MAFIA
by V.P. Viddler
1
Ralph was acting most strangely, and Bryll did not know why. But darling,
why do I have to go to this thing? Bryll asked again. If it's just going to be
one of those boring family business things... You do, Ralph said shortly. My
father wants us both there. It's important. But why? It just is, Bryll. That's
all. You'll find out. Now get ready, I don't want to be late. Sighing, Bryll put
on a plain but attractive black dress which came down to mid-calf. Nothing too
fancy or too daring for Ralph's family. This was obviously going to be a formal
gathering, though not really a social affair. Family business. Usually a big
bore, and why they insisted that she attend this one tonight Bryll could not
imagine. But no way could she say no to the family. La famiglia. No way at all.
Sighing, Bryll finished dressing. How do I look? All right, Ralph said, but he
was frowning. What was wrong with him? What was going on? It couldn't be....no.
No way. No way he...or his family...could possibly know...about David....
Down to the first floor. To Ralph's father's sanctum. Ralph knocking at the
door. Come in. It was a fairly big room, dark, still, but now lit with many
lamps and populated by what seemed at first to be many men. Family. Don Ricardo,
Ralph's father, sat behind his big wooden desk. To his right stood Don
Palladino, his brother and consiglieri; to his left, Bruno Montera, his
bodyguard, large, still, mountainous and menacing. Looking around, Bryll saw
most of the other Dons of the family standing and sitting about the room. Don
Francisco, Ricardo's other brother, fat, gross-looking, cigar-smoking. Don
Alberto, his oldest son. Don Gabrilli, Don Louis, Don Cabrini. And others.
Cousins. Uncles. In-laws. And by a window, old Don Padrone, Ralph's grandfather,
the patriarch, the wasted but still powerful family head, once boss of bosses,
now a distant god. All the family men, it appeared. Waiting. Watching. For what?
And why was she the only woman? If this was just business, why was she here?
What was going on?
Don Ricardo, as always, was most polite and soft-spoken. Ah. Good. You are
here. How are you, Bryll? I'm good, thank you, Don Ricardo. And you? Bryll had
to admit she was nervous. But why? I am not too well, alas, Don Ricardo said.
Not too well, Bryll. His eyes, always bright, always formidable, almost scared
Bryll. As did the way he said her name. Always. And now again. Her waspy,
non-Italian name. Bryll. An outsider. Not even a catholic. Brought into his
family by his son, accepted, she knew, provisionally, for Ralph's sake, but
always an outsider. Suspicious. Not to be trusted. Bryll's throat was suddenly
dry. It couldn't be....
No, Don Ricardo was saying. Not well at all. Looking at Bryll, his gaze
boring holes in her brain. Betrayal, Don Ricardo said. Betrayal makes a man ill.
Do you understand me, Bryll? I--no, Bryll said. But she was shaking just a
little. Striving to breathe evenly, Bryll got hold of herself. What do you mean,
Don Ricardo? Don Ricardo waited. Betrayal, he said. Betrayal of my family. Of my
son. Of our honor. Our traditions. I think you know, my son's wife, that in our
family that is not tolerated. I think you must know that. It is not accepted; it
is not condoned; it is not permissible. And it does not go unpunished. I--I'm--I
don't know what you... Bryll said.
Don Ricardo stood up. We have something to show to you, Don Ricardo said.
Sit down, Bryll. Sit right here. Coming around his desk, motioning her to a
chair in the front row of chairs lined up across his room. Front and center. The
other chairs filled with family, waiting, watching. Smoking. Still. But for one
chair to the right of Bryll's, in which, once she was seated, Don Ricardo sat.
Ralph had gone to stand in the back, now standing against a wall. Why was he not
with her? Don Ricardo to her right. Don Palladino to her left. And now, in a
chair just behind her, Bruno Montera. What? What was it? Bryll was frightened
now.
A signal from Don Ricardo. A wall panel opening, showing a television. A
flickering. And it began playing. A tape. It was a tape of...it was a room, and
it looked familiar, it was....no...dear god, Bryll thought, it's a dream, let me
wake up, please god... But it was not a dream. Now there was David. In bed.
Calling. Bryll? Sound. Sound, color, vivid, clear, god no, it can't be,
please... I'm coming, darling. Her voice. And now Bryll on the screen. Christ.
That nightgown. No. No don't... She was taking it off. Posing for David,
smiling, turning, walking for him, slipping the nightgown off. A black skimpy
bra. Black skimpy panties. David looking.
Silence in this room now. Utter stillness. Bryll shaking her head, trying
to deny, to block this out. It couldn't be. No please. If this was...but it
was... Oh Christ. Bryll almost screamed. She started to get up. Don Ricardo put
a hand on her arm. It was tight. It hurt. It was a warning and a promise. Bryll
stayed as she was. Shaking hard now. Almost choking. Almost vomiting. And on the
screen Bryll took off her black brassiere. Chairs creaking in the room, the
dons shifting, leaning forward, gazing. And Bryll on screen taking off the
skimpy black panties. Slowly. Rolling them down. Slowly. For David. Who was
saying, oh yeah, baby. That's it. Show it all to me. Now bring it to me, baby.
And Bryll walking to the bed, to him, lying down with him, and now the camera
had a very good view, and Bryll's head was spinning, her heart was pounding as
part of her insanely was figuring the location of the camera and most of her was
drowning in fear, in shame, in horror, in humiliation, in frantic, pounding
fright. No please. God please, it's not real, ohhh Christ....
It was real. Around her now loud breathing, audibly loud, shifting of
positions, low murmurs, as on the bed Bryll and David kissing, bodies rubbing,
entwining, now David on top of her, his hard cock, putting it in her and christ
she was moaning, on the screen Bryll was moaning and saying yes, yes David, oh
jesus yes.... and now Bryll's long luscious legs around his body, tight around
him, clutching, pulling, and David moving, doing it to her, and both of them
twisting, squirming, pounding, and Bryll now in her chair trying to scream but
unable to produce sounds, trying to get up now, but Don Ricardo holding onto her
arm, fingers digging, and Don Palladino clutching at her other arm, and now,
behind her, Bruno Montera had hold of her long tawny hair, pulling at it,
pulling her head back, holding her down, straining her scalp, and Bryll was
moaning now in the chair as well as on the screen, but moaning not with passion,
but with fright, and pain. With terror and agony. Sitting and moaning and
shaking and hurting, with aching arms held fast and scalp burning as Bruno held
her hair, pulling just enough to allow her still to watch that tape... I am
dead, Bryll thought, they will kill me, as now she was on top of David, sitting
on his hips, moving up and down, naked breasts bouncing, thighs churning,
fucking David joyously, laughing. David's hands on her body, David arching and
coming and Bryll crying out, throwing back her head, writhing in ecstasy.
Christ. Ralph was standing back there, watching too, would he allow them to kill
her? Would he have any say in it? Probably not. Probably he wouldn't want to
stop it anyway. Now she was--oh god. Jesus. Going down on David now, all up
there, all of them watching, murmuring now, her mouth on his body, going down,
kissing his cock, moaning, licking it, David grinning and arching, now taking it
in her mouth, taking it in in a way she had never done for Ralph, oh god, Ralph
watching, all of them watching, that moaning mouth swallowing his cock, twisting
on it, now sucking it, slowly, lovingly, sucking, up and down, up and down,
faster, slower, David groaning, up and down, David pulling at her but Bryll
staying as she was, looking up at him and sucking him, sucking him, on and on,
until David came in her mouth and christ his gism spilling out of her lips and
running down her face and Bryll sucking and licking and rubbing.... Closing her
eyes, ohh christ, and now Don Ricardo digging his nails into her skin and
saying, Watch, Bryll. Watch it all. Watch it, slut pig. Watch! And she did....
It was over. Silence. Don Ricardo and Don Palladino released her arms.
Bruno let go of her hair. Bryll didn't move. It was no use. She wasn't going out
of that room, she knew, until she was told she could. If she ever was. Don
Ricardo now going back behind his desk, sitting. Looking at Bryll. A whore, Don
Ricardo said finally. A whore in our family. A fucking Protestant whore. She had
not known him to swear before. Bryll was shaking. Forcing sounds from her
choking throat, Bryll said, Are you going to kill me? Don Ricardo gazing at her.
Killing is too good for you, Don Ricardo said. Killing is vengeance. It is not
punishment. We will punish you. In this family we punish betrayal. Not to say we
may not kill you still. But that is for another day. For now it is to punish
you. How will we do that. Don Ricardo looked around. Father? he said. Old Don
Padrone stood slowly. His voice was a soft croak. Whipping, Don Padrone said.
