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Roffeless

Part 2



R0FFELESS, Chapter two




The next morning following my apparent gang rape, when I was used and abused by a half dozen horny studs who had pounded my poor little pussy unmercifully... I felt great!   I was elated.  I felt sexually charged and powerful.   I'd fulfilled one of those private little fantasies of women, and completely consequence free.  My reputation was intact, none of them were ever going to say anything. 




I wasn't dating much, so most of my sex life was masturbation.   As a result, I had a lot of fantasies, lots of dirty ones I'd gotten off on.   How many gangbang fantasies had I gotten off to?  I didn't want to say, but more than a few.  Black gangbangs, white gangbangs, prison gangbangs, frat boys, you name it.   Not that I was obsessed with gangbangs, they were just one set of fantasies in the deck of cards.  There were a lot, depending on moods.




I'd had my cake, and eaten it.  Or should I say, had my cocks and ate them.




It was like a real fantasy come to life, with all these visceral touches.  The slightly different smells of the men, the textures of their skin and hair, the dampness and coarse fabric of the mattress.   They'd come in me, and I found I'd really gotten off on that.  Perhaps the danger of disease or pregnancy made it more intense, you know, more risky and exciting.  Or maybe the spontaneity of it.  Or perhaps an exciting degrading quality.  I loved the dirtiness of it, the nastiness that woke my inner skank.




And I'd outsmarted them too.  That was part of it.   I wasn't the victim, I just played one on television.  Behind the horny, mindless, drug addled slut they thought they were fucking, had been a horny, cool, collected, brilliant slut who had actually been fucking them.   Who was really the fucker and who the real fuckee.   They didn't realize it, but they'd been taken.




So, obviously, I was feeling good.




Sure, I'd taken some risks.  It could have gone badly, I could have been beaten or raped or worse.  Or gotten pregnant, or contracted a disease.  But no, I was in the clear. On top.




I suppose it could have ended there.  I could have been the gambler who collected her winnings and sashayed out of the Casino.




But when does that ever happen.




Thought so.




What happened next was that I ran into Colin.




That wasn't terribly remarkable.  It's a big campus, but its still a campus.   There's a few spots, where if you hang out long enough, practically everyone passes by sooner or later.   I sort of hung out at a few of those spots, which was okay, because they were hanging out kind of spots.




It wasn't that I was looking for him, you have to understand.   I mean, he was such a loser.  And he was a sluggo date rapist.  That's not the kind of guy you search for.  But he had been a key agent of a very powerful experience, a wild and triumphant experience, for me.  So, you know how it is, I didn't mind sort of keeping an eye out.




"Oh hi," I said, smiling.  Clear eyed, focused, just the sort of thing he hated in a girl.




"Uh hi," he said, startled.  He wasn't used to girls talking to him.  Much less ones he'd drugged and gang raped.   He was blushing.  He looked trapped, like he just wanted to bolt.




"Do I know you," I asked him.




"Uh... no.... don't think so.  I gotta be goi "




"Colin right?"




Deer caught in the headlights look!




"Uhh...."  




Oh God, I felt like laughing right in his face.  He was so clueless.   Completely stuck for an answer and speechless, he was pathetic.




"Yes," I continued, "Colin!  That's it!   I'm Barb, remember?  We met at that party."




"I guess..."




"I got so shitfaced at that party.  I swear, after a while, I just don't remember a thing.  I don't even remember getting home, I was so drunk."




"Oh well," he said clutching desperately, "you got pretty drunk...   But it wasn't that bad."




"A girlfriend said she saw a couple of guys helping me get home.  One of them sounded like you.  Was it?"




He started to sweat.  Were there witnesses?




"Uhm...  Yeah, sort of, I guess."




I grinned.




"Well thanks," I said and took his hand.  "I'm glad you were there.  I mean, without you, god knows what might have happened to me."




This hand had spread my legs firm powerful grip, fingered my cunt, squeezed my breasts like overripe melons.  It had wrapped its fingers in my hair and yanked my head back as he fucked his cock into my face.   And now, standing in front of a real woman, he was limp and boneless.




I could see he was still processing at half speed.   Oh this guy needed a chip upgrade for sure.




