Chapter 2

                                                   Disclaimer:

If you don’t like graphic sexual stories, if you are under 18, or if you live in a state where reading this is illegal, then don’t read this and leave. If it is illegal in your state to possess this literature then I suggest you leave as well. This is a work of fiction to display fantasy.

WARNING: This story is pretty intense, but as with all my stories, nothing really happens to the characters that they haven’t asked for or injures them. Wait until the end of the story before thinking otherwise, or if in doubt at any time - STOP READING!! I’m preparing to write a feature length horror story and this is my test run.

          Jen

After Amy and I had dragged Michelle into our bed, we began stripping off her clothes. It took a little longer than it might if she were wide awake, but still being under the influence of the pill I had given her, she was really only half awake.  I saw her marvelous boobs come out into the open and looked at Amy for a moment, and then I leaned over to suck on her nipple for a minute. Despite having tasted every inch of Amy’s body, I had yet to even touch Michelle’s.

Amy sat on the foot of the bed and asked me what I thought of her body. I proclaimed that she tasted pretty nice, but not quite as nice as my best girl. She smiled to hear my compliment and asked if she could try her other nipple, and I waved a hand toward it. There we were on each side of our friend’s nude form and enjoying her fruits of warm flesh. Amy and I giggled as our eyes met over what we had done to her at the Frat party, and then what we were stealing away from her now. It was as though we were feasting on our friend as she was now clearly sleeping off the effects of the drug.  

At some point I found myself thirsting for my real quest and sat up. In order to put her in the subservient mood I had recently become aware that she craved, I told Amy to kiss our friend deeply to lick her mouth clean of any remaining remnants of the boys that had sodomized her mouth. She had no displeasure in doing that since she had been so hot watching the donors putting it there, but then I pointed to Michelle’s bared muff. I loved the way Michelle only shaved the sides of her bush to allow her the ability to wear a bikini, and then trimmed the rest of her pubic hair to a very short crop.

Amy balked at her appointed chore, but I told her that Michelle had no ability to sit on her face and make her do it. I coerced her until she finally began pulling our friend’s legs apart and worked her body between them. I waited until Amy was right in there licking deep through her labia and then I pulled her away. I kissed her passionately and I think Amy caught on that I wanted to taste Michelle without actually having to go there myself. It also left me with the air of remaining the dominant one among the three of us.

I didn’t want to wake Michelle, so I took Amy’s hand and led her to the living room of our new apartment. I cajoled her into doing a slow strip tease for me as I removed my own clothes, and then demanded her to come between my legs. Somehow, I knew she wasn’t going to comply.

When I saw she wanted me to get physically coercive with her, I jumped to my feet and tackled her to the carpet. She flailed her hands randomly; making it a trial to control her. I worked my body across hers and when I felt her small breasts mashing into mine, I needed to drink up all her sexuality. Remembering that I hadn’t seen her close up since the tattoo parlor, I spun around and went into a sixty-nine with her. The top of her mons was all red and bumpy from her treatment, but the rest of her untouched beauty was absolutely edible. I had to work my ass right into her face before she felt free to eat me, but the second I got her going I rewarded her by doing the same for her.

I was awoken in the morning with a hard shove to my side and Michelle was screaming, “You bitch! What did you do to me?”

I snapped to attention and quickly realized what she was screaming over. I started out lying by saying I didn’t know what she was talking about and Amy began stirring from the noise.

“You’re lying. I counted the pills and there’s three missing. And I remember things, too. How could you do that to me?” Michelle turned and stomped out of the bedroom.

Michelle

I was sooo pissed at Amy and Jen. I woke up an hour ago and didn’t understand my headache for a while. It wasn’t anything like a hangover and I didn’t feel sick at all. As I sat at the kitchen table, I remembered I had a weird dream and figured it was just another one of those that had been plaguing me since Mexico. I was about to dismiss it until I remembered seeing something different this time. I had seen Jen and Amy next to me and then things just came rushing back to me.

After remembering being surrounded by men at one point and wondering how I would allow myself on my knees like that, I remembered the pills that Jen had received from our captors. I knew where she had put them and had even counted them the day she first showed them to us for this exact reason. I went to count them again and found three missing. I wanted to strangle the bitch, but there were still things coming back to me that I wanted to put together before confronting her.

Jen came out of the bedroom with Amy right on her heels. I stood up and as she came up to me, I slapped her with all my might across her face. She grabbed her cheek and ran back to the bedroom. Amy was screaming at me to listen to her, but I went after her next. She started running around the apartment trying to get away from me and did a good job of it for a few minutes as I screamed at her.

