I am the true Bully

This is a cautionary tale about looking for the first and easiest answer to problems. If you want happy endings, this story is not for you. It is a rape story

"Detention again, Miller? That's six times this trimester." Principal Davies tapped his pen on the suspension form. "Your parents are coming in tomorrow. We need a real solution."

Outside his office, I kicked a dent into the locker. Six times. Big fucking deal. The other kids scattered like roaches. They knew better than to look me in the eye after third period. Especially that twerp, Ben Harper. His whiny voice still grated in my head from math class. 'Stop it, Miller. Please.' Pathetic.

Mom’s nails dug into my arm the next morning. "Smile and act sorry," she hissed in the parking lot. Inside, the Harpers sat stiffly beside Principal Davies. Ben avoided my stare, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. His mom clutched her purse like a shield. "We’ve discussed options," Davies began. "Given the… severity of incidents, traditional discipline isn’t working."

Mr. Harper leaned forward, voice tight. "Our son can’t focus. He’s terrified." A pause hung heavy in the air. Then Mrs. Harper cleared her throat. "Maybe… time together? Outside school? A week at our place?" Mom’s grip tightened. "Yes," she said too quickly. "Forces them to get along." Davies nodded, relieved. "A trial. Starting Friday."

Ben’s face went pale. I almost laughed. This was perfect. A whole week trapped in his house? With his annoying little sister always hovering? Amber was all big eyes and nervous smiles. She’d brought Ben lunch once. I’d tripped him, sending his sandwich flying. Amber had cried. Weak. All of them.

Friday came. Mom dropped me off with a warning glare. "Behave." Inside the Harper’s tidy living room, I was charm itself. "Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Harper." Ben flinched when I patted his shoulder. Amber peeked around the hallway corner, then vanished. After dinner, the parents left for some fundraiser. "Back by ten!" Mrs. Harper called. The door clicked shut. Silence. Ben edged toward the stairs. "I’ve got homework—"

"Not yet." My voice stopped him cold. I grinned. "We’re bonding, remember?"

Ben froze on the bottom stair. Down the hall, Amber’s bedroom door clicked shut. Soft. Quick. Like a mouse retreating. I leaned against the wall, listening to the Harpers’ minivan crunch gravel down the driveway. The sound faded into the humid night. Silence thickened the air. Only the ticking clock in the living room and Ben’s shallow breathing cut through it. He didn’t move. Didn’t turn. His knuckles were white on the banister.

I pushed off the wall. Slow. Deliberate. My boots thudded softly on the hardwood. "Where’s your sister hiding?" Ben flinched at the question. "Leave her alone, Miller. Please." His voice cracked. Pathetic. I ignored him, walking past the stairs toward the narrow hallway. Amber’s door was pale pink. A glittery unicorn sticker peeling at the corner. I smiled seeing the inconsistancy between this aesthetic and her current age. I didn’t knock. The knob turned easily under my hand.

She was sitting on her bed, knees drawn up, an old paperback novel trembling in her hands. Her eyes widened when she saw me. "Get out!" she whispered, voice thin with fear. I stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind me. The lock clicked. A small, final sound. "Your brother wants you," I lied smoothly. "Living room. Now." Amber shook her head, scrambling back against her headboard. "No he doesn’t. Go away!" I crossed the room in three strides. My hand closed around her thin wrist, yanking her off the bed. She stumbled, a gasp catching in her throat. "He does. And you’re coming."

I dragged her, bare feet stumbling, down the hall. Ben was still frozen on the stairs. "Miller, don’t..." he started. I shoved Amber hard. She fell to her knees on the rug beside the heavy oak armchair. "Tie him to it," I ordered her, tossing a coil of garden twine I’d spotted earlier on the patio. Her hands shook violently. "I won’t!" she sobbed. I backhanded her. Sharp. Brutal. Her head snapped sideways. "Do it. Or I break his fingers. One by one." Ben whimpered. Amber’s tears dripped onto the twine as her trembling fingers began looping it around her brother’s wrists, pulling it tight against the chair’s sturdy arms. He didn’t fight. Just stared at me, eyes wide with dawning horror. "Good girl," I murmured. The stage was set.

I ripped open Ben’s jeans, yanking them and his boxers down to his ankles. His cock, soft and vulnerable, lay against his thigh. "Make it hard," I told Amber, shoving her head towards his lap. She choked, trying to pull away. "Suck it." When she hesitated, I got a cable tie out of my pocket and tied it around his neck. Before I could pull it tight she clamped down around his cock with her mouth. She gagged, lips brushing his flaccid skin. "Suck!" I snarled. Tears streamed down her face as she opened her mouth, taking him in. Ben cried out, a strangled sound of shame. "Amber, no!" he gasped. But she worked, clumsy and terrified, until his cock stiffened against her tongue, trapped by the pressure and the awful intimacy.

