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Bring The Kids (As Day Fades & vertigis)

Tamara’s jaw clenched shut tightly, teeth grinding together as the man called her a good girl in his gentle coaxing voice. His hands kept busy, pushing, pulling, applying firm pressure to her back until he’d positioned her nubile young body just how he wanted it. Through it all she didn’t glance back, not even once, but simply stared forward at the grimy wall with its streaks of dirt as the tears streamed down her soft brown cheeks. Soon he was pawing at her dangling breasts, squeezing the soft tender flesh between his fingers while the warm hard outline of his cock sawed between the cheeks of her ass through his well worn jeans.

With the weight of his body pressed down against the small of her back, she felt something moist on her shoulder and realized he was kissing her with his mouth open now, wet and eager, tongue running along the hard line of her clavicle and up her long neck. It made her cringe, face contorting in an expression of intense fear and raw disgust. Part of her wished he would just do the thing, just get it over with, while another dreaded the moment when he finally forced himself into her dry pussy and began to rape her in earnest. Tamara kept praying that something would happen before then, that someone would come and call the pair off, but the longer the minutes dragged on, the more hopeless she became. This was going to happen, all of it, every bit, and then afterwards…

“I want…I want to…to feel you,” she whispered, the image of Tommy’s friend with his flashing knife again popping into her head. This man might be the only thing keeping her alive right now. She had to do what he wanted, had to keep him happy with her. “I want…you…you to fuck my pussy. I…love the…the feel of your hands on my…my tits. It…it makes me so…so hot…” There was nothing remotely convincing about her stammered words of course, and her voice cracked audibly as she heard the metallic slither of his zipper descending. A moment later she felt the thick tip of his cock pressing hotly against her mound, rubbing over her soft pink folds. His shirt followed and he leaned in even closer, the hard surface of his chest molding itself to the form of her gently arched back. “Y…yeah…yes, please…I want…I want you…in me…” her words punctuated with little sobs as she was made to beg for the very thing she wanted least. For him to fuck her.

****

The bathrooms were at last in sight and Melanie’s pace picked up as they grew nearer. If not for the distraction of the phone, she might have looked around, might have noticed the men lurking behind the corner of a nearby vender kiosk. She was too busy arguing with Renee though as they debated over what to do next. Her friend kept insisting that she was overacting, that all three girls would show up soon, that they probably went to check out the old haunted house or lover’s tunnel on the other side of the park like sensible people instead of standing by the entrance gawking at each other in the fading sunlight.

Instead of chasing after her baby sister as if the girl wasn’t old enough to take care of herself now.

“Christy! I’m serious, I’m not kidding, if you can answer me you better, or I’m going to kick your ass! If you think this is funny, it’s not! Christy! Please, where are you? CHR-”

Mel heard the crunch of gravel just in time to spin on her heels and spot the men rapidly closing in. There were two of them and they were less than twenty feet away, hunched down in a predatory crouch. The phone slipped from her fingers as she leapt backwards in surprise and it clattered on the pavement. Startled blue eyes shot from one to the other, noting the mohawk, and the dirty tatty clothes, as if she needed any other warning sign besides their body language and the fact they’d been creeping up on her this way.

“Who…? Stay back,” she said, continuing to inch backwards until her ankle struck something sharp and unyielding, causing her to stumble. It was the edge of a cement divider used to demark a row of decorative flower boxes, now full of dead weeds, spider webs, and old cigarette butts. It also effectively boxed in her as they fanned out, and her hands folded into small fists. These men weren’t as immediately intimidating as Brody but there were two of them and Mel wasn’t athletic like her sister or Tamara. She’d done some high school cheerleading and practiced yoga, sort of, when she had the time, but that was all. There wasn’t much chance of her outfighting them. Maybe if she could run…

“Mel? Mel! What’s going on? Hey…c’mon, not funny. Are you okay? Mel?!”

****

As the beast above her groaned out his pleasure, Christy continued to roll his sweaty ball sack in her mouth, rubbing her tongue over the unpleasant surface of his skin and coarse stringy hairs. When his rough hand pressed down on her head, petting her hair, she hunched up her shoulders a little further, fearing and hating his touch equally. That didn’t keep her from doing what she was told though. If anything the fear and lingering pain made her act with unthinking urgency. When he told her to jerk him off, her shaky right hand immediately reached up to wrap around his thick base as she began to pump the smooth shaft in her warm little palm.

