Chapter VI Debasement
"Get in the back seat. You'll sit in the middle."
As Carol climbed into the back seat of her Camry, Miss Karen tossed her heeled
sandals onto the floor in the back seat before throwing her gymbag onto the
front passenger seat and climbing in. She activated the automatic garage door
opener and started the car before turning around to look Carol in the eyes.
"Spread your legs so your feet are touching either side of the car, and put your
hands behind the small of your back." She didn't pause for a reaction.
"Yes, Miss Karen." It wasn't until she had heard the garage door begin to open
that Carol had started to experience a great deal of anxiety. It was bad enough
to have been slapped around, stripped, bound, and tormented behind closed doors.
But, this t-shirt she had on was barely long enough to cover the bottom of her
breasts. Along with the shorts, and the way her ass was hanging out of them,
she would look every bit the slut that she had been called all evening. She
knew she looked awful, and the heels on the floor, if she had to put them on in
this outfit, well...Oh, God.
Miss Karen was backing the car down the driveway now. "Slide forward a bit so I
can reach you while I'm driving.", she ordered.
"Yes, Miss Karen." Carol replied. Her voice was quavering. She slid forward
until she was sitting on the front edge of the middle of the back seat. It was
not at all comfortable, and her t-shirt was riding higher on her breasts. This
was the only time she really appreciated that she had gotten the privacy window
option on the Camry. Not that it prevented anyone and everyone from seeing her
in this predicament, but it was at least something.
Karen noticed the increased nervousness, but knew it would take little more than
a few strokes to get the slut's mind back on her hungry pussy and the hope of an
orgasm. Either that or a couple of slaps. She would simply have to find a way
to cope. That's all there was to it.
Carol noted that Miss Karen seemed to know the area quite well. She had not
seen any activity around the house next door in so long that she assumed the old
couple who had owned it had skipped visiting that past winter. But, it must
have sold. It was always so well maintained though. Whatever. Her neighbor
knew her way around.
After about ten minutes they pulled into a sleazy strip mall and pulled up to
the curb in front of a thrift store operated by a charity. Karen shut the car
off and got out, leaving the windows up. It wouldn't hurt the slut to sweat a
bit more. It was still oppressively hot, especially after being in a car with
such cold air conditioning for a while. Karen opened the trunk and removed the
bags of discarded clothes that had belonged to the slut and her husband. She
carried them through the doors and placed them in a neat row next to the check
out counter. It took her three trips to get them all into the store.
Carol watched in frustration. She knew those bags contained her husband's
clothes. She was fixated on her concern as to what she would ever be able to
say to explain what happened to them. She couldn't believe this was happening.
Why in the world would Miss Karen do this? Only a small, foolish part of her
told her to get out and have a discussion about this. Prudence kept her
silently in place, sweating profusely in the heat while lewdly displayed in her
own back seat. She glanced around, thankful that it was nearly closing time
and there were few customers in the plaza.
Karen patiently waited while the large black woman operating the register filled
out her receipt, in the name of Carol Sizemore, for the bags of miscellaneous
clothing. Such things came in handy at tax time. Karen might have another use
for the receipt, though. She returned to the Camry only to place the receipt
in the gymbag, get some cash out and to retrieve the slut. "Get out. It's
time to do some shopping."
Carol told herself that it took considerable courage to get out of the car.
Whether it was out of fear of crossing Miss Karen, having her affair exposed and
life ruined, or the simple desire to follow orders, Carol managed to get out
without objecting or breaking down in some way. When she tried to pull the
shorts down over her butt her hand was slapped away. "Keep your fucking hands
at your sides!", Karen hissed. The black woman looked out at them blandly.
Carol followed Miss Karen into the store, carefully keeping pace with her from
two steps behind. Completely embarassed to be dressed this way in public, she
kept her eyes riveted to Miss Karen's ass. "Stoah closin in ten minute.", the
black woman warned as they passed her. They made their way to the women's
clothing section.
Carol had always been a great dresser. She wouldn't be caught dead in a thrift
store, let alone wearing anything from one. All of her clothes, at least those
that were just then in a heap on her garage floor, were designer or brand name
items. She had no idea why they were there until Miss Karen next spoke.
"I'm guessing you're a size six. Is that right, slut?"
Carol's heart seemed to drop all the way to her feet. Miss Karen had called her
"slut" loud enough for the cashier to hear.
