Message-ID: <35765asstr$1016345406@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: spoonbender@hotmail.com (Theodore Spoonbender) Reply-To: spoonbender@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <3c93dbe7.43951009@news.earthlink.net> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 16 Mar 2002 16:00:12 PST X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2002 00:00:12 GMT Subject: {ASSM} ** New Spoonbender Rape Story - Sons of Beaches (M+/f, nc, i/r) Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2002 01:10:06 -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 Sons of Beaches (M+/f, nc, i/r) ******************************************************************** (c)2002 Spoonbender. A short story of an adult nature. Not to be read by minors. If you don't like stories where young ladies are taken advantage of or you are underage then don't read it. Contains descriptions of non consensual sex. Can be freely distributed as long as it is not changed, including this heading, and you tell me the URL if it is put on a website. If it is to be archived on a fee paying archive then please email me first for permission. Please email me with comments, constructive criticism, fantasies you want put into words etc. Don't flame me if you don't like the content or you don't like my style. Spoonbender@hotmail.com if you wanna correspond. Ladies especially welcome. This story is fantasy. In other words it ain't true. None of it. Ok. This story is dedicated to my old mate Stroker Ace and to that beautiful young blond girl who I saw shopping in Central Pattaya on the 7th of Match 2002. She was wearing a tight camouflage colored miniskirt and a light top and had the most delightful butt and pair of legs I've ever seen. Thanks. ********************************************************************* It was the biggest event in the free wheeling Farang calendar. A beach party of gargantuan proportions with all the attributes that only Thailand could offer swirled into the mix; Ice Cold Singha beer, spicy food, heat, sand, swaying palms and, for those adventurous souls who relished a flirt with 5 years in a Thai jail, a particularly prized batch of pure Thai grass - which was much sought after amongst the cognoscenti as being among the best in the world, if not THE best. Patty, 19 years old and on her gap year out from University, had been persuaded to attend by her Bondi beach bum boyfriend Greg. "It'll be fun," was all the persuading he needed to apply because she'd come here to have fun and this promised to be fun writ large. The party had started, as all good beach parties do, with a huge driftwood fire and soon deteriorated into a frenzy of dancing, toking, chuffing and for those with hot blood and hotter temperaments, frantic coupling. Patty was feeling nicely mellow and was writhing sinuously, and bare breasted, to the pulsing beat of the Loation rock music. Subtle eastern rhythms overlaid with raw, pulsing rock blasting from huge amplifiers whose petrol generators beat monotonously away in the trees. And deep in amongst those same swaying coconut trees, eyes were watching. Suthee had been a tuk-tuk driver in Bangkok and he knew a thing or two about Farang women. He'd seen them in the back of his little open aired and noxious taxi as their libido soared in response to the damp heat and the ever present threat that the exquisitely beautiful Thai women posed to them. Especially as those same Thai ladies had figures that Hollywood superstars would give ten years income for and a fulsome lipped and generously applied smile that could melt permafrost. And they were rather partial to farang males too with their - rumored - large penises and generous natures. So a threat they were and so they had to be countered by a display of raw affection that western women rarely had to display at home in order to keep their men focused on them. He'd observed it all from his perch in the drivers seat, through his strategically placed mirror. He knew, like every other Thai male, that Thai women were rather shy sexually and rarely displayed overt sexual signals, holding hands between consenting adults - unless they were of the same sex - was rarely done even in metropolitan Bangkok. So Suthee had developed a rather warped and jaundiced view of western women as he watched them crawl all over their men. A prejudice he was willing to share with his two companions who were watching the display, as Patty's breasts swayed in the firelight, with open mouths and raging boners. They'd seen gorgeous, sensuously curved, blondes before of course, but rarely in a state of undress and raw naked sexuality that Patty displayed as the thrust of her hips whisked her sarong and the garland of jasmine bounced lightly against the firm swell of her pert breasts as she swayed with her eyes closed. Thai women tended to be rather flat chested in comparison to their western sisters and so Patty's display was rendered doubly enticing to the men, who had never seen anything like them before. Suthee watched for a while, chewing on the end of a toothpick then plucked it out of his mouth and used it to point her out to his companions as he confided, "Farang women have to have sex every day or they go mad." His two companions dragged their eyes away from her to stare in amazement at him as his revelation sunk in. "Every day?" Muttered one of them. Suthee nodded sagely and stuck his toothpick back in his mouth, secure in his vast knowledge on the subject and the sagacity of his wisdom. Greg, ever the gallant, had got himself completely stoned and was snoring lightly as he lay, splay armed on the sand. The men knew that he was the goddesses' 'husband' and for a moment they felt a small pang of pity for her. She was going to go mad tonight for sure. Then, as if a thunderbolt from the clear skies had simultaneously struck them, they realized how they could help her in her plight. And lustful grins were flashed between them. Patty was oblivious. She was imagining herself as an island girl lost in the sensuality of a fertility dance at which the stunned and appreciative natives collectively lusted after her perfection in vain as they watched her gyrations. And so the tableau continued until the pressure on her bladder from the tall iced pineapple drinks asserted itself and she was forced to abandon her dance and seek a dark spot to perform her bodily functions. And so, as if in answer to a thousand prayers cast up to Buddha, she made her way into the trees directly towards the goggle eyed group of men. She didn't see the men, the effect of the potent weed had stripped away her natural caution and she crouched barely a dozen feet away from them and they saw a stream of gold arch from between her thighs. It was all too much for them and at an almost silent indication from Suthee they pounced. "Hey what the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed as she felt herself being manhandled deeper into the trees. But there was no answer, just the harsh breathing of the men and the feel of their hard hands as they held her tightly while they dragged her away. Her bikini bottom was the sort that just tied on and so it was scooped up from the ground as she opened her