"Your welcome," he stumbled.   "Just... you know... trying to be a nice guy."




A nice guy who tried to drug me and then shared me out to gangbang.  My pussy tightened at the thought, a sudden surge of wetness.




"Well, a lady appreciates a gentleman,"




A fiendish impulse took me, and I pecked him on the cheek, 'accidentally' brushing my breasts against him.  




"Well," I said with as much sunny cheer as I could manufacture, "I gotta run.  Hope to see you around.  Bye."




"Bye," he said.  He was definitely quick on his feet.  Took him hardly any time to think that one up.




I skipped off, barely able to contain rich, uproarious laughter.   Later, with the memories refreshed, I masturbated furiously at home.  There's nothing like playing with fire.  Even if it was just a damp smokey squib like Colin.




I wondered if I'd have to look him up again.  But we ran across each other a couple of times after that, quite naturally...   Well, probably not naturally.  I think a sober girl who talked to him was a once in a lifetime event, and he wanted more.




We went for coffee, became friendly.




Come on, don't you really want to know what the sort of loser who slips girls roofies is really like?  What goes on in his excuse for a brain?   Even just a little curious?




I kind of was.




Turns out, not much.   Colin was sort of a slacker, bit of an underachiever.  He played D&D, had geek friends, wore bad clothes.   He was studying psychology, with an option to go into psychopharmacology.  It was amazing how little there was to him.  How timid and shy and ineffectual he was.  I was the only girl in his circle of friends.   I didn't mind that.  He was so eager to be around, he was like a puppy.  A frightened, obedient, eager to please puppy.




After a while, he introduced me to Ted.




"Have we met before?"  I asked a man whose thick, hard cock had drenched my fertile, helpless cunt with three big loads of sperm.  Whose thickness had made me grunt like a pig.  Whose thrusts had flattened me into the mattress.  




"I don't think so," said Ted.




"You seem familiar," I said, shaking his hand.  It had a good strong grip.  I'd known that grip on my knees, as he'd fucked my face, holding my head viselike as he'd lunged his cock down my ravaged throat.   He seemed shorter and less imposing now that I was not on my back, or my knees, or on all fours.




"I have that kind of face," he joked.   "Familiar.  Everyone thinks they've met me."




"And frame?"  I laughed.  I flashed on the hairy body under his shirt and pants, the thick matts of hair that had coated his thighs and slid against my smooth ass as he'd thrust brutally into me.  The way his hairy stomach and chest had felt on top of me as he'd fucked me in front of everyone.




"I guess," he blushed.  He was definitely nervous, shy that I might have made him for real.  Or maybe it was genuine guilt over facing a woman he'd raped?  How much convincing had Colin done for Trf to meet me.  It wasn't as deliciously funny as my encounter with Colin.  But Tom was nervous and uncomfortable enough, hung up between secrets and guilt, that I still had fun.




After that we were a threesome.   Not a sexual threesome, puh-lease.  No, this was beauty and her two geek pals.  We'd hang out now and then, relax, have a pizza.  Watch a video.   That sort of crap.  They were always good for a boring Tuesday evening when I didn't want to hang out with real friends.




And it was fun, watching them jump around nervously, pretending they'd never fucked me, and at the same time, they clearly, oh so desperately wanted to fuck me again, but they were too chickenshit to make an actual pass.  They were like little eunuchs.  I enjoyed teasing them now and then, 'accidental' little brushes, or peeks of cleavage, or looks at my ass... nothing dramatic.  But I could tell they'd get hard, even though they couldn't admit it.   Once, Colin even had to excuse himself to jerk off in his bathroom, while I pretended I had no idea.   What losers.




So of course they'd try again.




And honestly, what other reason did I really have to bother hanging out with them at all?  I mean, they were so inferior to me, so far beneath me, it wasn't even funny.  There'd been the novelty of what they'd done, but that only took things so far...   As I said, when you get to know a drug rape artist... its not like there's all that much there.




It was over at my place.  They'd brought a DVD and pizza and beer, and we were just hanging out.  It was one of those Tuesday nights that I didn't feel like spending with real friends.   They were so clumsy I actually spotted them slipping it into my beer bottle.   I was watching for it, knew it might come, but still...  Talk about obvious.




