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Compulsion
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)

***

A young man of immeasurably low esteem, sees rape as 
his only chance of sexual fulfillment. (Mf-teens, nc, 
rp, chloroform)

***

Luke Randall wasn’t exactly what you’d call a good-
looking guy, not even half-ways worthy of a second 
glance from a girl’s viewpoint. In fact as far as that 
was concerned, there weren’t any girls in Trinity, 
Idaho had gotten as far as even HAVING a viewpoint as 
to Luke’s particular existence.

Now twenty, he had somehow completed his education at 
Westmore High, his grades having been no more 
impressive than his peer-ranking. Perhaps his science 
lecturer had nailed it succinctly when he wrote on 
Luke’s essay "Atomic Fission: The Post War Challenges" 
... "Luke, if you ever find yourself within the 
proximity of a nuclear reactor – don’t touch anything!"

Five-nine at a stretch, dark lanky hair that defied any 
particular style. It simply grew! More than his share 
of acne and with a dress sense that ranked somewhere 
between white trailer-trash and Dennis Hopper mid 
adolescence. 

It wasn’t as if he had the opportunity to excel in 
sport. He could neither wield a baseball bat or cut it 
as a line-back. Not that he was especially weak, simply 
uncoordinated as all hell. Thus, with basically no 
friends, no future and less than no self-esteem, you 
can understand Luke’s resentment at having been born.

Life at home was little better. The youngest of three 
children, his two sisters being several year’s older, 
Luke himself was an unplanned and in his view unwanted 
addition. His father, a retired welding contractor, had 
no interest in anything much beyond keeping an eye on 
the beer stocks in the fridge. Parenthood had simply 
been a rude interruption to his life-style. He knew 
he’d had a son but would have needed prompting to 
describe him.

Luke’s mother, one might kindly refer to as a faded 
beauty, but then one would really be lying. A mousey 
blonde, her best days were long behind her at sixteen, 
not that this would have been a problem for Luke’s 
father, whose eyes rarely strayed between the neck and 
knees of any girl... then or now.

But Luke had one friend, two if you include his 
driver’s license! She was his ideal companion. 
Uncomplaining, she accompanied him everywhere. He would 
even stay-up nights just looking at her, the fading 
sunlight reflecting off her shapely rear-end as she sat 
there on the grass resplendent in all her finery. 

Almost eighteen-foot long give or take an over-rider, 
that gold ’69 Buick Electra hard-top was Luke’s 
greatest, if not only joy. He had nursed her though 
ill-health, spent most every dollar he had earned from 
part-time work on her betterment and she had repaid him 
handsomely by way of unshakeable loyalty and 
reliability. He loved her, but now she had to help him.

He had never actively pursued the opposite sex at High 
school. Partly from fear of rejection, partly fear of 
acceptance, but principally, in recognition of his 
limited social standing. Definitely from the wrong end 
of town for the sort of girl he dreamed about. 

The hormones had kicked-in on time but the call had 
never been answered. Between them, Hugh Hefner, Bob 
Guccione and Larry Flynt had only been able to offer 
temporary stapled relief and anyway, silicone implants 
really weren’t the sexual panacea Luke was looking for. 
He wanted a cute and loving little home-town girl, no 
manufactured blonde fantasy hot off the bench-press.

Within striking distance of twenty-one now, his craving 
for youthful female company had reached critical mass. 
There was only so much solace to be derived from cyber-
porn, and the old standby - his trusty bar of soap.

At the car-wash where he held down a casual job, there 
were a couple of girls in the office. One he had 
summoned-up the courage to ask out – before she cut him 
dead with the needlessly hurtful reply. "No offense 
Luke, but go look in the mirror – I do have a 
reputation to look after y’know!" Kristy the other 
girl, already had a full-time boyfriend who just 
happened to be the star pitcher for the State League 
team. 

Loneliness gave way to despair, desire to unfettered 
sexual imagery. He began imagining what it would be 
like to have a lover, one who would accede to his every 
whim unquestioningly. His orgasms became stronger and 
more prolonged, in direct proportion to his evolving 
dark fantasies. 

He began spending more time in his room, a converted 
garage at the rear of the property, alongside which his 
father had helped him build a corrugated iron car-port 
to house the Buick. The arrangement suited the entire 
family. No-one need ever be expected to more than 
simply acknowledge the other’s existence.

