"I was hoping we could um--that you would want to spend more time with me." Ricken stood in front of Maribelle with flush cheeks and incredible difficulty at trying to spit out the words he wanted to say. He didn't feel great about his chances, but he clung desperately to hope, looking up at Maribelle. "Only if you wanted to! Only if you felt the same way I do."
"Oh, of course. I would love to have you for tea some time, Ricken. You are like the little brother I never had, feel free to come by any time you wish." She gave him a happy wave in passing. Ricken had been worried that asking her out in the supply closet would make her feel boxed in, but he knew it was the only chance he could find to get her alone. It didn't matter one bit, because Maribelle almost walked through him, passing without a concern, let alone the realization of what he was asking her. She simply brushed by all of it without a second care, the thoughtless passing that left Ricken standing stupefied, embarrassed, and without any good way to handle how completely embarrassing this all was. He felt confused, boxed in, worn down, and there wasn't much to do but let it happen.
Ricken was left to stand there completely embarrassed. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to even begin to address that. For a few minutes, he didn't move, frozen in place and holding the flowers that she hadn't even noticed in his outstretched hand; there was absolutely nothing that could help him out from this dire situation, and he felt deeply ashamed of it while wondering what he could do to make this all better.
"Little brother, eh?" said the Vaike, sidling up into the closet with a big smirk on his lips. He'd seen the whole thing, and now felt like slipping in to laugh at him. "You are never going to be anything to her but a little boy."
"I'm not a little boy!" Ricken shouted. "I'm a man!"
"Yeah, sure you are," he scoffed. "But hey, I'm your buddy, I'm here to help. Maybe what Maribelle needs is just to see you from a different angle. I know a way you can supercharge that growth spurt you've been waitin' so long for, and once that's done, you'll have her all over you. Guaranteed."
"What is it?" Ricken asked, looking in shock at the Vaike and hoping for the best. "I'll do anything."
"It's simple. It's simple! You just have to take those flowers with you to Tharja and ask her to 'make you a man'. Very important. She'll use the flowers to make you a potion to make you all tall. She'll handle the rest."
Ricken nodded along eagerly. Tharja was an incredible mage, capable of all sorts of magic that Ricken could never imagine, including the sorts of spells that a respectable wizard like him would never know. She knew a lot of dark things, a lot of questionable things, and he was happy to believe that she would have for him the wisdom he needed. "That's a great idea," he said, cluelessly going along with the idea. It was easy to believe it would work. Such a simple idea. Such a brilliant way to get to what he needed and work it all out. Ricken didn't have a single worry in his head about what he was getting in to or about the possible repercussions to it. He just saw a chance to do what he wanted to get through this, and believed that surely he wouldn't be steered the wrong way by a friend.
The Vaike watched him scurry off with a big smirk on his face. "Poor kid," he said. He didn't bother to follow after Ricken, knowing that however Tharja responded to the gross insult of Ricken's proposition, the whole camp would hear it. Yes, he was kicking the kid while he was down, but he was just a kid, and he could use some hard lessons now while he was still young.
Sublimely clueless and hopeful that he could find the manhood he needed, Ricken rushed over to Tharja's tent with a big smile on his face. She was hunched over some books, fingers weaving the beginnings of hexes, only for him to rush in and to catch her attention. She looked up, tongue clicking in disgust, ready to chide him for what he was doing. But before she could say anything, Ricken in all of his hurried intensity stuck the flowers out toward her in offering and said, "Tharja, I want you to make me a man!"
A sound escaped from Tharja's throat, a half-scoffed burst of pure surprise and intrigue at the overbearing glee in his voice, at the sheer wrongness of this situation. Looking up and down at the young boy's body, she found herself intrigued, and a simple, "Okay," was all she offered him. Rising up from her seat, she strode forward, deciding that she was going to see if he could indeed prove worth anything to her. "You will have to take your pants off."
"I will?" Ricken asked, but he quickly thought better of complaining. "Okay," he said, nodding along. He stepped further into the tent so his ass wouldn't hang out of the end of it, coming up fin front of Tharja and showing off his penis.
It was definitely the penis of a little boy.
"Oh," she said, openly unamused by it. She prodded at his dick. A kid his age wasn't usually packing, but she found herself unimpressed with it nonetheless, prodding at it with a single finger. "Does it get hard?" she asked as if unsure if it worked properly.
