The Pranksters of the Central Park - Feb Mar Contest

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SoftGameHunter
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The Pranksters of the Central Park - Feb Mar Contest

Post by SoftGameHunter »

Teaser: “Please!” But it didn’t come out as please. Her muffled voice confused the crap out of her until she felt fabric and tasted sweat. Her panties, now stuffed in her mouth. Her sweaty, ten-mile-run panties filled and surrounded her tongue and throat, threatening to make her gag by dry tickling and soaked crotch sweat. She burst out tears in her eyes.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
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Title: The Pranksters of the Central Park
Author: SoftGameHunter

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I have to admit, if the first two-hundred words of the story took place, I'm totally fine if then something like the next five hundred words of the story also takes place in real life.
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The Pranksters of the Central Park

Central Park – it wasn’t that central, Marcy thought. But it wasn’t the big one in New York City, so the town managers could put some preserved woodland on the edge of the city limits onto the map labeled Central Park and thus it would become that. This one was larger than the famous one anyway, not as ornate but way safer. She could walk or jog even in the isolated corners without a can of pepper spray and clutching her phone with the digits 9-1-… dialed in limbo. After a good ten mile run, she was warming down as the day warmed up. There were people, now and then. It was no big deal. She smiled. Life was good in the suburbs, whatever the naysayers said.

She could even ignore when footsteps approached her from behind. This was the good place. This was where fear and paranoia went to die. This was…

She yelped and shook as icy cold ran down the back of her neck and under her shirt. Spinning around, she faced the goofy ‘oops’ grin of some guy in his younger twenties. “Whoa, sorry, my bad,” he stammered as he stumbled back. Marcy absorbed it in an instant. This guy, spilling what smelled and looked like a strawberry milkshake, and his buddy, ten steps back with his phone out, recording. “But hey, you got in my way too,” the little shit continued. “How about an apology?”

YouTube pranksters! The guy was going to say something, but her roundhouse kick interrupted him. An assault! Two little shits trying for internet fame! Her self-defense kicked in hard, and kicked out even harder. With a cry, the shit stumbled back, dropping the rest of his shake on the ground. “Whoa, hey!” he cried. But Marcy had a reply at the ready, with a hard left and a knee to his groin. He stumbled but stayed upright. Her heart pounded, ninety percent from adrenaline, and very little from the exertion. She trained for this! Trained hard.

“Hey, stop! I’m sorry! It was just a prank! It’s just a prank! Leave me alone!” the shit screamed as he stumbled back. His friend approached too, but Marcy lunged at him, making him trip on his feet before he could get hit.

“You’re crazy lady!” shit friend shouted as he tumbled on his ass.

“Fuck you!” Marcy screamed, trying to knock shit’s legs out from under him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just a prank, lady!” he kept crying.

“You think that’s funny! You looking for hits? I’ll give you hits!” She turned and kicked the phone out of shit friend’s hand.

“This isn’t funny! Stop! Knock it off!” shit friend yelled. She lashed out with a back-kick to his temple. He fell to the ground. But shit was still standing, and she lunged. His goofball grin wasn’t going to save him, nor were his tears of atonement.

“You paying for my dry cleaning you little puke?” she snarled, lunging and landing a power kick to his chest. The shit finally fell over, bawling. Her clothes didn’t really need dry cleaning, but he didn’t have to know that. “You paying to clean my car seats?”

“I’m sorry! It’s just a prank! Oh god!”

“You will be sorry! I’ll show you sorry!” She grabbed his hair with her left and began a few nosebleed punches with her right. “How’s this for a title? Two virgin punks get their punk asses beaten up by a smaller girl because they didn’t learn manners! How’s that grab you!” She let go only because shit friend was getting up.

“Leave me alone!” he screamed, but she was faster, shoving him forward as he tried to flee.

“I’ll show you all the mercy you gave me!” She stomped on his chest before stepping back. Both men were lying on the ground emitting all kinds of baby-adjacent spurts and whines. But, oh, she couldn’t believe it. Shit was grabbing a big stick. They were in a wooded corner of the park, with lots of cover, but also lots of weapons. He got to his feet and swung it at her. An easy dodge.

“You swing like a girl!” she sneered, head-butting his face and ripping the improvised weapon from his grip. “This is the way you do it!” And down he went. She was about to deliver the coup-de-grace when someone grabbed her arms.

