This a rough read, do not proceed if you do not want to read
about death, abuse and enslavement. This is written down for
those that want to read about these things, not to be criticised
for any moral reasons. If you are happy to admit that you are
indeed a sick fuck, feel free to read on
What would you do if you'd just been kicked out of your
house at age eighteen with $500, a car and a gun?
That's the situation I'm in. Yeah, it sucks. Driving on
the empty freeway at 2:00 AM, thoughts racing through my
head. I only pulled over to dig up my diary and start
writing, I don't even know why I am. I guess it'll calm
me down.
My parents have finally cracked. Shit went down tonight.
Dad yelling at me and mom, throwing stuff and threatening
us. Finally he packed a bag and stormed off in the Ford.
Mom starts on the crack, and I tell her to cut that shit
out. A one hour argument ensues, ending in a brawl that
she started. Finally I snapped, and barricaded myself in
my room. As I threw together a couple of bags of clothes,
I could hear bottles breaking against my door, and sobs
coming from the hall. Oh sure, she's upset now, but for
the seven hundredth time and still no fucking change.
I debated over taking my gun for a long time. It could
encourage me to resort to crime. But eventually I decided
just to go for it. If anything, just for safety.
The last thing I grabbed was my keys. I worked weeks for
this Chevelle, no way I'm leaving it to my cracked up
mother. She'd have it totaled in a week. It's the last
car we've got? She can walk, it'll do her some fucking
good.
I climbed out the window and took the leap down into the
front yard. She heard me, and soon came staggering out
the door, but I was in the car and pulling away by then.
The last I heard from her, and the last I think I will
ever hear from her, was a slurred curse and one last
bottle smash. Good riddance.
I took to the freeway, and headed into downtown LA. I
still have no clue where I'm going after tonight. But I
stole mom's stash before leaving, and I know I'll need
money. I've got to go and sell some drugs. I stole dad's
stash too, or what he left of it. But I don't even know
what some of this shit is. Best to leave it for now.
I know a few guys who'll buy from me. Then I'll sort out
what the fuck I'm doing.
I've been driving for some time now. Need a quick break.
After thinking things over for a while, I decided to take
the interstate. I'm cruising down empty lanes in the
direction of Arizona. No idea really what I'm doing or
where I'll end up.
I was right about the gun though. I've driven past a few
parked trailers on the side of the road. And every time,
I wonder how easy it would be to slash their tires and
rob them.
Of course, there is the danger of the occupants being
armed. But I've been in some tight spots before. I trust
my instincts.
After continuing on the interstate for a few miles after
that break, I came across the 'perfect chance'.
It was the car that stopped me. I saw another trailer in
the distance, and slowed down to look carefully as I
passed it. Upon drawing level, the car came into view.
It was a Chevelle. A different model, but a Chevvy
nonetheless. At this point, I knew I could do something
here. I know the Chevelle fucking well. I know I can jack
that car. Heck, I've had to do it a few times for my own.
I drove a couple of hundred metres past it, and cut off
the engine when my tires hit the dirt. After getting a
few things together, I climbed out and locked up.
The walk back to the trailer was nerve racking. Anxiety
filled me. What if I woke the inhabitants up when I
drove past? And they heard me stop? What then? Would they
be armed and ready, watching me even now as I walked
towards their little campsite?
It was quaint. The fire had burnt low, embers smoldering
at the bottom of the pit. Faded camp furniture sat in a
circle around it. The awning was set up, and an empty
cooler was leant against the wheel. I tried to use this
to judge what I was dealing with here. But it didn't give
away much. This could be a group of lads out for a night
of drinking, or a family on their way to Texas. No way
of knowing at all.
I had to find out though.
Carefully, I crept up to the window of the car and
peered inside. Nothing, it was empty. Breathing a sigh
of relief, I continued to the trailer. The windows were
mostly covered, but through small gaps I could just about
make out the interior.