I needed her anchored. Ben’s belt lay coiled on the floor beside his discarded jeans. I snatched it up. Roughly, I looped the thick leather belt around Ben’s waist, just above his hips, pulling it painfully tight. He grunted. Then, I grabbed Amber’s hair again, forcing her head down onto his now-hard cock. She gasped, her lips stretched wide around him. Yanking her head back just enough, I threaded the loose end of the belt over her skull, cinching it down brutally behind her head. The buckle bit into her scalp. "There," I grunted, pulling the strap taut through the buckle. It locked her face onto his groin, her mouth forced wide around his cock, her nose pressed into his skin. She couldn’t pull back far enough to dislodge his cock from her mouth. Couldn’t turn away. Only shallow, panicked breaths escaped her nostrils. Ben screamed, thrashing uselessly against the ropes binding his wrists. "Stop! Please, Miller, stop!"

Her thin pajama pants and underwear were nothing. I ripped them down her legs, exposing her pale, trembling ass. Her pussy was a small, tight slit, hidden between smooth, hairless lips. She was utterly exposed. I spat onto my fingers, then roughly shoved two into her dry, clenching hole. She shrieked against Ben’s cock, the sound muffled, vibrating against his flesh. He bucked wildly, but the belt held her fast. "Please," he sobbed, "not her!" I ignored him, pulling my fingers out slick with her terror. My own cock strained against my jeans. I unzipped, freeing it, thick and hard. I pressed the swollen head against her tight pussy lips, feeling them yield slightly under the pressure. "Hold still," I growled, lining myself up. "This is what happens to weak girls." And then I thrust forward, hard, burying myself to the hilt inside her virgin cunt in one brutal stroke. Her body arched violently, a guttural scream tearing from her throat, trapped against her brother’s skin.

She was impossibly tight, clenching around me threatening to pinch it off. I grabbed her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and started fucking her. Deep, savage thrusts that slammed her body forward onto Ben’s trapped cock with every drive. Her pussy lips stretched obscenely around my shaft, slick now with blood and forced lubrication. Ben was screaming, a continuous, high-pitched wail of horror as he felt his sister’s body convulse against him, felt her hot tears drip onto his thighs. Amber’s muffled cries were choked by his cock filling her mouth. I could feel her tiny clit rubbing against the base of my cock with each brutal plunge. I fucked her harder, faster, the wet slap of my hips against her ass echoing in the room, mingling with Ben’s sobs and the creak of the chair. I leaned over her back, breathing hard. "Feel that, Ben?" I hissed. "That’s your sister’s cunt taking my cock. She loves it." I reached around, finding her swollen clit with my thumb, rubbing it hard in rough circles as I pounded into her. Her body jerked, a strangled moan escaping her. "See? She’s coming on my cock." Ben cried out, “I'm sorry Amber, I can't hold back anymore...”

I felt the familiar tightening in my own balls, the unstoppable surge. I shoved deep, grinding against her ass, and emptied myself inside her. Hot pulses of cum flooded her tight, violated pussy. I held myself there, buried to the root, feeling her tremble around me and my tip pressed tightly against the entrance to her womb. Finally, I pulled out. My cock, slick with her blood and my cum, glistened in the lamplight. Amber collapsed forward, limp, her face still strapped to Ben’s groin. Her pussy lips were red, swollen, gaping slightly, dripping white onto the carpet. Ben stared down at her ruined face, his own cock now soft and wet with her saliva and tears, his expression shattered. I zipped up my jeans. "Remember," I said, my voice cold and calm. "You tell anyone, and I show everyone the video I took on my phone. Your parents will see you both like this. Forever." The silence that followed was thick with terror.

Amber was still. I unbuckled the belt from her head. She slid off Ben’s lap, landing in a heap, her pajama pants tangled around her ankles, her exposed pussy still leaking my cum onto the rug. She didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. Just stared blankly at the wall. I untied Ben, roughly shoving him off the chair. He crumpled to the floor, scrambling to pull up his jeans, his hands shaking too badly to fasten the button. "Clean her up," I ordered Ben. "Get her to her room. And get this mess off the carpet before your parents get back." He flinched at my voice but crawled towards his sister, his movements jerky with shock. I watched him try to pull her pants up, his fingers fumbling near her raw, sticky slit. He couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t look at her face.

The front door lock clicked. "Kids? We’re home!" Mrs. Harper’s cheerful voice echoed from the foyer. Ben froze, pure panic flashing across his face. Amber whimpered, curling into a tight ball, trying to hide her nakedness. I stepped smoothly in front of them, blocking the view from the hallway. "Everything’s fine, Mrs. Harper!" I called back, my voice easy, pleasant. "Just helping Ben with some… spilled soda." I glanced down at Ben, my eyes hard. "Isn’t that right?" He nodded frantically, tears streaking his cheeks. "Y-yes. Soda." He grabbed a throw pillow and frantically covered the wet, dark stain on the rug – a mix of my cum, her blood, and his sister’s terror. Mrs. Harper bustled in, smiling. "Oh, good! Miller, you’re such a help." She didn’t see Amber trembling on the floor behind the armchair. Didn’t see the raw hatred in Ben’s eyes as he looked at me. She saw only the polite, reformed bully. The perfect solution.

