Chapter 7
Maggie fell to one knee as Sammy McLean shoved her roughly into the cell. She turned around to shout something at him, but he had already locked the barred door and was gone. She was so angry she could scream. This time Brady Tilden had gone too far. When Jack found out about it, he would kill him for sure.
She had been in the middle of writing him another letter when Tilden's flunky pounded on her door. When she asked what it was about, he mumbled something unintelligible. All she could make out were the words "Petey" and "dickey dunking". He insisted that she come with him, not giving her any time to change out of her housedress and into some street-clothes. When she tried to resist, he was downright brutal. Finally deciding that it would be easier to deal with Brady than with his mindless gorilla, she had gotten into the patrol car. But she had no idea that she was under arrest until they got to the jailhouse and he threw her in a cell.
She began to pace nervously, like a tiger suddenly imprisoned in too small a cage. Except for a couple of wooden crates, the cell was completely empty. She perched on the edge of one of them for a second and then got up to begin pacing again. A moment later, she heard a key in the door. She whirled in time to see Tilden enter with Sammy McLean right behind him. The sheriff was sweating profusely, as though he had just finished exercising.
"Maggie," the burly lawman began. "This is it! I mean this is really it. I got a county-wide APB out on your brother. And you in more trouble than you even know." Turning to his assistant, he said, "Go search her, Sammy."
The deputy's eye gleamed as he stepped forward. "Turn around and face the wall," he said, placing his hands on Maggie's shoulders. But she had taken all she was going to take. Lashing out at him with her fist, she clouted him on the nose. Sammy looked surprised.
"You keep your filthy hands off me," she demanded. She was enraged.
Tilden was on her in a flash, grabbing both her wrists in one of his powerful hands. He slapped her hard across the mouth, bringing the taste of blood to her tongue. Then he shoved her back against the wall. "Stand on that there box," he commanded. He obviously wasn't kidding around. Numbly, she complied.
The sheriff took his handcuffs from his belt and locked them tight around her wrists. She tried to stifle a gasp of pain, but didn't quite make it. Lifting her hands high above her head, he slid the connecting link of the manacles over a bolt which protruded from the wall. Maggie had to stand on her toes to keep from hanging by the painfully constricting bracelets.
"Now search her like I said," he told Sammy, stepping back to lean against the opposite wall.
When McLean put his hands on her hips, there was nothing she could do. Her arms were stretched high over her head. Every muscle in her body ached with tension. It took all her concentration to keep from sobbing aloud. But she was determined to deprive Tilden of the satisfaction of seeing her weep. Grimly, she bit her lip as the deputy patted her down.
She felt his hands travel slowly up over her abdomen, his fingers moving from side to side as though he were checking for concealed weapons. When he came to the swell of her breasts, he hesitated and took a deep breath. Then, grinning, he cupped each one through the bodice of her dress, using both his hungry hands to knead and squeeze them.
She felt him running his palms over the softness of her titties, his fingertips paying particular attention to the rising buds of her nipples. She wanted to spit in his face. He rubbed and stroked her boobs for much longer than was necessary. Then he ran his hands around to her back and felt her all over.
He cupped and pinched her buttocks, hurting her tender skin. He even ran a finger into the valley between them to probe through the folds of her dress at her anus. She almost gagged. When his fingers finished traveling coarsely over the silken skin of her calves and thighs, he turned to face the sheriff.
"Can't find no guns or nothing," he said. He sounded almost disappointed. "What should I do now?"
Brady Tilden sneered. "Never know with these nigge-rloving bitches," he said contemptuously. "They liable to pick up all kinds of tricks from their darkie husbands. Better check her pussy for razor blades."
Sammy giggled softly at the command. Then he turned to execute it. When Maggie realized that he was serious, she tried to kick him. But when she swung her leg forward, she lost her balance and toppled from the box. She hung there helpless. The handcuffs jerked at her wrists until she thought that she would pass out. Tilden just looked at her for a moment. Then he stepped forward. With a hand which roamed intimately over the curves of her tits, he steadied her and guided her back onto the box. Without warning, he tore open the front of the dress, pulling her garment from her. Within seconds, nothing remained of it. She was totally bare and vulnerable.
"If you give me any more trouble," Tilden threatened. "I'm gonna take that box away." Then, speaking to Sammy McLean, he said, "Now do like I told you. Search her cunt."
