The Rape of a Frat Sweetie
by Willailla
(Story suggested by Ray, a reader)
.
Bill Klugman tapped the brown, manila folder on his mahogany desk with a
gold letter opener.
Tap . . . tap . . . tap . . . . Almost like the sound of slow dripping
water in the climate-controlled penthouse office with lime-green walls full of
leather-bound law books and broad floor-to-ceiling windows giving a postage
stamp view of a fifty acre park ninety stories below.
The point made tiny indents on the smooth surface. After a moment he laid
the opener down on the polished surface of the desk, a self-satisfied smile on
his chiseled, handsome face and a look of cold intensity in the steely, blue
eyes. The smile was faintly cruel, leering.
He raised his hand and drew the palm back over his slick, brown hair,
prematurely graying at the temples; then the hand moved down to a gray silk tie,
matching the Armani suit, the long; delicate fingers faintly played with the
knot, then dropped back to the folder.
A neatly manicured fingertip flipped the cover over.
Inside were a dozen 8 X 10 glossy photographs of an attractive, teenage
girl. She was naked. Her hazel eyes stared at the camera filled with terror;
her full red lips were parted as if to scream or plead for mercy. The bared
teeth were smooth and milk-white. The tongue was a frosted pink.
Klugman stared hungrily at the photographs, flipping through them slowly .
. . remembering. He had taken them himself years ago at the Alpha-Omega
Fraternity House with a Cannon single-lens reflex. The girl's name was Dori
Baxter; she was one of those girls with an overpowering sex appeal resulting
from a sweet, innocent, girl-next-door look. That special kind of look that
made the male animal want to debase and abuse her.
He felt his dick stiffening in his slacks forming a huge bulge.
~~
He recalled that night; it had been a Friday -- party time, one of an
endless series of parties. He had been working on his fourth Bud when he
noticed her standing alone in the crowded, high-ceilinged living room of the
frat house. She was on tip toes craning her neck and glancing about as if
searching for someone. She had on a skimpy halter-top and faded hip-hugger
jeans with strategically cut-out places on the butt and thighs. She was tall,
her hair fixed up on her head, and, even without the high-heeled mules, he
figured her to be a good 5 feet 8 inches in bare feet.
He made his way around couples dancing to some Bee Gees shit, maneuvering
his way among the crowd until he was next to her. Purple in the subdued track
lighting, marijuana smoke drifted heavily through the dense air. He moved
closer until he was almost touching her. He could feel the heat of her young
body radiate through his T-shirt; or at least, he sensed he could. There was a
faint smell of lilac about her mixed up with the cloying smells of grass,
sweating bodies, stale beer, puke and wine coolers.
"Hi, I'm Bill. You looking for someone?"
She dropped from her tip toes and glanced up at him, distracted, a faint
worried look on her face.
"I can't find my date; I think he may have had too much to drink," she said
with a little annoyance.
"What's his name?" Klugman asked.
"Ray Holland."
"Ol' 27, the runnin' back?"
She nodded. Klugman noticed a faint spread of freckles on her nose.
"Yeah, he's been known to tip a few," Klugman grinned. "I wouldn't worry
though, he'll probably show up crashing on one of the sofas upstairs or down in
the basement."
He brushed at an errant wisp of hair curled over her ear, to see what she
would do, allowing his fingertips to caress the soft skin beneath.
She shivered slightly, but pretended not to notice the intimacy.
"He'd better," she drew a breath audibly and released it through clenched
teeth. "He's got the keys to my car." She held her arms straight down, her
hands clenched against her thighs, a pout on her pretty face, and gave a
dramatic little shudder to express, not so much her anger, but her cuteness.
Klugman observed her breasts swell up against the thin cotton of her halter
revealing the imprint of her nipples. He lowered his head and scratched behind
his ear, staring at the dark shadow haunting her navel.
When he looked up he saw Duane, one of the brothers, nodding at him from
the basement door in the hallway, then at the girl. He set his beer on a
sideboard and gripped her arm at the elbow.
"Why don't we take a look downstairs?" he coaxed. "I'll bet we'll find ol'
Ray boy passed out on a couch; we'll get your keys. How's that sound?" He gave
her his best boy scout smile.
She hesitated, a little doubtful, maybe suspicious, as she stared toward
the darken doorway to the basement. An instinct, like that of a gazelle sensing
the lion approaching, was skirting the fringe of her consciousness. All women
are born with an innate awareness toward males sensing that underneath their
civilized demeanor they are debased, wanton fiends who only want to fuck them .
. . if not something worse. But she was feeling groggy, even though she'd only
had one beer. And her normally good, common sense was clouded somewhat.
Before she knew it, Klugman was leading her down stone steps and into a
dusty, filthy basement that looked more like a medieval dungeon. Against a wall
was an old frayed couch, upon which three men sat; two of them were heavily
muscled blacks, the other a fat Mexican with a Fu Manchu. In one corner sat a
double bed with only a stained, torn mattress on a set of rusty, broken springs.
A dim bulb, hanging from a frayed cord, cast a faint, yellow glow from the
center of the cobweb-strung ceiling. Shadows hovered in the corners and ate at
pocks in the stone walls. The cracked, concrete floor was littered with crushed
beer cans, cigarette butts, porno magazines and used rubbers still bloated with
their obscene product. Posters of nude women, bound and raped, were taped to
the walls.
Klugman recalled the excitement he had felt when he saw the terror build in
her eyes as she realized she had been lured into a trap. She turned and
stumbled awkwardly, trying to escape back up the stairs, but it was too late.
Klugman blocked the way. Above him Duane's footsteps came tramping down the
steps. She staggered back from him with a dazed expression and raised her hand
feebly to her forehead.
"I dropped a roofie in her beer when she wasn't looking," Duane said as he
came down next to Klugman. "She won't give us any fucking trouble."
Klugman moved past her toward a steel gym locker in the corner. She was
leaning against the wall for support.
"Strip her!" Klugman ordered as he opened the door.
Duane shoved her up against the wall and slapped her hands away as she
tried to defend herself.
Duane grinned, pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You
bitches always struggle in the beginning, but in the end you always wind up on
your hands and knees begging for it."
He ripped her flimsy top off and tossed it to the floor.
"Aw, baby, you got some nice tits." He tweaked the pink nipples, then,
reaching down, popped open her hip huggers. "Fight me, bitch, and I'll kick the
shit out of you."
"She ain't gonna be fightin yuh," one of the blacks said. His name was
Mungo. The other black was Crow. Both were members of the Black Mambas' outlaw
biker gang and served as enforcers for Alpha~Omega against rival fraternities.
The third man, Jorge, was an illegal with heavy connections in Mexico and ran
the campus drug trade. His fingers were studded with gold rings.
Mungo sported a thick Afro; Crow was shaved bald; both men had the rock-hard
physiques of wrestlers; their black T-shirts clung to their bodies like second
skins.
"Yeah," Crow added, "she knows better."
"She better," Jorge grinned, licking at his mustache. "Or we teach the
gringa a lesson."
When Dori was naked, Duane flung her over into the laps of the three men.
Klugman stepped away from the locker holding a camera.
Dori's eyes widened in horror. "No, don't; please don't."
'Sorry, baby, but this is the only way we have of guaranteeing that you'll
keep your fucking slut mouth shut after we get through with you -- Hold her,
guys!"
He focused in on her, relishing the look of terror in her eyes and the
trembling of her lips. When he had taken a roll, he put the camera back in the
locker.
Duane, who had already taken off his clothes, dragged her over to the bed
by her hair and tossed her on it, making the springs grind out a squeaking
protest. Dust sprinkled down from underneath to the grimy floor.
Mungo, Crow and Jorge quickly stripped.
