Masked Robbers. A Group Adventure

An Innocent Girl in the Clutches of a Gang Leader

I was thrown onto the bed. Pulling down his tight, form-fitting boxers that hugged his pumped-up ass on the move, one of the robbers in a black mask climbed on top of me. He forced my legs apart despite my resistance and threw them over his shoulders.

He pressed his big, powerful cock against my still tightly resisting pussy and pushed with such force that I lasted only a second, gritting my teeth.

And a second later, I gave in, opening up to meet his wild, illicit power.

My back arched instinctively, and my lips parted in an exhausting moan.

I couldn't even see his face,

but I couldn't help but feel with my whole body that this was a real man taking what he wanted. Even if "it" resists…

Although this story began in the morning, it's better to tell it in order.

— Buddy, get your hands off!

I grabbed his forearms and forcefully pushed the jerk away. I must say, his shoulders were truly noteworthy. Muscular, defined, covered in intimidating tattoos. Secretly, I've always been drawn to guys like that, but you can't just walk up to them on the street and touch their muscles, can you? You have to provoke a little fight…

— Oh, a new little girl in our neighborhood?!

To my surprise, the tall, slender, tattooed hooligan with lips as plump as a movie star's didn't back away. In my old neighborhood, this worked instantly, but this bastard seemed to think he was a crazy handsome guy (which, by the way, he was, judging by his broad shoulders and clearly defined chest muscles).

— What's it to you! Don't you dare get handsy! — I struggled between the desire for him to press me even harder and the fight for my maiden honor. After all, a fight with such a hulk is a legal way to touch a real man.

— Or what? — Using his advantage in strength and height, he wrapped his arms around my waist and forcefully pressed me against him.

I felt his big, firm bulge, but I tried not to show it. It was warm and heavy, and I liked feeling that this brazen guy had something I didn't and never would.

— And why are you blushing, modest girl? I, for example, really like it when they resist. Struggle out of my embrace some more, okay? — He flashed a dazzlingly white, mocking smile.

I tried to push away with my palms, but his abs turned out to be simply steel. Yes. After all, moving into a student dorm on the outskirts instead of renting an apartment in the center was a terrible idea, but… Mom didn't have enough money, and it looks like I'll have to live in conditions like these. Bullying from day one is a bad omen. And there's no one to protect me. And from bitter past experience, I knew that how you present yourself on the first day is how it will be for the rest of your life.

— I'll kick you in the balls right now, you asshole! — Probably, my natural intolerance for injustice was the only reason why I remained a virgin at twenty. Especially since all my girlfriends had been fucking left and right for a long time.

I was warned that the guys in the neighborhood around the dorm love to "initiate" new girls, and a special thrill for them was "popping a cherry" right on the day she moved into the dorm. For them, it's like a "registration" ritual. And a way to break the will of any innocent girl from a low-income family. Who wants to fight for their personal space when on the very first day you're deprived of the most precious thing and several scumbags have "been inside you"?

But I was determined to preserve the only thing my mother could pass down to me before leaving for the big city.

Yes, transferring at 20 from our village diploma mill to a university was damn hard, but a few months of sleepless nights and the bribe my mom gave to her acquaintance, a professor, did the trick. It's shameful to think, but I don't rule out that she also provided him with some services. In our village, you can't get anywhere without that.

Huge Muscular Dangerous

A huge guy could have been my crush. I've always had a thing for tall, muscular guys with wild charisma and a strong-willed character.

But what he allowed himself to do to my body, where his fingers already were… that made me hate him. Against my will, he slipped his hand under my skirt and brazenly touched me between my legs with his big, hot fingers. I clenched and tensed to the limit.

— A plump little mouse… Alright, I think that's enough from you. Judging by your red cheeks, you're a virgin, right?

The guy recoiled, leaving me with a wet crotch and nipples poking through the thin fabric of my t-shirt, gasping for air as I slid down the wall with my back.

— I hope you didn't cum?

