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As soon as you're through, she whispered to him. The food can wait. Lets go now. There were pointed coughs from the other guys, though a glare of mock daggers from Tim made them taper off. The cool autumn air that hit her as they stepped outside reminded her of how hot the inside of the restaurant was. They walked on for a few seconds in complete silence, Lydia not sure how she was supposed to proceed. The streets were mostly deserted, save for the occasional sprinting cat, drunk dog (yes, drunk dog) and homeless stray. See the stars, Tim whispered in her ears, making her jump slightly. They form the letter L tonight. Lydia glanced dubiously at the sky, not finding said pattern. I don't think we're looking the same sky. He gasped in mock outrage. You mean, you can't see it?

She gave him a skeptical look. Is this another of those tactics that you boys use to try and impress girls? You should know that things like this is why I haven't...No! Tim protested. Its just that, you've been on my mind lately, so maybe that's why I'm seeing you everywhere I go. She retained the look. Come on, Lydia. There seemed to be genuine hurt in his eyes. You know I'm not like that. Lydia frowned at him. Now that you mention it, I realize that I know next to nothing about you. Except that your name is Timothy, and you're a blacksmith/therapist.

Lets start from there. Come, he said instead. I have something to show you. They had only taken three turns when Lydia realized where they were headed: the smithy. Being a small village, they arrived there in no time at all and Tim unlocked the door, ushering her inside. It was surprisingly cool; she had only been there during the day, and had no idea the heat could ever disappear. The main product there was knives and other cutlery, which was reasonable since they had little use for swords and other weapons. There were knives of all sizes and shapes, ranging from the smallest butter knife to one that looked like a near relative of a meat cleaver, except a buffalo had cause to fear this one.

Close your eyes, Lydia. And turn around. Her heart began push-ups, but she obeyed. She felt her hair being pushed aside, and something cool came to rest between her breasts. Then his warm hands behind her neck. He turned her around, and she opened her eyes to see that it was a gold necklace set with a purple stone on the pendant and intricate inscriptions all around the setting. She was at a loss of words. The stone is amethyst. A precious stone, just like you. It seemed to reflect the light in some strange way, but Lydia paid no attention to that. I never knew I was a stone, she whispered. I didn't mean....oh I'm just teasing you, she chuckled, lifting it for a closer look. Its beautiful. Where did you get it? He was also looking at it, and she knew he has a gorgeous view of her creamy swells, but for some reason she didn't seem to mind. The stone's beauty had her hypnotized.

It's a family heirloom. The males give it to the people who are special to them. My father to my mother, and me to you. She looked up in surprise, but his lips silenced her. Unconsciously, she opened her mouth to the kiss, and when she felt his tongue slip into her mouth, she moaned. Then his hands began creeping up until they were rubbing the underside of her breasts. A voice of caution screamed somewhere in her head, but the passion strangled it. Taking her lack of no for a yes, the hand came up further to cup the entire breast. She froze for a second, but then it was feeling so good that she decided not to stop him. He lifted her to sit on a table, and continued for a few minutes. Wetness began flooding between her legs as she felt his hands go around her, seeking for the zipper of her dress.
The voice of caution won free of the passion's headlock, screaming like a banshee in her head, and she pushed him away. What? why? He looked surprised and was breathing heavily, with a huge tent in front of his pants. The passion wanted to raise her curiosity as an ally, but the caution smacked it upside the head, gave it a smack-down and pinned it.

I've never... I've never done this before, she panted. Neither have I, but it'll be fun. Come on! He attempted to pull her close, but she pushed him away. She was fairly certain he was lying with that first statement; his hands were too sure for a novice's. What I meant to say, she said slowly. “Is that I am not yet ready. He looked at her like she'd just announced she was from Mars. What do you mean, sweet? No one is ever ready. You just have to take the leap. She shook her head. Not tonight, Tim. His expression changed. So now what? You go on being the only virgin left in this fucking town? Is that a crime? She retorted. And how could you be possibly sure that I'm the only one left? He sighed. It was a figure of speech, Lydia. Now come on, sweet, dont leave me hanging like this. I'm sorry, Tim. But I really can't do this. He sneered at her. Can't? Or wont?
Her heart just about stopped at the expression on his face, and the voice of caution screamed for
her to get out of there, as fast as possible. The stupid passion had been the first to follow that advice. Its getting late. I need to be on my way. Then she made a mistake. She turned her back to him. He grabbed her from behind, and his palm covered her mouth in a steel like grip. You know, given your reputation, it was fairly easy to lure you in here. But none of the girls I ever brought in here got to walk out right. Shit, she thought, no wonder half the girls who attended his therapy classes always came back for more counseling while the other half never.

