Dear Diary 1977

But the touch didn't stop. The invisible tongue became more insistent. It parted her slick folds, exploring the tender, sensitive skin within. It swirled around the entrance to her vagina, teasing, promising. The initial alarm began to dissipate, and was replaced by an expanding, bewildered astonishment. The pleasure was undeniable, a deep, resonant hum that vibrated through her entire being. It was a pleasure so pure, so exquisite, that the question of its source began to seem irrelevant.

A slow, breathy moan escaped her lips as the invisible tongue finally penetrated her. It slipped inside her, not with a forceful thrust, but with a slow, inexorable slide that felt utterly natural and completely supernatural at the same time. The feeling was beyond anything she had ever experienced. The tongue was impossibly long, impossibly dexterous. It curled inside her, exploring every contour, every ridge of her inner walls. It stroked the sensitive spot just inside her entrance, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her pelvis.

It felt as if it was tasting her, learning her, memorizing the very shape of her desire. Jennifer leaned back, her shoulders resting against the cold wooden stairs of the basement. She abandoned all pretense of stealth or control. She spread her legs as far as she could on the narrow step, her knees bent, her feet planted on the steps below. She was completely open, completely vulnerable, and offering herself to this unseen entity. Her pajama pants, still tangled around her legs, were a forgotten restraint. Her shirt hung open, her breasts exposed to the cool air, the nipples hard as pebbles.

The invisible tongue began to move with more purpose. It withdrew slightly, then plunged deeper, a slow, sensual fucking motion that made her toes curl. It was thicker than any real tongue could be, filling her in a way that was both satisfying and left her craving more. As it moved within her, the very tip of it began to flutter, a rapid, vibration like motion against her G-spot. A choked cry escaped her throat. Her hips bucked forward, trying to take more of it in, trying to deepen the contact.

Her hands, now clean of her own juices, found their way to her breasts. She cupped them, the weight of them familiar and yet feeling new under this spell. She squeezed them, her fingers digging into the firm, sweaty flesh. She rolled her hard nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, pinching them, sending sharp, pleasurable jolts down to her core, where they merged with the deep, thrumming pleasure of the invisible tongue.

The tongue responded to her body's reactions. As she pinched her nipples, it seemed to swell inside her, pressing more firmly against her inner walls. It began to move in a corkscrewing motion, twisting as it thrust, stimulating every single nerve ending. Jennifer's head fell back against the steps of the stairs, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Her mind was blank, wiped clean of all thought except for the sensation of being so thoroughly, so impossibly pleasured.

She could feel her own wetness increasing, a flood of arousal that coated the unseen tongue, making its movements even smoother, more fluid. She could hear the soft, wet sounds it made as it moved inside her, a squelching, slurping noise that was incredibly erotic. The tongue would occasionally withdraw completely, leaving her feeling suddenly, achingly empty, only to lap at her clit with broad, flat strokes before plunging back inside her. Each time it re-entered, the pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming.

Her clit was not ignored. Even as the main body of the tongue worked inside her, she could feel a phantom extension of it, a separate, focused tip of pressure that circled her most sensitive bundle of nerves. It didn't touch it directly at first, instead teasing around it, tracing the delicate hood, making her whimper with need. She wanted. No, she needed direct contact. She tried to shift her hips, to grind against the phantom sensation, but it remained maddeningly just out of reach. Her breath was coming in ragged, panting gasps.

"Please," she whispered.

The word was a prayer to an unknown god. As if in answer to her plea, the phantom pressure finally made contact. It pressed directly against her clit, not with a hard jab, but with a firm, pulsating rhythm. It was like a tiny, perfect heart beating against her own. The combination of the deep, filling thrusts inside her and the focused, rhythmic pressure on her clit was more than she could bear.

Her body arched off the step, her back bowing into a perfect curve. Her hands flew from her breasts to her own hair, her fingers tangling in the strands, pulling as the pleasure became almost painful in its intensity. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but behind her eyelids, she saw a kaleidoscope of exploding colors. Blazing purples, electric blues, and brilliant whites.

