Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

When he pulled out he slapped my ass hard. It hurt, of course. A red handprint was still visible the next day. "Courtney, that was the best fuck you ever gave me. Almost makes up for all the shit you put me through." I had invited Frank and the guys over, in part, to get them some closure. Now I felt that even if all my plans fell apart horribly, at least Frank got his.

Frank turned to Vincent, "You're up, Bud."

Vincent took his place. He bent low so that only I could hear him, "I think you may remember, I'm a little bigger than Frank. I hope when I stretch your sweet asshole it hurts even more.

I wasn't going to get my satisfaction. With one word I could put an end to this. But then poor Frank's satisfaction would evaporate too. Furthermore, now I wanted Vincent to get his too. In my best imitation of Courtney's voice that I could muster, I yelled loud enough for him to just hear over the radio: I said exactly what she would say in my place, "Screw yourself, Bastard, I hope your tiny dick falls off. There's a reason I cheated with Mag."

Vincent didn't have any trouble finding my gooey cum slicked hole. His dick was considerably thicker than Franks and he penetrated my ass to the hilt in one fell swoop. It didn't hurt like that first time, but he was damn right about it stretching. While he was stabbing me he just kept saying, "Bitch. Bitch. Bitch." Each stab was in sync with his words.

Between each hateful utterance his breath came in jagged gasps of sexual pleasure. Near the end he said, "Your pussy, and now your sweet ass, was the best fuck I ever had but I still wonder if it just didn't make me a horse's ass."

He kept up a staccato rhythm for ten minutes or so before adding to the pool of slime filling my insides.

In my plans I had wanted the guys to have their way with Court. In my mind she was going to have been tied face up and they would have used her face and cunt. Using her ass would have been crossing a line. A line that apparently none of them were worried about.

When Vincent dragged his thick cock from my battered asshole he spread my asscheeks to take a look in the gaped hole. I heard him whistle then comment, "Your asshole's stretched wider than a four lane highway and fuller than a swimming pool." Then he laughed, "It's not gonna be empty for long.

Thanks sweetcheeks. I'll always remember this night as the best we shared"

When it was Mag's turn he didn't say a word. No insults. No disparaging comments. Nothing.

He climbed on top, stuffing the head of his cock in my hole with his fingers. He wasn't hard but he proceeded to pump my ass anyway. In time I felt it growing. Slowly it took its full shape.

He liked to wriggle and grind in circular motions. One time he slipped out, causing his now harder cock to poke my balls. Bulging and bound like they were, it hurt. My cock was still involuntarily kept throbbing by the ropes.

Mag must've thought he was prodding Court's pussy: I think he tried to get inside, though for obvious reasons he failed. If he tried harder he might discover I wasn't Court. It occurred to me that in their anger-filled state they might not be completely understanding. They might even think I set them up. As if.

When he jammed it back into my still stretched anal canal it was hard as a rock. He continued with the grinding but it threatened to fall out again. I lifted my ass up higher than the pillow alone was holding it, and pushed back on his backstrokes to keep it in.

This angle changed everything. All the discomfort dissipated. Damn, I could've saved myself a lot of difficulty if I'd known this forty-five minutes ago.

I know it's cliche; but it started to feel good. Mag's just right sized dick combined with lube and the jizz of two previous climaxes paved the way for smooth going.

I was able to refrain from grunting with each slippery ingress and start feeling the raw sensations in my ass. It felt better than Courtney's tongue by far. When he shifted his hips slightly every third or fourth stroke it pushed on my prostate, milking a sticky drop out of my also hard dick.

Mag's weight pushed me against the pillow when he bottomed out creating slick friction between my wet dickhead and my stomach. It felt damn good!

When Mag came I wouldn't have known it. I felt no cum erupting. He stopped all movement deep up my ass. However, I've never heard a person enjoy their orgasm more. He moaned and cooed, taking in shuddering breaths. I was honestly afraid for the man's dignity. I mean, was he going to cry in front of the others next?

