Not That Kind of GirlbyElspethMoans©
*Disclaimer - Please do not skip this!*
This story is pure fantasy, and as such includes scenes of graphic non-consensual sex that some readers may find offensive. They are of a stronger nature than many within this category. You have been warned!
Thank you to readers thus far for their feedback...much appreciated.
'I'm not that kind of girl,' Sarah thought, but she found herself nodding nonetheless.
The big blonde guy beside her at the bar smiled and squeezed her hand in reassurance. "I'd just like to get to know you," he said. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, for the second time that evening. He tasted the same as he had an hour before; spicy, dangerous.
Sarah smoothed her hands over her sweater and swallowed nervously as Matthew stood up from his barstool, towering over her tiny frame. "I'll get your coat," he said, disappearing into the hot, crowded bar, squeezing between couples dancing close to the loud, pounding beat.
Sarah really wasn't this kind of girl, the kind of girl who goes to dark, noisy clubs, kisses strangers, and agrees to "go somewhere a little more quiet" with those strangers. She spent most of her days in the cool, orderly environs of her music library, and while a PhD in music history with an emphasis on baroque instrumentation would hopefully get her a plum research or teaching gig....it didn't get her far with men.
In fact, Sarah had slept with only two men, both long-term boyfriends, good, kind-hearted, loving men. Just last week, after two years, she'd broken it off with Samuel, a reedy, lily-white clarinetist she'd met in the stacks. She was sad, really she was.
But two brief kisses with this beefy new stranger Matthew had made her stomach clench and her panties moisten more than two years of clammy kisses from Samuel. The memory of Samuel's high-pitched cry when he came inside her, immediately followed by "are you okay? was that good for you?" still made Sarah wince.
Sarah was a good girl. She studied hard and braked for small animals and believed in sex with people you loved. But as long as she could remember, late at night under the covers with her fingers playing between her legs, Sarah had fantasied about big, strong, muscular, intimating men, men who pinned her to the bed with their huge hands and took what they wanted and never asked "are you okay?"
So when she showed up to this unfamiliar club for a friend's birthday and spotted Matthew in an adjacent booth, her whole body shivered and clenched and wanted. Just this once. 'Maybe...maybe if he notices me,' Sarah decided. And Matthew had.
And Matthew was here, now, holding her coat out for her like a perfect gentleman. 'Maybe we won't even have sex,' Sarah thought. 'He just wants to get to know me. He seems like an honorable guy.' Sarah shrugged on the soft white peacoat and took Matthew's outstretched hand, following him outside into the sharp fresh air and lightly falling snow.
Sarah bolted awake and realized she had dozed off in Matthew's little Corolla, lulled to sleep by the warmth of the heaters, Matthew's deep, resonant voice, his gentle caress of her hand with his big fingers, and, truth be told, the few-too-many jack and gingers she'd consumed at that bar. The sudden cessation of movement had startled her awake. "We're here, little bird," Matthew chuckled.
Sarah looked out the window to see, not the apartment building on a busy city street she was expecting, but a dingy, deserted motel, the kind where the door to each room exited onto a long, outdoor walkway, the kind that had a "vacancy" sign blinking. "This is where we're going?" she said, confused.
"Sorry about that," Matthew rumbled. "I haven't been able to stay in my apartment for a week, there were burst pipes. This was the only place my landlord was willing to pay for. It's not so bad."
Sarah experienced a moment of sudden fear. 'What am I DOING,' she thought. 'I don't even know this man. I don't know his last name. I don't know where I am. I'm going into an empty motel in the middle of the night with a perfect stranger. Oh god oh god what was I THINKING...'
Matthew seemed to sense her terror and took her comfortingly into his arms. "Hey now," he murmured, his big hands tucking the top of her head below his chin, then wrapping tight around her tiny waist. "If you don't want to stay, I'll take you home right now, no hard feelings. But I think you and I have something special...this feels so right."
Sarah nodded against the hard plane of his chest, and he took her face in his palms and raised her lips up to his. This kiss was hot, wet, and wanting, and when it ended she found herself up on her tiptoes, her whole body pressed into his. Matthew smiled, released her, and walked across the parking lot to the motel, Sarah scurrying along behind him.
Matthew unlocked a door and let it swing open, ushering Sarah in ahead of him. The room was lit only by a dim nightlight half hidden, so it took her eyes a long moment to adjust, to read the unidentifiable shapes in the room, draped over chairs and lounging on the bed, shapes that rustled and uncurled into huge, unquestionably manly forms. In the time it took her to register that the room was already occupied, Matthew had shut & deadbolted the door, wrapped one arm around her waist, pinning her arms to her side, and clamped over her mouth with one hand. Sarah's involuntary scream was effectively muffled and she heard chuckling reverberating around her throughout the room.
