Message-ID: <33542asstr$1006139402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: StoneGrrrl@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <84.1eac7c85.2929b50f@aol.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-MIME-Autoconverted: from quoted-printable to 8bit by sara.asstr-mirror.org id UAA31102 X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sun, 18 Nov 2001 20:06:23 EST Subject: {ASSM} Ravishing Alice (Part One) (M+/F, nc, rp, fantasies Date: Sun, 18 Nov 2001 22:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, gill-bates Note: this is my first posted story. Possibly the first part of a multiple part piece that explores the idea of female rape fantasies. I mean it to be as entertaining as possible while dealing with something we all think about: would the reality be as erotically exciting as the fantasy? The answer... it could be... in the right circumstances. Please feel free to repost this for free consumption only. Please retain this author's statement with any sharing or reposting. StoneGrrrl Comments or suggestions for future parts are welcome at StoneGrrrl@aol.com Standard Disclaimer - WARNING: This story is an original work of fiction, and should be treated as such. The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, DO NOT read any further. If it is illegal in your geographical location, DO NOT read it. Ravishing Alice (Part One) (M+/F, nc, rp, fantasies By Stonegrrrl Copyright 2000 (C) It started as a conversation. Just a conversation among friends at work. Monica Wells started it by showing Alice, whose cubicle was right next to her's; a copy of a manuscript she had been reading from the slush pile. That was Monica's job at Adams and Raven Publishers; reading the unsolicited manuscripts that came in the mail every morning. Usually a paragraph or two was enough. Dreck. Sample chapters of a little old lady's first novel... right back into manila envelope... This one was different... "Fucking hell!," Alice said as she read a paragraph from the half dozen pages she had been handed. "Rape can be extremely erotic if done properly. It can be the sexual thrill to end all thrills. But it cannot be pretending or role playing. It must be real ,with the fear, the anger, and the utter humiliation. The danger. It must happen spontaneously and when it is least expected. At church . When you stop by the Pastor's office to have a word with him about your daughters christening... When you stop by the video store on your way home. You walk in and there are these boys... Well ,you get the idea. But you can't know it's going to happen. That's where we come in...." " What is this shit?" Alice asked and she skipped through the typed sheets. "A bad novel?" "It's a sexual how-to book," said Monica. "The person who wrote this claims that they run a business setting up recreational rapes." "A business?" Alice stopped reading and squinted through her oversized frame glasses. She was, 42, short and a little heavy with her dark brown hair cut in a short easy to care for shag. "And this guy admits it in a book?" "Yes... and actually the rape business is run by a woman. See?," Monica held up a color photo of an attractive if severe looking woman in her fifties. She was holding a pair of handcuffs. "The way it works is that a woman calls and comes into the office of Ravishing Beauties L.L.C. and talks to a counselor about her particular violent rape fantasy. They take pictures of her and get all of the personal information. Where she works, what bars she goes to, her church, clubs and any information about her family. Everything you would be terrified to hand over to a potential rapist. She pays a non-refundable fee of several thousand dollars and is told she will be raped to her specifications within six months. What she isn't told is when." "There must be some really sick women out there," Alice said and handed the papers back. "You've never had a rape fantasy... a good juicy one?" asked Monica. "No!" "Even when ole' Ralph is pumping away on his Saturday night screw with a lame look on his face? You don't fantasize that Mel Gibson and Harrison Ford are double teaming you... the helpless and beautiful peasant wench? And you can't do a thing about it. Delicious... right?" Alice was married to a computer programmer named Ralph who was more into software than sex. Monica herself, was, 28, single and without a boyfriend of the moment. "Well, " admitted Alice. "Sometimes I might imagine Mel or someone else is making love to me, but I certainly would never think of a rape. That's horrible!" "Yeah right," Monica said and licked her lips salaciously. Alice thought about it off and on all day. Something in a tiny locked back room of her consciousness stirred and sent flashes of partially seen images as she proofed the text of a romance novel that had to go the printers by the end of the month. She thought about how such books nearly always contained an attempted rape scene. A rape that was never completed but usually involved some humiliation of the beautiful heroine.... stripped naked in front of the whole crew of the pirate ship... before the hero comes to rescue. What if the hero was late? What if the ravishing heroine was forced to... with twenty filthy pirates.. one after another? Her lips forced apart by their unwashed "throbbing members." She smiled at the reference. Their "manhoods?" With no real reason or plan she copied down the address and website URL for Ravishing Services while Monica was away