Mark Townsend

White captive

CHAPTER ONE

The low powerful sports car pulled smoothly into the long curved driveway and came to a silent stop before the large darkened two-story colonial-type house. The lights switched off, throwing the well kept grounds and garden into greater blackness. Inside, the boy reached over and pulled the young, silken-haired girl close to him and locked his lips tightly to hers. There was only the sound of a heavy impassioned breathing for a moment and then a small abrupt cry from the girl.

"Richard! Darling, please don't."

She struggled a moment with his hand, pulling it with hesitant force from beneath the top of her thin white-veneered formal. He resisted, and then let it be pushed limply away.

"Susan, for God's sake! We're engaged now. At least you could let me touch you."

"Oh, darling, I know, I know," she moaned against him. "I want you to touch me as much as you want to, but we just can't. Not before we're married."

"That's a good four years away and you know it," the boy objected. "I-I just don't think I can wait that long. It's driving me crazy already."

"Darling, we've just got to wait. It'll go by so fast we won't even know it, particularly with you away at college and me working. And we'll appreciate it so much more. You know we will."

She dropped her head to his shoulder and began to sob gently. Susan knew her arguments sounded childish to Richard, but in spite of even her own temptations that were growing more and more intense with each time he touched her, she could not bring herself to let him go too far. She remembered only too vividly the promises she had made to her father of being a good girl just before he died several months ago. He had been the most wonderful man in the world, and had been so deeply hurt by her brother's running away that she just couldn't go back on her promises to him now. She was sure that wherever he was, he would somehow know if she let him down. But, explaining this to Richard sounded so foolish she hadn't even bothered to try. She was certain he was beginning to think she didn't really care for him at all and this just was not true.

Richard sat still for a moment beside her, his arm hanging limply around her shoulders and then slowly began to stroke her hair with a comforting softness.

"All right, darling. I-I think I know how you feel and I'll try to hold myself back."

"Oh, Richard, I promise when we're married, I'll make it all up to you. Every moment darling," she cried with frustration into his shoulder.

"Hey, wait a minute," he kidded, regaining his composure, "this isn't a forever promise. Every man has the right to unlimited tries. Particularly, with his own fiancee."

"Oh you nit," she raised her head and laughed nervously, wiping the tears from her eyes with her handkerchief. "I had better get in the house before my mother wakes up and comes out and drags me in by the hair. She just might have a few harsh words for you too."

"I just imagine she's out to the world," he laughed. "I saw Dad and Mr. Grover helping her out to the car about an hour ago at the club. None of them were in the best of shape."

"Well, your mother wasn't doing too well, either, Mr. Evans," she said sarcastically. "As I recall, they had to send her home about ten o'clock. She could hardly walk."

"Touche," he laughed again, "these country club parties are all alike, just one big contest to see who can make the biggest fool of themselves."

"I know," Susan's brow suddenly wrinkled and a serious tone came to her voice. "Mom seems to have changed in that respect. I've never seen her this bad before in my life."

"She's still just in a state of shock from your father's death," Richard consoled, holding her hand softly. "She'll he all right."

"I hope so," she whispered. "She seems to have changed so much since Dad's will came out. I think it hurt her more than he realized it would."

"Now listen, honey, you stop worrying about that. If your dad thought he could trust your mother with all that money he would have left it to her instead of in trust for you. Besides, she has a good substantial income guaranteed for life. What more could she want?"

"I-I don't know. But it almost seems sometimes as if she hates me more than anything else in the world. I-I think she even blames me for Billy running away."

"Oh, Susan," he admonished. "She's just jealous of you being your father's favorite. And, if she hadn't lavished so much attention on that weak-livered sissy then maybe your father could have respected him as a son."

"Richard, you stop that," she shouted at him in sudden anger. "What right do you have to sit there and criticize my family that way?"

"Because, damn it," he shouted back, "they're going to be my family too, one of these days, remember?"

"Well I just don't know about that," Susan ansered in a huff as she opened the door on her side and started from the car.

"Oh Suzy, damnit again, I'm sorry," he grabbed her arm and apologized softly. "I'm just so much in love with you that I hate to see you hurt in any way, and I know you are being hurt."

"I don't care," she sobbed back at him. "That still gives you no right to run down my mother and Billy that way. They're all I've got left and they are my family."

"Suzy, stop being ridiculous. I know they are your farnily but that doesn't mean you have to suffer over them like this. They have no right to do that to you."

"I-I think we had better talk about this later," she said, trying to hold back the flood of tears that were beginning to build in her eyes. "I don't even like to be near you when you talk like this."

She stepped back and slammed the door shut, her heart beating wildly in hurt and anger. She turned and started up the stairs without looking back and heard the angry screech of tires behind her as Richard gunned the car down the driveway, and out the gate. She slumped against the door for a moment, cradling her head in the crook of her arm and then slowly opened it and entered. She felt so empty inside and wished she could make Richard understand about her mother and Billy, but it all seemed so hopeless. He just didn't give her a chance to try and explain the way he should have done if he really loved her. Sometimes, she doubted that he really and truly did love her. Yes, he liked her and very much, but did he really understand what love was all about. Did he know that it involved more than just necking in the car and "making out" as he termed it? Did he understand that it included helping her, or at least, trying to be patient with her when she had a problem of this magnitude?

Susan tip-toed through the hallway toward the kitchen. She didn't want to awaken her mother and have to go through any kind of questions and answer games that she had become so adept at playing recently. She just couldn't understand what had come over mother since her father's death – with all her intimate questions about what she did out in the car with Richard and so on. Some of them had been so blunt and direct she had almost been too embarrassed to answer and she was just in no mood to have to go through that tonight. She would just have her glass of milk and get to bed without making a sound.

She opened the swinging door to the kitchen and quietly slipped inside. The light was still on and several half-filled bottles of liquor were open on the counter next to the sink. Someone had obviously been having a good party. No doubt, Richard's father and Mr. Evans had come inside and had a few drinks when they brought her mother home.

My God, she found herself thinking, how on earth could they take anymore after the way they had behaved at the club. She had been embarrassed at the way her mother had been dancing with all the men who kept asking turns with her. It had seemed as though she had been trying to seduce them right on the dance floor. She had said something to Richard about it but he had laughed it off as just one of the standard country club occurrences and had pointed out several other prominent women who had been behaving as equally foolish. This had helped a little but not much, and she had been happy when the two men had volunteered to drive her mother home early. She certainly was in no condition to do it herself.

Susan started to open the refrigerator to get the milk, changed her mind and turned back to the half-empty bottles on the counter. She still felt a little light-headed from the small amount Richard had slipped in their Cokes at the club and decided quickly that perhaps another little bit might help get her out of this foul mood and get to sleep faster. Things had been piling up on her so fast in the last few months she could hardly stand it.

She took a glass from the shelf and poured herself a small amount, thought again, and poured the glass half-full. Might as well really sleep, she thought with a girlish giggle, filling the glass the rest of the way with Coke and lifting it to her lips. She drained half the glass, feeling the warm liquid relaxing her almost instantaneously as it hit bottom. She was ravenously hungry and that seemed to help speed the welcomed nerve settling reaction to the warm smooth alcohol. She finished it and filled the glass again to take upstairs with her. The light-headed tingle running through her mind helped no end and she didn't want it to stop before she got to sleep. She was afraid of the thoughts she would have to think, and right now would prefer to put if off until tomorrow. There was nothing she wanted to do at this moment but sleep and forget everything.

She carried the drink in her hand and began the slow quiet climb to the top of the steps leading to the second floor. She held tight to the rail and took each step holding her breath. Her mother's bedroom was right on the landing at the top of the steps and she just couldn't wake her now, not carrying a drink like this and coming in so late. There was no telling how long she would have to sit and listen to the lecture she was certain to get if she were caught.

She held her breath tight as she reached the top of the steps and noticed the light on from under her mother's door. Oh God, she thought, she's awake and waiting up for me. I'll have to stop by and say good night to her now or I'll never hear the end of it tomorrow. She took a few guarded steps in the direction of her room to the right, and placed the drink she was carrying on the hall table. She pushed it behind the vase in the center of the table so that if her mother came out, she wouldn't be able to see it in the semi-darkness that covered the landing.

Susan straightened herself up bravely and walked to her mother's door. She raised her fist to knock and suddenly froze to the floor.

There was a groan from the room!

Oh my God, she's hurt, she thought, and her first reaction was to jerk the door open as fast as she could. She reached for the handle in the darkness and as her hand came into contact with the cool metal door knob, she froze again.

There was a harsh male laugh!

Good Lord, what was going on? Who was in there with her and what was he doing to her? It sounded as though he were hurting her.

There was another groan but it was longer this time and had an unearthly pleading tone to it as though someone were being tortured. The groan was followed by harsh slapping sounds as though someone were being hit across the face with a hand.

Susan dropped her hand from the door handle and started to back away, holding her breath and moving as softly as she possibly could. If she could just get to a phone and call the police before they discovered her, perhaps she could save her mother's life. She stepped back a few paces in the darkness, being careful not to trip, and then turned to work her way down the stairs. There was phone in the hall just below the stairs. If she could make that, she could talk in a whisper and who ever it was beating her mother could not hear it. It was then that the pleading voice spoke again.

"Oh God! Yessss, yessss, do it to me like that!"

It was her mother again and her voice was drunkenly slurred in a desperate pleading tone she had never heard before. Susan paled in the darkness and stood still for a moment. She was uncertain what to do now. The man was obviously hurting her but it didn't sound like it was against her will the way she was almost crying for him to continue. What should she do? Perhaps he was making her plead with him – perhaps he was a sadist like some of the men she had read about in her psychology course and enjoyed hearing a woman beg.

She was almost ready to begin her descent down the stairs to phone again when the noises suddenly grew louder. There was a second male voice that she could not make out too distinctly through the heavy thickness of the door, but it was unmistakably egging someone on to do something to her mother. Her voice was muffled and sobbing but clearly not against her will. She was asking for it, in fact, pleading for more. Susan stood breathlessly on the landing, trying to make up her mind what to do. She couldn't call the police or anyone else unless she was certain what was going on.

She had to find out and there was only one way!

She took a deep breath and worked her way slowly and silently back toward the door. She knew it by heart now – after all the times she had slipped from her own room as a child to that of her parents when she had been frightened by a bad dream or strange noise in the house. She could remember vividly, even after all these years, the exact amount of pressure to put on the knob to turn it without making a sound. All of it came back to her as she reached forward through the darkness and pressed her hand against it. Her whole body tensed as it turned slightly, and she felt it begin to give against the pressure.

There was a squeak!

Her heart stopped and she dared not breath. They must have heard it; it had been so loud. But no, there were still the strange noises coming through the door without letup, their intensity increasing with each passing moment. The door gave a little against her gentle pressure and the noises through the opening became more clear to her senses. She could discern the sounds of heavy rushed breathing and the staccato sounds of squeaking bedsprings punctuated by animal-like grunts and moans of pain and pleasure. A thin crack of light rushed into the hallway as she inched the door open a millimeter at a time. The light blinded her and she could not see for a moment – but the sounds continued unabated by her silent and unknown intrusion.

Her eyes adjusted to the intensity of the narrow path of light streaming into her face and the easy chair in the corner of the bedroom came into view.

She paled again and sucked in her breath in horror!

It was Mr. Evans. He was sitting back in the chair completely naked and holding his hard rigid penis tightly between both his hands. His eyes were glazed and he stroked the long hard instrument up and down in lewd rhythmic time to the now wet sucking noises she could hear coming from the bed across the room. Susan could not see what was making the sounds as she was afraid to open the door farther just yet. Mr. Evans was so close to her she was afraid to even breath for fear he might hear her. Instead, she stood immobile for a moment and watched in horrified fascination as his fingers skinned the thick foreskin of his uncircumcised penis rapidly up and down the full length of it, the huge bulbous head bursting evilly into view like a giant monster crawling from a secret lair with each hard down-stroke he made with his hand. She was close enough that she could see that it was wet on the top from the white, sticky lubricating fluid beginning to ooze forth from it. His breathing was thick and heavy and she could see thin trails of saliva running down his lips as he kept his eyes glued tightly to the bed just out of her view. His penis frightened her as she had never seen one before, and it looked like the most monstrous thing in the world. She could not imagine ever having something like that inside her. It just wouldn't be possible for any woman to take. It would kill her.

Susan held the door knob tighter. Mr. Evans was rising from the chair. Oh, God was he coming to the door! She had no time to run in the darkness, and he would find her. Her mother would never forgive her if she knew she were spying this way, but she just had to find out what was going on. She breathed a guarded sigh of relief as she watched him walk toward the other side of the room which was out of her vision from the slight crack in the door. He was going toward the bed where the noises were still increasing in tempo and Susan pressed the door open a crack more to follow him across the room. As she pushed against the door, the bed came into view by tiny degrees, and the fear of what she was going to see restricted her chest as though it were wrapped in thick steel bands. Her whole body was shaking violently, but suddenly it stilled!

A cold chill ran crazily up the full length of her spine.

There on the bed was her mother locked in a lewd embrace of intercourse with Mr. Johnson, Richard's father!

Her fiancee's father and her own mother!

She felt the blood draining from her head, and fought to retain her balance and keep from falling backwards. She was certain that she was going to faint from the sudden shock of the unbelievable sight going on before her eyes. There on her own dead father's bed was another man, making violent love to her mother while at the same time, another man stood above them stroking his vile-looking penis above their thrashing bodies. He was eagerly urging Richard's father to hurry up and finish.

"Come on, Sam, damn it man. I want a little too." She heard him say through her dazed mind.

They were taking turns on her mother!

Susan wanted to rush into the room, and tear them from her mother's body. She felt a scream building up in her throat, and wanted to hit and scratch at them until she drove them away forever. She tried to blot the horrible scene from her eyes, but she could not. She was frozen to the door, unable to move and merely watched in detached revulsion the ravishment of her mother's drunken and more than willing body on the swaying bed across the room. The foot of the bed was pointed right at the door so that she could even see Richard's father's thick, bard penis disappearing and reappearing with each cruel thrust and withdrawal that he made into her. Her legs were splayed out wide on either side of his plunging body and periodically, would kick high in the air, then fold around his driving buttocks, her ankles locking tightly behind his thighs, pulling him into her with all her strength.

Susan could see the muscles standing out on her inner thighs as she struggled like a crazed nymphomaniac to get him deeper inside her. His hands were cupping her naked white buttocks with a savage strength that cut red bloodless lines into the flaccid, giving flesh. He squeezed the large rounded moons tightly together, forcing the walls of her vagina closer around the thickness of his rigid penis. Susan strained her eyes and could see the thin, ragged edges of her mother's vagina clasping tightly around it, as though it were a hungry child nibbling voraciously at the last banana in the world. She could see the thinly parted pubic hairs grazing teasingly against the narrow sperm-filled ridge than ran the full length of the underside of his penis.

Her buttocks were grinding faster now, and the groans and mewls of pleasure were becoming more desperate, as the glazed, almost uncomprehending eyes of her daughter stayed glued hypnotically on the lewd, obscene coupling taking place on the bed. Her wild demonic upward thrusts were met with equal fury by Richard's father's pelvis, which was smacking hard down into her, driving her back down into the mattress with each mighty surge. The loud slap of belly against belly resounded through the room like tiny distant claps of thunder. Her legs curled and uncurled in wild final desperation around the driving hips that flattened her buttocks hard down into the bed with each long, powerful stroke.

Susan held her breath again, for the hundredth time since she had climbed the stairs, as she watched her mother being fucked more and more viciously with each passing second. Both she and Mr. Johnson were puffing wildly, and she could see small rivulets of sweat streaming down over his pumping and hollowing buttocks, as he worked frenziedly on top of her twisting body.

And then, suddenly it was over.

She could hear a low, unearthly gurgle coming from her mother's throat, as her buttocks slowed their wild scramble for completion and began small, spasmodic jerks up tight against the penis which was sunk deep in her belly. At the same time, Mr. Johnson groaned above her and ground hard down inside her vagina, his thick, fleshy rod beginning to throb it's white, milky sperm deep down into her quivering belly. The rich creamy fluid filled her completely, and cascaded out around the pink moist lips her cunt. To Susan's horror, she could see clearly a tiny white stream of it running down the wide split crevice of her buttocks and down onto the mattress below. The couple jerked against each other for a moment longer, and then lay still.

Evans, stroking his prick above them, could stand it no snore. He grasped Richard's father by the shoulder and pulled back hard, almost jerking him bodily from off the top of the spread-eagle woman.

"Move over, damn it," he shouted as he pushed the other man to the side of the bed.

Susan watched in wild-eyed fright, as Mr. Johnson's half-deflated penis withdrew with a wet, sucking noise from her mother's wide-open crotch. His sweating, spent body was replaced one moment later by Mr. Evans, who leaped between her still wide-spread legs, and without hesitation, plunged his rock-hard cock deep down into her moist, open vagina. He did not delay and immediately began fucking into her with long, hard strokes. His gleaming wet instrument could be seen clearly sliding in and out of her mother's ragged pink cunt like a well-oiled piston, his balls smacking rhythmically into the moist crevice of her wide-spread buttocks below.

She waited for her to scream in protest, or to fight back against the horrible obscene rape she was being subjected to – but none came.

Instead, her legs quivered straight out into the air again, and then wrapped python-like back again around his waist. Her hands slid slowly down his gleaming body and came to rest on his white, hollowing buttocks. The fingers spread, whitened from the pressure, then pulled him gluttonously into her, while below, her cunt flowered open in welcome acceptance. It swallowed the whole of his plunging cock with each greedy upward jerk. Small piteous pleas of passionate supplication began to roll from the woman's lips. They were lewd and horrible supplications, using words that Susan had seldom heard except in whispers from the more daring girls at school.

She stood for a moment longer – listening in abject horror to the small, mewling cries of her mother as she rolled and rocked beneath Mr. Evans like a common whore off the streets.

And suddenly, she could stand it no longer.

Susan turned and stumbled blindly toward the steps. Tears of abject hurt and humiliation rolled silently down her cheeks, smearing the light coat of rouge she had put on earlier in the evening to accentuate her passing to womanhood with her engagement to Richard. She was totally lost and didn't bother to close the front door behind her as she left the house. In the distance behind her, she could hear a loud, mocking shriek coming down the stairs and chasing her into the dark street. Now she was almost glad her father wasn't alive because it may have been going on long before his death. She could remember things that had seemed so insignificant during his long illness. Her mother stayed out late often, blaming it on the charitable work she had always been so involved in. Well, she certainly was practicing charity now, and giving as much as she could, Susan thought bitterly.

She walked to the end of the block and aimlessly turned toward the park. The night was half warm, and she didn't notice that she had left her coat hanging in the hallway back at the house. Her bared shoulders chilled slightly from a periodic breeze that brushed over them, but it didn't matter now. There were too many things to think about and her tortured mind just couldn't absorb all of them at one time. Some of them would just have to wait until she could get away and do some thinking under less trying circumstances. And, get away she must. She could never face Richard again, much less, marry him. Not after she had seen his father taking turns with another man ravishing her own mother. It was almost incestuous, and the horrible thought brought forth more bitter tears of anguish which streamed down her face unnoticed.

What could she do? Where could she go? She only had about eighty dollars from various graduation presents, and nothing else. The money her father left her was in a trust fund, and she wouldn't even begin drawing money from the interest income for three more years when she would be twenty-one. It was out of the question to try and borrow any. Anyone she knew that had enough money to lend her would question her about it, and she couldn't let anyone know she was going to leave. She was certain her mother would try to stop her even under the circumstances that had occurred tonight. She had a social position to protect in the community, and there were those who would frown on her having a runaway daughter on her hands. No, she must think of something else.

Billy!

The thought came to her like a flash. She knew he would take care of her if she could just make it to San Francisco where he was living. He didn't have much money, she knew that, as he had been sending home for it as often as he could get it. She had even sent him some of her own money quite often before Dad died but her mother had stopped giving it to her afterwards when she found out. From that time on, her mother had sent it to him, and had given Susan just enough to get by on herself. She was certain it was because her mother was jealous of the close relationship she had always had with her brother, and didn't want her to be able to do anything for him when he needed it so badly. In fact, the money he demanded had reached almost unbelievable proportions in the last few months, and she couldn't imagine what on earth he could be doing with that amount. He was supposed to be writing as he said he was doing, and shouldn't have the need for the quantities he requested.

His letters had become more and more desperate, and she was certain he was in some kind of serious trouble or he couldn't possibly spend that much. The worst part of it was that her mother had begun to cut down on the amount she sent him in order to force him to come home and in the last week he had sent his requests direct to Susan. She had written him about the will their father had left and tried to explain the best way she knew how the reason why she thought their father had not left anything to him. Still, she had detected a note of bitterness in his answering letter. He simply could not see why it should make a difference to Dad that he had left home right in the midst of his illness when it was almost certain he would die.

Billy had never felt that his father had really loved him because he had been so strict with him. But Susan knew it was just an attempt on his part to make a man out of Billy, in spite of their mother's coddling him since childhood. In fact, this had been the biggest bone of contention between her parents during their marriage, and she knew that this had driven her father to giving her more and more attention as time had gone on. It had been a natural thing and she hadn't regretted it, except that it had alienated her mother from her but after what she had seen tonight, she was glad for that. She didn't care if she never saw her again as long as she lived. She was nothing but a "damn whore" and probably always had been. Susan felt she owed her nothing, not even her loyalty or love anymore. Billy was the only thing she had left in the world, and she had to make him understand about the will and why it really didn't make any difference between them because she would share it all with him anyway.

"Ride, baby?" a coarse voice suddenly broke through the darkness.

Susan jerked around to suddenly find herself staring into the shadowed face of a negro, speaking to her from the open window of a car. The headlights were out, and it had coasted to a silent halt next to her. That was why, in her deep concentration, she had not heard it approaching.

"You look lonely, baby, all by yourself out here in the woods," the voice said in a sinister tone.

It was then that she noticed in sudden panic that she had walked beyond the park and was approaching the outskirts of town. The houses were few and far between, and she was walking now by a large vacant lot with the nearest house almost half a block away. Even then, the lights were all out around her and there was no one she could turn to. She mustered her courage, and continued walking in spite of the violent tremors that were beginning to run through her body. Perhaps if, she could just reach the next house, she would have a chance to awaken someone if she had to scream.

She heard the shift of gears as the car pulled up alongside of her again. It was then that she saw the others out of the corner of her eye. There seemed to be four of them with two in the front seat and two in the back seat. She quickened her pace slightly, trying not to go too fast, for fear of showing her fright. She knew the moment she did this they would lose any hesitation they had about molesting her. It seemed to be something innate in human nature that made those with the slightest advantage over another to put it to full use. She knew this only too well with the actions of her own mother to her since her father's death.

"I think she's a stuck-up little bitch, Duke," a face now hanging from the back window said. "She's not even answer'in ya."

"We just ain't offered her nuthin' yet, boy. What d'ya think she's worth."

"How kin we tell, you idiot, we cain't even see 'er. Give us some light." Susan's heart was pounding almost through her chest as she saw the beam from a flashlight pierce through the darkness, and play upon her body. She involuntarily moved faster as she sensed with horror the tiny bright spot playing across her breasts for a moment, and then down to her soft, well-rounded buttocks. She was really frightened now and knew they meant business.

"Look at that cute li'l ass, Duke. How'd ya like to get yore hands on that."

"Man, that'd be like squeezin' silk. I'll put in four bits for my share."

"Me too," chimed several times through the car, the voices mixed with lewd giggles of enjoyment at the torment of the defenseless girl on the lonely, dark street.

"Honey, that's two dollah's you can make yo'self in about fo' hours. One hour a piece. Whadya say?"

There were further chuckles and louder laughter from the car as it moved slowly along side her, keeping just abreast of her pace.

"We might jist take it otherwise, honey," came a threat from the front seat. "Now you wouldn't w'ont us to do nuthin' like that, would'dya?"

"It's only one fuck a piece if you come with us nice like, baby, we promise," the one called Duke chimed in. "But if you don't, we jist mite take all we want."

That was the end.

Susan could stand the horrible insults no longer, and suddenly from sheer panic, broke into a desperate run. She pulled her skirt up to her thighs and ran as fast as she could toward the darkened house that was still over a quarter of a block away. Her high heels impeded her speed and she tried to kick them off as she ran, but could not without losing her stride.

"Get'er, she's runn'in," she heard the negroes shouting from the car and then the opening and slamming of the car doors behind her.

"Don't lose that little piece o'tail," a voice rang through the night and mixed with the pounding of shoes on the pavement behind her.

"God damn, she's a fast lil' bitch, look at 'er go."

"Y-y-yeah, and man look at those y-y-yams," she heard a puffing voice behind her say. It was close, so close she could almost feel a breath down her neck. She strained, trying to run faster, trying to escape the coarse, horrible blacks chasing after her. There was not a single doubt in her mind of what was going to happen to her if she were caught, and the thought made her move faster. Her breath was coming in small gasps now and her legs felt as though her muscles would snap from the awful pressure of the distance she had run. She kept her eyes straight ahead and looked pleadingly to the darkened house, now only a stone's throw away.

She was almost there!

A hand reached out from behind her and grasped once at her hair flowing in the night breeze behind her.

He missed!

She felt the softness of the lawn of the house under her feet and screamed with all her strength as she felt her heel dig into the soft ground and her legs twist from beneath her. Her two black pursuers dove, and landed in a heap on top of her prostrate body, crushing the wind from her lungs.

She screamed again.

"Bring the Goddamn car over, we got her," she heard a shout above her.

A porch light snapped on from the house.

O thank God, thank God, flickered through her mind.

"Help me! Please help me!" she screamed at the top of her voice until a harsh rough callused hand clamped down over her lips.

The car screeched to a halt a few feet away at the curb and the door on the front porch opened.

"Get 'er in, damn it, get 'er in," someone was shouting.

"Dear God, please, oh please," she screamed at the middle-aged man, whose face was peering stone-like through the opened door. He seemed to stare directly into her wide, terror stricken eyes for a long, long moment. His face was impassive and unchanged. And then, even as she struggled with the last of her waning strength, she watched in uncomprehending disbelief as the man, still expressionless, slowly closed the door and switched the light off. A crazy vague thought of the forty brave souls who allowed a girl to die on the streets in New York flickered through her mind as she gave one last stifled scream. Both of the negroes had her from behind now, and were forcing her toward the car. One of them had his hand over her mouth, and though she was still struggling with all her remaining strength, they were moving her to the car with little difficulty.

The back door was open wide, and one of them was in the back seat. He grabbed Susan by the neck as they thrust her head first through the open door and pulled her hard into the interior so that she fell face down across his lap. The one called Duke leaped in on top of her, pulling the door closed behind him. The other one jumped in the front seat by the driver, and the car roared off with a squeal of tires. Susan's pale blue eyes were wide with terror, and her mouth twisted with a soundless scream that was choked silent by fear somewhere deep in her throat.

"Have ya got her, have ya got her," a hot, excited voice came from the driver's seat.

"Hell, yes, we got 'er. Get this son-a-bitch rolling good 'fore that ol' bastard gets brave and calls the cops."

"Awright, awright," the driver answered, shifting it into second and roaring off on the road headed out of town. "Don't let her yell till we get out' here."

Susan felt a thick muscular arm circle around her, and another harsh callused hand press into her face and over her mouth until her lips ached back against her tightly clenched teeth. She could feel the negro's excited breathing as he pressed her closer to him to keep her from screaming. A pungent animal smell of sweat came from his clothes, and seemed to permeate the whole of her own gasping breath. The odor was horrible.

Tears of helpless frustration filled her eyes as suddenly the lewd obscene picture of Richard's father's penis spearing mercilessly into her mother's open and receptive vagina crossed her mind, and she sobbed helplessly as the grim realization came that she too might soon be filled with the cruel hard flesh of one of these horrible rapists who had kidnapped her from the street.

Oh God, she prayed silently through the pain of her helpless position, don't let it happen like this, don't let it happen like this.

"Okay, you bastards, keep her down out'a sight. We gotta go through this intersection up here."

Duke pressed tighter down into her from his position and stretched over the full length of her back. She was still groaning softly but her body was limp as though the life had been crushed from it. She no longer struggled, but moved her face slightly away from the loins of the boy where it had been pressed. His hand clasped against her face, following her every movement to insure that she would not scream.

Susan could feel Duke's loins pressed tightly into the curve of her buttocks from behind where he lay over her back. His face was pressed into her hair, and she winced slightly, in spite of the pain throughout her body, from the stale odor of alcohol that he breathed alongside her face. They obviously had been drinking a lot, and though she hadn't really seen any of them outright, she was certain they weren't from around here. They spoke in thick negro accents that sounded like the Woodlawn District of Chicago, and must have driven down just for something like this.

Oh God, why did she have to be the one. Why did she have to catch her mother in that horrible position with those two men. She knew somehow the entire train of her life would change after tonight. Nothing – nothing – would ever be the same.

Behind her, the negro Duke's breath was coming heavier. He had lain still at first, recovering his wind from the struggle he had just engaged in, but now his strength was returning, and Susan could feel the whole of his body squirming down onto her with an impatience that frightened her. She tried to move again, but could not. The pressure of the boy's arm around her neck and face, and the weight of Duke on her back held her pinned tightly to the seat. Her knees were hanging off the edge and she could feel him sliding down her back until his hardening loins were pressed tightly against the soft flesh of her buttocks. She moaned her protest into the hand over her mouth as she felt his knee inserting between her legs and prying them relentlessly and cruelly apart.

She fought, but there was no stopping him.

He had the leverage, and soon her inner thick muscles tired as she felt them being pushed slightly open. His hardened penis, trapped painfully under the tightness of his jeans pressed hard and intimately into the upraised junction of the soft underside of her thighs.

The car raced along the highway, leaving the sparse lights of the suburbs behind it. There was the click of the glove compartment opening in the front seat, and a sound of glass scraping against metal.

"H-h-how about a d-d-drink fella's," a stuttering thick-sounding voice asked from the front seat.

"God damn, Stitch, you get the best ideas sometimes," Duke answered as he pulled his loins back slightly from Susan's upraised buttocks. He kneeled up on the floor and reached over the back of the front seat to take the bottle. A husky gurgling sound of deep-throated swallows filled the car above the soft roar of the engine.

"Whooeee! Damn that stuff burns," he roared after a moment. "Here take it, Shorty."

The negro laughed drunkenly and lifting her head, reached over and grabbed the bottle, coughing loudly after his last swallow. She could feel droplets of the foul-smelling liquid falling to the back of her neck as it dribbled from the corners of his mouth. The bottle was then passed up to the driver, who they referred to as Coke. It made several rounds among them as she trembled silently, too afraid to speak.

"Hey, what about the honky?" Duke suddenly laughed as he passed the bottle to Shorty. "Give'er a lil shot to warm'er up."

The negro laughed drunkenly and lifted her head from his lap by the hair and thrust the mouth of the bottle to her lips. She clenched them tightly shut in a vain attempt to ward off the terrible tasting substance, but he pressed harder, forcing her mouth open. The hot burning liquid sizzled down inside her and she coughed to keep from choking, but with each cough there was a further pressure on the bottle forcing more down the narrow confines of her throat.

