The monster remained dormant for just over three years. During that time I was constantly afraid of his reawakening, especially while on dates with girls who didn't want to put out. Thankfully my theory that the monster only stirred for Bella turned out to be true.

I went through a handful of girlfriends, all appropriate for my age, and I treated them well. I became known at my college for being a romantic: flowers, walks on the beach, presents for no reason, all that stuff. It also became known that I was a generous and gentle lover in bed. I think I was so generous and caring with these women because I was terrified of the monster returning and thought that by being nice, friendly, and loving I could keep him at bay.

I was proud of the reputation I earned but sometimes it made me feel like a hypocrite. After all, I knew about the monster in me. I had seen it. I had felt it. Yet I hadn't ever been punished for it. That always made me wonder: why?

Why hadn't Bella gone to the cops? Why hadn't she told her parents about what I'd done? But she hadn't and I was free and pursuing a degree at a local college where I was having the time of my life. Parties, dates with loose women, and the occasional serious relationship took up most of my social life. It became easy to forget, or at least ignore, the fact that I had raped a defenseless child back when I was 17.

That changed the night the monster reared its head for the second time.

One night after recently breaking up with a girlfriend I totally struck out at one of the most insane parties I'd ever been to. I was drunk and horny when I returned to the house I was sharing with several college friends. I needed to get off before going to sleep so I went onto my computer and fired up an image board famous for its ability to provide awesome porn.

I was twenty years old now and it'd been three years since the monster had appeared. That monster appeared again, though, at the sight of a picture of Bella that had been posted on the image board. The accompanying message read, "Best slut I've seen in a while, video here".

My mouth went dry as I stared at the thumbnail image. I was drunk, sure, but even so I was positive that the picture was of Bella. My Bella, Bella Larson, my best friend's little sister.

She wasn't so little anymore, a fact I discovered after downloading the linked video. When it started to play I felt the monster begin to stir.

In the video Bella was sitting on a small wooden chair and the smile on her face was betrayed by the obvious sadness in her bright blue eyes. I stared at the video in shock. I was drunk and kept thinking that must be it. I was just drunk. There was no way this was really a sex video of my dear, precious Bella. But after a few soundless moments of her squirming in her seat, obviously uncomfortable as she smiled at the camera, a voice asked her, "So, tell me who you are."

The sound of her voice confirmed that it was, indeed, her. She said, "I'm a cheating cum whore, sir."

She was still smiling but her voice also revealed how nervous she was. I stared at her as she anxiously adjusted her lacy pink bra and crossed her much more mature legs together. The panties she was wearing matched her bra and that was all she was wearing. Her light blonde hair was pulled back with a tie and the sight of her pretty oval face was to die for.

This wasn't the little girl I had raped three years earlier. This young woman was much more mature with full b-cup breasts, a slender waist that had shed most of its baby fat, and absolutely magnificent long, toned legs. It was definitely Bella but an older, more developed Bella. She wasn't quite a full grown woman yet given the youthful nature of her face and her obviously adolescent body but if she wasn't the very definition of "jailbait" and don't what is.

"Get on your knees and remove your bra, cum whore," the gruff voice of the camera operator said.

I watched in awe as the girl complied with the request. When I saw her perfectly formed naked breasts I nearly fapped right then and there. They were wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. The monster inside me suddenly became outraged that I wasn't the man holding the video camera.

"You're a cum whore by your own admission and cum whores need cock," the stranger's voice said. Bella nodded at that. She then opened up her beautiful young mouth and I watched in a trance as the man operating the camera aimed it down to reveal that he already had his cock out and that it was hard. The monster in me grunted in annoyance, though: his cock was nothing special, average at best. Bella deserved a real cock. My cock.

She then proceeded to give the man a blowjob or, rather, endure a blowjob. The man basically fucked her face. Tears leaked out of her eyes and her cheeks often turned blue as the man rutted her mouth while calling her every filthy name you can imagine. The image was shaky as the man who held it used his other hand to pull her pretty head down onto his cock over and over again but every time he reminded her to look into the lens I saw fear and shame in her large, beautiful blue eyes.

She doesn't want to do this to him, I thought irrationally. She wishes it was me!