"Maybe we ought to tie her up," Mungo said.
"Later," Klugman replied, "when we bring out the toys. Besides if she
fights that'll make it better."
She writhed on the bed, trembling with fear when she saw the huge size of
their cocks.
Mungo climbed onto the bed between her legs and slapped her hard when she
tried to roll away from him. "Yeah, it's big, baby," he grinned, wagging his
pink-headed cock up and down, but once you white hos get a taste of big, black
cock you never be happy with anything else."
"And yous can scream all yous want, white girl 'cause nobody's gonna hear
yous down here," Crow said, standing by the bed watching; his huge cock stood
straight out swinging ponderously from side to side as if it were weighted with
lead.
Standing next to Crow, Jorge milked his thick, brown cock back and forth,
the uncircumcised head extending far beyond the tight curve of his fat belly.
His cold, black-olive eyes hungrily devoured the pretty gringa as she writhed
naked beneath the huge black man.
A thick thread of pre-cum dripped from Mungo's throbbing cock hole onto her
smooth, white belly. Her hazel-tinted eyes grew wide as a gooey puddle filled
her navel and spilled over running in rivulets down into her thick, bushy cunt
hairs.
Klugman and Duane climbed onto the side of the bed nearest the wall. Jorge
got into the bed above her head while Mungo and Crow took the other side.
"We'll all cum on her, first," Klugman said, stroking his cucumber-sized
dick up against his belly.
"Then, we make the gringa bitch swallow it," Jorge laughed, his fat, hairy
belly vibrating.
'Then, we'll fill her cunt full of it," Mungo grinned, a gold tooth
shinning.
All of them were whipping their dicks into a frenzy; Mungo was the first to
dump his thick load. Globs of viscous goo splattered against her grimacing
face. She tried to turn away, but Jorge held her steadfastly. Cum clung to her
hair, her forehead and cheeks dripped with it. Her lips were coated, her
clenched eyelids inundated. Then they all began to cum, coating her firm young
body with their vile male fluid. Her pink nippled tits grew slick; her firm,
smooth belly ran with streams of gray gunk. Her cunt hairs were sopping and
thighs were dripping.
Mungo spaded up a handful of cum off her belly and pressed his hand against
her trembling lips.
"Swallow it, bitch!"
"Please!" she begged, wiping cum from her eyes. "No."
The blow from Jorge was sudden and forceful.
W-H-A-C-K !
Her head jolted violently to the side.
"You drink our cum gringa slut or I, Jorge, will twist your fucking nipples
off."
W-H-A-C-K ! W-H-A-C-K ! W-H-A-C-K !
"No! Please, no! I'll do what you want! Please don't hurt me!"
Slowly, her lips parted as Mungo forced his cum-filled hand against her
mouth.
Her pink tongue darted out and began lapping up the cum like a dog. Her
throat moved up and down as she tried to swallow; she gagged, but Mungo covered
her mouth with his hand and pinched off her nose; the others held her down as
she struggled; then realizing her struggles were futile she swallowed their
thick, milky gunk.
Handful after handful after handful until it was all gone into her tummy.
"Now we fuck the bitch," Klugman said. "We'll fill her fucking belly from
the other end."
This comment caused raucous laughter from her abductors. Then for awhile
they beat her naked body with their fists and slapped and bit her flesh just
because they liked the sounds of her screaming.
But before they could fuck her there was the clamor of heavy footsteps
coming down the steps.
All Klugman remembered seeing was Ray Holland at the forefront of half a
dozen humongous football players.
Then fists were flying and somebody used his head for a drop kick.
When he came to, he was lying naked and alone in a pool of blood.
~~
Klugman closed the folder and pushed his Moroccan-leather swivel chair back
slightly. A cruel smile formed on his lips as he picked up his gold,
monogrammed cell phone and punched out a number. His manicured, lacquered nails
tapped idly on top of the folder.
"Jorge, amigo, como estas; How's Acapulco this time of year? Bueno,
bueno. Listen, Jorge, remember that tall gringa bitch that got our asses
stomped at Alpha~Omega? Yeah, well, I figure it's pay back time, amigo, no?
Right. Well, I just got word from a woman, named Lilith, who dated Ray Holland.
Seems our bitch, Dori, took Ray away from her and married him. And she's
really pissed. She heard what happened to us and figured I'd want some pay
back. Dori's high school class is having a reunion in her home town in the old,
abandoned school building where they graduated. It's being reopened just for
the class reunion. Yeah, way I figure it the bitch owes us some fucking. Get
hold of the old gang and we'll meet . . . ."
Klugman went on to give him the details then hung up.
He got up and went into a glassed-in living room and poured himself a tall
Scotch whisky and, lighting a cigarette, wandered over to the patio balcony.
Rain was falling from the violet-tinged clouds; silver needles that splattered
rhythmically on the Spanish tiles.
After awhile he strolled into his bedroom and open the sliding doors to his
walk-in closet. He pressed a hidden button to the side and a far wall slid back
silently revealing a room full of torture devices. Smiling, he picked up a
gleaming metal object with a body shaped like a pear, a handle at one end with a
round knob. Klugman stroked the device lovingly. It was one of his favorite
medieval torture devices. All of them were genuine artifacts from a bygone age.
The red rust stains here and there were blood.
'My Pear, my Pear," Klugman purred lovingly as he turned the knob slowly,
watching the body open like a huge lobster claw.
~~
Ray Holland lay naked on the king-sized bed pulling his pud. He had a
massive erection. The slightest touch sent tingling sensations racing through
his hard-muscled body. He eased off for a moment; he didn't want to explode --
not yet.
He had the spy cam on in the bathroom where his wife Dori was taking a
shower. A buddy who was handy with electronic shit had installed the micro
camera in the vent opposite the shower stall.
Hungrily he watched as she lathered her firm body; her tits jingling
provocatively as she scrubbed them with a washcloth. She had her hair fixed up
in a loose tangle. Beads of moisture hung from errant strands. Her full, pouty
lips were parted slightly and there was an abstract look in her eyes that made
him think she was sexually excited. But he couldn't tell for sure on the black
and white screen; her cheeks always became flushed and her eyes would glitter
when she was; her thighs would tremble when she was totally hot. He thought he
could detect a darkening of her cheeks, but that might just be from the steam
heat rising off the water.
But, God! she looked so fucking sexy. And the knowledge that he was spying
on her without her having a clue was making him horny as hell. He fantasized
being a masked rapist, breaking into the shower stall and taking her. What
would she do? Would she struggle and scream and beat her small delicate hands
against his hairy chest. Her cunt hairs would be slick and soapy; how easily
his thick cock would slide up into her tight hole. He would force himself all
the way in. Deep. She would gasp, gasp at the hardness of his swollen cock;
her warm, soft belly breathing in and out against his rock hardness. He would
bite her nipples, bruise her tits with his sucking tongue and mouth. He would
make her whimper with need. And then when he was through with her, he would
wipe his dick in her hair and leave her groveling on her hands and knees; her
wet hair covering her face like a mop.
Ray began stroking his cock again; he could hear her soft, feminine voice
humming a tune. Then she was singing something by Madonna. It sounded like
'Hanky Panky'.
Ray felt his dick quiver as he recalled reading a news account of a man who
had hired four men to rape his wife and video tape it. He had thought about it
a lot; what a turn on that would be: to watch four brutes take his sweet,
innocent wife and use her like a slut-whore; making her perform all those
obscene acts he had dreams about. Then do things to her with toys, crude
objects. Forcing her to take . . . . He pictured a man's hand -- a greasy,
grimy hand; perhaps that of some mechanic -- moving toward her cunt between her
naked thighs; the hand forming into a huge fist as it touched her cunt lips.
