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Ravages

By: boston_kcw



The Kaiser's war finally reached our remote village that night. They came from the west, and made real our worst fears. I refused to cry, even when yet another German soldier came into my room to have his turn with me. This one appeared much too young to be wearing a uniform. His frightened expression vivid beneath the mask of dirt and grime collected on the long march.

I lay exposed to him. My legs splayed wide, the issue of the three soldiers that came before him still leaking from inside me and staining the bedclothes beneath. I had struggled against the first, but he still took what I intended to give only on my wedding night. The next man, and the one after him, could take nothing more from me. I had been made empty. Left wasted. They each had grunted and heaved atop me, pushed hard with one last manful thrust, then spewed their filth within and upon my body.

The young man approached under my glare of hatred and condemnation. He slid his helmet from his head revealing a shock of short blond hair matted with sweat. He ruffled a dirty hand through it as he cast about the room. He took up an old headscarf, one that had once belonged to my mother, and knelt before me.

He dabbed and wiped at the carnal residue high up on my thighs. I turned my head away. I sensed the delicate touch of the cloth briefly against the ruined place between my legs. He then pulled the tattered remnants of my skirt over my nakedness. But there was no need. Modesty and shame had become only words to me. Achingly small, and weak, and meaningless words. 

Laughter and guttural jests in the other rooms of my home were punctuated by the crash of breaking furniture and glass. But here it was quiet. My eyes still fixed on the wall, I waited. Moments passed and the quiet endured. When finally I turned, the soldier was still on his knees by my bed, his face buried in his hands as he silently wept.

For a flittering moment I felt the urge to reach out and touch him on the shoulder, until my anger flared and crushed the despicable notion. To evoke such a feeling of compassion was a violation as despicable as that of those others, and perhaps even more so! I wanted to kick him. To scream and punch. To hurt him in every possible way. He looked up then and met my eyes. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a folded photograph.

He looked at it with loving melancholy and held it for me to see. I wanted to turn away, to deny him the satisfaction, but I was unable. Instead I saw a fading image of a young lady, close in age to me, with hair that was dark, like mine. A sister, or a girlfriend. Maybe a lover. The photograph tilted and dropped from his fingers. He hid his face once more and, shoulders shuddering, sobbed as quietly as he was able.

The rumble of distant explosions came to us then. I bit my lip and sought to summon back the loathing I had for this man. For this boy. So frightened and far from home. In the forced company of coarse men reduced to degenerate beasts by war. Caught up in events he would never truly understand. I crumpled onto the floor next to him before I was aware of myself. Once there, I simply surrendered.

I took the boy in my arms and pulled him to me. The downy whiskers of his cheek pressed against the bare flesh of my breast. I gripped him tightly to me, then tighter still. He stank of sweat, and gun oil, and wine, but his warm breath caressed my nipple and stirred something I thought dead within me. His tears continued, and we rocked back and forth just ever so slightly. I gently shushed him like I had my infant nephew years before. Soon he grew still, remaining nuzzled against my breast, the wetness of his warm tears cooling on my bare skin. Both of us were unwilling to let the moment end, knowing that when we did our own personal horrors would once again be fully upon us. Loud voices intruded from somewhere outside.

The sharp crack of rifle fire rang out, followed by a woman's anguished cries. The boy forced himself away, wiping his eyes and face on his sleeve. The moment evaporated. He found his helmet and went to the door, not daring to glance back at me. As he reached for the handle the door burst open. The big soldier who took me first was there with a pistol in hand.

He smiled a broad, putrid smile, clapped the boy on the shoulder, and made some leering remark. The soldier raised the pistol, pointing it to my face. I sat there motionless, staring into my executioner's eyes, feeling an unreal detachment and merely curious as to why I wasn't screaming, or begging for my life. But the boy tugged at the soldier's coat, and said something while grabbing at his own crotch. There was a forced tone of disgust to his words. The soldier laughed hard and loud, then holstered his gun. He shoved the boy out the door and followed behind, shaking his head and chuckling as he went.

From the darkness of my room I watched the troops move out of the village toward the ridge. On this moonless night there was no distinguishing one from the other. They were each a shadow of death's own ghost, meant only for killing and being killed. All through the night the explosions crept closer and became more frequent until just before dawn when the noise of war culminated furiously in an uninterrupted thunder of apocalyptic destruction. 

