Chapter 2
At ten o'clock the next morning Lori was vacuuming the thick carpet in the bright sunlit living room. She was barefoot, and wore only tight denim pants and a blouse that tied at the waist. Bill had risen and left before she had even begun to stir.
It's just as well, she thought bitterly. I don't think I could have stood a confrontation this morning. Not after what he did to me last night.
Her vaginal area still throbbed, an aching reminder of their clash over Edy Randall. She had never seen her husband lose control like that, and he had certainly never been so brutal or violent in his lovemaking. Remembering the loss of the anticipated weekend, Lori suddenly switched off the vacuum cleaner and sat quickly on the plush sofa, tears streaming uncontrollably from her eyes.
What's happening to my marriage, she thought tearfully. Why am I so plagued by this jealousy? What's wrong with me?
She knew much of the fault lay with her difficulties in freeing the erotic part of her nature.
But I've been trying, God knows I've been trying to overcome it I She resented her husband for his cruel rape, for his extreme irritation with her difficulties. It seemed to her that he cared more for his business activities and his career than for her. She sighed deeply, utterly weary of the whole problem. It was a vicious circle to her, a puzzle with no solution. Their marriage, which had begun so brightly, now was in a serious decline, and there seemed to be nothing that could be done - Lori rose from the couch and gazed about the spacious living room. It was furnished simply but elegantly, in carefully chosen Danish modern furniture. The walls were graced with beautiful charcoal etchings and pastels. Bill's hi-fi, mounted on shelves, nearly covered an entire wall, and another wall was glass windows from floor to ceiling which gave a breathtaking view of Los Angeles, sprawled like a sleeping, sensuous female across miles of California desert land. In the distance the blue Pacific sparkled and hypnotized Lori's eyes as she gazed at it gleaming in the morning light.
The young wife loved the ocean; it was the best thing about Los Angeles because she had never felt at home in the city itself. The people seemed so strange and bizarre to her! When she had been very young her parents had lived in the East. Now she could barely remember the graceful Connecticut country home where she had lived those blissful early years before the plane crash that took the lives of her mother and father. After that it seemed her world had ended. Suddenly she had been transported across a huge continent to live with an aunt she had never seen before.
Aunt Dorothy, she thought sadly. I guess she tried to raise me the best way she could. She was so unhappy, and so afraid of everything, especially men.
She remembered her years with her spinster aunt, living almost like a recluse, having very few friends - and those few handpicked by her diligent relative. She knew only school, and the deadly quiet of her aunt's house, filled with Victorian knick-knacks and antiques. She had taken a secretarial course in high school and as soon as she graduated got a high-paying job in a Los Angeles accounting office. Then, hardly eighteen, she met Bill - practically her first boyfriend. And it was love at first sight.
When she first saw him in the luncheonette, dressed in a pearl-gray suit, blue shirt and blue-green tie, he seemed to be the handsomest man in the world. He was tall and slender and had Nordic blond hair, nearly white, and deep, penetrating blue eyes, as vividly blue as his shirt. She could scarcely believe it when he caught up with her on the street and charmed her into a date.
Even Aunt Dorothy liked him, she remembered.
It seemed only a few months before they were married. It was like a dream come true! Cinderella had found her Prince, and now all there was to do was wait for a happy ending. But the happy ending seemed nowhere in view at the moment.
A doorbell interrupted her reverie.
Now who could that be?
She was expecting no one. She walked to the door and called out before opening it.
"Who is it?"
"Grocery boy," the voice said on the other side.
Puzzled, Lori unlocked the door, but opened it only as far as the chain-lock would allow. She saw a swarthy, darkly handsome, long-haired young man in a white delivery coat with two bags of groceries.
"Is this the Taylor's apartment?" he asked, smiling.
"Yes, but I didn't order any groceries."
"Are you sure? I mean this is the address and name they gave me...They usually don't make mistakes."
"I'm positive."
Suddenly she thought perhaps Bill might have ordered some food without telling her. It seemed improbable, but it might be true.
"Well," she said somewhat hesitantly, "come in. But I don't think they're for me."
"Gee, I'd appreciate it," the young man said. "These bags weigh a ton."
Lori undid the lock and swung the door wide. The youth moved into the apartment, and Lori closed the door behind him. Suddenly she felt herself being shoved aside.
"What's going on?" she asked somewhat fearfully. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure we won't be interrupted, that's all."