Just as I caught up to her, Jen came back fully dressed and told me to leave Amy alone. She took all the blame for what they did to me and said she had forced Amy to go along with it only after she had drugged me. I started at her again, but she threw two pills in a baggie on the couch, and walked out of the apartment. I called her a fucking whore one last time and went back to screaming at Amy.

It took Amy nearly a half hour to calm me down to where we could speak in normal tones and I was ready by then to hear all her excuses. After she got started telling me all the little details I hadn’t figured out yet, I started to understand why she and Jen had done those things to me. In some ways, it was no different than what we had done to Amy. When she explained it to me that way, I finally began to simmer down. I even started feeling guilty over where Jen had run off to in such a hurry. We began calling around looking for her, but she wouldn’t answer her cell and no one else we knew had seen her.

It was coming up on noontime when Amy and I really started worrying about where she had gone and decided to go looking for her. We spent nearly two hours looking every place we could think of for her, but never found a sign. We finally decided to go back to the apartment and wait for her. When we went through the door, I started to get pissed all over again because she was there. After everything else I had to be mad about, now she had worried the shit out of us. I saw she was writing something out on a piece of cardboard and went over to see what it was, all the while ranting at her.

La casa del Dolor it read, and I figured out that it said the house of something. I kept ragging on Jen when she got up and went over to the spare bedroom and taped the apparent sign to the door. I felt much worse when she turned to come back to me and I saw her eye was half shut and her face inflamed; obviously from my blow to her face. Just then Amy figured out the sign and read it out loud to me.

“It says, House of Pain. Why did you put that there, Jen?”

Amy saw her face and rushed over to the both of us and I began apologizing profusely to her. Her blank stare was scaring me and she walked right by me to go into the kitchen. When she came back she held a glass of water in one hand and one of the pills in her other hand. I tried telling her that Amy had told me that she had only given me one pill and that I understood why she had done that crap to me, but she put the pill in her mouth and swallowed it down with the water.

“What are you doing?” I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to prove and told her, “You don’t have to do this. We can talk this all out. But now maybe you should just go to bed for a while until we have the time to get into it.”

Jen twisted her jaw to one side and said, “No, you’re right! I deserved the slap because of what I did to you and I’m sorry. I should have at least given you some notice that it was coming before assuming you would like it. I just wanted to make sure you knew we were all on the same footing so you wouldn’t keep messing with Amy in public, and then I did the same damn thing to you. Well… now it’s my turn.”

Amy and I exchanged perplexed looks and watched as Jen began taking off her clothes. I apologized again for slapping her so hard and felt even worse as I looked at her swelled up face and half closed eye. She sat down on the couch and for some reason I was getting a little turned on by her unprovoked nudity. Then she started to explain everything going on in her mind.

“It’s like this; this is all I have to offer you to make things right. I made the sign because we all seem to have one thing in common, so it seemed right naming our play room, the House of Pain. Give me another fifteen minutes or so and you can do with me whatever you find fitting.”

With that she stood up and went back into our bedroom and reappeared with her rope style belt. Amy and I were somewhat speechless as we watched her take her trinket, the dog collar, down from the console. She walked back around to sit on the couch, attached the belt to the collar, and then fidgeted trying to get the collar around her own neck. Amy got tired of watching her fail and went to help her get it on. She asked Jen what she was trying to prove and simply got a repeat of her earlier statement. I could see she was struggling to say something else though, and then, “I got you two a little help in the other room to put our humiliation on the same level.”

I snapped my head to Amy and we both went to the spare bedroom to see who was there. She opened the door and let out a little scream as a German Shepherd came running out at her. Our obvious first thoughts were those of little girls. Amy cried out, “You got us a dog?”

It all came crashing thunderously into my head as I knelt down to play with the frisky boy, looked under his belly to see that he was indeed a boy, and calmly explained it to Amy. “She didn’t get him for us; he’s for her.”

Amy snapped around to question my statement and I could see she still wasn’t putting it together. I led Amy with my eyes to his hind quarters and gave that little “duh” motion with my neck, and her eyes grew wide as she finally figured it out.

“Nooooo…” She turned to question Jen and asked, “That’s not what he’s for, is it? You can’t be serious? Noooo way are we going to do that to you.”

Jen spoke up, “But it’s only fair; especially after what I did to you Michelle. And if I’m going to keep your respect, Amy, I owe it to you as well. If we’re really going to be in this all together then you have to do this to me.” She pointed at a coil of rope on the floor next to our ottoman and suggested that the ottoman would aid Bubba very nicely after the pills hit her.

We both tried to tell her that this wasn’t necessary and that we both understood everything she was saying, but then she gave us both something much worse to really worry about.

