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Offline EssenceofRed

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I wake up with a gasp and immediately sit straight up, not knowing where I am or how I got here. My heart is pounding so fast it feels like it's going to escape my chest. I don't have my shoes on. Only socks. It takes me only a moment for my eyes to adjust enough to see into the deep corners of this cold, damp, barely lit basement. I'm frantically scanning the entire room for some clue as to where I am when I see him. A man in his 40's sitting still in the shadows not 15 feet from me. My eyes lock onto his and his mouth turns up in a grin, showing black spots where he's missing teeth. I freeze like a deer in headlights. He looks filthy. He's wearing coveralls with no shirt, and a trucker cap on the top of his greasy hair. He moves quickly to the stairs, yelling as he runs up, "Pa! Paaaw!! She's awake!", slamming the door behind him.

I am trembling in fear as my head jerks around, looking for a way out. The cement walls and floor are covered in grime and mildew. There is one, small, opaque window covered with decades of dirt that barely lights the space around me, and the ceiling is masked in beams, old pipes, and cobwebs. There are three chairs and a long, wooden table on the other side of the room. I move to stand, but I'm caught on something. My hand… There's rope around my right wrist and it's connected to a pipe a couple feet away. I turn to the pipe and quickly try to untie the knots. I can hear mumblings of at least two men upstairs above me, maybe more. I refuse to think about why they would want to hold a young woman captive down in the basement of some old, dingy house. If I did, it would only paralyze me, and right now I need to concentrate.

I hear footsteps walking across the floor above me toward the door at the top of the steps, and I know I need to untie myself faster. "Oohh Beauuu-tifuuuulll….," a much older man with a long, white beard sings in a gravelly voice at me as he comes down the creaky stairs. My fingers are shaking so hard, they are too clumsy to get a good enough grasp on the knot. I'm whimpering in frustration, my eyes filling with tears, knowing I have no chance of getting away. "Pretty giiiiir-rrrlll," he still calls in a singing tone, walking closer to me, "Why won't you look at me?" His voice is calm and raspy.

"Come on, COME ON…", I'm whispering under my breath, as if that will help me untie the knots any faster.

I can practically feel how close he is and flinch just before he yanks on my hair. He pulls so hard, I yelp as I fall back toward him. My tied arm, outstretched behind me while he pulls me away from the pipe. He's holding my hair tightly, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

"Such a trusting girl… wanting to be helpful… it was just sooo niiiice of you."

Wanting to be helpful… Suddenly the memory of what happened is all flooding back. I was on my way home from work after closing when I came across this old man's truck in the middle of the road. A dead deer lying in front of the headlights, and the hood of the truck wide open. I remember stopping because he looked friendly, like Santa Claus with his beard and flannel red shirt. But the moment I got out of my car, I starting to get an uneasy feeling. It was at that moment when someone grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth and nose with a cloth that made me black out.

"Please, let me go. I won't tell anyone! I promise!," I beg in a frightened, half crying, pleading voice.

He chuckles at me, seemingly delighted with how nervous I am about the predicament in which I've found myself. "Oh no, my dear. We have plans for you." He winks at me and smiles as he lets go of my hair, turning to walk away. He reaches up and yanks on the small chain connected to a single lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling that lights up the room, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the reddish brown stains on the floor that run from the table to the drain in the floor. What the FUCK is this place?!  Suddenly I am much more terrified at the idea of being tortured and murdered, opposed to my imminent rape.

"Stand up." He walks back toward me to look me over. "Do you have any tattoos? Tell me now!"

"No, I don't!" Jesus, why does that even matter?!

"If you're lyin', I'll cut off yer fingers."

"I'm not! I swear!!"

"Good. Only sluts have tattoos. We need you to be pure."

Holy shit! My mind is spinning. This is worse than my worst nightmare!

I'm still standing there, too afraid to move as he pokes and prods me like a piece of livestock he's examining.

"My name is Samuel. You've met my sons - John, a little while ago, and well, you never saw George," alluding that he was the one who grabbed me.

"Will I ever get to go home?", I ask in a small voice.

"Not likely." And with that, he points to the bucket, "That's your pisser. Now try to stay clean."

"No… no… No!… NO!… WAIT!!," I scream after him as he heads back up the stairs. "Let me go!! HELP ME!!  PLEASE…. SOMEBODY!! LET ME GOOOO!!" I scream and sob myself horse all night until I ultimately pass out from exhaustion.

The next morning I wake up startled, realizing the same toothless man from the night before is sitting across from me. Watching me while I sleep.