mouth to scream and thrust deep inside. Now, in addition to tasting herself, she started to taste fear. But it was far too late for her. She was virtually naked, gagged and available and those that had lusted after her for so long wanted to savor what her tight body could offer. And they weren't prepared to let a little thing like her lack of consent stand in their way as they traded their lust for her humiliation and terror. Away into the trees she was dragged until at last they could contain their lust no longer and she was forced down onto the ground. She was a good healthy girl with a strong sense of self-preservation and she put up one hell of a good fight as her sarong was ripped away from her torso and thrown into the trees. But one stoned woman was no match for three hyped-up men and so she found herself with her arms pulled high above her head and her legs yanked unceremoniously open. There was a moment of clarity and stillness as the men admired her flawless body as it writhed desperately in the moonlight. From the fluff of her golden pubic hair to the firm swell of her breasts that kept their shape and thrust saucily up as if beckoning the touch of a warm male hand, she radiated a clean cut and healthy sexuality that sent their pulses racing. Suthee was the first to react and he fastened a coarse and calloused hand over one of the enticing mounds and squeezed and twisted it as if he was trying to tear it off to take home as a trophy of his soon to be fulfilled lust. Another hand grabbed its twin and Patty reared as it too had hard fingers delving into it. And when a hand snaked between the junction of her thighs and a finger insinuated itself into her sex she almost managed to tear herself free from their grasp as her pain and humiliation lent her the strength of ten. Almost wasn't good enough and so they continued to hold her. And molest her. And humiliate her. And force long screaming shards of agony to course through her. And so, after long lingering minutes of pleasure for her captors it was generally sensed that it was time for the main event. She would not go mad tonight that was for sure. Suthee jerked open her thighs as wide as they would go and forced himself between them. Patty struggled. Patty heaved. And Patty cried large tears of helpless terror. And Suthee couldn't give a damn. His boner was raging, her pussy was open and inviting and he had two brimming balls full of cream that were aching to be emptied. She was struggling so much it took him three attempts before he could line himself up with her. But he didn't mind, the feel of her pistoning legs as they rubbed against the sides of his body was driving him wild. The imperative of emptying himself overwhelmed whatever slight scruples he might have harbored and he thrust joyously inside her. He was smaller than Greg, who had a dong that did justice to his muscle rippled body, but she was dry and so it burned into her like all the fires of hell had erupted between her legs. Her eyes screwed shut as hot burning tears of pain and almost overwhelming humiliation were forced out of them as she felt him hammering himself inside her. Her back formed an almost perfect parabola as he used all his might to ram his last few millimeters inside and his hips smashed into hers. He waited for long seconds as he reveled in the feelings that her writhing body were evincing in him. This was good, the best, even better that Rei the Chaing Mai virgin who he had sundered last year and had turned into a whore. The look of pleading in her eyes as she opened them to stare at him caused emotions to well in him that were best left hidden deeply. It is said that the flip side of the Thai's easygoing attitude to life and slowness to anger was deep, dark and dangerous. As any person who was familiar with the country will tell you once the breaking point was breached then the average Thai reacted with a ferocity and cruelty second to none. And so it was with Suthee. She represented something to him that could only be guessed at but it was dark and horror filled and it needed purging with a frenzied brutality. And so he took her, with a strength and power that made even his companions gasp at its raw naked abandon. It was as if years of humiliation from kow-towing to the Farang dollar had finally welled up and needed assuaging in the depths of her body. And so he took her. Pounding at her with an almost superhuman strength. Battering her down into the soft white sand as his companions held onto her limbs preventing her from retaliating in any way. And all she could do was take it. Thrust after thrust. Slamming jerk after slamming jerk. Deep inside her body. She twisted, she turned, she heaved, she cried and she beseeched him with he eyes to pity her. But he was in no mood for pity. Slamming, primeval lust was driving him on. And all she could do was take it. For long minutes he battered away at her and then they both started to feel the wellspring of the final horror he was about to unleash in her. She felt him harden and swell, she saw him close his eyes tightly and she tried to twist herself free, desperate to avoid the final humiliation. A male orgasm sounds the same wherever it was in the world and the groan that blossomed deep in his throat was a harbinger of her ultimate degradation. She shook her head frantically as his hands formed into claws that dug deep into her breasts as his climax started to flower. He almost howled out loud as the feelings pulsed inside his penis as wave after hot salty wave was hosed inside her cringing body. Her unprotected body. Her and Greg had practiced safe sex. With condoms. And so to add to her pain she had the added horror of a man's seed being dumped inside her for the first time. Moreover an unknown, and barely discerned, man's seed. She mewled out her humiliation and shame, past her bikini gag, as he continued to empty himself directly into her fertile womb. Finally with a flurry of short jerks he finished and she responded with a wracking shudder as she felt him pull himself out and a thin trickle of his juices trickled down the crack of her ass. And then there was another between her long slim legs. She was wet and so it didn't hurt so much but the added humiliation caused her to cry softly as she felt him sink into her sopping pussy. And after he had used her cruelly as an unwilling dump for his essence; there was another. And in response to the cell phone calls a dozen or more motorcycles screamed through the night and innumerable men took the opportunity to empty themselves into her. And all she could do was endure. (**************** (c) 2002 Spoonbender@hotmail.com ****************) She never did know how many men had used her that night. She lost count after a dozen and fainted after a score had purged themselves of their lust in her body. She came to sometime long after they'd gone just as the sun's first fiery rays started to blister the land. Pregnant. (**************** (c) 2002 Spoonbender@hotmail.com ****************) And the moral of this tale is - if you must insist on dancing topless then go on the pill. Email me if you liked it my email is spoonbender@hotmail.com -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+