Road to hell

[darkstalker]

a commissioned story of jogger sam who finds herself the subject of rape and torture. enjoy
*******

The alarm blares idly on the night stand and Samantha Zisk brings her palm down on it with a crack, letting the blow push the machine off the table to knock clumsily to the floor. She opens lidded eyes to look down at the blinking red lights, still half groggy from her sleep. The lights burn at her eyes and she squints at them before turning away and looking towards the ceiling.
She has to get up, she thinks. It’s annoying but if she wants to remain fit, she has needs of doing so.
She pushes herself up from the warmth of the mattress, pushing back her hair and quickly grabbing a hair band with which she ties it into a loose tail. Letting the sheet fall away from her body, she glances at her sculpted form, the reason for the lust of so many clear to her.
She smiles darkly. Long has she known of the looks and leers of the men who sat in the gym class or any other as they’d look her over, the sounds of their hands beating at their members as they tried to keep secret what was so obvious. If the sounds of their hands slapping at their thin pricks hadn’t been enough, she could always tell their moans and how their faces would flush, eyes trying to keep from being directed towards her.
She’d always turn away and ignore it, secretly pleased that she could illicit such a response from the opposite gender while outwardly showing a face of scorn. Truly, she marked it as a sign of pride to be able to produce such reactions from the men about her and why shouldn’t she?
She poses in front of the full body mirror briefly, looking over her long, toned legs and her flat stomach, overshadowed by her massive 38D breasts. All of it finished off with her thin neck and narrow pointed face. How could any man truly resist the charms she has to offer? She shakes her hips in a provocative manner and then sighs. It is not without some difficulty though, as she has to waken at these ungodly hours so she may do her exercises.
And though her memory is a fog, she still remembers... something happening a few nights earlier. She brushes it off, dawning her sports gear.
She finds trouble pulling down the top over her formidable chest and lifting the pants over her equally round rear. She grunts as she struggles to dawn her clothing and hisses. This is why she has to do her exercises at such an hour, to keep off that fat that seems to creep up on her no matter how long she does her work out. It’s a constant struggle, but the rewards are worthwhile.
She heads out with these thoughts in mind, pleased at what she can accomplish if she puts her mind to it.

Her legs beat a steady rhythm against the dirty hard earth, taking a path once more that she’s taken several times over since before now. She tries to beat the sleep out of her eyes with the pumping of her legs but feels how her eyes wish to close, shutting on her. She thinks that maybe she’ll head back to bed after the morning exercise. Fortunately, today is her day off, so she needn’t worry about a shift today. Which is good, considering all the shit that had happened to her yesterday which kept her from getting home until an ungodly hour.
It had been a regular uneventful day at her job and Sam had been reorganizing the magazines in the rack as was her duty when the old man had come out of the bathroom. She’d seen him come in earlier. He’d been an old wizened figure with dark, prune like skin and a dirty white beard that was stringy with several tangles layered into it. He had several dark spots where the skin had begun to discolor, his skin seeming to have shrunken in on itself, grasping at his bones. His nose had been a bulbous red, almost like a clown. She’d put aside thoughts of his looks, brushing it off as part of his age and gone about doing her duties.
She’d noticed him head into the bathroom for several minutes before coming out and try to hide amongst the racks away from her sight, but she hadn’t minded. She’d thought perhaps he’d been a little shy, though she’d noticed him glance over at her once or twice, which had brought a shudder over her. It was one thing to have the young men at school lust over her, most of them were decent looking, but another to have some old man who was twice her age doing it. Still, she cleared her mind of it. It wasn’t as if it was the first time someone not her type had lusted for her. She had remembered when obese or really thin men had done the same and she’d learned to put it outside of her mind, so she did with the man, which as she runs, beating across the trail, she thinks maybe that hadn’t been the best idea.
The man had come behind her, standing there for a moment and she’d thought maybe he was looking for one of the magazines from the porn rack she was adjusting, but as she was about to turn around to ask, he’d driven his hand up her skirt and into the warm slit of her cunt. His rough fingers had jammed themselves up her slit, shocking her so much so that she’d leapt forward and banged her head against the wall and lost all thought.
She hadn’t remembered much from then aside from then being in the back of a police van with her legs spread open, the two men looking her over with sour expressions. And though they were officers of the law, bound to protect and serve, she’d found herself covering her body and having to defend her actions as the officers accused her of prostitution and worse. She’d had to agree to a strip search at the station and though the officers had found no drug paraphernalia on her body, they had found trace amounts of semen. She’d wanted to accuse the old man of his wrong doings, but with how the two officers and then the female officer had all been harassing her, she’d dropped it, letting it go. It seemed she wouldn’t get any help from them so best to let it go. This had seemed to make the three angrier, but they’d allowed her to leave with nothing having been resolved from the matter aside from having more men leering at her and calling her insults.
She slows down, bitterness in her heart. She doesn’t simply want to go back home and fall in her sheets in a mess of tears. That won’t help anything. Biting back her anger and sadness, she pushes herself on her legs intending to forget the memory. At least there wasn’t much of one to be had. Truth be told, she had more resentment for the officers than the old man, they having been watching her through the mirror as she undressed. She’s sure of it. Even though the mirror had been dark, she swore she could feel their eyes on her. But what can she do when the perpetrators of the crime are the men of the law themselves?
She shakes her head in frustration and continues down her path, pumping her legs up and down as she moves, trying to rid herself of her stress through the beating of her body.