Whipping to within an inch of her life. And branding, Don Padrone said. And sat
down. Palladino? said Don Ricardo. Don Palladino did not stand. Whipping, he
said. And branding. Don Francisco? Whipping. Don Cabrini? Whipping and branding.
Don Louis? Whipping. Branding. Don Gabrillo? Whipping and branding. Don
Francisco? Don Francisco stood slowly. The woman is a whore, Don Francisco said.
She should be treated as a whore. Of course, Don Ricardo said.
Bryll was almost numb as two dons lifted her from the chair, pulling her
forward toward Don Ricardo's desk. Placing her against it, facing Don Ricardo,
they bent Bryll across it, pushing her body down so that her breasts jammed
against its surface, her chin also touching it as she fought to raise her head,
looking with panicky eyes into Don Ricardo's impassive face. Don Ricardo took
hold of Bryll's wrists, pulling at her arms to hold her in position, pinning
them down as he sat there. Bryll's body was sharply bent, her posterior sticking
up and out, her dress skirt hiking slightly on her shaking calves. Bryll was
gasping with fright, pain and shock. What-- she started to say. What--what are
you--
Bruno, Don Ricardo said. Bruno moved behind Bryll and stooping slightly,
pulled up the bottom of her dress. Now he was ripping it, splitting it up the
back to the waist. Letting it fall, hanging now in two halves on either side of
Bryll's lower body, showing naked calves and thighs and that round jutting
protruding rump tightly encased in thin white panties. All of it, Don Ricardo
said. Bryll was suddenly struggling almost unconsciously, fighting against his
grip on her wrists, pulling, tugging, but to no avail. And Bruno Montera had his
hands on the waistband of her panties, and now ripped them from her, baring her
behind, dropping the ruined cloth to the floor. Bryll was crying now.
Ralph, Don Ricardo said.
Ralph came forward. Bryll was still frantically pulling at Ricardo's grip,
but it was no use. Turning her head Bryll saw Ralph advancing, saw him
unbuckling his belt, saw him pull it off. Holding it by the buckle, winding it
around his hand a few times, finding the right length. No, Bryll said,
whinnying, gasping, no god no....
Ralph, Don Ricardo said. Do it right. Don't stint.
Don't worry, Ralph said.
Bryll gave a cry like a terrified animal. Which is what she was, she
thought, as Ralph raised his arm. No please....she got out.
A swishing. A crack. A scream.
A line of fire across her behind. It was her screaming, Bryll realized and
she was already screaming again. Screaming first in pain, then in anticipation
as Ralph swung again. And then in agony. No. No no it couldn't no. Swish. Crack.
Scream. No. Swish. No. Crack. Scream. The pain unbearable. Swish. Crack. Bryll
was screaming continuously now. She couldn't stop. Again and again, swish and
crack and agony exploding across her behind and throughout her body. Swish and
this time on her thighs, crack! Swish, never stopping, on and on, again and
again, and Ralph panting now and the strap rising and falling and Bryll was
twisting and kicking now, trying somehow, anyhow to get away from that ongoing
horror, stamping her feet and kicking and flailing her legs until Ralph said,
Hold her legs, keep the bitch still. And two of them, Bryll couldn't tell which,
stooping, right and left, each taking an ankle, pulling her legs open, holding
them wide, holding them tightly, off the floor so that she was resting on the
desk, its edge cutting into her stomach, crying and howling and twisting and
trying to beg as Ralph's whipping went on and on, and the dons now voicing
approval, watching, urging him on, swish, crack, swish crack swish crack Crack
CRACK CRACK CRACK.....
Had she lost consciousness? Bryll didn't know. But Ralph had stopped
whipping, though the agony was hardly diminished, and she was still in position,
Don Ricardo holding her wrists, two others holding her legs apart, and now Don
Ricardo was saying, Look at me, whore. But she couldn't. Look at me, pig. And
now a hand in her hair, it was Ralph, pulling her head up sharply, Bryll crying
out horribly with the pain in her scalp and looking now forcibly into Don
Ricardo's face, his furiously burning gaze, whinnying in agony, gasping and
sobbing. Cocksucking cunt whore, Ricardo said. And Ricardo spat full in Bryll's
face, hard and copiously, spat as Ralph's brutal pulling hand kept her that way.
Bryll took it as though struck by lightning. But Ralph still held her hair.
Cock-loving whore, Ricardo said. All right. You like cock, slut? You like that
maricon's cock, that one you were fucking? That man you sucked off, that
motherfucking bastard you betrayed my son with, betrayed my family with, you got
off on sucking his cock, right? All right then. All right, whore of Babylon,
cheating worthless slut whore. All right. Suck it now. Suck it all you want.
Here it is. This is his cock. His cock and his balls. All for you, cunt. All for
you. Here!!
And Don Ricardo took from a drawer what looked like-- And Bryll was
screaming, a sound dissimilar to the sounds she had made under the whip, a new
sound, an unconceivable sound, a cry of horror so profound that it sent chills
through all of them. And almost fainting, but that Ralph still held her head up
by her hair. For what Ricardo held was a cock and balls, a human cock and balls,
bloody still, soft with horror, and Bryll knew it was David's, knew without a
shadow of a doubt, David, oh good Christ, they had killed him. Castrated and
killed him, and Bryll was crying and almost vomiting, and Ralph was pulling
still harder at her hair, dragging her head far back, forcing her mouth, no,
jesus god NOOOOOOO...forcing Bryll's mouth open and Don Ricardo saying All
right, slut pig, suck this. Suck on it all you want. Eat it up, whore! And no,
he was stuffing it in her mouth, no god no, pushing it into her wide gasping
sobbing screaming mouth, noooo please christ, stuffing it in brutally and Bryll
gagging and choking and almost vomiting NOOOOOO...and god Bruno Matera was there
with a gag, Ralph holding her head still, Ricardo pinning her wrists, two dons
still holding her ankles apart, Bruno placing the gag over Bryll's mouth and
pulling it tight and tying it off and it was so tight and it kept her from
spitting the thing out of her mouth, held it in inexorably and Bryll was still
choking and gagging and retching, mouth filled with David's dead cock and balls
and struggling through all that pain and agony and horror struggling not to
vomit for now she knew if she did she would suffocate and probably they would
let her, would enjoy watching her slowly agonizingly choking to death on her own
vomit, so she had to fight it down, the disgusting bloody flesh filling her
mouth, its taste on her tongue, in her throat, Bryll making awful muffled throat
sounds through that tight gag, twitching and bucking and bridling as they
watched, struggling to breathe slowly through her nose, and finally Ralph let go
of her hair and Bryll's face hit the desk again.
Ralph? Don Ricardo said.
No. Ralph's voice. I won't touch her.
Bruno, Ricardo said. Fuck her ass.
No. All the saints in heaven stop this. For god's sake it couldn't... Bruno
stepping behind her, no, his hands, his huge hands on her buttocks, christ no
please...spreading, pulling apart, showing Bryll's anus my god you can't, please
anything, you can't let this... Bryll struggled to raise her head, to look into
Ricardo's face again, to plead, beg, to say she would do anything, that she was
sorry, that anything at all no for god's please jesus but now Bruno unzipping
and Bryll felt his christ so big no and she tried to scream and couldn't,
nothing but tiny whimpering sounds, so frantic, so desperate, and straining,
pulling, hands holding so tightly, fighting with no strength left to her and his
huge thing at her anus and straining no and.....
Ringing in her ears and her body and her soul and loud but faint but
distant but distinct sounds of men laughing, shouting, urging him on, praising
him, Bryll floating on agony and horror, as Bruno fucked her ass. Hard.
Brutally. Savagely. Uncaringly. Plunging, raping, lunging, ripping, in crass
deliberate violation in front of the family and Bryll praying to pass out but
not doing so, howling like an animal around the bloody dead flesh in her mouth,
against the numbing stifling gag at her lips, unearthly sounds coming out,
inhuman sounds, and Bryll's body out of control but imprisoned by hands and now
animalistically violated for their satisfaction, for their delectation, for
their vengeance and for their lust.
When finally with a roar Bruno finished in her Bryll was suddenly released
and slid to the floor, lying prone, sobbing, moaning, retching, twitching, half
naked and filthy.
Stand up, Don Ricardo said.
She couldn't. Could not move at all.
