Chapter 5
Within two weeks, Melinda had made enough money servicing Mike and his hardhat buddies to pay off Mr. Pyne. She would have continued this lucrative enterprise were it not for the intervention of the local authorities.
She had just finished giving one of the guys his fourth blowjob of the week in the front seat of his car parked in an empty lot when her career as a moonlighting hooker came to an abrupt end. She pocketed her pay, said her goodnights and got out of the car, heading north on Eleventh Avenue to catch the crosstown bus at Fifty-Seventh Street.
Suddenly, a police car pulled up to the curb, a cop leaped out from the passenger side and grabbed her by the arm.
"Okay, you're under arrest," he routinely informed her.
Melinda's heart stopped. She stared at him with wide eyes and a dazed expression. "What?"
"You have the right to remain silent...."
"Wait a minute!" she said in a panic-stricken voice. "What's going on? What's the charge?"
"Prostitution," declared the cop, a tall, husky man with steely blue eyes, a bushy brown moustache and the name Barnett on his badge.
"There must be some sort of mistake," Melinda laughed nervously.
"No mistake, Miss. Now get in the car and I'll read you your rights on the way to the station," ordered Barnett, pulling her toward the waiting vehicle.
"But I haven't done anything!" Melinda desperately insisted, refusing to comply with his strict request.
"Should I add resisting arrest to the charges against you?" the policeman threatened.
Frightened and confused, Melinda complied with the officer's demand and got into the backseat of the car. They sped off and followed the flow of traffic north.
"Really, you're making a terrible mistake," Melinda whimpered, fighting back tears.
"Why don't you just cut the bullshit, sweetheart," the driver advised. "We've been watching you for days."
Barnett held up a pair of binoculars to verify his partner's claim. "And boy, you really did put on a show, fucking and sucking all those guys. You've been a busy beaver lately."
"Please," Melinda wept, "give me a break."
Barnett and his partner laughed. "Sure, babe, we'll give you a break," said Barnett. "We'll pour you a cup of coffee while we book you."
"But ... I haven't hurt anybody," Melinda protested.
"On the contrary," the driver contradicted. "You've been hurting business in the neighborhood. Every whore in a ten-block radius is pissed off with you. They don't fancy freelance hookers in this part of town. Neither do we, if you know what I mean."
"So we've got to see that you're put out of business," added Barnett.
"Look, I swear, if you let me go, I won't do it anymore," Melinda pleaded.
"Well, that's really considerate of you," said Barnett sarcastically. "But I'm afraid we can't let you off the hook that easily."
"What is it that you want?" asked Melinda, reaching into her handbag. "Money? I have fifty dollars...."
"Bribing an officer?" shuddered Barnett.
"Well, tell me what you want!"
Barnett nudged his partner and smiled. "What do we want, Stan?"
Stan glanced at Melinda in the rearview mirror. "We don't want your money, honey."
Melinda took a deep breath and sighed. "Oh, I see. Well, I don't want to go to jail."
"Now, that's a good girl," grinned Barnett. "It's always best to cooperate with the law."
Stan made a left turn and headed toward Twelfth Avenue. He stopped abruptly in front of an abandoned garage and shut the motor. He and Barnett hopped out of the car, opened the door for Melinda and hustled her out.
"Where are we? What is this?" she asked.
"Let's go, move it," ordered Stan, shoving her toward a metal door beside the closed vehicle entrance.
Barnett fished a key from his chain and unlocked the door. Then all three of them disappeared quickly into the vacant building, the door slamming shut behind them.
It was dark and damp inside, but Melinda could see that the place was empty, just one huge area with concrete pillars, faded yellow parking lines and a tunnel to a lower level. The two policemen escorted her across the garage and down the tunnel's twisting slope. It was even darker on the level below, so Barnett flicked his cigarette lighter and guided them to a room beyond a row of parking spaces.
There he was able to switch on a dim light bulb that hung from the ceiling. It was a small, narrow room with brick walls and a stone floor, a storage area that resembled a dead end alley. The only thing there was a worn mattress tucked in a corner.
"Okay," said Barnett to Melinda. "Lean your hands against the wall."
"Why?" she questioned suspiciously.
Barnett suddenly drew his nightstick and slammed it against the brick wall. The sound was so loud, so menacing that it petrified Melinda. "Do what I say, bitch, or I'll bust your fucking head open!" he roared.
Terrified by his fury and hostility, Melinda obeyed, placing the palms of her hands against the cold wall and leaning with her legs out. She dared not imagine what they had planned to do to her.
