as a prostitute would have?

He left the Mammoth Phallus inside Heatherlyn.  He thanked 
her--actually thanked her--as if she'd been a good date.  
Then he left.  It took Heatherlyn an exhausting half hour 
to coax the Mammoth Phallus out of her.  Going in had been 
difficult, but at least there'd been two of them working on 
it.  Taking it out on her own proved very hard.

Heatherlyn wanted to rest--but not here.  She just wanted 
to go home and cry.  She didn't want to bother with police-
-she didn't even want anybody to know.  All she would have 
to do was to clean up the Mammoth Phallus and the Concubine 
Couch and erase the security tape, and then nobody would 
know.

She would do that as soon as she made sure the place was 
locked up.  She dressed hastily, conscious of the bareness 
of her breasts beneath her blouse now that she had no bra.  
He'd taken her underwear as "souvenirs."  

She found that he'd left her keys right near the front 
entrance, which she quickly locked.  But what if he was 
still here?  Heatherlyn knew she should call the police.  
She ran to her office and locked that door.  Now she just 
had to erase the security tape--

--but the security tape was missing.  He'd taken that too--
a souvenir that he could watch.  A rape that he could see 
Heatherlyn relive every night on his VCR.  

-end-

More stories by Philip Harris can be found on http://www.asstr.org/~pharris/.

