Chapter 8
Linda tried hard to quell the dread and t fear-stricken sense of misgiving that welled up within her while she listened to Carl unscrew the lid of the jar of vaseline. From her prostrate position on the bed she could see through the cabin window, and she was surprised to see that it was dark outside. The rain still hammered on the cabin roof. Linda hadn't realized that the sexual experiments of the group upon her shrinking flesh had continued for so long.
But bad as almost everything else had been, she was frightened by Carl's pitiless proposal most of all. The thought of anything, no matter how tiny, penetrating her extremely tight anus was enough to give her the shakes. Carl's penis, while not the largest among the boys, was sturdy enough to make her stomach quake at the queasy thought of what was in store for her if she couldn't somehow talk them out of it.
And she was already sure in her heart of hearts it was a lost cause. Charlie's indifference when she had pleaded with him not to permit it had hurt her. Mousie she had expected little from; the boy's lively curiosity precluded his saying no to any proposal in regard to Linda no matter how outrageous. Edmondo was coolly aloof to anything except his own pleasure. And Carl seemed to be actively cruel where all women were concerned.
But Charlie....
Linda didn't quite know why she had expected Charlie to come to her rescue. He had certainly abused her as much as any of the others. Only ... only not in the same way. Today, for instance. Why, if it had been just the two of them today, alone, what he had done to her would have been ... well, it wouldn't have been too bad at all.
"Crissake, you got enough there to grease the ways for a battleship," Linda heard Charlie say, recalling her to the present. The next second she felt her left buttock grabbed and a greasy gob plastered in between the deep cleft of her hind cheeks. Her thighs tightened beneath her as she instinctively started to roll away, but she checked herself. She already had a bruise on her belly to show that Carl would punch viciously when frustrated.
She forced herself to relax as Carl's rough fingers began to spread the vaseline around her tight buttonhole. The boy still had her buttocks separated so he could see what he was doing. He worked the vaseline around her anus and then began using the same little finger he had previously to force it inside. Linda writhed slowly at the indignity and the renewed finger pressure upon her tight orifice. A rising tide of panic assailed her. Good God, what happened to women who had their bottom-holes forcefully attacked? Did they have to go to the doctor? To the hospital?
"Grease your prick, Carl," Charlie said. "I'll get her ready." He picked up a pillow from the bed. "C'mon," he said to Linda, and walked to the rear cabin wall.
Linda forced herself to crawl from the bed and follow him. Mousie and Edmondo were watching Carl spread vaseline along the length and breadth of his erection. "You're It-helping him do this to me," Linda said in an undertone to Charlie. Her lips were trembling.
"Don't sweat it, sugar," he said airily. "Just do what I tell you an' you won't get hurt." He dropped the pillow on the floor and kicked it against the wall. "Kneel on that an' put your shoulder against the wall. Not your head, or your neck will twist when he starts to shove it into you. Kind of tuck your head down to one side and use your shoulder to brace yourself."
"Oooooh, this is aw-awful!" Linda said despairingly.
"Get down there," Charlie said. "Here he comes."
"N-no!" Linda cried out. "I w-won't!"
"I figured that," Charlie said calmly, and took her arm. "Edmondo, take her other arm."
The swarthy-skinned boy stepped forward, and in seconds Linda felt herself lifted from her feet and forced onto her knees on the pillow with her head against the wall. She battled futilely against the strong hands holding her as Carl dropped down on the pillow behind her, separating her feet so he could kneel between them. "Now isn't that an ass worth punking?" Carl said gloatingly. He moved in behind her plumped-out buttocks, spread them with his hands, and ran his vase-lined prong along Linda's cleft.
"No!" she wailed. "No, please! You'll-oooooooh!"
Her horrified exclamation was caused by Carl's placing the tip of his prick against Linda's rectum and shoving hard. Carl lodged the tip and shoved again.
"Nooooooo!" Linda shrieked. "You're split--ting meeeee!"
"You got it in an' you got the angle, Carl," Charlie said. "Bear down on it."
Linda screamed full-throatedly as Carl rammed at her. She could feel her sphincter slowly giving way in what felt like something tearing inside. "Shove back against it an' make it easy on yourself, you stupid cunt!" Carl snarled at her, resting for a moment.
