“No!” I tried to scream, but nothing came out by a muffled sob. I could feel vomit rising in my throat. Panicking at the thought of drowning in my own vomit with the ball gag in place, I forced it back down.
Instead, I tried to block out the rest of James’s explanation of what he planned to do to my ass tonight. More people arrived. I could hear the rattle of an ice chest among other sounds. I didn’t know if it was better or worse that I couldn’t see what they were doing.
“Holy, fucking hell!” another new voice that sounded slightly familiar said. “It’s Professor Lilith. This fucking cunt failed me in Freshman Comp a couple of years ago. Nearly lost my scholarship due to her.”
“Isn’t she the one whose tits you always talked about?” someone asked.
“Sweet Jesus, yes. She always wore these tight blouses that strained over her tits like the buttons might pop, and she keep them unbuttoned so low enough that could always see her sweet cleavage peeking through. You should have seen the interesting things her tits did when she breathed. Most days I had to leave classes carrying my backpack in front of me. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to get my hands on those tits.”
“Now’s your chance, Robbie, my boy,” Jamil said. “We still have setting up to do. Grab the bitch’s hair, yank her upright, and her tits are yours to explore. James, let Robbie at the whore. You’ll have plenty of chances to fuck her ass for the cameras.”
I tried to scream again, as James moved away, and someone yanked me upright by the hair. “Hey, professor, remember me,” Robbie asked, as his hands closed on my tits, squeezing hard. I tried to look at him, but the bright spotlights in my face stopped me from getting a good look. “God, your tits fill my hands even more fully than I dreamed they would.” He squeezed hard enough that it became painful, then he let go and began rubbing my nipples, which were rock hard because of the cold. He pinched both of them hard, stretching and twisting them. After the beating my Master had made me give my tits earlier, Robbie’s abuse hurt so much that another muffled scream escaped from behind my gag. “And now Professor Lilith, you’re going to be a big star in your very first flick. Frat Boys Do Ass.”
“That’s a stupid title,” someone objected.
While Robbie squeezed and twisted my nipples and tits, he argued with two other men about appropriate titles for the film of my ass rape they were about to make.
I closed my eyes and told myself that this wasn’t really happened. I was home in my warm bed sleeping beside my husband. But the cold, the growing pain in my tits, and Robbie’s erection pressed against my ass wouldn’t let me believe that lie.
With all the sounds of coming and going I had no idea how many frat boys were now gathered to rape my ass. At least ten, I was certain. Maybe more. Maybe twice that many.
After Robbie had abused my tits awhile, one of the others objected. “You can’t have the professor’s tits all to yourself. Let me have a turn.”
“All right.” Robbie agreed with a final vicious twist of my nipples. He let go, and new hands replaced his. But the new hands on my tits squeezed and twisted just as cruelly as Robbie had.
As the sounds of setting up continued behind me, one pair of hands replaced another and another and another. My tits, especially my nipples, throbbed with pain as one frat boy after another abused them while pressing his erection against my ass and telling me how much he looked forward to fucking it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I tried to stifle them as I grew afraid I wouldn’t be able to breathe through the snot.
I don’t know how much time passed before Jamil called out, “Everything’s ready.”
Whoever had his hands of my tits let go and pushed me back down until I was hanging over the rail again. “Let’s do this!”
“Shouldn’t we give thanks, first,” James asked.
Jamil snorted. “You want to pray for God’s blessing over a rape?”
“Not God’s,” James answered. “Everyone, bow your heads now. You’ll see. Repeat after me.” Some of the others snickered as James lead them through a thoroughly blasphemy version of the Lord’s Prayer, the entire group repeating each line after him.
“Oh Pinkman, who art in town,
Hallowed be thy Cock.
Many each cock cum as
Pinkman’s whore is ass fucked,
As she was in mouth.
Give us this day cocks most hard.
And to fuck the whore’s ass,
As we have longed envisaged doing.”
“What the fuck does envisaged mean?” one of them asked.
“Shut up. You’re being disrespectful,” another answered.
“And as we succumb to temptation,
Deliver our cum most forcefully.
For tonight Pinkman’s whore is ours,
Although she belongs to him
For ever and ever.
Fucking hell! Let’s do her!”
The last line of the mock prayer was greeted with loud cheering, and I wished I was dead. I can only think, “Oh, God, why has thou forsaken me?”
Leave a Reply