Chapter 9
The cabin was the logical choice. Diane remembered the big cupboard stocked with canned food left behind the day Tony and the others were taken into custody. She remembered also the quiet isolation-the woods, the trees, the highway like a concrete snake curled sleeping at the foot of the steep rise the cabin looked down from. Skeet had said the hideout belonged to his folks, but he and Greta were the only ones who used the place nowadays. Now, with the thugs in jail, she supposed she'd have the four rooms to herself-could stay as long as she liked, thinking, living off the foodstuffs and the little money she'd managed to save in the short time she'd worked at Uncle John's store. With these thoughts in mind, Diane set out to hitchhike to Palos Verdes.
In tight yellow bellbottoms and a matching halter, and a small overnight bag containing two changes of clothes and cosmetics, she had no trouble getting a ride. The trouble came when the driver-a rotund, balding businessman, whose cock had begun to rise immediately when she stepped into the car-suggested she move closer and "be nice to him." Diane refused. The man bristled and tried to maul her. Next thing she knew she was walking the last lonely miles.
It was dark and she was exhausted when at last she reached the road leading up through thick brush to the cabin. There was a chill in the air. She shivered. Envisioning the thick warm mattress where Tony had raped her the first time, she summoned the strength to climb the steep road. Would there be lights, she wondered. Electricity? Or had the police, or perhaps the utilities companies, turned off the lights and water and whatever else they took back when the bills weren't paid? The thought frightened her. She didn't think she'd be able to persuade herself to stay long in a dark lonely cabin.
To Diane's astonishment, as if someone had anticipated her fears, she saw lights in the cabin. She stopped at the top of the road. Had Skeet lied, she wondered. Did the place belong to someone else, after all? "Oh, darn!" Now a new fear engulfed her. She was too tired to walk back to the highway and begin hitchhiking again. And even if she somehow mustered the courage, the strength, there was no place to go except back to Uncle John. "Oh, darn! Darn!" she blurted, eyeing the cabin with envy, thinking how pleasant, how warm, it must be inside, and knowing she'd never summon the moxie to approach the door and present herself to strangers.
Stifling a sob, a mixture of anger and regret, she parked her butt on a huge cold rock beside the road. Chewing her lower lip, wondering who the man was at the window, she stared longingly at the place she'd never in her wildest dream expected to return to.
Inside the cabin, Tony squinted through the window at the blurred yellow figure crouching at the far end of the drive. He frowned. "Hey, Skeet."
Lazily Skeet joined him at the window. Both men stared at the motionless yellow blob until Sammy, playing strip poker with Greta, literally losing his shirt, pushed his chair back and asked, "What the fuck's goin' on? Fuzz?"
Tony scowled darkly back at him. "We're clean, stupid. They got no kick; us being out on bail."
"Too small for fuzz," observed Skeet. "Looks like a chick. Hey!" He brightened. "Maybe it's the wood fairy!"
"Maybe it's your Aunt Tessie," grumbled Sammy.
"My Aunt Tessie's a good cunt," countered Skeet. "She's home humpin' right now."
They parried and watched the motionless figure for several minutes before Tony decided to sneak out the back door, flank the drive, and come up behind whoever was spying on them. Without mentioning his scheme, he left the others at the window. He paused in the kitchen for a flashlight before stepping out into the cool night air, and deep, woodland shadows.
Diane was doing her best to hold it in. But she had to pee so bad she could no longer think of anything else. Leaving her overnight bag at the side of the road, she scurried into the thick brush, quickly undid her bells, pushed pants and panties down to her knees, and squatted. She sighed relief as the stream gushed from her pussy. But she had barely begun when the bright beam of light fell upon her, made her gasp and jump up-pissing all over her clothes. Someone wolf-whistled. The circle of light advanced from out of the brush.
"Who... who is it?" squeaked Diane, face burning with shame, trying unsuccessfully to shimmy the sopping wet garments up over her nakedness. There was no answer. The light continued to advance until she could see the broad-shouldered figure of a man behind it. Frightened, expecting the worst, she stepped back to find to her horror she could move only in mincing steps with the icky clothes bunched at the top of her thighs. Her foot encountered a rock. She was bending for the weapon when a deep, scratchy, familiar voice brought her up short.
"I'll be goddamned," laughed the voice. "My little blonde pussy's back. And already she's got 'er pants down 'n' ready to screw."
Diane couldn't believe her ears. "T-T-Tony?" Suddenly the flashlight went out. She almost screamed. Instead, she lifted one hand to her mouth, held her breath, and waited for... for... for the rough hand that finally cupped at her crotch, unmindful of the pussy hair and clothes, and the other hand that pressed her buttocks forward.
"Jesus!" groaned Tony, kneading her ass flesh, her puffy pubic mound. "I almost forgot how soft you are. But now I remember why I snatched you in the first place." His middle finger slipped smoothly up her cunthole.
Oh God! thought Diane. What had she done? Could it be possible? Had she actually delivered herself-like a lamb to the slaughter- into the hands of the brute who'd started it all-the cause of the confusing knots inside her head? "Oh, no. Not again," she whispered, not knowing why, not at all disturbed by the tingles the finger stabbing her pussy was causing.
"I knew you liked it," said Tony. "Even the first time yer fuckin' cunt was as tight as a closed clam, but you hardly let out a peep once I was in. But Christ! Who'd ever guess you'd be back?" Pulling her close, he began to rub the half-hard bulge in his pantsleg against one naked thigh.
Diane tried not to think about the perversions Tony had subjected her to. But the thing rubbing her leg was bringing back visions of four days of screwing, and belts, and tongues. A squirt of hot pee burst from her cuntlips. "Ow-ow-owwwwwww," she breathed, horrified that someone, particularly Tony, should witness that most private function.