With seemingly no likelihood of ever being able to 
engender a normal heterosexual relationship, Luke began 
reading true-life rape tales. Whether or not they were 
in fact kosher really didn’t matter to him. Just the 
thought of having that awesome power over a young and 
innocent girl, filled him with longing. He began to see 
it as his destiny. Payback of sorts for all those years 
of put-downs and snide comments. 

He began cruising local schools, just watching the 
girls as they left for the afternoon. Just the way they 
would giggle, hold hands, toss their hair back and 
every other little affected girlish mannerism, he 
missed no detail. He began to imagine some of them back 
in his room, hot for his caress and offering little 
resistance to his intemperate needs.

Implementing a plan however was another question. He 
could hardly cruise-on down to the school gates mid-
afternoon, parents and relatives offering clustered 
protection and especially in a car which just about 
every second resident of Trinity would recognise two 
hundred yards distant. No, he would need to think this 
one through.

Night meant increased safety, while at the same time 
virtually eliminating opportunity. What school-girls 
would be walking around town unaccompanied after dark? 
For sure, none that he would be interested in! He 
figured he owed it to himself at least to go check-out 
the scene that evening.

The mere reality of his being on-site, "prowling" the 
sidewalks that night sent a hot flush through him. A 
predator-come-lately perhaps but at least he was 
"doing," not "dreaming." He had parked the car in a 
dark back-street just off the main drag, yet five 
minutes walk from the center of town. 

Not that Trinity had what you could call a "Town 
Center" as such, just Union Park with its Council 
chambers and old stucco Town Hall which rather like 
Trinity itself, had long since seen better days. A 
light breeze induced some brief motion in the flag atop 
the Court House fronting the main entrance to the Park 
and through which one or two people were obviously 
about to take their evening constitutional.

A young couple strolled past Luke as he stood just 
inside the doorway of Al’s Diner that had been forced 
to close the previous month, having been several weeks 
behind on the rent. Their happy chatter and the loving 
expression on the girl’s face as she clutched the man’s 
hand as they passed, angered him momentarily.

He walked towards the eastern boundary of the park now, 
crossing Marriot Boulevarde at the lights. Two girls in 
a black Saab convertible screeched to a halt. Eminem 
was emphasising the depth and resonance of the car’s 
sound system insisting "Two trailer-park girls walk 
round the outside, round the outside, round the 
outside..."  The girls stared at Luke and the one 
driver’s side called out to him, "Wot you lookin’ at 
dickhead?" They accelerated off before he could reply, 
leaving him little but the use of his middle finger. 

"Couple of hoes," he thought to himself. He wasn’t far 
wrong either.

He walked for twenty minutes or so, not with any 
particular plan, just checking the lie of the land as 
it were. As he crossed to the corner of Third Avenue, 
"Brent’s Alnite Drugstore" loomed large, a shimmering 
beacon of blue neon light that illuminated an area at 
least fifteen feet across the sidewalk and onto Marriot 
Boulevarde itself. Standing at the shop’s entrance, 
Luke caught the not unpleasant odour of pharmaceutical 
and medical preparations, toiletries and allied 
drugstore supplies. A thought came to him. At the 
counter he was surprised just how easily he had ordered 
it. 

"A small bottle of chloroform please," he had 
requested.

When asked if it was for him, he simply replied that he 
was just getting it for his mother and that he didn’t 
know what she needed it for. He was most convincing and 
the pharmacist handed it over with no fuss.

Aside from a few girls in small groups leaving the 
theater, there didn’t appear to Luke to be too many 
opportunities presenting themselves. He foresaw that it 
would be much the same any night and manic depression 
began to overwhelm him once more. 

He didn’t want to go home already as it was only a 
quarter after nine and all that awaited him there was a 
pile of stained magazines, fuzzy video cartridges and 
wall to wall loneliness. He decided that hunched-up in 
the corner of Rick’s Charcoal Chicken Basement with a 
hot coffee and a ham on rye was probably as good as 
anything else on the horizon.

The caffeine coursed through his venal system – shame 
the rye was yesterday’s. Luke sat there sullenly, 
watching customers play out their seemingly happy 
lives, purely at the expense of his escalating torment, 
he figured.

At that moment a young girl with a back-pack stepped 
through the entranceway, sending the plastic strips 
into temporary confusion. She looked very unhappy but 
walked up to the counter and ordered a Coke and a 
sandwich. Luke watched as she sat down with her back to 
him just a couple of alcoves up, shuffling her tray 
around nervously as if deciding whether to eat or drink 
first. From what he had seen, she was rather pretty.