The vehicle sits idling in the old dirt road, the lights turned off, the men inside masked in shadow, the heat of their cigarettes and lighted drugs warming the stifling vehicle to near unbearable conditions. The men seem not to mind, eyes going red, smoke spewing from cracked lips, cigarette stubs held in rough dry fingers. Each man is large, with a sizeable girth and white hairs flecking their temples and each with a disposition to match their grim looks. As the last man stubs his smoke into the ash tray, they notice that their drugs and smokes are nearly out and this has the effect of leaving them restless and edgy, not to say the least of their considerably cramped conditions.
“That’s the last of it,” says Glen, none too pleased, staring down at the tray forlornly.
“Fuck!” yells Oscar, slamming his elbow into the back of the van’s wall.
“Hey! Hey! Chill!” Glen growls. He is smaller than Oscar but that doesn’t mean he can’t put the smack down on the men when he’s in a bad temper as well. And his mood is none too good considering he too still has an edge from the lack of drugs now left, his eyes wandering over the scattered remains of their last batch, the high slowly fading from his system.
Oscar punches the wall behind him and turns back to Glen. “So when we moving out? Guy I got out in Orleans isn’t gonna’ wait forever, you know!”
“Easy, easy,” says Glen, “we’ll head out. Just another hour or so for some shut eye.”
He yawns and leans back against the van wall, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes to greater emphasize his feelings on the matter. He really does need some sleep. After having been on the road in his sister’s “borrowed” vehicle for several hours, he is more than a little exhausted. She might just be barely noticing her van is missing, along with her stash of drugs. Serves her right for being stoned off her rocker when they came over to the apartment last night.
Though, he thinks, she got lucky, in that he was able to convince the others that she was off limits for sex. Luckily, her age added to that detraction, though just barely. All of them had been in jail for awhile, due to “borrowing” from the neighbors, but he wasn’t about to add rape to his list of crimes. Well... not incest rape at least. He shudders inwardly thinking on what nearly happened. Even as a watcher only, knowing he’d let some men, even friends, fuck his sister while she’s passed out makes him sick. Now... if it were some little homely white bitch who was strolling by who didn’t look like a wrinkled old hag, like his sister, well maybe then... he’d consider it. Until then...
Someone is slapping his shoulder, whispering into his ear. He tries to slap the hand away not paying overly much attention to what is being said. “Let it go, man,” says Glen. “I need my shut eye!”
“You sure?” says Rueben in a much louder voice, his bulk cramming in against Glen uncomfortably. “Cuz’ right now I can sure go for that pussy outside!”
“Pussy?” says Glen, his mind still hazy from the drugs and lack of sleep but coming awake at the idea of sex with someone not his sister.
“Yeah...” says Oscar, his voice sounding high pitched with excitement. “Some Grade A fuck meat! Don’t tell me you’re gonna’ pass on this cuz you’re some kinda’ faggot?”
That gets him up. He pushes himself up against the windows of the van, pushing Rueben aside so he can see better and gets a look of the woman just passing by, just catching a good look at her trimmed back and how her shorts hug her ass so snugly that Glen finds himself rubbing one off already. The shorts hug her so tightly he can see the crack running down the length of her buttocks and swears he can see her mons between her legs. He is already feeling himself as the woman disappears from view down the road.
“Fuck!” says Glen, pushing back away from the window and falling awkwardly on his rear end in an undignified manner. The others look around and smile at one another.
He looks over at the men and notices Billy, the youngest in the group, licking his lips. “Man, oh man. Haven’t had me some pussy in awhile, bro. Would really go for banging that white bitch right now!”
“You said it,” says Oscar in a jovial mood, slapping the man’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” says Rueben. “Grade A pussy!”
Glen sighs, running a hand through his hair. Seems the choice has already been made without him. At least it isn’t his sister this time, so he can join in. Thank heavens. He looks up at the ceiling in gratitude and nods. “Alright then. Seems we have a detour before we head off to New Orleans!”
He notices Oscar’s lips twist into a grin and he knows that same smile is plastered against his own lips. Just thinking about that woman’s pussy turns him on, and he didn’t even get a good look at her. He grunts and nods, “Alright gents, let’s get started.”
There is a loud cheer in the vehicle, followed by great whoops of excitement. As soon as everyone has moved into position in the shaky machine, the engine roars to life, revving with its frightening motor and shambles forward on rickety springs, coming out onto the hard packed earth in search of its quarry.