They both heard the voice calling her name at the same time and she froze in mid-action. For a moment Christy couldn’t think and then her brain finally recognized that it had belonged to her sister Mel. She’d obviously come looking for her when she’d failed to come back. She was about to spit him out and yell back when Brody’s low whisper rumbled from his chest like a bear’s angry growl, threatening to break her neck and rape Melanie next if she stopped. Staring up at him, almost believing what he said in her fear of him, Christy seemed uncertain what to do, when suddenly her sister’s voice cut off sharply in the midst of calling her name. They both listened then and, as the silence grew longer, fresh tears began to spill from the corners of her fearful brown eyes.

“Mlll…Mlll…” Christy whimpered, repeating her sister’s name, although with Brody’s balls still stuffing her mouth the words themselves were hard to make out. Knowing something must have happened and finding herself helpless to do anything about it, she began to cry even more desperately, great racking sobs making her chest heave beneath her sporty summer top. As Brody glared down, her hand slowly resumed its stroking motion while she wept for her sister, for her friends, for herself. “Mlll…”
 
"Of course you do," he cooed, the whispered words floating upon an exhale of breath. "Of course you do baby," the messy haired brunette repeated, grinning toothily right behind her. She could cry all she wanted, it wasn't going to change things. One arm wrapped around her waist, holding over one hip, then right beneath her belly, and wrapping his touch around her hip on the far side. The other came up between her dangling breasts, crossed diagonally between them, his left hand coming up to hold the front and top of her right shoulder. With some mild shifting of his hips he was in place, and with a sharp intake of breath and a taut, muscled thrust, his backend tightened, his bulbous head penetrated her lips, and he took claim of her pink with his throbbing, velvety shaft.

"...I hope you're on birth control baby," he exhaled, after his cock penetrated her halfway in. Then with a grin Tommy slid those few inches out, till it was just his head engorged in those pretty pussy lips. He gave a second thrust, pushing himself in three quarters now, whether her body was ready and wanting to accommodate him or not. He grunted, audibly. "I'm not a 'condom' or 'pulling out' sort of guy." That resharpened the grin, and he took a moment to smooch Tamara on the left side of her neck, just below her jaw.

In the background Michael shifted a bit where he stood, inadvertently making some slight noise from something brushing against a booted foot as he did - some old plastic, in a pile with some other assorted garbage. He was back by the opposite wall, glancing out to the stone street and the other run-down shops and rides, arms crossed over his chest. The knife had found home in his pocket for the time being.

Tom kept pumping into her, holding Tamara with that lower arm, pushing into her three quarters, then back to the head...three quarters, then back to the head...then another grunt right beside her ear, and he pushed in all the way, balls lightly slapping those splayed dark pussy lips as he went into her to the very hilt.

"Talk to him," he whispered. Her left shoulder would be kissed, those words left to hang in the air a moment before he continued, "His name is Mikey...Mike. He likes getting blown. Call to him, tell him you wanna party with us both." All the while he pushed into her, back slightly arching each time, the muscles of his body flexing, finding and maintaining a slow, enjoyable pump.

- - - -​

Those very quick two seconds following Melanie turning, following her eye contact with the two oncoming men and her hasty assessment of them would cost her dearly - this would be known later as the moment she might have gotten away, but didn't. Tripping on the curb and into the patch of dead flowers and dirt certainly helped to seal that fate. Because the men had made some bad choices in life, they had and would do some very bad things, but they weren't dumb - when Melanie saw them they immediately righted their bodies without another word, shifting from a quick step to a hasty dash, running to sever that distance between them as fast as a person can.

One grabbed her ankles. The other followed suit by grabbing her wrists, holding them firm. Then hurriedly, "Evan! Evan!" Jake yelled, "Grab her up top! Take her - you take her!" The other man nodded, mouthed a quick 'alright' and let go of Melanie's feet, shifting to hold her up higher while the girl surely struggled. He transitioned in as Jake let her go, one arm wrapping around the blonde's front, beneath her chest, holding around her tight, the other taking a sharp fistful of her long hair.

Jake quickly went to the phone. His first instinct was to turn it off, or to smash it. The voice he heard stopped him halfway, the mohawked assailant pausing to listen as he held the phone above his head, arm extended and ready to throw it down.


'Mel? Mel! What's going on? Hey...c'mon, not funny. Are you okay? Mel?!'


