Forced into a ghetto whore - Chapter 4

The rape, accurately filmed in all his lewdness and artfully camouflaged as a lewd prostitution trick by Bob, went on again and again. When their cocks were limp, they got them hard again torturing her with huge rubber cocks and dildoes taken from Bob's stock in the shop; they put clips on her sore nipples, plunged bottles and a special ultra-wide dong in her asshole.
After they had finally stuck in her cunt and asshole the biggest dildos that Bob had at the shop, they lost interest in her. They had done everything they wanted: nothing short of snuffing her would excite them more, but they didn't want to kill her, they knew they could find other uses for a good piece of white ass like that.
So, at 2 am, they called it a day; Natasha was passed out again by now, strapped spread-eagled on the bed with a big rubber cock in her asshole, her pussy all a mass of drooling cum, sperm running down her blood-stained thighs, the face encrusted with cum that was dripping even down her ears. This was because David had thoughtfully provided a final nice touch, unloading a couple of times in her ears too: apart from being a thing he liked very much, it was exceptionally exciting on tape. Now, they said proudly, Natasha was drooling sperm from her ears, too.
It was 2.30 am when they went out of the porn shop. George had left: he had to work early, next morning. Bob and David couldn't decide to leave Natasha, so they left together. She had her stockings and garter on, her tight red minidress, nothing else. Natasha had been allowed a quick wash only because she was stinking too much even for those creeps, and she had had to put a cheap bright red lipstick and an even sleazier perfume on.
In the car, she was tightly bound in the front passenger's seat with a safety belt, but they didn't care so much for her now. After so much fucking, now she had to be released, but not before they would exploit that still good piece of white meat. She would probably earn them some good money before morning
Natasha was battered, her holes were sore, drooling sperm; she was a whole mess, and she was completely wrecked, so much that she simply didn't even protest. She had a hard time even sitting down, as her asshole was completely ripped, and blood was still trickling off it sometimes.
They were on their road to somewhere, but she didn't mind. Nothing could be worse than it had been until then. But they didn't look too interested in her anymore. This could be good, but, shivering, she thought that it could mean that they were about to 'dispose' of her. To kill her.
They were still in the city, though she couldn't say which lousy neighborhood they were actually in. It surely looked terrible, all desert and grumpy, wrecked cars in the street, and nobody around. Bob cursed. "Christ, we're near out of gas!"
"Man, I did tell you to take my car" David grumbled.
"Okay, so what?"
"I'd say we have some kind of service area over there We'd find some fuel there."
The service station was large, and she noticed that there were a line of gas pumps, but no cars around; a large fast-food insignia glowed just over the corner. Her hunger was terrible, now.
The attendant was a young, lanky Mulatto. He walked to the car with clearly sleepy eyes, and asked them how much fuel they wanted, then eyed in the car and was attracted, obviously, by the distressed blonde sitting in the front seat, her stocking-clad legs all available to his eyes. His glance was noticed by Bob. He called the boy and said "Hey man, do you want a good piece of white ass?"
"I'd like to, yes" the boy said, looking at the battered but still good-looking blonde in the passenger's seat.
"Well, you can get it now. You put 20 bucks of fuel in the tank, and you can smack it up her ass now."
The boy, though horny, hesitated. "20 bucks is too much for me, sir", he blurted, "but maybe my boss is OK with it".
"Let's call the boss, then" Bob said, and added, winking to the boy, "If the boss pays 30 bucks, you'll get sucked as well. OK?"
"OK, Mister" the boy smiled, and ran to the shack where the boss had to be. From the door, after a few seconds, he motioned them to get there, and Bob slowly drove the car to the hut.
The blonde girl was forced to get out of the car, and enter in the hut. The Hispanic old man waiting for her was as nasty as every other man he had met in the last three days, and he knew what he wanted from her. He looked at the blonde beauty with lust, because, ever after the multiple rapes of the last days, she still was incredibly nice-looking. He made her turn an shoved his right hand between her buttocks, sliding it slowly in her ass crack; she didn't even complain. The man grunted and peeled three 10-dollars bills from a huge roll he held in his pocket.
David said "It's enough to get the fuel, man."
"Those 30 bucks are for a second run, kid. I want her to suck me twice. The first run, that will be paid with the fuel."
"Hell, that's nice. Tell you what: Peel two more bills and she will blow you twice, and your boy here for free, too. You can fuck her, if you want. Then you let her go in one hour, she'll get back home alone."
"Fine. One hour only?"
"One and a half she will walk down afterwards." She took her by her chin and hissed "You'll do exactly what these two nice gentlemen ask you, entiende? Otherwise, you know, we'll find you everywhere."