Lori was seized with fear; the world seemed to jolt off its axis as she watched the dark intruder locking her apartment door. He had dropped the bags on the floor, and she saw that there were no real groceries in them, only paper and empty cartons, made to appear like bags of groceries!
"Oh God," she cried. "Who are you?"
The young man turned to Lori, his dark eyes nearly paralyzing her with the intensity in them.
"Spyder's the name, bitch."
Her mind exploding with alarm, Lori saw him unbuttoning his delivery coat. He had a tall laborer's build, with long black straight hair. His skin was dark, and Lori guessed he must be Italian or Greek. His face was craggy and fierce, yet frighteningly handsome, in spite of the round gold earring in his left ear. Suddenly, as he took off his white jacket, Lori realized that he was a motorcycle outlaw! For under the jacket he wore only a ragged, greasy denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off. The jacket was decorated with Nazi emblems and cloth patches from brand-name oil and beer companies; silver studs, crudely hammered into the dirty denim, gleamed in the sunlight; and laced around the shoulder holes were thin strips of rawhide. He wore no shirt underneath, fully revealing his thickly muscled arms and their bulging, tattooed biceps; his chest, sculpted like a boxer's, was tufted with dark curling hair. His stomach muscles rippled with rock-hard flesh above the tight low-cut Levi dungarees. Lori guessed they must be what she had heard were called "originals", which were jeans never washed from the day the outlaw is initiated into his club. The tight material molded to every inch of his massive thighs and was stained with grease and dirt; rips and holes, from months of heavy wear on his motorcycle, showed patches of dark, hairy flesh beneath. The bulge of his crotch, incredibly huge, was an obscenely vulgar mound.
He isn't wearing any underwear, she thought, icy prickles of terror racing through her, as she saw the vivid outline of his cock, like a thick piece of hose beneath the tight material. He wore dirt-encrusted, black, silver-buckled boots.
"Like what you see, cunt?" he asked, seeing her eyes rove almost uncontrollably over his massive, muscular frame.
"What...what do you want here?" she asked fearfully.
He laughed harshly.
"What do I want? Revenge, baby, revenge. You dig?"
"What are you talking about? I've never seen you before in my life!"
"No? Think again, babe. You have seen me before, you just don't remember it!"
Lori racked her brain but couldn't remember where she had seen him before. I don't remember you...." she said, tears forming on her eyelids. "You're playing some kind of game with me...why? Why?"
"You mean you don't remember the Satan's Studs?"
Satan's Studs!
Suddenly Lori's mind flashed back to a notorious courtroom murder case that Bill had been involved in. A motorcycle outlaw was accused of murdering a movie producer in his apartment. The outlaw gang was called...Satan's Studs!
"Yes," she said. 'Yes, now I do remember. That murder, last year...."
"Now you've got it! Your fucking prick of a husband sent my best buddy Sal to jail on a murder rap!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Your husband was working with the DA's office, and helped that picture studio railroad Sal into jail in order to whitewash the goddamn producer!"
"I don't understand," she moaned tearfully. "I don't understand."
"That producer had called us ... us! He calls the Satan's Studs, because we're famous all across this country and he knows it! He needs us for his picture so he can make some money! He's even going to use our name, Satan's Studs, in the title!. So Sal, my buddy, he's our business manager, you dig? And he goes to meet this guy, and the guy turns out to be queer! You dig? A fag! There's no fucking picture, this guy just wants to make Sal! No Satan's Stud gets duped like that, man, no way! So this fag starts gettin' uptight 'cause Sal's calling his bluff; he threatens to call the cops and then he starts runnin' after Sal with a gun! The gun went off, it was an accident, but Sal got sent up! Because they had to keep the whole deal quiet or there'd be a scandal! Nobody frames the Satan's Studs, nobody! YOU DIG, BITCH?" His teeth were tightly bared as he leered at Lori. They were so close she could smell the heavy liquor on his breath, and see where pieces of his teeth had been chipped away in accidents. She tried moving away from him, into the living room, but he was right behind her.
"What do you want with me? I didn't have anything to do with it!"
"No, but your husband did! And now we're gonna get revenge!"
"H .. . how?" she asked timidly. "What are you going to do?"
He laughed again.
"You'll find out, baby. Now, how about some booze. What have you got around here, huh? Let's get acquainted over a nice slug of hooch."
He saw the bar in the corner of the living room and went to it. As he began to pour himself a drink, Lori realized she was literally being held captive by some sort of madman; panicking, she ran to the phone and began frantically dialing for the police. Spyder threw down his glass, ran to her, and tore the phone out of her hands, slamming it down.