Jen pointed towards the console and we saw a letter on it. I went over to read the letter as Amy looked at the picture under the envelope. I read the letter out loud as Amy began fretfully crying. It read, “You can run, but you can’t hide. You were made in Mexico. Do you want to die in Mexico?” and then there was a phone number after the message.

I looked to see what Amy was so upset over and saw the picture as she handed it to me. It showed three shallow graves out in a desert someplace. Their message was clear.

I asked Jen, “Where did you get this? Do you think they’re going to kill us?”

“It was in the mail when I got back. We forgot to pick it up yesterday. I called the number and no one would speak, so I told whoever was listening that we hadn’t tried to hide and that Amanda already told us that we couldn’t. After I told them that we decided to move in together and just needed a bigger place, a man just said one word – Good.” Jen had put us at ease and then went further. “I even told him that we had learned things about ourselves and that we were… doing stuff about it. I told the guy that they didn’t have to worry about us; that we knew we belonged to them now and wouldn’t go to the cops or anything. I ended it with how we had all come to love our brands. He seemed pleased and repeated – Good, again and hung up. I guess we have a contact number now. It’s probably one of those prepaid, untraceable cell phones they have all over Mexico.”

Amy began crying a little over the picture and reiterated that they really were keeping track of us somehow and how she feared being kidnapped again. Jen and I reminded her that Amanda had told us how that wasn’t the way they did things and that seemed to calm her down a bit. However, there was no escaping the implications of it all. They were able to see something as small as moving a mile away from my last apartment, and big enough of an operation to follow through on their promises. But I knew we were being perfect victims and it was much easier for me than Amy to put it out of my mind.

I was about to ask Jen another question when I saw her teetering on the couch and was brought back to the situation at hand. I went over to sit down next to her and tell her that we couldn’t do what she was asking again, but she said how the letter made it all that much more important. She even called Bubba over to her and had him sniff at her crotch as she teased him by saying, “Gonna get you some, boy? What do you think? Gonna make me your bitch soon? Don’t worry; the girls are going to help you.” She then asked me to take some pictures of us as we did everything so that we could send them to our captors, if they would give her an address. She was offering up her own embarrassing situation to make sure our owners, the Mexicans, stay appeased.

Amy and I began discussing what we should do and went to work. We dragged Jen’s limp body over to the ottoman and began tying her securely to it. She was still able to talk to us, but it was labored mentally. She was only half way among the living. Bubba noticed the human girl in receiving mode and began sniffing at her backside. Amy and I looked at each other and wondered…

Amy

“Where the hell is she? I know they got her; we need to call the cops.”

“Will you cool it, Amy? You saw her note for yourself. She said she would be back sometime tonight and it’s only ten o’clock. If she’s not back by sun up… we’ll talk about the cops then.”

I was so fucking scared. I knew the whole week had been shit. Jen barely spoke to either of us and I knew there was something major wrong with her. I kept telling Michelle that she must have gotten a second letter from our kidnappers that she had hid from us. She kept telling me that she was just mad over what we had done to her last weekend with Bubba. I wished Michelle would have let me tell her the truth and maybe she would still be here with us.

It started on Friday night when we went out to celebrate my birthday coming up on Tuesday. We had gone to about the last place we could get into to drink with our bogus ID’s. Everything seemed better than I expected until around eleven o’clock. Jen told us that she was going out to the car to make a phone call and that was the last we saw of her. But there were two things left behind. On the car windshield was a short note from her telling us that she needed the rest of the weekend to herself and would be back late Sunday night.

If that was the only thing, we wouldn’t have been worried so much because we had known how withdrawn she had been towards us all week. But a man came over to the car when he saw us reading the note and told us that he had seen something a few minutes earlier that had bothered him. He had seen a girl that matched Jen’s description walking out of the bar and towards the car. A couple of men stopped her and seemed to walk her off in a different direction. He hadn’t seen where they had walked her to because it was in the lot behind the bar. But then a short man went running over to the car and put the note under the wiper blade and ran off again. He had read the note and asked if it was actually in our friend’s hand writing. It was; and seemed calmly written. We thanked the man and pretended to know what had happened so he would go away, but then we began wondering what was really going on.

I was sure it was much more sinister than Michelle wanted to acknowledge, but she kept reminding me how she had done something like this before when she had run off with a guy for a few days just to get laid. But that was different; she had been seeing the guy for a couple of weeks and we had known all about him. She had even mentioned at that time that she was hoping for a real stiffie. This time she even left her purse behind and had told me to look after it.

I swore at Michelle and asked, “Why didn’t you let me tell her the truth? If we told her, this probably never would have happened. You just had to get even with her, didn’t you?”

