tagNonConsent/ReluctanceAll Night Cafe

All Night Cafe


"There's one," Brenda said as we came over the crest of a hill.

We'd been driving through the night hoping to get home without having to spend another night at a motel. Right now we both needed a cup of coffee and decided that we'd stop at the next gas station where it looked as though we could get coffee as well as gas.

The country road had been pleasant to drive until darkness shut off the view of the landscape. But now two lanes, twisting and curving into the blackness had worn us down. We needed to stop. Coffee and maybe something to eat would ramp up our energy for the last several hours home.

This place wasn't especially inviting, but there hadn't been anything else for a long time. If we were going to stop, it better be here. The gas pumps were old. Convenient payment with a credit card was not an option. There were just two of them, a testament to how few travelers used this route. We pulled in next to the further one. A handwritten sign on the glass directed the user to go inside. "Pay before you pump" it said.

Brenda hopped out and took off the gas cap. I went inside to give the attendant a credit card. He saw me coming and, rather unbelievably, came around from his station at the register and opened the door for me. I gave him one of my better smiles and a sincere thank you.

"Gets lonely out here this time of night," he said. "Don't know why they keep this place open all night. No one out here to buy gas this time of night." Then rather under his breath as though anyone cared what he said, he added, "Or any other time for that matter."

"Well, we're glad you're open," I responded. "We don't really need gas, but we were hoping you'd have coffee. That's what we really need."

"Don't have any fresh, but if you ladies would like to wait a minute or two, I'll be happy to make some. I could use some myself," he told me.

He took my credit card and made his way behind the register where he pushed a button and set a dial so the pump would operate. By this time I could see that Brenda had the nozzle in the tank. She nodded as the gas began pumping into the tank. It wouldn't take long to fill it unless his pump was really slow. It really didn't matter. We both wanted coffee and his offer to make a fresh pot was very attractive.

"Sure," I said. "I'll do the windows while you do the coffee."

"OK. Won't take but a minute," he said turning now toward the coffee machine.

I went back outside and told Brenda the plan. Then I took up the squeegee from its murky bath and started on the windows. The dirty water running off the windows made streaks of "almost clean" in the dust that covered the car's paint. The pump clicked off soon after I started on the windows. Brenda finished with the gas detail, replacing the cap and the pump nozzle. She went in to retrieve my credit card and claim her cup of coffee.

I finished with the windows and followed her inside two or three minutes later.

"Sit," the attendant said. "I'll bring the coffee over there. Do you take sugar or cream?"

"Both," we responded almost in unison as we found a old, but fairly clean table. The tables were located at the back of the small station in a corner. Racks of candy and chips were nearby, temptingly near. The candy and chip rack helped create a somewhat secluded alcove for the tables.

We said nothing for a few minutes. Then the attendant showed up with the coffee as well as the sugar and cream all on a small tray.

"Thanks," we said as he set the coffees in front of each of us. The cream and sugar he put in the center of the table. He left and returned with stirrers and napkins.

"Mind if I join you," he asked as he supplied us with the last necessaries of drinking coffee. How could we say yes, we mind, we really don't want some gas station attendant sitting at this small table with us? Instead we said, sure, sit down.

He wasn't a bad looking guy and he seemed pleasant enough. Maybe, I thought, some fresh company and conversation would help refresh us for the last two hours of the trip. He looked to be around our age meaning conversation wouldn't be stilted by generational gaps.

He came back with a cup of coffee for himself and sat with us. We talked about where we'd been and what we'd been doing on this trip. He told us that he was just doing this job part time to make money to go to college. It was a conversation like any other.

After a bit he got up to refill our coffee. He returned with the pot and refilled our cups, but instead of sitting, he said, "I want to show you girls something."

We looked at him as he pulled a rather small gun from his jacket pocket. "What's that," I asked uttering the stupidest question of my life.

"It's a gun, you dumb broad," he said angrily, "and if you don't cooperate, I'm going to use it to put holes in you and your friend."

I don't think I'd ever been so terrified in my life. I know I stuttered. Both of shrank back as though to get away from him, but obviously there was nothing we could do, nowhere to go. We were trapped at the back of a small building. A rack of candy and chips prevented escape to the door. All the super hero stuff you think you might do, grab the gun, say something clever, that kind of stuff never even came to mind.