Tank walked over to the side of the bed and lifted my head. I prayed the wig would stay on. He looked right into my blindfolded face in the dim candlelit light, "It looked to me like you were enjoying that. I really don't think you're going to enjoy my huge log. I'm sure you remember how you used to complain if your pussy wasn't sopping wet.

Then again, your ass practically shot out cum when Mag pulled free. You never shared your ass with me when we were together. If you end up liking the Tank Man's big gun up your ass, just know you'll never have it again. You'll probably never have one this big ever again." Tank laughed in my face for dramatic effect.

When Tank climbed on top of my feminized body the whole bed sank. He placed the head of his rod against my gaping asshole and just held it there.

Imagine for a second a baseball pressed against a vacuum cleaner hose: It wasn't going to go in. In my drained state, I objected weakly, "It's not going in." No one heard, which is just as well since I hadn't even tried to disguise my voice. How many times could that trick work anyway?

Tank used his weight. He applied himself like the metaphorical irresistible force. I felt only pressure. I imagined my butthole swallowing his coke can of a cock. If I had tried to stop him it would have been like throwing oneself in front of a bus to stop it.

Slowly but surely it went in. I don't know if I could have done it if the other guys hadn't broken me in first. I clawed at the sheets trying to inch my way out from under Tank. My whole body tensed like that first entry with Frank.

Tank hissed in my ear, "You're gettin' it now Bitch." He kept up the assault and all I could think was how fortunate I was to be filled with three previous loads.

I lifted my ass high up in the air but it failed to relieve the pressure like it had done with Mag. Tank was saying, "You think it's big enough? Do you?"

I considered revealing myself to the guys. It would ruin Tank's revenge and given how big his cock in my ass was My resolve was fading fast. But then I heard Mag and Frank and Vincent egging Tank on. They were telling him how he wasnt just fucking Courtney for his own revenge but he was doing it for all of them. They needed this revenge to purge their anger.

I needed to be a part of that revenge too. I could have my revenge vicariously through theirs. They weren't really fucking her virgin ass, but they thought they were, and it felt good for them. If I spoiled Tank's chance to get even then I spoiled it for all of them. I knew that when they untied me later I would have to continue the ruse somehow until I could get them out of the house.

It was all the way in me now. I'm not sure but I think Franks was longer. He went in and out two or three times then it started to feel like when Mag did me.

I knew Tank wanted it to hurt, but it just wasn't hurting anymore. I decided to fake the pain to give him what he wanted. Every time he hit bottom I grunted loudly as if he were spearing me painfully deep inside.

I kept pushing my ass up against him because it felt great. But I made a point of flexing my muscles as if they were tense. Tank growled, "Oh yea, Bitch, you love and hate my big cock, don't you?"

Mag's cock had touched my prostate, pushing out my cum once in a while. But Tank's huge beast was rubbing on it continually creating a steady flow. The pillow must have had a large wet spot on it. My cockhead sure did, and it was a delightfully slick mess sending surges of pleasure from my dick radiating throughout my whole groin.

Tank grasped my arms with his hands like he was restraining me. I was still tied – he didn't need to. Then he raised up like he was doing push-ups. He could really pound my ass like this. With each forceful impact I lifted my head and arched my back just enough to make it appear like his pounding was wracking my body, but also just enough to create added stimulation for my engorged ball sack.

He picked up speed. The pistoning was working great for me. My dick was in a constant state of stimulation now, rubbing in the gooey puddle. I was going to cum soon. Tank screamed out while the guys cheered, "Can you take it, Bitch? Can you take it? 'Cause you're gonna get it!!" You're gonna get every ounce of it. And you of all people know how much I cum."

Tank shot a massive bucket of cum into my ass. I couldn't feel it when the others came in me, but I could definitely feel a warm volume of spooge being deposited deeply within. The feeling of sloshiness increased dramatically too. Tank didnt stop his fucking, he just kept plowing through the nastiness for ten or more additional pumps.

