J Long - Motel peeper

She couldn't believe what was in her hands!

Cocks were so hot… and so greasy… and so throbby! God! No! She didn't want to hold their pricks! She didn't want to suck and fuck! She was a virgin – in her cunt, her mouth, even her hands.

"Stop it! Oh, please! I've never touched one before! Please!"

Ferris farted. "Ah, don't give us that bullshit. Mrs. Manly said the same thing when we went over there two hours ago. And she ended up fucking and sucking us three times over. Shit we know you can do better than that!"

Mrs. Manly? Not the Reverend Manly's beautiful wife Elsa? She touched cocks? With pious hands?

Prudence shook her head, didn't want to hear about how Mrs. Manly had been touched by those devilish cocks.

Ferris grabbed her hand and forced it against his cock. "There, came on. We know you're going to like it when we beg for you to suck our pricks. We'll even let you suck us one at a time instead of two at once. Is that okay with you, Harvey?"

Harvey's eyes were glazed with lust. "Shit, yeah! And, if Ferris'll promise not to come in your mouth, Miss Meeker, I'll promise the same. So how's about it – you want to suck first before we fuck?"

Prudence's eyes widened fearfully. No way! No how! No! No! She hadn't agreed to anything yet! She hadn't even agreed to touch their pricks – she had been forced to do that. Hadn't she?

Oh God, confusion reigned over tenor now. Her mind was amok. Her emotions were in a turmoil. She was being raped… wasn't she? Or was it rape if a girl didn't resist? But she was clearly outnumbered, two cocks to none. It wasn't fair! Nothing was fair about this stupid obscene thing these boys were doing to her. Why, they weren't even raping her yet… or were they?

Had Hiram Shingles been writing about this scene, he might have written that Prudence Meeker's hands moved of their own confusing accord as she manipulated the two vengeful cocks with the aid of her rapists.

But, nether of her own accord or not, Ferris and Harvey were doing a pretty good job of making sure that Prudence's hands were filled with their hot and vengeful pricks.

Ferris got tired of fucking Prudence's fist. "I'm tired of fucking your fist. Don't you think it's time we got that blowjob you promised, Miss Meeker?"

Prudence's knees weakened from the amok and confusion. She collapsed to the floor in a prayerful stance, looking at her half-rapists with baleful, begging eyes.

"Jesus!" Harvey exclaimed, ditching his pants. "She's sure a hot-looking bitch! Look at her just kneeling down begging for cock. All right, don't wet your panties, Miss Meeker, me and Ferris'll be with you in two seconds."

Two seconds was a snap of the old belt buckles and a drop of the scungy Levi's.

Two seconds for Prudence Meeker, however, was like two years of twenty-four-hour fear. Her limbs were shaking like a quaking birch tree.

And she did wet her panties, not with cum. Because that's how frightened she was of the predicament she was in.

"Holy shit!" Ferris shouted. "Look at that cunt! Oh baby! Are you some hot bitch! Shit, Harvey! Look at that fucking puddle under her panties!"

Harvey had to look twice before, he, too, agreed with Ferris that Miss Meeker had a clear case of hot panties. "Oh shit, Miss Meeker," he said in an apologetic voice. "Maybe we ought to get right down to the fucking, being as you're so hot and bothered."

Prudence had her hands clasped in front of her – prayerfully. She looked from one evil boy to the other. She was trembling so bad and shivering so bad and crying so bad that even a blind man would have interpreted her actions as being something only a bitch in heat would do.

Prudence tried to find her voice, but it felt as if it had slipped down to her belly. She tried to bring it up – gagged twice.

How could this be happening? Those evil boys had forced her to touch their filthy pricks. They had given her a choice about sucking first, the fucking second. But now they were already skipping the first step to get to the second. No! It wasn't fair! She had some right in this… this awful, degrading scene. Didn't she?

"You're pretty fucking degrading," Ferris mumbled, popping some chewing gum into his mouth. "I mean, here me and Harvey was thinking that we'd have to rape the shit out of you just to get you hot for a fucking. Jesus! But you ain't no challenge!"

Harvey patted Prudence's head. "Come on, Ferris. Shit, you know some women can't help it. So all right, maybe Ms. Manly didn't like it when we tied her up and fucked her asshole. Shit, not every woman's like the reverend's wife. She's just an exception."

Prudence shook her head, tried to get the muddled meaning of their evil conversation out of her mind.

This was crazy! She wasn't a loose woman! She had to be tied up to be raped! This rape was fair – they were making her so confused that she didn't know whether she was being raped or coerced or acting of willful mind.

Harvey was just about to lift Prudence Meeker to her feet and guide her over to the children's nursery-rhyme table and fuck the shit out of her when Prudence found her voice. Her banshee voice.

"This isn't fair! Rape me – just like Ms. Manly! You can't do this to me! This is sooooooo humiliating."

Ferris was aghast.

Harvey farted.

Had they heard right? No woman with common sense would ask two assholes like themselves to rape her – would she?

Harvey shrugged his shoulders. "Go get the ropes, Ferris."

Elsa Manly was in room six of the Sleepwell Motel.

To put it literally, she was fit to be tied. What made her feel fit to be tied was something called manila and something called hemp.

She was not in the most comfortable of positions. Unless being naked and bent like a pretzel could be called comfortable.

Elsa was also filled with agony. Which is also a critical sign of discomfort. Brim full of agony.

First of all, her asshole hurt because it had been a discomforting sensation to have a banana jammed, lengthwise, of course, into her most private place.

Second, her cunt hurt because it had been a discomforting sensation to have to eat a twelve-inch, average-sized carrot with the wrong orifice – or hole, if you don't know what an orifice is – which anatomically speaking, is where either shit or piss or bullshit comes out of.

Third, her tits hurt because it had been a discomforting sensation to have two toilet plungers attached to her tit-ends.

Fourth, her tongue hurt because it had been a discomforting sensation to have a clothes pin holding it in place.

Fifth, her hair hurt because it had been a discomforting sensation to have it tied in a top-knot and linked to something called hemp that ran through a pulley in the ceiling and was connected to a hundred-pound counterweight on the other end.

Sixth, her head hurt because it had taken what seemed hours for Elsa to discover that bondage was painfully pleasant.

There was another person in the room with Elsa Manly.

The person wasn't her husband, the good pious Reverend Manly, because he had told her that he was going to the library tonight to see if Miss Mocker had removed an odious book called The Coach Eats Out which was written by some babbling idiot named Hyman Singe. How the book ever got on the shelf in the first place, the reverend would never know, of course.

The other person in the room with Elsa Manly was a man. A very huge man in more ways than just a gigantic physique. He sported what a Christian Scientist would call a gigantus erectus. Which, in common layman terms, is more commonly known as: a huge prick.

The huge prick belonged to one Eddie Grossman, whose son was introduced in the chapter prior to this one. Eddie was just like Harvey, his son, in many respects.