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European Nightmare Part I
, winner of the Jan/Feb 2017 Story Contest! The Mar/Apr Story Contest entries are in! Please
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Topic: European Nightmare Part I (Read 1887 times)
European Nightmare Part I
May 03, 2015, 05:30:02 PM »
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. Contains adult themes. The author does not condone any of the actions depicted in this work. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or find it difficult to distinguish between fantasy and reality.
I intend for this to be a long story, and so the beginning is a little slow, but I hope you will read it, just to set the scene. As this is my first story I would greatly appreciate any feedback whatsoever, any suggestions or ideas for the continuation of the story or the characters would also be much appreciated. My email address is
and please feel free to get in touch. Enjoy.
Olivia smiled as she stared into man’s exotic brown eyes, only half listening as he spoke. She was lost in her own world, mesmerised by how he looked at her as if she were the only girl in the world. He was talking to them all, his eyes taking in each one so his look was only a few moments. But it felt like hours. Olivia couldn’t remember why they were here or how they had started talking to him but it didn’t seem to matter. Her classmates, the trip, her studies and especially the time were all forgotten, so engrossed was she by his stories and his astonishingly handsome face. She couldn’t help but play with her hair as she stared at his light brown features, his chiselled jaw, his big brown eyes, and looking down, his bulging biceps and t-shirt worn stretched to its limit. Biting her lip slightly, she imagined what was underneath, thoughts of spending the night with him fluttering through her head. She was not alone either. All three girls were entranced by the mysterious man.
They were quite a sight too. Their coach had arrived in Munich for a few days on a two week school trip taking in the sights and culture of Germany. Given some free time, the three 18 year olds were exploring the city before going on to Berlin. Sitting in front of the man, Olivia was a relatively small girl, just a shade over 5 foot, but her lack of height did not make her any less attractive. Hanging just below her shoulders, her blonde hair set off her large blue eyes perfectly. She was beautiful with a face that could go from innocent to sexy in the blink of an eye, a mouth always ready to break into a broad smile. Her infectious personality and her cheeky sense of humour made her popular with both men and women. Men of course loved her good looks and body. She kept in shape playing casual sport and her body was fit and firm without being muscular. Her breasts were a full C cup although on her small frame they looked much bigger. Coupled with her petite arse, she always got men’s interest, particularly this evening when she wore shorts which showed off her shapely legs. She was attractive and knew it, often using it to get what she wanted from boys, earning her a reputation as a bit of a tease. But she enjoyed sex even if she kept it discreet. Few people knew what she got up to. As she leaned forward, her loose fitting top hung down, tantalising him with a glimpse of her substantial cleavage, and she wondered if tonight was the night for a holiday romance.
On her left sat Lucy, at 5’10 the tallest of the three and different to Olivia in every way. Her long black hair was worn back in a ponytail,
wing off her high cheekbones, piercing green eyes and inviting blowjob lips. If Olivia had the face of a cheeky though gorgeous girl next door, Lucy’s model good looks were much harsher, giving her a superior air she liked to play up to. Though she too was popular, she didn’t have the same universal appeal as her friend though men’s interest was much more frank. She was known to fuck a lot, usually with older confident men, and disdained the drooling boys her own age. Her height was accentuated by long legs which seemed to go on forever and her small breasts still had enough cleavage for the whole package. As an accomplished cross-country runner she was very fit and her round tight arse highlighted her sex appeal. She had already shagged two different men this trip and the attentions of this stranger were more than welcome.
The third girl was Holly whose angelic innocent face and shortish brown hair made her seem some three or four years younger. But anyone seeing her chest knew she was a woman. Even on her 5’7 frame, her Fs looked huge, perfectly symmetrical and without a hint of sag. But Holly refused to show them off, hiding her considerable assets under sweatshirts and loose clothes. It didn’t avoid the leers, particularly from younger boys at school who often looked in the windows of the sixth form common room to glimpse her much coveted breasts. Given her large bust she worked hard to keep her figure. Playing in the same hockey team as Olivia and spending time in the gym gave her a beautiful hourglass figure, making her cover-up even more frustrating. The loose fitting dress she wore that day was one of her most revealing, showing off her legs although still keeping her chest well covered. Despite her excellent body, Holly’s embarrassment at the size of her breasts plus her natural shyness meant she didn’t have much luck with men. Though she didn’t consider herself a prude and was perfectly happy to talk about sex even with boys, her belief that they only wanted one thing meant she was still a virgin. But tonight, out with her closest friends and with this gorgeous man in front of her, she contemplated changing that.