The girl had fairly long light-brown hair, shining and 
obviously well-cared for. Prettily swept back into a 
ponytail, it was held in place by a piece of dark-green 
ribbon that contrasted sharply with the caramel colored 
top she had on. Her short dark skirt accentuated both 
her youth and the slender perfection of her legs. He 
wished he could see her face again.

As he watched, she seemed distracted and put down the 
Coke. The sandwich he noticed, she had barely touched. 
As she lowered her head, he heard her begin sobbing as 
she covered her face with her hands. By no means 
hysterical crying, she was gripped obviously by some 
deep personal misery. 

This was a situation outside Luke’s experience. Most 
any situation was come to that! Something about the 
girl’s immediacy touched Luke and as no-one else seemed 
to be paying her much heed. An older couple two tables 
up turned and glanced at her before continuing on with 
their conversation. He got up and walked towards her.

"Excuse me Miss," he said standing alongside her table 
somewhat awkwardly, "Are you OK?"

She glanced up at him, evidently surprised by his 
presence. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by the 
intrusion.

"Yes, I-I’m fine thank you," she lied. "Just got a few 
problems, but thanks for asking. I’ll be fine." She 
dabbed her eyes with a serviette and Luke found himself 
staring at point-blank range at the prettiest of 
little-girl faces. Even tear-filled, her blue eyes were 
enough to melt his heart. Beautiful soft features, 
cutest little turned-up nose set between smooth cheeks 
with all the flush of youth. 

At her temples, strands of brown hair curled into 
little feathery bangs just overlapping the tops of her 
small but clearly defined ear-lobes. She wore tiny 
golden ear studs, that for a moment reminded him of the 
Electra. Most appealing though was her mouth. Intensely 
kissable and lightly glossed lips that curved 
delicately upwards just enough to let you know that 
here was mother nature truly unplugged, a rare example 
of female genetic perfection.

Luke gulped. "Want to tell me what’s wrong Miss?" he 
managed somehow to get out.

She looked at him for a moment, instinctively aware of 
his social discomfort.

"Look, its nothing really, just a few issues at home," 
she replied.

"C-could I sit with you for a minute?" he asked, hardly 
daring that she would ever acquiesce. "My name’s Luke 
by the way," he added hopefully.

Inviting him to sit down, she told him her name was 
Ashley. He learned that she was sixteen and attended St 
Angelus College, an expensive private educational 
facility in the northern and far newer sector of 
Trinity. When she predictably asked where he lived, he 
felt a flush of embarrassment, telling her simply, "Oh, 
just near the rail terminus," but she didn’t seem to 
make any adverse connections.

The "issues" she mentioned earlier proved to be 
stubborn parents that she felt were denying her, her 
freedom. Specifically, a father who refusing to admit 
to himself that his daughter was barely a child any 
longer, would not allowed her to go out to a rock 
concert with other girlfriends. She told him she had 
just walked out of the house that evening in anger as 
she had been given free tickets and it was something 
she was really looking forward to.

All the time she was speaking, he was gazing at her and 
wondering if this was simply God indulging himself in 
another round of humor at Luke’s expense. Tempting him 
beyond the boundaries of sanity with the presence of 
this exquisitely beautiful young girl. 

"Have a good look son, it’s as close as you’re ever 
gonna get!"

An unheralded vision of her tied-up helpless on his bed 
brought a blush to his cheeks. He looked away 
momentarily. He felt the small bottle in his trouser 
pocket and immediately rebuked himself for the images 
it brought.

"Well Luke," she said, "I suppose I’d better be getting 
home. I’ve never ‘run away’ before... even if it was 
only for an hour or so! My dad will be looking for me 
soon coz I switched my cell off."

On impulse, he said to her.

"Well hey Ashley, I have a car just round the corner. 
Let me take you back, you can’t walk home alone this 
time of night." Then, as an afterthought, "It’s OK... 
I’m pretty safe!"

She smiled at him.

"Sure it’s not out of your way?"

"Yeah, like at least ten minutes," he replied in a 
mock-inconvenienced tone.

She gathered up her back-pack and they left Rick’s 
Charcoal Chicken.

Luke’s mind was in hyperdrive as they walked to his 
car. He knew she would never, could never, go out with 
him. This was the only opportunity he could ever see 
himself as having. She was the girl over and above any 
that he had fantasisied about and if he was to do it... 
this was the moment. Still chatting to her idly, he 
slowly retrieved the small bottle from his pocket.

"Whoa!" she said when they reached the Buick. "Is this 
really your car?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I’ve had her for a couple of 
years. Bit heavy on gas, but she’s a dream to ride in."

