"Goddamn it to Hell!" I screamed in frustration, thumping my hand on the steering wheel.
Of all the fucked-up places for the car to get temperamental, this had to be the pits! It was very late in the afternoon, I'd crossed the line into West Virginia a couple of hours ago, and apparently I had taken the wrong turn somewhere. I was deep in some wooded mountains, and only the bumpy pavement of the road itself convinced me that I wasn't the first soul who had ever wandered into this particular piece of country. It had been an eternity since I'd seen another car or human being or even a stray dog.
And now the car was malfunctioning. Oh, damn it all! I thought, getting out to investigate.
I'd left Angela's in a huff and a hurry, not even bothering to change out of the clothes I'd worn for my interview. A gas stop allowed me to get out of the sweater and skirt and the damned confining underwear, though, so at least I was comfortable in a sleeveless top and blue jeans.
I had a jackknife in my bag, and I did a little exploring under the hood, and that was when frustration really began. Oh, shit! I knew when I left Boston that my carburetor was on its last legs. Why hadn't I taken care of it then? Why had I trusted so blindly in luck?
And then there was a sound, and my heart almost stopped. Oh, God, it was an automobile engine! I looked in both directions, trying to localize the noise, and all I could see ahead of me or behind me was the empty narrow road, yellow dividing line faded almost to invisibility. My ears perked. They were coming up the ascent, definitely, the same way I'd been traveling, for I could hear the engine straining to pull. I blinked, and in a moment I saw a pickup truck come around the bend a few hundred yards below. I breathed a sigh of relief and waved one despairing hand.
The truck pulled off the road and stopped, just below my car. The doors opened on each side, and two youngish men stepped out. From their looks they had to be brothers, rangy hillbilly types with unkempt hair and pinched, sharp-featured faces.
"Havin' trouble?" asked the one who'd been driving.
He was tall and husky, wearing a T-shirt and overalls. His hair was dun-colored and, in spite of my gratitude I couldn't help thinking that he resembled a rat, facially. There was a blue-green Marine Corps tattoo on one of his wiry shoulders.
"Yes," I said, "It's my carburetor." I sighed.
"Do you think you could give me a lift to the nearest telephone, so I can call a tow truck?"
"Lemme take a look," he offered, brushing past me. It seemed that he took particular care to let his shoulder scrape my tits, and I didn't especially like it.
He peered under the hood for a few minutes, then looked out. "It's your carburetor."
"Yes, I know. Could you possibly give me a ride to the nearest gas station or phone booth, even? I'll be glad to pay you for the trouble."
"You talk funny," the other one said, coming closer. He appeared to be in his early twenties, while the other looked as if he were about my age. Well, they sounded a little hilarious to me, too, with their nasal Appalachian drawls, but I wasn't a speech therapist so I didn't bring up the matter. "Where you from?"
"Massachusetts," I replied, indicating the Bay State tags on the car. I didn't feel like chit-chatting at the moment.
"They sure growin' 'em pretty up in Massachusetts," the older one winked, coming back to where I stood.
I felt as if they were trying to surround me, and I stepped back. Both of them moved, too – it was like a fucking dance – and I had a closer look at the Marine tattoo. It was subscribed SAIGON 1970. Obviously, the older brother had been at war while Angela and I were protesting it at home. Angela. Oh, damn Angela!
"Damn straight," agreed the younger one. He winked at his brother. "Built like a brick…"
"Shithouse." The tattooed man hadn't taken his eyes off my tits for a second, I was suddenly, sickeningly, aware. I looked at their faces and saw, strongest in the eyes, a reptilian kind of craving that made my skin crawl.
"Forget it, okay?" I told them, turning half away. "You just hop back into your truck and be on your way, and I'll wait for somebody else to come along."
"Come on, now, honey. Don't take no offense."
"Don't call me honey, Goddamn it!" and I stepped back, defensively folding my arms across my tits.
The tattooed one grinned. "No harm meant, and I'm sure ain't none taken. Now, why don't we just push your car to where it's good and safe? You got two wheels on the road, and ole road ain't none too wide as it is."
I looked, and he was right. The road was narrow here, with a high, wooded bluff on the far side and, on this, a steep drop-off maybe ten feet from the edge of pavement. I hadn't had quite enough momentum to get completely off the paved part when the engine died.