Inside I could see three people outlined in the beds. In
the double was a man and woman, obviously husband and
wife. And in the single at the other end of the trailer
was a girl, probably their daughter. Other thoughts
began entering my mind at this point. But I pushed them
away. I had to keep to the plan.
Finally I checked for any signs of weapons. There was
nothing visible.
Slowly, I backed away from the window of the trailer and
headed to the driver's door of the car. After kneeling
down and retrieving the necessary tools from my rucksack,
I got to work.
It took a couple of minutes, but eventually I got the
door open quietly. I'd been ready to sprint back to my
car at any point, and it was a relief to relax and take
a seat in the family's Chevelle. The interior was much
less well kept. Evidently they didn't care to maintain
theirs, the idiots. Maybe I'll sort it out.
It was quicker to get the thing going. After a few long
moments, I had it ready. There was no turning back after
that point, though. Once the engine started, they woke
up for sure.
I braced myself. Then fired up the engine. It was a
beautiful sound, but there was no time to admire it. In
seconds, I'd shifted and was pulling away into the dirt.
My plan was simple. It was a moonlit night, and I could
see a small mesa roughly four hundred yards from the road
on the right. Due to the way the interstate is curved
at that point, there's no way to see behind that rock
from the road.
Perfect place to roll a trailer.
It was lucky the ground was mostly flat. I didn't want
any issues too early. Still, it was a bumpy ride. The
car bounced all over the place, and I had difficulty
steering us towards the mesa. But soon the car rounded
it, and I took action.
After spotting a low ledge, and giving the wheel a few
sharp tugs, I spun the car round and sent the trailer
crashing down into the rock strewn ground. There was a
shearing noise as the metal tether that held the two
vehicles together shattered, then a resounding crash
when the collision with the ground occurred. The car
continued its turn, and I steered out of the skid to come
to a standstill facing the overturned trailer.
I cut the engine instantly, and withdrew my gun. Climbing
out of the car, I kept my eyes trained on the falling
dust around the crash. No one emerged from its murky
depths.
Taking a few steps forward, I leant low and peered in
through the smashed front window.
I could see the parents already. I'd gotten lucky. The
crash had sent the father flying across the trailer. He
was lying on the wall, his crushed figure still breathing
but I knew it was only a matter of time. The mother had
suffered similarly, though she appeared to have remained
wrapped in some bedsheets and wasn't broken like her
husband. She was draped on the kitchen cabinets,
unconscious.
The position of the daughter's bed meant that she'd
had the least impact. I caught sight of her, curled up
in the corner of her cubicle, dazed and confused. The
crash had certainly knocked her. She turned her head
and her eyes came to rest on me.
I fixed my gaze on her, and kept the gun pointed in her
direction. "Don't move, girl" I called quietly to her.
I decided to add, a few seconds later, "And no shouting.
Or you'll all get a bullet."
Terror sparked on her face. But she remained silent.
I made my way through the shattered glass, and into the
trailer, approaching her. Her eyes were wide with horror,
as they came to rest on the strewn figures of her
parents.
I had been prepared to kill people inside the trailer if
they survived the crash. But I didn't know what to do
with this girl.
She's hot. I'd say, maybe, a year or two younger than me.
A cute face, long blonde hair, deep blue eyes. It was
hard to tell underneath all the blankets, but her figure
looked alright too.
I didn't want to have to decide then what to do.
So I took out the rope and gaffer tape I'd stored in my
rucksack along with the car jacking tools, and approached
the girl. She saw what was in my hands and began to move
away, the fear on her face mounting and tears appearing
in her eyes. But one look at the gun that I swiftly
returned to her face kept her quiet and still.
Quickly I bound and gagged her. Then I proceeded to
carry her out to the Chevelle and lay her across the
back seat. She kicked and struggled, but I was good with
knots. She wasn't going anywhere.
Returning to the trailer, I saw the dad stirring. I
decided it would be kinder to end his misery quickly.
I took the last of the rope and swiftly fastened it
round his neck.