"Yes, Miss Karen.", she whispered.
Karen was browsing through the size six skirt section. "What? I couldn't hear
you.", she said.
"Yes, Miss Karen.", Carol answered a bit more loudly.
Karen quickly stepped to her left, placing her face inches in front of the
slut's while taking a firm hold on her right nipple. Pinching it roughly, she
quietly but intently said, "One more mistake and you are toast. Do you get the
meaning of that?"
Tears welling up in her eyes, Carol answered clearly, "Yes, Miss Karen." The
cashier was listening and doing a poor job of pretending not to be.
Karen returned to browsing. She pulled a black skirt off the rack and held it
up to the slut's waist. It was suitably frumpy, so she put it in the slut's
hands and moved over to the blouse rack. After looking for just a few seconds,
she found a thin white polyester blouse with a wide collar and quarter length
sleeves. It buttoned down the front.
Carol could see a cigarette burn on one of the sleeves and a stain on the
collar. It, too was handed to her. Miss Karen gave her a five dollar bill and
told her to go pay for the items and to meet her at the car. Carol tried wiping
away her tears before reluctantly making her way to the cashier. What had she
been reduced to?
The cashier looked at her with a mild expression of contempt on her face. She
had probably seen it all, Carol thought. The fact that Carol was getting any
reaction at all must mean that she really did look like a complete slut. She
felt herself blushing as she stepped up to the counter. "Dat be all?", the
cashier asked, looking her level in the eyes. Carol glanced around. "Uh,
yes.", she replied shakily. The cashier rang the items in and Carol gave her
the five dollars. As the change was being handed to her, the cashier spoke
slowly, as though she wanted to make an important point. "Yo life on da wrong
track, girl. Yo needs to get raght wit God."
"Tell me about it.", Carol thought.
Miss Karen had her toss the skirt and blouse into the trunk, surrender the
change from the purchase, then get back into the car. They drove a few blocks
further into one of the worst parts of town before pulling into the lot of an
adult video emporium. Miss Karen pulled Carol's credit card out of the gymbag
and handed it to her. "Go in and buy three buttplugs; small, medium, and large.
Then choose five movies featuring interracial sex - black men and white women.
Be sure to bring me the receipt. Ta Ta!" She turned and began fiddling with
the radio.
The parking lot was nearly full, and this was a dangerous part of town. Carol's
heart was thumping so heavily in her chest that she thought she could hear it.
She was not telling herself she was brave this time. She was just plain scared
to death. She had never been in such a place. She had never been in this part
of the city.
She slowly stood, closing the door behind her. She heard Miss Karen click the
automatic doorlocks to the locked position before cranking the stereo. The only
way to do this, Carol thought, was to do it quickly and get it over with.
To say that she attracted attention when she passed through the door would be an
understatement. She became the main attraction. White women simply didn't
visit the store, especially white women that were dressed to fuck. There were
eight men in the store, along with the clerk. All of them were looking her over
quite blatantly as she stood frozen just inside the door. Finally, the clerk,
an older man with a raspy voice and a huge head, said, "C'mon in an visit a
while, girl. We's all fammy heah." A couple of the men snickered. A younger
man who looked to Carol like a gang member was a bit more blatant. He strode
menacingly toward her, saying, "Show me dem tits, bitch."
Carol nearly panicked. She quickly considered running out the door, but thought
if she moved fast it would cause the man now standing in front of her to react
in a way that might not be best for her. "Please. I, ah...I just need to buy a
few things.", she stammered. Some of the men laughed at her.
"Oh. You buyin nah. Ah see.", the man in front of her replied, grabbing his
crotch. "How much you wanna pay for dis big black man meat raht heah?"
All of the men burst out laughing as though he had said the most hilarious thing
they had ever heard. Carol didn't know what to do. She looked across the room
and saw a variety of butt plugs hanging on a wall display. She decided to try
ignoring them, and stepped around the man blocking her path. He slapped her ass
as she passed him. The others made room for her to walk between them, but they
hadn't seen the need to keep their hands to themselves. She wasn't so much
fondled as she was groped at as she passed through them to the display.
"Look Donnie!", one of the men exclaimed. "Bitch take it up de ass. Lookathat!"
