Chapter 2
Motorcycle Sadists
The afternoon of May 15, 1970 was the most horrible day in Joanne Newberry's life. For on that day six free-wheeling bearded and dirty motorcycle riders came to her house in search of gasoline for their empty vehicles. Joanne was not afraid as she opened the front door of her five room frame house to one of the youths who at first appeared to be alone.
Joanne did not suspect anything was wrong. That the boys had been indeed keeping a watchful eye on her during the past four days. At the time Jonah Scott walked towards her front door he knew that the house was occupied only by a lonely woman and her crippled mother who spent her waking hours confined in a wheel-chair. Jonah and his 'gang' knew they would find little resistance as they forced their way into the residence of Joanne and Bill Newberry's secluded farm house.
Bill Newberry ran a small dairy farm consisting of seventeen registered Holstein cows. Bill and Joanne cared for their stock together, milking around five in the evening when BUI came in from work. Until then, the cycle gang realized, Joanne and her crippled mother would be very much alone.
Joanne stood staring at the youth in tattered blue jeans, black cycle boots, a red shirt and a tattered black leather vest. The youth was in his early twenties she guessed. His sunken eyes were a dark brown beneath the bushy eyebrows and the full beard. His face and arms were well-tanned testifying to the fact he had spent many hours in the hot sun. When Joanne opened the front door of her small farm house she saw only one lone boy. He was holding a gasoline can in his hand. He looked like someone who had lost his only friend.
"Lady . . ." Jonah smiled slowly, licking his tongue over his upper lips, "do you have any spare gas? My bike ran out a mile down the road. I bet the nearest station is miles from here!"
"Ten miles to be exact ..." Joanne smiled, feeling pity for the dust covered youth. "It's a long walk. And strangers around here don't pick up rides too easy."
"I know . . . ," Jonah grinned. "I can pay for the gas. I prayed all the way up here someone would have some petrol."
"Wait a minute. I'll find the keys to the tank down at the barn. You must be a stranger here." "Just passin through."
"Be back in a minute — mother! . . ." Joanne shouted, at the aging woman in a wheel chair. She clutched at the keys in her purse.
Jonah smiled with satisfaction. Down at the barn, hidden behind the tie stalls that must have at one time held a team of horses, five of Jonah's rough and greasy friends were crouched and waiting. They had thoroughly gone over their surroundings. They knew that Mrs. Newberry would be alone and very vulnerable. They also knew that the grey-haired lady in the wheel chair who must have been in her sixties would not present any threat to them. They needed a supply of food, money and clothes desperately.
Jonah watched Joanne open the screen door. She walked down the brick walkway to the barn. Beneath the thin pink cotton skirt Jonah could glimpse Joanne's fleshy buttocks moving to a rhythmic tempo. Jonah could feel the stiff jerk of his growing prick inside his pants. Jonah reflected that he and his five companions that compromised the tight-knit group known as the "Titans" were pretty self-sufficient. They could steal all the food and drugs they needed. Even the cash was pretty easy to come by if you knew how to be a silent thief.
Sex was the only thing the group hadn't found easy to obtain. Not unless they wanted to indulge in homosexual orgies. Even then a real guy longed for some nice warm womanly cunt to curl up to and slip his arching penis inside.
"It won't be long — baby ..." Jonah whispered to himself. "Just keep your cool a few minutes more."
Joanne walked to the side of the barn where the gasoline tanks were. She moved the key into the lock. Joanne slid the metal gas container under the nozzle. She pumped until the container felt full. Jonah smiled a satisfied grin. Suddenly Jonah realized he would have to maneuver Joanne into the barn before he could overpower her. There was a slight risk that the old woman at the house might be peeping out the window, see the struggle, and wheel herself to the phone to call the police.
"Have you any water in the barn?" Jonah questioned. He capped the container. "I'm dying of thirst."
"Come up to the house if you like ..." Joanne whispered. "Maybe you'd like something to eat."
"Oh — no — maam ..." Jonah quipped. "Just a drink from the barn. That's all. Gosh — maybe you wouldn't mind me resting in the hay a while. I am kind of tired."
