"Is this the place?" The driver of the taxi looked up at the decrepit and dilapidated old farm house, the roof sagging dangerously low on one side, the whole structure seeming to lean into the wind that howled mournfully, as if in sympathy, across the dead land. The windows were boarded over, some covered by planks, others by what looked like black cloth. There was no life here. The only movement was the grass, which grew to knee high, moving with the wind like a living creature.

  "Yeah." I replied, staring at the house as well, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. "This is it."

  "Are you sure?" the taxi driver asked again, still staring up at the house. I couldn't blame him.

  "Yeah. this is the right place. You can leave me here." I replied, my voice soft, almost a whisper. The man nodded and I felt his eyes on me as I stepped from the cab, and made my way to the back of the cab.

  "The trunk," I gestured to it.

  "Right," he muttered and got out, and approached the back of the cab.

  Soft sounds of muffling could be heard from the trunk. He glanced at me as he popped it open, and revealed the teenage girl inside. She was bound, gagged, and naked, a piece of cloth covering her eyes. Her arms were tied behind her back, and her legs were tied together, and she lay on her side, curled up in the trunk. Her long black hair was tussled and hung over her face, and she squirmed, making soft muffled sounds through the gag, the blindfold slipping to reveal a terrified eye.

  "You're a sick boy, you know that?" The old cab driver looked from me, to the girl.

  "Yeah." I said, reaching down and taking the girl under the arm, hauling her up out of the trunk. She screamed around the gag, the sound coming out strangled and muffled, but I knew the noise would not travel far, and no one would hear.

  I raised my hand and pointed at the cab driver.

  "You've been paid, remember, not a word," I told him, and he nodded, looking disgusted and nervous.

  "What are you going to do with her?" He asked, his voice barely audible.

  "You don't need to know," I said, shaking my head. "You don't want to know, just forget about her. Pretend you never saw us. Just go."

  "Okay," the old cab driver said, swallowing. He looked at the girl, who had fallen to her knees in the dirt. She looked up at him, her big black eyes, filled with terror. He turned, his face pale, and hurried to the cab. I watched as he sped off down the long winding road that lead away from the house, the tires throwing gravel and dust.

  ---

  Three months earlier.

  "And stay down faggot!" The voice was loud and carried through the hall. There was laughter and more jeering, and then the bell rang. I laid on the ground, feeling my jaw ache, and watched the feet go past. Everyone ignored me. This was just another day in hell.

  I sat up slowly, groaning as I felt the aches and pains in my body. It had been a while since I had been beaten up this bad. Usually, I was able to talk my way out of it, or I could take the abuse. But, as I stood up, I had a hard time remembering the last time it had been so bad. I could barely stand. I took my backpack and pulled it over one shoulder. I limped down the hall, ignoring the looks. No one would help me, or even look at me. I was a freak, the school reject, the loner, the kid no one liked. And I was used to it.

  Life in high school sucked.

  I didn't know why I was so unlucky. Maybe it was because I was small, skinny, and scrawny, and no one would think twice about pushing me around. Or maybe it was the fact that I was an easy target. I had no friends, and no one to talk to, and no one wanted anything to do with me. So, I was the perfect target for bullying, and that's what my life was.

  And don't even get me started on the girls. They didn't even see me. It was like I was invisible to them. I tried and was rejected. Rejected so harshly that it hurt. The first time I tried to ask a girl out, I had my head dunked in a toilet. That was the first of many times.

  And the asshole behind the bullying? The same asshole that had put me on the floor just a few moments ago?

  His name was Sean.

  Sean was the most popular guy in school. He was captain of the football team, the quarterback, and a real star. Every girl wanted him, and every boy wanted to be him. And he was also a sadistic son of a bitch who enjoyed beating the crap out of anyone he could, and got a thrill from seeing people in pain, especially nerds like me.

  I had been his personal punching bag for most of the school year, and there was no end in sight. It wasn't like I could fight back. He was just too big, too strong. It would have been like trying to fight a brick wall.

  I limped to my locker and opened it. I dropped my bag on the floor and began to pull books out of it, stuffing them into my locker. I had just finished and slammed it closed when I saw her.

  Her name was Jennifer, and she was beautiful.

