Whipped captive

CHAPTER SIX

Christina tried to keep quiet. Mike kept hitting her with that belt. The line of pain moved closer to her cunt.

"Uhhhhh!" she groaned, covering her mouth with one hand and rolling back onto her belly. He whacked her reddened asscheeks again and again, making her taut round ass jiggle like two large mounds of pudding. The blonde teen crawled on the floor, feeling particles of dirt work into her moist fuck-crack. The bikers were getting drunker by the minute, pouring beer on her body, kicking her, hitting her, threatening her with a gang rape. And all the while Mike flailed away at her ass with his belt.

"Hey, man, ain't she had enough?" Chuck asked, putting a restraining hand on his buddy's arm.

Mike shuddered, wiping the sweat from his face and forehead while letting his right arm go limp. The biker stared down at the sobbing teen and smiled, observing how many dark-red whip stripes she had on her white flesh. Christina's tiny body shivered with pain, shame and excitement.

"Yeah, enough of this. Shit, good thing you stopped me. I would've pounded her into mincemeat," Mike said, throwing the belt away.

"Hey, come on, show ain't over yet, is it?" some of the bikers began to ask.

"Naw, it ain't over. Just beginnin'," Chuck answered back, winking at Mike.

The two of them backed away and whispered something in the ear of a third. Christina stifled her sobs and dared to turn her head around. Peering through strands of hair curtaining her face, she saw Chuck and the third biker disappear into the darkness of the kitchen behind her.

"We got us a little prize from that rumble you heard about. Got the leader's girlfriend," Mike said, nodding his head toward the kitchen doorway.