Roberta Vickers - Raped teenager

There was no denying the fact he was big, powerful, virile. And she knew from intimate experience that the "Big" part of his nickname fitted parts of his anatomy now hidden by his grimy jeans. This was one well-hung stud. His cock felt like a firehose when he fucked her. Just the thought of his hot, long cock in her cunt made her sigh a little. It would have been so good if she could have really had him making love to her instead of raping her.

She thought she could have really gotten off on it. A shudder earthquaked through her slender body and she had to toss her head to get a vagrant strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. It was so perverse liking what he'd done to her.

Karen couldn't understand her feelings. This was beyond her experience. She'd never been more ashamed of anything in her eighteen years but… but it was also a big turn-on.

All these studs fighting over her, wanting her sexually. That was something she both loathed and wanted. It was all so confusing. She didn't want to be used by these men, then tossed aside.

And yet she did, too.

Big Ed moved closer and was outlined by the light from the feebly struggling campfire. His forearms were thick as cables on a suspension bridge and his biceps bulged. There was no hidden strength here – it was all out in the open. The dirty denim jacket was open in the front, showing a hairy chest, a chest thick as a barrel.

Karen began wondering what it would be like, wrapped in those arms, having that mighty chest crushing down on her while his mighty cock drove hard, fast and long into her steamy cunt. This was a man who could really make love to her.

Her first impression that he looked like a younger version of her father was reinforced by the way he stood, the line of his nose and cheeks. And in his eyes gleamed that certain madness she had come to associate with her old man. This likeness repelled her just as the man's obvious physical prowess appealed to her on an elemental level.

Confused, she didn't know what to do or say.

"You boys just don't think right on these things. I had my jollies with her. So did Knuckles. How was she, Knuckles?"

"Tight, Big Ed, Goddamn tight for a damn fine assfucking."

"See, he liked her. But none of you really want sloppy seconds on her. Except you, Ivan. You'll take anything you can get."

The men laughed at one of their number. Karen shivered and it wasn't from the cold when she saw the object of their disdain. This one was even worse than the rest. If they hadn't taken baths in a month, he probably didn't know the meaning of the word. His hair was greasy, slicked straight back, and his clothes were plastered to his body with grime. His broken fingernails were black with dirt. To have him even touch her would be a sure case of infection from body lice or crabs – if they would stand to infest such a poor example of humanity.

"Aw, Big Ed, you know how horny I get."

And it was apparent how horny he was. His cock was already rising from his opened fly to reflect the dull light from the fire. His pole was a ugly, diseased color. Karen shuddered at the thought of having that rammed into either her cunt or up her asshole.

"Now I'm the leader of this fine motorcycle club and what I say for the Maniac MC goes. You'll get her all at once. Line up in two rows facing each other. Now, damn your fuckin' asses, now!" he roared.

They all snapped to mock attention in a double line facing each other.

"Zippers down, now!"

The metallic hissing filled the still night air.

Karen wondered what was going to happen. Whatever it was, she didn't think she was going to enjoy it yew much. There were twelve men standing there, cocks jutting out of their jeans, all looking at her with lust in their bloodshot eyes.

"You, chickie, you! On your knees. Start down the row and suck off each and every one of the club. One at a time. And if they want, when you have gone through the line once, you'll do it again. And again and again. Until they're all too sucked off to stand up."

The mucous laugh told Karen she could be giving them all blow jobs all night long before even one would collapse.

"Wh-what if I manage to make them all give in? W-will you let me go, then?"

Big Ed looked at her and laughed, his laugh ultimate evil. "Hell, baby doll, the best whores around have tired that and haven't done it. Sure, what the hell? If you can get them all to give up, you can go."

Karen swallowed hard as she looked at the dozen cocks all being held out for her sucking. She enjoyed giving head – usually. She'd never done it like this before. Never on a dozen men all at once, never with spectators who had no compunction against making lewd comments. These biker outlaws were only marginally human. There was no telling what they'd do to her.

Still, it was a chance. A chance to get away that hadn't existed a few minutes before.

"All right, I'll do it if you promise to let me go."

"Hell, baby doll, you're going to do it whether I promise or not. We don't take kindly to cockteasers around here. You might end up getting your cunt roasted in the fire – or worse – if you disappoint these poor, sex-hungry guys. Now get to it!"

He kicked her in the direction of the men, lined up and dangling their pricks in front of them. She barely heard their obscene comments as she walked over on her knees, hands still bound behind her back.

All she could see was the man's cock. She pursed her lips, then saw it rocketing toward her face. He was a dead shot. His prick smashed between her lips and bounced off the roof of her mouth. She felt the rubbery, resilient end of his cock bounce and then start down her throat.

She gagged.

She was no Linda Lovelace. She couldn't take an entire prick down her throat without choking. A blow landed on the side of her head, knocking her to the ground.

A cold voice said, "Whatsa matter? Don't you like my prick, cocksuckin' bitch-whore?"

"Hell, man, it don't taste good to her. Try this."

An evil laugh and then, "Get back up and give it another try. You might like it better this time!"

She didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't going to be good. She managed to painfully get her knees under her and raise up. The meaty length of prick still bucked and thrashed around in front of her face. An odor penetrated the fog of her fear. He'd smeared something on his cock.

"No, look, I…"

Hands gripped the back of her head, took handfuls of hair and pulled her face in. He began fucking her face with all the strength in his big arms. She pursed her lips into an "O" and took his length.

And choked again.

He'd covered his prick with something that tasted like Tabasco sauce. The burning sensation in her mouth refused to go away. And she couldn't spit because her mouth was completely filled with the thick, turgid length of his cock.

He began driving her head up and down on his cock. The obscene noises he made told the girl he was getting off on this. She swallowed hard trying to erase the strong chili-pepper taste of his prick. Eventually, she managed to wash it all off but her tongue was virtually numb.

And he was still guiding her head back and forth in strong, rhythmic strokes. She felt his cock split her lips and enter deep into her mouth, then leave again. It occurred to her that the best way of getting this disgusting man's prick out of her mouth was to get his rocks off for him.

She began using her mouth to the best advantage. Normally, she enjoyed giving head. The taste of the spurting cum was delicious. She couldn't get enough of it. In high school, she could drain a dozen boyfriends on twelve consecutive nights. But this was different. These bikers wanted her to do it all on one night – one after another.

Her tongue swirled out and began teasing the delicate flesh along the bottom of the man's prick. The tiny flap of skin dangling under the cleft head of his glans proved especially sensitive. Every time her rough tongue dragged across it, he gasped.