by Locket, V.
It looked so much bigger than it had in the tub. My body trembled. Somehow I knew this was what I had been warned against, again and again. This was what my mother tried to protect me from. This was bad, forbidden, sinful. And Hansel was going to do it to me.
I cried out as the tip of the tool between his legs slipped over my forbidden area. It was slick and hot, and he pushed the tip of it into the place where his fingers had been just moments before.
“Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I make you mine.”
My eyes fluttered open, and the moment he caught my gaze, he shoved himself all the way into me.
I screamed as my entire being split open. Before, I’d thought I would shatter, but I did not yet know what shattering felt like. He was a knife, slicing me open, stretching me until I broke. I only felt pain from where he pierced me. It emanated from my forbidden area through my entire body, filling my veins with sap and my lungs with water. Each heartbeat felt like an eternity and each breath like I was drowning.
I couldn’t look at him anymore. I couldn’t look at myself. So I just cried as he lay inside me.
“Gretel.” His voice was soft, raspy. He repeated my name as if it were beautiful—as if it had never known agony. He brushed his thumbs under my cheeks. I remembered those thumbs. When we were young, he’d use them to wipe away tears and dust, just as he did now. I loved those thumbs.
“Look at me.”
I did. I couldn’t deny Hansel anything.
“Do you want me to stop?” His shoulders shook as he asked. His face looked raw. It was difficult for him to stop, I realized, and my body clenched around him, focusing and intensifying the searing feeling of it being broken apart. He groaned with pleasure.
Did he like this? Was this how to satisfy the fever? Was the amount of pain I felt equivalent to the amount of pleasure he felt? I shut my eyes. If that was the case, I would take all his pain until it was mine alone. I would give him my body to ease his fever. I would accept his sin as my own.
“No,” I whispered, looking up at the wooden cross hanging above me. “Do what you want.”
He groaned. “I can’t control myself.”
“It’s alright.”
“I’m sorry.” His head dropped between his shoulders as his hands gripped my hips, tighter, pushing his fingernails into my soft skin, making indents. I grabbed his forearms as he pulled out.
For a moment, I thought it was over—that the two of us could hold one another beneath the cross as the sweat on our bodies cooled. He’d brush my face with his thumbs again. He’d tell me sweet things as the dust settled and my tears dried.
And then his knife slammed into me, shattering my thoughts, shattering my body. He pulled back again and pounded it into me, again and again, as I whimpered and cried out, grabbing onto the thing that hurt me for dear life.
***
Hansel
I’D NEVER FELT ANYTHING SO warm and tight and perfect. Yes, I’d been with other women before, though I hated to admit it. I’d started screwing around at a young age in a futile attempt to forget my lust for her. But none of them were like the image of her I’d created in my mind, and not a single one could compare to her now.
She’d kept her eyes on mine for as long as she could. They glazed over with pain and pleasure as I shoved myself into her for the first time. But then I broke that barrier that kept her safe from me for 18 years, and she’d turned away, screaming, as my body throbbed with ecstasy.
For years I’d thought of fucking her. Every time she said my name, I imagined her begging for my dick. And then at night, when I was alone, listening to her sleep so peacefully in the next room, I thought of slipping next door and fucking that tight cunt until she cried. I wanted to be the source of her torment and her rapture, and at that moment I was. She belonged to me.
She was so damn tight I almost couldn’t fit my dick in. I had to shove so hard and fast, and as each centimeter of my cock slipped in she closed herself around me, as if her pussy was trying to force out my dick even as it gripped it and pulled it closer.
It felt so fucking good.
My hips crashed into her pelvis. Her soft, tight cunt accepted all of my punishment, pulling on my dick like a fucking pro. I grabbed one of her legs and looped her ankle around the back of my neck, getting a better angle at her pussy so I could get deeper. Fuck harder. I fucked that bitch so hard that I had to hunch forward over her soft, willing body and grab the white altarpiece so I wouldn’t fall over.
I slammed into her, losing all sense of self and my self-control, until all that existed was the exquisite taste of her breasts. Her nipples were hard and pink. As I rolled my tongue over them they were sweet and a little salty—then, a bit metallic, as I took them between my teeth. Her knee was now over my shoulder, pulling her little cunt so tight over my dick. I grabbed her lush, firm hips, pushing my cock even deeper into her, serenaded by the sound of her cries.
Hansel, she kept calling out, her voice soft and short as if it were a plea. She balled up the white cloth on the altar in her fists. Unwittingly she pulled it form the corners, revealing the dark, polished wood beneath. The cross above was made of that same wood.
Did God look down at us as I fucked her virgin cunt? Did he know I was going too hard and fast for her? Did he listen in silence as she wept? Did he hear her scream my name as I dragged her down with me into my dark, sinful obsession?
This, I could never be forgiven for. I knew it, as the backs of my legs began to ache with how hard I thrust into her pure body. I knew it as I grit my teeth, overcome with how good and perfect she felt as she squirmed beneath me, turning her cheek so I wouldn’t see her tears. She didn’t deserve this. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this was wrong. That I would hate myself. That I would make her hate me.
