A Short, Sharp Lesson

Cynthia was miserable. She knew it was her fault but she couldn't help herself. Jeff was a great husband. She couldn't wish for anyone better and she loved him so much but it was just…just the physical side of their relationship she had trouble with.

They had both been brought up as strict Catholics and except for allowing him to touch and stroke her breasts and touch her 'down there' on the outside of her clothes during their engagement they had both refrained from going any further. That wasn't to say they both didn't want to, but their religious upbringing was too strong to overcome.

That's why their wedding night and all the nights since had been a disaster. In the five weeks since the wedding she just hadn't been able to make herself relax enough to allow them to consummate their marriage. At first Jeff had been understanding and had held her in his arms and had told her it didn't matter that in time things would get better. But in time things didn't get better. In fact they had become worse.

Jeff had become withdrawn and had started to treat her casually, as if they were sharing the apartment as friends and not as a married couple. She had tried her best but the discomfort as he had tried to ease his cock into her and the thought of the pain to come was too much for her to take.

In public they were still the same loving couple. Forever touching each other on their arms or hands or faces. But in the privacy of their bedroom they were strangers.

She looked at her watch as the queue shuffled slowly forward towards the counter. An hour to go before her dental appointment. Still plenty of time. An old woman was arguing with the cashier about the amount of money she should have in her account, which wasn't what the bank said she had, and for a moment Sandra smiled as she listened to the conversation. Her own problems momentarily forgotten.

She glanced over to where Jeff usually sat and saw that his desk was vacant. Strange, she thought, I wonder where he could be. When he had been appointed the youngest manager in the banking group and had been given this small branch to run as his first step up the corporate ladder Sandra had been proud. Proud that she had fallen in love with a man who was obviously destined for great things. Even the move out here from the city wasn't too bad if she thought of it as a stepping stone upwards.

"Right ladies and gentlemen. Stay calm and do not make a noise." The voice was almost conversational in tone. Loud enough for everyone to hear but not threatening in any way. More like an announcement being made on a tanoy somewhere. She looked casually around and suddenly her heart leapt in her chest. There were five men standing around the walls of the bank. Three were carrying shotguns. The blinds on the windows and door had been drawn shut and the 'closed' sign turned to face the outside.

"Stay calm if you please," continued the tall man standing by the door, "this is a robbery and the quicker we have your co-operation the quicker we shall finish our business. Now will you all get down on the floor on your stomachs and stay there quietly. Arms and legs outstretched."

The lack of urgency in the man's voice and the soft tone dissipated any feelings of fear the six customers and the two girls behind the counter may have felt. The customers did as they were told with no fuss. Somewhere one of the men was talking softly into a mobile and a minute later the telephone on Jeff's desk rang. She heard Carol, one of the staff, say "Yes sir" and the next second she opened the door to the area behind the counter. The two men standing there immediately entered and began stuffing the bags they were carrying with money from the tills. One of the others, still carrying his shotgun, joined them and went up to the large old fashioned safe that stood like a relic from a bygone age in the corner by Jeff's desk.

After a few minutes Sandra, with her face lying against the cold tiles, heard a dull sound, like a soft impact against a bass drum. Then came the sound of footsteps and she found herself being lifted to her feet.

"Wha…what are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling in shock.

"Be quiet. You're coming with us as a hostage. A soon as we are away from here you'll be released. Do not make any sound or draw attention to yourself in any way."

The calm tone and the firm voice gave her the confidence to believe him and within minutes she was in the back of a pick-up truck being watched by one of the gang as she was carried away from the scene. After an hour she plucked up enough courage to ask, "When are you letting me go? You must be safely away by now."

The man opposite looked at her silently for a moment and then replied, "Soon, soon. We're just not taking any chances." Sandra felt a small tinge of apprehension. The man's voice seemed harsher somehow, more threatening. But she dismissed the feeling knowing that he was not the same person who had spoken in the bank.

Another thirty minutes and the truck drew to a halt. She heard large doors being slid open on runners and felt movement again as they drove forward a few yards and stopped. She heard the doors outside slide shut. The doors of the truck were opened and she was pulled roughly from the interior.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Growing fear made her shout.

"Shut up!"

"But you said you would let me…"

"I said Shut UP!"

She was taken over to a door that opened up into a small room with a single size bed as its only furniture. She was pushed in and the door shut and locked behind her.

Sandra was now terrified. She didn't need much imagination to know what could happen to her at the hands of these men and she could do nothing but sit huddled on the side of the bed holding her arms around herself. She looked at her watch constantly and was surprised at just how quickly the time was passing. And then after she had been locked in the room for just over two hours, the door opened and she was taken out into the larger room next door. The five men were sitting around on anything they could find. She saw the beer cans scattered about the floor and she saw the dark blue pick up truck with 'A Solomon – Flowers' painted on the side and she saw…she saw…"Jeff!" she screamed and ran over to the figure slumped in an old battered wooden chair.

