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 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 whiteslaving 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.R 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 inhouse 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