Happily

Author’s Note: This is just a little something I wrote a few years back and thought it was worth a chuckle to post. I was considering continuing this story, but only if you readers request it. So, read on and tell me whether or not I should continue onto the next chapter. No flames, please.


Prologue

Happily, a young girl walked through the park, admiring the autumn foliage as she leisurely sucked on a popsicle, her long midnight pigtails and dark green scarf fluttering in the wind. Straying from the path to walk through the thick brush of the small forest area, she was so wrapped up in looking at the brilliant colors of the turning leaves that she failed to notice someone following her. Max Milani, resting on a park bench to read a book, had spotted the little elfin girl, her short pleated skirt fluttering in the breeze and Mary Janes quietly stepping down the cobblestone path as she slowly wrapped her mouth around the thick, cylinder-shaped popsicle, pushing it in and pulling it out as she sucked on it, the motion obvious and almost deliberate but for her childish naiveté.

Dismissing all rational thought, he had immediately dropped the book and took to following her, further enticed as he admired her petite figure along the way, the placement of her hips making him salivate eagerly. Now, as he stalked her through the concealing brush, he pocketed his reading glasses in his trench coat as he prepared to hunt her down.

However, she unexpectedly stopped, kneeling down on the leafy ground as she coaxed a squirrel to her with a cookie she extracted from her pocket. He watched her from behind a nearby tree, her charming cuteness enthralling him as she handed her furry friend a chunk of the cookie. She smiled and watched as the squirrel hopped away with her gift, and Max decided that it was now or never. Walking up to her, though, a twig snapped under his foot and she turned around, looking at him silently with her inquisitive crimson eyes.

He was stunned by the deep, strange color of her eyes, stopping in his tracks and staring. She blinked, and then smiled, holding out the rest of the cookie to him in offering. He hesitated, puzzled by her action, then apprehensively walked up to her and stared at the cookie. It seemed to be homemade, and held a certain childlike air about it, making him certain that she had cooked it herself. Uneasily, he reached out and took the cookie, staring at it for another moment before biting into it. It was sweet and still warm from being in her pocket, but he found it hard to swallow as sudden shame and sadness choked his throat. Tears threatened to come to his eyes, but he held them back and carefully placed the rest of the cookie in his pocket. For some reason, he felt as if he had just swallowed some of her innocence.

She stood up and started to walk away, but he quickly grasped her arm and jerked her back hard so she crashed against him. She looked up at him, confusion and fear in her eyes as she met his dark gaze, tears now clouding his vision and falling as he tilted her unresisting chin up and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes widened, but she seemed frozen as he kissed her, this tall, dark stranger who held her tightly by the arms and pressed her to his body.

He wanted to scream at her to run almost as much as he wanted to hold her still and abuse her for being so pure, so beautiful. He pulled his lips away and blinked out his tears before looking her in the eye, seeing the same fear, confusion and surprise, but he found, much to his own horror, that what he wanted to see in her eyes was pain.

This girl, this child he held didn’t scream so much as make a noise when he began to kiss the sweet, handsome curve of her bare neck, but only when he started using his teeth did she begin to make a soft weeping sound. This elevated quickly into painful cries as he bit into her neck, his rather sharp incisors tingling as they sank into her soft porcelain skin.

A rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins at hearing her pain, her loud, sharp yelp as he broke her skin. The metallic tang of blood flowed into his eagerly accepting mouth and he sucked, drinking her almost sweet blood while she began to scream, though not loud. His hands wandered her body as he drank, snaking around each developing curve and groping soft flesh.

She finally tried to pull away when his fingers crawled between her legs and stroked her pussy through the gusset of her panties, but his hold on her was strong and he was not willing to let go so soon. Still, she struggled against him, managing to pull her neck away from his hungry mouth. Even as his arms held onto her fragile little figure, he wanted her to somehow escape, to run screaming from him, but his body now had to have her, there was no choice.

Pushing her down to the ground, he whispered apologies to her, continuing to apologize as he held her down by the neck and pulled off her panties. He put them in his pocket, not wanting to leave them on the ground, and unzipped his pants, panic and struggling refreshing anew in her at hearing that and she kicked and writhed beneath him uselessly. Her fearful panting quickened as he pressed his cock against her, positioning himself as he stared into her crimson eyes, so filled with panic and bewilderment, and he knew that she didn’t know what was happening or going to happen, such an innocent child she was!

