Millie Googles Being Ravished
Chapter 1: Ravished
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Ma/ft, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Mult, NonConsensual, BiSexual, Fiction, School, Light Bond, Orgy, First, Teacher/Student,
Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Ravished - Millie is a delicious young rhythmic gymnast. Two pervert teachers think they can help themselves, and make her keep quiet about it, because they have big cocks and they know how to make her cum for the camera, over and over again. But she has Google... [same situation as Sextoy Slave, but is a different kind of story]
Millie was severely depressed. Her mind lurched around from one view to another. She was a skanky slut who got off on being raped over and over. She was a victim who needed help. She must have led them on. She was designed to be raped as they said. She was sex-mad. She’d asked for it, flaunting herself in her leotard with her rhythmic gymnastics. Men would always just fuck her when they felt like it. She should drop out of school and be a porn star or a prostitute.
And the teachers had told her to be in the gym same time next week. Mr Clifton had showed her the video and photos he’d taken of her being fucked and obviously cumming. Some more of her nude in the shower afterwards; she couldn’t stop him filming her. Some of her in bra and panties. He’d said he could release them in stages if she didn’t cooperate. Millie was terrified: everyone would think she’d liked it, got off on it. The whole school would be looking at her naked body being used and apparently loving it. She’d never survive.
She couldn’t tell her parents either, they’d go insane. Nor tell anyone else. God, if word ever got out! She carefully counted and it came to twelve orgasms! In two and a half hours of almost continuous fucking. Being stripped, tied up, fucked with huge cocks over and over. Filled to overflowing with sperm. Which reminded her the morning-after pill she’d taken wasn’t helping either, since it was basically an overdose of something and was making her feel quite weird.
Millie stayed in her room, fending off her parents who’d been curious about her appearance when she’d got in last night.
Millie never cried, but she nearly did then. She was so alone suddenly. Alone and in the power of these men who seemed friendly but just wanted to use her. One of them had even admitted it was selfish ... well it was way more than selfish. The bastards. Her own teachers!
The anger gave her a bit of strength; enough to start looking up on Google about orgasm during rape. That had been the worst thing of all about it. It turned out it was quite well-known. It was fairly common, and it didn’t mean you liked it; it was different from desire, just a physical reaction. Some abusers were adept at inducing orgasms in their victims...
Some girls had fantasies about their abuse, even years later, as though it had been sexy when it hadn’t been at all. That didn’t mean you’d enjoyed it either it was some kind of coping...
Everyone reacted differently, there was no right and wrong way, and whatever way you reacted it didn’t make it your fault, it was theirs completely.
It made her feel a bit better. She carried on searching: feelings of isolation were normal, and a weapon that abusers used to bind their victims to them ... so much of it was about the secrecy. It ended up that your abusers were the only ones you weren’t keeping secrets from. The secrets alienated you from your family and friends, and bound you to your abusers.
She read some victims’ stories. Many girls had had it a lot worse than her: had been hit, been abused for years even, and by their parents so they really did have no-one to turn to...
Childline ... the advice they always seemed to give was to talk to someone you trust. Who though? Millie thought about that.
And about the video and photos on Mr Clifton’s phone. Would he really publish them? Couldn’t they always be traced somehow?
And then there was them saying it was natural that they could force themselves on her, and how girls had evolved so that men could rape them. Was that right? Girls are smaller and weaker, obviously, and it was true that cocks could be forced into vaginas...
By Monday Millie had decided to tell her best friend Ann. Ann would believe her and be on her side whatever, and she wouldn’t tell anyone. Unlike her mum and dad Ann wouldn’t go berserk and call the police so that she’d be having to try and prove she hadn’t wanted it; perhaps have a load of policemen leering over the video. Her parents would instantly ban her from her rhythmic gym.
She went round after school and sat on Ann’s bed. They chatted for few minutes then Millie went quiet for a few seconds.
“You know Mr Clifton and Mr Farrier?” she started. It was obviously the start of something big.
“Yes?” Ann’s eyes had popped wide open.
“On Friday, you know I stay and practice...”
