A runaway girl adventure

[audisingapore]

Something I read and like to share:-

Chapter one

Siri’s life wasn’t actually a life as much as it was an Easter egg, carefully painted layers of chocolate to cover all the things that should have been there and weren’t. She’d dreamed of leaving since she was fourteen and after ten years knew exactly where she’d go - Eastern Europe. To be sure, it wasn’t the safest of destinations for a woman travelling alone, but an ideal choice for anyone hoping to disappear. At Helsinki West Terminal she boarded the M/S Baltic Princess with the firm intention of never to return. What ever she would decide to do, Siri was confident that no one could trace her from a country like Belarus or Slovakia and she would be in peace.

***

As it was 2000s Siri had expected to get by relatively well with English, but she didn’t. Neither did her moderate skills in Russian help her as much as she had hoped for. In addition the rather romantic expectations she’d had of her chosen refuge to large extent proved to be misconceptions. Eastern Europe was loud, pushy and restless and the gipsy life proved more taxing than she’d anticipated. She took in the flood of people, colours and sounds without resorting to her medicine, however, after the hustle and bustle of Warsaw she was in desperate need for silence.

She changed busses at the Ukrainian border and in a few hours felt the tightening in her chest ease as she gazed out the window at the fields, moors and lakes of Shatskyi national park. After a careful study of her map Siri got off the bus seemingly in the middle of nowhere. From where she stood stretched out an eight kilometre hike to one of the smaller lakes of the area, hopefully a paradise of peace and quiet.

She skirted fields and crossed through thickets of deciduous trees among open fields of short grass. The ground was even and the day wasn’t particularly hot but the marching tired her out quickly. She reached the lake hours later than she’d estimated, sweaty and utterly spent. Feeling faint she struggled to put up her tent and fell asleep as soon as she had her sleeping bag and mattress unrolled.

She slept fitfully, shivering from cold, drifting from one terrifying nightmare to another. Every time she stirred she gulped down large amounts of water, and eventually she had to pee. Too spooked to unzip the door to the unknown she urinated into the bowl of her Trangia, too befuddled from the fever to feel the slightest bit silly.

When dawn chased the darkness away her fear let go and she slept for a few straight hours. Besides that the morning brought little in the way of relief. By ten o’clock the temperature inside the tent had climbed to uncomfortable levels but Siri was too sick to move her bed outside. She had only one litre of water left which meant she would have to move before it ran out completely. In one of the Shatskyi lakes the water was said to be safe to drink, but it wasn’t her lake.

It was near eight o’clock when Siri forced herself up on wobbly legs and left her camp. She staggered towards the road, but the whole world was gibberish. She clung to her map and compass but couldn’t bring her sluggish brain to remember how to use them.

Dusk fell and her unease returned. Startled by every sound and shape she hurried on, consumed by her fear. Tears streamed from her eyes and she talked to herself in whispers, hanging on to the last semblance of self control. She had long finished the last of her water when in the looming darkness her eyes suddenly focused on a tiny distant light.

Hope went a long way. She let her backpack thump on the ground and ignored her thirst, aches and fever. She kept on for another two hours until the light went out and the house that had emanated it was consumed by darkness. In an instant the hope that had sustained her died and took with it all her strength. She took a few hesitating steps but her knees bent and she collapsed. Just before fading into nothingness, she saw the first promises of a new sunrise in the horizon.

[audisingapore]

Chapter Two


Choma carried the girl in the house and laid her carefully on the sofa. He might have walked right past her had his ears not picked up the sharp wheeze of her breathing. The girl looked like death and his mind was in shambles. He knew the first priority was to get off her wet clothes but it didn’t feel right to strip the poor girl naked. He needed help. Larisa would know what to do but he didn’t like leaving her alone in the state she was in. Yet, too worried not to, he covered her in blankets and hurried to his battered old truck.

***

“What is she doing in those wet clothes?” Larisa exclaimed walking in the room. “Choma Danylovych, what on earth were you thinking?” It was the first time in years Choma heard Larisa swear. “You old fool, it’s the wrong bloody time to be a prude.” Choma hung his head. Larisa was right and he was ashamed of his earlier sheepishness. “Off with you then. Put water to boil and bring her something dry to sleep in,” she said hurrying to remove her clothes.

Roma returned with a long cotton shirt. “You’ll have to help me. I can’t dress her on my own. Don’t be ridiculous, Choma, God knows it’s not the first time you see a naked woman.” This isn’t a woman, she’s a girl, he thought dismally but didn’t contradict.

“Prop her up,” ordered Larisa and Choma slid his hands to the small of her back and lifted. As her body rose into a sitting position, the blanket slid down and Choma saw her beautiful round breasts with tiny half erected nipples. His thoughts instantly wandered to what they would feel like in his hands, how would it feel to press his lips to that soft flesh.

As soon as it had appeared the sight was gone; Larisa had gotten the girl’s hands into the sleeves and buttoned the shirt up commanding him to carry their patient upstairs. Her soft body felt soft through the thin fabric and, shivering, Choma took her into the small bedroom and lay her on the mattress. There was something disturbingly erotic in her unconscious form on the bed before him, but Larisa’s voice woke him to reality. “Bring some juice and all hot water bottles you have. And a decent book if you don’t mind, I’ll get under the covers to warm her up.”

“Will she be ok?” asked Choma.

“I honestly don’t know,” answered Larisa shaking her head.

Choma tried to go about his work but was plagued by images of the girl’s naked breasts and the two women huddling tightly against each other under the blankets. He couldn’t concentrate and spent the day walking around aimlessly, his thoughts constantly on the room upstairs and the sick girl within. In the evening Larisa took her leave imploring him to vigilance, “She has a high fever, keep a close eye on her. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how she’s doing.”

Choma sat with her the whole night wiping her face with a wet cloth. Larisa had remade her dishevelled braid, and it ran on the duvet leading Choma’s eyes once more onto her chest. He tucked the coil of hair in with the girl to rid himself of the image of her breasts. Choma expected to unravel her mystery but though she kept murmuring and babbling it was impossible to make out what she was saying. At times she woke up from a nightmare, eyes wide in terror, but when he tried to talk to her she didn’t respond and fell back asleep.

Choma took pity on her. She was restless, tossed and turned, kicking her duvet aside. Dutifully he tucked her back in, each time trying to ignore her pale legs and thoughts of placing his hand on her thigh and sliding it up along her soft skin all the way beneath the hem of her shirt. His solitary life had mellowed his passions, but to have someone enticing and vulnerable there for his taking rekindled the needs he’d long subdued. No, he said to himself countless times during the night, don’t even think about it.

Come morning he woke up from his chair, every muscle stiff. The girl looked angelic in the soft orange light. Choma reached for her braid and slid it in his hand; his crotch stirred and so did his quilt. It was wrong of him to desire her. Too young, he chided himself and snorted, too unconscious. Still, he neglected his work and hovered over his little patient, stroking her brow and soothing her when she got restless.

