Both of her wrists fit nicely in a single one of my hands, as I pinned them against the concrete of the fountain. That left my other hand free to fumble with the button on my pants. Not the easiest of feats for someone unused to the process, but I got it quickly enough. The zipper was easier.
She mewled softly as she looked helplessly up at me. Her eyes shouted defiance, mimicked by the constant shifting of her hips. My own pressed against her to keep her legs under control and keep me from getting kicked in the head. It didn't help with trying to open my fly. Still, it wasn't enough to stop me. The moment my pants were down, my hand pressed against the slight fuzz between her legs and pushed. Another mewl escaped her lips. If the rim of the fountain was too hard for her delicate sensitivities, that wasn't my problem.
Dressed in a loose skirt, white blouse with short sleeves that ballooned at her shoulders, and pink bows that held her pig-tails, she looked like anyone's kid sister. It was an image she worked hard to cultivate. Her breasts were small enough that she didn't need to wear a bra. The push-up training one she'd chosen was ample proof of her attempts to foster the youthful image.
She'd need to get a new one, of course. As soon as I had her hands under control and her back flat against the fountain, I'd ripped open her shirt and yanked down the specious protection of the undergarment. The straps hadn't been designed to carry any real weight and snapped with only a fraction of my strength. Even if they hadn't, I'd have been ready to use the knife that hung on the back of my belt.
If I cared about such things, I'd have known in the first instant I grabbed her that she wanted this. She might not have been able to fight me off, being less than half my mass with no upper body strength, but she never once screamed. She fought, she glared, she whimpered but it was all a token defense.
Truthfully, I
did
care. I don't usually get off on this kind of thing. Sure, I'll pay for a good time now and then but I don't need to
take
it in order to enjoy myself. And I certainly don't have a thing for young girls. Of course, she only looked young. Although no one kept records these days, she was at least twice as old as her body and carefully maintained image insisted.
This was meant to be an abject lesson. That was why I'd thrown her down on her back. Most guys, when they really sought to fuck a woman against her will, bent her over forward so she couldn't see their face. It kept revenge a more difficult proposition.
Might makes right. That sort of sentiment ruled the world in which we lived. It was a world generally dominated by men. Occasionally a truly ruthless woman managed to cow the surrounding region into following her but generally that was more a situation that occurred in the privacy of one's home. Get any large number of people together and the alpha male response kicked in for some and rather quickly displaced the would-be queen.
The little cunt beneath me was the exception to the rule. Most women discovered how fruitless it was to attempt to rule by pure charisma. They tried to flirt, or downright prostitute themselves, in order to maintain their grip. Unfortunately, eventually, jealousy would rear its ugly head and the guys would depose her. She'd last a bit longer than ruthless force, but not much.
The cute bitch here had found a different path to follow. Rather than bank on more adult feminine whiles, she convinced the men around her that she was utterly harmless. It hadn't taken long for her to garnish enough of the protector sentiment from the guys that no one wanted to cross her, for fear of the repercussions. From there, it was easy enough to twist their collective ears until they all fell into the habit of submission to her will.
I don't have a problem with that. More power to her! It's such a subtle ploy that countless women across the globe should try it. I don't know if the world would be different if women ruled it, instead of men, but I'd be willing to let them try. It's not like they could do much
worse
of a job than the men.
No. The bitch needed a lesson because she forgot the single rule of the world.
There's always someone stronger than you!
I'm a vagrant. Unlike ninety-nine percent of the population, I have no desire to find a nice place to settle down. I've been told that in times past I would have been called an archeologist. I find old cities and towns, from before the fall of civilization, and dig up whatever might prove the most profitable. Gold, jewels and tools are my most common find but every once in a while I come across some gem of technology that people are really willing to pay for.
She'd heard about me, about my reputation for quality goods, and sent an invitation. Given that she runs a sizeable city, population nearly ten thousand including the outlying farms, I'd have been stupid not to accept. With that many potential customers, I could have unloaded my entire current stock and earned as much as a year's living.