Joanne gave the youth a wide smile. The boy was embarrassed and afraid to come to the house for some reason. Joanne had never had any children. She and Bill had always wanted a large family. But she had proven incapable of conceiving though she had tried hard enough. Somehow Joanne did not fear Jonah. By himself he looked harmless. Although he was ragged and dirty there was a sparkling innocence in those big dark eyes. Joanne saw the scar that ran along his right cheek in a jagged trail. It did not appear to make Jonah frightening. No — Jonah appeared to be a drifter. Someone who had no roots. Perhaps he had seen to many of the evil things in life.
Joanne didn't realize how much she underestimated her companion until she pushed the barn door shut. She walked to the water spigot. She drew Jonah a tin cup full of cool stream water. Joanne bent over to fill a plastic container when she felt several pairs of hands roughly molesting her.
"Quiet — lady . . . ," a rough masculine voice threatened. Joanne felt herself being spun around. She found herself gazing into the cold deadly eyes of a tall lean bearded youth wearing a black leather shirt and dark rawhide pants. A silver concho belt lashed through the belt hooks holding the trousers against the youth's narrow waist.
Joanne trembled. She stared up at those cold steel eyes. Joanne had never before seen such hatred written on such a young face. Even the derelicts lined on the streets begging did not present such rough contenances.
"My name's Pedro . . . ," the lean youth hissed through the broken yellowish teeth. "We got ourselves in a little fracas downtown. We got to hide out here a while. So just cooperate little lady and nothing bad is going to happen to your pretty little face."
Joanne surveyed the faces of the four other leering youths. All eyes were cool and firm. The hair, worn long, down over the tattered collars of their dusty shirts, was unkempt and filthy to the extreme. One youth wore a bicycle chain around his waist with a silver hook for a belt. Joanne noted that the thick knives in the sheaths at their sides appeared to be stained with blood or rust. One of the youths, a red-headed boy with shining blue eyes that seemed somewhat innocent, despite the thick stubble of beard, was flashing a small .25 automatic pistol.
"You're in for a good time — sugar!" Arnie laughed. "God — you're pretty. We've been hiding in the hills the past four days. I've had my eyes moving up your skirt since I first laid eyes on you. I told the others you'd be a cool dish. We're getting damn hungry so we decided to give you the benefit of our illustrious company. I hope you don't mind lady. But after four days hiding from the fuzz in these hills anything in a skirt would look good to me."
For the first time Joanne felt a sharp stab of fear. Jonah was staring at her, surveying her with unsympathetic eyes. Joanne stared at the prominent bulge in the front of his dusty pants. She knew that the youth was erotically aroused by her presence.
"My husband's in the house . . ." Joanne lied, feeling a thick lump rising in her throat, cutting off her breath. "Bill will be out in a few minutes. He doesn't care for drifters."
"Your old man went to work at 5:30 this morning," Cassel grinned. The youth reached down to scratch the noticeable lump in his groin. "Your old man won't be home until almost six tonight. We been watching you — lady. We know there's just you and the old crippled dame up at the house. We plan on having ourselves a ball until six tonight. Then maybe we'll cut out and say good-bye to this part of the state for a long, long time."
Pedro, Cassel and Arnie stood surrounding Joanne. They leered and made indecent gestures towards her. Three other companion youths, Marty, Vance and Jonah walked around the barn familiarizing themselves with their surroundings.
"Look at that baby cow! .. ." Vance whooped. "Is it a bull or heifer?"
"A young angus steer ..." Joanne voiced, trembling. "Leave him alone. He's from champion stock. Please — get our money, our food and whatever else you need. Just get out of here!"
"Lady. . . ," Arnie laughed, standing spread-legged with his thumbs looped through the black leather belt, "you sound like you're afraid of us. Are you? I mean — why would a pretty woman like you be afraid of six guys who like her? I know you're bound to like sex. We see you crawlin' all over that big tall hubby of yours every night when he comes in. We seen the two of you kissin' in the loft with our binoculars. We know you like a man. So why should you be afraid of six of us? We won't do nothing worse n' rap in you. I promise!"
"Get out of here! . . ." Joanne cried, terrified. "Leave me alone!"