Olivia sipped her drink, listening intently to the man talk in a thick European accent while thinking about the body she imagined under his thin t-shirt. It wasn’t the first bar the girls had been in that night but they decided it looked nice and sophisticated, and in a city they did not know they thought it wise to stay on the main street. Lucy immediately started flirting with the barman, a dark handsome chap who looked very flattered by her attention. Waiting with Holly for their drinks, Olivia looked around trying to spot anyone interesting or handsome. When she saw him she couldn’t take her eyes away and when he looked back, had blushed uncontrollably. When he came over and introduced himself she barely contained herself, covering it by her natural bounciness but accepting gladly when he offered to buy drinks and invited them to his table. Unsurprisingly, it was Olivia, the most talkative of the girls, who ascertained his name (Mehmet), his age (25), his nationality (Turkish) and how long he had lived in Munich (3 years). Since he was a stranger, she knew they must be careful about how much they told him but his relaxed attitude and rugged good looks put her at ease. She had told him more than she thought wise but nothing dangerous. That first drink, not their first of the night, was followed by a second and after half an hour of conversation, Olivia started to feel both more drunk and more certain about the night to come.
“Hey,” she said, interrupting him, “I need to go to the toilet, ok?”
“Yes, yes,” Mehmet replied, “I will get more drinks?”
“No,” Lucy replied almost sternly, “we’ll get them when we get back.”
“Ah, smart girl. I am stranger after all.”
“Ok,” Olivia had been about to accept the offer but was grateful her friend was more sensible, “see you soon!” The girls went to the toilet and Mehmet sat back with his beer and took a long drink. He then pulled out his phone and began to type.
In the toilets, the girls took stock of what had already been a good evening. “I’m going to shag him,” Lucy stated flatly, not even breaking into a smile as she adjusted her make-up in the mirror.
“You’ll have to fight us off,” Olivia laughed as she came out of a cubicle.
“No problem,” Lucy, turning to face her friend, “or…?”
“You mean…” Olivia hesitated, making sure they were on the same page, “both of us?”
“Both,” Lucy smiled, “or all three? Holly?”
“Well,” came her voice from a cubicle, “when in Rome.”
“Haha, go Hols!”
“We could see if he has a friend,” Lucy suggested, “so none of us get bored ...?”
“How would we get them into the hotel?” asked Olivia, still not entertaining the idea entirely seriously, “I’m not sneaking out.”
“Such a swot,” Lucy said with faux disdain.
“Slut.” Holly replied, emerging from the cubicle.
“We’ll just go back out and see what happens, girls. Could be a night to remember!”
Waiting for them to return, Mehmet contemplated his luck. He was often in this bar looking for girls and he didn’t have much trouble finding and fucking them. His eastern charm, good looks and sculpted body meant he had the pick of women in Munich’s bars. But as he ran his hand through his dark tousled hair, he thought about what he had found that night. Three drop dead gorgeous English girls who all seemed up for a good time, not in Munich long and each finding him very attractive. They were younger than the girls he usually met but he’d enjoyed speaking to them, particularly the blonde. He was even more looking forward to fucking them given how different they were, from the quirky little blonde to the leggy sultry one and finally the shy one with very big tits. Sending a quick text, he signalled the barman who gave him a thumbs up and stood when he saw his targets returning.
After another 45 minutes, Olivia felt very drunk. It was a bit strange since she’d only had two more drinks but she was still enjoying herself. She could tell Lucy felt it too, her usual sexy and sultry demeanour replaced by a much happier giddier girl who flirted outrageously with the barman who’d come over to join them. Coming out of her shell, Holly was talking to Mehmet. Indeed, they were all having a good time and so Olivia forgot her unease, finished her drink and rejoined the conversation.
