Michelle Dubois was a beautiful, innocent teenager living in the little French town of St. Jovite in northern Quebec, when suddenly, in a matter of a few hours, her world was shattered and transformed into a hideous nightmare.
Coming home from school early one afternoon, she had discovered her mother in bed with two strange men, and-horror stricken-she fled from her home. Several hours later, attempting to hitchhike to Montreal after dark, she was picked up by four desperate men in a van. These men, disillusioned revolutionaries, were now no better than common criminals. And the young virgin suffered brutally at their hands. She was first raped by their leader, Cal, and then taken to an old, decrepit house in Montreal's east end. There, she was gang raped by the other three men-Louie, almost forty, thin, dirty, repellent to her, the weakest member of the group; by Luc, second in command to Cal, blonde and acne-scarred; and by Henri, a huge brute of a man, the most vicious of the four.
Michelle soon learned that this was no mere abduction and rape. No, it was even more evil than that. She was part of a much larger, more villainous scheme-a plan to assassinate the Prime minister of Canada!
And Michelle was to be the hostage that would insure their escape!
She knew her only chance was to escape. . . . But how? The men were armed and ruthless.
Then, a miraculous chance presented itself. After the brutal gang rape, the men had passed out in alcoholic stupors. And Michelle herself had passed into welcome unconsciousness on the filthy living room rug. But she had been the first to awake the next morning.
This was it! This was her chance!
Quietly, cautiously, her clothes in tatters, she picked herself up from the floor, trembling with fear lest one false step wake her captors. And then-oh God!
She was out in the street in the early morning air-free!
She began to run, half naked in her torn clothes, down St. Hubert Street toward St.
Catherine, Montreal's main street just a few blocks away. Then, suddenly, she looked back. Luc was only a block behind her.
Then, with a great feeling of relief, she saw coming toward her a well-dressed couple and a dog. Could they save her. . . would the sight of them frighten Luc or would he harm them and get her back. She had to try . . . she had to.
But then, the world was pulled from under her. For this was no ordinary couple-it was the man called Bourassa, the powerful businessman who was the brains behind the assassination plot, and Heather, Col's girlfriend.
And so, completely crushed, more terrified even than before. Michelle was taken back to the old house that was her prison-her hopes for escape now thoroughly demolished.
CHAPTER ONE
Snow was falling now in a thick mist of heavy flakes outside the old house on St. Hubert Street in Montreal's east end. The radiator pipes rattled and shook, but did little to heat the huge decrepit building. Michelle Dubois sat in the living room, her red sweater and jeans still in tatters, hugging herself to keep off the chill as she gazed around the room at her captors.
Bourassa, well-dressed and dignified, sat in the big stuffed chair. Only his greedily glinting eyes belied his look of prosperous respectability. Heather was perched beside him on the arm of the chair, the German Shepherd, Mackenzie, at her feet. MacKenzie was Cal's dog, and Heather was Cal's woman, taking care of the huge animal while Cal and the men had pulled the holdup in northern Hull.
Michelle looked at the stunning blonde woman, searching her eyes for a trace of sympathy but all she found was a look of pure cold cruelty.
Her four kidnappers-Louie, Luc and Henri, and their leader Cal, seemed somehow transformed in Bourassa's presence. And the atmosphere was tense, for Bourassa had shown great contempt for the men because of her near-escape.
God! She had been so close to freedom. But now it was over-she was theirs to use as they would. Her shoulders were slumped in resignation, and she was growing more and more aware of the pain in her bruised and battered vagina; it throbbed with each beat of her heart.
To take her mind off her predicament, Michelle found herself wondering about Heather. She was a tall, aristocratic looking blonde, with long wavy hair and large, ripely rounded breasts whose nipples appeared clearly beneath her perfectly fitted, softly silky beige blouse. At first appearance, she looked like many of the upper-class young English Canadian women who lived in Westmount and spent their days shopping at Holt Renfrew. Yet there was something about her, an undercurrent of something animal and strange, and the more Michelle thought about it, the more she thought she understood what this woman was doing here. She was here for kicks. . . born rich, plagued with boredom, she was kept alive by kicks. A boyfriend from the streets, crime, revolution, kidnapping, an assassination.. . .
Michelle was wondering about all this, when suddenly Heather spoke for the first time. First she had looked Michelle up and down as if she had been some sort of servant girl applying for a job. Then she looked at Cal, a strange malevolent light in her green eyes.
"Judging from the condition of the little mademoiselle, I'd guess you all had one fine gang bang last night.. . I sure hope you've got a little left for me, Cal baby."
Luc broke out with a loud guffaw, but quickly stopped when he saw the murderous look on Cal's face. "Why should I wait for a slut like you?" he said quietly. "I heard about the little party you threw in a suite at the Bonaventure? I hear you entertained the entire Soviet basketball team!"
Heather just glared at him. Michelle wondered if the story were true.
"Aw, sweetie," Louie said with malicious humor, "you think you could save a few minutes for a quick roll with me!"
And Heather's icily regal glare should have frozen Louie in his seat. She looked at him as if he had been a cockroach crawling on the white tablecloth of an elegant restaurant, and Louie flushed in humiliation. Michelle felt a wave of sympathy wash over her for the poor man. And Michelle found herself wishing that Heather's maliciousness would find Henri for a target. Somehow she detested him more than the rest. She couldn't say exactly why. It was just a feeling.
But Henri was on the offensive. "You fucking dumb cunt," he said.
And Mackenzie, the huge German Shepherd, jumped up and began to growl menacingly at Henri.
"Call off your fucking dog, Cal," he said, suddenly growing nervous, anticipating the dog would attack.
Then Cal was on his feet, his fist swinging and making contact with the side of Henri's head. And in a moment the huge burly man flew threw the air and bounced against the wall, where he slumped almost unconscious to the floor. He shook his head to clear it, his eyes a cauldron of madness, and he put his hand in his pocket and withdrew a knife, which he flicked open. The long slim gleaming blade leapt to life, ready to kill.
With eerily calm control, Cal pulled a revolver from his waistband and pulled back the trigger with a soft click. "Say your prayers, Henri!"
And then Henri began to panic. "No . . . no, Cal. Don't . . . Sacre!" he panted. "Chalice! Look . . . look, I'm throwing away my knife. I didn't mean . . . I . . . NO!! ! " The last was a scream, as he saw his death warrant written on the gang leader's face. "NO!! ! "
"No, Cal," came a calm, steady voice full of authority-and cold menace. A voice incredibly sure of itself, a voice verging on the edge of a weary boredom.
Cal spun around and found himself facing the barrel of Bourassa's gun.
"Now, Cal, just put it away!" the fat, well-dressed man said with the voice of an annoyed parent, his finger ready on the trigger. There was a moment of silence-Michelle stared at the showroom between the two men, and then saw Cal's shoulder's slump in defeat. Gradually he lowered his gun. Bourassa's expression remained unchanged; he waited until Cal's gun was back in his waistband and then put his own weapon away.
Once assured that he was safe, Henri got quickly to his feet again. He stumbled as he stood, falling against Heather. "Get your hands off me, you little creep," she said in disgust shoving him away.
Luc and Louie both guffawed loudly and Cal nodded as if he finally agreed with something the luscious blonde said. Henri's mouth tightened and his huge body stiffened dangerously. He stood trembling with barely suppressed violence. His glance of hatred raked over the tall blonde's body, then flickered . . . flickered . . . like a beast staking prey-toward Michelle seated on a hard-backed wooden chair. And his murderous look intensified.
Michelle shuddered in spite of herself. Henri was the only one that truly frightened her. Louie was evil, but she had discovered last night, with her mouth full of his hotly throbbing penis that she could handle his particular brand of evilness. Henri, though, was something else . . . so big and stupid . . . so totally malevolent. She could feel his eyes course viciously down the length of her young body, and she felt vulnerable as she sensed his lust mounting anew as he made an obscene appraisal of her still partly exposed breasts and the line of naked flesh showing openly through her ripped jeans.
The young brunette hostage instinctively drew nearer to Cal, who kept a watchful eye on Henri and her. She had already forgiven him for deserting her to the others last night. At least he had not taken part in the disgusting orgy with them. He had known there was no way he could have kept them from ravaging her, yet somehow, she believed he would have saved her from them if he could have. Somehow, his presence made her feel more secure among the others. And since her attempt to escape, however futile it had proved to be, she sensed he had begun to respect her even more. Her thoughts began to turn to ways she might please him if she really had to, and she knew that if called upon to give herself to him, she would not find it totally repelling. Yes, Cal was strong, there was something basically decent about him. And she knew, with a woman's sure instincts, exactly what she would have to do to protect herself in this bizarre situation she was now forced to accept. She would have to humble herself to Cal, no matter how distasteful it might be. It was as simple as that, and yet the young girl was still deeply shaken at how the comparatively serene course of her life in the little town of St. Jovite, had been dramatically altered within a period of only a few hours.
Now she would do anything to please Cal, and she was aware that he needed her silent encouragement if he were to remain gang leader. It was strange how most of life's choices were made by outside circumstances alone, she wondered how much her choice of Serge as her fianc� had to do with the fact that they had sat beside each other in math class two years ago, or how she had accidentally discovered her mother with those two men and run off. And how now she had to choose between four unsavory ex-revolutionary cutthroats, all of whom had ravished her against her will, but she still had to make a choice between them for her protector.
She knew it wouldn't take much to get any one of these men to act as a shield against the others, but the question was whether her own choice would hold in good stead. Despite her own deep-seated feelings of revulsion and fear of Cal, she knew through a second sense that he had a soft spot in his heart for her. She could tell by the way he had acted, almost tenderly, after he had raped her in the back of the van, and she saw another hint of it when he had tried, last night, to keep the other men from her, to keep her for his own.
She knew, of course, that whatever warmth and compassion Cal might show toward her would be bestowed at no expense to his pride and sovereignty over the others. She knew that in the final analysis she was still an object to be used and disposed of like a cheap rag doll that is thrown into the trash after its novelty has worn off and the child has lost interest. No, she could not hope for more than a passing interest in him for her safety, but meanwhile, she must play this momentary tenderness he felt for her for all that it was worth. She would be his whore; somehow or other, even if she had to compete with Heather for his affections.
She looked up attentively now as she heard Cal's voice.
"Okay," he said, assuming command again. "Let's get this meeting started."
Michelle watched as Bourassa placed his briefcase on the coffee table, as if it contained something of great importance. The man's gestures were those of a powerful businessman, accustomed to dealing at the highest levels of authority. He was no youth who had dabbled in revolution, no street punk turned outlaw. No, Michelle guessed, he was more likely one of those businessmen one heard about, who, though remaining anonymous, wielded great power in the corridors of the Parliament in Ottawa. She knew there were people who said these businessmen had more power than any elected officials.
What horrified the young girl, was not, however, what made Bourassa so different from the other four men, but rather, given his position in life, what she began to realize they had in common. It was his eyes, hard and cold, without emotion, without morality.
And her mind began to reel at the thought that what these five men were now about to discuss, could change the history of Canada.
Michelle also noted a change in the way Cal was acting, as he leaned toward Bourassa attentively. He was no longer the snarling leader of a pack of animals who asserted himself through violence. Rather, it seemed as though he had consciously decided to keep his more aggressive stance in reserve until he had the new situation under his control. Yes, he definitely had changed, and there was a disturbing quality to the transformation. Michelle watched Cal light an Export A and lean back somewhat nervously on the sofa. She sensed a slight strain between the two men that was quite different from the animal conflict between Cal and the other three accomplices.
And she remembered, several years ago when she had been still a child and the real FLQ had kidnapped James Cross, the British diplomat, and Pierre LaPorte, the Minister of Labor, she had expressed to her English father a feeling of sympathy for the revolutionaries. Her child's mind had found something noble in their struggle for freedom. And her father had said . . . "Don't be fooled, little girl. . . don't be fooled.. . . For the right price, any one of them could be bought-and I wouldn't be surprised if they came cheap."
Yes, she could see that now . . . see that the four men hated themselves for it, yet could not help but succumb to Bourassa's power and wealth.
"Before we begin," Bourassa said, clearing his throat, "Let's get rid of the, er.. . uh . . . extra baggage." And he nodded his head toward Michelle.
"She won't be any problem," Cal said quietly, then he sighed, giving in to the portly businessman. "Okay, kid . . . get in the kitchen.. . . You too, Heather. . . we're getting hungry."
The tall blonde's eyes narrowed in anger, and then she haughtily rose from the arm of the chair, and regally walked into the kitchen, Michelle behind her. She could hear the men continuing to discuss their plan to assassinate the Prime Minister, but the voices were half-muffled through the closed door, and it was impossible to follow what they were saying.
The young brunette hostage looked toward Heather with dread, and abruptly she knew that her most bitter enemy was not Henri, but this female who was deeply jealous of Cal's attraction for her. Michelle had studied the statuesque blonde in the living room and had instinctively known that the woman was insanely jealous of Cal's new relationship with her. There was no doubt in Michelle's mind that Heather was a totally ruthless woman . . . and in a bizarre flash of clarity, Michelle suddenly knew, deep in her gut, that this woman would be capable of killing her, with no more feeling then she would swat a fly, if Michelle became too much of a problem to her.
"All right, darling," Heather said, an icy chill in her voice. "Start by cleaning the dishes." The blonde sat down on a kitchen chair to watch, as if Michelle had been the new maid.
Michelle bent quietly over the sink and began washing the filthy dishes and pans that lay on the sink-remnants of some meal eaten by someone else weeks or even months ago. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched every one of the blonde woman's movements as though her life depended on it. And it did. There was no way of getting around the fact that on account of Cal, Heather wanted to see Michelle eliminated. The easiest way would be for her to be thrown to Louie and Henri and Luc-to be repeatedly raped again and made an object of their violent, most beastly desire.
"Now, suppose you just go into the living room and pick up the rest of the dishes and glasses," Heather commanded once more. "Then you can start getting dinner ready."
Michelle returned to the living room, feeling very much like she had been Heather's servant for all of her life. She paused as she began placing the remaining plates in her hands, and caught bits and pieces of the discussion between Cal and Bourassa.
"Remember," Bourassa said, "the Prime Minister will arrive at Dorval Airport at exactly eleven-fifty. He will walk through the crowd and shake hands for no more than three minutes . . . but if your timing is precise, there should be no slip-up."
Michelle saw Cal lean forward onto the table, his jaw tightened as though he were under great stress. "And what if they catch us before we can get away.. . ? "
"That has all been taken care of.. . it's very simple," Bourassa replied.
"Yeah," said Cal with irony in his voice.
"Simple for you . . . you'll be in Ottawa . . . no one will touch you. . . . "
"But you know very well, we're covered no matter what happens. If they do catch you . . . well, we have that lovely little girl to buy back your life with. If you aren't released, then we will kill her. In other words. . . the government of Canada would be guilty of the murder of this lovely young thing. How could they possibly allow it. The public would be horrified."
Michelle gasped in horror and the thought of the enormous danger she was in.
She moved from the table, hesitating as she approached the kitchen door in order to hear some more of the conversation. But Bourassa glanced up in her direction, and she immediately returned to the kitchen.
Heather didn't say a word to Michelle as the young hostage bent over the sink again and ran the water over the remaining dirty dishes. For a moment, Michelle almost felt like trying to talk with the woman, but when she looked into Heather's strangely cold eyes, she knew it would be useless. There was an unfathomable gap between the two women that was made more apparent by their very gestures and forms of speaking. Michelle, though her English was fluent, spoke with a strong Quebecois accent, which always sounded crude and uneducated to English Canadians. And she was a simply country girl, completely natural and unaffected. Heather, on the other hand, was coolly elegant and aristocratic, and only to the perceptive was her streak of madness visible. Perhaps, if Michelle had not been forced to analyze her presence in this situation, she would have considered Heather to be quite beautiful, someone to admire and look up to. But the danger to the young girl's life had heightened her perceptions and she could see that beneath the cultured exterior, was a cruel and demented woman.
The dishes complete, the brunette hostage turned and was surprised to find Heather engaged in preparing a meal for the men. She was slicing a large chunk of corned beef from a bag that said Ben's Delicatessen. Michelle moved to her side to help her. Suddenly, she felt the sharp tip of the knife pressed against her breasts.
"Don't touch," Heather said crisply. "I'll take the men their food . . . you just keep on cleaning."
Michelle felt a surge of relief race down the length of her spine when the other woman left the kitchen. Yes, she would just as soon remain here throughout eternity than be abused by those four men again. So much depended upon how she handled herself during the next few hours; if she irritated Heather unnecessarily, or brought the conflict between. Cal and Henri to a head by her presence, she would be the one who would ultimately suffer. Her best chance would be to remain as inconspicuous as possible, and wait until her chance arrived to run away again, if it ever did. It might not be too difficult, since their attention was diverted from her for the moment. But when the opportunity came, she must be successful this time. Their revenge would be vicious and complete, and she just couldn't risk pushing them to the point where they were forced to get rid of her for good . . . if they weren't already planning to kill her. No, she would wait until she was absolutely positive that her escape would be assured, preferably in the afternoon when the streets would be full of people.. . she need only make it to St. Catherine Street, and she would be safe.