Joanne made a sudden break for the barn door. She found sudden strength as she plunged through the crowd and ran for her life across the brick pavement. Joanne plunged through the hay that had dropped from the loft. She heard the loud sound of an angry voice behind her. Joanne felt her feet being pulled out from under her. Joanne screamed. She toppled into the soft mount of hay.
"Honey — baby! ..." Jonah gasped, falling on top of Joanne as their bodies crumbled simultaneously. "This is no way to treat guests. Let's show some proper hospitality."
"Holy Moses — yeah — lady!" Cassel grinned, kneeling down beside Joanne in the hay.
Cassel moved his thick stubby fingers to her soft pink skirt. Cassel lifted the thin material feasting his hungry eyes on those thin soft panties. Cassel placed a bold hand on Joanne's abdomen. He delighted in and savored the stark terror that was written on her face.
"Honey — be good to us! . . ," Cassel grinned. "We're famous. You probably heard about the drug store that was robbed three days ago. We're the cats that pulled it off. We got $650 cash plus enough drugs in our cycle bags to last us another year. Maybe we'll even turn you on — chick! I bet you'd climb a cock if you were turned on. How about it sugar?"
Joanne felt four rough hands ripping at her underwear. Joanne felt her blouse being torn off and her ripe breasts exposed. Joanne had always found it unpleasant to wear a brassiere during the summer months. So for the past two years she had refrained from wearing one. The only time she ever adorned one was when she went to the grocery store. The youths were grateful that her full ripe breasts hung free like milky coconuts hanging from a tree.
"What lovely boobies . . . ," Jonah gasped. He teased his finger over the flesh.
"Hey — suck me OFF!" Vance quipped, pumping his rigid cock from inside his faded blue jeans.
Joanne turned in time to see Vance shoving his meaty prick into the young calf's eager mouth. Joanne was shocked the way the newborn pet was lolling its red tongue along the firm underside of his penis. Joanne watched the full length of the penis being sucked into the calf's mouth. Joanne was speechless as she saw the cow sucking the juice.
"What a rough tongue! ..." Vance groaned. He pulled the calf's black fuzzy ears. "He sucks better n' any woman I ever had. I never knew a dumb animal could suck like that!"
"You're a city dude! . . ." Marty quipped. He wiped the manure from his boots against the brick tile. "Didn't you know all farmers suck and fuck their pets. That's why Kinsey's statistics on bestiality run so high in rural communities,"
"What would you know about Kinsey and sex?" Cassel jived.
"I've read a few books," Marty boasted. "I bet they even fuck that big collie dog over there. See her laying in the corner like she's been spanked for playing with herself?"
"Leave Misty alone!" Joanne cried. "He's an old dog. He was kicked by a cow. Please — don't bother him!"
Cassel jerked the shy and sullen dog to its feet by the thick chain that was tied to its collar. The collie was lean and old looking, but proved to be quite friendly once aroused.
"Do you fuck your collie dog — lady?" Pedro questioned, eyeing the rising bulge in his groin.
"You know damned well I don't," Joanne hissed through thin angry lips.
Pedro forced her down in the hay next to the collie. Pedro and Jonah pulled her thighs apart. Pedro pushed the dog's nose right against her cunt. Misty sniffed but paid little attention to the human pudenda near his tri-colored face. Vance went to the huge milk container and withdrew a warm pan of liquid from the cooler.
"The tit juice ain't even cool yet," Vance sniggered. "Maybe the dumb dog will lick milk from her cunt."
Vance pushed the pan of warm liquid towards Joanne's cunt. He dripped the fluid down onto it. Joanne wanted to scream for help. But she was afraid. There was a dangerous gleam in Vance's eye. One that told her to cooperate rather than fight. Joanne lay helpless. Misty sniffed between her thighs.
"Lick it old man!" Arnie jabbered. "Come — lick-the-cunt!"
Misty began slowly lapping the warm milk from Joanne's bushy pudenda. Joanne looked as if she would die of humiliation. She did not make a move to kick the dog away. She knew Misty was old and growing weak in his legs. Though she had never allowed an animal to perform cunnilingus on her before she allowed Misty to make intimate contact with her genitalia with his tongue. The boys stood around stroking the bulging erections beneath their trousers.
"Excuse me — studs! .. ." Vance laughed, "but I gotta have it. Right now!"