"He's right," Charlie chimed in.
Linda could no more have shoved backward against that iron rod in her entrails than she could have flown. Instead, she tried to butt down the cabin wall with her shoulder in her effort to get away from the agonizing pain in her rear. She howled again when he resumed his plunging at her, although the acutely piercing pain had diminished to a dull aching.
"He's in," Charlie said to Edmondo.
Linda couldn't believe it.. That erection rammed all the way between her hind cheeks into her anus? But she could feel Carl's belly against her bare behind. He began to work his prick in and out of her in short, hard jabs. Linda wept, pleaded, yelled, sobbed, begged, and moaned to no avail. Carl's steady reaming of her distended asshole continued. "God, she's-tight!" Carl panted. "Her buttonhole-is pulling-at my prick-like you wouldn't-believe!" His voice rose hoarsely. "Ahhhhhhhhh Jesus! Too-soon! Too-soon!"
Linda felt his quick-jerking climax as he boiled over inside her expanded rectum. He collapsed along her back as she felt a warm, sticky fluid run from her plugged anus down into her crevice from where it dripped onto her calves. Her shoulder hurt from her constant struggle against the wall. Since Carl's quick come her anus didn't feel quite as full, but the relief was minimal.
She cried out again as he began to pull out of her. He placed his hands on her perspiration-slick waist and used it for leverage to work his way out. The diminished end of his prick emerged from her rectum with a loud popping sound. Linda quivered with relief although her insides still smarted.
"Turn her around," Carl ordered.
Before she realized what was happening, Linda was lifted bodily and swung around so that she was facing Carl. He held out his flaccid whang toward her. "Clean it off," he said. "With your mouth."
Linda thought she might faint. She stared at his penis, dripping with semen and melting vaseline. She strained backward against the arms holding her, but they forced her inexorably forward. Carl grabbed her hair and pulled her face down against his groin. He rubbed her nose in the mingled effluvia of vaseline, semen, and excrement. "Yeah, there's some of your own shit there, too," he said with a grin. "Now clean it off like I told you."
Yanking at her hair, he smeared her face with the leavings on his limp prick. "Open your mouth, damn you!" Carl said harshly, pulling at her hair until Linda thought her head was on fire.
Helplessly she opened her mouth and he crammed his dripping prick into it. Linda gagged, swallowed, gagged again, and tried to expel the prick from her mouth. Carl foiled her by taking her by the ears and pulling her face right into it. "Suck on it!" she heard from above her head as she nearly went out of her mind with pain as he twisted her ears.
She sucked on it, breathing hard and swallowing noisily. The back of her neck ached from her unnatural position. The hands on her arms dug into her flesh.
"You use your teeth an' you'll lose an ear," Carl warned her.
He pulled away from her at last and she would have collapsed except for the restraining hands on her arms which held her in a kneeling position. Charlie and Edmondo raised her and half-led, half-carried her to the bed. Her eyes were dazed, and her tongue kept licking pitifully at the comers of her mouth, trying to remove all traces of what had taken place.
"Man, he was really rough on her, wasn't he?" Mousie said in an awed tone.
"What the hell are you, chicken-livered?" Carl jeered. "That's what they like. All of them."
Charlie and Edmondo sat Linda down on the bed where she stared straight ahead.
"You've got a turn comin' if you can get a hard-on," Charlie reminded Mousie.
"Well, Jesus, I had a hard-on until I watched that." Mousie sounded uncomfortable. "She looks kinda-kinda used up, don't you think?"
Carl laughed. "There's nothing used up about her cunt. Let's see you climb on and make it with her."
Mousie hesitated, then sat down on the bed beside Linda. The younger boy seemed discomfited. He reached out a hand to one of Linda's breasts and played with it gently. He toyed with the nipple which refused to stiffen, but Mousie's slender prick rose up from between his thighs. He looked down at it in almost comical surprise.
"There you are," Carl goaded him. "Let's see you drive the spike."
Mousie stood up and lifted Linda's legs onto the bed. He slid her more into its center and moved in beside her on his knees. He placed his hands on the inside of her thighs and spread them, lowering his belly onto hers.
