Chapter 6
Diane fully intended to keep her promise to Uncle John. After what Fred had made her do, the embarrassment she felt whenever thinking about it, she didn't care if she never saw him again. And her uncle had hurt her something awful, even worse than Tony and the others. Even now, days later, her tight little cunthole was raw inside from his punishing nails. And he'd told her again and again, every day since the afternoon with Fred, that he'd beat her next time-put the belt to her bottom if she ever dared fuck for anyone else again.
But she was thinking other thoughts now. It was a bright summer day, and the new hot pants and blouse she wore drew admiring stares from men and boys who didn't know who she was, didn't know she was Diane, the girl who'd spent four days being raped in a lonely cabin in the Palos Verdes Hills. Even the driver, as she stepped from the bus a mere block away from the moviehouse and an afternoon of fantasy, winked and smiled at her cute, bouncy behind. She didn't mind that. In fact, she liked being looked at, always had! It was only those who knew who she was, those aware of what she'd been through, who made the looks dirty, something to be ashamed of.
But today she felt clean, alive. It might even be nice, she thought, to meet a boy at the movies-someone who'd flirt and offer her popcorn, which was silly, but fun. Someone who'd be pleasant and awkward simply because she was an attractive, unescorted girl. It was what she was thinking when the horn broke into her consciousness. She stopped, was almost knocked down by shoppers hurrying by. Who in the world, she wondered as the car, a long, red convertible-a Pontiac, she thought, but wasn't sure-made a U-turn at the corner and came squealing back. Her breath caught when she saw the shock of dark hair and grinning face thrusted out the rear window.
"Hey, Di!" Fred waved as the car screeched to a stop at the curb. He leaned further out the window, looked her up and down. "So how's about a quickie?" he yelled, apparently unconcerned with the curious pedestrians who had stopped to stare at the car, and the girl-her!-in hot pants so tight they were stuck deep in the crack of her ass.
"Little tramp!" an elderly woman shopper muttered under her breath.
"Don't go with them, girlie," said a leering, beefy man in work clothes. "I'll take the rest of the day off 'n' you can come home with me."
Diane wilted. Heart sinking, she watched Fred, still grinning, unruffled by the comments flooding her face with shame, throw open the back door of the car and motion her in. She knew what would happen once she stepped into the car. There were three of them. But she couldn't just stand there, couldn't endure the words making her ears ring with hot blood. Where a moment before she'd been happy, carefree and alive, she now felt as if she'd been lifted by an invisible hand and set roughly down in the horrible cabin in the Palos Verdes Hills.
She felt a hand brush her ass, turned and saw the beefy man smiling with teeth stained brown and green with tobacco. She wanted to run. But a crowd had gathered-unable to get past the leerers. And now, as she stood helplessly among them-Fred urging her into the car, and the beefy man, because of the crowd, the confusion, feeling her ass with impunity-the horrible woman who'd called her a tramp was telling everyone she was a "street girl."
Quickly, to escape the terrible strangers, the horrible woman, and brazen man, Diane stepped to the curb. Fred took hold of her hand. She hesitated. She looked back. She saw the beefy man make an obscene gesture. Without thinking, wanting only to get away, she allowed herself to be guided into the car.
Before the car had maneuvered its way through the downtown traffic, Diane regretted the move. Fred had wasted no time. Despite her struggles and protests, despite her pleas, his hand was cupped at her crotch, and, while the two boys in the front seat watched-one looking hungrily back at her, the other, the driver, watching through the rear-view mirror-he worked his hand, his fingers, up the legband of the hot pants to her pussy.
Diane felt his insistent fingers pressing the nylon panties into her sore cuntlips. She winced. "Please don't," she whispered, not so much troubled by the pain she had by now begun to accept as a part of sex, or by what Fred was doing, as embarrassed by the strange eyes watching their every move. "You ... you can come to my apartment. Just me and you. M-my uncle won't be home for hours, and we...."
