Part 2: The Tape

Getting up the next morning was extremely difficult not only physically but mentally as well. My wounds had begun to heal somewhat over night and they were stiff, worst of all was my crotch area, which was red and swollen from the abuse. My mind was racing all through breakfast and my stomach churned with tension. I was ashamed and depressed about my actions, but another thought weighed even heavier on my mind. What if mom and dad found out?

I knew that I had covered up the pool and hidden the swimsuit but I was very worried about the spots on the lawn. Since today was a school day I wouldn't have time to check them or cover them up so I had to hope that neither mom nor dad would go out there before I got home from school.

After eating I got in the car with mom and dad and rode with them to the bus stop just like every morning. They would drop me off here and I could catch the bus, then at the end of the day the bus would drop me off her and I would walk the two miles home.

I never worried about anything happening to me before, there just wasn't any thing to worry about. But after yesterday I began to dread that walk.

I limped through school that day and had a hard time sitting still in my seat. The cotton panties I was wearing kept rubbing against my bare swollen vagina and irritating it further, plus the hard wooden chair hurt the scratches on my ass. When recess came I just sat around watching everyone else play dodge ball, told the teacher my stomach hurt. My friends Melinda and Terry came by to talk to me after they were knocked out of the game.

"Are you ok Sara?" Terry asked sitting down next to me with Melinda on the other side "You look kinda funny and your not wearing any eye shadow." We had just learned how to wear makeup and it was a source of pride to us, I must have been too spaced out to put any on. Without waiting for an answer Melinda started talking.

"I saw the best lipstick yesterday at the Dollar store, it was cherry red and is supposed to taste like cherries too! The package said that boys just love it! I wanted to get some but my mom said it would make me look bad." She stated sourly. She kept on this track of conversation for several minutes before either Terry or I could speak again.

"Sara did you hear me? Are you sick?" Terry inquired again Terry, Melinda, and I had been friends since our first day of kindergarten when we meet in the lunch line. They were sisters by birth, but you couldn't tell by looking at them. Melinda was short and chubby or "big- boned" as her mother called it. She had the misfortune of being the first girl in our class to develop and boy did she ever! While I was still wearing my training bra she was in a b-cup and now that I had finally moved up to a B she was actually already in a D! But because of her weight they tended to blend in rather well with the rest of her body and the boys didn't really notice.

The other girls however did notice and teased her constantly about them, which made her very embarrassed. Terry on the other hand had absolutely no body what so ever. She was actually a year older than us, fourteen, but in the same class and still didn't even need a training bra yet although she wore one anyway just to prevent being different. Terry was extremely skinny and tall; it seemed no matter how much she ate she never gained weight so the girls called her "beanpole" or "Ribs" because sometimes in gym class you could see her ribs.

Neither girl was well liked at school for these reasons, which made us natural friends because no one liked me either. I lived so far out in the woods that the other girls thought I was "dirty and inbred", so the three of us banded together. Terry and Melinda were also the closet girls to me, living only about 9 miles or so away.

"Just my stomach feels a little funny is all Terry. Thanks," I replied.

"Sure you don't want to play ball with us?" Melinda asked. I shook my head. "Ok we will be out there if you change our mind. We are still having the slumber party at your place on Saturday right?"

"Yeah, Saturday at eight." I confirmed.

Both girls then went off to play in the new game that was just starting. I knew they would be back soon because all the other girls would target them first. Sitting there in the sand with my back to the school wall I don't think I was ever more depressed before or since. I simply could not get over the shame of what had happened to me, or the fear that I would be caught. I also knew that I could never go into the back yard alone again!

I sat there for most of recess, and then went inside early before the bell rang, to use the restroom. The remainder of the day went by slowly but without incident and I took the bus towards home. When I got off the bus I checked my little watch, 2:30, and it would take me about thirty minutes to walk home which meant I should have time to clean the grass before mom and dad got home. All I had to do was get home safely which considering what happened the day before was a very daunting prospect.

