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Cult of the Dead Cow 264
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...presents... Chicken Hawk
by Mark E. Dassad
>>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<<
-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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|____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____|
I'd been hunting chicken at the New York Port Authority for about six
months when I picked up Karen, fresh off the bus from Chicago, a runaway from
one of the rich 'burbs that circle that city. She wasn't really my type; she
was at LEAST 14, maybe 15. Long curly brown hair, almost frizzy really, a
handful of freckles splashed across her nose, and it was one of those damn
smashed little Irish pig noses, but at least her skin wasn't that awful dead
white like so many of them have. Big round firm tits; I could tell that even
with the expensive down jacket she was wearing, and she had a really tight
little ass, and slim hips, too slim for a girl. Hell, a woman. If they can
drop a kid, I say they're women.
I usually go for the younger ones, 11, 12 years old, nice blonde hair, big
and fleshy, that healthy farm look. When I'm in the mood for female flesh and
not boymeat, anyway. But I was in the mood for something different that
afternoon, and this girl, whose name she said was Karen, had runaway written
all over her, from her duffel bag to her nervous darting glance, like someone
was trailing her, and like she'd never been to New York before. Which she
hadn't. Shit, I'd bet my left nut she'd never even been to Chicago before she
changed buses there. But she looked athletic, and so damned upper-middle-
class, that I wanted her, BAD. The biggest part of my kick is making them
*come*, the prey, making them buck like they never knew they could, flopping
franticly like a fish out of water, shaking and twitching like they might never
have another orgasm in their insignificant little lives, as they gyrate, my fat
dick buried deep in their loins. The power, of making some punky little brat
writhe in ecstasy while they twist on the spit of their own pride and drown in
humiliation, making them KNOW in the pit of their groin and the base of their
brain that pain = pleasure = pain, and I'm their fucking GOD, because I control
it all, man, there's no bigger rush.
So I sidled up to her, I was dressed real nice, conservative little
blow-dry haircut, smelling sweet, looking like some college asshole, like I
always do when I'm out jailbaiting. The kids that think they're tough get this
idea I'll be an easy mark, and the stupid ones think I'm safer than the
sleazier-looking pimps who start salivating at the sight of fresh chicken. The
pimps hassled me at first for muscling in on their turf, but since I started
doing commission work for Nunzio's crowd, they leave me the hell alone. I
don't know what happens to these kids after I deliver them to Nunz' and I like
it that way. He's offered a couple times to let me in on a bigger piece of his
scene, but I get my kicks and he pays me a couple bills or more for each kid I
deliver, depending on how pretty they are to begin with and the condition I
deliver them in. I try not to mark them up too bad, though a couple times I've
gotten a little carried away. That kid Gary, I think he said he was on his Jr.
High wrestling team, from like Iowa or Ohio or Idaho or somewhere. Christ,
Nunz' didn't want to give me 50 bucks for that one after I'd had my fun... but
that's another story.
"Hey, good to see you!" I said to this ripe little Karen chick, taking
her arm and leading her to the down escalator. Startled and confused, she fell
into step with me. "Don't look back, honey," I whispered conspiratorially.
"Those two men, the PR in the overcoat with the gold tooth, and the black guy
with the hat, they're pimps." I glanced over my shoulder at Hector and Big
James and winked. "You want a burger?" I asked her. "You look hungry."
She smiled at me, perfect white teeth. Rich kid teeth. Braces, good
dental care. "I thought New Yorker's were supposed to be rude and unfriendly."
"I didn't grow up here," I smiled back at her, smiling inwardly to myself.
It was always so easy. "I'm from Delaware, but I'm studying social work at
Columbia. You looked lost, and those guys..." I shuddered, for effect.
We were at the coffee shop at street level by then; it was mid-afternoon,
still too early for the commuter crush, and I bought the girl a burger, some
fries, and a Coke. She told me her name was Karen then, and that she'd left
Chicago to find work; she wanted to be a writer, and New York was where you did
that kind of thing. I guess because she thought I was a social worker she felt
like telling me about herself. She said she was 19 (yeah, uh huh. And *I'm*
19 too..) and was tired of the Midwest "phoniness." Doris, the waitress at
this overpriced greasepit gave me the evil eye and dropped the plate with my
tuna sandwich from about two inches above the table so it landed with a crash.
I picked the limp lettuce off the day-old bun and swore at her.
