Breaing Her Innocence

Before you begin to read, I just want to clarify that this story involves pretty intense non-consensual activities, more than just a little struggle. Please do not downvote or comment just to complain about how gruesome things get. All of this is fiction and only a fantasy. Everyone involved is over the age of 18. So, please read at your own risk and enjoy!

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Claire felt barely awake as she checked off the last item on her clipboard. She blinked her blurry eyes as she examined the order number on the dark gray dresser one more time before marking it down. Thankfully, the otherwise dark interior of the van was dimly lit with auxiliary lights so she could actually see. The furniture delivery for the day was almost ready to go. She was the one who made sure everything was organized and correct before the drivers took off.

It wasn't her job to haul these heavy pieces--she left that to the strong moving guys--but without her final check, there would be missing or wrong furniture, which would lead to customer complaints. She took pride in her meticulous precision, though at this particular moment, she wasn't feeling very sharp.

Claire yawned as she stepped out of the van, rubbing her eyes. It was barely 7:30 a.m., and the regret of staying out late last night was hitting her hard. The cool morning air was refreshing, but it barely helped her to feel energized. She and her friends had spent the late-night hours at the arcade. It had been fun--so fun that she shrugged off the fact that she had her early morning shift. But high school was ending soon, and she wanted to make the most of her time left with her friends. After the summer, they would all separate and go to different colleges. She had turned 18 only the month prior, and although she technically was an adult, she sure didn't feel ready to be one.

Dragging herself over to the last van, she climbed inside and pulled out her clipboard again. There was a blue velvet two-piece sectional couch, an outdoor coffee table, a brown nightstand, and a recliner chair. After matching the order numbers together, she checked them all off.

A buzz came from her phone, and she slowly pulled it out, seeing a message from her friend. It was a video from last night.

Curious, Claire clicked play. The screen showed her at the arcade, going all out on the dance machine. Her arms were flailing and her feet were stomping all over. It was embarrassing but not surprising for her. In her friend group, she was always known as the wild one.

Claire grinned as she walked toward the back of the van, still watching the video.

Then her foot struck the leg of the coffee table. With a startled gasp, she stumbled forward, and her phone flew out of her hand. It skidded across the van floor and disappeared under the sectional couch. Meanwhile, she barely caught herself from landing on top of the coffee table, bracing her hands against the hard metal surface of the van's side panels.

"Ugh, seriously?" Claire muttered. She turned her head toward the couch and didn't even see the glow of her phone screen. It was wedged far underneath.

Sighing, Claire dropped onto her stomach and wiggled closer. She stretched her arm under the couch as she reached for the phone.

Nothing.

With a grunt, she pushed herself forward, wedging her body underneath the couch. Her fingers barely brushed the edge of the phone case. She was so close. Just a little more--

Claire sent her body even deeper into the couch and extended her arm, straining every muscle, until finally--

finally

--her fingertips flicked against the phone, pushing it just enough to send it sliding into her hand.

"Gotcha," Claire mumbled triumphantly, gripping the device.

Relieved, she exhaled and went to slide out.

But she didn't move. Frowning, Claire tried again. She wiggled her hips and shifted her shoulders.

Nothing.

Her stomach tightened. She was stuck.

Claire dug into the metal floor with her knees and pressed her palms against the floor, attempting to push the couch off just a little bit. But the incredibly heavy couch barely budged. She tried twisting her torso and kicking her legs, but still nothing happened.

Her pulse sped up and she began to panic.

She was

really

stuck.

This couldn't be real. She had one job--to check furniture off a list--and now she was trapped under a couch in the back of a delivery van. It was too ridiculous to even believe. What would her manager say?

Claire felt her mind race. If she just stayed here and waited, the delivery drivers would soon find her like this--in such a vulnerable position with her butt sticking up.

No. Absolutely not.

Claire scrolled through her contacts. It was hard to see her screen in her compromised position but she could make out the names. There was only one person she could call--her coworker Blake--who had clocked in at the same time as her.

Claire groaned at the thought. Blake was the last person she wanted to see her like this. He had approached her in the break room on her first day, asking for her number, and she reluctantly gave it to him. Ever since then, he had been flirting with her and constantly inviting her over to his place. She stopped texting him after a while, but he didn't seem to get the message. He was annoying, cocky, and already teased her every chance he had. If he found her like this, she would never hear the end of it.

