The Art of Rape

by Sterling

Copyright© 2010 by Sterling

Erotica Sex Story: Carl is an expert in the art of raping teenage girls in their own beds in the middle of the night. But there is a twist.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Rape   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Paranormal   First   Pregnancy   .

As I shut the door behind me, I saw with pleasure that the faint glow of moonlight was plenty to see by. It was an ordinary girl's bedroom. There was a dresser, a bed, and a desk. A few items of clothing were scattered about on the floor, and the desk had a few books and papers on it. The walls had posters of horses and cute baby animals. In the bed was Caitlin.

It was a warm night, so she had only a sheet over her. Lying on her side facing me, her long blond hair was mussed over the pillow with a few strands over her face. She had a lightweight white nightgown on, and her breasts were easily visible underneath it. They weren't especially big, but they had a lovely curve to them. My cock started pulsing to life. A sheet reached up as far as her narrow waist, covering the mound of her hips and her bent legs. Her chest was gently rising and falling with each breath. She was 14, still a child in many ways, but her body had crossed the line into womanhood. Her face radiated peace and happiness. I was about to change that.

Warm weather was the best time for this; I had only shorts and T-shirt to remove. My cock rose to full attention as I considered what was to come.

Moving to the bed, I first gently pulled the sheet down from around her waist to the bottom of the bed. Her nightgown ended at mid-thigh, and below that her gorgeous long legs trailed away, ending in toenails with purple nail polish. Next I gently lifted her nightgown up as far as it would easily go. It rode up high enough on the back of her thighs that her white panties came into view, making my cock give a little twitch.

I was ready to spring into action at any time, but wanted to see how far I could go before she woke up. I gently pushed her hip, turning her over onto her back, and as she did I pulled the nightgown up past her waist in front. Now her luscious smooth stomach became visible above her panties. She didn't stir; I love sound sleepers!

I began gently stroking the front of her panties where her pubic hair was, and stroked down into the crevice between her legs. After a minute she started smiling in her sleep, and spread her legs a little wider. I took advantage of the extra surface area to stroke her pussy through the panties. Her smile broadened. The lubrication her body was doubtless producing would make the penetration easier on both of us. She started stirring, perhaps waking up. Now was the time.

I slowly put one knee on the bed and lifted my other leg over to straddle her, my cock pointing at its primal destination. I hooked my fingers under the edges of her panties out at her hips, and then yanked them down hard. That startled her partly awake. I lunged down on top of her and mashed one hand over her mouth and growled, "Do exactly what I say!" But she was not awake enough to be thinking of bargaining and consequences. She started thrashing and my hand only partly muffled her screams.

My full weight was bearing down on her, and with my other hand I quickly guided my cock to her cunt. When my rock-hard organ was in roughly the right place I rammed in hard. It wasn't quite lined up with her cunt opening, but as the flesh in the entire area was pressed by my rod, it funneled me in the right direction, over hair and fleshy pussy lips to the damp smooth parts. My inward path was blocked, but that slowed me only a second. I jammed again hard and the constriction gave way and the end of my intruding cock was through. She thrashed more and screamed harder, pain added to terror.

Her fear made me even more excited and determined, and with two more hard pushes I was in her all the way. Her lubrication wasn't bad, helped by my gentle pussy-stroking while she slept and also by blood from her ruptured hymen. My masculine pole now held us together down below, and I used the weight of my thighs to hold hers apart a little. I shook her head back and forth roughly and growled, "Be quiet!" Now she was awake enough to understand consequences, and she promptly went silent. Her wild eyes still showed her terror, and that was good.

I worked my hands in behind her shoulders and squeezed us together tight, while I started pumping away into her cunt fast and hard. I dug my fingers into her back and I bit her neck hard enough to draw a little blood. I found this very exciting. After maybe a minute, the glow started spreading in my loins, and as it reached its crescendo I jammed up hard into her and felt my cock twitch, the spurts of cum shooting way up inside her. As my body rhythmically pumped my seed deep into her I stayed locked tight. She had stopped struggling, so I could relax and enjoy the afterglow. I looked at her face, which was flushed, tears glistening against her skin. She was even more beautiful than her pictures had suggested.

