Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Blackshaft - 02-02 - The Revengers



   An Apartment.  Afternoon.

   "Wonderful the technology these days, ain't it, Sal?" Smiler looked
round at the body of the old man that sat in the large armchair.  A bullet
hole was clear in the forehead above the two open and dead eyes.  He turned
back to the large wide-screen TV and eased his finger off one of the
buttons on the duel joystick controller in his hand.  A moderately sized
box was under the TV with wires leading to the back of the screen.  "Look
at the graphics on this thing!  You'll love this." Smiler continued.  "So
damn life-like." On the screen a gate was getting nearer.  A guard was
waving from the barrier.  "We just ease it back..." Smiler pulled left
joystick back slowing the speed to a stop.  "It's just like we're
there,Sal." he grinned.  "You remember that Pacman game you had in the
store.  I was never off it.  I thought the graphics were so cool."

   He glanced back at the corpse again.  "And then you threw me out.  Just
as I was so near the high score.  The top of the table, Sal, and you throw
me out.  Spoilsport." The guard had started to come closer.  "So you are
kinda to blame for who I am." Smiler said.  The guard had stopped.  "If you
hadn't thrown me out, I would never have burnt your store down." The
guard's face was screwed up.  "I would never have been busted and might
never had this life of crime.  So it's all you, Sal!"

   The guard started backing up, a look of surprise on his face.  "Look at
those graphics" he laughed.  "That guy looks like he's shitting himself!"
Smiler hit the action button on the controller and the image was suddenly
frozen with a message that the connection had been broken.  He turned and
looked at the corpse again then placed the controller of the games console
in the dead hands.  "I got to thank you for saving me from a boring life.
Thanks, old pal!" Smiler told the corpse and patted the cheek.  He took the
note and the small stapler from his pocket and snapped the note to the
forehead of the body.

   Smiler picked up his hat and the silenced handgun.  The gun was still
warm and the cordite hung in the air.  He began whistling as he walked out,
leaving the TV on and the corpse bathed in light from the screen.



   ***************



   Three days later.

   Ewing Drive.  Evening.

   "We should be long gone by now," the black man in the back seat of the
car complained again.

   "Shut up, I told ya." the driver, the second black man snapped.  "We
ain't leaving till we get that shitbag."

   The third black of the trio didn't take his eyes from the house they
were watching.  "We do this, Creole," he said to the black man in the back.
"We get out.  Like Homie here says.  The shitbag gets it."

   Creole sighed.  It had been three days since the riot had blown Darkgate
wide open.  Someone had blown the gate and caused all the cell doors as
well as ALL the doors to unlock.  The riot had lasted seven hours with
prisoners finally grabbing cars and other vehicles and smashing their way
out.  The papers were still full of it.  Seems half the prison had got away
and the cops were struggling to catch up.  He leant forward.  "So what's
the plan?"

   Homie didn't take his eyes from the house.  It was set in a nice
neighbourhood by the looks of it.  Full of nice houses with nice families.
No fucking ghetto for these people.  "We wait." he said.

   Creole sat back.  They were pushing things.  They could have been
halfway across the country by now.  A light from the house made him look
and he saw the figure walking out and heading for the car.  "We get him?"
Creole asked.

   "Wait." Homie said as the car started then slowly eased out and drove in
the opposite direction to them.

   Creole looked at Homie.  "He's getting away, man."

   "No he's not.  Look at this.  Found it when we wrecked the staff shit.
It was in his locker." Homie smiled as he handed over a picture.  Croele
took it and moved to the side so the lamp light would shine on it.  The
picture showed a woman sitting in a garden wearing sunglasses and a bikini.
She was fair haired and had an average figure The woman couldn't be more
than her mid-forfties.  Not bad looking, he thought.

   "Who is it?" he asked.

   Homie looked back with a grin.  "His fucking woman."