Fred laughed. "No way, baby. What about my friends? You can't go accepting rides without paying the fare." He forced the panties and two fingers up her wet cuntlips. "Now be nice 'n' gimme a kiss."
"Nooo! Let me out. I ... I'll walk."
Again Fred laughed. Turning to the sandy-haired boy in the front seat, he said, "She's a little stubborn at first. But once she gets with it ... man! What she needs is some friendly persuasion. C'mon back here, Mike."
"You said it!"
Before Diane could utter another sound, the boy from the front seat, Mike, had scurried over, into the back of the car, and was helping Fred stretch her out on the cool leather. "Oh, no.
NOOOOO!" she wailed, kicking at Mike's hands, trying to free her legs.
"Shit! We ain't gonna hurt ya," assured Fred, trying to press his lips to hers, holding her torso down with the weight of his body.
Gripping her ankles, Mike forced her legs wide ... opening her cunt for the fingers beneath the hot pants. "Better get out of the city," he told the driver. "Someplace quiet. Maybe up aroun' Palos Verdes. I bet she'd dig that-huh, Fred?"
"She digs this!" Fred pushed the panties aside and pressed all four stubby fingers, wedged together, up her dripping little love hole.
Gasping, no longer able to speak, Diane grabbed the boy's wrist in both hands and tried to force the fingers away. But it was no use. The more she struggled, the rougher the fingers became ... hurting ... digging deep in her sore vulva. She closed her eyes tight, chewed her lip, and listened .to the hum of the tires as the car turned onto the highway; the same highway they'd traveled the day Tony and the others robbed Uncle John's store. There was no escaping that day, it seemed. It was there, always present, in everyone who knew.
"That's better," rasped Fred.
Diane felt the fingers slip from her vulva. For a moment she thought he had relented and they were going to let her go. Then she felt Fred's fumbling fingers working the zipper at her waist. She sobbed as the hot pants opened. She held her breath as the shorts and panties were shimmied off her hips, down her quivering thighs ... exposing her body, her sore pussy, for all in the car to see.
"Jesus Christ Super Star!" gasped Mike, hands moving up the outside of her thighs, taking over for Fred, yanking the garments down and off her feet. "She's a real blonde all right. Lemme at it, man. My cock's so fucking hard ... Jesus!"
Diane barely heard the boy. Her flesh burned with new shame. She concentrated on the hum of the tires ... trying to disengage herself ... to blot, out the rape. Despite the effort, she heard the rustle of clothing as Fred stripped pants and shorts from his legs. If she screamed, they'd hurt her, she knew. But she had to do something, no matter how futile, how inadequate-as she'd had to do something when the strangers on the sidewalk, the horrible woman, the beefy man, forced her into the car. She took a deep breath ... held it until her lungs threatened to burst. Then, as Fred arranged himself between her spread legs-swipe stiff, pointing down, ready to stab into her pussy-she yelled with all her might.
The car bucked, as if frightened. "Shut that bitch the fuck up!" ordered the driver.
Fred slapped her. Back and forth. Again and again until Diane stopped screaming and raised trembling hands to her smarting cheeks. Then he set the tip of his dick at her pulsing pink cunthole, and, while the sandy-haired boy, Mike, held her ankles, while the driver, the one with the gruff voice, watched through the rear-view mirror, while Diane whimpered and tried not to feel the delicious tingling sensation making her tiny clit jerk, the boy humped the length of his prick-so stiff, so long-up her white-blonde pussy.
"Oh, motherfucker!" groaned Fred.
Releasing her ankles, Mike moved swiftly to the other end of the car. "Let's get a look at them titties," he growled, sitting on the edge of the seat and fumbling with the buttons down the front of her blouse.
Diane felt the breeze from the front-vent window wash over her torso. Why hadn't she worn a bra, she thought. If she had, if she'd taken the simple precaution, she reasoned hysterically, there'd be another garment, more protection, something more to dissuade the fingers biting into her breasts ... arousing her pink nipples. She held her eyes tightly shut and tried not to think about the hands, the cock driving in and out of her cunthole, the driver watching. But the cock felt so good, so hard, the glans so round and smooth. And the other hands, the ones on her buttocks, the finger twisting up her pinched asshole, were forcing her hips up, up off the leather ... driving her against her will onto the pistoning shaft.