It was good she had been totally surprised, it was good she was terrified, and it was good that she had felt some real pain. And now it was good for me to press my naked body down on hers so she struggled a bit for breath. She was soaking up the pheromones of her rapist.

I stayed on top of her for maybe five minutes until my cock softened and slid out. I then rolled off beside her, keeping her between me and the wall. The basic job was done, but now I could enjoy her with a bit more leisure.

"What are you... ?" she started to ask.

"Quiet!" I commanded. Talking was not good.

"Take off your gown and panties," I ordered. In the frenzy of the rape I had only gotten the panties partway down her thighs. She complied after the briefest hesitation. Perhaps after the ultimate violation I had just inflicted on her, stripping seemed only a minor further insult. She was just gorgeous, and I gently ran my hands all over her.

After some minutes of stroking this perfect creature my erection started rising again.

"Get up on your hands and knees," I commanded.

She just looked at me.

"Do it!" I said. "You pretend you're a little bitch in heat, and I'll fuck you from behind."

She fought back tears as she assumed the position. I then beheld her lovely woman-sized butt in all its glory. Between her legs her pussy was still engorged and glistening. I rose to my knees, and like any good male animal I worked my way behind her to line up my cock with her cunt. Once more I slid my tip in, and with just a few strokes I was in to the hilt. I could feel the tip poke the end of her cunt. I took my sweet time gliding in and out, with my hands on her butt, pleasure building with every stroke.

"You are a really great fuck," I said. "Wonderful. Well worth another load of cum."

She sniffled.

I could have thrust happily into her for an hour, but I decided it was time to give her another little dollop. I started pumping harder and deeper. She yelped as my prick hit the end of her cunt repeatedly, and I could see her wincing. The pain was good, so I made sure to jam deep with every stroke until I convulsed deep inside her in a haze of pleasure, my cock twitching my sticky splats into her. Glowing and with my desire totally satisfied, I slid out and flopped down beside her, and she slid down and rolled onto her back.

After a bit it looked like a light bulb went off, and she spoke all of a sudden. "Did my parents tell you to do this?"

"Yes, of course," I said.

"Aaaarrrgghh! I hate them. I'm never going to talk to them again! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With that, she began pummeling and kicking me.

"Stop it!" I commanded sharply. "You're mad at them, not me, right?" A flicker of a smile preceding her icy stare told me that she got the humor in that, but wasn't in the mood for it.

"If it's any consolation, lots of girls say that." After a pause I added, "You really are very beautiful."

She gave an angry sigh and put her arm over her face, but I detected a small glimmer of warmth at the compliment.

I tousled her hair a bit, then got up to call her parents. I stayed with her until they arrived. Although very rare, an occasional girl in her humiliation would do something stupid with a razor blade.

We would see if I had impregnated her, as her parents hoped.

When cats mate, the male bites and chokes the female, and then inserts his penis and thrusts briefly. As he is ejaculating, spines lift out from the side of his penis, and as he withdraws they rake the inside of the female's vagina. It is excruciating. If the female is not hurt, she does not ovulate and there will be no kittens. This is part of the life cycle of the cat.

For some reason the human reproductive cycle had changed to require something similar.

A hundred years ago, human fertility started dropping dramatically. Fewer and fewer women became pregnant, though couples were having sex more often. Then people noticed that rape victims were still getting pregnant at roughly the same rate as before. The first several people who saw evidence of this decided not to investigate it, because the implications were too horrible. But eventually all of the feminist ideology in the world couldn't suppress the conclusion. Pain and fear strongly contributed to achieving a pregnancy.

Throughout modern history, women have chosen to remain childless, and this development swelled their ranks.

