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Phoebe's Black Day	By : JayDee Category: 1 through F > Friends Views: 24747 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Friends or any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Phoebe�s Black Day
- 1
Phoebe’s Black Day

By JD joandoe@gmail.com

Description: Phoebe is brought down to her knees, raped and impregnated by a rapper and his entourage.
Content Codes: 3Plus, Anal, Angst, COMPLETE, Contro, DP, Humil, M/F, OC, Oneshot, Oral, PWP, Preg, Racist, Rape, Violence, WS
Warning: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. Real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. Please read the story codes and stop reading if you can’t stomach that shit. Seriously, you’ll just hate it if you keep reading. Go read something nice about kittens.
Disclaimer and author’s note: I do not own Friends or any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. The original version was written by me in 2008, and I hope is now an improvement on my original. T-Ankh was going to be one of my recurring OCs until I did a google and found there’s now a real rapper with the same name so I came up with T-Ankh.

In late 2005 a gif of Phoebe performing her signature ‘Smelly Cat’ in Central Perk went viral on the then “World Wide Web”. Some said it wouldn’t have done so well as a clip with sound, but they were brushed aside by the way the media made her suddenly famous across America. A record company executive took a break from his pile of coke and had the idea to team her with top rapper T-Ankh for a homeless charity single, based on her revealed past and his homeless charity. Phoebe was a little nervous at first, being as she seemingly lived in a part of New York City with very few black people and had previously been part of a campaign against the homophobic and misogynistic lyrics of certain rap stars. The record company exec assured her this didn’t apply to T-Ankh; he loved and respected women and he didn’t have a problem with gay men. The exec didn’t mention this was because he followed the old “more pussy for me” argument. Phoebe was assured that T-Ankh cared as much about charity as herself, he had actually set up a charity to help homeless children.

T-Ankh, for his part, had always made it known he was happy to work with just about anybody if there was likely to be money in it. Having moved to America as a child from one of Egypt’s ‘sub-Saharan’ immigrant neighbourhoods, with his family he did what he could to avoid a return to poverty. Plus, working with Phoebe had to be fate, as later found out he’d had the sister of one of Phoebe’s friends come to him for an audition that same day. She’d wanted to make some whimsical attempt to get hired by T-Ankh’s record label, though he didn’t even do any hiring there. He took a call from his own manager on speakerphone while breaking in pretty doctor’s daughter Amy Green over his desk.
“What’s up?” he asked, before being interrupted by a high-pitched cry,
“Oh god! It’s tearing my ass apart!”
“Shut up, slut.”
“Uh, Jeez, T-Ankh you want me to call back?”
Amy’s passionate moans continued to be broadcast over the speakerphone. An hour previously she’d never even seen a black cock, and since she’d had it down her throat, smacking her cervix and now reaming her tight butt so hard that each thrust lifted her feet from the floor to kick against air. She gripped the far side of the desk with one hand, and fingered her oozing snatch with the other
“Nah, s’cool. What you want?”
“Okay… Um, Goddamn…”
“Spit it out, fool.”
“I’ve set up a charity single with you and this Phoebe Buffay-Hannigan. The blonde they covered on the news? It’ll be a joint single, video, the works. Got a big budget from the company on this one, they think that the “admin costs” will make it back ten times over, with the rest to your homelessness charity. You want in, right?”
Amy screamed suddenly, a wild cry of pleasure mixed with pain as her cunt clamped on her fingers and she came again. The sudden spasms went all the way to her butt and set T-Ankh off. He sprayed the small-titted beauty’s innards with his sperm, before yanking it free and jerking the last drops over her perfect little buttocks. She was still moaning as she slid backwards off the desk and landed on her gaping ass. T-Ankh slapped her face with his dick and told her to get cleaning. Amy’s eyelids fluttered for a few moments, and then she began lovingly working on his sticky cock.
“Sure I’m in, man. You got it all set up and I never pull out at the last moment. She’s a hot looking bitch, and all the girls want a piece of me, ain’t that right slut?”
“Jesus, T-Ankh!” his manager was aghast.
“Not you!”
Amy nodded while slurping cum from T-Ankh’s cock, eyes wide with passion. Once he was done he kicked her out without a shower and got back to business.
Events moved quickly, and soon T-Ankh found himself introduced to Phoebe on location. He wanted her almost immediately. The way she looked, the way she talked, the way she smiled. Especially the way she laughed. Phoebe found T-Ankh amiable, although she was a little annoyed by the size of the entourage he brought to the multi-day shoot. She assumed the large group of similar men would delay things, but while she noticed them lecherously eyeing up the backing dancers, she quite failed to notice T-Ankh’s interest in her was anything but innocent.
