"Goddamn it, Steece! Stop it back there! You want the law down on us? Stick to the plan, man, remember? You going to get yours!" Steece froze, then began pawing at Martie's breasts. Crazy thoughts ran through her mind about how she was a virgin and how she had waited so long for the right guy to come along. "Oh, why, why, why?" she cried aloud, hardly realizing she was speaking. "You got some nerve asking why!" Steece growled, relinquishing his grasp and straightening up on the seat. "You know why as well as I do! You think you can run loose making smart talk about blacks?" He jerked her up close to his face and snarled at her menacingly. "You heard black was good? Now you're going to find out firsthand!" Martie did find out, and her life would never be the same.
CHAPTER ONE
Martie stepped off the bus and walked the three blocks to the apartment with mixed feelings. All the way home she had been trying to tell herself that she didn't really care about the job, but somehow she knew she did. It wasn't the money-or the job itself. It had something to do with a feeling of belonging. She realized it hadn't been a personal thing. It was merely a matter of economics. They had too many girls on the payroll and she was one of the last ones hired. It sounded simple, but Martie still felt alone again. Well, at least there was Josh!
The corners of her mouth hinted at a smile as she approached the apartment door. Josh heard her footsteps in the hall. She braced herself. Josh, no matter how often she scolded, never failed to bowl her over with his canine enthusiasm. Perhaps he was the only living thing in the world who loved her. In the state home there had been too many unwanted children and not enough caring adults to go around.
She pushed the door open and gathered the furry bundle of effervescence into her arms. He met her with frantic tail and an unruly tongue as they tumbled about on the floor. "Okay, big boy, that's enough. I've got some bad news for you."
Martie got up and tossed her sweater onto the divan. It was hard to be upset with Josh around. His whole existence seemed to depend on making her laugh. He sat down at her feet, his tail thumping heavily on the floor and gave her a beseeching look.
She sighed and went to the refrigerator for a coke. "Well, ol' buddy, your means of bread and board is out of work! What do you think of that?"
Her mood changed and Josh seemed to sense it. He followed her around with his tail tucked between his legs where it always went when she was unhappy or serious. He was used to her horsing around and laughing.
Martie walked through the small apartment, stripping the rest of her outer garments and flopped across the bed, lamenting to a very attentive Josh about the injustices of modern society. He listened dutifully, carefully restraining himself. Being cooped up all day wasn't his idea of a dog's life, and he looked forward eagerly to their nightly outing. Well, there wouldn't be any outing or any supper either until she was talked out. He curled up beside her, enjoying the massaging movements of her fingers behind his ears while she talked on.
"You funny ol' dog ... you just sit there and let me beef it out, don't you? Well, to hell with it! Tomorrow will take care of itself. It always has!" She raised up on her elbow and gave him a playful push that sent him sprawling to the floor. "Do you want to go to The Cup?"
Josh frisked about the room joyfully as Martie reached into the closet and drawers for fresh clothes.
"Stop looking at me like that, Josh ... haven't you ever seen a naked girl before?" She laughed at the quizzical look on the big mongrel's face as she slipped into her panties. Even when he was a puppy he had worn that astonished look of shocked modesty whenever she dressed or undressed in front of him.
The Cup was a little coffee house a few blocks from the apartment. She and Josh found it one night while they were taking a walk and it had become a second home to them. She liked the strange music and the way no one asked a lot of superfluous questions. She had been accepted quickly by the group and Josh was like a mascot to the place, even though there was a law against animals in such establishments.
Martie walked through the dimly lit room, squeezing between the crowded tables with Josh close on her heels. Several people raised their hands in silent greeting as she made her way to Mary's table. Ordinarily, there would have been a variety of welcoming ejaculations but a set was in process and according to coffee house etiquette, the audience remained quiet and attentive.
She found a chair and squeezed it between Tod and Mary's. Tod filled a cup from the ancient pot in the center of the table and winked at her as he shoved it her way. She nodded a thanks and turned to watch the girl on stage.
She was one of the regular talents and Martie settled back to listen to the familiar, low, trembly voice.
The set ended and the conversation at the table took up where they left off before Martie had arrived. She was a little surprised to find the topic was sex. Usually the group was picking apart politics or hashing over some obscure, religious beliefs. Her eyes met Tod's over the rim of her cup and the strange uneasiness descended upon her. It seemed to be a perpetual feeling. Every time she thought someone was pushing a relationship past the bounds of friendship she panicked, and she didn't know why. She wanted a boy friend ... that much was true but she just couldn't bring herself to that point. She looked around at the other faces at the table. They were all caught up in Mary's declarations and Martie wished she hadn't missed the beginning of the discussion.
"Well, I don't care what the moral issue is," Mary continued, "sex is sex and you either like it or you don't! Besides, I heard black was good!" She ended her little speech with a touch that was supposed to resemble humor and take the edge off the heated tones of the rest of what she said.
No one said much after that. Another singer was mounting the platform and everyone seemed glad to have the topic end.
The table next to them was surrounded by a mixed group of black and white, and Martie noticed a few faces among them that she hadn't seen before.
Her eyes kept drifting to the face of one of the Negro men. He was well over the middle mark of his twenties, but he still had a sort of boyish look about him. Tod looked more than a little concerned over Mary's last remark and he, too, kept looking in that direction. Martie cast a quick glance at the Negro to see if he had heard it. The look on his handsome, dark face said, in a very frightening way, that he had! For the first time in her life, Martie felt the sting of racism! The hate in his eyes was a blazing proclamation of how he felt about whites, and he was directing that hate at her! Did he think it had been her making the remark?
Long after the black man left, she couldn't get that look out of her mind. It was almost as if he was warning her! Chills ran the course of her spine as she tried to forget it and enjoy the evening, but it was useless.
She searched the room for Paul, dismayed that he wasn't there. He lived in her direction and often they walked home together. There wasn't anything romantic between them but she felt better when he was around. The streets in Haight-Ashbury weren't always the most pleasant late at night.
Martie looked down at Josh thoughtfully. Well, at least she wasn't entirely alone. Surely he would raise hell with anyone giving her any trouble.
The crowd dispersed outside the door of the coffee house and Martie wished she wasn't such a chicken. There were always offers to go to someone's pad but that usually led to a pot party or something stronger, and she hadn't gone that far yet.
Steece stood in the shadows of the buildings a few doors down from The Cup and waited. No white bitch was going to make a remark like that and get away with it ... not while he was around! It pissed him off the way the others at his table had let the buzzing conversation next to them go on without comment. He knew it would be like that! They weren't equals! They just took the guff and pretended they were! Bunch of phony, black bastards! It wasn't that way in his neighborhood! If that had happened down there, there wouldn't be a white left standing! Well, she had made her last idle remark about the virility of the Negro male! He'd see to that!
Tailing her was easy, even with that mongrel trotting along beside her, and Steece kept enough distance between them that she wouldn't suspect the shadowing.
Martie walked quickly, her eyes straight ahead, her steps in tune to the pounding of her heart. If she could just get him out of her mind! She could still feel the depth of his hate!
It was hot and sticky. Even Josh seemed in a hurry to get off the streets. A cool rush of air met them at the apartment due to the little second-hand room air-conditioner Martie had purchased on one of her shopping sprees at the thrift store.
After double-checking the lock, she sank gratefully onto the divan and decided her fear had been a nutty thing. She was home and safe! She rough-housed with Josh a few minutes, then went into the kitchen to get him something to eat. "Here you go, fella, enjoy it. We're unemployed you know!"
Josh descended upon the mixture of canned meat and dog chow while Martie showered.
Drying in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, Martie tried to evaluate her assets. Maybe she would look for a modeling job this time. Judging from the number of passes and wolf-whistles, she shouldn't have much trouble convincing an agent of her talents ... if she just knew an agent and if she just knew what else a model had to have besides a good figure! The reflection smiled back at her thoughts. She was small, barely five-feet-three, and very fair. Even her flaxen-colored hair had flaxen-colored roots. The dainty patch of soft, pubic hair went the last step in testifying that she was authentically blonde. The only dark focal points on her body were her deep, blue eyes and the darkening of pink at the tips of her finely sculptured breasts.
She turned away from the mirror to hang up the towel. It always seemed a wonder to her that she was still a virgin. Some of the kids at the home tried to put the make on her, telling her that she might as well take love any way she could get it, but she always managed to break away from their kisses before things went too far. The home was strict but there was no consistency in the discipline or at least not enough to erase the opportunities. And there were no puritan influences guarding her behavior.
She thought back to one of the first conversations she heard at The Cup and wondered if perhaps that wasn't the way she felt, secretly, all her life.
The group had been rapping on love, the concept and practice of the word and what it meant to different people. It seemed they all had an idea of their own about it but what it boiled down to, in Martie's mind anyhow, were a few simple facts. If a guy and a girl liked each other, really dug each other's company, if each could see into the other one's mind and heart a little and throw some light in a few of the dark corners, well then, whatever happened was just part of that feeling of communication sometimes referred to as love. It wasn't sensationalism or rebellion against a closed society; it was just life. Maybe it stuck in her mind like that because that was what she had wanted to believe all her life. Maybe that was why none of the guys in the home could get to her ... she just didn't feel anything for them. Nothing! Nothing, and there had to be something!
Steece waited outside the building and watched the windows closely, almost breathlessly. His mind was totaling with his plans. He took a careful mental note of the location of the light that went on shortly after she entered the building. It had to be hers! If worse came to worse, he would walk into that place and snatch her out but that wasn't his original idea. Anyone that had a dog, had to walk that dog and the last walk of the day took place late at night before the person went to bed.
His roommates listened as he related the evening, shaking their heads with disgust for the blacks that had talked Steece into going to The Cup. Hell, he should have known they were phonies! What had he expected?
"Never mind what I expected, you black mother! You listen here!" He went on to give them a physical description of the girl his hate was centered upon and one of them furrowed his brow. Suddenly, he knew Steece was serious! He had heard him rave before but never like this!
"What do you mean, you followed her home? What the hell did you do that for? You going to fool around and get your black ass in trouble over there if you're not careful!"
Steece jumped up and shook his fist in Carver's face. "I'm telling you, Carver, I mean it! I'm going to catch that bitch and bring her here! I'll teach her to talk with a little respect when she's talking about black meat!"
"Yeah ... yeah...." came a softly spoken reply from the young Negro on the bed. His eyes were half-shut, still tripping from his last three pills. Steece turned on him.
"You're with me, aren't you Richie? You'd like to sink your big, black prick into her, wouldn't you?" Steece's face broke into an ugly grin. He crossed the small, foul-smelling room and sat on the edge of the bed. "You ever had a slice of white meat, boy? I bet you ain't never even got near one!" His eyes rolled back and forth as he thought of the time he and a couple of his buddies mingled sexually at a black and white party. Black hammers were nothing new to those girls, but it had been the first time Steece ever touched a white woman.
Even then he performed with hate, but he remembered every intimate detail of the white body he ravaged.
Richie raised up and pulled his knees up to lean on them. "You really going to do it, Steece? You really going to bring her here?" He was quiet a moment in thought. "God! I'd sure like to stab her!"
"Well, you going to stab her, Richie boy, you going to stab her good! We all are!"
Carver's arguments wore thin as the idea became more and more appealing to him. And Steece was right ... she needed some manners taught her!
They plotted out the abduction and went on to figure the details of her education, once they got her to the pad. It was a good setup. They were holed up in a third-story flat of a condemned building. No one else lived near enough to hear anything that went on. Let the bitch scream her head off!
CHAPTER TWO
There hadn't been time to run or cry for help. Martie struggled against Steece's grabbing hands. She was in the back seat of a car, speeding across town while Josh yelped helplessly in Richie's arms. Her heart was pounding against her ribs. She knew the moment she saw him there in the shadows that she would be made to pay for that remark Mary made at The Cup! He wasn't going to give her a chance to tell him that it wasn't her! Her ears roared with his curses and Josh's barking as he pushed her down to the seat.
Her skirt slipped up past her thighs as his hands tore at the flimsy silk panties, ripping them away easily. She screamed but he didn't hear her. She tore at his flesh with her nails but he didn't feel it. Only his hands were alive as his finger snaked into the most intimate part of her being. He crawled over her, holding her back as she tried to slip out from under him to the floorboard. His big, dark body moved in between her legs and her screams were muffled against his palm as his hard-packed hammer nudged against the virgin lips of her cunt.
Martie dared open her eyes in the anguished torment of the moment. He stared back into her face, the hate as vivid as it had been the night she first saw him, but it was muddied by another, more intense, current of emotion ... lust!
That one, instantaneous meeting of their eyes told Martie more than a volume of words. He meant to take her! Nothing she could do or say would matter! A convulsive shudder lapped over her body like a gigantic wave. She could still hear Josh barking, but suddenly he was a million miles away. There was no one left in the world except herself and the hate-tormented creature looming above her!
"Goddamn it, Steece! Stop it back there! You want the law down on us? Stick to the plan, man, remember? You going to get yours!"
Steece froze, then began pawing at her breasts. Crazy thoughts ran through her mind about how she was a virgin and how she had waited so long for the right guy to come along. "Oh, why, why, why?" she cried aloud, hardly realizing she was speaking.
"You got some nerve, asking why!" Steece growled, relinquishing his position and straightening up in the seat. "You know why as well as I do! You think you can run loose making smart talk about blacks?" He jerked her up close to his face and snarled at her menacingly. "No, baby! You ain't ever going to talk like that again ... never! You heard black was good? Now you're going to find out firsthand!" He shoved her back against the seat, pressing her hard against the corner while his free hand roamed crudely over her exposed slit.
"Please," she begged, feeling the helplessness of her efforts.
His dark, fathomless, hate-filled eyes glared down at her. "Please, huh? That's a word more whites should learn how to use, bitch!" The buttons of her blouse gave way under the quick, clawing motion of his hand. He reached to snatch away the dainty bra that brought the ripe depth of her cleavage to view.
"You're crazy! You can't do this! You know they'll be out looking for me! Stop! Stop!" Martie kept trying even though the hands were crawling everywhere at once. She felt herself sliding down onto the seat again and fought to regain her position. He wouldn't stop again if he got her down. She knew that! Nothing the others could say would save her!
"Don't you ever call me crazy again! I know exactly what I'm doing, and you will, too, before this is over! You'll be calling me a lot of things but none of them will be 'crazy'! No, bitch ... you'll be begging for black cock before we're through with you!"
Martie's head reeled with the thought of what he meant. And Josh! Poor Josh! He was still yipping and trying his damnedest to go to her defense.
She thought of all the love she stored up over the years and how she had heaped it all on Josh. Suddenly her mind went wild just thinking about something happening to him. He was her whole world! Blackness crept over her.
Carver wheeled the car cautiously through the dark streets. It wouldn't do to get stopped for a minor violation right now. Not with that heap of trouble in the back seat! They'd be up the river for more years than they could count!
"Hurry it up, man!" Steece panted from the rear. "I can't wait all night to sink this rock!"
"Take it easy ... you said we're going to keep her until we're tired of her, didn't you? You got lots of time!"
Richie felt a little reprieve when Martie blacked out. Her silence seemed to silence Josh, and for the first time since they snatched her he had a moment to think about what was going on.
"You going to let me at her tonight, too, Steece? I never had a white cunt before, remember?" His sniffling voice irritated Steece.
"Man, I don't even know if you got enough cock to give her a tickle. Did you get that rope and those other things I sent you after today?"
Richie nodded and spent the rest of the trip pouting about Steece's remark. He'd show him! He'd show him he wasn't the only one in town with a long jack!
Steece walked around the bed, giving orders and checking the knots the other two were securing at Martie's wrists and ankles. After the fight she put up just getting her up to the flat, he wasn't taking any chances! He smiled wickedly, remembering the feel of her white flesh in his hands while they undressed her. The little knock Carver had given her head was the smartest thing they could have done, he decided now that the fright was gone. Her pulse was good and her breathing was regular. Carver said the only reason she was still out was because she was afraid to come out of it. Afraid of what was waiting for her!
Steece stood at the foot of the bed and stared down into the inviting folds of her pink and white slit. The white! That was the part that excited him! How he had waited, maybe all his life, for a chance to even the score a little, even if it was only in this small way! The night he heard the conversation at The Cup wasn't the first time he had ever heard that kind of talk. All his life he had had to listen to derogatory remarks; remarks directed at the proficiency of black men in such things as dancing and fucking. Well, black men were more than that ... yeah, a lot more! They had hearts and love and compassion and talent. But, maybe not in his lifetime. Maybe they wouldn't get to prove it in his lifetime. Maybe he would just have to settle for justifying one thing at a time and screwing this white bitch crazy was one thing he wouldn't mind settling for!
"I'm going to fuck her awake ... you guys want to watch?" His trousers dropped to the floor as he spoke and Richie whistled in admiration as Steece's long, black lance whipped out of the confines of the coarse, denim material.
"You mean you're just going to crawl on and do it, man? You ain't even going to wait until she wakes up?" He shook his head at the very idea.
"She'll wake up soon enough," Steece chortled, getting onto the bed beside her. He steadied his cock in his hand and used the other one to feel the perfection of her gleaming white globes. The stage had been carefully set and Steece looked around, proud of his ideas. There was only one light in the room and it hung from a dirty cord, directly over the center of the bed, illuminating every lovely curve and nook of her helpless body.
Carver, most of his cool gone now that she was safely in their keeping, walked over and leaned against the wall and watched the big, naked, black man on the bed. He was crazy all right, but it was the same kind of craziness all black men felt when they saw a white woman. What in the hell was so different about them except their color made them taboo? He felt the rising of his own flag as Steece placed himself in the enviable position between Martie's legs. He raised up high on his knees and let out a loud, lusty moan before falling upon the unsuspecting prey beneath him.
Martie woke up screaming before she really even realized what was going on. She saw him fall across her body, his own body glistening with sweat. There was no pain of penetration. There was nothing but the crushing weight of him against her bare flesh. Automatically, her limbs jerked to protect herself but the ropes bit into her skin and another scream escaped her lips before the thick lips of her tormentor came down over her mouth. His tongue darted deeply, probing for hers, demanding. His hands groped between them until each cupped a breast firmly and cruelly within it. "Aaaah, you got good tits, Whitey ... fact, you got a good body all over! You ever been fucked, Whitey ... I mean really fucked?"
"Oh!" she gasped. "Oooh, God, stop it!" His mouth closed off the rest of her pleas.
Carver crossed the room, his hand reaching into his unzipped fly. "Hurry, man! I got to have some of that, too!" He stood close to the bed, his mouth watering with envy.
"What do you mean, hurry! I haven't even begun!" Steece roared, raising back away from Martie's trembling body. He grasped his prick in both hands, squeezing and rotating it in a taunting manner, calculated to make the frightened girl even more afraid. Her eyes were like dark, burning holes in her head contrasting against the flushed flesh of her cheeks.
Carver reached for one of her tits, unable to restrain himself from the desire to touch her. They seemed to defy all the laws of gravity as they rose and fell with her sobbing breaths. "Jesus! Look at those knocks! Looks like her mammy put plenty of starch in them!"
"Get your goddamn hands off until I'm through. She's mine, remember? She's my idea and I'll say when!" Steece lunged forward to knock Carver's invading hand away. His hard prick came pressing down on the tender flesh of her thigh, peeling some of the foreskin back in the motion. The quick, unexpected sensation brought a groan of pleasure from Steecy's lips. "Get out! Get out of here. I want to be alone with her!" He motioned the other two to the door with a wave of his arm.
"No! No, don't leave! Don't let him do this!" Martie begged, hoping that somewhere between the three of them there was at least one shred of decency.
Steece's fist slammed down into the soft mound of her belly. "Shut your fucking mouth! I give the orders around here! Get out!"
Carver and Richie left reluctantly but stationed themselves right outside the door. Hearing it wasn't as good as seeing it, but it beat nothing at all. Both of them had a heavy hand on their pricks as they leaned close to the door.
Martie made a violent attempt to free herself while Steece, still in a kneeling position between her spreadeagled thighs, laughed down at her. "Try all you want. The more you move, the more I'll enjoy it!" His big, dark fingers reached down and pulled the outer lips of her cunt apart without a hint of gentleness. He wiggled one of his fingers to the opening and felt around a moment, then jabbed it in ruthlessly. A gasping sob tore from Martie's throat as all motion came to an agonizing standstill. Her body refused to obey her impulses for escape. His looming image swam before her eyes as the finger probed and jerked inside the tender passageway.
"Hey bitch ... I think you're cherry! You are cherry! I'll be a son-of-a-bitch!" He withdrew his hand quickly and grabbed his prick, guiding it directly to the vacated slit.
Martie's pleas and sounds of torment went unnoticed as the black bore down on her, crushing her into the filthy mattress. His hard-knobbed prick was nestled just inside the little hole. "Get ready, Whitey, here it comes!" He shoved all the way through to her womb, ripping the sensitive inner flesh in his savage cruelty.
She moaned as the pain shot through every nerve of her body, and then she fainted.
Steece recovered from the wonder of his own joyous pleasure and looked into her lifeless face. It wouldn't do to have her out while he put it to her. No, he wanted her to know all of the humiliation, all of the agonies ... he wanted her to be fully aware of her own degradation the way he had been all his life! He painfully withdrew his pulsing rod and hunched over her body, licking the spongy tits and inhaling her white odors. His cock begged to go back to the depths of her cove, but he ignored the need. His hands crept over every lovely surface offered from her position and slowly, she began to stir under his touch. He kept it up, the teasing, the daring until she was fully awake again. Her first impulse was to scream, but nothing save a look of horror passed over her face. Her eyes burned with the shame of being laid out so helplessly. No fear, in dreams or reality had ever measured up to what was happening to her now. She was frantic in her anxiety.
