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Archive name: apoetry.txt
Authors name: Goldrush (goldrush@aussiemail.com.au)
Story title : Poetry Recital - 1

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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Poetry Recital - 1
by Goldrush (goldrush@aussiemail.com.au)

***

Joe, a waiter in a coffee bar, befriends a naive young 
student named Alison by listening to her poetry. But 
Joe has designs on the sexy teenager that have nothing 
to do with her sensitive soul. When Alison accepts an 
invitation to his house, she finds herself the only 
female guest. (MM/F-teen, rp, tor, v, oral, nc)

***

I guess the problem is this. I don't have a whole lot 
of self-control. Sometimes I act on impulse, and when I 
do I can often end up doing things that I feel sorry 
for later.

I guess Alison Holmes comes under that heading.

Alison was in her first year at one of the Oxford 
colleges, studying English Literature. She used to come 
into the coffee bar where I work most days, and I have 
to say I really fancied her. A petite blonde with very 
large breasts, a slender waist and full hips, her huge 
blue eyes and heart-shaped face made her look a lot 
younger than her eighteen years. But then I guess you 
are still young at eighteen. Certainly, Alison was 
naïve about some things - and it got her into a lot of 
trouble in the end. Or, if you look at it another way, 
I did.

I do read a lot and I try to keep up to date with 
reviews and stuff, so when the lit crowd were in I 
could usually keep up with their discussions. I got to 
know most of them by name, and although I'm a high 
school drop-out in my early thirties I had a sort of 
honorary status at the edge of the crowd.

Alison wrote her own stuff - poems, mostly - and she 
used to talk about it a lot without ever showing it to 
anyone. She had a thick, soft-covered notebook with 
IDEAS written on the cover that she took with her 
everywhere.

Anyway one day she came in by herself when the place 
was quiet and I coaxed her to read me one of her poems. 
At last she agreed. It was shit - a load of sentimental 
arse about how her heart was a locked silver box - but 
I pretended to be really impressed and I told her that 
she should get herself an agent. She was pleased and 
flattered, and she went out of the café really happy.

She'd have been a lot less happy if she'd known what 
was in my mind.

After that I worked on her gradually over the course of 
a month or so. Whenever she was in I'd ask her to read 
me something, and whatever old cobblers it was I'd 
always say I loved it. And I banged on about how she 
should get herself an agent and start to get her work 
published.

"But I don't know anyone," Alison protested. "I 
wouldn't even know where to start."

"Well I'm having a party at my place tonight," I told 
her one day. "And one of the guests is a literary agent 
up from London. I'm not saying he'd take you on, but he 
could look at your stuff and give you an opinion."

Alison was really excited. I gave her the address and 
an approximate time to arrive, and I emphasised that 
the place would be full so she'd have to come alone. No 
boyfriends or mates. She gave me a kiss on the cheek 
and a hug as she left, and thanked me about ten times 
for being such a good friend.

Well, it was good that I was getting my thanks up 
front. I seriously doubted she'd be thanking me once 
the evening was over.

I called up a few mates and told them what was going 
down. Steve was into it right away, because we've done 
similar tricks in the past and he enjoys the set-up 
almost as much as the party. He promised to be there 
early and I told him to spread the word.

In the event he turned up at half past seven and then 
Alison rang the doorbell dead on eight.

"Blimey, you're keen," I said as I looked her up and 
down. I'd said casual, but she was wearing what must 
have been her best white blouse and tartan skirt, and 
one of those floppy bow tie thing that girls wear 
sometimes. She looked like a schoolgirl on a day trip.

I led her through to the living room, where Steve was 
sitting on the sofa. I introduced them, telling Alison 
that Steve was the agent I'd talked to her about. Then 
I left them to talk while I fixed her a drink.

Steve listened to a couple of her poems, nodding 
solemnly. "Great imagery," he'd say, or "yeah, love the 
rhyme scheme there." Alison still hadn't smelled a rat. 
She was glowing under this praise, and it didn't occur 
to her as funny that the party was still just the three 
of us when I'd told her the place would be packed to 
bursting.

