From alt.sex.stories Tue Apr 16 08:09:47 1996
Message-ID: <071303Z15041996@anon.penet.fi>
Path: nienor!sauveur!fub!fu-berlin.de!golden-gate.owl.de!uni-paderborn.de!news.rwth-aachen.de!genesis.westend.com!news.gtn.com!osn.de!noris.net!blackbush.xlink.net!news.ecrc.de!news.sprintlink.net!new-news.sprintlink.net!EU.net!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an17424@anon.penet.fi (SlutTV)
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: an17424@anon.penet.fi
Date: Mon, 15 Apr 1996 07:12:26 UTC
Subject: SlutTV Story: Gangrape
Lines: 199



=================================================================
In the spirit of SweeTV and her great set of stories,
I present a series of vignettes under the name SlutTV.

These stories chronicle the fictional adventures of Tiffany,
a slutty TV with a taste for extreme sexual activities.

Some of the stories are sweet, romantic seductions, with
tasteful clothes, gentle settings, and thoughtful men.

Some of them are graphic tales of extreme SM, with bondage,
pain, and rape involved.

All of the stories appear non-consensual on their face,
but are they really?
=================================================================

It started out like any other night on the town.

Tiffany was just out to show off, and have a good time wearing a
short skirt and high heels at the local TV club.

Tonight, though, I went a little farther than usual.  I had bought some
new things, and I was dying to show them off.

I wore my latex rubber corset: pitch black, very tight, and very heavily
boned from top to bottom.  It was smooth enough not to show under dresses,
and tight enough to make me look like I had natural breasts, even let them
jiggle a little.  The corset held up some sheer black seamed stockings
with little sparkly rhinestones woven in.

The centerpiece of my outfit was my new dress. Made of a heavy midnight
black spandex/velvet blend, it was sleeveless with, a halter-style top,
a sweetheart cut-out neckline, and a 3" rhinestone "collar" for a neck.

The waist was incredibly tight, but the skirt was slightly pleated and
flared out to swish around.  The swish ended about 4 inches below my ass,
a good 2 inches above my stockings.

It was sort of a parody of a formal cocktail dress.

OK, it was a hooker dress.

Normally, it was too small for me. But it fit perfectly now, since the
corset shrank my waist so much. When I stood, you could see my stocking
tops clearly beneath the hem.  When I sat down, the skirt lifted up
completely so you could see my panties. Well, you would have seen them
if I had been wearing any. Instead, you could see my bare ass.

I had accesorized the dress with some long dangly rhinestone earrings,
a wide rhinestone bracelet on each wrist, and a rhinestone anklet.

To finish the effect, I was wearing my tallest pair of shoes: black
patent ankle strap sandals with 6" metal-spiked heels.  They were
clearly fuck-me shoes, and thus a perfect match for the dress.

There was no chance I would be mistaken for a woman. Dressed like this,
I clearly looked like a hooker.

I was delighted.

It was going to be a good night. With any luck, tonight would be the night
I'd pick someone up at the club. I was still a "virgin", but every time
I strutted my stuff, I got closer and closer.

What I really wanted was to turn on a man so much that he'd take me. And
I mean *TAKE* me. I wanted to feel his hands clasp my arms, draw me toward
him, and plunge his manhood into me.

Maybe tonight would be the night. I kept hoping, and I kept dressing more
erotically, more explicitly. Eventually, someone would want me.


I drove into the city, and scoured the area for a parking space. I decided
that I wanted to flash a little before getting to the club, so I parked
about 10 or 15 blocks away. It would also give me a chance to get used to
these shoes again; I hadn't worn them in a while.

It worked. I saw a few men watching me appreciatively as I walked by. Since
it was time for many of the theaters in the area to start their shows, the
crowd on the street was was elegant. Yum.

The crowd at the club was a little thinner than usual. I don't know why.
The weather was fine; a perfect spring night in fact. People just didn't
seem to want to be out.

But I was determined to socialize with someone.

I mingled for a while, chatting with a few people, and finally just sat
down at a stool in the middle of the bar. I was sitting there sipping my
drink when Bill came up to me. His line didn't waste any time.

"Hello, gorgeous. I like your dress. I'd like it even more if you'd stand
up and model it for me."

He was tall, reasonably handsome, and seemed interested in me. We talked,
drank, flirted, and danced until closing.  Unfortunately, no matter how
much I tried to, I couldn't persuade him to take me home with him.

Oh, well, I'd be going home alone. Again.

Which was too bad.

Bill had made me really horny. I guess I'd have to just go home to put a
plug inside myself and masturbate to an exploding orgasm. Again.


Starting the walk back, I realized the problem with parking so far away.
I was tired, and just wanted to get back to my car.

After about 5 blocks, I heard a wolf whistle. Some guy was on the other
side of the street, admiring me as I passed. He was very tall, maybe
6'4", and really well built.

Maybe it was my horniness from flirting with Bill all night, or maybe it
was the alcohol, but I couldn't resist giving him a little show to turn him
on. I spun around on my heels, flaring my skirt out to show my ass.

He just smiled.

I was almost thinking to myself that I should go over to him. After flirting
with Bill, I was horny enough that I'd almost pay him to fuck me.

But I decided to play it safe. I didn't know who he was or what he wanted.
Smiling back, I straightened up, and continued my walk to the car.

Suddenly three more men were in front of me, and one of them had a knife.

"Gimme your purse, whore!"

Before I could even hand it over, one of them grabbed it and started
looking through it.

I didn't have much in it. My license, maybe $10, a couple of condoms,
some lube, and my handcuffs.

Oh, god. I'd brought my handcuffs with me tonight!

As the spotter walked over from across the street, the one fishing through
my purse held up my handcuffs.

"Look what the little whore has. Does the whore like her tricks to tie her
up when she gets fucked?"

One of the others slid his hand under my skirt, and announced,
"This whore isn't wearing any panties. But she does have a cock.
She's a little boy-whore. She dresses really nice for a boy."

They grabbed me, and pulled me down the alley.

I was terrified. But I was still horny as hell, and hard enough to prove it.

One of them bent me over, lifted my arms up behind me, and handcuffed them
to a fire escape grating. I was now helpless, bent over at a 90 degree angle
with my arms held captive above me

The first one unzipped his pants, smeared a little lube in my ass, and
plunged his dick into me.

My fears were borne out.  I was being gang-raped by four men.

Why was I so turned on?

Easy. This was what I secretly longed for. I wanted men to take me, to
put their dicks inside me.

And now they were.

A second one unzipped, and put his dick in my mouth.

"Suck it nice, boy-whore."

I sucked it for all I was worth, feeling my dick straining to get even 
harder than it already was.

The first two came, filling me with their hot cream. As soon as they
pulled out, the next two pushed in, fucking me even harder.

The one in my ass came first, and pulled out. The one in my mouth kept
pumping into my face. When he let go his load into my mouth, I couldn't
take it any more.  I came myself, spurting gobs of cum onto the pavement.


After they all pulled up their pants, one of them pushed the keys to
my handcuffs into my hand so I could unlock myself.

As they started walking away, I called after them,

"I'll be at the club again next Saturday."

I couldn't wait to wear this dress again.

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