No big deal.  I switched away the bottle, replaced it with an uncontaminated one while Ted was in the bathroom and Colin distracted.




My pulse was racing.  I was a little surprised they'd had the guts to try it here, right in my home.




I found I was scared.   I mean, I was alone here with them.  Back at the party, there'd been people all over the place.   All I had to do was shout, or even stand up.  I had been safe, right up to the moment where I decided to spread my legs for all those men, I'd been free to decide to spread my legs for all those men.




But now?  I was a little nervous.   I was alone with them.  There was no one to help if I shouted.  But then, weren't they cowards, I told myself.  If I shouted, if I got angry or really pushed back, they'd freak out and fold up.   They were only doing this drug shit, I reminded myself, because they didn't have the nerve to actually make a real pass at a woman.




So... play along, I thought.   That was what I'd been waiting for, wasn't it?  For Colin to try this again.  To recapture some of that fun, to be on top.  I didn't have to fuck him.  I'd play act, and if it got uncool, well, I'd just show them the door and they'd leave.




Once I settled into role playing, a lot of the nervousness melted away.   There was still a chill pit in the center of my stomach, but it made things exciting, that sense of real danger, of real risk.  Mostly, I focused on playing the part of a girl falling under the influence of roofies.




How fast would it work, I wondered.  I didn't want to ham it up with the symptoms.  That would tip them off.   How do roofies work?  How fast are they?  Am I roofed out enough?   Am I too roofed out?   It's not as easy as you think.




I was taking my cues from them, without trying to be obvious.  I could tell Colin was watching me like a hawk, while doing the whole 'pretending not to watch.'




So, slowly but not too slowly, I just allowed myself to get giggly and vague.




I must have done okay.  Colin excused himself to go to the bathroom, and when he came back, he sat on the couch with me, right next to me.... ever so casual, but watching for me to respond.  I just giggled and settled against him.   His hand shifted to my knee.   Then moved a little up my thigh, parting my legs a little.  But just a little, I was wearing a skirt this time, and the feel of his hand on my stocking clad leg, the edge of his palm pushing up the skirt slightly, was intoxicating and frightening.  I got a little wet, had a few butterflies, though outwardly, I pretended not to notice.




"Hey Ted," he called, "why don't you sit here with us.   Right Barb?"




I giggled and nodded, and soon Ted's weight settled on the couch on the other side of me, leaving me wedged between the two men.   I could feel the heat of their bodies on either side of me.  The shapes of their hips.   It was intimidating, but also exciting to be between two malenesses.  I had to fight an impulse to grab their crotches possessively.




Colin was talking to me steadily, making small talk.  Asking questions.  The questions and talk got simpler and simpler, his voice soft and repetive.  Was he trying to bore my clothes off?   Or maybe this was some hypnosis shtick he'd picked off the back of a magazine?  I mean, it was so transparent it was amusing.  




Carefully, I dialed down, making my answers and responses briefer, simpler and vaguer, pretending to pay less and less attention.   Boldly, I let my hand fall over Ted's upper thigh, almost breaking character with a giggle over his instant boner and obvious discomfiture.




Colin's hand moved slowly back and forth from my knee up the inside of my thigh, pushing my hem up past my stocking.   Every time he moved his hand up, he pushed my legs a little further apart, and I let him, resisting but letting that resistance fade.   Finally, his fingers brushed my pussy through my panties, my hips rocked ever so slightly, and I sighed.




"She's under," Colin said.




Was I?  I wondered.   How did he judge that?  I wanted to ask, but instead, I could only stare straight ahead at nothing in particular, being vague, pretending I hadn't heard.  His fingers continued to brush lightly against my pussy.




"How can you tell?" 




Thank you Ted, I thought.




"She's unresponsive," he said, "unfocused.  You can tell cognitive processes have basically shut down."




Yeah, I thought.  Talk like a psych major.  Pay attention to pussy processes.  The tip of his finger pressed into my panties, parting my lips, working up and down.  I squirmed.




"What do you mean?"