These were the extra pumps I needed to push me over the edge. I stopped any pretense of resistance or discomfort. The muscles in my groin that cause ejaculation contracted strongly. I felt them grab at the big thick cock in my ass as well. I'm sure he felt it too. Jets of my own cum soaked the pillow and bathed my dickhead in a pile of frothy wetness.

Tank lowered his mouth next to my ear, "You of all people…you're the only one. You took my virginity then destroyed me. I've never…since…" His voice trailed off. I could only hear because there was a break between songs. Tank's voice was almost inaudible, "I hate you because you made me love you. I loved my little bitch."

He dropped down on top of me with most of his weight. He was breathing heavy and hot on my neck. Slowly he came down from his high. He was naked and dewy with perspiration – and calm. His cock softened, shrank, then fell out of me wetly.

In fact, all of the guys suddenly seemed done with me. Calmly they gathered their clothes, dressed, and left.

I lay there in puddles of my cum, their cum, my sweat and theirs. I was exhausted but ultimately felt successful.

I waited for Courtney but if she hadn't returned during the long time it took for the guys to complete what they needed then she was probably never going to. Maybe she saw their cars?

In about fifteen minutes I was able to untangle the ropes. I cleaned up, put on some regular clothes, then went to get a rag to clean up the bedroom.

In the kitchen I saw an empty can of frosting and a filled pastry bag on the table. Looking out the window I could see Courtneys car in the driveway.

I checked all the rooms, eventually finding her sitting on the floor in the hall closet, just across from the bedroom.

There were black mascara streaks, not only running down her face, but also down the front of my work shirt which she was wearing. She was dabbing at her teary face with another shirt or whatever.

I heard an occasional sob as she wound down from what must have been a full-on blubber session. I'd never seen her cry before. She spoke softly, "The only word they used was 'bitch'. Of all the things they could have called me the ONLY word they chose was 'bitch'. It was unanimous too"

I sat down on the floor opposite her to listen.

"And they were so angry. Furious. I know what happened. I figured out what you did. Then they thought you were me." Here she looked up, "Are you alright?" I just nodded.

"All four of my ex's hate me. Wanted to hurt me. I…I must be an evil person – a real bitch. You must think so too."

I gave answer to her unasked question, "I did, but now…" I didn't finish. I really didn't know how to finish.

Courtney and I talked a lot over the rest of the weekend. We decided it was for the best if we ended our relationship. She needed to go be alone, to do some soul-searching. She said she was going to go live in her car.

That didn't seem wise or safe. I gave her a few thousand dollars to hold her over until she could get a job and an apartment.

In a sad voice, the last words she said to me before she left were, "It wasn't right what you wanted to do to me. I get why you did it, and I deserved it. I don't get why you let them do it to you instead. But I really need to start over." Then she laughed weakly, "Go live in a monastery or something. I'll be alright."

She was right. We needed to split. And she needed some modern equivalent of a monastery. I felt sad too. Not to lose her, just because our lives were so fucked up. Putting my hands on her shoulders I looked her in the eye and said, "I hope so. But you're gonna need friends. You can't do it alone." I hugged her goodbye, "Courtney, I've always seen a good person in you. It's hard sometimes, but you're not evil, just broken like me." I pulled her tighter one last time, "When it's dark. When you need someone, you can call me."

Then I added, "You know, Court, I've asked myself too why I did it. I understand a little more now: I think, I'm thinking I did it to help them stop hating you.

Author's note:

If you liked my story please give it a good vote. Favorite the story, or me, to read it later if you want.

I try but don't always succeed in creating a good story. Please add comments so I know what I'm doing well and what to improve on. If you want to talk I'll answer your friendly comments.

I often attempt to create tension in the main character's motives. In turn, this often means that characters in the story have flaws and might not even be nice to each other all the time.