F Hemmingway - A family saga Volume Two

"You do understand the conditions, don't you?" Pete asked.

"Y-Yes…" Her voice was dull.

"You want a drink…?" Brad asked, pushing a water glass under her nose.

"P-Please… I–I would like to have some water…"

"I'm talking about whiskey…" Brad said.

Whiskey! Perhaps it would help… at least it might dull things a little for her.

"All right… I'll have a drink!" Charity said with decision.

"It'll help…" It was Brad, again; he put an arm under her shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position. Thrusting the glass into her hand, he slopped cheap bourbon into it. "Sorry… no mixer… no ice… just drink it neat!"

She sipped. The fiery liquid burned her throat, and she made a wry face. "UUugh!"

"Come on… drink it down!" Jeff snapped. He took the glass from her, placed it to her lips and tilted it. "Drink it!" he commanded. The raw liquor spilled down her throat, and he would not allow her to stop drinking until the glass was empty.

Charity gasped for breath. It seemed as though her whole insides were seared, and the warmth was beginning to spread through her whole body.

"Ugh! That's h-horrible stuff!"

Pete moved in behind her, his hands going around, under her arms, to capture the fullness of a youthful breast in each callused palm. Purposefully, he kneaded and massaged the soft, smoothness of them, the satiny skin sliding through his hands sensuously. Then, she felt the hairiness of his chest pressed up against her back… and lower down, the hard warmth of his erect penis brushed the small of her back. He was naked! She decided that he must have been undressing while the whiskey was being forced down her… and now, he was squatting or kneeling behind her, fondling her breasts, with his cock, already hardened, shoved up against her warm flesh. She shuddered. It had begun!

Shakily, she asked, "C–Can I–I have another one… before you do it to me?"

"Okay…" Jeff said, dubiously, "but we don't want you to get too swacked to shake that hot little ass of yours, baby!"

The glass was put into her hand, again, an inch of bourbon in it. She raised it to her lips and took a large gulp.

"Take it easy, baby!" Matt warned. "That's pretty powerful stuff… if you're not used to it."

Charity looked down at him where he sat, near her feet, his hands busy moving up and down the smooth, soft columns of her thighs. She said, "I–I need s-something strong…"

They watched her as she drank, sipping now, and letting the searing liquid slide down her throat. She hated it… but she wanted to be completely numb. When she finished the last drop, Jeff took the glass from her hand; Pete, behind her, laid her down on the soft mattress and slithered down beside her. Instantly, he sought for and captured her mouth with his, his tongue bursting through her lips to slide deeply into her throat. Strangely, and perhaps because of the helplessness of her position, she found herself responding to him, her own tongue lashing out to joust with his. One of his hands caressed her full-mounding breast, rolling the pink bud of her nipple between his fingers until it speared out hard, the areola puckering up at its base.

Then, Brad, who had rapidly stripped himself naked, stretched out on the other side of her, his warm body snuggling close, and she felt the hard rod of his prick press up tight against her smooth, white thigh. It seemed to be the twin, massive and long, of Pete's whose hardened cock pressed hard against the other thigh. Now, Brad's mouth was on her other breast, sucking and nibbling, voraciously, drawing the nipple and the areola completely into his mouth.

The liquor in her bloodstream began to spread its warmth through her body, the searing heat of it seeming to concentrate in her loins where tiny, tingling thrills of unwanted sexual excitation had begun to play a game of erotic leapfrog. An uncontrollable moan escaped her lips. She had to face the inevitable: even though she was being subjected to these rapacious outrages against her body, she was helpless to stop them, in the first place, and in the second instance, she was responding to them, against her will. She had hoped that the alcohol would numb her to the point where she could go through with it… but not be a part of it. It was hopeless. Her body was responding just as it had with Gabe… and with her brother and his friend, Ray Donahue.

Matt's voice came to her, from a distance; she looked up to see him, standing near her feet, stepping out of his pants. His erection lanced out through the fly of his shorts. He stripped them off, and his lust-inflated member stood out at an acute angle from his hairy loins, the sperm-filled scrotum swinging, heavily, below. "Christ… I've got to get my mouth on that sweet little cunt!" he grunted, dropping to his knees.

Then, she watched, horrified, as he pulled her knees up, flexing them, his hands going down her soft, inner thighs, forcing them to splay apart. Briefly, she resisted him, trying to keep her knees together, but he growled, "Goddamn it! Open your legs, bitch! If I have to…"

He didn't have to finish his threat. Charity knew — although she had not been mistreated, yet — that if she did resist, they would not hesitate to beat her, unmercifully. It was there in their powerful, hulking bodies… and in the fact they had carried out their planned rape… drugging her and bringing her to this motel room. She had no idea of where she was. The thing uppermost in her mind was to do what she must, without risking the possibility of being hurt, seriously. She allowed her legs, then, to be spread apart, slowly, and she heard his gasp and the wash of his warm breath over the sensitive flesh of her now widely exposed vaginal slit.

She could feel the moisture as it gathered there, exuding from the nearly aroused walls of her softly palpitating cunt. Then, his long, wet tongue taunted at the opening, at the tiny bearded mouth of her passage, for a long moment before he plunged it into her searing depths. Wildly, he moved it in and out, duplicating the motion of Pete's tongue in her mouth. She moaned, involuntarily, and sucked on the long lingual member that raced in and out of her throat so hungrily.

Shifting upward, then, Matt's lips nibbled their way through the searing, coraline flesh to find the tiny, erect miniature phallus, hiding in its folds of flesh, the sparse, pubic hair parting as his tongue pressured into it, tantalizingly.

Both Pete and Brad could feel the deep shock of it in her. The sparking are was grounded in her sensitive loins, the surge of it causing her to writhe her buttocks down and away from the erotic, super-charged sensations. In an instant, unconsciously, uncontrollably, her now fully aroused cunt moved, undulantly, up to Matt's plundering mouth.

"Oh… OOoohh… OOOooohhh!" she moaned into Pete's mouth.

Exquisite sensations multiplied themselves in her, and she could do nothing to stop them. The alcohol she had absorbed had not deadened the nerve ends of her body to them; if anything, she was more alive to their manipulations. She savored Pete's tongue in her mouth and his hand that roamed over her body, returning always to a breast, fondling and caressing it, the taut, smooth roundness of it satiny in his hand, the nipple spoked out pertly into his palm.

At the other breast, Brad still nibbled and sucked, unceasingly, at that nipple, his hand, too, smoothing down across her flat belly to caress the lesser mound just above Matt's licking, sucking mouth.

… And, now, Matt took the throbbing, erectile clitoris into his teeth, holding it, lightly, while his tongue danced in a circle directly on the tiny head of her throbbingly alive female bud.

The sensations generated in her aroused body was almost more than she could stand. Her naked, exposed genitals rose up to the tantalizing mouth, and she groped with both hands down to the center of her sexual being, searching for and finding Matt's head. She took hold of his hair and pulled his face tight up to her needful, sensation-filled cunt.