Tony seemed not to notice or care that she had pissed on his hand. Slipping his finger from her sheath, he cupped the underside of both plump cheeks of her ass. "Take out my cock," he told her. "We'll put something up there for a plug. So you won't have to pee."
Diane hesitated. But she knew there was no sense in resistance; no mercy in Tony. He'd merely take her, she knew-use her body as he and the others had done for four terrible, seemingly endless days.
The others! It suddenly dawned in her mind that if Tony had returned to the cabin, Sammy and Skeet and Greta must be there, too.
"Take it out!" growled Tony, driving the bulge in his pantsleg into the space atop and between her naked young thighs.
Obediently Diane's hand flew to his fly. Quickly, but with trembling fingers, she worked the zipper. She was lost, she realized; a slave since the day the three thugs walked into Uncle John's store. But as her hand fumbled inside the pants, found and closed around his stiffening dick, caressed the fat glans and moved slowly up and down the long shaft, she felt pleasure, not revulsion. Pleasure in the knowledge that good cum was waiting in the wrinkled sacs her fingers grazed with each stroke of her hand. Pleasure in anticipation. Sheer joy in the knowledge that soon they'd be fucking.
Pushing the piss-soaked slacks and panties down her legs, Tony told her to step out of the garments. Again she obeyed. He walked her backward, guiding the soft halves of her ass to rough bark of a tree. "Now put it in for me," he told her. "Up yer cunt! Let's fuck before the others find out you're here."
Unable to resist, not wanting to anymore, Diane whimpered and steered the plumb-shaped knob of his swipe to her cuntlips. She set it in place. Spreading her thighs, leaning back, using the tree for support, she began to work her pussy taking him in... drawing the tip of his long veiny prick up her hot little hole. "Oh G-God!" she gasped, coming already, head spinning.
Tony wasn't gentle. But he had never been gentle, Diane recalled as he grunted and squeezed her plump ass and fucked himself into her. His cock seemed less big now, less awesome. She supposed that was because Uncle John's long rigid rod was fatter and more handsome by inches. Yet the one digging into her sex was no piker. It grated across her hard clit with as much delicious sensation as any she'd had. It burrowed up, up... all the way up her pulsing vagina. It jerked and throbbed. It breathed inside her. "Yes!" she heard herself saying. "Oh, yes! Yessssssssss!"
Moving his hands under her buttocks, taking a firmer grip, Tony's strong arms lifted the weight off her legs. "Ummra!" he groaned. "Put um! Ahhhhhh! Put yer legs up. Around my waist. It's-mother, you're so fucking tight! It's good fucking like that-standing with you like a sweet Kewpie doll on a stick."
"It... it won't work. I'll fall."
"Get 'em up!" Tony's fingernails dug cruelly into the tender halves of her ass.
"Owwwwwwwwww!" Tentatively, Diane raised one trembling leg. Then, using the tree for support, in answer to the rough hands splayed on her bottom, she threw the other leg up and locked her ankles. The cock up her belly seemed to grow longer and plant its hot jerking tip deeper than any had ever before invaded.
"Now fuck," sighed Tony, the hardness gone from his face. He made the deep-throated pleasure sounds she remembered. His fingers slipped into the open crack of her ass. One found the rear entry. "M-make that sweet blonde pussy bite," he hissed, twisting a smaller dart up her rectum. "I ain't had none this good in so fucking long it .. it... oh, girlie! Sweet little girl girlie! Fuck!"
"I love you," breathed Diane, knowing he was beyond hearing, beyond caring what she said, but wanting nonetheless to express the emotions his hands, his big pulsing dick, were stirring. Her body felt light, charged with electricity, more alive than ever before. Her tight cunthole snapped. Her puckered asshole sucked his finger. For a moment she wished the halter was off so she could feel the texture, the scratch of his shirt against her taut, aching nipples. She wished he was nude. She wished Sammy would find them, as he had done the first day more than a month before, and come up behind to put a stiff prick in where the finger taunted her rectum. It was as if the month between her rescue and now had never happened. She was his again. His to defile, to debase, to degrade, and shame and violate in any way he chose.
"Faster!" demanded Tony. "Fuck faster! Screw that sweet cunt aroun' like there's no tomorrow!" Planting his feet wide apart, giving himself more room, more leverage, he began to hump the length of his rod in and out of her pussy... slamming her soft round buttocks against the rough bark of the tree... grunting with each lunge... hurting... bruising.
"Humhhhhmm!" Diane felt only the bliss, the fire, the friction of the dick stoking her furnace. She wiggled-fucking with all her might, mind and body untied to bring him to orgasm. "I'll never forgot you," she sobbed. "The... the first time. The ohah! The way you took me. The rape. Even with... even when someone else fucked me. No matter who it was I thought about you. It... oh, Tony! Oh G-God!" She felt the knob of his mighty cock swell and jerk in the slippery depths of her sheath-fucked her hips, her cunthole, even faster. "You... you were on my mind all the time. Your dick! The way it shoots off. The... the way you hurt me. The t-things you and the others made me do. Fucking! Fucking and sucking and oww! OWWW! Oh, do it, Tony. Do it! Doit!" Wrapping her arms tight at his neck, tightening her legs at his waist, she rested her head in the crook at his shoulder and gyrated furiously.
Pulling far back, Tony slammed into her. Sweat broke on his brow as his long veiny dick dipped again and again in her hot juicy hole. The pants were a hindrance. But even through the material Diane could feel his big hairy balls growing tense with the force of the cum-load her tight cunt was coaxing. The hands on her ass pulled her close with each forward stab, forcing her onto him. The brass teeth of the zipper at his fly bit into her vulva, her thighs. But she felt only the exquisite driving goodness, only the thrust of his swipe.
