Drama

Drama

By JD joandoe@gmail.com

Description: Alanis Morissette finds out the hard way that Fergie can’t take a joke.

Content Codes: M+F, F/F, nc, rape, oral, anal, viol, inter, ws, fist, voy, humil, bond, kill

Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie.
While I’m disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I do not know Alanis Morissette, Fergie (Stacy Ann Ferguson) or Paul Wight and everything I have written is purely fictional, means no harm, and again is solely a work of fiction. I make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes above to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content.


The sun had just set on a long afternoon. A few of the guys were quietly snoring in a drunken stupor. Fergie was snoozing on the couch, a half hard cock still inside her sticky ass. Carlos had come so many times he thought he might never need to get hard again. He slapped one of Alanis’s breasts and commented to the big black man who’d just dribbled his final cumshot into her hair.

“You know this bitch opened for Vanilla Ice on tour one year?”

“No shit? Figured there had to be a reason for her to be so talentless. I sort of assumed it was ‘cos she was a Canuck.”

“For real. Ain’t that right, bitch? My cousin told me.”

Alanis Morissette was in no position to answer. The Canadian songstress’s silky black panties had been stuffed in her mouth, with a strip of duct tape to hold them in. Her wrists were redly sore where the rough rope had bitten into them over the previous three hours. Each wrist was secured to a leg of the table by a short length of rope. The table was small, and Alanis’s ass hung slightly over the edge. Her legs were tied by similar lengths of rope, but even shorter, to force them wide. Spasms of pain still came from her aching, cramped muscles.

Sperm was draining heavily around the beer bottle someone had pushed up into her pussy. The cool glass had actually felt good on her abused inner tissue though she wouldn’t have wanted one in her ass, which felt like it was gaping still. There were little bruises all over her thighs, fingerprints from ungentle hands. Her breasts were in a worse state, having been mauled and nibbled until they were darkly bruised and tender over much of the mounds.

Not every rapist had come inside Alanis’s two lower holes. Some of them had pulled out and splashed cum across her stomach, or even her breasts. A few had made it around the table and jerked off into her soft black hair, pasting the curls with sticky ejaculate. There had been at least twenty guys, and all had come more than once, so there was a lot of spunk dripping off, or out of, Alanis Morissette. She smelled atrocious.

The throbbing in her right eye told her that the bruise must be a real shiner. She was right; her eye was almost swollen shut, with a wide spectrum of purples, blues, yellows all colouring the lightly tanned flesh. She thought she’d lost a couple of teeth as well during the initial brutal blows that floored her.

Alanis had answered the knock on her hotel room door when she recognised the woman on the other side. Fergie, of the Black Eyed Peas. The woman she’d recently parodied as an April Fools joke. As soon as it was open, though, a huge bearded man had stepped in from the side and landed a strong punch into her gut. The air had been forced from her lungs with a surprised gagging noise, as Alanis folded over the punch. He’d just grabbed her hair, wrapped his fist into it to pull her face up and, WHAM! He landed a stiff jab to the eye, followed by another right in her wide-open mouth.

As she still fought to drag air back into her emptied lungs, there was nothing to scream with when the fresh pain hit. She saw stars, and momentarily lost her vision as her skull rocked under the jabs. Alanis was vaguely aware of being dragged back into her room, and the sound of quite a few other people following. Tears flowed from her eyes, while a trickle of blood ran down her chin.

They’d been very well organised. Some carried in crates of beer, others the binding rope and one carried the table. They had everything they needed for hours with Alanis, and could send out for more supplies if needed. The bearded man, Paul Wight, towered over Alanis, and held her up off the floor by her hair, a macho show of strength. The pain in her scalp was surprisingly mild, but felt worse quickly. He let her feet back to the floor and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“This is what you get when you disrespect me, you dried up old bitch,” Fergie told Alanis.

Alanis knew she was only a year older. She wanted to reason, to plead. Her words were muffled in the hairy hand of the bearded man. She hoped this was just an unfunny joke that had gone too far, but she saw the men carrying in beer, and her heart sank when the last one closed the door behind them. It sank even further when she saw Fergie had a hand inside her pants, clearly rubbing herself intimately.