"Aren't you finished yet?" Heather suddenly said from the door.
Michelle turned and nodded limply, feeling a sudden surge of hate from the blonde that she couldn't understand.
"Then get your ass in the next room, my dear. Cal doesn't want to have you sitting here by yourself, when he can't watch what your doing."
The chilling sound of her words sliced through Michelle, and she realized that Heather's jealousy had turned to contempt. She could not allow herself to be jealous of a simple little girl from a hick town in the north. And now she could see in the blonde's burning green eyes, an expression of pure loathing.
The voluptuous young brunette paused in fear and confusion, not really wanting to go out, then walked a few steps from the sink.
Suddenly, a flash of pain struck her face and sent her head reeling. "When I speak . . . you act! Understand!" Heather had a chilling grin on her face and slapped her open hand Against Michelle's face once more. "Now, dear . . . move it!"
The blow brought Michelle to her senses, and for one split second she surveyed the blonde with wary enmity. She forced herself to turn away from Heather and moved impassively to the door. As she tried to step into the next room, Heather's taller frame moved out from the doorway and partially blocked her. She could feel the blonde's breath against her cheek and could sense icicles of hatred radiating from her eyes . . . and Michelle knew that beneath the cool exterior was still a hotly burning hate.
"And keep your sweaty little hands off of Cal . . . or you'll be very, very sorry?" Heather said, her lips curled in a cruel grin.
"Hey, girls . . . what's going on?" Cal asked as the two women entered the living room. When neither answered, he said, "Both of you-get over there where I can keep an eye on you . . . and keep quiet."
Michelle brushed tears of rage from her eyes and sat down on the hard backed chair. She watched Heather cross the room and stand next to the window, staring out at the falling snow. She noticed that the woman's eyes still glowed with the reviling contempt she had seen in the kitchen, and Michelle turned her head towards the men, still conferring around the coffee table, hoping to hear more about their plans. But there had been a pause in the conversation. Cal was lighting a cigarette, leaning back against the sofa, a pensive look on his face.
In a way, Michelle was relieved that she had not heard much, for she knew well that the very possession of such knowledge would make things increasingly hard for her. And then, suddenly, she realized something that sent a chill up her spine. Bourassa! Bourassa was a respectable businessman-and she knew now, she knew his identity. If they ever released her alive, she could tell the police who had masterminded the assassination. And then she began to understand even more than that.. . and she was amazed that Cal and the other three did not see it as well. Yes, they were all only tools that would be discarded after their purpose had been served. It was all so clear to her. Their death warrants had already been signed . . . they all knew too much . . . the whole purpose of the assassination would be sabotaged if anyone knew who had masterminded it. Bourassa had to work in complete secrecy.. . . Oh God! Michelle thought. God help us all!
The wind was blowing the last of the autumn leaves off of the few scrawny trees on the poor east end street, and the snow fell silently, covering all around in a deathly white. Michelle felt her heart go out to Cal and the others as she saw the hopelessness of it all. Even the German Shepherd seated at Cal's feet looked doomed. And despite the fact that they had raped her and run their coarse hands over and over her body as though she were nothing more than a slut off the streets, she felt pity mixed with fear for them; did they know what fate awaited them, or had their childlike idealism, perverted by the grim reality of politics, and their greed for money, make them unable to see clearly how they were doomed.
"What about the bread?" Cal asked.
"As I said, you'll get half now, half after the assassination. . . . "
"How do we know you won't cross us?" Louie suddenly demanded.
"You don't know that, do you?" Bourassa said evenly.
And suddenly, on command from Cal, Mackenzie, the German Shepherd, jumped to its feet and moved like a shot towards Bourassa. The businessman did not seem at all ruffled. Here merely said in a normal tone of voice: "Down, Mackenzie!" The huge animal snarled in rebellion, but Bourassa continued to stare directly at it. "Down," he repeated. The dog looked questioningly at Cal.
"I just want you to know we mean business, too," Cal said nervously, then added. "Down, Mackenzie." His fists were clenched as he glared down at the briefcase on the coffee table.
"I have no doubts about that," Bourassa answered, smiling sarcastically. "But this is all very childish."
Cal looked cowed. All his attempts to intimidate the older man and to retain his own precarious power had failed, and he seemed almost defeated, his command all but gone and his pride smashed.
"Now . . . you'll get one-quarter now, the rest later." And, so saying, Bourassa opened the briefcase and pulled out several bundles of thousand dollar bills.
"How the hell are we gonna use those bills without getting caught!" Cal cried out angrily.
"Take it or leave it," said Bourassa, a faint grin on his lips.
"Goddamn!" said Cal, as Bourassa counted out the money to each man, and, picking up his briefcase, left the house, stepping out onto St. Hubert Street. Ellen watched him walk down the street, thinking how this evil man appeared to be the very essence of respectability.
CHAPTER TWO
It seemed like there were thousand dollar bills flying through the air of the room, and Luc and Louie and Henri hooted and howled at the fortune that was suddenly theirs, despite the fact that it was money they might never get to spend. They had broken out another bottle of 151 rum, gulping it down straight, passing the bottle around.
Cal was in a more serious mood.
"Poor baby," Heather was saying, running her fingers through Cal's dark, curly hair. "Poor baby."
"Don't give me that shit, Heather," he barked. "Why don't you get off that high toned ass of yours and bring me some beer-bring the whole goddamned case out here."
Michelle sat in stunned silence and watched as Heather returned with a case of Black Label beer for Cal. Time seemed to stand still in the old house on St. Hubert Street; the afternoon had worn into the cold half-light of the late autumn evening. The snow had stopped, but the starless sky promised more. Soon it would be night, and Michelle's fear of what the men planned to do to her next began to grow. Luc and Louie and Henri were seated on the rug now. They had begun a game of poker, the bills now piled up in the center, and with each slap of a card, Michelle felt as though a new verdict or further confirmation of her ravishment was being sealed. Once Henri stared back at her, and Michelle caught a sliver of light that glittered up from the evilly swirling depths of lust in his eye. The silence was ominous, and the intermittent sounds of the slap of the cards and the wild whoops of the men as they called their bets, felt almost like blows to her flesh.
The thought struck Michelle that the card-playing, the drinking and even that vile expression of animal lust she had experienced the night before and undoubtedly would be subjugated to again, were expressions of deep inner fear that embraced each of the four men. Death was near, it was inescapable, and if they couldn't outrun it, then they could at least blind themselves to its approach. Then Michelle glanced at Heather, silently drinking alongside Cal on the couch. And the young brunette realized something that horrified her. Heather knew! Heather knew that this man she loved in her strange way was going to die-and worse! Michelle realized it was part of the thrill for the wealthy decadent blonde.
Then, the crazy, manic noises of the men on the rug playing cards grew more hushed, and Michelle knew that plans for the night were being made again. Occasional lewd glances were shot up towards her seated figure, and she tried to make herself as stiff and unobtrusive looking as possible. Then, suddenly, she remembered the dog; and for some reason, she shuddered at the thought of the huge animal lying in watchful repose at its master's feet.
She wanted to blot it out: she just couldn't stand the sight of the animal. If she tried to escape, he would stop her!
But the strange irrational feeling subsided as quickly as it had come upon her, and she was left to handle more realistic considerations of how she was going to avoid further attacks from the four men. She hoped beyond hope that Cal would make some kind of sign to assure her that she would be his for the evening. The thought of possessing her was not pleasant, but it was preferable to the alternatives. She knew, too, that she had been on his mind. If he took her tonight, he would have Heather's wrath to deal with, and if he didn't, he knew he had to give her to the others. Her eyes wandered across the room to the soiled rug where the three men who now play cards had ravaged her, kneading her body into tortured balls of humiliated flesh the night before. And now she found herself muttering a silent prayer-a silent pleading that Cal wouldn't let them do that to her again.
"It's getting late. Don't you think we oughta get to bed, baby?" Heather's voice suddenly broke through the heavy silence.
The gang leader remained morosely silent, but the others responded by moving away from their crap game and facing Cal and the woman who thought she owned him.
"If you want to have Heather tonight, there ain't no reason, it seems to me, we can't have another go at little Miss Cute Cunt here one more time," Luc said, and grinned at the laughter this provoked from Louie and Henri.
Cal looked up at him and, for the first time since the meeting had ended several hours earlier, smiled.
"Well, there's been a change of plans, Luc, good buddy," Cal said thickly, the alcohol he had drunk obviously affecting his speech. "She's sleeping in my bed tonight!"
Michelle felt her heart plunge into her throat. Yes, it was happening, and she just couldn't believe that this was going on right before her own eyes. It wasn't much, but she wouldn't be raped by all four men again, at least tonight.
"Cal!" Heather stamped her high-heeled foot indignantly. "What do you think you're doing!"
"Shut up, slut!" he said angrily, without looking at her.
Then the blonde changed her aloof and authoritative tactic. She began running her well-manicured fingers along Cal's well-muscled thigh. "Cal, darling, I've been wanting you so much all day . . . how can you do this to me . . . I want to fuck you so bad, Cal, you and only you."
"Shut up, I said," Cal snarled, and slapped her hard across the face. "You heard me. Besides, you know how you like a good gang bang . . . you'll have a good time. Course, these guys ain't no Olympic athletes, and this ain't the Bonaventure, but cock is cock-right, baby!"
"Cal, you can't do this to me! I won't let you." The blonde was almost losing control now.
There was a moment of pause, deadly in its silence, then Cal spoke again, his voice soft, his tone final. "You make me sick, Heather," was all he said.
Then Cal looked at Henri and said, with a gesture of indifference, "She's all yours man. Go to it! Just leave a little something for the others."
"This is ridiculous," she said. "Just ridiculous." And so saying, she stood up, pulling on her fur coat and picking up her handbag. "So long, everyone." And she began to traipse to the door.
Suddenly, Mackenzie was on his feet, growling at her, ready to strike.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, baby," Cal said. "We can't let you go.. . . It's not that we need your well-used pussy so bad.. . . It's just that you know too goddamned much, sweetheart. So take off your coat, you ain't going nowhere."
Heather turned to face him, a look of shock and panic seeming to suck the very life out of her lovely features. Then Henri, like a weasel after a rabbit, bounded across the room and, covering the distance between him and Heather in a single leap, ripped the coat from her body and threw his body against her, crushing her flat to the floor. Heather wrenched her voluptuously tall form and kicked her legs out futilely on either side of him, but the speed and suddenness of his attack were too great for her, and she lay writhing and screaming obscenities beneath his already humping body without the slightest chance of escape.
Henri clung to her, saliva running lewdly from the corners of his mouth, and his greasy hair falling over his eyes; he looked like a huge dumb beast about to devour its helpless, fear-stricken victim in a brutal feast. He had been pushed around by Cal for too long, and this was his revenge. And the blonde had always treated him with such disdain. Well, he would pay her back a thousandfold for each insult, for each look of condescension she had given him, and for each prick-teasing sway of hips that had driven him half-crazy with lust that he had known he couldn't possibly satiate while she belonged to Cal.
But now her situation had changed, and their roles were reversed. This classy Westmount broad now lay utterly prostrate and helpless beneath him. He had permission to do anything he wanted to the rich slut. Cal no longer cared what happened to her and had even chosen that she be taken first by Henri, for whom, of all the men, she had always expressed the most disdain.
Michelle watched in horror from her position on the little hard-backed chair. She felt herself wanting to help the poor defenseless woman, but could not. No one, not even Cal, could have torn the lust-crazed Henri from the sensuous blonde's body now. Michelle realized that she was just as helpless and vulnerable as Heather, and the knowledge increased her fear and dread at the horrible spectacle transpiring in front of her.
She watched as Henri pulled the face of the woman to him and mashed his thin, spittle-covered lips down hard on her gaping mouth. The kiss was hard and brutal and the girl tossed her head in an attempt to wrench her mouth out from under his, but the movement carried through with a force that sent her head rattling against the floorboards.
Heather grunted in startled pain from the shock and then, incoherent mumblings of panic began pouring from her lips, and she tried once again to escape as she looked up at Henri's evil face, so contorted with murderous rage and violence. She screamed and then her breath stopped short as she saw the attack coming-his palm swinging in a wide arc over her face. The blow came down hard, and her head hit against the floor again with a loud thud. He slapped her rapidly about half a dozen times until her shrill screaming ceased. Michelle thought that surely the woman must be unconscious, and Henri must have thought the same for he began unhooking his pants. Heather's head rebounded off the floor and she succeeded in scrambling to her knees in a burst of energy that only fear can bring.
"Cal, please, help me, darling," Heather screamed in a frantic voice.
Henri's second series of slaps came from the side and landed on the kneeling woman's face in a loud sound of hard flesh hitting soft flesh; the force of his blows sent her flying backwards, halfway across the room, where she thudded against the wall.
From her position on the chair, Michelle watched in disbelief and utter dismay. It didn't seem possible that Henri could treat the girl as roughly as he did or that Cal would allow it. But she could see with her own eyes that it was true. She shuddered to think that the same murderous treatment by the gang could well be applied to her at any moment if she didn't cooperate.
Henri lurched across the room and dragged his half-conscious victim back across the floor until the couple were once again directly in front of Michelle and Cal, who now stood beside her. Henri slapped Heather again, and Luc and Louie backed off to the other side of the room. They knew that their turn with the proud, arrogant bitch would come soon, and though they were as ready as Henri to turn their resentment and lust on her in revenge for the haughty way she had treated them, they still did not want the merchandise harmed.
The blonde was barely conscious now, and Michelle watched in stunned disgust as Henri's greedy eyes surveyed the feast spread before him. Then he began ripping the clothes off her sensually limp young body as rapidly as possible. Luc and Louie moved closer from across the room until they hovered directly over the couple, their eyes gleaming with lewd desire.
This is the way it had looked last night, Michelle thought, when it was me on the floor!
Henri's big fingers curled around the collar of the woman's dress, then with a sudden rip he tore the entire front of her dress from her upper torso, exposing the luscious fullness of her large, nakedly firm breasts with their quivering pink-aureoled nipples that had stiffened into hardness upon contact with the air.
Heather started into full consciousness at the sudden assault and once again attempted to pull herself to her knees, but Henri used his foot to brutally shove her back to the floor, yanking both the dress and her sheer bikini panties off her long, slenderly tapered legs in a quick savage movement. The voluptuous blonde lay totally exposed and defenselessly naked underneath him now, her ripe curvaceous body contrasting dramatically with his huge muscular form.
There was no resistance left in the woman now, but Henri didn't let up his animal-like attack for a minute. The sex-crazed thug clawed and pulled like a madman at her softly quivering breasts and wide, firm-fleshed buttocks. He pulled at the poor woman's red, berry-like nipples as though he were attempting to tear them off, causing her to shriek continuously in pain. Then he sprang to an obscene sitting position on her tautly writhing abdomen and curled his fingers around her small wasp-like waist in a vicious grip that brought tears of fright even to Michelle's gaping eyes.
The young brunette hostage felt tears of pity spilling uncontrollably down her own cheeks as the brutish Henri unzipped his fly and slowly twisted his pants down his legs to his ankles where they remained bunched in an obscene knot. Then, laughing like a maniac, he forced Heather's legs brutally upright, then dropped his huge body beneath them and fell onto her quivering chest, crushing her hard against the floor once again.
The couple's feet were just inches away from Michelle and her vision focused up between their legs at the woman's pink-fleshed pubic mound that was delicately covered with tendrils of sparsely curling blonde hair. The soft, wetly glistening cuntal mouth had parted slightly to reveal a second layer of blushing pussy lips between them. Then Henri savagely forced the woman's legs further apart and the jagged inner lips surfaced, curling outwards from the smooth-looking flesh of the tight-stretched opening. Above the defenseless naked target of the woman's vagina, Henri's wildly pulsating cock and his sperm-inflated balls dangled between his parted legs. A thin stream of clear, sticky-looking lubricant had already seeped out of the gaping hole at the head of his lust-swollen penis, and Michelle shivered in revulsion and disgust at the sight of it.
The sadistic man's hands pressed into Heather's fearfully cringing abdomen and then mashed the softly fleshed white orbs of her already squashed buttocks more firmly to the floor. He posed his now fully erect member just inside the straining en try way, keeping it there for what seemed to be several eternities.
Michelle could see the blood-engorged' cockhead throb and jerk as it slowly expanded Heather's small elastic cuntal mouth and pressed her wetly pink flesh inward. The full outer lips of the wailing blonde's glistening pussy spread further and further apart, and small wisps of pubic hair brushed and curled around the sides of his pulsating stiffness poised between them. Then, suddenly, Henri shoved his long thick cudgel brutally into the tightly stretched cuntal opening, and the red layer of vaginal flesh sunk inward as his massively hard cock slithered all the way to the hilt into her, bringing a scream of pain from Heather's lips.
" Aaaaaaarrrggghhh! You're hurting meeeeee!"
