A rape fantasy story archive
Clyde was cursing his son for a no-account, lazy bastard when he heard the muffled groan.  It was coming from the barn, and he had no doubt that the voice he heard was his sixteen year old son’s.  Shane was helping him around the farm today – or he was supposed to be helping him, anyway – and with the Reynolds family away in town overnight that left only Clyde, their handy-man and farm hand, and his son.
 
Having only moments ago been muttering to himself about his son’s laziness, Clyde’s heart seized as he thought about all of the dangers around the farm that Shane might not expect.  Running toward the barn, he pictured Shane on the floor of the barn, having fallen and broken his back.  Or a hand mangled in machinery.
 
As he rounded the corner he nearly ran smack dab into his older brother, Thomas.  Thomas and his two boys were staying in a shack near Clyde and Shane’s modest cabin on the outskirts of the Reynolds’ property, and had been since losing their own place on another farm upstate.  Thomas was supposed to be out looking for work, but at his sudden appearance Clyde could only be grateful.  “I think Shane’s in trouble!” he shouted, heading for the barn.  As his weathered hand wrapped around the handle and began to pull back the huge sliding door, he tried to prepare himself to see his son pinned beneath a tractor, impaled on a pitchfork, groaning in pain with no one around to help him.

The door slid open, and he saw the white girl pinned beneath his son, impaled on him, as Shane groaned in ecstasy.

Shane was raping the Reynolds daughter.

Clyde couldn’t even move, at first.  His stunned mind insisted that all of the Reynolds family had gone into town. They’d left hours ago, and wouldn’t return until the next day, Sunday evening.  Surely they wouldn’t have left their fifteen-year-old daughter at home alone.    It was impossible.  It was impossible that his son was even now rutting in the girl before his very eyes.

Thomas had frozen beside him, his mad dash halted as abruptly as Clyde’s as he took in the scene before them. 

The girl lay on her back, arms stretched over her head and held down there with one large hand around her wrists.  Her legs were pale and bare pale beneath her ice-blue sun dress, which had been bunched up around her hips.  The front of her dress and camisole were torn open, baring her young breasts, and her pale thighs were spread helplessly open as Shane worked between them.  Her bare feet kicked hopelessly as she struggled against him. 

Shane’s other hand held tightly over the girl’s mouth, preventing her from crying out, but everyone could hear her whimpers.  Her wide, tear-filled eyes rolled toward Clyde and Thomas, pleading without words for them to help her.  Shane froze, his head whipping toward his father and uncle.  His previously blissful expression of concentration morphing immediately into guilt and fear.

Automatically, Clyde stepped forward to haul his son off the girl, unable to even begin to think about the way his world had just been turned upside down.  Thomas, however, had already leapt to the inevitable conclusion.  “Hold up,” he said, stretching an arm out in a bar across his younger brother’s chest.  “There’s no point in stoppin’ him now.”

Clyde turned wide eyes and a slack jaw on his brother.  “What the hell are you talking about?” he exclaimed. 

Thomas gripped Clyde’s shoulder and shook it a little.  “Think for a second!  There’s no hiding this, no matter what we do.  No covering it up.  It’s all over, Clyde.  You know damn well that when Reynolds gets back and finds out, we’re all done for.  There’ll be a mob comin’ for us for sure.”

Clyde’s heart pounded.  Thomas was right.  They’d have to leave, immediately.  And not stop running until they got at least four states between them and this farm.   “Goddamn,” he whispered in horror.  “We gotta get to the cabin.  Pack up and get the hell outta here.”

Thomas, though, looked strangely unbothered.  “We got time, my brother.  They’re not comin’ back until tomorra’ night, right?  Well, as long as we leave by mornin’, that’s plenty of time to get gone.  In the meantime,” he said, nodding his head toward Shane and the girl, “may as well let the boy finish.”

The girl understood before Shane did, shaking her head ‘no’ as much as she could beneath his restraint.  Her eyes begged the two older men to intercede.  She screamed beneath Shane’s hand.

Her actions prompted Shane into movement again.  He gave a hesitant thrust into the girl, watching his father and uncle to make sure he really wasn’t going to get hauled off and beaten.  When neither men moved – Clyde still looked shell-shocked, but Thomas winked at him – Shane grinned and tightened his grip on the writhing girl.  Having basically just been given cart blanche to do whatever he wanted, Shane began thrusting into her again, driving his cock into her tight little body over and over.  She felt so good…so hot and tight inside, where he had forced himself.

Clyde watched with a feeling of unreality as his son fucked the girl on the dirt floor of the barn.  She struggled and cried to no avail.  Shane simply held her down and moaned over and over until his thrusts became more urgent, even more unpolished.  Then with a final drive into her Shane cried out with pleasure and collapsed on top of her.  Both were finally still.