"Hot damn, you better open another bottle," Shortly chortled as she swallowed defensively so that she could breath. "She's a guzzler."

At last, after a seeming eternity, he passed the bottle on to Coke in the driver's seat, but with each further round she was forced to drink her share. At first, it almost made her sick but with each gradual bit forced down her, it began to deaden her feelings. She found herself almost wishing it would be her turn again each time the bottle left her mouth. Soon it began slowly, but perceptibly, to deaden her sense of dread. A dread of what was almost certain to come.

Between his turns at the bottle, Duke let his hands play over the smooth rounded contours of her buttocks behind her, and in spite of the deadening effect of the alcohol, she still tried hopelessly to squirm away.

"Hold 'er Shorty, she's slipp'in, you bastard!"

And Shorty's hand came down hard on the back of her head, pressing it harder into his loins until the bottle carne around their way again. She could feel the car turning off the main road onto a dirt one. It was rough and rocky, and with each bump they hit she could feel the hardness of Duke behind her buttressing deeper into the open unprotected crevice of her behind. She knew he could feel her quivering beneath him, and had faint visions of what his black leering face must look like as he held her warm throbbing body in front of him to do as he willed. The obscene helplessness of her position, coupled with the warm dark liquid they had forced down her, caused a strange crazy fluttering deep inside her stomach. It intensified with each time Duke moved his loins behind her and the contact became more sharp. Her face ached slightly and her throat was bone dry.

"How much longer?" Duke breathed heavily, his hands cupping the round firmness of her buttocks beneath the thin veneer of her now torn and soiled party gown.

"Bout two miles," Coke answered tensely from the driver's seat. "But keep 'er down anyway, there's farmer's houses all along this road, and they sleep light."

"Don't worry none," Duke snorted gleefully, "She cain't make no noise. I got 'er tight."

"P-P-Pull 'er d-d-dress up," Stitch slobbered drunkenly with his head hanging over the seat. A weird unnatural glint shone in his eyes as they roamed over the figure of the helpless kneeling girl in the back seat.

"I gotta fuck 'er now," Duke hissed with a coarse impatient tone to his voice.

"Not now, wait'll we git 'er to the cabin," Shorty objected.

"Man, I jist cain't hold back, I gotta fuck 'er right now or my lil ole balls gonna explode." Duke intoned hoarsely as he felt the softness of her behind grinding back into him in her fruitless efforts of escape.

"Hang on, Shorty," he muttered, "I'm gonna slip her dress up."

"G-G-Go on, S-S-Shorty," Stitch stuttered escitedly. "F-F-Fuck 'er n-n-now!"

Susan, through the pale of forced drunkenness, squirmed hard against the negro's binding hands, but the slow seductive movement of her buttocks crushing back into the hardness of his loins only succeeded in sharpening his desire for her. She sobbed into the hand covering her mouth, and broke away from it with a jerk of her head.

"Oh God, please don't! Don't do it to me!"

Her piteous supplications were cut short again by Shorty's rough hand clamping down hard over her mouth. Further muffled cries were choked back deep down in her throat until only slight broken grunts of anguish could be heard coming from her flaring nostrils.

Duke reached down to her knees and jerked at the dress bunched beneath her on the floor. There was a low tearing noise as it suddenly ripped loose, fanning up the full length of her firm full thighs and up over the rounded white panty-covered fullness of her buttocks. Duke gasped and wriggled it over her hips to the narrow indentation of her waist. All the while Shorty held tight around her neck, his eyes bulging as each voluptuously smooth portion of her body came further into view.

"Pull 'er dress on up over her head," Duke coughed excitedly at him, as his trembling hands caressed the lust-inciting nakedness of her inner thighs. His nostrils flared in undisguised desire as his fingers coursed over the smooth silky softness of flesh where they joined her torso. He pinched her ass, momentarily delighting in the further groans it brought from her lips as she screwed back against him in pain. There was only a smooth narrow band of nylon lying between them now, bunched tightly in the crevice of her buttocks, and even in the dim interior light of the car, he could see silken tufts of her soft blonde pubic hair protruding from beneath the tight elastic of the leg-bands. The rounded globules of her behind stood brash and exposed to the lust-crazed eyes of all but Coke, who still hung tensed over the wheel as he maneuvered the car skillfully down the rough dirt road towards the forest in the distance.

Susan was half wild with fear now. Even the deadening effect of the alcohol could not protect her mind from the horrible truth of what was happening to her.

She was going to be raped!

Raped by a vicious gang of negroes who thought and acted like animals and had little compassion or feeling towards her or any other human being. Her buttocks quivered convulsively from the terrifying thought of what her fate was surely to be in a few short minutes. There was nothing in the world that could save her now. Her fate had been sealed the moment she saw the first stream of light from under the door of her mother's bedroom tonight, and there was no way to turn the time back now.

Oh God, if only it hadn't happened the way it did. If only her father hadn't died, if only Billy hadn't gone away. A thousand "ifs" rumbled disconnectedly through her tortured mind when suddenly she was jerked back to brutal reality by the touch of Duke's hands running up the sides of her almost naked body. He rounded them over the luscious flare of her hips for a moment, and then slid them slowly and harshly down to the slimness of her waist above her panties. Her skin was naked there, and she trembled as his breathing almost stopped behind her. She felt as though his eyes were boring right through her body, as the heat of his hands traced a path just behind their leering gaze.

"Man, look at that, jist look at it." Duke's face was contorted crazily as he spoke the words almost in a trance.

Thin lines of spittle drooled from the idiot face of Stitch, as he hung over the front seat, his eyes gleaming in vicious desire. Coke, behind the wheel, glanced over the seat and muttered something under his breath, then tromped down harder on the gas, shooting the car forward at a greater speed.

Susan groaned as she felt a hardness from Shorty's crotch rising under her cheek. He had followed Duke's instructions and pulled the dress over her waist and up to her neck where it bunched in a wrinkled ring of useless cloth. Now, in his excitement, he was roving his hands over her back that was bare from the shoulders down. The smooth velvet softness of her skin was broken only by the thin white brassiere straps that laced across her back, and the flimsy panties that stretched tightly over her buttocks. She could feel a small wet circle of seminal fluid seeping through the crotch of his pants from the hardness of his penis. It felt warm and sticky against her cheek, and as she tried to move her head away, he pulled his hand from her back and pressed her face tighter into his crotch until she almost lost her breath. He locked her head in position with one hand, while the other continued to rummage over her back, his fingers working clumsily at the clasp of her brassiere. Suddenly, without prior warning, it snapped apart, and her full young breasts, large and resilient, fell free.

She gasped as he pulled the now useless piece of underwear from around her body and the two mounds of soft resilient flesh came into hard direct contact with the leather of the car seat. Her nipples sprang into a defensive hardness, their tiny bud-like tips throbbing from the sudden exposure to the coolness of the material. Shorty wasted no time. As he gaped at Duke's hands coursing hungrily over the rounded soft spheres of her buttocks, his own hand slipped around the side of her body, following the deep red welt where the bra strap had been. He cupped the full round ripeness of her right breast and squeezed it momentarily, bringing a groan from Susan's lips. Still not satisfied, he proceeded to pinch the small rubbery nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He rolled it tightly between them with a lewd grin on his face as he felt her face squirming with greater strength now trying to dislodge itself from his crotch. He continued to knead and pinch at her breasts with an ecstatic intensity until he was harshly interrupted by a loud threatening rebuke from Duke.

"You son-uf-a-bitch, stop it. I'm gonna fuck 'er," he almost shouted, fire burning in his eyes.

"I'm just feel'in 'er. I got a right to that too," Shorty replied defensively.

"Not when I'm gett'in ready to fuck 'er, you ain't."

"Knock it off, you two. There's plenty for everybody when we get to the shack." Coke pleaded from the driver's seat.

"I ain't wait'in," Duke announced, and glared at Shorty across the length of Susan's helpless prostrate body. "Now you jist hold 'er."

"Aw right, but I get 'er first when we get there," he relented grudgingly, and pulled his hand from beneath her body.

"C-C-Come on, D-D-Duke, f-f-fuck 'er quick," Stitch drooled.

"Shut up, God damn it, alla ya. I'm wasten time."

Duke's eyes gleamed with inflamed desire as his shaking hands smoothed up the sides of her quivering body, and cupped the breasts underneath. He pulled and squeezed at them harshly for a moment and then with sudden impatience drew his hands down again to the elastic hand at the top of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the nylon and with a slow methodical certainty, began to peel them down over the curves of her hips.

Susan jerked as she felt the last of her protective clothing being removed from her almost nude body. She had lain almost dormant from paralyzing fear all this time as they clawed and kneaded at her helpless body, but she knew this was the point of no return, and if she didn't resist with all her strength now there would be no hope. Even death, she thought bitterly, would be better than losing her virginity to this horrible group of wild animals who had her at their mercy. With this thought racing through her mind, she gave one last final effort at escape and rolled from the seat to the floor of the speeding car. Her sudden movement had caught both Shorty and Duke by surprise, but they both reacted violently and quickly.

"Pull 'er back up, pull'er back up!" Duke shouted as they struggled with her flailing arms and legs beneath them.

The battle lasted only a minute as the greater strength of the two negroes gradually won, and she was pulled brutally back to the kneeling position on the seat, with her face again pressed tightly into Shorty's loins. Her breasts ached as they were squashed hard and heavy into the leather.

"Now hold 'er, damn it," Duke commanded. "I'm really gonna give it to the lil' bitch for that one."

Susan, trembling in abject terror, heard the harsh metallic sound of a zipper being opened in haste behind her, and then the warm smooth pressure of his hardened cock pressing against the tender backsides of her thighs. She could feel its stickiness where the wet hot seminal fluid seeped from its large inflated head. With his hands on her hips, he pressured them up higher off the seat then pressed his knees tight between hers, and in one swift downward movement, peeled the white flimsy panties from the half moons of her buttocks. When the silky material caught at the juncture of her belly and thighs, he gave an impatient jerk, ripping them into useless threads.

He laughed and held the tattered remnants up in the air, and then pushed them tight into the moronic Stitch's face hanging in enraptured concentration over the back of the front seat.

"Man, smell a little o'that sweet stuff," Duke chortled at the crazed idiotic gaze that flickered through the retarded negro's eyes.

"L-Lem'me feel 'er c-c-cunt," Stitch suddenly stuttered in a deranged moronic squeak, and without warning thrust his hand down over the back of the seat with a swiftness that caught Duke off guard. The force of his unexpected movement pushed Duke back a little, giving his hand complete access to the warm wet juncture of Susan's upraised buttocks. She jerked forward with a desperate groan, pressing her face tighter into Shorty's crotch, but there was no escape. The half-wit's full extended hand clamped down tight against her, covering the whole of the junction of her thighs and buttocks. She wriggled her behind in desperation, attempting with all her strength to evade the wildly digging fingers that were thrusting and probing at her unprotected vagina.

Suddenly he found the wet smooth opening and rammed his middle finger forward with a hard cruel thrust that burst into her with the hot fiery pain of a thousand Roman candles.

"Aaaaaggggghhhhh," she screamed wildly, as she felt it skewering like a red hot poker into the smooth virginal flesh of her cunt, breaking through the tight ring of her virginity and on into the warm wet cavern beyond. Duke, shouting obscenities at the top of his lungs, tried with all his strength to wrestle the cruel probing hand away, but the strength of the lust-filled half-wit was that of ten men. He ground his thick fat finger around and around without mercy deep inside her painfully expanding channel, while the poor helpless girl groaned and twisted in anguish before the depraved attack on her unprotected genitals. She felt as though her vaginal passage was ablaze and burning as she sensed through the dim consciousness of her tortured brain, the slight giving and tearing of her flesh. The flaccid symbol of virginity that she had protected for so long was being ripped savagely away. Her body went limp from the sudden shock and pain, and she would have fallen from the seat had it not been for the restricting hands of Shorty on her shoulders, and the pressure of the wildly flailing Duke behind her, who had both hands locked tightly around Stitch's wrist forcing his finger slowly but surely from her pained and stretched vaginal passage.

Finally it was over.

His thick stubby finger slipped with a wet sucking noise from between the young fleshy folds of her cunt, and he grunted in pain as Duke shoved him will all his strength back into the windshield of the car.

"Stop it, you idiots! Stop it!" Coke was shouting at the top of his voice. "We're gonna wreck the Goddamn car!"

"I'm gonna kill that idiot bastard when we get to the cabin! I swear it. By God, I swear it!" Duke screamed, his face livid with rage.

"I-I-I gotta r-r-right to some t-t-too," the half dazed Stitch defended, as he rubbed his battered head.

"You ain't gettin' nuthin, ya heah, nuthin' ya son-uf-a-bitch. If ya ever lay anuther hand on 'er, I'll kill ya."

Stitch cringed back in the seat before Duke's fiery verbal attack. It was obvious he was the accepted leader of the group at that moment. The others seemed deathly afraid of his vicious temper. He glared around the car and there was a still silence, broken only by the piteous sobs of the helpless Susan, still kneeling before him in helpless subjugation.

Duke turned his eyes back down to the full moons of Susan's gleaming white buttocks, protruding full and round in the dim light. His lips curled tightly as his total concentration returned to the voluptuous and waiting feast spread in servile anguish before him.

"Now she's gonna git it like a high class lil' bitch should git it from a real man," he hissed between clenched teeth, while his cruelly gleaming eyes bored into the tantalizing crevice that separated the full cheeks of her soft young behind.

"Ohhhh no, please, please don't anymore," she pleaded through her tears of shame and humiliation. She could feel his hands begin kneading nervously and stretching the open and unprotected twin mounds of her buttocks. Her body jerked up as she felt his thumbs on either side of them, spreading them wider and wider apart.

"Oh God, no!"

She sobbed out her weak and futile protest, as the cool air from an open window rushed between them, and brought her back to semi-consciousness. A groan escaped from her lips, as again the full realization of her position flickered through her mind.

"Ohhh!"

She jerked forward when Duke's middle finger thrust between her thighs into the soft protective folds of the young flesh surrounding her vagina. His fingers searched patiently for a moment, and then found their velvety quarry. She cringed before his initial touch, the soft resilient cheeks of her buttocks hardened and clenched tight together, trapping his probing hand between them.

"Hold 'er, Shorty, she's fightin' it," he gasped, twisting his hand to pry her buttocks open again. "Man she's tight."

"Maybe she ain't never been fucked before," Short cut in, his voice dropping to an almost reverent whisper. "D'ya think she's a virgin?"

"We ain't never gonna know now, with that half-wit's finger plowin' into 'er like he did." Duke grunted as he pushed his arm forward to break the death lock that her buttocks had on his hand. "But she ain't had much, that's for sure."

He gave one last hard push with his forearm, and Susan felt the last of the desperate strength she had mustered in her terror – give way. Her body shuddered and she moaned as his finger wormed its way into the now wet and open passageway. She clenched her teeth tightly in a vain attempt to drown out the hurt that slipped through the remains of her shattered virginity and moved about in tiny growing circles deeper and deeper inside her. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came. Instead, there was a helpless muffled groan of exhausted acceptance. Every muscle in her twisted kneeling body had reached the ultimate breaking point, and she could no longer find the strength to even protest against the vile monstrous fondling of her secret parts that she had worked so hard to save for Richard and their wedding night. All that was gone with the frenzied attack she had been subjected to a few moments before by the moronic sadist in the front seat. And now – now there was nothing left but the final coup de grace to be administered viciously – and without ceremony by the arrogant unknown negro behind her whose face she had never even seen.

She gasped and held her breath as she felt his fingers that had enlarged and stretched the now lubricated walls of her vagina slip wetly out with a moist sucking sound. He squirmed behind her, his hand wrapped tightly around his lust-hardened cock, guiding it slowly and deliberately between his fingers into the moist pink flanges of her vagina. She cringed forward again, her face contorted in fearsome dread as she felt the large bulbous head moving up and down behind her in the wide-spread slit of her vagina and part the sparse soft blonde pubic hair in preparation for the entry. She tried to close her legs, but his knees insinuated between them held them cruelly open.

"Hold 'er tight, boy, I'm gonna slip it in nice and easy," he directed at the wide-eyed Shorty, whose arms bulged from the pressure he was placing on her shoulders. Stitch, who had recovered his courage, hung his face over the back of the seat, gasping at the scene with tiny streams of spittle dripping from the corners of his slackened mouth.

Susan whimpered aloud as she felt the first warm hard contact against the cringing lips of her cunt and the slow agonizing pressure beginning. It was soft at first and then when he met his first resistance, he pressurized forward harder.

She groaned incoherently.

"Oooooooooooooh, nooo!"

He pressed forward again, flexing his buttocks with all his strength until suddenly… it gave. The tight elastic ring popped open with a quick unexpected snap, and the huge blood-filed head slipped wetly inside with a rush that left Susan gasping for breath.

"Aaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhh!"

She flailed her head wildly into Shorty's crotch as he worked with all his strength to hold her down. The shock of the sudden thrust rejuvenated her shattered muscles for a moment, and she squirmed and twisted like a mad woman trying to escape the cruel and painful impalement of her cunt.

"God, what a pussy," Duke gasped from behind as he felt it's warm wet walls slipping over his rigidity like hot melted butter. His head fell loosely back as his loins buffeted forward and his thick rock-hard cock speared into the helplessly struggling girl without mercy. It raced into her like a fast whirling drill boring through the depths of the earth, battering and smashing all before it in great waves of warm moist flesh until suddenly his pelvis smacked tight into her and flattened her upraised buttocks with a hard, sharp slap that reverberated through the speeding car like a flat-handed blow across the face.

Susan's muffled moans of pain and humiliation went unheeded and unheard as he reached forward with both hands and grasped her by the shoulders, pulling her whole body back tight against him. His thick hard cock was sunk to its fullest depth in her quivering white belly as she felt the hardness of the head pressed tight against the end of her cervix. There was no reason to struggle or fight anymore, even if she had the strength. He had conquered her; she knelt in servile acceptance like a slave of old, to be used as her master desired.

Her body went limp, as she felt his hands slide down to the rounded curves of her hips, and began a slow teasing rotation of his rigid cock deep inside of her womb. The pain lessened as she felt her wet soft passage expanding further and further with each greater rotation he made inside her. Her tears of shame and humiliation continued to flow. There was no stopping him, and there was nothing she could do but accept the vile obscene rape of her body without resistance.

Her muffled sobs and groans mingled piteously with his gasps of passion, while his hands ran down under the fullness of her quivering breasts, dancing against the seat below with each hard, cruel thrust he made into her.

"J-J-Jesus C-C-Christ!" Stitch muttered as his bulging eyes watched the long black length of Duke's glistening cock, moist from her secretions, pistoning into her white behind. His eyes bulged wider, as he gaped at the ragged pink flanges of the protective soft folds of flesh around her cunt, drawing back with each out-stroke, and then being swallowed in again as Duke thrust forward into her with the powerful in and out rhythm he had begun. Stitch wanted with all his being to reach forward again and fondle her there, but his dim mind remembered the anger he had elicited the last time he let himself lose control. Unable to satisfy his rising passion, he dropped his hand to his crotch and pressed against his own rising hardness instead. He fingered the seeping wet patch of seminal fluid with a crazed gleam in his close-set eyes, hoping with all his might that Duke would change his mind and let him have his share when they reached the shack.

Duke, pumping into her from behind like she was a bitch in heat, squeezed all around her soft joggling buttocks. His fingers dug cruelly at her cringing tiny puckered anus, and then jerked forward again, clasping her hips and pulling her back limply over his cock while he continued to skewer and ram into her with growing abandon. His body was now a ball of sheer uncontrolled lust that had unleashed itself completely against the squirming beautiful, tender flesh in front of him. He could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker in her belly, as he ground savagely into her with a wave of sadistic delight flickering across his contorted face. He had never had anything white like this before, nothing this young and tender and helpless, and it was driving him insane. His thick inflated cock ached and burned as it never had before. He was almost there, almost there, and he continued to ram eagerly into her with long hard strokes. He had to end it before he lost his mind.

Susan's whimpers stretched into a long, low continuous whine that filled the car like a distant siren. Through the dim haze of her tortured mind, she could feel him growing and growing deep – deep inside her until it felt as though his rampaging instrument would split her in two. He was going to cum in her. Her tears cascaded in torrents onto the rough Levi's of Shorty's crotch. The lewd thought was passing her mind of this horrible unknown negro filling her helpless belly and womb with his hot sticky lust. Oh God, she might get pregnant, ran crazily through her mind, and she tried to clench her buttocks as a senseless gesture of defense.

That did it!

As her warm wet muscles clasped tight around his hard-driving cock, Duke threw back his head with a wild scream, and his lewd hot sperm shot like a fire hose into Susan's wide-swept cuntal passage. She groaned in helpless submission before him as he emptied himself with spurt after spurt of his driving lust juices deep up inside her, filling her womb and belly to the bursting point.

"Oh God, no, no, no!" she screamed as she felt it ricocheting around in a warm wet pool in her vagina – a hot fiery reminder of her total subjugation to the cruel inhuman tormentor fucking into her from behind.

There was nothing else. The end had come so suddenly and so completely that Duke pitched forward in total exhaustion along the length of her flattened body and lay, breathing fast, unable to move.

Susan lay sobbing out her humiliation and fear beneath him, the sudden horrible thought coming to her that it wasn't all over. There were the others. Oh God, there were the others!

"Get off 'er, Duke, please. Lemme at 'er now."

"Knock it off, damn it, there's the shack just ahead," Coke cried excitedly from the driver's seat. "We can all get it now."

"Yeh," Duke added, rising from over the prostrate Susan and glowering at the cringing Stitch in the front seat. "Son-uf-a-bitch, he ain't gonna even touch 'er for what he done."

As he lifted, Susan could feel his deflated penis slipping wetly from her forever expanded passage. As the cool night rushed with a soothing swirl into her void, she listened with bated breath to the argument going on between the two negroes, as the speeding car came to a sliding halt in the night. Stitch was objecting with a low pleading whine to his voice, that sounded like a small child begging for candy from an older brother or sister.

"Ya heard me, ya bastard, ya touch 'er, and I'll kill ya. Next time ya'll know better," Duke said with finality in his voice. "Besides, ain't nobody gettin' none until we get our business outta the way. Remember, that's how come we're here."

There were groans from the other two at this statement, but neither of them pursued the matter as the harsh tone of Duke's pronouncement indicated he was in no mood for an argument.

"Come on now, let's get 'er outta the car. We got a lot to do 'fore the others get here."

She heard the door opening on the right side of her. The side she had been forced through a seeming eternity before, and now there were hands pulling her roughly through it and out of the car. She tried to stand on her own two feet when she felt the ground beneath them, but they would not hold and she was forced to lean against Duke's shoulder for support. The hem of her dress fell loosely from her neck and on down to her waist, as she struggled weakly to pull it the rest of the way down to cover her naked hips.

She was barefooted now, for her shoes had fallen loose in the car. The cool touch of the dirt beneath her feet brought some semblance of consciousness back to her dazed mind. Her hand tightened around Duke's arm, and in spite of the brutal assault he had just subjected her to, she found herself clinging to him blindly, half for support, and half from the fear of the others touching her. She followed him meekly across the short distance from the car to the ramshackled cabin in the small clearing. In spite of her still smoldering dread of his touch, he seemed to be the only barrier that stood between her and total rape by all the others. How long would he hold them off? She tightened her grip, and followed him passively, half stumbling, half walking, to the rickety stairs leading up the porch. She trembled at the thought of the unknown, and the frightening fate that she was certain awaited her inside.

CHAPTER TWO

The interior of the shack was even more shabby than the outside. Susan tried to hold back for a moment at the doorway, as Duke disappeared inside and lit an old-fashioned kerosene lamp, then returned to pull her in. The interior of the weather beaten shack was even more shabby than the outside and a bit cold.

"Build a fire, Stitch," Duke commanded to the sulking form that was last to enter. "And don't burn the God damn place up."

"I-I-I kin build a-a-as good a f-f-fire as y-y-you can," he stuttered defensively, and then stepped outside again to collect the wood.

"Ya oughta lay off him, Duke," Coke said when Stitch was out of earshot. "He's one o' us, and oughta be treated right."

"He'll be treated right, awright. If he ever pulls a stunt like he did back there in the car, I'll cut his balls off, and he won't have to worry none about it."

"Aw, he wuz just excited, ya know how he gits," Shorty chimed into the argument. "Ya know he ain't got a brain in his head."

"I know he ain't, an' that's why I'm pushin' 'im. He's gotta learn to control hisself, jist like the rest of us," Duke answered tersely. "When he does that, then he can have it. Besides, I got thinking to do. I tole the man I'd be all ready when he sends his contact man up with the plans tomorrow."

"Where was 'e comin' in from?" Shorty asked.

"Detroit, where else? You think them honkies got a goin' over last summer, man, you ain't seen nothin yet. Wait'll ya hear what he got in mind for 'em this time."

"He's gonna lay it to 'em, huh?" Shorty smiled a broad toothy smile, and smacked his hand against his knee. "He shore know how to do it."

"Yeh, but you remember whose boss here. I kin handle Chicago."

"Man, you gotta do what he say or we don't git no more money."

"Aw, he ain't so big. We kin make our own contacts if we gotta. There's plenty o' scratch around jist waitin' to be picked up to back good ole civil rights causes."

He snickered for a moment at his joke, and the others followed suit as Susan listened in confused wonder. The apathy that had lain over her mind since first being abducted into the car by this gang of negroes, was gradually lifting and she found herself becoming more and more perceptive of what was going on around her. She had assumed at first that they were just a wild bunch of criminals, perhaps escapees of the state reformatory, but now it appeared that they were something more sinister. They seemed to be here for a purpose, and it was surely connected with the riots that had started last summer – the ones that everyone was afraid were going to occur again, with school ending in a few weeks.

"What we gonna do with this honky chick, Duke?" Shorty asked. "She could blow the whole thing if she gits loose."

"She ain't gonna git loose, we'll make sure of that, and besides, the big glow ain't for two more days now, an' we'll worry 'bout her when that time comes."

"You ain't gonna kill 'er are ya?" Coke intervened with a worried expression on his face.

Duke looked at him for a short second, and then burst into laughter at his concern.

"Man," he roared, "here you gonna kill a hundred honkies on Friday, and you worryin' about one little ole white gal here. That's crazy, man, crazy."

"Yeh, but it's different," Coke argued back, a hurt expression on his face. "We cain't scream civil rights if they catch us."

"They ain't gonna catch us for nuthin, you hear. We gonna take care 'o her my way. And… meanwhile," he added, "she can watch after us, cain't chya, honey?"

Duke smiled at her and Susan dropped her head back to the floor. She leaned more heavily against the wall where he had left her, and drew her arms around her breasts. They hung loose and partly exposed from a large tear in the upper part of her dress caused by their struggles in the car. Her bra was gone along with her panties, and she felt naked and vulnerable to their stares as they waited for her answer to Shorty's question.

She stood silent and did not speak.

"I asked ya a question, baby," he suddenly spat at her and walked to her side.

Still Susan did not move or make a sound, even though her heart was lodged tightly in her throat in fear.

The loud sound of a hard slap suddenly echoed through the room, as the negro who had just so brutally raped her, swung his arm in a wide arc and brought the palm of his hand down hard across her face.

"Now, you jist answer when I ask ya sumpin', baby, or next time it's gonna be worse."

"W-What do you want from me?" she managed to finally stammer out through the thin stream of tears it brought to her eyes.

"I just asked if you was gonna take care 'o us, and I want the answer loud and clear for the boys."

"Y'Yes," she finally said quietly. She could see the cold cruel glint in his black eyes, and knew that any sigh of resistance right now would only bring further pain and indignities from him. He was the leader of this gang, and could not under any circumstances run the risk of being stood up against in front of them. They worshiped strength and she sensed that if he lost his prestige in this matter with them, that he would lose all. It was again, the old tale of the male lions fighting for leadership of the "pride", and the women that went with it. There was only one law that applied, and that was the law of the jungle, pure and simple.

"That's a good lil' honky chick. We gonna make a good honky outta ya yet, jist to show these boys that the only good honky, ain't a dead one. Ain't that, right."

Duke smiled arrogantly down at her and tweeked her cheek with his thumb and forefinger. Susan nodded her head dejectedly in agreement.

"Awright, Coke, show 'er the kitchen, man. She's gonna have to earn 'er keep here for a few days, in more ways than one. And, make 'er clean it good."

He grabbed her arm and shoved her towards the tall thin negro who had been driving the car, and she let herself be led to the kitchen without a struggle. There was no longer any sense in the hopeless resistance she had put up at first. Her only chance for even staying alive now was to keep close to Duke. She was certain his hard outward approach to her was an act to show the others that he could be cold and cruel, for he seemed to have developed a sense of protectiveness toward her that might keep the others away – for a little while anyway.

The kitchen was a mess and looked like it had not been used for a long time. The sink was filled to the brim with dirty molding dishes and the dusty shelves were almost bare except for an assortment of rusting cans of beans and soup. Coke inspected the door that led out to the back, making certain the padlock attached to it was still secure so there could be no chance for her to escape.

"Now you do what Duke done said to do and don't try nuthin' that might be crazy. He might git mad and you ain't never seen nobody as wild as him when he's mad."

Susan nodded in assent and limply began her task of cleaning up the mess. The odor from the dishes almost made her sick, but under Coke's watchful gaze, she soon had them soaking in hot water that she had heated on an old wood-burning stove. On a command from Duke in the living room, Coke stepped outside and returned a few minutes later carrying a large box of groceries.

"Duke says you're to git us some supper. And, make it quick," he added with an authority of his own.

"W-What can I fix," she asked with a slight tremble in her voice. It was the first time she had spoken to any of them except when she had been forced to. She could hardly bring herself to do it, but knew she must, or risk facing the wrath of Duke again. She dared not alienate him completely or he might be forced to show his control over her by letting the others take advantage of her as he had done. Susan vowed to herself that she would rather die-and would do all in her power to avoid being used in that way again.

"Fry them pork chops," Coke answered her question after a few moments thought. "Duke likes 'em."

Susan bent to her task with as much strength as she could gather after the horrible beating her muscles had taken. She was a bit surprised though, that the soreness between her legs was not more acute, considering the ravishment she had undergone. She had done a lot of horseback riding when her father was alive, and perhaps that had loosened her for the final assault that the idiotic Stitch had subjected her to with his fingers.

This was the first time the thought had come to her mind since they left the car. She had been in a complete state of shock since the negroes had first grabbed her, and now even though her consciousness was beginning to clear, she still could not recall all the bitter details of what had happened or why it had happened. She was certain of one thing. She could never forgive her mother again for as long as she lived, for it was her mother who was responsible for her being here at the mercy of this cruel group of criminals.

