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Old 04-30-2012, 02:02 AM   #1
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Default Hooter's Special Delivery

so as you can see the hooter's rape won out quite well in the voting from both sites. so enjoy the set up! long rape to come.

*******

Hooter’s Special Delivery


Craig lets the smoke perfume the room, his blurry eyes shot red with the nicotine he consumes. He sits behind the bar, greasy hair now graying at the temples, his five o’clock stubble always present no matter what time of day it is. With a belly two sizes too large for his shirt, it hangs out sickly over his pants.
Fortunately for the patrons at the local Hooter’s restaurant such a thing is a minor concern. Actually most of them are more concerned with their waitresses. Most who wear skimpy orange shorts riding nearly inside their crotches and tight tops that expose their ample bosoms. And not many are more ample then those at the Hooter’s on 4th and South. Craig made sure of that in the hiring process. Especially since his later clients liked them that way.
He sits slouched against his chair in the back, staring at one woman in particular. Jennifer Market. As the woman quickly cleans off the table he can see down her tank top, her large melons in clear sight of his leering gaze.
He straightens out and stands up. “Jennifer!” he says. “A word?” He motions with the crook of a fat digit and the woman complies. He feels the corners of his mouth twisting into a twisted grin as she approaches.
Jennifer Market, a client favorite. Large double D’s. Nice round rear with shapely long legs made even more pronounced by the short shorts. Her long dark hair comes down to the center of her back, cute triangle face with full lips and beautiful hazel eyes. Her skin is a slightly tanned coloration, almost bronze like. Smooth to the touch. He’d sent photos and the special clients gave word they wanted her. Tonight if possible. Now to sink the bait.
“Yes sir,” she asks.
He leans over the counter to speak to her. “You want to make a couple extra bucks Jen?”
“Sir?” she asks.
“I got a private Hooter’s party over on 40th and I need a waitress to cover the shift. Be an extra six hours about but it’ll be double the over time.”
“I’ve got school tomorrow,” says the woman. “Test are...”
Craig slaps the towel against the table and shakes his head. “Fine. I’m sure Mandy will jump at the extra pay. Hey Mandy!”
“No. No!” says Jennifer leaning towards him, grabbing his arm. “I’ll do it. Just... it’s sudden.”
“Right,” he says. “It’s only for a night.”
“You called boss?” asks the buxom blonde walking over to the counter. She could almost be Jennifer’s white twin. The clients had an interest in her too, but not tonight.
“No Mandy. Jennifer’s got it.”
“Alright,” says the woman with a pout and turns away, her eyes straying towards Jennifer who clings to Craig’s arm. She lets out a grunt, her hips swinging back and forth as she leaves. Damn, he’s going to have to get that cunt down to the dregs too, but for tonight...
“Alright Jennifer,” he says turning back to the brunette and cupping her hand gently. “Just stay in after closing and we’ll drive up to the local. After a couple hours you’ll be back home in time for your test. Sound good?”
Jennifer nods. “Good. Now get back to work.”
“Thanks. I’ll do my best!”
“I know you will.” Jennifer is grinning, her eyes sparkling as she turns away. Double overtime he thinks. It always get them. He walks into his private office room behind the bar and locks the door. He picks up the phone dialing out a number.
“Is the package set?” says a raspy voice on the other end.
Craig smiles. “Yeah. Package is set. Get the wolves ready, the rabbit’s on its way.”
“Good,” says the voice on the other end. “We will see you at one sharp.”
Craig slowly puts down the phone and lifts the cigarette to his mouth, taking a long puff, the edge of the cigarette burning down. His mouth spreads in a grin, yellow teeth clearly visible and he walks back out the door, cleaning his hands with the dish towel.

********
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Old 04-30-2012, 02:05 AM   #2
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My appetite is whetted! Let's go!
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Old 04-30-2012, 05:36 PM   #3
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Great start, can't wait for more!
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Old 04-30-2012, 11:20 PM   #4
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Looking forward to 'being a Special Client' at that party!
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Old 04-30-2012, 11:58 PM   #5
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Craig’s old truck rumbles down the dark highways at a steady pace. Each bump reflected by the crunching of a tire in the hole. Jennifer bounces once more against her seat as another pot hole gives the rickety truck a jolt.
“Don’t worry,” says Craig. “This old bucket of bolts will get us to where we need to get going.”
“Yeah...” says Jennifer, rubbing her bare arms. She is now having second thoughts about this trip despite the double overpay Craig promised, but she needs the money... She bites her lower lip in consternation. If she just didn’t have those school loans to pay she’d not have these issues.
She rubs her arms again, the cold air getting to her and the acrid smoke from Craig’s cigars making her feel disgusted. She figures she should be used to it by now. Craig with his thick cigars and all the clientele at the bar always pinching and groping. Craig had called them off on it, mildly, but something in his eyes made her feel... disgusted.
She shudders. This is no place to be for a future lawyer, but bills don’t pay themselves.
She notices the sign go by which reads 50th south. “Hey, this is 50th. I think we missed the exit Craig.”
“No,” says Craig, keeping his eyes on the road. “We haven’t missed it. The boys called me. Gonna’ be a bit farther then 40th I’m afraid. That doesn’t matter,” he says looking towards her with those blood shot eyes. “Does it?”
“No,” she says silently, wishing there were something more she could do.
“Hey,” he says, patting her leg lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing’s going to happen yet.”
She slaps his hand away. “Don’t touch me! I get enough of that at the bar!”
He stares wide eyed for a moment, his mouth agape, then shuts it, turning back to the road. “You better get that attitude in check honey,” says Craig. “The crew we’re heading towards is a bit rowdier then you’re used to and still demand service. Get my drift?”
“Yeah...” she says quietly. “What do you mean rowdier? How?”
“They’re just rowdier. That’s all. You’ll find out when we get there.”
She sighs, leaning her elbow against the frame of the open window. “If you say so...”

