Manchester Pt 04

Louetta here. Everybody in this story is over eighteen. In this one I'm on a 30-footer out past Manchester Harbor with a lacrosse-playing friend of my brother who's about to, well, rape me. Sort of.

"Lie down on the berth!" he commanded and I did it. I wanted to see what he was going to do. I wanted to be tied to the berth, just because I wanted it, I loved shit like that. I was still determined somehow he wasn't going to have me. He got some rope. There is always rope on boats.

"Spread your hands and feet out to the corners!" I wasn't too tall, but there was barely enough room for me to spread-eagle myself on that little ship's berth.

"I'm going to tie you down. You'll enjoy it!"

"OK, go ahead." I teased him to make him think I wanted it. Of course, I wanted nothing more. To be tied up, that is. Not to be raped. So he tied me. Roughly. With four pieces of rope, first my wrists and then my ankles, to the four corners of the bed. I was spreadeagled like a starfish, ready to be fucked. He stood up and started stripping off his clothes. I watched him. He had a marvelous body. Finally, he got to his underpants and pulled them off. He had an enormous dick, bigger than any I'd ever had in me, and it was already rock hard from his anticipation of having my body. He moved to get on top of me and for a moment I feared he might indeed rape me.

"Don't do this, Billy, this is kidnapping and rape. You'll go to jail. What are you going to do, kill me afterward?"

"If it would shut you up I might. Come on, you want this and you can't prevent it." By now he was astride me, on his knees, outside my legs. He leaned over and grabbed my right breast and started sucking on my nipple.

"Get off!" I said, but he didn't stop. Now he was doing the same to my left breast. I couldn't believe how turned on I was. It looked like I was really going to be raped. Now he moved his legs inside of my legs, still on his knees, still sucking on my tits.

"No, Billy. No! Just let me go, please. I won't tell anybody!" But now he was down off his knees and his body was on top of me, and he was positioning himself to put his dick inside me, and I thought, this is it, I'm about to be raped. And it felt worse than ever I had imagined it would feel, and I understood how my girlfriend felt when the Harrison boys raped her, and they did it over and over. I felt the tip of his dick, wet against my girlhood, and he was about to guide it into me, and then I felt the tip going in. I screamed. I screamed again. I struggled. I pulled on the ropes that held me to the bed. I pleaded with him. I screamed some more and pleaded some more. I pulled at my ropes as hard as I ever pulled on anything and finally one of my hands came loose, and I started pounding on him as hard as I could. Then he hit me, and hit me again, right in the face, and it knocked me silly, and he retied my hands.

And now I was his. I was half unconscious and just lying there unable to fight back, tied down and helpless. Then I passed out. And then something happened. Instead of going inside me, he stopped. In the end, he wasn't able to rape me. After a time he got off me and just sat there on the edge of the berth. Minutes went by and I regained my senses. I remembered the tip of his dick going in me, which technically means he raped me, but I could tell he hadn't really. Finally, I spoke.

"Why didn't you do it?" He just shrugged.

"You had me, I was helpless, you could have fucked me a million times. Why not?"

"I don't know, Lou."

"You can't force me to fuck."

"Maybe not now, but after a night at the mast, you'll change your tune."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm going to tie you to the mast. Sort of like Odysseus, only this time it's the siren that gets tied."

"What are you talking about?"

"You'll see. By morning you'll beg me to fuck you. If you're not frozen stiff." He untied the ropes that held my legs spread wide on the bed and then untied my wrists. He pulled me off the bed and bound my wrists behind me. Then he dragged me topside, still buck naked, and forced me to the mast. By now the sun was low in the September sky and it was really getting chilly there on open water. I heard six bells ring.

"I'm cold!"

"You'll be a lot colder when it gets dark and we get underway."

"Fuck you."

"Please do. Now stand with your back to the mast." I had no choice, he just shoved me up against it. "Why are you doing this?"

"My boat needs a figurehead and you need some convincing." I didn't know then what kind of convincing I was going to be subjected to.

"Put your hands behind the mast." I did. He went behind the mast and started tying my wrists tightly together behind it.

"That hurts!" And it did. He left me alone in the cold to suffer. Two hours went by. I heard eight bells ring. And I was absolutely frozen.