Stand up, whore.
Floating toward unconsciousness.
Ralph, Don Ricardo said.
Ralph standing above her. That strap, no. Rising, no. Coming down. Across
her back. A piteously muffled scream. Now Ralph's hand again in her hair,
pulling. Merciless. Bryll with cries of pain scrambled somehow to her knees,
Ralph pulling upwards, Bryll standing now, swaying, shaking, whimpering. A nod
from Ricardo and Ralph now ripping the tape from Bryll's mouth. Reflexively
Bryll spat out the thing in her mouth, pushing, retching, spitting, getting it
out and gasping frantically for air, mouth wide, bosom heaving.
Strip, whore, Ricardo said.
Bryll swimming at the brink of fainting. Dress torn from the waist down,
lower body exposed, she stared at Ricardo. Show it to us, cunt, Ricardo said.
All of it. Show it to us like you showed it to him. Pointing contemptuously at
the still bloody piece of flesh on the floor. Bryll was trembling, shaking her
head without knowing she was doing it. Looking at Ralph, standing with the strap
still in his hand. Almost unconscious now with horror and agony and humiliation,
Bryll lifted a hand, two hands, to the front of what was left of her dress. Turn
around, Ricardo said, face the family, show all of us. And Ricardo rose again
and came around and sat in a chair and Bryll was facing them all, all of them
watching, waiting, and they had seen it all anyway on the tape, but this was
different, this was in person, and personal, and it was for shaming her and
violating her and degrading her and Bryll sobbed and began to unbutton the
buttons. In a sudden profound silence. All the buttons. Down to the waist.
Pulling the dress apart. Slipping it off, dropping it. Facing them in only a
brassiere. Black. Waiting. Silent. Bryll was crying openly. As she reached in
back of her and pulled the hooks apart. Now slipping off the straps, hesitating
but not long it was futile, and Bryll dropped the bra and dropped her hands
helplessly and stood for their inspection. Now gasps and murmurs and soft groans
and shifting in seats. Standing for a long time. Until Ricardo said, Don
Padrone?
Yes, Don Padrone said.
Ricardo said, Go to him.
Walking across the room. Bryll did not know how. She was numb. But now
standing in front of the small old man. Who raised his wrinkly spotted hands
and placed them on her breasts. Bryll made a sound. The old man's fingers found
her nipples, taking them in thumb and forefinger. And squeezed. Hard. Bryll
screamed. Don Padrone pulled downward, forcing Bryll to her knees in front of
him, writhing in pain and moaning. Take it, Don Padrone hissed. Take it out,
girl. Still pinching her nipples. Crying, Bryll got his fly open and his small
half limp cock into the air. He let go of the nipples and clutched both hands in
her hair. Hard. Do it, girl. Do it now. And with no choice the kneeling Bryll
brought her mouth to him and took his twitching cock into it and began to suck
him, sobbing, shaking, watched by all, sucking the ancient cock, making it grow
hard in her mouth, hearing his stertorous breathing above her bobbing head,
feeling her own tears coursing down her face, the pain in her scalp, the bile in
her throat, the lustful shouts of watching men, the gasping commands of the old
man. Lick, girl. Lick it for me... Doing it, using her tongue, taking all of
him, frantic to finish and stop the pain, but knowing it would never stop and
now he was coming in her mouth and down her throat and Bryll had to swallow, she
knew she had to swallow and she did, trying not to gag, to choke, taking it
down, swallowing, and as finally he was done Bryll sinking again to the floor,
gasping for air, curling, writhing, spasming in shame and terror.
To me now, Don Palladino said from the other side of the room. Bryll slowly
trying to stand, knowing she couldn't but trying, but now Ricardo said, No.
Don't get up. Crawl, whore. Crawl to him. Crawl for us all. And all of them
waiting. Watching as Bryll got somehow, painfully, slowly, awkwardly, onto her
hands and knees, and then, slowly, painfully, awkwardly, began to crawl across
the room. On all fours, like an animal. A dog. A pig. Crawling in front of the
watching men. Crawling along the floor. Naked. Crying. Shaking. Crawling. All
the way across the room. To Don Palladino.
His cock was already out. Don Palladino also grabbed her hair and made use
of Bryll's mouth, grunting and groaning as she pleasured him, but soon pulling
away, pushing Bryll down onto her back on the floor, stripping himself rapidly,
and Bryll crying out from who knows what unexpected depths, No oh god no please
no don't do it please please I can't.... Why that outcry now, why when obviously
it was futile, much too late, christ why, but jesus Ralph was standing above her
and the strap and no no please I'm sorry, but too late and Bryll tried to roll
over, roll away, and Ralph said, hold her. Please, Bryll said, moaning,
bleating, please no I... But two of them taking her arms and somebody holding
her legs and holding her spread out, sprawled out and helpless and it was no
use, this time Ralph was going to teach her, and the strap rising high and
coming down and cracking viciously across her breasts, and Bryll howling and
almost pulling away from the hands, bucking wildly, but the strap again,
CRRRAAAACCKKK on her breasts and again and Bryll screaming and saying please and
Ralph almost mad with rage and WHAP CRACK SWISH CRACK! Her breasts on fire and
Bryll shrilling herself hoarse. Okay, Ricardo said finally and Ralph stopped and
sat down and Ricardo said Now. Bryll. Whore. All right, Bryll said, gasping,
sobbing, All right all right all right allright please god yes anything, and
Ricardo said, Let the bitch go and they did and Ricardo said, Ask Don Palladino
to fuck the shit out of you, and Bryll said, got it out somehow, said, Don
Palladino please...sobbing but saying it. Please fuck the shit out of me, Bryll
said. Spread for him, Ricardo said. Spread it all out for him. For all of us.
And Bryll did, spreading her legs apart and opening her arms and arching her
body, that aching, tortured, pain-wracked naked voluptuous body. And Don
Palladino took it, fucking the shit out of her just as Bryll had asked him to.
And then all of them did. All of them taking her, taking her in every way,
using her cunt and her ass and her mouth. Singly, and in twos, and in threes,
and in groups. Raping Bryll constantly. Making her crawl. Making her suck.
Making her do anything they could think of. All night long. All of them but
Ralph. It went on and on through the night. At one point they took her into
Ricardo's small bathroom and put her in the bathtub and pissed all over her,
washing the gism off her body with piss, soaking her body and face and hair with
piss, making her drink it, laughing, joking, asking her if she liked it, and
Bryll said what they wanted, did what they wanted, and so they let her wash off
and clean up and then it began again. Raping. Fucking. Sucking. Crawling. And
they said Are you a whore, Bryll? And Bryll said yes. Say it, they said, and
Bryll said, I am a whore. Again and again she said it. I am a whore, I am a
slut, I am a cocksucking cunt bitch filthy whore... And she was.
And at dawn it was branding time. Don Francisco lit a fresh cigar in honor
of the occasion. Bryll was whimpering. Shaking. Don Francisco was smiling. Wait,
Don Padrone said. All night the old man had not participated, as though that
initial sucking had used up all his lust. But now he stood and took off his
clothing and lay down on his back on the floor. I want her as she is branded,
said Don Padrone. As she is taught whose she is. As that sign is burned into her
forever. Ours. La famiglia. La cosa nostra. Burn it into her flesh and burn it
into her brain. His cock was hard and quivering. Bring her to me, said Don
Padrone. And four of them picked Bryll up and brought her to him and pulling her
legs apart slid her down onto his upright cock, Bryll moaning and shaking, and
they twisted Bryll's arms back and down so that her body was arched backwards,
that writhing squirming terrified body pulled tautly back, breasts standing out,
standing up and out, nipples hard with fright, and struggling vainly as Don
Francisco puffed on his cigar, making it burn and glow redly, and crouched down
in front of her as Bryll writhed on Don Padrone's cock, the old man's hands
sliding up and down her thighs, savoring that soft smooth curvy flesh, savoring
Bryll's fear and helplessness. And now Don Francisco raised his hand, bringing
it forward, and now as he smilingly brought it into contact with Bryll's
straining, quivering body, as he slowly pressed it home and ground it
deliberately, painfully, mashingly, twistingly into Bryll's nipple and aureole,
burning, grinding, twisting, branding her for life, Don Padrone shot his ancient
dessicated gism triumphantly up into Bryll's jouncing, squirming, desperately
straining bucking spasming agony-dominated body.
Bryll thought they would kill her, but they didn't. They put her in a room
upstairs, locking her in, and kept her there for a month. During that time
anybody who visited her had a right to have his will with her. And they all did.