Michelle was clearly getting fed up with my outbursts, but I was so fucking scared over what might have happened to her. I didn’t let Michelle see me, but I couldn’t keep from looking at that damn picture of the three graves dug out in the desert. I even called the number in their letter several times, but no one ever picked up. Now I was at the point of begging them to release her and take me. And I knew Michelle was beginning to get really worried herself because she wasn’t telling me to “shut up” as much anymore.

By midnight I was crying so hard that Michelle sat next to me on the couch and wrapped her arms around me, and began rocking me. Somewhere along the line we both fell asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. We were woken by a thud against the door, and I saw it was three minutes past two in the early morning. Michelle and I looked at each other and knew it had to be Jen at the door. There was a weird knock and I ran to open it. I wanted to die when I did.

“Oh, my… god! Jen… what happened to you?” I reached out to help her and the bitch managed her stupid little smile, like always. “They got you again, didn’t they?”

Michelle was right there and began helping me half carry Jen to the couch. She looked so messed up and had two black eyes, a cut on her neck which also showed clear signs of being strangled, blood under her nose, and was dressed in the same kind of clothes we had been dressed in before. Jen was trying to talk but seemed extremely parched and I ran to get her some water from the kitchen. When I got back, Michelle seemed mad as hell and was forcing Jen onto her left side on the couch. I paused and while trying to understand what she was doing, I saw her yanking Jen’s shorts off her hips. All of a sudden, with ire unlike anything I had ever seen, she screamed, “You mother fucking bitch! You went back there, didn’t you? You could have been fucking killed.”

I was afraid of Michelle, but I wanted to see what she had seen and when I got to the side of the couch, it was as obvious as the new red burn on Jen’s ass. I looked closer and saw it was nothing more than a fresh brand; a dot, apparently after the swelling and redness went away, we would see that it would be over the X in Mexico. I knew what Michelle was yelling about now… and joined her as I broke out in a hysterical cry fest.

Michelle told me to help get Jen to bed and we helped her limp into the bedroom. She seemed in much worse shape this time than last and we went quite gingerly with her. After sitting her on the bed, we worked to take her top off very carefully. Both of her breasts had seemed to have been beaten and bruised to the point that they were just two large lumps of purple bruises. There was a bite mark on one of them and I grimaced over the pain that had to have caused. Bruising on tits is an easy thing to cause, but this amount was beyond belief. Jen smiled her stupid little smile when she saw us checking her out.

Jen fell back onto the bed and Michelle got right in her face and demanded loudly, “Was it worth it? Huh? Was it worth the fucking beating? Did you enjoy the fuck that much?”

Jen tried to speak, and after catching her breath she whispered, “I know… about… last weekend. It wasn’t right. I had to… make it right.” Michelle and I snapped our eyes in a look of disbelief and then Jen added with her sick little grin, “And yes… it was one hell of a fuck.”

Michelle leaned over her gingerly and began crying harder than I had ever seen her. I joined her and it was becoming clear that Jen felt so bad about what we had done to her that she felt the need to risk her life to prove to us how much she cared for us. We never wanted this to happen, and we had even tried to spare her the torture she felt she deserved after what we had done to Michelle. What she didn’t know though was the solemn secret Michelle had sworn me to hide from her just as I had made Jen swear to hide my secret from Michelle.

The night of the frat party hadn’t taken the unexpected turn we had thought. As a matter of fact, Jen had gotten it exactly right. Michelle had feared, and still does, having to swallow for a guy. But having had the option of choice stolen away from her that night made her as excited as she had ever been. That fact had even taken a day to hit her, but when she finally confessed to me that she had realized that it was something she needed to have done to her, she made me swear to never let Jen know that she was finding her fingers in her crotch constantly every time she was alone thinking about what we had made her do. Now this all happened because we have all these damned secrets from each other, but then if we shared them openly, I knew their meaning would diminish greatly. Just as I didn’t want Michelle to know how much I liked the idea of Jen “owning” me as the Mexicans had, she didn’t want Jen to know that her mind craved the feeling of what they had forced her to do in Mexico. It turned out that for both of us, our greatest euphoria was in the fact that someone close to us believed that our reluctance to enjoy our deepest cravings was real. To partake of such twisted perversions seemed to need some protection from exposure to continue having its desired effect.

Michelle and I pulled ourselves together and finished pulling off Jen’s shorts. There was a number written on her belly that made no sense. The entire area between her thighs was purple and her labia was so swollen that when I tried to inspect her between them they felt hard from the blood left engorged in them until her body could reabsorb it. There was still a great deal of spent cum seeping from her body and dried remnants matted in her pubic hair and across her thighs. On one of her legs were the unmistakable marks from where someone had pinched her over and over. I knew the look well because Michelle left marks like that on me several times when taunting me. Jen had about three dozen of them in the one spot.