“Shit,” Holly exclaimed, “we have to….to…be back.”
“Back where?” Olivia replied, feeling equally disorientated.
“Nah, we can stay a bit,” Lucy said as she broke off from the barman who was busy touching her hair and whispering in her ear.
“No, Lucy!” Olivia shouted so much louder than she thought that people on adjacent tables turned round to look, “otherwise Miss…..Miss…Wallig will…”
“Wallace!” Holly seemed proud to have corrected her friend.
“Hey, girls,” Mehmet said, coherent despite his broken English, “we get you taxi.”
“No, no, we want to stay,” Lucy pleaded though her eyes seemed glazed.
“No, we get you into hotel,” Mehmet stated authoritatively, “maybe after, we meet you, yes?”
“Ok, baby,” Lucy winked then suddenly stopped, as if realising how drunk she was.
Mehmet and the barman helped the girls into a car waiting outside. If the girls had not been so out of it they would have seen that this was not a taxi but a luxury car with blacked out windows and certainly would not have got in, especially with two strange men. But they could barely support themselves as they were pushed into the car. Unable to sit straight, Olivia rested her face against the leather seats, a strand of saliva running down her cheek. By now they all couldn’t move and neither Lucy nor Olivia noticed when Holly was literally thrown on top of them. Closing the door, the two men got in the front, started the car and drove off into the night.
Olivia’s head pounded and she barely remembered anything from last night. Her last memory was sitting in the bar with her friends…and that strange man. When she tried wetting her dry mouth, she felt what seemed a large piece of plastic and, failing to spit it out, suddenly began to panic. She opened her eyes but everything was pitch black and when she tried moving her arms, all she heard was a clinking sound above her. Increasingly panicked, she tried moving her legs but they were tied together … and not touching anything. And she couldn’t move her hands, hearing the same clinking sound with every movement. Now she really panicked. She tried screaming but could only make a muffled whine. Again she screamed, again a muffled whine … and that clinking sound. Her head still pounding, Olivia stopped to think about her situation. She could not remember anything after the bar, anything after that man. Maybe she was at his house, maybe she was safe, just so hung-over she could barely move? Maybe this was a dream she would shortly wake from?
Then she heard another muffled whimper to her right, accompanied by clinking. Listening intently, she again heard the rattle of metal on metal and a stifled moan. She responded in kind, hoping to communicate with whoever made the sound. Then in a moment of silence, as Olivia’s mouth and throat began to burn, she heard another moan to her left and suddenly a terrible thought occurred to her. She had heard two distinct sounds, one on either side. Given her last memories of the night before and the people she was with, she had a truly awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Suddenly there was a creak and the sound of echoing footsteps. A small chink of light momentarily allowed Olivia to glimpse her surroundings, not enough to see much but enough to let her know this was really happening. Gradually the footsteps resolved into more than one pair of feet and different types of shoes, growing louder and more directional until she knew they were coming toward her. Olivia held her breath, as if by remaining perfectly still she could avoid whatever terror was before her. A few tense moments of silence. Then...
The sudden sound cut through Olivia as much as the blinding light that appeared a moment later. Having been in pitch blackness, even this moderately bright light almost blinded her and she took a moment to get used to it. When she finally did, she opened her eyes … and her heart sank.
The room’s contents filled Olivia with panic. The light didn’t illuminate much of the room, which looked huge despite the dark shadows in the corners. What she could see terrified her. To her right, just in front and facing slightly inwards was Holly. Though dressed in the same loose summer dress and sandals of the night before, she was hanging by her wrists from a chain attached to a large hook in the ceiling, her wrists and ankles tied together with a thick white rope, her feet hovering just inches off the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto her dress just above her breasts, leaving her usual joyful brown eyes that Olivia loved so much a pained red. In her mouth a large red ball gag stretched her jaw obscenely wide. Feeling it as the same thing in her mouth, Olivia knew the discomfort her friend felt. Turning her head, she saw Lucy in the same position, wearing the same plunging dress from the bar but her usual sultry eyes now puzzled and frightened. In the rest of the room was all sorts of apparatus, equipment, toys and devices. Standing out most was what looked like a modified wooden rocking horse, a device she recognised as a rack, a heavy wooden table with metal rings and stirrups upon which a car battery sat, and in a partly visible rack, a collection of whips. Her eyes shocked wide, Olivia couldn’t even begin to guess what other horrors existed in the dark corners of the room but she had never been so scared. She hung her head, staring at the floor in front of her … and saw the tip of a pair of shoes.