Linda stared up at the ceiling as she felt this manipulation which seemed to be coming for a long way off. Her parted thighs rested slackly on either side of Mousie's young body as the boy found her still-wet cunt-hole with the tip of his prick and guided it in with hand-action and joggling hips.
She laid immobile as Mousie rose and fell on her stomach. She felt the young prick deep inside her and yet she didn't feel it. Sensation seemed to have been numbed. Linda didn't know what to do with her hands as Mousie grunted and toiled.
And then the boy's skinny behind tried to fling itself in all directions at once as his rabbit-fast hips squirted his seed into Linda. He rested for a moment, breathing heavily, and then withdrew.
"Well, you made it, kid," Charlie said cheerfully.
"Yeah, but it wasn't very good," Mousie said glumly.
"Ask her how her asshole feels," Carl said with a laugh.
"Ahhhhhhh, you're sick!" Mousie announced.
"Who's sick?" Carl flared angrily.
"Each to his own mutton," Edmondo said warningly to Mousie. "That is the rule, no?"
He looked at Charlie. "I think it is time that we left here."
"Yeah," Charlie agreed. He looked at Linda still on her back on the bed. "We got to get her back to the library parkin' lot."
They sorted out the partly-dry clothes in front of the fire. "These look like they were pulled out've my asshole," Charlie grumbled.
"Or hers," Carl said with his mean laugh.
Charlie brought Linda her clothes. They were damp, wrinkled, and shapeless. He had to help her into them. With his fingers he tried to create some order in her hair but gave it up. She sat on the bed again like a mannequin when he left her to pull on his own rumpled clothing.
"We all set?" Mousie called from the cabin door. He seemed anxious to get away.
Edmondo glanced at Linda. "Can she walk?" he asked Charlie.
"Sure she can walk," Carl interjected. "She's just puttin' on."
"We're leavin' now," Charlie said to Linda.
She rose painfully to her feet, took a hesitant step and then another, and walked unsteadily to the door. Mousie was looking outside. "Still rainin'," he said gloomily. "We're gonna get wet all over again just gettin' to her car."
"Put her in the back seat," Charlie said to Edmondo. "I'll drive."
Linda remembered little of the return trip, except that it seemed to take forever. There was a dull, steady ache in her rectum, and her scalp hurt. She felt dispirited and exhausted. She looked around disinterestedly when the car stopped and realized belatedly that Charlie had pulled up beside the boys' car in the parking lot. "You guys go ahead," Charlie said. "I'll see she makes it home."
"Suit yourself," Carl said indifferently.
They ran through the rain to the other car.
Charlie drove Linda's car to her apartment. He helped her out and assisted her up the two flights of stairs. She unlocked her door and turned to say something to him, but he brushed past her and walked inside. When she entered, he slipped on the chain latch. In the living room he walked around, turning on lights.
Linda stood and watched him. "What now?" she asked. She felt no real apprehension for some reason. She had revived slightly from the emotional and physical nadir of the final thirty minutes at the cabin which she was sure now must represent the low point in her life. Automatically she toed off her muddy shoes before stepping upon the living room carpeting.
"I thought I'd give you a hot bath an' get a meal into you," Charlie said easily.
Linda stared. "After-after--" Her lips began to tremble. "-after the bbeastly things you d-did to me, h-how can you p-possibly-"
"You don't get the picture, sugar," he interrupted her. He sat down on Linda's couch and patted the space beside him. "C'mon, sit down here an' I'll explain it to you."
"There is no possible explanation," Linda said stiffly, but after a moment's hesitation she went to the couch and sat down tiredly.
Charlie regarded her with a quizzical look in his light blue eyes and a lazy smile on his handsome face. "How's your asshole?" he inquired.
"You're-you're unspeakable!" Linda blazed in the first genuine anger untouched by fear since she had found the boys in her car in the library parking lot. But her adrenalin seemed too low to maintain her indignant resentment at the intimate referral. "It's sore," she said frankly. "But my knees hurt worse."
"A tub of hot water'll fix 'em both up," Charlie assured her.
He was silent for a moment, and Linda found herself wondering what she was doing here sitting beside this boy who had helped in brutalizing her. "I'm waiting for the explanation," she said. "Although we both know there can't be a rational one."
