Thank you all for the support; many hugs and kisses!

I'm leaving tomorrow, not sure when or if I'll be able to update so this is my going away present to you all. :)

Little Birds with Broken Wings

Samantha, March 16th 1970 (age 13)

Rapist: Alex Delarge (age 18)

Warnings: Sexual Assault of a Minor, Coercion, Abuse.

March 16th

As I walked down the Flatblock Marina, a youngish devotchka wearing a skolliwol uniform and bright pink backpack was walking in the opposite direction with her face hidden behind a copy of "Forever By Your Side" by G.G Harvest; I remember, my brothers, being forced to read that cal when I was a younger chelloveck. It was a love story, between a beautiful but cursed mermaid and a handsome sailor and all the devotchkas absolutely adored it; pathetic. I personally enjoyed Robert Cassidy's "The Darkness Tolls" about a man who goes beserk and kills his entire family; rapes three women; and blows up a public building. That one was not on the required list, in fact it was banned in public schools.

"Hi, Hi, Hi there little sister" I govoreeted jovially, but the little bird didn't stop and I almost struck her with my black cane for her rudeness; instead I placed a rooker on her little pletcho and she jumped just a malenky bit as if startled. She looked at me but said nothing, "How art thou this fine afternoon, my lovely?" I said, smiling at her but she just viddied up at me with a confused and dumb expression. I frowned, her skin color was the same as mine so I figured it wasn't because she didn't know English. And I wasn't using nadsat in a strong sense, then she brought her hands up and starting signing.

She was deaf.

I am a well cultured, intelligent malchick as you all know. I was fluent in English, French, and just a little bit of Russian. Sign Language was not my strongest suit but I knew enough to make basic conversation. I signed to her, "How are you today?" and she replied "Good and you?" "Real Good, Not very nice at signing sorry" she smiled real sladky and put up her index finger, giving me the universal sign to wait a minoota. She shrugged off her backpack and pulled out a sparkly green notebook. She pulled out two pens, one purple and the other blue. She handed me the blue one, and she began to write in a girlish sort of cursive, real pretty my brothers.

My name is Samantha. I'm thirteen. I just moved here three days ago. I don't have many friends

That's a beauteous name, my darling, my name is Alexander Delarge. I'm eighteen years old. I've lived here since I was a malenky chelloveck, where art thou staying my lovely?

It was here that her expression turned from peaceful and sweet to cautious and hesitant, she bit her lip and began to chew it. (Oh darling, open up those pretty lips and let Uncle Alex inside yes?) I put an arm around her pletcho and squeezed it gently, I wrote: There's no need to be like fearful of your loving friend, my darling, I'm merely asking so I can walk you home. But the blasted devotchka would not submit. She started grabbing her things and looking at me with an apologetic expression.

Before she could leave I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to sit next to me, grabbing the notebook from her I wrote something else while she watched. Please meet me at the Duke of New York, I know it's hard to make new friends my lovely. I would be very like happy to have the chance to be a friend to you.

Her expression became all sweet and soft, and she nodded enthusiastically. She turned to go but stopped, turned back around and kissed my cheek.

At the Duke of New York, I was sitting in a booth all on my oddy knocky. I wasn't watching for the door because it made little to no difference to me if the bitch didn't come, she just another pretty face. Another tight little arse. But she did walk in, all dressed up in a sladky peppermint green dress and pearls braided into her hair, wearing sparkly glazzie paint and simple pink lipgloss. The same notebook in her hand, she'd painted her nails sky blue. The nail of her right thumb was a smudged.

I stood up and bowed like a true gentleman, grabbing her tiny rooker and kissing it. She smiled and sat down next to me, she opened up the notebook: Maybe to save trees; I should start teaching you sign language? I had to suppress the urge to roll my glazzies, (no you stupid little cunt. I don't want to learn sign language. All I want from you is that sladky malenky piece of flesh between your legs.) and wrote back Perhaps later, my darling, my head hurts a little I'm afraid. Would you like me to order for you?

That would be very nice. I'll just have what you're having

I raised my rooker, a pretty waitress (name tag: Susanna…hmm) walked over; when she spoke she had a southern belle voice. "Hi honey, what can I do you for?" I flashed her a charming smile, "Two plates of steaks and fries; thank you my lovely" she smiled at me all coyly and the stupid malenky twat next to me didn't react at all, she was looking down and her hands and smiling foolishly; blushing even.