As I pulled the shorts off her feet, the sandals they had dressed her in fell away and I was horrified. The bottoms of both her feet were beet red and welts covered them. I guess that explained her extreme trouble with walking. Michelle had left and come back with a couple of wash clothes and handed one to me. I showed her Jen’s feet and began wiping them gently. She worked on cleaning her vulva from the mess they had left her in and we both cried as we worked on cleaning her up.

The next thing we knew, the sun was washing into our eyes and I could smell bacon. Michelle and I fell asleep sitting up, somewhat, on the couch so as not to shake the bed under Jen. I pushed on Michelle to finish waking her up and we both trudged to the kitchen to find our raccoon-eyed friend cooking herself breakfast. She was moving very slowly and only had a gown lightly draped over her.

Jen said, “I’m famished. It’s not like they fed me like they would have the horse licker here.”

Michelle was grinning ear-to-ear and we were both so glad to see Jen at least trying to smile. The whole week earlier there had barely been a hint of happiness in her. Michelle went into her motherly mode and took over cooking for her, and I insisted in helping her to sit down at the table. I begged her to tell us why she had done this and asked for reassurance from her that it had been her idea and not theirs. It was slightly better knowing that it was indeed she that had set herself up, than that they had kidnapped her against her will again.

As we sat at the table taking turns putting food to her mouth, Jen began telling us what she had done. She had figured out that despite the pictures that we had taken of her getting screwed by Bubba, they had all been staged. Even if he had of been willing, which he wasn’t, we couldn’t have done that to her. She was our leader in this new life and we couldn’t bring ourselves to disrespect her like that. But our refusal to make things even in her eyes led her to call the number they had sent us in their warning. All she said was that she needed to “come back” and where she would be at exactly eleven o’clock on Friday night. It was them that had spirited her away in front of the witness. She had just been heading to her car to leave the note for us when they snatched her. Jen begged them that it would be smart for them to leave the note on her car to keep us from calling the cops, and to let us know she was okay. That was why our witness had seen the man doing just that.

I asked her about her feet and she said they had slapped them raw with a stick as two men took turns raping her. She used the term fucking, but come on? It turned out that most of her facial bruises had been left up to Pedro again and I was somewhat sickened when she smiled and talked about Pedro as if he was some great Latin love machine that treated her like a queen. It pissed me off to no end when she even said she had apologized to the woman she found out was Pedro’s wife. She told her that she was sorry for having sex with him and deserved her beating. She seemed proud to say that the woman then spit in her face.

They had used the pills on her again, so once more she had no idea what had happened to her while she was passed out. I noticed the number on her belly because her robe was barely covering her and asked her if she knew what it meant. She looked down at it, but had to ask us what it was. I told her it read 6240. She gave a half chuckle and finally said, “It’s what I’m worth. The guy told me that as he was writing it on me. I guess that’s how much money they made off me.” How could she seem humored by that fact? Then she wondered aloud, “I wonder if that’s in American money or Mexican?” And as she turned to me she asked, “And think they took off the amount I sold for?”

My mouth dropped open and I was stunned that she could talk about herself that way and just as much that she had apparently gone through the whole auction thing again. I could tell she had, by the rope burns still evident on her wrists. I told her that I was going to run out and get a douche bag for her after she finished eating and that we would help her use it, repeatedly. After seeing how many men had abused us that first time, we had worried about catching something from them.

The next week dragged by as we watched Jen’s injuries heal and her swelling go down. The purple bruising seemed like it would take forever to go away. I wanted to ask about her reasoning for putting herself through such a horrific experience, but every time I broached the subject she would shy away. I finally figured out that it was because of our vicious circle of secrets, and then it hit me. The only one that would be able to open her up would probably be Michelle. After all, Jen was holding my secret, I was holding Michelle’s and so it followed that Michelle should hold Jen’s. I told her about my thoughts, and she agreed to try to pull Jen out into the open; as least to her.

Michelle

I was lying on the bed next to Jen and telling her once again how her face looked like hell. A week had already gone by and she still had another week to go before healing up. I took what Amy had said to heart and expressed my sentiments to Jen. At first she tried to stay bottled up, but I finally came right out and asked her, “What the hell is it, Jen? How can you get off on getting smacked around?”

She did the jaw twisting thing for a minute and finally asked me, “How can you look at your glass and crave to see it full in front of your mouth? I know you’re going to deny it, and that’s cool. But I can read you guys, and I know there’s something deep inside you that you loved about be forced to drink that glass. I guess there’s something deep inside me that finds getting roughed up highly erotic. I’ve been thinking about all three of us and you know we have one thing in common about all our little… fetishes.”

