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Matilda Told Such Dreadful Lies
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)

***

Some schoolgirls get away with telling little fibs. 
Matilda didn't! (m+/f-yteens, nc, rp, drugs)

***

Well let's see, there was early in the piece, that day 
back in Grade 5 when the home-room teacher's handbag 
went missing and Matilda gave so graphic an account of 
having seen little Sue-Anne Thompson hovering around 
Miss Jamieson's desk before relegating the said item to 
her schoolbag, that no-one doubted Sue-Anne's guilt.

Of course when the missing item somewhat inconveniently 
tumbled out of Matilda's locker some three weeks later 
– in front of the passing assembly, whispers grew that 
maybe Matilda Benson wasn't necessarily the cute little 
Miss everyone thought she was. 

Her early teenage years were a maelstrom of deceptive 
cunning. "The Texta affair," where-in several 
classmates, found their homework submissions and class 
books defaced by broad black marking ink. Pointedly, 
none were exactly close friends of Matilda. The case 
remained unsolved but the rumor-mill had its 
suspicions. 

Then there was "The Case of the Disappearing Lunch-
money" in eighth grade. Again the victims were not 
aligned with Matilda's little clique, but it seemed to 
correspond with a period that the "suspect" turned up 
at school every second day with some new gadget or 
fashion accessory. 

"How could you even think it was me?" Matilda would 
smile sweetly, "As if..." The teachers at her new 
school believed her of course, to even suspect such a 
well-behaved and presentable young lady was madness.

It was "The Brinks Job" however, that finally brought 
her undone in year ten. Not only was Stephanie Brinks a 
popular girl, she just happened to be the Principal's 
daughter.

Planning is the cornerstone of any successful crime... 
or "lie" for that matter. The day Stephanie knocked 
Matilda off the number one class position for the 
second semester running – her fate was sealed. The fact 
that she had the hots for Rick Stevens, the class jock 
and line quarter-back had not escaped the notice of her 
peers. Unfortunately for her though, Rick had less 
interest in Stephanie than a hands-free cell-phone, 
although in Steph's mind it was just a case of youthful 
shyness on Rick's part. 

The letter was brilliantly crafted. An outpouring of 
love and teenage fantasy laced with not a little sexual 
flirtatiousness. Stephanie hugged herself as she read 
what she supposed to be Rick's heartfelt desires. "I 
knew it all along," she told her classmates proudly, 
displaying to all, the romantic epistle clutched to her 
undeniably well-proportioned bosom.

At the point Rick laughed in her face and told her he 
was not the author, Matilda's revenge was complete. 
Shamed, embarrassed, hurt and emotionally violated, 
Stephanie could but cry herself into submission.

"You think I wrote it Mr. Brinks," Matilda replied to 
the Principal's questioning, fake tears forming at the 
corner of her eyes. "I love Stephanie," she forced 
herself to say, "Whoever wrote that is a sick person 
Sir."

It was an impressive performance. Even given the 
circumstantial evidence available, the Principal felt 
he was right off track here. What was he thinking? 

It was just three days later that during a routine 
check-out of the school's closed-circuit security 
video, Mr. Brinks noticed a lone figure scooting across 
the hallway near the girls' lockers. It was timed at 
17.08 long after most everyone had left the premises. 

Backing the tape up and slowing to normal speed, he was 
astonished to see Matilda no less, obviously being 
highly vigilant and checking the corridors, approach 
the girl's lockers with something in her hand. Slipping 
the article with some difficulty beneath the metal 
door, she then left along the eastern corridor towards 
the main entrance. On zoom, the evidence was 
irrefutable, confirming it to be his daughter's locker 
and the object in Matilda's hand, clearly a small 
envelope. 

It was only a week earlier the school had secretly 
installed the new system.

Matilda's parents were summoned to the school office 
where both then watched dumbfounded as the 
incriminating images were replayed.

"Why sweetheart? Why did you do it?" her father asked. 
"Have we brought you up to behave like this?" 