   *



   Catherine Delman could scream.  She watched the biggest mistake of her
life just ignore her as her husband, Greg Delman walked out `to go to
work'. She knew what he was doing.  He was going to work so he could fuck
that young slut of a secretary there.  Twelve years of marriage, pissed
down the toilet because of that little whore who worked in admin.  She'd
seen the pictures from that private detective she'd hired.  Pictures
showing her worthless husband at that whore's place when he'd told her he
had to got to work because of an emergency.

   She'd tried to bring the matter of their marriage up but every time he
would just change the subject.  It was the final straw.  There was so much
they had to talk about but he just found excuse after excuse to avoid it.
They had been trying for children once but according to him the problem had
to be with her.  They never went on holiday, because of `work'.  "Greg
Delman you fucking bastard," she muttered and stepped into the shower.  She
turned on the water....



   *



   "We doing his bitch." the third black man was called Kayne.

   "Shit, I ain't up for rape," Creole shook his head.

   "We ain't doing no rape." Homie told them.

   "Shit," Kayne muttered.  "You know how long it's been since I had a
woman."

   "That racist motherfucker going to learn he ain't the only bastard that
knows how to scare." Homie smiled as he showed them the knife and took the
ski-mask and gloves from his floor.  He looked at the other two black men
and nodded as Kayne slipped his mask on.  Creole finally pulled his on and
followed the other two as they quietly got out of the car.



   *

   The water felt good.  So warm and welcoming on her skin.  She could see
that slut at the prison.  All those men and she has to go after her
husband. Cunt.  Catherine squeezed some bodywash into her hand and lathered
it up before covering her arms and belly.  She bent down and washed her
legs leaving her pussy to last.  The touch of her fingers on her slit made
her smile.  Catherine eased a finger inside herself.  That was something
else her darling husband had been lacking in.  `Too tired, honey,' was the
most used excuse.  Probably not too tired for that slut.  Once they were a
real couple.  All she needed to do was look at that crotch of his and he'd
be ready for action.

   "Mmmmm...." she moaned thinking about the times they used to have. 
Remembering how he felt inside her.  "Mmmmmhhh..." Catherine had her eyes
closed as she was gently fucking her hand....



   *



   "Shitty lock," Kayne said as he gently forced the lock of the back door.
Her eased it open quietly and listened.  Then motioned to Home and Creole
to follow.  He slipped inside and waited as Homie then Croele crept in. 
Kayne quietly closed the door and put the chain on.  They were in the dark
kitchen and Homie kept an eye on the hallway.  The water heater was
humming. Creeping into the hall he heard water running upstairs.

   "Bitch is upstairs." he whispered.  "Remember, no names."

   He looked around and took in the surroundings.  It was a regular house
with the usual shit.  Nice pictures and nice decorations.  Moving past the
main lounge he saw the large widescreen TV and Blu-Ray set-up.  The idea
wasn't to rob the place but wreck it.  Fuck it up, shitbag, he thought.  It
ain't worth taking but it's worth destroying.  I know where you live, you
racist cocksucker.  We know where you and your nice, white wife lives.

   Homie stopped at the pictures on the wall of the hall.  There he was
with the woman in the picture he'd found on the bottom of a locker.  He put
a finger to his mouth and pointed upstairs.  The two black men slowly
followed him up the sides of the stairs, making sure they avoided any that
might too loud when weight was put on it.



   *



   "....aaaahhhh...." Catherine moaned as she came and took a breathas she
just enjoyed the feel of the warm water on her skin.  She took the bodywash
and squeezed some more out.  Quickly she rubbed it all over her body and
turned into the stream of water, lifting her face and washing the lather
off.



   *



   Homie gripped the knife tightly as they got closer to the room where the
sound of water was coming from.  He was smiling under the mask.  The bitch
was going to get it good.  She was going to jump.



   *



   Catherine washed her breasts slowly, enjoying the feeling of her wet,
soapy hands on them.  They were the real thing.  No silicone crap there. 
She wondered if the bitch at work had breasts like these, or were they just
fake like all sluts.  Probably bought by one of her past boyfriends, she
told herself.



