Chapter 9
"What was that?" asked Amber. "It sounded like a..."
"I think it was. Come on," said Randy, pulling her away from Susan's crotch. The blond girl looked up at them, her eyes still dazed by the emotions rippling through her body from having her cunt eaten so expertly.
She managed to sit up and said, "You're not leaving me here alone!"
"You'd be with them."
Randy pointed at Marty and Anne. Susan shivered a little as Marty's huge prick shot all the way up into the woman's wanton cunt. A quick toss of her blond head told both Amber and Randy that she considered being left alone with the other couple the same as being left alone.
"Come on then. But let's be careful." They made their way out into the hall. For a moment, Randy paused, wondering which way to go. He finally decided the office where Susan had been raped was the most-likely prospect. He edged to the door and peered in past the frame. Nothing moved inside. Acting bolder than he felt, the man pushed into the room. His hand went instinctively to the light switch. A click sounded but no lights came on.
"Damn, I keep forgetting the power's off. Come on." He had to tug at Susan's arm and this caused him to fall heavily over something lying on the floor.
"Damn!" he repeated and then he shut up suddenly. He hadn't fallen over a piece of furniture. He had stumbled over a dead body.
Amber took a half-step backward and stopped, her arms around Susan's shoulders. She felt a little funny acting motherly and protective toward a girl only a couple years younger than she. Yet the role came naturally. Susan was so helpless and dependent that Amber had to fend off the evils of the world trying to crash down on them.
"Who is it?" Amber managed to ask, her voice choked.
"Tom Larson, the night watchman. Been shot, apparently with his own gun. At least, his gun is missing." Randy fumbled around in the dark a bit more and finally stood up. "There's nothing we can do for him, poor bastard. He must have come into the room, scuffled with whoever was in here, and then lost his gun. Bam and that was it for him."
"Murder."
"And rape, too. We've got ourselves a genuine psycho on our hands. At least we know who it wasn't."
"What do you mean?" asked Susan. "How can you tell?"
"Well, it wasn't Amber or me. We were both otherwise occupied with your tasty little pussy."
The blond girl tried to smile but the effort was too great. "I knew it wasn't you, Randy. You're too nice. And you, too, Amber."
"Your trust is moving," said Amber cynically. "But keep going, Sherlock. You obviously have some idea who did this or you wouldn't have gotten into all the heavy crime stuff."
"We know it wasn't Marty and Anne, either. They are probably still fucking each other silly back there. It would take a hell of a lot more to get either of them to give up sex for even a minute that I care to think about."
"So you're saying that it was Harrison Salter?"
"I guess I am," Randy admitted. "But I still can't get it out of my head what Susan said about the rapist. He kept saying over and over that he was rich. I can't imagine that Salter has got more than enough money to put into a pay phone."
"You're wrong," came the unemotional voice from the depths of the room. They all three spun to face the inky shadows. The small amount of light trickling in through the window outlined a hand holding a gun. The hand shook visibly.
"Salter?" asked Amber. "Why? Why did you do this?"
"He discovered me. He found me out. I wasn't thinking when I used my belt. I could cover up the lack when I was around you by using my vest. But he found out I'd enjoyed that slut's hole." The gun steadied and the tension in the finger on the trigger increased.
"Sure, sure, that's all right," hastily said Randy. "But rich? You're not rich."
"I am now. This brief case contains a quarter of a million dollars in negotiable bonds. I stole them from my company. They treated me like a dog, didn't pay me anything near what I was worth, so I took them. But the goddamned lights went out and trapped me in this fucking building! It's not fair!"
"Cool it, just keep calm, man," Randy said. His mouth felt like it had been filled with cotton. He could hardly speak. He moved slowly so that his body was between the muzzle of the gun and Amber and Susan. If anyone got shot, he would get the first bullet. That might allow them time to run.
"Enough of this. I want everyone in the same room. Back. Back to the other room. Are those two awful people still fucking in that obscene way?"
"Obscene?" cried Susan. "After what you did to me, you think what they are doing is obscene? It's you who's obscene, you monster!"
