Message-ID: <63785asstr$1471853402@assm.asstr.org>
From: Rich Humus <richhumus@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Sighs Matter, Chapter 3
Lines: 285
Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2016 04:10:02 -0400
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

As promised, Chapter 3 of Sighs Matter - see previous submission for
Chapter 1&2.

Comments to:  RichHumus@gmail.com
<1st attachment, "Sighs Matter - Chapter 3.txt" begin>

Sighs Matter

   M+/F rape, bukkake, anal, oral

   Chapter 3-Bukkake in Bosnia

   She remembered, not doubt, the event a few years ago, whilst doing
research on sectarian struggles in the Caucasus, a large gang of hoodlums
had captured us in the midst of a photo session in one rather large old
ruin.  Brandishing both Soviet and US made weapons, we tried running but an
ageing photographer and a woman wearing four-inch heels were no match for
them.  Both Tess and I have an aversion to firearms, and rather than
attempt a Rambo-like escape, we held up our hands in surrender.  Thus began
a twelve hour ordeal that was far harder on Tess than I.  We'd heard of the
`rape squads' but never dreamed they were in the locale we were in.

   A bumpy and uncomfortable half-hour ride in the back of a Toyota pickup
transported us to their field HQ, I assumed.  I was roughly pushed into a
small bungalow and tied securely to a rather spindly wooden chair.  Tess
stood nervously in the middle of the gang, her bravado not quite as strong
as normal, but she certainly hadn't broken in to a panic like some women
would normally have.  She'd been involved in studying human behavior too
long to succumb to hysterics.  A few of the men circled around her like
wolves, leering at the tall English woman that had become their prize.  Red
heels and her longish but flowing skirt led to a white blouse, her prized
South Sea pearl necklace adorning her slim neck.  As usual, she had
perfected the art of makeup and even though we were `in the field', she
never saw any reason not to project a well-coiffed image.  No dirt-smudged
cheeks for her - rosy and blushing, with eye makeup, lipstick, and the
whole works.

   One man reached out and hooked a finger in the waist of her skirt.  She
stood perfectly still, as if almost daring the man to rip it off.  He
looked at her for a second, then to his mates, and as if on a hidden
signal, he withdrew a short knife (well, it may have been a long dagger, I
couldn't really tell) and sliced right through the waist band and belt just
at her hips.

   I don't suppose they were quite ready for the sight that greeted them,
as evidenced by the excited murmurs that quickly were replaced by hoots and
cheers.

   You see, Tess never wore tights (panty-hose, I think you Yanks call
them).  As such, when the dress flew off of her, she displayed the
suspender belt and nylon stockings of a bygone age, an age that had gone by
most other women, but not Tess.  The small lacy knickers did little to hide
the rest of her charms as well.  She had just shaved that morning, and her
labia made what I believe you call a "camel-toe".  The man with the knife
stepped up to her and ran his blade right up her ribcage, slicing the
buttons from her blouse.  It was next to go.  The bra, which I'd spent
almost 20 pounds on just a few days earlier, suffered a rending tear across
its middle between her bosoms, and was unceremoniously tossed on the heap
of tattered clothing at her feet.  He kicked the mass of cloth into a
corner, and before I could say, "I say, chap, go easy on the Abercrombie &
Fitch, you know?", her complete womanly charms were exposed to the gang,
numbering somewhere between 30 and 50.

   They pushed her over to a large platform in one corner of the room,
appeared to be part dining table, part cot, and part workbench.  Her wrists
and ankles were soon secured to posts at each corner of the contraption.  I
noticed with odd detachment that they left her heels and stockings on. 
Bosom heaving, thighs quivering, and her lovely tresses tossed about in a
combination of excitement and fear, the men soon began the mass rape for
which people of their background were so well known.  But Tess never
uttered a word.  Deep down, both of us knew there was nothing we could do
to avert the impending sexual ravishment, and our experiences with several
foreign tribes had taught us that compliance, while not necessarily the
most brave thing to do, very often led to survival.  Resistance was, as the
saying goes, futile.

   The only thing odd about the entire scene, which lasted for perhaps six
hours or more, was that none of the rapists, so far as we could tell later
on, achieved a full ejaculation in either of Tess's two lower openings,
both of which saw several dozen examples of Bosnian appendage thrust
roughly into them.  The first man, evidently the leader, as he was largest
and ugliest, penetrated my wife's lovely tunnel and thrust rapidly into her
for several minutes, eliciting first a groan, then a moan, and finally
several small shrieks from Tess as she succumbed to the raw sexuality.  As
his grunts became more and more indicative of an impending climax, he
pulled suddenly out of her, clambered up to sit astride her bosoms, and
directed the entire contents of his testicles onto Tess's face and open
mouth.  Wiping the slime from his penis on her hair, he climbed off and
indicated for the next man to take his place.