Carol took three different sizes of plugs off the wall and moved quickly to the
right where the movies were displayed. It wasn't at all difficult to find five
videos that met Miss Karen's criteria. The store obviously catered to black
men, and having sex with white women was one of their leading fantasies, Carol
knew. The first movie she took down was entitled, "Gang Bang Bitch". The cover
was composed of a photograph of a young white girl being forced to have anal sex
in a room full of black men. Something clicked inside Carol. It wasn't some
sort of epiphany, or a bright flash of enlightenment. It was more a sense of
resignation. Seeing the movie cover triggered one of her darkest fantasies.
She realized her pussy was gushing and her erect nipples were lifting what
little fabric covered them.
Now she was in a kind of daze, pulling down the remaining four movies with
little thought, carrying them to the counter and placing everything there,
turning to face the gathering of men who were gazing hungrily at her, and simply
lifting up the front of her cut-off t-shirt to fully expose her breasts to them.
She closed her eyes and licked her lips as the cacaphony of lewd comments washed
over her.
"Looka dem nips!"
"Jesus H. Donnie!"
"Sweet Jesus what a fine bitch!"
"Bitch want fucked!"
She heard the door being latched. The overhead lights were flipped off, but a
small lamp near the cash register provided some light. The younger, scary man
took her by the wrist and pulled her toward the back of the store. The others
followed. Carol looked back to see the clerk glancing out the window before
following along. Someone took her credit card out of her hand. She was pulled
through a doorway into storage room that smelled of spilled beer and urine.
Hands covered her entire body, pinching, rubbing, poking, and pulling at her
little shorts and her shirt. Foul fingers slid between her lips, and she sucked
them in all their Kool menthol nicotine nastiness. Her shirt was lifted over
her head and tossed aside. Her shorts were roughly pushed down around her
ankles and pulled off. She had no idea where they were thrown, because she was
already being lifted onto a table, pushed down onto her back. Her knees were
lifted and spread, her body pulled back until her head hung free over the edge.
They were talking all the while.
"Lissin ta the bitch purrin like a kitty!"
"Pussy wet over heah, JayJay!"
"Yessir. Bald white pussy!"
"Ah sees dat. Looka dem titties!"
She winced as her nipples were pinched and twisted. They were still sore.
Someone cradled the back of her neck. She opened her eyes momentarily, just in
time to see a beautiful black cock being moved closer toward her lips. She
opened willingly, fully. She looked beyond the cock, straining her eyes to see
higher. What looked back was a video camera. Her body tensed. "Yo calm down,
bitch. We wanna watch you fuckin us later. Keep us outta jail too, right
boys?"
All of the men laughed again. There would be no denying she was there
willingly. There could be no claim of rape now. All of the desire Miss Karen
had built up in her over the past few hours had put her here. She was
responsible for this, not Carol. Carol hadn't put herself in this position.
Now in it, that she would take advantage of it by having her desires sated, her
fantasy fulfilled, was clear. Why not? Why not give in to it? It was rape, in
a way. She hadn't set out to have this happen. It was not her intent.
The rationalizations flashed by between the realization there was a video camera
focused on her and the passage of the hard cock between her lips. It moved
slowly but forcefully in, all the way to the back of her throat. The heavy
balls rested against the top of her forehead. She guessed there was another six
inches of shaft remaining outside her lips, but before she could reach for it
her hands were guided to other cocks on either side of her. She took hold of
them eagerly, beginning to stroke them in an alternating rhythm that did as much
to prove that she was deeply into this game as her primal moaning.
One of them pushed down on her knees, spreading them so widely her thigh muscles
stretched to their limits. She couldn't see who was there or what was
happening, but someone was about to fuck her. Thick, warm lips were on her
nipples, biting and sucking. Someone clumsily flipped her clit back and forth
with a large finger or thumb. It was maddeningly pleasurable, and caused her
hips to come into motion. The cock in her mouth held her captive. Lips
distended around it's impressive girth, she could do nothing with it as her
tongue was pressed flat against the underside while the cameraman it was
attached to held it firmly in place.
She felt her pussy lips being pulled open as another cock was fed into her.
This one she knew to be as big as Ralph's by the way it felt. The man there
pushed the head through slowly before withdrawing out of her. "Looka dat!", he
exclaimed, "Bitch's cunt all wet. She lovin it!"
"Howsabout you shuttup and git ta fuckin it, Big Johnson. We all is waitin our
turn boy. Ain got all night.".
With that he replaced his cock at her pussy and pushed in, once again, until
just the head was inside her. "Bitch can take a big black man, nah. Bitch can
take it see." Some of the others replied affirmatively. "Push it in an we'll
see. Go on."
