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Disclaimer: The Friends characters do not belong to me, but to Bright,
Kauffman and Crane Productions and Warner Bros. Their use is not intended
for profit, only for entertainment.

Author's Note: This is my third and probably last response to Omega Phallic's
Ross's Revenge Chapter 1. I have to admit that much as I hated the story,
this chapter (the only one that is something more than an exercise in sadism)
has been a major source of inspiration. More than my earlier attempts at
taking the storyline in a different direction, this one reflects my
fascination with the question that often arises in my mind when considering
Friends fics, especially 'bad' ones: what would have been the consequences in
Friends-world if things had gone this far, or almost? How would the Friends
characters, particularly Monica in this case, react to what had happened?
(she would hardly shrug it off as something trivial, as in O.P.'s Epilogue to
Ch. 1). Here I have chosen to follow up an idea that I mentioned in my
introduction to The One With Ross's Lesson, that her whole outlook on life
and especially her approach to sex might be radically affected.

Of course, it requires a massive suspension of disbelief to suppose that the
Ross of the show would have been capable of anything like this. This has to
be an AU in which his mental state is far different from anything presented
in the show. Equally, Monica's behaviour in submitting to him so easily does
not fit her portrayal in the show. I have tried to devise a plausible
explanation.

I would like to record my debt of gratitude to TNP, writer of very fine
c-s-s-a stories, for encouraging me to persevere with this and providing
valuable advice on which of several different approaches made the best
story, also for pointing out something crucial about Ross's use of a
camcorder that O.P. has evidently overlooked. However, in general I have
taken as my basis the assumption that events develop as O.P. describes
them, more or less; I am ignoring some details (for instance, three cocks
in one mouth is surely physically impossible - there would be no room for
the bodies attached to the cocks to stand next to each other), and picking
up on things O.P. has evidently overlooked (where do Ross's clothes go?).

Warning: This is going to be a lengthy saga. Because it aims to consider in
some detail what the effects of what Ross has done and Monica will do would
be on the Friends, their parents and others, there will be chapters that
contain no sex action to speak of (though they often contain references to
what has happened). I hope they will still be interesting, even dramatic.
I will try always to put up several chapters together, of which at least one
should contain a satisfactory amount of explicit sex.



Friends: Ross's Revenge - What Monica Did Part 1 - On The Balcony
(M+F,mast,inter,oral,anal)
by Exintaris ([email protected])

"What has happened to my life?" Monica found herself thinking, as she bent
her head to take the next cock into her mouth - black again, she noticed
casually - and spread her legs to allow the man behind her easier access to
whichever of her holes he fancied.

Everything had changed so bewilderingly fast. It could not be much more than
two hours ago that she had been the self-confident married woman who yelled
at her husband like she owned him, the well-regarded professional chef who
exerted control over others. Now here she was, stark naked on the balcony of
her own apartment, servicing a seemingly unending series of men like the
cheapest whore, while her every act was recorded by Ross on her own
camcorder. The only reminder of her former life was her wedding ring; but if
any of the men using her noticed it, it evidently did not bother them. Anyone
observing her situation would surely consider it to be the ultimate in
humiliation and degradation, as no doubt Ross intended it to be, damn him.

It was still impossible to understand how Ross could have changed so utterly
from what she had thought him to be, a supportive if competitive brother, to
the almost demonic figure who had forced her into this situation. True, she
had subjected him to some major prick teasing, but his response had been
unbelievably disproportionate. He had driven her from one degradation to the
next like a man possessed, almost as if he had planned it all in advance.
What reaction had he been expecting from her when he set her up for this
gangbang? Had he been hoping she would break down, cry and plead with him or
the men using her? If so, he must be rather disappointed. For there was no
point in denying it: although this was humiliating, and degrading, and scary,
because she could not see how it would end, and what would follow - despite
all that, on the physical level, she was enjoying it, very much.