*******

Craig glances over at the girl. 23 and full bodies. Her large breasts poke at the thin fabric of her hooter’s top, her buds already erect from the cold. He resist the urge to flick one. He’ll have enough time for that later.
Turning back to the road he grins, thinking on what will happen with the girl once they get to their destination. He can see her running her hands over her shoulders, and he knows full well it’s not from the cold alone. Well girl, he thinks, wait till you meet the boys then you’ll have something real to shiver about!

*****

(the fun is about to begin soon. )
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Old 05-01-2012, 12:03 AM   #6
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oh, how i imagine jennifer to look in this story.
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Old 05-27-2012, 11:34 PM   #7
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sorry it's been awhile. had a story commission believe it or not. so here's another part to jennifer's rape.

******

The vehicle slowly grinds to a halt over the rough asphalt floor, the engine dying to a slow hum that chokes off suddenly with a wheeze. “We’re here,” says Craig, removing the key from the ignition and pocketing it. No turning back for her now, he thinks. He smiles darkly at her, eyes gleaming.

Jennifer doesn’t notice Craig’s leering gaze. Instead she looks at the building, a warehouse of sorts. There is a dim light inside and she can hear rowdy laughter from inside, but nothing gives the impression this is a restaurant of any sort. Quite the contrary, it looks more like a mechanics shop or something. She can even see chains hanging from the open door way with hooks of sorts. They are the only thing that seems somewhat new, the metal gleaming in contrast to the rest of the building.
The windows along the edges are cracked with spiderweb indentations, the smell of salty air is strong drifting from the ocean only a few miles away, a cold breeze drifting in with it, and the bricks are peeling. An old sign saying “Don’s T& T” hangs by a hinge at the center of the overhead wall, the paint so whittled and dry that several of the letters are peeling or gone altogether. She doesn’t like this, doesn’t like this one bit.
She turns to Craig, running her hands over shivering shoulders. “Craig. I don’t like this. Take me back.”
Craig slams his open palm on the hood of the truck with a loud bang, making her jump in her seat. “What do you mean go back? We’re already here you fucking cunt! And we’re late already.”
He makes a show of looking at his watch, and says “It’s one fucking thirty already. So get your ass in gear and get out! If you’re not going to work, you’re walking back! I got a fucking shift to run and got no time for some fucking cunt who needs her momma.’”
Jennifer is taken aback. Craig has never been like this. Gross and disgusting maybe, but never like this. She stares wide eyed then looks back at the establishment.

Craig looks towards the new piece of meat, watching her shiver and debate wether she should go in or take a risk walking out, her hands running over her arms. “You’d better make a choice,” he says. “I don’t got much time. But if you’re walking I’d start up already. We got all kinds of folks around these parts, and not all of them are as considerate as me.”
It’s true. And he’s let some of these cunts walk out on him for an extra “sport” of sorts for the patrons. A hunt if you will, with the girls running as the men holler, their headlights on those round asses as those big titties shake back and fourth, girls screaming in terror. No cops come by these parts, so that’s all part of the game. And he wouldn’t mind chasing Jennifer. Looking at her large tits, he licks his lips and takes out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting the tip. Taking a puff he sucks in the nicotine, letting it relax him before he does something drastic. Patrons get first go at the merchandise. Not him. He’ll just have to wait his turn.
“Well?” he says, tapping the hood. “What’s it gonna’ be? Road’s just over there, so what’s your choice?”
He smiles, a twist of his teeth. In the end the choice won’t matter anyways. But no need to tell her that.

******
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Old 05-27-2012, 11:54 PM   #8
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Craig is tapping the hood, anxious, the tapping sounding like skittering rats. Jennifer looks towards the dark building with the rowdy customers shouting and rubs her arms up and down. Swallowing, she stretches her arms before her, unawares of Craig’s leering gaze on her large D-cup breasts.
She leans back and pinches her nose, squinting her eyes. She sighs, thinking on what being a lawyer might have in store for her. She is going to meet a lot of scum as a lawyer, some far worse then whatever is in this dilapidated building. She might as well get ready. Otherwise what is she going to school for?
“Alright,” she says in a quiet subdued voice. “Alright. I’ll do this.”
“What?” says Craig. “I didn’t hear you bitch.”
She ignores his jibe. “Let’s do this fucking thing,” she growls. She opens the door and slams it shut. “The sooner we get started the sooner I can leave, right?”

Craig stares, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. He hadn’t expected her to take in that choice. Matter of fact he’d expected her to run off.
“Well, well, looks like I chose right after all,” he says, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. “Come on, let’s go meet the clients.”