"None of that, baby."
He grabbed her wrist and wrenched her away from the phone.
"Ooooohhh! You're hurting me," she cried.
"You ain't seen nothing yet, cunt," he sneered, hurling her to the couch. "Now you stay there and don't give me no trouble, or I'll rip that phone out of the wall and slam you across the mouth so hard nobody'll recognize that pretty face of yours ever again! You dig?"
She glanced up at him, completely terrified. The trembling young wife knew instinctively that she had to submit to him completely or there was no telling what he might do.
"All ... all right," she said, barely audible.
"That's more like it," he said, pouring some Scotch into a shot glass. "You just do what I say, and everything'll be fine, just fine." He gulped down the liquor, smacked his lips, and leered at her.
Lori's mind could barely comprehend the stormy turn of events. How could all this be happening to her?
"How...how did you get in the building," she asked in a small frightened voice.
"Rigged up a fake delivery truck and groceries and found me that white jacket. Walked right in the service entrance. Nobody even knew I was in the building."
Lori thought bitterly to herself that they were paying an enormous rent for the safety of a doorman and guarded lobby, but any crook apparently could slip in if he had even the slightest imagination.
As the liquor began to make itself felt in Spyder's brain, he gazed lustfully at the young wife he had come to menace. He saw her cowering in a corner of the deep, soft couch, her long dark hair tangled wildly around her head and shoulder. She looked imminently fuckable in her tight denim slacks; the ample curves of her upthrust breasts were fully revealed by the thin material of her blouse.
Some chick! he thought admiringly, that's a goddamn lucky break for me!
His huge, muscular cock stiffened with lust at the sight of the vulnerable young girl on the sofa. He wanted to sink his hard shaft of impatient gristle right into her, imagining she would be soft as pudding, sweet as candy. Slugging down another shot of whiskey, he began to anticipate his unholy mission. It had been agreed among the Studs that revenge must be taken on everyone who had had anything to do with Sal's conviction. Bill Taylor was first on the list, and the revenge would be sweet: the kidnap and systematic rape of his wife by the entire gang, with Spyder taking the first "plunge."
In anticipation, he reached down and began slowly stroking the bulging outline beneath his loins, grinning obscenely at his cringing victim.
"You like to get fucked, bitch?" he asked.
Lori felt a shudder of revulsion shoot through her at his foul language.
"ANSWER ME!" he shouted.
She felt paralyzed, as if the shock of last night's horrible encounter with her husband, combined now with the nightmarish intrusion of this brute from the bowels of the city, had numbed her brain. She was like an automaton, past the point of feeling horrified, or even fearful. . . only a numb, empty paralysis. "I...I..." she stammered helplessly.
"SAY IT! I LIKE TO GET FUCKED! SAY IT!"
"I...I...like...." her voice was tiny, barely a whisper..."like to ... to ... "
"LOUDER!"
The violence of his command made her jerk with fear.
"I like to get...get...." the words stuck in her throat, as if frozen, "get fucked...." the horrid word tore loose at last...'There! Is that enough? I like to get fucked! I LIKE TO GET FUCKED!"
She was shouting now, almost hysterical!
"FUCKED! FUUUCCCCKKKED!" she repeated. "FUUUCCKKED!"
Realizing with a rush of guilt what she had said, she buried her face in the arm of the sofa, utterly ashamed.
"Beautiful, baby," Spyder slurred, already feeling the full effects of the drinks. "Have a drink to celebrate!"
"No ... no ... " she tried drawing back on the couch as he approached with a huge shot of Scotch for her. As he came nearer she could smell the pungent masculine odor, both from his semi-nude body, and from his ragged, filthy clothes that had seen so much use and wear. It both repelled and excited her. He sat next to her on the couch and leaned in with the drink. The massive, overpowering masculinity almost made her faint. He exuded a powerful sense of life that made her feel small and tiny. Oddly, despite her loathing, she felt little prickles of desire go through her.
Oh God, how can I feel this way? He's horrid!
"Drink it, babe," he commanded, shoving the drink to her mouth. "Drink it, and let your hair down. You got a long weekend ahead of you."
She turned her face away, but suddenly he grabbed her by the hair and forced her head back to face him.
"Don't turn away from me, bitch! Now drink!"
He forced her mouth open, and poured the Scotch into it. She gagged and coughed as the burning liquid surged down her throat. As she struggled, the drink spilled over her clothes, and she was suddenly sopping wet with Scotch. Some spilled on Spyder.