I tried to figure out what that might be but couldn’t come up with the answer. I finally asked her to tell me.

“It’s being coerced… and compelled. We feed off of having our minds menaced by things that frighten us. We all want someone to drink up our deepest desires and use them against us so we can pretend to not like what’s happening to us.”

I was shocked into silence. I hadn’t really thought that she knew about my secret, the secret I’m just beginning to understand myself, but she just described it better than I could. And knowing that she knew, despite not saying it out loud, was making my lower regions quiver in a wild desire for a touch of her hand the way she liked to touch Amy. That’s when I realized for the first time that she could read me like a book. Jen caught my eyes darting to her face to feel her out, and then she asked me, “You ever eat out a girl before; other than Amy? I mean, who wouldn’t take a lick of that cute little bod, but, well… have you?”

I thought for a minute if she was asking me to do it to her, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit my past dalliances or that I have longed to have her treat me a little like she does Amy, so I told her I didn’t care to talk about my history in that area.

Jen asked, “What would it take to get you between my legs?”

“A lot of rope,” I chided.

“Am I that gross?”

I realized that I had dissed her without thinking about it and quickly tried to explain myself. “Well, you do look pretty hideous after you’ve had sex. Look at you! But that’s not what I meant. I mean it would take a lot to get me down there. Let’s face it; I’m not an easy lay for a girl.”

“How come? Do girls scare you?”

I thought about it for a moment and I think it was more that Jen scared me. I found her very intimidating when it came to sex for some reason. I could talk to her easily about guys, but even having her watch me mess with Amy left me feeling very vulnerable. I finally shrugged my shoulders and told her that it was she that scared me because of how aggressive she could be.

Jen began trying to stare me down, won within seconds, and then pushed me over and onto my back. I started pushing her away, but not too aggressively. She got close to my ear and whispered so I would have to stop fighting her to hear. She asked me, “I wouldn’t do it now after that frat incident, but what if I did use a lot of rope on you sometime? Would you hate me all over again?”

I shook my head and told her I didn’t really hate her the last time, but I added, “You’d better be ready for a fight, bitch, because I wouldn’t just lie there and take it.”

Jen looked me in the face, smiled like the cat with a bird in its mouth, and told me, “Then it’s a date. Friday night I’ll be coming for you, cutie, and I’m going to put you to work on me.”

I pushed her off me and made a fleeting attempt to hide my true anxiousness over her projection, but her response made it clear that I had failed. She left to find her toy and I was left there to melt into a bundle of unbridled nerves. I was equally gripped with a combination of fear… and anticipation.

Amy

Jen came out of the bedroom grinning broadly. I asked her what she found so funny and she said she had just been having fun with Michelle. Oddly enough, I found myself working to get my nose close to her hands to see if I smelled anything funny. I know it was absurd to be jealous, but that beast wears many hats.

Jen plopped down on the couch and pulled me to her, and groped my chest. It was the first time she had playfully grabbed at me since her return trip to Mexico, and I lounged into her chest to wallow in her touch. She told me that she had some bad news for me and began breaking the news slowly to me about how she had just made a date to harass Michelle on Friday. For some reason I didn’t have any problem with that, but I did feel a bit excluded until Jen invited me in on the fun. She left it as a battle of wills that rubbing me into her face would help placate.

It was sort of cool knowing she was bringing me along on her “date” as her sidekick, but I made sure that Michelle wasn’t going to throw a fit a second time. After telling me that she had made sure to warn her, I fell into a sad thought I had been having all week. Jen asked me about it and I told her I was wondering why her captors from the second time hadn’t sent her home with a package as they had the first time. She confessed that she had wondered about that herself and figured that maybe that was only a one time thing. Besides, she was glad not to have the burden of viewing her humiliation.

That would soon change in the next couple of days when she and I came home to find a weird wooden contraption hanging from the doorknob of our place; and worse yet, the door had purposely been unlocked and left ajar. I asked Jen if she knew what the device was and we were about to call the cops about a break-in when Jen stopped me. She pointed to the PC monitor to the side of the couch and there was one of those yellow sticky notes plastered to the center of the screen. She grabbed the wooden thing and shut the door, and after a quick look to make sure the apartment was empty, we went to read the note.

All it had was a suggestion to do a search for Made in Mexico on a popular peer-to-peer file share network. We signed online, and made a search for pictures, but found none. We tried another search for videos and instantly at least three dozen came up. I grabbed Jen’s arm as she sat down in the chair and started going through the sub-headings. She clicked on three different videos that had her name next to the heading and sat back to await the bad news. I rubbed her shoulders and we talked about what might be there. Her fear was obvious; that anyone could now pull up a video of her being tortured, raped, or god knows what.

