There was no sun the next morning, and the low forest mists surrounding the clapboard shack created an air of dismality that seemed to permeate the atmosphere with a heavy cloak of doom.
Susan sat huddled before the fire, draped in one of the tattered blankets from the bed upon which she had been so brutally ravished last night. Her body ached horribly in all the tender places the three negroes had so mercilessly pressed their attentions upon. Duke had awakened her early, in the same position she lay after the horrible depraved attack, and she was grateful for she had been able to freshen herself a little in the cold water from the kitchen before the others awoke. She had repaired her torn gown in a makeshift way, using several pins she found around the cabin, and Duke had retrieved her panties and brassiere from the car. From these few remnants of cloth, she had covered herself as best she could.
The others had awakened shortly afterwards. She had prepared them breakfast, refusing to look any of them in the eye, though she could feel their arrogant gazes peering right through her all the time she worked. Duke had not mentioned what had happened to any of them, but it was plain he was not happy that he had given her up for the evening. In fact, she felt rather secure in the knowledge that it was not likely to happen again in that way. If she was called upon to give herself, it would be only to him and not the others. Strange, she thought, as she raised her head and looked around the room at the four negroes who held her captive, how the perspective of things changed when one had no other choice. All things in the world were really relative to one another. She had taken her choice of all the boys in high school, and had picked Richard because he was most like her.
Now, she had only the choice between these four brutal criminals, all of whom, except the imbecile Stitch, had ravished her against her will, but she still had to make a choice between them for her protector. She knew it wouldn't take much show of preference on her part to get anyone of them on her side, although Duke was the one she needed. He was the leader because he was the strongest. He may be more brutal than the others, but still he had exhibited a certain tenderness toward her after the rape in the car, and would not have let the others take her last night if he hadn't been so confident of himself in cards. Even then, when he had lost and had disappeared from the room to let the victors have their way with her, she half expected him to return and reclaim her. But, of course, under their code, which she knew she could never understand, he could not, no matter how much he may have wanted to. Life itself meant so little to those brought up in the ghetto jungles, so how could she expect they, the survivors, to care about such a small intimate thing as her lost virginity? She was an object to be used, like a tin can they might suddenly come upon in the gutter and kick along the street until they became bored, and then kick back again into the gutter from which it came. No, her only hope for survival was Duke, and that meant subjugating herself to him completely, until she could find a way to get out of this horrible mess she had fallen into.
"I-I-I think I hear them c-comin'," Stitch, who had been sullenly reflecting on his missed chance last night, suddenly exclaimed. "T-T-There's a c-c-car."
The others jumped up and rushed to the window expectantly. They had been waiting patiently all morning for whoever they were supposed to meet. Susan had heard them quietly discussing a plan of some kind where the word riot had come up often, and she had begun to wonder then if they really were just ordinary hoodlums, or something much more dangerous. What ever it was that they had in mind, it seemed to be something very important to them. Duke had been nervous and on edge all the while they had been waiting, as though he were afraid of something or someone… perhaps, she would learn the answer soon now.
"It's about time," Duke growled, looking at his watch. "They's over two hours late."
The low roar of a car engine could be heard coming up the road, and then turning into the short dirt driveway that led to the shack. It stopped, and the sound of two doors being slammed could be heard from the outside.
"Hot damn," Shorty sudden slapped his knee and grabbed his stomach in laughter, "He's done brought Jodie with him. You gonna ketch hell ovah this lit' honky chick now, Duke."
Susan turned from the fireplace where she had kept her head down looking into the blazing logs, when she heard the loud laughter and the words that Shorty was throwing at Duke. She felt his eyes turn to her for a moment and then look back out the window.
There were two pair of steps coming across the porch, and then the door opened. A tall lithe mulatto negress entered first, and seeing Duke, rushed to him and threw her arms around. She held him for a moment, and feeling no response, backed off with a puzzled expression on her face.
"What's the matter, baby, don'cha recognize me?" she asked quizzically.
"That isn't the reason, is it, Duke?"
A second well-dressed negro, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and sporting a small goatee, entered behind her and nodded toward the confused Susan, who still sat huddled beneath the blanket.
The negress turned her head, and for the first time saw the cowering white girl before the fireplace. She stood still for a moment, her hands on hips, and glared down at her from across the room. She was a striking thing, as a really good-looking negro woman can be, with long flowing jet black hair that glistened down over her shoulders, and fiery black eyes that burned through Susan like two hot belching volcanic craters smoldering before eruption.
"Who's the honky bitch," she hissed through her tightly clench teeth, a quick rising hatred in her voice.
"She ain't nobody," Duke suddenly defended. "I brought 'er here to keep us company while we plan the thing. That's all."
The others snickered. It was obvious they were enjoying the position Duke had been put in by the unexpected arrival of his girl, and also the thought that perhaps it would free the white girl for them to enjoy again as they had last night.
Susan sensed this, and she could see the imbiced a certain tenenly brightening as the thought penetrated his mind. He had sulked all morning after Shorty refused to let him ravish her battered body, but she knew he had not given up by any means. She had caught his eyes flickering over her with an undisguised lust in them when he had thought no one was looking, and she found herself trembling each time he did. She remembered him masturbating over her broken and exhausted form last night and shooting his lewd sperm across her naked breasts, as she had lain helpless and beaten on the bed. God help her if she ever were at his mercy without Duke to protect her.
"Well," the negress sneered with cocky self-assurance and started with a swagger across the room toward Susan. "I just gotta see what this little honky gal's got that I ain't."
Susan cowered back against the wall next to the fireplace, as the girl reached down grabbing the corner of the blanket and ripped it from her shoulders, exposing her tattered gown to the eyes of the others in the room. "Well, looks like somebody's been havin' some fun, and it better not be you, Duke, baby," she half snarled as she saw the condition of the cringing Susan's dress.
"Leave 'er alone," Duke growled from the window where he was still standing. "I do what I like, ya hear. Nobody tells me what I can do or cain't do."
"Stop it, you two," commanded the well-dressed negro. "We've got more important things to discuss now than who gets lover boy here."
Susan held her breath as the angered negress towered over her, still holding the blanket in her hand. She glared down at Susan for a moment with the most intense contempt she had ever seen in any human's eyes, and then suddenly threw the blanket back at her, and turned away.
"Ain't no honky bitch got what I got anyway," she said, walking seductively across the room and placing her arm in Duke's. "He's my man, and he's gonna stay that way, ain'cha honey?"
"Aw, shut up, and let's get to work," Duke said, ignoring her question directly. He turned to the other negro, "Did ya bring the bread, man?"
"Yes," the new arrival answered, raising the briefcase he carried in his hand. "But," he hesitated, "there are some things that have to be settled first, some very important things."
"Then let's git with it," Duke said, walking toward the table. "We got some questions for you too."
Susan watched them pulling chairs up to the rickety wooden table that stood in the corner away from the fireplace, and preparing for what evidently was to be an extremely important meeting. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of conflict between Duke and the man who had just arrived. Duke had greeted him with a cold reserve that she hadn't noticed he possessed before. He could be cruel, yes, but the reserve was something else, and she was certain she could detect a little fear mixed in his almost contemptuous manner toward the man.
The man was educated, there was no question about it from the way he dressed and spoke, and perhaps, this was the element that Duke feared the most. He obviously did not know about the world beyond the power of strength, and maybe he could feel himself being bypassed, even by those of his own kind.
This was something new to many negroes, she thought as her mind raced back in retrospect, remembering things her father had said – things she had never absorbed before because she had never been directly exposed to them. She could remember him talking about the sudden push for educating the negroes, and how this was creating a gap among their own people, the educated and the ignorant. This gap began to breed suspicions among those like Duke who had learned to live on strength and cunning alone.