Even in the face of indefensible guilt. Matilda was a 
class-act. Crying hysterically she told, between 
dramatic outpourings of remorse, of her shame and 
misery at being ousted from the top of the class. How 
she felt she had let her parents and teachers down and 
that completely without rational thought she had 
hatched the plan to get back at Stephanie. 

She could never face her friends again, she sobbed and 
then buried her head in her hands – truly a performance 
that would in other circumstances, have landed her the 
Oscar!

The Principal and her parents stared at each other. 
Just who is the victim here they were now wondering.

Acceptance of any offered apology goes only so far. In 
Stephanie's case not much further than her forced 
smile. Inside, it was still murder, death, kill!

It was obvious to all that Matilda was still a virgin, 
even at sixteen. It was obvious to Matilda too – she 
really had to do something about that. Stephanie it 
must be admitted, had the very solution in mind. After 
all, Matilda was the disease...she herself was the 
undoubted cure!

"I forgive you Matilda," Steph replied, in response to 
the other girl's declared apologies. "I suppose it was 
hard losing your position at top of the class after all 
that time," she added – the slightest hint of catty 
satisfaction in evidence. If Matilda noticed, she 
didn't show it.

"Look, I'm having my sixteenth birthday party this 
Saturday" she continued, "You wanna come over? We can 
like, kinda make-up and everything."

Although wondering why Steph appeared to be such a good 
sport, given the humiliation heaped upon her, she 
gladly agreed. After all, a couple of boys she really 
liked, she knew would be there.

"Ok Steph, thanks," she replied, hugging her. "I'm so 
glad we can be friends again."

"Oh, that's OK Matilda," Stephanie smiled at her, "I'm 
never one for holding a grudge. Life's too short, 
right?"

It might at this juncture be appropriate to describe 
Matilda in detail. An extraordinarily pretty girl, slim 
and standing no more than five-three, weighing probably 
less than a hundred and twenty pounds. Fair hair that, 
brushed out, cascaded to the onset of her decidedly 
shapely and compact little bottom. Somewhat rounded 
face that proclaimed both youth and innocence. 

She didn't even look her sixteen years and two months. 
Hazel eyes that sat beneath long lashes accentuated her 
appeal and if that snub little nose wasn't as cute a 
feature as one could wish for in that blemish-free 
visage – her delicate shaped ears were. It was a face 
you would want to kiss first and ask permission later. 
A few had done just that!

From upper middle-class origins, she dressed 
accordingly. Always neatly attired, even her sports 
uniforms were all creaseless and perfectly fitting. She 
had tried-out for the cheer-squad but although 
accepted, felt ultimately the status of such beneath 
her, and had declined further involvement.

As she sat there on her bed that Saturday afternoon, 
wondering just what she should wear to Stephanie's 
party, she decided that maybe she should go with the 
"hot little girl" look rather than her usual "Yes I'm 
cute, but don't come near me" dress sense. Fact is, she 
did want someone to come near her!

Accordingly, the skirt was shorter, the top cut lower 
and the make-up just a tad on the garish side. She even 
slipped on a g-string knowing that most teenage boys 
found them a turn-on... not that she was planning on 
letting any of them see that far up her skirt. The main 
idea was to make her feel sexier.

The party had been in full swing for almost an hour by 
the time her father dropped her off, insisting that he 
pick her up no later than 10.30 p.m. 

"Hi there Matilda," Stephanie said, opening the front 
door. "Hmmm you look really hot," she mused, ushering 
her in to the lounge-room where she recognised pretty 
much all her school-friends as well as many others. 
Even Rick and his entourage were over the far side of 
the room she noticed. This had distinct possibilities!

Stephanie thrust a tall glass into her hand. "Daddy's 
Champagne," she giggled. "He's never going to miss a 
bottle or three from his cellar." 

With no great track-record as a drinker, Matilda 
nevertheless did like the odd glass of sparkling 
effervescence. It being a party besides, she intended 
to enjoy herself. By the second glass she was certainly 
doing that, having danced with a couple of boys – a 
couple of girls too if the truth be known.

