Stolen Virgin

by Viv Phoenix

  I knew she’d like it. I had her sweet tooth posts all organized. I made good tea. Black tea with fresh mint leaves and simple syrup. Refreshing on a hot day. We’d been making it the same as long as my family lived in The Hollow. The mint grew by the creek.

  Once she calmed down, I’d show her all my special places and the arrowheads I found.

  Her hands looked pale. She gripped that glass like someone about to have an accident gripping the emergency brake. Her eyes looked so big, the throbbing in my pants got worse.

  Beautiful girl. She’d be even more beautiful all messed up.

  I ached to touch her.

  She slid the tea around on the table like she wasn’t ever going to drink more of it. Rucked up the tablecloth with her fussing.

  I expected a rich girl from a fancy house would have some manners as a guest. I didn’t mind. I’d learn her some manners.

  “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

  “My room?” Her voice squeaked. She stood up so fast she tipped back the chair. It fell.

  She leaned down to right it, her hands all fluttery, eyes skittering. Her breasts shook together like a clapper in a bell.

  Damn, she was pretty. Looked like she’d bruise easy. Clumsy. That was good.

  My brother Earl told me: ‘When a girl gets all tongue-tied and clumsy, it means she likes you.’ Earl was the best-looking of the dozen of us. He had opportunity aplenty to learn how to tell about a girl liking on him. He got a bunch a girls in trouble for miles around. He’d been gone to Mexico years on, but I still saw the little Earl and Earlette shoots down at the market with their unwed mamas.

  Sy shook like a birch in a storm—she must like me a hell of a lot. I bit my lip for thinking hell.

  “Come on,” I motioned with my head for her to come with me.

  She sized me up. Showed on her face she knew she had as much chance of standing up to me as she had of stopping a tractor with her bare hands. She sighed.

  My heart swelled. Now we were getting someplace.

  I opened the narrow door next to the fridge and tugged the string. The bare 40-watt bulb didn’t show much, just the steep stairs going into the basement. Pure dark at the bottom of the steps. Smell of earth came at me.

  Not the nicest place for a guest room, but it was quiet. She looked like a girl had some noise in her. Even though we didn’t have neighbors for miles, you never knew when there might be a stray hunter or ranger.

  Tourist couple knocked and asked for a corkscrew, back before Pa passed. Like it was just fine to ignore all the no trespassing signs, invite themselves in, and expect us to open the wine for their picnic on our land. Vermin.

  I gave them a corkscrew. Several times. In their most tender places.

  No one ever found them.

  Pa showed me how to make the lime pit. Miss him every single day.

  The sad part was having to destroy their sports car. Gleaming thing worth more than all our land. But Pa knew even the parts showing up could endanger us. We never had a Blake in prison and weren’t never going to go there. So we took that beauty apart and threw it piece by piece down a crevasse so deep you didn’t hear the metal hit bottom. We used witches broom to erase their tire tracks. Learned that from TV. Investigators identify a vehicle from its tracks same way as we identify animals.

  Mister big shot and his bride disappeared like they never existed.

  We killed him the same day he knocked on our door. She had stamina, and was a lot more fun. Gave a good bucking ride to all of us, many times each, for several days. That was back when more of my brothers lived at home, six of us, plus Pa and Grandpa—and Uncle Ray, who had the good timing to come visit on her third day. By then, she was all broke in and knew how to act. He introduced her to his belt even so. He just loved to hear a woman howl. Basement’s the right place for that.

  Sy, she trembled next to me like a sinner looking into the pits of hell. I wouldn’t waste Sy. That would be worse than wasting good venison because a deer was road kill.

  “Everything’s all right, Sy. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “I don’t want to go down there.” She trembled, more beautiful than ever, so pale her lips and cheeks looked bruised scarlet.

  “I know. Trust me, this is for your own good.” I used that actor’s tone, so earnest. “Easy now. Take some deep breaths. Slower. That’s better.”

