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Subject: "Southern Hospitality" by Rhett Dreams, 1/10 [mf, crime drama]
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Date: 2 Mar 1997 21:17:38 GMT
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SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY
by Rhett Dreams (c. 1996)
Authors note: This story borrows characters from two novels by
Thomas Harris: "Red Dragon" and "Silence of the Lambs".
They appear in subsequent chapters. It is highly
recommended that you read this particular story in order;
otherwise, you miss important elements of the plot.
Warning: This fictitious story is decidedly NOT politically
correct and is intended for mature readers.
Chapter One
"Sheriff... ent..."
The police radio squawked in the patrol car of County
Sheriff Paul Trent as he cruised the two-lane rural highway in
Southern Mississippi. It was almost midnight and it had been
very quiet. This was not unusual for this town or this highway.
Most of the traffic took the interstate that traveled along the gulf
coast of Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and into N'Orleans.
Aside from the locals, it was infrequent that a traveler took this
route.
"Trent here," he said into the microphone, his pulse
quickening as he recognized the voice of Ward Price, owner
and operator of the gas station several miles west of his
position. Price only used the police channel for one reason.
Fresh meat was on the way.
"Some sleazy looking guy driving East in a blue van,"
said the disembodied voice on the radio. They had simple code
they used in case someone was listening in on the police
channel. Price said guy but it was a woman driving the car.
Sleazy meant she was a real looker. Blue van translated into a
red sports car.
"Got it. Thanks." Having done this a dozen times, the
team had the timing down perfectly. Price would rouse his
brother Sam to look after the gas station and would be east-
bound with the tow truck within ten minutes. Five miles east on
the highway, Trent took his position behind a clump of bushes
and waited for the target. When the car raced by, Trent
estimated its speed at greater than seventy on the fifty-five mile
per hour road. He pulled out and flipped on his flashers and
accelerated after the girl.
She pulled over a mile down the road and he eased the
cruiser behind her. He smiled when he saw that the car was an
expensive Mercedes convertible with Florida plates. It would
bring at least twenty-five G's from the cut-up shop in Jackson.
Easing out of the cruiser, he walked up to the driver's side door,
his flashlight illuminating the blond girl and the entire front
seat.
"Do you know why I pulled you over, Miss?"
The girl was very attractive and quite stylish. Her thick
blond hair was tied back with a red and yellow scarf. From his
position above her he could see down the front of her yellow
silk dress and noted that her white lace-covered breasts looked
quite sizable. Her dress ended at mid-thigh and her legs were
long and shapely.
"Cause you small-town cops have nothing better to do
than harass people from out of town," said the girl, petulantly.
Then she added, "Just give me the Goddamn ticket so I can get
the fuck outta here."
"License and registration, please," he said calmly while
his blood raced at the insulting comments. She'd pay that one
back many times.
"Jesus H. Fucking Christ!" muttered the girl as she
leaned over and fished in the glove box for her registration.
While she was searching for her papers, Trent scanned the car
and was pleased to see that it wasn't equip with a phone. He
was always quite cautious about abducting a girl who might
have just called someone on a car phone. It was too easy for
the record of that call to help the Bureau trace her movements
and narrow down the search area. Trent had spent twenty
years in the FBI before retiring and accepting the Governor s
appointment to the vacant position of sheriff of this county, so
he knew all the tricks.
"Here," she spat out as she shoved her license and
registration at him.
"It'll be just a moment, Miss," he said and returned to
the cruiser. The license was issued to Bethany Albert, age
twenty- five, and the address was in Tallahassee. The car,
however, was registered to a man in Tampa. Trent waited
precisely two minutes before returning to the car.
"Please step out of the car, Miss," he said, his voice
deep and commanding.
"What the fuck?" said the girl.
"Now, Miss!"
Trent caught a flash of garters as the girl pulled herself
out of the car. After steadying herself on her three-inch heels
she turned toward him and was about to say something snotty.
"Hands on the trunk," he barked, "legs spread!"
Uncertainty appeared in her eyes for the first time. She
moved to obey.
Standing behind her, Trent allowed himself a second or
two to appreciate her shapely form before placing his hand on
her back and pushing her forward onto the trunk.