"That's where you're wrong," Charlie said. "Your problem is you haven't properly sized up this scene we're in." He waved a hand. "I mean the world. There's victims, an' there's victors. An' you're a victim."
"But-but you can't mean-"
"I mean the system is breakin' down. There's no more wrong or right. It's only can you make it work or can't you. The new style is action an' reaction, an' you got to be tough."
"But that's the most nihilistic thing I ever heard!" Linda said warmly. "The world isn't completely a jungle in which-"
"But it is," he cut her off again. "The strong make pacts an' bring down the weak. Like you."
Linda drew a slow breath. "But you don't seem like that," she said. "Sometimes," she groped for words. "Suppose Carl walked in my door right now and wanted to-wanted to hurt me again? What would you do?"
"I'd help him," Charlie said steadily.
And looking at the light blue eyes, Linda knew he would.
"I wasn't put here to help with your salvation," Charlie went on. "You got to work out your own. I'm not mad at you. Hell, I even like you. You're a really sweet fuck. You're even kind of cute in your way. But I made a pact with the others. An' that way we're sure of all gettin' what we want." He rose to his feet. "I'll run the tub. Shuck your duds an' we'll pop you in to soak while I'm fixin' us a bite to eat."
Linda quickly placed a hand on his arm. "Charlie," she said carefully, and paused. "I'm tired. I hurt. I'm-I'm just naturally unraveled. Could you-would you give me a break tonight and-and a chance to get my second wind?" She somehow felt sure that he would, now that he wasn't running with the wolf pack.
And she was right. "Sure," he said easily. "S'pose I come by tomorrow night?"
"That will be fine," she lied. It wouldn't be fine, but what could she say or do?
She went with him to the door, and they said goodnight.
She stood in the hallway, musing, when Charlie left.
She thought back over the events of the late afternoon and early evening, and a quick shudder rippled through her. The base of her spine felt chilly. It had been a dreadful experience. How was she ever going to be able to extricate herself from this incredible situation? And yet at times ... at times....
Linda gave herself a little shake. Stop being so forgiving, she told herself briskly. She was on the verge of becoming maudlin. She started to leave the hallway to draw a tub of hot water when there was a knock at the apartment door. She turned to look at it apprehensively. Had Charlie changed his mind? Or perhaps he'd left something behind?
She took off the chain latch and opened the door. "Yes, Char-" she started to say, and the words died in her throat.
It wasn't Charlie.
It was the janitor, Walter Cummings, who stood there beaming at her. "Hi, there, Miss Linda," he said cheerfully with what seemed to her more assurance than his usual shyness warranted. "I thought you might like-"
"I've had a bad day, Walter," she said rapidly. "If you want to talk, why don't you come by tomorrow afternoon? I'll be feeling much better then."
He looked troubled. "Well, if it was jus' me, Miss Linda, there'd be no problem, but there's my friend-"
Beyond his bulk Linda could see a separate shadow on the corridor wall. Her hand crept to her throat. "Your-friend?" she said unsteadily.
"Yeah. My ol' Army buddy, just passin' through town. An' he's on'y gonna be here tonight." He blinked at her earnestly. "An' I been tellin' him how nice you was to me."
Linda's larynx felt petrified. The janitor pushed past her and entered the apartment. Immediately the second man, a stocky, ill-kempt type with the sour smell of cheap wine about him, entered also and closed the door. Linda felt a deep-welling scream rising from the depths of her esophagus, but she couldn't get it past the limp in her throat.
"It'll on'y take a few minutes, Miss Linda," the janitor assured her. He began to remove his clothing. "My friend here didn' believe me when I told him how nice you was to me, so I told him I'd show him."
"Walter!" Linda choked out the name. The janitor paused with his pants half down. "We can't-I can't-you mustn't expect-just because of what happened with-with-"
"Oh, I never told a soul about them!" he said quickly. "But that had nothin' to do with us." He started to push the pants down, then stopped. "Did it?"
She didn't try to answer directly. "Can't you please come by tomorrow and we'll talk this over, Walter? Please?" Dear God, if she offended him, and he ever started talking about what he'd seen. And participated in....
He smiled at her helplessly. "If it was any other night," he said slowly. "You see how it is? Sure you do. My friend'll be gone tomorrow." He disposed of the work pants and stripped off his shorts.