from her desk for a few minutes. Monica thought a lot about the "recreational rape" service too. But she had no secret back rooms to open. Her rape fantasies had always been up front and open in her sex life. Several lovers had tried to fulfill he desires when she had even gone so far as to write them out in detail and e-mail them to her would be ravishers. They had tried but they had failed. Their acting abilities hadn't been up to the task. "Take those panties off or I'll cut `em off! And I might just cut you too!" was snarled ineffectually by a 165 pound literary critic who worked for a Denver alternative arts weekly... Right. And having only one "rapist" reached only a part of her fantasy, which usually involved a gang of men. Tall dark and very dangerous. Bikers maybe. Nazis? Like in a movie. The men she seemed to attract were literary types, imaginative, but quiet and studious. Monica had a extremely vivid dream that night: She was at a garage to have her aging Volvo worked on. It was a large dirty and hugely barnlike place with a half dozen coveralled mechanics working on cars. It was very dimly lit by a few fluorescent fixtures far overhead many of which were missing bulbs or flashing oddly. The mechanics worked by the illumination of single incandescent bulbs mounted on small reflectors at the ends of extension cords which covered the concrete floor like blood veins which had risen to the surface. Monica was on her way home from work and still wore her business suit; long corduroy skirt and white ruffled blouse with the brown loose bow tie and a jacket that matched the skirt. Black over the calf zip up boots ... Her hair was pinned up in a tight bun. She was leaning over the open hood of her car while the mechanic peered down into the engine compartment . "The noise you hear is a valve going bad," said the mechanic. "Is that going to be expensive?" Monica asks. "Yes," the large man with a black full beard says and looks at her. He raised the trouble light and played it across her face... her breasts swelling beneath her severe blouse. Monica open her mouth to say something but just stared into the bright light. "About $700 probably," said the the mechanic. It said EARL on a breast pocket patch. "But maybe we could work something out..." "What sort of ... something?" she managed to ask. "I'd be willing to take fifty bucks off if you were to blow me," Earl said, moving the light closer. "Seventy five if you swallow it. I really hate it when women spit my come out. It makes me feel... rejected." He smiled through tobacco stained teeth. Monica was speechless. The man was holding the hot bulbed light right in her face now. "Your lips would look wonderful wrapped around my cock," he said looking forcefully into her large made up eyes with their neatly done lashes . She is frozen in place as he puts one massive greasy hand on the shoulder of her tailored jacket. He presses hard on the top. "Down," he said. "No..." she said hesitantly. Her stomach was tight and she was beginning to tremble. "No? NO?," he nearly shouted into her face while holding the trouble light up to her widening eyes. "Don't you tell me you don't want the discount." His fingers are digging into her shoulder now, hard, hard enough to break bone if ...just... a little...more .. pressure ... Monica sank to her knees with a whimper. Then she heard a noise. It was the other mechanics. Four of them. All big and burly. All dressed in the same identical coveralls as Earl. They had moved in a semi-circle around the two of them. Grinning. "Discount job?" one asks. Monica's pupils are dilated in the bright light and she can't make out many details of the other men. The sound of zippers being opened reaches her ears. One of the men moves in quickly and is pulling her arms behind her back. Hard. Painfully. He wraps her wrists with a roll of narrow black electrical tape, crossing them one on top of the other rather than side by side. This forces her elbows out uncomfortably. "No..." she said again although she knew it was well past the time of saying no. Earl unzipped his coveralls and revealed he was wearing only a grimy white tee shirt underneath. No underwear. His circumcised hard cock is as large as a banana with a sideways bend. Its head is shiny and dark red. He wiped it across Monica's perfectly made up face. She tried desperately to turn her head but Earl grasped her hair with one hand and twisted. The man who had just taped her arms jerked them upward them painfully as she squirms. When she stopped, he stopped... "Open wide," said Earl. "Fifty bucks off the bill. C'mon." He tucked the trouble light into the front grill on the Volvo, positioning it so it illuminates Monica's face as his cock rubbed across her lips. Her lipstick smeared across one cheek. He twisted his hand in her bun of hair... yanking it hard. "Open!" he demands again and ....she.... does.... Knowing she has no choice. She felt the other men watching as Earl stuck his huge cock roughly into her mouth. Suddenly, withdrawing his dick, he slapped the side of her head with one huge head and rocks her hard sideways. She would have fallen to the grease covered cement floor if the man holding her arms had let her. "No teeth or no fucking discount," hissed Earl. "What?" she is dizzy from the blow. "Pull your lips over your teeth.... just let it slide in and out," Earl said, breathing hard. "I'm going to fuck your beautiful mouth. Now spit on my dick. Get it slippery." Monica's mouth felt like a