"Really cool car Luke," she said. "I love it."

Opening the passenger’s side door for her, he ushered 
her in. The glow from the courtesy light permitted Luke 
a momentary glance of her skirt riding up her thighs as 
she sat down. Being a really warm night, he had her 
lower all four windows from the central console."

"Just have to get my bag out of the trunk Ashley, hold 
on a sec." He glanced around the darkened street... not 
a person in sight.

He almost dropped the tiny bottle in his haste. He 
hadn’t realised it until that instant, but the 
adrenalin-rush had imbued his body with a fit of 
shaking. Retrieving a small cloth he kept near the 
spare tire, he quickly unscrewed the bottle and poured 
several drops of fluid on to the rag, soaking the 
center part, while keeping it at arm’s length and being 
careful not to breathe more than necessary. He hadn’t 
been thirty seconds.

"Ready now," he called to her. A last glance around 
revealed no newcomers to the street.

In two steps he was beside her. Clamping the cloth 
tightly across her mouth she struggled immediately of 
course, trying desperately to force his arm away. She 
beat at it, but to no avail. The car being pillarless, 
he was able to hold her tightly against the seat and in 
a matter of seconds the chloroform took hold, her 
struggles subsided and she yielded no further 
resistance. 

He let her breathe the fumes for just a couple of 
seconds more to ensure she was deeply under. He then 
tossed the rag back in the trunk, climbed into the 
driver’s seat and buckled up. She looked for all the 
world like a sleeping girlfriend.

Driving straight into his carport, he knew no-one would 
be outside. His father would either be watching TV or 
getting drunk... hopefully both. His mother if she was 
home, and not at a friend’s place as usual, would be in 
bed by now and asleep. Both sisters had moved out long 
ago.

The stillness of the night contrasted to that of his 
heartbeat as he got out and retrieved the key from its 
customary place over the door lintel. Leaving the 
front-door ajar he returned to the Buick where Ashley 
still lay unmoving across the seat that he had set to 
the maximum lay-back position. 

By moonlight, she looked to him an angel at rest. Just 
for an instant as he moved her, the light reflected off 
the little pendant that hung around her neck, murdering 
his conscience, imperiling his very soul.

She was so light, her arms hanging loose by her side as 
he carried her inside quickly. As he entered the 
solitary little room, he tried to imagine if this was 
what it felt like carrying one’s bride across the 
threshold. The young girl’s breasts were clearly 
accentuated now given her limp and vulnerable position. 
He lay her gently down on his bed and hurriedly 
returned to the trunk to fetch the chloroform bottle 
should he need it.

He saw the room so differently suddenly. Its 
shortcomings were underscored by her very presence. His 
bed now, looked to him the worn and pitiful item of 
furniture that it was. The creased and far from clean 
quilt contrasted with her neat attire. The threadbare 
carpet seemed to complete the picture. Beauty and the 
Beast... with new players.

He partly addressed the problem by turning off the 
harsh center light and switching on the bedside lamp 
that at least made some pretense at gentility. He 
simply could not take his eyes off her. He had caught a 
glimpse of her light-colored panties as he laid her 
down. Now as she lay on her back, he could see a hint 
of them once more. He felt a substantial stirring right 
where he needed to.

He approached the bed and very gently re-arranged her 
legs so that more of her undies were visible. She was 
still out cold and he had free rein for now. Sitting in 
the chair opposite, the view now was substantially 
improved and he unzipped himself. Definitely no need 
for soap tonight he realised. He began to pleasure 
himself as his fantasies kicked-in big-time given the 
scene before him.

 From the chair, her fully indecent pose suggested to 
him, innocence betrayed and in his mind she was doing 
this to arouse him further. Staring at her, he 
visualised her masturbating just for him.

He felt the first orgasm racing to the surface and 
barely made it to the bed. Kneeling there, Luke 
directed the hot magma spurts right across the front of 
her panties. Several globs caught the edge of her 
skirt, others the inside of her legs. He stared 
fascinated as his reproductive tide began to seep-in to 
the material. 

With his face but a couple of feet from her most 
private of possessions, he gently held aside her 
panties and stared at the hottest sight that he had 
ever seen. Though not fully exposed, her vagina, framed 
by the prettiest short curly hair, was the sexiest and 
most beautiful thing he had ever imagined. Using his 
finger to propel a tiny rivulet of semen that was 
running down her inner thigh, he inched towards the 
forbidden fruit. Although not opening her eyes, she 
began to stir.