Sometimes her distress had a wanton shade and she grasped his petting arm, writhing against it, trying to push it down towards her crotch. When she got like that, it took all his self discipline to pull his hand away and leave the room. It would have been so easy to convince himself then that she was willing, and use her inert body to sate himself.

He said nothing of those moments to Larisa when she arrived to check on her as promised. However the remedies of Larisa Ivasivna didn’t extend much beyond common sense and there was nothing more she could do for the girl. They would have to let the fever run its course.

[audisingapore]

Chapter Three


The first thing that registered was the smell of an old house. Knowing she wasn’t at home, she sat up slowly to find herself groggy in a strange dark room. She had shattered recollections of someone holding a cup to her lips, of fleeting voices and a rough hand stroking her forehead. She looked around her and listened - nothing. She wasn’t in a town or a city, for there was no light coming from the windows or any sounds of traffic. Fear swelled in her chest, fear of dark and of strangers. They’ve taken care of me this far, she reminded herself but the fear ran deeper than that.

Her hands shot up to her chest to fumble the long white shirt that covered her down to her thighs - it wasn’t hers. Feeling small and very much alone she saw in her mind a vague human shape stripping her, cruelly stealing from her the privacy to her own body. Her hands sought out her braid to hold on to something familiar, but she could tell at once it wasn’t of her own making.

Sitting still was impossible. She had to know where she was. She eased herself off the bed and on her shaky legs. Cursing every creek of the floor she shuffled to lean on the wall and opened the door. Behind it was a landing with stairs going down and two other doors. She detected a weak source of light from downstairs and proceeded to the first step. It took a moment to think up a best way to climb down and finally she sat down on the first step and one step at a time slid herself down.

Roaming in a strange house made her feel guilty but she didn’t want to announce herself just yet. She wanted to know who her hosts were first. On the last step she reached for the railing and pulled herself up. The hallway seemed to spin around her and she leaned against the wall, willing the world to stay still while she made her way towards the light.

She peeked into a cosy living room with an old fireplace and shabby furniture, a man sat in a chair facing the fire. His hair was touched by grey and his skin darkened by a lifetime spent outdoors. With her legs inevitably tiring, Siri studied Choma’s profile holding her breath. It’s his shirt. He’s touched me. Her nipples hardened and she realized she had no underwear. Has he used me? Her pussy tingled but there was no pain. Would I feel it if he has--, while I slept? Siri saved herself from the stain of the word. Christ, there may be semen welling in me right now. What will he do to me? Oh, I have to get out of here!

She meant to get her things and run but Choma had sensed her presence and looked up from his book. Surprised to find her up he hurried to her. Siri felt surreal for the man’s speech sounded like Russian but she couldn’t understand any of it. She closed her eyes in brink of tears and cowered against the wall pleading, “No, please, no,” when he approached. Choma, ignoring her silly fear, put a hand under her arm and led her a few clumsy steps, sitting her down on the worn sofa.

Disoriented and scared, Siri recoiled from him and backed in to the corner of the couch. Choma stepped back from the trembling girl. Waiting for his little ward to wake up he’d done what he could to make himself presentable and thus was a far neater looking man than the unkempt near hermit that found her. He’d shaven, trimmed his hair and found some clothes that hadn’t seen too many runs in the workshop. Still, he was a rugged, serious looking man and the long years alone hadn’t improved his social skills. He tried his best to look unthreatening but doubted his success.

He crouched to be on her level. “Listen, you’re safe here. I’m Choma, this is my house. I found you when you were sick.” She snatched an old quilt and covered herself. Choma was disappointed, he had expected a more cheerful moment than this. With his hands held up he rose and moving slowly past the girl sat down on the armrest of a chair next to the sofa. He kept his tone calm trying his best to reassure her but the confusion following her awakening was persistent and hard to penetrate. She starred at him with eyes bright with fever, her hands clutched the quilt and she cowered if he so much as shifted slightly.

They sat there a long while, her shock lessening and her breathing slowing down. As the minutes passed, and the man seemingly didn’t intend to harm her, Siri’s tense muscles loosened up. She closed her eyes and finally her brain picked words she understood. He said ‘my name is’. “Choma,” she murmured sleepily and, as the drowsiness of fever flooded her head, added “I’m… Ya Siri.”

She stirred to his hand stroking her hair. Choma was standing right next to her, smiling a warm smile that deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. That particular touch had since childhood been a promise of love, shelter and caring and Siri gave in to it. If Choma had wanted to hurt her he could have done so. With her eyes half closed she leaned her head against her rescuer in a silent plea for solace. When he slipped his hands under her arms and hauled her up she didn’t question it.

Choma led the woozy girl back to bed. Siri was unsteady on her feet but Choma kept his strong arm around her and didn’t let her fall. He tucked her in and she muttered, “Hyvää yötä,” her eyes already closed. “Na dobraniÄ�,” he replied automatically and sat down on the little chair in which he’d lately spent so many hours.

Siri fell asleep quickly, too tired to be aware of strangers or danger. Choma watched her. His flesh throbbed where she had laid her head. That intimation made him feel even more protective of her than before. Yet at the same time the image of her cowering form, bare legs and frightened eyes haunted him. Her small hands had squeezed so hard on the quilt which she had trusted to hide her vulnerability.

He had wanted to give her a reason to fear, to be the man she had thought him to be. Those legs had led not just his eyes but also his imagination to the secrets hidden in the shadows under the shirt. Choma imagined her face if he had taken the blanket from her and cupped her little pussy in his hand. His penis swelled and bent uncomfortably in his trousers. He grunted softly and shifted to let it bounce straight. He looked at the sleeping form of the girl, Siri, and gathered his strength of will to exit the room.

***

She was floating in shallow water. Their faces hovered over her. She tried to explain but they wouldn’t listen. They wanted her to swim where the water was so dark she’d be drawn in to the abyss. A weak current tugged at her feet. “I don’t want to,” she whispered at the faces, but the current got stronger and pulled at her body. “I won’t! You can’t make me!” she yelled, petrified of the unknown. The faces closed in to devour her and she screamed.

Her dream was penetrated by whispers and shushing. A warm and real hand stroked her clammy forehead. She noted a faint rustle of clothes and sensed the man standing right beside her. Choma’s hand cupped her cheek and he leaned closer. In a heartbeat all traces of sleep were gone. He brought his nose to her neck and breathed in her scent. Oh, god. She nearly twitched when the nausea hit her. What happened while I slept, she thought with a choking feeling in her throat. Frozen still she waited for Choma to crush her beneath his body and force himself inside her. Her terrified mind could feel her legs already spread and a man between them. Not this. Please.

She wanted to plea but as long as he thought she was asleep there was a chance it would all go away. Her chest was tight as she desperately held back a sob; she could almost feel his hands roaming her defenceless body and his fingers parting her nether lips for his cock. If he raped her, she had no choice but to lie down and let him. He was too strong to fight and besides, where would she run without clothes. She didn’t even know where she was. Before a tear escaped from beneath her closed eyelids he stepped away from the bed and left the room. She heard a very heavy sigh as he closed the door.

