Subject: FANTASIA: All Night Long
From: an117711@anon.penet.fi
Date: Mon, 29 Aug 1994  (a.s.stories)

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                        ALL NIGHT LONG
                        by V.P.Viddler

   All night long they took her. Without pause, without stint,
without mercy. Hour after hour. As she lay spread and stretched and
helpless for them. All night long. Again and again. Ravishing her
young firm luscious nubile body, ripping their pleasure from the
smooth skin and taut springy breasts and straining outstretched
curving legs and soft tight squirming quivering vagina. Raping all
of it for their lustful satisfaction. Again and again and again.
Ceaselessly.

   Fifty, forty, thirty, she didn't know. She didn't know who they
were, what their names might be, how they had got here. Except for
Carl, who was there through it all, who was watching all of it all
night long, who said to her, smiling, smiling, "How do you like it,
Sis? Is it fun? Is it good? How do you like getting fucked, Sis?
You want more of it? There's lots more of it, Sis. Do you like it?
I like it. I love watching you doing this. You're going to do it
for me, aren't you, Sis?"

   And she could say nothing because she was crying, sobbing,
moaning, whimpering, gagging, screaming or babbling futile pleas,
prayers, but thinking no, no, god no, but knowing she would, he
would, if ever they finished with her, with that battered agonized
spreadeagled straining tautly bound body, Carl would take his turn.
Raping joyously his sister, raping slowly and deliberately and
viciously his own nubile helpless sister, while telling her of what
his plans held for her future, soon and late.

   Smiling now so she could see him as they still on and on taking
her, hard, laughing, panting, thrusting, slapping at thighs and
clamping of breast and pulling of hair to hold still her head so to
kiss her twisting sobbing mouth, push tongues into her crying mouth
knowing that if she bit at them they could hurt her to make her
scream.

   Carl would make her scream. Carl told her that. Told her how,
what he would do to her as they took her and took her and took her.
Raping, ravishing that tight writhing body, that almost virgin
spasmodically twitching vagina. Not her mouth. Carl was saving her
mouth. Carl was planning to rape that mouth himself. As they still
took her, crushing that soft voluptuous jerking body, pounding at
that painfully contracting vagina, kissing that gasping moaning
mouth, mauling breasts and nipples and quivering vainly pulling
thighs. Carl told her what that sweet soft round sensual mouth
would do for him.

   No, she thought, wild, despairing, no god please no god please.

   In detail he told her, slowly, smiling, speaking softly of lips
and tongue and throat, of licking and nibbling and sucking and
swallowing, and he said, "Isn't that right, Sis?" And she said no
no and Carl spoke further, softly, smiling, talking of bound wrists
and straining thighs and whipping, whipping of soft smooth
straining flesh, and of cigars and fire and burning of nipples and
of thighs, and of things to bring pain and agony and horror, all
said as they raped her body continually and he watching, and he
said again, "Isn't that right, Sis?"

   And she said, cried, choking, "Yes, yes Carl, yes. Yes.
Anything."

   "Yes," Carl said. "Anything. From now on. Anything at all. Any
time. Any place. Any way. Anybody. Anything. Isn't that right,
Sis?"

   And "Yes," she said, choked, gagged, "yes Carl yes Carl yes."

   "And if not," Carl said, "if not I will bring you back here. And
I will let them use your mouth. And I will let them use your ass.
And I will let them whip you. As much, as long, as hard, as they
wish. Whipping. Burning. Raping. As long as it is. Not just all
night. Days. Weeks. Months."

   "No stop. I will, Carl," she said, sobbing as still they
continued to pound her taut pain-filled body. Twisting, squirming,
writhing, bucking. "I will, please, I'll crawl for you."

   "Say it, Sis," Carl said, smiling. "Say it again. Say it loud."

   "I'll crawl for you," she said. "I will crawl for you, Carl."

   "Yes," Carl said. "And now you will scream for me. For all of
us."

   Which she did. As Carl watched, listening to that music,
smiling. Music of screams, shrieks, shouts, squalls, cries, pleas,
howls. That young nubile voluptuous curving body arching against
tight pulling bonds as it was carved into stripes, etched into red
hot burns, distorted into elongated agonizing shapes, and finally
the ravishing again, the continuous taking of the thrashing
spread-out screaming tossing begging lovely girl. And Carl saying,
"How is it, Sis? How do you like it, Sis..."