T-Ankh just assumed she was playing hard to get. The video shoot was professionally done, with the mere sight of the rotund female director often enough to drive thoughts of lust from the minds of T-Ankh and his posse. Phoebe simply did as she was directed, playing guitar on camera. She wished her husband had been able to come along, but work was work. She was bright enough to know her fame wouldn’t last, but if it helped a bunch of people off the streets then she was cool with it. T-Ankh found himself with painful boners crushed down by his pants, and bulging through on some shots. He became convinced Phoebe wanted him as much as he wanted her, and towards the end of the shoot he decided to set it up.
“Hey, Phoebe. I think we’ve done a real good job here. You were hot shit, know what I‘m saying?”
Phoebe giggled, “I sure am. Well, Thank you, Mr T-Ankh. It was fun working with you. Last bitch I worked with stole my song.”
“You want to come back to my trailer?” T-Ankh referred to his on set accommodation.
“I… Why?”
“C’mon babe, don’t you want a piece of this?”
T-Ankh rubbed the outline of his cock through his pants. Phoebe gasped, and then slapped him hard. He knew she was married. It was totally inappropriate. The rapper rubbed his face in shock as the enraged woman stormed away, and then spat on the floor. T-Ankh wasn’t about to be disrespected like that by any man, woman or child alive, and as some of his entourage who’d witnessed the encounter snickered he turned on them for a furious rant.
“You think that shit is funny, motherfucker? We goin’ to get that bitch and teach her respect, goin’ to teach her place. I’m going to fuck that bitch up the butt so hard she can’t sit down until Christmas!”
“You’re right T-Ankh, bitch be whack. We’ll help you learn her good!”
T-Ankh pointed to the white guy who’d spoken, “You! Get the fuck out of here, wigger!” then he turned to the rest.
“Okay, this is how it’s going down…”

“Miss Buffay-Hannigan?” Phoebe was about to leave the set when a black man approached her. She had put her anger of several hours before behind her, but still felt a tinge of anger as the man addressed her.
“What do you want?” she asked, “An autograph? I do sign autographs.”
“My name is Richard Duvall, I am the senior manager of T-Ankh’s charitable organisation for homeless children in the five boroughs. T-Ankh feels very badly about how things ended up and his appalling behaviour. He is distraught, distraught I say, because he wanted an opportunity to discuss a joint charitable event with you, for the homeless children. He would also like to apologise in person.”
Phoebe looked towards the door. The unseasonable New York sun streamed through the window into the lightly tanned interior, almost making her white dress shine. She badly wanted to just walk away, but she was at heart a good and kind if kooky woman, and decided not to let her personal dislike stand in the way of helping those who needed it most. She followed ‘Richard’ back into the building and realised she was being led to the room used as the director’s office during the shoot.
The director had been finishing up paperwork when Herbert, the old black security guard, had brought in several members of T-Ankh’s entourage. Her confusion turned to fear as they stuffed a rag in her mouth, and moments later the fat woman was tightly bound and stuffed into a side cupboard. By the time Phoebe was led into the room by the well dressed black, T-Ankh was stood in front of the desk with only four members of his entourage in the room.
Once they’d seen her enter, the remaining members outside the office dragged ice boxes of beer, bags of snacks, a ghetto blaster and a big mattress outside the door, ready to be brought in at a moment’s notice. Phoebe was completely unaware of them, or of the director’s useless struggles bare feet from her. Thin chipboard separated the fat woman from her sight, and so she had no warning of the violent, brutal assaults planned on her hot body.
“Well, I’d like to apologise for suggesting what I did.”
Years on the streets had trained Phoebe’s bullshit detectors, and there was something in the way he spoke that suggested he wasn’t entirely sorry. She decided she had to play along, and leave quickly.
“I accept your apology, T-Ankh. Uh-huh, Sure, I got around a lot before marriage – you would if you looked this good! – but I love Mike and wouldn’t cheat on him at all.”
Phoebe looked nervous. T-Ankh fought off a smile as he brought up the next topic,
“So we’re cool. Get down to business then. There’s a big problem right here in New York with two things they don’t talk about, children living in poverty, homeless and alone, and terrible crimes like rape. You know about these things?”
“Oh yes,” Phoebe nodded compassionately, “So you have a project to help the children? You want my help with it? I was young on the streets myself. I’ll do what I can.”
