THE SUNDAY DRIVE
(Part 1)
By TXpanM
(9/20/97)
Well, you've read the Sunday paper and there's nothing on TV. You're so
bored, you're ready to beat your head against the wall. You remember something
about the leaves turning colors this month. That beats screaming, you figure.
Although you only have an old housedress and panties on, you don't plan on
getting out of the car. Slipping your feet into some old mules and grabbing
your purse and keys, you head out the door. The afternoon sun feels good on
your face as you put your car in gear and head out of town.
This doesn't seem so bad, you think, as you leave town and start into the
hills. The colors of red and orange and yellow are pretty. Seeing a side
road, you take it on a lark. The road gets more narrow and steeper, but the
trees are more numerous, almost making a canopy over the road. You think this
is much better than just sitting around when the car engine suddenly dies!
Turning the key, the starter cranks, but the engine won't engage. You quickly
discover hitting the steering wheel with your hand doesn't help much. Now you
wish you were bored back at your place!
Resigning yourself to a long walk back, you grab your purse and get out of the
car. City girl that you are, you lock the car. It's not as warm now with the
trees blocking the sun, but not uncomfortable. You haven't made it to the
main road when you hear what sounds like car noises. At least you won't have
that long walk back. You pick up your pace a little as you hear the noises
coming closer. Suddenly, you stop. You recognize the mechanical noises now.
The sound of a motorcycle -- many motorcycles -- just around the bend in the
road. The noisy machines sweep around the corner and you see three, five,
more motorcycles -- a motorcycle gang! Dirty leather jackets, long hair and
no helmets. You turn to run back up the path toward your car as the two lead
bikes catch up with you and circle you, cutting off your escape.
Laughing, the "leader of the pack" gets off his 'cycle and, without warning,
reaches out and grabs you by your shoulder-length light brown hair. Dragging
you by your wavy hair, he pulls you backwards onto his motorcycle seat. You
raise your hands straight out in front of you to ward him off and someone
behind you grabs your wrists and pulls them over your head, forcing you to
recline on the motorcycle seat. The leader parts your still-covered legs as
far as your housedress will permit. He reaches into his front pocket and
pulls out a switch blade knife. He sticks the closed knife in your face and
pushes the button. He has positioned the knife so when it springs open, the
back of the blade (dull side) hits you across the lips. You are horrified and
scream out your fear. "Shut your fuckin' mouth, you bitch" he says as he puts
the knife to your throat. "You keep quiet or I'll cut your fuckin' throat."
You close your mouth and wimper. Satisfied, he laughs and, flipping the knife
around, he puts it inside your neckline and pulls it away cutting the top of
your housedress. Holding the knife in the palm of his right hand, he grabs
the edges of the neckline in both hands and rips the top open. You gasp at
the violent act as he sees your large, dark pink nipples and says "nice tits,
girly." He puts both of his hand on both of your breasts, one nipple in each
palm. Smiling at you, he quickly makes two fists! You scream in suprise and
pain. He puts the knife blade against your left nipple and moves it up and
down; not cutting, but scraping, letting you know it is there. "If you scream
again, I swear I'll cut this off!" he says and you have no doubt he means it.
He begins to rip away the rest of your dress and, where it won't rip, he cuts
it. You are now naked, except for your panties (and shoes), with the reminants
of your dress under you. He grabs your nylon panties and pulls. Pulls so
hard, it lifts your hips from the motorcycle seat. Being nylon, the panties
stretch, but do not tear. He slips the knife into the left leg hole and out
the waistband and cuts. He grabs the remaining piece of your panties and
pulls again. It doesn't rip, it is just pulled from under you and halfway down
your right thigh.