I got a raging boner watching her face get raped like that but I didn't even consider touching my cock. No, it wasn't right that I should have to settle for a fap session. It should be me raping her face. It should be my cock making her gag, it should be me making her eyes tear up, turning her face into a mascara-coated mess. When the man finally pulled his cock out of her mouth and jerked off while she breathed heavily and then shrieked when gobs of his thick cum splashed across her already messy face the monster had had enough.

I closed the video file. I stood up, a lot more sober now and with the monster clearly in control. I stormed out of my room, down the stairs, and toward the front door. One of my roommates who was lounging on the couch watching a movie said, "Yo, Pete! Where ya going?"

"Nowhere," I grumbled. "There's just something I need to do."

I'd never driven while drunk before but the monster was in control and he was sober. During the hour long drive to Bella's house I sobered up even more and began to wonder what the hell I was doing. It was 2am when I got to the Larson's house and I parked my car across the street from it and just sat there, staring up at the window of Bella's bedroom, lamenting the fact there were no lights on.

What the hell was I thinking?, I wondered. That she'd be awake, waiting for me?

I began to weigh my options. I knew where the Larsons hid a spare key. The neighborhood was the very definition of Quiet Suburbia and the chances of anyone noticing me sneaking into the house were incredibly small. But even if I did, what then? Sneak up to Bella's bedroom, get what the monster had come for, and hope to god I didn't wake up her parents? Dale didn't live there anymore but her parents' bedroom was right next to hers. Surely they would hear me if I raped their daughter in the very next bedroom.

Just as I was beginning to gain control over the monster and started to consider driving back to my college, though, I saw the front door of the house open. It was dark and hard to tell but the size and shape of the person slipping out of the house were right. It was her. It was Bella.

Where the fuck is she going at 2am?, I wondered. The monster gained control of me again as I watched her sneak around the side of the house. It was easier to make out her features, now, in the moonlight. It was definitely her, dressed in a light white tee shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. I had to strain my neck to see around the corner of the house but it was obvious she was up to no good. She kept looking around nervously but not at the street or my car. She was keeping a watchful eye on the neighbor's house, obviously concerned somebody there might see what she was doing.

After a minute or two she seemed comfortable again. She brushed her blonde hair behind her ears and then bent over, rummaged around some leaves that were piled near the base of her house's chimney, and produced something.

It was a pipe. More specifically, a bowl. It was the same place Dale had always hidden his behind a loose rock in the foundation of the house.

She was smoking pot! That explained the clandestine behavior. I watched as she turned her back to the street and took her first hit from the bowl.

That was it. That decided everything. Without a thought I reached into my backseat where it just so happened I'd left my toolbox the week before. I opened it, pulled out a roll of duct tape, and as quietly as possible exited my car.

My heart was racing a mile a minute as I approached her. I was walking slowly, as quietly as possible, and thankfully it was dark and she was preoccupied. Even so the moon was full and bright in the sky and if she turned around she would see me coming. That ended up happening, too, when I stepped on a twig and she spun around to see what had made the noise.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of me. "Puh--Pete?!" she gasped in a soft voice of surprise as a plume of marijuana smoke exhaled from her mouth. "What ... what are you ... why are you here?"

If she hadn't been high she probably would have started running right away. Instead she just looked at me with a dazed look on her gorgeous young face as I started to march toward her at a quicker pace. It wasn't until I was within five feet of her that the alarm bells sounded in her brain and a look of total fear came over her. At that moment she dropped the bowl, turned toward the backyard, and began to run.

I was too close, though. I'd been a linebacker in high school and I hadn't forgotten how to tackle. The monster in me roared as I crushed her, dropping her small body onto the lawn as she shrieked from pain and fear.

She was about to really scream, I knew, so the first thing I did was clamp my hand over her mouth as she struggled beneath me. I hissed into her ear, "If you scream I'll fucking kill you. You fucking hear me? I'll kill you but not before I send Dale and your parents that video of you sucking cock. Got it?"

She froze beneath me. Her body literally went rigid. I repeated, "I asked you a question! Are you going to fucking scream if I let go?"

Several seconds passed but then she shook her head. Confident that she wasn't lying I let go of her mouth and all I heard were choking sobs of fear. With a grin on my face I roughly pulled her arms behind her back and used the duct tape to bind her wrists together.