******
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Old 05-28-2012, 02:05 AM   #9
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Craig walks around behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “They’ll really like you Jen,” he says. “I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah...” she says, “let’s just get this over with.”
Craig smiles, leading her over to a back door which he unlocks and opens wide for her. The smell of smoke instantly assails her, making her eyes water. She turns her head away in reaction to it, when a harsh slap on her rear makes her yelp. “In ya go!” says Craig.
“You don’t have to act like a pig!” Jennifer yells as she turns to face him.
“Yeah... whatever,” says Craig nonchalantly, nearly shoving her in and almost toppling her to the floor. He turns away from her, his great back to her, lock coming in place with a click. Then she hears a chain being drawn, its chimes clanging as it is pulled through a loop in the door handle and a lock clicks into place, dials spinning so she has no idea about the combination.
Her eyes have gone wide now, breathing coming out raggedly and heart thrumming in her chest. Why is he putting a second lock in place?
Sweat beads on her forehead and she turns to look at the door, now hooked in place. Craig dusts off his hands. He looks at her, openly leering at her large breasts. Instinctively she covers them, feeling suddenly very unsafe with Craig here. All alone.
“So this is the package you promised?” a heavily accented voice behind her says.
Jennifer whirls around, looking into the beady eyes of a thick bellied, double chinned Hispanic. The man puffs on a cigar, small Hitler like mustache flaring briefly. His shirt is wet with the slick sweat of his body, the dusty brown business suit he wears having stains underneath the pits.
Beside him are two hulking men dressed in similar wear, tattoos and scars ribbing their faces and hands. They stare at her with deathly looks, the only difference between the two, one having short cropped hair and the other being bald. But both seem to have a snake tattoo on their left of a serpent biting their under ear, and bare scars on their right sides of their faces. The two look like felons, and the man himself looks like some drug lord.
“Craig,” she says, turning towards her manager. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll walk.”
“A little late for that Jen,” says Craig, leaning against the door, arms folded across his chest. “You should be more cordial with the guest. After all, they paid for your services.”
“What?” says Jennifer incredulously. She barely sees as the two large men grab either arm, their thick hands covering her length and holding her tight. She struggles kicking and screaming. “No! Let me go! Stop this!”
The men ignore her struggling, simply holding her between them as she bounces amongst them with her protestations loud against their ears. She does not note the fat man coming towards her until a sharp slap cuts through her senses. “I hate being ignored chica!” says the man, leaning down towards her. He cups her chin, turning her head left and then right, as if examining her.
“Wha-what are you going to do with me?” she says.
He ignores her words, instead slipping a hand below her tank top, thick greasy fingers grabbing hold of her left breast. “Hey!” she yells. “Let go!”
He ignores her, squeezing her breast as if it were an overripe melon. “Nice. Nice,” says the man, pulling her top over her breasts so the large bodies of flesh are easily visible for all the men to see. He pinches both her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rubbing them lightly.
“Aaaahhh!!” she yells in pain. “Craig! Make them stop!”
“Nice. Nice,” says the man. “Soft and tender.”
He leans his fat pudgy body towards her, cupping her left breast anew and opens his mouth wide, his yellow and black teeth fully visible to her.
“No! No! What are you doing!?” she yells.
Her protestations fall on deaf ears as his mouth closes upon her breast, his mouth slobbering and sucking loudly. “Aaagghhh! Stop it!” she yells. “Craig!” she says, craning her neck towards her manager. “Make him stop!” Tears are forming at her eyes and she’s practically begging, loathing the feel of this man’s mouth on her tender breasts.
Craig simply stares, a smile plastered on his sickly lips. Jennifer whimpers, feeling as the man’s teeth suddenly find her nipple and bite down hard. She shrieks loudly. “Aahhhh! Stop! Please stop!”
The man pulls her nipple, stretching her breast meat as he pulls back and lets it snap back into place. “Nice. Nice. Good and hard little titties!” He flicks both her nipples repeatedly. Jennifer sobs in disgust.
“No... please...”
He leans back, pulling her top back down and tilts her chin. “Your face looks good enough to eat chica! Especially with your tears running down it like that.”
He runs his tongue over her cheek and she shakes her head from his grip. “You fucking bastard! When I get out of here...”
The crack across her face resounds loudly in the smokey room. “Warned you to be nice to the patrons,” says Craig from behind her.
Jennifer can feel the blood running down her cracked lip. “Please....”
The second slap resounds against her opposing cheek, inflaming the flesh with a sharp sting. The fat man looks at her, squeezing her cheeks tight in his palm. “Chica...” he says. “You are our cunt now. You do as we say... when we say.”
His other hand slips between her legs inside her short shorts. She squirms, tears forming at the edges of her eyes. His thick fingers get beneath her panties in between her soft cunt lips and he jams their thick bodies into her, her dry lips aching with agony as the rough members probe her skin, pounding and gripping her insides. Instinctively she squeezes her legs, gripping the fingers tighter in an effort to push them out. The hard calloused skin tears at her tender insides and she weeps openly at the pain.
The man suddenly pulls out his fingers with a jerk, spreading his hand wide and looking at the liquid trailing down them. Sticking some fingers in his mouth he sucks on them and then wipes the still wet ends across her face and chest leaving wet streaks across her skin. “Aaauuugghh!!” she moans, her legs squirming from the pain they’ve just endured.
“Her lips are nice and tight,” says the man. “Good and dry, so she’ll scream well.”
The tears stream down her eyes, her body shivering with disgust. Why does Craig not do anything to stop these men? Why?
“She is good Mr. Markson. Excellent for our little fiesta. You will be well compensated.”
Craig nods. “Better be, I’ve been wanting to lay into this cunt myself for some time.”
“Craig?” she asks, her eyes locked on him, body shivering, breasts rising and falling quickly, pressing against her thin fabric.
The man stares with dull eyes, the smoke swirling around his face. “What?” he says quietly. “You thought you were all that cuz you’re some fucking college fluzee?” He spits to the side, and grinds his boot on the floor on the spit. “Naaahh... You’re just a piece of chump change like the rest of the sluts at the bar. Nice. Fat. Change.”
The grin that splits his face makes Jennifer’s heart break. He’d been planning this from the beginning she realizes, and she’d fallen for it, hook line and sink her.
Rough hands turn her face and she stares at the fat man who looks at her with a dark look, lips twisting at the ends into a thin smile. “Now chica...” he says. “We’re going to discuss the rules.”
Her heart thunders faster thinking on what this awful man has planned in store for her.

****

hopefully this makes up for the delay for you guys. any suggestions to what should happen to jennifer are welcome.
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Old 05-29-2012, 12:07 AM   #10
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Fuck this bitch!!!!!! Hard!!!!!!
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Old 05-29-2012, 12:44 AM   #11
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will do! (feel free to give any suggestions.)
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Old 05-29-2012, 10:42 AM   #12
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(got a bit of inspiration today, my rape muse with me. hope you enjoy!)