"Roofies depress cognitive processes," he said, "disrupts memory formation.  She's literally stopped thinking on her own.   Watch this."




He whispered in my ear.




"Barb..."




"Mmmm," I responded.




"Barb.  Show us your tits, you want to show us your tits, Barb" soft, but clear and commanding, an order.




Yes Massa, I thought sarcastically.  I giggled.  "Hey, wanna see my tits."   Pushing them up and out, but not opening my top.




"See?"  Colin explained, "She's not really thinking on her own.   There's nothing upstairs.  It's an empty room.  If you put something in her head, she thinks its her own idea.  The machinery is still there, she's conscious, but not driving.  Very suggestible."




Interesting, I thought.   It gave me some ideas.




"Watch this?"  Colin said.  He snapped his fingers right in front of my face.  "Hey!"




I couldn't help myself, I jumped.  Focused.  Stared.  Then carefully, let myself sink back in the role.




"Who am I Barb?"




Should I know this.   I thought probably.  It was roofies, not amnesia pills.




"Colin."  I giggled.




He looked satisfied.  Score for me, I thought.




"And him?"




"Ted."  Giggle.




"What's this label say?"




"Coors."




He covered it.




"What did the label say?"




"Coors."




He was such a fucking psych student.  It was pathetic.




"Can I touch her tits?"  Ted asked.




Oh finally!




"Sure," Colin said, "but no sudden movements, that'll startle her and concentrate her attention.  Just easy and steady, and she'll go along with it.  She'll do anything."




Ted's hand slid under my blouse, settling against my ribs and slowly stroking upwards.  I arched my back slightly, to make it easier for him, hopefully without being obvious.




"She's responsive to basic stimulation," Colin said.   Ouch!  I guess it was obvious after all.  "But cognitive processes are down, so she's not really distinguishing your touch from her own body right now.   That's good."




Ted's hand pushed my bra cup up and off, cupped my firm breast, the nipple hard under his fingertips.   Not distinguishing his touch from my own body, right?   Good.  I moaned and squirmed slightly, reached up and pressed my blouse, squeezing his hand on my breast.




"Wow!" said Ted.




"Responsive, like I said," Colin replied.   "Watch this..."




He held up the beer, hand over the label.




"Barb, What's it say?"




Trick question?   That was pretty fucking obvious.  But then again, I was supposed to be drugged out on roofies.   So....




"Cannnn' see."




"But what's it say, do you remember?"




The answer was obviously implied.   Memory formation impaired?  Would I really forget a label I'd just identified minutes before?




"Donnn' nooo." I slurred.  Should I slur, I wondered?  I was roofed out, not drunk.  He didn't seem to object though, so it must have been okay.




"See?" he said.  "No short term memory, no memory formation.  Isn't that cool."




"She remembers our names," Ted said.




"Sure, those are formed memories, already there."  He explained.  "But she won't be forming new ones."




He slapped my face hard.




"Hey!"  I snapped.




"It's okay, it's okay," he soothed.   After a moment or two of stroking my arm, he told Ted, "See.  She's already forgot, it's as if it didn't happen."




"So we can fuck her up?"




I didn't like the sound of that.




"No, it focuses her, she responds, it can get out of hand.  She doesn't need memory formation to fight or freak out.  And if we hurt her, the memory might fade, but the pain won't and she'll continue to react to that....  A really strong emotional reaction, like terror, she'll keep on feeling scared even if she's not remembering why she's scared, she'll just apply that to anything.  Hey Barb, hon, how's your cheek feel?"




"Stings." I sniffled.




"How come?"




"Dunno," I replied.




"You see," he said.  




He kissed my cheek.  "There, all better."




As he did that, his finger wormed under my panties and slid into my wet cunt.  A gasped, twitched and then relaxed into it, allowing my legs to spread further, as he pushed the panties away from my cunt.   I congratulated myself on my performance.   His little psych lecture helped me fake it even better.        Not the wetness, of course, not the sexual pleasure, the arousal, the slightly jolt of submission and surrender of having my body entered.  That was real.




It was the mindless drug reactions that I faked.  But even those were liberating.  It was liberating to just spread my legs and get fingered.   There was no baggage, no politics.  I could just relax and enjoy being meat, surrender to pleasure and sensation.




