Two young tourist couples pick the wrong biker gang to mess with.
THE SHARK AND SEAL - TOURISTS IN HELL
Ch. 20 – The Anal Virgin, Part 2
“Oh god! Please be gentle, it hurts,” she hissed. Thinner walked to the front of the table and cupped her face.
“Does it really hurt bitch? Tell me just how much it hurts as my brother reams your tight little asshole,” the man prompted. He clearly wanted to get off on hearing her recount every single sensation and moment of her first ass-rape. The man was sick, even for a Frost Demon, and that was saying something…
Meanwhile, a loud shriek erupted from the other end of the room. Apparently one of the men raping the older sister across the way had decided to use one of the ‘toys’ that Rex had provided. He was stubbing out a burning cigarette against the girl’s shoulder as he plunged into her pussy from behind.
Sara trembled. I could guess exactly what she was thinking. She knew how much worse it could get. Every passing second, every groan, cry, whimper, and scream from her sweet sister had to be reminding her just how much more horrible her situation could get. To be ass-raped was a blessing compared to what those two long lines of insatiable, horny, and ruthless men were doing to her poor sister right now.
“P-please fuck m-mee in the ass,” she begged weakly. “Please, I-I need you in my ass,” she added with submissive resignation, trying to mask her despair. I doubted that her half-hearted attempts at ingratiating herself were going to cut it.
“Then relax, bitch. Stop tightening your sphincter and let me IN,” Thicker growled from behind her.
“I’m trying,” she whimpered. Her hands were clasped together so tightly now that the whites of her knuckles shone.
At the foot of the table, Thinner, meanwhile, just kept enjoying the show. His expression was smug and full of gloating. He smirked at her, his gaze sliding downward to take in her hands folded together.
“Pray for that cock about to ream your young asshole, bitch. Yeah, Barry will answer your prayers, all right,” he said darkly. The one named Barry – still ‘Thicker’ in my book – now pushed harder, more relentlessly. He got maybe an inch beyond the tip of his shaft wedged between those smooth, sexy ass cheeks. Even with that slight amount of penetration, petite babe was grimacing and sweat was beading up on her brow.
“Oooohhhhh!!!! OHHHHH god,” the raven-haired girl groaned. “Please, I’m trying the best I can. Please, slow… sloooowwww—AAAAEEEEEEEEYYYY!!!”
The black-haired cutie now trembled and squealed as Thicker forcefully thrust in a good two inches deeper.
“Please…. Oh god, oh god… uuuuuuhhhh!” Petite babe’s protests melted into a series of uneven gasps and plaintive grunts, her body trying to acclimate to the foreign invader striving to impale the tightness of a place where no cock was ever meant to go. I could just imagine those nerve endings in her rectum protesting as her soft, delicate tissue felt itself being scraped by Thicker’s thrusting cock. Even with the oil slathered up and down that shaft, this would be excruciating for the girl.
Just then I saw one of the low-level Frost Demons rushing straight toward Rex. I stood just within earshot.
“We got trouble, Boss. Greeley’s out back, wants to ‘have a chat’ with you.”
Seriously? This was just my luck. If having my entire bar turn into one massive rape-orgy crime scene wasn’t enough, now it looked like I was about to get myself involved even deeper. Rex shrugged into a pair of jeans and his biker vest. I followed Rex out back. There, in the ice-covered parking lot, stood a rugged-looking man with a dark gray beard and twinkling, mischief-sparked eyes. A badge hung from his chest.
Sheriff Greeley. The son of a bitch was as sadistic as he was corrupt, and greedy enough to make Ebenezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol seem like a saint. I froze. Every single cell in my body felt like a fly caught in amber or flesh petrified to stone. Normally the sheriff looked the other way as long as the Frost Demons paid him their monthly ‘gift,’ but maybe even he couldn’t let something this bold and explicit continue to play out in his jurisdiction.
The rape party would probably need to come to an end, and soon. I had a strong suspicion that Greeley planned to make Rex pay a premium for taking such a risk and making extra trouble for him too. But Greeley knew Rex’s bullheadedness and fierce nature, and the biker leader wasn’t done taking revenge on those tourists – not by half. So we had a standoff looming here – a standoff where, joy of joys, my bar just happened to be the unlucky site of whatever shitshow might erupt.
I rubbed my chin ruefully, part of me wishing that I’d just closed the bar early tonight. Irrationally though, a thrill of excitement snuck through me too. What would Rex offer the sheriff to let the gang continue to have its way with the girls and their pretty-boys? How much would Greeley play ball, if the price was right? Because if there was one thing I knew, it was that with Greeley almost anything could be bought. The guy would have sold his own wife and daughters if the pot were sweetened just right.