Quote Originally Posted by usedHil25
I love your mind hun.

I too love the innocent girl in the wrong place scenario. The "cockteaser who deserves it" angle doesnt get me as wet as the "she was sweet, friendly & virginal & had no enemies" angle.
I've given some thought as to how I got this fixation. Well, I dealt with it for years, and it hasn't gone away, so now I'm indulging it--but strictly in fiction!! Let's be real: Do actually try to pull this off would be very wrong, harmful, not to mention risky.

That said, I moved in religious, fairly affluent circles when I "came of age" sexually. So the girls I lust after are very sweet, very delicate, innocent and virginal. Now I know that lots of girls maintain the impression but have their private sex lives, but the image of the morally unavailable young lass is carved deep onto my psyche.

Here's another thing: back then (early-mid sixties) girls didn't expose their anatomy as much as they do now. They let their clothing do it--especially little glimpses of lingerie! This technique was even more intense in earlier cultures, e.g. Victorian--a bit of ankle, a flash of knee, some petticoat, lace-edged satin slips peeking out. Not to mention bras: glimpses down the cleavage, the outline of the thing beneath an slightly thin blouse...Much can be said for feminine modesty and subtlety!

The most beautiful and virginal image I have of a girl is as a bride. (Also, debutantes, prom princesses, socialites.) Yeah, girls are usually very experienced when they marry these days, but I love the idea of a very pure and innocent girl on her wedding day--and night. The idea of violating her on this occasion is fiendishly intense to me.

I have not yet posted a story, but I consider myself a very descriptive writer, and have several in progres. In one story, a young couple are subdued in a remote honeymoon cottage, where the bride is abused (extreme) and raped (lots) in front of her tied-up groom. Here's the opening paragraph:

"Jill giggled as she clung to her new husband's neck. She was a petite girl, just over five feet, but her beloved Doug was not much larger, and he definitely had his arms full as he struggled to carry her over the threshold of the honeymoon cottage. Her long, light brown hair--somewhatg golden-- fell down her back, about her shoulders, and down her trim, modest silk-covered breasts. She gath*ered up the voluminous satin skirt of her wedding gown, and several layers of crisp taffeta petticoat rustled from beneath. With her other arm, she scooped together yards of sheer silk bridal veil, and wrapped it around her slender arm, which she then wrapped around Doug's neck. She held on to the short engineer, more than he held her up as they squeezed through the door. He carried his lovely treasure into the middle of the rustic front room, and, as she slid out of his arms onto the floor, her skirt bunched up, display*ing slender, white-stockinged legs, up to her smooth knees.

An intruder is already on scene, and he subdues the husband, tying him up. The poor little nerd has to watch everything that happens to his beautiful bride.

After he makes her give him a blow job, he rests a bit, and then has the bride begin to pleasure him, to get him erect again for another assault:

“Jill.”
“Yes, sir?”
“On your knees. Here.” He pointed to a spot between his feet. She moved forward, dropping to her knees. Yards of sweet silk brushed against his thighs, legs, and feet as her gown puffed out. She looked up at him, then down at his dick which had become flacid. “I'm am going to sit back, and you are going to pleasure me, my lovely bride. You will play with my prick, using your fingers, hair, and veil. I want you to stroke it, caress it, kiss it, and softly pull on it. Brush it gently with any part of you that is soft, silky, sweet. Get it hard!
“Do it!”
He shook the coil of rope which led to the nylon line entangled around her husband's penis. She knew he would use it. His cock had softened, and was lying on his thighs, but it still seemed kind of thick. She had never encountered anything she loathed more than the ugly, old penis plopped on his pale thigh. She picked it up, pulling a little, and felt a small quiver of pleasure from him. Jill took a few yards of silk veil off her shoulder, draping it over his belly, lap, and thighs. He picked her hands up, and placed them atop the sheer expanse. “Rub me all over with that, Jill. I like the feel of silk.” Jill swept a yard of the veil across his stomach and groin, back and forth, caressing and tickling him slightly. A bit of life entered the organ, and it twitched somewhat. Then she took a long shock of her glossy hair and lay it over his cock and scrotum. She wrapped the baby-fine strands around his manhood, and she gently massaged him with it.
“Kiss it, Jill. I want my bride to kiss my wonderful cock. This is your wedding night, and you're going to do wonderful, sweet, loving and wifely things to me.”

There's lots of physical torture, but I really dig in with the psychological stuff, too.

I'm open to ideas for a title. I'm thinking of "Honeymoon Horror," but am open to other suggestions.