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Archive name: poetry2.txt
Authors name: Goldrush (goldrush@aussiemail.com.au)
Story title : Poetry Recital - 2

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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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Poetry Recital - 2
by Goldrush (goldrush@aussiemail.com.au)

***

The rape of Alison continues with a poetry recital. 
(MMF, rp, v, tor, was, oral)

***

I can fuck for a long time without coming, even when 
I'm enjoying myself as much as I was then - so five 
minutes later I was still violating Alison's pretty 
face just as energetically, panting hard as I drove my 
massive, engorged cock deep into the velvet warmth of 
her throat. The desperate gagging noises she was making 
were turning me on even more, so that the more she 
fought for air, the harder I humped her face and the 
less air she got - a little awkward for her, but hugely 
erotic for me.

Pete seemed to be having an equally good time between 
her legs. His cock is about nine inches long when it's 
fully erect, and he had every last inch buried in 
Alison's pretty little snatch as he deflowered her with 
groans of delight.

But it's not a picnic if all you eat is cake. We were 
soon ready to swap ends, which was accomplished with 
the minimum of fuss as Alison was half-unconscious from 
the throat-fucking and in no position to object.

I think Pete shoved his massive phallus into her mouth 
just as she was starting to recover her senses. 
Certainly her eyes went wide and she gave an urgent 
"Mmmph!" around his shaft.

"Ding dong!" said Pete. "Rapist calling!"

Then he started to make energetic love to Alison's 
lovely face, at exactly the same time that I shoved my 
blood-heavy prong up her twatgash.

Once again we raped our beautiful girlfriend at both 
ends, ignoring her discomfort as we thoroughly enjoyed 
ourselves with her irresistible orifices. 

If anything, Pete was being more brutal with her mouth 
than I'd been: he kept most of his dick in her mouth 
the whole time, thrusting into her face with short but 
forceful strokes, the sound of her muffled gagging 
music to his lustful ears.

Her cunt was fantastic - every bit as tight as Pete had 
said it was, but somewhat lubed up now by her body's 
natural response to the vigorous fucking she'd already 
received. It was a tunnel of velvet, and I raped it 
with great delight.

Then suddenly Pete pulled out of her mouth and gave me 
a look - an excited, eager look.

"Pull her round," he said.

I didn't get what he meant at first, but he started to 
haul our limp, dazed fuck-toy around so that she was 
laying cross-ways on the bed, her head dangling over 
the edge.

"As you were," Pete said with a grin, climbing off the 
bed and straddling Alison's head.

I shoved my cock back into her twatgash with a grunt of 
delight - but I didn't thrust for a moment, wanting to 
see what Pete had on his mind.

He was thinking about ease of access. With Alison's 
head now lolling off the edge of the bed, her throat 
was one straight line leading from her mouth to her 
stomach. Pete shoved his cock into her face again, but 
this time he didn't stop - he just kept feeding it in.

Thoroughly galvanised by panic, Alison struggled 
wildly. I dropped my weight down onto her and pinned 
her hands by her sides. Without breaking rhythm, Pete 
continued to shove his immense, fat cock inch by inch 
down her gullet. I could actually see the thickness of 
his shaft bulging out her throat. He didn't stop until 
his balls were lying on the bridge of her nose, and his 
cock was root-deep in her face. Alison's hands were 
trembling at her sides, fighting against me, but I was 
a lot stronger than her especially as the oxygen 
starvation kicked in.
"How does it feel?" I asked Pete.

"Fucking lovely," he groaned.

"She's going to die, though," I pointed out tactfully.

"I know, I know," he grunted, and pulled part-way out 
again. Alison inhaled noisily around the great shaft 
that was still embedded in her face. Then with one 
accord we both started humping her again.

I couldn't hold back any more. With a yell of delight, 
I blasted Alison's womb with my pent-up seed - and a 
moment later, Pete gave an almost agonised groan as he 
abruptly froze with his cock deep in Alison's face. I 
saw her throat work desperately as she struggled to 
cope with the generous flood of semen he was pumping 
down her gullet. She must have felt like she was 
drowning in it, and Pete's huge, thick organ filled her 
mouth too completely for any of the stuff to escape, so 
there was only one place for it to go.