From the size of the black leather boots that rose steadily up her legs, criss-crossed with laces, in front of her was a woman. Just above the boots were fishnet stockings, held up by a pair of leather suspenders. Nothing covered the woman’s genitals, her pussy being entirely visible, a thin triangle of fine blonde hair pointing into it. The woman’s navel was displayed under a tight leather corset done up from the back which pushed her breasts together to form a very meagre cleavage. Rising from prominent collar bones, her long neck held the harshest and most unforgiving face Olivia had ever seen. With cheekbones so sharp they could cut, a small thin nose and almost snarling pursed mouth, her face showed no emotion. Her eyes caught Olivia’s attention. They were relatively narrow but a bright brilliant green. And emotionless, so cold and unforgiving they looked dead. Even as they flitted from one hanging girl to the next, Olivia still felt her piercing stare. Looking late 30s, the woman was obviously older than the girls but still strikingly attractive without being beautiful, her wrinkles reduced by hair pulled back tightly into a bun at the back of her head. In her hand she carried a long thin black riding crop. On either side stood Mehmet and the bartender from the bar. Heavy set and tall, both wore black shirts and black trousers with shiny black shoes, and had the same expressionless face. Though the men were easily bigger than her, the woman’s green eyes set against her pale skin and the black she was wearing sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. The woman stood for what seemed an eternity before speaking.
“Hello, girls. My name is Greta Schweinberg. Welcome to my home.”
She spoke deliberately as if savouring every word, in an obviously European and probably German accent but with almost an American twang, taking long pauses between each sentence and looking each girl in the eye several times.
“You have met my friends, Mehmet and Hasan. They saw you in the bar in Munich and liked you. They thought I would like you so they spiked your drinks and brought you here. I must say they were right. I do like you. I am sure I will enjoy you.”
This last sentence elicited a whimper from all three girls. Till now they had clung to a faint hope that this was a dream or at the very least a horrible practical joke. But hearing this woman speak, every word dripping like venom, made it all too real.
“You belong to me now. I will do whatever I want with you. I will hurt you. I will abuse you. I will let Mehmet and Hasan fuck you until you cannot take anymore. Then they will fuck you again. You will learn to do whatever I want you to. If I tell you to suck their dicks, you will do it. If I tell you to lick my cunt, you will do it. If I tell you to torture your friend, you will do it. Failure to obey will have more serious consequences than you can possibly imagine.”
All three girls were now crying. The woman did not react to her sobbing property. Her vulgar words emphasised the monster standing before them and how much trouble they were in. Her English was practised, impeccable and spoken so chillingly that even Mehmet and Hasan were stunned. With no emotion at all, she continued
“Learning your place will take time. You are English. Arrogant. Soft. You do not know how to behave. That will not be tolerated. You will learn self control. Discipline. You will learn how to please both men and women. Learning will be hard. It will hurt. You will feel pain you cannot imagine. Even if you behave I may still hurt you. I enjoy it. Mehmet and Hasan enjoy it. They are Turkish. They hate Western women. You will call me mistress and them your masters. Welcome to Schweinberg Castle.”
For a moment, Greta allowed the girls to take in what she’d said. Olivia’s head was swimming and not just from the night before. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. They had been kidnapped by this woman merely to be hurt. She had read about this in newspapers and seen horror films but had never imagined it happening to her on a school trip with her best friends. But she didn’t get much time to think about it.
“We’ll start with the blonde.”
