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From: spoonbender@hotmail.com (Theodore Spoonbender)
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Subject: {ASSM} ** New Spoonbender Story - Of all the luck (nc)
Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2001 07:10:04 -0400
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Of all the bad luck (nc)

************************************************
(c)2000 Spoonbender.  A short story of an adult nature.  Not to be
read by minors.  If you don't like this sort of stuff or you are
underage then don't read.  Contains allusions to naughty, erotic
goings on.  Can be freely distributed as long as it is not changed,
including this heading.  If it is to be archived  then please email me
first for permission.  Note that the characterizations are mine.  I do
not like people stealing them for inclusion in their own efforts.
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.  My email address (if you feel the
unrelenting urge to shower me with praise) is Spoonbender@hotmail.com

Please look at my sex story survey at www.spoonbender.demon.co.uk It
is completely anonymous and the results will be posted on the web to
assist me and other writers in focusing our stories better. Many
thanks.
************************************************* 

Yes er I suppose you could say I was raped. Good and proper. He was
big too. Huge.

Let me tell you about it.

I was working at this textile factory one summer. I was working over
my summer break to get some money together for when I went back to
college in the fall. It was nothing work, just pulling around rolls of
textiles and cutting them into certain lengths. 

On the whole I tended to work on my own. My section was called special
orders and the amount of stock we shifted was miniscule in comparison
to the rest of the factory where they wove and printed it. The section
itself was in a separate building, joined by a short open air path so
very few people came in. It was lonely sometimes but I like my
solitude. It helped me think and I like thinking.

I was what I suppose you'd call the scholarly type. I dressed pretty
conservatively as a rule and the nearest I ever got to risqu  was when
I used to wear tight jeans. Which I only did when I was at work. The
rest of the time I wore mid calf dresses and skirts. I wasn't a prude
or anything like that but I was painfully shy and a little bit
apprehensive about boys.

My sexlife hadn't helped my self esteem much either. It was a series
of false starts followed by a head on crash on my first real time out.
I should have known really, why on earth would one of the most
handsome young men in the school come on strong to me? I wasn't ugly
or anything like that, I have dark blond hair, rather full lips and a
pointy sort of nose. I suppose I had a nice body, I was tall and slim
with nice boobs. I thought my ass was a bit fat but then all my
friends thought theirs were too.

Anyway he had me swooning from almost the first hour. He was strong
and handsome and very bright. I was swept off my feet and feeling a
bit giddy with all the attention I got from the 'smart' set of the
school. 

It took him only two weeks and three days to take my virginity. He
even took a photograph of me lying there, catching my breath feeling
his seed running down the inside of my wide open thighs.

I hear he won a great deal of money for that. The story I heard is
that he bet his buddies that he could get to fuck me within three
weeks. I was THE challenge of the school.

It still makes me shiver with humiliation when I think of those boys,
they hardly behaved like men did they, gloating over the photograph
and my panties which he had taken before I could gather my wits. He
had just strolled out of the trees leaving me there with my skirt
coiled round my waist and my legs spread. I saw him after that of
course, but he just ignored me while his friends smirked at me.

I got hit on a lot after that too, now that the word was out that I
put out. 

I never did of course, not there at least.

For weeks afterwards I tried to rationalize it in my mind. Was it rape
or not. I'd consented and I was happy enough about it for a couple of
days, until I found out. It was then that I got the sick feeling in
the pit of my stomach.

It should have been the most romantic moment of my life but it ended
up as a quick rutting in the woods behind the gym on the way home from
school. Let me tell you I felt 'really' special and it did my
confidence a world of good. It improved my irony too.

After that, well lets just say patchy. I was nearly half way through
my second semester at College when I first attracted a boyfriend.
Geoff was kind and gentle and a rat faced mother.... He no sooner
enticed me back between the sheets - which was no mean feat I can tell
you - than he ran off with that Vamp Marcie. 

