At least I didn't have to go back into the shed. In getting Tiny executed, I'd become too much the center of attention for that kind of obscurity.
As somebody cleaned the vomit off me in the bathroom, I could hear the big man's body being dragged from the house. I hoped they would at least bury him.
By the time I was led out of the bathroom, the gang had moved its deliberations into the main room of the hideout. There, I was shoved to a couch, and stuck between two male members.
Tiny's chillingly-voiced assassin, whom I now realized was the gang-leader, Chinga, spoke angrily to the others. "This is the second of our people to have to be wasted in less than twenty-four hours," he brought his followers up to date on the box-score of slaughter. "Let's face it, we're losing our discipline. Since we heisted this chick, we've been suffering more losses because of ourselves than we've ever taken from the cops."
"What should we do with the bitch?" somebody asked. "After all that trouble with Parker, she's all we have to show. What about the ransom for her we talked about?"
"We might be able to get some ransom out of her old man," Chinga replied, accurately adding, "but it probably wouldn't be worth the trouble. Parker was supposed to be our meal ticket, and the last time anyone saw him, he was dead."
"Not so fast," came a breathless female voice from the closing front door. "I was just getting the groceries out of the van and found this paper somebody bought and then was too illiterate to read."
There was a quiet hush, wrinkled only by the rustle of the newspaper being passed across the room. "Here, Chinga," the last link in the chain said to the leader.
The pause was deadly. Then it was shattered by the Lord's name being taken in venomous vain.
"Chinga, what's the matter?" several of the gang anxiously inquired.
"Read it yourself," he spat. Then I could hear him stomp away, obviously in disgust.
There was an audible scuffle for the paper. A voice I recognized as Grady's was the first to read it aloud.
"D-d-detective Survives Shoot Out," he stammered the text of the headline in awe. "Christ, Jack, I thought you said the bastard wasn't a magician. Goddamn it, Parker's still alive! He wasn't even seriously wounded."
"Is he coming after us?" I recognized Jack's voice through the strain which bent it.
"It says here he'll be laid up a few days, but he's already running the investigation from his hospital bed."
"Who does he blame?" somebody wanted to know from the rear of the room.
"Organized crime," Grady replied. "Parker says the mob is trying to take over the city."
"We're organized crime?" a woman blurted incredulously. "Look at us – we look like the Three Stooges in a house of mirrors. In the last day we haven't been able to stop killing each other."
"Shut up, Glenda," Chinga's piercing voice returned to dominate the discussion. "You shouldn't run off at the mouth about things you don't know from a hole in the ground."
"Who do you think you're kidding, Fearless Leader?" she surprisingly threw it back in his face. "We're just a rag-tag bunch of misfits who'll do anything for money."
"And where do you think the money usually comes from when the job is especially dirty?" he sardonically asked. "The Council of Churches?"
"You mean," Glenda seethed with mutinous outrage, "that we've been doing contract work for the syndicate? That we've been arsonists and hit men and kidnappers for the mob? The same outfit that puts dope in the arms of ten-year-olds?"
"Check, double-check, and triple-check," Chinga replied with a slow drawl. He had dramatically changed his style now that the bottom-line had been established. He was meeting this challenge to his authority with cool. There was no doubt about it, the man had flair.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Glenda wailed. "You were supposed to be our leader!"
"They'd kill me," he responded with ironic smugness. "In fact, they'd kill us all. Once you're in with those guys, you can't retire – except involuntarily."
"But we didn't know anything about it…" someone protested.
"You do now," Chinga reminded huh. "Besides, that makes no difference to them anyway. Once you're on the inside they don't care how you got there."
"How did you get involved in the first place?" Glenda pertinently asked.
"We needed dough," Chinga took them into the past. "As you'll remember the muggings and purse-snatchings weren't bringing in enough. When this guy I met in a bar offered the deal to burn down that laundry, the dollar signs were all I looked at. And, as I recall, none of you had any complaints about our change in fortune."
"When did you find out?" the guy sitting to my left asked.