"Lookit 'er go! Manoman!" Fred fucked faster, slamming his stiffness brutally, harder and harder, into her juicy love hole.
"Oh. Oh God!" Diane felt her legs rising up, seeking the boy's slender waist.
"That's it, baby," rasped Fred. "Put 'em ... oh mano-fucking man! Put them sweet fucking legs ... ah Jesus! Man! Wrap ... wrap 'em aroun' me quick!"
Whining, mewing a sound alien to her ears, Diane obeyed. She gripped the boy in the vise of her trembling thighs, squeezed. Her ass churned. Her hips, as if suddenly plugged into an electric outlet, began to grind round and round ... fucking her tight little pussy, her cunthole, furiously onto the rod stoking in and out of her belly.
"Hurry up 'n' lemme get some while she's hot," urged Mike, stiff prick in hand.
"Almost!" gasped Fred. "All ... ah! Oh! Oh man, I ... I'm c-coming n-n-noooow!"
Diane yelled as the cream spurted off in her pussy. She worked her pelvis ... milking ... milking. She felt the hot goo seep out, down the crack of her ass, down the inside of her thighs, and form a small puddle on the seat. She slapped her buttocks into the puddle ... fucking ... fucking with all the strength in her body, all the force in her hips.
"C'mon, man. Gimme a shot," insisted Mike, moving his hand down and over the swell of her round belly and into her silky white-blonde curls.
The dick in her cunt suddenly popped free. "Owwwww!" breathed Diane. She opened her eyes, watched Fred push her legs from her waist, watched the other boy strip the clothes from his lower body. She moaned. Mike's cock was uncircumcised. She'd never before seen a swipe without the torpedo-shaped head, and now, as she stared in awe at the natural phenomena, her vulva twitched ... crying out, it seemed, begging for the new experience.
Fred and Mike changed places. And as the sandy-haired boy-who had sandy hair surrounding his balls and prick, too, noted Diane in wonder-positioned himself above her, ready to fill the hungry space Fred had vacated, the rod still wet with her cuntjuice, smelling of her vagina, bobbed close to her face. Her mouth filled with cottonish saliva. Now there was a need, a hunger in her throat, too. As the big, un-circumcised dick, Mike's joystick, found her hot hairy hole and began to bore in, Fred seemed to recognize the temptation in her gaze, raised one knee, leg cocked, and offered the slimy glans of his tool for sucking.
"Boy, she's some good pussy," whispered Mike, forcing his meat up her belly, in short, mighty thrusts.
"She digs sucking, too, man." Fred cupped her chin. Turning her face toward him, he rubbed the slick tip of his rod across her glistening lips.
"Oh, no. N-not that," protested Diane weakly-shame making her cheeks burn despite the spit coagulating in her throat. She closed her mouth, moved her head from side to side until the fat pole in her pussy tore a strangled cry from her lips, and the glans, the smelly tip of the swipe in Fred's hand, pushed in past her teeth.
"Holy shit! Save some for me," said the driver, swerving out from behind a truck he'd almost tailgated into. The car shot forward, slowed, turned right off the highway. The steady hum of the tires became an erratic thump-thumping.
"Put your knees up," said Mike. He waited for her to comply, to form a wide V with her legs. Then, holding himself raised on outstretched arms, panting as he watched Fred force his joint into her face, he began fucking his long uncir-cumcised cock slowly in and out of the sloppy wet grotto between her lovely young thighs.
Diane felt lightheaded, dizzy. She was coming, having orgasm after orgasm, each one better, more violent than the one before. She arched her spine and wiggled her ass as she'd never gyrated before. She sucked Fred's dick into the warmth of her mouth-not caring that her neck ached from the unnatural position, or that they were using her, making her a receptacle for their perverted desires. Her hand fluttered at the base of Fred's cock. Tentatively she cupped his balls. Sucking him all the way in to her throat, she kneaded the wrinkled sacs and kneaded the swipe in her belly with her inner cunt muscles.
