The interior of the shack was even more shabby than the outside. Susan tried to hold back for a moment at the doorway, as Duke disappeared inside and lit an old-fashioned kerosene lamp, then returned to pull her in. The interior of the weather beaten shack was even more shabby than the outside and a bit cold.
"Build a fire, Stitch," Duke commanded to the sulking form that was last to enter. "And don't burn the God damn place up."
"I-I-I kin build a-a-as good a f-f-fire as y-y-you can," he stuttered defensively, and then stepped outside again to collect the wood.
"Ya oughta lay off him, Duke," Coke said when Stitch was out of earshot. "He's one o' us, and oughta be treated right."
"He'll be treated right, awright. If he ever pulls a stunt like he did back there in the car, I'll cut his balls off, and he won't have to worry none about it."
"Aw, he wuz just excited, ya know how he gits," Shorty chimed into the argument. "Ya know he ain't got a brain in his head."
"I know he ain't, an' that's why I'm pushin' 'im. He's gotta learn to control hisself, jist like the rest of us," Duke answered tersely. "When he does that, then he can have it. Besides, I got thinking to do. I tole the man I'd be all ready when he sends his contact man up with the plans tomorrow."
"Where was 'e comin' in from?" Shorty asked.
"Detroit, where else? You think them honkies got a goin' over last summer, man, you ain't seen nothin yet. Wait'll ya hear what he got in mind for 'em this time."
"He's gonna lay it to 'em, huh?" Shorty smiled a broad toothy smile, and smacked his hand against his knee. "He shore know how to do it."
"Yeh, but you remember whose boss here. I kin handle Chicago."
"Man, you gotta do what he say or we don't git no more money."
"Aw, he ain't so big. We kin make our own contacts if we gotta. There's plenty o' scratch around jist waitin' to be picked up to back good ole civil rights causes."
He snickered for a moment at his joke, and the others followed suit as Susan listened in confused wonder. The apathy that had lain over her mind since first being abducted into the car by this gang of negroes, was gradually lifting and she found herself becoming more and more perceptive of what was going on around her. She had assumed at first that they were just a wild bunch of criminals, perhaps escapees of the state reformatory, but now it appeared that they were something more sinister. They seemed to be here for a purpose, and it was surely connected with the riots that had started last summer – the ones that everyone was afraid were going to occur again, with school ending in a few weeks.
"What we gonna do with this honky chick, Duke?" Shorty asked. "She could blow the whole thing if she gits loose."
"She ain't gonna git loose, we'll make sure of that, and besides, the big glow ain't for two more days now, an' we'll worry 'bout her when that time comes."
"You ain't gonna kill 'er are ya?" Coke intervened with a worried expression on his face.
Duke looked at him for a short second, and then burst into laughter at his concern.
"Man," he roared, "here you gonna kill a hundred honkies on Friday, and you worryin' about one little ole white gal here. That's crazy, man, crazy."
"Yeh, but it's different," Coke argued back, a hurt expression on his face. "We cain't scream civil rights if they catch us."
"They ain't gonna catch us for nuthin, you hear. We gonna take care 'o her my way. And… meanwhile," he added, "she can watch after us, cain't chya, honey?"
Duke smiled at her and Susan dropped her head back to the floor. She leaned more heavily against the wall where he had left her, and drew her arms around her breasts. They hung loose and partly exposed from a large tear in the upper part of her dress caused by their struggles in the car. Her bra was gone along with her panties, and she felt naked and vulnerable to their stares as they waited for her answer to Shorty's question.
She stood silent and did not speak.
"I asked ya a question, baby," he suddenly spat at her and walked to her side.
Still Susan did not move or make a sound, even though her heart was lodged tightly in her throat in fear.
The loud sound of a hard slap suddenly echoed through the room, as the negro who had just so brutally raped her, swung his arm in a wide arc and brought the palm of his hand down hard across her face.
"Now, you jist answer when I ask ya sumpin', baby, or next time it's gonna be worse."
"W-What do you want from me?" she managed to finally stammer out through the thin stream of tears it brought to her eyes.
"I just asked if you was gonna take care 'o us, and I want the answer loud and clear for the boys."
"Y'Yes," she finally said quietly. She could see the cold cruel glint in his black eyes, and knew that any sigh of resistance right now would only bring further pain and indignities from him. He was the leader of this gang, and could not under any circumstances run the risk of being stood up against in front of them. They worshiped strength and she sensed that if he lost his prestige in this matter with them, that he would lose all. It was again, the old tale of the male lions fighting for leadership of the "pride", and the women that went with it. There was only one law that applied, and that was the law of the jungle, pure and simple.
"That's a good lil' honky chick. We gonna make a good honky outta ya yet, jist to show these boys that the only good honky, ain't a dead one. Ain't that, right."
Duke smiled arrogantly down at her and tweeked her cheek with his thumb and forefinger. Susan nodded her head dejectedly in agreement.
"Awright, Coke, show 'er the kitchen, man. She's gonna have to earn 'er keep here for a few days, in more ways than one. And, make 'er clean it good."
He grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the tall thin negro who had been driving the car, and she let herself be led to the kitchen without a struggle. There was no longer any sense in the hopeless resistance she had put up at first. Her only chance for even staying alive now was to keep close to Duke. She was certain his hard outward approach to her was an act to show the others that he could be cold and cruel, for he seemed to have developed a sense of protectiveness toward her that might keep the others away – for a little while anyway.
The kitchen was a mess and looked like it had not been used for a long time. The sink was filled to the brim with dirty molding dishes and the dusty shelves were almost bare except for an assortment of rusting cans of beans and soup. Coke inspected the door that led out to the back, making certain the padlock attached to it was still secure so there could be no chance for her to escape.
"Now you do what Duke done said to do and don't try nuthin' that might be crazy. He might git mad and you ain't never seen nobody as wild as him when he's mad."
Susan nodded in assent and limply began her task of cleaning up the mess. The odor from the dishes almost made her sick, but under Coke's watchful gaze, she soon had them soaking in hot water that she had heated on an old wood-burning stove. On a command from Duke in the living room, Coke stepped outside and returned a few minutes later carrying a large box of groceries.
"Duke says you're to git us some supper. And, make it quick," he added with an authority of his own.
"W-What can I fix," she asked with a slight tremble in her voice. It was the first time she had spoken to any of them except when she had been forced to. She could hardly bring herself to do it, but knew she must, or risk facing the wrath of Duke again. She dared not alienate him completely or he might be forced to show his control over her by letting the others take advantage of her as he had done. Susan vowed to herself that she would rather die-and would do all in her power to avoid being used in that way again.
"Fry them pork chops," Coke answered her question after a few moments thought. "Duke likes 'em."
Susan bent to her task with as much strength as she could gather after the horrible beating her muscles had taken. She was a bit surprised though, that the soreness between her legs was not more acute, considering the ravishment she had undergone. She had done a lot of horseback riding when her father was alive, and perhaps that had loosened her for the final assault that the idiotic Stitch had subjected her to with his fingers.
This was the first time the thought had come to her mind since they left the car. She had been in a complete state of shock since the negroes had first grabbed her, and now even though her consciousness was beginning to clear, she still could not recall all the bitter details of what had happened or why it had happened. She was certain of one thing. She could never forgive her mother again for as long as she lived, for it was her mother who was responsible for her being here at the mercy of this cruel group of criminals.
Why had they used her like this? Sheer lust couldn't be the answer unless they were absolute animals, and the thought was gradually sinking into her mind that perhaps they were. She had not known many negroes, but those she did know were no different than all of her other friends. Why then, this sudden bitter attack on her body, and the use of the name "honky" as a derogatory word toward her? What were they trying to accomplish by all of this brutality?
"Hey man, where's the food," her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Duke's complaining voice from the living room. "You been out there thirty minutes."
"She's gittin' it. Don't worry none," Coke answered from his chair in the corner where he had been sitting patiently watching Susan at work. Though she hadn't looked at him at all during the entire time she had been working, she knew very well his eyes were glued tightly to her almost entirely visible body beneath the tattered gown she was wearing. It had been ripped and torn in so many places that there was very little material left to cover her completely nude body hiding beneath. While she had been getting the pork chops ready, she concentrated on keeping her arm pinned down to the side of her left breast, so it wouldn't fall out in front of Coke. She knew this would be fatal. They were already all worked up so bad by watching Duke rape her in the back seat of the car, that it wouldn't take much to set them off again.
"You 'bout ready, baby," Coke asked impatiently after watching her turning the pork chops, trying to get them to cook faster.
"Yes, they're ready now," she said limply, after a last look into the frying pan.
"Okay, baby. Where ya want it, Duke?" he yelled loudly through the doorway.
"Here," he answered with a laugh.
"You hear 'im, baby. Go to it, and bring all the forks an' knives."
"All right, but it's going to take a minute," she answered coldly. Not only had their leader ravished her young helpless body until she could hardly walk, but now they were turning her into their servant to wait on them too.
"Here, I'll take 'em," Coke said impatiently and grabbed the stack of dishes she had collected from her hands. "You jist git the food in heah, right now," he commanded.
