Breaing and Entering

Preamble:

Hi, and thank you for choosing my story.

If you enjoy this story, please be kind enough to give a score at the end. This helps me to gauge the popularity of my work. - If I may - I usually like to suggest, one star each for:

Composition & Use of Vocabulary, Readability, Plot, Drama or Humour, and of course Sexual Content (or why are we all here?), but please feel free to use your own criteria if you prefer.

Finally, if you would like to know a little about my personal background, please read my Brief History.

Title:

Breaking and Entering.

Short Description:

Why don't children heed their parents' advice?

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Tags:

18 Year Old, Abduction, First Time, Forced Sex, Lesbian Group, Group Sex.

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Words:

17,770

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CAUTION:

Deviating from my usual topic of pure lesbianism, this story describes the assault, abduction, and repeated multi-sexual rape of a small Hispanic girl at the hands of an armed intruder.

I am well aware that many readers may find such an account quite unsavoury and offensive. So - if this is you, please don't ignore this notice and then complain afterwards.

You have been warned.

Note to the Reader:

For an insight into my vision of the key character, Rosa, seeSarah Hyland

as

Hayley Dunphy

in the first few series' of the Sit-Com

Modern Family.

Despite Sarah's childlike appearance in these series', she was born in November 1990, and was eighteen when the first series of

Modern Family

was made, in 2009.

BTW:

The title of this story is an intentional Double Enténdré, and doesn't simply refer to an attempted burglary.

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Breaking and Entering - A Story of Abduction.

"Goodnight Sweet Pea," Enrique said, giving Rosa's forehead a platonic kiss.

"Night Papa," Rosa replied, giving him a hug.

"Now, don't you go sleeping with your window open. You know it's not safe to leave windows open at night in a bungalow," he warned.

"OK Papa," she called back, but of course she had no real intention of heeding his advice. This heatwave had been so intense, and without the air conditioning working she knew it would be impossible to sleep with the windows closed.

Since her parents had separated, Rosa lived with her mother in the city, but she often liked to spend weekends in the country with her father. But times were hard and money was scarce, what with having to run two homes and all, so it wasn't surprising that sometimes 'non-essential' maintenance had to fall by the wayside.

She sighed, pulled on a thin nightgown and slipped into bed, but she was far too hot. Climbing out of bed she stripped off and tried again lying naked under the covers, but even with a light breeze coming through the open windows and across the room, it was still too warm, so she threw the last of the covers off and lay there with just a sheet over her, trying to resist watching the hands of the clock move round.

It was almost midnight and still she couldn't sleep. It had been so long since she had masturbated. She didn't like to here - not with her dad in the next room. What if he came in for some reason, and caught her? She couldn't bear the thought of that, yet she was frustrated. She just needed something to occupy her mind - to relax her.

She thought about her cousin Peter, and the way he had looked at her, at her birthday party. She had so wanted to go with him, but she was scared. She'd never been with a boy before and he seemed quite a big lad, and she was so tiny. She smiled to herself, wondering if he was

big

all over.

She had been wanting to lose her virginity for some time, and now she had turned eighteen, she knew it was high time she went with someone, but she didn't want it to be just

anyone.

She had saved herself for far too long to simply throw it away, and she found herself thinking of Peter. She wondered what it would be like to lie beside him at night, both in the same bed.

She imagined him lying there beside her, his hand gently caressing her naked body. But that would never happen, would it. Peter was so timid. He'd been even more scared to strike up a conversation than she was.

She thought about him and decided he was a lost cause. Even if he

was

hung like a horse (which she doubted), he'd be no use to her. Peter had no confidence - no experience. No, what Rosa needed was a

real

man. She had been having some quite intense sexual urges for some time now. What she needed was a grown man - someone who had been around a bit - someone who had a man's

equipment,

and who knew how to use it. She needed a

proper

man to take her.

She had mentioned her thoughts to a couple of her classmates. She told them someone told her that it was all girls' ambition to be raped. She told her friends that she had been getting excited by the idea, and she wondered what it would be like to have a man hold her down and just

do it.

She said it made her wet just thinking about it, but they all had the same advice. 'Be careful what you wish for', they had told her. But what did they know? They were all virgins too, weren't they?