"Christ, Doris, how many times I come in here I tell you no freakin' five
week old, limp, grey lettuce?!"
"So sue me," she muttered, her back to me as she walked back towards the
kitchen. "Is yer limp wrist too fuckin' weak ta pick it off?"
I wanted to hit her. I imagined her head exploding from the impact of a
baseball bat I'd swing straight and true at the base of her skull, bloody bits
of brain and bone shrapnel spattering all over the place, declaring my revenge.
Instead, I smiled at the girl, Karen.
"Hey, welcome to Noo Yawk, kid," I laid on my best Bronx accent for her.
She laughed out loud.
We ate, she talked a little, mostly about music, bands, MTV, stupid crap.
I asked her when she graduated high school and she stumbled, while she tried to
remember how old she'd said she was, and calculate what year she would have
graduated. She was pretty hungry, and wolfed that burger down.
"So listen, since you just arrived, why don't you come up to my place, you
can shower, read the paper for want ads, a place to stay." She looked kind of
nervous, so I babbled on. "You can shower or something if you want, freshen
up. I need to study, I have an exam tomorrow." God I was a good liar! I'd
been using this rap for a while though, had practice. The older ones, you have
to be pretty quick, some of them are smart. Before she knew what was
happening, we were in the lobby of Nunzio's hotel on 43rd and 8th, just across
from the bus station, over one of his "Adult Arcades." This Karen girl was
starting to look kind of scared; Times Square will do that to fresh meat; it
made her look a lot younger, and I was already getting hard thinking about all
the fun I was going to have between now and the time I handed her over to
Nunz's boys.
"It's not the greatest place," I reassured her in my best college asshole
jive. "Social workers don't make a lot, and this city'll kill you financially.
I'll probably move to Jersey after I get my degree, like everyone else."
She looked a little happier, but she didn't like the way Vito, the fat
slob that ran the desk days, was eyeballing her.
"Don't mind Vito," I said, as he handed me the key to my regular room they
kept available for me. I didn't pay any rent, it was a perk I got as an
'employee.' "There're plenty of worse creeps in this city than him." I
thought I heard Vito choking as we picked our way through the debris lining the
hallway.
I pushed her into the room ahead of me; it was dark, a windowless interior
room, and though the rest of the hotel reeked of puke and stale cum, I kept
this room clean. I had a real nice apartment in one of the better parts of
Brooklyn, but I spent a lot of time in the room, and I hate filth. I fumbled
with the light switch, pretending the bulb was burned out, while I reached in
the drawer of the little table next to the door for the morphine kit. I'd only
od'd a kid once after Big James, the black pimp I knew from cruising Port
Authority, put me onto the trick of doping up the kids to get them nice and
docile. Shit, one dead junkie runaway, more or less, in the Big Apple, nobody
cares. And you don't want to have to mark them up too bad, it spoils their
value for a good couple days, sometimes weeks. Plus, with them doped you don't
have to worry as much about getting kicked in the balls.
I popped her a hit in the butt, through her nice tight jeans, pretending
to stumble in the dark, as she yelped and started to get scared. I was done
being nice; I *had* the stupid little cunt now, right in my own damn hotel
room. Look, I make no apologies, this city eats morons alive. Darwinism in
it's purest form.
I bolted the door, locked the deadbolt and dropped the key into the drawer
where I kept my fix kit, flipped on the light switch and tackled the little
cheerleader poonie, throwing her onto her back on the bed that filled most of
the small room. Landing heavily on top of her, I pinned her arms above her
head and held her there while I slowly rolled my hips, grinding my crotch into
hers, through our heavy winter clothes. This little fox, she let out a
blood-curdling scream, but the locals weren't going to mind, and if they did
they weren't going to say anything.
I slapped her across the face, and smiled at her, enjoying the hand-shaped
mark that was blossoming on her left cheek. She screamed again, and started
crying. It was incredibly erotic.
"Why are you doing this?" she whimpered patheticly, the effects of the
dope making her weak and pliable as she made these hopeless attempts to free
her arms from my grip. I hadn't given her enough to put her out, though. I
like them feisty enough. It's no FUN if they don't scream and struggle a bit;
otherwise you might as well torture a corpse, and I'm not THAT sick.
I slapped her again, because I felt like it, and locked her arms in the
cuffs I had attached to permanent rings screwed into the wall just above the
head of the bed. She pulled against the restraints, and started really bawling
like a little kid then.