   *



   They slid into the bedroom and looked at each other as they saw the
clothes that had been thrown on a chair.  Kayne could feel the hardness
starting between his legs.  They might only be scaring the bitch, but he
was getting some pussy after.



   *



   Catherine washed the bodywash from her skin.  The slut might be young,
she thought.  But can she really fuck?  Youth is nothing without
experience. Catherine knew what a good fuck was.  and Greg hadn't given her
one of those in three years now.  Maybe the little slut will give him
something nasty.  She smiled at that.  The idea of Greg trying to explain
where that STD had come from.  Maybe it would give her the excuse she
needed to kick his ass out and get someone who appreciated her.



   *



   Homie stopped.  The bathroom door was open wide enough to let him see
the bitch.  She was something else in the flesh.  A nice figure, a shapely
ass and sweet tits by the looks of what he could see.  Maybe Kayne's idea
had some merit, he thought as his cock slowly started to get hard.....



   *

   She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel
and began to dry herself off.  Yeah, Greg, hope you get some nasty disease
that makes your dick drop off, she thought.  Catherine ran the towel down
her legs and put it back over the towel wrack.  She pulled the bathroom
door open and stepped though.

   The arm grabbed her from behind and felt the strong grip around her
throat.  Catherine saw the other two figures in the room, both masked and
opened her mouth to scream.  The sharp edge of the blade touch her cheek.
"Scream and it'll be the last thing you do, bitch!" the man holding her
told her.  His voice was deep and angry.  Catherine swallowed the scream.
"P...please don...  don't...." she muttered.  "Jewelery's in the box."

   "Thanks, bitch," the man holding her hissed in her ear.  "Now what else
you got?"

   Catherine remembered she was naked as she felt his free hand sliding
down her belly.  His fingers stopped just abover her neatly trimmed pubic
hair.  Oh, shit, they were going to...  "Please don't hurt me," she begged,
feeling the tears well up.  "Please..." As she said it Catherine felt
something behind her.  The man was getting an erection.  Oh, Jesus....

   "Get the phone!" the man behind her barked and one of the others grabbed
it.  "Rip it out!" She watched the phone was ripped from the wall.  "Here!"
he continued and Catherine was shoved towards the third man.  "Watch the
bitch."

   She was grabbed and shoved onto the bed as the othet two left the room.
"Please don't..." she begged again, this time looking the man charged with
watcing her in the eye.  "Don't rape me, please."

   "We'll do what we fuckin' want, bitch." he replied and Catherine could
hear the sneer under the mask.



   ` *



   "Jesus, you see the tits on that?" Creole said as he was hustled from
the room.  "And fucking naked!"

   "What?" Homie asked.  "You never seen a white bitch naked before?  Now
go around the house and every phone rip it from the wall or take the card
from it.  When that fuck comes home, he is going to find out what fear is
from his bitch."

   "So what are going to do with her?"

   Homie patted Creole on the shoulder.  "Scare the fucking shit out of
her. I told you.  Meanwhile, get all the fucking cash you can.  That fuck
owes us something."



   *



   There was something about his eyes, Catherine saw as she sat on the bed,
trying to cover herself.  He had not allowed her to put on a robe.  The man
reached towards her and pushed her arm away from her chest.  "Shit, you
know how long it's been since I seen titties as nice as yours?" he said. 
Catherine felt scared.  Naked in front of a stranger in her own home.  She
was going to be raped.  No.  Gang-raped.  "Long enough." the man nodded. 
"Part those legs, let me see that pussy." Ooh, fuck.  She swallowed hard
and slowly parted her knees.  "Wider." he told her.  Catherine closed her
eyes as she spread her legs wide.  "Like it trim, huh?" he said.  "I like a
nice, trim pussy."

   Catherine gulped.

   "All the better for fucking you."

   The bastard, she thought.  If she could just get out and...

   "Been too long." he told her.  "Now I had a bitch like you, I would fuck
that sweet body every night."