Linda swallowed hard as she glimpsed the hammer between his legs. She hadn't felt as helpless with the boys. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave, Walter," she said more sharply than she intended.
He looked hurt. "But I can't leave," he said in a pleading tone. "I told my friend I'd show him, see?" He approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. She shivered at the strength in them. "Jus' slip out've your things, okay?" She recoiled in horror as he stopped and took hold of the hem of her dress and started to pull it up over her head.
"Walter!"
The hitherto silent second man stepped forward. "I'll help you with her, Walt," he said. His voice was alcohol-hoarsened.
"You don't need to help me," the janitor said patiently in the manner of someone explaining something to two stupid children. Linda felt herself included. "Miss Linda is my friend, see? She doesn't call me ugly. She's nice to me. We've got a secret, too. Friends have secrets, don't they?" A slow smile parted the thick lips. The big hands whisked the dress off over Linda's head. "Your clothes is all wet, Miss Linda," the hulking figure told her seriously. "You ought to take better care of yourself."
Linda stood numbly as the fumbling hands undressed her. Why couldn't she think what to do, she asked herself frantically? She could scream, rant, rave, have hysterics ... but would Walter Cummings then feel disowned by his friend and under no further obligation to hold his tongue in regard to their mutual "secret"?
Linda's head whirled. Her slip was gone, and her bra, and the big hands were fumbling at the waistband of her panties. "Pretty," Walter Cummings said slaveringly. "Soooooo pretty." He pulled the panties down her plump thighs.
Linda felt like a mechanical toy with its spring wound down. She felt herself half-carried, half-led into the bedroom while she tried to think what to do. But wasn't the damage done already while she'd been vacillating? That-that wind with his cheap, cynical grin-pray God he left town tomorrow!
Walter Cummings sat down on the bed and stood Linda between his knees. "Pretty," he whispered, kissing a jutting breast. "Pretty." His thick lips fumbled with a perky nipple.
Linda would have collapsed in front of him except that he suddenly leaned backward on the bed and drew her down on top of him. She wriggled furiously, conscious of her wide-flaring nude hind cheeks exposed to the gaze of the wino, but Walter held her firmly. Not with force, but just as if it was the most natural thing in the world that Linda should be lying on his bare belly with his thick rod jutting up into her thigh-juncture. "Put it in for me," he whispered to her. "Put in for me like you did the last time."
"Oh, God!" Linda moaned as the big hands lifted her by the buttocks and re-settled her on his enormous tool. By accident he hit the slot exactly, and he gave a satisfied grunt as Linda felt her pierced quim slowly begin to slip downward and engulf his turgid prong. "Walter!"
"I love it, too," he said complacently. He played with her hind cheeks, then lilted his head inquiringly. "You got grease all over your seat, Miss Linda."
The vaseline, she thought despairingly.
"Grease?" the wino said alertly. He moved closer to the bed as the janitor began to move up and down under Linda. Hot sparks flowered in her interior as his big prick dilated her interior and touched all her sensitive places. She quivered as she felt another hand on her nude bottom and a hard finger probed inquiringly at her sore anus. The wino brought his finger up within a few inches of his bleary eyes and studied it intently. There was a short laugh. "You know what that grease is, Walt?" the wino inquired. "Someone's been punkin' your girl friend in the ass."
"Well, maybe she likes it that way," the janitor said loyally. He jogged up and down, holding Linda's hips, and bursts of shooting stars filled her clutching cranny. She could hear her own rapid breathing. "You like it that way, Miss Linda?"
"N-no!" Linda gasped. Out of the comer of her eye she could see the wino stripping off his clothes. "No, no, no, no! What's he doing? Don't let him come near me! Don't-"
The wino picked up their blended legs and centered them in the bed which creaked as he climbed onto it. "You're doin' fine, Walt," he encouraged the janitor. "Don't mind me."
He pushed Linda firmly down onto the janitor's thick prong, and she gasped as her breasts were flattened against his hard chest. His pubic bone was grinding painfully into her lower stomach. Linda shrieked as she felt another pair of hands on her bare buttocks which were kneaded, hard fingers jabbing at the soft flesh. She felt her quivering ass cheeks being separated, the soft white moons being cruelly spread apart. She tried to clench her hind cheeks together, but the fingers, tenaciously strong, grasped them in an iron grip.
