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AnonyMPC here, still alive, with another Phil Phantom Tribute. For those who aren't familiar with these, my Phil Phantom Tributes are my attempt to honor, capture the style of and deal with themes by a prolific erotic author of days gone by. It's low characterization, high smut, and fast-paced, not much like my previous work but, hopefully, good for a good quick fap.


The Problem With Kayla - A Phil Phantom Tribute by AnonyMPC (M+g, M+f, mg, mF, gangbang, rape/dubcon, ir, preg, best, incest, more)

You've probably heard a lot of rumors about our town, and it's true, we've got a serious problem, but I'm going to try to explain it. You need to know the whole score if we're going to talk about what we can do about it. Bear with me, this might take a bit and please hold your judgments until the end. Basically, it's a problem with one little girl named Kayla. And it all started with an essay. Or, at least, from the perspective of the town, it started there.

Now, when eleven-year-old Kayla Mitchell won her school's essay contest, everyone she knew was impressed. When that essay went on to the win a bigger competition that went state-wide, and to move on to contention in a national competition, many felt she deserved special recognition, and our mayor, who was friends with her principal, had his usual idea. See, this is a relatively small town, just one big public high school, one middle school, and one elementary, and one college that's filled mostly with out-of-towners. The college is technically outside of town, though we get a lot of the students visiting for food or entertainment, and some rent places here. It's certainly outside of the mayor's jurisdiction, and nobody cares about the younger school's sports except parents and perverts, so the high school sporting events are the social nexus of the town, and whenever somebody does something notable the mayor often uses a game's halftime to highlight their success, much to the annoyance of most of us who are just there to see youthful athleticism. Halftime was for cheerleaders, and most people resented time taken away to let some local band perform or honor the little league winners or whatever minor success was being celebrated, unless of course they or someone they knew was being honored.

Kayla's moment in the spotlight promised to be exceptionally boring... sure, all of her friends and family and family friends were excited, or pretended to be, about her getting to speak in front of her classmates and a good chunk of the town, but most people weren't interested in a little girl reading her award-winning essay on how to make America a better place to live.

Except when that little wisp of a girl got up in front of the microphone (or rather climbed up, since she's a small girl and to reach where the mic lowered to she still had to stand on a chair), brushed her dark bangs out of her hair, and began speaking, Kayla didn't read the essay she wrote--the one that many people suspected her parents actually wrote. The text of her actual essay would have in fact made a good, wholesome speech, not very interesting, but fundamentally sound, basically a speech about pride, pride in your school, your town, your state, and your country and how essential to a free society it was that it be the kind of pride that inspires us to be our best instead of being complacent. But that wasn't the speech she gave.

No, instead, little Kayla got up in front of everyone and started in on a different speech, and what it lacked in wholesomeness it made up for in memorability. It started off innocently enough but soon took a dramatic turn as this little preteen made it clear how she wanted to be raped, how she would never testify against a rapist, and went on to give her theories about it being the natural place for women to be sexual outlets and breeding stock for bold men, like the football players, or the men who eventually came to try to take her off the stage but she assumed were there to fuck her in front of everybody.

Maybe it shouldn't have taken so long to pull her off the stage, but while plenty in the crowd heard the weird turn the speech was taking, plenty of others just tuned out when a girl started reading something she wrote in school... and even her parents might have tuned out a little, for it started very much like the other essay, at least until the words "Girls should have the pride to be their own authentic self. Never be ashamed of who you are and who you were meant to be. I'm not. A lot of girls my age are already deciding if they want to do sexual things with guys. Well, I don't want to make that decision. I know it's too much responsibility for me to worry about. If you ask me for sex, I'll say no. So don't ask! Just tell me to get down on my knees and suck your cock until it's hard enough to fuck me with. I'll do it and keep it our dirty secret, because I'm submissive like a girl should be. Or better yet, just be a real man and push me down and force your cock inside of whichever hole you like best, that's the way nature intended and it makes me so wet to think about. If you ask me, forced sex is best sex. Now, don't take it personally if I fight back until you get it inside... sometimes I think it's just more fun for both of us that way, but if you're not strong enough to overpower a little girl like me long enough to shove your cock in her baby cunt, you're probably too young to shoot a load of warm gooey cum in her anyway, and then what's the point, right? If you're worried, bring a friend or two. A girl's got three fuck holes for a reason, right?"

It went on like that for two or three full three minutes as she expounded on her theories about women being naturally rape-bait for men, that she knew every girl probably didn't want that, but she sure did, and how if she got to high school before carrying at least one rape-baby, she'd take it as a personal insult to her attractiveness.

Stunned silence, aside from the occasional gasps, probably contributed to her being able to go on so long. What do you do when a little girl, barely out of elementary school, launches into a speech that lewd? Even if some might have privately agreed with her theories, at least a solid majority thought she should be taken off stage the first time she brought up rape, and expected somebody to do something. That was a big part of the problem I think... there were so many people there, everyone was waiting for somebody else to take appropriate action, which made everyone look like they were content to just sit and listen to this outrageous plea, a preteen giving a green light to any would-be child molesters. Another issue was that many of the men who might have wanted to stand up and escort her off-stage were worried that an erection might be seen when they did and taken the wrong way (the women had no such excuse, so why none of them stood up must remain a mystery). Also a key factor was that those with unquestioned authority were otherwise engaged... the mayor was listening to another game on earbuds during the speech, and so just nodded and smiled along without realizing what he was giving his smiling approval to, and the principals of both schools took the opportunity for a mid-game bathroom break, hearing the speech only on the field's speakers as their pants were around their ankles and I imagine both, separately, did what a lot of people wished they could while hearing Kayla talk. The vice-principals of the respective schools were screwing in a car in the parking lot, both cheating on spouses who routinely skipped out on the games and so missed the speech. As for Kayla's parents, well, they tried to push ahead to the front and demand action but it took them a while to work through the crowd.

Finally, two of the male high school teachers did intervene, pulling Kayla off the chair, and the stage as she finished off with, "Oh, I guess I've gone over my time. Or these two have decided to be the first to rape me. Wish me luck, and enjoy the rest of the game!"

Those men were not the first two to rape her, or indeed raped her at all that day. Nobody did. You'd have to have a pretty low opinion of this town if you expected otherwise. What there was, was a very tense conversation with her parents and the middle school principal and members of law enforcement, all trying to find out who put Kayla up to such a stunt. The little girl insisted it wasn't a stunt, it was her real feelings, she'd hoped she'd be raped by now but since it hadn't happened yet, she figured this was just the best way to tell as many people as possible that she was into it. After all, she reasoned, she knew she was going to get punished, but at least this way she only got punished once, which seemed a lot better than being punished every time she told someone it was okay to rape her and they had a conscience and told her parents, and besides, if she had to individually tell anyone who might rape her that it was okay, it was hardly like rape at all. No, she insisted, repeatedly, nobody had actually raped her yet, or touched her at all, she just knew she wanted it.

This had her parents, Walter and Nicole, tearing their hair out, not the least because they weren't sure whether to believe it, nor were the cops who had a duty to investigate. A girl that young with desires that kinky had to have been molested, they reasoned, or at least heavily groomed for it, and she might have been conditioned into keeping the secret with threats. To that end, over the next few days, every male relative and neighbor and teacher who had any sort of contact with her was investigated thoroughly... in the process, one of her uncles was found to be molesting his stepdaughter, but not Kayla... she'd only had the briefest contact with him and never alone, because everybody suspected something was going on there.

In the end, as far as anyone could tell, for Kayla could not be trusted to do so herself, nobody had actually had any kind of sex with Kayla. A medical exam (with a female doctor, at the mother's request) revealed no evidence of sexual intercourse, even oral, although the girl had lost her hymen, allegedly by her own hand. Furthermore, investigators searching through all of her social media and relationships could find no evidence that anybody had intentionally groomed her to be rape bait... the only signs they did find in fact pointed her to doing it herself, with a little help from Tumblr. The site was a social network that her parents didn't understand except that a lot of girls, and some celebrities, had Tumblr pages, and Kayla had one as well. Tumblr had a darker side, though... in addition to the youth market it also had a huge number of hardcore porn tumblrs, some for weird incest captions added to ordinary porn clips, or fetishizing evil cheating bitches, or a million of other perverted fetishes. Normally the two worlds stayed separate and while no individual sought out Kayla there and corrupted her, she had listed herself as eighteen and stumbled across the line, found and followed some of these adult pages, tame at first but from there exploring to more and more hardcore stuff. By the time of her speech, the ones she had been reblogging most were ones with a very perverted view of a woman's place in the world--that place being fucking or sucking or otherwise serving at the sexual whims of a strong man who took without asking and made the girl like it--and a batch of confessional-style tumblrs of girls willingly sacrificing their own intelligence and free will to be nothing more than sexual objects for these same kinds of men. Or women, occasionally... it's true that some of what Kayla had reposted involved dominant women enslaving other women, although that was a distinct minority. Looking at these images and watching these videos regularly while masturbating, a psychologist suggested, Kayla brainwashed herself into wanting it for her real life.

A girl like that couldn't be trusted to be out unsupervised, and even before they determined that must have been what happened, her parents and school officials agreed that the little girl wouldn't be safe without stern and constant guardianship, and that couldn't happen at school. The girl had just essentially told the whole town (for, even those who weren't at the game soon heard about it from those who were) that she wanted to be raped. You can't really take a thing like that back... even if you change your mind, people already heard that if you say no you don't really mean it. Before, Kayla was trusted to walk to school, but now that meant walking past a high school full of teens who'd heard her beg for someone to grab her and force themselves on her, through a park with a lot of tree cover that could hide someone planning to give her what she wanted, and a row of townhouses, any of which she could disappear into and probably would if told to. Even assuming she made it safely to school, it hardly meant she was out of danger, for throughout the day she'd be exposed to loads of older kids, some struggling through their first hormonal urges and craving sex any way they could get it, even if it meant getting together with a few friends and pinning down a sixth-grader who secretly wanted it while they took turns trying out every hole she's got. Not to mention staff, some of whom might even be well-meaning, just willing to give one of their favorite students what she said she wanted and teach a few life lessons along the way like how to lower the risk of pregnancy through becoming an anal-only rapewhore. Although almost certainly not all of them would be so well-intentioned or interested in her welfare at all... over the years I've known some people who work at the schools, not just janitors forced to clean up after ungrateful brats, but teachers, grow to resent kids in their charge enough that they take any opportunity to make them suffer they can get away with, and if that meant through a rape that would never be reported, even better. The danger was real. Beyond even the risks to Kayla herself, though, with her attitude being what it was, the school administration also worried that she was a danger to other students, giving them dangerous ideas.

So, by mutual agreement, the suspension that started the moment Kayla gave her speech became her parents taking her out of school permanently, and Kayla's mother grudgingly quitting her job. Nicole didn't want to take that step, she made good money, but there didn't seem to be much choice. After all, they may have trusted Kayla to be home alone before, but now they feared she'd open her door to anyone, stranger or not, and plenty of people knew exactly where the little girl who wanted to be raped lived. Left alone, Nicole knew she'd come home from work one day soon to find her daughter's preteen pussy or asshole stretched around a spasming cock... more likely, she'd just find the girl lying worn out or tied up with cum leaking out of her, but the image of catching them in the act was much more vivid in her nightmares from what she told her friends. Moreover, there was always the gnawing worry... maybe they'd clean up after themselves well and she'd never know for sure, but always suspect. Either way, in the wake of Kayla's speech, that little girl now had to be supervised at all times, lest she get a squirting dick inside her, and there were only so many relatives you could ask to help. Especially when Nicole, now newly paranoid, didn't trust any of them who had a dick of their own or, with women, any who had ever expressed, even casually, an interest in experimenting with lesbian sex, to even be briefly alone with her daughter. That left Kayla's great grandmother, called Grandma Martha, a cranky old woman who was against sex in all forms--to all appearances and her own admission, only had it once and got knocked up and angry and distrustful at men ever since--as the only alternative babysitter. The old broad might not have seemed like much help, elderly with cane and a bad hip, easy for a determined rapist to knock down and have his way with her great-granddaughter right in front of her, but she had a vicious Doberman named Chekov at her beck and call and frequently carried a shotgun, so to many potential rapists she was more intimidating than the mother. Still, at Grandma Martha's age, it wasn't fair to ask her to help more than a few hours a week. That meant the little girl had to be homeschooled, by mom, and in addition, kept out of public as much as humanly possible, lest somebody be willing to risk everything and others willing not to spoil a good time if someone else did.

This wasn't entirely parental paranoia with theoretical perverts and pervert-enablers behind every corner, either. It was a clear and present danger. In the first two weeks alone, two public rapes, or at least molestations, were barely averted and reinforced a mother's need for vigilance, not that it needed much reinforcing. The first incident was when, after a meeting with a psychologist, Nicole brought her daughter to McDonald's for lunch. Everything seemed normal--stares and whispers from other people, sure, but they were growing used to that--right up until she went to the bathroom and returned to find a man rushing away from their booth and trying to stuff an erection back in his pants and her daughter Kayla flailing to get back into a seated position from where she'd been pushed into the seat... you could tell she was pushed because a stray French fry was mashed into her dark hair. It was also hard to miss the way the button of her jeans was now missing, as though torn off, and they were also unzipped and pulled down to her ass enough to expose the crack but not quite the hole. A few seconds later, or if they weren't so tight, and that man would have gotten the clothes off and something inside something a lot tighter. The best proof that it hadn't already happened was Kayla's sulk the rest of the day. Then, not two days later, in the grocery store, Nicole lost track of her daughter as she crossed down a new aisle, then when she realized and turned back, she found Kayla on her knees staring at an erect cock with an open mouth and extended tongue, though thankfully this pervert, too, fled when she, not the daughter but the mother, screamed. Two near rapes of her eleven-year-old daughter in broad daylight, in public, that was sure to get her paranoid forever after. Worst of all, in the grocery store nobody else was in that aisle, but in the McDonalds? Nicole was sure she heard a suspicious round of coughing when she emerged from the bathroom, that could only be interpreted as a heads-up to a would-be rapist to abort before being caught even more in the act by an angry mother.

It takes a village to raise a child, they used to say, but Nicole couldn't trust this village. The size of the town is probably one reason. It's big enough to have plenty of strangers you can't identify and yet small enough that people cover for each other. I'd guess that between the contingent who secretly thought, "I hope that little slut gets what coming to her," and those who secretly thought "I hope that adorable little slut gets what she's after," it made up half the town, and a good chunk of that wanted to do the job themselves, or at least watch and help whoever did the job get away with it.

That made for a lonely life for a little girl. The Internet was cut off, of course, except rarely under direct supervision. Visitors were forbidden. Girls her own age were allowed, at first, to give Kayla some semblance of a social life... until their parents walked in on little Kayla being forced into eating pussy. Imagine that, being a parent, walking in on your child, tongue buried in the crotch of one of her visiting 'friends', face slimy and glistening, while another girl roughly banged your daughter's little hole with two fingers and a third held her arms so she couldn't fight back if she wanted to. Judging by the also wet cunt of the one holding the arms, they'd had time for at least one change-up to the roster.

After chasing the girls out of the room, Kayla's parents asked her what happened. "They forced me! I thought they were my friends!" But she said it with a big bright smile on her face, itself still stained with girly juices, and then went on to an excited recounting of exactly how they had forced her, a tale that Kayla could not recount without her hands slipping into her underwear and rubbing furiously, a step so far she'd avoided in front of her parents.

Mom broke first, unable to watch her daughter masturbate openly while grinning as she continued her story by explaining how one of her friends, Lauren, after cumming on her tongue, then got a rubber dong that she said was the size and shape of Lauren's dad and shoved it inside Kayla's ass while Michelle took her turn at forcing Kayla to use her mouth. When Kayla realized that Lauren had left the fake cock on the bed when it was her turn to hold Kayla down and completely forgotten it in the panic of getting out, the girl offered to get it and show exactly her parents how far it got forcibly pushed into her ass. That was the last straw and Nicole had to get out of the room.

