Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Twin Pines	By : MichaelATownshed Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 37004 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or Twin Peaks, nor am I making any money off this story. Christ who would even pay for this?

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
AUTHOR’S NOTES: I would to thank xXDasXGoochXx, Saint_Wanker_Kris, Casey_jones, Harem-Lover-26, and Latham02 for their reviews and comments.
XXDasXGoochXx: I appreciate your kind words. Gravity Falls is such a great setting, I love it so much!
Casey_jones: Don’t worry, Mabel won’t be the only one getting the D, or Dipper the V for that matter. Also puns LOLz.
Saint_Wanker_Kris: I think it’s safe to say that nothing is what it seems in Gravity Falls. That’s what makes it so mysterious. But yes, more characters will be introduced, in one way or another. Hope you continue on your fic, we need more Gravity Falls stories!
Harem-Lover-26: Harem-Lover, something tells me you like harems lol. I’m not sure how “harem” this story will be, but I’ll see what I can think up.
Latham02: Yeah, trying to figure how that bit of character interaction would work between the two was a lot of fun. So. Much. Awkwardness.
So once more, thank you everyone and I hope you continue reading. And if you haven’t rated, please do, thank you. Regardless, hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter 3
Gravity Horror Story

Wendy dipped her fingertips into the pool of water she had filled the bathtub with. It was hot but not searing, definitely unlike how Mabel seemed to enjoy her baths. The teen had found a few scented candles in the space underneath the bathroom sink, along with a half used bottle of bubble bath liquid soap.
With most of the candles lit and placed all about the room, and the soap generously applied to the bathwater, she turned off the ceiling light with a flip of the switch, leaving the flickering flames that surrounded her as the only source of illumination in the darkened room. Lighting the last candle, she placed it on the sink right below the medicine cabinet.
Her damp, icky jeans and panties were the last clothing articles she still had on, an annoyance she was eager to rectify. As she stripped them off with a little wiggle of her hips, she looked into the cabinet mirror, taking a gander at her bust and navel but not much lower, since the mirror was too small and set too high up to allow a view of her lower parts. Not bothering to hang her undies and pants with the rest of her clothes, she opted for just tossing them aside, but not before taking out her electronic cigarette from the front pocket.
She took a long, drawn-out puff from the e-cig, savoring the taste of the cherry-flavored and nicotine infused mist that filled her mouth. Releasing it, the vapor passed from her lips in a long, billowy cloud that obscured her view of her reflection until the haze slowly dissipated into the ether. It did help with the cravings, she had to admit, and she was feeling less stressed out, though not as much as she would’ve liked. Eying the thing she held between her pointer and middle finger, Wendy let out a sigh. Damn you Tambry, you texting fiend. She took another drag.
Staring down at her chest, she knew just the thing that would rattle her longtime best friend. With an arm covering her breasts, and her eyes seductively gazing straight into the cellphone, she posed and took the selfie. ‘Somthin to punish u wit! <3’, she wrote, and sent to Tambry along with the pic. The aroma of rose petals and kittens hung heavily in the air. Kitten scented? These have to be Mabel’s candles. Giggling, the teen took another puff.
She ran her hand down the length of her belly, and then in circles around her belly button, until finally deciding to acknowledge that she wasn’t getting fat, regardless of what some loser upset that she wasn’t interested in dating him had said two weeks ago. But these breasts, these small breasts… Wendy stood up on her tippy-toes and then back down, and then did this multiple times more, making her small bosom jiggle. Cupping them, she imagined them a few sizes larger, fuller and rounder, maybe with bigger nipples too. Alas, at fifteen, she was pretty sure her body was done filling her tits out. “Would you fuck me?” she asked her mirror self while tweaking her nipples.
“I’d fuck me.”
Wendy kissed the mirror. “I’d fuck me hard.” Winking at herself before waving bye, she used the e-cig once more, and then dropped it aside her cell phone on top the sink. The candlelight flickered across her smooth, naked skin, her every move accompanied by shadow and an aura of flame.
A low moan escaped her as she submerged herself from the neck down in a hot body of bubbly water. At her home, which was a den of men and masculine boys doing insane shit 24/7, it was a rare day indeed that she could indulge herself like this. If she had to be stuck at the Mystery Shack for the night, then she was determined to have a little fun in whatever way she could. Her legs spread apart and her knees pressed on either side of the tub, she let out a sigh as she moved a single hand from her breasts down to her lower abdomen and began rubbing her pubic region. A smile spread across her face when her searching fingers found her swollen clit. All I’m missing is a dildo. Or maybe a banana.
“Oh fuck,” she growled. She flicked at her clit quickly, her body already trembling with anticipation. She was incredibly pent up, thanks in part to the madness that had happened with Mabel barely a short while ago. In truth she hadn’t masturbated in weeks, not since things had ended with Robbie, though the lack of self-stimulation really hadn’t been a problem for her, not until now anyway. Why am I so horny? The fingers of her other hand cuffed at her right boob. She fondled her aroused hot pink nipples, giving each tit a hard smack. “Mmm…”
Shutting her eyes, she conjured up the image of Robbie in her mind. Robbie Valentino, someone Wendy considered a sweet enough if sometimes overly angsty boy who ultimately ended up being just another ex in a long line of exes that only really cared about scoring with her. But, she still had her private uses for him. Licking her lips, she traced her fingers along the length of her labia’s slit.
They had never made love during their short time together; the most he ever got from her was a few decidedly passionate make-out sessions and some groping, though at one point she had come very close to giving him a blow job. Then Dipper that had to come along with a relationship-breaking revelation, for better or worse.
She shivered as she imagined Robbie undressing her, his teeth unbuttoning her plaid shirt button by button. The fantasy, the memory of his touch on her skin aroused her mind. His groping hands explored her breasts and rear, his hunger for her insatiable. She plunged a finger into her cunt at the thought of his face buried between her breasts after, halfway through unbuttoning her shirt, he tore the rest of it open. The sound of plastic buttons bouncing off a tile floor rang in her mind.
“Please no…” she whimpered. The teen boy, with those perpetually thirsty eyes, stuffed the entirety of her left tit into his mouth and suckled on its pert teat. And if she tried to push him away? Wendy started sliding her finger in and out of her pussy, her mouth wide open, a trickle of saliva freely running down her lower lip as she found herself trying to force the rapacious Robbie off her, each attempt ending in failure. Throwing off his shirt to reveal a lean but muscular body that Robbie could only ever possess in the mind of a horny teenaged girl, he pinned her to the wall against her will and drove his tongue into her mouth.
“No…” she gasped in little more than a breathy whisper. She plunged another finger deep inside her soft, warm pussy, and rubbed along her canal right where her g-spot was. In the bathtub her legs pushed her lower body upwards as she bucked her hips, better positioning herself for the wild boy to penetrate her with the full length of his penis. She sighed in frustration. Oh man, at this point I’d probably even let you do this for real.