“Not the children. We need your help with the rape,” said Richard, “Can’t do it without you.”
“I don’t quite follow,” Phoebe’s brow knitted with confusion.
“What my man here means, Phoebe, is that you are absolutely essential. It was wrong of me to try getting you to come back to my trailer earlier. Very selfish. I decided I had to share a lot more.”
“Sharing, yes, sharing is good,” Phoebe was not happy with the way the conversation was going. She was surrounded by muscular black men, and did not like their expressions one bit. They reminded her of the way Joey looked at every woman ever.
“I think we should discuss this project another time. I have much to do. Call my manager Regina Phalange. I’ll leave now. Bye.”
T-Ankh spread his hands calmly and stepped towards her. Phoebe took half a step back and felt the hard body of a man behind her. His thick cock pressed against her ass and she gasped. When the white woman started to turn T-Ankh rabbit punched her in the gut, just below her ribs. He was a big, powerful man, he worked out. Phoebe folded up instantly, and all she could hear then was zips being pulled down. The strong smells of sweaty cocks filled her nose as T-Ankh pulled her forwards by her hair.
“Please,” she managed to gasp, “let me go! Oooh! I’m a vegetarian, you can’t put meat in my mouth!”
“I don’t guess I’ll be hearing your laugh much more today, huh? Shame. Have to listen to the gang here.”
Phoebe’s terrified pleading amused the men, and they were soon joined in their laughing by another fifteen bringing in the beer, snacks and mattress. Phoebe’s further pleading was cut off by T-Ankh spreading her lips with his purple helmet. The taste on her tongue brought it home to Phoebe that she was being orally raped, treated like a street whore gutter slut by a powerful black man, and that his friends were not just there to watch. She had a knife in her boot, but it wasn’t worth shit against their numbers. She had always managed to avoid assaults living on the street, but one of her oldest nightmares had come to pass.
Rough hands groped Phoebe's ass and still-perky breasts through her dress as T-Ankh stretched her throat with what he referred to as his ‘big black bitchtamer’. His girth was such that her jaw began cramping painfully while her lips were tightly stretched around the hot throbbing cock. Phoebe began choking almost immediately, and T-Ankh felt her sharp teeth against his sensitive shaft,
"Don't you fucking dare bite down, bitch or I'll get my 9mm out and shoot you in the fucking head!"
He didn't have a gun in hand, but he didn't need one. Phoebe's old fears and complaints about misogynistic rappers reinforced the threat for him. The white woman’s powerful gagging squeezed T-Ankh wonderfully as he strained his muscular buttocks and forced the last few inches between Phoebe's lips. T-Ankh's wrinkled nutsack slapped into Phoebe's chin audibly, and a few of the onlooking entourage cheered. The cute blonde’s beautiful face being speared by a thrusting black tool was the hottest thing many of them had ever seen.
The man who called himself Richard Duvall was already too excited by his part in luring Phoebe to her erotic facial rape. He stood beside T-Ankh and stroked his cock fast. Phoebe’s eyes focused on the wet slit of cock, and then suddenly a thick wad of jizz splashed her cheek. She ground her eyes shut as Richard blasted her face with his load, and added his thick potent sperm to the drool flowing freely from the corners of her mouth. A very little made it into her eye and stung terribly. Phoebe cried fresh tears as T-Ankh increased the speed of his hard throat fuck.
Phoebe could feel the hands tugging at her boots, and she lost two inches of bent-over height as they were pulled off and thrown away. Nobody liked the idea of the heavy footwear kicking out at them. There was a round of surprised laughter when they found her blade and tossed it aside. More hands were inside her dress, dragging it from her petite frame and lustfully groping her lightly tanned skin as they did so. She was stripped to silky panties and bra by the time T-Ankh felt his balls ready to shoot.
“You ready, you stuck up slut? You gonna drink it all, bitch!”
Phoebe slapped her hands against T-Ankh’s legs with all her feminine might. If only she had some of Monica’s strength. He barely noticed. The rapper wrapped her hair around his hands and gave her the entire throbbing length again. As Phoebe gagged on cock he spermed her throat, shooting long streams of his come straight down into her belly. A high protein rapeshake. Phoebe couldn’t breathe with her throat plugged. She felt pubes tickling her nose as her lungs burned. T-Ankh loved the way her eyes bugged out. He considered it to be the surprised expression of a disrespectful whore learning her place.
