Chapter 9
"Aiiieee! Ah! Oh no, no!" Sandy screamed and struggled, but Hank's grip on her ass was unbreakable.
Holding the sawed-off broom handle with both hands, Carmen stabbed at the adolescent's tightly-fisted asshole with the rounded, greased end of the stick. "Goddamn you, hold still!"
"Use your fingers to pull her butthole open," Hank growled at her. "See-it slides in nice and easy."
"Oh God-ooowwwAAAHHH" cried Sandy, as the stick impaled her ass.
Biting her lip, Carmen drove the pole home. Inch after inch went in until six inches of the broomstick were shoved up the thrashing' girl's butt. Then Carmen wound a rope under the girl's knees, drew them up to her belly, and tied the rope around her waist.
"Well done," Hank said. "Now for the woman." Golden sunset light poured in over the tops of the walls. Tied to an upright, Roger spat and snarled as his father and Carmen walked toward his mother's bound form. "I'll kill you," he swore. "Whatever I do, I'll kill you for this!"
Janice raised a pale, tearstained face to her former husband. "Why?" she asked. "Why are you doing this? Paco has scarcely had time to get to my husband's house. He might pay this time-why are you doing this?"
Hank gave her a look of feigned surprise. "You don't actually think that bastard is going to get you and the kids back, do you?" he asked. "Naw. What he's buying is nice moving picture footage of your last moments on earth. It'll be worth it too-there are some millionaires who'd pay a year's income for flicks like the one you and your damn kids are about to star in."
"But ... why?"
He shoved his rage-reddened face up close to hers. "You sold me out," he gritted. "You and that little wimp and that pasty-faced slut with the skinny ass. You were glad to get rid of me-I bet you planned it that way all along! Tried to get me out of the way so I'd never come back to haunt you. But I did." He straightened up. "But I sure as shit did. Get her trussed up and ready, Carmen, while I go fetch the other stuff."
"Get me ready for what?" Janice asked. She felt strangely calm. "Ready to be killed in whatever way he has in mind?"
"Not yet," Carmen smiled. She quickly whipped a rope around Janice's long, firm legs and drew them up under her ample boobs, the way her daughter had been tied.
Lying on her side, hunched into a fetal position, Janice watched Carmen produce another length of broomstick. "I see that one isn't lubricated. Did you run out of Vaseline, or does Hank want to make it that much harder on me?"
"Oh, you don't understand," Carmen told her pleasantly. "This isn't going into your ass." She positioned the foot and a half long stick, then inserted it in Janice's cunt.
The brown-haired woman's pussy wasn't lubri-cated and so the dry stick felt uncomfortable going in. But it didn't really hurt. It was too thin.
Carmen took hold of Janice's ankles and drew them together with the end of the broomstick between them. She taped ankles and stick together with some strong tape, wrapping it around and around for strength.
Sandy was sobbing off to one side. Janice stirred slightly, closing her ears to the plaintive sounds her daughter was making. The motion caused the stick to swish around in her pussy. The sensation was not altogether unpleasant. Janice felt the first tinglings of her curt juices flowing.
"Now what?" Janice asked.
"My God," she heard her son say, as if in response to her query. She turned her head and looked around.
Hank had come back into view. He was wheeling a charcoal barbecue pit on a wheeled tripod. It had apparently been warming up for some time. The charcoal briquets glowed red in the dusk, and they were covered with a fine coating of grey ash.
"Wh-what are you going to do with that?" Janice asked.
"What do you think?" Hank grinned. He held something up for her to see, and he laughed out loud at the horrified expression on her face.
"That's right, darlin'. It's a branding iron. Had it made up special. Got my initials on it, too. Henry Aaron Scovill. Like it?" Unable to control her emotions, Janice turned her head away.
Hank Scovill stuck the cold iron into the coals. "Well, I won't use that till Paco gets back. He
won't wanna miss out on the fun." He picked up the camera, checked it, and aimed it. "Okay, Carmen. Time for you to get a little exercise."
Without Janice having seen it, Carmen had gotten the six-foot black and white whip. It whistled through the air now, curling with a snap around the tops of Janice's thighs.
Involuntarily, the woman's leg muscles jerked at the pain. The motion buried eight inches of the broomstick in her pussy.
"Aaaahhh," she moaned as pleasure mingled with the pain of her whipped thighs. She straightened her legs as far as she could. The stick slid smoothly out of her cunt, rasping pleasantly along her clit. When her legs were extended as much as they'd go, an inch or so of the pole was still trapped by the lips of her pussy.
The length of wood that had gone into Janice's cunt was dark, wet with the excited sauces of her cunt.
"You like it, huh?" Carmen asked. "See, it's not so bad. Try it again!" She swung the whip, biting her lip at the delicious feel of her nipples brushing the lining of the half-zipped letter jacket. The leather slashed out to bite the tender flesh of Janice's ass.
"Yi!" the woman exclaimed. She flinched violently. Again the stick was buried in her cunt, a little deeper this time.