Susan hurried as fast as she could in the dim light of the kerosene lamp, carrying a plate of pork chops in one hand and a bowl of beans in the other. Coke had placed the plates in their places around the table, and she went from one to the other dishing out their portions. It was the first time she had really had an opportunity to see all of them clearly; now, she could feel a cold harsh chill running quickly up the length of her spine as she studied the four negroes who were holding her prisoner.
Shorty, as his name implied, was slight of height. But not really quite as much as he should have been to justify the nickname. In fact, he was just about Susan's height, five feet five. What he lacked in height, he certainly made up for in build. He was broad and stocky, and as she studied him, she remembered the way he had walked from the car to the cabin. It had reminded her dimly of an ape with his long swinging arms that were out of proportion to the rest of his body. It almost appeared as though he could touch the ground without bending over much farther than his natural stance. His face was thick and his broad flat nose, of the central African type negro, set deeply between his cheeks.
Coke, who had been her guardian in the kitchen, was tall and thin with a slight pencil-type mustache that was currently so popular with negro singers. His eyes stayed blatantly on her as she moved around the table serving the others. There was an innate cold cruelty in them that she couldn't really explain, but she knew he had held it in check out of fear of Duke's rebuttal and she found herself again grateful again for his presence, fearing what would happen to her if he were not there.
Duke was a strong, well-built negro who carried himself with an arrogant confidence befitting his position as gang chief. He had long sensuous hands that she could still remember coursing over her body as he had ravished her in the car. His nails were long and sharp and she still winced slightly each time she moved from the marks he had made on her body while he was stroking her. He, too, had a certain cold aloofness about him that repulsed and frightened her. It was almost as though he possessed nothing what-so-ever in the way of human compassion. There was no doubt of the tremendous strength he possessed; she could still feel the welts from his finger on her hips and upper thighs where he had grasped her when he was pulling himself into her.
Stitch was one of the most repulsive persons she had ever seen. His build was much like Shorty, except that it was completely out of proportion. He had a large oversized head that seemed as though it belonged on a body many times the size of the one he possessed. When he walked, the enlarged head tilted to one side as though he could not support it and the slight limp he had added to the off-balance physical effect. His eyes were small and sunk deep in his head with the typical idiot half-smile always playing across his mouth, even when he was angry or hurt.
She feared him more than all the rest of them. At least the others looked half human and might have some reasoning power left in them, but not Stitch. There would be no reasoning or mercy if she ever came under his power. It was unpredictable what he might do if his natural instincts were unleashed from the accepted human restrictions now placed on him.
She finished filling the plates and stood back a few feet from the table with the dishes still in her hand, watching them eat silently with their thoughts. And, there could be no doubt what these thoughts were about. She could detect each of them in turn staring at her out of the corners of their eyes with hungry animalistic gazes that could mean only one thing.
She kept her eyes on Duke as she cowered back from the table. The firelight now burned brightly, elongating weird silhouettes of his profile across the cabin floor. Out of grim necessity, she had accepted him as protector, and for the first time in her young life began to understand more behind the reasoning of the survival of the human race. A few short hours ago, she had been a sheltered and innocent girl, who believed in all the things she had learned about the inviolability of the virgin female form, and how it would be and should be protected at all costs. Now, she shared a sympathy with all abducted females since time began. The tender young vestal virgins of the Roman Empire who were carried off by the Huns from the north; the pioneer women who were carried off to become the wives of savage Indians; and, the ravaged women of Berlin after World War II. They all, from want of food or protection from greater indignities, had accepted protectors that they would have otherwise been repulsed by. It all became ultimately a matter of what one had to choose from, and not what one wanted to choose. The weakest had to choose the strongest of their group for mere survival sake, providing of course, the strongest wanted them. Duke wanted her now and she had no choice if she were to escape the others. She had to give herself to him or suffer a far worse fate at the hands of the likes of Shorty and Stitch.
It was also apparent that Duke could feel the power he now possessed over the young, naive white girl as he ate with a quiet confidence, never once raising his eyes to look at her like the others. He knew she was there and knew she was his, by virtue of his leadership of the gang. His hold on her was his strength and the protection he offered her.
"Git me some whiskey outta the box," he spoke for the first time since beginning to eat, "and bring four glasses, no, bring five. One for you, too, honky baby."
Susan went to the kitchen without hesitation and brought the bottle back with the glasses and watched silently by his side as he poured a drink out for all of them. He poured hers a little more full than the others and pushed it toward her on the table.
"Drink it down without stopping," he commanded, reveling in demonstrating his power over her to the others.
Susan raised the glass and took a small sip, feeling the hot liquid burning all the way down to her stomach. It made her feel slightly sick until she saw Duke's eyes glued to her out of the corner of her eye, and she tilted the glass up again to take a greater swallow. She almost coughed it up, but with a supreme effort, managed to hold it down. A faint light-headedness swirled through her as she raised the glass again and turned it bottom-up, finishing the warm fluid to the last drop.
"S-S-She d-done it," Stitch said with a gleeful ring to his voice.
"I told her to, didn't I," Duke said proudly. "She's gonna be my chick and I don't wanna see none of you bastards layin' a hand on 'er without my okay."
"Aw com'on now, Duke," Shorty protested. "We gotta right too, we all took her together."
"I got the right, remember the club rules," Duke cut him off. "The Chief Leopard gits first choice on all the spoils o' war."
"She ain't no spoil o' war," Coke remonstrated hesitantly. "We got 'er off the street."
"Man, that's the honky war. You heard what cats like Stokley Carmichael and Rap Brown say; we're at war with them honkies. Why you think we're heah, boy?"
"She ain't no part o' it, Duke," Shorty objected again. Susan could see that they were pushing him for all it was worth, and clenched tightly to the empty glass in her hand as the tension between them grew. She knew that the result of this little play of words could decide her fate for the night and she prayed with all her heart that Duke would be strong enough to hold them off.
"She's a honky, ain't she," Duke answered, "'lemmne show ya what I mean, man."
He rose from his chair and grabbed Susan by the arm, pushing her roughly over to the fireplace. Though it appeared to the others that he was hurting her, she could feel a certain restraint in his movement that almost bordered on gentleness. She understood that he had to be firm in front of the others to maintain his status, and she let herself be carried limply along with him across the room.
"Now you cats take a look and see if you don't think she's a honky."
With that he reached to the back of Susan's tattered gown and ripped it down the hack in one mighty jerk. The flimsy material split without effort and floated uselessly to the floor.
She gasped when she realized what he had done and tried desperately to recover the last remnants of clothing she had left to cover her nude body.
"Leave it there," she heard his voice command from above her. "They ain't never seen a white ass before, baby, an' I jist wanna give 'em a little look at what they been missin'."
Susan hesitated, still crouched on the floor where she kneeled in the vain attempt to cover herself. Her arms were folded tightly over her large firm breasts that swayed down voluptuously from her bending torso, naked and unprotected. Her legs were clamped tightly together in an attempt to hide the blonde silken treasure lying between her thighs. She began to tremble from the sudden obscene exposure of her body to the others in the room.
"Get up, baby," Duke commanded tersely. "Let 'em see what all of a white little honky ass looks like."
Susan froze when she looked across the room and saw the others begin to rise from their chairs and walk with bulging eyes toward her, crouching naked and vulnerable before the fireplace. She looked up at Duke with a pleading cowed look in her eyes, but his gaze remained cold and totally without sympathy. This was his moment to shine in the eyes of his underlings, and he was playing it for all it was worth. He was demonstrating, with a calculated purpose, the power he held over her, and all like her. He was cruelly sure of himself, and Susan felt her body rising involuntarily to a standing position before his hard unyielding stare, unable to resist his command.
The others crowded around her, gaping with unadulterated admiration and desire at the full proud young body being exhibited before them.
"Jesus Christ," Shorty breathed. "Look at them titties. Man, I'd like to git my mouth on them."
Stitch stood immobile, a crazy lustful grin on his face. It was all he could do to keep from reaching forward again and fondle the softness of her with his harsh callused hands as he had done before in the car, but one look at Duke cut him short. He had felt his wrath earlier, and that was enough to keep him restrained for a while.
"You jist ain't got no right to hold us off 'er," Coke gasped as his eyes followed the full, ripe contours of her curved hips to the soft silken down at the juncture of her hips and thighs. "We're all in this 'un together, man."
Duke stood proud and defiant beside her, reveling in the control he held over she and the others. It was the supreme moment of leadership for him, being able to play on and control their passions this way. He was confident and sure of his power, and as he stood there, almost smirking at them, a thoughtful contemptuous smile slowly crossed his lips.
"Hey, you cats really want a chance to get at 'er?"
"Man, that's what we been talkin' about all night long," Shorty answered quickly, his eyes locked greedily on Susan's naked body.
"How much bread ya got between ya?" Duke asked as his eyes narrowed slyly.
"We ain't gonna buy 'er. That ain't right," Coke protested.
"Who said, buy, man. I'm talkin' bout a little poker."
"Y-Y-You always w-w-win," Stitch stuttered out his objection.
"Aw, man, come on, I jist been lucky. You might win it all tonight. Take a look at them fine white titties. How'd ya like to get your hands on 'em?"
