Chapter 5
"Hey you motherstuffers, look at that!" said Murph, leaning comfortably on the handlebars of his freshly stolen Moto-Guzzi 750 and pointing at Dexter Fenlon-Smith's limousine as it rumbled expensively towards the Fenlon-Smith mansion.
"What ya want a car like that fer?" grumbled Butch, one of his two loyal sidekicks, assuming, naturally, that their'leader had larceny in mind. Butch was mounted on a Harley-Davidson which he had liberated a few weeks before from a reputable San Francisco Harley-Davidson dealer. Slinky, the third member of the team, was currently riding his spare bike, a low-status Honda 500, which would only do one hundred and twenty miles an hour, but he was planning to steal something more prestigious as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
"I don't want the fucking car, I want what's inside of it!" Murph explained, turning the key on the headlight which activated the bike's battery, and stepping expertly on the kick-start.
The Moto-Guzzi roared abruptly into life, vibrating as if even its pistons and cables were eager for the chase. Butch and Slinky both followed suit, and the three thugs tore down the road, quickly catching the limousine. After taking another quick look at Mandy to confirm that she was a prize worth having, the three bikers dropped back to avoid alarming the driver of the Fenlon-Smith car, content to follow it to wherever it happened to be going.
"Holy shit!" breathed Slinky in awe as the three of them pulled to a halt and relaxed on their leather covered saddles, viewing the delights of Fen Ion-Smith's elegant country mansion. Leaving their vehicles in the shadows of the woods which surrounded the house, the three bikers made their way silently across the lawn, drawn by the bright lights around the swimming pool like moths to a candle.
"Man, those cats is rich!" grumbled Butch, an anger rising within him as he wondered precisely what the owner of this fabulous estate had done to earn all this voluptuous luxury, when he and his companions were destined to spend their lives riding stolen bikes down dusty roads in search of dubious delights. It all seemed wrong somehow, unjust and unfair.
"That's right, shit head; they're plenty rich and we're plenty poor!" agreed Slinky. "I don' know who they are, but I think we ought to waltz over there and make their acquaintance. Particularly that slant-eyed chick! Man! I really wanna get t'know her!"
"Fucking foreigner!" shot Butch nationalistically. "Riding around in a big black limousine when we honest loyal Americans ain't got a dime. Fucking all them rich bastards, when we ain't had a piece of ass since . . . since . . . when was it Slinky?"
"Three o'clock this afternoon," commented the man with the low-status Honda dispassionately. "But, basically, I agree with you. Let's go get her!"
"Wait a minute," warned Murph cautiously, motioning the others to follow him. "They're coming out to the swimming pool. Lets jes' see what develops here."
The three bikers converged on the swimming pool, maintaining a low profile so as not to be spotted until the proper moment arrived to reveal their presence.
"Welcome! Welcome!" Dexter Fenlon-Smith was announcing grandly to the two other couples he had invited back for this intimate soiree, while busily mixing drinks at a sleekly elegant bar set up by the side of the pool's shimmering waters. "Here we have drinks for the thirsty, peanuts and pecans for the hungry and hand-rolled cigarettes with a certain Mexican tobacco of dubious legality for those wishing to alter their consciousness!"
"What the fuck's he talkin' about?" muttered Butch irritably as the three bikers watched Mandy and the other guests cluster around the table.
"Come on, what're we waitin' for?" urged Slinky impatiently. "I wanna see what that slant-eyed bitch looks like without her sheet."
"Pipe down, you guys. Let's check this scene out before we mess it all up."
Obediently, the group fell silent, their eyes trained lustfully on Mandy's partially revealed body as the young woman chatted happily with Dexter's friends, sure that everything was somehow going to work out for the best. Mandy was wise enough by now in the ways of the world to realize that Dexter Fenlon-Smith had brought her back here tonight for the express purpose of getting her into bed after he had filled her up with enough liquor to render her suitably pliable. But she also knew that it was not good strategy to let him get away with it. The older girls at the orphanage had been very specific on this point. When the handsome young millionaire swept into your life, you had to play it smart, tantalizing him with your beauty but never going all the way until he popped the question. Naturally, Mandy had no way of knowing that Dexter had already met six hundred and forty-seven other young hopefuls with the same idea of whom he had solemnly promised to marry three hundred and eighty-two just before getting their panties off.
