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Message-ID: <63639asstr$1450120331@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} Bus Monitor 1
Lines: 350
Date: Mon, 14 Dec 2015 14:12:11 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


 

Bus  Monitor 1 (yM's,F, Rape)
 

    the stain in her the back of her legs  from the all day affair of the 
Christmas Bus Trip to New York City. School trips  can be so draining; but 
seeing the Holiday Window Displays and then the lit tree  at Rockefeller 
Center: somehow made up for the long hours on the bus and walking  with the 
students. No shopping done, but you couldn't expect that while watching  out for 
a bus full of high school boys and girls. Smiling how they define males  and 
females in high school as boys and girls and those in college as men and  
women. There were definitely some girls going on women on the bus today. The  
outfits were quite interesting and in some cases revealing. All things  
considered, what could you expect, when some of the accompanying mothers looked 
 like they might be street walkers from the City with their  outfits.
    Thank goodness no major incidents and  everyone back at the bus to 
leave on time for home. Still a long trip back and  school bus seats not very 
comfortable. Walking up and down the aisle as Susan  the driver neatly puts 
the bus in place in the back of the School Motor Pool  Lot. Shaking my head at 
the amount of paper and debris on the floor. Checking in  the dash box for 
a plastic bag for trash and wipes to clean up the miscellaneous  junk and 
spillage. "Damn." Not a one. Waiting as Susan logs out her mileage and  checks 
her gauges one last time. Then a once around the outside of the bus to  
inspect for any obvious problems. So meticulous the small blonde woman. 
Checking  off and signing her trip card. Throwing my shoulder bag over my left arm 
and  walking with Susan quietly through the dark yard with the long lines of 
school  buses. "Have to let dispatch and maintenance know that we have some 
lights out  in the back", Susan stopping in mid stride and noting this 
observation on her  record.
    "At least the snow will lighten it up  a little bit, and make it 
slippery. Wonder if we will have school runs tomorrow  or if they will cancel." 
Lifting my head to look up into a light and seeing the  small flakes 
highlighted against the halogen lights. Opening my mouth and  giggling like a little 
girl, as the tiny moist flake touch my tongue. Feeling a  nudge in my side 
from Susan. "Grow up Patrice!. You are worse then those  students we have on 
the bus." Feeling comfortable with the small blonde woman.  Having been 
partners on this run for a few years now. Feisty little bitch she  is, not 
backing down from the taller girls or boys. Sort of a "mutt and jeff"  look as we 
walk side by side. Susan blonde and pettite at 5'0", A lightweight  but 
with a fine body. Trim and big breasts for a small woman. The tight jeans  and 
flannel shirt open at the neck and a pair of soft black boots her normal  
dress for the bus run. And here I am 5'10" tall, not quite pettite. Average  
weight and small breasts. Wearing my usual skirt and button blouse outfit.  
Wearing the heavy wool tartan of my celtic heritage, the knee high matching  
socks and black tights underneath. The almost flat sensible shoes a good 
choice  today. The driving winds of the city streets pulling at the hem of my 
skirt  often, sending a chill through my body from the lower part up. 
Actually sorry  that I didn't put a bra on just for warmth, or at least something 
under my  blouse. My nipples still aching from the icy breaths of Jack Frost 
nipping at my  nips. Giggling again and having Susan turn to look at me with 
a look of askance.  "Not sure you want to know girl." Linking my arm in 
hers and pulling her along  with my long strides. Stopping at the gate house to 
the Bus yard and depositing  the clipboard and road trip log into the slot.
    "You forgot to lock up Patrice." As I  pulled the gates shut; but 
didn't run the chain through them and snap the  padlock. " I have to go back and 
do a quick clean job. Had some messy folks on  this trip." Susan looking up 
at me, "want me to help?""Thanks,  but no thanks. Go home to your husband, 
it won't take me long? Have a good night  and hopefully won't see you in the 
morning."  The christmas  decorations across the street from the school, 
winking brightly behind the soft  falling flakes of white.   
