Starting A Family 1

*****

Hello!

As a disclaimer, this story contains explicit nonconsent, with the male in the position of the victim. Themes of blackmail, coercion, and forced breeding are part of this. Take this as a potential trigger warning. I want to state outright that while nonconsent is the root of this story, my intent is not to glamorize or promote rape in any real-life scenario. All characters are of consenting age.

Feedback is welcome. Enjoy.

-TheDaggerAndTheCup

*****

"Surprise!" She shouted, her eyes gleaming as she held up a cake covered in vanilla frosting. "Happy half birthday!"

I hadn't even realized it was my half birthday.

"What? Oh- huh," I was doing the math in my head. I would be twenty-two in exactly six months. "Yeah I guess it is. Huh, well, I mean, thanks. Wait- how do you know when my birthday is? I never told you that."

"I just found it on your facebook while I was looking at your pictures. Here, let me get you a plate. It's carrot cake!" She smiled amiably as she buzzed around the room in an apron, assembling utensils and plates.

This was our fifth date, if you could call any of them that. Skye had invited me to her house for dinner. I didn't have anything else going on, though I wasn't exactly excited for another mundane evening eating, watching whatever disney movie she wanted, and then not having sex. I felt like it had been getting weird with her. But in the end I was hungry, and decided a platonic meal couldn't hurt anybody. But now I was getting uncomfortable.

"You were on my facebook? What for, I don't even use it."

"I wanted to learn more about you!" She said, still smiling toothily. Everything she said had the same glaze of childlike enthusiasm over it. "Do you not like it?"

"No- no, of course I like it, carrot cake is my favorite actually... thanks."

She smiled at me. That same bright-eyed, toothy, disney grin. Almost like she knew something I didn't. I started trying to remember if I had ever mentioned liking carrot cake on facebook. Her persistence in trying to constantly flatter me had become more than a little unnerving.

I had met Skye in a biology lab. The lab instructor had put us in groups to go over the stages of meiosis, the process by which sex cells are created. I was on my game that day. I remember making some kind of quip, not what it was exactly, but that she had laughed hard at it and all her attention had immediately shifted to me. I had gotten her number as we walked out of the biology building and the next night we had gone for a walk. Of all things, yes, a walk. That was her idea. After some conversation I learned Skye, short for Skyeliegh, had been devoutly christian her entire life.

That explains it

, I thought. It would end up explaining a lot with her.

I didn't mind her religious convictions. She had brown, shoulder-length curls that bounced when she walked. Actually, most everything about her bounced when she walked. It was hard not to notice her figure. She had beautifully-shaped, larger-than-average tits and a bubble butt. She was six feet tall, almost as tall as me, and athletic. Her legs were long and toned, much like the rest of her. Her eyes were an azure blue, peering out over her freckled nose and cheeks.

She talked on and on about her vanilla life. Her eight siblings, their ages and nicknames, her course schedule, the suburb she grew up in, her favorite childrens' movies (none of which I had seen since I was six), her favorite musicals (none of which I had heard of). All of it sterile and oddly childlike. I nodded and listened and tried to contribute when I had something to add. As we walked I couldn't shake the image of her beautiful legs wrapping around me as I tasted her forbidden fruit. I wasn't very interested in her on an intellectual level, but I was willing to stick it out to see if repressed christian girls really were secretly freaks.

On the second date she had suggested watching The Beauty And The Beast with me.

Sure,

I thought,

whatever works for you

. She laughed loudly at every joke as if it was the first time she had ever seen it, looking over at me to see if I was laughing too. I would return the look and force a smile.

Do people really do this?

We ended up on my couch making out after the credits had stopped rolling. She shook violently in my hands as I ran them over her body.

"Are you okay? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." I said, pulling away from her.

"No, seriously, it's fine, I'm just..."

"What? We really don't have to do anything if you don't want to, I'm not trying to be pushy."

"No! That's not it, I just... I haven't really done this a lot."

"What, kissing?" I asked, almost laughing.

"Not really. I've kissed five people." She answered timidly. "You make me really nervous. I just want to do the right things."

"Five!?" I asked, startled. "Does that mean you're, like... a virgin?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "I'm saving it for the right person. I think when it's right, God will tell me and I'll know."

