Niedlich goth kehrt mc85 zurück

Niedlich goth kehrt mc85 zurück
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It was an unusually cool and dry autumn that had descended over the community of Aurora. Located only a couple of miles south of the New York boarder in northern Pennsylvania, the changing colors of the trees and the crisp, cool fall air were truly something to behold. The fall festivals were in full swing, the kids were all rushed back to school, football season beginning and the leaves on the trees changing and falling with the whims of the wind.

At Aurora area high school, Kayla Campbell was just starting her junior year. She was a small petite little thing, no more than 5'-4" with straight black shoulder length hair and a very slender body to match her height. She had a bit of a reputation for fooling around with guys, especially after the summer she had just experienced.

Her parents were both unaware of her late night adventures with the boys of this little town, and it was Kayla's intent to keep it that way. Her father, Joe Campbell was a kind, genuine man who worked as mechanic at the town auto body shop.

A well built man, Joe was soft spoken and very intelligent. Kayla's mother, Sarah Campbell, was short, like Kayla herself, but a full figured woman with long black hair she always had up in a bun. Sarah worked many days and nights at the hospital as a registered nurse as well as helping out at the local food pantry.

Between their two schedules, Kayla, their only child, was left to fend for herself on most nights. Kayla hadn't gotten as early a start on experimenting with boys like many of the girls she had grown up with had.

Rumor and gossip in the small town of Aurora were both intoxicating and pervasive and many high school girls filled their days with it. While she didn't actively participate in spreading or discussing anyone else's personal life, she did have ears and had grown up listening to others and their dirty deeds with a growing inquisitive interest. The things Kayla heard at school about other girls and what they were doing in and outside of school, at first, shocked her.

As Kayla matured however, her understanding of what was occurring and how her mind was picturing the acts in progress began to both entice and excite her. Rumors of Sally Summers giving head to Joe Gamble, the starting running back of the football team, two years ago had proven true and especially scandalous for poor Sally, who had to endure several weeks of cat calls and ass pinches between classes.

She was always such a sweet girl, very kind and good-natured, but had now developed a very severe form of social anxiety. Just last year Jennifer Kane, an honors student and external bookworm, had been rumored to have an orgy with several members of the boy's soccer team after one of their many losses.

Though it was never definitely confirmed that that had occurred, she did start hearing her hair differently and had added a few more skirts and more revealing blouses to her wardrobe since that incident. Of course the cheer-leading squad was saturated with sluts and whores and their exploits with various guys (and sometimes girls) from various teams were a staple of the school rumor mill.

For having a grand total of 680 total students in this grade 9-12 high school, any inspired journalism student could have ran a weekly publication on the various scandals and tantalizing details of such events. Unfortunately for the salivating masses, and fortunately for those guilty sinners, no such journalism student presented themselves.

This new school year however (Kayla's junior year) began significantly slower in the rumor department than many would have guessed. Most of the guilty parties who were "the regulars" had mostly all graduated last term.

The new senior class had significantly less scandal attached to them. Kayla was genuinely disappointed by this lack of material. Often she would spend her time at school sitting idly by and listening for the latest nugget of sex and debauchery. When she would glean what so-and-so did with what's-his-name, she would fantasize about someone doing those sorts of things with, and in some cases to, her.

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As such, she was unable to catch any new gossip. She so desperately wanted new additions to her fantasies. Her habit, as it was, included going home after school, rushing up to her room, keeping the lights of her room off, stripping all of her garments off and crawling under her bed sheets and her big purple fluffy comforter that must have weighted 30 pounds.

She would allow the darkness under those covers to create an arena for her minds imagination to spill out and grow all over her. Her hands would both, in unison, find their way sliding across her chest and down her stomach to her crotch.

Every so often wetting the tips of her fingers with her mouth she would begin to rub her clit and slide her fingers over and around her bare, exposed pussy. The rumors would fuel her sexual drive and she would imagine the boys from the soccer team taking turns with her, passing her back and forth as they grabbed her firm and ripe breasts and shoved their rock hard dicks in between her legs.

She imagined taking a guys dick into her mouth and feeling the warmth of its essence fill her up as it slid both in and out of her. Sometimes, if the gossip was particularly juicy that day, she would gain that heightened sense of pleasure several times.

