Chapter 1
I was only nineteen when I met Michael. He was a lot older than me, a graduate student at the University. I was impressionable and I was in love, he had turned me on sexually, taken my virginity and replaced it with a burning insatiation. He was so handsome, so smart, so sophisticated, and when he asked me to move in with him I nearly burst with joy.
I was a fool, an inexperienced fool. I set about decorating with enthusiasm, with a drive to learn and to love. I set up house for Michael, cooking and cleaning and neglecting my schoolwork. For the three semesters that I lived with him I just managed to get by.
It never failed, whenever I started to hit my books he would crook his finger at me or blow in my ear or just parade around naked and within seconds I would be taking his cock up my cunt or in my mouth, forgetting all about my homework.
Most of the time he didn't even have to do anything to excite me, I would just start thinking about his prick and my cunt would be burning to be reamed by him. In those days I walked around, went to classes, did the shopping, took in a movie, no matter what I did, I was always on the brink of an orgasm, I was always conscious of having a cunt.
As the weeks went by and we got use to living together Michael changed somewhat. He didn't want me so much. He didn't fuck me every night, and often he would stay up studying all the night long, leaving me sleepless in our bed.
I didn't change at all, though. In fact, if anything, I grew to want him more. I became accustomed to his hard cock in me, I felt empty without it there. He would come to bed finally and lie down, falling off to sleep and I would caress his back turned to me, or my hands would slip around to his front and I would take his balls in my grasp. Trying to stimulate him, trying to make him want me the way he use to.
And sometimes he would joke about me; he would say I was a bottomless pit, a nymphomaniac and that it would take more than just him to satisfy me. But that wasn't it at all, I wanted him because I loved him. I didn't want anybody else.
The last night we were together. Oh, yes, how well I remember that even now, even sixteen years later. He had come home early from classes in the afternoon and announced to me that he was having three of his friends over for dinner. They were planning on celebrating because one of them had just won his ph.D. He told me to cook up something really special and that I was to look special myself. It sounded like fun to me and as I cooked I listened to him, showering and dressing, singing all the while.
He had gotten a lot of booze in the house for the occasion. That was something we rarely did, we were always short on cash. But he had made it clear this was to be a celebration.
The guests arrived and dinner went spendidly. Everyone was terribly gay and drinking quite a lot. There wasn't too much for me to say, I barely knew the people and I felt somewhat like a second thumb. Nevertheless I was enjoying seeing Michael so happy. I just sat at my end of the table smiling and looking attentive.
As time progressed and the dinner dishes were cleared away, they got down to serious drinking, finally they no longer poured the liquor but drank from the bottles. At this point the conversation turned to sex, they teased each other and talked about various girls I knew. I was a little jealous when they kept referring to some woman that was always out for Michael, but I continued smiling. I began to think that these men weren't acting anymore like highly educated gentlemen than a cage full of baboons.
"Well, Rex, now that you've made it," Michael was saying to the new Doctor, "I think that you deserve one wish to be granted by the local fairy, what would you like, within reason?"
"Ah," said another, "I'll bet he'd like to get laid, he's been so busy studying he hasn't had time to jerk-off."
I decided to go into the kitchen to wash the dishes at that point but as I rose Michael grabbed my hand and pulled me back into my seat.
"What do you think of this chick, Rex?" Michael said indicating me.
Rex looked at me hungrily and I looked at Michael, "Please, Michael, stop." I said.
"Do you know, Rex, that this chick is so fucking horny that not even I can satisfy her lust?" Michael said, holding my arm tightly.
The others laughed, all of them looking at me.
"What do you say, Jane?" Michael said to me, "Do you wanna fuck Rex?"
"Michael," I whispered, "You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying."
"Bullshit, I know what I'm saying. I think you'd like to fuck Rex and maybe Carl and Al, too." He stood up from his chair, weaving somewhat and pulled me to my feet.
"Well," Rex laughed, "Let's see the merchandise!"
Michael promptly took a hold of the front of my dress and ripped the material right in half. My arms flew to cover my naked breasts, but he got behind me and held my arms back.
I screamed at him, but one of the other guys stepped forward quickly and took the ripped material from my dress and stuffed it into my mouth. Tears formed in my eyes and I struggled with them, but to no avail. They were drunken animals who didn't know the meaning of reason.
One of them ripped my panties off of me until I stood struggling in Michael's arms in the shredded remains of my clothing. It was a wretched nightmare, but my eyes were wide open with horror and I was seeing everything.
I saw the lecherous expressions of Michael's friends as they began to paw at my flesh, as if I were a manikin, as if I were the ball in some sort of sport.
I felt Michael's crude grasp around my body. I could not believe it was happening, couldn't believe my beloved Michael was treating me so cruelly.
