How NOT to Stop a Gangbang

As things started to settle down one of the older guys asked something in Japanese. A couple of guys translated simultaneously, "How oldareyou?" they wanted to know.

I don't know if it was the sake or just the good natured attention I was getting, but I was starting to like these guys. I decided to give them a treat. "Sixteen," I said. I don't think I look sixteen. But I guess with my big eyes, freckles and the ridiculous pig-tails, someone could convince themselves I'm seven years younger than I really am; especially if they really, really wanted to believe it; which, apparently, these guys did.

A murmur went around the room as this was translated and remarked upon. "You are really sixteen?" one asked.

"Yeah, is that OK?"

"Ohhhhh, it is very,veryOK." he replied. The crowd buzzed in consent.

"So, what do you gentlemen want me to do?" I asked, figuring we might as well get this over with.

"Your school clothes look very tight and uncomfortable. Perhaps you should relax yourself for us."

"Yeah OK," I said. "Do you guys want to turn on music or something?"

They looked confused at my question because there was already music playing, but it was that plinky-plonky type music Americans hear played as background music in Asian restaurants and no where else. I was expecting them to want me to strip to something livelier. But no, this was a traditional get together for these guys and the red-headed, brown eyed, Irish-American whore (me) was apparently the only deviation they were willing to take from the theme.

So I slowly stripped to the plinky-plonky Japanese string music as the guys settled down around me and watched with intense faces and shallow breaths. I couldn't get any sense of rhythm from the alien sounding tune so I just worked slowly; slowly I released the buttons of my shirt; slowly I pulled the shirt off; slowly I pulled down the zipper on my plaid skirt; slowly I shimmied the skirt down to the floor. It seemed the obvious thing to do next was bring my tits out, but for some reason I dropped my panties instead. There was an exited murmur as they got a good look at my nicely trimmed red snatch. I don't know Japanese but I could tell there was much exited discussion of my naturally dark-red pubes. I could tell that so far I was a big hit.

I was getting into it. I dropped onto the ottoman and played with my pussy; parting my lips, teasing my clit, finger fucking myself a little. While I did this I let the straps of my bra drop off my shoulders. As I writhed around in front of the guys my nipples slowly popped out like pink moons rising up over a red lace horizon. My new fans nudged each other, commenting in Japanese and pointing; at least, those few who didn't already have their hands on their dicks did.

Finally I popped the clasp on my bra and let the girls out. They applauded. I smiled at them, honestly enjoying their enthusiasm. I still had my pumps and thigh high stockings on, but bringing out my boobs seemed to have been the signal they'd all been waiting for. They were up and crowding around me in an instant; palms slid along my back, neck, stomach and ass; hands squeezed and lifted my tits while pinching and twisting my nipples; fingers prodded along my ass and into the folds of my pussy. One guy got even behind me to play enthusiastically with my pigtails as his hard wang poked and slapped me in the back of the head. It was like I was sinking into a pit lined with grasping, waving tentacles.

I thought of Cindy; eaten by a squid indeed.

Every guy had to have one hand on my flesh, preferably on my boobs or ass, and another on his shaft. They groped and yanked, groped and yanked. My hands were pulled up and placed on eagerly quivering units as my face became surrounded by stiff, purpled headed dicks which suggestively poked at me, waiting for me to take the hint.

Well, what's a girl to do when twelve guys are earnestly expecting you suck their dicks? I got started. They moved around me, one after another pausing for couple of dozen sucks before making way for a colleague. I bobbed my head back and forth along those stiff, veiny schlongs, occasionally trying the new trick Ernie had taught me and taking them way back into my throat. Needless to say, this ability aroused much excitement. Meanwhile I stroked and stroked, my two hands always busy, blindly waiting for the next tool to work as they politely took their turns at me. A very civilized people are the Japanese.

They seemed to be synchronizing for the finale. I began to get more and more pre-cum smearing my hands and tongue, dripping down my wrists and chin. The crush of thrusting cock eased back from my face. My hands were allowed to drop to my lap. I was presented with a panorama of sweaty, masturbating Asians aiming their florid love guns at my face. The air was alive with a growling hum of muttering men who were looking down at me through wide eyes and tightly clenched jaws. Too late I realized the extent of what I was in for and my inner freaked-out meter, strangely quiet until then, buried itself in the red and melted away. As I Looked up at them through what I can only imagine were panicked, desperate eyes they seemed to gasp at once and then the deluge burst forth.