Susan shrank back as she heard Duke's words. He was proposing to offer her as prize in a game of chance. He just couldn't mean it! He wasn't going to use her as his stakes in a poker game! She had heard of wives being lost in card games of the old west and on the Mississippi river boats, but it just couldn't happen now. Not with these savage negroes as players.
"P-Please don't," she stammered, speaking her first pleading words to Duke since he had assaulted her in the car. She had never thought she could bring herself to beg like this in such a degrading position, but she had no choice. It was total subjugation to him alone or be used as a helpless plaything by all the others.
"Don't you worry, none, baby. They cain't play them boards like I can. We just gonna git us a little pile heah while we got the chance."
"I-I can't do it," she whimpered, her face pressed tight into her hands.
"You gonna do it, baby, if I tell ya to, and, I'm tellin' ya to. So jist shutup and let me concentrate on the game."
"H-H-How much d-do I n-n-need?" Stitch muttered. Visions of the poor helpless girl rolling and tossing beneath his driving cock fiickered through his mind like a pornographic film.
"Five dollars each. Anybody I lose my five dollars to, gits her for one time, and I git my five dollahs back."
"I-I-I only got t-t-two," Stitch whimpered piteously. "G-G-Gemme some c-credit, D-D-Duke, p-please."
"You others got it?" he directed at Shorty and Coke.
"Yeh," they both murmured unhappily in unison.
"We git to do anything we want to with 'er, right," Shorty clarified as Duke led them back to the table.
"Right," Duke laughed confidently. "But ya gotta win 'er first."
"An everybody gets to watch," Coke added, his excitement building at the prospects of getting the young soft white girl beneath him.
"Yeh, heh, you cats can do it all," Duke agreed with a laugh, "and, Stitch, I'm gonna let ya in on it too."
He watched Stitch's face light up for a moment and then added with a teasing glint in his eye, "But all ya git if ya win, is to eat 'er."
"T-T-That ain't f-f-fair," he stuttered back, all enthusiasm dying from his eyes. "B-B-But I'll d-d-do it."
"If you ever git that big ole thing o' yours inside 'er she'd be ruined for life. Man, nobody in town 'ud be able to touch the sides ag'in."
There was no further argument and Duke made Susan clean the table without letting her put her dress back on. It was obvious he was enjoying the covetous glances the others were casting at her naked white body, and wanted to extend his domination over them as far as he could under the opportune circumstances. Susan was forced to stand by Duke and keep the glasses full while the game got under way. She watched each hand with growing consternation and could feel her heart beating faster each time she saw one of the others win.
Duke had made her take another glass of whiskey, and she found herself sipping more heavily from it as the time passed with agonizing slowness. The light headedness she felt from the half-glass Duke had made her drink a short while ago came back again with this additional glass of warm liquid. She needed the courage it gave her to keep from fainting, as she watched her fate being decided by the four negroes sitting at the table in heavy concentration. She could feel her legs wobbling slightly as she lifted the glass more and more frequently to her lips. Duke's luck was becoming worse with each passing hand.
Shorty's smile was broadening as the game continued on. He was gradually whittling more and more of the leader's money away in spite of the fact that he was breaking even, or winning slightly from the other two.
After about a half an hour of intense play, there was a loud moan from Stitch's side of the table. He was out. He rose, throwing his cards with a disappointed flourish to the table, and slumped dejectedly in a chair in the comer of the room.
Susan's heart rose at this turn of events. At least, she wouldn't be subjected to ravishment by the half-wit tonight. It was him she feared the most, for there was no way of telling what he might do to her if he got the chance to be alone with her.
Her joy was short-lived, however. A few minutes later, the ape-like Shorty won over half the money on the table with one hand. She filled her glass again from the bottle in the kitchen and poured another round for the others. She purposely filled Shorty's and Coke's glasses with more bourbon than Duke's. She hoped it might dull their minds to the game and give Duke some advantage, but it was quickly dashed when he raised the glass to his lips and downed it with one quick swallow. He pushed his glass toward her without taking his eyes from his cards, and ordered her to fill it again. She did his bidding, detecting a more and more helpless anger rising in his voice with each passing moment of the game.
Susan tilted her own glass down and took a long swallow. She had to steady herself against the back of Duke's chair to keep from reeling backwards from the table. Her nakedness was almost forgotten now with the greater impact of the drinks she had taken, and she found herself concentrating deeper and deeper on the small pile of money still remaining in front of Duke.
Her eyes were slightly out of focus now and she had difficulty in keeping them riveted to one spot. The table was moving slightly in front of her, revolving slowly around and around, and she had to grasp the back of the chair tighter just to stay on her feet. The alcohol helped, but deep in her mind nothing but total unconsciousness could blot out the horrible truth of her position here. She was nothing but a pawn now in the hands of a wild vicious gang of negroes who would stop at nothing to vent their crazed hatred of whites against her because she was helpless to defend herself.
"Okay, Duke, I raised ya the limit," she suddenly heard Shorty say through her alcoholic daze.
"Ya gotta be kiddin', sittin' over there with a pair of kings. Man, I got that beat a mile. I raise ya ag'in. All I got, mat is if you got the guts, man."
"Yeh, I got the guts, man," Shorty answered with a slight sneer this time. His confidence had grown with each passing hand played, and he could sense victory this time over his leader. His eyes wandered past his cards to Susan's warm naked body leaning against Duke's chair and a small expectant smile played across his lips. His tongue circled them wetly for a moment, and then he continued, "Come on and put 'em up, Duke, baby."
Susan looked down at Duke and for the first time saw the arrogant confidence fading from his face. He hesitated for a moment, and then threw his hand out on the table.
"Lemme see ya beat that ya bastard, you was jist bluffin'. Come on," Duke challenged.
Susan saw the three queens fall to the table from Duke's hand and then a strange expectant glint flickered through Shorty's eyes. A broad grin broke across his thick rubbery lips and his teeth sparkled like the ivory keyboard of a piano in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. His eyes locked on Susan's trembling body as he slowly lowered his hand to the table.
"Read 'em an' weep, baby," he gloated at the vanquished Duke. Three solid kings lay face up next to Duke's queens.
Shorty sat quiet for a moment, as though still unable to believe his luck, and then all of a sudden jumped to his feet.
"Whooooeeeee," he shouted and clapped his hands at the same time. "Some lil honky's gonna get fucked tonight like she ain't nevah been fucked. An' you cats git to watch it all. You can too, man," he taunted down at the dejected Duke.
"Man, it don't bother me none," he lied. "She's jist another honky chick that we gonna git plenty of when we take over. Ya jist better take it light with 'er though, I'm warnin' ya."
"Man, that weren't part o' the deal. I gits all I wants and how I wants it, right, Coke?" he directed at the other jubilant negro.
"That's right, baby. You done won it fair and square, and he ain't got no say. Ya kin even give me some, man, the way I understood the deal."
Duke started to rise from the chair, a menacing look crossed his face, but changed his mind and slumped back down into the chair again. He knew when he had pushed them too far, and if he backed out now, he knew they wouldn't take it. He'd have a revolt on his hands that even he couldn't control.
"Hey theah, honey, how 'bout gittin' me an' the boys a little whiskey, huh," Shorty enunciated his words to stress the harsh, northern negro accent. "You mine for tonight, baby, and don't ya forget it."
Susan hesitated for a moment, still holding tight to the back of Duke's chair where she had frozen when the three kings had been thrown on the table, but moved to follow the ape-ish negro's command when Duke nudged her away with his elbow. He did not look up at her but kept his eyes glued tightly to the center of the table. She went quickly to the kitchen, aware of the three sets of eyes following the slight unintentional sway of her naked buttocks as she walked across the floor. Quivering chills of fear scurried over the paleness of her skin when she heard Shorty's last words just as she passed through the door.
"Crazy, man, crazy. Look at that lil' white ass shake and jiggle. I'm gonna have me a ball punchin' into that."
She poured herself a glass almost full with the thick brown whiskey and drank it down in huge gulps without stopping, until the glass was empty. Her mind ran to all sorts of ways she might escape the cruel ravishment she knew she was going to be subjected to by the squatty negro, but none were plausible. Her situation was hopeless. As her mind raced in desperation, she thought of death, but there was no way to kill herself, even if she could have built up the courage to do so. She gagged on the strong liquid, and thought for a moment she was going to get sick, but even that would not come. Nothing could help her. No one even realized that she was gone from her house, and from the last bitter memory of the scene in her mother's bedroom, she probably wouldn't even be missed until sometime late tomorrow. Even then, they wouldn't have the vaguest idea where to begin looking.
She filled the glass again and drank as much of it in one swallow as she could get down. She gagged, but forced the rest of it down against the rebellion of her stomach. The dulling effect slowly began to take over her body, and she could feel her sense of touch deadening in the tips of her fingers as she clung to the glass. Her eyes rolled slightly in her head and she slammed the glass down on the counter, almost breaking it. As her head reeled, she had to place both hands on the sink to keep from falling. She wished she could get sick. She wished anything would happen that might make her less desirable to them, anything that might save her from this awful fate. It had been bad enough in the car with Duke, but now the shock and surprise that had prevented her from really feeling or understanding the full impact of what she was going through had faded. She was conscious now and fully aware of the things they were going to do to her and the indignities they would force her to accept from them.