   What, did he say too long?  Were these men....?  She had heard about the
riot and prison escape.  Were these animals some of the men from that? 
They had somehow found out where Greg lived and, oh jesus "What do you
want?" she said quietly.

   "Hmm?" he asked and leant down to look her in the eye.  She saw he was
black.

   "What do you want?"

   "What do you think?"

   Catherine swallowed again.  "You're from the prison aren't you?"

   "Are we?"

   The fuck was grinning under the mask.  She knew he was.  "Look, if
you're going to rape me, just do it!" she spat and threw her legs open. 
"Come on!"



   *



   "COME ON!"

   What the fuck...?  Homie heard her voice downstairs and started up.  He
ran into the room and saw Kayne, his arms crossed, in front of the woman
who had her legs splayed wide open for hiim.  Kayne looked at him.  "Come
on!" she looked at Homie then Kayne.  "Just fucking rape me!  You're going
to do it anyway!  So get it over with."

   Homie walked around the bed and slapped her across the face.  "You ain't
in charge here, bitch." he said and looked back at Kayne who simply
shrugged.

   Catherine felt the sting in her cheek and saw the other man was black
too.  Was the third?  Three black men.  Three black escaped prisoners. 
They had to be.  And her.  Naked.  White.  Female.  And the wife of one of
their guards.  Three black thugs.  "If you're going to..." She stopped. 
The idea of three black strangers and her was making her feel strange.  Not
strange.  Something else.  Something deeper.  The prison where that bitch
was, she thought.  They were from there.  An image of her husband, Greg
fucking that little whore over her desk popped into her head.  Fucking her
while she herself was left in danger with three black animals.  He'd just
walked out, not bothering to look back.  The hatred for him grew.  Greg
couldn't care less.  The truth was she'd been feeling horny for months now
and Greg wasn't doing it anymore.  It would be over in minutes and she'd
have to finish herself off after some dumb excuse.  Yeah, serve the bastard
right to come home and find it wrecked and as for her?

   Catherine lay back on her elbows and spread her legs.  "Come on." she
told them.  "You're from the prison, aren't you?  How long has it been
since you had a woman?" She looked at them hard.  "You're going to do it
anyway.  So do it."

   Footsteps came from the door and Homie and Kayne looked up to see Creole
standing there.  Homie was aware of the hard-on he had.  The white bitch
was demanding it.  It had been two years since he'd sank his cock into a
pussy.  God, he needed to get some....

   "Bitch ain't saying no." Kayne told them.

   Creole blinked.  "But..."

   "But what?" Catherine told them.  "Either do it or get the fuck out!"

   "Do what you want." Kayne told the two of them.  "I'm taking the bitch."

   "Ooh..." Catherine watched as he unzipped the denims.  A sense of panic
hit her.  They were going to actually do it!  Oh, Christ.  Oh, fuck. 
Ooooh...  She watched the black cock being pulled from the denims. 
Something deep inside her made her keep looking.  "Oh, that's...."

   "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" the black man told her shoving her back onto
the bed.  "You want it?  You get it!"

   ...Big, she thought.  It looked so big.  She looked at the man's eyes.
There was a determination in them.  A hard, cruel determination.  She felt
the head of his thick, purple-black shaft pushing at her sex lips. 
Something was telling Catherine she should be fighting him.  She should be
screaming and scratching him.  She should be....

   He was inside her.  She stared up at him, panting hard as the shaft
throbbed.  Her pussy walls were juicing up.  Had it been so long her body
wanted anyone, she thought.  Her own pussy was stretching to accept this
black thug.  This was so wrong.  So damn wrong, but...  She felt him
pulling back, leaving the fat head inside her.

   "AAH!" she gasped as he thrust forward and she felt his length filling
her pussy.  "Aaaahhh...."

   Kayne chuckled, looking down at the white bitch.  It felt good to sink
his cock into a pussy again.  Especially a wet, white pussy.  "You ain't in
charge, bitch." he said and slammed his cock deep inside her again.  She
was mouthing something, still looking deep into his eyes.  There was
something he'd seen plenty of times before.  Every bitch showed in in their
eyes.  They might be saying one thing, but their eyes were saying something
else.