~

An explosion of sheer agony ripped through Kristy’s bowels, a blinding flash of burning hot pain that seized her entire nervous system. Her body violently twisted, arching her back so hard it threatened to snap the stocks, but she was trapped. Her jaws dropped open in a soundless, strangled shriek as her air was stolen away by the intensity of the sensation. Her eyes bugged out, rolling back in her head, and her face instantly drained of all color, turning white as a sheet, terrified and broken in the narrow hallway.

Satisfied that she was fully impaled, Kristy’s father drew back a little, only to slam forward even harder. He rotated his hips lustily and hunched upward, burying every inch of the thick, cock inside her battered insides. The sudden, brutal withdrawal and subsequent thrust tore her body upward against the frame, filling her completely, his hips slapping loudly against her buttocks.

A blood curdling howl of agony ripped from her lungs, the sound echoing through the room, raw and jagged, a sound of pure, unadulterated suffering that seemed to vibrate the very air in the sterile space. She threw her head back, arching her neck tightly to the wood, and shrieked over and over again, the sound high pitched and tearing. Tears of agony blurred her vision as sobs of pain wracked her throat, her body shuddering with every ragged breath against the relentless assault. Between ragged gasps and violent shudders, Kristy’s voice cracked, loudly screaming.

"Please... take it out... take it out! I can't... it hurts so much! Pull it out! Please, father, take it out! It's too big, it's tearing me apart. Take it out now!" Kristy cried and screamed.

Her voice climbed higher, turning into a frantic, pathetic whine as she thrashed against the stocks.

"No! Don't move it! Oh god, please don't move it inside me! It burns! Please, just pull it out! I'm begging you, take it out! It's too much, please! Take it out, take it out, take it out!" Kristy begged.

Instead, Rudy ignored her plea. He drew back, exposing her gaping anus to the air, and slammed into her again, brutally. He began to rhythmically slide his hips back and forth, a steady, pounding rhythm that abused her insides, driving his cock in and out with rough, thrusting force. He then sunk the thick cock deeply into her constricting rectum, burying the cock to the root and holding it there, motionless, while Kristy’s body thrashed.

The tight muscle clamped down around the intruder like a vice, struggling to expel him but finding only resistance in the hardness of the cock. He began to move again. He increased the tempo of his thrusts, ramming into her hard, grunting like a wild beast as he tortured her bowels with the huge cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed wetly and loudly in the room, and each brutal impact drove her deeper into the frame, her body jerking forward and back in rhythm with his savage abuse.

Kristy’s father felt the anus relaxing slightly, overcome by the pain and shock, and he pushed his cock further and further in. With a heavy, guttural grunt, he buried the full length of the massive, veiny shaft inside her, his hips flush against her buttocks, filling her more than halfway. Her eyes bulged, wide and swimming with tears of sheer panic, as her father’s cock drove further in. She sobbed in protest, her throat aching with the sound, but it was no use.

Her body was locked in the stocks, utterly unable to stop him from using her. He sighed in pleasure as he felt her anus clamp securely around the head of his cock. He rested there for a moment and then gripped hold of Kristy's hips.

~

The world had narrowed to a single, blinding point of contact, a universe of sensation contained within the unseen entity that was pleasuring her. Jennifer's body was a strained bowstring, vibrating with a pleasure so profound it bordered on pain. Her mind was a blank canvas, wiped clean by the exquisite, impossible workings of the invisible tongue. But even through this haze of ecstasy, a part of her remained anchored to the scene unfolding to her right, a devoted spectator to the theater of cruelty.

Jennifer sat draped across the open stairs. With her head resting on the upper tread, the sharp nosing of the wood dug into her shoulder blades, but she didn't seem to mind the bite of the raw timber against her skin. Jennifer’s head rolled slowly to the right, the rough sawn grain of the tread catching against her hair

Her eyes, half open and glazed with lust, focused on the grim display. The shift in perspective was like changing channels in her mind. From the sublime, private miracle happening to her body to the brutal, public violation of her friend.