[audisingapore]

The first thing that registered was the smell of an old house. Knowing she wasn’t at home, she sat up slowly to find herself groggy in a strange dark room. She had shattered recollections of someone holding a cup to her lips, of fleeting voices and a rough hand stroking her forehead. She looked around her and listened - nothing. She wasn’t in a town or a city, for there was no light coming from the windows or any sounds of traffic. Fear swelled in her chest, fear of dark and of strangers. They’ve taken care of me this far, she reminded herself but the fear ran deeper than that.

Her hands shot up to her chest to fumble the long white shirt that covered her down to her thighs - it wasn’t hers. Feeling small and very much alone she saw in her mind a vague human shape stripping her, cruelly stealing from her the privacy to her own body. Her hands sought out her braid to hold on to something familiar, but she could tell at once it wasn’t of her own making.

Sitting still was impossible. She had to know where she was. She eased herself off the bed and on her shaky legs. Cursing every creek of the floor she shuffled to lean on the wall and opened the door. Behind it was a landing with stairs going down and two other doors. She detected a weak source of light from downstairs and proceeded to the first step. It took a moment to think up a best way to climb down and finally she sat down on the first step and one step at a time slid herself down.

Roaming in a strange house made her feel guilty but she didn’t want to announce herself just yet. She wanted to know who her hosts were first. On the last step she reached for the railing and pulled herself up. The hallway seemed to spin around her and she leaned against the wall, willing the world to stay still while she made her way towards the light.

She peeked into a cosy living room with an old fireplace and shabby furniture, a man sat in a chair facing the fire. His hair was touched by grey and his skin darkened by a lifetime spent outdoors. With her legs inevitably tiring, Siri studied Choma’s profile holding her breath. It’s his shirt. He’s touched me. Her nipples hardened and she realized she had no underwear. Has he used me? Her pussy tingled but there was no pain. Would I feel it if he has--, while I slept? Siri saved herself from the stain of the word. Christ, there may be semen welling in me right now. What will he do to me? Oh, I have to get out of here!

She meant to get her things and run but Choma had sensed her presence and looked up from his book. Surprised to find her up he hurried to her. Siri felt surreal for the man’s speech sounded like Russian but she couldn’t understand any of it. She closed her eyes in brink of tears and cowered against the wall pleading, “No, please, no,” when he approached. Choma, ignoring her silly fear, put a hand under her arm and led her a few clumsy steps, sitting her down on the worn sofa.

Disoriented and scared, Siri recoiled from him and backed in to the corner of the couch. Choma stepped back from the trembling girl. Waiting for his little ward to wake up he’d done what he could to make himself presentable and thus was a far neater looking man than the unkempt near hermit that found her. He’d shaven, trimmed his hair and found some clothes that hadn’t seen too many runs in the workshop. Still, he was a rugged, serious looking man and the long years alone hadn’t improved his social skills. He tried his best to look unthreatening but doubted his success.

He crouched to be on her level. “Listen, you’re safe here. I’m Choma, this is my house. I found you when you were sick.” She snatched an old quilt and covered herself. Choma was disappointed, he had expected a more cheerful moment than this. With his hands held up he rose and moving slowly past the girl sat down on the armrest of a chair next to the sofa. He kept his tone calm trying his best to reassure her but the confusion following her awakening was persistent and hard to penetrate. She starred at him with eyes bright with fever, her hands clutched the quilt and she cowered if he so much as shifted slightly.

They sat there a long while, her shock lessening and her breathing slowing down. As the minutes passed, and the man seemingly didn’t intend to harm her, Siri’s tense muscles loosened up. She closed her eyes and finally her brain picked words she understood. He said ‘my name is’. “Choma,” she murmured sleepily and, as the drowsiness of fever flooded her head, added “I’m… Ya Siri.”

She stirred to his hand stroking her hair. Choma was standing right next to her, smiling a warm smile that deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. That particular touch had since childhood been a promise of love, shelter and caring and Siri gave in to it. If Choma had wanted to hurt her he could have done so. With her eyes half closed she leaned her head against her rescuer in a silent plea for solace. When he slipped his hands under her arms and hauled her up she didn’t question it.

Choma led the woozy girl back to bed. Siri was unsteady on her feet but Choma kept his strong arm around her and didn’t let her fall. He tucked her in and she muttered, “Hyvää yötä,” her eyes already closed. “Na dobraniÄ�,” he replied automatically and sat down on the little chair in which he’d lately spent so many hours.

Siri fell asleep quickly, too tired to be aware of strangers or danger. Choma watched her. His flesh throbbed where she had laid her head. That intimation made him feel even more protective of her than before. Yet at the same time the image of her cowering form, bare legs and frightened eyes haunted him. Her small hands had squeezed so hard on the quilt which she had trusted to hide her vulnerability.

He had wanted to give her a reason to fear, to be the man she had thought him to be. Those legs had led not just his eyes but also his imagination to the secrets hidden in the shadows under the shirt. Choma imagined her face if he had taken the blanket from her and cupped her little pussy in his hand. His penis swelled and bent uncomfortably in his trousers. He grunted softly and shifted to let it bounce straight. He looked at the sleeping form of the girl, Siri, and gathered his strength of will to exit the room.

***

She was floating in shallow water. Their faces hovered over her. She tried to explain but they wouldn’t listen. They wanted her to swim where the water was so dark she’d be drawn in to the abyss. A weak current tugged at her feet. “I don’t want to,” she whispered at the faces, but the current got stronger and pulled at her body. “I won’t! You can’t make me!” she yelled, petrified of the unknown. The faces closed in to devour her and she screamed.

Her dream was penetrated by whispers and shushing. A warm and real hand stroked her clammy forehead. She noted a faint rustle of clothes and sensed the man standing right beside her. Choma’s hand cupped her cheek and he leaned closer. In a heartbeat all traces of sleep were gone. He brought his nose to her neck and breathed in her scent. Oh, god. She nearly twitched when the nausea hit her. What happened while I slept, she thought with a choking feeling in her throat. Frozen still she waited for Choma to crush her beneath his body and force himself inside her. Her terrified mind could feel her legs already spread and a man between them. Not this. Please.

She wanted to plea but as long as he thought she was asleep there was a chance it would all go away. Her chest was tight as she desperately held back a sob; she could almost feel his hands roaming her defenceless body and his fingers parting her nether lips for his cock. If he raped her, she had no choice but to lie down and let him. He was too strong to fight and besides, where would she run without clothes. She didn’t even know where she was. Before a tear escaped from beneath her closed eyelids he stepped away from the bed and left the room. She heard a very heavy sigh as he closed the door.