   God, she mouthed...  Oh my god...  Oh my god....  Catherine wanted to
scream but that thick, black cock just felt so good inside her.  It had
been so long since she'd felt so full.  He stopped inside her and Catherine
felt his cock gently throb.  It felt so hard.  She watched as the black man
looked towards the man at the door then back down to her.  "That's one wet
cunt." he told her.  "You're asshole husband not giving you enough?"

   Catherine just lay there gasping for breath.  Her pussy was wanting to
feel that cock start to move again.

   "So fucking easy." Kayne said and looked at Creole.  He started gently
thrusting into the white woman.

   "Search the house." he heard Homie say and glanced back Homie had his
cock out and stroking it hard.

   "Unless you want some of this." Kayne smiled and looked down at the
woman.  The hard face was gone.  He could see the pleasure there instead.

   Catherine closed her eyes as the first real orgasm that wasn't
self-induced in years hit her.  He'd only started and was making her cum.
The cock felt so deep inside her.  Fuck Greg.  Fuck that little slut.  She
slid her hand onto his ass and pulled him down on each thrust.  He stopped
suddenly and she opened her eyes to see the black man inside her standing
in front of her.  The third man had gone.  "I'm doing this properly." the
black man said as he started pulling his clothes off.  She saw the other
man doing the same.  Their jackets went, then the shirts, then the trousers
and shorts.  They were standing in front of her naked except for the masks.
She looked over their muscular bodies, looking at the dark tattoos on their
dark skin.  Then stopped at the two dark, hard cocks.  "Hands and knees,
bitch." the man between her knees told her.

   Catherine slowly turned over and crawled to the centre of the bed. 
"Shit, look at that ass." she him say and yelped when she felt him slap her
ass sharply.

   The other black man was in front of her and grabbed her hair with both
hands.  "Open your mouth, whore!" he ordered and she slowly opened it.  The
black cock pushed at her lips and forced it's way in as she felt the bed
take the man behind her.  The familiar round shape pushed at her throbbing
pussy lips and she felt him enter her from behind easily.  How wet was she?
She felt two strong hands slap onto her hips and then the cock pulled back.
She felt the cock in her mouth waiting as the hand gripped her hair.

   "HMMPH!" Both cocks charged into her suddenly.  The one in her mouth
forced her jaw open wider as the cock in her pussy started pounding away.

   "Hell, yeah!" the black man behind her cried out as he started pushing
his whole length into her, his balls slapping against her thighs.  She
heard the man in her mouth laugh as he pushed his cock along her tongue and
found the back of her throat.  She gagged, but all he did was push back
in....



   *



   Creole sat on the steps as he heard the sound coming from the bedroom.
No rape, he'd said.  It was not going to be rape.

   "White fucking whore!" he heard Kayne say.

   "Aaaah!" Homie gasped.

   "Balls deep, man!" Kayne said.

   "Yeah, man!" Homie replied.  A loud slap of skin.

   "MMMMMMMHHHH......"

   "Who's in charge, bitch!" Homie said.

   "MMHH-MMH...."

   "Who's boss here!" Kayne demanded.

   A loud gasp came followed by hard panting.

   "Who's the fuckin' boss?" Homie said.

   Shit, shit, shit, Creole thought and headed downstairs.  He'd just
search the house.  He stopped and adjusted his cock.  The thoughts of that
white woman upstairs was getting him hard....



   *



   "MMMHH....  MMMHHH!!!" Catherine was suffocating as she felt the black
hands grip her hair and pull her head down his huge, black cock.  He'd
forced his shaft into her throat and held it there.  "GGUUHH!" She started
slapping a hand on the bed then on his thighs, wanting him to stop and pull
back.  She heard the laughter from behind her and felt the cock in her
vagina slowly withdraw.