A new sound joined the symphony of the basement. Kristy's frantic, pleading sobs, a desperate litany of "no, no, please, not there." It was a sound of pure, unadulterated terror. Rudy paid it no mind. With one hand, he spread Kristy's buttocks, his fingers digging into the already inflamed flesh. With the other, he guided himself, pressing the blunt head of his cock against the resistant ring of muscle.

Jennifer's breath hitched. The invisible tongue inside her seemed to pause, as if also watching, also waiting. Then, with a brutal, unceremonious thrust of his hips, Rudy forced his way in. The sound that tore from Kristy's throat was not a scream. It was something more primal, a shriek of pure, unadulterated agony as her flesh was torn open. It was the sound of a soul being ripped in two. It was a sound so visceral, so filled with pain, that it should have inspired horror, pity, or revulsion.

In Jennifer, it inspired a cataclysmic surge of pleasure. The shockwave of it hit her just as the invisible tongue, as if in response to the brutal act, began to move again. The pleasure that had been a deep, resonant hum suddenly became a roaring inferno. Kristy's scream was the fuel, and Jennifer's body was the furnace. A guttural moan escaped her own lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated delight that was a dark echo of Kristy's pain.

Rudy was relentless. He showed no mercy, no sign of slowing. He withdrew slightly, only to slam back in, deeper this time. Each thrust was a violent act of possession, a determined effort to bury himself to the hilt in Kristy's torn and bleeding anus. The sounds were horrific. The slap of his hips against her raw buttocks, the grunts of his exertion, and, most importantly, the endless, ragged screams that were torn from Kristy's body with every brutal entry.

Jennifer watched, transfixed, her pupils dilated into black pools of hunger. She saw the way Kristy's body convulsed with each thrust, the way her legs kicked uselessly, the way her fingers clawed at the air inside the stocks. And with every scream, with every sign of her friend's suffering, the pleasure coiling in Jennifer's own core tightened, becoming something monstrous and magnificent. This was a pleasure she had never known existed, a dark, transcendent ecstasy born from the absolute destruction of another.

It was a feeling of godlike power, to be able to transmute such agony into such personal bliss. Her breathing became more erotic, a series of deep, shuddering gasps and throaty moans. She was no longer just a spectator. She was a participant in a perverse duet. Her body's responses were a counterpoint to Kristy's screams. The invisible tongue, seemingly attuned to this new, darker rhythm, began to work her with a renewed and vicious purpose.

It went deeper than ever before, a questing, sensuous tongue that seemed to have no length, no limit. It slid past the tight entrance of her vagina, navigating the hot, slick canal with an unerring instinct. Jennifer cried out, her back arching, as the very tip of the tongue found the sensitive, ridged patch of flesh on her front wall. Her G-spot.

The contact was electric. The tongue didn't just touch it. It began to pound it. It was a deliberate, focused assault. It pressed hard, then flattened to massage the area with broad, firm strokes, before curling into a stiff point and jabbing at it repeatedly. The sensation was overwhelming, a deep, internal pressure that sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her entire pelvis, down her thighs, and up into her belly. It was a pleasure so intense it was almost violent, a deep, bruising massage of her most sensitive inner tissue.

Her hands flew from her hair to her own breasts, grabbing them roughly. She squeezed the firm, sweaty mounds, her fingers digging into the flesh. She pulled and twisted her own nipples, the sharp, stinging pain a perfect accompaniment to the deep, internal bliss.

"Yes," she hissed.

The word was a venomous whisper.

"Oh, God, yes." She moaned.