They left; with tears in her eyes, she saw their car getting out of the station after having got the gas, and Natasha, forced to sit down on the old pig's lap, was already being caressed lewdly by his rough, obscene hands. His dark hands were between her thighs, then fondled her round, white tits for a long time before forcing her down on her knees.
When she was on all fours, and sucking the old pig's cock, the boy got in the shack and didn't even take a second to grope her: he simply unzipped his overalls and stuck his hard cock in her sloppy, gaping snatch. He pumped her for a while, then stuck the rod in her anus; it had been so thoroughly raped by now that she didn't even protest.
The spurt of cum in her face came from the old man, and she had to keep the flaccid, wet rod in her pussy, while the boy made another full sperm enema to her helpless rectum. Then he made two other full blowjobs to the old man: in fact she spent two hours on her knees of the hut.
It was 4 in the morning when they were OK, and they wanted to get rid of her. The boy tried another approach; they were closing the shack, now, and he wanted some more white pussy. But she refused, flatly. Natasha was sore everywhere, and her hunger was making her faint. Besides, she feared being kidnapped again by the boy: walking, she hoped to be rescued by the Police. Christ, the Police. She would have needed it badly, but there was no black-and-white around. "I'll take you down with my car."
"No, I'll walk alone. I've had enough."
Her head was getting dizzier; her stomach was not flat anymore, it concave, being without any filler since days. She saw the fast-food sign and decided to get there, so she turned her back to the beastly boy and walked there.
Natasha finally arrived in front of the greasy all-nighter. It was a dump, a brick building that has had no repair work since years, or so it seemed. The only bright things were the neon signs, half of whom weren't even working; the joint was empty, inside she could see only one black woman at the counter, looking sleepy, nobody else.
Suddenly, she got aware of the fact that she was dressed as a complete whore, battered, dripping sperm and without a single cent. It was hopeless she looked again inside. She had to admit that she'd voluntarily prostitute herself to anybody to get a damned hamburger now, she was beyond any kind of pride. But there was only the black girl there, no man was visible.
A car stopped behind her, and it, of course, the gas-station attendant. He stepped out of the car and said "What are you looking at, cunt?"
She didn't care anymore. All she wanted, now, was to eat. She was starving, really. Natasha muttered "I'll do anything for eating something." And the boy leered at her.
"Yes? Anything?"
"Yes." She admitted. Hunger was unbearable, now.
"Wait here".
The boy disappeared; she was left alone for a couple of minutes. The boy reappeared from the corner at the back of the shop.
"Come here, Natasha!"
She walked uncertainly towards him, and, when he turned the corner, she saw that there was another guy with him: he smiled and said "That's my cousin Bert, Natasha. He'd give you what you want. Provided you give him what he wants, and that's a good blowjob." The other black boy grinned and raised his hands: he was holding two fast-food Styrofoam cups and boxes.
"Two cheeseburgers" he announced, proudly. Natasha went crazy.
"Oh, please, give it to me please, I'm dying."
"Now, will you suck me?"
"Oh, yes, yes. Please, let me eat"
"First, the blowjob" he declared.
Natasha had no choice. She kneeled on the small grass corner before the guy, that was actually the cook in that greasy joint and smelt of fried potatoes even in his crotch. The huge limp banana that sprouted out of his jeans, after she had lowered his zipper, jeans and panties, got immediately harder when she took it in her mouth and began to suck. She dove on it with desperation, licking, sucking, taking his smelly balls in her little mouth, making everything she could to accelerate his cumming. To complicate her work, the attendant wanted to be sucked too, so she had to blow both of them at the same time, having one or the other of those huge black trunks sliding in her throat while the other jerked off, poking at her face with his cockhead.
"You're really a couple of pigs", she suddenly heard. It was a girlish voice, giggling, and she turned her eyes to see the black waitress of the joint, a not very young and quite ripe black woman, grinning at the two boys while looking at the scene.
"Looks like paleface here knows the business, huh?" the woman inquired.
"Sure, sis, she's a good sucker. Hell, she's like a Hoover, now."
"And how much did you pay?"
"This, sis" Bert said, showing the two burgers. "That's a very reasonable price."
The black woman was surprised. She turned Natasha's face towards her, and said "She's nice, too."
"I bet she'd lick your pussy too, if you pay her a Coke" They all laughed, the woman said "Let's see" then raised her skirt and pulled her hair so she was facing her black crotch. Her snatch was pink and wet, and it showed through the thick curly pubic hair. "Have you heard, little princess? Now, lick on this, and you'll get a Coke, too."
"Oh, no, please" Natasha whined, "I've never done it."