Clyde kicked the door and held it open for Thomas, who led the sobbing girl inside.  His grasp on her arm was a punishing one; he’d had to slap her to get her to stop screaming as they’d started toward the cabin.  She had resisted fiercely until Clyde made it clear he wasn’t above using violence to ensure her cooperation.  After the blow, the girl had lowered her head and cried to herself as she was dragged away by the three black men. 

As they entered the cabin, Thomas took charge.  “Shane, run on down to our shack and tell the boys what happened.  Help ‘em pack on up and get back here.”
Shane, still riding the high of his recent conquest, smiled blindingly up at his uncle.  “Sure thing, Uncle Thomas.”   He was gone in a flash, the screen door banging shut behind him.

Clyde fought rising panic.  Everything was finally settling in.  They had to leave.  They had to run.  The sooner the better.  The longer they stayed, the better their chances of getting lynched.  He ran into the bedroom and began throwing his personal items, such as they were, into his rucksack.  What could be left behind?  What could they live without, on the road? 

He packed as much as he could into the sack and headed back out to drop it by the front door.  The bag dropped with a thud as he saw what his brother was doing.

Thomas had sat the girl down in one of the rickety kitchen chairs and tied her hands behind it with an old rope he’d found somewhere.  His trousers were unzipped and he stood straddled over her unwilling form on the chair.  He had one hand wound tightly in her long blonde hair; the other caressed one of her breasts and tugged on the nipple.  The dark skin of his hand contrasted sharply with the pale, smooth skin of her tender breasts.  She had nowhere to move as he jammed his monstrous cock into her mouth.  He forced it deeper and deeper, speaking lowly to her as she whined around his dick.  “Don’t you fucking bite, little girl, or I’ll fuck you up.  I’ll hurt you so bad you won’t remember what it feels like not to hurt.  That’s it…just hold still, baby…”

He groaned as he finally worked himself all the way into her mouth, the head of his cock shoved up against the back of her throat.  The girl choked and gagged, her lips stretched wide around the base of his penis as he pressed against her face.  Her feet kicked and slapped at the floor in helpless protest. 

“Jesus, Thomas, goddamn it!  What the hell are you doing!” Clyde yelled.  Wasn’t the situation bad enough? 

Thomas grunted and thrust against the girl’s face, burying his cock even deeper in her throat.  “Relax,” he gritted out.  “We’ve got enough time for a little fun.”

“Goddamnit, Thomas!” Clyde railed, gripping his hair and pulling, hard.  Everything was spiraling out of control. 

Thomas glanced up at his brother, then eased back, pulling out and letting the girl breathe.  She sat there limply, her head tipped back, gasping for air. 

“Look,” Thomas said, adjusting himself.  “Why don’t you go down and help the boys pack.  They’re not gonna know everything they need to bring.”

Clyde might not be as quick and opportunistic as his brother, but he wasn’t slow, either.  He knew the real reason why Thomas wanted him to go clear out the shack.  And fuck if he didn’t want to just get the hell out of here.  He felt like he couldn’t control anything.

Thomas could see it on his face.  “Go on,” he urged, continuing to knead the girl’s left breast.  “It’ll do you good to work off some of your nerves.”

“Goddamnit,” Clyde muttered darkly to himself again, and then stalked past Thomas on the way to the door.  As the screen door slammed again, Thomas nudged the girl’s knees apart with his own, and then bent them so that he was lined up at her entrance.  He gripped her thighs and held her open to him, squeezing inside her as she let out a long squeal in protest.










When Thomas returned with Shane, Samuel and Abram, Clyde was sitting in the chair smoking a hand-rolled cigarette and the girl was lying on Shane’s cot by the front door.  Her wrists were tied to the wooden frame above her head and she wasn’t moving.  He wasn’t sure if she had passed out, or if she had simply been so traumatized that she was incapable of responding to their entrance. 

They all dumped their gear on the floor, and Clyde stepped toward his bedroom again.  “Come on, Shane, help me get our things together.”   But his son made no move to follow him.  Clyde stopped and looked back.  Shane and his cousins stood just inside the doorway, gazes riveted on the naked girl on the cot.  Their hungry gazes took in her voluptuous body, bared to them in the absence of her dress, which had finally been torn completely from her body and lay in a pile on the floor a distance away from the cot.  Their eyes raked over her nubile form, her young but full breasts.  Her rounded hips.