It was midday by the time the Russians came from the east. Word spread through what remained of the village that every German on the ridge had been slaughtered. Most had been ripped to pieces by the artillery. Those that survived were too stunned to resist the Russian assault and were shot or bayoneted where they lay. No prisoners were taken, not even those who surrendered.

I focused on the blossoming soreness of my groin and tried to dredge up some feeling of satisfaction from their gruesome annihilation. But, as I looked once again at the photograph the boy had left behind, there was only a deep ache of longing for that infinitely small moment with him in my arms. 

Ravaging My Sister



It was nearly 11:00 on a Tuesday morning in the month of August of 1980 when I awoke. 

I had a severe hangover, having drank far too much beer the day before. Our parents had gone away for a week of travel to Maine and Nova Scotia, and my sister and I had been left home alone.

I was 19 and she was 18, so naturally the first idea that popped into our heads after our parents drove off in the Buick was to call our friends and have a party. 

The drinking started just after noon the previous day, and continued long into the night. It was probably after three in the morning when the last of our "guests" left. I told my sister we could clean up the horrible mess the next day, and she drunkenly agreed.

As I listened to the traffic drive by on the street outside, I blinked my eyes a couple of times and re-entered the world of consciousness. It was hot, hotter than a normal August day in New Jersey should be. I had gone to sleep, well, passed out actually, without having turned on the fan in my bedroom and now I was a ball of sweat.

I got out of bed with the intention of turning on the fan on my dresser and then climb back into bed, but once I was on my feet my bladder told me that I should urinate. Wearing only my boxer shorts, I walked down the 2nd floor hallway to the bathroom. Once I finished pissing, I looked down at my cock and balls and noticed how full my ball sack was. My cock began to harden on it's own. For whatever reason, I had found that the morning after a night of drinking my cock was harder than normal and I had a full load of cum sloshing about in my balls, waiting for release.

If I had simply masturbated right then and there, my future would have been a lot different than it turned out. But I didn't. I washed my hands and brushed my teeth and left the bathroom, content on being up for the day.

I passed my sister's bedroom and noticed she hadn't closed her door all the way. For reasons I cannot explain, I gave the door a push and it wide open. She lay on top of the covers, clad only in a pair of red panties. She was laying on her stomach with her legs spread lewdly apart, snoring loudly.

I knelt down at the end of her bed and watched her lay there, her ass rising and sinking with each breath. She was out like a light, so I, probably still a little drunk from the evening before, walked over and began to gently rub her legs with my hands. Her skin was so soft and warm. My breath began to get labored, my cock stiffened without a touch and rose against the confines of my boxers.

My hands reached her ass and easily slid underneath the silky panties. I bent over and began kissing the back of her legs, spreading them apart further. I found myself climbing onto her bed and kneeling in the space between her legs. My hands rubbed her ass cheeks roughly. 

As I lavished my sister's ass with kisses, she began to squirm a little, making barely audible moaning sounds. My fingers crept to her pussy and found their purchase. The fingers of my right hand found my sister's enlarged clit at almost the very second my tongue accessed her asshole. 

After a few minutes of further finger-and-tongue exploration, my cock needed attention. I pushed aside my sister's panties and grabbed her by the hips. I pulled her up to her knees and spread her legs even further apart. My sister had to have been awake - it‘s not possible to rise up onto all fours while remaining asleep - but she didn't open her eyes or say anything to reveal this.

No, instead she just arched her back and lifted her pussy up towards me. Her hands grabbed the sheets and squeezed them. Holding my cock firmly, I placed it at her entrance and began to push it in. My sister gasped as my cock easily slid inside her soaking wet cunt. 

I didn't make love to her slowly and tenderly. My brain, as hungover as it was from the previous evenings beer, was overwhelmed with savage animalistic lust.  I proceeded to fuck my sister with long hard strokes. Our bodies collided together with loud slaps.  Our mouths uttered grunts and moans, but no words.  My heavy balls swung wildly with back and forth. I could feel rivers of sweat run down my body, dripping off of my balls. The fingers of my sister's right hand reached beneath her, no doubt to maul her clitoris while I rammed my meat in and out of her with increasingly frenzied motions. I moved my hands from her hips to her ass, and my thumbs played with her asshole while the fucking continued.