Where are you from, sweetheart?

New York City. I lik-(she scribbled this out) I really love to paint, what do you like to do?

Oh an artist, I figured you'd be the artistic type. I really enjoy music, particularly Beethoven

I miss music. I wasn't always like this. When I was little I could hear, I remember Beethoven. I can't remember exactly what it sounded like but I remember it was lovely. I hate being like this, I would give anything to be able to hear; everybody just takes it for granted.

Beethoven was deaf, my darling. And he's a legend, don't let your disability define who you are or what you will achieve in life. Would you like to come over after we're finished here? My sweet mum is making her famous carrot cake this afternoon and I'm sure she'd love to meet an angel like you

Thank you, Alex. That sounds really nice. I would love to meet your mom

When we were inside, I watched as she looked around for a woman around the age of a mother but found none. I could viddy her start to worry but calm herself down, perhaps she just wasn't home yet or maybe she was in the bathroom; there was no need to start freaking out. I smirked to myself. I placed a gentle hand on her back and guided her towards my bedroom, she kept looking back and then she started getting all confused. She signed at me, "Mother?"

This malenky twat was in my domain now, so I smirked and shook my head no. She stopped moving and jerked her head in the direction of the couch in the living room, as if to suggest we sit down over there instead but I would not have that. I moved to stand behind and began to rub my hands up and down her arms, I kissed her shoulder. She was still holding that stupid notebook so I plucked it from her hands, I thought you wanted to be friends darling? Have I not been kind to you, have I not been a sweet gentleman? The battle was waging inside of her now, she biting her lip again.

But then she followed me into the room. The gloopy little cunt.

I pulled her into me and kissed her hard on the lips, her rookers pushed against my chest but I only deepend the kiss. Then I grabbed her hips and lifted her malenky plott up; tossing her onto my bed. I pinned her down with my own stronger body, and she looked up at me with a like poogly expression shaking her head "No" and I could viddy that she wanted to like scream or cry or something, my brothers. But she hadn't spoken or made much sound for years now it seemed and couldn't remember how it worked. She started making strange short gaspy sounds, like the beginning of sobs that were cut off before anyone could tell they were sobs in the first place.

She put up a hell of a drat, kicking and clawing at me and squirming around. Not an inch of her was still, it was amusing for a minoota or two but my cock was just begging to plunge into her so I had no choice but to tolchock her pretty litso with the back of my rooker, real horrorshow. She went limp, tears rolled down her face and her mouth opened and closed; she was sucking in air rapidly as if trying to build up words or even a sound of plea. A sound did come out, a broken sobbing sort of sound. Like a scratched record that hadn't been played in centuries.

I pinned her down by the throat as I reached down to push up her dress, she started kicking again and twisting under my plott so I curled my rooker into a tight fist and slammed it down into her lower stomach; grinning as all the air was pushed out of her and her agonized pain bloomed across her litso. Even in her weakened state she still pushed at me, no matter. I pulled down her panties, pulled out my pan-handle, and grabbed her slender throat in my hand; and then I like plunged inside.

She was a virgin of course, her tightness throbbed and squeezed me and she did make a sound. It was like a rusty scream, tears were pouring down her litso. Her face was all scrunched up from the horrible agony, I gave her the old in out in out real savage, oh my brothers. The bed shook and creaked with every thrust I gave, her fingernails were digging into my forearms as she cried in her silent anguish.

Two hours later I had her face down with her arse sticking out, I'd never been an ass man but that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate a sladky tight arse when it came my way. I fucked her for another forty minutes before bursting with a primal deep growl and collapsing on top of her. She could not move very much at all beneath my plott, I kissed the back of her neck. The notebook was on the floor next to the bed, having been dropped in the initial fight.

I reached down to pick it up, I opened it to a random page and wrote: Thank you darling. You're the best fuck I've had this week I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked on it forcing her head up so she could viddy my little love note to her. She whimpered softly when she saw it, more tears rolling down her face. I got off of her and grabbed her forearm, yanking her off the bed. There was blood staining my sheets. And then I like shoved her out and closed the door behind her.

I figured it was time for some lovely Ludwig Van.

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