Lying there and thinking about it brought a familiar, irresistible tingle in her groin, and she smiled to herself. She raised her knees, propping her heels close to her buttocks. Her hand wandered idly across her tummy, then up to stroke around one breast, tracing a gentle line around, then across the nipple, then the other. She closed her eyes as the other hand moved over her tummy - down between the thighs that parted instinctivly.

Now she was relaxed. Nothing could have felt more natural. Her knees parted wider as her middle finger began to stroke gently against the tiny button at the top of that moist little slit. It was so small but she had no difficulty in finding it. It was the most delightful feeling she had ever known, and in the past she had returned to it night after beautiful night.

Her knees were wide now, and with one hand between her thighs and the index finger of the other idly tracing around the sensitive areola of first one stiff little nipple, then the other, then rolling the tiny stiffening bobbles around and around, she kicked the sheet off, closed her eyes, and drifted off to an eventual, peaceful sleep.

It was some time later when she opened her eyes again. She had been sleeping with nothing over her. She looked at the clock. It was almost 3am. She had been asleep for about two hours, and at last the room felt cooler. She reached for the sheet to cover herself, believing that it was just the cool breeze that had awoken her, but - had she been dreaming?

She felt sure she had heard a light

bump.

Perhaps something else had disturbed her?

Pulling the sheet up over her she looked curiously around the room, but even with her eyes perfectly accustomed to the darkness, and the moonlight streaming in through the open window, she could see nothing out of place.

Then she heard a rustling sound. Again she looked around, fully alert now, but still could see nothing apart from the dressing table and her wardrobe in the blueish moonlight.

There was that sound again!

She sat bolt upright. Now she felt sure she could hear breathing. "Who's there?" she called, hopeful that it was just her imagination playing tricks on her.

There was another sound from the darkness. All at once she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her pulse was racing as the awful realisation struck her. There was someone in the room with her.

Before she could react, a large, dark shape quickly loomed forward, and suddenly there was a hand over her mouth, and she felt something cold touch against her throat. It was a knife.

"Doan yo' make no sound kid," came a deep, gruff voice. "Yo' wake dat man next door, I may has ta kill him."

The intruder's voice was quiet and low, as was all the subsequent dialogue between them. Rosa, of course, was fearful for both her father's safety and her own, and her assailant knew he simply couldn't risk waking the man. He didn't want to have to do anything to make the police more determined to catch him than they already were.

"Papa?" Rosa whimpered. "Please don't hurt my Papa."

"Yo' stay good an' quiet den," he grinned, showing a set of pearly white teeth through the hood he wore.

Rosa looked at the massive shape towering over her. Her father was almost six feet tall, but this man was much bigger - probably six feet three or four, and heavily built too - not fat, but clearly very muscular. She knew instantly that he would easily be able to carry out his threat.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding terrified.

"Well..." he replied, appearing to give some considerable thought to the matter, "I's come here lookin' for money or jewels..." he began.

"We don't have anything like that," Rosa quickly interrupted. "We're just a poor family."

"Poor?" he questioned, reaching out to touch the bed-sheet she held in front of her otherwise naked body. "Dese is silk sheets. Poor dudes doan have silk sheets."

"There isn't any money," she insisted.

"Doan matter none honey," he replied. "Looks like I's found me sometin'

way

better."

His big, white eyes opened wide as he stared down at the small shapely girl, struggling to hide herself behind the thin sheet.

'Oh my God', she thought, quaking with fear. She couldn't bear to even imagine what he might have in mind for her, although in her heart she knew the answer. She could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't interested in discussing current affairs. It was obviously a significantly different affair that was on his mind.

She was frail and vulnerable, and there wasn't a thing she could do to defend herself. Oh, how she wished she had taken heed of her father's advice. Secretly she had longed for a situation like this, but now, faced with the harsh reality of it and the unknown outcome, she was terrified.

She'd seen that sort of look in the eyes of men many times before. She had seen them in the town, in the parks and coffee shops, sitting on benches or leaning against walls, some pretending to be reading a newspaper or a book, or maybe doing something on their mobile. Often they would be wearing dark glasses in a futile effort to hide their eyes that discreetly followed the girls, but she knew what they were doing. They were booby watching - or booty watching.