Phoebe clutched at her throat and coughed when he pulled out. Strands of saliva and come hung from her mouth, while she squeezed her bloodshot eyes closed. T-Ankh and his buddies watched the blonde beauty getting her breath back until she was ready to risk a scream. Then another guy plugged her sore throat with his thick black cock. T-Ankh watched as the kooky singer was pulled down onto her knees on the mattress and forced to suck the dick of every single one of his entourage, as well as that of old Herbert who kept smiling and muttering “Goddamn” under his breath.
In the space of two hours she lost count of the number of cocks that passed her lips. Her jaw ached and her eyes stung and she felt sick to her stomach with all the sperm that hadn’t been blasted across her face or into her hair. Some of the men tried to outdo the others, slapping her face from side to side with their shafts and calling her a whore. One held her eyelid up and came straight into her eye, and another made Phoebe sneeze by blowing his load up her nose.
They all had a pretty decent beer buzz going by the time Phoebe gagged on Herbert’s grey-haired old pecker. He told stories of raping Charlie’s girls in the ‘Nam, of the day his unit caught a sniper and she lasted months back at base. There had been a bit of a problem when a visiting ARVN officer recognised her as one of his spies; his own daughter. They’d had to trade him a nurse to keep his mouth shut. Her family was told she was killed by a mortar round. Back in the present he fucked Phoebe’s cum drenched face for ten minutes, pulling out only to have her use her tongue on his balls, and then stood back without blowing his load.
“Ain’t you goin’ to come, old man?”
“Patience is a virtue, Mr T-Ankh.”
“My Nigga!” laughed T-Ankh, slapping Herbert on the back.
Phoebe remained kneeling, arms crossed across her tits and face down towards the mattress. Her spirit was broken, and her throat terribly painful. In a moment of insanity she tried to pray to cat spirits, but could not make the words. Sperm bubbled on her lips as she hissed and winced, and when T-Ankh ordered her bra and panties removed, she didn’t even struggle.
“Bend the whore over that cupboard,” he ordered, “It’s time to give her what every bride wants – a baby!”
Phoebe was pulled to her feet and forced to bend over the cupboard the director was bound in. There was a small gap along the top, and she thought she saw movement inside. Before the throat-raped blonde babe could think further, she felt her stomach churn again. There was another cheer as she vomited sperm over the cupboard, where it quickly drained down the gap. The vomited fluid seemed to burn Phoebe’s throat badly, for it was mixed with bile and digestive fluids.
T-Ankh’s boys splashed some beer over the pool, washing it down into the cupboard and masking the smell. The man himself let her get on with retching, so she’d be free to concentrate when he came in her. Herbert had claimed her panties, and sat to one side sniffing them merrily. Richard started laughing suddenly, wild and braying. He’d just remembered where they tied the director. Others helped themselves to more food and beer and argued over music.
Phoebe hoped her torment was over, but as she looked around she saw only men jacking their cocks back to hardness. She’d always loved sex, had a lot of it consensually, but since Mike... she only wanted Mike. She imagined he would not want to be with her, not after she was defiled over and over by so many men. A last spark of defiance made her close her thighs together when T-Ankh probed his fingers into her hairy pussy.
“Shit! Bitch still ain’t learned her place! Bent over, drooling come, and she shuts her damn legs! Grab ‘em!”
Phoebe’s legs were strong, for she was went jogging, kept fit and liked walking about the city whenever she could. It seemed for a moment as If she might even be stronger than the pairs of black hands prying her thighs apart and slapping her ass. She grunted and struggled, but in vain. Soon T-Ankh’s cock was pressing though her bush to her pussy, and then just inside her lips. Phoebe managed to croak a last defiant cry…
“Oh no…!”
…and then T-Ankh tore inside and claimed her dry pussy for the rape. The big man moved his hands from her ass and reached around for her breasts. He mauled them roughly as he forced more of his length inside her. Phoebe wanted to scream at the sudden pain, T-Ankh’s raping cock was like a knife being forced into her pussy. Blood stained his shaft as he roughly opened her up.
“Goddamn! She’s tight! If her ass is tighter I ain’t sure how I’m going to get in!”
“Brute force ought to do it, T-Ankh.”
That got a laugh. Phoebe’s legs kicked out against the cupboard as T-Ankh lifted her from the floor and used her weight to press down against his cock. He wished he’d thought to have the boys bring a mirror. He thought it would be great to bounce his victim on his shaft and make her watch. Teeth gritted, he completed the painful business of stuffing his entire length up into her. Phoebe was crying silently, rivers of tears cutting through the drying sperm caked on her face.