Perhaps, she reasoned, Duke had his place too, by virtue of the fact that he had developed such animal cunning and physical strength. This was his education of survival that was older than the human race itself. The new university breed, the lucky ones who had escaped the ghetto, or had never been born there… they knew about the ways of the law and how it could be used to accomplish the same purpose with greater effect than the strength of old. Their movement, her father said, was much like the American labor movement and the rise of unionism. It hadn't been many years since union organizers were treated as criminals and jailed for trespassing on company property. Now, they had their own laws that protected them just like the negroes that benefited from the new civil rights laws.
But, as with the unions of yesterday, opportunists were always there to exploit the great unrest smoldering beneath this kind of social movement for their own fortune and power. These were the new breed, like the well-dressed man sitting at the table now, she thought. The university ones, who had nothing to lose because they had already passed the barrier. They already had their position in either world and could use those still attempting to climb up from the ghettos with impunity and disregard. They were expendable and exploitable because they worshipped their educated leaders, and if a man could boast of this, they asked nothing more from him. They're like lambs being led to slaughter, Susan thought, as she studied the man with the horn-rimmed glasses with a renewed interest.
"Hey," Duke's voice burst across the room, interrupting her digressions. "Help Jodie with some chow."
Susan automatically rose to her feet at his command, pulling the blanket tight around her like a cape and started for the kitchen. She dreaded going in there, because she knew she would be alone with the tall negress who was Duke's girl. She knew also that she had made a bitter enemy that could be far more dangerous than any of the others had been so far. She had studied her back by the fireplace, and could tell by the way she hung onto Duke that she was insanely jealous of him. In fact, there was not the slightest doubt in her mind that Jodie would kill for him if she were forced into the position. Susan had read grim accounts in magazines of what girls from these gangs had done to each other over possession of their men, and shuddered as a few of the more grisly details filtered through her worried mind. She would just have to be as careful as she could, and stay as close to Duke as possible. She had to, for the sake of her life. Nothing she could do or say would change the negro girl's enmity towards her now, and without Duke's protection she would be at the mercy of all the others. She would rather die than go through another horrible ravishment that her body had been subjected to last night.
No, there was only one way out. And that was by giving her all to the negro leader, in spite of her repulsion of him and all the others. Duke was her only hope for survival.
"Here's the map," she heard the educated negro say as she passed the table. "We're gonna make last summer's little warm-up in Detroit look like a Sunday school picnic."
"Okay, man," Duke said skeptically, looking over the table at the two girls as they disappeared into the kitchen. "Spell it out fo' us."
Susan followed behind the negress girl as they entered the kitchen, and did not say a word. She knew that whatever she did say would be taken with anger and didn't want to start anything, though she knew something was bound to happen sooner or later. The negress did not intend to let her off so easily for her encroachment on her man, even if she had been raped. If Jodie had the least opportunity, she would make it unbearable for her.
Jodie went right to work, as though she had been through this kind of thing a hundred times before. She said nothing at all to Susan as she followed her silent indications over what was to be done in preparation for the meal. First, came the bread, and then the thinly sliced lamb that they had brought in abundance. She remembered looking for some ham in the grocery bags last night, but could find none. It was then she recalled reading about the black Muslim movement among the ghetto negroes; of course, they did not eat ham, instead they followed the Moslim religion of the Arabs and made their staple food, lamb. This fit so well with the many other puzzling factors about them that she still didn't understand fully.
There must be a strong purpose in this gathering, she thought, and a far more evil purpose than merely holding up supermarkets or mugging drunks in back alleys. She could not place her finger on it yet, but from the few things she had picked in isolated bits of conversation, it was sure to be something big they were planning.
"Don't touch it," Jodie snarled, as Susan made a move to pick up the tray that held the sandwiches. "I'll take care of 'em. You jist wash up and stay heah in the kitchen."
Susan gladly followed her command. The more she stayed away from the others, the less problems it would create for her. The imbicilic Stitch was beginning to get on her nerves the way he undressed her with his lewd glances out of the corner of his eye when he thought Duke wasn't watching. She realized that the less she stimulated his desire with her presence, the safer she would be later.
She busied herself washing up the things they had dirtied while the negress disappeared through the door with the tray. She wished she could stay alone all day and collect her thoughts, or try to, but knew it would be impossible. She might possibly have a chance to escape if she had enough time to recover her wits and think hard enough. It shouldn't be too difficult, as they weren't watching her that closely now. They didn't even seem to be worried about it, but she knew that if she did try, she had better succeed. Once they caught her at it, she would never be given the chance again, and she was sure her punishment would be swift and harsh. No, she would just have to bide her time and wait for a chance that could not fail.
"Duke says you're to come out in the other room," Jodie suddenly said from the door. "He don't want you alone in heah."
The tone of her voice was cold and filled with a hatred of the most intense kind. The negress had realized now that her position with the leader was in jeopardy by his concern over the white girl. Susan could feel the change of her attitude from one of sudden confused jealousy, to a deep animal loathing whose intensity knew no bounds.
The negress filled half the doorway and would not move as Susan started out to join the others in the front room. She paused for a moment to give her the chance to let her by, but Jodie remained defiantly entrenched where she was standing, fire sparkling in her black eyes.
"He's mine, and I'll kill you if you touch him," she hissed into her ear, being careful that the others could not hear. "And," she added as Susan squeezed by her, "I won't do it fast-like. It'll be nice and easy, so's you can feel it all the way down to white hell."
Susan trembled, pausing for the slightest of seconds as the girl spoke to her, and then continued on as though she had not heard her.
"Come on, baby," Duke smiled proudly as she came into the room. "I want ya to see this heah plan. Ya might wanna change sides in this heah war when ya see what we got cookin' for the honkies down in Chicago."
"I don't think she ought to hear this Duke," the newly arrived negro said quietly. "If it gets out before we're ready, it could ruin the entire plan."
"Man," Duke answered, looking him coldly in the eye, "You bring the bread and you lay the plan, but don't tell me how to git it done."
"Alright," the other negro said after pausing for a moment, "but remember, if anything goes wrong, you'll have to answer to the man. Not me."
"I'll answer to the man," Duke said confidently. "As long as he sends the bread."
It was obvious that whatever they were planning had something to do with the riots that had been going on in a small scale for the last several weeks. This negro tanking to Duke seemed to be an intermediary between Duke's gang and someone else who was running things on a much broader scale. Susan could see also, that the union between the two groups was very shallow, and was not being done on Duke's side for any particular social or philosophical reason. It was being done because he and his gang were being paid to do it, and nothing else.
"Sit down, baby, and listen." Duke motioned to an empty chair beside him. "You gonna see how the great race war of the summer nineteen hundred and sixty-eight really began."
Susan sat hesitantly in the chair, aware of the glaring eyes the negro girl had locked on her. She dared not look up at her for fear of giving away the dread that permeated her whole body. This would be a mistake now, and would only bring further retaliation. If she stayed near Duke and kept his confidence until her chance for escape arose, she should be safe, and, it was the only way she could be assured of escaping the others. Particularly, the lust-crazed Stitch, who even now was licking his lips nervously as he watched her from across the table.
"First, man, the bread." Duke halted the well-dressed negro as he started to point to an enlarged map of the Chicago Woodlawn ghetto area that was laid out on the table. "How much ya got?" Duke persisted.
"One grand, as we agreed before," he answered matter-of-factly. "Straight from Havana."
"Is it real?" Duke asked skeptically, and then added, "Lemme see it."
The negro lifted the briefcase off the floor and reached in to pull out a large stack of twenty dollar bills.
"Care to count them?"
"Naw, man, just wanna make sure they's real," Duke answered and peeled one from the stack where they had been placed on the table.
He looked it over carefully, studying every detail by raising it to the light and looking intently through it. After several minutes, he turned his head to the waiting visitor and nodded his approval.
"Looks okay," he said. "We been stuck with some phony stuff for some o' the other jobs we done for ya."