The blood drained from Michelle's head, and she sank back in a near-faint against the back of the chair where she sat only inches away from the couple's wildly thrashing legs. She felt dizzy and her vision blurred to the point where she thought she was going to pass out completely. But she didn't. Instead, her heart beat in her throat and she began trembling, half in fear and half in something she didn't quite understand. An obscene memory suddenly flooded into her mind without warning. She had been brutally taken like this last night! It had been different with . . . with who? Who? Abruptly she remembered!
She was no longer in the shabby old Montreal house, watching Henri's cruel violation of Cal's discarded girlfriend. No, now she was back at her house in St. Jovite, peering into the window, stunned at the unbelievable image of the man fucking her very own mother, while a second man waited his turn! Her mother, Nicole, had been wildly ecstatic-lewdly enthusiastic and enjoying it -as she lifted her heels onto the man's buttocks in an effort to force his penis deeper, deeper into her insanely thrusting loins that writhed wantonly back and forth while her vagina climbed steadily up the lewd pole of the man's stiffened flesh thrusting into her like a piston rod.
Everything looked the same to Michelle, except that now she could see the all too vivid close-up of Heather's blushing pussy flesh clinging to Henri's wetly glistening penis on the out-stroke, before the cuntal lips disappeared back inside as the huge man rammed his hardened shaft forward again. There was one other difference between the scene with her mother and what was happening here! Her mother had been almost delirious with sexual enjoyment. Heather was screaming like a , wounded animal.
Michelle wanted to ask Cal to stop the attack, but she knew it was useless. Henri was already master of the woman that he had beaten into a yelling mass of submission; it was only a matter of seconds before Heather became adjusted to the rape. Even so, Cal couldn't have interfered if he wanted to; he had offered the woman to Henri and had allowed the brutal sadist to mistreat her, and now Henri's first maniacal strokes into her wetly cringing cunt had sealed the poor helpless woman's fate.
Heather's mouth opened and contorted soundlessly on her anguished face, too stunned to even make a protest. She twisted her nakedly voluptuous body to escape the hotly stabbing cock, but Henri thrust harder, screwing his pelvis tighter into her loins so there was ho escape. She was trapped . . . trapped . . . and he lay over her for a moment wanting her to realize the helplessness of her position, proud that he could hurt her this way.
From the beginning, when the tall blonde had tortured and teased him to the point of madness, Henri had known it would be like this if he could only get his long hard cock into her smart-assed softness. And he was skewered into her good now; she was so deeply impaled on his rod of flesh that he could hurt her all he wanted, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. After all, Cal himself had said she was his to do what he wanted with. The powerfully built sadist reveled in the power he had over the leader's former girlfriend as he flexed the head of his impatiently throbbing cock against the tight wall of her wetly cringing cunt, bringing a low moan from the stuck up bitch's gaping mouth.
Heather choked and sputtered beneath him in her ultimate humiliation of being rejected by a man so far below her socially, now at the mercy of the sadistically gloating Henri. In only a few moments, her pride and assurance had plunged to depths of shame and fear beyond her wildest imagination. She knew that she would be tossed to Luc and Louie-both of whom hated her arrogance-when Henri was through with her body. They would shamelessly abuse her and violently fuck her when and how they desired until her beautiful body lay hopelessly battered on the dirty floor, totally useless to anyone. She had spent her life slumming and looking for new thrills-but this was far more than she had ever bargained for!
"Cal, baby, God! Make him stop! Please, make him stop," she screamed as Henri flexed his throbbing hardness mockingly inside her again.
"Fuck off, you bitch," the drunken leader said cruelly.
Heather's bulging eyes gaped wider in piteous disbelief when Cal continued to stand silently beside the fearfully cringing Michelle; he merely stared at the woman stonily and without sympathy. He had given his word to Henri and his men, and he couldn't go back on it. The sensually naked blonde began to toss her head wildly from side to side on the dirty floor as the realization struck her with grim certainty that she had completely lost her power over her only possible defender . . . that another female had taken her place . . . and she was just a helpless female body to them.
Then Henri sank his impatiently pulsing hardness brutally deeper, beginning to plunge into her with long hard strokes that enveloped the full length of his erectly throbbing prick. The naked blonde pulled back under him, grinding her firmly fleshed buttocks down against the floor in pain, and moaning ceaselessly beneath his pounding body. Her mouth gaped open wide as her lovely golden hair flailed from side to side on the hard floorboards again and again in utter anguish. A whimper gurgled from her throat as Henri clenched his cruelly digging fingers under the backs of her thighs and pulled her legs forward until her knees were pressed against her shoulders. She was set and open and helpless now, and he had complete access to her voluptuous body as he began to fuck into her with ever-increasing brutal, hard-driving strokes.
"Oooooooh, God, Cal, stop him. Stop him!" Heather shrieked, then gagged in pain.
There was a seemingly endless pause lasting so long that Michelle thought Cal wouldn't even bother to answer his former girlfriend. "Sorry," be finally spat out at her nakedly thrashing body, "You just ain't worth it. You may be gorgeous on the outside, baby, but inside you must look like a can of worms. . . you're no good, Heather. You're just getting what you know you want. . . after all, you're not bored now, love . . . are you?"
"God, Please Cal. Anybody but Henri! He's horrible!" Heather wailed.
But her wild supplications and moans were cut off abruptly when, without any prior warning, Henri's hand swung over her face and he smashed his flat palm down hard on her half-open mouth. Heather's further pleas were choked back deep in her chest and issued forth over the hand around her mouth in incoherent mumblings and piteous gurgling. The sadistic Henri, inflamed by her insults and encouraged by Cal's silence, spread his hand over her mouth and under the tall blonde's nostrils until Michelle thought that surely the woman would suffocate, but all the while the mumblings continued while Henri wildly thrust his hips back and forth, fucking her more violently and brutally than before.
Heather was torturously bent now, her knees pulled back over her shoulders and scraping against the floorboards on each side of her head.
Above her jackknifed form, Henri's stiff arm ground into her mouth and extended above her face like a lever from which the rest of his powerful body slapped and beat against Heather's naked voluptuousness in an even more lust-crazed momentum. Below her, his long stiff hardness thrust mercilessly with all his strength into the tight little cuntal opening of her upraised crotch being presented up to him to batter and use as he willed. The long dangling leathery sac of his sperm-bloated balls swung lewdly beneath his legs, slamming fiercely into the sweating crevice of her quivering young rectum with each harsh stroke; the obscene sight caused Michelle to shiver with terror and repugnance from where she sat behind the lewdly splayed legs of the couple.
She didn't want to hear and covered her ears, but nothing could shut out those animal-like sounds of fucking. She closed her eyes in an attempt to separate herself from the salacious spectacle transpiring before her, but she involuntarily opened them wide again when she heard Henri ram into the blonde so hard that her back bounced up and down against the floorboards.
Michelle stiffened, her eyes agape in horror as the sadistic rapist seemed to lose all control of himself and began to churn and revolve his pelvis into the woman's widely-stretched pink vaginal slit in a maniacal sexual frenzy. His downward thrusts slammed Heather's softly fleshed buttocks down hard against the cold floor, and when he pulled outward he dragged her whole sweating body up with a wet sucking sound. Michelle thought that surely Henri would kill the tall blonde as she saw right before her eyes his already long, blood-engorged instrument expand and lengthen to monstrous proportions with each stroke he made into the woman.
The helpless young brunette hostage quivered involuntarily at the sight of the wet inflamed flesh of Heather's tightly clasping vagina being drawn out and then sucked inward with each thrust that the long white cock made into her moist warm hole.
And then Michelle gasped aloud as she heard a low guttural sound coming from deep in Henri's chest and saw his powerful muscular body slam into the woman one final time as though he meant to drive her through the floor. He buckled and collapsed over her half way, falling onto her painfully quaking chest as his naked buttocks indented and he began spewing his white sticky sperm deep into Heather's defenselessly upraised cunt.
Michelle saw his hands flail out and tangle cruelly on the woman's hips, holding her pelvis to the throbbing of his loins as he pushed his wildly jerking penis all the way down to her cervix. White sticky liquid bubbled up and overflowed around the thick base of his wetly glistening cock, the heated cum oozing down his trembling thighs and into the wide-spread crevice between Heather's buttocks.
As his cock slowly deflated in the tortured woman's stretched and battered cunt, Michelle could see the wetness continue to slowly seep out until it was puddling in a pearl-colored pool of thick liquid on the bare wood floor. Heather's legs had fallen heavily to the side, and Henri continued to lie on top of her for a good while in a collapsed heap, until his gradually deflating cock slipped out of the tight sheath-like cunt with a wet sucking sound. Then the huge, brutal man crawled cockily to his feet, and stood over the girl's limp defeated form with a proud expression on his face as he pulled up his pants and zipped up his fly. She wasn't so high and mighty now, this little Westmount bitch, she was no longer too good for him, and she and everyone else knew it!
CHAPTER THREE
Slowly, Heather pulled herself up to a sitting position, her eyes glaring bitterly at Michelle. Slowly, the blonde pulled herself up to a sitting position on the floor and then wobbled on to her knees like a drunken woman. Michelle looked at her tottering, unsteady figure and only then realized the full, sensual beauty of the woman for the first time. She was much taller than Michelle and possessed an arrogant, sense of assurance even in her present battered condition. Her shoulders were broad and supported by enormous, widely-spaced breasts with large reddish nipples like the buds of a red rose. She created an illusion of strength and delicacy at the same time, and her sliver of a waist blossomed out over wide, womanly hipbones to the roundness of her firmly fleshed buttocks. Her lithe, strong-looking limbs and flashing eyes reminded Michelle of a cat that was about to pounce, and Michelle shuddered as she considered what might happen to her once the woman did get her strength back. Her pride had suffered a disastrous blow and, though there was nothing the woman could do to retrieve her lost status, Michelle sensed she would do everything for revenge on the person she considered responsible. And that person was Michelle Dubois!
Instinctively, the young brunette hostage found herself glancing frantically at Cal for protection. He was her single bulwark of security in this depraved, chaotic world against the rejected and angry woman.
Michelle began trembling in spite of herself and moved closer to Cal. Her fearfully trembling hand shook his arm as though to alarm him to the impending danger. Her mind grew almost frantic with fear again, and she realized she would beg or humiliate herself in any way that he required for his strength and protection. She had to; there was no one else to turn to.
Cal had been drinking heavily and he chuckled out loud as he felt the young girl tugging in panic on his arm. She was in a position of complete dependence on him now . . . he knew it, and she knew it! He hadn't planned for Heather's wrath to drive the girl to him, but now that it had happened he wasn't too surprised. He had known from the beginning that he couldn't lose in his desire to totally possess her -it was just a matter of the particular circumstances that would drive her to him. If it hadn't been this, it would have been something else, probably Henri.
As it was, he was satisfied. No matter how it had happened. The young brunette girl was now groveling in her fear and tugging at his arm as though he were her absolute last hope in life-trembling like a frightened little wild animal in sheer terror of what could and would happen to her if the humiliated Heather ever got her hands on her. And she was correct in her fear! Heather's usual cool air always had a touch of the pathological about it. He knew that
Heather was capable of doing anything. No, he would take the little brunette to bed with him tonight, and Heather would have more than her hands full as soon as she was alone with the others. They would be even rougher with her than they had been with that brunette bitch. But that was all right. Finding oneself at the whims of others seemed to be the order of the moment. He realized that he, too, was at the behest of Bourassa, just like Heather was at his command. If things didn't go well, he would pay for the miscalculations, just as Heather was suffering for her miscalculation of just how much cheap thrills she could handle. Still, though, his decision to toss her to that big bastard Henri had been made in a moment of anger. He wished he hadn't done it, but there was nothing he could do about that now, and it seemed to fit in with this new incomprehensible system of justice.
The only thing left for him to do was to enjoy himself, and he planned to enjoy this night, probably his last night in Canada, with Michelle to the fullest. He would take from her all she had to give and more besides. Last night he had heard her shrieking out her wild orgasms; she was a hot little fuck, even if she didn't know it herself yet. Yes, he would put her through all the paces he could think of, and he wasn't going to let this tenderness he seemed to momentarily feel for her get in the way of his pleasure. It had been a long time since he had felt this gentleness toward anyone and it bothered him. There wasn't any way to consider it but utter sentimental weakness and he meant to overcome it. In fact, it would be dangerous for him if he started thinking like that.
Still, though, last night it had almost torn him apart when he had lain in the bedroom upstairs and listened to her screaming and fighting impossibly against the greater strength of the other three men who had taken her. Then her screams had turned to moans, then mewls, then shrieking encouragement to "fuck harder!" It had been humiliating for her, he guessed, but there was nothing he could have done about it. Maintaining his position of power over that unruly group came first. She'd had to eat her humble pie just like he'd had to this afternoon with Bourassa, and Heather was doing now. Still, maybe tonight the little brunette would get with it and really enjoy it; after all, he was prepared to be gentle as long as she wanted him to be gentle.
His attention suddenly jerked back to the brutal present with the tightening of Michelle's hand on his arm once again. He started when her fingers grasped his hairy forearm in a tight pinch, and he looked back in time to see the homicidal Heather swaying on her feet towards Michelle with her face contorted in an unbelievable look of venomous hatred and anger. The tall blonde tottered on her shaking legs and her arms swooped out in front of her unsteady body, as though she were about to pounce on the cringing Michelle. Then she did exactly that.
"Catch her, Luc!" Cal shouted quickly.
Luc jumped forward, intercepting Heather in her wild lurch towards Michelle, and clenched his powerful arms in a vise-like grip around her nakedly supple shoulders and neck. Heather tottered out of balance for a moment in mid-air, then fell back against Luc's chest, her falling weight sliding down his front until her bare buttocks hit the floor. She lay at his feet totally naked and helpless, and stared vacantly at the rough plank flooring. There was no fight left in her now at ail and she covered her face with her hands, beginning to sob uncontrollably as she realized her attack on Michelle had only succeeded in speeding her ravishment by another one of the men.
Luc grabbed her by the arms and dragged her like a dead horse over to the armchair. Then he sat on the chair and grinned down at her, enjoying the spectacle of her kneeling naked like a slave at his feet. He too had grown tired of her haughty airs, and he had wondered too long what her full soft lips would look like warmly ovaled around his long white cock, and he was about to find out now.
He was about to find out just exactly how it would feel to shoot his hot stream of impatient cum down that long, swan-like throat. He would spew it into her until her Adam's apple bobbed up and down as she gulped it into her to keep from choking. The thought of his heatedly pulsating hardness wormed between those untouchable lips that had scorned him before, goaded his organ into a rock-like rigidity that jerked painfully against his pants. He bent over, a lewd grin on his face, and with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand pulled her lower lip tight between his fingers, enjoying her look of startled horror. He pulled the full fleshy lips out, studying its soft pink undersides, and relished the obscene feeling of power it gave him to watch her beautiful aristocratic face as it dawned on her what he meant her to do.
Michelle froze. She could not move and her heart raced in total sympathy for the woman who strained her head backwards, the cords in her neck standing out, trying to escape the teasing fingers in her mouth. The men were heaping more and more humiliations upon her. They would not stop. The brunette hostage knew that the woman was her avowed enemy and that Heather would hurt her without thoughts of mercy or hesitation if she got the chance. Michelle also knew that she was lucky it was Heather there so nakedly prostrate at the man's knees and not her. But she couldn't help identifying completely with the tall blonde for this was what had happened to her last night when Luc had brutally raped her vagina at the same time that Louie had raped her virginal mouth.
"What are you moving back for?" Luc chuckled down to the once-haughty woman kneeling at his feet. "You know it ain't gonna do ya no good, and ya might as well enjoy it."
Cal's former girlfriend began trembling visibly beneath him, and her sudden obvious display of fear signalled clearly to everyone in the shabby room that she knew Luc was right and that she was hopelessly cornered.
Then, even as Michelle watched in sympathy, the trembling ceased, and the blonde regained her almost arrogant sense of composure. The piteous expression on her face was replaced by a fatalistic acceptance as she realized it was useless to continue to resist Luc or the demands of the men that would follow. Anyway, nothing could be as bad as what she had already gone through, nothing could equal the shame and humiliation of lying wide and open under the brutal sadism of Henri, and feeling his depraved sperm ricocheting around every inch of her belly.
No. . . there was no hope whatsoever of escape from her defenseless position. Cal was not going to help her, and she might as well do everything she could to please the men and get them on her side for later . . . when she sought her revenge on that little French bitch who had taken her man away.
Yes, it was Michelle's fault that Heather was now in this degrading and shameful position before men that she wouldn't have stooped to spit on under ordinary circumstances. Michelle had taken Cal away from her, and now she found herself utterly helpless and vulnerable. But she would get even, she would make Michelle suffer each indignity she was going through herself now. What Heather had to fuck, Michelle would fuck. What Heather had to suck, Michelle would suck. She would make that bitch go through everything she'd had to and more . . . and then she'd fix her so no man would ever want her again.. . .
Then Heather's thoughts of sweet revenge-abruptly faded as she saw the hungry expression on the faces of Luc and Louie . . . and Henri again. Her fear returned as she recalled how she had mocked and teased these men, and something about their cruelly glinting eyes made her realize how completely aware they were of the disdain and scorn she'd always had for them. There wasn't one, no one, that she hadn't mocked with a haughty glance or a derisive laugh, not one she could count on now not to take full revenge on her and she knew there would be no mercy for her. Her time had come, and she knew she would get it good and hard, right down her screaming throat.. . just like in those weird dreams she would have, nightmares that somehow, deep in her heart, she knew she enjoyed, looked forward to dream, for they thrilled her more than anything else.
