He gripped them tightly, one bottom cheek in each hand.
Holding them, he squeezed them viciously, so that soft pink bottom flesh oozed through his fat gripping fingers.
He squeezed and kneaded her buttocks, and pinched them painfully.
His fingers sank into the crack of her buttocks.
He fingered the tiny hole of her rosebud anus, prodding it with stubby fingertips and irritating it with his crude handling.
Sweat rolled off his beached-whale form, as he thrust into her.
He was close to coming now.
He pressed the tip of his middle finger against her quivering anus and shoved it in, jamming the fingertip up her ass.
Kelly cried out in shock at this crude invasion.
He stuffed his finger in her up to its first joint and wiggled it inside her.
His cock pumped in a fury of fast motion.
Suddenly he threw his hips forward, plunging his cock into the vortex of her sex, jamming the cock head against her womb.
He did not pull back for yet another stroke, but kept his cock in her.
He shook and shivered on top of her.
Her already stretched pussy was stretched even further, as his fat cock expanded under the surge of erupting semen.
His throbbing cock spurted out a seething mass of come.
Kelly wanted to vomit, when the first jolt came gushing.
Come was pumped into her at high pressure, befouling her precious pussy.
He groaned and gasped on her like a dying man.
His cock filled her pussy to the brim with thick, gooey come.
His thrashing faded, after his orgasm, had peaked.
His red face sobbing for breath, he collapsed on top of her.
His cock was still hard in her.
After a while, Kelly wondered if he had passed out in a drunken stupor.
Indeed he had – which did nothing to aid her.
Even though he was out, he was on top of her, and his heavy weight held her fully pinned to the cot and immobile.
His cock was still stiff in her.
Gradually, it softened, losing some of its thickness.
Dan Waxer came awake with a sudden start.
He leered down at her.
"Yeah, that's just what you needed, some cock from a real man! Some more of that, and you'll never want to lap another pussy again!"
"I hate you!" Kelly sobbed.
"Before I'm done with you, you'll learn to love it! And you're gonna have plenty of chances to get used to some good hard cock!"
He rose off her then, withdrawing his semi-erect member from inside her.
He pulled free and climbed off her.
Staggered by the force of his orgasm, and exhausted from the violent action of raping Kelly, Dan Waxer rested for a moment.
He sat on the edge of the cot, feet on the floor, head hanging.
Idly he played with her breasts, inflicting little abuses on them.
Kelly's aching body was smeared and dripping with clammy sweat.
She ached all over… her mouth ached from the raping it had endured, and her face ached from the slapping around he had given her.
Her nipples were sore and swollen from his mistreatment.
Her pussy lips glowed redly, irritated and chafed from the rough raping.
Inside her pussy, she was sore and throbbing from the stretching given her by his fat, oversized, brutal cock.
His come oozed inside her. Some of it dribbled from her pussy, trickled down her crack, and spilled on the bed to stain the rumpled sweaty sheets.
Kelly was too drained from her ordeal to cry.
Worse lay ahead of her.
Presently, Dan Waxer got up. He stumblingly groped around for the bottle of whisky which he had brought up to the attic.
The bottle lay on its side, close to the stairwell. He was disappointed to discover that little more than a mouthful remained.
He pulled up his shorts, covering his rapist's groin.
"I'm going down for more booze," he muttered, "but I'll be back!"
Kelly knew he would.
He climbed down the stairwell, his gross body disappearing from her sight until only his pumpkin-sized head remained.
He turned to look and leer at his victim.
"You better rest up while you can," he chuckled. "You're gonna need it for later, when I give you a real workout!"
He staggered downstairs.
Drunk as he was, he did not forget to lock the attic door, as Kelly had hoped he might. She heard the lock click into place.
She listened to him make his stumbling, staggering progress through the house, going downstairs to the first floor.
Then she gave in to the bitter grief which she had repressed while he was here. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry!
Now that she was alone, she could give vent to her feelings.
She rolled on her side, stifling a moan of pain. She pressed her thighs closed, as if that could somehow protect her ravished pussy.
Bitter tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her face.
The sheets were rumpled, clammy with sweat, stained with semen. They were cold and unpleasant against her flesh.
Worst of all to her was the knowledge that Dan Waxer was right.
If she ever accused him of raping her, all he would have to do is claim that she was out of her head and had made up all of it.
He need only point to her lesbianism as proof that she, not he, was the pervert.
"Oh, Laurel," she whimpered, "where are you now? Please help me, somebody!"
She covered her face with her hands and cried bitterly.
Things couldn't be worse or so she thought.
She would learn differently – and soon!
Captive prisoners of lust such as she were vulnerable to any forms of abuse that their sadistic captors could devise.
As Kelly would discover – to her anguished sorrow!
CHAPTER FIVE
The following afternoon found Kelly bound and gagged.
Dan Waxer had to put his step-daughter in naked restraint, in order to do what he lusted to do to her.
Kelly was nude, when he wrestled her down on the cot for the binding.
He pressed her face into the mattress, muffling her screams.
He had brought the rope upstairs with him when he entered the attic.
He was dressed in his bathrobe, a filthy undershirt, and soiled shorts.
He was on his knees on the bed, squatting over Kelly and pressing her down on the cot, where he had forced her face down.
When she spied the jar of lubricating jelly he brought upstairs with him this afternoon, Kelly was panicked into resisting.
Her little fight was futile, and more – it helped arouse him further.
When she tried to escape, her bare feet padding on the floorboards, he caught her by the wrist, jerking her off balance.
Then he flung her down on the cot and followed her there.
Overpowering her with his weight and brute force, he wrestled her on the cot on her tummy, and squatted over her.
"Help!" Kelly shrieked. "Help, somebody, please! Mmph!"
Her cries were cut off when he pushed her face into the mattress.
Taking hold of her arms, painfully twisting them, he pulled them behind her back, crossing her wrists and holding them in place.
"This will take some of the fight out of you!" he leered.
He tied her wrists together with the length of rope, pulling the cords tight so that they cut, into her tender flesh.
He checked the bonds to make sure she could not loosen them.
Kelly was stretched out face down on the cot, with her bottom turned up.
He squatted behind her, pressing down on the backs of her thighs.
His eyes rolled with delirious lust as he beheld her squirming bottom.
Kelly whimpered, "What – what are you going to do to me?!"
"I'm gonna fuck your hot ass, honey!"
"Help! Help!"
"You noisy little cunt!"