"Walter!" she screamed.
"I like it, too," the janitor whispered, still sliding her up and down on his greased pole.
A finger stabbed at the dark little mouth of Linda's sore rectum. She cried out again as the little reddish ring, crinkly brown, resisted the attempted entrance. The finger slipped in and twisted, hurting her terribly. She moaned, then gasped when a crushing weight was draped on her back, sandwiching her against the janitor beneath her, and another prick, already oozing moisture against her buttocks pressed against the rubbery opening of her asshole.
A hard shove from above, and the head was lodged. Linda whimpered, distracted nearly out of her mind by what was taking place in her boiling cunt under Walter's steady fucking of her. Another shove as the prick was driven into her most sensitive area. She howled huskily as it was forced inch by inch into her tortuously stretched rectal area. There was no one to listen now. Walter Cummings was on the verge of coming and was crashing into her cunt mightily, shoving her upward into the boring prick that was reaming her ass.
It hurt twice as much as before, but not for as long, she noted dimly after a moment. The crucifying penis in her back passage seemed to tear right through and meld with her vertebra. She could feel, through the thin wall of flesh separating vagina and rectum, the thick prick of Walter Cummings brushing against the smaller one of the sodomizer on her back. Tears spurted down her face at the pain and the degradation, but she seemed to have lost her voice..
The man on her back began a lumbering rhythm that roughly matched the one in her cunt. Linda lay numbly between the two pricks which were plowing far into her from both sides. The pain eased still more but her self-loathing increased. Her sphincter relaxed, and she felt quick little eddies of pleasure and was amazed that she was unable to tell if they came from cunt or asshole.
Instinctively she began to move herself, caught herself in horror, but at once resumed. She ... was ... getting ... so ... hot! The condition of her behind felt almost like after Carole's spanking of it when she'd come involuntarily. "Ohh!" she gasped. "I'm-oooh!-you're-ohhhhhhh!"
The depravity of her situation seemed to feed her suddenly masochistic sense of abandonment. Her body bobbed up and down, squirming madly. She tossed in a total sexual frenzy as Walter Cummings bellowed like a bull and came with tremendous thrusts of his jetting prick into her quivering cunt-sheath. Linda felt the quick, traitorous tickle in her own entrails as the man on her back grunted savagely and thrust and thrust and thrust into her sore but somehow eager rectum. The wino came with a burst, and she felt his flooding sperm oozing out her clenched anus and running down her thighs.
Linda yelped hoarsely as she felt her own violent come which wrenched her between the two sweat-sticky bodies. Half-senseless with the excess of her wildly stimulated emotions, she came to only when another rending pain wrenched her as the wino pulled his prick out of her asshole with a loud popping sound as her secret flesh clung tightly to the intruder.
Then the janitor lifted her up off himself, and she collapsed on the bed.
She heard them whispering together, the wino urging something, and the janitor saying no firmly.
She didn't even care what it was that was under discussion.
She felt totally drained, totally used, totally ashamed.
Half-unconscious again, she sensed Walter Cummings leaning down over her. "You seem tuckered," she heard his anxious voice, "so we'll be leavin' now, Miss Linda. Thanks for bein' so nice to us."
She didn't really believe it, but they left.
She heard the apartment door close.
Throbbing pain in her interior blended with a sweet sense of easement.
She sighed and rolled over on her back, winced, and rolled back onto her side. Her cunt was sore from the janitor's tremendous prodding of it, and certainly her rectum was sore. But she felt almost fulfilled.
She rolled off the bed and started painfully for the bathroom.
En route she thought of Charlie with his handsome face and light blue eyes, and she stopped short.
Charlie would be coming to her apartment tomorrow night. Unless she stopped him. She stared at the far wall, chewing on her lower lip. It was shameful beyond words to express, but the thought of his hard young body excited her even at this moment. She should keep him from coming. Definitely she should keep him from coming tomorrow night.
She sighed deeply and resumed her interrupted progress to the bathroom.
Of course if Charlie came to the door and pushed his way inside....