
Message-ID: <56576asstr$1189465801@assm.asstr.org>
From: amanda.brown46@btinternet.com
Subject: {ASSM} Alice's Gangbang
Lines: 462
Date: Mon, 10 Sep 2007 19:10:01 -0400
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===================


It was more than three months since Joe had been gone. In fact, as I was
about to discover although I hadn't worked it out for myself, it was exactly
one hundred days. The pain and numbness had begun to wear away, to be
replaced by something else. Not to put too fine a point on it, the something
else was desire. My libido was returning. I wanted love, romance, a man to
hold me tight and care for me, kiss me, stroke me into warmth. To be frank,
I knew I was unlikely to get that. And, if I couldn't have love, I'd settle
for sex. And, if I couldn't have it with a man, I'd have it with myself.

I'd lain awake long into the previous night, fighting the overwhelming urge
to masturbate. Today I was utterly washed out. I sat at the checkout in a
dream, hardly recognizing the customers even though I'd known them all my
life. You don't get many new faces in a town like this.

I knew I was going to want to masturbate again tonight. This time, I wasn't
going to fight it.

A shadow fell across me. I looked up. Nolan Katzberger was coming between me
and the light. Nolan is six foot four, two hundred and forty pounds and a
logger. If you know anything about logging towns, that gives you the
complete picture. Eight days in camp, not a woman in sight and strictly no
alcohol. Back into town for four days whooping it up. Then the camp again.

He swung his basket onto my station. Four six packs. As I checked them
through, he lifted each in one of his massive hands. You could heft a
fair-sized tree trunk in one of Nolan's hands. He grinned at me. 'How ya
doin' Alice?'

I nodded. 'I'm doing okay, Nolan.'

'Ya know, I doubt that. I doubt you're doin' okay, Alice. Not in the things
that really matter to a woman.'

I rang through the last sixpack and held out my hand for his money. 'You'd
know what really matters to a woman, would you, Nolan?'

'When her husband's gone and not comin' back for a long time? Yup. I guess
I'd know what'd really matter to a woman in that position. You can go and
see him but they won't let you get your hands on him through the bars, now
will they? Young woman your age, prime of life, I don't reckon she'd be
feelin' okay with the world.'

'Forty ain't the prime of life, Nolan. In Hollywood, maybe. Not when you're
working a checkout in this place.'

He leaned closer. 'You look pretty good to me, honey. An' it's gonna be
twenty-five years, MINIMUM, before they let Joe out. Maybe I'll come round
your place tonight. Give you a helping hand.' He leered at me.

My face must have been bright red. I could feel it burning. 'No, thank you,
Nolan.'

'Bring some of the guys round? Make a party of it?'

'I said, no, thank you, Nolan.'

'Aww. I think you're just playing hard to get. See ya later, maybe.' He took
his change and swaggered out. Old Mavis Swann was next in line and she gave
me a very strange look.

My shift ended at three. I got in the beat up old Chevy and drove home,
muffler blowing all the way. I tried to rid my mind of the picture of a
gangbang with Nolan and his friends. A gangbang is rape. It's men forcing
themselves on a woman because they're bigger and stronger and the woman
can't stop them taking what they want. It should have been the most
terrifying thing I could have imagined. So why was my heart beating so fast?


Of course, I knew Nolan had been kidding. He'd be in Duke's tonight, same as
every night he was in town. There wasn't enough drinking time for Nolan to
want to waste any with a woman. Still, now I had the dream I was going to
masturbate to.

The house I shared with Joe is outside town a ways, down a dirt road and
hidden by trees. Joe liked it that way. It helped him keep what he was doing
private. Or so he thought. Didn't stop the police catching up with him,
though. I parked in the yard, got out and went into the kitchen. There
wasn't a soul there to say "Hi". I thought, as I often had in the past three
months, that I must get a dog or a cat. Somebody to think I was important,
feel sad when I went away in the morning, be pleased when I came home again.

I got under the shower. The temptation to beat off, right there under the
warm water, was almost unbearable. I resisted it. Shower, sit on the porch
with a beer and my first cigarette of the day, have supper. THEN I'd take my
clothes off, get into bed and be kind to myself.

