Chapter 8

The sound of a slamming door jarred Rita out of dazed slumber, like the angled afternoon sunlight that now splashed through her half-open eyelids. Blurrily, she thought, I must get up to answer the door, but when she tried to rise, the bonds that roped her hands jerked her back down and she shuddered, abruptly joining her mind with the present reality: She was being held prisoner in her own home by a feeble-minded young man capable of more than rape. Her throat was dry; she licked her parched lips to moisten the saline crust of John Silverman's dried sperm.

The pungent taste brought back other memories of how it had felt to lie helpless under the fury of his rock-hard cock ripping at the tender line of her soft lips, filling her mouth and throat with his man-meat. Revulsion and shame blazed in her mind and alongside it, little pangs of raw uninvited pleasure began to nibble at her nerve-ends, peaking in her nipples and blossoming into full flower in her throbbing, untouched clitoris. Stop it! her mind screamed as her body titillated with the pricklish threat of danger.

Footsteps, deliberately measured and growing in nearness stopped at the other side of the bedroom door, jolting John out of his childish slumber. His stocky body unfolded from the bed and nakedly he jogged to the door rattling with knocking of heavy fists.

"Lemme in, Kid!" blurted a drunken voice from the other side and something inside .of Rita's stomach knotted. That voice . . . that was Him . . . Rover!

"I-I-I gotta f-f-find the key!" mumbled John, shooting a wary glance in Rita's direction and then falling to his haunches to rattle the bedroom key out of his jumpsuit. A moment later he was opening the door and the black grinning face of Rover became an afternoon nightmare to Rita Henshaw.

"What are you doing here?" she whimpered. "No . . . get out of my house-both of you!"

"Jes came to pay my afternoon respects, miz," he grinned toothily. Then turning to John who was timidly stuffing his penis into the zipped front of his jumpsuit, he said: "Keep watch outside, kid, so's nobody comes nosin' 'round. We got one more comin' to take part in our little party. But tha's all . . . nobody else . . . you got that straight?"

John nodded dumbly, clearly the inferior servant in this masterminded plot to humiliate and sexually debase Dr. Henshaw's young bride.

Rita could feel herself blushing hotly as she lay naked and unable to cover her body from the black man's gleaming eyes roving hungrily over her tied-down body. The rose gardener smirked self-confidently: "Don' you bother gettin' dressed for me, girl. I ain' gonna stay but an hour an I done had my afternoon coffee."

To show fear would be conceding in this sick man's game of prisoner. Rita glared at him through hate-filled eyes, afraid her voice would betray her from the fear that broiled through her mind; but never would she willingly submit to the outrageous indecency they had plotted for her. She had allowed her body to be conquered once, and once was enough.

The black inmate sauntered casually up to the bed and Rita closed her eyes tightly to blot out the sight of the onerous man whose hands were moving over her naked body now, massaging her breasts and squeezing her nipples with lustful intent. Elephantine tears of self pity swelled through her clenched eyes and rolled silently down her cheeks. How could she live through this? How could she face Max again after being used like a common two-bit street whore with these rejects of society using her hapless body to satiate their own warped desires? What mental pain could they inflict on her that they hadn't already? What physically disgusting acts would they force her into? No . . . no . . . she couldn't go through with this.

"You're the one who told that man to tie me up! Admit it, you stinking nigger. NIGGER!" she spat up at him, her soft cum-encrusted upper lip curdling with contempt. Her blue eyes were riveted on the dark glaring orbs of the six-foot-three-inch Negro looming over her. "Get away from me . . . don't touch me!"

"I don' know what you be talkin' 'bout, Miz. I jes' take care of yo' roses."

"Don't deny it! You're the He John was talking about. He would never have raped me if it wasn't for you! You're the one who plotted this, you dirty bastard!" Then: "Ouch! Get your hands off me!" He tweaked her right nipple so hard she swore he was trying to rip it off.

"Don' go gettin' yo'self riled up, Miz, 'cause you an' me goin' be real close friends by the time I done with you." His eyes were reflectors of cold-malice. "I already got me a prison sentence for one rape. Those assholes done think dry in' me out's gonna cut off ma balls, but they don' know Rover" . . . And here he raised his eyebrows in a smirk that made Rita's blood run cold: ". . . like you's gonna know Rover."

Calmly he began unzipping his jumpsuit, watching her from the corner of his eye as he pulled it down to his groin. Rita stared arrogantly back at him, refusing to lose this contest. Long and hard she stared at the throbbing pole of his glistening black penis as if trying to will it limp.