It was a female voice. ...With any luck it was the last girl they were missing. "We have your friend," Jake spoke into the mouthpiece, holding the phone level. It had to be the last girl, otherwise she was talking to someone not here with them which would make them fucked already. "She's not supposed to be here. You're not supposed to be here. ...We just want to talk. And make sure you all go away. We don't want any problems." He glanced around. There was a brief pause, maybe only a second long before he started speaking again, but with the adrenaline coursing through them all right now it surely felt like longer. His eyes darted this way and that, taking in the nearby landmarks. "We do this my way. We're by some bathrooms, past the bumper cars, just past the carousel... There's a big restaurant past us toward the right, the ceiling looks like scoops of ice cream. We're before that. You have two minutes to turn yourself in, otherwise we kill the blonde."

He looked back to Mel and Evan, then up again, eyes quickly scanning over the possible directions whoever this was might come from. "I swear to God she'll be cold and we'll be gone before any cops ever get here, so don't do some stupid shit right now."

He hung up.

- - - -​

"Is she pretty?" Brody replied, smirking, sneering, reaffirming his control and soaking it in when she clearly wanted to call out but knew better. The whimper against his balls, whatever she was trying to say, would only go as far as that. The slow, defeated resume of her hand stroking his saliva-slicked shaft was the punctuation that marked the end of that sentence.

A hand moved, brushing the backs of fingertips against her sob-covered cheek. "Keep going," he said in a firm, simple tone, "we're not done."
 
The tears matted her dark lashes together and dripped from the corners of her eyes, trailing little dark lines of eyeliner down her cheeks. Tamara was not normally an easily frightened or timid young woman but in this particular moment, wrapped in her rapist’s tight embrace, she was trembling. His hips shifted back and forth as he made himself comfortable, the tip of his cock brushing teasingly against her dark lips. She heard the sudden deep inhale, his chest expanding to press even more flushly against her back, and screwed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw tightly. “Nmmfff!” The first firm thrust was met with that little whimper when he suddenly penetrated her sex with his warm throbbing cock.

It was intensely uncomfortable, painful even at times, as he began to saw into her smaller body, using his grip to hold her steady. More than that it was deeply humiliating. He made jokes all the while, hissing taunting comments about birth control and condoms in her ear as he fucked her dry, nuzzling her neck all the while as if this was merely a fun perverse game between lovers. It was the helplessness that shamed her the most. The sense that there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t fight him, couldn’t scream for help, couldn’t do anything but passively accept him, unless she wanted things to get even worse.

Her fingernails scratched against the wall, bare feet slipping on the dirty tiles floor as he suddenly thrust forward with greater strength. Another sob escaped her throat as his balls stuck her stretched lips, producing a small but audible sound in the deserted shop. Soon the regular slap of their bodies connecting could be heard as he fell into a steady pounding rhythm, burying himself in her pussy again and again.

As he began to whisper again she shook her head, her previously quiet subdued cries quickly growing more pronounced as her face contorted with fear. “No. Please,” she replied, pleading, her words sounding shaky with the force of his thrusts. “I don’t want… him, please. Just us, okay? Just us… I just want you…” The lies burned in her throat but the thought of his friend with knife joining them sent a shiver of terror coursing up her back. Monkey! With hate shining in his cold eyes. This was the first time she had actually refused anything Tommy had ordered, but it was too much, even with him crudely fucking her this way now. “…I can’t…”

*****

Renee was running in a full sprint before the phone had even gone dead. Her long thin legs carried her in a heedless rush back towards the bathrooms, tangled orange locks blowing out behind her back. With the possible exception of Shanti, she was the least athletic of the girls, lanky and thin, with extremely fair pale skin annoyingly prone to burning in the sun and a delicate frame. She spent far more time indoors than outside, preferring the company of her books and time spent in front of her computer than being around most people.

Mel was the exception. Mel had been her friend since grade school. Mel had been her only friend since grade school. They’d lived two houses down from each other and as girls they’d been inseparable. Things had changed sometime around eighth grade when Melanie had gotten pretty, or more pretty at any rate, growing into her slender body, filling out with those enticing curves in a way that skinny angular Renee never quite managed to do. Mel became popular, cheerleader popular, but she had never left her behind even so. She was always there. Always remaining her best friend. Never treating her any differently or excluding her from anything.