When the first video had finished downloading, Jen looked up at me in abject horror and clicked to view it. It was the second biggest file and it started with Jen appearing half awake lying on a stage of some sort, totally nude and unbound. She rolled around a little as someone walked into the scene wearing a black hood, and towing some sort of a hoist along with him. In his other hand was the wooden piece that had been hanging from our doorknob.

It didn’t take long to see that the man was placing the device over her boobs and as he tightened the clamps, two pieces of wood came together squeezing her breasts tightly between them. Her nipples hardened and popped out the top of the wood slats and she winced to some degree over the pain. The man then took something out of his rear pocket and we soon saw they were leather cuffs he was placing on her wrists and ankles. After they were all attached to her limbs, he went around her and fastened each to rings in the floor which left her spread-eagled on the floor.

I realized I was digging my nails into her shoulders and relaxed my fingers, and then the whole scene came to shear horror as the man stood, grabbed the hook hanging from the hoist, and hooked it through a ring in the wooden yoke on her chest. The bastard started pulling on the chain of the hoist and we watched in total shock as he lifted her body off the floor by her boobs until her arms and legs were fully stretched out.

Jen sat silently staring at the screen without saying a word as she began to wiggle her body around on the video in reaction to the pain. To prove he was a real prick, he grabbed a hold of the hoist and began swaying it back and forth. At one point, Jen came to life and screamed out in pain. I reached past Jen and hit the close button on the video. Behind us we heard the door open and Michelle was coming home from her job. She wanted to know what sick porn we were viewing and in a kidding manner asked if it was of us. I shook my head real quick and put my finger to my lips to hush her, and she came over to see what we were doing.

I handed Michelle the note from the screen and after she read the titles on the file sharing program, she caught on. We stood behind Jen waiting to see what she would choose to do next. I guess she wanted to get it over with, and clicked on the next video. It was a familiar scene to us and began with her being hung on a hook with her hands bound over her head. She was wide awake and flinging her legs around to defy her sellers. The auction to sell her off to some perv began and I was repulsed seeing the festival-like attitude of all the sickos bidding on her and the others cheering those that did.

After a lull in the bidding, a man cut her ankles free and a woman joined him to spread her legs wide to display her to the bidders and audience. When the hammer finally sounded, a cheer was deafening from the crowd and the clip was edited to the next horrific scene. I looked away briefly as the branding iron was showed to the camera, and when I looked back the camera was facing at Jen’s face as it twisted with the fear of knowing what was about to happen to her. She bit down hard on the towel in her mouth as the side of her head was mashed into the floor looking away from her impending pain. I watched as the man came around to her ass, spent a good deal of time lining up his aim, and touched the red hot iron to her ass.

Jen appeared fantastically brave as she held her body stiff until it was over, and then she twisted under the pain into a fetal position. The last shot of the clip was a close up of her brand with the new reddened dot over the X, as she was being carried away to the sounds of the cheering crowd.

Now both Michelle and I had our hands on her shoulders trying to comfort her. Michelle wasn’t exactly sure of how the P2P worked and wanted to know if anyone could find these videos. Without knowing what she was doing, she was making it that much harder on Jen. Yes, anyone could get these videos and by the number of carriers I saw after each download, a lot already had them. They would be impossible to stop from getting passed all over the world now.

I looked down to see Jen wringing her hands between her knees over whether or not to open the last file. Just as I was about to pull her away, she reached forward and hit the preview button. Right away, we could see Jen being thrown into the wall next to a bed. A man came up to her and pushed her hard against the wall, and then turned her around to face the wall. The camera was guided down to her brand as if to use it as an intro, and then a hand slapped at it hard.

The scene cut to Jen being pinned on the bed underneath a man sitting on her chest and pinning her arms over her head. Her face was untouched at the moment, but she looked all so defiant. Michelle and I looked at each other and we probably both were figuring out that the guy on the video was her “beloved” Pedro. There was something in the way she held her face on the screen, and now in real life that told me this was going to hurt her as she watched it. I asked Jen if she wanted us to leave her alone, and she answered by reaching her hands back to rest on ours which were still on her shoulders.

The man began taunting her by rubbing his cock all over her face and trying to humiliate her. She was refusing to open her mouth for him, but that didn’t seem to be the crux of this treatment anyway. It appeared more to be a way to get her pissed off and ready to fight back. The guy started slapping her face from side to side, but in a relatively easy manner. Jen never closed her eyes or reacted in a painful way. Then something I found extremely strange happened. The guy forced two fingers into her mouth and began imitating a fucking motion. This did bother Jen and we could see her reacting. Pedro seemed to be making gleeful sounds that she didn’t like what he was doing and began pushing his fingers deeper to force her to gag.

