Chapter 6
"Good evening. I'm Jack Sommers with the "Two Is There" evening report."
The news director stared at the teLevision screen in his office. Six o'clock brought temporary relief to Bill Potters. At this hour six-days a week, the telephones silenced with heated reports of attempted suicides and traffic jams, the twix computer dulled to an occasional belch from New York headquarters, and the stage was set for the next morning's Nielsen ratings. Whether the public realized it or not, the news sold teLevision, not baby diapers and Japanese make automobiles.
And hot blonde haired, ripe assed reporters like Sherrie Williams. Potters pooched out his lips cogitatingly, while the bland faced reporter droned on about boring consumer prices . . . he hadn't seen Sherrie since lunch. Last visual image he'd had of her was those rosy lips chewing on the pencil and big blue eyes staring off into space.
Ah, what the hell . . . Potters shooed a hand dismissingly in the air. She probably spent the day researching that Shaker Jones character . . . the big ugly black man, he snickered to himself. Again the image of Sherrie's blonde hair wadded in the fist of a black rapist while he tugged at his pants zipper in coldblooded oral rape crackled through his brain.
Potters swung around in his swivel chair and raked worried fingers through a shock of graying hair. Common sense determined he was a fool for sending a defenseless woman out on the streets to cover the story of a convicted heroin dealer suspected of heinous crimes. And yet.. . if she broke the story.. . .
The clock struck six thirty and the tired on-air reporters began drifting down from the studio and into the newsroom. Potters shot from his chair and grabbed the arm of Jack Sommers.
"I'm looking for Sherrie . . . any idea where I might find her?"
"Hell no . . . " grumbled the reporter, tearing out of Potters' grasp. "If you see her, tell her she screwed me up on the white shark story. I didn't have a
Goddamned word of copy. . . . "
Potters stroked his chin. Sherrie had never been negligent. Now where was she?
"Uggghhh . . . you're ch-choking me!" gurgled Sherrie, tearing at the arms gripping her around the neck. Arms, dark, muscular arms holding her captive. The reality was too great for the blonde haired, blue-eyed virgin to bear, and willfully she forced her mind into a numbed state of being. The aborted burst for freedom had consumed every ounce of strength left her, leaving her body strangely pleasantly warmed and opiated.
Shaker had her pinned to the mattress, his black, monolith body pressing her nearly naked form against the squeaking bed. He cut out her light, cut out all hope of escape and now he was cutting off her air. He pressed his thick, fleshy lips to hers and jabbed his foul tasting tongue between her pearly teeth. The others snickered as he tormented the white captive. Sherrie kicked her heels into the bed and snapped at his broad nose with her teeth . . . but he had her pinned. Grunts of angered protest gave way to weak whimperings of despair.
Finally, Shaker lifted his head and grumbled at Carter. "I said somebody wash the blood off 'er face.. . I don' like no taste a blood . . . none 'cept pussy blood. . . . "
The last remark blazed red in Sherrie's mind.
"How's 'bout I use my tongue," jibed Jarvis.
Dizzily, Daisy raised her head off the pillow where she lay in a rumpled heap. "Somebody fix me a needle . . . I wan' a needle . . . . " Her voice was shaky, her groping hand trembling.
"We ain' got no more, hon," spoke up Carter. "Blondie here go' the rest. . . . "
"I said I wan' more shit . . . now somebody git me some shit or I gotta go out on the fuckin' street to get high . . . . " Her voice was thick with need.
"Shuddup and move over, sister . . . blondie and l's ready to take over the bed . . . . "
Daisy's pleading hand reached out to grasp Shaker's arm for understanding. With a snarl, he tore her hand free.
"Leave me the fuck alone.. . . "
"But.. . I . . . I wan' some shit
Whack! One steely backhand sent the ebony bodied woman careening over backwards onto the floor where she lay in a heap. She lay there whimpering, the room silencing except for the pathetic sound of an addict shivering towards withdrawal. No one in the room saw the black form crawl snake-like through the opera curtain into the closed storefront.. . or heard the fumbled clank of the cash register drawer open.