"That's right," Luc hissed down at her suddenly submissive form. "You never thought you'd wind up a loser, did you, baby. But that's just what you are now, you rich bitch-a loser!"
Heather's glance shot up to Luc, her eyes burning in a reflection of her inner fear and contempt for him, but she didn't speak or move a single one of her sleekly velvety muscles. Instead, her face turned into a kind of mask, a death mask-expressionless and totally immobile-as though she had suddenly thrown a switch which had shut off all feelings, both mental and physical. Luc bent down and cupped his hands over her large, nakedly swinging breasts, and she remained still, looking like a statue of a Greek Aphrodite with only a slight quivering of her nostrils belying the anger and revulsion building deep inside her.
"I love a good loser," Luc chortled, his voice becoming hoarse from his mounting excitement.
He ran his open palms over the full weight of her firmly rounded white breasts and then pulled with his thumbs and forefingers at the small cherry-red nipples. The exposed buds quivered and throbbed into hardness at the squeezing pressure of his harsh touch. His breath deepened and grew heavier with lewd desire. He was all too aware of the control he had over her and moved his hands with tortuous slowness down to the curving indentation of her small narrow waist. All the while, the tall blonde kneeled perfectly still; she was forced to let him do what he would with her.
"I ain't taking no seconds," he murmured as though in explanation as he bent lower over her. "I ain't going to fuck you where Henri did. No, you're gonna take my prick in your sweet little mouth and suck it good."
Still, he let his hands roam slowly over the flatness of her firmly taut belly, and then gradually moved to her sparse, hair-covered pubic mound. He ran one outstretched finger between the swollen, tender-fleshed cuntal lips into the warm steaming slit still wet and slippery from the repeated gushes of heatedly thick sperm Henri had spewed into her a short while ago. Heather began trembling again, and Luc smiled confidently as he continued his probing exploration. A low helpless groan escaped from between her tightly clenched teeth when his finger slid mockingly over the straining little bud of her clitoris.
His arms swung out suddenly, and he harshly grabbed at the quivering white cheeks of her full firm ass. Heather jerked and squealed as he stretched the damp crevice between her buttocks wide and searched with the tip of his extended middle finger for her tiny, tightly puckered anus. Suddenly, he found the cringing opening, and she jumped forward, almost crawling up his chest, to escape the first unexpected pain. The acne-scarred punk ignored her squeal of protest and pressed hard, feeling the tiny brown orifice give a little, and then suddenly the tight elastic anal ring gave way completely, and his finger slid in up to the first knuckle joint.
Heather was struggling again now with every ounce of energy that she possessed in an attempt to escape the cruelly digging finger screwing into her buttocks. She pulled and pushed with all her strength at his arm that circled around her, but the movement merely increased the searing pain.
"You're hurting me," she yelled, pounding on his chest with her fists.
Luc turned his head and grinned down again at her naked young body quivering so helplessly on his single finger. He screwed it in deeper and his nail caught the flesh momentarily in her rectum, scraping her. She jerked and squealed again. Luc grinned from ear to ear obviously enjoying her pain and torment. The sight of the supple flesh of her curvaceous body kneeling vulnerably beneath him incited his lust even more. He gasped as he took in her large breasts dangling on each side of his legs, those same fantastic breasts that he had eyed in sacred lust so many times in the past. He wondered how they would look jerking and dancing below her pumping torso as she sucked the full length of his plunging cock buried deep in her warm, wetly clasping mouth. By God, she'll shove it all the way down to her fucking tonsils when the moment came, he thought, feeling the pressure growing in his balls.
Heather had discovered that the burning pain in her rectum diminished to a low throbbing hurt when she didn't move, and now she knelt before him in statue-like submission. She tried to forget her present anguish and humiliation and concentrated instead on what she would do to the little French bitch when she got her hands on her. And she knew that she would sooner or later. She would keep her mouth closed and not say anything more against the girl; and in a matter of hours she would find herself alone with her. Then she would make the little bitch suffer all the degradation she was going through now. It would be an easy matter to turn the other men on the girl, and if they weren't around . . . well, she would enjoy slowly tearing her beauty into ugly little pieces . . . yes, and herr little pearl-handled knife would be just perfect for that. She knew she was stronger than the girl, and her mind raced on in her anger and hate.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the rasping sound of a zipper being pulled open. She moaned deep in her throat and her eyes shadowed in disgust and revulsion as Luc's free hand struggled with the opening of his pants.
"I can see you're just dying for it," he chided gleefully. "But we ain't gonna hurry. No, we've got lotsa time."
He lifted his buttocks slightly from the chair, his outstretched middle finger still wormed securely in the deepest recesses of her defenseless rectum, and tugged his pants down his hairy abdomen. They caught for a moment, at the bulging obstacle of his now fully erect penis and then, suddenly freed, his massively throbbing cock jumped straight out from his belly.
"Pull the pants down my legs," he grunted happily at her look of dismay. "I want to give you lots of room to work with."
Heather complied after a second's hesitation and pulled his trousers down his heavy legs until they were bunched in a disordered heap around his ankles. Her head reeled at the sight of his pulsating, blood-engorged penis cleaving out from his belly, and the sperm-inflated sac of his balls squashed against the seat of the chair. She fought the urge to slam them with her closed fist. But the blonde woman knew better than to resist now, and she focused instead on the revenge she would seek later when she had the advantage. She flinched but didn't protest as Luc's free hand began to roam in wild excitement over every inch of her nakedly exposed torso that kneeled in a position of lewd subservience before him.
Luc's eyes moved gloatingly over the voluptuous curves that had been denied him for so long, but were now hovering beneath him like a pagan making a sacrificial offering. His hand harshly kneaded her firm globular breasts, her resiliency rounded ass cheeks, and the smooth soft flesh at the curve of her sleek upper thighs until he could stand no longer the maddening torture building deep in his balls.
Suddenly, and without any prior warning, his hand tangled in her pale golden hair and pulled Heather's sensually beautiful face closer to his jutting groin. Her eyes widened at the full view of his impatiently pulsing penis with its mighty sac of sperm-bloated testicles only scant inches in front of her. Her mouth tightened in revulsion as his free hand circled around the long thick cock and gradually pulled the heavy foreskin back, exposing the red bulbous head. Then Luc shifted closer and Heather closed her eyes as he began moving the thick blunt hardness over her upturned face. She began trembling again in shame and humiliation as she felt it rub like a red-hot poker over her cheeks and around the edges of her tightly closed mouth.
Michelle's skin turned beet red in embarrassment for the woman who was forced to remain on her knees before the man and forced to feel his throbbing hardness rub over the softness of her face as his thick finger began to fuck rapidly in and out of her defenselessly puckering little rectum.
"Aaaaaarrrggghhh," the tall blonde moaned in pain as the finger began skewering ever more violently into the sensitive spongy depths of her anus.
"Open your mouth," Luc commanded with a lewd grin on his face. Heather hesitated a moment, and his hands tightened painfully in her silky black hair, pulling the skin back from her temples.
Michelle's eyes widened in horror at the terrifying scene of humiliation and torture rapidly building into utter depravity and animalism before her unbelieving eyes. Had this been the way she looked last night when Louie had fucked in and out her mouth?
Luc began groaning now, foul obscenities spewing from his contorted lips as he roughly shoved the woman's face deep into his groin. He spread his heavy thighs and the girl's entire head seemed to sink into the hairy depths surrounding his testicles. His hand, tangling painfully in the blonde wavy hair, guided her wetly parted lips over the fleshy, swollen sac of his balls dangling down between his widespread legs, then slowly forced her face down the inner sides of his eagerly trembling thighs.
Then, abruptly, as though he could stand his own cruel torturing no longer, he ripped the finger from her anus, and, with both hands free now, yanked her head roughly by the hair until her face was once again poised directly over his long, violently throbbing cock. Without further hesitation, he gruffly thrust his loins forward and groaned when the warm moistness of her open mouth closed over the sensitive head of his pulsating hardness.
"Now, suck my cock, baby," he swallowed deeply above the woman hunched over his loins. "Suck it good and hard, and I'll give you a present."
Slowly the girl began to nibble in fear of the further pain and humiliation that would come to her if she refused him. Michelle watched the lewd effects of the woman's efforts to play over Luc's face as he felt the first moist firm pull of Heather's lips over his cock, then the warm suction when she slowly lifted her head and let his long member slide wetly through the tightly clasping insides of her mouth. An involuntary whimper of dismay and shame escaped from Michelle's lips as the scene brought back lewd memories of the previous night and her own mouth working obscenely over Louie's stiffened penis in the same utter helplessness. The sight of Heather sucking away, coupled with her own memories, caused a momentary twitch in Michelle's suddenly moistening vagina. Vague, dimly felt echoes of her repeated orgasms rippled faintly through her loins, and quickly she forced herself to begin thinking of other things.
"Come on, baby, come on," Luc grunted fiercely and pulled maliciously at her hair. "Suck harder, harder.. . suck damn you! Ahhhhh, that's more like it, you beautiful little cocksucker. Ahhhh . . . "
Heather's head began a rapid bobbing rhythm and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked harder. The flesh of her tightly compressed lips pulled out grotesquely and clung to the long white trunk of his penis as she nibbled and licked, her frightened mind caught up in the task with all her concentration. The kneeling woman twirled her tongue around the moist stickiness of the blood-inflated head on each out-stroke, and the nerve-tingling lick made the cock tip throb and jerk so that the entire long column seemed to grow rapidly right before Michelle's eyes.
"Don't stop, keep sucking like that, keep sucking!" he gasped to the tortured woman who slaved dutifully below him, her body glistening from the tiny droplets of sweat that began to form over her skin.
Luc was gasping in pleasure, his hands tangled tighter in Heather's long blonde hair, and he began to convulsively ram his massive male hardness further and further down her throat. He bent his head slightly to the side in order to watch her contorted face. The profile of his hardened shaft sawed rhythmically in and out of her wetly ovaled mouth and disappeared with each vicious inward thrust he made until only a little stretch of it showed white and glistening as it lewdly protruded from between her lips.
Michelle twisted her hands nervously and watched in utter helplessness. She prayed desperately that the men's attention wouldn't suddenly return to her in the terrible heat of passion that they had all worked themselves into from watching Heather's dancing torso, her naked full breasts jerking and swaying lewdly as her mouth pumped up and down over Luc's still erect cock. Louie hovered anxiously around the couple, his eyes gleaming in obscene anticipation while he waited his turn with the haughty, fallen Westmount socialite, and Henri leaned against the wall, stroking his own once again hardened cock between both of his hands at the same time. Michelle glanced up at Cal, a silent plea for protection in her eyes, but he looked at her impassively, then turned back to watch the obscene spectacle. She found herself hoping that he would take her to his room soon, just as he had said he was going to do at the beginning of the horrible evening. The brunette hostage knew from his rapid breathing and bulging pants that he too was excited from watching the cruel assault on Heather and that he would do terrible things to her and expect her to do disgusting things to him. No matter how disgusting, though, she would do it because it would get her safely out of the room and away from the wantonly perverted scene that threatened to make her sick at any moment. No, nothing could be as bad as this, even submitting to Cal's whims.
Luc groaned and thrust his loins forward involuntarily as the naked blonde kneeled before him like a lovely slave. Heather could feel the spongy heated head rub the full length of her tongue before embedding itself deep in her throat, and could taste and smell the sharp pungent flavor and odor of the tiny droplets of seminal fluid that seeped from the tip of his cock in his rising excitement. But she didn't think about what was about to happen; she considered instead the cruel and bizarre punishments she would mete out when she got her hands on the rotten French bitch who was responsible for this. Her thoughts returned to the task at hand only when Luc's hands pushed her wetly clinging mouth down harder on the long hard cock screwing so mercilessly into her face.
She began sucking to end it, her head bobbing like a cork in the stormy seas over his maniacally pumping loins. She sucked demon-like, swishing her tongue with a vengeance now around and around the throbbing head sliding in and out of her widely ovaled lips-wanting him to cum and get it over with. Her mouth was full of saliva and she hollowed the smooth wet insides on the out-stroke and expanded them on the in-stroke, allowing her hot breath to race over the air-cooled trunk with a maddening rhythm.
Luc's semen-laden balls beat a staccato rhythm against her upturned chin, and the saliva-matted curly blonde pubic hair covering his lower stomach brushed against her face with frantic thrust for release.
Luc's desire mounted with the lewd power he now had over the woman who submissively accepted his cock's violent plunges into her mouth and even matched them with a driving, sucking vengeance of her own. He clasped his palms tight against her ears and enjoyed the way she tightened her lips and increased the speed of her movement even more, as though she would do anything to appease him. He wanted to spurt his hot cum all the way down her throat and into that white little belly of hers until she burst. He wanted to debase and completely humiliate this smart-ass little bitch for all the times she had humiliated him when she was under Cal's protection.
Now Cal's presence magnified his pleasure because he knew it made Heather's predicament that much more shameful and degrading. She was sucking voraciously on Luc's rapidly expanding cock while both she and he knew that Cal himself was watching. All the men were watching the way he had brought Heather to her knees and forced the high society bitch to please him like the lowest of prostitutes. He watched her lick and suck on his thickly thrusting cock, and as the image transcribed itself obscenely on his brain he felt the pressure growing in his balls.. . and he knew it wouldn't be much longer now. He could hardly wait for the moment when he spewed his white hot stream of cum in rushing gushes into her mouth and forced her to swallow it down that pretty little throat of hers.
The nakedly kneeling blonde's head bobbed wildly now in her desperation, and he felt the unbearable pressure building--building deep in his impatiently pulsating balls. It felt like he was sitting on a ticking time bomb that was about to go off. There could be no more waiting, something had to give before he exploded in a thousand different directions. Then he felt his erupting sperm begin its mad race up the long length of his insanely jerking cock.
The moment was now!
He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though he were being tortured by fire. His head fell back and he arched his loins up into her slavering face, tangling his hands cruelly in her hair and holding her head tight against his loins while he rammed his long exploding shaft into the tight warm softness between her tongue and the roof of her sucking mouth. He groaned over and over again, and a low guttural sound started from deep in his chest as he pushed the wildly jerking penis all the way down to her tonsils. His hands pressed hard against her cheeks so that her mouth tightened while he convulsively fucked his lust-hardened-cock deeper and deeper into her mouth.
Then he felt his cum spewing out thick heated streams into the soft sanctity of her wet hot mouth. Gush after gush of the white hot sperm bloated her cheeks outward with each bullet-like squirt and she swallowed frantically to keep from choking. . . gasping and gagging at his thrusting loins. His hands tangled in her hair and held her warmly ovaled mouth tight to the emptying cock while he shot the last of his heated load deep into the confines of her still sucking mouth until every last drop of the warm sticky sperm had been nibbled from his rapidly deflating hardness.
The flaccid penis slipped slowly with a wet sucking sound from the woman's mouth, but her throat continued to tighten and relax, swallowing in great desperate gulps in an effort to clear her mouth and throat of his warm pungent sperm.
Heather knew her nightmare was not yet over . . . there would be still more humiliating brutality to suffer, for Louie had not yet had his chance.
And Michelle knew too, that for her, this night of horrors had only just begun.
CHAPTER FOUR
Upstairs in Cal's bedroom, Michelle could hear Heather's wails of anguish, as the men continued their assault of the statuesque blonde in the living room below. The pretty brunette French Canadian girl, who until yesterday had been virginally innocent, waiting for the day she and her boyfriend Serge could be married, waiting for the wedding night she had envisioned so ecstatically, now felt as if her heart would break for what she had lost-all chance of the happiness that belongs to the pure.
But there was no time to slip into self-pity, for her ordeal was far from over. For Cal, whose form loomed over the bed as he stood beside it, backlit only by the light from a streetlamp outside the window, had grown sullen and bitter. It seemed to Michelle that a fierce anger boiled just below the surface. The lovely young brunette couldn't look at him. Instead, she stared, as though in a trance, at the ceiling, too frightened to turn her head when she heard Cal stripping the clothing from his muscular body. She heard him unzipping his pants, then his belt hit with a loud clang against the floor, and she stiffened as he sat down on the mattress to pull the trousers and his undershorts off his ankles. Then there was only the horrible suspenseful silence, broken only by occasional male grunts of passion mixed with Heather's pathetic cries below.
Michelle quivered and waited for the weight of his naked body to fall suddenly and heavily in plundering passion on her vulnerably reclining form, but it didn't. Instead, he sat quietly next to her, his deep breathing the only evidence of his rising passion, and glanced for a moment at the stark shadows the lamplight from the street cast on the crumbling walls before he turned slowly to her small deliciously curving form. Michelle didn't have to glance to the side to know that he was studying her barely covered young body, his hungry eyes traveling a slow burning path of hot desire and admiration up the entire length of her form, coming to rest on the protruding outline of her large, ripely firm breasts beneath the torn, ragged red sweater.