"You spent it, didn't you, like it was real," the other negro said impatiently.
"Yeah, yeah, man, it was good stuff, but for the risks me and my boys takes, it oughta be right stuff. We don't charge much, ya know."
"I'll tank to the man about it in the future," he was answered curtly, and the negro turned back to the map.
Susan watched him carefully. In spite of her concern over her own precarious position, her curiosity had been aroused by the trend of the strange conversation. Most of the people she knew were of the opinion that the negro ghetto flare-ups that had occurred throughout the country were a spontaneous kind of thing that had been brought on by accidental incidences, and were not the result of some master plan controlled by any central organized group. Now, she was not so certain, and concentrated on the well-dressed negro's words as he began to speak.
"This is where we start it," he said with a grim tone to his voice. She could see that he was pointing to a side street that ran adjacent to the main artery through the Chicago ghetto.
"They'll never expect it here. They'll be looking for it on the main drag where they've got all the fuzz concentrated. We could never get a crowd gathered otherwise. They'd have it broken up in two minutes after all the lessons they learned last summer."
"W-W-Where ya g-gonna git a c-c-crowd," Stitch stuttered, a puzzled expression on his face.
"That's what you four and the others of your group get the thousand for," the speaker answered with a smile. "You see this point on the map," he continued, pointing to the center of a block. "This is where two of you will get picked up by the cops for being drunk and breaking a window in the cleaning shop that's located here. When they arrive to arrest you, you'll start a fight so they'll have to call a patrol wagon and bring in others. This will isolate them from the main group on the next street so they can't organize into any kind of wedge formation to break anything up before we can get started."
"Man, that ain't gonna git no crowd," Shorty, who had been sitting silent, interrupted. "We gotta hundred beefs goin' all the time down there."
"Next step," the negro continued as though anticipating this objection, "is a molotov cocktail through the window of this supermarket just down the street. They've got a stock of cleaning fluid and other inflammable material stored right next to the window where it goes through. It'll go up like a Roman candle. This, of course, brings in the fire department."
He paused for a moment with a self-assured smile on his face, and looked around the table.
"Does everyone see now the beginning of a crowd?"
"Ya crazy, man, ya talking about a hunderd years for anybody what gits caught," Duke spoke with alarm. "We cain't do that, for no money."
"You'll have help," their visitor said with quiet confidence. "Once this stage is reached, they won't have time to worry about arresting two drunken brawlers and an arsonist. You see these buildings?" he asked, marking five of them on an enlarged map.
"These are better sniper positions than all the trees in the jungle of Viet Nam. We've marked out twenty vacant rooms that we can pick off the honky police and firemen from, and have another forty for alternate positions that each man moves to after his primary position is discovered. We've twenty-five of the best trained guerrilla fighters you can find anywhere already familiarizing themselves with the area and their escape routes. When one building is overrun, we'll get out through the sewers. If one knows those underground routes well, there's no one in the world who can catch them unless that person knows them too, and so far, the honkies haven't caught on to the fact that we aren't just another mob. They haven't planned for the way we're going to do it this time."
"Where'd ya git these guerrilla fighters ya talkin' so big about," Duke interjected, a forced skepticism in his voice. He didn't mind the planning and brainwork of something like this being in other hands if the money were good enough, but violence had always been his business, and he sensed a sudden tinge of jealous concern flicker through his mind with the realization that even this was being taken from him. "I got guys that kin take care o' honky cops."
"You got guys that can use a shive or zip gun," the smooth self-assured negro said contemptuously. "That did the job last summer, but it won't do it this time. We can't leave it in the hands of amateurs."
"Man," Duke half shouted at him and leaped to his feet. "I kin take on all twenty five of them cats o' yours anyday and don't ya try and tell me I cain't."
Unruffled by the sudden outburst, the negro out lining the plan stepped back from the table and put his hands in his pockets. He stood still for a moment not saying a word as Duke leered at him with clenched fists across the width of the table.
"Say it, man, say I cain't, lemme hear ya say it," the enraged Duke shouted again.
His antagonist turned back to him and spoke without raising his voice. "Can you fire an M-16 rifle, Duke?"
There was a long silence and Susan could see the blood rising in Duke's face as he suddenly sensed a defeat that he was unprepared for.
"Naw, man," he finally sputtered, his voice lowering a degree in bitter retreat. "But what's that got to do with it?"
"Just this," he was answered in a calm even tone. "The honky National Guardsmen down on the street know how and they've got them. They could cut down your boys with their knives and zip guns in a matter of minutes. You wouldn't stand a chance. The men we've got there now have learned to use their equipment well, taught by the honky army itself in Viet Nam. And, we've just brought them back from six additional months in Cuba where they've had the best guerrilla training in the world. And, another thing, they've got M-16's too, and can use them ten times better than the young green honkies in the guard."
Duke stood for a moment, his composure and command completely gone, and then sat slowly back down in the chair. He had no answer for that argument and knew the others knew it too. They had seen the city last summer when the guard had moved in with their tanks and machine guns and automatic weapons, and nothing he could say now would matter one bit. His own men would know he was wrong and that the smooth-talking educated son-of-bitch with the black horned-rimmed glasses was right. A puny thin bastard that he could twist into nothing with his little finger, and here he was humiliating and degrading him before the others like he was dirt. And, there was nothing he could do about it; nothing in his background had prepared him for arguing against this new confident breed that were slowly taking over the world he had known and controlled by brute cunning all his life.
Susan felt the impact of the heavy silence that followed the one-sided and unequal exchange, and suddenly within herself, in spite of all she had gone through at the hands of the four brutal negroes, found her heart going out to them and all their kind. For some reason, she remembered with clarity at this particular moment a favorite statement of Mr. Herman, her anthropology teacher in school, about how funny the first two legged clumsy creatures to walk upon the earth must have looked to the monkeys swinging gracefully through the trees. She had always pictured them following the earth-bound creatures through the jungles, taunting them with their excited chatter and throwing objects down on them from above, safe and secure in their haven above the ground until one day, eons later, they suddenly found themselves caged and gaped at as objects of jest by those very creatures they had tormented with such impunity at an earlier time.
And now, now she could picture Duke and the others tormenting in the same way from a ghetto street corner someone much like the goateed and horn-rimmed negro now twisting and leading them into an oblivion that could set their cause back a thousand years. She could hear them throwing crude obscenities at his dress and perhaps tearing the books from his hands in a cruel gesture of superiority. And now, now he had returned with a vengeance to cage them in their own ignorance of the world outside the ghetto that only he had visited and could compete with. They had no choice, the new breed were the catalysts around which their cause had become centered, the black power, the militants, because no one else had a plan to lead them from their misery that promised anything else but a vague hope in the future. At least the promise they received was a promise of action… where that action would lead was another matter… but it was action. That was all that mattered now.
"So what's gonna happen to all those people, man, once we git 'em in the street and all fired up?" Duke spoke defensively now. He had conceded by his own primitive logic the point he had lost a moment ago.
"Some will die," the well-dressed negro answered matter-of-factly. "They have to, it's a war."
"I got brothers down there in them streets," Duke said, attempting to regain a small bit of the prestige he had lost in the eyes of the others. "You mean you gonna let them honkies shoot 'em down."
"They may not, but we will," the other said coldly. "It's the only way to get them fired up enough to take the law into their own hands. We've got to alienate them completely from the honkies and all their one hundred years too late programs for curing the ills of our people. The man has instructed our snipers to fire on the mob. The honky cops will be blamed and there'll be no holding them back after that."
"Man, we cain't kill our own people. Let's git them honkies, I kin do that, but not our kind," Duke objected with an almost pleading tone to his voice.