But Ralph. All day they would stop in to fuck her. To rape her. And Bryll had to
do anything they wanted. To stay alive. And she did. For a month. One at a time
or two or more. Fucking and sucking and crawling and taking it in the ass and
doing what she had to do. To stay alive. Why? She didn't know. When Don
Francisco brought in the dog Bryll said no. Don Francisco gave her a choice. A
free choice. Not fucking the dog and dying. Slowly. Or fucking the dog after
being hung up by her wrists and whipped on every part of her body until he could
no longer raise his arm. Or fucking the dog after being tied down and having him
use his cigar again. All over her body. Bryll chose the second way. Long before
Don Francisco was tired she was begging to fuck the dog. Bryll's screaming on
that occasion attracted most of the dons to the room, so all of them ended up
watching her with the dog. Fucking it. And sucking it. And fucking it again. All
of them found it most satisfying.
Finally as that month was up Bryll was let go. She could not walk. Bryll
crawled all the way to Ralph's room. Crawling to Ralph, begging him to take her
back. Sucking his cock. Licking his ass. Promising to be faithful always, and to
be his slave. Ralph hung her by her wrists from the ceiling and had her watch as
he fucked through the night with his new young girlfriend. Ralph asked Bryll if
his girlfriend could watch him whip her. Bryll said yes.
2
Bryll was eating Don Francisco's shit. The fat cigar-smoking capo had
defacated into a bowl and put the result, two long thick brown turds, on the
table in front of the chair Bryll was sitting in, naked, with waist, torso and
legs bound tightly so that she could move only her arms. Clamps, agonizingly
tight, cruel alligator-tooth clamps, bit into her nipples, making her squirm and
writhe continually in the chair. Ralph had given Bryll to Don Francisco for the
day, to be his property, to do whatever he wanted with her or to her. Ralph did
that a lot, giving her to various of his family and friends, and sometimes to
virtual strangers. It was probably Don Francisco whom Bryll hated most to be
lent to. Don Francisco could hurt her unimaginably, could think up the most
agonizing torments; and that was what
he enjoyed doing most. It wasn't enough that the clamps kept her body in awful
pain, or that he could make her scream horribly for him any time he wanted to,
which was often, by grinding out his ubiquitous cigar on her shrinking helpless
body; he must show her how low, how degraded, how debased, how insignificant she
was by making her do things no human being with any thought of dignity or
self-worth could possibly do. But Bryll had no dignity or self-worth any more;
it was not allowed. Not if she wanted to stay alive. Don Francisco put his shit
in front of her. "Eat it all, girl," he said. "All of it, understand? I don't
care how long it takes you, I don't care how much you throw up, I don't care how
sick you get, I don't care if it takes all day and all night. You sit there till
you got it all down.
Clamps and all. And if I get bored I'll just burn you a bit, that's always fun.
Or use the whip. Or think up something new for you. Now eat it." Don Francisco
did not give Bryll a knife and fork; she had to use her hands. Bryll thought it
would not be possible for her to do it. Just the sight of the turds was
sickening to her, and the smell turned her stomach. But she had no choice. Bryll
began. As soon as she put the first tiny bit of shit into her mouth, she
vomited. Bending over as best she could to try to avoid splattering herself with
vomit and shit. Don Francisco laughed. You can clean it all up later, girl, Don
Francisco said. At that rate you'll have a big pile of it to work with. It will
be fun to watch you clean it up. With your hair maybe. Or with your tongue,
how's that? Bryll vomited again. Don
Francisco laughed. It took Bryll hours to eat it, hours of retching and gagging
and vomiting and crying and vomiting and hurting and writhing and desperate
swallowing. Hours of agony and horror. But she did it. Don Francisco took away
the ropes, but not the clamps, and then made Bryll get down on the floor and
roll around in the vomit and soil she had made. Bryll rolled for him. Don
Francisco said he would wash her off, and he pissed all over her, his piss
splashing on her filthy body and her aching breasts and her sobbing gasping
face. Drink, Don Francisco said, pissing at her mouth, and Bryll drank. Finally
Don Francisco took her into the bathroom and bound her to the shower head and
ran hot steaming water on her body till Bryll was screaming loudly enough to
attract attention from the whole house. Don Francisco was happy about that,
wanting them all to know his power, his
mastery, his skill with her disgraced and dishonored body. Clean, Bryll lay down
on the hard bathroom floor as Don Francisco delighted in taking her body,
crushing her with his punishing weight, pulling at her hair, mauling her breasts
with the clamps still on them, ramming her with his hard rampant merciless cock
and making her twist and buck and flail and cry out in pain and agony and horror
and degradation. Fucking her front and back, raping her vagina and her ass and
her mouth, laughing at her pain, laughing at her violation, making her suck him
for an hour, slow, fast, hard, soft, demanding her tongue, her lips, her throat,
and Bryll did it all, knowing that finally he would give her back to Ralph, who
would hang her swinging from the ceiling all night before giving her tomorrow
to....who....oh god....who.....
3
How she was to knock on the door Bryll did not know. Turning, knocking with
her elbow, not too loud, three times, turning back, waiting. Hoping nobody would
come down the hall. What would she do? What could she say? Who is it? A man's
voice. Probably Jim Ray Bursachi. That was the man Bryll had been sent to visit.
A man she did not know. Had not seen. Who had not met her. But a man to whom
Ralph was indebted. Bryll swallowed. It--it's Bryll. Bryll Dallaccio. Who? Oh
god. Please, Bryll thought. I--I'm Bryll Dallaccio, Ralph's wife. I--didn't
Ralph tell you I was coming? What the hell-- And footsteps now approaching the
door, the door opening. A man standing there. Annoyed. A not very good-looking
man, not young, not old. Not fat, not thin. A man. Looking at her. Looking at
Bryll standing there at his door in a thin tight pullover and a short tight
skirt. High heels. No stockings. No bra. And with her hands tied tightly behind
her, bound securely with strong thin rope. The man looking, starting, staring,
looking her up and down. Jesus, the man said. What-- A pause. Ralph, huh? Ralph
sent you? I thought he told you, Bryll got out. No. So okay. Come on in. Bryll
did, and he was closing the door, turning, looking up and down again. So what's
this all about? Jim Ray Bursachi said. Bryll took a shaky breath.
I--Ralph...says he owes you. I don't know what for. He is giving me to you for
the day. And night. As a gift. A gift, Jim Ray Bursachi said. A gift, huh? And
just what am I supposed to do with this gift, can you tell me that? What's your
name again, honey? Bryll, Bryll said. Bryll. Okay, if you say so, Bryll. Now can
you tell me what Ralph wants me to do with this gift of his? Not that it's not a
nice gift, mind you. Not that it's not pretty and damn sexy and all wrapped up
in a fine bright package...complete with string... But what's it for, can you
tell me that, Bryll. For...for...anything you want, Bryll said. That's
what it's for. Anything you want. Anything? Jim Ray said. Anything at all? Yes,
Bryll said. Jim Ray nodded. Uhuh. Uhuh. Okay. I get it. Kind of a payoff, only
without Ralph having to put out any cash money, is that it? Kind of a bribe,
maybe? I don't know, Bryll said. I don't know anything. Uhuh. But you know you
came to me all tied up and said I could do anything with you I wanted, isn't
that right, Bryll? Yes, Bryll said. I had to. I have no choice. Ralph owns me.
Right. And now I own you. For today and tonight. Is that it? Yes, Bryll said,
whispering, shaking. That's it. All right, Jim Ray said. Good. Fine. Terrific.
Go stand against the wall. Stand... Right. Against the wall. Right over there.
Go on. Back up against it, stand straight. Good. That's it. Bryll darling.
That's the way. Now. Walking toward her, smiling, talking. And as he reached her
Jim Ray without warning drew back his fist and punched Bryll as hard and as
powerfully as he could in the pit of her stomach. Bryll was on the floor, not
knowing how she got there but rolling spasmodically against the not-too-clean
carpet, unable to breathe, trying vainly to gasp for air, choking, gagging,
retching, jerking, legs flailing, arms instinctively pulling at the unyielding
ropes, turning purple, body curling into a ball and uncurling, kicking, bucking,
gurgling, rattling noises coming from her throat, the agony that suffused her
body overshadowed by the necessity to pull in air, to breathe again, until
finally with a great heaving gasp she did, letting it out with a loud moaning
cry of pain and fear and shock and helplessness. Jim Ray was watching. Looking
down, smiling slightly, nodding pleasantly as Bryll's rolling, twisting,
spasming body writhed for his delectation. Okay, Jim Ray said finally. Good
show, Bryll. So. Is that the kind of thing Ralph had in mind, do you think?
