Heather Brown

The rape girls

CHAPTER ONE

Kimberly Marchand, her tits and ass swaying seductively, walked quickly down the street. Her car was parked a few hundred yards away and once she was in it and driving she would feel relatively safe. But, now she felt apprehensive.

That was the thing about being a nurse, Kimberly thought, the hours were terrible. Working the night shift at the hospital, as she had to do every three months, threw everything out of kilter for her, and, what's more, exposed her to walking alone in the middle of the night.

Her career as a registered nurse had promised so much in the beginning – the chance to help other people, working with famous doctors, some of whom she had hoped would be eligible for marriage. Now, as she was starting to push 30, Kimberly found herself getting tired of the whole thing.

The thing which depressed Kimberly most, however, was the doctors. When she had gone into nursing, she had always assumed that she might become romantically involved with a doctor or two. As it had turned out, Kimberly had become involved with a doctor – Dr. Jim Spencer, a surgeon, and marriage was a very important consideration in the relationship. Unfortunately, marriage entered into the situation because Jim already had a wife – and three children – and despite frequently promising Kimberly he was going to ask for a divorce, after two years of seeing her secretly he was still as married as ever.

Kimberly had just finished a scene with Jim before she had left the hospital. After surgery, Jim had hustled her into the privacy of the pharmacy and had started running his hands over her body through the thin fabric of her nurse's uniform, caressing her tits and kneading her nipples through the material. Jim had felt her up like this many times during working hours, and they had fucked more times than she could remember in various out-of-the-way places of the hospital. But tonight Kimberly wasn't having any.

As Jim pawed her tits, Kimberly felt repelled by his hands. She pushed Jim away and told him she was going home, leaving him open-mouthed as she stalked out of the pharmacy.

Kimberly felt a wave of relief pass through her as she sighted her car. She would go home and fix herself a stiff drink, she decided, and then get into a hot tub. "Maybe things will be better tomorrow," she said to herself as she leaned over to unlock the door to her car.

As she inserted the key into the door of her car, suddenly her breath was cut off by some powerful force slamming against her windpipe. She started to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle as she fought to breathe. Then she was painfully straightened up as her neck was yanked back and a knee shoved painfully into the small of her back, arching her spine painfully.

"Okay, baby," a voice growled. "Is this gonna be easy for both of us, or are you gonna tight me? Believe me, one way or the other, I'm gonna enjoy it."

Kimberly's assailant relaxed his grip around her neck enough so that she could reply. She started to say, "What's this all about," and then abruptly realized all too well what was going on.

"You're going to rape me, aren't you?" she asked incredulously. She had known the streets at night were dangerous and that any woman who walked alone on them ran the risk of being raped, but now that it was happening to her, she couldn't bring herself to accept it. "Please… please… don't," she pleaded.

"Please what?" he chuckled. "Please let you go, or please fuck you?"

"Please let me go, please let me go," she begged.

"Sure, baby," he said. "After, of course, I've rammed my cock into your mouth and come all over your face."

He spun her around, and as Kimberly turned to face him, he clipped her on the jaw with a right hand. The blow made her woozy enough so she couldn't fight back. He pushed her to the ground, the cement of the sidewalk scraping her elbows. Looming above her, he loosened his pants and let them drop, revealing an enormous shaft of a cock which emerged in a throbbing column from a clump of dark curly hair. He fondled his cock as he hovered over her, his prick seeming to grow even bigger, if possible, under his ministration.

Kimberly lay helpless on her back. She was so weak and terrified that the only defense she could think of was to draw her legs together. But it did no good. He separated her legs with a kick to her knees, splaying them apart and sending her dress up to her hips.

Kimberly moaned in agony and fear as she lay back with her legs parted. Her white nurse's stockings went up to her thighs which were bare and pulsating above the top of the hose. Her crotch was covered only by the thin fabric of her panties, and she could feel the mouth of her cunt straining against the flimsy covering. Although still conscious, she seemed to lose all voluntary control of her body, and her cunt became damp with hot, moist, sticky liquid, drenching her panties and running onto her inner thighs.

As she stared transfixed at the enormous cock pulsating threateningly above her, her nipples, as though they had minds of their own, became erect and chafed against her bra.

The assailant moved toward her. He leaned over and grabbed the hem of her nurse's uniform and roughly tore the garment. He began to work fast. Her tits swelled involuntarily inside the cups of her bra, pushing her erect nipples into the fabric. The attacker grabbed the bra by the elastic between her tits and tore it off. Kimberly's breasts fell free, the night air wafting over her throbbing nipples. His hands roughly squeezed her tits, and then he lowered his head and began wetly lapping them with his tongue.