*******


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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Old 05-29-2012, 02:17 PM   #13
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Jennifer stares wide eyed at the man before her. “P-please,” she says. “Don’t hurt me anymore!”
Hector tilts her chin up, looking into her large brown eyes. So full of fear they are. “That will be up to you dear. Now are you understanding your position here?”
Jennifer swallows, tears running down her cheeks. “Ye-yes,” she says.
“Good,” he says, removing his hand from her so her head falls forward, hair matting her face, shoulder hunched. A beautiful degraded figure. “And you will do everything we say...” he licks his lips, loving the words to come out. “Fuck toy?”
Jennifer visibly shivers but nods. “Good,” he says. “And if you don’t comply we’re going to do worse to you. I hear blow torches against the vagina are quite the sport in some places, and the flesh there burns so wonderfully!”
She stares wide eyed, piss trickling down between her legs. “So we have an understanding?” he says, moving aside a strand of hair from before her eyes. “Yes? You’ll do whatever the men outside and I say.” And he grips a handful of her hair, pulling it tight and jerking her head towards him. “Or else.”
Tears stream down her eyes. “Ye-yes,” she says. “I’ll do what you want. Just don’t hurt me.”
He lets go of her hair, letting it fall back into place. “Oh, we’ll hurt you alright. But it’ll be worse if you resist. Understand?”
She nods in defeated tones. “Good,” he says. Turning to the two men around him he says, “get the extra key from the locker and unlock her cuffs. She can’t very well perform her duties with her hands locked behind her.”
The men nod and head to the cabinet. Hector smiles, loving Jennifer’s shivering form. It is lucky the cuffs are only standard issue and any key will work. It would be annoying to snap the cuffs and leave her with them on. He sits, observing her and she shrivels into a ball, knees rising to her face.
“Got it boss,” says one man.
“Good. Remove the cuffs.”
The man does as told and Jennifer sits still as the cuffs are removed from her wrist and simply circles her arms around her chest.
He walks around, letting her shiver in fear for a moment and picks up his cane. It is sickly and wet. Taking a rag from the floor he cleans it off and curses. There is a crack at its center. The damned thing is cracked! He growls inwardly, knuckles turning white, hands balled into large fist. “Fucking cunt!” he says, motioning the cane towards the prone girl. She shivers trying to make herself smaller. Hector growls but keeps quiet, balling up the anger into a small space. He’ll extend her suffering, that’s it. Let everyone else in on it as well and make her participate in her degradation.
“Jennifer?” he says quietly, remembering the girl’s name from the dossier Mr. Markson had given him. The girl reacts instinctively, her eyes widening. “Now that’s not the way a future lawyer is supposed to act,” he says, reveling in degrading her dreams. He tosses her the rag. “Clean yourself up. Don’t want you all dirty for the guest.”
Jennifer slowly pushes the rag down between her legs, cleaning the piss that came out. “Get up,” he says impatiently. “And clean up where we can see you!”
Jennifer stands on shaking legs and starts wiping her cunt lips and legs of the stream of urine. “Faster,” says the man, “dig it in!”
She tries rubbing it faster, but her lips are horribly sore, and her attempts feel awkward and feeble at best. She hates this, hates how she is degrading herself as a spectacle before these men.
“Go show her how it’s done,” Hector says to one of the men. The large man nods and walks towards her, gripping her arm and yanking the rag away. Then without any delicateness, begins to roughly swipe at the piss on her legs and roughly plunges the rag into her sore pussy, twisting it and turning it.
Jennifer screams. “Aaaahhh!! It hurts!” she says, trying to push the large man’s hand out of her pussy. But he ignores it and continues to clean until her body is free of the urine. Taking the rag over to the nearest garbage can he tosses it in unceremoniously, giving her a deadly glare. Jennifer shiver, rubbing her arms. Her hips burn and the towel with lint had been none too gentle on her delicate features.
“You,” says Hector to the other man. “Get four bowls of salt ready.” The man nods, taking small bags of salt and tearing them open.
Hector turns back to Jennifer who stares wide eyed. Why would they need salt, she thinks. Hector snaps his fingers and Jennifer comes to attention anew.
“And you my little whore, take your shoes and socks off. You won’t need those. But you can put your shorts back on.”
Jennifer complies, removing her shoes quickly and tossing them aside. She picks up her twisted up panties, uncurling them and opening the leg to put it back on when the man snaps his fingers.
“What did I say Jennifer?”
Jennifer stills, her leg already in one slot of her panties. “Tha-that I could put my shorts back on?”
“Yes, and do those look like shorts to you?”
Jennifer looks down at her pink panties and shakes her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “No, they’re not,” he says. “Bring those here and you can put your shorts back on.”
She slowly removes her panty again and walks over to the fat man who sits against the wall, cane under his pudgy hands. She presents her intimates to him and he takes them from her in a swipe, pressing them against his nose, inhaling deeply. “Mmmm... good, chica. You have a good smell. Now get back with you and put your shorts back on.”
He whacks her lightly between the legs making her yelp and go stumbling back towards her shorts. These bastards! If she can somehow get out of here and...
“Bring me a knife,” says the man. “Jennifer’s clothes are too big for her I think.”
She puts the shorts on slowly as she hears the creaking of the cabinet doors and the sliding of metal as something is withdrawn. “Here you go boss.”
“P-please...” she says, wetting her lips. “Don’t hurt me!”
“Come here,” says the man, motioning with a large butterfly knife, its blade shining in the dull lights. Jennifer shakes her head, fear gluing her feet in place.
“God damn it,” says Hector, “go bring her over here!”
One of the large goons comes towards her, grabbing a handful of her hair and drags her over to his boss. She yelps, and screams, begging the men not to hurt her. As her face is pushed towards the fat Hispanic, he slaps her across the face. “You come when I tell you to come, chica!” he says, motioning with the blade. “Now hold her,” he says to the man, who pulls her hair back. “And you...” he says, tapping the blade on her breast. “Stay still. You don’t want me to slip with the blade do you?”
She shakes her head emphatically. “Good,” he says.
Taking her top by the bottom he places the knife in between, stabbing it through the fabric and begins to slice around the edges, instructing the man to turn her around and Jennifer to lift her arms as he cuts the material in a full circle, finally yanking the last strap away.
Looking her over now, Hector smiles, the tool inside his pants starting to grow hard. Jennifer’s Hooter’s tank top, once reaching down long enough to be tucked into the shorts has been shorn away so her breasts now poke out of it, the tips of her nipples sticking out. Jennifer cries from the shame and humiliation. “Turn around,” he instructs her and she does as told.
He gives her a good slap on the rear, and smiles. “Good. Good,” he thinks. “But that pussy should be more accessible.”
Yanking at her crotch, he sticks the knife in and slashes down. Instructing her to turn around he cuts away a portion of the front so that now part of her pussy is exposed to the elements. Hector dangles the discarded fabric before her like a squirming worm. “No need for extra material that is wasteful,” he says and tosses the excess into the garbage.
“Now...” he says, handing the knife to one of the men. “I think there is something you can do for me chica, before I give you to my men.”

