Message-ID: <12452eli$9806232301@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12452.txt>
From: "E.Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: {EZ}MyInhert39 Honkytonkin (M+F Gang rape)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <19980623190605.17358.qmail@hotmail.com>



The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for
adults in locations in which it is legal.  If it is illegal in your
location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or any
other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission
of the copyright holder, except may by posted as part of a  review or
posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sites.

Copyright 1998 by E. Z. Riter.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

This is a mind control, multi person romance with a planned fifty plus
chapters.

Please!  Give me your comments.


MY INHERITANCE

Chapter 39

Honkytonkin

Lisa was squirming in the captain's chair in the truck as we zipped
down the highway.  If ever there was a woman in sexual need, it was
she. The bell was tinkling like sleigh bells at Christmas time.  The
flush never left her face. 

"Looking forward to this?" I asked.

"Oh, no, Davy. I really don't want this!"

"What a lying cunt," the devil dog muttered.  "She is hot as a
pistol."

"Yes, I agree.  She cannot admit to herself how much she likes sex and
how much she wants it.  Therefore, she denies it and makes us force
her into it," the scientist replied.

"What!  You two guys agreeing on something?  This is a first," the
Davy in my brain said.

Had my poor brain spilt again, trifurcating itself?  And, what were
the two deadly opponents doing agreeing?

"It is not really that uncommon. She wants to be a slut but does not
want it, all at the same time. So, she gives the control to her male,
allowing her to be free of responsibility.  Why don't you ask her if
she wants to go back home?" the scientist suggested.

"Ask hell! Take the bitch somewhere and get her gangbanged,"  the
devil dog chimed in.

"Want to go back home, Lisa?"  I asked.

"What? Home?  I thought we were going to a honky tonk."

"Is that what you want?"

"It is not my decision.  It is yours.  I am your slave, remember?"

"If you do go to the honky tonk, you will be humiliated.  Everyone
there will know you are a wild slut.  Is that what you want?"

"Of course not.  But, I must obey what you say.  So, if you say I
must, I must."

Interesting, isn't it?  They were right.   But, why?  Was she afraid
to admit what she wanted? Or, was she unsure of it herself?  Was it a
fantasy she loved down deep in her psyche but was afraid to live? Was
it simply fear of unknown men having her, of the violence or harm
which could ensue? Or, a conflict in her from upbringing (be a good
girl) versus genetics (oh, yeah, let's get laid)?

"We are going to the honky tonk.  You will obey my commands.  I want
you to be humiliated all you can stand," I said.

"Yes, sir," was what she replied but her body language screamed at me.
She could neither repress her grin nor stop her squirming on the seat.
What I had said made her happy. She was being forced into doing what
she wanted to do anyway.  

Assume for a minute you had this situation?  You are the dominant one
dealing with someone over whom you have power?  How do you know what
to do?  Can you believe their words? Their body language?  Do they
really want it?  Is it a fantasy? Where is reality? And, where will
reality be tomorrow, in the cold light of day?  Not only their
reality, but yours? Let's say you force your spouse or roommate into
sex with a third party.  Will you be happy about it the next day? Or,
will you be angry at them for obeying you?

I slowed the truck and made the turn into the tiny parking lot of The
Tomahawk Lounge.

This honky tonk looked like a good place to get into one hell of a
fight.  It was a desolate hole just like a thousand other similar
places spread out over the great southwest.  Mine was the only vehicle
in the lot made in the last five years. If gravel or pavement had ever
graced the parking lot, it was long ago.  The dirt was hard packed and
dust quickly covered our feet as we walked towards the metal door
beneath the sign which said "eer" since the neon "b" was out.

Lisa was trembling, which made the bell tinkle even more. Having it
dangle between her calves she could not stop it without assuming an
awkward position.  When I opened the door, the smoke hit us like a
wave and the roar of the crowd exploded into the still desert night.
Eyes turned to see who was coming in and the crowd roar diminished
when they saw Lisa.  She froze in the doorway, seeing at the men
staring at her.  I knew fear was coursing through her.

"Come on, slut," I said loud enough to be heard by many of them and
walked towards a table.  I felt Lisa's hand on my shoulder for comfort
as she scurried after me.

Three men were standing at the bar, bracing themselves on their elbows
as their dead eyes followed us.  They probably had been telling each
other lies about this woman they fucked or that crap game, or how they
took a stranger in a pool game.  Four more men were around a
dilapidated pool table on which no good game could be played, leaning
on crooked and worn out cues.