Behind her sarcasm and quirky nature, Renee loved Mel for that. Even if she didn’t particularly like her other friends anymore than she liked most people -- which was to say not much at all -- she would have done anything for her practically back then, and little had changed even now. That’s why she was running full tilt towards danger in what could only be considered an act of profound stupidity. And Renee wasn’t normally stupid. Of all the girls she was naturally the brightest with the quickest wit and best grades. Mel and Shanti may have held 4.0s as well but it was only through hard work. Renee managed it effortlessly. She’d been reading since she could talk and her interests were wide ranging. She’d never studied for a test in her life. She’d never needed to.

None of that mattered now though. All she could think about was the man’s voice on the phone and what he’d said. They were going to kill Melanie if she didn’t come to the bathrooms right now. Reene arrived with her sides burning and huffing loudly, out of breath. She could see the man holding Mel as she struggled, his hand cupped over her mouth. “Stop…stop…” she called out between pants, holding up her phone, “…let her go… We’ll leave… we don’t want any trouble…please… I won‘t call the police if you let her go…”

Renee had taken the time to tap in 911 before she’d arrived and it was now but a send button away as she stood there, staring at her friend and the man holding her through the lenses of her fogged over glasses, entirely uncertain what to do next if he should refuse.
 
"No," was Tommy's simple, firmly decided whisper, "this'll be good for him. This is what he needs." But he didn't rush the situation, instead enjoying the feeling of taking her - 'raping' her, if looked at through one lens, 'conditioning' her if looked at through the other, even 'making love to.' His kisses decorated her sweet chocolate skin. They danced along her shoulder. They explored the left side of her neck. They decorated her jaw and cheek, even as the front of her face drizzled with mascara and tears. The sound of Tommy's balls rapping against her pussy lips gradually sounded louder and louder, each new pump bringing him a fraction of an inch further, a fraction of an inch further, until he was thrusting all the way inside her each time without really realizing it.

He was pumping inside Tamara all the way now, balls deep, the rhythm audible and lewd. Occasional groans passed through his lips, the odd grunt here or there, his body weight leaning against her from behind. "That's his problem," he hotly breathed against Tamara's ear, his voice sounding with a slight labor to it, "show him what he's missing..." Another lusty kiss to her cheek. "Show him how good your kind can be."

Tom stopped. That final thrust after saying that his weight leaned down on her a bit more, his hips pushed a bit harder, getting every bit of himself into her he could. Then a gasp sounded from his lips, and with hands on her hips he slid himself out, popping his glistening, bobbing shaft out of her pussy. "Yo, Mikey," he spoke up, one arm wrapping around Tamara's midsection, around her tummy. His other took her by a wrist.

Michael looked up.

Tom brought her to a stand and started stepping to the side, his chest more or less to Tamara's back, and with his hands he started to turn her, one step at a time. He brought her around so it was his back toward the wall now where she'd been leaning and she was facing the shop - facing Mike. "Party with us both," he whispered, nuzzling his nose into her dark, long hair, closing his eyes. "No one's getting hurt right now - okay? You don't have to worry about him." Then, louder, "Our friend here wanted to ask you somethin'."

- - - -​

Jake saw and heard her coming about the same time.

Evan piped in a moment later, "Yo, I think I hear someone," in a heavy, rushed whisper.

Jake just dismissed him with a hand, motioning his palm downward. His eyes were already on Renee, on the pale-skinned redhead as she came from a desperate run to a stomping stop, breathing hard, forcing words between pants. The first thing that ran through his mind was this was definitely the last girl - great! The second, immediately after, was the phone she held up with her hand. He didn't notice - couldn't, really - from this distance that she'd dialed numbers. If she'd hit Send before approaching the group that could've either been her saving grace or the nail in her coffin, who knows. But she didn't. Now Jake's eyes were glued more on her hand than the college student herself.

"Put that down! You put that down now! ...Kick it away! ...Evan, make sure your grip is tight! Keep her in that choke!" He stood slightly bent; back, knees, arms, ready to pounce, to react. "Do some stupid shit and this is where she dies! Just lay down on the ground! Lay down, and it all gets taken care of, alright?!"
 
Tamara’s body swayed back and forth, pinioned between where her hands braced the wall and Tommy’s steady thrusts. From where they hung down, her soft brown breasts jiggled lightly with each fresh impact and the flesh of her ample behind smacked with the collision of his hips. She could hear his moans and grunts above her as he decorated her throat with moist kisses, weight heavy and inescapable against her bowed back. Again and again she prayed he would finish and, when he suddenly pressed forward harder, relentlessly stuffing his length into her stretched and aching slit, Tamara was certain this must be it.