*******
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Old 06-07-2012, 01:15 AM   #14
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Tears are forming at Jennifer’s eyes. “P-please don’t. I’ll do anything you want! Just don’t...”
The slap resounds loudly in the small room. “Stop fucking with me chica!”
She is sobbing, tears running down her cheeks. Motioning to one of his men, he says irritably, “Get her up.”
One man nods, grabbing a handful of Jennifer’s hair, yanking her up by the scalp. She shrieks, swinging her body back and forth, her nice tits flapping back and forth with her movements. Hector slaps her left breast hard, making Jennifer howl and wrap her arms around her tender flesh.
“Now,” says Hector, gripping her cheeks tightly. “Are you going to do what I say or do you need more instruction?”
Jennifer nods, speaking through her compressed cheeks. “I- I’ll do what you say...”
“Good,” says Hector, slapping her lightly across the left cheek. “Now, be a dear and start rubbing that pussy on my dick. I want it nice and tented up you whore.”
Jennifer moves her hand instinctively to her violated pussy, still pained from her lacerations. “P-please... don’t make me do that.”
Hector’s movement is as sudden as it is brutal. His fat fingers find quick purchase inside of her tender flesh, pulling her towards him, making Jennifer whine as she tries futilely to remove his fat fingers with their dirty nails from inside her tender pussy. “Now... you listen here chica. You can either rub your pussy yourself, which will be less painful, or I’ll fuck your cunt with my fist before jamming my fat sausage into your tight little pussy! Understand?”
She nods, the tears streaming, dripping onto his button up shirt over the large expanse of belly.
“Good,” he says and with a jerk, yanks out his fingers from Jennifer’s sensitive spot, making her yelp. “Now,” says Hector, lowering the brim of his sombrero, “get to work.”

Jennifer is shaking. Her body is quivering. She stares at the fat man, with his large meat already pressing against his pants and thinks inwardly, I can’t do this.
“Now!” the large man yells, banging his fist on the side of the seat. Jennifer jumps and finds herself opening her legs wide, moving onto his lap. The man nods, placing his fat hands onto her hips. They are thick and feel like puddy, but dig into her flesh like rough stone. Though her pussy hurts, Jennifer presses her lips around the man’s tenting cock, the zipper scraping her inner labia, and begins to gyrate back and forth. The zipper catches on her skin making the already sore muscle hurt more and the pants chafe against sensitive flesh.
She sobs, her breasts heaving. The fat man does not seem to notice, instead putting his fat beefy hands onto her large orbs, squeezing and pulling.
“Nice,” he says. “These are wonderful melons you have chica.”
He sees her tears and smiles. The pain that awaits her is greater then this. This is only the beginning of the game.
He squeezes her large melons. For a gringa she has quite nice ones. He pulls at her soft erect buds, rubbing them between greasy fingers and then leans forward, cupping one of her breasts and opens his mouth, closing over the juicy meat.

Jennifer sobs, feeling the fat pig’s slobbering mouth on her tit, sucking hungrily like a new born babe. Pulling and tearing at her breast. Her pussy hurts and her body already feels violated.
She yelps when his fat hand slaps against her hips. Looking down at him she sees as his teeth close down on her nipple and pulls, stretching the tender flesh with her breast meat. She moans, resisting the urge to claw at him, instead gripping his arms and digging her nails in. “P-please... stop...” she says.
He pulls as far as he can and lets the nipple snap back, making the girl yelp. She presses one hand against her tender flesh, the tears running coming full force now. “Now,” he says, wiping the spit off his chin and pushing the woman down his lap. “Take my manhood out and put it between those tender lips in between your legs.”

Jennifer nods. She knew he’d ask this, knew it was coming. Shakily with trembling fingers, she unbuckles the man’s belt and undoes his zipper, each click of the catches sounding infinitely loud to her. “Good, good,” he says, cooing to her like a puppy. “Now... pull it out and put your body on it. Dip it inside that warm cunt so I fuck you.”
She breathes heavily and dips her hand into his briefs, pushing the fabric away. Almost instantly his fat schlong pops out, fully erect and large. She yells, hands pulling away suddenly. All the men around her laugh. “Yes,” says Hector. “It is quite.... shocking, isn’t it?”
After a quick laugh he says, “Now chica, the little man needs to be covered. Use your hips and give him a nice home.”
Shaking, she takes the large member into her hands, swallowing the bile wanting to push up her throat. She moves over slowly, taking hold of his member. If she was braver she’d dig her nails into it, lacerating it and try to break free of this hell hole. But with the two goons behind her she doesn’t dare. Who knows what they’d do to her if they’ve already caned her pussy for a minor infraction?
Instead she lifts her sore hips onto his rod, slowly sliding her body over it. She moans as her pained pussy works itself to accommodate his large manhood. A good seven inches and very fat. She can feel the hairs on his penis scratching at her insides as she slides him inside her.
She shudders, feeling each movement as she drops onto him. Then it is done, his whole member inside her.
“Now chica,” says the man, leaning back in his seat. “Impale yourself on me. Make me cum inside you.”
Quivering, she starts to move her hips back and forth. They burn with an intensity, a scalding heat that keeps her pussy from lubricating. Still she moves forward, the man stretched before her, hands behind his head as she fornicates on top of him.
His hairs itch against her labia, his thick manhood hurting her womanhood. But still she gyrates, slowly to work herself up to it. To moisten her body and perhaps derive something from this violation.
Then there is the thrust. It makes her yelp. A quick boom to her womanhood. It hurts. Soon it is followed by more. The man’s hips roughly pound away at her pussy as she falls forwards on him, gripping his suit jacket and screaming as his hips piston away at her, slamming against her inner walls without mercy.