Her breasts, covered in bubbles, sharply rose as a pang of pleasure swept through her body. Robbie, holding her by her neck and parting her legs, then plunged his member up her pussy, the entire thing; head, shaft and all up to the balls that bounced off her ass. She had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist and ride his dick. The back and forth of her fingers inside her cunt mimicked the hard, angry thrusts of his rock hard manhood taking her.
She imagined him calling her a whore, a slut, cumdumpster, grunting every obscenity his angst-riddled, or rather, her horny mind could come up with. The pleasure arose inside her like a series of waves, the heat of her building climax growing each time her fingers entered and explored the depths of her sex. Her other hand darted toward her clit, and with eyes shut tight she fiercely flicked her little sex nub. Her left canines pressed down so hard against her lower lip that she swore she might actually draw blood.
The intense spike in pleasure was like a tidal wave surging through every nerve in her body. She came, and came unexpectedly hard. The teen kicked her feet out of the tub, randomly knocking over a couple candles. Wendy didn’t care, not about the candles or about who might hear her, letting out a loud guttural yell as her body twitched and jerked about. Her mind going blank, Robbie disappeared from her consciousness. The only thing occupying her mind now was the ecstasy that flowed through her like the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Lying there helpless in her twitchy state, her fingers nevertheless kept stroking her quivering, pulsing inner walls. After a while the pleasure eased enough for her to regain control of herself. She wiped the tears away.
“That was, really good.”
Her fingers tenderly brushed at her pubic hair as she listened to the sound of heavy rainfall and basked in the dim glow of candlelight. What she would give for a cigarette, a real one, right then and there. She was too drained, or maybe just too lazy, to get up and reach for the electronic substitute.
Instead she rubbed at her mons pubis with her palm, with her fingers along the sides of her labia, not quite touching the slit. She just barely brushed at her clit. Yes, let’s get something really good going here. But Robbie would have to sit out the next orgasm. Her mind got bored of Robbie, and she rarely lingered on old flames. She ran through her index of ex-boyfriends, giving each one of them hard abs to go along with the enhancements to their extremities. Despite how many boys she had dated she still had to rely heavily on fantasy, romance novels, and whatever pornos she saw to picture what they’d be doing to her: not a single one of her exes had ever made love to her. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be embarrassed or proud of that.
So… Rus, Eli, Stoney, Mike, Nate, Danny… which one of you wants me next? She snickered at the idea of asking any of them that for real. She stopped teasing her sensitive sex organ and instead played with it much more vigorously, the tingling sensation that lingered in her tits and genitalia from her massive orgasm slowly growing more pronounced. She swayed her hips back and forth, causing the water and bubbles to crest and trough around her. It got in her eyes, though luckily the bubble bath solution didn’t sting.
I don’t think I ever called you back about that break-up Mark… man you must be so pissed. Pissed enough for a little hate fuck? She smirked as she pinched her ass. Leaving her clit alone for just a moment, she turned over and moved her shoulders onto the rim of the tub to support herself as she pointed her ass upwards for her phantom ex to mount her from behind. Wendy rubbed her wet ass cheeks, giving each cheek a good hard smack. “Yeah you are. You wanna hate fuck my ass alll night.” Using a single finger to tease her puckered butthole, and pushing that finger halfway into her rear end, she then resumed her furious stimulation of her clitoris. The audible schlick schlick schlick of wet pussy being finger-fucked reverberated in the air.
Only it wasn’t quite clicking for her. Maybe if you made loved to me? She had him lay her down on a bed of red roses and passionately kiss her while he vaginally penetrated her gently and romantically. She slowed her masturbating. Nothing, damn it. Imaginary Mark was just as boring and unremarkable as real Mark, after all there was a reason she kept forgetting to text him about that break-up. Maybe I’ll tell him when we’re back in school?
While her mind ran through the exes again, she pulled her finger out of her ass and began sucking on it. Wendy seriously considered stuffing a couple of tooth brushes up her backside, preferably Mabel and Dipper’s. Or maybe just the handle of Mabel’s Disney Princess-themed hair brush. Even as a self-conscious teenager well-aware and wary of pre-packaged products sold to the masses by soulless megacorporations, she had still enjoyed Tangled as a kid, so she wouldn’t mind having Rapunzel’s face all the way up her colon. Mabel’s hairbrush or Dipper’s tooth brush? Dipper or Mabel?
A spark ran through her like electricity. She pumped her finger back into her rectum at the thought of Mabel behind her, giving her a rim job, pulling on her hair or spanking her ass while ploughing a strap-on up her butthole. Dipper would be there too of course, the two were practically a set, and she would pleasure him with some nice, wet deepthroating. “Oww fuck,” she mewled, forcing another finger up her tight, clenching bum despite the pain. She curled her fingers into the curvature of her rectum, forcing them deeper in while she punished her clit with a harsh, cruel pinch.
The little flames danced in the dark. Dipper…
Wendy came again, her convulsing legs collapsing under her. She knelt and rode the waves of ecstasy that broke within her so intensely that it actually hurt. Her joints definitely ached, that was for sure. More tears streamed down her face, these she didn’t bother to wipe away. “Would you ravish me Dipper?” she whispered, licking her fingers before pulling back her red, wet hair away from her eyes. “You’d be so down for it,” she said with a giggle.
The implications of her sexual musings suddenly made her stomach churn. Why am I all pedo-crazy all of the sudden? Molesting children had never been her thing, at least she wanted to believe that was true. Dipper had developed a crush with her early on during the summer, and though he had proven to be a chill dude when he wasn’t breaking up her relationships, she had let him know that she couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. She was confident in the fact that she didn’t fuck little boys. Or little girls. Except, an hour ago I tried to bang Mabel…
Her fingers hadn’t yet been removed from her bum. Regardless of her misgivings, she didn’t consider her fun over yet, and ultimately it was just fantasy, the mind games a young woman starved for a modicum of intimacy. And it’s not like she wasn’t coming on to me anyway. “I just… ungh!”
That Tangled hairbrush looked more and more enticing by the minute. Ok, Hairbrush in my vagina, toothbrushes up my ass. Wendy chuckled, imagining Mabel with little kitty ears. “Trust me pet, pedo knows best!”
There was a knock at the door. “Wendy, you still in there?”
Immediately she plopped her fingers out of her ass and covered her privates. “Yeah Stan, I’m just taking a bath.” Crap the door’s not locked.
“Well,” he said, speaking through the door, “normally I’d go on a rampage over an employee burning so much money on an expensive utility like hot water...”
The teen rolled her eyes. “Yeah you would, you cheap jew,” she muttered. Stan didn’t seem to hear her. Slowly she reached out for the nearest candle.
“But what the heck,” Stan continued, “I’m gonna say you earned it. I just wanted to… thank you, for helping me out during this very awkward time.”
Wendy held the rose-scented candle in her hand. She got a good whiff of its scent. "So let me get this straight, Mr. Mystery Stan Pines is actually thanking me instead of barking orders? Is now a good time to ask for a raise?”
“Hey, don’t push it kid. I swear, you give them an inch and before you know it they double-cross you and bury you neck deep in the desert to leave you for the scorpions. Frickin’ Colombians.”