I met Mark on the rebound and he was great. He was fairly quiet but I
put him down for great things. He was an accomplisher he could get
things done, in a quiet understated way things happened when he was in
charge. He was never going to be the number one, he was too self
effacing for that but bosses would kill to have him as a number two.
On a thumping salary plus perks.

That wasn't the only attraction of course. He was fairly tall, a shade
over 6' 1", with straight dark hair and a fairly intense demeanor
which changed dramatically when he smiled. I loved that smile.

He gave me my first true orgasm. I'd felt pleasure with Geoff but not
the intense pleasure and the deep afterglow I got with Mark. As for
the boy at school....I never really even got to first base with him, I
don't supposed that mattered much to him really, he got what he
wanted.

We slept together quite often after that. Until he joined that
Religious sect. At first I was tempted as they all seemed so happy but
then I started to get nervous. What did it for me in the end was when
I overheard two girls talking about how they effectively prostituted
themselves in order to get new male recruits. Who in turn got more
females. Who in turn prostituted themselves to pay for the mission. I
was always naturally cautious and I urged Mark to get out. He reported
me to the house leader and it was only by threatening to scream the
place down that they let me go. I tried to pull Mark with me but he
refused to leave. I still remember his pitying smile as I left.

After that...nothing.

Summer term ended and I got this job in nowhereville, miles from
anyone I knew where I could collect my thoughts. Especially on why I
found it so hard to keep my men.

Anyway this one particular day it was warm as I recall. I remember
that all I was wearing was my jeans, no tell a lie I was wearing these
baggy shorts yes and a teeshirt. Oh yes and a sensible bra and
panties.

My job as I said was to use a little crane to hoist the bigger rolls
around to the cutting and measuring machine. The smaller stuff was
stacked in piles along the centre of the room, the big rolls were
quite high up. It was early afternoon on a Saturday. I'd volunteered
to work at the weekend because I wanted to save as much as possible
and there was nothing to do in this town on a Saturday afternoon
except drink or shoot pool and neither of them appealed to me much.

I was leaning over the piles of small rolls when it happened. Even
today I'm entirely sure exactly what took place but the outcome was
that one of the big rolls above me came off its hanger somehow and
suddenly heavy cloth started to pile on top off me as it uncurled
itself from the drunkenly hanging roll. 

I felt myself being pressed down by the cloth. Not really hurt or even
winded, it wasn't that tightly packed and the cloth I was leaning over
had plenty of give in it. It dropped over my head and curled over the
floor and my world went black. It was then that I panicked. 

I kicked and heaved and I must have dislodged the roll because it came
down diagonally across my body completely pinning me down helplessly.

I tried to move again, frightened to exert too much force in case I
somehow dislodged more reels. It was hopeless I was stuck.

I tried to size up the situation. I was bent over some rolls of cloth
with only my backside and legs sticking out. The rest of me was
covered with heavy cloth draped with a cloth reel. One that I couldn't
lift normally, never mind when I was  bent over. I was virtually alone
in the factory and I was sure no-one would hear my screams because of
the cloth.

It didn't add up to a pretty thought. I was trapped here, possibly
until Monday. I tried struggling again, a rising lump of panic gagging
in my throat.

I must have been there for a couple of hours when I heard some muffled
noises. It sounded like two men talking and my heart leapt into my
throat. I started to scream and wave my legs to attract their
attention, but the problem was that my backside was facing away from
the door and so all they must have been able to see was the huge pile
of cloth covering me. And of course that damned compressor started up
as I opened my mouth. Some luck eh?

After a few minutes the compressor stopped but the voices faded away
and I heard the door clang shut.

The next few hours were awful. I tried wriggling and pushing but that
didn't help. I'd already tried screaming and that just sounded
pathetic dulled, as it was, by the cloth. So I tried praying, invoking
whatever gods were out there. I'd be a good girl, well a better girl
anyway, whatever. Anything you want just get me out of there.