"Let me go," she sobbed, tears running across my handprints on her face.
"I'm not really 19, my parents are looking for me, you'll go to jail."
I just laughed at her. "Bitch, if you were REALLY 19 I wouldn't have
picked you up. What are you, 14? 15? I bet you're in high school already,
you're already older than *I* like." I was sitting up on her now, my butt
resting on her hips, straddling her. We were both still fully dressed, coats,
shoes and all. I shucked off my jacket and carefully placed it on the chair
next to the bed, and I pulled off my shoes which were muddying the bedspread
and placed them on the mat next to the chair. No matter. I always burned the
bedclothes after each one of these encounters anyway. I unzipped her down
jacket and pulled up the fluffy pink sweatshirt she was wearing, while she
squirmed and begged me to stop. With that damn jacket though, it wouldn't go
up very far, so I left her there and retrieved a pair of scissors from the
bathroom drawer.
She started crying again as I cut the expensive down jacket off of her, no
doubt worrying that her mom would kill her when she found out her new jacket
had been ruined. The thought of some rich bitch sitting in her kitchen in some
suburban mansion out of some John Hughes movie, fretting over her pumpkin's
whereabouts made me smile. I pulled the ruined garment off of Karen, trailing
feathers that I'd have to clean up later, and proceeded to hack off her fluffy
pink sweatshirt with the purple teddy bears. It might come in handy later, so
I folded it and placed it on top of my jacket on the chair. She was left
wearing just a bra from the waist up, and it wasn't much of a bra, her nipples
jutted sharply through the thin fabric, and it offered no support. I'm not
good at describing tits, I like girls without them, but these were pretty nice,
they were medium sized, just a little more than a handful, but they were firm,
not those disgusting sloppy wiggly kind, and they had a sprinkling of freckles
across the top where the sun must've hit them in the summer, like her nose. I
chopped at the contraption with the scissors and yanked it from her body and
tossed it into the waste basket next to the dresser.
I sat back a moment.
"Look at me, you little whore." I commanded her. When she didn't, I
pulled the hair on the top of her head so her neck was at a right angle to her
body and with my free hand I grabbed her left nipple and pulled up as far as it
would go. "If you don't open your eyes and look at me right now, I'm going to
cut this nipple right off." I didn't know if I really meant it, but it worked,
her eyes flew open and she stared straight at me, then at her extended nipple,
then back at me, her pupils dilated in terror.
"Now listen up," I told her. "You're MINE now, and you'll do what I say
as soon as I say it, or things will get ugly. I'm going to do whatever I feel
like doing to you, and by the time I'm done with you, you're going to beg me
hurt you, beg me to fuck you, and you'll really *mean* it."
Karen shook her head, and tears flowed from her face. "I won't," she
moaned. "You can't make me. My parents will find you, you'll go to jail."
I shrugged, and climbed off of her prone form. She moved lazily, the
morphine dulling her senses. Now was not the time to threaten pain; she
couldn't feel much of it, wouldn't for a few hours yet till the dope wore off.
Humiliation would still work though, just a plain old-fashioned rape. Time
later for the heavier stuff that would really get my 'nads pumping.
"You ever been fucked?" I asked her, as I pulled her shoes and socks off
and worked her pants down. She didn't struggle much, just whimpered. I
snipped the scissors above her precious titties every time she moved and that
quieted her down.
"Well?!" I barked at her. "Anybody stick their meat in your box?"
"Yes," she whispered.
I smiled, as I pulled her panties off, imagining someone just like me,
riding a younger version of this girl, imagined a big fat cock like mine
tearing into her fat, hairless, pre-pubescent pussy. Jesus, she was hairy now
though. I'd have to shave her before I'd be able to fuck her. Curly brown
hair covered her mound, though thankfully it didn't extend too far between her
legs.
"Who fucked you?" I asked conversationally, "Your big jock boyfriend?
Your daddy? The boys' gym teacher?"
I abruptly thrust two fingers into her tight dry cunt when she didn't
answer me, and she yelped and used her legs to push away from my probing
fingers. It was time to get serious. Using plenty of the silver duct tape I
bought in volume, I bent her legs at the knees, taping each leg in half, and
with a considerable amount of physical effort I managed to run a band of tape
around her midriff so that her legs were bound securely to her torso; her cunt,
asshole, and buttocks now lewdly exposed for my pleasure. I returned from the
bathroom with my shaving cream; menthol, it would burn a bit. I lathered up
her pussy and began scraping away all that disgusting evidence of her maturity.