So before I could offer any other suggestions, the two of them were hopping into position. The younger one poised at the back end of my car, while his tattooed brother reached inside to let off the emergency. "Got her?" he called, and his brother grunted. "Okay, let's go!" With a whoosh and a straining of muscles, they began to shove, and my car started rolling.
"There," I said, "that's good – what in the Hell??"
The car rolled off the road, onto the gravel berm, right to the edge and that steep drop-off into the wooded hollow below. My heart pulsated with concern. Couldn't they see? I ran towards them.
"Wait! Stop! Goddamn it to shit, stop!!"
They weren't listening. My car kept rolling. "Heyyyy!!" the tattooed one yelped, jumping back. The front wheels went over the edge of the cliff. From the rear, his brother gave a hard push and the entire car went over, clattering down the hillside. My eyes bulged but I couldn't see anything. I only heard a thumping and bumping, the sound of metal crashing against trees and through underbrush.
"Sorry," said the tattooed man, turning to me with an evil smile. "Guess we just don't know our own strength."
I ran to the edge of the drop-off and looked down. My car was fifty or sixty feet down the hillside, nose rammed against a huge oak tree, front end smashed to hell.
"Look at that, damn you!! Look what you've done to my car!!"
A momentary flash of vertigo twittered in my belly and I stepped back from the cliff, right into the arms of one of the men.
He locked his hands around my midsection and jerked me back. "LET GO OF ME!" I screamed, fists flailing the air. He kept pulling, and my heels dragged through the dirt and gravel. I couldn't bend my hands back far enough to hit him where it counted.
"Got a real live one," his brother commented. "Lookit her kickin'!"
"Ain't nothin' to worry about," my captor purred into my ear. "You be nice to us, and we'll be extra nice to you."
The tattooed one was holding me. His body was rank from stale sweat, and the noxious aroma infiltrated my nostrils, weakening me for a telltale instant. During that instant, the younger brother grabbed my feet. I lashed out, but too late, and now they had me. Like a sack of potatoes I was carried down the slope toward their pickup truck.
"Lookit them titties wiggle," the younger one said. He caught both feet in one arm for a moment and reached in to squeeze my breasts. I screamed, and I writhed, but I couldn't stop him from touching me.
"She ain't even wearing a brassiere," he added delightedly. "Feel them jugs!"
His brother took the invitation, hands coming up to fondle my tits. "Big ones, too," he grinned. "But real firm!"
"You take her tits. I got my eye on this…" and the other one punched me between the legs with his thumb. He dug at the tight crotch of my jeans, and again I squirmed in helpless fury, unable to prevent this degradation of my body.
"Let go of me!" I moaned.
"Goddamn, step on it, Luke!" the younger one hollered. "Or ain't neither of us gonna get nothin'. And if I don't get my dick wet, I'm gonna cut the damn thing off. Hooo-eeeeeee!"
Let me cut it off for you, I wanted to say, but I was afraid. They were madmen. They'd pushed my car over the Goddamned hill, they'd grabbed me, they were handling my body, talking about… My God, they were talking about fucking me! "NO!!" I yelled, struggling again, but by then we were at the pickup truck, and they tossed me unceremoniously onto the flat bed, as if I were a sack of feed being loaded. The bed was hard, and the fall almost knocked me unconscious. When I shook my head and looked up, Luke, the tattooed brother, had joined me on the truck bed and his hands were inescapably near.
I had nothing with which to defend myself. Sure, my knife was in my bag, but my bag was lying on the ground. It might as well have been on the moon. Fingernails? I was too liberated to wear my nails long and pointed.
He grabbed my tits and his fingers dug into my flesh. I was braless underneath the thin top and there was nothing to stop him from testing the firmness and shape of my breasts. His fingers pulled at the top's straps. I heard it rip and then I was completely bare-breasted, my tits heaving in desperation.
His eyes gleamed approval and he reached for my quivering boobs, but before he could lay hands on them again, I leaped up and tried to jump over the side of the truck. The younger brother was there, anticipating.
"Not yet, honey," he grinned. "Luke gets first because he's the oldest. But just hang on. I'll be comin' in for my turn pretty soon."