“Okay…” Accidently turning the candle, its clear wax dripped across her breasts. “Fuck!” she yelped out as it burned her flesh.
“What?”
“No, nothing,” she said, a widening, wicked grin crossing her lips. “It’s just very hot. In here.” She looked down at her chest, writhing in her own skin as the wax dried and cooled, turning a creamy shade of white. It reminded her of a cumshot across her tits. She stood up in the tub. “Maybe you should come in and clean me all up,” she verbalized softly.
“What was that last part?”
“Just that I’m cleaning myself up,” she spoke loudly. “You were saying?”
“Look, I’m just glad I can count on you, I know it’s not part of your job to help me out with the kids, so I just appreciate what you did tonight, especially on such short notice. All this period stuff isn’t my forte.”
“Is fucking teenagers your forte?”
There was a thump at the door, as if Stan was placing his ear against it. “What? Speak up kiddo my hearing ain’t what it used to be.”
Kiddo? I’ll show you kiddo. Wendy stepped out of tub and walked toward the door, her body glistening with moisture. Running a finger in a circle on the door, she then traced that finger toward the knob. Her lubricant leaked from her loins. “I said helping teenagers is my forte. Among other things.” Her eyes narrowed. Cum in here and get me.
“Yeah well, I’ll take your word for it?”
Open the door. Silently she pressed herself against the door’s frame, her heart racing at the thought of him touching her vulnerable body. Fuck me…
“By the way,” he said, “did you happen to get some… T-A-M-P-O-N-S for Mabel?”
Wendy stopped shy of turning the door knob. “I was supposed to do that?”
“You think I’m fit for that sort of shopping? I’d just end up buying diapers with the little ducks on them, it’s not like Mabel would know the difference anyway. I sure don’t.”
Wendy banged her head against the door. “I’m sure your great niece would really appreciate you comparing menstruation to babies pooping. Real sensitive there boss.”
“Again with the sensitivity shtick, I already got a sensitivity lecture from Mabel’s parents, I don’t need one from you too. I mean, come on, I torch her cloths in the fireplace and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Give me a break here!”
“Mr. Pines,” she said, rolling the candle wax off her breasts, “just buy the first box you see that says ‘tampon’. Or we could get some tomorrow, it’s still a nightmare outside.”
Stan poked at the door. “No, tomorrow you’re supposed to be working, and no one said anything about ditching work for a sabbatical. Hold the fort while I head over to the pharmacy, buy the first thing that says ‘tampon’. Just don’t get mad at me if I end up getting cotton balls or something.”
Cotton balls? “Anything you say boss.” She listened to the fading creaking of his footsteps on the old wooden floor. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you…” The teenager gave the door a big, sloppy kiss. “At this rate I’m gonna end up fucking this entire family.” At some point, she promised, she would take a deep, long, hard look at herself and figure out what these bizarre sexual kinks were all about. Or maybe she just seriously needed to get laid. Walking by her phone, she noticed it flash, its ringtone and vibrate functions shut off to avoid unwanted interruptions, and checking it, she found 16 new text messages and 5 missed calls. Wendy smiled. Well, that pic really lit your fire.
In the meantime she was still horny, and masturbating furiously in the bathtub was still a very enticing idea to her. She rubbed her juicy cunt, tapping at her clit with lube-coated fingers as she fantasized about an insane multigenerational Pine-themed gangbang, then hungrily lapped the heavy coating of lubricant clean off her fingers. She recalled Mabel’s precocious enjoyment of their short moment together. I wonder if she liked the taste.
* * *
The black dress hugged close but comfortably to Wendy’s body. The black, wide brimmed hat was a little random, but she kept it on anyway. Man I look so pimp in this. In her hand was a white rose, and in the other, a lit cigarette on a cigarette holder. Audrey Hepburn, eat your heart out. She sat on a typical bar stool, next to what looked like a typical bar counter, with a big wide mirror opposite her and the counter. There was only one other person there, sitting on the stool besides her. The rest of the room was shrouded in black.
“What’s your poison?” Wendy asked Waddles the pig. She inhaled the cigarette’s smoke; it was like a little piece of Heaven.
“A cup of strong black coffee,” said Waddles.
“Ok Waddles,” she said, “that’s an interesting choice. Now for myself I think I’ll go for a… you know what I’ve always wanted to try? A Sex on the Beach.” Cautiously she slipped the rose into her hair, by her temple, careful to avoid the thorns along the stem. Successful in her efforts, and feeling all the more gorgeous, she proceeded to pound her fist on the counter. “Barkeep, I’ll take a Sex on the Beach!”
“Jacques please,” said Waddles, raising his little hoof, “for the young lady, make that a Virgin Sex on the Beach.”
Wendy scoffed. She hadn’t considered that Waddles might know the bartender. “Dude, not cool. Are you like a cop or something? Cause you gotta tell me if you are, that’s the rule.”
“That’s not a rule I’m aware of,” the pig said, “but do know my concern for you transcends any law enforcement regulations or procedures. That much you can count on, if nothing else.”
Wendy took a long puff from the cigarette holder. She wondered how long it had been since she last had a proper cancer stick. Too long. “I don’t think I’m into the whole ‘knight in shining armor’ thing. Still, you win, for now. Barkeep, ex-nay on the order. I’ll just take a Pitt Cola, hold the pit.”
A cup of freshly brewed coffee slid down the wooden counter, stopping at Waddle’s hoof. The pig took a couple sniffs at it, scrunched up his snout, and turned away. Pouring the cup sideways a little, he revealed that the coffee had a consistency much closer to sludge or oil than anything drinkable. A tinge of sadness marked his eyes, but only for a second.
“Damn,” he said, sighing, “they really don’t know how to make coffee around here. Now, there’s this one place I know, really wonderful town out in the sticks, they have the most gorgeous Douglass firs I have ever seen. That fresh smell of pine needles in the morning, unbelievable. And the coffee, oh the coffee. ”
“Damn fine coffee?” she asked.
The pig smiled. “Exactly.”
Savoring one last puff, she put out the cigarette on an ashtray and put the cigarette holder down. “I always liked you Waddles, you know that? You and me, we are simpatico.” Something strange and unexpected caught her attention, distracting her from her conversation. “Huh, look at that.” Gazing ahead at the mirror, she noticed that the rose in her hair had turned blue. Plucking one of its pedals, she held it in her palm and inspected it closely, confirming that it was definitely a shade of blue. “That’s so weird.”
“I am at a loss for words,” said Waddles, with a look of genuine perplexity.
“And so am I.”A glass of Pitt Cola slid down the counter. Wendy, spotting it from the corner of her eye, stopped its momentum with her fingertips, though she quickly wished she hadn’t. The drink was flat, lifeless, and considering what they gave Waddles, potentially lethal. Maybe I should’ve kept the pit after all. She pushed it away. “This place is officially ass.”
“Wendy, we are in full agreement.”
Giggling, Wendy stroked her neck. “Simpatico.”
“You know, I also find Gravity Falls to be quite the remarkable place. The serenity of these small towns, it is something truly to behold.”