Thoroughly satisfied, at least for the moment, we 
climbed off Alison and let her get her breath back. She 
was moaning and whimpering, curled up into a foetal 
ball on the bed, so we ignored her for a few minutes 
and shared a can of lager.

"What's the most times you've done it in a night?" Pete 
asked me conversationally.

"Four," I said. "That was a rape, too, funnily enough. 
Down in Cheshunt."

"Was I there for that?" he asked.

"Don't think so. Swedish au pair from the estate where 
Mick was living. Silver blonde. Tasty number she was."

"Petra?"

"Yeah, that was her name. How'd you know?"

"Mick told me about that one. He made her suck off his 
dog."

"Yeah." I grinned, remembering. "Fucking amazing. Mind 
you, no-one wanted to use her mouth again afterwards."

"When are the other guys getting here?" I asked Pete, 
and there was a wail of despair from Alison. Weak as 
she was, she tumbled off the bed and made a limping run 
for the door. Pete tripped her up and she went down 
heavily. We carried her back to the bed and dumped her 
unceremoniously down on it.

"I said it was going to be a big party, Alison," I 
reminded her. "And I told all the blokes what I told 
you - no partners. So I hope you don't mind if they all 
have a go on you."

Talking about past rapes had got us good and horny, so 
we made her go down on us again. In no time we were as 
strainingly erect as we'd been the first time around. A 
rape will do that for you - it inspires you to efforts 
you didn't know you could make.

This time we decided to sample the delights of Alison's 
arsehole. So I anointed her bum with KY jelly as Pete 
vigorously raped her face. Then I held her down on the 
bed while he shoved his prong up her arse.

Alison's face was a picture. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she gasped. 
"Oh god!" Then she became inaudible and incoherent, 
just babbling whispered half-words as Pete's monstrous 
dick pounded away at her guts.

Then I got my turn. She was insanely tight down there, 
and I almost came again after only a few minutes of 
rampageously buggering her. I had to pull out and take 
a breather.

It was at this point that the doorbell rang. It was 
Mick and John, and they were well impressed when they 
saw Alison.

"Nice tits!" said John approvingly.

"Whoa! Me next up her arse!" said Mick.

Pete was buggering her again, but her mouth was free so 
John got his cock out and shoved it into her face. "Oh 
yeaaaah!" he groaned. "That's fucking lovely!" Soon he 
was crudely humping Alison's flushed, dazed face as 
Pete mercilessly reamed out her bum.

They both came at the same time, John hosing her 
tonsils with his first load of the evening while Pete 
planted a packet deep up in her back passage.

By this time me and Mick were extremely aroused from 
watching them, and we fell on Alison like a pair of 
wild animals. Mick ferociously screwed her face while I 
fucked her cunt and her arse alternately, finally 
spending my load in her bumhole. John held out a few 
minutes longer, but soon enough he was pressing 
Alison's face tightly to his crotch as he orgasmed 
explosively right down her throat.

Then it was another round of Alison licking and sucking 
us hard while we played with her tits and her cunt. She 
was looking a bit the worse for wear by this time - her 
face bruised both from the slaps she'd got and from 
hard sexual usage, her tits red and sore where we'd 
chewed on them, her hair plastered to her face with 
drying cum. She looked like a well-used whore, and we 
all felt a surge of pride and arousal just looking at 
her. The way she looked was the result of all our 
efforts.

An hour or so later we'd all fucked Alison and come in 
her at least three times each. It was time for some 
games to spice up the sex and get us turned on again. 
We started off with the objects game. We made Alison 
lie down on the bed with her legs spread wide apart. 
She had to hook her hands behind her knees and keep her 
legs spread; otherwise she got a slap or a nipple twist 
from the guy who was nearest.

Then we each got out the objects we'd brought. The aim 
was to come up with something vaguely phallic, but 
outrageously long and thick. The objects would be lined 
up according to majority vote, and the biggest one that 
we could actually shove up Alison's cunt would win the 
guy who'd brought it a prize.