   Suddenly her head was yanked from the black man in front and she found
herself casually toss onto the bed.  She couldn't take her eyes from his
cock and saw it was shiny and slick with her saliva as she coughed, getting
her breath back.  The black man moved towards her and grabbed her head
again.  He put his face close to hers.  She saw his eyes were full of the
same cruel, dominant look the other man had.  She just knew in that moment
that they were from the prison.  The phones were out of action and the
windows were double-glazed and near sound-proof.  Catherine was at their
mercy.  They could do whatever they wanted to her....

   The feeling came over her suddenly and she felt the pleasure explode
throughout her body.  "Oooh..." she gasped, looking deep into the blac
man's eyes.  "UUUUUuuuuuuuhhhh...." Catherine was having an orgasm!  Her
whole body was trembling as she felt the throb-throb-throb of pleasure.

   "Jeee-Zuz!" Kayne gasped as he watched the white woman's body quiver on
the bed.  "What the fuck d'you do!  The bitch just came!"

   Homie knelt up, looking down at her as her hand went between her legs.
He nodded proudly.  "Who's the boss, bitch?" he asked again.

   Catherine gasped in short, sharp breaths as she couldn't believe how she
just climaxed.  She gently rubbed her eager pussy lips.  "You..." she
mouthed."

   "What you say?" Kayne said.

   Catherine looked up at the black man who's cock was slick with her
saliva.  "You are."

   "Bitch knows her place!" Homie grinned.  He grabbed her leg and pulled
her round on the bed then pushed between her legs and looked down at her.
"You know you're place." he told her and reached down, grabbed his cock and
found her pussy lips with the hard head.  "Don't you?" he asked.

   Catherine felt the head probe then rub up and down her pussy.  She
wanted to feel it push against her, to push between those lips and fill her
up.  She want to feel him inside her....



   *



   Creole had found all the money he could.  There was also the usual
things they could sell like the silverware and if they were out in time and
had the right numbers they could use the credit cards.  He made his way
back up the stairs and stopped as he realised how quiet it was.  Except for
the soft squeak-squeak-squeak of a bed moving.

   He had been in prison for breaking into houses.  Nothing violent. 
Nothing sexual.  Inside he'd heard the boasts of how many women some of the
guys had `fucked'.  They had all said it was with the woman's consent and
the bitches had lied.  Creole steeled himself as he walked into the bedroom
and blinked.

   They were naked.  The woman was underneath Homie and had her knees up as
he gently thrust into her.  Homie was face to face with her.  The woman was
staring at him.  Not crying.  Not fighting.  Not trying to push him off. 
Her arms were around his neck.

   "Shit, man, you missed something," Kayne said from the other side of the
room.  "My man just looked at her and she came!"

   "Huh?" Creole said confused.

   "AAAaaahhh..." Homie grunted, driving his hips down and rearing up.  The
woman's hands slid down his back as she closed her eyes and let out a soft
moan.  "Mmmmhhh...." Homie moaned then knelt back.  Creole saw the thick
shaft slip out from the white woman's pussy.  It was obvious he'd cum
inside her.  She just lay there, smiling and rubbing her slit.

   "Just the usual shit," he told Homie.

   Homie got off the bed and Creole saw Kayne climbing on.  He crawled up
between her legs and looked down at her.  "Open wide, baby." he told her.
The woman just lifted her knees and Creole saw Kayne push inside her.  He
began fucking her immediately.

   "Usual shit?" Homie asked.

   The woman was looking up at Kayne, her hands rubbing his waist as he
thrust into her.  Creole gulped.  The woman was into it.

   "Hey!" Homie said, snapping Creole out of his gaze.  "Usual shit?"

   "Yeah.  Money, credit cards..." His gaze drifted back to the action on
the bed.

   "Safe?"

   "....eh..."

   "What about a safe?" Homie said.

   Creole snapped back.  "Oh, eh, can't find anything."

   Homie walked to the bed and pulled the woman's face to him.  "You got a
safe here, bitch?" he demanded.  Kayne stopped fucking her.