"Ba-beeeeeee!" Tony sought her moist, parted lips. Their mouths fused. His tongue began to piston in time to his cock and the finger fucking her asshole. Then suddenly the dick in her belly stopped pistoning. It held at the roots. The hands on her bottom became cruel steel claws. She gasped. Batting her inner cunt muscles on the vibrating shaft, she sucked his tongue and held her breath in anticipation of the first thick gush of cream.
It seemed to take forever. Her lungs, she was certain, were going to burst through her chest and leave her firm little pink-tipped breasts shredded like blowouts in an old rubber inner tube. She worked her ass frantically; bumping, grinding, milking the fat glans of his magnificent cock... the meat she had dreamt about since her rescue... the wonderful big veiny joystick that had busted her cherry.
The first nugget of jism geysered into her. Tony gasped spit tasting of tobacco and what she supposed was the stale flavor of alcohol, into her mouth. Moaning, pinching his waist in the vise of her thighs, and kneading his spitting dick in the tighter, hotter, silkier vise of her vagina, Diane gulped the saliva-as if it were semen. She squealed and made her cunt suck his thick cream. She felt it glide down the walls of her sheath... out, searing the puffy pink lips of her pussy, and dripping wet and sticky down the crack of her ass. She sucked his foul-tasting mouth. She worked her stomach... making it ripple... making the ripples spread through her sex until the tiny hard-on within, her sensitive clit, began to fire the love lights, the multicolored glare, the thrill, the fireworks of orgasm bursting like Chinese New Year's inside her head.
Panting, Tony rested. Until the last gooey spurt of love-juice had dripped down her crotch. Until the world came back into focus for Diane. Finally, the hardness, the cruelty returning to his face, he said, "That was good, baby. You learned a few things since last time. Now put your legs down."
Diane recognized the tone Tony had used previously when about to subject her to his most perverse desires; the tone Sammy and Skeet and Greta had used when wielding the belt. Quickly she obeyed... knowing she had no choice... knowing he'd make her comply, hurt her, if she displayed the slightest resistance. Her thighs were weak. She held tight to his neck to keep from falling. What would he do to her now, she wondered, heart thumping, shivering in anticipation.
Abruptly Tony slipped his dick-still stiff, covered with white smelly gook-from her cunt-hole. "Now on yer knees!" he ordered. "Let's see if yer sweet little mouth learned anything about cock-sucking since last time!"
Sammy and Skeet were preparing to go outside in search of Tony when the back door opened and the bright yellow blur from End of the drive stepped inside the cabin. Tony followed close behind. He grinned. "Look what I found," he said and nudged Diane forward. Sammy and Skeet stared. Diane felt their lustful gazes boring into the dampness at the crotch of her bellbottoms. A shiver of excitement raced through her body. She blushed. That she and Tony had been making love was obvious, she knew. And she could almost read the thoughts behind the eyes ogling her-get those slacks off her ass! Let's see if that little blonde pussy has changed any! Our turn! Our fucking turn!
Greta, who had been sitting in bra and shorts at the folding card table, came forward with the half-jealous, half-friendly grin Diane remembered on her dark, pixy face. The two exchanged curious glances-the thirteen-year-old, Diane supposed, wondering what had brought her back to the place where she'd been subjected to abuses that would make a normal girl cringe. But I'm not a normal girl anymore! thought Diane. I haven't been normal since the day Tony put his big dick up my hole!
Suddenly Greta smiled. Stepping close, she took the overnight bag from Diane's hand, set it down in a corner, and placed her own little fingers in the warmth the handle had vacated. "We needed another girl," she said, indicating the deck of cards scattered about the small heap of clothes on the table. "And-" she cocked her head and looked impishly up from a two-inch discrepancy in height-"well, I'm glad it's you instead of someone else."
The four spent the next fifteen minutes explaining to Diane about the bail that had been arranged through Skeet's influential parents. True, they might go to jail eventually, Tony said. And Greta had missed being placed in a foster home by the "skin of her teeth!" But they would remain free on bail 'til the trial, months away. And, Tony further explained, because they were first offenders, and because of the big money Skeet's father was liberally salting on ruffled feathers in all the right places, they might beat the rap altogether.
After a few minutes of prying, Diane explained her reason for running away; told how she had opened her eyes that morning to find Uncle John's homemade shackle and dog chain securing her to the bedboard.
Leering, echoing Fred, Skeet murmured, "Can't blame the ole geezer for that!"
Greta cast him a dark sidelong glance. She opened her mouth, as if to protest, as if to tell her brother her little midnight black pussy was the only hot hairy hole he'd get his dick into this night. Sammy came to the rescue. "So now we can finish our game. Five-handed draw. Two cunts. Cool!"
Diane had never before played strip poker. But it appeared simple enough. Until the first hand was dealt, she lost with three jacks, and one of her shoes joined the heap of clothes on the table. But she didn't really care about losing. The pissy slacks were uncomfortable-stank and were stuck deep in the crack of her ass. And she knew what was going to happen, knew the goal of the game once the garments were shed.
It took less than five minutes to get her down to wet panties and halter. Then Greta lost three hands in a row, shed her bra, shorts and panties. And Sammy-dealing from the bottom of the deck, Diane could see-his boxer shorts the only garment remaining, explained that, once stripped, the player with the lowest hand was at the mercy of the one with the highest spread.
The room grew silent. Diane felt lightheaded. Beside her, Skeet, the head of his stiff swipe held in check by the elastic waistband of the shorts that were his last garment also, reached beneath the table and touched her knee. She glanced sharply at Greta. But the younger girl now was absorbed in the cards she held and didn't seem to notice her brother's strong, curious fingers... inching higher and higher... closer and closer to the curly white-blonde wedge he hadn't fucked a dick into since the day of her rescue.
"Two pair!" announced Greta confidently.
