Paul Gable - Daughter degraded

"Come on, baby, come to me."

Then suddenly he moved back, hitting her between her shoulderblades. The pain made Cindy flatten herself on the floor, her arms and legs sprawling out as she let out a sharp squawk.

"Get a shot of this!"

With that Jack raised his right foot and placed the heel on the back of her neck. For a while Cindy thought he was going to kill her, snap her neck with his foot. She could hear the camera snapping like mad behind her, could hear Joe laughing, could hear that naked raped brunette moaning with horror on the couch.

Then the pressure was off. Cindy coughed, sucking in air, her face turning red as she pushed the heels of her palms hard against the floor and raised herself up. Shaking stray strands of her hair from her eyes, she looked up at the men. God, how she hated them!

"Good show, bitch, good show. Come on, we gotta let 'em go and get the fuck outta here. We move around, baby, move around. Lots of these old homes around to get into for a while. Hey, maybe we'll get your address," Jack added, smiling savagely at her. "Bet you'd like to see how some of the prints came out."

"Oh God, no, no, no!" she moaned, hiding her face in her hands.

It would be the last thing she wanted to see. Feeling the cum running from her slackening cunt, Cindy sobbed uncontrollably. Someone had thrown her her torn blouse and skirt. Now she was struck with terror, the fear of what she was going to tell her mother.

Back home Rhoda was fighting off Brad. He had dressed and was starting to leave. The woman had wrapped a gown around her lithe body, wishing with one part of her mind that he would go and hoping with another part he would stay. Her daughter was the only thing keeping her sane right now. The police had just called with nothing new to report. They were, it seemed, starting to sound worded.

"Don't!"

Brad was on her again, his big hands rubbing over her buttocks, his groin bunching against hers. She felt him pressing into her body, felt his hot breath against the side of her neck. Was he going to tie her up again, slap her around? The thought made her heart skip a beat.

"You want it bad, you…"

"What was that?"

Rhoda pulled away, hearing a soft knocking at the door. Rushing forward, Rhoda pulled the door open and found Cindy leaning against the molding, the sound of a vehicle squealing down the street.

"Cindy!"

Her daughter was in torn clothing, her cheeks streaked with dirt, tears.

"They… they raped… raped me… they…" she stammered, stumbling into her mother's arms.

"Oh my God, God, get out of here!" Rhoda screamed at Brad.

"I'll call tomorrow," he muttered, brushing past the two sobbing women.

"Inside, inside," Rhoda whispered, pushing the door shut and locking it. She pulled her half hysterical daughter into the living room and sat on the sofa.

"Oh, Mother, they did… awful things to me, they…"

"Shhh, hush, that's all right. You can talk later. Now you're safe at home, safe…"

Her mother's words were comforting, after having endured the sarcasm and insults from those three sadists.

"Oh, Cindy, don't worry, no man's going to hurt you, to touch you again."

Cindy sighed, clinging to her mother.

"The police?" Cindy asked, turning her reddened eyes up.

"Yes, of course," Rhoda said, getting up and starting for the phone. She stopped, her hand on the receiver. Her lips were curling up just for an instant. She caught herself and became serious again. No, she doubted Brad would be calling tonight.

Too bad, Rhoda thought as she picked up the receiver and dialed the police.