Finally Steve took Alison's IDEAS notebook out of her 
hands, stopping her in mid-flow, and put it down on the 
table. "Alison," he said solemnly, "I can call you 
Alison, can't I?"

"Oh yes," she blurted, "please."

"Well here's the thing. And there's good news and bad 
news, as it were. The bad news is, there's a shit lot 
of poetry around at the moment. A glut, really. The 
market is saturated. You see what I mean?"

Alison nodded, looking almost comically serious. She 
was waiting for the good news.

"But I do have an opening," Steve said, "and I think 
you'd be perfect for it. But you'd have to prove to me 
that you're flexible and open."

"I am," said Alison. "I really am, very."

"And that you can take on big things when they're put 
in front of you."

"Oh yes. I'm happy to do that."

"Okay, here's the thing, then. I've got a mate who's 
producing a film, and they need a leading lady for it. 
Would you be interested?"

Alison was floored for a moment, but she bounced back. 
"Well, yes," she said, "I would. I suppose you've got 
to do whatever offers, at first, haven't you? To get 
yourself better known."

"Exactly," said Steve. "Now this film is a sequel to 
one that's already on release, so I thought I'd show 
you that first. Okay?"

Alison nodded earnestly, and Steve picked up the remote 
which was on the table. He pressed PLAY, because we'd 
already set this up and the DVD was in the machine, 
cued up to the scene that he wanted.

The TV screen jumped into life with a shot of a 
schoolgirl in uniform - a pretty little thing of about 
fourteen, blonde like Alison - walking down a city 
street. She walked past a van that was parked at the 
kerb, and three men jumped out of it. In spite of her 
struggles they dragged her inside.

"You'll need to emote a lot," Steve said, deadpan. 
"It's a very demanding role."
I stole a glance at Alison's face. The penny was 
dropping, and the expression on her face was worth a 
tenner.

On the screen, the girl was now kneeling on the floor 
of the van as the three men got their dicks out. Her 
face was shoved down into the crotch of the first guy 
and he forced his hard-on into her mouth.

Alison tried to get up at this point, but Steve and I 
held her down.

"I'm not interested," she said, her voice tight and 
tense.

"Still," said Steve, "I'd like you to watch before you 
make up your mind."

"No thank you," Alison said, and she made a second 
attempt to stand. Steve got a good handful of her hair 
and pulled her down again, then gripped her shoulder 
and shoved her hard against the back of the couch.

"Fucking stay where you're put," he said sternly, "or 
I'll smack you one."

Alison looked at me, for a moment expecting me to jump 
to her defence. But one glance at my amused expression 
must have been enough to make her realise that I was in 
on the joke.

By now the little schoolgirl on the screen was getting 
her mouth used by all three of the guys, pretty 
roughly. And there was a lot of accompanying dialogue 
to bring the point home, like "take it in the throat, 
you bitch" and "eat my cock, whore". Alison stared at 
the scene, her face pale. She was beginning to guess 
where the evening was going.

We watched the scene out. It was one of Steve's DVDs, 
and it was new to me. It was pretty bloody arousing 
stuff - the kind of rape film that they don't sell in 
shops because at least some of the stuff is obviously 
real. There was a mattress in the van, and the three 
guys proceeded to use it to give this little kid a very 
comprehensive sex education. Alison watched with a tear 
trickling down her cheek.

At one point the kid was lying on her back on the 
mattress: there's one guy kneeling on her chest, 
humping away at her face, and a second guy buggering 
her with a cock the size of a rolling pin. The third 
guy is squeezing and mauling her little tits. That was 
when Steve paused the film and turned to Alison.

"Okay," he said, "now you know how it is, Alison. The 
sequel's always got to be better than the original. So 
you can see what we've got to beat..."