Sammy laughed. One by one he spread his cards on the table. They were all spades, ten to ace. He took out his prick, stroked it until it stood tall. "Sit on my lap," he said as the other hands, all higher than the dark-haired girl's two pair, fell.
Greta scowled. "Fucking creep cheat bastard!"
"Rules're rules!" growled Tony.
Greta pouted. Reluctantly she stood, giving them a glimpse of an adorable, tiny, pink-slitted black wedge. Her dimpled behind settled in Sammy's lap at the same time the hand on Diane's inner thigh reached the legband of the panties.
Clamping her thighs tight on the dart tickling her clit, Diane watched Tony lean toward Sammy and screw his middle finger up Greta's cunthole. The younger girl grimaced and squirmed. Sammy hugged her close. His calloused hands covered her big-nippled, little-girl breasts. "Iiiiiiiii!" the girl breathed, squirming as Sammy lifted, centered the tip of his rod, and let her gaped open cheeks slowly down on the fiery stake.
Diane could almost feel the dick sliding up her tight asshole. The expression on Greta's flushed face, the noises she made as the poker penetrated, made the insides of her own rectum contract... just as if Sammy were reaming her. The miniature spike in her forebelly became more insistent. She gasped and leaned forward, pressing the hand, Skeet's fingers, into her sex. She watched Sammy fuck the younger girl's cute little behind, saw Tony bend, face close to the ebony curlicues, and wished Skeet would take his finger away, loose the fat glans of the cock protruding from the top of his shorts, and fuck it as fast as he could up her dripping pussy.
Apparently Skeet read her thoughts. For while Tony and Sammy went to work in earnest on the dark-haired girl, making her thrash, cry out in ecstasy, he leaned close, lips to her ear, and whispered, "C'mon babydoll. Get those panties off 'n' make like Sis. On my lap!"
Diane hesitated only long enough to ascertain that Greta was too involved, too content with the swipe in her rectum and the tongue washing her vulva, to care what her brother was doing. The younger girl had thrown her legs wide, she noted. Now, when she raised up in preparation of grinding herself down the lengthy meat in Sam's lap, Diane could see the shit-smeared cylinder of stiffness digging between the tense tender halves of the girl's adorable ass. Her breath caught. Eyes glazed, gaze riveted to the scene, she rose from the chair, pushed the panties off her hips, down her thighs, and stepped out of the pissy undergarment. As if mesmerized, as if already impaled by the big dick causing such obvious pleasure in the dark-haired girl, she waited while Skeet stripped off the shorts. Then she allowed herself to be steered onto his lap, allowed herself to be turned to face him, felt her thighs' being spread and willingly straddled his legs. Her hand shot out and captured his cock and guided the bloated red tip to the pulsating pink pocket below her hot and curly, anxious, white-blonde wedge.
"Owwwwwwwww!" She felt the glans penetrating... going deeper, deeper. She held the thick shaft and fucked herself down, pleading, telling him with her hips, her buttocks, her tight nipping pussy, to drive the whole of his lovely member up her belly.
"Easy, baby. Christ! You sure learned how to please a guy since last time I shoved my meat in you. But... ah! Ah fuck-go easy! Slow! You... ah! You'll make me pop off before I get the fucking thing halfway in."
Diane couldn't speak. The fire from the tip of his rod had reached her throat. And she couldn't go slow, either. She couldn't do anything except what she now was doing... grinding her hips, her tight cunthole, onto his big hard cock. Her fingers yanked at the roots of the monster, hand trying to push the meat deeper while her pussy pulled, sucked. It was so good! she thought elated. So breathtaking to watch and listen to fucking, to hear the slurp of a tongue, while a swipe-any swipe so long as it was long and rigid and capable of spitting-was being humped up her hot little gash.
Tony stood. His mouth, the whiskers on his chin, glistened with cuntjuice. Whipping his dick from the fly of his pants, he held it and stepped close to the girl in Sam's lap. "Your turn!" he told her. "Suck!"
Diane watched the younger girl form a wide 0 with her lips, watched Tony step closer and fill the moist space with the knob of his tool. She heard Greta gurgle. Rising up, almost standing, she sobbed and drove herself down the length of the prick in her belly... watching, all the time eyeing the other big prick, the one that had fucked her and planted cum in her face less than an hour before, disappear into the dark, young pixy face. "Oh God. Oh Mother of Jesus, I... I..."
"What? Lemme hear it," said Skeet.
"I wanna suck! I... I..." Whining, unable to finish what she'd begun to say, not sure what it was, she mashed her open lips to Skeet's mouth. She waited for his tongue. When it shot forward, she caught it between her teeth, held and sucked-as she had sucked Tony's tongue earlier, as if it were the tip of a swipe. Her own brazenness astonished her. She knew, when it was over, once the cum gave her momentary release, she'd feel the tongue of shame lick her cheeks with fire. But now she cared only about the tongue in her mouth, and the rigid rod, the dick, swabbing her vulva. She couldn't stop. Couldn't stop lifting her ass and forcing her cunthole down. Couldn't help savoring the delicious friction caused by the beautiful man-meat digging in the slippery folds of her sheath. Couldn't stop fucking, fucking, fucking as Tony had directed, like there was no tomorrow!
"Ah! Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Wrapping his arms tight about her waist, hugging the breath from her lungs, Skeet groaned into the moist warmth of her mouth and pumped his stiffness up off the chair. Across from them, the chair rocking from the girl's frantic gyrations, Sam and Greta and Tony were reaching orgasm simultaneously. The noises they made-particularly the dark-haired girl's loud, greedy sucking-shoveled fresh coal onto the fire burning in Diane. A soothing, gauzy warmth absorbed her. She tore her lips from Skeet's and watched the room, Tony and Sammy and Greta, spin. The window behind them, the door, the card table and heap of clothing seemed to sway with their tense limbs. Her body was a metabolism apart from it all. It rose and fell, twisted and strained, bucked and wiggled and rippled. "Kiss my tits!" she told Skeet, lifting the halter to bare her bright pink nipples. "Suck 'em! Bite! Hurt meee!"