"Hey Matty," Stephanie called out to her from across 
the room. She hated that nick-name but being lightly 
inebriated as well as unaccountably drowsy, took it on 
board without complaint. 

"Come upstairs with me for a minute Matilda," she was 
saying, "I want you to tell me what you think of two 
new dresses my mom bought me." Sipping the remnants of 
her champagne, she wandered after Stephanie who had 
almost reached the staircase just down the hallway. She 
was finding it increasingly difficult to navigate the 
stairs, almost slipping at one stage.

"Gosh Matilda, you're a cheap drunk," Steph laughed at 
her from the landing, "Better lay off the hard stuff 
for a while maybe?"

Stephanie's bedroom was just a little along the upper 
hallway to the left. Following her school-friend in 
there, she noticed that aside from a bedside light that 
was on, it wasn't overly well-lit. The room was 
dominated by a double bed that in other circumstances, 
she might have found odd.

It was then that movement behind her, betrayed the 
presence of other persons. She was momentarily 
confused.

"Speaking of hard-stuff Matilda," Stephanie was saying, 
"There's plenty of that here I'd be guessing. Enjoy 
yourself. I always figured that one good turn deserves 
another you stupid little bitch." 

So saying, she flounced out of the door closing it 
behind her. She heard the lock turned. Dizzy and almost 
without control of her faculties she watched helplessly 
as the shadowy figures encircled her.

"Whoa, is this one hot little tease or what?" muttered 
one of the boys, shepherding her inevitably towards the 
bed. Another shoved her backwards and losing her 
balance she fell lengthways on the covers. In seconds 
they had her in the center of the bed... there must 
have been at least six of them she sensed, her 
awareness badly affected now by the Rohpynol. 

Hands fondled her breasts through her top as tears swam 
before her eyes. She felt others pushing her skirt up. 
Try as she might she could not co-ordinate any 
resistance. 

"Matilda in a g-string? ya gotta be kidding me?" 
exclaimed one youngster, sufficiently inebriated 
himself, to have no qualms now about rubbing her pussy 
through the sheer material. Two other boys held her 
legs apart and the young girl's shame was complete as 
fingers slipped beneath her panties, lustfully seeking 
her vaginal opening. 

She felt her top being roughly pulled up and at the 
point someone forcefully snapped her bra at the front, 
exposing her rather small but well rounded breasts, she 
gasped in fully embarrassed misery. 

"Sexy little tits," chorused a couple of actively-
inclined gropers, having excessive fun pulling and 
manipulating her nipples. Had the young girl's overall 
awareness been greater, she might have realised the 
degree in which those hot little teats were responding 
to their illicit treatment. As it was though, 
everything was little more than a blur right now.

As the fondling and fingering reached its zenith, all 
Matilda could do was let it happen. She knew she was 
crying unrestrainedly but individually she could barely 
distinguish between a finger up her pussy and others 
queued-up to penetrate her anal delights. Face after 
face was kissing her and she knew her breasts were 
being sucked by rotation. 

With the understandably rising group lust, she felt her 
thong ripped off and then a familiar voice was inclined 
towards her.

"You figured you could use my name you little cunt, 
when you wrote that shit to Stephanie. Big mistake 
slut, now spread your fucking legs." 

Rick had no need to issue such instructions, as right 
that moment two of his football mates pulled her legs 
so wide, Matilda let out a cry of shock.

Rohpynol dulls the senses and limits reactionary 
activity. It doesn't necessarily aid the natural 
enjoyment or anticipated pleasures of sex or even 
lessen one's resolve not to participate in such. All 
that can be said in her favor, is that the continuous 
digital probing over the previous twenty minutes had 
most assuredly made Matilda wetter in all the right 
places – and she probably didn't even realise.

Any way you cut it though, she was still a virgin – 
well, up to the point that Rick knelt there between her 
legs and thrust up hard into her, consigning her hymen 
to ancient history and her innocence to the recesses of 
recent memory.