Bryll could not say anything. Bryll? Jim Ray said. I'm
asking you a question, Bryll. You don't want to be rude to me, do you, Bryll?
Bryll did her best to still her gasping pants. Yes, she said finally. Yes, I
think it is. And now Bryll was crying softly, but soon stopped herself. She was
in for it. This was a man like Ralph, like Don Francisco, like Ralph's father
Ricardo, like...like all men. All of them. Wanting to see her in agony. Wanting
to make her scream. And crawl. And grovel. Wanting to degrade her, to destroy
her, to violate her body and mind and soul. Which was what her life was now
about. Damn, Bryll, Jim Ray said now. I love the way that skirt thing climbs up
your legs as you're twisting around like that. I mean the damn thing is so
fucking short anyway, isn't it? And now I can see practically everything you got
down there. And Bryll honey, you have got the most fantastic legs I ever saw,
and I'm not just saying that, baby, those are truly gorgeous gams, all the way
up, at least as far up as I can see, which is pretty far up. But I'd like to see
still more, so why don't you pull that thing up still further for me, okay,
Bryll? Pull it up all the way. Go on, darling. But--but I can't... Bryll said
fearfully. My--my hands... Oh I know, your hands are tied that way, and I want
you to know I do appreciate that little touch, Bryll, because it makes your tits
push out so beautifully and thrust so tight against that top that I can almost
make out your nipples. And you're not wearing a bra either, isn't that right,
Bryll. Yes, Bryll got out. Still panting slightly. I mean no. I'm not. Ralph...
Yes, good old Ralph, Jim Ray said. Well. Anyway. The thing is, I don't think
having your hands so sweetly tied up that way is really going to stop you from
pulling that skirt up for me if you really try, Bryll. And I do want you to try.
Do it, Bryll. Go on. Because I don't want to have to punch you again. That was
just to get your attention, you might say. I could
kick you though, Bryll. The way you're lying there on your side, I could just
stand here and kick you right in the tit, to show you I'm not kidding about what
I want you to do. Wait... Like this, Jim Ray Bursachi said, and swiftly he drew
back his right foot and did just that, kicking her hard and fast and viciously
with all the power at his command, the toe of his shoe sinking cruelly into the
springy vulnerable yielding flesh of Bryll's right breast. Bryll screamed loudly
and shrilly, agony bursting through her straining body, which now rolled onto
its back, rocking, writhing, arching, going crazy in its pain, her arms pulling
so hard that her wrists scraped themselves raw against the unmoving bonds.
Howling. Bucking. Jim Ray stood over her. Bryll now pulling with more purpose at
her bound wrists, straining her arms, grabbing frantically for her skirt at the
back, pulling it up, desperately bunching it in her hands, babbling. I'm doing
it, Bryll cried hopelessly, please I'm doing it, and bunching the skirt in her
straining aching hands, until it was pulling up over her thighs, all the way
over her panties, pulling up to her waist, pulling. Ah, Jim Ray said. God, those
thighs. Those legs. God. Bryll. Open them. Spread them out for me. Go on. All
the way. Spread yourself. Bitch cunt whore cocksucking slut twat shit fuck baby.
Do it. Do it. And Bryll, crying, sobbing, shaking, did it. With his words
pouring over her, with her bound helpless body lying at his feet, with her hands
crushed beneath her, with her body arching and straining and squirming, Bryll
spread her gorgeous naked fabulous voluptuous fantastic wonderful mouth-watering
shapely curvy sensuous scrumptious legs far apart, as far apart as she could,
the muscles and tendons of her magical thighs standing out against the soft
smooth flesh, the sculpted molded calves
tightening, flexing, thighs splaying, and Jim Ray Bursachi reaching down to rip
the flimsy panties from her loins, laughing as Bryll's gaping vagina awaited
him, now throwing himself down on top of that body, between those straining
stretching legs and looking into her eyes and grabbing her hair and pulling her
head back and saying, Kiss me, Bryll baby. Kiss me good. And I mean good. And
pulling at her hair and crushing her body and raping her cunt with his cock and
his mouth was on hers and Bryll was kissing him, kissing him for all she was
worth, moaning with agony and shame and horror into his mouth and giving him her
tongue and probing his mouth with it and taking his down her throat and twisting
under him and kissing him and wrapping her legs around his body and kissing him
and pressing her lips against his and playing with his tongue and crying and
groaning and sobbing and gasping and fucking him fucking him fucking him fucking
him fucking him as Jim Ray was raping her and ripping her top open and mauling
her breasts and biting her lips and plunging into her again and again and Bryll
crying and fucking and whimpering and writhing and clutching him with her legs
because she didn't want to die and she had to do what Ralph said and this was
only the beginning for Jim Ray and she had to survive and Bryll was kissing and
fucking and arching and Jim Ray was coming and he heaved up above her and stuck
his throbbing cock in her face and Bryll took it in her mouth and licked it and
sucked the gism out of it and took it down her throat and on her face and Bryll
was screaming as he clamped her nipples and it was just starting, the day was
young, the night was coming, and Bryll crawled for him all night long and in the
morning she fucked his dog and then went home to Ralph.
4
Bryll was standing at the foot of Ralph's large bed, stark naked, her body
stretching tautly with arms and legs spread wide and bound tightly to the two
tall bedposts at the bottom corners, facing inward so that she could watch Ralph
and Cindy lying on the bed, fucking. Ralph was lying on top of Cindy, who was
young and curvy and blonde and whose hands were tied behind her back, and who
was crying and moaning and struggling vainly as Ralph had his way with her.
Ralph found it stimulating that Cindy was bound that way, and that she was so
unwilling; and he found it still more stimulating to be raping the girl in front
of Bryll, his wife, particularly in the present circumstances. Standing behind
Bryll was Bruno Montera, Ralph's father's personal bodyguard, a huge hulk of a
man who at the moment was holding a thick black vicious-looking leather strap,
with which he was whipping Bryll, at regular intervals, with all the strength of
his arm. With each sound of the strap whistling through the air, accompanied by
Bruno's grunt of effort, Bryll would gasp or whimper or moan piteously, her body
flinching, pulling instinctively and vainly against the ropes that held her body
spreadeagled; and with each loud terrible crack of that strap across her back,
she would scream loudly and shrilly, a sound of such agony and horror that it
was obvious that the pain was almost inhumanly unbearable. Bruno Montera's eyes
glittered as he whipped the strap again and again, tirelessly, relentlessly,
across the cringing flesh, hitting Bryll's back, striping it from shoulders to
waist, with an occasional lash at her curving buttocks and her
deliciously splaying, fabulously curvacious thighs. But mostly on her back, up
and down, again and again, hard as he could; and every scream was adding to
Ralph's pleasure, giving him additional thrills as he went on fucking the bound
and sobbing young girl beneath him. Oh yeah, Ralph growled, his hands moving
roughly over Cindy's twisting body, his hips pounding his cock harder and harder
into her squirming jouncing pussy, oh yeah, do it Bruno, whip the shit out of
the filthy adulterous bitch. Scream for me, baby, Ralph would say, and Bruno
would make the strap whistle and crack against Bryll's back, and Bryll would
scream for him. For them. And Ralph would laugh and fuck Cindy harder, finally
turning Cindy over and forcing himself into her tiny ass, as Cindy howled, but
not as loudly as Bryll. How is it, Bryll darling? Ralph said, fucking Cindy's
ass. It's good for me, I'll tell you that. You whore slut bitch, yes, scream,
baby, it keeps me so hard, it makes me so fucking randy to hear you yelling like
that. Don't stop, Bruno. You can have her when it's over. Can't he, Bryll? Bryll
was screaming. Ralph stopped fucking Cindy for a moment and turning to Bryll's
outstretched form raised himself up and reached out to clasp her outthrust
breasts, her soft pink quivering nipples, in his hands. Squeezing. Can't he,
Bryll? Ralph said, grinning at her. Say it. Say it, damn you! Pinching with all
his strength, and Bryll howled YES! YES YES YES HE CAN YES PLEASE GOD YES!!!....