"Look at my prick, baby! Goddamn you, I said look at it!" His hand glanced off her cheek and Martie's eyes bulged with the pain and the order. She stared at the long, hard organ poking out from the tight, kinky patch of hair.
"You get used to seeing it cause you'll soon be crying for it! Yeah, you'll be wanting it day and night!" He came down over her again, this time holding the head of his rod right at the top of her slit and rubbing against it. Her body shuddered.
She felt his hands crunching into her chest as his fingers gripped her tits, pinching and kneading. He let his dick slip loose between them but she could feel it nuzzling the inner skin of her fleshy folds. She knew the warm, sticky moisture she felt was her own blood. Her virginal blood! Hot tears flooded down her cheeks as the black man over her continued his game of touch and feel. His face was only inches from hers. She could count the beads of perspiration on his forehead and smell the foulness of his breath.
Suddenly, he was up on his knees again, stripping his prick quickly as he brought it down to fill her gaping cunt. The impact made her gasp before the pain slithered through her again, this time worse than the first time. This time, he wasn't going to stop and this time the blessed relief of unconsciousness would not save her. His strong, muscular body hammered into her again and again, each time reaching for depths not achieved the time before. Her eyes rolled back with pain and anguish. She wished death would free her.
CHAPTER THREE
Martie was nearly lost to unconsciousness by the time Steece slumped off her ravaged body and called the other two in to claim their rewards. She tried to raise her voice in protest as Carver approached the bed, his hard cock in his hand, but she was too weak.
He looked inquiringly at the small pool of blood beneath her on the mattress and then at Steece.
"Yeah, man ... a virgin! God, what a hot bitch she's going to be!" Steece's goading amused Carver. He was obviously too spent to call up another erection or he never would have relinquished such a prize.
Martie followed the older Negro man with her eyes as he neared the bed and stared back down at her. There was nothing left in her expression but sheer horror as he threw a leg over her chest and straddled her breasts. The bite of his bony ass against her ribs brought a cry of pain from he swollen, bloodied lips but no words of protest. He slid upward until the vile stench from his organ reached her nostrils. They flared as she twisted her head frantically from one side to the other to avoid contact with the filthy thing.
"That ain't going to do nothing for you but wear you out, white trash, cause you're going to suck it if I have to sit here all night!" Her eyes widened in shock. Even Steece, as bad as he had been, hadn't thought of that!
Oh, my God! No! They can't do this to me! They can't make me do this! Oh, please, God, please! The need to vomit rose in her throat and she struggled to keep it down.
He backed down from her throbbing breasts, laughing, and with no more warning than that, he spread her cove apart and rammed into it with all his might. The numbness that had set in after the fucking Steece had given her was wearing thin and the harshness of the new thrust sent her into a spasm of painful shudders.
Richie's lewd remarks from the sidelines pierced her ears as Carver bucked into her relentlessly. His own young, inexperienced dick was rolling between his fingers in a frantic attempt to keep up with the movements of the big buck on top of the writhing, moaning, white girl.
Martie cast him a pain-glazed look that he immediately mistook for lust.
"She likes it, Carver! Fuck her, man, fuck her!" His excitement lent motive for Carver's exaggerated pitch as he rode to glory in one last, triumphant thrust.
Fucking in front of an enthusiastic audience had always been one of his favorite bags. In his younger days, no one could outlast him or outfuck him! The black bitches followed him through the streets, begging him to lay it to them. He felt like that again now. He felt like he could fuck the white bitch into eternity without stopping. It didn't matter that she wasn't responding! Nothing mattered except the delicious pressure her little cunt muscles were giving his slickened cock!
"What do you think of black meat now, you pale slut?" he hissed, finally able to raise his exhausted body away from hers.
I have to take this. There is nothing I can do but I don't have to talk to them. They can't force me to talk! Martie turned her head away, her eyes closed so tightly they were only shadowed slits.
"Hmmmp! Still uppity, huh? Well, you won't be so goddamn high and mighty when we're through with you!" He turned. Richie was so close he almost caught him in the gut with his elbow. "You want to go at this dirty little bitch, Richie? Think you could make her howl a little for us, huh?"
The boy's face lit up with anticipation as Carver gave up his place and made room for Richie to move in.
Her arms and legs ached from the strained position and the deep cuts of the rope. I can't take it again. I know I can't. Let me die, God. Oh, let me die.
Richie descended upon her like a young animal. There was no preliminary talk, no warmup, nothing but the short, jabbing probes, but his dick was as hard and outrageous in size as the others. Bits of beseeching jargon broke through her tortured sobs but Richie screwed on heedlessly. It was perhaps his greatest moment! Something he could brag up to the other punks. His inexperience was his downfall. He couldn't control the marvelous hunger to spew his cum deep into her gleaming white body. Hoarse, lusty sounds escaped his lips as he felt his life's juices flooding away from him. He collapsed, heaving heavily on top of her, ashamed at his lack of control, proud of the great showing he made even though it wasn't very long.
"Come on, Richie, come on, boy ... that's enough for tonight. She's not fun any more." Steece was on his feet staring down at the two bodies, one so white, the other so very black. The meeting of the two races. It was a beautiful sight! His own lust was creeping back into his groin. He wanted the other two out. Out of the room, out for the night. He didn't care. He just wanted to be alone with her. To watch her. To humiliate her with words.
"Go untie that mutt and let it take a piss, then go to the store and buy something to feed it. Buy doubles. She and the dog will eat alike! Don't come back in here until morning." His voice was steady but he knew if they didn't hurry to obey him, his weakness would show. Already he could feel the trembling beginning in his legs.
Carver frowned at Steece's command. "I wanted her to suck me off, remember? You heard me tell her so. What's the hurry about ending it tonight anyhow?"
"I'm not ending it, I'm prolonging it. I don't fancy the idea of screwing a dead bitch, do you?"
He hoped he sounded convincing. It was only right that he should have her first at everything, but the others might not agree with him and the last thing he needed in the world was any discord among them. They couldn't afford any trouble, especially not this kind!
Carver and Richie slumped out, but not without one last, longing look at the panting, sobbing girl on the bed.
Steece listened until their footsteps died away. If they went to the store like he told them to, they wouldn't be back for a few hours. It was like that down on the street. Always someone to talk to, shoot the shit with. He circled the bed a few times, then walked to the door and locked it.
Martie refused to open her eyes, even when she felt the mattress sag from his weight. Let him do whatever he was going to. There wasn't any way she could stop him. She wasn't prepared for what he had in mind though, and when his big hand came down over her breast she didn't move.
"I'm going to teach you what making love is really about, then I'm going to laugh in your face every time you beg for it."
She looked up, startled at the change in his tone of voice. There was almost a tenderness there, but she knew instinctively that it was not a true tenderness. She feared him more now than she had when he was ranting at her and shouting vulgarities.
"You feel my big, black hand touching those pearly tits of yours? Hmmmm ... doesn't that feel fine?" His fingers worked gently around her nipples, plying them into tiny buds. Martie sucked in her breath and waited for him to change back into the madman he had been before. But he didn't. He lowered his warm mouth over one nipple and began an easy, sucking motion that brought pinpricks of sensation to her tormented mind.
Oh, God! What is he doing to me? Have I gone mad? Does that really feel that way or am I dreaming?
"If you weren't all tied up, you'd be reaching for my prick, crying for it right now, wouldn't you?" He laughed at the look of hate she shot him as she turned her head.
Never! I'll never be so bad that I'll beg for him!
He stopped the sucking and massaging and sat up beside her. His fingers darted out and separated her cunt, spreading it wide as he peered into it. "You pretty tore up. I think I'll wait a few days before I give you the full treatment. I want you to digit."
She didn't know what he meant and didn't care. The pain between her legs was almost unbearable. There were times she felt only numbness but then that faded and the sharp, ragged edges of physical agony burned through her again. Even the touch of his fingers, gentle now as he opened her wider, was like a flaming army of torches being set off against her intimate flesh.
"It will heal ... yeah, baby, it'll heal. I'll help it heal." He dropped his head down to the parting valley between his fingers and slipped his tongue around her wounds lightly.
Her body tensed. He was a madman! She fought against the rising tingling beginning in her nipples and running the length of her tortured body. Her senses screamed within her that it was horrible! Vile! Her senses kept screaming but her body closed its ears. The touch was so gentle, so soothing ... so different!
His hand worked methodically at all the other sensitive areas while the tongue pressed deeper and deeper into the reddened slit, bathing it in warm saliva, massaging the little ravaged organ until she felt it grow hard and ultra-sensitive. The extreme fatigue, mental and physical, cried out for her to relax and let him put her in some kind of limbo but all the morality she had ever known battled with her desires. Suddenly she jerked her buttocks causing his tongue to slide from its nest and slither over the top of her thigh. "Why you fighting me, slut? You know you like that. You're just like any other cunt. You like having company for supper so long as you can do the serving! Let's see how well you like being served!" Steece raised his heavy frame and crawled up to the top of the bed. The bright, uncovered bulb hanging above emitted enough heat to bring out the perspiration all over his body. She could see the shiny wetness of his immense cock as he placed himself above her on all fours.
Her eyes closed as she jerked her head as far to the side as she could. He was going to do what the other one had only talked of doing! The tingling that had just swum through her body moments earlier, turned back to shivering darts of fear.
Steece's lips curled back sneeringly. He grabbed her head between both hands and shoved it violently in place to take his shaft. His cruel laughter echoed in her ears as he held her tightly to the position with one forceful hand on her forehead. With the other, he led his eager prick in a blazing pattern back and forth over her lips, each time exerting a little more pressure, forcing them open just a little.
Shame fell over her like it never had before. The horrible position of her body, every thin line of pleasure exposed, and now this filthy pig sitting on her chest with every intention in the world of making her take his loathsome organ into her mouth!
He came back off his hands to get more pushing power from his powerful thighs and rammed the bulbous head between her lips. Her teeth were clenched tightly but a sharp slap brought her jaws apart in a vain effort to cry out. It popped into the warmth of her mouth, foul-smelling and foul-tasting. Martie gagged but the vomit rose and bubbled around the invading member. It drooled out of the corners of her mouth but Steece remained fast where he was, enjoying her helplessness and humiliation.
"You better swallow it back, bitch, before I shove it back!" He didn't wait for her to comprehend. His body lunged forward and sent inches of his black meat into the sputtering orifice. He was still pumping into her when the blackness swam around her again. She could feel it coming and opened the arms of her soul to embrace it. Steece was too far along the path of passion to let her condition stop him now. He pulled it out to the tip, shuddered his delight and rammed deep, spurting his stored-up juices down into her belly.
He fell forward over her face in an exhausted sleep, not even bothering to take his limpness from her gaping mouth.
The blackness came this time without the sweet relief of nothingness. As she swam deeper and deeper into its thickness, her nightmares became more horrid and vivid. She was running naked around a room with black walls and a black ceiling and a black mattress in the middle of the floor. Her body was startlingly white except for the arrows. There were carefully painted arrows all over her and they were painted with thick, black paint. But the arrows were thin lined. They surrounded her mouth, all pointing inward and her breasts, all pointing to the pink nipples in the center. There was a long arrow running from her navel, pointing downward to her intimate region and several more on her thighs, pointing upward at a slant to the same region. Her fingers had become arrow-headed at the tips and they worked with the painted arrows to show the way to her sensual parts. She seemed to be running ... or was she dancing? Yes, yes, it was a dance! A lewd, seductive dance but there were no viewers in the room! No one but her and the blackness and the arrows, and yet she knew she was watched. She could feel eyes creeping all over her body and the feeling of them was driving her crazy with wanton emotions. Her mouth felt stretched and tight and she realized it was from her own agonizing screams ... screams for sexual attentions!
There seemed to be no doors or windows into the room but she didn't care! She didn't want out! She wanted man! MAN! The dance went on, each movement more tantalizing to the eyes she couldn't see but could feel. Every motion was calculated for an end and in the fever of the dance, it was obvious that she knew and needed that end! Her body contorted and slithered onto the floor, arrow-tipped fingers reaching deep into her own cunt and humping for the satisfaction she knew they would not bring. A music that had gathered from the blackness without her awareness, pounded in her ears as she prostrated herself on the mattress.
Panting and winded, she turned slowly to her back and stared at the ceiling and through the mist, a large, jet-black cock emerged, detached from anything but making its way, with tormenting slowness, to the depth of her being. Her legs splayed apart as her ass arched upward to meet it. She groaned loudly as the cock lost itself within her and wormed through all her female parts with precision. Another cock appeared and another until they were filling her without a pause between and all the while, she was crying for more ... more ... more!
Her cunt was filled but still they came. They dove into the welcoming heat of her mouth to be devoured and played crazily between her huge breasts.
Martie woke screaming, casting out the limp prick with her first mournful howl. Steece started and jerked away from her, rolling over to the side of the bed. Her eyes were still closed but she was conscious, of that he was sure! He watched her face pale, as awareness came back to her, and he smiled with satisfaction. She was now learning what torment was! She was now getting a taste of what it was like to be the trampled one! He got off the bed and checked the ropes again before leaving the room. They were tight. She wouldn't be going anywhere for a while!
CHAPTER FOUR
"You stink! God, oh, Lordy, how you stink! Even that goddamn mutt of yours wouldn't get close to you the way you smell!" Steece talked while he and Carver loosened the bonds. For the first time since she had been brought here out of the car, Martie thought about Josh.
She was suddenly ashamed of herself for not worrying about it before. She didn't even know whether he was alive or not! How could she have been so wrapped up in herself and the horrible things happening to have forgotten, so completely, about her beloved, canine friend?
Steece noticed the spark of interest gleaming in her eyes at the mention of the dog. It was time to put his plan into reality and see how well it worked.
"Yeah, we kept the bastard, fleas and all! It seemed like a good idea to have him around, you know. Maybe you'll be more cooperative when you know that his life depends upon how you act." Her arms and legs were free now but she made no move to get up. She watched his face as he sat down on the mattress beside her and went on talking about Josh. What did he mean, Josh's life would depend upon her?
"It kind of amounts to the same thing your proud, white race has put my proud, black race down to. You know, the old bit about if you want something you love to survive, you'll go down under the commands and humiliations of the society you live in. Well, I've lived under the cords of your society too long! I've watched too many of my kind hit the dirt because of this superiority bit. You're in our society now!"
His hands reached out and pawed her bruised breasts. She recoiled instantly, without thinking what reward the act would bring. The sharp, smacking blow to the side of her head served as a reminder.
"Like I was saying, white trash, you're in our society now! You'll be doing the bending and the scraping! And you will, if you love that mongrel of yours! If you love him one portion of the way a black man loves his family, you'll take all you must take to protect him!" He turned to Carver. "Bring the dog in ... let her see how alive he is."
Carver's mouth twisted in an ugly smile as he silently admired his comrade's irony. He was back shortly with a very bedraggled-looking Josh. They had muzzled him, probably for reasons that Martie could well imagine, and he walked along, begrudgingly at the end of a rope leash.
The scent of his mistress sent him into a frenzy of movements. Martie's eyes burned with tears at seeing him. Her arms reached out automatically but just as Josh made a leap for the bed, Steece's foot reached out with a sickening kick. Josh yelped and tumbled to the floor, whining pitifully.
Carver grabbed the rope and gave it a hard jerk as he attempted to mount the bed again and once more, Martie let out an anguished gasp to match Josh's as the rope tightened around his throat, cutting off his air.
"NO! NO! Let him alone! He didn't do anything to you! Stop it, ohhhh, stop it!" Martie was sitting straight up, unmindful of the pain rolling in every muscle of her body. "Stay, Josh, stay! Don't move!"
He sat still but the whinning continued as he looked at her through pain-filled eyes.
"Would you like to see him have something to eat?" Steece asked harshly. "He hasn't eaten since he got here, you know."
Martie raised her eyes to meet his, wondering where the load was in that sentence. "He must eat! He'll die. You must feed him!"
"We're going to feed him. We aren't quite as callous as our pale brothers. As soon as we get you cleaned up, you'll both eat ... raw horsemeat!"
Her eyes widened. Raw horsemeat? She couldn't eat that! He seemed to read her thoughts. "You'll eat it if you want that beast to eat. He doesn't get his until you've finished yours!" Pulling his hands away from her belly where they had been resting, he got up and beckoned Carver. "Let's get her to the tub. I can't stand a stinking bitch! Do you know how to give douches, Carver? I think she should have a douche, don't you? I saw my old lady taking one once. She sprawled out in the bathtub and rammed some sort of hose up her twat!"
They carried her and dragged her down the hall and down to the second story of the old building to the only bathroom still halfway intact. There was no hot water but Richie had filled the tub with cold water and stood by waiting to see the look on her face when the other two dumped her into it.
Josh followed slowly, several safe paces behind the men. He seemed to sense that it was not the right time to try to protect her. There were too many of them and he was too weak from lack of nourishment to make any kind of a showing. Every now and then, a soft cry came from his throat and each time, it was like a knife twisting into Martie's gut. She couldn't bear to think of him being starved or hurt.
The water was a shock to her battered body but she clamped her teeth down hard and refused to cry out. She had to take whatever they dished out for Josh's sake, if not her own. Hot water would have felt so good, so healing to the aching, tormented parts of her.
"Steece, man, let's fuck her now. She can eat later. My prick can't get the feel of her loose from it!" Carver leaned over the tub and rammed his hand between her thighs, trying to get to the meaty flesh of her wet cunt.
"One thing at a time, Carver, old boy! You got to douche her, remember? We don't want to fool around with her and get some white disease!" He threw back his handsome head and guffawed, the other joining him.
"Richie, did you find some hose somewhere like I told you to?" Ritch pointed to the filthy piece of garden hose coiled up on the floor beside the toilet. Steece picked it up and measured it for length from the faucet to the middle of the tub, grinning evilly as his hand brushed one of Martie's tits.
Carver bent over and searched for the plug chain and released the water from the tub. "I ain't never gave a bitch a douche with anything except this!" he said, patting the bulge in his trousers lovingly.
"Hold that dog, Richie. She'll probably scream her ass off and he might try to play hero!" He squatted on the floor beside the tub and reached over, pinning both Martie's shoulders against the hard porcelain. Carver climbed right in with her as soon as the last of the water trickled away down the drain and straddled her belly, his back to her face. Holding the hose to the faucets and directing the other end into her squirming cunt, was no easy matter but he did the chore with gusto. The edges were jagged and Martie grunted with the pain as he shoved it into her time and time again.
"How much douching does it take?" he asked finally after he was half-drenched himself and bored with the game.
"I don't know but that's enough for this time. She'll soon be stinking again anyhow!" Steece let go long enough to grip her under the arms and start tugging her upward. Carver slipped his arms beneath her thighs and lifted his wet half out as Steece steadied her. The fight was not yet gone, even though she was afraid for Josh whenever she moved against them. But she just couldn't stand having them all looking at her and clawing at her body. She tried not to think of the horsemeat. The idea of having to eat it, repulsed her.
Carver hefted her over his shoulder, her ass high and her head and shoulders slumping down his back. The sharp jam of his finger as it met the tight, sore slit caused her to scream out. Josh made another leap but Richie grabbed him back before he could bring his teeth in contact with Carver's calf.
"We ought to kill this bastard dog and have done with it!" he ejaculated angrily. "It's going to get one of us yet!"
"I told you not to take the muzzle off until we fed him, you dumb mother! Get it back on him and bring him and their breakfast up to the room." Steece walked ahead, looking back every step or so to gloat over her helplessness.
The halls echoed with her screams and threats, but neither of them paid any attention. No one could hear her, and even if they could they would just think some bitch was getting what she wanted and go on smiling down the street.
The mattress seemed to reach up and catch her as Carver dropped her over it. It was sticky and vile-smelling. The whole room carried that stench! Martie thought about having to eat and puked all over herself.
"Goddamn you! Get me a bucket, Carver. I'll teach her to dirty herself up after we just got her ready for playtime!" Carver reappeared within a matter of minutes carrying a bucketful of ice-cold water. Steece reached for it and emptied the contents in one gush down over Martie's head. She gasped for breath and flung herself down onto the pillows as though they were a refuge for her.
"Hey, lookie there! She can't wait to get fucked!"
Richie came in with Josh and a brown-wrapped package, grinning from ear to ear. "You really going to make her eat this shit, Steece?"
"No. She don't have to if she don't want to. If her dog can stand another day without food, it's all right with me." He unwrapped the raw meat and placed it in two equal piles on the floor.
"It's up to you, Whitey. Do you want your friend there to have a meal today?" He backed off and watched as she turned over and viewed the challenge. Josh, his nostrils trembling with the scent of meat, yipped hungrily behind the muzzle. His eyes darted from one to the other of the men and then to Martie as if waiting for her to tell him it was all right to have at it.
She moved slowly, partly out of the excruciating pain each movement brought her and partly out of reluctance to do what must be done. After all, it wasn't Josh's fault they were here and he had certainly made it plain that he would protect her if he only got a chance. This was the least she could do to return his loyalty and love. The floor was rough and splintered as she tried to scoot across. Her hands moved from one place on her body to the other, trying to hide it from the eyes of her audience.
"You going to eat dog's food, you walk like a dog! Quit scooting around on your beautiful ass! We don't want it all marred up! Get on all fours!"