Teenage girls having sex for the first time also seemed to get pregnant more than usual. Initially it was assumed that this was because, as a virgin, a girl was likely to be frightened and find the experience painful. This was often true, but it turned out to be an independent effect as well.

A woman who was childless by 25 was unlikely to conceive no matter what. But once a girl had borne a child, a healthy dose of fear and pain could lead her to conceive several more times. A young woman signing up to be raped when she was 18 would have a 70% chance of conceiving over several attempts.

As the population started plunging, people gradually came to realize that extraordinary measures would be required to keep the species going. This included many young women who did not want to submit to the fear and pain required to become pregnant. With some mental discomfort, many of them supported measures that applied to other women. Younger girls, in particular, were fair game.

The obvious step was to arrange for the rape of girls below the age of 18. At first this was restricted to girls who agreed, despite their fear, if their parents didn't object either. To no one's surprise, not too many girls volunteered. To make matters worse, it is harder to properly terrorize a girl who has agreed that she is willing to be raped.

Although it was a huge legislative battle, the dwindling supply of children led to the most controversial law ever enacted by a modern democratic society: Parents could arrange to have a daughter raped even without her consent.

I am Carl, a paid rapist. I am paid by parents to rape their daughters.

Girls growing up were vaguely aware that someone like me might arrive to ravish them in the night, and got uneasy as they reached puberty. Some parents discussed the rape authorization freely with their girls, some were evasive or noncommittal, and some promised they would never hire anyone to rape them. Not all kept the promise.

Caitlin naturally left clues as to her monthly cycle in the bathroom wastebasket. Her mother scheduled me to arrive 14 days after the start of the poor girl's last period. As required by our contract, the parents had also arranged for Caitlin's younger sister to be elsewhere on a sleepover, and they themselves left earlier in the evening. No one in my profession wants to risk being beaten up by an irate father. When a man hears his daughter scream, he has a very strong urge to protect her.

Sometimes a desire to punish the rapist persists beyond what would arise in the passion of the moment. Mothers, fathers, brothers and girls themselves all feel angry at me sometimes, and as a precaution I live in an undisclosed location with security measures, some not known to the public.

The qualifications for my profession are rigorous. First, a man has to meet all the criteria of a good sperm donor, because if successful he will be the father of the child. Next, he has to be able to get a rock-solid erection and keep it while wrestling with a hysterical girl. He has to reliably win the wrestling match, then follow through to penetration and ejaculation.

He has to use judgment and be prepared to retreat if the girl's resistance is too fierce, without taking it personally. He has to risk getting scratched, punched and bitten. This in particular can make a man angry, and a true professional has to have sufficient control that he doesn't actually injure a girl. He certainly can't be sadistic, even when provoked.

I also offer another service. I volunteer to be present at counseling sessions where the girl can express her rage at what I have done to her. It is easy enough for me to express sympathy, and to accept her anger as valid. A heartfelt apology is a little harder since I continue to perform these rapes over and over. I naturally don't volunteer the fact that I enjoy my job immensely.

By far my biggest draw is one simple fact: I have a high success rate at impregnating my girls.

I am at the top of my profession, I am in great demand, and I live very well.

Parents interested in my services have to send me an application with pictures and videos. I accept fewer than half the applications. The average girl is stuck with a journeyman rapist. Truly unattractive girls have to resort to marginal members of my profession.

I have one additional requirement which is somewhat controversial. I reserve the right to rape a girl over and over during our session if I want. The evidence on whether this helps achieve pregnancy is unclear. But the parents know it in advance, and they still pay handsomely for my services.

By now I've fathered about a hundred kids. I'm very proud of that, and I do keep track. I don't have much use for the kids themselves. Just not my thing. Fucking them into existence? Great. The messy, ornery, willful little things themselves? Not so much.