Maggie looked down with cold hate blazing in her eyes as Sammy approached her again. She could see her tits rising and falling with the effort of her breathing. She could see her knees trembling with the strain of keeping her balanced. Her cunt was a hairy bull's eye for the lecherous cop. He zeroed in on it with grimy fingers shaking.
She watched him tug her cuntlips apart with his thumbs. He pulled too far, and it hurt. But there was no point in complaining. Bringing his face close to her opening, he peered inside, squinting through one lust-lidded eye. Then he stiffened one index finger and stuck it roughly into her crack.
Her tissues were dry and unyielding, tensing in silent protest at the indignities which she was being forced to endure. But as he rotated his finger and moved it in and out, she began to feel them dampen. She cursed the instinctive reaction at first, but then was grateful for the soothing lubrication which it offered.
The deputy amused himself with her pussy, fucking it slowly with his stiffened finger. He looked like he was starting to drool. She was beginning to get dizzy. He added a second finger to the first and scissored them slowly apart and together inside of her. Her pussy grew even wetter. She could feel the tip of his thumb bump unwittingly against her clit. She was aware of the love button's gradual growth to erection. When Sammy stopped fingering her to turn and face his boss, she almost groaned at the loss.
She hated herself almost as much as she hated the men. She was getting turned on in spite of her humiliation. It seemed to happen every time Brady abused her this way. What was she that she allowed it to happen to her? Was she nothing more than a cunt with arms and legs? A strangled sob escaped from her lips.
"Nothin' in there, chief," Sammy reported. "But it's getting mighty wet."
"What I figured," Tilden said crudely. "All right, turn her around." He stepped forward to help his assistant. Together they lifted her handcuffs off the bolt, pull her feet from the surface of the crate for a long painful moment. Then they set her down and let her hands drop. She tried rubbing them together to restore the circulation, but all she could get from them was a numb pins-and-needles tingling. There was a throbbing ache in her wrists.
Brady let her be for a moment, and then barked, "Face the wall!"
Dumbly, Maggie complied. Her body hurt and her face was red with shame. But she knew that they could make her suffer even more, any time they wanted, and some instinct led her to avoid further pain. At least this way, she wouldn't have to face them.
Before she realized what was happening, Tilden grabbed her wrists once again and hung the bracelets from the bolt over her head. A burning sensation shot through her arms, from her shoulders to the tips of her fingers. She moaned aloud. She heard the two men moving behind her, but lost track of them as she clung tenuously to her consciousness. She heard the sheriff say, "OK Sammy, take a look in her asshole."
Involuntarily, she clenched her buttocks together. This she couldn't allow. Not her ass! It was too intimate. Too personal. It was the only part of her body which they hadn't yet violated. She had to keep them out of it.
When she felt Sammy's hands on her cheeks, she swung her hips to shake him off. Her thighs were quivering with the strain of keeping her balance, but she somehow managed to keep her buttocks squeezed tightly together. He wouldn't touch her there. She wouldn't let him.
Then Brady Tilden stepped up again and kicked the wooden crate out from under her toes. She swung heavily from the handcuffs. Their shiny steel edges cut mercilessly into her skin. "Uuuuuuuhhhhh," she moaned. Within moments, the pain had tranquilized her. She just dangled helplessly, no longer kicking or resisting. Through the blanket of agony which shrouded her brain, she heard the two men laughing.
"Ooohh, Pleeeeease," she whimpered softly. "Hurts ... so .. . much."
Finally the sheriff pushed the wooden box back against the wall. Desperately she groped for it with her feet. But it was way off to her left. She could barely touch it with the toes of one foot. Her other clawed in vain for a toehold in the wall. Her weight still hung from the cuffs.
Tilden watched her struggle for a while and then nudged a second crate against the wall. This one was placed to the right of her. It took her foot a moment to find it. When she did, she found that she could get her weight up off the handcuffs only by balancing herself between the two wooden boxes. The position left her totally helpless. Her legs were splayed wide apart, forming a large uncrossed letter A. At its peak was her hair-covered groin.
She realized that her asshole was totally unprotected, and the thought made her cringe with fear and horror. There was nothing to stop him now. Nothing to preserve the sanctity of her anus. He could have his way with her in whatever perverse manner he chose. There wasn't a thing she could do about it. She was no better off than a slave.
"Let's get on with it," Tilden said to Sammy. "See what she's got up her ass."
The deputy jumped to comply, pinching her cheeks between his thumbs and forefingers until she moaned involuntarily. He pulled them apart to stare at the dark nut of her anus. She could feel his obscene gaze upon her, dirtying her most private orifice with its undisguised hunger. She could sense his hot breath across the tender brown slit.