Setting a steady fuck rhythm, a motion designed to bring them over the brink, Skeet mouthed one hard little rosebud. His teeth clamped tight. "Umram! Tastes good. A cherry on top of whipped cream. Everything-" he paused to run loving hands along the inside of her alabaster thighs-"about you is whipped cream. Good enough to eat. Ummmmmm!" Nipping the tip of her tit, he shook his head like a dog drying itself.
"Oh, yes! Yes! Suck it! B-b-bite!" Diane heard Greta's gurgle of satisfaction as Tony humped jism into her sweating, little-girl face. She heard Sammy gritting his teeth, making the chair rock back and forth on its legs, interspersing the sounds with grunts as he planted cum in Skeet's sister. And she heard Skeet lapping her nipples now, his slick rod slurping in and out of the juicy gash between her wide-spread thighs. She trapped his meat, held the knob embedded, and strained for the nut she knew was climbing the pole toward the tiny aperture breathing within her vagina.
"Com-ah! AHHH! I... I'm come-come-com-ing!" Skeet's teeth sank deep in her tender nipple.
"Ow! Ow-ow!-ow-owwwwww!" blubbered Diane from the pain and the jet blasting off up her pussy. The hot fluid spewed from the glans of his cock, seeped down the shaft using her cunthole, touched her clit and sent tremors through her white, quivering thighs.
Coming! she thought. The whole world-the cabin walls, the overhead light, the table, the chairs. There were lovely dicks everywhere. Wonderful joysticks spitting good cream. Semen. Buckets and buckets of thick goo. All of it, every last delicious drop, it seemed, was gushing into her twat, filling her to overflowing with the stuff she desired.
It was late. They'd eaten and slept, and now, she and Greta alone in the bed where Tony had given her the first wondrous taste of screwing, Diane heard the men-no! Mere boys! They weren't much older than her, she'd learned- moving about in the next room, talking in whispers. She glanced about the dark bedroom. They'd mended the window, she noted. A clear pane, the only one not flecked with rainspots, looked out on a skyful of stars. A smiling moon cast a bright yellow mist atop the trees-the branches black fingers fading into the night.
She glanced from the window to the small girl asleep on her side, curled like an infant beside her. She studied the calm pixy face. Now, in sleep, it was difficult to believe this child was the same wildcat she'd watched making love a few hours before. Her immature body seemed incapable of withstanding the brutal thrust of a man.
Diane stretched and sighed. Her body was sore, bruised from Uncle John, Fred that afternoon, and Skeet's pounding. Lately it seemed she did nothing but screw. She'd run away to think, to sort things out, she reminded herself. Yet there she was-nude, the cum hard in the hair of her pussy, and the boys, the three pricks that would come sniffing her sex before sunrise, she knew, in the next room. But she cared not at all. Even the ache in her limbs, the stiffness of back when she stretched, were pleasant memory triggers. Each bruise held the image of another stiff cock.
She turned toward the dark girl asleep beside her. The big-nippled breasts made her mouth water. For a moment she wished she were a man; the possessor of a long, veiny swipe, a hard tool capable of spitting thick cream in the midnight black wedge between the girl's slim young thighs. Impulsively, she reached out. Her thumb and forefinger closed on one bright pink nipple. She snuggled closer. Her free hand slipped down the younger girl's flat belly, paused. The ebony curls were wiry-like cock-hair! she decided. Not at all like the silky white-blonde wedge atop and between her own fuller thighs.
Greta stirred. Diane waited breathlessly for the minx to settle into slumber once more. Now there was a new, stranger, more demanding compulsion within her. Her fingers moved through the coarse hair... to the slight indentation... to the sweet dip announcing the delightful split in the hot little black pussy beside her. Moving closer still, close enough to mouth the nipple she'd teased erect, she slipped one fingertip cautiously up between the girl's cuntlips.
"Urn, Skeet. Ummm!" cooed Greta.
The girl was dreaming, Diane knew, dreaming of her brother's dick in her belly. The thought excited her. She sucked harder on the dark girl's miniature tittie. Lately everything illicit aroused her, it seemed. She worked her finger deeper... searching for the sensitive bud within the tight sheath. God! Was her own cunt that close, she wondered. It seemed impossible that the swipe that had drilled her love hole earlier, Skeet's bloated penis, could penetrate the fiery little gash her finger was probing. Yet she knew better... knew the fantastic elasticity of her own vulva, and had seen the younger girl take as much as a man had to give.
"Ow. Ow, Sammy." Abruptly Greta rolled onto her back. Her short legs flew open. She moaned and lay still. Diane gasped at the sight of the vulnerable young body lying open before her. Now she could understand why Tony, why Uncle John, why the others had looked at her with burning desire. Her own pussy pulsed. Her nipples stood tall. She slipped further down on the bed... down to where a shaft of moonlight cut across the black wedge... down to where she could peer into the wet slit her finger was fucking.
For a moment, positioned between the girl's widespread thighs, face close to the pinkness so like yet unlike her own, Diane was content to smell and explore with her eyes. But soon Greta began to thrash-the excited love dance Diane knew so well-in her sleep. Her narrow hips rose to meet the dipping finger. Her breathing quickened.
Diane couldn't resist any longer. Grinding her hips, her cunt, into the rumpled sheets and wool blanket, she inched closer. The younger girl's pussy was exquisite. There was just enough light to see the bud standing like a sober watchman inside the pouting lips. The black hair, almost blue black, shiny, short and springy, was a perfect frame for the aperture. And the smell! The aroma was unlike her own gentle fragrance. This was a stronger, fishy stink, which was at once repulsive and appealing. "Oh God!" she moaned into the breach, ashamed of her uncontrollable desires. She withdrew her finger. "I m-mustn't!" she said. "I mustn't! Oh, I mustn't!"