“You’re going to get fucked by a lot of guys. They’re going to do whatever they want to you, and I’m going to watch, have a few beers, and listen to you suffer and cum at the same time!”

Fergie pulled her fingers from her pants. They were slick with her honey, and she smeared them under Alanis’s nose, just above one of Paul’s fat fingers, as the scared Canadian tried ineffectually to pull loose from the relentless grip on her hair and legs. She was badly outnumbered, and too scared to hit out for fear of being hurt more. The scent of Fergie’s perverted arousal filled her nostrils.

“What are you waiting for? Strip the bitch!”

Fergie moved back to let them work. As the table was set up, two men approached Alanis and tore open her blouse. Buttons flew out widely as her black bra was exposed. Since she was being held purely by her head, they only had to pull the silky blouse down her twisting arms and drop it to one side. One of the men flicked a knife open, and showed it to Alanis. Her gut twisted with fear, but he only used it to slice her bra strap.

“Hey, Alanis-slut. Your tits ain’t so bad looking. Little small maybe. Everyone get a good look!”

The men pulled Alanis’s arms down to her side, and then with the bearded man, they turned her around in a slow circle to show everyone her bared breasts. As Fergie said, Alanis’ breasts were mighty fine in her mid thirties, even if a little smaller than some would choose in fantasy. Once they’d displayed her like a piece of meat, they set to sliding her floor length skirt to the floor, tugging off slippers and socks, and then tugging her panties to the floor.

Fergie approached again, and ordered the men to hold Alanis’s arms. Alanis groaned as Fergie’s fingers brushed her shaven pussy, and tickled gently around her hooded clit. The rapists’ ringleader knew her stuff, and soon had Alanis unwillingly dripping wet and moaning into Paul’s rough hand. Alanis saw the hungry expressions in the faces of the men, most of whom were already stripped off. They all had the look of gang members, some black, some Hispanic – though the big bearded guy who held her hair was actually white.

Alanis Morissette knew she was going to be raped, and she hated that they could see her hard nipples and oozing twat – as if she wanted the violation. Fergie finger banged her harder, suckling on a nipple. She nearly came every time she glanced up at the bitch’s terrified face. Lulling the stupid slut into a false sense of security by sending her flowers had worked, and now she could be punished.

As Alanis’ body stiffened up the bearded man removed his hand from her mouth. Fergie spat in her face as she screamed with the forced climax, raped to orgasm by another woman. Alanis was a real gusher, and her explosive blast of girlcum drenched Fergies arm and pants, while Alanis herself was seeing stars. The incredible shame made her orgasm even more intense, triggering smaller multiple bursts of pleasure as she thought of it.

They had her tied to the table by the time she was properly aware again. Fergie had taken off her clothes, and climbed on with her. She positioned herself to kneel over Alanis’ face, and just as the Candian was ready to scream for help, she muffled her with snatch.

“Holy fucking shit, this old bitch is good! Paul, suck my tits! Hard!” Fergie moaned, as she wrapped her hands in Alanis’ black hair and ground the bound woman’s face into her cunt.

There were whoops and hollers from the gang members at the show. While normally they might fight for turf, the sight of a hot woman raping another hot woman now brought them together. Paul, the bearded man who’d held Alanis, had been retrieving her panties and the duct tape. He left both on the table and lent down to suck and fondle Fergie’s breasts, giving her the additional stimulation she desired.

Even though Alanis wouldn’t lick her, the muffled screaming, the friction on her clit, and Paul’s mouth on her breasts, were all enough to bring Fergie off with an even louder scream than Alanis had managed. People were banging on the wall of the hotel room by the time she finished yelling. Fuck ’em, she thought.

Fergie was panting, but incredibly relaxed. She smiled wickedly down at Alanis, and released her bladder. The pungent waste fluid sprayed down into the Canadian’s open mouth. She had no choice but to swallow or drown, and so, feeling utterly revolted, she gulped down Fergie’s hot amber nectar.

“Come on piss-slut. Drink it!”