"Jeff, Jeff," she cried, "what are you doing here? What have they done to you? Oh Jeff!"

"Hey. Wait a minute," said one of the men, "you mean you know this man?"

"Of course I know him," snapped Sandra, all fear forgotten, "he's my husband damn it! Jeff, Jeff, speak to me. Please say something." She cradled his swollen face gently in her hands as she anxiously studied the bruises, the puffed lips and the swollen, blackened eyes.

"Well, well, well," she heard the voice say, "this is going to be more interesting than I thought. Throw some water over the bastard. That'll bring him round."

Sandra was pulled away from her husband and could only watch helplessly as a bucket of water was poured over him. He stirred. Coughed, and looked around with half-closed eyes. He focussed on Sandra.

"Sandy?" he croaked, "what?…" a sharp slap across his badly bruised face quietened him.

"Shut up, we do the talking here.."

He pulled Sandra close to him and with one swift movement hooked his hand in the top of her white blouse and pulled sharply downwards. She shrieked as the buttons popped and the cloth was torn from her body leaving her exposed in her lacy, blue bra.

"Nooo!" the cry was dragged involuntarily from her throat as she covered her breasts with folded arms..

"And you can keep quiet as well. You will do exactly as we ask and you will do it willingly. Else we'll have some more fun with your husband."

Shocked, Sandra could only stand there, breathing heavily as she looked around at the faces staring at her and at her husband as he struggled feebly against the ropes that tied him to his chair. She was about to become the victim of any woman's nightmare. Rape. Her mind couldn't dwell on the word. She knew her position was hopeless.

She was pulled over to the small room again with the men crowding in behind her, two of them carrying Jeff's chair. 'Oh no,' she thought, 'not that. Please don't let them make him watch,' and she squeezed her eyes shut as two tears appeared in the corners.

"OK. We haven't got all day. Let's see your tits." Sandra was frozen to the spot. She found she couldn't move even if she had wanted to. She just stared wildly into the faces that surrounded her. "Come on, come on, hurry up!" the voice became impatient. Sandra was paralysed. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't move.

"Alright have it your own way," and he nodded to one of the men. Sandra heard the crunching blow and the low moan. She turned around quickly and saw the blood pouring from Jeff's nose as he slumped further into his seat.

"Stop it! Stop it!," she cried, "why are you hurting him like this. He's done nothing to you!." She screamed again as another blow caught her husband on the side of his brow forcing his head to snap sideways. "Noooo! Please don't hurt him any more. Please don't, please…"

"That's up to you isn't it?" came the harsh reply. Another blow against an already badly bruised face and Sandra covered her face in her hands moaning. She heard more water being poured over her husband and she heard the soft moaning sounds he was making as he regained consciousness. Sandra prayed silently, "Jeff, please forgive me, I will try just for you. Oh God I love you so much. I'll stop your pain and make it better. Please forgive me." Another blow spurred her into action.

Slowly she straightened up and put both hands behind her back. With her eyes shut she quickly unclasped her bra and let it drop to the floor. Behind her Jeff's torture came to a halt. As her full, round breasts bounced free she heard the sharp intake of breath from the watching men.

"Now the rest of it," came the command. Committed now she swiftly stripped off the rest of her clothes until she stood there naked before them. Tears ran down her cheeks and she couldn't stop herself from apologising silently to her husband and telling him how much she loved him. Even as she was made to lie on her back on the bed and open her legs wide she sent out messages of love to him.

One of the men climbed on top of her and took her hand to grasp his semi-rigid cock caught between their two bodies. She couldn't touch it. She had thought that she could do what these men wanted but now, as she felt the thickening tube of flesh against her palm, she snatched her hand away.

"Shit," said the man, "it looks as though she still needs to be convinced that we mean business," and Sandra heard more blows hitting badly damaged flesh.

"Alright!" she screamed, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Just leave him alone."

The sound of the beating stopped and she reached out and grasped the man's penis. It had already reached the limit of its size and to Sandra felt like an enormous rubber pipe ready to invade her body. The man moved slowly forward until the end of it pushed passed her labia and rested just inside her vagina. She went rigid. The man looked at her and opened his mouth to speak but she hastily pulled it forward again until she had fed more of it into her cunt. 'It's only a tampon, only a tampon,' she repeatedly thought, hoping that by saying it over and over again it would somehow, miraculously, become one of those objects that she happily inserted into herself once a month. But this was no tampon and the man, now bored with the slowness of her movements took a deep breath and thrust viciously all the way into her.

