Carole's Revenge

Carole was then told to join the party, and Ralph forced her to take a big hit off the crack pipe and to wash it down with more whiskey. Then she was rolled onto her back while two more men stepped up and fed their dicks to her. One lifted her legs and plowed his 11-inch dick up her cum-filled cunt while the other pulled her head back and stuck an equally long cock down her throat. Together they worked Carole viciously, pulling her back and forth, and despite her fear, she soon began to lose herself in the sexual rhythm. She barely felt it when the man in her cunt growled and added his load to the one deposited by Ralph, but she sure felt it when the man in her throat exploded deep in her throat. His load was too much and he was in too deep for her to swallow all of it, and a free flow of white cream came out the corners of her mouth.

Next, after being given a couple more hits off the pipe and several hits off a fat spliff that was making the rounds, Carole was lifted up and placed on yet another 10-inch cock. She began to sway seductively as she rode this black cock, her fear having dissolved under the influence of the drugs and the drink. From behind, she felt another big cock rubbing between her butt cheeks then she felt the head push its way into her ass. In front of her were two large dicks, dripping with pre-cum, and she took each in hand and fed them into her mouth, one after the other. Feeling all of her holes being filled by big, hard, black cock finally pushed Carole over the edge, and she felt a white-hot orgasm spear its way through her body.

After that, everything was a cum-filled, smoke-clouded haze. She quickly lost count of how many men fucked her just that afternoon. They soon filled her pussy and ass to overflowing with creamy white cum, and they fed so much cum down her throat that her stomach actually got full. All the time, whiskey, crack and weed made the rounds, fueling Carole's intoxication. As day gave way to night, though, things began to change. Carole finally passed out from her many orgasms and the potent combination of substances in her system, and when she awoke later in the night, she found herself spread-eagled on a filthy bed, her hands and legs handcuffed to the head board and foot board.

Throughout the night, men came and fucked her in one or the other of her holes while she lay naked and cuffed and others simply masturbated over he and shot cum on her body. Sometime later, she was unhooked from the bed, and Ralph cuffed her from behind then marched her cum-filled and cum-covered body back into the main room, where she was double-fucked repeatedly, while they plied her with more liquor, cheap wine and then beer, and more crack and weed. Later, he had her hands cuffed and attached to a hook hanging from a beam where she was offered to everyone who was in the room. When she'd passed out, Ralph had taken a belt to her as she hung there, and after she'd been let down and passed out again, he'd slapped her several times hard across the face, leaving a big welt on the side of her face.

This went on all night; as one group had their fun with her and left, another group would arrive. By the time dawn arrived, Carole was nearly comatose, covered from head to toe with an unbelievably thick coating of cum. About that time, the group that had been using her dragged her outside, laid her down on the grass and peed all over her, to wash off all the cum, as Ralph suggested. Then they brought her back inside, laid her back on the floor and began to draw on her with permanent markers. They covered her from her neck to her knees with lewd comments, including the word "manhole," written in large letters across her abdomen with a big arrow pointing to her pussy, which was red and distended from all of the abuse. Arrows pointing to her asshole, which was equally red, swollen and open, were drawn on her buttocks.

Then they went at her again, filling her aching holes with their huge cocks, as she was once again plied with booze and drugs. Carole's mind was a smoking wreck as they fucked her again and again until she was finally so fucked out that all she could do was lie on the floor while the remnants of the party stood around her and jacked off all over her.

It was dark by the time Ralph and two other men picked her up and threw her in the backseat. By now, Carole was completely unconscious as they drove back to the city. When they reached the motel, they stopped quickly, and Ralph unlocked the door while the two other men picked her up bodily, carried her in, threw her on the floor and left without even bothering to close the door. Even as they were leaving, they could hear the sound of a man hollering from across the parking lot for them to stop, but, of course, they ignored him and drove off.