“Hey, whoa, I think you killed them enough.” A new voice. She wrested herself free, but only when the new guy relented. He was bigger than the other two but, more important, he looked like he could handle himself.

“You a friend?” she demanded, clenching.

“Of theirs or yours?” he asked, stepping back just a single pace. He looked around. “I think I’m getting the picture here.”

“It was just a prank, man! The bitch is crazy!” shit said. Moaning, the friend pulled himself upright again to retrieve his phone. Marcy stayed flexed and ready. Was this guy really a friendly or just a random lookie-loo?

“That’s no fucking prank you little turd!” she shouted. “Look at this! They dumped their milkshake all over me!”

“It’s a joke, bro. We were just joking and this bitch goes off on us!”

“Who’s laughing now?” she laughed. “Maybe I’ll just call the cops and you can try your joke with them! After they stop laughing at your sorry pansy-asses getting beat up by a girl!”

“See! See! She admitted it. She admitted beating us up over a prank! That’s felony assault! That’s twenty years in dyke jail right there!” Shit was on a roll. “You get that?”

“I got it,” shit friend said. He had the phone up and pointed again.

“I think she’s in the right you guys. You might want to delete that footage if you know what’s good for you.”

“Ooh! Friendly warning or angry threat.”

“I…” the guy started, but he stopped himself mid-thought. “Holy shit, you guys are Donny and the Pony!” A long pause, or it just seemed long. “I love you guys!”

“And in today’s context, we won’t be guarding our butts after hearing you say that,” shit said. Or rather, Donny.

“Well, aren’t you three special. Go get a room and keep out of my sight!” Marcy snapped. It was time to get away. The first two had the muscle mass of a string bean, but their bro-fan not so bad. He’d already snuck up and manhandled her once. But right away she faced the problem. Back away and look scared, or turn her back and be open. She stood where she stood, facing them all.

“Hey, come on, don’t be like that,” newcomer said. “You got your revenge. It was just a prank.”

“It was not just a prank!” she screamed. “You don’t prank strangers in a secluded trail! You don’t hurl things at people you don’t know! What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

“Okay, chill out, ‘Karen’,” Pony sneered, still filming. Karen? She was twenty-seven.

“Yeah, it’s not our fault your milkshakes brought all the boys to the park,” Donny said, pointedly lowering his gaze to stare at her ample chest filling out her sports bra, now speckled with splashed bits of strawberry shake, even if most of it went down her back and over her ass. New guy laughed, snorting at the word play and image. The joke was probably at the upper range of his humor comprehension.

“You’re disgusting trolls! All of you!” she spat, turning sideways to retreat, not quite backing away or turning away.

“Hey! I helped rescue you, you know!” new guy said. “No need to be like that. I happen to like these guys, that’s all.”

She should have walked away. She could have, but she couldn’t let such an idiocy go unanswered. “Rescue me! I was defending myself you fucking douchebag. You stopped me!”

“Hey! Douchebag? You were stomping some guy’s head in over a spilled drink! Fine, I helped rescue them, not that I think they needed it. You just sucker-punched them, I’ll bet. Didn’t you? Another minute and they’d have had your tight ass on the ground begging!”

“Oh, fuck you. I’m done. And I’m calling the cops, Donny and the Pony! Got an internet presence that any cop can look up? See you in court.”

He shouldn’t have been able to move so fast. Marcy’s nerves still sat on a hair-trigger, ready to explode. But even taking two steps to reach her, new guy took those two steps and then backhanded her, hard, right on her cheek. His thick arm carried through, knocking her head back and her body following. Only her feet lagged, and she fell backwards on her ass in the grass.

Her heart raced and skipped all at the same time. She could be on her feet in a second, but they could be on her in the same time. Especially new guy. “You’d better walk away while I still don’t know your name,” she growled. It was a gambit. Tough talk but giving him an out. Make him walk away. Do anything to make him give up the fight. If the duo didn’t post their video, if they destroyed it, the man was free and clear. Aside from being a decently big guy, he was Mr. Ordinary. Average face, hair, complexion, everything. He could walk away and get away with it.