She whimpered and moaned, asking me why I was doing it, complaining that I was
hurting her, that the shaving cream burned, but I noticed that her clit spasmed
involuntarily as I continued scraping, and I asked her again who had porked
her.
"You don't really want to make me mad when I have a razor at your pussy,
do you?" I asked her.
"Uncle Larry," she whispered.
"Uncle Larry," I repeated. "So Uncle Larry shoved his big hot dick into
your tight little box. Was he the first?" I asked her. She was sobbing
uncontrollably as I described her encounter with this relative. "Did he bust
your cherry?"
"N-n-no no no no no," she choked, "He he he... he let his fr.. his friend
Bob do it the very first time in my... in my... while he did it.... d-d-d-did
it in in in my m-m-m-mouth," she wailed.
It was an old story, I heard it from all these little pukes. Their father
or some uncle or neighbor or priest or rabbi or little league coach had been
poking them in one hole or other so they ran away from home.
"So Uncle Larry and his pal Bob took turns grinding your pussy while you
sucked the other one off. I bet you liked being a shish kebob, huh?"
"NO!" she screamed in denial, crying and twisting as I scraped at her
cuntlips with my razor. "I hate them, I hate you!"
"...twisting around with one fat dick jamming your tight little hole and
another one fucking your mouth." I continued on, ignoring her protests. "Your
uncle's big fat dick sliding down your throat, shooting his hot milky sperm
into your mouth, while his friend humped your horny little ass and came inside
you. Did anyone else ever get it wet in your cunt?" I slapped her now smooth,
naked mound playfully, wiping off the excess shaving cream with her ruined
sweatshirt. She was young enough; her cunt lips, thankfully, were not yet
swollen and sagging with the ravages of old age. There's nothing uglier than
an old pussy.
"No!" she wailed, her bottom lip quivering childishly, tears rolling down
her face, no doubt remembering her uncle's bone pistoning in and out of her
tight young twat while his friend's meat ravaged her wet, gaping mouth, choking
off her air passage. I heard that chicks come harder if they can't breathe
when they're being reamed. Time enough for that experiment later. I slipped
my fingers back into her pussy. Just as I expected, it was quite wet now as I
reminded her of her previous humiliation. It was always this way with the
slutty little brats I picked up. They swore they hated i at the same time they
were creaming all over themselves as they remembered being nailed; same way
with the boys. They'd tell me Uncle Ralph had poled out their butt every
Friday for three years, they'd scream that it hurt like hell when I stuffed
mine in for my share, but their dicks would be dancing against their bellies,
begging for more.
"Is this how much you hated it?" I pulled my fingers out of her box and
smeared her juices on her her upper lip. She twisted her head and shrieked in
revulsion. I leered into her face as she continued sobbing. "I bet you BEGGED
them to fuck you, I bet you slurped their dicks every chance you got, sucking
on their cocks and gulping down their hot sperm like it was your mother's
titty. I think you rub yourself every night thinking about big fat cocks
grinding into your cunt. I think you fucked your cunt back at your Uncle Larry
and imagined it was really your DADDY's dick inside you."
She was howling hysterically, sobbing wildly, thrashing her head from side
to side and twisting her bound body as much as she could, as I detailed my
version of her past, all the while her cunt continued to form it's juices, her
clitty twitching ever so gently in it's newfound nakedness. I had to have her
then, I'd gotten myself too hot, describing her childhood.
I pulled off my pants, folded them up and placed them on the dresser along
with my underpants and socks, though I left my shirt on, and quickly jumped on
the bed and mounted her. She wailed pitifully as my shaft sunk deep into her
teenaged cunt; I thrust hard and fast and deep, with such force that the crown
of her head slammed into the wall with a resounding thump, and she screamed
again at the shock.
Her pussy was tight enough; I had never found a virgin yet, and I'd fucked
girls as young as eight; but *this* girl's pussy was used to the feel of cock.
I was pretty sure from the way she sobbed as I described her Uncle and his
friend balling her that it had been a regular event, probably once or twice a
week, and she fucked me back, in spite of herself. I managed to catch a
violent rhythm, slamming into her, her agonized shrieks peaking each time the
swollen head of my dick traveled the length of her tight young cunt and banged
into the entrance to her womb, her back arching as her head slammed into the
wall. The other guests at this "adult hotel" knew better than to complain
about one of Nunzio's employee's making too much noise, even if it sounded like
someone was being dismembered.