Alison looked at me, her tear-stained eyes pleading.

"Please don't do this, Joe," she said in a tiny voice. 

"Please don't do this to me."

"Alison," I told her gently. "We're about to rape the 
shit out of you. You'll be lucky if you can walk out of 
here tonight. But I'd hate to think that what we're 
doing wasn't okay with you. So tell me you want to be 
raped."

"Please..." she tried again, and I reached out and 
grabbed her by the throat, squeezing hard. She tried to 
draw a breath and failed.

"Tell me," I repeated, only loosening my grip a 
fraction.

"I-I want..." she choked, her voice barely audible.

"Yes...?"

"T-to be raped!"

"By both of us?"

"B-by both of you!"

"That's great." I let go of her and unzipped my flies, 
pulling out my painfully stiff cock. "But before we 
start, you can give me a bit of a blow job." Alison 
stared at my hard-on like a lost soul staring at 
Satan's pitchfork.

"Suck it, you little whore" I said, giving her a light 
smack in the face to emphasise that I wasn't kidding. 
She flinched and yelped, but she still didn't move. She 
just couldn't make herself do it: she was still 
paralysed with shock.
"Use your mouth, you stupid slut," Steve growled. 

He pushed her head down into my crotch and she opened 
her mouth, trembling. She was breathing hard. Her 
tongue touched my swollen glans, just for a second, 
then again - terrified, gingerly flicks, involving the 
smallest amount of contact she could manage.

"Alison," I said, "suck me like you mean it, or you'll 
have to do it with Steve's fist up your cunt."

That inspired her to more sincere efforts. It probably 
wasn't the first cock she'd sucked - I imagined she'd 
had a few boyfriends at college, and whether or not she 
was a virgin she'd have to have gotten involved in some 
sex play at some point - and although she was very 
reluctant she knew what it was she was meant to do. She 
sucked on my shaft, her tongue rasping very pleasantly 
over my knob.

By this time Steve had got his own cock out and was 
wanking it slowly as he watched.

"You're ignoring my friend," I told Alison, after a 
minute or so of her head bobbing on my knob. "What kind 
of selfish bitch are you? Give him some plate before I 
lose my temper with you."

Blinking away more tears, Alison straightened up and 
then went down on Steve. "Oh fuck, yeah!" he groaned as 
her lips went around his glans. "That's great!" Alison 
sucked and slurped on him, wretchedly unhappy but 
diligent, and a broad grin spread across his face.

"Hey," he said after a minute or so of this. "You're 
leaving Joe out, you self-centred little cunt. What are 
you like?"

With an involuntary moan of dismay, Alison once more 
turned her attention to me and started sucking my cock 
again. I grunted in pleasure. I felt a little sad that 
I'd be losing Alison's friendship tonight, but at that 
moment, with her lips wrapped around my prong and her 
tongue lashing my helmet, it seemed like a very fair 
exchange.

But it was still early in the evening, and we had a lot 
to get through.

"What the fuck?" I said sternly. "Steve, is this little 
slut blanking you?"

"It's like I'm not even here," said Steve mournfully.

"Well that's unacceptable," I said, shaking my head. 
Alison raised her head and looked at us, terrified and 
at a loss. 

"I'm sorry," she faltered, genuinely scared. "I-
I'll..." 

That was all she had time for before we grabbed her. We 
didn't hit her hard, but we roughed her up quite 
enjoyably. I grabbed her by the hair and shook her head 
around, and Steve punched her in the stomach twice. 
Then I ripped her blouse open and tore it off her while 
he held her by the throat. 

She was crying hysterically now, too scared even to 
defend herself, staggering and almost tripping as we 
hauled her skirt down and off. This left her just in 
her underwear, stockings and shoes.

"Get the shoes off!" Steve yelled at her, giving her a 
mighty slap across the face. Sobbing and flinching, she 
stepped out of her shoes. "Bitch!" Steve growled, and 
punched her a lot harder in the stomach, making her 
double up and collapse moaning at our feet.