    Walking to the janitor's locker and  getting out a broom, dustpan, 
wipes and plastic bags. Waving at the custodian as  I walk out the main 
entrance, waving at a couple of kids waiting to be picked  up. and tramping with my 
sensible flats to the chain link fence of the Bus lot.  Turning to wave to 
Susan, as her horn honking turns me around for a moment. Then  removing the 
open padlock and the chain to swing the fence wide and pulling it  closed 
behind me.
    Trodding wearily to the back row of  buses, the blacktop a little slick 
under thin layer of snow.  Wishing I had  boots rather than my sensible 
shoes.  Shivering as a blast of cool air  swirls snow underneath my skirt, the 
tights not helping.  Shaking my head  as I reach the dark silhouette of the 
bus.  Wondering if coming in earlier  tomorrow and cleaning it up then would 
be a better decision.  Reaching down  and pulling on the latch at the 
bottom of the door, easing the door open as I  balance the cleaning supplies in 
my arms.  "Shit", as I juggle them and  finally pull them close to my chest.  
Stepping up into the small slit of  the doorway, setting my stuff down on 
the first seat and pulling the door  closed.  The cool blast of air shut off 
from inside the quickly cooling bus  interior. 
    Leaning over the drivers seat and  trying to find the interior light 
switch.  Turning as I hear the shuffling  sound behind me, feeling my arms 
grabbed in pinned to the side of my body, a  hand moving over my mouth muffling 
the scream rising from deep in my  chest.  Feeling fear filling my body, my 
legs trembling as the dull light  in the back of the lot is blocked out by 
cloth being pulled over my  head. 
     Standing in the aisle as bodies jostle  me, fingers pulling on the 
zipper of my wool poncho.  Hands shoving me to  along the aisle towards the 
back of the bus.  Balking and trying to dig my  heels in; but the hands pulling 
on mine and other prodding my back, keeping me  moving.  "Please, stop, 
this isn't funny."  The words muffled under  the cloth over my head.  My ears 
hearing sounds and words, but not able to  make them out. 
    "Stand still.  Don't  scream.  Don't resist."  The voice more distinct 
as it is focused at  me.  The voice of a young man or boy.  My hands pulled 
behind me hard,  as I feel fingers fumbling to lift my poncho up.  Not 
realizing that it  won't come off till they pull it off my arms.  The tartan vest 
next to be  undone and then fingers hurried fumbling at my blouse.  The 
buttons being  pulled apart, as hands squeeze at my small breasts.  Pulling at 
the semi  hard nipples with unknowing skill.  Using my size and weight, 
trying to tug  my hands free as I feel the fingers taking liberties.  Touching 
the small  mounds, bruising them with awkward grabs.  Freeing one hand for a 
moment  and pushing the hands away from my chest.  Then feeling a punch to 
my face,  shocked at the unexpected blow.  My hand going to my head trying to 
pull at  the covering.  "Stay still you stupid old cunt!"  The young voice  
seeming so unnatural with the words.  Then feeling a prick of pain in my  
left breast.  Followed by a wet feeling dripping down the small  mound.  
Screaming in the confines of the head covering, the cloth and bus  walls 
muffling the scream to a whisper outside the bus.  "I will cut you  more if you 
keep up bitch."  Stopping the struggle as a hand grabs mine  roughly and 
pulling both of them back hard, bending me over with the pain.   Gasping and 
groaning as I feel hands pulling at my skirt, grabbing at my panty  clad ass 
cheeks, another hand gropping the front of my panties.  The tights  pulled down 
my thighs.  Cool air washing against my upper legs and lower  body.
    Bent over as someone pull my poncho  up over my head and along my arms. 