As he began to push into her she realized he was even bigger than Ralph. She
had never tired of being completely filled by his wonderful ten inch cock. She
could never get enough of it. This one was larger, and it kept pushing slowly
forward, ever deeper into her hot, clinging pussy.
The man whose penis was in her mouth now began to fuck her with slight movements
to the back and forward again, always threatening to trigger her gag reflex as
he pushed against the back of her throat. The cocks in either hand were rock
hard and impressively sized as well. She could feel her arms burning from the
constant stroking she was maintaining.
Suddenly, as though it had been coordinated, both cocks that were penetrating
her were ruthlessly thrust forward. The one in her pussy reached her cervix and
entered parts of her that had never been reached before. It was in to the hilt,
and the momentary spasm of pain would pass quickly, Carol knew. The one in her
mouth was an entirely different situation, however. As it pushed into her
throat, she was able to successfully, if temporarily, stop it by pushing her
tongue up and trying to constrict her throat. She was gagging when renewed
effort pushed it past those minor obstructions and directly into and down her
throat passage. Her entire body bucked involuntarily as her breathing was cut
off and the searing pain in her throat made her forget everything else. She let
go of the cocks in her hands and was able to vainly thrash around for only a
few seconds before being pinned down. The balls were now dangling down on
either side of her upturned nose as the man thrust fully into her throat and
held himself there for a few seconds as though to establish just what sort of a
position she was really in.
The cock in her pussy was now pistoning in and out of her at a rapid pace. The
long, brutal strokes were hitting home with an impact that produced an audible
smacking noise each time the man's balls slapped her ass. She was literally
impaled at both ends.
After what seemed an eternity but was only a few seconds, she felt the cock in
her throat withdrawing slowly outward, pursued by the bile that was rising out
of her stomach in response. When the head had slipped back past the base of her
tongue she vomited out and around the cock, the nasty, burning liquid running
down her nose and over her face into her hair. He held himself there to allow
her time to heave a few more times and to take a couple of breaths. One of them
said, "Ain nobody ever teach the ho ta deep throat, but she'll learn!"
Her whole body was jerking with each thrust of the man who was fucking her cunt.
The cock in her mouth again pressed forward until it was poised for another
entry into her throat. Trying to breath through her nose, she whimpered loudly,
trying to beg him not to do it to her again. To no avail, though. Again, her
throat was distended to accept the forced passage of the long cock. She gagged
and her body jumped involuntarily again as she felt the balls sliding up over
her forehead to find their home pressing against her eyeballs this time. She
retched again as it was withdrawn, then struggled for air. "Damn! I ain never
seen a bitch neck stretch out like dat, Donnie!", one of them said. "Me
neiver." , was the reply.
She was now being fucked in her pussy with abandon, and knew the man there was
close to getting his satisfaction. She wished her attention could be fully on
what still did feel like a wonderful fucking there, but her natural instinct was
to focus on where she was going to get her next breath. Now the man was pushing
down her throat again, and had begun fucking her as though her mouth were a
pussy. He would push in, stroke in and out several times, then back out to
allow her to breath before repeating his merciless thrusting. She had stopped
gagging and was thankful for that, but the burning pain in her throat made her
wonder if she would ever be able to talk again. She knew she was taking at
least ten inches on both ends of her body. Her fantasy hadn't involved this
sort of misery.
The man fucking her pussy grabbed her hips and thrust into her one final time.
With a loud groan, he spasmed and shot jets of his ghetto seed deeply into
Carol. The man fucking her mouth seemed to be getting close as well. He seemed
to have forgotten about her need to breath and was continuing long strokes down
her throat without pause. She felt his balls tighten on her face as he shoved
himself fully into her before exploding directly into her throat with a few
animalistic grunts. The two of them exchanged hand slaps before withdrawing
simultaneously from both ends. "God damn!" someone said.
Hands pushed down on her to ensure she had no thoughts of getting up while new
cocks were presented to her mouth and pussy. Her own hands were guided back to
hard cocks on either side of her that needed attention. Her nipples felt
distended and sore, but deliciously aroused from the continuous abuse they were
getting.
Carol stayed on that table for the next thirty minutes, being used as a
convenient fuck toy for the clientele of the local black adult video store.