"John likes you. John can't wait to touch you… smell you…" He slinks over next to me and I curl up in a ball against the wall. He puts his hand on my leg and begins to pet me. He's inching his way closer to me, trying to touch my breasts, but I keep moving and pushing his hand away until he finally gets through. It's awkward and weird as he touches me, as if I'm a thing and not a person. I start to cry again. I can't believe this is actually happening.

"JOHNNY! You're not suppose to touch that girl yet! It's not time!" I don't know this voice. He must be George. He must have heard me. John recoils his hand at his brother's threatening voice, but he still remains close to me.

George has a commanding stature. Tall. Big boned. And the most 'normal' seeming of them all. He walks briskly toward us as if he's about to pull John away, but then he stops. He kneels down next to me and reaches for my hair, flashing a sneering smile.

"You are very pretty, aren't you. Your hair is so soft…"

The two men are saying lewd and disgusting things, touching me. They slowly try to push me down so my back is against the floor. They hold me down as they try to lift up my shirt, even though I have the hem in my grasp, trying to keep it down at my waist.

This struggle doesn't go on long before Samuel marches downstairs and tears both brothers away from me. "Tomorrow night is Christmas Eve. You will wait until then. You may not be down here until it's time. You understand me? Huh?! Now GIT!" He makes a motion as if he's about to strike his adult sons, and they run up the steps in a hurry.

"What kind of whore are you, luring my boys down here like that? WHAT DID YOU SAY TO THEM?!"

"Nothing! Please! I swear!"

"You 'swear' a lot." He's staring at me with his black, small eyes. The wrinkles on his face that made him seem jolly last night, make him seem like pure evil now. "I bet it was your hair." Just then he grabs my hair and pulls me harshly up to my knees, "Your smooth, cornsilk hair. Wasn't it." He pulls a long shears out from a tool belt around his waist. He grabs a chunk of my hair and cuts it clean off. Then another chunk, and another. Cutting hunks of hair right off my head. I'm screaming bloody murder, as if he's stabbing me with those shears. He's violating me and who I am, stripping me of my last bit of security and identity.

"There. Now you can't tempt them like a Siren from the sea."

I am now crying hysterically, rocking back and forth, touching my hair… what's left of it. He walks over to the big laundry tub next to the washing machine, fills a glass, and sets it down next to me.

"Ration this glass of water and use the toilet paper next to the bucket. We'll be back in about 36 hours."

Thirty six hours is a long time to wait for impending doom. The wait alone is torture. I don't know how long I was crying. An hour? Two? Probably more. I have zero sense of time down here, and having this much of it to think about what they are planning to do to me… it is brutal. The blood stain on the floor isn't helping. Oh, God! I don't want to die!

Finally I'm out of tears. I just left sitting here, thinking about the failures of my life, all the things I never got around to doing, the loved ones I'll never get to say goodbye to. Hoping they've begun to look for me, but feeling defeated, knowing I would be impossible to find. And then suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear music played over some kind of sound system. Where is that coming from? It's as if it's coming from everywhere. A scratchy, LP version of "Let It Snow!", sung by Dean Martin. "Oh the weather outside is frightful, But the fire is so delightful…" I look at the door, thinking something is about to happen; that they are about to walk through and do despicable things to me. Instead, it repeats itself. Again and again… This is like a fucked up horror film. Are they trying to make me go mad? What is going on?? It's loud and it's hard to think.

It seems as though the music has been running for hours when it stops and I can hear footsteps walking across the floor above me.  I am sitting in the corner, next to the pipe that I'm still tied to, holding my knees tight to my chest and trembling in fear. This is it. Here we go.

The door swings open, and all three men walk through. Samuel is the loudest, shouting "Ho, ho, ho! Welcome to the Bauer Family Christmas, girly! You're our guest of honor!"

They all have big smiles on their faces. They also look clean; their hair brushed down and slicked back, the way they probably do for all special occasions. My heart is beating a mile a minute and adrenaline is pumping through my veins. Both brothers are still in coveralls, but with pressed plaid flannels, and Samuel is wearing a red button down shirt with white suspenders. The look of fear is washed all over my face, and I'm literally shaking. These three men are going to do God only knows what to me, and there is no way out!

Samuel speaks first. "Move her to the table and tie her down."