Shaking out a few more drops of chloroform on to the 
rag, he got careless and breathed-in enough to make him 
almost pass out. Recovering swiftly, he climbed back on 
the bed and held the material beneath her nose. She was 
senseless again seconds later.

Arousing as Ashley looked in that lewd pose, he had so 
much more to accomplish. Her breasts, quite small, yet 
such prominent beacons of desire fascinated him. For a 
while he just knelt there fondling them gently and 
relishing their softness. When that was superseded by 
the need to explore further, he slipped a hand down her 
blouse and inside her frilly and ultra-soft bra. The 
skin to skin contact just about blew his sanity. 
Passing his hand again and again over her nipples he 
felt them hardening and even though this was an 
automated response, to Luke, she wanted his attentions 
and was teasing him unmercifully. 

First things first though. Laying there on her back, 
face slightly to one side, obviously she wanted to be 
kissed. That he could do, and lowering his head while 
still holding her breasts, he kissed her hard on the 
lips. The taste alone almost brought him to a second 
closure. 

Losing much of the limited control he still had, Luke 
literally tore the front of her blouse until it gaped 
open, exposing her bra completely. He pushed the flimsy 
material up, freeing her beautifully formed young 
breasts. His mouth drying up rapidly like the Utah Salt 
Flats, he could but stare at her tiny light brown 
nipples that he had managed to arouse visibly. Lowering 
his mouth, his lips closed around the milky softness. 
He started to suckle her.

This time he knew what he wanted. Ejecting on cue, he 
directed his semen over both breasts and her face. One 
nipple was covered, her cleavage glistening, while a 
thin whitish trail trickled now down her left cheek. He 
was getting there!

He had now an all-consuming need to see her naked. It 
was then but the least difficulty in divesting her of 
her skirt and slipping her hot little panties off the 
rest of the way. Turning her back over, he stared at 
his handiwork... leastways, God’s handiwork! He sat 
back in his chair just taking in her pronounced hips, 
curved waist and breasts thrust out in anticipation of 
his touch. He arranged her arms up above her head, her 
legs wide apart so that she was in all appearances, 
begging to be taken. 

If only. It’s what he brought her home for isn’t it? To 
rape a girl...that had been the plan. But could he do 
it? What would happen after that? She knew him now, 
could identify him. So far all he had done was 
basically abduct her for a while, though that was her 
word against his anyway. True he’d undressed her and 
felt her up, but nothing that would stand-up in Court.

Of course being forensically uninformed, Luke was 
unaware that courtesy of his index finger, he had 
already shoved enough DNA up inside her to convict a 
herd of intellectually-challenged rapists. But what he 
didn’t know, hardly occupied his right brain activities 
did it? 

That she would come around of course was beyond 
question. He simply hadn’t exactly planned the rules of 
debate from that point onwards. What he was thinking 
though is that maybe he could just get it in her once 
or twice. Who’d know? Certainly not her if she was 
still out.

This was the stuff of dreams. A naked teenage girl, 
letting him do what he wanted to her. Wasn’t strictly 
an accurate summation of the circumstances he knew, but 
it was close enough. 

Kneeling on the bed, he penetrated the folds but a 
fraction. She was so hot within. He groaned, both with 
pleasure and at the sight of her body seemingly 
yielding to his ministrations.

"You want me to do this don’t you Ashley?" he muttered, 
the reality of his actions now an all-consuming emotion 
for him. 

As he began to meet with some resistance, he was 
inwardly pleased that she was obviously still a virgin. 
It made it all the more special. As he increased the 
pressure and the depth of penetration, he felt her body 
react. She seemed to wince slightly even while still 
out. His need was great, his urgency greater. Long past 
the "Let’s back off while we’re still safe" zone, he 
simply was riding a blinding urge now. 

He felt the hymen give and glancing down, saw a trickle 
of blood exiting her body. But it wasn’t as red as his 
lust right at that second. Now he was raping her, no 
other word for it. He could hear, see, and feel nothing 
but his relentless pumping action. If he had, he would 
have seen her open her eyes.

He sensed her legs widen further, the girl’s breathing 
became as irregular as his own. He thought he felt her 
raising her hips but was too close to consummating the 
deed to question that likelihood.

As his residual sperm-supply rode the tube at warp 
factor ten, spraying the girl’s vaginal walls every 
which way, he cried out in a passion, "I so love you 
Ashley."

He didn’t even notice the onset of her tears.

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

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 39