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Subject: {ASSM} Ravishing Alice (Part One) (M+/F, nc, rp, fantasies
Date: Sun, 18 Nov 2001 22:10:02 -0500
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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.
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