She started climaxing then, whimpering and sobbing and thrusting back at
my driving thrusts as best she could, bound the way she was, her cunt spasming
around my turgid shaft pistoning between her legs, and I started to come then
too, and humped into her with all the force I could muster; she came, as
powerfully as any girl I'd ever fucked up to that moment. It felt as if her
twat was literally sucking the cum right out of my nuts as I shot load after
sticky load of my jism deep into her steaming box. I pulled out of her as soon
as I had shot my last load, and standing naked from the waste down, my dick
slowly softening, I cut the duct tape to free her legs, ripping it from her
body in several passes, smiling as she screamed at the fiery pain of her flesh
seemingly torn from her body. I watched her belly and clit twitch again as this
last surge of pain caused another smaller orgasm to course through her body. I
wonder what cruel trick of biology causes pain and pleasure to be so easily
confused?
I showered, whistling some stupid television jingle, cleaning our mingled
juices from my body, and put on a new set of clothes. It was actually quite
some time since I'd first picked Karen up, and we would need some dinner, some
food to see us through the long night ahead.
I slapped her on the thigh as I left her there on the bed with her arms
still chained to the wall above the bed. "You're a pretty good lay, I guess
you've had a lot of practice." I gathered my coat and gloves, put on my shoes
and headed out the door. "I guess I'm not too bad either, from the way you
were flopping around on the end of my dick."
I stopped at the front desk on my way out to leave a message with Vito.
"Tell Sal Wednesday, any time after, say, 8am. 4 C. Kind of old." It was
Monday now. I'd have another day and a half to play; if I got bored, she would
keep till Sal came by to pick her up.
I showered lazily, thinking as best as I could with a raging boner and a
lot of speed still pumping around in my bloodstream. Nunzio's boys, Sal and
whoever Sal worked with, would be picking up the merchandise in another
twenty-four hours; I had reached the limit on what I could do to Karen that
wouldn't show. Kind of too bad, she had such soft creamy flesh, firm, but
smooth, it begged to be scratched and squeezed and poked. But hell, there
would be others, some of them I'd be willing to use up myself. Christmas was
coming up in another month and a half, I'd treat myself then. I needed the
cash on this baby.
Problem was, I'd really excited my blood lust; if I couldn't draw blood, I
still needed to hear the little cunt scream to keep me really hard, I needed
her twisting spastically, tortured beyond endurance, even while the juicy hole
between her legs sent jolt after agonizing jolt of pleasure coursing through
her limber young body.
It was going on seven, it seemed like I'd been filling my teen meat
forever. I got an idea. Almost as fun as physical torture is painful
humiliation. The Puerto Rican who ran the desk from midnight to eight would be
around for another hour still, and I happened to know that he let two fucked-up
homeless Vet buddies sleep in the boiler room. He'd given me the look a few
times, like he knew what business I was in, and like he didn't mind, so I
thought I'd try and pick up some spare change, give Karen some practice before
Nunz' put her to work doing God knows what. (... I don't know NOTHING...)
It was tough stuffing my monster woodie into my jeans, but I managed
somehow. I let the shower go cold, that helped.
Swaggering out to the lobby, jeans, white t-shirt, boots, I caught Ramon
napping. He was a dark little fucker; some of these PRs are hard to tell from
blacks; a lot of times it's the name that's the only clue. I leaned against
the counter, scratching at the stubble sprouting on my face, and drummed my
fingers. Ramon opened an eye to peer at me, unabashed at being found sleeping.
He didn't like me, he figured I was a goddamn *maricon*, because of the young
boys he'd seen me with, though he seemed to be confused by my "machismo".
"Whatchoo want, eh my man?" this guy scowled at me, for interrupting
his nap.
"Wondering, just wondering," I smiled at him, moved away so he could get a
load of my hard-on. My eyes were bright red, my pupils were about as big as
they can be, from all the crank, from being awake, and UP, for over twenty-four
hours now. "Wondering if you need some pussy. Chinga senorita?"
Ramon snorted at my fractured Spanish, but I caught his pupils dilate.
He was pretty cool, but some things you can't control.
"Young pussy?" he asked, tonelessly, as if not really interested, just
making conversation.
"Too young isn't legal," I kept my face flat, testing. You gotta be
careful, you don't know what'll set some guys off, like some you gotta be
careful; about family and sisters, they're all of them fucked up.
