Lucy in Blue

LUCY

To celebrate the new semester my besties persuaded me to meet them at our local bar. Bars are not my thing, but Mary and Tess were insistent.

The place is not as crowded as I was expecting and we manage to snag a table on the drinking side of the bar, away from the dance floor and loud music. Tess is our alcoholic expert, so Mary and I let her choose the cocktails. Sweet mixture after mixture follows, the names of which I can never remember.

As predictable as ever, the topic of conversation soon turns to sex with Tess giving a running commentary of every male that walks into the place. It's all bullshit, I'm sure they have no more sexual experience than I do -- that is, none at all. Anyone listening in would think we are delinquents rather than Canada's aspiring academic elite. Just for once, I wish we could talk about something else.

Tess continues to drone on about curved cocks and my attention starts to wander. Perhaps I could risk going onto the dance floor. I think I might like that, but I've heard stories (from Tess, of course) about the groping that goes on. Also, I'm far too shy to "put myself on offer" as Tess phrases it.

I look around, most of the tables are surrounded with students, all reacquainting themselves with their friends. Further over, I spot one of my lecturers from last semester with, I assume, I hope, his wife. Perhaps I could go speak with him -- surely his conversation would be more refined and interesting. But for me, a lecturer is still a kind of authority figure, not someone I can comfortably approach in a casual way.

Behind Mary is one more table in the corner. At that table there's an old man drinking by himself. Not decrepit old, but he reminds me of my beloved grandfather who died when I was fifteen. He used to help look out for me, even though it was his son who ditched me and my Mum when I was nine. Anyway, the guy has a kind looking face.

"Lucy, are you listening to me?" asks Tess.

I realize I've tuned out of the conversation, "Umm, sorry, what was that?"

"You'll never make any progress, you're off with the fairies all the time Lucy."

Sometimes I wonder why I even hang out with Tess.

Tess continues, "You're too chicken to even speak to any guy here."

I'm annoyed, even if what she says has the ring of truth.

"Fine, I'll go speak to a man just to shut you up," I snap in response.

"Believe it when I see it," Tess replies.

"Any man?"

"Yes, any man."

I decide to call her bluff. I abruptly stand, looking toward where I saw my lecturer. Damn, I can no longer see him anywhere. My eyes fall on the old man again, he looks lonely. Screw Tess, I can do this.

Before I lose my nerve I take the three steps it takes to reach his table and ask if I can sit.

He waves one arm in a be my guest kind of gesture. I sit on the side so that we are at right angles to each other and with my back to the table with Mary and Tess. It feels more friendly to sit here than across from him.

"Cripes, are you even old enough to be in here?" is the first thing he says.

I immediately blush, which is so annoying because I've done nothing wrong. I'm nineteen and since we're in Alberta where the drinking age is eighteen there's no reason for me to be nervous about it.

"Yes, let me show you," as I scramble around in my clutch, retrieving my driver's license and handing it to him.

There's a slight pause, then he takes my license and looks it over.

"Lucy Lipscombe, born 8 February 2003," he reads out loud.

He hands it back, "You know, you want to be more careful about giving out personal information like this."

Oh shit! Is this man a police officer or something like that.

He must sense my tension because he lays his hand gently over mine and says, "Hey, easy, I was your age once, I'm not trying to chastise you, just a little worldly advice."

I nod. He reminds me even more of my grandfather, he would tell me things as well, treating me as I was worth talking to for my own sake.

"I'm Mark, Mark Miller."

Knowing his name helps puts me at ease.

"Are you a professor here?" I ask.

"No, I'm not connected with the University, in fact I'm just passing through on the way to visit my sister out west."

We talk. Mostly he asks about my studies and why I chose anthropology for my major. He seems genuinely interested and asks insightful questions.

I offer to get him another beer.

"Sure, you do the fetching and I'll do the paying," he says handing over some cash.

Mark smiles at me as I head back to the table from the bar with the drinks. I'm focused on him, not really seeing everyone else, not even Mary and Tess still at the next table.

"What's making you so happy?" I ask. A daring question for me, I would not normally ask such a personal thing of anyone.

"It's been a long time since I've talked with such a beautiful girl."

I smile at the compliment and sit down again. For once I don't blush up in a horrible way at the comment. It's a sign that I'm comfortable in this conversation.