It was warm, even for August, and I'd just spent six hours in a plastic
coverall. I changed into loose cotton. Cotton everything. Then I went out of
the bedroom and into the kitchen, looking for my beer.

And found them sitting there. Five of them. Grinning at me.

Oh, Jeez. The gap between a fantasy to rub your clit to and the real thing,
sitting there in your kitchen. My heart was going like a jackhammer. I felt
sick in the pit of my stomach. And fear. I felt fear. I opened my mouth to
speak, but nothing came out.

'Surprise!' Nolan was smoking. They were all smoking. And looking at me as
if I were the entertainment.

I found my voice. 'I'd like you all to leave, please. Now. Before I call the
police.'

Nolan said, 'Go ahead, honey. Call them.'

I reached for the handset in the place where it always was. The sick feeling
in my stomach got deeper. 'Where's the phone?'

Nolan looked around at his five buddies. I knew every one of them. Or so I'd
thought. 'Anyone seen Alice's phone?' he asked. Heads shook. Grinning heads.

'Look, Nolan,' I started, but he wasn't listening. He stood up and stubbed
out his cigarette. 'Get her on the table.'

Now I knew why he'd brought four buddies. A woman has four corners. Four
corners, four captors. One for each arm, one for each leg. They lifted me
up, swung me over the table and laid me down. Gently, not roughly. Smiling
down at me. As though we were all enjoying ourselves. They didn't let go. I
have never felt so utterly helpless.

Nolan was standing over me the way he had at the checkout. He was smiling at
me. His hand came down on my knee and started sliding up my thigh. 'Nolan,'
I said, 'don't do this.'

The hand went on moving. My head was twisting right and left and I was
pulling for all I was worth against the hands holding me down but...well.
There were four of them. All loggers. All tough and strong as oxes.

'Nolan, please. PLEASE, Nolan!' His fingertips were right up high on my
thigh, touching me where the skin is soft and smooth. 'Oh, God, Nolan,
please. There's still time to stop, Nolan. Nolan, PLEASE don't.'

He took his hand away. I breathed out in relief, but too soon. He took my
cotton skirt and raised it to my waist. 'Holy shit' said one of his buddies.
Jake Barrard it was. We'd been in school together. Jake had married Theresa
Osovsky who'd been my best friend back then and I'd been her bridesmaid.
They were still together, with three children. He said, 'Get her panties
off, Nolan.' He was laughing.

Nolan's hand went back to the top of my thigh. His thumb moved to touch the
lacy edge of my panties. He started to trace the lace around, taking his
time. I was still babbling at him to stop, please, please, PLEASE stop, but
I think I knew that wasn't going to happen. I only had to look at their eyes
to know they were going through with this.

Nolan's finger pressed hard into my panties where they covered me. Covered
the bit of me they all wanted. He laughed. 'You little tramp! She's wet,
boys. She's loving it.'

'No,' I gabbled, 'no, no, please, Nolan, please don't do this,' but he had
hold of my panties and was trying to get them down. I resisted with
everything I had, pressing my ass down onto the table, but it was useless. I
could no more stop a runaway semi on the highway by jumping in front of it
than keep Nolan Katzberger from doing what he meant to do.

He held my panties to his nose. 'You little slut,' he murmured. I hated the
approval in his voice. How could he possibly think I wanted this, was
enjoying it? He offered the panties to the others and they all sniffed,
whooping and laughing. I felt like the worst kind of lowlife tramp.

Suddenly he took his hand away. 'Let's find the bedroom.' He set off looking
and the other four picked me up, the same way they had when they'd put me on
the table, one at each corner, and we followed Nolan.

They dropped me on the bed and held me down. Nolan was undressing. 'Strip
her,' he said. And so they did, twisting me this way and that so they could
undo snaps and clips until I was completely naked. Nolan knelt over me. I
was suddenly filled with calm. 'Nolan,' I said. 'There's still time to stop
this. You can all go away and I won't say a word to anyone. Please, Nolan.'