  She had long, straight, black hair, that hung to the middle of her back, and dark obsidian eyes. She was thin, almost too thin, and she always dressed in short skirts and tight shirts that showed off her figure. I had had a crush on her for most of the school year, and it had only gotten worse as the weeks went by. But she was dating Sean.

  And that made her untouchable.

  But that didn't stop me from staring, and I felt my heart beat a little faster as I watched her walk by. She had an incredible body, and I found myself drooling a bit as I stared at her ass, and the way the skirt hugged her cheeks. I couldn't help it.

  "Hey loser, are you looking at my girl's ass?" Sean's voice cut through my thoughts and I looked down the hallway, my face paling, to see Sean walking toward me, a smirk on his face. I didn't expect him to still be around the hallway after beating the shit out of me.

  "What did you say?" he said, stopping in front of me, his girlfriend standing behind him, smirking.

  "Uh...I was...I..." I stammered, my face burning, knowing that he had caught me, and knowing that was the worst possible thing I could have done. I could only imagine what was coming next.

  "What makes you think you can look at my girl's ass?" He said, grabbing me by the front of my shirt, lifting me easily off the ground.

  "I...I wasn't..." I stuttered, but was interrupted as Sean's fist collided with my face. My head snapped back and I grunted in pain, and fell to the floor. I looked up, the world spinning, and saw Sean looming over me, his hand raised.

  "And you dropped your book, faggot." He said, and pointed. I followed his finger and saw a small book on the floor. I realized it was mine.

  "Oh. Uh...thanks." I mumbled, and reached down to grab it, and was stopped when his foot landed hard on my hand. I gasped in pain, feeling his foot grind into my hand, and tried to pull it away.

  "Not so fast, faggot. You have to pay a toll." He said, and lifted his foot. I pulled my hand back, tears stinging my eyes, and cradled it against my chest. I knew what was coming next, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  "Your lunch money. Give it to me." Sean said, holding out his hand.

  "Please. I need that. I need to eat." I pleaded, and was slapped for my trouble.

  "Fuck your lunch money. Now, give it to me. Now." Sean growled, his face close to mine. I reached into my pocket, tears of shame and pain running down my face, and handed him my lunch money.

  "Good boy." Sean said, taking the money, and turning. "Now pick up your book. Go on." He pushed me, and I fell backwards.

  I grabbed the book and held it tight to my chest.

  "Freak." Sean spat. "What the fuck are you even reading? Some gay comic books?"

  "No. It's... a chess opening..." I said, holding the book out, and showing him the cover. It was a book on the Sicilian Defense, one of my favorite chess opening theories.

  "The Sicilian Defense." Sean mocked. "That's a queer name."

  "It's not queer, it's an opening in chess. A good opening." I protested and immediately regretted it. Sean's fist slammed into my stomach and I doubled over, gasping for breath.

  "The Sicilian Defense, huh, let's see you use your theories to defend against this!" Sean said, and punched me in the stomach again.

  I curled up into a ball and gasped, using the thick book to protect my head and chest.

  "Come on, faggot, defend yourself. Use your fucking Sicilian Defense." Sean shouted, and kicked me. His foot connected with my side and I rolled over, crying in pain.

  "Please, stop!" I begged.

  "Shut up, faggot. Defend yourself. Come on, use the Sicilian Defense." Sean said and laughed, kicking me again. I groaned and rolled over, trying to crawl away.

  "Please," I whimpered, crawling away, wishing the ground would swallow me whole...

  ...

  Back at the dilapidated farmhouse.

  Jennifer's muffled screams were a thing of beauty, and they sent a shiver of pleasure through me. They echoed through the large empty house, bouncing off the walls and floors, and it was a sound I would never get tired of.

  It was a sound of pure, sweet, and utter agony.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, her hands tied above her head to a wooden beam. She was completely naked, her clothes lying in tatters on the floor. The only thing she wore was the gag, a strip of cloth, which filled her mouth and prevented her from screaming properly and a dark black dog collar with the leash attached.

  I held the leash, and I tugged it, forcing her head to turn to face me. She was crying, tears streaming down her face, and snot and saliva ran down her face. Her mascara and eye liner had run, and her make up was ruined. Her black hair was tangled and messy, and hung down over her face.