Good, Ralph said, and now pulling out of Cindy's ass he turned her again and
grabbing her long blonde hair, pulling it back and down so that the girl's
twisting face was turned up to him, forcing her mouth open with the pain and
pressure at her scalp, Ralph rubbed his big hard straining cock across her face,
and then brought it to her lips. Take it, girl, Ralph said. Take it in, Cindy
baby, suck it for me, or do you want to be where Bryll is? And he rammed his
cock hard into that moaning, gasping, sobbing mouth and laughed as Cindy began
to choke and gag. Bruno, Ralph said, and Bruno swung the strap, and Bryll's body
stiffened and bucked and Bryll was screaming louder than ever. Yes! Ralph said,
pumping away into Cindy's retching face, yes, that's it baby, you scream all you
want. Ralph...Bryll was gasping, quivering, frantic. Ralph please. Make him
stop, please. Please, Ralph no more. I can't. Ralph. I'll do anything, please.
God. Ralph. No. No. NOOOOOOOO... Ralph was holding hard to Cindy's hair, making
her cry out in torment around his cock as now he shot his gism into her mouth
and down her throat with the inspiration of Bryll's latest scream. Sweet baby,
Ralph said, and pushing Cindy away from him lay her down on her back and began
slapping her breasts. What will you do, Bryll? Ralph said, his hand swinging
back and forth, cracking rhythmically across Cindy's round high mounds as the
girl twisted weakly, kicking her thrashing legs and trying vainly to get away.
What can you possibly do that you haven't done for us? Or won't do if we want
you to. What, Bryll? Nothing, that's what. Not a damn fucking mother-grabbing
thing, right, Bryll, baby? Ralph...god....I'm begging you...begging you... A
little pity...oh god please...just a little pity...
HAAAUUUUGGHHHHHHH.... Good boy, Bruno, Ralph said, and now he gave Cindy a
vicious shove, so that the girl rolled off the bed and landed hard on the floor,
writhing and kicking. You can fuck this one first, Bruno, Ralph said, and as
Bruno, grinning, moved to the helpless naked form on the floor, Ralph took the
strap from his hand. Pity? Ralph said, facing Bryll now. Pity, is it? Bryll's
eyes widened as Ralph wrapped the strap around his hand, leaving just a short
length dangling. Swaying. Swinging. Bryll shook her head pleadingly. Pity, Ralph
said, raising his hand. Ralph, Bryll cried out fearfully. Ralph for god's
sake... Was it pity you had when you fucked that bastard son of a bitch David?
And now Ralph swung the strap and lashed it hard, hard, hard, across Bryll's
right breast. Bryll screaming and writhing. Was it pity when you sucked him off,
Bryll? Swing. Whap! The left breast. Bryll howling, trying to plead. Was it pity
when you got on top of him? WHAP! And fucked his brains out? WHAP!! And came
with him, you filthy whore, and sucked him again? WHAP! WHAP!! WHAP!!! Bryll
pulling desperately at the ropes till her wrists were bloody, her breasts
bouncing, torso bucking back and forth, mouth wide and screaming, screaming,
screaming, as WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!!! again and again across her agonized bounding
breasts, and then Ralph stood up on the bed and grabbed Bryll's hair and pulled
her head most painfully downward and forced her mouth over his cock. Fucking her
mouth, raping it, raping it relentlessly as Bryll's howls were muffled by his
hard stiff meat, and at the same time Bruno Montera was bringing howls from
Cindy, mauling her breasts and holding on to her straining thighs, pushing them
back to the breaking point as he raped her asshole. Ralph shot his come into
Bryll's mouth, then lay down to watch Bruno pulling Cindy's face to his crotch,
fucking Cindy's mouth while pulling her arms up behind her, making her moan
around his cock, and finally starting to pull back her fingers slowly until they
broke, one by one, laughing and cracking each finger in turn, relishing Cindy's
horrible screams of agony around his cock with each snap, until all Cindy's
fingers were broken and Bruno played with them until Cindy's twisting spasming
moaning howling mouth made him come down her throat. At last Ralph cut Bryll
down and told her to crawl to Bruno and suck him until he was hard again. And
Bryll did that. And then crawling to Ralph and doing the same thing. And then
sucking both of them in turn, crawling, sucking, sobbing, and screaming as from
time to time they whipped her, front and back, to inspire her to suck them as
skilfully as she could, and Bryll did that, sucking and crawling and swallowing
as they shot into her fine sweet moaning gasping sobbing crying twisting
pleading begging screaming yelling gorgeous sensuous quivering aristocratic
mouth. Then Ralph and Bruno had Bryll use that mouth on Cindy, who with her
hands still tied and her fingers broken and her life ruined, came
uncontrollably, coming and coming and coming and sobbing and coming as Ralph and
Bruno laughed and Bryll saw them growing hard again and began to cry...
5
Cunt cocksucking niggerfucking twat whore, Ralph said. Is that what you
did, Cindy? Bryll said, licking Cindy's face, licking Cindy's mouth. You fucked
a nigger? Is that why they did this to you? Cindy could not answer, lying as she
was in a semi-conscious state with her bound hands and broken fingers crushed
beneath her young luscious quivering body, the agony still possessing that once
springy vibrant form. Bryll was crouching over Cindy, also in extreme pain, with
no broken bones but with her back and buttocks and thighs and also her breasts
striped with whip marks, wrists bloody from being bound not long ago, ankles
chafed, limbs aching with strain from which they had only a short while ago been
released. Bryll was licking and kissing Cindy on command of her husband Ralph
and of Bruno Montera, who stood
watching, Ralph still holding the thick hard leather strap with which Bryll had
been beaten by both of them, Bruno grinning and flexing the huge hands with
which he had deliberately snapped all of Cindy's fingers while fucking her
mouth. Bryll was doing what she was doing in order to avoid being hurt again, at
least for now. Obeying Ralph's commands, as she must always do. Bryll had licked
Cindy's twisting aching violated vagina for a long time, causing Cindy in her
ruined state to climax helplessly again and again, coming and coming and coming
as Ralph and Bruno laughed and laughed. Now Bryll was kissing and licking
Cindy's face and body and Cindy was half-consciously squirming and writhing and
moaning and begging. Fucking a nigger, Bryll said, god, how was it, Cindy? Did
he have a big cock? Was he
good, Cindy? Cindy was moaning as Bryll put her tongue in Cindy's mouth. I have
never fucked a nigger myself, Bryll said, and Ralph said, But you fucked that
asshole shit David, didn't you, cunt, and Bryll said Yes I did, and Ralph raised
the strap and brought it down to crack viciously across Bryll's back, and Bryll
screamed into Cindy's mouth. Sit on her fucking face, you whore, Ralph said.
Bryll said, I'm sorry, Cindy, and crawled up and turned to face Ralph and Bruno
and sat down on Cindy's face, splaying her thighs so that her cunt was pressing
directly down over Cindy's gasping panting moaning mouth. Cindy could hardly
breathe, and Bruno laughed, saying, lick her Cindy doll, lick that cunt for us,
go on. But Cindy could only whimper and twitch weakly, until Bruno got down and
took Cindy's foot
in his hands and said, all right, maybe your fingers didn't do the trick, maybe
you want your toes broken too, and Cindy made a terrible animal sound of fright
and horror and pleading and her body bucked, but Bruno said, do it, baby, and
bent Cindy's big toe back until it snapped. Cindy began to buck and jerk and
flail in agony, screaming into Bryll's vagina, and as Bruno took hold of her
second toe Cindy frantically put out her tongue and was licking, licking and
moaning and making stifled muffled begging noises. Do it, Bruno said, and broke
the toe. Cindy's thrashing tormented body bouncing helplessly up and down on top
of her tightly bound and broken torturously aching hands, adding to her pain,
Bruno snapping each toe in turn, going to Cindy's other foot, Cindy howling and
licking and shrieking
and arching and slamming back and screaming and tonguing and kissing and gasping
for breath and Bruno laughing and Ralph watching and Bryll squirming on Cindy's
face and going crazy with Cindy's tongue in her cunt and Ralph swinging the
strap to whip her across her bouncing shuddering breasts. You want to fuck a
nigger, you whore? Ralph said. You will all right. You will, Bryll, you will
fuck every nigger I can find, you got that? And Bryll was yelling, howling, YES!
YES YES I WILL YES ALL RIGHT PLEASE RALPH I WILL YES ALL RIGHT I WILL FUCK ANY
NIGGER YOU WANT ME TO PLEASE GOD RALPH STOP I'LL FUCK THEM ALL I'LL SUCK HIS
COCK I'LL LICK HIS ASS I'LL EAT HIS SHIT PLEASE RALPH I'LL WRAP MY LEGS AROUND
HIM AND FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF HIM I SWEAR I WILL RALPH PLEASE
HHHHHAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH..... And she did.