It wrenched his heart to see this, to know this, and he caressed her soft cheek with his coarse, slender fingers, trying to comfort the child, but only making her tremble more. He kissed her once more, lightly nipping the supple pink of her full lower lip, and quickly whispered another string of apologies before thrusting into her, his hand holding her hip as he pushed in.

She gasped, a trembling, terrified gasp, and her thin arms tried desperately to push him away, her legs jerking and kicking in pain and the same effort. Once he felt her hymen, confirmed by her agonized shriek as he pressed against the thin barrier, he hesitated, knowing for certain now that she was indeed an innocent virgin, untouched and unknowing. While this knowledge excited him, it tortured him as well, though that didn’t stop him as he covered her mouth and ripped through her virginity. Her back arched and she screamed uncontrollably, muffled by his hand, and blood began gushing as freely from her wounded pussy as her tears.

There, he had done it, he had made her bleed and cry, he had broken her happy little world, but he did not want to stop at that. He fucked her, his long, thick cock squeezed by her tight little slit of a vagina, lubricated by blood, the fluency making it easy to do it quickly. She squirmed under him, clawing at his shirt and sobbing, her long black lashes matted in tears as he raped her. He was careful not to ram his dick into her too hard or too far, the sadistic demon in him satisfied with the pain she was already experiencing, and, sadly, he knew that her agony would not lessen, no matter how gentle he tried to be with her now.

Her sweet sobs and screaming diminished, however, exhaustion setting in as shock overtook her, and he could see the generous calming chemicals of her brain taking affect, numbing her. She seemed to begin to accept what was happening, her muscles relaxing and her breathing becoming more slow and even, but she clung onto consciousness as it threatened to give way and send her into merciful obliviousness. Her eyelids drooped, but she kept her crimson stare focused and locked with his dark eyes, his gaze probing for every pain and emotion she offered to fulfill his desire for her, every part and moment of her.

Fear, pain, distress, loss, but a strange glimmering in her tears that he couldn’t identify, like it didn’t belong among this medley of suffering. Pity. She had not stopped struggling out of weakness and trauma, but out of pity for him, simply offering her body to him out of compassion. Was it because she knew the pain he himself felt for committing such a sin? Was it for his tears, his helplessness against himself? This reaction, this level of benevolence and understanding was not human. Where was her anger, her violation? When he found none, he hesitantly removed his hand from her mouth. She gasped in pain and breathlessness, but did not scream for help. Her shivering sobs and gasping breaths drowned in pain didn’t betray anything but deep loss and pain, and as her hands clung onto his coat, grasping in utter pain like a woman grasping her husband’s hand while giving birth, Max was genuinely startled.

Why was she not writhing away? This was not at all what he had expected; he was not the snarling, laughing beast and she was not the victimized fireball of fury trying desperately to escape or kill him. In a way, her submissive reaction frightened him, making him want her to resist as she had before. He rammed into her hard, certain that he injured her as she let out a loud yelp and froze in a pain so great, she couldn’t scream. Feeling such pleasure from this, he closed his eyes and indulged in her tightness, sighing as he came in her, a satisfied smile growing on his face as a symphony of absolute ecstasy swelled within him. Then, immediately afterward, much to his horror, she went limp, her eyes shutting as her head lolled to the side.

He closed his eyes, holding back tears as he gathered her tiny body in his arms, her softly sweet scent filling his nose as he breathed deeply of it. He was relieved to find her still breathing, but contemplated the possibility that that could stop soon while he looked at the bloody mess and her paling cheeks as she continued bleeding in his arms. Slowly, gently, he slid out of her, blood spilling heavier now along with his semen as it leaked out of her. The sight pleased him, though he now felt such compassion and fondness for his beautiful little victim, and he kissed her soft lips and wounded neck lovingly as he slowly stood up, cradling her in his arms. Careful to hide the streaks of blood that smeared the smooth white skin of her legs, he carried his new pet to his Mercedes and drove home.