Gentle Violator

Denis and his friends liked to unwind in a special way sometimes – they would hire one prostitute for all of them and pass her around roughly. Denis was the oldest among them, just over thirty, while the others were around 25–26. On this autumn evening, all the guys gathered at the apartment they rented together specifically for their entertainment, and they were in the mood to have a good time. But everything fell apart – the prostitute didn't show up, and there was no time to find another one; their dicks were already buzzing with anticipation of a quick fuck. Then one of the guys suggested visiting a girl who lived nearby. He said she was a local slut and wouldn't mind servicing them, and besides

they wouldn't have to pay her. Everyone agreed, but Denis wasn't entirely pleased with the idea – the prostitute was tried and tested, great, but who knew what this local girl was like.

When they went up a couple of floors, Max – the one who suggested the girl – rang the doorbell.

— Who is it?" asked a girl's voice, and Max lied:

— Cable TV.

The door swung open, and immediately Max shoved the hostess inside, clearing the way for the other guys.

Denis immediately realized that Max had lied – this was no slut, but an ordinary girl. Quite pretty, very young, around 18 years old. Unbleached, light brown hair lay in a thick wave on her shoulders, huge blue eyes, not a trace of makeup on her pretty little face. She was in a robe – clearly not expecting anyone.

— Is anyone else home?" Max hissed in the girl's face. She shook her head fearfully, and he smiled predatorily: "Great. Guys, what do you think?" He grabbed the girl by the shoulders and turned her to face the other guys, showcasing her charms.

Everyone buzzed with approval, and only Denis reminded him disapprovingly:

— You said she was a local whore. She doesn't look like a slut to me.

— What difference does it make, slut or not... Don't you like the girl?" Max snapped aggressively.

Denis didn't answer, and the next second the guys were already dragging the resisting girl into the apartment. Pulling her into the bedroom, they threw her on the bed and tore off her robe. She was left only in her panties – ordinary, cotton ones, with a naive floral pattern. Immediately, two of them pinned her arms, forcing her to sit on the bed, and Max began slapping the girl's cheeks, ignoring her screams.

— Please, don't!" she cried. "I'll give you anything you want, money, gold. Don't touch me!!!" She burst into tears when one of the guys unzipped his pants and slapped her face with his erect dick.

— Shut up, bitch," Max ordered and grabbed her small breasts, pinching her young nipples hard. The girl cried, her face turned red, and it was clear she was absolutely not happy with what was happening. Denis stood at a distance and watched the scene with displeasure. No, he wouldn't participate in this. This was pure rape. One thing was to fuck a prostitute who would get money for it and would probably manage to get some pleasure too, and quite another to torment an ordinary girl, unaroused, frightened, crying.

— Hey," he said to Max. "This is no fucking whore. Let's get out of here.

But no one answered him – everyone had already taken off their pants and surrounded the girl, pressing their protruding dicks to her head and tits. Driven by animal lust, the scumbags slapped the girl, feeling not an ounce of compassion for her. They pinched her nose, forced her to open her mouth, and made her suck each of the four in turn. After poking inside her cheeks, each one spat copiously into her mouth after his turn, and then the next dick invaded the girl's tortured lips.

Denis didn't want to torment the girl, but lust stirred in him too. Sitting down next to her, he began stroking her young, firm body, caressing her breasts, gently tickling her pussy, trying to ease her suffering a little with tenderness. But his efforts were in vain – she wasn't wet, not aroused at all. Between sobs and slapping sounds coming from her mouth, which the others were still tormenting with their dicks, he heard her crying and screaming. Then Denis began skillfully licking her, but even that didn't please her; she kept crying.

Leaving her mouth alone, the guys decided it was time to move on to the main event, and two of them grabbed her legs, lifted and spread them as wide as possible, one slapped her breasts, and Max positioned himself between the poor girl's spread thighs.

— Well, is the pussy ready?" he asked and roughly rubbed her crotch. Finding her dry, he spat into her vagina and abruptly inserted his dick inside. The girl screamed piercingly and then burst into tears, and Denis saw blood flowing from her crotch. He immediately understood what had happened and hissed at Max, who was pounding the little one with all his might.

— Fuck, are you insane??? She's a virgin!

— Not anymore," Max retorted and continued fucking the sobbing girl in her torn crotch.

Denis simply went berserk, his dick immediately went limp, and he said to the others with disgust:

— I'm not participating in this brutality." He got up and left the room.

At first, he wanted to leave altogether, but something made him stay, and he went to the kitchen. Looking around the apartment, he became completely convinced that this girl was absolutely normal – everything was clean, tidy, cozy in a homely way: toys, books, little flowers. Prostitutes don't live in apartments like this. In the bathroom, where he went to wash his hands, he saw pink towels, a rug, flowers again. Everything indicated that the girl was romantic, gentle, even naive. Remembering her crucified body with the bleeding crotch, Denis trembled with rage and hatred toward his comrades. He was a man too, he loved fucking women, but one must know the boundaries, who is acceptable and who isn't. Was there really not a drop of humanity in them?

He sat in the kitchen, his head with hair grown to his shoulders resting on his arms. From the bedroom came the girl's wild screams, crying, sobbing; she screamed that it hurt, that she was going to die, but they continued to rape her mercilessly. They put her on her knees, fucked her from behind, taking turns thrusting one dick after another into her burning, painful crotch, forced her to suck again, slapped her face, grabbed her wonderful wavy hair, spat on her tender, clean skin. At some point, the poor thing gave up and lay lifelessly on the bed, allowing them to use her tormented body. As if on purpose, the scumbags wouldn't finish, as if deliberately prolonging her torment. She only dreamed that they would finish quickly and leave. But suddenly Denis heard her shriek, and then Max's voice:

— Present your ass, I said!