"Far out, baby, far out! Better get those wet clothes off, right? Might catch cold!"
"No! NOOOOO!" she screamed, as without warning, he tore away the wet blouse, ripping it from her fearfully trembling body. He quickly undid the clasps of her bra, throwing it in a corner, then bent and began licking and sucking on her firm nakedly warm breasts.
Pinned by his powerful body in the corner of the plush couch, the terrified young wife could only twist and writhe in a futile effort to get away from his greedy wet mouth.
"Scotch-flavored tits! Fuckingfarout!" he exulted, then began to bite and suck again. Involuntarily, her red-tipped little nipples grew turgidly erect and her skin goose-bumpled and tingled from excitement.
Lori's mind was a rushing torrent of conflicting thoughts. She was revolted by this repellent animal slavering over her like a dog, but another part of her, called forth from the dim recesses of her unconscious by the violent succession of shocks she was experiencing, found that the gross activities were actually strangely thrilling. It was as if she was being permitted to enter another world, a world that was as different from what she was used to as night and day, but one in which she found a certain, dark, instinctive kinship. But then, her mind was flooded with the shocking reality of what was happening, and she began to resist with all her strength.
"Nooo...NOOOOOOO!" she screamed. "LET ME GO!"
With all her strength, the half-naked young wife struggled to get free, and managed to slip from his grasp. Rising from the couch, she started to run to the kitchen, but the brutal youth grabbed her roughly by the arm and threw her down onto the soft pile rug of the living room.
"NO YOU DONT!"
Roughly, he reached down and ripped the buttons from her tight pants, then began peeling the slacks off of her legs.
"PLEASE!! PLEASE! I'll give you anything if you'll only leave me alone! Do you want money? I'll give you money!"
"Money?" Spyder snarled. "I don't want your fucking money." He threw her jeans into the corner, then stood up and unbuckled his tight, ragged pants. He yanked them down, suddenly exposing his naked genitals to her view. She had always been in awe of her husband's penis and testicles, but she gasped when she saw Spyder's were larger even than that. His huge, menacingly erect cock was stiff as steel, and his balls looked like two tennis balls hanging in a soft Swede sack.
"Nice, huh," Spyder said leeringly, as he saw the look of disbelief on Lori's face. "You like cock?" he asked as he grabbed his gargantuan tool and began to shake and jerk it in front of her eyes. He pulled back the thick slip of foreskin exposing the large, bulbous head that was red with blood and charged with lust.
"What you got under those silky little panties?" he asked crudely. Without waiting for an answer, he ripped the flimsy white garment from her loins, with a sound of tearing silk.
"Mmmm...nice and soft, these panties," he said, rubbing the sensually soft material over his angrily throbbing cock and balls exciting them even further. Lori tried to pull up her legs, to conceal her nakedly defenseless vagina, but the brutal motorcyclist merely reached down and yanked her legs apart.
"Oh no, you don't! Don't go playing sweet little girl with me! To me, baby, you're just a chippy! A whore! You got me? NOW SPREAD THOSE LEGS!"
She was shocked, overcome with a new and even deeper wave of horror. She closed her eyes, as if by doing so she could wipe away the nightmare that confronted her, but Spyder was not to be stopped.
"I said open'em!" he shouted, and pulled her legs apart revealing the trembling pink flesh of her cuntal slit nestled beneath the softly curling pubic hair. "Now that's more like it," he said, grinning lewdly down at her.
Lori was humiliated now beyond anything she had ever known possible. Feeling this man's eyes glaring shamelessly at her nakedly open vagina was too much to bear and she felt her flesh crawl in revulsion.
Spyder could see the loathing on her face, and this made him more enraged.
"So I disgust you, eh? Sweet, innocent little girl doesn't like Spyder, does she? You think I'm dirt! IS THAT IT?
"No...NO!" she whimpered.
"You're lying, you bitch! YOU'RE LYING! You all think cyclists are like trash! That's why Sal got sent up, that's why your husband called us pigs in the courtroom! Pigs, huh? WELL YOU'RE IN THE PIG-STY NOW, BABY, AND YOU'RE GOING TO FEEL A PIG'S PRICK IN YOUR PUSSY! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT?"
A wave of uncontrollable rage swept over him, and almost before he knew what he was doing he had yanked down his "originals" so that they hung around his engineer boots at his ankles. He took off his cutoff jacket and turned it to her eyes.
"Look at this baby! Look at it!"