As she reached for the glass to pour another drink, she was stopped short.
"What yo' doin' here, chicken," Shorty's rough coarse voice boomed across the narrow distance from the door. "Don't yo' go gettin' outta yo' mind now. I don't won't no dead piece o' white meat under me when I'm gettin' my kicks. D'ya heah me?"
Susan nodded her head dumbly, the reeling in her body intensifying with each second that passed. She had to have another drink though; it was beginning to work. The alcohol was beginning to drive the consciousness from her, helping to blot out the cruel reality that she could not face. She wanted to be dead and unfeeling, and this was the closest thing she could come to it now.
"Now, you git that whiskey like I done told ya and git yo lil' white ass out here. Right now," Shorty said, his eyes working over the full length of her white virginal body.
She waited for a moment until she was sure he wouldn't reappear in the doorway and filled her glass again. She downed it completely, the rough brown liquid burning less now that her senses had been dampened. She had already taken almost a quarter of the bottle and knew they would be certain to notice if she had any more before they became a little more intoxicated themselves. There was no telling what they might do to her if they became really angry.
Susan took the remains of the bottle she had been drinking from, and opened another one from the ample supply they had brought along with them. She wondered how long they intended to stay at the cabin with so many bottles around. There were enough to supply an army, and she hoped against hope they hadn't planned a permanent hideout here. She would never get away in a million years unless they made a move of some kind.
"Where's that whiskey." A harsh cry from the living room turned her toward the door.
Susan used all her will power to force herself to walk back into the living room. She trembled, knowing she had no choice. If she didn't do as they commanded, they would only force her, and that would be a thousand times worse. No, it wouldn't help anything for her to show resistance. In fact they probably would enjoy it like school boys deriving sadistic pleasure in tearing the wings from the beauty of a summer butterfly, merely because it was beautiful.
No, fighting would only make matters worse and she couldn't bear for this to go on for too long. She would just have to bear up under it until the chance for escape came. She knew that she had to do it. There was nothing else in all the world to help her but her own will power and courage. She was alone.
"Me first, blondie," Shorty said as she stepped through the door with the bottles in her hand. "Jist remember whose yo' boss now."
He held his glass out as she drew nearer, a cocky smile stretched across his lips as he relaxed back in the big easy chair. She placed the full bottle on the table and began to fill his glass from the other. All the whiskey she had consumed was taking its toll and it took all her concentration to avoid spilling Shorty's drink on the table. She knew this would be a costly mistake and would probably bring further pain and suffering to her later on if she made them angry now. She knew she had to be very careful.
"Man, yo' really got a nice looking lil' pussy there, baby. Give us a lil' feel now to get us warmed up some," Shorty leered.
Susan automatically jumped back as his thick stubby hand reached out and began stroking the soft resilient pubic hair growing at the base of her white softly rounded belly.
"Freeze, bitch," he commanded coldly. The cruel unyielding tone of his voice immobilized her and she stood cringing next to where he was slumped down in the chair. Her face crimsoned at the indignity of having to stand there unable to move as his harsh callused fingers coursed around the secret protective parts of her exposed genitals. She could hear through tightly clenched eyes the snickers of the others in the room as they watched her black tormentor taking indecent liberties with her white young body. She moaned softly in shame and humiliation as she suddenly felt the tip of a finger part the sparse blonde pubic hair and push itself into the soft fleshy folds surrounding her vagina. It was still moist from the ravishment she had undergone in the car some hours ago and she heard a slight gasp come from his lips as he felt her openness.
"Yeh man, it's gonna slide up that tight lil' hole nice and easy like," he murmured as he worked his finger up and down the length of the narrow hair-lined slit. "Ole Shorty's gonna bake his bread nice and long in this lil' oven. He's jist gonna lay theah and soak and rise, and soak and rise, 'til the sun come up in the morning."
Susan felt the blood rising in her head until she thought her brain would burst from the pressure. Her face was beet red from the indignities being heaped upon her. Now as the others looked on, their demeanors slowly changed from one of amused fun to a slow smoldering desire.
Duke sat still slumped over the table, his eyes gazing darkly around the room as he watched the jubilant Shorty slowly working himself into a sexual frenzy that he knew was going to erupt in a volcano of rape within a matter of minutes. He wanted with all his soul to rise at that moment and smash his fist into Shorty's face until there was nothing left but a bloody mass of unrecognizable flesh for what he was doing to the girl. Not because of any particular feeling for the girl, but because he had possessed something the others had not, and now they would have it too. At least, Shorty and Coke would. He had warned them about that bastard, Stitch, and they had better heed the warning or he would forget they were his brothers in this war against the honkies.
"Don't put no marks on the girl," he suddenly commanded, rising from the table. "And remember, that crazy bastard don't touch 'er."
Shorty was suddenly jerked from his eager probing between the trembling Susan's legs by the harsh gruffness of Duke's voice, and withdrew his hand by instinct. He was disciplined to following the leader's commands without question, and this was no exception even though he had won the girl for the evening. He knew he could get away with almost anything as long as he stuck to what he could argue logically was his, but if he didn't, there would be danger he was not prepared to accept.
"Awright, he cain't have none," Shorty agreed after a moment's thought. He knew he had a right to argue over whether he should let Stitch have some or not, but wanted to take no risk now of losing the voluptuous prize he had won by pushing Duke's well-known temper too far.
"I'm gonna go to bed now," Duke announced as he kept his cold stare on Shorty, then made his way to the bedroom door and paused. "And, I'm gonna hold ya for whatever happens," he growled as he shut the door behind him.
Shorty stayed silent as he watched his leader disappearing through the door, then let his eyes flicker back to the downcast Susan still standing by his chair. He rose slowly, and with a sudden move that caught her completely by surprise, grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm painfully behind her back so that she was forced to turn and fall back against him. Coke and Stitch jumped up from where they were sitting and crowded around her so they could see the exposed view of her white curvaceous front. Stitch's eyes glowed like a cat's in the dark, as he feasted them hungrily on the firm round breasts pointing out at him, gleaming in the firelight.
"Y-Y-Y-ou gonna let m-m-m-me fuck 'er t-too, ain't 'cha, Shorty," he stuttered excitedly from the impact the sight of Susan's body was having on him. "H-H-He won't d-d-do nothin' if ya let me."
"You jist gimme a hand when I need it, man, and I'll see," Shorty leered through his toothy mouth. It was obvious he was enjoying his sudden thrust into prominence by winning the poker hand, and he was going to glean every satisfaction he possibly could from the situation, including lording it over his fellow gang members.
"Yo gonna do what I say without no trouble, white girl," he suddenly directed at Susan, who was struggling in front of him against the pain in her arm.
She clenched her teeth tightly together and refused to speak.
"Yo' better learn to listen to me, baby," he hissed, and continued to twist harder.
Susan grunted from the increased pain, but still refused to speak. Her face was locked in a determined expression of defiance that seemed to increase with each moment the final assault on her helpless body drew near.
The weakness and lethargy she let herself sink into earlier had faded, and she now found herself resisting them automatically with all her moral being. Even the cruel inhuman pain she was being subjected to could not overcome the intense revulsion and hate she felt for the three dark and almost animal-like faces surrounding her. She had to resist even though she knew her fate was inevitable. Her final punishment and humiliation would be in their hands.
"Awright, honky bitch, ya asking for it," Shorty finally growled in frustration and anger at the unexpected courage of the helpless girl. "You guys gimme a hand."
He jerked forward and pushed her toward the filthy rickety bed against the far wall. Her arm was almost twisted to the breaking point, and it was almost with relief that she felt herself being pushed face down onto the mattress, causing him to release her wrist from the cruel hold he had on it. But… it was only a momentary relief. As she struggled to hide her nakedness with her hands and arms, other hands reached out from the side of the bed and pressed her tightly down into the dirty creaking mattress.
"Hold 'er down," she heard a voice command through the haze, as without warning, a hard fist smashed into the side of her head. She groaned and her arms and legs went limp, her body splayed wide and helpless in a spread-eagle position across the bed. She trembled loose and quivering for a moment, and then tightened the muscles of her body again as she heard Shorty's next foreboding words.
"Gimme the belt outta yo' pants, Stitch. I'm gonna teach 'er a lesson she ain't ever gonna forget."
She cringed down into the lumpy mattress like a child cowering before the beating of an angry and unrelenting parent. And like a small child, there was nothing she could do but lay before her tormentor and take whatever punishment he desired to inflict upon her helpless body.
Shorty took the belt, and holding it by the buckle, twirled it experimentally in the air. He laughed cruelly as he watched her cringe deeper into the bed when she heard it singing threateningly in a small evil circle over her naked back. A vicious grin played on his face, showing his white ivory teeth through the large thick lips that surrounded his mouth. The others haunched close over the bed, their mouths hanging open in undisguised passion at the young helpless form trembling in stark terror before them. Shorty, taking full advantage of his new-found position, commanded them like puppets.
"Duke said not to mark 'er," he grinned. "Put that sheet over 'er and hold her down. One on each end."