He smiled. When he smiled it was like watching a happy little boy whose just
been given a present he's longed for and thought he'd never get. Then he
kissed me, gently. His lips were warm and soft and his tongue pressed into
my mouth. I didn't resist. What would have been the point? While he kissed
me he took one of my breasts in his hand. 'Remember the junior prom, Alice?'

Eh? No. Should I?

'I asked you to be my date. You said no. You went with Jason Kermody. A nice
boy from the right side of the tracks. Like you. But Jason's gone, Alice.
Jason's leading a nice corporate life with his nice smart wife and his nice
smart kids in some town with a future. And you married Joe, and you're stuck
here. What went wrong, Alice?'

All the time he said this, he'd been gently kneading my breast. 'Joe's a
lowlife, Alice. Your parents cut you off when you married him, didn't they?
I'd have been better for you than Joe, Alice. And I've wanted you. Ever
since junior prom. I've watched you and I've wanted you.'

I lay still as his hand moved down across my stomach. 'I'm sorry, Nolan. I
didn't know. I had no idea.'

His huge hand lay for a moment on the top of my thigh. Then his thumb
pressed against me, asking for entrance. All the fear had left me. I was
embarrassed as hell, but I no longer thought they'd hurt me, or kill me. I
moved my thighs to let his thumb come into me.

It was a big thumb and it knew what it was doing. Very soon I was breathing
heavily. Very soon my hips were moving. Very soon I was crying out. The
others let go of me. They knew I wasn't fighting them any more. I threw my
arms around Nolan's immense shoulders and dragged him down to bury my
scarlet face in his throat as I lost all control. I held up my lips to be
kissed and he obliged.

I looked down the space between us. Just like the rest of him. Big. I
reached down and wrapped my hand around it. 'You want to put that inside me,
Nolan?'

He nodded.

I pulled him gently upwards, maneuvering him until his warm tip pressed
against my lips. The very place I'd been planning to rub with my fingers.
Even with four people watching, this was better than fingers. I rubbed my
nose against his face. 'Think you can take it from there, baby?'

He nodded again, and slid into me. It wasn't like I expected. That is, it
wasn't "slam, bam, thank you ma'am". It wasn't just Nolan's thumb that knew
what it was doing. When it came to knowing the way around a woman's body,
everything about Nolan was expert. I wrapped my legs around his back and
rocked with him. Every powerful thrust made me grunt. I didn't care. I'd
never been to this place before. I was floating.

And then it came to me that the audience was part of it.

We hide sex. I did, anyway. The same mother who cut me off when I married
Joe had taught me that sex wasn't nice. It was something you did for your
husband, as infrequently as he would let you get away with, and you didn't
expect to enjoy it. You could say it was a generation thing. I'd had good
times with Joe. But if you were my mother's daughter, you learned that some
things take place in private, and you don't talk about them afterwards.

And here I was, stark naked and fucking my brains out in front of four men
who, undoubtedly, were going to want their turn when Nolan and I were
through.

It should have made me suicidal. In fact, it felt great. For once in my
life, I - Alice Murphy, failed daughter, barren wife, checkout slave - was
the centre of attention. And all of it was approving. It was like I was at
the plate in some vital school game and Nolan's hand played gently over my
nipple and his lips plucked at mine as he drove in and out of my joyous
cunt, and "Yeah, baby" and "Go, girl" wafted over me from the bleachers. I
could never have done this in public of my own accord. But I wasn't doing it
of my own accord. I had no choice. And so I could let go and revel in the
sheer exhibitionism of it.

When Nolan came, he took the weight of his body on his elbows instead of
just dropping on top of me the way Joe did. I liked that. It meant he might
be rough and he might be from the wrong side of town but he was a gentleman.
Over the years, I'd learned something I don't think my mother ever knew. It
isn't money or breeding or education that makes a man a gentleman. It's what
he has inside him.

He kissed me, long and tenderly. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed me
back. 'You're a hero,' I said. 'A fucking hero.'

Then he rolled away from me and stood up. And, as soon as he did, Jake
Barrard came into view. Jake was as naked as Nolan had been. As naked as I
was.