Timothy therapist. Timothy the rapist. Shit! Shit! Shit! Something poked her lower back, and it felt really enormous. She drew a breath, and unleashed the loudest scream her larynx could produce. But against his palm, it sounded like any other scream would; muffed. He reached for the front of her dress and yanked savagely, leaving her in her slip. Then he reached for that too, and when the dress has been torn who is the slip to resist?
Ooooh! He breathed in her ear as he bared her breasts to the firelight. He lifted one and squeezed. I've travelled miles to see this, and they are truly magnifcient. Plus, I get to be the first man to see them. Lucky me. That was when the true enormity of the situation hit her. She was about to be raped.

The panic rushed in, and she began trashing around in an attempt to escape his embrace, but he captured one of her nipples between his fingers and squeezed, hard. The searing pain forged a path through the fog of panic, and some semblance of clarity set in. Stories flooded into her mind of rape victims being wounded, sometimes mortally, in order to ensure their cooperation. She went limp, and began sobbing.
Shhh! He whispered in her ear. Don't cry now, sweet. I'm sorry if I hurt you. She sniffed. But ( hiccup) I'm scared. Don't be, sweet, he cooed, rubbing her nipples. It's only the initial penetration that hurts. After that comes the pleasure. She pretended to bawl for a little while, though the terror was not hard to feign. Then Can Can I please see it?
See what? Your... She blushed convincingly. Your penis. He frowned at her suspiciously, but the lust apparently won over the caution. Okay, but you must promise not to scream or try to run. I've locked the door, and I would really hate to have to hurt you. She nodded, and he released her to undo his belt buckle. She needed no pretense to gasp when his pants dropped. It looked like he had managed to somehow sew a rigid, one-eyed, reptilian monster to his crotch. And Chloe had loved this thing? Touch it. It seemed the only thing she'd use to willingly touch it was a rake. But as a painful necessity, she reached out and grabbed it lightly. It was both hard and soft at the same time, and hot to the touch. It nodded, seeming to salute her touch, and her hand slipped along its length. Ohhh! He moaned, closing his eyes. Your hands are so soft. Keep doing that, sweet. Like hell she would. Lydia steeled all her nerves, most importantly her gag reflex, grasped more of it including his balls for a firmer grip, and yanked upward with all her might.

Timothy's eyes flew open and his mouth too in a silent scream, or maybe at a frequency too high for the human ear to register, and he sank to his knees. Not wanting to take any chances, she reached for the first tool she could find, a piece of scrap whatever about as thick as her arm, and smacked him on the side of the head. He folded like paper. Quickly, she searched his pockets for the keys, rearranged herself as best as she could and, tears streaming down her face, ran out of the smithy.

That was where she made another mistake. Rather than run back home, she, in a bid to avoid the customers that she knew would still be milling around and also Chloe's I-told-you-so, ran in the opposite direction. Towards the village outskirt. She ran until she couldn't even stand anymore, and sank under a tree to cry out her eyes. The only witnesses to her misery were the stars who, in a twisted irony, now formed a letter L. The only warning she got before the chloroform soaked rag covered her face was the sense of foreboding that things were about to get much worse.

Written by Jimmy Arnis.
Edited by iX.

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  1. Beautiful... Just Beautiful. Extremely Graphic and pictoral ...

  2. Nice one man

  3. This is just awesome!!! to the extreme and beyond!

    this Jimmy Arnis guy is really a genius with the pen. I double dab my hat for him.. Guess its high time i met him and scream this out loud to his hears!!!! - Arnis, My blog is so available to publsh your amazing piece of art!!!.. Even if i have to beg for it.. #TheIx9 great work you guys are doing here.