Instead he slowly eased himself off her until he drawn back through her lips with a wet slick sound. Suddenly he was calling out to his friend as he readjusted his grip on her waist, making her stand, walking her around step by step until she was facing across the filthy shop. She was now staring directly at his friend, the one with the knife, feeling Tommy’s erection pressing hard and warm against her backside as he held her tightly to his chest. Her face contorted into another wretched sob as he whispered into her ear, rubbing his cheeks gently against her shoulder length hair.

Tamara again shook her head but didn’t see how she could escape it now. Tommy was insisting and if she flatly refused, she wasn’t sure what he might do in response. The one he called Mike was already watching them, already involved again. If her rapist decided to get angry or violent, she didn’t doubt he’d be more than willing to join in. He wouldn’t need her invitation for that. “…I…” Tamara’s voice broke as a fresh wave of tears spilled over her cheeks. “…want…want you to…to party with us… please…”

****

Renee’s flat blue eyes shifted from her friend to the snarling freak with the mohawk and back again. The phone hovered uncertainly in her hand. She couldn’t decide what to do. They were still threatening to kill Mel but how could she possibly surrender like he was asking? They’d be completely at their mercy then. If these two lunatics were willing to hurt them now with the threat of the police over their heads, then what might they be willing to do once it was removed?

“No…I… I will fucking call, I mean it.” Her voice hesitant as she addressed Jake, “You have to let her go first. Let us leave. That’s… I’m serious, that’s it… I’m not just giving you the phone…”

****

They’d both swarmed atop her before she could react. Melanie had kicked and scratched , fighting against their superior strength, but the end result was inevitable. Her wrists were twisted up behind her back as the smallest of the pair wrapped his arm around her waist, clutching her slender white throat with his other grimy hand and pressing down threateningly. The message was clear and she’d finally stopped squirming, a cold dread settling over her panting frame.

Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. What the fuck is happening here? What have we walked into?

When Renee came stumbling into view, her heart rate doubled until it felt ready to explode from her chest. For a brief second, she hoped they were telling the truth and they would release her just as agreed. Of course that didn’t happen. The man’s grip tightened even more firmly and she was soon having trouble breathing as he clamped down harder onto her neck, causing her to wriggle in his arms. While Renee tried to negotiate some kind of deal, she could see the mohawked man inching closer into his low crouch, placing himself in range, and Mel reacted reflexively. Driving the heel of her shoe as hard as she could into her captor’s shin, she felt his grip slacken momentarily, and screamed, “Renee, run!! Fucking run!! Get o-”

The man squeezed down again and she began to choke loudly, her friend’s eyes dropped the mohawk to stare in her direction again.

“Stop, stop it!” she heard Renee shouting. “Leave her alone! Let her go!”

****

Weeping quietly in her terror, Christy had continued to jerk Brody’s thick cock in her soft hand, tongue shifting back and forth as his hairy balls lolled in her overstuffed mouth. At the sound of Mel’s scream, again cut off abruptly in a way that now sounded strangled and pained, followed by Renee’s panicked shouts, she again froze. Pulling away from him with a sudden frantic energy, her lips peeled from back his testicles with a wet sloppy plop, ropes of saliva trailing down her chin.

“P-p-please, she’s my sister!” she begged in a pitiful whimper, barely recognizable through her heavy sobs, hands shoving at his thighs as if to push herself away, head still caught in his vice-like grip. “I have to…please…! Let us go, let us go, we didn’t do nothing! We won’t tell…don’t let them hurt her, please…!”
 
Tommy seized upon that, clearly pleased. With a grin he gave Tamara another kiss on her jaw, leaning over her left shoulder, his bare chest pressed up against her naked back. His firm shaft nestled against her just as firm backside, and both arms tucked themselves around her waist, hugging her about the stomach. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then looking forward, he spoke to Mike, "She wants you to come have fun with us man."

Michael just raised a brow. "Whatever."

"Whatever nothin'. What's it been, c'mon, like, two weeks since we hit the club? No, no, it's the weekend now I think, so that's more like three."

"...I'll pass," with a roll of his eyes.

"Why, because she's black?"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"But what about these?" Tom's hands came up to cup Tamara's breasts. He supported them some from underneath, leaving them exposed at their fronts. "These are some nice ass tits my man."