Carmen didn't wait. She struck again. Janice rolled, crying out. The stick made a sucking noise as it came out of her cunt. Janice's 'pussy was brimming with oil now. The fragrant cunt sauce was spilling out, matting her upturned bush and pouring over her butt.
Janice was on her back. With her hands tied behind her, her knees tied under her boobs, and her feet sticking straight up with the broom handle running from between them to plunge into her pussy, she made a comical sight. The black-haired Chicana laughed.
Her laughter mingled with the cracking of the whip and Janice's cries of pain as she was flogged. And Janice's yelps were blended with groans that escaped as she involuntarily fucked herself with the broomstick. This was close to the ultimate degradation, she thought. Being forced to undergo pain and pleasure at the same time-another example of Hank's warped genius.
"Aiyah!" she cried. "Oh, god, that was deep! Ow! Oh, owwwwww! No-no more! Don't whip me again-aaaiiieee!"
Hank had his trousers down around his knees now. His huge cock stuck out from his crotch like the -bowspirt of a ship. He lay down on the concrete, still working the camera one-handed, while his free hand drew his daughter's nude bound body toward him. He rolled onto his side, pulled her cunt onto his great spar of cock, and rolled over again onto his back. The length of broomstick
in her ass jutted toward his face like the tail of a dog.
"Hot Jesus, you've got a tight pussy, daughter," he grunted, continuing to aim the camera at his wife. The spectacle of watching her forced to perform like a trained dog, fucking herself uncontrollably with the stick while Carmen beat her, was turning him on fantastically.
With his ex-wife's cries ringing tike music in his ears, Hank took hold of the stick. He wagged it. Sandy groaned.
Working the stick like some kind of lever, Hank Scovill drove his daughter to wild and delightful contortions. He bent her forward,' back, side to side, around and around. He stirred the broom handle in her anus.
Carmen had her victim fucking herself like a dog now, and Janice was panting like an animal as well. The dowel was harder than the hardest cock she'd ever had in her snatch. It poked into her cervix with brutal force every time she drove it into herself. But the friction it caused on her clit was indescribable. Janice was possessed by her lust totally now.
She was even deriving pleasure from the pain of the whip. That was how far she had been brought down by the awful degradation her former husband had put her and her children through. She was acting like an animal, or worse. She -was writhing and gasping, all but begging for the half-naked Chicana to give her yet more sweet pleasure-pain!
And the camera was recording it all, for her husband Phillip to see!
Maddened with bizarre and unnatural lust, Janice could hear her daughter's voice as Hank raped her butt with the greased pole and her cunt with his enormous, powerful cock. He was stirring her on to incredible erotic efforts with the stick rammed cruelly up her ass the way Carmen was driving Janice on with the relentless whip. Sandy's tight cunt sucked and slurped and slithered around the great bar of her father's cock, while tears of pain rolled down her cheeks from the reaming her ass was getting.
"Hang ... on. . . honey," Janice found the strength to say. "It-ahhhhh!-can't go on . . . foreverrrr-AAAHHH!" At a vicious whipstroke that curled around her bottom and flicked at her tits, Janice kicked the stick home in her cunt and came.
"Ahhhhh-Mommy? Are you all right? Arrragggh! My ass-oh, Daddy-my ass-my cunt -I'm COMMMMiiinnnggg!" Sandy's voice rose in a wail as her father probed deeper with the broom handle, shoved his mighty cock still farther into the recesses of her pussy, and.let the involuntary spasms of her orgasm milk a fiery blast of come from his thick prick. He swung the camera away from his wife who was flopping around the floor like a beached fish, fucking herself and coming
while Carmen lashed at her shoulders. Then he brought the camera to bear on his daughter's cunt. White, frothing, foaming jism was bubbling out around the girth of his well-buried cock. The camera got it all down, every drop, on the film that was to be Phillip Morrison's last record of his adopted family.
The door swung open and Paco came in. "Okay, boss," he called. "I got it delivered all right-hey! Wow, looks like I'm missing something!"
Hank laid the camera down and rolled over, pushing Sandy away from him. "We saved the best for you," he said, getting to his feet. He looked down at his daughter. She lay at his feet, nude and vulnerable. Cunt juice and his sperm leaked down onto her tortured asshole.
"Carmen! That's enough. Go get lover boy and bring him over. I want him to watch me burn my initials in his baby sister's ass at close range."
"I'll kill you!" howled Roger, throwing himself against his bonds in a white fury.
Carmen recoiled from him. "Hey, he could be dangerous, you know?" she said dubiously.
Hank nodded his red head. He disappeared for a moment and came back waving the big black revolver. "Here we go," he said. "He tries anything, I'll shoot off a foot or something, calm him down a little." With the point of his toe, he turned Sandy over on her belly. She started to kick, but he put his foot in the small of her back and pinned her there with her jugs squashed against the cold concrete.