As Colin fingered me, Ted pulled himself up on the couch, looming over me.  Pulling on my hair, he drew my head back and forced his mouth on mine, his tongue entering me.  His hand, pulled out from under my blouse, shoved down my top, dislodging buttons, exposing disheveled breasts and hard nipples.  His fingers stroked the nipples, pinched them, bringing a moan from me into his mouth, and then his hand travelled down to my crotch, his fingers pushing up against Colin's, and mashing clumsily against my clit.  I spread my legs willingly now, arching my pussy forward. 




Two hands on my cunt.  It was wild.  It wasn't like both my hands together.  No, these were two bodies, the hands not coordinating, but like separate live things, pushing, clashing, drawing awareness in two different ways.  Hands on my body, all over, it was hard to focus, sensations layered on sensations.  Colin ducked his head, and took a nipple between his teeth, biting it just hard enough to make me whimper. 




"Oh she's ready," Ted whispered, breaking away from the kiss, leaving me gasping.  "I'm going to fuck this bitch in half."




"Let's get her clothes off," Colin said.  Together, they half struggled me out of my clothes, already half undone.   Giving me orders to bend this way, move here, so they could undress me more easily.  I giggled and complied, pretending to be half out of it, just awkward enough to make it a little harder for them.




Finally, I was naked, being pawed by two horny guys.   I reached for their cocks, being careful to be just slightly clumsy.  Ted's was already out of his pants, and he guided my face onto it.  "Suck it bitch."  He ordered.  Submissively, I complied, relaxing into his control.




Any lingering nervousness was gone.  Now it was just excitement.  The excitement of sex, of being hot and dirty, of breaking rules.  Good girls didn't get it from two men at once the way I was going to.  It was wild and nasty.... and totally secret.  In the end, it would be like it had never happened, they could never admit it, talk about it.




And the best part was that deep down, I was in control.  I wasn't the drugged out cunt they thought I was.  I was aware, watching, calculating every move, reveling in my deception, my wantonness, my superiority to them.   Deep down, I was in control.   Whatever they did, they only did because I let them.  I could end it any moment.




They didn't take me into the bedroom though.  Instead, they played with me on the couch.  Ted straddling me, feeding his cock into my face and making me gag slightly, while Colin worked two and then three fingers into me.   I didn't mind




Colin pulled on my ankle, twisting my body.  My mouth left Ted's cock as he turned me over, positioning me over the arm of the couch.




"I'm going to fuck this bitch up the ass," Colin announced.




My blood went cold.  I gave no outward sign, but my stomach tightened.   I was an anal virgin.  I'd never done it that way.  Once, a boyfriend had tried it, but it had hurt too much trying to get it in and I'd said never again.   Colin was a lot bigger down there than that boyfriend had been.




Fuck, I thought.   I wasn't ready.  I didn't want this.   What's wrong with just regular sex.  Look, I'm wet, I'm horny, I'm spreading my pussy and sucking cock.




"I want this ass," Colin said.   "I think she's cherry.  I'm going to pop it."




He pressed his cock against my asshole and pushed.




"Nooo..."  I moaned, pretending to be half out of it.  "Not there."




He didn't take his cock away from my endangered sphincter.




"It's okay, Barb," he spoke soothingly.




"She doesn't want to, man," Ted said nervously.




"Who cares what she wants?"  Colin snapped.   My blood ran cold again. 




"Grab her," he ordered.   "If she screams, clamp her mouth.  Once I'm in her for a little while, she'll get used to it.  It'll be like she's always had it there.   No memory formation, remember.  She won't remember me ramming her, she'll just know I'm up there."




Ramming.  I didn't like that.   I was going to have to break character.  Call it off.




"What if she doesn't like it?"




"Doesn't matter, she won't remember it, five minutes after I'm finished."




Except I would remember it.  Except it was going to hurt like hell.   I struggled feebly, trying to stay in character and get out of this.




"Nooo..." I wailed.




He pushed his cock hard against my anus, and it hurt like fuck.   I squealed and jerked around, but Ted held me fast.  He was much stronger than me.  My heart was racing.