"Spread those legs out!" Stan demanded, kicking her ankles to separate her feet.
"Is this necessary?" asked Melinda in a faltering voice.
Barnett slammed his nightstick against the wall again, barely missing her fingers. "Keep your fucking mouth shut, you slut!" he shouted. "I don't want to hear another word out of you!"
Melinda kept silent from then on, trembling with fear.
"Now...."said a subdued Barnett, standing behind Melinda between her legs. He tucked his nightstick in a small holster attached to his belt and discarded his cap. Then he frisked her, running his hands from her waist to her armpits, amusing his partner. His groping became more intimate as he pressed his groin against her buttocks and reached around to cup her breasts. "M-m-m...." he moaned, caressing her tits through her uniform, rubbing the bulge in his pants between the cheeks of her ass. "This suspect's carrying concealed weapons," he facetiously declared.
Stan gloated and watched with titillation as Melinda nervously squirmed. She lowered her head so they wouldn't see her humiliation as she endured Barnett's sexual intimidation.
He leaned forward and nibbled on her ear as his hands unbuttoned her blouse and his stiff dick nestled against the groove of her ass, taut beneath her tight skirt. He tongued her ear while squeezing her firm jugs until they nearly popped out of her brassiere. He felt her nipples harden under the soft lace and tauntingly murmured, "You're going to love it, baby. We're going to suck your tits and fuck your cunt and you're going to love it...."
Barnett kept one hand on her breasts and moved the other behind her. He raised her skirt and placed his hand on her ass, slipping it beneath her pantyhose and skimpy lace panties to clutch her sweet buns. Then he forced his hand under her and reached up to touch the warm, hairy lips of her cunt, cramming his fat, rough fingers into her dry pussy.
Melinda stiffened as he entered her, but his soothing touch on her sensitive clitoris soon relaxed her. Further stimulation led to the secretion of her feminine juices, lubricating her accessible vagina.
"Getting hot, aren't you?" Barnett whispered in her ear. "Hot and wet. Your cunt's hungry for cock, isn't it?"
"Let's fuck the bitch," Stan gleefully suggested, impatient for a piece of pussy.
"Not just yet," said Barnett, removing his hand from Melinda's drooling snatch. "First, let's play with her."
Barnett stepped away from Melinda, then quietly ordered, "Stand up straight with your face to the wall."
She obeyed without question.
"Put your hands behind your back," he told her.
Melinda hesitated, afraid he would handcuff her.
"Now!" he hollered.
Reluctantly, she crossed her wrists behind her. Sure enough, Barnett snapped on the cuffs and Melinda was helpless.
"Turn around, cunt," he cruelly commanded.
Slowly, she turned to face him, although she was too ashamed to look directly into his eyes. Yet she would recall his features for many years to come. He was a broad if not obese man with short, dark and greasy hair, a pug nose and a jutting jaw. He wore a perpetually smug expression on his face that made it clear he was as heartless as they come.
Suddenly, he tore open her blouse, the buttons flying in all directions.
"Let's get a good look at her bust," said Stan, gleefully licking his lips like a wild cat contemplating his next meal.
Barnett reached between Melinda's breasts and unclasped her bra. Her tits popped free, full, rounded mounds of flesh exposed for their delight. With her hands bound behind her back and her shoulders erect, Melinda's chest was thrust out like an offering.
"Beautiful," Barnett marveled, taking each of her tits in his hands, kneading them, squeezing them, pinching her pert nipples between his fingers.
Melinda closed her eyes and bit her lip as Barnett fondled her. She was as aroused by his domination as by his lustful intentions. She was reminded once again of Skip. How he'd appreciate this moment, Melinda helplessly chained, stripped, used like a piece of meat. It was awful, but it was awfully good.
Barnett placed his lips between her breasts and pressed her gorgeous nuggets against the sides of his face. Melinda opened her eyes and glanced at Stan whose hands were on his crotch, rubbing his bulging prick as he watched them. "Suck her tits!" he hissed.
Finding it an appealing suggestion, Barnett wrapped his arms around Melinda's slender waist while his mouth attached itself to one breast at a time, sucking hard, lashing her nipples with his lizard-like tongue. She closed her eyes again and swooned, desire burning between her legs.
The cop slowly fell to his knees, sliding his salivating tongue down to her belly. He unzipped her skirt and yanked it down to her ankles, then looped his fingers around the elastic waistbands of her panties and pantyhose, peeling them over her hips and down her thighs. Lifting one leg at a time, Barnett stripped Melinda of her undergarments and feasted his eyes on her exquisite nudity.