[audisingapore]

Chapter Four

In the morning Siri felt a little better and sat on the bed plucking up courage to leave the room. Her clothes waited on a chair, washed clean, panties and all. She remembered some flashes of last night and was uneasy to face the man again. She desperately wanted to wash. The not knowing of what he had or hadn’t done to her while she was out ate at her. Her cunt itched and wouldn’t let her mind rest. The doubt of having been soiled was unbearable. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stop thinking about sex! She wondered if her mind was racing so because she had gone off her medicine or was it her instincts crying out to warn her.

She found him in the kitchen preparing what turned out to be a rather awkward breakfast. Choma, although trying hard to hide it, resented that Siri was still obviously afraid of him. He wanted to be understanding but her suspicion made him feel stupid for looking after her. Her memory, on the other hand, was coming back and she knew she was in Ukraine, but not getting any further answers was infuriating. She was grasping at straws trying every language she knew and a few she didn’t. She kept coming back to English and Russian but the man didn’t show any signs of recognition. Siri buried her face in her hands, hot tears burning in her eyes, and Choma took pity on the disheartened girl. “Larisa will be glad to see you up. Larisa is my friend.” Siri looked up. “She helped you too.” He felt stupid talking to her as if she was a lackwit, “Larisa will come visit.”

The woman Choma later led to the living room was in her fifties and emitted purposefulness that bordered on intimidating. Not bothering to slow down her speech, she greeted Siri kindly introducing herself as Larisa Ivasivna. She shooed Choma out of the room and prompted Siri to take off her shirt and bra. She was embarrassed but Larisa laughed it away and assured her in a no-nonsense voice. Gingerly Siri undressed and the older woman looked her over front and back. Feeling fragile and exposed with her breasts bare, Siri’s thoughts wandered to Choma and his visit during the night.

Siri couldn’t understand what Larisa was saying and her imagination conjured up one scary explanation after another. She was stiff with fear, sure that Larisa was a brothel keeper here to buy her. The thought of strange men looking at her nakedness burned and froze her simultaneously and her nipples hardened. She stared at the ceiling willing what ever was to come to be over soon.

Her breath caught in her throat when Larisa pressed an ear between Siri’s plump breasts. Siri held her breath, humiliated to be naked in front of a stranger and shocked to be touched. Larisa said something and exaggerated her breathing and Siri resumed to take in air. The woman straightened her back and turned Siri around. Her ear pressed against Siri’s back and she dutifully breathed for her. Larisa started chattering and though Siri didn’t understand the words she recognized the tone from a hundred check ups, after which followed the doctors statement of everything being ok.

Siri put her shirt back on in a hurry. Seeing that her patient was decent Larisa called Choma back in and explained him that Siri’s lungs were fine. Choma’s smile was relieved. He looked at Siri but she cast her eyes down, still uncomfortable to have been examined so brusquely.

Choma invited Larisa to stay but she declined, charging Choma with the care of Siri. He was glancing frequently at her, her meek eyes meeting with his. Larisa ended her speech in a cheeky joke embarrassing the both of them, though Siri had no grasp of the contents of it. Siri could tell it wasn’t the first time Larisa met her and she wondered which of them had stripped her and put her to bed.

The front door closed and Siri and her benefactor were alone. The floorboards creaked under his feet as Choma returned to the living room. Siri crossed her arms to hide her erect nipples poking through her shirt. It didn’t help her to relax that she was thinking the whole time if he had seen her naked. Does he know what I look like under my clothes? Is he thinking about it? Did he touch me when he undressed me? Siri’s pussy smouldered and she felt his phantom finger stroking her unconscious body. A shudder ripped through her and she was powerless to subdue it. Choma rushed to her, alarmed that she would suffer a relapse. Siri was thankful he’d never know of the real source of the shudder, of the throb between her legs.

Choma broke the silence by taking her to have a look around his homestead. Most of the house she’d already seen, but outside a big yard was framed by a shed, a workshop, a sloping blackcurrant field of some 40 bushes and a small kitchen garden with fruit trees. The house was a bit run-down alike those she’d seen in pictures taken of Russian Carelian countryside. Where the slope ended flowed a little stream, a stretch of which Choma had widened into a bathable pool. In the middle of the yard stood a chicken coo with its cackling inhabitants and a greenhouse pieced together from old windowpanes. Siri was impressed for the farm was not unlike some of the more utopistic dreams of down to earth life she’d harboured back home.

Still, she wanted to know where she was, where was her backpack, her passport, her everything. In her honest believe that everyone everywhere had to know some English – if just a few latent words picked up from pop lyrics – she tried to reach him. Choma stared at her apologetically, feeling cruel for not answering, but as much as he wanted to he couldn’t.

With no helpful bystanders there to translate, after a series of unsuccessful attempts she fell into tears shouting at him in Finnish, desperate and frustrated not to get through to the only person she had to ask anything from. He got up and walked to her. More clumsy than the previous night he hugged her to him, and she was in such a state that this intimacy with a stranger didn’t throw her off, she just buried her face to his chest, mewing. He stroked her hair and tried to calm her down, speaking softly. The sofa wasn’t three meters away but he scooped her up and carried her to it.

He lay her down and she felt very vulnerable. Siri was afraid he’d take advantage of her but he fetched a blanket from one of the chairs and threw it over her. He said something to her she couldn’t understand and left the room. Soon after she heard him leave the house.

She went on sobbing for a long time, huddling in a foetal position beneath the blanket. When her body had no strength for sobs left, silent tears streamed down her face, welling in the hollow of her eye. The little quilt pillow under her head was wet as was the blanket she had dried her tears with. After an hour of regretting ever leaving home she fell asleep.

Siri woke up with Choma crouching beside her and his hand stroking her forehead. She sat up quickly, startled to wake up to a strange face looming over her. It took a while to remember who he was. According to the grandfather clock in the corner he’d left her for over four hours. His clothes were wet and behind him she saw her backpack. Seeing her smile, Choma looked like a daddy watching his little girl’s joy unwrapping a new doll on Christmas. He dragged the pack to her and she started unpacking, searching comfort from her familiar things. Everything was damp but undamaged except things made of paper. The brochures were a disgusting grey paste but her passport, notebook and map were safe each in their own ziplock bags.

Squinting over the map, she deduced she was on the opposite side of the lake than where the bus route ran. Choma reached his hand for her notebook, and she let him take a look at it for he wouldn’t be able to read her Finnish anyway. He studied the different tickets and poured over her drawings nodding apprecietatively. He turned the pages back to the title of the very first page. “Koti?” he asked. “Home,” she answered, “doma,” and took the book away from him. She needed no remainders that if she wasn’t happy at her old life, this new she had chosen, this vagrancy, was not making her glow with happiness either.

She showed him the calendar and the day she got off the bus and Choma pointed at six days from it. She felt uneasy, the man had had her in that room for three days, helpless and senseless. He lives here alone. Everyone has needs. Would he have used me? Her pussy prickled, and deep inside her vagina a burning sensation began where his imaginary semen would have settled.