As the school year continued along, her imagination began to dry up and her excitement for her after school activity began to wither. Desperately wanting something new to excite her she let her memories of the previous summer be her inspiration. -- -- It had been a blur of a summer. Kayla's guy she had been fooling around with had been one of those infamous graduated seniors. Greg Carlson was a good looking, well put together kid.

Not a complete jock per say, he was an honors student first and foremost, but he was certainly able to hold his own in the locker room also. He was slightly over 6 foot tall with wavy blonde hair and a moderate muscular build.

He had been a track star as well as a shortstop on the baseball team. By the time she had started hooking up with Greg she had already touched and been toughed by several equally curious boys in the years preceding him. She had, by her own admission to herself, mastered the art of the hand job; she had given several very spirited blow-jobs and had lost her virginity in the parking lot of the city park late one Saturday night to Randall Hedges.

Randall was her lab partner in science class and had a rather bad habit of letting his hands wander under the lab table, which Kayla, not the type of girl to miss the chance of new-found pleasures in brand new fantasies, obliged. Kayla had discovered the erotic sense of "leading the guy on" could be a fascinating turn on. She couldn't stop herself sometimes, but every so often, when Greg had his hand up her shirt and his tongue lodged firmly in her mouth, she would slam on the breaks and say she was tired and wanted to go home.

Greg would grit his teeth and mutter some expletives and then oblige her in driving her home, raging erection and all. For a solid week she refused to touch his rock hard dick hidden just underneath his underwear.

She allowed him to run his fingers anywhere and everywhere he wanted, often grabbing at her panties and pushing them aside to discover the mysteries that lay beneath. She, on the other hand, would undo his belt, lift his shirt, kiss his bare stomach and slide his pants down and, leaving Greg's underwear right where they were, let her fingers trace little lines around his groin.

When Greg would try to slide his underwear down, she would stop him, playfully shake her finger in his face and smile. With that oh-so-sweet giggly smile, she would tell him she wasn't ready to see it quite yet. She would then proceed to run her fingers up and around and toward (but never on) his trembling cock.

She would get soaking wet just watching him squirm under the light scratches and accurately placed fingertips around his crotch. Not intending to risk the fun, Kayla informed her friends that she intended to shove all of his cock into her mouth after the Baseball game that Friday night. Both her friends giggled with raised eyebrows and excited imaginations upon hearing this and wished her well in her attempts to take all seven inches of Greg Carlson (Kayla had done a crude measurement using the side of her hand one of those nights).

As she dressed for the game Friday afternoon, she imagined sucking Greg's dick and hearing his reaction to the sudden attention paid to his quivering member. Despite the weather report of an abnormally chilly night, she decided a short blue denim skirt with a black string thong was going to be the most provocatively enticing choice this evening. Her tight fitting black school spirit shirt, which clung to her perfectly in her imagination, would match that skirt perfectly. She decided to go with her 2 year old grey converse all-stars with a pair of short black socks to complete the look and she would let her straight black hair fall free, playfully, around her face.

At the last moment and without much thought to the consequences, she flung off her bra and threw on the black shirt. Her breasts were exceptionally noticeable in this tight fitting cotton shirt and her erect nipples in the cold night air would be all but obvious.

She didn't mind who saw them tonight, most likely everyone, so long as Greg took notice. Kayla had gotten her license a few short months ago and she had been given a shaky but pretty reliable car from her dad.

It wasn't going to win any awards for style or aesthetics, but it would get you from point A to B every time, which is all her dad cared about. Kayla was more pleased with the spacious backseat and the fold-down-flat front seats. So she darted quickly down the stairs, around the kitchen counters, grabbed the keys out of the change bowl by the sink, and flung herself out the side door toward her homely car. She enjoyed watching Greg play baseball in the summer, mostly because it allowed her plenty of time to imagine all the naughty interchanges between the two of them that would occur later those evenings.

As he would round the bases or field fly balls, she would sit in the stands, pondering the raunchy things they would soon discover they could to with one another. Once Greg's game concluded that Friday evening, Kayla rushed down the bleachers to the field to congratulate her man. Usually Greg and Kayla would meet face to face through a section of chain link fence right next to the dugout after his games. He would flash his genuine smile, the one that would tell anyone who saw it that they were lucky to be alive, and it would melt Kayla's heart every time.