   "Don't stop..." she pleaded.

   "You want this, you tell us about the safe." Kayne told her and slowly
pulled back from her.

   "No!" she shook her head.  "Downstairs!  A loose bit on the kitchen
floor."

   "How's it open?" Homie asked.

   "14-22-19-G." she said and looked back at Kayne.  "Please.  Don't stop."

   "Told you the bitch knew her place." Homie said to Kayne and looked back
to Creole.  "Well?"

   "On it." Creole said, feeling his own cock getting hard.  He back out of
the room and headed downstairs.



   *



   Catherine moaned as she felt the hard, black dick slowly sinking back
inside her.  Right now she would give anything to keep feeling that hot,
throbbing shaft deep inside her.  It felt so good as it pushed deeper and
deeper inside her.  "....uuuuuhhhhhh...." She closed her eyes and
concentrated on the hard cock that was slowly building up speed as it
thrust into her....

   Suddenly he stopped, forcing every inch he could inside her.  Catherine
opened her eyes as she felt the explosion of hot, thick cum inside her. 
She slid her hands down and gripped his buttocks, two hard, jerking mounds
of muscle as she felt him him filling her.  Catherine groaned as she felt
the waves of pleasure building up in her body.  It was the best sex she'd
had in years.  She wanted it.  She needed it.  And Greg?

   Fuck Greg.  Let him have the little whore in the prison.

   Catherine opened her eyes as she felt the black thug pulling out.  He
slid off the bed and high-fived the other black man who knelt then crawled
onto the bed.  There was no foreplay, no games.  He pushed himself inside
her and smiled as she wrapped her legs around him.  He felt so good inside
her as well.  Catherine looked up at him and gasped as she slammed his
whole length into her.

   "Find it?" she heard.  The third thug was looking at her.  Catherine
could see the lust in his eyes as she felt the second man thrusting into
her.

   "Get it later." he said and she could hear the smile under the mask. 
"After I've had some of that pussy."

   She felt the rising pleasure inside her and knew the orgasm was coming
soon.  Three black thugs were going to take her.  Use her.  They were going
to fuck her and she was going to enjoy every second of it.  She couldn't
think of a better way to get back at Greg....



   Three Days Later.



   A Police Car.  Evening.

   Kayne had heard that the other two had been caught.  So much for plans
he thought looking out the back of the cop car.  the two cops in front were
saying nothing as they were taking him back to the prison.  Or they should
have been.  The car stopped at a fancy looking iron gate then drove through
them when they opened.  "Where the fuck you takin' me?" he said, then
blinked as he saw the large metal sign beyond the gate.  "Hey!" he yelled.

   The sign had read something like `St Ignatious School for young
women'.....

   "Shut up!" one of the cops said back.  "A man's got a deal to offer
you!"



   Two Weeks Later.



   An Apartment.  Morning.

   Jane Gregg walked through into the front room of the apartment.  She
wasn't in a good mood.  They had only found half the convicts that had
escaped from Darkgate.  The detective looked up as she stared at the
corpse. Gregg smelled it before she entered the apartment.  The natural
process of decay had started.  That was what had finally got the neighbours
attention.  "Commissioner," the detective, a female who looked older than
her years, said.

   "There was something I needed to see?" Jane asked, looking at the note
attached to the forehead.  It read two words; `PLAY ME', in a crayon
scrawl.

   "Yes," the detective nodded.  She picked up the controller from the arm
of the chair.  "There's no fingerprints on it.  But there is this." She
went through the console's menu system until she accessed the video
section. The TV screen was suddenly filled with the face of a dead man.  A
grinning dead man.

   "HELLOOOOOOOO, COMMISSSSHHHH!" Smiler declared from the large TV.

   Jane Gregg just stared, her blood running cold.  "He's dead." she said
finally.

   "I know.  I'm dead.  `Cept I got better.  Seeing as your watching me
watching you it means you found my old pal there.  Well, not an old pal
really.  Sal was a old son of a bitch.  No real sense of humour."

