Chapter 2

"Molly Carpenter! Where have you been, and what were you doing?" Mrs. Carpenter exclaimed, coming down the long, graceful staircase of their home.

A deep laugh sounded from the family parlor, off the hallway. Mr. Carpenter, looking up from a heavy volume of Toynbee, saw his daughter, mud-spattered, her lovely little costume slight awry, her hair in a tangled blonde mess around her shoulders.

"You've been down by the lake again," he said, without any recrimination evident in his voice.

"Yes, Daddy," she said.

"Miss Carpenter, are we ever going to make a lady out of you?" the tall handsome man said, grinning at his adored only child.

"No, Daddy," she said, her own grin slightly lop-sided. A dimple flashed on her flushed cheek.

"Oh, well, dear, when you become a famous femme fatale, you will say in your memoirs that your parents tried, won't you?" her mother said, cupping her lovely daughter's chin and kissing her lightly on her dewy lips.

"Yes, Mom."

"Good. Now go up and take a bath. Dear God! How you do attract the dirt!"

It had not occurred to the Carpenters to worry that their daughter had run into trouble. She was a cut-up constantly, and nothing much ever happened in Sylvan Hills worth talking about in tones of horror. The most the gossip of Sylvan Hills ever elicited was a slightly raised eyebrow and perhaps a slight laugh of titillation, since people will be people, wherever they are.

Molly started up the stairs, and turned, one swan-like arm hanging languidly over the mahogany banister.

"Could I be another Lola Montez?" she asked her lovely blonde mother.

"Molly, where did you hear about her?"

"In one of the history books I snitched from Daddy's library."

"Harold, you have to lock up some of your books!" Mrs. Carpenter said.

"Nonsense, Mary! I can't think of a better way for Molly to learn."

"I can," Mary said, coming into the room and sitting in her favorite chair, opposite to her husband's.

"Mary," Harold exclaimed with a slightly lewd grin on his face, "she's too young."

Mary grinned and picked up her book, which was by Carlyle, and settled down for a quiet evening.

Molly walked up to her room, grinning. She stripped off the stained dress. There was some slight bloodstains on the back of it. She bundled it up, and hid it in her special hiding place, which was a box in her closet, and then threw on a robe to go to the bathroom.

Once in the tub, she was at leisure to savor the new feelings that had remained with her, and to think of the sexy, masked bandit who had wrenched her virginity for him.

She had been an ideal subject!

She washed herself carefully, examining her pussy. It didn't look any different, slightly redder than usual from where his hairy groin had slammed into her and inflamed it.

The very thought of that enormous cock slamming in and out of her drove her to a frenzy.

She stuck her finger into her pussy, as she relaxed in the warm water of the tub. She had filled the bath water liberally with her mother's favorite bath oil.

Her pussy was slightly sore, but the feelings which coursed through her, as she rubbed her finger in and out of her recently opened womanhood, were glorious.

She felt as if she had begun a whole new life, thanks to that strange man. She had been so enthralled by what happened to her that it did not occur to her that the man had committed a great crime, that he had raped her.

She had wanted to be fucked, and he had fucked her to a fabulous orgasm. Molly leaned back in the tub, and made love to her own cunt. She ran her fingers, stick with the perfumed bath oil over the swollen folds of her pussy meat.

She grunted, and the water lapped about her warmly, like a wet soft hand, swirling up around her tiny but well-shaped titties.

She looked down at her long, slender white body.

She was beautiful, and she knew it. She would be built like her mother, her breasts rich and full, and high on her chest, her waist long and narrow, her hips full and lush.

Already the promise was there in her long, slender body with the subtle curves.

Distracted by her loveliness, she abandoned her cunt for awhile, and began to run her hands over her flat belly, with the slight rise in her abdomen.

She fingered her belly button, and felt a delicious shiver run through her. Her flesh jumped under her hands as she ran her palms lovingly over her soft skin.

She cupped both her tits. She felt them swell with the passion she elicited from herself. She tweaked the nipples. They puckered deliciously between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.

What a difference it was to her to frig herself, now that she was no longer a virgin. She couldn't wait to get to school, and tell all her friends. They would be jealous.

All the girls in her class had been dying to have their cherries popped for almost as long as Molly, but she was probably the first one. At least she hoped she was.

A new thought hit her, and her hand paused on her small budding boobs. What if the man decided to deflower all the little girls in town tonight? She hoped not.

She wanted the distinction of being the first. Molly was first in a lot of things. She was first in the girls' soccer team, first in basketball, first in swimming, and ironically enough, given her predilection for roaming around, the mercurial behavior of her powers of concentration, she was also first in all her scholastic subjects except one: she was terrible in home economics!