Martie lowered her head, refusing to look into Steece's face for fear he would read the immense hatred and think of another torment to punish her for that hate. Rising to all fours was torturous, physically as well as emotionally, but she managed to crawl to the smaller of the two piles of horsemeat. Its red-bright color assured her it was fresh but that little fact didn't help her appetite.
"You got five minutes, bitch! Start in or forget it! We ain't wasting any time seeing to it that you two eat! None of your kind ever gave a damn if I ate or not!" From the corner of her eye, she could see him dropping his clothes to the floor. At least she could buy some time if she ate the vile stuff!
Josh was making hoarse, gagging sounds from straining at the rope to get at the food that probably looked quite delectable to him. Martie picked up a small morsel of it and crammed it into her mouth, swallowing without taking time to chew or taste. It stuck in her throat but she forced another morsel and another down on top of it until the little portion diminished to half its original size. "I can't ... can't eat any more ... I can't...."
"Well, that's too bad because Rover there doesn't get any of his until all of yours is gone and your time is up. Take him back out, Ritchie. Maybe she'll be able to finish it later."
She felt herself being lifted and tossed back onto the bed. Carver was ready to grab her wrists and secure them before she had much of a chance to fight. Her body trembled with anger. Poor Josh! They had no right to mistreat him! He was just an animal!
"Leave her ankles loose this time. I want to see if she is as cold as she would like us to believe."
Carver nodded and dropped the footboard ropes. He gave an inward sigh as he looked at the length and firmness of the pole sticking out in front of Steece. It would be a long time before he got to her today! Steece would have his fun first, of course, that was the plan. Unless? Unless Carver could talk him into some trio-type entertainment. He pulled Steece to the far corner of the room and whispered into his ear for a moment. Martie tried to hear what they were saying but the tones were too low. Steece scratched his ass and looked back at his whispering friend with a touch of curiosity. Carver spoke again and then a smile broke over his face. They approached the bed, one from each direction.
Martie's blood began to run cold through her veins as she perceived that they had something different in mind for her today. Her screams were muffled into the pillow as Carver pushed over her face right before he sat on it, his head facing the approach of his partner for the scene. Her legs kicked wildly as Steece forced himself between them and dropped his head to the furry little patch of blonde curls. Carver reached down and grabbed her legs, bringing them upward toward her shoulders. The position was beautiful for opening the hot nest to Steece's flaming tongue.
Martie fought wildly to get her head turned to the side before the weight of the man on the pillow suffocated her. She gasped in long, shuddering breaths of air but she couldn't try to move further. That soft, warm, bathing feeling was going through her cunt again. Oh, my God! If only he wouldn't do that! I must be bad inside to like that! That's something animals don't even do! And how can I think of him as an animal when this feeling of my own is so vile?How? Oh, why?
She hated the way her body reacted to this particular part of his cruelty. It was ludicrous! Her whole life was being ruined. Her body molested in ways she never thought possible, and she could lie there and feel her own muscles relax as he swiped her genitals with his vulgar tongue!
Carver was the first to be aware that her fighting had ceased. "Hey, man ... you must be doing something she likes! Why I bet I could quit holding her and she would shove it right up into your mouth!"
Even the terrible sting of truth to his words failed to give her strength to fight the soothing sensation that was quickly becoming another kind of sensation. The pressure of his grip around her legs relaxed a little but she made no move to change position, to force her assailant away. Hot tears streamed from her eyes as she began to question her sanity. Had they ruined more than her body? Had they sent her soul to the gutter too?
Steece slid one hand down to the growing, living monster between his legs as the other kept the way parted for his tongue. He could feel his body's heat centering itself in his shaft as his hand closed around it, tugging gently forward and pushing gently back.
Carver rose from the pillow and tossed it aside as he turned his position on her upper torso so that his wand projected over her face. He looked down at the hesitant look of ecstasy creeping over Martie's face right before she realized what he had in mind. Her lovely, pink lips were parted in a semi-smile revealing a row of small, straight, white teeth. He grabbed her head and guided his prick through the parting before she had time to protect herself. The sensation fled her vagina as the wretchedness of what Carver was doing descended upon her. His body smelled of several days' perspiration, layer upon layer as he moved in closer and again the nausea churned inside her. She couldn't stand to look at him! He was too hateful! His act was too evil! But even with her eyes closed, she imagined she could see the lecherous grin breaking over his rounded face and through his crooked teeth. She could almost visualize the way his tongue was working inside his mouth, accumulating excess saliva and pushing it out to the corners of his lips involuntarily. Nothing could blot out the strange, half-pleasure, half-pain sounds escaping from him as he ground deeper and deeper into her mouth.
She tried to concentrate on her hate for him.
She tried to think about poor Josh not getting any food because she couldn't cope with the bargain. She tried every power of thought she could think of to ignore the tantalizing movements and soft, flicking motions down below but Steece must have known he was affecting her. He must have known she was growing weaker against his relentless pursuit. Her ass was arching up to meet his attentions! It was just like Carver said! She rebelled against the very idea that they could know her better than she knew herself.
With one mighty effort, she lurched sideways, freeing herself from the hot, delicious presence of his tongue along her folds. She wouldn't give in to them! She wouldn't!
Steece clucked in mock disapproval of her move, but he didn't really care. He was tired with messing with her when she had another cock in her mouth. It would be a different thing if he had been riding her sixty-nine!
He prepared to plunge his dick into the mushy, warm cove his tongue had been forced to abandon. For a moment, he watched the muscles in Carver's back, moving with his lustful drives and decided he would wait until the other man felt his glory. He had never fucked a bitch while another rode her mouth and the idea wasn't appealing to him. He liked his meat to be his alone, at least at the time of taking. He let his fingers slide back down to the trembling cunt and tease her to distraction while Carver gathered his momentum for the finale. There was something exciting about watching a scene like this, he had to admit that much. Maybe Carver wasn't as crazy as everyone thought! He had heard the tales around the block about the weird parties and indulgences of his friend in past years, but until now, he hadn't fully understood what it was all about. If this was any indication of it, Steece was sorry he hadn't been around before.
He watched, mesmerized as the buck ahead of him tightened and thrust forward for the reward. His own muscles strained and he could almost feel part of Carver's relief as the black man slumped forward, gasping and panting.
"Get off, man! Quick! Get off and let me at her!" Steece panted his words haltingly. His breath was fast and short from the excitement of what he had seen.
Martie, too, was gasping, but not from pleasure. Cum dribbled out of the corners of her mouth as her tongue worked to clear the abominable fluid. Again, her eyes were wide open, staring forward with horror. She cursed herself silently for those brief moments of willful submission, those few brief seconds of unquestionable sensation. Whatever wickedness lurked in her own makeup was not worth the price she paid!
She watched Steece moving in on her, forcing her legs apart with the strength of his own as he guided his tormenting tool to the small valley of uncertain flesh. Thrashing about only brought more pain to the wounds at her wrist and gave him an invited opportunity to use violence on her. She felt herself go rigid as she braced herself for his entry. Carver leaned over the bed, his stale breath forming a cloud near her face. Steece held his chest up away from her as he pressed the knob of his vicious staff to the torn, tender flesh of her slit.
"I'm going to screw you, bitch! Your legs are free ... watch, see how fast you grab me with them! You like fucking, don't you?" His words were meaningless. They were said to shame her and she felt the shame just as he hoped she would. "Why aren't you calling me the usual names you whites reserve for blacks? If this was in theory instead of practice, I bet you could think of all sorts of things to say!"
He forced himself downward, into her tightness, sneering at her tears and pain-laden outcries. The hard shaft jammed in until she could feel his pubic hair against hers but even then, it didn't seem to stop! It went on and on, burrowing into the very depths of her femininity, halting only when it slammed against the tender mouth of her womb.
The pain that began at the action point had risen like a ball of fire up through her body until it formed a tight knot of choking hysteria in her throat. Her head bobbed on the pillow, tossing from one side to the other. She couldn't bear to see his cruel lips curled back in that contemptuous smile as he drove each measured, painful thrust into her belly.
"Please stop! Oh, please!" She hated herself for begging his mercy but she couldn't help it. He was tearing her apart! Her crazed mind went into a whirlwind of jumbled thoughts.
The odor of the room, of his body, even her own, was overwhelming. The smell gagged her almost as badly as having Carver's cock plunging into her mouth moments earlier. His pounding never ceased until he heaved a tremendous sigh of relief and fell heavily on top of her. She could feel the spurts of his seed traveling her inner canal in warm, quick jets and her body went limp with its own kind of relief. He was finished!
Her moment of reprieve was short-lived. Steece pulled away from her reluctantly, his prick still semi-hard and nasty-looking. He climbed up her body until he was sitting on the lower part of her rib cage. The bend of his knees on either side of her served to take most of his weight, but she could still feel the sweaty crack of his ass bearing down into her as he flattened out his black pole between her white tits. His hands moved roughly over them, forcing them to sandwich his meat tightly between while he began a slow, riding movement, backward and forward between them.
"I'm fucking your tits, slut, in case you wondered. All black bitches like having their tits fucked and I don't see much difference in you."
She stared downward at the huge, protruding head creeping between her creamy boobs and then back up at his pleasure-ridden face. He wasn't kidding! He was actually doing it to her breasts! She shoved upward toward the head of the bed with all her might, trying to dislodge him but he rode up with her, laughing at her crude attempt. The motion made room for Carver to mount the bed again and he wasted no time in situating himself between her thighs. She tried to jerk them together but she was too late. His hand was already probing and plying the area around her throbbing cunt, making ready for an entry of something. She couldn't see him beyond the huge frame of Steece's body and the fear of not knowing what he would hit her with brought a louder quality of sobs ripping from her throat.
"You better shut up or I'll change the course of this ship and sail it into your mouth!"
Steece paused in his rhythm and edged forward enough to frighten her to silence. His fingers dug into the fatty flesh of her breasts, leaving red imprints when they moved away. His prick felt like an iron poker against her flesh, searing and hot.
The man below was pushing her legs upward and apart, giving himself the pleasure of a full, unhindered view of the meat he was about to attack. Thick cream left behind from Steece was still oozing out of the reddened slit. Strawberries and cream, Carver thought, his mouth watering eagerly as he dropped to sample the delectable dessert.
Martie groaned as he slid his long, practiced tongue past the tiny organ and fell into the deep opening below it. He was even more proficient at tongue fucking than Steece was. Her body trembled its warning to her soul but she was helplessly pinned to the mattres. She couldn't have moved even if she had had the real desire to do so. The tongue probed deeper and deeper, swirling around inside, then withdrawing to lap around the minute nipple between her sex folds before it dove back into her depths. Steece was working faster now, his eyes closed to mere slits, his mouth lax as his muscles tightened. The flood poured over her breasts, down onto her throat but Martie's mind could not grasp that right now. Every fiber ached to respond to the agonizing demands of her groin. She could feel the gathering of passion rising and forming a trickling, little river ready to rush out to meet the sea. Steece dismounted and flopped beside her but she was too preoccupied to bless the relief. Carver jerked back and repositioned himself quickly. It was his prick diving into her now! His prick, and it no longer rubbed the throbbing little organ, so near release. Martie let out a loud cry of dismay. He buffeted over her body uncaring of her needs. His big, swollen prick was growing and growing within the warm walls of her purity. He exploded.
CHAPTER FIVE
Martie stared at the ceiling, its ugly gaping cracks looking back at her. Pain! It was everywhere! Not a bone or muscle in her body was without the horrible ache! She had been there two days. Two days that seemed like an eternity. And where was Josh? They hadn't even mentioned him. Was he still alive? Her vow of silence wouldn't let her ask. And even the silence ... it didn't seem to bother them. Perhaps it even served as greater incentive for their perverse hate! They kept referring to her as Miss High and Mighty and each time the name curled from their lips, the punishment seemed greater than before.
The only time she was relieved from her torturous, spreadeagled position was twice a day when they took her downstairs to the floor below. She cringed just thinking about it. One of them would push her down on the toilet while the other two chanted crazily, "Shit, piss, shit, piss, ooooohoooo ... shit, piss, shit piss." She soon learned that nature was mistress over pride. After all of the rotten, filthy things they were subjecting her to, the ordeal of elimination seemed hardly worth worrying about.
Occasionally, she thought she could hear Josh barking somewhere in the house, but she couldn't be sure. Her imagination was playing all sorts of morbid tricks on her lately. Maybe it was the strain of hunger. Martie winced as another gnawing rumble tore at her belly, reminding her of the terrible, aching hollowness. The nausea only worsened whenever she thought of the horsemeat they offered at frequent intervals.
She recalled thinking how full the world was when she was released from the state home. How many people! How many houses! And cars and places! Where were they now? It was like the world had vanished, leaving only the four of them behind, five maybe if Josh was still alive.
Even with her eyes shut tightly, she could see their sneering, hateful faces, peering at her, snarling their vulgarities! Steece! The fear she felt when she first saw him was a thousand times worse now. Steece ... tall, strong, strikingly handsome, but his handsomeness was marred by the fringes of his hate and perversion! He was hard and mean! Her body twitched as though his hand had touched her. And Carver. Sloppy Carver! Old Carver. Perhaps not so old in years, but too old to feel the same vehement hate that carried Steece like a torch through the night. His flesh was saggy and wrinkled where skin shouldn't be wrinkled, but his eyes were bright with lust. It was all a big, happy, sex-go-round as far as he was concerned, and he didn't bother to hide it! Maybe once he cared about the race battle but time had taken that from him and left him with the only pleasure he cared for ... sex! Or was there one more pleasure? Drugs perhaps? She could swear she had seen the same glazed look in his eyes that she had come to know from the kids at The Cup. How she would give her right arm right now to possess some of that "magic" they talked of, the stuff that made every reality seem like nothing at all!
Richie's face bobbed up in her thoughts. The chills ran anew up her spine. He was so blank until it came time for him to take possession of her! The blank look would disappear to be replaced by one of pure glee. It was like they had given him a new toy or something. He mounted her like a small boy mounts his first rocking horse and he rode her as furiously, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until she thought she would break in two with the sheer weight and force of his body and all the while, he wore that queer, faraway look of a joy to come or a joy remembered!
She cocked her head to one side of the hard, dirty pillow and listened. Was that Josh? Was it?
Oh, God, let it be him! Let him still be alive!
The door slammed open and Martie strained to raise her head. It was Josh! Oh, God! Look at him! He's starving! They're starving him to death!
He whimpered when he saw her. Martie gasped in sympathetic anguish. His fur was snarled and tangled. His ribs were poking out pitifully.
"You're killing my dog! Why?" she gasped. "Why are you torturing him? He doesn't know anything about prejudice! Why are you making him pay?" Her outburst brought a curled snarl to Steece's lips.
"We ain't killing him! You are! I told you ... you eat, he eats! It's as simple as that! You do our bidding, we'll see your dog gets fed! Same as on the streets! Nigger do the white man's dirty work, the white man will toss a shred and a bone to the nigger!"
"Shall I bring the meat up again, Steece, huh?" Richie was eager to see her down on all fours again. He liked the way her ass looked, all heart-shaped like a valentine.
Steece walked over and shoved her head back down to the pillow. "No! No, that ain't enough any more! She had that chance once, remember?" He stopped and directed his gaze right into her face. "You want that cur alive, you'll have to do more than eat the horsemeat now! Do you understand?"
For a moment the shame of her position was forgotten. She stared back into his evil eyes, afraid of what he might say, yet not daring to turn away.
"You have to let us fuck you! Let us! Not lie there fighting and crying like some holy virgin, but let us! You can't lay there and pretend we ain't here any more ... no, that won't do it at all! You'll stay on that bed, without the ropes, and you'll let us do whatever we want without trying to get away."
He jerked back away from her and paced the floor around the bed, watching her for a response. She shrank back, the shame heavier and bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Josh's pitiful whining filled her ears just as visions of allowing herself to be taken filled her mind. How could she do it? It was bad enough when they were forcing her, but to let them? Could she control her own urges to fight them? How? How? How?
"Turn that mutt off the rope!" Steece waved his hand impatiently at Richie who stood looking at him stupidly as though he hadn't heard a word of what he was told to do.
"You heard me, let the dog loose!"
Josh strained as Richie fumbled with the tight knot around his neck, then dashed straight for the bed once freedom was his. He didn't have the strength to pull himself up beside her but his nose and paws touched her arm, his long tongue licking at her.
Martie's face crumpled as the tears broke the restraining dam. How she longed to reach out and gather him to her for comfort! "Okay," she whispered. "I'll do it ... oh, God ... I'll do it...." Her words trailed off into a whimper.
Steece expelled a long shudder of breath as though his world had hinged on what she said. "You hear that, Carver? See how even the whites will sell themselves out? Get the food Richie!"
Carver scuffed over from his slumping position against the wall where he had watched and listened to everything that went on. "You ain't going to take her word for it, are you? You know damned good and well as soon as that dog eats, she'll forget what she said!"
Steece looked smugly at Martie, then glared at his questioning friend. "What kind of a fool do you take me for? She's white! Her word don't mean anything! She'll eat the horsemeat and we'll put the mutt's share over there on the dresser where she can see it. She'll cooperate or that dog will die just drooling over the meal he can't reach!"
Richie bounded back into the room carrying the familiar-looking brown package. He was beside himself with excitement. Martie couldn't stand to look at him.
"Hold the dog and put the rope around her neck," Steece said, picking up the rope and handing it to Carver. "Richie, you put some food on the floor for her!"
Once the rope was secured, Steece unfastened the two at her wrists. She gasped as the circulation flowed freely to the tormented area of her flesh.
The floor met her with a thud as Carver jerked the rope, yanking her clear. Instinctively, she scrambled to right herself and cover as much of her exposed body as she could while Steece roared with laughter at her frenzied attempts.
"Eat bitch! Eat hearty! That mutt of yours can't survive much longer!" He gave her a kick on the backside that sent her sprawling again. Richie had to restrain Josh, but he couldn't quiet the animal's growling warnings.
Tears obliterated her vision as she crawled the few remaining feet to the nauseous pile of horseflesh. She didn't know who she felt the sorriest for, herself or Josh. She reached out to grasp a morsel but Steece's foot intervened.
"Dogs don't use their hands! Why should you?"
Richie scuttled around so he would have a direct view of her posterior as she bent her head and body down to close her lips over the foul-tasting meat. His prick rose as he watched the firm mounds part slightly with her motion.
Verna, down the street, let him shove it in her ass for three bucks a shot, and he wondered wildly if he might get by with it for nothing with this white bitch. She wasn't in any position to voice any protests!
Steece said they were going to do everything they could think of to bring her down and Richie couldn't think of a more pleasant way of adding his assistance to the plan. Something like having her sweet, white ass filled with black, hard meat should set her back on her high and mighty ears all right! He trembled just thinking about the feel the tight, brown ring would bring around his dick as he watched the twitches and involuntary muscle spasms straining in her rear.
Deftly, his hand moved down and unzipped his fly, reaching in to gather his cock in familiar embrace.
Steece shot him a sideways look and grinned lecherously. He knew just how Richie felt. He felt the same way. He could hardly wait until she had completed his first part of the challenge. The spectacle of that proud, white slut, down on her hands and knees, eating dog food like an animal was doing something to him. He thought of the times his own mother had been on her hands and knees in some rich, white man's house or building, scrubbing and cleaning until her fingers bled. Her whole short life had been filled with toiling for one white or another, and all for a measly token payment! A small, always inadequate amount that hardly served to keep a few morsels of food in her children's mouths. Yeah! Whitey looked good down there! Her puny life couldn't begin to make up for the loss of his mother's but it was a start, it was the first real, solid brick in the building of his revenge!
His hate was a raging, evil thing within as he began to peel off his shirt and loosen his trousers. How many young, colored girls had been ruthlessly screwed by the owners of the plantations they labored on? How many? How many?
Martie choked down the last tidbit of the wretched concoction and looked triumphantly at Josh. He didn't understand her sacrifice. He only understood that she was eating and he was not. His whining went on and on woefully, and Martie had to turn away from the questioning look in his eyes.
"Feed him now. I promise I'll keep my word, but please, feed him now." She didn't dare look at any of them. Her shame was too great, but begging in behalf of Josh was something she could do. She must do!
Carver yanked the rope, nearly toppling her over again. "Steece said your word wasn't worth the breath it takes! Get on that bed!" He bent over, unfastening the rope. "Start proving your word!"
The rope fell beside her and she looked at it with a sort of wonder. The impulse to try for an escape pounded in her head but she hadn't lost her reason ... not yet. She knew she would never make it. Not in a thousand years! They would kill her before they would let her get away!
She looked at the feet surrounding her and crawled slowly to the bed, hoisting herself on it with great effort and no enthusiasm. Josh was tied only a few, short feet away from the dresser where they had set his helping of the meat. It was a hateful thing to do! His cries were more pitiful than ever as the aroma filled his nostrils.
Martie shuddered and turned over, spreading herself for whatever atrocities they planned to commit in an effort to make her prove her part of the bargain. The discipline of the ropes was strongly embedded in her reflexes. Self-consciously, she brought her limbs back to a more modest position. Her cheeks flamed as they made snide remarks about how she must have liked it the other way to go back to it so willingly.
"Turn over! I like the looks of your backside better!" Steece's voice was harsh but she couldn't move. So far, none of them had required this of her and she panicked now, not knowing for sure what it would mean.
"I said turn over!" He bent over her, grasping a tit in each hand and twisting cruelly. Martie scrambled to her stomach, willing to do anything to loose his agonizing grip on her tender breasts.