"Shut her up," snapped Salter. "Shut her up or kill her! I should have finished her after I'd finished using her, but I got a soft spot for blondes. Tell me, honey, do blondes really have more fun? Is it because you're easier to find in the dark?"
"That's not funny, Salter," said Randy.
"It's not meant to be. And what's going to happen to all of you isn't going to be funny either. You all get such a perverted thrill out of fucking each other. Well, we'll see about that!"
He herded them out of the room and bad to the office where Marty had just brought of Anne. The woman was writhing on the table a mask of sheer sexual lust on her face. She was panting heavily, her snowy-white tits heaving up and down. The red caps of her nipples threatened to explode with too much excited blood being pumped into them by her frantic heart.
"God, they are still at it," Salter said. He clutched the briefcase to his chest and held the gun at arm's length. "All of you. Together. Over there!"
The five silently obeyed. They had no choice. Salter had already raped Susan and had shown how desperate he was by killing the watchman. They knew he wouldn't stop at five more murders, not with the power out and the entire city in chaos. His escape would be simple after the electricity came back on.
"I think I could get to like this," Salter said. "I feel a power coming on me. I guess it's the money I've got. You can feel it, can't you, you dumb slut."
He pointed the gun directly at Susan, who cowered. He laughed and that seemed to satisfy him for the moment.
"Come on, everybody. You were enjoying yourselves in your sick, depraved ways. I want to see more of it! You, Marty, go on and fuck her." He directed the barrel of his gun toward Susan. "I think she would like to feel a man's prick again. And you, you whore, you can suck me off while they're fucking!"
Anne looked startled when she realized that Salter meant her. For a moment, she didn't move, then she slowly nodded. But her triumph was short-lived. Amber could tell what the woman was thinking. If she could get close enough to Salter, she might be able to take the gun away from him. Salter stopped that idea with one single sentence.
"Tie her hands behind her back."
Amber did as the man ordered. She felt helpless when he made her and Randy sit on the far side of the room. No matter how fast they moved, even with the dark to cover their tracks, they couldn't hope to grab Salter. And he was going on with his plans to make Marty and Susan fuck.
"It's okay, Marty," the blond girl said softly. "I know you don't want to do this."
"But I do! I've wanted to ever since I set eyes on you. I just wish it could have been under better circumstances, like with both of us wanting it to happen."
She smiled shyly and said, "I think I might want it to happen. Does that make it any better?"
"Lots," he said, moving closer. His mouth closed on hers and cut off any further words. The girl gasped and then relaxed a little. She would have to get over the knee-jerk reaction of hating men simply because Salter had raped her. Marty was okay. He was more than okay.
And the feel of his prick rising up between her thighs promised more than a simple fucking. It promised her new worlds of pleasure. She knew she couldn't possibly get away from Salter as long as he held the gun on them, but she could cheat him. She could enjoy whatever he forced her and Marty to do.
And she was enjoying the hell out of it so far!
The feel of the man's lips against hers brought back old, pleasant memories. Not of the rape. That had been ugly, but of the times she had fucked because she was turned on. The young girl felt her pussy beginning to respond. The nearness of his cock was part of the attraction. The way his hands searched her body for all the right places made her slowly respond to him.
"Ummmm, you taste good," he told her. "And your body! It's fabulous."
"I don't care if he's forcing us. I want you!" she told Marty. Her chest thrust forward, the tips of her boobs pressing hot and hard into the man's naked chest. He moved slightly and she felt her tits crush down almost flat. The sensations ripping into her body were wonderful. And she wanted more. She had to have more to erase the unpleasant memories from her mind.
The blond girl began to think this might be something like being thrown from a horse. You don't just get up and limp away, you get back on so that the fear of the animal will be pushed aside. She knew that this wasn't going to be the torture that Salter had planned it to be. It would be therapy. And already she was enjoying it
The taste of the man's saliva made her hornier than she would have thought possible under the circumstances. She was being forced to fuck him. And she wanted his prick!