"Fuck! I can't untie these damn ropes," Carmen said. The bloodlust was rising in her, making her fingers fumble. She went and got the butcher knife and started sawing at the cord that held Roger to the post.
"No! No! No! Please nooooo!" moaned, Sandy. Janice was lying on her side, watching with helpless horror in her clear green eyes.
Paco was standing by the glowing brazier. He took the branding iron gingerly by the handle and lifted it out. The brand at the end glowed a hideous cherry red. He inspected it minutely.
Somebody coughed. Or that was what Janice suspected at first. Then she saw what appeared to be a third eye in the center of Paco's forehead. Then he slumped. His body fell across the grill, upsetting it, and hot coals went skittering everywhere across the floor.
Carmen looked up and screamed. "Paco!"
The couch came again, and Hank Scovill staggered back, blood gushing from a hole in his shoulder.
From the depths of the warehouse a figure appeared. A stocky, sturdy figure dressed in a sports shirt and slacks, and carrying a stubby black automatic with a cigar-shaped silencer screwed to the muzzle.
"Moon!" Sandy screamed.
In a blur of motion Hank Scovill scooped the girl up despite the bullet hole in his shoulder. Holding her up between the Korean and himself as a shield, he pressed the revolver against the side of the naked girl's head.
"Take another step," he said, "and I'll blow her fucking brains out. Now put the gun down." Moon stood unmoving, the gun aimed at the big man. Carmen turned and fled like a gazelle into the shadows. The knife clattered to the floor.
Roger took a step forward. He realized that he was free of the stanchion, though his hands were still tied . . .
"Drop it!" snarled Scovill. He jabbed Sandy cruelly with the pistol. The flames were springing up everywhere now, set off by the widely-scattered coals from the charcoal grill.
Moon stood impassively.
Hank glared at him, his face a mask of hate. The Korean took a step forward.
Scovill stepped back. "I'm warning you," he said.
Five feet behind him, Roger turned and cocked his arm. The knife struck his father in the back, just above the waistline of his trousers.
Hank Scovill stiffened. Sandy wriggled free and fell to the ground. Moon shot him three times, then, and he fell dead.
"We're free," screamed Janice. "Free!" "Not yet," Moon said.
He acted quickly. Retrieving the knife from the corpse of Hank Scovill, he sliced the bonds of the pale-faced boy who stood staring dumbly down at the body. Roger came out of his spell then, and while Moon picked up Janice, Roger scooped up his baby sister and ran from the warehouse. The inside of the building erupted into an inferno behind him.
Gasping, they collapsed on the gravel. "How did you find us?" Janice asked. "Followed the boy. He was not so cautious returning."
"You did it," Roger exclaimed. "You got them all. You rescued us. We're free, and they're all dead!"
"Not Carmen!" Janice exclaimed suddenly. "She must have slipped out the back."
"No," the Korean said. "Back door is locked. No way out but through front." He nodded at the door. On the other side was nothing but a mass of bright flames.
Roger was pulling the broomstick out of his sister's ass.
Sandy stood up, rubbing herself all over with newly freed hands. "Then she's still in there," she said weakly.
Moon nodded.
"Roger."
The boy stirred in his sleep. He was dreaming. It had been a terrible dream. He had been kidnapped, he and Sandy and their mother Janice . . .
"Roger," the voice came again.
Roger woke fully. Panic seized him as he remembered it had not been a dream, but reality. Was he still in the warehouse, waiting for his father's insane vengeance to run its dreadful course?
"Roger," another voice said. Like the first voice, it was soft and low and female, but it was much younger.
"Huh-what? Sandy?"
"Shh. It's me. And-and Mom too." "What are you doing here?"
"You were very brave, back at the warehouse," his mother said. "You saved us all."
"But Moon-"
"He did well, but he's paid for that. And if it had not been for you, we wouldn't have gotten away."
"We've come to pay you back," Sandy said. Roger felt Sandy climb on the bed beside him. He tried to sit, but she pushed him back. There was a rustle of fabric as she hiked up her filmy nightgown. Then a wet, delicious aroma wafted to his nostrils as she straddled his face. It was the odor of her cunt, eager and dripping.
"That's right," his mother said. She clambered onto the bed and pulled down his pajama pants.
He felt his mother's nightie brush the tops of his thighs as she swung astride his crotch. Cool, skilled fingers fondled his prick.
"We want to show our appreciation for what you did at the warehouse."
"Of course, what happened back there wasn't all bad," Sandy added. "In fact, we sort of acquired a taste for certain things-didn't we, Mommy?"
Janice Morrison's reply was to lean down and wrap cool lips around the flared head of her son's cock.
"Oh well," Sandy sighed. "Anyway, as they say, brother-relax and enjoy it!"
Roger opened his mouth to speak, but his words were muffled by the curly-bearded cunt that descended and covered his lips with a wet, juicy, meaty kiss.
She's right, Roger thought, then slipped his tongue into his sister's pussy.