That, for a girl whose mother had taught her how to make quiche Lorraine when she was six years old was rather extraordinary. Her father once asked her how she did it.

"It's easy, Dad. I already know everything they're teaching, so I cut the class."

When she was supposed to be mixing the staid ingredients for a tomato aspic, she was "experimenting."

She once blew up two dishes by adding ingredients which she had copped from the chemistry lab, just to see what would happen.

She relaxed again, and turned her attention back to what she was doing: the man's fucking had greased her for more action. She felt hotter than she had ever felt in her life.

As she stimulated her lovely little nipples, which stood out, puckered and prominent on her budding breasts, she felt her pussy starting to cream. The sensation was totally different, now that she wasn't a virgin any more, and she dwelt lovingly on that fact.

Her pussy still tingled. The slight soreness had an edge of pleasure to it. As she concentrated on the slight stinging in her pussy, it almost felt in its throbbing, as if the man were thrusting his cock in and out of her again.

Her face began to flush as the fever of her desire mounted. She pulled at her nipples, watching them elongate. She pulled harder, wanting more sensation.

Her breasts also elongated slightly, and a shiver of intense pleasure coursed through her.

She brought her hands downward, wanting to feel her cunt, which was almost vibrating with her sexual hunger. Her breathing became shallow as her excitement built in her young body.

She pressed her hand into her pussy meat, feeling the soft, wet meat spread beneath her questing fingers. She pried into the swollen, hot folds, and her body jumped with the sharp hot ripples of pleasure.

"Uhh!" she moaned. She tried to concentrate on what it felt like to have the man's weight on top of her. Just the feeling of his body pressing her into the moist cool grass caused a shudder of hot passion to well up in her. Her excitement trickled down her overheated twat, in turgid streams, and poured out of her cunt into the water.

Again she pried a hot little finger into her drooling hole, and wiggled it around against her cuntal walls. The sensation was phenomenal. She gasped, and her hips started to rock up and down in the water.

The water had a sensuous impact of its own on the young girl's ardent body. As it swelled and moved in ponderous waves around her young flesh it created a sensation that was both erotic and soothing.

Her hips, moving through the water, seemed to be lifted, as by soft, sensuous hands. Her very asshole tingled with sympathetic pleasure, as she rubbed her finger in and out of her tiny, recently-opened twat. One finger wasn't enough.

The cock of the man who had stuffed her had made her hungry for more of the same, and her little fingers now felt almost inadequate. But still, the hot sensations coursed through her, and she needed to come again.

She removed one finger from her twat, and then stuck two fingers into her hot hole. She moaned again, and her body stiffened with the sensual effect of the two fingers.

That was much better!

She spread her fingers a little, feeling the pressure increase. Then she started to twirl them around in her cunt. Her pussy seemed to have developed a life of its own.

It rippled with hot pleasure, and she felt her cuntal walls close in greedily around the two little digits.

They soon became sticky with the syrup which flowed in hot streams from her young snatch. She pumped her fingers in and out of her cunt, driving them in until she had them buried up to her knuckles.

Her lust rose until it consumed her, and the need to come filled her with a fabulous heat which became feverish.

She raised her knees up out of the water, and spread her thighs as wide apart as the sides of the tub would allow. She pumped her two fingers in and out of her cunt, and at the same time her little thumb worked on the hardened love button, which sent thrilling shivers of pleasure through her.

Her body became covered with goose bumps, as the pleasure built and built, driving her body in humping motions up out of the water.

The water was moving in higher and higher waves, as she continued to stimulate herself. It splashed out of the tub, and dampened the thick shag rug. Molly was oblivious to everything but the hot, harsh, demanding waves of pre-orgasmic tension which coursed through her body.

She felt the first spasms of her orgasm grip at her muscles, and cause them to stiffen and shake with a fine tremor. Then her cunt convulsed, as the orgasm built, and coursed through her whole body.

She opened her mouth in a soundless scream. Her eyes were shut tightly as her hand battered at her newly-opened twat. The pleasure built and built until she felt almost delirious as the delicious spasms increased in violence.

Her body arched out of the water, her smooth skin streaming with the warm, oily water, as her climax peaked. With a huge sigh, she collapsed into the water again, as it started to fade away.

She kept pumping her hand in and out of her twat, until it became sore again, seeking to retain the hot pleasure which had filled her with a wild delirium. Her hand was shaking with the violent effort of frigging herself, and her body felt warm and relaxed.

Molly made a wry face, as she soaped herself, and washed herself off. She still felt hungry, still wanted more of that hot huge man who had taken her virginity.

But her hands were no longer enough for the kind of desire which gripped at her cunt. She needed cock and more cock.

She got out of the tub, and dried herself off, and then went to her room. That night, she frigged herself into total exhaustion.