"Just give it a sec," Ricken whined. He was embarrassed all the more as she put a spotlight on this hopeless situation, knowing that cooperating with Tharja was the best move; she was an often mercurial presence, and if he didn't do right by what she wanted, he knew he'd be in trouble, so he rushed into the tent and braced himself as best he could for this. Her prodding attentions made his dick twitch harder to life, an embarrassed, mewling shame holding him tight as he offered himself up to Tharja and felt all the more frustrated trying to offer a view of himself.
But Tharja had a good sense that she could make this work out in her favour. Finally, he grew hard. Unimpressive, uninteresting. A little dick for a little boy. Tharja gave him another look up and down as if giving this whole thing a second thought, but fortunately for Ricken deciding to stay with it. "Very well," she said, leaning forward and taking his dick into her mouth. Her lips took it all in effortlessly, puckered tight to provide a seal over his dick. Ricken yelped out in surprise at the attention, but she was insistent, firm and attentive in what she was after, forcing him to have to receive all this untoward affection.
"Is this--" Ricken whined, cutting himself off for fear that if he crossed her, she would end this. Whatever it was. His body tightened in dizzier pressure, feelings making him feel all the more uncertain and tense while he received the sheer insistence behind all this wicked pleasure. It was a lust and a confusion he found himself stuck in, the impossible weight of pressures forcing him ever deeper into confusion, the struggles and the shames keeping him trying his best to understand what he felt. "I hope this helps."
Tharja said nothing. She remained dedicated in tight focus on the pressure of making him have to give up to what she demanded, her touch imposing upon him something that didn't feel sensible. Her mouth remained reckless and forceful in the ways she made him twitch and whine, his little dick providing her pitiful entertainment and an unenthused pressure that left her wondering if she was wasting her time here with this. She had her schemes, though, plans building in her head and pushing at her focus with a tension that she knew would come back around her in her favour if only she committed to this and made it count. Harder she pushed forward, imposing herself on Ricken and refusing to slow the pace of this senseless attention.
Ricken struggled to hold it together, his sensitive, little dick twitching in her mouth. He continued to whine in growing uncertainty, a dizzy pressure making her him feel so hopeless and so confused. he wanted to be stronger and steadier than this, finding himself sliding into the dizzier and shakier pressure making him feel the burning pressures thrilling him into confusion and panic.
He wasn't cumming fast enough for her liking, and she found herself so bored sucking him off that she decided to at least goad something out of him. She slipped a pair of fingers up his ass in an abrupt slide making him holler out, twitching and throbbing in a truly hopeless burst of excitement. Ricken made such adorably hopeless noises, a helpless pressure making his hips buck about, and she pulled back just in time to be able to catch his load in her hand. Not that there was much of a 'load' for her to deal with; a thin little spurt of water cum onto her hand. She looked down at it with a shrug; it was enough. Not much, but it would fulfill her purposes.
"Did you need that?" Ricken asked, looking down nervously at her hand and his cum in it. "Did that help? He was deeply embarrassed to have been doing this at all, but he had to hope that it was for some higher purpose.
"It did," she said, hiding her disappointment spreading it out across her palm. "Be quiet." She muttered her hex, working it with a steady approach carefully building up what she wanted in her mind, an insistence escalating while she created the magical keys to what she needed, lit up with cravings and tensions building to an unstoppable point of total insanity. She worked it up and then cast upon his cum her hex, then flung it back at his crotch, the fluid leaving her hand and striking his dick, hitting him with a tingling so intense he fell back onto his ass, shouting in surprise.
Tharja didn't give him a moment's rest, shifting forward and grabbing his cock, stroking along it and inspiring shaky bursts of an unexpected heat swelling within him, something that Ricken didn't see coming and didn't know how to manage in the face of growing excitement and confusion. His dick grew, rising longer and thicker in her hand as each pump worked the spell on him that she had created. "It had to be your cum so that I could shape you," she explained, giving Ricken some sort of relief, but only a little bit as he stared hopelessly down at his growing dick and at the surprising intensity behind all these weird and hazy lusts.
Watching in disbelief as his cock grew in her hand, Ricken was treated to the most stunning and baffling expression of senseless excitement, greed building into unstoppable pressure and insistence, the ever-escalating heat guiding him to lose his mind to these feelings. "Wow! It's working! I'm a man now."