So instead of walking I ran. At this point in my life my body was closer to Melinda's than it was to Terry's. I didn't have Melinda's weight or breasts but I was heavier and bustier than most girls in the class. I was also, recess games aside, totally unused to regular physical activity. I managed to run most of the first mile home, but then I simply could not go a step farther. A couple of cars passed me on the road, but none stopped to help me.

Once I reached the point of exhaustion I was just leaving the main road and heading out onto my street, it was at least another mile to my house. I stopped here to rest, there was a small tree which had fallen over I the last big storm so I sat my book bag on the ground an hopped up on the tree to rest. The main road runs straight on through the forest (the same one as at my house) and my street which branches off of it just goes deeper into the forest. The place where the two roads meet was really just a clearing with thick vine covered trees and bushes all around it.

I was very nervous about being so close to the woods, but couldn't see any place else to sit until I was rested. I had not been sitting there more than a minute or so when an old brown pickup truck drove down the main road from the direction I had come, and turned off onto my street. The truck was more rust than actual metal and the engine backfired several times as it came to a stop. The driver's door, which was on the opposite side from me, opened and a head appeared.

I started to panic, as I had no idea who this was, but I didn't want to run to the woods. That was the last place I wanted to go. The man came around the front of the truck and suddenly I recognized him, it was Mr. McGraw who lived two miles further down the road. There were two houses along the street between his house, and ours, which was at the very end of the road.

"Sara honey, is that you?" Mr. McGraw asked loudly adjusting his glasses and peering at me.

I knew the McGraw's pretty well because my parents often invited them over to the house for dinner when I was younger. My dad and Mr. McGraw also used to go fishing quite often. But Mrs. McGraw had died almost a year ago; he and dad hadn't done much fishing since then. I heard mom talking about him a few weeks ago on the phone to one of her friends. They were trying to get him to go out on a date with another woman but Mr. McGraw insisted that at 55 he was too old to date, mom seemed to think it was a silly reason.

"Yes Mr. McGraw it's me. Just taking a break on my way home from school." "Well hon., I hardly recognize you! You must have grown five feet since I last saw you! Come over here and let me get a good look at you. And call me Sam, none of this Mr. McGraw stuff out of you anymore."

I hopped off the fallen log, grabbed my bag, and went over towards the truck. Mr. McGraw was wearing a pair of old dirt stained coveralls, a plaid shirt, and a pair of boots. He had a pair of gloves stuck in one of the pockets, what looked like a roll of tape in another, and a large bowie knife dangling from a chain attached to his belt. He leaned against the truck as I came up and fished in his pocket eventually pulling out a cigarette and lighter. As I crossed onto the road and stood in front of him he lit the cigarette and put the lighter back in his pocket.

"Why you have grown at least three feet he remarked, what has your mother been feeding you?" he remarked smiling at me "I always knew you would be a very pretty girl and it looks like I was right."

"Thank you," I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"Why don't you hop in the truck and I will take you the rest of the way home, you look extremely tired, you must have been running."

I probably should have been nervous, my mother had told me never to get into a car with anyone except her or dad, but Mr. McGraw was a close friend and had always been nice to me so once he finished his smoke we both got in the old truck and drove off. We headed down the bumpy dirt street for a minute or so when Mr. McGraw turned to me.

"Sara, I need some help with something at my house. I got a wrench stuck behind my clothes drier and I cannot reach it because my hands are too big. Sense you have such small hands would you mind coming to my house and helping me get it."

"No Mr. McGraw, I don't guess so."

"Sara." He said very sternly, "I told you before to call me Sam. You're going to have to learn how to follow directions girl." He said this with a smile, but the tone in his voice made it sound less like a joke and more like a command.

"Yes sir, I mean Sam."

"Sir is fine girl, Sam is fine, there are others things that are fine too, but we can get into that later. For now just don't call me Mr. McGraw." His expression changed when he said this, but it was not a facial expression I had seen before. I assumed I had made him mad so I sat quietly as we passed my house and continued on down the road. We pulled into his driveway and up to his house, a sprawling two-story ranch style, which was surrounded on all sides by a very high wooden fence topped with barbed wire.