I hung suspended over the edge of the truck, hair fallen into my face, blinding me for a second. Something wet attacked my nipples. It was his mouth! I felt nausea, a gorge in the pit of my stomach, and then something worse. From behind, Luke was dragging down my blue jeans.
"She don't wear pants either, Randy," he called as the retreating denim laid my ass bare. One of his fingers jabbed into the space between my legs, and he pawed the lips of my cunt.
"Aaaaggghhhhhhh!!" I screamed in impotent fury. The rounded edge of the truck's bedside was hot against my stomach. Randy was busy on my tits, his strong arms keeping me in place while he sucked and bit my nipples, and behind me, Luke was finishing the process of stripping me. He jerked my jeans down to my quivering ankles, then put both hands on the cheeks of my ass, kneading my butt as if it were dough.
"Big soft ass," he said appreciatively. "You oughta see it, Randy. It's pink and round, looks good enough to eat."
Again he used his fingers between my legs, sliding them across the crease of my slit. I wriggled and twisted in my futile resistance, but I couldn't stop him. One finger poked at the mouth of my cunt, then slithered in, ramming deeply, and it was as if I were being torn apart.
"Goddamn, is she ever tight! Feels like her cunt ain't hardly been used at all."
"Please," I groaned in dismay, "please! Do you want money? I'll give you money. But don't – for the love of God, don't!"
"Sit still," he commanded. "You're gonna enjoy the fuck out of this. Damn, I know I am!"
He leaned up against me, rubbing my ass with the front of his jeans, and I could feel inside them, very hard, the erection of his cock. My heart sank into helpless despair.
"Oh, God, no!" I sobbed. "Anything but that!"
"Relax, Sister," he told me. "Ain't no way you can stop me from a fuck when I've got my horn up."
I closed my eyes. He was right. There was no way I could stop them. Not if they were determined to fuck me! They were too strong, and they'd already taken me by surprise. I heard him unzipping his pants and I shivered in dread.
"Ever feel a dick as big as this one, honey bunny?" he cooed, and the bare flesh of his cock touched me.
He used the tip of his cock like a finger on the uplifted swell of my buttocks, and it was a shivery, tingly sensation. I trembled like a buzzing vibrator.
"Reach back here, give my cock a feel," Luke invited, and he pulled my hand around.
He laid his prick on my palm, then closed my fingers on it. God, the slimy, crawly feelings that pulsated through my body then! I moaned.
"Damn right, bitch," he said, evidently mistaking my moan for a cry of pleasure. "It's about the biggest and best cock around. Bet you can't wait to get this ole pussy-choker into your tight little cunt, now, can you?"
He let go of my hand, and my fingers unlaced from around his cock, but it didn't matter. Not now! Luke jammed his knee between my legs, forcing them apart, and I could feel a little flutter of spring wind on the exposed puff of my pussy. Oh, God, he was looking at my most private possession, feasting upon it with his lustful eyes, anticipating the moment when he would violate my cunt with his with his cock! The very thought of getting fucked by Luke's tool was like a blow to the chin. I'd felt his cock, for he had made me hold it, and his prick was as big as he boasted. A thick cock, seemingly as thick as my wrist, and long besides. My hand had moved in what felt like an endless march up his shaft.
Ten inches? Perhaps.
Damn it, the size wasn't important! I wouldn't have been any more enthusiastic if he'd been hung like a grade-school boy. I didn't want any man's ugly, stinking prick in my cunt!
"NO!!" I cried again, slapping at Randy where he still licked and nibbled my fear-swollen tits. "You can't do this to me!"
"The fuckin' hell I can't!" Luke whooped.
Even as he spoke, he touched my half-parted cunt-lips with the end of his dong. Rubbing me, petting me, digging as if he meant to stuff his incredibly engorged knob up my cunt right now, dry as I was, unready as I was. "Agghhh!! Aaaaaggcgghhhhhhhh! You're hurting meeee!"
"Nothin' good comes easy," he observed, replacing his dick with his finger.
My cunt was tight, because no man had been inside it for a hell of a long time, and because fright had contracted my cuntal sphincter. My snatch was dry as a bone, but it didn't seem to intimidate my rapist. He thrust that finger up my unwillingly exposed pussy, then worked it like a screwdriver, around and around.