Stitch quickly threw the ragged filthy sheet across the length of her body, and then reached through the iron uprights at the foot of the bed, grasping her twitching ankles in a steel-like grip. Coke grabbed her arms through the uprights at the head of the bed and pulled hard, stretching her between them like a helpless victim on an ancient torture rack. Her slender voluptuous body gleamed Goddess-like through the thin veneer of the tattered covering they had thrown over her.
"Now, honky bitch, ya gonna beg ole Shorty for a lil' niggah cock. Ain't that what yo' honkies call us?" he spat at her venomously.
For the first time, Susan managed to cough out a few painfully muted words through the hurt and hopelessness of her situation. She couldn't stand the thought of being punished and used for a prejudism she didn't bear against anyone.
"No, no. I've tried to help you, I've tried to help you," she half mumbled, half shouted up at him, tears of helpless indignation streaming from her reddened eyes.
"How, baby, how?" he tormented back down at her.
"I've marched and everything," Susan moaned, realizing even as she spoke that it was completely useless. All this was an excuse they were using to commit all the vile criminal acts they could get away with in the name of revolution just as the Russians and Cubans had done when they had raped and slaughtered thousands of innocent people in the name of social justice.
"But you ain't had no niggar cock, baby, and that's real integration," he smiled evilly and lashed the belt down hard against her buttocks under the thin sheet. Susan screamed and jerked her body, but she couldn't overcome the strength of the other two negroes holding her arms and legs. The belt raised and descended again and again in the chuckling Shorty's hand, tracing a painful path the full length of her writhing and twisting form.
"Agggggghhhhhh!" her shrill screams reverberated through the room, and the belt continued to lash down against her sensitive skin for a seeming eternity of pain and hurt that she thought would never end. Her dazed and tortured mind was beyond all comprehension of why they were doing this to her. She had tried to help them, she had done all that was possible in a town this small where the problem didn't really exist. She had taken part in the sit-ins against the unfairness of housing laws in the larger cities and supported all the drives for money for the poor in the southern states that were supposed to be starving to death. She had done everything, everything! And suddenly she began to wonder why, as her body jerked again and again beneath the cruel hard blows Shorty was raining down on her squirming back and buttocks.
"Tell me what you want ole Shorty to do to you, baby," he laughed aloud, after the punishment had gone on for a seeming lifetime. "Beg ole Shorty to give you a lil' black cock."
Susan moaned and clenched her teeth tighter together until it seemed as though she would die from the shame and pain of the horrible torture she was undergoing at the hands of the sadistic negro. But, she did not speak. She could not bring herself to this final depth of degradation that he was demanding of her. She had given them everything else and just could not bring herself to this one last act of total subjugation.
"Ooooogggghhh!" she moaned as he increased the intensity of the cruel lashing.
"I'm waiting baby," he tormented again through smiling teeth. "Beg ole Shorty to fuck ya."
"Ohhh, God, please don't, stop it, stop it, you're killing me. Oh God, you're killing me," the poor girl whimpered and screamed beneath the renewed viciousness of his attack.
"Beg me, baby," he chided gleefully as he sensed her weakening before the cruel assault.
"No, I can't, I can't. Oh God, no, don't make me," she screamed on and on until suddenly she could stand it no more. She gave one final long, low whimper and her body went limp on the bed. Shorty held the belt still for a moment listening to the soft pleading mumblings that began rolling from her half-opened mouth pressed tightly into the softness of the mattress.
"Fuck me… fuck me… anything… Oh God, can't stand it… don't care… just stop… please, please."
The negro's wide sadistic grin broadened as he heard the pathetically whimpering Susan's final admission of surrender to him. Breaking the will of this voluptuous young white girl to his own depraved desires gave him a sense of power he had never possessed before. It was something he would not have dared dream of three years ago when he had first joined the gang and to plot against the honkies with the early planners. It was something that was just beyond his wildest dreams… and now… like the revolution… it was happening.
He stepped back and threw Stitch's belt back to him. There was no longer any reason to hold her. She was completely limp, and all the fight had gone from her tortured and aching body. She was his for the taking, and he knew it. So did the others as they gazed down on the prostrate body of the young defeated girl. Shorty reached over and jerked the sheet off her back.
"See man," he smiled proudly at Coke, "Nuthin' but red marks, and they'll go 'way soon."
"Yeah man," Coke answered, a new found admiration for Shorty showed in his voice. "You gonna fuck 'er now?"
"Look at that man," Shorty pointed down to the rising bulge in his pants. "I'm gonna fill that lit' belly o' hers with black power 'till it pours out her ears."
"J-J-Jesus, l-l-look at 'er," Stitch stuttered in excitement, saliva rolling unnoticed from the edges of his mouth. "K-K-Kin I t-t-touch 'er, S-Shorty?"
"Yeah, go ahead while I get my pants off," he answered with a benevolent tone to his voice. He knew his generosity would give him even more prestige in the other's eyes and still wouldn't violate his promise to Duke. He stepped back and began unzipping his pants, while he watched Stitch reach over the side of the bed and almost reverently cup Susan's soft resilient flesh in his hands. His dilated eyes burned bright in the dim light of the lamp as his rough coarse hands moved over the rounded whiteness of her buttocks, twisting and kneading the flaccid globes of soft yielding flesh with an unsatiated lust.
She lay unresisting before him, slim and voluptuously curved at the buttocks and shoulders which flowered out teasingly from her narrow young waist. She moaned low in a half daze, intensifying the erotic picture her innocent, almost unused body presented to the leering dark eyes surrounding her.
"That's enuff," Shorty suddenly warned, as he saw Stitch's fingers begin pulling open the cheeks of her buttocks and inserting themselves down inside. "I'm gonna stuff 'er now."
Susan lay trembling with her face pressed tightly into the mattress. Part of the tattered unclean sheet was clamped hard between her teeth to still the throbbing pain that raked her body. She lay cowed, unable and not caring to move. All thoughts of resistance had been crushed from her by the lashing belt that had played over her helpless body a moment ago. She had an urge to turn her head back, and look at them to show her defiance, but there was no strength left in her now. There was no further sense in prolonging the inevitable rape they were going to subject her to again. She had fought with honor, and they knew now that whatever they took would only be the spoils of a greater physical strength, not the conquering of her soul.
Let them take it, damn it, ran through her tortured and dazed mind. Let them rut into her beaten body if that's what they called victory! It was the only kind they would ever have!
Suddenly, she felt Shorty's hands coursing over her back, and she quivered again. She did not resist for fear of further pain. She knew that now her resistance could only be mental and would be a victory only within herself.
"Turn around, honky," Shorty commanded above her. "Take a look at what a lit' black cock looks like."
She didn't move or answer until she suddenly felt his hand tangling in her hair. He jerked her head up and around a few inches off the bed. Her eyes opened automatically and her face contorted in horror at the long thick black instrument that he held over her head. It was monstrous and webbed all along the underside with heavy throbbing veins, giving grim advance warning of the lustful state he had worked himself into during her beating. Her eyes trailed a slow path up the length of his torso to his face, a piteous and useless plea nestled in them, pleading for mercy. There was none. Nothing but a cold and unyielding face staring down at her.
"Like it, honky?" he tormented.
She tried to answer, but her voice was frozen somewhere deep in her chest.
"Like it, I say," he hissed again and twisted her hair viciously in his hand.
"Y-Yes, I like it," she finally managed to stammer through the pain and degradation.
"Well now, I'm gonna put it way up in that white lil' belly o' yours 'till ya can taste it," he grinned sadistically.
Coke and Stitch laughed nervously from excitement, thinking of what was about to happen. It had been different back there in the car when Duke had been laying it to her. They couldn't see it all in the semi-darkness of the car. But, now she was stretched out before them completely naked in all her youth and innocence… and they were going to watch her get fucked like they had never seen anyone get fucked before. Both their eyes glowed like hot coals in the shadows from the anticipation that had been building like a storm since they had first abducted her off the streets hours back.
"Hold 'er until I git it in," Shorty ordered nervously. His voice quivered from the salacious thought of what he was about to do to this virginal young white girl, and his long thick cock ached like it had never ached in all his life. He dropped to the bed and rolled across the full length of her back, his face pressed into the dean soft odor of her blonde hair that glimmered in the firelight.
Susan winced from the attack and began to struggle weakly, but unseen hands forced her back deeper into the mattress. Her arms were pulled to the sides of the bed and held in a vice-like grip that could not be broken. Shorty's knees behind her were slowly and relentlessly forcing her knees apart with a rough pressure that scraped the tender backsides of her thighs and calves.
She strained with all her power to keep them closed, but it was hopeless. She gave a sudden "oooomph", as the breath surged from her lungs, and her resistance broke. He dropped between her legs as they spread wide across the mattress, her toes hanging out over either side of the bed. A soft helpless moan escaped from her tightly closed lips as she felt the hardness of his penis make warm wet contact with the soft inner flesh of her thighs. He moved forward, insinuating the full length of it along the narrow wide-stretched crevice of her buttocks. Her shoulders were held down tight against the bed so that her struggles were limited to her lower torso. Her buttocks squirmed and twisted beneath him, inciting his lust to the utmost.
"Git up on yo' knees," his voice breathed into her hair.