Prayers do get answered although quite possibly not in the way you
expected.

It must have been coming up to sunset I suppose when I first got that
feeling, because I could feel the air cooling on my bare legs. I had
been still for a few hours now, my brain being overwhelmed by all
sorts of strange images. It was strange what sensory deprivation would
do to you.

I can't describe the feeling I had except that it gave me the
impression that I wasn't alone.

My heart lurched, rescue at last. Which seemed to be confirmed a few
seconds later when I felt someone moving the cloth that was partly
draped over my left leg. He pulled it free and tucked it under the
cloth draped over my waist leaving my backside clear.

I was expecting him to start moving the cloth and waited agonizingly
long seconds for it to start shifting but there was nothing. I knew I
couldn't have imagined it, the cloth was gone from my leg. But where
had he gone? Did another reel fall and knock him out? Was he injured?
My mind spun and it was almost a relief when I felt his hands creep
around the waistband of my shorts.

He groped to the front, his hands on the button that held the shorts
together before I realized what he was up to. 'NO, no, no,' I thought.
This wasn't on. I tried kicking but he just leaned again my legs
effectively pinning them to the cloth bales as his fingers undid the
button.

He yanked my shorts down in a series of short jerks while I kicked and
fought him the best I could. But despite my best efforts he managed to
get them off me.

My panties posed no challenge at all to him and less than a second
later my crotch was bared to him. I squirmed and kicked and at one
point I must have connected because he suddenly grabbed my left leg
and jammed my foot into the center of a tightly wound bale of cloth.
He kicked and pushed at my heel until my foot was jammed immovably
into it. He then repeated it with the right leg until I was helplessly
spread and completely at his mercy.

I was terrified. I didn't know what to expect. I knew I was going to
get fucked but how? Fast, slow, big cock, little cock?

I was wrong as it happened. I didn't get fucked, not straightaway at
least.

I could feel his finger tracing the lips of my pussy and I started to
shudder and cry. This was awful. Especially as his finger became more
insistent. I could feel it rubbing up and down, up and down. Hitting
my clit on occasion nearly making me jump into space.

Then his finger started to move in slow circles around the entrance to
my pussy teasing my flesh. I could feel myself getting wet. I couldn't
help myself no matter how hard I tried my body was betraying me. It
just wasn't fair.

The finger started to push into me lightly in little dipping motions
and another finger starting moving across my clit. My juices must have
started gushing because I felt his finger slide into me. Oh shit, oh
shit. I couldn't get over the sensations that he was causing in me.

Then there were two fingers pumping in and out as I lay helplessly
taking it. There were an incredible number of feelings, thoughts and
emotions burning through me as I lay humiliated and shamed as he
finger fucked me.

And when he licked my clit... I can't describe it. It was intense. I
was always too insecure to consent to oral sex before and now I knew
what I was missing. I was bubbling along nicely despite all the best
efforts of my willpower when he stopped and the finger pumping
resumed. Suddenly that stopped too.

I honestly thought I was going to get a penis pushed into me that
instance. But nothing happened. For a moment I thought that he'd come
to his senses and was going to rescue me after all. 

It took me a few minutes to work out what he really was doing.

He was standing there, probably playing with his dick as he stared
down at me as I lay offered to him. I had this incredible feeling pass
through me. It was part shame, part anger, part humiliation with the
rest of it consisting of pure femininity. I felt like a slavegirl in
some Roman amphitheatre about to get impaled for the amusement of the
crowd. Don't ask me why, but it was my number one fantasy at that
time.

If you're thinking that it was odd,  a girl like me having these sorts
of lurid fantasies imagine how I felt. This was one of those things
that you didn't talk to your girlfriends about. It was years later
that I realized that I wasn't alone and I found a lot of other women
with the same or similar fantasies.