What if I broke character, and they didn't stop?   What was to stop them from just outright raping me.  I mean, that's what they thought they were doing, right?  Raping me with drugs.  Well, I was naked and held down and spread out, why should they stop?




And if I did reveal... what would that do?  Tell them I was a slut who was willing to pretend?  Willing to have sex with two men?  Or a half dozen?




I wouldn't remember him slapping my face.  I wouldn't remember him trying to force his way in, and it hurting.   I wouldn't remember anything.




I concentrated, trying to relax my body, trying to wash away the memory of the terror of violation.  Relax, I told myself.  Go limp.




"It's working," Ted said, "she's forgetting."




Asshole, I thought.  But still, I forced myself to relax.  Play it through, I told myself.  It will be okay, just play it out.




Colin stepped up behind me, his hand on my ass.  I stiffened and then forced myself to relax, consciously relaxing even my anus.  Colin dabbed lubrication around my sphincter, causing me to tighten involuntarily, before once again, I forced relaxation.  He slid his finger in, working around the anal ring.




I needed more than that.   Ask for it?   No, too obvious.




"Mmm," I muttered.   "Feels nice...."




"See," Colin said with brutal satisfaction, "she likes the finger already.   She's going to be an ass slut when we finish with her."




I didn't think so.  I didn't think so at all.   But he added more lubrication, working it in and around.  I made a contented sound to encourage him, and still more.  Two fingers slipped in, stretching my anus, working round and round.   I struggled to relax myself, heart pounding at the thought of my imminent violation.  Don't panic, I told myself. 




Finally, I felt his cock head, now well lubricated itself, pressing up against my slick, slippery anus.




"Easy," I muttered, as close to instruction as I dared.




"It's okay baby," Colin soothed, "I'll go real slow."




He pressed.  And built pressure slowly.  I tightened against it.   No, I told myself, if I tighten, he'll tear me.  Have to relax.  No way out.  I had to submit, to go with it and hope it wouldn't hurt too much.  I prayed for it to be over fast.




As I relaxed, I felt the pressure build, the force of his cock pushing hard, tearing me.  I whimpered, tightened, and forced my anus to relax.   And then, with a sudden push, he forced it into me, I shrieked with sharp pain, and Ted clamped his hand over my mouth, muffling me.  It hurt.  Tears rolled down my cheeks.  I squirmed helpless between the two of them, my body involuntarily tightening, making it hurt more.




"That's not so bad," he soothed me.  




"I'm in," he told Ted,   "I'm going to give her the whole thing."  




I whimpered and tried to protest, almost breaking character.   I didn't want the whole thing, I wanted it out.   Unfortunately, I was held down between the two of them, my voice muffled.  It didn't matter in that moment if I acted sober and undrugged, there was nothing I could do, and their attention was so focused on my anal violation they didn't notice.




Instead, as I struggled helplessly, Colin began feeding his big cock slowly into me.  There was nothing I could do.  I tightened involuntarily, whimpering with pain, and he'd stop.  But even as it died down, he'd start pushing deeper again.  Oh god it was so big!




Finally, I felt his hips pressing into my ass, his balls against my cunt lips.  He was all the way up inside me.   I was panting hard.  But strangely, I was weirdly elated.  Maybe too much oxygen from hyperventilating.  I felt tired, and a little dizzy, and lightheaded, but it wasn't hurting too much.  Not as much as at the start.   I wasn't going to enjoy it, but okay, I thought I could endure it.   I promised myself, after I got through this, it was over.   The first time had been a fluke, I wasn't going to go through this again, no way.  No more playing roofed out slut.




He began to pull back.




"Slowwww...."  I mumbled around Ted's hand.  I don't know if he understood me, but he got the message.  He made his stroke really slow as he pulled almost out, then slid back in me.  I gasped.




Ted removed his hand, but still kept hold of me.  I moaned.  Carefully, Colin began working his cock in and out.  With every stroke, it seemed my anus weakened, loosened.  It hurt less, and then not at all, and then there was just the sensation of this huge thing up inside me in an unfamiliar place.