Samantha’s legs pump effortlessly in the early morning sun, a burn running up her legs. Her breasts swing back and forth in her top, her bra just barely holding them so they don’t discomfort her so. Though that does nothing to prevent the sweat that drips down her cleavage or that which comes down over her eyes, which she hastily wipes away. Her shorts are digging into her hips even through her panties and she rubs her hand between her legs idly, trying to dislodge the material from where it is biting into her vaginal lips. No good, her body is too sweaty. She sighs, slowing down around the bend so that she can stop and remove the garment from her genitals, but what she sees around the bend makes her stop in her tracks completely.
It’s the rusty old van from twenty minutes ago. She’s sure of it and as she sees the driver lift his head, looking at her with his greasy face and dark mustache, she has it confirmed. He’s the same one she’d flipped off earlier when he’d been leering at her from the vehicle and here he is, leering at her again! The man waves at her with a wrinkly hand and she turns away in disgust, not even bothering to check her watch. It’s been a long enough run for the day, she’ll call it enough now and head home. Besides, she really needs a shower to get all this muck off. Hopefully those men don’t bother her on the way back.
As if the gods mock her, she hears the motor revving up in the old vehicle and curses her luck. The men are following her! And without any form of money on her, she’s fairly certain she knows what it is that these men want. Fuck! She pumps her legs faster, pushing her body for more energy. She’s not about to let these greasy old perverts rape her!
As she’s running back along the dirt path, she sees the old abandoned park she used to use when she was a kid several years ago. It is old and dirty, like the van following behind her, with the rides and amenities in disrepair but it might be enough to lose the van. She makes a bee line for it, hoping that she can lose the men along the difficult to traverse hills and kiddy rides. Sadly, she doesn’t see the man hunkered down by the bushes as she is running past.
A shadow bolts up from the bushes, large and heavy, swinging his arm around her waist in a painful grip. Because of the momentum from her run, he doesn’t manage to get a proper hold of her body, instead tossing her backwards in a heap across the grass.
Shock and fear envelope Samantha, immobilizing her temporarily, slowing her down as she tries to stand back up. There’s more of them, she thinks. Oh god!
She just barely manages to stand on her two legs before the man is on top of her again, his hand whipping out and grabbing a handful of her hair. He jerks her up by the hand, making her cry out, the veins bulging on her neck as she grits her teeth, feeling as his hand is jerking her neck back painfully and then something hard slams into her stomach, and she finds herself doubling over from the pain, the agony of the blow making her see spots before her.
“No running, chica,” says the man. “We still want to play with you.” She hears him laughing and she tries to get up from her nearly bent over position.
“No....” she whispers in a groan, trying to move away, but finding the pain swirling in her stomach to be too much but to allow her to make much more than an awkward step away from the man. Hardly enough to avoid the large, heavy individual who approaches her with a grinning scowl. In the back of her mind she hears the black van stopping somewhere behind her, doors opening with slamming jerks as men yell at one another to grab her. Her mind screams danger and Sam starts to turn, intending to run in her limping state when a hard body slams into her, nearly knocking her over if not for a pair of tough, calloused hands gripping her shoulders suddenly.
“Now, where does a sweet thing like you think she’s going?” says a dark man’s drawling voice.
She looks up into the large man’s beady black eyes, his yellowed teeth shining against his dark skin and just barely resist the urge to scream, a fit of coughing taking her as she holds her stomach, the pain still making it too much to move properly.
“Ah,” he says. “You seem to be in some kind of trouble. Here... let me help you up!”
With one hand still on her right shoulder, the large hulking man leans down, his other hand slipping between the space of her hips and grabs, pulling hard on her crotch, squeezing, his thumb happening to be on the spot where the hood of her clitoris is, crushing down on it and letting her weight fall back on her genitals as she is lifted bodily into the air. And now, as the pain in her stomach is forgotten, Sam finds the air in her lungs to scream...

