Chapter 9
Carrie lay semi-conscious swooning from her deliciously soothing morphine-induced dream. In her mind, she was laying in an open field, green as a queen's emerald, with flowers splattered over the countryside like so many sprinkled jewels while the golden sunlight sprinkled over her body, soft as angel dust. The heavily perfumed air was rich with the scent of fertility.
Somehow, she had lost her clothes, but it didn't matter, because monarch butterflies were circling above her, covering her nudity in flickers of orange and black . . . and besides, Daddy was there, without his clothes on, so of course everything was fine. Even when a big black snake uncoiled its shiny body from a twisted tree trunk and slithered over her naked body, she wasn't really afraid. Nothing could hurt her with Daddy close by.
The warm, tingling sensations grew more intense as Carrie's drug-dulled brain cleared. Vaguely, very vaguely, the over-protected virgin realized that the pleasurable feelings were centered in her breasts and down between her legs. Still, she felt no fear.. . only a sense of relief and peace as she lazily stretched her legs further apart and swiped her velvety tongue over her parched reddened lips.
Gradually, the butterflies of her dream died one by one and the heat of the afternoon had lifted to be replaced by a cold waft of Arctic wind. Instead of laying in a pristine pasture of harmless creatures, she was hurled into a den of coiling, hissing snakes. . . .
Carrie's long lashed lids flickered open. There was no pasture, no butterflies, no Daddy . . . instead, her brain was spated with horrifying memories of the man, black as charcoal, holding an ice-cold gun against her spine, who'd forced her into a car and then rudely shoved his nasty weapon up under her skirt.
My skirt. . . . Where's my skirt? Carried puzzled dizzily. Dear God, where am I? Fear, loud as the freeway traffic overhead, echoed in her fevered mind.
Gradually the fog cleared from her mind, like dew slowly dissolving in the morning sunlight, and she found herself staring in wide-eyed horror at her virginal, naked body sprawled out on a dingy mattress. The young bride tried to clasp her tiny lotion-soft hands to her swelling bosom in her gesture of fear, but found that her arms would not move . . . her wrists were tightly bound with her own nylon stockings. Panic-stricken, she gazed wildly around the light splattered room where red lantern flames illuminated the smudged windows and the grimy, dusty floor and the dank smell of musty neglect stung her nostrils. OH GOD!
The vile, flat featured terrorist who'd abducted her from within sight of her husband's parked car and had done God knows what dreadful things to poor Edward, was crouching over her tied-down body with his disgusting thick lipped mouth planted on the tulips of her never-before-touched vagina!
"AAAEEEEIIIII!"
The terrorized wife's scream sluiced through the eerie silence of the condemned building, and Jackson slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. "Don't you make another sound, lady, or I'm gonna have to get nasty . . . and I don't wanna scar up that pretty white flesh of yours." Carrie's lithe body flexed involuntarily and her legs struggled to kick out in defense, but they wouldn't budge; they, too, were bound, keeping her face down on the dusty smelling mattress.
"Don't try none of that shit!" snarled the young black terrorist, leaping down upon her helplessly stocking-bound body. "Jes' cause yer Daddy's a Washington big shot, don't pull no punches with me!"
The man's wiry-muscled body, firm and sleek as a panther, nearly knocked the wind from the frightened girl's lungs as he fell upon her, but the instant she caught her breath, she screamed again and struggled, her naked body squirming like a white earthworm being sliced in half by a shovel. Pure terror swept like liquid lightning through her veins, erasing every trace of erotic pleasure, as evil-eyed, scar-faced Jackson planted his repulsive hand down between her quaking thighs.
"Shuddup, bitch!" hissed Jackson, savoring the sounds of his own sadistic snarl.
Even though he spoke in a low voice, there was an icy, ominous note which frightened Carrie so badly that her shrieks died in her throat and her futilely straining figure fell limp. Instinct for survival told her that this man would delight in torturing her, and she remembered that he carried a gun. Obviously, her captor was a raving maniac: her only hope lay in trying to placate him.