The teen scoffed at his comment. “Dude, really? Cause to me they seem more like something truly to snore at. And I would know, I’ve lived in Hicksville, USA my whole life.”
Waddles looked into the mirror ahead, at his piggy reflection. “There is a darker side.”
This peaked the girl's interest. “Oh?”
“These towns always have their little secrets. Sometimes they’re benign, like a diner that serves the best slice of cherry pie you’ll ever have, but other times they’re much more sinister, like some lost knowledge hidden deep within the sycamore groves or pines, or even right under your feet.”
Wendy looked down at her shiny high heel shoes, tapping the heels together. “Nope, nothing under these very nice stilettos, but I guess I see your point. So, lay down some knowledge Mr. Pig from Another Place. Tell me some of your secrets, and if I like them, maybe I’ll tell you some of mine.”
The pig nodded. “Well, out of curiosity, what do you know about Native American folklore? For example, have you ever heard of a place called, the Black Lodge?”
Wendy’s eye twitched. “The Black Lodge? The Black Lodge,” she stifled the urge to giggle, “excuse me, um… the Black… Lodge…” She covered her mouth as she chuckled. “Wow, what was in that cigarette?” Slapping her fist at the counter over and over, the girl broke down in a fit of hysterical laughter. “The Black Lodge, the Black Lodge, the Black Lodge!”
“Wendy?”
“Whhoo!” she cried, hopping off her stool, almost tripping as it toppled over. Wendy felt as light as a feather, and her mind like a cloud in the sky. Who cared about lodges when she could see all of the night sky? “Check it, I’m a bird of prey! Watch out deer mice, because I’m gonna catch you in my claws, eat you, and regurgitate you as a gross fur ball! Hoot hoot!”
“Wendy,” the pig said calmly, “your mind has been clouded by an essence far more powerful than any Earthly-”
“Hoot! Hooooooot!” she cried. Running in circles, she almost fell several times because of her stiletto heels.
The pig jumped off his stool and landed on the counter, knocking over his cup. Eyeing the wild girl, he sat down and closed his eyes. “I apologize in advance, and I mean that, I am truly sorry, but this will surely hurt.”
Wendy was completely unprepared for what came next.
WENDY!!!
“OH MY GOD!” she screamed, dropping immediately to her knees. Waddles’ voice was like an all-encompassing, explosive roar that was aimed straight at her brain from all sides, including from the inside out. Covering both her ears, she tried to drown out the booming, throbbing hum and that irritating ringing sound. “Too loud, wayyy too loud!”
Listen to my voice, Waddles said in a whisper, his mouth and snout unmoving, can you see the glowing circle?
She shook her head from side to side as she wiped her tears away. “I see blinding pain you fucking sow, so could you just chill for one second?”
Wendy was relieved when Waddles’ psychic voice didn’t answer. “Just need a second, just have to… what were we talked about?” Her whole mind was foggy, like a cloud up above. She heard the thunder, saw the lightning strike. “Black something? I…”
In the distance the sound of a saxophone began playing. Where it came from and who the musician was she wasn’t sure, partly because her vision had blurred from the mental siege the pig had wrought upon her, and partly because she didn’t actually care to look. Still, the music was transfixing, elating; her head cocked in its direction.
I hear it too, Waddles whispered, are you ready?
“Ok,” she said. His voice cut through the song like an axe through butter. Through the pervasive headache that had eased but wouldn’t quite go away, she focused only on the voice. “Lay it on me.”
What do you see?
“Trees.” She looked down at the crumbled up rose petal in her palm, and balled up her shaking fist as she forced herself to continue. “I was heading to school last year. I got screwed over by some bad grades, so I ended up having to take summer classes, it sucked. This sucks.”
And then what happened?
“I was walking down the road, and she was just, crying. I didn’t know how to help her.” Opening up her hand, the rose petal had become something else entirely. “I found this.” In her palm was a ring with a gold band holding a round, blue gemstone. Etched on the stone was an insignia Wendy didn’t recognize.
Waddles’ eyes opened wide. “This is very important. Who has the ring now?”
Wendy let out a sigh of relief as the pain lifted instantly, like her head had been released from skull-crushing vice. She tilted her head in confusion. “The ring? This ring? It’s right here.” She shut her hand again, and opening it up once more, the ring was gone. “Huh. I guess not.”
The pig was undeterred. “I have a message: there are three entities, and they are all hiding. One will be made known to you very soon, another your friends already know but whose name you will not learn. The last one eludes me. I need you to help me find him.”
Nodding, the teen, teetering on her stilettos, managed to get back on her feet. “I’m sorry for calling you a sow, but what you did hurt like a bitch. By the way, I told you a secret, so now you have to tell me one.”
Waddles thought of what to say. “I like to stand on my head in the morning. I find it helps to concentrate the mind on the day’s many endeavors. I even know of a young girl who enjoys doing the same, though I suspect her motivations for doing so differ from my own.”
“Boo, that’s lame,” she exclaimed. The music was seductive, and without the pig’s strange psychic connection restraining her, the desire to dance to its tune only grew. “I have to go. But next time we meet, you gotta tell me a real secret.”
“One last thing,” he said, “Wendy, believe in love. It’s the only thing more important than any thousand secrets.”
The lamps, previously concealed by the darkness, turned on, revealing the room with its red curtains, old sofa chairs, and a zig-zig patterned white and black floor. The pig was swallowed up and dissolved instantly by the light, and so was the bar. It was something Wendy didn’t notice, couldn’t even register.
The music blared to life. She turned around, snapping her fingers in rhythm to the other girls, Mabel and Pacifica, who together with herself, stood around Dipper in a circle. Pacifica wore a fine sleeveless red gown with matching satin gloves, while Mabel, well, wore a white sweater with a white skirt. Wendy was confident she was the best looking and best dressed girl there. Natural redheads beat fake blondes anytime.
The girls danced around the boy, and Wendy, running a hand down her body, ached for his touch, to be with him with and him with her. The boy, though he had given her a few suggestive looks, was preoccupied by the presence of a fiery triangle creature. She didn’t care about what it was saying or what it actually was, it was only the dance that mattered to her. I want him out of that suit. I want him now.
The triangle, rising up into the air, its voice distorted by the warping of the air itself, disappeared in a flash of light. And so did Dipper.
“Awww!” both Wendy and Pacifica cried out in unison.
Pacifica took off one of her satin gloves and threw it on the floor. “And I was just about to make a move on him too. Stupid, convoluted dream.”
Dream? Is this what this is? “You’re Pacifica… Northwest, right?”
“Yep, that’s my name don’t wear it out, or I’ll make you buy a new one. Not that you could afford to. Though my parents are pretty much the worst type of blue-blooded jerks alive, so at this point I’d rather be associated with some hick family of lumberjacks than with my actual kin.”
Wendy rolled her eyes, sneering. “You sure your parents aren’t the only blue-blooded jerks in your family?”
The little blonde girl was more interested in her finely manicured nails than with Wendy. She barely acknowledged the older girl’s comment. “Oh? Was I being unnecessarily mean to the lower classes again? Sorry, I mostly didn’t mean that, old habits die hard you know?”