“They came in, and...” Millie stopped. She couldn’t go on.
“They perved you,” said Ann flatly.
Millie didn’t say anything, looking down at the floor.
“They touched you?” Ann could hardly breathe. “Oh Millie!”
Ann came and sat right next to Millie, touching her.
“What did they do?”
Millie made herself carry on: “They stared at me all the time, so I felt like going, then when I tried to get to the door they wouldn’t let me and carried me back in.”
“So they did me. Both of them, over and over.”
“YOU MEAN RAPED YOU?” Ann shrieked.
Millie could only look at the floor with her hair hiding her face. “All over the gym, and in the showers, and the boys’ changing room. Tied backwards over the horse, and to the parallel bars ... over and over, about, I don’t know, ten times, or twelve even. Taking turns, and having a rest to get ready again, for like three hours. And they made me ... orgasm, every time, over and over again. And I’ve got to go back cos they filmed it.”
Ann sat in silent shock for a few moments, then stood up went out. Too late Millie realised why.
In twenty seconds there were feet running up the stairs and Ann’s mother was in the bedroom, with Ann. She didn’t say anything for a minute, just sat next to Millie while Ann sat on her other side.
Ann’s mum was a bit of a hippie. She wore big red gypsy skirts and no makeup, and had lots of opinions about things. She’d always been welcoming to Millie, and Millie liked her. Now Ann’s mum put her arm round her, and Millie leaned against her and finally had a cry. Ann’s mum was on her side just like Ann herself. Then Millie answered all the questions.
Twenty minutes later Millie had confided everything, including the dozen orgasms, the filming and the demand to go again on Friday. She added that the teachers had said it was instinct and about evolving and it was natural that they could ‘mate’ with her, and what she’d found out about abuse and having orgasms and the secrecy.
Ann’s mum didn’t go ballistic. Didn’t make out it was the crime of the century and that Millie ought to feel destroyed. Millie didn’t want to feel destroyed, she wanted to feel she was normal and respectable like she used to be.
“I’m so glad you came and told us Millie,” Ann’s mum was calm, “that’s so important. You’ve got us on your side now so you’ll be safe. We just need a plan ... alright we need to get the videos and photos, don’t we?” She was amazingly practical. “Then the boot’ll be on the other foot and those selfish bullies will be the ones in the shit. The unedited ones will be bound to have parts that show it’s them and rape.”
Millie had to smile at the profanity. Ann’s mum wasn’t like other mums.
“Don’t bother about the evolution bullshit,” Ann’s mum carried on, “that’s just an excuse. Mankind has also evolved to be selfish and violent – don’t even get me started on that - but we make crimes crimes because they’re bad for us as a society. A society could never be successful if it allowed rape, that’s why it’s a crime just like murder and theft that we also evolved to be capable of. Most people have evolved to be kind to each other but a few people are criminals and that’s what those teachers are.”
THAT was what Millie had wanted to say to Mr Farrier! She felt a bit better again.
“I bet the videos are still on his phone,” said Ann who’d been thinking about it, “so they can perv at them all the time, during the day.”
“Alright!” said her mum, “phones can be stolen, can’t they?”
Millie was soaking up the positive attitude and how it was a problem to be solved. She was going to take action and not be a victim!
So the next day she and Ann were knocking on Mr Clifton’s office door. They’d dressed to distract him, and also for speed. Ann was five foot three and very cute, with dark hair short enough to show off her long, slender neck. She had a tempting pair of firm c-cup tits, which today jiggled alluringly under nothing but a thin v-neck sleeveless pullover. Millie was wearing a tank, also without a bra, and both were in short skirts and trainers.
Mark Clifton goggled at them from his desk. “What can I do for you?” he managed to ask.
Ann’s mum had said he’d believe anything as long as he wanted to believe it.
“I can’t stop thinking about sex,” murmured Millie, coming up to his right side while Ann went to his left. Millie concentrated on what they were here for. It was different from the gym: Ann’s mum had said they were going to take the power - Millie and Ann and herself together, and Millie wanted that. Ann’s mum had said it was like a competition, and Millie had to think about winning it just like she won her gymnastic competitions.