She could not exactly pinpoint the moment when she had changed from
reluctant but resigned acceptance - because she could see no way out, and
knew that if she resisted she would be forced into it anyway and probably
suffer violence - to complete cooperation. But things had certainly begun
to change very early on, when she had still been new to it and had been
trying to blow not just one but two cocks in her mouth, at the same time
as jerking off one in each hand, while Ross was driving his monstrous cock
up her ass a second time, and a little person who had somehow got up there
was kneeling in front of her, thrusting a disproportionately large cock
into her cunt while burying his face between her breasts.

The sheer excitement of being involved with so many men at the same time,
and the resulting barrage of sexual sensations, had stimulated her to an
extraordinarily powerful and prolonged orgasm, like nothing she had ever
experienced with Chandler, let alone any of her earlier lovers. So enjoyable
had it been, in fact, that she had found herself wanting to get there again,
though she knew she should not. It had taken a while to recover from her
orgasm, but before too long she was reaching a high level of arousal again,
which bore fruit in another if less powerful orgasm. As she began to involve
herself more and more enthusiastically, more followed, each seeming to take
a shorter time to develop. None was as great as the first, but she found
herself deriving an amazing amount of pleasure from this multi-person sex,
that was totally new to her, of course, but seemed like something she had
been wanting all her life.

To add to the physical pleasure, she was also getting a great deal of mental
satisfaction from it all. It was a definite thrill to know that all these
men were focusing lustfully on her naked body; it gave her much-needed
reassurance about her attractiveness, and she could not deny that it pleased
her that what she had to offer might be rejected by Chandler, but was plenty
good enough for other men. Too, her increasingly uninhibited and positive
reactions to what they were doing were producing good responses from many of
them. They might tousle her hair, pat her, even say thanks or a word of
praise when they were done, all of which was very gratifying and answered
the urge to please people which was such a strong part of her makeup.
Paradoxically, in subjecting her so completely to his will, Ross had set her
free from the expectations of her normal life, free to be a sexual plaything
for a whole series of men if she wanted to - and right now, she felt that she
did want to.

A grunt was forced from her as the man behind rammed into her asshole with a
sizeable cock. It was strange to think that only a few hours ago she had been
an ass virgin, and would never have dreamed of allowing Chandler to do it.
Then Ross had forced her, which had hurt badly, but now she barely felt any
pain. Rather, she was almost as turned on by having a cock up her ass as up
her cunt, and had already lost track of how often she had taken men there.
She noticed thankfully that this one was wearing a condom, like most of them,
in fact. These men might have no compunction about using a complete stranger
in full view of others, but most seemed to have enough basic common sense to
avoid exposing themselves to the risk of catching a sexual disease, which was
a relief because it lessened her chances of contracting one.

Now her hands were taken hold of and placed on two new cocks. She stroked
along them eagerly, feeling a sudden joy in her freedom to behave with such
abandon. The man behind her reached forward to grasp her breasts, whose
enlargement with implants had been such an important factor in the trouble
between her and Chandler. He ran his hands all over them, squeezed and
fondled, tweaked her nipples expertly. She moaned with delight and thrust
her body back against him, to wiggle around on his cock.

"Oh baby!" he gasped.

"Yeah, ain't she somethin'?" the man she was blowing said almost
affectionately. "I never thought a white could be such a hot-assed li'l
bitch." He looked down. "What's your name, honey?"

Monica pulled her mouth back off his cock, though she kept up a slower
movement on the two in her hands. It seemed a long time since she had spoken,
and she needed a moment to focus on the act of speaking, but she wanted to
reply, because she was gratified by what the man had said. Looking up, she
saw that he was big, probably in his forties, with a rather battered-looking
face, presently grinning at her in a friendly sort of way. There was
something of the look of a younger Morgan Freeman about him.

"Monica," she produced with a sort of gasp.

He nodded. "I'm Larry. Well, Monica, you surely take the prize. I never known
a black ho, was so hot."