When that dirty work was done I turned to the wife.
She was similar to her daughter, in many regards. Still
quite young, maybe in her late thirties, and her skin
was untouched by age. She had large, juicy breasts that
I proceeded to feel with my empty hand. Her long slender
legs emerged from the bedsheets, and I wondered what
kind of ass they led to.
Carefully I unwrapped her from the white cotton, and
her beautiful body emerged, dressed only in thin black
underwear.
It was at this point that I knew I had to keep them. Her
and her daughter. What a pair. What a catch.
I was very aware that I hadn't set out tonight to kidnap
two girls. Or any, for that matter. But things change.
And sometimes you've just got to go with it.
I swiftly bound the mother too, then carried her to the
car. Dumping her on top of her crying daughter was fun.
I was tempted to arrange them so the mothers tits would
be in her daughter's face. But there were more important
things to do.
I returned to the trailer one last time, and rummaged
around for a few minutes.
It turned out I was very lucky the father wasn't still
awake after the crash. I found a magnum and a shotgun
in one of the cabinets, along with a considerable stock
of bullets. I found one of the family's bags, and began
putting together some things. Food, clothes, the guns,
and all sorts of other things that I could use went into
the bag quickly.
Lastly, in the nightstand, I found the dad's wallet and
the mom's purse. I took only the cash, but between them
they had $400. Evidently they had been planning a long
trip. I also found the car keys, which would make the
journey back easier.
After emerging from the wreck with my own rucksack and the
new large bag full of scavenged items, I climbed into
the car and tossed the bags on top of the girls. The mom
was still out cold, and the daughter still had tears
pouring down her face. It appeared she had lost the
energy to cry outright, resorting to quiet sobbing.
I ferried them and the bags to my own car, then retrieved
some of the furniture from the family's original camp.
Now it just looks like a lazy group has left it without
cleaning up.
After hooking up the family's Chevelle to my own, I
drove a couple of miles further down the interstate
until I reached where I am now, in a sheltered hollow
a little to the right of the road, far out of sight.
I think I'll take a break here for a while. I've still
got to decide what to do with these girls. They've been
driving me crazy with longing ever since I put them in
the car.
After laying back and having a drink and a few cigs to
calm down, I turned and saw the daughter looking at me
with the same terror etched on her face. I laughed, and
blew a cloud of smoke in her face. She coughed violently
into her gag and turned away, fresh tears glistening in
her eyes.
I faced the wheel again, and began turning the radio
dial. Eventually it tuned in, and I could hear through
the static a local news report coming in.
There was nothing of note.
Although I was certain the overturned trailer and the
body of the father wouldn't be found, at least for some
time, it was nice to know.
I continued tuning the radio, until it hit a channel
playing some music. Leaning back in the seat, I smoked
the cigarette and watched as the sun started rising.
My mind wandered to the girls.
I looked back again, and saw her still looking at me.
"What you looking at?" I asked her. She couldn't reply
with her gag, but the direct address still stung her.
I climbed out of the car and got into the back with the
two girls. The mom's legs were on my lap, and the
daughter's face rested on the seat near my waist. I
rearranged them, so the daughter was now on top and her
face rested on my right leg.
Carefully, I pulled the gaffer tape off her mouth. "Be
careful what you say, girl" I told her. "You don't want
to fuck up now."
She remained quiet, though I sensed her breaths quicken.
"What are your names?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
I reached forward and took the gun from the passenger
seat. After peeling off her mother's gag, I forced the
gun into her unconscious mouth. I repeated, "what are
your names, girl?"
She swallowed. "I.. I'm.. Amy" she stammered. "And she's
m.. my... my mother, Dianne."
"Amy what?" I asked.
"Ross."
I sat back. So, Amy and Dianne Ross. What a pair they
are. The father must have had a constant hard on at home.
I also had a hard on at that moment.
I began unbuckling my belt. Amy saw what I was doing, and
recoiled.
