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Message-ID: <40988asstr$1045779005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry)
NNTP-Posting-Date: 19 Feb 2003 23:06:56 GMT
User-Agent:  Xnews/2.09.30
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} RAPE! {Hungry Guy} (F/M rape tort viol cbt sad nc Fdom snuff va Fpov caution caution! CAUTION CAUTION!)
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 2003 17:10:05 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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[posted and mailed]

{ASS} RAPE! {Hungry Guy} (F/M rape tort viol cbt sad nc Fdom snuff va Fpov 
caution caution! CAUTION CAUTION!)
BY:  hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com

>>> WARNING:  THIS STORY IS EXTREMELY OFFENSIVE TO AMERICANS!!! <<<

Foreword:  This is a work of fiction.  None of the people in this story are 
real.  None of these events ever happened.  This story is nothing more than 
words that came from my imagination.  Any similarity to any real people, 
places, or events is purely coincidental. 

Operators of erotic story web sites and other collections, whether free or fee-
based, have my permission to post and/or distribute my stories, provided that 
credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com or 
hungryguy@literotica.org) as the author.  You may not make changes other than 
fixing typos.  Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang 
and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker.  Thanks.

    ###

    Kathy was somber, furious, depressed, rabid, haunted, and tormented at the 
rape, torture, and murder of her teenage daughter.  After two months, the 
police still hadn't solved the murder.  That Monday evening in September, she 
called her husband from her office overlooking the Statue of Liberty and told 
him that she had to work late.  Her senior management position occasionally did 
require her to work late, but she would just take a room at the Hilton across 
the street on those occasions rather than taking the LIRR home late at night.  
So, to maintain her alibi, she rented a room that she would not be using and 
then headed north.

    So she planned her revenge and she waited.  She stood by an alley on 23rd 
street, gun in hand.  A Saturday Night Special, it turned out, was easier to 
obtain than she had expected.  

    It was quiet at 3:00 AM.  Most of the action was in midtown or farther 
south.  A few people walked by, but they weren't right.  She ignored women, 
either alone or in groups.  Likewise, old men were spared.  Young men in groups 
were most common, some even came on to her as she stood there glaring at them 
walking past her.  

    Finally, a lone young man came walking down the sidewalk.  Looking 
unthreatening as they come, he was wearing a Star Trek tee-shirt under a light 
blue jacket, with a pair of khaki Dockers, and white sneakers.  He smiled at 
her as he walked past, unusual for New York at any time, but especially late at 
night on a deserted street.  She was prepared with a number of retorts for 
whatever come-on he might say to her, but he just nodded at her as he walked 
past and continued down the street.  She almost let him go, too, but he was 
perfect.  He was also the first young lone guy to walk past in the hours that 
she had been waiting.  She fondled her gun and followed him.  She caught up 
with him after a few steps and jabbed the gun in his back.  "Stop right there, 
you bastard."

    "What?" is all he could say.

    "You heard me, fucker."

    "Is this a hold up?  Okay, my wallet's in my back pocket.  Just take it and 
go, okay?"

    "This isn't a fucking hold up you idiot."  She grabbed the back of his 
jacket and turned him around, and walked him back into the alley.

    "Take off your clothes."

    "What?"

    The gun trembled in her hand pointed at his face as she shouted, "Now!"

    He undressed before her, dropping his clothes in a pile at his feet.

    "Lie down.  On your back.  Come on!"

    He lied down on his back as she commanded.  "Please don't hurt me.  I've 
got forty some bucks, a credit card, and a return train ticket to Jersey.  Just 
don't shoot me, please."

    "Shut up and listen.  I've got my gun on you so don't do anything stupid."

    "Okay," he whimpered. 

    Holding her gun with one hand, she loosened her belt with the other and let 
her pants fall, exposing her bare ass.  She kicked them off from around her 
feet and stood directly over his head facing his feet.  Then she sat.  She 
placed her full weight on his face with her legs spread out in front of her.  
Her pussy was over his mouth, and his nose was jammed up her asshole.  "Lick my 
cunt, you bastard.  Make me come."