6
When finally Ralph decided to kill Cindy off he brought in the black man
that she had fucked and on pain of death made him cut Cindy's nipples off and
feed them to her. He forced Cindy to chew them and swallow them, and Cindy quite
visibly lost her mind, mewling like an animal, all sanity obviously diminishing
under the agony and inconceivability of what Ralph was making her do. Ralph had
the black man fuck Cindy in the ass as she was dying, continuing even after she
was dead, finally coming in the anus of a corpse. That was your last fuck,
nigger, Ralph said, and had Bruno castrate him. That is what I will do to you,
Bryll, Ralph said, if you ever try to run away from me. I will cut off your
nipples and fucking make you eat them. I'm not shitting you, Bryll. I know,
Bryll said. I will not run away. I will stay with you until you kill me, or you
give me to someone who kills me. Lick Cindy's cunt, Ralph said. Oh jesus, Bryll
said, oh good christ, Ralph, she's... I know, darling, I know she is dead, but
that's the fun of it, you know? Making you do something disgusting like that.
You fucking slut cunt. Ralph, I'm sorry about David, I'm sorry, it was just that
one time, that's all, it was only... I saw you, Bryll. In that film. I saw you
fucking him. And sucking him. And kissing him. And coming for him. But...you
killed him, Ralph. And I'll kill you too, Bryll, if I want to. You know that,
don't you? Yes, Ralph. I know that. Now I want to watch you licking Cindy, okay?
See if you can make her come now. You did it so well, you made the bitch climax
again and again, in spite of everything, didn't you? Real good tongue you have
there, Bryll. I remember it. I'll never feel it again, I wouldn't touch you with
a thirty-foot log, Bryll, but I know it's a great tongue. Now you can use it on
Cindy again, and if you make her come this time it'll really be something, won't
it? Go on, Bryll. Do it right now. And Bryll crawled to Cindy's body and spread
the lifeless thighs apart and taking a long breath put her mouth on Cindy's dead
pussy and licked it and licked it and licked it and licked it and kissed it and
licked it until at long last Ralph had had enough. Bryll threw up. Ralph
laughed. Lick that all up, Ralph said, and Bryll did.
7
I'm giving a dinner party tonight, Ralph said. For a group of the boys from
out of town. About thirty or so. It's a bachelor party, of sorts. I want you to
be my hostess, Bryll. All right, Bryll said. How formal is it? What do you want
me to wear? High heels, Ralph said. Black high-heeled shoes. All right. And what
else? That's all, Ralph said. Oh, Bryll said. At the time Bryll was hanging by
her wrists from a hook in the ceiling of their living room, the tips of her toes
just barely touching the floor. Ralph was walking around her, swinging a long
thin whippy cane through the air. Ralph now paused, standing slightly to one
side of her, raising the cane to tap its springy tip lightly against Bryll's
high, outthrusting right breast. You don't have any objection to that plan, do
you, Bryll darling? Ralph said. No, Ralph, Bryll said. No, I have no objection.
Good, Ralph said. Tapping the cane against her nipple. Tap. Tap. Tap. I'm glad
to hear that, Bryll. Because if you did, then I would have to do this. Ralph's
arm swung back. Bryll closed her eyes. A loud grunt from Ralph. A sharp
whistling sound. A vicious crack of wood against flesh. And a terrible shrill
ear-shattering agony-filled scream. Bryll's legs kicking spasmodically beneath
her twisting writhing body as the blow knocked her forcibly off her toes,
putting the whole flailing, swinging, squirming weight of that body on her
rope-bound and abraded wrists.
8
It was Christmas eve. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, and
so was Bryll. Hanging by her wrists, body taut and straining, breasts pulled up,
skin tight, in front of the roaring fireplace, with her legs spread wide and
pulled to either side of the hearth. Hanging that way as the fire burned
happily, singeing her backside. Bryll was gagged now, as Ralph and Donald had
grown tired of her moaning and pleading, and were most content just to look at
her, watching happily as she hung helplessly, unable even to writhe very much,
just enough to amuse the two of them, and whoever else they might bring in. We
can take the gag off again later, Ralph said. If you wish to hear Bryll scream,
which I know you will enjoy. Thanks, buddy, Donald said. Just look at that! I'm
so hard I could screw Santa Claus. You can screw Bryll instead, Ralph said. All
you want. I know, Donald said. I know I can. And I will, buddy. You can be
fucking damn sure of that. I will. But just look at her now. Christ. Look at her
eyes! I know, Ralph said. He moved close to Bryll, looking into her eyes. Bryll
darling, he said softly. How you must be suffering. Ralph raised his hands and
put them on her breasts. Bryll shook her head. Hopelessly, reflexively, knowing
it wouldn't stop him. Ralph smiled. And squeezed. Hard. As hard as he could.
Bryll's taut body went tauter. Ralph did not stop. Bryll whinnied behind her
gag. The ropes creaked. Ralph did not stop. Donald was watching and grinning and
almost panting. Look at that body, Donald said softly. Look at how her thighs
bunch up. Look at her head moving. Listen to that sound, god, I can't stand it.
Build up the fire, Ralph said. When her back starts to blister, you can fuck
her. Can't he, Bryll? Bryll nodded, mewling. Merry fucking Christmas, Ralph
said.
9
Bryll was crying. But not for herself this time. She was crying for Trisha,
who was lying on the floor on her stomach and moaning around Ralph's cock.
Trisha's hands were tied tightly behind her back, and her remarkably curvy legs
were spread apart, with each ankle bound to a ring in the floor. Ralph was
sitting on the floor with Trisha's head in his lap, his hands clutching her
curly dark hair, holding it still, with his hard cock deep inside her sobbing
mouth. Trisha was young, a high-school senior who Ralph was breaking in for his
family. Trisha's skin was a deep cocoa color, smooth and silky and brown. Bryll
was crouching on the floor between Trisha's straining thighs, and at Ralph's
instructions was burning the girl's thigh with cigarettes. Packs of cigarettes
lay around her within easy reach, and discarded crumpled cigarettes lay in a
pile nearby. There was a line of burn marks along the back of Trisha's right
thigh, a straight, almost continuous line. Bryll had a cigarette in her right
hand, burning slowly. She was holding it above Trisha's thigh and waiting for
Ralph's command as she was crying in sympathy with the moaning, crying, writhing
agony-filled young girl in front of her. Now, Bryll, Ralph said. Bryll heard
Trisha trying to mewl, trying to beg, trying to cry out in panic at the
anticipation of what was coming; saw Ralph's hands tighten in the girl's hair as
Trisha automatically reflexively attempted to pull her head away; saw Trisha's
body tighten and begin to tremble. But Bryll must not disobey. Her hand moved
down. Slowly this time, Ralph said, grinning, holding Trisha's hair, and Bryll
made contact with the shaking brown flesh and slowly, slowly, twistingly,
agonizingly, pressed the cigarette into it, ground it in, mashed it in, turning
it, grinding it out, grinding it to extinction in that soft tender thigh, as
Trisha went wild, twisting and squirming and arching and bucking hopelessly,
helplessly, writhing and spasming in pain, and now screaming, screaming, again
screaming, around Ralph's cock, screaming muffled by that big cock all the way
inside her twisting mouth but loud and fierce and terrible. Bryll was crying.
Yes, Ralph said. Yes, darling, yes, that hurts, doesn't it, Trisha? Hmmmmm? It
hurts so bad, it makes you want to be a good girl from now on, doesn't it,
Trisha? It makes you want to do what we tell you from now on. I certainly hope
it does that, Trisha. Bryll? Ralph said. And Bryll hastily, hearing the note of
warning in his voice, got out another cigarette and put it in her mouth and lit
it up. Always be ready. At the striking of the match Trisha gave a stifled cry,
still half-screaming, still moaning and sobbing, and Ralph said suck me,
darling, and let go of Trisha's hair, and Trisha did, crying, moaning, her mouth
tight around him, her head bobbing vigorously. Good girl, Ralph said. You're
learning. Sweet-mouth nigger gal. I'll have Bryll whip you tonight. And Bryll
was still crying.