As if her words were a command, something new happened. A pressure began to build inside her, a feeling of being stretched, gaped open from the inside. It was as if the invisible tongue was expanding, thickening, forcing her vaginal walls to accommodate an impossible size. Her breath caught in her throat. The feeling of being so completely, so utterly filled was breathtaking. She felt as if she was being split open, and the thought sent a fresh, dizzying wave of lust through her.

Then, the tongue began to slam in and out of her. It was no longer a sensual, exploratory act. It was a fucking. A brutal, relentless, deep pounding that mirrored the rhythm of Rudy's assault on Kristy's anus. When Rudy slammed his cock into Kristy's torn flesh, the invisible tongue slammed deep into Jennifer's G-spot. When Rudy withdrew for another vicious thrust, the tongue pulled back, only to piston forward again with jarring force.

Jennifer was caught in the crossfire of this violent symphony. Her body became a vessel for the combined energies of the scene. The rhythm was absolute, a perfect, horrifying syncopation of pain and pleasure. Slap went Rudy's hips against Kristy's ass, and thump went the invisible tongue against Jennifer's deepest core. Kristy's screams became a constant, agonized melody, and Jennifer's moans became the harmony, a series of high pitched, ecstatic whimpers.

She was being fucked by an unseen force in perfect time with the anal rape she was witnessing. The connection was absolute, a psychic and physical link that transcended reason. She could feel the phantom sensation of Kristy's torn flesh, a ghost pain that only heightened her own pleasure. She could feel Rudy's brutal force, his rage, his ownership, and it was channeled directly into her own body, translated into the most exquisite ecstasy she had ever known.

Her hips began to buck wildly, meeting the phantom thrusts, grinding against the invisible entity that was devastating her. Her legs, spread as wide as they could go on the narrow steps, began to tremble uncontrollably. The muscles in her thighs and abdomen clenched and spasmed. She was no longer in control of her own body. he was a puppet, and the twin forces of Rudy's cruelty and the tongue's supernatural skill were pulling all the strings.

The pressure inside her built to an impossible degree. It was a hot, tight knot of pure energy in the pit of her stomach, a gathering storm of seismic proportions. The tongue continued its relentless assault, battering her G-spot, slamming into her, stretching her, filling her. The pressure on her clit, that phantom, pulsating beat, intensified, becoming a jackhammer of sensation that pushed her past the point of no return.

Her eyes were locked on the scene, on the sight of Rudy's cock, slick with blood and other fluids, driving relentlessly into Kristy's broken body. Kristy's screams had become weaker, more ragged, the sounds of a spirit being extinguished. It was that sound, the sound of ultimate despair, that finally broke her.

The orgasm that hit her was not a wave. It was a tsunami. It was an explosion of blinding pleasure that ripped through her with the force of a nuclear detonation. A scream, raw and primal and utterly unlike anything she had ever uttered before, was torn from her throat. It was a scream of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, a sound that was the polar opposite of Kristy's agony yet born from the very same source.

Her entire body convulsed, a violent seizure that lifted her off the step. Her inner muscles clamped down on the invisible tongue, gripping it in a series of powerful, rhythmic spasms that were so strong they were almost painful. A gush of fluid erupted from her, a hot, wet flood that soaked her thighs and the stairs beneath her. Her vision went completely white, her mind wiped clean by the sheer, overwhelming force of her release.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her, each one more intense than the last. It went on and on, an eternity of blissful oblivion. She was aware of nothing but the sensation, the feeling of being completely and utterly shattered and remade in the fires of her own dark ecstasy.

~

He shoved forward with a cruel groan, his belly pressing against her, sliding slowly into the smooth covering formed by Kristy's battered rectal membranes. He gave a low moan of pleasure as the colon squeezed tightly and slickly over his prick, the inner walls of her torn flesh molding perfectly around him in a vice like grip of agonizing tightness.

Pushing forward, he buried his cock deeply in Kristy's ass, her body jerking violently at the painful intrusion. He began to ram his hips back and forth, a relentless, savage rhythm, until his heavy balls were slapping loudly against the aching, red cheeks of her ass with every brutal stroke, the sound echoing wetly in the room.