But I wanted her, and I wanted God to see the monster he’d made. I wanted to possess every part of her until she couldn’t separate her body from me, so that my ghost would haunt every sexual experience she would ever have, until this memory was so intertwined with her body that she would never be able to experience physical pleasure without remembering this moment.
“Hansel.”
The sound of her voice saying my name broke me from my spell. I looked down into her glassy eyes and stopped moving.
Her cheeks were wet and pink, and her hair stuck to the sides of her face. She tried to pull the corners of the white altarpiece over her breasts. She was still modest, despite all this. She looked untainted, like an angel.
I’d ravaged an angel.
My angel.
“You don’t have to stop,” she said quickly.
“Why are you letting me do this?”
“I love you.” Her cunt tightened as she said it and I moaned, pushing myself in deeper.
“You like doing this, don’t you Hansel?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even look at her. The muscles in my legs tensed, and my dick throbbed with the desire to pump into her as if she were a fucking whore—as if I had no care for her body, but only for my own pleasure.
God, I was horrible. Disgusting. I didn’t deserve to touch her. I started to pull away but she grabbed my arms, holding me close.
“If you like it, then it can’t be bad,” she whispered. “I trust you.”
You shouldn’t trust me. I panted, struggling to fight the urge to take her again.
Something soft brushed against my jaw—her lips. “Please, don’t look so upset. My body is yours. Do what you want with it. I will accept everything you give me, even if it is pain.”
I dug my fingers into her sides, in between the bones of her rib cage. She whimpered, but did not tell me to stop. I grabbed her tits, squeezing and pushing them up, just as I’d wanted to do in the tub. She didn’t tell me to stop. I grabbed them as I pulled forward, using them like handlebars to help me fuck her virgin cunt harder.
I stopped thinking. Everything slipped away but the sensation of her cunt closing around my dick, even tight
er than my fist. It started to get dry and it pulled on it even tighter. It felt even better when it was dry, and I could feel the friction of each muscle in her cunt pushing against my dick. It was a cruel thing, to fuck her so hard when she wasn’t wet, but all she did was bite that perfect bottom lip.
I fisted the fabric over her hands. Both of us, muscles straining, held in position—her, with her legs cocked all the way back and me, with my ass and legs so tight and sore from all my pumping back and forth. I threw my hips into her, fucking away her virginity, and felt my cum rising in my balls.
And I let myself go in her.
She took it.
My orgasm pulsed through my entire body—incandescent, unholy fire. My entire body sang and felt as if it were made of light as my cum shot up inside her virgin cunt.
I collapsed on top of her. Her breast pressed against my cheek, firm and soft. She still smelled sweet, like apples and pumpkin pie. Like youth and happiness. Yet, at the same time, her heart raced so fast that I feared it wouldn’t be able to sustain itself.
I’d done that to her.
She swallowed and pulled the white cloth over her, bundling herself up as if it were a cape. “Is it over?”
Her chest vibrated, just slightly, from her soft, breathy voice. Is it over? Had she really just asked me that? What kind of monster was I?
No woman had ever bluntly asked, is it over? They asked for more. They made sexy talk. They cooed and ran their fingers down my chest.
I pulled back my hips, pulling my cock out of her. I rested it on her thigh. It was still hard. God, in a minute I’d probably be able to go again. I’d always had control. Always. But not now. Not with the thing I wanted most—not when it mattered the most.
I gripped her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Gretel.”
“Don’t say that.” She ran her hands up my arms, wrapping us both in that damn altar cloth. It moved over my head, reminding me of a fort a child might make. I’d done that for her, once. I’d slipped into her bed one morning when we didn’t want to go to church and pulled her sheet over both our heads. I’d told her that it was our own little world and that no one would find us.
But mom and dad found us, of course. They always did. There was no place we could go where we could be alone. The world always interfered.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Hansel. I shouldn’t have followed you. If I’d known that doing this would have upset you so much, I wouldn’t have offered.”
My vision went black. Was she really blaming herself? Why did she have to be a fucking saint? It only made me feel even guiltier for violating her in a holy place. My body suddenly felt cold, except for the places where our skin touched.
I took a few steps back, letting go of her. She sat up and drew the cloth around her shoulders.
“Hansel?”
She was worried about me. She probably should be. I was acting so weird, and I could barely stand straight. “Here,” I said, gathering her dress off the floor. “Put this on.”
She nodded and slid off the altar. She pulled the dress over her head, and began buttoning the buttons. Her fingers fumbled a bit. I’d never seen her without that much control—she never got distracted when doing little, mundane things.
“Hansel, what about my undergarments?”
I looked at the discarded pink silk. They were expensive. Nice. All of her undergarments were like that, and yes, I was the kind of fucking pervert that went through my best friend’s drawer and looked at her panties when she wasn’t around. Still, I couldn’t help it. They were so soft and sweet smelling, just like her. They fit her perfectly. I couldn’t help but think that she would always wear stuff like that if she could—that she would always be frivolous, pink and innocent. I wanted to give her a world with nothing but those things in it, and I wanted to be in that kind of world with her.