Yet, this time, as he approached their section of fence, he did not look up and smile. He did not look up, nor did he smile. He kept his head down, walked up to and right on past their section of fence and kept going. Kayla's heart sank and her mind raced.

'Why didn't he look at me?' 'Is he mad at me?' 'Have I done something wrong?' Clearly agitated and very confused, she sprinted down the length of the fence to the end of the enclosed storage area behind the dugout where the guys would keep their gear. She was not allowed access to see him, so she decided she would wait for him there.

Several agonizing minutes passed by along with a couple of Greg's teammates. She would catch their glances and avert her eyes almost instantly, not wanting them to see her embarrassment or shame as they passed. She thought she heard one of the boys mutter something as he passed, but she couldn't quite make it out. She was preparing to leave in a full fit of disgust and anger when she saw Greg's face pop out from around the side of the dug-out. His face was still not back to its natural genuinely pleasant state; it seemed like he was deep in thought as he looked out toward her.

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His hand appeared next and with it he beaconed her toward the dugout. She gave a quick glance around and noticed all the other families and girlfriends and fans had long since left. The parking lot held only a handful of cars, including Greg's and her own. She hesitated, and then stumbled forward toward the dugouts entrance. As she rounded the corner, she had begun to quickly refresh all the nagging questions in her head that she wanted to pour over Greg, yet once she was just inside the threshold of the building, she was grabbed by several sets of hands.

These hands quickly pressed her up against the inside wall, a strip of duct tape was smushed over her mouth and a black bag was thrown over her head. It had all happened so suddenly and with the glare of the sun she didn't get even a faint glimpse of any of the guys. Disoriented and scared, the sets of hands lead her into the back locker area. As she was lead deeper inside she could hear the sound of several showers running and could feel the steam of the warm water hitting the cold tiles beneath.

The door closed soundly behind her with the definite click of a lock to hammer home the point that she was trapped inside this locker room with a number of very strong and determined guys. The sets of hands made quick work of the next series of events that were to follow. As her arms were being held behind her back by a very strong pincer like set of hands, other sets rushed to the various articles of clothing she had on.

Her shoes and socks were cast aside with reckless abandon; her skirt was torn down over her ass to expose the tiny black thong she had hidden beneath. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her throat. Kayla kept trying to call out or scream, but the duct tape and black bag restricted and muffled all the sound she could muster. She began to notice her body reacting to this situation. Her nipples were standing erect, pushing hard against the fabric of the shirt she, for the moment, still had on.

Her pussy was saturated and she felt herself start to sweat. Maybe it was the steam from the showers, or the body heat of the guys surrounding her or the growing amount of sexual arousal she had at that moment. Regardless, she was sure she would be sweating profusely in a matter of moments.

Just then one of the sets gripped her tiny black thong and pulled violently upward. A stabbing pain shot through Kayla and she let out a shriek of agony. The offending hand let go of the thong as it snapped back into place, forcing Kayla to yelp yet again.

There were hushed words a couple of feet from her and it was clear that really hurting Kayla was not the intention of this experience. A few seconds later the hands resumed fondling Kayla, but even underneath the mask and the duct tape she sensed Greg was organizing this and this filled her with a flood of relief. She began to smile in a way that made it hard for the tape and bad to conceal. Her thong was slid down this time and she felt it drop helplessly to her ankles.

Her legs began to shake as the tension of the hands began to ratchet up again. Though it was now clear that these men had no intention of harming her, they definitely wanted something and were going to take it by force if they had to. Her poor shirt, the last remaining article on her, thanks to her hasty decision to discard her bra earlier, was torn asunder and cast aside on the damp floor.

The lack of bra sent a wave of laughter through the guys surrounding her. A yet to be identified voice remarked "hot damn, we got ourselves a little skank!" Now fully exposed, with a bag over her head and a strip of tape covering her mouth in front of still unknown number of guys (she guessed 5, but perhaps one or two more) she felt a zip-tie slide around her wrists and cinch tight.

Another around her elbows solidified her helpless pose. She was then pushed quickly into the shower room and was sprayed with water from all directions.

All the showers were apparently on full blast and turned to high heat. As Kayla hit one of the beams of hot water, she attempted a side step to save most of her from the sharp pain. Unfortunately she lost her footing and fell into a puddle of water pooling around her.

After rolling around on the floor scrambling, she felt the sets of hands return to her. Sharp claws dug into her rosy pink flesh, picked her up off the wet floor and pushed her toward another open and awaiting set of claws.

