Discovering Faith Pt 03
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Crossing the Threshold
It was three o’clock in the afternoon and school had just ended.
Kids rushed out of St. Mary’s Junior High as t he end-of-the-day bell rang.
A warm September breeze blew across the school yard.
It was t he first day of eight grade for Cathie. Only a month ago, she had turned thirteen years old. Only a month ago, she had met Michael.
Michael was the boy of Cathie’s dreams. He was tall, only a year older than her, and whenever he smiled— why, he had the cutest crooked grin she had ever seen. The two had become friends over the summer when Michael had moved into the house next door. It took four weeks until Cathie decided to tell him that she loved him.
The two were walking home from school, both dressed in their uniforms. Michael in a light blue collared shirt with navy blue pants and maroon penny loafers. Cathie in a light blue cardigan, white shirt, navy blue skirt, white socks with frills and black slippers.
They crossed the field across from school and headed into the forest that separated their neighborhood from town. Michael ran ahead, Cathie chasing him, giggling.
“Come on, Cath! You’re so slow!” Michael laughed.
“Shut up!” Cathie joked as she caught up with him, “You know I can’t run fast!”
The innocent smile on Cathie’s face disappeared as she saw a group of boys in front of her. They were from her school because they were wearing the same uniforms as Michael but she didn’t recognize any of their faces or know who they were.
Michael ran up to them, there were about seven, and put his hands on his knees: panting from running.
“See? I brought her,” Michael smiled uneasily at the group of guys.
One of the boys, who was about as tall as Michael, walked forward to him. He had blonde hair and smiled a dervish grin. He appeared to be the ringleader of the gang.
“Good job, Mike,” the boy said.
“Now will you guys let me off the hook?” Michael asked exasperated.
“We’ll see,” the boy chuckled, “as long as she puts out.”
Cathie was afraid now but she wasn’t going to show it.
“Michael,” Cathie said firmly, “who are these guys?”
The ringleader stepped forward.
“It doesn’t matter who we are,” he scoffed, “What matters is who you are— and that’s a girl who’s fresh for picking. Just turned thirteen, eh?”
Cathie frowned.
“You guys are all a bunch of perv—”
*Whack!*
The ringleader smacked her in the face. Cathie staggered to the ground, grasping leaves in her hands as a tear tricked down her cheek.
Regaining herself, Cathie breathed deeply, as she looked up she was caught by surprise: the ringleader was kneeling down on top of her. Instinctively, Cathie began to kick and scream; twisting and turning under the weight of the boy’s body.
The ringleader covered her mouth.
“Quiet!” he yelled, “No one is going to help you! No one who even would help you is near!”
Cathie turned her head back and forth looking for Michael. She spotted him sitting on a large rock next to an oak. She reached out for him- only to her dismay- he looked sheepishly at her and buried his face in his hands.
“Hold her down, boys!” the ringleader commanded.
Four other boys descended upon Cathie. Two took each of her hands and pinned them against the dirty ground. Another two held her legs to the earth.
Cathie closed her eyes, hoping this was all a bad dream. How could Michael betray me? She thought. And what are these boys doing?
When she opened them, the nightmare had not disappeared, it had gotten worse. The ringleader was now standing over her. His feet brushed against her side as he kept repositioning himself. He took of his brown leather belt, tossing it to the side. Next to be undone was his fly. Then his pants fell to the ground. His arms raised into the air as he removed his shirt. Now he stood there in just a wife beater and pair of red boxers.
“James, you can have the honors,” the ringleader motioned to a meek looking boy in glasses.
“Certainly, Chris,” the boy replied. He got up and came behind the ringleader; putting his hands around his leader’s waist he slowly removed the boxers.
Behind the shedding of dozens of tears, Cathie could not see. Cathie didn’t want to see. But if she could, she would have seen five inches of a young erect phallus.
The ringleader, Chris, descended upon Cathie once again. Cathie could feel his erect penis brush against the side of her thigh. Slowly, Chris began to undo the buttons of her cardigan.
“Just rip it off!” a boy next to him yelled.
“Quiet, you,” Chris leered at the boy, “These goods need to look undamaged when we’re finished.”
After removing her cardigan, Cathie watched haplessly through more and more tears as Chris removed her shirt. His hand circled behind her back and undid her trainer’s bra. He tossed that to the side too.
Cathie’s breasts were just beginning to bud. They were sensitive and she shivered as the wind chilled them. Her leg jerked suddenly as she felt Chris run his fingers over her nipples, circling each one with his index finger.
“Let’s see that pussy of yours now,” Chris grinned.
Pussy? Cathie had never known the term but she soon realized what he meant as he slipped off her skirt and panties.
“Well look at that,” Chris smiled big, “that is one perfect little snatch we’ve got here! So pink! And, Christ, boys! Look, the little bitch is wet! And you’re calling us the perverts! Ha!”
“Pop her cherry!” another boy jeered.
Pop? Cherry? Cathie didn’t know what they were talking about. Then she let out a piercing scream as two of Chris’ fingers plunged inside her.
She didn’t want to assess the pain but looking down Cathie realized she was bleeding.