10
But it was not Bryll whipping Trisha that night. Bryll's arm was not strong
enough to suit Ralph, and so he hung Bryll up by her hair to watch Trisha's
whipping at the much more powerful hands of Bruno Montera. It was difficult for
Bryll to concentrate on Trisha's pain through the almost unsupportable fact of
her own desperate agony. Ralph said he couldn't wait to see if Bryll's hair was
ripped right out of her scalp, and Bryll thought that was just what was about to
happen every moment. Hanging with her hands bound behind her, her feet unbound
but off the floor, swaying slightly in the air, scalp on fire, Bryll could do
nothing but try to stay as still as possible, in spite of the unbearable pain
and horror, hang as still as she could, dangling by her hair, moaning and
whimpering uncontrollably, but trying hard not to scream, as even that might set
her body moving, which might rip her scalp from her skull. Trisha, stark naked
now, hung by her wrists, also swinging, but moving considerably more under the
steady bite of
the whip that Bruno was using on her. Her sensuous chocolate-brown body was
pulled taut, her skin silky and tight over her curves and hollows. Her round
young breasts thrust out, the position of her arms raising them so that their
whole surface was deliciously and vulnerably exposed. But for now Bruno was
working on her back. That sinuous body twisted and squirmed, arching, bucking,
kicking, flailing frantically, as Trisha screamed out her agony. Bruno swung his
arm steadily. Swish....CRACK! the whip went, singing through the air and landing
with vicious power on the suffering flesh. Swish.....CRACK! Trisha screamed and
plunged, screamed and tried to beg, screamed and went almost out of her mind, as
Ralph watched, laughing. Swiiiishhhhh....CRRRRAAAACCKKK!! All right, Ralph said
over Trisha's gasping groaning sobs and Bryll's moaning whimpers. Start on her
front now. Trisha screamed loudly. Ralph grinned. No, Trisha? You don't want
that, you stupid little nigger gal? That's what you are, isn't it, Trish baby? A
little
nigger gal. Isn't it? Say it, Trish. Tell me what you are. Ohhh god...Trisha
gasped weakly. Bruno, Ralph said. Bruno moved around Trisha and raised his arm.
Trisha said: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEASE PLEEEEEAAAAASE JESUS GOD NOOOOOO.... Ralph
grinned. SWIIIIISSSHHHHH....CRRRRaaaaaaaccccckkkkk!!! Across the tender helpless
bottom curves of Trisha's breasts. Howling, plunging, creaking of rope, wild
frantic kicking of legs, animal whinnying, bloody wrists, babbling bubbling
choking incoherent pleas for mercy... Again, Ralph said. Harder. GAAAAAAA....
SWIIISHHHHHH......CRRRRAAAACCCCKKKKKKK!!!!! Right across Trisha's hard quivery
pink nipples. And Bryll almost forgot her own pain in the spectacle of Trisha
going crazy, her shrieks nearly bursting Bryll's eardrums. And now
swish....crack! again, and a long wait for Trisha to settle down, Trisha finally
swinging slightly, turning back and forth, sagging, groaning, her body a
straight line of exhaustion and agony. Say it, Trish, Ralph said. Tell us all
what you are. Go on. A mumble from Trisha. A
sob. We can't hear you, Ralph said. Bruno. A moan of animal terror.
Noooo...I...I'm...I'm a nigger gal... Again, Ralph said. Louder. I...I'm a
nigger gal. A nigger slave, Ralph said. A--a nigger slave, Trisha sobbed. A
filthy crawling cock-sucking nigger slave gal, Ralph said. I--please--- Bruno,
Ralph said. NOOO! Bruno swung. Swish....crack! Wait. Horror. Chaos. Wait.
I--I--I'm a...a filthy...crawling...cock-sucking...nigger...slave.... That's
right, Ralph said. And I'm going to fuck the shit out of you, you sweet-mouth
hurting little nigger. I'm going to fuck you while you hang there, and if you
don't give me a damn good fuck I'll have Bruno whip your back while I'm doing
it, just to put some life into you. And he did, and Trisha, to avoid more of the
whip, curled her legs around his body and crushed herself against him and
fucked him back as hard as she could, screaming out at his command how she was a
filthy nigger slave gal... And
Bruno, having nothing to do, moved behind Bryll and pulled up her legs and
brutally, forcibly, mercilessly fucked her in the ass, ramming his cock up her
anus, pulling at her thighs and fucking away at her as she still hung by her
hair, his hands reaching around to her breasts and clamping them tight, tight,
squeezing them and holding on to them as his hips moved rhythmically, all of it
making Bryll nearly lose consciousness, but not quite, not quite, pain, agony,
torment, horror, anguish, insupportable torture ripping, ripping through her
scalp, her breasts, her anus, and her entire body and mind and soul, making her
howl as loudly as Trisha was still howling, until two laughing men came into two
helplessly writhing bodies, and two girls were finally cut down to crawl across
the floor and forced to make reluctant, exhausted, agony-filled love to each
other until the watching, grinning men got hard again....
11
This girl wants to suck your cock, Ralph said. Dryfus blinked. What? I said
this girl wants to suck your cock, Ralph said. Is that so hard to understand?
Dryfus was looking at Trisha, who was crying. I don't think she does, Dryfus
said. Trisha, Ralph said, tell him. I-- Trisha said. I...I want to...suck your
cock. Crying. What is this? Dryfus said. Don't you like her? Ralph said. Shit--I
mean, Christ...I mean... Don't you think this girl is good-looking? Ralph said.
God, yes, Dryfus said. Even though she is a nigger, Ralph said. I don't care
about that, Dryfus said. You should though, Ralph said. You can't go around not
caring about people being niggers. Niggers are shit. Isn't that right, Trisha?
Yes, Trisha said. Tell us, Ralph
said. Niggers are shit, Trisha said, crying. I am shit. Go on, Ralph said. I am
a cocksucking crawling filthy nigger slut whore cunt bitch slave, Trisha said,
crying. What is this, Dryfus said. Do you want to hit her? Ralph said. Will that
make you hot to have her suck your cock? Slap her across the face, hard as you
can? Backwards and forwards? Again and again? Until she is screaming? Will that
turn you on, Dryfus? Or would you rather strip her, or have her strip for you,
and hang her up by her wrists and whip her and put out your cigarettes on her
nipples? And watch her going crazy and twisting and squrming and kicking and
bucking and thrashing and writhing in pain and agony, and listen to her
screaming and howling and yelling and shrieking and
begging and pleading and moaning and groaning and crying and sobbing and
whimpering and whinnying and mewling and gasping and babbling in agony and
horror? Is that what will turn you on, Dryfus? Then can she suck your cock for
you? Or what. A black girl sucking my cock, Dryfus said. A black girl on her
knees with her mouth around my dick. Hey, black girl, Dryfus said. And now he
slapped her across the face, as hard as he could. Hey black cunt girl, you want
to suck my cock, huh? Trisha said, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. I do. Yes. Please.
Please. On your knees, black girl, Dryfus said. On your knees, nigger, Ralph
said. Show us your tits, Trisha nigger gal. Trisha sobbing gasping moaning
shaking took off her blouse. She had no bra. Dryfus
slapped her breasts hard. Back and forth. Trisha screamed. Dryfus took out
his cock. Okay, black girl, okay, but you better do it good, and I mean good,
and I want you to suck it slowly, very slowly, lovingly, using your tongue and
your lips and your throat and your tits too, and he slapped her breasts again
back and forth. Now. And Trisha sobbing and gasping and whimpering took his cock
in her mouth and slowly slowly slowly did what he wanted and Dryfus was moaning
and grinning and twisting and saying Shit shit shit this black bitch is such a
good cocksucker, that mouth is just fabulous, yes bitch that tongue that's it
that's it take all of it god slowly what a mouth what a girl. Ralph said, she
can do it for hours,
because if I start getting angry I will hang her up by her hair and whip her
bloody. I love this bitch, Dryfus said, I love this black bitch, I want to buy
her and use her fucking mouth forever. You want to buy this nigger?
Ralph said. How much, Dryfus said. No! Trisha said, crying. And Ralph hung her
up by her hair and whipped her for an hour straight, until she was begging
Dryfus to buy her. How much? Dryfus said. Six million dollars, Ralph said. I
can't afford that, Dryfus said. Okay, Ralph said, how about fifty cents? Sold,
Dryfus said. And Trisha was crying and sobbing and sucking his cock. Slowly.
Lovingly. Deliciously. Fantastically. Moaning and whimpering and mewling with
agony and horror and sucking him slowly on and on and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on and on and on.............