I got glazed like a donut as spurt after spurt splattered against my face, neck, shoulders and chest. It got into my mouth and nostrils to saturate me with the musky smell and overripe-melon taste of sperm. It got into my eyes to provoke a gush of burning tears. It even got into my ears to plunge me into a murky half-silence as every voice and sound came to me filtered through a curtain of cum. Glaciers of the slowly oozing sheets of semen slid along my skin into streams of jizz flowing across my face to drip from my jaw in sickly stretching strands. It flowed down my neck and chest to merge into a mighty river of cum that coursed between my dripping, spunk be-speckled tits. It ended in a coagulating mass of white jelly that pooled in my belly button, clung to my pubic hair like glue, seeped into the folds of my pussy and crept back along the crack of my ass. I'd never been so God-awful filthy.

I knew it was over when I felt a towel tossed into my lap. I gratefully wiped the slowly congealing second skin of viscous scum from my face. Able to see again, I found myself alone, the sated gentlemen had moved into another room and I heard them cheering and toasting themselves for good teamwork and a job well done. With team building exercises like that no wonder the bastards are so damned efficient.

On the table near me sat a tumbler of warm sake which I drank it down in a gulp. I watched with sick disgust as a long strand of spunk stretched from the glass back to my lower lips as I put the glass down. My nerves were frayed and I was feeling on the verge of moral panic. I remember back in high school how I ruled the class like a queen god-bitch; smacking down other girls with my wicked mouth; destroying rivals with gossip; sometimes ruining other girls with lies just for the fun of watching their reputations crumble. But no rumor I'd ever passed along and no lie I invented from thin air ever matched the depravity in which I'd just engaged. Alone in a room, the seed of twelve strangers who's names I'd never know smeared across my body, I felt suddenly wretched and cheap.

Do you know what was really odd? As I sat there alone and fighting the instinct to cry, the person who I wished was there to hold me and comfort me, to tell me things were alright, to tell meIwas alright, was Beth. I knew she wouldn't judge me or recoil from my cum blasted body. I knew she would clutch me close and coo to me that she loved me. And I knew she'd mean it. The fucked up thing was that I didn't even consider her a friend. She was just an emotional tampon I dumped on from time to time because she was so convenient and dependable.

But she wasn't there and the men were done with me. I was on my own.

I just wanted to take a quick shower, get out of there and go home. Unfortunately when water hits sperm it turns it into something akin to caulk or half dried Elmer's Glue and my shower became a frustrating exercise in picking globs of rubbery semen out of my belly button, hair, eye-lashes; everywhere. Finally I gave up and decided to just get the fuck out of there. But as I started pulling my Slutty Catholic Girl costume back on I realized that quite a bit of my appreciative audience's spunk had missed me and spackled my discarded clothes with tell-tale splotches of milky white goo. I briefly considered washing what I could in the sink, but decided to that my desire to get out of there surpassed my reluctance to walk through the lobby looking like a drop cloth at a mayonnaise factory.

I pulled on my clothes but threw away my stockings since I'd worn then the entire time and they were too soaked with cum to get back on. As I hurried out I wished I'd brought along a change of clothes. There's a lesson for you girls, if you are ever the cum dumpster at a circle jerk, bring a track suit or something for the walk back out to the car.

Fortunately I didn't have to share the elevator with anyone on the way down to the lobby. When the doors opened I trotted towards the parking lot in my bare feet, shoes in hand. There was a bar just off the lobby and I heard someone shout, "Hey bitch, how much for a fuck?" as I pushed through the revolving doors. On any other day they would have gotten a hearty "fuck you" from me, and maybe more, but I was only interested in getting into my car and getting home.

I drove around for three hours, killing time until I was sure everyone at home would be asleep. Stopping for a Coke and some fries at McDonalds I found the five hundred dollar tip someone had put in my skirt pocket. With the money Ernie had given me that was six hundred and twenty dollars for a couple hours "work" today. You'd think such a windfall would be cause for at least a little rejoicing but instead I sat in the parking lot and cried hysterically for fifteen minutes. Eventually someone rapped on the glass to ask if I was OK so I drove off without answering, nearly running over the nosy bitch.