"You never had no nigger cock, huh?" Rover asked. "Ever been any big, black pricks shoved up that soft white belly of yours?" He smiled, flickering his eyes over the blonde's naked body where a damp sheen of fear glistened over her creamy skin.

Dropping his jumpsuit on the floor, Rover stepped stealthily toward her, placing his hand on one of her full naked thighs, moving it slowly upward to the soft, curling vee at the junction of her legs. Rita lay quietly beneath his touch in a temporary state of shock from the vile threats he had made, but suddenly her survival instinct took over. Her leg drew back and flashed out, narrowly missing his jaw, then pulled back for another attempt to injure him.

Before she could kick out, his huge meaty fists was clamped in a stranglehold around her ankle, pushing it back, back until her knee was bent at a sharp angle and pressed tightly against her chest. The right leg he pulled over until her foot hung over the edge of the bed and her naked genitals were wide open vistas, wide open and defenseless.

"Get your hands off me, you pig," she snapped, encouraged by her near success in the struggle.

"Bitch, you jus' showed you ain' nothin' special but a dumb white bitch. Tha's gonna cost you some pain," the black growled. "Now shut up or you're goin' be hur-tin'! "

Rita clenched her teeth tightly together, her face locked in a determined expression of defiance that seemed to increase with each moment.

"You gonna play my way, girl?" he demanded.

Rita grunted, beads of perspiration dotting her satiny forehead from the pain of the contorted position of her legs; still she refused him the joy of hearing her complain. Not even the fear that was raging within her tied-down body could overcome the intense revulsion and hatred she felt for this evil-minded man and the other feeble-minded person who'd fallen under Rover's influence. She had to resist, even though she knew her fate as prisoner was inescapable. The solace of knowing her humiliation and debasement would be none of her own doing might help her to live with herself after this horrible afternoon had ended.

"You asked for it," he growled, angry and frustrated by her unexpected resistance. For a demure blonde, this woman had a lot of spunk. "Now it's time you's in prison-behind 'dem walls, bein' rehabilitated."

Stepping forward, he quickly untied one hand from its corner of the bed. The circulation gushed hotly along the arm's capillaries, making her veins flush with blood. For one joyous moment, Rita thought he might free her, but with cruel power he jerked her arm to the opposite bedpost and retied it above her other wrist. As an afterthought, he pulled a dirty handkerchief from his jumpsuit pocket and forced it between her trembling lips, filling her mouth with the soft cloth until he was sure no sound could be heard through the wadding. Rover snickered with mirthless glee at the sight of the tied-up, naked blonde with the dirty rag stuffed between her soft lips. Rather like a pig for roasting, he thought amusedly, his brain roiling with contempt.

Rita could see the muscles rippling beneath the shimmer of his gleaming black skin as he reached down and firmly grasped her white hips, then flipped her over onto her stomach, holding her in place by a huge calloused palm pressed like a sandbag into the small of her back. Rita cringed down into the mattress with the subservient fear of a small dog cowering before the switch. Bubbling pleadings leaked out around the rag stuffed brutally in her mouth.

"Now listen, li'l gal," she heard him chuckle. "We's gonna to do some rehabilitatin'-jus' like your husband do behind 'dem walls. Now you's de prisoner and I'm on de outside, you un'erstand?" Rita heard movement behind her, saw his naked legs scissoring toward the closet and her stomach knotted with fear when he said:

"Maybe dis will show ya wh' I means?"

The belt cracked through the air like a gun shot, the tip biting into the left cheek of her ass with a sickening slap that made Rita's throat contract with agony. Instinctively, her leg shot out and a whine could be heard through the cloth gag.

"Now, baby, you's gonna beg ol' Rover for a li'l nigger cock," she heard him taunt her, his words punctuated by the snorting of his angrily flaring nostrils.

Rita tired to speak, tried to beg him not to hit her again, but only a muffled mumbling came from her lips. The belt sang through the air, crackling, this time smacking her between her open thighs on the ultra-sensitive flesh. The belt raised and slapped again and again, tracing a painful path of tiny red welts on her ivory skin. Rita's teeth were clenched, her heart thudding, every muscle in her body taut and ready for the next bite of pain.

It ceased.. . but her body refused to relax, intuitively knowing that this man had only begun to inflict punishment. Strong hands gently lifted her head and ripped the rag from her mouth, nearly taking her front teeth with it.

"I wanna hear ya beg, gal," he said in a seductive tone that made Rita's flesh crawl.

Rita slowly opened her eyes to see the black man's rubbery manhood jutting out ominously from a patch of jungle-thick pubic kinks. It looked like the raised black arm of a revolutionary with two fists beneath it. The sight of it filled her with an unspeakable fear.