By the light from the hall I could see that the bedroom floor had a fair amount of junk on it, so I made a mental map of where I could step before shutting the door behind me. I had to get quite near the bed before I could see Mary. She lay on her back, and to my surprise she was looking at me. She did not look terrified, nor did she look excited, nor sleepy.

Fuck first, ask questions later, that was my motto.

"I'm here to fuck you, OK?" I got no reaction. I stripped and she moved over to make room as I slid under the covers. I warmed up, and influenced by the bundle of fertile femininity beside me, my erection rose quickly.

As I started approaching my prize to find the best way to get at her cunt, she quickly pulled her pajama bottoms and panties down together, in one motion, and spread her legs apart. I slid my hand between her legs and started massaging her pussy. It soon got wet. Her neutral reaction was unusual. It didn't seem likely that a baby would take in her given her seeming indifference, but I could enjoy the fuck and get paid anyway.

I rolled on top of her, slid my cock into her tight cunt, which had no detectable cherry, and started thrusting away. She said nothing, but her pussy walls were covered with a slick, slightly grainy texture, and I found the pleasure exquisite. I savored the sensations for a while, but within ten minutes felt like finishing her off. With some strong, frantic strokes I reached my climax, pumping her full of my sperm. After I had recovered a bit, I slid off to the side. She pulled her panties and pajama bottoms back up.

I was preparing to get up when she slowly, timidly turned towards me and cuddled up to my side. I expansively encircled her with my arm. Then I felt a little tremble from her, and as the trembling became more rhythmic I realized she was crying.

Crying was not unusual if a girl had been angry or scared during the rape -- or sexually aroused. She, however, had showed only quiet indifference.

It seemed pretty clear she didn't want me to get up, and I was happy to provide a warm body for her to cry against. The cries turned to sobs.

I'm not paid to be a therapist, but I do know a fair bit of psychology. "Are you crying because I raped you?" I knew the answer in advance, but I had to ask the question. She instantly shook her head.

"I am happy to listen to anything you say, and I am happy to stay quiet, and I am happy to leave. Your choice". I wasn't feeling like a saint, however. "If you have me stay, though, I'm going to fuck you again." Her brief smile didn't surprise me. The firmness with which she stuck to my side made her choice clear.

After half an hour of silence, I considered my situation. I had an intuition that this kid was suffering in some way, so I said, "Whatever is troubling you, I just want you to know there is help. I will leave you a card with numbers to call. If you don't feel safe in this house, there are places you can go. There are people you can talk to. There are drugs for mood disorders. I don't know you, but I know I want you to feel better."

She was silent. Well, I had done my bit. Now for the payoff. "But first, I fuck you again," I said, my cock rising. I turned to face her. Side by side, just as we were, would suit me fine. When she figured out the exact position I was proposing, she molded her body accordingly.

Her cunt was just as magnificent as before, as hot and smooth and grainy as before, this time seasoned with my first load of cum.

She watched my face with interest. It was hard to tell for sure, but it looked like she was feeling a little pleasure herself. When I jammed into her deep to cum again she smiled a little.

Dear Carl,

I can't say I enjoyed being raped, but it was more emotional attention than I had received in years. I told my parents I had been traumatized by the rape so they let me see a shrink. I wasn't traumatized by the rape, but I was badly depressed, and after some cool drugs I am feeling much better.

The second fuck was kind of nice, actually. It let me know you were genuine, not just some goody-goody guy. You're a genuine dirty, despicable rapist. I thank you.


I shut the door softly behind me, but she had already awoken with a start and was sitting up in bed. I said, "Don't move," but she would have none of that. She jumped out of bed, looking panicked. Although I would have to subdue her, that was all in a day's work for me, and I took time to note that she looked sexy in a long tee-shirt which covered her to mid-thigh. I strode over to grab her, but she dodged towards her closet, to the left of the bed. I followed her, but she was one fast rascal! She raced around me to the door. She got it partly open, but I arrived in time to heave my weight against it, forcing her to drag her arm back.