"When I tried to turn down the first murder they wanted us to do," Chinga answered, "I said it was too heavy for us – they said it would be heavier for us not to. When I didn't dig what the guy was getting at, he started raving at me in Sicilian. Then he said in English: 'Now do you get my meaning?'"
"The mob," several people gasped the obvious in unison. They sounded trapped.
"I never asked him any more questions after that," Chinga continued. "From then on, any job he offered, I accepted for us. Since you were all so busy enjoying the money, I didn't want to bug you with the details."
"How did the Parker kidnapping come about?" Glenda asked in a much more sympathetic voice now that Chinga had partially exonerated himself for leading his pack of petty thieves into the deep waters of crime.
"Simple," Chinga said. "They offered big money for a simple snatch. We were just supposed to deliver him to their people, and our hands would be clean. With the kind of dough they shoved in my face I knew it was something very big to them. Believe me, the worst thing we could've done was to fuck it up the way we did."
"And now to top it off, we're stuck with this fucking dame," some hothead reminded everyone of my presence. "As if it wasn't bad enough the mob will be after us, she's got us killing each other."
"Hey, cool it," Chinga brought all the grumbling to a halt, proving he was still the leader. "Emma and Tiny had to go. They disobeyed our rules. Tell me this – if we couldn't trust them with this chick, could we trust them with our lives?"
The last was a rhetorical question. Nobody had the nerve to interrupt him now anyway, he was so cranked up.
"Of course we couldn't," he answered himself. "On the other hand – I'm willing to agree that now we're all hip to the problem, there's no rule against changing an old rule."
He was beginning to sound like a politician. I guess you had to have the same capacity for bullshit to rise in the underworld as you did in the straight world.
"You're talking about the woman," somebody said.
"I'm talking about the woman," Chinga affirmed.
I knew all eyes were on me. I felt like I was on the meat rack. Sweat, seemed to pop from every pore in my body, I was so tense.
"What are you gonna do with her?" Glenda wanted to know.
"We're going to divide her up equally," Chinga sent a chill to my heart with his reply. "If this bitch is going to fuck around with our solidarity, then we'll have to retaliate as a group. Give her back what she gave our comrades – and then roll over her with it. Nobody doing anything to her behind anybody's back because we'll all be doing it to her at once."
I was freaking out. Christ, why all this torturous verbiage. Why didn't he just come out and say what they were going to do to me.
I knew. Chinga knew. Every body in the place knew what my fate was going to be.
"We're gonna gang-bang her," Chinga finally heralded the obvious in a raw slur.
To my horror, the small crowd actually cheered. This was turning barbaric. I had never felt so defiled.
"Then after we've fucked and sucked the shit out of her, so we know she'll behave," Chinga rapidly continued, while he still had their attention, "we'll play Let's Make a Deal. Only I'm Monty Hall and our lieutenant pal, Parker, is dressed up like a turkey."
He was a sharpie. I would have thought there would be a stampede when he sanctioned my gang-bang, but somehow Chinga kept them under control. He always had them guessing what he would do next. Even though he'd just ordered me raped, I couldn't help but be impressed by the force of his charisma.
"My plan is really very simple," he stalled the gang-rape to clue them in on his masterminding. "We get word to Parker that we're willing to trade this broad for none other than himself. To help him make up his mind, we threaten to go to the newspapers with the whole story of how we kidnapped the wrong person. They'll make it seem she never would have been kidnapped if it hadn't been for all the enemies Parker's made. That he's responsible in a way for what happened to her. He's got a moral obligation, and all that bullshit. Once the public reads that they'll never vote for the bastard for anything. If Parker is serious about being elected D.A., he'll agree to the switch and take his chances with us instead of the voters. Then we turn him over to the mob – as our end of the contract – and everything's cool."
It was a thrilling scenario. In fact, I became so involved with it that, blindfolded, I imagined I was seeing it on a screen. As victim and audience, I was a passive spectator at the unreeling of my fate as though I were watching it in a fast-paced B-movie.