"Ever had a boyfriend before, Amy?" I asked her. Slowly,
she nodded. "Well" I continued, "you ever given a blowjob
to a boyfriend before?"
"No" she said quickly.
"Probably thought you were too good for that, huh?" I
suggested.
She didn't respond.
I laughed again. "Yeah, you girls are all the same. Think
you're purer than the rest of us. Always looking down,
disapproving. Well, news flash, that ain't gonna be how
it is any more. You'll do what the fuck I say."
I could see fresh moisture glistening in her eyes. At the
same time, I wondered if she was becoming moist down
below. That would make her a sick sad little fuck if she
was. Although the sick fuck is probably me for thinking
it.
I continued with my belt, then pulled down my jeans and
briefs. Amy watched in horror as my cock emerged, tall
and thick and topped with specks of precum. I again
pointed the gun at her head.
"Open wide" I ordered jokingly. "Here comes the airplane,
Amy."
Her face at that moment was priceless.
But I'd had enough of her stalling, so I grabbed her by
her hair and dragged her head over to my cock. She gasped
and writhed in the seat, but had nowhere to go. When she
opened her mouth again I took the opportunity and forced
her head down, my cock entering her sweet little mouth.
She gagged and tried to pull away, but I held her fast.
Quickly I started pounding back and forth, fucking her
throat for all it was worth. Tears began streaming from
her eyes, and muffled moaning noises escaped between her
lips and my rapidly pumping shaft. I leant back and let
out a long groan, days of stress being released on this
glorious little minx of a girl. I cared little for her
well being, even for her air. It was only after I felt
her struggles weakening that I realised she hadn't had
a breath for nearly a minute. I released her, and her
head shot up from my throbbing dick, strands of drool
and precum trailing from her lips. She took in several
deep breaths of air, her streaming eyes focused on me.
I gave her only a moment of brief respite, before taking
her by the scruff of the neck and forcing her down once
again. She didn't even have time to take a breath, not
that I intended on letting her have any.
I've had unconsenting girls before. Normally in dark
backstreets in the dead of night with a girl too drunk
or drugged up to fight back. But this level of control?
Girls tied up in the back of my car with no one around
for miles? This allows me to try a few things I've always
wanted to do.
First of these was to have a girl pass out on my cock. A
long time fetish of mine.
I held Amy's head down, and began pumping my cock in and
out of her resisting throat. She was struggling, her
lower half writhing around on top of her mother. But no
movement she made could dislodge my iron grip on the back
of her head.
I turned her slightly, keeping her tightly pressed to my
crotch, so that I could see her eyes. She stared up at
me, and I could see terror and anger in them. The human
jaw can't bite properly with something lodged in the
throat. I'd felt her try a couple of times.
After half a minute of holding her head down on my cock,
her struggles reached their peak. She was thrashing
around, as much as a bound girl can, and probably hurting
her mother below her. I didn't care, however. I was
simply loving the feeling of her throat gagging and
retching around the base of my shaft.
Quickly, her movements faltered. I could feel her become
weaker, and the gagging in her throat become much less
frequent.
Her eyes, still trained on my own, began to droop. What
had been struggles in her limbs became twitches, and
soon all that was left was her open eyes. Slowly, they
rolled up into her head as she drifted to sleep.
I withdrew my raging cock and began jacking off furiously
over her unconscious face. She coughed back to life just
as I crested and sent a wave of cum all over her pretty
features. Strands landed in her eyes and mouth, and she
began twisting around, disoriented and confused.
When I was completely spent I rose up out of the door,
Amy's head falling down onto the back seat. I spat once
on her cum drenched face, then turned and walked around
the car. The rising sun glistened on my sweat drenched
body, and I enjoyed the warmth it provided. After pulling
open the trunk, I found a towel and cleaned myself up. I
then returned to my crying teen, and threw the towel at
her face.