Oscar runs out as fast as he can when the fucking van finally stops, none too soon. He swings the door open, pushing Billy aside in his haste to get outside. He hears Billy cursing behind him but doesn’t worry about it. The thoughts of this girl motivate him too strongly. He remembers her nice large jiggling breasts, her body wet with sweat and that ass... That nice plump ass, all his to maul and abuse. All of it! No one was gonna’ beat him to it! As he’d felt his adrenaline charge up, pushing through his body in spurts, he runs up to the girl, she nearly doubling over, trying to turn away from Rueben who’d simply been taking his time with her, enjoying her agonies.
That’s no way to treat a woman, Oscar thinks and turns her around brusquely. Bitch really has a massive set just like he’d initially thought, his fingers squeezing on her shoulders, making the girl wince and whisper something stupid in his face as he looks over those large and firm tits, with their nipples pointed erect even through the material. How he’d love to mash those meat bags up and make the bitch howl. The girl says something else, looking at him with large blue eyes, but he’d ignores that, simply looking back down at her chest, feeling his member tenting in his pants. He simply smiles, ignoring whatever stupid thing the girl has to say and lets his hand trail down her body, briefly stopping at her tits to feel along the edges before going down for her more intimate regions and then he digs his fingers in, enjoying the look of horror coming across the woman’s face as he suddenly grabs at her crotch and begins pulling, pushing her up into the air.
She screams then. A wail like a fucking banshee, this bitch. Hurts his ears like all hell, but he isn’t about to let go of this piece of meat after just barely touching it. Uh-uh. He digs his fingers into her well oiled cunt deeper, nearly pushing them into her slit through her spandex uniform. He can already feel it getting damp with fear as the girl starts kicking and swinging wildly, trying to dislodge him, much good that it does her.
Still... the hits are annoying and he finds himself wishing he could simply throw her around a bit, especially after one blow finds its way to his upper lip, mashing it against his teeth. He grunts in discomfort, trying to ignore the thrashing going about as if he’s holding some type of dog instead of a woman. He can taste blood on his lip. That’s really annoying. Bitch is gonna’ pay for that.
He takes her to the van, carrying her over and ignoring the men around him who laugh at the whole scene as the woman twist in his grip, another blow finding itself just to the right of his left eye. Hurts like a dickens too. That’s it, he thinks.
Reaching the van, he lets go of her shoulder while still gripping her pussy, squashing it with his hand as if he wants to rip it off, which a part of him really does. But another part wants her to hurt in a whole different way and he grips her throat and slams the back of her head against the van, the window cracking with a crunch as her head jumps off it.
“Alright bitch,” he says, pushing down against her throat more forcibly, her mouth hanging agape and tongue lolling out as her eyes begin to roll up in her skull. “This is how it’s gonna’ go down. Me, you and the boys, we’re gonna have us all a nice big cum fest and if you do good, we’ll let you live. If not...”
He grips her neck, pulling her from the window and then slams her back against it, another rippling crack sounding from behind her skull.
“If not,” he says, “well, we can always have fun sending you to the hereafter too.”

The pain against her vagina would be enough, thinks Samantha, as those large fingers push into her sensitive slit and crush her clit against her body but then the huge brute of a man is also crushing her throat, crushing her wind pipe, making it near impossible to breathe! As she gasp, slapping futilely at the man’s large arms, layered in thick veins, she thinks, she’s going to die!
“Hey bitch,” says the large man, his clawed fingers running up against her vagina. “Don’t pass out on me yet!”
With these words his nails rake across her sensitive organ, tearing away a piece of her spandex suit that she hears somewhere in the back of her mind. The man’s wicked smile and continuing crushing of her wind pipe make her loose her bowels, a stream of urine running down her legs as her heart begins to beat faster, fear running through her system.
Her vision has blurred thanks to the brute slamming her head repeatedly against the driver side window, and she feels something warm trailing down the back of her skull. Warm and sticky as it comes down across her skin, making her shiver. She stares imploringly at the man before her, hoping to see some spark of compassion, of humanity... something that she might appeal to in her hopes that this thing might not kill her. But all she sees is a dark hatred burning within those small black eyes.
Hatred and as she watches his face with tongue flicking out over his upper lip, a violent lust. She whimpers as she feels that hand on her throat squeezing harder and her eyes roll up in her head, the oxygen to her lungs thinning, her hands slipping away from the giant’s great arms along with the oxygen and then there is only darkness...