"The deep blue of your dress sets off your eyes and dark hair to perfection."

This leads me to explain about my limited wardrobe and how my step-father bought this cocktail dress for me to wear to senior prom.

Mark says, "Well it's still a good fit and you look stunning."

"Well it's little revealing up top these days," I say vaguely moving my hands over my chest.

Mark chuckles, "Yeah, well the breast fairy certainly had your number by the look of things."

"Breast fairy?" I ask.

"You know, like the tooth fairy, she visits girls in the night with her pump, and voila you go from plain Jane to hilly Jane."

I laugh and imagine my late grandfather describing things in this way.

We continue our conversation and when my drink is gone I offer to go fetch some more.

"No, I'm good Lucy. You should probably run along back to your friends before they forget you."

"I suppose, it was nice talking to you Mark."

I stand and stumble a little, forgetting that I'm in heels.

Mark steadies me with his arm, "Honey you might want to slow down with the drinks, have a water or juice between each glass of poison."

Even though my stumble had nothing to do with drink, I liked that Mark said "might" rather than "should" or "must".

A briefly touch Mark on the shoulder in thanks and step back into the world of Mary and Tess.

* * *

It seems the conversation has not improved much in my absence. Tess is railing on Mary about her choice of a button-up blouse, telling her she will not attract any interest without showing more cleavage.

My drink from earlier is still on the table, along with two others sitting at my place and a collection of empty glasses in front of Tess and Mary.

"Come on Luce, you've got some catching up to do," gets these down you, then its your turn to buy us some more.

I suddenly hate the nickname `Luce' that Tess uses for me and Mark's warning comes to mind.

"Why don't you two have these," I say, pushing the surplus drinks to each of them.

Tess continues, "It's your turn Mary, now Luce has spoken to the dirtiest oldest man on offer, surely you can do better."

I jump to Mary's defense, "Mary and I just want to relax, not everything needs to be about sex."

"What did grandad want anyway? I bet he was itching to get his hands on you."

"Stop being gross."

Tess was getting louder and louder, "I bet he was hard the whole time, probably asked you to suck him off. He did, didn't he?"

I'm getting angry now and Mary is also looking uncomfortable. Probably Mark can hear everything Tess is saying, he's right there at the next table. It becomes increasingly obvious that Tess' taunts are deliberately designed to carry. I've seen Tess' mean streak before, but it has never been directed at me like this. In the past, I've even found it amusing, but now I'm starting to see that Tess is really rather shallow.

Mary tries to defuse things by suggesting we head around to the other side of the bar and the dance floor.

We all stand and I lean over to Mary, "Thanks Mary, I'll be there soon. I just want to apologize."

Mary understands immediately and gives my hand a little squeeze before shepherding Tess away.

Mark stands as I approach. He knows why I'm here, "It's all right Lucy, you're not at fault for the behavior of your friend." He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently encourages me to sit down. His hands feel nice and warm.

"Why does she do things like that Mark?"

Mark sits again, but pulls his chair close to mine and takes hold of my hand, "She's just had too much to drink, your other friend will keep her out of trouble."

I'm actually trembling and not at all convinced that Mary will be able to cope, but I want to believe.

Mark says, "Stay here, relax a minute, I'll go get you another drink."

Soon Mark is back with a glass of red wine for me and another beer for himself. I don't want to be churlish and point out that he is the one that warned me to alternate between alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. Besides, the first sip of the wine is rich with flavor. It's not the kind of thing I would normally have here, but since Mark is older, perhaps this is what he buys for women his age.

Mark is sitting right next to me now with his arm around my back. I don't mind at all. Mark continues to quietly talk to me, but I'm struggling to follow the conversation. Perhaps I've had too much to drink after all.

It's like my vision is shrinking. I can still sort of see Mark beside me, but everything is kind of hazy and voices sound like they are coming from a long way away.

I'm moving, Mark is with me. Snatches of conversation. People on both sides of me, Mark's voice, "Be alright... she's my daughter."

No that's not right, I'm not his daughter. Did I say that? I don't know. It's colder, have we gone outside? I'm so drowsy, I think I'm about to fall asleep.

MARK

It's been more than a year since I've been here, so no one will remember me.