But...she had no other choice. Better him than her manager or the delivery drivers.

Taking a deep breath, she tapped his name.

After a few rings, he answered. "Yo, Claire. Are the vans ready?"

"Yeah, they're ready," Claire answered. "But...I need help."

Blake paused. "With what?"

She gritted her teeth. "I'm kind of...stuck."

There was a moment of silence. Then, laughter. Loud, obnoxious laughter.

Claire groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. "Blake, I swear--"

"How the hell did you get stuck?" Blake asked, snickering.

"I...I don't want to talk about it," Claire sighed frustratingly. "Hurry up and help me; I'm in van number five."

Still laughing, he replied, "I'm on my way. Try not to go anywhere."

Claire rolled her eyes. "

Hilarious.

"

A minute or so later, she heard footsteps approaching. Then, the creak of someone climbing into the van.

Then--more laughter.

"No way!" Blake wheezed, slapping his knee. "This is

too

funny."

Claire groaned. "

Shut up

and help me."

She heard him crouch beside her. "Damn, you're really jammed in there."

"No shit!" Claire snapped, wiggling herself. "Now make yourself useful and pull me out!"

"Alright, alright." Blake gripped his hands on her waist, making her flinch, and he gave a firm tug.

Nothing.

Blake sighed. "Wow, you really

are

stuck."

"Less talking, more pulling!" Claire spat, losing her composure.

But instead of pulling, Claire felt his hands leave her waist. She heard him stand up and his footsteps retreated. Then, to her confusion, she heard the familiar sound of the van doors shut.

Her stomach dropped. "Blake?"

"Relax," Blake said casually. "Just closed the doors for some privacy."

"Privacy?" Claire echoed, her mind spinning. "What for?"

Blake didn't answer, which only made her even more anxious. What was he talking about?

"Uh...Blake?" Claire was really worried now.

She heard him kneel down again and felt his fingers slide into the waistband of her leggings.

Before she could even protest, he gave a hard yank. And just like that, her pants had been pulled down.

"Oh my god!" Claire yelped in alarm. She froze, feeling the cold air inside the van around her exposed rear.

"Damn, it's even nicer up close," Blake commented, his voice full of purpose.

Claire was bewildered. "My

butt

?"

"Yeah, what else?"

"I..." Claire's voice trailed off. What was happening? Did Blake maybe

accidentally

pull her leggings down when trying to help free her? That didn't make much sense, though. And why was he checking her butt out?

"Blake, if this is your attempt at making fun of me--"

Claire's voice was suddenly cut off and her blood ran cold when she felt Blake's hands on her bottom as he began to massage her cheeks. She flinched hard and her head got bumped into the underside of the couch.

"Blake!" Claire squealed in shock. "What are you doing?"

He didn't respond, and his hands began to knead hard into the soft skin of her cheeks. She couldn't help but whimper as she felt her butt being squeezed.

"I knew this day would come." Blake's voice gave her chills from how devious it sounded. "But I didn't think it would be so soon."

"This day?" Claire repeated, trying to make sense of it all. "What are you talking about?"

Blake suddenly removed both his hands from her butt, but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, both hands returned, landing on both her cheeks to give her a hard spanking.

Involuntarily, she let out a moan as she felt the sensation. Then she realized what she had done, and her eyes widened in panic.

"Blake!" Claire gasped, her voice strained as her body trembled in fear. "Stop! Why are--"

As if things couldn't get any worse, she suddenly felt Blake's fingers grab hold of her panties, then quickly pull them to the side. She quickly jerked her hips around, but then she was reminded that she was stuck--completely stuck.

"What are you--"

She didn't have a chance to finish that sentence before she felt a finger slip inside her vagina.

"OH!" Claire let out a half-moan, half-whimper. Her legs bucked wildly, but her movements were suppressed by the couch wedged on her.

Blake's fingers didn't stop as she felt them probing her clit and feeling it all over. He wasn't rubbing it really fast, but rather in a slow and circular motion up and down her clit. She trembled all over--from shock, horror, confusion, and stimulation--trying to process it all. Why was he doing this to her?