   Semen-besotted and sweating from the exertion and heat, Tess endured the
next half dozen or so similar episodes, each man roughly pounding away at
her smoothly-shaven mound, framed by the garter belt and stocking tops that
were rapidly being worn to a frazzle, only to exit the more biologically
appropriate area and instead ejaculate what often appeared to be several
days of built-up seminal fluid on her flushed features.  Soon, the white
fluid was copiously deposited across all of her face, running in wet lines
from forehead to chin, pooling stingingly in her eyes and even drooling off
to run into her ears.  Much of it was directed into her mouth as she gasped
in surprise, shock, and sexual fervor.  Swallowing semen, as I said, has
never been an aversion to my lovely bride, and I'm sure much of the liquid
found its way into her grateful belly.

   After seven rapes and seven facially-directed ejaculations, the next man
loosened her ankles from the rough ropes holding her legs apart at the end
of the platform, and pushed her legs back towards her torso.  She struggled
a bit, whether to actually indicate her displeasure at the event or just to
de-cramp her legs, I don't know but the man gripped her ankles with
strength she could not overcome.  Soon, her legs bent almost double at the
waist, her hips were raised up, and, as we both feared, her anus became the
target for the next round of penile penetrations.  Luckily for her, the
lubrication offered during her first group of rapists had somewhat
sufficiently allowed her nether region to offer a not extremely unpleasant
entry, notwithstanding the fact that her first anal assault was with a
rather large fleshy weapon.

   I watched in fascinated horror as his plum-sized head paused at the
wrinkled opening to her rectum, then pushed forwards, accompanied by a
grunt from him and a groan from her, until the crown of his foreskin popped
into the small opening.  An inch of two of penile shaft quickly followed
it, as Tess groaned with the unexpected entry.  She was no stranger to
sodomy, having practiced it almost exclusively at one point in her life,
but like any other sudden entry of a large and unyielding object into a
small and still-unstretched aperture, the feeling caused some discomfort.

   The rapist continued his downwards path, until nearly all of his shaft
lay buried in my wife's lower intestine.  I saw her anal ring expand to
accommodate the intruder and a sharp intake of breath on her part confirmed
the presence of a foreign object in her rectum.  Gradually he drew it out
again, then thrust in, fully impaling her this time, and continued the
piston-like movements.  Her groans turned so whimpers then grunts as his
penis explored the interior of her most private parts.  I glanced at her
face.  Her eyes were shut in a grimace, but whether it was due to the anal
invasion or the still-gooey amounts of semen collected in her eyes, I
wasn't sure.

   After several minutes of the sodomy, her first anal attacker withdrew
his somewhat war-weary weapon and proceeded to emit his personal DNA on to
Tess's writhing body, as has forebears had done.  The first stream landed
heavily with an audible splat on one lovely breast, covering her nipple
with semen like frosting.

   His proximity to her upper body allowed the next three emissions to
cross over their pioneer and instead impact wetly on her still-sullied
face. One large dollop struck square on the tip of her patrician nose, and
fragmented to either side, leaving shiny white streaks decorating her
English rose-like face.  Her open, gasping mouth became the landing site
for the next stream of semen, covering her tongue in still more of the
white coating liberally being applied to her.  The last few ejaculations
flew onto her forehead and hair, pearling in it like small dewdrops.

   Tess, however, had little time to reflect on the situation.  Barely had
this man hopped from the bed than he was replaced at her anus with the
next. This man's penis was long, probably longer than any she'd heretofore
accepted in to that area, but fairly thin, one of the thinnest penii I'd
ever seen (not that I'd seen a lot, but....).  The men standing around her
masturbating guffawed loudly in amusement as he fisted the length of it and
rather rapidly, to my tastes anyway, began exploring the last eight or ten
inches of Tess's lower intestine with his frenulum.  Her eyes widened with
shock and awe as she felt the intruder begin the inexorable spelunking, and
I'm sure the stinging of the sperm in them only momentarily distracted her
from the rectum reaming she began to absorb.  The entry of this cudgel only
halted when his groin met her pudenda and his own buttock cheeks tightened
with the, as I well knew, superb feeling of her tightness and warmth in
that channel.

   However, it seemed that the time being spent ravishing her by the first
group had not been quite quick enough for some of the men standing around.
As Thin Man continued plundering her depths with his truncheon, one man on
her left side roughly swung his leg over her middle, and ignoring the
calves of Tess being knocked against his shoulders by the other, pushed her
bosoms together over his penis and, using the semen streaming from their
pale slopes as lubrication, rabidly, and rapidly, began thrusting his own
engorged member between them.  Each time the tip appeared beneath Tess's
chin, the shiny lubrication began leaving small spots on her cheeks as she
tossed her head.  By now, much of the earlier, unswallowed semen had slid
off her face, leaving only a sheen of wetness.  My photographer's eye noted
the light reflecting off it in the small room and I thought it would make a
good picture.