"You've got no choice, you've taken the pledge to follow the decisions of the group and this is the decision of the group. Besides, I said this was a war and people must die in wars. We need martyrs to unite our people as one against the honkies and for what they stand for, otherwise, they'll never get mad enough to take what belongs to them. That's the way it's going to be and you're coming along or be left behind, so take your choice right now. I'm sure the others are with me."
Duke looked around the table at Coke, Shorty, and Stitch. They did not look back at him but kept their eyes lowered to the map on the table. There was no doubt which way they would go if he put the choice to them.
"Okay, man," he said after a few minutes. "Let's get on with the plan."
There were no other objections after Duke had had his say and Susan sat in stunned and helpless silence as the whole horrible plot was outlined before her eyes that would leave a major part of downtown Chicago a gutted and useless city. It was a military operation, pure and simple, which even she as a girl could understand. Gone were the days of the peaceful freedom marches through Mississippi. Gone were the days when whites marched alongside them in their quest for a better world for themselves. It was color now, black against white, not human being working with human being and could only lead to a senseless and vain slaughter in the end that would accomplish nothing but the building of a barrier between them that could never be breached ever again.
It was dark when the meeting was over and the visiting negro folded his maps and packed them away in the brief case. Duke had followed the complicated plan all the way through even though the others had lost interest long ago and had had to be prodded awake several times as a reference to their part in the operation would come up. Susan had maintained her alertness through-out, even forgetting for short stretches of time, her precarious position with the gang. Again, she had caught the others at various times glancing over at her with obvious remembrance of the pleasure her young virginal body had given them last night. All, that is, except the still sulking Stitch. His glances were of pleasures yet to come from that body that had been denied him by the others at the command of the leader. Brutal pleasures he would tear from her at any cost if he were given the slightest of chances.
"They's gonna be a lotta mad honkies when this things ovah," Duke said without enthusiasm as the other negro prepared to leave.
"That's the point," he smiled. "If they don't like the black man, then they won't do a thing to help him. And, if in a so-called democracy, the majority doesn't do it, then it doesn't get done. That makes the naggers madder and they really blow up."
Duke winced slightly at the term "snigger" applied by one of their own kind and it suddenly became clear to Susan that this man did not consider himself as one with them. He, and the others he worked with, had placed themselves in a category aside and did not identify themselves at all with those they were using as so much cannon fodder to get their so-called people's revolution under way. Civil rights, beginning as a wonderful and legitimate cause for the rights of man, had fallen to the enemy as a bitter and uncontested gift of history that would change the direction of man kind for all time to come.
"We'll be down to see ya tomorrow, man, to set it oh." Duke said, standing at the door and then asked quizzically, "But one other thing, man, if you got all them guerrilla fighters, how come ya need us?"
"It's got to look local," he answered simply and then added with a half contemptuous smile. "Re member, it's you people that are unhappy and causing all this."
"Yeah, man, you're right," Duke said half under his breath and closed the door behind him without waiting for him to turn and leave.
Susan was glad when she heard the sound of the car engine leaving the house even though she knew it only brought the time closer when she would be without a doubt, subjected to more indignities at the hands of her captors. But, the well-dressed negro created a greater and far more terrifying fear in her of the picture he had suddenly presented of the chaotic and explosive world she was going to have to live in for a long time to come if she lived. Right now, the wanton abuse of her body and senses seemed like such a trivial thing although she knew when the moment came again she would react with as much revulsion and horror as she had before because it was happening to her, here and now, and was not something of tomorrow.
"D'ya want something to eat, honey," she heard the negro girl ask Duke in an obsequious tone. "I know you're hungry after all that."
"Shut up," he answered gruffly, indicating the bitter mood the meeting with the educated negro had left him in. "Jist bring me the whiskey."
The others remained quiet, knowing full well they dare not cross their leader at this moment. They had seen him in moods of this nature before and knew the violence he was capable of when aroused as he was now. He had been humiliated and defeated in front of them in a contest not of his own choosing and this did not sit lightly with one of his pride and position. He was accustomed to leading and not being led and this world had ended for him this afternoon. Ended with a sudden and cruel realization that now he was one of them, a Shorty, a Stitch, a Coke, with no more control over his own kind than the new breed chose to allow him.
Susan sat and watched him drink, growing more alarmed at his increasing intoxication as the evening wore on. The others sat quietly at the table in the corner playing cards for matches and talking in low whispering tones that were not audible from across the dimly lit room. They too were drinking heavily from another bottle on their table. The negress, Jodie, sat patiently by Duke's side, periodically filling his empty glass and drinking along with him. Stitch tended the fire that filled the almost silent room with eerie flickering shadows and created an unreal atmosphere that hung over the tiny shack like death itself. It reminded Susan of the silent and thoughtful campfires of the civil war that she had read about when men knowing they would die tomorrow in a planned attack busied themselves as best they could. Some in thought, some in other small ways that kept their mind from what was ahead on the all too near tomorrow. She could see it affected Duke that way and perhaps the others too but they did not show it except in their silent concentration on the game before them which she knew belied their real thoughts. They had plans for her tonight again. She could tell by their sudden muffled chatter and the furtive glances they would then cast her way as she sat in the chair at Duke's side away from the negress. She was grateful for the tall glass of whiskey he had silently poured her earlier and drank heavily from it, periodically refilling it as it emptied. It helped and she knew she could not have stood the awful waiting and strain until Duke made some kind of move to indicate what her fate was going to be for the evening. She knew too that the thought had been on his mind. If he took her tonight he would have the wrath of the negress to deal with, but if he didn't, he knew he would have to give her to the others. Her eyes had wandered once to the far corner of the room to the filthy bed where they had raped and ravished her so long and so brutally last night and she found herself muttering a silent prayer that he wouldn't let them do that to her again. She just could not stand it, no matter what she had to do.
"It's gitting late, baby," the negress suddenly broke the heavy silence, and touched Duke's arm. "Let's me and you go git in the bed."
Duke remained silent but it brought response from the others. Coke, obviously selected to be their spokesman, rose and walked over behind Susan's chair. He placed a hand on her trembling shoulder and spoke haltingly to the leader.
"Man, you got Jodie tonight, ain't no reason we cain't have the honky again, is there?"
Duke looked up at him and for the first time since the meeting had ended several hours earlier smiled.
"Yeah, man, theah's a reason," he said drunkenly. "She's sleepin' in my pad tonight."
Susan's heart skipped a beat and a sudden strange feeling of relief ran through her shaking body. It wasn't much, but at least she wouldn't be raped by all three of the others tonight. It was a shallow victory but one that under the circumstances was an important one.
"Baby," the negress on the other side of him pleaded in disbelief. "You cain't mean that. That's a honky bitch and we've all swore we'd kill 'em all."
"Shut up," he said angrily without looking at her. "When I say the word, don't you or no body question it."
"But, baby," she whimpered next to him. "We bin together a long time and done a lot."
"Shut up, I said," Duke snarled and slapped her hard across the face. "Ya heard my decision."
The negress sat with a stunned expression for a moment, hurt registering in her eyes and then… without the slightest warning… leaped panther-like across the table knocking the surprised Susan to the rough pine board floor with a crash. Her hands tangled wildly in her hair pulling savagely at it as though her very life depended on it. Susan tried to fight back but it was hopeless. The girl in her insane jealousy possessed the strength of a demon and scratched and bit at the shrieking white girl until Susan thought it would never end. It seemed an eternity but was only an instant until the shouting Duke wrenched the half crazed negress from her and threw her brutally across the room. She landed with a dull thud against the wall and lay sobbing out her misery in a piteous heap on the floor as the enraged Duke stood protectively over the trembling body of Susan ten feet away.
He glared over at the limp and quivering form of the negress as though contemplating the worst of all possible punishments and then snarled to the others so that the sobbing Jodie could hear: "You guys got 'er tonight," he said venomously, and then added, "Stitch, you first."