“Hey! Hey!” says Billy, slapping at Oscar’s large arms. “Stop it! We want her alive, you idiot!”
“You do,” says Oscar, as the woman’s arms fall limply to her sides, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, head hanging to the side in a none too attractive look. “But I don’t.”
The man drops her to the floor with a thud and Billy rushes over, kneeling down and putting his ear to her chest. There is a thump-thump repeating inside, soft and low, but it’s there...
He sighs, wiping new forming sweat from his brow. One that has nothing to do with lust and everything to do with fear. He doesn’t want to kill the bitch. They don’t even know her. Just ... fuck her.
And as he looks over at the woman’s large and formidable breasts, he feels his member tenting against his pants, watching the rise and fall of those large melons. He leans a hand forward and slips it under her top, slowly stroking the sizeable meat, kneading it between his fingers. It truly is large and magnificent.
“Hey Billy,” says Glen, kicking him in the calf, none too gently. “Stop playing with yourself and bring the bitch over to the table.”
He looks towards the man who just looks down at him with a sour expression on his face before turning away, hands in his pockets as if nothing is really going on, but Billy can see it, saw it before Glen turned away, how his pants are pushing out at the front. The man himself is excited, eager to touch the bitch.
Billy looks down at the whore himself and smiles.
“Yeah,” he whispers, “everyone wants a piece of this candy.”
“Well, then hurry up and bring her over,” says Oscar, his massive shape looming over him.
“Well, why don’t you...” says Billy, turning, when he sees what’s in Oscar’s hand. It’s a piece of spandex, ripped away from the woman’s body no doubt and dangling with wet liquid. He hadn’t noticed when the man had torn away his hand with the fabric, only that he did. Billy grins and nods.
“Well, help me move this bitch over to the table then.”
The large man looks back towards the picnic table, nearly hidden by a small hump of earth then back at the woman on the floor and nods. It’ll be a good enough location to put her up for a bit and fuck. With the hill and the van in the way, no quick passerby will notice anything much out of the ordinary.
“Yeah,” he says silently, gripping the woman by the ankles as Billy puts his arms just under her chest, basically hugging her breasts to his body, enjoying the nice soft feel of the flesh between his fingers. Yeah, thinks Billy, everyone wants a piece of this bitch. Everyone.

The two lay her on the rickety old table with a thud, her body swinging to one side for a moment, head falling to the left, lips parted as if wanting one of them to push his member in between those plump red lips. Her eyes flutter as if desirous of the act.
The men’s eyes wander over her body, resting on her large breasts. Double D’s, no doubt about it. They watch the woman’s breasts rise and fall, heaving against the tight spandex, her nipples erect and hard, easily visible through the material. Sweat drenches her body, running down in between the cleavage making the fabric look sticky and almost translucent.
As their eyes travel lower along the length of her form, they can see where Oscar has torn away a piece of fabric, her legs easily spread wide, part of her labia visible to them with a thin slit in between, the fabric torn away from her so much so that her clitoris is visible, the excitement from earlier making the bud rise out from its protective hood. Urine still dribbles down her parted legs, a thick pungent odor filling the air, making the men all the harder, their hands all within their trousers, stroking their members with long hard strokes.

“Enough of this shit,” says Oscar, moving towards the woman’s top. Though he was closest to her legs, how she urinated along the length of his left leg has left him a bit sore and he’d rather not be smelling more of her piss. So he grabs her breasts between two hands, squeezing them tight so the nipples are pointed straight up at him and he leans down, biting down on one through the material, suckling at it and then pulling at it with his teeth. The woman moans but her dress protects her from the man’s mauling.
“Alright,” he says, “let’s strip this bitch down!”
His hands travel beneath her top and roughly pull down on the material, jerking her body up. Other hands quickly hold her down to increase the force against the fabric and it is soon tearing away, Oscar enjoying the stripping of the woman as if he were tearing away the wrapping from a present. He jerks the tight material first to the left, then to the right, each time ripping away a piece of the tight spandex. Billy is on the side, grabbing smaller pieces as he holds her down and pulls away at the material himself. Her breasts, however; remain immobile as they are still held firmly in place by her sports bra. Well, he’ll soon get that shit out the way, he thinks, as he continues to shred the woman’s top away.