It didn't take long, perhaps only a few minutes, before my cock could handle no more.

I withdrew my shaft from inside my sister's body and tugged frantically on it with hand. I moaned with indescribable pleasure as beautiful, thick, gooey streams of white cum spat forth from my cock. Seven or eight ropes of jism, in decreasing volumes and length, shot from my cock through the air to land on the back of my sister's head, on her shoulders, down her back, and, finally, upon the flesh of has luscious ass.

She collapsed onto her stomach while still panting. I took my still-hard dick and used it to rub the cum into her flesh. I bent over and licked some of my cum off her body. I ran my hands through my sister's brunette hair, kissed her on top of the head, and then got off of her bed, withdrawing to my own bedroom. No a word was spoken between us.

I got dressed and went downstairs, eating a quick bowl of cereal before I began the task of cleaning up all of the empty beer cans, liquor bottles, plastic cups, full ashtrays, etc that made up the refuse of the party from last night.

As I was getting the vaccuum from the hall closet when I heard the water running through the pipes, signaling my sister taking a shower. I was filled with trepidation. How would she react? Would she accuse me of raping her? Would she be in tears, terrified and traumatized? Would she call the police or our parents? 

And how would I react? Should I apologize and beg her no to tell anyone of our fucking? Should I accuse her of tempting me with her open bedroom door and near-naked body?

I decided to act as if nothing had occurred when she came downstairs. To act "normally".

When she came down the stairs twenty minutes later, I had nearly completed cleaning up the first floor. My sister, Donna, looked around and said, "Wow you did a great job cleaning up! What time did you get up?"

"A couple of hours ago," I replied nonchalantly. "I woke up from a dream and couldn't get back to sleep." I said with a straight face.

"I had a weird dream, too." she said with a chuckle, "that woke me up. But I went back to sleep afterwards."

So, it seemed, I was in the clear. She wasn't going to acknowledge the sex we'd had earlier in the day. She wasn't going to tell on me or anything else.

The only question that remained unanswered in my mind was whether or not Donna was going to let me fuck her again.

And again.

And again.



Ravaging Nikki Pt. 01



The sound of heavy steps echoed in the narrow alley. 

Nervous, Nikki hurried, her heels wobbling on the uneven cracks in the pavement. Damn it, she thought; cutting between the old buildings to reach the parking lot faster had seemed like a good idea in the moment. She hadn't appreciated how narrow and creepy the dark alleys actually were. 

Ahead, Nikki saw the promise of street lights. The parking lot must be close. She rushed forward, only to have her hopes dashed. A chain link fence blocked the end of the alley. A sound, part frustration, part panic, escaped her as she looked at the fence, trying to find some way through. She even briefly considered trying to go over it, but the fence was too high. Besides, she didn't think heels and her club outfit, with its frilly top and short skirt, were really suited to climbing. 

Nikki turned to find her way back out of the alley only to stop with a startled squeak as she nearly ran into the guy looming behind her. Her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't much taller than she was, but he seemed to loom over her anyway, with his broad shoulders and piercing eyes. 

"Hey pretty lady," he drawled. He was so close; Nikki could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You wanna party?"

"I... I... oh, god," Nikki stammered. 

The man chuckled. He looked rough and dangerous, unshaven and shaggy haired, with tattoos curling up his muscular arms. "I don't think he's back here, pretty lady. It's just you and me." 

Nikki dashed forward, unsteady on her heels, trying to get past him. The rough man laughed. His strong hands grabbed her arms, almost pulling her off her feet. Dizzyingly, he spun her around and released his grip. Nikki staggered, throwing out her hands to catch her balance. Her breath came in panicked gasps.

"Please, don't hurt me," Nikki whimpered. "Please, let me go." 

"Maybe," the rough man smiled. "But first, I wanna see your tits."

"What?" Nikki sobbed, hoping she'd heard him wrong.

"Your boobs, knockers, ta-tas," the rough man growled. "You're not leaving until I see your rack, pretty."

"Oh god," Nikki gasped. "Please, please let me go."

"Then let's see those tits," the rough man smirked. 