"Am I the best you ever had, then?" she asked, unable to restrain her
competitive instinct.

"You sure are," he said, his grin widening. "Now would you get back to work?"

Feeling a surge of pride, Monica readily leaned forward again, but winced and
gasped sharply as pain flared in her knees.

"Hey hey hey!" said Larry, pulling back again. "What's hurtin' you, Monica?"

"My knees," she confessed. She realised that, continually kneeling as she
was, she had put such pressure on them that they had been rubbed raw.

He looked concerned. "That won't do. Hold it, fellers." After a moment's
thought, while the other men using her drew away, he took off the leather
jacket he was wearing, folded it up and pushed it under her knees, with her
help.

"How's that?" he said.

She moved about a little to get the best position. It felt much better.
"Great," she said, smiling up at him. "Okay, let's go."

With renewed zest she took his cock into her mouth again, an act that
strengthened his flagging erection, then grabbed the two cocks on either
side of her and began vigorously jerking them off once more, and, feeling
a real need to have a cock inside her, spread her legs with a cheerful,
"Fill me up again, sweetie," to the man behind her. In gratitude for their
thoughtful treatment of her, she put all the effort she could into giving
these men a good time, producing vocal responses from them that were little
short of ecstatic. When the two in her hands exploded, the first spurts
even reaching her body, the rest landing on her hands and arms, she felt
an enjoyable tingling, so sensitised had her body become. But her strongest
feelings of pleasure were centred in her abdomen, and when the cock in her
ass and Larry's in her mouth drove in together for the final time and she
felt the seed spurt into her, her orgasm went off inside her like a bomb.
She pulled her mouth away from Larry's cock to give a full-throated yell
of glee, not caring at all that he was still ejaculating and so hit her
face.

"Oh thanks, boys!" she cried. "You're so great!" On a sudden impulse she
turned to Ross. "Better than you, you scumbag!" she shouted. "Better than
you!"

The combination of startlement and chagrin on his face was all that she
could have hoped for. Before her eyes he seemed to dwindle from the ogre-like
figure who had taken over her life to an ordinary, even rather pathetic
person. She turned back to Larry, who had zipped up and was standing back
from her, looking very satisfied, and on an impulse winked at him.

He smiled and said, "Man, you one of the finest bitches I ever did see. Great
boobs, great eyes," - he walked round behind her - "cute li'l ass, fine
skin ... and the best blow job I ever had." He turned to the men behind him.
"You guys are lucky, you know that? So treat her nice - she deserves it."
Then he stood back, evidently intending to watch.

This did not bother Monica at all. Feeling quite thrilled with his praise,
she set to work on the next group of men with even greater enthusiasm. She
was now determined to continue with this to the limits of her strength,
ignoring the increasing protests from various parts of her body. Nothing
seemed to matter but satisfying these men and reaching another orgasm. It
was as if she had been born to do this, and she found herself wishing she
could go on for ever.

But in fact the gangbang was not to last much longer. Trying to work it out
afterwards, she thought that it was probably when she was handling the second
group after Larry's that it all ended very abruptly. She had just swallowed
the come from yet another cock, and was climaxing powerfully from the deep
thrusts of the latest man to screw her cunt from behind, throwing her head
back and shouting "Yeahhhhh!!!" in utter joy, when she dimly noticed some
confused and angry yelling behind her, in which the word "wife" figured.

Opening the eyes she had shut in her ecstasy, she saw the men hurrying to
leave by the fire escape. Larry bent to retrieve his jacket, muttering "He's
your husband?" with a look of surprise, before leaving last of all. Turning,
she saw, staring at her in apparent shock, Chandler, Joey, and Treager, who
was carrying a very large wrench, while Chandler held a golf club and Joey
his baseball bat. They had a scared-looking Ross backed into a corner of the
balcony.

