[darkstalker]

(got a bit of inspiration today, my rape muse with me. hope you enjoy!)

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The man cups her chin smiling with a sickening twist of his lips. “Chica, you are going to have to follow the rules. And they are quite simple. You obey what we say or we will do far worse then play with you and your pussy. Understand?”
Though she is shivering in fear, she feels an inner anger welling up inside her. How dare he? How dare this man degrade her like this? Balling up her fist with that steely anger of hers she spits in his face. “Fuck you!” she growls.
The fat man is taken aback, small eyes squeezing shut as the spit lands on his face. He wipes the spit from his face, flicking his wrist in a quick motion, his face soured. “Bad move chica,” he says, slapping her face hard. She glares back at him as her cheek reddens, her eyes a dark furious thing.
The second slap catches her off guard, followed by a third and a fourth. Blood sprays from cut lips, her vision going blurry as the dots dance around her eyes from the consecutive blows. Then she feels his vice grip on her throat, fat fingers digging in, beady eyes staring with veins lining the whites.
She doesn’t know when it is, but she finds herself on the floor, kneeling, the man’s thick thumbs pressing into the hollow in her neck, small choking noises coming form her. She is gasping, mouth agape, her vision going black. When it fades completely her vision does go black, mind going blank.
She doesn’t know for how long she’s out, only the pain in her throat hurts from where the man had pressed his hard fingers into her. But a pungent odor brings her back, senses coming back in line as something wakes in her and her eyes snap open, mouth opening wide, gasping and sucking in lung fulls of air.
The slap across her face sends her dropping to the floor, or would if she weren’t being held up by either side. “NEVER. EVER. DO. THAT. AGAIN!” says the fat Hispanic man, his bulging lips inches from her face. She answers only with a low gasping.
He turns away, walking towards a small table at the center of the room and picks up a long ornate cane, emblazoned with an eagle at the end. He walks back towards her, leaning on the cane and looks at her. “Pull down her shorts and underwear,” he instructs flatly.
The men comply, quickly jerking down her underwear and shorts, pulling them off her feet and tossing them aside. It is so quick, rough hands over her legs, she doesn’t have time to think or resist. “Wha-what are you doing?” she says, fearing the fat man is going to rape her. “You can’t rape me,” she says desperately. “If you do you’ll go to jail! People won’t stand for it when they find out.”
The man lifts her chin with his cane and chuckles softly. “I’m not going to rape you, you stupid whore. I have women who will pay top dollar to spread their legs for me. No.... I have something “better” in mind for you.”
Tapping the cane on his fat hand he says, “Spread her legs. And Mr. Markson, help as well. Keep her arms out of the way.”
Craig sighs, tapping his foot on the floor. The bitch sure is in for a number now, he thinks. Going to a cabinet to the left of the door, he opens one of the doors and picks out a pair of handcuffs from the shelves. “Raise her arms, will you?” he says. “This’ll make keeping her hands out of the way easier.”
The fat Hispanic nods, “do it.” The two men holding Jennifer comply, lifting her hands over her head and crossing them behind her scalp. Craig is quick to move into position behind her, gripping her wrist and snapping the cuffs into place.
“No!” Jennifer yells. “Don’t do this!” She turns towards Craig, her eyes wide and pleading. “D-don’t do this Craig! You’re a good man. You know this is wrong.”
Craig smiles, what a fool woman she is. Squeezing her cheeks tight, puckering her lips like a fish, he leans his chubby face towards her, jamming his tongue between her parted lips and teeth. It is gross and revolting for Jennifer, Craig’s thick tongue probing her jaws, filling her mouth, spreading her cheek. His breath is thick with tobacco and nicotine and stinks worse then the patrons at the Hooter’s. His poorly cut stubble scrapes painfully against her face, fat cheeks rubbing against her. She struggles, but her hands are locked in place and his thick hand holds her head back while she feels his free hand coming up and under the left side of her Hooter’s tank top, his thick and hard hand roughly cupping her breast and scraping it with hard fingers. She moans, groaning against him, trying to twist away, but is held hard.
