Daughter degraded

CHAPTER SIX

Several hours passed and no one came for her. Cindy lay in the small cell, trying to clean herself as best she could with her torn blouse. Her thighs were smeared with blood and an as she lay on the floor, staring up at the dirty ceiling.

What awful thing had happened to her! She had been raped, violated, her dignity ripped from her. But was that really true? When Jack had held her down, premed his dirty fingers against her shoulders and pushed his knees against her thighs.

Hadn't she felt that thrill, that secret lust sensation that made her pussy hot, slick and easy to fuck?

"No!" Cindy covered her face with both hands, rolling onto one side and sobbing quietly.

That awful thought came back again and again. She had let him touch her, had actually enjoyed the beating, the slapping around, the pulling of hair and the resulting degradation that preceded that awful, brutal rape. Rape? She had to keep telling herself it was a rape. How could she face herself, her mother, her friends, if she were to acknowledge the fact that she had encouraged him… to do that terrible thing to her?

Footsteps!

Cindy tensed, drawing her knees up against her tits and scooting backward. Gathering the remnants of her clothes to her tits and belly, she edged up against the far wall, her scalp crinkling with terror as the door opened once more.

It was the other two men who had kidnapped her, standing there, smirks on their faces.

"Jack said you're a pretty good fuck. I'm Don. This here's Joe."

Don was thin, blond with a dark beard framing his Germanic face. Joe was stockier, thickly built, packed with muscles, his dark-brown eyes sparkling with vitality. He was holding straps of leather in one hand, tapping them against his thigh.

"What… what do you want?"

The words were ridiculous. Cindy knew what they wanted and that thought terrified her. She drew her legs protectively under her ass, her eyes shifting from one to the other, wondering what they had in store for her.

"I ain't had me a woman in more 'n five days," Don said, rubbing his lips. "Joe and Jack, they get all the cunts that come through here."

Cindy raised her eyebrows. All who come through here? What was going on? Headlines raced through her confused brain. She remembered hearing her mother talking about girls being kidnapped, who were later found beaten and raped. The girls used to talk about their ordeal, mumbling something about several rapists. Of course the outraged families didn't press the matter. And, considering how many rapes and murders were going on in Los Angeles at the time, the news quickly became old and forgotten. But now it reared its head and Cindy could hear those conversations of her mother, could see the headlines screaming out about the fate of those unfortunate girls. Cindy was going to become one of them. She knew it the moment she saw those cocks pressing against the tight-fitting faded jeans on those men.

Don kicked the door shut, then started fumbling with his pants. Joe did the same, working the jeans down over his thick-muscled thighs. In a moment they stood near her, their cocks hard, rigid, ready to plow into her soft warm pussy.

Cindy gasped as Joe came at her, one hand stretched in front of him. She stared at their dicks – both narrower than Jack's but as long and hard. And they were all tightly muscled. Her blood began to surge strangely through her body. More torture, more humiliation. She scooted back along the wall, feeling her ass pressing against the corner.

"Come on, baby. From what I hear, she ain't the shy type."

It was Joe who grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out.

Cindy cried out, her right arm nearly jerking out of the shoulder socket. Her tits slapped together while her knees slid painfully over the splintered floor. Scrambling forward to keep her balance, Cindy managed to make it to her feet, dropping her torn clothing to the floor.

Joe smiled. "She might really dig leather, you know? Lots of broads do after they get a taste of it. Jack says you're gettin' a good hot taste of it later."

What did Joe mean? What did those terrible words whispered in her ear mean? He was behind her now, cinching her tits with leather straps. He pulled tight so her shoulders were drawn back. Her tits rose like boulders, solid and smooth and white. The nipples were already distended.

Cindy groaned, trembling at this unreal terror. As he lashed her belly next, opening her legs and bringing the leather between them, Cindy felt her cuntal muscles contract.

"She likes leather, Joe," Don said, standing in front of her.

Don squeezed and pinched her tits, rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and smiling with satisfaction as her face became a mask of twisted pain.

"You dig it, baby? You like this, bein' strapped down, tied up? Lots of cunts dig it," Joe said, his lips becoming flecked with spit as his excitement grew. He hunched forward, rubbing his cock into her sweaty narrow asscrack.

Fucked in the ass! No, no, she couldn't take it there. His dick would tear her bowel lining, kill her! Cindy panicked, wiggling her ass away.

But Joe was stronger. He pulled back on the leather reins, hauling her back against his body.

"Tie her tightly, Joe."

Both men were on her. Don kept pinching and squeezing her nipples, at times dropping his hand and trying to guide his dick into her hot, dripping cunt hole.

Cindy felt the fumbled attempts, felt his dickhead rubbing hotly against her cunt.

Don was too excited, too worked up to guide his dick skillfully into the girl's snatch. Instead he kept rubbing the head against her clit, pinching her nipples until Cindy squealed with pain and pleasure.