Despite the ordeal, Kimberly found her sensual reactions coming into play. As her assailant lapped at her tits, she could feel shivers pulse through her body. Now he was down rolling on the ground with her. She felt flames of passion in her breasts and a clenching tightness in her pussy which was accompanied by a flow of sticky warm juice that secreted from the inner depths of her cunt. And then, as his wet lips and tongue bathed her red-hot nipples, Kimberly's attacker slid down between her legs and she could feel his cock rubbing and jabbing against her pussy through the saturated crotch of her panties.

As he continued working on her tits, Kimberly felt his fingers moving urgently beneath the flimsy panty crotch, his knuckles scraping against the drooling lips of her cunt, working their way through the matted, moist pubic hair and pushing against the naked swollen lips of her throbbing pussy. Involuntarily she squeezed her thighs, capturing his probing hand in the inferno of her cunt.

Abruptly his strong fingers encircled the gooey cloth of her panties and ripped them off her writhing body. Now Kimberly's gaping, oozing cunt was exposed.

The assailant lifted his head from her tits and looked down at her, and then at his own twitching cock. He held his hard prick in his hand and guided it between her legs, ramming it into her cunt until she felt his pubic hair rubbing against her pelvis.

Kimberly wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She wanted to shove her attacker off, but her arms were entangled in the nurse's uniform. She tried to inch away from the huge cock fucking inside her cunt, but her efforts only seemed to drive his prick deeper inside her, so deep now that the balls of her assailant were pressed hard against her asshole, her legs now sticking straight up in the air as he fucked her unmercifully.

Suddenly Kimberly felt a sensation that was more than just the hammering cock fucking in her cunt. It was a feeling that started in her pussy, before spreading to other parts of her body. It was the same feeling she had when she was twelve years old when she had first noticed that she was becoming a woman. She had locked herself in her bedroom and had spread her legs and looked at the lips of her cunt in the mirror; the feeling that had occurred when she rubbed the slick lips of her cunt and then the little nubbin at the top of her pussy, which she later learned was called the clitoris. It was the same feeling she'd experienced with Jim on top of her, reveling in one of their clandestine fucks.

"My God," Kimberly moaned. "I'm coming!" The feeling enveloped her, and she wrapped her legs around him and shoved her pelvis against him as hard as she could, clenching her pussy muscles like a vise around the powerful muscle of his stabbing cock.

Then, suddenly, he was pulling his cock out just as she was getting ready for him to explode inside her, imagining the creamy hot sperm coating the walls of her pulsating cunt. Instead, he grabbed his swollen, angry looking prick and thrust it into her face. Her mouth flew open in astonishment, giving him the opportunity to ram the monster cock between her lips and all the way into her throat.

Kimberly gagged and fought for breath as he began grinding away against her face, literally fucking her mouth, his pubic hair scratching against her nose and eyes, his balls banging against her lower lip and chin.

When he came, her mouth couldn't hold his seemingly endless supply of sperm in addition to his huge prick, and as spurt after spurt of cum exploded from his prick, her throat gurgled out the goo from the corners of her mouth. His cum spurts dripped from her chin and spattered onto her tits.

And then it was over. Kimberly's assailant withdrew his spent prick from her bubbling, gurgling mouth and got up and pulled up his pants and disappeared into the night, leaving her lying there, her face sticky with sperm.

CHAPTER TWO

Early that morning Kimberly was discovered by a passing patrol car. The policemen took her back to the hospital. They assumed she was unconscious.

"You suppose she was a good fuck?" one of the cops said to the other one.

"Are you kidding? Did you see that cunt? Before I put her in the patrol car I got a good look at her pussy and it looked hotter than a two-dollar pistol."

Kimberly recalled that as she had been lifted into the patrol car she had felt something groping between her legs, rubbing at the lips of her pussy, and she realized that the policeman had done more than just look.

While she was in the hospital as a patient, Kimberly realized for the first time what it was like to be so helpless and at the mercy of other people. For one thing, when it became known why she was in the hospital, the nurses began treating her peculiarly. It wasn't hard for Kimberly to detect that the nurses attending her felt that if she had been raped she must have asked for it. And then there was the doctor, who, while examining her cunt, said, "Just relax and enjoy it. After all, I'm sure that's what you did while you were being attacked. You can at least cooperate with me as much as you did with a rapist."

By the time she was released from the hospital, Kimberly was disgusted. Prior to being attacked she had been chronically depressed; now, the rape and its aftermath had served to transform her disenchantment into an active antipathy toward many of the people she had to deal with, especially Jim Spencer.

It was only the first night she had been back on duty as a nurse that Jim approached her and said, "I see you're back among the living. I've been horny as hell waiting for you to come back." He gestured down toward his crotch where Kimberly saw the bulge of his swollen prick straining under his fly.