She could hear the rustling of clothes as Richie and Carver began dropping their pants and discarding their torn, dirty T-shirts. Steece gave a whoop and mounted her thighs, tracing hard patterns on her bare back and buttocks with his hands. He moved forward a bit and massaged the crease-line of her ass, slowly exposing, bit by bit, a very tight, very tense brownie.
Her breath was almost inaudible now as the trembling of fearful apprehension took over her body. He was moving again. Moving, pushing, parting, separating her until, at last, he was between her thighs, pulling them up high while Carver shoved rags and a pillow beneath her underside. Martie grabbed the bedrails and prayed for the strength to see this thing through. For Josh's sake!
She could feel hands on her legs, stretching them up so that her ass was even more elevated. No! Not there! Not there, please, God, stop them!
"Wow, man! Look at that virgin stuff!" Steece whistled as both orifices opened up before him. He raised up on his knees, gathering his oversized prick in his hands and began rolling it back and forth between them. "I'm going to jab that sweet ass! Watch and see if I don't!" He grinned evilly, not bothering to look up at his admiring audience. "Yeah! I'm going to fuck her cunt and then I'm going to ram every inch of this into that pretty little brown hole. I didn't know whites were part brown, did you, Carver?" He laughed at his own pun and slammed his finger into her bowels. Martie screamed as the shock zipped through her unsuspecting body. It was like an enema tube only worse ... a hundred times worse! The urge to shit coursed through her bowels, but there was no such relief as that. His finger poked around, satisfying itself that she had never been stuck in the ass before, then withdrew as quickly as it had entered.
She turned crimson at the loud, wet popping noise the withdrawal made and buried her head into the mattress, gasping for breath.
She could feel him readying himself for a real move and her body went tight. He weaved above the inviting, upside down slit with his cock firmly in his grip, then descended upon her.
She squirmed as she felt the fire-hot tip touch the area of skin between her anus and vagina and then let out a tremendous howl as he pushed past the puffy lips of her cunt, deep into her fucking channel.
Everything depended on how well she received him. She knew it! But she couldn't help the horrible sounds escaping her mouth! Her lips were bleeding where she tried to hold back her outcries but it simply wouldn't work. The pain was too great and too new! Steece's hands were hard around her hips, pulling her up to him with every downward thrust, pushing her away as he withdrew.
The angle was so different. Nothing seemed to touch where she had grown accustomed to being touched! He was striking at areas practically unviolated and the pain was like dull razors, grinding her into pieces from within. Time and time again she tried to stifle her cries but it was useless. The hoarse, raspy sounds were coming from her throat!
He moved in closer, pressing every inch he could fit into her, in, groaning his own glory cries without heed for her agony. The hands around her legs tightened, absolutely forfeiting any gesture she might have made to get away from the deadening pressure.
Steece plunged hard until his balls flapped against her skin, rockets of semen pouring into her belly. It was moments, long moments, before he released his vise-like grip on her hips and let her slip back down against the pillow.
Her fingernails had ripped long, narrow slits into the mattress above her head and lay quiet now, part of the dirty stuffing still stuck under them. She couldn't believe it could be so painful! She thought she had already tasted the ultimate of pain! She collapsed, gasping for air and praying for death. Surely they would feed Josh now! Surely!
"Flip her over! I want to see how well she eats cock!" Steece moved aside to allow the capable hands of Carver and Richie to do his bidding. They turned her roughly without regard for her pain. Another loud groan issued from her cut lips as she felt a throbbing fire rip through her body. Her mouth dropped open to beg them to feed the dog but words would not form beyond the pained, swollen lips. Only her eyes beseeched them and they answered that with the laughter of sadists.
"She thinks she's through! She thinks she's earned some meat for that bastard dog!" Carver was the first to quiet his insane ridicule and speak coherently. "Show her, Steece! Show her what earning a living means!"
"Yeah, baby. Look what you gone and done to my tube. You done knocked the wind out of it and now you're going to have to blow it back up!" Richie howled with another outburst of sadistic laughter at Steece's little joke.
She fought. There was nothing left to do but fight. They weren't going to have mercy on Josh. It was all a game, a trick! Her anger alllowed her a brief showing of strength but it soon ebbed. Her body didn't have the stamina to keep up with her wrath. She could still hear Josh, growling softly, whining, begging to understand.
Suddenly she grabbed the soft, flabby piece of flesh Steece was moving in with and brought it to her mouth. Her eyes rolled back right before she closed them and opened her lips to receive the foul intruder.
Steece's face clouded with victory as he pushed forward, making her gulp the whole limp organ into her mouth. His hands were on either side of her head in case she changed her mind but the harder he tightened his grip, the more action she gave him with her tongue.
Get it over with. Get it over with. Get it over with, she kept telling herself as the vileness of her act sickened her to the core. The shaft that had entered so flabby was'growing. Growing longer and fatter within her cheeks until she finally had to shove some of it back out with her tongue.
Richie ran his fingers up and down the beauty of her long, white thighs, moving ever-closer to her raw cunt while Carver leaned over and took great, slobbering nips from her belly. Steece was far enough forward that nothing they did could interfere with his pleasure, and he didn't even care what was going on at the other end of her body. Her cheeks were pumping in and out joyfully, her tongue inside, pushing and nudging the foreskin around in a most exciting manner. He made her play around for a long time before he got down to the business of the real action. Finally he spread his hands on the mattress over her head and started bucking into the oval shape of her mouth until he could feel the hot spasms of joy bubbling for the eruption. Martie choked at the amount of cum he spewed into her throat, twisting her head wildly, trying to get out from under the never-ending river of evil.
Carver was ready as soon as Steece made way for him. He sprawled out without a word or warning of any kind and covered her entire body with his own before she could have moved if she was going to. Her legs were together and this riled him enough to make him yelp for the others to yank them out but neither of his comrades in the evil doings would aid him.
"She has to let you fuck her, Carver, or the deal is off. Give her a chance! I want to see her crawl!"
Richie cared less whether she won or lost the bargain and was all for helping. The sooner Carver got off, the quicker he would be on and he intended to turn her over and put it to her ass! Steece placed a restraining hand on his shoulder as he stepped forward to the bed. "I said she has to do it herself!"
Martie didn't hear them any more. All she heard were the woeful moans of her beloved dog. Her legs separated slowly. Carver yanked his hands away from her tits and dove downward with them until she could feel them tangling in the damp mass of pubic hair. His fingers were like curious snakes, each off in a different direction, each deadly with intent. He stretched the lips of her cunt so wide she felt they must be tearing but the pain was too numbing. She didn't yell. She didn't move. He ground his hard saber into her mushy tenderness without meeting resistance or response. The lack of fight on her part angered him, or was it the lack of response? Nothing mattered except making her howl with pleasure and as his saggy body moved more heavily upon her, she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out. The sounds coming from between them were wet, plopping sounds, lewd to her ears but there was no way of blotting them out. They became louder and louder as his tempo increased but still, she wouldn't move to encircle him.
Steece went to the dresser and started tapping out a rhythm to go with the banging noises Carver was making and Richie chanted to make it a complete trio.
Even Josh quit whining and cocked his head, listening without understanding what he heard. Just as Martie felt she couldn't take it another second, Carver made a strange rasping sound and came down with all his remaining force, pumping his fuel into her depths.
The smell of him gagged her as he fell forward, his head next to hers, his big, wet lips nuzzling her ear.
CHAPTER SIX
Her unconsciousness after Richie's cruel attack on her rectum, lasted a whole day and part of that night. The hell they went through, thinking she was going to die couldn't begin to compare with the torment of her nightmares while she maintained surface limbo.
Every time consciousness tried to push its way back through, her mind slipped into the pit of flame that had befallen her right before she went under.
Carver had finished and finally removed his stinking, sweaty body from hers. Steece was right beside the bed sneering and gloating as he so often was and Richie was mounting the bed, his blank look once again transformed into that insane glow of expectancy. She hadn't expected any decency from him but she hadn't expected what he did either.
If Steece's finger had been bad and evil and vile and disgusting, it was nothing to what happened to her when Richie flipped her over and grabbed her hips. She prepared herself for what had happened when Steece took her from the backside, but the lance missed its mark! Richie's long, fleshy pole sank straight into her ass! There was no prolonged entry! He placed the pulsating head against her anus and shoved forward, taking the tight, drawn skin of her anus in with him. Her loud cries came and went as she neared and veered away from the blackness she was trying subconsciously to reach. His ass was a giant hammer, powered by something stronger than body strength. It rammed and crammed ruthlessly accompanied by his guttural laughter and loud, gasping pants for more air to rekindle his machinery. She felt her flesh ripping and tearing and the warm trickles of blood running from the gaping wound to the tender ditch of her cunt. It seemed her whole body went numb except for that one area and every nerve found its ending right there as a tireless Richie pounded against her.
The trio sat and watched her, half-frightened, half-glad that she was in such pain. Her body jerked spasmodically from time to time, enough to let them know she was still alive. Her eyelids fluttered and almost opened, then shut tightly as her face contorted with an unseen agony.
"You got any stuff, man?" Carver asked Steece in an offhand manner, trying to cover his fear with something more realistic. "I can't find none anywhere and I need it!"
"I could go for some myself," Steece answered.
They both looked at Richie. He usually had some stashed away like an old miser, but this time he just shook his head sadly. "None left."
They sat quietly again, each thinking how good it would feel to trip out for a while. Steece's face brightened.
"Yeah, man! You know Verna? Sure you do. Well, you know how she always has some chicks around that go for cunt meat instead of prick?" Both heads nodded eagerly in understanding.
"Well, why don't we just call on her and make ourselves a little deal? I bet they would pay plenty to sink their hot, little tongues into our prize, here!" He pointed to the motionless girl on the bed.
Carver's eyes brightened for a moment. "Yeah, but we'd have to clean up this mess first. You know, kinda up the price to match the merchandise, so to speak."
Steece took in the disarray of the room and the mess on the body of the girl that dribbled off onto the mattress below her. "I see what you mean ... yeah ... well, we can fix that!"
He scooped the horsemeat off the dresser and watched as Josh devoured it, almost choking, he was wolfing it so fast. "We'll clean her up, then turn the mattress. That should be enough. Richie, go get a bunch of rags and that bucket of water again."
Martie felt the coolness of the wrung out rags on her tortured flesh and groaned in her sleep. Little by little the nightmare of blackness disappeared and was replaced by the bleakness of light. She brought her arms up to cover her breasts but Richie knocked them away as he continued his merciless scrubbing. Steece, working between her legs, was more careful but not with her comfort in mind. He wanted the offer to look good when he made it, that's all.
Carver was trying to pull a comb through the tangled mass of hair that tumbled on either side of the pillow around her head but his efforts weren't rewarded as time and time again, he ran into a snarl that just wouldn't pull out. The first soothing feel of the cool water was swallowed up by the tormenting rubs and pulls of the men.
Martie could hear herself crying but she didn't feel the emotion. She was far beyond it. She had reached the valley of utter hopelessness.
Steece and Carver held her up while Richie turned the mattress. That side wasn't much cleaner than the other but at least it was dry, and they seemed well-pleased with their efforts. Steece picked up the comb and began where Carver left off in exasperation.
"You got to work it through carefully, man. Carefully. I used to watch a whore do this after I finished screwing her. She always got up and mixed herself a drink and then sat down in front of a dirty-looking, broken mirror. It was kind of fascinating, the way she thought it mattered. Hell! None of her customers came to see if her lipstick was on and her hair was combed! She wasn't really bad looking, come to think of it but whenever I saw her, all I thought about was getting into her cunt."
By the time he finished relating his story of the whore with the combed hair, Martie's was once again resembling what it used to look like. Even Richie and Carver gave her a rather admiring glance before they went on to the rest of the room cleaning.
Steece sat on the bed and looked directly into her face, angered by the way she stared back, unseeing.
"We got a whole new thing lined up for you, baby. You going to earn us some money! How do you like that?"
She didn't move but something did penetrate. Suddenly she remembered Josh. "Did you feed my dog?" she asked evenly.
A smile danced over Steece's face. "Yeah, we fed him, but that was a day and a half ago. He's hungry again. And guess what? We thought up another way for you to earn his dinner!" He started to tell her about the plan but decided it would be more worthwhile to everyone concerned if she was surprised.
The girls Verna would provide were a ruthless bunch, all of them white-haters. They wouldn't care if she wanted them or not. They would take her body in the same way he and his friends had, and that was the only way Steece wanted it. He didn't want anyone coming in and babying her or sympathizing with her! She was still just a white bitch that needed a little lesson in humanity, and he would see to it that she had all the best teachers he could find!
"I want to see my dog. I don't believe you fed him." She never took her eyes from his nor did she recoil when he raised his hand to silence her insolence.
"Okay. You'll see him. Get the mutt and bring a bunch of those ropes back in here. We're going to have to leave these two alone and I want them both secured."
Richie bounced out whistling and returned with the dog and ropes a minute later. Josh still looked weak and bedraggled but it was obvious that he had had the benefit of some sort of nourishment. He didn't look any worse than he did before. They wouldn't let her talk to him or touch him but it was enough for Martie just to see him. She wanted to cry with gladness but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
They left her tied, arms straight out from her sides and legs wide apart with Josh, several yards away, straining at his bonds to get to her.
"We'll be back with your surprise soon. While you're lying there, be thinking about how far you would go to save that mutt's life."
CHAPTER SEVEN
It seemed incredible that they were gone; out of the room, out of the house and perhaps, even out of the neighborhood and she couldn't move to free herself! Suddenly, eyeing Josh, a plan began to form. It wasn't much of a hope but it was something. Something to cling to and she knew, without it, she would soon go very, very mad!
"Josh ... Josh, baby, come here ... try Josh, try...." His tail thumped against the dresser in answer to the cooing sounds she directed at him, but he couldn't move either. The rope around his neck choked him every time he ventured more than a step in any direction. The more she coaxed, the harder his tail thumped and the louder he whined.
"Josh, listen ... you've got to get us out of here. Do you understand, Josh? Josh, I can't make it! It has to be you! You've got to run away and get help! Oooooh!" Her neck muscles hurt from holding her head up to see him. "Pull, Josh, pull! You've got to get away from that rope! Bite through it, Josh, bite!" Tears stung her eyes as she watched him look at her helplessly. It was too much to ask. He could never get free of the rope. It was too heavy.
"Josh, I know you think I've failed you but I couldn't help it!" She talked to him like he was a child. Her child. A child that had been disappointed through the neglect of its mother. But shame was put aside again.
"Okay, Josh. I know you can't get loose right now, I know that. But you've got to try. Do you hear? Whenever they let that leash loose even for a moment, you've got to try! Don't be afraid of leaving me. You can't help me here! You've got to go get help!"
She sank back against the bed, crying and mumbling. If only there was some way for him to get loose. If only there was! She was frightened about what Steece had been saying before they left. Something about a new way to earn Josh's keep. What? What could be new and what could be worse? That thought helped her a little. Nothing could be worse! She had to keep him alive! It was more important now than ever! He would get away somehow ... yes, he would! And he would bring someone back to free her!
"I'm telling you," Steece repeated. "We do have a girl like the one I told you about! We have her and we're going to keep her just like we have for nearly a week!"
"I don't believe you. You're just trying some funny business to get my girls up there! What's the matter with you? Don't I give you a fair enough deal down here?" Verna's words were an explosion as she eyed him. "And what's the bit about wanting Lesbians? Have you gone off your rocker?"
"I don't want your girls and I don't want any sex you can offer around here. I want stuff, do you understand?"
"Tell me about her again. If you're on the level, I might be interested myself." Her eyes narrowed beneath the puffy lids as she lit a cigarette and leaned back to listen again to the fantastic tale Steece was trying to sell her.
"Now you're acting smart, Verna. There is plenty in this for you, too, if you'll just shut up and listen!"
Steece went through the whole thing. He told her about his night at The Cup-the humiliating way the blacks he was with just sat around taking all the guff and insults just so they could say they were integrated. He told her how they had Martie tied to a bed for a week, all safe and sound and away from the eyes of the law. He went into vivid details about the way he and Carver and Richie had degraded her, even adding the part about making her pay for her dog's chow with her body.
Verna listened intently. There was only one thing she hated worse than a white man and that was a white woman! If what Steece was saying was true....
"So what's your plan, big man?" she asked carelessly.
"Hey, Verna, come off it. I know you happen to cater to Lesbian clientele as well as any other. All I'm asking is that the next time you get a party of them, bring them to our place. Charge them whatever you think is right but add extra for us. You get yours, they get happy, we get our stuff!"
"Yes, and that white slut gets what she has coming to her! She isn't gay, is she? I mean, if she was, that would blow the whole pitch."
Steece grinned slyly. "Are you kidding? She was as pure as a lily when we got her. I'm not shitting you, Verna, she was a virgin! Could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out but it's the honest truth, I swear it!"
"Okay," Verna said, getting up with the motion of dismissal. "You got yourself a deal! Have her ready tonight. Well be there!"
Carver and Richie were waiting outside on the steps when Steece sauntered out, grinning from ear to ear. "It won't be long now," he said as they started back in the direction of the old tenement house. "Whitey is going to help us throw a party tonight to end all parties!"
A long, low whistle escaped Carver's lips. "Man, am I going to like watching that! I saw a couple gay girls once, making out. Goddamn! I tell you, it's really something!"
"I want to fuck her in the ass again. Steece, we aren't going to give her to them, are we?" Richie wasn't as thrilled about the aspects of a trip as he was scared over losing the prize they already possessed.
"Hell no! You don't think I've had my fill of her yet either, do you? Neither has Carver." He nudged Carver in the ribs good-naturedly.
"Never, man, never!" Carver looked at Richie's dubious expression. "Hey, stupid, you want a trip don't you? Can you think of an easier way to get it? It's like having our cake and the frosting too!"
Martie didn't hear them come in, partly because she was still mumbling to Josh and partly because of her complete exhaustion. When she did hear them, their voices seemed to be coming from the room across the hall. She didn't try to make out what they were saying. Just having them that close was enough to send chills racing through her body again.
"Remember now, Josh. Remember what I told you. The first time you get a chance ... make it! Run like our lives depended upon it because mine does!"
Josh strained nervously at the rope, still hammering his tail against the dresser and wishing he could get near enough to feel her hand behind his ears.
Somehow in those quiet hours of aloneness, Martie had convinced herself that Josh was the ultimate. He was her only salvation! Keeping him alive was vital to her own life, such as it was. He would make the break! She knew it! She felt it! He would make it and head straight for The Cup. There wasn't any question in her mind about his being able to get someone to follow him back here. Everyone at The Cup knew he was her dog; they would be frantic about her when they saw him come in alone. Yes! That was her answer! Josh! Good ol'Josh! How she loved him!
She dozed until dusk and would have slept through until dawn if the creaking of the door had not awakened her. For once, it hadn't been kicked open or slammed back against the wall behind it.
She saw Steece first, then a woman, a black woman. What would they be bringing a woman here for? Her eyes opened more widely as she saw that two other women were following the first one and behind them, Richie and Carver.
A deep foreboding began way down in the innermost part of her soul and worked its way outward. She could feel screams rising in her throat as the party neared the bed but she couldn't make a sound. Fear filled her face and poured out through her eyes.
Verna spoke first, her deep, raspy, whiskey voice clawing through Martie's senses. "Looks like you were telling the truth, Steece. I wouldn't have believed it unless I saw it. You don't mind if the girls check it out a bit before we begin the bargaining, do you?"
Steece grinned his evil reply and made a gesture as if saying, "She's all yours." He and the other two men backed off and watched from the far corner of the room while the two black Lesbians crept in on Martie. Her eyes were wild as she realized the meaning of their being there.
They weren't the same kind she had seen around Haight-Ashbury. There was no finesse or class involved with their open admiration of her wares. Verna stood at the end of the bed and smiled as the dykes slowly assured themsleves that they weren't dreaming.
She couldn't help staring at them even though the thing she wanted most in the world was to close her eyes and have them disappear. One of them, the one called Tommie, pushed her hands down on Martie's belly and then began moving slowly downward to her helpless crotch. As the strong, feminine fingers pulled at the lips of her vagina, Martie let out a howl that startled everyone. She had been so quiet up until then. They hadn't expected any trouble with her.
Tommie's mouth opened joyously at the sound. It thrilled her. To have a lay that would scream and fight and hate every minute of it until Tommie converted her, that was Tommie's dream! She stepped back and nodded vigorously at Verna, then waited while her companion did some sampling of her own. She dropped her head down, encompassing one of Martie's pink-tipped nipples between her thick, warm lips. Sucking sounds mingled with the short, shrill screams still coming from Martie's terrified being. The dyke was beside herself and had to be pulled away from the writhing girl until a bargain could be made. They left the room as abruptly as they had entered but Martie lay trembling in the wake. Josh would never get away in time to save her from this! Maybe he wouldn't get away at all! "Josh! Josh! Josh!" Her screaming brought Steece and Carver running back into the room.
"Shut your fucking mouth! You trying to get us in a fix?" His hand salmmed against her face so hard he withdrew it and sucked his throbbing knuckles into his mouth. "Goddamn you! I'm going to kill that goddamn dog! I swear it! I'll kill him!" He moved to Josh, huddling beside the dresser, as terrified as his mistress.
"No! No, don't hurt him! I'll be quiet!" She gased her plea wildly. If anything happened to Josh, she never would get out of there.
Steece reached for the dog's neck, shaking with rage. "One more yell out of you and he gets it! Understand? One more lousy, fucking word!"