"And what a man," Tharja purred. Not out of any compliment for him, but due to what she was creating: a replica of Robin's cock. With a wicked smirk spreading across her face, she gave Ricken Robin's dick, although to fully- as big as he was, as generously as he was endowed, she let it be a little smaller, on the idea that the real thing could still be bigger and one day give her something extra special. But in the heat of this moment, all that she cared about was making it work out at all. She had researched it well and let her mind's eye beg her into this direction, granting this over-eager boy something that could make him feel good about himself without the slightest realization that she was damning him with each stroke. There was no restraint to this, a storm of pure pleasure to carry her further along and to make him lose himself.
"With a penis like this, I'll be sure to impress Maribelle!" he exclaimed, his body tightening up in sweet excitement, the frustration of the confrontational insistence leaving him awestruck and excitable, overwhelmed by the simple pleasures upon him and all of the wicked pressures keeping him in such a strange space. Rising up to leave, he had nothing but hopes for his efforts to now try again at getting Maribelle's attention.
Tharja scoffed. "That's nice," she said, doubting that heavily. She dismissed Ricken outright, eyes narrowing as her excitement swept up hotter and she pondered the possibilities awaiting her. She seized him and threw him onto her bed, slithering up his body instead and pinning him down, grabbing his cock and grinding herself against it. Peeling her clothes off, she got her bare pussy, slick and ready to enjoy something, grinding against him. Ricken himself had no appeal for her and blowing him had left her bone dry, but making the facsimile of Robin's cock was, finally, something she could appreciate and be excited about, and oh how it excited her now.
"Wait," gasped Ricken, his new cock throbbing and over-sensitive in her clutches, feeling the warmth radiating off of her mound while she writhed against him. "Stop, hold on! I want to lose my virginity to Maribelle."
"No," was Tharja's blunt and careless answer before slamming herself down onto his cock without a care. "I gave it to you, and I should be the one to break it in," she explained, teeming with deception and delight while she impaled herself onto the big dick, letting loose moans of sweet ecstasy building with single-minded passion, a pleasure too wicked for sense, unrestrained in its desperate and senseless pressures. Tharja's hips crashed down in hammering greed upon the big dick awaiting her, and she was happy to have so completely seized control now of this hopeless situation.
Writhing in dizzier panic while he received this 'loving' treatment. Ricken hollered out in surprise, struggling under the attention of Tharja's snug pussy begging down around his dick. He found himself lost to this urgent and messy heat, a chaos throbbing hotter and messier through his body with a damning slide into feelings that didn't feel the least bit reasonable now, the senseless persistence and insanity of feelings making him feel weirder and worse under this attention. It felt amazing, his hips bucking upward while Tharja took advantage of him, a questionable treatment inviting him to fall into these weirder feelings of senseless and sweeping pressures.
But he still tried to push her off, forcing Tharja to lean forward and overpower him some more, holding down his arms. "Do not fight this. Men would kill for me. Men have killed for me." Tharja snarled through the fury, continuing to act with dramatic fever to stifle him and to keep this in a situation under her control, driven by absolute madness to continue appreciating the steady senselessness imposing upon him such a dramatic and hopeless situation. Tharja would not take no for an answer, imposing herself again and again upon him in harsher shows of greed and passion, a refusal to hold it together and refuse these burning attentions.
"But Maribelle," whined Ricken, feeling ashamed and confused, wound up by this insane woman fucking herself on his cock with a brutal and shameless elation. The deranged cost of what she'd given him--which he hadn't actually asked for—left him in a strange place, feeling so awful and ashamed while she made a mess of him, a mockery of these pressures forcing her to have to surrender bit by bit into things that tore him asunder. Ricken had no control and no stability while being taken to these limits, throbbing in hotter embarrassment and panic while these feelings all became the most ruthless and most demanding attention he could have imagined.
Desperation built stronger within him while he fell deeper, worries leaving him whining, panicked, aching for some semblance of control and hope under the weight now of senseless greed. It was a brutality and a shame that became more than he was able to manage, but the pleasures became too much for him to resist. His struggles fell away, his refusals melting down into eased frustration and near-reluctant acceptance while he gave in to this now, the pleasures so dizzying and so brutal while they made a mess of her focus. There wasn't anything even remotely sensible or decent in all these wicked feelings, surges of a pleasure dragging her into confusion and draining fever while she accepted the intensity and the ugliness making a mess of her thoughts. It felt too good, all of these wicked delights feeling so merciless and intoxicating, and all she had to do was roll now with the attentions coming crashing down upon her.
