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Introduction:

This is a brutal tale of unrelenting violence against innocent victims. Remember this is just a fantasy.
Nightmare in October

By Greg

This is a rewrite of an earlier story of mine. It has been rewritten to have a more realistic storyline. It is a brutal tale of unrelenting violence against innocent victims. I was in a weird place in my life when I first wrote it. I was venting frustrations and decided to put it all into a story. I do not condone any of the actions described here. Remember, this is just a fantasy. This story involves the gang-rape of a mother and daughter in the presence of the husband. If you are a sensitive and sympathetic person, then this story is probably not for you.

The clerk at the counter took a second look at Manuel as she handed him his change. He pocketed the money and headed for the exit without noticing how her expression had changed. As he turned away, her face went from friendly and polite to a look of utter shock.

His full-sleeve display of ink wasn’t all that unusual, but the tattoos on his neck were another matter altogether. Manual's previous gang affiliation had given him a truly unique appearance. The clerk’s jaw-dropping reaction was visible even across the room. Chuck was over at the beer cooler, watching as she motioned to her co-worker. As soon as Manual walked out the exit, the two clerks darted to a wall board near the door. Chuck could see a string of FBI notices. He assumed that one probably involved Manuel. Manual’s past had caused trouble before, and this would require careful thinking to avoid creating a bigger problem.

"Damn," Chuck could only mutter.

He knew that Manual had some outstanding warrants. The young clerk was jabbing her finger at one of the sheets. Chuck pretended not to notice and calmly carried his beer purchase over to the counter. Not having seen them come in together, the first girl came back over and quickly rang up his beer.

Chuck looked around, noticing the security cameras blanketing the cashier area. He quickly lowered his head, trying to avoid a direct look.

There was little chance to attempt anything right there. Just then, several new customers came through the doors. Chuck slapped a twenty on the counter and impatiently waited for the change. As he grabbed the beer and turned to leave, the clerk followed him back near the door. Her co-worker was still there and already had her phone to her ear. She seemed to be urgently explaining something.

"Let's roll, now," Chuck ordered as he got into the front seat, "we’ve been made."

The car quickly got back on the Interstate and continued heading east. The four had had no trouble until now, and Chuck wanted to keep it that way. Chuck was the guy in charge. The organization had depended on his coolness under pressure. He was in his early forties and had spent most of his life skirting the law. Other than some minor scrapes, mostly for fights and assaults, he had avoided major trouble. Chuck was a big man with massive arms. Most trouble, he squelched by simple physical intimidation.

Manuel, the driver, was unstoppable behind the wheel of a car. His life revolved around cars and motorcycles. Originally from some nameless town in central Mexico, he had been well known by the border police. He was into smuggling as far back as he could remember, mostly for stolen auto parts. He finally stayed on the northern side of the border now, partly because most of his family had turned him away or disowned him.

Tito and Andy were punks. Chuck didn’t like the extra help, but it wasn’t his decision. They had been sent along due to someone’s paranoia. Both in their mid-twenties, they lacked the experience to handle things. Tito was somewhat edgy, but Andy was a "lit fuse." He thought of himself as a "Rambo-type," with looks. Chuck figured he had some connection with some boss above him and was sent along to learn the ropes. He was all mouth as far as Chuck was concerned. Chuck railed at being someone’s babysitter.

"Drive!" shouted Chuck, "we’ve got to put some distance between that fuel stop and us."

"But once they get word out, they’ll be waiting up ahead," said Andy, starting to panic.

"No shit," snapped Chuck.

"Your damn tattoos, Manuel," grumbled Chuck.

Chuck was scanning his phone and told Manuel, "There aren’t any towns at the next exit; get off there." "We need a secluded place to lay low for a while."

The car veered into the exit lane and took a hard right at the top of the overpass.

"Head towards them," said Chuck, pointing towards a couple farm houses off in the distance.

The two-lane road had just started to curve out of direct sight of the interstate when Chuck ordered,

"Turn in here,"

Manuel braked hard and swung onto the gravel driveway, just missing the rural mailbox. Jim Stevens had just finished his morning chores in the barn and was headed towards the house for lunch. The sound of tires sliding on the gravel caused him to turn towards the main road.

"Down in back," hissed Chuck.

Tito and Andy in the back seat ducked forward and out of view.

"Slowly," Chuck snapped at Manuel, "let’s check this out."

The farm had been in the Stevens family for four generations. Jim’s family purchased the eight hundred acres shortly after the Civil War. It had prospered due to a strong work ethic in Jim’s family.

The gravel driveway was a good hundred yards long, and being two miles from the interstate made for few visitors, aside from an occasional delivery truck. That is why Jim cast a wary eye towards the car as it slowly made its way towards him.

"Good barn for ditching the car," said Manuel, trying not to move his lips too much.

"Right, but watch for signs of any hired help," warned Chuck.

Jim studied the car, seeing only two occupants in the front seat. He noticed the slant of the vehicle, as if it were loaded too heavily in the trunk. It could be salesmen, he thought.

"Darn city folk," Jim mused, "shouldn’t overload a vehicle like that."

Jim slapped his work gloves against his leg to shed the dust. His right hand went up instinctively.

"Hey, you all lost or something?" he asked as the car stopped beside him.

"Naw," Manuel said, reaching for a gun under his seat.

Just as Jim’s hands came to rest on the doorframe, he caught a movement in the rear seat. Startled, he started to back away. That’s when he saw the barrel of Manuel’s gun pointed at his chest.

"Don’t you move," snarled Manuel.

The rear door opened, and Andy jumped out and was beside the stunned farmer in a second. A knife now pressed to his side, Jim froze. The front passenger side door opened, and Chuck calmly walked around the front of the vehicle. Chuck was cool as he approached Jim. He even extended his hand in a mock attempt to shake hands, just in case someone was watching.

