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Subject: THE NET
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WARNING: This story contains adult material and rape.
It is to be read by adults only. If this stuff offends you
then don't read this.

                          THE NET

Her name was Angela Bennett and she was a wanted fugitve.
Angela was a pretty brunette in her late twenties. She had a nice
trim body and a decent pair of tits. She was smart and beautiful.

Angela was a computer expert who had come across some secret
information that was not meant for her eyes. She had accidentally
stumbled upon a secret that wanted to take over the world through
technology.

These people had erased her exsistance and stolen her life. Angela
Bennett ceased to exsist. She was given the identity of a criminal
named Liz Marks and every law enforcement agency in the country
was looking for her.

So Angela was on the run, constantly on the move and always
looking over her shoulder. People were trying to kill her and she
could trust no one. Angela had to live in the shadows and assume
countless other identities to survive.

Currently, she was Angela Watkins and she was in Los Angeles. She was working
at a night club as a cocktail waitress. She had been at the club for almost
two months now and she knew her luck wouldn't hold out forever.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
--- ----  If it weren't against the rules she would have worn ear  plugs all
night long. As it was she could only get away with that when the boss wasn't
around. Angela worried about her hearing sometimes, as the pounding music
poured out of the speakers all around the club.

Still, it was a great job, with good tips, and she needed it
if she was going to keep running from her enemies and
fighting back. She'd only been here a couple of weeks, but
was already adept at picking her way through the crowded
dance floor and even more crowded tables in the near dark,
with the lights flashing and the mist swirling around her
knees.

Like all the girls she wore a high heels, a tight black mini
skirt, black stockings, a white blouse with a red bow tie,
and a black hip length jacket. Her hair, which she would
have liked to tie up tightly, was hanging loose around her
head and flowing over the shoulders of her black jacket in
a golden wave of silk.

Well, that was just as well, the better she looked the more
tips she made, and if the swirling hair made her job more
difficult, the money was worth it. She smiled constantly,
displaying her perfect white teeth and full, sensuous lips,
 wanting the customers to like her.

Her long legs, perfectly sculpted and tapered, were also
big helps in her quest for high tips, and though she suffered
the occasional grope, she knew the mini-skirt was well worth
it. It was a sexist world, she sighed, and if her long legs,
her shapely behind and her pretty face got her more money,
well, who was she to complain.

Angela smiled at a half drunken guy in a blue suit as she
 passed. His eyes gleamed as he looked at her, and she knew
 he was staring at her ass and thighs as she moved on. He
said something which she didn't make out. One thing the
loud music was good for was droning out dirty comments
from perverts.

She went to the bar and got a half a dozen drinks for table
seven, groaning as another old song came over the sound
system. The club catered to the thirtysomething crowd, and
so played music not to the taste of the younger girl.

Angela took the drinks back to the tables, mentally calculating
what her tip would be from the group of people there. Tonight
would be a good one, she thought, the place was packed.

She delivered the drinks, smiled prettily, then turned and
made her way across the edges of the dance floor. Somebody
in the crowd managed to dart a hand out and grope her breast,
and she almost dropped the tray of empty glasses.

The girl turned and glared at the crowd but couldn't make
out who's hand it had been in the near darkness and blinking
lights. She went on to the bar, thinking of how she'd no doubt
look back on this place with fondness when her nightmare was
over.

The saw by the clock over the bar that it was nearly 2 a.m.
Angela had to call a friend of hers soon. Her friend worked
odd hours and would just be gettin home about now. Angela
pushed her way through the crowd, catching just the tips
of someone's fingers as the guy tried to slip them under her
skirt.

Angela cursed them all as dirty old men and got through to
the other side, going out into the entrance hall, then turning
left and going up the stairs to the women's bathroom.

There was a long line of women waiting outside and she
 knew it would take forever to get in to use the phone in
the powder room. She turned and went down the hall past
the men's room. Just around the corner were several wooden
phone booths.

Even up here the music pounded furiously, for the management
had been kind enough, or stupid enough, she thought, to install
speakers up here. There was even a drunken couple dancing
up the hall.

Angela got into one of the phone booths and closed the door,
dimming out about ninety percent of the noise. The phone booths
with their nearly sound proof walls and doors were one of the few
things in this place she approved of.

She dialled the friend's home and got the answering machine.
So Angela left a message and started to exit the booth. She
turned and opened the door, and was immediately assaulted by
the blaring music.