The light skinned negress' head raised from the floor, tears streaming down her face in utter disbelief. Her mouth gaped open in pain from the blow she had received when she hit the wall and she tried to speak but could only manage a piteous moan.
"B-baby, n-no, please not him, please."
But the combination of the frustration and humiliation Duke had gone through and the rebellion against his authority by her vicious attack on the white girl dulled his sense of mercy and he shouted at the disbelieving Stitch again.
"Fuck 'er you stupid son-uf-a-bitch, she's all yours."
There was no need for a second invitation. The imbecilic negro, spittle running from the corner of his mouth, covered the short distance between him and the prostrate girl with a single leap across the floor and landed heavily on her stomach, crushing the breath from her with a loud "ooomph". She tried to twist beneath him to escape but the suddenness and intensity of the attack was too much for the stunned Jodie and she lay writhing and twisting beneath his already humping body without the slightest chance of escape. Too much had been built up in his frustrated mind to lose the prize that was prostrate and helpless beneath him now. He had missed the white girl when all the others had had her and he had to be satisfied with masturbating over her ravished and beaten body. But now it was different, now he had something that he could vent his long smoldering lust upon. Something that he had always thought untouchable, and that thought incited his vicious attack all the more. It was the leader's girl, the one who had always lorded it over him and teased him in his idiotic ignorance and driven him half insane with her promised touches to his arm or a secret smile that she had given, safe in the knowledge that he would never dare touch her as long as she was Duke's girl.
But now, now it had changed. She was a Sheik's favorite suddenly thrown in anger to the camel drivers whom she had teased and tormented from afar for so long.
Susan watched in terror from the position in which she had fallen from the attack a few moments before. She wanted to cry out and help the girl but could not. It had all happened so suddenly and without warning that she was not really certain what was going on around her. Her mind would not work and she lay frozen, eyes agape at the terrible spectacle transpiring before her horror-stricken face.
The half-crazed Stitch, eyes bulging from uncontrolled animal lust, pulled the negress' half resisting body up to him and slammed his large thick rubbery lips on hers. It was savage and brutal and the tan skinned girl slipped away with the strength of a sudden burst of fear. He slapped her then, his face hard and vicious. The blow landed across her mouth with such force that she fell back to the floor her head hitting with a loud thud that resounded across the room like a cannon shot. Susan thought surely she must be unconscious, but the still struggling girl even then slipped from his grasp and was half-way to her knees before he caught her.
His second blow landed at the side of her head and was with his full balled fist. Her head jolted to the side crazily and she managed a half intelligible plea from between loose half-conscious lips.
"Duke, baby, don't let 'em, don't let 'em do it to me."
Susan looked to him, a silent plea for the negress in her own eyes but it was useless. She had picked the wrong time to question him and her punishment was final. He would not have interfered now even if he had wanted to, it was their law and could not be changed.
Stitch hit her again as the others watched gleefully from the distance of the other side of the room. They knew their turn would come soon with the luscious, haughty bitch who had lived under Duke's protection for so long and they would take their full measure of revenge like so many jackals feasting upon the remains of a once proud but wounded lioness.
Her body was half limp now and Susan watched in stunned horror as the crazed Stitch, frothing at the mouth from his passion began brutally tearing at her clothes. The half insensible girl did not stand a chance as her blouse and bra were brutally ripped from her still struggling body. Her full tan breasts fell free from the tight restricting binding and quivered nakedly in the air. She tried to rise but he smashed her back to the floor again, hooking his fingers in the top of her tight fitting slacks and ripping them down over her wildly thrashing ankles to the floor. Another vicious blow to the face stilled her for a moment and his hands tore the last of her protective clothing, her white nylon panties, from her with a body with a sadistic jerk. She was completely naked now and helpless before the brutal attack and lay almost lifeless beneath the jet black negro, her tan skin contrasting obscenely in the dim flickering light of the fire.
There was no resistance left but the pent-up passion of the dim-witted negro roared on. He rolled her to her stomach flat on the floor and muttering vague and unintelligible obscenities kneaded and tore at the soft yielding flesh of her buttocks, her back, and her thighs, with an insane intensity that brought tears to Susan's gaping eyes.
And then, with a savage jerk of her shoulder, he rolled her over again on her back and forced her legs brutally apart. He kneeled up for a moment between her full coffee colored thighs, dropping his pants to his knees with a quick movement of his hand, and then fell forward crushing her tan body with an animal-like grunt hard down into the floor.
Their feet were facing Susan not more than three feet away and her eyes were centered on the wide split crevice of the helpless girl's vagina, the smooth pink flesh of the stretched opening presenting a quivering and unimpeded target of soft wetness in a sparse forest of jet black pubic hair. Her buttocks were smashed flat to the rough pine-board floor beneath, with his monstrous thick black cock insinuated down between the crevice that split the smooth, full rounded moons. The large oversized, bulbous head touched the floor beneath and Susan was close enough that she could see it was wet and sticky where his seminal fluid had seeped out the narrow opening at the tip in his wild excitement of the rape of the untouchable beauty that had been thrown to him so unexpectedly a few short seconds ago.
He wasted no time with preliminaries and the horrified white girl lying prostrate at the couples feet gasped as she saw the muscles of his ebony buttocks tighten as they lifted high in the air over the up-turned loins of the moaning and pleading negress. It poised at the wet wide stretched opening of her visibly palpitating cunt for what seemed an eternity, and then jerked forward brutally to disappear between the soft, fleshy, down covered folds between her legs with a wet slithering rush that brought a long painful scream from the spread-eagle girl.
"Aaaaaaaaaaghhhhh!"
A chill ran the full length of Susan's spine causing her body to jerk spasmodically on the floor where she had not moved since the negress had smashed her there in her jealous rage a century ago. Her mouth gaped open and her eyes widened, half in revulsion and half in a sudden obscene memory that flooded through her mind without warning. She was standing at the door of her mother's bedroom again and peering in at the horrible lewd spectacle of her fiancee's father spearing into her own shameless mother's hungry nibbling vagina, except this time the broad thick penis pistoning into the wide-spread loins before her eyes was jet black and the buttocks jiggling beneath its vicious attack were young, firm, and tan. But the setting was the same, only this time she was closer and could see with all too vivid clarity the giant cock sink to the hilt and disappear into the pink slit between the cruelly spread thighs, until only a tiny little stretch of it was still visible, black and moistly glistening beneath the huge black balls that dangled sperm-filled and bloated down from the crevice of the negro's ass.
Susan was too horrified to make a sound but moaned beneath her breath as the imbecilic Stitch lay still, soaking the full length of his giant throbbing cock inside the moist softness of the girl's quivering belly for a few tortuous seconds, and then with a deep throated groan born of animal lust began to fuck her savagely with long hard strokes that carried the full monstrous length of his prick. The helplessly impaled mulatto girl groaned and writhed painfully beneath the driving force of the negro's pounding body as he reached down her legs under her knees and pulled up viciously, bending her thighs all the way back to her shoulders to give him greater access to the open wet entrance of her cunt. Jodie choked and sputtered beneath him in agony and the sudden humiliation of being thrown to the gang idiot like this to be used and raped as his dim-witted mind dictated.
A moment ago, she had been a proud and untouchable queen, the girl of the ghetto leader, but now she was just another piece of female flesh that would from now on be passed among them to be fucked and used as each of them in turn would so desire and when they would desire. Her humiliation knew no bounds and she grunted and moaned beneath her wildly pumping attacker as though the world had suddenly ended.
"Duke, baby, noooooo, make him stop. God, make him stop!"
Her face was contorted in pained disbelief at her sudden fall into the depths of gang whoredom from which she could never return. Her long black silky hair flailed from side to side on the rough dirty floor, tiny mewling pleas for mercy and relief from the pain and humiliation rolling from her tortured lips. But Duke ignored her and sat silent. He had spoken and there was no more to be said.