"Anyone up at the house?" Chuck inquired.

"Ah, er, just me and the wife," stammered Jim.

"Good, let’s take a slow walk up there," Chuck ordered.

Chuck opened his jacket slightly to reveal his 9 mm. Chuck always carried it when he was on the road. Transporting heroin from Colorado into Chicago was not one of his favorite runs. KC, St. Louis, and Joliet weren’t good places to drive through. He could not risk the possibility of a carjacking or even a simple strong-arm theft. His bosses might suspect him of staging it and keeping the dope for himself. If this happened, he was as good as dead.

Jim was looking towards the house, hoping for some sign that Becky had also seen the car pull in. His hopes were dashed as he realized that she would have probably been in the kitchen making lunch. With Andy’s knife at his left and Chuck calmly walking to his right, the trio approached the front porch. The steps were wide enough for all three to walk up side-by-side.

Becky must have heard the multiple footsteps or had seen the car as she was approaching the inside door. Jim reached for the screen door quickly, trying to prevent her from coming out. Andy pressed the knife to his side as a firm reminder.

"Jim, Who?” "What are?" was all Becky managed to get out before Chuck upholstered his gun.

"Out!" he ordered, waving the gun in her direction.

Becky nervously complied and stood, holding onto Jim’s arm.

"Who are they?" "What do they want?" she almost demanded of Jim.

"Check it out, Andy," Chuck ordered.

Andy quickly pushed his way past Becky and disappeared inside the house.

"Nice place you got here folks, real secluded huh," Chuck smirked.

"Why are they here?" Becky continued to grill Jim.

"Clear," came the reply moments later.

"IN," ordered Chuck, again motioning with the barrel of the gun.

Inside the old farmhouse, things looked the way one would suppose. A large front room opened through an archway into a long dining area. The kitchen was off to the side, and the bedrooms were all upstairs. The dining room on special occasions could hold all of Jim and Becky’s relatives. Looking back as the front door closed, Jim noticed the car was gone, and the barn door being drawn closed by the other two men.

"Over there," barked Chuck.

Jim and Becky stumbled to the large couch in the center of the room and sat down.

"Please, take anything you want," pleaded Becky.

"We are not rich people." "Please, why are you doing this?"

Becky was just babbling on now, maybe just trying to calm herself. Shortly, Tito and Manuel burst through the door and began surveying the room. Chuck was still standing in front of the terrified couple, waving his gun.

He yelled at Tito and Manuel, "Find some rope."

Becky begged, "Please, no, why?" "We won’t do anything."

"Quiet!" shouted Chuck. "All we need is a place to lay low for a while." "We'll leave you then, if you cause us no problems."

Becky calmed down some. She grabbed for Jim’s hand and clung to it with a trembling grip. Jim had been watching Andy. He didn’t like the way he had been staring at Becky. After a few minutes, the rear kitchen door slammed. Tito and Manuel walked in carrying several lengths of rope cut from the clotheslines out back.

"Tie him over there," said Chuck, pointing the gun towards one of the dining room chairs.

The dining room chairs were made of solid antique oak. The sturdy chairs had been in the family for a long time. Jim’s great-grandfather was rumored to have made them from parts of the wagon that had carried the family west to Missouri. Manuel grabbed Jim by the shoulder, pulling him in the direction of one of the chairs.

"NO," wailed Becky, as her hands were jerked away from her husband’s arm.

Jim started to resist, but Chuck raised the gun to point-blank range at Becky’s head. Jim’s resistance quelled, he slumped down in the first chair. Manuel quickly began lashing him to it. His hands were drawn around his back and bound tightly. Manuel grabbed each leg and lashed each ankle to a leg of the chair. Jim felt helpless as this was being done, but what could he do? Chuck was still standing over Becky on the couch. One wrong move, and she would be shot instantly.

As Manuel was finishing the knots, Jim noticed his dark leathery skin and rough hands. Jim guessed that he had probably worked around farms before. His skillful rope handling suggested maybe even some livestock experience. The truth be told, Manuel learned early on how to lash down a load of stolen parts quickly. Manual shoved Jim so hard up against the dining room table that Jim let out a groan as the table struck him across the stomach. Jim’s back was to the living room now, and he had to twist to see over one shoulder to keep Becky in view.

"Now her," ordered Chuck.

"Wait," interrupted Andy.

Jim heard Andy race into the kitchen and head out the back door. The screen door slammed behind him. Moments later, he returned, carrying a fence post across one shoulder. Jim had just purchased some at the farm supply just yesterday. Becky had been on to him about fencing in the vegetable garden before next spring. This year, the rabbits had eaten everything. He'd only left a dozen stacked by the back porch this morning. Watching Andy carry one of them into the house struck him as odd. Becky would have surely chewed Jim out for such a thing.

Jim had been expecting Becky to be brought over to one of the other chairs, but this was not happening. Straining his neck to see what was going on, Jim suddenly heard Becky scream, and then a fight was on. She began struggling with two of the men as they tried to force her to the floor. Andy had her arm and was twisting it in an effort to force her downward. Manuel was trying to loop a rope around her free arm. The fence post was lying flat on the area rug, and they seemed to be trying to tie her down to it somehow. She struggled for all she was worth. It took three of the men to hold her down.

"Jim, help!" she screamed. "No, God no," she wailed.

Becky fought and kicked wildly at first. Finally, however, with a man kneeling on each arm, she was eventually subdued. She still kicked about as best she could, pleading and begging for Jim’s help. Jim cursed angrily at the thugs. He leaned and pulled hard against the ropes until his hands went numb. He felt stupid for not having made a move earlier when there were just two of them in the house.