"Who'd you fuck to get this car? Huh, cunt?" His hands
frisked her professionally and quickly. He found nothing except
the ripe, centerfold body that he expected, dressed to kill in
garters and stockings under her expensive silk dress.
"Let me goooo," she wailed. Then, "This isn't legal you
ass---"
"Shut your hole!" he commanded and pulled one arm
behind her, cuffed it, then the other. The sound of the
handcuffs clasping shut around her wrists added to the girl's
fright and she went docilely when Trent led her to the cruiser.
She cried out when he slammed her against the side of the
police car, holding her there with one hand while he opened the
back door. Trent was quite practiced at these techniques from
a career of law enforcement and a generally nasty disposition.
He had no trouble manhandling the scared girl into the back
seat and locking her in.
Trent pulled out and headed west. As he passed Price
in the tow truck he flashed his lights to indicate that all was
well. Price would have the Mercedes loaded on the flat-bed
tow truck and covered within five minutes. Before day break, it
would be delivered to a warehouse in Jackson that specialized
in preparing expensive cars for resale on the black market, or
cutting them up for parts. By the time they were finished, it
would be untraceable.
Trent ignored the girl's questions and outbursts as he
drove down a series of dark roads until he arrived at the Heinz
farm. It was no longer owned by the Heinz family but was still
called that and would be forever. The only permanent resident
was Tom Webber, a fiftyish black man who acted as caretaker
and helped with the cunt meat brought in every month or so.
Webber had several run-ins with the law, and Trent had used
the last one, vehicular manslaughter, to guarantee his loyalty
and silence. Webber had leapt at the opportunity to avoid
prison and, to top it off, to get a job that paid well and didn't
require much work. And he grew to appreciate the fringe
benefits.
As Trent pulled the cruiser in front of the dilapidated
house, the girl's concern and irritation turned to real fear. This
was clearly no police station.
"Where are we? Wha--- What's happening?" she cried.
"Shut the fuck up, cunt," was Trent's response.
Webber met him as he got out of the cruiser.
"Y'got another one, Mr. Trent?"
"That's right, Tom. I think you're gonna enjoy this one.
She's got a body to die for and an attitude that'll need
correctin."
A wide grin appeared on Washington's face.
"You got it," he said.
"I think I'll help out on this one, Tom. Pay back for
some of the things she said."
"That'll be just fine, boss."
- o -
"Aughhhhhhh," cried the girl as Tom whipped her
again with the belt.
He and Trent had no trouble bringing the girl into this
basement room of old mansion. She was quickly tied onto a
home-made contraption made of wood, metal and upholstered
with leather. Her legs were spread wide and fastened at the
ankles to the base. Her still-clothed body was stretched over
the black leather-covered, barrel-like top. Her arms were
stretched tight and locked in place. The rounded top of the
bondage contraption had a gap at the top that allowed access
to the girls breasts from underneath. Her head was forced up
by a small ledge that fit under her chin.
When her eyes opened again her view was dominated
by Sheriff Trent, who was sitting three feet away in a chair
casually smoking a cigarette.
"Once again, cunt, who did you fuck to get the
Mercedes?"
This time the girl held back the cursing response that
earned her the sharp pain of Tom's belt.
"H--Howard... It belongs to Howard Stennis," she
replied.
"Ah," said Trent. "The registration was in his name.
And the rock on your finger, did he give you that as well?"
"Yes... we're engaged."
"I see," said Trent. "Tell me about him. What does he
do? Where does his money come from?"
"Why should I---"
Her retort was cut short when she screamed after being
whipped by Tom. This time Trent signaled the black man to
continue and smoked silently while the girl was whipped time
after time.
"Stop... Owww... oh, shit... please stop!"
Trent raised his hand, stopping her torment.
"You were telling me about Mr. Stennis."
