Dear Diary 1977

Rudy stepped up behind Kristy, his bare feet silent on the cold floor as he positioned himself directly behind her terrified body. He reached out, his large hands gripping the soft, vulnerable flesh of her buttocks, his fingers sinking deep into the yielding rear. He tilted her hips upward, forcing her to arch her back. With a cruel flick of his wrist, he pulled her cheeks apart, exposing her glistening, pink anus and the swollen, trembling lips of her sex to the air, his eyes devouring the sight of her exposed, defenseless body.

He drew his arm back, the leather strap of the belt elongating in the air as he snarled, his face a mask of sadistic cruelty. He hissed through clenched white teeth, the sound wet and sharp, before bringing the belt down with a ferocious crack. It slammed hard and loudly against Kristy's buns, the leather belt digging into the tender, trembling buttocks with a sickening thud. The force of the blow stunned Kristy, sending a jolt of agony up her spine, the sharp sting of the cut blooming instantly into a deep, throbbing welt. Her body convulsed, a strangled yelp tearing from her throat as the leather bit into her skin, leaving a bright red line of agony amidst the welts already etched there.

Kristy Blair’s eyes flew wide open, the whites flashing in stark contrast to her tear streaked face as a raw, agonized scream tore from her throat, shattering the heavy silence. She twisted violently at the waist, jerking her hips desperately to the side to escape the sting of the leather, but her father was relentless. He hauled the belt back again, the air whistling as he swung it down upon her left flank. The leather belt caught the soft, pale skin hard, digging in deep as the leather snapped tight against her muscle. Kristy thrashed, her body writhing as the searing pain radiated outward, making her sweat pour down her face in rivulets.

~

Jennifer continued to punish her own vagina with a frenzy, her hips bucking wildly against her open palm, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Her eyes remained fixed on the brutal scene, yet her mind was drifting, lost in a haze of ecstasy that felt like miles away from the terror unfolding right before her. Kristy pupils were wide with terror, her lips parting as she screamed, a raw, piercing sound that begged for her father to stop.

Jennifer Meininger established a rhythm, her finger plunging in and out in time with the rhythm of Rudy's renewed assault on Kristy. Each strike on Kristy's buttocks was met with a deep, forceful thrust of Jennifer's finger. Her right hand continued its frantic work on her clit, rubbing in hard, fast circles that were driving her rapidly toward the edge. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps now, her chest heaving. The splintery wood of the stairs dug into her buttocks, a grounding point of pain that only heightened the pleasure.

Her eyes were wide, unblinking, drinking in every detail. She saw the way Kristy's muscles strained in her back and legs, the way her fingers, trapped in the stocks, clenched into white knuckled fists. She saw the glistening of tears and sweat on Kristy's skin, the red, matted hair that clung to her face. And she saw Rudy, his face a mask of brutal concentration, his body a machine of violence. It was all so beautiful, so perfect.

Jennifer Meininger added a second finger, then a third. She stretched herself, filling herself completely. The feeling of fullness was exquisite, a deep, satisfying pressure that built and built. Her hips were rocking now, a desperate, involuntary motion, fucking her own hand as she stared ravenously at the scene. Her juices coated her fingers, a thick, slick sheen that ran down her wrist.

The smell of her own arousal, sharp and musky, mingled with the smells from the basement, creating a heady, intoxicating cocktail. She was no longer just pleasuring herself.  She was punishing herself, her fingers plunging and rubbing with a violent urgency that matched the violence of the scene before her. She wanted to feel what Kristy was feeling, to translate her friend's pain into her own brutal ecstasy.

~

Rudy hauled the belt for another strike, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. He brought the leather down hard against Kristy’s damaged buttocks, the leather digging deep into the raw, throbbing flesh. The belt snapped tight against the skin, the cruel impact sending shock waves of pure agony radiating through her middle. Kristy let out a ragged, guttural scream, her body jerking violently as the burning pain flared bright, her muscles seizing up as the belt bit into her defenseless body, leaving a deep, bleeding welt in its wake.

Rudy’s body was soon slick with heavy perspiration, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged, hot pants. He continued to whip Kristy’s buttocks, the leather strap whistling through the air with a rhythmic, cruel cadence. The skin of her backside was now a ragged map of welts and lacerations, the leather snapping against the raw, tender flesh with a sickening, wet slap.

Sweat dripped from his brow, blurring his vision, but he did not pause, his arm growing weary from the relentless, violent exertion, though his sadistic grin remained fixed on his face. Kristy Blair let out a heart wrenching wail, her face twisted in despair as the leather bit into her already ravaged skin. Her voice cracked, trembling with a desperate, pathetic plea as she looked up at the monster holding the belt.

"Father! Please! Dad, stop it! It hurts too much! Please, please, don't hurt me anymore!” She begged.