Sometimes the target of their attention might be a young woman, or occasionally a more mature woman with a beautiful face or an attractive figure, but more often than not the subject of their interest would be the pretty young girls out shopping in the town. She knew which ones were watching her - she could feel their eyes on her as she walked past, mentally undressing her, and it made her skin crawl, but there was little or nothing she could do about it.

She liked to wear modern clothes - of course she did. All young women like revealing, often skimpy clothes - the type that complimented the attractive features of their bodies, perhaps exposing some bare midriff or high thigh, like a short, tight crop-top, a short skirt, or maybe a pair of brief shorts that hugged the bottom and showed off their shapely legs and the pert little derriere. Rosa didn't wear things like that for the old men, although she knew they would appreciate them. No - she wore scanty clothing to compete with her peers - the other girls who all seemed to try and go one better than the next girl, to attract the most handsome or fanciable guy. It was just an unfortunate fact of life in these modern times, that the old guys would oggle any pretty girl too.

She often noticed the old men watching her and other girls as they walked past, studying the tight crop-tops clinging to those firm, shapely bodies, and the tight, short skirts, or the bum-hugging leggings that often revealed the elasticated line of a girl's panties, or occasionally demonstrating that she didn't actually have any.

She would watch them, lusting over the occasional passing bare shoulders or exposed midriff, or even the shapely thighs, hoping for a glimpse of a little more flesh, or a flash of panties as the breeze lifted the short skirts. And if a pair of girls happened along, walking arm in arm, or just moving together a tiny bit closer than some might consider morally acceptable, the guys would watch them all the closer. She knew exactly what they wanted, and she felt empowered by the fact that she knew they could look but not touch.

There were times when she had even goaded them, pushing her chest out and walking past so slowly and so close, they could almost smell the sexual allure emanating from her. She and her school friends called it

Prik Teasing.

More than once she had been invited to join school friends going into the town on a weekend. "What for?" she would ask. "We're going Prick Teasing," she would be told by her laughing girlfriends.

It had become a sport with some of them. Out in the street they could tease and torment the men, secure in the knowledge that they couldn't touch. But that was out in the town - out in full view of the general public. This was quite a different situation. Those were feeble, pitiable old men. She and her friends felt safe tormenting them. But here? Here she was clearly in danger. This was a very fit and strong, virile man, in a very private setting, and she had no doubt whatsoever that he was capable of doing anything he wanted with her, and even if she tried to resist, it would do her no good. She knew she would be completely at his mercy.

"Where yo' mama at?" Bruno asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"She doesn't live here," Rosa replied in a whisper, taking care not to risk waking her father.

"Hmmm... yo' got brothers an' sisters?"

Rosa shook her head.

"Who else live here den?"

Another shake of the head confirmed they were quite alone, apart from her sleeping father in the next room.

Bruno smiled to himself. "Sometin' I gots ta know honey," he said. "How old you is?"

She hesitated, thinking for a moment. If she told him she was eighteen, he would almost certainly rape her. 'Fifteen' she thought. If he thinks I'm underage, maybe he'll let me go, or just molest me a little. Oh but, there are so many men who wouldn't think twice about having their fun with a fifteen year old schoolgirl. Many would like that even better,' she reasoned to herself, thinking back to the looks that the dirty old men often gave pretty schoolgirls in the town.

"Twelve," she replied, "... on my next birthday," she quickly added. "Why? How old are you?" she asked bravely, trying to divert his thoughts.

Bruno was taken aback. He hadn't expected to be quizzed. He thought for a moment. He didn't want to give too much away. The more he told her, the more chance there was of getting caught.

"Me?" he asked. "I's twen'y eight..." he paused, then with a laugh, "on my nex' birthday," he added, mocking her.

"Why are you wearing that mask?" she asked.

He raised his hand to touch the balaclava style hood on his head.

"Doan want no-one seein' what I looks like," he replied.

"Why?" she asked.

"Cayn't have no-one idenify," he told her.

"What about your voice?" she asked.

He considered the idea for a moment. The distinctively deep sound of his voice hadn't occurred to him.

"What yo' name kid?" he asked.

"Rosa," she replied. "What's yours?"