I screamed again. "Aiiiiieeeeeeee!!" But my screams didn't stop him, nor did they inspire him to any degree of courtesy. He kept working that finger crudely, roughly, until my pussy abandoned the struggle for chastity and seeped with a thin flow of feminine juices.
Oh, God, I thought, if I don't loosen up, he's going to kill me! It was rape, and I didn't want to be raped, but there were worse things. Nothing could make me like this experience – not the portion completed nor the part upcoming – but active resistance would only make it worse. Be passive, Marilyn, I told myself. Go limp. Let him fuck you, if he must. Go limp! If it worked against the pigs in the 60's, it'll work now.
My body slumped. It was as if I were a balloon and all the air had suddenly whooshed out of me. I lay across the edge of the truck bed, and Randy kept on playing with my nipples, but I was numb. I couldn't feel anything. Going limp had worked.
"That's better," Luke told me. "You're gonna like it better if you don't fight."
He pulled his finger out of my tight cunt, and I could feel the slightest trickle of juice from my splayed lips, into the thick mass of black pussy hair that adorns my crotch. At least my twat wouldn't be totally dry when he fucked me. There would be at least a smatter of cuntal fluid to keep him from tearing me apart with that giant cock. Oh, God! Let him be swift, I prayed. It was the first time I had prayed in at least fifteen years.
"Man, has she got a hairy pussy!" Luke hollered to his brother, who was squeezing my tits brutally, the nipples rigid between his pinching fingers. "Looks like a monkey's cunt!"
Well, I was willing to bet he knew all about monkey cunts! They probably fucked sheep when they couldn't find women. But today there was no need to hunt a sheep, because they had me, like it or no.
Luke pressed his arm down on the curve of my back, and my stomach ground harder against the rounded truck side. It hit me just below the solar plexus, and I thought I might faint. But I wasn't that lucky. Consciousness faltered but didn't abandon me. Luke eased his crotch against my ass and rubbed my gash again with his dick. His fingering had made my cunt wet, to a degree, and he sopped that little trickle of wetness with the spongy tip of his rod.
"No!" I groaned as the fat head dug at my cunt, and then "Oh, Jeeeessssuuuusssszzzzzzzzzzzzz!" when he began to put it in me.
I screamed shrilly, hoping against hope that someone would hear me cry and would came to investigate. But who? These woods and hills looked as if they'd not been explored since the days of Daniel Boone, and everyone knows that the Good Samaritan is exclusively a Christian story. I was shit out of luck.
My cunt tightened automatically in resistance, as if that could save me from being raped. God, how long had it been since I'd permitted a man to fuck me? I couldn't remember. And something else I'd forgotten was how hard a hard-on could be, how cruelly a cock could gouge soft, tight, unwilling pussy-flesh. But the memory was returning swiftly, and I knew I'd never forget again.
"Why don't you loosen up, damn it?" he growled, cuffing me on the back of the head.
I reeled with his slap, my senses swimming. For a long moment I was on the verge of blacking out – I couldn't even feel Randy's fingers pulling my nipples to rubbery, aching extensions – and I had no control whatsoever on my body. Luke saw his advantage and he took it, that cock of his thrusting up with furious energy, and I hadn't even the strength left to scream my pain when he buried his thick rod in my burning cunt-hole.
"Goddamn!" he yelled in glee. "Talk about tight fuckin'!"
Randy slapped my tits and stooped to attack my nipples with his mouth once again, as if he were savoring the delights his brother had found, as if he were anticipating his own share of them.
"You're tearing me apart," I moaned, trying to pull away from him. But where could I pull to? My knees bumped the side of the truck and he pushed down on my back again, and then Luke started barrel-housing his dick up my cunt-channel.
"That's what they all say," he informed me, "and maybe a few bitches walk around bowlegged when I've finished with 'em, but I ain't never killed one yet. Least, not with my cock! Hot damn, you're wigglin' and jigglin' like a snake! You that anxious for it? Well, let me get my breath and I'll fuck you seven ways from Sunday, girl."
"Move your butt a little, honey," he added, patting my cheeks. "Don't you know how to fuck? Don't nobody bang each other up there in Massachusetts? Well, they sure God do in West Virginia, and I'm gonna give you a real down-home screwin'!"