Another pair of grimy hands holding her down. She screams and struggles, but it
does no good; they are too strong for her; she is naked; in a filthy garage
somewhere. Her screams echo off the walls and closed service doors to be
smothered by a rack of used tires. Another man, rotten-toothed, bare-chested,
in filthy jeans, his dick sticking out from his unzipped pants, brings in a
huge, hound on a rusty chain.
"Hee haw, this is what you classy lookin' city bitches get when you can't
pay for gettin' your tire fixed. Rover ain't had a woman for quite a spell.
You'll like it, lady --"
Suddenly the phone next to the bed rang breaking off Ray's fantasy.
It was a woman; he recognized the sugary southern drawl.
Lilith.
"Hello, Ray, darling; hope I'm not interrupting something," she said in a
voice dripping with a lewd prescience as if somehow she could see him lying
there naked on the bed with his cock straining for release.
She gave a throaty, seductive chuckle that seemed to bespeak an awareness
of his indecent thoughts.
He felt an old, buried dread rising up in him once more. She had a way of
intimidating him with her shrewdness and her overt sexuality. She was evil, but
she aroused in him something wild and uncontrollable -- disturbed him, in a way
that was exciting no matter how much he tried to fight it.
She was a beauty, resembling Elvira, the host of late-night horror shows.
The same long mane of dark hair; the full ripe tits; the tight, narrow waist;
the long, shapely legs that never quit.
Ray swallowed hard as he recalled how she had looked naked; dozens of
images came back to him of their fucking. God! she was so fine! No woman
should have a body like that; what man could resist? Ray felt the old longing
rise back up in his loins -- while shame and betrayal tormented him as he
thought of Dori. He loved Dori, but he was powerless against Lilith; like a
small boy in the presence of his overpowering governess or a leaf drifting in a
strong current.
He suddenly became aware that she had been speaking; he tried to focus in
on what she was saying while fighting an urge to grab his cock and squeeze the
cum out of it. On the screen he could see Dori scrubbing in the shower; for a
moment he saw himself with both women.
"You know, Ray, I'll never let you go; you know that, don't you? You know
as well as I that she can never give you what I can. It can be like old times,
Ray. You and me, together again. Naked, hot; you know I'm right. There's
nothing I wouldn't do for you. I'll be your sex slave, like before -- only more
intense this time. Anything you want, I'll do it. Put me on the street and
I'll whore for you; whip me; make me fuck other men in front of you; anything!
I'll do it. Chain me up; lock me in a closet; make me lick your cum up off the
floor. Anything, baby, please!"
The word was out of his mouth before he realized he had said it, a reflex --
"No!"
Much as he was tempted, he loved Dori too much. Besides, down deep he knew
Lilith was not trustworthy; she might mean what she says now, but later?
God, why couldn't he have both?
There was a long silence; he could hear her breathing punctuated with a
faint hissing sound as if she were forcing air between clenched teeth.
"All right, Ray; have it your way; I wanted to give you one last chance,
but I see that was pointless. You've had your chance, asshole, and you've blown
it. You're going to regret this moment you son of a bitch!"
There was the sound of a phone crashing down on its cradle, then a
disconnect sound.
Before he could reflect on what she had said, Ray glanced at the screen and
saw Dori drying herself off. Quickly, he jumped out of bed and clicked off the
hidden switch to the spy cam. And as he turned around, she came into the room,
naked, rubbing a cream lotion around in the palms of her hands and spreading it
up her arms. She glanced at his erection with a faint smile.
Grinning, he placed his hands on her hips, backing her against the wall.
"Honey, we don't have time for that now; you'll get me all sweaty," she
said as she tried -- not too forcefully -- to fend off his kisses to her neck.
"I have to run over to the high school for a final check to be sure everything's
ready for the reunion tomorrow night."
He ignored her and buried his nose between her tits breathing in deeply the
fresh smell of her, then flicked his tongue over the nipples causing them to
swell as hard as pebbles.
She gasped softly as he placed his hands behind her thighs and lifted her
up onto his erection. She kissed around his ear murmuring faint, smothered
protests between gasps of pleasure as she felt the thickness of his cock slide
into her cunt.
Inside a black sedan parked by the curb a hundred feet down the street, a
speaker was relaying every sound of their lovemaking.
~~
She put on a short, gray skirt, high-heel pumps and a pearl colored blouse
and kissed Ray goodbye.
"I'll be back in a couple of hours, then we can go get something to eat,
maybe take in a movie."
As she pulled out of the driveway onto the street she was unaware of the
black sedan that followed her.
~~
Kullhorn High was an sprawling, two story brick that had been built back in
the nineteenth century; it had served generations of the county's students
faithfully every since then, but the time had finally come when its Victorian
architecture was no longer considered appropriate for the modern image the town
council of Kullhorn wanted to present to the world. And, so, a new high school
had been built in a more upscale section of town, and the doors of old Kullhorn
-- with its twenty-foot high ceilings and wood floors -- had been padlocked.
The year Dori's class had graduated was the last year the school remained
open. Everyone she had contacted in her senior class wanted to hold their class
reunion in the old building for sentimental reasons. Therefore, it had been
reopened one last time for this special occasion. Dori had been put in charge
of cleaning up and decorating the gym with the help of students from the new
high school. Everything was ready: a coat-check room had been set up; there
were plates, napkins and candles on trestle tables waiting for the caterers who
would arrived tomorrow; the band stand had been set up along with the audio and
lighting equipment, the banners strung up -- etc. So everything was done, she
was sure, but she wanted to make one final check to be absolutely certain.
A sprinkle of rain started falling as she started up the limestone steps
leading to the gym. She used the key Sid Green, head of the town council, had
given her to open the padlock on the door. She left it opened for Zeke Baron,
the handyman, who was supposed to meet her there in case there was something
more that needed to be done, but she didn't see him around anywhere.
Probably drunk, she was thinking. She had smelled alcohol on his breath
several times before.
She sighed nervously, waiting in the spooky, dimly lighted gym. The
electricity was on but the fuse box switch was off and she didn't want to go up
by herself into the darkened backstage area where it was to switch it on.
The gym was silent as a tomb. Ray had offered to come with her. Now she
regretted not letting him. She walked across the floor making a quick
inventory; everything seemed in place. The sound of her high heels echoed off
the century old walls.
She took her cell phone out of her purse and called their number. But
there was no answer.
Where could he be?
She glanced at her watch. Half an hour had past. Everything seemed in
order; there was nothing she would need Zeke Baron for. She started for the
door -- then stopped short.
There was a lewd sniggering behind her. Turning she saw the handyman,
cigarette stuck in the corner of his mouth, leaning in the doorway connecting
the gym with the main hall.
He tossed the cigarette away with an idle flick, then straightened loosely
and wobbled toward her holding a whiskey bottle in his hand. His blue work
shirt was untucked and unbuttoned and his fat, hairy belly stuck out obscenely
hiding his belt buckle.
"Well, well, well, if'n it ain't Missus 'high and mighty' Holland come tuh
see if this ol' nigger is workin' his ol' black ass off."
"Zeke, I didn't know you were about." She could smell the whiskey as he
drew close, and it was apparent from his loose-limbed gait that he was soused.
"I was just making a last minute check to see that everything was in
order."
"See if'n . . . everthang is in order?" He glanced around slowly, rictus
faced, as if befuddled, cocking his head to one side then the other, glancing at
her out of the corner of his eye. He speech was lispy from missing several
front teeth; the rest were brown and decayed looking.
He reached out and encircled her wrist with a callused hand.
Youse sur'n a purtee woman Missus Holland; how's 'bout yu'n an' this here
nigger gettin' tit on?"