"Mother!" gasped Mike, stoking harder. "She ... she's as tight as a ... a fucking virgin!"
The word brought fresh tears of regret, tears of shame, to Diane's eyes. A virgin! She'd never again be a virgin-never again be the sweet, innocent girl she was only a month before. How many swipes had sampled her charms? Five? Six? Six! An even half dozen! she realized ... counting the one now fucking her pussy. And there was another in the front seat, a dick with a gruff voice, that would spit jism into her belly before the day ended.
The uncircumcised rod in her belly suddenly buried itself to the hilt. "Fuck, baby. Wiggle!" choked Mike. Frantically he grinded the roots of his sex, his wiry cockhair, into the sore, swollen lips of her vulva.
"And suck!" demanded Fred, ramming his meat home, holding her face tight to his belly, again pissing cum.
Diane gagged. She couldn't breathe. She was twisted, contorted, her limbs and neck going every whichway. And the semen-the thick goo shooting off from two cannons at opposite ends of her body-was triggering red and orange, purple and green and white flashes, inside her head. She heard thunderclaps-Mike's belly, as he fucked off the last of his load, slapping hers. She was drifting ... being carried away on a noisy, Technicolor flying carpet. But there was nowhere to go except down. Down into the black depths. Down into nothingness.
The voices seemed to be coming from far, far away-from a speck of light at the end of a tunnel of darkness. They were no longer moving, she realized. As she forced her eyelids open, blinking into the speck that had suddenly become a windowful of bright sunlight, she saw why. The car was parked beneath a ceiling of trees, leaves, and patches of blue, on a deserted dirt road. For a moment, mind still fuzzy from the blackout, she watched the faint breeze rustle through the overhead garden. Why hadn't they put the top down, she wondered. It was such a nice day-so warm and peaceful and relaxing-that she didn't see why they didn't make use of the accordion braces supporting the canvas roof of the new red car.
"She's coming aroun'," said Fred.
"'Bout fucking time, too," replied the gruff voice from the front seat of the car.
Whimpering, Diane shut her eyes tight once more. It was all coming back to her ... Fred, Mike, the nameless one at the wheel. They'd fucked her unconscious, and now, lying helpless on the seat, the sun dancing on her naked flesh, she was vulnerable to attack, at their mercy, available for fucking again and again and again.
"Shit!" blurted Fred. "Now she's pretending. Like I didn't see her eyes open. Fucking cunts're crazy, man. Every last one of 'em!"
"Naw. She ain't pretending," mocked the gruff voice. "She's still out. But I got somethin' that'll wake 'er up real quick-like." A moment later, the voice was beside her in the back of the car. "This is better than smelling salts," the owner of the voice added.
Suddenly Diane was thrashing about wildly on the long plastic thing the driver of the car had shoved up her tender cunthole. Opening her eyes, she gripped the man's thick wrist, and fought silently-stunned, unable to believe this was happening to her-to push the horrible thing away. She'd heard about such devices, battery-operated dildos, but never, not in her wildest dreams, had she thought such a terrible thing would find its way into her little pink slit.
"Hey, man. You think she likes it?" Fred spread her legs wider.
"L-l-let me GOOO!" Diane struggled harder than she had ever fought in her life-harder than she'd struggled the first time at the cabin. Because now, while she lay helpless, Fred holding her legs and Mike trapping her hands, the driver, the one whose face was even uglier than his voice, slipped the vibrating dildo from her vagina and began pushing it, painful inch at a time, up between the trembling halves of her ass and into her rectum. "Oh, noooooo!" she cried. "N-not there. It ... owwwww! It's too biiiiiiig!"