He looked away, at the TV set that was playing one of the morning shows.
"Ain't legal to spit in the subway either."
"No," I agreed, "it also ain't legal to fuck someone says they don't
want to," I added conversationally.
Ramon eyeballed me sideways, still mostly focussed on the TV. From where
I was standing, I could see his dick jump at my last statement. He had to know
about my "proclivities," as he'd been working nights as long as I'd been using
this hotel, and my "guests" made enough noise at times to wake the dead.
It took some cryptic haggling, but we finally agreed on $400 for him and
his two 'Nam buddies, for four hours or as long as they lasted, whichever came
first. With the condition that I got to watch, and participate if I felt like
it, which I doubted I would. "Seconds" doesn't appeal to me, sticking my dick
in some snatch that's already filled with another guy's jizz... GROSS! Though
I sure did still want to jack off in Karen's face, spit my cock-snot all over
her body, make her drink my cum.
A hundred of that $400 take had to go to pay Vito not to shoot his fat
ugly mouth off to Sal that I was pimping off Nunzio's goods to the help.
Though technically she wasn't Nunzio's till he paid up, I wasn't gonna argue
*contract law*, right of ownership, with these guys. It got me thinking again
about how it might be nice to start up my own business, let Nunz' in on it so's
not to get WHACKED, of course. The setup now though, it was low risk, and I
got plenty of fresh meat.
I went out for some breakfast, still contemplating my business
opportunities, finding some amusement watching the ants scurry around the
streets dragging bread crumbs to the queen in their briefcases, while I waited
for Ramon to get off work.
Karen was sleeping when I got back to the room around 8:30. She was lying
face down on the bed, her arms still cuffed to her waist, her hair splayed
about her shoulders, her legs spread, exposing her sore, swollen pussy lips. I
watched her sleep, noticing that her buttocks were dotted with small red marks
where my fingers had grabbed her in my fucking frenzy, her back streaked red
where my nails had scraped her. I smiled. The marks were fading already, now
a merry pink instead of angry red.
Smiling, I removed my boots and slipped off my jeans and underwear, to
release my swollen rod. I climbed on the bed and removed the harness binding
Karen's arms to her waist.
She lay completely unbound. "Free..."
Karen moaned, rousing slowly from her exhausted near-coma drowse, as I
rolled her over onto her back. She spread her legs reflexively now, and
without speaking to her, I looked deep into her eyes and lay my full weight on
her. She moaned as I entered her. I thrust my bone into her unresisting
depths, and she closed her eyes to look away from my face hovering over her as
I pinned her beneath me, grinding myself used box.
I grabbed Karen's head in my hands as I continued to gently rape her
nearly limp form. She was far too exhausted to struggle against my unwanted
attentions, not without more violent stimulation. For the moment I was content
to merely make her writhe emotionally.
"Look at me," I demanded.
Karen opened her eyes, the tears rolling down her face the only physical
acknowledgement that my meat was still stretching her interior, pushing
insistently between her spread legs.
"I'm only the third guy you've ever fucked, right?" I asked her as I
thrust myself vigorously into her. She closed her eyes and winced as my cock
hit home.
"Yes," she answered, more tears splashing from her eyes as she rocked
beneath my humping thrusts.
"Well today we're going to double the number of guys you've laid." I
smiled cruelly, as Karen started sniffling, then sobbing, as my meaning slowly
penetrated her sleep-deprived brain. She pushed her hands up against my chest,
perhaps finally realizing she was no longer bound.
I casually slapped her hands away, holding them pinned to the bed above
her head, as I began balling her more urgently. It pleased me, the way her
face reddened, her bottom lip quivering childishly as I fucked up into her,
harder and harder as my lust grew, tears flying from her face as she twisted
her head, trying to hide the pain my cock was administering to her abused
loins.
"Some friends of mine want some young pussy," I told her as I slammed
into her. "I told them what a horny little slut you are... " I moaned, trying
to maintain some control, my cock growing ever harder as I prepared to shoot
yet another load of cum into this choice little receptacle.
"... they're going to..." I grunted, rammed my meat harder and harder...
Karen sobbed out of control, exhausted, humiliated, her lower body on fire.
There was a timid knock on the door. I moaned loudly as I felt my nuts jerk
out of control.
"Ohhhhh......."