Walter was still interested in hearing the tale, at least for the few seconds before his wife came back in to drag him out. Grandma Martha wasn't there at the time, but her advice was to whup the little girl's ass for acting like such a whore until she changed her ways... though she advised this for a lot, and they knew she sometimes put the advice into practice when she watched Kayla and the girl had said or done something outrageous in front of her. Walter and Nicole, although not approving of corporal punishment, never explicitly forbade it... but it was one thing to ignore it and another to perform it or specifically request it as punishment for their little girl's reaction to being turned into a fucktoy by her own friends.

That incident was, as far as they or anyone else knew, Kayla's first taste of actual rape, not fantasized, not threatened or nearly-got-raped, but actually rape, and from her own girl friends and a rubber cock that was apparently a good approximation of Lauren's father's, although whenever anybody talked about the event, the word 'forced' was used, but not 'raped,' not even by Kayla. It was as though nobody seemed to count it if it wasn't a real cock, but it had to count by any reasonable standard. That Kayla so evidently enjoyed it was pretty worrying to her parents, though. So was the occasional suggestion from well-meaning friends that maybe they should just let her get raped by at least one man on a regular basis, because otherwise she was in danger of becoming a lesbian. Reverend Chapman, the local preacher, who first proposed this (while providing, or attempting to provide, private spiritual counseling for the parents as Grandma Martha watched Kayla at home alone), also volunteered himself for the job, but was overruled by the parents immediately.

The other option the priest proposed--in that hasty meeting they requested in desperation and were now having second thoughts about--was a chastity belt the church had access to. That sounded like a good plan at first except that contrary to the media depictions, it would require regular removal, cleaning, and bodily care by an expert, who should see her daily and also hold the key. Again he volunteered himself as the only one qualified, and that suggestion was also rejected, and the whole chastity belt idea fell by the wayside, as did the hope of being able to rely on the church for any real help. "Besides," her father, Walter, pointed out once they got home. "It's not like it would let us send her to back school anyway... even if they couldn't get through the belt, that would just encourage them to rape her sweet mouth instead."

So began Kayla's isolation. Limited excursions, no visitors, not even non-internet phone privileges after the tendency to find the little girl masturbating at the instruction of a strange voice on the adult end of the line telling her how he'd rape her. The last straw on that particular issue was walking in on Kayla being instructed to fist herself to simulate the speaker's supposed cock. That was troubling not just for the instruction (which because Nicole arrived just in time, was never carried out, at least not live on phone) but for the fact that Nicole had screened the call before passing it to Kayla and been sure it was one of Kayla's cousins at first. Either someone had made Nicole's niece make the call and she turned it over to a pervert, or Kayla had used the phone access to call someone else after. Either option was disturbing enough that it ended the phone privileges entirely. That meant Kayla had to spend a lot of her time cut off from all human contact except her parents. She was like a princess locked up in a fairy tale castle, except in this case all the dragons were outside.

Even her father could only see her supervised, which wasn't entirely unfair, considering what happened when Lauren next showed up, while Nicole was taking Kayla to a doctor's appointment. Kayla's dirty blonde little friend and recent rapist had the nerve to come by the day after lesbian raping Walter's daughter to ask to retrieve something she left behind, something long and rubber and about yay-big. A normal fatherly reaction might have been to threaten police action, or attempt to morally educate the girl and explain why her behavior was unacceptable. Instead, Kayla's father simply made the little blonde preteen prove the black rubber cock she was looking for was hers, by inserting it all the way inside of her, first in her pussy and then in her ass, and, while it was in her ass, he stepped over another line and pushed the preteen down on her face and made use of her wet pussy and made it even wetter.

Now Walter might tell himself that he was just doing that to teach the girl a lesson, standing up for his daughter against the bullies who forced themselves on her, and he would eventually try telling others that story as well, but while he may have been thinking of his daughter when he filled that little girl's hairless pussy full of cum, and sent her home with it leaking out and the rubber penis still in her ass, the only way he was protecting Kayla was by getting certain urges out on somebody other than his own little girl.

So obviously, although he kept this secret from his wife (for a while), Nicole's motherly intuition that her husband couldn't be trusted alone with an easily rapeable little girl was accurate, and what's more, Walter was worse than useless at protecting her from other threats, at least after Lauren's dad confronted the man about what he'd done, and the fact that she was now pregnant with Walter's baby, and either of them could send him to jail with a simple DNA test... but Lauren's dad also told him, with a smile, that there was no reason for that to happen, and indeed Walter could keep raping the little slut, as long as he, in kind, promised to not stand in the way if Kayla's mom was distracted enough and a good rape opportunity presented itself with either or both. That didn't seem likely to happen anytime soon, as Mom and Grandma Martha were ever-vigilant, and little Kayla on lockdown, which made it easy to promise to get out of a police visit.

The whole situation was unsustainable long-term, everybody knew that, and Kayla's parents knew the best option was to move away, give her a fresh start, of sorts... they'd still have to keep an eye on Kayla, but at least wouldn't have to keep an eye on the whole town, if they only lived somewhere that nobody had heard her speech, but that presented its own difficulties. For a fresh start you need money they didn't have, it was all sunk up in the house. And that, they tried to sell, of course, right from the start, but everyone in town knew where the little rapebait girl lived, and every Open House concluded with the discovery of cum on Kayla's bed, usually pillow, and occasionally in her fresh underwear drawer. This was, of course, because the family typically leaves at an open house, something many visitors were disappointed to find out, especially because the first sign had been vandalized to say "Open Ho" and visitors felt it was a bait and switch to advertise that and then try to sell them an empty house. Every Open House also required a thorough round of motherly vigilance to check if somebody snuck in a cell phone or recording device or vibrator into Kayla's room, or hid in a closet under the bed for a good chance. This check was also not merely theoretical, although some of them took longer to locate than others. The electronics, that is... the men were found very quickly, to Kayla's disappointment, and all arrested except for one fourteen-year-old that they simply told on to his parents, thinking that was enough punishment. Eventually it just seemed easier to take the house off the market. The only offers they got for the property included unworkable stipulations, like that the buyer had to have a key and free access to every room of the house at any time up till the closing date, day or night, or that Kayla had to perform at a private party lasting an entire weekend. And even those offers were under the asking price. The market was rough on everybody, but especially on Kayla's family who were stuck with a rape-craving daughter in a nice house in a good town that seemed more and more interested in satisfying that craving.

I did just call it a good town, and I stand by that. I mean, it might seem from all this like this town was, is, a hellhole of debauchery, perverts on every corner, confident enough to attack in broad daylight, a danger to everybody. But that's not the case. All the town's open perversion and tolerance for such back then surrounded one little girl who had seemed to be asking for it, and what's more mostly trying in vain. Other than that... well, of course there was a seedy underside. Every town's got one. Sure, kids got molested, rapes happened, but they were no worse and handled with the same seriousness as they are in other towns (which sadly includes a lot of people not believing accusations, but you can hardly blame the town for a problem all of society has). There was just one collective blind spot, at first, anyway. The same types of protective men who, upon seeing a single man sitting on a park bench, would confront him, demand to see his phone to prove he wasn't a pervert taking pictures of little girls would shrug their shoulders and ignore shady people obviously following Kayla and her mother out in public. Mothers would give their sons speeches on respecting women and the importance of consent, then end it with, "Except Kayla, if you get a chance at that little slut, rape her all you want, just don't get caught." I dare say that if a man encountered a woman stumbling drunk and naked in the middle of the night, in our town, there would have been better than average odds that he'd give her the shirt off his back and escort her home unmolested... unless it was Kayla, in which case she'd get a little more than molested. It was downright weird... when it involved that one little girl, people got bold, or complacent, like they all knew that child was going to get raped and rather than dreading it, it seemed best to get it over with, make a game of it, at least among a small percentage of the population, and the rest of the town just looked the other way and went on as normal. At first.

Because that little girl may have been sequestered to protect the kids from her perverted and dangerous philosophy, but the damage was already done... a lot of them already heard it, including girls around her age or younger, and it slowly began to have an effect on the town, an effect that persists to this day. "I'm with Kayla" soon became a new slogan, worn first on t-shirts or buttons, though both of those were banned at school. Silicon gel wristbands with the slogan were eventually tolerated... once they got to the point of making those, the faculty had given up on trying to contain it, and you can hardly walk down the street without seeing at least a couple girls wearing them.

The slogan idea started with the high school girls, as something of a joke, at first, or at least that's what they told themselves, a way to get attention campaigning for something nobody should want. A couple weeks after the speech, a handful of girls came to school wearing "I'm With Kayla!" T-Shirts, and "Rape Me If You Dare" on the back. Caused quite a scandal, as you might expect.

One of the ringleaders of this plan, an artsy activist type named Patricia Harris, a girl who often wore baggy clothes to hide her body, left her hair a wild black mess rather than get it styled, and wore unflattering but functional glasses. Many people were convinced she was a lesbian, but as far as I saw she never dated at all. The girl got interviewed in the school paper about her stunt after she was suspended and she was unrepentant and determined to go right on wearing it, albeit not on school grounds. She said she thought it served as a beautiful commentary on how the patriarchy encourages women to become their worst negative stereotypes. Of course the administration swiftly banned the shirt and punished anyone who tried to wear it on school grounds, but nobody did anything else to Patricia, or the others at school. At first.

But you tempt fate enough, and fate will rape you, as the old saying goes. Or maybe that's a new saying, and it's only here people are saying it. Whatever the case, one day Patricia went missing coming home from school. Her parents were frantic, but she appeared a day later wearing nothing but the shirt, claiming rape, that she couldn't see the faces of the men (plural) who took her but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of making her stop her political statement, she was going to keep wearing the shirt whenever she could.

At the behest of her parents, the shirt got replaced with a more subtle button that ditched the "rape me" line and just said "I'm With Kayla!" What was less subtle was the way Patricia started steadily improving her appearance, doing her hair and makeup with a fastidiousness she would have mocked earlier, showing off her body with skirts and shirts that got shorter and shorter with every rape. Did I leave that out? Yeah, she kept getting raped, obviously, and kept telling everything but the names to anyone who'd listen, and after a few she was skirting the school dress code and seemed to be deliberately dressing like a bimbo to encourage more. You'd think her experiences would put a stop to the whole shirts and buttons idea, but the truth was, many just thought she wasn't really being raped, she was just a garden-variety slut using an excuse. Maybe you think so too, but you'd be wrong, she said 'no' every time, or at least the time I was present for. But I can understand why girls didn't believe her word, with the way she was dressing more and more like a slut, and started demanding teachers call her Trish instead of Pat for short, then Cumsponge Trish, but when they balked at that she insisted her name was now Tiffany, because Tiffany was a name that told everybody you weren't useful as anything other than being a human cocksleeve anyway (which of course, sparked a bitter rivalry with Tiffany Pryce, but that was a conventional teen girl rivalry and included only a few arranged rapes on either side so rather than go on a tangent I will leave that story for another day). She'd hardly be the first girl who got cock-drunk and started organizing her life around that need and maybe that's partly true, but what she craved wasn't just sex, but specifically rape. She really was like Kayla, she turned down anyone who asked, she just wanted to be held down and forced to be some man's sexual outlet. All of that might seem like a total rejection of her earlier ideals, but Trish, or Tiffany now, hadn't changed completely... she still was interested in social justice, she just expressed that by trying to arrange more black and Asian men, or trans men or girls or anyone other than white cishet men, to rape her. Sure, white guys still did, because a woman can't always control who rapes her (not to mention that although the town may not be all white, it's not the most diverse either), but she can make it easy and pleasurable for some more than others, and she always made sure to take a morning-after pill if a white guy had raped her. And she was still a firm opponent of police brutality, particularly against blacks but against anybody unless it was police brutally raping her teen pussy... that she would be okay with, though she'd probably berate them for abusing their power while they did it.

Because the other girls thought 'Trishany' was just a dumb slut, or on the road to that, the "I'm With Kayla" buttons grew in popularity despite the potential consequences, which were attributed more to the shirt's provocative "rape me if you dare" addition... kids assumed with the subtler messaging they could always explain to a creeper that they didn't really want rape, they just supported Kayla emotionally. But wearing the buttons... they were a good way of getting attention, some from other sluts-in-hiding who wanted sexual attention rather than actual rape, some as a way to mock Patricia-Tiffany (who, despite multiple people wearing the shirts, seemed to be the only one to get raped for it at first), some still believing in the original stated purpose to make a statement against the patriarchy, and some just thumbing their noses at authority in general. Eventually the faculty caught up, and (after the first on-campus rape, where Trish, now Tiffany, was found in the boy's bathroom unconscious and covered in cum), the buttons were banned too.

It's hard to keep a good trend down, though, and within a few days of the ban (maybe even before it) the wristbands started appearing. Don't ask me who made them... or who ordered them, anyway. They were made in bulk from an internet order, just little pink silicone bracelets saying "I'm with Kayla." Tiffany was one of the ones handing them out (which Tiffany, I'm not entirely sure of, I wasn't around those weeks and my sources are confused... it might even have been both) but who initiated the order, I've never been able to figure out. But they sure got around.

High school girls... the sluts, the mockers, and the true believers, simply replaced one type of subversive signal with another, and even if they didn't agree on exactly what they were signaling, at least believing they were pulling one over on adults, a nice side benefit. The middle school girls, though, they mostly took it unironically, at first, probably because many of the ones who took on the cause didn't really understand exactly what they were advertising, they really thought they were giving moral support to Kayla, wanting her back at school as a friend they missed, rather than actually saying they agreed with her ideas that raping was natural and the best kind of sex. Not all of them, the ones with sexual experience, like the girls who raped Kayla personally, they knew the deal and some were all for it as long as they could pretend they didn't get it, use the excuse that they couldn't expect to be actually raped.

And indeed, it being a good town, nobody was raped, save Trishany. At first. But when that dam burst, first it started as a trickle, then became a flood. Uses of the little pink bracelet after the next cluster of rapes, targeting a variety of different girls with only the bracelet in common, shot way down.

Then their popularity began to trickle up again.

Even at this stage, I must point out, rapes were rare. Just sex was rare for the younger set. We are, as I said, a good town, and not everyone has the stomach for rape, and certainly not to rape a child. Me, personally, I can't claim I'm completely innocent, or that I don't have tastes for younger stuff than I should, but I abhor rape and couldn't possibly bring myself to rape a girl, unless I was certain she really wanted it, and even then, I wouldn't go any younger than the age where, from a lot of observational experience, people can reason like adults if they actually choose to, which is fifteen. Except for Kayla. I'd have raped that little darling preteen slut if I just had a few unobserved seconds to snatch her off the street. And maybe a few similar exceptional candidates, but on the whole, I'd refuse sex with an underage girl even if offered. I don't think I'm unusual in that level of moral fiber either, which is why rapes were rare, at first. It was just a few people doing it, and only a few girls getting it. Often the most attractive, which often meant the most popular, which is probably what made the wristbands popular again after the initial fear ran out. It was just a small group at first, but the bands became a hip thing to wear again once the popular girls started trading their rape stories in gossip sessions at school that faculty sometimes heard and often pretended they didn't because they were a little disturbing. They were half-gossip sessions, focusing on lurid details told with visible excitement both from listeners and speakers, and half-tips about who would take advantage of a girl. Reverend Chapman was quickly learned to be someone you could go to if you wanted to be molested, a slow ramp-up that would lead to a rape if you kept seeing him, and the number of girls who did soon reignited his faith in God, albeit a very different God than the one he had originally imagined calling him to the clergy.

It started getting really out of control when girls began proudly and brazenly using it as a reason to get out of handing in an assignment or taking a test they hadn't prepared for. "I can't, I just got raped yesterday," is an excuse that's hard to deny, as long as the girl's willing to go into details in front of the class (which never included the identity of the perpetrators, although sometimes that could be figured out from where it happened). It became even more of a perverse incentive because everyone believed the excuse was probably true, on some level, of the wristband-wearers, but girls who tried to use that excuse without wearing one stopped being believed, unless, sometimes, they were willing to submit to very public in-class inspections to prove that their holes had been violated (in retrospect, that might have been a mistake, but administration let it slide). So if you wanted a ready-made excuse to get out of your schoolwork when you needed it, taking the band, and risking the rapes that came with it, became the price you paid. And it was a risk many took, actual rapes still being rare then. Many of those who cried rape to get out of schoolwork were almost certainly making things up. At first. But only certain types of stories could get your out of an assignment, the type where guys just grabbed you and you couldn't see who it was, the real gossip sessions were a lot more exciting as the popular girls, the ones who got raped breathlessly swapped stories of bigger and better rapes often from people everyone knew.