"No! NO!!"  I scream and try to bat their hands away, but it's two against one. One holds me as the other cuts me loose. No matter how much I squirm, they drag me over to the table where Samuel is now helping to hold me down. I fight and thrash, but I don't hold a chance. They tie a rope around my arm at the joint between my forearm and bicep, just above the elbow, run the rope underneath the table and tie a knot around the other arm. My hands are forced to hang over the edge. I can't sit up and I can barely move my upper body at all. Next, they remove my socks and spread my feet wide apart. They do the same with my ankles, except I'm not tall enough to reach the end of the table so they just pull them to the nearest edge along the side. I am spread eagle, but I still have my clothes on. I try to pull against my restraints, but it only makes the knots tighter. I'm sweating, crying, and begging them to stop, and all I can think about is that blood stain I noticed earlier, now directly below me. My mind is racing.

"Shut up, sweetheart. We need it to be quiet. And if you can't be quiet, then we'll tie a plastic bag around your fucking head." Samuel's tone is severe. I try to be as quiet as I can, only letting out small, uncontrollable whimpers from time to time.

The father and two sons hold hands, making a circle around my head and chest. What kind of demented family gathering is this??

They all close their eyes and Samuel speaks, "We are gathered here for this spiritual feast. Let us pray." At once, all three heads bow as he continues. "Come, dear Father. Bless this girl before us. You brought her to us, into our lives, when we needed You the most. Help us wash away her sins so she may receive our purist lusts into her. Let us fill her with pleasure and the Eternal Seed. Thank you, oh Lord, for this gift of sacrifice so that we may live unsinned another year. We pray in thy name. Amen."

"Amen," both sons echo.

Their faces are serious. I did not like the way that sounded: "fill with eternal seed", "sacrifice"… My heart is beating so fast, I am certain I'm about to have a heart attack right here on this very table. This whole setting is so surreal. It's completely psychotic and deranged!

All three men pull out shiny, sharp knives. So clean, they practically glow in this dirty basement. I'm holding my breath as they each mumble something inaudible and kiss the base of the blade.

"Let us begin."

Both brothers place their knives at the bottom of my jeans, one man for each leg, sawing through the hem, and slicing upward through the material, occasionally making small nicks against my skin. Samuel is working on my top, cutting through the arms and then the front. It doesn't take long for them to slice through my clothing and pull it out from under my body, leaving me only in my bra and panties. Samuel slices through both hips of my panties, pulls them off, and I watch in disgust as he stops to smell them before passing it around the table. I am dying of embarrassment as I am displayed for all of them to see the one part of me that very few men have been allowed. I can feel all of their eyes on me, and turn my head to look away as Samuel cuts through my bra, exposing even more of me. I feel a hand move up my thigh and I squeeze my eyes closed.

"John! Hands off, son! Not yet."

George fills a pail of water from the laundry tub and brings it back to the table. Samuel proceeds to fill his sponge with soapy water and gives me a lukewarm sponge bath. I can feel the goose bumps forming on my skin. He cleans my feet and legs, up to my stomach, seemingly leaving my private parts for last. He moves on to my arms, hands and neck before he carefully and slowly washes my breasts. I can feel my face turning red and hot as he circles my nipples over and over again, pretending he's merely washing me, but I know he's enjoying it, making them stiffen against my will. I look up at their faces. All of them are either licking or biting their lips. One is even rubbing his cock through a pocket in his pants. Samuel takes the sponge and wipes it between my legs. Roughly. Sticking it up inside of me to "clean the evil out", as he put it. I whimper and pull against my restraints. It hurts a lot, scraping my insides. As soon as he's done, he sticks a two fingers uncomfortably inside of me and smells them. "Ah yes, this cunt is clean."

Samuel dries me off and moves beside me, his hands stroking my arm as he looks at me. "It's always a gamble when we toss the dead deer into the street and wait…. but you sure are a sweet thing." His hand wanders to my breasts, and then down between my legs. "God brought you to us. And now we must show Him thanks." He stands back and begins to undress.

"Wait! WAIT!" I begin to object again to whatever else they plan, but someone slaps a couple pieces of duct tape onto my mouth. Tears are now streaming freely down my cheeks as I see all three men naked in front of me. I'm pulling harder on the rope, but it doesn't budge. Samuel climbs onto the table. His white haired cock is in his hands, rubbing it into stiffness. He's taking his time, rubbing his tip against the length of my slit. I'm shaking my head no. It's the only part of my body that I can use to protest. He lines himself up, lowers his body so it's resting on mine, and pushes his hips forward with a grunt. I scream through the tape as he tears into me. His hips are moving very slowly in a circular motion as he lets out a long groan of pleasure, his eyes practically rolling up inside his head. He exhales again and I can feel and smell his foul breath from all the tooth decay. He makes eye contact with me and begins to pick up a little speed, thrusting in and out of me. "You love this, don't you," he smiles. My guttural screams and tears should be telling him otherwise, but he continues, "Yeessss, you do. Whores like you always love a nice, big dick inside them." I'm shaking my head no, furiously. I DON'T WANT THIS!