It got worse. I nearly choked on my gag when I saw the one called Rex unzip his fly and immediately pull out a tremendous erection. His cock was as stiff as an ironing board and purple as lilac flowers.
As he approached me, the other two friends kneeled on either side of me and spread my legs wide for his approach. He put his arms around my waist and pressed his erection against my struggling body.
"This is no good, Michael, this chick of yours doesn't want to cooperate." Rex said, pulling away from me. "Can't we put her on the table or something?"
"Sure, anything you want, Rex." Michael said. moving me toward the cleared table.
They lay me on the white tablecloth and they spread my legs wide. Michael stayed down at my head and made sure I didn't make any noise. Rex immediately climbed onto the table, I felt the weight of him across my thighs as he positioned himself to fuck me.
As I struggled under their grasps, Rex's hand covered my pubic mound and he began to massage my cunt very hard. With his fingers he separated my cunt lips and then stuck two of them right up the hole. He whirled them around inside me, exploring my vagina with his fingers. He found my clitoris and twisted it and rubbed it gently, but very fast. I knew he was trying to arouse me, which seemed like the worst thing of all, but he didn't spend too much time fingering my cunt.
No, he was anxious to stick his hard rod up into my warm flesh. He positioned his cock at the entrance to my cunt, he pushed it in a few inches and then without further ado he rammed up into me.
My back arched against the table as his cock was pushed into me up to the hilt, until I could feel his resilient balls bouncing against my asshole. Michael held his hand over my mouth filled with torn dress material. His friend lowered his whole body over me and began to hump me rather slowly.
"Come on, Rex," said Michael, looking down at me, "You can do better than that! Fuck her, man!"
Rex needed no further enticement than that. I felt the force and the pace of his cock quicken. I felt the whole of his meat ramming into me, breaking me apart with its urgent need to release itself.
My body burned with shame, with betrayal, with hatred for Michael and his friends. As my body was battered under the brutal humping of Rex tears rolled off the side of my face into my hair.
One of the others crawled up to my side and put his face down onto my breasts. He began to suck on my tit very hard, using his hands to squeeze my flesh up into pliable mounds. Rex changed his position in order to accommodate his friend's sucking of my tit.
I heard another zipper somewhere being undone. Michael removed his hand from my mouth and then pulled the gag out. For the few minutes that my mouth was free I screamed obscenities at him. But not for long, because he climbed up onto the table and very awkwardly shoved as much of his cock into my mouth as he could.
The weight of him on the table was too much and the legs collapsed underneath. All of the bodies fell with a crash onto the floor with mine on the bottom. That didn't stop them, oh, no. The man with his cock plowing my cunt started to some and his cock drove in and out of me at a fantastic speed. It bounced off my cervix and caused me a great deal of discomfort.
I choked for air as now Michael had a better course to my mouth. He pried open my mouth with his fingers and then stuck his cock into it, telling me to suck him off. I wasn't about to comply, so he just rammed it right in. He filled my mouth with his hard meat, all the way down my throat, causing me to wretch from the intrusion. My cunt felt the explosion of hot come filling the muscular cavity. But I was beginning to loose touch with all that was happening to my body. I couldn't understand the hands that were laid on me, the hands that were squeezing my nipples and my breasts, caressing my stomach and holding my legs apart. I couldn't make out what the huge, hard thing was that was plunging down into my throat. I felt that cock being removed from my cunt, but soon it was replaced by another, hard as the first when it began and that one now began its descent and its ascent to satisfaction at my expense.
The four men used my body as if it weren't something belonging to a living creature, as if it were something they had purchased in a store, something disposable. To be used once and then discarded, they were completely uninhibited now. Whether it was the booze that had brought out this horribly aggressive nature in them or not I did not know.
I only knew that they did not consider me a human being or even a woman at that point. I was merely a receptacle for their cocks, something to bring about their sexual release and satisfaction.
But they had all come into some part of me by this time. I was vaguely aware of that, thinking that perhaps they would stop this abuse. They had no such intentions and their bodies were not at all ready to stop.
I looked dizzily around at the standing creatures and they all had their flaming cocks still dangling out in the air. Their organs were all in various states of erection but not one was limp.
I looked fearfully into their faces, trying to elicit some kind of response from one of them, some acknowledgement that I was a human being with feelings too.
"Shouldn't we make her come, Mike?" one of them said, not even looking at me.
Michael shrugged, "It might be amusing." But as his friends moved towards me, he stopped them, saying that he had a better idea. He disappeared for a moment into the kitchen, returning with a long, thin bottle.
I cried out miserably as I saw what he had decided would give me an orgasm.