Never has she been treated this way or allowed any man to come close to doing so, and as Craig cups her breast, his fat fingers squeeze her nipple and push it forward. She screams a muffled noise against his mouth, his tongue probing deeper into her throat. Squeezing her eyes shut she tries one last time to twist away before she resorts to snapping her teeth down on his tongue.
The reaction is quick and he snaps his tongue back out of her mouth, hand flying away from her breast. “Ow!” he yells.
“You fucking bastard!” she yells. “Fuck off!”
Craig stares, steaming, his hands balling up into fist. The men holding her chuckle bemused. “Fucking bitch,” he says, raising his fist to strike her.
The cane is before him then, rising over Jennifer and pushing him back. “Now Mr. Markson, I never told you that you could touch the product, did I? Think it as fair compensation for delaying her flogging.”
Craig lowers his arms, letting the fist come back down to his sides. His eyes are seething cauldrons, but he no longer moves towards her to inflict harm.
“Now,” says the Hispanic, “hold her arms and you two spread her legs apart.”
Gripping her arms tightly and twisting them back, Craig leans in towards her and whispers in her ear, “I’m going to enjoy watching them fuck you, whore.”
“You fucking bastard!” she screams, trying to twist out of his grip.
“This woman truly needs to learn some discipline,” says the Hispanic, shaking his head.
“Sure does,” says Craig, watching as the men spread Jennifer’s legs. From his vantage point he can see her shaved snatch, small hairs starting to grow back. He smiles wickedly and licks his lips. A shiver runs down Jennifer’s spine, seeing the man wet his lips. She knows she can no longer count on him for support, but what is it that makes him smile so cruelly?
She feels the eagle stone tap her forehead and she turns towards the Hispanic quickly, beads of sweat perspiring on her forehead. “You should learn your manners, chica,” he says. “You Americans need a proper education. Since you are still a favor to my men, I won’t land as many blows as I would have initially.”
He raises the cane and Jennifer’s eyes nearly shoot to her head as she realizes what he is going to do. She is screaming before the blow lands, a curled swing that lands between her legs into the soft flesh of her delicate pussy. “Eeeeyyyyaaaahhhh!!!” she screams, her back arching, body twisting and trying to buck away from the men holding her as the spikes of pain race up her hips to the nerves in her brain.
They nearly do drop her, even between the three of them but soon they are lifting her again, spreading her hips wide. “Hold her steady men,” he says. Her hips are wide, her vaginal lips twitching from the sting of the cane. She is shaking her head rapidly, moaning no, no over and over repeatedly as the Hispanic raises the cane and swings again. The blow connects with sensitive flesh and the woman screams, bucking wildly.
“Two,” says the man staring at her sore cunt. Jennifer is sobbing, her breasts heaving up and down rapidly.
“No! Please!” she says as she watches the cane rise up again. “I’ll do anything! I swear!” she says in a pleading voice.
“Yes,” says the Hispanic, in a bored tone. “You will.”
And the cane comes swinging down again, whipping a new stream of pain that leaves Jennifer screaming. “Three,” says the man. She is breathing rapidly as the cane is lifted again.
“No.no.no.no.no,” she pleads. Again the cane whips through the air, cutting the wind and snapping with a loud crack against her pussy lips, eliciting a loud cry from Jennifer. The pain is intense, more then she has ever felt. Each blow is followed by a pause where the Hispanic counts, tenses, and then swings again, the cane cutting through her tender flesh with ease. Again and again they land, her body quickly reeling in pain as fires race up her hips.
After the ninth blow she heart is thundering, sweat drenching her top, making her erect buds stand against the wet fabric. Her cheeks blow air out quickly and the man raises the cane again. Jennifer squeezes her eyes shut, gritting her teeth, awaiting the pain. It never comes. She opens her eyes, staring at the man. Is it over?
“Mr. Markson,” says the man, looking past her shoulder. “Perhaps you wish to give your dear subordinate the final blow?”