  I’d keep Sy. Just had to train her up some, teach her to mind, so I could go about my hunting and trips to market without her trying to run off. I didn’t want to have to keep her on a leash or tied up, or locked up, all the time. Maybe I’d put a dog collar on her for fun, though. I wanted her to want to stay. I read enough dirty books by women to know what they want. Took me weeks, but I read every one of Sy’s favorite books.

  Filth, all of it, but educating filth. Women craved to be roped by ranchers, banged by bikers, debased by billionaires, owned by sheiks, butt-fucked by cowboys, defiled by doctors, shared by brothers, sandwiched by gay guys, pack-used by wolves, kidnapped by hitmen, bred by stepdads, and taken hard and unprotected by gangs, stalkers and murderers of all races.

  The new women were nothing like the women I was taught to treat with respect way back, so I figured they didn’t deserve none. I schooled myself with the outpourings of their desires and learned I had all I needed to make Sy want me—and make Sy stay: I had a big cock.

  No matter what she might say, that’s what she wanted, along with a lot of telling her I owned her. Didn’t hurt none that I was a brute and no longer had anything against hurting a woman for her own good. That’s catnip for her.

  She wanted an aggressive, dominant, take-charge and fuck-her-right-through-the-pain arrogant alpha. Learned that from women’s filth. I’d dominate her ass off. They wanted to be treated bad. Made them all wet and mushy, and she’d fall in love with me and want to have my babies. Fine with me, because I wasn’t going to be using no protection for her training, or any time ever.

  “Go on now. There’s a hand rail. Get on down the stairs. There’s something I want to show you down there. You’re going to like this, Sy. I promise. You’re going to like it a lot.” My cock strained at my jeans, growing down my leg. We had to get down there before I got dizzy.

  She hesitated, one small foot hovering over the step. I squeezed the back of her neck. She squealed and got a move on.

  First time I’d touched her on purpose. My fingers burned.

  I shut the door and bolted it, followed her down the stairs. They creaked.

  No way out down here. The only back door in my basement was the one between the peach cheeks of her ass.

  She stood in the shadows.

  I had fresh sheets on the bed, and a lava lamp on the nightstand. I turned it on.

  A big painting of Jesus my grandma done hung over the bed. She did one of our old shepherd, Goliath, too. I didn’t put it down here, though. This was a special place. It seemed fitting that the Lord preside, seeing as I was about to take my wife. We didn’t have a preacher, but this was the old-fashioned way, like in the Bible with all the cleaving unto and begetting.

  The lamp put highlights in her hair and across the peeking cheeks of her ass. She sure was never going to leave the house exposing that ass once she was mine. I’d whip that ass for her if she tried it.

  Women lost respect for themselves. How do you expect respect from anyone else if you have no dignity and self-respect at all?

  Those woman-written books told how they wanted to be corrected. Correcting Sy would be my pleasure.

  I got some modest dresses in her size. The sales lady was real nice, helped me find everything I needed.

  I sold some old cattle skulls and rusted scrap metal from the barn to raise the cash. My share of the cash from the corkscrew tourists was buried out back, put aside for a rainy day the way Pa taught me. I could make some more money any weekend. The city people snickered about rubes and white trash, but they paid top dollar for our garbage. I had fun at the flea markets, watc
hing all the stupid people thinking they were ripping us off.

  “There’s a bathroom there. Go ahead and shower and change.”

  “Change?”

  “There’s a pretty dress, a whole outfit for you. You’ll like it. It’ll feel good to put on something fresh, something nice. Pretty girl like you, you belong dressed beautiful like an angel. I want you to look pure.”

  “Oh.” Her mouth worked.

  “I got the shoes in three sizes. I hope something fits.” Back when I started watching her, I wanted to make a plaster of Paris cast of her footprints at her house, but if I got caught, it would ruin everything. Instead, I got extra shoes and saved the receipt. I bought everything in a real department store in the city. The sales lady promised she’d take back the ones we didn’t use. She seemed to enjoy helping me put together an outfit for my bride and gave me a discount.

  Sy’s hands hung limp. She stared at me.

  “You want to get in there and shower now.” I told it to her in the tone I used to Goliath when he got in mind to chase cars.