All of a sudden Vance pounced on top of Joanne. Vance threw her back in the hay. Vance's rough beard scratched her soft cheeks. His hot tongue thrust between her lips. Joanne screamed as two older boys held her down. Vance kissed her. He bit her lips with painful urgency. Joanne was too terrified to scream as the youth unzipped his fly and hauled out a swollen priapus.
"Don't I have a beauty — lady?" Vance teased. He mashed it between Joanne's thick tits. "I've fucked off lots of times before between a girls boobies. Do you like it that way — honey?"
Joanne was too frightened to answer.
All of a sudden Vance mashed her breasts together, shoving his cock between those twin orbs. The head of his penis shot upward towards Joanne's mouth. Vance pumped his pink meat in and out between her breasts. Joanne closed her eyes. She tried hard to forget the horrible thing that was happening to her. She felt the hot spewing prick being forced between her lips. She tried to resist. Vance twisted her nipple until she opened her mouth.
"Suck my jizz — baby!" Vance demanded. "I'll fuck you when you get into the house.
Jonah gave orders for four of the boys to sneak into the house to take the old crippled woman captive. Meanwhile the youths amused themselves feeling Joanne up and kissing all over her body. Jonah bent down to thrust his beard between her thighs. His tongue found her slit. Jonah drove his tongue deep inside.
"Suck her - BABY!" Arnie cheered. "Make her want it-bad!"
Joanne watched as Arnie uncapped a bottle and swallowed four suspicious looking capsules. Joanne had no idea what they were. She was amazed at t youths ability to swallow them with only his spittle to wash them down.
Joanne lay there with the foul smelling boys tongue shoved in her cunt. Joanne did not respond to the lavish tongue motions between her thighs. She was too frightened. Nothing about the youths appealed to her or made her want sex in the least. Joanne realized she was much too frightened to feel anything. She ignored Arnie's remark that she moved like a corpse.
"Pedro has some canthride potion in his pocket, I think ..." Jonah smiled. "I think maybe a little 'Spanish Fly' in her system may make her much more responsive. I hate fucking something that lays like a stiff. I remember once four of us broke into a mortuary and spent the night copulating the pretty stiffs. I never will forget the feeling of cold dead flesh! This dame feels like someone who's been embalmed for days!"
"It's clear . . . you guys! . . ." came a loud shout from the house.
Joanne felt herself being shoved up her own brick drive-way. The screen door was shut as she was shoved into her own home.
Joanne glimpsed Cassel sitting on the side of their antique mahogany dining room table. Cassel was flashing the small silver .25 automatic pistol. Joanne almost vomited when she saw what he was doing. Joanne saw Cassel had her mother's wheel chair rolled up under the table so that the old woman's face and chest remained above the table. Cassel was sitting there with his dirty legs spread wide on either side of the wheel chair. Mrs. Irma Wheeler, her sick and widowed mother, was forced between the dirty youth's legs. Cassel held the small pistol pointed right between her mother's eyes. Cassel was giggling like a maniac in some psychopathic ward."
"Eat it — old woman!" Cassel laughed. "Get a good taste of YOUNG cock! I bet it's been a long time since you had one like that! Come on — old girl — suck it all down. Make me come! If you could walk I'd lay you on the table and screw you myself."
"Oh - MOTHER!" Joanne sobbed. She tried to break free of the three pairs of arms that restrained her. "Please — leave my mother alone. She's an old woman. She'd done nothing to harm you. PLEASE!"
"Shut up - bitch!" Arnie laughed. "The old bitch is getting her some nookie the best way she knows how. Would you deny a dying woman her last taste of HOT sex?"
"Oh — mother!" Joanne sobbed. "I'm sorry!"
"Shut up!" Pedro demanded, stroking the smooth bulge in his groin. "I hate to see a dame cry. It's time you went upstairs and got turned on to some cock yourself."
Joanne watched Cassel shove his prick deep down into her mother's throat. Then Joanne saw Cassel remove his cock and spew the potent juice all over her mother's wrinkled face. Joanne whispered a prayer of thanks for the fact that her mother had a strong heart.
Upstairs in the bathroom Pedro forced her to take something which he told her was Spanish Fly. Joanne was too overcome with grief to care what happened to her. She could not wipe out the image of Cassel shooting his wad of juice down her mother's wrinkled face.