She tried to stiffen her body more and pressed tighter into the mattress. Bitter tears of anger and fear ran from her cheeks, wetting the sheet under her face as she felt his smooth hot skin pressing dowel onto her, covering the full length of her prostrate body. She tried not to move now after the command, knowing whatever she did would only worsen her position.
A hand pushed down on the back of her head, pressing her face tight into the mattress. She struggled for a moment to breath but could not. She tried to cry out, but her mouth would not open. A faint dizziness swept over her from the lack of oxygen and she let her body go limp. The hand was released, and she gulped desperately at the air greedily filling her tortured lungs with welcome relief. Hands on her now relaxed hips pulled them powerfully up off the bed, another hand staying hard behind her neck to keep her breasts and face pressed harshly down into the mattress. By the time she fully recovered her breath, her buttocks were waving high off the bed behind, and she made a momentary and fruitless lurch forward to flatten them again. The hand pushed her face tight back into the mattress cutting of her breath as before.
She relaxed and ceased her struggles. She knew she would eventually give in the end, anyway. There was nothing left now but horrible humiliating submission to their every obscene desire. Her body was a helpless toy to be used as they wanted in their animalistic quest for satisfaction… satisfaction that would only cease when they had exploded their hot liquid desire deep inside her soft and resilient body that was now beyond all resistance and care.
Kneeling behind her, Shorty gazed down at the full white moons of her buttocks stretched up in sacrificial offering to him, with eyes bulging wide in hot uncontrolled desire. God, he had never seen anything like it. His balls tingled and ached, and he longed to thrust forward into the narrow teasing slit swinging into the air before him right now without further hesitation. But he couldn't. He had waited too many hours to get her like this, helpless and kneeling like a slave in front of him… he had to get the most from it.
The negro held himself back, purposely torturing himself for the moment in anticipation of when he would thrust forward and slide his throbbing black cock deep between the full white moons of her proud little white ass swaying gently and defeated before him. She was an arrogant little bitch, and he wanted to break her more than anything else in the word. He wanted to feel her squirming beneath him, needing him as much as he needed her. That would be the ultimate conquest; a proud white bitch that was repulsed and horrified with the thought of a black cock fucking into her suddenly turning animal and loosing all control over herself, forgetting who she was, where she was, and all but the overpowering need to be fucked until she couldn't move again. The thought raced through his loins like an electric shock.
His animal cunning burned. By God, he was going to make this little honky bitch squirm one way or another… and like it whether she wanted to or not.
For a few torturing moments he ground his long thick cock around in the narrow white crevice of her ass, pressing the soft quivering cheeks of flesh together around it to enclose it like the fitting of a warm fur-lined glove. He leaned forward and planted a warm wet kiss with his thick rubbery lips along the standing ridges of her spine, feeling her quiver beneath him. She groaned slightly as her body shook and trembled from the moist contact at her loins and back.
And when he backed off slightly, running his long pink tongue slowly and wetly down the full length of her back until he reached the tightly clenched crevice of her ass swaying gently, high off the bed. Her shoulders were still held hard down against the mattress by the leering Stitch and Coke.
Shorty dropped his hands to the full rounded buttocks, placing his thumbs on either side of the soft resilient cheeks and pressed out gently. He knew this was the time for patience. She had passed the first stage of physical submission by violence and now the conquest of her mind and spirit must be done by softness of touch. The unexpected change from pain and brutality to one of tenderness and caressing of her private parts should, in spite of her resistance, catch her off guard.
She had geared her mind to the fighting of the pain and humiliation… but not softness and pleasure. She was not prepared for it.
Her buttocks clenched together against the pressure he was exerting with his thumbs, and he eased off slightly still keeping up a constant easy tension for a seeming thousand seconds, until the straining muscles of her inner thighs slowly tired and relaxed, bit by bit. His face was crouched on the same level with the thin red folds of flesh that covered her vagina and as he watched, eyes gleaming, they slowly parted before the almost imperceptible out ward pressure of his thumbs. He could see a slight moisture forming and glistening on the soft insides of her thighs, as with the easing of the pain and the fatigue of resistance, she let her backside slip wider and wider apart.
He moved his face forward, careful not to shake the bed and alarm the sudden trust building inside her from the gentle touch he was subjecting her body to now. His face was a scant few inches from the soft blonde pubic hair covering the tender resilient flanges of her vagina, and the odor was one of sweetness that drifted incitingly out to his flaring nostrils. He swallowed deeply as his thumbs pressured outward and her secret cavern flowered open to his frozen gaze until suddenly it was completely open and the soft inner flesh came into tantalizing view. It was pink and smooth and a slight moisture from her secretions was visible, glistening and wet on the soft inner flesh of her thighs.
He breathed hard and blew softly into her. She squirmed and he could hear a faint groan slipping from between her now open lips. She tried to move slightly, but the pressure of the other two negro's hands held her tight in place. She was becoming quiet now, and her movements were not one of escape or fear but of reflex from the torturing touch of his hands and breath against the softness of her secret parts.
Susan tried to still a rising moan she could feel building deep, deep inside her throat. The sudden lessening of the pain had done something to her… something frightening. It had been like the release of a great weight pressing down on her-and the unbelievable relief that follows the sudden lifting of such a burden.
She sighed, and let her muscles that had been so keyed against the torture relax in to a loose tranquillity that increased a thousand fold by the sudden absence of pain.
But now, there was something else… something had replaced the harsh blows that had rained down on her helpless form a few moments ago. It was soft and feather-like, except that it was wet… wet and warm, and was making strange magical circles along the length of her naked and unprotected back. She shivered slightly as it worked its way slowly down to the rounded moons of her buttocks widely exposed behind her.
There was a pressure from somewhere, and she felt a cool rush of air race between the full spreading globes as the pressure increased in intensity. She clenched them tightly together in automatic rejection to the strange unknown probe. The pressure remained, gentle, and lingered as her dazed mind puzzled over it. Where was she? Who was she? What were the light tiny animals running over her sensitive flesh, caressing her kneeling body as though they were human things except smaller and a thousand times more gentle.
"Mmmmmm!" she sighed, and her buttocks relaxed in a great feeling of warmth and peace as suddenly her behind felt open and wet as it had never felt before with the ever constant pressure pushing outwards again. Susan did not resist, and another long low mewl escaped from her lips as she let herself be pulled open wide by the magic beings playing upon her. She tried to move her shoulders, but they were locked tightly to the softness of the mattress by harsh hands whose touch she did not recognize. Richard? No. Her father? No. She could not think, but it did not matter, they were no longer hurting her, there was no longer the excruciating pain that had covered and permeated her entire body a few short seconds ago. There was only the light rising sensation of floating, floating on a soft gentle fleece-covered cloud whose very warmth belied the presence of danger.
Shorty, kneeling behind her with his thumbs holding the crevice of her buttocks wide, grinned an obscene grin. He could feel the thoughts running through her body and knew he had won his short patient battle as the cheeks of her ass slowly relaxed in front of his excited face. He pried them wide, wide apart until all of her crotch stood open and unprotected before him, his for the taking.
His head raised slowly and he pressed his face forward, pushing open his mouth hard against the wetness of her vaginal slit. She squirmed slightly and he tightened his hands on her buttocks so that she couldn't slip away and with one quick rush of his thick wet tongue, he thrust it forward between the warm fleshy folds of her cunt.
He heard her gasp from the sudden unexpected entry into her soft wet passage and a surprised sigh smothered itself into the mattress. She had jerked forward with the first hot teasing contact in an involuntary spasm of delight but quickly screwed her buttocks back hard against his face. Her vaginal passage contracted, opening and closing tightly around the long smooth length of his tongue sunk deep inside her. Her breath exploded down into the bed in small quick gasps that muffled themselves into tiny mewling grunts, twisting her face harder and harder into the bed as he began a sudden curling and flicking of the wet moist tongue imbedded up inside. He pushed his lips closer and began to work at the whole of her open backside, sucking and licking at it crazily while her buttocks throbbed and swayed around his face almost out of control.
"G-G-God Damn," the open-mouthed Stitch gasped as he watched with unbelieving eyes her sudden and complete surrender to the black wildly licking face buried in her cunt behind.
Coke could not speak. He had released one hand from her shoulder and was pressing it tight against the outside of his pants where a small circle of seminal fluid had seeped its way through from the hard throbbing excitement of his aching cock. He released her shoulder with his other hand as there was no longer any need to hold the subjugated girl so hard, and began coursing it up and down the quivering flesh of her back.
Shorty worked slave-like behind the kneeling Susan, his tongue withdrawing and plunging, with drawing and plunging, making a wet sucking sluicing noise with each wicked thrust. Her cries were one long low continuous moan now, as he withdrew his lashing tongue suddenly from inside the warm, smooth passage and found the hard, throbbing clitoris and licked. He pushed his face farther under her crotch and began to suck and tease at it gleefully with his teeth, while she writhed and churned her buttocks above him in a lewd dance of desire.
"Ooooh, ooooh," she chanted, her body and mind completely out of control from the delicious and obscene sucking of her loins. With a lewd and triumphant satisfaction, he could feel the muscles of her buttocks hollowing and contracting around the sides of his cheeks as he licked and sucked at her with a greedy untamed animal lust that threatened to drive him completely crazy.