"Now the bra and pants," I said, more gently, and 
winded as she was Alison hastily struggled out of her 
underwear.

She was now naked, more or less, and we feasted our 
eyes on her very lovely body. Obviously we were going 
to feast our cocks, too - but we're men of strong 
aesthetic leanings.

"Get up the fucking stairs," Steve said. "We're gonna 
fuck you on the bed."

Trembling and sobbing, Alison walked in front of us to 
the stairs, Steve occasionally shoving and pushing her 
to make her move faster. We enjoyed the view of her 
shapely arse as she walked up the stairs ahead of us. 
At the top we took over again, manhandling her into the 
bedroom and throwing her roughly down on the big double 
bed.

We shrugged off our own clothes under her terrified 
eyes.

For whatever reason, she decided to try one more appeal 
to me.

"I - - I thought we were friends, Joe," she half-
whispered. 

"We are friends," I agreed. "I don't do this sort of 
thing with just anybody, Alison. I think after tonight 
we'll know each other a lot better."

We climbed onto the bed with her and started to enjoy 
ourselves. Pete is a tit man, so he began by sucking 
and licking on Alison's big breasts. I shoved a finger 
up her cunt and started to frig her roughly, enjoying 
the gasps and moans this elicited from her.

A beautiful woman is the best toy in the world, as I'm 
sure all you guys will agree. Before long Pete was 
making Alison cry and squeal as he gave up sucking on 
her nipples and started chewing and biting on them 
instead. 

By that time I'd gone from having one finger inside her 
gash to two and then three, and I was using them to 
give the inside of her cunt a fairly rough mauling. She 
was lying between us on the bed with her eyes tight 
shut as if she couldn't bear to look, breathing in 
shallow gasps as we got our jollies on her beautiful 
body.

Soon we were good and ready to fuck her. Stone paper 
scissors gave Pete the first go up her cunt, so I 
shinnied up the bed and shoved my dick at Alison's 
lovely, tear-stained face.

"Suck my cock," I ordered her. Shooting me a glance 
full of misery and reproach, Alison opened her mouth 
and I shoved my swollen knob between her lips. It felt 
great. She made a muffled sound of protest as I forced 
several inches of shaft into her mouth, but I ignored 
it. This was about my pleasure, not her comfort.

Pete was spreading her legs and getting into position 
between them. Looking down, I saw his massive cock 
nudging against the entrance to her cunt. "This might 
hurt a little," he said, with a grin - and he shoved 
hard, getting half his huge organ up her gash in one 
thrust. 

Alison stiffened with a strangled grunt, and her back 
arched slightly from the shock and the pain. Then she 
had a lot more to contend with as Pete started to rape 
her snatch with deep, hard thrusts, groaning in 
pleasure.

"Tight?" I asked.

"Very tight," gasped Pete, appreciatively. "She hasn't 
done much of this!"

"Well tonight's the night," I said. I started to thrust 
in and out of her mouth. The pain from Pete screwing 
her dry vagina had made her forget to suck on me, but 
in any case I wasn't interested in a straight blow job 
- I could get that anywhere. I fully intended to rape 
Alison's face.

At first what was going on between her legs distracted 
her from my increasingly passionate shafting of her 
mouth. But as I started to make my strokes deeper, her 
gag reflex was triggered and her eyes rolled in panic. 
She tried to pull back from me, and I responded by 
gripping her head tightly in my hands, holding her in 
place as I continued to thrust.

"Sorry, Alison," I panted, "it's gonna get worse before 
it gets better."

She gave an urgent but muffled moan around my plunging 
dick, which was cut off as I forced more of my length 
into her face. Then she made a choking, gagging sound, 
her face going red. I fed her another inch or so, my 
knob well into her gullet now, my balls dangling on her 
chin.

I fucked her throat, and Pete fucked her twat-hole. And 
fantastic as it was, it was just the start...

***

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 28