John had brought one of those fake Oscars that say 
WORLD'S GREATEST LOVER. He forced it up Alison's snatch 
without preamble, and though it made her moan and sob, 
she took it without too much trouble. Pete tried to 
argue that it didn't count unless John got the base 
inside her cunt too, but John appealed the decision and 
the vote went his way.

Mick produced - with a flourish - a huge cucumber (a 
perennial favourite) and artificially raped Alison with 
it to cheers and ribald comments about five helpings of 
vegetables. She was moaning "oh god! Oh god!" in a weak 
voice, over and over again, but she was too afraid of 
the consequences to try to close her legs, and 
ultimately Mick was able to cram the whole ridiculous 
length of the cucumber up her snatch.

Pete's offering was just a dildo - but it was a dildo 
about a foot long and proportionately thick. It took 
all his strength to get it rammed up her, and Alison 
actually fainted before he'd finished, but eventually 
the base of the massive thing was protruding only half 
an inch or so from her cunt lips.

That left me, but I wasn't quite ready yet. "I'll be 
showing you my object shortly," I assured them. "For 
now, we'll postpone the vote and go on to game two." 
There were protests, but they were good-natured. 
Everyone was enjoying themselves. Well, everyone except 
Alison, of course.

The second game was something I'd laid on specially for 
her.

"Now you may not know it," I said to the guys, "but our 
hostess tonight is a bit of a poet on the quiet, and 
she's brought some of her work along to read to us."

There were jeers and catcalls, and Alison turned a 
stricken face towards me. This was a kind of rape she 
hadn't imagined.

Ignoring her pleading eyes, I thrust the IDEAS book 
into her hands. "Read us a poem," I told her. "And make 
it good. I want lots of feeling and expression. Give it 
to me, or you're going to be really sorry."

The guys looked on, puzzled but interested. With 
trembling hands, Alison leafed through the book, and 
finally found a poem she felt she could deal with.

"In nature's touch," she recited, quavering but 
audible, "there is a script that in full darkness must 
be read. And if we run our fingers down the lines..."

She didn't get any further, because I jumped onto the 
bed, crammed my hard-on into her mouth and began to 
violently fuck her face. She choked and gurgled, taken 
completely by surprise by the crude and brutal oral 
assault. I kept it up for about twenty seconds, really 
driving my dick into her throat, banging my balls on 
her chin at each thrust.

Then I pulled out again, and ignoring her coughing and 
her watering eyes I gave her an impatient wave.

"Keep going," I said - and when she didn't start 
reading again, I grabbed her bruised nipple and twisted 
it hard, eliciting a wail of anguish from her. "Keep 
going," I repeated, sternly. "We don't want any 
breaks."

"I-if we run," Alison babbled, "our fingers down the 
lines, we see the gaps where reason's blind. We see..."

Pete had got the point of the game by this time. He 
jumped onto the bed, force-fed Alison his massive 
prong, and started to hump her mouth with furious 
energy. Holding a double handful of her hair, he drove 
her face into his crotch, brutally slam-fucking her 
throat, then he stopped as abruptly as I had, and 
backed off.

Alison was crying freely now, but she knew what was 
expected of her and she carried on. "We see the silent 
spaces fill with arguments we cannot choose but know. 
And each ellipsis says - - gwmmph ukkkk gwrrr!" This 
time she got a mouthful - and a throatful - of Mick's 
massive erection, and he proceeded to fuck her face so 
forcefully that I was sure she was going to choke to 
death on his cock.

By the time she got to the end of the poem, we'd all 
raped her mouth four or five times, and her face was 
flushed, her eyes glazed, her voice unsteady.

"B... by this world's bounty gent... gently kissed," 
she whispered, and floundered into silence.

"That was lovely, Alison," I said, solemnly. "Now I'm 
going to critique it first." I gripped her head in my 
hands and drove her face down onto my cock, spearing 
her lips and driving my blood-gorged shaft deep into 
her throat. I fucked her gullet with no holds barred, 
groaning in delight, as she gagged and moaned around my 
invading member. I let my climax overtake me, felt my 
cock explode deep in her throat, and held her impaled 
on it as I hosed her tonsils with jet after jet of 
thick spunk. When I let go of her she slid limply down 
onto the bed, drooling cum from the corners of her 
mouth.