Why had they used her like this? Sheer lust couldn't be the answer unless they were absolute animals, and the thought was gradually sinking into her mind that perhaps they were. She had not known many negroes, but those she did know were no different than all of her other friends. Why then, this sudden bitter attack on her body, and the use of the name "honky" as a derogatory word toward her? What were they trying to accomplish by all of this brutality?

"Hey man, where's the food," her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Duke's complaining voice from the living room. "You been out there thirty minutes."

"She's gittin' it. Don't worry none," Coke answered from his chair in the corner where he had been sitting patiently watching Susan at work. Though she hadn't looked at him at all during the entire time she had been working, she knew very well his eyes were glued tightly to her almost entirely visible body beneath the tattered gown she was wearing. It had been ripped and torn in so many places that there was very little material left to cover her completely nude body hiding beneath. While she had been getting the pork chops ready, she concentrated on keeping her arm pinned down to the side of her left breast, so it wouldn't fall out in front of Coke. She knew this would be fatal. They were already all worked up so bad by watching Duke rape her in the back seat of the car, that it wouldn't take much to set them off again.

"You 'bout ready, baby," Coke asked impatiently after watching her turning the pork chops, trying to get them to cook faster.

"Yes, they're ready now," she said limply, after a last look into the frying pan.

"Okay, baby. Where ya want it, Duke?" he yelled loudly through the doorway.

"Here," he answered with a laugh.

"You hear 'im, baby. Go to it, and bring all the forks an' knives."

"All right, but it's going to take a minute," she answered coldly. Not only had their leader ravished her young helpless body until she could hardly walk, but now they were turning her into their servant to wait on them too.

"Here, I'll take 'em," Coke said impatiently and grabbed the stack of dishes she had collected from her hands. "You jist git the food in heah, right now," he commanded.

Susan hurried as fast as she could in the dim light of the kerosene lamp, carrying a plate of pork chops in one hand and a bowl of beans in the other. Coke had placed the plates in their places around the table, and she went from one to the other dishing out their portions. It was the first time she had really had an opportunity to see all of them clearly; now, she could feel a cold harsh chill running quickly up the length of her spine as she studied the four negroes who were holding her prisoner.

Shorty, as his name implied, was slight of height. But not really quite as much as he should have been to justify the nickname. In fact, he was just about Susan's height, five feet five. What he lacked in height, he certainly made up for in build. He was broad and stocky, and as she studied him, she remembered the way he had walked from the car to the cabin. It had reminded her dimly of an ape with his long swinging arms that were out of proportion to the rest of his body. It almost appeared as though he could touch the ground without bending over much farther than his natural stance. His face was thick and his broad flat nose, of the central African type negro, set deeply between his cheeks.

Coke, who had been her guardian in the kitchen, was tall and thin with a slight pencil-type mustache that was currently so popular with negro singers. His eyes stayed blatantly on her as she moved around the table serving the others. There was an innate cold cruelty in them that she couldn't really explain, but she knew he had held it in check out of fear of Duke's rebuttal and she found herself again grateful again for his presence, fearing what would happen to her if he were not there.

Duke was a strong, well-built negro who carried himself with an arrogant confidence befitting his position as gang chief. He had long sensuous hands that she could still remember coursing over her body as he had ravished her in the car. His nails were long and sharp and she still winced slightly each time she moved from the marks he had made on her body while he was stroking her. He, too, had a certain cold aloofness about him that repulsed and frightened her. It was almost as though he possessed nothing what-so-ever in the way of human compassion. There was no doubt of the tremendous strength he possessed; she could still feel the welts from his finger on her hips and upper thighs where he had grasped her when he was pulling himself into her.

Stitch was one of the most repulsive persons she had ever seen. His build was much like Shorty, except that it was completely out of proportion. He had a large oversized head that seemed as though it belonged on a body many times the size of the one he possessed. When he walked, the enlarged head tilted to one side as though he could not support it and the slight limp he had added to the off-balance physical effect. His eyes were small and sunk deep in his head with the typical idiot half-smile always playing across his mouth, even when he was angry or hurt.

She feared him more than all the rest of them. At least the others looked half human and might have some reasoning power left in them, but not Stitch. There would be no reasoning or mercy if she ever came under his power. It was unpredictable what he might do if his natural instincts were unleashed from the accepted human restrictions now placed on him.

She finished filling the plates and stood back a few feet from the table with the dishes still in her hand, watching them eat silently with their thoughts. And, there could be no doubt what these thoughts were about. She could detect each of them in turn staring at her out of the corners of their eyes with hungry animalistic gazes that could mean only one thing.

She kept her eyes on Duke as she cowered back from the table. The firelight now burned brightly, elongating weird silhouettes of his profile across the cabin floor. Out of grim necessity, she had accepted him as protector, and for the first time in her young life began to understand more behind the reasoning of the survival of the human race. A few short hours ago, she had been a sheltered and innocent girl, who believed in all the things she had learned about the inviolability of the virgin female form, and how it would be and should be protected at all costs. Now, she shared a sympathy with all abducted females since time began. The tender young vestal virgins of the Roman Empire who were carried off by the Huns from the north; the pioneer women who were carried off to become the wives of savage Indians; and, the ravaged women of Berlin after World War II. They all, from want of food or protection from greater indignities, had accepted protectors that they would have otherwise been repulsed by. It all became ultimately a matter of what one had to choose from, and not what one wanted to choose. The weakest had to choose the strongest of their group for mere survival sake, providing of course, the strongest wanted them. Duke wanted her now and she had no choice if she were to escape the others. She had to give herself to him or suffer a far worse fate at the hands of the likes of Shorty and Stitch.

It was also apparent that Duke could feel the power he now possessed over the young, naive white girl as he ate with a quiet confidence, never once raising his eyes to look at her like the others. He knew she was there and knew she was his, by virtue of his leadership of the gang. His hold on her was his strength and the protection he offered her.

"Git me some whiskey outta the box," he spoke for the first time since beginning to eat, "and bring four glasses, no, bring five. One for you, too, honky baby."

Susan went to the kitchen without hesitation and brought the bottle back with the glasses and watched silently by his side as he poured a drink out for all of them. He poured hers a little more full than the others and pushed it toward her on the table.

"Drink it down without stopping," he commanded, reveling in demonstrating his power over her to the others.

Susan raised the glass and took a small sip, feeling the hot liquid burning all the way down to her stomach. It made her feel slightly sick until she saw Duke's eyes glued to her out of the corner of her eye, and she tilted the glass up again to take a greater swallow. She almost coughed it up, but with a supreme effort, managed to hold it down. A faint light-headedness swirled through her as she raised the glass again and turned it bottom-up, finishing the warm fluid to the last drop.

"S-S-She d-done it," Stitch said with a gleeful ring to his voice.

"I told her to, didn't I," Duke said proudly. "She's gonna be my chick and I don't wanna see none of you bastards layin' a hand on 'er without my okay."

"Aw com'on now, Duke," Shorty protested. "We gotta right too, we all took her together."

"I got the right, remember the club rules," Duke cut him off. "The Chief Leopard gits first choice on all the spoils o' war."

"She ain't no spoil o' war," Coke remonstrated hesitantly. "We got 'er off the street."

"Man, that's the honky war. You heard what cats like Stokley Carmichael and Rap Brown say; we're at war with them honkies. Why you think we're heah, boy?"

"She ain't no part o' it, Duke," Shorty objected again. Susan could see that they were pushing him for all it was worth, and clenched tightly to the empty glass in her hand as the tension between them grew. She knew that the result of this little play of words could decide her fate for the night and she prayed with all her heart that Duke would be strong enough to hold them off.

"She's a honky, ain't she," Duke answered, "'lemmne show ya what I mean, man."

He rose from his chair and grabbed Susan by the arm, pushing her roughly over to the fireplace. Though it appeared to the others that he was hurting her, she could feel a certain restraint in his movement that almost bordered on gentleness. She understood that he had to be firm in front of the others to maintain his status, and she let herself be carried limply along with him across the room.

"Now you cats take a look and see if you don't think she's a honky."

With that he reached to the back of Susan's tattered gown and ripped it down the hack in one mighty jerk. The flimsy material split without effort and floated uselessly to the floor.

She gasped when she realized what he had done and tried desperately to recover the last remnants of clothing she had left to cover her nude body.

"Leave it there," she heard his voice command from above her. "They ain't never seen a white ass before, baby, an' I jist wanna give 'em a little look at what they been missin'."

Susan hesitated, still crouched on the floor where she kneeled in the vain attempt to cover herself. Her arms were folded tightly over her large firm breasts that swayed down voluptuously from her bending torso, naked and unprotected. Her legs were clamped tightly together in an attempt to hide the blonde silken treasure lying between her thighs. She began to tremble from the sudden obscene exposure of her body to the others in the room.

"Get up, baby," Duke commanded tersely. "Let 'em see what all of a white little honky ass looks like."

Susan froze when she looked across the room and saw the others begin to rise from their chairs and walk with bulging eyes toward her, crouching naked and vulnerable before the fireplace. She looked up at Duke with a pleading cowed look in her eyes, but his gaze remained cold and totally without sympathy. This was his moment to shine in the eyes of his underlings, and he was playing it for all it was worth. He was demonstrating, with a calculated purpose, the power he held over her, and all like her. He was cruelly sure of himself, and Susan felt her body rising involuntarily to a standing position before his hard unyielding stare, unable to resist his command.

The others crowded around her, gaping with unadulterated admiration and desire at the full proud young body being exhibited before them.

"Jesus Christ," Shorty breathed. "Look at them titties. Man, I'd like to git my mouth on them."

Stitch stood immobile, a crazy lustful grin on his face. It was all he could do to keep from reaching forward again and fondle the softness of her with his harsh callused hands as he had done before in the car, but one look at Duke cut him short. He had felt his wrath earlier, and that was enough to keep him restrained for a while.

"You jist ain't got no right to hold us off 'er," Coke gasped as his eyes followed the full, ripe contours of her curved hips to the soft silken down at the juncture of her hips and thighs. "We're all in this 'un together, man."

Duke stood proud and defiant beside her, reveling in the control he held over she and the others. It was the supreme moment of leadership for him, being able to play on and control their passions this way. He was confident and sure of his power, and as he stood there, almost smirking at them, a thoughtful contemptuous smile slowly crossed his lips.

"Hey, you cats really want a chance to get at 'er?"

"Man, that's what we been talkin' about all night long," Shorty answered quickly, his eyes locked greedily on Susan's naked body.

"How much bread ya got between ya?" Duke asked as his eyes narrowed slyly.

"We ain't gonna buy 'er. That ain't right," Coke protested.

"Who said, buy, man. I'm talkin' bout a little poker."

"Y-Y-You always w-w-win," Stitch stuttered out his objection.

"Aw, man, come on, I jist been lucky. You might win it all tonight. Take a look at them fine white titties. How'd ya like to get your hands on 'em?"

Susan shrank back as she heard Duke's words. He was proposing to offer her as prize in a game of chance. He just couldn't mean it! He wasn't going to use her as his stakes in a poker game! She had heard of wives being lost in card games of the old west and on the Mississippi river boats, but it just couldn't happen now. Not with these savage negroes as players.

"P-Please don't," she stammered, speaking her first pleading words to Duke since he had assaulted her in the car. She had never thought she could bring herself to beg like this in such a degrading position, but she had no choice. It was total subjugation to him alone or be used as a helpless plaything by all the others.

"Don't you worry, none, baby. They cain't play them boards like I can. We just gonna git us a little pile heah while we got the chance."

"I-I can't do it," she whimpered, her face pressed tight into her hands.

"You gonna do it, baby, if I tell ya to, and, I'm tellin' ya to. So jist shutup and let me concentrate on the game."

"H-H-How much d-do I n-n-need?" Stitch muttered. Visions of the poor helpless girl rolling and tossing beneath his driving cock fiickered through his mind like a pornographic film.

"Five dollars each. Anybody I lose my five dollars to, gits her for one time, and I git my five dollahs back."

"I-I-I only got t-t-two," Stitch whimpered piteously. "G-G-Gemme some c-credit, D-D-Duke, p-please."

"You others got it?" he directed at Shorty and Coke.

"Yeh," they both murmured unhappily in unison.

"We git to do anything we want to with 'er, right," Shorty clarified as Duke led them back to the table.

"Right," Duke laughed confidently. "But ya gotta win 'er first."

"An everybody gets to watch," Coke added, his excitement building at the prospects of getting the young soft white girl beneath him.

"Yeh, heh, you cats can do it all," Duke agreed with a laugh, "and, Stitch, I'm gonna let ya in on it too."

He watched Stitch's face light up for a moment and then added with a teasing glint in his eye, "But all ya git if ya win, is to eat 'er."

"T-T-That ain't f-f-fair," he stuttered back, all enthusiasm dying from his eyes. "B-B-But I'll d-d-do it."

"If you ever git that big ole thing o' yours inside 'er she'd be ruined for life. Man, nobody in town 'ud be able to touch the sides ag'in."

There was no further argument and Duke made Susan clean the table without letting her put her dress back on. It was obvious he was enjoying the covetous glances the others were casting at her naked white body, and wanted to extend his domination over them as far as he could under the opportune circumstances. Susan was forced to stand by Duke and keep the glasses full while the game got under way. She watched each hand with growing consternation and could feel her heart beating faster each time she saw one of the others win.

Duke had made her take another glass of whiskey, and she found herself sipping more heavily from it as the time passed with agonizing slowness. The light headedness she felt from the half-glass Duke had made her drink a short while ago came back again with this additional glass of warm liquid. She needed the courage it gave her to keep from fainting, as she watched her fate being decided by the four negroes sitting at the table in heavy concentration. She could feel her legs wobbling slightly as she lifted the glass more and more frequently to her lips. Duke's luck was becoming worse with each passing hand.

Shorty's smile was broadening as the game continued on. He was gradually whittling more and more of the leader's money away in spite of the fact that he was breaking even, or winning slightly from the other two.

After about a half an hour of intense play, there was a loud moan from Stitch's side of the table. He was out. He rose, throwing his cards with a disappointed flourish to the table, and slumped dejectedly in a chair in the comer of the room.

Susan's heart rose at this turn of events. At least, she wouldn't be subjected to ravishment by the half-wit tonight. It was him she feared the most, for there was no way of telling what he might do to her if he got the chance to be alone with her.

Her joy was short-lived, however. A few minutes later, the ape-like Shorty won over half the money on the table with one hand. She filled her glass again from the bottle in the kitchen and poured another round for the others. She purposely filled Shorty's and Coke's glasses with more bourbon than Duke's. She hoped it might dull their minds to the game and give Duke some advantage, but it was quickly dashed when he raised the glass to his lips and downed it with one quick swallow. He pushed his glass toward her without taking his eyes from his cards, and ordered her to fill it again. She did his bidding, detecting a more and more helpless anger rising in his voice with each passing moment of the game.

Susan tilted her own glass down and took a long swallow. She had to steady herself against the back of Duke's chair to keep from reeling backwards from the table. Her nakedness was almost forgotten now with the greater impact of the drinks she had taken, and she found herself concentrating deeper and deeper on the small pile of money still remaining in front of Duke.

Her eyes were slightly out of focus now and she had difficulty in keeping them riveted to one spot. The table was moving slightly in front of her, revolving slowly around and around, and she had to grasp the back of the chair tighter just to stay on her feet. The alcohol helped, but deep in her mind nothing but total unconsciousness could blot out the horrible truth of her position here. She was nothing but a pawn now in the hands of a wild vicious gang of negroes who would stop at nothing to vent their crazed hatred of whites against her because she was helpless to defend herself.

"Okay, Duke, I raised ya the limit," she suddenly heard Shorty say through her alcoholic daze.

"Ya gotta be kiddin', sittin' over there with a pair of kings. Man, I got that beat a mile. I raise ya ag'in. All I got, mat is if you got the guts, man."

"Yeh, I got the guts, man," Shorty answered with a slight sneer this time. His confidence had grown with each passing hand played, and he could sense victory this time over his leader. His eyes wandered past his cards to Susan's warm naked body leaning against Duke's chair and a small expectant smile played across his lips. His tongue circled them wetly for a moment, and then he continued, "Come on and put 'em up, Duke, baby."

Susan looked down at Duke and for the first time saw the arrogant confidence fading from his face. He hesitated for a moment, and then threw his hand out on the table.

"Lemme see ya beat that ya bastard, you was jist bluffin'. Come on," Duke challenged.

Susan saw the three queens fall to the table from Duke's hand and then a strange expectant glint flickered through Shorty's eyes. A broad grin broke across his thick rubbery lips and his teeth sparkled like the ivory keyboard of a piano in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. His eyes locked on Susan's trembling body as he slowly lowered his hand to the table.

"Read 'em an' weep, baby," he gloated at the vanquished Duke. Three solid kings lay face up next to Duke's queens.

Shorty sat quiet for a moment, as though still unable to believe his luck, and then all of a sudden jumped to his feet.

"Whooooeeeee," he shouted and clapped his hands at the same time. "Some lil honky's gonna get fucked tonight like she ain't nevah been fucked. An' you cats git to watch it all. You can too, man," he taunted down at the dejected Duke.

"Man, it don't bother me none," he lied. "She's jist another honky chick that we gonna git plenty of when we take over. Ya jist better take it light with 'er though, I'm warnin' ya."

"Man, that weren't part o' the deal. I gits all I wants and how I wants it, right, Coke?" he directed at the other jubilant negro.

"That's right, baby. You done won it fair and square, and he ain't got no say. Ya kin even give me some, man, the way I understood the deal."

Duke started to rise from the chair, a menacing look crossed his face, but changed his mind and slumped back down into the chair again. He knew when he had pushed them too far, and if he backed out now, he knew they wouldn't take it. He'd have a revolt on his hands that even he couldn't control.

"Hey theah, honey, how 'bout gittin' me an' the boys a little whiskey, huh," Shorty enunciated his words to stress the harsh, northern negro accent. "You mine for tonight, baby, and don't ya forget it."

Susan hesitated for a moment, still holding tight to the back of Duke's chair where she had frozen when the three kings had been thrown on the table, but moved to follow the ape-ish negro's command when Duke nudged her away with his elbow. He did not look up at her but kept his eyes glued tightly to the center of the table. She went quickly to the kitchen, aware of the three sets of eyes following the slight unintentional sway of her naked buttocks as she walked across the floor. Quivering chills of fear scurried over the paleness of her skin when she heard Shorty's last words just as she passed through the door.

"Crazy, man, crazy. Look at that lil' white ass shake and jiggle. I'm gonna have me a ball punchin' into that."

She poured herself a glass almost full with the thick brown whiskey and drank it down in huge gulps without stopping, until the glass was empty. Her mind ran to all sorts of ways she might escape the cruel ravishment she knew she was going to be subjected to by the squatty negro, but none were plausible. Her situation was hopeless. As her mind raced in desperation, she thought of death, but there was no way to kill herself, even if she could have built up the courage to do so. She gagged on the strong liquid, and thought for a moment she was going to get sick, but even that would not come. Nothing could help her. No one even realized that she was gone from her house, and from the last bitter memory of the scene in her mother's bedroom, she probably wouldn't even be missed until sometime late tomorrow. Even then, they wouldn't have the vaguest idea where to begin looking.

She filled the glass again and drank as much of it in one swallow as she could get down. She gagged, but forced the rest of it down against the rebellion of her stomach. The dulling effect slowly began to take over her body, and she could feel her sense of touch deadening in the tips of her fingers as she clung to the glass. Her eyes rolled slightly in her head and she slammed the glass down on the counter, almost breaking it. As her head reeled, she had to place both hands on the sink to keep from falling. She wished she could get sick. She wished anything would happen that might make her less desirable to them, anything that might save her from this awful fate. It had been bad enough in the car with Duke, but now the shock and surprise that had prevented her from really feeling or understanding the full impact of what she was going through had faded. She was conscious now and fully aware of the things they were going to do to her and the indignities they would force her to accept from them.

As she reached for the glass to pour another drink, she was stopped short.

"What yo' doin' here, chicken," Shorty's rough coarse voice boomed across the narrow distance from the door. "Don't yo' go gettin' outta yo' mind now. I don't won't no dead piece o' white meat under me when I'm gettin' my kicks. D'ya heah me?"

Susan nodded her head dumbly, the reeling in her body intensifying with each second that passed. She had to have another drink though; it was beginning to work. The alcohol was beginning to drive the consciousness from her, helping to blot out the cruel reality that she could not face. She wanted to be dead and unfeeling, and this was the closest thing she could come to it now.

"Now, you git that whiskey like I done told ya and git yo lil' white ass out here. Right now," Shorty said, his eyes working over the full length of her white virginal body.

She waited for a moment until she was sure he wouldn't reappear in the doorway and filled her glass again. She downed it completely, the rough brown liquid burning less now that her senses had been dampened. She had already taken almost a quarter of the bottle and knew they would be certain to notice if she had any more before they became a little more intoxicated themselves. There was no telling what they might do to her if they became really angry.

Susan took the remains of the bottle she had been drinking from, and opened another one from the ample supply they had brought along with them. She wondered how long they intended to stay at the cabin with so many bottles around. There were enough to supply an army, and she hoped against hope they hadn't planned a permanent hideout here. She would never get away in a million years unless they made a move of some kind.

"Where's that whiskey." A harsh cry from the living room turned her toward the door.

Susan used all her will power to force herself to walk back into the living room. She trembled, knowing she had no choice. If she didn't do as they commanded, they would only force her, and that would be a thousand times worse. No, it wouldn't help anything for her to show resistance. In fact they probably would enjoy it like school boys deriving sadistic pleasure in tearing the wings from the beauty of a summer butterfly, merely because it was beautiful.

No, fighting would only make matters worse and she couldn't bear for this to go on for too long. She would just have to bear up under it until the chance for escape came. She knew that she had to do it. There was nothing else in all the world to help her but her own will power and courage. She was alone.

"Me first, blondie," Shorty said as she stepped through the door with the bottles in her hand. "Jist remember whose yo' boss now."

He held his glass out as she drew nearer, a cocky smile stretched across his lips as he relaxed back in the big easy chair. She placed the full bottle on the table and began to fill his glass from the other. All the whiskey she had consumed was taking its toll and it took all her concentration to avoid spilling Shorty's drink on the table. She knew this would be a costly mistake and would probably bring further pain and suffering to her later on if she made them angry now. She knew she had to be very careful.

"Man, yo' really got a nice looking lil' pussy there, baby. Give us a lil' feel now to get us warmed up some," Shorty leered.

Susan automatically jumped back as his thick stubby hand reached out and began stroking the soft resilient pubic hair growing at the base of her white softly rounded belly.

"Freeze, bitch," he commanded coldly. The cruel unyielding tone of his voice immobilized her and she stood cringing next to where he was slumped down in the chair. Her face crimsoned at the indignity of having to stand there unable to move as his harsh callused fingers coursed around the secret protective parts of her exposed genitals. She could hear through tightly clenched eyes the snickers of the others in the room as they watched her black tormentor taking indecent liberties with her white young body. She moaned softly in shame and humiliation as she suddenly felt the tip of a finger part the sparse blonde pubic hair and push itself into the soft fleshy folds surrounding her vagina. It was still moist from the ravishment she had undergone in the car some hours ago and she heard a slight gasp come from his lips as he felt her openness.

"Yeh man, it's gonna slide up that tight lil' hole nice and easy like," he murmured as he worked his finger up and down the length of the narrow hair-lined slit. "Ole Shorty's gonna bake his bread nice and long in this lil' oven. He's jist gonna lay theah and soak and rise, and soak and rise, 'til the sun come up in the morning."

Susan felt the blood rising in her head until she thought her brain would burst from the pressure. Her face was beet red from the indignities being heaped upon her. Now as the others looked on, their demeanors slowly changed from one of amused fun to a slow smoldering desire.

Duke sat still slumped over the table, his eyes gazing darkly around the room as he watched the jubilant Shorty slowly working himself into a sexual frenzy that he knew was going to erupt in a volcano of rape within a matter of minutes. He wanted with all his soul to rise at that moment and smash his fist into Shorty's face until there was nothing left but a bloody mass of unrecognizable flesh for what he was doing to the girl. Not because of any particular feeling for the girl, but because he had possessed something the others had not, and now they would have it too. At least, Shorty and Coke would. He had warned them about that bastard, Stitch, and they had better heed the warning or he would forget they were his brothers in this war against the honkies.

"Don't put no marks on the girl," he suddenly commanded, rising from the table. "And remember, that crazy bastard don't touch 'er."

Shorty was suddenly jerked from his eager probing between the trembling Susan's legs by the harsh gruffness of Duke's voice, and withdrew his hand by instinct. He was disciplined to following the leader's commands without question, and this was no exception even though he had won the girl for the evening. He knew he could get away with almost anything as long as he stuck to what he could argue logically was his, but if he didn't, there would be danger he was not prepared to accept.

"Awright, he cain't have none," Shorty agreed after a moment's thought. He knew he had a right to argue over whether he should let Stitch have some or not, but wanted to take no risk now of losing the voluptuous prize he had won by pushing Duke's well-known temper too far.

"I'm gonna go to bed now," Duke announced as he kept his cold stare on Shorty, then made his way to the bedroom door and paused. "And, I'm gonna hold ya for whatever happens," he growled as he shut the door behind him.

Shorty stayed silent as he watched his leader disappearing through the door, then let his eyes flicker back to the downcast Susan still standing by his chair. He rose slowly, and with a sudden move that caught her completely by surprise, grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm painfully behind her back so that she was forced to turn and fall back against him. Coke and Stitch jumped up from where they were sitting and crowded around her so they could see the exposed view of her white curvaceous front. Stitch's eyes glowed like a cat's in the dark, as he feasted them hungrily on the firm round breasts pointing out at him, gleaming in the firelight.

"Y-Y-Y-ou gonna let m-m-m-me fuck 'er t-too, ain't 'cha, Shorty," he stuttered excitedly from the impact the sight of Susan's body was having on him. "H-H-He won't d-d-do nothin' if ya let me."

"You jist gimme a hand when I need it, man, and I'll see," Shorty leered through his toothy mouth. It was obvious he was enjoying his sudden thrust into prominence by winning the poker hand, and he was going to glean every satisfaction he possibly could from the situation, including lording it over his fellow gang members.

"Yo gonna do what I say without no trouble, white girl," he suddenly directed at Susan, who was struggling in front of him against the pain in her arm.

She clenched her teeth tightly together and refused to speak.

"Yo' better learn to listen to me, baby," he hissed, and continued to twist harder.

Susan grunted from the increased pain, but still refused to speak. Her face was locked in a determined expression of defiance that seemed to increase with each moment the final assault on her helpless body drew near.

The weakness and lethargy she let herself sink into earlier had faded, and she now found herself resisting them automatically with all her moral being. Even the cruel inhuman pain she was being subjected to could not overcome the intense revulsion and hate she felt for the three dark and almost animal-like faces surrounding her. She had to resist even though she knew her fate was inevitable. Her final punishment and humiliation would be in their hands.

"Awright, honky bitch, ya asking for it," Shorty finally growled in frustration and anger at the unexpected courage of the helpless girl. "You guys gimme a hand."

He jerked forward and pushed her toward the filthy rickety bed against the far wall. Her arm was almost twisted to the breaking point, and it was almost with relief that she felt herself being pushed face down onto the mattress, causing him to release her wrist from the cruel hold he had on it. But… it was only a momentary relief. As she struggled to hide her nakedness with her hands and arms, other hands reached out from the side of the bed and pressed her tightly down into the dirty creaking mattress.

"Hold 'er down," she heard a voice command through the haze, as without warning, a hard fist smashed into the side of her head. She groaned and her arms and legs went limp, her body splayed wide and helpless in a spread-eagle position across the bed. She trembled loose and quivering for a moment, and then tightened the muscles of her body again as she heard Shorty's next foreboding words.

"Gimme the belt outta yo' pants, Stitch. I'm gonna teach 'er a lesson she ain't ever gonna forget."

She cringed down into the lumpy mattress like a child cowering before the beating of an angry and unrelenting parent. And like a small child, there was nothing she could do but lay before her tormentor and take whatever punishment he desired to inflict upon her helpless body.

Shorty took the belt, and holding it by the buckle, twirled it experimentally in the air. He laughed cruelly as he watched her cringe deeper into the bed when she heard it singing threateningly in a small evil circle over her naked back. A vicious grin played on his face, showing his white ivory teeth through the large thick lips that surrounded his mouth. The others haunched close over the bed, their mouths hanging open in undisguised passion at the young helpless form trembling in stark terror before them. Shorty, taking full advantage of his new-found position, commanded them like puppets.

"Duke said not to mark 'er," he grinned. "Put that sheet over 'er and hold her down. One on each end."

Stitch quickly threw the ragged filthy sheet across the length of her body, and then reached through the iron uprights at the foot of the bed, grasping her twitching ankles in a steel-like grip. Coke grabbed her arms through the uprights at the head of the bed and pulled hard, stretching her between them like a helpless victim on an ancient torture rack. Her slender voluptuous body gleamed Goddess-like through the thin veneer of the tattered covering they had thrown over her.

"Now, honky bitch, ya gonna beg ole Shorty for a lil' niggah cock. Ain't that what yo' honkies call us?" he spat at her venomously.

For the first time, Susan managed to cough out a few painfully muted words through the hurt and hopelessness of her situation. She couldn't stand the thought of being punished and used for a prejudism she didn't bear against anyone.

"No, no. I've tried to help you, I've tried to help you," she half mumbled, half shouted up at him, tears of helpless indignation streaming from her reddened eyes.

"How, baby, how?" he tormented back down at her.

"I've marched and everything," Susan moaned, realizing even as she spoke that it was completely useless. All this was an excuse they were using to commit all the vile criminal acts they could get away with in the name of revolution just as the Russians and Cubans had done when they had raped and slaughtered thousands of innocent people in the name of social justice.

"But you ain't had no niggar cock, baby, and that's real integration," he smiled evilly and lashed the belt down hard against her buttocks under the thin sheet. Susan screamed and jerked her body, but she couldn't overcome the strength of the other two negroes holding her arms and legs. The belt raised and descended again and again in the chuckling Shorty's hand, tracing a painful path the full length of her writhing and twisting form.

"Agggggghhhhhh!" her shrill screams reverberated through the room, and the belt continued to lash down against her sensitive skin for a seeming eternity of pain and hurt that she thought would never end. Her dazed and tortured mind was beyond all comprehension of why they were doing this to her. She had tried to help them, she had done all that was possible in a town this small where the problem didn't really exist. She had taken part in the sit-ins against the unfairness of housing laws in the larger cities and supported all the drives for money for the poor in the southern states that were supposed to be starving to death. She had done everything, everything! And suddenly she began to wonder why, as her body jerked again and again beneath the cruel hard blows Shorty was raining down on her squirming back and buttocks.

"Tell me what you want ole Shorty to do to you, baby," he laughed aloud, after the punishment had gone on for a seeming lifetime. "Beg ole Shorty to give you a lil' black cock."

Susan moaned and clenched her teeth tighter together until it seemed as though she would die from the shame and pain of the horrible torture she was undergoing at the hands of the sadistic negro. But, she did not speak. She could not bring herself to this final depth of degradation that he was demanding of her. She had given them everything else and just could not bring herself to this one last act of total subjugation.