Not all their stories were true either, mind you, especially not the part about being forced... Chapman might have only needed a few girls pushing him into it before he started to seek out any girl with a wristband for private spiritual counseling, but some other men had standards. Kids exaggerate, if not outright lie, and you know, let's be honest, the definition of rape here is kind of fundamentally iffy. When a girl announces she wants to be raped, wears a bright pink wristband to that effect, dresses slutty to show off as much skin as she can get away with, finds excuse after excuse to be alone with men who might do it, tugs on the bracelet in front of them to make sure they see it, snaps it against her skin a few times if that doesn't work, and gets wet as fuck when one's cock pushes its way inside, sure, let's call it rape if she at least half-heartedly says 'no' when he finally pushes her into a wall and starts removing her panties. But when a girl pulls her skirt up, gets down on all fours and points her naked ass at the school janitor after hours, and claims she just fell down, then asks if he can help her up, then asks him not to touch her with his grubby janitor's hands, he should use his cock, it's hard to take what happens next seriously as a forcible rape no matter how Becky Lowenthal tried to spin it later.

Nor, as I understand, did little Dina Lopez really get raped by the football team of the nearby college... she simply took a bus down there, snuck into the locker room, stripped down to nothing but her wristband, waited for the first team to come in and said she'd do anything for one of the team's towels, but no, there was no whole-team gangbang on that eleven-year-old, they shooed her out of there and gave her a ride home and only the two that drove her took turns fucking her in the back seat in the driveway of her place to kill time until someone got home and they wouldn't have to worry about leaving her unsupervised. She got her towel though, which let her brag about more than she (probably) did.

And though Tina Williams did get raped by Missy Robertson's brother Josh, for real, with only the presence of the wristband and a few minutes alone the morning after a sleepover, it took Missy crying for an hour at how if he was going to rape her friend he needed to rape her too before Josh finally gently held her down and slowly worked his dick inside her and, after a lot of prompting from Tina to do it "harder", dumped his first incestuous load.

You could hardly call that rape, but she did, and it was the first incestuous rape to get bragged about, at least in the immediate family. Uncles, cousins, grandfathers, sure... occasionally the Kayla supporters talked about that, but that hardly counted, immediate family was something new, because they had constant access. A lucky girl could be at risk for a rape all night every night, a perfect excuse to get out of homework any day you needed, if they just lied about where it happened and showed the teacher the cum stains in the morning.

Of course even if you consider it rape (and you might, of the statutory kind, since he was a college student at the time) Josh raping his twelve-year-old-sister was hardly the first in-home incest rape to happen (remember Lauren, after all and her suspicious knowledge of her father's cock size)... it was just the one that opened the Kayla supporters eyes to some of the possibilities and let some rapes come out of the closet.

But this kind of stuff was still pretty rare, and a lot of made-up stories were competing with the real ones, and, kids being kids, a lot of gossip about who was doing the raping was also made up, leading to some fine respectable boys who were still in fact virgins, being given the reputation for being insatiable rape-monsters.

That was when the High School Rape Club formed, and where things really exploded in popularity. Of course, it wasn't called that, you could never get administration approval for that club (at least, official administration approval), but at a meeting of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, some of the more bold rapists got together with some of the unjustly accused and started sharing stories of their own, and collectively decided, fuck it, if bitches wanted to be raped, they were going to be raped. Masturbation was a sin too, so why masturbate when there were enough girls asking for it that you could just grab one and have some fun every time you got a boner? They formed the Huntsmen Club, ostensibly a club to talk about hunting and other outdoorsy activities, and sometimes they did talk about that, but mostly what they were hunting was rape victims. They got a faculty sponsor who agreed with their real mission and held after school meetings, eventually to brag and trade tips, share pictures and videos, and often to drag a girl to for a gang rape, but at first to agree to certain core issues, like what constituted 'fair game.'

For all that they were conservative in their origins, they were also remarkably egalitarian about that. They didn't care if you were a lesbian, straight, or trans in heart but not yet allowed to have surgery, as long as you had a pussy between your legs and wore a pink wristband or gave some other unambiguous signal that you wanted rape, they would rape you. A few even only required an asshole and some gays and trans girl students did don the wristband and find out the town was a lot less conservative than they always believed, at least behind closed doors. In fact, what had formerly been only one openly trans girl in town soon became about a dozen, all of them firm, band-wearing Kayla supporters, and somewhat convenient rape targets thanks to the school district's regressive policy requiring them to use the boy's bathroom and locker rooms. The trans men only tripled in number, but some of them got a lot of action for similar reasons, at least when they found out about the club and joined in.

Fair game also didn't worry overly about age, just what they called "sustainable hunting," which meant that making sure a victim was still available for raping by other Huntsmen... if a girl was so little that you'd send her to the hospital by raping her, or caused her to go crying to her parents who blew the whole deal, you're not being a good hunter, wristband or no wristband. Being attentive to particular rape victim's needs was also highly recommended, some girls liked to be held down, some wanted to be free to play games or text on their phone while the rape happens (if you had the right type of rapist, being rape-bait was a good hobby for that, not requiring your full attention), some appreciated a couple bills thrown on them, sticking to their cum-stained body, after a particularly enjoyable rape (for the rapists). This wasn't thought of like they were being paid for the sex, since then prostitution wasn't rape at all, but just like a nice, optional, tip for a rape victim being compliant, a tip which might pay for a morning-after pill if the girl was worried about that, or prenatal vitamins, or makeup or saved for college, depending on the girl, but mostly because it encouraged such good behavior with future rapists, and of course not to snitch, except gossiping among wristband wearers and potentially future wristband-wearers, which was fine as long as it was complimentary.

After the first few meetings of the Huntsmen, a lot more of the rape stories turned out to be true, and a lot more girls were having them, and that the club got away with it so often encouraged more and more people outside the club to target the town's girls. That was when rape really started to become a town epidemic, though it still all happened slowly enough that a lot of people didn't notice until it got really bad.

Some clung to the idea that it wasn't a rape epidemic, it was just an underage sex epidemic. You could argue of course, and some did, that the rapes weren't really rapes, because the supposed victims chose it to happen by wearing the wristband in the first place. That was in fact argued successfully in court, several times... the judge instructed them that legally it was not a defense, at least not in cases of statutory rape of minors, but jury nullification definitely played a role in many cases, defendants getting off once it was proved that the victim wore a "I'm With Kayla" wristband and implicitly invited it, even if she was nine years old. Perhaps "jury of one's peers" may not have been the best idea after all, at least not in a town where many of the peers wanted their own shot at Kayla, or those who followed her, and with the election of a new judge partway through the scandal who was sympathetic to the requests by the juries to 'inspect' the victim like she was any other piece of evidence. Jury members privately interviewing a witness is unheard of in law, but that new judge ruled that as long as a girl didn't talk, it didn't count as testimony, and they could make sure her mouth was too full to talk. The judge's ruling was unorthodox but limited in scope, and allowed local juries merely to examine relevant matters of fact to determine whether a rape occurred and how severe it had been. For example, they were instructed that they could explore issues like "does she still have a hymen?", "how wet did her pussy get while stroked?", "how easily does her asshole and pussy accommodate one cock after another?", and "how long did it take between dumping loads inside her and loads no longer visibly leaking out?" (which helped narrow down if she had multiple partners that day and if there were any unindicted co-conspirators) but not anything irrelevant like "does she like to get spanked or pissed on during sex?" unless that was a component of the alleged crime itself. Juries often became divided on the issue of whether a girl was asking for it, Twelve Angry Men style, requiring extended deliberations, even though, in the end, they tended to agree. I'm not even going to make the obvious hung jury joke. Few rape trials ever ended in convictions for someone wearing a pink wristband, and double jeopardy applied so, legally speaking, no rape occurred in those cases at all.

Of course, even if you took that theory that inviting a rape wasn't rape, real rapes did occur. They always had before the wristbands, and although the availability of easy-access rape-bait lowered the numbers, it didn't eliminate the phenomenon completely... some guys just got impatient at waiting for particular girls to don the bracelet, and decided they could slip it on her wrist after the fact and leave her cum-covered and worn out in front of the Sherriff's office so he could later testify she was wearing it when she was found. Some wore it only on a dare, only to find the ones who made the dare got a lot more daring with a girl with a pink band on her wrist, other girls were tricked into wearing one without knowing what it meant, a trick particularly employed to haze new girls (at least one of who started out as a new boy). And there were some genuine misunderstandings, or at least claimed misunderstandings, where someone raped a girl who they thought was advertising for it, assuming the "#MeToo" shirt they were wearing was asking for the same treatment as too many other girls in town were getting, rather than the exact opposite, or seeing a pink bracelet on a wrist and only finding out after the rape that it wasn't a "I'm with Kayla" wristband but rather a bracelet supporting, say, breast cancer research, or, occasionally, outright mistaking one girl for another.

One thirteen-year-old girl was raped by her twin sister that way... not directly, but merely by proxy. See, Layla McCarthy wore the pink band and enthusiastically took a rape on a daily basis, while her sister Lorelei didn't, but... they were identical twins, both with pretty red hair and pale, freckled skin, often dress alike save for the wristband, and people who've raped you once usually assume that if you strut boldly by them like you don't know who they are that you're basically just asking for it again, especially if they don't know you have a twin. A lot of people even started to think that Lorelei wanted the rapes too, just she wanted them more realistic and craved the humiliation of the in-class rape inspections when she needed an extension on an assignment because of one. I can't speak to that, you never know what's inside someone's head, but I do know that if you rape each of the twins a few times you can tell them apart... not just by their reaction once you get your cock in, either, although that's a dead giveaway as well. I know what you're thinking, she's not even fourteen, much less fifteen, but I swear, I only know from the trial, I happened to be on the jury (civic duty happens to be very important to me), and we did an extensive review of the evidence, deliberating overnight, and eventually it became pretty clear... Lorelei's got more ass-freckles, so you can stop before actual rape occurs, if you're really going to hold firm to the Huntsmen Code. But I can understand the mistake for first-timers, and there was no evidence that the accused raped both of them regularly enough to make that distinction, and that's why we voted to acquit. Mistakes happened, and it just didn't seem just to ruin a man's life over a simple cast of mistaken identity.

It got even easier to make mistakes like that once the wristbands stopped being the only clear signifier that a girl wanted to be raped. Kaitlyn Walsh was responsible for the first of these, and while a heartfelt desire to be held down and raped by strangers may have been part of the reason she did what she did, a lot of us think it was mostly envy. See, before Kayla made her speech, Kaitlyn was probably the most well-known little girl in town, thanks to her modeling career. Most folks didn't know her name, but they recognized her on sight from flyers, and the commercial from the local car dealership, and a few others from the nearest big city that aired frequently, including a Mattress Warehouse that she was the face of. Granted, this was all small-time stuff, but, in a small-time town, it counted as celebrity. Before Kayla burst into prominence, if you took a poll and asked people which underage girl they most wanted for a little bit of naughty sexual fun, and instead of rounding up a mob they somehow answered honestly, she'd have won by a majority. Golden blonde locks, angelic face and a tiny lithe body with, at just thirteen, already softball-sized, perfectly proportioned little titties that hid easily under clothes if a job needed the little-girl-look but really looked great in a bikini for an glossy advertisement. Before Kayla the biggest gossip among the dirty old men was the rumors that there was an accidental Kaitlyn nipslip that didn't make the final flyer. Plenty of casual inquiries were made, but either it was a myth or the photographer was very selfish. Just the rumor though probably inspired more than a few masturbation sessions. And she knew it too, the effect she had on men, reveled in it, so it must have stung to see a new girl, two years younger, suddenly getting all of the attention she had come to expect as her due. She was the middle school queen, dethroned in her final year and feeling herself becoming more and more irrelevant as the art of the tease was giving way to the art of just letting someone know they can rape you with no consequences. Early on, she confidently told people "I'd never wear one of those ugly wristbands" in the hopes of stopping the trend with her displeasure, only to find it growing despite her.

So, Kaitlyn must have decided, "Okay, the rules have changed, I'll beat this little upstart tart at her own game." She prided herself on seeing the next big trend, and if that trend was rape, she was determined that she would be the face of rape, not Kayla. She kept her vow not to take the wristband. But she did start advertising herself as prime rape meat in her own rights.

Now this was during the time when the Huntsmen were just getting going, and they were responsible for most of the rapes that deserved the label. They and some of the bolder adults, sure, although most of the people inclined to rape a middle schooler were still trying to crack the Kayla problem, and the ones who simply weren't picky were focusing on the high school girls. Middle school girls, outside of family, it was mostly by the Huntsmen, and while tweens seemed to find it flattering to have high school boys drag you off to their clubhouse after a boring day of school, it was still pretty rare. Most just wore the wristband for the excitement, the opportunity for an excuse to get out of a boring test or assignment if they needed it and to take advantage of the fact that the administration generally didn't enforce dress codes on wristband wearers (at least not to the same standards).

Kaitlyn, she tried to get the attention of the Huntsmen with short skirts, but without a flash of pink on her wrist, they barely even looked twice at her, so she finally took drastic measures, filming a video on her phone, a video of her on her bed, smiling face and golden hair, then panning down to reveal her naked breasts and pussy, and then, selfie-style, showing off how she could fit a big cock in that pussy, demonstrating with a very phallic hammer handle (making her video probably the best ad the local hardware store ever had, and they didn't even have to pay her). That hammer made a big impression on the watchers, showing off not only how her tight little pussy lips could handle something that size (maybe not comfortably but at least stretching without apparent difficulty), but also revealing that this was not the first time she'd had something up there. Not that anybody expected much--thirteen-year-olds can be sexually active, and there were plenty of rumors about some of her jobs coming from playing the casting couch game (which is real even for minors competing for low-level commercials, although I can't be certain Kaitlyn got any of hers that way)--but it's one thing to wonder, another thing to know. Some of us who aren't Huntsmen still consider "fair game" to not include being a girl's first time, but if she's already had it, by fair means or foul, at least you're not really corrupting any innocence unless you're pushing her into really kinky shit. And that, too, she seemed to be pushing herself into, because what made far more of an impression than the sight of that hammer handle disappearing inside, and demonstrating the capabilities of, her fuck-hole, was what she did while she masturbated. She whispered, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough that a parent couldn't, even in the next room, "No, please, you can't, you have to stop, I'm only thirteen, you could get me pregnant, please no!" And that same acting acumen that convinced people this thirteen-year-old-girl really wanted a used car from our local dealership was put to use simultaneously sounding like a girl who was being raped and a girl who should not be listened to when she said 'no' because she wanted it anyway. That's a hard nuance to get across if you don't mean it.

After a minute or two of vivid self-rape, the camera moving back and forth between closeups of her shaved cunt slurping on that handle and her distressed-seeming face, she pulled out, smiled, and said, "That could be you if you've got the balls. Just make sure you film it so I can show others what a good rape victim I make, far better than that tease Kayla," and followed that up with a listing of her upcoming schedule and where she could be most easily raped.

It was a bold play, hell, just making the video was bold, much less sending it to all she did. That's a confident girl, or maybe a girl used to performing on demand who will do anything to steal the spotlight.

It backfired on her though... or maybe she liked how it worked out in the end, but from my perspective, it was a huge waste, just because of some bad luck. See, a lot of us were considering raping her... even though we were interested in Kayla more now, she had made a compelling case for herself and those old fantasies were a powerful lure (she's also not yet fifteen, but she's one of those rare exceptions that would make me bend my moral code). If we'd moved a little faster, she might have eclipsed Kayla and truly become the face of rape.