On the back was a cloth patch sewn on with a death's head, and printed above it were the words SATAN'S STUDS, and below it, LOS ANGELES.
"This is the symbol of the Studs," he snarled cruelly. "We're a family, baby, a group! Fuck around with one and you got to take on all of us! WHAT I'M DOING NOW IS FOR SAL AND ALL THE STUDS." He slipped the jacket back on and stood over her, panting with lust, his genitals throbbing with a lurid mixture of rage and carnal desire. He reached down and turned her on her stomach, then kneeling behind her he pulled her up by her hips with a violent movement, so that she was propped on her knees and elbows like a dog. His eyes glazed. He grabbed the soft, fleshy globes of her buttocks harshly, his long fingernails digging into the tender flesh, sending shots of pain through Lori's body.
"AAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!" she screamed, feeling the sharp pain, her flesh trembling.
"That's nothing, baby, that's nothing!"
Consumed by revenge, his mind whirling with rage, he spread the cheeks apart with the palms of his hands, his eyes riveted on the tightly puckered rectal opening. A cruel smile played across his lips.
Lori shuddered with revulsion, as she felt Spyder's long-nailed fingers subtly exploring her anal crack; she was mortified and ashamed. No one had ever touched her there! Now she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as she felt his finger run up and down the crevice, sending shivers through her body. His finger stopped at the tight anal entrance. She could feel the edge of his fingernail explore the rim. With a gasp of horror she realized what he was about to do, and in the next split second she was consumed with a stinging shaft of burning pain as Spyder mercilessly jammed his finger into her anus.
"AAAANNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!" she cried.
She had never known such pain, like a red-hot knife searing into her tightly cringing anal passage and up through her back.
"Stop, stop! Please!" she cried, sweat breaking out on her forehead.
"Not a chance, sweetheart," he grunted, ramming his outstretched finger even further. Seeing her writhe and cry out in pain only increased his lust, so he forced his finger in deeper, further up into the tight little opening, widening, forcing entry as Lori continued to scream in terror and pain.
"AAAAIEEEEEE! NOOOOOOO!" For a moment the captive young wife thought if she screamed loud enough some neighbor might hear her and call for help. But she remembered with irony that the walls were totally soundproof, an exclusive feature of the building and one of the reasons they had moved into the apartment.
Spyder rammed and prodded his finger into the shuddering passage, sending unbelievable shafts of agony through Lori's painfully twisting young body. She pulled away, desperately clutching at the carpet, trying to escape the disgusting humiliation, but Spyder pulled her back, holding her tightly by the shoulder. He brutally fucked his finger in and out, forcing the elastic walls to widen, while his other hand held her firmly, his nails digging into the fearfully cringing flesh of her shoulders.
She moaned, overcome with shame, pleading for him to stop but he was deaf to her shouts. Then, suddenly he pulled his finger out of the painfully throbbing anal passage and positioned her hips again so that her firm white buttocks were thrust up defenselessly in front of his long hard penis. He began to moisten his huge, impatiently pulsating cock with spittle.
"Please...please...." she begged, "I'LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"
"This is what I want," he said, positioning his lust-engorged shaft at the entrance to her tightly puckering rectum. "THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT!"
With a cry of triumph, he pulled back the thick foreskin, revealing his massively throbbing cockhead, moistened it also with a load of spittle, and then, with a sudden move, shoved his eagerly pulsing rod into her virginal little anus. He rammed in with a vicious jerk that sent Lori's defensely kneeling body thrusting forward in agony.
"AAAAAEEEEEE!" she screamed.
The helpless wife was filled with shame at being humiliated like a gutter prostitute, kneeling obscenely with this hulking animal straddling her so lewdly.
Spyder looked down in triumph at Lori's tightly resisting anus, then grunted, and pushed his thickly pulsating cudgel in even further.
"OOOOOOHHHHHH PLEASE STOP! I can't stand if," she cried, trying to pull forward to escape. But he gripped her flesh more tightly, digging his nails into the tender whiteness of her hips, and forced her to remain servile in front of him.
Lori thrashed and wailed like a wounded animal, her head thrown back as she cried in pain with each vicious, body jolting thrust.
Spyder began to slowly fuck her in and out, each sodomizing thrust widening the straining elastic channel and easing his crude entry.
This is for you Sal, he thought in exaltation, this is for you! SATAN'S STUDS FOREVER!