Hands shaking, Nikki took hold of the hem of her frilly top. Her head was spinning and she couldn't seem to get enough air. Not knowing what else to do, she slowly lifted her hands, drawing her top up. Whimpering, she closed her eyes and pulled the cloth over her head. The stinking air of the alley felt shockingly cold against her bare skin and, to her horror, she felt her tiny, bud-like nipples hardening.

"Very nice," the rough man growled. Nikki could hear the smile in his voice. She kept her eyes closed, willing him to go away, to leave her alone now that he had what he wanted.

"Please," she whispered.

"Now show me the rest."

"What?" Nikki gasped, feeling her stomach drop out from under her. She thought she was going to be sick. Her eyes flew open, treating her to a view of his leering face. 

"I wanna see it all," the rough man grinned.

"You said you'd let me go," she pleaded.

"Come on slut, show me the rest," the rough man stepped closer.

"Please," Nikki whimpered, backing away, hitting the wall behind her. "Just leave me alone."

With a snarl, the rough man lunged forward. His strong hand seized Nikki by the throat. Her breath caught as his fingers tightened. She was almost too stunned and horrified to fully notice his lips crushing against hers in a cruel parody of a kiss. 

Desperate, she struggled, trying to pull herself from his strong hands. His fingers tightened, making it harder to breathe, but she tried to twist away. His other hand lashed out, striking her bare breast with stinging force. Nikki sobbed against the man's violent kiss. 

He slapped her breast again, and again, each stinging blow bringing another sob of pain against his lips. Nikki froze, hoping that might stop the pain. The man slapped her breast one more time, before grabbing hold of it roughly and pinching her hard, little nipple. 

Sobbing, Nikki tried to stand perfectly still while the rough man forced his tongue into her mouth and mauled and pinched her breast. The hand around her throat relaxed its grip slightly, making her panicked breaths easier. His lips, tasting of alcohol and smoke, continued to press violently against her own. She yielded, letting him thrust his tongue into her mouth. 

Hope sprang in her as his hand ceased to maul her naked tit. For a moment, she dared hope he had tired of this game. Maybe he would finally let her go.

Instead, the strong hand pressed between her legs. Nikki whimpered as he thrust it up between her thighs, touching her most sensitive places. Why, she cursed herself. Why had she done it? 

"You little slut," the rough man laughed against her lips. "Did you forget something?"

It had been a dare, a stupid, crazy dare to go to the club in this little skirt with no panties. Not long ago, she thought it had been fun, sitting there in the club, feeling the air against her nakedness, knowing that someone might get a peek of her. Now she was topless in a dirty alley, a cruel stranger holding her by the throat, kissing her violently while his fingers... oh god, his fingers probed her soft, wet (oh god, why was she so wet) sensitive folds.

He laughed as she squirmed and whimpered, trying to get away from his probing, pinching fingers but finding nowhere to go. Her struggles only seemed to work his strong fingers deeper inside her. Worse, she could feel herself responding, getting slicker as he touched her. 

Perversely, his fingers seemed to find her most sensitive places. Her own wetness spilled over him as he touched her, teased her. His kisses, harsh and violent, seemed to inflame her. Even his hand at her throat, making her gasp and struggle for breath, fed the inescapable rush of sensation. She felt herself clenching, shivering at the edge. She sobbed as this strange, violent man's touch pushed her over. Her whole body quivered in violent reaction. 

Slowly, the rough man pulled a little back from her. Involuntarily, Nikki whimpered as his fingers withdrew from inside her. Gasping, she was trying to cover herself when he pushed her slowly down to her knees.

She knelt there, on the dirty pavement of the alley, shuddering and topless, with her skirt pushed over her thighs. She was afraid to look up and didn't want to see herself. So, once more, she closed her eyes and tried to hide. 

She groaned as his fingers closed on her. Firmly and steadily, he pulled her head forward. She smelled the saltiness and musk of him, felt the firm, spongy tip of him press against her lips. She made no move to resist, allowing the thick heat of him into her mouth, swirling her tongue and bobbing her head with his rhythm as he thrust into her face. Maybe, she told herself, he'll finally let her go if she does this well enough. 