"I don't care, whitey. Lick it, or you wouldn't get the hamburgers at all." She had to be the Chef there, because the two boys didn't protest. Natasha bowed: hunger was stronger than anything else. She extended her tongue and prodded on her snatch. It was smelling of strong female humours.
"That's good", the black woman groaned, and put a leg over her shoulder, forcing her lower on her knees and, finally, getting with her snatch directly over her pretty face. While she continued to jerk off slowly the two massive cocks, the woman began to move her snatch over her face in slow undulating movements, she her pussy and clit were clutching on her nose and tongue.
The woman's vagina emitted a lot of thick humours, when she was aroused, and she was, now. She began to groan and moan, signaling the oncoming orgasms, and after a couple of minutes Natasha's face was quickly covered in female cum, her tongue getting flooded with thick, whitish fluid.
The show of her pretty white face wedged between those huge black thighs and buried in that snatch was too much for the cook, too, and he suddenly pulled her head so she was out of the woman's crotch, then spurted his cum on her lips and shoved his cock in halfway, to have her swallow other cum.
Now that her face was all splattered with white sperm, the woman didn't want any of it anymore, and she got off her. She adjusted her skirt and, saying "Anytime you would need another burger come here, pretty baby we'll find the way to help you" and finally also the gas-station attendant splattered her face and lips with cum. She could summarily clean her face with a pair of towels, nothing more, and she felt like she had her mouth full of the woman's thick curly hair.
But, finally, the boys gave her the hamburgers, and, while they drove downtown, she ate both voraciously without even wiping her lips from his sperm, she was too used to it to notice it anymore. She still was hungry, but not feeling like dying.
At 5 in the morning, they were in the alley at the back of her hotel. She entered ringing at the night bell: the weaselly clerk was there, waiting. He was extremely kind, smiling, while she only tried to sneak in her room to clean up. She knew she was a stinking mess, now.
"Want some, lady?" He asked, while munching on a bread roll. He had a few ready for the morning breakfast. She looked with desire at the platter.
"I'd love to" Natasha was so degraded by the last days' ordeal that, if she had asked to kneel and suck his cock for a roll, she'd done it. But the man simply smiled, handed her a couple of rolls and a fruit juice on a small tray, saying "I could carry it up for you."
"No, thanks", she smiled, "I'll take it up myself."
"Ah, somebody gave me this to give you, miss." He said, handing her an envelope. "And you had some calls, but the operator has written it down somewhere.."
"Thank you"
She got in her room and discarded in a second the torn, obscene lingerie and dress she had on. Then she had a long shower, hot, accurate: she washed every part, orifice, nook and cranny of her body, then made an inventory and, suddenly, felt like crying. Bruises, cuts, red signs blotted her perfect body: her nipples were sore, but the worst part was her pussy and asshole. They had been thoroughly ripped, her once tight, almost virginal pussy being now a gaping, sore hole. Just remembering it was revolting: suddenly, she felt a deep nausea and ran to the toilet, vomiting all the food she had just eaten. But she felt slightly better, afterwards; she drank some water, cleaned her bright white teeth thoroughly and settled down to her breakfast.
She ate three bread rolls, avidly. Then, as the clerk had soaked the rolls with a powerful sleep-inducer, she fell asleep.
The following afternoon, she finally awoke. Her head was heavy, an aftermath of the whiskey and pills and abuse, and she remained in the best for some hours again. Natasha checked again her body, and began to cry again. It was obviously impossible to go to make any pictures at Playman's now. She had been abused so wildly that, except for the face, any other part of her body carried some damage, and Playgirls had to be perfect.
She cried a lot. The memories of the days before crept out slowly, and any other situation she remembered was making her ache. And she had plenty of reasons to remember: the first time she tried to go to the loo she nearly fainted out of the sheer pain of having some shit travelling in her rectum.
But she was alive, at last. She ate in her room, the clerk carrying another huge platter of sandwiches and cakes over in her room. After so many rapes and abuses, the weaselly clerk, that she had always despised as 'unclean' or 'sneaky', looked extremely nice, even attractive. Well, it was all over. Now it was time to begin another time, just like nothing had happened. She had to forget: her career would be delayed, of course, but she'd do it all the same.
It was only when she gave the used tray back to the clerk that her eyes felt on the thick envelope that the man had given her the night before. She had forgotten to open it. As soon as the man was out of the door, she opened it, feeling better; some letter, maybe.
Her heart skipped a beat immediately: the first picture of the pack was a very nice portrait of her with a black cock firmly plunged between her lips. The second was the same, only another cock; the third was her on all fours, smiling somewhat coldly to the camera while a young Negro humped her from behind. A 50-bucks bill was given to her; in the next picture, she was licking a pair of white testicles, and a black cock was spurting in her open face the following frame.