The others laughed wickedly as they situated me on the couch, once again I felt their rough fingers pressing against my flesh. I struggled anew, clamping my legs together hard. This was a big joke to them, it was too easy for them to wrench my legs apart and get at my cunt.
Michael kneeled between my legs on the couch, then his head went down into my crotch and his tongue found my xlitoris. He began to lick all around it, sucking it gently into his mouth. It was just like all the other times before when he had gone down on me. Those times in our bed when I had arched my back and rolled my eyes with the pleasure of his tongue. How happy I had been there, thinking that he was going down on me because he loved me, because he loved the taste of my cunt.
I could not help but respond to his wet caresses, just like I always had. So skillfully he manipulated my clitoris and then he would lick down both sides of the labia, teasing the entrance to my inner flesh. He burrowed down deeper into my cunt and sucked up my cunt lips, returning occasionally to my clitoris. In spite of the bruised feelings in most parts of my body and especially in that area, his tongue was so soothing, so stimulating that I found my body relaxing, urging him onward.
One of the others began to suck on my tit, but gently this time, almost lovingly tasting my nipples and caressing my breasts. Still another petted my hair, and all this kind of attention put me into a great sense of well-being, of warmth. My body was slipping into that aura of pleasure where somewhere in my mind was screaming.
But it was too late, my body was responding in much the same way those beasts had acted. I was imprisoned within my own flesh which had already become a slave to sensual manipulations.
Just as I began to shut my eyes with the deepest of pleasures, feeling an urgent need centering in my loins. A warmth spreading through my thighs, my buttocks, a burning in my cunt, Michael withdrew his head and got up again on his knees.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled down at me with my secretions all over his lips and his chin. He licked his lips.
"What? You haven't come yet?" He said, "You really are a nympho, aren't you?"
"Please, Michael, just a little longer, please." I whispered.
They all laughed at my expense. My own hand flew down to my burning crotch. I clutched at myself and drew my legs up.
"Please, Michael, fuck me." I pleaded. It was insane; I couldn't believe I was acting in that manner. That I would ask such a thing of him, in front of all those other men. Those men who had only recently had their own ways with me. That I was asking Michael who had engineered the whole thing in the first place.
But there just didn't seem to be anymore pride left in my body, only desire for fulfillment, for release, the same as those beasts that had known me, that had shoved their cocks up me and humped me until they were satisfied.
They had had no pride and they had robbed me of my own. What did it matter.
"Please, Michael, I'm begging you." I intoned, rubbing my clitoris desperately.
"I'm tired of fucking you, Jane. Maybe you'd like one of the other guys to do it. How about that?"
I looked at the other men with desperate animal eyes, from the states of their members I would have said that any one of them was more than able to do a job on me. But Michael shook his head at them.
"Later, Jane, we need a rest," He handed me the bottle he had gone to the kitchen to get. "Use this, go ahead stick it up your damn cunt, I'll even help you."
Tears filled my eyes, "No, Michael, please, haven't you done enough?" I tried to push his hands away from me, the hands holding the deadly looking bottle, much longer and thicker than any cock I had ever seen.
But the other men held me down on the couch and they spread my legs out again. One of them even put a couple of pillows under my ass so I would be easier to get at.
Michael put the head of the bottle at the entrance of my cunt. He began to work it up; into me, slowly but surely, working the whole length and width of the bottle up into my insides.
The fillingness of the object caused my back to arch and my whole body to tense up with the surprise and the pain of it. I screamed out but quickly a hand came over my mouth to prevent me from making too much noise.
"Shut up, you whore, you're going to love it." Michael said between his teeth as he began to work the thing in and out of my cunt. He held the bottle with one hand and found a rhythm in the grotesque fucking he was doing. With the other hand he massaged my pubic mound vigorously, stroking my clitoris rapidly.
And the sensations were incredible. I began to hump upwards with my body, losing again," all sense of the situation that I was in, forgetting myself entirely in demand of my body to have satisfaction.
I began to whimper underneath the hand over my mouth. Soon the hand was removed and I moaned out loud. They loved that and they all set to caressing my body and watching the coming and the going of the hard object slithering in my cunt.
Michael began to fuck me harder and faster with the bottle, he pressed deep into my clitoris with his fingernail. A cry of pain rose in my throat, but I suppressed it. Because it all felt very good, really it did.
That bottle felt huge and hard. It filled my cunt completely and Michael's hand wrapped over the rest of my female parts was stimulating the hell out of me.
I writhed underneath the hands, shoving my body upward to meet the onslaught of the bottle. I felt urgency coursing through my veins, I felt a certain madness creeping into my brain. I was entering a period of fleshly culmination in which I cared about nothing, but my body moved with the flavor of orgasm.
