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Chapter 4 – Defiant Damsels
"I'm not going to the police!"
Yvonne had a very low opinion of the guardians in blue as they had so signally failed to protect her from the drug dealers or, indeed, to deal with the drug dealers at all in any effective way. If they couldn't handle something that was happening so openly, they didn't stand a chance against a team of rapists quietly fucking over a couple of women in a locked laundry room.
"They're just a bunch of posturing macho assholes!"
Star thought of the humiliatingly intimate inspection and swabbing that had been her experience after the Tag Team rape attempt and was inclined to agree. As a news anchor, she had been exposed to an awesome amount of arrogant police bullshit.
"The only problem is that we need medical attention! God knows what sort of diseases and infections we've been exposed to. If any of them had AIDS, the disease certainly had a direct connection to our bloodstreams with all those needle jabs. Who knows how clean the needles were?"
Yvonne's pretty face twitched, a study in sullen resentment and helpless outrage.
"I know a nurse. She'll help us."
She picked up the phone.
Much later, Nurse Amanda had finished her work. Cleaned up and pumped full of antibiotics, Star and Yvonne were still quaking pathetically. Amanda administered a much-needed sedative to help them cope. She spoke as reassuringly as she could under the circumstances.
"You're probably right not to go to the police. You don't need any more male abuse! Take my word for it. They have enough DNA evidence on the Bee Sting Rapists. Of course, it doesn't do any good if they can't capture the bastards! You have to have a suspect before DNA evidence does any good. None of the victims developed AIDS, although that can change at any time. Just get as much rest as you can."
Yvonne looked at her beseechingly.
"Can we stay with you? I don't feel safe here. I won't stay long, only as long as it takes to get a new, more secure apartment."
Amanda looked at the two bruised, dishevelled victims compassionately.
"Of course."
Star was hugely relieved.
"I just need a few days to recover and then I'll catch an airplane home. Phoning in sick isn't approved of, but screw that 'the show must go on' crap."
Amanda nodded approvingly.
"No job is worth dying for!"
A few days later, the hard-faced matron greeted Star as she stepped off the plane.
"Lucky you! You get an official escort to your vehicle. It turns out that airport management thinks it's bad publicity to have an anchorwoman attacked, peeled naked and almost raped on airport property."
Secretly, Star was hugely relieved.
"I'm impressed!"
The matron winked at her.
"So am I. I didn't think management was that smart!"
"This is the same management that had me strip searched?"
"That's them! Real publicity conscious guys all of a sudden!"
They laughed together, chatting amiably on the way to the car, a complimentary porter carrying her luggage. Star got in the car and drove home. The automatic door opener closed the garage door behind her as she turned off the engine.
They got her as she stepped out of the car.
"Welcome back, bitch!"
Star felt like her heart had been stomped. She began to pant as she went up on tiptoe, feeling the cold metal shaft of the ice pick go up her nostril and a hand cup the back of her head.
"We have a little unfinished business, cunt."
The Tag Team rapists took turns with the ice pick as they put Star through the now-familiar strip routine. She was 'encouraged' to step out of her black fuck me pumps. Her expensive silk blouse fluttered to the floor. Her breasts were un-cupped. Her skirt dropped to her slim ankles. Her panties and pantyhose were peeled down her shapely legs.
Sandwiched on tiptoe between the two, much taller rapists, the five foot six inch nude beauty was groped, fingered and fondled. Her 38D breasts were hefted and squeezed. Her perfect nipples were tweaked and tugged. Her bare buns were stroked. Questing fingers dipped between her legs, caressing her smooth shaven cuntlips.
Star gasped as she felt her cuntlips spread and a fuck finger crudely wormed its obscene way into her prick pocket. A beautiful babe that's just been jabbed in the cunt, half drowned, team creamed and, later, team reamed, may be pardoned an understandable mistake. She possibly thinks that she can handle a couple of guys who, according to the police reports, just want vaginal and anal sex with her featured as the naked meat in the sandwich. She may not be exactly overjoyed at the prospect, but she thinks she can handle it.
Of course, the cops always hold back a few 'details' so they can have the connoisseur's pleasure of being able to distinguish the copycats from the originals.
Star foolishly thought that these might be very considerate rapists as they put on condoms and squirted an oily liquid on them to lubricate.
The rapist in front of her dropped the ice pick and grabbed her slim wrists, grinning hugely. Star felt her bare buttocks parted. Her eyes grew huge as the choke rope was wrapped around her throat from behind. The Tag Team Rapists, in a beautifully co-ordinated and very well practised movement, penetrated Star from back and front, simultaneously opening her fuck hole and ass hole wide.
Star suddenly became very aware that it wasn't a lubricant they had squirted on their condoms.
She opened her mouth to scream and the choke rope pulled tight. Her blue eyes bulged and her pretty pink tongue protruded. The rapists sniggered as their sausages slithered in and out of her burning, swollen love tunnels.
"Do you like the jalapeno hot sauce in your holes, whore? We mixed in a few other chemical irritants to really increase the burn. We like our fuck holes hot and lively."
The Tag Team Rapists, older experienced men, liked taking their time and fully enjoying the moment, grinding their victim pitilessly. As they worked with hard, savage thrusts, the scabs were scraped off the recent wounds inside Star's cunt. The fiery juice coating the plunging condom seeped into her cuts and was rubbed in deep. Star's cunt flamed in incandescent anguish.
"Are you having a good time yet, you scum-sucking, sewer slut?"
Her naked body writhed and squirmed, crushed between the two ravaging rapists. Her big breasts were squashed, and her nipples rubbed hard, against the front rapist's hairy chest. Her bare buttocks rhythmically slapped the backdoor rapist's washboard abdominal muscles.
"Filthy fucking cunt doesn't look too snooty now, does she?"
Foam flecked her ruby lips. Her bloodshot eyes bulged. Every time lovely Star tried to scream, the choke rope tightened and the only sound that emerged was a croaking, gagging rasp. Sensitive, caring men, the Tag Team Rapists were always considerate of the neighbours.
They kept her strangling and squirming for a long, long time, savouring every tremor of her writhing nudity. Her inflamed holes clamped tightly around their plunging penises.
In the fullness of time, they both unloaded and pulled out. Star curled up on the cold concrete floor, sobbing hysterically, both hands clamped in agony over her flaming, grotesquely swollen genitals. The backdoor rapist looked down at her and smirked smugly.
"On TV, the bitch looks like ice wouldn't melt in her mouth. Now she looks like a nicely whipped pussy. Here's a little something to remember us by, since we're taking our DNA evidence with us."
He bent over, jammed a squirt bottle up her nostril and sprayed their special jalapeno hot sauce formula up her nose. Star's pretty head exploded in agony. She coughed and sneezed, rolling on the floor helplessly, her eyes watering as the powerful irritant ignited her sinuses.
"Have a nice day, cunt."
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