Her face had turned in a expression of horror, of sheer, unbelieving shame. She was ruined for good, now! They had the pictures of it all, and the tragedy was that half of them were super-hard-core pics of her apparently well-co-operating and happy to be there. She was taking money to suck cock or being gang-banged and sodomized, by Negroes. Christ, she knew it was the end. Collapsing on the bed, she tried to keep cool, but she simply couldn't manage it. She burst in tears.
The clerk, looking at the scene from the other room, grinned. The man knew that she was in their hands, now; she could do anything they wanted, now. Blackmail was nice, with those young snotty bitches now that the obscene pictures had been spread on the bed by the appalled victim, it was time to act. He let a little bit of gas enter the room, and she was snoring after only three minutes.
The clerk entered and checked the pictures. Natasha had scattered most of them on the bed, so all of them were in open view: grinning, he pulled all the other pictures out of the envelope, got out, then took his universal key and entered the room from the main door, beginning to shake the girl by her shoulders.
"Miss Natasha! Miss Natasha!"
She finally awoke, and looked at the clerk with dizzy eyes. Finally, she connected. "Oh, mister Ronalds.. I must have been sleeping." Her shirt had uncovered her legs, but the clerk didn't look there; he had another part to play.
"Oh, Miss Natasha, we were worried. It's some minutes that we try to connect via telephone, but you didn't answer, though we knew you were in the room. Is everything right?"
"Oh, yes, thank you. You're very kind." Then she froze. The man's eyes had turned to her right, and had changed expression. He had seen the porn pictures spread on the bedspread! Before she could do anything, he turned at her with a different look. She didn't even try to get the pictures away from him. Too late.
"I thought you said that you were working for Playman, Miss Natasha."
"Yes well, yes these pictures are not, really." The girl was cooked. Caught off-guard that way, she was an easy prey again. He chose a photograph of her sucking a huge dark-brown cock. Exhibiting his sterner tone, the clerk said "It's unusual for me to think that Playman could print this kind of pictures, Miss." He said, coldly. Her face was blushing, her head hanging down in helpless shame. "And the owner of this hotel doesn't like to have guests of questionable morality.."
"Oh, no, please!" she groaned. "No, please, do not tell him. Please" she smiled at him, with a pleading expression. The man looked back at her, keeping a stern face but, inside, savoring his triumph over the snotty bitch.
"Very well, Miss. Another envelope has just arrived in the reception. I understand it may be the same kind of pictures. I am forced to deliver it to the Police." He picked up a picture: she was being ass-fucked by another Negro. "This is still illegal in most States. Sodomy, I mean."
She was beaten, humiliated. She just whispered "Oh, please, don't do it." And the clerk smiled, sitting beside her. With deliberate lewdness, he put his left hand on her right thigh, appreciating the slight shiver of humiliation of the girl. "We'll probably find an agreement, Natasha." No 'Miss', this time, she thought. "I'll keep quiet. Of course, I'd like to get a reward for my silence."
"All you want, mister." Surrender. Yes, she had surrendered, and he liked it. But he took it easy.
"Tonight, I'll come here, and we'll talk. By the way, now I understand why the man calling for you was asking if you had got the pictures. He said that he had the tapes ready, too. Nice to know."
He walked out of the room, waving a couple of the dirtiest pictures that he had picked up without asking for her permission, just to let her know that he had the stuff for the blackmail, now. That she was helpless. "Tonight, dear. At 11. Keep the door open." And walked out of the room.
Natasha was appalled, shaken by the horrible news. It was a disaster. She picked up a small typewritten paper that was in the envelope with the pictures.
"Hi, Natasha, glad you're seeing the pictures. We surely hope you will like them. We, and our friends, did really like them and we have plenty more, of course, even more kinky. If you tell anybody what has happened, these pictures will go to a porn magazine at once, with your name, everything. We also have several good tapes of you asking for money to suck our cocks: you're a great actress. One last thing. You might think about doing something stupid: don't do it. You could escape, maybe with a hospitalization, this would attract too much attention: the magazines would get the pictures immediately. And if you die, we've got the address of your family. We do not think you'd like them to know what their daughter was really doing in the USA."
There was no signature, but it wasn't necessary. Natasha fell back on the bed. She felt a human wreck. No, worse: she wasn't even human anymore. She was simply a sex toy. A sex slave. They all hated her. And, thinking to the oncoming night and to the clerk coming to 'visit' her, she fainted on the bed. It was clearly only the beginning of another nightmare..