Saying this, he reached down and unzipped his fly and pulled out a
semi-erect, swollen cock.
The sight of it made her gasp; it was huge; and when it became hard she
knew it would be monstrous.
She pulled back, breaking his grip and turned toward the exit door that she
had come in by, but, before she could evade him, he grabbed her blouse by the
back of the collar yanking it down. The force of his grip spun her around on
her heels and she staggered awkwardly toward the center of the gym floor. He
grabbed again, pulling the blouse off. There was the sound of buttons
scattering over the hardwood floor.
She kicked off her heels and lurched for the door to the main hall, and as
she struggled to open it, she felt his coarse hand grasp her bra and pop the
hook; he spun her around, pulling it all the way off.
Instinctively, she raised her hands to cover her tits, and, as she did so,
he hooked his fingers in the elastic waist of her skirt. With one quick jerk it
fell to her ankles.
All she had on now was a pair of white, thong-backed, bikini panties.
He stared hungrily at her almost nude body, licking his purple lips with a
swollen, gray tongue. Then, cursing, he slapped her hard, drawing blood.
She twisted away from him, but not quickly enough to keep him from tearing
away her last vestige of covering.
Naked, she staggered into the main hall.
The light was dimmer here. The long windowless corridor stretched
seemingly to infinity to her left; up to the old principal's office; to her
right was the boy's gym and the stairway to the basement. She remembered that
basement; it was like a dungeon; she couldn't go there. Her heart pounded in
her chest as she felt his arms encircle her waist from behind. His whiskey
breath nauseated her almost causing her to gag; she could feel his cock, now
fully hard, rub up against her ass. His wet tongue coated her ear as he
whispered crudely how he was going to fuck her.
"Old black peter up your tight, white ass. Old black peter up whitey's
tight ass. We's got plans for you, bitch!"
We? What did he mean by 'we'? Were there more. Was she going to be gang
raped? Again? The horror of that night in Alpha~Omega came back to her. Oh,
God! She couldn't go through that again. She would rather be dead. Anything
but that. She recalled the shame and humiliation she had felt, and, then there
was something else she had felt, something she didn't want to recall, something
she had suppressed all these years. Had she been . . . aroused? God, it was
unthinkable. How could a crude, bestial gang rape arouse anything but disgust
in a normal, descent woman? And yet . . . .
She twisted frantically in the steel-like grip of the handyman, but she was
like a mouse caught in a trap.
And, then, she heard the tip-tap of heels on the worn, wooden floor. The
sound of a woman's spiked heels.
She turned her head toward the sound --
and saw Lilith Gorey, her old nemesis, dressed in a tight, black, leather
jumpsuit, her smooth, black hair down to her waist. In high school, the
pernicious vamp had been the leader of a band of mob-girls who bullied and
tormented the ordinary girl students. And Dori had been the one they taunted
the most. But in the end Dori had had her revenge when she stole Ray away from
her.
From the glaring look she saw in the dark beauty's eyes, Dori knew she had
not forgotten.
"Good work, Zeke; you've earned your bottle of whiskey." Lilith said, with
a toss of her dark mane.
"Can I fuck'er, too, Missus Gorey?"
Lilith glanced at his cock, sticking rock hard out of his unzipped pants.
"Don't worry none about that, Zeke; we're all going to fuck the bitch."
Dori's eyes widened with terror. 'we're all going to fuck the bitch.'
There were others. Oh, God, no!
She twisted her naked body in the grip of the foul smelling handyman,
trying to break free, but he was too strong. Her bare feet left scrape marks on
the grimy floor.
Wildly she kicked out at Lilith who caught her by the ankle.
"Oh, your feet are getting so dirty, dear," she taunted, looking at the
blackened sole of Dori's foot. She glanced at Zeke with a sadistic smirk.
"Grab her other ankle."
Zeke did so, and at the same time Lilith jerked on the ankle causing Dori
to fall back onto the floor.
"Let's drag her to the basement; we'll clean the floor with her while we're
at it." She laughed harshly causing Zeke to chuckle.
As they dragged her through the hall they flipped her over so that she was
face down. She could feel the gritty soot that covered the floor scouring her
tender nipples. She raised up on her hands and tried to crawl away, but they
merely laughed harder and jerked her back down.
After a minute or two they came to a stop and there was a heavy grating
sound as they opened the metal door to the basement. Dori could feel cooler,
damp air rush up over her nakedness from below and the hard coldness of worn
concrete steps as they began to drag her down into the darkness.
At the bottom of the steps they flipped her over again and dragged her
through a series of interconnected, dimly lit rooms forming one long corridor;
past dark, side doorways and empty wire mess storage cages piled high with the
junk of a hundred years. Overhead, fixed to the twenty-foot high ceiling were
dozens of plaster-covered steam pipes draped with lacings of dull gray spider
webs.
Then, finally they brought her to a large room dully lit with one bare bulb
hanging from a length of cord. Dori heard other voices and the shuffling of
feet as she was lifted up. In the dim light she could make out shadowy figures
standing back against the wall, just out of the circle of light cast on the
floor. There was just enough, though, for her to tell that they were women.
She heard faint sniggers.
Without having to be told she knew that they were the girls who had
tormented her in high school. The mob-girls with Lilith as their leader. A
chill of terror raced through her naked body. These were girls who had
delighted in cruelty merely for cruelty's sake. And now here she was completely
at their mercy.
Thick, rusty chains hung from the ceiling with medieval-looking iron cuffs
fixed to the ends. Zeke and Lilith shoved her over to them and snapped the
cuffs shut around her wrists. There was a cranking, rattling sound and Dori
felt her arms being drawn up as the chain rose toward the ceiling. When her
toes were just barely touching the floor, the upward motion ceased.
Turning to Zeke, Lilith ordered him back up top to keep a lookout; he gave
her a sour look, but the promise of another pint of whiskey sent him ambling
back down the dark passageway.
Then from the shadows five girls stepped out. Dori's heart sank in her
chest. Razor-winged butterflies of fear fluttered in her belly. She knew them
all; they were older now, but their faces had not changed that much; their looks
still contained that old, smug arrogance of rich girls who feared nothing
because they knew mommy and daddy could buy them out of any trouble they got
into. There was an open cruelty of expression fixed on their faces and
reflected in their eyes. The look of predators confronting their prey.
Two of the girls were dressed conservatively in plain ankle-length dresses.
Dori remembered them well. They were known as the twisted sisters because both
always wore their hair in a long thick braid down their backs. They rarely
spoke and stayed to themselves. They belonged to some weird religious cult.
Dori recalled someone telling her that it was a cult that believed in nudity and
flagellation. She had also heard rumors that the sisters had been into
torturing animals.
Of the other three girls, was Stacy, a big blonde, who enjoyed shoving
other girls around in the hallways, etc. It was said that she and the other two
girls, Patty and Irene, both redheads, had cornered a girl in the shower and
beat her senseless with a mop handle, leaving her naked and bleeding on the
soapy floor, just because she had dated a boy one of them had been interested
in. The whole thing was hushed up because the girls' parents were rich and
influential.
Dori was beginning to feel the strain of being on tip toe while the iron
cuffs bit deeply into the tender flesh of her wrists. Her face twisted into a
grimace, and she bit into her lower lip from the twinge she was starting to feel
in muscles unaccustomed to such extreme stretching.
Her naked body was dusted and smeared with the grime of the floor. Her
nipples burned as if they had been scrapped with sandpaper from the dragging she
had endured on her belly.
Stacy came up to her with a brutal look on her face. Lilith stood off to
one side a sick smile on her face and a bullwhip in her hand that she had picked
up from somewhere.
