The violation of Linda

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Linda Whitman could almost hear the whip slice through the air and sting her pussy. She stretched her legs wide and wiggled from the ropes she had applied to her ankles. As she did, the peach colored hairs that adorned her tiny, virgin pussy cooled. Throwing her head to one side and rubbing her cheek over the rough nap of the carpet, she gave a low, hungry grunt.

This was the third delicious orgasm she'd had in less than five minutes. And it had all started this afternoon at school.

Richard Wilder had grabbed her just before study hall and shoved her in a dark corner, at the end of the lockers. He had, given her an animal like smile then jerked his head forward, as if to kiss her. Instead, he spoke, his words chilling her to the base of her spine.

"When is someone gonna get a little dab of that pussy of yours?" he asked, his lips an inch from hers, his warm breath musky sweet.

"Don't," Linda managed to splutter out after looking for what seemed an eternity into those dead, icy blue eyes. "You… you're hurting me."

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