Drugged or not, she screamed...loud enough for 
Stephanie downstairs to smile to herself in revengeful 
satisfaction. It was one time she would like to have 
been a boy herself! 

Watching Matilda's carnal rape was way too much for 
three other boys who knelt there wanking themselves 
stupid as Rick progressed along the firing line. Dimly, 
the young girl was aware of a sudden stream of warm 
sticky stuff falling across her breasts while another 
stream caught her flush on the left cheek. 

The sight certainly spurred Rick on to greater things 
and he found himself gripped most pleasantly by a force 
of nature that knew no limits. Jerking quite 
involuntarily, he spurted what felt like several litres 
of inter-personal fluids way up inside that seethingly 
hot vaginal orifice, framed as it was by the girl's 
neat and fully natural little triangle of light 
brownish curls. Rape had never looked more arousing!

"You're up Steve," Rick muttered, zipping himself up 
and making way for his 2IC. 

Steve had little in the way of class, or social 
etiquette come to that. What he did have was a big cock 
though. Wavering between awareness and catatonic 
displacement, Matilda was most certainly privy to her 
pussy suddenly being invaded by an outsize battering 
ram. Spreading her legs further was in fact the only 
way of lessening the pain. 

Unfortunately Steve took this as a sign that his modus 
operendi was pleasuring the teenager and rammed it up 
her with increased gusto. A significant amount of blood 
had at this stage stained the coverlet and which if 
anything, catalysed Steve and the four subsequent 
rapists, to delve further into the sacrificial 
tabernacle.

At no stage was the naked girl attended by any less 
than three boys at once, all of whom continued to 
grope, fondle or otherwise abuse her vulnerable little 
body. She vaguely felt her hands seized and forced 
inside various sets of underpants where after a while, 
even three-quarters out of it, she accepted her role as 
enforced masturbator. Given everything else they were 
doing to her, it hardly mattered.

By the time the sixth boy handed over his boarding 
pass, she was a mess. Had she been more conscious – 
probably beyond emotional salvation too. Her labia were 
sore and swollen badly, leaking semen by the cupful. 
Her body was streaked with cum as was her face and 
hair. Looking at her breasts, covered now in so many 
fingermarks, one could be forgiven for thinking she had 
been molested by a posse of apprenticed paedophiles.

Just as the last boy fucked the young girl to the edge 
of consciousness. They key turned in the lock and 
Stephanie walked in. What she saw on the bed initially 
made her blanche even.

"Oh my God Rick, " she whispered, You have had fun!" 

Holding her hands now between her legs, cupping her 
abused genitalia and once more sobbing uncontrollably, 
she was aware of Stephanie leaning over her. The 
effects of the Rohpynol were marginally wearing off.

"How ya feeling chicky-babe?" Steph taunted her. "Bit 
sore? Well ain't that too bad? Maybe next time now 
you'll think before trying to pull a stunt like that 
again?" The boys, zipped-up once more, were filing out 
behind her. Some looked in almost as bad condition as 
Matilda herself.

"By the way Matty," she continued, "Don't bother 
reporting this to the Police either. Everyone here will 
give evidence you were acting like a slut downstairs 
and that you went up to the bedroom with them 
willingly. Bad luck if you're pregnant too – wish I 
could hear you explain that to your dad!"

Her head spinning and her every muscle aching it 
seemed, she tried to sit up. She gasped as yet more 
semen flooded the bed.

"Oh, by the way Matty dear," Stephanie turned around on 
her way to the hall. "Have you met Kirsty and Anna from 
twelfth grade?" She ushered the two girls forward from 
the doorway. Way taller and considerably larger-framed 
than Matilda, they sat themselves down either side of 
her. Kirsty placed her hand on the young girl's thigh. 
Anna looked on approvingly.

"What can I say?" Stephanie continued, "They just have 
this thing for pretty young girls? Enjoy sweetie!"

As the door closed behind her, Anna pulled something 
out of her bag.

Now if you thought Steve was big??


(c) Peter_Pan http://www.lulu.com/content/106537

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 38