I laughed. "Okay, well, we don't have to take it so fast if you don't want to."

"I really was enjoying it. I-" she hesitated, seeming unsure of how she wanted to proceed. "I was hoping to sleep with you."

I raised an eyebrow confusedly.

"Not like that, I mean, I'm just not sure if it's right. But maybe we can, you know, cuddle?" She took my hand and placed it back on her waist.

"Well I definitely couldn't say no to that."

We wrestled tongues for a while. When she kissed, Skye repeated the same motions over and over again, like I had as an inexperienced teenager. I tried to shake things up, kissing away from her mouth to her ears and neck, nibbling on her skin. She was awkwardly non-engaging, leaving me to wonder if she was okay. I would check in regularly, and she would always respond that she was enjoying it. I figured she must have just not ever had any sexual contact like this. She quivered at my touch. I took off my shirt, then hers. I took off my pants, then hers. I asked to take off her bra. She assented as nervously as she had to everything else, but with an upfront enthusiasm that I believed.

Her tits were full and teardrop shaped, with small dark nipples hard enough to cut glass. Kissing down her neck, I cupped and sucked on them. It occurred to me that everything I did would probably have an extra impact on her, having no baseline for what kind of performance to expect. To most women I performed slightly above average on a good day, but to her... to her I was a Cassanova. I laughed mischievously to myself at the thought, circling my tongue around the excited peaks of her nipples. She breathed heavily through her mouth and vibrated, a sign I was learning to take as pent-up excitement that she had no idea how to express. I tried to reposition myself between her legs, hoping to rub my stiff cock against her clit and give her a

real

thrill. She held them tightly together, to the side. I looked up and she shook her head.

There's the line

, I thought.

"Fair enough," I said, and went back to massaging her soft, ample tits, kissing every wayward freckle on her chest.

She seemed content to let me touch her, to find her buttons and press them (with a few exceptions), but she clearly had no idea what to do other than be touched. She just shook harder and sighed breathily. My erection felt like it was going to rip through my underwear. After a while we switched to spooning, me grinding my hips against her, making sure she could feel it. I whispered into her ear that she was beautiful. She rolled over forcefully, her eyes searching for mine in the dark.

"No.

You

are beautiful." Her voice was deadly serious.

I chuckled playfully, unsure of how to respond. She shuddered against me, breathing loudly, long after I was asleep.

This evening repeated the next two times I saw her, each an almost exact replica of the first time. We watched another childrens' cartoon and had a boring conversation on the couch, retreading ground that had never been all that interesting to begin with. I had to explain things at length when I talked about myself. She had never experienced anything outside her own little religious, suburban bubble. She barraged me hungrily with questions and searched for eye contact. I tried not to sound vain, patiently defining terms and elaborating about ideas.

She sat close enough that our bodies touched, but didn't seem to know how to engage me physically. Eventually I abandoned conversation and just started kissing her, which she responded to emphatically. She stayed over again, our underwear stayed on, and I went to sleep bulging against my fly and frustrated.

There is no way I'm going to fuck this girl without marrying her

, I thought. We didn't really have chemistry, though she seemed completely oblivious of that, and aside from her body I didn't have a lot of interest in her as a person.

With the possibility of sex abandoned, talking to Skye was an unpleasant mixture of boring and offputting. Every time we hung out was the same conversation, starting nowhere and going nowhere. She didn't have many opinions or experiences, as it was clear she had been thoroughly sheltered her entire life. But she always approached me with the same grinning enthusiasm, hovering too close in public, awkwardly agreeing with everything I said. She would appear out of nowhere on campus, acting surprised to see me. And yet it happened multiple times a day over the next two weeks.

I tried to distance myself from her, to keep conversations brief before politely finding an excuse to run off. She would find me after our biology lecture and ask what I thought about it. I would respond nicely, but curtly, and she would linger, following me across campus, her questions becoming more inane and pointless, the silent spaces between them growing longer. She was not taking the hint.