"Fuck me . . . do whatever you want.. . but please . . . don't use the belt on me . . . I can't stand it . . . please, please fuck me with your nigger cock." The words flowed out of her mouth meaninglessly; she might as well have been reading the Declaration of Independence. One final long, low whimper and her body went limp on the bed.

Rover towered above her, grinning broadly. If anything could give him satisfaction, it would be breaking Doc Henshaw's wife's will, degrading the voluptuous young bride of the man who humiliated and embarrassed them all in group therapy sessions where they sat hating themselves, his insinuations forcing regret that was too painful to face. Yes, Henshaw was one hated man, a man with the power to make them change their attitudes about themselves.

To punish Rita further would have been meaningless; it might take away her strength, and that she would be needing. Oh, would she? His eyes darted over her body as she lay unresisting, slim and generously curved at the buttocks and shoulders which flared out breath takingly from her narrow waist. Demure and doll-like, this one.

Rita stretched across the mattress, trying to move as few muscles in her pain-wracked body as possible. Any ideas of defiance she might have harbored had been beaten out of her by that lashing belt. Why postpone the inevitable rape which was certain to be her fate? If they were to conquer her, it would be by brute force; that she had proven.

Her spine snapped, and her flesh crawled as hands suddenly moving over her shoulders and muscle-taut back, rubbed softly as if to ease her tenseness. "Okay," she heard him mutter, "now I wan' you to take a good long look at this hunk a black meat, cause in a minute it's gonna be buried up inside your white belly where's nobody can see it."

Wearily, Rita compliantly raised her head and stared at the long vein-flushed sausage he held over her head like a punishing rod. It was hard, ebony, glistening with lust worked up during her beating. Her wide blue eyes traced a slow path up his shining black body to his grinning face, auraed with evil. Her eyes housed a final, futile plea for mercy, but found nothing but triumph and blazing lust in his countenance.

"Ain' that a purty sight?" he tormented.

Rita's mouth opened, but she couldn't find the breath to speak. Hoarse gasps were all that would come.

"Ain' it?" he snarled, a sinister threat veiled by the cold smile he wore.

"I-it's wonderful," she faltered in a cracked voice through the curtain of fear and humiliation.

"Tha's good ya think so," he drawled. "That li'l hunk a meat is gonna fill yo'r belly so full a black cum you's gonna have to swim to keep from drownin!"

As Rita's head dropped back on the bed, she heard laughter from behind her at the black man's obscene remark. Her fear thickened. More men were coming to join the rape of Doctor Henshaw's wife! The stench of alcohol-laden breath reeked in the air.

"Hey, Rover," she heard a strange voice chuckle. "I thought you was gonna get the lady worked up for us. She don't look like she's got much oomph left for ol' Charlie."

"Hey, don' you worry, non," the black man laughed. "I had to' get the lady relaxed . . . you knows what I mean. She'll be ready for fuckin' in a minute or two."

They were talking about her as though she were a dog ready for breeding, Rita thought. If only she could call for help, attract attention to the house. But wishing was useless; the moment of truth had come. She felt a body drop to the bed and roll against the full length of her goose bumped back. She looked up to see someone's hands untying the knotted neckties that bound her to the bed. They knew they had her; she wouldn't run now. John was stationed outside the house and with the ebony giant and his lanky, lean companion whom she'd never seen, she had no strength to fight. Then a shiver, cold and suffusing, traveled the bumpy path of her spine. Someone's hands were slowly forcing her knees apart.

Tensing the muscles of her thighs, she fought to keep her legs closed, but it was a hopeless struggle. The naked flesh lying beside her rolled over her and dropped between her long, shapely limbs as they were stretched across the mattress until her toes hung on either side of the rumpled bedclothes. A tiny, despairing moan escaped her as she felt the rubbery hardness of an erect male organ pressing hot and wet against the soft flesh of her thigh, just below her nerve-centered vaginal slit. He wiggled forward, wedging the huge stalk along soft, vulnerable crevice of her quivering buttocks. In silent protest, she desperately writhed her hips to free her lower quarters, but her only reward was the sound of the man's harsh breathing as her struggle incited his angered lust.

"Git up on dem knees, girl," he breathed.

It was Rover speaking, she realized. That hotness pressing against the base of her spine was his poling black penis and he no doubt wanted her to take it from behind-like an animal. Hot streams of tears wetted the sheets as she thought of the gardener's ebony skin pressed against her own velvety white flesh. I can't let him touch me . . . can't let him contaminate me like he did the roses, she thought with disgust almost too thick to swallow down.