"You're pretty," Michelle suddenly heard a voice speak softly below the frantic rising shrieks of Heather that were rapidly growing louder in intensity from the other room, and her first impulse was to cast a frightened glance around to see who it was that had spoken so gently. But no new assailant appeared; there was only herself and Cal on the bed with their two separate shadows dancing aginst the walls. It was Cal who had spoken in that strange, suddenly tender voice. But it was a Cal that she hadn't prepared herself for after the long day in which he had seemed even more aloof and dangerously angry than usual. She had sensed a certain well-hidden protectiveness in his attitude towards her at first, but after his humiliating encounter with Bourassa it had seemed to vanish. Now its reemergence left her confused and frightened. She had finally decided after permitting Henri's sadistically cruel assault on
Heather-and obviously enjoying what the big brute had done to his former girlfriend-that he was as much an animal as the others. But now with this sudden tenderness, she was unsure again.
"I hope they didn't hurt you," he spoke to the wall, and then he bent his head, almost as though he didn't want to face her from shyness or embarrassment.
"I'm still alive," Michelle said suspiciously and glanced at his profile in order to see his reaction to her words. She didn't want to get her hopes up. She was surprised when he sighed heavily in seeming agreement at the horror of her predicament the previous night.
"Aaaaaaggghhhhhh -No! You 're killing meeeeee!"
Heather's high piercing shriek shot through the house like the long wail of a siren and interrupted the tender scene. Then, suddenly, Cal turned towards Michelle revealing his fully naked body for the first time, and to her own surprise and amazement she didn't cringe or even glance away. She supposed that they had beaten and abused her so much in the last twenty-four hours that nothing could move her now except the terror of being thrown to the others to be used as a plaything as she had been before. Michelle jerked suddenly at Heather's abjectly pleading moan, and loud, sadistically gleeful laughter came from downstairs. Yes, yes, she shuddered and sank back onto the bed . . . anything Cal did would be better than being the subject of those foul male comments coming down the hallway now, indicating that Louie was fucking into Heather while Luc and Henri watched in lewd pleasure.
Cal laid his hand on Michelle's shoulder, mistaking her slight tremble in response to the crude remarks from the other men, as the beginning of surrender. And in a way, the half-drunk gang leader was right. Michelle's will to resist had finally been destroyed by the unrelenting torture and cruel pain that the men had put her through. At some inexact moment since the men had forced her into their van off the highway outside of St. Agathe, she had given up the struggle. She herself wasn't sure of when the exact turning point in her anguished emotions had occurred, for her resistance had disappeared so gradually and imperceptibly under the seemingly endless torture. All she knew now was that her hopes had changed, and she no longer aspired to. escape the men but simply to endure them . . . to exist.. . to live! More than anything, she hoped that they wouldn't hurt her any more, and that when Cal made love to her he wouldn't do it cruelly. Her determination had been overcome by a fatigue-wracked desire to escape further pain, and now the tenderness with which he caressed her helped allay her fears. . . and she lay beneath him quietly and unresisting.
The sight of the voluptuous young girl stretched languidly on the bed sobered the ex-revolutionary. Once he had been an idealist. . . once he had believed in goodness. It seemed so long ago to him now that he had ever been young, and he looked at Michelle with almost a kind of reverence. At another time, in another situation, things might have been different with her . . . a little farm in northern
Quebec, with fields of corn and chickens, a milk cow . . . peaceful, loving.. . hot bread in the morning, and the sound of children laughing . . . But now here they were, both of them robbed by fate of any hope of a normal life.
But after tomorrow, after the assassination, if all their plans went well, they would be flown to Cuba like the FLQ members several years ago . . . she could come with him . . . they would have their little farm there, they would work hard for the new country and he would put enough good into the world to make up for his sins. But could you atone for. . . murder.. . . ?
Shit! The Prime Minister was a fucking capitalist bastard. He deserved to die. In a way, Cal thought, the Prime Minister was not so different from himself. They were both miserable bastards who, somewhere along the line, got corrupted. Everyone knew the Prime Minister had been a left-wing idealist in his youth, had traveled to China and Cuba, and in fact, had been banned from the U.S. right up until he was elected. Both of them, the Prime Minister and his assassin, were men who had once believed in something, and who had been changed and corrupted by the hard facts of life.. . .
Yes, but still, he didn't deserve to die . . . not any more than Cal did. But it was too late! Too late! Now it was a question of his life or the Prime Minister's, for if he didn't go through with it, Bourassa would never leave him alive. . . He knew too much, much too much . . . And the girl, would Bourassa want to off her too? No! Cal could not even think of that possibility . . . No! Bourassa wouldn't. . . couldn't.. . .
Oh God!
It was too late now! Too late for all of them . . . She would have to run away with him, live with him to save her own life.
God! He needed her so much, so much. If only somehow he could communicate to her how much feeling she aroused inside of him.
Michelle's terrified young body began to shiver uncontrollably as she felt Cal reach forward and run his hands over the top of her jeans, looking for the opening of her pants. She wanted to look up and search his face in the candlelight, but she didn't dare. She was too afraid that she would disrupt this suddenly gentle mood that he was in and incite him to the savage lust with which he had brutally raped her in the van the first night. As it was, she lay as still as possible, listening to his beer-scented breath grow heavier, while he ran his hands over the smoothness of her belly and then out to the flare of her hips, finally cupping his hands under her supple young buttocks. He reached forward and carefully unzipped her jeans, but she didn't protest and even lifted her hips when he began to tug the slacks down her long legs.
She sat up for a moment, and he pulled the torn remains of her Red Sweater up over her head and off her arms. She trembled while he struggled with the clasp of her brassiere and then lay back down uneasily, though it wasn't from fear now but the strange feeling of abandon that overcame her as she felt him pulling the ragged garment from her large firm breasts. Her berry-like nipples stiffened and hardened in contact with the air, and a peculiar fluttery sensation rippled through her abdomen when she noticed him glancing down at them in what seemed to be tender appreciation.
After a moment, Cal placed his hands around the fleshy curve of her small waist and then curled his fingers over the elastic band at the top of what was left of her little white nylon panties, pulling them downward and drawing from her an involuntary "Ooooooh." For a moment, both of their movements quickened in the struggle with her last item of clothing whose removal would leave her as naked and open as he was. She lifted her belly and he pulled and tugged until they peeled reluctantly over the full firm moons of her buttocks.
Now Michelle lay totally naked beside him. She felt no fear whatsoever anymore, and it surprised her, but she supposed it was because of this strange gentleness with which he treated her. He was asking, not demanding, and she even felt that he might stop if she asked him to. But she had no intentions of doing that! He had saved her from another attack by the others who would probably have used her more cruelly than the night before, and he had rescued her from an assault by his jealous ex-girlfriend. Even now, he was still protecting her from both dangers, and she sensed that he had taken her to his room not only because he wanted her for himself, but out of simple human compassion.
And she felt gratitude. She wanted him to know she was grateful.
Cal sensed the change in the girl, too, though it was hard to believe it. She hadn't struggled or kicked when he had removed her clothing, and she didn't cringe now at him sitting next to her. She wasn't even clinging to him out of desperate fear of the others as she had done back in the other room. No, she now lay next to him in a state of expectant repose, and wild thoughts began to race through his head that it was just possible that the voluptuous young brunette was waiting for his next move with some sort of anticipation. He laid his hands on her taut little belly and caressed slowly up to the soft underside of her warmly fleshed breasts. It didn't seem possible but when the backs of his hands reached their soft fullness, an almost inaudible whimper escaped her lips as though she wanted him to cup his hands completely over them. But he didn't want to destroy this advantage with an abrupt movement, and he began gently kneading his hands over her waist and abdomen. Finally, after a long torturous wait, he carefully cupped the lush firmness of her breasts, squeezing the small, bud-like nipples in the furrows between his splayed out fingers. To his surprise she didn't move! He rubbed her breasts in small tiny circles and surprisingly, her chest lifted and strained against his hands as if she were offering them to him in silent invitation.
When, after a moment, he dropped one hand to her thigh, she merely parted her legs without resistance of any kind. The small soft tendrils of pubic hair brushed temptingly against his fingers, but he kept his caresses confined to her legs, avoiding the tempting vaginal mound as he gradually moved his hand underneath her to the wonderfully pliant cheeks of her warm ass. He clenched their smooth, satin-like softness in his hand and drew his fingers down the slightly spread crease between them. Despite himself, his wrist made contact with an unexpected warm dampness growing rapidly between her legs. Now Cal could stand it no more, and drew his fingers irresistibly downward to the soft moist flanges of the young hostage's pussy, that quivered so warmly in his hand. He tried to press one outstretched finger into the tight little opening of her cunt, but she jerked spasmodically away, not from pain or fear, but from the sudden contact that sent another wave of erotically rippling sensation through her belly.
Cal withdrew the finger and looked down at her sensually naked body presenting such an incredible picture of lovely young femaleness to him. Christ! He'd never seen a picture of anything as lush as this, and he still couldn't believe she was here . . . and his!
She was just as firm and full-bodied as he had sensed in the terrible rush of raping her in the van, and just as soft and young and innocent in a fiery way as he had imagined while listening to her squeals and protests and screams-both of protest and rapture-with the men last night.
She was all that he had hoped she would be, except that now she was lying willingly beneath him, her ripe young body quivering with desire . . . for him!
He knelt up over her and ran his uncontrollably trembling hands reverently over her warm young breasts, her flat little belly, her firm upper thighs, and then behind again slowly over the full sweep of her lushly rounded buttocks pressed against the mattress. His heart gladdened as his hands and caresses brought small animal-like mewls of pleasure from her wetly parted lips. His passion increased as her tautly smooth abdomen and its dark pubic mound lifted quickly up to him in invitation when he pressured his hands gently up from behind.
Cal watched as she looked up at him with smoky brown eyes that were half-closed and already dimmed from the forbidden pleasure that sent waves of lewd warmth rippling over every inch of her sensuously quivering young body.
Michelle, in the deep exhausted haze and dimness that follows relief from severe mental anguish, had drifted off into an alien world of soft pleasure of the flesh. At first, back in the distant and rapidly receding past that she could now barely remember, she had let herself be led to this room so that she could escape the other convicts, then out of gratitude she had lain unresisting while Cal had undressed and fondled her body. But now her passive acceptance had been replaced by a driving desire that she not only did not comprehend, but couldn't control. The aroused young girl didn't know who the gently caressing hands belonged to or how they had managed to work this miracle upon her. With a sigh of rapture, she gave up the impossible effort to even think beyond the wickedly flickering inferno of pleasure that devastated her entire body, the flames rippling outward from the throbbing center of her vagina that ached to be filled.
"Oh God! Oh God!" she heard a female voice crooning, unaware that it was herself who was speaking.
Cal bent down, pressing his wet lips tightly to hers, and immediately felt the soft shaft of her quivering little tongue spear into the hot cavern of his mouth, circling around his own hard rigid tongue in a flicking embrace like a poor moth attracted by an open flame which it could not resist.
Feeling sure of himself for the first time, Cal placed his hands on the soft firm insides of her full upper thighs, and this time she didn't move away or even jerk in the slightest degree. Instead her legs parted slowly and willingly outward as he pressured against them with his hands, pushing them outward as though he were opening the pages of a sacred book.
Sudden bewilderment raced through his brain at her passionate response to him. For a moment he suspected a trap-suspected that she was pretending. It didn't seem possible that this was the same virgin he had raped so brutally only last night who was now lying quivering and moaning beneath him, waiting in what seemed to be helpless desire for the moment when he would take her a second time.
The convict couldn't wait any longer, and he let his naked body sink down onto hers where lie rested a moment, feeling the softly sensual hollows and mounds of her voluptuous body pressed tightly against him. Then he drew her legs up from her pinioned, splayed-out body until her knees bent out at each of his sides. He lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck, and she groaned in acquiescence and eagerness. Her passion spurred his own desire. Her helplessly lewd response to each of his moves goaded his passion until his head reeled with the power he had over her. He wanted to thrust his tongue down her throat, to totally pulverize every inch of her sensual young body until she quivered in a thousand helpless pieces. Me breathed heavily and had reached down to implant himself into the soft wet crevice of her pussy pressed so warmly up against his loins . . . but at the last moment he stopped!
He wanted her to surrender totally to him tonight in every way, drawing her to him with her own hands so that he would never be uncertain in the future days to come-if there were to be future days-that she had wanted him. She was in a pliant, dreamy condition now and, anyway, he might never again have the opportunity to fuck her like this.
"Put it in," he lifted his mouth from hers and spoke in a low whisper. Then he added, even though it was obviously unnecessary, . . . please!"
He stopped breathing for a long, torturous moment as he waited to see what she would do. Then his choked off breath heaved out in a deep sigh of relief when he felt her little hand push immediately down between their warmly sweating bodies and curl around the long rigidity of his heatedly throbbing shaft. He lifted his loins slightly to give her access to him when she hesitated a moment as though trying to figure out what to do with the hardened flesh that jerked and throbbed so vitally between her tightly clasping fingers.
The gang leader groaned when she pushed the thick foreskin back, exposing the blunt pulsing head that brushed lightly against the smooth skin of her taut young belly. He lifted his hips higher, letting her hand direct him, and swung slightly backwards. The young girl's fingers ran tentatively down the full length of his shaft, then with a sudden assurance, she moved it against the soft fleece-cove red curvature of her pubic mound. For a second time he held his breath, feeling her sparse tendrils tantalizingly curl around the head of his hard column that was pressing against her warmly pink slit. He waited in agony, desperate with desire, as she fumbled with the strange stiffness of his cock, tentatively sliding it up and down the lull wetness between the swollen lips of her moistly aroused pussy. Finally she found her mark, and the hotly throbbing penis in her hand rested at the warm vaginal opening which was now willingly being offered to him unlike last night when he had taken what he wanted without gentleness or mercy.
But he held back tonight!
He waited with greater desire to slither into her at the exact moment when she needed it as much as he did. It would mean everything to hear her pleading, to feel every sinew of her supple young body begging for him to finally plunge his long hard cock into her, pleading with him not to wait a single moment longer. He held back in full confidence that that unbelievable moment would actually come, and she would implore him in a final admission of surrender that neither of them would ever forget.
But she had to know it! She had to be fully conscious when she did it! He wanted the voluptuously naked girl to keep it in mind forever, to remember how she had wanted him more than pride itself. That way, no matter how many cocks plunged into her in the years to come, his would always be there. He was sure she would try to forget the pain and humiliation that Luc and Henri and Louie had forced on her helpless young body, and he knew that one day she would succeed in forgetting; but she would never be able to forget the first man who had given her the pleasure of making love-man and woman. And he would be that one. Tomorrow might be his last in this world, and even if it wasn't, he didn't know for sure that he could convince her to run off with him. Of course, her life would no doubt depend on it! But whatever happened, neither of them would ever forget the beauty of this night.
Michelle, with only the slightest pressure of his hardness against her wetly quivering little cunt, lay trembling in tiny uncontrollable spasms that bound her entire helpless body to him with as much painful intensity as if he had fastened her to a torture rack. She felt mesmerized by his warmly pulsating penis and the aching hunger it caused in her womb, a surprisingly ravenous need that couldn't be satiated no matter how much she lifted her still empty loins up to the dimly-seen figure that hovered between her widely-spread legs over her body. Every movement against his maddening hardness merely increased her craving and torment. The lewd sensation extended itself into the deepest recesses of her hazy mind where it transformed itself into thousands of sexsually flickering images. They mixed with the obscene grunts and sucking noises coming from the next room to form lascivious pictures of Heather being crushed between the aroused bodies of all three sadistic men, adding to the throbbing sensation in her dilated vagina a thousandfold.
Cal looked down at the voluptuously naked young girl who lay underneath him with her breath coming in rasping pants of sexual need. He shifted slightly and she glanced up, then quickly her eyelids fluttered shut as though pleading with him to get on with his next move. Small beads of perspiration had formed on her lips that ovaled in unintelligible whispering mutters, but he was sure now that she was beginning to begin her heated need of him. He lifted his body closer over hers in a push-up position, and his massively thick cock pressed into the warm slippery fold of her pussy that lay wet and open to him without meeting the slightest resistance.
"Ooooooooh," she gasped in pleasure and surprise at the closer contact.
The gang leader resisted with all his determination and control the desire to end this insufferable waiting stance and plunge into her; but he had waited too long and worked too hard to destroy all his efforts now. Besides, he could see her changing right before his eyes, and the sight of her transformation kept him going.
His eyes gleaming with desire, fastened on the large ripely pliant mounds of her breasts that swayed slightly out towards the sides of her body. The sight of the little pebble-like nipples at the ends of them, stiffening and quivering in arousal, made his mouth water with the urge to bite into them. Yes, there was too much of her he hadn't tasted to simply take her now. Everything she had was open and available to him, and it never would be again.