"Don't hurt me!" she whispered as I wrapped the tape around her tiny wrists. "Puh-please, please!"

"Shuddup!" I hissed. After her wrists were adequately bound together I stood and pulled her up to her feet. I gripped her restrained arm as painfully as I could and shook her as she tried to remain quiet while she sobbed pathetically. I said, "Now we're going to go out to my car, got it? Nice and quick and quiet. If you try to run or scream or anything I swear to God I will make you watch as I use my laptop to e-mail that video of you sucking cock to your parents, your brother, and the entire staff of Edison High. Understand?"

She nodded her head and it was with some satisfaction that I watched her struggle to suppress her sobs as I marched her in the direction of my car. I set a brisk pace and looked up and down the street in paranoia but other than Bella's muffled crying it was completely quiet on the suburban street. When we got to the car I pushed her into the passenger seat, quietly closed the door, then quickly ran around to the driver's side.

Once I was inside the car and I fired up the engine she whimpered, "Wh-where are you ... taking me?"

"Shut up," I said. The truth was I was making things up as I went along. I'd lied about having a laptop computer, for example, and it had been a lie I hadn't even considered until the words left my lips. It was as though the monster had everything worked out even if I did not.

As I drove the car through the sleepy subdivision Bella continued to cry. After a minute or two Bella whispered, "How ... how do you know about that ... that video? Did Mr. Gauge show it to you?"

I gave her a blank stare and then fixed my eyes back on the road. My heart was pounding in my chest and the adrenaline was flowing through my veins but I knew who she was talking about. Mr. Gauge had been my biology teacher back when I'd been a Freshman at Edison High. I said, "Is that the man in the video? Mr. Gauge?"

She sniffled but eventually nodded her head.

"Why'd you do it?" I asked cruelly. "You giving blowjobs for passing grades now? Are you that much of a whore?"

"I had no choice!" she cried. "He caught me ch--cheating on a test. He said he'd report me if I didn't have sex with him."

I shook my head in disbelief. I'd always liked Mr. Gauge and couldn't believe he'd be the kind of teacher who would blackmail a student. It dawned on me that maybe I wasn't the only one who had a monster inside that stirred at the thought of fucking beautiful young Bella. Maybe it was some sort of pheromone she exuded that triggered evil behavior in certain men.

I said, "Why the video?"

She sobbed for a minute then said, "He promised ... he promised he wouldn't make me have sex with him anymore if I did it. He promised he wouldn't show it to anyone. Wh-why did he show it to you?"

I started to laugh as I maneuvered the car out of the subdivision. I looked over at the slut with her hands bound behind her back and the monster spoke through me with genuine satisfaction. Her now ample breasts were straining against her tee shirt and I licked my lips at her heaving chest. I said, "I found it on the Internet, bitch. He posted the video online."

She gasped. "No ... no! He promised ... he promised it was just for him!"

I chuckled. "He lied," I said. "I downloaded it just tonight. Me and about a million other /b/tards. How's that make you feel? Perverts all over the world jerking off to you sucking his cock right now?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't. She had completely lost it. She was crying so hard and so intensely that the part of me who was still there felt pity for her. That part of me, though, was small. The monster was enjoying her humiliation. The monster wanted to further it.

As we approached the old abandoned church a few minutes later I realized where the monster was bringing me. The church had been shut down years earlier and Dale and I had used to come here to smoke pot or have sex with our girlfriends. There were no lights, it was located on an ill-trafficked road, and thus it provided a great deal of privacy. I pulled the car into the cracked and pot-hole ridden parking lot and maneuvered the car around to the back of the falling apart church. Once my car was safely hidden from the road by the decrepit building I parked and killed the engine.

I stared at the sobbing girl for a long moment. The time for talking was over. The monster wanted to see her naked but that presented a problem since I had bound her wrists behind her back. The monster, though, knew instantly what to do.

I reached into the toolbox in the backseat again and rummaged through it for a few seconds before I found the box-cutter. After turning on the interior lights of my Toyota Corolla I grabbed Bella's young body and roughly repositioned her so that she was leaning back against the passenger side door. She shrieked at the rough way I treated her body but her shriek became almost hysterical at the sight of the razor blade I was wielding from the end of the small metal box-cutter.