But Rover was not a man to be easily put off. Powerful hands gripped her hips, pulling them up from the bed; another hand pressed firmly at the nape of her neck to keep her breasts and face down on the mattress. Rita groaned in helpless humiliation as she visualized the shameless sight of her naked white ass being offered up to him like a gift to the king God. For a few agonizing seconds, he scraped his lengthy cock within the warm, moist valley of her buttocks, grinding and squeezing the trembling flesh to form a luscious, tantalizing pocket around his throbbing organ. Then, suddenly, he moved away, and gently slid his fingers down to the thin, blood-fed folds of her fleshy vagina, softly caressing the delicate tissues. Under the experienced probing of his fingertips, the black man could feel a slick moisture forming on the insides of her thighs as, in response to the unexpected tenderness, she let her backside slip wider and wider apart, the muscles relaxing.

Max had never touched her so gently! Oh, why was that! The blonde bride fought to hold back a gurgling moan growing from deep within her chest. The lessening of the pain, the sudden and unexpected gentleness of the gardener's touch, her own fatigue were battering against the wall of resistance. Despite fear and loathing, she experienced a searing hot flame suddenly licking at the door to her bowels. Pinpricks of glorious sensation danced madly under her skin, following the course of the black man's fingers teasing up between her silken thighs. His touch was maddening, insistent, ever crawling toward the hairy target between her legs. Above her Rita could hear the fevered liquored breathing of the other man as he watched, mesmerized by the sight of Rover's black fingers playing this beautiful young white woman's body with the gourmet touch of a Negro Don Juan. It made the bulge in his jumpsuit spurt a wet spot onto the crotch. Now he was damned glad Rover had talked him into sharing this delicate morsel . . . damn glad, indeed!

"Oooooooh, God, ooooohhh!" the monosyllables hissed from Rita's lungs as she felt one thick black finger worm itself into the burning, itching folds of her throbbing vagina. He was taunting her, breaking down resistance like crumbling brick walls under explosion and quite unconsciously, she pressed her hips backward to gather more of the exquisite sensation carried by that insolently invading finger.

Above her, Rover grinned the smirk of a cat with feathers entwined in its whiskers. The smooth rounded cheeks of her ass relaxed before his hotly gleaming eyes. Gleefully, he ran his middle finger all the way into the depths of her cunt and smiled wider as she instantly responded, screwing back on his hand and releasing a deep sigh of involuntary satisfaction. Her breath was coming in small, muffled gasps as he flicked his finger in and out in sloshing rhythm in her wildly jerking buttocks.

Yet she lay still, the voluntary muscles of her body answering the call of his insinuating movements. The muscles of her vagina worked like a fish's mouth, opening and closing tightly around the long, knuckled length of finger sunk deep inside her velvety cuntal walls. Rover knew how to turn-on a woman, and now he deliberately put those talents to work.

And he knew he was on the winning side. Rita's cries became one long continuous moan as he suddenly withdrew his finger from the warmth of her cuntal hole and began massaging her hard, throbbing clitoris, polishing it like a brass knob. The sensation was teeth shattering and maddening. Pulling and teasing at it, he watched triumphantly as her buttocks churned and ground before him in a lewd dance of desire.

God, this black man was loosening the screws to her libido, Rita shamefully realized. Lord, from the creaminess inside her pussy, she must be ready to orgasm! Her cunt seemed to have a mind of its own, blossoming wider and wider until warm trickles of lubricating fluids ran down the insides of her wide-stretched legs. The sound of his finger fucking took on a warm, musky smelling sloshiness that could be heard throughout the room, echoing off the walls like screams from her female psyche.

Rover was no fool. He could tell when a lady was about to dampen her panties, and this one was but a few strokes off. He wanted to ram his cock into that tight hole, wanted to feel her smooth muscles tightening around his cock as she reached that screaming orgasm. He'd show this white bitch that nigger cock was just as good and maybe a whole lot bigger than anything her chicken ass husband could put out! Ol' Rover was about to fill that pussy, he gloated to himself. The years of being put behind bars, humiliated and subjugated by doctors who thought they were God's gift to rehabilitation came to a seething head inside his lust-controlled body. like a bunch of Jesuses they ran around the Center's halls in white jackets giving the inmates silly encouragements. Shit, if they'd just let him drink herself to death that would have been his punishment . . . but no. The fact that he was a convicted rapist was a secondary matter to this man who'd spent the last forty years of his life rotting his liver with alcohol.

"Hey, Rover . . . you gonna fuck 'er now?" It was Charlie speaking in a chisely voice. "We ain' got all day, ya know."