 No fumbling at my blouse now as fingers  rip the buttons loose from the 
thin threads.  The shirt tail pulling  free The rough surface banging 
painfully into knees.  Another loud groan  wrenched from open mouth.  Feeling myself 
kneeling at the back of the  bus.  The large bench seat facing me, seeing a 
pair of sneakers in front of  my face as I stare at the floor.  Hands still 
painfully pulled high behind  me.  Feeling the gropping hands under my 
skirt, pulling at the fragile  material of my panties.  Ripping one panty leg 
down the side and then  pulling them down my thigh.  Hearing the other leg rip 
as it is pulled  roughly against my lower thigh and then ripping free. 
    Feeling tears welling in my eyes, as  I plead in a low whimper to be 
released, to not be hurt.  Hearing the young  laughter of the boys around me.  
Already accepting that they are young and  inexperienced as they continue 
to pull and push at my lower body.   Moaning as a pull on my arms pulls me up 
on my knees.  The sneakers turning  to pantlegs and then hearing the whisk 
of sound as a zipper is pulled  down.  The nervous laughter of the boys 
around me filling my ears, as I  find a  semi hard cock being shoved to my face. 
 My eyes watering as I  realize, that they may be boys; but they want what 
a man wants.  The  rubbery cock tip pressing on my lips.  My head moving 
side to side to try  to escape the pulsing cock.  Feeling my head gripped 
firmly, hair pulled  hard, and a pair of slender fingers, moving to pinch on my 
nostrils.   Gasping for air and finally opening my mouth, the cock hurriedly 
shoved between  my lips as I gasp for air. The warm cock being humped 
against my lips  feeling it growing as the boy in front of me is moaning loudly, 
the fine pubic  hair of his crotch tickling my nose.
    "Suck that cock ho, suck it good  now."  Feeling the prick of pain in 
my right ass cheek, as the knife end is  pushed again against the soft skin.  
My mouth forming on the cock, moving  my head up and down as I suck the 
twitching shaft.  Feeling a spurt of jism  as I hear a grunt as the boy shoots 
his scum into my mouth.  The discharge  a small amount and after two more 
grunts, the boy pulls his cock from my  mouth.  Another boy already pushing 
the first one to the side as he pushes  his cock into my face.  The warm shaft 
slapping my cheek, then centering  and pushing into my mouth.  This one a 
bit larger and thicker then the  first one.  The boys hands pulling on my 
head, as he skull fucks my  face.  My eyes sccrewed shut as I try not to think 
on what is  happening.  My mind shut down, not even registering the fingers 
kneading my  breasts and pulling on the long hard nipples.  Not feeling the 
fingers,  pushing against my folds and penetrating my pussy lips.  My legs 
trembling  as I kneel helplessly surrounded by a gang of boys. 
    My eyes going dark again as I feel  material pulled over them.  The 
scent in my nose, tells me that they are  most likely my torn panties.  The 
boys with my eyes blindfolded, feeling  more bold as they speak louder.  My 
shoulder joints aching as the hands  holding my hands stiff behind me pull me 
to my feet after the third discharge of  cum into my mouth.  Wanting to spit 
out the scum, feeling a thin ropy  strand hanging from my chin.  Wrestled 
forward and then pushed down on the  bench seat in the back.  Feeling my 
tights pulled down my legs and  off.  "She has nice legs, a soft voice comments." 
 then feeling the  leg of one of my tights being tied around my wrists 
behind me.  Then  feeling myself shoved back onto the seat roughly.  Moaning 
softly still  pleading to be released, as my legs are pulled apart.  Feeling a 
warm body  settling between them, a cock pushing against my thighs and full 
labia.   Finally pressing at the entrance and pushing into my pussy.  The 
walls  being pushed apart as the cock bruises the dry pussy walls.  Twisting 
and  trying to fight against the slowly sinking cock.  The boy grunting, 
hearing  him complain of how dry my pussy is.  Pulling is cock out of the   
uncooperative hole and then feeling his cock against my lips.  "Wet it up  
bitch.  You have an old dried up pussy you old cunt."  The cock  wetting in my 
mouth and then pulled quickly out.  Then a short second  later, the cock 
pushing again against the fat pussy lips.  The head  slipping in slowly then 
sliding into my cunt.  The boy awkwardly thrusting  his cock in and out and 
announcing with a loud grunt and thrust, his discharge  of cum into my pussy.  