Jim wondered what the point of it all was. He and Becky were complying with everything the men were asking of them so far. Okay, so they might feel more in control with their prisoners secured. Maybe they were worried about Jim having a gun hidden somewhere in the house. He could reckon on the need to have things their way, but Jim was a man of his word. If he agreed not to resist, he stood by that agreement. He was completely outnumbered anyway. Jim figured it was best for now to just trust Chuck, let them have their way, and then, as promised, they would move on.

Jim was enraged now that they had laid hands on his wife without any need to do so. He thought that most men were reasonable and that even those outside the law would still act in their own best interests.

Finally, things calmed down some, mostly because Becky had spent herself fighting them and was now trying to catch her breath. Jim began rocking the chair in an effort to get his wife in full view. What he could glimpse caused his blood to boil.

Becky had been laid out on her back with the thick post under her shoulders. Her outstretched arms were tied at each end. Manuel was now tying a second rope around her upper arms, holding the post tightly against the back of her neck. Becky was spread out in such a way that she was helpless to get up. Her lower body and legs were free, but the length of the post and the way she was tied to it kept her from getting up or rolling over. She was like a turtle that had flipped over on its back.

This seemed to Jim to be an needless infliction of pain. Having his wife degraded and put in a position to be uncomfortable was beyond reasonable. It was just being plain mean. Tied like that, caused her shoulders to be rolled back and her head to tilt at an uncomfortable angle. Her chest now heaved with each labored breath.

As the thugs stood back, admiring their conquest, a sudden realization struck Jim. His feelings of anger shifted like a strong wind does just before a storm. The look on the men’s faces wasn’t just about having control of the situation. A sickening feeling of dread immediately washed over Jim.

Jim could plainly see how the positioning of the post behind her shoulder caused Becky’s chest to be thrust upward. Her cotton shirt, although loosely fitted, flattened out, revealing the actual size of her breasts beneath.

Becky’s life as a farmer’s wife often demanded physical work. Becky had already seen her 40th birthday but was still in great shape. Jim often jokingly told her that she came from "good stock," as if she were some farm animal. Her coal black hair hadn’t shown any gray yet. Jim liked her hair longer, but she always got it cut short over the hot summer months. She would let it grow long again over the winter. Being late October, it was almost touching her shoulders.

Jim had always considered Becky’s body to be for his personal enjoyment. She seldom flaunted her figure in public. Becky typically dressed modestly. Loose fitting cotton tops and comfortable Levis were her usual. Her full bosom was kept well hidden beneath the loose fabric of a plaid shirt.

Jim was fully aware that other men couldn’t help but give his wife a long look if they were behind her. He often thought to himself that her body would turn any man's head. A man would have to be blind not to notice her curves, but Becky had never tried to accentuate her charms herself, except on rare formal occasions. Only then, would anyone get a glimpse of the seductive curves of her hips or the fullness of her figure.

This sudden realization that control of the situation was not all the men were interested in set off a panic in Jim. He knew in his gut that they were now in serious trouble. Becky’s position on the floor had her neck arching back uncomfortably and her breasts on prominent display.

”Check out that body," Andy quipped.

He was the first to say what everyone else was thinking.

Jim had been right to worry about him. He was definitely the youngest of the four men and likely a hothead. Jim had hoped Chuck was more stable. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was now going. He was trying to maintain some control over himself. This seemed like an awful nightmare. Jim wished it were. Maybe then he’d just wake up.

Andy knelt beside Becky on the floor. He was rubbing his hands against his thighs in frustration.

"Boss, these tits are really talking to me," he said.

Andy brought both hands up and hovered over Becky’s now rapidly moving chest.

"NO!" she screamed defiantly.

Andy mashed his hands forcefully into the cotton fabric. He was shocked to discover the fullness of the flesh beneath. He squeezed and kneaded, grabbing for the biggest handful he could capture. Cupping the mounds, he pushed them together and upward.

"God damn," he exclaimed, "will you look at the size of these things?"

Twisting, Becky tried to throw his hands off. This motion only caused her shirt to ride up, exposing her waist. Jim clenched his fists, jerking vainly against the unyielding ropes.

"Man, will you look at that?" "She really wants you," joked Tito.

"Jim, PLEASE HELP ME!" she cried. "Stop! No, please!"

"What ya say boss?" asked Andy, his voice cracking with lust.

"We do have a lot of time to kill," Chuck mumbled impassively."

"NO!" stammered Jim. "You promised, you bastards!"

"Shut him up!" ordered Chuck.

Manuel jumped up and came back over to the table where Jim was hog-tied. He grabbed one of the cloth napkins off the table in front of Jim and tried to forcefully stuff it into his mouth. Jim shook his head wildly in an attempt to avoid the gag. Frustrated, Manuel slammed a fist into Jim’s right cheek. Jim was momentarily stunned. He could taste blood. Manuel was able to jam the rag into his mouth. Taking a short length of rope, Manuel swiftly tied a loop around Jim's head and across his mouth, and then he jerked it painfully tight. This held the gag in place.

Manuel straightened out the chair, slamming Jim’s chest against the heavy dining table again. Jim was still seeing stars, and his vision was blurred from the sucker punch.

Ripping sounds filled the room as Becky’s cotton shirt was being torn from her body. Her screams echoed throughout the house. Manuel raced back to the table for another napkin. After a short struggle, Becky was likewise silenced, and for now Jim could only hear muffled cries from her direction.

"Look at those," Andy said hoarsely.

"Damn, what a body," someone else agreed.

"Shit, me first," Andy declared.

There were rustling sounds of another struggle as Jim slowly recovered his senses. He now began slowly thrashing and rocking his chair back and forth in a desperate attempt to draw attention and somehow distract Becky’s attackers.