After a bit more parry and chase, I cornered her in an alcove where her desk was. She started hitting and kicking. I could have left at that point, citing discretion, but I was up to the challenge. Ignoring blows, I grabbed her shoulders, turned her around roughly, and slammed her upper body face down on the desk. I got her left arm twisted up behind her back, and the pain made her cry out. I told her to stop kicking, but she kicked harder, trying to connect with my shins. I twisted her arm harder. She screamed, but she stopped kicking. I let her arm slide back to a somewhat less uncomfortable position.

All of this did not especially feel like foreplay even to me, and I did not have an erection.

But as I stood behind her, pinning her up against the desk with my body, one arm holding her neck down, and the other twisting her arm, I began to consider what was in front of me. Molly was her name. Just thirteen years old. Awfully young, but starting at that age the chances she could become pregnant were 90%. She had an athletic build, shoulder-length light brown hair. I knew from the pictures she had a pretty face, but I couldn't see it just then. But I smelled her sleepy teenage girl essence, and my cock began to rise. I felt her warm butt as I held it against the desk. "If you kick me, or try to get away, I'll kill you, OK?" I would do no such thing, but saying it might increase her fear. It would probably get her cooperation.

She said softly, "No, no, please..." over and over. I moved away from her a little to unfasten my own trousers and pull them and my own underpants down. I didn't need them down all that far. I then grabbed her long tee-shirt and hitched it up. She had no panties on.

Some rapists might try to rationalize that because she had no panties on she was a slut and asking for it, but that would be ridiculous. I didn't need any flimsy rationalizations. The world, her parents, and I all thought it would be great if she got pregnant. I wanted to fuck her, conquer her, rape her, and splat some semen high in her cunt. To hell with what she thought. My better self gave free rein to my inner animal to act on those delicious urges.

I could feel that her crack was oozing a little fluid, the lubrication of the fertile female. She had that intoxicating smell too. I chanced letting go of the arm I had been holding against her back. I spread her pussy lips with one hand and stuck my cock into her a little. It was a bit like carpentry. You position a nail in the right place with fingers and give it a few taps to get it started. Then you take the hammer to it in earnest. Sensing what was coming, she pleaded more frantically.

I got both hands to her hips and shoved hard. She jumped and let out a yelp, which yielded quickly to crying. Her cunt was very slick and velvety. Despite her own opinions, her body itself was all prepared and eager to welcome a cock. I pushed all the way in. This was going to be great! I did what my body wanted, which was to thrust into her hard, over and over, my hips and muscles straining to put my tip into her as far as it would go. I made sure to be pretty rough, hoping it would cause her some pain. Soon my cock swelled even larger, my thrusts became more frantic, my urgency and pleasure built, and I finally strained myself into her as far as I could and ejaculated.

A sleepy thought emerged from my panting relief: I had a thirteen-year-old fertile virgin doubled over a desk, cunt hot and wet and open wide, filled by my dick and oozing with my sperm. Man, that felt good! I let my cock slide out, some goo sliding out with it and landing on the carpet. I stripped completely and had her lose the nightshirt, then ordered her to the bed. She was just as gorgeous as in the pictures. I told her to lie on her stomach.

I decided to ratchet up the fear a little more. "Now maybe I'll kill you anyway." She stopped crying and tensed up. I then sat on top of her butt, slid my hands around her neck, and started choking her. She naturally got frantic and started resisting with all her strength.

"Nah, just kidding," I said, though that naturally did not stop her struggling immediately. I grabbed her right arm and twisted it up behind her back again until she screamed. She stopped struggling again, and then I just lay down flat on top of her, covering her whole body, from head to toe. Pheromone time. After a while my cock starting rising again as I felt her perfect butt beneath me.