“You shut up!” he yelled. “You just, shut up! I didn’t do nothing wrong, bitch! I’m just walking in the park. I don’t care if you don’t know my name! Who the fuck cares about your name! I don’t care nothing about your name you bitch! You’re calling me disgusting, and you’ve got the smoothie all over your ass!” His face reddened as he yelled, like he was breaking down in his head. Like he was simple.

“Hey, it’s cool, bro,” Donny said. “Appreciate the save.” He walked to her. Pony followed, and all three of them stood over her. Too close. If she scrambled, they’d stop her.

“Still filming that evidence?” she asked, putting all her strength into her strong voice. Not the weak, quivering one she heard in her own head. Three against her? She wasn’t fighting her way out now.

“You shut up about filming!” new guy shouted. “You just, knock it off you fucking bitch! They didn’t hurt you. You hurt them. You’ve got a cherry smoothie on you, but they’ve got blood! You’re the angry bitch! You are! Not me!”

“He’s not an angry bitch,” Pony said. “Well established.”

Now Marcy stared through her panicked tunnel vision up at the trio. They weren’t backing down. Her original assailants stood triumphant like trophy winners while fanboy had some kind of meltdown. Sweat poured from four bodies under the sun. Could she walk away? Crawl away even? She had her own phone, zipped away in her back pocket. She’d never pull it out in time. It wasn’t even pre-dialed to 9-1-. Stupid fake safe town! Her jaw quivered. She tried to stop it. She fought the visual fear that attracted the hunters to their prey. She was telegraphic it, her terror. They saw it. They smelled it!

Oh god, I’m gonna get raped!

What movement would kick start the assault? A twitch? A bird chirping in the branches. She couldn’t stop her jaw! Or the first of many tears, leaking out her left eye and running down her cheek. The world may not have been silent, but it sounded silent in that moment as everyone ran out of words and braced for what had to happen. What would happen. The inevitable.

Marcy broke first, throwing herself sideways to try to scramble up to her feet. But as he hands left the ground, a massive kickdown to the her spine spread her face-first in the ground cover. New guy! And with a cry of lusty rage, he was on her. “Where are you going! Where are you going!”

She screamed as the hand grabbed at her neck, pulling. Her sport bra and spandex top both tore, digging into her skin before ripping. She tried her moves, lashing out, kicking, scratching, even biting at hands that came nowhere near her mouth. But hands grabbed her hair and the waistband of her shorts, pull-dragging her forward, off the trail, into the woods, away from prying eyes. Her one witness was now her first assailant. It was a little-used part of the park. And now she was face-down in it, kissing the leaves as her shorts were yanked, giving her the atomic wedgie to end all wedgies. The soft clink of the opening knife terrorized her life before it cut her shorts instead of her throat. The tougher fabric tore away.

“Help!” she screamed, loud as she could. “Oh god!”

“Shut her up!” Pony snapped. A hand over her mouth. Now she could bite! Or try. But it held her jaw shut. It stopped quivering on her. Who was grabbing her where? She couldn’t guess, but all of them were doing it. Hands. On her ass. Her arms. Neck. Legs. Punching her. Choking. “Please!” But it didn’t come out as please. Her muffled voice confused the crap out of her until she felt fabric and tasted sweat. Her panties, now stuffed in her mouth. Her sweaty, ten-mile-run panties filled and surrounded her tongue and throat, threatening to make her gag by dry tickling and soaked crotch sweat. She burst out tears in her eyes.

“Shut up and quit squirming!” Who said it? She couldn’t tell. But flesh touched her flesh, her back side. Male flesh on female. That protruding hot tubular thing, poking at her ass crack. Were they going to rape her anally! But more hands pulled, lifting her hips, spreading her thighs. From behind, doggie style like a dog.

Nooo! Not that it came out as a no. It was a muffled moan auditioning to be a simple word. But words were nothing next to the hot flesh pole pressed to her pussy. She shrieked and scrambled, trying to make herself a bad target. A hard punch to the neck from behind turned her view of the leaved on the ground dizzy. And then in it slid. She couldn’t be wet! It had to be sweat! But in it went, the cock in her, fucking her. Raping her. Rape! That was the word. Lovers fucked. She was raped! Her cries could have been another woman’s for all they meant to her as she blurted them out under that first assault. A fat, filthy cock was in her, in and out, over and over. Her tears dribbled into the leaves as she cried there, held by three pairs of hands, one of them mauling at her breasts, hanging free under her, almost in the leaves themselves once freed from their D-cup holder.