"Hey look, hubby wants to watch," laughed Chuck.

Jim heard footsteps coming in his direction. He braced for another blow, but suddenly the chair lurched around. He was being pulled backwards across the hardwood floor from behind. The chair screeched along and skidded to a stop in the archway to the living room. The chair then spun around, revealing Jim the most horrific sight of his life. Jim had to blink several times to clear his vision enough to even accept it.

Becky lay naked on the floor on her back, arms stretched out in a spread-eagle position. This stung Jim’s brain like a high-voltage electric shock.

Her shredded blouse and wadded-up jeans lay in pieces along-side of her. Her ripped bra and torn panties were nearby. Tears were streaming down her face. Her eyes were wild with terror. Her mouth, though gagged, was still moving, grunting and desperately pleading for Jim’s help. Her fingers were flexing wildly, clawing vainly at the knots at her wrists.

Her dark nipples had hardened in the cool room air, and her chest was rapidly heaving, pumping air into her lungs. She was only able to twist her head slightly and give Jim a "do something" look.

To see her splayed out like so much livestock for sale and then have the leering stares form complete strangers was unimaginable to Jim. Her labored breathing was causing her breasts to rise in an almost hypnotic sexual rhythm.

Andy was standing facing Jim, opposite Becky. His shirt was open, and he had his jeans down to his knees. Andy had begun jacking his cock and looked in Jim's direction before kneeling down between her legs. Becky had drawn her legs up and clenched them tightly together. She was still squirming and trying to kick him away.

Andy’s cock, had stiffened and was jutting straight out. It bounced around as he fought to get a position and a hold on her. Andy was not to be denied. He caught a leg, then forced a hand between her other, prying them apart. He was now able to lift both thighs off the floor and bring himself right up against her.

Andy held her legs firmly and centered himself. It would be mere seconds before he would have his way. Becky was in total panic at this point. Andy hoisted her butt off the floor and began trying to stab his raging hard-on into a spot that had always been reserved for Jim alone. He struggled to hold her still. Her hip movements now only served to drag her cunt against his straining prick.

"Make this good for me, baby," he growled, his voice cracking with devilish lust.

Becky, in one last-ditch effort, tried to kick herself backward across the rug towards Jim. Tito was sitting on the recliner laughing, reached out, and put his foot against the post, preventing her from sliding away.

"Thanks, partner," laughed Andy, looking up at him.

Centering Becky, Andy raised her hips to his and started driving his cock at her most sensitive spot. Becky countered this by tightening up her stomach muscles in a futile attempt to resist. Her head was whipping from side to side but Andy kept adjusting his hips and finally found the right angle. With his cock now pressed squarely against her cunt, it began to yield. Once started, her struggling now only served to work his cock in deeper. Becky’s face contorted in pain as it skewered its way in without any lubrication whatsoever. A painful moan erupted from her throat as his balls came to rest against her. She was fully impaled at this point.

Andy instantly began a violent rapid thrusting. He showed no regard for his poor victim as she continued to groan at each dry thrust. Jim, who was only feet away now, was beside himself. With her arms pinned straight out, raising her hips had caused her flat stomach to stretch tight. Jim thought he could actually see the outline of the man’s prick thrusting inside his wife’s belly. It reminded him of a mole tunneling through soft sod. Becky’s head jerked violently with each lunge. She could only look back up at her husband, her eyes pleading for some rescue from this horror.

Jim was desperate and could think of nothing else but to throw his entire body forward, hoping that somehow the chair would break apart on impact. He rocked and then lifted with all the strength he could muster. He fell, striking the floor. Having no way to protect his face, he slammed face-first on the hardwood. The impact knocked him unconscious.

When he came to, his head was throbbing. As his senses returned and he became aware of his situation, he realized that the pounding in his head was not from the fall. In fact, it was the wooden post beneath his wife’s shoulders clunking against the solid wood floor. It was sending vibrations throughout the room. Jim had no idea how long he had been unconscious or how long Andy had been pummeling Becky’s cunt. He was violently slamming his hips against her. Andy looked over at Jim several times and was gleefully aware that he was now awake and witnessing the rape. He even withdrew his prick for Jim to see. As it popped from Becky’s cunt it stood perfectly straight up. It had a glossy shine from Becky’s own juices. Andy mocked Jim with taunts and exaggerated groans as he slowly drove it back into her.

Having her helpless husband lie there and be forced to watch seemed to add to Andy’s enjoyment. He slammed his hips against her and held her helpless. With Becky skewered, his hands were free. He grabbed and squeezed at the poor woman’s breasts until they bulged beet-red. Laughing, he would jiggle them for Jim to appreciate.

Several times, Andy even leaned over her chest and bit down on one of her nipples, stretching it taut. He’d look up and, holding the sensitive kernel of flesh, then let it fly back with a snap. Every time he did this, it caused Becky’s body to jolt involuntarily. A cock-gripping spasm rippled through her body, causing Andy to groan in exaggerated pleasure.

Andy eventually settled into a deliberate pace. He seemed to forget about torturing the poor woman for now and was working towards his climax. He'd strengthened his grip on her waist. Becky’s weak struggle to force him out was now completely futile. Andy’s head was down now, and he became quiet and deliberate in his thrusts. Suddenly, his head snapped rigid, his neck muscles tightened, and he let out a low moan. Andy's face grimaced as his orgasm began. His knuckles whitened as his grip on her intensified.

Shaking her waist violently, his balls exploded their load into her. Wave after wave of his orgasm surged through his body. Andy was like some machine in overload. His hips slammed repeatedly against her, so hard that he rocked her pelvis upward with each lunge. The post under her shoulders thudded against the hard floor as her legs jerked about. The other men, who had been cheering Andy on, suddenly grew quiet. They were stunned at the intensity of Andy’s orgasm.