“I guess.” Shrugging, Wendy looked around the room. The music had stopped, but she noticed something else loud and whimsical had also gone missing. “Where’s Mabel?”
“Hold on,” said Pacifica, raising her hand, “do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Seriously? It sounds like a bell, coming from over… there!” Pacifica pointed to a corner of the room where, to her surprise, she saw a marble statue sculpted in her own image. The girl, walking closer to it as Wendy stayed put, gazed at its white facade, awed by its mere existence. Behind the statue she noticed an opening between the curtains, and without uttering a single word, she walked right through.
“Wait, hold on!” said Wendy. The teen, stepping forward, tripped and took a tumble as one of the stiletto heels broke off. “Ummph! These stupid shoes, so impractical, but I’ll be damned if they don’t make me feel so tall and sexy.” Taking the shoes off and leaving them behind, she followed the other girl through the red curtains. Beyond the opening was a corridor surrounded by even more curtains, the teen pausing in bafflement. It didn’t help that Pacifica had proved either much quicker or more impatient than Wendy could handle; the younger girl was nowhere to be found. At the far end of the corridor the curtains suddenly swayed, if just slightly. “Pacifica?”
Wendy ran down the red hallway, and going through another wall of curtains, she was shocked to find herself in the same room as before, right down to the discarded stilettoes by the statue. Befuddled, she backed away, accidently slipping into yet another room. Turning around, she realized that once more it was the same room as before, only this time Mabel was there, standing far too close for Wendy’s comfort.
“?acificaP s’erehW” taunted Mabel. The little girl in white stared at Wendy with unblinking, pupil-less eyes.
Wendy wrinkled her forehead. “What the-”
“!esirpruS” she yelled, blowing confetti and glitter directly at Wendy’s face.
“Oh fuck!” Pawing at her face, she futilely tried brushing the glitter away. It only really made things a lot worse, with the sparkly stuff migrating everywhere including into her mouth and hair. “It’s in my eyes! Oww, ahh this stings, why would anyone do this?!”
“.seiradnuob on swonk feihcsim ym, ah aH” The girl ran off, throwing more glitter in the air.
“Hey, you little- hey!” Another person stepped in front of her before she could give chase. Even with an eyeful of glitter making her blink madly she could still make out the other person. The hard part was believing what she was seeing.
It was herself, Wendy Corduroy, wearing her usual clothing attire of blue jeans, hat, green button-up shirt, etc. It was the eyes that were different; the other Wendy’s eyes were white as pearl and pupil-less. The doppelganger held something, a flat object covered in plastic wrap. “.uoy rof si sihT”, she said, extending her hand out.
A nagging feeling told Wendy not to accept it, but she wasn’t in control, if she ever had been in the first place. She felt disembodied, like as if she wasn’t there but still somehow was. Unable to affect the course of events, she watched herself accept the item. Unwrapping the plastic she uncovered a white mask, plain and featureless, made of what felt like plaster of Paris. It didn’t even have eye holes.
The lamps turned off, their luminance replaced by flashing lights coming from every direction. The strobe lighting made every movement disjointed and abrupt, adding to the difficulty she had just keeping her eyes open. The other Wendy took a step forward as Wendy stepped back, the copy mimicking her every move. But the copy was slightly quicker, more sure footed, and much more eager. The boots added a couple inches to her height.
The doppelganger reached around and grabbed Wendy’s shoulder, and leaning in, bumped her loin at hers. Wendy felt lost, slipping into a mindset of both lust and fear.
“.lrig yxes ,kcuf s’teL”
Their lips pressed together. Even with the glitter in her mouth the kiss felt good, exceptionally good. Their bosoms pressed together, Wendy swooned as her tongue caressed the others’. The other Wendy pulled aside the v-line of Wendy’s dress, exposing one of her breasts, tenderly kneading it with her fingertips as they both swapped and swallowed saliva. Wendy groped the doppelganger’s rear, slipping a hand under her pants and undergarment. The copy’s bottom felt just like hers; soft, warm and round. When their kiss ended Wendy felt drunk with pleasure, and absolutely disoriented. She quickly backed away and covered her tit.
The doppelganger pouted, sticking out her glitter studded tongue. The pouting turned into a sly smirk. “.ti oD”
Wendy frantically shook her head. “No.”
The other Wendy took several steps backwards as Wendy did. “.ti oD”
They kept eye contact till Wendy, unaware of what was behind her, fell backwards onto a sofa couch. A Cheshire grin crept across the doppelganger’s face with each passing flash of the blinking lights. Then she slowly raised her hands to her face. Wendy, inexplicably compelled to copy the gesture, and with tears rolling down her cheeks, placed the mask on her face.
* * *
It was the creaking sound somewhere in the room that awoke her. Wendy was still in the tub, and looking out the small window above her, she could tell it was still dark, though at some point the rain had stopped falling and the thunder had ceased. Her eyes scanned the room. The door was still shut, and all the candles were out except for one flickering across the room. Everything else was pitch black. “Hello?”
There didn’t seem to be anything out of place, nothing she could spot at least. After a while of waiting for something to murder her she sighed and chastised herself for freaking out over nothing. Wendy glanced down at her wrinkly fingers, though at this point they were more like peach-colored prunes. Stan had set up a make-shift bed in the break room, and now seemed like the right time to get some rest on something at least almost resembling a mattress.
Brushing her hair back, she felt something sharp puncture her finger. “Ow!” she cried. Calmly and carefully, and fighting the urge to panic, she untangled whatever it was that had gotten caught in her hair. Freeing the thing, which at the very least didn’t feel like an animal, she eyed it in amazement. Even under the dim glow of a distant candle she could make out a rose, a pink rose on a long, thorny stem. One of the thorns had cut her, causing a single trail of blood to drip down her finger. Licking up the blood and suckling the wound, she worriedly stared at the flower she couldn’t account for. Wait a minute…
A dark figure passed by the candle. “Who’s there?!” asked a startled Wendy. Initially crossing her arms and pushing her back against the tub, she then lunged forward for her jeans. The candle went out.
The attacker grabbed her by the forearm, just under her right wrist. Vice-like and crushing, the grip was agony to her skin; it felt like her forearm might snap in two. The figure, bathed in darkness, blocked a punch aimed at the head and landed a blow to her stomach. The teen girl, with the wind knocked out of her and gasping for air, dropped to her knees. Though she wasn’t quite sure of the assailant’s gender, she assumed male and tried to retaliate with a fist to his testicles. The attacker shuffled backwards just enough to avoid the hit to the groin and countered with a hard kick to her left kidney. A burst of stars obscured her vision, her whole body becoming a world of agony. The teen tried to scream as loudly as her lungs and voice box would allow, but only a hollow, silent groan escaped her mouth.
In utter fear she lashed out at the stranger, her fist and legs striking out at darkness, occasionally coming in contact with random fabric or whatever else was around her. But it was all for naught; despite how small the bathroom actually was, her attacker continued to elude her every punch and kick. She tried to stand up only for him to grab her by her hair and yank hard enough to force her bare, wet form down on her hand and knees. Another kick to her side struck her so hard she thought she would puke. All the while he held onto her wrist with a grip so tight that it numbed her hand. Forcing her arm behind her back and pressing her face down against the cold tile floor, the assailant planted himself down on her rear. The hard thing prodding her behind confirmed the stranger’s gender to Wendy.