   "He is fucking dead...." Jane said again.

   "Anyhoooo." Smiler sat back, rubbing his gloved hands.  "To business. 
It was me.  I blew up that van at Darkgate Prison.  And it was me that
hacked the rather crappy prison computer system so all the gates opened
when they were told to lock shut.  I mean, an old Commodore 64 would've
made a better system.  And I used that wonderful box down there to trigger
the whole thing.  The toys these days!" Smiler grinned.  "Now you have
maybe noticed what I have.  Things have got a little dull around here.  A
certain high and mighty person has..." He waved his hands dissmissively. 
"...Well, vanished.  Not only her but her little girlfriend too." Smiler
beamed from the TV as he moved in and filled the screen.  "It's been over a
year now so let's just face facts.  They are gone.  And I have looked. 
They have fucked off and found a nice little secluded place.  Somewhere
they can 69 each other to their lesbo delights.  Anyway, Commish.  On the
off-chance you might know how to find her, you naughty girl, tell the Queen
her number one fan is back, and to get her face out of that hot teenage
pussy---"

   BOOM - BOOM - BOOM - BOOM!

   The TV exploded as the bullets crashed into it.  The gunshots echoed
around the room causing other officers to pull their weapons until that saw
the person responsible.  Holding the smoking gun was Jane Gregg with a
hate-filled look on her face.  "Why can't he just fucking DIE!" she spat.

   "Commissioner....?" the detective said quietly but saw Jane Gregg storm
out of the room.



   Nine Months Later.



   Eglin City Hospital.  Day.

   "YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" The scream from Catherine nearly
split Greg's ears as she started the short, quick breaths she had been
taught.  She was gripping the metal sides of the hospital bed and braced
herself with the metal stirrups that held her legs up and apart.

   "HU!  HU!  HU!  HU!  HU!  JEEEZZZZUS FFFFFUUUUCKINNNNN CHRRRRIIIIST!!!!"
she screamed.

   "Okay, Cathy." the female doctor said from between her legs.  "Keep
pushing!"

   "Keep pushing, hon--" Greg said as he wiped the sweat from his wife's
brow.

   "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU ASSHOLE!" Catherine told Greg, shocking him a
bit.

   "Don't worry," a nurse said to him.  "It's just the stress."

   Catherine lay back, a grin across her face and grunted as she pushed
again.  "FFFFFFUUUUUCK!"

   She had lied to him all those months ago.  Greg had come home and found
the house turned upside down and the safe was emptied.  She told him and
the police that the three men hadn't touched her.  They'd threatened to but
hadn't put a finger on her.  The shock had brought Greg closer to Catherine
and seemed to fix their marriage.  He was more like the man she used to
know.  The slut was gone.

   "Okay, here comes baby!  The head's coming.  Just keep...." The doctor
fell silent and exchanged looks with the other medical staff.

   "What?" Greg asked.

   "Just keep pushing, Cathy." the doctor said quickly.  A nurse looked at
the doctor and mouthed two words to her.  The doctor quickly shook her head
and mouthed back a single word.

   "What is it?" he said again.

   "OOOOH GOD, COME ON!  UUUUHHH!!!" Catherine pushed again.

   "Nothing." the doctor shook her head, a little too quick.

   "What the hell is wrong, doctor!" Greg leapt to the bottom of the bed.
"What's wrong with the...."

   "OOFFH...  OOFFH...  OOFFH..." Catherine blew on each push.  She could
see the look on her husband's face.  A look of confusion.

   "....black?" Greg muttered staring at the large black head pushing
through the stretched, pink lips between his wife's spread thighs.  He
looked up in shock at Catherine.  "Black?" he repeated.  The grin spread
across the Catherine's face as she panted hard and continued to push her
new black child into the world.  "You...?  Black...?" he started.

   "FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!" She was grinning as she screamed at him
triumphantly.  "FUCK YOU....!!!!" Catherine Laughed....


   THE END