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From: artyeleven@yahoo.co.uk (Artyeleven)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 9 May 2004 06:26:51 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Jenny (2/7) {Arty} (MF rom slow rape gang anal drug)
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Date: Sun,  9 May 2004 06:10:05 -0400
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Jenny
by Arty

Chapter 2

Why had I let Steve persuade me? I didn't even like the guy
really, he just happened to be one of the six of us sharing
a floor as first-year students in University accommodation.
Now, a couple of years later, he was just someone I knew.

"Hey Davey boy, there's a girl pulling a train in the back
bedroom." Steve was flushed; I wondered what he was on.
"I've just come from there, Christ, she is so hot." He
dragged me up the stairs, I allowed myself to be pulled into
the bedroom in spite of my misgivings. I stared in shock as
two men were being 'serviced' by her simultaneously. She was
flushed and every couple of minutes or so she shuddered and
cried out. I realised that she was cumming almost
continually. I felt myself becoming aroused. Some girl I
knew vaguely pulled me closer and whispered lasciviously in
my ear.

"Go on you know you want to. If you're worried about 'sloppy
seconds' I'll put a condom on you."

In a moment of madness, for which I will always be ashamed,
I nodded my acquiescence. Almost before I knew it and with a
skill that spoke of long practice, I was exposed and
rubberred and standing in line waiting my turn. The guy in
front of me groaned and fell forward onto the girl. I
couldn't remember ever being so turned on. The girl started
groaning, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." The guy half fell
sideways and I was pushed forward to take his place. After a
while the girl who had done the honours for me whispered
again.

"Hey, you wanna assfuck her?" She nodded at the two men who
had had their turn and they lifted her legs so that her anus
was in line with my cock. The girl was still chanting, and
then I felt myself being pushed into her. The feeling as my
cock slipped easily past the ring of her anus was exquisite;
so hot, so tight. Automatically, I thrust into her and she
cried out with lust.

Afterwards I couldn't believe that I had done that. I
consoled myself that the girl had been a willing
participant, but later, even that crutch was taken from me.
A few hours after the gang-bang, I was thinking of leaving;
even though it was the weekend, I had an important paper to
finish by Monday and I still had a lot of work to do on it.
I wandered upstairs looking for my coat. I found the girl
wandering naked in the room with the coats. She seemed lost.

"Are you OK?"

"I don't know; have you seen my coat?"

"What does it look like?"

"I don't know. Do you know?"

"Do you remember where your clothes are?"

"Clothes? I just need my coat. I don't remember where I put
it. Do you know where the coats are?"

I was starting to get a bad feeling about things. I looked
into her eyes and saw nothing but blankness. I remembered
something that I'd read a while ago about a new
tranquilliser that had an interesting side effect. Well two
actually, firstly they made the recipient malleable and
secondly it impaired the recall of events that had happened
while under the influence. I grabbed my coat and wrapped it
around her. Then I went looking for Steve, bringing the girl
along with me. I found him in the kitchen, bragging to the
gang assembled there.

"She's a right little goer, especially with a few drops of
this in her." He waved a small bottle around. I saw red -
I'd always wondered about this phrase, and now I knew the
truth of it. All I could see was Steve and that bottle
through a red haze. I grabbed it and threw it against the
wall smashing it and scattering its contents over the people
standing nearby.

"Hey! That cost me a fucking bomb!"

"Good!"

"I paid more than a hundred quid for that! You owe me!"

That did it. I grabbed his throat and forced him to his
knees. His breath came in short, gargling gasps. I spoke
quietly and all the more menacingly for it, I realised
later.

"Shut the fuck up and listen. You are a fucking shithead and
if I hear that you're doing this again, I will make sure
that you regret it. Understand?"

He nodded as much as he could. I dropped him like so much
dog shit and looked at my fingers as if they were
contaminated, which, in a way, they were.

"Don't stand there, all high and fucking mighty, you
bastard! You fucked her too!"

I didn't think twice, I brought my foot back and kicked him
in the face. All I wanted to do was to wipe that smug,
leering grin off his face. The crunch as his nose fractured
and his teeth broke was audible in the shocked silence that
surrounded us. Steve fell forward and blood pooled around
him.

"Someone had better call an ambulance if you don't want him
to bleed to death." I spoke with detachment. At that moment
it was a matter of indifference to me what happened to him
and this was reflected in my tone. I don't remember ever
feeling so cold about anything. I collected the girl and
walked out of the house. She followed me docilely and I
wondered what I would have to do to assuage the towering
guilt that I felt.

.oOo.

The ringing of my 'phone caused me to jerk awake. For a
moment I couldn't remember where I was until the familiar
outlines of my bedroom impinged on my consciousness and I
relaxed. Then the realisation that Jenny was looking for me
crashed into my thoughts and I groaned in despair. I picked
up the handset and held it to my ear.