Samuel begins to thrust faster, making more noises in tandem with his movements. I know he's going to cum soon. His sons are cheering him on, "Come on, Pop! Give it to her real good!!" Faster and faster he accelerates, drops of sweat falling off his bright red nose, onto me, until he finally finishes in a loud climax. He collapses on top of me, his wet, clammy body touching mine. His face, buried in my neck as he occasionally shakes with abrupt tremors and after shocks. "Fuck, that was good!", he exclaims, out of breath. He eventually pulls himself out and backs off of the table, sliding his hand across my body. His sons helping him to the nearest chair to rest.

I feel like he just took a part of my soul with him, and sick to my stomach knowing there are still two more men planning to rape me, followed by who knows what else?!

It's George's turn. He's a large man. He's circling the table, staring me down. His cock is already hard and straight. He climbs up on the table and straddles my chest and neck. "You want this, don't you, bitch." He's smacking my face with his big cock. It doesn't hurt, but it's invasive and makes me feel like I'm nothing. It's a power play. He's hitting me in the face with his phallus and there's nothing I can do. He's smiling and laughing, knowing it must be hurting my pride and ego. "Yeeaahhh, you want this." I look at him and his eyes look cold and vicious. He slinks backwards down my body and massages my breasts. Gentle at first, then getting more and more rough, until he's pinching my nipples and pulling at them. I'm yelling through my taped mouth. It hurts so much, I half fear he's going to rip one right off. He leans down and bites me on the fleshy part of my breasts. Hard. He traces his tongue over my nipples before he stuffs as much of it into his mouth that will fit. I'm whimpering, feeling how he's getting himself ready to rape me. I can feel his cock between my legs. As he bites down again, he's burying himself inside me, forcing himself between my legs. He's heavy and strong. He moves his head from my breasts to my neck where he bites and sucks at my skin while he thrusts with great force. He's shoving himself in and out of me so hard, I can feel the table shifting and moving. I'm screaming and crying from the pain. He's hurting me. It feels like he's stabbing me over and over again with his cock. Stretching me while my body is fighting it. His face is angry and scary. While his father seems to be crazy, George appears to be positively unhinged. He squeezes my arms, and where ever else he likes to hold onto, as hard as possible. I can tell he's leaving bruises around my body. I wouldn't be surprised if some of those teeth marks drew blood. His grunts are loud and angry, getting louder and faster until he erupts. When he's done, he leans down and wraps his hand around my neck, holding my head still as he speaks coldly into my ear. "Stop your crying. I know you loved this. They all say they don't, but I know they do. All you cunts are liars."  He licks the side of my face, slaps me, and pulls out, finding his way to another chair.

I feel the room spinning. I'm loosing feeling in my hands and feet where they've become numb from the ropes pulling too tight. I'm freezing, yet I can't tell if my trembling is because of how cold I am, or from the intense trauma of this sexual violence against me.

John is pacing around the table with energies of both excitement and nervousness. His father is giving him a pep talk with pointers.

"Now remember not to go too fast this time. Take your time. You may not get to do this again for another year."

George chimes in, "If you feel like you're gonna cum, freeze and think about somethin' else."

What is happening?? Am I now a learning tool? There's something off about John, like he's not all mentally there. He's so awkward and uncomfortable. Climbing on top of me, he's licking and biting his lips as if he's both aroused and thinking really hard about fucking me. No warm up, no speaking, he just pushes himself in, gasping in the pleasures he's feeling. After a moment of not moving, he starts to thrust. Slowly at first, just like his father told him, but then he starts to get faster and faster, until it feels like a jack hammer pounding into me. His eyes are closed, not trying to connect with me like the other two. There's an uncomfortable innocence about him, like he has no idea that what he's doing is wrong. Just gratification. That's all that matters. His hands move around my body, groping me. This close up, I can see all of his missing teeth. His mouth is revolting. He's not inside me three minutes before he ejaculates, the other two congratulating him on a job well done.

They go up to eat their Christmas dinner. The door open at the top of the stairs and I can hear their utensils clanging against the dishes. I am exhausted, both physically and emotionally, with bruises and bite marks left all over my body. Trembling because now I know the worst is to come.