It was such a turn on in my fantasy life but in real life it left a
little bit to be desired. For a start it was not comfortable with my
legs stretched and pressed hard against the bales of cloth. I was
spread wide, wet as a pond and thoroughly humiliated and I fancied I
could feel his gaze on my secrets. 

It was some minutes before he again attended to me. Long minutes in
which my ardor cooled and my legs started to get cold in the chill of
the evening.

He rubbed me a little penetrating me every now and then. It was
obviously not intended to sexually excite me but merely to get me wet
to make it less uncomfortable for him I suppose. He did this for a
little while then stopped.

This was it.

I could feel the fat rubbery head of his penis rubbing against my sex
and I recoiled. I tried to get away but I had nowhere to go as he
started to push into me.

He answered one question for me, he was huge. I could feel my pussy
lips being pushed in by the relentless pressure of his giant penis. 

He popped the head inside then paused while he gripped the front of my
thighs. Then he started to push into me in earnest in short hammer
strokes. I felt completely overwhelmed by it as it started to batter
into me. My own panting and mewling magnified a thousand-fold in my
head by the press of the heavy cloth.

Finally he was fully inside me. He stopped while I twisted and turned
trying to find a comfortable position as he invaded me. It felt like I
was in two halves, carved down the middle with a huge pole.

I wanted to scream at him, tell him it was too big, please take it
out.

I thought he'd heard me. I was irrationally crazy by that point. I
honestly thought he'd stop. Yeah right fat chance. He pulled out
alright only to ram it back in again twice as fast.

He took me over, completely dominating and humiliating me as he
pounded away inside.

I wriggled frantically trying to minimize the pain but he was
relentless pulling my hips this way and that as he maximized his
pleasure.

I was nothing to him, just a piece of meat.

Just a hole that he could cum into.....oh my god no!

I wasn't on the pill. 

My struggles became even more frantic as I felt him increase his pace.
I pulled my legs with all my strength and finally managed to pull one
foot free. But it was hopeless, he didn't even pause as I tried to
find purchase enough to kick him. 

I couldn't. I screamed at him to stop. Don't.. not inside me
pleeeeease.

His lunges became more frantic as my screams got louder.

Suddenly with one gigantic lunge he stopped and rammed himself as deep
as he could inside me. I could feel my cervix giving way under the
pressure then he held his hips tightly against mine.

Then he exploded into me.

I could feel his sperm pumping into me, the sudden warmth making my
whole body cringe in humiliation. Spurt after spurt he shot into me as
I lay there completely humiliated and degraded. Unable to do anything
apart from take it.

After what seemed like several minutes he finally pulled out the head
of his prick being followed by a small gush of sperm.

I lay there as his sperm slithered down the inside of my thigh. Dazed
and confused, unable to take in what had just happened to me. I barely
noticed the lessening of the weight across my body.

In fact it was some hours later that I found that I had enough freedom
to wriggle free from my artificial prison. My foot was still trapped
and I nearly broke my ankle pulling it out. But eventually I was free.

My panties were missing which for some reason didn't surprise me but
at least he'd left my shorts.

I went home on empty that night. Empty of thought and emotion it was
as if I was in a trance.

After a series of showers I at last went to bed mulling it all over in
my mind. In the end I vowed to report it the next day.

At breakfast I heard the news. There had been a fire at the factory
and some people were feared to have died and I suddenly realized that
he had saved my life. 

I was on the classic horns of a dilemma. Then I reasoned that he must
have been one of the ones that had got trapped in the fire. It was
only the night shift that had access to the part of the factory where
I worked. There was a hole in the fence though that some workers had
cut to provide a short cut to their homes, so it might have been an
intruder. In which case he'd probably never be found.

So I just tried to forget about it and get on with my life.

It was hard though.

Just after the birth of my son (At least I knew his daddy was black) I
got a card.

It said.

Call him Al like my father. Signed Al Junior's proud dad.

I'd gotten it wrong again.

(***************************************************************)

Different eh? Email me at spoonbender@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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