Stacy gave her naked body the once over, then flicked a nipple lightly
gazing into her eyes, then grasped Dori by her hair and pulled her face up
close.
"Remember when I had you shoved up against your locker in gym class and
Coach Kramer came by and I had to let you go? I bet you thought I was going to
lock you up inside it, huh?" She twisted Dori's head to the side. "Didn't you,
bitch?"
Dori recalled the event. She had just come out of the shower dripping wet
when Stacy, naked, too, had followed her to her locker and shoved her half way
inside. Dozens of girls had gathered around to watch the excitement. If Coach
Kramer hadn't walked into the locker room she didn't know what would have
happened. She could still vividly feel the sheer panic of that moment.
"Well, bitch I was gonna use this on you."
She held her hand up in front of Dori's face and slowly made a fist.
"Let's do her," gasped Patty; next to her Irene nodded eagerly.
The twisted sisters moved up closer, their dark eyes boring into hers,
faint smirks forming on their pale lips. Still off to the side, Lilith twisted
the handle of the bullwhip in her hands, her eyelids half closed as she swayed
undulately.
Dori screamed as Patty and Irene grabbed her ankles raising up her legs and
spreading them with Stacy between them.
"No, please, no!" Dori pleaded frantically as Stacy placed her fist against
her cunt.
"You're gonna love it, isn't she girls?" Stacy grinned.
"She'll love it," the twisted sisters chorused.
"She'd better," Lilith said, crackling the leather of the bullwhip, "or
I'll use this on her firm, shapely asscheeks."
"Do her! Do her!" the twisted sisters exclaimed impatiently, rubbing their
crotches.
"She's tight," Stacy said as she applied pressure with her fist. Then she
pressed harder.
Dori's face screwed into lines and creases of agony as she felt the big
blonde's fist begin sliding into her spreading cunt lips. She tried to pull
back, but the two redheads, Patty and Irene, held her legs taut to the max.
Dori glanced around at their sneering faces looking for mercy, but she saw none
there -- only a cruel, sadistic indifference. They were like beautiful
mannequins -- devil dolls -- brought to life merely to torment her.
Stacy grunted softly, puffing out her cheeks, straining to force her fist
into Dori's pussy.
Dori felt pain like she had never felt before; it was as if a Louisville
Slugger was being shoved up her cunt.
"Olwoooooonooooaaaahhpleeeeeezzzzuuhhh!"
Her pleas and screams went unheeded, though. Only laughter and girlish
giggles answered her.
She could feel her cunt sphincters protesting painfully as they were being
spread beyond what was natural. The big woman's fist moved farther inside her
until it was halfway in. Then with another surge of effort it popped in. The
whole head of the fist was filling her. Dori could see a mound forming up from
her belly as the fist slid deeper into her. In a moment, Stacy had her forearm
halfway up her cunt. She held it there for a moment, then began working it back
and forth slowly like a huge cock.
While she worked it back and forth, she lowered her mouth to Dori's clit
and began licking and sucking on it with loud slurpy sounds.
"Oh, God, nnnnoooo! Please, not that!"
"I don't think she likes being lezzed," Patty grinned.
"She'll get used to it,' Irene added. "And I'll bet she'll learn to like
it, too."
"We'll make her our sex slave," Lilith said, popping the whip against her
leather covered thigh. "We'll make her do everything."
Dori's face burned crimson with shame and agony. She could feel the
forearm moving, moving, moving, making her feel stirrings she didn't want to
feel. The pain began to subside and was slowly replaced with a sultry warmth
that caused tingling sensation to race up and down her spine. She felt her
asscheeks begin to tighten and relax, involuntarily, in rhythm with the in and
out motion of the blonde's arm.
Stacy mouth was warm and wet on her clit; her darting tongue sent tiny,
electric shivers of ecstasy fusing through her body.
Then she felt Stacy place the index finger of her free hand against her
tight, little asshole and insert it; Dori could feel the finger and the forearm
nudging each other, separated only by the thin wall of muscle between her cunt
tract and her ass tract.
The finger and the forearm worked in and out of her; Dori felt her hips
begin to rise up in compliance with the thrust.
"She's getting hot," Stacy said. "I feel her pussy getting moist."
Patty leaned over and nibbled at Dori's ear.
"Is 'wittle' Dori starting to like it?" she taunted.
Irene ran the smooth palm of her free hand over Dori's belly making warm,
circular motions around her navel.
Despite the humiliation she was feeling, Dori found herself relishing the
touch of the three women. Her body was being inundated with wild, confusing
impulses. Part of her wanted to scream; wanted the abuse and degradation to
stop; but another part of her found herself longing for this mistreatment. Such
a perverted longing she had never felt before . . . except once . . . when she
had been assaulted by those bastards in the frat house.
She should recall their brutal use of her naked, defenseless body with
disgust and revulsion, but every time she had recalled the event she had found
herself becoming aroused. She would shiver with ecstasy as she tried to imagine
what those heartless youths would have done to her if Ray and his football
buddies hadn't rescued her. And as she tried to imagine her hand would slip
down to her pussy and she would find her cunt lips swollen and wide and sopping
wet. Without conscious guidance her other hand would seek out her firm, taut
tits and her fingers would squeeze the red, swollen nipples causing delicious
sensations to course through her body.
Was she one of those sick, abnormal, vile, disgusting women who delighted
in pain and degradation?
"Noooooo!"
Dori felt herself cuming as mouths sucked and licked on her clit and tits;
as forearm and finger penetrated her cunt and ass. She found herself savoring
the tightening of her cuntal muscles around the big blonde's forearm; she
strained to force more of it into her.
"She wants more," Lilith jeered.
"Then let's give it to her," the twisted sisters blurted out in unison.
"Mark her naked body with the whip; cut her."
"Stand back," Lilith commanded.
Stacy withdrew her hand from Dori's cunt which made a sucking sound.
The redheads, Patty and Irene, dropped her legs leaving Dori hanging
loosely, her painted toenails scrapping trails in the dust of the concrete
floor. Her body was trembling from the abuse it had received; her tits
quivered provocatively; cunt juice glistened on the inside of her firm thighs.
Dori watched with bated breath as Lilith stepped before her; the woman's
spike heels gave off a hard, metallic click on the basement floor. Fear spread
like a wildfire through her body, dreading the unknown that was to come and, at
the same time, anticipating it.
No longer clutching the whip in her hand, Lilith held up a wide, leather
dog collar with ugly looking steel spikes studding it. A gleaming, chromium
chain dangled to the floor.
"From now on, slave, this will be the only clothes you'll ever wear."
Saying this she placed the collar around Dori's slender neck and snapped it
shut. The chain clinked down over her breasts, belly and thighs like a cold,
metal snake.
Lilith squeezed her cheeks between her thumb and fingers causing her mouth
to pucker out.
"From now on you'll address me as 'mistress'; if you forget to do so you'll
taste my whip on your tender ass and tits; is that understood?"
"Dori nodded numbly."
"You'll do whatever I command; is that understood?"
Again the naked woman hanging from the rusty chains nodded miserably.
"Good, bitch."
Lilith stepped back and picked her whip up off the floor, then she turned
toward the twisted sisters who had taken off their long dresses and were now
completely naked, the long, single braid of each hanging down their arched backs
to their ass cheeks; their pussies were shaved, their breasts full and firm.
"Unchain her."
The sisters moved up on either side of Dori and waited for Stacy to release
the catch on the hand crank. When it was flipped the chain clattered through
the pulley allowing Dori to stand flatfooted on the floor once more and lower
her arms.
The sisters each grasped an arm and unscrewed the lock keys on the
medieval-like cuffs.
Dori rubbed at the bruised rings left around her wrists with numb, reddened
hands that tingled painfully as blood began to pour back into them.