His thrusts battered against her face, and she struggled to accommodate, to take him as deeply as he wanted, to let him use her and maybe, finally be finished. She felt the flesh of him harden and swell in her mouth. Desperate, she bobbed her head faster, trying to bring him to completion, to end this soon.

Nikki sobbed as his fingers clenched painfully in her hair, pulling her head back, dragging himself from her mouth. Gasping, she didn't resist as he pulled her around, lifting her waist. She cried out as he thrust into her body, the impact of his flesh into hers rocking her forward. 

Holding her hips, he drove himself deep into her wet, warm flesh. Every thrust was hard and brutish, the slapping sound of their bodies meeting seeming to fill the alley.

"You like that, don't you slut," he growled into her ear as he violently trust into her. "This is what you wanted, isn't it. You're a slut and you love me fucking you."

"No," Nikki whimpered, shaking her head, even as her body made her a liar. 

Her hips bucked instinctively against him. Her legs spread wider, her ass angled up to take him in even deeper. 

"Cum for me slut," he snarled, thrusting hard into her willing body.

"No," she moaned, shoving back against him. 

She felt herself quivering again at the edge of another orgasm. Her head shook in denial even as she felt herself swollen with need, evidence of her arousal smeared down her naked thighs. 

The rough man drove himself into her, his fingers tightening painfully in her hair. She could feel him stiffening and pulsing deep inside her. 

Again Nikki came hard, desperately driving herself onto his cock as her muscles clenched around him, groaning as the orgasm tore through her, leaving her boneless with him still hard inside her. She moaned as she felt him slowly withdraw from inside her. An aftershock shuddered through her as her body vacillated between relief and disappointment that it was over.

She felt him looming over her. Panting, she turned, unable to keep from looking up to see what else may be in store. Her face heated as she skipped past his cock, still slick with her wetness, and up to his face. 

He smiled down at her, the somehow gentle look at odds with his perversity. He reached out, holding her hair again, and drew her face back to his slick and still hard flesh. Nikki cringed back a little but opened her lips obediently, tasting herself mingled with him as she licked and sucked him.

He began to thrust again, pushing himself once more into her mouth with growing urgency. This time, he didn't stop, and a moment later his first release flooded between Nikki's lips. Even as she struggled to swallow, he suddenly pulled himself from her obedient lips. Spurts of white, sticky cum rained down onto her face, drawing hot streaks along her lips, nose and cheek. Reflexively, Nikki licked her lips, tasting his warm cum. 

Panting, she looked up to see him looming over her again, closing his jeans. With a grin, he lifted his phone from a pocket. The flash was startlingly bright in the dark of the alley as the rough man snapped picture after picture of her, lying in the dirty alley, her breasts and pussy bare and cum covering her flushed face. 

"Thanks, slut," the rough man leered down at her, pausing to playfully pinch her breast once more before turning and sauntering down the alley.

Nikki lay there on the ground, her breasts and pussy throbbing in the open air. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, trying to straighten her skirt into real clothing again and grabbing for her top. Dressing, she desperately tried to scrub the cum from her face before stumbling down the alley alone.



Ravaging Nikki Pt. 02



"No," Nikki whispered to herself. 

Looking down at her phone, there was yet another text from the mysterious number. She didn't know which creep from the bar had managed to get her number, but she didn't want to talk to any of them. After what had happened that night, she never wanted to be reminded of it again. Instead, some jerk kept texting her about what a great time he'd had and how he wanted to see her again. She hadn't replied, but whoever he was, he kept texting her anyway. She ought to block the number, but simply hadn't gotten around to it. Instead she firmly ignored it, hoping the jerk would finally get the hint.

For nearly a day, she thought it finally worked. 

"Ms. Richardson." 

Nikki looked up to see her supervisor looming over her cubicle. A portly man she recognized from HR and a security guard stood behind him.

"Yes Mr. Jones?" Nikki looked puzzled at the men.

"Come with us Ms. Richardson," the HR man glowered.

"Is something wrong?" Nikki asked as she stood, straightening her skirt.

"Just come with us, please, Ms. Richardson," Mr. Jones repeated firmly. 

Worried, Nikki followed Mr. Jones and the HR man to her supervisor's office. The security guard followed her so closely she was afraid he was going to step on her heels. Inside the office, Nikki took the seat in front of Mr. Jones' desk. The guard pulled the door shut with a solid click, cutting them off from the rest of the office. Mr. Jones took his seat, while the HR man stood over Nikki, glowering down at her.