Pedro stripped her of all of her clothing. Pedro removed his own clothing with three other boys watching. Pedro had thick well-muscled legs. His entire body was covered with dark black hairs. Joanne stared at the immense phallus that arched upward. She did not try to fight as Pedro covered her trembling body with his own. Joanne felt the violent cock thrust between her thighs. She knew the drug they had given her was very powerful.
Pedro nudged his reluctant prick between her hot thighs. He pushed against the vaginal opening. Pedro slid the head against her clitoris, teasing, as if he half expected her to reach out and grab it.
"Do you want it baby?" Pedro whispered. He nibbled her ear-lobe. "In a few minutes you'll want it so bad you'll scream for it!"
Joanne felt the itching and burning sensations growing stronger between her thighs. Her entire genital area felt like it was on fire. Joanne didn't know what was happening to her. She had never felt such a strange and overwhelming feeling before. Suddenly she felt herself straining towards the hot phallus shoved between her thighs.
"Beg me for it — kid!" Pedro winked. "Come on — honey. All you've got to do is ask me for it!"
"Oh — god — it burns!" Joanne gasped. She twisted her body violently beneath the muscular youth. "Oh — do something. Please stop that ungodly itching. It's driving me crazy!"
"Beg me for it — baby!" Pedro laughed. He rubbed his pulsating phallus frantically between her eager thighs.
"Oh — do something!" Joanne shouted. "Oh — FUCK ME! Do anything — but put that fire out inside of me!"
"She yells like a stinking whore for it," Arnie gasped, gasping his own stiff meat-stick.
Vance, who was standing watching Pedro move his aching penis into the passionate vagina suddenly got down on his knees. Joanne turned her head so she didn't have to look into the frenzied eyes of her attacker. She knew she would find a desperate drug-lust written in Pedro's eyes as he drove his phallic organ deep into her womb.
Joanne watched as Vance opened his mouth to admit the swollen cock that stuck out from Arnie's abdomen like some eager animal. She watched Arnie shove his rigid meat-stick into the bearded youth's face. Joanne had the wildest sensations of pleasure as Pedro kept pounding inside her. Joanne became excited watching Arnie copulating Vance's mouth which looked like a hairy woman's cunt since it was covered with a thick beard.
Joanne watched the fuck-off between the two bearded youths. Vance seemed to be eating every damn inch of the hard penis. She watched Vance work his finger between Arnie's buttocks. All of a sudden Vance ploughed deep just as Arnie shot his load into his mouth.
Joanne could no longer remain cool towards her molester. The molten fire that spread upward into her intestines was too intense to be ignored. Joanne began moving and rising to meet Pedro's wild abandoned thrusts. She dug her sharp fingernails into the boys flesh and begged for more.
"FUCK ME - harder!" Joanne gasped. She moved her body like a thrashing machine ploughing through a fertile field. "Oh — god — put out the fire! I'm dying!"
Joanne had never copulated so energetically in her entire life. She had always tried to be passionate and abandoned in her love-making. She had even gone 'down' on her husband a few times. But never before had she felt the fire that she now felt growing inside her.
Pedro thrust his hands under her buttocks forcing Joanne firmly up tight against his penis. Pedro assaulted her with abandoned lust that she thought would never subside. All of a sudden Pedro thrust a probing finger into her tight ass-hole. Joanne felt a sudden thrill like she had never felt before. Joanne thrust up to meet the pounding penis. Joanne thrust her hot sex against the root. She moved her vaginal muscles in gripping spasms against it.
"Now she's getting HOT — guys!" Pedro laughed. Pedro thrust his foul-smelling tongue into her mouth. Pedro laughed as Joanne sucked his hot tongue and almost bit it off in her eagerness. Pedro drove his cock inward in long hard strokes. Pedro wanted to arouse Joanne to the core. He wanted to give her a wild sexual thrill similar to the explosive thrill he received on drugs.
"Baby — I'm turning you on!" Pedro laughed. "Oh — honey — are you ever going to come on my love-stick!"
"Oh — gawd — do it!" Joanne laughed. She twisted her face in shame and eager desperation. "Oh — gawd — fuck me hard! Don't stop now! Make me come! Oh — make me COME!"