Finally, he slowed down. His grip loosened, and at last his cock slid out. Andy jerked his hips back and flipped his limp cock back on top of Becky’s belly. Lying there, it was still oozing cum. Andy wanted Jim to see the cock that had just violated his wife. A thin trail of cum began to form, mixing into Becky’s neatly trimmed pubic patch.

Tito had been seated on the recliner, watching Becky’s rape. He now stood to announce his turn. With hardly a pause, he knelt down, pulled his cock out, and took his place at her. Tito was practically slobbering as he batted his cock against her. Becky still resisted, but the lubrication from Andy’s load in her, allowed for an easy first thrust.

Manuel had been rummaging through the house upstairs. He walked in the room carrying several things taken from the bedrooms. Across one shoulder was a camera case. He had taken Becky’s jewelry box and even found an old pistol Jim kept in his nightstand.

"Hey amigos, they got a kid," he joked as he held up a portrait.

"Huh," Jim head snapped to attention. He began searching for the clock. He had completely forgotten about Cheryl at school. His pulse quickened as he realized she would be home soon. Chuck noticed Jim’s sudden behavior and picked up on the implications. He moved toward the front window. Looking toward the road, he yelled at Tito.

"Stop fucking that momma bitch for a minute, and get that rag out of her mouth."

"Aw boss," Tito wined.

"Now!" ordered Chuck.

Tito paused his thrusting momentarily but kept his cock buried inside her. As soon as her mouth was clear, Becky started to scream. This was met with a sharp slap across her face.

"When does the kid get home?" snapped Chuck.

Becky’s face was still red from Tito's first slap when a second one hit her.

Jim shook his head in a silent "NO," but Becky was facing away. Tito hit her a third time, sending a shockwave through her entire body.

"TWO-THIRTY," she finally blurted, "but she won’t be home." "She has a late practice."

Jim was confused. Maybe he hadn’t heard right or had forgotten something. He didn’t remember anything about Cheryl staying late today. He prayed that he was wrong.

"Tito, check this out," said Manuel.

He came up along-side Tito who was still holding Becky pinned to the floor. Manuel held out the portrait and dropped it right down on Becky’s stomach. Tito had resumed his attack on Becky but stopped in mid-stroke when he saw the picture.

"Whoa," cried Tito, as he gave an exaggerated deep thrust.

It was Becky’s daughter, Cheryl. She had just turned 18 over the summer and was now in her senior year at the local high school. She was dressed in a cheerleader outfit. Her legs were spread in a cheer pose, revealing a tight, young, body. The cotton sweater she wore obscured her breasts, but there was no doubt that she took after her mom. Tito pressed the cold frame down against Becky’s stomach and resumed his thrusting, all the while staring at the picture and making vulgar remarks about the girl’s body.

"Please not my baby," Becky prayed to herself. She thought that if he finished quickly, he might leave her daughter alone. Leaning forward, Tito pressed the frame down onto Becky’s lower abdomen. He seemed to be trying to feel the movement of his own cock inside of her, or maybe just trying to add more friction against it.

"Aggh!" cried Tito shortly. "Yes, yes, argh."

His jaws tightened as he began coming in Becky. He was groaning and pumping like mad but, for some reason, pulled his dick out. His prick was bright pink, and it was still spurting out jets of cum. Sticky strands of it landed on Becky’s stomach and formed thin lines back to his cock. Tito squeezed hard at the base of his cock with his fist, trapping the blood inside. His cock was still rock-hard and he batted it against her dripping pussy slinging cum all over. Droplets of cum even splattered up onto the glass smearing her daughter’s picture.

Chuck had pulled a dining room chair over near the front windows. Maybe he was being overly paranoid, but his cautious instincts had kept him out of many tough spots before. He was keeping an eye out toward the main road, just in case a police vehicle might drive by.

Tito continued to amuse himself by torturing poor Becky. Between squeezing and slapping at her tits, he was trying to get her to swallow strands of cum he had scraped off of her.

Chuck had been at the window for maybe twenty minutes when he suddenly stood up. He announced that a school bus was slowing down. The bus’s flashing lights came on, and the bus began to slow to a stop.

Becky suddenly began screaming loudly and seemed to regain her strength. She began a desperate attempt to get up off the floor. Tito had to jump on top of her to jam the gag back into her mouth.

The bus stopped for only seconds while a young girl crossed in front, waved as the bus continued on its way. The girl checked the mailbox, and finding nothing, began her long walk towards the house.

Jim seemed to gain a renewed surge of strength as well. He began banging his chair in an insane effort to free himself.

"Get him!" ordered Chuck.

Andy grabbed a metal vase off a nearby side table and, walking over to Jim, viciously slammed it against his skull, savagely knocking him completely senseless.

"Shit, only one pussy and four of us," complained Andy as they all watched the girl amble up the driveway. Cheryl was a looker all right. Her ponytail bobbed and tossed as she strode carelessly. She had a trim athletic build and a girlish skip to her gait.



Soon her footsteps sounded across the front porch. Chuck and Manuel had positioned themselves along either side of the front door. As the door burst open, the girl stopped dead in her tracks. Cheryl stood there confused, staring at her mother, still spread out on the floor. The post tied against her shoulders made her look almost comical. A pool of cum had leaked out of her and left a dark circle on the rug.

Becky was desperately trying to signal her daughter by twisting her hips and kicking wildly. Cheryl’s hand came up to her mouth as she gasped. At first, she thought she had interrupted some sick "sex game" her parents were playing. Then, suddenly, Chuck’s huge hand dropped across her shoulder. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted the girl right off the floor. Chuck carried a screaming Cheryl over to the couch. Chuck practically threw the hysterical girl on the center cushion, and the others circled around her like vultures.