"Can't see nothing," Sammy complained. "Closed up tighter than a drum."
"Well, stick a finger inside," Tilden ordered. "She won't mind it. Not once you get started." His words stung her like a slap in the face. If there had been a vial of cyanide between her teeth-like the one her husband carried-she would have bitten it right then and there. But there was nothing for her to do but endure.
She felt the deputy's fingertip probing at the self-protective tightness of her anal sphincter muscle. He didn't care whether he hurt her or not. She tried not to whimper as he screwed the stubby digit into her asshole, but the sound came in spite of her resolve. He buried his finger to the second swollen knuckle and rotated it slowly.
She felt as though a tree trunk had been rammed inside there. It hurt. The bony probe stretched the tight walls of her bowel making her ache to the root of her soul. She tried to roll away, but almost lost her balance to fall from the boxes. Gingerly, she transferred her weight from one toe to the other.
Her anal muscles were beginning to adapt to the intruding finger, loosening slightly. The fit was still snug, but it didn't hurt her quite as much. Sammy cackled when he realized it too. "Gettin' to like it," he announced. "Little hole's even asking for more." He rammed his finger harder, not stopping until his palm pressed tight against her buttocks. His other hand reached up to fondle the moist-lipped opening of her cunt.
"Still looks too tight to me," Brady said. "How'm I ever going to get my cock in there?" His words made Maggie's blood run cold. She wanted to jump forward to pull away from Sammy McLean's finger, but she remembered how it felt to hang from the cruel steel of the handcuffs. Biting her lip, she forced herself to accept whatever was coming.
"Better grease it up," Tilden said in a casual tone of voice.
Sammy immediately pulled his finger from her ass. She felt the tight lips of the roiling hole gape open for a minute, flooding her inner rectum with damp air. Then she felt his mouth pressing lightly against it. The tip of his tongue lashed out to wet the outer edges of her anal lips while his hands gripped her hips to hold her in place.
"What does it taste like?" Tilden asked.
Sammy cackled again. "Like shit," he answered. "What do you expect from an asshole." Hungrily, he returned to the slit, this time driving his tongue inside it. She felt the lingual probe exploring her inner depths, and for a fleeting instant ground back against him. Her whole body was starting to glow. Her cunt was flowing freely.
Sammy lapped at the tight brown opening with the blade of his tongue and then penetrated her once more with its thick pink shaft. She felt her ass muscles relaxing, her rectal walls softening before the animalistic tongue-lashing. She fought to hold back a faint sigh of pleasure.
"All right," Tilden said. His words were clipped. "She looks ready. Leave her to me."
"Want me to get out?" Sammy asked, stepping away from her.
"What for?" Tilden said. "You can stay and watch if you want to. Might learn something."
The dispassionate coldness in his tone made her cringe. Was she nothing more than meat hanging there on a hook? She wanted to scream and rail at them. To demand that they leave her alone. But when Brady's fingers began sliding sensuously over the skin of her buttocks, it was all she could do to keep from fainting with desire.
She heard the rasp of his zipper as he slipped out of his pants. She tried to look over her shoulder at him, but the movement brought a twinge of pain to her neck. She remembered the size of his mighty staff, and shuddered at the thought of it plunging into her asshole. But the shudder was not from fear alone.
She closed her eyes and tried to banish from her mind the lewd images which were flickering through it. But when she felt the tip of his prick brushing over the roundness of her asscheek, she saw it all in lurid detail. His hands would pull her buttocks apart while his blunt nosed prick rammed deep into her anus. She hated him for what he was doing. But she couldn't wait for him to start.
Brady held his long naked prick in his hand, sliding it up and down in the moist channel between her buttocks. Her hole was turning outward, flowering slowly open in lewd invitation. He jabbed delicately at it with the dewy tipped head of his cock. Then, with a hunch of his hips, he buried its pointed nose in the tight heat of her asshole.
Maggie drew her breath in sharply, wincing at the pain of his penetration. His cock was even bigger than she remembered. She was sure that it would tear her asunder as it reamed its way deeper and deeper in. But amazingly, her asshole managed to accept it. He drove it forward with jabbing thrusts of his pelvis, hesitating after each plunging stab to allow the tight little opening to adapt.
Every movement that he made brought another wave of pain searing through her loins. She wanted to pull away from him-to lift her body by means of the wall bolt to which she was shackled. But there was a perverse kind of pleasure in it too. She was being taken in the most brutal kind of way. And her body seemed to glory in it, as though it was a role which she had been created to play.