Alanis’ stomach twisted, she thought she would vomit. She hoped desperately that this would be it, that her unjust punishment was over as she swallowed the last vile trickle.

But it wasn’t.

Fergie climbed off, and used Alanis’ hair to wipe her snatch dry. Paul, who really was huge – he had to be at least seven feet tall – held Alanis’ jaw open and forced her own panties inside. Fergie pulled off a strip of duct tape, and stuck it across her mouth. No way for her to spit out the taste, now, or call for help. Alanis struggled against the tight ropes, and twisted her head from side to side. Her wet hair whipped around as she explored her helplessness.

“She’s all yours! No shoving to get to the meat!” Fergie laughed, then continued for Alanis’ benefit, “remember this is because the bitch dissed me. If she enjoys it too much, you’re doing it wrong. Don’t just fuck her, fuck her up!”

The Canadian’s piteous groan made Fergie’s cunt twitch, so she selected a gang member to spend some quality time with during the gang rape. Fergie walked over to where he was sitting, and simply sat down onto his hard cock. Fergie faced away from him, to allow her to watch the show. She bit her lip as he stretched her already drenched pussy, but the real action was taking place at the table.

Paul was up first. The hulking bearded giant revealed a mammoth organ in keeping with his build, easily a nine inches long and only semi hard! He pulled the foreskin back to reveal a bloated pinkish-purple crown oozing pre-cum. He pinched Alanis’ clit, tugging and twisting the little nub to make her squirm and groan. He stroked himself with his free hand, grinning like a boy with a new toy car.

“Get the fuck on with it!” cried the skinny crackhead who was number two in line. Paul broke his nose for him without even turning, and as he dropped unconscious another man stepped up as number two.

The bound woman shook her head violently from side to side. Her hair tangled around her face. She started pleading ‘No! NO!’ into the panties’n’duct tape gag. Paul’s thick cock was ten inches long, rock hard. Thick and throbbing. He forced it all the way into Alanis’s womb, via her cervix, in the first brutal thrust.

The wet slap of balls to cunt mixed with a muffled scream of pain and violation. Alanis Morissette was impaled on her rapist’s shaft. She felt like a baseball bat had been shoved inside her, and fresh tears ran down her cheeks. The agony of her torn cervix was truly mindblowing. Paul slapped her tits hard, leaving vivid red hand prints on the firm flesh. They hadn’t even stopped shuddering by the time he gripped each breast in a heavy hand and used the leverage to rape Alanis with long, deep strokes.

“I can’t believe how tight she is, and how wet! The bitch is totally getting off on this shit! She loves being raped! What a slut!”

Paul’s commentary drew some chuckles as he hammered Alanis’ cunt, but Alanis herself hated it. She wanted to black out, for the agonising fire in her crotch to end, for her rapists to be shot and buried in the desert. Paul spat right in her eye and laughed as she tried to blink the saliva out. Tears ran down her darkly flushed face. He battered her womb over and over, putting on a big show for the others to live up to. Alanis squealed with each thrust, and each muffled squeal was closer and closer together with the last as Paul sped up.

“I’m gonna come right in your womb! Holy shit! I’m coming in Alanis!”

Paul’s commentary rose in pitch as he squeezed her tits and blasted his thick seed right against the back wall of Alanis’ womb. The wet squelching grew even wetter as he emptied his balls inside her. It was the best fuck he’d ever had, with the sheer pleasure of Alanis’ tight wet cunt mixed with the feeling of power he took from her helplessness. The look of pain and terror and anger in her eyes made his week.

The second he pulled out, the next man started rubbing his smaller black tool at Alanis’s opening. Paul grabbed a beer and watched as reddish stained semen drained down the crack of Alanis’ ass around the dark purple head of the second rapist’s cock. Fergie beckoned him over, and Paul eagerly held his shaft out as she licked and sucked it clean, without missing a bounce on the cock in her own pussy. Fergie worked his cock like a pro, and his knees wobbled as her tongue lashed the spongy crown.

Alanis felt the new shaft thrust inside her a few times, and then to her surprise the rapist pulled out. The pain in her cramping arms seemed to intensify as she raised her head to see why, and then felt the prodding at her tight ass. Realisation hit and she struggled for all she was worth,

“Fucking look at this will ya! White guy fucks her, no problem. Black guy wants a piece, this cracker ho ain’t interested. I fucking hate that shit!”