  The sight of a 5'2", 100lb. 16-year-old Asian girl, bound, gagged, naked, and crying, was something that sent shivers of pleasure through me, and my cock stiffened, straining against my jeans.

  I smiled, and reached out, stroking her cheek, wiping away her tears.

  "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" I asked, pulling away her cloth gag.

  "Please..." She sobbed, her voice quiet. "Please, no more..."

  "No more?" I smiled. "Oh, Jennifer. We're only getting started.

  "No! No!" She cried, thrashing, her head shaking back and forth. I laughed, and let go of her, turning and walking across the room.

  "You're very brave, Jennifer. But, you have to understand. There is nothing you can do." I said, and picked up a knife, a long, sharp, hunting knife.

  "I can do a lot of things with this, Jennifer. A lot of very bad, very painful things." I turned to her, and smiled.

  "I could cut off your nipples, Jennifer. Or, maybe, cut out your tongue. How would you like that? Hmm?"

  "Please!" Jennifer sobbed. "No! Please!"

  "Or, I could just slice open your stomach. What do you think?" I smiled and approached her.

  "Oh, God! Oh, please!" Jennifer screamed. "Please! I'm sorry!"

  "Sorry?" I chuckled. "Why are you sorry?"

  "I'm sorry for whatever I did to you! Please! Let me go! I won't tell anyone! Please!"

  "Oh, but Jennifer, we both know that's not true." I said, and pressed the tip of the knife into her belly. She screamed and tried to back away, but there was nowhere for her to go.

  "We both know, Jennifer, that if you had the chance, the first thing you would do, is run to the police, and tell them everything, and then, you would find your boyfriend Sean and fuck him. Am I right?"

  "No! Please! No!" She screamed, sobbing, shaking her head.

  "Well, that's a shame, Jennifer, because you have no choice in the matter. You are going to be raped. You are going to be fucked, over and over and over again. And there is nothing you can do. You will be fucked, and used, and abused, and then, when I'm done with you, when I've fucked your tight little cunt, and your sweet mouth, and your tight ass, then, and only then, will I decide what to do with you."

  "Please! Please don't! I'll do anything!" She screamed, pleading, her face contorted in horror.

  "Anything? Oh, Jennifer, you shouldn't make promises you can't keep." I smiled and put the knife to her neck. "I'm going to fuck you now. You will take my cock, and you will suck it. And you will not try to fight me. Do you understand?"

  She sobbed, shaking her head, her hair flying back and forth, her whole tiny body shaking.

  ...

  Outside the abandoned farmhouse, the sun had set, and the moon was high in the sky. The night was dark and quiet, the only sound being the wind, which blew across the dead land, making a mournful sound. A couple yards away from the house, was a dirt road, a lone, single lane road that led into a cemetery. It was a small, rundown, and old graveyard, but it was still there.

  I thought about the people, the dead people, and then I thought about the people living, the ones that were still alive, the ones that were breathing, and laughing, and eating, and talking, and going about their lives, not knowing that there were monsters out there in the world.

  Monsters like me.

  I tugged at the leash, pulling on it, and the girl stumbled and fell, crying out as her knees hit the rough dirt path.

  "Crawl." I told her.

  "Please," she whispered.

  "Crawl, like the dog you are."

  "Please. Don't."

  "Crawl, bitch."

  She sobbed and got on her hands and knees, and crawled, slowly, towards the graveyard.

  "That's a good bitch." I said.

  We walked down the path into the cemetery, the moon lighting the way. The ground was hard, and dusty, and the stones and markers were crumbling and weathered. It was a sad and depressing place, and it felt morbid, and evil, but it was also a perfect place. It was quiet, and isolated, and no one ever came here.

  And it was perfect place for evil.

  "Stop." I told her, and she did. I tugged on the leash, and she turned to face me. "This should do."

  I reached down and unzipped my jeans, and freed my erection.

  "On your knees, and open your mouth."

  "Please..."

  "Open your mouth, slut."

  "Please, don't do this."

  "Open your fucking mouth, or I will shove this knife in your belly and gut you like a fish."