The door slammed adding emphasis to his anger.
Martie looked at her would-be savior tearfully. "Oh, Josh ... Josh, you just got to get out of here."
She vowed that no matter what happened, she would not let herself scream out again. Steece wasn't fooling around! He would kill the dog, she had no doubt of it!
Darkness filed into the room before anyone returned and she began to think that they were having their own party somewhere else in the flat. Relief started to seep into the corners of her fear. Maybe they had grown tired of the game after all. Maybe they were planning a way now to get rid of her. Maybe even kill her. She didn't care. It was a glorious thought. Anything would be better than staying here, naked and helpless against those monsters a moment longer. She wished she had paid more attention to Sunday school lessons in the home now. Maybe there was something she should be saying, something she should be telling God about that would help her through the deep sleep of eternity.
The dimly outlined figures of the two women came through the door and then it closed. Martie strained to see through the darkness. She knew they were nearing her. She could hear them breathing but no one said a word. The bed creaked as they moved onto it with her and then suddenly, there was a hand clamped tightly over her mouth and a hissing kind of voice in her ear.
"You might as well forget about yelling or getting away. We bought you for the night and we fixing to get our money's worth!" The voice stopped a moment, then continued with a sneering sound. " 'Sides, Whitey, you might like what we fixing to do to you."
The hand remained tight against her lips as she felt another hand between her thighs.
"God, Lordy! Is she ever soft and creamy!" The hands kept moving. Up and down, up and down the inside of her legs, coming closer and closer each time to the slit at her crotch. Goosebumps followed and remained where the hands traced their pathway.
Martie jerked her head, trying to get loose of the one holding her but the woman's hands were like steel grips. She intended to keep Martie quiet until her friend had a chance to start some action. After that, it wouldn't matter!
The moon didn't give much light but enough of it filtered through the dirty, ripped screen to give her a good glimpse of the black woman hovering over her cunt. She brought her hands up and parted the sweet meat tenderly with fingers that knew exactly where to touch and how. Another shudder bounded through Martie's body.
She was going to eat her! She was going to do the same thing Steece and the others did! Oh, God, no! Not a woman!
The head bent lower, each slight drop a tantalizing torture to the girl watching helplessly. She could feel her tiny organ being plyed artfully between the Lesbian's fingers and then the tongue coming down to draw it into her mouth!
Martie's body burned spasmodically, fighting blindly for an escape. But there was no escape! The tongue was like a well-trained bloodhound, tracking down its prey! It whipped in and out of the torn, tender slit, soothing, healing! The fight ebbed slowly and the hand came away from her mouth.
"You see, white trash, we ain't so bad! We get you going pretty good, huh?" Her voice was still no more than a hissing sound, full of contempt and loathing and lust. But worse, it was a woman's voice! The fact brought Martie out of her lethargic stupor again. A woman! A queer! A Lesbian! Two of them! And they were taking her over! She pulled with all her might away from the suctioning tongue, recoiling inwardly from the nasty, slurping sound the break of contact made.
"Hold that mother-fucking bitch still up there, will you, Tommie! Goddamn restless whore! Knows good and well she loves every minute of it! White trash!"
The voice disappeared into her crotch again as both sides of her face rang with the even blows the other woman was administering with her open palms.
"Mae says for you to cool it, bitch! Understand?" Her cheeks were like flaming slabs of meat when Tommie finished. They were just like the men! Worse maybe!
She tried her only other defense ... ignoring them. Yes, she would fix her mind on something else and pretend they weren't there. At least they couldn't stick her!
But the ignoring was out of the question, Martie realized, tears streaming down her face. Tommie was nursing her breast with a touch she had never felt before and couldn't ignore. The hands massaged as the mouth twirled magic around her nipple with the fire-tipped tongue. She was sickened by her own pleasure but she couldn't move to fight them any more. Mae's big, thick tongue poked in and out of her cunt tirelessly like a perpetual prick driven by a motor. She felt the hard little organ begin to throb and pulsate, begging for the attention of that warm tongue in Mae's mouth. Tommie's hands were driving her crazy too, touching, caressing, pulling at her body while the warm lips kept up their spell over her nipples. It was madness!
She tried to convince herself that her pleasure was from the fact that they couldn't do any more than they were doing. They couldn't hurt her! They couldn't ram any hard cocks into her to rip her open and shoot seed deep into the crevices of her very soul. It wasn't true, she realized with a choking sob! She didn't care if they rammed her or not! She didn't care what they did as long as the wonderful quivering of her body continued!
Mae's tongue found its way from the depth of her cunt and wrapped around the hungry nubbin. The relief she had so often realized the need for, came. Every part of her being went tense as the juices of her own passions poured into the waiting, anxious mouth of the Lesbian.
Tommie crunched down on her breast. The pain was sharp and sudden. Martie screamed in defense, quickly coming back to her senses but it was too late.
Tommie was over her face, snarling down at her.
"See, bitch, see! Yeah, you ain't no different from black cunt! You likes having your dainty, little slit gobbled up! Don't you play like no virgin to us!"
She slipped away, turning her body in the motion and came back, this time with her gaping, black slit right above Martie's face. "You going to eat me now like Mae ate you! How you like that? I'm going to drop in your face and suffocate you, bitch!" The steel hands were on each side of her head as the stench of the woman came down against her open, screaming mouth. Martie felt the wet, rubbery lips rubbing against her nose and chin, then pressed down over her teeth. She wouldn't part her teeth! She wouldn't do it! Never!
Oh, dear God! Forgive me. What have I done? Oh, please help me! I can't be becoming like them! Help me ... help me....
"Screw her down there again! Make her open her rotten mouth!" Tommie cried hoarsely. Mae grinned evilly into the darkness. "I'll screw her, you hot mother! Just give me a chance to cool my tongue a minute!" Whatever a minute was to her, passed quickly. Martie felt the invasion of the tongue again in the same, hypnotic motion. She squirmed away but it followed, even more persistent than the first time. Tommie began a grinding movement over her mouth, no longer caring whether she opened it or not. The heat of her lips and pressure of her teeth were getting through to the black woman. The excitement of oral rape went trembling through her body just as she knew it would. There was something far more stimulating about forced sex than there was in lying around with another, just as bent on delight. Her dark lids dropped over her eyes heavily as her mind wandered through the muck of her desires.
The weight and movement was too much. Martie was fighting for air! She couldn't breathe! Her head jerked to the side in spite of the hands. She gulped for air but Tommie caught her chance to feel Martie's tongue in her cunt. Her hands forced Martie's chin down and held it there so she couldn't clamp her teeth shut again. It was all over! The woman was panting in ecstasy while droplets of her cream oozed into Martie's aching mouth.
She fell aside, laughing and grabbing her crotch. "OOOOWWWEEE! Is that white mouth ever hot!" The words knifed into Martie's consciousness like blades bringing a crimson she could feel to her cheeks.
Mae raised up and joined the laughter. "Where did you put the gadget?" she asked when he chortling mirth simmered down.
"I tossed it over there, but let me have a bite to eat first, okay? Screwing like that makes me hungry!"
She wormed down and filled the vacancy Mae left behind as she groped around in the darkness looking for the gadget she had spoken of. The silhouette of Mae's body was plain against the curtainless window. Martie's eyes bulged with fear. She was fastening something onto her! Oh Jesus! It looked like a prick! It was a prick! An artificial contraption that left no doubt in Martie's mind what it would be used for. The sight was outrageous. A naked woman, large-boned, large-breasted with a huge prick sticking out in front of her and her fondling it like it was real!
The fear of what was coming erased any pleasure she might have felt at the mercy of Tommie's tongue. Her screams were so loud and pitiful that even Josh started howling again. He had lain quietly, whining only now and then but he couldn't stand it any more. She could hear him choking and gasping for air as he tried to tear away from the confining rope.
"Oh, no, Josh, no! Don't hurt yourself! Josh!"
The door banged open and Steece entered as if on cue. He stalked to the dog and grabbed it up in his arms. "I told you I'd kill this son-of-a-bitch if you gave us any trouble! Goddamn you, you just don't believe, do you?"
She watched, mesmerized, unable to believe what was happening. Her dog! He was going to kill Josh! She was too dumfounded to speak until the door slammed shut and then her words were muffled by long, gasping sobs of despair.
"I bet she's crying 'cause she's got that dog trained to lap her cunt! What you bet, Mae?"
Tommie barely raised her lips from her juicy delight while she addressed the other woman.
"Sure she does ... all them high-class white bitches that want to act out as pure girls, keeps a dog around. You ever noticed how well they take care of 'em? Yeah, they takes 'em to the dog beauty shops and haves 'em bathed and scented and feeds 'em better than you and I ever ate!" She tugged with the last of the straps around her body and touched the menacing-looking instrument again gingerly to be certain that it was secure. "Well, she won't have long to lament! When I stick this here thing in her, she'll forget there ever was any joy in that mutt's tongue!"
Tommie, angry that Martie was too caught up in her grief to respond at all, gave her a sharp bite on the clit before relinquishing her prize.
Martie's eyes rolled with pain as she tried to jerk her hand to the wounded area, forgetting the ropes. The gash on her wrist popped open and a small, warm trickle of blood crept down her arm.
Mae straddled her stomach and inched down slowly. Her big hands were beating out some sort of lustful rhythm on the pearly tits of the white girl while the hateful false prick trailed downward.
All the praying, all the wishing to die, all the braced preparations were for nothing. The big woman separated her sore, puffy lips and rammed the cock in to the hilt. It was half again as long as any of the men's and much fatter. Martie felt herself going into the blackness but not until her flesh was ripped and bleeding from the pummeling Mae was administering. She pumped like she had been born a man instead of a woman, and the sounds escaping her full, vulgar mouth were every bit as genuine as if it had been her own flesh and blood she was thrusting with. Tommie made cat-calls and coarse remarks that never reached past the first layer of Martie's sensitivities.
What they did after she fainted, Martie never wanted to know. She only knew they were still there when she woke up, hours later, curled around her like snakes and snoring with exhaustion.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Her grief for Josh produced an almost drugged state in her, so Steece never bothered to tell her he hadn't killed the dog. She seemed to go into a trance after that night with the Lesbians. She stopped yelling almost entirely. She no longer fought them when they loosened her to take her to the toilet. And the scene at feeding time was fantastic! It was like she was paying some sort of homage to the memory of her dead companion. They didn't even have to use the rope around her neck any more or coax her to the pile of horsemeat. She tumbled willingly to the floor and gathered herself up on all fours, snarling and making growling sounds in her throat the way Josh did whenever they finally let him eat. She took the meat into her mouth in huge gulps in the exact manner of a starved animal.
Richie seemed to enjoy watching her eat in this manner almost as much as he enjoyed taking her body. He went wild with insane laughter, holding his hot prick between dirty fingers and stripping it like mad, all the while she ate. Steece never could figure that out, but what did he care if the kid received some extra thrill? His big problem was getting her to crave black meat. She took them without comment but that wasn't what he wanted.
According to a treasury of books, owned by one of his acquaintances, lent out for a dollar a day, there was a way to bring girls like Martie down to the brink of nymphomania and beyond. One of them told about a girl that was captured and tormented until she was nothing but a massive cry for cock, and that's what he had in mind for his beautiful, white bitch! Righ now she was nothing more than a frigid wife. She allowed them to use her without fight, but it was done strictly out of duty and nothing more. There was no satisfaction there! Those other two pig-heads might be content with her as she was but not Steece! No, there had to be a way to get through to her. He would find it!
And he did, quite by accident. Josh had been tied away from her in the cellar. He didn't know why he hadn't killed him, he just hadn't. Maybe because he was a black dog, who knows? He hadn't given the pooch much thought. Richie fed and tended him if he was fed at all. It wasn't until he heard Martie crying out in her sleep that he began to give any thought to the dog in the cellar but when he did, it came as a tremendous, crashing brainstorm.
He listened outside the door, cracking it just enough to see that she was alone and obviously having a nightmare. For a moment he thought Carver might be in there with her, the way she was howling and carrying on.
The nightmares were a curse! Martie fought sleeping now with the same kind of fear with which she'd fought the black men in the beginning. The first few she had were nothing compared to the ones since they killed Josh and she couldn't bear them! Her body would go absolutely numb with fatigue before sleep could drag her into its black depths.
She struggled now, unmindful of the pain around her wrists and ankles. It was only a hint of the torture her mind was locked in. And the dreams were always the same! She was always suspended in dark nothingness, completely alone except for the faraway whining and muffled voices. It was Josh! Not really Josh but his ghost, a bodiless creature with a voice and the other voices were of people he had brought to help her but they couldn't find her! And she kept screaming out to them, calling, beseeching them to approach her, but their voices kept trailing off in other directions, never toward her. Finally they would fade altogether, leaving only the sound of Josh surrounding her. The low, pitiful whining, the snarling growling sounds he used to make when he wanted to help her and couldn't; and then there would be only eyes. Josh's pain-filled eyes, thousands of them, gleaming through the darkness, unattached to anything and all glued to her.
She couldn't stand the look in them! The blame! Yes, past the woe, the sorrow, the helplessness was a shadow of blame! He blamed her for his death!
Unaware of Steece's prying eyes, Martie reached out for wakefulness and gasped her relief. The eyes were gone! Oh, God, if only she didn't have to sleep! "Please Josh, please, leave me alone. I'm ... I'm sorry ... I couldn't help it ... I ... I'm sorry Josh ... oh, God, I am sorry Josh! I loved you so!" She cried her torments aloud and it was then that Steece knew how to accomplish his goal!
He ran back into the room he shared with Carver and Richie and plotted out the whole ghastly plan, holding up his hand to silence them whenever they started to interrupt him. He made them hear him out and when he finished, Carver was shaking his head admiringly.
"You sure can think 'em up, can't you Steece! I mean you sure know what to do! How did you think up all this stuff, man? You going to drive that bitch clear out of her mind with this!" Even Richie was enthused, his wide mouth gaping with a half-smile, half-smirk expression.
Steece unraveled the rest of his idea and then sent Richie to bring the dog up. "Muzzle him and feed him. I don't want her to hear him until I'm ready. Don't bring him up here whining, you hear?"
Steece came into the room, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes bugged out like he had seen a ghost or something even worse. "I tell you, I gave that dog enough poison to kill three dogs! I don't understand it! Man, I just don't know what happened!"
Martie became very attentive as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "What you talking about, man? I saw you put that stuff in his food! You gotta be mistaken!" Carver joined in mysteriously.
"I tell you, goddamn it, the dog ain't down there! Don't you just stand there calling me a liar! Go look for yourself! There ain't no trace of him or a corpse ... go on, see for yourself!"
Carver's eyes rolled with mock fright. "I ain't going down there. I knows that dog is dead! If he ain't there, he's somewhere round here like a ghost or something, that's what! No siree, I ain't going down there!"
"What you looking at, bitch? Who told you, you could listen in on our private conversation? Lay your filthy head back down and shut your gaping mouth before I ram my cock into it!" Steece made a menacing move toward the bed but Martie couldn't-obey him. Josh was still alive! She knew it! That's what the nightmares had been trying to tell her! He was alive ... sick maybe, but alive!
Tears ran down her cheeks, uncontrolled. She was laughing! Crying! What did it matter? Josh got away! He would get help to her! They looked so ridiculous standing there staring at her like she was mad but she didn't care. Let them do whatever they wanted now! Help would come. It had to!
Steece frowned at her. "The bitch is crazy! I tell you, she and that dog are both crazy! I kill him and he disappears! She hears about him being a ghost or something and goes into hysterics! I tell you Carver, we have to be careful around her now. She's mad!"
"Yeah, well, you can be all the careful you want but I feel like fucking and she can't do much all tied up like that!" He slid out of his baggy trousers and licked his lips in anticipation as he walked to the bed.
His belly practically hid the vile organ sticking out from under it but somehow, to Martie, it didn't look as horrible as before. Nothing seemed as horrible now that she had a shred of hope to cling to. She shuddered as he crawled up beside her, his filthy hands roaming the contours of her body as he grunted his lust moans into her ear.
Fighting them and yelling is what got Josh into trouble, and she vowed she would do whatever they demanded of her now to make up for it. If he was out there somewhere, sick and hurting and still trying to get help back to her, that was the least she could do!
Her own wounds were practically healed now or maybe just numb. She could take the terrors they dished out if it would buy time for Josh. They mustn't go out searching for him! She must keep them busy enough to give him a chance to recuperate and get to The Cup!
His thick lips came grating down over hers, tongue racing frantically inside her mouth as if he expected her to respond. Well, she would!
Her mind went blank as she had learned to make it go and she let her tongue meet his with the same hot lust. He paused, stunned at her sudden change of reaction, then fumbled tormentingly with her tits. He couldn't seem to get enough of her! He left her mouth and slobbered down her neck to the hard, pink tips of her globes, devouring them alternately as though he might never get another chance like that!
Steece leaned against the dresser and smiled hatefully. He read her tortured thoughts. It was working! It was working just like he hoped it would! The dumb slut believed the dog had somehow escaped and was out looking for help! She would do anything to buy time for him, and Steece intended to use her willingness to achieve his goal.
"Man, get off that bitch! We got to go out looking for that mutt before he brings the law down on us! He ain't dead, that's for sure or his old stinky body would be down in that cellar right now!"
His hand came down on Carver's shoulder with a jerk. "Man! Don't you hear me? I said we got to go out looking for that dog!"
Carver raised his mouth away from the quivering tit and glared back up at Steece. "You go find him. Motherfucker! This bitch is fucking back!" He buried himself in her abundant boobs and ignored Steece's parting remark.
Neither Martie nor Carver heard the door as it closed quietly or Steece's low laughter outside of it. He didn't really know why he had such a desire to see her insane but he did. The girls in the books always ended up losing their senses and it appealed to him, especially if they where white! and Martie was WHITE! He'd fix her so no man, white or black would ever marry her, and she would never bear any white children to sneer at him or his race again! He went into the room where Richie waited with a very woeful-looking Josh.
"It's a good thing you're a black dog, old buddy! That's all that saved your hide, you know!" He bent down to rub Josh's ears but even behind the muzzle, the snarling growl was enough to ward off the black man's show of attention. "Fuck you, then! You'll learn to act or you will die, black or not!" He turned to Richie and gave him a wink. "She ate the story up, man, just like I said. Poor old Carver's in there now trying to keep up with her."
The blank expression changed only enough to let a small grin of stupidity show through. He didn't really understand how all this could change the girl but if Steece and Carver said it would, that was enough for him. He didn't care if she changed or not as long as he was allowed to jab her ass whenever he wanted and so far, there hadn't been any restraints put upon him. When they weren't fucking her, they were lying around soaring through a trip on the pills she had provided for them with the use of her body to those gay bitches. Life was wonderful, just as it was, as far as Richie Cooper was concerned!
Carver pulled himself away from the pleasures of her big, twitching boobs and looked down at the rest of her body. "The way you squirming around, I bet you'd like it if I untied your legs, wouldn't you, white trash! Yeah, I think I'll just do that!"
His hands were quick to loosen the knots and Martie was quick to take advantage of the chance to stretch the kinks out of her legs. Maybe cooperating with them had some rewards for her too! The glory of just being able to move her legs without those goddamn ropes cutting holes into her flesh, made her let out a sigh of pleasure.
Carver grinned down lecherously. "I knew it!" He scurried down to position himself between her long, slender, white thighs, grabbing under her ass in the gesture. He pulled her up to meet his tongue and ground out a tempo against her tired little clit that made her want to cry out with need. It was the first time since that Lesbian bitch had made her climax, that she even felt the urge. The justification of doing it for Josh, turned her on. Her ass arched up, out of his hands as she pushed her cunt harder against the promise of that hot tongue. Carver wasted no time pondering over her act. He knew what she wanted and was as eager to give it to her! He let his tongue waggle down into the heat of her sex, teasing her a moment longer, then began the long, hard, drawing of the throbbing miniature prick into his mouth.
Martie's lips parted sensuously as she let go completely. Her legs, like vipers, snaked around Carver's bobbing head and held him tight while she cut free the rivers of relief. Her own animalistic sound surprised her as she found herself wanting more and struggling to keep his attention going.
Whatever had snapped within, when she heard that Josh was alive, seemed to free her from any moral bonds. Her mind darted back only for a moment but the pulsing needs of her body recaptured her attention promptly. She had fought long enough! It was out of her hands and she would soon be free anyway ... as soon as Josh found help. No use in continuing the battle. They might just get tired of her stubbornness and kill her like they tried to do Josh! No, she had to stay alive now! She wanted to see them all hanging at the end of a long, black rope!
Carver finally untangled himself from the firm, encircling legs and mounted her, shoving his charging cock into the wet heat of her cunt. Martie gasped as the first shock of entry flooded through the dormant pain.
"Fuck back, bitch! Fuck back or I'll tie your legs again!" His voice rasped near her ear. It was like a magnet. The pain subsided but instead of the numbness she usually willed herself to feel, she felt the long, tingling shaft caressing the insides of her canal. She tightened the muscles of her cunt and trembled with the added ecstasy the little pressure made.
"You hot bitch! You white, fucking bitch! So, all this time you wanted it too, huh? All this time you were playing games with us?" His cruel laughter only added to the lust creeping around in her veins. If only she could grab around him with her arms and press him closer! If only he would screw her deeper. She opened her mouth to scream out her desires but he covered it with his own and she felt the release of his fire spurting into her belly.
No ... no ... not yet ... not yet, you black fucker! She would have cried aloud but his mouth still closed over hers as he groaned out his hideous joy--
Her cunt was begging for more meat, deeper grinds, another span of exaltation. What was happening to her?