"Maybe this can teach me," whined Ricken, writhing under the attentions from Tharja in growing panic. "It feels really good, and I can learn how to pleasure Maribelle."
"Of course it feels good," scoffed Tharja, a smug delight pushing her to want to keep indulging in, appreciating the situation driving her crazier and crazier while she slammed down onto his dick with tireless obsession. Obsessive and unreasonable, Tharja threw everything she had into trying to make the most of this.
Ricken bucked in hotter desperation, a heated indulgence trapping him in a desperate vigor and a glee he could do nothing to manage. It felt too good, all inviting his hopeless surrender to excitements and passions leaving nothing to change. There was only the surging obsession and bliss behind this joy. He was lost to this entrapping bliss, feelings of confusion and chaos inviting him to fall into deeper, hotter frustrations while this became simply too much for him to understand, feelings so desperately grating and draining while he fell into these hotter confusions, a dizzier mania and a deeper panic leaving him with little to do but appreciate, under the weight of this mess, how close he was to falling apart completely. There was nothing reasonable in all of this, the messy and fanatical chaos guiding him into a state of ground-down panic, the frustrations all building to the overbearing bliss of spectacle and chaos, something he had no idea how to manage but every intention of giving himself in to, the persistence of crumbling and dizzying pressure making him feel so fucking good.
But just before he was about to let himself give in to it, Tharja lifted up, sliding along his cock and throwing her head back, expertly avoiding letting him cum inside ash er orgasm hit. Ricken hollered through embarrassment and worry as he in turn came all over her thighs and her belly, painting a rope of cum across her mound, but not finding the relief of cumming inside of her. It was the best orgasm he'd ever felt, fuelled by the sheer volume erupting from his cock. He screamed out in joy, amazed by how good this felt and how ready he was to embrace the burning delights and ecstasies now pulsing across him so dramatically. But he couldn't find any ground to make sense of all now, confusions and hungers and desperate joys leaving him in a place of absolute panic. "Why can't I cum in you?" he hollered, falling apart a little bit in the frustrated throes of these senseless, aching desires.
Tharja scoffed "Who do you think you are? Robin is the only one allowed to knock me up; not some little boy."
The words triggered something fierce and furious inside of Ricken; he couldn't contain the anger swelling up within him, throwing himself forward and knocking Tharja down, his turn t pin her as he slammed his cock back into him, screaming, "I am not a little boy!" as he rutted madly away at her. His anger was overbearing, driven by the disrespect that he couldn't escape, even form a woman who gave him something like this. He was furious, overwhelmed, and lost to the simplicity of feelings begging him to act without care or respect, burning up with fiercer aggression and desire for what begged him to let go. He found it impossible to hold together, feelings of sloppy desperation urging him to let loose and give in to all of it, abandoning his own decency to fuck a lesson into her.
"Be careful," hissed Tharja, shaking her head.
"No," Ricken said. 'I'm done being careful. I'm done being afraid. From now on, I'm going to take risks, I'm going to be a man!" Ricken had gone through enough disrespect,, and he was determined to work trough the chaos taking him to such an ugly place. He felt like the only path before him of any conscionable action was going to be to fuck wildly into her and pound her stupid, the urgency behind feelings as reckless and frantic as he could muster, all to put her into her place. Messy, ruthless pleasures urged him to keep fucking without a care, the ruthlessness and passion of feelings begging him only to keep giving up to this. Ricken had to find the grounding he needed to finally act, and to feel like he was in control.
"You have no idea what you're doing," moaned Tharja, refusing to hold back or pretend this didn't feel good, but burning with the incredible ache and craving of desire she couldn't pretend she wasn't feeling good. This cock, modeled after the man she loved's, hit the spot just right. It was a clash of sensations and sensory insanities only making hr feel better about how far she fell, the desperation urging her to keep giving in, awash in the molten joy of merciless surrender, feelings too wicked to be able to contain and too wild for anything to hold her together through.