"Sweetest pussy I've seen in years," he remarked, stroking her legs as he gazed admiringly at her tempting fleece. "Wonder if it tastes as good as it looks."
"Hey, man," laughed Stan. "I wouldn't eat that cunt if I were you. You never know whose scurvy dick was in there last."
"You've got a point," Barnett concurred, rising to his feet. "Besides, I think it's time we put her beautiful mouth to work." He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and let his pants drop to his knees. "Kneel," he said to Melinda.
Quivering with renewed anxiety, she sank to the floor, a chill raising goose bumps on her arms and legs.
Barnett lowered his briefs and stood up straight, his big, bold cock snapping to attention. "Now crawl on over here and give me head," he commanded.
Melinda had no choice but to obey, scraping her bare knees on the dirty concrete to reach his throbbing organ. She dispensed with her usual oral foreplay and instead gobbled his immense manhood whole. As his prick plunged into her hot, gaping mouth, Barnett emitted a sigh of intense pleasure and reached down for his nightstick. Gripping both ends of the club, he lowered it behind Melinda's neck and used it to entrap her head in the proximity of his groin. Held firmly, Melinda could not escape as he jerked his hips and pumped his penis in and out of her throat. By now well-experienced in the art of fellatio, she consumed every inch of him, devouring his dick from the tip of its head to the base of its shaft, her lips closed in a tight circle, her cheeks pulsating with the powerful suction of her mouth.
"How is she?" asked Stan.
"Better than the whores on Eighth Avenue," groaned Barnett.
"Well, hurry up. I want a piece of her."
"Patience, pal. I'm just warming her up for you."
Melinda's jaw was starting to get sore, but she could not free herself from Barnett's grip. He selfishly coveted her, driving his blunt beefstick in "and out, again and again with unrelenting force. He knew there was a limit to how much Melinda could take, but he intended to enjoy himself until then.
Fearing no end to her predicament, Melinda faked gagging in the hope that Barnett would come. He leaned back against the wall and started grinding his hips, rolling his prick around her mouth, building the momentum of his ultimate climax. Gritting his teeth, he rocked back and forth, in and out, around and around, tightening his grip on the nightstick until a rush of ecstasy brought him to the brink and he discharged his creamy load.
This time Melinda really did gag and as soon as Barnett released her, she tumbled away, gasping for breath, semen dripping from her lips.
Barnett pulled up his pants and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He wiped Melinda's mouth dry and stashed his nightstick in its holster. "She's all yours," he told Stan, backing off.
"About time," his partner whined. "My balls turned blue waiting on this cunt." He slowly approached Melinda, who scrambled to her feet and cringed against the wall.
Stan removed his cap and handed it to Barnett, then turned toward Melinda and smiled. He was a leaner man than his partner, but even less appealing with his graying crewcut hair, beady brown eyes and pale, ragged complexion. Melinda was intimidated by his leering scrutiny as his eyes studied her nakedness.
Suddenly, he reached for her crotch and Melinda closed her thighs on his hand.
"Open your legs, slut!" he shouted in her face.
Afraid of his unpredictable rage, Melinda parted her thighs and allowed him to fondle her genitalia. Stan shoved several of his fingers into her snatch, prodding and probing as if conducting an intimate search. "Just as I thought," he lamented. "Her cunt's tight, too tight for my big, fat cock."
He removed his fingers and reached for his nightstick. "I'll have to dig a bigger hole...."
Panicking, Melinda bolted for the door. She bounced off both men, sending them sprawling to the floor, and dashed out of the room. She ran virtually naked through the cold, dark garage and toward the tunnel leading to the next level, but as she mounted the steep slope, her legs buckled and she fell. It was difficult to get up with her wrists bound behind her, although Melinda persevered, regained her footing and continued her ascent.
But before she could escape, Barnett and Stan caught up with her. She put up a fight, flailing her legs, biting the arms that grabbed her, but was ultimately subdued. In the fracas, one of the men viciously ripped off her blouse and tangled her bra around her handcuffed wrists. When Melinda continued to struggle, they picked her up and carried her back down to the storage room.
She was hurled onto the mattress and before she could get up again, both men pounced on her.
"Hold her down!" barked Stan.
Barnett gripped Melinda's shoulders and pinned them to the mattress. Meanwhile, Stan wedged himself between her kicking legs and strained them with his strong arms. "No use fighting," he laughed, taunting Melinda. "You can't get away.