In a flurry, Jen’s hands began slapping wildly at the guy, but it was impossible for her to get his fingers out of her mouth. Then it was clear that she had had enough of his choking her and we could see she bit down on his fingers. That started the true hostilities. Michelle and I winced as the man withdrew his fingers, brought his hand back to his shoulder, and then back-handed her across the face; making a sound I’ll never get out of my head. Jen never showed a tear, but whether it was just that as girls we could tell what she was doing, or it was just that obvious; she spit in his face. He went nuts, as any girl might expect from such an act of defiance, and one hand went to her throat as the other slapped her face hard several times.

We saw Jen begin kicking him off her and at one point got a foot under his belly and pushed him clear off the bed. He came back at her with a vengeance and she backed into the wall. Now she truly seemed scared of what she had done to provoke him and curled into a ball. He reached out to grab for her ankles and dragged her back into a prone position as he began working his legs between her knees. I felt my own legs snapping together in a hopeful way that Jen would win over her attacker and be able to keep him from opening her up. I could see the muscles in her legs fighting with all their might to keep her legs together, but then Pedro punched her in the stomach; thus forcing a win over the situation.

The bastard dragged her body lower to meet his and he fell over her. Again, a hand went around her throat to keep her pinned to the bed, and again she tried to spit on him. I couldn’t believe for anything in the world that Jen didn’t know what spitting at him would do to steel his resolve to rape her. I looked down at her and noticed that the wringing hands that had been between her knees were now performing the same motion very closely to her crotch. My eyes darted between the horror on the screen and her hands. I could tell what was coming and soon I saw it. One hand stopped wringing the other and cupped her vulva tightly, and the other hand covered that one. Her eyes were transfixed on the action playing out on the monitor and I could tell she was not only reliving the scenes, but seemingly enjoying them in some sick manner.

It was clear when Pedro actually penetrated her from her body reacting in a stiffening way. His hips took huge, deep thrusts into her and she raised her hips. Any girl knew this particular motion wasn’t a defensive action, but one of trying to get the guy’s cock to go further into her. Several times I could see her hips buck purposefully into her attacker’s pelvis over the need for a harder grind. I thought I had been a rather aggressive fuck for a couple of my past boyfriends, but this was totally unreal. Even when she would twist her body under his, it was easy to tell from a girl’s point of view that she was merely forcing him to try harder to keep his cock pinned inside her. One of those twists resulted in his frustration leading him to put the bite mark on her tit that I had seen on her after coming back to us.

I had just taken one last look down at Jen’s hands and saw she was making a powerful squeezing motion against her clit through her shorts. Michelle’s eyes were fixed on the screen and I don’t think she ever noticed Jen was masturbating herself in some crude way. I felt so sorry for her needing this much violence to feel happy. And then it was clear her rapist was about to cum. He grunted loudly, pushed back to see her tormented face, and placed his hand to her throat one more time to thrill his ego. I could see his hips taking those jutting shots into her as he shot his load off, and as he committed each thrust, he slapped her face. It wasn’t until then that I noticed she was holding her hips a good ten inches off the bed. The bitch was getting her climax at the same time, but unlike the display on her face of contempt, her hips were clearly making the motion of a girl in a massive orgasm.

I couldn’t seem to see anything else for the moment but her hips. They were telling the only true story at the time, and they were working so hard to garner every feel of the disgusting lover within her. I snapped my eyes towards Michelle’s and saw that she was seeing the same thing now. Our sweet and demure friend was getting her freak on in a way we could never have truly believed if not for seeing it ourselves. My thoughts ran to all the people that would download this video. All the guys would think for sure that this was just a horrendous rape, but I couldn’t see any girl ever mistaking just whom the true rapist had been. Even watching the way her chest heaved as he unceremoniously pulled out of her and drew away after using her up, showed a girl relishing a fantastic cum.

Jen was pushing back on her chair and I could see she was clearly embarrassed over what she had just been doing in front of us. She ran for the bedroom and Michelle and I were left standing there wondering how to overcome such a freaky situation. It was obvious that Jen was even more outrageous than we had been thinking, but that didn’t mean we would abandon her; she was our leader after all. And in many ways I had come to think of her as my lover, and in many ways, my trusty owner. Michelle finally went to the bedroom, opened the door, and I guess in an attempt to give her back some measure of pride shouted in, “Damn bitch, you fucked the shit out of that prick, didn’t you?”

And then I guess as an afterthought she added, “Better not get that fucking freaky on our date.”

If you'd like to read more of my stories, just click on me, Heather.

To write me your comments, Heather's Email