Chelsea stood at her window and stared at the bonfire burning in the woods a mile away.
It was a party; probably a beer party, she thought, but a party no less. She’d seen that fire almost every night, though she’d yet to go out there, even during the day. She hadn’t even been here that long; her family-her, her father and mother-had moved here in the middle of June, just after school let out, and it was already early August. She’d yet to make any friends; her family lived so far outside of town, on a small farm, that she never saw anybody.
The fire offered a chance, though; there were bound to be kids there. She knew her mother would never approve. “Beer parties are trouble” she’d say. Chelsea didn’t want to go there to drink; she just wanted to meet some of the kids.
They’d probably be older than her, of course; she’d just turned twelve a month before moving here, and would be starting seventh grade. Back home though, a lot of kids her age went to beer parties, and she figured they probably did here, too, in Sticksville.
She looked at the fire a while longer, then decided to risk sneaking out. Her parents were asleep; if she was quiet, she might make it.
First though, she had to get dressed. She searched through her drawers for a pair of shorts, but couldn’t find any; she must have worn them all. She settles for an acid washed denim mini skirt, definitely not woods wear, and a pink design t-shirt. She stuffed her feet into a pair of comfortable leather moccasins and stepped in front of the mirror to look at herself.
She looked pretty typical for a twelve year old: tall for her age, kind of thin, long legs. Her body was still boyish, though she’d developed a nice set of boobs and even had to wear a bra; her face was pretty, lightly tanned from the sun, and her hair was a natural strawberry red, thick and heavy where it fell to the middle of her shoulder blades.
Deciding she looked okay, she crept quietly out of her room, then downstairs and out of the house. It was a full moon out; the road wasn’t far, and she headed for it, intending to walk there until she caught sight of the fire.
A car passed; she cringed, imagining her parents seeing her, or worse, some crazed sicko who’d snatch her up in a second, rape her, and dump her in a ditch with her throat cut. The car went up the road a ways, then stopped, and she felt a moment of panic when it started to back up. Two figures stepped out and started toward her, then jumped back in and the car took off in a squeal of tires.
Heart pounding, she stood there for a long time, trying to calm down. No more cars passed, and she began walking. After a while she heard the roar of loud music and shouts, and caught the glint of chrome not far ahead. Moving closer, she saw several cars and trucks, and the fire.
The moment she walked into the party, there was silence; dozens of faces stared up at her-there were a few girls among them, but everyone was clearly older than she was. Two beer kegs sat on one edge of the fire, surrounded by blankets, a boom box, and dozens of empty paper cups and beer cans. Slowly she raised one hand and waved with her fingers. “Hi. I’m Chelsea. My family lives down the road,” she squeaked.
She knew this was a mistake. “That’s her,” one boy whispered.
“The one we saw.”
“Well, hello Chelsea,” another said, getting up. “I’m Doug.”
A pair of hands pushed her from behind, propelling her into him. He stumbled, then grabbed her arm. He reeked of beer; several kids giggled. “My my, but aren’t you cute,” he slurred, then burped.
Chelsea grimaced. “Maybe I better go.”
“No, stay,” Doug burped. He wrapped his arm around her waist and jerked her against him. “We’re gonna party.”
“I’d-” Chelsea’s protest was cut off when he kissed her. It was not a soft kiss, or romantic; it was forced, his tongue shoving into her mouth. She managed to push away angrily.
“No! I’m leaving.”
“No you ain’t,” Doug burped. Someone grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms. Chelsea screamed, and a hand clamped over her mouth.
Doug stepped forward, sliding his hands up her thighs. Chelsea squirmed, but couldn’t get away. Doug lifted her skirt up, revealing her pink bikini panties to everyone. With a sharp tug that made her wince, he yanked them off.
“Shaved,” one of them said.
Chelsea began to whimper. Dave was down on his knees, blowing on her vagina. Then she felt his tongue against it, wet and rough. He stood up and smoothed the skirt down, grinning drunkenly. “We’re gonna party, bitch,” he slurred, “with you. Mikey! Al! Get some rope from the truck. Tie her hands back. She’s gonna party.”
Chelsea began to struggle now, but it was impossible to get away. The hand came away from her mouth and she opened it to scream. Doug stuffed her torn panties in, silencing her.