Her eyes met Ross's, and suddenly she realised what might be her most
fundamental reason for immersing herself so quickly in the gangbang. It
had allowed her to bury temporarily the shameful memory that she had not
resisted him as she could and should have done. She cringed mentally when she
remembered how easily she had allowed herself to be cowed by his threats.
Now that she thought back, she had to admit to herself that this was not just
out of shock, though that had certainly slowed her reactions and thought
processes crucially at the beginning. Nor was it out of her obsessive need to
preserve the order and tidiness in her apartment, which Ross had threatened.
No, she could not hide it: underneath it all had been a perverted desire to
do something really wicked, and in doing it get back at Chandler for his
rejection of her, and at her mother for always favouring Ross over her.

In fact, she had been so excited by the act of giving her own brother a
blowjob that she had actually come, which had shaken her further and put her
off guard, so that Ross had overpowered and bound her quite easily. But
though she had felt real shame and anger when he was truly raping her, a
feeling of excitement at the wickedness of it all had continued to affect
her. She could not prevent her body from responding physically to the amazing
feelings she got when he fucked her, so powerfully that all the sexual
activity she had been involved in since had not obliterated the memory
entirely. But she had responded in her mind too; really, from then on she had
been in a sort of daze, making little more than token efforts to resist.

Ross's gaze showed utter contempt, or so it looked, and she turned away. She
had little doubt, knowing him so well, that he had already decided that it
was all her fault and would try to blame her for everything, and she realised
that she would have to prepare some defence. She certainly had a lot of
explaining to do, which would involve making some humiliating admissions, and
already she was wondering if she could ever really make anyone, let alone
Chandler, understand the frame of mind that she had developed.

Here came Chandler now, striding over with his face filled with anger and
disgust. "Monica," he said, in a very strained voice, "what the hell have you
and Ross been doing?"

She looked up at him, still trying to adjust to this very sudden turn of
events and organise her muscles into getting her up on her feet. She was also
trying, but unsuccessfully, she suspected, to conceal her feeling of very
deep satisfaction at having been so thoroughly fucked that her whole body
seemed to hum with pleasure. She realised she must look a sight, her face and
body covered in come. Anyone could be forgiven for assuming that she had been
a totally willing participant in a prolonged orgy.

For a moment she felt guilty, and thought of casting herself on Chandler's
mercy and begging for forgiveness. But she pushed that thought away. It might
be unfair, but she could not help feeling that Chandler bore the ultimate
responsibility for all this. If he had not walked out on her, none of it need
have happened. She was rather mad at him, though much madder at herself and
most of all, of course, at Ross.

"Ross ..." she choked out, staggering to her feet, then "Ross" again, in a
shuddering voice, as tears started to her eyes. But even before she accused
Ross something else was demanding to be said, and as Chandler looked at her
with an expression of growing alarm she could not keep it back.

"Where the hell were you when I needed you?" she yelled and then, overcome
by shame, grief and regret, she broke down in tears and hid her face in her
hands.

* * *

It was the tears that did it. Chandler knew only too well that Monica was
capable of playing a part, but her tears and the impassioned outcry that had
preceded them seemed completely genuine. He was still not clear what had
gone on here, but he would not be surprised to learn that somehow Ross was
responsible and Monica was some kind of victim.

He reached out a hand to her rather tentatively. "I'm ... I'm sorry, Monica,"
he stammered.

She took her hands from her face and looked at him, serious faced. "Not your
fault," she muttered, then, more strongly, "no one could have predicted what
my prick of a brother would do."

She spoke loudly enough that Joey heard. "What did he do?" he said, his face
showing sudden rage. Turning on Ross and grabbing a bunch of his shirt, he
shook him and yelled, "What have you done, you cocksucker? Why are you half
naked? Why were you filming her? Answer me!" He slapped Ross across the face.

Ross cried out. Suddenly rage flared in Chandler too, as Joey's words raised
questions that he was beginning to consider. He stepped over, intending to
join in interrogating Ross, but Treager stopped him with a meaningful cough.

"You want the police?" he said gruffly.