Abram was the first to act on his impulse.  He went over to the girl, placing a hand on her stomach and rubbing her skin.  “She sure is a pretty thing,” he said mostly to himself.  His hand slid up to a breast and he held it for a moment, squeezing gently.  He caressed her other breast, and then moved his hand down between her legs.  Then his hand returned to the bulge in his trousers as he unbuttoned them and lowered the zipper, freeing his erection. 

Abram climbed onto the cot and arranged himself between the girl’s legs.   At his prodding she came to life, shifting and trying to squirm away.  But he was relentless, pushing forward until he was pressing into her.  Pushing, pushing, until he was completely inside the girl, who he had never even seen before this moment. 
“Mmmm,” he breathed, and started fucking her.  Her hands came up to push fruitlessly at his chest, and Thomas turned to go into the bedroom.  There was nothing he could do.










All night he lay in his narrow bed and listened to the others raping the girl.  Between the four of them, she got no peace.  Sometimes she screamed, other times she sobbed and cried for her mother or father.  Other times there was no sound from her at all, and he could only imagine which one of his nephews, his son or his brother currently had his cock stuffed in her mouth.  At times he heard the gentle squeaking of one person fucking her on the cot, and at others he was convinced they were all going at her at once.  Their excited whoops and hollers woke him up every time he started to doze off, as they goaded each other on to fuck her harder, to show her who was boss, to make her moan.

Finally, an hour or so before dawn, all was silent in the other room.  He waited awhile longer, and after not hearing anything for a long while he got up to take stock of the situation. 

Thomas was passed out at the kitchen table, a nearly empty bottle of moonshine and a glass sitting just beyond his hand, which supported his head.  Snores came from the small sofa, where Shane was passed out drunk with an arm and a leg trailing on the floor.  The absence of Thomas’s two sons led him to believe they were similarly passed out on the porch. 

The girl was face-down on the bed.  Faint smudges from too-rough hands marked her body, along with other red spots that indicated sucking mouths and intrusive tongues.  Her hair was in disarray, tumbling all about her head.  Her rear end was smooth and firm, and still bore noticeable red handprints from enthusiastic slaps.  She was completely defenseless.  It was completely quiet, save for the sounds of slumber, and birds out in the woods beyond the walls of the cabin. 

Clyde’s hand dropped, nearly of its own volition, to rub himself through his trousers. 
They were leaving this morning.  All this damage, as his brother had pointed out, had already been done.  There was nothing he could do to make it worse.  He had to suffer because of their actions…leave his home and go on the run.  Shouldn’t he at least have something to show for it?  Shouldn’t he get something out of this?

The sound of his zipper rasping seemed loud to him, but he thought it was probably just that he was hyper aware of every sound as he contemplated what he was about to do.  He pulled himself out of his drawers and gave himself a few firm strokes.  It was no trouble getting hard; even if he hadn’t had the sounds of enthusiastic sex in his ears all night long, the visual of her lush body was all the stimulation he needed.
 
He crossed to the cot and climbed on behind her.  He smoothed his hands over her shoulders, down her spine, and over her buttocks.  He gripped them and squeezed her firm flesh.  His hands traveled lower, down the back of her thighs, then back up to her hips.  He got a good hold on her and pulled them up, lifting her hips off the bed and angling her to accept him.  Then he leaned over her body, gripping his cock in one hand and bracing himself on the other.  He quietly eased forward so that while most of his weight was not on her, he could feel her curves against him.  Then he stopped, surprised when she spoke.  “Please don’t,” she whispered.  “Please…I can’t take anymore…”

His heart thudded in his chest and in his ears.  His dick pulsed with the beat of it, with the heady pleasure of anticipation of what he was about to do.  He nudged the head of his cock into her from behind, then kept nudging forward, a little at a time.  It was so delicious to penetrate her.  Feeling her muscles tremble and squeeze around his girth.  She could do nothing to stop him.  She just had to take it. 

When he had fully mounted her, he lowered himself the rest of the way and then wiggled his hands under her until her breasts were cupped in his palms.  He gripped t hem as he started moving inside her.  In and out, in and out.

The girl moaned quietly as she was raped yet again.  His cock slid into her unimpeded, over and over, as his hands squeezed her tender breasts.  One hand removed itself, and reached down to grip her hip, keeping her in place for him.  He squeezed the rounded curve of her ass again before getting a better hold and increasing his force and pace. 

With his arms wrapped around her, thus, he panted in her ear as he worked himself up to a climax, and spilled himself within her body. 

Clyde held himself rigid above her, pulsing his seed into her as waves of ecstasy rippled all throughout his body.  God, she felt so damn good.  It was almost a shame they couldn’t take her with them.

With that thought, Clyde rolled off of the girl and went to change before rousing the others.  They had to get an early start.

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