There's a lot of young pussy here tonight so the hunting should be easy. In fact, there are three lookers at the table right next to me. One is babbling about sex, but I can tell it is all bluster. These girls all look like they've only just escaped their mother's aprons and wouldn't know a dick if it hit them in the face.

The one I can see best, has blue eyes, long luxurious black hair and a simple navy blue cocktail dress. Blue seems like a good name for her. Her friend, Loudmouth, is also blue eyed, but blonde with super-sized tits. The last I cannot see so well as her back is to me, she can be Other.

Anyway, I'll keep my eye on these three. The way that Loudmouth is going, she will be drunk within the hour and easy pickings. Casting my eyes further afield, there are plenty of other opportunities here as well.

* * *

Unbelievably Blue comes and sits at my table. Fuck, she's absolutely gorgeous. Her tits are practically popping out of her dress. Her skin flushes invitingly when I ask if she should even be in here.

My dick is throbbing. It's all I can do to not run my hands all over her body right here and now.

I try to divert my instant dick itch by having a conversation. Her voice is perfect with a beautiful cadence. I learn her name and a bunch of irrelevant crap about what she is studying.

I need to own her, but not yet, I need to be smart about this. Somehow I need to get her further away from her friends. I need a way to separate the flower from the weeds.

I send her back to her friends while I try to figure this out. I overhear Loudmouth making derogatory comments about me. Perhaps I should take Loudmouth after all so I can teach her a hard life lesson. But I've done a bunch of blondes lately, and despite her big tits she's unappealing when compared to Blue.

* * *

Blue --- Lucy --- is back.

Loudmouth and Other look to be headed for the dance floor. This is my chance.

I go grab a red wine for Lucy slipping in the little vial of sleepy juice concoction as I'm returning from the bar. Soon Lucy's eyes are not tracking well and her voice starts to slur. It's the same effect every time.

Now for the risky part, I need to get her out of here before she completely collapses. I help Lucy to her feet and put my arm around her to guide her toward the exit. I tell her everything will be alright. And it will be, for me.

A bouncer eyes me suspiciously at the door.

"She's my daughter," I tell him, "Had a bit too much, so I'm taking her home."

He grunts and immediately loses interest, perfect.

It's getting harder to keep Lucy upright, but she stumbles along. I only have to carry her the last few meters to reach the van.

Once I get her shoved in the back and the door closed I can relax a little. I still need to leave here as soon as possible in case Loudmouth and Other raise a fuss.

She will sleep for a while now. I lay her down and cuff one arm to a chain attached to the wall just in case. I've done this plenty of times and none have ever escaped or woken too soon. All the same, it pays to be cautious.

With Blue safely secured, I climb into the front and drive out of town. I'm careful to obey the traffic laws, getting stopped now would be problematic. I drive to an isolated spot, some thirty clicks out of town, down a little used forestry road.

* * *

It's time to prepare Blue. She's still oblivious to the world.

Rolling Blue onto her back, I secure each of her ankles and wrists with cuffs. I adjust the chains so that she is spread-eagled with her arms and legs wide open. Next I take my shears and slice right up the middle of her dress starting at the bottom hem. I'm careful not to nick her skin. She won't be needing the dress anymore and it's ruined now anyway.

As I suspected, Lucy is completely naked underneath. Her bush is neatly trimmed and her tits look magnificent, but before touching them I need to undress myself.

I start running my hands over her silky smooth skin. Her arms and legs have musculature hinting at athleticism that comes naturally to those of her age. Her boobs are firm and proud, a perfect size for my hands with glorious pink nipples. They're like coke cans, protruding out of her chest, the kind of boobs that are unbelievable now, but which will be sagging by the time she is thirty. I feel her nipples bunch involuntarily under my palms as I lightly palpate my newest toys.

I cannot resist leaning down and drawing one of the juicy looking cherries into my mouth and gently sucking on it. It swells further as I lash my tongue over the teat and it takes a lot of self-control not to bite down on it.

Lucy squirms briefly and a little moan escapes her lips. It will not be long until she awakens.

Continuing to lightly suckle one of her breasts, I run my hand down her tummy, over her bush, until I find her slit. My fingers infiltrate her folds and detect the slippery moisture of her unconscious arousal. Rubbing along the sides of her nub elicits another low moan from Lucy.