Rover was up on his knees in back of Rita now, the swollen fatness of his black cock pressing against the tight, elastic opening of her cunt. Rita felt it begin a slow prodding and working against the warm, blood-swollen folds, parting them and worming its way past the ring of flesh that guarded the entrance to her womb.

"Ooooohhh . . . no . . . don't. . . you can't . . . ! " she gasped, even as she felt the tender lips of her vagina being stretched apart. Flexing his hips powerfully, he surged into her like a great drill tunneling deep into her white belly. Since the beating Rita's mind had been a fogged, dulled haze of sensations, but this sudden assault on her vagina cleared that fog like a burst of a rain cloud. She gnashed her teeth, hating this man for taking his pleasure with her against her will. She was his prisoner, he the master now. Her body trembled in a new world of moral agony. To accept his fingers inside of her was one thing, but having his penis burrowed deep up inside the secret passageway reserved for love and honor was disgusting. A finger couldn't orgasm, but a penis could-and no doubt would. Shooting her belly full of Negro cum, it would blacken her soul forever. It made her want to vomit. Her cunt walls burned and throbbed from the mammoth size of him stuffed inside her belly. Rita Henshaw had never felt so soiled, so filled with dark emotions in her entire life. Worse, far worse than the time when her mother discovered her youngest daughter seated before the bedroom mirror, exploring the secret between her young thighs.

The degrading reality of being hopelessly trapped on the bed between the hands of a convict in front and the thick, ebony cock impaling her from behind roused strange emotions within Rita's soul. Now that the fight was ended, only one emotion could come to play: Masochism. The thrill of wicked excitement coursed through her body as she interpreted this ravishment as her just punishment for yesterday's follies. Some divine power must have ordained it-that she be subjugated and humiliated to pay for her infidelity to her husband-for ever having thought adulterous thoughts. At least she was paying for it now, she thought. Physical pain was easier to bear than harboring self-hatred which, piled up year after year, could leave her frigid and filled with self-loathing. Better it be over with now.. . far better, she thought dully. To accept the punishment promised cleansing and she began to undulate her buttocks in salacious circles in rhythm to the long, thick cock that had begun to slowly fuck her from behind. The movement slickened the path from his chafing organ, bringing a sense of bittersweet pleasure in its wake.

"Sheeeit, man," chided Rover. "This girlie's got a pussy tight as a whore's mouf. Hump that ass, baby . . . hump dem ass buns!"

Clamping her teeth over lower lip so hard it drew blood, Rita held back the tears of rage as she pressured back. To her shocked horror, he lunged toward her again, forcing another inch of hard male flesh into her vagina. So filled was Rita with male cock, it felt as if the tip had banged against her tender cervix and was doubling over. He's not even all the way in yet, her mind bawled. Terrorized, she clenched the muscles of her buttocks tightly together to keep the huge staff from boring up into her intestines to pulverize her.

Streaming tears splattered against the bed clothes. "Please.. . no more.. . " she begged. "I-I can't take it all." In a sense, it was an admission of defeat. Not only had he humiliated her on a moral level, but now he was questioning her putting her sensual capacities to the test.

"Honey . . . you got a bunch more comin," the black gardener chuckled. "Hump back, honey, 'cause Ah'm gonna give you a merry-go-ride on dis black cock o' mine." Her struggles and muscle-tensing incited Rover to greater misdeeds. The black man rammed forward again, crashing into her pelvic bone with all the strength he possessed until the huge rubbery head of his cock spanked her cervix and his balls slapped punishingly down against her throbbing clitoris. God, it was monstrous!

Rita felt as if her buttocks where the two halves of a dinner roll being torn apart for buttering. That huge black rod he had waved tauntingly before her face a moment ago was now sunk all the way into her. She felt someone's hand softly stroking the white globes of her quivering buttocks. Other hands kneaded and squeezed at her breasts, tearing at the diamond chips of her nipples until they stood out like rose buds. Within her tender belly the huge black skinned, blue-veined cock flexed like a clenching fist ready to strike, stretching and soothing her ravished vagina as she gradually felt her cuntal muscles loosening the stranglehold on his cock.

"Good, ain' it lady?" It was Charlie again, his breath foul and hot, steaming down on her face and bathing it in alcoholic rancidness. "How does the Doc lady like havin' a black cock rammed up 'er cunt?" taunted the bony lankiness of Charlie, a middle-aged man embittered against women. His wife, after years of physical and moral abuse by her husband who was trying to commit suicide by the bottle, had effectively taken him to court on grounds of rape.

Before Rita could summon the strength to answer, another hand ran like sandpaper over her goose bumped spine, following the bony ridges down to the split of her ass. Without warning, a finger chafed its way deep into the confines of her tight, unused anus.