She let out a louder moan as his fingers continued to explore around, and she tried to kick her legs up, which made no difference.

"Stop! STOP!" Claire screamed, her volume muffled by the bottom of the couch.

Suddenly, Blake's fingers darted back out, making a quiet but audible smacking sound from the moisture as he exited her pussy.

Claire was fully terrified now. She was wedged deep under the couch, her leggings were at her ankles, and she was being violated by Blake with no way of stopping any of it.

"What's wrong?" Blake asked casually. "You're so wet right now; I know you're loving this."

"Loving this?" Claire's voice cracked hard. "I never even said you could touch me! Now hurry up and pull my pants up! This isn't funny!"

Blake just chuckled coldly. "Oh, I'll pull your pants up. But

after

I have my fun."

She felt a chill run down her spine. The way he said it was a clear indication that he had his mind set. And since she was hopelessly stuck, there was nothing she could do but protest.

"Blake, stop!" Claire whimpered, trying to find any way she could to put an end to this uncomfortable situation. "This isn't--"

She was cut off and her eyes went wide as she felt his fingers re-enter her wet pussy, this time with the addition of a second finger. Her hips bucked again and she let out another moan.

"Blake, please!" Claire groaned. "Please!"

"Please what?" Blake asked; the flatness in his voice made her even more uncomfortable.

"No more! I can't do this! I'm not like this!" Claire squealed.

"Not like this?" Blake's fingers paused, still stuck inside her. "Then can you explain why you're wet? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

"I'm not!" Claire wailed, her eyes blurring with tears. She shuddered hard as she felt her moist pussy rubbing against his fingers. "Stop!"

"Yeah, right," Blake snorted in disbelief. "I know a girl like you has been around."

"Been around?" Claire asked, wincing as his fingers moved around inside her. "What does that mean?"

"Stop acting so innocent," Blake huffed.

"I'm not!" Claire argued back. "What does it mean?"

Blake paused for a second. "It means that you've got experience. Letting guys sleep with you and all that."

"What?!" Claire bristled with shock. "I don't do that!"

"Really?" Blake sounded surprised. His fingers finally slid out of her pussy, to her relief.

"No!" Claire was panicking from everything happening, but what stung most was how Blake believed she was some slut. "I...I've never..."

"Done anything like this?" Blake chuckled. "But you're clean-shaven. Who were you getting ready for then?"

"Nobody!" Claire fought to steady her voice. "You don't understand. I've never done

anything

with a guy before."

"Not even a kiss?" Blake still sounded surprised.

"Never," Claire whispered. "So please, just help me get out! I'm very uncomfortable with what you're doing to me! It's so wrong!"

"Hmmm," Blake sounded thoughtful for a second, but then Claire felt his hands on her waist again. She braced herself for him to violate her again, but instead, his grip tightened, and she felt him pulling her body out.

"Hang on," Blake said, removing his hands from her. Then she heard a grunt as the couch's crushing pressure on her began to fade away. He was lifting the couch up! Finally, Claire grabbed her phone and wiggled her way out. She inhaled and exhaled a deep breath of relief, feeling that she had been taking breathing for granted.

"Thank you." Claire's voice was barely above a whisper as she went to stand up, her legs wobbling. She bent forward to pull up her leggings when Blake suddenly grabbed both her arms and pulled them hard.

The force sent her stumbling backward. She yelped as she collided with Blake's hard chest. Her phone slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor.

"You really thought I was done with you?" Blake's grip tightened, his fingers digging slowly into her arms.

Before Claire could react, Blake spun her around and shoved her forward. She stumbled again before collapsing onto the couch, landing on her back. Her body sank into the soft cushion. She tried to scramble up, but he was faster. He quickly removed both her shoes before ripping her leggings off her ankles and tossed them aside. Then he loomed over her, both hands pressing down on her shoulders, pinning her in place.

"You didn't really think I'd just let you go now, right, Claire?" Blake's voice was low and menacing.

"Get off me! You're--" Claire's wail was cut short when Blake slapped his hand across her mouth, muffling it. She struggled against his hold and bucked beneath him, but his weight and strength kept her down.

Claire was so relieved to be unstuck from the couch, but once again she was stuck. And this time--it was in a much more desperate situation.