'Hmmm', he thought. 'Typical thing a kid would ask. But I can't tell her my name. That would be stupid'. "You can call me Big Daddy," he told her.

"Why Big Daddy?" she asked.

"You ain't proper seen me yit honey," he told her, "but when you does, den you see why," he laughed. "Man, yo' gots ta be da cutest li'l kid I's seen in a loo-ong time. Look like I's gonna have me my first li'l white kid," he grinned.

'Oh no! I really think he does plan to rape me,' she thought, shaking with fear.

"Dat remind me," he added. "I ain't seen yo' proper yit."

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, trembling.

"What'd I jus' say?" he replied.

He stared at the fear struck tiny face, then down at the delectable shape of her naked, childlike form, obscured only by the thin sheet gathered in front of her, and he began to breathe heavily. He licked his lips, telling her, "Look like I's gonna have me a pretty li'l kid. We's gonna do everthin' honey. Jus' everthin'."

"Oh God, no," she whispered. 'He really is going to rape me', she thought. 'He thinks I'm a child and he still wants to rape me'.

She shook her head, cowering away, but he reached for the sheet and gripped it tightly at one side, holding the knife to her throat. "Let go honey," he said softly. "Jus' let go."

She shook her head in defiance, so he pressed the tip of the blade up under her chin. "Do it honey," he told her. "No point gettin' hurt fo' jus' a look," is dere?"

He tugged the sheet to one side, and she closed her eyes as it began to slip from her grip. Now he could see the shape of one firm young breast, still just hidden by the top of the sheet as he pulled it downward.

"Let go honey," he warned her, pressing the tip of the blade a little harder under her chin. Now one beautiful dark nipple popped into view, and he licked his lips, anticipating the taste of her delicious looking flesh.

"Yo' wan' me ta hurt yo' honey?" he asked.

"No! Please," she almost sobbed. "Please don't hurt me," she whined.

"Den do what I tells ya," he warned. "Han's on yo' head," he ordered.

"Please. Don't," she sobbed.

"Sorry honey, but I gots ta," he smiled. "Han's up now," he repeated.

She did as he told her, releasing her grip on the sheet, and he grinned lustfully, pulling the material gently sideways to slowly reveal her beautiful bare breasts.

Rosa was an elfin sort of girl, quite small in stature and build, with a truly youthful, round face, but remarkably shapely for her meagre size. Were it not for her attractive figure, she might easily pass for a twelve year old. There was no sag or droop to her small breasts, save that of a little normal gravity pulling the shape of her firm young 'A/B' Cup figure slightly downward. The general appearance was one of youthful perfection, the skin being golden tanned, with pert little, dark chocolate coloured nipples that seemed to exhibit a beautiful shiny glaze in the blue tinted moonlight.

"How old yo' say you is?" Bruno asked, curiously.

"Twelve?" she replied, uncertainly.

"Hmmm... You doan sound too sure." He looked her up and down. "You looks more like about fourteen, maybe fifteen", he told her. "Put yo' hands down."

She obeyed, reaching for the sheet to pull up over her again, but he stopped her. "Uh Uh. No no honey. I din tell ya to do dat. Han's down honey. By yo' sides," he ordered, raising the blade again. She sat there on the bed, exposed to the waist, as he studied her half naked body.

He had never seen anything quite so exquisite. She was so slight in build. The child-like face on a tiny girl, with firm, ripe little breasts, looking so - so, delectable. Her shock of long, straight hair looked completely black in the darkness, and reached down to her waist behind her. The waist itself was slender almost beyond belief. He reached his hand out before her, and she flinched away.

"Doan worry. I ain't gonna touch ya," he said, stretching his hand across in front of her tummy. Bruno's hands had a span of almost ten inches, and he imagined he could reach both hands around her waist and touch them together without squeezing at all. That would make her waist about eighteen inches in girth. 'Such a tiny little body', he thought. How he would love to fuck this one. He'd had smaller girls, but there was something about this one that was different. She had perfectly shaped little tits. So round and firm. Just the sight of her semi-naked body, sitting before him on the perfect venue for their ultimate coupling, made his cock stiffen. He wanted to suck those delicious young tits. He wanted to taste her sweet juices. But most of all, he needed to fuck her.