"Get on your hands and knees, slave," Lilith ordered.
"Yes, mistress."
Now, look at this," Lilith cooed disingenuously. "My leathers are all
dirty from the dust and grime in this filthy old basement. I wonder, wonder,
how I can get them cleaned? Do you have any ideas?"
Dori gave her an innocent, confused look.
The women sniggered.
One of the twisted sister gave her bare butt a shove with the base of her
foot.
"Better come up with one, bitch, unless you want a beating."
"Lick my leathers, you stupid bitch," Lilith said, thrusting her right boot
forward. "And you'd better get it clean, too."
Dori hesitated, but she knew she didn't have any choice. Slowly she
crawled toward the dark-haired beauty and lowered her face toward the dusty
boot.
"Oh, wait a minute," Lilith scoffed. "I almost forgot."
She pulled a glass vial from her pants pocket with an evil, mocking smile.
"All our husbands helped fill this just for you."
She unscrewed the top and poured out a gray, viscous liquid over both her
boots.
"Lick it up; clean'em up."
Dori didn't need to ask what the liquid mess was. She knew, and she almost
gagged at the thought of what she must do. But she was powerless to resist.
Tentatively she touched her tongue to the cum stained toe and began
licking. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what she was being
forced to do.
She felt someone's mouth engulf her cunt and a hot, moist tongue slithered
into her.
Hands began tweaking her nipples as the twisted sisters kneeled down on
either side of her.
A finger twiddled into her asshole.
Her tongue moved up the smooth, black leather of the boot removing the cum
and grime. She forced herself to swallow the horrid mess, choking it down; it
was all she could do to keep from vomiting.
The twisted sisters pulled at her nipples, stretching them painfully, then
pricking the tender swell of her breasts with their long fingernails; they
squealed with delight when they caused her nude body to recoil with each painful
prick.
The warm, moist, insistent tongue slithered deeper into her twat tormenting
her, yet, at the same time, causing jarring ripples of pleasure to course
through her abused flesh.
Her tongue lapped more insistently at the cum soaked boot cleaning it with
her spittle from top to bottom, swallowing every last drop of cum. Then the
other boot, dripping with more vile tasting cum was shoved against her soft
lips.
Hands with sharp-nailed fingers spread her asscheeks allowing the finger to
frig her butt more easily. The tongue withdrew from her wet cunt, and Dori
could feel the tip lash rapidly at her swollen clit sending little daggers of
fire racing through her body, then plunge swiftly back into her cunt working in
and out at a frantic pace.
Dori began moving her ass back to meet the synchronized thrusts of finger
and tongue; delicious sensations were overwhelming her; sensations she was
powerless to resist.
Shame and humiliation warred within her, but a growing perverse need
overcame her resistance and made her relish her cruel debasement at the hands of
her female tormentors.
She laved her tongue over Lilith's boot relishing now the vile-tasting cum
she had rejected only moments before; now she sucked it down greedily, filling
her mouth with it.
At the same time, the twisted sisters licked their hot, moist tongues over
her naked flanks.
Suddenly, Lilith placed the sole of her boot on Dori's shoulder and shoved
her viciously onto the concrete floor.
Dori writhed about clutching at her breasts and crotch; she had been so
close to cuming; she had to cum; she needed to cum.
She glanced up with hungry, feverish eyes and saw Lilith removing her
leather jumpsuit. Patty and Irene were stripping out of their mini-skirts, too.
The twisted sisters, already naked, stood over her kicking at her breasts
and cunt with their bare feet while tittering in unison.
When the women were all naked they gathered in a circle around her, and
Dori stared up through hazy eyes at their naked bodies feeling a hot need
burning in her flesh. She felt her mouth turn to cotton as butterflies flittered
about in her stomach; she looked with longing upon their full firm breasts
quivering above her; their smooth shapely bodies and the shaved pussies that
revealed all. She felt dizzy and weak, powerless to resist whatever they had in
mind for her.
"I think we ought to teach our slave bitch the joys of sapphism," Lilith
said to the others.
The twisted sisters rubbed their smooth lipped pussies and twittered
musically in unison.
They reached down and forced Dori to her knees.
"Now -- unless you want us to burn your nipples with matches -- you'll lick
each of our cunts until we cum, is that understood?"
"And we may burn her nipples just for the hell of it anyway," Irene added.
"Burn, baby, burn," the twisted sisters sang.
Lilith grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head and pulled her face
against her cunt. With her other hand she tossed the bullwhip to Patty.
"If she doesn't lick enthusiastically enough flick her naked ass with the
tip of that."
Patty shook out the thick coils of the whip and flicked it through the air
making a loud popping sound.
"Your bloody ass is mine, slut," Patty taunted dangling the popper against
Dori's ass.
With her face shoved against Lilith's cunt Dori could feel the bristly
nubs of recently shaved pussy hairs scratching her cheeks. She could also
smell the tangy, musky odor of woman's sex emanating from between the firm
labia.
The leather popper moved against her asscheeks in warning, and she knew she
would have to perform or feel its painful lash on her naked flesh.
A horniness had taken possession of her by now, however, and she found
herself eager to assail Lilith's pussy with her moist tongue.
A shudder shook Lilith's body as Dori pressed her tongue into her pink
slit.
She pulled harder against the back of Dori's head, twisting her hair in her
fingers as she began grinding her hips forward like a belly dancer.
Dori slid her tongue as far as she could into the warmth of the pussy,
tasting the moist, sugary dew of her sex; she sucked the sweet nectar into her
like a hummingbird at a syrupy, meadow flower.
Her whole body was aglow; a tingling of every nerve ending made her flesh
tight and sensitive to every touch.; her breasts swelled, her nipples became so
taut that she found herself longing for a hot, wet mouth to suck on them. Cunt
juice dripped from her pussy.
She felt something building in her that was more powerful than anything she
had ever felt before; she was becoming frantic for release -- feeling that the
top of her head would blow off if she didn't get it.
Suddenly Lilith was rocking against her, moaning loudly, the sound building
to a cry of ecstasy.
'Oh, shit; I'm fucking cumin'. . . cumin'. . . cumin'!"
She fell to her knees, then crumbled back against the basement wall, her
eyes dazed with a satisfied lust. Slowly she stroked her pussy, moaning softly.
But it wasn't over for Dori; it was only beginning.
The twisted sisters threw her onto her back. One of them straddled her
face, forcing her cunt over Dori's mouth. The other got on her knees between
Dori's legs and began licking at the glistening juices between her puffed up
cunt lips.
Patty and Irene each took a tit and began sucking on a nipple.
Dori writhed beneath them delirious with an overwhelming lust. Her whole
body trembled with a need for release.
She savored the sensations of the twisted sister's mouth sucking her clit
making it prickle and burn. She hunched her hips up to meet the woman's mouth,
causing her butt cheeks and thighs to quiver uncontrollably.
The twisted sister riding her all at once began scrunching her cunt
violently onto Dori mouth, then with a loud drawn out sigh she fell off to one
side twisting and turning on the floor.
The twisted sister between Dori's legs jumped on her and forced her tongue
deep into her mouth while rubbing her nipples hard against her nipples and
grinding her shaved pussy against hers.
It was too much!
Dori came, her limbs contorting spastically; overwhelming webs of ecstasy
consumed her: the hot, wet tongue of the twisted sister filling her mouth; her
nipples extended and raw against the other's; her cunt wet with their mixed cunt
juices.
Then it was over.
Hands gripped her wrists and she was dragged through a narrow, dimly
lighted passage with a ceiling full of faded copper and covered pipes.
"We've got a surprise for you, bitch," Lilith said.
They dragged her through a crude break in a limestone wall, then down over
a slope of rubble to an abandoned sub-cellar.