Mehmet and Hasan moved forward. Hasan grabbed Holly and pushed her back, the hook obviously on some kind of rail, until she was behind Olivia. Olivia noticed that he pushed her from the front, against her breasts. When Mehmet did likewise with Lucy, Olivia was left hanging by herself, the woman staring at her menacingly. When the two Turks returned to her side, Greta just looked intently then nodded. Pulling a flick knife, Mehmet walked toward Olivia whose eyes opened wide, her screams stifled by the ball gag. Hasan walked behind her and pushed her forward on the rail toward the woman then turned her round so she could see her friends looking at her. Bringing the knife up to her face, Mehmet brushed it against her cheek, the cold steel making her flinch. He smiled, tracing the knife slowly down her face, following its contours, down her neck and onto her chest. He paused then brought the knife down quickly, parting the front of her vest to reveal a plain white bra and the cleavage she had cheekily flaunted the night before. Mehmet winked at her and pulled off the fabric, tearing the shoulders away easily and letting it fall to the floor. Bringing the knife above her breasts, he traced the outline of her bra with the tip then, pointing it down between her breasts, traced down her cleavage till it hooked beneath the fabric of her bra. When he pulled the knife towards him, her bra parted like the Red Sea, the cups falling to either side, her breasts bouncing into view. Looking huge on her small frame, they hung perfectly, topped by small perfectly centred pale nipples erect with fear. Both men’s mouths opened a fraction as they saw her assets for the first time though Mehmet couldn’t help but steal a glance at Holly. Cutting the shoulder straps left her bra crumpled in the same pile as her top. Moving his free hand underneath her left breast
as if weighing it
, he squeezed,
bounced it up and down as if getting used to how it felt. All the while, he used the knife tip in his right hand to toy with her other nipple, pressing the blade against it without cutting the skin.
“Play with them later, Mehmet,” the woman snapped, “let me see the rest of her.”
Reluctantly moving his hands from her tits, he traced the knife tip down her toned stomach, enjoying how each muscle flinched away from the metal. Meanwhile Hasan pulled out one side of the denim shorts Olivia wore, creating space between her hip and the fabric. Tracing the knife into the gap, Mehmet sliced through the garment, making surprisingly short work of even the thick denim. Teaming up again, they cut the other side so that only the crotch of the shorts sandwiched between Olivia’s bound legs kept it on her body. Slipping his thumb beneath the hem of the shorts and just grazing the top of Olivia’s pussy through her underwear, he then tugged hard forward. The coarse fabric ripped across the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and Olivia squealed as her legs exploded in pain. The men smiled as they heard her muffled whimper, letting the ruined garment drop to the floor with the rest of her clothes. Only her white underwear now gave her any privacy, her tits already bare for all to see. Once again she felt the cold knife against her skin and when Mehmet made short work of her underwear and pulled it through her legs, she again whimpered as the fabric scraped her sore inner thighs. Now Olivia was naked save for her shoes, all her charms on display, her breasts, her legs, her stomach, her arse and just the top of her pussy, in front of her friends, these two strange brutes and that woman.
“Move!” Greta cracked the crop against her leather boots in emphasis. Promptly moving behind her, the men’s eyes never left the girl’s limp nude body. “Let’s see what I’m working with.” Greta moved toward Olivia who kept her head down the entire time, bringing the riding crop to her face and tapping her chin as if to demand that she look at her. Olivia was too scared to defy her and looked straight into the woman’s eyes. Greta was very impressed. The girl was naturally beautiful, not using too much make up like so many women did these days. As she moved the riding crop down her breasts and onto her stomach, she could tell she took care of her body. Greta moved to inspect the rear of her new toy, her boots echoing on the hard stone floor, her crop trailing across Olivia’s soft skin. The view from behind was just as good. Though small, Olivia’s legs were slender, topped by a beautiful peachy round arse. Greta smiled as she tapped each cheek with her crop then brought it down hard on Olivia’s right arse cheek. Despite the gag, her scream was very clear, making all three kidnappers smile and the other girls whimper.