Hector slams away at his putita, enjoying how her pussy has wrapped around him like a glove. Loving the sensation of how dry she is, but wet from some blood and piss. He pounds at her hips roughly, enjoying her screams.
Digging his nails into her hips he begins to thrust faster, smacking against her with wet slapping sounds, the fire in his loins rising until he throws her onto the floor and stands over her, spraying his cum up over her breasts and stomach. “Now... it is over,” he says, pushing his member back into his pants.
“You should thank me, chica,” he says. “Most of the other men won’t be as merciful as I in cumming on your body instead of your hips.”
Jennifer shudders, hugging her shoulders, not even bothering to clean the cum that is leaking down her stomach. She whimpers softly, wondering how much more she’ll have to endure.

******

Last edited by darkstalker; 06-07-2012 at 12:17 PM. Reason: grammar correction and detail addition
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Old 06-07-2012, 12:44 PM   #15
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“Rape my body, fuck my body!” the voice on the radio blares as Jennifer gyrates her hips, thrusting them back and forth in what she hopes is a provocative show. She tries to stifle the tears as she hears the catcalls from the men gathered around the tables. At least twelve of them, each large or fat with tattoos and scars disfiguring their features.
“You go putita!” hollers one man, cupping his mouth.
She swings her hips, rubbing her breasts. “Rape my body, fuck my body!” the radio continues. “I’m Jessica! Celest! Mindy! ...” and the list goes on as Jennifer continues to move, turning around and spinning, knowing how the shorts and shirt now flare revealing her tender regions to these neanderthals. But she can’t stop, won’t stop, for the risk of more pain and misery that awaits if she does.
“Aaaahhhhh!!” the radio screams against its backdrop, making Jennifer stumble and halt for a minute. It sounded like a real scream. “No! Stop!” the girl on the radio begs. “No! Fuck me harder! Harder! Aaaahhhhh! Please stop!”
Another one? Thinks Jennifer. Another woman violated, forced to accommodate these men? Like her?
“Why’d you stop putita?” one voice yells. “Swing that fucking ass!”
Crying she lifts her arms over her head and turns around, spinning, trying to lose herself to the beat. But the more she listens the more the voices sound like different women begging. Begging and screaming as they’re abused. And Jennifer... Jennifer knows she’ll just become another casualty. Another statistic on the missing girl’s bracket. And this makes her heart ache all the more. No one will even know, or barely care.
“Stop,” the fat hispanic’s voice whispers behind her. “But continue to swing your hips.”
She does as she is told. “Whooooo!” yell the men, their testosterone filling the air, nearly choking her in the scent.
“Now,” says Hector’s voice next to her as he lifts a tape recorder to her mouth. “What’s your name?”
“My name is Jennifer Market,” she says. Her voice is shaking and she can barely suppress the tears that wish to stream down her face.
“Whooooo! I’m in the market for some white bitch!” yells one man.
She breaks now, the tears coming fully. “P-please....”
“Say what I told you or it will be worse!” hisses the fat man.
Choking back the sob she nods. “Please.... rape this bitch and make her cum. Make her scream! This bitch wants you to beat and rape her!”
Oh my god! What did she just say? Unable to hold back she claps her hands to her face, the tears streaming down her face.
“Yeah!” yells one man. “I’ll rape you good!”
“Me too!”
“Yeah!”
And the chorus goes on despite the tears that visibly fall from her eyes.

Hector spreads his arms wide, motioning for the radio to be shut off. With a click there is silence. Lowering his arms Hector smiles. “It has been a good year my men. Our market in the drug trade has increased. These American pendejos who lift their noses at us and look down on us pay us in their own greed and blood!”
“Yeah! Fuck the cabrones!” yells one man.
Hector nods. A little bit of wildness can be accepted.
“Today,” he says. “Is a day to celebrate! And the Americans have even been so generous as to give us one of their own for celebration!” He motions to Jennifer as he says this, noticing how she quakes in her position.
“A putita to fuck! Her holes ready and willing for it! You heard it from the whore’s mouth yourselves!”

Oh god, thinks Jennifer, cupping her mouth, eyes going wide. How did she get herself into this?
“And now,” says the man, lifting his cane into the air before the gathered room, the smoke thick in the air, making it hard for her to breathe. “Now! The caning begins!”
Caning? What caning! She was told nothing...
She sees the fat man’s eyes gleam. “You will do as you are told putita, or it will go worse. The caning is just to soften you up!”
She swallows, feeling a small amount of urine leak down her legs. “Now,” yells Hector. “We will start with her overripe melons! Each man here will begin by caning them three times and then we’ll move on to her ass!”
“Gonzales,” says the man, motioning to a medium sized man with no hair, a dragon twisting around his scalp. “You are first.” He hands the man his cane, who slaps it against his palm, smiling wickedly. Licking his lips he smiles.
“Get ready for it putita!” And the cane rises into the air. Jennifer screams before the cane even hits.