I didn't remember it being there the last time I was here, and it looked as if he had just put it up over the last year or so. The forest itself stopped only about ten feet from the fence, and some of the taller trees even leaned over into the yard inside. Mr. McGraw got out and opened the padlock on the two double doors, swung them open then got back in the truck and drove us in. He stopped the car, and went back outside the fence.

I turned around in the seat to watch, and was surprised to see him close the large gates and then enter back into the yard through a smaller doorway, which he padlocked behind him. That's when I began to get scared. After what had happened yesterday this seemed extremely odd and I almost demanded that he take me home instead and ask my dad for help later, but before I could say anything he started walking towards the house and motioned me inside with a wave of his arm. I got down from the truck, leaving my bag inside, and walked into the house. I distinctly remember looking back over my shoulder at those locked gates and thinking that it was very odd. If only I had been smarter.

Inside the house was dark and very smelly. The smell wasn't bad necessarily; it was just very unusual and very strong. I just assumed that Mr. McGraw hadn't cleaned much since his wife died and that the place was simply a little dirtier than I was used to. The house was essentially undecorated, there were very few pictures or paintings on the wall, the furniture was bland and sparse, and the lighting was poor. Even with most of the lights on in the hallway I had trouble seeing in great detail.

To my right was what looked like the living room with a couch and two plush chairs facing an odd looking TV. There was a coffee table in the middle of the room with boxes on it, and an old faded rug underneath the table. In front of me was a long hallway with closed doors every few feet and through the open door in the end I could see the fridge, so I assumed that was the kitchen. The stairs to the second floor were on my left and they curved up out of sight.

"Go and sit on the couch hon, be with you in just a minute." Mr. McGraw said pointing into the room on the right.

"Ok." I said. The room was fairly plain, just the rug and a painted box that looked like a large doghouse. Sitting down on the couch I reached out to coffee table and picked up one of the boxes. It was black and seemed to be made of plastic; it had a little hinge at the end that looked like it should flip up. On top of the box were two clear plastic windows and inside was what looked like tape on spools. This looked a lot like the tapes that mom and dad recorded when working at home, except for those were much smaller. On one of the sides there was a label, which reads "Kelly, 19 unedited 12/03/84".

I put the box down and picked up one or two of the others, they had similar labels one of which was "Margaret, 42 3/23/82". I noticed that one in particular because Margaret was the name Mr. McGraw's now dead wife. I sat there for quite awhile looking at the boxes before Mr. McGraw finally came back. When he entered the room he was carrying another one of the boxes and without saying a word he walked over to the odd looking TV. The TV was kinda weird because it had a machine with blinking lights sitting on top of it. The machine looked like it was hooked to the TV and had a slot in the front where Mr. McGraw pushed the box into before turning to face me.

"Do you know what this is?' He asked while bending over to turn on the TV. Without waiting for me to answer he spoke again. " This is called a VCR. It stands for Video Cassette Recorder and its quite expensive. With it I can play tapes like the one you hold in your hand there that have video on them, just like TV. I also have two cameras for making the tapes, one downstairs that's very heavy but excellent quality, and another that's portable but doesn't film quite as well. I want to show you a tape I made yesterday."

He pushed a button on the tape machine and walked across the room to sit next to me. The static on the screen soon disappeared and was replaced by a picture of a man walking through the woods. You could see his steps and hear them very clearly and it looked like he was trying to be quiet. Then the camera moved up to show a house with a large yard. In the yard was a pool. And in the pool was a girl. Me. I was so shocked I nearly fell of the couch. Before I could do anything Mr. McGraw reached over and grasped my hands pulling me towards him. He grabbed me around the shoulders with one arm, and the used his other hand to force my face towards the screen.

He was too strong for me to fight. On the screen the camera zoomed in on me getting out of the water and laying down on the blanket to read. I watched myself eventually put the book down and then drift off to sleep. The camera moved around for a few minutes until it was no more than about twenty feet from me but still in the woods peering over the fence. Then I heard a voice come from the TV.

"Ok Razor, there she is. Go fuck that little whore."

The voice was Mr. McGraw. Suddenly the camera swung down to show a dog as it ran through the woods and jumped the fence. I recognized it immediately; it was burned into my brain. It was the one that raped me the day before. The dog leaped the fence then circled around the pool to approach my prone body from upfront. Then it began.