Melinda let out an ear-splitting scream. "Help! Help! Help!"
Stan and Barnett chuckled. "Scream all you want, honey," said Stan. "Nobody can hear you.' And to demonstrate he hollered, too. "Help! Help!"
"Please!" begged Melinda. "Let me go."
"But I haven't fucked you yet," Stan replied. Melinda began to cry. "Don't do this to me, please!"
"No use crying. I don't intend to let you go until I bang the shit out of you. Might as well relax and enjoy it."
"No! Please! No! Don't!" Melinda sobbed, but to no avail. Stan clutched his nightstick in one hand and a fistful of Melinda's pubic hair in the other. He forced the handle of the club an inch into her gash and twisted it around. Melinda cried out in pain as he literally screwed the stick deeper and deeper into her vagina. The smooth wood squeezed its way through her narrow womb and its handle's ridges rubbed hard against her taut clitoris.
"It'll hurt at first," Stan casually admitted, "but after awhile, you'll love it."
"No! No!" wept Melinda, thrashing her head from side to side. 'Stop it! Stop it!"
But the more she protested, the more she incited his vile cruelty. Stan pushed the nightstick several inches deeper until Melinda shrieked with agony. Then he paused and slowly withdrew the club. As it slid back, Melinda inhaled through clenched teeth and groaned. It was not a groan of pain, but of a moment's pleasure. Stan drove his stick forward again, but not as deeply. Melinda's struggling all but ceased as she surrendered to this strange violation. Her tense vaginal muscles relaxed as the stick entered and reentered her, adapting to its length and width. In no time, Stan was moving the billy club in and out of her like a musician drawing a bow across the strings of a violin.
"You like it, don't you?" Barnett whispered in her ear, noting the delirious expression on Melinda's face.
"Y-yes...." she ashamedly admitted, swaying her hips from side to side as she absorbed the stick.
Barnett relaxed his grip on her shoulders and moved his hands to her breasts. Melinda moaned as he massaged her tits and bent low to kiss her on the lips. She accepted his open mouth and sucked on his tongue while Stan stroked her thighs and continued to prod her pussy.
"Oh-h-h!" Melinda shuddered, tearing her lips away from Barnett's, writhing and lifting her hips with each potent thrust.
When Stan withdrew the nightstick completely, Melinda begged for more. "Don't stop! Not yet!"
"I've got something better for you," he bragged, unbuckling his belt. "I'm going to give you a fucking you'll never forget.
Kneeling between Melinda's legs, Stan dropped his pants and proved that all his bragging was far from it. He was hung like a horse with a dick that exceeded Melinda's wildest expectations. He noticed the astonishment on her face and smiled proudly. "Before I finish with you," he promised, "you're going to beg me to ball you."
He shoved his hands under her, clutched the cheeks of her ass and lifted her pussy off the floor. Melinda's cunt was simmering in its own hot juices, a red, raw slit that protruded from its frizzy bush of pubic hair. It seemed to beckon him with its animal scent.
He traced the lips of her cunt with the tip of his penis, teasing and frustrating her. He pressed an inch within and grazed her clitoris to which Melinda flinched and stifled a whimper. Encouraged by her response, Stan nudged her clit again, grinding his foreskin against her tender spot, drawing a succession of moans, groans and shivering sighs from his helpless prisoner of lust.
Then he deliberately withdrew, denying Melinda the pleasure of his titillating prick.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked with an edge o desperation in her quivering voice. "You know you want it."
"Maybe not as much as you," smiled Stan "Isn't that right?" Melinda did not reply.
"Isn't that right?" Stan repeated, brushing his hand against her pussy.
Melinda stiffened at his touch, desire seething from every pore of her body. "Yes!" she conceded.
Holding his cock in his hand, Stan tickled her twat. "Tell me what you want," he playfully demanded, "and tell me where you want it."
Melinda bit her lip and squirmed with unbearable yearning. "I want you to fuck me," she finally declared. "I want you to stick your dick in my cunt and fuck me!"
Stan winked at a smiling Barnett. "Happy to oblige," he whimsically replied.
Firmly clutching Melinda's thighs, he guided his piece to the brink of her sodden snatch. With a sneering grin on his face, Stan plunged into her, impaling her to the hilt. Melinda's cry of ecstasy echoed through the cavernous walls of the subterranean garage.