— Fuck you! — I snapped, barely catching my lost breath.

— Come on! You know it's just a joke.

— Touching unfamiliar girls under their skirts? Are those the jokes you have here?

I tried not to look at him, although it was really hard to do: his slender silhouette just begged to be traced with my eyes from top to bottom again and again. A really cool guy. And his bulge poking through the fabric of his loose shorts both tempted and frightened me. Big, heavy, and uncontrollable. In my head, hot pink clouds of thoughts involuntarily arose about how long I could resist if he shoved my little hand into his pants and made me touch him.

— Alright, little bird, see you! If anything — my name's Craig!

Craig. A cool name for a street bully. He turned around, and I, a poor student, didn't know where to look: either at his gorgeous, powerful ass framed by muscular, wide hips, or at his pumped-up back bulging with a thousand small muscles. And on top of that, he had a tattoo of a black eagle on his shoulders.

I was still in my wet fantasies when my friend tried to pull me out of them with her squeaky voice:

— Have you gone completely crazy?! Why were you hitting on Craig from the 'Black Eagle' gang? — came the simultaneously capricious yet excited voice of Melissa. My dorm roommate.

— I don't know any Craig! — I snapped, adjusting my skirt.

— Yeah, right, — she licked her lips with a brazen smirk, diving into her phone, — you totally don't know the gangster Craig who terrifies the local police!

With these words, she showed a video on her phone taken from afar, in which Craig kisses my neck and puts his hand under my skirt.

— And that's definitely not his hand groping between your sweaty thighs, girl! — Melissa laughed.

I frowned:

— Idiot, delete it!

— Already sent it to the group chat. If they pass you around tonight — I won't be surprised. You're such a slut! — Mellie shouted with pride for her friend who managed to snag a prime hunk.

— Get lost, — I smiled and pushed my friend on the shoulder. I liked that everything that happened smoothly transitioned from the category of cynical bullying of the new girl to some kind of joke or even flirting.

We walked around the campus, staring at the graffiti-covered teachers' building.

— See what they did?

— Who?

— Your new boyfriend and his friends!

— My new boyfriend? What are you talking about?

— This is the work of the 'Black Eagle' gang. And Craig, the guy who was testing the strength of your virgin hymen in the alley this morning — is one of them.

— Melissa, you're such a fool! Stop calling him my boyfriend!

— These guys run the neighborhood. And this graffiti is just proof of that. This is how they wanted to show that teachers are beneath them and they're in charge here.

In the Embrace of a Gang of Thugs

Only now, looking closer, did I make out the wide black wings and the predatory snarl of a beak spread across the building where the teachers lived. Exactly like the tattoo on the huge, pumped-up back of my assailant.

I rubbed the spot on my neck where he left his kiss. For some reason, just the memory of how his rough stubble pricked me there made something stir below my navel.

— Last week, they killed a new girl. So you better be more careful when you flirt with them.

— Killed?

— Well, like they fucked her all night… and she couldn't take it…

— What's going on here?!

— Yeah, better keep quiet about it, or you'll be next. There they are.

Melissa nodded towards a gang of guys hanging out in the old skate park. Gang graffiti seemed to envelop the five guys, shirtless. In black headbands and wide pants or shorts.

— God, they're all just perfect hunks.

— All they know is working out. Yeah, thirty-pack abs between them all. You know!

— They're so strong and muscular. Could they really…

— Murderers? Sadly. They're spoiled street guys. They never studied at our university; they rather parasitize off it.

— Teachers avert their eyes when someone in class asks about that incident where a grad student teaching us law was passed around right in the back yard.

— How horrible!

— They made her their bitch, threatened her with a gun. At night, they put on masks and act in the city like a pack of wild monkeys off the chain.

The day was long, and the workload they gave at the university for all subjects. Lectures from the very first day. The need to register with the student union and stand in line for textbooks. I was already a fairly grown-up girl. But even at twenty, it's hard to maintain concentration all day.