"Andy. Are you all right? I've been worried about you. Sally
said you haven't been into work."

"I didn't feel very well, so I thought I'd come home and go
to bed."

There was silence at the other end as Kate thought about
this. "I'm coming over and you're going to tell me what's
wrong."

"Kate, don't..."

I was talking to the dialling tone. I lay back and wallowed
in self-pity while I waited for my nemesis to arrive.
Meanwhile, the memories of that fateful night continued to
unfold.

.oOo.

"What's your name?"

"Jenny. Jenny Wilcox."

"How do you feel Jenny?"

"Hot, I feel hot. Too hot to wear clothes. Steve said so."

Fucking bastard, castration was too good for him. I tried to
think of something to say, to undo the harm that he had
caused this girl. Thankfully we arrived at my car and I was
saved from attempting to perform some possibly-damaging
amateur psychiatry. I unlocked the doors and helped her to
sit in the passenger seat. I fastened the seatbelt and spoke
to her slowly and confidently.

"Jenny it's colder now, so you should wear my coat."

"Colder now."

"I'm just going to close the door. You won't be alone long,
just until I can get in the driver's seat. You'll be safe
for a minute."

"Safe."

"Yeah, safe. I'll keep you safe, Jenny. I swear it." I
sobbed a little as I spoke. She looked so small and lost in
my coat. I wiped away my tears and rushed round to the
driver's side and got in. I had fastened my seatbelt and was
just about to start the car when I realised that I had no
idea where she lived. Could she tell me in this state? There
was nothing I could do but ask. Without hesitation she
reeled off an address not too far away. While I was driving
I was able to put the events of the night to the back of my
mind. And then I was concentrating on the problems of
getting her into her bed-sit.

"Jenny, where are your keys?"

"In m'pocket."

"What do you do if you lose them?"

"Lose them?"

"If you lose your keys, what do you do?"

"When did I lose m'keys?"

"Just now. Never mind I have them."

I looked at the fit of the door in the doorway and I
realised that because the doorway was never intended to be a
front door I could slip a credit card between the door and
jamb where the rim lock was. Feeling like a second-rate
private eye in a B-movie I dug a card from my wallet and
slid it into the gap. A slight push and the door swung open.
Bloody hell! It worked! Trying to seem casual I pulled Jenny
with me and into her bed-sitting room. Apart from a few
clothes strewn casually about it seemed neat and tidy. I
marched her over to the bed and sat her down. She needed to
be cleaned up; I looked into the bathroom and saw that there
was a shower attached to a bath. Great, I wasn't too keen on
trying to shower with her, but this arrangement with bath
and showerhead meant I could clean her up without risking
her drowning in a bath. With coaxing and gentleness I got
her sitting in the bath and then I started to wash her and
rinse her. All the while I kept up a constant stream of
comforting inanities. Every time I stopped she would seem
more agitated and then each time I started speaking again
she would calm down. When I'd finished bathing her, she
seemed happier, but still completely out of it. I wondered
how long the effects of this stuff lasted.

Once she was in bed I told her she was safe and to close her
eyes and go to sleep. I held her hand, stroked her forehead
and sat and waited until I could see her relax and fall into
a fitful sleep. I was aware of tears rolling down my face
but could do nothing to stop them. As she slept I mourned
the passing of the person I had been and I vowed that,
somehow, some way, I'd repair the damage that had been done
to her this night.

Eventually, her sleep deepened to the point where I could
let go of her hand. Once free of my self-imposed duty, I
began to look around the flat. The clothes I had noticed
appeared to be the ones that she had been intending to wear
to the party. As I picked them up and folded them, I noticed
her coat lying over the back of a chair. On impulse I felt
in the pockets and I found the keys to her room where she
had said they would be. The rage that I had felt towards
Steve ignited once more; the bastard had dosed her up here,
got her to strip and then transported her naked to his
party! I promised myself that some day I'd see that he'd pay
for this.

Once the clothes had been tidied away, I looked for a
kitchen. It turned out to be an alcove separated from the
main room by a curtain. I'd missed it the first time as I'd
assumed that it was a window behind the curtain. There was a
sink, a small hob, and a microwave/grill combination thing.
Under a short work surface there was a fridge, I could see
from dust on the cooking stuff that she didn't cook here, so
I held out no hope that the fridge held much. I was wrong;
it held absolutely nothing, not even a bottle of milk.
Didn't she drink tea or coffee? I noticed that there was no
kettle; that answered that question, I thought.

I looked in the cupboards for glasses and filled a couple
with water from the sink. One I placed by the bed and the
other I drank. The nausea I was feeling abated somewhat, but
since it was the manifestation of the searing self-loathing
that I felt, it was never going to succumb to merely
physical remedies. I returned to the seat by her bed and
continued my vigil

-Continued-

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