Kimberly couldn't believe his callousness and selfishness. He hadn't even bothered to visit her when she was a patient. "You're a doctor, Jim, I'm sure you can figure out a way to do it."

"Do what?" he asked.

She placed her hand over the bulge in his pants and applied slight pressure. Then, as he beamed, she tightened her fingers as hard as she could and painfully pinched the shaft of his prick against his balls, hissing, "I'm sure you can figure out a way to go fuck yourself!"

She turned around and walked briskly away from him, not bothering to look back.

Days dragged on and Kimberly started to realize that her problems went beyond the rape.

The more Kimberly thought about it, the more she decided that she had to have some outlet for her feelings. That was why one morning she stopped by the newspaper office and put the following ad in the classified section: Rape victim seeks others with similar experience for talk and discussion. Jennifer Kincaid had been in the city six months now and nothing had broken for her. She had come to the city from a small town after graduating from high school, hoping to escape the boredom that had enveloped her in her hometown. As she went from place to place looking in vain for work, Jennifer realized from the disinterest shown to her background and intellect, and the stares her body received, that the only way she was ever going to make a living in the city was to trade on her nubile eighteen-year-old body with its voluptuous-looking breasts, long honey-colored legs, and slim hips.

After a couple of months in the city without work, Jennifer wound up dancing topless and bottomless in a sleazy beer joint called The Blue Room.

There were no two ways about it, The Blue Room was a dive. The clientele was made up of a bunch of drunken truck drivers and motorcyclists whose idea of a good time was to shoot spitballs and paperclips up between her legs while she was dancing in the nude. Every night when she got home from work Jennifer inspected her legs and crotch for marks, and frequently found small bruises and cuts on her inner thighs and groin. The longer she worked at The Blue Room the more disgusted Jennifer became with men in general and their slobbering lust. In order to satisfy her sexual feelings, Jennifer was content to lie in bed with a mirror propped up in front of her. She spread her legs, revealing the parted lips of her cunt peeping out from her curly blonde pubic hair. Placing her hand against the wet lips of her pussy, she would poke her middle finger in and out of her drooling gash, her palm pressing hard against the fleshy mound just above the opening of her cunt.

By undulating her hips she set up a steady rhythm, finger-fucking herself, stretching her pussy lips, the sticky warm goo spilling out between her quivering thighs and onto the bedspread.

She tasted her own steaming discharge. Then, with her eyes riveted to the image of her creaming, open cunt in the mirror, the pubic hair glistening with cuntjuice, Jennifer would begin a full attack on her clitoris with her forefinger, plunging her thumb deeply into her throbbing, clutching pussy.

Orgasm always came soon, a shuddering climax that never failed Jennifer as she bucked her cunt wildly and uncontrollably against her probing, talented fingers. Just as she started to come, she would place the palm of her hand flat against her cunt and tip forward just enough to catch the full load of scalding moisture that cascaded from her pussy. Then she would place the handful of pussy juice to her face and rub it in, licking the sweet fluid as though it were honey. When she was finished, lying relaxed on the bed, her pussy muscles exhausted, she was always sure that no man could satisfy her as well as her fingers.

Thursday night started off badly for Jennifer. The Blue Room was packed with a lot of greasy members of some motorcycle club called Satan's Mothers. The owner of The Blue Room, a little short, fat, bald guy named Harry, was the typo who thought the customer was always right, even if the customer was a sadistic madman bent on maiming one of the dancers, or just a drunk asshole who puked all over somebody's tits.

This night the Satan's Mothers were celebrating the fifth anniversary of their club and had rented The Blue Room for the night. Anybody else who tried to wander in was stopped by a thug in a leather jacket.

"Listen, Jenny," Harry said, using the nickname that Jennifer hated. "We got a special crowd tonight, so I want you should do something special."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked sarcastically. "Grow an extra tit?"

"It might not be a bad idea," he said, "but we don't have time for that tonight. These animals are hungry for something right now. If we don't give it to 'em, they'll tear this place apart." The idea of The Blue Room being destroyed had a certain appeal to Jennifer. However, on the other hand, she realized that with its demise would go her sole means of support. Finally, she said to Harry, "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to invite one of those guys up on stage."

"Yeah?" she said, waiting with equal parts of loathing and astonishment as to what Harry was going to say next.

"Well… uh… I want you to…" Harry stammered, nonplussed for the first time since Jennifer had known him.

"Listen, Harry," she said, "do you want me to make it with some guy on stage?"

"No, no," he said. "You don't have to go that far, you don't actually have to fuck him."

"Well, then, what do I have to do?"

"Just jive around a little with him. Let him take his pants off and flash himself around some. The audience'll love it."