Coming home, I just passed out, sprawled face down. At home, this worked much better on the big bed left after my parents' divorce.

But here — on a modest student cot — my limbs dangled, not fitting. But I passed out without thinking that everything would go numb in just half an hour of such "shutdown."

I woke up because someone was brazenly rummaging through my not-fully-unpacked things:

— Search, search, the catch is always fatter at the beginning of the year.

— The savings that parents scraped together — that's exactly what young cowboys like us need.

My heart tightened. Several rough male voices immediately filled the room. They walked around shamelessly, as if they owned the place.

Half-asleep, I didn't understand and even for a second mistook them for the dorm supervisor with security guards, but rubbing my eyes, I saw masks on their faces, and then everything became clear.

A gang of robbers had come to profit from everything the students' parents had scraped together for their move to the big city.

— Oh, a decent iPhone. Not even cracked.

— Mellie! — I shouted to see if any of the girls were here. The moon shone lonely through the window, and I think I was left alone with five men who had simply overturned my friend's suitcase and were shaking out all its already rather meager belongings.

— Oh, we've caught a little bird here!

— And why aren't you at the initiation?

In the dark, I saw the leader flash his eyes, pointing somewhere out the window where music was playing and lights were burning.

His eyes with long black lashes were like those of the main hunk in a gangster saga like "Peaky Blinders" or "Brigada." I pulled my legs in.

— Or did you stay so we could… "initiate" you?

The guys surrounded me from all sides. The whites of their eyes glowed brightly in the dark, and they traced my silhouette in the darkness. They looked at my bare legs. Waist. Hips. Sleepy breasts with nipples poking through a thin tank top.

My lips trembled, and I heard my cowardly voice, which I was ashamed of.

— Please don't…

— Come on, spread her legs! — the leader shouted as if I weren't even here, — If you want, you can be the first in this slit. He turned to the door and silently pointed for one of them to stand guard. That one nodded and locked the door.

The bruiser was giving orders to the others in masks. They all looked alike, but because he was so large, powerful, and authoritative, I understood that he was the leader of this gang. He was the main one among them and the main one in life. You wanted to submit to such a man even though he was a hardened scoundrel ready to rape me.

— Now this bitch is going to get what she wants!

— She'll get it full force, boss! My dick is just smoking.

He wasn't exaggerating. That thing was unrealistically big, and I couldn't take my eyes off his dry abs and the flat, veined surface just below the scoundrel's navel. His log stubbornly stuck straight up as they forcefully spread my legs.

— Buddy, I think you've earned some good pussy.

Each of their crude remarks hit me right in the brain. I'm from a decent family, but these lustful shouts seemed to make me even wetter.

They discussed me like a thing. They discussed me like a piece of meat. They discussed me like a bitch they were going to pass around. I didn't even know if I'd live to see the morning.

One of them, lifting his mask, tried to kiss me. I sharply turned away.

— Oooo! I love it when they resist…

He grabbed my chin with hot fingers and planted a fiery kiss on my lips. I tried to push his tongue out of my mouth, but it only got worse. The robber pressed me against the wall and kissed me through the black fabric hiding his face…

And if on the surface I continued to resist, scream through the robber's passionate kiss muffling my mouth, and even try to bite him, then somewhere deep down I wanted to experience these feelings.

I knew this only happens once in a lifetime. Knew it doesn't happen to every girl. I knew that one in five dreams of several robbers with bare torsos and rough voices passing her around like the last whore.

I was just minutes away from being degraded, put on all fours, and fucked in every hole by several really bad guys.

They spread my legs with strong hands. My knees moved farther apart, my muscles began to tremble under tension, but resisting several big, strong men was a naive venture.

Somewhere deep inside, I knew that resistance turned on not only these fucked-up bastards with big, hard dicks but also somewhere deep inside me, no matter how good and decent a girl I considered myself, I was already dreaming of having my legs spread. Wanted them to see my little lacy white panties and…

It's shameful to admit but…

And how wet the hole was for them.__P_