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Archive name: My Girl (m/f, gang, rape)
Authors name: Spoonbender (spoonbender@hotmail.com)
Story Title : The Girlfriend 

 ******************************************************
(c) 1997 Spoonbender. A short story of an adult nature.
 Not to be read by minors. If you don't like stories
 where young ladies are taken advantage of or you are
 underage then don't read it. Contains descriptions of
 non consensual sex and bondage. Can be freely distri-
 buted as long as it is not changed, including this
 heading. If it is to archived on a fee paying archive
 then please email me first for permission.  Please
 email me with comments, constructive criticism, fan-
 tasies you want put into words etc. Don't flame me if
 you don't like the content or you don't like my style.
 spoonbender@hotmail.com 
 ****************************************************** 

 I'm not what you'd call a genius. Truth is I'm kinda
 dumb, I have trouble sussing out things that other
 people find easy. Its not that I don't wanna think,
 its just that it hurts. People laugh when I say that,
 but its true. Anyway I can't see why I should make my
 head hurt if I have someone to think for me. Like my
 girlfiend. 

 Shula her name is. Really small she is, 'bout five feet
 and a bit I guess. I can't really tell the size of wo-
 men. They all look small to me. I'm well over 6 feet
 tall and I weigh 250 pounds or something, they did
 tell me exactly but I've forgotten. It don't seem
 important.

 I kinda tower over other men.   Makes them afraid.
 Makes me afraid too. I hit a guy once, only once,
 killed him I did. Did a five year stretch for homicide.
 All I was trying to do was protect my girl. He threw
 the first punch. The first few really, after a few I
 just kinda lost my cool. I didn't wanna hurt him, not
 really badly. Definately not kill him. The judge kinda
 took my side, leastways my Lawyers said so. They sent
 me for reports, spending weeks with shrinks telling me
 I was 'Educationally sub normal'. Kinda lawyerspeak
 for dumb I guess.  Didn't get me off though, 'cause
 they reckoned I was a danger to society so they locked
 me up. My girlfriend married another guy. 

 I came out, worked in a lumberyard. I kinda liked it,
 outside all the time, good air, like doing weightrain-
 ing and getting paid for it. Set myself up in a motel
 near the Interstate. Not a glamorous place but I liked
 it, somewhere to call home and where the maid put my
 bed together everyday.  

 I met Shula at Country and Western bar out in Longan
 County. She was the waitress at my table and we kinda
 hit it off straight away. First thing I noticed she
 was really clever. And really purty, all slim and all,
 with kinda bouncy curly hair. She could read a really
 classy newspaper and understand it. She could even
 explain bits of it to me.

 She told me I was cute. No-one ever told me that
 before. My mother had told me I was a son of a bitch,
 I never worked that out 'cause that musta made her a
 bitch.   Anyway she never called me cute. 

 Shula moved in with me, but didn't like my room. When
 she told me this I didn't like it either. She organised
 a mobile home. It was a huge thing called a Winnebagel
 or something like that. Really old it was. Sorta
 scarred inside, bits coming away and all. I spent a
 long time fixing it up, making it good.   Shula made
 curtains and stuff, making a nest she called it. We
 moved in and we sorta parked up near the lumberyard.
 It was all pretty good for a while. Then this big
 company back east they came and bought the yard. I
 remember them coming in their fancy cars, looking
 kinda worried that the mud would never come off their
 fancy shoes. They closed the yard, laid us off. I had
 $500 as a payoff. 

 So we moved. It was really good having a home that
 travelled. We moved on looking for work. I did all
 sorts of stuff. Roadhouse bouncer, Lumberjack, Stone-
 breaker in a quarry. All heavy work, all good work.
 I never got rich but, with Shula looking after me, I
 was happy. Then we ran out of money. We were looking
 for work and the engine went wrong. The clutch or
 something. Anyway it wouldn't move far and we couldn't
 afford to fix it properly. They told me it would be
 $400 to fix it and we had about $80 at that time. We
 were stuck in this city, somewhere in the mid west,
 I can't remember now.   There was no work, the local
 mine had closed. Things kinda looked bad. 

 I didn't wanna break the law. I didn't like jail. I
 like working outside. Walls frightened me. Funny huh?
 Me frightened, its true though. Walls make me scared.
 So I couldn't hold up a liquor store or nothing. Didn't
 want to anyway, cause I might hurt someone. I don't
 wanna hurt no-one. 

 Shula had an idea. She was good at ideas. She said we
 could sell sex. Everyone wanted sex. I didn't like the
 idea, I didn't wanna share her. She laughed when I told
 her. She said she'd just be selling sex, not doing it.
 She'd be the bait and someone else'd do the work. I
 tried to work that one out. It hurt so I left it to
 her. 

 We had parked up in this truckstop. Full of guys in
 checked shirts and overalls, my kinda people.   Near
 the highway it was, a bad part of town they reckoned.
 So one day Shula gets us to go uptown to the nice
 area. She told me what I was to do. I didn't like it
 but I trusted her. She had the brains. 