As he reaches for your pubic area, he yells to his "old lady": "Barbara, get
that chain grease from my bike. A white bread girl like this will need some
lubrication." Two of his fingers roughly touch your vagina and he stops when
he feels how wet you are. "Whoa up there, Barb, come see this" he says "The
little slut is wet." "You like this, you want this, don't you?" he says as he
unzips and pulls his stiff penis from his jeans. As he rams himself into you,
he says "she likes this, boys, come and get it." At this, you hear more
zippers from just outside your sight. As you see motion on the edge of your
vision, you feel rough hands on both of your breasts and an erect penis on
your left cheek. This does not count the hands holding and pulling your
wrists. The hands cruelly pinch and twist your nipples while the penis is
slapped against the left side of your nose! The voice attached to the penis
says "If you bite my dick I'll pull out every one of your teeth with my pliers"
as he slaps his penis across your slightly parted lips. "Suck it, bitch, lick
it" he says as he slaps it against your face again and again. He cruelly
twists and pulls one of your large nipples and your gasp of pain actually
pulls his penis into your mouth. "Be nice, girly, or you'll really pay."
The leader has been pumping you regularly and now is ready to ejaculate.
"Here's some beauty cream for you" he say as he pull out of your vagina and
"gets off" on your bare stomach. When he finishes, he takes his hand and rubs
it around your belly and rib cage. "Like that, bitch?" he asks as he grabs
and pulls your vaginal lips. It's hard to tell what torment you're reacting
to as you grimace and wimper. "Finish up, boys, I wannna make that cabin by
dark." As if on command, the one on your left lets go in your mouth, making
you gag. The leader grabs you on your naked right side and pulls you off his
bike and onto the dirt as he says "Get that trash off my bike. But bring her
with us."
Barbara, the leader's "old lady" steps on your stomach with her motocycle boot
and removes the mules from your feet. As she throws them into the woods, she
says "You won't be needing these." Continuing to hold you down with her foot,
she takes clothesline from one of the bikes and ties your hands together at
the wrists. She says "get up, you're coming with us" and pulls on the rope as
she climbs on the leader's motorcycle. Stark naked except for the reminants
of your ruined panties around your right ankle, you gain your feet as the
motorcycle starts up a different country road. They are going slow so you can
keep up in your bare feet, you think to youself as you hear another motorcycle
come up behind you and a leather gloved hand slaps the small of your back.
You shout and stumble, but keep your feet and continue running behind the
motorcycle holding the rope. From your other side, a booted foot kicks the
outside of your full, soft hip and down you go. You figure they'll stop now
that you're on the ground. You figure wrong. The motorcycle slows, but does
not stop as it drags you at full length on your front. You try to get to your
feet, but you cannot get the leverage. The lead motorcycle pulling you slows
more and Barbara jumps off. As she does, you stop sliding along the ground.
She comes closer and uses the end of the clothesline to whip your back. "Get
up, cunt" she said as she uses the rope end on your back again and again. The
stinging pushes you to get up and, when you do, Barbara jumps back on the
'cycle and it takes off again. As you jog with your arms pulled in front of
you, other motorcycles run up and fall back, tying to hit and kick you. Some
do slap your back and rounded sides, but no one kicks you again. You're
begining to pant and sweat as you continue to be pulled along. Your citified,
normally-shoed feet react to the dirt road as you stumble and fall again, this
time rolling over onto your back. The motorcycle pulls you along the dirt
road stretched out on your back then slows as you see more motorcycles try to
hit you. The "old ladies" on the backs of the 'cycles try to kick you.
Barbara gets off the motorcycle again and, standing over you, whips you with
the rope end across your soft belly. You quickly turn over, trying to get to
your feet again. Barbara whips you again, across the back. As you rise to
your knees, she kicks you in the butt, causing you to fall, face forward, flat
out on your chest. Again, she lashes your back with the rope end saying "Get
up, you slut." You roll over to plead with her with your round blue eyes and
receive another lash, this time across your breasts. Tears begin to run down
your cheeks, making riverlets in the dust on your face when Barbara says
"That's what I wanted to see." With that, she jerks the rope as you get to
your feet. She jumps back on the motorcycle and you begin to jog again as the
'cycle moves on.
The motorcycle pulling you does not go as fast now which is good as you're
begining to tire. Looking ahead past the motorcycle, you see a clearing in
the woods and a small, run-down cabin there. The leader pulls his motorcycle
up next to the cabin door and you stop behind it, sweating and panting for
breath. As the other motorcycles line up, their riders, male and female,
smack you and kick at you, saying very unkind things. The leader says over
his shoulder to Barbara "Bring that in here." To emphasize the order, Barbara
jerks on the rope which binds your wrists together and pulls you into the dark
cabin.