I want to be in position, so I can enter her at the moment she wakes. I climb between her legs and lean forward onto my elbows so that my erection is hovering over her slit ready to claim her. My hands find my way back to her breasts and I resume tugging and tweaking her nipples.

Ah, she is coming around.

LUCY

The dream is thrilling and I do not want to wake up, but the duvet seems heavy.

My eyes flutter open to confusion. This is not my bed, not my room.

Someone is on top of me squeezing my tits. Squeezing hard. I'm groggy, "What..."

I try to bring my hands up to cover my breasts, but they do not respond.

My legs feel splayed wide open and there is something nudging at my crotch. In my waking arousal it feels pleasant, but I still try to close my legs anyway. But I cannot, like my arms they are not responding.

As my eyes slowly come into focus in the dim light, I can see the man on me. He seems familiar but I cannot immediately place him. I'm still struggling to work out where I am and what is happening.

Suddenly there is a stabbing pain between my legs and with it comes the realization of what is happening. Before I can scream, something inside of me gives way and I feel intense pain as the intrusion goes deeper inside me.

The man over me is smiling as he carelessly violates me and takes my virginity.

I try to jerk away to escape the intrusion, but I cannot move and with dawning understanding realize that my limbs are secured. There is nothing I can physically do to stop this.

His penis is inexorably pushing deeper into me.

I scream.

In response he wraps his hands around my breasts and squeezes really hard. My scream descends into a cry of pain.

He says, "Cut that nonsense out, no one can hear you anyway."

Tears fill my eyes.

I squirm desperately trying to dislodge him, but succeed only in increasing his pleasure as his penis grinds deeper into me.

He starts thrusting violently with his hips and his penis slams in and out of me.

"Ow, ow, ow," I sob, "please stop, it hurts too much."

But his movements only become more frenetic as he uses his vice-like grip on my breasts to yank himself deeper and faster into me.

The pain is slowly diminishing as my internals adjust to his rape of me. In fact, there is a warm glow starting to fill my nether regions. Almost involuntarily my hips are starting to rise to meet his thrusts. It's like I'm suffering some kind of mental short-circuit. He's raping me for fuck's sake, yet I cannot seem to deny the slow burn of my arousal.

He releases my breasts, but the reprieve is short lived as his mouth clamps down on one breast sucking it hard. It's both painful and pleasant at the same time. Worse when his teeth graze over the nipple, an electric bolt seems to travel directly to my clit which is now swollen with need.

With each thrust his groin mashes against my clit, right where I want more pressure, but it is not enough to give me any kind of release.

He lets out a groan of his own, stopping his movements for just a second before slamming into more violently than ever. At the same time he bites down on my nipple, eliciting another screech of pain from me.

Releasing my nipple, he says "You're on birth control, right, Lucy?"

I'm still playing catch-up, "Birth control?"

He chuckles, "I just banked a deposit and figure you don't want the interest, so to speak."

Shit. Not only has my virginity just been stolen by a rapist, he didn't use any kind of protection and just ejaculated right into my probably fertile womb.

Again I try to squirm away, but I cannot, and it's far too late anyway. I can all too easily imagine his sperm drilling into one of my eggs. All my effort does is cause my needy clit to rub against him a little more.

More things are coming back to me. I remember I was at the bar with Tess and Mary now and the guy still lodged inside me was there. His name was Martin, no not Martin, something like that, ah, Mark.

With his softening penis still inside me, his busy fingers are rubbing at my nub.

Despite my abhorrence at what has just happened, my body has other ideas. My breathing shallows out, my nipples pucker up tight again, and I cannot help but strain my traitorous nub toward his fingers.

His fingers continue to stroke, rub, and tug on my clit and I cannot voice a coherent objection. This feels a magnitude better than the few times I've touched myself down there. I feel myself racing toward a peak. My whole body convulses as I go over the edge. I feel my sheath pulsing and clenching, trying to milk yet more semen from his penis.

I'm totally confused. My body is thrumming with pleasure, yet tears are leaking from my eyes at the same time.

The shock of it all finally reaches me and I have a panic attack. I need out of here, I can't breathe. Mark must sense the change, because he quickly climbs off of me although his eyes remain fixed on me.