His cock thrust into my hole, filling me completely from labes to cervix, and it felt as if my cuntal sheath weren't long enough to take it all. His cock stretched my cunt mercilessly, lengthwise and sidewise, and there was a moment of ghastly, indescribable pain as he battered the tip of my womb with his dick-head. He seemed to enjoy the way I moaned and writhed in agony, because he socked it to me again in quick succession, several times, before he gave up the search for interesting frills and threw all his attention into getting his rocks off.
It was, a thankfully subdued brand of fucking that Luke threw into me then short, jiggling strokes that reamed me terribly but didn't hurt so much as his mad, deep penetrations.
"Ah…" I whimpered, rocking as he fucked me.
"Yeah, I'm almost there, too," he groaned. "Jesus, Randy boy, this is a real nut-cracker pussy. Feels like it's gonna tear my pecker off!"
"Well, hurry up," Randy called, biting my tits and neck, "or I'm gonna come in my pants!"
"Be a hell of a waste, boy," panted my rapist, "'cause there's no place like hooommmme!" and he collapsed on me, cock gyrating and dancing in my cunt as he filled me with his hot cum.
Randy stopped his sucking, biting and fondling of my tits, and the truck-bed shook as he leaped across the side to join us.
"Out of the way," he told his brother, "or I'm liable to fuck you!"
"Her cunt's all yours, little brother," Luke guffawed.
He lifted himself from my prone, helpless body, and his cock hadn't diminished much in hardness when he pulled it from my slit. As he extracted it, I felt jism begin to drip from my slash, the hot thick globs collecting in the hairs around my cunt-mouth. I had never felt so degraded in all my life, as I did at that moment.
Randy dropped his jeans – he wore nothing underneath, I noticed over my shoulder – and he moved towards me with a formidable prick jutting up from his crotch. It was a long, hard tool, not quite so thick as Luke's nor so long either, but it was the second largest prick I had ever seen in the flesh. A hideous monster and I was chilled to think that it, too, would…
He hastened into the spread of my legs. I was too weak to close them, and for what purpose? They'd both seen everything. What did I have left to hide, to cherish? His knees made sure that my thighs remained open. His cock touched me from beneath, nosing into the cum-wet vicinity of my leaking snatch, and he greased his rod in the scummy oil of his brother's orgasm.
"God, please," I moaned. "Make it fast!"
"What's a matter, can't wait?" he chuckled, and then he was thrusting up into my pussy, and I was moaning again as I received another unwelcome prick.
My cunt was thickly coated with Luke's seed, which allowed Randy's cock to enter me without much trouble. The reaming I'd gotten from that first monster cock had loosened the natural snugness of my cunt. Oh, I was still tight, but nowhere near so tight as when this revolting incident had begun.
Randy screwed me hard, with deep strokes, until my cunt had loosened even more for him, and he pawed my hips where I writhed in futile resistance.
"Hotter'n a two-dollar pistol," he told his brother. "Mmmm-hmmmm!"
He swayed behind me, burying his boner up my cunt with a certain eccentric rhythmic pattern that counterpointed the twitchings of my ass, and almost imperceptibly his strokes became shorter.
And shorter. His dick slicked into my hole only far enough for the swollen head to rasp a ticklish contact that reminded me very much of a favorite masturbation technique of mine. In – but only so far – then out and in again, swiftly, as if I were playing a game of hide and seek with my cuntal emotions. He kept it up, and if I closed my eyes and forgot about the metal beneath my upper abdomen. And forgot about the hands fondling my privates, and tried to forget that my cunt was being ravaged by an ugly, disgusting cock. I could almost pretend that I was safe at home, in my own bed, loving myself. He killed that half-soothing fantasy in his brutal male fashion. Randy panted and jammed his pecker up my chute, and I felt it convulse and quiver as he began to shoot off, deep in my cunt. He reached around to cup my tits, and he squeezed them as he panted and pumped and squirted his seed into my snatch, and the battering of his crotch against my ass was agony itself. My tits ached from the crudity of his squeezing and my pussy felt as if it were about to burst aflame.
He pulled back a little, and for a moment or two he resumed that short, teasing kind of action which had almost enabled me to forget what was happening. His cock-head flirted with the sensitive mouth of my cunt, darting in, pulling out, splashing amid the wet hot jism already beginning to leak from me for the second time today.