The knot in her stomach didn’t leave her alone and she felt him inside her the whole evening. When ever he looked at her or came close she shuddered and winced as her cunt cramped. Her skin smouldered with goosebumps when she thought of how he’d hugged her, what it had felt like, her breasts pressing on his chest, his arms on her back pressing her gently against him.

Finally it was late enough to get up and say goodnight. Her walk was stiff as she made her way back to her room upstairs. Her whole body was tense after the wandering of her restless thoughts and, mind whirling, she couldn’t sleep. She wanted to touch herself but didn’t dare in this unfamiliar place. And what if he’ll catch me? She could subdue the moans almost completely but he might hear her heavy breathing. After a while she heard the stairs creek as Choma came up. His steps on the landing pierced her heart and she realized how wound up she was. He stopped outside her door for a moment and she could feel the beats of her heart as bulging pressure in her ears as she waited for him to turn the latch.

Then the floor creaked and he walked away and her body went limp. She breathed trying to catch the breath she’d been holding. It was not fear, not derision - her body wanted him.

***

[audisingapore]

Repeat so erase

[audisingapore]

***

In the night she stirred, the door to her room had opened. He came in, trying to avoid the creaking floorboards on the path to her bed. She tensed and stopped breathing as he came close and placed his hand on her forehead. When he caressed her, she couldn’t stop the air from escaping her lungs in a tiny gasp and her legs squirming to ease the pressing need in her pussy. Choma hastily withdrew his hand and left the room.

She lay awake for a long time and finally after hearing his low rumbling snores from behind the wall she dared to slide her hands on her pussy and bring herself off. She wished she had something inside, filling her pussy, on which her muscles could clamp on. Remembering that all her toiletry bottles were still downstairs with the pack she cursed.

***

On their second day she followed him around when he went about his work. She traced his steps as he walked between the rows of blackcurrant bushes checking the progress of the crop. She handed him tools as he fixed the fence of the chicken coo and listened keenly to his chatting. When she heard a word she recognized she repeated it and nodded, relieved to understand something. Her Russian was mostly ridiculous but she kept trying.

In the evening she came to his workshop and after watching him work for a while, she reached for his old apron, wanting to help. Choma was happy for she certainly prettied up his old shed. Her eyes were full of laughter, squinting into green teasing cat eyes and Choma never knew if the seduction in them was innate, intended or only of his imagination. When she smiled the crack between her front teeth made Choma want to smile with her. He wondered what her hair looked like. She always kept it tightly braided but as cute as it was he wished he could watch her brush it out and see her long strawberry blonde hair flowing down her shoulders.

[audisingapore]

Chapter five

At first the girl had been nothing but his chance to make amends, but watching her and nursing her had given him a feeling of power over her. She was in his hands and he couldn’t help being turned on by it. When she woke up and turned out to be the picture of innocence, shy and girly, he’d been ashamed of himself, but through her sweetness he felt her gazes on him, too intense to miss. She was hard to read but in any case the dirty thoughts he had pained him and made him feel guilty. She was older than he’d thought when he found her, but twenty four was still twenty two years younger than him. She was too vulnerable for him to have her in his head naked and moaning. Yet every night there she was.

Each night there was also more tension in their parting to sleep in their respective rooms. He’d begun to think of it as her room and every day it was more difficult to remember what the house had been like before her. In the evenings he liked to sit in the living room with her sitting nearby crouching over her journal. He wished he could understand her strange language for the notebook could probably answer many of his questions.

The girl had been well enough to travel for a few days but she didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Not that he complained, it was nice to have company. It was difficult to understand though. Where had she come from? She must have been on her way to somewhere when he’d found her but what the hell was she doing out there in the middle of nowhere alone. Since she travelled with such a backpack she might be just another tourist but his homestead wasn’t much of an attraction. He’d checked her passport and the stamps traced her steps from Finland through the Baltic states, Belarus and Poland all the way to Ukraine.

The name she’d given him was none of the three first names listed on the passport. Was that important? What did she want? Why was she staying? Choma had his own sinister suspicions but he’d left that life so long ago. If she had been sent to search for Vakhno she’d have a passport to match any name she went by.

[audisingapore]

Chapter six

The work of the day was done and Choma was reading on the couch. Siri came to him, sat down and looking at him timidly leaned her head in his lap. He didn’t know what to make of it and the situation might have been very awkward but she was so calm that it rubbed on him. She lay still, occasionally rubbing her head in his lap, drinking in some kind of solace but he didn’t feel drained, on the contrary he felt invigorated. He put a hand over her head and she let out a long sigh. A moment later she was asleep. It hadn’t been sexual but now she was sleeping his mind raced and he had to wake her up. Her petrol blue t-shirt had a wide rectangular neckline and he could see the tops of her breasts. They didn’t look so much sexy as they did pretty. Like all of her her breasts seemed innocent and soft. He wanted to cup them in his hands and close the whole girl in his arms, but it would be a disaster to have her wake up to his stiffening penis poking at the back of her head. Stroking her head he woke her up and sent her upstairs to sleep in her own bed.

Siri couldn’t sleep for her thoughts wandered to the moments during the day he’d stood so close to her that a deep breath would have made them brush against each other. Little ripples of warmth travelled on her skin and she sensed acutely the cool cotton of the sheets on her and the weight of the duvet. She was hot and pushed the duvet from her chest, imagining all the sensations of his big warm hands exploring her body, searching a way in. His imagined touch reached her knees and she spread her legs, straining her tendons as wide as she could to invite him to touch her. The duvet slid down to the valley between her legs and the bundle had her aching for Choma’s heavy frame there, his flesh against hers. She bent her knees and reached her hands to her crotch. She’d made herself wet, the juices from inside her had leaked out and spread as she had writhed and gyrated in her imaginations. Her whole pussy was sticky and glistening.

Her own touch was not what her body craved, but when she parted her wet lips and rested her fingers over the fold of flesh that hid her pearl it didn’t matter, she just needed to get off and fast. Rubbing wildly she let out two little moans while writhing in her fantasies, but anyone could moan faintly in their sleep. When she came she moaned louder and cursed as her startle took off the sharpest edge of her orgasm leaving her angry, wanton and disappointed.

Her annoyance stopped as she heard creaking from behind the wall. Choma had gotten up. Too nervous to breathe she lay back down and straightened her night shirt. She tried to kick the duvet back to cover her but managed only to reveal her other leg in its entirety. She was aware of the smell of her steaming pussy in the air above her. She quickly hid her smelly rubbing hand under her ass and blew the air from her lungs to disperse the cloud around her. The metallic klick of the door latch opening froze her.

Through his sleep Choma had heard her moan. After all his solitude he was sensitive to noises in his house. He’d heard a moan just like the ones she’d let out in her fever delirium. He walked carefully to the landing and entered her room. The girl had kicked the covers aside and her brow was hot and sweaty. Her breathing was closer to panting than the deep breathing of a sleeper. “Please don’t get ill again little angel,” Choma whispered and wiped the clammy sweat from her forehead and stroked her as he had so many times before. She was a sweet thing. He stared at her bare leg, the old shirt askew, lips slightly open, chest heaving. He shivered at the sight, knowing that if he slid his hand up her leg he’d find the hot moist snatch of a sleeping woman. He wanted her. He looked at her breasts, the soft shapes he could more remember than see in the darkness.