  Just like in the books, she blushed, and she minded.

  Same as with a dog, teach her who’s alpha.

  The water started. I sat on the end of the bed to wait.

  Didn’t sound right. Water changed when someone stepped under it. It didn’t change. I didn’t become a good hunter by not paying attention to prey.

  I tapped on the door.

  “Sy? Sy? Answer me, or I’m coming in there.”

  I put my shoulder to the door and shoved it in. Having to splinter that door made me mad. I’d been at pains to make everything nice for our honeymoon.

  She had her hips stuck in the window. I could of told her she wouldn’t fit. She had those big, sweet, child-bearing hips, and they were stuck fast in the narrow window. I grabbed her ankles, yanked her down, and kept her cornered. I slammed and bolted the window.

  I’d planned to go easy on her, no rough stuff, at least, not the first time.

  “You asked for this, Sy. You asked for it. Face the corner.”

  The scrapes on her hips would be nothing to the marks I was going to leave her to remember this.

  I unbuckled my belt and yanked it through the loops with one whistling move like I’d been disciplining bad girls my whole life.

  “Bad Sy. Bad. Bad.” I caught her a mean one on those peeking ass cheeks.

  She yelped. “I’m sorry. Please, Callum. Please.”

  “You want this. You just begged me to punish you.”

  I yanked those slutty drawers down. Her feet were spread, so the cut-offs hobbled her. She tottered into the wall. I swung hard, caught her full across the cheeks. She howled.

  Had to agree with Uncle, that was one sexy sound.

  I walloped her. She made me so mad.

  I made good, bright stripes on that ass. Her lovely, firm round globes shook and rebounded. I enjoyed smashing them with hard strokes.

  “You think on this any time you think of being bad. Understand me?”

  “Yes, I understand. I’ll be good.” She snuffled. “People are going to look for me, Callum.” She looked over her shoulder at me, her raccoon eyes worse, her makeup running down her cheek. “Just let me go. No one will know. It will be okay. But you have to let me go now.” She spoke real slow, like she thought I was slow in the head like my cousin Becky’s first son Oral who they say got fathered by someone too close.

  Damn. Her phone. When she was gone long enough, they’d try to trace her through her phone’s location. Rich girl like that, it had a GPS and tracking, whatever it was that let detectives showed on TV find a person. We didn’t want no interruptions.

  The crevasse wouldn’t do for the phone. I had to get it far away from here. It hit me what I could do, but I had to get her secure first. Real secure.

  “Okay, look Sy, I was going to do all this real nice. But you been bad. You could of had a nice shower and put on your nice new clothes. You don’t like nice, you don’t get nice. Turn around and look at me.”

  She shuffled around, her shorts dragging at her ankles like shackles. Yeah, I’d have to tie her up. I’d tire her out first.

  Wow. I gave a low whistle. She had the prettiest pussy I ever seen. Prettier than a magazine picture. Wow. Her pubes had red highlights like her dark hair when the sun hit it right. Coffee-colored eyes, too. We’d have us some pretty children. That’s another thing about rich people. They look down on us here in the hollow, call us inbred, but I watched history specials. I knew it was royalty and wealthy people that all diddled each other, all the way back to ancient Egypt and probably before them, too. They liked to keep their titles and their wealth, and their fucking, in the family.

  “You are beautiful, Sy.”

  She blushed.

  I pulled her blouse off. Everything I planned, the frilly new dress, the delicate under things the saleslady picked, that was all off now. She wanted to try to ditch me on our first date, I was done with being nice.

  “You don’t act like a lady, you don’t get treated like one.”

  She put her hands up to cover herself. At least she had some modesty. She needed to apply that to everyone else, not her about-to-be groom. I had every right to the sight of her goods. Way she sashayed around town showing her goods, she acted like she wanted to rile up all the men. Fit right in with those books she liked. Well, she wouldn’t be getting any gangbangs. No other man’s ever going to touch what’s mine. She’ll be too sore and satisfied to want more than what I give her.

  I glared at her. “Take that contraption off.” I swung the belt against my leg.