Unfortunately, when Kaitlyn did get raped for the first time, she got raped by a black guy. Now, I'm no racist, I've got black friends, I try to treat every kid the same no matter what their race, and hell, my sweet little niece is biracial and I love her to bits. In my book, blacks have exactly as much right to rape little girls who secretly want it as white guys do, but when I watched the next video to come from Kaitlyn, my heart sank to see her struggling with one dark hand pushing her down as a long black cock pushed its way inside her, Kaitlyn once again whispering, "no, please, you can't," as her rapist used her own phone to film himself penetrating her, waist down only, because he was committing a felony, but one neither side seemed to really mind. My heart sinking was first just from "damn, someone else got there first" and a little from "that cock's way bigger than mine." Let's not have any racist bullshit about her, a little white girl, being 'ruined' by having sex with a black man... only idiots believe that, and I've had sex with many girls who've been with blacks. Tiffany (Trish, I mean, I've never gotten around to the other one even after she started wearing the wristband) had been with a few by the time I'd been with her, and hell, one of my fellow jurors in the McCarthy rape trial was black and we inspected the evidence together and I'm sure at least once I had my cock in either Layla or Lorelei while she was still dripping with his cum (I can't recall which, and again, it was solely out of civic responsibility and diligent consideration of the evidence in the interests of assuring the defendant got a fair trial, but that didn't mean we couldn't also get off on the pursuit of justice). It's not about the color of the guy to rape her first... we all cum the same color, regardless of our skin. The problem was only because he was the one to play the race card, he made it an issue, just as he was really getting into the rape of adorable little Kaitlyn, he began to talk, forced her to admit on camera that she loved black cock, to beg him to rape a black baby in her. It was all "you repeat what I tell you to" type talk, while he pulled her hair and worked up to leaving a load of evidence inside of her, and her repeating it the kind of thing a rape victim might do just to survive, regardless of whether or not she enjoyed it. Nobody blamed her for it, and even those idiots who might have held it against her probably still would have raped her, given the chance. More likely to, now that she'd been successfully raped. Caution often wins out the first time a girl gets raped, especially in those early days... the prevailing feeling was, let someone bolder take the risk, wait a few days, and if the little girl or one of her overprotective parents doesn't call the police then you can be a little more confident they won't do it the next time, either, or the time after that.

Except, of course, Kaitlyn wasn't just after rapes for her own pleasure, she was trying to dethrone Kayla, start a brand for rape and banish those pink silicone bracelets to whatever dump yesterday's fads go in. To do that, she needed more than just a hot video of her own rape experience, she needed to get someone else raped with her brand. That's where Grace Lo came in. If Kaitlyn was middle school queen, Grace was her lady-in-waiting. Never likely to be queen herself, but the closest thing to a best friend you can get when the queen also gives you orders. Which isn't to say Grace was ugly. No, she was pretty, too, maybe not as pretty as Kaitlyn, depending on your tastes... her glasses and slightly pug nose could either be adorable or push her into the category of 'plain girl'. She was also taller at the same age as Kaitlyn... in fact, probably taller than most girls in her class. People often say Asians look younger but because of her height, if I didn't already know she was thirteen, I would have pegged Grace at maybe sixteen, despite her fine black hair often being tied up in long pigtails and her much flatter chest. Boobs aren't everything of course, and she had fine legs and a pert little ass. She was something to watch to anyone attending middle school basketball games, she just instinctively knows how to keep balls dribbling. I understand she also is pretty good at the game.

Kaitlyn pretty well owned Grace, in the way kids sometimes dominate each other socially. If Kaitlyn took a dislike to one of Grace's friends, Grace would have to drop them. If Kaitlyn didn't do her homework, Grace let her copy. The biggest surprise for some students when Kaitlyn's 'rape me' advertisement came out wasn't that she'd done it, but that Grace wasn't the one working the hammer in and out while Kaitlyn just enjoyed it to focus on her 'acting.' So, of course, Grace could never take the pink wristband, because Kaitlyn publicly swore it off... or maybe she genuinely didn't want to, it's hard to say. But we do know that when Kaitlyn asked it of her, Grace started wearing a choker that said, "Rape Bait Like Kait," which was a pretty catchy slogan, and an effective one at that. I saw her with it the first day, tugging on the new choker, looking adorably nervous either that someone would take her up on it or that she'd get in trouble with the school administration for a sign more blatant than had been allowed before. She didn't get in trouble at school. But before long, there was another video making the rounds, this one of Grace, with two black men, heads out of frame, one thrusting his cock in her pussy, the other guiding her head to slobber over his huge rod. It looked like this wasn't her first rape, she was naked except for the collar, glasses missing, her hair was disheveled, only one pigtail remaining tied, skin slick with sweat or other fluids, her mascara running like she'd been crying but the tears had dried in favor of grim acceptance of her new role, moaning as her tongue ran up and down a black dick. She looked like only after a couple hours of rape did they finally decide to film it. Or maybe they only wanted to start when she was good and compliant, mind broken by forced rape-induced orgasms until she cared more about pleasing them than whatever happened to her. Like with Kaitlyn, the men asked Grace if she loved black cock, and just nodding wasn't good enough, she had to put her tongue back in her mouth long enough to say it in those words. But they went farther, after one cum inside her pussy and moved off, the other one, the one she'd been using her mouth on, tugged on the choker that advertised her rapeability and said, "I like your collar here. Does this mean you're ready to commit to being a rape toy for black men only, just like her?" Grace nodded, but he wanted a firmer commitment, so he told her, "Say it. Tell everyone only black men can rape you, and then they can watch me rape your little fuck-hole." He handed the girl her glasses, which had a dried stream of cum from some earlier degradation we never got to see, so she could see she was on camera, and Grace wiped her mouth for a second, and said, "Only black men can rape me," and, after a little further prompting, added, "Just like Kait," then spread her pussy lips and let some cum leak out and another round of rape started, which, though entertaining to watch, was tinged by a little bit of sadness at lost opportunities.

Now, Kait had never formally declared herself black-only rape-bait, but her friend doing it for her seemed to connect her brand to that idea, not just in the mind of the rapists but everyone. I don't think Grace was trying to sabotage her, but simply thought that was Kait wanted (though you never know, maybe the meek little girl just had enough of being pushed around and chose her moment for a little payback). Suddenly she and everyone else she'd convinced to wear her brand on the choker (and there were a few others before the video leaked) were considered 'off-limits' to anyone but the African-American population, and not just for rape but for any sex. A choker-girl could have a white boyfriend, as long as they were strictly celibate and he didn't try to interfere if a qualified black cock wanted to force itself into one of her holes and dump a load of cum. Anyone who tried to break those rules was beaten up, often on video as a warning to others, and it only took a couple warnings before most people respected the choker's new, secondary meaning.

From what I understand, Kaitlyn was very disappointed by this development. At first. But then she decided, when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade, and if life hands you black cocks, well, you might as well squeeze on them till you get all the juice out anyway. More accurately, she realized that her chokers weren't displacing the bracelets, but they were developing their own following, and, if you can't be the brand everyone thinks of, almost as good is to be the brand everyone thinks of for one particular niche. Like sure, everyone wants to be Walmart but if you can't, being Whole Foods is pretty good because you can capture the market of people who are willing to pay far too much for allegedly healthier stuff. Kaitlyn was the go-to name on everybody's lips for black-owned rape-whores, so she decided to run with it, work a spade logo on the choker and go for that market full throated. But for the rest of us, it was a god-damn tragedy to have some of the finest underage pussy in town unavailable unless you want a beating. I mean, there were plenty of other girls as good or better not wearing the choker, so I suppose I'm not too upset over it, but I tell you, letting them have a few prime-quality underage rape whores like Kaitlyn and Grace exclusively theirs had better, finally, totally square whites and blacks for the whole centuries of slavery thing. If you ask me, we're even now.

As sore as I am over it, I totally did not support the response a few days later, those red hats that were supposed to reserve girls for only white rapists. We're a good town but we have our share of racist fucks and that was all their idea. Not that it worked. I mean at this point wearing one of their red hats basically gets the girls wearing it raped by every non-white who gets a chance at them, and ensures they drop the load right in their pussies to breed a biracial baby. In fact, I'd say it's up in the air about which group's going to have more of those, Kait's Black Rape Bait or the Red Hat Girls. Former Red Hat Girls, I mean... you don't see much of them anymore, a lot of them crossed over either to the wristbands or to the chokers formally, maybe because nobody got beaten up for violating the red hat rule except a few skinheads who tried to stop it. And nothing of value was lost. I don't believe any race is superior to any other (even that cock-size thing is mostly a myth, though some of the blacks in our town are at the very high end of the average), but if one was, those guys obsessed with white superiority have never been our best examples.

A few other attempted rape-niches got set up, but honestly it was hard to keep track of too many, which meant most died out... I remember one which was supposed to signify certain straight girls as a being a willing forced-pussy slave to other girls only, which might still be going (it's a piercing, and hard to see unless you're in a change room or gym shower with one, or, in my case, have a niece willing to show just once to explain to me why she can't put on a simple pink wristband, not all the time, just while hanging out with her uncle, for funsies... but no, apparently since she took the piercing she's only allowed to taste cum if it's in another girl's pussy... one of the few such signals you're not allowed to take off once you make the choice, apparently until marriage). And there was also a signal that was supposed to signify a guy's willingness to be raped by a girl... it was called having a penis and not being gay. I kid, a little (asexuality is valid if a bit perplexing to me, and male rape is a serious issue), but I'm pretty sure that no girl in our town ever raped a guy wearing the signal begging for it. Even the girls that were a little more into being dominant (and there are plenty) found that a little too pathetic for their tastes.

Mostly, it was just the pink Kayla wristbands that people saw, not for every girl, not even a majority, but a solid minority of girls who became well-known about town, and Kait's Rape Bait pulling up a distant second.

I've seen some strange fads in my day, but this has definitely been the strangest. I mean, it's rape, right? Sort of, at least. The idea should be terrifying to kids, not a trend. The perks alone can't explain all the girls flocking to it, if they didn't like it you think they'd stop after their first rape. And sure, some girls are just after sex, and are calling it rape to be cool, but even if that's your goal you usually only want it with people you choose, not letting anyone choose you. Some of these girls do seem to try to catch the eye of more attractive rapists, but there are some men who are ugly, old, or fat, doing raping too, and women, and the With Kaylas don't seem to complain no matter who decides to use them (sometimes I hear some complaining about small cocks, but even then it's more mocking than complaint), and the Like Kaits only discriminate on race. The only thing I can think of to explain it is the idea that the fad managed to turn rape from something to be feared, some abstract life-destroying menace threatening to hit you at any time, to a known quantity, a part of life everyone goes through, some multiple times. If you wear a wristband, you don't have to worry you might be raped... you only have to wonder when, who, and how good it'll be. Once you decide to accept rape, invite it, advertise for it, rape becomes almost a game, an exciting game, a little naughty and with some surprising amounts of pleasure, at least with the right rapist. Even girls who don't take the wristband and get raped for one reason or another because of a mistake or sheer desire, those girls can take comfort in the knowledge that what they're experiencing is something a lot of girls enjoy and invite, and it doesn't ruin those girls, so somehow it's not as traumatic when somebody grabs them and forces a cock into their pussy or asshole or mouth. A rape, whether advertised-for or not, might wind up being a lot of fun, or it might be painful and humiliating, but either way it's an intense experience, the kind that makes you feel alive, like a roller coaster... and unlike one of those, you might even get a nice tip afterward! You don't have to worry about being seriously hurt or killed, because virtually nobody has been since the trend began, and there's no shame attached anymore because it's popular as long as you don't snitch. Take your rape like a champ, and you might even be praised by other girls you respect for being 'savage AF.' Or maybe the rapist is described that way, or the rape itself. I'm not sure how the slang works, but either way it's considered a badge of honor to be raped, even if you don't take the wristband permanently. So I guess the fad almost makes sense on that level.

You might legitimately wonder about how parents allowed this to go on, though. The town's collective abandonment of eleven-year-old Kayla as inevitable rape meat is one thing, but once a significant number of other girls started getting involved, you'd think they'd take action. Okay, sure, men are pigs and can often be ruled by their dicks so maybe the rapists don't need to be explained, but most men are protective around their own little girls at least. How could so many people, mothers especially, turn their head and ignore their own children getting raped? Metaphorically turn their head and ignore it, I mean, by not taking the appropriate precautions, although sometimes it was quite literally mothers turning their head to ignore as somebody raped their pink-band-wearing preteen daughter in a movie theater beside them or while supposedly supervising them at a playground or beach or something, and sometimes not even literally turning their head to ignore it, but watching, giving suggestions, masturbating, or even filming and participating, helping their daughter only to the extent of temporarily occupying, with fingers, tongue, or dripping wet pussy one hole that might otherwise be used by another rapist's cock. I mean, that happened, although it was extremely rare. At first.

But, at first, this phenomenon was discreet enough that it was easy to pretend it wasn't happening, and at first not even to pretend. Kids wear stretchy silicone bracelets and chokers all the time, for all sorts of things, even just fashion, so I can totally understand, at first, parents not noticing what the pink one around their little girl's wrists was advertising. But outright obliviousness about what the various signifiers meant only held for so long, and especially when girls wore chokers saying 'Rape Bait Like Kait' you'd have to think mothers would try to stop it. Not Kait's mom, Georgia, obviously... she was the one who had the chokers made and got a cut from every one sold, also deciding to make the best she could of things after being initially disappointed in how circumstances limited Kait to black rapists. From what I know of her, Georgia didn't just support her daughter trying to become the face of rape, she jumped on the initial seed of Kaitlyn's jealousy, nurtured it, made pointed comments to lead her daughter into coming up with the idea of stealing Kayla's spotlight, strategized with her on how, coached her through the video, provided the hammer and then pointedly left her unsupervised for the next few days to let nature take its course, although I bet she was picturing a more diverse set of rapists. Georgia was probably a sick perverted fuck in her own right, getting off on risking her own daughter (I knew her when she was younger, and it would not surprise me), but I think a bigger part of her motivation was simply to enhance her daughter's modeling and acting career... casting directors knowing they could rape little Kait had to give her more work, even in just the low-visibility but highly-paid field of private fuck videos that could lead to more legitimate opportunities like TV or movie roles. That plan might even have been successful if not for Grace declaring herself and Kait as black-owned... there aren't a lot of black casting directors in our area, and the white ones didn't want to risk a beating. But like her daughter, Georgia rolled with the punches, embraced the niche, even started wearing the choker herself. They go out for a lot of rap videos now, weekend long shoots that pay well even if most of Kait's scenes (and Grace's, and a few other girls that Georgia is now the agent/manager for) end up on the cutting room floor. But Georgia's not the best example of parenthood... she was always a little off, probably because she had Kait so young... it's normal, everyday parents I'm talking about here, the kind who have family dinners and go to the PTA, the good salt-of-the-earth type that makes us such a good town, all things considered.

So how could normal parents, teachers, bystanders let this go on?

I think that all goes back to Kayla. See, as I said, most of the town wrote her off, before the wristband nonsense started, decided to ignore what happened to her because "she asked for it," even root for it to happen. Problem is, once you've made that leap, to allow an eleven-year-old to get raped because she clearly wants it... well, it's like eating that first bacon cheeseburger. You're sure as hell no vegan anymore, and maybe you felt a little guilty because you loved it so much, so what do you do when another comes along, or a burger joint opens up near you? You make the same moral compromises. So when other girls started advertising "I'm with Kayla" most people put them in the same category they consigned that little girl to, now that the category existed. For other people's kids, at least.

For the kids you genuinely care about, you wanted to protect them... but let's think about how you do that, for something like this? Once you know the wristbands sure, forbid your daughter from wearing one. So maybe the little rapebait you raised slips it on her wrist when she leaves for school and off again before she comes home, makes sure to wash away any semen stains and makes up excuses about competitive soccer games if she's walking funny or comes home late with unexplained bruises. You accept this because, obviously, your daughter's not one of those sluts asking for a rape like other girls, you raised her right, didn't you? Maybe you have doubts, but you push them down.