“Just a little taster,” Greta smirked as she moved a little closer, touching the developing red mark. Trailing her hand slowly across the girl’s cheeks, her long sharp nails just grazing the skin, she then ran her index finger down the cleft of Olivia’s buttocks, pushing her hand through the girl’s legs until she felt her pussy. Running her finger up and down the lips a few times, she enjoyed how her muscles tightened as she went close to her opening. Moving to the front, tracing her long nails across the girl as she did so, Greta traced up towards the girls breasts using just the tips of the fingers on her right hand. Olivia flinched again as Greta played with her nipple, rolling the sensitive little bud between her thumb and forefinger. While her right hand toyed with the nipple, Greta tossed her riding crop aside and ran the fingers of her left hand up Olivia’s legs toward her pussy, rubbing up and down her opening and making sure to use her sharp nails on the sensitive flesh. As she slipped a finger into Olivia’s hole, she flicked her nipple with her right hand, catching the flesh with her finger tips. Olivia moaned in a mixture of shame and pain as this woman did whatever she wanted to her. The invasion of her pussy was almost unbearable and the scratching of its sensitive walls made it worse. Greta pulled out and ran her fingers to Olivia’s clit, toying with it just as she toyed with her nipple, before abruptly stopping.
“Very nice,” Greta snapped, “very nice indeed. Mehmet tells me you like to talk, Olivia. You will not talk yet. You will see what you are good for. All you are good for. From now on, all you do is please us. I am sure you will be very good at it. Now boys, who’s fucking this one?”
Mehmet looked at Hasan, both knowing that whoever found the girls went first. While Mehmet undressed, Hasan went to Olivia with a knife. Seeing him coming, she knew she was about to get fucked and tried desperately to move away, the chain above her clinking. But there was no escaping even his one-handed grip on her legs as he cut the rope binding her ankles. With her legs free Olivia tried to kick but he was too strong and her struggles only created a thin film of sweat that made her body glisten in the dim light. Meanwhile Mehmet had stripped to his underwear and Olivia looked up just in time to see his cock. Her eyes widened when she saw its size, springing up as he pulled down the waistband. It was at least 9” long and almost as thick as her wrist. She’d had sex before and was used to the feel of a cock inside her but knew she had never had anything like this. As he approached, Hasan went behind and pressed his body against hers, moving his hands between her legs and yanking them outwards with surprising force, splaying them wide and displaying her cunt to everyone in the room. She blushed with shame as she saw Mehmet looking at it, a smirk on his face, her friends hanging their heads in shame for their friend. All the while the woman’s penetrating stare looked straight through her. Mehmet came closer, the tip of his circumcised cock centimetres from her hole. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out what was about to happen. He slapped her.
“No, pretty baby,” he smiled as he said it, “you look at me.” He held his dick in his hand, precum dripping from its end. Looking up at him, she thought back to the night before when she had thought excitedly about what was underneath his shirt. She had been right, he had an almost perfect body, abs perfectly defined, chest and shoulders strong, arms the stuff of a girl’s dreams. But now all that muscle was terrifying and the glint in his eyes as he looked into hers caused tears, not lust.
“Don’t cry,” he said, moving one hand up to her left breast and slowly squeezing it, “we are going to have the fun.” With his right hand he began to massage her pussy, as if trying to get her ready for him but he didn’t try too hard. He really wanted her to be dry for this one. Although it might be a bit painful for him, it would be worse for her. This first fuck was to show her what she was in for, what her life would be like now. The more it hurt the better.
“MMMMPHHH,” Olivia tried to plead with her eyes and a muffled whine but he was not interested.
“OK,” came the reply, “just me.” With that he moved his cock to her cunt, the tip resting just inside. Hasan held her legs open in a loose grip the whole time, staying firmly behind her to give Mehmet something to fuck against and get deeper into her.
With that, Mehmet rammed home. Olivia was shocked by the brutality of the thrust. There was no easing in, no foreplay. In one thrust his shaft was entirely buried in her pussy. She felt its full force as well. Hasan was so strong he hadn’t budged an inch on impact and the power of the man’s thrust went straight up her dry hole. He held it there for a moment, savouring the feel of her tight young cunt then pulled out, rasping her walls again. Withdrawing until just the tip was inside, he slammed forward again. When Olivia closed her eyes, he put his mouth to her tit and bit her nipple hard.