"Come on, Claire. You know I've always had a thing for you." Blake's eyes narrowed as he glanced into her wide, round eyes. "I kept inviting you over, but you

always

had an excuse. And then you stopped texting back."

Her breath came out in short gasps when Blake removed his hand. "I'm sorry! I'll text you more from now on!"

"That's a good start," Blake's lips curled into a cold smile. "But I want more than that." His fingers pressed harder into her shoulders, a silent reminder of his control.

"More?" Claire repeated, horrified at what that meant.

"You just told me you don't have experience," Blake tightened his grip. "That makes you even more appealing to me. You're still pure and so innocent. No wear and tear. Zero miles on the odometer, no previous owners, and a clean history."

Claire felt sick to her core. Blake was talking about her like she was a car. The objectification was humiliating to her, but not nearly as humiliating as being pinned under him on this couch.

"Well, there's a first time for everything." Blake continued, lowering himself towards her. "You're going to get some experience."

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Claire's voice was a whisper. She struggled again, but she knew she was trapped, with his body blocking any escape.

Blake paused, leaning over her until his face was hovering over hers. "Why? Do you have someone else in mind?"

The truth was that Claire was never all that interested in guys. Sure, she had some crushes in middle and high school, but she was never serious with any of them. In high school, she was well aware that guys wanted the same thing from her. But to their disappointment, she just wasn't that kind of girl.

Regardless, she was grateful for her cute appearance. In fact, she had recently been measured for her high school graduation gown and she was surprised at her measurements: 32A-25-36. Blessed with a petite figure, a modest height of 5' 2", and a natural girl next door look, it was no wonder why guys always showed her so much attention. To add to her already adorable nature, she had big round hazel eyes, pouty lips, and long, dark-brown hair that she would always tie into a ponytail to keep it from blowing everywhere in the wind. Her friends always complimented her and even joked that she could turn any gay man straight. Claire was very happy to be so attractive, although she didn't always like the attention.

"I asked you a question," Blake reminded her, his hand pressing deeper on her shoulder, making her shudder. "Answer me, bitch."

Claire felt a wave of shame as he degraded her. She was mad at him for disrespecting her, but that was the least of her concerns.

"No," Claire shook her head. "I haven't been seeing anyone."

"So there's no argument then," Blake smiled. "You're

mine

, Claire. And I'll take whatever I want from you."

The possessiveness he had in his tone made her shiver with fear. Anything he wanted from her?

"I...I'm underage!" Claire protested, knowing it was a lie.

"Bullshit," Blake whispered, his face mere inches away from hers as she felt his hot breath. "You turned 18 last month. There's no way out of it, Claire. You're legal, and you're mine."

She sank deeper into the couch cushion, intentionally to build up momentum. Then she thrust her body upwards with all her strength to try and dislodge Blake. But barely anything happened, and she realized just how outmatched she was.

"Nice try," Blake smiled mockingly. "But you're not going anywhere."

Claire swallowed hard.

"Like I said, I'll give you some experience," Blake continued. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And we'll start with your very first kiss."

"Kiss?" Claire's head was spinning with panic. She was growing weaker as Blake kept his hold over her.

"Yes, a kiss," Blake clarified. "Remember, Claire, anything I want to do to you is now fully in

my

control."

Blake leaned forward, holding her still. Even as Claire pulled back, whimpering a little, it was no use. Soon, his lips met hers. They felt warm and moist, and she shut her eyes as she was forced to let it all happen.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. But it was.

Claire timidly placed her hands on his chest to try and push him off, but it was hopeless. She could only kiss him delicately, totally unsure of what to do, as her lips tried to keep up with his.

She whimpered a little before Blake finally pushed off her, separating their bodies. Then he grabbed her shirt in the middle and gave it a small tug.

"Alright, your pants are already off; now let's do your shirt." Blake smiled.

Before Claire had a chance to say anything, Blake had already taken initiation, and grabbed at the fabric of her shirt.

"Arms up," Blake instructed, but she shook her head quickly.

"I said," he grabbed her neck, slowly applying pressure. "Arms up!"

Claire began to choke, feeling his grip beginning to squeeze the life out of her. As much as she wanted to keep her shirt on, she knew it wasn't worth passing out. Reluctantly, she placed her arms above her head, and he finally released his grip.