Laughter followed as she was tossed sharply between the several guys. Her ass was smacked several times very hard and her breasts were groped and fondled.


Several times a set of hands clamping onto her bare awaiting tits and hoisted her up onto her toes and then briefly into the air. Her hair was pulled, her pussy fondled and her face smacked. Kayla could feel the blood surging under her skin and the red marks begin to appear all over her.

This went on for what she guessed was ten minutes. She was finally "caught" by a very large set of arms she did not recognize. Her attempts of finding Greg in the groping and fondling had proved useless. As she was held facing away from the owner of the large set of arms, she could hear the water faucets steadily turned off one by one.

Once the last faucet was extinguished she heard his voice.

Greg. Like a mighty sword stabbing the darkness she was imprisoned by, she clung to his words as he spoke them. "Kayla. You little bitch. This is what you get for holding out on me. I want you, Kayla. I want to fuck your brains out." God, his words were powerful.

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The way he spoke them and the way they sounded in her ears, she could have listened to him speak forever. "And when I am done with you, you little whore, these guys will get a turn." Kayla's legs really started to tremble at this point. The arms that held her were like stone yet seemed to continue to constrict her as Greg continued to speak.

Her pussy felt like it was literally dripping in anticipation.

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Kayla had experienced sex before, but always one on one and always as the one in control. Now, hands and arms bound, view obstructed and mouth silenced, she wasn't going to tell any of these large men what to do.

Kayla was lead out of the shower room and into the main locker room. A draft was coming in from somewhere, she guessed a vent. Her body was still covered in water and the cold hair caused her skin to tense up and her nipples to stand on ceremony once again. Lead by an angry pair or hands to the middle of the room, her mind raced with what was to come. The hands stopped her movement with a violent jerk and gave her nipples a sharp pinch just for good measure.

That's when she felt something slide over her head and around her throat. Most definitely rope. Most definitely tied in a knot around her neck. She felt the other end extend upward toward the ceiling and sensed the other end of the rope moving, not yet tied onto the end of anything. She felt the slack go out from the rope and tension build in the thick coarse material currently constricting her.

She felt her neck tense in response, her back flex straight and her body shoot straight up on her toes.


Her wrists squirmed against their binds, but to no avail. She could feel the blood rushing to her head and her lungs begging her for another breathe. A very strained gurgling noise was all that she could muster. The ropes tension was relinquished and she felt herself droop back down to the floor.

Kayla swallowed and took in a deep breathe before she was strung up yet again. This time her feet completely left the floor and her legs kicked out vigorously. Coughing and gagging were the only things Kayla could utter. She smacked her bound hands off her ass attempting to free them. Again, the rope rescinded. Her breathe returned to her and the coughing subsided. The rope was looped over a metal pipe in the ceiling, or so she guessed. The other end of the rope was guided toward her.

She felt her left ankle clamped onto and lifted up to her chest. Her leg naturally stretched itself out straight and she felt the rope wrap around her fully extended ankle. She figured out that the rope around her neck was now looped over a pipe over her head and back down to her left ankle. Her right leg, propped up on her toes again, supported all of her weight.

What she also figured out was as her weight shifted forward and backward, she could feel either the rope around her neck or the rope around her ankle tense up. She could give her ankle a slight bit of reprieve when she forfeited the ability to breathe or she could just barely breathe with the rope digging into her ankle.

Her choice. As she was shifting between the two uncomfortable poses, she sensed the guys around her position themselves in a tight circle around her. Kayla's shifting immediately stopped. She could feel a pair of hands on her chest, right above her breasts and just below her throat. She knew those hands. Greg! She felt Greg lean in close and press his lips onto hers through the bag she still had on her head.

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Even through the duct tape she could taste his kiss. There was passion, a boundless exuberance flowing from those lips to hers. Like his voice, she could have those lips cascading over her all night long. As his lips left hers she felt him press his exposed dick right on her pussy. Between her neck and her ankle, she had completely forgotten how wet she was and how much her body throbbed for his cock.

Her right leg, the one bearing all the weight, began to tremble noticeably. In one excruciatingly slow move he slid inside her. Her moan began sharp and sudden, but kept coming out of her as he slowly inserted himself into her; like he was drawing her moan out of her.