"Uh, oh... Um, he's retired, I guess," she said, struggling
to catch her breath. With a few prompts from Trent she
proceeded to tell him what he needed to know. Her fiancee,
Stennis, was a fiftyish man who'd made a lot of money on Wall
Street, divorced his wife and moved down to Tampa to do some
fishing and enjoy the local talent. Trent learned that he made
her sign a pre-nuptial agreement that limited her options in case
they divorced. The girl's widowed mother lived in Maryland,
living off her husband's insurance. Trent wanted this
information so he'd be better prepared if anyone began a
search for the missing girl. In Beth's case, however, he
doubted if her street-wise fiancee would do much other than file
a cursory report with the cops. He and the cops would likely
assume that she found another rich man in New Orleans and
perhaps had sold his car for spending money.
When he'd heard enough he motioned to Tom. The girl
cried out again as the black man began cutting off her clothes,
a piece at a time. While he worked his mouth was set in a
crooked grin. He'd never even seen a naked white girl before
Trent had recruited him, much less fucked one. This would be
their twelfth victim and he felt the blood rush to his oversized
cock as more and more of the bound girl's body was exposed.
She cried out and tried every now and then to struggle against
her bindings, but gave up after she had rubbed her wrists raw
against the leather cuffs that held her.
"Best yet, Sheriff," he said when she was completely
nude.
"She'll bring fifty K, maybe more," said Trent in
agreement.
Both men began to undress, eyeing the shapely body of
the sobbing girl. When she saw Trent's cock bobbing in front of
her face, the girl cried again. His cock was at least ten inches
long, the hard muscle covered with thick veins. With her eyes
clouded with tears and her mouth open in terror, Trent shoved a
rubber gag into her mouth. The donut-shaped gag fit over her
teeth and stretched her jaw wide. The center was open, and he
positioned the head of his cock at this entrance to her mouth.
The girl gagged when his cock hit the back of her
throat. Then again when he pulled back and drove once more to
the back of her throat. She fought to control her panic and
forced herself to breath out of her nose. Her panic returned when
she felt the black man's cock press up against her sex, moistened
only by her exertions over the last half-hour. A searing jolt of
pain hit her when the black man stabbed his thick rod into her
sex, trying and failing to gain entry.
"Better grease her up, Tom," said Trent. "We don't
want damaged goods."
The girl pushed the hysteria from her mind, fighting
desperately to survive this ordeal. The cock at her sex was
pulled away, only to be replaced a minute later by greasy
fingers than invaded her dry sex and pushed deep inside.
Trent's thrusts into her mouth continued and she felt his cock
start to enter her tight throat each time he rocked forward.
Strapped in like she was, with her torso bent over the
barrel and her chin propped up by the ledge, the man had a
straight line for his long cock into her mouth and throat. The
girl had considerable experience pleasuring her partners with
her mouth, and had occasionally taken a cock into her throat,
but she had always the one in control. She would time the
throat penetration for after she'd gotten her gag reflex under
control, and relaxed the muscles of that passageway. In this
case she had no control, and the cock was longer than anything
she'd ever experienced. She forced herself to take a breath
each time he rocked back and to will away the gag reflex as he
fucked his long cock forward, into her throat. After another
dozen strokes she felt his balls slap against her chin as his
cock drove deep down her throat.
The pain from her sex returned as the black man forced
his thick rod back into her now-lubricated cunt.
"She called me an asshole, Tom," said Trent as he
watched his associate work his enormous black cock into the
helpless girl.
"Shee-it, boss," said Tom, driving his eleven-inch
monster to the hilt. He paused once she was corked and
muttered, "This girl's gonna wish she hadn't."
Although she was far from being a virgin, Beth Albert
had never experienced anything like the cock that began slowly
fucking in and out of her stretched hole. The lubricant helped a
bit but she still felt pain as his rod filled her as never before,
stretching the walls of her cunt and pressing painfully against
her womb. She tried to block out the pain and focus instead on
accommodating the cock fucking her throat, forcing herself to
anticipate the cadence and to breathe when she could. Her
attention was totally on the cock fucking her mouth.
"Get her ready for me, Tom," said Trent.
The black man grinned and worked a greasy finger into
her ass while he rocked back and forth, driving his cock faster
now into the white girl's tight cunt. As the triple rape continued
Tom increased his pace until he was slamming his hips against
the helpless girl's ass, thereby driving deeper the finger that
stuck lewdly in her ass.
