Olivia Ch. 03byStoryTeller07©
The sight of their friends fucking the beautiful female body was too much for them, they needed to relieve the ache. It didn't mater who or what she was they just needed her. They pulled Olivia to her knees, positioning her stiff body on all fours. One of them lay next to her then pulled her on top.
He felt her collapse upon him with her breasts squashed against his chest.
She felt this cock against her belly. "No! Please sir! Don't let them take me. I can't take anymore," she whimpered, knowing each of them was going to take his turn. Unable to find the strength to move, let alone fight, she lay sprawled over the young man under her.
"Don't tell me the whore is full up with cum. She's not much of a sperm bucket is she!" he laughed. His friends weren't listening for they were too intent on entering her lovely white body.
Someone positioned himself behind her, grabbing a pair of thin hips. Another of them grabbed a fistful of hair to pull her mouth over his cock. They didn't count down, or say a word to co-ordinate it, they just thrust in when ready. Her bottom and vagina was well lubricated with the gangs cum so they slid in easily.
Her body bounced around between them in quick jerks from three cocks viciously thrusting into her. Quietly she moaned a string of invective cursing everything and everyone in her life.
The nightmare would soon be over she kept telling herself.
A boy flogged himself over her back unable to wait for a hole to become available. They just saw her as a three-hole fuck slut. She had been reduced to a thing to be used.
Again it was over quickly. They were so near before starting they needed little friction to spurt their sperm into her prone body. The young man standing close shot his load over her back and hair.
She lay on the hard floor without enough strength to pull her body into a protective ball.
Olivia didn't hear them arguing about what to do next for she was almost out cold. Her body was bruised and her mind in turmoil. They had pounded her pussy and her ass so hard she was sore inside.
Mathew had two of them drag her into a shower where they hosed her down. The cold water brought her round. When it was turned off she huddled on the floor trying to block out where she was and what was happening.
"Here, get dressed," Mathew told her.
Slowly and painfully she drew the clothes together he had thrown at her. It was clear they weren't hers but thankful to be covering her body she pulled them on.
The skirt wasn't much more than a belt. The blouse was too small and the buttons had been ripped off, so she tied it in a knot, baring her midriff. Even without a bra it pulled her breasts into a deep cleavage with them almost hanging out.
"Where are you taking me? Haven't you done enough? Please just let me go, Sir." she wailed.
Mathew slapped her bare ass and propelled her out of the building. She tried to cover herself as with every step the little skirt bobbed up showing off the bottom of her cheeks.
"Don't talk unless you are told to bitch. We are going to show off our trophy white meat, then get rid of you," he said.
"Get rid of me? You can't kill me, please sir," she begged. "I'll do anything, please, Sir, just let me go. Please sir, I'll be good, I won't tell anyone, I'll do anything you say, honest sir," she babbled.
He slapped her face laughing at her. "I told you to be silent." He didn't mean to kill her, he meant to show her off then dump her at the bus station. What did she think he was? "What do you think, you stupid white trash," he said. They pushed her into a beat-up old car.
She tumbled onto the back seat and managed to sit up between two of them. Was this to be the big one way ride? She had heard about how violent street gangs were.
She scrabbled around in her memory for something, anything that might save her. She remembered reading a Sunday supplement about gangs keeping gang-girls at their club house. She didn't believe it at the time, thinking it was just sensationalism for the white middle classes to be outraged over.
She grabbed a hand and pressed it to a breast. Another young hand she pulled up the tiny skirt shoving a finger into her pussy. "Let me be your gang-girl. I know what to do, I'll fuck you all. I'll do whatever you say. Just let me," she broke off with a sob. She wanted to live!
She was too scared to say the word die. Inside the car and outside seemed to be in stark black and white. It seemed too bright. Her eyes took in every detail as though this were her last moments.
"Can we keep her Mat," the guy next to her asked, while enjoying fingering her.
She willed him to say yes. She tried to encourage the one next to her by whispering in his ear. "Keep me and you can fuck me whenever you like. You can have my ass and I'll give you blow jobs. Just keep me as your gang slut." she told him.
She encouraged him to ask Mathew again by squirming on his fingers, pretending to be excited.
"She wants to be our gang slut, she's real hot, we should keep her," he suggested again.
"Yes, let me be your slut. All the gang can have me, I'll fuck real well," she pleaded desperately.
"There's twenty in our gang, think you can handle that?" Mathew shot back at her. He had no intention of keeping her, she was trouble. Though a little fun could be had while she thought she was for the high jump.
"You want to look after twenty young virile men every night, whore?" he teased.
Olivia thought this was the gang and they didn't seem interested in taking her again. She was trying to buy time but the thought of servicing twenty of these rough psychopaths almost broke her completely.
It was still light and the rough neighbourhood they were travelling around depressed all hope of help. She hadn't seen a police car. She looked at the door handle wondering if she should try it.
She whimpered as they pulled at her manoeuvring her round on the seat. She didn't have the strength to fight. Before she knew what was happening she was jammed into the window frame with her ass outside. All she could think of was at least this way no-one could recognise her. Not that anyone she knew would be in such a rough neighbourhood.
They cruised around then stopped where a group of men walked over. "Yo Mat. What you got there? Bit of skinny white booty," one of them laughed.
"You got the cash you can have it," he said.