And she's not wearing any panties, he meditated lasciviously, which is going to make it that much easier. Well, I'd better get rolling! Mater and Pater will be getting home from the Bahamas tomorrow early and I don't want the old man to catch me, rolling in the hay again. I don't know what ever gave him the idea I had to share every piece of ass I got with him!
Suddenly a lewd but clever idea popped into Dexter's mind. He allowed a horrified expression to cross his face and then held up his arms for silence. His friends all listened attentively, as did Murph, Butch and Slinky who were hiding in the bushes.
"We have been horribly, unforgivably rude!" he announced theatrically, watching the faces of his friends grow serious as they wondered what they could possibly have done to give offense to their lovely foreign guest. Dexter explained:
"In Bangladesh the members of the Narthusi Sect believe that all clothing is the work of - who did you say it was, Mandi?"
"Uh . . . Murtrap," responded the girl nervously, not quite sure where Dexter was leading them.
"Right, Murtrap, or the Devil for those of you who are weak in Oriental Religion. In fact Mandi, who is the daughter of the Mahatma of Upper Bengal - you've all heard of the Mahatma of Upper Bengal?"
"Well, of course, Dexter!" replied one of the girls acidly as she lit up one of Fenlon-Smith's custom-made marijuana cigarettes. "You don't have to insult our intelligence! Everybody's heard of the Mahatma of Upper Bengal!"
"He was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize two years ago," added another friend, confusing Mandy completely, since she had invented the Mahatma out of thin air only a few hours ago.
"Good, well in Mandi's village, people who are friends do not wear clothing in one another's presence - isn't that right, Mandi? - and therefore we are all doing the work of Murtrap by standing around in these disgusting garments. Let us cleanse ourselves in the pure chlorinated waters of my swimming pool!"
"But Dexter!" protested one of the girls in dismay as Fenlon-Smith began stripping off his clothing rapidly.
"Undress!" he ordered her sternly. "Are you trying to create an international incident? Suppose it gets back to the U. N. Security Council that we entertained the daughter of the Mahatma of Upper Bengal with our clothes on!"
"Shit, they're all gettin' naked!" marveled Butch in amazement, as he watched the six young people climb self-consciously out of their clothes. For Mandy is was easier, since she had been wearing less than the others to start with, but she slipped out of her satin sheet reluctantly. It was not that she minded being naked particularly, since she had spent a lot of time undressed over the past week and was rapidly getting used to it. But every time she was forced to remove her garments, someone inevitably jumped out of the nearest bush and raped her, and this might grow tiring with time. But she could not risk offending these kind people, who were doing so much to avoid offending her, and as a matter of fact, she herself had made up that silly story about going naked . ..
Then, as she half-expected, someone jumped out of the nearest bush, three men in fact, and a collective shudder of fear ran through Mandy and her five socialite friends as they watched Murph, Butch and Slinky walk menacingly towards them out of the darkness. Suddenly aware that they were in danger, Dexter felt somewhat ridiculous without his pants and hastily reached for the pile of clothing he had so recently rejected.
"Stay where you are, brother, or I'll cut yer balls off," Murph warned him, the moonlight reflecting evilly off the blade he held in his hand. Dexter retracted his hand abruptly as if he had been burned.
"What . . . what do you want?" he stammered, suddenly losing some of his Yale School of Business Administration self-confidence as he stood nakedly facing three thugs with knives.
"Listen, shithead, we want the chink broad," snapped Murphy, deciding it was time to make his move. Murph always called people "shithead" if he did not know their names, but had he known that the man he was addressing was called Dexter Fenlon-Smith, he would have called him "shithead" anyway since he had a constitutional hatred for people with hyphens in their names.