"Don't! Oh don't!" she panted, throwing her head back.

She looked up at the ceiling, her eyes glazed over with tears as both men fondled her body. She was a victim, an innocent torture victim, snatched from the protection of home and society so quickly and thrown into these perverted cums.

Her belly and cunt were a riot of conflicting sensations. Revulsion and lust, terror and desire washed through her, wave after wave, confusing her more and more. Her sexual heat rose, the inferno in her pussy intensified.

Joe was squatting down behind her, pressing his knees against the backs of her legs and spreading open her asscheeks. He was molding the firm, heavy flesh of her ass. His cock was oozing precum.

Cindy felt the slickness rubbing over her asshole, her asscrack. No, no, he couldn't fuck her there! Her feet danced on the floor, her asscheeks jiggled while Joe eased up to her.

For one mad moment Cindy thought about having both of their cocks worming their way through her body pounding in and out. It would be like having two Jacks fucking her at once. The blonde teen knew what one had done to her, had made her pussy feel like! Imagine having two clicks hammering her body, having two sets of balls pumping their heavy loads of jizz into her.

"No!"

How could she be thinking thoughts like that? They were horrible, awful ideas, put in there by some dark evil force.

Don pressed his dick against her belly, grabbing her head with both hands and kissing her hard. He was rubbing and scraping his teeth against hers while still trying to stick his dick into her cunt. Suddenly he cried out, his belly slapping hard against hers. Something very hot was streaking across her belly.

"Waawwwwhhhh fuck!" Don screamed.

He was cumming, spattering his cum on her belly and tits. She whipped her hips against his against her will, feeling the leather sawing back and forth, working into her cunt. The leather cut into her pussy, sawing closer to her clit with each jerk of her hips.

She knew what she was doing. There was nothing in the world that could tell her otherwise. She felt that her clit swelling. She moaned, hardly able to breathe as Don clung to her thighs.

Joe was working his dick into her butt, rubbing the head of his cock against the tightly puckered flesh of her asshole. Even in her high state of arousal, Cindy couldn't let him touch her there, couldn't let him stick his dick into her ass.

"Come on, baby, loosen up, loosen up for me," Joe whispered, flicking his tongue in one ear.

Her tits rose and fell. The nipples strained against Don's grabbing fingers. His cock against her belly kept pumping out more and more jizz, sucking down her already wet flesh. The perverseness of his act began to kindle her own bizarre cravings. She wanted everyone in the room inside her, even Jack.

Cindy closed her legs and flexed her thighs, rubbing her clit against the leather. She whipped her hips, and the juice-slickened leather gouged and scraped her clit.

Joe was muttering something behind her. And then he popped, shooting his cum all over her asshole without having managed to worm his dickhead inside.

"Fuckin' bitch!" he muttered, digging his fingertips brutally into her assflesh, spraying out his load, jerking against her body.

Cindy felt dizzy, having been thrown from one man to the other. She felt like some kind of ping-pong ball that had been beaten from one side to the other. She was being drowned in hot creamy jizz. They were trying to fuck her silly. And they were bungling it! Only Jack seemed to know what he was doing.

After the final throbs of their orgasm passed, Don and Joe backed away, letting the leather left to the floor. Cindy managed to stay standing, her hands fluttering over her body, wondering how she could clean herself up.

"Go on, wipe up," Don said, kicking the pile of her torn clothes at her.

Cindy bent down carefully, picking up her blouse and wrapping the material around her right hand. She dabbed her body dry. When she dropped the other hand, cupping it over her cuntal mound, she realized her fingers were wet with juice. She was still hot, not having cum during the last terrible episode.

"My God, what am I becoming," the girl whispered to herself, throwing the dirty torn blouse away.

Cindy felt she was growing up fast, understanding the mysteries of her body and that of a man's in a very short period of time.

"Having fun?"

Jack's voice boomed through the room, sending a shiver tip Cindy's spine.

"Hey, man, we… were just foolin' around," Joe said, shuffling his feet nervously.

Cindy saw the sudden change in Joe's and Don's attitudes. There wasn't that bravado, that cockiness of before. There was no doubt in her mind who was the boss around here. And that knowledge terrified her.

"Come on, let's get er out into the front room," Jack muttered, kicking the discarded leather straps to one side.

Don jerked his head to the doorway. Never before had Cindy felt so vulnerable, so naked. She covered her tits and cunt as best she could and shuffled from her tiny cell.

As she walked down the dingy corridor, Cindy thought she could hear sobbing behind several other doors. They were locked, she was sure. How many other girls were here, tied down, kept here for, God only knows, what?

"Okay, in here," Jack said, entering the living room.

When Cindy walked in, her eyes widened. The room was like a photographer's studio… two light reflectors stood opposite one another near a torn sofa. Don went on ahead, adjusting one of three light stands, the casings all pointing toward the middle of the room. On a small stand to the right was an old tape-recorder. A fresh reel had obviously just been put on. The motor hummed, ready to go.