But her mouth, ignoring the words it spoke, thick with saliva, opened and covered the sweet little cunthole dripping goo down the deep crack of Greta's ass. She gulped. The taste was intoxicating. She recalled how Fred and Uncle John had blown hot air up her pussy. She drank deep of the stink, the tangy flavor, and blew with all her might up the girl's flat belly.
"Owwwwww!" Greta tried to sit up. "Hey!
Wha...?"
Diane lifted her face from the sweetness she'd been sucking. "I... I c-c-couldn't help it," she choked, throat full of cuntjuice, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. "It... you... I just... oh, darn! You were so lovely 'n' all. I... I just couldn't... I mean oh! Oh, darn it, anyway!" Tears sprang into her eyes and rolled hot down her cheeks.
Greta studied her for a moment. Finally she giggled. "It's okay," she said in a small, appealing voice. "Skeet eats me all the time. The others, too. All of them. I... I guess I sorta like it. You can if you want to. I... I like you, too."
Diane hugged the girl's hips. As suddenly as it had come, the attack of conscience, of revulsion, was gone. Now she felt only passion. Lust. A need. A compulsion to do something... something dirty! Quickly she placed her mouth over the juicy gap it had vacated, sucked.
"Ummmmmm!" Greta pumped her hips off the bed. "I... I like that. But you should let me eat you, too. Like... owwwwww! Like turn around. We... ah! We can do like I do Skeet. Sixty-nine. It's ohoh! It's no fun unless I'm sucking, too."
Quickly Diane obliged. Straddling the younger girl's face, knees wide on either side of the dark head, she lowered her cunt and dove back into the heated pocket between Greta's slim, white, bathed in moonlight thighs. Her tongue lashed out at the same moment a wet dart parted the lips of her pussy. "Oh, y-y-yes!" she sobbed. "Ohhhhh!"
They had barely begun when the door crashed back against the jamb, and Sammy-hands on hips, limp cock, like a hunk of bleached rubber, dangling from the open fly of his shorts-appeared at the foot of the bed. "Our two cunts're at it fer true," he blurted. "Holy fuckin' mother! Hey, guys! Get in here 'n' fuckin' lookit this!"
Diane's tongue leaped from the other girl's black pussy. Too late! Even before she could wipe the goo from her face, before she could rearrange her body, the three boys had pounced upon the bed-were laughing and making crude jokes, poking stiff fingers into her ribs, her ass, her breasts, and worse... suggesting she and Greta continue.
"Okay!" said Greta simply. She giggled. She looked from her brother to Diane's burning face. "What's the difference who watches? Besides... I'm hot!"
"Nooo!" protested Diane. "I... I c-c-can't!"
"The fuck you can't!" growled Skeet. His hand came down hard on the back of her head.
"Yeah! Make 'er suck!" agreed Sammy. "Push 'er face in it. She come back all by 'erself so let's see some action." He began whacking the hose hanging from the front of the shorts.
"Get with it, Greta." Tony came out of his jeans. His dick was already hard-a fat monster standing away from a shock of black cockhair. "Give us a show," he added. "Then we'll all get together. We ain't never tried a five-way blowout before."
It was horrible! The most despicable thing ever! thought Diane as her face was forced down, mashed into the stinking slit she'd thought delightful only a moment before. It was putrid now. Now she could smell the stronger stink of shit, the odor, so thick it could almost be seen, wafting from Greta's cute asshole.
No! Not cute! she corrected herself. Ugly! They had made it horrendous again! She wanted to puke. She wanted to...
"Owwww!" Tony, on his knees behind her at the head of the bed, was fucking his long veiny swipe up her chute.
"Yeah man!" applauded Sammy. "But shit, boss. What about us? Make 'em roll on their sides so's I can get at Greta's sweet bunnies. I'm an asshole man from 'way back."
Diane cried out as the cock popped from her asshole and six rough male hands turned her so she and Greta-still sucking each other's cunt -lay on their sides in the center of the mattress. Then Tony was there again... grinding it up her dry chute... causing pain... making her shove her pussy hard at the younger girl's face. And Sammy, on his side behind Greta, was replanting his meat where it had fucked a mere few hours before, and making the little black wedge nip and ripple against her chin.
Oh God! Diane thought. They were determined to kill her! To embarrass her to death! To shame her! But she sucked the wet gash in her face. And as Tony's long rod twisted up between her tight jiggly ass cheeks, making her gasp, making pleasure out of pain, she experienced another type shame. Now, she thought, what a shame it was that Skeet, sitting at the edge of the bed, had no place to put the thing standing like a pillar of strength, like an all-day sucker, in his lap. She offered her hand... shyly... a thrill passing through her as Skeet groaned and closed her fingers about the base of his tool. But she wished she possessed something more-another hot hairy hole. Something better to give such a magnificent cock.
She stopped thinking. She sucked Greta's cunt, wiggled her ass, and jerked her hand faster and faster... up and down, up and down, up and down...
She had passed out again. They had fucked her into oblivion. And now they lay, all arms and interlocked legs, sprawled over the bedding wet with sweat and cum. It was dawn. The first rays of sunlight were cutting into the room. And she felt... she felt dizzy but sated, in freefall, coming slowly to earth.
She saw Greta's eyelids flutter. The girl was somewhere between sleep and waking. She held her brother's limp cock in her tiny right hand. The other hand lay splayed on her belly... above the hairy thigh, Skeet's leg, wedged tight between hers.