Mark had started worrying when Carole had failed to show at the house on Saturday morning. He had tried calling her room, but got no answer. Finally, he had gone to the motel to check on her, and had gotten concerned when he saw her car there, but got no answer when he knocked. He had persuaded the motel manager to let him in, and while nothing seemed out of place, he did notice the chain had been ripped from the wall, indicating that someone had entered with some force. He had contacted his friends at the police department, but they had advised him to wait a day or two and she would probably turn up. Mark had been parked across the parking lot when he had seen the big car drive into the lot and carry an obviously unconscious Carole into the room then leave. He would never forget the sight of his lovely wife lying on the floor, covered in sticky cum, her hair wet and stringy with cum, sweat and piss. Cum was still oozing out of her grossly distended pussy and ass, and their lewd writing was still all over her body.

When he got into the room, he slammed the door then bent down to Carole's face to see if she was still breathing. She was, so he picked her up and carried her to the bed, and when she did she vomited a vile combination of cum and the remnants of liquor into a trashcan. When she had finished emptying her stomach, she was semi-coherent, and at first tried to fight Mark off before she realized who he was. And then she broke into complete hysterics, sobbing uncontrollably as Mark took her in his arms and held her tight, ignoring the filth covering her body.

"You've 'sniff' got got to 'snort' hel… help me," she finally managed to say. When Mark finally had her calmed down somewhat, she was shuddering all over and blubbering madly, but she finally managed to say, "You've got to get me out of there. They're going to kill me if I have to continue. Please, Mark, don't leave me. They'll come back and kill me. They said if I told anyone what they did to me, they'd come back and shoot me. Please, please, God, take me home! I can't stand this any more!"

Mark finally got Carole calmed down enough to put a heavy robe on her and helped her to the car. First he took her to the emergency room at the hospital, where a doctor did a thorough examination. There she told a police officer, in halting, confused tones as much as she could remember of her terrifying ordeal at the hands of Ralph and his friends. In spite of his anger and concern, Mark had had the presence of mind to get photographs of the car and of Ralph and company carrying Carole into the room. After he'd gotten Carole settled down, he'd also taken pictures of the condition they'd left her body. That, plus the doctor's report gave them plenty of evidence against Ralph. Mark had determined that here was a bastard who was going to go down hard. When they got home, he carried Carole up the stairs, got her cleaned up and put her to bed, where she slept off and on for the next two days.

When Carole was well enough to take visitors, Mark invited a detective friend of his, one of several who were helping with the investigation into the Bournes, for a further interview. While he was there, Carole told him her story about being coerced by the Bournes into becoming their whore.

Earlier, one of the first people to visit was Mary Jones, who had come by the house on Monday evening, after Mark had told her what had happened to Carole that weekend. After Carole dozed back off, Mary and Mark took a walk in the back yard and had had a long talk, and they decided that they needed to accelerate their timetable for moving against the Bournes.

"As soon as she's well enough, you need to swing into action," Mark said. Then he looked the petite young black girl up and down. "So are you, um, one of Carole's 'special' friends?"

Mary blushed, as much as blacks can blush, but nodded her head.

"She's very special to me," Mary answered. "I've never had a woman I can confide in like I can with Carole. I never had any sisters, my mom worked all the time, and I never connected with the other women in that office like I have with her. I really love her, and I'm going to hate to lose her when this all breaks loose."

"Maybe you don't have to," Mark said. "After things settle down, maybe we can, um, take a long weekend, the three of us, and, I don't know, see what happens. I want Carole to be happy, and if that means I have to share her on occasion, well, I think I can live with that."

Mary stared at Mark for long, pregnant seconds, a grin spreading across her face. "You are something; no wonder Carole adores you so," she said finally. "I'll have to think about that."

"You know that just might be the entree we can use to get the Bournes distracted while we make our move," Mark said. "Do you think you and Carole could maybe arrange a little foursome, get them hot and bothered while we move in with the authorities? That way they wouldn't be able to get wind of what's going on and possibly make a run for it. Think you can pull off something like that?"

Mary smiled devilishly at the thought. "I think you're onto something, Mr. Banning," she said. Then, on impulse, she pulled him to her and kissed him deeply on the mouth. "That's for later," she said when they came up for air. Mark looked at the dark-skinned beauty then pulled her to him and kissed her again. This time they embraced each other tightly, and Mary found herself grinding her jean-covered groin against Mark's rock-hard cock, which strained against his jeans.