Most of the remaining men opted to deposit their jism on her body rather than in
it. The exception was the younger man who looked like he was a gang member. He
opted to use Carol in the most debasing way a black man can, by fucking her in
the ass. His seed was left deep within her bowels.
When the last man had carefully shot his semen onto her face and in her hair,
she was dragged off the table and onto the floor. The clerk kicked her shirt
and shorts at her and told her to "Get da fuck out." Most of the other men had
drifted away while she had still been on the table.
Carol dressed slowly, in a daze. It wasn't that she had that much to pull on,
she was simply out of it. She had been thoroughly fucked and otherwise abused.
She didn't know if Miss Karen would still be waiting, or what. She thought
about the movies and the butt plugs she had been expected to buy, and decided
she still had to follow through with that, although it seemed somehow that she
had been a different person then. She remembered the credit card being taken.
As she stumbled out of the storage room and toward the door, she saw that the
clerk had bagged her items and was holding out he credit card for her to take.
"Receep is in da bag.", he said flatly.
As each man left the temporarily closed store, he had passed next to Karen in
the slut's car and paid her the twenty dollars each had agreed to pay to fuck
her. She had loaned the video camera to one of them in exchange for his getting
to use the slut for free if he shot a movie of the entire thing. She hadn't
charged the clerk either, as he was taking a risk with his job in allowing it
all to happen.
When the slut finally came wandering out and got into the back of the car, she
at least remembered her position and assume it, if a bit slowly. Karen made a
point of counting out the one hundred and twenty dollars the slut had just made,
but didn't bother to explain it. She turned toward her well used former
neighbor and asked what took her so long.
"This slut was...raped by those men in there, Miss Karen."
"Well, that's no surprise. What'd you expect going into a place like that
dressed like such a slut?", Karen replied innocently. "You're a wreck!"
Carol didn't respond, other than to begin sobbing.
Karen next drove to a large warehouse club where she knew the slut had a
membership. Digging into the gymbag, she produced the membership card and
flipped it into the back seat. "On aisle sixteen there is a large animal cage,
like for a great dane or something. Buy it with your credit card. Get some
help to load it. We'll have to haul it back with the trunk open. They'll tie
it down for you."
Carol sat in disbelief. She had just been fucked by eight men. She wasn't
going anywhere. She wasn't buying a dog cage for this bitch. She wasn't...
Miss Karen was holding up a cellphone as though she were about to dial a number.
"What was that number? Let's see, seven one two, four seven three, eight,
five..."
It was Carol's mother's phone number. "Wait!", she shouted. "I'll go...I mean.
I'm sorry. This slut will go, Miss Karen. Please don't call my mother!" She
was crying openly now, breaking down even further.
Karen flipped the cellphone closed and began looking at the movies Carol had
chosen at the video store as the slut climbed out of the car and made her way
across the parking lot toward the store. Karen had intentionally parked some
distance away to maximize the slut's exposure. She had borne up exceptionally
well after being so thoroughly used. That was good. Only one more stop after
this one, and then home for more fun and games.
Carol felt completely hopeless as she crossed the huge parking lot. She knew
she was attracting attention. Women looked at her with contempt. Daddies tried
to shield their kids from seeing her. She was dirt. Just a whore. She had no
business being in public looking the way she did. She sniffled and wiped away
her tears. She could've kept crying, but it would only have made her more
conspicuous. Tried to run her fingers through her hair in a vain attempt to
improve her appearance a bit. Instead, she found her fingers entangled in the
matted, gooey mess. She smelled. She felt and looked disgusting.
Karen knew the store an it's interior layout. She watched closely as the slut
entered, showed her membership card, then walked off to the left where the
restrooms were rather than directly into the store toward aisle sixteen. That
was expected. The stupid bitch was sloppy at remembering her instructions and
would be corrected soon enough. Karen found it amusing that the slut never
questioned why she was buying a cage. She either thought nothing of it or knew
it was for her and opted not to object. It was the trauma of having to walk
around in public in the condition she was in that made her rebel. Rebellion
was good if it led to better control. Before long the subject would be on
autopilot in terms of following instructions and the need to coerce her would
dissipate.
About fifteen minutes passed before the slut reappeared in front of the store
with an employee pushing the cage on a cart. The slut waved in Karen's
direction, but she opted to leave her exposed for a few seconds longer before
starting the car. As Karen pulled up she could see that the slut had washed her
hair out in the restroom sink. She had managed to clean herself up quite a bit,
but she still had that well fucked look about her. The poor boy helping the
slut had an erection that he couldn't find a way to hide.