Carver rolled over, thoroughly spent and happily exhausted. "Just wait till Steece hears how you like fucking! Just ... wait...." He could hardly talk he was breathing so fast and hard, but Martie wasn't listening anyway. She was frantic over the strange way her body was controlling her mind. She had started out just doing it that way to buy time for herself and Josh. She had convinced herself it was to keep alive and watch them hang someday! But now! Now she was trembling with the same kind of wild desire she had seen them tremble with, and she was fighting the needs of her body! Her flesh was crawling with lust!
"Fuck me, Carver! Fuck me again you big, black bastard! You didn't make me do it! Oh, God, make me do it again!"
The burly black raised up weakly on his elbow and looked down at her in disbelief. Those were practically the first words she had spoken to any of them except for asking about the dog and crying out in the beginning for them to leave her alone.
"STEECE! STEECE!" He jumped off the bed and ran to the door without bothering to put on his pants. "STEECE! STEECE!" She could hear him yelling all the way down the hall to wherever he was going.
"Yes, get Steece," she whispered to herself.
"Get Steece, get Richie, get someone that can come in here and fuck me until I get rid of this ache!"
CHAPTER NINE
Steece grabbed Carver and slapped his hand over his mouth. "Cool it, man! You want everyone in the neighborhood over here?" He gave him a shove and shut the door to the room so there wouldn't be any chance of Martie overhearing them.
Carver was still waving his arms about frantically and trying to explain what had happened. "Man, she's in there begging for it! I swear it, Steece, she's crying for it, just like you said!"
"Well, it won't last. She'll get on her high horse again the minute she realizes what she's doing. That's why we've got to make her believe she's slipping her marbles. As soon as she's convinced she's off her rocker, nothing will stop her!" His face lit up with his own secret visions of her in that condition. Then he would really make her crawl! That's what he wanted! To see her crawling around like a mad dog, begging for black meat!
"We're going back in there but let me tell you guys something and you better listen hard! We're going in to tease! Nothing more! You understand?" He looked at Richie dubiously and decided to draw him a verbal picture.
"We going to touch her and lick her and make her all ready for what Carver here says she's screaming for, but we ain't going to let her have it!"
Richie looked up in dismay. "What you mean, we ain't going to let her have it? I thought that's what you wanted her for. I thought we was keeping her just to screw around with."
Steece shot Carver an exasperated look and began explaining all over again. He finally convinced the boy that all he had to understand was the fact that they weren't going to shove cock to her ... not yet, anyway. "I'll be right there watching you all the time so don't get any wild hairs up your ass or I'll tear your pecker out by the roots!"
Richie understood that. He followed them down to Martie's room, brooding silently.
She didn't open her eyes or turn her head to the door when they entered but Steece knew she was awake.
"I hear you want cock ... that right?" He walked over and tweaked her tit cruelly. The remorse had already set in. She was silent again.
"I bet if your hands were untied you'd have jabbed yourself crazy while Carver came running for us!"
How did he know? Did her thoughs transmit themselves now? Had she cried out her desires aloud?
She turned to face him, her eyes piercing him with the same cruel calmness his held for her.
"Seeing as how you seem to be all cooled down now, there ain't no use us hanging around." He turned to the others. "Come on, let's go find that dog!"
Martie bit her lip weighing her decision. They were almost to the door. "No! No! I'm not cool. I-I was resting, that's all, yeah, resting."
Steece reached out and grabbed Richie who had started toward her in his eagerness. "Wait! Man, you got something she wants! Make her ask you for it nicely! She's got to learn some manners! Whoever heard of a slave without the proper set of manners before its owners?"
"What was you resting for, bitch? Tell us about it! What you want? Huh? Tell us what you want!" His fingers snapped sharply, close to her ear. She couldn't do it! She couldn't say it!
"Fuck you! Let's go!" He stalked out of the room with Carver, still naked, and Richie, behind him.
The door slammed with a note of finality that left Martie sobbing. "Get a rope. If poison won't do him in, we'll hang his filthy neck when we find him!" She could hear Steece's voice trailing off down the hall.
"We got any pills left?" Steece asked nonchalantly.
"Pills? What you talking about, pills? Ain't we going to play with Missy Uppity in there?"
Steece stopped dead in his tracks at Carver's inquiry.
"No."
Richie looked at Carver and shrugged his shoulders stupidly. His prick was swollen and rubbing against the tightness of his jeans but he knew better than to add his two cents worth.
"No," Steece repeated slowly. "We'll just hang tight and see what happens. I'm going to turn that dog loose down the hall as soon as it gets dark. Let her get a load of his whining for a while. That'll bring her around."
"I don't understand what it is you're trying to do, Steece. I thought I did but maybe I just as dumb as Richie here."
Goddamn fools! Both of them! No wonder they never took anything but shit from the whites all their stupid lives. They don't know a good thing when they have one going! "Look, you guys just quit trying to understand. Okay? Just let me do the thinking for all of us till I get this idea in full swing. Maybe then you'll get the picture. Now, like I said, do we have any pills left?"
They were whispering but now Carver said in a normal tone. "Yeah, come on." If he couldn't have another round at her, he might as well settle for the next best thing. He looked around the room for something to cover his nakedness. "Left my damned drawers in with her."
"Well, you ain't going in after them, that's for sure! Put something else on and get me some stuff." Steece flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind was blown enough without pills these days. Having that white cunt in there at his beck and call was beyond any of his wildest imaginings, but it was happening. It would happen yet! He'd have her wrapped so tight around his big, black finger, she wouldn't dare fart without asking his permission!
The freedom of her legs was little comfort as the door shut and left her alone. Her flesh was still quivering with need, a need she hadn't been able to bring herself to admit aloud to Steece. That much pleased her but the agony in her gut was still there even though she hadn't given him the satisfaction of hearing about it.
Every time she thought about Carver's flabby, hulking body, she remembered his hot tongue and the rewards of it. There was no way to deny she had wanted him, even when he quit licking her and jammed into her with his fat, ugly cock! She had wanted that too! For Josh? Oh, God! Yes! It had to be! Why else would she let them do the things they did and cry for more? She shook with revulsion. The room reeked with nauseating odors and her own body was more than she could stand! Her baths had consisted of not much more than buckets of cold water thrown over her. No soap, no scrubbing, no shampoo!
Now that she thought Josh was alive, she sought relief in sleep again. Surely the nightmares wouldn't be back now that she knew of their significance! Before them, sleep had been the only soothing balm she had to attend the wounds of her mind. Suddenly she was very tired. The strain of her grief and her plight let loose, flooding her body with fatigue.
Afternoon shadows crept around the room, growing darker, as she slept. Twilight swept them out and made room for night and Steece smiled as he peeked in on her. Even the stench of the room and the filth on her body couldn't mar the vision he saw. A blonde wench, young and lovely, tied and on the brink of total submission and, best of all, she belonged to him!
He rubbed his hands together as a gesture of satisfaction and went back to the room for Josh. Getting the mongrel to whimper would be no trouble once he caught Martie's scent, but getting her to believe it was only her imagination might might prove more difficult. It was a matter of time and Steece had plenty of that.
Josh ran down the hall, the long rope trailing behind him, thinking only of finding his mistress.
The week of separation hadn't dulled his memory as to where she was and he raced toward the door of her room eagerly. Steece held the other end in his hand, giving only enough slack for Josh to make it to within a few feet of his destination.
The sharp jerk brought Josh to his haunches. The tight muzzle restricted him to the whining, whimpering sounds Steece wanted. If only he could see her face when she heard that mutt on the other side of the door! He pulled the rope back against the reluctance at the other end and shoved Josh into the room with Carver and Richie.
The floor boards in the old building creaked terribly but there was a way of walking that eliminated most of the noise. Steece crept up as quietly as he could and listened outside Martie's door.
It wasn't hard to visualize what was going on inside. Steece leaned against the wall, smiling as he listened to her hysterical outbreak.
When she first heard the sounds, she thought the nightmare was back. She had cried out, trying to wake up but she realized, with sudden clarity, that she was awake! It wasn't a nightmare!
"Josh! Oh, Josh, is that you?" It can't be him! They are out there looking for him! It can't be Josh! It mustn't be! They'll kill him! "Run Josh, run!"
Steece's words came back like a knife. "Maybe he is running around like a ghost ... I gave him enough poison to kill three dogs ... there ain't no corpse in that celler ... I tell you, he's gone!"
She had barely convinced herself that she was actually hearing something when the whining was gone. There was nothing but silence beyond the door. Confusion and terror stalked hand in hand through her disoriented mind as she screamed first for Josh to come in, then for him to run!
Steece grabbed the door handle and slammed into the room. "What the hell is all this yelling about? Goddamn you! You'll wake up everybody in the block!"
Her eyes were round with fright as he brought his hand up to slap her. Josh couldn't have been outside or Steece would have seen him! But she had heard him! She wasn't asleep! It wasn't the nightmare!
"Answer me, goddamn you! I said what's all this yelling about!" Her head reeled with the force of the blow as he connected again with his hand.
If it was Josh and Steece hadn't seen him ... She burst into laughter, wild and hysterical.
"You think something's funny, bitch?" He stepped back and surveyed her a moment. He wasn't sure what step was next. The books were always vague. One thing sure, he didn't see much sense in roughing her up when his cock was screaming for action. The slapping didn't seem to be getting through to her anyhow. Maybe a good fucking would!
He went over and kicked the door shut and locked it from the inside. He was out of his trousers before he got back to the bed. Martie watched him in a sort of daze. Everything was happening too fast. Her mind wasn't sorting out the fantasy from the real! He was jerking her legs back to the bedpost and winding the ropes around them again. Just the touch of the ropes made her cringe with remembered pain.
"You want to yell, I'll give you something to yell about!" He scooted into the cove between her thighs and ground his finger into the damp orifice.
Screw me you fool! Do whatever you want! I heard Josh! I know he's alive! Go, Josh, go! Martie moaned beneath her breath as the coarse finger raked back and forth into her. The goddman fool thought he was so smart! Yeah! He was smart all right! Josh had come and gone right under his arrogant, black nose!
"Carver said you liked fucking ... yeah, he said he had a hard time keeping up with you, you dirty, white bitch! What's the matter, ain't my finger big enough for you?" His eyes were narrow slits of hate as he scoffed and chided her. "Quite talking again, huh? Well, that's good 'cause I never heard a white bitch yet that had anything worthwhile listening to!"
He pulled his hand back and rested it on her thigh. He was hurting her. As long as he was hurting her, there would be no chance of making her scream for him. He leaned over her body, until his face was only inches from hers.
"I heard you yelling to that mutt of yours! I heard what you were saying! Yeah, and I'll tell you something else!" His voice was almost like a snarl. "That dog is gone! He's gone and left you right here and you might as well get that through your head! Ain't no dog that can survive what I gave him! He's run off somewhere to die and you never going to see him again! Him or any of your big-mouthed, white friends!"
She wanted to laugh in his face. She wanted to scream out to him that Josh had just been there, right outside her door. She wanted to reach up and claw his handsome, black face but the ropes held her back. There was nothing to do but wait. Wait. Josh wouldn't let her down. Hadn't he come back to let her know?
Steece studied her face intently, trying to figure out what sort of impact his words had made, but Martie turned away expressionless. If only those goddamn books would bother to go into more detail! Well, one thing for sure, Carver said he had her squirming and if Carver could do it, it was a certainty that he could!
He bowed back away from her head and placed his big hands on either side of her hips. "Look at the greedy little gash! Just begging for someone to shove a tongue in it, isn't it? Isn't it? You sure like having a tongue slipping through your nasty slit, don't you?" He hands moved closer to her sex, the fingers snaking out and separating the fleshy treat.
Martie's breath caught sharply in her throat. Every pain, every discomfort of her body, every desire to fight him off, disappeared with his crude words and the gender touch near her vagina. It was like an invisible enemy, this thing with her flesh! The moment he mentioned tongue, the nerve center in the V of her crotch began to tingle! Her involuntary anticipation of pleasure mingled bitterly with her self-revulsion. What was she becoming? Had the Lesbian turned on some secret force within her, some hateful drive for perversion? They were crude and vulgar, despicable and full of hate for her and yet, it seemed, that they need only speak of touching her intimate parts with their tongues and her morality abandoned her. She strained against the ropes to bring her legs together but it was useless. She was as helpless against him as she seemed to be against her own cursed desires!
Steece caught the small expression of hopeless despair and noted the slight movement of her legs to protect herself. Yes, she was beginning to weaken. Carver was right!
"Fuckin' white bitch! You sure like to pretend, don't you?" he lowered his head teasingly, just enough to let her feel the heat of his breath on the trembling gully at his fingertips. She bit her lip, stifling a low outcry of disappointment.
Steece caught that too. He teased long, watching the labored reactions of her body. Her head tipped back as she fought with the desire to shout out at him to do it. He mustn't know how much she needed that! He mustn't know anything about how she felt! Oh, God! Her shame mocked her from the corners of her mind!
How could this be happening to her? She hated everything about them, about the room, the stench of it and the horrible, degrading position she was in constantly! When she was alone, just thinking about any one of them made chills creep over her! How could her body betray her so, the moment one of them bowed between her legs with a fire-hot tongue?
Steece took his time moving in over the tight little clit. His hands were ever-present crawling things, over her stomach, under her ass and around her thighs. She could feel herself arching up to touch his brushing lips but she couldn't help it. He was driving her to the depths of need!
Slowly, the tongue curled around the erect little nubbin of flesh. Martie gasped as a shudder of passion coursed through her. He had teased so long, she almost climaxed at that first brief contact. Steece drew his head back and looked up at her. "You like that, white bitch? You like having ol' Steece tongue you, huh?" She turned away from him. He darted back to the wet Utopia and drew her sex into his warm mouth, punctuating his motions with long, sucking movements. Martie's ass strained upward again, this time without thought to what was happening or why. It was happening! That was enough! She couldn't think back or beyond the moment!
His great, hot body panted between her legs and she watched through passion-glazed eyes, afraid he might move away, afraid he would not fulfill her. Horrible grunting sounds came from her mouth and throat as her lust spiraled through the intricate circles of desire, the moment of her release coming closer and closer.
Steece jerked away again and loomed above her. Her face contorted in the agonies of disappointment. She would beg now! He reared back, balancing on his knees and gathered his enormous rod into his pumping hands. The attention he was giving her was having its effects on his own passion. Her eyes opened slowly, painfully almost and she focused them on the evil black man with a combination of hate and need. He smiled down at her contemptuously. "What the fuck are you looking at? Haven't you seen a black prick before? Huh? What do you want?"
She couldn't stand the pain in her stomach. She had to have him finish her off! He must!
"You want more, bitch? Didn't I do a good job? You want more? Tell Steece about it, bitch! Say it! Say, I want more, Steece, I want more!"
Her mind closed as she opened her mouth and repeated the words. She couldn't look at him.
"What do you want more of, bitch? Tell me!"
"You know what I want!" she hissed back impatiently.
"Yeah, you want tongue! Say it!"
Martie felt tears stinging her eyes as a vision of herself passed through her mind. "Yes, yes, I want tongue! Give it to me!"
He turned his head so she couldn't see his look of triumph. "We'll see how bad you want tongue!" He turned around and mounted her body, his great prick dangling above her head. She jerked sideways to avoid it but Steece acted as though he hadn't noticed. He went back to the pit of her passion and began the arduous teasing game again, sure that when she could no longer stand the strain, she would accommodate him of her own volition.
Martie closed her eyes and tried to ignore the scent of man hovering over her. It was a ghastly smell! Sweat and sex!
He grabbed the lips of her well roughly and pulled them wide while he drove home with his unruly tongue. It was in! Out! Around! Over! It was everywhere! He triggered it back and forth into the small opening of her cunt and lapped it across the nervous, pulsating tidbit of clit until she could stand no more! If her hands had been free, she would have grabbed around his hips and pulled him to her but she couldn't! She moved her head under him and tried to raise up to meet his prick. A dark hand flashed between them as he reached to guide it into her gaping mouth. The books were right! She was becoming a sex-monger, ready to do anything to achieve her own fulfillment! He felt her tongue snaking around the blood-engorged head of his shaft, lacing back at him with the same sort of teasing he was doling out to her. He dipped down and screwed her royally with his tongue as she gobbled him up, drinking in the juices he hadn't meant to lose so quickly. He would have to learn to control himself, to make it last longer but she was so red-hot and ready for him!
Her body was still shuddering as he turned and scooted upward. She gagged as he slid the flabby hunk of meat back into her mouth and brought his weight down over her to keep it in place. "Fix it! Make it grow again and I might do something nice to you!"
With the moment of glory past, the sordidness came back with full force upon her awareness. His black, sweaty body seemed to swim above her, suffocating her. And the shame! This growing creature of shame that had come to live within her, wouldn't let her think past the vileness! What sort of animal was she becoming? She tried to squirm away from him, tears of humiliation cascading down her cheeks. She had betrayed herself to him. Now he thought she wanted him to do this sort of thing! Oh, God!
CHAPTER TEN
A week passed. Martie was lost in the abyss of shame and fear, only her fear was changing course. The horror of the days with Richie and Carver and the long, humiliating nights with Steece were real ... something she could hate and fight but her own feelings, they were something else again. They were something she couldn't even bear to think about! But she did think about them. She reasoned and rationalized but the facts remained and it was the facts that frightened her! She seemed to need, to enjoy the treatment she was receiving at their hands! Especially Steece! His hard cruelty, his measured torments of her body! Everything about him was like a drug to her ... she craved it!
Steece never changed unless, perhaps, his hatred of her race became more vivid with each visit to her room. He left her completely to Richie and Carver during the day and this was something she didn't understand either. Why? Why were the nights turning into such jungles?
The whining outside her door, the nightmares that seemed to come whether she was awake or sleeping and Steece, always Steece! What was happening to her?
He talked about Josh often and it bugged her. Somewhow, it didn't seem real any more. Her desire to be rescued wasn't real any more ... or was it?
Steece told her they stumbled over Josh's dead carcass in an alley a few blocks away, but that couldn't be true. He had to be lying! Every night she could hear the soft, pitiful sounds or whining and snarling outside the door! Didn't anyone else hear it? How could he come and go without one of them seeing him and why was he coming? Why he came, why he didn't go for help; these were questions Martie couldn't answer but she held tight to one thing: he was alive! Maybe he was still too weak to go for help. Maybe he was trying to let her know that he hadn't abandoned her. And then there was another possibility ... she was going mad! Josh was dead and the sounds were being manufactured in her imagination out of her intense need to believe she still wanted help!
"I heard you in here last night raving to that goddamn mutt of yours ... telling him to go after your friends!" Steece laughed hoarsely. "You think a ghost can get you some help? Even if he wasn't dead, he would have forotten about you! You don't think he'd come back here, do you? After the way we fed him? Ha!" His eyes narrowed as he approached her. "Besides, he was black! Think about that for a while! Black is black and white is white! Yeah, your dog was black, and he knew it!"
The deep circles under her eyes seemed to darken as he spoke. She tried not to look at his mouth or the slow, gradual rise beneath his trousers.
Steece circled the bed and looked at her critically. "You're sure not the pretty, uppity white lady we brought in here three weeks ago. I ought to whore your ugliness out and make myself a couple bucks while there are still a few willing fools to pay the price."
Martie watched him fearfully as he leaned over and slapped her thigh. "Getting skinny, too. Maybe Steece ought to do something about that. Maybe I ought to go and and buy you some real food. How would you like that? Yeah, maybe you're getting a little tired of horsemeat!" He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked to the window.
The silence was more terrifying than his constant chiding. Whenever Steece was silent, Martie could be sure he was thinking up some new way to shame her.
She didn't realize her own silence was partially to blame for his contempt. For a moment she let her mind stray to the food he had mentiooned and her stomach growled its approval. It hardly seemed possible that there was another way of life, that there were people walking about on the streets, that there were homes filled with love and warmth and children, kitchens smelling of good things to eat. She tried to remember what a hamburger tasted like, fried crisp and nestled between toasted buns on a plate with french fries and a salad. And milk. What was that like?
Steece crossed back over to her, a sneering smile pasted over his lips. "You fuck Steece good ... you yell for Steece and maybe Steece will get you some real food." He mounted the bed between her outstretched legs and leaned back to untie the ropes at her ankles. "There, I'll give you an even break."
Martie watched as he wormed himself into the position she craved most. He was bowing on his knees, bending over her swollen love box but his cruel eyes were on her face. She knew her expression betrayed her desires and tried to move her legs closer together in her embarrassment. The rotten bastard! If he wasn't talking about the way Josh had run out on her, he was taunting her with some new meanness like this thing with food. If only she could control her own body! If only all the hate and contempt she felt for him would not flee the moment he began touching her. His dark head lowered until she could feel his breath brushing across the dainty patch of pubic hair. She strained against the ropes at her arms but they were tight and cut into her flesh, bringing a gasp to her lips.
"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" His voice broke through her pain and he began his art of expert teasing.
She watched the muscles in his shoulders twitch as he dropped back down, this time parting the fleshy folds of her vagina with his fingers to make space for his hot-sweet tongue. Every ounce of morality screamed at her to cry out against his advance but her body, like a robot whore, moved mechanically to meet him. She remembered the pet phrase at The Cup, "think love," and tried the reversal of it but the words wouldn't stay before her eyes. Pain, shame, hurt, bewilderment, hate, all of them vanished as the tongue probed her most sensitive organ. The lust monster moved within her groin, blacking out everything else!