I spurted a small stream of cum into the babe beneath me, lying quietly on
top of her, clenching and unclenching my butt muscles, feeling her back arch as
my weight flattened her breasts.
"I told them what a little tramp you are," I pulled out of Karen, and
slapped her gumdrop-sized nipples so she squeaked in pain. With her hands free
she clutched at her breasts to try and ease the pain. "I told them how you've
been screwing and sucking your uncle and his friend, how you beg me to fuck you
really hard."
I grinned wolfishly as she lay meekly clutching her tits, her legs still
spread, her twat leaking my fluid.
There was another soft knock on the door; I flipped on the overhead light,
I wanted to really get a good view of the action I'd set up. I slipped on my
jeans and let in Ramon and the two bums who lived in the boiler room. It
looked like they'd showered, probably the maid had let them use one of the
rooms that she was cleaning. Miraculously, their clothes were clean. Ramon
handed me the four bills; I wondered where he'd come up with the cash; probably
knocked off a liquor store, maybe robbed a church, maybe it was just their
month's pooled VA checks. I didn't ask. I didn't care.
The taller, skinnier one looked like some black Jesus, long black curly
afro spinning away from his head at all angles, his beard and moustache thin
and ratty, no doubt from a lack of protein, bad diet. I had the good sense not
to ask if the guy was really black or just a PR, some guys are really touchy
about that. The smaller boiler room rat was pale and pudgy, kind of
baby-faced. I'd bet anything he was one of the last to be drafted; he probably
wasn't more than twenty-seven, twenty-eight when I met him.
Ramon had a nice crazy shine in his eyes, as he looked at me, at the naked
girl crying on the bed clutching her breasts and leaking cum.
"Chingao..." he breathed. "So young. Like that VC girl we bagged,
over there..."
The pudgy young guy giggled, his cock bulging against the front of his
worn, faded jeans. "C'mon man, let's fuck her, we're wasting time."
Ramon pulled his shoes and pants off, and let them drop to the floor by
the side of the bed as he climbed up onto the bed between Karen's legs. He
slapped her breast experimentally, smiling when she arched her back and cried
out, his dick lurching happily.
I sat back on the chair near the bed, got myself a beer, and offered one
to Ramon's compadres.
"Nah, fuck man," the black one shrugged, pulling off his shoes and pants
to let loose the most outrageously huge cock I'd ever seen in my life. "He
ain't gonna take long."
The little guy just giggled and wanked himself harder through his jeans.
"Whatever." I kicked back to enjoy the unfolding entertainment.
Ramon rammed his meat into Karen and started humping into her like a
goddamn bull. From where I sat I had a nice view of his cock spearing into her
pink twat, splitting her lips wide, my cum squeezing out around his cock as he
pumped her.
The little guy was really getting into it, yanking himself furiously,
giggling, offering encouragement.
"Fuck her, man, pound her tight little pussy," he cheered. "Is she tight
man?? I'll bet she's really tight, she's not very old." He was fucking his
hips in time with Ramon's gyrations, his eyes half closed with lust as he
rubbed his boner.
The black guy was much cooler, he simply stood, watching his friend ball
Karen, slowing pulling his mammoth dick as it got harder and fatter and longer.
MAN I wanted to see that thing bury itself in Karen's young pussy, I wanted to
see if he could get it past her butt muscle without tearing it. I half thought
it wasn't going to fit in either hole, but the effort alone would be a sight
worth seeing. And no doubt hearing. If ANYTHING could revive the little slut,
that cock ripping up into her belly would.
Ramon was nearing climax. I could see his nuts jerking, and Karen was
starting to revive a bit, screaming and arching her back as he clutched her
tits in his orgasmic ecstasy. He rode her high and hard, their pubic bones
slamming together with a bruising force, picking her hips up off the bed as he
skewered her. Grunting and thrusting, moaning something in Spanish that
sounded like a prayer, he shot a hot thick load into Karen's cunt; I watched as
it leaked out around his softening dick; he pulled out before he was done
coming, and landed his last sticky spurts on her bald twat, rubbing the
shrinking head of his cock in the small puddle.
"Chingao!" he moaned, rolling off as Karen lay with her legs still spread,
her eyes tightly shut, her hands clasping her freshly traumatized boobs. He
rolled to a sitting position, perched on the edge of the bed, and watched as
the little guy tossed off his jeans, no underwear, I noticed. He leaped
enthusiastically onto the bed, diving between Karen's spread legs, flopping
himself on her prone form. His fat pink belly slapping against hers, the kid
started humping into Karen like a wild dog on a bitch in heat; he was so
fucking horny he came after about five strokes, groaning and cursing himself.