When he drove his hairy groin against her, she leaned back just the slightest bit. She felt the cuffs bite into the smooth skin of her wrists, but the sensation was overpowered by the tearing agony of his penetration. He was in all the way now. There was nothing more he could do to her.
She was trying to keep from howling in depraved pleasure-pain, but she was losing the battle. While he skewered her anus with his dick, one of his hands reached around to fondle her pussy. His touch was almost tender. She felt a fingertip gliding through the syrupy juices of her cunt and then tweaking the sensitive bud of her fuck button. She bumped back against him almost losing her balance. She could feel the wiry pad of hair which covered his loins scouring at her buttocks. Deliberately, she rotated her ass against it.
She was helplessly trussed, her arms pulled tight over her head and her legs spread to open both her holes to him. Her involuntary submission freed her of guilt. She remembered the old proverb: when rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy it. Somehow she managed to banish all rational thought to a deeply hidden filing cabinet in her mind. She gave herself over to lust.
It was obvious that Tilden sensed the change in her. As soon as her mind gave up the struggle he began cooing softly. "Now that's a sweet little cunt," he crooned, barely loud enough for her to hear. "My cock is all the way up your ass and it's gettin' ready to go off. I'm going to fill your belly with my cum. But this time you're going to cum with me." Raising his voice, he said, "Sammy, move them boxes."
In a daze, his deputy rushed to obey. Maggie felt a rush of terror as she realized that there would be nothing to keep her arms from pulling out of the sockets. But the sensuous cravings which were mounting in the pit of her belly made her forget all her fear. It wouldn't matter if she died. So long as she died cumming.
When Sammy McLean kicked the boxes out from under her, she prepared herself for the wrenching pain which would certainly follow. But it never came. Instead of the boxes, Tilden's cock was holding her up. Her weight fell heavily upon it, burying it like a spear in the fresh raw meat of her asshole. She grunted as it drilled to the center of her bowels.
She tried to wrap her legs around him, but her position made it impossible. His cock was swelling up inside her anus, stretching the tormented membranes even further. And she loved it.
His finger was strumming her clit, making her squirm with mounting passion. Each twisting movement of her ass drove his prod even deeper into her belly. Her cunt was like a faucet which was opened full blast. Heated dew rushed from it, rolling down the insides of her thighs to make her sticky and wet all over. But she hardly noticed.
He clit was bigger and harder than it had ever been before. His hands were playing her like an instrument. As he fingered the swollen button, he rubbed and stroked the lips of her pussy. Skillfully, he manipulated her until she jumped and twitched on his rod like a stick puppet. She could feel the thickness of him tearing her roiling ass channel as he prepared to spit his load of gism in her shit box. She was riding with him, bucking and rolling willingly before the onslaught of his mighty dick.
Her cuntlips spread wide open as he stuck two and three fingers at a time into the heat of her pussy. Her clit pounded rhythmically, its drumbeat taking her higher and higher and higher. She wasn't rising above the pain, but it was somehow becoming part of the pleasure. It was getting ready to happen. She was going to cum. She was going to explode.
She felt the first heated spurt of gism fill her asshole with its stickiness as his dick began to spit. She didn't hold it back any longer.
"Aaaaaaaiiiiiiiyyyyyyy," she wailed as her passionate feminine orgasm began. She dropped down onto his cock and then pulled herself up off it again, ignoring the ache in her shoulders. She stroked his turgid rod with the lips of her tightly clenching anus, wringing jet after jet of semen from its tip. She sighed and she sobbed. She howled and she hollered. She let a river of cum juice roll from the lips of her cunt. His hand was covered with it. Some flowed back to coat the base of his dick.
For a moment they were lovers, sharing the ecstasy of mutual orgasm. It was glorious. It was stupendous. It was better than anything she could ever remember.
But it was temporary. After his penis finished shooting its load, it softened inside her. Her climax coasted to a stop. There was no longer a rigid pole of man meat supporting her weight. She was hanging from her wrists again, her whole body wracked with pain. She felt Brady's peter slip flaccid from her asshole as his hands left her cunt. She remained suspended without support, her moans of pleasure having changed to groans of agony.
She waited for them to put the boxes back under her feet. But to her horror, neither of them made a move to do so. Instead, Tilden drawled, "Not a bad piece of ass, after all. Sammy, why don't you take a turn while I go looking for Luke. Don't think he'd want to miss this."
She screamed once, but no one seemed to give a damn.