If this was just a story I was writing here, I'd have a different ending.
Jake, or one of the others, would say, "Jeez, Nolan. I never knew you felt
like that about Alice. That was beautiful. That was like a religious
experience, man. That was like being in church." And they'd keep their
clothes on, tiptoe away, let themselves out and drive off to Duke's. Where,
of course, they would tell no-one what they'd just witnessed. And Nolan
would stay here with me, and we'd have something to eat, maybe send out for
a pizza, drink some beer, and then we'd go back to bed and lie there the
whole night through. And before we went to sleep, Nolan would make love to
me. And, in the morning, before I got up to go to work, he'd do it again.
And I'd go through the whole day knowing he was waiting at home for me. And
I'd never need to even think about masturbating ever again.

That's what I'd write if this was just a story.

But this isn't just a story. This is an account of what happened that night.
I read somewhere that some writer said, if you're going to tell the story,
you have to have respect for the truth. And I reckon that's right.

So what I've written there about religious experiences and being in church,
that isn't what actually happened. What happened was that they fucked me.
All of them.

Jake hooked my legs over his shoulders, bent my legs right back so I was
almost screaming with the pain and rode me. There isn't any other word for
it. If this had been the Fuck Rodeo, Jake would have had the gold cup. He
just went right at it till he came and then he rolled off without a word,
stood up and started to dress.

Barry Gombold was more gentle. He made it last, too, but he didn't even
start to rouse me the way Nolan had. It wasn't good, wasn't bad, just going
in and out hard with no finesse, no kisses, no gentle manipulation of tender
nips. Just a fuck. A sex act like most sex acts that go on between most men
and most women every day of the week. I lay back and let him do his thing
till he shot his load into the same place as Nolan and Jake had already left
theirs. It occurred to me that it must be getting like the inside of a
bill-poster's bucket down there and I wasn't surprised that no-one attempted
to go down on me.

I'm not going through the whole thing man by man. They fucked me, every one.
They didn't try to hurt me, they treated me like a good sport, but every one
of them did it to me. And then they left.

Nolan stood by the bed before they went, looking down at me. I couldn't read
the expression on his face. Contempt I could have understood, but it wasn't
that. Understanding? Sympathy? Desire? Love would be too much to hope for.
'I'm sorry about the junior prom,' I said.

He nodded.

'It was my mistake,' I went on. I knew what I wanted, but asking for it
would take courage. My voice was small. Timid. 'Do you want to stay? Let the
others go without you? Send out for a pizza? Have a beer or two? Spend the
night together?'

He shook his head. 'No, honey. Thanks, but no.'

'Okay.'

I lay where I was for quite a long time. Then I got up, pulled the stained
sheets off the bed and hauled them to the old Bendix. I'd wash them on
Sunday. I replaced them with fresh sheets from the closet.

Then I took my second shower of the evening. I didn't feel like masturbating
now. There was absolutely no need.

I put on a cotton robe and slipped a pack of Low Tar and a lighter into the
pocket. I went into the kitchen, made myself a sandwich and carried it onto
the porch with a beer. I sat there for a long time as the light faded and
the darkness came in. Not thinking about anything much. Just sitting there,
smoking. The dark doesn't frighten me. I feel at home in the dark. It's sort
of cherishing. Protective.

I smoked six cigarettes in the time I was out there. Six is a lot for me. It
was beginning to cool and I was thinking about bed when I saw lights on the
dirt road. When they turned past the last of the trees I recognized the
pickup. Strangely, the only thought I can remember having is that I'd
changed the sheets for nothing. They'd come back for seconds and the clean
ones would end up in the same condition as the last lot. And did I even have
another set ready to put on?

But only one man got out of the pickup.

He raised two take-out pizza boxes, one in each immense hand. 'I don't know
whether you like anchovies,' he said. 'So I got one of each.'

'With or without,' I said. 'It's all one to me.'

We ate the pizzas in the kitchen. We drank a couple beers, smoked some
cigarettes. It felt good. Companionable. I stroked his forearm. It made my
hand look tiny and it was as hard as a board. He said, 'I suppose you're
wondering why I let them all have you?'

I waited.