The walls now slippery with my spit and his cum and  I think my juices.  In 
spite of the rape, my body responding to the long  too missed feel of a cock 
filling my tunnel.
    Another shuffle of feet and bodies  and another cock pushing at the 
entrance, a light now visible to my eyes, as a  flashlight illuminates the back 
of the bus.  "Get back out there and keep  an eye out, you stupid asshole, 
you will get your turn."  Hearing a boy  running down the aisle and the door 
slamming shut, as the new boy fucks into my  open pussy.  His body resting 
on my chest as he pumps his hips against my  body.  Pubic hair, coarser then 
the others rubbing and scratching against  the soft mound of my pubic area. 
 His cock discharging a thick load of  sperm and then another into my warm 
wet pussy. 
    "Give her that black snake.   Gawd that is one monster,"  The words 
puntucating the air as the boy  settles between my sticky legs.  Then the thick 
cock head pushing into my  open hole, filling it with it girth, stretching 
the walls apart.  Exhaling  as the long thick member delves deep into my 
tunnel.  My body shifting on  the cold bench seat, the cock sliding easily into 
my grasping tunnel.   Walls of warm flesh collapsing around the thick cock, 
squeezing on the warm  velvety skin.  My hips moving as the cock pumps 
relentlessly into my lower  body.  Hearing the laughter of the boys around me, 
as they comment on my  body moving on the cock, pushing to it.  "I knew she 
was a whore, look at  her fucking that black cock, wanting it deeper."  
Fingers still pulling on  the long full nipples extending from the flatness of my 
chest.  Feeling my  arching arms and hands pressing into my back as I lie 
on  them. 
    My lower body cold with the cooling  air in the bus.  Legs splayed one 
against the back of the bench seat, the  other dangling to the side, my foot 
resting on the cool dirty floor.  The  skirt pulled, bunched up around my 
waist.  Then my belly exposed leading to  the barely noticeable round flat 
pancakes of my breasts.  The nipples  sticking straight into the air.  The 
cold air keeping them hard, and the  fingers pulling on them, causing pain and 
pleasure as they touch the oh so  sensitive tissue.  The nipples so often in 
my past, in my youth, causing me  to climax as a boy touched or sucked on 
them.  They were so often the core  of my body.  The boys shocked and scared 
as my hips would rock, thighs  squeezing, my moans quite audible as my whole 
lower body quivered with  release.  Thinking to myself as I lay helpless 
and cold on the old vinyl  covering of the seat, how these boys, curious and 
inexperienced as they are,  have not even once touched the still partially 
hidden pearl of my  clit.
    Groaning as I feel the black cocked  boy, shooting his jism into my 
slick scummy cunt.  My hips raising to meet  his cock as I feel him pull out of 
the skanky opening.  I would be an  endless night if the boys for the most 
part had some stamina; but a few strokes  and a discharge of semen and 
another took his place.  Not even able to  count the number of boys or the number 
of the short fucks by them.  Laying  in a coating of sticky cum as the 
boys, not waiting to fuck my hole, or maybe  afraid to, just jerk their cocks 
and spew the thin and thick milky cum onto my  body.  My face and chest and 
lower body layered with globs and splatters of  cum.
    My panties wet with cum and my tears,  blinded as the boys finish with 
my body.  Laying slackly on the seat.   No more resistance.  The boys 
milling around in the back of the bus for a  few minutes.  Hearing them laughing 
nervously.  Then through my  blindfold, seeing flashes of light illuminating 
the cloth for a brief  second.  "She will love this."  "What are you doing?" 