Rueben for his own part, is enjoying being between the woman’s legs and leans forward, sniffing at the strong odors coming from between her parted thighs, taking it in deeply and then exhaling, blowing softly along her pussy lips, watching her shudder. She is much more sensitive here than she is at her top.
He hears a soft thud and looks to his left as Glen takes off her running shoe, throwing it aside and then begins to pull away her sock. The man looks towards Rueben and says, “hey, you not going help strip the bitch? Get stripping!”
Rueben sighs. These ingrates have no way of appreciating a woman’s softer flavors, but they’re right, might as well get down to business. He takes hold of the already torn fabric at her hips, started by Oscar and begins to pull, slowly revealing her beautiful pussy to all. He smiles, enjoying the sight of her body as it is revealed to him piece by piece. And soon, he’ll be able to play with it and dig in deep into her body. He licks his lips in the anticipation of that feeling.

Rueben licks his lips, savoring the actions he is intent on doing and thrust three fingers into the woman’s body at once, enjoying how her body suddenly goes rigid with the motion, her back arching and neck pulsing with its veins throbbing, her beautiful mouth opening just slightly with her lips quivering and her eyes fluttering. Rueben watches and grins.
Though unconscious, her body seems to react to his stimuli, her hips thrusting upwards as his fingers methodically push in and out of her sickly wet womanhood. They slap against her lips with wet sloshing sounds, his fingers beating down on the woman’s body down to the knuckles. Rueben’s eyes gleam bright, his smile spreading to a wide show of his teeth. He’ll show this cunt why no one gives him the finger.
The woman, as she’d been running by and seen him watching her from the van parked alongside the road, had given him the finger, looking over at him and his crew of men quite crudely. He doesn’t like that and thinks that a proper lesson is in order, and as he watches the woman’s clit rise up, becoming more engorged with blood and hormone, cruel thoughts run through his mind.
“Hey Billy...” he says, “Let’s see if I can’t get this woman excited before you return with supplies. Why don’t you get them from the van? Get the tire iron, with a greased end, of course, and some duct tape and then the pliers for good measure? No?”
Billy scratches his head but nods, disappearing over the hill. Rueben is licking his lips, enjoying the soft moans coming from the woman’s lips, her body reacting as he’d hoped to his gentle, if quick, prodding. It will make what he has planned for her all the more cruel and wicked and he feels the precum pushing at the head of his cock in his anticipatory excitement. It will be quite the show...

Billy wanders off to the vehicle, kicking up the grass in a huff, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t like being the water boy for the group, or paperboy or whatever. It isn’t fair that he has to be off doing errands while the others get to make the woman squirm uncomfortably. But then... what Rueben wants makes Billy uncomfortable as well.
He’s heard stories...
Heard of an old girlfriend Rueben had. How the man used to beat her during sex and then torture her, leaving her labia and clit all swollen and bleeding, her breasts a mess of tatters and how her nails were generally missing from both her fingers and feet. It makes Billy shudder, but as he goes about picking up the tools, he thinks, he really needs to man up and accept things like they are. It’s a new world and people have fetishes that are considered weird, anyways. Might as well take it for what it’s worth and enjoy the show.
He finds the tools easily enough, greasing the end of the tire iron with enough goop that it’s running down the length of the metal rod. He can probably imagine what it’s for, thinking of how it’ll likely go into the woman’s vag or maybe her asshole, that tight little fit which should really make her squirm. He can imagine her back arching, lips opening in a delayed scream before she lets out that cry, her large tits bouncing upwards, inviting him to bite into them...
He finds his member tenting at the idea, pushing at his trousers and he shakes his head. Maybe he’s not so different from Rueben after all? Pushing the thought aside, he grabs the tools and heads back to the park bench with a lighter spring to his step. These activities should in the very least, be enjoyable to watch.