It made her pause for a second, and then from out of nowhere
someone was shoving her back into the phone booth. "Hey!" she
 yelled, the words drowned out by the music.

He was a big guy, his arms thick, muscles hard on his chest. His
name was Morgan and he was a strong, mean bastard. He was
white, and wore an expensive silk suit, his hair was short and
he had broad shoulders. His teeth gleamed white as he forced
her back against the wall and mashed his lips against hers.

Angela cursed and tried to push him off as one of his hands
seized her hair and the other slid between her legs, forcing
her leg up and back.

"Let me go, you fucker!" she snarled, pounding on his chest
with her small hands. He tore at her hair, forcing her head
back. Angela gasped in pain, then gurgled as his tongue shot
into her mouth. Her shoulders were slammed back into the
corner of the phone booth and her left leg shoved up high and
hard against one wall.

 His hand jammed in between her thighs then, squeezing her
pussy through her panties. He seized them and tore them from
 her with one powerful jerk. Angela tried to scream again but
his mouth covered hers and his body crushed her into the back
of the phone booth.

The music screamed around them and people passed by in the
near darkness, either not noticing or assuming they were a
pair of lovers. Nobody interfered as Morgan undid his zipper
and brought his cock out.

Angela cried out in shock and fear when she felt it pressing
against her naked pussy. She struggled with new fury, but her
left arm was crushed between one wall and her body and her
right was easily pushed back by his shoulder.

His face was rough, needing a shave, and he had a large mouth.
His eyes gleamed cruelly as he stared at her, and then she grunted
and cried out again as his large cock entered her and thrust up
high into her belly.

Angela tried to scream again but his mouth mashed down on hers,
locking tightly as his tongue slithered inside her oral cavity like
a maddened snake. His hips pounded against her thighs, ramming
her left leg back against the wall again and again.

His cock drove up high inside her. It was long, and very thick.
Angela gasped and her eyes teared from the pain as the fat organ
stabbed into her repeatedly. His hand gripped her thigh again,
shoving it back and holding it against the wall as he pumped more
 smoothly.

Her mind was in a state of shock that she could be assaulted
right here inside the club and nobody would help. Angela could
see nothing beyond the man's massive body. Her own body was
shielded from the sight of the few patrons who passed by.

The man clutched her soft buttocks and his fingers dug into
the warm flesh, clawing hard at them. She whimpered helplessly,
then grunted and moaned in despair as she felt him force a
finger up into her asshole.

Her crotch and thighs ached as he continued ram his lower
body into her. He kept firm control of her head, holding tightly
 to her light brown hair, yet even when she held her face still and
submitted to his oral rape he continued to tug and twist her hair.

Morgan pulled his mouth from hers at last, sniggering loud enough
for her to hear in the small, soundproof booth. "Dirty little whore,"
he leered. "Like it, baby? Wagging your ass around all night! Think
you can do that and not get fucked you little slut? You fucking
bitches always want big cocks anyway. Don't ya! Hah?!"

Morgan stuck his tongue out and licked a long trail up the side of
her face, then licked her forehead and along the underside of her
jaw. He let go of her hair at last and she groaned in relief, but
his hand slipped up between their bodies and clutched her right
titty, mashing it through her blouse.

He tore her shirt open, simple enough as it closed down the
front with snap buttons, then ripped her thin bra and groped her
bare titties as his cock continued to thrust up into her fuck pipe.
Angela had stopped trying to fight and was just waiting for
him to finish, her mind and body both numbed by the sudden brutal
assault.

Her rapist continued to ram his manhood into her for several long
 minutes before he groaned and halted with his organ buried inside
her guts. She imagined the sticky wads of cum spurting into herself
and cringed inwardly.

Angela was relieved though, that he had cum, that the attack was
done. No doubt he would no leave. Morgan seemed in no hurry to
 do so, though. He continued to lick and kiss her face, his hand
groping, squeezing her breasts,fondling her nipples, pinching and
 pulling at them so they hardened.

Angela felt his cock softening and he eased himself backwards,
but made no effort to open the door and leave the little booth,
instead he gave her another awful leering smile and pushed down
 on her shoulders, forcing her down onto her knees on the floor
of the booth.

She was facing his flaccid cock and he gripped her hair again
as he rubbed the cum stained prick across her face. "Suck it hard
 again, bitch, and I'll throw you another fuck," Morgan said.