"Ooooogggghhh!" she moaned as he increased the intensity of the cruel lashing.

"I'm waiting baby," he tormented again through smiling teeth. "Beg ole Shorty to fuck ya."

"Ohhh, God, please don't, stop it, stop it, you're killing me. Oh God, you're killing me," the poor girl whimpered and screamed beneath the renewed viciousness of his attack.

"Beg me, baby," he chided gleefully as he sensed her weakening before the cruel assault.

"No, I can't, I can't. Oh God, no, don't make me," she screamed on and on until suddenly she could stand it no more. She gave one final long, low whimper and her body went limp on the bed. Shorty held the belt still for a moment listening to the soft pleading mumblings that began rolling from her half-opened mouth pressed tightly into the softness of the mattress.

"Fuck me… fuck me… anything… Oh God, can't stand it… don't care… just stop… please, please."

The negro's wide sadistic grin broadened as he heard the pathetically whimpering Susan's final admission of surrender to him. Breaking the will of this voluptuous young white girl to his own depraved desires gave him a sense of power he had never possessed before. It was something he would not have dared dream of three years ago when he had first joined the gang and to plot against the honkies with the early planners. It was something that was just beyond his wildest dreams… and now… like the revolution… it was happening.

He stepped back and threw Stitch's belt back to him. There was no longer any reason to hold her. She was completely limp, and all the fight had gone from her tortured and aching body. She was his for the taking, and he knew it. So did the others as they gazed down on the prostrate body of the young defeated girl. Shorty reached over and jerked the sheet off her back.

"See man," he smiled proudly at Coke, "Nuthin' but red marks, and they'll go 'way soon."

"Yeah man," Coke answered, a new found admiration for Shorty showed in his voice. "You gonna fuck 'er now?"

"Look at that man," Shorty pointed down to the rising bulge in his pants. "I'm gonna fill that lit' belly o' hers with black power 'till it pours out her ears."

"J-J-Jesus, l-l-look at 'er," Stitch stuttered in excitement, saliva rolling unnoticed from the edges of his mouth. "K-K-Kin I t-t-touch 'er, S-Shorty?"

"Yeah, go ahead while I get my pants off," he answered with a benevolent tone to his voice. He knew his generosity would give him even more prestige in the other's eyes and still wouldn't violate his promise to Duke. He stepped back and began unzipping his pants, while he watched Stitch reach over the side of the bed and almost reverently cup Susan's soft resilient flesh in his hands. His dilated eyes burned bright in the dim light of the lamp as his rough coarse hands moved over the rounded whiteness of her buttocks, twisting and kneading the flaccid globes of soft yielding flesh with an unsatiated lust.

She lay unresisting before him, slim and voluptuously curved at the buttocks and shoulders which flowered out teasingly from her narrow young waist. She moaned low in a half daze, intensifying the erotic picture her innocent, almost unused body presented to the leering dark eyes surrounding her.

"That's enuff," Shorty suddenly warned, as he saw Stitch's fingers begin pulling open the cheeks of her buttocks and inserting themselves down inside. "I'm gonna stuff 'er now."

Susan lay trembling with her face pressed tightly into the mattress. Part of the tattered unclean sheet was clamped hard between her teeth to still the throbbing pain that raked her body. She lay cowed, unable and not caring to move. All thoughts of resistance had been crushed from her by the lashing belt that had played over her helpless body a moment ago. She had an urge to turn her head back, and look at them to show her defiance, but there was no strength left in her now. There was no further sense in prolonging the inevitable rape they were going to subject her to again. She had fought with honor, and they knew now that whatever they took would only be the spoils of a greater physical strength, not the conquering of her soul.

Let them take it, damn it, ran through her tortured and dazed mind. Let them rut into her beaten body if that's what they called victory! It was the only kind they would ever have!

Suddenly, she felt Shorty's hands coursing over her back, and she quivered again. She did not resist for fear of further pain. She knew that now her resistance could only be mental and would be a victory only within herself.

"Turn around, honky," Shorty commanded above her. "Take a look at what a lit' black cock looks like."

She didn't move or answer until she suddenly felt his hand tangling in her hair. He jerked her head up and around a few inches off the bed. Her eyes opened automatically and her face contorted in horror at the long thick black instrument that he held over her head. It was monstrous and webbed all along the underside with heavy throbbing veins, giving grim advance warning of the lustful state he had worked himself into during her beating. Her eyes trailed a slow path up the length of his torso to his face, a piteous and useless plea nestled in them, pleading for mercy. There was none. Nothing but a cold and unyielding face staring down at her.

"Like it, honky?" he tormented.

She tried to answer, but her voice was frozen somewhere deep in her chest.

"Like it, I say," he hissed again and twisted her hair viciously in his hand.

"Y-Yes, I like it," she finally managed to stammer through the pain and degradation.

"Well now, I'm gonna put it way up in that white lil' belly o' yours 'till ya can taste it," he grinned sadistically.

Coke and Stitch laughed nervously from excitement, thinking of what was about to happen. It had been different back there in the car when Duke had been laying it to her. They couldn't see it all in the semi-darkness of the car. But, now she was stretched out before them completely naked in all her youth and innocence… and they were going to watch her get fucked like they had never seen anyone get fucked before. Both their eyes glowed like hot coals in the shadows from the anticipation that had been building like a storm since they had first abducted her off the streets hours back.

"Hold 'er until I git it in," Shorty ordered nervously. His voice quivered from the salacious thought of what he was about to do to this virginal young white girl, and his long thick cock ached like it had never ached in all his life. He dropped to the bed and rolled across the full length of her back, his face pressed into the dean soft odor of her blonde hair that glimmered in the firelight.

Susan winced from the attack and began to struggle weakly, but unseen hands forced her back deeper into the mattress. Her arms were pulled to the sides of the bed and held in a vice-like grip that could not be broken. Shorty's knees behind her were slowly and relentlessly forcing her knees apart with a rough pressure that scraped the tender backsides of her thighs and calves.

She strained with all her power to keep them closed, but it was hopeless. She gave a sudden "oooomph", as the breath surged from her lungs, and her resistance broke. He dropped between her legs as they spread wide across the mattress, her toes hanging out over either side of the bed. A soft helpless moan escaped from her tightly closed lips as she felt the hardness of his penis make warm wet contact with the soft inner flesh of her thighs. He moved forward, insinuating the full length of it along the narrow wide-stretched crevice of her buttocks. Her shoulders were held down tight against the bed so that her struggles were limited to her lower torso. Her buttocks squirmed and twisted beneath him, inciting his lust to the utmost.

"Git up on yo' knees," his voice breathed into her hair.

She tried to stiffen her body more and pressed tighter into the mattress. Bitter tears of anger and fear ran from her cheeks, wetting the sheet under her face as she felt his smooth hot skin pressing dowel onto her, covering the full length of her prostrate body. She tried not to move now after the command, knowing whatever she did would only worsen her position.

A hand pushed down on the back of her head, pressing her face tight into the mattress. She struggled for a moment to breath but could not. She tried to cry out, but her mouth would not open. A faint dizziness swept over her from the lack of oxygen and she let her body go limp. The hand was released, and she gulped desperately at the air greedily filling her tortured lungs with welcome relief. Hands on her now relaxed hips pulled them powerfully up off the bed, another hand staying hard behind her neck to keep her breasts and face pressed harshly down into the mattress. By the time she fully recovered her breath, her buttocks were waving high off the bed behind, and she made a momentary and fruitless lurch forward to flatten them again. The hand pushed her face tight back into the mattress cutting of her breath as before.

She relaxed and ceased her struggles. She knew she would eventually give in the end, anyway. There was nothing left now but horrible humiliating submission to their every obscene desire. Her body was a helpless toy to be used as they wanted in their animalistic quest for satisfaction… satisfaction that would only cease when they had exploded their hot liquid desire deep inside her soft and resilient body that was now beyond all resistance and care.

Kneeling behind her, Shorty gazed down at the full white moons of her buttocks stretched up in sacrificial offering to him, with eyes bulging wide in hot uncontrolled desire. God, he had never seen anything like it. His balls tingled and ached, and he longed to thrust forward into the narrow teasing slit swinging into the air before him right now without further hesitation. But he couldn't. He had waited too many hours to get her like this, helpless and kneeling like a slave in front of him… he had to get the most from it.

The negro held himself back, purposely torturing himself for the moment in anticipation of when he would thrust forward and slide his throbbing black cock deep between the full white moons of her proud little white ass swaying gently and defeated before him. She was an arrogant little bitch, and he wanted to break her more than anything else in the word. He wanted to feel her squirming beneath him, needing him as much as he needed her. That would be the ultimate conquest; a proud white bitch that was repulsed and horrified with the thought of a black cock fucking into her suddenly turning animal and loosing all control over herself, forgetting who she was, where she was, and all but the overpowering need to be fucked until she couldn't move again. The thought raced through his loins like an electric shock.

His animal cunning burned. By God, he was going to make this little honky bitch squirm one way or another… and like it whether she wanted to or not.

For a few torturing moments he ground his long thick cock around in the narrow white crevice of her ass, pressing the soft quivering cheeks of flesh together around it to enclose it like the fitting of a warm fur-lined glove. He leaned forward and planted a warm wet kiss with his thick rubbery lips along the standing ridges of her spine, feeling her quiver beneath him. She groaned slightly as her body shook and trembled from the moist contact at her loins and back.

And when he backed off slightly, running his long pink tongue slowly and wetly down the full length of her back until he reached the tightly clenched crevice of her ass swaying gently, high off the bed. Her shoulders were still held hard down against the mattress by the leering Stitch and Coke.

Shorty dropped his hands to the full rounded buttocks, placing his thumbs on either side of the soft resilient cheeks and pressed out gently. He knew this was the time for patience. She had passed the first stage of physical submission by violence and now the conquest of her mind and spirit must be done by softness of touch. The unexpected change from pain and brutality to one of tenderness and caressing of her private parts should, in spite of her resistance, catch her off guard.

She had geared her mind to the fighting of the pain and humiliation… but not softness and pleasure. She was not prepared for it.

Her buttocks clenched together against the pressure he was exerting with his thumbs, and he eased off slightly still keeping up a constant easy tension for a seeming thousand seconds, until the straining muscles of her inner thighs slowly tired and relaxed, bit by bit. His face was crouched on the same level with the thin red folds of flesh that covered her vagina and as he watched, eyes gleaming, they slowly parted before the almost imperceptible out ward pressure of his thumbs. He could see a slight moisture forming and glistening on the soft insides of her thighs, as with the easing of the pain and the fatigue of resistance, she let her backside slip wider and wider apart.

He moved his face forward, careful not to shake the bed and alarm the sudden trust building inside her from the gentle touch he was subjecting her body to now. His face was a scant few inches from the soft blonde pubic hair covering the tender resilient flanges of her vagina, and the odor was one of sweetness that drifted incitingly out to his flaring nostrils. He swallowed deeply as his thumbs pressured outward and her secret cavern flowered open to his frozen gaze until suddenly it was completely open and the soft inner flesh came into tantalizing view. It was pink and smooth and a slight moisture from her secretions was visible, glistening and wet on the soft inner flesh of her thighs.

He breathed hard and blew softly into her. She squirmed and he could hear a faint groan slipping from between her now open lips. She tried to move slightly, but the pressure of the other two negro's hands held her tight in place. She was becoming quiet now, and her movements were not one of escape or fear but of reflex from the torturing touch of his hands and breath against the softness of her secret parts.

Susan tried to still a rising moan she could feel building deep, deep inside her throat. The sudden lessening of the pain had done something to her… something frightening. It had been like the release of a great weight pressing down on her-and the unbelievable relief that follows the sudden lifting of such a burden.

She sighed, and let her muscles that had been so keyed against the torture relax in to a loose tranquillity that increased a thousand fold by the sudden absence of pain.

But now, there was something else… something had replaced the harsh blows that had rained down on her helpless form a few moments ago. It was soft and feather-like, except that it was wet… wet and warm, and was making strange magical circles along the length of her naked and unprotected back. She shivered slightly as it worked its way slowly down to the rounded moons of her buttocks widely exposed behind her.

There was a pressure from somewhere, and she felt a cool rush of air race between the full spreading globes as the pressure increased in intensity. She clenched them tightly together in automatic rejection to the strange unknown probe. The pressure remained, gentle, and lingered as her dazed mind puzzled over it. Where was she? Who was she? What were the light tiny animals running over her sensitive flesh, caressing her kneeling body as though they were human things except smaller and a thousand times more gentle.

"Mmmmmm!" she sighed, and her buttocks relaxed in a great feeling of warmth and peace as suddenly her behind felt open and wet as it had never felt before with the ever constant pressure pushing outwards again. Susan did not resist, and another long low mewl escaped from her lips as she let herself be pulled open wide by the magic beings playing upon her. She tried to move her shoulders, but they were locked tightly to the softness of the mattress by harsh hands whose touch she did not recognize. Richard? No. Her father? No. She could not think, but it did not matter, they were no longer hurting her, there was no longer the excruciating pain that had covered and permeated her entire body a few short seconds ago. There was only the light rising sensation of floating, floating on a soft gentle fleece-covered cloud whose very warmth belied the presence of danger.

Shorty, kneeling behind her with his thumbs holding the crevice of her buttocks wide, grinned an obscene grin. He could feel the thoughts running through her body and knew he had won his short patient battle as the cheeks of her ass slowly relaxed in front of his excited face. He pried them wide, wide apart until all of her crotch stood open and unprotected before him, his for the taking.

His head raised slowly and he pressed his face forward, pushing open his mouth hard against the wetness of her vaginal slit. She squirmed slightly and he tightened his hands on her buttocks so that she couldn't slip away and with one quick rush of his thick wet tongue, he thrust it forward between the warm fleshy folds of her cunt.

He heard her gasp from the sudden unexpected entry into her soft wet passage and a surprised sigh smothered itself into the mattress. She had jerked forward with the first hot teasing contact in an involuntary spasm of delight but quickly screwed her buttocks back hard against his face. Her vaginal passage contracted, opening and closing tightly around the long smooth length of his tongue sunk deep inside her. Her breath exploded down into the bed in small quick gasps that muffled themselves into tiny mewling grunts, twisting her face harder and harder into the bed as he began a sudden curling and flicking of the wet moist tongue imbedded up inside. He pushed his lips closer and began to work at the whole of her open backside, sucking and licking at it crazily while her buttocks throbbed and swayed around his face almost out of control.

"G-G-God Damn," the open-mouthed Stitch gasped as he watched with unbelieving eyes her sudden and complete surrender to the black wildly licking face buried in her cunt behind.

Coke could not speak. He had released one hand from her shoulder and was pressing it tight against the outside of his pants where a small circle of seminal fluid had seeped its way through from the hard throbbing excitement of his aching cock. He released her shoulder with his other hand as there was no longer any need to hold the subjugated girl so hard, and began coursing it up and down the quivering flesh of her back.

Shorty worked slave-like behind the kneeling Susan, his tongue withdrawing and plunging, with drawing and plunging, making a wet sucking sluicing noise with each wicked thrust. Her cries were one long low continuous moan now, as he withdrew his lashing tongue suddenly from inside the warm, smooth passage and found the hard, throbbing clitoris and licked. He pushed his face farther under her crotch and began to suck and tease at it gleefully with his teeth, while she writhed and churned her buttocks above him in a lewd dance of desire.

"Ooooh, ooooh," she chanted, her body and mind completely out of control from the delicious and obscene sucking of her loins. With a lewd and triumphant satisfaction, he could feel the muscles of her buttocks hollowing and contracting around the sides of his cheeks as he licked and sucked at her with a greedy untamed animal lust that threatened to drive him completely crazy.

Her cunt flowered open wider and wider, and her moistness increased with each further second his sucking mouth worked at her wide-stretched hole. It ran in slight warm trickles down the side of the negro's cheeks pressed tightly into the softness of her ass warmly enclosing his face, and down the inside of her smoothly working loins into the soft inner flesh of her hollowing thighs.

She was almost ready to cum!

He could sense it from the wild abandoned tempo of her body and knew it was time, time to ram his cock into her innocent softness. He wanted to feel it throbbing around him when she reached that climax that was so near now, and wanted to explode inside her white little belly with himself in rhythm to her own cries of fulfillment. He wanted to fill her full of his hot nigger cum until she would never forget tonight as long as she lived. The spoiled little bitch, he'd show her what nigger cock was like and how good it could be. She'd never want one of them honky whites again, he'd stretch her so wide, she'd never be able to even feel one again. All the years he had spent in bitter subjugation himself began to bubble over in a boiling cauldron of hate and lust and the desire to hurt.

His long thick cock ached from the anticipation he was building, building, while he worked at her loins with his hot punishing mouth. With some difficulty, he slithered up to his knees and worked his hips into the now wet and glistening opening of her buttocks from behind.

"J-J-Jeez, he-he's gonna f-fuck 'er now," the gasping Stitch stuttered.

"Yeah, man," Coke breathed, his own cock now out of his pants and held tight in his free hand.

Shorty was kneeling behind her now, his hips pressed tight into the open crevice of her ass. He held the throbbing thick black cock tightly between his fingers with the large blood-filled head poised at the tight elastic opening of her cunt. He watched it with lust-gleaming eyes as the tiny wet lips contracted and throbbed around the edges like the mouth of a fish gasping desperately for breath in the hostile environment of a neglected fishbowl. He ached all over from the thought of the lovely young white girl kneeling in abject servitude in front of him to be used as he would for as long as he would.

His gaze was locked on the whiteness and purity of her body, and he let his eyes feast for the slightest of seconds on the way her soft full ass curved sharply down into the narrow wasp-like waist that looked as though it would break from the slightest of pressure. On either side of his kneeling legs, he could see her white thighs tapering down sharply to her small well-formed knees and then blossoming out again to the fullness of firm shapely calves. He envisioned her lying on her back with the dainty strength of those white calves locked tightly behind his ass pulling him into her in a savage burst of passion that only the mind can conjure. That would come later, flickered through his brain. Now his penis and testicles ached as they had never ached for anything before, and he had to ram it into her now before it was too late… before he emptied his sperm all over those soft white buttocks kneeling helplessly before him.

There was just a finger's length between her open and fully exposed vagina and the end of his cock now, and he pressed her buttocks wider apart to see it more clearly. His cock jerked slightly again as though unable to contain itself when the tiny I puckered anus came into view just above the moist opening of her vagina. For a moment he was tempted to take her there, but the thought passed from his mind as he felt a small dewdrop of moisture forming slowly on the end of his tortured prick. He had to have it now or it would be too I late; he couldn't hold back another instant.

He moved forward, slipping his knees as far up between her wide stretched thighs as he could he possibly go, and guided his long thick cock forward between his thumb and forefinger, gently parting the soft blond pubic hair with the rigidity of the throbbing head. He felt the warm soft folds of the ragged edges of her cunt close wetly over the rounded tip of his cock.

He groaned.

He had never in his entire life felt anything so soft and tender. Trapped between the delicious layers of wet ready flesh, he let it lay throbbing for a moment. The lewd contact of his thick black cock pressed into the whiteness of her behind, incited him to uncontrolled lust.

God! What a feeling, droned through his now dazed mind. He had to take her.

Shorty flexed his buttocks, feeling all the frustrations he had built up over a lifetime of being a black nothing suddenly surging forward with him into the warm wet flesh of the groaning white girl in front of him. He gasped aloud through the silence of the shabby room, as he felt the tight hot walls of her contracting cunt soothingly slipping over and then wetly enclosing the rock-hard length of his surging cock.

"Oooooooh," she grunted beneath him as he surged into her, pushing the smooth, giving walls of soft flesh inside before him like rippling waves off a speeding ship. Her body trembled and shook before the sudden assault that took her completely by surprise. She had lain dormant before the strange unknown caressive torture her battered body had accepted with grateful joy after the brutal beating it had undergone, but suddenly the mood changed. Gone were the tender wet probings of her vagina that had seemed so unreal and faraway. Gone was the daze that had encompassed her mind and taken her into another world of half-conscious ecstasy.

She was suddenly thrust back again, back again into the reality of the shabby dirty room on the filthy squeaking bed with her shoulders being pressed down painfully again into the musty mattress. Her shame and humiliation returned with a vengeance, as she felt her thighs and buttocks being swept wide apart by the thick black cock of the negro who was tunneling up into her mercilessly from behind.

"Oooh, man, she's tight," she heard a loud low gasp spit through the room behind her. "God, what a pussy!"

She squealed suddenly, not from the pain, for there was none. She was wet and open, and he slid into her easily from the warm moist secretions that had flowed from her vagina during the teasing ministrations of his tongue a moment ago. But she squealed from the sudden and degrading realization that she was hopelessly trapped on the bed between the hands of the negroes in front of her and the thick rampaging cock skewering into her from behind. She screamed for him to stop, helpless tears of frustration and humiliation flooding again from her terror-stricken eyes. But there was no respite, the intrusion deep in her dilated vagina grew and expanded before his uncontrolled assault until she felt the sudden heavy weight of hard muscular loins crushing hard into her buttocks, sweeping them wider and wider apart as he pressed forward more with all his strength to sink it as deep inside her quivering white belly as far as he could.

"Man," Shorty breathed, his lips bared back tight over his broad white teeth. "I'm all the way in, man."

Susan groaned piteously beneath him, her face pushed deep down into the mattress by the pressure from behind, until she could hardly catch her breath. Her vagina felt twisted and stretched as though she were being impaled on a telephone pole. She fought, clenching the muscles of her buttocks tightly together to keep the long hard fleshy stab from imbedding itself further. But, it was useless. Her struggles only incited him more, as her cuntal muscles clasping around him, wet and warm in protest against the unwanted entry, enclosed around him like warm melted butter, and made the huge black cock throb and grow inside her until she felt stretched and filled in her belly and loins beyond all possible imagination.

Her back ached horribly now, from the cruel position she was still held in for so long on the mattress, and she tried to move, but the hands had pressed against her shoulders again after her warning move when Shorty had rammed it into her from behind. She felt other hands too, hands roaming over all of her body not occupied by the negro pressed tight into her buttocks from behind. Her breasts were being kneaded and squeezed by fingers that had slipped secretly between them and the mattress while she had been occupied with the skewering of her vagina. They were hard and cruel and brought her tiny bud-like nipples to an involuntary erection from the harshness of the naked contact with her flesh.

Another hand coursed over the ridges of her cruelly bent spine and followed it down to the juncture of her buttocks where quickly and without preparation, he thrust a finger deep into the confines of her tight unused anus. She jumped from the first painful intrusions, and then froze to ease it a bit. The pain passed as her back passage slowly became adjusted to the unnatural intrusion.

"I-I-I got my finger in 'er a-a-ass," she heard the moronic Stitch stutter excitedly through the daze of the three-way rape. "M-M-Man!"

Tiny bursts of protests broke from her lips. Her vaginal passage felt stretched and tom beyond all possible repair, and the dual ravishing of her loins with Stitch's long thick finger implanted deep up her rectum made the feeling all the more intense. She tried not to move as she felt the pain easing with the stillness of her body, but the crazed negro ground and twisted his finger deeper, circling it and expanding her anal passage until she thought it would split from the almost unbearable pressure. The hand cupping her naked breasts beneath, twisted and squeezed with brutal thoroughness, teasing and pulling at every part of their young round firmness until she thought they would burst from the painful manipulations.

Kneeling behind her bent and trembling form, Shorty flared his nostrils and began fucking in and out of her with long, lunging strokes. His short thick hands held tight to the rounded curves of her hips, slipping the moist sheath of her stretched and throbbing vagina back over the thickness of his cock as though he were thrusting his hand into a small Vaseline filled glove.

But this was still not enough for the lunging negro. He had to have more from this proud little white bitch who wouldn't even have spit on him if she had met him on the street. He wanted her bent to his will, completely bent to his will. He raised his hand high in the air as he continued the powerful in and out strokes he had established, and brought it down hard against her quivering white buttocks. The flat smack of flesh against flesh echoed like a rifle shot through the room. Susan's scream shattered the quiet an instant later.

"Move that lil' white ass, baby," he hissed be hind her. "Move it good."

Susan complied without hesitation. She knew enough by now to realize the first blow would only be followed by more if she defied him. Her buttocks rotated slightly with her first cautious experiment with movement, and then, feeling no pain, she let herself follow his rhythm, grinding and twisting her ass back against his hard driving pelvis as though she were glued to it.

"Come on, shake it, honey, shake it," he rattled through tightly clenched teeth, as he felt her begin to react to his hands digging into her gyrating hips.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she exclaimed again and again, as she bucked beneath to his command. The sounds she made were muffled and indistinct from her face buffeting hard down into the mattress. With his every hard forward lunge now, his thick black cock which filled her cunt to the bursting point, flung her hard forward against the restraining hands of the two negroes holding her shoulders down to the bed. She felt as though she were being attacked by a giant ape who was pushing her thighs open to the utmost angle and reaching to the deepest point in her belly with his monstrous ever-growing cock.

His fingers kneaded and squeezed at her buttocks with a wild frenzy, jerking the imbecilic Stitch's fingers from her anus and replacing it with one of his own in a hard cruel thrust into her soft rubbery depths.

"Aaaaghhh," she screamed unheeded.

He swept and rammed into her with a growing frantic abandon of sensation from the hands working at her every sensual part. She could feel him thrusting more sadistically now, the sight of her bucking body inciting him to greater and greater effort. Her breath had become one long continuous groan that was no longer muffled by the filthy sheet. She was droning it out into the room her face turned sideways on the mattress so that he could look down on it and see with lust-gleaming eyes, the effect it was having on her. Her lips opened and closed fish-like in torment, half in humiliation and shame from the sudden uncontrollable feelings surging through her, and half in fear that she would be ripped asunder by the cruel hands coursing brutally over her body.

There was suddenly another movement around her head, and she could feel the mattress dropping in front of her face as a heavy weight descended around it. Fingers were fumbling with her lips, trying to open her mouth and then she felt a spongy, wet sensation pressing against her lips. She jerked her eyes open and to her horror saw, right in front of her face, a long black cock about seven or eight inches long. Coke, who could no longer take the lust inciting scene of the white girl being fucked from behind by Shorty, had sat back on the bed and wriggled under her face. It was pressed tight into his loins and his legs were splayed out on either side of her shoulders.

He lifted her head, with the flat of his palm pushing back against her forehead, and with the other hand was forcing the head of his prick into her mouth. She mumbled in terror and revulsion and tried to shake her head away, but he held her tight and she could not move. She could only clench her teeth and lips tightly together and try to keep it away, but he was not to be denied. As he increased the pressure, it felt as though her lips were being pushed back through the sharpness of her teeth. He groaned and struggled against their softness, feeling them parting, tiny bit by tiny bit, until suddenly with the aid of an extra hard lunge from the negro fucking her in the rear, she gasped. The broad thick black cock crushed through her soft, moist lips and into the wet warm cavern of her mouth. She could feel the hugeness of it slithering tip the length of her tongue and filling her mouth completely with its thick fleshy hardness.

Coke, in his lust-incited state, began to slowly screw his cock up and down toward her face with his thick prick sliding in and out of her mouth. His hands held her head in a vice-like grip, with the palms pressed hard against her ears. She struggled mentally against the obscene rape of her mouth, but it was useless as he quickened his thrusts to match those of Shorty fucking into her from behind, never quite pulling it all the way out, but always leaving a slight part of the tip beyond her lips in the hot moist shelter of her mouth.

Susan closed her eyes, her humiliation knowing no bounds. She felt numb to the world around her, devoid of sensation. In a trance-like state, she watched the length of the long black cock where it came out of the fly of his pants and jerked toward her mouth like some horrible snake creeping from its hole in the ground.

"Suck, baby, suck," she heard him command harshly above the top of her head… and she did. She was conditioned to following their every command now from the fear of the pain that would follow if she didn't. Her lips slowly began to nibble at the thrusting instrument, and she coughed and sputtered at first until she became accustomed to the unnatural invasion of her mouth. She tried not to think about what she was doing, but it was impossible not to. His testicles bounced against her chin and there was stale odor of sweat around his loins that filled her nostrils with constant reminder of the cruel depraved attack she was being subjected to.

Behind her, Shorty could feel himself building toward the end. He knew it would be soon and began to fuck faster into her, harder and faster, battering mercilessly the quivering cheeks of her ass with his hard driving hips. His hands gripped her waist hard, squeezing the soft flaccid flesh into random crazy shapes beneath his fingers. His lips bared back against his teeth, and he could not close his mouth. His breath came in short stuttered machine gun blasts that crackled obscenely through the dark room. He stared down at her slender bucking body and bobbing head. The contrast of Coke's long black cock disappearing into the chalky whiteness of her face, shot chills of lightening-like sensations up the length of his spine. He tore at her buttocks, stretching the twin moons as wide apart as he could and watched his own long black cock disappearing into the moist pink flanges of her cunt in an exciting contrast of black into white.

"Jesus, Jesus!" he sputtered, "Christ."

As he worked demon-like behind her, his eyes flickered smokily back to her tender lips clasping and unclasping around the growing black cock of the negro in front, who was forcing her to suck him. Susan worked in a daze at the command of his fingers, licking and sucking like a hungry child as he forced her to follow slave-like with her lips, his every thrust into the tender shelter of her mouth. Her ravishment continued on and on at both ends of her bent and tortured body as the crazed Stitch cupped and kneaded her jiggling breasts hanging down beneath her bucking torso with a cruel hard pressure that periodically jerked her mind from the ceaseless rape of her other tender parts.

The saliva in her mouth grew and grew. It was becoming slightly sticky now as small emissions of lubricating fluid seeped from the end of the negro's cock into its warm depths. She could feel his hips writhing and straining below her bobbing head as though he were in the last spasmodic throes of death. His long sensuous fingers were curled tightly in her hair slipping her mouth up and down over the end of his thrusting fleshy instrument as though it were another cunt into which he was venting the full wrath of his animal-like lust. She could feel it stretching and expanding inside her mouth until there was no room left, and moaned piteously around it as it thrust forward hard down to her tonsils as though it were trying to meet the other hard cruel prick skewering deep into her belly from behind.

She had never felt so utterly used and debauched in her life, and sucked with her mouth and wriggled her buttocks from behind wildly to end it as quickly as she could. There was nothing else but that now, nothing but to please them as best her innocent young body could, and pray it would be all they would demand.

The negro in front of her jerked suddenly as though stuck by a pin, and writhed his hips up tight into her face, sinking the full length of his cock deep down into her gasping throat. She fought to breathe, but it was hopeless as suddenly his cock erupted in the warm wet interior of her sucking mouth, unintelligible sounds of profanity rolling from his lips. His hot thick liquid squirted into her mouth like the rush of raging water through a small storm drain, and she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed, her cheeks inflating and deflating all the time from the pressure of the bursting dam of sperm. It lasted for a seeming eternity, her mouth filled with the pungent taste of his sperm and passion, and then it jerked a long last jerk, and softened beneath her swirling tongue. Her senses were gone and she was hardly aware of it when a moment later his cock oozed in a slimy soft mass of flesh from between her lips. His hands pulled her head limply forward to lay trapped against the whole of his trembling loins.