"Yeah, and? They're attached to a nigger!"

"And so what? Dude, look at this nice pussy she's got. Look at her waist. Look at her hot face and the hair, and the legs, and did you see her ass when I was behind her before dude?" He brought his hands down to her upper thighs, the forefinger and thumb of each coming together to form a frame around her naked vaginal lips. "Look at this pussy. Man, you can't tell me this just doesn't scream like a siren to come fuck."

"Dude, I will hang out while you do your business. Or I can just go. What's the big fuckin' deal about it?!"

"Because you're missssssiinn' ouutt, Mikey!" He rasped the words, hands going to Tamara's hips now. "In a meat market this'd be a choice piece, all over."

Mike sighed. Looking from side to side, he glanced back to his friend and gestured a hand toward him, "I don't get why you like black girls anyhow. How's a guy even stick his dick in one with a tat like that?"

"Because you're too new, you don't get it yet. Think back a couple hundred years ago. Slave owners fucked their bitches all the time, right? So what if they're inferior! I'm not saying make this girl your wife! Make her a house nigger, man, that's all. Have her do the dishes, get your nut off inside her, let her tell you if she overhears someone else gettin' outta line. ...It's a different type of dominance my man, it's not as aggressive but just as firm. Hell, some of them even come to like it after awhile, once you get 'em broken in."

Michael just sighed, looking from side to side, antsy and unsure. His arms crossed over his chest.

"Just try it. I promise, you'll see what I mean."

"...Alright. Whatever," he briefly put his hands up, then slapped both palms on the front of his pants, against his thighs. Standing from the wall, "What do you want me to do?"

"Get your dick sucked. She looks like she'd be good at that." Grinning, he gave Tamara another kiss, this one on the cheek, just to the left of her lips. Tom's voice lowered back down, meant just for her again, "Shh, shh, relax...he's not gonna hurt you, okay? No hitting. I'll teach him. But you gotta behave too, alright? ...Kiss me. Kiss both of us. Turn around, give me your best sexy look, and put your arms around my neck and kiss me with your tongue. Do it to both of us. Then I want you to go lay on the counter right there on your back, he's gonna be in your mouth and I'll be in your pussy. Okay? And we'll all be friends. Isn't that what anyone wants, just to have a good time?"

- - - -​

"No!" Jake shouted, "NO! YOU drop it! Evan, don't let go! You smash it on the ground, kick it away! I told you the rules, we do this my way!" Looking back and forth quickly between Renee and where Evan and Melanie were laying, Jake kept slightly bent at the knees, slightly arched forward with his back, one arm outstretched toward each as if it would do anything. He looked between them rapidly, speaking heated to both, "Evan I don't trust this chick! Start strangling her!" Back to Renee quickly, "There is ONE way this can go where she lives! I want you face down on the ground! I don't know who the FUCK you are and I don't give a FUCK about you, so you gotta make this choice, RIGHT NOW!"

- - - -​

Brody's natural instinct was, of course, to pull Christy's face back toward his crotch as she pulled away, she moving two inches back, getting lightly pulled an inch and a half back toward his hanging shaft and wet hairy balls, a few times in repetition like that. Then he allowed her to pull her head back more fully, even letting go with his hands. One went to his side. The other caressed the side of her face, her temple and cheek while he smirked, listening in to the commotion not that far away. Sounded like Jake out there.

"It's not up to me," quietly, with a chuckle. "They're gonna do whatever they're gonna do. If she does what she's told like you are, there ain't nothin' to worry about then. If you go runnin' out there without me...it'll probably be bad, for you both." He pet her cheek idly. Looking down, the dipping line of saliva between her lips and chin and his hairy ballsack was still hanging, refusing to fall away. God that was so fucking sexy. "Just tell her to shut up and do what she's told in your mind, babygirl... Now c'mon, show me you know how to suck some dick. Get me off hard and then we'll see."
 
Tamara stood in front of Tommy still as a display mannequin while he tried to coax his friend into joining them. Her chin trembled and tears continued to flow steadily down her cheeks, body trembling slightly within his arms. He made a show of highlighting her sexual characteristics -- lifting her heavy breasts, running his hands along her rounded hips, drawing his friend’s attention to her now sore and aching pussy -- and she blushed fiercely as he did so, although her dark skin kept it from being readily visible to them. This was all bad enough, worse than bad in fact, a living nightmare, but it wasn’t until the subject shifted that something sharp and icy at once froze and dug jaggedly into her stomach.