“Look at me, bitch.” Olivia stared into her rapist’s eyes as he pulled out and thrust in again. His cock was the biggest she’d ever had, insistently prodding her cervix and making her feel too full. And without lubrication, her hole stretched to its limit, his cock felt like fiery sandpaper rubbing her pussy raw, alight with pain. So although she kept looking at him, her tears stopped her from seeing his face. As he plunged into her again and again, she could scarcely believe the charming man from last night was now treating her as nothing more than a piece of meat.
“Good, Mehmet,” came the emotionless voice, “make it hurt.”
Mehmet picked up the pace of his thrusts, pounding into her like a sledgehammer. The lack of lube made each thrust painful for him but his pain was nothing compared to the girl’s. It was not the first time he had done this and his enjoyment of a girl’s pain was one reason he was in this position now. He savoured the tears rolling down Olivia’s cheeks as he pounded in and out of her, her breasts bouncing wildly up and down with each thrust. Then he grabbed a tit with one hand, kneading it roughly, sinking his fingers into her flesh as he pounded in and out of her. And with the other, he pinched her nipple tightly, pulling it away from her chest.
Olivia was in so much pain. The piston pounding her pussy felt it would set her on fire and if it didn’t do that, that it would burrow right through her. Her back ached from being slammed against Hasan who stood unmoving throughout the rape. Now Mehmet turned his attention to her breasts, painfully mauling the right one and tugging so hard on her left that she thought it might rip off. When she felt wetness inside her, she thought for a moment her body had betrayed her. But she soon realised this was not the case. That she was now bleeding panicked her even more. She could tell from Mehmet’s satisfaction that he knew what had happened as well.
“She is bleeding,” Mehmet crowed with unmistakable pride.
“No, no, she has had cock before.”
“Good boy,” Greta barely acknowledged this new information, “don’t stop.”
Knowing how much pain he was causing spurred Mehmet on. He wanted to do more than hurt. He wanted to humiliate her. And so the hand tugging her nipple moved up to her head, stroking her cheek delicately as if making love to her for real. Moving his hand behind her head, he pushed it toward him until their faces were mere centimetres apart then leaned in and kissed her, first on her mouth, the ball gag still in and protruding, and then on top of her head as if they really were lovers. All the time his cock drove into her, showing no mercy. Placing his forehead against hers, he held for a second and then, his fingers wrapped in her soft blonde hair, pulled back hard.
The pain of having her hair pulled and her head snapped back was almost a relief for Olivia since for a split second she didn’t have to look at him. She could scarcely believe this was happening and were it not for the burning pain in her pussy and tits she might have tried convincing herself it was a dream. But it was real. She was shocked that somebody got so much pleasure from her pain, how her rapist acted so tender to tease her, emphasising how far the reality was from her fantasy of the night before. But her relief was short lived as her head was jerked back to face him.
Mehmet knew he was getting close and he pushed her head down to look into her eyes as he came. Thrusting deep into her cunt, pushing as far in as he could, he felt his whole body twitch as wave after wave of cum shot into her womb. Holding her head close to his as the last strands of semen shot out of his cock and into her abused cunt, he winked at her then pulled out his softening dick, a pink trail of blood and cum connecting them. He milked his last remaining jizz onto the outside of her pussy, savouring the juice pouring out of her hole and onto the pile of clothes beneath her. Picking up the shred of cloth that was once Olivia’s bra, he wiped the mess off his now limp cock before tapping her cheek, pinching her nipple and bouncing her breast up and down a little, before walking back behind Greta. Hasan promptly dropped Olivia like a sack of potatoes, her shoulders almost wrenching out of their sockets as her arms once again took all her weight. He too then stood behind the German.
“Well done, Mehmet,” speaking in the same emotionless voice she had the whole time, she turned toward Olivia, “do you think she enjoyed that?”
“No,” Mehmet replied with a smile, “but I did.”