The place smelled of smoke and grease and cheap whiskey. The walls
were painted cinder block adorned with beer signs or posters of women.
As I looked around, I saw Rita Hayworth's pinup from World War II and
the Farrah Fawcett poster from the seventies which started the whole
poster craze. It had been awhile since anyone had decorated.  Then, I
saw the Pamela Lee photo blowup, the one where she has cum on her face
and is holding a cock.  So, at least something in the place was
relatively new.

A Hispanic looking man somewhere in upper middle age was behind the
bar. He was about five five in height and probably weighed one hundred
thirty pounds. From the look in his face, he had been in more than one
fight and probably won them all. The rest of them were a motley crew
in various shapes and sizes.  They had one common dominator. They were
the sorriest looking group of malcontents I had ever seen.

The table I selected had a half moon bench big enough for four and two
chairs opposite. After we sat, the pool table went back to their game
and the bar guys to their stories but I could tell they were all
listening to and appraising the newcomers intruding on their turf. The
bartender eased from behind the bar toward us, moving with a rolling
gate, like a man use to being at sea, which the Navy tattoos on his
forearms seemed to confirm. 

"We don't get many strangers, particularly not any that look like
her," he said, his eyes never leaving Lisa's breasts. 

Lisa was horribly red and continued her uncontrollable trembling but I
could smell her flooding pussy even over the stench of the honky tonk. 

"We just want some beer and a little party time," I replied.

"Maybe you should go someplace else."

"Why?  We can pay."

"This crowd, well, they might want to spend some party time of their
own with the lady."

Lisa drew in a quick breath with a sound as her nails dug into my arm.
Someone else might have thought it was fear.  I knew she was about to
explode with sexual desire. A tear formed in the corner of one of her
eyes as she fought to control her breathing.

"Tell them I share but only when I am ready."

"They may not want to wait."

"Then, tell them I have a 9mm Glock in my hand under the table and I
will kill anybody who pushes me too hard."

"Sounds like an idle threat," the bartender replied but his coal black
eyes were on me now and Lisa was irrelevant for the moment.

I pulled my hand out from under the table to show him the Glock. His
eyes got wide and he stepped back a foot. I slipped the gun away
again.  Suddenly, a big grin, showing dirty, broken teeth, covered his
face.

"Your time table sounds fine to me," he said.  "I will tell the boys."

"Thanks, and buy them a round on me."

He nodded and started for the bar.  A door opened in the back and a
man came out, adjusting his pants, settling them comfortably below a
substantial beer belly. Behind him was a ragged woman with a beaten
look in her eyes. You know the look, like the person has been so far
down for so long they will have to climb up to reach what the rest of
us think is the bottom.  

I saw her wipe a dapple of cum from the corner of her mouth as she
came through the door. She went to the bar, picked up a piece of
already chewed gum from the corner and popped it into her mouth. The
bartender whispered to her before she walked toward us.

"Whatcha want?" she asked, popping the gum.

"I will have a Diet Coke, the slut will have a boilermaker."

The waitress started openly at Lisa, perhaps sizing up the competition
for the best man in the room.  Lisa's color had been red ever since I
opened the door and she had never looked up from the floor.  I knew
her blood pressure was sky high.  The waitress  scurried off to get
out drinks.

"Look around, slut. Are you going to enjoy fucking this crowd?"

With considerable effort, Lisa forced herself to start looking at the
men.  They were a sorry lot: drifters, oil field trash, cow hands.  I
would have guessed that of the nine of them, not one had a bath that
week.  And, every one was staring at her at she surveyed them.

I could see why they could not take their eyes off Lisa.  She was a
very attractive woman with a good body.  She wore a see through blouse
which showed off her breasts and her nipple rings.  She had on a skin
tight skirt that did not cover her pussy when she sat, giving every
one a good shot of her beaver.  Most of all, that damn bell never
stopped tinkling.  I knew that bell was the reason the noise level was
substantially less that it was when we entered.  Every man was
listening to that bell and thinking impure thoughts.

Yes, Lisa was a perfect slut and everyone knew it.  She knew it and
she was loving it.

"Why are you being so nice?" Diablo asked. "Let's get on with it."

"No. Let's do it slowly.  Let the tension build," the scientist
replied.

I wondered why the two of them were still in agreement, why the
scientist was not telling us to get out of there.  My own anxiety was
sky high.  I knew it was a situation I might not be able to control,
even with the gun. Was I getting my jollies from the fear?  From
controlling Lisa? Or, the men?