Drained from the physical exertion of pumping Amy's head
up and down, and from the astronomical orgasm I had just
achieved, I went back to sit in the front seat after
grabbing some food and water. I knew I'd have to get some
more at some point soon. Now I had three people to feed.
Think I'll have a little sleep now. I can hear Dianne
stirring, but like I said I trust my knots. They'll be
perfectly safe.
I slept through the morning and afternoon, only waking
when Dianne began screaming that her daughter needed
water. I rubbed my eyes, dazed by the sudden arousal, and
turned to look at my captives.
Dianne was staring at me with tears in her eyes. I looked
over and saw Amy in a bad way, sweat coating her body and
her breath coming in short sharp gasps. Dianne was right.
Slowly I climbed out of the car, and walked over to the
families own one, hooked up behind mine. I reached in to
retrieve the bag of salvaged items, and pulled out a
large bottle of water. My hand brushed against one of
their bottles of gin, and I felt a stirring in my pants
at the thought of what I could do with it. I took hold of
it also, before heading back around the car and kneeling
down next to Amy.
I carefully gave her some water, before rounding the hood
and giving what was left to Dianne. She drank it up
quickly, gasping for air between gulps.
I rose and left them there, returning to the other car's
trunk to grab a couple of their folding chairs. After
setting them up behind it, out of the sun, I headed over
and hoisted Dianne out of the car, half carrying her to
one of the chairs. After sitting her down, I grabbed the
gin and settled next to her.
I drew my knife out of my jeans and held it up to her.
"I don't want to kill you, Dianne. But unless you drink
when I tell you, I may cut you."
It was all I needed to say, she nodded.
I raised the bottle to her lips after unscrewing the
cap, and began pouring it into her waiting mouth. Over
a couple of minutes I gave her a few shots, giving her
small breaks in between. She took it well, I'll give
her that. But after feeding her another several I was
ready for more.
I stood and went to fetch Amy. Dianne watched as I
dragged her daughter from the car and placed her in the
second chair. I gave her the same threat, before starting
to pour the last third of the bottle down the neck of
the daughter. She coughed, the hard liqour burning her
juvenile throat, but I didn't let up until she'd finished
the job.
Tossing the bottle away, I took a step back and looked
at the girls in front of me. Two gorgeous specimens, one
already a woman and one soon to be another. And she would
soon be more drunk than she'd likely ever been. But this
is only the beginning. I have a great many plans for this
innocent little cutie.
I strode over to Dianne, lowering my pants and straddling
the chair.
"You better give the blowjob of your life, slut. Same
rules apply, you suck or you bleed."
She gulped, and hesitated. But a quick slap to the face
got her moving again.
She lurched forward and locked her lips around my swollen
cock. I groaned in bliss as she began pumping her head
back and forth, heeding my warning and giving it all that
she had. Her tongue worked its way around the tip, before
circling underneath as she forced the head of my cock
deep into her throat. She began jacking off my cock with
her gaping esophagus, only stopping to take quick gasps
of air.
When I grew bored of even her best efforts, I took her
head in my hands and gave the mother a little extra help.
Her daughter watched her the whole time, tears pouring
down her cheeks as she watched her mother being sexually
assaulted next to her. But Dianne continued to take my
threats to heart by working her tongue around the tip of
my cock and her fingers on my balls, to encourage my
engorged member to spurt its filthy cum between her lips.
I leased a loud roar as I fired several wads of white
into Dianne's gaping mouth. I kept jacking off, milking
the head of my cock to force yet more semen onto Dianne's
outstretched tongue. When I was spent, she immediately
swallowed before dropping back into her seat and bursting
into tears.
I cleaned up with another towel, before returning to the
seats to find the girls deteriorating fast. Dianne was
holding up, but Amy being unused to such hard drink was
looking ropy. Her eyes were red and unfocused, and she
swayed in her seat as she sat. A cute hiccup escaped her
lips, as her eyes began to droop.
Carefully I untied Dianne from her bonds. Still sobbing,
she rubbed her sore wrists and ankles, before curling
into a ball on the chair.