He dropped a pair of what looked like police issue handcuffs on the table. "Cuff her to that shelf." He pointed to a shelf that was attached to the wall. "Move!"

Brenda stood and backed fearfully to the shelf. The steel shelf he had indicated was just about head height for Brenda. She held her hands up and I cuffed them running the chain of the handcuffs through the steel lattice work of the shelf. I didn't look at her. All I could look at was that gun pointed as it was at my gut.

"Alright," he said, "you come with me." He motioned me toward the cash register with the gun. I moved in that direction but walked sideways. For some reason I was afraid to take my eyes off the gun. I stumbled a bit on merchandise in the aisle. At the end of the aisle I tripped and fell over a short stack of beer. I ended up sitting on the floor terrified he'd shoot me. I wasn't really hurt, but my butt stung from hitting the edges of the cans as I fell. Fear and the pain from the cans made me start to cry.

"Ah, shut up," he yelled at me menacing me with the gun. I quieted down and got up. With me still walking sideways we continued to the register. "Now, sit," he commanded pointing at the floor in a corner. I sat.

Alternately watching me and what he was doing, he threw a number of switches. Lights went off and soon the only lights on were near the table where we had been drinking coffee and one under the counter here at the register. I could hear Brenda sobbing in the background. I was too afraid of him to cry.

"Get up," he said looking steadily at me. Using the wall, I stood on unsteady legs. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just stared at him waiting for the next command. "Back there," he motioned with the gun for me to go back to the table.

I saw that Brenda's face was streaked with tears when we returned to the table. "Stand next to her," he said. His voice and demeanor had calmed somewhat. "I'm going to fuck both of you. If you cooperate, I'll let you go. If you give me trouble, I'll have to punish you. If I have to, I'll kill you. If I have to kill one of you, I'll kill both of you. You got that?" I got that. Brenda nodded.

I was looking at the beginning of a nightmare something you'd heard about and read about, but not something that would ever happen to you. Could I be a hero. I realized quickly I wasn't a hero, in fact I was a coward. I thought I'd rather make it through the upcoming ordeal than get killed. I was terrified. I was so scared I could hardly stand up.

I nodded. Brenda nodded again. "Fine," he said a bit of triumph in his voice. "You," he pointed the gun at me. I held my breath. "Take off your jeans." My hand was shaking so that I could hardly undo the button and push my jeans down. My panties started to come with them. With shaking hands I held them up while I pushed my jeans with the other.

He laughed, "Honey, you're going to take those panties off anyway. Just pull them down with your jeans."

To be so close to being so naked in front of this man was horrible. I let go my panties and pulled them off with my jeans. Without being told I took off my sandals as well. The cold of the linoleum on the soles of my feet underscored my nakedness.

I stood. The shirt I was wearing stopped above my waist so there was nothing now covering me from the hem of the shirt down. I've never felt so naked and vulnerable in my life.

"Now the shirt and whatever you got on under it. I want to see your tits," he was waving the gun around as he talked.

I stripped off my shirt, then reluctantly, my bra. Letting them drop to the cold linoleum I was now completely naked. I tried to cover myself with my arms and hands. "Put your hands down. I want to see you," he yelled. I stood as straight as I could.

He looked. He looked at my breasts then pointedly at my pussy. "Turn around. I want a look at your ass," he commanded. I turned. "OK, let me see those tits again." I turned again. "God, you make me hard," he hissed emphasizing each word.

"Grab your nipples and pull your tits out for me," another command. I did what he told me to do. It hurt. "More." I pulled harder my mouth too dry to complain.

"Now spread your pussy." Being naked wasn't enough. I was to be humiliated. I opened myself to him. "Turn around and spread so I can see your ass." I did. I began to think I'd do most anything just to get this over with.

"OK, turn back."

When I was facing him again, he said, "You got three holes, where do you want it first," he asked.

"What," I said, confused. I was dismayed at having to participate in my own rape by telling my rapist where I "wanted" it first.