 I am going  to send these pictures to everyone on her email and in her 
address book."   The laughter louder and more nervous.  "Send them to a site 
that we can  look them up."  Writhing obscenely, trying to close my legs as I 
hear their  words.  Hands holding them apart, as more clicks and flashes.  
"She is  one nasty looking old bitch."  "Damn, that pussy is really nasty 
looking  with all the cum oozing out.  Take a close up of that!"
    "I like a little hair on my  pussies."  "Yeah, sure, this is the first 
one you ever saw queerboy."   The jibs going back and forth as the boys look 
down on their handwork.  She  has no tits; but those nipples are so fucking 
big."  "If I could get it up  for the fifth time, I would fuck her ass and 
wipe if off in her mouth."   Squirming on the seat as I listen to the 
comments, my chest raising and falling  in long hard movements as I wait.  
"Please, please let me go."  The  words pathetic as I beg the boys to leave me 
alone, to let me free.  My  lips sticky and caked with filth from the spewing 
cocks.  Tongue wetly  working on my dry lips.
    "I got an idea, everyone done with  this old cunt?"  A round of assents 
answering her question.  Counting  them in my head, there has to be at 
least eight boys in this group.   Waiting for this to end, praying to a god I 
have forsaken long ago.   Hearing the boys whispering and again the nervous 
laughter.  "Everybody  ready?"  A couple of assents and I assume nodding of 
their heads.   "One, two, three.......pee."  A round of laughter again and 
then the warm  wet wash of piss drenching my body.  The boys waving their small 
hoses  around, coating my body with the wet wash of urine.  Cursing to 
themselves  as their piss covers me and there feet, running down the seat to the 
 floor.  The confined space of the back of the bus, not conducive for a  
water sport contest.  My body twisting from side to side as the deluge of  
water splashes against my naked and semi naked flesh  Gurgling as I taste  the 
acrid urine wetting my lips.  In spite of the cold weather, my face  
flushing a bright red with humiliation, as the streams of steaming piss cover my  
face and body with a warm wetness that quickly turns cold.  "Lets  go."  
Hearing the sounds of zippers and shuffling of feet as the boys move  down the 
aisle to the front of the bus.
    Chest heaving in deep sobs as I lie  on my back in the empty bus.  The 
wetness of the urine now chilling my body  as I shift with puddles of mixed 
fluids underneath me.  After long seconds  of stillness, moving weakly, 
pushing my upper body upright, legs sliding till my  bare feet touch the cold 
metal floor.  My body sticky with spent cum, hair  plastered to my head, with 
the smell of urine strong in my nostrils.  The  darkness so intense as I 
feel the wet torn panties plastered to my eyes.   Hands struggling behind me, 
trying to free my wrists from the bonds of the  wrapped tights.  My fingers 
numb with the tightness of the binding and the  cold of the bus.  Cursing as 
I struggle against the tights, feeling them  loosening  as I continue to 
pull with my aching shoulders.  The  material finally loosening enough to let 
me slip one hand free then  another.  Reaching quickly to my face, pulling 
the panties from my eyes,  the dull light in the back of the bus from the 
reflected snow, not telling me  much, other then I can see no shadows lurking in 
the seat running to the  front.  Feeling the puddle of moisture soaking my 
wool skirt as I sit  motionless in the gloom.  Finally collecting my 
thoughts, and pulling my  blouse together, the thin material covering my proudly 
aching nipples, causing a  shiver of pleasure in the raised nerve endings.  
Buttoning the couple of  buttons still remaining.  Then pulling my vest 
closed, the buttons still  usable on that.  The cold of the bus seeping into my 
body as I numbly, pull  my remaining clothes around me,  The skirt wet and 
skanky, smelling of wet  wool, piss and cum.  Crusted blots of cum on the 
tartan  pattern. 