With a rush, he fell onto her chest and sucked one of the small, succulent pink nipples up into his mouth. He ran his hungry lips and tongue moistly around and around the wide coral aureole, then sucked the hard budding tip into stiff quivering hardness. The naked brunette hostage gasped as his hand massaged her other breast in tiny teasing circles, tweaking the soft nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her legs involuntarily scissored open beneath him, thrusting the thinly bearded slit of her vagina hard up against his loins. Cal let his tongue trace a wet path of searing desire down to the flat plane of her rippling belly, as the shamelessly aroused girl began to writhe beneath his flicking caresses like a woman possessed. Her firmly rounded buttocks twisted down against the soiled mattress as though she were trying to bury herself in it. Her arms stiffened, and her hands shot out to tangle tightly in his hair, pulling his lips greedily to her erotically tingling breasts.
Cal lifted himself back up and gazed at the sheer wanton desire which was shaking her naked young body. His eyes fastened again on the excitedly quivering mounds of her large firm breasts, and he had to have more of them in some way. Suddenly, he slithered forward up her chest and settled his buttocks just above her navel, his legs straddling her delicate rib cage at either side. He tilted his hips and gasped as his cock fell easily into the damply narrow crevice between her perspiring closely-spaced breasts.
Michelle's eyes opened and she gazed up at the escaped convict with wide startled blue eyes. But once again they grew hazy and lust-smoked and, with a deep sigh, fluttered closed again.
He straddled her stomach heavily. The bloated, sperm-swollen sac of his balls squashed hard against the whiteness of her belly, causing his heatedly thick cock to jerk in anticipation. He inched upward along her sensually writhing torso, worming his hardened stiffness deeper into the valley between her full fleshy breasts. Without warning, he reached down and cupped a hand on either side of the warmly quivering soft mounds and pushed them together, trapping his long throbbing cock softly between them. Michelle wiggled under him, and he rode with her body, causing the red bulbous head to slide all the way up to her bent chin. A tiny bit of lubricant popped out from the gaping head and, when he drew back, traced a thin wet line down the curve of her neck. For a moment he sat still, taking in the unbelievable sight of the voluptuous young girl he had been forced to rape now willingly letting him use her as he wanted. With shaking hands, he began kneading the full resilient mounds and watched the soft doughy flesh poke up between his grasping fingers in tiny white bloodless ridges that softened back into a firmly voluptuous shape the moment he released them. He tugged and pulled at her pliant warmth, stretching the nipples over his hotly throbbing long cock until the bead-like tips touched and her warm flesh enclosed his member in their vibrant softness on both sides.
Satisfied, Cal set up a slow rocking motion, sliding his thick, blue-veined shaft between her softly straining young breasts. He moved slowly and carefully for fear that his long-stored cum would suddenly erupt and begin spurting in sticky hot streams over her naked breasts; he didn't want that, wasn't ready for that yet. The steady slap of his heavy balls against the smooth warmth of her stomach forced his breath into quick labored gasps of a rising lewdness that he knew he couldn't control much longer. The nipples of her breasts quivered and jerked into greater hardness as he rubbed them against each other, and this excited him even more. His wild passion grew to a nearly unmanageable intensity when he glanced up at her face and saw the wantonly exciting reaction it was having upon her.
She really was beautiful, he thought, as he gazed in intoxicating rapture at her nakedly writhing young figure spread out so deliciously on the bed beneath him. He had worked her up to a fever pitch of desire, and now her mouth hung open wide in pleading ecstasy-her glassy, lust-smoked eyes staring up into nothingness. Soft animal mewls of pleasure gasped and bubbled from between her contorted lips. Her voluptuously flaring hips continued a slow up and down grinding movement in rhythm to the stroking between her tightly pressed together breasts and then they began writhing in a mindless fit of abandonment that told him clearly that the girl now would accept any degradation he would force upon her in order to still the fire raging in her vagina.
And there was one more thing he wanted to do before he made her cum, before he fused them together in one great wet mass of pulsating flesh.
He slithered back down her ripe young body and carefully rolled her over, his eyes traveling a slow path of desire up the gleaming moon-like orbs of her buttocks. They undulated slowly beneath him as she continued the wanton little movement that now ground her hungry, wetly quivering cunt into the mattress.
Michelle started to attention as she felt herself grasped tightly by the waist and her hips lifted up from the mattress, but then her barely conscious mind drifted back into the dim dark world that revolved around the single thought of her unfulfilled desire.
Cal looked down at her rippling ass cheeks and the anal crevice that had opened up when he lifted her, exposing the tiny brown star of her rectum. He meant to fuck her there too, and he shuddered at the mere thought of what it would feel like when her warm spongy channel closed so tightly around his totally buried cock.
He placed his hands gently under her belly and lifted her slowly to a kneeling position so that she was on all fours under him dog-fashion. Then he crawled up on his own knees between her full-spread thighs and pulled at the firmly rounded cheeks of her ass with his hands, able to see clearly now the tightly puckered little anus, nestled in the shadowy cleft. He thought he could see it throbbing almost as if it anticipated his next move.
Cal rested in that position for a long moment to give her time to adjust to everything that had happened so far. He knew that any abrupt movement could throw her dimmed mind out of the trance it seemed to be in, then she would begin to struggle with all the energy she had displayed in the van the first night. He wanted that energy working for him, not against him. He wanted her to desire everything he did to her.
Michelle's long tapered legs were splayed out wide on either side of him when he brought his hands down and pushed them under the back of her knees. He pulled them apart so that the kneecaps touched the sides of the mattress and exposed the whole flat place of her anal crevice to his lustful sight. Then he dropped his head and gently flicked the quivering red tip of his wet tongue into the tight little hole of her anus nestled just above the opening of her pussy. The unexpected, moistly searing contact with the sensitive rubbery opening brought a long low moan of anguish from the kneeling girl's tortured lips. Her blonde head tossed and chills ran up the full length of her naked back and then back down again onto her buttocks from where the lewdly exciting sensation racing so out of control through her body had originated. He tightened his grip on the back of her knees, expecting her to jump away . . . but she didn't . . . and even he was surprised at what happened.
Instead Michell's legs fell limply open and her voluptuous young ass pressed backward of its own volition, without any effort or force on his part. The movement caught him by surprise as he had just decided that she must be too dazed to move at all, and disbelief buzzed through his brain when the white,moon-like ovals ground wantonly and excitedly back against the eager wetness of his mouth. He recalled the wild ideas that had raced through his head last night as he had lain in bed listening to the men shamelessly abuse her body between the three of them downstairs. He had imagined trailing his tongue down her back crevice; but never in his most insane fantasies had he dreamed that she would like it. . . and she was enjoying it . . . not only enjoying it, but pleading for more of the same.
He started using his tongue, slowly at first, and licked down the entire length of her crevice. His intentions were to be gentle, but she ground her softly fleshed buttocks even closer against him in a desperate effort to screw back on the hotly flicking tongue that licked without mercy around her anus. He blew his warm breath softly against her behind and then, suddenly, stabbed his tongue straight into the tight fleshy ring.
"Oooooohhh," she whimpered as goose bumps rippled across her upraised young buttocks and down the backs of her excitedly trembling thighs.
He lifted his head, his mind churning with amazement at her lewdly heated reactions. Then he moved carefully, still expecting her to suddenly protest and burst the dream like a delicate bubble, and placed the tip of his outstretched middle finger against the entrance of her tightly puckered rectum. She didn't flinch, and Cal decided that she was unaware of the penetration that was coming. He probed for a moment on the outer edges of the elastic little orifice and then pushed forward gently, sinking the finger slowly up to the first knuckle. This time she did jerk and moan softly, but it seemed to be more from surprise than pain because she relaxed again almost immediately.
He pushed the finger all the way in, then planted the palm of his hand on the small of her back and pushed down tight, trapping her between his hand and the mattress. Ellen groaned and made a slight cringing movement when a second finger was inserted, then relaxed again as the fingers dug firmly in the tight narrow passage, widening it and preparing it for the greater entry to come.
Then Cal couldn't stand it any more. As quickly as he had shoved the fingers in he pulled them back out of her. Besides, he knew he had to hurry now if he was going to get his long hard cock into her before she slipped out of this dreamy pliant condition.
"Kneel up higher," he commanded softly and then, when she did, quickly bent his head and moistened the tiny hole again with his tongue in preparation for the coming assault.
He levered himself up, his thighs pressed tightly against her hips, positioning his rock-hard maleness directly over the wet little opening of her ass, then he pushed. He groaned as he looked down and saw the unrelenting staff pop suddenly through the tight restricting ring of her flesh. He watched with open mouth, tongue hanging loosely from his lips, as the tiny stretched opening slipped over and clasped the lust-swollen tip of his cock like a rubber band. All his plans of gentleness were forgotten now in the driving anguish of his own desire as he grinned above her like a conquering devil and thrust Ins hips hard down until his thick, heatedly pulsating penis sank halfway to the hilt. The warm sponginess of the young girl's tight anal channel enveloped his wildly pulsing shaft, and the feel of her tightly clasping rectum sent a long shudder of delight throughout his body.
"Oh! Noooooooo!" he heard a sudden groan escape from her at the unexpected pain.
"Shut up," he whispered in a hoarse low voice. "It'll only hurt for a minute." Then he added gently, "I promise it'll feel better in a minute . . . just relax."
She whimpered and then groaned again, but he was no longer listening to anything, and didn't hear. All his attention focused on his blunt intruding cock that pushed ever deeper into the depths of her nether being, shoving the soft rubbery flesh inside the widely-stretched passage before it in great waves. He felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily into the softness of her defenselessly upturned buttocks when he sank the fleshy thickness to the hilt, filling her backside. She cried out in pain now, and twisted, but the darkly handsome man was unconscious of anything except the bucking of her nakedly voluptuous young body that only served to skewer his long hard cock inch by inch deeper, ever deeper into her.
Cal ground his teeth tightly together and began fucking into her with long smooth strokes, stretching her little anal opening with almost demonic fury. He watched his hardened white shaft pull tiny ridges of her pinkly clasping rectum on each out stroke, and the lewd sight excited him beyond measure. The young brunette hostage was hopelessly locked in the kneeling position, painfully bent like an errant slave before its cruel master. Her lushly naked body jerked and quivered, and she grunted finally in a long moan of submission. Her thighs released, her resistance broken now, she convulsed again in groaning protest as his next extra hard thrust pushed far up into her rectum. On and on the merciless sodomizing went as the gang leader skewered into her from behind like a wild man, too excited by his own delirious pleasure to think of anything but her soft rubbery flesh pulling and sucking on his throbbing cudgel.
And there the impossible happened. Through the daze of his own excitement, he slowly heard the low whining moans of pain change, almost imperceptibly at first, and then to a tone that left no room for doubt. It was a low whimper of passionate pleading. She was beginning to enjoy it! Michelle worked and ground back into him, her long chestnut hair falling over her face and around his neck and back while she squirmed lewdly in front of him. Her face rolled from side to side on the mattress. He could see it flushing red from the intensity of her effort, her eyes wide in unseeing entrapment in the quest for some kind of fulfillment.
A strange kind of sadistic joy began to throb through his thighs as her warmly fleshed hips began to move backwards to meet the up-thrust of his plunging cock ramming into her rectum. She wantonly bucked and churned her naked young body beneath him, encouraging and pleading with the lewdly inviting motions of her buttocks for him to end it and fill her behind with the hot sperm of his orgasm which she prayed would trigger her own release.
Perhaps it was the lewdness of her position under him or the sadistic thought of fucking her helplessly kneeling form half to death. Whatever if was, the pressure was building in his sperm-churning balls and his excitedly jerking cock seemed to lengthen and expand until it was larger than it had ever been before.
And then suddenly Cal stopped.
He fell forward and pressed the whole of his powerful body onto her back, the thick full length of his cock still wedged deep up in her rectum. Then he gritted his teeth and pulled back, sliding his hardness wetly out of the tightly throbbing channel until the tip slipped out of the puckered hole with an obscene wet sucking sound. He hated to pull it out, he was so close to cumming in her rectum that he didn't want to stop, but he wanted more to wring from her the kind of orgasm that would make her his forever.
He rolled her over, the anguish of his near climax still jerking in his throbbing cock, until she lay under him on her back with all the soft hollows and indentations of her succulent young body presented up to him all his and his alone. In one painful gasp, he realized that he had never felt this way about a woman before when she looked up at him with smoky desire-ridden eyes. His body shook and he almost spilled his load in mid-air when she spoke:
"Fuck me, Cal," she pled in a desperate whisper of unfulfilled torment.
The surprised captor wasted no time as he lifted his body higher over the uplifted pussy between her widely spread thighs. His fully erect instrument lowered quickly and came to rest in direct contact with the tightly resisting entry to her barely used vagina. Still, there was no need for care now, her pussy lay wet and spread open in invitation, the small elastic vagina mouth already throbbing around the blunt blood-engorged head of his cock as though she, too, were about to explode if he didn't thrust it into her immediately. And so he did, feeling her sparse, wetly matted blonde pubic hair part as his mammoth cockhead slowly slid into her warmth and kept sliding with one long smooth stroke all the way to her cervix. There was no resistance now, and the smooth slippery walls of her tight little cunt throbbed against his thick hardness in a wetly clasping motion that almost drove him insane with joy.
He ground his chest against her, smashing the full ripe firmness of her fleshy melons into her chest. He rammed his hips forward at the same time and the soft moist hole flowered open to receive his cock to even greater depths. There was no stopping it until he sank to the hilt, and the heavy sac of his balls slapped with a loud thud against the spread crevice of her upraised buttocks.
Her whole body twitched and writhed beneath him, and she lifted her face up against the moistness of his mouth until he viciously shoved his tongue deep into her throat. Low hums of passionate acceptance came in incoherent groans and murmurs from deep in her chest. Her innocent young face contorted with lewd passion, her neck strained and her nostrils flared, and a light sweat broke out on her forehead under the disheveled auburn hair. There was nothing that could stop them now, and the darkly handsome man worked like a madman to end it for the both of them.
"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, Jesus! Jesus, Jesuuuuus!yy Michelle gasped around the slavering tongue in her mouth and groaned in lewd welcome when his hands slipped under the rounded moons of her buttocks and lifted them upwards to give his wildly thrusting hardness complete access to her pleading young cunt.
Cal lifted his face from her, raising his upper torso, and felt the smooth velvet folds of her vagina tightly hold him captive for a moment. When he drew back, they wetly clasped his rigid column until he could feel every inch of her fevered pussy vibrating on his cock. Then he rammed into her from the tips of his toes and fucked the last long hard inch of his pole of flesh into her hot little cunt, bringing an animal-like scream of passion from her lips. His hair-covered groin ground lewdly against the sensitive outer flanges of her wet spread pussy and sent shivers of obscene delight surging through her fluttering nerve-ends. He ground his loins against her pelvis, watching her glazed, heavily lidded eyes widen suddenly in rapture.
The sight of the lewd emotions playing over the innocent young girl's contorted face added to the man's already intolerable excitement. It had been worth the agonizing torture of holding back and waiting uncertainly in the hope that he wouldn't be alone in his quest for pleasure. Now, every fiber of his being quivered with the feeling of being totally alive, no matter what would happen to him tomorrow, and the assurance that his life force was bound with hers, if only for the moment. The only pain was the knowledge that she not anyone else, would ever be as much his as she was at this precise moment. But the anguish of that realization evaporated quickly as he watched tears of joy and frenzy stream down her cheeks in tribute to a passion she had never known existed.
Michelle sought desperately to get him as close to her as possible and once again her arms flung over his head in a neck-breaking hold. But another long hard lunge into her ecstatic wildly quivering pussy sent them fluttering out to his shoulders from where they slithered down his back, her nails digging frantically in his naked skin, until they came to rest on the rotating cheeks of his hard-driving buttocks.
She ground her fingers into the muscular warmth of his buttocks, her hands working with the convoluting sinews, and pulled him even deeper into her. The powerful tugs of encouragement from her grasping hands added to the force of his thrusts against her uplifted groin, and the room resounded with wet smacking noises that mixed lewdly with the sounds of excited barking coming from the other room where Louie was drunkenly trying to get the German Shepherd, Mackenzie, to fuck Heather.
The obscenely suggestive noises coming from downstairs began to blend in tempo with Cal's own hard, pile-driving thrusts and drove him to greater desire. Unconsciously, he began to grow even more excited as he visualized Mackenzie plunging his long scarlet penis into Heather's battered cunt. But then, Michelle's eagerly milking pussy snatched him back to the present. He wrapped one hand around her breast and placed the other over a smoothly rounded cheek of her ass, feeling his fingers sink into the slightly spread sweating anal crevice. Then he slid his hand slowly down from her buttocks to where his long thick cock was sliding wetly in and out of her tight young pussy.
Her mouth opened wide in ecstasy when he fondled and played with the moistly contracting lips of her pussy where he entered her, bringing softer moans of wild sensation from her throat. He could feel the ever-widening passage of her vagina opening in greedy desire to swallow the whole of his heated shaft plunging far up inside her. She jerked up toward him several times, her cuntal lips wildly working and sucking at his cock as though trying to milk him dry.
"Oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me harder" the brunette hostage begged, her breath coming in short frantic gasps. She was ready to cum; Cal could feel it as her ripe young breasts heaved up and quivered against the pressure of his chest and their hardened little nipples dug into him. Her trembling thighs parted further and opened the plane of her femininity wide then, with a low moan, her legs snaked out and tightly wrapped themselves around his pile-driving buttocks. Her crotch uplifted pleadingly to him, and Cal quickened his thrusts, gulping at the sight of her eager little cunt beginning to climb up his cock, then spiraling up and down crazily in an uncontrolled race for fulfillment.
"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, je viens, je viens, I'm cummiingg!" she groaned in a low hoarse moan of helpless submission and suddenly her heels were dancing a wild tarantella of lust on his buttocks. Her hands raced crazily up his back until they tangled in his hair and smashed his mouth down on her wetly open whimpering mouth with such fury that her teeth cut into his lips. The cords of her neck tightened and her nakedly quivering body jerked against him in tempo with the inner rhythm of the hot convulsing walls of her vagina that clasped and unclasped wetly around his cock, milking at his jerking organ like a sucking starving mouth.
The aging floorboards thudded loudly in time to the two tightly entwined bodies struggling wildly against each other. The sounds of deep straining grunts and groans filled the hot stifling air of the room, mingling with the noise of the wet, viscous slither of his massively erect penis ramming in and out of her wildly erupting pussy.
"Oh, oh, oh," he cried and moaned into her mouth as her cum juice flowed heatedly around his still driving hard shaft, flowing down the crevice of her flailing young buttocks and flooding over his balls as they ground against her tightly puckered anus.
Cal felt himself cumming and quickened his strokes until his groin smacked like a wooden paddle against her cum-drenched pelvis. He held her legs tight to him and thrust his wildly jerking cock as deep as it would go, grinding his pelvis around and around to dig the head in deeper and deeper, scraping the wetly rejoicing balls of her cunt without mercy. She gasped in renewed passion, and he clenched his eyes tightly shut, feeling his testicles begin to wildly erupt.
He was cumming now too!
A deep, half-human cry erupted from his throat into the moistness of her mouth. He could feel a gush of fire race through his suddenly ballooning cock, heard her whimpering out the last of her orgasm, and then felt her jerk forward against him as, sensing his climax, she began orgasming all over again.
It was then that Cal exploded inside her, his hot sperm spurting like a firehouse through the end of his long driving penis and squirting into the farthest recesses of the brunette hostage's palpitating young pussy.
He fell over her and she groaned and dropped her head against his heaving neck, her body limp like a doll, and they lay interlocked in the lewd embrace of love for a seeming eternity, she lying with her arms and legs spread wide apart and his body between them in the age old position of the conquering man. He felt her heavy breathing that lifted her quivering chest against him and her legs falling gradually to the sides until they were splayed out obscenely.
Then Cal looked down at her naked young body, sheened with sweat and glimmering in the light from the streetlamp outside the window.
I love her, thought Cal. I love her, but our love seems doomed, utterly, totally doomed.
CHAPTER FIVE
The first thing Michelle realized when she awoke was that she was bound by her wrists to the headboard.
Then she turned her head to one side and saw, with a strange sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that Cal was gone!
It was not yet dawn, though the sky outside the little bedroom window was beginning to grow lighter. It gave the entire room a strange, eerie glow.
Suddenly, Michelle saw Heather's tall, cat-like figure entering the room, an arrogant smirk on her face, her once-smart outfit now in tatters. The haughty blonde stood a few paces from
Michelle, staring and saying nothing for a long time. It was obvious she was very, very drunk.
"Well, you little slut, where's your boyfriend now?" she sneered, and laughed evilly, sweeping her hand towards the door in a gesture of finality. "He's on his way to commit murder, and no there's no one to protect you . . . no one but me and Henri."
The young brunette stiffened in terror and tried to sit up in bed, forgetting for a moment her horrifying awareness that she had been bound by ropes and was unable to move. And as she began to struggle futilely to free herself from her bonds, she could hear Heather laugh again, and the ugly sound of her voice seemed to echo back to Michelle the hellishness of her position.
Heather approached with her eyes glinting ferociously like a jungle cat. The tall blonde took careful, slow steps that prolonged the anguished tension of waiting, and Michelle once again attempted to sit up, feeling her bonds painfully tighten around her wrists. How had they done this? How had they tied her up without waking her. And, as Michelle wondered this, she suddenly became aware of a soreness in the crook of her right arm, and it all became clear. They had drugged her! They had given her some sort of shot and then tied her up. And Cal? Oh God! He had just left her with these . . . these animals! He hadn't cared . . . hadn't really cared. Oh God! How could she have been so ridiculous as to let herself feel for him the love she did last night. It was crazy, sick, she had no ability to make judgments anymore.
But Michelle had no time to think. Suddenly, in one lightning movement, Heather's hand shot down and grabbed Michelle's thick auburn hair, wrenching the young girl's head upward until she was staring into the other woman's hate filled face. In this moment Michelle caught the full brunt of Heather's contemptuous wrath, and the pain tingling through her scalp was nothing compared to the force of sadistic glee sparkling in Heather's eyes.
"You know what I'm going to do to you, don't you?" Heather asked, not releasing her tight grip on Michelle's hair. "I'm going to help you understand what real pain is. . . . "
Her voice was ominous. "Oh, please! God! Leave me alone!" Michelle pleaded, the tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
Heather merely laughed in reply, and then viciously began to slap the captive girl several times. The blows seemed to take the immediate pressure off her hate, and she let Michelle's head fall back down.
The young brunette made another effort to communicate with the infuriated woman. "I-it wasn't my fault . . . what happened. I didn't ask to be kidnapped by those men," Michelle sobbed piteously.
"You know, Mackenzie is still here," Heather said cunningly and without preamble. "He's supposed to help me and Henri guard you. . . . "
Suddenly a feeling of horror implanted itself and flooded through Michelle's entire being. Now she remembered the animal-like noises from last night and the ribald laughter of the three men as they shouted gleefully. "Go on, Mackenzie. Fuck her too; she's a bitch!"
Oh God!
Mention of the dog and the irrational sounds of the animal that she had heard the night before merged into a terrifying realization. No . . . this was too much . . . she couldn 't even bear to think it!
Heather watched the girl's face change as the impact of her threat began to sink in. Then she chortled sadistically. "Hey, Henri. Get your ass in here, and bring that fucking dog with you." She laughed uproariously at her pun.
When Michelle began frantically struggling against her bonds, Heather grabbed her hair and rammed her head back against the wooden headboard. Low, disgruntled groans could be heard from downstairs, and a moment later the huge, brutal form of Henri appeared at the door accompanied by the huge German Shepherd.
"Hey, Henri, look at this," Heather grinned back at the huge man standing in the entranceway. "We're going to have some real fun now."
The sadistically grinning gang girl leaned down and pinched and tore at the flesh on Michelle's arm until the young girl could stand the pain no longer. She jumped and screamed against her bonds, trying to escape the excruciating pain, but her struggles were useless and resulted only in the ropes cutting into her wrists and drawing blood.
"I-I don't think we oughta mess with this stuff," Henri said nervously, licking his lips . . . "If Cal finds out it'll be all over for the both of us."
The statuesque blonde looked up at Henri contemptuously. It was obvious which one of the two had the strength to take command of this new situation, and the upper-class woman from Westmount exercised that command now with the vicious poking and prodding of her fingers and hands.
"Hey, Henri, wouldn't you like to see what kind of a cunt this sweet innocent little Frenchie's got?" Heather asked, leaning forward and reaching with both hands for Michelle's large, ripely swelling breasts. Both women could see Henri's eyes bulge at the voluptuous sight of the naked white torso bound helplessly on the bed, and even as they watched, his features began to change from nervousness to sadistic anticipation.
"Look at that, Henri," Heather said and leered back at the dumbfounded man behind her. "How would you like to try some of that?"
Henri stood with his jaw agape, a thin line of spittle forming on his trembling lower lip. The dog standing by his side sounded a low whimper that redirected the terrified captive's attention to the big animal.
"What d'ya say, Henri? You get the bitch warmed up, and then we let Mackenzie here have a go at her," Heather said, then turned to the struggling brunette again. "Old Mackenzie's the king of good fucks, darling." Her eyes were devoid of emotion-lifeless-as she said it.
"Stop it, stop this talk. I can't stand it!" Michelle screamed in one last attempt to dissuade Heather from her viciously lewd intent. "I'll do anything, but get that dog away from me!"
"You hear that, Henri?" Heather said in a low salacious tone. "She'll do what you want as long as Mackenzie doesn't mess with her."
Suddenly the blonde was upon Michelle again.
She seized her legs and pulled them wide apart, and Michelle tried to pull her legs tight, but the strong pressure of her assailant's grip on her thigh was too much.
"When I want you to open your legs, I mean it!" Heather hissed at her through clenched teeth.
Sobbing convulsively, the brunette hostage's legs went limp, and she let her thighs fall slightly apart from their own weight. She could feel the sadistic blonde reaching down and grasping her ankles, and pulling her legs open wide!"
"See, Henri, see how nice and tight her pussy looks."
Then Heather let go of her ankles, and slapped Michelle hard again across the face. "You'll do what I say, won't you dear," she said.
Michelle was terrified. Yes, yes, she had to, she had to obey.
"Now open those legs a little more," the blonde commanded.
Reluctantly, with tears of shame and fear coursing down her reddened cheeks, Michelle spread her legs a few inches more.
"Open 'em wider, you slut. Poor Henri can't see it . . . can you Henri, darling?" she teased at him as his wildly gleaming eyes grew wider and small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.
Heather moved forward again. She grabbed the sides of Michelle's legs and pulled them wider still. The captive young brunette sobbed helplessly in pain and humiliation, feeling the raw pink flesh of her vagina stretched open from the outward pressure against her legs. She was totally exposed to Henri's gaze as his savagely burning eyes locked in lustful desire on the tiny opening nestling in the sparse field of soft dark cuntal hair up between her legs.
"Now, you can do anything you like to her, Henri . . . But you have to save the best part for old Mackenzie here. What do you think, Henri darling. What do you want to do. . . . ? "
"But.. . but what about Cal? He's got a soft spot for her. He's gonna be really mad if we do anything to her?" He was frightened of Cal, but still his voice was thick with an animal-like lust.
"Perhaps Cal won't return," she said slyly. "Perhaps there will be a problem at the airport. . . Perhaps Bourassa thinks Cal has gotten too big for his britches." And she grinned conspiratorially at the sweating brute.
Michelle felt her heart sink. For despite the fact that Cal had been her abductor and initially had raped her and robbed her of her virginity, what had happened between them last night was more beautiful than anything she had ever experienced in her life. She knew there was a part of Cal that was bad, yet she couldn't help feeling that she loved him. Yes . . . she loved him, loved Cal, Oh God!
And Henri, who had always resented Cal's authority was actually rubbing his hands in glee. Oh God!
Cowering in terror on the bed, Michelle had never felt so naked and frightened in her life. Her mind whirled at the thought of harm coming to Cal, and at the thought of being attacked by the lewdly grinning Henri, not to mention the incomprehensible fear that shot through her when she thought of the dog standing panting beside him. God, Mackenzie was huge. She just couldn't stand the idea of touching the beast, much less passively submitting to the vile obscenity they had in mind for him to do. The hate-filled Heather was enjoying her sadistic revenge too much to listen to any kind of plea for mercy, in fact, she probably would enjoy it a hundred times more if Michelle were to beg. There was no hope now for anything; and the young hostage didn't try to stop the tears of humiliation and fright that were streaming down her cheeks.
Michelle closed her eyes to blot out Heather's smirking face, then reopened them again and jumped suddenly as she felt a pressure between her legs. The tall blonde woman had knelt down beside her and had brushed her hand against the softly tender flesh surrounding her vagina. "No, no, stop, please stop," the captive groaned in abject fear.
Henri bent eagerly down behind Heather and the tall, muscular brute of a man inched forward, leering toward Heather's hand that worked at the bound girl's wide-splayed vaginal lips. Then, like some anxious animal closing in for the kill, he pushed past Heather, thrusting his face a few inches away from her finger working around the edges of the tortured little cunt. For a moment, Michelle forgot about the slow humiliating violation of her nakedly exposed cuntal area and focused all her attention on Henri's crazed expression that contorted in obvious anticipation of what he would do to her next.
"Yeah, I'll warm her up all right," he growled, not taking his eyes from between her legs, where the grinning Heather had expertly insinuated her fingers and was methodically massaging them around and around to widen the already wet passage. Then Henri's beast-like form was crawling up on the bed next to her.
She felt the sadistic outlaw's huge, muscular body push up against her and heard him fumbling with his clothing, not bothering to remove his pants but just unzipping his fly. He moved closer and she pulled away from him, jerking abruptly as she felt hands on her buttocks. It was Heather who was reaching over the bed, thrusting Michelle closer to Henri's lust-incited form. The two pairs of hands that were suddenly pinching and clawing over her nakedly writhing young body were indistinguishable from one another, and it seemed as though every sensitive area of her fearfully cringing flesh was being explored and prodded to increase her pain and humiliation. Then she sensed an all too familiar touch, something she had learned to recognize from the several violations of her body during the past two days. The hot spongy hardness of Henri's eagerly throbbing cock sprang out from the opening of his pants and with a soft thud smacked against the narrow hair-lined opening of her cunt. The helplessly struggling girl stretched her buttocks backwards, but the evil Henri followed her, moving his hands across her hips until they clenched the quivering cheeks of her ass.
Michelle lurched back again and wriggled her buttocks in one last vain attempt to escape the constant painful kneading of his fingers and hands. But it was useless. Henri's long hard cock began making its slow entry through the tight outer lips of the girl's moistly dilating cunt, his progress only slightly impeded by the spasmodic wrenching of her groin away from him. Suddenly, Michelle felt a new pressure coming from behind. At first there was a tingling, then a more painful sensation as Henri's hands tightened in back of her, pulling her clenched buttocks wide apart. She looked up and saw Heather's sadistically smiling face only inches away from her thighs. The blonde woman had thrust her finger against the tight rubbery ring of Michelle's anus and, with the aid of the man in front of her, began a malicious prodding at the brunette's tender rear entrance.
"Oh, noooooooo, aarrgghhh," she moaned in pained humiliation. "Please don't. God! Don't do that to me."
But the young hostage's helpless protestations were useless. Her nakedly trembling body gave a fretful heave sideways to escape the dual prodding in front and behind, though her movements were severely limited by her bound arms: The more she tried to move away, the more she felt the ropes burning and pulling at her wrists. Then she felt an even worse pain, an excruciating rip through her thighs as Heather's sharp claws dug into the soft white flesh above Michelle's buttocks. The society blonde clenched her fingers until the screeching, agonizing captive could stand it no longer. The outstretched finger that worked at her nether passage now had full access to her and Michelle felt she would do anything now to avoid the terrible searing pain that she had learned to associate with each of her struggling movements. Nothing was important anymore as long as she escaped the burning torture of Heather's viciously grasping hands that she could still feel digging into the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and prodding at the tightly puckered anal ring.
She could feel the hot rubbery hardness of Henri's cock thrust partially into her moist, slowly widening cuntal passage, even as Heather's extended finger screwed into her quivering ass.
"Deeper, do you want me to fuck you deeper?" Henri asked lewdly, removing his hands from her helplessly squirming buttocks, and moving them up to her large, pink-nippled breasts that he squeezed and kneaded in growing lust.
Michelle did not answer. Her mouth opened in the silent protestation, but her lips pursed tightly shut when she felt Heather's finger worm farther into her rear orifice. She was impaled now from both sides. The vision of the blonde woman bent over her and Henri cleaving into her moistly clasping vagina sent an electric shock of shame through her pulsating groin and into the rippling flesh of her abdomen. She could feel the sadistic brute's long thick penis grow larger, if that were at all possible, as he began his strong ramrod thrusts. She pulled back away from him, but this seemed to increase his excitement and he drove harder, his thick, sperm-inflated hardness pushing the unresisting moist folds of flesh in surging waves before its cruel searching head.
Michelle looked up again and saw Heather smile in triumph. Then she heard and felt the swift removal of the blonde's finger slipping out of her ass with a moist swish of air.
"Go on, fuck it, fuck it," Heather screamed at Henri, long swatches of cum-matted pale gold hair dangling over her face and giving her a demented appearance.
Heather stood back away from the bed for a moment and watched the lewd scene with dazed eyes. The German Shepherd sat at the woman's side and viewed the writhing figures with a bemused animal curiosity, perking up his ears with each spasmodic lurch and groan from the bed. Low bestial growls came from the dog's panting mouth, completing the depravity of the scene and seeming to merge with the rhythmical moans and squeaking that resounded from the bed.
Michelle's naked young body twitched and writhed uncontrollably as Henri began his last pile-driving thrusts into the deepest recesses of her cunt. He would not be able to hold himself off from climax much longer, and the incredible warmth of the girl's lushly quivering body and the moistly contracting tightness of her hot little cunt brought him closer and closer to orgasm.
There was nothing else in the world for the girl hostage now. No Cal, no Heather, nothing but this deep, mind-dazing screwing of animal lust and flesh, of belly smacking against belly, crotch grinding against crotch.