He responded as if I hadn't understood him. "If you want it in your pussy, lie on the floor and pull your ankles up to your head. If you want it in the ass, bend over the table. If you want to suck me off, kneel here," he pointed the gun to a spot right in front of him. "If you take it in the pussy first, she gets it in the ass first," he pointed the gun at Brenda who jumped and let out a whine. "If you suck me first, she gets to decide where she wants it."

While he gave me these decisions to make, he was unzipping his pants. He reached inside and fought to pull out his hard penis. He pointed it at me. "Which will it be, sweet thing?"

I'd sucked off a boyfriend once. He held my head so that when he came, I couldn't get out of the way. Some I was able to let run out of my mouth, but most I swallowed. Never again, I'd promised myself.

But having him stick that thing in my butt sounded awful, too. I'd never had anyone do that, but I'd read about it. It has to hurt. Brenda was sobbing without letup. She couldn't talk, all she could do was sob and gasp. Could I let her be the one to have his cock up the butt. She was completely unable to help me make this awful decision. God, I was scared. I felt so vulnerable standing there completely naked unable to say or do anything.

I was facing refrigerated place where they sold cold beer. I could see myself reflected in the glass doors. He could see all of me. My breasts stood out on my chest. Even my nipples were hard from the cool air that blew steadily past me. My neatly shaved pussy was ready for my boyfriend when I got home. Now it would be used by someone else first. I wished I had left some covering instead of shaving it all off. Now you could practically look straight up inside me. My clit normally protruded some. Now he could look right at it. I had nowhere to hide any of me.

Suddenly he hit Brenda in the stomach. She screamed and pitched forward. Only her handcuffed arms held her upright. She began gasping for air. She was going to hyperventilate. "Next time maybe I'll shoot her in the knee," he was screaming at me again.

Utterly confused, I bent over the little table where only a few minutes before we'd been drinking coffee. I shuffled so that my ass faced him and that hard prick. He grabbed my hips and roughly pulled me toward him. I felt his cock ram me. It was nowhere near the right place. "Put something on it," I heard myself gasp.

"What," he growled, "if you think I putting one of those stinkin' rubbers on it, you're crazy."

"No," I pleaded, "Vaseline."

"Oh," he said understanding my need. "You want it to slip in easier."

"Please," was all I could get out.

"Come on," he growled again dragging me by the arm. We went to an aisle in the center of the small store. There I saw diapers and other baby stuff. "Pick out what you'd like. Take anything." I think he believed he was being magnanimous. I found some A & D ointment and handed it to him. He took it and dragged me to the table.

He handed me the tube. "Open it," he told me. I struggled with the package. It had been packaged in such a way that a would-be thief would have a hard time getting it out.

Brenda had quieted some, but was looking at me wide-eyed. "Hurry up or I'll take another shot at your girl friend." Brenda cringed visibly.

I hurried and finally got the package open. I tried to hand it back to him. "You do it," he said. First put some on my cock. I want to feel you work it in real good."

Feeling revulsion, I took hold of his cock and spread the ointment on it. As I rubbed in on, I felt it throb. It shone when I finished. As I looked at it I became even more frightened knowing that he meant to push that thing up my ass. I stared at it until he grabbed me again and started to push me down on the table. "No," I said as loudly as I could, "wait. I want some."

"Then hurry up." He shoved me as he let go. I turned my butt away from him. "Oh, no," he said, "I want to see this." He reached for me, but I turned around allowing him to watch me as I lubricated my butt for his assault. I smeared the ointment all around my butt. "You better put some up inside there, too, sweetie. I aim to give you a good fucking." Mortified I resumed and actually stuck my finger up inside pushing as much ointment inside as I could.

He grabbed me by the hips before I finished. My head thudded against the table top as he pulled my hips back and up, taking my feet off the ground momentarily. Then his prick found my butt and began to search for the opening. He rammed his cock against me while at the same time he pulled my hips back against his cock. He could have turned me loose and guided his cock inside, but he seemed to prefer battering me looking for the right hole.

After a number of tries I felt his cock at the opening. Now he used a steady pressure to force himself inside. I tried to relax. Then I felt it open and widen as the head of his cock made its way in. Then came the pain as his cock burst through and he was inside. He forced me against the table and pushed his hands under me until he was able to grip my breasts. He squeezed my breasts and nipples as he began to batter my butt.