It lasted until she was too exhausted, too numbed with pain, to fight anymore. Her asshole, her insides, felt as if they'd been chugged upside down in a cement mixer and packed back in her belly by clumsy hands. "You still got that blanket in the trunk?" she heard someone ask, but was too dizzy, too shaken by the vibrator, to ascertain who was speaking.
"Good idea," said the gruff voice. "You get it 'n' me 'n' Fred'll get her outside."
Diane watched Mike, bare buttocks toward her, step from the back seat and disappear around the back of the car. With the last ounce of strength in her legs, she kicked as Fred and the driver lifted her off the cool leather, and, banging her naked hips into the steel frame causing new pain, carried her out into bright sunlight and space ... room to do whatever terrible thing they now had in mind.
But what was left, wondered Diane. They'd fucked her, made her suck, and forced the hideous dildo up her behind. There simply wasn't an unviolated hole big enough to stick a dick in anywhere on her tortured young body. Somehow the thought gave her courage. It wasn't as if this was the first time, she reasoned. She knew what a cock felt like, knew its reaction no matter where it was put. And despite the pain, the nausea, the burning shame, her pussy craved fucking still. It was a fact she found horrid, unthinkable, but nonetheless true.
They made her stand, Fred and the driver each holding an arm, while Mike, stubby uncircumcised cock bobbing half hard away from his body, arranged the blanket over a pile of leaves. Then the driver, fingers working deep in the crack of her ass, unzipped his pants. "Fred tells me you like being reamed," he said close to her ear.
"I ... I...." Diane faltered.
"Just bend 'er over one time," suggested Fred. "You wanna see something go faster 'n that vibrator? Watch her ass when you stick a hunk of hard sausage up there!" He stepped in front of her. He went to work on her breasts ... pinching the nipples ... kneading the firm, creamy mounds. His dick came up stiff and brushed against her belly.
"That sounds like my bag, baby. Hold tight." The driver abandoned her ass long enough to shed his clothes. Then he stepped up behind her once more. His curious fingers returned to her puckered anus, pushed in past her sphincters. "Show me!" he told her. "Open that sweet little asshole 'n' let's see you go."
Diane didn't resist when the hand high on her back pressed forward, jackknifing her body. "D-d-don't h-hurt me anymore," she pleaded ... wanting him ... not wanting him ... not knowing what she wanted anymore. "G-go easy. Please. I ... I w-won't fight. I ... I'll h-help, but...."
"Sure you'll help," the ruffian growled. "I already know you like fucking. I watched you all the time in the car. I never seen a pretty blonde pussy snap like that little bird's nest you got." His fingers slipped from her asshole, into her cunt. "An' this tight little brown hole back here-" he pressed the tip of his big cock into the soft puff of fur at the mouth of her rectum-"this one's gonna snap just as good ... or else!"
Despite her resolve to help, to give them what they wanted without further resistance, Diane cried out when the driver pressed his swipe into the hole the vibrator had made more tender. The force of the first lunge almost knocked her to her knees. Instinctively she reached out for balance, something to hold on to. Fred was there ... stiff prick jerking, waiting for her mouth. Oh God! Not again! she thought as the meat she'd tasted twice before touched her lips.
"Hey, man. How about lettin' me get a shot of that good face," objected Mike, stepping up and nudging Fred aside. "Don't be greedy, man. One knobjob per customer." He stood with feet wide apart. Thrusting his hips, his sex, forward, he said, "It ain't too hard, blondie. But you suck it awhile 'n' it'll come up like a fucking flagpole."
For a moment, the cock in her asshole basking before another lunge, Diane stared askance at the blob of meat at the tip of the joint surrounded by coarse, sandy hair. It was the absolute ugliest thing!
As she watched, whining deep in her throat, clutching the boy's hips as the dick in her behind began to grind forward once more, Mike took hold of the horrid thing. She watched him draw back the foreskin. She blinked. There was a bulb-bright red and not much bigger than her own cute little pink hard-on-hiding within the strange slab of loose flesh.
"Give it a lick," urged Mike.