"Took you long enough, Matty boy," said a voice. "We were getting bored." Sarah squirmed and screamed and struggled in Matthew's arms. "But this looks like a good one," said another voice, and Sarah thought, panicking, 'how many are there. HOW MANY ARE THERE?!'"
Now listen closely, little bird," Matthew whispered, his hot breath close by her ear. "I brought you here so my friends and I could have a little fun. And if you are a good little girl, and stay quiet, and do what we ask, we can make this a lot of fun for you too." The hand around her waist slid slowly up and cupped her small breast. His thumb began to rub softly across her nipple, over and over, following the cadence of his words. She felt it through the fabric of her sweater, the fabric of her bra, that thumb rubbing softly back and forth, back and forth. "And if you scream and struggle and fight us, this won't be any fun for you at all. And I think we all deserve a little fun, don't you?" He blew into her ear, then bit her earlobe, gently. "Do you understand me?"
Sarah's heart was skittering madly in her chest. There was no escaping this room. There were four? - five? - innumerable men here to keep her quiet. Agreeing to her own rape, however terrifying, might be her best option. She nodded, haltingly, and Matthew took his hand away from her mouth.
"Let's see what she looks like," one of the men said, and she felt hands suddenly everywhere - lifting away her soft, baby blue sweater, pulling down the waistband of her jeans, tearing away her bra, her panties. It happened so quickly, and she was pushed around and shoved backwards, and within a matter of moments she was lying across a hard, lumpy motel room mattress, naked. The voices around her were approving - of her small, firm tits, of the hard expanse of her belly, of the soft rounding of her hips, of her full, swollen lips, of her tiny, delicate wrists and ankles, even her long, thin blonde hair, which one fellow took a handful of and roughly pulled back to get a better look at her face.
When she tried to cover herself, both hands were snatched roughly away and pinned to the bed. When she tried to close her legs, they were wrenched open and held there. "Let's see what she tastes like," said a voice, and she realized in a panic that it was his shoulders keeping her legs apart, his hot breath on her pussy, his tongue - oh god, his tongue - slipping between the lips of her pussy and licking a slow,wet path up to her clit. Sarah cried out and struggled against the men holding her down. The man between her legs used his hands to hold her thighs apart, and to spread her pussy lips even further, baring her most private parts to his active, eager tongue. "Oh god, stop, please," Sarah begged, but his tongue was flicking faster and faster at her hard little nub and she wasn't sure what she was begging for, but her hips were rising up off the bed towards his mouth, and she felt a wild, indescribable pleasure building low in her belly, and when he latched his mouth onto that little nub and sucked, hard, relentless, Sarah realized she was coming, coming violently, coming into the mouth of this total stranger, and overwhelmed, she started to cry.
"You have to try this Matthew, she's delicious," said the man, and she felt the bed move and shift beneath her. The shock of another tongue on her sensitive pussy so soon after the first was too much. "Please Matthew please, stop, please, I can't handle this." "Someone shut her up," commanded a voice - this one Matthew's, for sure this time, she thought, and she felt something long and hard and surprisingly velvet-soft shoved between her lips.
"Suck on this, little bird," the man laughed, and Sarah choked and gasped as he pressed the full length of his dick into her open mouth. At the same time, Matthew's tongue returned to caressing her wet little pussy. Where the first man's tongue had been narrow and pointed, and he had used the talented tip of it to pleasure her clit, Matthew's tongue was sandpaper-rough, and wide, and he used the flat of it to lick her pussy top to bottom, slow, luscious, long licks up and down until she was squirming and moaning around the dick in her mouth. Matthew pushed a finger into her pussy, then two, then three, pushing hard and fast and merciless inside her. When at last he took her clit into his mouth she exploded, gasping, into orgasm.
"I think she's good and ready," Matthew pronounced. "Who's first?" There was murmuring and bartering and good natured banter, and then she felt the huge weight of a man's body press her down against the bed. She felt his enormous penis press against her thigh, and then against her opening. 'Oh god, it's too big, it's too big,' she thought, struggling to close her legs, but the men chuckling around her kept her spread eagled, wide open.
Samuel had always entered her gently, cautiously, but his dick had been the size of a pencil eraser compared to the monstrosity that was sliding into her now. "Oh god, she's tight," the man groaned, and then slammed the rest of way into her. He gripped her hips tight as he pulled back out, and then slid right back in again.
Sarah had never experienced this feeling - of her pussy being completely filled, stretched to its limit with cock. She found herself moaning in time to his insistent thrusts, and when another dick was pressed between her lips, she swallowed and tongued and licked it without pause. "You're being a good little girl, aren't you," the man between her legs said approvingly, and as though to reward her, his palm slid over her belly, damp with sweat, and he pressed the hard, callused pad of his thumb against her clit.
Sarah gasped with pleasure, and began to move her hips in time with his. The man in her mouth came first, his cum spilling over her lips and cheeks, and Sarah followed soon after. Last was the man between her legs who pumped his enormous dick harder and faster and deeper until with a shout, he spurted deep inside of her.