I shivered inwardly, feeling my flesh dissolve with passion and need. My hands reached out, but someone was sitting on them and I could hardly move my fingers.
I cried out in orgasm, closing my eyes tightly, my face contorting with lust and the peak of satisfaction.
It did not last very long at all, not even as long as usual. And when my body soon stopped writhing I expected Michael to remove the bottle and discontinue the whole thing. I was wrong again. He continued to force the bottle inside of me, even doing it harder and faster.
I begged him to stop. Finally he did, but by this time my cunt was terribly sore. The backs of my thighs felt weak, numb.
"Shit, Mike," said Rex, "Watching that scene really got to me. Do you mind if I have another go at her?"
Michael, of course, didn't mind at all and left his place between my legs for his friend. Rex talked to me, explained he hadn't done it right before, but this time he sure as hell was going to.
He went into me, sliding his hard cock right up into my cunt, not even giving me a chance to catch my breath. He lay flat against my body in traditional missionary position and then just began to hump me as hard as he could.
He found my mouth and began to kiss me savagely, as his cock plunged into my poor flesh, his tongue plunged into my mouth and he licked at my mouth and sucked at my tongue.
His pelvic bone banged against mine and his body flailed about my body. He jumped in and out of my cunt and it almost seemed as if he were far more into it than the first time he had done it. He seemed mad with his passion, his sick passion.
And when he came he bit my tongue and wildly fucked me until every last drop of his semen had flooded into me.
When he was finished he was replaced by another and another. Oh, yes, they went on and on into the night, using me in every way imaginable until I finally found that I could no longer stand it, until I became unconscious.
In the morning I awoke. It was horrible. The room about me was in shambles. The furniture broken, the rugs stained, flower pots were overturned and dirt spilled onto the floor.
I stood up or rather I tried to and my feet collapsed underneath me. I fell to the floor in pain. I crawled into the bathroom and pulled myself up to a standing position. The sight in the mirror was worse than the sight of the living room.
I was a patchwork of bruises. My face was caked with come, with spit. I touched the sore spots on my body. My hair was tangled and matted my eyes were clouded and seemed small in my face.
I turned on the hot water and filled the bath. I took a long hot bath, not thinking of anything in particular except the heat and kindness of the water. I examined my legs, my stomach, my breasts, noting all the evidence of abuse.
When I got out of the tub and dried off I was filled by a conundrum of emotions. I felt anger, yes anger, but more sadness than anger. I had truly loved Michael, I had trusted him, I had never imagined him capable of such unwarranted brutality.
I walked into the bedroom, knowing that somehow I had to pack my things, somehow I had to get out of there before he came back. But it was very difficult for me to move, to organize my thoughts.
I tried to think of someone I could call, someone who would come and help me, but I knew that there was no one. When I had moved in with Michael I had abandoned all my other friends. No one had seemed as interesting or as stimulating as him.
I realized what a fool I had been, the whole time we had been together I saw that he had used me. Maybe not in such a blatant way as the night before, but in a subtle and perhaps more destructive way.
I had been his slave all right, his fool. The pain in my heart swept over me and I burst into tears. But I fought them, somehow hysteria would be just the thing expected of me.
I knew that from somewhere in my being I had to muster the strength to pack and go. I had to find some self-respect somewhere and use it as my vehicle to continue existence. When I had packed what I could carry I called a taxi and asked the man to take me to a dormitory where an old friend of mine lived.
She was surprised to see me since I hadn't talked to her in months. I didn't tell her about what had happened, she just figured that I had broken up with Michael. She was good enough to allow me to stay in her room with her until the school found me another room in a dormitory.
I tried not to think about Michael at all. I just went to the library or to class and no place else. I studied hard for the rest of the semester and all those after that. I stayed to myself, I stuck with my books. I found that I preferred the company of books to that of human beings, and I guess that's why I finally went into Library Science.
Years later after Graduate School I was offered a position in the archives of a museum in New York City. It was a challenging position with plenty of opportunity, but I didn't want it. I turned it down and at the age of twenty-eight went to work in a small town library in Massachusetts.
South Leeport is a quiet town and it all suited my quiet lifestyle just perfectly. When I turned thirty-three, I became head librarian there.
And I suppose I was happy all those years. I lived among the books and the young school children. But I am still a young woman, only thirty-five. My body is fine and well-formed, my breasts are twin mounds of white flesh, perhaps just a little to large. My skin is perfect and my hair is auburn, and though it is very long, I always tie it up into a bun.
I am young still and perhaps far more attractive than I was at nineteen. My body is alive with desires, sometimes I find myself at night ... ah, but I must control these thoughts.
There is nothing in the world for me but books, I know this very well, for I cannot bear the thought of a man.