"Wh-what do you want with me?" she choked out in a piteous squeak. "Please . . . if you'll take your hand away I'll give you anything you want. My husband's rich and I . . . "
A cold, cruel burst of laughter interrupted Carrie's timorous cries. "If your husband wasn't rich and white you wouldn't be here. That nigger-hating sonofabitch is gonna pay every cent he's got to get you back . . . if he wants you when I'm finished with you. Maybe you never heard of Jackson McBee, lady or of the South African Liberation Movement. . . ? "
Terrorists! Kidnappers! "Oh, no, pleeeezzzz!" Carrie whimpered as the black man's rough fingertip crawled along the sensitive lips of her never-before-violated vagina. "Get your dirty . . . hands off of me you . . . you animal!" I never let Edward touch me there. . . but to have a black man do it.. . oh, God!
"Black hands . . . ? Is that what you was gonna say?" he taunted, digging his outstretched bony middle finger deeper into the cringing folds of his victim's genital flesh until he discovered the tiny button of her clitoris. "Don't seem to make much difference to a whore like you, lady . . . my, my, but my finger is all wet from your cunt."
It was a few mindless seconds before Carrie comprehended the man's vile words, but when the obscene meaning sank in, her parchment-white skin blushed bright red.
The dirty, ugly black maniac! But she dared not open her mouth. Tears were flowing down her burning cheeks now, and although she refused to admit the awful truth to herself, a peculiarly ticklish tingling had arisen in her finger-ravished vagina.
Until now she had deliberately averted her eyes from the black bat-sized spear jutting out from his loins, but finally she found her eyes drawn to it like a mosquito to a campfire. It was ugly and beautiful at the same time as its shiny ebony skin stretched tautly over the bulging veins of his blood-fed penis.
Carrie struggled to lift her eyes from it, but it throbbed before her eyes, its black mushroomed head oozing drops of pre-ejaculate cum that squirted from its tip like a snake's flicking tongue. Somehow, the kidnapped bride's terror was actually less acute than it had been on their wedding night. Worse still, this disgusting creature was actually stimulating her traitorous body!
The bride had no difficulty in identifying the uncontrollable sensations of sexual arousal stoking in her heated loins. Sometimes, half-waking from a strange dream, she'd allowed her girlish thighs to rub together first softly, then faster and faster until she was perspiring and breathing heavily beneath her night gown. That same unwanted excitation was building in her now, as this vile black man thrust his dirty middle finger into the pure pink walls of her virgin pussy. How could a disgusting animal whom she feared and loathed make her feel this way?
"Like it, huh?" taunted Jackson. His other hand reached up to tweak her sensitive nipples, pinching the nerve-filled buttons until they grew erect and puckered. "Getting hot for my big black cock?"
Carrie sucked in her breath as Jackson gave his hugely swollen purple-veined black polished thing a proud, lustful glance. Nausea rose in her churning stomach and panic temporarily overwhelmed her sinful feelings of arousal.
"You filthy animal!" she spat at him, forgetting her fear of physical harm. "Oh, God, stop it! Get your hands off of me!"
Her arrogance reminded Jackson all too vividly of the way white folks had treated his black ancestors for two hundred years and a hot flood of hatred surged through his veins. Those years of contempt, segregation, Ku Klux Klan meetings, Imperial Wizards and cross burnings had to be atoned for! SALM, he now realized, was a petty white man's game about as consequential as a Sunday afternoon football game. Peter, Una, Carl and James could write speeches and communiques until their fingers bled, but that wouldn't hurt the bigoted whites and it wouldn't change their minds. Any effects this kidnapping might have on political policies would be short-lived sensationalism while he rotted in San Quentin fighting off Chicanos and prison guards. Racism was his cross to bear until the day he died.
Take revenge now! his gnarled mind screamed and his maddened hands roved over the helplessly bound woman, a vindictive smirk distorting his flat features into a headhunter's mask of hate. The professor's wife was just another rich cunt whose husband taught repression to save his white ass from the blacks who outnumbered his race three to one in South Africa. Now she'd have to plead and beg for mercy . . .
Jackson slid his middle finger all the way to the top of Carrie's desire-drenched vagina and at the same time began a tormenting tweaking of her clitoral bud with his thumb tip. His leer of triumph widened as he felt her naked body spasming beneath his manipulations, heard her breath catch in her throat, watched her eyes glue themselves to his prodding fingers in haunted, hypnotized disbelief. Christ! She was acting as if no man had ever done this to her before! Jackson knew he was good with women, but wasn't this white bitch's response a bit overdone?