However, it was only a matter of time before the film of my life became X-rated. Now that he had dazzled them with his latest scheme, Chinga felt free to turn his animals loose on me.
"Okay, troops, you can fall out," was how he coyly put it. Then he nastily added: "And nobody bite off more than they can chew."
Suddenly I had the grotesque fantasy of being chewed to death by their gnashing mouths and sucking pussies. I could see myself going under in a pile of gobbling orifices.
Then, the fantasy started to assume the dimensions of reality. The two people on either side of me leaned over and started attacking my tits with their rough tongues. Below, somebody had crawled between my legs, forced my thighs apart, and was sucking my cunt. Seconds later someone was doing the same to my asshole.
"Mmmmm, her pussy's still wet with Tiny's cum," a voice I recognized as Glenda's informed the others from my crotch.
"So is her ass!" the male tonguer from down there spat with disgust. "If I'd known I was going to get a mouthful of a dead man's stale cum I'd have let another chick go first along with Glenda."
"Oh, Tex, you're such a chauvinist," Glenda giggled in my box. "If cum tastes good for women, why shouldn't it taste good for men?"
"Because it's unnatural for man to drink of himself – I think that's a quote from the Bible," he defensively replied.
"So I suppose you're going to do something natural to her – like fucking her in the ass with your ten-inch prick."
"Right on!" he whooped, and suddenly I was pronged. He'd apparently been working his cock into position for penetration while he'd been talking to Glenda. Coming up at me from the floor, his loins powered his rigid cock straight up my asshole. It went two or three inches before it skidded to a temporary halt.
I hadn't spoken since I had puked. Now – I didn't speak, either – I screamed. The sound yowled from me like I was a cat being boiled alive.
There wasn't an ounce of natural lubrication up my ass. To make it worse, Tiny's leftover cum had started to harden. With a thick cock plugged up my butt, the nuggets of congealed jism started to resemble gravel against my tender rectal lining. If he really had a ten-inch cock the fun was just starting.
"God, Tex, you pig," Glenda sputtered from my cunt. "I can feel your big, greedy dick all the way inside her pussy. You're practically crowding me out."
"Shut up and keep sucking," he replied. "Your tongue feels good against the head of my cock through that thin wall."
"Well, if you put it that way!" she laughed, and then went back to work. Soon her stiff tongue was filling my cunt as far as Tex was engorging my asshole with his prick.
Of course, she had reached her maximum, while he still had a long way to go. I guessed that Tex had about six inches remaining on his dick, and that I was going to have to sit on every one of them.
In the meantime, others had joined the feast of my naked body. Most particularly, as Tex reached the halfway point with his phallic insertion of my bunghole, somebody with a very big cock stuffed it down my throat.
Suddenly, just to breathe, I had to orally convulse enough to fuck him with my mouth. Unable to stop gagging, I could feel the friction taking hold that would eventually fill my belly with hot cum.
By now they were overlooking no useful part of me to satisfy their carnal desires. A hard-on materialized in each hand – I didn't know whether they belonged to the two guys sucking my tits, or somebody new in the pile.
Down below, Tex had made continuing progress in my ass during the interval of my attention to other violations of my body. When my focus was wrenched back, he had painfully reached my bowels with the swiveling end of his cock. I felt like I was being roto rootered.
The hilt wasn't far away. He made another thrust and he had it. His hairy balls scratched against the outer petals of my anal rosebud because all the cock in front of them was being squeezed by ass.
Then, just when I thought nothing could be as painful, something was. Suddenly, in a flash of pain, my awareness was transferred from my ass to my respiratory system.
The guy fucking my mouth had started to kill me with his jack-hammering cock. Literally kill me. I hadn't breathed in so long I was certain I was turning blue. His cock was down my throat so far my teeth were tangled with his pubic hairs.
Abruptly, my senses wheeled back to my ass. Tex was pistoning away in it now, making his tool white-hot with the furious action. On the verge of coming, he was tearing my butt to pieces.