She saw Tony. He was smoking a cigarette, propped at the head of the bed, grinning. Had they fucked all night, she wondered. She remembered only the first time: the four-way sandwich. Could she have done more and forgotten? She stared the question at the purple-red dickhead resting serenely on Tony's thigh. How lovely! she thought. How wonderful it was to awake to the sight of a cock-limp or hard!
She watched Tony's gaze travel the length of her body. The grin on his face widened. She looked down at herself, laughed. Sammy, sprawled at the foot of the bed, had one finger up her cunthole... a fact she hadn't noticed before. She wiggled free, giggled because the finger came out looking like something that had been soaking in a tub of hot water.
Tony snapped his fingers. She jumped, then smiled because he held the finger up and wagged her toward him. Careful not to disturb them, she crawled across Greta and Skeet and nestled in the crook of the arm he offered. Tony smoked in silence until the cigarette was a mere stub. He reached for the ashtray on the bedside table. He shredded the strands of tobacco from the burnt cylinder. Turning to her, he asked, "Glad you came back?"
Diane buried her face in the thick mat of hair on his muscular chest. Was she glad, she wondered. In a way, she supposed she was. But she wasn't certain. Too many things had happened to her in the month since the kidnapping. Strange things. Bad things and good things and things she couldn't yet classify. "I suppose," she said finally.
Tony cupped one firm breast. His fingers toyed with the nipple. "I'm glad you came back," he confided.
The warmth of the statement gushed through Diane. Was it possible, she speculated. Was this gruff, darkly handsome boy saying he cared for her? She looked up into his deepset brown eyes. The hand on her tittie squeezed affectionately. Her own hand moved slowly through the bristly forest that began at his chin and traveled an unbroken route to his navel. The hair changed texture, became thicker, more coarse, as her fingers neared his sex. "Let's go in the other room," she whispered. "So we don't wake the others. So... so we can f-f-fuck!"
But even before she had spoken the words, Sammy, at the foot of the bed, was coming out of sleep. He stretched. He looked from them, to the shriveled finger that had been up her cunt-hole. He sniffed. "Man!" he announced.
"It's better this way," said Tony. He captured the hand on his belly, forced it down through his cockhair, to the limp hose lying across one muscular thigh.
Diane sighed. She supposed he was right. Two dicks were better than one. And three...! Plus there was Greta to think of. Another pussy. Another new experience. Her fingers closed on the limpness in Tony's lap. She began to work it stiff... gaze darting from Sammy's piss hard-on, to the ebony springlets between Greta's smooth thighs, to Skeet's semi-erected cock. Was this her, she wondered. The girl-the virgin who fought and yelled like a banshee when she was raped in this very same room?
The thing in her hand began to stir, to swell and jerk. No! she decided. She wasn't the same anymore! Something strange and exciting had happened to her. Something within had changed, had made her... she didn't know what! She knew only that there was a hunger, an emptiness, a thirst for cum in her belly. In the hole which could be filled for a while, made better, momentarily satisfied by the thing beginning to grow huge in her hand.
Sammy scurried up beside her-between her and Greta and Skeet. Taking hold of her free hand, he closed her small fingers about the shaft of his cock. "Best way to start the day is with a fuck," he said, fondling the breast, the nipple, opposite the one Tony was kneading.
"Fucking stupid mother!" yelped Greta, rudely awakened by Sammy's movement.
"Fuck off!" said Sammy.
Skeet yawned. He grinned at Sammy. "I'll take care of any fucking off Sis has to do."
Diane thought the banter delightful. Lying flat, propped on pillows between the two boys, she jerked the swipes she held in each hand, and watched Skeet mount the dark-haired girl. She watched his long, piss-hard poker, still stained with cuntjuice from the night before, nose its way into the tiny black triangle. How lovely! she thought, cunt twitching as Skeet humped inch after thick inch up his sister.
"That's fer me!" said Sammy.
"Owah!" Diane lifted her hips, her pussy, onto the shriveled finger the boy shoved into the white-blonde wedge between her tense thighs. She made her cuntlips work... sucking the nub to the last joint up her vagina.
"Hold on," said Tony, speaking to his overanxious friend but looking at her. "No singles. This morning we're gonna initiate her-show 'er what real good fucking is. Me, you 'n' Skeet. Three stiff ones at once."
Oh God! thought Diane. Three! She could imagine them boring in. She waited breathlessly for the union to begin... watching Skeet and Greta... gaze shifting from the dick poking the younger girl's twat, to the finger fucking her cunthole, to the tips of the swipes she held- one plumb-shaped and pink, the other round, purple-red.
She blinked. There was something missing, she realized. Some intangible. But she didn't yet know what it was... knew only that now, open and ready, surrounded by cocks waiting to fill her with cream, the excitement she'd felt previously had diminished. It was as if her mind had finally caught up with her body and the thrill, the overpowering bliss of being taken against her will, was gone and had made the difference between plain sex and wonderful fucking.
Sammy shoved his rod hard into her hand. "Christ, boss. 'Member how she fought that day in the woods?"
"Yeah. But she ain't fightin' now," observed Tony. He lowered his face, his lips, to the rigid peak of her breast. "She's purrin' like a pussycat."
Diane drew a sharp breath. That was it! she suddenly realized. The intangible! Resistance! Always before, even when she enjoyed what was being done to her body, she'd struggled and pleaded and fought with her inner self. Now her inner self was calmly accepting the fact that three dicks were about to violate her. "Oh God!" she choked, clutching the wrist of the hand working her pussy. "Oh God, s-s-stoooooop!"
Sammy stared as if she were an escapee from the nearest nuthouse. Tony glowered up from her nipple. Skeet, poised in midstroke above Greta, looked as if his prick were about to go limp from shock.
"I... I c-can't!" As if they were dirty, things she despised, Diane released the two stiff cocks she'd been whacking. She wrestled the hand between her legs, twisted her tit away from the mouth sucking the hard little pink bud. "I... I won't let you do it. Not three. No! Never!"