I swear I thought he was gonna start blubbering, no shit. I'da started
laughing but man, it's not too swift to laugh at wacked-out vets. And this kid
was WACKED.
"Calm down, kid," Ramon slapped his ass, "Plenty of time to get it up
again. Let Mook have his turn and she can suck it up for you." The kid
crawled back off the bed, perched on the dresser near where I was sitting, to
watch "Mook" take his turn with my prize.
Something in the kid snapped; it pissed him off when Karen managed to
free her mouth from his cock
"Suck me you little bitch you little fucking tramp fucking slut cunt whore
goddammit SUCK ME!" He screamed, enraged, slapping her face half a dozen times,
as she shrieked out of control, the dick in her ass blanking everything else in
importance. The kid grabbed Karen's hair at the roots and slammed his cock
into her mouth, muffling her screams. Thrusting wildly, he drove his dick down
her throat, thrusting his hips forward as Mook's efforts in her ass drove
Karen's mouth forward on the kid's cock. Blood blossomed on Karen's face as
the kid's pubic bone slammed into her small pig-nose; the kid laughed
maniacally as his groin was painted red with her blood.
The three continued fucking Karen for almost three hours; taking turns in
her ass and pussy and mouth; sometimes simultaneously, sometimes alternately,
as they rested up between orgasms; making her suck her shit and blood, their
cum, off their cocks, getting them hard again to rape her in another hole. She
was rolled and spanked and squeezed and fucked in every position they could
imagine, but finally they were too exhausted to continue.
After they'd left, I sat looking at the limp, exhausted, blood, cum, and
shit-crusted remains of my horny little slut. The blanket she lay on was
rumpled and twisted and covered with the drying remains of her blood and the
three men's fluids. Karen's hair was matted with their sperm, her face caked
with blood from her nose, dried semen from her rapists' dicks, shit their cocks
had pulled from her own ass. She lay unmoving, drooling their cum, breathing
raggedly, her throat raw from screaming around the dicks that had violated her
mouth.
Still, though her nose had accidentally been bloodied and her ass and cunt
leaked blood from within, she'd not been bruised, and the surface of her skin
hadn't been damaged. She'd scrub up well. I'd still get a fair price for her.
Nunzio had paid me twice what I was asking for this little cunt for younger
kids who were in much worse shape physically, age was the main factor, so long
as the kids I delivered weren't obviously dying or sickly.
"God baby, you've been really good," I told her. "I'll remember you."
I watched as this teen's pussy lips rippled through their latest
pain-induced orgasm, her pussy slick not with water but the juice of her cunt.
"You're leaving," she rasped out. I couldn't tell whether it was a
question or a statement.
I left her hanging there while I cleaned up the rest of the room. I took
the blankets, her ruined clothes, the refuse from the bottom of the closet, the
crusty blanket from the bed, down to the incinerator in the basement. I
destroyed any evidence, any blood and body fluids. I remembered her duffle bag
too. I didn't look at the contents before I incinerated it, probably there was
a picture of her family, some ratty old teddy bear she'd had as a baby. There
might have been a couple bucks, but I didn't really want to open these kids'
stuff and look at their pathetic pasts. I had to destroy any evidence tracing
the prey to a former life. It was just common sense if I didn't want to get
caught.
With the room cleaned, I tied Karen spread-eagled, face down, to the bare
mattress.
I patted her butt as I prepared to leave.
"You're leaving," she rasped again. "Stay."
I rubbed between her legs and she humped up appreciatively towards my
hand. I gave her a small shot of morphine in her butt. She'd want some rest
before they picked her up. I was starting to crash in a very big way, if I
didn't get back to my cozy little flop in Brooklyn I might never make it there.
My dick was exhausted, and the rest of me agreed.
And now that I truly owned this little bitch, now that she WANTED me to
torture her to pleasure, now that she would do whatever I wanted, I had no use
for her. The conquest is all.
I did the cruelest thing I could ever do to her then.
I left.
_______ __________________________________________________________________
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(' ') | Save yourself! Go outside! DO SOMETHING! |
(U) |==================================================================|
.ooM |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Mark E. Dassad. |
\_______/|All Rights Reserved. 07/01/1994-#264|