Pedro could not hold back any longer, for years he had concentrated on prolonging the speed with which he attained orgasmic release. He knew that a man who ejaculated too swiftly could not please a woman. Therefore he mentally concentrated on holding back his orgasm until his victim arrived at her peak. But when Joanne began clutching his prick with her own tight vaginal muscles he could do little to hinder his most natural reaction. Just then Joanne threw her legs around his buttocks and dug her fingernails into his soft fleshy thighs.
"Oh — I'm coming!" Joanne gasped. "I'm co...mi...ng! Do it to me! You come with me! N..O..W!"
Just at the very moment Joanne felt the unleashing of Pedro's load inside her. She felt the full insistent force of her own explosive orgasm. Their juices mingled in a fruitless blending of liquid desire.
Pedro flopped across the bed beside her. Marty, the quietest of the bearded bunch twisted her arm.
"Pedro wants you to perform analinctus on him!" Marty demanded. "So stick out your tongue and lick his ass-hole."
"God — I was shocked beyond belief. . ." Joanne blushed. "I'd never so much as fingered my own husband's rectum. Least of all had any desire to kiss it. But Marty was insistent. He would not be put off. He pushed me towards Pedro's gaping buttocks. He twisted my wrist until I parted those buttocks with my own fingers."
"Caress my testicles as you lick ..." Pedro laughed. "My butt's clean. Now eat it! Before I make you swallow my crap too!"
Joanne was hotly aroused as she forced the fleshy buttocks apart. She moved her mouth towards it. She tried to blot out the stench of excrement. Joanne reached to hold her nose but Marty pushed her soft hands to Pedro's testicles.
Joanne fingered the delicate orbs cautiously. She felt self-conscious and afraid. She moved her tongue toward the round hole.
"Ream it — baby!" Pedro giggled. "When you get hot I'll turn over and you can sit on my cock-pole!"
Joanne began licking the rectum. She tried to thrust her stiff tongue into the hole but it was too tight. Pedro relaxed. His entire body went limp. Joanne moved her tongue slowly inside. She was thankful he had fleshy buttocks because her tongue did not slide too far inside. Joanne fingered the testicles and licked. She felt Pedro thrusting his erection down into the mattress. Pedro moaned. He gripped the bed sheets as Joanne brought him sharp waves of violent pleasure.
"I'm going to turn over — baby!" Pedro warned. "When I do you mount my cock-pole before I loose my erection! If you don't — I promise you may wish you had!"
Pedro turned over in the bed. His prick was an angry red color. It stuck up arching upward towards his abdomen. Joanne noted the mass of thick pubic hairs around his dick and scrotum. She slid over Pedro's hips, desiring intimate contact with that hot meat-stick to put out the consuming fire between her thighs. Joanne wanted to fondle her own burning flesh. Instead she forced herself to mount the stiff penis!
Pedro forced Joanne to remain motionless with the bulbous cock end pressed against her dripping orifice. Pedro knew it was sheer torture to hold back the relief that his rigid phallus offered. Pedro loved every moment of hot desire that was written on the respectable woman's sensual face. Pedro fingered the cunt and flicked his tongue back and forth over the clitoris.
"I bet you never wanted it this BAD from your hubby ..." Pedro laughed. "You need a real 'gang freak' to turn you on to the ways and means of perverse sex. Now slide up and down. Give me a good ride!"
"OHOOOOO!," Joanne groaned, moving her dripping vagina down on the feverish phallus. "Oh — my god — what have you done to me? I can't help myself! I feel so guilty — but I want it so damn much!"
"Take it - baby!" Pedro muttered. "It's all yours! . . ."
Joanne could not move fast enough or swiftly enough to put out the burning pyre between her thighs. She moved up and down like a maniac gripping the hard object impaled insider her. Joanne was just discovering the burning madness of her own desire. She was helpless to resist the instinctive biological madness that was overwhelming her.
"OHOOOO . . . ummmm!" Joanne groaned. She tossed back her hair like a proud horse ready for battle. "Oh — I've never wanted it like this before!"