She could still feel its rubbery soft length pressed tight against the cheek of her face, when she heard a grunt from behind her. She felt her thighs and buttocks swept wide apart in one last ass-crushing rush, as the other negro fucking into her mercilessly, shoved it as far as it could go in her belly and began spewing his hot sticky liquid deep up inside her. His mouth opened wide with a loud uncontrolled, "Aaaaaaah," as she felt his lewd sperm filling her vaginal passage with a great rush. She could feel it flooding hotly into her and filling the depths of her womb until she thought she would burst inside. There were several convulsive jerks of his pelvis against the soft cheeks of her ass, a desperate digging of fingers into the soft flaccid flesh of her hips and then he fell forward over her back pushing her face down across the exhausted and satiated negro who had just forced her to suck him dry.

There was no movement except for the stuttering sounds of the moronic Stitch, masturbating by the side of the bed, his eyes rolling wildly in his head as he too approached an orgasm. There was a movement of bodies, and Susan felt herself falling to the mattress as Stitch slipped from under her and Shorty lifted himself exhaustedly from her back. There was a sudden cool rush of air between her legs as his deflated penis withdrew from her ravished and wet loins.

She rolled over on her back and lay still, unable to move and not caring. She had never felt so debased and lost in all her life as a horrible picture formed in her mind of what she must have looked like, being buffeted between the two negroes like a helpless rag doll. Her body ached and she dimly felt hands crawling over the wetness of her thighs, which were still moist from Shorty's sperm. She did not move and felt the lips of her vagina being pressed apart again and looked up through half-slit eyes to see the crazed Stitch kneeling between her open legs, his long hard cock poised in his hand for entry into her. She closed them again, and drifted into semi-consciousness not caring anymore.

Then there was the vague sound of a hand smacking against flesh and then an angry voice.

"Ya stupid son-uf-a-bitch," Shorty snarled, "Duke said ya couldn't fuck 'er."

Then a defeated whimper and a weight lifting from between her thighs. Her eyes flickered open again for the briefest of moments, and she shivered as she saw Stitch standing over her naked body at the side of the bed. He was stroking wildly with his hand at his large black penis, locking his eyes insanely down on the wet moist mound of her loins that glistened in the kerosene lamp as though covered with a light coat of early morning dew. She heard him groan and felt a sudden rush of hot sticky wetness flooding over her naked breasts.

And then, there was nothing. As she drifted down into a welcome protective cloak of sleep and exhaustion, just as she lay, too battered and lost to even put her legs together.

CHAPTER THREE

There was no sun the next morning, and the low forest mists surrounding the clapboard shack created an air of dismality that seemed to permeate the atmosphere with a heavy cloak of doom.

Susan sat huddled before the fire, draped in one of the tattered blankets from the bed upon which she had been so brutally ravished last night. Her body ached horribly in all the tender places the three negroes had so mercilessly pressed their attentions upon. Duke had awakened her early, in the same position she lay after the horrible depraved attack, and she was grateful for she had been able to freshen herself a little in the cold water from the kitchen before the others awoke. She had repaired her torn gown in a makeshift way, using several pins she found around the cabin, and Duke had retrieved her panties and brassiere from the car. From these few remnants of cloth, she had covered herself as best she could.

The others had awakened shortly afterwards. She had prepared them breakfast, refusing to look any of them in the eye, though she could feel their arrogant gazes peering right through her all the time she worked. Duke had not mentioned what had happened to any of them, but it was plain he was not happy that he had given her up for the evening. In fact, she felt rather secure in the knowledge that it was not likely to happen again in that way. If she was called upon to give herself, it would be only to him and not the others. Strange, she thought, as she raised her head and looked around the room at the four negroes who held her captive, how the perspective of things changed when one had no other choice. All things in the world were really relative to one another. She had taken her choice of all the boys in high school, and had picked Richard because he was most like her.

Now, she had only the choice between these four brutal criminals, all of whom, except the imbecile Stitch, had ravished her against her will, but she still had to make a choice between them for her protector. She knew it wouldn't take much show of preference on her part to get anyone of them on her side, although Duke was the one she needed. He was the leader because he was the strongest. He may be more brutal than the others, but still he had exhibited a certain tenderness toward her after the rape in the car, and would not have let the others take her last night if he hadn't been so confident of himself in cards. Even then, when he had lost and had disappeared from the room to let the victors have their way with her, she half expected him to return and reclaim her. But, of course, under their code, which she knew she could never understand, he could not, no matter how much he may have wanted to. Life itself meant so little to those brought up in the ghetto jungles, so how could she expect they, the survivors, to care about such a small intimate thing as her lost virginity? She was an object to be used, like a tin can they might suddenly come upon in the gutter and kick along the street until they became bored, and then kick back again into the gutter from which it came. No, her only hope for survival was Duke, and that meant subjugating herself to him completely, until she could find a way to get out of this horrible mess she had fallen into.

"I-I-I think I hear them c-comin'," Stitch, who had been sullenly reflecting on his missed chance last night, suddenly exclaimed. "T-T-There's a c-c-car."

The others jumped up and rushed to the window expectantly. They had been waiting patiently all morning for whoever they were supposed to meet. Susan had heard them quietly discussing a plan of some kind where the word riot had come up often, and she had begun to wonder then if they really were just ordinary hoodlums, or something much more dangerous. What ever it was that they had in mind, it seemed to be something very important to them. Duke had been nervous and on edge all the while they had been waiting, as though he were afraid of something or someone… perhaps, she would learn the answer soon now.

"It's about time," Duke growled, looking at his watch. "They's over two hours late."

The low roar of a car engine could be heard coming up the road, and then turning into the short dirt driveway that led to the shack. It stopped, and the sound of two doors being slammed could be heard from the outside.

"Hot damn," Shorty sudden slapped his knee and grabbed his stomach in laughter, "He's done brought Jodie with him. You gonna ketch hell ovah this lit' honky chick now, Duke."

Susan turned from the fireplace where she had kept her head down looking into the blazing logs, when she heard the loud laughter and the words that Shorty was throwing at Duke. She felt his eyes turn to her for a moment and then look back out the window.

There were two pair of steps coming across the porch, and then the door opened. A tall lithe mulatto negress entered first, and seeing Duke, rushed to him and threw her arms around. She held him for a moment, and feeling no response, backed off with a puzzled expression on her face.

"What's the matter, baby, don'cha recognize me?" she asked quizzically.

"That isn't the reason, is it, Duke?"

A second well-dressed negro, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and sporting a small goatee, entered behind her and nodded toward the confused Susan, who still sat huddled beneath the blanket.

The negress turned her head, and for the first time saw the cowering white girl before the fireplace. She stood still for a moment, her hands on hips, and glared down at her from across the room. She was a striking thing, as a really good-looking negro woman can be, with long flowing jet black hair that glistened down over her shoulders, and fiery black eyes that burned through Susan like two hot belching volcanic craters smoldering before eruption.

"Who's the honky bitch," she hissed through her tightly clench teeth, a quick rising hatred in her voice.

"She ain't nobody," Duke suddenly defended. "I brought 'er here to keep us company while we plan the thing. That's all."

The others snickered. It was obvious they were enjoying the position Duke had been put in by the unexpected arrival of his girl, and also the thought that perhaps it would free the white girl for them to enjoy again as they had last night.

Susan sensed this, and she could see the imbiced a certain tenenly brightening as the thought penetrated his mind. He had sulked all morning after Shorty refused to let him ravish her battered body, but she knew he had not given up by any means. She had caught his eyes flickering over her with an undisguised lust in them when he had thought no one was looking, and she found herself trembling each time he did. She remembered him masturbating over her broken and exhausted form last night and shooting his lewd sperm across her naked breasts, as she had lain helpless and beaten on the bed. God help her if she ever were at his mercy without Duke to protect her.

"Well," the negress sneered with cocky self-assurance and started with a swagger across the room toward Susan. "I just gotta see what this little honky gal's got that I ain't."

Susan cowered back against the wall next to the fireplace, as the girl reached down grabbing the corner of the blanket and ripped it from her shoulders, exposing her tattered gown to the eyes of the others in the room. "Well, looks like somebody's been havin' some fun, and it better not be you, Duke, baby," she half snarled as she saw the condition of the cringing Susan's dress.

"Leave 'er alone," Duke growled from the window where he was still standing. "I do what I like, ya hear. Nobody tells me what I can do or cain't do."

"Stop it, you two," commanded the well-dressed negro. "We've got more important things to discuss now than who gets lover boy here."

Susan held her breath as the angered negress towered over her, still holding the blanket in her hand. She glared down at Susan for a moment with the most intense contempt she had ever seen in any human's eyes, and then suddenly threw the blanket back at her, and turned away.

"Ain't no honky bitch got what I got anyway," she said, walking seductively across the room and placing her arm in Duke's. "He's my man, and he's gonna stay that way, ain'cha honey?"

"Aw, shut up, and let's get to work," Duke said, ignoring her question directly. He turned to the other negro, "Did ya bring the bread, man?"

"Yes," the new arrival answered, raising the briefcase he carried in his hand. "But," he hesitated, "there are some things that have to be settled first, some very important things."

"Then let's git with it," Duke said, walking toward the table. "We got some questions for you too."

Susan watched them pulling chairs up to the rickety wooden table that stood in the corner away from the fireplace, and preparing for what evidently was to be an extremely important meeting. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of conflict between Duke and the man who had just arrived. Duke had greeted him with a cold reserve that she hadn't noticed he possessed before. He could be cruel, yes, but the reserve was something else, and she was certain she could detect a little fear mixed in his almost contemptuous manner toward the man.

The man was educated, there was no question about it from the way he dressed and spoke, and perhaps, this was the element that Duke feared the most. He obviously did not know about the world beyond the power of strength, and maybe he could feel himself being bypassed, even by those of his own kind.

This was something new to many negroes, she thought as her mind raced back in retrospect, remembering things her father had said – things she had never absorbed before because she had never been directly exposed to them. She could remember him talking about the sudden push for educating the negroes, and how this was creating a gap among their own people, the educated and the ignorant. This gap began to breed suspicions among those like Duke who had learned to live on strength and cunning alone.

Perhaps, she reasoned, Duke had his place too, by virtue of the fact that he had developed such animal cunning and physical strength. This was his education of survival that was older than the human race itself. The new university breed, the lucky ones who had escaped the ghetto, or had never been born there… they knew about the ways of the law and how it could be used to accomplish the same purpose with greater effect than the strength of old. Their movement, her father said, was much like the American labor movement and the rise of unionism. It hadn't been many years since union organizers were treated as criminals and jailed for trespassing on company property. Now, they had their own laws that protected them just like the negroes that benefited from the new civil rights laws.

But, as with the unions of yesterday, opportunists were always there to exploit the great unrest smoldering beneath this kind of social movement for their own fortune and power. These were the new breed, like the well-dressed man sitting at the table now, she thought. The university ones, who had nothing to lose because they had already passed the barrier. They already had their position in either world and could use those still attempting to climb up from the ghettos with impunity and disregard. They were expendable and exploitable because they worshipped their educated leaders, and if a man could boast of this, they asked nothing more from him. They're like lambs being led to slaughter, Susan thought, as she studied the man with the horn-rimmed glasses with a renewed interest.

"Hey," Duke's voice burst across the room, interrupting her digressions. "Help Jodie with some chow."

Susan automatically rose to her feet at his command, pulling the blanket tight around her like a cape and started for the kitchen. She dreaded going in there, because she knew she would be alone with the tall negress who was Duke's girl. She knew also that she had made a bitter enemy that could be far more dangerous than any of the others had been so far. She had studied her back by the fireplace, and could tell by the way she hung onto Duke that she was insanely jealous of him. In fact, there was not the slightest doubt in her mind that Jodie would kill for him if she were forced into the position. Susan had read grim accounts in magazines of what girls from these gangs had done to each other over possession of their men, and shuddered as a few of the more grisly details filtered through her worried mind. She would just have to be as careful as she could, and stay as close to Duke as possible. She had to, for the sake of her life. Nothing she could do or say would change the negro girl's enmity towards her now, and without Duke's protection she would be at the mercy of all the others. She would rather die than go through another horrible ravishment that her body had been subjected to last night.

No, there was only one way out. And that was by giving her all to the negro leader, in spite of her repulsion of him and all the others. Duke was her only hope for survival.

"Here's the map," she heard the educated negro say as she passed the table. "We're gonna make last summer's little warm-up in Detroit look like a Sunday school picnic."

"Okay, man," Duke said skeptically, looking over the table at the two girls as they disappeared into the kitchen. "Spell it out fo' us."

Susan followed behind the negress girl as they entered the kitchen, and did not say a word. She knew that whatever she did say would be taken with anger and didn't want to start anything, though she knew something was bound to happen sooner or later. The negress did not intend to let her off so easily for her encroachment on her man, even if she had been raped. If Jodie had the least opportunity, she would make it unbearable for her.

Jodie went right to work, as though she had been through this kind of thing a hundred times before. She said nothing at all to Susan as she followed her silent indications over what was to be done in preparation for the meal. First, came the bread, and then the thinly sliced lamb that they had brought in abundance. She remembered looking for some ham in the grocery bags last night, but could find none. It was then she recalled reading about the black Muslim movement among the ghetto negroes; of course, they did not eat ham, instead they followed the Moslim religion of the Arabs and made their staple food, lamb. This fit so well with the many other puzzling factors about them that she still didn't understand fully.

There must be a strong purpose in this gathering, she thought, and a far more evil purpose than merely holding up supermarkets or mugging drunks in back alleys. She could not place her finger on it yet, but from the few things she had picked in isolated bits of conversation, it was sure to be something big they were planning.

"Don't touch it," Jodie snarled, as Susan made a move to pick up the tray that held the sandwiches. "I'll take care of 'em. You jist wash up and stay heah in the kitchen."

Susan gladly followed her command. The more she stayed away from the others, the less problems it would create for her. The imbicilic Stitch was beginning to get on her nerves the way he undressed her with his lewd glances out of the corner of his eye when he thought Duke wasn't watching. She realized that the less she stimulated his desire with her presence, the safer she would be later.

She busied herself washing up the things they had dirtied while the negress disappeared through the door with the tray. She wished she could stay alone all day and collect her thoughts, or try to, but knew it would be impossible. She might possibly have a chance to escape if she had enough time to recover her wits and think hard enough. It shouldn't be too difficult, as they weren't watching her that closely now. They didn't even seem to be worried about it, but she knew that if she did try, she had better succeed. Once they caught her at it, she would never be given the chance again, and she was sure her punishment would be swift and harsh. No, she would just have to bide her time and wait for a chance that could not fail.

"Duke says you're to come out in the other room," Jodie suddenly said from the door. "He don't want you alone in heah."

The tone of her voice was cold and filled with a hatred of the most intense kind. The negress had realized now that her position with the leader was in jeopardy by his concern over the white girl. Susan could feel the change of her attitude from one of sudden confused jealousy, to a deep animal loathing whose intensity knew no bounds.

The negress filled half the doorway and would not move as Susan started out to join the others in the front room. She paused for a moment to give her the chance to let her by, but Jodie remained defiantly entrenched where she was standing, fire sparkling in her black eyes.

"He's mine, and I'll kill you if you touch him," she hissed into her ear, being careful that the others could not hear. "And," she added as Susan squeezed by her, "I won't do it fast-like. It'll be nice and easy, so's you can feel it all the way down to white hell."

Susan trembled, pausing for the slightest of seconds as the girl spoke to her, and then continued on as though she had not heard her.

"Come on, baby," Duke smiled proudly as she came into the room. "I want ya to see this heah plan. Ya might wanna change sides in this heah war when ya see what we got cookin' for the honkies down in Chicago."

"I don't think she ought to hear this Duke," the newly arrived negro said quietly. "If it gets out before we're ready, it could ruin the entire plan."

"Man," Duke answered, looking him coldly in the eye, "You bring the bread and you lay the plan, but don't tell me how to git it done."

"Alright," the other negro said after pausing for a moment, "but remember, if anything goes wrong, you'll have to answer to the man. Not me."

"I'll answer to the man," Duke said confidently. "As long as he sends the bread."

It was obvious that whatever they were planning had something to do with the riots that had been going on in a small scale for the last several weeks. This negro tanking to Duke seemed to be an intermediary between Duke's gang and someone else who was running things on a much broader scale. Susan could see also, that the union between the two groups was very shallow, and was not being done on Duke's side for any particular social or philosophical reason. It was being done because he and his gang were being paid to do it, and nothing else.

"Sit down, baby, and listen." Duke motioned to an empty chair beside him. "You gonna see how the great race war of the summer nineteen hundred and sixty-eight really began."

Susan sat hesitantly in the chair, aware of the glaring eyes the negro girl had locked on her. She dared not look up at her for fear of giving away the dread that permeated her whole body. This would be a mistake now, and would only bring further retaliation. If she stayed near Duke and kept his confidence until her chance for escape arose, she should be safe, and, it was the only way she could be assured of escaping the others. Particularly, the lust-crazed Stitch, who even now was licking his lips nervously as he watched her from across the table.

"First, man, the bread." Duke halted the well-dressed negro as he started to point to an enlarged map of the Chicago Woodlawn ghetto area that was laid out on the table. "How much ya got?" Duke persisted.

"One grand, as we agreed before," he answered matter-of-factly. "Straight from Havana."

"Is it real?" Duke asked skeptically, and then added, "Lemme see it."

The negro lifted the briefcase off the floor and reached in to pull out a large stack of twenty dollar bills.

"Care to count them?"

"Naw, man, just wanna make sure they's real," Duke answered and peeled one from the stack where they had been placed on the table.

He looked it over carefully, studying every detail by raising it to the light and looking intently through it. After several minutes, he turned his head to the waiting visitor and nodded his approval.

"Looks okay," he said. "We been stuck with some phony stuff for some o' the other jobs we done for ya."

"You spent it, didn't you, like it was real," the other negro said impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, man, it was good stuff, but for the risks me and my boys takes, it oughta be right stuff. We don't charge much, ya know."

"I'll tank to the man about it in the future," he was answered curtly, and the negro turned back to the map.

Susan watched him carefully. In spite of her concern over her own precarious position, her curiosity had been aroused by the trend of the strange conversation. Most of the people she knew were of the opinion that the negro ghetto flare-ups that had occurred throughout the country were a spontaneous kind of thing that had been brought on by accidental incidences, and were not the result of some master plan controlled by any central organized group. Now, she was not so certain, and concentrated on the well-dressed negro's words as he began to speak.

"This is where we start it," he said with a grim tone to his voice. She could see that he was pointing to a side street that ran adjacent to the main artery through the Chicago ghetto.

"They'll never expect it here. They'll be looking for it on the main drag where they've got all the fuzz concentrated. We could never get a crowd gathered otherwise. They'd have it broken up in two minutes after all the lessons they learned last summer."

"W-W-Where ya g-gonna git a c-c-crowd," Stitch stuttered, a puzzled expression on his face.

"That's what you four and the others of your group get the thousand for," the speaker answered with a smile. "You see this point on the map," he continued, pointing to the center of a block. "This is where two of you will get picked up by the cops for being drunk and breaking a window in the cleaning shop that's located here. When they arrive to arrest you, you'll start a fight so they'll have to call a patrol wagon and bring in others. This will isolate them from the main group on the next street so they can't organize into any kind of wedge formation to break anything up before we can get started."

"Man, that ain't gonna git no crowd," Shorty, who had been sitting silent, interrupted. "We gotta hundred beefs goin' all the time down there."

"Next step," the negro continued as though anticipating this objection, "is a molotov cocktail through the window of this supermarket just down the street. They've got a stock of cleaning fluid and other inflammable material stored right next to the window where it goes through. It'll go up like a Roman candle. This, of course, brings in the fire department."

He paused for a moment with a self-assured smile on his face, and looked around the table.

"Does everyone see now the beginning of a crowd?"

"Ya crazy, man, ya talking about a hunderd years for anybody what gits caught," Duke spoke with alarm. "We cain't do that, for no money."

"You'll have help," their visitor said with quiet confidence. "Once this stage is reached, they won't have time to worry about arresting two drunken brawlers and an arsonist. You see these buildings?" he asked, marking five of them on an enlarged map.

"These are better sniper positions than all the trees in the jungle of Viet Nam. We've marked out twenty vacant rooms that we can pick off the honky police and firemen from, and have another forty for alternate positions that each man moves to after his primary position is discovered. We've twenty-five of the best trained guerrilla fighters you can find anywhere already familiarizing themselves with the area and their escape routes. When one building is overrun, we'll get out through the sewers. If one knows those underground routes well, there's no one in the world who can catch them unless that person knows them too, and so far, the honkies haven't caught on to the fact that we aren't just another mob. They haven't planned for the way we're going to do it this time."

"Where'd ya git these guerrilla fighters ya talkin' so big about," Duke interjected, a forced skepticism in his voice. He didn't mind the planning and brainwork of something like this being in other hands if the money were good enough, but violence had always been his business, and he sensed a sudden tinge of jealous concern flicker through his mind with the realization that even this was being taken from him. "I got guys that kin take care o' honky cops."

"You got guys that can use a shive or zip gun," the smooth self-assured negro said contemptuously. "That did the job last summer, but it won't do it this time. We can't leave it in the hands of amateurs."

"Man," Duke half shouted at him and leaped to his feet. "I kin take on all twenty five of them cats o' yours anyday and don't ya try and tell me I cain't."

Unruffled by the sudden outburst, the negro out lining the plan stepped back from the table and put his hands in his pockets. He stood still for a moment not saying a word as Duke leered at him with clenched fists across the width of the table.

"Say it, man, say I cain't, lemme hear ya say it," the enraged Duke shouted again.

His antagonist turned back to him and spoke without raising his voice. "Can you fire an M-16 rifle, Duke?"

There was a long silence and Susan could see the blood rising in Duke's face as he suddenly sensed a defeat that he was unprepared for.

"Naw, man," he finally sputtered, his voice lowering a degree in bitter retreat. "But what's that got to do with it?"

"Just this," he was answered in a calm even tone. "The honky National Guardsmen down on the street know how and they've got them. They could cut down your boys with their knives and zip guns in a matter of minutes. You wouldn't stand a chance. The men we've got there now have learned to use their equipment well, taught by the honky army itself in Viet Nam. And, we've just brought them back from six additional months in Cuba where they've had the best guerrilla training in the world. And, another thing, they've got M-16's too, and can use them ten times better than the young green honkies in the guard."

Duke stood for a moment, his composure and command completely gone, and then sat slowly back down in the chair. He had no answer for that argument and knew the others knew it too. They had seen the city last summer when the guard had moved in with their tanks and machine guns and automatic weapons, and nothing he could say now would matter one bit. His own men would know he was wrong and that the smooth-talking educated son-of-bitch with the black horned-rimmed glasses was right. A puny thin bastard that he could twist into nothing with his little finger, and here he was humiliating and degrading him before the others like he was dirt. And, there was nothing he could do about it; nothing in his background had prepared him for arguing against this new confident breed that were slowly taking over the world he had known and controlled by brute cunning all his life.

Susan felt the impact of the heavy silence that followed the one-sided and unequal exchange, and suddenly within herself, in spite of all she had gone through at the hands of the four brutal negroes, found her heart going out to them and all their kind. For some reason, she remembered with clarity at this particular moment a favorite statement of Mr. Herman, her anthropology teacher in school, about how funny the first two legged clumsy creatures to walk upon the earth must have looked to the monkeys swinging gracefully through the trees. She had always pictured them following the earth-bound creatures through the jungles, taunting them with their excited chatter and throwing objects down on them from above, safe and secure in their haven above the ground until one day, eons later, they suddenly found themselves caged and gaped at as objects of jest by those very creatures they had tormented with such impunity at an earlier time.

And now, now she could picture Duke and the others tormenting in the same way from a ghetto street corner someone much like the goateed and horn-rimmed negro now twisting and leading them into an oblivion that could set their cause back a thousand years. She could hear them throwing crude obscenities at his dress and perhaps tearing the books from his hands in a cruel gesture of superiority. And now, now he had returned with a vengeance to cage them in their own ignorance of the world outside the ghetto that only he had visited and could compete with. They had no choice, the new breed were the catalysts around which their cause had become centered, the black power, the militants, because no one else had a plan to lead them from their misery that promised anything else but a vague hope in the future. At least the promise they received was a promise of action… where that action would lead was another matter… but it was action. That was all that mattered now.

"So what's gonna happen to all those people, man, once we git 'em in the street and all fired up?" Duke spoke defensively now. He had conceded by his own primitive logic the point he had lost a moment ago.

"Some will die," the well-dressed negro answered matter-of-factly. "They have to, it's a war."

"I got brothers down there in them streets," Duke said, attempting to regain a small bit of the prestige he had lost in the eyes of the others. "You mean you gonna let them honkies shoot 'em down."

"They may not, but we will," the other said coldly. "It's the only way to get them fired up enough to take the law into their own hands. We've got to alienate them completely from the honkies and all their one hundred years too late programs for curing the ills of our people. The man has instructed our snipers to fire on the mob. The honky cops will be blamed and there'll be no holding them back after that."

"Man, we cain't kill our own people. Let's git them honkies, I kin do that, but not our kind," Duke objected with an almost pleading tone to his voice.

"You've got no choice, you've taken the pledge to follow the decisions of the group and this is the decision of the group. Besides, I said this was a war and people must die in wars. We need martyrs to unite our people as one against the honkies and for what they stand for, otherwise, they'll never get mad enough to take what belongs to them. That's the way it's going to be and you're coming along or be left behind, so take your choice right now. I'm sure the others are with me."

Duke looked around the table at Coke, Shorty, and Stitch. They did not look back at him but kept their eyes lowered to the map on the table. There was no doubt which way they would go if he put the choice to them.

"Okay, man," he said after a few minutes. "Let's get on with the plan."

There were no other objections after Duke had had his say and Susan sat in stunned and helpless silence as the whole horrible plot was outlined before her eyes that would leave a major part of downtown Chicago a gutted and useless city. It was a military operation, pure and simple, which even she as a girl could understand. Gone were the days of the peaceful freedom marches through Mississippi. Gone were the days when whites marched alongside them in their quest for a better world for themselves. It was color now, black against white, not human being working with human being and could only lead to a senseless and vain slaughter in the end that would accomplish nothing but the building of a barrier between them that could never be breached ever again.

***

It was dark when the meeting was over and the visiting negro folded his maps and packed them away in the brief case. Duke had followed the complicated plan all the way through even though the others had lost interest long ago and had had to be prodded awake several times as a reference to their part in the operation would come up. Susan had maintained her alertness through-out, even forgetting for short stretches of time, her precarious position with the gang. Again, she had caught the others at various times glancing over at her with obvious remembrance of the pleasure her young virginal body had given them last night. All, that is, except the still sulking Stitch. His glances were of pleasures yet to come from that body that had been denied him by the others at the command of the leader. Brutal pleasures he would tear from her at any cost if he were given the slightest of chances.

"They's gonna be a lotta mad honkies when this things ovah," Duke said without enthusiasm as the other negro prepared to leave.

"That's the point," he smiled. "If they don't like the black man, then they won't do a thing to help him. And, if in a so-called democracy, the majority doesn't do it, then it doesn't get done. That makes the naggers madder and they really blow up."

Duke winced slightly at the term "snigger" applied by one of their own kind and it suddenly became clear to Susan that this man did not consider himself as one with them. He, and the others he worked with, had placed themselves in a category aside and did not identify themselves at all with those they were using as so much cannon fodder to get their so-called people's revolution under way. Civil rights, beginning as a wonderful and legitimate cause for the rights of man, had fallen to the enemy as a bitter and uncontested gift of history that would change the direction of man kind for all time to come.

"We'll be down to see ya tomorrow, man, to set it oh." Duke said, standing at the door and then asked quizzically, "But one other thing, man, if you got all them guerrilla fighters, how come ya need us?"

"It's got to look local," he answered simply and then added with a half contemptuous smile. "Re member, it's you people that are unhappy and causing all this."

"Yeah, man, you're right," Duke said half under his breath and closed the door behind him without waiting for him to turn and leave.

Susan was glad when she heard the sound of the car engine leaving the house even though she knew it only brought the time closer when she would be without a doubt, subjected to more indignities at the hands of her captors. But, the well-dressed negro created a greater and far more terrifying fear in her of the picture he had suddenly presented of the chaotic and explosive world she was going to have to live in for a long time to come if she lived. Right now, the wanton abuse of her body and senses seemed like such a trivial thing although she knew when the moment came again she would react with as much revulsion and horror as she had before because it was happening to her, here and now, and was not something of tomorrow.

"D'ya want something to eat, honey," she heard the negro girl ask Duke in an obsequious tone. "I know you're hungry after all that."

"Shut up," he answered gruffly, indicating the bitter mood the meeting with the educated negro had left him in. "Jist bring me the whiskey."

The others remained quiet, knowing full well they dare not cross their leader at this moment. They had seen him in moods of this nature before and knew the violence he was capable of when aroused as he was now. He had been humiliated and defeated in front of them in a contest not of his own choosing and this did not sit lightly with one of his pride and position. He was accustomed to leading and not being led and this world had ended for him this afternoon. Ended with a sudden and cruel realization that now he was one of them, a Shorty, a Stitch, a Coke, with no more control over his own kind than the new breed chose to allow him.

Susan sat and watched him drink, growing more alarmed at his increasing intoxication as the evening wore on. The others sat quietly at the table in the corner playing cards for matches and talking in low whispering tones that were not audible from across the dimly lit room. They too were drinking heavily from another bottle on their table. The negress, Jodie, sat patiently by Duke's side, periodically filling his empty glass and drinking along with him. Stitch tended the fire that filled the almost silent room with eerie flickering shadows and created an unreal atmosphere that hung over the tiny shack like death itself. It reminded Susan of the silent and thoughtful campfires of the civil war that she had read about when men knowing they would die tomorrow in a planned attack busied themselves as best they could. Some in thought, some in other small ways that kept their mind from what was ahead on the all too near tomorrow. She could see it affected Duke that way and perhaps the others too but they did not show it except in their silent concentration on the game before them which she knew belied their real thoughts. They had plans for her tonight again. She could tell by their sudden muffled chatter and the furtive glances they would then cast her way as she sat in the chair at Duke's side away from the negress. She was grateful for the tall glass of whiskey he had silently poured her earlier and drank heavily from it, periodically refilling it as it emptied. It helped and she knew she could not have stood the awful waiting and strain until Duke made some kind of move to indicate what her fate was going to be for the evening. She knew too that the thought had been on his mind. If he took her tonight he would have the wrath of the negress to deal with, but if he didn't, he knew he would have to give her to the others. Her eyes had wandered once to the far corner of the room to the filthy bed where they had raped and ravished her so long and so brutally last night and she found herself muttering a silent prayer that he wouldn't let them do that to her again. She just could not stand it, no matter what she had to do.

