belt

I am winded and in pain and trapped.

StoryKettle » PAIN » belt

Copyright © 2013, Michael M Wayman

Who is she? I don't know. She is large and wants to come in and talk seriously to me.

It is disgraceful and disgusting and despicable what I'm doing to Belinda, what I'm doing to a young and innocent teenage girl.

She lists, one after the other, those disgraceful and disgusting and despicable things that I am doing to Belinda.

She tells me why it is so wrong. She tells me I must stop. She tells me that I should go to the local priest, confess all and surrender to the police.

One problem, who is Belinda? I don't know any teenage girls, innocent or otherwise. But I don't get a chance to speak, not a single word.

She is shouting now, she repeats her list of those disgraceful and disgusting and despicable things that I am doing to Belinda. And some more. Very interesting – she is screaming now.

It's not fair. Why can't I? I know what I want. And no one can stop me.

Suddenly different words. What does it mean? She forces her arm down the front of my trousers.

Not a good move. No, a very bad move. My belt is tight, to hold my trousers up, now it is even tighter. Very awkward and very dangerous.

I trip and fall. I try to fall slowly, I don't want to break her arm. My head hits something hard and I land on the sofa. She lands on me and I disappear. I can feel, I can hear, I can smell and I can't see – my face is in her cleavage.

I am winded and in pain and trapped underneath her. She raises herself up, pulls my trousers down and impales herself on me. She flops back down and I return to her darkness. I am winded and in pain and trapped. I pass out.

I wake. She has got what she wanted and has gone. I say to myself:

You have been raped.



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