Boom, my attention returned to my distended gullet. The hard-on pumping away in it was getting ready to come, too.
I started to ride a sensory pendulum back and forth between my mouth and ass. The cocks fucking each of them competed for my attention like two boys showing off in a schoolyard. Only these were cruel boys – the kind who tear wings off flies.
Or fuck helpless women in the ass and mouth with human telephone poles.
Ass-mouth – ass-mouth, I wildly switched my focus back and forth. I couldn't help but wonder which one would come first. It was nuts, but the foolish competition had hooked me as an avid spectator.
Ass.
Mouth.
Ass.
Mouth.
Mmmmmmm, a cock in each. Getting fucked in the ass and mouth at once by two big, thick cocks.
They were both in me all the way. Both big, strong cocks. Cocks!
It had turned from terrible to wonderful. For his final strokes up my ass, I was providing Tex's cock with some natural lubrication. My anus was suddenly gooey with arousal. In my mouth, I was manufacturing so much gooey spit that my throat was wetter than a cunt.
Sucking.
Fucking.
Suddenly the contest was over. It was a dead heat. Both cocks came at once! Sperm was shooting up my ass pouring down my throat.
"Oh, look, they've both come all over her!" somebody yelled. "It's gushing out of her ass like Tex's cock ruptured a valve in there." They all agreed I was a mess.
I just tuned them all out. Right now all I cared about was what I felt inside.
And that was ecstasy. Sheer ecstasy. It was a unique sensation I couldn't help but savor.
Then both pricks softened and pulled out of me. Glenda dropped her tongue to my asshole and lapped up the goo leaking out. Above, I took care of every drop of the other cock's ejaculation with my own hunger for cum.
Then, long forgotten, the two dicks I'd been automatically masturbating seized my attention. Coming, too, they splattered my body with a rich coating of creamy spunk.
A canopy of mouth fell on my torso to lick it off. My belly and tits felt rubbed raw from so many rough tongues.
When all the sperm was gone, signaling the completion of the first wave of the assault, new bodies took the places of the old. The only holdover from before was Glenda – sitting on my mouth with her wide-open pussy and urging me to fuck her with my tongue. I did.
The newcomers were doing such things as plugging my cunt with a bologna-sized cock and stuffing a fist up my ass. Some dude had hid his thick tool between my tits and then squeezed them together. Now he was fucking them.
It didn't take long for even my arm pits to become attractive cock-receptacles. Two guys approached me from either side, clamped my arms down, and slipped their long pricks into the twin cleavages of rib and bicep.
In one hand a flowing muff had ensnarled my fingers with its curling tendrils. It was soggier than I thought a cunt could get. The clitoris was so supercharged, it felt like I was pushing the wrong end of a nail.
The other hand grasped a by-now standard model cock. Thick. At least ten inches long. Typical for this crowd.
The only place left was my navel. Yes, I'm not kidding, my Goddamn belly button.
Some guy had placed the head of his dick in my abdominal dimple. He got it so deep that, when he was really pressing, I could feel the flange at the rear of the three-inch phallic crown.
Now that all my possibilities were fully covered, it was time to start really rolling. I'd already lost count of the sex organs of others I was servicing – in such chaos the only sensible thing to do was relax and enjoy one's mass rape.
The great thing of having Glenda's twat in my mouth, rather than a cock down my throat, was that I could talk if I wanted to. That meant I could call instructions down to my abductors – telling them just where and how I wanted it. They always cooperated.
"Jam your knuckles tighter in my ass," I would urge. "Shove that cock into my womb."
Or: "Rub my titties raw with that smoking prick."
And on, and on, and on. I was getting ripped apart in every direction and loving it.
Inside I was coming like crazy. Not only had I proved I could come with either men or women, now I was spectacularly getting my rocks off with a whole group of them at once. I knew it was degrading to be the plug hoard in gang sex, but I felt blessed.
The more cock I got up my pussy, the more I wanted. Same with the bruising knuckles in my asshole.