"It's gitting late, baby," the negress suddenly broke the heavy silence, and touched Duke's arm. "Let's me and you go git in the bed."

Duke remained silent but it brought response from the others. Coke, obviously selected to be their spokesman, rose and walked over behind Susan's chair. He placed a hand on her trembling shoulder and spoke haltingly to the leader.

"Man, you got Jodie tonight, ain't no reason we cain't have the honky again, is there?"

Duke looked up at him and for the first time since the meeting had ended several hours earlier smiled.

"Yeah, man, theah's a reason," he said drunkenly. "She's sleepin' in my pad tonight."

Susan's heart skipped a beat and a sudden strange feeling of relief ran through her shaking body. It wasn't much, but at least she wouldn't be raped by all three of the others tonight. It was a shallow victory but one that under the circumstances was an important one.

"Baby," the negress on the other side of him pleaded in disbelief. "You cain't mean that. That's a honky bitch and we've all swore we'd kill 'em all."

"Shut up," he said angrily without looking at her. "When I say the word, don't you or no body question it."

"But, baby," she whimpered next to him. "We bin together a long time and done a lot."

"Shut up, I said," Duke snarled and slapped her hard across the face. "Ya heard my decision."

The negress sat with a stunned expression for a moment, hurt registering in her eyes and then… without the slightest warning… leaped panther-like across the table knocking the surprised Susan to the rough pine board floor with a crash. Her hands tangled wildly in her hair pulling savagely at it as though her very life depended on it. Susan tried to fight back but it was hopeless. The girl in her insane jealousy possessed the strength of a demon and scratched and bit at the shrieking white girl until Susan thought it would never end. It seemed an eternity but was only an instant until the shouting Duke wrenched the half crazed negress from her and threw her brutally across the room. She landed with a dull thud against the wall and lay sobbing out her misery in a piteous heap on the floor as the enraged Duke stood protectively over the trembling body of Susan ten feet away.

He glared over at the limp and quivering form of the negress as though contemplating the worst of all possible punishments and then snarled to the others so that the sobbing Jodie could hear: "You guys got 'er tonight," he said venomously, and then added, "Stitch, you first."

The light skinned negress' head raised from the floor, tears streaming down her face in utter disbelief. Her mouth gaped open in pain from the blow she had received when she hit the wall and she tried to speak but could only manage a piteous moan.

"B-baby, n-no, please not him, please."

But the combination of the frustration and humiliation Duke had gone through and the rebellion against his authority by her vicious attack on the white girl dulled his sense of mercy and he shouted at the disbelieving Stitch again.

"Fuck 'er you stupid son-uf-a-bitch, she's all yours."

There was no need for a second invitation. The imbecilic negro, spittle running from the corner of his mouth, covered the short distance between him and the prostrate girl with a single leap across the floor and landed heavily on her stomach, crushing the breath from her with a loud "ooomph". She tried to twist beneath him to escape but the suddenness and intensity of the attack was too much for the stunned Jodie and she lay writhing and twisting beneath his already humping body without the slightest chance of escape. Too much had been built up in his frustrated mind to lose the prize that was prostrate and helpless beneath him now. He had missed the white girl when all the others had had her and he had to be satisfied with masturbating over her ravished and beaten body. But now it was different, now he had something that he could vent his long smoldering lust upon. Something that he had always thought untouchable, and that thought incited his vicious attack all the more. It was the leader's girl, the one who had always lorded it over him and teased him in his idiotic ignorance and driven him half insane with her promised touches to his arm or a secret smile that she had given, safe in the knowledge that he would never dare touch her as long as she was Duke's girl.

But now, now it had changed. She was a Sheik's favorite suddenly thrown in anger to the camel drivers whom she had teased and tormented from afar for so long.

Susan watched in terror from the position in which she had fallen from the attack a few moments before. She wanted to cry out and help the girl but could not. It had all happened so suddenly and without warning that she was not really certain what was going on around her. Her mind would not work and she lay frozen, eyes agape at the terrible spectacle transpiring before her horror-stricken face.

The half-crazed Stitch, eyes bulging from uncontrolled animal lust, pulled the negress' half resisting body up to him and slammed his large thick rubbery lips on hers. It was savage and brutal and the tan skinned girl slipped away with the strength of a sudden burst of fear. He slapped her then, his face hard and vicious. The blow landed across her mouth with such force that she fell back to the floor her head hitting with a loud thud that resounded across the room like a cannon shot. Susan thought surely she must be unconscious, but the still struggling girl even then slipped from his grasp and was half-way to her knees before he caught her.

His second blow landed at the side of her head and was with his full balled fist. Her head jolted to the side crazily and she managed a half intelligible plea from between loose half-conscious lips.

"Duke, baby, don't let 'em, don't let 'em do it to me."

Susan looked to him, a silent plea for the negress in her own eyes but it was useless. She had picked the wrong time to question him and her punishment was final. He would not have interfered now even if he had wanted to, it was their law and could not be changed.

Stitch hit her again as the others watched gleefully from the distance of the other side of the room. They knew their turn would come soon with the luscious, haughty bitch who had lived under Duke's protection for so long and they would take their full measure of revenge like so many jackals feasting upon the remains of a once proud but wounded lioness.

Her body was half limp now and Susan watched in stunned horror as the crazed Stitch, frothing at the mouth from his passion began brutally tearing at her clothes. The half insensible girl did not stand a chance as her blouse and bra were brutally ripped from her still struggling body. Her full tan breasts fell free from the tight restricting binding and quivered nakedly in the air. She tried to rise but he smashed her back to the floor again, hooking his fingers in the top of her tight fitting slacks and ripping them down over her wildly thrashing ankles to the floor. Another vicious blow to the face stilled her for a moment and his hands tore the last of her protective clothing, her white nylon panties, from her with a body with a sadistic jerk. She was completely naked now and helpless before the brutal attack and lay almost lifeless beneath the jet black negro, her tan skin contrasting obscenely in the dim flickering light of the fire.

There was no resistance left but the pent-up passion of the dim-witted negro roared on. He rolled her to her stomach flat on the floor and muttering vague and unintelligible obscenities kneaded and tore at the soft yielding flesh of her buttocks, her back, and her thighs, with an insane intensity that brought tears to Susan's gaping eyes.

And then, with a savage jerk of her shoulder, he rolled her over again on her back and forced her legs brutally apart. He kneeled up for a moment between her full coffee colored thighs, dropping his pants to his knees with a quick movement of his hand, and then fell forward crushing her tan body with an animal-like grunt hard down into the floor.

Their feet were facing Susan not more than three feet away and her eyes were centered on the wide split crevice of the helpless girl's vagina, the smooth pink flesh of the stretched opening presenting a quivering and unimpeded target of soft wetness in a sparse forest of jet black pubic hair. Her buttocks were smashed flat to the rough pine-board floor beneath, with his monstrous thick black cock insinuated down between the crevice that split the smooth, full rounded moons. The large oversized, bulbous head touched the floor beneath and Susan was close enough that she could see it was wet and sticky where his seminal fluid had seeped out the narrow opening at the tip in his wild excitement of the rape of the untouchable beauty that had been thrown to him so unexpectedly a few short seconds ago.

He wasted no time with preliminaries and the horrified white girl lying prostrate at the couples feet gasped as she saw the muscles of his ebony buttocks tighten as they lifted high in the air over the up-turned loins of the moaning and pleading negress. It poised at the wet wide stretched opening of her visibly palpitating cunt for what seemed an eternity, and then jerked forward brutally to disappear between the soft, fleshy, down covered folds between her legs with a wet slithering rush that brought a long painful scream from the spread-eagle girl.

"Aaaaaaaaaaghhhhh!"

A chill ran the full length of Susan's spine causing her body to jerk spasmodically on the floor where she had not moved since the negress had smashed her there in her jealous rage a century ago. Her mouth gaped open and her eyes widened, half in revulsion and half in a sudden obscene memory that flooded through her mind without warning. She was standing at the door of her mother's bedroom again and peering in at the horrible lewd spectacle of her fiancee's father spearing into her own shameless mother's hungry nibbling vagina, except this time the broad thick penis pistoning into the wide-spread loins before her eyes was jet black and the buttocks jiggling beneath its vicious attack were young, firm, and tan. But the setting was the same, only this time she was closer and could see with all too vivid clarity the giant cock sink to the hilt and disappear into the pink slit between the cruelly spread thighs, until only a tiny little stretch of it was still visible, black and moistly glistening beneath the huge black balls that dangled sperm-filled and bloated down from the crevice of the negro's ass.

Susan was too horrified to make a sound but moaned beneath her breath as the imbecilic Stitch lay still, soaking the full length of his giant throbbing cock inside the moist softness of the girl's quivering belly for a few tortuous seconds, and then with a deep throated groan born of animal lust began to fuck her savagely with long hard strokes that carried the full monstrous length of his prick. The helplessly impaled mulatto girl groaned and writhed painfully beneath the driving force of the negro's pounding body as he reached down her legs under her knees and pulled up viciously, bending her thighs all the way back to her shoulders to give him greater access to the open wet entrance of her cunt. Jodie choked and sputtered beneath him in agony and the sudden humiliation of being thrown to the gang idiot like this to be used and raped as his dim-witted mind dictated.

A moment ago, she had been a proud and untouchable queen, the girl of the ghetto leader, but now she was just another piece of female flesh that would from now on be passed among them to be fucked and used as each of them in turn would so desire and when they would desire. Her humiliation knew no bounds and she grunted and moaned beneath her wildly pumping attacker as though the world had suddenly ended.

"Duke, baby, noooooo, make him stop. God, make him stop!"

Her face was contorted in pained disbelief at her sudden fall into the depths of gang whoredom from which she could never return. Her long black silky hair flailed from side to side on the rough dirty floor, tiny mewling pleas for mercy and relief from the pain and humiliation rolling from her tortured lips. But Duke ignored her and sat silent. He had spoken and there was no more to be said.

"Ohhhh God, Duke, Duke, stop him, stop him," she moaned on as the black glistening body between her legs began to fuck into her with greater and greater desperation.

"Shut up," Duke finally snarled dowel at her twisting and struggling form. "Let 'em fuck ya."

"Nooooo, noooo," she screamed, hearing his words above the wildly panting mouth at her ear. "Not this idiot, not this idiot."

But her pleas and shouts were suddenly cut brutally short by a hand smashing across her face as Stitch heard through his inflamed passion the insults leaping from her lips. He crushed this thick rubbery mouth tight down over hers drowning out with a wet slobbering finality the further screams building in her throat. He dug his fingers cruelly and hard into the firm large mounds of her breasts and Susan thought surely he was going to kill the girl from the back breaking position into which he was forcing her with greater and greater strength.

She was bent nearly double now, with her knees scraping painfully into the roughness of the floor back over shoulders. His long thick cock pistoned like a log into the ever expanding softness of her cunt and Susan could hear the harsh slap of his sperm inflated balls beating a lewd and orgasm building rhythm against the tight tiny anus nestled in the crevice below her filled and battered vagina. She tried to close the sound from her ears but it would not go. She tried to close her eyes and shut off the sight of the horrible ravishment taking place so close in front of her but they flickered open again involuntarily hypnotized by the bestial assault.

The demented negro began to go wild now with passion and sadistic delight at the same time. He twisted and turned her body beneath him like a limp rag-doll as he fucked into her with ever increasing speed and vigor, smashing the softness of her naked and open body hard down into the rough dirty boards of the floor until Susan thought he would drive her completely through it. His hands pinched and pulled at her as she twisted and squirmed to escape the pain. His face above her was contorted into a wild mask of sadistic lust as his cock battered into her machine gun like, expanding and growing to ever horrifying proportions before the bulging eyes of the cringing white girl peering up between his legs at the rigid column of wet, pistoning black flesh.

Susan held her breath and gasped as she watched the tiny folds of pink flesh of the squirming Jodie's vagina withdrawing and sinking wetly back inside again with each brutal thrust the crazed negro made into her.

And then, her heart suddenly stopped, as she heard a low animal-like groan suddenly erupt from deep in the throat of the pumping Stitch and his rigid black pole of flesh skewing madly into the helpless girl beneath him began throbbing out its lewd hot liquid deep inside her quivering cunt.

Susan could see it jerking forward and tunnel its way as deep inside the moaning and pleading Jodie as it could go to plant its sperm deep, deep up inside her. She could see the obscene white liquid of his pent-up passion bubbling up and overflowing out around his tightly sheathed cock and down the wide-spread crevice of Jodie's buttocks.

Her legs kicked out helplessly in the air on either side of him and fell limply to the floor. It was over and there was no more reason to resist. It had been done and nothing could take it back. The exhausted Stitch lay collapsed heavily for a moment across her unresisting body, soaking his slowly deflating penis in the liquid depths of her cunt that he had filled completely a moment before. And then he slowly rose to his feet, pulling his pants up and buckling them as he did. His eyes were still locked on the tan Goddess lying limply on the floor and they reflected the disbelief that still lingered that such a prize had been thrown to him so quickly and without warning. One moment she had been untouchable, and the next she was lying beneath his pounding hips with her legs split wide apart like any other piece of tail he had ever had, except infinitely better.

Jodie lay exactly as he had left her. Not caring about a thing. Her world had been destroyed in that sudden rush of decision by Duke to throw her to the others. Nothing mattered anymore and she lay with her legs wide apart and the raw pink crevice between her thighs open and her body naked to the eyes of all surrounding her in the dim light of the room. Susan could see the contempt on Duke's face as he calmly watched the battered and used body of the girl he had protected and called his own until a few moments before. There was no compassion in his eyes now and Susan sensed that tonight he was destroying all that he was leaving behind before he began the horrible holocaust that would result from his actions tomorrow in the ghetto. He had changed in the last hours since the meeting with the well educated and smooth talking negro who had made him look such a fool in the eyes of his own companions and Susan found her self no longer able to judge him as she had before. She knew he was going to demand things from her and she had prepared herself for that knowing that she had no choice other than to submit again to the others as she had last night. But now, now she was frightened more of him in the state of mind he was in at this moment. There was no telling what he would do to her in his sudden anger with the world.

There was a groan from the floor.

The naked tan body had moved and seemed to come back to life. Her head was raised from the floor and she was looking at the drunken Duke sitting in his chair at the table with hate filled eyes. Her mouth was contorted in an animalistic snarl that reeked of cold contempt.

"You weak-livered son-of-bitch," she spat up at him in her anguish. "You want that honky, you take that honky. But I'm gonna get her. I'm gonna make her pay like she ain't never paid before."

She lay for a second longer staling coldly through the distance that separated them and then slowly lifted herself from the floor. It was then that Susan could see how beautifully built the girl really was. It was a strong animal kind of body whose tight muscles rippled faintly under the thin tan skin that those of her kind always have and yet did not destroy the illusion of a perfect and soft femininity that appeared as though it would break if touched too hard. She was lithe and strong like a cat and had full ripe breasts that protruded out from her chest like two ripe succulent cantaloupes. Her waist was narrow and flowered out below to full boned hips that coupled with the firm, full roundness of her well formed thighs presented the most delectable picture of animal sensuality that Susan had ever seen. Her black flashing eyes added to the mysterious beauty she possessed but their hatred and the horrible threats spewing from her venom-filled mouth sent a cold chill of foreboding rippling through Susan's body. She knew the girl in her wild uncontrolled anger would go to any lengths to take her revenge on her if she got the slightest opportunity and her sole chance of survive all revolved back to Duke again. She had to stick to him at all costs now as her very life would be in danger if the fallen and humiliated negress ever got her under her control for even a second.

Involuntarily she found her hand snaking across the floor by her side and closing over the sitting Duke's ankle. Her fingers closed around it in a silent prayer for protection from the hate-filled eyes of the dethroned negress glaring at her. There was no one else to turn to, she had to hang on to him no matter what kind of humiliation and degradation she would be exposed to. He was the only one with the strength and power to save her now.

Duke smiled to himself through the haze of the alcohol as he felt the sudden pressure against the sides of his ankle. He knew instinctively what it took to bring a girl to her knees whether they were white or black. They were all the same and give them a little competition mixed with fear and they would come around. He had done this before between girls of his own kind and it had never failed. The anger of the one losing favor with the leader always drove the other into a dependency on him that she could not control.

And now it had worked again.

The little white bitch was groveling at his feet out of sheer terror of what would happen to her if he let the vanquished negress get at her. He would enjoy her tonight. Yes, he would take all she had to give and then some. After all, she was one of them who put him in the position he was in today. She was a honky and he kept telling himself he shouldn't forget that in spite of the softness he felt toward her. She was the enemy against which he would be going to war tomorrow and he couldn't let emotion interfere. But, even as the thoughts ran through his mind, he knew emotion would enter into it. She evoked a certain gentleness in him that he had never really felt before and he couldn't quite understand it. There had never been room in his life for this kind of weakness and he found it disconcerting to him. It had almost torn him apart last night when he had lain in the bed in the other room and listened to her piteous cries and squeals as his companions had fucked her until she couldn't walk but he had dared not interfere. He had lost her for that night in a game of his own choosing and the tight knit honor code that bound him and the others together would not permit him to refuse the stakes he had lost. But, he would not make that mistake again. She was his now for as long as he could keep her here. Jodie could keep the others happy for awhile and he would not have to worry about them. He was certain they had been looking forward to it for a long time the way she had teased them and all. They would be happy to really put it to her for a change. He knew they wouldn't be easy on her but it didn't really matter now. Nothing mattered anymore with what he had to do tomorrow. He was starting a war that would not end for years to come and was certain to lead to the total destruction of his people. The honkies weren't going to stand by and see Chicago, New York, and all the other big cities burned to the ground without getting mad and killing somebody. And… the thing that angered him most was the smooth talking bastard who had planned out the whole thing would be off safe in Detroit or somewhere where the action wasn't taking place. It was the people like himself that were going to die. Those that were too stupid to do anything else but be down where all the fire was going to be. He felt as though he were being used as he had never been used before in his life and also knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. A guy had to know about laws and going down to Cuba and places like that to get money and how to make speeches to get people angry so they would fight and die for something they were going to get anyway if they just waited a little while longer. He could do none of these things and he knew it. He could set up a heist on a corner grocery store or a parked beer truck and he could use a shive like no one else, but, that was all he could do. His usefulness in this new world had almost ended. Tomorrow would be his final act and he would be doing the only thing he knew how to do well.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the tightening of the white girl's hand around his ankle on the floor. He looked up and could see the snarling face of the half crouched Jodie glaring through the distance over at her. She was ready to spring again at the cringing Susan though her legs were wobbly and the strength was almost gone from her body from the vicious screw she had just been given by the demented Stitch.

Duke spoke quickly.

"Git 'er, Shorty, fast," he commanded.

There was no hesitation and Shorty's body hurtled instantaneously across the room, intercepting the angered negress before she left her feet. They landed in an entangled heap in the center of the room with a loud crash. There was another "Oooomph" from the pain-wracked lips of Jodie as Shorty's full weight came dowel directly on top of her naked body. She jerked for a moment beneath him and then lay limp, totally devoid of all strength and power to resist.

He sat up on top of her, an expectant grin playing lewdly across his fat thick lips. He too had waited a long time until Duke tired of this haughty little bitch and threw her open to the others. She had swished her teasing little ass around too much showing them what she had and knowing full well she wouldn't have to pass it around. Well, by God, now she'd get hers. He had often thought of those tight little well formed tan lips closing over the head of his long black cock and what a picture it would make.

Well, now he was going to see. He was going to make her suck him until she made him cum like a bull in that proud little mouth that had been too good for him and the others while Duke was protecting her. He felt a sudden jerk beneath his pants as he visualized her swallowing his hot warm load as he spewed it all the way down her throat. He reached down and ran his hands greedily over her neck, feeling the smooth tight hollows giving before the slight pressure he exerted. He circled his thumbs up over the full sensuous lips and pushed them gently apart to see the pink moist flesh of her tongue that would soon be circling around the hardness of his throbbing black penis like that of a coiling cobra.

Susan could see his eyes burning in a lewd reflection of lust that again made her body tremble for the safety of the poor girl trapped beneath the weight of his thighs. She knew she should be grateful for the attack she had just been saved from but her mind would just not accept the horrible and crude thought of what was about to happen to the negro girl again. Her civilized training repelled the thought even though she was an avowed enemy that would have no more mercy upon her than a hungry she-wolf if she ever got her under her control.

"Now, baby," she heard Shorty chuckle evilly down into the prostrate Jodie's face. "You and me gonna play games like you ain't nevah played before."

The limp body of the negress shuddered even as she lay limp beneath him. There was a certain horrified acceptance in her face because she knew there was no hope whatever of escape from the hopeless position she was in. Besides she had already been humiliated and defiled by the gang idiot to the point where nothing else mattered much. It could never be as bad as it had when she had to lay there and let him pump his lewd sperm deep up in her belly just like any common street whore that he had bought for a dollar down in the ghetto.

No… further resistance was useless. She had lost her protector and perhaps it was better to please as best she could to get them on her side for the revenge that she vowed to herself was going to follow.

She had to get that little white bitch if it was the last thing she ever did in the world. She was the one who had toppled her position as queen of the gang and made her end up as being nothing more than a sadistic screw for those members of the gang that had been so inferior to her before and would never have dared touch her if the white bitch had not taken Duke from her.

Yes, she would give it to them, all they wanted and how they wanted it, but she would take her revenge when she got the chance she knew was bound to come if she waited long enough. She would make the sweet little honky wench suffer as she was suffering now and know the indignities she was going through. There would be no mercy when her turn came and she would make certain she got it good, good and hard, right up to her white little tits.

"You better be good, Jodie," Shorty was sneering above her. "You bin a hot little pants jist waitin' for me, ain'cha?"

She glowered up at him with eyes of contempt and he reached down behind him and put his hands backwards between her thighs and forced them slowly apart. She let herself go, opening her legs before his harsh pressure and gritting her teeth trying to hold back the scream of revulsion building within her. He ran the tip of his finger up the slit of her vagina, still moist from the fucking Stitch had given to her a short while ago. She just lay still and let him do it to her.

"You ain't fightin' no more, baby," he leered down at her. "Ole Shorty gittin' to ya?"

The negress closed her eyes from the pressure against the sensitive lips of her cunt and her face was impassive as though she wished she were dead at this very moment. The negro sitting across her naked stomach ran his hands gently, almost reverently over her hips and belly and then suddenly lost control and squeezed them with a cruel hard force that brought a sudden squeal from her lips.

"Man, I never expected to git any o' this so soon," he grinned down at her nakedness beneath him. "But I ain't gonna fuck ya where Stitch done shot into ya. Baby, you gonna suck me till it runs outta ya ears."

His head dropped suddenly and he bit hard into the round softness of her breast. His teeth sunk cruelly into her firm flesh making her jerk and squeal again. He laughed at her sudden pain and moved his mouth down over the smooth flatness of her belly biting into the softness of her skin all along the way.

Susan watched with a vague detachment now. She had felt horror for so long that it was no longer horror and there was nothing she could do but lay still and watch.

The negress was squirming in earnest now attempting to escape the sharp nipping teeth biting into her. She pushed at the muscular negro's head with all her remaining strength but it was useless. He, like the imbecilic Stitch, had waited too long and the prize of taking this haughty young bitch wasn't going to pass through his hands now.

He leaned up above her and looked down again at her naked flesh stretched beneath. His hands ran up over the narrowness of her waist and massaged at the firmness of her breasts again. It was obvious he was enjoying her torment beneath him and was delaying the final moment as long as he could hold out. He leaned back on his haunches and looked up and down the length of her tan body again. A slight gasp came from his lips as the full lovely symmetry registered in his gaping eyes. It reminded him, on a slightly slimmer and more muscular scale, of the white girl he had had with Coke last night except that Coke had got the sucking then. Now it was his turn to sink it between a set of warm soft lips and blow his balls deep down in her throat. This one would be particularly satisfying, he thought as he felt a hollow longing feeling begin deep in his testicles.

Jodie lay limp now that his teeth were no longer tearing into her flesh. There was a look of resignation on her face that indicated she had resigned herself to accepting the degradations he was about to subject her body to. She hardly knew he was there now and the only thoughts that ran through her mind were of what she would do to the little white honky bitch that had gotten her into this degrading situation. Her lips curled at the corners of her mouth and a grim animal hatred registered in her eyes as the thoughts raced through her mind faster and faster. There was nothing that would be too good for the white bitch and she would make certain with all her being that she suffered like she had never suffered before.

Shorty stood up and began stripping the clothes from his short ape-like body.

"Baby, this is gonna take a long time," he smiled arrogantly down at her. "So you jist relax and enjoy it."

He was naked now and stood above her with his long black cock standing straight out from his belly.

"Git up," he suddenly growled at her. "I wanna see what ole Duke's been gittin' all this time before I mess it all up."

The negress rose shakily to her feet without hesitation. She knew better than to fight now, that would come later when she was ill a better position. Revenge against the white girl thundered through her mind as the short stocky negro turned her around and around pinching here and there at particularly sensitive spots on her body and bringing slight winces of pain from her lips. His mouth and eyes gloated lustfully on the provocative curves that had taunted him for so long and now were within his grasp.

He reached out with his arm and pulled her to him running his hands down over the full firmness of her breasts, up and down the sides of her waist and full flaring hips, over her rounded ass and thighs until he could stand his own sadistic teasing no longer.

His hands reached up and tangled cruelly in her black silken hair and he forced her protestingly down on her knees in front of him. Her face was held directly in front of the long rigid cock cleaving out from has belly. There was a strained grimace on her face and her eyes were open wide as she saw it slowly moving under the tip of her nose toward her lips. The short squat negro grinned like an evil devil above her and rubbed the warm moist head stickily around the sides of face and cheeks as he maintained the steel tight grip in her hair with his straining hands.

Susan watched the girl's proud black eyes that had flashed in strength and anger such a short time ago close in bitter humiliated subjugation as she felt the obscene, sticky prick rubbing over the softness of her facial flesh.

"Open your mouth," the negro hissed down at her. She hesitated for a moment and he jerked his hands in her hair causing a short gasp of pain to slip from lips.

He pressed forward as they opened to emit a soulful cry and brushed the head gently back and forth against their wet lip-stick covered softness. She started to cry again but it came out muffled and low as he pushed the sound back down her throat with the throbbing head of his cock.

"Now suck on it, ya bitch," he gloated from above the top of her head. "Git with it and suck, baby. Them lil lips of yours ain't too good for it any more."

His hands tightened in her hair again and his lips bared back over the whiteness of his teeth as he pulled her face slowly forward, sliding the warm moist flesh of her saliva filled mouth over his throbbing cock.

"Suck," he hissed again, warning this time in his voice.

Her lips began to nibble slightly on it from fear of the pain that would come if they did not. Susan could see the sudden change in the snarling black face standing over the kneeling girl as he felt the first moist suction begin around his rapidly growing prick. His eyes bulged down as he watched the now subjugated girl's working mouth hollowing around his long black column protruding into it. Susan trembled again as she remembered through her tortured mind the long black instrument that had spewed its hot lewd sperm into her own tortured mouth last night and found herself moaning again under her breath in sympathy with the negress kneeling like a slave now before the dark undulating hips of the squat muscular negro.

He ripped at her hair again.

"Suck it harder, baby," he commanded with a deep throated growl. "Put some skin around it."

Her tongue tangled around him bringing another deep throated groan from his lips. The girl began to work now as though she enjoyed it and her tongue, lips, and teeth all pressed close and moist around him until Susan could see his shining black buttocks tense together as he jerked forward deeper into the warm soft cavern of the girl's hot moist mouth.

"Oooooohhh, baby, that's it, baby. Suck it, suck it," he chanted above her bobbing head as she let herself go completely to end it as soon as she could.

His hands snaked around the sides of her head now, stroking at the soft black silkiness of her hair and pulling and teasing at the lobes of her ears. His hips jerked back and forth wildly before her now uninhibited attack on his genitals and he moaned and muttered obscene filthy phrases down at her at the same time, making her move faster with his hands.

Susan watched helplessly, her hand tightening around Duke's ankle in a silent prayer for protection from the horrible things that could happen to her if the other three negroes were to get their hands on her again. Terrible and sickening memories of the things they had done to her helpless and open body last night flickered through her mind in an unending train of obscene pictures of what her own full white body must have looked like as she had been buffeted between the short squat, Shorty, now fucking the kneeling negress in the mouth, and the lean muscular Coke who was leaning against the wall stroking his hardened penis in his hands as he excitedly waited his turn with the proud, fallen queen of the gang. She found herself even longing for the moment she knew would come when he would take her from the room and begin doing those horrible things to her that all the others were waiting there turn for on the helpless Jodie. At least, it would get her out of this terrible room and away from the lewd licentious scene transpiring now before her. She didn't know if she could take much more of it without becoming sick. Anything would be better than this, even submitting to Duke.

There was another groan from the ecstatic face of the squat negro as the kneeling tan girl sucked at his cock like a hungry calf feeding from a mother cow. The smooth hard texture filled her mouth to the bursting point as it expanded with each passing thrust into her warm wet cavern but she tried not think about that. She concentrated on the punishment she would mete out later when her chance came with the honky girl. Lewd and bizarre punishments ran through her mind at a rapid pace and it was only when the humping negro screwing her in the mouth would give an extra hard tug on her hair that her thoughts would return to the subservient task she was performing.

He kept skewering further and further into her mouth so that she could feel the hard rubbery tip of the head of his cock grazing smoothly against the back of her throat. Her mouth was filled with warm moist saliva and made a smooth hot sheath around the monstrous instrument as it pummeled faster and faster into her face. His huge black balls beat a steady rhythm of lust and passion against the tip of her chin and she could feel him all wet there where some of the saliva in her totally filled mouth had drooled down from her lips and moistened the whole of her lower face.

The ape-like Shorty was looking down at her now with a lust contorted face that glistened of savage desire as he felt her begin to suck him with a moist, nibbling, sucking motion as he crushed his sweating loins at her face and ground his fingers cruelly into the side of her head. He wanted this proud little bitch that had been putting them all on for so long to swallow it when he squirted his hot load in her mouth. He wanted to debase her completely for all the times he had wanted her and yet not dared touch her for fear of Duke's anger.

But now, now he had her where he had always wanted her and would bend her to his complete will if it was the last thing he ever did. In fact, it was even sweeter than he ever expected it could be because the fallen queen knew that Duke was watching her every move as she was forced to lick and suck like a common whore and that must have increased her humiliation and hurt no end. He crooned on his obscenities down at the top of her now wildly bobbing head as he watched with gleaming eyes the black flesh of his cock disappear into the tight oval hole formed by her full wide stretched lips and saw them clasping around it wetly like the lips of a vagina.

Her eyes were closed tight now in her shame and humiliation and his lunging cock felt as though it were being tormented by a thousand tiny needle-sharp pins stinging into it like a pin-cushion. There was a rush in his brain that sounded like the roar of a hundred waterfalls and he knew he could hold back no longer.

It had to be now!