I realized I had been pretty rough with this kid, so I decided to satisfy my renewed urge in a simple fashion. The truth is a female can be in all kinds of positions and still let you at her cunt. I moved her legs apart a little, and then with one hand sent my cock downwards between her buttocks. I found her pussy lips and slid inside. I only took a couple strokes, my cock not very far in, before I spurted more semen into her, accompanied by a mild glowing relaxation. I lay on top of her for another fifteen minutes or so.

Twice was not enough for me with this hot young thing. This time I wanted her face to face. I had her turn on her back and ogled her entire beautiful body from head to toe. I mounted, slid inside and thrust slowly. She was crying softly. After ten minutes she stopped crying. I was enjoying our slow leisurely fuck. By thirty minutes she was moving her hips too. That awakened an urgency in me, and after a minute of faster strokes I jammed in all the way and gave her my third dose of semen while I enjoyed her face, tear-streaked but also struggling with a glimmer of pleasure.

I asked her if she knew what that was about, and she shook her head. Getting her pregnant. Then a light bulb went off and she understood. I'm sure whether I should be surprised or not at the number of girls who don't remember that they will very likely be raped one day. I called her parents, and left by the back door as they were coming in the front.

With one girl I had to give up because her hymen was just too tough to get through.

Another was pretty fat, and I usually didn't sign up for fat girls, but her face was gorgeous, and I was interested in trying new things. It seemed I was pushing aside rolls of fat one after the other as I burrowed between her legs, but at last I found her cunt, silky smooth and normal as on any other woman. I took the nipple of an enormous breast into my mouth and bit so hard it drew blood.

One girl looked at me with an exquisitely pure hatred as I spurted into her -- that expression belonged in an art museum somewhere, I decided.

I said before a man in my profession couldn't be a sadist. Well, I must have a hint of it in me, but I never let it get out of control. Call it licensed, tamed sadism.

Another threw up as I jammed into her from the rear after pinning her on the dirty carpet.

And another -- Zoe was her name -- screamed at the top of her lungs but somehow had such a silky cunt that I had an orgasm to remember forever, the pleasure waves just washing over me again and again.

Several girls over the years wet the bed in their terror as they first woke up. It's not my favorite odor, but I fucked them anyway.

For a couple girls I couldn't get it up. It was rare, but it happened. They got refunds.

Melinda was 19 and had contacted me herself. That already set us off on the wrong foot. Just how much genuine fear and pain can you feel when you really desperately want the guy to make you fearful and inflict pain upon you?

All of these visits work better if I show up unannounced in the middle of the night. When an independent woman contacts me directly, she's the one who knows her menstrual cycles, so she has a pretty good idea when I might be coming. That reduces surprise and fear. But at least she doesn't know which month or the exact day.

Melinda had sent me a key to her house, so the time of my arrival was up to me. Women who know I might be coming tend not to fall asleep for a long time, so I visit around 5am. I quietly let myself in and went to her bedroom. She had the covers up around her, and I was relieved to see she was asleep. I quietly stripped naked, my erection rising.

Her pretty face and short brown hair matched the pictures she had sent. I knew what the rest of her looked like too.

I yanked the covers down, and she woke startled. I landed on top of her roughly, and mashed my hand over her mouth. There was no clothing to force my way through; she slept naked. I was going to force her legs apart, but she slid them apart herself. She didn't seem very unhappy, in fact despite my mashing her face and digging my nails into her back, she was smiling. I stuck my cock into her cunt and found it well-lubricated. This was very unlikely to cause a pregnancy, but I thrust away anyway, enjoying the experience itself. After maybe five minutes, I thrust as deep inside her as her flesh would allow and I ejaculated, a male delivering semen inside a female, a pattern with the urgency and rightness of the hundreds of millions of years behind it. She came too.

Naturally no pregnancy came of that. Two months later I tried degrading words and spanking and slapping, but they were not enough. Maybe she had more than a touch of masochism in her.

I asked her if she would like me to use more unorthodox methods, and she agreed, with only the slightest hesitation.

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