T-Ankh twisted around, showing the room Phoebe impaled on his dick. He gripped her breasts tightly, flesh squeezed between thick fingers, to prevent her full weight pressing down. Phoebe shook her head from side to side. Those caught by dislodged sperm cursed angrily and swore they’d fuck her up twice as bad for it. T-Ankh turned back to the cupboard, slammed Phoebe face down in the remaining mess, and pulled his cock almost all of the way out.
She banged her fists hard on the cupboard as he gave her the length again, but all in one go. Her labia were splayed wide around the violating cock, and her cervix bruised from the impact. T-Ankh raped Phoebe’s cunt good and hard, fucking her like it was going out of style. Once he was done, he’d told the boys they wouldn’t have to take turns. She was surely capable of taking on five guys at once. Just as Phoebe felt things couldn’t get any worse, T-Ankh’s relentless pounding began to feel good.
His shaft rubbed against her clit on every stroke, and Phoebe’s shame was complete. Pleasure In agony; pleasure in total degradation. Gangraped and liking it. T-Ankh pulled out so suddenly, she almost lost her footing. Her cunt gaped wide, leaking blood and forced arousal. T-Ankh pressed his black shaft between her trembling buttocks, and rubbed as much of her juice around the hole as he could. It was going to be like putting a fence post in a pencil sharpener, he thought.
There had been a time when half the guys Phoebe met had expected her to do anal. She found out Ursula had been using her name again. She wondered if the horrible rape was somehow her evil twin’s fault; had she made gangbang porn? Phoebe had never had any interest in taking dicks in her ass and was so dazed by the assault she didn’t understand what T-Ankh was doing until he pressed forward. The penny dropped as her sphincter fought. A new agony, worse than anything she’d felt during the rape so far, began. There was just barely enough bloody pussy juice splashed around to prevent Phoebe’s asshole tearing as T-Ankh worked his purple crown into her rectum. Phoebe’s ass was finer than most any other woman he’d fucked.
“Oh Shit! This bitch is amazing! She squeezing down so hard it almost hurts me!”
Phoebe managed to wail, a thin keening agony that couldn’t come close to expressing the pain and shame of having a huge black cock forced into her virgin ass. She thought she might pass out, or vomit again, but instead all she could do was grip the cupboard as T-Ankh opened her up until she took him all. He pulled back hard on Phoebe’s blonde hair, grinding his cock inside her incredibly tight, hot ass. It was almost a shame how loose the girl’s butt would be once everyone had had a turn, but what the hell.
T-Ankh slowly buttfucked Phoebe, enjoying the simple pleasure of a helpless white woman impaled on his cock. He decided he would definitely be doing it more often with girls who didn’t want it, at least, if he could find more girls who didn‘t want it. She was the first to ever turn him down. The suffering was a total power trip, even better than fucking sluts who did want it. As Phoebe’s muscles loosened he raped her faster, withdrawing and thrusting back in as she continued to wail. Her lightly tanned skin seemed pale in comparison to the log plowing her ass, and he felt his balls tightening up in his sack.
“Time to get a bitch pregnant!”
T-Ankh didn’t give a damn that his cock had been up Phoebe’s filthy asshole, the health issues of shoving it right back up her cunt mattered nothing to him mid-rape. The tugging on her hair ended, and she felt his greasy thumbs pressing into her ass as he re-entered her cunt, and T-Ankh amused himself by pulling her anus wide and spitting in the hole. A few thrusts in Phoebe’s cunt was all it took then, and T-Ankh painted her battered cervix with his sperm. Even through her red haze of agony, Phoebe felt him stiffen and shake and heard his groans. She knew the meaning, and cried a little harder.
“Smelly cunt, smelly cunt, look at me breeding you!” he sing-grunted as he came.
It wasn’t his best wordplay. He’d thought about something around her previously being a massage therapist and the rape puns there, or something about happy endings. In the end he went with the parody of her song and decided he was better with words when he wasn’t balls deep in someone. She had become pretty smelly; there was a heavy stink of sperm in the air and the room was hot enough that she was sweating like a pig.
As soon as he was done, T-Ankh tossed Phoebe bodily onto the mattress. He didn’t need to issue an invitation before the nearest men swarmed her, twisting the crying white woman into positions that pleased their lusts. Very quickly a pair of them had her crushed between their dark skinned bodies as they penetrated her pussy and ass. They raped her roughly in tandem, finding a rhythm that pleased both of them and even brought more shameful pleasure to Phoebe. When they came inside her they were replaced, and so it went on for hours. Phoebe was raped repeatedly in her cunt and ass, and had to suck the occasional cock too. When they thought her too loose, she had two dicks at a time forced in her holes. Her breasts were rendered black and blue by rough tit jobs and spunk ran heavily from her body.