"Besides the fact that the idea makes me want to puke, Harry," she said, "which I'm sure makes absolutely no difference to you, what makes you think you can get away with having somebody up on stage like that? After all, what if the vice squad walks in, we'll all be…"

"No, no, don't worry about that," he interrupted. "We can get away with it. This is a private party. They can do anything they want, within reason."

"Gee, Harry, you mean having some guy actually fuck me on stage is even too much for you?"

"No, of course not," he replied. "As a matter of fact, I'd be all for it if this was a bunch of accountants or something. But with these animals, they wouldn't stop with just one guy. They'd look at that one guy up there sticking it in you, and the next thing you'd know they'd all want to try it. The next thing you'd know they'd be storming the stage to gang-bang you and there'd be a riot, and private party or not, I'd get busted."

"What about me?" Jennifer said. "Aren't you worried about what would happen to me?"

"Dancers are always easy to get," he said coolly. "Now get up there and follow orders."

Jennifer took off her wrap and walked up onto the stage. The juke box blasted constantly.

Jennifer started dancing, undulating her hips and thrusting her pelvis forward in rhythm with the beat. The crowd slobbered at her.

Jennifer tried to forget about them and concentrate on dancing. She was proud of her body. She looked down and saw her firm tits bobbing tautly as her body shook and swayed. Regardless of the crowd, the dancing itself was a sensual experience for Jennifer, and frequently she became so carried away with it that, when she got back to her dressing room, she would discover that her pussy was drenched and that she had actually come while she was on stage.

Immediately after she started dancing, Jennifer was in a world of her own. She forgot about Harry's command to summon a member of the audience onto the stage. However, in the middle of the second record she was rudely reminded of it when Harry jumped up on stage and pulled out the plug of the juke box.

"All right," he called to the audience, pushing her over to one side and gesturing toward her as if she were an exhibit in a freak show, "who'd like to volunteer to get up here on stage with the little lady."

The crowd's slobbering turned to growls and moans. Then, they all seemed to focus their eyes on a short guy almost dwarfed by a leather jacket that was too big for him. He was virtually lifted out of his seat and pushed up onto the stage.

Harry plugged in the jukebox again. Music filled die room, a primitive beat resonating throughout the bar.

Jennifer closed her eyes in an attempt to suppress the image of her partner and his noisy cohorts in the audience from her consciousness. She began moving and shaking her hips in time with the music, trying to lose herself in its rhythm. As she danced, the tension seemed to drain out of her, and by the time the next record had started she was only aware of her own body. Her tits bounced as her nipples erected, and the warmth and tightening between her legs spanned the distance from her navel to her moist crotch, then up and around to her puckering asshole. Then, for some reason, she made the mistake of opening her eyes and was thrown back into reality.

Her partner had removed his pants and was now sidling up to her with an enormous prick in his hilt hand that seemed to be almost as big as he was.

Jennifer's eyes bugged out as she looked at the leering cock coming at her, the shaft a deadly torpedo, and the hairy balls looking like bludgeons. The crowd screamed.

"Jump her, Weasel!"

"Knock her down and stick it in her!"

"Fuck the shit out of her!"

Suddenly everything about The Blue Room became totally oppressive to Jennifer. The noise became unbearable. Jennifer's senses reeled and she became dizzy. What had been just one monster prick menacing her now seemed to be two, and then three, all of them identical and enormous. As she started to slide away from reality, Jennifer imagined all three cocks in her at once, stretching her cunt into an enormous chasm and causing her pussy to overflow with a flood of gurgling, steaming cum. And then in her fantasy their pricks attacked her asshole, fighting with one another, rubbing and bumping against each other's pink shafts and fiery red prickheads, to plunge into the little orifice. With ghostlike visions of being split in two from the cocks she saw dancing before her, Jennifer slipped to the floor and fainted.

The moistness and stickiness of semen was what made her come to. She licked her tongue over her upper lip and immediately tasted the acrid slime – and it was fresh, hot sperm. Opening her eyes widely, she saw the motorcyclist straddling her and waving his prick in her face, the end of it drooling with cum.

"My God!" Jennifer shrieked. "You've jacked off in my face."

The crowd roared its approval. Jennifer leaped to her feet and fled from the stage, trying to reach the safety of the dressing room. But the lust-crazed audience blocked all available routes of escape and Jennifer was trapped, with Harry nowhere in sight.

Jennifer tried to light her way into the dressing room, but she was stopped cold by two massive goons who stood with their arms interlocked in front of the door. Naked, before a menacing crowd of slobbering barbarians, Jennifer's nerves abandoned her and she suddenly felt vulnerable and dizzy again. She slumped to her knees before her tormentors. Two husky bikers hoisted her into the air, and followed by the mob, they carried her from the bar, out the back door, and into the alley.