Olivia's skin crawled. She was drowning in an agony of degradation. Her pussy and asshole were on view to complete strangers and it was being offered for sale. She was jammed tight, half hanging out of the window and couldn't move. Her head, legs and arms were on the inside with just her bottom hanging out.
"You still want to be our whore? Or what?" Mathew taunted.
Surely they couldn't sell her on the street in broad daylight. This was some kind of mad test. Perhaps if she passed they might not kill her. "Yes," she stammered in a whisper.
"Can't hear you girl," he shouted at her.
Only yesterday she had a pampered life of luxury in her father's home. If someone dared look at her in the wrong way her father would have them sued with a team of lawyers. She thought of the pool guy, but if this was retribution from the gods it was too much to pay.
"I'm you're whore, Sir. I'll do whatever you want, sir," she moaned.
"She's a polite whore but right here on the street? You're mad bro," he laughed. "I've got five, what'll that buy me?" he asked.
"You got five minutes, do what you like," he told the stranger.
The crowd of young men hid him from view of anyone passing so he handed over a five.
Olivia felt his hands on her ass and gasped. His hands were all over her crotch, fingers from both hands exploring roughly. She whimpered but dare not speak. She couldn't even see who it was. Evidently he was excited for a much harder, bigger object entered her. His cock thrust in and she cried out.
Olivia wanted to beg them to stop but the words didn't form, just a pitiful sound of abject dread was emitted. She felt for the third time that evening a spurt of cum hit her insides. Another of them took his place but this time he didn't bother touching her he just rammed his cock into her asshole.
She yelped in pain, though it was easier to take him, for she was no longer a virgin. The very idea of it was repulsive for no one had taken her there, not even her ex-husband. These filthy barbarians had raped her tight little virgin ass. They were stretching it with every thrust making it into just another fuck hole.
Olivia lost count of how many took her pussy and asshole. It had become a competition between them to see who could cum the quickest. The noise was attracting attention and she hoped someone would save her.
As they drove off she could feel their sperm in her body. The very feel of it was repulsive. They made her sit on an old cloth where it slopped out of her open holes.
"She sure is some sperm bucket," one of the gang told Mathew.
"The whore no use to us, so one more stop and we get rid of her," Mathew told his friends.
Did this mean they were going to kill her? After all that she had suffered it didn't seem such a bad prospect, she just hoped it was quick. She had given up all hope of being rescued or ever being free. Not even a common whore would have done what she had. Her pussy had been used and abused by strangers she hadn't even seen and it was from a car window, on the street.
They stopped outside a mall where they hustled her into a store. One of them wiped the mess from between her legs while she just sat there. With her head hung in shame, hiding her face under long auburn hair, she didn't see what kind of place it was.
They sat her in a large leather chair and looking round saw it was a tattoo store. She shivered in fright.
"I was going to make you our gang slut but changed my mind. Instead we are going to send you on your way with a little reminder of the fun you had," he told her.
"Please, sir." She looked down between his feet hoping he would let her speak otherwise she would have to endure a slap but she had to stop them.
"What you got to say whore," he said.
"Please, sir. Don't tattoo me," she pleaded. The thought of something ugly and permanent marking her body was sickening. A permanent reminder of this evil day couldn't be tolerated. She would have to fight knowing it was hopeless.
"I just told you bitch. We ain't gonna make you our gang bitch, so no gang tattoo," Mathew told her.
They pulled the chair back and hoisted her legs up. With knees fitted into stirrups they had a perfect view of her pussy. She struggled but the chair held her firmly in place.
Mathew stood buy while one of the guys ran electric clippers between her legs. She was already trimmed but they were removing everything. Despite having suffered such a terrible ordeal this seemed so much more humiliating.
"Keep still we don't want mistakes here," he laughed.
They were all intently staring at her crotch enthralled with the view of her legs spread wide. Unable to close her eyes she watched the young guy clipping away at her only protection. When he pulled upon her sore lips she yelped. The razor skimmed over her pussy not sparing anything. Every hair was cut away.
A couple of them felt her bald pussy telling the others how smooth it was.
"Can we have her again, Mat?" one of them asked.
In that helpless position they could stand there looking at her while fucking and she cringed at the idea of it.
"No! She's too dirty a whore for us. It's getting late, we got to drop her off," Mathew ordered. "Put some make-up on slut. I want you looking pretty."
This must mean they weren't going to kill her. Catching sight of herself in a mirror for the first time she wondered that she didn't look a hundred years old. The clothes she wore were from a young gang slut and that's what she looked like. The heavy make-up completed the look to perfection.
She hardly recognised herself. With a slim figure she looked young but not innocent. Her breasts were on show and everything else when the tiny skirt bounced up.
Olivia couldn't understand why this was happening to her. What had she done to be suffering this way? She was a beautiful twenty-eight year old woman and not long ago had been a high society debutant. If she had any more tears left she would have flooded the place.
The person looking back at her was a stupid little slag. A gang-girl would look old before her time and Olivia looked the part. She was supposed to be a teenager and she would pass dressed like this, if they didn't look too closely. Instead of being admired decent people would turn away.
Gone were the designer clothes to be replaced by a cheap blouse and a skirt a hooker would be embarrassed wearing. With lurid make-up plastered on the image was too real. She had helped transform herself into the cheapest of whores.
After such ill use and the way she had reacted, offering herself to them in a most vile way, she felt empty. She felt her self-esteem crumble to nothing knowing whatever they had planned would be submitted to. However vile the chore, she would carry it out like the obedient little slut she had become.