In the center of a huge high-ceilinged room a single spotlight shown down
on a naked man strapped to a wooden post; there was a black hood drawn over his
face.
The women jerked her to her feet when they entered the circle of light.
To her utter horror she saw several naked men step into the light from the
cave-like darkness beyond.
With dismay she realized that she knew them.
The frats who had assaulted her at their frat house. They were older now,
but they hadn't changed so much.
The one with graying temples was the one who had introduced himself as Bill
and had coerced her into going into the basement of the frat house. She had been
drugged or she never would have gone with him.
The tall, slender guy, standing next to him, she remembered had ripped off
her blouse and thrown her on that filthy mattress.
She didn't know his name or the names of the others -- there aren't formal
introductions when a bunch of guys rape you.
She recognized the two burly blacks, too. One had had an afro and a gold
tooth; the afro was gone, but the gold tooth still glittered from his surly,
smirking mouth. The other black was still bald-shaven and the fat Mexican still
wore a shiny array of gold necklaces and rings. She shuddered as she lowered
her eyes to their immense cocks. This time, she knew, there would be no one to
rescue her; she would have to take all of them -- unless . . . unless Ray came
looking for her when she was late getting home. But she held little hope of
that; even if he did finally come it would be too late; her rape at their brutal
hands would be an accomplished fact.
As if reading her mind, Bill gave a mocking laugh.
"If you're thinking ol' Ray is gonna rescue you this time, slut, don't."
Walking over to the naked man strapped to what had once been a support
post, Bill jerked off the hood that covered his head.
"Ray!" Dori cried out.
A ball gag was imbedded in his mouth; he tried to speak, but his words came
out only as guttural, incoherent mumbles. There were red welts covering his
chest, belly and thighs where he had been whipped.
Dori glanced at Lilith who was still holding the bullwhip in her hand. She
had gotten her revenge on Ray for his having dropped her for herself.
Lilith gave her a derisive grin and creaked the snake-like braid
maliciously in her hands.
Laughing, Lilith grabbed the leash loop and jerked Dori to the center of
the circle directly in front of Ray. Behind her Dori could hear the twisted
sisters twittering musically. Patty and Irene slapped her asscheeks crudely.
While Stacy filmed everything with a video camera.
Mungo stepped forward, his huge, stiff cock swinging and bobbing heavily.
"Get on your hands and knees, slave," Lilith ordered.
She took Mungo's cock and shook it playfully at Ray.
"How do you like it, Ray? Does it make you hot thinking about Mungo's huge
cock filling your sweet, little Dori's cunt with his spunk? All of the guys are
gonna pump her full of their hot cum, and there's nothing you can do to stop
them this time." She paused and raised her index finger to her mouth arching
her hand over in a ninety degree angle to her wrist, eyes wide with mock
concern.
"Gee, I hope she's on the pill, Ray, 'cause the guys aren't gonna use
rubbers."
Ray jerked frantically at the straps trapping him to the posts. Muscles
straining, sweat running in rivulets down his muscular chest, he heaved and
heaved and heaved, then his strength depleted, he sagged against the straps,
breathing hot and heavy.
Lilith smirked and gripped his cock, squeezing it gently, rhythmically,
stroking and tugging.
"Who knows, Ray, you may even find you like watching your pretty wife
getting gang fucked; isn't that every husband's greatest fuck fantasy?"
She pursed her lips into a pout.
"But then there might be a down side to all this. Perhaps she'll like it
so much you'll never be able to satisfy her anymore. She'll have to look
elsewhere to get her kicks from other men -- lots of men . . . all at the same
time, yum, yummy yum. Maybe if your lucky she'll take you along so you can
watch her fuck them."
Lilith kept stroking his cock but dropped Mungo's.
Mungo got on his knees behind Dori and placed a hand on her ass; with his
other hand he placed the head of his uncircumcised cock against her tight pussy
hole.
"Fuck her! Fuck her!" urged the twisted sisters.
Ray watched with disbelief as the huge black man's cock slowly disappeared
in his wife's cunt. He wanted to look away; he couldn't bear seeing his
beautiful wife being fucked and degraded by another man -- yet, he couldn't look
away. It was as if his wife's naked body was a magnet; fight it as much as he
might there was an impulse building within him that was exciting. Hadn't he
always wanted this? To see his wife raped by another man? It had always been
just a fantasy, but now . . . now it was real, and he couldn't hide the fact
that he was turned on.
He moaned loudly through his ball gag. A moan of defeat, surrender. His
body was a single pulse beat of hot arousal. Lilith stroked his cock
insistently, forcing it to swell against his will. Soon his cock grew too big
for one hand; Lilith placed both hands around it, squeezing and stroking him
hypnotically.
She dropped to her knees and placed the head of his cock in her mouth
poking the tip of her tongue against his pee hole.
Ray squirmed as the hot, moist pussy-mouth engulfed him. Against his will
his hips hunched the painted lips while his eyes took in the scene of his wife's
white flesh covered by Mungo's burly black body. The man's huge, pink-headed
cock slipped in and out of her with greater and greater intensity.
What was that look on her face?
Her eyes were squeezed shut, her red lips tight. Was she in pain or . . .
was she moving her hips back to meet the man's cruel, pounding thrust?
Was she getting off on it, his sweet, innocent Dori?
Didn't she realize what kind of danger she was in -- that they were in?
Suddenly Mungo jerked spastically, then rammed his body hard up against her
ass; his hands gripping her smooth cheeks fiercely; nails digging into the soft,
firm flesh; his face, raised toward the overhead light, sweaty, frozen into a
grimace.
Ray saw Dori's mouth drop open as if in a sigh of ecstasy; her eyelids were
still shut but no longer squeezed tightly.
Was she cuming?
The other men lined up behind them. After a moment Mungo pulled his wet
cock out of her, gave her asscheek an idle slap then stood up and moved off to
the side to watch the others.
Ray could see his wife's cunt juice gleaming on the semi-erect, ebony
staff.
The fat Mexican took her next; his cock wasn't as long as Mungo's, but it
was thicker.
Dori's eyes shot wide open as he stuck it in her; her fingers clawed at the
filthy, clay floor of the ancient sub-cellar. A grimace formed on her face as
the thick cock moved farther into her. Tiny squealing sounds escaped from deep
in her throat. She tried to wiggle away from him, but the twisted sisters each
placed a bare foot on her shoulder and shoved her back onto the Mexican's cock,
impaling her on it.
"Oo ah, oo ah, oo ah," they chanted in rhythm with the Mexican's cock going
in and out.
His fucking was soon over with a series of quick thrusts, then he went to
stand by Mungo, his yellow cock dripping with her gringa juice.
Duane and Bill decided they would both fuck her at the same time.
"White boys got smaller cocks," Crow teased.
"Gotta make up for the lack somehow," Duane grinned.
Dori was no longer capable of exercising her freewill; her body tingled
with uncontrollable agitation. Each man had made her cum, and she was still
hungry for more. She was like a crazed junkie with a spiraling lust for a
higher and higher doses to feed her intense need.
"Two dicks, two dicks, one bun; tee hee, tee hee, what fun," the twisted
sisters recited in a chipmunk-like falsetto.
Duane lay down on his back, his arching cock like a quarter moon above his
belly. The twisted sisters forced her down onto it until it was all the way
inside. Then Bill roughly shoved her forward onto Duane's bony chest and moving
up against her began inserting his cock in alongside Duane's.
"Two cocks, two cocks, will make you plead; two cocks in cunt will make you
bleed."
The two men alternated their cocks so that as one was going in the other
was coming out. The effect was overpowering keeping her on a constant high that
never let up. She had to come or die from anticipation.
