Perspective - Revisited

I gave him my secret address and told him to come on over to my "new place." He did, and he was shocked at its splendor, especially compared to the dump I used as my address blind. Then I told him all about my history, and in particular my history with Brian. I told him everything, except about the embezzlement.

Dylan is a good man, but he was shaken. "You've been raped, and then gang raped?" I began to cry, and he comforted me. I showed him the secret Internet link to my "happy gang bang." He took my computer, went to one of the bigger porn sites, and quickly discovered segments of it, 8 minutes at a time, were up on the site. I was in the "amateur" category. The porn site even used my real name, Samantha! I almost fainted. Dylan was disgusted, but he did not leave me. Instead he comforted me.

The best way to comfort me, if you're my lover, is by making love, and that's exactly what we did. While Dylan was comforting me with one of his better fucks, Brian burst into my bedroom. He picked up Dylan and threw him off me and across the room.

Dylan had served in the marines, and the man knows how to fight. Naked, he faced off with Brian. Dylan looked fierce, while Brian looked relaxed and was smiling. Brian had between 30 and 50 pounds on Dylan, was taller, and had a longer reach. It was really no contest.

Dylan was soon bound and tied, with a black eye and probably a broken nose. Brian left him naked, and then casually, slowly, undressed. I brandished a can of mace at Brian. Brian laughed.

"I own you, Samantha. Are you going to risk everything, knowing you can't stop me?" he calmly said. He was standing just out of reach of the spray of the can. "You won't be healed by the time you have to go to work on Monday, you know. Maybe Dan will give up on you and let you get hauled off to prison."

"Now be a good girl, Samantha. Lie on your back, and spread your legs. And put down that fucking can of mace, or I'll use it on you!" Brian spewed.

I put down the can. I lay on my back and spread my legs. As Dan watched, bound, tied, and injured, Brian climbed on me and once again stuck his long, thick cock inside me. I hated it. What I hated most about it is, that from a purely physical level (and certainly not a psychological one), Brian was a spectacular fuck.

Yes, he had the right equipment, but God, did he know how to use it! He wanted me to cum with him in front of Dylan. I knew that. He wanted to humiliate Dylan by forcing his woman to cum with another man during nonconsensual sex. He wanted to show me enjoying sex with him in front of my own lover.

Brian is a sick son of a bitch. I was determined not to let myself cum. But Brian not only manipulated his cock in magical ways, for the first time he actually supplemented his fucking with a massage of my clit.

If that were not enough, his other hand caressed my boobs. And then to top it off, he began to kiss me. I turned away so that he missed my mouth, but then he slapped my cheek so hard I thought he had probably knocked a tooth loose. I stopped resisting. He whispered, "Open your mouth bitch. Get into it."

We began to kiss while we fucked. The fucking, the clit massage, and the magnificent kissing with gentle tongue action, all combined to overwhelm me. His chest hair tickled my boobs. My orgasm arrived the way a tsunami attacks Japan. There was no way to hide it. I did not scream, as I often do when I orgasm, but my entire body shook and vibrated. I could not catch my breath, and for the first time in my life the strangest thing of all happened. I wet the bed.

Belatedly I realized I had squirted. I had heard that some women squirt. I did not know if it was a myth, or if such a thing ever really happened. I had seen it happen on porn sites, but it could easily have been faked. But now I knew it is a real thing. It's real, because it happened to me.

Dylan of course saw all of this. But it was not over. After Brian finally shot his load deep inside me, he looked over to Dylan who was as hard as a rock. Seeing his woman fucked this way, forced to have sex with this monster, and then watching her cum, had gotten him aroused. Well, that happens, I guess. Eros and the human mind are strange bedfellows.

Brian then began to ransack my room. "What are you looking for, Brian?" I asked, not especially wanting my room to be ransacked.

"Your dildo, bitch," he said. I gave it to him. He then tied me up, naked, sitting in a chair next to Brian. We were so close I could have played with Dylan's cock, if my hands had not been bound.

Brian took the dildo, and I braced for him to penetrate me with it. Yuck. But no, that was not his plan. Instead he used the dildo to sodomize my boyfriend's ass. I had to watch as Dylan got raped, screaming as it happened. Strangely, though, his cock stayed erect. Brian stopped, and repositioned me so that my mouth was only an inch away from the tip of Dylan's cock.

"Catch his spunk, bitch," he said to me.

Brian resumed raping Dylan's ass with the dildo and sure enough, after what seemed like an eternity, Dylan's cock exploded, and I opened my mouth to receive it all. At this point, Brian was hard again. He came over to me, and he untied me. He put me on all fours on the bed. He fucked me rear entry until I had a second orgasm, and then he pulled out and stuck his cock into my unfortunate asshole.

Neither Dylan nor I had received any lube, nor any preparation at all, and Brian's cock tore me up a bit as I screamed in pain. Undeterred, and perhaps even enjoying it, Brian just kept right on going. He lasted forever, or so it seemed. When he began to message my clit as he raped my asshole, I lost it a third time. This time my discipline was gone, and I screamed my orgasm oh-god-I'm-coming scream. I could not bear to look at Dylan after that.

I found the courage eventually, and looked over at Dylan. I could not believe it: he was hard again, just from watching his girlfriend get raped in the ass, and eventually coming. I admit it: I was a bit disgusted. But I loved Dylan and none of this was his fault. And I'm pretty damn kinky myself in my sexual tastes, so who am I to judge? But I knew this evening did not bode well for my future with Dylan.