Joanne heard her mother downstairs begging and screaming for the bearded youths to leave her alone. But Joanne's chemically induced state of nymphomania was too intense to force aside. Joanne hoped the boys would not physically abuse her mother. Beyond that the desire spreading between her passioned thighs was the most important thing in her life. Joanne literally rubbed herself off on that stiff rod. She almost forced the testicles in her vagina. She knew Pedro was ready to erupt. She felt her own orgasm about to explode. She felt the simultaneous release. She cried out.
"OHOOOOO. OWWWWW ..." Joanne gasped. "Ummmmmm!"
Jonah pushed her on top of Pedro's body. Joanne lay helpless on top of Pedro with her buttocks thrust up into the air. Jonah moved behind her. He striped himself naked. He admired his arching prick in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Jonah spat on his hand. He rubbed his spittle down his pole. Then he forced Joanne's buttocks apart.
Joanne felt the terrible pain of entry as Jonah thrust solidly in between her buttocks. Joanne cried out! But the pleasure was more intense than the pain. Joanne felt herself rectally impaled by the thrusting male organ. She felt Pedro's cock rising inside her for another erection. She felt the two pricks fighting insider her for supremacy. She felt them in a deathly duel. She felt her spreading wider to admit the two pounding organs simultaneously. Joanne was surprised when a third cock was thrust into her mouth by Arnie who stood pulling her head down over the edge of the bed so that he could gain admittance into her mouth. Joanne had never felt so humiliated and yet so randy in her entire life. She abandoned herself to the multiple sensual pleasures that were offered to her. She forgot who was doing what to her. The only thing she knew was that repeated copulation fired the heat of her lust.
Joanne lost track of events and time as the boys took turns raping her. Only it was not rape. She most willingly consented to the sexual advances of the well-hung youths. Jonah spread some red pepper on his cock. He gave her an even more fiery cunt. By mid-afternoon Joanne was exhausted but begging for more from the six boys who offered her every brand of sex she could handle. Just before their party broke up Arnie informed her her mother was in her wheel chair chained to the banisters of the stairway.
"Boy — I sure can't raise it up again!" Pedro whistled. "Not even with a hot dame sucking it! I'm practically raw from so much sex! It's time we thought about a get-away too-you guys. Did you notice that old dilapidated cattle truck behind the barn? I bet we could run our cycle in there, close it up, and five of u could hide in the back and breeze across the state line without a fucking cop spotting us. It's safer than riding our cycles through town!"
"We can tie this angel here ..." Pedro continued. "We'll have almost five hours head start. Just think of how she'll suffer the burning lust with her hands tied so she can't even reach down to scratch between her burning thighs. That will really give us something to laugh about as we speed out of this fucking state. We can't hide in these hills forever. Someone's bound to spot us — even from a helicopter!"
"Sure. . . ." Mickey agreed, pulling his tight jeans out of the crack of his ass. "An old cattle truck will never arouse suspicion. You can't see inside. So it's a safe bet for our bikes. It's a sure-fire method for transportation out of state. Don't worry pretty lady — we won't tear up your truck. I understand farmers have problems making ends meet."
Joanne thought she would loose her mind as they tied her hands behind her back. The youths did not allow her to even put her clothes back on. She felt ashamed and abused as she lay in bed on top of the soiled sheets. They were wet with orgasmic juice. Joanne heard her mother moving the wheel-chair around in an attempt to escape her bonds. She felt her most intense fear subside as she realized her mother seemed no worse off as a result of the gang-bang.
Joanne felt the hot fire rekindling in her loins. She pulled at her bonds and tried to free herself. The lust fire grew stronger as the boys took one last look at her. Arnie whispered something about giving her another dose of Spanish Fly but Pedro signaled him to leave her alone. Pedro threw her a peace sign, two fingers in a V shape in the air. Arnie gave her the middle finger thrust high into the air to remind her of her violations.
Joanne pulled as she heard the cycles roar up into the back of the cattle truck. The lust fires kept growing stronger and more angry. Joanne could not free her hands. If only she could have moved a finger to her burning vagina she could have quieted the fire. As it was she could only thrash about in passionate agitation.