Without thinking his hand brushed down the side of her head. When his hand touched her neck above her collarbone she whimpered and twitched. Quickly Choma removed his hand, embarrassed if the girl should wake. She didn’t move again and the sweat hadn’t reappeared and her breathing had normalized. Perhaps it was just a nightmare. He stood still for a moment and as the girl slept peacefully, straightened her duvet to cover her from neck to toe.

She waited for him to touch her, she wished for him to touch her, but he walked out. Her clit smouldering, she wanted to speak up, to ask him to come back and make it all better, but what would he think of her? His opinion had become to mean something to her. She had had plans where she was to go after the lake visit, in Ukraine and further, and she was well enough to travel again, but she was reluctant to resume her hikes, bus rides and nights in strange hostels. All of that had diminished into an insubstantial haze in her mind after she had waken up in Choma’s house. The man and his way of life interested her, a man who on other hand made her laugh and on the other hand brooded like no other. Where between those two aspects of him could she ask him to grab her tight, strip her and take her?

Here on his homestead had happened the thing she had searched all the way from Estonia to Slovakia and now Ukraine. She had forgotten the anxiety that had driven her to escape her life back home, she’d lost the nagging thoughts that had driven her mad. In this house in the middle of nowhere, where everything was strange and yet so very simple, could she finally breathe and be free from the life she’d been born to, the madness of shopping, competition, degrees, career choices and the little happy pills that got people through it all. If only time would go faster. She wanted him but she didn’t want to be a slut and loose his respect or his friendship, for she felt so right being there.

[audisingapore]

Chapter seven

They’d been picking blackcurrants all morning. She had to take off her t-shirt in the mid-day heat even though she knew her sweaty chemise showed through more than it hid. The moment of embarrassment was fleeting and the unpleasantness was smothered by the familiar rippling sensation on her clit. Let him see. She closed her eyes and imagined Choma staring at her intently, breathing in ragged bursts. They were both wearing romantic peasant clothes and his gripping eyes held her gaze and stiffly he took a few steps, closing the distance between them. She was petrified and did nothing when he seized her, blazing with unrestrained desire. Such fire in the generally calm man scared her and she fought back when he proceeded to fell her on the dry ground. “Choma!” she shrieked but no echo took up her plea.

He pushed her skirts up and yanked her bloomers down. “Shh,” he commanded and sticked his berry purple fingers in her mouth to be sucked. “Open your legs,” he demanded. He pulled his hand free and leaned it in the dirt beside her head. “No help from upstairs,” he murmured raggedly positioning his other hand, clean of saliva, on her crotch. When his fingertips brushed her pussy she moaned loudly and her body, having waited for this moment for days, arched up to beg him to enter. Her labia, glistening with her secretions, gave no resistance and his dry fingers slid right inside her to search for the opening to her pussy. “You should have told me you needed a man this badly,” Choma sneered as he roughened his advances. Siri yelped when he shoved sharply with his fingers and scratched the linings of her pussy forcing his way in. “Have you been walking around dripping all this time? Little slut, I’ll teach you to hold out on me.”

She was sitting up to undo his trousers when Choma called for her. “What are you staring at silly girl? Has the sun made you faint? Where’s the hat I gave you?” Siri realized she’d been staring at his body with glazed hungry eyes for god knows how long and, blushing terribly, looked down mumbling something unrecognizable.

***

Though his house had a bathroom with a bathtub Choma liked to wash in the stream that ran along his backyard. He crouched over the cold stream every morning and after the day’s work was done. He thought she slept when he walked to it early each morning but Siri watched from her bedroom window as he took off his clothes folding them on a rock and waded up to his waist in the stream, soaping his naked body and crouching down to rinse. It had been mere curiosity at first but as her feelings towards him grew more and more erotic, she watched him with longing, wishing she could join him. She crept back under her duvet to touch herself but often the frustration kept her from getting off. On such mornings sitting opposite him in the kitchen was awkward for she feared he could smell her like a mare in heat – seething, hot and needy.

In the evening Choma lifted the blackcurrant crates to his truck and they drove half an hour to a dilapidated cannery. The proprietor, Oleg, grinned when he saw a girl on the passenger seat. “And I thought you didn’t have any children.” Both men watched as Siri walked timidly to stand a few steps behind Choma.

“Sorry to be the one to break this to you old friend, but she’s too pretty to be of your issue.”

“Very funny Oleg, very funny,” Choma growled as Siri held out her hand to be introduced.

From behind the corner Oleg’s grandson was watching the three, hankering to tell everybody about Choma’s young friend, for there had to be something really dirty in this new piece of gossip.

[audisingapore]

Chapter eight

His thoughts were a mess, for Choma hadn’t slept that well since Siri had been with him. His dreams were restless and full of images he’d rather not think about: Siri bent over his workbench buttocks quivering, Siri kneeling in front of his chair her throat bulging with his cock, a naked crying Siri pinned against her bedroom door, a terrified Siri thrown on the ground with her dress torn. He had fought these thoughts for almost two weeks but as she was present at every part of his home and at every moment of his day it just wasn’t possible to block her from his mind. Once his sleep was disrupted and he lay awake in his bed, the smooth touch of the sheets on his skin became the touch of her skin and the warmth of his duvet nest the warmth of her body, and any attempt to get back to sleep was doomed.

He visited her room every night, sometimes more than once but the pleasure it had given him when he was looking after her was gone and now it only left him feeling constricted and choked. She always slept on her right side, clutching a pillow in her arms and looking lost. His desire to protect her throbbed ardently and the only thing that throbbed more was his cock. She was too sweet to hurt but he wasn’t sure for how long he could trust himself to fight the urges her presence woke up.

That night when they parted on the landing Siri looked him in the eyes saying “Na dobraniÄ�,” and added in Finnish “I’m waiting for you.” In the night Choma came as he always did and she pretended to sleep while he laid something on the bedside table. She could tell it was a book, but in the darkness it was impossible to find out more.

***

Early the next morning Siri woke up, instantly reaching for Choma’s book - an old and worn English-Ukrainian dictionary. She raced downstairs in her white nightshirt, running straight to the kitchen looking for Choma. He turned to face her and laughed to see her so excited. “Now I can talk to you!” Siri whooped wildly and ran to hug him. Choma was stunned as the girl, the warmth of her bed still clinging to her, thumped against him. To Siri the second was a long one before Choma stirred and stiffly put his arms around her. She could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin cotton fabric and didn’t move even after the duration of a normal hug was well past.

When she felt a restless stir in her body, she let go of him and stepped back. She gestured him to wait and consulted her new friend. Finding the word Siri read it out loud, “Happy.” When she looked up, Choma’s expression was restrained; his eyes were fixed on her and she realized that in the rays of morning light beaming through the window, his old shirt must have shown through quite a lot. Suddenly very self-conscious, she gave him a hesitant smile and bolted to the stairs.