Karen pulled up in front of them and popped the trunk lid. The slut helped the
boy load the cage into the trunk with some difficulty. It would only fit in on
one end, leaving half of it hanging out. The boy took some twine and tied the
trunk lid down to keep the cage from falling out.
Carol thanked him nicely. He was effusive in his thanks of Carol for
patronizing his employer. When she tried to open the right rear door to climb
into the back of her car, Miss Karen lowered that window instead and told Carol
to get the boy's phone number. She said she thought he might have a crush on
her. Carol flushed at the thought of doing it, but she had to. Turning quickly
to try to get to him before he reentered the store, she called out loudly to
stop him. Several people in the lot looked at her as though she were a sideshow
freak. The boy stammered out his phone number, feeling like the stroke of luck
he had just then would never be matched in his entire life.
Carol was thankful that when she returned to the car she was able to enter it.
Miss Karen took the receipt, the membership card, and the credit card from her.
Carol assumed her position in the back seat as Miss Karen wordlessly pulled out
of the parking lot and back onto Palmetto Boulevard, heading in the direction of
home.
Miss Karen adjusted the mirror so that it reflected Carol rather than the
traffic behind the car. "Pull your shirt up over your breasts, slut.", she said
evenly, as though she were making a comment about the weather.
Carol was too exhausted to protest, so simply rolled the cut off t-shirt up as
far as the neckline and returned her hands to the small of her back. Her
nipples always betrayed her. They had been hard for hours now. They throbbed.
They had never endured so much abuse before. She wanted to take a long, hot
bath. She needed a drink. She felt much better after she had peed and
freshened up back at the warehouse store. Miss Karen hadn't noticed. Who cared
anyway? What was she going to do?
Before Carol realized it, they had parked outside a 24 hour Walmart near her
home and Miss Karen was ordering her to change into her heels and get out of the
car. The last thing Carol needed was yet another public display. Somebody who
knew her would see her if this kept up. Not that they would recognize her, but
they might. At least Miss Karen was getting out, too. Carol smoothed the
t-shirt out over her breasts so that she would not be exposed as she got out of
the car. Miss Karen locked the car and strode off at a quick pace toward the
store. Carol couldn't keep up easily, and her breasts were bouncing beneath the
thin fabric of her shirt as they crossed the lot. She pulled her shorts down a
bit to cover her exposed ass, sure that Miss Karen wouldn't notice now that her
back was turned.
They made their way to the pet department, then found the section where the dog
collars were displayed. Despite what she had been through, Carol was mortified
when Miss Karen began fitting different dog collars around her neck. It was
surrealistic, Carol thought, that she was standing dressed as she was in a
Walmart pet department while this woman casually fitted her for a collar. Carol
was ashamed when she noticed the first stirrings within her that she knew led to
hard nipples and a wet pussy. She was quietly seething inside, angry that her
body would betray her.
Karen chose a few nice collars. One was a simple black leather one with a nice
wide band, another was red nylon, and the third was a simple choke collar. She
then fitted the slut for smaller black leather collars that she would use as
wrist and ankle restraints, and chose a couple that would fit well just above
her knees. She then found a couple of large metal dog bowls. Handing all of the
collars and bowls to the slut to carry, Karen moved along to the health and
beauty aids department, where she chose the first box of platinum blonde hair
coloring she came across. Next she found a creme hair dipilatory and an
enema/douche combo kit. Finally they went to the hardware department and picked
up a length of chain and a chain cutting tool, as well as several padlocks. By
then the slut had her hands full, so Karen flipped the credit card into one of
the bowls and told her to go check out.
Carol jiggled her way in the high heeled sandals to the check out counter as
Miss Karen left the store. Carol's pussy was soaked and her nipples were again
causing the material of her cut off t-shirt to tent at just the point where each
breast peaked. She was beginning to feel like a slut, she thought. It was not
a choice, but rather something that was happening to her. The memory of those
men using her as they did kept flashing into her mind. The mental images were
horrible, but she found herself replaying them rather than being repelled by
them. Her throat and ass were still very sore from the abuse they had
received, but...she shook her head, willing herself not to dwell on it. She
just needed to get through the next minute or two and get to the car.
Everything would be fine if she could only get back home and have time to sort
things out.