"Here you go, honey," the waitress said, sitting our drinks on the
table. She started to walk away.

"Hey, talk to us for a minute. Are you the only waitress?"

"Does this place look like it can afford two?" was her smart remark.

"What other services do you offer?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"You a cop?"

"No."

"Five dollars for a blow job. Twenty for a straight fuck."

"Pretty low priced."

She grinned. "Look at me, honey.  I am not Lois Lane."

"I will make you a deal. Lisa has always wanted to be a honky tonk
waitress. If you let her do your job tonight, I will pay you fifty
dollars and give you all the money she makes, including tips."

"Davy?" Lisa whispered.

"Shut up, slut," I answered without looking at her.

The waitress looked us both over carefully.

"Just for tonight?  I really need this job."

"Just for tonight."

"Okay. Gimme the fifty first."

"I will give it to the bartender. He can pay you later."

She waved the bartender over. After a hurried conference, I gave him
two hundreds to cover my bar bill and the money for the waitress. She
set down by us.  Lisa's nails were digging into my wrist when I turned
to her.

"Be the waitress. If any man touches you, you freeze and let him do
whatever he wants until you hear me call your name.  Understand?"

"Yes, sir," she gasped out.

"Drink your drink.  Go ahead."

Lisa drank the jigger of whiskey, coughing and wheezing some, and
chased it with the beer.  It would take the tension off.  I seized the
back of her neck with my hand and pulled her to me, kissing her hard
as my free hand slipped between her legs.  She offered no resistance,
spreading for me.  I unclipped the chain with the bell, then slipped a
finger into her.  A few strokes in and out and she was humping my
hand. I pulled away.

"Now, go be the bar girl."

She gulped and nodded.  She slipped out of the booth and straightened
her skirt. It was then she realized again every eye in the place was
on her.  She began to shake. As she walked away, I saw the huge wet
spot on the back of her skirt. I wondered if she was that lubricated
or she had peed on herself.

The little waitress Lisa replaced looked at me for instruction.

"Want to make an extra fifty?"

"Sure, honey.  What do you want?"

"Get under the table and suck me.  I am not going to cum but I want a
mouth around my cock."

"I don't get under the table for nobody," she said, her chin quivering
as she tried to dig deep for some pride and control over her body.

"Do it now or I will leave and tell every man in the place it is your
fault they did not get to fuck Lisa. What will they do to you?"

She turned pale and quickly glanced around at the crowd. She slipped
off the bench and under the table.  Her fingers were on my zipper.  In
a moment, I felt her mouth around my cock. 

"Nice work," the devil dog said. "Now, that is using power.  That
bitch really did not want to get under the table. I am proud of you."  

The scientist was quiet.

Lisa was delivering the first tray of drinks. The men were watching
her. She was trying to be unobtrusive, but she was sending off sexual
signals left and right. 

"Any interesting study, don't you think, Doc," Diablo said in a
conversational tone.

"Yes, definitely," the scientist replied.

It was interesting. Lisa wanted to be fucked so badly she was almost
out of control, yet she fought it. But, you could see her body
movements changing as she moved back and forth among the men. She
started bending over from the waist rather than kneeling, which stuck
her ass out invitingly. She bent over with her shoulders in a position
to make her breasts more visible. Her tone of voice became more
sensual. She was increasing the bait for the fish she was trying to
catch.

After about twenty minutes, The Tomahawk Lounge was eerily quiet as
the men sipped their drinks and watched her moving back and forth
between them.  Her eyes flicked back at me frequently.  I could not
tell if she was making sure I was still there for safety, or looking
for instructions. I gave no response.

There were twelve people in the lounge.  Lisa, me, the waitress who
was still under the table with my cock in her mouth, the bartender,
and eight other men.  As I watched them, I wondered who would make the
first move. They were talking among themselves in low tones, like
prisoners when the warden is watching.

Lisa was on the edge of tears just from the waiting.

The leader of the men appeared to be a Indian-Hispanic looking man
about fifty, with still coal black hair and dark eyes deep set in a
weathered face.  He was a raw boned man with giant shoulders and a
paunch but no other fat anywhere.  His hands were big and knarled as
if he had worked hard outdoors his entire life. He was sitting two
tables away, facing me.

Lisa stopped at the table to deliver drinks. I saw his hand move to
rest on her knee. She froze as her head popped up to look at me. I
could see both their faces and his hand. He moved it up her leg,
watching me for a reaction. Lisa stood as still as she could.