Angela's heart sank and she groaned in misery. Not only was he
staying but down here she was all but invisible to any passersby,
for the sides of the booth were all wood up to waist height, and
glass only from there. Down on her knees nobody could see she was
even in the booth.

Morgan jerked sharply on her hair and pushed his soft monster
cock against her lips. Angela had no choice but to open her mouth
and take the thing inside. She sucked on it as she drew it in, her
tongue rubbing carefully along the underside of the head.

The rapist continued to grip her hair, now with both hands as he
sighed in pleasure. Angela's mind was no completely numb, almost
detached from her body as she sucked mechanically on the man's
already growing erection.

Soon she was bobbing her lips back and forth on the hardened
organ as he slowly humped his hips in and out, fucking the cock
into her face. Her hands dropped limp at her sides and she simply
knelt there as though anaesthetized while he pumped his thick meat
into her mouth.

Morgan pulled harder on her hair, forcing the dazed girl to her
feet again, turning her around and jamming her face first into the
back of the phone booth. Angela felt him jerk her skirt upwards and
felt his hands on her behind.

The brute's finger pushed into her anus again, and pumped slowly,
then withdrew. A moment later she felt his erection pushing against
her little round hole. Angela thought little about it, being too numbed
 by then. His cock eased up into her asshole with slow jabs.

 The organ forced her anus wide and the pain was sharp, but did
not last long as he drove the thing all the way up into her guts. She
felt his balls pressing against her buttocks as he gnawed on the side
of her throat and ground his hips into her.

His cock moved around inside her rectum as he brought his big
hands around her and cupped both breasts, squeezing them hard.
He slowly began to pump his cock, using short strokes at first.
His right hand slid down her bare belly and in between her thighs,
rubbing at her slit, his finger searching for her clitty.

Morgan rubbed her fuck button as he did a slow motion grind into
her anus, his cock pumping slowly, now moving from side to side,
his pants scraping against her soft ass flesh, his zipper pinching
her anal opening.

Angela didn't move,she hardly had the strength or awareness to stand
up. Her face was still pressed into the back wall of the phone booth
as his heavy framed body moved against her.

In her dulled state it was some time before she became aware,
in a vague sort of way, that her body was feeling pleasure. Angela
took little interest in it, though acknowledging the pleasurable
feelings. Her breasts were hardened, flaring with heat as his
fingers moved into and around them, her clitty was sizzling with
lust as his fingers continued to rub, stroke and squeeze the little
bud.

The pleasure grew, eating away at her detachment, slowly
drawing her back into herself, to the awareness of the raw
sensuality gripping her loins, to the sensations of steaming heat
streaming through her bloodstream, rippling up and down her nervous
system.

Her eyes blinked in wonder and dazed consternation. She felt
her body flying higher and higher, her belly heaving and churning
and raging, a massive vortex of blistering sexual heat tearing
through her innards. "No," Angela whimpered.

Then her head jerked back as a sudden spasm of lust burned
through her spine. Angela gasped for breath, the wind all but knocked
out of her. Her forehead fell against the wall, then her head
jerked back again, even further, her back arching as muscle spasms
wracked her body and her mind reeled under frantic sensations of
blaring ectatic release.

Angela Bennett came with a furious crescendo of shrieking sexual
eruptions, her body jerking and shuddering as though undergoing a
violent seizure.

Somewhere in the midst of it the fugitive felt a flood of liquid heat
blasting up into her asshole, felt it coating her insides with
sticky, steamy goo.

She couldn't think straight, could hardly think at all, knew
nothing but glorious pleasure that ripped the air from her lungs
and the thoughts from her mind, leaving a quivering frame of flesh
behind.

And then she was sinking down, down, to the bottom of the
booth, turning, her back against the wall, her legs spread as she
slid to one side to be propped against a wall, staring dull eyed at
the floor.

Morgan left quickly, but she remained there, sitting on the
floor, staring, her eyes starting to flutter even as her chest
heaved. Angela drew in great lung full of air and groaned weakly.

Finally, after several minutes, Angela pulled herself to her shaky
feet and stumbled out into the darkened hall and the blaring music,
leaving her torn panties behind. She went back to her room,she was
done working at the club. She couldn't go to the police or tell anyone
what had happened. It would draw too much attention to her. Angela
HAD to get her life back and stop running.


               The end.




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