The girl's brain clouded over with conflicting signals
from her body. The cock fucking into her throat was no longer a
problem. It's cadence was regular, allowing her to breathe, and
the early discomfort from each foray her into throat faded away
as the signals emanating from her cunt dominated her senses.
Each time the massive cock scraped over her clit she felt a
building pleasure that was mixed with dull pain each time his
cock bottomed out against her womb. And the finger in her ass
was a new experience, unpleasant at first but now it contributed
to the assault on her senses.
Trent withdrew his cock and stepped back, his cock
shiny from her spit. He pulled the gag from her mouth before
strolling out of sight of the girl.
"Oh!" she chanted as Tom raped his cock brutally into
her cunt. With the cock gone from her mouth all of her senses
focused on the throbbing signals from her clit. The pleasure
was building, driving all thoughts from her head except for the
climax that was soon coming. She felt a new sensation after
Trent backed himself under the table and sucked her hanging
breast into his mouth. When he chewed on her erect nipple
she went over the edge, crying out in release. As the waves of
pleasure rolled through her body and brain, she was dimly
aware of the cock jerking as it slammed into her, and of the
flood of cum that followed.
"Oh, God... Oh, God," she chanted as her orgasm
continued and intensified from the feeling of her tormentor's
cum hosing the walls of her stretched cunt. When she was
finished she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. The
spent cock was pulled out of her cunt with an audible plop, and
she felt guilt and shame at her body's unwitting response to this
rape.
"Nice piece o' white ass," said Tom, pulling his finger
from her ass and slapping her playfully.
"We'll see," she heard Trent say. Tom chuckled and she
realized that her torment was not complete. Her brain
registered that the white man hadn't cum in her throat and that
he was going to fuck her now. She groaned inwardly, feeling
again the soreness from her well-fucked cunt, and new hands
on her ass. She cried out when the fingers spread her cheeks
apart and she felt his cock at her anus.
"No!" she cried. "Take me... the other way!"
"You called me an asshole, bitch! Now you're gonna
feel me up yours!"
She screamed as he pushed his cock past the tight
muscle of her anus and into her virgin ass. The pain was sharp
and unrelenting as he worked his greased pole into her ass,
ignoring her cries, until he was buried to the balls in her ass.
The girl cried and sobbed as the sodomy continued, his strokes
slow but unyielding. The pain lessened only somewhat as the
rape of her ass progressed and Trent's fingers dug into her firm
fleshy cheeks.
"She tight, Boss?"
"Yeah, Tom... Good and tight."
Tom watched his boss work his cock back and forth into
the whimpering girl, and smiled to himself. He knew Trent
would leave once he'd finished butt-fucking the beautiful blond,
back to his office to call the Mexican and arrange for the pickup.
Within a couple of days this girl would be servicing ten or
twelve men a day at a brothel south of the border or, if she was
lucky, she'd be en route to the Middle East to spend the next
ten years as a slave to a rich Arab. While Trent was arranging
the details and negotiating her price, Tom would have the blond
to himself for a few hours before he'd have to clean her up for
transport.
The black man grinned and said to himself, "Fuck her
good, Boss man, 'cause I'm gonna be plowin' that white ass jus'
as soon as you're gone."
Tom thought back over the year since he made the
bargain with Trent to take this job. He'd avoided a lengthy jail
sentence, and that was important. He only got paid $1,500 per
month plus a bonus for every body delivered to the Mexican, or
otherwise disposed. Three times it was men that Trent bagged.
If they were pretty they'd sell them to the Mexican, just like the
cunts. And Tom would fuck em', just like he planned to do to the
blond as soon as Trent left.
One time the guy was older and Trent knew the
Mexican would have no interest in him. The fancy car was sold
and Tom buried the man's body in the woods. This was after
he'd kept the man strapped in for twenty hours and raped his
white ass repeatedly.
"God I love my work," he said to himself, his attention
drawn back to Trent when he heard the lawman grunt and
dump his load deep in the blond girl's bowels.
- o -
Sheriff Trent put the phone back in the cradle and
leaned back in his comfortable chair, a smile on his face. He'd
showered after returning to the small brick police building, and
changed into a new uniform, before calling the Mexican.