Again, his hand moved.  All the others were now watching this little
dance. The bartender kept looking back and forth between the Indian
and me, as if observing a tennis match. His hands were out of sight
behind the bar.  I wondered if he had a baseball bat or a shotgun back
there.

Again, the Indian's hand moved upward, now resting half on her
stocking tops and half on her bare thigh. Again, he waited to see if I
objected. I made no movement, gave no sign.

"Now, we are going to get some action." Diablo said.

"Yes.  Well worth the wait," the scientist agreed.

His hand disappeared under her skirt. Lisa was trembling badly now,
her face red, tears in her eyes. I wished I could have been in her
mind right then. She knew she was seconds away from having this
stranger's rough hand on her pussy, knew she was minutes away from
being taken by all these men.  She had to wonder if it would hurt, or
if I would lose control. Was she humiliated? Or, was she simply in
sexual heat, her desire so great any man, any hand was welcome? If she
wanted to get away, I saw no sign of it.

The Indian turned his wrist and Lisa grunted slightly and widened her
stance. Her lip begin to quiver. I watched her face. It was obvious
when he stuck a finger up her pussy. He did not move, sitting as still
as a statue. Lisa raised up on her toes a fraction and lowered herself
again. Then, again, she raised up, a little higher this time.

She was going to fuck herself on the huge finger up her.

"Lisa!"

She stopped.  I heard her whimper.

"Beg for it, slut.  Beg me to let you cum on his hand."

The Indian broke into a huge grin but no other part of him moved. The
others were perfectly still except for their eyes which flicked and
danced over the action. 

Lisa's pelvis tightened on his finger. She looked around the room at
all the men staring at her.

"Please, let me cum," she moaned.

"I think she needs to be undressed," I said to no one in particular. 

The youngest looking of the group quickly stood and moved to her. He
began unbuttoning her blouse as a older man approached her from
behind. The older one took a handful of her hair and pulled her head
back, arching her back and forcing her body down on the Indian's hand.
It thrust her breasts up into the young man's hands.  Her blouse was
open now. The began massaging her breasts as the man behind her bent
her further as he raped her mouth with his. The Indians's hand between
her legs was probably keeping her from falling over. 

The young man reached for the zipper on her skirt.  I heard it tear as
his patience expired. She was now naked except of her stockings and
heels. I could see the Indian's hand now. He had two fingers up her
slue and his hand was drenched to the wrist with her juices. 

He gave me a questioning look and I nodded affirmatively. 

The Indian stood, his hand between her legs never releasing its grip.
He unzipped his pants and pulled out a nice sized cock.  He pushed
Lisa across the table. I guess they thought she might resist because
the man across the table grabbed her arms and held her in place. The
Indian slammed into her with one hard thrust.  Lisa orgasmed with a
squeal.

Ever been to an gangrape, or an orgy?  This was not a gangrape really
because Lisa was enjoying every minute of it. They took turns and took
their time. Her blouse was used to keep her pussy wiped so the next
guy could get some friction. She was fucked in her mouth as well,
often taking two guys at a time. I won't describe it. Picture eight
guys with their cocks hanging out, waiting their turn with one woman.
I was surprised how orderly it was. Picture one woman orgasming over
and over, eagerly swallowing cum, happily getting fucked, enjoying
every minute of it until she was floating in a state of delirium some
where in the ozone.

I did not participate.  I stayed in my booth, sipping my soft drink
and watching, with the waitress's mouth wrapped around my cock.  She
complained once her jaw was getting tired. With my hand in her hair, I
yanked her straight up, banging her head on the underside of the
table. I heard a curse but she quit complaining. 

"Nice move," the scientist said when the woman's head thunked the
table.

"Yes, nice," Diablo echoed.

I started to keep track of Lisa's orgasms at first, but they were
going so quickly, I lost track.  Also, I was distracted by the
conversation in my head. Diablo and the scientist were arguing about
the use of power and whether what Lisa was enjoying qualified as such
a use.

She was on her back now, covered in cum from her knees to the top of
her head, her pussy a bloated mess in white.  She was exhausted and
dazed and so were they. No one had the energy to get up as I walked
over to her. I cleaned her off with a bar towel, threw her over my
shoulder like a sack of flour and carried her to the truck.

She did not speak on the way back to the motel, but she did groan
occasionally.

Mary opened the door for us.  I left her to help Lisa with her bath.
I crawled in bed next to Andy. She pushed her ass up against me but I
was not in the mood.

To be continued....

Please!  Give me your comments.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com






-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>