    Kathy felt his tongue licking her pussy.  It felt awful.  She felt like it 
was he who was raping her, rather than the reverse. 

    The situation immediately reminded her of a diversity program given at her 
office last week .  One feminist speaker told the gathering that the definition 
of sexual harassment is determined by how the victim feels, not by the intent 
of the male perpetrators.  If a woman feels that a sexist cartoon in a male 
colleague's office is sexual harassment, then, by definition, it is sexual 
harassment.  Or if a woman who overhears a sexist joke in passing through a 
hallway feels it to be sexual harassment, then that too is sexual harassment.  

    By the same logic, since she felt that this man was raping her, then he was 
indeed guilty of rape and she should feel no remorse for what she was about to 
do to him. 

    A different speaker had said that when crimes occur, especially against 
women, we are _all_ guilty.  So this bastard is as guilty of murdering her 
daughter as any other.

    "Make me come, you fucking bastard!" 

    She felt his tongue poking her clit now.  He started swirling it with his 
tongue.  He continued, on and on, swirl after swirl.  At last, she felt the 
tension building up in her loins.  Then he stopped licking and his body just 
started bucking.

    "Hey!  Either I come, our you die of suffocation!"  She was practically 
shouting.

    He continued swirling.  It wasn't long before she felt the tension return.  
A moment later, she came.  She felt her pussy get wet as she was bouncing on 
his face.  She almost dropped her gun being that the sensation was so intense.  

    After a moment, she wound down and sighed.  She leaned back to let him 
catch his breath, and the force of air exploding from his mouth sent a chill 
through her pussy.  She let him gasp a few times before she leaned forward, 
pressing her pussy against his mouth again.  

    She had been standing on that street for hours, not daring to leave so she 
wouldn't miss her perfect victim.  She had had to pee for a while, and now she 
realized that her bladder was feeling like it was about to burst.  Yet, she 
couldn't abandon her victim now to find a restroom, or even pee against the 
wall while he got away, or worse, grab her.  She had no choice.  She relaxed 
her muscles and let her piss flow into his mouth.  She sucked in her breath and 
emptied her bursting-full bladder forcefully and without pause.  

    "You're a dead man if you spit out any of my water!"  Then she leaned back 
to let him swallow and take another breath.  She felt him gulp it down and gasp 
for breath again.  

    Before he could speak again, she leaned forward, put her gun in her vest 
pocket, and grabbed his dick with her left hand.  It was hard as a rock.  With 
her right hand, she pressed the fingernail of her index finger to the hole at 
the end of his dick and pushed it in.  He started bucking under her again while 
blood oozed out of his dick as she wiggled and slid her long fingernail deep 
into the hole.  Then she let go of his dick with her left hand, grabbed his 
ball sack, and squeezed with all her might.  Then she squeezed a little harder.  
Then harder still.  She could feel her face turning red at the force she was 
using to squeeze his balls.  She could squeeze no harder, so she just sat like 
that for a minute or two, squeezing his balls and with her fingernail up his 
dick.  

    He started bucking furiously, even stronger than before.  She let go of his 
balls and pulled her fingernail out of his dick.  Her index finger was all 
bloody.  She reached into her purse, took out a Kleenex, and wiped her finger 
as best as she could.  She grabbed her gun again and lifted herself off his 
face.

    He gasped for breath for a long while, but he was still hard as a rock.

    She turned around and lowered herself onto his dick.  Being that she was 
still wet, she slid onto it easily..  

    "Why are you doing this to me?" he pleaded.  "Why?"

    "Just shut the fuck up, asshole!" she answered.

    Pointing the gun at his face, she started rocking back and forth, making 
his dick slide in and out of her pussy in rhythm.   

    It wasn't long before he came.  He screamed in pain with every throb.  She 
continued rocking back and forth, milking him with her pussy as he screamed in 
agony.