“Stop it, stop!” she hoarsely cried out. “I will fucking kill you. You sick fuck, I’ll murder you!”
In a family where she was the only daughter of the manliest man in town, possibly the manliest man in the world, and where she was the only sister to a group of brothers that tried their best to live up to that manly legacy, she was not unaccustomed to displays of strength or displaying strength in return. Wrestling her brothers into submission, arm-wrestling, lumberjack competitions, tree climbing, even occasionally beating the crap out of a far too aggressive guy looking to cop a feel, she could hold her own against most boys.
This man was brutally strong. Regardless of how hard she hit him with her free arm he barely reacted at all. From the corner of her eye she could only make out the length of his wide shoulders, accentuated by what was likely a suit jacket or blazer. He wore gloves, and when he finally grabbed onto her other arm, those gloved hands squeezed her arms together behind her, tightly at the wrists. Holding both her wrists with one hand, he fiddled with what sounded like a belt buckle.
“No, no, don’t,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. His weight held down her squirming legs; she couldn’t kick hard enough to get out from under him. “Get off me, get off!” He pulled her hair hard, jolting her head backwards, and then smacked her across her face, stunning her into silence except for the hushed sobs that accompanied her tears. Her lip stung. The taste of blood began seeping into her mouth. “Come on please don’t do this,” she mewled, “please no- don’t, I have AIDS, I do, I have it, AIDS. You don’t want to do th-” Either not believing her attempt at deception or simply not caring, he stuffed something into her mouth and finished removing his belt. By the feel of the fabric on her tongue she realized he had gagged her with her own panties. Her tank top, having dropped to the floor during the struggle, he took and tied around her mouth.
Ignoring her muffled pleas, he used the belt to tie her wrists securely behind her. The stranger then turned her around, face up and on her back. The room was so dark that she couldn’t make out his face, not a single feature, not even when so close to him as to feel his hot, panting breaths on her cheeks. All she could discern was his outline, a silhouette bleeding into black.
Through her own panting breaths Wendy could still make out the sound of the would-be rapist removing his gloves. Shutting her eyes, she whimpered when his hands seized her breasts. First he massaged her supple mounds softly, his fingers caressing and feeling the texture of her areolas with some care, and in a bizarre way, even sensually.
He then carelessly squeezed her teats till the pain caused goosebumps to form all over her body. She tried protesting against his cruel treatment, but it came out a mess of muffled words and sobbing. The molester was capricious, quickly losing interest in her breasts in favor of her lower sexual organs.
Curling her pubic hair in his fingers, the stranger explored her lightly-trimmed but well-groomed, moderately thick bush. He ran his hand across her loins, rubbing at her clitoris and the outer folds of her labia. His other hand caressed the area around her loins, her inner thighs and stomach. Probing her clit, he pulled back its little hood and gently poked it. Then, with one hand spreading the lips of her labia open, Wendy felt his fingers pressing against the entrance of her sex.
She grunted as that warm finger penetrated her. An ice-cold chill went up her spine, her skin grew so cool and clammy, and she hadn’t realized how much she was sweating until now. She looked into the black nothingness that was the stranger’s silhouette as he molested her. A muffled squeal left her as he forced another finger into her snatch. They slid down the length of her canal, slithering inside her, the invading digits prodding and gyrating in her however he wished them to.
The rapist went down on her bust. A long, soft, wet thing touched her right breast’s nipple. It was his tongue, swirling around her nub, licking at its still hurt tip till his lips kissed her teat. Suckling at her tit hungrily and roughly, he nibbled at her sensitive flesh as he switched between her two nips.
A new sort of agony made her howl into the cloth jammed in her mouth. He bit her tit, and bit it hard, his teeth clamping down across her areola, his molars gnawing at her nub till it was raw. He eventually stopped, only to bite her lower along that tit. Kisses and laps of his tongue were followed by more ravenous, painful bites she was sure would leave deep marks and bruises. Tremors afflicted her legs, her toes curled and uncurled, her fingers dug deep into her palms.
Wendy’s vagina hurt so badly, especially when, not content violating her with two fingers, the stranger forced another one through her already stretched lips, forcing himself as deep down her inner length as he could. They curled and uncurled inside her, sliding in and out in sync to his penis grinding across her thighs. But the girl could barely perceive it. It was like a hallucination, some horrible nightmare brought on by watching one too many old crappy sexploitation films that included some variation of “woman gets raped, woman seeks revenge, rapists die.” But her body was too weak to fight back, her mind too clouded and dazed, and her stomach felt contracted and hollowed out. The tears kept streaming down her cheeks, the beads of sweat kept trickling down her brow.
Something leaked down Wendy’s vagina. She hoped it was blood; the idea of her sex actually producing lube for this monster embarrassed her horribly. The rapist pulled his fingers out of her and gave her labia’s lips a hard smack that jolted Wendy back to reality. Nibbling on her neck, he took hold of Wendy’s legs and spread them apart. Not realizing she had been holding her breath or for how long, the girl let out a muffled wail as she renewed her futile struggle against him with whatever energy she had left. With one hand he spread her lips open again, and with the other he guided the tip of his cock to her warm entrance. He tapped himself against her opening, his cock growing as it rubbed against her slit.
Untying the drool soaked top that served as a gag, the rapist also pulled Wendy’s panties out of her mouth. “Please,” Wendy meekly said, coughing and gasping, “please I- no-no-no you don’t have to do thi-”
Her begging was silenced by the simultaneous thrust of his tongue into her mouth and his raging hard-on into her pussy. She squealed in pain as his high pitched moans of pleasure reverberated in her throat. His cock was big, bigger than any fruit, toy or most any other thing she had ever put inside herself, vaginally or anally. Worst of all he rammed it hard and deeply into her, not bothering to ease his long shaft through her sex. Wendy sobbed as he kept kissing her, her legs kicking wildly and ineffectually as the man pounded his cock in and out of her at a furious pace not fit for a teen girl with a tight cunt and a lack of experience.
The belt he had used to bind her wrists together held tight, the leather cutting into her skin as she fought to remove it. She heard just as much as she felt the hard slaps of his thighs against hers, her body bouncing each time his hard thrusts slammed into her pelvis. Her breasts swaying back and forth against his chest, the girl noticed that he hadn’t bothered to remove his jacket or his pants. Even his tongue freely enjoyed her, whirling about her mouth and twirling around her tongue as their lips remained locked in a warped embrace.
Their kiss ended, his tongue untangling from hers, but the man, still hungry for her lips, gave them a long, parting lick starting from her chin up to the tip of her nose. It made her cringe, and just as she was about to scream he covered her mouth over with his hand. The rapist ran the length of his tongue across her tear and salt-stained cheek, relishing her taste, and then kissed that cheek with little pecks she feared would become more vicious gnashing. They didn’t, not on her face anyway, though she flinched with each touch of his lips on her body.