Now Dylan had watched another man, a brutal, nasty man who sodomized him with his girlfriend's dildo, drive that same girlfriend to three separate orgasms, right in front of his tortured, brutalized body. I somehow knew it was over with Dylan. I tried mightily to repair things with him. I begged, I cajoled, I offered to do anything sexual he could have possibly wanted.

Dylan was bitter, humiliated, angry, and ashamed both of me and of himself. I begged. "What is your most secret desire? We'll do it, Dylan. Anything you ask. Anything," I said.

Dylan told me he wanted to see me humiliate myself by flashing my naked body. Unfazed, I merely said, "When and where, lover? For you, and for you alone, I'll do it."

Dylan's father is a dirty old man. Dylan knows that. He had his father invite over his friends for a fun evening of "titillating entertainment." He had me come over and do a strip tease. Dylan put on some bump and grind music, and I did a hyper sexy strip tease. I was damn good, if I do say so myself.

Once I was naked in front of these six lecherous, dirty old men, he asked his Dad what he wanted. "A blow job," was his Dad's answer.

I had said anything. I knew that. But this request was extreme. I pulled Dylan aside. "Dylan, I can't do this. I can't fellate your father. It's gross. Please don't ask this of me."

"If you love me, you will do as my father asks," came the reply.

I looked at Dylan. I had tears forming in my eyes. "You want to debase me? To humiliate me in front of your father and his friends? The man who will someday be the grandfather of our children? Why? Dylan, why?"

"You said you would do anything to keep my love. This is anything. Now do it, Samantha," he said.

Was this really my Dylan? The whole experience with Brian must have changed him. This was not the man I knew. The man I fell in love with would not have wanted his girlfriend to blow his own father.

I would have thought that the strip tease for his Dad and his Dad's friends was enough. At this point I should have said no. I know that now. But I felt guilty over what had happened to Dylan and I did not want to lose him. I complied.

Dylan wanted me on all fours while I blew his father. I was naked, due to my just completed strip tease. I took out his father's flaccid cock, and I nursed it back to life. It got big and hard. I was giving his Dad an excellent blowjob when Dylan surprised me by entering me rear entry. I was now fucking and sucking simultaneously in front of six old men and Dylan. In porn language, I was spit roasted. A father-son spit roast.

Dylan's Dad and Dylan himself shot their loads into me from both ends, fairly close in time to each other. Dylan's Dad was first. Then the other five old men got to feel me up all over, one at a time. One man had stripped, and he tried to stick his cock into me.

I got away, saying no. Dylan said, "No, Samantha. He wants to fuck you. Lie down, spread your legs, and welcome him in."

I looked at Dylan. He had become Dan. I realized there was no hope. I said, "No. This is enough. I'm done here." I did not have to do it.

It ended with me kissing each old man, while still naked. When we left, Dylan drove me home, still with me naked, and made me enter my apartment building naked, walking right past the doorman that way. I felt as if I were scum. I felt as dirty as a pig pen. How would I ever again face that doorman? I wanted to run to the shower and never leave it.

At the door of my apartment, where I was crying due to the whole experience, Dylan dumped me. I could not believe he could dump me right after what I had just done at his behest, but as it turns out, he really did dump me. That was the last I ever saw of Dylan.

My hatred of Brian rose to new heights. I was caught embezzling because of Brian's hacking of my computer. Dan now owned me, and he could enjoy my body with or without his friends whenever he liked. My lover Dylan and I were now history. All of it was due to Brian. It was all traceable directly to Brian. Okay, one exception: the embezzlement was all me.

But I never would have been caught had it not been for Brian. I had been very clever. Nobody would ever have known. I hated the asshole. The next time Brian came over to sexually use my body, I was prepared. I had a knife and I had mace. I was ready to slice him up to defend myself.

Brian was just too fast, too strong, too determined, and most of all too clever for me. My knife gone, my mace gone, and my clothes gone, I tried with all my might to get away. I looked around frantically for a weapon. I found none. Brian then slugged me in the jaw, hard, and I guess I passed out.

I'm not sure for how long I was out, but when I awoke I was naked on my stomach, on my bed, and I was being raped. I pretended I was still unconscious. Brian was raping me. Dylan was not there, of course, so Brian no longer cared if I came or not. He pulled out and shot his load on my back.

I still pretended to be unconscious, but then another man climbed onto me! He rolled me onto my back, teasing my nipples while he too fucked me. Whoever it was, he eventually shot his load deep inside me, the bastard. Apparently satisfied, the two of them left. When I was sure they were gone, I opened my eyes.

There was a note taped to my stomach. It said, "Thanks for the good time. Mark and Brian." I had been fucked twice while the two men thought I was unconscious. How disgusting is that?

I could not help myself. I cried. There is only one man who always comforts me, without fail. He is the only man in the world who can do that. I went to the kitchen and went to his hiding place. He graciously came out of my special hideaway to work his magic. I love you, Johnny Walker, I thought to myself, as I toasted solitude. Being alone is so precious.

If only it would last. Not much chance of that. "What do you think, Johnny?" I asked aloud. Johnny was silent. Johnny always knew the best thing to say. In this case, the best answer was to say nothing, nothing at all. Instead he gave me, in all simplicity, a warm, yummy feeling in my throat. No other man could do that.