Susan Carter - Father knows best

"Hey," Hyman gasped to the other man, excitedly watching Murray's hands pull on Harriet's breasts. "Look down here. She has a real pretty cunt under those panties. Lemmee take the panties off, huh? Is it okay?"

Murray either didn't hear Hyman, or he was too engrossed in rubbing and feeling Harriet's breasts to reply. So Hyman accepted the other man's silence as approval, and delayed no longer. Even as he continued staring at the way Murray's hands fondled Harriet's large breasts, his own meaty ham like hands slid down to her hips. Fires of lasciviousness burned in his eyes as the bulky man squeezed and crushed the full, rounded cheeks of her ovoid buttocks. Suddenly, with a strong impatience, he moved both hands to the top of her panties, gripping the elastic waistband. His fingers hooked themselves in the stretched elastic, and slowly began rolling it down the girl's trembling hips. Little by little he was peeling the wispy undergarment from her shuddering body. His hands shook with anxiety.

Harriet trembled and began jerking, not understanding what it was all about. Why were they so anxious to do this to her? What kind of pleasure could be gained from fondling her naked thighs? Whatever it was, it was terrifying, and she became wild with fear. The horrible truth was, they fully intended doing whatever they had started out to do. There was no way to avoid the fact that they intended abusing her. Her buttocks quivered convulsively as she trembled at the unknown fate in store for her. Though she still had no idea what it was they really wanted, she knew it would be something to make her unhappy in spite of what Murray had said about her enjoying it.

If only her father's mind hadn't snapped. If only her mother had retained enough strength to carry on. If only she hadn't been sent to Aunt Cecile's. If only she'd had the courage to run away from her aunt's home.

A hundred "ifs" rambled through her tortured mind, until Harriet was suddenly forced back to reality by the cool touch of Murray's fingertips against the heated flesh of her young breasts. He had managed to work under and around the straps, unbuttoning her blouse and pulling it open. Now he was slowly insinuating his fingers under the taut material of her bra.

Staring into his face, Harriet thought the man's eyes were boring into her body as his hands continued massaging her breasts.

Glancing down, the girl saw something swelling in the crotch of his pants, throbbing, twitching, making the tenting pants move. And then there was a small, wet circle of oily fluid seeping through the crotch of his white trousers. Looking up, Harriet saw Murray's nostrils flaring with continuous desire as his fingers coursed over the smooth, silky softness of her bare flesh. Murray's breath came pantingly harder and faster, and the stubble-faced man suddenly gave a snort of impatience. He crammed one hand into each cup of her simple bra, took a deep breath, and roughly pulled them apart.

Harriet shuddered as Murray pulled the two halves of the no-longer-usable piece of material away from her young breasts. He cut them away so they would no longer impede his hands.

Harriet's full, young orange-sized breasts, round and resilient, stood high and proud, the nipples expanding into a long, thick hardness from the abrupt exposure. The stubble-faced man growled hungrily as his hands began caressing her naked ass cheeks. His fingers compressed tightly around the shuddering, upstanding nipples, squeezing them, pulling on them, making them even harder and springier, causing the frightened young girl to shudder even more. His thumb rolled over the nipple repeatedly, teasing it, making it turn from tan to a reddish-brown.

Harriet squirmed and writhed, still strapped to the stretcher, doing her utmost to escape the mauling fingers. She felt his fingers compressing all the more tightly around her nipple, and she gasped, thinking this to be the most humiliating moment of her life.

Both Harriet and Murray had forgotten about Hyman who had been fascinatedly sitting near the foot of the stretcher, silently gazing at the pink, pouting lips of Harriet's cunt. It looked so smooth, so helpless, so defenseless, and the sight of it made Hyman dribble. A thin line of sputum drooled from the corner of his mouth as he leaned forward, his dull eyes staring with almost evil anxiety. And then, as if the waiting was over, Hyman's huge paw leaped forward and tightly clamped down against her pelvis, totally covering her juicy split.

Harriet screamed again, once more futilely struggling, but unable to get away. She squirmed with all her strength, doing her best to evade the thick, wormlike fingers trying to invade her young body.

She didn't understand just what it was they were trying to do, but she could feel Hyman's thrusting and probing at her naked, defenseless vagina. She wanted to close her thighs, but it was to no avail. The licentiously wanton, bulky man gripped one of her tender knees and pushed it out to the edge of the stretcher as his other hand continued probing wildly against her sensitive labia.

Harriet stared at the man, wondering how such a maniac was loose while her poor, dear father was locked up. She could see the smile on his face when his probing finger finally seemed to find that for which it had been searching. She could feel the thick finger, as thick as a Devil dog, suddenly lunge forward, pushing the tender, unused walls of her vaginal cavern apart. Slowly, forcefully, painfully, the middle finger began easing its way into the young girl's dry cuntal slit.

"Ayyyyyyaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" she screamed loudly as the thick, almost bludgeoning finger shoved through her tenderness like a red-hot piece of tubular metal. Not only was the finger thick, stretching her vaginal walls painfully apart, but it was long, and it sundered her hymen with absolutely no effort, the nail literally tearing the small membrane to shreds.

He worked his finger even deeper, heedless of the blood pouring out mixed with the light film of oil he was stirring up inside her as his finger continued roiling about. Hyman continued grinding the manual digit around and around with absolutely no feeling of mercy as he fingered her painfully expanded channel. The helpless girl groaned and screamed, unable to kick or fight back, but she bounced her buttocks up and down as if her narrow cuntal passageway was on fire because of the man's crazed attack. The agony of her virginity being torn out of her was terrible. She had no idea what it was the man had done to her, but Harriet did know he had cut her, inside. She could feel the staining blood seep out as it mixed with an ever-increasing amount of lubrication. The girl's body went limp as the acute pain overpowered her. She lay back, her eyes half-closed. And that was when she realized Murray was aware of something being wrong. He turned to Hyman and shoved.

The thick, worming finger was suddenly snapped out from between the pulsing, fleshy layers of her tortured vagina as the shorter attendant pushed the other one to the rear of the ambulance, forcing him to sit on the built-in bench at the far end.

"Hyman," Murray angrily snapped. "I told you to watch out. Look, now. She's bleeding. You used your fucking finger to pop the girl's cherry, you dumb jerk. I think you've had enough nookie for this trip. You just sit there."

"Aw hell!" Hyman snapped. "All I did was finger her cunt a little. Shit, man! It ain't as if she belongs to you and only you. We're supposed to share her."

"You touch her one more time and I'll tell the doctors at the clinic you were the one to harm the girl. You have some of her blood on your pants. That'll be enough evidence. They'll start giving you electro-shock therapy."

Hyman looked down and saw Murray was right. His pants were stained, and Murray was just mean enough to squeal on him, too. This was one cunt he would have to sit out. But the next time he would get firsts.