His hands were still on my tits, and my nipples were raw between his prying, pinching fingers. He'd sucked my tits and bitten them and fondled them, while his brother had fucked me, and my nipples still ached from that. When he squeezed those tender tips now, when he pulled them in his fingers, tweaking, twisting, mauling… I don't know how else to explain it. It shouldn't have happened, but it did, and nothing could stop what started in my belly. One of his strokes had touched me where it should not have touched me, and my body could only obey the impulse. As he pulled my nipples again, as he kept tickling me with his dick, I began to climax.
Not a big climax – just a little series of shudders and moans and pussy-contractions around the tip of Randy's dong. But it was a come all the same, and I felt juice seeping through me, my juice mingling with his, and I couldn't even whine in protest because I was too busy moaning "Oooooohhhhhhhh!" over and over, in a lost, agonized voice.
Even so, it didn't disguise the facts. I was being raped – fucked without my consent, against my will. As soon as I got away from these cock-suckers, I was going to find a policeman, get that sonofabitch by the ear. I'd show him my car, where they'd shoved it over the hill. And I'd make that pig comb these hills and Goddamned mountains and valleys up and down until he found these two degenerates, and then – and then I'd take over! Luke and Randy would never rape another sister.
Randy took his dick out of my cunt, and one last drip of his cum oozed out, landing on the back of my thigh. It was so thick, so sticky, so hot. My muscles jerked when I felt it touch me.
"Damn," he said appreciatively, slapping my ass with a playful hand. "Talk about pussy!"
His finger thrust between my legs and across the slash of my humiliated cunt. I was still tingly from the embarrassing orgasm, but I was too drained, physically and emotionally, to do more than murmur disapproval.
Slowly I eased back, and I saw that my stomach was red where I'd been forced to lie upon the edge of the truck-bed. I rubbed the long scarlet bruise, my eyes floating aimlessly from Luke to Randy and back again. They were hoisting up their pants, covering their cocks, and both of them were flushed from lust and activity.
As defiantly as I could, I pulled up my jeans and fastened them. That took care of my cunt, but how could I clothe my upper body? Luke had torn my top apart, and there was no way I could regain decency from that ripped garment. I had a sick, despairing premonition of myself, trying to get to help, probably getting arrested for indecent exposure because the rapists had destroyed my shirt.
Still, I was willing to try. I crawled past them, holding the torn top against my tits.
"Hang on a minute!" Luke called, grabbing my ankle and giving a nasty jerk.
I fell onto my stomach, bumping my chin in the process against the hard metal truck-bed.
"Where you goin'?"
Rebellion flamed inside me. They had already raped me. If they killed me for insolence afterward, at least I'd express my sense of outrage.
"Let go of me, you cock-sucker!" I snapped. "If you ever touch me again, I'll kill you!"
Luke guffawed, and then he pulled on my ankle. I skidded towards him, bumping as I was dragged. He got his hand on my shoulder and pulled me into a sitting position.
"Feisty little cunt," he said with a snicker. "But I knew you'd be feisty soon as I laid eyes on you. Pretty face, hair like a Goddamn hippie, outa sight body – knew you'd be feisty and fucky and lots of fun."
He cupped my chin in a somewhat dirty fist and leaned close. If Luke tried to kiss me, he would learn what feisty was all about. I might not be able to kill the bastard, but I could do a hell of a lot of damage.
But he didn't even try to put his mouth upon mine. Instead he leaned back, eyeing his brother. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" he asked Randy. Randy shrugged. "Damn right you are," Luke grinned. "Why not?"
"Why not what?" I asked in a tense voice. God only knew what kind of after-rape diversions these two were capable of, and there was a sudden gleam in their eyes that sent chills up my spine.
"Somethin' real nice," Luke purred, and his hand stole up my shoulder, towards my neck. Was he going to throttle me? I froze in dread. Much as I wanted to break away and run, I couldn't. That hand on my shoulder blade paralyzed me, stilled me in my tracks.
"Learned to do this in Nam," he announced, directing the words to no one in particular.
His fingers moved like a spider across my flesh. Randy watched us lazily, from a few feet away, and I saw him scratch the crotch of his jeans. Luke's fingers touched my neck.
"Just a little nip, right here," and I don't know what else he said, because I went out, frigid oblivion encompassing my mind and body.