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Old 07-07-2012, 02:37 AM   #16
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The cane comes down on her supple breasts with a loud crack, leaving a red welt already on her tender skin. Jennifer screams, the fire rushing through her bosom at an excruciating rate. Cupping her breasts, she falls to the floor.
“Please...” she begs, the dears running down her cheeks.
“Get up puta,” says the man with the tattoos. “Unless you want it across your face!”
She looks at the man imploringly but he simply stares with cold eyes, his teeth gritted in a fierce look. She starts to stand and feels the sudden swing of the cane across her flesh, the blow echoing loudly in the room followed by her scream. She holds her breasts, sitting back on her haunches.
“Get up puta!” says the man. She shakes her head, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please no!” she begs.
The cane falls severely on her shoulder and she yells, feeling a sharp pane there. Again it falls across her opposing shoulder. “Get up puta! Get up!” As the cane is about to land again, it is suddenly grabbed, held in place one handed by the fat man.
“You were only supposed to cane her breasts right now. What are you doing?”
“But-“ says the bald man incredulously.
“That’s enough Gonzales. Another outburst like that and you’ll lose all your privileges tonight.”
“Fine,” says the man gripping his shirt and giving it a quick tug. “I’ll be back putita.” He runs his tongue over his lip and Jennifer cringes inwardly.
The fat man walks over to her, standing behind her back and leans down. “Now get up puta,” he says. “Or else at the end of the night I’ll put a blow torch to that pussy and cook you dry!”
She gasps, wide eyed. The man smiles wickedly, his yellowing teeth giving him a sickly appearance. Jennifer stands on shaky legs and another man comes up, this one with a round pot belly hanging over his belt severely. “And make sure to ask each man for the caning and thank them for it at the end.”
“But...” she says timidly.
“Or else,” says the fat man. Jennifer swallows back the bitter taste of bile in her mouth and nods.
“Now,” says the old man, “I believe it is your turn Jose.”
Jose with his fat beer belly, slaps the cane against his meaty hands and smiles, his unclean chin bristling with stubble, the mustache crinkling at the edges with his smile.
The man with the hat turns to Jennifer and smiles. “And what do you wish to tell Jose?”
Jennifer stares dumb founded. Slowly she licks her lips, feeling how dry her throat is and begins to speak.

Hector looks towards Jennifer with his dark smile. He loves the fear in her, the red marks already starting to glow softly against her pale skin. He loves the idea of breaking these whores, humiliating them. Making them prostrate themselves for their own abuse. Jennifer is no different. Another American whore for his men.
As the words come out of her mouth from her lips he savors the sound of each syllable. “P-please whip my breasts,” she says, the tears streaming down her eyes.
Hector’s grin broadens and he nods to Jose. “No!” the girl shrieks, lifting her hands to shield herself, but Jose is quicker, and the cane slaps hard against her chest. She shrieks loudly, tears streaming down her eyes. She cups her breasts in her frail hands. “Remove your hands puta!” yells Jose, kicking her leg out from under her and making her buckle to the floor.
Hector places a hand on the man’s shoulder and shakes his head. The man nods and Hector walks around him. Leaning down he whispers, “You cover those breasts again and I’ll have them cane your back and stomach too. And if again after that I’ll have them cane your legs, neck and face. Understand?”
Her lips is quivering, eyes wide. But she nods. “Good,” he says. “Now say “this whore apologizes for covering her breasts,” and get up and offer them up to Jose again.”
She does not respond, turning away slowly, a shiver visibly running through her body. He steps away, giving her a moment and makes a grunting sound to clear his throat. Jennifer turns to him with a jerk and turns back to Jose. “Thi-this whore a-apologizes for co-covering her b-breasts sir. I-it won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” says Jose, hiding none of his anger in his voice.
Hector nods. The “sir” is a nice touch. Jennifer stands on shaking feet and without hesitation Jose wails into her, slapping her breasts hard. She covers her breasts one handed by instinct but quickly drops both. As soon as they are dropped Jose lashes her hard. Her tit flesh bounces, the bright marks of red showing against her skin. She shrieks loudly with each blow but just manages to keep her hands away from her breasts.
Jose quickly gives Hector the cane and nods, and begins walking to his seat. He is a good man, perhaps he’ll give him the woman’s pussy first.
He notes she has forgotten her line. Maybe they’ll all get a back and stomach whipping too for her misunderstandings. “T-this whore thanks you for the whipping,” says Jennifer as Jose passes by her. Jose stops for a moment and smiles, resting a hand on her shoulder. She flinches visibly.
“Don’t worry putita,” he says, “You’ll have more, trust me!”
He pats her shoulder lightly and begins to laugh. A grin begins to split Hector’s face. This will be a good night.

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Old 07-07-2012, 02:54 AM   #17
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Thank you for the update. I loved it.

I also love your writing style. Keep up the good work!
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Old 07-11-2012, 08:10 AM   #18
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i love the part were she grinds against his fly it's those touches that make me always want to read your stories. thanks
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Old 07-11-2012, 11:15 AM   #19
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Thanks! i'm glad you're enjoying them so well.
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Old 07-24-2012, 01:53 PM   #20
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sorry i've been away for a bit. so i hope this whets your appetite a bit!
*****


The cane caning proceeds at even pace, the American puta screaming and begging them to stop, but with a word the girl through sobbing hiccups thanks each man who whips her breasts. The flesh is a nice mottle of purpling skin and burning red across her bronze skin. Hector licks his lips and smiles. There is even some blood running down some of the cuts.
“Now,” says Hector, “turn around, lower your head and offer them that fine ass for the whipping.” She tries to shake her head, no, but he motions with the cane. “Or should we do your back now?”
She turns away, the tears streaming down her face, mucus clogging her nose and dribbling down the edges. Slowly, she bends over, her nice tanned ass sticking up so everyone can see the beautiful bubble she has. He leans down towards her and says, “Now tell them, this whore needs a spanking and would appreciate it if you would spank her hard.”
He lifts away, loving how she shudders visibly but complies. “Th-this whore wishes f-for a spanking and w-would like you t-to sp-spank her.”
She left out the “hard” he thinks. Maybe he’ll punish her for that later. But whatever. Gonzales stands up quickly ready to take the cane. “No. No,” says Hector. “You disobeyed orders. You will be last.”
“Fuck!” says Gonzales, slamming his open palms on the table. The other men smile visibly, a small amount of chatter running amongst them.
“Be proud I didn’t remove all your privileges for the night,” says Hector, pointing to Gonzales with the end of his cane. “Now,” he says, looking over the men, “Jose, how about you start this little bitch off?”
Jose nods his head obediently, his fat lips curving into a grin. He’s an obese dog, thinks Hector, but an obedient one. It will serve him well.
He hands the cane to Jose who takes it, stroking, rubbing the blood between his fingers that stains the wood. Looking from the girl to the cane he raises it and brings it down hard.