"What's going on?" Nikki asked nervously. 

"You understand, Ms. Richardson, that we can't have any kind of impropriety here," Mr. Jones said sternly. "We handle very important contracts and we simply can't have any kind of inappropriate behavior by our employees."

"Yes sir," Nikki replied, puzzled. 

"Your behavior," The HR man rumbled, "is not the kind of thing we can allow."

"What?" Nikki said, shocked. "What do you mean? What am I supposed to have done?"

"We monitor social media, Ms. Richardson," the HR man loomed over her. "We've seen your... picture."

"Picture? What picture?" Nikki asked.

"Really, Ms. Richardson," Mr. Jones said, "are you going to make us show it here?"

"I really don't know what you mean." Nikki shook her head. 

At a nod from the HR man, Mr. Jones turned his computer monitor to face Nikki and quickly opened a browser window to a popular photo sharing site. The picture opened. 

It was a young woman, with short dark hair, kneeling on a dark, dirty pavement, against a graffitied wall. The woman was topless, her bare breasts pert, her nipples swollen. What might have been a skirt was bunched up in a narrow band around her waist, leaving her legs completely bare and spread, the dark tangle of her pubic hair clearly visible between her wet thighs. The young woman's face was upturned, her eyes half closed in a strangely wanton expression, large blobs of sticky white semen clearly visible on her cheeks, her lips and dripping down her breasts. 

Nikki froze as an icy horror spread through her. It was her face. Her face, covered in cum; her bare breasts, sticky thighs and naked pussy. He'd taken a picture. The man who had ravaged her that night, in the alley behind the club. It had been him, she realized suddenly, the one texting her, the one she'd ignored. She'd ignored him and now...

"No," Nikki whispered.

"Are you saying this isn't you?" The HR man rumbled.

Nikki didn't really hear him, instead shaking her head, trying to deny the horrible picture in front of her.

"Well, I said it might not be her," Mr. Jones said genially.

"But it might," the HR man countered.

"Well, we can't make any decisions without knowing for sure," Mr. Jones smiled.

Slowly, Nikki had realized the men were talking. She felt a rush of hope and joy that Mr. Jones was defending her. She'd never thought he particularly liked or cared about his employees. 

"Are you saying this isn't a picture of you," the HR man leered down at her.

"Yes..." Nikki said weakly, trying desperately not to make it a question. 

"Very well," the HR man grinned. "You can prove it."

"OK... Um, how?" Nikki looked at Mr. Jones hopefully.

"Take off your top, dear," Mr. Jones smiled back.

"What?!?" Nikki gasped, ice flooding her veins again.

"Well, if this picture isn't you," Mr. Jones said, "then you won't look like her. But your face, Nikki, your face does look very like her. But maybe your other... features... don't."

"No," Nikki whimpered, "I can't."

"If you won't work with us here than we'll have no choice but to let you go," Mr. Jones leered. "If you want to keep your job, Nikki, you'll do what I say."

"Please," Nikki begged.

"Take off your top," Mr. Jones barked.

Shaking, Nikki stood up. Her fingers quivered uncontrollably as she fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. Mr. Jones leered at her intently, while the HR man, standing at her elbow, continued to glower. After what seemed like forever, Nikki finally managed to undo all the buttons of her blouse. Shaking with fear and humiliation, she let the fabric slide open. Her arms shifted and moved as she reflexively tried to cover her lacy white bra and struggled not to.

"The bra too," Mr. Jones said firmly.

Nikki whimpered. Her open blouse slid off her arms, and she slowly reached around, fumbling with her bra hook. 

"Enough," the HR man growled, and for an instant Nikki sagged in relief, hoping this was over. "This is taking forever. You do it."

The last was directed at the guard, standing silently by the door. Nikki froze in horror as the big man stomped over to her. His rough hands grabbed her arms, pushing them down to her side. Without any hesitation, he twisted her bra hook loose and jerked the white, lacy fabric off, tossing it unceremoniously aside.

Standing, topless and afraid in her supervisor's office, Nikki whimpered quietly. Mr. Jones and the HR man stared openly at her naked tits, their eyes unabashedly devouring her.