Her hands grabbed onto the only things within their reach, her ass. Her nails digging into her ass, her body trembling on one leg, her neck and leg flexing painfully, the feeling of being surrounded and groped by many large men, and a powerful dick impaling her; she knew right then she would crave situations like this for the rest of her life.

She knew it now, that sense of being dominated, being forced to fuck a larger man whom she could not see. Her body pulsed with every thrust. She could also faintly feel more hands caressing various parts of her.

There were at least two on her breasts, a pair on her ass, and one clenched over her throat, but not squeezing too hard.

As Greg fucked her she could hear the other guys grunting and cheering him on. "Fuck her Greg." "Make her cum man!" "I want to hear that bitch scream". Their wandering hands and their violent tones and their harsh words all made her crave Greg's dick more.

Though she was not at all aware of it, she was thrusting back just as hard on Greg as he was in her. Every couple of moments Kayla would realize she couldn't breathe.

She would strain her neck back and attempt to further arch her back. This would provide her airway with just enough room to function, but this gave Greg a better angle to slide his dick in deeper into her.


Kayla would feel his dick slide in that deep and begin to wobble, losing the ability to breathe again. This see-saw battle for air was making her very light headed and it didn't help that Greg was apparently just getting started with her. It was about at this point that one of those wandering hands around her ass helped to propel her to her first mind numbing orgasm. Kayla felt the hand first cup her one butt cheek and then start to slide toward her hole.

Clenching her ass did little to impede his progress as his index finger found her ass with relative ease. In the position she was tied in, her wetness had completely covered her pussy, began to drip down her right leg and moisten up her asshole. As her body continued to betray her, this new finger in her ass started twitching back and forth feverishly. No one had ever stuck a finger in her ass before, even one just slightly in like his now.

Her body tensed as she sensed the eruption pending. Kayla felt her eyes roll in her head and her moans escape with no hope of stopping them. Her pussy and ass simultaneously pulsed as she convulsed on Greg. He must have felt her give up on standing because she felt his arms pick her up, one under each leg and start ramming her. Kayla threw her head back and let out a cry of release. His dick felt so good in her and that other boy's finger in her ass had not stopped twitching.

Now fully lifted up off the floor, the rope that had been strangling her was hanging slack over her. Greg pulsed his dick deep into her and she sensed his own eruption to soon follow. She felt Greg tense up, first in his arms, then in his abdomen and finally through his cock.

Greg twitched and dug his nails into her legs as his dick unloaded all of his cum into her. As he came, she could feel the rope tightening again, a clear sign that he was losing strength in his arms. Greg gently replaced Kayla into the position she had originally been put in and her breathing problems started up again.

She felt Greg leave her pussy and step away from her entirely. "Boys, she is all yours." The rest of the guys took turns on Kayla.

Every one of them filled her with their seed. Her muscles, painfully drawn by the end of her ordeal, screamed for this to end. Kayla had cum on just about every one of their dicks, mostly because she started noticing how different each one was and how their owners used them.

By the end, her pussy was raw, her ass beet red from all the slaps and smacks, her nipples felt like they were seconds from falling off, and her throat was sore from all the muffled screams, gasps, moans and groans. After all the guys had their fill with her, the rope was cut and she was helped over to a bench. As she heard the rest of the guys getting dressed, she rested her body on the long pine board; her heart still pounding away and her body and hair saturated in sweat.

The guys filed out quickly and she felt Greg's hand on her hip. Once the last guy left the locker room Greg removed Kayla's blindfold bag and the duct tape.

The relief flooded his face as he saw how gigantic of a smile was imprinted on Kayla's weary face. She had loved it and loved every second of it. He cut the binds around her hands and arms and let her put on an old pair of gym shorts and the batting practice shirt that Greg had worn earlier.

Greg lead her to her car (right next to his and the last two in the lot) with his arms wrapped around her. He kissed her goodbye with that boundless passion she was sure she would never get enough of.

The smile never left her face even as she drove home. Sneaking upstairs, she stripped the borrowed articles of clothing along the way. As she crawled back under the covers, she felt her hands return to their all too familiar spot. As much as her pussy ached from the pounding it had just taken, she couldn't get the mental images she had imagined the entire time out of her head.

She gently guided herself to a couple of soft, pleasant orgasms and drifted off, naked and blissful, under her covers.