As long as you have faith your little girl isn't one of Them, you can even think of the growing perverted trend as a good thing... beyond the obvious advantages if you choose to partake yourself. In either direction, since plenty of adults started using the wristbands or chokers or other signs, on their own terms to get the experiences they crave but tell themselves they shouldn't want. Men aren't the only ones who like a little illegal fun with kids so young the law would call it a felony, but who's felony is it if you're just going about your business enjoying a simple fashion trend, or showing your support for a local celebrity who's been unfairly isolated, and a young teen boy, brimming with hormones, that you happen to find yourself alone with, pushes you down and rapes you? Certainly not yours. Maybe it cancels out, nobody's felony. And if you're a female teacher who wears the band, what are you going to do, not give detention to the handsome fourteen-year-old troublemakers (and members of the Huntsmen club) that you have in your class? That would be forsaking your duty to mold these minds and provide discipline and even with some of the younger kids, if it's a particularly rowdy day and you've got four or five boys in detention to supervise, just enough they could totally overpower you if they get the wrong idea about what you mean by wearing the wristband, well, that's just the risk you take teaching. Better you than some girl, though sometimes you have to bring one of them along to detention, too, you can't show favoritism. These are all hypothetical examples, and I'm not pointing any fingers, especially not at your neighbor, Mrs. Culpepper (who by the way, if you see her, tell her that her class would like to wish their best on her maternity leave). Not to mention, the tips probably help out a lot... we just don't pay our teachers enough. Or maybe you aren't a teacher, maybe not even interested in younger stuff, but wear the wristband in public to attract a certain type of grown man, you still might appreciate that it was the young girls who started this trend and don't want to move too much to stifle them.

But say you don't crave rape for yourself, either giving or getting, and trust your kid to be like you, you still might convince yourself the trend of girls wanting to be rape bait's a good thing to have going on. Even the bands themselves even make a sick kind of sense... sure, it's advertising, but once people know that plenty of these girls are out there, letting them advertise that fact is kind of important, so nobody mistakes your girls for one of Them. Clamp down on the wristbands, the chokers, the obvious signs of who's on what side, and what do you get? Word of mouth, or anonymous Internet posts revealing that so-and-so wants to raped, and who knows if they actually do or if somebody just had a grudge against them? But if there's a visible signal, and you trust in your kid not to wear one, then you know they're safe... mostly safe anyway (mistakes, as I said, happen). After all, any monster who would rape a nine-year-old girl is obviously going to go for one of the little baby sluts wearing a wristband that implies she wants it and wouldn't tell on him, rather than your perfect nine-year-old who you never see wearing a pink bracelet. Knowing that, you don't have to watch your good kids obsessively and feel safer letting them run around alone, like kids used to in better days.

And for many in town, they're absolutely right about their own kids. It's a trend, but only a minority go for it (not counting those who just wear the wristbands around specific people they trust, at least, which I have no way to measure). It's certainly not most of the town girls, though sometimes it seems like it, it's just a solid chunk, fewer the younger you get (though there's a weird statistical bump right around 12-13 where girls not wearing something advertising their availability almost get to be the minority... the numbers also starts rising again for adults starting in their late twenties but it's not as consistent a trend and by this time parental reaction is irrelevant), so many parents are fully justified in their faith and trust in their own kids. But not all of them, and some are absolutely wrong about which kid they need to watch out for. And kids may want to, but they're not the best at hiding the evidence of repeated rapes (smells are a giveaway that kids neglect most, I find... so's a pregnancy, but that takes a few months after starting the bad behavior, some kids tip off attentive parents by smell the first day, or a little later by regularly laying out cum-soaked ten dollar bills to buy something they shouldn't be able to afford on their allowance). Nor are rapists always so careful when they've gotten used to getting away with it and they see their favorite rape meat out and they don't notice that she's not wearing a bracelet because it's not a good time with parents nearby (or because they're someone else entirely who looks close enough, as Lorelei discovered). Then of course, there's also tattling from other kids, siblings, fellow parents, even rapists with pangs of conscience. So, inevitably, some parents come to the shocking realization that their little girl is Like Kayla. Significantly more parents come to what should be an equally shocking realization that their boy has become a rapist, but a lot of time the attitude there is, as long as it's with a pink-wristband-girl... hey, boys will be boys.

So what does one do when they discover their child's been wearing the band, maybe already getting cocks thrust in every underage hole anytime someone can pin her down, maybe just endangering herself with the possibility to look cool (especially in the early stages of this whole phenomenon before the Huntsmen, when rapists were more shy and focused on the impossible dream of getting Kayla)? And assuming some parental disappointment and a firm talking-to doesn't stop the behavior, of course. Sometimes it does, although sometimes a less ideal compromise is reached, for example, like Chrissy Crichton, who agreed to swear off the wristband, and get on The Pill, only if her parents allowed her big brother to sexually enslave her at home and rape her there all he wanted, and never interfere, even if it was at the kitchen table during dinner... or if he brought friends over. That boy got popular real quick, although he's a bit selfish with her. But back to my point... if all that other stuff fails, then, pretty much your only options are to lock your daughter down, take her out of school and isolate her like Kayla was (which few wanted to do, seeing how hard it was on Nicole), try to move your family or daughter out of town (which some did, though many couldn't, and that is no guarantee the behavior will stop in the new town, it might just spread like a virus), or find some way to live with it. That doesn't mean giving up, surrendering your daughter to rapes, but like a lot of parenting, accepting that there is going to be trouble and just doing your best to minimize it and the negative consequences, punish bad behavior when you catch it, prevent what rapes you can and trusting the school and police other organizations to do their best the rest of the time.

And they do their best, they really do. Sure, a lot of rapes happen at school, but that's just because it's difficult for a limited staff to monitor everywhere a rape might happen, especially if nobody reports it until after. But when they catch a rape in the act the protocol is to report it and issue detentions or suspensions or parental advisories (sometimes that's the best thing, to impress a young rapist on the dangers, send him home and let his mom know so she can fuck with his mind by putting a bracelet on herself. Of course, sometimes that backfires, too). It's reasonably safe during school hours... by about ten minutes after the school day ends the most vigilant of staff goes home and so, then, something might happen in detention and the protocol let slide, and the Huntsmen tend to be free to drag a girl to one of their meetings... but during the school day, itself, rapists are taking a risk and it's pretty rare outside of bathrooms and isolated corners during recess and lunch. Which I guess isn't that rare, all in all, but at least it doesn't interfere much with education, the school's just making the best of a bad situation. Some people disagree, considering the dress codes, and, sure, those have gradually significantly relaxed for girls wearing bands or chokers, but there's a good reason for that, and they still insist on some standards. For example, for those in wristbands or chokers (hats too, before it was decided that it was a hate symbol), skirts must extend to, when standing up straight, at least half an inch below the lowest point on the ass cheek if no underwear is worn, and at least mid-ass if you're wearing underwear (and, for all this liberality, thongs are strictly forbidden except in the last year of middle school and in the high school). And shirts can show belly or cleavage but must in all cases cover the nipples (though mesh, which is presently only allowed in middle and high school girls, is typically considered 'covering' the nipples, even if they're visible and blatantly poking through fishnets... it's the principle of the thing, you can't allow underage girls to be topless in school, after all... for a similar reason, the top has to wrap around the body, so just tape-on-the-nipples isn't allowed, although I understand that's up for reconsideration at the next board meeting). More importantly, they do make sure everyone else, the kids who haven't chosen to wear a sign inviting rapes, wears a wardrobe conservative enough you'd think we weren't a town with a rape problem at all. They're thinking of instituting a mandatory uniform for them, something unflattering that would deter all sexual attention, but for now, girls at least have to wear pants or skirts that have built-in shorts, shirts tucked in, and can't even show a bra-strap much less a bra, and no makeup allowed at all. Boys likewise must keep covered, though there's not a lot they need to keep covered, and they can unzip pretty quickly if a good opportunity presents itself... the main rule is not to have your cock out where somebody in authority can see it.

There's a lot of good reasons for these different rules for the school's rape-bait population. Firstly, the theory is, the rapes are impossible to prevent, they're going to happen either way, so they might as well allow them to happen with as little disruption to the educational process as they can manage. Cum wipes easily off skin but sinks into clothes, so why not let them minimize the amount of clothes they can stain? Not to mention the time for the rape itself, if it's going to happen, it's agreed it's best to happen as quickly as possible. During a switch between classes, if a rapist does get a chance to pin a girl down alone somewhere unobserved, he can just secure her, bend her over, pull a thong to the side if she's wearing one, ram his cock in her pussy, fill her with cum, then both can be back to class, before anybody saw them and had to file a report, whereas a normal, conservative girl, it's an effort and probably not worth the risk. Slipping a wristband on the hands of someone against their will is also much less likely to work, or be believed, if the girl doesn't dress the part of her own choice (not that it isn't tried a couple times a month). The school's overworked and it has to prioritize the town's good girls.

Police are overworked too, and they too, do their best. Do you know how much paperwork a rape accusation brings with it? That's probably why, as long as it isn't happening blatantly in public and is at least in an alley or behind a few bushes (I believe the unofficial technical standard passed down by the Sheriff is 'as long as it's not visible from sidewalk or street at a distance of more than 60 feet', which allows it to go on in cars or if there's a big enough crowd of observing onlookers), if a cop encounters a grown man, or several men, stuffing a little girl full of cock, even if she's clearly several years below the age of legal consent or even a few shy of puberty, he's liable to just clear his throat (or tap on a window if it's a car) and wait for them to reposition and show off her neck or arm for a choker or pink band. Maybe if they're especially by-the-book the officer might ask that the rapists take their hand off her mouth or clear her throat of the cock halfway down it, so she has a chance, if that is the case, to say they put the bracelet on her, she's not really With Kayla or Like Kait. If she doesn't, and everything looks in order, the cop might supervise to make sure nobody gets actually hurt, but more often than not, let everyone get off with a warning rather than filing charges as long as no one formally complains. That might seem to some people like a horrible abdication of their responsibility, but all police everywhere have to manage their resources in the fight on crime. It's just like how if a town had a drug problem. Lots of good towns these days have opioid problems, or meth problems, but they're still good towns, most people behaving well most of the time. If cops went and arrested every drug user, they'd never get anything else done, so instead they focus on where they can do the most good, tackle the worst offenders and the people who can't keep it under control. Our town has a bit of a rape problem or maybe an underage slut problem, but the same principles all apply (I mean, there's also a slight drug problem, and I suspect those first rapists to cross the line were in the grips of it, but we're better off than most towns). It doesn't mean we're not mostly a good town, and it certainly doesn't mean the cops are doing nothing to combat the problem, they just pick their battles. And like with drugs, sometimes the cops get a little dirty... I know a few who won't just supervise but join in, maybe not with outright rape, they're still officers of the law, but getting the little fucktoy's permission, under the theory that if a girl is too little to handle one more cock (or eat a little pussy if it's Officer Travis), she's obviously also too young to be doing this sort of thing without her parents knowing. Of course, if it's an adult woman getting raped with a wristband they probably won't even bother asking permission. Still, even though sometimes they fall to temptation, I assure you, if a girl or her parents choose to file a formal complaint they absolutely do make arrests for rape, and sometimes people are even convicted. One of the black guys in the video with Grace is in jail now... not for her, mind you, but because he mistook the choker on another girl for being a Like Kait choker (depending on your viewpoint that's either evidence that the system works occasionally, or that blacks are more likely to be punished than whites for the same crimes). However, for some reason, more and more these days, even good parents who know their daughter has been raped, and know who did it, often make the decision not to put their daughter through the prospect of a trial, feeling it would only victimize their child again to no benefit. I can't imagine why, but I believe in the justice system... sure, we have to make sure the defendant gets a fair trial rather than convicting without reasonable doubt, but that's how justice works. So maybe you count that as giving up, but it's one reason out of many why exhausted parents just look the other way (metaphorically and sometimes literally).

Sometimes giving up's probably even the best call, every parent or teacher knows that kids can be stubborn as hell and sometimes when you forbid something things backfire and they'll do it to spite you. Like with Bailey Collins. Sweet little thing, came late to the wristbands but fell hard into it with the enthusiasm of a convert. Thirteen, tomboyish, previously only seen in jeans and fun t-shirts, and with her undeveloped chest and short dark hair could have been mistaken for a slightly-shaggy boy if not for her girly face with luscious lips and green doe-eyes, and of course her tight ass and puffy pussy when she finally started showing them off. Her BFF Suzanne Thomas took the band first, and after a couple weeks watching her friend enjoy rapes from the sidelines (both literally and metaphorically) Bailey got curious enough to try it... or maybe she just wanted to connect with a friend she was losing touch with. She knew her mother wouldn't approve, but Suzanne convinced Bailey to just try her wristband on while spending time for a sleepover, which of course got Bailey raped by Suzanne's stepfather (I mean, I assume, I wasn't there and Dave never bragged, so maybe it wasn't him and the two girls snuck out and got her raped by a neighbor or something). After her first taste of rape, Bailey started wearing the wristband on her own on a regular basis. Always slipping it on outside of her mother's sight and off again before she got home, and likewise did what a lot of girls did, changed clothes in the bathroom to take advantage of the better dress code policies for With Kaylas, seeming to revel in looking girly for once, loving short skirts, no underwear, even makeup which made her look like a little whore, especially when it started running from a particularly aggressive rape. Everyone at school knew what she was (especially because she liked sitting in class with her legs spread) but her mom had no clue, until Bailey got caught getting ass-fucked by the dumpsters during the lunch hour. That was usually a relatively safe place for an unobserved rape but one of the female teachers needed a smoke, saw the two high school Huntsmen on the wrong campus, one holding Bailey's upper body pinned against the dumpster while the other shot a thick load in her colon. The boys were out of the teacher's jurisdiction, so she couldn't punish them (some say she didn't want to, and punishing Bailey was only because the little girl got the rape she was hoping for herself), but she followed protocol and reported the incident to Bailey's mom, Ruth, and held her after school until she could be picked up, still wearing the short skirt, no underwear, sports-bra top, and forbidden pink bracelet, and that was that, secret blown. What followed was a mother-daughter tug of war over her increasingly outrageous behavior and what was to be done about it. A single mother with no close relatives can't go the full Nicole route, so isolating Bailey 24-7 wasn't an option, but Ruth did what she could, what she thought best, taking Bailey out of school, grounding her, and forbidding the wristband with the promise that Bailey would be sent to an out-of-state boot camp for troubled kids if she ever wore it again. That was a bad move for two reasons, it was a bluff (those places are expensive and not all parents can afford it) and sensing that, Bailey pushed back hard. One afternoon Ruth was out, and Bailey was grounded, but snuck out and over to the home of a local high school dropout (or rather flunkout, since it was because of grades, not choice... since this started, fewer and fewer boys willingly drop out of school, so you see, there's is some benefit to our town's problem). In addition to selling drugs, this young man had started making a little extra cash doing stick-and-poke tattoos for friends. Bailey got "I'm With Kayla" and "Rape Me" tattooed permanently on her wrist, paying for it with the virgin pussy of her ten-year-old sister Brooke, who she was supposed to be home babysitting, a responsibility her mother thought would keep her out of trouble. Ruth was wrong on that call. Brooke's identical tattoo, Bailey paid with her own pussy (it was a discount since Brooke was younger and it needed less ink). That permanent branding of both her daughters in one afternoon broke Bailey's mom's heart, and worst of all, it happened just before the two were due to spend their monthly weekend with their father. After that weekend, their dad successfully sued for full custody (even though he's only the biological father of Bailey, he's on the birth certificate for both), using the incident as an example of her parental negligence. Now both girls are back in school and proudly wearing the slutty outfits and wristbands (for long distance visibility more than anything else, since tattoos are forever). As for Ruth? She's a lonely drunk, at the bar night after night, constantly bitching about how her ex is now pimping out of her darling daughters to his poker buddies. I don't know if that's true or not, but there's now a waiting list to get into his regular Tuesday night game, and the girls are noticeably sleepy-looking in class on Wednesday mornings. I do know at least three guys who got on that waiting list after a one-night stand with Ruth that included listening to her complaints, which sometimes seemed less like complaints and more like suggestions.

So you can see how sometimes parents might have trouble making the decision of how hard to fight this trend when their own children are caught up in it, like some even think if they see their daughter going this way it might be better to just nudge her into being Like Kait because then at least the pool of potential rapists is much smaller (indeed, she'll be actively protected from some of them). Another particularly hard choice arises when only one of your kids is going down this path, and you might be able to save the other, but you have to decide if the right call is punish it heavily so the other one isn't tempted, or let it slide and focus on protecting the 'good' ones who are still inclined to follow their parents instructions. Equally hard to figure out in advance is if your good ones are the type who are more likely to stray if you give the bad ones any extra attention at all, or if ignoring the bad ones entirely might give them space to outright corrupt their siblings. That happens too, not every time, but at least in almost every permutation, not just sisters being tempted by the fun their sisters seem to be having, but boys in the Huntsmen raping their little sisters until they like it enough to start wearing a wristband, and at least one sixteen-year-old With Kayla who decided she needed to train her geeky little brother to be a good rapist and build his confidence. Andy is more confident now, but still a geek, and he corrupted Jess too, a little... she's is now a regular at his middle school D&D club (one of the few places where a girl can be raped without even a wristband as long as her character is being raped by another player or a monster played by the Dungeon Master at the same time... they can leave the game at any time, so I suppose it's not really rape, just good roleplaying). So maybe that one didn't work out so bad... at least, it could have gone far worse. Every family's a little different and you don't always know what works for yours until you take one path and risk the consequences.