***

When I got home all the lights were off. Quietly sneaking into the house with ninja-like concentration, I crept upstairs and into my room, sealed my sticky Saint Theresa's uniform in a garbage bag and put it out with the trash. I never wanted to see that shit again.

I felt a sudden wave of relief. My obligation complete, I only needed to get the information Sheila owed me and the highlight of Chuck's party would be the unpleasant experience of my unrestrained wrath coming down on them like a fucking tsunami. And by God did I have a lot of stored up frustration and degradation that I was eager to release on those fuckers. I was suddenly high as a kite on righteous anger. I thought of calling Sheila right then, but it was one thirty in the morning and all I wanted to do was take a very thorough shower and go to bed. I'd call her in the morning from work. That would give me almost two full days to plan the details of my revenge.

I passed Adam's room on my way to the bathroom and looked in on him with an evil grin as he lay snoring on his bed in the moonlight. He was sleeping peacefully; completely unaware of the bombshell I had built. His plans were already ruined and he had no idea.

That's when I noticed he had fallen asleep with his bong on the night stand and his bag of weed sitting open beside it. It just fucking figured; Mom chews me out for throwing a "motherfucker" at him in an argument and he's smoking dope in his room and no one says shit; so fucking typical.

So, I decided I'd flush his bag.

I tip toed over and picked it up. The strong smell of potent weed wafted towards me as I held it up to inspect it. It looked like a quarter ounce of good stuff; red haired, skunky sensimillia bud.Say goodbye to Adam,I thought.Time for flushies.

But I was feeling the rush of impending victory and it occurred to me that it would be nice to celebrate. It had been a long time since I'd smoked pot. Actually, I'd quit shortly after I started dating Chuck, primarily so I could demand Chuck quit because I knew it'd piss off Adam. (Follow that? It made sense at the time.) I figured a nice stoner buzz would help me relax and maybe forget the fucked up day I'd just endured. So, I stuck a sticky bud in the bowl and took a few deep hits.

I hadn't smoked in almost a year and it was some really strong weed. Just remember that as I continue my story. Please.

I blew a gush of smoke into Adam's sleeping face and saw his nostrils flare as he smiled and giggled. I thought it would be fun to fuck with his dreams. I got the idea to whisper into his ear horrifying scenarios concerning his ass rape by hordes of Japanese business-squid. However, as I stood up the strong weed toppled me right over onto the bed. He must have been really high because he didn't wake up even though I had landed with my hand right on his crotch. That's when I noticed that under the covers he had a hard on. He moaned in his sleep as his unit twitched hopefully in my hand.

He said, "Mmraml brmmran nl".

I asked, very softly, "What?"

He said, in a slurry sleep-talking voice, "feels nice."

I had an idea. As usual, looking at it in hindsight, it probably wasn't my best idea. To be honest it wasn't even an acceptable-to-civilized-society idea.

I said, very softly, "Do you want me to do more?"

"Yes."

I started rubbing it. It grew even harder. He moaned. Again I asked, "Do you want me to do more?"

"Yeeees."

I opened his boxers and pulled it out. Gingerly I gave it a few licks. Then, to the delight of his dreaming self, I took the whole thing into my mouth and slowly bobbed my head along it a few times. Pulling back I said, very softly, "Do you know who this is?"

"Mmmm. Don't care."

That was the perfect answer for my plan. I suppressed a devious laugh and gave him a few more sucks. I said again, "Do you know who this is?"

"Who?"

"It'smeAdam. It's mom."

"Unnnh. Nooooo." He groaned in muted dreamy distress. I continued sucking him as he weakly writhed in protest.

"Do you want to fuck me Adam? Do you want to fuck mommy?"

"Noooooooo."

He was laying right at the edge of the bed so it was easy to open my robe and throw a leg over him. He wailed miserably but quietly as I took him inside me. I worked him slow, again telling him I was mom; telling him that he was fucking his mother sooo good; telling him to come inside his mommy. When he did, whimpering the whole time, I actually saw tears rolling out of his eyes in the dim moonlight falling across his bed. At that moment I thought it the best prank I'd ever played on him.

For some reason, I slept very poorly that night.