"You picked a sweet ride, Matthew," the man said, ruefully, as he pulled his softening dick away from Sarah. "Give her a try yourself!"
Sarah was slippery with cum and sweat but the men successfully repositioned her, lifting her up and over Matthew, who had taken her place prone on the lumpy mattress. He gripped her hips and pulled her down roughly into his lap, his hard, thick cock impaling her unexpectedly, and she yelped, eliciting laughter from the men around her. "You got her sopping wet for me, man," Matthew grunted, his big hands grasping at Sarah's hips, his cock spearing her deeper and deeper with every thrust.
There was another man behind her now, which made her nervous, but his long, elegant fingers were playing with the soft skin of her breasts, toying with her nipples, pressing into her belly button, and then delving between her legs. The pressure of his fingertip against her clit as Matthew slammed his cock inside her drove her wild. As she felt the frantic sensation of oncoming orgasm take over, the fingertip of his other hand crept behind her and slid gently, but determinedly, into her tiny puckered asshole. The next time Matthew brought her down hard on his cock, simultaneously he impaled her ass with that long, elegant finger.
Sarah cried out and tried to squirm away, but Matthew had a firm grasp on her hips. Sooner than she might have guessed, the rhythm of both finger and cock driving in and out of her from both sides, and the continued pressure on her clit, had her gasping and moaning into yet another (her third? fourth?) orgasm.
As she came to her senses, she realized that insistent finger had been removed and something much larger was pressing into her little asshole. Hands shoved her down so that her breasts were smashed against the hard plane of Matthew's chest. "Please, no, not there, I'm begging you, I've never - " but her cries were cut off by Matthew's mouth, and he kissed her hard, his tongue licking and lapping at hers as an erotic reminder of where it had been earlier that evening, his hands clutching either side of her head as the dick behind her slid steadily, firmly, all the way into her ass.
After the briefest of pauses, they both began to fuck her, two huge, hard cocks sliding in and out in unison, two deep male voices grunting and moaning in pleasure, two - or more than two - sets of hands on her tits, her waist, pulling at her hair, slapping her bottom, as those cocks filled her over and over again....
The rest of the night was a soggy blur. She wasn't sure how many men took her that night; whether it was the same four men coming back for seconds and thirds, or whether the room was more full than she had realized in that first panicked glance.
At once point there was a bright flash, maybe of a car's headlights passing by, or a camera, but her mouth and hands and pussy and ass were full of cock and she took no real notice of it.
When Sarah woke up her body was bruised and sticky with dried cum and sweat, some hers, mostly others'. And she was alone. She was tangled in dirty sheets, naked, and the sun was streaming in the window - 'it must be afternoon,' she thought wearily, 'and I should have been at the library hours ago.'
When she stood up she nearly fainted - her legs were shaky and weak, and her head was spinning. She walked into the dingy motel bathroom and turned on the shower. She tried to rinse away the memories of the night with the crusted sweat and cum. 'What a terrible, terrible thing that has happened,' she thought, but even as she tried to convince herself of this, her fingers were sliding into her raw and aching pussy, two fingers, three fingers, four, trying to replicate the sensation of the enormous cocks that had made her pussy so sore.
Her underwear was missing but her jeans and sweater were still there. She located her purse and when she opened it to find her cell phone, there was something new inside.It was a polaroid photo. It was clearly her face, her eyes half-closed, but it was impossible to identify the hands and fingers and cocks that surrounded her, invaded her, filled her.
Months went by. Sarah knew it made no sense, but she found herself researching local sports teams, scanning online rosters, searching for Matthew's broad, handsome face, or just hoping for some jolt of familiarity in the faces she scanned.
Sarah's friends didn't understand why she kept wanting to go back to that meat market of a club, the one where she met that big blonde guy, and really, nothing happened? Are you sure?
So eventually Sarah would sit at the bar by herself, sipping jack and gingers as she watched the door and waited.
Sitting at that bar was where she met Jake, a tall, thin computer science nerd who had studied at Harvard. Jake was the perfect guy - always caring, devoted, gentle. The first time they slept together she was disappointed by his size...but not surprised.
After a year or so he haltingly confessed his secret sexual fantasy, and she dutifully dug her schoolgirl outfits from high school out of the closet. When he asked her fantasies in return, the image of that polaroid sprung immediately to mind, but she made up something softer...and when Jake gamely pulled her hair the next night it was so timid and ineffective she nearly started to laugh.
The next day she pulled the polaroid from its hidden spot inside the pages of a dusty old musical exercise book, and for maybe the thousandth time, as she stared at her image in the photo, her half-closed eyes and wide open mouth and the sweat on her skin and the strain of her arms and legs, she masturbated furiously. 'I'm not that kind of girl,' Sarah thought as she came. 'I'm not.'