 We saw this executive type in some sporty car. I remem-
 ber it was red, classy looking. She was dressed like a
 businessman, but in a skirt. Like it was a suit or
 something, white shirt and stuff. Like those guys that
 closed the lumberyard down, but a woman. Shula had
 some sorta drug she poured on a rag which she held to
 this womans nose while I held her. We were good, she
 never saw us. I noticed that she was about the same
 height as Shula, but with blond hair. 

 We took her back to our camper where Shula prepared
 her. She shucked off her clothes and we tied her down
 with her legs and arms spread like a star. Shula put
 this mask thing over her eyes and mouth so we couldn't
 see her head. She tucked her hair inside. Then Shula
 asked if she looked like her. I suppose she did 'cept
 the hairs between her legs was the wrong colour. So
 Shula shaved her, with my razor, the darned thing cut
 me everyday after that. 

 Then she told me that we were going into the truckstop.
 Told me what to say and everything. I can't remember it
 all now. Just some stuff about my girlfriend having a
 fantasy about being a sexslave, being forced to fuck
 for money and would these guys like to have a poke at
 her for $20 a time. Shula stood close to the door
 smiling as I talked to the truckers. She was in her
 leather miniskirt and a sparkly top.  She looked real
 sexy. Thirty or so guys said 'alright lets go'. So we
 walked back to the camper and I went with Shula into
 the bedroom.

 She'd told me to tell the guys to wait a couple of
 minutes while I prepared her. She had put a vibrator
 into the woman on the bed  'fore we went in the truck-
 stop, and so she was really wet. So Shula took it out
 and climbed into this storage box that we'd fitted
 with cushions and stuff. I closed the lid and put some
 clothes and stuff on top. 

 I then took the money.  

 We made $700 that first day. Which fixed the camper.
 Shula put some more of the drug on the rag and we put
 the woman back where we found her in the seat of her
 classy car. I remember a big wet stain on the back of
 her skirt as I heaved her back in. Maybe we shoulda
 got some rubbers. Shula said it was a waste of money.
 
 We travelled around after this. Doing the same thing.
 Made a lot of money too. At least $500 a night, once
 we even made $1000. Mostly they was purty girls, rich
 mainly, Shula seemed to like rich ones.   Some were
 ugly. Didn't matter that some of them were ugly, long
 as they had a nice slim body, like Shula's. We kept
 their heads covered, so the guys all thought they was
 fucking my girl. I used to laugh sometimes.  It was so
 funny. My girl was so smart.  

 Sometimes I got worried we was hurting the women,
 'cause some of them didn't look too happy struggling
 and all as they was fucked, but Shula used to laugh.
 I kinda liked her laugh. She said that most women had
 a thing about being tied up and used so we was pro-
 bably doing the bitches a favour.   It musta done I
 suppose 'cause we seldom heard anything on he radio
 and we was always careful not to let the women see our
 faces or know where they'd been taken. I 'spose nobody
 kinda connected the two things as we always took 'em
 from the nice part of town and they was fucked in
 trailer parks and truckstops. We'd always put 'em
 back where we found them after. 

 Sometimes we'd work the vagrants. I kinda liked them.
 It weren't their fault they was there. They were smelly
 though. Gee whiz they were disgusting. Shula liked
 these guys or she seemed to 'cause we put our prices
 down for 'em, usually $10 a go. Once we only charged
 five bucks a time. These guys seemed to 'preciate it.
 There never was a shortage of 'em anyway. Kept the
 girl kinda busy I guess. 

 We was doing that one day when we was in New York. We
 got this really purty dark haired girl. She kicked and
 screamed before we got her unconscious and she started
 up again, you know wrigglin and stuff, every time a
 man started to fuck her. She quietened down eventually
 though, must have been tuckered out with all that
 fucking. We musta made about $200 then these guys
 turned up. Mean sons of bitches. It ended up with this
 really big fight. I kinda enjoyed it once I got into
 it. There were too many of these guys though, cause
 you can't rely on vagrants in a fight, and they hit
 me with an iron bar and really kicked me hard. They
 found Shula and dragged her away. One of them crouched
 down by me, as I lay there bleeding, and told me that
 my bitch was now gonna pay off the fact that we'd
 kidnapped the niece of some mobster. He told me that
 she was gonna be tied to a cot and be made to fuck
 over 100 Niggers a day. Every day. For a buck a pop. 

 I was in hospital for two months. I had burst something
 or other inside me and I nearly died. My camper had
 been wrecked and I'd lost my money. I wasn't even sure
 where I was. I wanted to find my girl again but I
 needed money so I held up a gas station and I got
 caught.

 Which is why I'm here in county jail. 

 I still don't like walls but I'm getting used to them.
 I get out in three years then I'm gonna find my girl
 again and we're gonna settle down. So if you hear of
 her let me know. 

 I wonder if she enjoys being tied down and used, like
 the other girls did? 
 
 spoonbender@hotmail.com