Her cunt flowered open wider and wider, and her moistness increased with each further second his sucking mouth worked at her wide-stretched hole. It ran in slight warm trickles down the side of the negro's cheeks pressed tightly into the softness of her ass warmly enclosing his face, and down the inside of her smoothly working loins into the soft inner flesh of her hollowing thighs.
She was almost ready to cum!
He could sense it from the wild abandoned tempo of her body and knew it was time, time to ram his cock into her innocent softness. He wanted to feel it throbbing around him when she reached that climax that was so near now, and wanted to explode inside her white little belly with himself in rhythm to her own cries of fulfillment. He wanted to fill her full of his hot nigger cum until she would never forget tonight as long as she lived. The spoiled little bitch, he'd show her what nigger cock was like and how good it could be. She'd never want one of them honky whites again, he'd stretch her so wide, she'd never be able to even feel one again. All the years he had spent in bitter subjugation himself began to bubble over in a boiling cauldron of hate and lust and the desire to hurt.
His long thick cock ached from the anticipation he was building, building, while he worked at her loins with his hot punishing mouth. With some difficulty, he slithered up to his knees and worked his hips into the now wet and glistening opening of her buttocks from behind.
"J-J-Jeez, he-he's gonna f-fuck 'er now," the gasping Stitch stuttered.
"Yeah, man," Coke breathed, his own cock now out of his pants and held tight in his free hand.
Shorty was kneeling behind her now, his hips pressed tight into the open crevice of her ass. He held the throbbing thick black cock tightly between his fingers with the large blood-filled head poised at the tight elastic opening of her cunt. He watched it with lust-gleaming eyes as the tiny wet lips contracted and throbbed around the edges like the mouth of a fish gasping desperately for breath in the hostile environment of a neglected fishbowl. He ached all over from the thought of the lovely young white girl kneeling in abject servitude in front of him to be used as he would for as long as he would.
His gaze was locked on the whiteness and purity of her body, and he let his eyes feast for the slightest of seconds on the way her soft full ass curved sharply down into the narrow wasp-like waist that looked as though it would break from the slightest of pressure. On either side of his kneeling legs, he could see her white thighs tapering down sharply to her small well-formed knees and then blossoming out again to the fullness of firm shapely calves. He envisioned her lying on her back with the dainty strength of those white calves locked tightly behind his ass pulling him into her in a savage burst of passion that only the mind can conjure. That would come later, flickered through his brain. Now his penis and testicles ached as they had never ached for anything before, and he had to ram it into her now before it was too late… before he emptied his sperm all over those soft white buttocks kneeling helplessly before him.
There was just a finger's length between her open and fully exposed vagina and the end of his cock now, and he pressed her buttocks wider apart to see it more clearly. His cock jerked slightly again as though unable to contain itself when the tiny I puckered anus came into view just above the moist opening of her vagina. For a moment he was tempted to take her there, but the thought passed from his mind as he felt a small dewdrop of moisture forming slowly on the end of his tortured prick. He had to have it now or it would be too I late; he couldn't hold back another instant.
He moved forward, slipping his knees as far up between her wide stretched thighs as he could he possibly go, and guided his long thick cock forward between his thumb and forefinger, gently parting the soft blond pubic hair with the rigidity of the throbbing head. He felt the warm soft folds of the ragged edges of her cunt close wetly over the rounded tip of his cock.
He groaned.
He had never in his entire life felt anything so soft and tender. Trapped between the delicious layers of wet ready flesh, he let it lay throbbing for a moment. The lewd contact of his thick black cock pressed into the whiteness of her behind, incited him to uncontrolled lust.
God! What a feeling, droned through his now dazed mind. He had to take her.
Shorty flexed his buttocks, feeling all the frustrations he had built up over a lifetime of being a black nothing suddenly surging forward with him into the warm wet flesh of the groaning white girl in front of him. He gasped aloud through the silence of the shabby room, as he felt the tight hot walls of her contracting cunt soothingly slipping over and then wetly enclosing the rock-hard length of his surging cock.
"Oooooooh," she grunted beneath him as he surged into her, pushing the smooth, giving walls of soft flesh inside before him like rippling waves off a speeding ship. Her body trembled and shook before the sudden assault that took her completely by surprise. She had lain dormant before the strange unknown caressive torture her battered body had accepted with grateful joy after the brutal beating it had undergone, but suddenly the mood changed. Gone were the tender wet probings of her vagina that had seemed so unreal and faraway. Gone was the daze that had encompassed her mind and taken her into another world of half-conscious ecstasy.
She was suddenly thrust back again, back again into the reality of the shabby dirty room on the filthy squeaking bed with her shoulders being pressed down painfully again into the musty mattress. Her shame and humiliation returned with a vengeance, as she felt her thighs and buttocks being swept wide apart by the thick black cock of the negro who was tunneling up into her mercilessly from behind.
"Oooh, man, she's tight," she heard a loud low gasp spit through the room behind her. "God, what a pussy!"
She squealed suddenly, not from the pain, for there was none. She was wet and open, and he slid into her easily from the warm moist secretions that had flowed from her vagina during the teasing ministrations of his tongue a moment ago. But she squealed from the sudden and degrading realization that she was hopelessly trapped on the bed between the hands of the negroes in front of her and the thick rampaging cock skewering into her from behind. She screamed for him to stop, helpless tears of frustration and humiliation flooding again from her terror-stricken eyes. But there was no respite, the intrusion deep in her dilated vagina grew and expanded before his uncontrolled assault until she felt the sudden heavy weight of hard muscular loins crushing hard into her buttocks, sweeping them wider and wider apart as he pressed forward more with all his strength to sink it as deep inside her quivering white belly as far as he could.
"Man," Shorty breathed, his lips bared back tight over his broad white teeth. "I'm all the way in, man."
Susan groaned piteously beneath him, her face pushed deep down into the mattress by the pressure from behind, until she could hardly catch her breath. Her vagina felt twisted and stretched as though she were being impaled on a telephone pole. She fought, clenching the muscles of her buttocks tightly together to keep the long hard fleshy stab from imbedding itself further. But, it was useless. Her struggles only incited him more, as her cuntal muscles clasping around him, wet and warm in protest against the unwanted entry, enclosed around him like warm melted butter, and made the huge black cock throb and grow inside her until she felt stretched and filled in her belly and loins beyond all possible imagination.
Her back ached horribly now, from the cruel position she was still held in for so long on the mattress, and she tried to move, but the hands had pressed against her shoulders again after her warning move when Shorty had rammed it into her from behind. She felt other hands too, hands roaming over all of her body not occupied by the negro pressed tight into her buttocks from behind. Her breasts were being kneaded and squeezed by fingers that had slipped secretly between them and the mattress while she had been occupied with the skewering of her vagina. They were hard and cruel and brought her tiny bud-like nipples to an involuntary erection from the harshness of the naked contact with her flesh.
Another hand coursed over the ridges of her cruelly bent spine and followed it down to the juncture of her buttocks where quickly and without preparation, he thrust a finger deep into the confines of her tight unused anus. She jumped from the first painful intrusions, and then froze to ease it a bit. The pain passed as her back passage slowly became adjusted to the unnatural intrusion.
"I-I-I got my finger in 'er a-a-ass," she heard the moronic Stitch stutter excitedly through the daze of the three-way rape. "M-M-Man!"
Tiny bursts of protests broke from her lips. Her vaginal passage felt stretched and tom beyond all possible repair, and the dual ravishing of her loins with Stitch's long thick finger implanted deep up her rectum made the feeling all the more intense. She tried not to move as she felt the pain easing with the stillness of her body, but the crazed negro ground and twisted his finger deeper, circling it and expanding her anal passage until she thought it would split from the almost unbearable pressure. The hand cupping her naked breasts beneath, twisted and squeezed with brutal thoroughness, teasing and pulling at every part of their young round firmness until she thought they would burst from the painful manipulations.
Kneeling behind her bent and trembling form, Shorty flared his nostrils and began fucking in and out of her with long, lunging strokes. His short thick hands held tight to the rounded curves of her hips, slipping the moist sheath of her stretched and throbbing vagina back over the thickness of his cock as though he were thrusting his hand into a small Vaseline filled glove.
But this was still not enough for the lunging negro. He had to have more from this proud little white bitch who wouldn't even have spit on him if she had met him on the street. He wanted her bent to his will, completely bent to his will. He raised his hand high in the air as he continued the powerful in and out strokes he had established, and brought it down hard against her quivering white buttocks. The flat smack of flesh against flesh echoed like a rifle shot through the room. Susan's scream shattered the quiet an instant later.
"Move that lil' white ass, baby," he hissed be hind her. "Move it good."
Susan complied without hesitation. She knew enough by now to realize the first blow would only be followed by more if she defied him. Her buttocks rotated slightly with her first cautious experiment with movement, and then, feeling no pain, she let herself follow his rhythm, grinding and twisting her ass back against his hard driving pelvis as though she were glued to it.