It takes Billy long enough to arrive, thinks Rueben, as the woman is arching her back, thrashing about on the table enough so that Oscar and Glen who have been playing with her breasts are starting to complain about it. Her body is reacting particularly fondly to the stimulus of his fingers, thrusting inside her as if they were a man’s penis and moans in her desired appreciation of such. Her clit is truly engorged and large now and Rueben thinks it’s enough. He pulls his fingers out of her warm slit and slaps her labia with a hard blow, making the woman moan, but otherwise calm down, her thrashing nearly ceasing.
He lifts his dirty fingers to his nose, sniffing the fragrant odor of the woman’s urine encrusted body and runs his tongue along the length of his digits, suckling on them hungrily. She taste good and salty. Good enough that he’ll enjoy shoving his ram rod up her tight hole and make her holler.
When Billy finally does arrive, he instructs the man to take the woman’s arms above her head and tie her wrist together. For his own part, he takes the pliers and iron, laying down the pliers between her beautifully wide spread legs and runs his finger over the grease of the iron, taking a good quantity on his digit and then pushes it against her puckered asshole. He circles her anus, making sure it’s nice and greasy before pushing his digit into her tight hole, loving how even with his finger, her anal passage tightens up, squeezing at it and pulling at it, suckling on it hungrily. He chuckles and pushes his finger in and out, enjoying how the woman moans, her voice truly sounding out now.
As he looks over, he realizes Glen is massaging her clit, rubbing it between two fingers, keeping it engorged. Rueben chuckles and pulls his digit out, her anus bubbling with the glop from the grease left behind.
“Now,” says Rueben, nodding knowingly. “Now we can begin with the real fun.”
“Go for it,” says Glen, looking over at the two other men who seem to make it a point to ignore the two, they too engrossed with the woman’s upper torso to bother with what their compatriots do to her pussy.
Rueben notes how quick Billy had to have been with wrapping her wrist up in tape to be there, mauling her breasts hungrily, his mouth taking the orb in and suckling on it noisily, teeth scraping along the length of the body. Oscar is no different, sucking first and then squeezing her tit to make it more round and juicier to look at before he sinks his teeth into the warm body, biting down hard enough that when he pulls away he leaves an imprint of teeth along her tit. The woman for her part, moans in discomfort, disliking the waves of pain her system sends to her brain.
Rueben lifts the tire iron, grinning ear to ear. If she doesn’t like that, he thinks, she’ll like this far less. “Billy!” he growls, come down here and hold one of her ankles. Don’t need the bitch to make this any harder than it already is. You too Glen,” he says with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show.”
Glen grins, a malicious light flickering over his eyes as he grips her ankle alongside Billy, both men pulling her legs wide apart, making her body seem even more inviting. Her slit seems to quiver in anticipation, but it’s another hole he has in mind for the hard iron.
Rueben feels the hard length of the tire iron in his hand, unyielding and hard, like a real man needs to be. He slowly begins to feed the iron into the woman’s body, pushing it against that puckered asshole. At first it looks as if the iron might be too big, even with the grease around it and that it will simply slip off, but after a few pushes, Rueben is able to get the thing to push inside. Slowly he begins pushing it and the woman moans, bringing her bound hands down unconsciously to block out the intrusion. Rueben slaps her wrist away.
“Hey Oscar,” he barks. “Play with her tits all you want but keep her arms out of my business!”
“Fuck you,” Oscar retorts, but grabs her wrist anyways, slamming them down on the table none too gently. The man goes back to mauling her tits, tugging at her breast meat while holding her arms down, the woman moaning in distress. He respects that, Rueben thinks, that ruthless ferocity. And speaking of such...
Now that her anus is firmly holding the iron in place, her slit being pulled down by it, spreading open like a flower, inviting him to use it, Rueben can’t help but smile, the tension in his body building, his arm shaking at what he is about to do.
He holds it for several seconds, counting down from five
four...
Three..
Two...
and when he reaches one... he slams the length of the rod up the woman’s sphincter in such a way that her scream makes Oscar jump back in fear.
Rueben watches. Watches as that lovely body tightens up against that hard rod, trying to push it out but only working to hold it in tighter, her voice crying out as her large breasts swing, voice sounding like a banshee’s wail as those tits point skywards. Yes, he thinks, it certainly is a beautiful thing.