"That's it, Henri. Fuck her with all you've got," Heather intoned from across the room, driving him on into greater lust-incited fury.
Michelle's eyes opened and closed in a lost gaze of pain and humiliation. Henri was coming in from a new angle-one that gave him added depth. She had not been fucked this deep before, not once in the last two days, and she winced as he routed the head around deep inside, enlarging the virginal end of her channel and feeling her own involuntarily clasping muscles grip at his rigidity like warm elastic.
And Heather knew what Henri needed, what Henri wanted. Reaching into the waistband of her dress, she pulled out a pearl-handled switchblade knife and swiftly cut the bonds that were holding Michelle to the headboard of the bed.
Then Henri levered her unresisting legs up off the bed in an arch flat back over her head, pressing the toes of her feet harshly into the mattress on either side of her shoulders.
"Ram it to her, Henri," Heather's voice goaded excitedly from somewhere in the distance. "Shoot it in her."
Spurred on by Michelle's frantically twisting body below, he dug even more deeply into her, forcing her tortured legs farther and farther back over her head, doubling her in half, fucking into her like a pile-driving machine gone out of control.
He was cumming now, she could feel his waves of unbelievable warm sperm shooting deep into her dilating womb as her head whirled at the onslaught of hot powerful squirts surging wildly into her, filling her to the bursting point with its sticky whiteness. Then it was over, except for the hoarse panting from both of them. Michelle lay back from Henri, sobbing piteously as her head pushed against the wall and her chestnut hair streamed wildly down her neck and onto her firm full breasts. She had felt the hugeness of Henri's cock shoot its enveloping wetness into her womb, and had experienced a half-second of unconsciousness which she recognized as an orgasm of sorts as his burgeoning cock flooded her moistly clasping cuntal passage to the brim. Now he pulled away from her, his slowly deflating cock slipping loudly from her sucking vaginal lips. He lay for a moment beside her and then slid slowly from the bed, leaving her nakedly battered body face down on the mattress.
Michelle looked up for a moment through tear-flooded eyes to see the figures of Henri and Heather gesticulating to one another and the dog looking up questioningly at the two of them. Then to her horror, she saw the two criminals lead the huge, eagerly whining German Shepherd toward the bed. Michelle cringed away and pushed against the wall, a mind-stunning blanket of primeval terror blanketing her as she knew she could no longer escape this horrible fate.
"That's it, Henri, lift his paws onto the bed," she heard the wanton voice of Heather shout out. Then she was screaming as she felt the soft touch of animal fur on her ankle and a warm breath on her calf. A vicious slap across the face almost knocked her unconscious. Her screams choked off in a low moan of anguish, and she moved an inch away, but the animal warmth followed her. . . and the stillness of the expectant spectators filled her with a black dread that was almost paralyzing in its intensity.
Michelle looked back and saw the powerful form of Mackenzie hunched over the bed. She tried to move forward but found the harsh grip of Heather's hands was holding her back, and she grimaced in pain as the blonde gripped her shoulders forcefully downward onto the mattress. She could not move. Heather sat with legs spread wide apart in front of her, while Henri stood to her side preventing any lateral movement. Michelle lay flat on her belly now, her face thrust into the filthy pillow, afraid to move and equally fearful that her stillness would signal a position of complete subjugation to her torturers.
Suddenly, there was the cold touch of animal nostrils against her lower thigh that sent her gaze back and froze her into a position of terrorized fear. Her mind screamed at her paralyzed muscles to move, to roll over, to lower her legs and get off the bed, but her body simply shuddered and the dog stood and growled bestially in warning.
Michelle froze, her thighs pulled close together, not daring to move now as the huge dog growled menacingly once again over, her, his great panting head just above her defenselessly upturned loins. Suddenly there was the feel of hands on her knees and buttocks as Henri and Heather pulled her legs wide apart for the dog's entry.
Michelle felt as though the last moment of her life had come. There was nothing she could do now but submit, and submit she did as Mackenzie's cold wet nose began inching up her thighs and finally lodged against the opening of her fearfully cringing vagina. The horrible violations of her body during the past few days had reduced the young girl to nothing but a vessel of nakedly quivering flesh, and now there wasn't anything except a kind of blind willingness to be subjugated and dominated to the point of absolute self-annihilation. So far as she was concerned, she was totally beaten. Let them do what they willed.
The giant German Shepherd lowered his head to the helpless girl's hair covered crotch and sniffed it. His tail wagged and trembled as though he had found a bitch in heat. For a moment the brunette hostage, in spite of her resignation to her fate, tried to squirm away, but the dog raised his head and growled again and began greedily lapping at the narrow pink slit up between her thighs. He ran his tongue down the full length of it from the tightly puckered anal opening, up over the wetly fluted edges of her cunt, and to the tiny gleaming clitoris atop her pubic mound. His great tongue spread through the soft hair-covered swelling like a hot knife through butter. It flicked relentlessly between the girl's widespread legs, stopping sporadically to sniff at her warmly perfumed cunt and he wagged his tail in obvious appreciation.
Mackenzie was pushing harder, the nose and tongue more persistent at her upturned buttocks. Michelle felt a lewd thrill, at this point only understandable to her because of the subjugation she had gone through before, and she fought with all her will against it. The dog's glistening long scarlet penis slipped from its huge sheath the tapered point slipped and danced in the hot wet crevice as the animal trembled and jerked, trying to push the tapered point and the thick shaft into her body.
Above and around her the shadowy forms of Henri and Heather seemed to set up a lewd chant-like motion. Gone was all sense of protest or violation-she was merely an equivalent of the animal that hunched over her, a receptacle that symbolized the junction of animal and human as in days of old when man was a mythic union of the gods and animals.
Out of control, the dog growled in frustration as Michelle, in desperation, twisted her buttocks in an attempt to push the slippery organ away. But Heather merely reached down and guided the point of it into the cringing girl's narrow pink pussy slit, and Mackenzie immediately began humping forward-each of his eager thrusts spreading her cunt wider and wider apart.
Michelle did not know what she was doing, her responses were merely automatic gestures that had been trained into her over the past few days, and so she, without volition, raised her white young buttocks up to allow easier entry.
The animal lurched heavily on top of her, thrusting his bestial fur-covered paws around her torso as though his forelegs were human arms wrenching around her, writhing back. From deep in her consciousness, Michelle could hear a low gasp coming from the two figures who had stood up from the bed to give the animal complete access to her.
With a cry, she tensed as the long scarlet penis slipped out, but Mackenzie returned immediately to the attack, having tasted success. He knew where and how to go this time. The huge dog jerked forward and with one smooth lunge buried his huge cudgel deep up the kneeling girl's pink, spasmodically grasping cunt.
His thinly tapered penis slithered forward with a wet rush until it was sunk to the hilt, his hairy balls swinging from below her wet pubic hair. Coming to her senses momentarily, Michelle tried to wrench away again, but Heather's hands gripped her forearms and dug her fingernails into her flesh, forcing the girl to submit to the brutal animal impalement. It was being done to her, she thought in desperation; there was a dog fucking into her vagina. It was a fact. There was nothing-absolutely nothing she could do to change that fact or stop it. Let it end as soon as possible, she prayed.
Her face contorted in abject surrender, and she began slow responsive movements, upturning her buttocks and tightly flexing and relaxing her vaginal muscles to bring the dog to climax. Mackenzie emitted a low, almost human growl and thrust his hind legs more closely against the girl's wildly trembling buttocks, and began a tensed jerking, skewering his bestially huge penis farther up into her moistly clasping passage.
Henri bent down a few inches from the bed, a long stream of spittle running down his chin, his idiot-like face a grotesque mask of lewd twitching and contortions. It was even better seeing the dog get the brunette than it had been watching the arrogant Heather being sodomized by the same animal last night. The memory of the orgasm he'd had only a moment before and the thought of his hot cum merging with the lewd animal sperm in the subjected young girl's belly sent a surge of salacious delight through his groin. He began to groan in rhythmic response to the scene in front of him, grasping his long hard cock and pulling at it in response to the lewd animal fucking. Heather bent down her own voluptuously ripe body and thrust her hand up between her legs to play with the tiny hardening pleasure bud of her clitoris. She moved closer to Henri, the dual masturbation of their lust-incited genitals setting up a weird responsive slapping sound that fused and smacked in time to the buffeting coming from the bed.
Michelle's large taut breasts danced beneath her writhing torso, moving in time to the glistening scarlet cock of the dog as it slid into her from behind, a relentless hot poker of animal flesh burying itself deep with her human belly. Gone from her now as all awareness of who she was or how she had come to be subjugated as she was. She lay groaning in tiny unintelligible gasps that seeped from between her tightly clenched teeth like quick puffs of steam from a laboring locomotive inching its way up a steep incline. Her mood seemed to slowly transform itself, and she was surprised when she found herself giving more to the animal than she had ever dreamed. There was only one way to please the rapaciously grinning criminals crouched lewdly in front of her on the floor; she had to appear to enjoy the animal fucking in order to escape what Heather had obviously had in store for her after the animal had spent itself. Yes, she wanted to enjoy it, and strangely, the tiny bit of masochism in every woman suddenly broke forth into a surge of nerve-jangling excitement. There was still the pain but it had become strangely pleasurable, and she found herself wantonly thrusting and squirming back to meet the obscene impalement each time the German Shepherd jerked forward into her.
"Ooooooooh, ooooooooh," the kneeling young brunette groaned from beneath the panting Mackenzie. The dog was lapping his tongue at Michelle's neck and wrenching his paws, yet strangely withholding his long canine claws from painful contact with her skin. His long dripping penis was buried to the hilt up her hotly clasping vaginal passage, and the earlier feeling of pain had gradually given way to electric shocks of salacious delight. In her mind she could picture the movements of the dog fucking into her from behind, and it was like a scene from a pornographic movie; and the pagan image only increased her uncontrollable lust.
"Oh, yes, fuck it like that," she crooned through sensually clenched lips as the beast humped up heavily between her widespread buttock cheeks and rotated the giant blood-filled penis deep around up inside the hotly sucking tunnel of her hungry young pussy.
She had not submitted like this even to Henri, but had held off hoping that his violation would be the last. But now, with all resistance gone, she was mouthing obscenities back at an uncomprehending animal to do things to her with words like "cunt" and "fuck" and "cock." The narrow dividing line between good and evil had now been crossed, and it was obvious that she was enjoying this perverted animal fucking as much, if not more, than with a human. She swept her thick auburn hair from side to side, her lust-blinded eyes not even seeing the wantonly writhing figures of Heather finger-fucking herself or the brute Henri maniacally stroking his blood-inflated cock.
The panting Mackenzie burrowed and growled over the whimpering girl who muttered incoherent noises into the mattress. His long scarlet penis swelled and lurched up a final fraction of an inch, pressing its tip at the opening of her already sperm-filled womb. He yelped once and thrust his fur-covered abdomen more tightly against Michelle's wildly squirming buttocks.
Michelle cried out in desperate prayer, unable to stop herself in the mad pummeling of the wild animal heaving on top of her, feeling his cock swell as though it would burst, not just at the end but all along the full awesome length where the moist rubbery walls of her vagina held it vise-like and hot.
"Oh no, aieeeeeee!" she screamed, the sobs choking down her throat as she felt his penis begin to jerk inside her and realized to her horror that the moment was here when he was going to explode inside her and filled her helpless and unprotected belly with his obscene hot animal cum; there was nothing in the world she could do about it but continue kneeling slavishly in front of him like another animal. And through it all, she knew that she had only hate for the dog. . . because he had come too soon. She had been so close!
There was a stronger yelp from in back of her and she felt his great throbbing cock burst wide open, beginning to boil his hot animal cum into her. Then, with the unexpectedness of a bolt of lightning, her own orgasm struck her and Michelle screamed in animal rapture and rammed back against the dog wildly just as he jerked forward and his cock' began spitting its sperm in hot spurts deep in her clasping vagina.
Heather and Henri on the floor were both approaching orgasm now themselves as they rubbed and jerked at their own genitals; their excitement increased tenfold as they saw the thick white liquid ooze from Michelle's tight little cunt which was violently milking the penis of the dog; trails of the dog's sticky white liquid ran down the firm ivory columns of her legs as she shrieked out her orgasm. Then, her backside glistening with cum, Michelle pitched forward on her face, almost unconscious, the rapidly deflating cock of the dog slipping from her sperm-flooded vaginal passage with a lewd, wet sucking noise that echoed obscenely through the silence of the room.
The exhaustedly trembling young captive lay on her belly panting for breath as the dog heaved off the mattress and sprawled out his weary form next to the bed. Michelle's whole body ached in the aftermath of the painful attack, and she dared not move for fear that even greater pain would assault her. She waited, knowing that the final moment had not yet come, that Henri and Heather who had both reached writhing climax a few moments before, would invent new ways to torment her in a matter of moments.
Earlier that morning, when Cal had left the old house on St. Hubert Street, he had felt uneasy. Christ! There were so many feelings swirling around in his belly, making him uncomfortable. First there was the job. Since leaving the political FLQ, Cal had been not much better than a common criminal. Yet he had never killed anyone. And now he was about to murder the Prime Minister of Canada.
But there was something else causing confusion and uneasiness in the handsome man's gut. That goddamn brunette and her soft innocence. He tried to bury the feelings she aroused in him . . . tried to deny them. . . .
He was in the van now with Louis and Luc and they were almost halfway to Dorval Airport.
Suddenly Cal, in the front seat beside Louie, who was driving, said: "Turn around."
"W-what. . . what do you mean turn around." Louie had been nervous as a cat all morning. His only role was to drive the getaway vehicle, but years of booze had shattered his nerves, and he began to tremble in confusion.
"Don't ask questions Louie . . . just get back to St. Hubert Street.. . . "
"You ain't punking out are you Cal?" Luc asked derisively from the back of the van.
"Shut up . . . both of you. Do what I say." To make sure they obeyed, he pulled a mean-looking revolver from the waistband of his pants, and held it on Louie.
"Okay, man. Okay. Don't get so damned excited."
And then Cal knew what he was going to do.
"I want the hostage with us," he said. "Then, if there's any trouble, if anyone tries to cross us, we can make our getaway . . . I don't trust Bourassa. I don't trust that son-of-a-bitch at all. . . Dig?"
Luc and Louie looked at him with new respect. Cal put away the pistol.
* * *
Heather was rising to her feet now with a slow, evil, trance-like motion, like a snake readying for the attack. Michelle looked up and saw Heather's face looming closer and closer to her, the thin blade of the pearl-handled switchblade glinting now in the early morning light.
Michelle raised her head in weak protest, but she knew that it was useless. Heather brandished the knife over her, slicing it through the air in a kind of hypnotic gesture that caught the gaze of the reclining Henri.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" his startled voice rang out. "A dead hostage ain't gonna do nobody no good, you crazy cunt."
But Heather looked at him despicably.
"I'm just going to carve her up a little bit and make a clever little change purse from her tit skin.. . . "
At that moment, Henri knew Heather was crazy. He began rising off the floor. "Put that knife away," he said, raising a fist at Heather. "Cal ain't gonna like it if he comes back and finds her all cut up."
But he had said the wrong thing, and suddenly there was a wild movement as Heather lifted her arm with the knife. But just before she thrust, Henri leapt up and grabbed her from behind, grappling with her arms. Heather spun around and made a vicious slash against his chest. Mackenzie looked confused, not knowing who to attack, and Michelle felt her last hope dwindle away when she saw that the animal who had been her lover only moments before would not act as her protector. Now it was only a matter of waiting, since she would be unable to avoid the wildly thrusting blade of the deranged woman's knife.
"Drop that knife Heather."
The blonde wheeled around on her heel. It was Cal!
He rushed toward her, wresting the knife from her hand while she still stood there in stunned surprise.
One look around the room told him more than he would have wanted to know about the hideous orgy that had transpired here.
"Get dressed," he said to Michelle, tossing her clothes to her. "You're coming with us."
* * *
Cal had to be cool. . . very cool. . . just walk about the airport as if nothing special were happening . . . as if your gut weren't knotted . . . as if there wasn't a crazy scream looping through your mind.
There was already a crowd waiting to greet the Prime Minister. Cal saw to it that Louie was double parked outside the doors, while Luc was in the right place to cover Cal in case anyone followed him after he had fired the shot that would kill the Prime Minister. And Cal had kept Michelle with him.
Then the two of them were alone together in the airport. There was still fifteen minutes before the Prime Minister's arrival. It's enough time, Cal thought. . . it's enough time. . . .
His eyes glanced up at the television monitors listing the flight schedule. Then he walked over to the ticket counter, and bought two tickets for Acapulco.
Then, walking as fast as he could without running, without attracting attention, still holding Michelle in tow, they arrived at the departure lounge and boarded the plane. Cal and Michelle were seated side by side in the jet, lifting off the ground just as the Prime Minister's plane made its landing.
Cal looked at Michelle. "Tell me one thing," he said, "And tell it to me straight. If you could have chosen between being free and running away with me, would you have come . . . would you have chosen to be with me, or would you have gone home."
"I don't know, Cal," she said quietly. "I don't know."