   Her chest-admirer didn't last long, for within just a few minutes, his
penis also paid a rather voluminous tribute in white to Tess's features. 
Ribbons of semen flew from his member, as he fisted it just inches from
her. Her cheeks once again were awash with reproductive fluid, and her lips
frosted with white.  I watched her swallow what amount had found its way
between them, the spider-webbed fluid noticeably clogging her mouth and
teeth.

   As soon as he fell off of her, Thin Man in her rectum appeared to have
reached the point of no return as well, and he extracted himself from her
by-now well-worn bottom and ejaculated half-a-dozen well aimed streams of
juice the entire length of her torso.  Poor Tess was rapidly being covered
by all the emissions, and despite her usual acceptance of the fluid, I
could see she was becoming somewhat overwhelmed by the evidence of her
suitors' virility.  Now that both of her lower openings had been subject to
internal inspection, it seemed that the leader determined it was time for
her to double up on her services.  Three men roughly grabbed her
unresisting body and flipped her around, re-tying her arms to the posts,
but leaving her legs unbound.  One man slid himself underneath her,
seemingly oblivious to the drippings of sauce falling from her now reversed
body, and pushed her hips down over his erection.  A second man knelt
behind her, and availed himself of the alternate route.  Tess had been
double-teamed before, but not often.  She claimed that the sensations were
just too overwhelming for her to fully enjoy the event.  She had no time to
complain, of course, as the two men timed their thrusts in opposition, one
man went deep while the other fell back.  For several minutes they worked
in what appeared to be practiced tandem, eliciting grunts and groans from
my thick-voiced wife as her lower body was subjected to the penile
penetrations.  The one in her backside appeared to reach his peak first,
and sprayed her back from her tailbone to her hair in semen.  The one below
detached his own member just a few minutes later, and fired several arcs
upwards and over her lower back, mixing his own emissions with those of his
erstwhile partner.

   I needn't bore you with the details of the remaining several hours. 
Suffice it to say that Tess was subjected to the most awful defilement that
any proper Englishwoman should ever have to endure.  Several times she
entertained three men at once, providing vaginal, anal, and oral
intercourse.  This was a combination that, so far as I knew at the time,
and later confirmed by her, was her first experience at triple penetration.
The semen ejaculated into her mouth and throat by her oral `lovers' soon
began dribbling and drooling from her lips, as the amount was simply too
much to handle at times, especially during the jostling she was receiving
below her waist.

   By the time the gonads of all those men had been drained (some of them
two or even three times, by my count), she was a wet sticky mess from head
to toe.  Almost every square inch of her formerly pristine body had felt
the wet splatterings of those men's emissions, but no part seemed more
destined to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous seminal fortune than
her lovely face.

   So much semen had been squirted upon it that it fell in waves over her
cheekbones and down her neck.  Her eyes had been so full of the salty brew
that they were bloodshot and teary.  Her coiffure was also quite besmirched
with the stain of sex.  She later admitted that she swallowed a good cupful
of the `warm and wet' during the ordeal, simply because there was no other
alternative.  As she noted, when a penis is fully embedded in one's mouth
and upper throat and ejaculates, there is no where for the semen to go but
down.  By my count, I saw 22 different men enjoy her standard feminine
charms, 18 more performed the crime against nature in her bottom, 13 raped
her mouth, and at least a dozen formed a channel between her bosoms for
their ruthless satisfaction.

   As dawn broke outside the hut's broken windows, the men drifted off, in
twos and threes, slapping each other on the back and recounting their own
adventures between the thighs of my beautiful bride.  Last to leave was the
leader.  He looked down at Tess's cream covered body and looked me in the
eye.

   "We would not spoil our seed with the chance of a half-caste foreign
child.  That is why we spilled our tallow on her.  It marks her forever. 
No matter where on her body you touch, you will always know that freedom
fighter seed has wetted that skin, covered those lips, and been down that
throat.  Remember that, English." He turned and stomped away.

   I had slowly been working the knots holding my wrists behind the chair
all night, and after another hour or so of struggle, I managed to loosen
them enough to spring from the chair once I was unbound, and rush to Tess.
The dried and caked semen on her flaked off as we covered her with my
jacket and rushed out the door.  Two days later, we were safely back on the
tarmac at Heathrow.  Tess, luckily, was not psychologically damaged by the
ordeal.  Her studies in human behavior had shown her that she was not just
an outlet for pent up sexual desire, but an object, a symbol of what those
men thought were their enemy.  Her own sexual stamina proved more than a
match for them, and they did not break her.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~
   End of Chapter 3 - Bukkake in Bosnia 

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