Heart pounding she ran into her room, closed the door and stood her back against the back wall breathing hard. All the piled up sexual urges attacked her with vehemence. “No, no, no,” she murmured to herself until the door creaked open. Choma stood in the doorway staring at her, his hands gripping the doorframe. She didn’t move, only stared back with every muscle rigid and let out a weak whine.

Choma had invaded her personal space but Siri didn’t shoo him away. She was frozen in place, staring at him with her lips slightly apart. He could feel every ounce of his own strength and when she let out that insecure little whimper, there was nothing that could have stopped his hunger. He stalked towards the girl and she yipped in fright, reflexively lifting her hands in front of her. Yet Choma smiled for she hadn’t dodged.

He reached around her and pulled her to him. His other hand was in her neck, keeping her still as he leaned down to kiss her. She wriggled, fighting his embrace, and her hands tried listlessly to push him away but all the time she was kissing him back, her fingers digging into the flesh of his upper arms. Her lips were silky soft and he couldn’t wait to touch the rest of her. His swelling cock pressed hard against the girl’s belly and Siri whinnied. She tried to back away from him, but Choma took a step forward and effectively pinned her between himself and the wall. He moved his hand down and reached for her pussy.

Siri struggled at his rough attempts to cop a feel. If she hadn’t resisted he could’ve done it more gently, but without her cooperation he had to use force to part her lips and find the entrance to her secrets. She yanked herself free but her spinning momentum caused her to crash hard on her bed and Choma was on her like a wolf. He straddled her, restraining her legs and took hold of her hands, pinning them beside her head. There he paused.

The girl had panicked but at first she had been undeniably enthusiastic. Now there was fear in her eyes but there didn’t need to be. If she calmed down Choma was sure she’d like it. He hadn’t forgotten how eagerly her little body had pressed against him in the kitchen - she longed for him just as bad as he longed for her.

He kept his hips in the air so she wouldn’t feel the erection that had spooked her. “Shh,” he breathed, leaning to rub his cheek on hers. He told her not to be scared but couldn’t be sure if she understood, however, the fact that she wasn’t fighting back was an invitation to him. The amount of blood rushed in his cock almost hurt; he shifted and it straightened in his trousers. When he leaned back to her it pressed against her tense body and she let out an anguished moan.

He licked her neck slowly from her collarbone all the way to the spot behind her ear. She resisted and tried to get her hands free but he held her tight. She moaned angrily, but when he started kissing and nibbling her neck softly, she arched into him and her moans petered out into gasps and whimpers.

Letting go of her hands, Choma brushed his palms lightly against her breasts and Siri’s pebble hard nipples raked his skin. He was amazed of her responsiveness for her reactions to his touch were impressively powerful. She gyrated her hips, bucking into him, wordlessly asking to be touched stronger, harder, more. Every caress made her squirm and moan, and her hands grabbed his flesh, kneading like a cat in rhythm with her spasms. She didn’t resist when he one by one undid the buttons of his old shirt and revealed her body. Siri felt the fabric pushed aside but she was well past playing coy, for she wanted to be touched and taken.

Choma slid a finger to her opening, circling it, hardly able to believe the amount of wetness pouring out of her. She cried out and bucked impatiently onto the finger but he pulled back, playing with her. Her desire was volatile and aggressive and in a burst of anger she yelled at him until her rage broke into a plea. She was tense, her body resting on her shoulders and butt, her back rigid.

He didn’t have the heart to torment her any longer and he slid his finger inside her. She wailed loudly, and her sensual mouth curved into a blissful smile. The tight hole sucked on his digit and he dived slowly deeper. She urged him on, deeper and faster and as he put in more fingers, her pussy clamped on him, welcoming the touch.

He wanted to bury himself into that wetness but watching her was too interesting to stop. She lifted her ass in the air and fucked back, impaling herself harshly on his fingers. He fucked her harder yet she wanted more and more. He pressed her hips down and held her still. He tore into her pussy adamant to teach her not to ask for more than she could take.

His nail scratched her labia and the tiny amount of blood that smeared on her steaming vulva was enough for him to taste it in the back of his throat. To his surprise the crueller he was, the more she spread her thighs for him and her hands, previously flailing about, acquired new determination. She placed her delicate fingers on her slit and started masturbating. She hadn’t hidden her pleasure before but this was new for Choma - so much lust in one deceptively shy girl.

She twisted her leg between them and put her heel behind his bent elbow. She nudged his hand towards her, not letting him pull back from her cunt anymore, demanding him to get deeper and deeper. He’d stopped to his knuckles, when her pelvic opening resisted further advancement. Now she was kicking his hand deeper. When he pushed against the unyielding opening of bone her face cringed in pain but her heel on his elbow didn’t let up. “Make me feel alive. Make me scream. Please Choma, help me, I’m so hollow I can’t take it anymore.” She had to talk to him even if he didn’t understand.

She stopped rubbing herself and looked him in the eyes, “Make it hurt, please.” Her request, as earnest as it was, brought back memories he’d tried to forget. He didn’t want to do it, mix abuse and power games with sex because for him that way lay madness. However, to his chagrin, his willpower lasted but two whole minutes against the feel of her pulsing hole around his hand and the sight of the sweating wanton Siri. Growling at the horny girl he rammed his hand forwards, furiously attacking her vagina. Siri screamed and bucked when the punch hit the tissue surrounding her pelvic passage.

Choma ignored her distress. Fuck you bleating little princess, you asked for this. On his third try the fist plunged through, jutting out of her like a skewer. Howling, Siri pressed her thighs together squeezing his forearm between them. She curled into a ball, sobbing faintly. They were quiet for a long time during which Choma listened to her breathe in sharp gasps, trying not to amp up the pain. He was elated. He didn’t want to, but he’d loved to make her scream for him.

[audisingapore]

The blood circulation in his hand had stopped due to her tightness and his hand was going numb. Siri writhed trying to get used to the fist piercing her body. She didn’t feel hollow and cold anymore, it was better, but she needed to feel safe now, she wanted him inside her, warm and strong. She wanted him to lay on top of her, cover her with his body and completely hide her from the world.

“I need you in me,” she sighed. “I have to have you inside me.” But how could she ask that of him. So many times in the past had she been turned down and now she really needed him and there was no safe alternative. Her coil had been due to replacement a year ago and no longer worked. Wincing she turned on her back and straightened her legs, his arm still sticking out of her cunt. She rose slightly and touched his fly. Choma was dumbfounded of her initiative, for her to ask more was the last thing he’d expected. She caressed his penis through the fabric and he grunted. He moved the hand inside her and Siri yelped but opened her legs for him. He had no patience for fisting any more though, and he pulled his hand agonizingly slowly out of her pink hole while she huffed and whimpered in pain.