“AAAgghhh!” Jennifer yells, feeling the cane beat on flesh with a loud slap. The pain is excruciating and is soon followed by another. And then another. She counts the blows mentally in her head, trying to grit her teeth as each blow comes down on her. Five blows. Five blows exactly.
She bites her lower lip, drawing blood, her eyes watery, the tears streaming down them. Her ass already burns and with eleven more men to go she still has fifty five more blows to her ass to go. How the hell did it ever come to this? Fuck that bastard Craig! Fuck him to hell.
“Are you forgetting something putita?” says the fat man, lowering his girth to her. She squints her eyes, abhorring the fact that she has to thank these men for the abuse.
“Th-thank you f-for spanking m-me...” she says.
She feels the hand come down on her ass with an audible slap making her yelp. The fat beefy man rubs her end, fondling it. “No problem,” says the fat man. “Soon I’ll give you something else for that big American ass of yours puta.”
“Ye-yes,” she says quietly.
She feels thick fingers gripping her hair, jerking it up. “Don’t let me find you forgetting your lines again puta,” says the fat man with the hat. “Or else they will cane your back seven times apiece!” He spits in her face, some of the sickly fluid making its way beneath her eye lid. She doesn’t even bother to clean it up, a low whine coming from her lips.
Seven? How would her back take seven blows from each man? How...
“Carlos,” says Hector, “you’re next.”
“Thank you padre,” says the man, taking the cane.
Jennifer simply squeezes her eyes shut awaiting the blows.

Hector smiles. The girl takes each blow like a trooper. If a trooper takes it blubbering and crying. But she remembers to thank each man at the end. The blows keep her body shaking, the slap slap followed by her yelps music to his ears. And with each blow that beautiful ass becomes redder and darker, the lashes crisscrossing one another.
Sometimes she falls but she gets up again, leaning back down, her rear end visibly shaking as she prostrates herself and asks the men to continue. And then the screaming begins anew. But it is over too quickly. Ten men finish up with the puta fast and she is on the ground, panting and sobbing, the mucus and tears flowing down.
He taps the cane on his fat hand, looking at Gonzales, considering wether he should give him the cane or not. Finally he relents, but as he hands the cane he keeps hold of it. “Five,” he whispers severely. “No more.”
The man jerks the cane away and nods. Hector is a bit worried about this man, but he will at least give a show.

Thin fingers grip Jennifer’s hair, wrenching her head back. “Remember me puta?” says a man’s voice, thick with whiskey. “I’m back!” He runs his tongue over her ear, making her shiver visibly. “That fine ass of yours, it won’t look so fine when I’m done with it!”
He pushes her head back and shivering she waits for the blows to come down. The first comes down with a loud crackt making her arch her back suddenly, a scream ripping from her lips. The crowd themselves gasps, surprised with the man’s ferocity.
“Come on man!” says one, “you don’t want to break her before we have the chance to stick her!”
“Shut up!” yells the man, and the cane comes crashing down on her tender flesh anew, with vigorous force.
“AAAhhhhh!!” she yells. This is too much! She tries to turn when the blow comes down on her ass again, sending her face forward into the floor with a crunch.
“Keep your face on the floor and you ass in the air puta!” he yells and gives her a sharp kick in the rump for emphasis. She simply cries, keeping her body close to the floor, the tears coming freely and continuously. The next blow comes with frightening force, a crackt echoing from the wood of the cane. She screams, her lungs burning with the expulsion of air but everyone simply stares, clapping hands.
“Come on Jose! Daselo! Daselo!”
The fist pump in the air the chants coming and the final blow lands. It lands with a crunch and a crackt, the cane splitting in two and the end flying across the room and hitting the floor with a thunk, rolling on the incline to sit against a chair leg.
The chairs fall away with a clatter, the men all clapping and applauding. The man who beat her walks around with arms spread wide. “That’s how we treat American trash!” he yells, to the applause and hoots of those gathered.
Jennifer lies curled in a ball, tears streaming down her cheeks, her rear end feeling the same swelling fire her breasts have. She doesn’t care anymore. She presses her hands against her breasts and sobs, her body shaking violently.
“Are you forgetting something puta?” says a voice close to her ear. She simply continues to sob. A boot presses into her face, rubbing its sole against her cheek, making her moan as her teeth grind against her inner cheek wall. “Stupid puta.”
The kick to her back makes her jerk forward, a sharp pain rushing up her. “Get her up!” says the fat man. “We still have one more round with this stupid Gringa.”
As hands reach for her the fat man says, “Jose, you can hit her pussy first. I think she learns properly from men like you.”
The thin fingers grip her bangs, jerking her face towards the sneering one. “You hear that puta? I’m gonna have your pussy first!” His tongue runs over his lips and she simply sobs, her body and soul feeling broken.
Men’s arms grab her, lifting her to her feet and then spreading her legs wide, her pussy spread and glistening to the gathered crowd. It is moist with fear and she screams. “No! Noo! Nooooo!”
The men all laugh and the bald man with the tattoo wrapping around his ear simply taps her sensitive region with the broken cane.
“What a disobedient cunt,” says the fat man with the hat, gripping the man’s shoulder. “You are allowed two extra blows to her pussy. Let her see what it means to be disobedient!”
The man nods, smiling. “Thank you padre.”
“Just teach her a lesson,” says Hector, his eyes small black beads.
“Nooooo!” she screams, her voice hoarse from all the previous cries. But no one listens, their hands simply digging into the flesh of her arms and legs, keeping her spread wide for her attacker.
“Get ready puta,” says the bald man, his arms raised as if he were going to swing a bat and he swing then. The swing coming down before her exposed crotch with a thunderous thud. The scream that echoes from lips then is one of a tortured animal, on its death throes. But those around her simply cheer and chant for the man to do it again.

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