His jacket was on the back of his chair. They really needed his phone to be in a jacket pocket. It wasn’t on his desk anyway.
“And Ann feels the same,” Millie continued, “so we were wondering if she could come on Friday? I mean cum on Friday!” she giggled, leaning forwards over the desk so her tank top fell forwards revealing quite a lot of pert teen tit.
She sensed Ann feeling the jacket pockets on her side ... nothing.
“I always wanted to start with an older man,” Ann drew his attention to his left, subtly tugging her pullover down to reveal some cleavage, and Millie quickly checked the jacket pockets on her side ... they were empty apart from his wallet. Shit. It must be in his trousers. Plan B then.
“I hope you don’t mind Mr Clifton,” Millie continued, “Annie’s my best friend, I tell her everything. I told her how big your thingy is, and she wants to see it.”
Mark Clifton was trying to work it out. Did Millie really not mind about last Friday? Had she told it to Ann as something sexy? Well ... at the end she’d been exhausted rather than hateful.
The whole plan has been not to hurt her, after all; to make her orgasm a lot, and get her to accept it as natural. Or at least, to leave her uncertain enough for the blackmail to work and finish the job of keeping her quiet. Girls her age can be wonderfully uncritical of what they’re told by adults - especially by teachers of course.
It was scary that she had actually told someone, that wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did fit. And Ann Whittle was a very sexy young girl...
“And touch it,” added Ann.
The temptation was too much for him: “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“I’ll show you my tits.”
The girls and Ann’s mum had discussed the negotiations if they needed Plan B. With two of them and surrounded by other teachers’ offices they were quite safe, and nothing was more important than getting the phone. Showing your body could be bad or good, it was all about power.
“To touch my cock either I touch your tits or you strip naked, it’s up to you,” he bargained, manipulating the innocent girl. His cock was twitching at the prospect.
“Like for like,” said Ann, “if I strip naked you have to.”
Mark could hardly believe how this was going. The girl was going to talk herself right onto his cock at this rate. “OK. If you touch me then I touch you, though, OK?”
“Alright,” Ann made herself sound reluctant, “I suppose. Are you going to go first?”
That wasn’t a problem. Before she could start losing her nerve he stood up, flicked the catch on the door and quickly shed his tie and shirt.
Ann slowly lifted her pullover by the neck and drew it up over her head. Her flat tummy and pert, jutting teen tits were revealed in all their glory. She could see Mr Clifton was riveted, gulping even.
Mr Clifton removed his shoes and socks.
Ann didn’t want to take her trainers off, she’d need them to run in, so next she undid her miniskirt and pulled it down, but left it round her feet.
Would he realise?
No. The thin boy-cut panties that they’d chosen for her took all his attention. In an emergency they could do as shorts but they clung to her, showing her cameltoe as well as her gorgeous lean shape. She swivelled this way and that, showing her ass.
Mr Clifton, without taking his eyes off the nearly-naked teen, slid his trousers off and draped them over the chair.
“And those,” said Ann, looking at his bulging briefs. She needed him to lose the plot a little. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and pushed the waistband down an inch. “You’re supposed to be in the nude first, we said didn’t we?”
His attention was glued to Ann’s hot little teen body, with a bit of bush peeking over the top of her panties, while behind him Millie was sliding her hand into the trouser pocket that had the weight and the shape of a phone in it. Her deft fingers eased the phone out and into her skirt pocket that she’d left empty on purpose. Ann had seen, out of the corner of her eye.
Now the girls needed to hold their nerve and be quick. As Mr Clifton’s briefs reached his knees Millie went to the door and flipped the catch off. Ann reached down and pulled her skirt up while Millie got the door open.
Mark Clifton could only gape as Ann grabbed her pullover with one hand, held her skirt up with the other and ran for the door.
She paused in the doorway, pulled her pullover over her head while Millie held her skirt up, as they’d practiced, zipped her skirt leaving the button for later, and stepped into the corridor.
The girls heard an indignant “Hey!” from Mr Clifton as they ran gleefully down the corridor.