The week dragged on. I slept in Ben’s room. He lay rigid in his bed, facing the wall, every night. Amber avoided everyone, locking herself in her room. Her face was pale, her eyes hollow. She flinched whenever I passed her in the hall. Once, when we were alone in the kitchen, I caught her staring at her flat stomach in the reflection of the microwave door. Her hand hovered there, trembling. I leaned close, my breath hot on her ear. "Don’t worry," I whispered. "If it takes, you’ll keep it quiet. Or Ben pays. And the whole school sees." She didn’t look at me. Just nodded once, a tiny, broken movement. The seed was planted. Deep. And the silence was already growing roots.

Two months later, Amber missed her period. She threw up every morning. Mrs. Harper bustled around her, worried. "Must be a stomach bug, sweetheart." Ben watched it all, his face grey. He cornered me after school one day, fists clenched, shaking. "She’s pregnant," he hissed. "You did this!" I shoved him hard against the lockers. "And?" I smiled. "You gonna tell? Show Mom and Dad the video of you getting your dick sucked? Of her screaming while I split her open?" His defiance crumpled. He looked down, shoulders slumping. "Just… leave her alone now." Pathetic. He was already broken. Amber was just the proof.

The pregnancy test was positive. Amber cried in the bathroom stall at school. I heard her. I waited. When she came out, eyes red, I blocked her path. "Remember the rules," I said, low and cold. "It’s yours and Ben’s secret. You tell them it’s some boy from camp. Or I make sure everyone knows the truth. Every. Single. Detail." She pressed a hand over her mouth, stifling a sob. "Okay," she whispered, the word barely audible. "Okay, Miller." She walked away, shoulders hunched. The fear was thicker than blood now. Binding them. Silencing them.

At the family meeting, the Harpers looked devastated. "A boy from summer camp?" Mr. Harper asked, bewildered. "She won’t say who." Amber sat stiffly, staring at her hands in her lap. Ben wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze. I sat beside my mom, the picture of concerned support. "That’s terrible," I murmured, shaking my head. "Poor Amber." Inside, I was laughing. My mom squeezed my arm. "See?" she whispered to Mrs. Harper. "The time together really helped Miller." Mrs. Harper managed a weak smile. "Yes. Thank you for your… kindness." Amber flinched at the word. Ben stared at the wall, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. The lie was set. The secret safe. And I’d won. Completely.

Weeks passed. Amber’s belly began to show, a small curve beneath her baggy sweaters. She avoided everyone, especially her former best friend, Rose. They’d been inseparable since kindergarten. Until now. I watched them one afternoon near the lockers. Rose cornered Amber, voice sharp. "Who was it, Amber? Why won’t you tell me? I tell you everything!" Amber tried to push past. "Leave me alone, Rose!" Rose grabbed her arm. "Was it someone gross? Someone from that camp?" Amber yanked free, her eyes wild with panic. "Just drop it!" she hissed. "We’re not friends anymore!" Rose recoiled like she’d been slapped. Amber fled. Rose stood there, tears welling. The fracture was perfect. Another piece broken.

One rainy Tuesday, Amber approached me as I left school. Her eyes were red-rimmed, desperate. Rain plastered her hair to her forehead. "Rose won’t stop," she whispered, voice trembling. "She keeps asking. She won’t believe it was some camp boy." She swallowed hard, looking over her shoulder. "She’s telling people I’m lying. That I’m… dirty." Her hand hovered over her stomach. Then she looked up at me, her gaze suddenly sharp. "Make her stop. Like you stopped Ben. Like you stopped me." She leaned closer, her breath fogging the cold air. "Rape her. Hurt her. So she shuts up. So she understands." The request hung between us, raw and ugly. I stared at her. The victim demanding another victim. The silence had twisted her. Corrupted her. It was almost beautiful.

I tilted my head, studying her desperate face. The fear had become something else. Something worse. She wasn’t just scared anymore. She was broken. And she wanted to break Rose too. "Rape her?" I repeated slowly, letting the word hang in the damp air. Amber nodded, a frantic jerk of her head. "Yes. Please. Make her feel it." I let the silence stretch, watching the hope and horror war in her eyes. Finally, I gave her a slow, cold smile. "I’ll think about it." I turned and walked away into the rain, leaving her standing there. The seed was planted. Again. And the story? It ends here.

With Amber’s request hanging in the air, thick with the promise of more ruin, leave a comment if you want the story to continue.