They had their eyes full. Shaker had flipped Sherrie over onto her stomach and was kneading the soft, tantalizing flesh of her alabaster ass cheeks with his strong black hands. His fingers dug into her body, white flesh oozing between them like so much bread dough.
"Holy shit . . . " Carter felt his testicles bloat from the sight.
On the bed, low plaintive murmurings could be heard . . . "Don't touch me . . . there.. . please, just leave me alone . . . " moaned Sherrie as the three black men pounced on her at once, poking and probing at her anal crevice as if a white woman might be built differently from a black woman.
'Can' have no ass fuck without some lube," chuckled Jarvis, reaching down beside the bed and opening ajar of hand lotion. "Daisy uses this shit for sandwich jobs. Wan' me to git 'er ready for ya, Shaker?"
Squeezing a palmful of the oily lotion into his hand, he rubbed the cool liquid over the soft mounds of Sherrie's buttocks.
Sherrie shuddered from the cool liquid bathing her body. She felt movement behind her and dimly reasoned in her drugged mind that the fat man had replaced the black monolith who'd nearly broken her back from sitting on her. The breath wheezed out of her lungs then and a bubble of fear escaped her rosy lips.
He was flipping her numbed body over and running his greased hands over her full, unprotected breasts, smearing the oozing liquid over the blood-red tips of her nipples and kneading them between his thumb and forefingers like marbles. The punishing caresses made Sherrie yelp with pain. His fingers roamed down over the soft white bowl of her belly to snake with a brutal force into the naked crack of her pussy.
"Now it be time for Blondie's bath," jibed Jarvis, his tongue watering from the thought of nibbling at the tender pussy lips nestled behind blonde fleece. His flabby belly bounced as he fell to his knees beside the bed and wedged the white captive's legs open with his black steely hands. "Ah," he sighed and smacked his lips. He stared at the tuft of blonde hair glistening in the lamplight and placed his face so close to her private parts that his warm breath bathed the swollen pink folds of her pussy flesh.
Oh, Lord, she was naked from the waist down. I must struggle to concentrate and defend myself against these rapists! Why, why did I accept this assignment'. She bit down hard on her pouty lower lip and tasted her own blood.
Instantly her body stiffened. Her back arched from the sizzling sensation down between her thighs. Someone's lips, fleshy, sensuous lips were clamped on the flesh of her pussy. The hot, moist contact sent a startling sensation pulsing through her like liquid air. She writhed spastically from the thick, wet tongue probing across the nerve-filled buds of her cuntal flesh, snaking into the never-touched home of her warm, pink womb.
That warm tongue ventured up to the oil marble of her clitoris, roaming through the hairy forest while his stiffened middle finger slowly began to penetrate the secretive flesh of her virginal vagina!
"Ohhh . . . no, please . . . " A plaintive wail bubbled from the captive's lips as the stiff finger twisted its way up into her belly. Half way up, it met with resistance, but that didn't stop Jarvis.
Dazedly, Sherrie glared down between the rich swells of her naked breasts to see Jarvis' head bobbing slowly up and down like a cork in water between her widely stretched thighs. Dear Lord, her legs were pulled so far apart, the cords of her tendons stood out like telephone cords!
In the blurry haze of despair, one shred of reality stood out above all: she was about to lose her virginity and there wax nothing she could do to prevent it. One woman against three demented men and another mindless female! It didn't paint a rosy picture.
Now Jarvib' thick lips glistened with Sherrie's cuntal juices seeping femininely from the heart of her womb. His paws fondled and stroked the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs and naked loins. Sherrie blinked open her eyes and a mirage of dark, leering faces grinned victoriously down at her, the amber lamplight adding a shadowed effect that was not quite real. None of this was real.. . the hands, the tongue slowly creating within her a strange quiver of arousal that had never been awakened in her before. And it all seemed centered in the nub of her manfully manipulated clitoris!