“Please,” Cathie cried, “Look, you’ve hurt me now, please, let me go.”
“Shut up, bitch,” Chris smiled.
He grabbed her panties from the side and wiped up the blood that was on her thigh. Throwing them aside again, Chris laughed and looked greedily down at Cathie.
“Let’s do this thing.”
The group of guys let out a roar of jeers as Chris lay down on Cathie. Cathie closed her eyes, expecting the worse. She could feel Chris pressing the head of his penis against the entrance of her vagina. With any luck, he wouldn’t make it in.
It didn’t happen that way. Chris thrust his crotch forward and Cathie let out another scream as she felt his hard, fifteen year old penis slide inside of her.
It’s over, Cathie thought, He got it. They can let me go now.
But it wasn’t. Chris began to pump his legs back and forth, sliding in and out of her. The head of his penis stroked her clitoris with every thrust in and out of her.
She felt violated. It felt weird. It felt different. Yet, somehow, strangely, it felt— good.
Cathie didn’t know what to say. She was at loss of words. Her cries had been in vain, so she did the only effortless thing left to do. She let out a deep moan.
“Shit!” Chris said, perspiring, “The bitch likes it!”
Cathie soon found her bearings in the entire situation. As she looked over at Michael, she realized he was still moping. The hands on her breasts were no longer those of Chris’ but instead those of the two boys holding down her hands. One of the boys assigned to hold down her legs had taken off her sock and slipper and was nibbling at her toes. All the boys were rubbing their crotches.
This continued for another five minutes. Cathie moaning and screaming the entire time. Then, Chris stopped.
“I’m gonna cum” He looked at her, expecting her to understand.
Once again, Cathie did not know what to expect. She watched as Chris vigorously jerked at his own penis. Then, without warning, white liquid burst out from it and onto Cathie’s stomach. It looked like milk but was thicker and warm.
Minutes later, Chris was dressed again. The gang of boys left, leaving Michael crying on the rock and Cathie lying like a rag doll on the ground.
After what seemed to be forever, Cathie sat up; she took her panties and wiped off the disgusting liquid on her stomach. Then she gathered her belongings and got dressed.
As she was finishing buttoning up her cardigan, she noticed Michael had stopped crying. He was just sniffling now, looking at her, red-eyed.
“No one can know about this, Cath,” he spoke hoarsely, “I am so sorry.”
“No one will,” Cathie began to cry again, “but, Michael, I don’t want to see you anymore.”
And with that, Cathie walked off through the forest, leaving her days with Michael and any memories of him, long behind. -->
It was three o’clock in the afternoon and school had just ended.
Kids rushed out of St. Mary’s Junior High as t he end-of-the-day bell rang.
A warm September breeze blew across the school yard.
It was t he first day of eight grade for Cathie. Only a month ago, she had turned thirteen years old. Only a month ago, she had met Michael.
Michael was the boy of Cathie’s dreams. He was tall, only a year older than her, and whenever he smiled— why, he had the cutest crooked grin she had ever seen. The two had become friends over the summer when Michael had moved into the house next door. It took four weeks until Cathie decided to tell him that she loved him.
The two were walking home from school, both dressed in their uniforms. Michael in a light blue collared shirt with navy blue pants and maroon penny loafers. Cathie in a light blue cardigan, white shirt, navy blue skirt, white socks with frills and black slippers.
They crossed the field across from school and headed into the forest that separated their neighborhood from town. Michael ran ahead, Cathie chasing him, giggling.
“Come on, Cath! You’re so slow!” Michael laughed.
“Shut up!” Cathie joked as she caught up with him, “You know I can’t run fast!”
The innocent smile on Cathie’s face disappeared as she saw a group of boys in front of her. They were from her school because they were wearing the same uniforms as Michael but she didn’t recognize any of their faces or know who they were.
Michael ran up to them, there were about seven, and put his hands on his knees: panting from running.
“See? I brought her,” Michael smiled uneasily at the group of guys.
One of the boys, who was about as tall as Michael, walked forward to him. He had blonde hair and smiled a dervish grin. He appeared to be the ringleader of the gang.
“Good job, Mike,” the boy said.
“Now will you guys let me off the hook?” Michael asked exasperated.
“We’ll see,” the boy chuckled, “as long as she puts out.”
Cathie was afraid now but she wasn’t going to show it.
“Michael,” Cathie said firmly, “who are these guys?”
The ringleader stepped forward.
“It doesn’t matter who we are,” he scoffed, “What matters is who you are— and that’s a girl who’s fresh for picking. Just turned thirteen, eh?”
Cathie frowned.
“You guys are all a bunch of perv—”
*Whack!*
The ringleader smacked her in the face. Cathie staggered to the ground, grasping leaves in her hands as a tear tricked down her cheek.
Regaining herself, Cathie breathed deeply, as she looked up she was caught by surprise: the ringleader was kneeling down on top of her. Instinctively, Cathie began to kick and scream; twisting and turning under the weight of the boy’s body.
The ringleader covered her mouth.
“Quiet!” he yelled, “No one is going to help you! No one who even would help you is near!”