"I really must protest," whimpered Dexter, not very courageously. "What do you want her for?"
"We're gonna fuck'er," Slinky informed him. "Call the cops and we cut her throat afterwards."
"Oh," said Dexter Fenlon-Smith quietly, as the three motorcyclists began to drag Mandy into the house. The Yale man was not naturally terribly brave but having two signers of the Declaration of Independence in one's family tree imposed an obligation of sorts upon a person. This young foreign woman was his guest. He had to do something!
Dexter moved faster than anyone really expected him to, knowing that the switchblade in Murphy's hand could carve some unpleasant designs on his skin. Having practiced his karate regularly at the San Francisco Yale Alumni Athletic Association, the young socialite launched his muscular body into the air, one fast foot lashing out and catching Murph on the side of the head. The biker went down with a groan, caught completely off-guard, and the vicious-looking knife he had been holding spun across the tiled terrace and into the deep end of the swimming pool.
This trio had been in a lot of fights in their time, and they reacted quickly. To prevent her from running away, Butch shoved Mandy roughly into the swimming pool but he spun around just in time to catch a karate chop on the side of his neck which knocked him abruptly to the floor. Slinky, the smallest of the three, realized that they were in the presence of a man who knew something about fighting and took his time about moving in for the kill. Dexter was over-confident after knocking two men down so quickly, and he got careless as he went in for the third. Slinky had only finished sixth grade before being expelled, for petty larceny, but the man was an expert street fighter. He side-stepped adroitly as Dexter thrust a murderous open hand towards his throat and kicked the handsome young Yale graduate smartly in the groin. Fenlon-Smith's stomach muscles were tough and he did not double over, but the blow slowed him down, and he back-peddled, stalling for time as Slinky pursued him.
Then Butch rolled over quickly, having recovered in record time, and caught Dexter by the leg. Slinky attacked as Murph climbed unsteadily to his feet, and the three tough bikers closed in on him together. This time there were no mistakes.
"No . . .no, please, don't hurt him!" Mandy screamed as she pulled her nakedly glistening body out of the pool, but the three bikers ignored her for the moment and concentrated on punishing Dexter for having had the nerve to attack them. Murph used his favorite weapon, his motorcycle boots crashing viciously into Dexter's ribs. Butch used his fists, slamming his knuckles murderously into the young man's handsome face.
"Hey, wait a' minute," chuckled Slinky, producing a switchblade from his back pocket and dropping down on his knees next to Dexter while the two other thugs pinned him to the tile pavement. "I think we ought to give 'im somethin' to remember us by."
"Don't waste 'im," warned Murph quickly, seeing the evil blade in his cohort's hand. "A homicide rap we don' need."
"I ain't gonna kill 'em, man. I jes' wanna do a little carving!"
Mandy froze by the side of the pool, her heart beating wildly as she watched Slinky poised with the deadly knife over Dexter's muscular chest. One glance at the young millionaire's friends told her they were not going to come to the rescue. The two couples were huddled in obvious terror next to the table where drinks had been served. Dexter was dazed, but conscious, and his body was spread-eagled nakedly on the damp tile as he looked up at his torturers.
"My name is Slinky," the sadistic biker told him, grinning horribly through a pair of missing front teeth. "And just to make sure you don't forget it, Mr., I'm gonna put my initial on yer chest so you can look at it in the mirror."
"No ..." the young man grunted, but he knew better than to beg for mercy. As delicately as a surgeon, Slinky lowered the blade to a point between the millionaire's vestigal nipples. Razor-sharp, the steel sank in, a quarter-inch below the surface of the skin.
"Aaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!"
Mandy could hear the flesh tearing and severing as the biker maneuvered the blade in two sweeping arcs, and then pulled back to admire his handiwork. The letter was bloody and lopsided, but there was an "S" on Dexter's chest, a mark he would carry to the end of his days. There was a gasp of horror from the other four guests, but Mandy found herself advancing nakedly towards Dexter's blood-smeared body, her mind working like a computer as she tried desperately to find some way to save him.