He slowed his grinding just to savor those kisses. Roughly turning her head the other way, he lapped away at her other cheek, her face now slathered with his drying saliva. Her stomach turned, especially when he buried his nose into her hair and inhaled her scent. No, no, you can’t do this to me, you can’t!
The man’s thumb had slipped into his mouth, as if he was expecting her to suck on it. Instead she chomped down on his finger. He yelped, and she growled back at him, biting down hard enough to draw blood.
Taking her by the throat and squeezing, he tried throttling the life out of her till, with her bite loosening, he managed to pull his digit free. Though the man had stopped pumping upon being bitten, Wendy could still feel his hot, rock hard cock throbbing inside her, oozing pre-cum into her womanhood. Immediately he curved his back and pivoted his pelvis hard at her, resuming his swift, hard thrusts, his cock spilling pent up fluids into her sore cunt. This is it, an asphyxiated Wendy thought, I’m going to die. But as she contemplated her death, he relaxed his grip on her throat just enough to allow her air.
Just as Wendy inhaled deeply, he slapped her across the face, and then slapped her again in the opposite direction. He smacked her repeatedly, those sharp, stinging blows striking her again and again even as he kept fucking her, his punishment as unrelenting as his desire to ruin her.
“OK!” she yelled, trembling and wheezing for air, her face reddened with the mark of his palm prints. “OK, Ok, please s-s-stop. I give in, just stop hurting me! I don’t wanna die! Pl- please, just don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. Pl- plea- pl-pl-ease.” She had never felt so pathetic and terrified in her whole life.
She surrendered to him, and with her legs no longer fighting him, he used his thighs to open Wendy’s legs spread-eagle. Her stomach lurched anew when she felt the entire length of his cock slide into her sex, from the very tip of his swollen head to the base of his thick shaft. She felt his touch on her face. Wendy flinched, closing her eyes tight, expecting another slap. Instead it was simply his lips, gently pecking at her neck and chin. Wincing at the fresh kisses he pelted her with, she nevertheless didn’t dare resist, even when his tongue slipped back into her mouth.
The memory of Tambry’s kisses kept her mind occupied while the strange man raped her. She recalled the memories at random: two curious girls exchanging gentle kisses during a sleepover only a few short years ago, kisses and touching and sleeping in the nude with the door locked on hot summer nights, two little girls shrieking during a thunderstorm, a kiss exchanged in the girl’s bathroom back in elementary school. She wondered about Tambry’s parents, and Manly Dan as well. Did they ever know? One of the stranger’s hands brushed her hair while he made out with her. I wish I had a cigarette.
So many grotesquely warm kisses and licks of his tongue assailed her while he fucked her in a slow, steady pace that felt almost romantic if not for all the misery he was inflicting. It was menacing and confusing, what he was doing, the fear and pain mixing with something else, the spark of a sensation she didn’t want to admit could ignite, not here, not with a rapist. It horrified her more than anything else.
She squealed when, done with her lips, he began nibbling her neck. Her squeals ignored, he pressed his teeth on her throat and carefully tugged at the sensitive tissue. His hands snaked up and down her body, fondling and groping her ass, fiddling with the painful bite marks he had left on both her tits. He tweaked her sore nipples, squeezed her tender breasts.
After what felt like forever for Wendy, his unchecked lust drove him to very suddenly rock harder and faster inside her. With teeth clenched tight she looked up at the blackness above and let her limp body jostle however way the stranger forced her. Please cum, please just cum and leave me alone.
During one particularly hard pump his penis plopped out of her. Gasping at its exit and the relief its departure brought, she tried to cover up her shame by crossing her legs. Wendy’s reprieve was short-lived. The rapist stroked his dick a few times and then guided himself back inside her in one quick, hard motion. Every inch of her body trembled as he violated her all over again.
His grunts grew louder with each passing buck. He grabbed both her tits and pushed his full weight at her pelvis. Sensing that he might finally be close to finishing, Wendy arched her back both to accommodate him and to lessen the pain. A loud groan emitted by him signaled when his cock was finally ready to unleash its seed. Gush after gush of hot cum squirted into her womb. The rapist kissed her as he kept pumping his spurting penis at her canal, until every last drop of cum finished spilling out from his urethra. Something wet and sticky dribbled out of her vagina, even as the stranger kept his dick firmly in her pussy. The fluid leaked down her ass. How much of that is cum? How much is blood? Am I going to bleed to death? I’m not even on the pill.
Unceremoniously he pulled his shrunken prick out and rolled over by the bathtub, panting and moaning in satisfaction. Except for the twitching of her legs Wendy remained still, her mind unable to adequately process what she had just gone through. I have to get out. It was the only salient thought she could muster. The belt, though still binding her wrists, had loosened a little during the assault. While working on pulling off the restraint, she, as quietly as possible, pushed herself away from the rapist and moved toward the door. The cum left in her cervix dribbled down her thighs in squirts as she forced her legs to move. Oh man, that’s so fucking gross.
Wendy didn’t get far. His grip harsh and severe, he took her by the ankle and pulled her back towards him. She screamed for help as loudly as she could. Where the fuck is everyone?! She contemplated the perverse notion of a twelve year old boy or girl barging in to rescue her from a rapist, who was probably also a pedophile. What could they possibly do? Wendy continued screaming for help anyway.
The rapist didn’t seem to care anymore about whether or not Wendy screamed, neither punching her nor covering her mouth. Grabbing her by her hair he dragged her across the floor and pinned her face down into her own jeans. She burst out into tears again, sobbing into the course denim fabric. He angled her ass up into the air and spread her legs apart as he prepared to mount her.
Wendy hyperventilated, knowing full well he was about to rape her again. She also understood which hole he was going for this time. Whether meaning to or not she wasn’t actually sure, but she clenched her asshole tight as he clasped onto her hip with one hand and with the other whipped his dick across her ass cheeks. A couple swipes of his cock along the length of her cum coated slit made him swell-up. He pumped it back in her womanhood with ease, letting it harden fully before pulling out and pressing it on her asshole.
“Why are you doing this?” she said with a shaky, broken voice. The rapist responded by slapping her ass. He took a hand full of her hair and pulled, forcing her head back sharply. “Fucking say something you piece of SHIT!”
Despite her clenching the rapist managed to pierce her rectum. The head of his cock gradually split her anal hole open. Whatever small amount of lubricant he had collected from her vagina did little to ease the torture of his penetrating, bulbous head popping into her anal canal. With a strong grip around her waist he kept her still, not that she offered any resistance. She bit into her jeans, closed her eyes, and endured it, instead focusing her efforts on freeing her hands.
Moving her waist backwards onto his crotch, the rest of his veiny length drove straight into the inner walls of her rear end. He ravaged her anew, this time his pelvis colliding hard against her lily white, freckled ass. Some part of her rectal anatomy made a cracking sound; she wondered if he had succeeded in tearing something. Through gritted teeth she uttered a guttural yell obscured by a mouthful of denim. Her pants soaked up her tears.