He pulled back and landed a sickening punch right in Alanis’s cunt. The wet meaty impact seemed to quieten the room for a moment, but the noise immediately rose as Fergie spat out Paul’s cock and screamed like a banshee. The incredible ache in Alanis’s crotch almost made her forget all of the other aches and pains, and soreness. The black rapist ground his knuckles against her messy hole, appearing ready to fist her.

“Don’t you fucking dare do that! I want me a piece of her too before she’s stretched looser than a two buck crackho.”

Alanis sobbed bodily as the rapist forced his way into her tight, hot, ass. He wasn’t gentle, and she was sure he was tearing her internally as he grunted and increased the pressure. Once he was past her straining sphincter he slid in more easily, and pulled out to rub more of the mess leaking from her cunt around his shaft. After a few repeats of this, he was sliding easily into Alanis’s ass. He lent over the sobbing star, biting on her tits as he humped like a rabbit.

She felt like a red-hot poker was violating her ass. She tried to block it out, to lie there and take it. So the Rapist tugged on her clit, bit into her nipples. Made Alanis Morissette writhe on his cock, as much he could within her tight bondage, before collapsing with his face between her breasts as he fired his sticky load into Alanis Morissette’s rear.

He was replaced quickly, and the rape went on. Some of them fucked her ass, then stuck their dicks up her cunt to come. Some took her two at a time, dicks rubbing together as they stretched her out further. They beat her and slapped her and used her cunt and ass over and over, until everyone was satisfied. A couple of them – both Hispanic – were very gentle, drawing shameful orgasms from Alanis, to the amusement of the other gang members.

The second rapist hadn’t got to fist Alanis, but a big Hispanic gangbanger did towards the end. As his hard arm muscles stretched her out further, it seemed to Alanis as if she was giving birth. He insulted her in Spanish as he slammed his arm painfully agonisingly against her ripped cervix. He understood better than most of them that the rape wasn’t about sex, it was about power. After leaving her gaping, he got on the table to jerk off over her tits.

Fergie fucked a few guys willingly, and jerked off more as she watched the show. She got a few of them to be rough with her, willing taking a beating until some of her bruises resembled the weeping Canadian’s. Mostly though, she watched. Fergie stood at Alanis’ head, with a dozen guys’ spunk running down her thighs, and looked deeply into Alanis’ eyes. And smiled.

Nothing lasts forever though, and soon Alanis was alone on the table with a beer bottle stuffed inside her loose cunt. After a little rest, Fergie had her untied, and carried through to the hotel room’s restroom. They sat her on the toilet, and every single guy pissed over her. It took a while, and stang horribly in her eyes and sore gaping pussy. They drenched her from head to foot, until black strands of hair clung to her yellow stained skin and a lot of the cum had been washed away.

Fergie approached when the last guy had shaken off, and tore the duct tape from Alanis’s mouth. The panties caught on the sticky side, and dragged out too. Alanis squealed weakly at this pain, though it was nothing to the aching of her body.

“Here’s the thing, you foul smelling bitch. If the cops examine us both, they gonna say we both had rough sex and I’m gonna say it was consensual, that we into this shit. But you ain’t gonna be around to say different, ‘cos you’re going to throw yourself off the balcony, bitch. You been depressed!”

Fergie’s evil words had only begun to sink in when Alanis was grabbed again. She managed a terrified scream as the gangbangers carried her through the hotel room. She was just too tried and cramped to put up a true fight, and massively outnumbered. And then she was in the air.

The ground came up so very fast, and Alanis’s whole life was curiously absent. All she relived was the leering faces and cruel hands of her rapists. The wind buffeted her, twisting her body, and she landed across a small wall. Her back broke instantly, while her head slammed back into the base of the wall and smashed against the bricks. Alanis’ skull cracked like an egg. Piss exploded from her pussy was her bladder voided. Blood drained from her mouth, her eyes and ears as Alanis became another pop star statistic.

End.

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