Light begins to enter the cabin as shutters are opened on the glassless
windows. You look around and see two sets of bunk beds with only boards in
them; no springs or matresses. A closed double-door cabinet is attached to
one wall. There is a kitchen-like table in the middle of the small room, but
only one wooden chair. A fine layer of dust covers the floor which now shows
the prints of their boots and your bare feet. The leader grabs your tied
wrists and, with a florish, opens his switchblade knife and cuts the
clothesline. Your arms drop to your sides as he looks at the abused body in
front of him. Dirty and sweaty, with red whip marks across your soft belly
near your navel and across your breasts, he sees the many full-length scratch
marks on your sensitive skin as a result of your being dragged along the dirt
road. He slowly walks around you and observes similar sights on your back,
except for many more whip marks on your back and a boot mark on your left
buttock. Back in front of you, he looks into your tired blue eyes and moves
toward you. In reaction, you step backward until your butt hits against that
kitchen table. When you stop, he places his open hand on your chest above
your breasts and pushes you backwards. Off balance, you fall back on the
table and find your hands are immediately grabbed. You wince as your wounded
back is pulled slightly on the table. You can feel four people working on
tying you to the table legs: each of your ankles to a leg with your feet flat
on the floor and each wrist pulled over your head and out to the other two
table legs. Were there a mirror on the ceiling, you would see yourself bound
hand and foot, bent over backwards with the top of your buttocks on the edge
of the table. That and your arms pulled over your head cause your back to
arch, thrusting your breasts upward. As you consider your situation, your
dark pink nipples harden even before they begin to work on you.
Secured to the table, they all gather around you, waiting for permission from
their leader to touch you. They stare at you for what seems like a long time
before the leader notices your large, erect nipples and touches you between
the legs. Feeling your wetness, he says "What a slut you are. Well, we're
going to try everything we can think of to find something you don't like! And
while we're searching, you better not cum or you'll be severely punished." To
emphasize his words, he slaps you hard on your pubic mound. Your mind reels:
you can't control the lust in your body and if what has happened to you so far
is not severe, what could he possibly mean?
The leader has "shot his wad" earlier; therefore he tells his gang "She's all
yours" and he turns his back on you. The men all move forward with the number
two guy taking his place standing at the end of the table between your legs.
As he crams his swollen member into your wet vagina, you feel hands on your
breasts and two penises pushing at each side of your face. Plus another on
slapping and rubbing on your belly. Then, you feel a stiff penis insert
itself into your right palm. The rope around that wrist limits the motion in
that hand, but it doesn't seem to mater. They all shout at you at once:
"Suck this, bitch. Work it, slut. Lick me now! Like your nipples pinched?"
This along with various grunts and moans. You try not to respond to the penis
in your vagina, but your hips begin to thrust in time with his. Seeing this,
he slaps your soft hips and says "God, what a whore you are!" You try to lick
and suck both penises at once to avoid further abuse, but it only enrages
them. "You're not supose to enjoy this, bitch" one says as they both begin to
hit your face with their penises. One by one, they "get their jollies" and
ejaculate on or in you. When all the men have gotten off, you feel yourself
being untied. The leader tells the women: "Get her out of my sight while we
figure out what to do next." Barbara grabs you by your brown hair and pulls
you up on your feet and drags you to the door. You feel more hands on you as
you are pushed and prodded outside into the early evening.
Outside, under a tree, you are thrown to the ground on your back. Barbara
climbs onto you and pins your outstreched arms to the ground with her bare
shins as she kneels over your chest and face. You now have closeup evidence
that she has taken off her jeans as her hairy crotch is just inches from your
chin. "Listen, cunt. Since you showed up, we haven't gotten any attention.
And it looks like we won't until they break you. So, you're going to pay
attention to us and if that makes it easier for them, so much the better."