He thrust his thick, glistening cock deep into her mouth and arched his pelvis forward toward her face, pressing at the same time against her cheeks with the tips of his fingers so that her mouth was tighter around it and he could feel the full force of it and expanding in the softness between her tongue and the roof of her mouth until a thousand electric sensations seemed to be pressing in on him all at once. He gripped her head between his hands with a savage jungle scream, feeling all his passion rushing from the warm haven of his testicles to the bloated head of his cock and rammed it deep with all his lust inspired power far into her throat.

She choked and sputtered for a single, long held minute, and then, he emitted a coarse, deep-throated moan and his hot sticky sperm shot in a thick warm jet deep into the confines of her open, sucking mouth. He held her head in front of him with a strong vice-like grip until he had emptied himself completely into the once proud queen's sperm filled mouth and then sank helplessly back onto the floor behind him.

His soft deflated cock slipped with a wet sucking noise from between her cum covered lips, a thin string-like trickle of white still connecting them together. The hollows of her throat worked for long moments afterwards, swallowing in great gulps the liquid white fluid he had creamed into her throat.

Susan's horrified mind was jerked suddenly from the lewd, obscene sight of the negro cumming into the helpless girl's mouth by a pair of hands that had reached under her armpits and were suddenly lifting her from the floor where she lay. She was half aware of being dragged across the rough pine board floor toward the bedroom where her dimly aware mind knew it was her turn to be fucked again into insensibility as she had been last night on the bed in the filthy unkempt bed in the corner. She started to scream but it was choked deep down inside her chest by the sudden realization that if she did it would only make matters worse. She half struggled to her feet to ease the pain of her legs scraping against the floor and half walked, half staggered, in the arms of the drunken now lust incited Duke to the bed where she knew she must pay her ticket to safety from the other two negroes who were even now lifting the prostrate form of the used and humiliated Jodie to the bed for further and even more obscene acts of sexual depravity.

CHAPTER FOUR

Susan dimly heard the door shut behind them as Duke kicked it shut with his foot. It didn't stay completely closed but swung open slightly so that it didn't shut away the piteous moaning sounds of the distraught Jodie being assaulted again on the bed where Susan, herself, had been so bitterly humiliated last night. She wanted to cry out and plead with him to shut the door to take her mind from what was happening to the poor negro girl and what was about to happen to her. But she dared not make a sound now as the tone of the negro leader's mood had changed and she was frightened of what he might do if she uttered the slightest protest.

He pulled her toward the bed against the wall and let her drop face down across it. She hadn't the strength or sense of will to move and listened as though in a trance as she heard him stripping the clothing from his dark, muscular body and drop them heavily to the floor. The heavy metallic belt buckle hit with an incongruous thud that caused her to jump slightly from the surprise of the sudden, coarse sound. Then there was silence, except for the occasional male grunts of passion mixed with whimpering feminine protests coming through the door from the other room.

Susan tensed her body and waited for the touch of his hands on her back but there was none. Instead, he stood for a long moment looking down at her in the dim light from the candle he had lit before removing his clothes. She didn't have to turn her head to know he was studying her as she could almost feel the hot trails of desire and admiration his eyes left behind them as they roved over her reclining form.

"You're pretty," she suddenly heard through the screams coming from the other room and her first reaction was to turn her head and see where the strange, suddenly tender, voice came from. It was Duke as she could see no one else through the hazy blurred vision of her straining eyes. But it was a Duke that she did not recognize from the tenderness with which he spoke. The very softness of his voice sheared the harsh ghetto accent away and made him something else, something human that she had mysteriously felt in him but had not seen until this instant. It unsettled her and yet confused her thoughts. She had considered them nothing but a bunch of wild animals that roamed the streets taking what they wanted by virtue of their strength alone just as they had abducted her and used her as they wished. But now with the sudden tenderness of the leader, whom she had feared most of all because of his power of life or death over her, she was no longer certain.

"I hope they didn't hurt 'cha," he spoke again, making no move to approach the bed even though he had prepared himself to take her.

"No, no they didn't," she found herself saying without thinking about it, then realizing it was the first time she had spoken voluntarily except to plead for herself since she had become their captive.

She felt the bed give beneath his weight as he sat down beside her when he heard her speak. She cringed away from his nakedness from habit though she was not as frightened by it as she had been in the beginning. There was really nothing more for her to fear except death itself. They had done everything to her that was imaginable and she was not so certain that perhaps death now wouldn't be preferable to facing the world again after the brutal and sadistic sexual depravities she had been subjected to since being taken from the street last night. Yes, she thought, death would be preferable if it did not involve pain because she could not stand that and knew she could be bent to their will with it anytime as she had been last night by the brutal beating she had received with the leather belt.

His hand came to rest softly on her back and surprisingly to her, her body did not jerk automatically away. She had been so beaten and abused in the last twenty four hours that she supposed nothing could really move her now unless it were being thrown to the others to use as an obscene plaything as before. Yes, she was much better off with Duke than the poor Jodie, whose pleas for mercy from the other room had now changed to soft helpless groans of outrage at the indecencies being committed on her helpless body. Susan found herself wondering what they were doing to her now and shuddered as she pictured all three of them hovering over the prostrate girl's form on the bed, each pleasing themselves in a different way as they had done with her last night.

Duke's hand moved slowly on her back, mistaking her slight tremble from the lewd picture that had formed in her mind, for the beginning of surrender. The half drunken negro was right. The girl had surrendered but not for the reason he so much wanted her too. The will to resist had been totally destroyed because there was nothing else he could do to her that had not already been done. She could stand the threat of sudden pain no more and her fatigue-wracked body was almost beyond feeling anything but the desire for the peace from which it had been so cruelly disturbed when it had been thrown into the car by the gang of negroes so long, long ago. She was his, both mind and body now and the tenderness with which he touched her helped quiet her fears of further pain so that she lay and let him play with her as he wished.

The negro, sobering slightly from the sight of the voluptuous young white girl stretched languidly on the bed beside him, gazed down at her with an almost religious reverence. He would have given anything in the world at that moment if he could have possessed something like her under different circumstances. The whiteness of her skin made no difference but it was what she stood for. She was clean, innocent, and untouched, except for the rape she had been subjected to by force and that didn't count. And even now he would have given anything if it hadn't happened and things could have been different and he had been born in another world. He might have had her then, or at least one like her, that he could have won on his own merits the way a woman should be won. Now, with tomorrow so close and the job he had committed himself to do, he knew it could never happen. Particularly, after today when he had gotten a glimpse of what the new an black world run by the new breed held in store for him. That is, if he even lived through tomorrow. A lot of people were going to die and he knew it. People he had grown up with and known all his life, perhaps even one of his younger brothers or sisters who would undoubtedly wander down to see the excitement.

And… there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop it now. It had smoldered too long and he and the others like him were too stupid to fight any other way. They had never been taught otherwise like the new breed and had no choice but to follow them into the sea like the children of Hamlin dancing blindly behind the Pied Piper.

He wished, also, with all his heart he could explain this to the white girl who might understand better why he needed her so much tonight. But, he knew he couldn't. They were a complete world apart and he could never put the words together that could even begin to describe how he felt. She would have to go on forever believing he was just an inhuman black brute because he didn't have at this moment, the time or words to convince her otherwise.

Time had just run out on everything.

Susan felt her body begin to shiver as his hands moved down over her soft round buttocks and began pushing the hem of her tattered and dirty dress up the backs of her thighs. She could hear him breathing heavily behind her and wanted to turn and look at his face to see if it reflected the sudden gentility with which his hands moved but she didn't dare. She was afraid it would end suddenly and he would without warning again erupt into the violence he had the first time he had taken her in the car. He nudged her hips up from the bed and she lifted without resistance to the gentle pressure to allow him to slip the silken garment up the full length of her body and over her head.

"Oooooh," she murmured as he ran his hands in a long slow caress back down her back again and unhooked the brassiere that fell away without effort as she lifted for him to pull it from beneath her chest. Her breasts trembled and hardened slightly as they made naked contact with the unwashed sheet beneath them and she groaned again, not from pain but from some new alien tingle that began throbbing gently inside her flesh.

His hands came down her back again and he hooked his fingers in the elastic band at the top of what was left of her nylon panties and gently pushed and pulled until they slipped reluctantly down over the full voluptuous moons of her buttocks and hips. They stuck momentarily at her thighs and she shook them slightly to help him and they slipped on down to her ankles and over her self-raised feet without further resistance.

She was naked now before the negro but felt no intense fear. She had come to trust him in the last few minutes and sensed that he would not hurt her intentionally. In fact, the thought ran hazily through her mind, that he probably would stop if she pleaded with him. But, she had no intention of doing that now. He had saved her from another horrible evening at the hands of the other three depraved men and the venomous anger of the negress and she sensed that it had not been totally through desire for her alone, but from a strange compassion that had arisen in him for her as a human being. She knew because his hands playing over the softness of her now quivering flesh were asking, not demanding.

And, there was no other way she had to repay him.

He sensed too that there had been a change in the white girl. She no longer cringed beneath his touch as she had done in the car or when she had sat next to him at the table. She did not even press to him desperately as she had when she had grasped his ankle for protection on the floor in the other room. Now, to his amazement, she seemed to desire it. Her body strained and worked with his hands as they coursed over her. He rubbed her buttocks in small tiny circles, gently pressing apart the two full white moons so that he could see the tiny puckered brown hole of her anus nestled there so open and vulnerable. He thought of bending over and kissing it but decided against it. He did not want to do anything that would raise her guard and perhaps snap her from the relaxed mood she was in at this moment. He cupped the firm full cheeks of her ass again and then slid his fingers slowly down them and into the crease caused by the pressure of her thighs lying so close together.

He expected them to clench tightly shut as he pressured gently down between them with his hand but was surprised when they fell limply open without resistance of any kind. He pushed his hand up between their full satin-like softness until his fingers came into sudden wet contact with the soft down of the thin blond pubic hair growing tantalizingly up between her legs. He tried to press his finger up between the soft moist flanges of her vagina but she jerked spasmodically away, not from fear or revulsion, but from the unexpected contact that sent a shiver of warm rippling sensation running up the nerves of her naked back.

She groaned, vaguely aware of his hands turning her body on the bed so that she was flat on her back and the whole of her naked front was presented up to him in a delicious photograph of hollows and secret indentations.

She was just as he remembered her last night when he had made her stand naked before the fire and had taunted the others with the prize he possessed, a taunt he lived to regret an hour later when the cards had gone against him and he had lost her to them. Yes, she was just as she was then, firm and young, and her body shook as though filled with passion.

He kneeled beside running his hands reverently over her breasts, her flat white belly, her thighs, up and down over her unprotected nudity with shaking hands that brought forth small animal mewls of pleasure from between her tightly closed teeth. His passion was increased as he watched the contrast of his ebony dark hands moving over and bringing the gasping and quivering response from the white, white of her body.

He watched her open her eyes and look up at him for a moment, the hazel-blueness shadowed by the dim smoky veil of building passion that was beginning to course through her.

Susan, somewhere back in the distant ages since his hands had reached for her body, had drifted into a strange unknown world of sudden deep, soft pleasure of the flesh. She had lain beneath his hands at first in fear, then in grim realization that she had a debt to pay. Now… all conscious thought of why she was here or who her slowly flaming body was writhing beneath was lost in her memory. It no longer mattered as she felt the tiny licking flames running all around her, between the softness of her inner thighs, out the tips of her now throbbing and pebble-hard nipples, and down again to the burning core of her vagina where it roared in white hot heat like the interior of a blast furnace.

"Oh God," her voice whispered softly without even knowing it had been said. "Oh God."

He pressed his thick rubbery lips down over hers and immediately felt the hard rigid pressure of her tongue spearing up into his mouth in her unconscious quest for a warmer, wetter contact with the devil-like thing so deliciously torturing her body.

His hands continued rummaging over her and he ran them between her thighs which did not jerk away this time but which opened voluntarily to admit him to the very core of her being. He could feel the warm center of her loins flexing almost imperceptibly in passionate answer to his naked touch.

"Aaaah, aaaaah," she was sighing continuously up into his lips, her tongue pushed up into his and circling deep around inside as though searching desperately for another entrance to his mouth.

Her passion spurred his own. Disbelief buzzing through his brain that this could be happening. Last night in the car he had brutally ripped this voluptuous white girl's virginity from between her legs in a brutal rape and yet tonight she was writhing and twisting beneath him as though she were his slave.

He could not stand it another minute and he moved over, slithering on top of her warm, soft, white body like a protective blanket. He could feel it quivering helplessly out of control under him and reached down his sides with both hands and drew her unresisting thighs up the sides of hips until the whole of her wet, throbbing vaginal slit was presented up to him in welcome sacrifice. He held them there for a long tortured moment and started to reach down and implant himself inside her but at the last second he stopped.

He wanted her total surrender tonight and it would be worth the risk of breaking the spell she was under now. It would make it all a thousand times more meaningful if she were to take him to her. He held his breath and spoke in a whisper.

"Put it in."

And he let his breath slowly out in a long gasp of relief as he felt her hand burrowing down without hesitation between them and her warm fingers close tightly around his rigid flesh. She stilled for a moment and he held his breath again in fear she would suddenly regain her senses and twist away from him. It was a long, long second later that he breathed out again in relief as he felt her thumb and forefinger tighten around the head of his pulsating penis and slowly but firmly push up. He gasped, and his lips bared back torturously over his white, ivory-like teeth as the thick black, foreskin peeled back up and she gently pressed the moist sensitive tip of his cock into the wet, fleshy folds of her vagina. He could feel the soft blond pubic hair grazing gently against it as it hung poised for entry between the tight, throbbing lips. The hot, smooth warmth was excruciating and it was all he could do to hold himself back from lunging forward to sink the whole of the heavy pulsating weight hanging down between his legs with one mighty flesh splitting thrust into the helplessly impassioned white girl's quivering and waiting belly.

But he waited.

He waited because she needed it and that's what he had wanted from her even though it tortured him beyond his wildest imagination and because he knew he had conquered her soul and she was completely at the mercy of his desires at this moment. The chance may never come again and he tortured himself, holding back the final plunge that would fuse them together in one great wet, pulsating mass of black and white flesh, to wring from her that one final admission of surrender that would bond them together as long as she lived.

But she had to know it, she had to be conscious of it or it would mean nothing at all. She had to remember that she had done it, and done it because she had desired it more than pride itself. He would be leaving this world tomorrow. He could feel it because after today he had no place to go but he wanted to leave something behind that would make him live and that something would be forever sunk deep in her belly and no matter what she did from that moment on, no matter how many times after wards she was fucked, his cock would always be there with the others. She would remember and that would make him alive again but she just had to know it, she had to feel it within every pore in her body when he gave it to her and there was only one way.

Susan lay groaning in tiny unintelligible gasps that seeped from between her tightly gnashed teeth like quick puffs of steam from a laboring locomotive making it's way up a steep and unclimbable incline. Her body ached and she was vaguely aware of a great black form hovering over her. Her legs and loins were wide apart and wet from a strange and delicious soft pressure that she herself remembered vaguely placing there an eternity ago and she hungered. Hungered deep inside her contracting womb as though it were a ravenous animal in a zoo waiting to be fed. Other animals were being fed and she could hear their cries of hungry feast in the distance, merged with the tortured squeak of rusty and ancient bedsprings in an adjacent room. Dim pictures of a tan, tortured form that she had seen ages ago, being crushed and mutilated beyond all recognition between black sweating bodies of ebony flickered through her hazy mind increasing the intensity of the weird pleasurable hunger a thousand times more than when it started.

The negro levered up on his hands into a push-up position above the slowly, undulating body of the white girl. Her face was contorted in indescribable rapture and her lips were pursed in a wet rounded oval shaped with tiny wisping groans of half-conscious pleasure escaping from around the soft pinkness of her tongue circling moistly around the outside of her mouth. He looked down between the contrasting color of their bodies and could see his giant throbbing hardness pressed blackly into the liquid saturated folds of her pink and open cunt. The silken softness of her pubic hair surrounded the stump-like pole of flesh in a lust-inciting mixture of blond against glistening black that caused his cock to throb involuntarily against her.

"Ooooooooh," she groaned unconsciously as she felt the wet, moist contact grow closer.

He strained for all he was worth against the all consuming desire to ram forward at that very moment and impale her instantaneously like a ravished white Goddess on a stake. There was too much of her that he had not tasted and he wanted it all. He would never have the chance again.

He looked down at her large firm titties swaying out gently towards her ribs and quivering slightly with each soulful gasp that came from her mewling throat. They excited him and he had to have them in some way. He slithered forward up her chest and straddled her with one leg on either side of her ribs and gently placed his throbbing black cock in the narrow cleft between them so that her warm flesh enclosed it on both sides.

Her eyes opened momentarily but flickered shut again quickly as though she too were afraid of the strange spell that hung over the room. Her mouth still hung open crooning softly into the dim light the candle cast.

Duke's hands shook and he reached down and crushed the soft resilient mounds between his strong, sinewy fingers, making tiny ridges of white that stood up between their blackness like the whiteness of a moon in the dark sky. He kneaded and stretched at them watching them ooze through his hands like firm, flaccid foam rubber, soft, yet springing back into voluptuous shape the moment his pressure lifted. He pushed them together so that they met across her body and formed a velvety, yielding tunnel in which his cock was sensuously entrapped. He pressed them hard so that the nipples met at the top and then began a gentle rocking motion, thrusting his whole rigidity through the warm, flaccid channel formed by the firm, white rounded, tits. As he pushed, the blue-black head of his cock appeared at the far end of the warm, soft tunnel and brushed gently against her chin leaving a tiny spot of moisture each time it touched from the seminal fluid seeping from it in his excitement.

He kept up the slow rocking motion between her quivering breasts for several minutes, feeling his penis growing and expanding until he was afraid it would erupt into a great gushing fountain of sperm before he was ready. He had to force himself to sit still for a moment and content himself with pushing and pulling at the maddening softness of the two throbbing mounds so warmly surrounding him. He tweaked at the nipples and rubbed them over the top of his cock together, one against the other, watching with bared teeth as they jerked and throbbed into a greater hardness that he had not thought possible. At the same time, he studied her face and the reaction it was having upon her.

It was electrifying!

Her eyes were open now and gazed unseeing up into the darkness of the ceiling. A thin smoky-veil of passion obscuring their dilated pupils. Her hips and ass writhed on the bed below, her thighs limply kicking out and then drawing up again as though searching for some invisible lover to draw inside of them. She was completely out of control and Duke knew that nothing he did now would matter, she would accept any degradation he would force upon her to quell the fire that was raging out of control in her vagina.

There was just one thing more before he fucked her.

His eyes locked on her full red sensuous lips still muttering nothings out into the air from her tortured need. They were wet and moist from her tongue swirling around them as she lay suffering beneath him in unfulfilled desire.

He wanted to shove his cock down in between them and shuddered as the mere thought of that moist warm cavern closing around it caused it to jerk and almost ejaculate where it lay between her breasts.

He moved up a little so that his knees were on either side of her neck and his long black cock throbbed out directly over her face, presenting her unseeing eyes a view of the pulsating sperm filled ridge running beneath it. His balls lay gently against her moistened chin. He sat still for a moment, feeling the firm resilient mounds of her breasts squashed down beneath his buttocks. He did not move to give her mind time to adjust to the change in position. Whatever he did had to be slow so as not to break the spell she was under. If she ever returned to total consciousness he knew her mind would fight the dictates of her body and he did not want her in rape tonight. He wanted her mad with desire.

He placed both his hands gently down behind her head and lifted it up off the bed bending her neck up toward him so that her face and mouth were poised directly in front of the palpitating head of his cock. He pushed forward slightly, his buttocks rolling on the cushion of her breasts behind, until the tip of his penis was pressed gently between her slightly open lips. He groaned as he felt the soft lipsticked surfaces brush gently against the sensitive skin of the head. Her lips closed at the first touch and he held his breath waiting for a sudden cry of protest… but none came.

Instead her lips fell limply open and her head pressed forward of its own volition without his having to pull her to him. The movement caught him by surprise as he thought she was beyond moving at all and he watched with unbelieving delight as the tight rounded ovals of lipstick covered mouth enclosed over the tightly stretched skin of his cock. He had never in his wildest dreams ever thought he would see the day when he could look down and see his jet black instrument skewering into the face of a white girl, particularly, one as beautiful and innocent as this one was… and she was enjoying it.

She had started using her tongue, slowly at first, and he could feel it swiping around him, causing his cock to jerk inside her mouth. Her lips were soft and smooth and clasped tightly to him in a close elastic ring. He could feel them with pained intensity moving down his prick and taking as much of him as she could in her mouth and surrounding him with the hot moist warmth of her saliva and the tender inner flesh of her tongue. He pressed his hands on either side of her hollowing cheeks and pressed inward.

She began to suck him with a moist, nibbling pressure and her tongue licked and curled around him as though she had done this a thousand times and all the hunger burning deep in her vagina was now concentrated in one great gust of sensation in her mouth. Duke above her flailing head groaned incoherently pushed his hands tight against her cheeks. He wanted her to make him cum and he wanted to make her swallow it so that she would know later that he had bent her completely to his will, that he had dominated her as she would never be dominated again. He flexed his loins in and out at the near rounded open hole formed by her lips and rolled his buttocks around on her flaccid yielding breasts as though he were attempting to crush them down into her chest. He watched wild eyed from above as his black glistening flesh disappeared into her clasping lips like it were another hungry, nibbling cunt. He could feel all of himself, every nerve he possessed pulsating and throbbing between her lips and into the moist cavity and warmth of her saliva-filled mouth.

His loins were growing hot and he was sweating between his legs and still she sucked, keeping his prick in her mouth, burying her face in his loins until he knew it was the end. The pressure building in his balls slapping against her chin as she worked in her unconscious and passion was excruciating and unbearable and his cock seemed to inflate and lengthen beyond anything it had ever done before.

And then suddenly, there was a jerk in his loins and nothing in the world could have stopped the liquid white flow that was rushing like a waterfall up from his aching balls and out the tip of his jerking penis. He gripped her head tight between her hands and shoved his cock deep into her throat. She groaned beneath him as the first needle thin spurt of hot, fiery liquid flooded into the back of her mouth filling the warm moist cavity, bloating and stretching her cheeks until they almost burst. Her throat worked gluttonously, swallowing and sputtering to keep from choking on the white sticky semen as he emptied his balls relentlessly into the depths of her gullet.

Duke's body quivered above her as he felt the last of his masculinity drained from his rapidly deflating penis. He was momentarily exhausted and had to brace himself with his hands tangled in her hair to keep from falling to the side of the bed. He started to lift himself from her but to his amazement she would not let his deflated organ escape from her lips. She continued to suck gently, undulating her buttocks behind him down into the bed and rubbing her legs hungrily together as he watched with disbelief the thin tiny trails of white cum running down from the corners of her mouth to her chin below. He had never felt anything like it and it seemed as though he had been completely drained of all the strength and desire he ever possessed.

But, after a short while his cock began to thicken again in the soft, now slippery warmth of her mouth. She licked it and bit it gently, seeming to take delight in her power to bring it to life again after its cataclysmic collapse.

Then, when it had grown to full size once again and he thought he could never make love again as long as he lived, he felt desire begin to rekindle in his loins. She continued to nibble for a moment longer, swiping her slippery tongue around and around it until she was certain it was restored to its full length and power and then she let her head fall heavily back to the bed. The rejuvenated instrument slipped wetly from her mouth a small, thin string of semen still connecting her lips to it. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him through smoky, desire ridden pupils for a moment and then pleaded in a desperate whisper: "Fuck me."

The surprised negro wasted no time as he lifted his buttocks from her tightly squashed buttocks and moved down the length of her body. He came to rest directly between her already open thighs and reached down between them to complete the connection. She was ready and there was no need to prepare her now. He could feel the wet, moist opening of her cunt throbbing in desperate anticipation as with his fingers he guided his thick, black cock straight into her. He paused but a moment to part the sparse blond pubic hair, now wet with excited secretions, with the head of his penis and then with one long smooth stroke he rammed it into her all the way up to her cervix. There was not the slightest resistance now from the number of times she had been fucked since they had abducted her and he could feel the smooth, wet walls of her cunt clamping around his cock so moistly and firmly it almost drove him crazy.

"Ooooooooh," she moaned and sang as he felt her entire insides flowering open to recede him deep in her womb. She was groaning and murmuring incoherently now as he began to fuck viciously into her, gritting his teeth with desire. Her body followed him and began to move in wild abandoned jerks beneath him.

"Ooooh God, ooooh God, so good, so good!" she groaned as if in anguish, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, pulling his muscular black chest into the soft, whiteness of her breasts.

He plunged his long cock up and up, deeper and deeper into the warm soft cavern of her cunt, feeling the whole of her belly flowering open before his onslaught as though she had never been fucked before in her life.

Her whole body jerked and twisted and she moaned incessantly, her face contorted in ecstatic passion. Her mouth moved ceaselessly and her nostrils flared in untamed, animal desire that had taken hold of her body as though it were writhing in the throes of an epileptic fit. Her forehead was covered with a light coat of glistening sweat that had broken out beneath her disheveled long blond hair. There was nothing that could stop her wild race for fulfillment now and the negro fucked like a mad man to end it for her.

"Oooh God, yes, yes," she cried up into the room as he slithered his strong, sinewy hands under the wildly pumping cheeks of her ass and cupped them tightly, raising them up off the bed for greater access to her open and pleading loins.

He squirmed down into her from that position with all the strength of his hips and thighs and could feel the smooth, raw flesh of her cunt clasping and unclasping like a heart beat all around his hot, bursting cock. He fucked into her from the tips of his toes and rammed the last inch of thick black cock thundering up her hole, bringing a new ecstatic moan from her lips that resounded through the room like the cry of a wounded and dying animal. Her nostrils flared again and her eyes, open wide now, gazed glassy-eyed and unseeing up into the darkness, a wild and unsatiated desire burning lustfully in them.

He pulled his head back so that he could watch the white girls face. It was something he did not want to miss, the sudden and humiliating surrender of her whole being to a black boy who had snatched her off the street in the middle of the night and fucked the shit out of her, without ceremony, in the back seat of a car. And now… now she was twisting and writhing beneath him unable to control at all her wild desire to be fucked and humiliated by that same black boy. Her face was wildly contorted with passion and her lips bared back tightly over her teeth with greater and more desperate sounds coming robot-like from deep in her savagely heaving chest.

Her arms which had been wrapped tightly around his neck, her nails digging desperately in his back, slithered down now and dug demonically into his muscular, thrusting buttocks as they pounded down into her open and unprotected loins.

Wet smacking noises resounded through the room with each cruel pile-driving lunge he made into her and blended in tempo to the sounds coming from the other room where the other three negroes were without letup, raping and ravishing the every open entrance to the fallen Jodie's body.

Duke could hear her screams resounding through the open door and it drove him to greater desire to heap all the obscene indignities he could on the white girl grunting slavishly beneath him. He ran his hands from the smooth, hollowing cheeks of her ass down to her thighs and between them to the soft, soaked, pubic hair surrounding her cunt to feel the clinging lips of flesh which held and throbbed around his cock like a tight rubbery mouth and was running with moisture which overflowed wetly down the wide-split crevice of her ass.

Her body was slippery from the sweat of the wild untamed gyrations of her ravenous body and her head flailed uncontrollably back and forth on the dirty, soiled sheet beneath them. Her mouth was wide open in ecstatic abandoned she had become something crazed and inhuman as she twisted and churned, spreading her legs wide apart and jerking them up to her shoulders, egging him on.

"Oh, oh, deeper, harder, fuck me, fuck me," she begged, gasping as if she were close to death. She was nearing her orgasm and swung her soft, tender thighs up and wound them voluptuously around his back, waving her ass in uncontrolled abandon from side to side and spiraling her cunt up and down crazily on his plunging and hotly growing black cock.

"I'm curing! I'm cuming!" she suddenly squealed with a high pitched gasp of intense passion and locked her ankles in a death grip high up behind his laboring back. At the same time her arms snaked tightly around his neck and smashed her open abandoned mouth to his where he could still taste the pungent flavor of his sperm that he had spurted into her throat such a short time ago. Her body arched and she held tight to him, not moving but quivering and jerking around him in a pulsating rhythm that spewed her orgasmic fluid out around his still hard driving cock and down the wide-split crevice of her ass soaking his balls as they slapped hard into her tiny puckered anus.

Though he had been sucked dry a few short minutes ago the wildness of the white girl's orgasm had started a slow aching pressure deep within his balls again and he gripped the cheeks of her still rotating ass and squeezed with a crushing strength, feeling her cringe as great gasps of passion began spewing from his own throat.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," he rasped and groaned and increased the viciousness of his strokes so that his pelvis smacked like a wooden paddle hard against the ragged pink flanges of her loins and his hardened black cock dipped deep down into the far, far, hidden recesses of her pulsating belly.

He felt himself cumming and throwing his hands down behind her knees, shoved her soft, tender thighs up over her shoulders and ground as far down into her open and yielding cunt as he could go, bringing groans of left over passion from her lips still locked tightly to his. Her arms still clasped him in their death grip, the ache in his baits was unbearable.

He had to cum now or he would die!

He gasped into the moistness of her mouth, felt the bursting at his loins, heard her whimpering cry and the tightening of her arms around his neck, and then, with a deep soul-shattering grunt that went on and on into her mouth, he exploded inside her, shooting his hot, liquid sperm deep down into the liquid depths of her open and receptive womb.

They lay still then, locked in the lewd embrace of love for seeming forever though it was only minutes, their interlocked limbs presenting a vivid and strange picture of black fucking white. And then he rolled off her sweat soaked body, noticing her chest still heaving from the effort of their final orgasm. He wanted to say something to make it nice but there was nothing he could think of. They were worlds apart and he saddened at the thought that the only equalizer between them now lay limp and wet between his thighs. He reached down and pulled the ragged, filthy blanket up over both of them and then turning his back on the white girl, went to sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Susan awoke to the sound of a squirrel running across the roof of the shack. At first she lay still, her blurted eyes looking toward the ceiling in con fused thought.

Where was she?

It didn't look like her ceiling at home, the powder blue one with the tiny white flowers sprinkled over it that seemed to bloom right there in the room when a bright sunny day came. No, she was somewhere else and there was a different odor. A strange one that she had never smelled before, like, like something raw and savage. She started to move and then groaned under her breath. Her muscles were so sore between her thighs that she could not move them and lay still again until the pain went away.

Her stomach felt funny and filled. It was all warm inside as though there were a gently glowing coal implanted there which did not burn but still emitted a soft, soothing heat.

She moved her arms to stretch and suddenly froze!

There was something next to her and it was soft and warm like another body. She held her breath and turned her head slowly to the side. Her mouth gaped open as suddenly her eyes focused in the early morning light on a muscular, ebony back lying on the bed next to her.

And then she remembered.