She parted her slender thighs and positioned her snatch directly over his leg. Slowly moving up and down she rubbed her most sensitive flesh against his hairy upper leg. The thrill that went through her body was more intense than ever before. She began to feel her juices flowing out the tightly pursed cunt-lips.
"Go on, make love to me!" she begged. "I want you more than I can say!"
"You got it!" His lips worked their way back to her sensitive neck. Licking and softly caressing her flesh made her weak in the knees. She slowly sank to the ground, her hands roving all over the man's broad back. She felt the hunger in her pussy. She had to have it fed-with nice, long, hot prick. Nothing else would do.
She felt like a tramp going onto her back and letting her legs open up wide for him. And then she didn't care about anything anymore. He moved swiftly to position himself. He caught up her legs and put her knees just over his shoulders. She was bent double in this position, her own upper legs pressing sensuously into her tits. Then he began to pump forward, his prick driving into her cunt.
The blond girl hadn't thought such intense pleasure was possible for her anymore. She felt the blunted head of his prick enter her labia, pause for a moment as if testing the heat of her seething cunt, then surge all the way up into her belly.
She screamed as she came. The girl hadn't thought she was anywhere close to orgasm. The combined sensations he generated inside her brought her off super-fast. The way her legs massaged her nipples as he drove forward into her body helped. She was bent double and felt something like a pretzel, but it wasn't uncomfortable. She didn't have time to think that.
His cock filled her to overflowing. The hot shaft rocketed all the way into her tight, seething hot pussy and caused her cunt-walls to stretch to accommodate him. She shuddered through her convulsive orgasm and then settled down to really enjoy the fucking.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she sighed. "I love it. I love it all. Fuck me goooood!"
"Yeah, fuck her good," jeered Salter, waving the gun around wildly. "See how she is? She gets off on any man's prick. Those bitches are all alike. Cockteasers, each and every one!"
"like me?" cooed Anne. She looked up at him with her hot eyes blazing. Carefully, tan-talizingly, she let just the tip of her pink tongue slip through her lips. She carefully wet her lips in the most come-hither manner she could manage.
Salter's pants jumped at the crotch, as if they were alive. He quickly pulled down his zipper. His prick jumped out, eager for the hot, wet berth in the seductive woman's mouth.
"Suck," he ordered.
She inched forward on her knees, her hands firmly bound behind her back. She was thankful to Amber that the girl hadn't really pulled the bindings too tight and cut off circulation, but having her hands tied like this did something to her. It made her feel trapped. But there was an element of sexiness involved that she didn't understand. She had never been into bondage, but the idea of being commanded by the man to suck his prick made her mouth water.
Anne moved closer, her tongue flashing out to lightly lick along the sensitive underside of Salter's cock. She tasted the heavy male musk of a man totally aroused. This made her nostrils flare. She inched closer, her tongue seeking out all the right places to touch and stimulate and lick and stroke.
"God, that's nice," he muttered.
"And it'll be better as soon as I can get more of that delicious prick into my mouth!" she told him. She hated the man's guts, but she couldn't control herself now. She had to suck him off. The sex-drive in her was too strong to deny.
Her tongue succeeded in snaring his cock and pulling to her her lips. She sucked hard and the plum-tipped cock shot into her mouth. For a moment, she simply used her tongue to run all over the broad arrowhead-shaped glans. Then she applied all her skill and knowledge to giving the man the best head she could.
She sucked. Her cheeks went hollow under the strain. But she didn't get his prick deeper into her mouth. She kept her tongue pressed firmly against the head. Once, she tried to stuff her oral digit all the way down the piss-slit. They both knew that wasn't possible. But it turned both of them on more than the woman would have thought.
Anne could feel his prick jumping and pulsing harder now. The entire shaft had grown in size. Now the pulsating prick threatened to stretch her lips out of shape. She could almost forget for a minute that this wasn't the cock of a rapist and murderer she was working so eagerly on.
It was a man who turned her on. That was all that the dark-haired woman was thinking about.