Was it the drug they had shot into her veins that made her hunger after the touch of male hands? Did virginity, the sacred treasure she had so long guarded, mean that little to her? God, everything was out of control, out of her hands and in the hands of the fat bellied black man whose masterful hands were kneading her body with a demanding touch her libido could not deny!
Jarvis felt Sherrie's tight, smooth stomach quake as he plunged his tongue up her nude cunt. To make certain he had her where he wanted her, he thrust the slimy length of his wet tongue up into the velveteen walls of her pussy, so deep he licked her hymen. To merely humiliate her was not enough; he craved to turn her into a goose bumped mass of tingling female flesh and prove to Shaker and Carter who was the man here!
Sherrie moaned as she stretched the sore length of her arms over her head. A libidinous desire to spread her naked thighs wider apart made her do just that, opening all of herself to the slobbering black man licking noisily at her vagina. Some alien force within her guided her movements; she tensed her abdominal muscles and flinched her buttocks as she opened the columns of her slender thighs wider to him.
For once the news reporter asked no questions (and avoided all lies) of the situation. Helplessly pinned beneath his weight, what choice had Sherrie now but to lie back and let the drug calm her fears. The feel of Jarvis' tongue swabbing her pussy was heavenly, far more wonderful than the sharp pang of fear.
Jarvis crushed his face against the insides of Sherrie's slender legs, his thick lips mashed against her virginal pussy lips, both lubricated by her cuntal juices . . . rubbing back and forth, with tantalizing noisy strokes.
Hands slid under her buttocks to knead the firm, tight mounds while the devilish tongue slithered wetly in and out of her pussy, flicking maddeningly at her clitoris on the out-stroke and driving her to insanely ticklish heights of ecstasy. Sherrie struggled to physically deny herself the wicked desire swelling up within the unplundered realms of her feminine libido. It didn't work. Some say the first time is always the best, and so the virginal blonde could hardly be expected to close the gates to ecstasy she'd yet to experience. At least that's what her subconscious concluded, as she flailed her head from side to side, mumbled epitaphs gurgling deep in her throat.
A steely hand yanked Jarvis' hulking body off the lithe blonde. "I said clean off her head . . . leave 'er cunt to Shaker!"
A set of liquid blue eyes sprung open as the deliciously licking mouth lifted . . . never to return. Her ears picked up the lust crazed snickers of black men staring down at her naked, goose bumped body. She detected Shaker's voice, Shaker making the demands. Shaker Jones.. . the cold blooded sadist, the rapist, the murderer! She clenched her jaws tight and read in his snappy black eyes her very thoughts.
The six-foot six-inch black man stroked his chin cogitatingly, his muscled chest rippling with sweat under the amber light. "On second thought, maybe we all three oughta git 'er at once. We been foolin' 'round here too long already. If the snoopin' little bitch be a decoy for the cops, we ain' got much time to git ridda 'er."
Sherrie drew in her breath and felt her heart might burst with fear. A news reporter isn't much different from a policeman in the eyes of a criminal. Had they found her camera? Blue eyes fiery with terror, raised pleadingly up at the three black men hovering over her like dark dreams of horror. Their eyes raked over every swell and curve of her naked body, making her flesh crawl as if an army of ants were crawling from the tips of her curled under toes to the red-tipped fingernails. She could feel their raping black hands mauling the nubbing tips of her crinkled nipples, gouging the tender membranes of her virginal vagina with their sinewy fingers, and bruising her unmarried flesh with their blue-veined black penises!
The fear-stricken news reporter lay spread-eagled on the rumpled bed, cringing from the sight of three black skinned torsos, hard muscled and panting, their naked, hairless chests beating with revengeful lust! A whimper broke from her chest as the recent image of Daisy groveling on the bed between two sadists who, unbeknownst to her, reveled in humiliating her womanhood. And Daisy had done nothing to stop them . . . she fed their egos, loving the punishment.