She clenched her eyes tightly shut and remembered it all. The beginning with the other three negroes viciously raping the girl the leader had thrown to them; her intense fear and groveling for protection; and then finally, the wild twisting and churning of bodies and sensations. She had succumbed to those sensations, her inhibitions and prejudices totally destroyed by the ordeal she had been through in the last several days. And that was the smell, the smell of raw and consummated sex that covered both their bodies from the wild orgy of salacious pleasure they had gone through last night. And she remembered too the eruption in her belly as he had spewed his hot sperm deep up inside of her as she had urged him on with her lips, thighs, ant. That was where the heat, the heat and warmth came from that she still felt so vividly this morning in her belly. It was the great pool of white warm liquid that he had emptied into her and buried deep inside her that made her feel that way. Vague fears of becoming pregnant by him flickered through her mind but were overshadowed by the sudden realization and humiliation of knowing she had wanted it.

She had begged him to do it to her and had urged him on with all her physical being like a whore he may have dragged in off the streets. She was frightened of the others and that excused her submitting to him but nothing could excuse her sudden lapse into an uncontrollable passion that deadened her every sense of righteousness.

A sudden low moan came through the partially open door from the other room. It sounded as though someone were dying, like the sound that had started all of this when she had been attracted to her mother's room a few nights ago. She lifted the cover slowly from her side of the bed so as not to disturb the soundly sleeping negro and slipped quietly to the floor, picking up her tattered dress and slipping it down over her head as she did so. She did not bother with the panties and the brassiere, they were too torn and ripped to do any good anyway so she left them in a pile on the floor where they had been flung in such haste last night. She tip-toed to the door and peered through the open crack into the room and suddenly gasped at the depraved sight that greeted her eyes. They were all naked, with Coke and Shorty sound asleep in the chairs around the table. The negro girl lay flat on her back on the bed with her thighs wide apart and the imbecilic Stitch's head resting between her legs and against the mound of her pubic hair, sound asleep.

The girl's eyes were still closed but she groaned now and then as though on the verge of coming awake. Susan's thoughts raced a mile a minute.

This was her chance!

And, it may be the last one she would get. She still didn't know what they intended to do to her but guessed they would have to kill her. She knew too much now and even the strong desire and liking that Duke had for her could not protect her from the basic logic that they could not afford to let her go.

She held her breath and moved the door slightly, testing it to see if it made a noise. It did not. She pulled it open slowly and slipped into the other room, her bare feet moving cat-like across the rough pine board floor.

A board squeaked!

She went rigid and her heart stopped beating but there was no sound from the sleeping negroes to indicate she had disturbed them. She continued her tip-toeing toward the front door and lifted the latch gently. It opened easily and she pushed her way silently out to the front porch, leaving the door open for fear her closing it would awaken them. She could see the small dirt-roadway a short distance down from the house and thought if she could make that she might be able to stop a passing farmer's truck or something before they discovered she was gone.

She had just reached the bottom step, her heart pounding in her throat, when the unexpected happened. A slight gust of wind caught the light clapboard door and blew it shut with a loud crash. She had no choice but to run, and run she did as fast as her tortured and wobbly legs would carry her. But again, as when they had abducted her from the street, her attempt at escape was useless.

There was shouting from the house as Duke had awakened and sounded the alarm. She heard racing steps on the porch behind her and again the pounding of feet at her back. There was a rough hand clasping at the back of her neck and it was all over.

Shorty caught her and dragged her bodily back to the house. He still had no clothes on and was naked from head to foot. The others were rapidly throwing their trousers and shirts on as she was pushed sobbing through the door.

"See, Duke," the negress, now sitting up in the center of the bed shouted in a loud shrilly voice. "I tole ya, ya couldn't trust no honky bitch. She's plays all up to ya and then runs away the first chance she gits."

Duke looked at Susan without malice. She could see he understood why she had tried it but he would have to do something drastic to protect himself in the eyes of his gang.

"Tie 'er up in the bedroom," he said simply, jerking his thumb toward the room in which he had ravished her willing body last night. "And make it good," he added. "Showing his concern for their security to the gang."

"Aw, fuck man. Why don't we jist git rid o' her now. We gotta git goin' in a few minutes, man, if we gonna make it back to finish up in time fo' tonite."

"We ain't gittin' rid o' her," Duke said coldly to the short, squat negro. "We're leavin' 'er here."

"Man, you crazy," he responded incredulously. "She'd have the fuzz down our necks befo' we got two miles."

"Stitch and Jodie can stay here and guard her. He'd only git in the way anyhow."

Cold shivers of sudden deep fear ran down Susan's spine as she heard his words. She was going to be left with the negress and the idiot! She wanted to scream out and plead with him not to do such a cruel and horrible thing. Her life wouldn't be worth a thing and if they didn't kill her they would do terrible things to her that would make her wish she were dead. She looked horror-stricken around the room and her eyes met those of the negress. A cold, cruel light of sadistic delight shone in them and Susan knew she didn't stand a chance of living through the day if she were left alone with her.

"Please, d-don't leave me with them," she pleaded, tears streaming from her face in piteous profusion now.

"I gotta," he answered. "I need the others."

And then, turning to Stitch and Jodie, he said in cold, threatening voice, "If anybody touches 'er they'll answer to me."

There was a silence and then Duke, apparently satisfied that his authority would prevent them from doing anything to her, ordered Coke and Shorty to get ready to leave.

Susan was tied securely in the bare corner of the bedroom, her arms bound by rope to two steel eyes in the wall, obviously used as towel racks by the previous occupant. It was uncomfortable and stretched her arms high above her head out on either side of her but at least it allowed her to sit on the floor. Not many minutes later, Duke opened the door and looked in at her.

"Don't worry none, I tole them not bother ya. We'll be back tonite."

With that, he closed it and she was alone. She tugged against the bindings as soon as he was gone but they were secure and she could not budge them. After awhile, she heard the front door slam and the car pull out of the driveway. She began to tremble knowing she was alone with the two negroes now and completely at their mercy. She knew the negress would not leave her alone and would take her spiteful revenge at the first opportunity and the only slight, tiny hope she had was that Stitch's fear of Duke would force him to protect her. But, after Duke's humiliation at the meeting with the well-dressed negro she was not certain he could not be convinced otherwise. She slumped to the floor and hung her head in abject dispair. There was nothing else she could do.

***

A long time later, and she was not certain just how long, she was shaken from the hazy half sleep she had drifted into, by the door slowly opening. She held her breath and gasped as she saw the negress suddenly outlined menacingly in the door frame. There was an arrogant, self satisfied look on her face as she gazed down at the helplessly bound Susan. It was a long time before she spoke.

"I tole ya," she laughed evilly, puffing on the cigarette she held in her hand.

Susan mustered up her courage and decided she had better try and bluff as long as she could.

"D-Duke said he'd kill you if you touched me."

The negress laughed a mocking laugh and Susan didn't blame her. Even to herself the protest sounded weak and feeble as though she herself did not believe it. Her eyes widened as the negress suddenly began a slow half-walk, half-shuffle to wards her tightly bound body. When she was standing right in front of Susan, she looked down at her contemptuously for a moment and then with a lightning movement grabbed her by the hair and leaned down, twisting Susan's pain wracked face up close to her own. She held her in the painful, neck-breaking position for a moment, her eyes sparking with hate and then hissed into her face.

"You know what I'm gonna do to ya, honky? I'm gonna let Stitch turn ya inside out for awhile and then I'm gonna carve ya up slow like, tit by tit, or what's left of ya when he gets through."

"Oh please, please leave me alone," Susan whimpered, sobbing up through her contorted mouth. "I didn't mean it. It just happened."

"This is jist gonna happen too, baby," she laughed. "Git it, a happening, that's what we're gonna have, a happening."

"No, no, I'll tell Duke when he comes back," the poor distraught white girl screamed in a last try at a courageous front.

"There won't be nothin' left when he gits back, baby," the negress spit coldly into her face and suddenly without warning rammed the burning cigarette she held in her hand hard into the bottom of Susan's foot.

She jumped and screamed against her bonds trying to escape the horrible, excruciating pain. The smell of burned flesh filled the room.

"D-D-Duke says to leave 'er a-alone," the wide-eyed Stitch, who had come running at the sound of the scream, protested from the door.

The negress looked back at him contemptuously and reaching forward with both hands ripped the remnants of Susan's tattered dress from her. Her large, firm breasts fell free into the air and Susan could see the idiot's eyes suddenly bulge at the voluptuous sight of the naked white body bound helplessly to the wall.

"Ya like that, Stitch, wanna try some of it, huh?" The negress taunted him as he stood in the doorway shaking from the sudden lustful picture of Susan cowering down in the corner away from the fiery negress.

"Show 'im what'cha got, honky baby, open them legs wide," the ecstatic Jodie commanded to her.

Susan did not move but she suddenly jerked again as the brightly burning tip of the cigarette was pressed hard into her arm.

"Aaaaaaaagggghhhh!" she screamed and whimpered against the torturous, searing sensation that seemed to cut all the way to the bone.

"When I says move, honky, you move," she heard hissed at her through her pain-deadened mind.

Susan's legs went limp and she let her thighs fall slightly apart from their own weight. She could feel the negress reaching down and grasping her ankles and pulling her as far out of the corner as she could get her with her hands still bound to the walls. Her buttocks scraped painfully across the rough floor and she moaned in protest but it was not heard.

"Now open 'em, baby, I want Stitch to see how nice and tight a real white pussy looks."

Reluctantly, with tears of shame and fear coursing down her reddened cheeks, Susan spread them a few inches.

"More, honky, more, Stitch can't see it, can ya, Stitch," she teased at him as his eyes grew wider and small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.

Susan following her commands like a robot, spread her thighs wider but the negress, losing patience grabbed her at the ankles and jerked them hard apart. The poor girl sobbed again from the pain and humiliation, feeling the raw, pink flesh of her vagina stretched and open from the outward pressure against her legs. She was totally exposed to the trembling negro's gaze as his eyes locked in lustful desire at the tiny tight opening nestling in the sparse, soft field of blond cuntal hair between her legs.

"Wouldn't you like to sink that big black cock of yours right up in that tight lil pussy, Stitch, baby? Man, it'd feel like hot warm bacon grease slippin' around it."

Cowering in the corner, Susan had never felt more naked and frightened in her life. She was at the mercy of a mad-woman and a half-crazed idiot both at the same time and there was nothing that could be done about it. Her flesh still stung from where the negress had pressed the burning cigarette into her and she could not go through the horrible pain of that again. She would gladly die rather than go through this humiliation but she knew they would not kill her, not right away, anyway. The hate-filled Jodie was enjoying her sadistic revenge too much to listen to any kind of pleas for mercy, in fact she probably would enjoy it a hundred times more if she could get her to beg. There was no hope at all now for anything and she didn't try to stop the hopeless tears of humiliation and fright that were streaming down her cheeks.

She jumped suddenly as she felt a pressure between her legs. The negress had knelt down beside her and had brushed her hand against the tender flesh surrounding her vagina.

"She'd like you bettah than Duke, Stitch. Look at that how she jumps when she thinks 'bout you crawlin' on top of her and fuckin' her with that big thing of yours," and she thrust a finger hard into the moist opening of Susan's spread vagina, bringing another helpless twist of her body and a groan from her tortured lips.

"See, Stitch, see," the delighted negro girl cackled. "She loves ya."

"Y-Y-Yeah," the demented Stitch sputtered and Susan's eyes sprung open wide in fright as she suddenly looked up and saw him advancing across the floor with a lust-crazed look on his face and a great bulge in his pants.

"I-I-I'll f-fuck 'er," he mouthed wetly, not taking his eyes from between her legs where the grinning Jodie had expertly insinuated her fingers and was methodically massaging them around and around to widen the passage.

"Git 'er on the bed, man," the negress suddenly said, withdrawing her fingers wetly from Susan's cunt. She rose and taking a knife from under her blouse, slashed the bonds holding her to the wall, and lifted her by one arm to a standing position. "Now jist lay down there, baby, and ole Stitch's gonna give ya the best fuckin' ya ever had in your whole life. Jist like he did me last night," she added with a bitter sneer.

Susan hesitated and through the slit of her half opened eyes she suddenly saw the fiery glow of the cigarette pressing toward her firm, fear-throbbing breast. She leaped away from it and twisted half-crazily toward the bed. She could not stand it again, not the burning pain that had driven her half wild a few moments before. She would do anything, anything.

She landed face down on the bed where Duke had screwed her last night and lay quivering in fear and humiliation.

Oh God, would this horrible nightmare never end, ran helter skelter through her fevered thoughts. She'd rather die, rather die. But not tile pain again, she couldn't stand it. She would do anything!

She heard Stitch's clothes dropping hurriedly from his body as she remembered hearing Duke's last night and suddenly found herself wishing it were him again. At least, he had been human and gentle about it and for some strange unknown reason she had responded. It was animal-like, but still it had been a response. Now there was nothing but the shame and humiliation of lying here on this filthy, awful bed while the idiot Stitch finally got his way with her and the venomous Jodie egged him on to heap greater and greater indignities upon her helpless body.

She jerked as she suddenly felt hands on her buttocks behind. It was Jodie and she was drawing them slowly apart. Susan could not see her eyes but imagined them as burning and glistening like coal even in the light coming in through the window. She had wanted her revenge and she was getting it, getting it a thousand-fold.

"Look at it, Stitch, you kin fuck her here. She'll like it. It's a tight little asshole," Jodie crooned on, building the imbecile's passion to a point where she knew when it burst, it would burst into a sadistic and crazed violence just as she had been subjected to last night. She wanted to see this little white bitch get hers just like she had, only a hundred times more and before the day was over she would wish she were dead – if she weren't.

Susan felt the hands move away and they were replaced suddenly by wild slivering lips coursing all around her smooth, oval buttocks. He was biting into them without control, bringing tiny gasps of pain from her as she screwed her pelvis down into the mattress to try and escape. He pulled them apart with his thumbs and she could feel his long thick tongue snaking down and licking into the hot, slightly sweating crevice. He pulled and stretched at her asshole and she could feel the strain on the tight rubbery ring around it. It hurt and she felt lewd and obscene and her whole soul not just her body, felt naked and exposed to all the world as the crazed black form hovered over her buttocks behind and slobberingly plundered at the tiny brown puckered hole. But she didn't care now. Nothing was important anymore as long as she escaped the burning torture of the cigarette she could still smell burning behind her somewhere in the room as the vengeful Jodie stood and watched the whole obscene spectacle with hate-filled eyes glowing in savage satisfaction.

There was a pressure against her ankles and she did not resist as she felt her legs pulled open wide until the tips of her toes were hanging down on either side of the wide double bed. The negroes finger poked at her asshole and she jerked automatically from the sudden pain.

"Relax," the negress hissed at her from by the side of the bed and lowered another burning cigarette before the girl's face. "Open your ass."

Susan gasped and pleaded silently for a second and then relaxed to be used as the slavering negro crouching behind her desired. She sucked in her breath as he dug at her anus again with his middle finger, insinuating it slowly and methodically into the depths of her rectum. She moaned and pressed her face tight into the mattress as she felt him slip it in harshly up to the first knuckle and begin to move it around sadistically in her tight contracting asshole. He dug his finger deeper and she cried out but the scream died in her throat as she saw the burning tip of the cigarette again before her eyes.

The crazed Stitch's finger had impaled her deeper and he began to grind it around down into her tightly constricted anal passage with a greater force now. She began to jerk her buttocks involuntarily to escape the cruel probing but her quivers only drove it deeper and deeper into her.

"Go on, Stitch," the impatient negress standing by the bed goaded, "Fuck her in the ass."

The negro slipped his finger from her rectum with a wet sucking noise and clasped his broad thick rod in his hand. He had never felt so excited in his life and his body shook as he looked down on the helpless white girl stretched beneath him, so vulnerable and open. He had waited a long time to get his turn at her while all the others had had theirs. Now it was his turn and his eyes shone frenzied and wild as he gently pulled at his huge black cock, bigger than any of the others by far, and he stroked to bring it to its full power. He wanted to go as deep in her as he could and show her he was just as good as Duke. He had heard her moaning and groaning under Duke last night as he had listened from the other room and knew he could make her like it too just as Duke had done.

He half lowered himself, half fell, down onto her back and she could feel his hands fumbling between them and pulling the cheeks of her ass wide apart. He lifted his ass in the air and she could feel the tip of his cock probing against her for several seconds, trying to find the tight puckered hole.

And suddenly he did.

He pushed forward and she felt a slight pop at her anus – and then – then a sudden spasm of pain so unbearable that she twisted and screamed, again and again, trying with all her strength to get away. Her buttocks were moving like a live animal thrashing about to escape but her jerks only helped to drive his huge black penis deeper and deeper inside her.

She could feel the pressure of the demented negro's body pressing down on her with a pulverizing strength, pushing her down into the bed, punishing the lovely white ass that waved back at his eyes. She bucked back up at him, trying to throw him off but as she bucked up, he rammed down and imbedded his thick, rock-hard cock all the way to the hilt in the soft flaccid tunnel of her ass.

"Aaaahhhggggg, God," she grunted in pain and continued her hopeless thrashing beneath him. She no longer felt human as the huge black cock ripped far up into her rectum, pushing against the bottom of her belly inside. She felt as though she were split open by a knife and her insides were torn and ripped as they had never been before. The pain was unbearable and she fought in wild desperation for a full minute longer against the brutal fleshy pole sunk in her backside and then with a final groan of hopeless surrender her strength failed. She collapsed in a limp mass of flesh beneath the body of the negro who had her pinned to the bed like a butterfly in an insect collection.

The sadistic Jodie bent down beside her on the bed and hissed in her ear.

"Like it in the ass, honky."

And that made it a million times worse, to know that she was watching it all and enjoying Susan's crude and inhuman humiliation at the hands of the half-wit. Her crackling laughter reverberated through the room like the voice of doom itself, urging the panting Stitch, who lay with his cock throbbing inside her, to rip her apart.

"How would Duke like that now, baby? Watchin' his little white honky gittin' fucked in the asshole." Her words of mockery and insult droned on until suddenly the pain in Susan's rectum from the giant entry began to ease a little. She still felt ripped and stretched there but the time he had lain on her not moving had given her anus time to gradually adjust to the unnatural invasion and her mind to clear a little. The jungle instinct of survival that lies buried deep in the mind of every human being as a throw back to that time eons ago when they too crawled upon the earth on their bellies began to reverberate through her brain.

Two could play the game the vicious negress was playing by appealing to the animal instincts of the half-witted Stitch. She too could do it. He was her only hope now to protect her from the horrible death or mutilation that was certain to follow her ravishment now. She had to get him on her side at any and all costs or her fate was sealed. And… there was only one way to do that.

Stitch suddenly groaned as he felt the white girls' anal muscles tighten around his long thick length buried inside her. His cock throbbed harder and he couldn't believe his senses when her buttocks began a slow methodical, but hardly perceptible rotation beneath him. He flexed his penis deep up her rectum in an answering signal to convince his skeptical and unbelieving mind that she was responding to him. He gasped as he felt it, felt her throb and tighten around like a warm fitting glove. His joy knew no bounds. He had conquered her and suddenly gasping and moaning in a new found delight, he jerked her almost weightless body up to its knees without losing the connection and began to saw rhythmically and deep far down into the velvety confines of her anus. He watched with disbelieving jubilance as the pinkish round skin of her puckered little asshole draw back with the long black shaft, clasping to it as though it did not want to let it go.

Susan knelt before him and prayed, prayed that her revulsion and humiliation would not betray her to him and that she could hold out long enough to convince him he had really conquered her will. Kneeling before him she began to undulate her buttocks in small tiny circles, waving the white full rounded cheeks back at him lasciviously like a red flag before a bull. And strangely, the tiny bit of whore in every woman suddenly broke forth into a tingle of masochistic excitement. She wasn't working for money but for her life, but it was all the same and she did not fight it. She wanted to enjoy it, she had to enjoy it, or he would know she was using him. There was still pain but it was strangely pleasurable and she found herself thrusting and squirming back to meet the obscene impalement and he jerked forward into her.

"Man, that honky likes it, Stitch," the ecstatic Jodie crooned from the side of the bed as she too mistook Susan's sudden gyrations as a sign of total and complete surrender to the sodomizing she was receiving from the huge ebony cools.

Behind her the impassioned and delighted Stitch groaned each time he surged up into her and she too was moaning beneath him and twisting and waving the whiteness of her ass back at him in a lewd invitation to fuck into her harder and deeper. Her face was turned to the side on the bed and he could see her teeth bared back in ecstatic delight, her tongue flicking out wetly in time to the increasing power of his long, smooth strokes into her that carried the full length of his long plunging rod of flesh. Her long, blond hair flowed out over the bed and periodically whirled in the air before his eyes as with a sudden or particularly hard thrust she would grunt and flail her head to the other side.

God, he had her.

She was his now to do as he liked for as long as he liked and even as he rammed into her now, weird pornographic pictures of the things he would do with her voluptuous white body later, filtered through his dim-witted mind and increased his pleasure that much more.

"Oooooh, oooooh," she moaned and grunted beneath him and he pressed forward as far as he could, pulling the soft cheeks of her ass wide apart to allow him to go deeper, and just holding it there. His cock was buried to the hilt up her painfully expanded rectum and he suddenly gasped again. Her hand had reached down under her body and was gently cradling his balls, scraping her nails over them in a maddening, teasing motion that brought saliva running from the edges of his mouth.

"Oh yes, darling, fuck it like that," she crooned through her tightly clenched lips as he gorged into her buttocks as hard as he could and rotated the giant blood-filled head deep around in her asshole.

Susan could almost feel herself splitting open from the power and pressure he was exerting deep down inside her but she gritted her teeth tight and did all the things she knew he would want her to do. She mouthed obscenities back at him and pleaded with him to do things to her with words like cunt, fuck, and shit. And all the time she thrust back against him, hiding her shame and humiliation in her grim determination to convince him she wanted it more than anything else in the world.

And she had.

Behind her, the still elated Stitch began to throb and ache in his balls where her fingers coursed over them. He knew he was close to cumming and he wanted it to be good. This little white bitch was his now and he had waited a long time to get her beneath him and he was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Susan could feel his hugeness inside her stretched and expanded rectum growing and she knew what was coming. She knew he was going to shoot his lewd, hot sperm deep up into her helpless anus and she would have given anything in the world if there were any other way, but there wasn't. She would have to take it all inside her even if the humiliation and shame killed her.

The now crazed negro behind her began to fuck into her asshole with ever increasing speed. His hand ripped and pulled at the soft white rounded globes of buttocks like they were soft resilient clay in his hands. He spread the cheeks of her ass wide-apart and with bulging eyes watched the full black length of his pistoning cock split the whiteness of her anus like a soot covered train tunneling through a snow covered mountain. His cock felt as though it would burst, not just at the end but all along the full length where the rubbery tight walls of her rectum held it vice-like and hot. The white girl was mumbling and whimpering incoherent noises into the mattress, and, mistaking them for cries of wanton passion, he increased the vigor and power of his strokes until he was buffeting her forward into the headboard of the bed with cruel earth-shattering lunges.

Susan cried out in desperate prayer, unable to stop herself in the mad scramble of the lust-crazed negro to complete his orgasm.

"Oh God, ooooh God," she screamed, the sobs choking down her throat as she felt him jerk inside her and realized to her horror that the moment was here when he was going to explode inside her and fill her helpless and unprotected belly with his obscene, hot, cum and there was nothing in the world she could do about it but lay kneeling in front of him like a galley slave and feign a rampant passion.

"Oh, cum, darling, cum," she shouted back at his sweating body, wanting to get it over with, wanting to end it forever. There was a muffled gurgle from behind her and she felt his great throbbing cock burst like a dam as he gave one last tremendous thrust into the back of her upraised buttocks and emptied his hot sperm in wave after wave deep into the depths of her rectum. Susan thought the ejaculating instrument would never stop flowing into her and could feel the hot sticky fluid overflowing around his still jerking cock and forcing its way out the tight nether ring of her asshole that was clamped tight around the base of his throbbing black cock. Her humiliation and shame were complete. She had whored herself and didn't even know if it would save her. She gasped out a deep sigh of relief as she felt his deflated and limp shaft of flesh slowly withdraw from her flooded behind. There was a slight, wet, sucking noise as it slipped out from between the full white moons of her buttocks with a lewd slurping sound. Then a sudden rush of cool air into the wetness of her loins as she remained kneeling with her buttocks waving high in the air for a moment and then collapsed off to the side of the bed.

The satiated and ecstatic Stitch lay mumbling to himself in his elation over his conquest of the white girl. It was something incomprehensible to him and as unreachable as the moon but it had happened and he lay back with a half-idiotic smile on his face, reveling in his unexpected and first triumph over Duke, their leader. He had taken his girl away.

Susan lay with her chest heaving from the awful ordeal of sodomy she had gone through. Her whole rectal passage ached and felt torn and she could feel it burning slightly where the negro's strong, pungent seminal fluid formed a still warm pool deep up inside it. She waited, knowing that the moment was coming soon that would tell if it had all been worth it or if she had just let herself get fucked in that horrible way for nothing.

The moment came a second later.

"Now it's my turn," she suddenly heard hissed venomously from the foot of the bed. She looked down and her eyes opened wide in horror. The negress, Jodie, her face contorted in bitter hate, was standing there with a long sharp switch-blade held menacingly in her hand.

The reclining Stitch, a lazy self-satisfied smile still frozen to his face, raised his head and stuttered: "W-W-What'cha gonna d-do?" he asked, suddenly showing alarm as he saw the knife glistening in the sunlight coming through the window.

"I'm gonna cut her tit off. Then ya can fuck her again," the negress spat down at him.

Susan closed her eyes and prayed. It was all out of her hands now, her work had ended when the idiotic Stitch had emptied his loins inside her aching rectum. It was all up to him now.

"N-No ya ain't."

Susan's eyes opened slightly as she felt his weight rise from the bed and saw him place himself between her and the advancing negress. His hands were clenched into tight fists and the muscles on his back stood out in broad, powerful sinews that gave her sudden security. At least she had someone on her side even if she had to undergo this same horrible ordeal she had just experienced over and over again until the others returned.

There was a sudden scuffle and a cry and her hopes were shattered as quickly as they had formed. The lithe, quick negress had lunged forward and caught the passion weakened Stitch straight between the ribs with the gleaming, silver blade of the knife. Susan cringed down back into the mattress, her eyes open in horrified disbelief as he stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open in shock, and then pitched forward dead on the floor with a dull thud that shook the flimsy walls of the shack.

The negress smiled again across the width of the bed.

"Nice try, honky," she rasped in hate, "but it was all for nuthin'. I'm gonna cut you up in little pieces, a little bit at a time."

Susan cowered back against the headboard of the bed, stunned at the sudden violent turn of events that now left her at the mercy of the deranged negress. She watched as a gentle bird hypnotized by the relentless approach of a silent hungry cat bearing down on it. She could not move and closed her eyes again to sweep away the horrible, insane vision of the glistening blade of steel now running with blood, held in the hand of the stealthy approaching negress.

"Now, honky baby," she heard through her fogged mind. "I want that left tit first."

A cold hand closed over her breast and stretched it harshly outward from her body… she groaned, and felt herself passing into the welcome oblivion of unconsciousness. But she was suddenly stunned by a quick and terrible roar. The coldness flew from her breast as though it had been slapped away and her eyes fluttered open.

Duke was standing in the doorway, a double barreled shot-gun in hands. Thin wisps of smoke were rising from both barrels. He said nothing, but motioned to her to come to him. It was difficult and her legs wobbled but she made it through the door and heard him close it behind them. She had not bothered to look at either of the bodies lying in the room because she knew she couldn't stand it even after the horror she had just been through.

"We forgot somethin' and came back," Duke said simply, and then added with a strange note of nostalgia in his voice that even he didn't understand. "They wouldn't a done that last year if I told 'em not to."

CHAPTER SIX

The groaning pick-up truck loaded with vegetables on the back stopped in a cloud of dust when its driver saw the petite, blond girl waving it down. He opened the door and let her in and then resumed his journey toward the town ahead.

"Been for a walk, Miss," he ventured, unaccustomed to having strange passengers on his weekly trip into the market.

"W-Why, yes, yes I have," the girl answered hesitantly and said nothing else.

"It's a long way from town, must've takin' you all day, might near," he continued, refusing to let the conversation lag as she would have liked.

"Y-Yes, I've been gone a long time," she answered, hoping he would let it go at that and concentrate on his driving so she could collect her shattered thoughts. Duke had spared her life and she could think of no reason that he should have, in fact, he had taken quite a chance with the plans that had been worked out with the well-dressed negro wearing the horn rimmed glasses that day so long ago. It was a long walk of quite a few hours from the trail on which the cabin was located to the main road but someone might have come along and given her a ride and she would have been in time to stop the whole thing. But now it was too late, the appointed hour had come and passed and if things had gone according to schedule there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it. Besides, she had given him her word and that should be worth something. He hadn't really forgotten anything when he had come back to the shack. She knew because he had taken nothing when he had left a short time later. He had come back because he had changed his mind about leaving her to them and because he knew he no longer controlled them. Last year, as he had said, it would have been different but they were following a new leader now. Not one that they could see, but one of brutal empty promises that would lead nowhere. One needed but the slogans of the new breed she had thought so much about back in the dilapidated shack and one had an angry and dedicated following that was no longer satisfied with the Duke's and others who knew nothing but how to heist beer from a standing delivery truck. She had had a long time to think about things on her walk down to the main road but had come to no conclusions at all, she would do that later when her mind was more clear and the effect of the awful carnage of the day had worn off.

"If you been walkin' all day, you missed the big news," the farmer spoke beside her, feeling uncomfortable sitting in silence.

"Oh," Susan answered, showing a mild tone of interest out of politeness.

"Yes siree," he said excitedly, suddenly happy to find a topic of conversation. "Half the city's burnin' down. Seems a couple of young niggers started a usual Friday night ruckus and when the police moved in somebody threw a fire bomb. That blew things sky-high. Some young punk National Guardsmen evidently got nervous and fired in the crowd that came runnin' out to see the fire and that's all she wrote."

"It's bad, huh," she said without enthusiasm.

"Man, I'll say it is," the farmer continued. "They've killed off about eighty of 'em already. Even got one of the big street gang leaders down there tryin' to kill a policeman. Named Duke somethin' or other. Cain't rightly remember now, but the whole nigger population's runnin' through the streets startin' fires right 'n left and actin' like a bunch o' wild animals."

"Don't we all sometimes," Susan muttered under her breath, remembering her own body bucking and twisting under the cruel sodomizing of the half-idiotic Stitch to save her own life.

"What da'ya saya Miss, I cain't hear ya. Little deaf ya know," he laughed. "Maybe we can get something on the radio."

Susan sat quietly as he clicked it on and the station announcer's voice came through the static loud and clear.

… and this evening, the leader of the black power movement says from his headquarters in Detroit, the vicious and uncontrolled rioting that has broken out in Chicago is just another example of the spontaneous and justified dissatisfaction of the negro with his position in today's America. And… he forecasts they will continue to occur through-out the major American cities as long as blatant police and military brutality continue to exist against the black man…

Yes, Susan thought to herself as the announcer droned on about the rising casualty and damage toll, I have taken a long walk today…

Content

Mark Townsend
White captive

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX