Chapter 7
The negotiations to end the riot had come to a standstill, the authorities upstate, at the old maximum security complex, admitting to fault - archaic living conditions, bad food, bread and water for anyone who griped - but refusing to implement change until the rebellious cons relented and went peacefully back to their cells. The cons, on the other hand, refused to relent until their demands were met, and throughout the state, at every lockup including the one where Nurse Simmons and the other hostages were being held, the prisoners were with them. The press was being allowed in to meet with inmate spokesmen. But the revolt could continue for weeks, or at least until the food ran out, and Tony knew, could feel it in his bruised neck, the reopened cut in his hand and the kickmarks down his back, that Slick Jack and the others would see to it that he didn't last as long.
He lay curled on his side on the cold tile floor in the corner of the operating room where they had flung him, pretending to be unconscious still. But the men were paying no attention to him. Someone had discovered the rubbing alcohol supply, and what seemed to be a celebration was keeping everyone busy.
Outside, beyond the high gray wall, the loudspeakers were blaring again - first warning through innuendo of the dire consequences to be faced by anyone who harmed the hostages ... a pause ... mention of the negotiations going on upstate ... then beseeching the ringleaders within to set the women free as a public display of good will.
Tony almost laughed. The riot, although some of the cons were sincere, actually were backing the men upstate, was merely an excuse for Slick Jack and his clique - the hard core, those who would most likely never get out of prison alive - to rip off the broads, to rape. They would never give up the women. And those who were sincere, those who were quietly waiting it out, weren't strong enough to take what the others had and intended to keep.
Jeanie! He almost bolted up from the floor, had to force himself to lie still. He'd forgotten the girl. Where in hell was she? What had they done with her? Eyes lidded, neck aching from Slick Jack's blow, he looked about the sterile operating room. Already some of the men lay drunk on the floor. Others were drinking deep from the bottles of alcohol mixed with juice from the commissary, the empty juice cans stacked neatly, forming a pyramid, at the center of the operating table. But there was no sign of Jeanie. Or Slick Jack and Spider. There was only the ersatz booze, the shiny hospital equipment, the glaring light overhead and the guzzling cons.
His gaze shot to the hall door. There was a commotion out in the corridor - whoops and jeers. Spider, wearing wet shorts and shower clogs, appeared in the doorway, shouted, "She been scrubbed 'n' fixed up real purdy, y'all. Act like gen'elmen."
The room quieted down, all eyes on the door. Spider stepped back, bowed at the waist. Several more men entered. Then came Slick Jack and another man, with Jeanie, a stunned look on her beet-red face, bouncing naked atop their shoulders. The girl's skin was bright pink and glowing. Her long blonde hair was still wet, hanging in cordlike bunches past her tits, down her back. There was a silk bow tied to her pussy. It was apparent that she had been bathed in the whirlpool tub at the rear of the infirmary, and that she was the cause of the celebration.
A cheer went up from the men. Bottles were raised in a toast. Jack and the other man stood at the door, their black hands clutching the girl's creamy white thighs, both staring up at their captive.
"Clear the table," someone yelled.
"Yeah, man. Let's do some operatin' on 'er. Give 'er a beef injection," said another.
Spider grinned crookedly. Moving briskly to the operating table, he used his arm to sweep the juice cans to the floor. The tin clattered on the tiles. Another cheer sounded. Before the noise died, Jack and the other man had set Jeanie down at the edge of the table beneath the round glaring ceiling light.
Tony wanted to leap from the corner, tear into Jack and the others. But that would be suicide, he knew: there were a dozen blacks - no I Thirteen ... fourteen, and no whites - in the room, and the memory of the angry faces that had rushed into the tag shop, the hate generated because he had tolen their white prize for a day, was enough to convince him that Jack and the others would tear his head from his shoulders. He lay still, breathing hard, angry because he was as helpless as the frightened girl.
Jack snatched a square alcohol bottle from one of his men, chug-a-lugged half the contents. He wiped his mouth and extended the bottle to Jeanie. The girl shrank back - a helpless blonde kitten in the circle of ruthless men, the red bow drawing all eyes to her pussy.
"Bitch!" Jack slapped her. He held the bottle to her swollen lips, made her drink. The men roared with cruel laughter when she gagged and tried desperately to push the bottle away.
It went on for a long time, Jack slapping her each time she refused to drink from the bottle ... calling her names ... a white slut... a pig
... the others squeezing her tits, kissing her between drinks. Until Jeanie swayed, her big blue eyes lidded and glazed. She seemed lost. Tiny. At her wit's end.
"We gon' play a game," announced Jack at last. He fingered the ribbon at Jeanie's crotch. The others set their bottles down, waited expectantly. "First one who can untie the bow," he continued, "get the first shot o' pussy."
Spider stepped forward, reached greedily for the ribbon. Jack cuffed him. "With your mouth!" he snapped. "Hands behin' you. Like you was dunkin' fo' apples."
Immediately the little man bet his face to the girl's crotch. The others balked, shoved him aside to get at the ribbon. Jeanie sobbed, head lolling drunkenly as face after black face dipped into her pussy. Whoever had tied the bow had done a good job. Each man came up with hair in his teeth and the ribbon remained.
In spite of his fury and the pain from the beating, Tony felt his dick growing hard. He couldn't blame Jack and the others for wanting the minx. She was a goddess beneath the bright light. Her nipples were little pink gumdrops on jiggly mounds, her belly a pillow, and her snatch, puffed up from the bath, silken and clean, was a small furry pie any man would be anxious to eat. He wished he hadn't alienated the men. He wished he could join them, tear the ribbon loose with his teeth, and fuck his stiffening meat back up the girl's tight succulent rectum.
The cons were growing impatient. Jack seemed to have planned it that way. He stood back, arms folded, legs wide apart and big black uncircumcised joint showing hard at the fly of the shorts, watching what was done to the girl with the look of a DeSade advocate in his eye. There was plenty to watch. The men, unable to undo the bow, had begun to abuse Jeanie. The girl teetered at the edge of the table. Soft mewing sounds came from deep in her throat. Her small frame shook, breasts aquiver. One of the cons had found a broomstick, had shoved it under her cheeks from behind, and was ramming the tip into her cuntlips. Another had climbed onto the table, had whipped his dick out and was rubbing the glans in her hair.
Still another had found a filthy plunger, and, while several continued the game, nipping at the ribbon and tearing high-pitched yelps from the girl each time they came away with their teeth full of blonde pubic hair, was working the thing on her tits, plunging it down over first one tender mound then the other. The instrument came away with loud pops - the sound of someone smacking their lips. It caused her breasts to swell rapidly, left bright red rings at the base. Her nipples grew elongated, inflamed. Weakly, as if to ascertain her tits were still there, hadn't been torn away by the cruel suction, Jeanie brushed at the agonized buds each time the plunger was removed for the moment it took to release one melon and cover the other.
By the time Slick Jack elbowed his cohorts aside, ripped off his shorts and pressed the girl back - legs gaped wide over the edge of the narrow table, her head moving feebly from side to side at the opposite end of the improvised sacrificial altar - stepped into the provocative breach and announced that he, because the others had failed to undo the ribbon, would initiate the fucking, Jeanie was a trembling mass of fresh bruises, moans. Her tits had grown huge from the plunger, almost twice normal size. Her cunthole was wet. The cheeks of her ass seemed to breathe, asshole winking. From where he lay, Tony could see up both hot hairy holes, could see Jack's black dick parting the pink folds of her lush little pussy. His own dick was harder than the tiles he lay upon. He clutched it, knowing the others were too busy enjoying the rape to pay much attention to him.
"Best white pussy ole Jack ever had. Yassir!" Jack cupped his hands under the cheeks of her ass, raised the girl's hips. The hunk of meat at the tip of his uncircumcised cock slipped smoothly up her round belly.
Jeanie gurgled something undecipherable. Her loins bucked. The cons around the table, content for the moment to observe the penetration, cheered as Jack's long prick humped all the way in, and both he and the girl - almost as if Jeanie was enjoying it too - began to fuck.
"Ain't no sense lettin' this end go to waste," said Spider, who had moved to the opposite side of the operating table and was caressing the girl's swollen lips with one hand while he massaged his rod with the other. "Ain't never seen no white girl's mouth as purdy as yourn."
Jeanie's face went pale as he placed his hand on her forehead, bent her head and shoulders back over the edge of the table. Her arms flailed. Her legs shot up, heels beating a frantic tattoo at Jack's waist. She tried to press her lips tightly shut, but Spider applied pressure until her neck threatened to snap. She gasped. Her mouth gaped hot and wet. Spider fucked his dick in, groaned, cupped his hands at either side of her head and began to grind.
Balls aching, hardon clutched tight in his hand, Tony watched the two men use the girl. She made loud sucking noises. Her cunthole slurped with each dip of Jack's tool. The others around the table played on her inflamed tits, taking turns at pinching her nipples. The broomstick that had tested her pussy was wedged deep in the crack of her ass. He panted and watched, remembering the feel of the girl's lovely lips on his cock ... the feathery caress of her blonde pussy ... the nipping grip of her rectum. Outside the prison the loudspeakers continued to blare, asking again that the women be released. Someone at Center had found a loudspeaker of his own. Curses rang out in reply to the ghostly barks from beyond the high wall. A heated exchange followed, the late afternoon air alive with indignation on both sides.
Tony envisioned the redhead in the back room at Center. Or was the elderly secretary still taking them on, he wondered. Which of the two was taking a dick at that very moment - perhaps both of them ? Which was being fucked in the ass, which in the forebelly?
He groaned, cautiously whacked his stiff dick and cursed himself for having bypassed the chance to sample two more helpless pussies. And for having underestimated Spider and Jack. He stared longingly at the orgy unfolding beneath the bright ceiling light... the small pink mouth sucking ... the pinker gash turning in and out along the length of Jack's dipping tool. He suspected the riot would end soon; that the authorities would take revenge on the brazen cons shouting taunts at the troopers and Guardsmen beyond the wall, and that if Jack and the others continued to use the thrashing girl, concentrating on her instead of him, he'd be safe until the prison was retaken. But the thought gave him no solace. The floor was hard and cold beneath him, and the girl on the table, the two at Center, were soft and warm. He didn't want the riot to end. He didn't care if Jack and the others cut off his balls ... just so long as they allowed him to fuck one last time.
Yet he remained still. He pretended unconsciousness until every man in the room had taken a turn on Jennie... flooding her at both ends with cum ... had turned her over and fucked her out that way too, and had left the girl huddled in a small protective ball on her side on the table. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as Spider approached, prodded him with a shower clog.
"You sure belted 'im good, boss," the wiry little man, his dick hanging limp and still wet with Jeanie's saliva, told Slick Jack. "The punk been out all day, V pro'bly be out all night too. Whap!"
"He come to I put 'im out again," growled Jack drunkenly. "Maybe fo' good."
Spider laughed. Tony squinted at the skinny black buttocks moving away from where he lay. He watched Spider retrieve the half-empty alcohol bottle one of the other cons had been drinking from. With the exception of two other men, who stood off to one side involved in a loud chug-a-lug contest, the rapists had staggered drunkenly from the room to the comfortable hospital beds at the rear of the infirmary. Darkness was falling. Outside the chirping of crickets had replaced the bark of loudspeakers, Mid again the place seemed less a prison and more a co-op with gardens. He waited, wondering how long it would take the four men remaining to drink themselves into a stupor. Wondering what he would do when they did.
His gaze settled on Jeanie. His heart leaped. He had expected to find the girl senseless, as unconscious as he was supposed to be, but she was watching him with enormous blue eyes; eyes that were red from crying and black-ringed from lack of sleep. He saw her blink as she realized that he too was playing possum. She bit her full lower lip. Fresh tears sprang into her eyes. Help me, her look seemed to say. I'll do anything you want, only get me away from ... from these awful niggers.
A bottle crashed to the floor at the far side of the room. Tony started, almost giving himself away. He stared hard at the pair in the chug-a-lug contest. One fell back against the wall. His legs buckled. Slowly he dropped to the tiles, sat.
He looked uncertainly about the room, as if trying to locate his position in space, vomited down the front of his T-shirt - the only garment he wore - and leaned far to one side, asleep.
The winner of the contest glanced toward Jeanie, whose succulent bottom, stained with the gook of the orgy, presented an appealing anchorage. He grinned. He reached out, took two unsteady steps toward the operating table, and fell flat on his face.
"Ain't but two real men in the whole fuckm' joint," yelled Spider. He raised his bottle, swayed as he guzzled. Alcohol dripped down his chin. He laughed. Slick Jack joined him, the two slapping each other's back.
Silently Tony cursed the remaining pair. They seemed to have hollow legs - they kept sucking up the pure alcohol, more than enough to stagger a bull, and yet got no drunker. He was stiff from lying in the same awkward position for hours - stiff in another way with thoughts of Jeanie. Furious, he listened to the two men joke about what they'd done to the "white bitch," and what they were going to do just as soon as they finished the bottle. He met the girl's pleading eyes. He couldn't wait any longer; he had to move and depend on the element of surprise.
Jack's dark bloodshot eyes grew as big as half dollars as Tony came off the floor, and rushed them - all in one unbroken leap. Spider turned in time to take the first crashing blow. Again Tony caught him under the chin, sent him hurtling into the straight-backed chair Slick Jack was trying to rise from. Both men went ass over heels.
"Motherfuck ..."Jack began.
It was Tony's turn to edit the sentence, as Jack had done to him at the tag shop. His foot, the toes curled inward to prevent a broken bone, lashed out and caught the tall black at the temple. It stunned Jack. Before he could shake the blow off, Tony lifted the chair and brought it down hard across Spider's shoulders and the ringleader's head.
He stood naked over the pair, arms ridged with tense muscle, the chair raised for another blow. But both men were out; Slick Jack was bleeding from the side of the head, and Spider's shoulder was twisted as if his collar bone might be broken. He felt exhilarated. Revenge was sweet.
"Oh. Oh, I... I ache all o-ver."
He turned in time to watch Jeanie ease herself from the table. Her legs almost gave when her feet touched the floor, and she had to lean against the table to keep from falling. Her face crinkled up, as if she were going to cry again. She stared at him with wide helpless eyes.
Tony listened, making sure no one had heard the commotion. The only sounds in the room were the snores of the man in the far corner, the crickets beyond the window, the faint gurgling of the water cooler in the corridor, and his own labored breathing.
Quickly he set the chair down and strode to the naked girl. He swooped her up in his arms, cautioned her into silence when she started to speak, and carried her to the gap he had cut in the jalousie window the night before.
Jeanie shivered, the night air cooling the sticky sweat on her body. She waited while Tony fought desperately to squeeze his bulk through the opening. He was caught at the waist, his hands, on the concrete at either side of the window, straining to pull the rest of him through.
She almost laughed; a combination of relief and the sight of the brute's muscular buttocks - so different from her own little cheeks - fighting to make themselves small enough to escape. She wanted to help. But when she stepped forward, took hold of his shoulders and tugged, her legs became jelly again and Tony ordered her back. Why was she such a tiny, hopeless thing, she thought woefully. Why couldn't God have made her a man, with strength and a long hose of meat instead of the slit and blonde curls that caused her nothing but trouble? She stood silent and watched, thinking she must be a sight ... her ass bruised and wet... the stupid red ribbon hanging askew in her bush ... hair knotted. She wondered what was going to happen next.
With a loud grunt and a last mighty lunge, Tony came hurtling out onto the grass at her feet. "Jesus!" he hissed, rubbing his skinned buttocks.
"Now you know how I feel," she whispered, recalling how he had forced her round cheeks apart to fuck his dick up her ass. She took the hand he extended, almost toppled when he used her to pull himself up. She waited for him to say something. Instead he draped his arm over her shoulders, almost knocking her down, and stared speculatively into the night.
"I... I think we should go," she offered in a small voice. She was unexplainably happy because they were together again, but afraid Slick Jack and Spider might come around and catch them.
Tony scowled down at her. "Go where ?" "I ... I ..."
"Yeah. That was my thought exactly. We can't go back to the tag shop - they'd look for us there. Plus we got no clothes. We're fucked!"
Boy, was she ever fucked! Jeanie mused. But it had nothing to do with what Tony was talking about. It had to do with her pussy, her asshole, and mouth. Her muddled brain, too. It was as if someone - a whole lot of someones - had fucked a big dick into her head, and now every hole in her body stretched out of shape, inflamed and raw, every other thought in her mind concerned sex.
Like the arm draped casually about her shoulders. Inside her head, with absolutely no help from her, it was being compared to a cock. Tony's was almost that fat - or so it seemed. She glanced furtively down at the loathsome thing. It was no longer as stiff as when he attacked Jack and Spider, but still awesome. Bigger by inches than any of the black rods that had used her. Fatter even half hard than the clubs the prison guards carried in their hip pockets.
"O ... !" Tony looked questioningly into her face. "What the hell's the matter now?"
"N-nothing," she lied. She commanded her voice to behave, to forget about fucking. But that was impossible too; they were naked, alone. And Tony, she knew, expected to be compensated in the same way he had demanded the first time he rescued her from the blacks. It was hopeless. As long as the riot lasted, as long as the prison remained under seige, she could expect only the best of a bad situation. Which meant Tony - belonging to him instead of to the entire prison population.
"C'mon." Abruptly Tony started for the thick brush at the base of the wall behind the infirmary.
Jeanie stumbled. The arm about her shoulders held her upright, but dragged her along as if she were so much excess baggage. She stepped on a stone, yelped. She wasn't used to being treated as Tony was treating her - as if she belonged to him. She wanted to tell him so; she wanted to demand that he treat her with respect, take his greedy hands off her and stop thinking what she knew he was thinking. But the past two days had conditioned her to expect the worst. Silently, she trotted along beside the muscular brute. It was incongruous, absurd. She was out in the night with a naked man, a beast who had violated her; who, she was certain, was anticipating doing it again, maybe worse; and she simply couldn't muster the will to object.
They stepped into the high brush at a spot where Tony could watch the rear of the hospital and the approach to Center, but where they wouldn't be seen. He released her, stared for a moment up at the grim granite wall. He shrugged, looked about the natural enclosure. He scratched his head, faced her. "If we're lucky," he said, "those jerkoffs with the loudspeaker at Center'll sell enough shit to bring the troops over the wall."
She bit her lip, hugged herself. "What ... what'll we do until t-then?"
Tony grunted. He stood rubbing the back of his neck and boldly surveying her nakedness. His dick had gone limp. Now it stirred. His balls looked like hairy pink cannonshot in the dim light. "Make yourself comfortable," he said at last. "Sit down, go to sleep, stand there." Again he shrugged. "It's gonna be a long night, baby. Maybe days yet. Who knows?"
Heart thumping, frightened and happy and confused by the conflicting emotions, she watched him ease his bulk to the ground, stretch out his legs and lean back against the granite. Moonlight slicing through the brush danced on his genitals. Her clit throbbed. Her ass flesh tightened. It was insane - what was she doing there? How could she feel anything like desire when only half an hour ago a roomful of men had abused her? She shivered, lost in her own muddled reasoning, trying desperately to banish the lewd thoughts from her mind.
"Look," said Tony, "it gets cold around here along about midnight. We got nothin' to keep us warm except each other. You gonna stand there like an asshole all fuckin' night?" He offered his hand, patted the grass and leaves beside him.
Jeanie hesitated. She studied his face ... the strong square jaw ... the thick brows and dark eyes that seemed able to look through her. Again she thought that under different circumstances, if not for Mike and like that, she could find him attractive - the perfect sex mate. She felt his gaze on her pussy. How could he think of that at a time like this, she wondered. How could she?
Awkwardly, still holding back, she took his hand, allowed him to pull her down to the blanket of leaves. It was indeed getting cold, she told herself. Already the chill was deep in her bones: hot and cold flashes. She welcomed the arm that went about her, the rough hand grazing her swollen tit. She turned onto her side. Sighing, she threw her arm over his chest, snuggled against him, closed her eyes, and refused to think at all.
Tony remained quiet for a long time. She listened to his breathing, and the sound of the brush being rustled by the faint breeze. The ground was uncomfortable, the wall against her back harsh. But she barely noticed. For the first time since Jack and the others had rushed into the tag shop, she felt - although she didn't know why, couldn't yet evaluate clearly - something she'd never before experienced. It was a warmth that began deep in her belly, spread. In moments, it had dissipated the hurt of two days. She forgot where they were, who he was, who she was. She felt only the hardness of him, the muscle. The hand at her breast.
"That looks stupid," Tony offered at last.
She opened her eyes, followed his gaze to her bush. The lopsided bow did look silly, she had to admit. She looked back into his face.
"Those guys - they don't know the first thing about dunkin' for apples. I could've got it off easy."
It was wrong, she tried to convince herself. What she was feeling was so unlike her - not a "good girl" at all. Yet she could think of nothing but how good it had been when he ate her; when his tongue darted into her cunthole, making her like it. She'd been fucked for two solid days, her body subjected to more abuse than the average woman knew in a lifetime. Still she wanted him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted a man. She didn't care that they were out in the open, with only the bushes to hide them from anyone who might come searching. Dozens of eyes had watched her perform, she reasoned. Dozens of dicks had used her. Out of it all - the humiliation, the horrible pain and the shame - only Tony's wet tongue seemed worthwhile.
"I ... I bet you c-can't," she heard herself dare. "W-with your teeth, I mean."
It was Tony's turn to study her. His gaze swept down her body, back up. A wide grin cut into his face. He moved his hand from her tit, down her rib cage to her belly. He rubbed ... slowly ... gently. His fingertips grazed her cum-crusted wedge. "What-a-ya wanna bet?" he growled.
Her head swam. Her nipples, still sore from the plunger, stood tall. Her cunt ached with the pain of desire. It was as if the two days had never happened; as if this were their first date, and Tony - less brutal now, almost tender - was wooing her into sex. Teasing her. Asking her with his hand to open her legs so he could make love to her slit. She offered her lips. She wanted him to kiss her there before he kissed below. She wrapped her small arms about his broad shoulders and, without waiting for him to initiate the love play, unable to wait, she covered his mouth and threw her leg over his thigh.
Tony's hand slipped lower, finger tapping the top of her gash. She moaned. His free hand crept down her back, down her hip. She felt his palm mold itself to the left side of her ass. She thought of Mike. He too was gentle. But never so good. Never with Mike had she felt the overpowering urge to take a dick into her hand, suck it into her mouth. Something had indeed happened to her since the riot began. Inside she was different. Brazen. Without restraint or compunction. She wanted only to please. To give herself in any way he wanted to take her. Was it love, she wondered. Had her emotions, by some quirk of fate, attached themselves to the man? But no! she decided. That was too simple. She had loved Mike, and what she felt now was different. What was going on inside her was the same giddy sensation she had tried to keep from herself each time her father, her own sweet daddy, came near with his hardon.
Tony broke the kiss, said, "Tell me what you want, honey. Fuck or suck ?"
"Suck!" she answered immediately. "I ... I want you to... to eat me. My p-pus-seee. Like ... oh, just like you did last night at the tag shop. With your tongue, your mouth, your teeth. Undo the bow. Lap me. Please."
"What about me?"
"I - " she hesitated, recalling the awesome length of his rod in her mouth. She stared down at his stiffening monster, gasped. It was growing bigger and harder by the second, coming to life while she watched. She snatched it up in her hand, stroked it. "J-just like we did," she finished breathlessly. "Sixty-nine. Only hurry. Hur-reeeeee!"
Mesmerized, she watched his head glide down her bruised body. She turned onto her back without having to be told, spread her young thighs. Her knees came up by themselves, feet planted wide to raise her ass off the ground. Her cunthole nipped. She could smell herself; the fishy stink wafted up from her sex in an invisible cloud of consent. She watched Tony turn, rearranging his limbs until he lay on his side and the meat in her hand bobbed close. She opened her mouth, trying to suck him in even before he was astraddle her face, and his tongue - the thing she adored almost as much as the thing in her hand - raked across her stretched out of shape, but nonetheless alluring wet gash.
Her breath caught. She fucked herself, her pussy, up into his face, and closed her moist lips over the fiery red tip of his magnificent monster-prick. She sucked the length into her face, gurgled on the fat glans.
"AhhHHHHHH! Ah! Urn! Jesus Christ, baby - you ow! Man, you sure learn quick. Umah! Mother!" Tony's big stinking ass began to grind, humping the stiffness into her throat, down her gullet. His stinkfinger shot up her rear. Like a lion lapping up milk, he began to wash her used pussy, administer to the needs of her clit.
It was heavenly. Wild and mad, and as if she had died and lay on a bed of hot coals in Hades ... in league with the Devil, and doing all the things she had secretly wanted to do since girlhood. Only Satan had reascended. The ground was a cloud in the night sky. Tony's tongue was the archangel's wings batting against her stiff little love bud. The finger deep in her ass was a magic scepter promising immortality. Best of all was the hard dick in her face, slurping in and out; in-out, in-out, faster and harder each time he lunged. The change in her was complete. She sucked in abandon, wanting only to taste his thick cream; to have her own juices mingle with his soothing saliva, and have him replace the spit in her mouth with the salty goo from the sacs slapping down on her nose. Fucking, rape, perversion - she loved it! When the riot ended she'd probably hate herself, she knew. But for now she was glad. Ecstatic. Full of wonder and cock.
Something creepy, a leggy ground creature, crawled onto her ass. She yelped, tried to wiggle it off. It clung. Her movements only spurred Tony on, and held the tickly insect motionless for a moment. Was it a cricket? A centipede ? She envisioned a roach with a hard-on seeking her rectum. Perhaps a dung beetle. She felt it slither into the pinched crack of her bottom, nestle there - almost as if it were a tiny girl-bug, with a cunt, and it too wanted Tony's tongue up its slit.
She moaned and sucked, ashamed of herself, of the fantasy, but unable to resist the kinky thoughts flooding her mind. The cock in her mouth fucked deep, deeper still as she thrashed to shake the tiny night creature loose. Noisily she drew on the hot glans. She imagined it was a long lollypop, and that she was a young girl again. She smelled the acrid stink of his ass. The all-day sucker became a cylinder of head cheese. She drove her hips high ... straining ... hurting herself. Inside her head, in the place where she had stored unwholesome memories, it was Daddy whose tongue was laving her twat; it was his incestuous meat in her face. What would he say when the riot ended and he learned what had happened to her ? Would he be indigant? Jealous, as he sometimes seemed to be jealous of Mike? Would he too recall the lap-sitting days, the long good-night kisses, hugs and hot stares, and regret that he hadn't taken what everyone else had enjoyed?
"Do it!" she gurgled, frantic, approaching orgasm and thinking how surprised her father would be if he could see his little big-girl now. "Oh, suck me good. Hum. Harumm! Ea' me. Ea' me. Oh, ea' meeeeeee!"
Tony grunted compliance into her cunthole. He slipped another finger up her tight rear, opened her delectable sphincters to the night breeze. The crawly thing on her cheek scurried brazenly close to the aperture. Tony seemed not to notice, intent upon filling her needs and slamming his rod down her willing throat.
Jeanie panted, coughed, laughed - torn between loathing and perverted desire. A bug! She was so hot she didn't care that an insect was about to rape her, crawl up her asshole. It was another sensation. Something new. Something not even Slick Jack and the others had thought of. She worked her cheeks on the tiny intruder, coaxing it toward the brown velvet pocket Tony's fingers held open for the nose that sniffed each time his tongue lapped down. She felt the creature's legs at her anus. She felt the antenna probing the dark, the stink. She wrapped her arms tight about Tony's bucking hips, pulled him down, down ... sucking; She threw her legs up, locking her thighs at his neck and making the insect's shitty desire more accessible.
Everything happened at once: Tony gasped, "Baby-ba-beeeeee!" and came down full on her face, cock pissing semen. The curious insect found her chute, burrowed in along with her lover's cruel fingers. Her pussy exploded, yanking her loins high. Everything - the night, the whirling stars overhead, the darling thing tickling its leggy way up her gyrating rear - seemed to pop off. She was being absorbed by the cumworms, changed into, a giant cunt that needed only a dick to survive. She was being reborn. The umbilical cord was deep in her face, reconnecting her with the universe.
Fucking! That's what she had been made for. Nothing else mattered. The taste and the stab of a prick - any prick, just so long as it was fat and hard - the juice gushing hot from her pussy and from big hairy balls, was what made her go.
When it was over she might indeed hate herself, she reasoned., But each time it started anew, ever since the first rape, even with the filthy blacks, the shame and perversion became secondary. Only the moment mattered. The thrill. The overpowering urge to wiggle and thrash toward the next mighty cumload.
"Suck it all out," hissed Tony. "Man! Ah! Ummmmmmmmmmm, fucking good. Goddam! Go, baby. Drink it up."
She didn't have to be told. She couldn't get enough of the gook. She remembered something she'd read while at nursing school - prostate glands! Feverishly she eyed Tony's dark smelly asshole. It was up there somewhere: the cum-trigger. She felt the thing in her own little chute crawling deeper, making her legs tremble, her pussy pop again and again. She wanted it to go on and on and on. For Tony, too.
Quickly she twisted her finger up Tony's ass, heard him roar indignation ... but fucking ... all the time spurting cream in her mouth. She might hate herself later, she reaffirmed, but for now, while the thrills lasted - while her pussy continued to nip at his tongue and his dick continued to shoot: while the sweet crawly thing up her ass continued to tinkle new wonders - she was in love with the act. With sucking and lapping. With being a nurse who administered to sick cocks.