That's our town in general now, full of tough choices, ones not everyone makes correctly, but it's still a good town, mostly. I think so anyway... got its problems, but I can take it. The ones who couldn't, moved away, or go so deep into denial it's almost sad. I know one woman who swears the town changed overnight a few weeks ago due to some magical curse after she put a suggestion in the church suggestion box that the town should offer moral support to girls like Kayla. Ridiculous, her daughters had both been blatantly wearing the wristbands for months, and I've never seen a suggestion box in our church, but she's got this idea if she can find it again she can undo it all. I guess madness makes a good escape for some. The rest of us just try and get by. Church helps, no magical box and not just things like confession, but this year the sermons have been particularly guilt-assuaging for those who finally decide to make a difficult choice and just let their daughter be raped on a regular basis if that's what she seems to want, or are on the precipice of such a decision.

Which brings us back to Kayla. Now, for the longest time, that little girl that started all this had no idea what an icon she'd become, or that all her underwear-sliming dreams were coming true for other girls her age. If she did, she might have pried up the nails on her windows, slipped out, gotten raped by the first guy that recognized her, or maybe a crowd, or maybe she'd escape them all and find that little delinquent doing the stick-and-poke tattoos and gotten a poke and a tattoo as well and maybe some drugs to boot to make it a really memorable experience. She wouldn't need an "I'm With Kayla" tattoo of course, but maybe just "I Am Kayla, Rape Me." But she didn't know enough to want it. She was kept isolated, from the Internet, from her friends who could not be trusted, and though she may have seen the wristbands and chokers on rare excursions she didn't know what they meant. And despite having many other perverted options available, everyone I talked to still wanted to crack that nut, or nut that crack. But for the longest time we had no luck at all, subsisting on the dream and the occasional masturbation video from undiscovered hidden cameras (which, let's be honest, are like any celebrity porn, far more interesting because of just who's involved than on its own merits... she didn't know she was being filmed, so she doesn't make any cool poses or elaborate dirty talk... often you couldn't even see what we all wanted to drown in cum, just her rubbing a spot under her panties).

Her mother Nicole knew about the growing rape epidemic, but probably not the full extent of it since she had lost touch with most of her friends, either because she could not longer trust them not to be trying to use her to get to Kayla, or because she simply didn't have time to keep up the relationships while watching her. But because of what she did know, Nicole shielded her daughter even more carefully when they went out from that than actual rapists, steered her away from anyone wearing a wristband or who might mention them, which was growing to be more and more people, and leaned more and more heavily on Grandma Martha to watch Kayla while Nicole did necessary errands. She still had some hope of moving, eventually, getting some money from relatives to make a start in another city (some of those offers came with kinky strings attached and even some of those were getting considered for the sake of her daughter), but all of those ideas would come to nothing if Kayla herself hadn't changed. Cursing the sex-obsessed media for luring her daughter into this lifestyle, Nicole started on a last-ditch effort to deprogram Kayla through withdrawal, giving her nothing but wholesome entertainment, which mostly meant Disney movies.

That stopped when they started to be the focus of Kayla's disturbing comments. Ever since her interests were revealed in front of them and the whole town, she felt a little more free to say whatever dirty thought came into her head. Not to shock, I think, but it wasn't like they didn't know what she was into, or that they could punish her much more than they already were so she was free to be herself, more. Sometimes it might get her sent to her room instead of being able to watch TV, but most of these interjections her parents tried to ignore, even early on when she might say, for example, that someone on TV looked like he'd be a particularly fun rapist and punishing her by not letting her watch made sense. Grandma Martha would punish something like that with a spanking, but Walter either sent her to her room or pretended he didn't hear depending on his mood and the severity, and Nicole mostly just ignored it regardless. Maybe she thought her daughter would become less interested in saying such things it if she didn't react, but by the time they went on the all-Disney diet, her random voiced thoughts started getting significantly weirder. Like when she asked if Nicole thought Robin Hood, the fox from the 70s Disney version, had a bigger cock than the lion, Prince John, or the wolf Sheriff of Nottingham, because otherwise why would Marian want to be with him rather than one of the others who were more likely to rape her rather than treat her with respect? Or when she asked if the TV producers ever let Bolt rape Penny, because he thought he was the hero and even heroes need to rape a girl now and then, and every dog needs a good bitch. Both of those were ignored without comment, and probably shouldn't have been, but Nicole just didn't know what to say and with no one else in the room letting it slide seemed the best course. The final straw was after Zootopia, when her father asked at dinner what she thought of it, and she said she wished she could be Judy Hopps because then when animals went savage they would just rape her, and it might be fun to be raped while someone's pulling on your bunny ears or lifting your butt up by your poofy tail, going on excitedly on that theme while she ate her food, seemingly oblivious to the inappropriateness of fantasizing about being raped by anthropomorphic animals while at dinner with your parents, and finally Walter slammed his fist on the table and told her to go to her room without finishing dinner.

After sending her away, her parents stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, before having the conversation that would finally let the town get what it wanted... at least if they had it significantly earlier. It started as a joke from Walter, or a remark carefully given in a tone of voice that he could claim it was a joke, to break the intolerable tension. "Look, it may be too late to keep her from winding up as Rape Bait Like Kait," he said, for like all fathers he wasn't entirely hip to trends and didn't realize the more specific implications of that particular brand, "but I'll be damned if my daughter winds up as a goddamn furry. I'll rape her myself if I have to."

He expected a reaction from his wife, a look of disgust at best, screaming at him at worst, but sometimes married couples need a screaming match just to let out the demons. "You're not raping our daughter," she said, but with a curious lack of passion, that made Walter even warier of a trap. "It would be totally counterproductive to have her first time being with your mediocre cock."

"What's wrong with my cock?"

"It's fine, Walter. That's the problem, it's pure middle of the road. She's already had a bigger and better cock inside her, even if it was made out of rubber. If you rape her, it's not going to quench her thirst, it won't even make her think the reality can't live up to the fantasy, because she'll know there's better out there. And let's face it, you'd probably be too gentle with her, you can't even bear to spank her butt." And with that, Walter relaxed a little, figuring he got off light for his comment, a little insult about his manhood, but a gentle one. Until Nicole went on, "If we're going to let her get raped, we need to choose people who'll do it effectively. And that means we need to get on the same page about whether we want to fulfill her dreams with the most satisfying possible rape, or attempt to scare her straight, so to speak, with a rape so bad she won't want to be near men ever again afterwards. Either way, I have ideas, but we need to decide what we want for her to narrow down exactly who gets to fuck her."

Walter's fork hung suspended between plate and gaping mouth for a full ten seconds, before he managed, "Wha...?"

"Personally, I think we should go with option A. In order to scare her enough it might have to be really violent and painful, and I don't think I have the heart to do that to her, even if it might save her later. It could wind up scarring her for life, or worse, she might like it. Either way, I'm not sure we can trust the kind of person who could do it that way not to hurt her too badly or to stop at just one rape. And even if the plan works perfectly, and does turn her away from wanting sex, who knows how long that might last? Potentially forever, Walter. Then she might not ever want to have kids so, if we ever want grandchildren we better be sure to choose someone who can knock her up the first time, and schedule around that. On the other hand, if it's a rape she enjoys, sure, it might get her to tempt a lot more people to violate her little body, but we can monitor the situation, keep her on the pill, and hope she eventually just gets tired of provoking rape and finds a good boyfriend and a normal life."

"Wait, are we really talking about this?" Walter asked, and I don't entirely blame him for suspecting it was some kind of trick.

Nicole just shrugged, and even sounded like someone who was just tired of fighting. "I guess so," she said. "She's obviously not getting any better with what we're doing. I've been thinking, a lot, lately, about what Reverend Chapman said."

"That we should let him safely convert Kayla to normative heterosexuality before she goes down the path of lesbian debauchery?"

"No, more recently than that."

"That the best thing for everyone might be that a group of godly men should really rape the devil out of our little girl and save the town's soul in the process?"

"No, more recently than that. The stuff about Lot."

"That Lot's daughters really didn't do so bad by getting their father drunk and having sex with him, they founded two whole dynasties out of it and more girls should follow their example?"

"No, just before that. The part about Lot being the only righteous man in Sodom, despite him offering up his virgin daughters to be gang-raped." It was a common theme in sermons lately, a new look at a classical Biblical story as a parable for what was going on in the town. You'll hear it soon enough if you go to church, and, of course, so will your kids, but to give the short version, the biblical canon is that, Lot offered up his daughters to a rape gang to protect two angels... and they were his virgin daughters, too. Given the time period's beliefs about marriageable age, and how lustful the town was, that likely meant they weren't much older than the age of puberty, yet he offered them up to the mob, though they didn't take it, all fired up about angel booty and accepting no substitutes. Lot was willing to go through with his part of the deal though, and this still rendered him worthy enough to be saved from the destruction of the city. So, clearly, the theory went, God's divine judgment is that allowing your children to be raped, to protect angels at least, is morally good, and aren't innocent children something like angels themselves? If you let people rape your children to protect other, more innocent, children, you're probably doing what God wants. I've talked online with other Biblical scholars who've claimed that's bullshit, heresy even, and even moreso is his theory that God wanted Lot's daughters to get incestuously pregnant because otherwise He would have prevented it and wouldn't have gotten Lot's salty wife out of the picture. Most also disagree with his speculation that the Lot family incest almost certainly happened more times than mentioned in the Bible and with daddy's full consent after the first two nights and God's implicit sanction, or his reasoning that the incestuous children of Lot had to be smart, righteous, mighty and charismatic to each found a whole people named after them, even if those people later went astray. I'm no expert, so I don't know who to believe... I just know Chapman's interpretation is remarkably persuasive to people who want to believe in the general theory that it's possible for our town to still be holy, sanctified, righteous, even if all of us were like Lot and even if we enjoyed a rape now and then or had sex with our daughters or fathers... as long as we worshipped Jesus while we did it, repented afterwards, and took care to leave the innocent angels among us alone. Chapman's favorite line is that if Sodom was full of people as righteous as Lot, it wouldn't have been destroyed but instead would have been a second Jerusalem. He's even suggested changing the name of the town to Lot's Jerusalem, or Lot's 'Salem for short, but I think that was a joke... you'd never expect it, but he's also a big Stephen King geek.

"Okay," Walter said, after Nicole gave her justification for opening the rape talks, "But let's not forget that Lot's daughters had sex with him first."

I can understand Walter focusing on the regular good-daughters-bring-your-fathers-beers-until-you-can-talk-them-into-fucking-you-and-by-the-way-condoms-are-still-wrong part of the sermon, even though it was a more recent addition (and, I believe, influenced by the church administration, who are laymen, no pun intended), but it sure looked like Nicole was ready to give up on protecting Kayla, which, to me, was a far more exciting development. "Maybe we can discuss that later, if her appetite for rapes is more than we expect, but we're not starting there, Walter. But you still haven't answered, do you agree with me that we should make her first rape a good experience rather than a bad one?"

Well, the man had just been teased with the possibility that if Kayla still liked rape, her daddy might be allowed to do it, so what do you expect, he said, "Yes, absolutely. I still think I could provide a good first experience though."

"No, you're not thinking. What if it winds up not living up to her fantasies at all? If you do it, and she regrets getting raped, don't you think she's going to hate you? No, we can't be directly involved. Not in the first one, anyway. We just need to choose who's going to do the job, and find an excuse to leave her alone with them, and let nature take its course, and we can pretend we just had no idea what she was up to. If she's still happy afterwards, we can tell her we set it up and see what happens."

"Her birthday's only a few weeks away, we could claim it was an early birthday present and save some money."

Nicole's eyes rolled, but she said, "Sure, Walter. Anyway, I'm thinking five is a good number of men. We'll start with men and if we need to experiment with women and family afterwards, we'll consider that, but five strangers, or passing acquaintances, that seems like a good first rape experience. That way she get every hole filled at once, and can be stroking a hard cock with each hand at the same time. Any less might leave her wondering if she missed out on part of the full gang rape experience, any more and we can't trust her rapists not to get out of hand. Any suggestions on who?"

Seeing an opportunity to fulfill a promise made under blackmail, Walter suggested, "What about that girl Lauren's father? You know, the one who was the model for the dildo?"

"Yes, Frank, good call. I was thinking of him too. We know Kayla can handle his size, he knows how to be rough but not too rough, and he's got enough stamina to make the rape last long enough that Kayla might cum."

"Wait... how do you know what Frank's 'stamina' is like?"

"Don't act all offended, Walter. Yes, I've been fucking Frank. But you've been fucking his underage daughter for long before that. At least in my case, it was an honest rape, every time I've visited him. Which, if I understand, you promised not to stand in the way of, if he got the chance. Well, he got the chance when he told me that. By the way, don't get your hopes up about little Lauren's child actually being yours, either, I get raped by another guy who swears it's his, but Frank did get your promise, so let's put him on the list. Now, I think we're also going to want someone with a really, almost absurdly big cock, just so Kayla doesn't feel like she's missing out on anything. And we should include some diversity. Luckily, I know a guy who fits both categories, and who I think can be trusted not to hurt her with his big black cock. I could barely fit half of it in my mouth the first few times and..."

"The first few times? Jesus, Nicole, how many men have you been fucking around with? And how often?"

"Look, I spend all fucking day watching that girl, I need some 'me time' too. Sometimes I just need to leave her with Grandma Martha and spend some time in the company of adults... it just turns out that a number of my adult friends like to rape. It's only a few times a week, and at least everything I do is perfectly legal. I don't sneak over to Frank's place while I'm supposed to be working to fuck a pregnant twelve year old, like you do, I just go to visit him or someone like him, and happen to get raped... sometimes while a pregnant twelve-year-old watches. Or sometimes I need a walk in the park after dark, and what happens, happens."

"Bullshit, you've been wearing one of those wristbands, haven't you?"

"I never said I didn't. What, do you expect me to not wear a wristband in support of my own daughter? It's only been very recently though. I got curious, what can I say? But if it'll set your mind at ease, I've only been raped by a dozen guys at most, maybe a few times each. And back to the issue at hand, Mike is the biggest, but he never pushed more than he had to in order to get the head in. Any part of his black horse cock that I couldn't fit in during the rape without wincing he was happy to let me just use my hands on to get him off. I think we can trust him with Kayla, as much as we can trust any child-rapist. If he even is one, I've never seen him actually raping a child, so, another point in his favor."

Walter obviously didn't like it, but a lot of the fight had gone out of him when he realized that some of the biggest secrets he'd been keeping from his wife weren't really secrets after all, that she could go to the police with them just as easily as Frank could, and to top it all off, the conversation they were having looked like it might lead to a better status quo than the one they'd been living since the fateful day of Kayla's speech. So, he agreed, and they discussed who would make up the rest of Kayla's first rape.

No, sadly, I was not on the list. Even with everything that happened after, that still disappoints me. But I was hardly the only one disappointed. The remaining three rapists-to-be were a father and son team (Nicole wanted someone closer to Kayla's own age, so they chose a high school freshman in the Huntsmen with a father she knew from the park), and they decided, fuck it, why not make some money off of it. They'd hardly be the first family to do so... not only is there Georgia and Kait, and probably a few I don't know about, there's the Cockburn Bed and Breakfast which is so expensive but mostly because Tom and Lucy Cockburn make a point of leaving their guests alone the first night, with only their wristband-wearing daughters to serve any needs required, both for the men and women, and return only to serve a hearty breakfast in the morning... even if it's desired in bed with one of girls. In that same spirit, knowing firsts are rare and valuable, Walter and Nicole made the last choice one of the town's wealthier citizens who would be willing to pay well for the privilege. That settled, they went on to discuss the best way to go about that rape, but by that point I was already wallowing in sorrow and pouring myself a sad glass of whiskey over not being picked, not even being considered.

I was hardly the only one disappointed, once word got out that this was finally happening, Kayla was finally getting what was coming to her after turning our town upside down. Which meant I was wanted for another reason. I've always been a little bit of a techie nerd. Lots of people tried to put hidden cameras in Kayla's house, during the open houses, but mine were the only ones that didn't get discovered pretty quickly (I have a secret, and I'd tell you, but then it wouldn't be a secret). I didn't just limit myself to Kayla's bedroom like most people, but also a couple other key rooms in the house, just to be thorough. What, how do you think I knew those private conversations?

Now I tried to keep my success there relatively quiet, I didn't want people pestering me for up-to-the-minute updates so they could plan their perfect rape... if anyone was going to do that, I would. I might have even warned the family about somebody hiding in the house, pretending I was watching from outside and never noticed them leave. It was one reason I was disappointed that I was never considered, after all I'd done to help them... you might call me a hero. Or maybe you think I'm just a pervert obsessing over watching a little girl. But I wasn't obsessing that much... mostly, I just kept it as a little hobby, fast-forwarding through footage for anything that looked juicy, sometimes watching the live feed with dinner (which was how I caught this particular conversation). Still, I couldn't resist sharing with a few people, especially when I got some particularly hot footage, and so once the people chosen for the big debut rape were informed and began talking to their friends, sooner or later somebody I told and somebody they told got together and they came to me with a plan... wire up the designated rape den with cameras in advance, capture Kayla's first rape on tape (I still claim Lauren was the first, but 'Kayla's First Rape On Tape' does have a better ring to it). What's more, go one better... so many people wanted to be part of the event, but Nicole and Walter were pretty set on limiting it to six people (counting Kayla), and so the idea came about, and snowballed as ideas sometimes do, first of having a party to watch the proceedings live, and then quickly jumped to doing a semi-private live screening in the town's movie theater. The theater's owner wanted to witness the big debut just like everybody, and rented it for free in exchange for some of the ticket sales.

I thought it was just going to be a handful of perverts wanking in a dark room, but demand was high enough that we actually had to discriminate. That happened almost naturally, because the people we planned to leave out were the people who were least likely to hear the gossip anyway... but the plan quickly became to restrict the event to locals only, no out-of-towners, even near-neighbors to the town who frequently visit to enjoy our town's rapebait girls, like kids from the college or residents of that pedophiles-on-parole trailer park a few miles away. And of course, we didn't want any of the small percentage of local killjoys who had a problem with the town watching a young girl's first rape. We just wanted the real hardcore Kayla fans who were here since the beginning. And kids, of course, some brought by their own parents, some just brought. There was no cover charge for underage girls, but they were only allowed in if they wore a pink wristband (which also meant that anyone who wore the Like Kait chokers had to be open to all that night if they wanted to watch the show... sadly Kait herself, as well as Grace, refused to come and they were the only ones I was interested in, and besides, I had to be up in the booth making sure everything was set up so the show could run smoothly, so I couldn't get distracted with a fun little pre-show rape like others did). To keep undesirables out, we had the theater's marquee list Great Expectations, since that's what everybody had for the event, and movies based on classic books tend to bomb in our town. From what I hear a few passing tourists wandered in accidentally, thinking it was the real movie, got admitted, and had an eye-opening experience, but they turned out to enjoy the feature without any complaints. The rest of us, having hyped it a lot longer, it was a much more mixed experience.

It's not my fault. Though I'll confess, from a cinematographical perspective, the movie was not the greatest. I mean, it was basically like editing a live multi-camera shoot and I was not a professional. I had to flip between cameras on the fly and sometimes chose the wrong one to go live, sound dropped out, and sometimes there were just no good shots. Out of courtesy to our performers, except Kayla, I tried to position the camera at her-eye level, so heads wouldn't be in the shot (I planned, if I eventually released the full video, to edit it more thoroughly so none appeared, but live, it happened from time to time and it was a good thing nobody there cared). Kayla was super-pale too, always was but after months barely spending any time outside, it was dramatic, like a little vampire who needed a stake somewhere other than her heart, although whether that's good or bad look depends on your tastes. Overall, though, it probably was not the best viewing experience, but that wasn't what everyone was complaining about by the end of the night.

Here's how it went down. I waited patiently for a signal from my man inside, which he only gave when Nicole rang the doorbell, and then, boom, showtime, the lights went down, the digital projector flared to life, and we went live, interrupting who knows how many rapes as people settled down to enjoy what they came there to see.

They'd talked about setting this up so Nicole didn't have to leave at all, starting the scene by giving her a drink, and then pretending the drink was drugged, but they ditched that plan, apparently worried Nicole couldn't fake drugged slumber well enough, or maybe they just felt inhibited raping a little girl with the mother right there watching through the barest slit in her eyelids. Instead, the pretext was the same--that they were there to pick up some new homeschooling resources from Lauren's dad, who happened to be running a poker game at the same time--but with a plan for a quick exit that leaves Kayla under untrustworthy supervision. Some of us in the theater snickered a bit at Nicole's bad acting (she didn't know the camera was there, to be fair, but we wanted one on her face in the doorway so there was no doubt she was in on it) as she faked an emergency phone call from an old friend who had fallen off the wagon and was taking drugs in a bar and needed Nicole's help, and then asked Frank if he could watch Kayla for a couple hours while she sorted it out, since obviously it was no place for a young girl. Kayla's eyes widened when she made the request, and by the time he promised to take care of her and her mom was swiftly instructing the little girl to do everything these men said and not cause trouble for them, those adorable eyes were practically bugged out of her head. I never did figure out if she caught on to what her Mom was lying about and why, or just realized what could happen for a few hours alone with men (and one teen), finally without any supervision from Mom. But Nicole got out of there and sped off, possibly really to a bar to drown any remaining second thoughts about leaving her daughter to get ravished in every hole.

Frank invited Kayla, pale, tiny, dressed in jeans and a Disney's Lady and the Tramp T-shirt, from the foyer into the main living room where all the men watched her eagerly, silent at first, and finally, Frank took a second to go back and close the door behind her, deadbolted it, returned, and knelt down beside the girl, put one arm around her to pin her to his side, and said, "Well, looks like we're left alone with a sweet little girl here. Her mother has entrusted us with a lot of responsibility, and obviously it would be wrong to continue playing poker with her here, so let's find something most of us can enjoy."

"Maybe it's just me," said the only man there who paid to be there, "But I think we'd all enjoy raping the little girl until her mom comes back."

"Hmm, there's an idea. Let's put it to a vote. All in favor?" All the hands went up, except Kayla's which were held tight against her body. "Sorry kid, looks like you got outvoted," Frank said, and shrugged and let go of her. The group of men who'd all voted they were going to rape got out of their chairs and advanced, pulling off their clothes, as she nervously backed away towards the door behind her, but found no escape, unable to reach the deadbolt before the first of them grabbed her.

The group had a moment of uneasiness as the rape actually began in earnest, since Kayla actually did fight a little, which made her rapists seem hesitant, and many of us watching uncomfortable. She was a far better actor than her mother, at least, her "No, you can't," was believable with a nervous tremor in her voice, her arms flailing at anyone getting close (and yet failing to hit anywhere they could do any damage), and her attempts to slip past people and find another exit before they grabbed her did look convincingly like distress. I was briefly tempted to just cut the feed, and I think if I did, only a few people would have complained. We're a good town, and seeing a little girl getting sexually assaulted without even a pink wristband on her wrist still makes many of us instinctually uneasy, maybe even more uneasy than when the trend started. In some ways we've been conditioned that a girl without one of the signals is truly innocent and untouchable.

But then one of the cameras caught an excited smile when she thought nobody was looking and the theater seemed to let out one collective held breath, relieved that this was okay after all. Someone even yelled, "Look at that little bitch, she's loving this," which caused a ripple of laughter. As for her rapists, I don't know if they saw it, or just decided that at this point, they were committed, and soon pinned got each of her arms and legs locked down and under complete control.

They pulled off her clothes one by one, ripping off her underwear for dramatic effect (sadly, the shot was spoiled, but we got a good view, a few seconds later, of a finger being forced inside of her). After getting her warmed up for a minute or two, they pushed her head to Frank's cock first, popping it inside her mouth, and a giant black cock moved in, slapped along her face until Frank made room, and she got just the head of it inside before they pulled away. The young Huntsman, Todd, fifteen, was chosen for the first anal penetration, but only a few seconds after the wealthy patron, who had already paid for rights for the first vaginal rape (and had been watching the oral initiation with a sour look, like he felt entitled to that too) inserted himself. One she was settled on the root, Todd, who'd been holding her from behind got inside her ass. The thrust together while the other three held her legs apart and covered her mouth. Neither of the first two lasted long, which might have been another reason they were allowed to go first, but the next cocks inside of her were there a lot longer, although they took a minute or two break first, to force Kayla to watch the cum leak out of her pussy ("It's so thick and gooey" she said with wonder and surprise), then one of them scooped it up to wipe it on her face to show it was slimey, too, before taking another turn. Sweet little Kayla was tossed around like a ragdoll at times, but always with surprising gentleness.

They got even more gentle after everyone had at least one good cum, including Mike, who didn't get to fully insert his monster cock fully anywhere, but did jack off the head in her pussy just after Kayla experienced the sex position Nicole wanted and requested, every hole filled at once and both hands jacking off cocks. I don't know it's got an official name, but I like to call that position the Lovecraftian Starfish. But shortly after that, they stopped doing the 'pin her arms and legs down' type of rape, and moved into the 'just order the girl to do degrading stuff and she will' kind of rape, the kind of rape a lot of wristband-wearers and Huntsmen were used to. They still play it as rape because they can tell themselves the girls were afraid, but really, at a certain point, they just like serving sexually for anybody who demands it. So the lucky five had Kayla orally clean their cocks in turn, then masturbate herself to orgasm with a beer bottle, mostly as a show to get them excited enough to rape her another round, then had that other round, usually one on one, with the others sometimes contributing a finger or a grope or a slap on bare ass, and a lot of dirty talk, calling her a little rape slut, baby fuckmeat, or other such endearments, extracting promises to not be so hard to rape in the future (well, she promised to try), and so on.

In the theater, things had calmed down some by that point, most people who brought company got a good rape in watching the Lovecraftian Starfish, if not earlier, and blew their load in whatever girl was convenient... a few girls were raping each other, just for something to do, and some people were starting to leave. But even those who did soon heard about what happened when Nicole gave a familiar and yet at the same time very unconventional motherly check-up call. I suppose it's only natural for a mother to get nervous with her nearly twelve-year-old little girl left alone with five men, even if she did send her there to get raped by all of them, and so Mike noticed his phone buzzing on the table, briefly left the room, and then came back a minute or two later, phone in hand, still on. At the time, Kayla was getting a father-son double-team and her fingers working her clit to nearly another orgasm. Mike let whoever was on the other line listen to one, and the groans of the two emptying their loads inside the little girl, then, after they pulled out and Kayla was catching her breath, face down in the carpet, he said, "Hey, Kayla. You're a little rape whore, right?" She only answered with a nod, so Mike asked her, "Say it, say you're being a good little rape whore for us tonight."

"I'm your little rape whore tonight. You''ll have to tell me if I've been a good rape whore."

"I think you're a real good rape whore. This is all your fault you know... you really were asking for it."

"Uh-huh."

"But honestly, did you like us raping you tonight?"

What followed next were not the words anyone wanted to hear. "It was okay. I mean, I had fun, I guess." She didn't sound traumatized, or uncertainly trying to please, she looked like someone who'd been waiting ten years for a new Star Wars movie and while it was good, it wasn't as mind-blowing as they expected (I know that look from the mirror). But you know, some girls take a while to warm up to rape, they get tricked or peer pressured into trying the wristband or do it just for the perks, and it takes getting a few mind-shattering rape orgasms and the excitement of never knowing for sure when the next one is coming, to really start to love it. Kayla loved it before actually trying it, but a lot of people right then, myself included, were thinking maybe it worked the same way.

Frank must have been thinking along similar lines, and he was a parent himself, albeit not a very good one, so he tried to reassure her. "It's okay, my daughter didn't like the taste of cock at first, and in fact the first few times having sex were a bit of a chore for her, until she started to really get into it. Believe me, a few more orgasms on a real live cock..."

That's when Kayla interrupted and surprised everyone, but perhaps no one as much as her mother on the other side of the phone. Her face visibly brightened as she said in the most chipper voice you can imagine, "Oh, I've cum plenty of times from a real live cock. Just not human ones. They're a little disappointing. I mean, dog cock is much more fun! The bottom swells up into a knot and I can even get stuck on it if I've been a really good bitch."

That got the whole theater's attention. Men sleepy in their seats, sat up straight and some even took their fingers out of the girls on their lap. We all also heard Nicole's tinny "WHAT?" from the phone, but it was closer to the mic than Kayla, and she didn't, because she went on, "I think animals are much better at raping a girl than humans are. I mean, I've only tried one animal so far, but I like it way better already. It's just so much more exciting and degrading, you know? I think it's their natural instincts taking over, but when an animal mounts you really feel owned, you know?"

I thought this town was unshockable, but you should have seen that crowd, parents frantically covering their children's ears like an F-Bomb being dropped at a Baptist event. But this was the girl who turned on a huge chunk of the town's young girls to being willing free-use rapebait. She was, for us, the face of rape, and now she was excitedly promoting the virtues of bestiality as even better. It's like if the one-and-only Ronald McDonald went on a live McDonald event and announced they really like Burger King more... no, wait, Burger King doesn't really capture the degrading depravity of bestiality. More like Arby's. Can you imagine? It'd be worse than if the clown was caught fucking children. Speaking of, I should tell you some time my theory Ronald McDonald finally did lose control and rape a kid, until the corporate Gods cursed him by transforming the kid into the shapeless, genderless, Grimace, named after the face he or she made when Ronald came inside, and forced Ronald to take care of the monster as punishment. I know that seems unfair to the kid, but that's the kind of thing Gods do, it's like the Greek Gods punishing Medusa for her rape. I guess it's more of a fanfic than a theory. Shit, sorry, I went off on a tangent again, didn't I? Bad habit. That's why the schools mostly call me in to substitute for Math classes... I can do the others, but I wind up going off on tangents. Nothing? Okay, never mind, I'm too used to joking with the kids in Mrs. Culpepper's class.

What wasn't a joke was the anger, not just Nicole's, but the theater's, too and most of theirs was directed at me. A lot of people thought I was holding out on them, that I knew about Kayla's bestiality experiments, must have gotten them on tape, and either were pissed that I hadn't warned anyone that Kayla might announce something like that, or that I was hoarding some outrageously kinky video, or both. The town might not have liked their daughters to hear about those kinds of activities, but plenty wanted to see them for themselves. But I swear, I didn't have any of her prior dog sex experiences. The only tapes I kept absolutely to myself were some bathroom tapes, because I'm old-fashioned enough to believe a little girl should have some privacy while on the can instead of having the whole town watching videos of it. People didn't believe I could have missed it at first, though, and I was having a hard time believing it myself, wondering if maybe Kayla made everything up, to shock the guys raping her, maybe to shock her mother who she might have guessed was listening. When I got home I went back over old footage and noticed something I never noticed before and realized that I did miss out on the video of Kayla's formative doggy rapes... because I didn't think to put any cameras in the garage. I mean, who'd expect I'd need to?

I didn't pay too close attention to those hours of footage where Grandma Martha was in charge, because she was a boring old prude... I thought. But every so often, either because Kayla said something outrageous or sometimes just dressed inappropriately, or sat the wrong way, or sometimes for no visible reason at all, Grandma Martha said she needed to teach her a lesson, and marched her into the garage to "get some screws sorted out." I'd seen the march to the garage happen, once, but I paid it no mind. I'd had punishments like that, too... I mean, not the forced bestiality that Kayla went through, but when I got in trouble, one of the things my parents did was send me into the garage with a pointless chore, like, yes, sorting a huge jarful of mixed screws by size or color or head-type. That's what I imagined went on under Grandma Martha's supervision, but apparently my imagination was sorely lacking. The woman was training a little girl, her own great-grandchild, to be a doggy bitch right under everyone's noses! Kayla hung her head on the way to the garage like it was a punishment, but I never noticed, until I looked for it, the slight bounce in her step or the way the dog's tail wagged on their way into the garage, or the way Kayla's hair was always messy coming out. I guess Martha chose there to do it in, because it was easier to wash away any evidence of dog cum than in the house, on carpet. Or maybe she just thought it was more degrading for a preteen to be mounted by a mutt on a dusty concrete garage floor. Nobody can ask her, anymore.