  She stared up at me, her big black eyes filled with fear, and opened her mouth.

  I took her chin in my hand, and forced the tip of my cock past her lips, into her mouth. Her hot, wet, tongue wrapped around the head, and her teeth scraped against the skin, and I shuddered in pleasure.

  I pulled on the leash, forcing her to lean forward, and I shoved my cock deeper into her mouth, down her throat.

  "Oh, yeah. Fuck, that feels good." I moaned, thrusting my hips, fucking her face. She gagged and choked, her face turning red.

  "Fuck. That's a good little bitch. Suck that cock." I growled, thrusting faster. I held her head, pushing her down, and forced her to take my cock deeper and deeper.

  That was my first time having a blowjob, and it was incredible. The feeling of her hot, wet mouth, sucking on my cock, and the way she gagged and choked, it was amazing. Jennifer's mouth was much better than I could have imagined, and rape was so much better than I could have ever imagined.

  "Mmm, fuck, that's a good little bitch." I moaned as I held the dog leash in one hand, and her hair in the other, and used her tiny mouth as a fuck hole. Looking down, she was a mess, tears streaming down her face, her hair matted and tangled, and her make-up a mess. She looked so helpless, so fragile, and that was what I liked about it.

  I had always wanted to fuck a pretty, innocent, girl, and now, finally, I had.

  I kept going, thrusting harder and harder, and her face turned even redder.

  "You're fucking good at this, Jennifer. Such a good little cocksucker." I told her, and I could feel myself getting close to cumming.

  I fucked her mouth, my balls slapping against her chin, and I felt my orgasm building.

  "Oh, fuck. Fuck, I'm gonna cum." I growled, and grabbed the back of her head with both hands, forcing her to take my cock as deep as possible.

  "Fuck, that's it, take it. Take it, you fucking bitch." I groaned as I shot my load into her mouth, filling it with cum.

  I pulled back, my cock sliding from her mouth, and her body spasmed as she choked and coughed.

  "Fuck, that was good." I said, and she looked up at me, her eyes wide with terror, and my cum running down her chin.

  "Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse and raspy.

  "Please, what?" I asked, smiling.

  "Please, let me go."

  "Not yet."

  I took her by the hair and lifted her, and dragged her towards a gravestone, and threw her against the heavy stone.

  "Bend over and spread your legs." I ordered, and she hesitated, staring at me with wide eyes.

  "Do it, or I will stab you, and leave you here to die like the rest of these corpses."

  "Please," she sobbed, her hands trembling.

  "Bend over and spread your legs."

  Slowly, she bent over, her small breasts brushing against the stone, her long hair falling around her face.

  "Wider."

  She obeyed, spreading her legs, and I saw her pussy, glistening with her juices.

  "Please, don't do this."

  "Quiet." I stepped behind her, and positioned my cock, pressing it against her wet cunt.

  "Please, don't do this." She said, her voice low, and pleading.

  "It's too late." I said, and shoved my cock into her cunt. She cried out, her body tensing, and I fucked her. I grabbed her hips, pulling her towards me, and she was so small, I could wrap my fingers all the way around her waist. I could feel her warm, wet, cunt, squeezing my cock, and her tight ass was pressed against my pelvis, and I moaned in pleasure.

  "Fuck. That's it. Take it, you bitch."

  She whimpered, her hands clutching at the stone as I fucked her, slamming into her hard and fast, and the sound of my hips slapping against her ass echoed through the empty cemetery, filling the night air.

  ...

  I looked around at the gravestones and markers, at the tombstones and the broken and shattered grave markers, and wondered if the spirits of the dead could hear us, if they were watching, and listening.

  The thought made me even harder.

  I fucked her, pounding her tight cunt, and she was moaning and crying, begging and pleading, and her body was shaking and shuddering.

  I didn't care.

  I fucked her, and I used her, and I didn't care.

  I didn't care about her pain.

  I didn't care about her suffering.

  I didn't care about her tears, or her pleas, or her begging.

  She was a hole, an object, a piece of meat.

  And if the spirits of the dead were watching, if they were listening, and if they were seeing, then, that was fine. Let them watch. Let them see. Let them witness true evil.

  To be continued...