"Come on, shake it, honey, shake it," he rattled through tightly clenched teeth, as he felt her begin to react to his hands digging into her gyrating hips.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she exclaimed again and again, as she bucked beneath to his command. The sounds she made were muffled and indistinct from her face buffeting hard down into the mattress. With his every hard forward lunge now, his thick black cock which filled her cunt to the bursting point, flung her hard forward against the restraining hands of the two negroes holding her shoulders down to the bed. She felt as though she were being attacked by a giant ape who was pushing her thighs open to the utmost angle and reaching to the deepest point in her belly with his monstrous ever-growing cock.
His fingers kneaded and squeezed at her buttocks with a wild frenzy, jerking the imbecilic Stitch's fingers from her anus and replacing it with one of his own in a hard cruel thrust into her soft rubbery depths.
"Aaaaghhh," she screamed unheeded.
He swept and rammed into her with a growing frantic abandon of sensation from the hands working at her every sensual part. She could feel him thrusting more sadistically now, the sight of her bucking body inciting him to greater and greater effort. Her breath had become one long continuous groan that was no longer muffled by the filthy sheet. She was droning it out into the room her face turned sideways on the mattress so that he could look down on it and see with lust-gleaming eyes, the effect it was having on her. Her lips opened and closed fish-like in torment, half in humiliation and shame from the sudden uncontrollable feelings surging through her, and half in fear that she would be ripped asunder by the cruel hands coursing brutally over her body.
There was suddenly another movement around her head, and she could feel the mattress dropping in front of her face as a heavy weight descended around it. Fingers were fumbling with her lips, trying to open her mouth and then she felt a spongy, wet sensation pressing against her lips. She jerked her eyes open and to her horror saw, right in front of her face, a long black cock about seven or eight inches long. Coke, who could no longer take the lust inciting scene of the white girl being fucked from behind by Shorty, had sat back on the bed and wriggled under her face. It was pressed tight into his loins and his legs were splayed out on either side of her shoulders.
He lifted her head, with the flat of his palm pushing back against her forehead, and with the other hand was forcing the head of his prick into her mouth. She mumbled in terror and revulsion and tried to shake her head away, but he held her tight and she could not move. She could only clench her teeth and lips tightly together and try to keep it away, but he was not to be denied. As he increased the pressure, it felt as though her lips were being pushed back through the sharpness of her teeth. He groaned and struggled against their softness, feeling them parting, tiny bit by tiny bit, until suddenly with the aid of an extra hard lunge from the negro fucking her in the rear, she gasped. The broad thick black cock crushed through her soft, moist lips and into the wet warm cavern of her mouth. She could feel the hugeness of it slithering tip the length of her tongue and filling her mouth completely with its thick fleshy hardness.
Coke, in his lust-incited state, began to slowly screw his cock up and down toward her face with his thick prick sliding in and out of her mouth. His hands held her head in a vice-like grip, with the palms pressed hard against her ears. She struggled mentally against the obscene rape of her mouth, but it was useless as he quickened his thrusts to match those of Shorty fucking into her from behind, never quite pulling it all the way out, but always leaving a slight part of the tip beyond her lips in the hot moist shelter of her mouth.
Susan closed her eyes, her humiliation knowing no bounds. She felt numb to the world around her, devoid of sensation. In a trance-like state, she watched the length of the long black cock where it came out of the fly of his pants and jerked toward her mouth like some horrible snake creeping from its hole in the ground.
"Suck, baby, suck," she heard him command harshly above the top of her head… and she did. She was conditioned to following their every command now from the fear of the pain that would follow if she didn't. Her lips slowly began to nibble at the thrusting instrument, and she coughed and sputtered at first until she became accustomed to the unnatural invasion of her mouth. She tried not to think about what she was doing, but it was impossible not to. His testicles bounced against her chin and there was stale odor of sweat around his loins that filled her nostrils with constant reminder of the cruel depraved attack she was being subjected to.
Behind her, Shorty could feel himself building toward the end. He knew it would be soon and began to fuck faster into her, harder and faster, battering mercilessly the quivering cheeks of her ass with his hard driving hips. His hands gripped her waist hard, squeezing the soft flaccid flesh into random crazy shapes beneath his fingers. His lips bared back against his teeth, and he could not close his mouth. His breath came in short stuttered machine gun blasts that crackled obscenely through the dark room. He stared down at her slender bucking body and bobbing head. The contrast of Coke's long black cock disappearing into the chalky whiteness of her face, shot chills of lightening-like sensations up the length of his spine. He tore at her buttocks, stretching the twin moons as wide apart as he could and watched his own long black cock disappearing into the moist pink flanges of her cunt in an exciting contrast of black into white.
"Jesus, Jesus!" he sputtered, "Christ."
As he worked demon-like behind her, his eyes flickered smokily back to her tender lips clasping and unclasping around the growing black cock of the negro in front, who was forcing her to suck him. Susan worked in a daze at the command of his fingers, licking and sucking like a hungry child as he forced her to follow slave-like with her lips, his every thrust into the tender shelter of her mouth. Her ravishment continued on and on at both ends of her bent and tortured body as the crazed Stitch cupped and kneaded her jiggling breasts hanging down beneath her bucking torso with a cruel hard pressure that periodically jerked her mind from the ceaseless rape of her other tender parts.
The saliva in her mouth grew and grew. It was becoming slightly sticky now as small emissions of lubricating fluid seeped from the end of the negro's cock into its warm depths. She could feel his hips writhing and straining below her bobbing head as though he were in the last spasmodic throes of death. His long sensuous fingers were curled tightly in her hair slipping her mouth up and down over the end of his thrusting fleshy instrument as though it were another cunt into which he was venting the full wrath of his animal-like lust. She could feel it stretching and expanding inside her mouth until there was no room left, and moaned piteously around it as it thrust forward hard down to her tonsils as though it were trying to meet the other hard cruel prick skewering deep into her belly from behind.
She had never felt so utterly used and debauched in her life, and sucked with her mouth and wriggled her buttocks from behind wildly to end it as quickly as she could. There was nothing else but that now, nothing but to please them as best her innocent young body could, and pray it would be all they would demand.
The negro in front of her jerked suddenly as though stuck by a pin, and writhed his hips up tight into her face, sinking the full length of his cock deep down into her gasping throat. She fought to breathe, but it was hopeless as suddenly his cock erupted in the warm wet interior of her sucking mouth, unintelligible sounds of profanity rolling from his lips. His hot thick liquid squirted into her mouth like the rush of raging water through a small storm drain, and she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed, her cheeks inflating and deflating all the time from the pressure of the bursting dam of sperm. It lasted for a seeming eternity, her mouth filled with the pungent taste of his sperm and passion, and then it jerked a long last jerk, and softened beneath her swirling tongue. Her senses were gone and she was hardly aware of it when a moment later his cock oozed in a slimy soft mass of flesh from between her lips. His hands pulled her head limply forward to lay trapped against the whole of his trembling loins.
She could still feel its rubbery soft length pressed tight against the cheek of her face, when she heard a grunt from behind her. She felt her thighs and buttocks swept wide apart in one last ass-crushing rush, as the other negro fucking into her mercilessly, shoved it as far as it could go in her belly and began spewing his hot sticky liquid deep up inside her. His mouth opened wide with a loud uncontrolled, "Aaaaaaah," as she felt his lewd sperm filling her vaginal passage with a great rush. She could feel it flooding hotly into her and filling the depths of her womb until she thought she would burst inside. There were several convulsive jerks of his pelvis against the soft cheeks of her ass, a desperate digging of fingers into the soft flaccid flesh of her hips and then he fell forward over her back pushing her face down across the exhausted and satiated negro who had just forced her to suck him dry.
There was no movement except for the stuttering sounds of the moronic Stitch, masturbating by the side of the bed, his eyes rolling wildly in his head as he too approached an orgasm. There was a movement of bodies, and Susan felt herself falling to the mattress as Stitch slipped from under her and Shorty lifted himself exhaustedly from her back. There was a sudden cool rush of air between her legs as his deflated penis withdrew from her ravished and wet loins.
She rolled over on her back and lay still, unable to move and not caring. She had never felt so debased and lost in all her life as a horrible picture formed in her mind of what she must have looked like, being buffeted between the two negroes like a helpless rag doll. Her body ached and she dimly felt hands crawling over the wetness of her thighs, which were still moist from Shorty's sperm. She did not move and felt the lips of her vagina being pressed apart again and looked up through half-slit eyes to see the crazed Stitch kneeling between her open legs, his long hard cock poised in his hand for entry into her. She closed them again, and drifted into semi-consciousness not caring anymore.
Then there was the vague sound of a hand smacking against flesh and then an angry voice.
"Ya stupid son-uf-a-bitch," Shorty snarled, "Duke said ya couldn't fuck 'er."
Then a defeated whimper and a weight lifting from between her thighs. Her eyes flickered open again for the briefest of moments, and she shivered as she saw Stitch standing over her naked body at the side of the bed. He was stroking wildly with his hand at his large black penis, locking his eyes insanely down on the wet moist mound of her loins that glistened in the kerosene lamp as though covered with a light coat of early morning dew. She heard him groan and felt a sudden rush of hot sticky wetness flooding over her naked breasts.
And then, there was nothing. As she drifted down into a welcome protective cloak of sleep and exhaustion, just as she lay, too battered and lost to even put her legs together.