    Having emptied him, she moved her ass back onto his face.  His dick was a 
bloody and cummy mess, as must be her pussy.  She pulled a length of rope from 
her knapsack as his blood and cum dribbled from her pussy into his mouth.  She 
tied a loop and slipknot into one end of the rope and put the loop around the 
base of his ball sack.  Then, she grabbed his balls and yanked the noose tight 
with her other hand, making him buck under her ass.  Then she stood and walked 
over below a fire escape of one of the buildings.  She ignored his incoherent 
crying as she tossed the rope up and over a rung of the fire escape railing.  
Then she started pulling the rope hand-over-hand until it went snug from his 
balls, up over the fire escape railing, and down to her grasp.  

    With a huff, she started pulling the rope with all her might.  He lifted 
his butt higher and higher, straining to hold himself up by his legs keep from 
hanging from his balls.  She continued pulling, and his feet lifted from the 
ground and he let out a piercing scream.  Still she continued pulling as his 
body was raised to a steeper and steeper angle.  He finally passed out when his 
body was nearly vertical with only his head and shoulders resting on the 
ground.  She pulled a few more times, lifting his body entirely off the ground, 
and hanging by his balls.  She then took her end of the rope and tied it 
securely to a rung of a grating of a basement window.  

    Still nude from the waist down, she let out a sigh and retrieved her jeans.  
She pulled her jeans back up, buckled her belt.  Then she picked up his pile of 
clothes and tossed them into a Dumpster behind the building.  Then she and 
walked down the alley back toward the street.  She stopped a few feet from the 
street, turned, and pointed the gun at his head swinging below the fire escape.  
Then she lowered the gun, muttering to the silence, "If I kill him now, I'll 
just end his misery.  Better to leave him hang and let him die in pain."

    She walked out to the street, surprised to see the sun coming up already.  
She checked her dress, it wasn't too bad.  Fortunately, she had a change of 
clothes in her knapsack.  She hailed a cab which took her back down to Chambers 
street.  She walked across the street to the Hilton and rented a room, she 
would only need it to shower and change her dress.  So she showered and changed 
into her clean dress.  It was a little rumpled from being in her knapsack, but 
it would have to do.  She ripped her old dress into shreds and flushed it down 
the toilet pit by bit.  Then, leaving a $20 tip for the chambermaid, she exited 
the room.

    She rode the elevator down to the basement of the hotel and exited into the 
underground the shopping mall connecting the hotel to the two office buildings.  
She picked up a paper from the newsstand across from the large bank of 
escalators down to the PATH station, from which hundreds of people were 
emerging for work that morning.  She ran through the doors of her building into 
the lobby and, seeing a group of people enter an elevator, she rushed over 
shouting, "Hold the elevator, please!"

    The elevator quickly rose.  She checked her watch.  "Damn!" she muttered 
seeing that it was past 9:00 already.  "Can't this elevator get up to the 92nd 
floor any faster?" 

    A fellow passenger smiled and said, "Late for a meeting, huh?"

    Kathy smiled back and just said, "Yeah, what else is new?"

    Suddenly the elevator shook to a muffled boom coming from elsewhere in the 
building, then it stopped as the lights went out.

    "What the hell?" someone said.

    "It looked sunny when I left for work this morning," added another.

    The emergency light came on a second later and someone else said, trying to 
be helpful, "The thunder must have knocked out the power.  I've been stuck in 
elevators before.  It's no big deal.  Really."

    Kathy was actually relieved at this development -- getting stuck in an 
elevator would be the perfect excuse for being late to her staff meeting -- 
"There is justice in the world after all," she thought silently to herself.  

    The other people in the elevator glanced at her as she chuckled to herself, 
thinking, "Unless some really major news event occurs today, the papers and TV 
are going to have a field day when they find that bastard hanging by his balls 
in that back alley." 

    At that thought, she pulled her paper from under her arm and started 
reading to "Let's see," she said, "what are the headlines today on the 11th?"  

    - END -

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