Her tongue slid off the tip of his cock. This allowed him to shove forcefully forward. Anne almost gagged at the assault. The rubbery tip of his cock bounced off the roof of her mouth and shot past her tonsils. Before she could really adjust to it, he was all the way down her throat.
"Now suck cock good, damn you, you dumb cunt!" the man raged.
" She gagged. She gagged and moved back to get air back into her lungs. She felt his hand go through her dark hair and pull her face back into his crotch. For a fleeting second she had the thought of biting his prick off, then she stopped before her teeth closed. He would kill them all for sure if she did anything like that. "Suck!"
He relaxed the fierce grip on the back of her head and allowed her a little air. Gasping hotly, she managed to keep sucking on his prick. It was hard, but she did it because she had to.
The woman used her tongue even faster now. The idea had come to her that, if she could get him off in a hurry, he wouldn't be in any position to molest her or any of the others. Her tongue worked on the tiny flap of skin dangling under the cleft head of his cock This was the most delicate portion of his prick.
She teased and tormented that section of skin under her tongue ached. And she sucked. She sucked as she'd never done before on any man's prick. And the reward gushed into her mouth. The hot and salty jism filled her mouth and she gagged again.
The man laughed and grunted as he face-fucked her. His hand kept hold of her hair as he pumped hard and fast into her mouth. She tensed her lips to form a firm "" of lips around his incoming prick. This was enough to keep him happy.
When his prick turned limp and fell from her mouth, he kicked her onto her back, saying, "Just as I thought. You can't give good head. None of you sluts know how to give a blow-job."
Anne started to say something in protest and then watched Salter wildly wave his pistol around. As long as he held that, he was the one in control. If he wanted to say she gave a lousy blow-job, that was his business. She knew better-as did all the men who had been on the receiving end of her fellatio.
"Look at them," marveled Salter. "Still fucking as if they enjoyed it. Do you suppose they really do? The dumb fuckers!"
Marty was panting harshly, his body gleaming in the dim light from the sweat running from his pores. He struggled to keep a steady, powerful fucking rhythm going. His hips wanted to take over. They wanted to wildly drive his cock all the way up into the girl's sucking pussy.
He had to keep as even a pace as he could to give her the fullest pleasure possible. He loved the feel of her tight cunt surrounding his prick. The way she tensed and relaxed her pussy-walls turned him on more than he could put into words. It had been a long time since he had found a twat that sheathed his fleshy sword this perfectly.
Having her bent double like she was helped him penetrate her even farther than normal. He wasn't poorly hung. He had a good-sized prick on him, but bending over like this let him fuck a goodly inch or more deeper into her steamy cunt.
Every single thrust made the girl shudder as if she had some sort of erotic palsy. She realized in a dim, vague way that Salter was watching them, laughing at them, making obscene comments. The blonde girl didn't care. She had her pussy filled with the most delightful prick she had ever found, bar none.
"More, Marty darling, more!" she cried. "I need itsooooo!"
He fucked faster. Her entire body slid a little on the rug as he drove mercilessly into her cunt. She knew her shoulders would have rug burns on them and she didn't care. The pleasure received now would more than offset any discomfort later.
"Can't keep going like this," he gasped. "Gotta come. Just gotta!"
"Do it, darling! Do it! Fuck me long and hard and deeeeeep!"
Her entire body was seized by the iron grip of orgasm. She gasped and then screamed out her passions.
She needed his cock. She wanted him to get off as fast as he could. The hot, sweet rush of his jism would give her the ultimate come. She would at last find the Big O.
But it didn't come. A heavy foot kicked Marty off her. Susan's legs straightened out and she lay on the rug, unfulfilled passion gnawing at her guts. She had to work to get back to reality. Marty was crumpled up against a desk, nursing his arm where Salter had kicked him off.
"Bitch. And you, you pimp, aren't any better. God, you all make me sick. Fucking like that. Fucking as if you enjoyed it!"
"I did." That was all Susan had a chance to say before the man dropped to his knees and slapped her across the face.
Marty went for him but ended up with the barrel of the gun laid across his head. He slumped again, moaning, a trickle of blood running from the wound on his forehead.