Heather Brown: The rape girls

The excitement of watching Kitty get fucked up the ass was too much for the others to endure without participating. One of them dropped to his knees, draping himself over the top of her, his feet dangling in her face as he ground his groin into hers and thrust his prick into her gaping cunt. He pulled out instantly, complaining again about the dryness of her pussy.

"Here," the one fucking Kitty in the ass said. "Smear some of this on it." Kitty instantly realized that they were going to use her own blood to lubricate her cunt for fucking.

The one draped over her smeared his cock with rich, red blood. Now his prick slid into cunt smoothly and he began banging his pelvis against hers, the two cocks rubbing against each other through the membrane separating her pussy from her asshole.

The third white man eyed her mouth. Kitty could see him poised over her, stroking his cock and teasing it to its maximum length. As he began to ease down on her face, Kitty tried to close her mouth, but suddenly intense pain shot up through her body from the wrenching and sawing of the two pricks fucking between her legs. She could not prevent herself from crying out.

Kitty felt her open mouth filled with a throbbing cock, the sweaty balls and pubic hair rubbing against her lips, the insistent, thrusting prickhead ramming against the roof of her mouth and at her throat. As she gagged, her expanding and contracting throat acted, to her dismay, like a voracious, sucking pussy – just what her assailant craved as he fucked her furiously in the mouth.

The cocks between her legs seemed to be meeting at some painful intersection in her stomach. Both cocks strained forward to their full lengths, and then pressed against each other for a sustained period for a few seconds until she could feel their unmistakable swelling, and then they began coming, each of them ejaculating in repeated hot spurts of sperm that coated her insides.

The prick in Kitty's mouth continued pulsing, still thrust deeply down her throat. Suddenly, after at least ten seconds of being poised in throbbing, bloated readiness, the cock exploded inside her, replacing the salty taste of its meat with the sticky sweetness of a long, sustained discharge of steaming cum so copious that its onslaught took her breath away.

The three of them withdrew, leaving her lying in a heap on the floor. Cum drooled out of her mouth, and between her legs a pinkish mixture flowed from her asshole, a bubbling mixture of sperm and blood spilling onto the floor where it mixed with the cum oozing from her pussy.

Rough hands grabbed her arms and pulled her up with a painful lurch and she found herself looking straight into Dumont's ugly face. He was fully clothed now, she noticed. His hand lashed across her face.

"Now, listen, you filthy whore," Dumont said. "I'm going to give you exactly five minutes to put on your clothes and get the hell out of here. If you aren't gone by then, I'm going to call the house detective and have him run you in."

Kitty nodded dully. She put her clothes on as best she could and hobbled silently out the door.

As she took the back stain down to the lobby, Kitty put her hand between her legs and, seeing fresh blood on her fingertips, vowed that she would someday get even, one way or another.

"Jennifer, this is Kimberly. Can you come over to my apartment this evening?" Kimberly said into the phone.

"Of course. What's happened?" Jennifer said. "Two other women have called, one right after another. They were both raped on the same day. They'll both be at my place tonight." Jennifer was astonished, then she said, "I'll be there."

"Okay, I'll see you at eight," Kimberly said, then hung up.

Jennifer sat by the phone, still shaken, after she had finished talking to Kimberly. Ever since the Satan's Mothers had taped her she felt like a stranger in her own body. Her body felt alien to her. She couldn't stand to look at herself, especially when her body was uncovered.

Jennifer got up and went into her bedroom and opened a dresser drawer and removed a cigar box. She opened it and removed a tinfoil packet and unwrapped it. She sprinkled some of the brownish-green contents into a small piece of thin paper and rolled it into a cigarette, then lit it and took a deep drag of the joint.

As she relaxed, Jennifer began to wonder if she would ever be able to look at her pussy again without feeling sick.

Jennifer wondered about the other women she was going to be meeting with tonight. Did they feel the same way? As she thought about it, Jennifer's hand dropped onto her belly, and, as she continued to savor the effects of the grass, her fingers slid down past her navel and onto her pelvis. She fell asleep that way. In the drug-induced dream that followed, she imagined her cunt appearing from nowhere, disembodied, an entity unto itself. It was huge and hairy, slobbering, moist lips quivering. It grabbed her hand with a sucking motion and swallowed her whole arm, its drooling lips pulsing near her face.

Jennifer awoke with a start to discover that her hand had found its way between her legs and that her thighs had closed around it, shoving her palm against her hot, straining pussy. She withdrew her hand frantically, running into the bathroom to wash her hands. Looking at herself in the mirror, Jennifer regarded her chalky, terrified face, and promised herself, "I've got to tell them about this. It's my only chance."

"I'm glad you're all here on time," Kimberly said, "because we've got a lot to talk about tonight."

"How we gonna do this?" Kitty said. "We gonna take turns and tell how we was messed with. 'Cause if that's what you got in mind, I'm leaving."

"Then why are you here?" Gilda said, feeling wary.

"I'm here for action. I don't wanna talk about what happened, I wanna do something about it," Kitty said militantly.

"I share your determination, Kitty," Kimberly said. "However, we've got to remember that there are four individuals here, and we may have different needs. Especially at first."

"Yes, yes," Gilda said in a rush. "I just don't know what to do with myself since it happened. I'm afraid to go back to work. I'm afraid to even go out of my apartment. I'm frightened of men, and I'm frightened of myself."

"Why?" Kimberly said.

"I don't know, maybe this will sound silly, but… I can't go to sleep at night wondering if maybe I did something to encourage him to do that to me. Maybe he thought I wanted it. Maybe it wasn't his fault at all, but mine."

"Shit!" Kitty suddenly exclaimed. "What I got to say to you, sweetie, is this: Who was it that got into your cunt?"

"A man."

"And who was it that got up into all of our cunts?"

"Men."

"And you ever heard tell of any woman raping a man?" Kitty pressed Gilda.

"No."

"Then I don't have to say no more," Kitty concluded matter-of-factly.

At this point Kimberly noticed that Jennifer was sitting silently with a troubled expression on her face. "What's wrong, Jennifer, you're so quiet, you're not saying anything?"

"Oh… I… I was just listening to what you all had to say," Jennifer said uncertainly.

"No, I think it's something more than that," Kimberly said. "You look troubled. You've got to tell us what's bothering you or we aren't going to be able to help you."

"I just can't help it, I…" Jennifer said, beginning to sob, holding her head in her hands.

"What is it, Jennifer?" Kimberly said. "Tell us. If you can't trust us, who can you trust?"

Jennifer lifted her head, trying to compose herself. Then she slowly looked around the room, exploring the face of each of the other women. Kimberly was right, she decided, if she didn't put her trust in them then she would be totally alone, certain to become a chronic nervous wreck.