Vicky enjoyed the afternoon pool party, at least the swimming part, but afterwards it went downhill for her. Everybody changed back to their street clothes and went inside for a buffet supper, which was followed by music for dancing. The party was hosted by Estelle, whom Vicky knew through the publishing company where they both worked, and Estelle’s parents had money. Consequently, the liquor flowed freely and that’s where Vicky got turned off. She found herself being hit on repeatedly by inebriated and/or horny young men. Being hit on was nothing new for Vicky, who, at 22, had developed into a far-above-average California blonde with a pert face and a stunning figure – but four boring approaches in half an hour was too much.
She thought of just leaving, but the pool, now glistening in the moonlight, caught her attention. It was deserted and Vicky decided that an evening swim, all by herself, would be peaceful. So she slipped out through the patio door, walked to the poolside cabana, and changed back to her bikini swimsuit.
Soon she was doing laps in the tepid water, while her thoughts returned to Doug. They had started dating casually, but all too quickly Doug had wanted more intimacy than she was ready to give, and she became bothered by the typical question that haunts a beautiful girl: Is he interested in me or just my body? Doug seemed to feel that she “owed him” sex as part of their relationship. After a few weeks of fending off Doug’s insistent attempts to get her to bed, Vicky told him she just wasn’t on his wavelength and she wanted out – at least for a while. Doug wasn’t too pleased at this news, but he had no choice. Now Vicky was free again, but she did have a sense of loss.
Suddenly she also had the sense that she was no longer alone. Five young men had gathered at the edge of the pool and were looking intently at her as she stood waist-deep in the water. Uncomfortable, she decided it was time to leave.
But it was not to be. The men exchanged a silent signal and slipped into the pool. They were not even wearing swim trunks, just casual shorts. They quickly surrounded Vicky. One of them, a big blonde surfer type, smiled in a friendly way, but his eyes were not smiling. In fact, they were focused on Vicky’s well-rounded bikini top.
The surfer wasted no time on formalities. “Nice flotation equipment you’ve got there. May I?” It was not really a request. He reached for her breasts and squeezed them. “Take your hands off me, you filthy creep,” Vicky flashed. The surfer shook his head sadly. He removed his hands from her breasts, placed them on her shoulders, and pushed her below the surface of the water. Vicky thrashed desperately, but the guy was strong and he held her firmly down. Vicky had not even had time to inhale before being forced under and she was in agony as well as being completely terrified.
Finally he let her up but his hands maintained their firm grip on her shoulders. He got right to the point. “Are you going to cooperate?” Vicky thought about screaming for help, but she knew she would not be heard by the party-goers inside the music-filled house. She also realized that if she uttered one cry she’d be pushed under again, maybe for an even longer time.
“What do you want?” she asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. “Oh, nothing much – just a little guy-type fun” was the casual response. She ventured, “If you’ll only –” But she was quickly interrupted. “Look, miss – what’s your name?”
“Vicky.”
“Look, Vicky, I’m not much on conversation. Just answer my question. Are you going to cooperate?” This was accompanied by a strong message in the form of downward pressure on her shoulders.” She had no choice.
“Yes.”
“Good decision. Now for that flotation equipment of yours.” Her bikini top was tied at her neck and back with simple bow knots. His hands moved quickly and in an instant the top was floating in the pool. The surfer regarded her exposed breasts with admiration, while the other men whistled and made rude comments.
His hands moved again, this time to grasp her breasts and fondle them with casual insolence, while Vicky, intensely humiliated, had to stand unresisting, her hands at her sides. Soon she sensed something behind her and felt the ties on her bikini bottom being undone. Next, her bare buttocks were being groped. A voice at her back said, “Hey – nice ass!” “Really? Let’s have a look,” said the surfer.
He swung her to the edge of the pool, hoisted her and bent her over face down so her legs dangled in the water and her buns made an inviting target. “Hmm, you’re absolutely right. Nice cunt also.”
He pushed her legs apart, squeezed her buns and then began exploring her pussy. She felt his finger go inside and knew there would be more to follow. Despite her terror, her mind drifted back to Doug. She had refused him, a nice enough guy, and now she was going to be penetrated by this hoodlum. No, more likely by all the hoodlums. How many? She mentally recalled them. There were five of them. Five!
More than the rear invasion awaited her. One of the men scrambled out of the pool, pulled off his shorts, and sat down facing her, cradling her with his legs. She had a very close view of his penis, which was totally erect. “Suck it!” he commanded. At that moment, she felt her pussy being entered, this time not by a finger. She winced at the pain of the thrusting member. “I said suck it!” repeated her other tormenter, who then laughed nastily and said, “It’ll take your mind off what’s happening at your other end.”
He grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head painfully up, inching forward until his cock was right under her mouth. “You got a choice. Taste my cock or taste the pool water when we’re done with you.”
Again, it was not a real choice. He lowered her head and she opened her mouth to receive his cock. When it was in her mouth, she didn’t know what was expected of her – she had never done this before – but the cock’s owner gave her explicit instructions. “Move your mouth up and down on it and lick it at the same time. Give me lots of action. When I come, swallow it.”
Her disgust at this degrading activity was matched by her loathing and pain of the rape that was also taking place. It was something of an irony that both men came at almost the same instant, and it was difficult to tell which was worse – the spurting in her vagina or the eruption in her mouth. Disregarding part of her instructions, she spat out the semen.
“I told you to swallow it. Now lick it up and swallow it!” She licked it up and swallowed it. She was totally in the power of these cruel young men. If she did not do what they wanted, she knew it would be even worse for her.