"No! Don't move!" she shrieked.

Her voice was cracking as she shook her head frantically.

"No, no, no!” She cried.

Her senses reeled and she saw spots before her eyes, the world spinning as the sheer, overwhelming agony caused her vision to tunnel. It felt as though an arm had been shoved to the elbow into her aching guts, every thrust of his hips dragging against raw, torn tissue, stretching the delicate lining until it felt like it might give way completely.

He began to pound into her hard, driving his hips forward with brutal force. It was as though he were using her stomach as a punching bag, his rough assault shattering her insides, each impact driving the cock deeper and causing damage to her internal organs. Kristy's shrieks of pain were hoarse and frantic, her voice breaking and cracking as the sheer brutality of the assault robbed her of breath and strength. She gasped for air, unable to sustain the volume, trailing off into ragged, wet gasps that were punctuated by violent, useless jerks of her body against the unyielding stocks.

He shuddered deeply as he came hard, a low growl escaping him as he unleashed gush after gush of thick gooey white sperm deep into his helpless daughter's anus. The warm, thick fluid flooded her ravaged inner walls, mixing with her tears and the sounds of her suffering, filling her to the brim.

With a wet, tearing sound, Rudy pulled out, leaving Kristy’s anus gaping wide and pulsed open, a cavernous hole of torn, abused flesh. The sheer volume of the mixture of sperm, fluids, and blood poured out in a thick, warm stream, dripping down her inner thighs and pooling on the floor, a grotesque display of the violence just endured.

Her torn anus was a gaping, bruised mess of swollen, angry flesh. The edges were bright red and swollen, glistening with the mix of his seed and her tears, pulsed visibly with every ragged breath she took, hanging open as a dark, wet tunnel of trauma that refused to close, leaking the remnants of the violation onto her legs. He could see deep into her anus, the pink, raw flesh of the inner walls clamping down weakly around nothingness, glistening with the mixture of fluids. The entire channel was a stark, angry red, stretched and abused, throbbing as if to reject the reality of the intrusion.

He turned on his heel and moved to the front of the stockade. The air in the basement was heavy with the scent of sex, sweat, and the copper tang of blood. He loomed over Kristy, blocking out the light, his shadow falling across her tear streaked face. His hand shot out, fingers tangling roughly into the red, damp hair at the crown of her head. He didn't hold back. He yanked back with sudden, violent force, twisting her scalp painfully and lifting her neck off the wooden block until her jaw was forced wide open, exposing the pale, trembling skin of her throat.

She gasped, her eyes widening in a plea for mercy that he ignored completely. With a sneer that twisted his features into something predatory and cruel, he grabbed his own erection. It was a throbbing mass of red, swollen veins, smeared with the thick, white fluids of his earlier orgasm. It was undeniably dirty, coated in the residue of his own release and her anus residue. Without a word of warning, he forced the head of his prick past her trembling lips, grinding it against her gums.

He didn't stop there. He used the grip on her hair like a handle, forcing his hips forward with savage determination. The flared head of his cock breached the tight seal of her mouth, forcing her jaw open wider than it was meant to go, stretching the delicate skin around her lips until it throbbed.

She gagged violently, a fierce retching sound bubbling in her throat as her stomach tried to reject the invasive horror of her father’s cock. She thrashed her head frantically, pulling against the grip in her hair, trying to dislodge the obscene length of cock that was stretching her jaw and choking her. Her lips were pressed painfully thin around the penis, flushed a deep, abused red, as she sobbed around the intrusion, unable to spit or swallow, forced to choke on the evidence of the violation she had just endured.

He groaned low in his throat as he drove deeper, the thick shaft plowing past the back of her tongue and bumping against the soft, yielding roof of her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming for her. It was salty, bitter, and gross. She gagged constantly, tears spilling over onto her cheeks as she struggled against the taste of her own anus.