The stranger fondled her ass cheeks, momentarily pausing just to pat and tap her bouncy, smooth rump. He continued enjoying her rear as he slowly pivoted his sex out of her to the ridge of his head and then leisurely bucked his way back in, all the way to his member’s hilt. There was a hard spank across her bubbly butt, a gesture he repeated over and over. After enough abuse her ass cheeks grew hot, and pulsed.
She wasn’t sure which was worse: the pain of being broken in, or the humiliation of being used like a cheap sex doll. She winced as he quickened his pace, his body finding the right rhythm and angle to ride her ass at. His nails clawed at her behind, and then he gave it another hard slap.
All the constant smacking reminded Wendy of Tambry’s riding crop, the one she had stolen off some rich guy while stoned off her mind at some stupid horse show. They both had to have been about fourteen at the time. Who was it? The Northeasterners or whatever? Was that who she stole that from? Those founding guys or something? Though they had planned to use it multiple times on each other, they only ever used it once.
He yanked her hair again, this time hard enough to heave her upper body off the floor like she was nothing more than a weightless ragdoll. Another yelp escaped Wendy, her upper body swayed in mid-air, tethered in place only by the man’s hold on her pelvis and her hair that he so violently claimed. Her tits bounced freely and wildly as he continued breaking in her anal canal in the name of his own sadistic, ruthless pleasure. How many more times you are going to do this to me?
Letting go of her pelvis, he wrapped his arm around her abdomen and pressed his chest against her back. Kneeling now, the stranger repositioned his victim, seating her on his lap, and jackhammered the length of his cock up her ass. She whined and fidgeted, but did little else to stop him. He panted heavily into Wendy’s ear as he used his arms to move her up and down his impaling length. Nipping at the nape of her neck while he railed her vertically, he twisted her head toward his face and forcibly kissed her. With his tongue down her throat, he proceeded to play with her clit and cup her tits, leaving his abdominal and pelvic muscles to do most of the work of grinding into the teen’s asshole.
Meanwhile, the only thing Wendy concentrated on was releasing the belt’s metal prong from its notch. She extended her hand, hoping the metal piece would escape its little hole. Just a little more…
The belt slid off and Wendy’s hands were finally free.
Ejaculating inside her for the second time, the rapist released her and let her drop to the floor. She landed on her hands, averting a blow to her head, and though exhausted, she quickly found her jeans and searched the pockets. The rapist didn’t seem to notice as he was too distracted with milking his orgasm for all the pleasure Wendy’s clamping asshole could provide him. Bursts of semen were injected into Wendy’s rectum, and she felt every single rush of hot spunk painting her anal tunnel, though for her part she tried to ignore the sensation of cum swilling about her anus. He pulled out and freely let loose streams of sperm all over her ass, back, and hair.
“FUCK YOU!” Wendy yelled, shooting him with her Taser. The rapist’s high pitched screech was followed by a loud splash as he collapsed into the tub. Scrambling back onto her feet, and using the sink to stand herself up, Wendy limped toward the door. She tripped over the rapist’s foot, though luckily enough she landed against the door, her hand quickly finding the knob. Home free, I’m home free!
It wouldn’t budge. Somehow a door that locked from inside wouldn’t open. She tried feeling for a latch, a button, or any sort of locking mechanism. There was nothing of the kind to be found, just an old knob that simply refused to turn. Wendy alternated between pounding her fist at the door and slamming her shoulder at it. “MABEL! DIPPER! SOMEBODY!”
The rapist splashed about in the water as he recovered from the electric shock. Wendy turned around just in time to see his silhouette charging towards her. Exhausted and barely able to stand, she had enough left in her to dodge his charge. It hardly mattered, an errant swing of his elbow made contact with her temple. She was propelled to her side, her face smashing against the medicine cabinet mirror with enough force to crack the glass. Unable to sustain herself, she slipped and fell, her shoulder blades hitting the side of the tub.
The fall and the ensuing pain made it difficult for her to think. The next thing she knew his hands were wrapped around her neck, and propelling her up along the tub’s rim, he dunked her head face-up into the water. Gagging and choking on the water that invaded her nose and mouth, she feebly tried to pry the rapist’s hands off her. Her fingers desperately clawing at the fabric of his suit, she was only mildly aware of the fact that she was urinating all over herself. Wendy felt the life in her fade, snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
* * *
“NO!” Wendy hollered, opening her eyes. Her hands holding onto the tub’s rim for dear life, she quickly scanned the room. All the candles were still lit and flickering. Her jeans were still where she has tossed them earlier, in its back pocket the outline of her Taser was clearly distinguishable. The cabinet mirror shimmered without a single crack upon its surface. Most importantly there were no darkened corners hiding mysterious psychopaths. Regardless, it took a long time for her racing heart to slow down. Holding her breath for over a minute, she made herself breathe.
“Was all that just a dream?” No, more like a nightmare. Glancing out the window above her, she saw little more than clouds and heavy rainfall. Curling her legs into her chest, then wrapping her arms around them, she placed her head between her knees and waited for the trembling to stop. That was so real. So real.
But it was fake, just a crazy nightmare, she reassured herself. It had to be. What time is it anyway? Ow my arm, what-
There was a dark, purple bruise on her right forearm, right below her wrist. “W-w-what?” she stammered. Her head ached tremendously. She rubbed her temple only to find another bruise, one that started oozing something down her face. It got into one of her eyes. Wendy tried to wipe it off her forehead and brow only to sense more fluid trickling from her wounded temple. When she looked at her hands she realized just how dark it was. Blood. “Oh God.”
The dark red liquid dripped down her hands into the pool of blood red water, hidden only slightly by a thin layer of red-tinged soap bubbles. The heavy smell of metal and iron punctuated the air, obscuring the scent of rose petals and kittens. Standing up was a chore; every part of her felt like she had been hit by a truck. Or perhaps, like something far worse had been done to her.
But that was a dream, I wasn’t raped... was I? The pulsing pain in her head only grew worse. Staring down at herself, she beheld her nude form, completely drenched in blood.
“No, no, no, it didn’t happen! It didn’t hap- it didn’t!” Her blood soaked hands stained the walls and shower curtain with smeared blood prints as she strained to remain standing. The candles went out, one by one, until the one on top the sink was the last left lit.
From the surrounding darkness a figure stepped out into the candle’s light. It was a teenaged girl with blonde hair, donned in a black dress. The girl, not acknowledging Wendy, instead took a couple short steps to the medicine cabinet. Looking into the mirror, Wendy saw not the blonde girl’s reflection, but her own. Wendy’s reflection formed a smile across her wicked lips, and then winked at Wendy herself. The mirror cracked, then shattered.
Picking the candle up, the blonde girl took a couple steps towards a paralyzed Wendy, who, exhausted and mentally broken, was too petrified to move. The blonde girl stepped into the bloody tub; their faces were almost close enough for a kiss. She raised the light up to their faces, and with a single puff, blew out the candle.
“Fire walk with me,” she whispered. The blood combusted, the tub became an inferno, and Wendy, engulfed by flame, screamed into the night.

* * *
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Twin Pines