Rodrigues had bitched and moaned about paying $60,000 for
the girl, but had agreed in the end.
"Just make sure that nigger doesn't damage her," he
said. "And the money is assuming the girl's as nice as you're
claiming." Trent knew full-well that the Mexican would pay,
and that he'd probably get his investment back in six or nine
months, less if he sold her outright.
Trent's real profit was in the girls, not the cars. He'd
probably clear only $10K for the Mercedes after splitting the
proceeds with the Price boys. Except for a two grand bonus for
Tom's services, and the cost of his salary and upkeep, all of the
money from the girls was his to keep.
"Except for the ten percent that Frank charges me,"
thought Trent. His brother, Frank Trent, managed the local
bank and laundered the cash to an offshore account in the
Caribbean. The balance would exceed three hundred thousand
once the new money was deposited.
He said good-bye to the night sergeant and eased
himself into his cruiser for the short ride home. The non-
descript ranch house was dark when he pulled into the garage
and let himself into the quiet house. After locking up his gun
and drinking a beer, he ambled to the back bedroom and
entered, undoing his belt as he looked down at the dark body
on the bed.
Celeste was fifteen when he found her beside the road
one afternoon ten months ago. The small black runaway was
cut and bruised, her clothes torn in rags, having just been raped
in the back of a pickup by two white boys who had given her a
lift, stole her money and dumped her there. Trent brought her
home, cleaned her up, fed her and put her to bed. A few nights
later he came home after a late shift to find her sleeping, nude,
in his bed rather than hers. He accepted her unstated offer and
fucked the young black girl that night, and most nights since.
She kept house and cooked his meals and let him use her body
as he wished. They hardly ever talked and Trent suspected
that he'd come home one day and find her gone, along with the
five grand he kept in a metal tin in a kitchen cabinet.
The girl woke when she heard Trent's boots clunk
against the floor. She rolled over onto her back and sighed
sleepily, her black eyes focusing on Trent as he disrobed in the
dark room. She tossed the sheet off her body and eased her
legs apart. Her hand slid down her ebony body to her sex
where her fingers played idly to get herself ready. Trent was
not one to waste time on preliminaries when he came home for
a middle-of-the-night fuck, she knew, and she wanted her
cunt wet and ready for his long tool.
Now nude, his cock half-erect, Trent stood at the foot of
the bed, his hands on his hips, gazing at the ripe young black
body before him. She was a small girl, just a few inches over
five feet, and her firm breasts were on the small side, barely a
mouthful. But she had a woman's hips and strong thighs, and
her ass was large for her frame. Her slender back flared
gracefully into a pair of firm, meaty black cheeks that stood
proudly from her body.
Trent tore his eyes off the girl and retrieved something
from the top drawer of his dresser. When he turned back he
had a large dollop of lubricating jelly in his palm. As he applied
the jelly to his cock, and stroked himself to his full ten inches,
the girl sighed audibly and rolled over onto her front. By the
time his cock was greased and ready, Celeste was laying with
her head on a pillow, her ripe ass stuck invitingly in the air.
The girl felt Trent's body climb onto the bed and braced
herself when she felt his hands briefly caress her cheeks before
pulling them apart. She'd learned how to take him in her ass
without the pain of the first few times, and pushed back as he
entered her slowly. She moaned as his cock wormed it's way
inside, the sense of fullness overwhelming. She knew that the
feeling would grow more pleasant as he fucked her, and that
she'd cum before he did, twice if she fingered herself.
Trent quietly fucked the young girl, his mind alternating
between the here-and-now and the images of his earlier butt-
fuck with the blond. He stroked his cock steadily into the softly
mewing girl while his hands felt the weight and firmness of her
cheeks and hips. He increased his pace after several minutes,
knowing from the tone of her sounds that she could take him
faster. Having cum an hour or so earlier he was totally in
control, savoring the feeling of her tightness and her
submissiveness and replaying the images of the bound blond in
his mind. He finally erupted after he'd been fucking her tight
ass for over twenty minutes, sent over the edge by the
gyrations and cries of the girl as she came for the second time.
--
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