With that, she grabs your stringy, sweat-soaked hair and pulls your face to
her crotch. "Lick and suck me now!" she demands. You try to obey, but gasp
as you feel someone pulling your pubic hair. You begin to kick your legs to
stop the torment. As your reward, you are whipped across your pelvic area,
maybe by a studded belt, maybe a motorcycle chain. Your cry makes Barbara
look over her shoulder. She bounces on your chest and says "I don't care what
they're doing down there -- you do what I say." Your shout also attracted the
attention of the leader who comes out and over to where the "old ladies" have
you on the ground. He says "I don't want you girls to do anything that will
let her get off. I've promised to punish her if she cums. Who ever lets her
cum will get the same treatment she gets." He then turns and leaves you to
their devices. She bounces on your chest again to ensure she has your
attention and say "You heard him. You better not get off on this. If you do,
I'll hurt you worse that they will. Now suck me hard." You suck as best as
you can while gasping from what is being done to the rest of you. You feel
some kind of spring clip being applied to each of your hard dark pink nipples.
And two more to the lips of your vagina. Movement at both locations indicates
that some string or chain is being attaches to each clip. The connection is
apparently being tightened as you feel pain at all four attachment places.
You find if you raise your hips, it puts slack on the connection. But the
strain is already causing your hips to quiver. Barbara fells the vibrations
from your hips and, thinking you are having an orgasm, she bangs your head on
the ground and says "Stop it!" She jumps up and feels between your legs. Her
hand encounters a great deal of wetness. Thinking the ejaculate from the guy
in the cabin is the result of your orgasm, she throws herself on you, knocking
the breath out of you. She has done this to whisper in your ear "I told you
not to do that -- if you tell them you got off, I'll torture you to death.
This will give you a sample of what I mean." Her weight has stretched you out
causing the connection to pull on the clips. Thinking you may have gotten off
due to the clips, she undoes the ones on your nipples.
She gets that clothesline again and ties your wrists together again and throws
the end over a limb of the tree you've been laying under. Pulling you taut
until only the balls of your feet touch the ground, she ties the rope to the
tree trunk. She walks in front of your and gags you with a cloth wrapped
around your mouth and tied in the back of your head. You watch the other
"mamas" watch you and you think you detect fear or at least sorrow in their
eyes. They must think they'll all be punished by the leader. Or maybe they
know what is about to be done to you. Barbara has walked somewhere behind you
and now returns with a limber length of branch from which she continues to cut
the leaves with her knife. You realize she is creating a switch and you
shiver with anticipation. However, Barbara thinks your shivers are from the
cold as the temperature is dropping. "This should warm you up" she says as
she whips the switch through the air causing a whistling sound. She lays the
switch on your left breast and moves it back and forth across the nipple.
Without warning, she strikes with a vertical motion. Her short arm motion
caused a sting on your breast and nipple, but will not leave a mark. Taking a
step back, she rears her arm back and brings the switch around with great
force. It hits you in the midriff above the navel and, as her arm motion
continues past you, the rough surface of the switch is dragged across your
belly. The gag barely conceals your scream of pain. "This is what I meant
when I said it could get worse" Barbara says as she brings her arm back again.
She drives the switch forward again hitting and dragging it across your rib
cage below your breasts. Again, your scream is muffled. Walking around and
swinging her arm, she lands another on the small of your back, about where the
table edge cut into you. Barbara's cruelity seems to bother some of the
"mamas" watching your punishment. Back in front of you, the switch is applied
with great force to your thighs below your crotch. Your pitiful, muffled
screams bring the leader out to see what the commotion is. He sees the angry
red marks Barbara has made on you and knows he has the answer to his unasked
question of what is going on. "What are you doing?" he says, anyway.
Barbara stops and says "I wanted her to know what would happen if she came
before you told her she could." "Well, leave her alone and come in the cabin
-- we want you all to hear what we have planned for her tomorrow."
Knowing they won't be accused of letting you orgasm, all the women smile
weakly and follow the leader into the cabin. Barbara throws the switch at you
and it bounces off your legs as she leaves you suspended from the limb. You
wimper to yourself and cry and gasp from the pain of this beating. It so
occupies your thoughts that you forget the clips and chain still attached to
your vaginal lips. As your breathing slows, you notice how chilly it has
become since the sun has gone down, leaving barely any light to see. Despite
that, your body cries out for rest and, as your head slowly droops to your
chest, you fall into a light and troubled asleep.