Rudy tossed the belt aside with a careless touch, his bare feet moving silently across the floor as he flexed his aching fingers. He strode purposefully across the room to the wall lined with shelves. His hand delved into a box, retrieving a large, cylindrical red candle and a small box of wooden matches. With a sharp hiss of the striker, he struck a match, the flame catching the air as he lit the wick. The candle burned merrily, casting a warm, dancing glow over the gruesome tableau, casting long, stark shadows across the terrified girl.

Rudy’s bare feet moved with a slow, predatory grace across the floor. He approached Kristy, who was panting and sobbing, her body trembling with exhaustion and pain. He held the candle out in front of him, the flickering flame casting eerie, dancing shadows across his sensual features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the cruel glint in his eyes. A diabolical smile again creased his face, widening as he watched her struggle to breathe, the light illuminating the dark, sadistic desire lurking behind his gaze.

Rudy’s eyes burned with a dark, sadistic intent as he slowly tilted the candle toward Kristy, the flame flickering violently in the sudden draft. A sharp hiss of air escaped him as the wax pooled at the wick's base, preparing to spill. With a cruel, deliberate motion, he tilted the vessel further, and suddenly, a thick stream of hot, molten wax began to pour from the spout. It arced through the air, landing squarely across one of Kristy's helpless and aching buttocks. The searing liquid hissed as it made contact, scalding the sensitive skin instantly. Kristy screamed, her body jerking as the wax solidified and clung to her flesh, the heat radiating deep into the muscle, the droplets running down the curve of her hip in a molten river of agony.

His gaze was fixed on the damage he had wrought, his face a portrait of calm sadism. He slowly manipulated the candle, tilting it a fraction more, allowing a fresh globule of the heated, molten wax to splash heavily onto the raw, stinging skin. The hot liquid splattered with a wet, sickening sound, pooling into the crevices of the welts and cutting into the tender flesh. Kristy wailed in agony, a high pitched, broken sound that echoed off the walls, her body bucking against the pain, her skin blistering and reddening under the relentless heat as the wax hardened and trapped the burning sensation against her.

~

He put the candle away. Rudy then reached down with his right hand, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He gave it a tight, rough squeeze, his knuckles whitening as he grounded his palm. It was a vulgar display of his arousal, a wet, slapping sound filling the air as he pumped his hand once, twice, against his own shaft. Then, his left hand flew forward, palm striking outward.

The impact was sudden and brutal. His hard, calloused palm landed squarely against the quivering lobes of Kristy's aching, lacerated ass. The sound was a sharp, wet thwack, loud enough to vibrate through the wood. She yelped, the sound muffled and thin, as darts of searing pain shot through her throbbing, tender flesh. Her body jerked violently against the frame, her muscles spasming, but the waist high stock held her fast, leaving her buttocks exposed and battered for every strike.

With his left hand, Rudy gripped the firm, ample curve of her left buttock, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He dug his thumb deeply into the cleft, applying a cruel, twisting pressure that forced the muscle to expand. He peeled the soft, trembling globe back, revealing the winking, puckered rosebud of her anus beneath.

It was scrumptious looking, a pouting, miniscule mound of pink, silky flesh, taut and shivering against the cold air. The center held a tiny, dark hole, glistening faintly with the moisture of her fear, waiting, vulnerable, and utterly exposed for his gaze.

With a deliberate, teasing slowness, Rudy maneuvered his cock between the heavy, quivering cheeks of Kristy's buttocks. He gripped his shaft, positioning the thick, mushroom shaped head with cruel precision before pushing it against the rosette of her anus. The rim was tight and shivering, clamping down on the pressure of the intrusion.

His own cock was fully erect, a rigid, angry column of flesh that slid through the slick valley of her crease. As he grounded forward, the underside of his shaft rubbed furiously over the lower lips of her puckered, oozing vagina. The wet, sticky friction was humiliatingly graphic, the sound of skin on skin wet and obscene as his arousal ground against her most intimate opening, forcing her to arch her back deeper into the frame.

Kristy panicked. Her neck twisted violently within the collar of the stockade, straining against the wood as she frantically tried to disengage her head. Simultaneously, her hands in the restraints below flexed, fingers clawing at the air, grasping and pulling at the unyielding frame in a desperate bid to break free.

Her body thrashed in the stocks, the wood groaning under the strain of her flailing, exposing her torso and hips completely to his view, yet she remained helplessly bound. The scream that tore from Kristy’s throat was a raw, jagged sound of utter betrayal, her voice cracking with the sheer weight of the violation to come.

"Father! No! Please! Don't do it! Stop! Don't use my ass!" She screamed.

She shrieked his name, the plea descending into a sobbing, desperate wail as the reality of what he was about to do. The brutal, degrading stretching of her most intimate part. It overwhelmed her. Her neck thrashed wildly against the wood, her eyes wide and wet. Though the man stood directly behind her, looming in the shadows, Kristy’s voice carried to him, carrying the sound of her soul cracking.

"Father! No!” Kristy yelled.

She screamed his name, a raw, desperate wail that was cut short by the reality of the violation to come. Her voice trembled with the sheer weight of the shame and terror, begging him to spare her the agony of the penetration, to leave her hole whole. Her body thrashed violently against the frame, her head snapping left and right, neck straining painfully in the collar, while her hands clawed at the wood of the stockade in a futile, desperate bid to escape the impending anal assault.