He moved more harshly, increasing his tempo, his mind reeling with liquor and lust. His dangling, enormous balls were swinging and slapping at the moistly heated flesh of her vaginal slit, still aching and strained from her husband's earlier forcible screwing, and now pained even further by Spyder's crude, brutal attack on her sensitive little anus.
"NOOOOOO!" she cried, "NOOOOOO!"
But nothing could stop him now. She felt as if she was being ripped to shreds by the hot iron shaft of his penis. He pumped his hips back and forth, back and forth, brutalizing the tight walls of her backside with his wild pistoning. He rammed and shoved, excitement surging through him, as he heard the piteous wailing from the young girl who was so completely at his mercy. Christ, he thought, she sounds like she's dying.
Beneath him, though, a strange thing had begun to happen. As the torturous punishment reached its apex, Lori found herself surrendering to it involuntarily, out of paralysis, out of exhaustion bit by bit a totally new feeling began to ripple through her lithe young body. Unbelievable as it seemed to her, out of the burning humiliation and shame came an entirely new feeling of warmth and excitement. This was a sensation she had never felt in her entire life; as if she was melting, as if her body was consumed by waves of pleasure that made the pain seem almost bearable .... yes, even exciting.
"OOOOOHHHHH...." she moaned..."OOOOOOOOH!"
Spyder was grunting and moaning now, his body tense and shaking with lust; he was totally consumed by waves of hot, throbbing sensuality and he reveled in it. He loved to fuck, lived only for the sensual pleasures: whether fucking cycle "mama's", or riding his chopper, which gave him intense sexual excitement. Whenever he rode he usually had a hard-on and many times Rina, his latest chick, had jerked him off riding up the highway at ninety miles or more. He loved the Satan's Studs and their obscene world, and he loved Sal, his best buddy. When he was sent up the river on a phoney murder charge he resolved to get revenge, and now he was on the first plateau with the goddamned prosecutor's wife. He slammed his heatedly jerking penis into her tight little rectum with renewed lust.
Beneath his powerful ramming, Lori was experiencing something her conscious mind could not comprehend: it was as if a hidden aspect of her personality ... a wildness, a lewd thrill. . . were being wrenched up in her by Spyder's horrible attack. The pain had long since faded and was replaced by an extraordinary rapture. She moaned and felt her body thrash uncontrollably like a demon.
Feeling her squirm ecstatically beneath him, Spyder increased his tempo. He knew she was beginning to enjoy it.
They're all alike, he thought lewdly, the little princesses who screw like whores when they realize what's waiting for them' Well come out of the closet baby, and welcome to the land of fucking!
His swollen penis plunged still deeper into her hotly heaving anal passage, and he could feel white hot sperm begin to gather and surge through his testicles.
Lori, too, was suddenly caught up in a whirling vortex of excitement such as she had never known before. She felt extraordinary velvety warm flashes surging through her wantonly writhing loins. Her voluptuous young body was trembling with an animal-like passion...the pain nearly lost in the delicious new thrills that filled her. She was cumming! dimming for the first time in her life.
"OH GOD, OH GOD!!" she cried ecstatically as she felt her vaginal walls secreting their female juices with an aching sweetness that was beyond belief. "IT FEELS SO GOOOOOOOODD! SOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOODDDDD!"
"AH . . AH...AHHHHHHHH!!!!" Spyder shrieked as he shot his raging load of super-heated semen into the violently clenching depths of her rectum. Convulsive spasms rippled through his wildly jerking cock as he spewed a seemingly unending torrent of white-hot cum deep into her.
Lori could feel the boiling lava spurting into her loins and seeming to spread out through her entire body. She felt as if she was melting and flying off in a million tiny pieces! She could scarcely believe how wonderful it was! Her own heated juices were gushing inside her vaginal passage, triggered into release by the turbulent activity in her nether above. All pangs of guilt and revulsion were washed away in the vast, hot ocean of ecstasy that surged through her.
Spyder rammed his great invading cudgel back and forth, like a primitive barbarian, until finally, after what seemed forever, the last of his white sperm jetted into her. Then, with a sudden pop, he pulled away and slumped to the floor.
Lori lay heaving and panting, feeling the return of pain to her hideously stretched and shuddering anal passage. She realized she had been through the most terrifying ordeal of her life. Yet, despite the horror, she found that she had experienced her first real orgasm...and SHE LOVED IT! SHE LOVED IT! She turned to see Spyder grinning lewdly at her, as if he read her thoughts. She emitted a little cry of alarm, and suddenly, in a dizzying rush, everything went black.