“I’m sure you did,” Now she spoke directly to the girl, “and I’m glad you didn’t. If you think that was bad, you have a lot to learn. Look at me when I speak to you!” This last was accompanied by a heavy slap that set Olivia’s face on fire. She had almost been in a trance since her rape so as not to think about what had happened but the stinging power of the blow brought her round immediately and she desperately tried to look at the woman despite the stars dancing in her eyes.
“I hope you now realise you are no longer who you thought you were. No longer Olivia. No longer a pretty cheeky little English who does what she wants. You do not control your own body. You do nothing without my permission. You do not speak. You do not piss. You do not shit. You do not cum. Not without my permission. The only reason you breathe is because I allow it. Is that understood?”
Olivia was too shocked to even nod her head. Still reeling from the blow, this speech would have started her crying if she had any tears left. But she knew she had agree or the consequence would be even more severe. Slowly, meekly, she nodded. “Good,” Greta lightly tapped the same cheek she had struck with such force, “soon we’ll take that out of your mouth and you can address me properly. But not yet.”
She turned and strode back to the two men. The purpose with which she walked was chilling especially since her voice hadn’t changed at all. Greta had of course enjoyed watching Mehmet rape Olivia. She knew what the girl had thought besides the pain of the fucking. It was a shock that the kind gentle man she had met would rape her so brutally, that the man she had thought to have sex with, who she would quite readily have given herself to, had taken such pleasure in causing her pain. It was the first of many, many enjoyable steps on the road to breaking these girls. But Greta wouldn’t rush, she would take her time, savouring every moment of pain she and the men inflicted on their new toys. She whispered something in Hasan’s ear and he nodded.
“Then hang her back up, we’ve got much more to do.”
Hasan and Mehmet moved toward Olivia who tried to back away. But this time the men seemed more relaxed, less intimidating. They completely ignored Olivia as she tried to move her legs away, acting as if she were only an object they had to move. First Mehmet took off her shoes, her last remaining item of clothing, then they took the rope binding her wrists off the hook above her and put her on the floor. Working quickly, they cut the rope binding her wrists, pulled her arms down and bound her wrists together behind her back. Mehmet then tied her heels together, bent her legs back until her heels touched her wrists and then tied her wrists and legs to each other. Meanwhile Hasan tied some rope around her stomach before tying the loose end to her hands and feet, leaving a small loop at the end. Tying the girl’s hair into a pony tail, he then tied it to the knot in the middle. They then lifted Olivia up and put the loop round the hook, leaving her suspended in the air. It had taken less than a minute.
Olivia couldn’t believe how quickly she had been brought down, tied up and hung back up by the two men. Nor could she believe their callousness, treating her like a joint of meat in a butcher’s shop. Her legs and arms were tightly tied behind her back and try as she might she couldn’t move. Her head had been tied back so she could only look up, her face pointed straight at Greta. The only relief was the rope around her midriff which took the strain off her shoulders for the first time. So skilful was the binding that her body was perfectly parallel to the ground with her breasts hanging beneath her. Greta pushed her slightly to check her bonds, flicked her nipples a few times and then strode back to the other girls.
“Ok then,” again she spoke in the same tone, “who’s next?”
Last Edit: November 29, 2015, 10:20:18 AM by JoshuaJones
Re: European Nightmare Part I
Reply #1 on:
October 26, 2015, 06:37:29 AM »
Dude. If you ever come back, please bless us with a paragraph or two. There's no way to read this, sadly....
"A cock is potentially an offensive weapon. If used correctly."
Re: European Nightmare Part I
Reply #2 on:
October 27, 2015, 07:35:27 AM »
Sorry about this, don't know how this happened here. I'll do a new thread that is actually legible now!
Re: European Nightmare Part I
Reply #3 on:
October 27, 2015, 07:42:31 AM »
Thanks mate. I look forward to reading it. 😀
"A cock is potentially an offensive weapon. If used correctly."
Re: European Nightmare Part I
Reply #4 on:
November 29, 2015, 10:20:49 AM »
Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy reading this first installment, there's plenty more to come!
Rape Fantasy Stories
European Nightmare Part I
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