"Shuddup!" Tony slapped her.
"Oh! You... you f-fuck!" Her nails lashed out, hooked in the skin beneath the hair on his chest, and raked. "I won't! I won't! I won't! I... let me go!"
Tony's face turned as dark and menacing as the four clawmarks oozing blood down his chest. "Fucking crazy cunt!"
Diane saw only a blur. But she heard the loud crack, felt the sting as his open palm whipped back and forth across her face. She felt the fingers at her cunthole become cruel. "Nooobo!" she wailed, lifted from the room, thrown back in time, set down on the day her pussy was new-the day the three brutes took her from Uncle John's store, brought her to the horrible little cabin, and systematically, against her will, took every virgin hole in her body. The revulsion came flooding back. But with it came the other, stronger, more wonderful sense of being debased. Being raped. Attacked by hard male bodies that had lost the last hint of gentleness, and were using, subjecting her flesh to their perverted desires.
"What she needs is a dick in 'er belly, boss." Quickly, pinching the tender inside of her thighs until she opened, Sammy scrambled over her belly. His cock butted her crotch. "Put it in!" he growled, digging his nails into her softness, forcing her to comply.
"Ohhhhhh!" Hand trembling, Diane took hold of his rod. She set the fat tip at her slit. But she closed her cunt tight... wanting the penetration to hurt... savoring the first mighty lunge forward.
Sammy pushed so hard his stiffness bent. He grunted. "Fucking cock-teasing bitch! Open that pussy. Open or I'll-" "Make 'er get up on 'er knees," directed Tony. "Maybe she'll get the message with my dick in 'er ass."
Sobbing-not because of the pain, but because the dickhead had deserted her sheath-Diane allowed them to lift her. On her knees, thighs wide, she balled her hands into fists and pounded Sam's broad shoulders. It did her no good; accomplished only what she'd set out to do. Rough hands gripped her waist from behind. Other hands captured her wrists. Then the swipe was back at her cunthole... pushing in... planting itself while the one at the rear sought her tight anus. She moaned. She twisted and pretended to fight. "No!" she said over and over. "No! No! NOOOO!"
"Hey! Save room for me," hollered Skeet.
Greta protested as the boy yanked his big sloppy wet prick from her wedge. She made a grab for him. "Later!" Skeet told her, positioning himself behind Sammy, on his feet, steering his meat toward the glistening gap in Diane's lovely face. It was madness. The bed became a raft on a sea of sensual delight. Diane gasped. She opened her lower body... working her belly, her thighs, her asshole... taking both veiny joysticks to the hilt up her hot hairy holes. Her lips formed the wide O. She stopped pounding Sam's shoulders-stopped pretending and reached for the fat wrinkled balls dangling from the roots of the cock about to enter her face.
"Now ah! Ah fucking man! Now she's gettin' with it!" groaned Sammy.
"Ummmmm!" Tony's teeth sank into the back of her neck. His hands cupped her jiggling buttocks. Spreading her open, making room for his dick to bite deeper, he began to dip slowly in and out of the tuft of down surrounding her little brown slit.
"Oh! What about meee?" cried Greta.
"Get yer cunt over here!" ordered Tony. He waited for the dark-haired girl to comply. "Now sit yer ass on Diane's shoulders," he directed. "Spread 'em open, sweetheart. Tony's got somethin' you'll dig."
Diane couldn't believe the fantastic arrangement of bodies. She felt Greta's small dimpled behind come to rest on her shoulders-felt the sticky cuntjuice, the residue of Skeet's fucking, drip down her back, and thought sure she was dreaming all this. But the nuts in her hand were no dream. And the dick-the long stinking thing grinding into her face-was too hot, too stiff and good, to be a mere fantasy. She heard Greta coo as Tony's tongue lapped noisily up her sopping wet pussy. She heard Sammy grunt. She heard the cock up her forebelly begin to slurp in time to the tongue swabbing close to her ear, in time to the rod reaming her asshole.
"Oh Gog!" she gurgled on Skeet's pistoning member. "Oh Gog, fuck! Fuck! FUCK!"
No one had to be told. Greta's sweet, thirteen-year-old cunt, the lovely black wedge Diane had sucked the night before, nipped furiously at the tongue licking hotly between her slim young thighs. Tony's meat set a steady fuck pace. Skeet, his hand at the back of her blonde head, shafted his bowed lovelance mightily in and out of the face of the once innocent girl they'd taught every trick, every nuance of screwing.
And Sammy! Best of all, thought Diane, was the lengthy swipe grating roughly across her tense clit. Best of all were the exquisite sensations it triggered. The time for shame, for revulsion and pretense, was over. Now was the time to screw. To work her inner cunt muscles. To wiggle her ass. To draw on the knob of the joint deep in her mouth. No! she thought. She was no longer the sweet innocent girl who lost her maidenhead in this same bed! That part of her life was over. Gone forever. She was a woman now. A woman skilled in the intricacies of sex. Of sucking and fucking. Of pleasure.
"Ah!" Skeet planted his throbbing dick to the hilt. "Hold tight, baby. I... I'm coming!"
"You said it!" chimed Sammy, listing to one side, making room for Skeet and fucking his prick into her at an angle.
On her shoulders, Greta squirmed and squealed. Tony lapped. The pole up her rectum tensed. Then the window beside the bed seemed to explode-letting in light second only to the bright flash racing simultaneously from the dicks in her face, ass and forebelly.
Diane gulped the thick cream. She fucked her hips round and round on the stuff spitting off in her cunthole and rectum. She drove herself toward the light, toward the fulfillment building up in her clit. Orgasm! she thought, feeling it begin. Nothing else mattered-not Uncle John, not tomorrow, not anything. Nothing except reaching the place where pussies and pricks and assholes and mouths united.