  She took the lacy, stiff thing off. My cock swelled to the woozy point as her rosy brown nipples made my acquaintance. They stuck out like pencil erasers, all chew-able.

  Perfect breasts, firm, high globes, big as pink grapefruit. Yeah, those were going to squish out between my fingers, that silky pale skin mine to milk.

  I’d been half hard the whole time I beat her. Now I grabbed the wall to keep standing up straight. By all that was holy, Sy was an angel. I wished Mama was alive so Sy could see how a good woman behaved. That’s all there was to it. She just had to behave, and we’d have a happy life.

  “Beautiful, so beautiful, Sy. Just be good. That’s all I’m asking. Do what I tell you and have some sense. You don’t go sneaking off when you’re a guest. You don’t go ruining everything. From now on, you obey me. That’s all you have to do, and everything will be fine, you’ll see. You want to make me happy, Sy. Just be good. That’s all I’m asking. Be good.”

  Her nipples crinkled. It wasn’t cold. I think she liked me despite herself. She knew her master.

  “Okay, Callum. I’ll be good.”

  “What’s your name? What kind of name is Sy?”

  “It’s, ugh, my parents named me Sylvia for Dad’s mom. I hate it.”

  “Huh. I think we’ll find a new name for you, a good, feminine girl’s name, but we got other business right now.”

  “Callum. You’re scaring me. You talk like you’re going to keep me here forever. We can still make everything okay, okay?” Her eyes looked flying-saucer-witness big.

  “Don’t worry, beautiful. You pissed me off, but I’m a fair man. I will let you go. I just want to show you something first. Think you can behave yourself long enough for me to show you something?”

  She nodded.

  “Hold still.” I kicked the broken door open. I glanced at the pretty lilac dress hanging next to the mirror. It looked like what a pure girl would wear when she meets her prince, the man fated to claim her treasure. It was too bad Sy had to mess things up. I turned off the shower.

  “Come on.”

  Sy followed me back to the bed, keeping her head down, her posture meek.

  I shut the door hard and she jumped.

  I unbuttoned my fly.

  “Stop acting so damned scared. Take a look, that’s all. Then I’ll take you home. You wrecked everything, anyhow.”

  She stopped backing awa
y, stood there by the bed panting like I been chasing her, even though I was the one put to the trouble of punishing her. Red tongue marks from my belt showed on her hips in the lamplight. Seeing my marks on her made my cock twitch.

  People have lined up to get a look at Snake, so I knew she’d like a look. She was a girl of her time. They had filthy minds and craved a hard fuck with a big cock. Good thing I found her favorite books on her Facebook page soon as she moved to town, or I would never have known the best way to win her was to just go get her.

  I slid my pants down far enough to free him, and pulled him into view. He bobbed, pleased to make her acquaintance.

  A big-eyed waif replaced her. She didn’t look like such a bad girl no more. She had the wonder of Christmas morning on her face, her lips parted. She licked her lips. Snake bobbed again. Only thing that could make Sy Thompson prettier would be a big load of my sperm across her pink cheeks.

  I’d been making tributes on her pictures, so I knew that for sure. Girl looked her best covered in her master’s baby batter.

  I was going to put most of it inside her though, where it would do the most good.

  “Callum.” No more squeaking. She sounded hushed as a good girl in church. I was happy the Lord could see the change I wrought in her. A little training, she’d be a good girl, a good bride, in no time. She had to be, because whether she had any idea yet or not, I was taking Sy to be my wife. Mine. Forever.

  We stood like that, me holding my cock and her staring at him, for so long the sky went gold on the redwoods.

  “I’m a man of my word, Sy. I’ll let you go. You want to leave now, or you want to get down on your knees?”

  She bent her head.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  If she was asking the Lord, I was sure he was on my side. But I don’t think the people up the hill ever prayed. They thought they were too good for me, and too good for Jesus, too. Never once saw any of the Thompsons in church. If I had to be hard on Sy, it was for her own good.

  She dropped to her knees like one of those big wind-filled advertising balloon figures deflating.