A voice, strange to her own ears, yet still hers, was crying out but not in protest and she sickened at the sound of it, but that wasn't the worst of her torments! Steece no longer obliged her! He took her nightly to the crest of a climax, a climax the others left her in such bad need of, then left her moaning for relief! Maybe tonight would be different! Maybe he would go all the way! Maybe he, too, was tired of the game!
Steece smiled to himself. He could feel her body go tense as it did every night now while she fought with the demon of passion, then surrendered only to find that the reward would be snatched from her. He dipped his tongue into the juicy orifice, flicking around to swipe off every trace of woman taste. She was delicious! If she only knew how difficult it was for him to stop! If she only could guess at the pain he was experiencing after he closed the door behind him ... how he would have to lean on the wall outside her door and gather strength and courage to move against the ripping apart of his guts as his own passions drove him wild ... how he had to masturbate in the privacy of the bathroom down the hall before he could go back into the room where the other two waited eagerly for his nightly report, all fabricated.
He told them only what they wanted to hear ... his topping of their own great conquests! That gave them something to work for the next day and that was what Steece wanted. He wanted them to put her through every vile and filthy ordeal they could think of and leave the shaming up to him. Neither of them knew or cared that they weren't satisfying her. All they wanted was their own perverse needs fulfilled. And the plan was working! Richie and Carver and that damned black mongrel; all of them were working for him without even knowing it! They were making it possible for him to be superior to her whenever he walked into that room! He was cold and calculating, never losing his cool and always ready with the right, sharp, verbal jab. Her undoing was a visible thing and it gave him more pleasure than her body, if that was possible. God, how he adored that shimmering, white body! How he would adore having her crawling around behind him on her hands and knees, begging him to jam his big, black cock into her! And she would!
He slipped upward, stroking her flesh as he made his way teasingly to the pink-bud tips of her pearly globes. Her head was tipped to the side, her mouth lax as though waiting for him to bellow the fire of her lust into a raging blaze.
The smile flickered over his face again. His hands cupped around one of her tits as he brought his teeth to the very tip sharply. She winced but made no move to stop his course. The pain was good. Everything was good to her right now. Steece knew the feeling. It was like the times he climbed on some broad that enjoyed raking his back with her nails. While the party was raging, he never felt the pain except as a heady additive to the intoxication of the moment and even afterwards, the searing currents on his flesh only reminded him of the moment past, the ecstasy of relief.
If she was ever going to beg and yell, she would do it now. He reared back and brought himself up to his knees, leaning over her slightly. His tongue whipped around his thick lips invitingly a few times before he opened his mouth to speak.
"If there's something you want, bitch, you got to learn to ask for it. You got to learn to be real polite and ask ... hear that? Polite! You got to remember to say 'please' and 'thank you' and one more thing, don't forget the 'sir'. You ain't going to get anything without you put that 'sir' onto whatever you say! You understand?"
His breathing was hard and fierce, just like her own as he waited for her answer. Their eyes met and seemed to lock in a mutual bond of hatred. Even stretched out so awkwardly and dirty as she was, she was extremely beautiful and more so because she was white and forbidden. Steece fought to hush the urgency of the beating of his heart. He wanted her, but it had to be on his terms! He had tired of forced rape. He wanted, more than anything else he had ever wanted, to hear her calling him ... to hear her calling, "Steece, Steece sir, please fuck me! Do it sir ... please sir ... please...." His eyes closed as he tried to visualize what it would be like.
Martie watched him closely. His hard, labored breathing seemed to be marching in rhythm with her own great gushes of pain and need. At first he thought he was only imagining what he heard. His eyes popped open and he stared down at her.
"Steece, sir ... lick me ... do it ... fuck me ... sir, please...." Her voice went on and on. It was like once her mouth opened against the beliefs of her soul, she couldn't stop the flowing of obscenity. Tears of shame ran down her cheeks as the echo of her voice penetrated through her desires, but the words kept coming, the words he wanted.
He was on her like a leech, his great body moving over her in complete abandonment. She tugged at the ropes but they held her fast and she cried out against them. Steece hesitated in his attack and peered into her eyes momentarily, then he fumbled quickly with the ropes, undoing each of them as a madman might do the final stirring of his concoction.
Martie's arms slashed through the air, glad for the relief, then she grappled for his magnificent body as he came down upon her. She felt her legs wrapping themselves around him, pulling him in. His lips sucked at her breasts but she shoved his head downward ... downward to the cove of her need, and he went willingly. She loosened her legs until he was nestled into the furry blonde patch of hair, then reclosed them around his head as if never to let him free. The long, hot tongue began the journey into her being. Martie gasped and yelled the ugly jargon she had learned from her captors. It was like a music from the depths of her tormented soul and it reached Steece's ears, matching his own thoughts and desires.
"Deeper ... ahhhh ... oh ... deeper, fuck me deeper ... sir ... eat me ... eat me ... more...."
Suddenly it hit Steece that he was doing her bidding. He raised up reluctantly and swung his body around, forcing himself over her face. The pain rushed through her body like a thousand knives. She knew she must do whatever he demanded or he wouldn't satisfy her. Her hands curled around the long, fat, black shaft and brought it to her lips. She gulped at it, instinctively afraid, then surprised as she found that she was enjoying the monstrous thing moving about inside her mouth. She reached around him, pressing him closer, sucking as hard as she could to get him going. Her groin was ripping apart with expectancy as he hovered above her, doing little more than letting her feel his breath against her. She had to have that tongue! Her own busied itself in making him as weak as she could and the rewards of her efforts flowed down into her throat. He moaned loudly and sank his weight against her face, darting down with his head to meet the demands her thrashing body announced. She splayed out her legs as far as she could and shuddered as he pulled the lips of her nest wide.
The first connection sent the hurricane of release through her organs and out the tiny, slit-like opening but Steece didn't stop and as he rode on, his organ, still idle in her mouth, came to life again. Martie wasted no time trying to rid herself of it but he held her fast to the spot and pumped both ends into her. She hardly finished trembling with the first climax before her body was rising to meet the challenge of another ... and another ... and another. When he finally rolled off, she was exhausted and wanted only sleep to carry her away to some safe abyss where shame could not follow. Steece had other ideas and did not hesitate to slap her into wakefulness again.
"You think I'm here for your pleasure, white trash?" He jerked her up by the hair of her head and sent a smashing blow into her cheek with his fist. "I ain't doin' you no favors! I want to fuck you! That is the reason I did ... not because you asked me to, you dumb bitch! Turn over! Turn over and stick your ass in the air!"
Martie curled herself in a ball and refused to do what he demanded. She couldn't stand another moment of his molesting now that her own passion was spent.
"You rotten, motherfucking, little whore! I said turn over!" He crashed a blow off the side of her ribs that sent her into a spasm of pain, but he didn't stop long enough to let her regain her breath before another pounding fist came down against her back. She turned and prostrated herself, trying to breathe. He was crazy! How could she have asked him to do those things to her? He would kill her someday, she was sure of that, and here she was begging for his attentions just like he told her to! Her body ached as he yanked her up, swinging her ass high and bowing into it with his steel lance. He missed the mark and jerked her up again. Cursing because of his first shot, he aimed this time for her ass and made the connection, fierce and heartless. Martie screamed out but he paid no attention. His loud groaning mewls echoed in her ears as he hammered her down further and further against the coarse mattress. The sounds of her own tormented voice were amplified in her ears as her screaming grew louder and louder.
Richie had stripped away the virginity of the sensitive area every time he got a chance, and now she found that after the first few savage thrusts, she was enjoying his attack almost as much as he was. Her body shuddered with a new kind of relief as Steece ejaculated into her bowels and fell upon her back, heavily and exhausted. Without moving from his position, he grabbed the ropes and bound them to her wrists. Then he slept. His weight grew heavier and heavier on her tired, ravaged frame. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, lax in his sleep and slid down her shoulder, nauseating her with the mental picture she drew of them.
Almost as though it had been on cue, Carver released the confused Josh from the room and held tightly to his leash as he had seen Steece do. He had orders to do it but he had gone to sleep and forgotten all about it. He hoped Steece wouldn't be pissed about it and hurried to carry it through in just the manner that had been described to him.
Martie opened her eyes and a gasp escaped from her lips when she heard the familiar sound outside the door. Steece mustn't hear it! She started moaning softly, hoping to cover the other sounds and relaxed a little when Steece didn't stir. Her bones felt like they were being crushed into sawdust, yet, she prayed he would not waken and move. Josh would be doomed for certain if Steece heard him!
Where did he go between the times he came to the door and how did he live? Her mind whirled with the questions she was haunted with every day and every night when he came to the door.
Suddenly, she had to know! She couldn't stand the shadow of insanity anymore! If Josh was out there, really out there, someone else had to hear him!
"Steece! Steece! Sir! Wake up! Wake up, sir!" She tried to tumble him off to one side by moving her own body but his weight and size were too great against her own smallness. She yelled again and this time brought a slight response. Her body arched up and down beneath his, creating a sensuous movement that Steece could not ignore.
"You fucking, hot, white bitch! You want more, huh? You still want more of Master Steece!"
She waited breathlessly for him to hear the whining and jump off to check at the door but he went on about his slow caressing without paying the slightest heed to the noises she heard.
"Josh! Run, Josh ... run for help, ol' boy!" She waited again, sure that he would hear the dog now and do something, anything to verify her own sense of sound.
"What you calling on that dead mutt for? Don't tell me you still think he's alive?" Steece made his voice sound incredulous and once again, reached to unloosen her bonds. Carver couldn't have picked a better time to turn that mongrel loose in the hall!
He grabbed her legs and yanked her over onto her backside, then dragged her down to the foot of the bed. Her legs dangled helplessly as she put up her hands to ward him off but there was no stopping him. He stretched out over her, guiding his prick into her crying mouth. Sex was the furthest thing from her mind right now, and the mere thought of having to suck him off again was more than she could bear. The very fact that he hadn't heard Josh could only mean one thing and if that was true, she was finished! Washed up! Mad! Josh was not out there after all! Maybe he never had been! Maybe Steece and the others were telling the truth all along ... Josh was dead!
Oh, God, oh, God, don't let this be happening to me! Don't let me lose my mind as well as my body! As long as I still have sanity, there might be a way out of this for me ... Oh, please, God, please!
The ugly appendage slid deep into her throat and began the long, racking, pumping movement. She moved the muscles in her throat mechanically as she had learned to do to keep from gagging. Steece gripped the bedpost above their heads to gain more leverage and beat harder against her. His giant ass moved up and down as smoothly as though he, too, was a great machine, incapable of any defects of motion. She wondered at his strength and never-ending source of energy as her own body cried for mercy beneath his gushing thrusts. If only he would hurry and shoot his cum, she would be done with him for the night. He never stayed the whole night, and it was nearly dawn.
Her lack of response kindled a new anger, however, in the giant of a man above her. She had begged willingly enough earlier and he was sure she would again. He removed himself from her mouth and crept downward on her body, pausing to pay homage to her fantastic, pearl-colored globes. He felt a flicker of emotion stirring beneath his tongue as he swept at the hardening nipples before moving further down into her own land of lust.
Martie tried to ease back up on the bed as he moved over her, certain that once she could brace her feet against the mattress, she would be able to veer away from him. She knew what he was up to and it sickened her to think of crying out for him again. Her mouth dribbled with the juices of lubrication he left and she brought her hand up to brush it away.
Suddenly the tongue was deep inside her crevice, coaxing her to life again through the pores of her vagina, to cry out for him again through the mouth of her passion. Her hand was stilled in mid-air as the electricity of his touch sent her into the familiar whirlwind. How could she fight them when just the tips of their tongues could fill her with such obscene hunger? Especially Steece! Steece knew that he could win her by staying long enough to charge her sexual battery. The others only played there long enough to arouse their frenzied desires. In the long run, she could resist them because she knew they would never even hear her call for release, but not with Steece!
Even now, she felt her own body become limp, then grow taut with the desire he knew he was kindling.
Steece sent a hand around beneath her soft hips and jabbed a finger deep into her anus as his tongue raced up and down over the tiny erection, still growing between the sore, puffed lips of her sex. He felt the convulsive shudders mounting in her groin and then just as though he knew the precise moment of her glory, he turned her loose and laughed while she screamed at him to finish her.
Carver had pulled the dog back into the room and was watching eagerly as Steece moved toward the half-open door, his face beaming with the promise of another tale of conquest.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Martie felt the touch of something wet and cold against her leg and jumped in her sleep. The room was pitch dark. Even the window had been covered with some sort of black cloth, eliminating any kind of light. The touch came again and this time she knew she wasn't dreaming! Her bonds held her too tightly to allow any movement, but her senses danced to life as she tried to recognize the familiar feeling. Then came the sound that sent a cry to her throat.
Josh! He was in the room ... touching her ... whining to her ... alive ... real! Josh! It was Josh! Her breathing became fast as she tried to babble his name and free her wrist to touch him.
Steece crouched under the bed and held the rope tightly. He gave only enough to let the excited mutt sniff and touch his mistress but not enough to jump onto the bed or go anywhere near her head. It was an illusion he wanted to create, nothing more. Just a small, insignificant illusion. He smiled evilly into the darkness, silently complimenting his own resourcefulness. If the books wouldn't tell him a detailed means of driving her over the edge, he would improvise his own! He strained to hear what she was whispering.
Martie cocked her head off the pillow, listening to, and frightened of, what she was hearing. There were no sounds except those that she dared not believe. Those sounds of Josh swishing his tail frantically about in the air and his paws dancing on the floor in his efforts to jump up beside her, that same, pathetic crying like he was still muzzled. It couldn't be! They kept the door locked and even so, he could not have turned the handle even if there was no lock. She fell back against the bed, more fear than she had known possible, creeping through her veins. She remembered a girl in the state home and suddenly, all the memories of her childhood seemed to be summed up by that one memory. The girl was incurably insane. Her family had sent her to the home, deposited a large amount of money in a fund for her keeping and completely washed their hands of her. The story got around and the other kids, even though they were deathly afraid of being in the same room with the girl, always allowed themselves a measure of intense pity for her. At least she had had folks, but what a small comfort that could have been to her. Perhaps it was worse, if she realized at all, because she had them and they abandoned her after she knew them!
The girl cried out silly phrases and made weird gestures with her useless hands. She made faces at blank walls and then screamed at them to shut up and stop laughing at her ... only the walls didn't laugh and neither did the children, watching in horror as her face contorted with some sort of inner madness.
Martie stifled a scream now. Was that happening to her? Had it already happened? Was this the sort of thing the girl cried out against, too? This illusion that not only had sound but carried with it a sense of touch too? Oh, God! No! It couldn't end like this for her! But it had ended this way for the girl, hadn't it? What sort of terrors had driven her to it? Had she been born that way? No, Martie didn't think so. The family wouldn't have waited until she was sixteen to get rid of her if she had been that way all her life. No, something horrible must have happened to her. Could it have been something like what was happening to her now? Would she end up back in an institution somewhere, yelling at inanimate objects and cursing into her pillow at night?
She tried ignoring the licking on her thigh and the slight scratching noises. Her eyes closed tightly, but she wasn't aware of the motion of her lips as she talked aloud.
"I don't feel anything. I'm having another nightmare, that's all ... another bad dream. Josh is gone ... sick, maybe dead, but Josh isn't here, not in this room, not licking me and trying to get on the bed with me. I know he's not ... I know it!"
Steece couldn't catch it all but he heard enough to convince him he was on the right pathway. A few more times like this and she would be completely his slave. She would not try to run away, for, being mad, she would fear apprehension. He wasn't sure how that all added up but in every book he ever read or movie he ever saw, a person that had lost his mind was always afraid of being caught and taken somewhere. What sort of visions these people had about this place they would be taken to, he didn't know, but they always stayed close to anything familiar and never ventured unless they were forced to. He would see to it that she wasn't forced to venture! Oh, the glory of having her tagging after him around the old building, kneeling when he gave a kneel command crawling up to him on all fours and asking to suck him off, even in front of friends if he chose to do it that way! God, he would be the envy of every Negro man he knew!
His mind raced with the things he would train her to do and the further he went into his imagination, the greater were the torments he intended to bestow upon her. She would be better trained and more submissive than any Negro slave had ever been! She would live to serve his sexual needs; and if he needed money, which he usually did, she would gladly offer her body to anyone, male or female, at just his command to do so.
Josh was wild, giving Steece a hard time in holding him in. The smell of his mistress, the taste of her, the sound of her voice, even though it sounded strange, all mixed up inside his happy mind as he made one lunge after another to get onto the bed with her. It was as though he remembered lying beside her in the apartment when she was upset or unhappy. Like he remembered how much his nearness seemed to comfort her and that she needed that comfort now more than ever.
Martie's lips kept moving steadily as she whispered into the darkness. She whispered snatches of poetry she remembered from Miss Hanson's class and formulas for simple math she learned in the same room. She even found the words of a few prayers, lingering in the back of her mind and tried to recite them and make them mean something. Nothing worked. She could still feel or thought she could, the gentle licking on her thigh, and the sound seemed to magnify the more she tried to pretend it wasn't there.
Steece hoped Carver would come in at the right moment. He was supposed to be at the door listening, and it was his job to enter-but only when several moments had gone by in silence. The chanting voice on the bed above him seemed to fade into nothing and all he could hear was her quick, gaspy breathing.
He snatched at the rope, pulling Josh beneath the springs with him and forced his body over the dog's to keep him from getting out into view.
Carver busted through the door like a madman and Steece grinned in spite of himself from his hiding place as he listened to his cohort mimic the lines he had made him memorize.
"What the hell is all the yelling about in here? I thought Steece told you to keep your fucking mouth shut or he would split you wide open from here to here!" Steece could tell by the placement of Carver's feet that he had moved close to the bed and was following his remark with a gesture indicating where the incision of her splitting would be.
Martie gasped fearfully but said nothing. She wanted to scream out that she hadn't been yelling but she wasn't that sure. Maybe she had been!
Carver crossed back over to the light switch and flicked it on. The bulb, still over the bed, almost blinded her but she squinted this way and that, trying to see if there was anyone or anything in the room. Her face turned chalk white. The whining came from under the bed but Carver didn't even hear it! Josh couldn't possibly be in there!
The big, black buck started undressing, slowly as he had been told to do. It was almost more than he could do but Steece was right there and he knew he'd better carry it off. He stood beside the bed, slipping his hand back and forth over his dick while the other reached to caress Martie's tit. Her eyes closed over the tears spilling from them but she kept quiet. He wouldn't understand, even if she did tell him. There was no hope left.
She hardly moved as he lumbered his fat body onto the bed with her and mounted her chest. She knew what he was going to do but it didn't seem to matter much any more. This is all she could ever expect from now on. Day in, day out, a continual attack upon her body. It didn't matter. Her mind was gone and without it, her body was a mere, mechanical thing.
The stench of the black man carried up to her nostrils and she squirmed in spite of herself. She could still be repelled! That was something!
He moved over her, bending low and whispering vulgar words into her face as he cupped his grimy hands over her tits and yanked them to cover his monstrous prick. She grunted as his weight ground back and forth between her mounds, but not once did she cry out or give him any added excitement. His cum flooded onto her white shoulders and dripped down to the mattress below her but still he would not leave her alone. He hiked up further until the limp hammer of flesh hung above her mouth. She opened it automatically. It would be over sooner this way and maybe with less pain. He groaned as the warmth and wet of the insides of her cheeks closed around him. It was up to her to bring it back to life. She knew it. She did it. Carver let out a stream of obscenities as his rod slipped between her lips. Steece, certain that this meant she could not see beyond the huge mass of black flesh, scooted quietly out from under the bed and crawled out of the room. He ached from his doubled position, but he was smiling happily as he went to put Josh back in the cellar. The dog had done a good job. Steece threw him some extra food and left him gulping it down contentedly.
Richie was waiting outside the door when Steece returned to see how things were going.
"Still not through?" he asked the eager boy.
"No, and goddamn it I wish he would hurry! I've run my own stream twice just waiting for him. Tell him, Steece ... tell him it's my turn!"
Steece looked at Richie without really seeing him and answered in the same offhand manner. "You'll get yours, boy. Don't worry."
The more he thought about the two bastards sucking in the benefits of his labors, the more the idea of killing them appealed to him. It wouldn't take much. A good overdose the next time they tripped out would do it. His mind began exploring the possibilities as he watched Richie's blank, youthful face contort with the panic in his groin. It wouldn't be like doing away with someone that understood the cause. If either Richie or Carver had the foggiest notion of what he was trying to prove with the white bitch, of the way he felt toward her race ... well, that would be another story but they didn't. They didn't even seem to care about the way their own race was treated. They couldn't see further ahead of them than their next meal or piece of ass. No, their passing would be no great loss to his concept of the black race!
Suddenly, he was jealous of the man inside with Martie, and his jealousy extended to this mere slip of a boy beside him who waited to take the other man's place. He quieted himself by thinking about something else until he heard Carver's groans of exhaustion. There was nothing to do but let Richie go in. If he really was going to do anything about these two spongers, they mustn't have any premonitions. He would have to think a plan through and execute it without their ever guessing at his contempt for them. Carver wasn't as dumb as the young one. If he caught on, he would make it his business to see Steece get hung, one way or another.
Strange, how he hadn't thought of this before. Perhaps he had been too concerned with his experiment with the girl.