"Does anyone else have an opinion on Alison's poem?" I 
asked.

"Oh yeah," said Pete, with a wicked grin. He didn't 
bother to haul her upright - he just climbed on top of 
her and shoved his gigantic organ directly into her 
face as though her mouth was her cunt. He fucked her 
face so forcefully that her head was bouncing off the 
bed, and his swollen glans must have been slamming into 
her tonsils like a boxer's fist into a punchball. Her 
hands fluttered weakly, but there was nowhere to go to 
escape the cruel violation. 

While Pete was enjoying Alison's pretty face, Mick got 
her legs apart and shoved his cock up her already 
violated arse. Soon they were shagging her in unison, 
and most of Alison's lovely body was out of sight under 
their bucking, humping backs. We cheered them on with 
glee.

Finally Pete came with a mighty yell, and Alison's 
throat bobbed as she desperately tried to cope with his 
outpouring seed before it choked her. A few seconds 
later, Mick groaned and filled her arsehole with his 
cum. Then they both reluctantly climbed off her, spent 
for the moment.

Alison was spent too. She just lay there with her eyes 
half-open, moaning in pain, cum oozing from her cunt 
and bumhole to pool on the bed between her legs.

"Now," I said, "I still have to produce my object for 
game one." There was a chorus of agreement, and then an 
expectant silence. Enjoying the anticipation I was 
creating, I picked up Alison's IDEAS notebook from the 
bed, where it had fallen as we took our pleasure on 
her. Slowly, deliberately, I rolled it into a tube.

Abused and broken as she was, Alison tried to sit 
upright when she saw what I was doing. Mick held her 
down, and Pete and John pulled her legs wide apart.

"No!" Alison gurgled, in a choking voice. "Joe, don't! 
Please don't!"

I gripped the rolled-up notebook tightly in my hand and 
positioned it at the fork of her crotch. "It was your 
poetry that first brought us together, Alison," I said. 
"So this feels very right, somehow." It took a lot of 
effort - even rolled up tight, the notebook was thick 
and unwieldy - but I managed to force a couple of 
inches of it up Alison's snatch, and after that it was 
a little easier. She wailed in agony, but that didn't 
stop me - I kept pushing, and when some internal 
barrier blocked my way I slammed the book with the heel 
of my hand, hammering it in.

This made Alison faint again, and since all our cocks 
were raw and tender from too much exercise it seemed a 
good place to bring the evening to a close. As per our 
usual tradition, we put her in the bath first and 
pissed all over her, which woke her up a little bit. 
Pete shoved his dick into her mouth and made her drink 
his piss, which is a bit of a fetish of his. The rest 
of us just hosed her face and tits, or in John's case 
her cunt. The IDEAS book was still sticking out between 
her legs at this point, so it got quite wet - but then 
we'd shot so much spunk into her hole between the four 
of us, the book was probably already pretty much 
ruined. 

Then we carried her down to the car and dumped her in.

Pete drove and I sat in the back with her to make sure 
she didn't do anything crazy like jump out while we 
were moving. She was too weak for that, though: we'd 
fucked her half to death.

At one point she stirred, her eyes focused, and she 
looked up at me.

"Why, Joe?" she whispered, through cracked and swollen 
lips.

I shook my head, giving a half-shrug.

"Alison," I said, smiling fondly down at her, "it was 
your poems or your cunt. I think we made the right 
choice."

We dropped her off close to the campus, and threw her 
clothes out after her. The last I saw of her, she was 
trying to get her poetry book out of her cunthole one-
handed, the other hand covering her breasts in an 
endearing instinct of modesty.

So there you go. The fuck to end all fucks, in many 
respects. And I'm not sorry we gang-raped Alison. But I 
do miss her sometimes, and I wonder what might have 
happened if I'd asked her out on a regular date.

Acting on impulse, you see. It leaves you with a lot of 
might-have-beens to ponder.

Now let me tell you about sweet little Jennifer...

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

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