'Ohhhhhh.'
Cindy rose and fell, beating her fleshy ass against the floor. Her body was becoming hot, her nipples stiff and itchy, scratching against the stiff material of her bra. How she wished Bobby were here, here with that stiff cumming cock of his. Cindy could see herself opening up to him, letting him touch her all over, letting him slip her panties off, slide her bra off, pin her to the floor with his thick-muscled legs and fucking her until she cried for mercy.
Crazy, obscene images of people fucking in all sorts of positions flashed through her mind as the girl worked herself up more and more. Sweat ran down her forehead, made her clothes stick uncomfortably to her flesh. Her tits jiggled maddeningly in her restraining bra-cups while the big muscles in her thighs and ass cramped. The tiny room echoed with the wet slapping sounds of her buttocks against the floor.
'Oh yes, yes!'
This was worse, much worse than the feelings she had when she was playing with herself at home in the dark. If someone were to come now, come in and see her, Cindy knew she wouldn't be able to stop. She would let him watch, maybe even let him… she thought once more of that time in the van, of how those men pawed her, their callused fingers bruising her flesh. One of them had nearly pulled her panties down. He had managed to rub his thumb against her cuntlips once.
Her mind reeled. Her nostrils flared while a strange hot dampness broke out over her upper lip, around her nipples, over the tops of her feet. Her back was straight, her head thrown back, her eyes tightly closed. Cindy worked her cunt against the splinter under her. The edge was cutting deep, nearly reaching her cherry. Could she burst her cherry with this?
No, that was silly. She was going to wait for Mr. Right, the one man who would sweep her away and… Cindy laughed bitterly, stopping her fucking movements for a second and staring around her. Mr. Right? She would be lucky that they all didn't fuck her at once. She was going to get fucked here, fucked by all of them. Something told her that.
And oddly that thought made her gasp with something like excitement. She started the up-and-down fucking movements again, bobbing like some kind of merry-go-round horse. Her clit was slick with juice. She kept fucking at it even after a tiny orgasm swept through her pussy. There was more, more to follow.
Cindy tossed her head from side to side, loving the sensation of her hair whipping across her face, tangling around her throat. Every kind of sensation was welcomed now. She was completely alive, free of all restraints. Cindy gasped with delight. A whore. Yes, her mother had called women who played with themselves sluts and whores! Certainly they weren't the moral kind of woman her mother had hoped her daughter would become.
'Oh whore, whore.'
The word brought a shiver of excitement to the young girl. She threw back her shoulders, refusing to stop as the rough edge of the splinter cut at her. She rolled her thighs in a counter-rhythm, forcing her clit across the piece of wood. Then another mini orgasm erupted, making her lurch back and forth. She was still full of lust, of desire, panting and sweating. Cindy was chilled to the point of numbness as her nerves became overloaded with sensation. With only the tip of the splinter in her slot, she swung her body from side to side.
Cindy thought of Bobby, thought of his fingers, of his cock. Yes, she wanted to be fucked, really fucked by him. His image floated in front of her eyes. She thought of him and worked her hips faster and faster. The girl dug in her cunt with her fingers, feeling her cherry with her fingertips. 'Ohhhhhh!'
With one final wrench, she was through. A powerful shock raced through her body, knocking the wind from her. She fell onto her side, her legs drawn tightly up against her belly, her knees digging into her tits.
'Oh God, God…' Cindy whimpered, sobbing quietly.
The night sounds swelled around this dank, silent hole. Somewhere nearby she could hear coughing, sobbing. They were the sounds of a prison. If only she could talk with some of the girls, find out what kind of place this was.
Her helplessness made her angry. How dare these men try to manipulate her, deprive her of her freedom, of her happiness. She thought of her mother, sitting at home alone, wondering where her daughter was. There would be hours, perhaps days and weeks, of anguish before Cindy could return home.
Angry, the girl wished she could kick down the door, scratch off the faces of the men who had forced her into this.
Suddenly, as if in answer to her prayers, Cindy could hear the sounds of footsteps. Someone was coming. She raised herself up from the floor, brushing aside several stray strands of blonde hair.
She stiffened, throwing back her shoulders as the doorknob rattled. There was the jangling sounds of keys, the sound of a bolt shuttling back, the creaking of the swollen door as it opened.
'Where… where am I?'
Cindy felt her courage failing her the moment she peered up at Jack. What did he want? Money, information about something? What? It made no difference at this point, she felt. Something told the girl, he always got what he wanted. Cindy looked up into his cold blue eyes.
'Don't matter,' he said, wiping the back of one hairy hand across his lips.
He had been drinking. Even where she was she could smell the rancid odor, of beer on his breath. Jack was big – at least six three, close to two hundred pounds, every ounce solid muscle. He was wearing a red flannel shirt opened to the navel, revealing his hairy chest and well-developed pecs. His dirty Levi's clung to, his narrow hips, revealing the sharp outline of a fat, long cock.
Cindy swallowed hard, instinctively shrinking back from the heavily endowed stud. He had come here for one reason, she felt. The air between them thickened with excitement, sparkled with electricity, as Jack kept staring down at the helpless blonde teen.
'Why am I here?'
Jack sneered, his thick sensuous lips curling up. Under his black moustache she saw a double row of white, square teeth. Everything about him spoke of raw, animal power – the power of a coal miner, the raw strength of a lumberjack, or of a soldier trained to kill brutally.
Cindy felt fear. As he stood a step closer, she drew back, one hand covering her throat while the other stretched back behind her. The window light caught the young man's face and upper torso. The sweat on his face made his long black hair glisten. His forehead wrinkled and the skin round his dark eyes tightened. Tiny fires in the centers of his eyes spilled along the high cheekbones and longs nose. He hadn't shaved for several days. The sweat made the stubble stand out.
'Please… tell me…'
'I'll tell you shit, baby,' he growled, kicking the door shut.
Cindy jumped, scooting back until she hit the far wall. There was nowhere to run in this tiny, cramped room!
CHAPTER TWO
'Please don't hurt me,' Cindy whimpered. Jack laughed derisively, reaching down, rubbing the outline of his dick. It seemed to have grown longer, thicker than before! Was it her imagination? Surely he had to have more than six inches! Something that big, that thick, belonged more on a horse or donkey than on a human being! Cindy hugged her tits protectively, watching as a dark stain appeared at his crotch.
'Don't matter one way or another, does it,' he said, rubbing his stubbly chin.
He was such a big man, such a powerful person to stand up against. Cindy shivered, wishing she could disappear in some hole, go away, flee from this animal who was going to brutalize her.
'Oh no, no…'
He was approaching her. His body seemed to fill the room. He lay one heavy, callused palm on her shoulder, pushing her back with such a force that her head struck the floor with a thud. Cindy sucked in a breath, dazed but not too dazed to realize her skirt had hiked up from the blow. Reaching down, she tucked the hem back over her knees modestly. She sucked in a deep breath, afraid of the man.
'No, I ain't gonna hurtcha… too much.' Jack unbuckled his belt, sneering down at her. He wanted to use the belt. Cindy could see that in the way he fingered the leather, clutching the buckled end tightly, wrapping the