"Well," the HR man said finally, "I think those look very like the girl in the picture."

"I'm not so sure," Mr. Jones replied, standing and walking around to the front of his desk, his eyes never leaving Nikki's bare breasts. "They are certainly firm and perky... but they don't look quite the same." 

His eyes flicked to the screen and back, as if comparing the two sets of breasts.

"Ah, I know," Mr. Jones said at last. "In the picture, her nips are hard!"

Nikki reflexively jumped back as Mr. Jones's hands shot toward her, only to slam into the solid, muscular wall of the security guard behind her. Ignoring her actions, Mr. Jones seized her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed. Nikki gasped as the intense sensations flooded her body. Mr. Jones continued to ignore her reactions, studying instead her freshly tweaked nipples. Grinning, he shook his head and tried again, this time twisting and pulling her hardening nubs. Nikki sobbed as he mauled and twisted her breasts. 

Finally, Mr. Jones released her and stepped back again.

"Well," he said, "yes, those could be the same tits as in the picture."

The HR man nodded, "Yes, they very well could, but that doesn't prove it's her." 

"It doesn't?" Nikki whimpered, torn between hoping the men might be finished with her and dreading what might happen next if they weren't.

"Well," Mr. Jones smiled, "there is something else we should check."

The HR man nodded and commanded the guard, "Pull up her skirt."

"No," Nikki whispered as the guard grabbed the hem of her skirt and lifted. 

"Well that won't do," Mr. Jones leered, gesturing at Nikki's lacy white panties. Grinning, he knelt. Nikki realized in horror he was looking into her eyes, watching her face as he grabbed the edges of her panties. He smiled up at her and slowly pulled them down to her ankles. Then he stood, stepping back and studying his handiwork. 

"Yes, that could be it," Mr. Jones mused. 

The HR man now took his time, looking between the picture and Nikki's naked pussy. He nodded slowly, and without a word, reached toward her. Nikki tried again to back away, and again struck the fleshy wall of the security guard. To her horror, she felt the guard's hard length pressing against her bare ass while the HR man reached up between her thighs. His fingers brushed across her wet folds. 

Wet. Oh God, why was she wet again. Her body trembled with fear and humiliation - or was it desire? Her nipples ached from Mr. Jones' mauling, but did she long for him to twist them again. Was part of her really secretly disappointed that he hadn't slapped her tits? She was appalled at the guard's erection against her ass... or was she arching her back to press against it? The HR man's fingers were probing her slick, wet pussy. Was she rocking to pull away or to guide his hands to touch her more deeply? Her breath was coming in ragged pants because she was afraid, not because she was rushing closer and closer to the edge. It wasn't an orgasm, Nikki told herself desperately as she sobbed and shook. These horrible, perverse men weren't making her cum. 

Wiping his fingers on her glistening thighs, the HR man stepped back to survey her naked, humiliated body again. Mr. Jones grinned savagely.

"I think it does look very like her," the HR man said finally, "but I can't be sure from this angle. She should be on her knees."

Nikki was already sinking to the floor as the guard put his hand on her shoulders. On her knees in front of these men, she looked up but away. She was unable to look directly at them. She knew she looked like the picture now: topless, her nipples hard, her pussy bare and her thighs glistening with her own, unwilling desire. There had never been a real question. It really was a picture of her, after all. Of course she would look exactly...

"Not quite," Mr. Jones said finally. "No, she doesn't quite look the same."

"You're right. Something is different," the HR man agreed. 

Nikki closed her eyes and tried not her hear the sound that followed, the sound of zippers opening. A hand gripped her short, dark hair, pulling her head forward. She smelled saltiness and musk, felt the firm, spongy tip against her lips, let it pass into her unresisting mouth. Her tongue swirled around it, her head moved, bobbing in time to the urgent thrusts of the thick, hard shaft. Suddenly that shaft was pulled away and another pressed against her lips. She sucked, licked and kissed the hard cock in front of her face. She slid her mouth along its whole length and lapped her tongue desperately against the sweaty, dangling spheres bellow it. She allowed it to thrust deep into her face, gagging and struggling as it sank too deep and then withdrew, only to be replaced by another.