Cathie turned her head back and forth looking for Michael. She spotted him sitting on a large rock next to an oak. She reached out for him- only to her dismay- he looked sheepishly at her and buried his face in his hands.
“Hold her down, boys!” the ringleader commanded.
Four other boys descended upon Cathie. Two took each of her hands and pinned them against the dirty ground. Another two held her legs to the earth.
Cathie closed her eyes, hoping this was all a bad dream. How could Michael betray me? She thought. And what are these boys doing?
When she opened them, the nightmare had not disappeared, it had gotten worse. The ringleader was now standing over her. His feet brushed against her side as he kept repositioning himself. He took of his brown leather belt, tossing it to the side. Next to be undone was his fly. Then his pants fell to the ground. His arms raised into the air as he removed his shirt. Now he stood there in just a wife beater and pair of red boxers.
“James, you can have the honors,” the ringleader motioned to a meek looking boy in glasses.
“Certainly, Chris,” the boy replied. He got up and came behind the ringleader; putting his hands around his leader’s waist he slowly removed the boxers.
Behind the shedding of dozens of tears, Cathie could not see. Cathie didn’t want to see. But if she could, she would have seen five inches of a young erect phallus.
The ringleader, Chris, descended upon Cathie once again. Cathie could feel his erect penis brush against the side of her thigh. Slowly, Chris began to undo the buttons of her cardigan.
“Just rip it off!” a boy next to him yelled.
“Quiet, you,” Chris leered at the boy, “These goods need to look undamaged when we’re finished.”
After removing her cardigan, Cathie watched haplessly through more and more tears as Chris removed her shirt. His hand circled behind her back and undid her trainer’s bra. He tossed that to the side too.
Cathie’s breasts were just beginning to bud. They were sensitive and she shivered as the wind chilled them. Her leg jerked suddenly as she felt Chris run his fingers over her nipples, circling each one with his index finger.
“Let’s see that pussy of yours now,” Chris grinned.
Pussy? Cathie had never known the term but she soon realized what he meant as he slipped off her skirt and panties.
“Well look at that,” Chris smiled big, “that is one perfect little snatch we’ve got here! So pink! And, Christ, boys! Look, the little bitch is wet! And you’re calling us the perverts! Ha!”
“Pop her cherry!” another boy jeered.
Pop? Cherry? Cathie didn’t know what they were talking about. Then she let out a piercing scream as two of Chris’ fingers plunged inside her.
She didn’t want to assess the pain but looking down Cathie realized she was bleeding.
“Please,” Cathie cried, “Look, you’ve hurt me now, please, let me go.”
“Shut up, bitch,” Chris smiled.
He grabbed her panties from the side and wiped up the blood that was on her thigh. Throwing them aside again, Chris laughed and looked greedily down at Cathie.
“Let’s do this thing.”
The group of guys let out a roar of jeers as Chris lay down on Cathie. Cathie closed her eyes, expecting the worse. She could feel Chris pressing the head of his penis against the entrance of her vagina. With any luck, he wouldn’t make it in.
It didn’t happen that way. Chris thrust his crotch forward and Cathie let out another scream as she felt his hard, fifteen year old penis slide inside of her.
It’s over, Cathie thought, He got it. They can let me go now.
But it wasn’t. Chris began to pump his legs back and forth, sliding in and out of her. The head of his penis stroked her clitoris with every thrust in and out of her.
She felt violated. It felt weird. It felt different. Yet, somehow, strangely, it felt— good.
Cathie didn’t know what to say. She was at loss of words. Her cries had been in vain, so she did the only effortless thing left to do. She let out a deep moan.
“Shit!” Chris said, perspiring, “The bitch likes it!”
Cathie soon found her bearings in the entire situation. As she looked over at Michael, she realized he was still moping. The hands on her breasts were no longer those of Chris’ but instead those of the two boys holding down her hands. One of the boys assigned to hold down her legs had taken off her sock and slipper and was nibbling at her toes. All the boys were rubbing their crotches.
This continued for another five minutes. Cathie moaning and screaming the entire time. Then, Chris stopped.
“I’m gonna cum” He looked at her, expecting her to understand.
Once again, Cathie did not know what to expect. She watched as Chris vigorously jerked at his own penis. Then, without warning, white liquid burst out from it and onto Cathie’s stomach. It looked like milk but was thicker and warm.
Minutes later, Chris was dressed again. The gang of boys left, leaving Michael crying on the rock and Cathie lying like a rag doll on the ground.
After what seemed to be forever, Cathie sat up; she took her panties and wiped off the disgusting liquid on her stomach. Then she gathered her belongings and got dressed.
As she was finishing buttoning up her cardigan, she noticed Michael had stopped crying. He was just sniffling now, looking at her, red-eyed.
“No one can know about this, Cath,” he spoke hoarsely, “I am so sorry.”
“No one will,” Cathie began to cry again, “but, Michael, I don’t want to see you anymore.”
And with that, Cathie walked off through the forest, leaving her days with Michael and any memories of him, long behind. -->
Eisley
- 04.02.2022
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