"Wh-what's going on here?" Cindy asked, her heart skipping beats.

"What do you think? You're gonna be a star," Jack said, fingering her long blonde hair.

Cindy felt her flesh crawl. Instinctively she knew what they were going to do to her. She was going to be a star, all right – a star for some porno pictures, forced to commit indecent acts for their pleasure and profit! It made her sick.

"Get on the couch… on your hands and knees," Jack ordered, the lump in his pants growing long and thick once more.

Reluctantly Cindy did as she was told, still trying to hide her tits from their prying eyes. Her hands and knees pressed into the filthy torn cushions of the sofa, puffs of dust rising from the material and burning into her eyes. Cindy sneezed, turning her head away. There was a foul stale smell coming from the couch, smelling as if someone had used it as a urinal at one time.

"Ready? Got the camera ready? The tapes?"

Don and Joe moved around the couch. Don adjusted the lens and checked the angle while Joe stood behind the tape recorder, his eyes glowing with excitement.

"Lots of dudes are into S amp;M nowadays, know that?" Jack said, sitting next to Cindy.

Cindy felt awful kneeling in this obscene position. Behind her, she could hear the camera clicking. They were taking pictures of her ass, of the few tufts of blonde cunthairs that curled up just behind her perineum and pointed at her asshole. The weight of her tits pulled sexily at her upper chest, the nipples brushing against the worn material of the filthy cushions below.

"They jerk off over pictures like these… some blonde chick being beat up or something," Jack muttered.

He was reaching down to a large leather pouch that hung on his belt. Snapping it open, he pulled out a switchblade. Jack examined it, whistling.

Cindy knelt there, her eyes focused on the knife, her breath coming in short pants. She had heard of movies where people had been really killed for effect… where young girls had been murdered for people who enjoyed watching that sort of thing.

Cindy dug her fingernails into the couch cushions, trying to muster all the courage she could. Please, God, please, don't let this happen to me!

Jack pressed a small black button and the six-inch blade snapped out, the cracking sound chilling Cindy's blood.

"Hit the tape."

Cindy heard the clicking of a button and knew she was now being recorded. She could only imagine just how lucrative this field was. How many other girls had been put through this? Once more Cindy thought of the headlines telling of young women found beaten and dumped in canyons near Los Angeles. She shivered with revulsion, knowing she would be one of those victims now.

"Ohhhhhh…"

Jack was running the point of the knife along the sole of Cindy's right foot. She gasped, her toes curling protectively. If she wouldn't have been so frightened it would have tickled.

Jack held the black wood handle in the easy, accustomed grip of two fingers and his thumb. It was apparent he had been through this before. Glancing to the right to make sure Don had the camera on him, he moved the knife in a broad angle, slicing a thin line across Cindy's right buttock.

Cindy screamed, throwing herself violently against the back of the couch. She started to get up. But Jack was ready for her, grabbing her by the back of the neck and forcing her back down. Whimpering, her face flushed and wrinkled with worry, Cindy tried to inch away from the sharp pain.

"Oh no, no, please!" she whispered, her shoulders shaking with terror.

Behind her, the tape-recorder picked up her uneven breathing, her pants of fear, her pleas for mercy. This was going to be a good tape, a good filming session for Jack and his cronies.

"Oh, please put that knife away!"

Jack licked his lips. The cut had made a small flesh wound. He loved watching Cindy shaking with terror, enjoyed seeing her flesh crawl, her nipples grow long and turgid. Fear and pain and pleasure-related somehow in the same way as love and hate. When pushed to the ultimate, the body goes haywire and what would be thought of as agony suddenly becomes delight. Jack had seen it happen time and time again, and, he was still fascinated by it.

"Wh-what are you going to do to me?"

She heard no answer. The silence was more maddening, more horrifying than the mast terrible answer she could have imagined. She didn't dare look back at Jack. She tried closing her eyes, blocking out the scene going on behind her. But that was impossible. She could hear the men breathing heavily, hear the whirring of the tape recorder as Jack inched closer behind her.

Cindy held the side of her face against one of the pillows. Jack licked his lips as he studied the firm, round white swell of her buttocks. The quivering in her ass muscles made the smooth globes move tightening, relaxing, then tightening again.

Jack breathed a little harder. His deep, uneven breaths seemed to fill the room.

"Get that ass up higher, bitch," he barked, slapping her ass hard with one hand.

Her asscheeks jiggled, flashing hot under that attack. Cindy cried out, biting the pillow, edging her knees up under her tits and angling her ass up when all she wanted to do was sink out of sight, to disappear, to die rather than listen to him.

Slowly, reluctantly, Cindy brought her knees up farther, raising her buttocks in the air. The wet, sticky line of her pussy crack was exposed.

Cindy heard another click of the camera.