The next morning I was a mess; exhausted from staying up so late, the strong weed, the night plagued with wretched dreams. I drifted through the house like a zombie. When I encountered Adam in the kitchen I remembered that what I'd done to him in his room was not one of my disturbing nightmares. However, looking at his drawn, haunted face I saw that I'd scored a direct hit on his psyche.

"Good morning motherfucker," I said. He didn't respond. He just froze in place and shuddered briefly.

That made my morning.Take that you asshole,I thought.That's just the first drop of the shit storm coming your way.

***

Despite my victory I felt groggy and ill at ease that morning. I was moving very slowly and got to the office late: forty minutes late. When I arrived at my cubical I found my boss sitting in my chair waiting for me with his "we need to talk" face on. He took me to a conference room and explained that he understood I was consumed by the details of my upcoming wedding, but that I still needed to maintain my focus at my job. He had spreadsheets for me that beautifully illustrated how much my work was slipping (like I needed spreadsheets to know that) and he admonished me for my frequent absenteeism and tardiness. I signed the documentation on my official warning and was sent back to my desk to get to work.

On the way to my desk I took a long detour to the south break room in order to avoid Beth on my way to get some more coffee. When I got back to my cubical I immediately called Sheila.

"You were supposed to call me last night honey. I was concerned," she said. She sounded sleepy and I could hear a TV in the background. I figured she was at home. I wondered what her house looked like. I imagined a trailer full of ashtrays, cats and dildos.

"I'm sorry, I guess I was a little freaked out," I admitted.

"Really? I spoke to our client and you were a huge hit."

"Oh, that's nice," I said sarcastically.

"No I mean it. You were a smash. They're asking about flying you out to Tokyo for some event."

"Oh."

"You interested?"

"Fuck no, I'm not interested."

"Easy sweetie. Just thought I'd check. You know if you ever change..."

"Look, we had a fuckin' deal. I want to know where my brother is having you send a whore for my fiancé's bachelor party and I want to know now."

"OK, OK, I guess you earned it," she said. I heard her tapping at a keyboard, "what's the name?"

"Well, my fiancé's name is Chuck Harris: Charles Harris."

"No. No Charles Harris on the schedule."

I got a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. It can't be that I'd been through all this for nothing.

"I got Adam Harris, I got a CharlesHubbard," She offered hopefully.

I felt the sick feeling evaporate away. Adam Harris. As usual Adam was trying to be crafty, but in the laziest way possible. He had just combined his name with Chuck's last name. I said, "It's Adam Harris."

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Hmm, OK. There's a problem though. That one is scheduled for noon today."

"Shit."

"Yeah. And I've already assigned a girl for that one. If you're going to bump her you'll need to give her a gratuity, this is her livelihood after all."

"How about six hundred?" I asked, remembering the tips from yesterday. I didn't want anything to do with that money or the memories attached to it.

"Yeah, that should keep her happy. OK hon, I got the address. Ready?"

The address was out in a swanky housing development ten miles or so from home. I figured if I left work right away I would still be there in plenty of time even if I stopped by home for a wardrobe change. I switched off my computer without ever having logged in for the day and started for the exit. Unfortunately as I was stepping into the elevator my boss spotted me. "Just gotta get something from the car," I called out to him as the doors closed.

I wish I could say my heart was full of icy calm as I drew closer to the end-game, but it wasn't. Quite the opposite, I grew increasingly livid as I sped back home through the thinning remains of the morning rush hour. I felt angry and foolish that I had allowed Chuck and Adam to deliberately mislead me about the date and time of the bachelor party. I'd been focused so much on what was going to happen at the party I never even considered they were playing a fast one with thewhen. As I thought about how they had long been planning to bang some whore all afternoon and then show up at the rehearsal that evening with their dicks still wet with slut juice, my foot grew heavier and my driving more erratic. I muscled my way through traffic like a character in a Vin Diesel movie.

About halfway home my cell phone started ringing. It was work. I turned it off. Now was no time for trifles.

No one was home when I got there so I scurried up to mom's sewing room and grabbed the wedding dress. That's right, I was going to surprise those fucks by showing up in my wedding dress to cancel their gang bang. It's quite poetic if you think about it. Everything was falling into place. I was actually laughing wickedly as I laboriously pulled it on.