Carrie was trying her best to numb her body and dull her responses, but no mental concentration of conjured up fear-real as it might be-would quell her flaming nerve ends. Until now she'd always considered herself a stubborn Irish woman with morals to match a nun. Yet now, as this unforgivably vile creature's fingers dug into her guarded femininity and his beer-smelling breath bathed her navel in a dank bath, she could not stop herself from sinking into a whirlpool of wanton lust. Every nerve in her untouched loins was quivering electrically, from her scalp to the tips of twitching, curled under toes, and her hips were writhing into the mattress, bucking up to meet his filthy fingers just as if she were a cheap whore. "Oh, noooo!" she wailed.
The professor's wife recoiled as her own sluttish cries of delight echoes in her buzzing ears, for she realized the baby kitten mewls coming from her parted lips only urged him on. It's repulsive, but I can't control myself. I'm acting like a whore!
Even as her conscience rang with self-disgust, Carrie was bucking her feverish little cunt up to meet the man's forever blackened fingers fucking into her virgin pussy. I must be dead and gone to 'n U. she thought wildly, for her whole body felt as if the mattress she lay on was a bed of burning coals, scorching her traitorous body.
Not hell, stupid-heaven! a voice chuckled from her subconscious. This is the pleasure your mother felt but never admitted to when your father cornered her in the bedroom and demanded indecent things of her. Your mother loved it, but she was too weak to admit it!
As the female juices of Carrie's gushing pussy dripped down Jackson's black finger, he pulled his finger from her quivering cuntal depths, popping like a cork from a champagne bottle. Before removing his huge hand from her pubic mound, he tickled the puckered brown ring of her anus in anticipation of future delights. One day soon he'd suck that honey-scented pussy till she screamed for more; he'd fuck his giant cock between those prissy lips; he'd give it to her in the ass like he did to Una. Now, tonight, he was content to fuck her tight, well-oiled pussy and show her exactly how a black man could liberate her uptight white body!
"Mmmmm . . . aahhhh," a groan of frustration rose in Carrie's throat as Jackson withdrew his finger from her pussy, but then a low gurgle of horror burst from her rouged lips as she saw the black terrorist wrench his thin body to a kneeling position and guide the angry-red length of his throbbing penis up along her churning white belly, snaking its black slimy path. For a horrified second, she feared he might shove it into her mouth.
Instead, he guided his cock toward her heaving breasts and in terrified fascination, she watched the fleshy shaft mashed up against the tautly responsive nipples of her naked breast, the black mushroomed head shimmering in the light of the kerosene lantern. Her wide green eyes bulged from their sockets as she saw first one, then the other, of her ivory white breasts smeared with the vile man's sticky white sexual juices.
He's not human! Edward is right!. . . Blacks are animals! Yet even as her conscience decried this vulgar assault, she felt her faithless body breaking out in a passionate dew of perspiration and tremors of unwanted sensation were slithering from her desecrated raped breasts down to her fitfully quivering pussy.
Vm just as bad as he is-I'm foul, dirty and sex crazed! Nobody should be feeling the way I do . . .
"Nice tits, lady," Jackson muttered through passion-parched lips. "But I think I oughta fuck you now . . . nice lady like you deserves a favor."
Carrie's naked young body froze into icy rigidity at her kidnapper's sneering words. Tortured wails broke from her heaving chest as the lusting yearning in her tingling pussy battled with the strict Irish Catholic edicts. When the snarling male pressed the blunt tip of his iron hard cock against her virginal cuntal lips, panic and pleasure stormed like lightning and thunder through the inexperienced bride's goose bumped body.
"No, please, STOP!" Carrie struggled against the fiery fingers flickering out from her steaming pussy to stoke her loins. It was simply unthinkable that she should lose her treasured virginity to a black rapist instead of her loving husband. "I.. . I've never done . . . it.. . I've never.. . been with a . . . man before!" she gasped. "Please, stop. OH, please, please . . . "
"You what?" Jackson couldn't believe his ears. Shit, he didn't know there was a female over twelve who was still a virgin in Berkeley. She was married, for Chrissakes! By God, maybe she wasn't lying. Still . . . virginity was something you were born with and lost with your first front tooth.