Stan delivered what he had promised. He worked his cock in and out of Melinda with the speed and force of a jackhammer. His hips jerked incessantly, bucking and grinding, wedging his taut, throbbing meat deep into her torrid orifice, sliding it out, sliding it in, again and again and again. He relished the dazed and enraptured expression on Melinda's face as his pelvis twisted and his manhood churned within her ravaged womb.
While his partner heartily humped, Barnett availed himself of Melinda's tender tits, flicking her budding nipples with the tip of his tongue, stuffing his mouth with her succulent mounds. She began whining like an alley cat in heat, so Barnett removed the handcuffs, allowing her to wind her arms around his neck and tangle her fingers in his hair, holding his head against her heaving bosom.
Digging the heels of her feet into the mattress, Melinda lifted her hips to meet Stan's brutal and relentless thrusts. Inflamed with lust, she contracted her vaginal muscles to tug on his slithering prick, thereby savoring every inch of its exquisitely unendurable pleasure. That slowed him down for as her womb tightened like a fist around his penis, his own passion intensified.
"Shit!" hissed Stan through clenched teeth. "Best piece of pussy I've had in months. Too good to be true."
Abruptly, he yanked his tool free and forced Melinda to roll over on her belly. Seizing her by the waist, he entered her cunt from behind to fuck her doggie-style, shoving his ramrod as far up her moist slit as it would reach, slowly withdrawing, then surging forward again, withdrawing, in again, out again, building momentum.
"Oh, yeah, that's it! That's it!" exclaimed Melinda in a breathless, gasping cry. "Give it to me! Come on! I want it all! More! More!"
Stan pounded her pussy with all the fury he possessed, driving Melinda so wild that Barnett had to restrain her. He grasped her wrists and stretched her arms as if strapping her to a rack. It only succeeded in exciting her beyond control, stripping her of her last remaining inhibitions.
Stan's body covered hers, pinning her to the mattress, his hot breath murmuring in her ear, "My sweet pussy ... my sweet slut ... feels so good ... feels so fine...." He licked her ear and Melinda shuddered, beads of sweat dotting her brow, her rich, pungent feminine odor permeating the room, enticing and inciting her recklessly horny playmates.
Melinda never wanted it to end, but Stan's grinding thrusts became too overpowering for her delicate sensibilities and she felt herself hurtling toward a monumental climax. "Harder! Harder!" she deliriously implored. "I want it so bad! Ohh! Ohhh!"
Stan's teeth bit into the scruff of her neck and his hands raked the flesh beneath her arms, along her ribs, waist and thighs, reaching under to grope her scorching snatch, clawing at her clitoris as he dug his spade deeper and deeper into her hot, horny hole.
"Oh-h-h, no! No!" Melinda groaned. "I'm going to come! I can't help it! I'm going to come!"
"You'll come all right, baby!" Stan emphatically agreed, stabbing her cunt. "You'll come and come and come and come!"
Melinda pressed her face into the filthy mattress to stifle a scream as the first of her multiple orgasms swept over her like a tidal wave. Her body stiffened as if touched by a live wire and a sensation of unimaginable pleasure erupted between her legs.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Stan bore down and slam-banged her with all the raw fury and passion he possessed, as if flooring an accelerator and racing to the finish line. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he chanted, soaring to heights of ecstasy he had never reached before. At its peak, he held his breath, slid hard and deep into Melinda's snatch and exploded his cannon. Grunting like a pig, he creamed her cunt, then collasped on her back.
Barnett released Melinda's arms and stood up. He scooped up his cap and poked his partner in the ribs with the tip of his shoe. "Come on, stud. We've got to split."
Stan raised himself on weak, wobbly arms and shook his head. "Whew! That was a great piece of ass!" Then he dislodged his petering pecker from Melinda's muff and struggled to pull up his pants.
"See you around, babe," said Barnett on the way out.
"For your sake, I hope we don't," warned Stan.
Melinda was too exhausted to move, physically and emotionally numbed by the experience. Her brief moment of pleasure now seemed so vulgar and humiliating. Bitterness set in. All men were alike, she concluded, rolling over onto her back, the stark lightbulb burning into her eyes. All men wanted was to use and abuse her. Even when she played by their rules and gave them what they wanted, they treated her like a thing instead of a person, two tits, an ass and a cunt. There was no such thing as love or tenderness. It was just an illusion. Well, fuck it, she decided. Survival was all that mattered and she was determined to survive.
Melinda dressed herself in whatever remained of her tattered garments, trudged out of the room and found her way through the dark to the street above. Hardly anyone noticed the dissheveled state she was in as she wandered homeward. And if they did notice, no one cared.