The pain had been coming in and out in spurts for Samantha. Her dreams becoming twisted shadows of reality, warping and dancing through one another, long inky black arms and claws grasping at her, ripping at her breasts and hips. In her dreams she screams, trying to block the forced probing of her body, but no matter what she does, it seems to do no good as the creatures with blurred black faces find a way around her defenses, gripping her tender flesh, sinking curved nails in and biting down with twisted fangs. Sam screams, hearing the echo of laughter from the phantoms.
Then she feels something probing her anus, something that is pushing in and as it is shoved forth with a sudden energy, she wakens, her eyes popping open, wide with fear. The pain of the anal intrusion as her sphincter grips the intruder tightly, sends shafts of pain racing through her body and she cries out, her lungs letting out all the air within them as she feels the pain ring in her mind. Her body reacts the only way it knows and she screams automatically, her back arching as the pain races through her.
The ghouls around her continue to laugh raucously and she shakes her head, tears forming at her eyes. “N-no...” she says, trying to work her voice through the agonies of her body. “Stop!...”
A hard blow races across her face, making her ears ring, a man’s hand squeezing her cheeks tightly as he threatens her. “Shut up you stupid whore or you’re going to get worse!”
She stares, her eyes widening, the forms of the ghouls taking more concrete shape as they turn into the shadows of men. She can just make out their features behind their kerchiefs and the light clears, the dullness from her mind fading, waking to the pain at her anus that is all too real.
“You listen and you listen good,” says the man, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. “We’re going to fuck you, and fuck you hard. And that black man behind you?”
The man in question grips her breasts, making her wince, his mouth splitting into a wide grin as he looks down at her with a smile. “That man,” says the one between her legs. “He’s going to fuck your throat raw. And you’re going to enjoy it if you know what’s good for you!”
She stares up at the large man, tears running down her eyes as she considers the man’s size, he being all too content to pull down his dirty pants, his large member flinging itself outwards towards her, springing around like a huge snake. She stares at the large purple head, tears welling up in her eyes as she looks it over, thinking it has to be too large for her to properly take in to her mouth. How is she ever going to do this?
Another slap resounds against her face. “This ain’t no democracy,” she hears the large man say. “Now get sucking bitch!”
Having little choice in the matter, Samantha sticks out her tongue tentatively as the man holds her head back, flicking her tongue out over the member, twisting her face up in distaste as she feels the sweat and malodorous smell coming off his staff. Soon she is pulling out her tongue once more, running it along the length of the shaft and opening her mouth as wide as it can go, slowly closing over the head of the cock in her mouth.
This apparently wasn’t quick enough for the behemoth above her and he starts shoving his member into her mouth all at once, pushing it as far as it can go before holding it there. Sam struggles to breathe around his member as it is lodged in her throat, forcing her gag reaction. She beats at his legs with her tied arms, fighting futilely as the man holds her head against his member, his sharp hairs jabbing at her nose. When he pulls out, she is coughing hard, gasping for air.
“You like that bitch?” he coos, still holding her head back. “Well here comes another go!”
Sam barely has time to prepare before the member is shoved back in to her mouth, thrusting in and out at a slower rhythm but fast enough and deep enough that it is still painful, the gagging reflexes in her throat still sounding and trying to force the large member out. Part of her mind is aware something is rubbing at her slit, but it doesn’t register until the thing slams deep into her vagina in a sharp, painful thrust. Then she screams with the thing in her mouth.

Rueben contents himself at first with simply rubbing his member along the woman’s slit, his scrotum rubbing against it as well, bouncing on the cold metal of the tire iron. He’d had to stand on his toes to get it above the hard metal and now it rest there, being chilled by the thing, pushing down on it so the woman can feel her guts twisting up, not that he cares.
All he cares about is the feel of her slit and it feels heavenly! It teases the length of his manhood, sending sharp shafts of pleasure up its length. Soon, Rueben is finding himself getting hard despite the cold of the hard metal, it starting to become slick with his warming sweat. Soon, he thinks, he’ll shove this into the bitch’s warm slit and ram it in hard. Then she’ll be sorry, oh so sorry!

Oscar jerks his member out none too soon, just barely missing the bitch’s teeth clamping down on his manhood as she screams. He feels at one of her teeth nipped at the skin of member and he slaps her across the face, hard, enough to split her lip.
“Don’t ever do that again, bitch!” he yells.
“But it hurts!” she cries in a pained expression and Oscar can see Rueben jabbing her vag with his thin member, driving it in like a drill while his body pushes down on the crowbar, jabbing into her stomach.
“So what?” he grunts, slapping her for good measure. “I don’t care.”
Rueben laughs, beginning to thrust in faster, holding the young woman’s legs apart, spreading them wide so he can slam into her cervix all the harder. Though he’d have liked to have used her mouth more, Oscar nods, enjoying the show. He’s seen how Rueben does his whores and he always enjoys watching.

Samantha had nearly bit down on the length of the man’s shaft when the other one at her hips had begun to stab down at her with his manhood. It had been so large and sudden that she’d nearly shut her teeth on the other large man’s member, her mouth snapping down just barely out of reach of his skin. The taste of his foulness is still in her mouth but it is soon forgotten when compared to the gorge trying to make its way into her tight canal.
“No!” she groans, “oh god! Stop!”