Slowly, as Colin fucked my ass, he built up speed, occasionally making me whimper.   Despite myself, I actually began to feel pleasure, arousal.  His big thrusting member pushed up in places I never knew and I was amazed to feel my body responding.   Behind the mask of being a drugged out slut, I was free to simply react, gasping and moaning with each thrust.




As the thrusts became more forceful, my body swung and heaved.  I grunted and groaned, arching my back.  He slapped my ass a few times.   His tempo grew.  He was pounding me.




Abruptly out of nowhere, this wave of paralysing pleasure swept through me.  My body went rigid, I tightened, but it only made him violate me more fiercely.  Lightning crawled up my spine.  Ted slammed his hand on my mouth to suppress my loud moan.




And then it was over.  I went totally limp, covered with sweat, jerking with the aftereffects as Colin thrust deep into my bowels until he came.




"Me next!"  Ted announced.




I shuddered.  Oh no, not again.




The changed position.




But Colin must have ruined me.   Ted's lubricated cock slid up my ass without resistance.   He began to fuck me easily, and I felt the strange sensations of arousal returning.




Colin placed himself in front of me.  His cock inches from my face, smelling of my violated rectum.  I was not going to suck that.  I was absolutely not going to suck that.  I knew where it had been.




"Dude," Ted said, "she's not going to suck that.  You just had it up her ass."




"So what," Colin asked.   "No memory formation, remember.   She's not going to know where it's been."




Fuck, I thought.   I had no choice but to play along.  He brushed his cock against my closed lips, but that didn't bother him.  He just pried my jaw open with his fingers, I couldn't resist too much, and then he slid his cock into my mouth.




It wasn't so bad.  I guess some things are worse to think about.  The taste was hardly there, his shaft slid smoothly, and Ted pounded my ass with these rich body shaking strokes.   As awful as parts of it had been, I found myself taking this deep pleasure, almost satisfaction from my position.  Fucked up the ass by one man, sucking anothers cock.  Ruined, violated, debased, deflowered.   How dirty is it taking it up the ass.  It was filthy.  Slutty.   And then taking a cock in my mouth after its fucked me up the ass... oh that was wonderfully depraved.   Almost of its own volition, my hand found its way to my clit, and as Ted thrust deep into my bowels, I fingered to orgasm.




After they finally finished with me.  After I'd sucked shit covered cocks and straddled them and licked their feet, after I'd spread my cheeks so they could take my ass again, and knelt in front of them with my legs spread, humiliated, violated, degraded in my own home...  After all that, they cleaned me up.  They were surprisingly gentle, using damp clothes to sponge the sweat off my body.  Urging me to rinse my mouth with water.   They were solicitous of my poor anus, now worried that I might be sore the next day, their previous brutality forgotten.   This time there was no effort at pictures.  They slid fresh panties on to me, and tucked me into warm sheets.




I listened, lucid but half asleep with exhaustion, as they carefully cleaned away their traces in the living room, before quietly leaving.




I totaled things up.   It wasn't as good as the first time, that had been almost a perfect experience.  But they wouldn't ever talk or tell about this.  No anal stories about Barb. Good Point.  Oh, but fuck, it had been scary and hurt and I'd been fucked up the ass and I hadn't wanted that.  Bad point.  But it hadn't turned out to be so bad, I was amazed at how much I'd ended up liking it.  Good point?   Would it hurt the next time, or would it be easier.   Maybe it wouldn't even hurt at all, now that I'd had it.... Fuck that, there wouldn't be a next time.  But then... why not try anal again... too much, decide some other time.   Oh, but it had been such a nasty scene, degrading, humiliating, it had reached into deeply submissive, masochistic parts of myself and brought them to life in startling ways... was that a good point or bad point.   Too tired to decide.  




I'd accidentally received quite an education, almost an instruction manual, in how to act like I was on Roofies.   That was kind of cool.  The actress in me made notes, perfected her performance.   There were some mistakes I'd made.  But next time...




Next time?   Forget it.  First time lucky.  This time... not so lucky.   Next time... I didn't want to think about that.   There wasn't going to be a next time.  I'd already pushed my luck too far.   Never again, I promised myself.   Absolutely never again.




If only...














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