"We’re just having a little party," joked Chuck. "Your mom and dad were just showing us a good time."

Cheryl was in total shock. She held her arm up, shielding her face.

"Oh God, Oh My God, No," she kept chanting.

Jim was still lying on the floor, just moaning. Cheryl’s screaming had somehow brought him back to the horrible reality that had befallen his family. He was completely powerless to even focus on which direction the sounds were coming from. He was weakly tugging against the ropes again. A pool of blood had collected on the floor, oozing from a nasty gash on the side of his head.

Chuck stood directly in front of Cheryl. He reached down and began to stroke her hair. Cheryl began to wail even louder.

"Manuel, you were right, she is a hottie," joked Chuck.

He ran his hand through the girl’s long, dark hair, and then pulled her head against his stomach.

"I’m glad I didn’t waste myself on your mom," he laughed.

Chuck pulled Cheryl against his leg by holding a clump of her hair with one hand. He began unfastening his belt and then loosened the front of his trousers. He dropped his pants to his knees. He pushed his briefs downward, grabbed his cock, and began stroking it right against the hysterical girl’s face. Cheryl tried to turn away, but Chuck’s hold on her hair forced her head back. Her left arm was still raised up across her mouth. She was almost chewing on the back of her hand as tears streamed down her face.

"Hey Andy," yelled Chuck, "get that camera working." "We're going to make some home movies."

"Right on," Andy responded.

The camera was a Christmas gift Jim had purchased to memorialize family trips and events. It still held some video from the family’s summer trip to Virginia. Andy punched around to find the record mode.

"We are going to make us a little action film," Chuck joked. "I’m going to call it Farm Family Fuckers,"

Looking down at Cheryl, Chuck snapped. "Quit your balling, Missy, and get your clothes off."

Cheryl was now lost in some state of denial that this was even happening; she seemed completely oblivious to Chuck's order. After a couple of seconds of waiting, Chuck reached down, twisted the clump of her hair, and pulled it back. Cheryl began to scream again. Tito walked over to Becky, still panting on the floor, and placed a foot right in the center of her chest. Pressing down, Becky immediately began flailing about, trying to get air. The post across her back was pushing out all the air in her lungs. Chuck forced Cheryl’s head around. He wanted her to see what was happening to her mother.

"Stop!" screamed Cheryl pleading. "Stop, please don’t."

Cheryl finally raised her hand to touch the top button of her blouse. All four men stopped and waited without a word as Cheryl's fingers weakly fumbled at the top button. Her hand began trembling, but her fingers seemed to just scratch at the button. She seemed incapable of unfastening it. Her hand just drifted downward, following the row of buttons. She was beyond instruction at this point. She didn’t seem to have any strength or ability to complete the effort. Her hand just slid to the last button at her waist and didn’t move again.

Chuck had grown impatient. He grabbed at the front of Cheryl’s blouse and started jerking at the material of her shirt. Buttons flew in all directions. The ripping fabric was torn in sections from her shoulders. Chuck and the other men's gazes never left her. Her top in shreds, Cheryl was fighting for what was left of her bra. She held onto the scraps covering her breasts. Chuck jerked and pulled the young girl upward, and they were now fighting over the snap that held her jeans.

Cheryl fought as hard as she could to cover the snap on her jeans, but she was no match for Chuck's powerful grip. She was still trying to hold the pieces of her ripped bra to her chest. Chuck got a thumb inside her waistband and began pulling at her jeans. When she dropped both hands to fight him for it, the scraps covering her breasts fell away. There was an almost audible gasp from the men in the room. Her young breasts seemed to burst from their restraint and spill into full view. The wrestling match for her jeans had her breasts rubbing and pressing against Chuck as she fought him. Chuck was beyond reason at this point. Her naked flesh was like some feast he didn’t have the patience to wait for.

He jerked at her jeans, blowing out the snap instantly. Then he started yanking at them, pulling them almost to her knees. Cheryl’s hands now grabbed for the last scrap of material covering her.

She was wearing a deep purple pair of lace panties. The sheerness of the fabric hardly left anything to the imagination. But the intensity of the garment’s color against her pure white skin seemed to focus all of Chuck’s lust. Cheryl’s hands were vainly trying to defend her last shield of clothing. Both of her hands now stayed at her crotch, trying to hold onto it. Her upper arms now cradled her reddened breasts, squeezing them together and almost framing them, to the delight of the other sick thugs watching.

Chuck covered her hand and forced her own grip to pull at the panties. Chuck and the others were like a pack of hungry wild dogs at this point. With his powerful grip, he pulled her hand away, tearing the fabric and bringing the flimsy material with it. Chuck pried the scraps from Cheryl’s hand and, like a crazed animal, stuffed the torn panty into his own mouth. With an audible growl, he sank his teeth into the fabric, releasing the aroma of the young girl’s sex. This fueled his intensity, driving him to a deranged level of lust.

Chuck’s cock had been exposed during the entire struggle to strip Cheryl. The "rush" Chuck had experienced served only to intensify his rage and engorge his cock. The struggle with the hapless girl had been something that Chuck had enjoyed. He was a predator, and the fight became part of the conquest. Now he wanted to claim his prize.

Cheryl was completely naked and desperately attempting to cover herself with at least one hand, all the while pushing away the groping hands of the other men with her other one. The men batted her hands down. It wasn’t long before each of her hands became restrained by a couple of the men, all of them vying for a choice feel.