Herbert waited his turn, discussing music with T-Ankh as they watched the show. He’d been a Jazz Sax player in his youth, but gave it up. Phoebe wasn’t able to hear their talking, all she could hear was the slap of flesh on flesh, the wet noises of rough penetration and the endless and inventive abuse they heaped on her. There was nothing like rap lyrics for degrading women. Sometimes she came close to climax, and hated it while at the same time wishing for a break from the pain.
She was breathing shallowly when the entourage had finished with her. Many of the men had been back for seconds, but they were by then too drunk or tired or thought her too messy to continue. Phoebe was drenched in spunk, her face was barely recognisable under more recent facials and her thighs and ass were almost totally white thanks to the caked mess. She lay on her back, legs wide, arms up behind her head where they’d been left. It seemed as if every single ounce of pride and joy had been raped from her body, leaving her a husk of a woman.
It was Herbert’s turn.
The old security guard knelt between Phoebe’s thighs and rubbed her clit with his hand. There was so much mess in the way it was only years of experience that allowed him to find it, but as a complex individual he didn’t seem to mind the sperm of so many other guys. He rubbed Phoebe’s clit skilfully, and watched her eyes focus, while her chest showed faster breathing. Slowly, gently, then faster, the old negro brought Phoebe’s body to the brink of a powerful climax. Her pussy twitched, expelling more semen onto the mattress.
Herbert entered Phoebe, sliding his long cock all the way to her core with ease. He fucked her twitching pussy quickly, weight on his arms as he lent over her. He had witnessed her total degradation, but he wanted more. Herbert wasn’t going to be happy until Phoebe was raped to orgasm. He pumped faster, grey haired balls slapping wetly until Phoebe’s eyes grew wide and she somehow found the strength to arch her body from the bed. Herbert came at the same moment, giving her the potent sperm he’d been saving for hours.
Phoebe fainted. Herbert almost did. They pulled him to his feet while a few of the guys took camera phone photos for souvenirs. T-Ankh had considered filming the gangrape for a sex tape release, but never got around to organising it. The last of the beer was gone, and he realised he needed to piss. He aimed his flaccid cock at Phoebe and let loose, quickly followed by the others. She came around to the sensation of being drenched by the beer piss off a whole gang of black men, but all she could think of was the shameful pleasure.
Phoebe told nobody afterwards. She took the threats of them being able to get her very seriously. T-Ankh had lied and said they did it all the time, and bent cops made people who tried to talk disappear – Phoebe’s long distrust for the police made it seem plausible to her shattered mind. Her poor childhood had already left her psychologically damaged, but the gang rape pushed her over into total madness. Mike knew something was wrong with his wife; suspicion at first as she refused to let him touch her, but confirmed when she had the black baby. He managed to insist on a DNA test, thinking it was a work colleague, but it matched a sample on file for Herbert, who’d passed away weeks before. Their marriage ruined, Phoebe’s mind totally cracked, she took to the streets, whoring her life away and singing crazy ditties as she was plowed. Chandler came looking for her; he and Monica were worried. Afterwards, he wasn’t quite sure how she’d talked him into banging her in the ass.
Amy Green had a call to come round to his place in a catholic schoolgirl uniform. She managed to source one that looked perfect, down the last detail, and the doctor’s daughter even put her hair in pigtails. She stepped through to T-Ankh’s office expecting just the rapper, and saw instead twenty naked black men and a banner declaring the “Herbert Memorial Gangbang.” She loved every hour of it finding pleasure in pain and degradation. She hoped to get her two sisters in for the next one. She knew she could get Jill in, and Rachel had to be bored since getting back with Ross, right?
As for the music video director, they kind of forgot about her - but what the hell, you did too.
End.

Review please! See if you can spot all of the plot holes. No, not that kind of hole.
I will reply to all reviews here - http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/17603-jaydees-tv-review-reply-story-discussion-and-additional-notes-thread/

Citation: “brought down to her knees” in the summary is a paraphrase of a lyric from the song “I’ll be there for you, by The Rembrandts.

Citation: ““Smelly cunt, smelly cunt, look at me breeding you!” is a paraphrase of a lyric from the song Smelly Cat originally from episode “The One With The Baby On The Bus”

Citation: “Oh no” was almost Phoebe’s catchphrase.
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Phoebe's Black Day