"Ohhhh God, Duke, Duke, stop him, stop him," she moaned on as the black glistening body between her legs began to fuck into her with greater and greater desperation.
"Shut up," Duke finally snarled dowel at her twisting and struggling form. "Let 'em fuck ya."
"Nooooo, noooo," she screamed, hearing his words above the wildly panting mouth at her ear. "Not this idiot, not this idiot."
But her pleas and shouts were suddenly cut brutally short by a hand smashing across her face as Stitch heard through his inflamed passion the insults leaping from her lips. He crushed this thick rubbery mouth tight down over hers drowning out with a wet slobbering finality the further screams building in her throat. He dug his fingers cruelly and hard into the firm large mounds of her breasts and Susan thought surely he was going to kill the girl from the back breaking position into which he was forcing her with greater and greater strength.
She was bent nearly double now, with her knees scraping painfully into the roughness of the floor back over shoulders. His long thick cock pistoned like a log into the ever expanding softness of her cunt and Susan could hear the harsh slap of his sperm inflated balls beating a lewd and orgasm building rhythm against the tight tiny anus nestled in the crevice below her filled and battered vagina. She tried to close the sound from her ears but it would not go. She tried to close her eyes and shut off the sight of the horrible ravishment taking place so close in front of her but they flickered open again involuntarily hypnotized by the bestial assault.
The demented negro began to go wild now with passion and sadistic delight at the same time. He twisted and turned her body beneath him like a limp rag-doll as he fucked into her with ever increasing speed and vigor, smashing the softness of her naked and open body hard down into the rough dirty boards of the floor until Susan thought he would drive her completely through it. His hands pinched and pulled at her as she twisted and squirmed to escape the pain. His face above her was contorted into a wild mask of sadistic lust as his cock battered into her machine gun like, expanding and growing to ever horrifying proportions before the bulging eyes of the cringing white girl peering up between his legs at the rigid column of wet, pistoning black flesh.
Susan held her breath and gasped as she watched the tiny folds of pink flesh of the squirming Jodie's vagina withdrawing and sinking wetly back inside again with each brutal thrust the crazed negro made into her.
And then, her heart suddenly stopped, as she heard a low animal-like groan suddenly erupt from deep in the throat of the pumping Stitch and his rigid black pole of flesh skewing madly into the helpless girl beneath him began throbbing out its lewd hot liquid deep inside her quivering cunt.
Susan could see it jerking forward and tunnel its way as deep inside the moaning and pleading Jodie as it could go to plant its sperm deep, deep up inside her. She could see the obscene white liquid of his pent-up passion bubbling up and overflowing out around his tightly sheathed cock and down the wide-spread crevice of Jodie's buttocks.
Her legs kicked out helplessly in the air on either side of him and fell limply to the floor. It was over and there was no more reason to resist. It had been done and nothing could take it back. The exhausted Stitch lay collapsed heavily for a moment across her unresisting body, soaking his slowly deflating penis in the liquid depths of her cunt that he had filled completely a moment before. And then he slowly rose to his feet, pulling his pants up and buckling them as he did. His eyes were still locked on the tan Goddess lying limply on the floor and they reflected the disbelief that still lingered that such a prize had been thrown to him so quickly and without warning. One moment she had been untouchable, and the next she was lying beneath his pounding hips with her legs split wide apart like any other piece of tail he had ever had, except infinitely better.
Jodie lay exactly as he had left her. Not caring about a thing. Her world had been destroyed in that sudden rush of decision by Duke to throw her to the others. Nothing mattered anymore and she lay with her legs wide apart and the raw pink crevice between her thighs open and her body naked to the eyes of all surrounding her in the dim light of the room. Susan could see the contempt on Duke's face as he calmly watched the battered and used body of the girl he had protected and called his own until a few moments before. There was no compassion in his eyes now and Susan sensed that tonight he was destroying all that he was leaving behind before he began the horrible holocaust that would result from his actions tomorrow in the ghetto. He had changed in the last hours since the meeting with the well educated and smooth talking negro who had made him look such a fool in the eyes of his own companions and Susan found her self no longer able to judge him as she had before. She knew he was going to demand things from her and she had prepared herself for that knowing that she had no choice other than to submit again to the others as she had last night. But now, now she was frightened more of him in the state of mind he was in at this moment. There was no telling what he would do to her in his sudden anger with the world.
There was a groan from the floor.
The naked tan body had moved and seemed to come back to life. Her head was raised from the floor and she was looking at the drunken Duke sitting in his chair at the table with hate filled eyes. Her mouth was contorted in an animalistic snarl that reeked of cold contempt.
"You weak-livered son-of-bitch," she spat up at him in her anguish. "You want that honky, you take that honky. But I'm gonna get her. I'm gonna make her pay like she ain't never paid before."
She lay for a second longer staling coldly through the distance that separated them and then slowly lifted herself from the floor. It was then that Susan could see how beautifully built the girl really was. It was a strong animal kind of body whose tight muscles rippled faintly under the thin tan skin that those of her kind always have and yet did not destroy the illusion of a perfect and soft femininity that appeared as though it would break if touched too hard. She was lithe and strong like a cat and had full ripe breasts that protruded out from her chest like two ripe succulent cantaloupes. Her waist was narrow and flowered out below to full boned hips that coupled with the firm, full roundness of her well formed thighs presented the most delectable picture of animal sensuality that Susan had ever seen. Her black flashing eyes added to the mysterious beauty she possessed but their hatred and the horrible threats spewing from her venom-filled mouth sent a cold chill of foreboding rippling through Susan's body. She knew the girl in her wild uncontrolled anger would go to any lengths to take her revenge on her if she got the slightest opportunity and her sole chance of survive all revolved back to Duke again. She had to stick to him at all costs now as her very life would be in danger if the fallen and humiliated negress ever got her under her control for even a second.
Involuntarily she found her hand snaking across the floor by her side and closing over the sitting Duke's ankle. Her fingers closed around it in a silent prayer for protection from the hate-filled eyes of the dethroned negress glaring at her. There was no one else to turn to, she had to hang on to him no matter what kind of humiliation and degradation she would be exposed to. He was the only one with the strength and power to save her now.
Duke smiled to himself through the haze of the alcohol as he felt the sudden pressure against the sides of his ankle. He knew instinctively what it took to bring a girl to her knees whether they were white or black. They were all the same and give them a little competition mixed with fear and they would come around. He had done this before between girls of his own kind and it had never failed. The anger of the one losing favor with the leader always drove the other into a dependency on him that she could not control.
And now it had worked again.
The little white bitch was groveling at his feet out of sheer terror of what would happen to her if he let the vanquished negress get at her. He would enjoy her tonight. Yes, he would take all she had to give and then some. After all, she was one of them who put him in the position he was in today. She was a honky and he kept telling himself he shouldn't forget that in spite of the softness he felt toward her. She was the enemy against which he would be going to war tomorrow and he couldn't let emotion interfere. But, even as the thoughts ran through his mind, he knew emotion would enter into it. She evoked a certain gentleness in him that he had never really felt before and he couldn't quite understand it. There had never been room in his life for this kind of weakness and he found it disconcerting to him. It had almost torn him apart last night when he had lain in the bed in the other room and listened to her piteous cries and squeals as his companions had fucked her until she couldn't walk but he had dared not interfere. He had lost her for that night in a game of his own choosing and the tight knit honor code that bound him and the others together would not permit him to refuse the stakes he had lost. But, he would not make that mistake again. She was his now for as long as he could keep her here. Jodie could keep the others happy for awhile and he would not have to worry about them. He was certain they had been looking forward to it for a long time the way she had teased them and all. They would be happy to really put it to her for a change. He knew they wouldn't be easy on her but it didn't really matter now. Nothing mattered anymore with what he had to do tomorrow. He was starting a war that would not end for years to come and was certain to lead to the total destruction of his people. The honkies weren't going to stand by and see Chicago, New York, and all the other big cities burned to the ground without getting mad and killing somebody. And… the thing that angered him most was the smooth talking bastard who had planned out the whole thing would be off safe in Detroit or somewhere where the action wasn't taking place. It was the people like himself that were going to die. Those that were too stupid to do anything else but be down where all the fire was going to be. He felt as though he were being used as he had never been used before in his life and also knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. A guy had to know about laws and going down to Cuba and places like that to get money and how to make speeches to get people angry so they would fight and die for something they were going to get anyway if they just waited a little while longer. He could do none of these things and he knew it. He could set up a heist on a corner grocery store or a parked beer truck and he could use a shive like no one else, but, that was all he could do. His usefulness in this new world had almost ended. Tomorrow would be his final act and he would be doing the only thing he knew how to do well.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the tightening of the white girl's hand around his ankle on the floor. He looked up and could see the snarling face of the half crouched Jodie glaring through the distance over at her. She was ready to spring again at the cringing Susan though her legs were wobbly and the strength was almost gone from her body from the vicious screw she had just been given by the demented Stitch.