I didn’t have he right. Not before, and especially not now, but my body longed for it. Everything I’d ever loved was beyond my reach. Circumstance had made me a thief, and tainted even my most precious moments—the minutes I’d spent holding her in my arms, where she’d belonged only to me in this world and I to her. That simple, perfect illusion threatened to destroy me.
“You can’t wear these anymore,” I said, picking up the underwear. They weren’t her nicest pair, but they were still beautiful, soft, sweet smelling and pink. It seemed wrong that she should be without them.
“But I’m not wearing anything.” She glanced down, blushing, as if she couldn’t imagine going outdoors without underwear on. I suppose she couldn’t.
“No one will know,” I told her, trying to smile.
She hugged herself in the dark. It was so damn cute and all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her, so I looked back over at the altarpiece.
It was red.
She followed my gaze, saw it too. “Oh no! What happened?”
I looked at her a long moment without answering. You really were innocent, I thought to myself. I never wanted the world to touch you. But you were already that innocent without my help. No, you were even more innocent than I could have imagined, and in the end, it was I, who vowed to protect you, that introduced you to such things.
She crept closer to me. “I’m scared, Hansel. I don’t understand why, but I’m so sore, and cold.”
I allowed myself to hug her. Soon, I wouldn’t be allowed to even touch her. But in this place, where we were alone, it was only I who could give her comfort from this nightmare I’d created. “Don’t worry about it. Let me see your legs.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“Come on,” I said, pushing up her skirt.
She cringed. I felt so disgusted with myself that for a moment I couldn’t move.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you again.” Not ever.
“It’s not that,” she replied too quickly. “I’m just flustered, is all.”
I grabbed the corner of the altarpiece. “We need to get the blood off between your legs. You wouldn’t want to stain your dress as well.”
“Oh, this old thing,” she muttered. “Wait, what are you doing? You can’t do something like that with that. You’re going to ruin it.”
“It’s already ruined.”
She began to shake. “Hansel, what are we going to do?”
Suddenly, I got the feeling that she was talking about more than just what we were going to do at that moment, right then, with the white altarpiece. I felt like she was talking about what we were going to do when we got home and saw her parents. Our friends. Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Ten years from now, when we were both with our new families and not each other, and this day would only be a distant nightmare for her and the one thing that kept me going.
I had told her that she would never forget me after this. That every time she was touched, she would think of me. But the truth was that it was the opposite. I’d seal this memory deep inside my heart, and when I was alone, close my eyes and relive it.
I’d already used other girls as replacements, but after tonight the ghost of her touch would haunt me whenever I touched another woman—that perfect innocence, perfect love, perfect trust.
An innocence I had destroyed. A love I had taken advantage of. A trust I’d betrayed.
“Don’t worry about the altarpiece,” I told her. “We’re going to get rid of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to bury it in the woods.”
“Not the woods, Hansel,” she cried, grabbing onto my sleeve. “Not the woods. The woods are dangerous. You could be—”
“I won’t go far. You can go home without me.” It would probably be better if we returned at separate times.
“And what about my undergarments?”
I briefly thought of keeping them, but it would be a dangerous keepsake. If this secret were ever exposed...well, I didn’t even want to think about the consequences. This passion was dangerous. I wouldn’t let anything hurt her. Not even my passions. This ent
ire affair would be buried.
I grabbed both garments and left the church. I heard Gretel’s footsteps behind me. “I said not to follow me.”
She held her hands behind her back and swayed from foot to foot. “I’m sorry, I just can’t leave you. I’m afraid to go home alone.”
It was probably true. Sometimes she still acted like she was ten. Made me feel like a gigantic fucking pervert but...then again, it wasn’t like anything could possibly make me feel worse after what I’d done tonight.
“Fine,” I grumbled, and headed off to the woods.
She watched me dig. “Are you sure this is alright?”
I paused, resting the shovel on the earth. “No one can find these, ever.”
She sucked in a breath, held it. “Alright, Hansel.”
God, she was so innocent. She looked to me for everything. She still loved me. She still trusted me, despite everything. I had to break that trust and love, but I wasn’t strong enough, because that selfish part of me wanted her to love me that much. If I were a better person—if I were stronger—I’d break her heart now. But I couldn’t. I was useless when it came to her.
What would become of us?
I buried both garments together. Probably should have done them separately, but it was getting late and Gretel looked cold. Besides, no one ever came to the woods.
I picked up the shovel. “Ready to head back?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Hansel, don’t push me away anymore. I’ve missed you.”
I said nothing, but kept walking. She stumbled beside me, and I grabbed onto her to keep her from falling.
“I love you,” she said.
A shock went through my body. I wanted to pin her up against the trees and tell her I loved her and have my way with her delicious, sweet, open body. But it wasn’t like that was something I could ever do again.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get going.” And the two of us went home.
Chapter 3: Where She Sleeps
Gretel
I COULDN’T SLEEP. I gripped the pillow beside my head, trying to kill the urge to push it between my aching legs. I didn’t know whether something like that would soothe or ignite my fever.