"Hey, shithead," Murph mocked him cruelly. "What does that "S" stand for? You forget already?"
"It stands for 'Smith'," Dexter reported courageously, his voice hoarse with pain. "My last name."
"You uppity son-of-a-bitch. Better do a little more cuttin', Slinky. He ain't learned his manners yet."
"What do you say we cut his balls off?" suggested Butch lightly, glancing down at Dexter's genital equipment. A light layer of sweat broke out on the young man's forehead as he realized that Slinky was quite capable of an atrocity like this. His chest hurt as if there were flames dancing on it, but he forgot his pain as the shining tempered steel blade roamed horribly close to his groin.
"I thought you wanted me," came a clear calm woman's voice, and the three torturers looked up from their work in amazement. Who had spoken? The voluptuous and still quite naked oriental woman was standing over them, her hands on her hips, an impatient expression on her face. Mandy was acting, playing the role of a lifetime, and she hated herself for what she was doing, but she had to find some way of distracting the three criminals. Dexter's life was at stake, or at least his future sex-life, and if Slinky sliced off his testicles, the probability of their marriage became extremely remote.
"You're goddamn right we want you!" snapped Murph, looking up in amazement at this incredible young woman.
"Then why are you bothering with him?" she demanded, stamping her foot petulantly, a gesture which caused the heavy sensuous globes of her breasts to jiggle seductively. "I am not accustomed to being kept waiting!"
Dumbfounded, the trio got to their feet, never having met a woman before who objected to a delay in the process of being raped.
"She's the daughter of the Mahatma of Upper Bangal," observed one of Dexter's friends who was now hiding under the liquor table. "Better not touch her or we'll find ourselves at war with Bangladesh!"
Murph squared his shoulders defiantly, deciding that this was the most mismanaged rape in history and that he needed to re-establish his personal control over the situation immediately.
"All right, Butch, Slinky, lock those birds in the bathhouse and make sure they can't get out! We're taking this chick into the house where we can be comfortable, and if that Bangladoosh bunch wants to start trouble over it, then we'll be ready for 'em. And after we've got our rocks off, we're gonna come back and cut your balls off, Mister!"
Knives flashed and Dexter's friends scuttled nervously into the bathhouse which was by the side of the pool, while the young millionaire groaned with the atrocious pain in his chest, heaved himself unsteadily to his feet and followed. While Slinky stood guard over Mandy, Butch and Murphy slammed the doors shut on the five unhappy socialites and locked them in from the outside. The girl felt the point of the knife prick the tender skin of one of her buttocks.
"The house is thataway, baby," growled Slinky menacingly. "Git!"
The girl walked obediently in the direction of the Fenlon-Smith mansion, realizing that she was going to have to do the acting job of her life if she was to save them all, particularly her life and Dexter's balls.
"OM!" she said in a low chanting voice as the four of them stepped through French windows into a large spacious bedroom. "OM! OM! Hare Krishna!"
"Who's OM?" asked Murph suspiciously, grabbing her by the arm and flinging her lust-provoking body down on the soft mattress.
"Oh? It has nothing to do with you," Mandy informed them loftily, letting her body go completely slack. "Go ahead and do whatever it is that you wanted to do. I was merely putting myself in the hands of Hare Krishna and asking forgiveness for us all and mercy on our souls."
There was a zipping noise as Murph undid his fly, and Mandy realized that her performance was having very little effect.
"Who's this Harry Krishna?" Butch wanted to know as he folded his leather pants and hung them over the back of a chair.
"He is the god of healing," responded Mandy simply, watching the three men quickly rid themselves of their clothing.
"You sick or something?" Butch looked a trifle worried.
"Yes, you see in Bangladesh we have many strange diseases which are unknown in the West. I have come to your country ..."
"Listen, did we come in here for fucking or talking?" Murph shouted in irritation, seeing that this strangely attractive oriental woman was on the verge of mesmerizing his men. "She ain't sick, and I ain't waitin'!"