Finally, Mark pulled himself away, and they were both panting with barely suppressed lust. "You know, you are very sexy, and part of me wants to throw you down right now and fuck the hell out of you," he said in a soft, husky voice. "But not now, not here. There's a woman we both love up there who's recovering from a horrific ordeal, and this isn't the right time for us. Besides, I promised Carole and I promised myself that my next sexual encounter would be with her, when she's finally mine again. I want it to be an experience she'll never forget. But I promise you, when we get settled back down, I am going to get some of this." Then he squeezed the crotch of Mary's jeans tightly, gave her another quick kiss then they walked back to the house.

Carole ended up staying home from the office the entire week. Her physical injuries healed in a few days, but the emotional hurts took a little more time. And there was something else about her condition that had scared the hell out of her. When she had awakened on Monday, almost the first thing she wanted was a hit of crack. Over the course of the long weekend, Ralph had managed to build a small addiction to the stuff in her body, and she had the cravings for several days afterward. It was agony for a while, but she gritted her teeth and sweated it out, determined not to let Ralph defeat her in that manner.

So when she went back the next Monday, her heart wasn't in her work. She was ready for the whole sorry affair to be over, and that was reflected in her performance. She was just going through the motions, and eventually word reached the big office that the liaison officer was falling down on the job. Late on Thursday, Carole was just cleaning up from another unsatisfactory encounter, when she got a call from Paul Bourne asking her to come to his office.

"Sit down, Carole," Paul said in an even tone. When she had seated herself on the big sofa, Paul continued. "I've been getting some reports that you have become, shall we say, less than enthusiastic about your work. They're saying you don't show the same fire you have been showing. Do Peter and I have to give you a lesson in obedience? You know, our birthday is next Tuesday, and I could arrange a little session to remind you of your place in this company."

"I'm sorry, Paul, I was very sick last week and I'm still not 100 percent," Carole said. She hadn't told him what his security chief had done to her. Suddenly, it hit her. Here was her opportunity to bait the hook and reel in the brothers. So she stood up and walked seductively over to Paul's desk, leaning over the desk to give him a good view of her tits, which jiggled naked under her loose blouse. "Tuesday's your birthday, is it?" she said in her sweetest honeydew voice. Then she walked around behind his chair and began massaging his neck and shoulders. "How about if I give you and Peter a big surprise for your birthday? I have something in mind that I think you'll like. I know you like to watch women in action together. I think I can arrange a little show that'll put some iron in your rod. You just make sure you have plenty of those pills you like to take, and I think we can give you a birthday you'll never forget."

Paul was intrigued. "You and who?" he asked. For some reason, the Bournes had never made a move to fuck Mary, although she had worked for them for six years. Mary figured it was just racism, that they couldn't bring themselves to fuck a black woman. But Carole had heard them talk plenty about how attractive Mary was – for a black girl, as they nauseatingly put it – so she didn't think it was that. Carole figured that it was just that they wanted to keep the sexual phase of their operation separate from the legitimate areas, and Mary was in fact a bona fide personal secretary, handling all of their business appointments and correspondence, and she was very good at her work.

"That's part of the surprise," Carole said coyly. "How about we make it a date for 10 in the morning Tuesday, and I promise you I'll show you more enthusiasm than you thought possible." Carole held her breath as she waited for Paul to make his decision. This was where she would set the hook and everything hinged on him taking the bait.

After several long seconds, Paul laughed and nodded his head. "You really are a born slut," he said. "OK, 10 o'clock it is. I'll tell Peter to be ready for a wild day."

When Carole got back to her room after work, she called Mark and told him they were set for Tuesday. Mark was ready. He had spent the intervening weeks investigating the Bournes and assisting the various law enforcement agencies in compiling information. It turned out that the feds had been sniffing around the company for years, for suspected tax violations and violations of insider trading laws. But the company had always presented a united front, and they had never been able to get their feet in the door. Warren Somes and Mary Jones, among a few others, gave the government their wedge, handing over detailed information on the company, and they were ready to exploit it. Henry Henderson, too, had been contacted and had made a deal to avoid prosecution for his role in the frauds the company had perpetrated on its hapless victims.