Duke spoke quickly.
"Git 'er, Shorty, fast," he commanded.
There was no hesitation and Shorty's body hurtled instantaneously across the room, intercepting the angered negress before she left her feet. They landed in an entangled heap in the center of the room with a loud crash. There was another "Oooomph" from the pain-wracked lips of Jodie as Shorty's full weight came dowel directly on top of her naked body. She jerked for a moment beneath him and then lay limp, totally devoid of all strength and power to resist.
He sat up on top of her, an expectant grin playing lewdly across his fat thick lips. He too had waited a long time until Duke tired of this haughty little bitch and threw her open to the others. She had swished her teasing little ass around too much showing them what she had and knowing full well she wouldn't have to pass it around. Well, by God, now she'd get hers. He had often thought of those tight little well formed tan lips closing over the head of his long black cock and what a picture it would make.
Well, now he was going to see. He was going to make her suck him until she made him cum like a bull in that proud little mouth that had been too good for him and the others while Duke was protecting her. He felt a sudden jerk beneath his pants as he visualized her swallowing his hot warm load as he spewed it all the way down her throat. He reached down and ran his hands greedily over her neck, feeling the smooth tight hollows giving before the slight pressure he exerted. He circled his thumbs up over the full sensuous lips and pushed them gently apart to see the pink moist flesh of her tongue that would soon be circling around the hardness of his throbbing black penis like that of a coiling cobra.
Susan could see his eyes burning in a lewd reflection of lust that again made her body tremble for the safety of the poor girl trapped beneath the weight of his thighs. She knew she should be grateful for the attack she had just been saved from but her mind would just not accept the horrible and crude thought of what was about to happen to the negro girl again. Her civilized training repelled the thought even though she was an avowed enemy that would have no more mercy upon her than a hungry she-wolf if she ever got her under her control.
"Now, baby," she heard Shorty chuckle evilly down into the prostrate Jodie's face. "You and me gonna play games like you ain't nevah played before."
The limp body of the negress shuddered even as she lay limp beneath him. There was a certain horrified acceptance in her face because she knew there was no hope whatever of escape from the hopeless position she was in. Besides she had already been humiliated and defiled by the gang idiot to the point where nothing else mattered much. It could never be as bad as it had when she had to lay there and let him pump his lewd sperm deep up in her belly just like any common street whore that he had bought for a dollar down in the ghetto.
No… further resistance was useless. She had lost her protector and perhaps it was better to please as best she could to get them on her side for the revenge that she vowed to herself was going to follow.
She had to get that little white bitch if it was the last thing she ever did in the world. She was the one who had toppled her position as queen of the gang and made her end up as being nothing more than a sadistic screw for those members of the gang that had been so inferior to her before and would never have dared touch her if the white bitch had not taken Duke from her.
Yes, she would give it to them, all they wanted and how they wanted it, but she would take her revenge when she got the chance she knew was bound to come if she waited long enough. She would make the sweet little honky wench suffer as she was suffering now and know the indignities she was going through. There would be no mercy when her turn came and she would make certain she got it good, good and hard, right up to her white little tits.
"You better be good, Jodie," Shorty was sneering above her. "You bin a hot little pants jist waitin' for me, ain'cha?"
She glowered up at him with eyes of contempt and he reached down behind him and put his hands backwards between her thighs and forced them slowly apart. She let herself go, opening her legs before his harsh pressure and gritting her teeth trying to hold back the scream of revulsion building within her. He ran the tip of his finger up the slit of her vagina, still moist from the fucking Stitch had given to her a short while ago. She just lay still and let him do it to her.
"You ain't fightin' no more, baby," he leered down at her. "Ole Shorty gittin' to ya?"
The negress closed her eyes from the pressure against the sensitive lips of her cunt and her face was impassive as though she wished she were dead at this very moment. The negro sitting across her naked stomach ran his hands gently, almost reverently over her hips and belly and then suddenly lost control and squeezed them with a cruel hard force that brought a sudden squeal from her lips.
"Man, I never expected to git any o' this so soon," he grinned down at her nakedness beneath him. "But I ain't gonna fuck ya where Stitch done shot into ya. Baby, you gonna suck me till it runs outta ya ears."
His head dropped suddenly and he bit hard into the round softness of her breast. His teeth sunk cruelly into her firm flesh making her jerk and squeal again. He laughed at her sudden pain and moved his mouth down over the smooth flatness of her belly biting into the softness of her skin all along the way.
Susan watched with a vague detachment now. She had felt horror for so long that it was no longer horror and there was nothing she could do but lay still and watch.
The negress was squirming in earnest now attempting to escape the sharp nipping teeth biting into her. She pushed at the muscular negro's head with all her remaining strength but it was useless. He, like the imbecilic Stitch, had waited too long and the prize of taking this haughty young bitch wasn't going to pass through his hands now.
He leaned up above her and looked down again at her naked flesh stretched beneath. His hands ran up over the narrowness of her waist and massaged at the firmness of her breasts again. It was obvious he was enjoying her torment beneath him and was delaying the final moment as long as he could hold out. He leaned back on his haunches and looked up and down the length of her tan body again. A slight gasp came from his lips as the full lovely symmetry registered in his gaping eyes. It reminded him, on a slightly slimmer and more muscular scale, of the white girl he had had with Coke last night except that Coke had got the sucking then. Now it was his turn to sink it between a set of warm soft lips and blow his balls deep down in her throat. This one would be particularly satisfying, he thought as he felt a hollow longing feeling begin deep in his testicles.
Jodie lay limp now that his teeth were no longer tearing into her flesh. There was a look of resignation on her face that indicated she had resigned herself to accepting the degradations he was about to subject her body to. She hardly knew he was there now and the only thoughts that ran through her mind were of what she would do to the little white honky bitch that had gotten her into this degrading situation. Her lips curled at the corners of her mouth and a grim animal hatred registered in her eyes as the thoughts raced through her mind faster and faster. There was nothing that would be too good for the white bitch and she would make certain with all her being that she suffered like she had never suffered before.
Shorty stood up and began stripping the clothes from his short ape-like body.
"Baby, this is gonna take a long time," he smiled arrogantly down at her. "So you jist relax and enjoy it."
He was naked now and stood above her with his long black cock standing straight out from his belly.
"Git up," he suddenly growled at her. "I wanna see what ole Duke's been gittin' all this time before I mess it all up."
The negress rose shakily to her feet without hesitation. She knew better than to fight now, that would come later when she was ill a better position. Revenge against the white girl thundered through her mind as the short stocky negro turned her around and around pinching here and there at particularly sensitive spots on her body and bringing slight winces of pain from her lips. His mouth and eyes gloated lustfully on the provocative curves that had taunted him for so long and now were within his grasp.