This went on and on until I felt his cock swell. He stopped thrusting violently then relaxed his grip. I could feel him cumming inside me, then I felt it run out and down my legs. He kept it inside moving it slowly.

Finally he stopped altogether and pulled out. God was I glad to have him out. I hurt, but it was only the beginning of how I would hurt.

"Go over there and get some paper towels to clean all this gook off," he said pointing again with the gun to where paper towels sat on a shelf.

My legs wouldn't work properly, but I made my way to the roll of towels and returned with them. As I handed them to him he said, "You do it. And do a good job or I'll make you do it with your mouth."

I carefully cleaned that nasty prick but as I did I realized that he was really getting off having me rub his cock so carefully. It hardened and swelled. "Get it all nice for your friend," he chided me.

"Can I get some soap and wash it off for Brenda," I pleaded.

"Yeah, get it out of the restroom, but don't let the door close when you go in or I'll beat the shit out of your girl friend." Saying this he slapped Brenda. I know it hurt her, but he didn't actually hit her hard enough to do any damage.

Nodding, I scampered for the ladies room, got a handful of liquid soap and a wet paper towel and returned. I cleaned his cock and dried it. I could hardly believe that I was getting it ready to rape Brenda.

He looked at Brenda then back at me. "You're going to have to get those clothes off her. Get going. Start with her shirt. I want to see her tits."

Brenda has nice breasts. They are what sculptors chisel on those beautiful Greek statues. Her nipples are quite pointed especially when they get hard. I know these things because she and her boyfriend like to have me watch as he undresses her and plays with her before they made love.

Now this rapist would get to see her nakedness and use her anyway he wanted.

I pushed her top up over her head. The handcuffs prevented me from taking it all the way off. I pushed it off over her head and down in back of her neck so it didn't cover her face. She stood in her bra looking as terrified as I felt. "Get behind her and push that thing up off her tits." I did. Pushing up, sliding her bra off her breasts. Her hard nipples slid across the palms of my hands as her breasts fell from the confines of her bra.

"That's nice stuff," he said feeling her breasts, squeezing them and pinching and pulling her nipples. He grabbed me and did the same. I tried to pull away, but he slapped Brenda again and I stood still while he abused my breasts and nipples. He played with us like this for quite a while. I was beginning to think that maybe he wouldn't rape her after all.

"Alright," he said suddenly, "pull her pants off. With her you can take off her jeans and leave her panties. I want to look at her with just her panties on."

I unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Carefully to avoid dragging her panties down at the same time I pulled them down and off. Her sandals came off easily at the same time. She even lifted her feet to allow me to get them off.

"Move the table under her so she can sit on it." I dragged the table over and she dutifully sat on it. Knowing what was coming and perhaps wanting to get it over with she sat on the edge of the table and spread her legs widely. She was biting her lip. "Look at that pussy," he marveled. Looking at me he said, "Lick that little nub and get it all ready for me."

My god, would it ever end? I felt faint but leaned over Brenda and began licking her clit. Our assailant was playing with our breasts, first hers, then mine, back and forth. Brenda's hips began to move as her breathing became deeper. I turned and faced him. The lubrication from her pussy covered much of my face. "She's ready, I think." The rapist had made me an accomplice again. First I'd decided which "hole" she'd be fucked in, then I'd gotten his cock hard and ready, and now I'd gotten Brenda's pussy lubricated, ready for his cock.

"I think so, too", he said smiling. "You take my cock and guide it home." He used the gun again as a pointer and perhaps to remind me of it.

I took his cock and aimed it at her opening. I felt it throb as the tip made contact with her pussy. They moved together. He slid inside her. I saw her eyes widen briefly. He began to fuck her rhythmically. Faster and faster until once again he climaxed in one of us. Once again his cum ran from one of us onto the floor.

"That was very nice," he sighed. He backed away and found his phone in his jeans on the floor. "Now stand close together." He took picture after picture of us with me in all sorts of embarrassing poses, licking her, my dripping ass, everything he could think of.

"All right, it's time for you girls to run along." He was unlocking Brenda as he said it. We said nothing neither of us wanting to prompt anything further. Another rape would prolong the horror, but he might just decide to kill us. We kept quiet.

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byConcerto_in_A© 4 comments/ 37437 views/ 6 favorites

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