All three of them come back downstairs, clothed in robes. I am no longer crying, possibly in shock. The brothers each have their knives, one on each of my hands. Samuel is at my head, praying, "Loving Father, we praise and thank You for this liberation. We give You this life filled with our Seed so that we may commit this Day into Your most precious and forgiving hands. We have purged from our loins for You, and now we shall let the blood of this sacrifice for You. Save us from the clutches of sin and Satan, and we will lead a life of servitude until the glorious day of Your coming. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen."

I barely have the wherewithal to move my hands. I know the end is near. I feel the sharp knives carving lines across my wrists. Warm blood running through my fingers. It's so quiet, I can hear the drops of my blood hitting the cement floor. My panic is met with an overwhelmingly tired feeling, and they leave me alone with only my thoughts as I go in and out of consciousness.

I'm down there a long, long time before Samuel comes back. They assumed I would be dead with the amount of blood I lost, but I am a fighter. Even unconscious, I am a fighter. I suppose they could have killed me at that point, but instead, when they realized I was alive, the men believed it to be a miracle. They wrapped my wrists tight in bandages, tied a pillowcase over my head, and drove me into the next state. They tossed my weak, naked body onto the side of a country road, one that is quiet enough for no one to see, but travelled enough to know someone would see me within the hour. But I continued to bleed and eventually passed out. When I finally woke up, I was in the hospital, surrounded by my family and the police. I was able to describe my attackers to the detective. A week later, they are still looking for them.


« Last Edit: May 09, 2016, 09:44:40 PM by Red Right Hand »
The wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

Offline EssenceofRed

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #1 on: November 28, 2015, 07:44:19 PM »
Thank you for reading. This story is entered in the November/December 2015 story contest. Please read all the entries and be sure to vote for your favorite story here! <3





« Last Edit: December 01, 2015, 07:00:53 AM by EssenceofRed »
The wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

Offline francesco165

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #2 on: December 14, 2015, 09:45:10 AM »
Great story !

Offline Alexander

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #3 on: December 19, 2015, 02:36:11 AM »
 Nasty dark. I like.  :fuck:

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #4 on: December 19, 2015, 05:07:27 PM »
She shore was a purty turkey. Seems the Man upstairs decided to pardon her like how the president does.
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Offline EssenceofRed

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #5 on: December 27, 2015, 01:32:54 PM »
She shore was a purty turkey. Seems the Man upstairs decided to pardon her like how the president does.

You practically have the twang down perfectly!! Lol
The wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

Offline Red Right Hand

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #6 on: December 29, 2015, 02:04:13 AM »
There are a lot of great elements in here: abduction, captivity, grime, multiple attacks. The hopelessness and isolation come through clearly.

It is seductively creepy, dark and gritty; right up until that last paragraph...
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Offline EssenceofRed

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #7 on: December 29, 2015, 08:30:00 AM »
It is seductively creepy, dark and gritty; right up until that last paragraph...

I know. *shakes head* When it came right down to it, I couldn't let her die. The original ending was even too scary for me!! And then I had about 100 words left to turn it around. 
The wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #8 on: December 29, 2015, 05:08:09 PM »
You gotta learn to let them go, Darlin'.  :*

IMHO, sometimes they just have to die. Sometimes they surprise you and live against all odds, like the tough cookie in Chit. It's nice when they surprise you like that.
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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #9 on: December 31, 2015, 10:42:49 PM »
Easily my favourite. Anyone who's read any of my contributions on Rape Fantasy Discussion will surely understand why.

How could I not identify with this protagonist?  <3 :girlwank: :hide: :exit:

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #10 on: December 31, 2015, 11:22:01 PM »
Congratulations to Red for this winner! :celebrate:

I missed the voting deadline but at least I read all the stories this time! :blush:

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #11 on: January 04, 2016, 03:41:37 PM »
I very much enjoyed this one, [member=10]EssenceofRed[/member] . Am I the only one who heard banjos playing in my head whilst I read this though?  :uhoh:  :laughgrin:

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell
« Reply #12 on: January 04, 2016, 06:34:33 PM »
Congratulations on winning !  :thumbs:

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell [Winner of November/December 2015]
« Reply #13 on: September 27, 2016, 07:37:45 AM »
Loved loved loved this one... :*

Also don't listen to [member=708]Red Right Hand[/member] ... :uhoh: i am extremely happy she survived :P

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Re: Walkin' In A Winter Wonder Hell [Winner of November/December 2015]
« Reply #14 on: September 27, 2016, 06:43:57 PM »
Loved loved loved this one... :*

Also don't listen to [member=708]Red Right Hand[/member] ... :uhoh: i am extremely happy she survived :P

Ha! Me too, the poor thing! Lol
The wolf said, "You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone."

 

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