She glanced at her husband and was shocked to see that he was watching her
with unconcealed craving.
She couldn't believe it!
Was he turned on by the sight of men raping her?
Yet wasn't she turned on too?
Were they both sick?
Lilith was on her knees before Ray working her mouth around his rock-hard
cock.
Had he cumed in her mouth as many times as she had cumed?
Her pussy was stretched painfully by the two cocks, but the sharp bursts of
pain, instead of turning her off, acted as a fillip to her burning need.
Soon she felt their hot spurts of cum filling her belly as both humped her
in unison.
Would she get pregnant?
Crow took her last on her hands and knees, filling her wet cunt with his
massive organ. Patty and Irene knelt before her, sticking their tongues in her
mouth and forcing her to drink whiskey from a dust-covered bottle until she was
nauseous and dizzy.
She saw that the twisted sisters were doing the same thing to Ray while
Lilith masturbated him, his cock bigger than Dori could remember it ever being.
Crow gripped her tits and squeezed her tender nipples painfully as he shot
his load of cum in her., but he continued to hold his cock in her cunt as Lilith
came toward them carrying a dog bowl in her hand.
She held the bowl under Dori's nose; the bottom was covered with cum.
"Every time Ray came in my mouth I spit it in this bowl."
She nodded at Crow who pulled his cock out; then Lilith placed the bowl
between Dori's legs and Crow forced her to squat over it. Cum poured from her
pussy filling half the bowl.
Crow took the bowl and pissed in it until it was full.
"Drink it, bitch!"
Dori stared at the brimming bowl with disbelief and revulsion.
"No, never!" she cried, and tried to struggle out of Crow's grasp.
He forced her on her back while Lilith shoved the flexible tube of a funnel
into her mouth and down her throat making her gag in protest. Then to her
horror one of the other women poured the contents of the bowl into the funnel.
The piss-laced cum made a gurgling sound as it flowed down the funnel tube
into her belly.
"OK, bitch," Lilith said. "We've had our fun -- for now, but before we
leave we're gonna give you something to remember us by."
Dazed from the whiskey they had made her drink, Dori swayed from side to
side as she tried to rise to her hands and knees.
The twisted sisters were approaching her carrying something that looked
like a brazier between them. An iron handle stuck out from the rim. Then as
they lowered it in front of her she saw that it was indeed a brazier full of red
hot coals and the glowing end of a branding iron stuck into the center.
She screamed as a dark curtain descended over her consciousness.
.
Someone was nudging her.
It was dark and cold.
There was a faint light flickering somewhere.
Someone was slapping her face and calling her name.
She open her eyes.
Ray -- naked -- was bending over her. A candle was sitting on the floor
next to him.
"They're gone, Dori; we're safe now."
He gripped her shoulders and raised her to a sitting position.
Then she saw he wasn't naked; he was wearing cargo shorts -- what he'd been
wearing when she'd left home. But nothing else.
"Come on," he coaxed. "We've gotta get you outta here."
He helped her to her feet.
"They got me drunk," he said. "I passed out; no telling how long we've
been here. The candle's been burning a long time."
Still woozy from drink, she leaned in to him as they walked down the long,
basement corridor, their bare feet shuffling over the grimy floor.
At the top of the stone steps, in the main hall, her clothes were still
lying on the floor where Zeke had ripped them off her.
As she stooped to pick up her skirt, there was the sound of a door opening
and footsteps.
Looking up she saw Zeke coming out of the boy's locker room, a half-empty
whiskey bottle in one hand and a gun in the other.
"Well, well, looks like I got me a couple of trespassers."
She saw his greedy, half-drunk eyes take in her naked body, and with a
sinking sensation, she realized her ordeal wasn't over.
.
Her hands were already turning red when Zeke finished taping her wrists to
the shower head in the boy's shower -- a long, narrow room, with a concrete
floor and tile walls showing plaster where numerous tiles had fallen away over
the years. The wired, overhead windows on the outside wall, opposite her, were
opaque with a gray layer of dust that had collected over the years and filled
the room with only a dim light.
To her right Ray, naked, was taped in the same fashion to another shower
head. Like her, his mouth had been taped shut.
Zeke had removed his pants, and she could see that his huge cock was
swollen hard in an arch up against his bloated, hairy belly.
He took a swig of whiskey letting a trickle spill down the corner of his
mouth.
He put the bottle down and set the pistol next to it.
"Now, pretty lady, you're gonna get a fuckin'," he grinned with rotten
teeth, fisting his bulging cock.
As he stepped toward her she backed up feeling the cool tiles against the
flesh of her tender ass. Next to her Ray mumbled unintelligibly and struggled
fitfully trying to break his bindings.
Zeke reached over and slapped him hard making his face spin to the side.
Then he slapped Dori back and forth several times.
"Won't do any good to resist folks; you alls my prisoners; I can do
anything I want to you, and nobody's gonna know 'bout it."
Zeke grabbed her pussy hairs and pulled her toward him.
"I like a woman don't shave her cunt; give a man sumpin' tuh hang on."
He put his hands on the back of her thighs and lifted her up so that her
legs were around his waist. The head of his cock was nestled against her pussy
fur for a moment, then, slowly, she felt it sink within her, huge, stretching
her painfully.
"Ah, now, don't that feel like it's in decent?" He laughed raucously.
"You folks know what the definition of 'indecent' is don't cha? If it's in deep
and in tight, it's in decent. Hah har har har!"
Dori felt the muscles of his huge tool flexing and expanding in her tight
pussy. There seemed to be no end to the horrid thing as it snaked up inside
her, the thick bulbous head lodging deep within. Then, with sadistic glee he
ripped it out of her as if he wanted to pull her insides out.
He slapped her hard.
"Fuck me back, bitch, or I'll cut your fuckin' hubby's cock off."
Arching her back, she threw her hips forward impaling herself on the man
tool. She worked her pussy on him, squeezing while sliding up and down on him.
Looking to her side she saw Ray watching the sordid scene with feverish
eyes. Looking farther down she saw his cock jerking and wobbling into a stiff
erection.
Instead of feeling revulsion, however, she was suddenly aware of a growing
excitement within her: her husband liked to watch her fuck other men -- and she
wanted him to watch.
With growing urgency she wrung Zeke's throbbing cock out with her equally
throbbing pussy. It would be the best fucking he'd ever have.
He began quivering like an old stallion unsteady on its feet, licking his
nicotine-stained lip with a whiskey frothed tongue, gasping and moaning as his
head tilted back and faced the ceiling with tightly clenched eyelids and a
trembling, sweaty grimace on his soot-bedraggled face.
"Ah, that's good, missy," he groaned in a hoarse, gravelly voice.
He worked his hips into her feeling the wiry bush of her pussy touch
against his fat belly as he plunged all the way into her.
Dori felt him cuming -- hot spurts and squirts of liquid heat spewing into
her violated hole. She worked her cunt frantically, milking him, draining every
last drop. Hoping that he would be satisfied -- that he would let them go.
To her side Ray's cock was quivering wildly, then began squirting a long,
gray stream across the shower room where it splattered against the wall.
After a moment to gather his wits, Zeke picked up the gun and the bottle
and took a long pull.
"I'll be back," he said, as he staggered out.
But he didn't come back.
.
The class reunion went ahead and was a smashing success. Of course
everyone wondered what had become of Ray and Dori. But, naturally, it never
crossed anyone's mind to look for them in the boy's shower room. And, anyway,
had someone wandered that way they would have found the door locked.
The only key to it was in Zeke's pocket, and he was lying dead at the
bottom of the basement steps where he had slipped and fell bashing his skull in.
Years passed and finally the old school was bull dozed down to make way for
a mall.
Fini
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