Denis couldn't bear this anymore and quickly returned to the bedroom. The girl was already pinned by the knees, deprived of mobility, and Max was slapping her round little butt, periodically spreading her cheeks and spitting there.

— Hey, don't," Denis warned, but realizing he was dealing not with people but with beasts, he decided to act differently. He felt so sorry for the girl; he decided to at least save her ass from their brutality. Pretending he had decided to join, he undressed and took the girl from Max – after all, he was stronger than the others.

— Her ass is mine," he warned and sat the little one on himself, pretending he intended to fuck her. The others immediately swarmed the girl, shoving their dicks into her mouth and pussy, taking turns. She sat on Denis's hips, he covered her ass with himself, and seizing the moment, whispered in her ear:

— Don't be afraid, they won't get to it.

The guys had been fucking the girl for a long time, and now they felt the cum rising closer and closer. After tormenting her with hard thrusts one last time, they began to cum one by one, covering her breasts, stomach, and face with semen. In the frenzy of orgasm, no one remembered her ass, which Denis was covering. After finishing, they tormented the poor thing again – wiped their semen-covered dicks on her face, lips, forced her to lick their filth, someone shoved fingers into her wounded vagina, and then Max even urinated on her stomach.

When it was all over, Denis angrily reminded them:

— She didn't cum.

— Well, fuck her," someone said, and everyone went to the bathroom. There they washed their sticky dicks and dried themselves with pink, pretty little towels, crumpling and roughly throwing them on the floor. Everyone started getting ready to leave, and Max looked into the bedroom, where on the stained, bloodied sheets lay their tormented victim lifelessly. Denis sat next to her, still naked, and Max asked:

— Well, are we going?

— Go ahead, I'll stay here a bit," Denis said, not even looking at him.

— Suit yourself.

The footsteps faded, the front door slammed, and Denis realized everyone had left. The nightmare was over, and he carefully touched the girl's shoulder:

— Are you okay?

She sobbed, didn't turn her face, and he understood there was no point in talking to her. He lifted her in his arms, carefully carried her to the bathroom, and sat her inside. Gently, carefully washing the sticky traces of semen, urine, blood, and spit from her exhausted body with the shower, he silently stroked her head, trying to calm her. Finding clean towels in the cabinet, he dried the girl and just as carefully carried her back to the bedroom, tore off the dirty sheets on which she had endured all this horror, and laid her down. She allowed him to do all this with her without protest; shock still hadn't released her, and she looked terrible. Denis found his jeans, pulled out a shiny blister pack of pills from his pocket, squeezed out a couple, and handed them to her:

— Here, take these. You'll feel better.

— What is it?" she asked weakly, eyeing the medicine distrustfully.

— Painkillers," he explained. It really was painkillers – he gave them to prostitutes. Only now he suddenly realized that he was the only one among them who cared about his partners, felt sorry for them, thought about their pleasure. Disgust toward his friends stirred in him with renewed force, and he even thought that he no longer wanted to know them.

The girl took the pills, didn't even drink water, just chewed and swallowed them. She so wanted to get rid of the excruciating pain in her crotch!!! She so wanted to forget all this horror and shame that she would have even taken poison.

— What's your name?" Denis asked, draping the robe thrown on the floor over the naked girl.

— Olya," she said dully.

— Did it hurt a lot, Olya?

It was a stupid question – he had seen her suffering, her crying. Of course it hurt. Wrapped in her girlish pink robe with butterflies and flowers, she glanced at him and remained silent. Denis felt even more compassion for her, remembered she had been a virgin, an innocent girl, and these scumbags had done this to her... He knew how every girl waits for her first time, how much it means to her. And what would Olya remember later? Would she ever have men again? He felt so ashamed, and although he hadn't participated in this brutality, he was still guilty too. He wanted to help her, wanted to somehow ease her torment.

Without saying anything, he pulled her to him. Olya immediately tensed, expecting the nightmare to continue, but he whispered tenderly:

— Don't be afraid, Olenka, I'm not like them. I just want to caress you.

The girl had no strength to resist; she could only cry again, but when she felt Denis's lips tenderly kissing her neck, her tears dried up. What an enormous difference there was between his kisses and the touches of those scumbags. He was gentle, tender, careful, and besides, the painkiller was starting to work...

Olya was still lying in her robe; he simply untied it, that was enough. After kissing her breasts and stomach, he began healing her exhausted crotch with sweet kisses. His caresses had an effect, and finally Olya became wet, moaned languidly, and very soon he brought her to orgasm, skillfully tickling with his tongue the flesh untouched by the rapists – her clitoris. Kissing the still-flushed girl on the forehead, he as if put a period, ending this terrible evening for Olya with at least a drop of tenderness.

She continued to lie on her bed, shyly wrapped in her robe, and watched sideways as he dressed. When the door closed behind him, Olya, on half-bent legs, shuffled into the hallway to slide the bolt and saw a thick, folded wad of money on the console table. She counted it – forty thousand. It was all Denis had with him, and leaving, he left it for her, to somehow atone for the loss of her innocence.