“Sure thing!” says Craig, all too happy to comply and nearly dropping her. The two large men at her sides grunt, but quickly steady her with one arm each below her back. She is too tired to take advantage and fight. Her pussy is too sore and all that comes from her are whining sobs.
“Please...” she says, shaking her head. “Don’t.”
“I’ve been waiting a long time to shag your pussy,” he says in a deep menacing tone, taking the cane from the Hispanic. “This’ll just have to do for now.” Spinning the cane like a bat he takes a few strokes to test it and then raises it.
“No Craig!” she screams. “Stop!”
The cane cuts through the air quickly, the wood breaking through the center of her lips to penetrate her with its hard wood, the wood cracking loudly followed by a crack that doesn’t sound like wood to her. She howls with an inhuman noise as the pain spikes through her system, her body writhing and spasming, then emptying itself of its contents, piss spraying long and far.
“Oh shit!” yells Craig as the spray plasters his pants making him drop the cane in shock as he bounces back. Jennifer does not hear. Her body is twisting, eyes rolling to the back of her head as the pain has grown so intense she can no longer bare it. Her mind shuts down, blacking out her senses to the feelings of her wracked body.

Hector slaps the Jennifer lightly on the cheek, her body hanging limply between his two men. There is no reaction, just the whites of her eyes rolling in her head. Hector raises his head and chuckles, a rumbling of his belly. “Quite good Mr. Markson! Quite good! You made your little worker bee pass out.”
“Fuck!” growls Craig, flicking his arms of the wet piss that landed on him. “Bitch fucking covered me!”
“Yes, she did,” says Hector nonchalantly. “As she did my cane, which you so admirably dropped on the floor. Consider yourself fortunate I do not punish you for this. That is a family heirloom she’s covered with her piss.”
Craig grunts, wiping his hands on his pants. Taking a seat behind the girl Hector says, “put her down and bring the smelling salts. She still needs to perform.”
The men comply, putting the girl down slowly and then going over to the back to bring the salts.
“Shit,” says Craig, walking over to the back and pulling the keys from his pocket. “Gotta’ go change,” he whispers. “What a fucking mess!”
“Mr. Markson,” says Hector without turning to look at the dilapidated ogre of a grunt he has in Craig. “Are you leaving already? The show is about to begin.”
“I’m a fucking mess and won’t get any hard on like this,” says the man, none too smoothly. “Sides, I don’t get to fuck the bitch when I bring her here. Only you and your boys do.”
Hector nods. “Very well. And the next package will be ready when?”
“She’s already ready,” says Craig, rapidly punching the numbers into the key pad. “You shoulda’ seen how the bitch reacted when I told her I was offering Jennifer here over time.”
The man is smiling, an evil glint to his eyes. It makes Hector smile as well. This man, he has no soul, and is fully willing to sell the girls to him for a good price. All well and good for a proper business. “I’m gonna’ let her stew a bit,” says Craig. “Tell her how Jennifer here got a better gig at another Hooter’s with “benefits” and after a few weeks we can set up another “party.”
Hector nods. “Very well. Good evening then, Mr. Markson.”
“Yeah, whatever,” says Craig, unlocking the steel lock on the door. “Just send me the files to my mail when you’re done with her.”
Hector shakes his head. Poor practice to keep such things on someone’s computer, even if he sent it from an untraceable source. But it is the man’s choice, he won’t interfere. After all there are more who can bring in women like this “Jennifer” to him. Craig is only one of many.
He hears her moaning and stands up. “I shall attend to our guest then.”
The door slams loudly behind them and Hector smiles, waddling over to the door and closing the lock back in place. He himself has another key for the thing. Quickly he punches a code to reseal the door, hearing as the rumbling engine of Craig’s truck roars to life and begins to pull out.
The rowdy chatter of the men on the other side has picked up again, it having gone silent momentarily while Hector disciplined his “charge.” Kneeling next to her head, he smiles as she begins to come to, her eyes locking on his, body shivering. “Now...” he says. “Let us discuss the rules once more, shall we?”

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