"Pl-please," she sobbed brokenly, unable to control her emotions as the angry-red eye of his thick veined penis seeped with anticipation and prodded against her cringing cuntal slit. "You've taken my money, my pride.. . but please leave my virginity!" The young rapist's reply to this pitiful plea was swift and unexpected. All his sadistic instincts surfaced like a dead fish at the sight of this proud white woman's tears and helpless whimpers, and his cum-filled testicles churned with impatient lust. He positioned his lust-swollen cockhead at the gaping wet lips of her cunt, licking at her vagina in a wet French kiss. Flicking his hips forward with a low growl, he rammed his cock several inches up the tight warmth of her virginal vagina.
"AAAAAHHHHHHhhhhh!" All the unwelcome pleasure fled from Carrie's brutally impaled body at once as violent pain swept through her with hurricane-like gusts. "AAahhhhhh! Noooo!"
So this is what her mother felt every night as her cruel father took out his frustrations on her femininity. It was more awful than dying at knife point. This black monster was eating away at her insides, tearing her apart down there as if that thing had teeth! Would she ever be able to walk again?
The young bride's screams brought a sadistically cruel glint to Jackson's flashing black eyes, shining like two chunks of burning coals in the reddened lantern light. Up between her wide-stretched vaginal lips he forced his rock hard penis, stretching her tiny pussy to three times its normal size. Blood surged through his veins and thudded behind his temples, half-blinding him as he plunged downward with all the pent-up violence and hatred in his sleek black body.
I'm gonna fuck this white bitch until she can't walk straight! he gloated.
"Aaaaaiiiii! Ppppleeezz!" Carrie wailed as the fleshy weapon ripped into her cuntal sheath. "You're hurrrrrrtttinnng meeee!"
The terrified girl squeezed her vaginal muscles tighter around the invading penis then collapsed in limp despair as her efforts only added to her torture. As her tight channel grew less resistant, the blood heavy cockshaft tore all the way up inside until he banged into the membrane of her maidenhead.
VII be damned . . . she wasn't shittin' me 'bout bein' a virgin! Jackson almost climaxed right there when his swollen cock head said hello to the fragile hymen. His upper lip curled back like a conquering caveman and he threw his whole weight forward to shred the delicate tissue like so much Kleenex. His blood tingling balls slapped against the crevice of Mrs. Tarrington's splayed out ass-cheeks.
Carrie thought she'd suffered the most severe pain any human could endure, but her agony grew with every inch of the kidnapper's plunging cock that dug deeper into the cavern of her vagina. Now she could scarcely breathe, much less scream, and her physical pain was so intense that she hadn't the energy to spare for mourning her irretrievable purity. As the red-hot poker of male flesh buried itself to the hilt in her pain-wracked channel and grazed her tender cervix, she fell into a semi-coma.
Oh, God, his hairy things are touching my anus! was her last cogent thought for several moments. He's going to rip right through my belly!
A fiendish grin curled over Jackson's thick lips as he realized he'd made her faint. Egoistic pride swelled his oversized member cock, making it so thick that her soft cuntal walls clung to its throbbing shaft with his slow withdrawal.
Cool air rushed into Carrie's fire-filled pussy as her attacker's penis slipped from her tortured pussy with a lewd, sucking sound. Her mind came out of the fog, shaking away grogginess as she thought: Oh, thank God! He didn't kill me after all!
But her relief was short-circuited as Jackson gripped her naked breasts like a bicycle and plunged back into her raw and bleeding vagina. This time the penetration was quicker, but no less painful and Carrie shrieked as the white hot flesh sank to the hilt and crashed against her womb.
"Too much for ya, huh?" leered the kinky-haired rapist as he held his penis in an unmoving throbbing state inside her clasping tight cunt. "You'll be begging before you know it. Una begs . . . and you'll beg too!"
"NO! NEVER!" spat the young bride. "I'd die before I'd beg."
"You just might, cunt!"
There was a note of chilling sadism in his tone that said in implicit terms that she was his captive; she had no hope of escaping his torture. She was a black slave girl being sold on the block-auctioned off like an animal. He could force her to do anything his cruel heart fancied and maybe he could even force her to find pleasure in this cruel rape. After all, his plunging fingers had already proven her body's betrayal. Why not her mind?
No! she vowed. I'll hate him for the rest of my life for treating me like this!