"Right on baby, let's all do it together!" volunteered Slinky, who crawled over the massive double bed, catching her from behind and pinning her shoulders to the mattress. His long cock waved obscenely in her face as he kneeled triumphantly over her, and Mandy suddenly realized the significance of what he had just proposed. Do it all together? How . . . what could that possibly mean?
"Okay, but first lemme get'er wanned up. That's real fine eating pussy I see before me, and I guess I'll have me a lick or two." Murph volunteered.
Without further warning, the biker's muscular body was between her obscenely outstretched legs, and the man's swarthy face was invading the privacy of her groin. His fingers actively drew apart the interfolded pink lips of her pussy, but the girl did her best to lie perfectly still, occasionally chanting "Hare Krishna" whenever she needed to disguise a groan or a pant which was escaping her lips. The other two men watched sadistically as their leader unfolded the girl's body, his fingers surprisingly delicate.
His lips inched closer, and Mandy sighed in despair as she felt the sensitive caress of his hot breath sending zephyrs of forbidden pleasure into her naked loins. She had no hope of being able to resist this lewd attack, if past experience was any guide. It seemed that everytime a man touched her, she caught fire, and there was no reason to expect things to be any different this time, either. The best she could hope for was concealing her true condition from these sadistic rapists. She must not give them the pleasure of knowing what they were doing to her!
Murph's head dropped and without warning his long hot tongue snaked hungrily into the moistly throbbing passage of her cunt. Instantly, Mandy felt the tiny wisps of illicity sex-joy curling deep in her belly. Murph attacked again and again, relentlessly, his tongue pushing its way farther and farther into her rapidly warming vagina as the girl's sleek buttocks wiggled convulsively. Butch and Slinky found it hard to decide whether she was still desperately trying to escape the furious tongue lashing she was getting, or whether her resistance had already come to an end and she was beginning to enjoy the bizarre, lewd thing being done to her. The truth of the matter was that Mandy was not too sure herself.
"Hare Krishna!" she gasped, still trying to keep up the pretense of being oriental and mysterious, but as Murph savagely ravaged her loins, the flames leaped higher and higher. With a poorly concealed sob she admitted to herself that the game was up. The roller coaster of her overstimulated senses had started to roll, and she was going with it for the longest, wildest ride of her life! In a few short moments, she had forgotten about Dexter, and the bloody "S" cruelly hacked into his chest, locked with his naked shivering friends in the bathhouse. Gone were her fears and hopes for the future, overwhelmed by the deeply gnawing hunger buried deep in the pit of her belly, and the emptiness which cried out to be filled at any cost!
Cock was what she needed, and she knew in a brief awful moment of self-awareness that she needed it badly. But she could not give up the role she had been playing, an aristocratic lady from the mysterious East.
"That will do!" she said sharply, like a school teacher correcting a group of unruly children. "You may now proceed to the .. . the next stage. Hare Krishna has answered my prayers. The spirit of Rothmum is upon us."
"What the hell is she talking about?" muttered Slinky in amazement.
"I think she wants us to fuck'er." guessed Butch accurately. "And if she and this Harry Krishna fella are both ready, I reckon we are, too!"
There was a moment's confusion while the three thugs sorted out who would go where and do what. It was clear that taking her one at a time was out of the question. All three men were now far too excited to wait. Mandy realized dimly that she was about to be buffetted amongst the three men like a rag doll, all the orifices of her tender young body being used as lewd receptacles for their fiery sperm, but she knew in the same horrifying moment that there was nothing she could do to stop them. It was their ball game and they could invent their own rules!
Butch threw himself on the bed behind her as Murph rolled her over onto her side, and she felt the man's hands probing lecherously between the smooth firm half-moons of her buttocks. Her ankles were being pulled violently apart, and she groaned with pain as the two men, each working from opposite sides of her nakedly tormented young body, stretched open her thighs in order to bare her loins for the carnal indignities they intended to inflict upon her.