Looking down at the slice of carrot cake I realized I was going to have to tell her outright. I sighed, taking a bite. It was a good cake. There were bits of crushed walnut spread throughout the fluffy, moist crumb for texture. She had obviously spent a lot of time on it. Trying in her repressed christian woman's way of earning my approval. I wasn't looking forward to hurting her feelings, even though I was beginning to be creeped out by her advances. When dinner was over I excused myself, saying I had a calculus test coming up that I had to study for.

"Let me walk you out!" Skye volunteered, shooting up from the table.

I was already putting on my jacket. Skye exchanged glances with her roommate, who was in the living room studying. Clearly she had been talking to her about me. She walked me to the door and outside. It was winter, and the steam on our breath combined into a single cloud and floated away as we sat wordlessly waiting for the other to do something. She had that same eager smile on her face, looking up admiringly at me.

"Thanks for the, uh... the cake," I said, trying to break the silence and get out.

"Of course! Your half birthday is a special event!" She gleamed.

I sighed. I wasn't sure I had it in me to crush her outright. I would just slip away and try to avoid her. Hopefully she would get the idea eventually.

"Okay, well have a nice night! Thanks for the invite, I'll see you in bio!" I was walking down the stairs and away.

As I looked back I watched her smile drop into a desperate look. I hadn't given her the approval she had been seeking. I heard her begin stammering.

"Well, um, well, okay well, alright I'll see you later then! I hope you have a really nice night! Bye!"

Not if I can help it!

I thought. I turned and waved to her over my shoulder. She waited as I walked away under the porchlight in the freezing air.

When I got home I cracked a beer and laid into it, planning on getting good and drunk. I felt like I needed a solid cup of mouthwash to get the taste of that evening out of my mouth. The entire situation had made me uncomfortable and I was glad to be rid of it. I sat down on my couch and turned on an 80's action movie, hoping to unplug my brain. The beers went down, one after the other, until I was through the better part of a twelve pack. I staggered off to bed having completely forgotten the taste of carrot cake and the look on Skye's face as I walked away.

The next thing I remember is my wrists and ankles hurting. I opened my eyes in the dark and noticed my bedside lamp was on. Bleary shapes shifted in the half-light. I was flat on my back, which was odd. I'm a side sleeper, normally. I realized it was more than that. I was on top of the covers. My limbs were spread apart. And I couldn't move them.

"Hi sleepyhead." An enthusiastic trill came from somewhere in the dark.

"Skye?" I asked. I was still good and drunk. A silhouette shifted around the bed.

"Yes, baby, I'm here," She responded giddily.

Baby?

I thought. "What's going on, Skye? Why can't I move?"

I looked up at my wrists and saw them. Handcuffs, latched tightly from my wrists to the bed frame.

"What the fuck is going on, Skye!?"

Her face advanced out of the dark, bearing that same toothy smile. She put a finger to her lips and shushed me gently. "Don't cuss, sweetheart. I just came in through the window."

THE WINDOW!?

Skye had broken into my house while I was asleep. Something was seriously wrong here.

"Skye what in the fuck are you doing? Why are you in my house?"

She crept further into the light and I realized she was naked. Completely naked. "Do you remember when we met, Scott? I do. I remember everything about that day. That was a special day."

I yanked at the handcuffs but it did no good. She crawled over me, grabbing my wrists and sitting on my stomach. I had wanted so badly to see her naked, and now here she was. It was even better than I'd hoped. I began shivering, cold, afraid and unsure of what she was going to do.

"We were having that discussion about

sex

cells." She said the word with an odd, salacious lilt. "And you were so handsome and funny and..." She sighed and looked away before continuing. "And I started to have impure thoughts about you. I was so guilty about it, but I couldn't fight it. I just kept picturing your cells and my cells..." She slid her hands down my arms to my chest, stroking my skin. Her eyes met mine. "Uniting."

"What the FUCK Skye!?" I shouted. I couldn't believe my ears. A flash of anger shot across her face and she clapped a hand over my mouth, pushing my head down into the pillows. Her strength surprised me. In spite of everything, I felt a pulse in my cock.

"So I decided to ask God," she continued, "and I pondered, and I prayed. And I realized I shouldn't feel guilty. Because I think you're the one. I think it's God's plan for us to be together forever, Scott."