Sherrie's eyes fixed on Shaker's black girth of maledom. When had they stripped naked, she wondered dizzily, blinking at the black snake hanging halfway down his thigh. Before her unbelieving eyes, that black snake raised its head toward the ceiling, the mushroomed head wagging from side to side, the single eye dripping venom. Blue, thick veins pulsed with wicked lust. A forest of thick, kinky pubic hair forested his loins, like a camouflaging bush to hide the creeping snake. Beneath lay twin bloated, leathery sacs of his virile testicles! Sherrie gulped and closed her eyes.
"Too much for ya, baby?" he glowered. "Ain' nothin' like a dirty black dick to get you white chicks goin'. . . and now you gonna git all three black dicks at once. . . . "
"Noooo!". The painful cry tore from Sherrie's swollen throat.
Shaker's black eyes snapped with rage. Drawing a deep breath, he bloated out his powerful chest and sneered down at his white captive. "Don' you never let me hear you say no to Shaker.. . cause you be one dead bitch . . . " His voice was hardly a whisper, but his voice came through loud and clear.
Silence fell over the dingy room. Carter and Jarvis turned to each other, yet neither spoke. Maybe mess around with the bitch for a while, shoot her full of dope and leave her in Tenderloin alley. Fate would take care of the rest. Now Shaker wanted to take fate in his own hands. That they'd taken their luck in abducting children, dragging them back to the apartment, shooting them up with heroin and forcing them into masochistic sex was as far as they wanted to trust their luck. Murder! And a cop on top of it all! Jarvis scratched his head and chuckled nervously.
"Take it easy, Shaker . . . we don' gotta get all uptight. . . . "
"Shut the fuck up!" bellowed the six-foot six-inch sadist.
His accomplices realized all too well the force behind Shaker's foul moods, and this cringing white woman's negative answer to his manhood was putting him in one foul mood.
Shaker's jaw muscles moved ominously; sparks snapped from his eyes. Glaring down at Sherrie stretched nakedly on the bed, he yelled: "Get up.. . up on your knees . . . and don' you dare say no to Shaker Jones again.. . . "
Sherrie struggled up on her knees; tears clouded her wide blue eyes. Rubbery and weak and totally traitorous . . . that's how her body felt. She longed to spit him in the eye, curl her rosy lip up at his precious manhood, but she had neither the spirit nor the defense to do so. It seemed a mile, the short stretch from one side of the bed to the other. The effort of knee walking across the bed to where Shaker stood in front of her, created a strange scraping friction between her slender white thighs, sparking off the unwanted ticklish charges snapping around in her naked loins. She paw-walked across the mattress in front of them, naked, giving them a bird's eye view of her alabaster, half-moon buttocks and the shadowed mounds of her breasts dangling from her slender rib cage.
A face so innocent it would have made the devil cry, stared up at her black tormentor. Dimpled chin trembling, liquid blue eyes blinking helplessly up into his grim face, she subconsciously swallowed pride in hopes of appealing to his nobler character. But nothing noble reflected in the ebony hewn primitive fertility statue standing with thick arms crossed over his chest!
If Shaker showed no outward sign of arousal, his accomplices did. The sight of that perfect white body with its creamy hills and valleys shadowed in soft lamplight sent their penises lurching before her horror struck eyes.
"I said get you' fuckin' white ass over here!"
Pearly teeth clamped over a rosy lip, Sherrie approached, her eyes riveted to the venomous cum-filled snake wagging from side to side a tongue's length from her face. His control over his body mesmerized her, the way he could will its direction. Slowly, his hand reached down to grab that black meat and a tight fist pumped and milked.
Sherrie, whose acquaintance with male genitals was limited to parked car petting sessions, blinked at the size of his male weapon.
"I wan you to git me off . . . I wanna shoot cum all over that pretty white face o' yours," snarled Shaker. "An' I wan' you to be nice to my buddies here, get my drift, sweetheart?'
Three black men closed in on her.