"The police ..." Chandler repeated, taken aback.

"No, not the police," said Monica in a pleading voice. "It would kill my
parents. Can't we ... deal with this among ourselves?"

Chandler realised that, indeed, that would be best. "You're sure?" he said,
looking at her closely.

She nodded. "I'm the injured party here, and I say no."

Ross gave a scornful laugh. "Oh, so you're gonna play the innocent victim,
huh?"

Joey slapped him hard over the head. "Shut up," he snarled, "or I'll bust you
a really good one. You don't get to have any say in this. Whatever happened,
it looks like you've done things no brother should do to his sister and the
wife of his best friend."

And there it was, Chandler thought. Sometimes Joey, with his simplistic but
very clear view on morals, could get to the meat of a thing very quickly.
Whatever part Monica had played, the evidence strongly indicated that Ross
had done terrible things. He sighed deeply. How could they ever recover from
this?

"No police," he confirmed to Treager. "And obviously this shouldn't be
spoken of. If you could come up with some story, if the other tenants
ask ..." Realising what would be needed, he felt for his wallet, eyes
on Treager's face.

Treager's expression turned calculating. "How much is it worth to you?"

Chandler had no idea. It was Monica who spoke. "Five hundred?" she said
enquiringly.

Treager cocked his head in thought, then nodded. "I can't stop people
talking," he said. "But for five hundred I won't tell what I've seen. For,
um, let's say eight hundred I could even spread some kind of cover story,
but you'll have to agree on that, so I know what to say."

"I'll get it to you tomorrow," Chandler promised.

Treager nodded and seemed about to leave, but hesitated. Then he said
gruffly, as before, "Sorry about your trouble. I hope you can work it out.
You always treated me right, you and Monica - and Joey." He grinned briefly
at Joey, clearly remembering their dancing practice together. Then, darting
a very hostile glance at Ross, he turned and got back into the apartment
through the window.

"I'm going to clean up," said Monica abruptly. "Please don't touch anything,
Chandler. It's all evidence. And you'd better get Rachel and Phoebe here."

"Rachel's already - " Chandler began, but Monica was gone. He followed her,
jerking his head at Joey, stil standing guard over Ross. "Let's get him
inside."

Joey gave Ross a shove. With seeming reluctance, Ross clambered over the
window sill, still clutching the camcorder. They could hear Rachel in full
flow, sounding very distressed.

"... have you been doing, Monica? What's happened, for God's sake?"

"Rachel," said Monica in a tired voice. "I don't wanna talk about it yet.
Just let me get through to the bathroom to clean up."

Rachel, mouth open as if about to speak again, turned towards Chandler as he
came in. Her eyes widened as she saw Ross and Joey behind him.

"Ross?" she breathed.

"Ross," Chandler repeated, not bothering to hide his contempt. Something
occurred to him. "Monica, shouldn't he put on his shorts, at least? Wherever
he sits might get messy otherwise."

Rachel gasped, while Monica turned, looking thoughtful. "I don't care," she
said eventually. "Let him sit in his shirt, the bastard."

She walked off to the bathroom, not showing any sign of having heard when
Ross yelled, "Oh yeah, you're putting on a great act, you slut!"

Joey slapped him again. "Didn't I tell you to shut up? Maybe this'll convince
you." He made a fist and drove it, knuckles first, into the back of Ross's
head. Ross cried out, and Rachel gave a little shriek.

"Oh God, what has Ross done?" she moaned. "Please don't tell me it's ... the
worst thing I could think of."

"That's what we still need to find out," said Chandler, feeling depression
descend on him at the thought of the sordid story that would have to be
uncovered, the likelihood that one or both of them would lie, and the
consequences. God, how would Carol and Susan react, let alone the Geller
parents?

"Rach," he said softly. "Could you go help Monica? I think she'll need it."

Looking very strained, Rachel nodded. "Okay, Chandler."

(To be continued)

    

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