I shook my head fiercely back and forth until she took her hand off my mouth. "Absolutely not, Skye. You're fucking crazy, that is not happening. You can't just

make

me be with you."

"What am I supposed to do, then? I tried romancing you. I gave you everything I had to give. But it wasn't enough for you. You were going to leave and find yourself another dumb worldly whore." Her expression was changing wildly from moment to moment. She would show hateful anger, then flip to gleeful excitement. "But then I got an idea. I've been checking my calendar, and..." her voice dropped to a whisper and she closed the gap between our faces. "I'm ovulating tonight."

My eyes grew wide. I didn't know what to say.

"I won't let you just slip away from me, gosh dang it, Scott. I

have

to have you. I know this is hard right now, but you'll understand eventually." Her voice was soothing, in contrast to everything else that was happening. "We're going to get married." That disney smile spread back over her face, only this time the innocent joy of it terrified me.

"You WONT-" I started.

She covered my mouth again, forcefully. I felt her other hand close around my dick and balls. "Married. I love how that sounds. We're going to get maaaarrieeed, and be together forever. Even after we die, we'll be together." Her smile was tipping over the precipice from happy to unhinged. In spite of everything, I felt my cock tingle.

I tried shouting stifled words through her fingers. "I'll TELL-"

She sighed, pressing down on my mouth to silence me. "I thought you might say that. But I've already thought about it. And if you decide to try and tell anyone about tonight, I'll tell the school board you raped me." Her face looked absolutely evil, a malevolent smile parting her lips. "You're here on scholarship, aren't you? Who do you think they'd believe?"

That BITCH

, I thought. It was all on the table now. The air of innocence she wore everywhere she went was a mask. I was just now seeing the depraved underbelly that had been watching me from behind the curtains. Plotting. I hadn't been cautious enough. I had underestimated her completely. This was coercion and she knew it. I couldn't let her. I wouldn't. I pulled at the handcuffs, trying to break either the chain or the bed frame. My hope was that they were cheap and wouldn't put up with too much abuse. I felt them tear into my skin.

"They would take your scholarship, at the bare minimum. You might even end up in prison. And you would still have to support our child." Her eyes and teeth gleamed in the light. "Or you could enjoy yourself. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

I had wanted her. Her body, at the least. I had wanted to see her give in to the human impulses I knew she had. And now, in a way, I was getting to. But the cost of what she was talking about was something I had never wanted, with her or anyone.

"You're the first person to ever see me naked, did you know that? I've been saving my body for you my whole life. I know you haven't done the same but it's okay, I don't want you to feel guilty. All that matters right now is our future, and making sure it's nice and secure."

Her hand rolled over my package. Fingers gently tracing over my skin. I couldn't help it. My cock was responding to her touch, growing in her hand. She leaned, reaching over the side of the bed. I heard a paper bag rustle. She reappeared clutching a knot of cloth.

"I know you think I'm inexperienced," she said, unfolding the rumpled effects on my chest. "And it's my first time. But I've been doing a lot of reading, and I'm going to do good for you. I promise. Here-"

She held up one of the things she had fished from the bag. Her underwear. Before I had time to realize what was happening she stuffed them into my mouth and started to tie a bandana around my head. I could taste her pussy. I tried to protest through the gag but all that came out was muffled gibberish. The more I tried to talk the more my tongue became buried in the soft folds of her used panties. I shook back and forth, trying desperately to get up. I

wasn't

going to let her

do this

to me. The handcuffs were starting to cut into my wrists where I twisted in them. My hope was rapidly dwindling.

She leaned over me, flashing that same trained, fake smile of hers. The points of her nipples grazed my chest. "Now you just sit back and let me take care of everything, my sweet."

She wheeled around, giving me an up-close view of her ass and pussy. She was freshly shaven, with a patch of freckles adorning her mound. Her outer lips were plump, but entirely upstaged by the thick pink ribbons of her inner labia. They lay slightly parted, forming the perfect shape of a cartoon heart. Her clit was obviously swollen with excitement, peeking out from under her hood. My eyes drifted to her asshole, a tight, puckered aperture with a solitary pinprick of void space in the center. Her legs spread across my arms, pinning my wrists and spreading her asscheeks.