Cheryl’s body was exquisite. Her tight skin exuded youth and the pureness of being untouched by anyone. Chuck’s pants were tangled at his ankles. His shoes were hobbling his balance, and he finally had to hand Cheryl off long enough to sit on the edge of the couch and remove them. Now unencumbered he rose and grabbed her back by the arm and possessively growled.

"MINE,"



He pulled Cheryl from the groping hands of his buddies like she was a fresh kill of raw meat. He held her to himself. No one was going to challenge him. Chuck was the alpha male here. He took what he wanted and always first.

Manuel, who had been around Chuck the longest, knew you didn’t take anything from him. The other’s got in one last grope or two and then backed off. Chuck had an intense snarl in his voice. His cock now swung around completely free of all restraint. Cheryl glanced down at it, realizing exactly what he intended to do with it.

Manuel was horny as well, but he would have to settle for what else was left. Becky was a sobbing mess, still lying on the floor. She had already been fucked twice, but there was no chance that Chuck would share his prize. Manuel stepped over to Becky, and looking down, he began unfastening his belt.

Manuel lowered his pants and ignored the sloppy mess surrounding her cunt. He knelt down and began nursing on one of Becky’s bruised tits. Becky was breathing hard through her nose. She was almost accepting of this abuse if it meant one more of them would leave her daughter alone.

Chuck was now toying with Cheryl on the couch. He had a firm grip on her one arm and was biting and slobbering at any part of her he could get to. Andy had planned to film some fucking, but Chuck was just teasing Cheryl for the time being. He seemed to relish in her terrorized screams for help. Manuel was not going to waste any such foreplay time with Becky, so Andy figured to video Manuel’s initial penetration of her.

Manuel’s cock wasn’t extremely long, but it was as thick as a man’s wrist. Andy was almost giddy as he proceeded to coach Manuel on how to take Becky. With only a slight amount of pressure, her pussy lips resisted before opening. Manuel’s penetration was only possible because of the two previous attacks. He buried his cock fully on the first thrust and groaned. The warm semen still inside Becky lubricated the head of his cock. He, like Chuck, also enjoyed the terror and suffering of his victims. Manuel even removed Becky’s gag so he could clearly hear her grunts as he continued on with her. Manuel held her thighs apart and lined his cock straight-on. He continued an all-out assault, driving his cock into the sloppy mess of her cunt. With each thrust, the fluids, mixed with sweat, made a sloppy suction noise.

Jim was on the floor only a couple feet from Becky, watching as she took on her third cock of the day. His head was raised as much as he could, but his eyes were a blur. Jim stared transfixed at the sight of Manuel’s thick cock pumping in and out of his wife’s pussy. Her saturated cunt was so full that it was actually forcing out some of the semen left from the first two men. The excess cum was forming a bubbly ring around the base of Manuel’s prick as he pumped at her.

Jim's mental state was now so confused that his brain was now blurring reality. His tortured mind had slipped back to a time when he was just a lad. He remembered watching his grandmother on the front porch. She was making butter from milk fat.

The worn seal on the handle of the old butter churn allowed a frothy ring of partially thickened cream to form at the base of the shaft. Jim remembered drawing his finger around the shaft and tasting fresh butter as Grandmother pumped at the handle. Becky’s oozing pussy reminded him of that memory in a distorted sort of way. The sloppy noise of the assault tore at Jim's heart.

Cheryl’s screams continued to echo around the room. Chuck got her by the hair and tossed her to the floor. The big man was standing over her. He was squeezing at the base of his cock. It was as if he was trying to force still more blood into it. Cheryl had turned around and was attempting to crawl away.

"Daddy, Daddy, please stop him!" she screamed.

Chuck knelt on the floor behind her and caught her by the leg, pulling her backwards. His cock found a soft spot on the top of her rosy ass cheeks. A devilish grin swept across his face. He had not taken anyone anally in some time, mostly because no woman could really handle his size.

"Damn, she’s looks tight," he laughed.

Andy turned and realized that he was missing valuable footage.

"Hold on!" he yelled to Chuck.

Spinning the camera around, Andy left Manuel in mid rape and focused back on Cheryl. She was down on all fours. Chuck was behind her, spreading the cheeks of her ass apart with his thumbs. He had begun probing her tiny asshole with his thick fingers. Crudely, he was trying to get several fingers into her, trying to loosen her up. Finally, after spitting at her butt, Chuck just leaned forward and mashed the tip of his prick against her anus. Cheryl was bawling like a new-born lamb and fighting to pull away.

"Ahhhhhhh," she screamed, "Daddy, please make him stop."

Chuck held onto her by the hips, following her across the rug. Andy shadowed them with the camera "zoomed in" to get the details. Somewhere during her crawl, her ass had yielded. Chuck had managed to partially drive his cock in. Each violent thrust from him now just lifted the poor girl’s knees completely off the floor. Cheryl’s legs would pedal uselessly, trying to wiggle off the invading cock. Her firm, young breasts shook each time she landed. Chuck would then hunch over her back, driving her down again. With his one hand free, he grabbed and pulled at her titties. Slobber dripped from his mouth, leaving a wet shine in the middle of Cheryl’s shoulder blades.

"NO, NO, Please take it out, PLEASE Stop. It hurts" she begged.

Jim’s ears stung with the helpless screams of his only daughter. To be introduced to sex in such a horrible way, he thought, her small frame can’t handle that man’s size. To have such a brute of a man split her like that, he had to be tearing up her insides. Jim turned toward his screaming daughter. Chuck’s cock looked as if it were a goddamn baseball bat poking out of her ass. Jim just had to turn away. He didn’t want to see things which would be burned in his mind forever.