She did confirm what she did, though, just before her death.

I saw that happen, too. It was the very next day... shortly after this revelation the party ended, Nicole arrived to drag Kayla home, not even bothering to let her dress or even gather her clothes, just pulled her naked into the car. I have no idea what conversation happened there, but I imagine Kayla at least confirmed that it wasn't just fantasy and that Chekov was the dog who fucked her (and really who else could it have been, the way Nicole kept her isolated). So, the next day, Grandma Martha was called to account.

Kayla wasn't there at the time, thank goodness. Once a girl's been gang-raped twice (I count the girls, after all, though not everyone does) and expressed a preference for bestial rape, it seems little silly to keep her on such a short leash. No pun intended. I think at that point they'd given up even more than the first time they did... they were probably also hoping that if she got raped a few more times she might give up on this new fetish. Regardless, for the first time in forever, Kayla was out enjoying time with friends. I don't even know if she got raped that day, but it was a beautiful spring day, nearly summer, so I imagine she had some kind of fun.

Not having fun was Grandma Martha, who showed up with Chekov expecting a babysitting job, only to find Nicole and Walter waiting for her with grim expressions and a "We need to talk." I don't know if they were playing nice, or if Kayla followed through with her earlier promise never to snitch on a rapist, but they didn't come on all accusatory at first, but framed it more as a failure of supervision, that Kayla somehow had been having sex with Chekov, not that Martha had stripped the girl naked in the garage, forced her on her hands and knees, and manually guided the dog cock into her pussy.

But a guilty conscience is ready for an accusation, and hers assumed that's what it was no matter how gently and non-confrontationally it was phrased. "Yeah, well, so what, I was trying to teach her a lesson! You raised a demon child, not me, and then you called me to clean up your mess. You sure as hell weren't trying anything except the soft-hearted approach... at least I tried something! What did you expect me to do when she needed discipline? Spanking clearly wasn't getting through to her... the bitch liked a whupping too much. Liked being a bitch, too, but at least my way calmed her jets down for a while!"

"You had your dog rape our daughter!"

"She can't get pregnant from it, and it was a last resort! Don't act so sanctimonious, you never cared what I did as long as my methods were working. And they were, some! You even complimented me on how well behaved Kayla was after I took care of her. That's because when she talked about how she wished she could get raped, I didn't ignore her like you do, I washed her mouth out with dog cum so she knew she couldn't get away with saying inappropriate things. Or her cunt for driving her to sin. Sometimes her ass, just because it was hilarious when they knotted up."

"That's sick!"

"Sick, shmick, haven't you ever heard of tough love? A girl her age needs discipline, so I gave her some. It would probably have worked too if you two didn't baby her! Always has before! I only had to make your Mom gargle mutt jizz a couple times and it kept her mostly out of trouble."

"Oh my God, Mom? You made my mom fuck a dog too?"

"No, I never had to escalate to letting Scotty actually hump her." I guess Scotty was her dog in those days, and she was following a theme in names. "Because she learned her lesson and knew she couldn't act out, she was able to control herself and save herself for a guy who could support her. Maybe if she let me do it to you, too, you wouldn't have had your wild teenage years and married this fuckhead."

Walter said, "What did I do, you kinky old bitch?" and that's where the screaming match started, Martha blaming both of them for poor parenting leading to Kayla's speech, and not being aggressiveness in dealing with it after, accusations tossed around all over, including that Walter wanted to molest Kayla, which was true but still the kind of accusation you fight back against, and in the confusion both Walter's rape of Lauren and Nicole's cheating got brought up, not by Martha but she used it for ammunition, and, at some point, Nicole threatened to call the police on her grandmother. That's when Martha grabbed her chest and fell over.

Because she landed perfectly, comfortably even, on the couch, it took about a minute before they realized she wasn't just playing for sympathy, and it's possible if the two had called 911 right away she would have survived, but I think it was just her time. She may have been a tough old broad, but none of us last forever.

As stipulated in her will, Kayla got Chekov. Or maybe the dog got Kayla. Kayla never even heard about the fight, was told just that Grandma Martha passed (the girl's tears were heartbreaking, even though, or maybe because, the woman regularly raped her with a dog), but she seemed happy when she found out that Grandma Martha wanted her to take care of Chekov. I think Nicole agreed to that out of guilt more than anything else, blaming herself for the fatal heart attack because of the threat she made moments before her grandmother keeled over. It might not even count it as a threat... she just said she 'should' call the cops on her, not that she would, but she probably wouldn't, considering her own activities. It probably seemed pretty scary to Grandma Martha. I'm pretty sure the old lady, who had few living friends and spent most of her time not watching Kayla home alone watching cable news and court shows, had no idea how much the town had changed, or what the wristbands and chokers the young people were into signified, and might well have panicked herself to death at the suggestion that she'd be publicly accused of the things she'd actually done... but I don't think there's any sense in laying blame.

Still, Nicole's guilty conscience left a preteen girl, whose biggest goal in life is now to be sexually dominated by animals, alone with a dog and two parents who have given up expecting any more out of her. Sometimes just straight up alone, because Nicole chose to go back to work. So they let Kayla do what she considers her 'duty', being sexually available to Chekov 24/7 at home, not even bothering to hide it from her parents anymore. The most discipline they've imposed on her is to instruct her to make sure he's not horny when she takes him outside somewhere, so he doesn't hop up on her and mount her in the park in front of everyone. It's not like they're fooling anybody even without an obscene performance like that. Everybody knows what she's into now, and whenever she takes Chekov out for a walk, Kayla always wears a matching collar to his, and a short skirt, usually with some kind of animal print. Dalmation or zebra, usually, which Chekov certainly is not, but they don't make Doberman print clothes. I guess she figures it's close enough... and if she does encounter a male zebra, she's ready to attract his cock. But while over the summer it's become a common sight to see her walking through the park dressed like that, collar, skirt, and nothing underneath the skirt (often topless too), like she's announcing to the world that she's Chekov's bitch and he can if use her if he chooses... it's been pretty rare for anyone to actually see public copulation between the two. She takes good care of him at home. Less rare is video of it, of course... by now most of the town's seen Snapchat videos of her getting stabbed from behind by Chekov's obscene veiny dick, the animal humping away, or of her sucking on it, usually while Kayla's got a "puppy face" filter running on her own face, and they've gotten around... she's sent dozens of them out to the people most likely to share. She's got a sense, now, of how influential she's been with others in the town, and she's got a yearning to evangelize her new passion. And since she's not isolated from the other kids anymore, that tendency is freaking a lot of the town out.

So now you understand the problem with Kayla. What do you do when over a quarter of the young girls in town are wearing "I'm With Kayla" wristbands, but Kayla's mostly moved on from rape to being an all-around animal bitch? Does the brand transcend the one who started it and keep its original meaning? Or does wearing it mean anyone wearing the wristband has to act like Kayla, and if Kayla likes animals to rape her, the With-Kaylas have to as well? Is there any way we can find an exceptional human rapist that might be able to turn her around? We've struggled through that for the whole summer and so far we've had no luck on that, but, obviously we're going to need to take some kind of action, as some girls are making the jump to animals already. It'd probably be more, but there just aren't that many male animals who haven't been fixed. Yet. But the ones following in Kayla's footsteps and a lot of girls are asking for dogs as a birthday present, which makes it look like the start of a worrying trend. These things can snowball fast. I don't want the town to go this route. I mean, I was so looking forward to Halloween! Little girls coming door to door in skimpy costumes, begging for candy, and all of us knowing that if one had a wristband and we liked them we could just throw her over one shoulder, give candy to her friends, and take her inside for a trick that's also a treat? Not to mention previously untouchable girls who could decide to put on a wristband as their costume for the year. All of that potential's at risk now, and I'm scared we'll see nothing but mutt costumes. It probably doesn't help that for the new school year, 'I got raped' stopped being an ironclad excuse to get out of schoolwork or tests, except for a first timer (it still excuses lateness and absences, but the latter only if the girl's snatched and kept by a rapist the whole school day, and who has the time or energy for that... anymore). On the other hand, 'I got raped by a dog' has been counted as a separate first time for anyone really needing an exemption (though it has to be rape, either forced by someone else to do it or the girl happened to be bending over without underwear in front of a dog and getting mounted... just convincing a dog to fuck her gets a girl nothing, at least not in any of the classes I sub for).

At least not all's lost yet. Kayla still will take a rape from humans... Chekov discourages a lot of them, because he's very territorial, but now that summer's over the girl's back at regular school and he's not allowed there (yet), so people do get a chance and Kayla seems to like it (especially if you treat her like she's actually a dog), but you get the feeling she's humoring us and we need to do something drastic soon or we're in danger of losing a lot more of the girls, some to bestiality, some to clearer signals like the Like Kaits (which is in some ways worse, to anyone not black), and some to just trying to go back to being a normal girl, having reached their limit of kinkiness. Parents, too... Reverend Chapman may be able to justify incest and child rape biblically, but bestiality is trickier. A minority, sure, people might look the other way or enjoy watching, but too many get into that and the parents'll pushback a lot harder on the wristbands as a whole, and we might lose the whole fragile setup, and some people might say that's a good thing, but if you ask me, we'll just be left with a lot of men who've grown used to being able to rape and no distinct group they know they can get away with raping, which puts all our town's innocent girls at more risk. You can see how that would be a bad thing... I mean, you don't want innocent children to suffer, right?

Good. Because there is one idea we've come up with, and that's why I'm telling you this. We thought, maybe we can start a secondary brand, for bestiality, that people can either wear along with the wristbands or independently. We haven't gotten all the details yet, maybe just a dog collar, but that's a little too blatant. Someone suggested something like a necklace with a queen of clubs symbol (because, if you squint a little, it resembles a stylized animal paw print), and maybe we'll go with that, but we have a bigger issue. If we go with this plan, we might be able to salvage the pink wristbands, but... Kayla can't be the face of wanting-to-be-raped anymore. She needs to pass the torch. I've already talked to her about it, and she's agreed, if we find somebody, she'll make some big public handover to her and take up her new animal-whore brand (I mean brand like brand name, not a literal brand, although Kayla is remarkably excited about that suggestion when we explained the distinction). Of course, I did have to sell her on my idea of the handover, order her this kinky dog fetish outfit, and also promise to abduct her for a weekend trip to a farm run by an old friend of mine, so she can have fun with pigs, ponies, and goats.

All that's left is to find somebody to publicly profess their desire to be raped, and update the name on the wristbands, which is why I'm here. I understand you have some very attractive daughters. Oh, don't look so offended at the idea. We know you stayed at Cockburn Bed and Breakfast when you were househunting here and enjoyed their full hospitality. I'm good with hidden cameras, remember? You left your own daughters at home that visit, and maybe you consider them off-limits, but you still moved here. Well, we're not asking you to rape them. And really, we only need one of them, you can leave the other as your little angel, if you want, and you know what this town gives up to protect little angels. Both of them would be better, if you're open to that. A pair of sweet sisters would make for good brand leaders, because we can do fun things like use slightly different shades of pink to market one side of the brand a little raunchier and another for classier rapists, or for promoting the younger one, say, as Family Fuckmeat, only ready to be raped by family members, at first... or to advertise the distinction of one girl needing to be tied up or restrained first and the other just doing whatever's ordered. There are lots of possibilities, if you're willing... but I'm a reasonable man, I understand it's probably too much to ask to let us use both your daughters. Surely you can meet me halfway and spare one, though? Every parent with more than one kid's got one they secretly know is going to be useless for much else anyway. We need somebody for this, and we really need it to be a fresh face. If we choose someone who already wears the wristbands, it's just going to cause resentment among the others, and whoever we pick, they need that certain star quality that your daughters have.

I realize it's a lot to ask, I do, but it's not even as big a sacrifice as you might be thinking. You can even keep your rapebait daughter isolated like Kayla was. Maybe that'd even work better, in fact... an untouchable icon's better for brand purity than a person who can make mistakes. All we'd really need her for is a short speech and one, big, public gang rape. And a few smaller ones beforehand, just training, to get her accustomed to cocks and make sure she responds well, has some good orgasms, and makes it look appealing when the big moment comes. Maybe we could even try out both of them for a night and just go with whichever one takes to it best. You can't always guess that in advance, and that way you don't have to personally choose one over the other for the role, which I can understand might be difficult.

Whichever one it is, she might enjoy the spotlight, the spectacle of the whole thing. Our plan is, we're going to do it at a football game's halftime, just like when Kayla gave her speech that started all this. She'll give a new speech, introducing our new face-of-rape, one of your daughters, hopefully, as her hand-picked successor, maybe hint that they recruited her to come here specifically for this (a little white lie never hurt anyone), have a chance to talk a bit about moving on to her own brand because she likes being treated like an animal. Then the new girl will give a speech announce her love of rape by humans, then a few lucky raffle winners will get to gangbang her on stage, and Kayla will let her dog mount her while she wears her full fetish getup, furry ears, snout with a ring-gag, paws, and a buttplug tail, plus whatever we choose as her brand identifier, to try and win converts to her point of view. It won't even be a full rape, it's mostly just for show, fifteen minutes tops. They might not even cum in either girl and there'll be police supervision to make sure they're not really hurt, and in fact everyone will be doing their best to give your daughters an orgasm and make it look more appealing than Kayla's way. Everyone will have a good time, people will know they can still have all the fun of the pink wristbands without being With Kayla and her weird fetishes, and everyone can enjoy the rest of the game. After that, we distribute a new load of wristbands with the new name, maybe we give your girl a 'Rape Me' tattoo where a wristband would go (since the face of rape doesn't wear one herself, that's just for the people declaring they're 'with' her), and then you can lock her up in her room till she's eighteen if that's what you think's best. Nobody's trying to tell you how to parent. Suggesting, maybe, but the ball's in your court.

So, what do you say, are you going to help our town out of our Kayla problem? We can try and find someone else, but this is a great way to make a good impression on your new neighbors and help protect the innocent girls left in our town. Please, won't you think of the children?

The End
"CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid, even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion, bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation. Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex with minors should be left to other minors." - Phil Phantom
"ALSO CAUTION: Real rape is really, really bad. Sex with children, too. It may seem insensitive or in poor taste, to deal with those issues in anything less than a serious light, or indeed to use fantasies along those lines for sexual gratification, when real people suffer from them, but that's the thing with fantasy. I can decide for the purposes of the story that everyone raped enjoys it and nobody is seriously harmed. In reality, real people are involved and horrible things really do happen that never should happen. The only way I can imagine living with those horrors going on in the news every day is with fantasy, to safely play with the horrors, prepare for them, cope with them, laugh at them, fap to them, or tame them, if only in my mind. Sometimes even to deal with the all-too-human urges to join in with the horrors, to safely purge them so I can be, in reality, a better person. Fantasy's an incredible tool for all of that, and more, but you're better off not being around a tool if you can't use it properly. In this case, that means confusing it with the real thing. Especially don't confuse enjoyment of a fantasy for endorsement of the same acts or attitudes in reality. This is true whether you're dealing with a video game where mindless violence really is the answer, or a story where you're meant to enjoy children getting raped. And, though we all need our breaks from reality now and then, we have to go back to the real world eventually... be good to each other while you're there, that, too, makes it a little more bearable." - AnonyMPC

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End Note: This story is technically part of an idea by Danaume involving a universe or universes in which a magical suggestion box appears in random places and alters reality making any suggestion put in the box true, even if it's outrageous and lewd, or (in this case) an innocent suggestion that gets misinterpreted to be so... the person making the suggestion remembers the old reality, but nobody else notices a change. Although ideally Suggestion Box stories should focus more on that aspect, and here it's basically a cameo, I do want to acknowledge that. It's possible that many of my Phil Phantom-style stories take place in such a universe, it's just not revealed who made a suggestion or what it was.

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