She lay still, looking shy and vulnerable as he got up from the bed and removed his clothes. A small flicker of fear passed in her eyes when she saw his large cock, fully erect and demanding. He got on top of her, pinning down her shivering body. “Shh,” he whispered to her but she flinched as his penis poked her crotch. “Choma,” she said in distress, “Choma, Choma, Choma,” she repeated quickly and shoved him off her. When her hands were free she lifted them to her chest mimicking cradling a baby. Choma cursed furiously, don’t play with me princess, not now.

Siri turned timidly on her side and reached to stroke his cock. She ran her fingers along his shaft and continued to run them on her skin until they reached the cleft between her buttocks. “You could… here,” she mumbled shyly, not daring to look at him in the eye. It was so dirty and he was larger than she was usually willing to take in her ass. Yet it couldn’t be helped now – she wanted him too much. It took a while for Choma to understand her meaning and those moments out on a limb burned her. Please don’t hate me, please.

Choma had only once done what she was asking and have this innocent eyed girl shyly propose it drove him wild. He remembered Her and how she’d screamed when he ripped her apart. Roughly he rolled Siri on her stomach and lifted her ass up a little. “Choma,” she cried, her voice fearful, and reached for a bottle of hand cream. “Use this,” she whispered and settled back down, her body tight as a bow string. She jolted to the sound of the tube’s cap flicking open and waited for his hands to spread her plump cheeks. “Slow,” she repeated in five languages including Ukraine while Choma was lubing up. Her attempts to communicate were endearing but they couldn’t reach the savage beast taking over Choma’s mind. She felt small, lost and afraid and she needed him. Please Choma, she thought, make me safe. The entry would hurt even if he would be gentle, but after that, she knew, it would all be pure bliss.

She lay beneath him, prone, legs apart and reached her hands to spread herself for him. Her buttocks quivered just like in his fantasies as the tip of his cock touched her asshole and she flinched and immediately apologized for it. Her eagerness to get his cock to fulfil her most secret place was incredible. She whimpered when he started to push and the resistance of her little hole surprised him - he would need to push hard to get her gate to yield.

When he pushed harder she started pulling back. “Slow,” she yelped but he wanted in. He slid his hands just above her shoulders so she couldn’t move away from him. He applied strong steady pressure and felt the center give way and painfully slowly open wider. He kept on the same strong pressure and the girl started bucking and shouting. She reached for him with her hands and tried to push him off but he was stronger. He pushed on and stretched her ass despite her shrieking. It felt so good to have something that private of hers to yield to him.

The head of his cock plopped inside and Siri wailed, “Out! Out! Take it out!” She rolled over to her side and lay twitching and mewing with his cock inside her. Her hands were against his hips but it did no good to push him anywhere anymore, he was in. He wanted to stroke her hair and comfort her but on the other hand it turned him on to see her cower under him in pain.


Impatient to be completely buried inside her sweet body, he wanted to lunge inside her, to conquer her hidden depths and impale her on him. He’d finally own the lovely creature fallen into his life and all the strangeness of whys would be gone. Relishing in her grunts Choma pushed his thick shaft deeper into her young ass. First it resisted his intrusion but slowly her walls expanded and her colon gave way to the head of his cock and opened up. Siri grimaced but forced herself to relax her back passage for him. Her sphincter hurt badly but deeper his advances felt pleasant and she turned back onto her stomach. With big strong hands Choma grabbed her and obediently she rose her hips to meet his.

Siri gasped as Choma buried himself deeper with short strokes. It burned, him stretching her with every penetration, but Siri wanted him as deep inside her abused little fuck hole as he could manage. Finally he leaned into her so he could feed her his whole length and, enjoying the alien fullness inside her, Siri fucked back and endured the stomach cramps that resulted when Choma’s cock hit bottom. The pain was so beautiful and cured all aches and itches she’d harboured since waking up in his house.

Choma began working rhythmically, plowing in and out. Hot lines of pleasure flickered across his mind as the walls of Siri’s ass were dragging at him, sucking the cum from his balls. After all those days of frustration he couldn’t hold out for long and soon spewed his seed inside the slightly disappointed girl. She wanted to flop back on the mattress in her lovely warm fugue but felt too dirty to lay back and enjoy. She wrapped her towel carefully around her and walked barefoot to the stream where Choma had erected an old barn door for her privacy. On a little stool waited the basin which she filled up with the crisp cold water and poured and splashed on herself. She liked bathing outside, resting her eyes on the scenery as the water refreshed her but the plunge was never as easy for her as it was for Choma, who was used to washing in cold water.

***

Siri had been quiet since she got back in the house. She’d said nothing while they had breakfast and quickly turned her head away if their eyes met. Her embarrassment saddened Choma for there was no need for it. He used every chance and excuse to touch her and Siri accepted his clumsy displays of affection with nervous smiles but hardly looked up at him. Her ass had a comfortable ache reminding her how he’d gently but firmly broken through her confused resistance and pumped her full of the liquid that warmed her to the core. Yet she’d never gotten over the stamp of dirtiness sodomy carried and owning up to liking it came hard. The day passed slowly for both of them but come evening the competence Choma radiated had calmed her and when he touched her she reciprocated.

That night he took her to his bed. She felt like a sacrificial animal as Choma purposefully led her upstairs in complete silence. He walked her past the smaller bedroom and into his own to stand in front of him. She was absolutely still, waiting for his lead, but careful not to in any way express unwillingness. Without a word Choma stripped her garment by garment, slowly tracing his nose on her bare skin savouring her softness and scent. He reached behind her and slid the elastic band off her braid. He carefully combed out her hair with his fingers until it tumbled down over her shoulders. The tips of the wavy strands touched Siri’s hardened nipples tickling her.

Choma couldn’t believe the nymph in his bedroom was real. She fidgeted and moved her arms to cover her breasts and crotch. The sudden change in their relationship, how ever welcome, scared her and it made her look so fragile Choma could hardly bring himself to touch her.

Her eyes were shut tight but she opened them when he took her face in his hands. How could she look so innocent and scared when it wasn’t twelve hours past she had groaned with his cock up her ass. She let him walk her to the bed and obediently lay down as he tucked her in. Standing at the foot of the bed he took off his own clothes while she watched.

Siri loved to close her eyes and surrender to him. Being powerless intoxicated her and with his coaxing her juices quickened. She wanted to shout at him to touch her or grab at his hands and put them on her flesh but it was exciting to give him all the control.

When his fingers stroked her awaiting pussy her body jolted and she gasped sharply. She moaned when he parted her lips and slid his fingers inside. The pocket was full of slick juice and Choma shivered – all that was for him.

Siri didn’t know what she had expected but when Choma rolled her on her stomach and lined his cock with her puckered little anus she let out a sharp cry, “No! Not there, it’s too soon, I’m hurting! No, please, no!” Choma didn’t’ care, he poured some of the hand cream on her and started pushing in as she squirmed in his grip

[humane]

Applaud you for the extreme diligence. Keep it flowing.

[audisingapore]

No response means story no good?