She moved limply from one to another, their cocks sliding over her face, into her mouth, their hands pulling and tugging on her hair, sometimes reaching down to tweak her aching nipples. She wasn't really aware of when her fingers had slid between her thighs and starting playing with her dripping pussy. She only knew that her own warmth was filling her again. She let that feeling rise, while their hard cocks plundered her mouth, until her warmth overtook her and she felt theirs raining down onto her face, her hair, her tits and thighs.

Nikki knelt there, on the floor her supervisor's office. She was topless, her bare tits pert, her nipples swollen. Her skirt was bunched up in a narrow band around her waist, leaving her legs completely bare and spread, the dark tangle of her pussy clearly visible between her wet thighs. Her face upturned, her eyes half closed in a strangely wanton expression, while large blobs of sticky white cum soaked into her hair, slid down her cheeks, over her lips and dripped down her breasts. 

***

The guard escorted Nikki back to her cubicle. 

They had given her barely enough time to hastily rebutton her blouse, which now hung askew, and straighten her wrinkled skirt, now spotted with wetness. Her faced was flushed and still felt sticky. The HR man had not allowed her to take a tissue off Mr. Jones's desk (only employees were allowed to use company resources), so she had quickly wiped her face with the only thing she could think of: her panties. Now, walking back to her desk, she was sure she had missed some of the mess on her face, not to mention the wet clumps in her hair and the sticky streaks on her breasts. 

The guard stood over her as she cleared out her desk, loading her few personal belongings into a small box. Her former coworkers looked on, whispering and grinning. 

Silent and grim, he escorted her down to the lobby. With a resigned sigh Nikki started toward the door, to leave this all behind her. She was brought up short by the guard's firm and sudden grip on her arm. Without a word, her turned her and guided her into the security office behind the reception desk. 

Uncertain what to do, Nikki allowed herself to be led into the office and stood in front of the guard's desk. Security monitors arrayed behind it showed grainy scenes from around the building. 

"Put the box down," the guard said gruffly. It was the first time he'd spoken, Nikki realized as she set the box on the desk.

"Bend over," he commanded.

"Wha...?" Nikki whimpered, to numb to be really surprised by the order.

The guard didn't wait for her to act. He seized the back of Nikki's neck and pushed her face-down onto the desk. She lay weakly, her face pressed against the desktop, as he moved behind her. She heard the coarse sound of his zipper opening. One hand held her neck, pinning her down, his other fumbled with his own belt and pants.

Unthinking, Nikki's hands reached back and tugged at her skirt, bunching it, pulling it up to reveal her naked ass to the guard's hungry gaze. She wasn't sure why she did it. She could hear soft words, whimpering sounds of denial coming from her mouth, but her hands pulled her skirt up anyway. As the guard moved behind her, her hips arched up to accept him even as her mouth refused him.

She felt his hard shaft press against her wetness. She was still so wet, from before when they had touched her, when she had touched herself. She was wet again now, hot and wet and open. The guard's cock slid easily into her body, and her whimpering denial became a moan. He thrust into her, rough and hard, filling her up, stretching her. Warm pleasure grew inside her with each unwanted thrust. 

Looking up, Nikki saw the security monitors again, flickering from scene to scene throughout the building. She saw her old coworkers, going about their daily routines while the security guard fucked her. Watched them typing at their computers and making their photocopies as his unwanted cock plunged over and over into her wet pussy.

The monitors changed again and, on one, Nikki saw a view of lobby. The door to the security office stood open. Through it, she could see a woman bent over the desk, her skirt bunched around her hips. A man stood behind her, his pants around his ankles, thrusting himself between the woman's legs. She watched the woman thrusting back against the man, fucking him as hard as he was fucking her. Even on the grainy monitor, Nikki could see the side of the woman's face; see the raw lust of her expression - her own expression. Nikki watched herself fucking the guard on the monitor. She realized suddenly that anyone who came into the lobby just now would see her. 

Wild passion crashed through her, pushing her once again over the edge.

***

Later, she stood on the sidewalk outside the office building, the box with her meager belongings in her hands. The cool breeze tangled her clumped hair, brushed against her sticky face and breasts and coiled between her legs, wet and dripping with her desire and the guard's leavings.

Nikki stood and wondered what was going to happen next.