In. Out. Hard. Punch. Laughter and laughter from above! And then there it was, that hot sticky mess inside her. Rapist cum, flooding her belly, with whatever sickness and filth it implied. In Marcy’s head, she always assumed she’d worry about disease and pregnancy if the worst happened to her. But the worst already happened. Rape seed was in her belly. That was already the worst! And there was more to cum!

She didn’t know the order. They kept her face down and forward in the forest floor. But three men and three rapes. Still, it seemed to matter as the second cock slid into her. Who was even raping her? She’d never know. Three rapes and three names, but each one anonymous, a random invasion she could never remove from her memory. Sure, they might be filming. But even Donny and the Pony wouldn’t post a gang rape online. Not on their channel. But, elsewhere? She had no time to think. She had no brain to think. The cock just pounded away at her, and this one was punching the shit out of her back and neck as she wailed and grunted under it. Pain and dizziness. If she puked into her panties, would she choke to death? She could hardly breathe anyway, for all the snot flowing from her nose. And there it was again, the second load. It was harder to tell, but there it was.

Round three. Over halfway. They didn’t seem the types to linger for more. A couple more minutes and it would end. She grunted like a stuck pig as the third cock slid in. At least it wasn’t anal. But the pain! She had to be blistered now. Blisted and bloodied for sure. Her cries surrounded her underwear. Tears. Snot. Dying dreams and innocence, all dribbled into the leaves below her. Marcy gave up the struggles. This one wasn’t punching her. Someone was really pinching and twisting her nipples, though. She screamed out. They were digging in, fingernail and all. Nipple blood joined her snot and tears in the leaves. Did he finish? A third load wouldn’t register, would it? But he was stopped. Had it been a minute? Two? Five?

Someone kicked her onto her side. She saw three blurred forms. But one of them pushed her onto her back. There was talking involved. None of it sounded like anything. In her head, it was the whaw whaw whaw of old Peanuts cartoons. Three fucking rapists gloating over her pain meant nothing. Fingers parting her vaginal lips meant less. But still she smarted as the cold remains of the milkshake poured into her widened vagina.

And then it was silence. Silence and heat all around her if not in her. She lay there, lightly quivering in the woods. She even heard footsteps a few times. But finally she lifted herself to her hands and knees to crawl back. She spit her panties out. They were ripped. Even if they weren’t soaked in spit, they were unwearable. But nothing was left. Not her phone. Not her car keys. They took her clothes and her stuff. She pulled herself up, using a tree branch to help. Staggering to the path, that was how a random park goer found her, shambling along stark naked and dirty with light red dairy product leaking from her crotch as she cried. Did they take her picture? Would she ever know if they did? Would she ever be cleansed of that day and that life? Unlikely.

Donny and the Pony were easy to find. YouTube and Tic Tok happily hosted their stuff. And a week later, a bonus short vid went up. “Sorry our camera cut out on us!” Donny chirped as footage of Marcy, unawares, showed up. Twenty-seconds later it was over as her eyes flared in rage. “But I promise you, her reaction was all bluster. Foul mouthed for sure, and not for family viewing. Lady of the park, we salute you for being such a good sport about it. Okay, what else have we got?”
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RapeU
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Re: The Pranksters of the Central Park - Feb Mar Contest

Post by RapeU »

With the fight at first, I would have liked to see her fight when the actual rape came. I get that she toned it down when the third guy showed up. 3 v 1 doesn't math well in most situations, but it would have been nice to see her try and fight until she had no energy left to instead of suddenly becoming passive.

Minor nitpick, I still gave it a 3 :)
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SoftGameHunter
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Re: The Pranksters of the Central Park - Feb Mar Contest

Post by SoftGameHunter »

I may have to tweak it before the open contest begins. I meant to convey that she tried hard to run once she realized the third guy was turning hostile, but he was way bigger than the other two and she was already at her limit. When they attacked her while she was already down, she never stood a chance. But I'll think over the delivery and see if I can make it clearer.
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MillieDynamite
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Re: The Pranksters of the Central Park - Feb Mar Contest

Post by MillieDynamite »

@SoftGameHunter, my opinion of you hasn't changed, as you've always been a fantastic writer. This is another story that proves it to me.
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