Tommy began to patiently explain to his friend why ‘niggers’ like her could still be worthwhile. They made useful servants. They were good for fucking. You could still have ‘fun’ with them despite their ‘inferiority’. As he spoke Tamara’s fear only doubled, finally understanding that he was just the same as his racist friend, only differing slightly in the sadistic details. He wasn’t going to help her, not really. He certainly wasn’t going to let her go.

There was something else that burbled up with the fear as well. Something hot and reckless and angry. She felt him kissing her neck and cheek again, whispering that everything was going to be okay, that she just had to give him a sexy look and a little tongue before spreading herself on the counter for them both to fuck and ‘be friends’. You fucker, you bastard… “O-o-okay…” Tamara answered in a quiet shaky tone, slowly turning around with his hands now balanced gently on her hips. Forcing herself to smile, plump red lips parting slightly to show a glimpse of white, she reached her fingers up to his grinning face, lightly tracing them along the contours of his strong jaw, dark brown eyes locking onto his for several long seconds. Her chest rose gradually, causing her naked breasts to again press warmly against his bare chest, the dark swastika tattoo now fully visible, while she took a deep breath and…

Dug her long pink nails into his cheeks and tore downward with all the strength she could manage. Placing her small; hands on his shoulders she then shoved him hard into the wall as his grip slacked, and turned to flee. Bare feet slapped wildly against the filthy tiles as she bolted towards the door, the counter still between her and the other psycho. Tamara had almost reached the handle when something tangled itself with her ankles, one of them tripping her perhaps or something discarded on the floors she‘d failed to notice in the semi-dark, sending her hurtling down to the floor with a pained grunt.

She was screaming and sobbing both as she fought to scramble back up to her feet, knowing it was all in vain now. This was going to happen. She was going to be fucked, raped by these sick assholes. And whatever else they chose to do…

****

Renee shook her head firmly as Mohawk shouted, stubborn despite the suffocating terror she felt. “No, I told you, no, I’m not going to do that, I…” He belted something at his partner about choking Mel and her already rapidly elevated breathing increased by another notch. She watched as the man’s hand immediately clenched down and the defiant look in her friend’s eyes quickly turned into uncontrolled fear, face shifting from a flushed pink to a dark and angry red as her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, like a dying fish. With his fingers digging roughly into her slender neck, her own began to flail against his hand, prying at his briefly until his other reached up and grabbed her wrist, pulling it back, now strangling her in earnest, weird frightening little wheezing whimpers sounding from deep within her throat.

“Stop! Stop!!” They were killing her best friend right before her eyes. Renee’s logical thought process began to unravel altogether as she panicked for real. “No, please, stop it! You’re…you’re going to kill her! Jesus Christ, you can’t!” Even if she dialed the number now there was no way the police would arrive in time to help Mel. It would take several minutes, maybe even as much as a half an hour for anyone to arrive at this out of the way place. She had no idea. She’d never been to this hick town. It might not even have a local police station. “Okay! Okay!!

Renee screamed the last two words as the phone tumbled from her fingers, bouncing against the cracked old cement where the weeds sprouted up in brown burnt patches. Still watching her friend’s now swollen features, blue eyes starting to bulge faintly and water dripping from the corners as she cried silently in her terror, the skinny young red head spread herself out on the ground, hands flat. “Please!”

****

All Christy could hear was the man screaming, threatening to choke her sister, followed by some muffled shouts from Renee in return. Afterwards, silence. Fresh salty tears stinging her soft brown eyes, she looked up at Brody as he petted her cheek with a false gentleness, the hand the very same one that her nearly broken her jaw with the brass knuckles. Shut up and do as you're told… That’s what he told her to pray for when it came to the others. She was smart enough to know that it was a warning meant for her as well. Despite what he said, there was no chance she was going to be able get out of here to help them. It was doubtful she could even get off her knees without him knocking her down again.

She reached with a shaky hand to break the string of semen and saliva that still connected her to his wetly shining balls. Choking back a sob, Christy leaned forward slowly to again wrap her lips around his fat cock, tongue pressing warmly against its length as she shifted it back and forth in her mouth. Her right hand began to rapidly pump his thick base, trying to just get him to cum however possible, to finally end this interminable moment, before something even worse happened outside…
 
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