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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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Ante Up
by Will Not Dance (willnotdance@gmail.com)
***
A young daughter gang-raped at a poker party. (M+/f,
ped, nc, rp, gb)
***
I matured early.
When I was 11, I developed a mild form of macromastia,
a medical condition that enlarges the breasts
abnormally. By the time I was 12, I was only 4’10”,
with a tiny waist and body, but my breasts were 32F. I
looked like a Japanese anime girl. I was humiliated by
my proportions and did everything I could to hide my
figure. But I couldn’t.
There was nothing I could do to keep the world from
seeing how my chest had exploded. Girls avoided me,
boys teased me, and men…well, men stared. They didn’t
think I noticed, but I could always tell when their
eyes lingered on me. I wanted to disappear.
That summer, a few months into my thirteenth year, my
mother went away on vacation with some of her
girlfriends. My father looked after me. Or was
supposed to.
One hot night he had five of his work buddies over to
play poker. I hated when they played poker, because
they got drunk and loud and smoked filthy cigars. It
was particularly bad when my mother wasn’t around.
Profanity flew. I was embarrassed for them.
They took their poker seriously. They played for antes
of $50, and some of the pots could go as high as
$1000. (My father’s gambling is eventually why my
mother left him.) On the night in question, my father
got too drunk and bet too much. He was losing.
Early in the evening, I brought snacks out for
everyone and fetched them drinks. It was so hot out,
but I tried to cover up my body with a sports bra and
two long baggy shirts. But I could feel their eyes
ogling my body. When I brought them drinks, they would
pat me on the butt to thank me. Once one of the men
strategically reached for his drink while I was
delivering one to his neighbor, and his arm brushed
against my breast. I gasped. As the evening wore on,
their gazes became more obvious.
Around midnight, I had fallen asleep on the sofa, and
my father had lost several hands. He owed over $4000,
and we didn’t have that kind of money. By this time of
the night, everyone was flat-out drunk. They were
angry and they demanded payment. I woke up as one of
them was yelling at my father to give him his “fucking
money.”
As I was rising, the man struck my father across the
face and told him he’d have to pay up or, he paused,
find another way to reimburse them. Then the man
looked at me. The others saw what he was thinking, and
the room got quiet. Then my father looked at me too.
I’ll never forget the look in his eye. Desperation
mingled with resignation and regret. He muttered
something. The man who hit him told him to speak up.
My father whispered, as he looked at me, “I can’t
pay.”
The others took that as their sign. They all turned
toward me at once. I suddenly realized what was
happening, and fear welled up in me. “Daddy…?”
Before I knew it, they were on me. I remember a flurry
of arms and hands grabbing at me. I was so tiny. They
lifted me in the air and unraveled my clothing as if
they were opening a bottle of beer. My shirt was in
shreds and my pants ripped off me. I was left in
nothing but little girl undies and a woman’s oversized
sports bra. One finger pulled the underwear off
effortlessly while another hand tore at my bra and
unleashed my full glory.
The put me down momentarily out of surprise. They
hadn’t expected what lie underneath. My breasts at
that time were near-perfect spheres that projected off
my frame like two cantaloupes stuck to a sapling. My
fleshy pink nipples were the diameter of quarters and
protruded at least an inch or more, pointing upward
toward God. At the sight of this, and me desperately
trying to hide my body under my tiny hands, left the
men momentarily stunned. Then I could see the animal
lust gushing up into their faces.
Like pack-wolves they devoured me. Hands and limbs
thrusting around me, grunting and growling, with their
hot beer-stench breath spraying on me. A fist took my
hair and yanked my head toward a crotch, where an
enormous cock sprang toward my face, and it violently
entered my mouth while the man controlled my head like
a puppet.
Other hands pulled my legs apart. I felt clumsy hands
wipe something thick and sticky all over my underside.
It was petroleum jelly, rescued from the bathroom, and
slathered on my rectum and pussy. Then dicks began
stabbing at me like swords. They took turns entering
my tiny mound and ass, and I could swear there were a
few minutes when I had all five dicks in me at once. I
can’t tell you how.
I tried screaming, and they slapped me mercilessly.
Tears of pain streamed down my face while they turned
me into a ragdoll. One man came in my mouth, and
before I could spit it out another man’s dick replaced
it. They bent me every which way, while bruises welled
up all over me. They bent me backward over the back of
the sofa while one man entered my mouth, another
straddled me to snake his cock between my breasts, a
third shoved his cock in my ass, while a fourth
entered my pussy. The fifth man took my hand and used
it to masturbate on my face. The couch bucked like a
bronco as they tore my body apart.
Somehow in the whirlwind I managed to see clearly
across the room to my father, desperately hoping he’d
save me. He was cowering in a dark corner, jerking
himself off.
After hours of this, the men left my shredded body
naked on the floor, drenched in sweat and blood, semen
oozing out of ever orifice. I could not move. I was
senseless, nearly lifeless. I lie there for a long
time, drifting in and out of consciousness. As the
night slid into morning, I felt something strange, a
sensation I didn’t recognize at first. I sifted
through the pain and tried to discern how I felt about
these animals having just violated me.
Just as the dawn arrived, I knew how I felt...
I liked it.
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 77