He reached out with his arm and pulled her to him running his hands down over the full firmness of her breasts, up and down the sides of her waist and full flaring hips, over her rounded ass and thighs until he could stand his own sadistic teasing no longer.
His hands reached up and tangled cruelly in her black silken hair and he forced her protestingly down on her knees in front of him. Her face was held directly in front of the long rigid cock cleaving out from has belly. There was a strained grimace on her face and her eyes were open wide as she saw it slowly moving under the tip of her nose toward her lips. The short squat negro grinned like an evil devil above her and rubbed the warm moist head stickily around the sides of face and cheeks as he maintained the steel tight grip in her hair with his straining hands.
Susan watched the girl's proud black eyes that had flashed in strength and anger such a short time ago close in bitter humiliated subjugation as she felt the obscene, sticky prick rubbing over the softness of her facial flesh.
"Open your mouth," the negro hissed down at her. She hesitated for a moment and he jerked his hands in her hair causing a short gasp of pain to slip from lips.
He pressed forward as they opened to emit a soulful cry and brushed the head gently back and forth against their wet lip-stick covered softness. She started to cry again but it came out muffled and low as he pushed the sound back down her throat with the throbbing head of his cock.
"Now suck on it, ya bitch," he gloated from above the top of her head. "Git with it and suck, baby. Them lil lips of yours ain't too good for it any more."
His hands tightened in her hair again and his lips bared back over the whiteness of his teeth as he pulled her face slowly forward, sliding the warm moist flesh of her saliva filled mouth over his throbbing cock.
"Suck," he hissed again, warning this time in his voice.
Her lips began to nibble slightly on it from fear of the pain that would come if they did not. Susan could see the sudden change in the snarling black face standing over the kneeling girl as he felt the first moist suction begin around his rapidly growing prick. His eyes bulged down as he watched the now subjugated girl's working mouth hollowing around his long black column protruding into it. Susan trembled again as she remembered through her tortured mind the long black instrument that had spewed its hot lewd sperm into her own tortured mouth last night and found herself moaning again under her breath in sympathy with the negress kneeling like a slave now before the dark undulating hips of the squat muscular negro.
He ripped at her hair again.
"Suck it harder, baby," he commanded with a deep throated growl. "Put some skin around it."
Her tongue tangled around him bringing another deep throated groan from his lips. The girl began to work now as though she enjoyed it and her tongue, lips, and teeth all pressed close and moist around him until Susan could see his shining black buttocks tense together as he jerked forward deeper into the warm soft cavern of the girl's hot moist mouth.
"Oooooohhh, baby, that's it, baby. Suck it, suck it," he chanted above her bobbing head as she let herself go completely to end it as soon as she could.
His hands snaked around the sides of her head now, stroking at the soft black silkiness of her hair and pulling and teasing at the lobes of her ears. His hips jerked back and forth wildly before her now uninhibited attack on his genitals and he moaned and muttered obscene filthy phrases down at her at the same time, making her move faster with his hands.
Susan watched helplessly, her hand tightening around Duke's ankle in a silent prayer for protection from the horrible things that could happen to her if the other three negroes were to get their hands on her again. Terrible and sickening memories of the things they had done to her helpless and open body last night flickered through her mind in an unending train of obscene pictures of what her own full white body must have looked like as she had been buffeted between the short squat, Shorty, now fucking the kneeling negress in the mouth, and the lean muscular Coke who was leaning against the wall stroking his hardened penis in his hands as he excitedly waited his turn with the proud, fallen queen of the gang. She found herself even longing for the moment she knew would come when he would take her from the room and begin doing those horrible things to her that all the others were waiting there turn for on the helpless Jodie. At least, it would get her out of this terrible room and away from the lewd licentious scene transpiring now before her. She didn't know if she could take much more of it without becoming sick. Anything would be better than this, even submitting to Duke.
There was another groan from the ecstatic face of the squat negro as the kneeling tan girl sucked at his cock like a hungry calf feeding from a mother cow. The smooth hard texture filled her mouth to the bursting point as it expanded with each passing thrust into her warm wet cavern but she tried not think about that. She concentrated on the punishment she would mete out later when her chance came with the honky girl. Lewd and bizarre punishments ran through her mind at a rapid pace and it was only when the humping negro screwing her in the mouth would give an extra hard tug on her hair that her thoughts would return to the subservient task she was performing.
He kept skewering further and further into her mouth so that she could feel the hard rubbery tip of the head of his cock grazing smoothly against the back of her throat. Her mouth was filled with warm moist saliva and made a smooth hot sheath around the monstrous instrument as it pummeled faster and faster into her face. His huge black balls beat a steady rhythm of lust and passion against the tip of her chin and she could feel him all wet there where some of the saliva in her totally filled mouth had drooled down from her lips and moistened the whole of her lower face.
The ape-like Shorty was looking down at her now with a lust contorted face that glistened of savage desire as he felt her begin to suck him with a moist, nibbling, sucking motion as he crushed his sweating loins at her face and ground his fingers cruelly into the side of her head. He wanted this proud little bitch that had been putting them all on for so long to swallow it when he squirted his hot load in her mouth. He wanted to debase her completely for all the times he had wanted her and yet not dared touch her for fear of Duke's anger.
But now, now he had her where he had always wanted her and would bend her to his complete will if it was the last thing he ever did. In fact, it was even sweeter than he ever expected it could be because the fallen queen knew that Duke was watching her every move as she was forced to lick and suck like a common whore and that must have increased her humiliation and hurt no end. He crooned on his obscenities down at the top of her now wildly bobbing head as he watched with gleaming eyes the black flesh of his cock disappear into the tight oval hole formed by her full wide stretched lips and saw them clasping around it wetly like the lips of a vagina.
Her eyes were closed tight now in her shame and humiliation and his lunging cock felt as though it were being tormented by a thousand tiny needle-sharp pins stinging into it like a pin-cushion. There was a rush in his brain that sounded like the roar of a hundred waterfalls and he knew he could hold back no longer.
It had to be now!
He thrust his thick, glistening cock deep into her mouth and arched his pelvis forward toward her face, pressing at the same time against her cheeks with the tips of his fingers so that her mouth was tighter around it and he could feel the full force of it and expanding in the softness between her tongue and the roof of her mouth until a thousand electric sensations seemed to be pressing in on him all at once. He gripped her head between his hands with a savage jungle scream, feeling all his passion rushing from the warm haven of his testicles to the bloated head of his cock and rammed it deep with all his lust inspired power far into her throat.
She choked and sputtered for a single, long held minute, and then, he emitted a coarse, deep-throated moan and his hot sticky sperm shot in a thick warm jet deep into the confines of her open, sucking mouth. He held her head in front of him with a strong vice-like grip until he had emptied himself completely into the once proud queen's sperm filled mouth and then sank helplessly back onto the floor behind him.
His soft deflated cock slipped with a wet sucking noise from between her cum covered lips, a thin string-like trickle of white still connecting them together. The hollows of her throat worked for long moments afterwards, swallowing in great gulps the liquid white fluid he had creamed into her throat.
Susan's horrified mind was jerked suddenly from the lewd, obscene sight of the negro cumming into the helpless girl's mouth by a pair of hands that had reached under her armpits and were suddenly lifting her from the floor where she lay. She was half aware of being dragged across the rough pine board floor toward the bedroom where her dimly aware mind knew it was her turn to be fucked again into insensibility as she had been last night on the bed in the filthy unkempt bed in the corner. She started to scream but it was choked deep down inside her chest by the sudden realization that if she did it would only make matters worse. She half struggled to her feet to ease the pain of her legs scraping against the floor and half walked, half staggered, in the arms of the drunken now lust incited Duke to the bed where she knew she must pay her ticket to safety from the other two negroes who were even now lifting the prostrate form of the used and humiliated Jodie to the bed for further and even more obscene acts of sexual depravity.