I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her feet.
"Oh no you don't, bitch, you're not done. Amy here has
been all left out."
Comprehension dawned on Dianne's intoxicated face, and
her eyes opened wide in alarm. I laughed, before setting
her down in between her daughters legs. After unfastening
Amy's restraints, I spread her thighs and signaled for
Dianne to make her move. Weeping, but resigned to her
fate, the mother began leaning in towards her daughter's
exposed pussy. It looked ripe and delicious, but I was
more interested in utterly humiliating the girls than
getting any myself yet.
I took the back of Dianne's head and forced her face
down onto Amy's crotch. She began licking out and tongue
fucking her daughter's virgin cunt. I knew it was one,
for no pussy had ever looked so tight and unspoiled.
"Make her cum while you're at it, Dianne, before I get
bored and decide to suffocate her on my cock again. And
hold that liquor, bitch. Can't have you passing out on
her, otherwise she'll definitely be getting it."
Spurred on by my new threats, Dianne began working
harder, using her tongue to lap up and down Amy's slit.
The young girl was moaning, in too much of a stupor to
really react but conscious enough to respond to the
amazing feeling of her mother eating her out. Slurping
noises rose up from her crotch, and Dianne began working
one finger deep into her daughter's soft folds. I watched
in awe as Amy began rocking back and forth in her chair,
continuing to moan with closed eyes as her mother's
finger found its way in and out of her dripping wet
pussy. Dianne circled Amy's young clit with her tongue,
eliciting startled cries of ecstasy from her.
However, unfortunately for Amy, I had overestimated her
mother's ability to hold her drink. Dianne's efforts
became more and more erratic, before finally she keeled
over and fell in a heap on the desert floor. I sighed in
amusement, before leaning over and forcing my now erect
cock into Amy's waiting mouth. In her drunken state, she
could offer me no resistance as I forced my manhood into
the young girl's throat. I held her in place, only
pumping my cock slightly back and forth into Amy's
esophagus. She was barely awake anyway, and in only
a moment her starved brain cut out and she dropped into
unconsciousness for the second time that day.
I withdrew, turning and spurting cum all over the figure
of her knocked out mother. Dianne looked great, lying
there asleep with long strands of white semen splayed
all over her beautiful tanned body.
After that I turned and headed back to the car to sit
and write this entry. I don't know what I'll do now,
probably tidy the girls up and get them in some sort of
bed for the night. I've spent enough cum to last a
month. No more for me tonight. But tomorrow, oh there
will be plenty of fun things to do.
Nice job man. I know how a lot of people feel about these stories and just give them a thumbs down. To those people, stay in your genre. As long as people don't act on certain fantasies they're fine to read/watch.
Quite a quirky little bitch, aren't you? Don't worry, most arseholes are.
In your previous story, you said, "Try it some time."
Take a long look around you. Everything you do, builds on what the future of this place holds. If you write a story in order to incite, be very, very careful as to what you choose as a subject to push. You are dealing directly with the mind and judging by your writing that you could be an intelligent young man, always know that, doesn't matter how sick you think yourself to be, there's always someone who is more fucked up and that person is maybe just waiting for some positive confirmation on his/her plans before going into action. By all means, write in the context you are in, but don't aspire to be 'less than'.
User497Report
Anonymous readerReport
In your previous story, you said, "Try it some time."
Take a long look around you. Everything you do, builds on what the future of this place holds. If you write a story in order to incite, be very, very careful as to what you choose as a subject to push. You are dealing directly with the mind and judging by your writing that you could be an intelligent young man, always know that, doesn't matter how sick you think yourself to be, there's always someone who is more fucked up and that person is maybe just waiting for some positive confirmation on his/her plans before going into action. By all means, write in the context you are in, but don't aspire to be 'less than'.
Anonymous readerReport
Anonymous readerReport
Anonymous readerReport
Please make another chapter it was great