'What do they call that thing,' he asked, 'where you're obsessed with
someone but you can't stand to think about them?'

'I don't know, Nolan. Love-hate relationship, maybe?'

'No. That's not it. I never hated you.'

I noticed he didn't say he'd never loved me. I began to feel a tingling in a
place I'd have thought had had enough done to it to be satisfied for a
month.

'I thought if I fucked you and then I watched them fucking you, I'd be over
you. I'm not.'

'Oh. Is that good or bad?'

'That depends on you.'

'How's that, honey?'

'I'm forty, Alice, and I've never had a steady relationship.'

'Some men can't handle one.'

'Yeah. Sure. And some men fall in love once in their lives and, if they
can't have her, they don't want anyone else.'

'The junior prom was a long time ago, Nolan.'

'I guess that shows how hard I fell for you, Alice. Now I'm here, and you're
here, and this looks like my chance.'

'What do you want from me, Nolan?'

'I want to know what my chances are. I want to cherish you and love you and
take care of you. I want to stay, and be your man. I want you to divorce Joe
and marry me. That's what I want.'

'That's a lot for a girl to think about, Nolan. Coming out of the blue like
this. Why don't you stay the night and I'll give you my answer in the
morning?'

'Okay.'

The love-making we had that night was as tender as anything I've ever known.
He stroked me until I was almost screaming with lust, his huge hand gentle
on the insides of my thighs. This time he did go down on me and I had a
shattering orgasm just from the insistent pressure of his lips and tongue
and teeth on my inflamed little nubbin. Then I pretended to drift off to
sleep, and he actually did.

When I was sure he was really sleeping, I crept to the drawer where Joe kept
what he always called his special items. I took out the cuffs he'd used that
time he'd tied me down and paddled my ass. Before he reamed it for me. They
were covered in fur and the carton had called them "silken restraints", but
inside the fur was steel. Steel handcuffs. There'd been no way I was getting
up till Joe had had enough of what he wanted. I'd made sure he never used
them on me again.

Getting the first one on Nolan and fixing it to the bed was child's play
once I'd opened the cuff to the maximum so it would go round his monstrous
wrist. For the other, I had to wait. I fixed one end to the bed and left the
other opened. It took half an hour before Nolan rolled over in his sleep,
stretching out his free arm towards the far side of the bed. Where his
subconscious told him I'd be, most likely. Just lying there and waiting like
a Stepford Wife for his sweet attentions. The tugging from the cuff started
to wake him, but it was too late. I'd already snapped the other one on to
his wrist and closed it.

Poor Nolan. He tried everything to rip himself free, and I thought for a
moment the bed might not stand the strain, but it was a strong old bed and
it held. I sat on the side of it and smoked a cigarette while I watched him.
He talked to me, but I can't tell you what he said. I wasn't listening.

Then I went into the garage and got a tree lopper. I went back into the
bedroom and sucked Nolan's cock. When it was good and hard, I cut it off and
stuck it in his mouth.

I had to sleep on the porch that night. I'd have liked to get into bed
beside Nolan, because to tell you the truth the emotional turmoil had left
me exhausted, but his screaming would have kept me awake. It must have
stopped at some point, because when I woke and went to get dressed he was
dead. Loss of blood or choking on his dick, I couldn't say.

I spent Joe's nest egg that I wasn't supposed to know about on the best
lawyer I could get. It was a good investment. Justifiable homicide while I
was out of my mind as a result of gang rape. I got probation, and it's over
now. The rapists got jail time. They're still in there. I guess they talk to
Joe sometimes about what they did to his crazy wife. Or maybe they don't.
Who understands men?

Theresa divorced Jake right after the trial and left town, but I'm still
here. Masturbation is all I have left to me now. Occasionally I see a man
who could press my buttons, but everyone here knows what I did. There ain't
no man going to put himself at my mercy while he's sleeping.

You can't account for what some women will do. Probably there are women who
will allow themselves to be gang raped and then forgive the ringleader and
take him into their lives and their beds because he says he loves them.
Probably there are.

But I'm not one of them.


Copyright Amanda Brown 2007

Comments to: amanda.brown46@btinternet.com

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