The men took turns – one at her rear, another with his cock in her face. She had a hope that the men who had come in her mouth would be through with her, but they recovered their powers easily to take their places behind her. So she serviced each man twice, once vaginally and once orally. After a while her mind became dulled somewhat to the ordeal, but her vagina was becoming increasingly sore. At one point she pleaded for a rest. The response was a series of sharp whacks on the buttocks, with the promise of more if she didn’t stop whining.
Vicky, a proud, lovely young woman, degraded and whining.
Finally the rotation was complete. She had been raped five times while performing oral sex five times. The men helped her up and solicitously led her to one of the chaises. The surfer found a Coke on one of the patio tables and handed it to her. “Here – rinse your mouth out.” Feeling a touch of gratitude, she rinsed out the sticky cum that lined her mouth.
The gratitude was not to last. At a signal from the surfer, one of the others lowered the back of the chaise. Vicky was pushed down so she was lying flat. What was going on? It quickly dawned on her. She was going to be raped again – this time frontally!
She started to protest, even beg, but again it was useless.
The surfer mounted her first and now he demanded that she give him sexy kisses, with her tongue all the way in his mouth, as he shoved his cock into her aching pussy and squeezed her breasts. So this was why they so kindly gave her the Coke. They didn’t want to taste their own cum. Now her mouth was fresh for their exploring tongues.
There was also exploring of another nature. One of the men slid under the chaise, which had an aluminum fame and plastic webbing. He stuck an index finger through the webbing, into the crack of her ass, and located her anus. He thrust the finger into the rectal cavity and probed around.
Vicky’s involuntary reaction was to arch her body upward in an attempt to evade the invasive finger. This caused her pelvis to push up against the surfer’s cock, unintentionally adding to his pleasure. “Yeah, keep doing that, Weasel,” he called to the man below. “She’s really putting out now!” “Sure thing – I like it, too!” came the response from under her.
And so it went – Vicky assaulted frontally, forced to French kiss, and molested anally, all at the same time. After four men had brutalized her, the surfer called out, “Okay, Weasel, it’s your turn.” Weasel slid out from under the chaise and climbed on top of her. He was particularly repellent, a runty scarecrow with a bad complexion, teeth to match, and a thoroughly nasty disposition. As he pushed his surprisingly large cock into Vicky he brought his face close to hers, his ugly mouth open, tongue protruding expectantly. Despite her attempts to avoid antagonizing her captors, she instinctively turned her head away in disgust.
Weasel’s ugly face became savage with anger. “You kissed my friends, right? RIGHT?” He shook her roughly. “Yes.” “So you’ll kiss me, too – even better than the other guys!” He held a smelly index finger to her nose. “This is the finger that’s been up your ass. If I don’t like the way you put out, I’ll put this finger up your cunt and into your mouth. So PUT OUT!”
He planted his mouth on hers and his breath was as putrid as she expected. But she did not want that grubby finger to go where Weasel had threatened to put it. By a supreme effort of will she made her lips and tongue give Weasel kisses that were more deep, more intimate, more passionate than she had ever given before. While she was putting out in this way, Weasel expressed his appreciation by pinching her nipples most painfully and thrusting his cock as deeply as he could into Vicky’s wounded vagina.
When he was done, he turned in triumph to the others. “See how I got her to put out for me?” he crowed. “I know how to handle these cunts!”
“Yeah, Weasel, you’re an inspiration to us all,” the surfer said sardonically. “Now you can take the paper napkins on that table and dip ’em into the pool.” Weasel did as he was told and returned with the dripping napkins. “What’ll I do with them?” he asked. “You can shove ’em up your ass – or better yet, shove ’em up this lady’s cunt.” Weasel stared uncomprehendingly. The surfer sighed. “Clean her up, Weasel.” “Oh – yeah.”
Weasel parted Vicky’s legs and swabbed her out. How considerate, Vicky was thinking. They are also getting rid of DNA evidence. But they left their saliva in my mouth. The surfer handed her the Coke can. “Rinse,” he ordered, like a dental hygienist. Vicky rinsed – thoroughly, under the surfer’s watchful eye. They are real pros, Vicky thought. Probably go from one house party to another, looking for vulnerable females. It looks like they’re through with me now.
Almost. The surfer knelt beside her and, idly massaging her sore breasts, delivered a message. “Vicky, if you have any idea of complaining to the cops, consider this. We have friends – guys who are not as gentle as we are. If we are arrested, they will grab you. They won’t duck your head in any pool, they’ll duck it into a toilet, after they have pissed and shat into it. What doesn’t go down your throat will go up your cunt. But that’s after you have experienced their kind of turn-ons, which consist of applications of electricity, a hot poker – you can guess where – and certain chemicals. We might have inconvenienced you a little with our horseplay, but you are still a pretty girl. When these guys get through with you, you won’t be pretty anymore, ever. So let’s keep out little party to ourselves, okay?”
Without waiting for an answer, the surfer nodded to the others and they started putting on their shorts. Two wet things landed on Vicky’s naked body. They were her bikini top and bottom. I wonder if I’m supposed to say “thanks,” Vicky thought. As the men melted away, she managed to put on her swimsuit. Then she fell back onto the chaise and blacked out.
“Vicky. Vicky.” She was being shaken gently into consciousness. Estelle stood over her. “Vicky, honey, are you okay? A little too much to drink?” Yeah, pool water, semen, and a Coke chaser, Vicky thought. “Everybody’s gone home,” Estelle continued, “but you’re welcome to stay over.” Vicky shook her head. “You don’t look so good, Vicky. I hope you had a good time.”
Now I know I’m through with Doug. If I ever have another man in my life, it won’t be someone who demands sex as a right.
“Vicky?”
“Yes,” said Vicky. “I had quite a time.”

-end-

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