Joanne thought she would go out of her mind from the desire burning in her flesh. Joanne took her toes and pulled at the dirty white pillow at the head of the bed. It seemed an impossible task but she remembered back to her childhood days when she had masturbated herself against solid objects such as pieces of furniture, the edge of tables, chairs, desks and dressers. Joanne recalled pumping her hot vagina down against a firm pillow and receiving release.
It was very slow progress. But Joanne finally got the firm feather pillow between her thighs. Her feet were tied together but her ropes were loose enough to allow her to mount on top of the pillow.
Joanne groaned with sudden relief. She thrust her vulva downward against the cool wet material of the hand-made pillow case. Joanne felt the fire spreading. Her desire grew more intense. Joanne didn't care who saw her in sexual contact with the pillow. All she wanted to do was ease the consuming lust fire between her thighs. The pillow was the only object close enough to bring her any amount of pleasure.
Joanne pumped downward. She closed her eyes. She groaned with pleasure. In the daylight Joanne's desire became a lusty hell-fire. Joanne thought of nothing, not even her husband or her mother tied downstairs, a helpless captive of her wheel-chair.
Joanne's thoughts centered on the need growing within her body. Joanne was immensely grateful to the youths for the pillow they had left behind. Perhaps tomorrow, she realized, she would feel shame.
But right now, at this very moment, that was the farthest thing from her mind!
PSYCHOLOGICAL COMMENT:
This case history came to my attention briefly after it was reported to the police. Bill Newberry accompanied his frightened wife on her first visit to my office. During the aftermath, when the drug, Cantharides, had worn off and left her suddenly passionless Joanne was so overwhelmed with the implications of her abandoned sexual activities that she immediately sought psychiatric help.
Police found the get-away truck but to date have not located the youths. Joanne is undergoing intensive psychotherapy now and seems to have dispersed some of the intense guilt feelings she experienced as the result of the group rape experience.
Concerning motorcycle sadists they are most often a distinct group unto themselves, who band together in clandestine groups to rape, ravage and pillage specific targets of their overwhelming wrath. Many of today's criminal offenses are perpetuated by these roving cyclists. The free-wheeling leather clad bearded demi-gods wheel their churning choppers down city streets, across deserted sand dunes and into the innermost recesses of the desert in an attempt to discover new and wilder thrills.
They are most often cruel individuals who indulge in sex abuse, drug abuse and frequent alcohol consumption. They make their livings plying illegal trades, indulge in forced rape, robbery and burglary.
Many cycle sadists have no permanent homes. Nor are their sexual assaults always heterosexual. Some are definitely homosexual in nature.
Most often these individuals are social dropouts, sexual inverts and lusty psychopaths who get a distinct thrill from acts of sexual sadism. Most often they become known for their acts of VIOLENCE.
In the study of female gangs Barbara Hoffman notes in GIRL GANGS . . .
"All of society is becoming entrapped in a new kind of lust, one that exceeds any venture yet aimed to satisfy our desires for a new and better sexual kick. The new lust is violent. It's sexual. It's sexual violence. And no matter how we might cringe with loathing for some of the acts that are being committed daily we are becoming conditioned to new lusts that can, and perhaps will, make the degradation of the Roman Empire seem like kid's play."
Barbara Hoffman further notes in GIRL GANGS. . .
"Riots and group violence always produce an increase in sexual feelings. The abandonment people feel contributes to this a great deal. So does the violence which has an aphrodisiac effect upon many people. When the gang rules, emotions can run wild and without inhibitions. The clue is the loss of individual identity when individuals are part of a mob."
Sadism is a parasitic kind of sickness. Small acts which lead to pleasure motivate the sadist to greater acts of sexual violence. Sometimes sadists are sexually impotent and can only achieve arousal through the infliction of pain.
Joanne, an attractive woman, aged thirty-four, with brown hair, sparkling light blue eyes and numerous freckles admits she is overwhelmed by guilt after her group rape experience.
"I'll never be free of this guilt..." Joanne confesses, searching for some understanding of her drug induced passion. "I used to feel safe in our rural community. You could leave doors open all day long. No one would ever bother you. But now I'll always be terrified by the memory of those horrible boys! The most horrible part — the one I can't forget — is that they made me WANT it!
Joanne will be undergoing analysis for some time to come. The guilt still clings painfully to her mind. Such is the tragic results that gang rape leaves upon innocent female victims.