"I know what I'm doing. I'm finally doing what I need to do. I'm in charge!" Ricken power tripped with his new cock, slamming into Tharja wilder, greedier, trying to make a confident push to seize focus and prove himself. He was in over his head in the process, but he felt the ravenous urgency beg him along, keeping up the ferocious pace and the pleasure of things that didn't feel reasonable. The untamed, unchained fever behind his thrusts were all too much for Ricken to ignore, the persistence and the delight of pleasures he refused to slow down with, determined to let each thrust speak for itself in breaking through this madness without a care. He fucked into Tharja like he owned her, determined to make something of this hopeless situation and all of the greedy bursts of lust getting the better of him. It felt too good, all pushing his limits, all demanding that he do something, anything, to prove he was deserving of her respect.
"Only Robin can cum in me! There's a spell, there's--"
Ricken shoved his lips against hers, silencing Tharja and fondling her tits, throwing himself into this with a hopeless need to prove himself at the cost of any consideration that her warnings may have held some sort of purpose. "I don't care!" He continued to prove himself, nothing else in the world mattering to him like this moment of surging, senseless delight, a decadence and a frustration feverishly begging him to act on feelings of outrageous delight and greed he had to let ruin him. This was now, for Ricken, the only opportunity to prove himself. He would be a man, he would plunge her into insanity, he would prove himself capable of making her break for him, and if he could do that, then Maribelle would come easily to him too. He would be able to do all of it, get everything he wanted.
So caught up in this mess, Ricken didn't notice the lighting-up of markings over her womb, a tattoo binding her hex to her long ago. Ricken continued to hammer madly forward, paying no mind to her, thrown into the wicked depths of his hunger with less and less in the way of restraint to save him from himself. He'd been warned, but he didn't heed it, and Tharja decided she had spared enough effort to make him realize there was danger lying in wait; she'd tried and had found nothing for that trouble to help him through this. So be it. She was ready to let him make a mess of this all himself if he was so desperate; a real man would have been able to resist temptation better than this.
Ricken came with a scream of triumph, "I am a man!" as he filled her womb with his load, taking charge with destructive glee and a pressure building up into the most relentless, reckless bursts of ecstasy he could manage. This was his moment to prove himself, and as Tharja came along with him, he felt like he was invincible, like he had proven something here. He was on top of the world, and he was--
Ricken's body seized up a moment before going utterly limp. His eyes shut as he went totally powerless on top of her. Tharja purred.
"I warned you," she cooed. "Only Robin can cum in me, but you were nothing but a foolish little boy." Rolling him onto his back, Tharja purred. "Shall we go again, Robin?" Staying impaled on his dick and getting to work at riding him with unhesitating fever, she showed absolutely no care for the way he lay helpless and unmoving underneath her.
******************************************
"Once again, if you would," Chrom said, sitting there with a dejected, tired look on his face. "Please, Tharja."
"Anything you can tell us helps," Robin added with a slightly more helpful tone in his voice. But he and Chrom were both feeling the drain.
Tharja sighed, but held her tongue when it came to comments that would have only been unhelpful. "Ricken came to my tent, dropped his pants, and asked me to 'make him a man'," she claimed. "My response was to chide him. Quite fairly, I would say, given he indecently exposed himself to me. Whatever I did say must have scared him, for he proceeded to scurry off in fear of me."
"And you don't know where he went?" Chrom asked. "Not even a direction?"
"Left," Tharja said with an acerbic bite in her voice. "I did not care to pursue him. Perhaps he realized he was out of his depth and fled to go find some dolls to play with under the eye of some responsible adults who would take care of him and coddle him. Truthfully, I believe children are unfit for military work; a strange position that I should have to take, but perhaps this is why I am not royalty."
"That's enough," Chrom said. He stared daggers at Tharja, an anger that she returned gladly as she stared Chrom down, the Exalt not able to intimidate her into anything helpful. They were stuck at a horrible middle ground, the grinding standstill of a situation that left him feeling awful. Chrom didn't trust Tharja for an instant, the dark mage holding some clear sort of secret over this. Her story was too convenient, and nobody had seen Ricken flee. And yet there had been no sign of him anywhere. Maybe Chrom didn't trust her, but Robin did, and as Chrom looked toward his advisor, he received a sage nod. Chrom's personal feelings were not objective fact, and he deferred in matters like this to his tactician. If Robin believed her, then Chrom would have been only guiding them down unhelpful paths trying to steer the investigation toward an innocent woman. But he did still have to object to the insulting ways she spoke of Ricken; those were far over the line.