desert and the unpleasant taste of him lingered on her tongue. She managed a tiny amount of saliva and tried to smear it with her tongue on the head of his penis as it bumped it into her lips. "Oh hell... guess I'll have to help," said Lyle. He spat a wad of yellowish phlegm into the palm of one hand and rubbed on his throbbing cock. He slid into Monica's mouth and began to move. She covered her teeth by pulling her full lips back over them and let Lyle rape her mouth. She shuddered. Then, she felt cold metal at the nape of her neck. One of the other men had stepped over with a pair of large sharp scissors and was cutting her jacket down the center of the back. When it was open top to bottom, he then started at the cuff of each sleeve. Soon the jacket lay in pieces on the floor and he began on her white blouse and repeated the process. Monica resisted the urge to scream as Lyle grunted and slammed his dick between her lips and the silent cutter destroyed her best outfit. Why were they cutting her clothing? They could have just as easily forced her to undress. The skirt was disposed of rapidly as well and she was left in just her bra, panties and boots kneeling on the hard concrete. Gooseflesh covered her arms. She shivered uncontrollably. Earl made a choking noise and sped up his pace while gripping both sides of her head. "Feeding time!" he hissed and filled her mouth with his ropy cum. She tried to pull away. "Swallow it! Seventy five bucks if you swallow." It wasn't a choice and she knew it. She swallowed the warm vile liquid. She suppressed the urge to vomit with pure force of will. "Clean me up for ... twenty more. Six hundred more and we'll be all paid up." She licked weakly at his rapidly dwindling cock. It softened but didn't deflate entirely. She felt the scissors cut each side of her panties which were then yanked from between her legs. Fingers with rough edge nails groped at her anus and vagina. A digit slid into her damp pussy which was lubricating despite her fear and despair. It was all a tiny bit deliciously evil somehow. Something a little like a small electrical shock ran down her body to meld with the feeling of the finger probing her sex. "A hundred to fuck me," she suddenly said. "Seventy-five," said the man, Frank, who had removed her panties. "Ninety." She finished with Lyle's cock which was now showing new signs of life. "Deal." His spit moistened dick slid easily into her pussy from the rear. One hundred added to seventy five. Another man, Tom, took Earl's place at her mouth. She opened her lips, more hopeful now that she could see an end in sight. Two hundred and thirty five... if she swallowed again. Once again her mouth was filled with cum which this time did not taste as bad as the first and a third man, Albert, slid into her cum coated mouth. Frank filled her vagina with his load which was so large some of it dripped out and down her bare thighs. The fourth man, Em, slid in easily and began to move. Three hundred and twenty five... Another load deposited inside her. "A hundred and twenty five for your ass," said Lyle moving behind her with his fully revived member. He held a long barreled grease gun in one hand. "A hundred and fifty," Monica screamed as the cold tip of the grease gun touched the bud of her asshole. The tip slid inside by half an inch and Lyle squeezed the lever. Thick clear lubricant slid out and inside her anus. He shoved it another inch or two and did it a again. Finally at six inches of cold steel penetration, he emptied half a tube of ropy slick lube into her bowels so that her involuntary contraction sent a ribbon of the stuff oozing o ut. She whimpered. Lyle inserted a single finger easily and worked it slowly... then two... then three... while she struggled with the natural reaction to squeeze down hard... Even with all of the grease, the insertion of his full huge cock into her ass hurt badly. Albert pulled out of her mouth and shot all over her face and then rubbed in in with his fingers. The men continued with raping her mouth, pussy and ass, covering her with their emissions until, incredibly at a silent and arbitrarily calculated $700, they stopped, and helped her to her feet. Someone brought her a pair of coveralls. "We'll have the car ready by morning, mam" Lyle told her as he helped her into the clothing. "We'll all work on it all night if we have to." "We could let you have a set of tires at a good price," the mechanic named Tom said. "Winter is coming on and you'll probably need them." "I'll drive you home and pick you up in the morning,"Frank said. The dream ended there with her soaked head to toe in strange cum with a painfully stretched anus and them all talking politely. Would she fuck them all again for a set of tires. A new sound system.. She said she would think about it. Monica replayed the dream in her mind while using her largest vibrator; the one an ex-boyfriend had given her for Thanksgiving one year. "And now we'll stuff you," he had said. She decided that the scenario was heart thumpingly exciting to think about but would not be something she would want to do in real life. A grease gun up her butt! No way! Which parts would be erotic for real, and which merely painful? She thrust the dildo deep as she stroked her engorged clit with a moistened thumb. She tentativly poked her little finger slightly into her rear passage. A wave of orgasmic joy rolled through her body and she whimpered softly. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+