Carver shuffled out, dragging his trousers behind him like a bone and Richie rushed into the room. Steece stared through the open door, trying to see past the frantic movements of the boy hurrying out of his jeans.
Martie didn't even look in Richie's direction. Steece let out an involuntary sigh. She wasn't moved by Carver and if luck stuck with him, Richie would not arouse anything either. Neither of them tried! It was their own damned fault! Well, he wasn't knocking that. Perhaps it was better this way. When she finally gave up the last of her precious hopes, she would be his entirely ... his devoted sex slave! Another picture of her crawling around behind him, crossed his mind and he smiled in secret pleasure.
Richie rearranged the ropes as he flipped her over, all the while talking filthy talk to her about the way he loved shooting it in her ass. Martie's only reply was a sharp inhaling of air as if she were bracing herself for the horrible ordeal about to take place.
"Be sure you tie her good before you leave her," Steece reminded as he closed the door on the scene and started off for the room he shared with the other two. Carver was hulked across the bed, still panting hard from his recent bit of exercise. "She don't fuck so good tonight. Think that dog bit got to her, Steece?" He rolled over and addressed his companion.
"Yeah. I'm sure it did. About three more times like that and we'll have her right where we want her. You won't have to worry about how she fucks then! I guarantee you that!"
"How come she acted that way tonight then?"
Carver once again revealed his ignorance. Steece turned away to hide his expression for the other man's stupidity. "How would you act if you thought, I mean really thought you were going insane? How would that hit you right off?" He hoped Carver would catch on without further explanation.
Whether he did or not was immaterial as long as he pretended to and quit asking stupid questions.
Carver rolled back over and within minutes, Steece could hear the even sounds of his breathing as he slept. The oaf!
He didn't realize he had been pacing the floor until Richie came limping back down the hall. He would have to shake his hatred for them until he was finished with them. If he didn't watch out, Carver would be suspecting something. They had been friends too long for him not to notice the change. Steece thought back on the friendship and wondered vaguely whether there was anything there between them worth saving after all. He couldn't think of anything they had ever accomplished together to further the cause. Carver was someone to drink with, wench with and trip with, nothing more. He couldn't even carry on a halfway intelligent conversation unless it had to do with one of the three things. No, they had had some laughs together but nothing Steece couldn't have done with anyone else. Both of them would have to go! That was the only way he would ever have any peace after he got the girl trained to his liking.
"Did you tie her right?" he asked the flushed-faced boy as he plopped down on the chair.
"Of course. What do you think I am, stupid?" Richie had no idea how much truth was in his idle statement. It was just a phrase he picked up as a kid and still used for lack of something better.
Steece smiled, hoping Richie wouldn't see the hate through it. Of course he was stupid.
"Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Hey, isn't tomorrow the first?" Without waiting for a reply, Steece nodded to himself and made a mental note not to forget to go down to the unemployment office for his check. Carver received some sort of disabled pension from the army every month and with the two checks combined, they would lay in their usual store of food, booze and pills. Richie rode free sometimes but not often. Usually he was the one that would knock over the pushers and get by at half price for doing some bit of dirty work for them. He had other ways of contributing but Steece never asked how he got the cash. What he didn't know, couldn't send him up the river. Yes, it would never do to kill them yet. He neeed the money and he still needed their help with the girl. After that ... well, he would think it through later.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Verna listened, her eyes growing wide with mental calculations of profits. Steece knew, after the night she brought the women to Martie, that he wouldn't have any trouble convincing her of the advantages of his new plan. Their mutual hate of whites was another great additive in his favor. She might not have been so callous had the girl in question been of their own race.
They closed the deal with a good stiff shot of bourbon and Steece sauntered out, confident that he had made a good decision. Explaining it to Richie and Carver wouldn't be difficult either, once they learned what treasures it held for them.
The men listened with the same sort of excitement Verna displayed and Steece, certain that they would cooperate, went into detail about the way they would carry it off.
Martie looked at the tray of food suspiciously as Steece set it on the dresser and crossed to the bed. He didn't speak as he went from one rope to the other, loosening her from the position she had come to think of as almost natural. Her nostrils trembled as the aroma of the tray came through the normal odors of the room.
"Yes, it's for you." His statement was simple, his face, expressionless.
Martie raised up and began stretching her limbs slowly. She didn't believe him and tried not to think of the food. Her eyes were listless as he brought the tray over and set it on the bed.
"Eat it while it's hot, bitch." Steece sank to the floor and leaned against the wall, watching her and waiting expectantly. He hoped she would start gushing "thank yous" so he could bowl her over with sarcasm but she said nothing.
For long moments she stared at the plate of almost forgotten morsels, all piping hot and delicious-looking. Her movements were hesitant as she reached for the fork and then, instead of diving into the plate, she turned the utensil over and over in her hand, savoring the feel of it.
"I said, eat!"
She cast him a short, blank look, then turned back to the plate. It looked so good! Well, why not enjoy it? It was probably her last meal, Martie thought as she guided the fork carefully toward the mashed potatoes. They always serve a prisoner a good meal before they execute him. She ate slowly, savoring each bite and chewing carefully. Steece became impatient with her and chided her to hurry but the fork moved with the same slow methodical movements until the plate was clean. Not finding a napkin, she took her hand and painstakingly wiped her mouth, then licked each finger individually.
He waited for some comment but there was none, and for the first time in days Steece was concerned about her. Had he gone too far? Was she another kind of crazy? A kind he knew nothing about? A kind that would not react the way he had planned?
She made no move as he came to the bed to remove the tray but her eyes followed him closely.
"Do you have to go to the shitter?" he asked abruptly.
"No, thank you. I'm fine." Her reply was cool.
"Well lay your ass back down then!" He yipped at her and gave her a shove backward. She didn't fight him as he secured the ropes again and Steece was troubled over the strange look on her face. It was almost as if she liked him. It was frightening. He hurried out and locked the door behind him.
"I don't see why we can't keep fucking her," Richie complained bitterly when Steece announced that all their sexual activities would cease until after the night at Verna's. Carver's expression was in complete agreement but he didn't comment.
"I want her in prime shape, that's all. Don't you think I'm going to miss sinking my prick, too?" He looked at Richie to show he was in sympathy with him. "It's just that she looks pretty bad and bad merchandise doesn't warrant a good asking price. You should understand that, Richie. You're the one that does all the haggling for the stuff. You know how much to pay for what kind of shit it is." Appealing to Richie's backward business sense in such a complimentary manner won him over. He agreed that it was a good idea and Steece could see that he would have no more trouble. Carver rode the fence and did what he was told.
"We have three days to get her in top shape. We're going to see she gets four hot meals a day, a couple of baths. And we got to get those tangles out of her hair. Don't tell her anything if she asks."
"What about the dog? You still want us to spook her with the dog?" Carver was watching Steece carefully, trying to weigh out all the facts. Steece was a strange man. He was full of ideas most men don't even think about and lately he seemed almost obsessed with his power over the girl. He shrugged, allowing each man his idiosyncrasies.
"Yes. The same routine with the mutt." He offered no reason and they asked for none. Steece alone understood about the dog. Carver didn't even pretend to try.
Martie watched with amazement as Richie came in with another tray at lunchtime. This was the third meal, real meal, in a row. Her theory about a prisoner's last meal was shot, and she didn't know what else to make of this strange turn of events. Even stranger was the fact that none of them had touched her since late yesterday afternoon.
She had been brought a pan of cold water after breakfast and some rags and told to wash. They left her alone. Now there was a hairbrush on the tray. What did it all mean?
Martie tried to remain motionless as Richie moved about undoing the ropes. She wanted to ask but her voice was lost in her throat. It was like the slightest move or word on her part might reduce everything that was happening to a mirage.
"Eat." Richie spoke simply and settled himself against the wall to watch as Steece had done the night before and Carver did at breakfast. Her body was beginning to respond to the food and she found it difficult to approach it as slowly and carefully as she had before. Certain that they weren't going to snatch it away and laugh at her greed, she ate rather quickly and without the finesse she had shown previously. Steece smiled as Richie reported this to him. Her melancholy was disappearing.
Later in the afternoon he found her looking at the hairbrush longingly, and once again she found that she was free to use her arms as he undid her and handed her the brush.
The hours between their comings and goings, she lectured herself about getting her hopes up but when they came in, so completely different than they had been, each time with some new privilege, Martie found it difficult to remain unmoved. She studied their faces for answers but they were like stone.
The only possible answer was that they were tired of her. They were going to free her and they wouldn't dare free her in the condition she was in. No, they would have to make her presentable to the public. They would have to be certain her appearance wouldn't uphold any story she might tell the authorities. Perhaps they had discussed the possibility of killing her and decided it held more risk than letting her loose. And perhaps they were right. She wasn't at all sure she could bring herself to relate her horrible degradation to anyone. It would be too painful, too embarrassing.
The more she swayed herself to believe they were preparing to free her, the more exuberant she became. The second day, Steece was amazed at the change in her. She looked good, really good for the first time since they brought her there and the food was quickly filling in the hollows that he had noticed. Yes, she would be a tempting dish to set before the audience at Verna's. The bidding should go well.
Martie's only hangup during the three days of privacy and good food was the nights. They left her alone, but there was always the sound of Josh, whining somewhere in the distance. The sounds came from different directions each time but they were there, always there and they haunted her during the day. It wasn't a sound in a nightmare that woke her up, it was a noise beyond. One that she heard only when she was awake.
How could it seem so real? She was certain that her mind was still intact until she heard it, then she would close her eyes and beseech her invisible God, a God she wasn't even sure existed.
Steece came in about seven the evening of the third day. He was freshly shaven and spruced up. Martie looked at him in wonder as he approached her.
"I'm going to check you over. Don't panic 'cause you ain't got nothing I want any more." His words were followed quickly by the placement of his hands on her most intimate part. Martie tensed. His words meant nothing as the memories of past terrors flooded through her mind.
Steece peered into the healed orifice with sort of a clinical satisfaction but his prick rose mightily within his trousers as his fingers probed for tenderness.
He couldn't resist slipping one within the dark cavern and wiggling it around. Martie gasped, shocked at her own reaction. There was no pain, no fear, nothing! Nothing except an immense need creeping through her body. She turned away quickly lest he should notice. Her efforts to still her trembling body were futile as he withdrew his hand and moved upward, checking her breasts for bite marks and bruises. Everything seemed sufficiently healed over. Steece moved away from the bed with a great amount of emotional difficulty. He hated the idea of having those queer bitches at Verna's crawling over the body he had so carefully prepared for them. His own lust was scorching his groin as he slammed out of the room, leaving a bewildered Martie, sobbing inwardly at her own discovery.
He was back, a half-hour later, apparently under complete control again. His orders to Carver and Richie were brisk and his warnings to Martie crisp and to the point. If she made a sound or a move out of the way, he would kill her. His tone left no doubt in her mind that he meant every word.
For the first time in over a month, she felt the material of clothing against her flesh and shoes on her feet. One last interlude with the brush at the hands of Carver and Steece shook his head in approval as he motioned the party out the door. They crept through the back way, through the overgrowth of weeds to the old car in the alley. Steece was taking no chances of walking through the streets even though Verna's was only a few short blocks away.
Martie found that she was weak, almost too weak to make it on her own to the vehicle. Richie had to steady her twice and finally put his arm around her for support. Her only mode of transportation had been her hands and knees for so long, it didn't really surprise her too much.
She sat nestled tightly between Richie and Steece while Carver once again headed the car out into the night. The anticipation of being set free finally began to course through her. She just couldn't believe it was happening!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Martie woke up to two realities: the horrible pain in the back of her head and the familiar ache at her ankles and wrists. She quieted herself as she realized she was not in the car or back in the room but in strange surroundings.
The light was bright in the room though not dangling from above the bed like it was in the other place. Her eyes opened almost against her will.
There was a murmuring all around her of voices, male and female, all of them bent on shaming her with their obscene comments of her nude beauty. She tried to shut them out but they became louder or perhaps she only imagined that they became louder. Perhaps they did not exist at all. A quick, searching look about her assured her that she was not imagining this scene. She saw Steece standing by the door, a smug look of satisfaction on his face as he watched her take in her situation. His look told her that he had won and knew it.
Martie looked away quickly and tried to brace herself for whatever was to come but she had no way of knowing just how deep the degradation was that he had planned.
Suddenly, all the lights seem to go out but one, and it was centered upon her like a spotlight.
A fat, sloppy-looking black woman walked to the bed and grinned down at her evilly.
"The little pigeon is finally awake, I see." She turned from Martie and looked around at her audience, holding up her hand for their silence.
"This is a very special party as you have all been told. Whatever goes on in this room will never be repeated. You have all been chosen for this special get-together for two reasons; one being that all of you are capable of truly appreciating the sort of entertainment we have planned and the other reason, obviously, for your ability to keep your fuckin' mouths shut!"
Martie moaned and struggled with her bonds. The woman looked back at her in disdain. "This little, white bitch, no doubt thinks she is much too good for the company she is in, but what she thinks makes little difference. You have been invited here to enjoy yourselves. Pay no heed to anything she says. She is white trash!" She spat out the words in such contempt that even Martie trembled in the wake of her rough voice.
The black woman went on. "I know you have all been trying to get a good look at her, and I think you deserve that much before we start the bidding." She looked at Steece for approval and he nodded, adding, "Yes, they must look, but no one will touch!"
The black faces filed past and around her, one by one, until Martie lost count. She felt herself swimming toward an oblivion she couldn't quite reach and cried out her anguish to an unhearing audience. She begged them, called upon their decency, cursed them, insulted their race, screamed for justice, but none of it penetrated except to make the performance one of higher degree. And Steece! Everywhere she looked, he seemed to be peering at her from the border of the crowd, hating with his eyes, owning with his soul.
The bidding began. Martie gasped at the prices they were offering for five minutes with her body. The big, black woman wrote all the bids down, called the names of the twelve highest and charged the rest of them a ten-dollar spectator fee if they wished to stay. No one left the room and Martie's eyes bulged as Verna passed her, her fist wadded tightly around the dirty, crumpled bills. She barely saw her stuff the bundle into her ample bosom before the first customer was upon her.
It was a woman! Her body was fierce, her hard, panting breath rancid, as she clopped her unabashed nakedness across Martie's helpless form.
The audience fell into a stupored hush as the husky Lesbian began to ply her lusty art upon her white victim. Martie's screams were muffled instantly by the pair of full, sensuous lips that came bearing down against hers. The woman's hands were demanding as a man's as she covered the contours of Martie's ample bust while she prolonged the long, tongue-searching kiss. Her strength was unbelievable! Martie couldn't move an inch beneath the force of the embrace nor could she drown out the sounds of the room. It was there! The whining! Oh, God, no! It couldn't be!
Had it been there all along? Did it just start? Didn't anyone hear it besides her? Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!
And those other sounds! Sounds of men's zippers racing down followed by that strange, unmistakable sighing and panting, groans that could only mean one thing, long, low whistles of appreciation for the scene, hushed utterances of encouragement to the woman above her.
She felt the woman's hand creeping along her stomach, making its own intricate path to her love garden. The ropes stretched her legs wide, wider than on the narrower bed she had left behind. There was no way to pull them together, no way to save herself! The woman left her fingers lingering around the coveted cunt while she bent to take her fill of the ripe, full tits.
Martie forced herself to look at her assailant. If she ever got out of this, she would want to remember each face and see them one more time ... one more time, behind bars or at the end of the same rope she visualized Steece dangling from.
Her vision blurred as the reality of the woman's features loomed before her. Her hair was short, cut like a man's, and her nostrils were flared wide like a bull preparing for attack. The rest was duplicated by the next three bidders. Their bodies were strong, rawboned like men and their desires were just as wild if not wilder. None of them tried to bring Martie to the threshold of a climax. They were too eager to show off in front of their audience, to display the power that their money had brought them, to cream their own juices of fulfillment but the fourth one was different. Her bones were small, like Martie's own and she would have been pretty if the hardness could have been erased. She took Martie like a gentle man takes his new bride. Martie was terrified, then mesmerized. Her senses whirled about her and finally, she no longer saw the eager faces, bending over the bed, watching, envying, experiencing with their eyes what the Lesbian was experiencing with her body.
She whispered into Martie's ear tenderly, quietly so no one could hear the words, and her hands moved smoothly, lovingly over the areas so ravaged by the lovemakers before her. None of it meant anything ... there was no love involved but, still, Martie could identify with the gentleness. She could pretend and by pretending, her body could relax from the agony of her tensed muscles and straining sanity.
She found herself responding to the quiet coaxing. She waited breathlessly for each thing the woman told her was coming and when it came, her very flesh embraced the reprieve from harshness. Slowly, the slight body turned and covered Martie's, the gleaming red gash coming ever nearer to her mouth as the head bent lower over Martie's pulsing clit. They melted together and the crowd cheered at the sight of the white bitch reaching up inside her agressor with her tongue. They shouted for Verna to loosen the bonds so that they might see a real, mutual love affair, but they contented themselves with watching when Verna refused.
All through the hurricane of lust, Martie heard only one thing ... Josh! She heard the thudding on the floor when he scratched at a flea. She heard the panting from the heat. She heard the god-awful whining! She heard it and wallowed in it! She was atoning for his death!
The woman brought her to the ragged edge of fulfillment, then nudged her over and lapped up the long pent-up juices of Martie's cursed passion. When she finished, she turned quickly and sat firmly on her breasts, slapping Martie again and again across the face and laughing at her return of passion. Her high voice shrieked with hate-filled sentences about white flesh. Finally someone pulled the woman away. A man took her place.
The night wore on. Men, women. All of them alike, all different. All of them intent on using her body for a disposal of their lust. None of them leaving her until their desires were satisfied. Twice, Steece stopped them while he wiped away the semen and slobber from her nose so she could breathe and twice he held his hand up for them to continue. She hated him. She loved him. She was empty. There was one man left but she didn't know he was the last. He held up his hand and demanded that she be turned over. He had paid the price and would take her in the manner in which he chose.
Verna cast a quick glance at Steece and again, he nodded his approval. The bonds were quickly undone while she was turned. Several spectators volunteered to hold her rather than retie her. Steece snorted that it would cost them an extra dollar and they tossed the money at him hurriedly and grabbed for her hands and legs.
One of them shoved his dick in her hand and tightened his grip around her fist to hold it there while the others stripped their juices on her as the customer thrust into her from the rear. Her screams caught in her throat. Someone was trying to shove a runny prick in her mouth! She remembered nothing else.
Steece and Verna counted out the money after the last of them had gone and poured a drink to celebrate the success of their deal. The girl had served them well, and even survived. This was more than Verna expected although she hadn't said anything to Steece beforehand.
Carver and Richie, exhausted from the long, unrewarding ordeal, lifted the near-lifeless body into the car and drove the three blocks back to the building in silence.
None of them spoke much until Martie was once again secured to the old bed in what was known as "her room."
They dumped the money in the middle of the table and Steece doled out what he thought was a fair share to the other two men. "Live it up, buy what you want, but remember the last thing I asked you to do. Find me those dogs! Two, maybe three and all in heat! White if you can get 'em! Oh, and Richie, here's an extra thirty bills. Get us some of the real stuff! We going to do some high tripping until she gets well! Then we going to fuck her silly!"
Richie beamed and waited restlessly at the door for Carver to pocket his take. Steece knew he would blow most of his gain at the card room but it made no difference to him. He had one last phase to put into action, then he would do away with both of them.
The idea about the dogs came to him while he watched the final degradation of his white fancy.
He bathed her carefully while she still tossed in the abyss of unconsciousness and then turned Josh loose in the room with them after carefully closing the door. He wanted her to awaken to the soft feeling of his tongue between her thighs but he wanted those female dogs, too. He paced until he heard the car door slam behind the building.
A quick check out the window told him that Carver had been faithful to the end and successful. He led two rather unruly dogs behind him and disappeared in the shadows behind the building.
Quickly he climbed onto the bed with Martie and bent low over her injured cunt. His tongue was gentle and warm but Martie was long in coming around. Only when she heard the joyous bark of an old friend, did she fully open her eyes.
She saw him! He was there! She tried to raise up but she was too weak, at least for the moment. Then she felt Steece and the fear that rushed through her was ironically replaced by a thundering passion in her gut. Her legs moved slowly to encircle his head and she heard herself chanting over and over, "Fuck me, eat me, fuck me, eat me, fuck me, eat me, FUCK ME, EAT ME, GIVE ME MEAT, BLACK MEAT...."
Her chants became loud screams of desire as the tongue worked harder and faster over the swollen little mound of her sex. Through the blurring eyes, she saw Josh humped over a female dog, pumping away in a manner she had come to desire more than anything in the world. The other female was nipping at the mating pair as if in envy and Martie struggled to bring Steece's head out of the valley between her legs.
"Fuck me! Fuck me like that! Do it! Fuck me like that!" Her hands flailed the air wildly as she tried to point at the animals on the floor.
Steece growled a long, low groan of contentment as he slapped her mouth and jerked her over onto her stomach. He raised above her and grinned lecherously as her ass swung high in the air to meet his tortured member.
All night she cried for him, screamed at him to fill her, begged him to eat her, grabbed his dick whenever she could reach it and tried to devour it. He finally slipped from the bed and tried to steady himself by holding the foot posts.
Martie scrambled to the floor and hassled with the female dog beneath Josh.
"Get away! Get away, you fucking bitch! Do it Josh! Do it to me!" She was on all fours, backing up excitedly to the bewildered companion of old.
Steece shot his head back and doubled with laughter. She was finished as a human! She was finished as a white! She was his! His very own white fucking bitch!
