“Like t' put yer mouth on rings, do ya? Bitin' bitch! I was jus' gonna give ya a tickle, but now yer for it. You'll suck my cock off fer that. Suck it so soft n' pretty I'll shoot my spunk all over yer bitin' teef.”
Gimp was cringing behind them, torn between lust and fear of the consequences.
“Blimy, Red, ye'd better get 'er off the street, or we'll get nabbed certain. 'Ere,” he peeled off the filthy cloak that hung by a string around his neck, “wrap 'er up in this an' we'll pull 'er up the lane.”
Marion felt the thick, stinking wool being thrown over her head, then she was lifted from the ground and carried. She tried to scream, tried to squirm loose, but the giant beggar held her firmly.
They had only walked a short way, when she felt herself being dumped unceremoniously into wet felt like a heap of rubbish. Before she could pull off the garment that blinded and nearly suffocated her, Big Red was beside her, pressing her down.
“Now, you jus' lay off that, lady. One peep out o' you, and I'll do fer ya. Be a good, quiet little doxy, an' I'll treat ya real nice.” He turned to Gimp, who had crouched beside them. “Don't squat there slobberin', ya stinkin' hound. Get the cart. We'll take 'er on out t' Freddies and have some time to fiddle before the others get in.”
The deserted cul-de-sac to which they had dragged their victim put heart into the cowardly old man, as darkness and concealment always put heart into those dedicated to villainy, and his lust had risen with the decline of his fears.
“Ow, mate, that's the fing, but gimme a look at 'er before I go. I just want a little look t' quicken my journey, like.”
Big Red laughed coarsely and grabbed the hem of Marion's skirt and yanked it to her waist, revealing her white thighs and buttocks. As she wriggled frantically, trying to escape this outrage, Big Red hooked his leg over hers, holding her still and spreading her open with the same motion.
“Cor.'“ Gimp leaned forward, saliva running from the side of his mouth. “Look at that arse. I'm gonna ram my bird right up that arse, I am.”
Big Red pulled the cheeks wide and looked at the tight, curled anus. He laughed again. “Not wiv your monster, ye ain't. Ye'd split 'er right down t' the cunt. Half yer weight's in yer cock, boyo, and that little arse hole wouldn't hardly take the nob.' Marion sobbed, struggling with renewed vigour as she felt Big Red's finger poke deep into her behind.
He continued to poke her for a moment, then, spreading her legs even wider, he spoke to Gimp again. “Go on, take a feel, then get the cart. Stick yer thumb up 'er arse. She'll like that.”
The old man sniggered, prodding at the opening till the muscles relaxed enough to let his thumb sink it. He pivoted it round and round, then pulled it out and grabbed the lips of her vagina between his fingers, twisting cruelly. Marion's scream was muffled, and the two men paid no attention. After squeezing her thighs and buttocks, Gimp pushed his hand into her vagina, lifting sharply as he did so in such a manner that Marion had no choice but to lift her bottom high in the air.
“Look at that arse liftin'. I fink she wants a doin' right now.”
Big Red pushed him away. “Get that cart, or ya won't even get t' watch, ya buggerin' old pervert. I'll keep the pig happy while you're gone, 'op it now!”
Reluctantly, Gimp stood up and started out of the alley. Big Red watched till he was sure the man was gone, then flipped Marion over on her back. The cloak fell from her head, and she looked at her abductor, the tears streaming down her face.
“Please. Please let me go. You'll be well rewarded, I swear it.”
Big Red lay down on the refuse heap beside her, holding her flat and rummaging in her blouse for her breast.
“Sure. Rewarded wiv the rope.” He found the satiny globe and yanked it out of the neck of her gown, tearing the material almost to the waist. “I'll get all the reward I want outa ya, an' it won't be the rope-nor coin, either.” He pulled her breast, squeezing and fondling. “Cor, I like tits! Think I'll work on ya a bit while we're waitin' fer Gimp.”
He bent his face over her, and took the darkened nipple between his teeth. Marion gasped as he started to suck, teasing the nipple with his tongue and drawing hard with lips and cheeks. His hand went up under her skirt and she felt him fumble between her legs, pulling the curled hair gently and prodding his fingers into her. His matted hair fell over her white skin, and the stench of his filthy rags and carcass almost overpowered her. She tried to pull away, but thought better of it when she felt his broken teeth nip sharply on her tender breast.
He lifted his head, pulling his lips away from the distended nipple with a sharp report.
“Ya might as well stop tryin' t' flit. Yer not goin' anywhere except where I take ya.” He rolled on top of her, pushing her legs apart with his knee and pulling at the leather lace that held his trousers together. “I'll jus' give ya a little taste while we're waitin'.”
Marion rolled her head away as the vile reek of the man's breath filled her nostrils. She started to whimper as she felt him force his hard, eager erection into her body. He pumped quickly, breathing hard and pounding into her in a steady, workmanlike fashion.
“Move on it, girlie, or I'll stick it in your arse. Yeh, that's better. Yer twot's pullin' good now.” His strokes came quicker and Marion knew that it wouldn't be long before he reached his climax. Although her relationship with her daughter would certainly lead one to believe that there was little left in the sex line that could shock her, this was by no means true. She had gone into marriage a virgin, and had never had any man except Sir David. The thought of this grimy half-beast filling her with his sperm revolted and horrified her.
“Not inside me, Oh God, do anything else but please don't do it inside me.”
Her pleading only seemed to heighten the man's lust, and he put his hands under her bottom, pulling her up so that he could drive in even deeper.
“Not inside ya? Lady I'm gonna put my shot so high up yer snatch it won't drip out till mornin'.” He jerked forward, squeezing her buttocks and ramming the full length of his penis in and out. “Now. Yer gonna take it now, lady. Right up yer cunt.” He grunted like a boar, and Marion felt his penis twitch in heavy, violent spasms as the flood of semen poured into her belly.
Big Red lay panting for a moment, resting his full weight on her slender body. She gasped for air and he rolled off.
Wiping his dripping member on her skirt as an added indignity, he adjusted his clothes and stood up, pulling her to her feet. The sound of wheels could be heard and in a moment, Gimp appeared at the entrance to the cul- de-sac, pulling a deep cart of the sort used by rag pickers.
Big Red leered at her. “Just in time, 'eh?' Wouldn' want 'im t' fink I was interferin' wiv ya while 'is back was turned.”
Marion turned away, hoping frantically that an opportunity to escape would present itself while they were occupied with the cart. Unfortunately, Big Red was taking no chances with her. He had Gimp tear some rags into strips and tied her hands tightly behind her. He then pressed another handful of rags into her mouth for a gag, stretching it cruelly and almost choking her. She was dumped roughly into the bottom of the cart and covered with the wool cloak.
For nearly an hour Marion was pulled through the streets. Her body was soon covered with bruises from being banged against the sides of the wooden cart, and the filthy gag had been pushed so far down her throat that she was almost unable to breathe. At times she lay in a semi-swoon, half dead from lack of air. Even that was better than the other interminable moments when she lay, buffeted and stiff in her pitch black prison, and tried to imagine what was going to happen to her. That she was to be raped, not only by these two vermin, but by others as well, was something she had been made all too aware of. But what then? They certainly wouldn't let her go- wouldn't dare. Would they kill her? It seemed the only possibility, but perhaps she would be glad to die by the time they were through with her.
Half fainting, she became aware that the cart had stopped. The thick cloak was lifted from her and rough hands pulled her out of the cart. She was too weak to stand and would have fallen if Big Red hadn't grabbed her around the waist and thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of malt. In this fashion she was carried up a steep flight of stairs and into a high loft where she was deposited on a wide, self-like couch attached to one wall. She lay very still, eyes closed, only vaguely aware that the nightmare of a journey being over, a much worse nightmare was