I prayed my sensitive tits would bleed from too much phallic scraping. My armpits were mentally projected for a similar fate.
My tongue was up Glenda's gaping twat to the root. The tip could tickle parts within her so sensitively I treated myself to an oral lesson in vaginal anatomy.
My hands did the most they could for the genitalia at their command. I was fist-fucking the pussy now, jacking off the cock with piston-like strokes.
We were going to town. Ripping it up. There was no need any more for me to croak instructions. We had the act down perfect.
We were God knows how many people, fucking and sucking and jerking and feeling in perfect synchronization. We were a miracle – a perpetual motion machine of sex.
I felt orgasm everywhere. My whole body was an erogenous zone – every cell as sensitive as the juiciest depths of my cunt. It seemed as though my entire being were constructed of pussy tissue.
It was the Fourth of July, Christmas, New Year's Eve, and World War III all rolled into one. I was going out of my mind with sexual excitement.
Where was the cum? There was no cum yet.
I wanted cum. Lots and lots of hot, rich cum.
"Come in me, you bastards!" I temporarily broke my seal with Glenda's snatch to cry. "Drown me with your cum!"
Then it was back to eating pussy and waiting – waiting for cum.
"Oooooomph!" the guy in my pussy said. His prick was erupting in my fuck-hole. I was really getting it now.
The fist in my ass didn't have access to any testicles, but its owner's cock did. He'd been jacking off with one hand while he'd been anally fist-fucking me with the other.
Now he came all over my butt. The goo slid into my crack and glazed the outer rim of my asshole. I loved it.
On my face, Glenda was pouring pussy juice down my throat. Suddenly it was joined by the spurting of the cock that had been fucking my tits.
On a full thrust, its head was only inches from my chin. I was getting drenched.
Making just enough space between the lips of my mouth and Glenda's labia, I sucked up the jizz. When I had it all, I shared it with my facial lover's hungry pussy.
The cock in my hand went off. I caught the cream with my fingers and transferred it over to the cunt I was fist-fucking on the other side. Now somebody else's twat was dripping with spunk.
My left armpit was suddenly squishing with cum – so was my right.
Then my navel was a miniature lagoon of hot stickiness. The excess from the spurting cock there was spewing dawn my belly and turning the crinkly forest of my pubic hair into a quagmire. I felt like I'd sat in honey.
Everybody was coming. The air around us was humid with the spray of male and female cum. I thought of it as a shining halo.
As masterpiece of erotic symmetry had been achieved. All of us had climbed the peak. But we remained there only a short while. Pretty soon, things started to get sloppy.
There was so much juice we were slipping and sliding like combatants in a mud-fight. All traction was lost as we slid around like raw egg yolks in a bowl.
We slipped off the couch like we were going over a waterfall. On the floor, we prowled all over each other's bodies looking for meat.
Now everybody was doing everything to everybody. We were just a free-form mass of mindless fucking and sucking. Every cock seemed bigger than the last, every pussy sweeter than its predecessor.
It was an advantage that I was blindfolded. Limited by the confines of vision, I'd have missed out on seeing so much. This way, in the panorama of my tireless imagination, imagery provided me with a full view of every act in the room.
Every cock in an ass. And, of course, every one fucking a pussy.
Prick spurting in mouths. Beautiful girls drinking the turn, their bobbing tits speckled by somebody else's jizz.
I was so delirious with joy I didn't know which cocks and pussies were servicing me, and which were making it with other people. Stripped of my individuality by the power of raw sex, I felt like the integral part of an enormous, single organism. An organism that seemed to thrive, cannibalistically, on its own fluid. The fluid from its collection of constantly erupting loins.
Every time somebody came again, it just seemed to spur on the rest of us. We were junkies for our own sauce.
Who knows how long we went at it. Blindfolded, I had no idea of when we started and when we finally collapsed in a soggy mountain of human flesh.
Of course, the mundane concept of earthly time was the last thing concerning me as I slipped into an orgasmic sleep. Encapsulated in the afterglow of fucking, I was soaring through infinity.