Murph entered her first, pounding his way into her churning vagina and finding to his surprise and delight that she was totally ready for him. The soft moist internal flesh of her little-used cunt gripped him with astonishing force, and the tough ruthless biker found himself obliged to groan aloud with pleasure. Mandy was too far lost in a merciless mental jungle of shame and excitement now to object to anything these brutes tried to do to her, but she groaned in discomfort as she felt Butch's stubby fingers invading the furrow between her buttocks, poking persistently at the tiny pink circle of her anus.
With a shock she realized that it had only been a matter of hours since the late lamented Edgar Marvel had taken her there, and her rectum was still soft and yielding. Mandy did not know the meaning of the word "analerotic", but her experience with the hotel manager, unpleasant as it was, had taught her that the use of the rear passage was not necessarily all that terrible. She took a deep breath as she felt Butch's long thin , cock sliding obscenely between her buttocks, knowing that it would be uncomfortable at first, but also knowing from experience that she could take it.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Hareeeeeeeeee Krishnaaaaaaaaaa!" came the girl's groan as the pointy tip of Butch's superhardened instrument fought its way into the narrow opening. Butch was decidedly bigger in the penis department than Mr. Marvel had been, and the entry was consequently more difficult. But Butch was a determined young man with a decided preference for rear entries, and he ground his way into her, jerking his hips forward ruthlessly and grunting with obscene joy as he felt his iron-hard cock slowly disappearing into the flaccid unresisting flesh of her badly stretched little rectum.
"Shit, I got it all the way in, guys," he boasted proudly, and promptly began rocking slowly back and forth in order to widen the tortured back passage to his satisfaction. For a few minutes, Butch and Murph slammed their respective cocks into her in a haphazard, uncoordinated manner, grunting and laughing as the poor battered girl bounced back and forth between their two muscular bodies, the breath knocked out of her lungs by the rampant force of this bizarre rape. To make matters worse, Slinky was dancing wildly up and down on the bed, his gigantic pulsating cock in his hands, practically delirious with vicious joy as he watched the sloe-eyed foreign woman being fucked half-to-death before his eyes.
"Hey, we gotta get organized," grunted Murph as the mattress bucked and heaved beneath him as a result of Slinky's enthusiasm. "Listen, you try pushing while I pull and then vice-versa, and we'll see how that works. Goddamn, this chick's got a cunt like melted butter! Okay, are you ready? You pull when I say go!"
Murph pushed and Butch pulled, more or less simultaneously and Mandy's body seemed to fill with charges of alternating current as one achingly hard cock plunged into the yielding submissive depths of her body and then abruptly withdrew as another took its place.
"No, both together!" cried Murphy, changing his mind, and the two men quickly altered their rhythm, timing their strokes so that the two of them plunged home simultaneously.
"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh," groaned Mandy, now half out of her mind with the bizarre degrading treatment she was getting from the two men. The girl forgot about chanting Hare Krishna as a long low crooning sound escaped from her lips, interrupted by periodic grunts as the two men skewered furiously in and out of her. Tentatively, her hips began to rotate in tiny circles as the lust in her overheated loins began to spread over her voluptuous young body. Suddenly Slinky was kneeling by her head, arranging his body so that her face stared up at his long pulsating rod which was suspended over her open lips like the prow of a ship.
"Now, we're gonna suck a little cock, aren't we, China-girl." he taunted her cruelly, taking his bludgeoning instrument in his hand and rubbing it humiliatingly around the corners of her mouth. He expected that this, at least, would cause her to rebel, but Mandy was ready for anything by this point, and just as Slinky was preparing to force his way into her throat, the girl's lips simply opened and she welcomed him in like a guest.
She was filled. She was doing everything a woman could do for a man, and she was doing it all at once for three men! Inside of her cruelly stretched mouth, a man's cock pulsated and quivered with violent lust, and her loins too were full and satisfied. Mandy's first orgasm swept over her almost without warning, and she found herself a little amazed at how easy it was to cum. Every time a man looks at me, it happens, she thought vaguely as her over-stimulated body seemed to rise up off the bed with rapturous physical delight.