"Uh Uh Uh Uh," Cheryl’s voice repeated in sharp yelps that echoed throughout the room. Chuck’s powerful thrusts were driving the air out of her. Her squalling was now being drowned out by Chuck’s louder groans of pleasure. Cheryl was panting, trying to bear the pain of the violent assault by taking only short breaths.

Her smooth white skin contrasted against Chuck’s dark, hairy figure. His huge dong was now buried deep up inside her ass cheeks. Chuck even released his grip on her waist. He held her steady with one hand by mashing down on the small of her back. This caused her ass to flare back towards him. He gave the poor girl enough space so that it looked as though his huge dong was actually restraining her. The bulging shaft arched the gap between them and then disappeared into her creamy-white cheeks.

Eventually, Chuck just leaned back and planted both hands on his hips. He started swinging his hips from side to side. This caused Cheryl’s supple body to follow along. Chuck's dick was now actually jerking her ass around.

"Ride that thing, bitch," roared Andy.

"Giddy-up girl," mocked Chuck, grabbing a hold of Cheryl’s ponytail with one hand and then wheeling the other free hand in the air, rodeo style.

Chuck tried getting to his feet with the girl still attached, but the thick bulb of his cock was wedged so tightly inside of her that her body weight pulled him back down.

Although she couldn’t see it all, Becky was aware of the assault going on with her daughter too. Her muffled cries were cruelly taunted.

"Noooooooooooo!" Becky could only moan.

These men seemed to especially enjoy listening to her suffering. They seemed to get some perverse pleasure out of hearing the wails and moans of each of their victims. Each cry from either Cheryl or Becky was now being answered with an enthusiastic "Yeah Baby, You tell me about it," from one of the men. The tempo of this orgy of lust seemed to hinge on just how many screams of terror the attackers could draw.

"You ride it baby," Chuck yelled, and followed it up with a sharp slap across Cheryl’s ass just for fun.

Meanwhile, every thrust by Manuel continued to roll Becky’s shoulders over the post. Her labored breathing was being exhausted through her nose. He had been humping away steadily at Becky like some beast in rut. Slobber hung from the corners of his mouth as his body went into convulsions. He shook at Becky’s hips wildly, and began spewing his pent-up load into her.

Becky’s saturated cunt would hold no more. The lips of her cunt began to puff open. The loads of cum began oozing out alongside Manuel’s driving prick. Her crotch was a total mess of sweat and mixed semen. Her legs, spread as they were, still twitched weakly some-how trying to resist.

Jim could only listen to his wife’s groans. He was being forced to watch as a helpless witness, as his family was being totally ravaged. His head was throbbing with both rage and pain. He listened to the grunts of the man on top of his wife who was now getting a third load of cum dumped into her. The gut-wrenching screams of his little Cheryl now sounded garbled. The horror of this situation was finally getting to Jim. How could they ever function as a family again? If they survived this, how would they ever be able to look at each other? How would this all end? Or would these thugs just murder them all?

Chuck’s attack on Cheryl was unrelenting. He released her hair, and with both hands on her hips lifted her from the floor. He carried her back to the couch and sitting, pulled her into a position on his lap. Andy stepped around in front of her, and zoomed-in on her face. Chuck lifted the helpless girl upward and dropped her squarely down on to his waiting prick.

Cheryl’s eyes were half-closed now, her resistance completely gone. Drool trailed from her mouth. Her eyes were rolled back in her head. She seemed to be in a trance. Her mind was shutting down. She had been overloaded by this torture, and she was just going limp. Her head began to roll lifelessly back and forth as Chuck began pumping her in his lap. She looked like some half-inflated love doll. Cheryl now only emitted small grunts as Chuck forced her limp body down onto his stiff prick. He had clamped on her chest just under her armpits and was bouncing her in his lap like one would bounce a baby. Chuck soon began to increase his tempo. He shifted his grip, hugging her back against his chest. His large forearms were mashing the girl’s breasts flat. Cheryl was now practically unconscious.

Cheryl’s head had fallen back onto Chuck’s left shoulder and was flopping around as he worked at her. He began roughly biting at the side of her neck. Chuck was holding Cheryl upright, and in her state, she seemed unaware of anything now. She would have probably just slid right out of his lap had he not been holding onto her. With a low guttural groan, Chuck began cumming.

As his body racked with orgasm, he was unwittingly squeezing the air out of her chest. With Cheryl’s head tilted back, she began making gurgling noises, as though cum were bubbling up through her body and up into her throat.

Andy had wanted to get this on video as well, but Chuck was refusing to pull out. With still louder moans, he continued pumping his load into her ass. Andy was frantically trying to get a good camera view. With a free hand, he actually reached down, pushing the girl’s limp legs open. This gave him a clear view of Chuck’s prick. Chuck was clutching the girl tightly against his chest with both arms now. His stiff cock was bent only slightly due to the girl’s weight. The top half of his cock was driven deep up inside her. Her smooth ass cheeks cradled the bottom half of his cock. The entire shaft was pulsing like a live snake. The veins bloated and released, as the semen needed to be forced up and into her. Cheryl’s tight asshole had never loosened its grip on Chuck’s shaft. It had sealed fast, and was accepting the entire load of cum. Not a drop was leaking out.

Finally spent, Chuck’s hands slid down to the girl’s hips. His head collapsed back onto the couch. He held Cheryl at the waist, keeping her in position on top, while he savored his post-cum high. As his cock deflated, Cheryl’s body slowly settled down onto his.

Andy’s own cock had been aroused again by the gang rapes. He shouted at Tito.

"Hey man, are you ready for some more fun?" "This little babe here still has a hole that ain’t been stuffed yet."

"Are you up for a double?" he laughed. "Need someone else on camera."...

End
1 comments

ImpaxReport 

2020-07-11 16:29:32
Let's hear Cheryl's POV. What does she think of sex now?

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