"You can go now," Robin said. "Thank you for your testimony again, Tharja. This is just a hard time for everybody."
"I understand. I am the new woman here, I simply didn't have the attachment to him." Tharja didn't wish them any well in trying to find him, she just took her leave, letting Chrom and Robin both chase ghosts in trying to find Ricken. All she could do was not smile on her way out.
******************************************
"You were the little brother I never had," Maribelle wept, standing in front of the small grave erected in camp to honour Ricken. In the absence of his body, just some wood and stones to make his 'resting place'. She stood bereaved and sobbing. "Such a sweet, kind boy. I just wish that..." She couldn't bear to say it. "You could have grown into a man I would love. I didn't even realize it, and I took you for granted." The tears flowed easily now; Maribelle was so distraught by the loss of Ricken, by feeling like she had been responsible for it when she found out she had rejected him and that that exchange sent him into the path he took.
The Vaike came up from behind. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself. He was just a kid with a precocious crush, you couldn't have known that would happen."
"I suppo--"
"But the Vaike over here is a big, strong, fully grown man packing a huge dick, so what would you say to meeting up at my tent in ten minutes so I can help you feel better?"
Maribelle turned around in disgust. "You are a sick, vile man. Your 'prank' led to the death of a sweet little boy who only wanted to be recognized. How do you live yourself?" She was outraged, quivering in tense, hopeless panic, but finally admitted, "Y-yes. Yes, I see you in ten minutes."
*********************************
"Thank you so much for dinner tonight," Tharja said, lingering in front f Robin, not wanting to step away. "I had a wonderful time."
"Yes, so did I," Robin said, and sounded almost surprised by it.
"This is where I get off," she said, gesturing to her tent. "Thank you for walking me back."
Robin let out a surprised little gasp, stunned by the way she acted, but relieved by it. "I'm happy to. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes, and we'll find some time for dinner again once things have calmed down."
"I'd like that a lot." Robin leaned in, surprised when Tharja moved to kiss him only on the cheek. It startled him some more, but he liked it. He liked this new Tharja a lot.
In recent weeks, Tharja had been a lot more normal. She shed her overbearing, stalker-like attitudes, easing down from obsession in a surprising way that Robin tried to manage while growing more and more certain that the strangeness around this was something he could appreciate, in a weird way. She was so sweet, so intense, but without being the singular object of her obsessive thoughts, Robin was able to be something more normal with her, more reasonably focused on the joy of her presence and her company without those usual fears and concerns. He was able to spend wonderful time with her, savouring her presence and the way she seemed so pleasant. What had changed, he didn't know, but Robin was no longer put off, and he was better able to appreciate her beauty, her charms, and even start to fall for her. The idea she was eager to take it slow only made him more interested, not less.
Tharja headed back into her tent with a smile on her face, caressing her fingers along a long trunk kept under her bed. "Wake up, darling," she said, opening it up and easing out of the trunk her other beloved. Ricken's hair had been hexed white and cut just right to resemble Robin's, and over his small body was a heavy robe of Robin's that Tharja had seized from his laundry. He lay down, a puppet guided by orders, lying with his cock sticking up rock hard and ready for Tharja to revel in.
Grabbing his dick and sliding herself down onto it, Tharja's head rolled back, moans ringing out in sweet ecstasy. "My sweet, beloved Robin, I loved spending tonight with you. Please allow me to reward you for being such a gentleman."
Tharja was not lying when she said that, by the power of her hex, only Robin could cum inside of her. The mistake Ricken made was to stumble into that technicality, and now, to 'be' Robin. To be locked away in his own mind, a prisoner stuck in his body, unable to act or speak or scream like he wanted to. Tharja had her lesser Robin ready to be used and to vent out all of her frustrations, and only through venting her obsessions with him, by letting Ricken be her captive sex doll version of Robin, was she able to 'be normal' for the genuine article.
Ricken begged silently for death while this beautiful woman bounced on his cock. He would not receive that mercy. Tharja knew the torment he faced and reveled in making him suffer, a fitting punishment for being the kind of creep who would barge in and as her to take his virginity like she was a common whore.