The pain made her go rigid. The dryness inside her made her feel she had been ripped open with a knife, To the rapist the shock was just as great. "Fuck me," he said to the others, "she's still a fucking virgin!" The others laughed. "No straight up. I'm telling you I'm the first one she's had up her pussy." He started to fuck her in earnest, determined to enjoy the breaking in of a new slut. He didn't bother asking why. He just accepted it. Sandra bit her lower lip as the pain increased with every motion. It was too great, she couldn't go through with it. She began to struggle. She began beating her fists against the man's broad back and kicking her legs wildly hoping to dislodge him.

The gang had done this before and what they all liked was a woman who did it willingly. Or at least was forced into doing it willingly. None of them liked to spend all their energy fighting a struggling woman. So trying to keep his position the man gasped out "Shit! Hit him again for chrissakes before I lose my hard on!"

Sandra heard further blows and groans and realised it was all so hopeless. Tears still running down her cheeks she forced herself to calm down and remain lying flat on her back as the man continued to rape her.

"Put your legs around me, cunt!" he screamed into her face and slowly, still finding each movement painful, she locked her ankles behind his waist. "That's better. Now push against me." She did what he ordered. Eyes tightly shut and making small grunting sounds as her breath was expelled explosively from her lungs. Then gradually the pain lessened and she felt it easier to take the thrusting cock as it pistoned in and out of her now soaking cunt. She felt a strange quivering sensation in her belly and lower down in her loins. Her eyelids fluttered against her cheeks as she felt strange, new sensations creep over her body. She began to moan.

"That's better bitch, now you're there," said the man as he speeded up his movements. Sandra felt warm all over. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy and the rippling sensation in her stomach increased its intensity. Suddenly her eyes opened wide in shock as she felt her womb being flooded by liquid. Thick, warm liquid. The man let out his breath in one long stream of acrid air and rolled off her naked, sweating body. She lay there panting but her respite was soon over as a second member of the gang mounted her and began fucking into her now accessible cunt. Without being asked Sandra clasped him to her body and began to make small thrusting motions of her own.

In theory she knew what an orgasm was but when she had her first one it hit without warning. Her head stretched back and the muscles in her neck stood out like cords as the deep, wild sensation overpowered her. She keened as the heat in her body intensified and the nerve endings of her abused body sent messages of pleasure up and down her naked flesh. So involved in her own pleasure she barely felt the second flooding of her womb, or the second man climb off her to let the third push his cock into her vagina. Her orgasm seemed to her to be continuous. All through the third rape she experienced explosions of lust and by the time the third had finished she was bathed in sweat and writhing like a mad woman on the bed.

She hardly felt the fourth man kneel between her splayed legs and, pulling her towards him and lifting her thighs onto his lap, push into her. And it was only vaguely that she knew a second man was straddling her chest. The cock in her cunt was thick and long. Larger than the others and almost before the thrusting began she experienced another orgasm that shook her to the core. Her whole being had surrendered to the pleasure she was experiencing and she no longer cared what they made her do. She had capitulated completely.

It was only with the slightest hesitation that she opened her mouth to allow the man on her chest, squashing her breasts, to feed his cock over her lips until it rested on her tongue. Then for the few minutes it took for the men to simultaneously ejaculate, she had a final body-shaking climax. She felt the final flooding of spunk. Her mouth was clogged with the salty emission and she swallowed each spurt as it filled her. Then both men rose and joined their companions next door. Her thighs were soaking with the seed of four men as it poured from her dilated vagina and her lips were white with the thin coating of semen left there as the cock had withdrawn from her mouth. And her need was still great.

Panting, not knowing what she was really doing, but following an overpowering physical instinct she lowered her right hand to her soft, puffy cunt lips. Eyes shut and moaning softly she inserted two fingers into herself and began to rub softly at her hard, erect clitoris as it throbbed continuously within her. As her hunger grew stronger her actions became more urgent and she squeezed and rubbed with a growing frenzy until, at last she reached her final and most exhausting orgasm. Then she drifted into sleep.

She awoke sometime later and not hearing any noise from the other room guessed that she and Jeff were now alone. She was sore and ached in every joint. As her memory returned she groaned in shame and the tears streamed down her cheeks. Then, glancing over to Jeff she pulled herself together and slowly, painfully, rose to her feet and went over to him. He had been badly beaten and was still unconscious. As she knelt beside him struggling to untie the knots of the ropes that held him securely to the chair she tried in vain to put the events of the last hour out of her mind. But even as she dragged him as carefully as possible over to the bed and manhandled him onto it, trying not to hurt him, her thoughts still went to the sensations she had felt during the rape and the sensations she still felt.

It was a vicious way to learn a lesson but she felt that things were going to be alright from now on between her husband and herself.