    Taking my wet tights and daubing and  then rubbing harder between my 
legs.  Feeling the semen leaking from the  swollen bruised labia.  Groaning as 
the material swipes away a layer of boy  seed, then waiting and daubing 
away more that is oozing from my pussy.   Leaning back against the seat, 
shivering as the chill moves from back to  front.  Touching my jaw, where one of 
the boys had punched me.  Then  reaching down to my breast and touching the 
small shallow slit from the knife or  blade.  A dried scab forming over the 
small wound.  Hands shaking with  relief and fear and terror still.  Finally 
looking around and seeing a glow  in the seat in front of me.  Picking up my 
cell phone.  Seeing the  image still displayed on the small screen.  The 
closeup of my pussy, a  puddle of sperm forming between my legs, more leaking 
from my slightly gapping  cunt.  Closing my eyes, the image imbedded in my 
mind.  Trying to  think if I can undo the sending of this pictures and the 
others.  My  shoulders slumping as my mind enumerates the names of the people 
in my email and  address book.  Family, friends, co-workers, businesses that 
I deal with,  and former boy friends and neighbors.  The endless line of 
names, phone  numbers and addresses listed.
    Checking my shoulder purse and not  finding anything missing from it.  
Fingers working feverishly over the  buttons of the cell phone.  Not seeing 
where any pictures were sent through  my address book.   Not sure whether it 
is true; but too weary to try  to think.  Pushing myself from the seat, 
feet damp as I slide them into the  flats. and walking  sorely down the aisle 
of the bus.  Shoulders stiff  and aching, the bruised lips between my legs 
swollen and sore.  Feeling the  partially dry sticky cum stretching on my skin 
as I move.  Hearing a wet  squishing of my pussy lips as more cum oozes and 
lubricates the abused  tissue.  Finally reaching the front of the bus.  
pulling the lever to  close and lock the door.  Then taking my cleaning 
supplies and walking  wearily to the back of the bus. Using my panties and tights 
and finally my  blouse to sop up the standing puddles of urine.  Swabbing the 
wipes over  the surface of vinyl on the seats and then the floor. 
     On hands and knees, cleaning  the old school bus of the signs of the 
gang rape by a group of teenage  boys.  Reaching between my legs as I work, 
scooping another thick glob of  cum from between my labia.  Reaching to wipe 
my hand on the already soaking  blouse, but instead bringing the fingers to 
my face.  Inhaling and smelling  the strong scent of cum the boys and a 
lighter scent of my juices.  Tongue  tip reaching out and tasting the goo, then 
licking harder, cleaning my fingers  of the white seed.  Moaning as my legs 
tense, thighs tightening around the  fat pussy lips. Brushing my arm across 
my nipples feeling them aching under the  vest.  Shivering from the cold of 
my abbreviated outfit and from the heat  boiling in my loins.  My fingers 
sliding down and rubbing against my folds,  finding the small round nub of my 
clitoris and massaging it hard with the wool  of my skirt.  Moaning 
helplessly as I my hips push up to my fingers, the spasm of release shaking my body 
and a deep throated animal sound of pleasure  escaping my lips.&  Leaning 
weakly against the seat as I collect  myself.  Not wanting to analyze what 
just happened and why.  Sitting  down on the cold floor and crying.  Feeling 
the warm tears sliding down my  cheeks and cooling as they drip unto my chest.
    The tears stopping and finished with  feeling sorry for myself.  
Cleaning up the papers on the bus as if it was a  continuation of what I had 
started hours ago or was it an hour.  Time has  stood still.  Throwing my cold 
but dry poncho over my head,  arms screaming with pain.  Then with my bag of 
debris and sopping  clothing walking into the whiteness of the parking lot.  
Coming to the  gate, after depositing the garbage in the dumpster.  Then 
leaning against  the gate, crying unabatedly as I find the chain pulled through 
and the padlock  secured.  Head battering against the chain links as I 
realize the night is  not yet over.
    Feeling the flakes of pristine snow  wetting my face, as I pull my cell 
phone from my shoulder bag and dial  Susan. 
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