Her hands were jerked behind her, bound tightly together with rope. A towel was tied over her mouth, then she was pushed down, backwards, onto a nearby blanket. Several of the girls moved to hold her down. “It ain’t so bad,” one told her. “‘Less your a virgin.”
Doug was standing over her now. He poured his beer all over her chest, soaking her t-shirt. He knelt down, grabbed the collar, and tore it open. Chelsea closed her eyes; she felt him tug her bra away next, his hands probing at her erect pink nipples.
“Hey Doug, wait,” one girl said. “She’s just a kid!”
“So? So were you.” Chelsea felt him push her skirt up and spread her legs. She no longer tried to resist. She was going to be raped, probably gang raped.
“You’re gonna hurt her, Doug. She ain’t even wet. Let me suck it, lube you up.”
Chelsea looked up at the girl. She was about eighteen, very pretty.
“No,” Doug said. “Let her do it.”
Before Chelsea knew what was happening, the towel was pulled down and her panties were out. She shook her head as Doug moved up, pushing his cock against her lips. “Do it or I’ll fuck you dry,” he told her.
“Doug, come on. She’s just a little-”
“Shut up!,” Doug snapped. “She wanted to party, right?”
Doug kept pushing his cock against her lips. “Open up!”
Chelsea opened her mouth. Doug slid his cock in, working it in and out. It was thick and warm and soft, and Chelsea felt like gagging. Then he pulled it out and shoved the panties back in, telling the girl to finish. The towel was put back, and Doug knelt between her legs. She felt him lip her thighs again, then the head of his cock was against her. Chelsea braced herself.
Doug pushed. Chelsea screamed into the panties and towel, feeling something inside of her tear loose. The pain was unbearable; she wanted to black out, but couldn’t. Doug seemed to fill her, pinning her down with the force of his cock. She felt stretched, the thickness of Doug’s cock pushing deeper into her, touching her womb. It hurt immensely, but she couldn’t make him stop.
Doug pumped, his cock like a piston between her thighs. She felt a hand stroking her cheek, looked up to see the girl over her, trying to smile. Then Doug’s pumping turned to slamming; Chelsea jerked and screamed. Suddenly he slowed, and she felt something warm fill inside of her; she was afraid he might be pissing in her. Then he was out, and she relaxed.
Suddenly, another boy was in there; he was smaller than Doug, but it still hurt. Chelsea’s head began to swim; she was passing out.
She awoke again some time later, to find still another boy there. He was coming in her now; he was very still, moaning. She could feel his cock pulse in her. Then he pulled out, and nobody took his place.
Chelsea suddenly realized why; while she lay unconscious, every one of them had been in her. She tried to close her legs, but her thighs were too sore. The girl who had tried to help her earlier helped her up, then set her back down on her knees. “Not bad, honey,” she told Chelsea. “Twenty three guys. Now you’re gonna suck some of them.”
Powerless to resist, Chelsea just knelt there, sobbing, as they took away the towel and the panties. Then Doug was there, his cock in her mouth. It was still warm, and tasted of her own juices; she nearly gagged. He told her to suck, and she did.
Her mouth was sore, but somehow, she managed to bring him to an orgasm, his cock pulsed, and she choked on the thick, salty cum that shot down her throat. She swallowed all of it, gagging, then slid away from him and curled up into a ball. She was jerked back onto her knees and made to suck two more cocks before Doug shoved her down and raped her again.
Exhausted, she could do nothing but wait for him to come. No one else fucked her after him; he got up, zipped up his pants, then she was jerked to her feet.
She felt the point of a knife against her throat. “You ever, ever tell anyone we did this, and we’ll kill you,” Doug threatened. “Understand?”
Chelsea nodded. Doug lowered the knife, then used it to cut her bonds. Her hands were numb and swollen from being bound so tight. She wished Doug would kill her; she felt so humiliated and degraded, she wanted to die.
Someone yanked the remains of her t-shirt off and threw it into the fire. Someone else pulled her skirt off and tossed that in, too. Left naked but for her moccasins, she could only sob.
The girl who had been nice and then mean to her slipped a blanket around her and led her over to a pickup. She helped her in, then started the engine. “You’ll be alright. Doug isn’t kidding, though. He’ll kill you if you tell.”
“I won’t,” Chelsea whimpered. And she never would, either.