The sniffing, the scratching, and eventually the licking. I sat there on Mr. McGraw's lap and we watched it together, me in shocked silence while he talked about what was happening. I could feel his penis through his overalls; it was erect and hard the whole way through the tape.

We watched as the dog, Razor ripped off my suit and began licking my pussy. We watched as he bit my leg and then pushed me into position, as he mounted me and took my virginity. I sat there on Mr. McGraw's lap with his cock straining through his overalls against my ass watching his dog repeatedly rape me.

When the first time was over while the dog and I rested, Mr. McGraw spoke. "Well Sara honey that sure was some performance you put on there. I really enjoyed it. As a matter of fact, I enjoyed it so much I have a hard on. I think the least you can do, since it's your fault I have it, is to help me get rid of it."

With those words he stood me up, holding my arm with one hand he undid his pants and freed his cock. It looked very long and it was kind of shiny on the end with a little bit of cum oozing out the top. I tried to pull away but he held me fast, and then yanked me down to my knees in front of him. He pulled so hard I thought for a moment he had broken my arm.

"Take your little mouth, and swallow my cock you little skuzzy whore or I am going to make sure an anonymous person mails a copy of that tape to your parents along with a machine to view it." When I still hesitated he yelled "SUCK IT NOW!"

He put one of his hands behind my hand and forced my mouth down onto his crotch. As he did I looked up into his face expecting that maybe this was a joke, maybe it was some kind of dream, but the smile he had made me sure that what was happening was real.

My heart sank from the shame and misery of the moment as his dick touched my lips and the pressure of his hand forced his cock into my moist mouth. He kept pushing until I nearly choked, I could feel the head of his cock actually going down my throat and I started to gag. That's when he first kicked me, putting the heel of his boot into my side leaving a bruise and making me start to cry.

"Don't choke on it whore. Suck it! Move your head up and down like this." His hand changed positions grabbing and handful of my hair and pulling my head up which dragged my mouth along his cock. His penis wasn't old and wrinkled like the rest of him but fairly smooth with some thick veins running along it. " Now you go back down on me, keep sucking as you do."

This went on for several minutes, him alternately dragging my young mouth up and down his cock while instructing me on the proper techniques for pleasing him. He taught me how to roll my tongue around the tip of his penis and how to use my hands to play with his balls. On the television behind me the sounds of my bestial rape played out through the room.

I could hear my cries for help and the dogs barking as he cruelly penetrated my virgin body. The tape also featured the sounds of Mr. McGraw masturbating while filming all the while urging on the dog quietly. But as I sat there on the floor with his hard cock in my mouth I started crying again every time I heard myself scream on the tape, because I realized that at least half the screams weren't of pain, but of pleasure.

It wasn't long before Mr. McGraw came in my mouth, the first time I had ever tasted human cum. Some of it flowed down my throat and into my stomach, the rest spilled from my tiny mouth and out onto my chest. As he finished I sat down onto the floor, resting on my knees and looked up at this man who I had once trusted, now a man I hated for the pain and shame he had put me through.

"Good girl," he said resting his head back on the couch and gazing down at me "Now wasn't that fun? No? Well it will be, once you get used to it. See now that I have you, I don't think I am ever going to let you go. Oh I mean you will still live with your parents, and still be there little darling girl most of the time. But in reality you will be nothing more than my playing thing, to do with as I please. And if you ever disobey me or try to tell anyone, I guess I will just have to send out this videotape, or one of the others we will soon make. And that will ruin your miserable life."

I sat there on the floor in shock. I had hoped that once he was done cumming that he would let me go, and it slowly dawned on me that it wouldn't ever happen. He continued, "Yea we're going to make some more tapes you and I. Plus Razor and some of his friends of course. Probably some of my friends too once you learn how to fuck properly. Now you remember how I told you to call me Sam before?"

I nodded.

"I didn't mean that. I want you to call me... Daddy. And I think I'll call you... Bitch. Just like a dog. Won't that be fun?"