Rudy wedged the bulbous, leaking tip of his cock against the winking, clenching asshole, the pressure forcing the rosette to relax momentarily. With a rough, possessive grip, he slid his hands around Kristy's full, voluptuous hips, his fingers digging into the soft, yielding flesh. He spread his legs wide, planting his feet solidly on the ground to brace himself against the inevitable resistance. He knew that Kristy was not going to like what he was planning to do next, and that she would struggle violently.

Kristy braced herself, every muscle in her body tensing as she anticipated the impossible stretch. He had not applied a drop of lubrication to his cock. She knew that it would tear her apart. Her anus was tight and dry, the sensitive tissue clamped down hard on the absence of glide, quivering with a desperate, futile resistance against the imminent invasion. The friction alone promised to be excruciating, a violation that would rip through her defenses with brute force.

He tightened the muscles in his buttocks and gave a low, ferocious grunt, maneuvering his hips and pelvis forward with all his might, pushing forward with his belly. At the same time, he tightened his hold on Kristy's hips and yanked her back against him hard. The combined force of his thrust and the sudden pull was brutal. With the thickness and rigidity of his cock acting as a wedge, it drove several inches into her surprised anus before she even knew what was happening, tearing past the resistance.

The sudden, violent invasion tore her sphincter muscle apart. It was stretched impossibly, a cruel, violent tear that sent shockwaves of agony radiating through her lower body. The huge, cruel oversized cock stuffed its way into her tight anus with a sickening, wet sound of tearing flesh, stretching the pink skin of her anus to its absolute breaking point as it filled her entirely, burying itself deep inside her.

Kristy’s eyes bulged from their sockets, bloodshot and wide with absolute terror as the cock breached her defenses. Her mouth fell open wide, gasping ‘O’ her jaw slack from the sheer magnitude of the pain. Her hands clenched into tight, bloody fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms, while her legs trembled violently beneath her, threatening to give out entirely.

She screamed in agony, a raw wail that tore from her throat. It was a continuous, deafening shriek, sustained for a whole minute straight, echoing off the walls as her body convulsed in the restraints, utterly unable to process the violation.

~

Kristy’s continuous screams sent powerful shockwaves of pleasure all over Jennifer’s body. Jennifer’s fingers, still buried deep within her, were coated in a thick, slick sheen of her own arousal. The air in the stairwell was thick with the musky scent of her vagina, a perfume that mingled with the damp, earthy smells of the basement. Jennifer withdrew her fingers, the sudden emptiness a fleeting ache. She brought her hand up into the light, her fingers glistening, webbed with her viscous fluids.

Her pajama shirt, a simple button down, felt suddenly restrictive, suffocating. The fabric was damp, clinging to her skin, which was flushed and dewy with sweat. With a sense of ceremony, she began to unbutton it. Her fingers, still slick and trembling slightly from her recent exertion, fumbled with the small plastic buttons. One by one, they came undone. The first revealed the shallow valley between her collarbones. The second exposed the upper swell of her breasts. As she worked her way down, the cool basement air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

When the last button was free, she pulled the shirt open. Her breasts were perfect, not by some artificial standard, but in their natural, firm symmetry. They were medium sized, sitting high on her chest, with pale, pink areolas that were puckered into tight, sensitive nubs from the cool air and her lingering arousal. A fine sheen of sweat coated them, making them gleam in the sparse light. They rose and fell with each breath she took, the motion slow and languid.

She brought both hands up to her mouth. The scent of her own sex was strong, a sharp, tangy, and deeply intimate aroma. She extended her tongue and cautiously licked the tip of one finger. The taste was complex. It was salty, slightly sweet, with a fruit like taste that was uniquely her. She loved it. It was the taste of her own power, her own dark desires. She closed her lips around the finger, sucking it clean, her tongue swirling around the digit, savoring every last drop. She did the same with the other fingers, her movements deliberate, almost adoring.

She licked her palm, the flat of her tongue collecting the pooled moisture, her eyes half-closed in bliss. Cleaning her hands was an act of self-consumption, a way of internalizing the pleasure she had just created. As she was lost in this ritual, a new sensation made her freeze. It was a feeling of impossible intimacy, a touch where there should be none. A sensuous, impossibly soft tongue, warm and wet, was gently probing the folds of her labia. It wasn't a clumsy or hesitant touch. It was confident, knowing. It traced the delicate edge of her outer lips, a slow, maddening caress that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight up her spine.

Jennifer’s eyes flew open. Her body went rigid, every muscle tensing. Alarm shot through her, cold and sharp. Her head snapped down, her gaze darting between her spread legs. She saw nothing. Only the shadows of the basement stairs, the rough wood, and her own exposed flesh. There was no one there. The impossibility of it sent a wave of panic through her. Was she losing her mind? Had the intensity of the scene and her own arousal driven her to some form of hallucination?