City and state authorities, meanwhile, had followed Mark's trail and run down as many of the previous women who had been used by the Bournes as they could find and gotten statements from them. Mark had also paid a visit to the penitentiary, where he visited Karla Jackson, the woman the Bournes had framed when she refused to become their whore, and her attorney. They had started the process for nullifying her conviction and getting her out of prison.

Another tricky interview was running down the family of Tammy Peters, who had been one of the earlier liaison officers. Tammy had been so distraught by her life as the company whore and the impending divorce that her actions had caused that she'd pulled her car into her garage one morning after her husband had left for work, pulled the garage door down, stuck a vacuum cleaner hose from the exhaust pipe into a window of the car, laid back in the front seat and quietly died from carbon monoxide poisoning. However, because she failed to leave a suicide note, police had never made the connection between her death and her work at Bourne and Bourne. Mark eventually found her ex-husband and her adult children and led them to the authorities. Her death would be a key element in the charges against the Bournes.

All of this information Mark had funneled to Jamal Ward, the new investigative reporter at the paper, the young man the paper had been interviewing when Carole had turned up at the restaurant with Henry Henderson. He was building up to a major package on the Bournes to run when Mark gave the paper the go-ahead. It was all coming together. The Bournes didn't know it, for everyone involved had kept a tight lid on any potential leaks, but the investigation into their many nefarious practices had picked up all the momentum of a winter avalanche.

The last Tuesday in October dawned clear and sunny, the kind of Indian summer day that makes autumn in the South the best time of year. The first person from Bourne and Bourne to learn what was happening was Ralph, who was intercepted by three patrol cars that morning while on his way to work. He was arrested and charged with kidnapping and rape, among many other charges, including possession of drugs with intent to distribute. They had wanted the security chief out of the way before he ever got to the building so he would be unable to warn the Bournes of trouble.

An army of local, state and federal officers then waited for 11 a.m., time enough to allow Carole and Mary time to get the Bournes thoroughly preoccupied before they advanced on the building.

Peter and Paul had stoked themselves up with a double dose of Viagra in anticipation of Carole's big surprise. They had made a game out of guessing who Carole's partner would be, and they were ready and roaring when 10 o'clock arrived. They had given Mary the day off, as was their custom when they were entertaining the liaison officer, and the phone in the outer office had been set for the answering machine to pick up any incoming calls.

Right on time, Carole strode through the bathroom dressed in a see-through white negligee, complete with a pair of thong panties. "OK, where's this surprise?" Peter asked impatiently.

"First, sit over here on the sofa and get comfortable," Carole cooed. When they were seated, she knelt in front of them and removed their shoes and socks, taking time to feel liberally between their legs at the already stiffening cocks in their slacks. "Oooh! I see you are ready." Then turning her head to the bathroom, she told Mary to come in. The Bournes were stunned to see their personal secretary walk in to the room with a sexy strut, her usual efficient business attire replaced by a purple negligee that showed off her small, brown-tipped tits. The Brothers had somehow never looked at Mary as a sexual creature, because she had always been so shy and mousy in their presence. But this was no mouse. She looked like an African goddess, stylishly made up, with pink lip-gloss and her hair shimmering in its tight rings of curls that hung almost to her shoulders.

Carole, too, was exotically made up, the sheer white material showing off her pink nipples, which were stiff in apparent arousal. Wordlessly, the two women came together in a hot embrace, and their lips quickly found each other. They kissed passionately, their tongues wrestling and their hands roaming all over each other's body. Carole paid particular attention to Mary's tits, having learned that Mary loved having her nipples played with. Carole bent down, and kissed, licked and sucked each of the hard tips through the gauzy material of her outfit. Working her way down, she knelt in front of her lover and ran her hands between Mary's legs, where a wet spot was rapidly growing in the crotch of her thong.