Then Butch began to grunt behind her, flinging out a stream of obscenities as his cock suddenly sitffened, nearly doubling in size as the semen sprayed from his swollen testicles into the warmly receptive upper reaches of her anus. And when he came, she came with him, sucking Slinky's cock so far down her throat in her ecstasy that the biker feared he was being eaten alive.
Murph had been at it the longest, and he was next, closing his eyes and shoving with all his might as the spasm took possession of his body. Mandy had just floated back to earth, but she was ready for take-off almost immediately, and she went with him, his rigidly quivering penis crushed hard against the softness of her clitoris. The cum seemed to go on forever this time, for both of them, as Murph pumped the hot sticky sperm violently up into her hungrily clasping little cunt.
And then at last it was Slinky's turn. His burning cock now halfway down her throat, he wanted to prolong the pleasure, make it last a little longer, but the sight of all this ecstasy was too much for him. He had expected no cooperation whatsoever from this girl as he vilely fucked into her mouth, but instead, she was giving him everything she had, caressing him expertly with her lips and stimulating him beyond belief.
He came, very hard, sperm spraying recklessly into the back of her throat as he thrust his hands fiercely into her hair lest she try to escape her fate at the last moment. But Mandy was through running. She gulped, ravenously, drinking him as if his cum was the nectar of the gods, nibbling and sucking on his slowly deflating tool like a mother cat cleaning her kittens.
Then she came again, just for good measure.
When some semblance of sanity returned, the three bikers were buckling their belts and climbing back into their boots. All three of them were still in a mild state of shock, and kept glancing back at the bed where the girl lay, bathed in sweat and cum, too tired even to bother closing her legs.
"Shit, I never saw a gal cum like that in all my life," breathed Murph, still unable to figure it out. "First time I ever raped anybody who had more fun than I did."
"Yeah, it was fun, but I still got a score to settle with that rich son-of-a-bitch who kicked me in the head," muttered Butch, who tended to be in a bad mood after sex. "Think I'll meander on out and do some more carving."
Mandy shook her head, realizing that her little act had not quite worked. They still intended to harm Dexter, despite her sacrifice! But she had one more card to play. Sitting up slowly so as not to alarm them, she assumed the lotus position, crossing her legs in front of her cum-soaked pussy and placing her hands on her knees, the way she had learned from Volume Three of the Universal Encyclopedia. She bowed to the three men profoundly, composing her face as if for prayer.
"Oh my Masters, thank you for bringing happiness, the joy of Narthusi into my last days before I become one with Rothmum, the pure heavenly spirit." she intoned quietly. Murph turned around to look at her, scratching his head in perplexity.
"You mean like you're really sick or something?"
"Yes, your famous doctor here was able to diagnose, but not to cure. My case was far too advanced. Soon, I shall be in the arms of the Pure Heavenly Spirit."
"Uh .. . excuse me, but this sickness of yours ain't catching, is it?" muttered Slinky suspiciously as he felt his brow for signs of a fever.
"Horribly," Mandy told them maliciously. "In effect, it attacks the genital organs, first, of course, since that's how the disease is spread. At least half the people in Bangladesh have it."
"Oh, Christ, isn't there a cure?" groaned Butch, desperately clutching the portion of his person he feared might be infected. Fear spread around the room like a contagious infection. There was no reason for the girl to lie now, they reasoned ...
"The only thing which will kill the infection in its early stages is total immersion in the excrement of horses," she informed them seriously. "You must spend at least twenty-four hours in it, chanting Hare Krishna and meditating on the Pure Heavenly Spirit! Then you will probably escape the disease. At least that is what we do in Bangladesh."
"Oh horseshit!" sputtered Slinky.
"Ah yes, I always forget the word in English," Mandy nodded. "Horseshit, and preferably warm."
"Come on, let's go!" Murph ordered, his face suddenly pale with fear.
"Where wegoin"
"The race track, stupid! Where else are we gonna find a ton of horseshit this time of night!"