Diane stared in fascination at the miniature pecker within a pecker. Her tongue, without the slightest coaxing from her, flicked out. Mike grunted and fucked his hips forward at the same time the stiff meat in her ass, plowed. She gasped. Her lips opened. The entire length of the boy's peculiar member glided into her mouth.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Mike cupped her face. His rod began to swell. In less time than it took the prick in her rectum to pull back for another lunge, the one in her face was full hard and jerking against her tonsils.
From the corner of her eye, Diane saw Fred, who had been standing aside watching, whacking himself off, drop to his knees. Bug-eyed she watched him scurry forward ... into the space between her legs and the boy whose rod she was sucking. His hands crept up the back of her thighs. "Man!" he breathed hotly into her pussy. "It even smells good!"
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! O WW WWW WWW!" Hips bucking, gurgling the pleasure noises on the glans of the pole in her face, Diane tried to capture the tongue lapping her cunthole. It was her turn to grip the back of a head. Weaving her tiny fingers through Fred's shock of dark hair, she held his noisy mouth tight to her wedge, held on to Mike with her free hand, and screwed her round anxious ass furiously back onto the swipe digging, digging, digging in and out of her shoot.
"Oh, mother! Motherfucking motherless mother-you sweet little cocksucker you!" Mike slammed his hips forward so hard his nuts jumped up and slapped the underside of her chin.
Diane squealed as the bright red tip butted the roof of her mouth. It was suddenly heaven. Pure bliss. The pain, the residue of torture and shame, seemed to have fled with the first flick of Fred's tongue. And now, the dick in her face sliding smoothly in and out of her O-shaped lips, the one in her asshole twisting from side to side as it plowed, the open mouth covering her sex began to suck and blow. She felt the hot breath pouring into her vulva, felt the tongue with the texture of sandpaper washing her clit, and knew-at the very least-she was going to black out again. Now she fought the dizzy sensation, fought the darkness that had meant escape before. For although it was impossible to breathe, although the trees and sky and ground were spinning, there was a thirst in her gullet, her rectum-a thirst which only the gushing of thick cream could quench. A thirst so demanding, so powerful, she made loud sucking noises each time Mike pulled back, fearing he might pop free. A fever so strong her sphincters seemed to have grown fingers to yank the rod reaming her rectum back in to the roots each time it tried to retreat. She felt bloated, stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey. Yet the little pink slit in her pussy wanted more. It, too, wanted a cock to caress ... something fatter and longer and harder than a tongue to wrap its slippery arms around and make violent love to.
"Ummm! Urn baby. Bab-baby! Your asshole nips like the jaws of a fucking toothless barracuda," she heard the driver, driving his throbbing joint faster and faster and faster into her plump bottom, say.
"You gotta try this end," Mike countered. "Chris'sakes! I think she's trying to eat my fucking balls, too!"
And then everything seemed to happen at once. The tongue licking her cunthole found the trigger. An automatic pistol shot bullet after bullet of sensation through her inner thighs. Her legs gave out. Moaning, she dropped to her knees on the blanket-taking the prick up her asshole down with her, but allowing the one fucking her face to jump free. The tiny red tip poked redder than red from its jacket of skin and blasted thick sticky semen into her eyes, her hair. The cock up her belly geysered. And Fred-fucking Fred! dropped almost flat,.. tongue refusing to relinquish its prize ... fingers digging into the soft flesh his friend was humping between ... sucking a continuous orgasm out of pussy while Mike tried to straddle his head and plant his uncircumcised swipe in her cum-spattered face once more.
"Oh, suck me!" cried Diane. "Suck me. Suck me! Suck meeeeeeeeee!" Greedily she drew Mike's dancing joint back into the saliva-filled warmth of her mouth, pressed Fred's face with both hands to her pulsating pussy, and tightened her buttocks. There was only one thing Diane now regretted. She felt the jism oozing down her cheeks, watched cross-eyed the drop trickling down her pert nose. And she felt terrible about having wasted all that lovely white cum.