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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
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Archive name: beat.txt (mm/f, teens, rp, intr)
Authors name: wiley06 (wiley06@nym.alias.net)
Story title : BEAT!
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-= This work is copyrighted to the author © 1996. =-
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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Author's Note:
This story is unfinished, although this part does have
a strong sex scene. A summary is that a group of racist
white kids grab a black schoolmate and rape her.
Comments welcome.
Enjoy,
Wiley06
Trish, tired by an evening's hard work at the chew and
spew, doffed her apron and donned her jacket. It was an
hour before closing, 11:00 pm, and she needed to get
home, since it was up at 6:00 for school. She sighed,
resigned although she wished she didn't have to work,
but her parents, Ethiopians both, with a strong work
ethic, had insisted. Every two weeks, at fifteen hours
a week, Trish turned over her $100 paycheck to them,
just like her brothers did. Well, she thought, they
were poor, and every little bit helped. What didn't
help was being black in this southern pit of a town,
where she faced rejection from the whites for her color
and from the blacks because she was an immigrant. Life
sucks, she thought, then you die.
In the restroom she washed her face, trying to remove
some of the grease, which naturally accumulated over
her entire body. She shuddered at the thought and
looked into the mirror. At 15 she was beautiful in that
classic Ethiopian way, with long, kinky black hair
pulled back into a single braid falling down to the
middle of her back, revealing a broad, smooth forehead
and sparse eyebrows over shining dark eyes. All her
features were delicate, including her wide, finely
shaped, small nose, her generous, small mouth, and her
fine cheekbones. Her body was just beginning to turn
womanly, with her B-sized, conish breasts pushing
provocatively against any blouse she wore, her narrow
waist giving way to slightly wider hips and full, firm
buttocks and athletic legs. At 5'2" and 110 lbs, she
was truly stunning at 15, and promised to be even more
so as she aged, her smoky-hued skin only accenting her
beauty.
Sighing, she stepped out the back and started on her
nightly trek home. Lost in a daze of exhaustion she
didn't notice the truck pulling up behind her until it
was just beside her and the boy driving yelled, "Hey
Trish, working hard?" to the laughter of the girl
sharing the cab with him and the two boys and girl in
the bed of the truck. Looking up she saw that it was
Bill, Donny, Greg, Cynthia, and Ruby in the truck, a
small high school clique of seniors who took great
delight in tormenting her as one of the few blacks who
went to their school. Used to their abuse, she lowered
her head, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and
walked on, trying her best to ignore them.
She heard their voices and wondered that they were not
shouting epithets at her, and started when she heard
feet hit the ground. Quickly looking around, she saw
that Donny, Greg, and Cynthia had jumped out of the bed
of the truck and were charging her. Panicked, she
turned and tried to flee, only to take three steps
before they were on her. Her body flew through the air
and landed heavily as someone tackled her, knocking the
wind from her. She scrabbled frantically to get back
up, to flee, but was knocked back to the ground by a
fist driving into her kidney. Pain exploded in her back
and side as she rolled about in pain, only to be met by
a shoe slamming into her stomach, doubling her up. Then
she was being kicked and hit all over her torso and
legs, the blows raining down on her, thudding dully
against her body. She was rolled up in a fetal
position, her arms covering her head and face as they
pummeled her, pain and the brute force of their attack
jerking her body around on the ground.
She didn't know how long they beat her, but she quickly
dropped into a dull distancing as shock set in. She
remained curled up when they stopped beating her, her
mind empty of anything. She didn't react when she heard
one of the boys yell, "Come on, get her in the truck,"
and felt hands grip her and toss her into the bed of
the truck. The jarring of her body against the truck
bed snapping her back into the world. She rolled onto
her back and tried to sit up, her body aching from the
beating, but was thrown back by a hard slap across her
face. When she looked up again, feeling the truck
moving beneath her, she stared straight into the barrel
of a .38 pistol set snugly in Donny's hand while Greg
and Cynthia looked on, expressions of eager
anticipation on their faces.
Trish trembled: she was really scared now, her eyes
frozen on the end of the pistol just inches from her
face.
"Now Bitch," Donny drawled, "put your hands above
your head."
Still staring at the end of the gun, Trish slowly
moved her arms above her head, feeling all the aches
and bruises throughout her body from the beating she
had taken earlier. Oh god, she thought, and shook in
fear and closed her eyes as Donny gently caressed her
cheek with the gun.
"Open wide," he said, pressing the barrel of the gun
against her lips until she parted them slightly.
She shivered and felt the knot of fear in her stomach
tighten as Donny slid the cool, smooth barrel of the
pistol between her lips and into her mouth, her eyes
large and white as she used them to plead with him.
"Now suck on it, bitch," he growled softly, and with a
whimper she obeyed him, drawing in her cheeks as she
began to suck on the gun, which he slowly drew in and
out of her mouth.
Cynthia looked on at the bitch's humiliation and fear
with growing satisfaction. At 5'6, thin with a firm
body and good shape, long blonde hair and blue eyes,
both she and Ruby were the beauties of high school. In
fact they looked so much alike they were now pretending
to be twins, wearing the same clothes and everything.
But though they seemed to have everything, they both
looked at Trish and saw what they could never have:
truly stunning beauty. They were both insanely jealous
of her-and what right, Cynthia thought to herself, does
a fucking stinking nigger bitch like this have to look
that good? She would make her pay and pay.
Greg looked on, his shock of dark hair tossing in the
wind. He had always thought Trish was a looker, but she
was black, so was off limits. Now though, he rubbed his
cock through his pants in anticipation, he would get a
shot at her-of that he had no doubt. If the girls
didn't demand it, he would just take her and rape the
fuck out of her-with a body like that, it was what she
was made for anyway.
Trish closed her eyes as tears began running down the
side of her face, her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked
on the end of Donny's pistol. Her mind and body quailed
as she felt his hand on her stomach, pushing up her
shirt until she could feel his hand against her flesh.
Goosebumps rose on her flesh from the chill and from
the contact of his hand as he rubbed it against her
flat, firm stomach. Her eyes snapped open as she felt
other hands at her hips, undoing the buttons on her
jeans. She made a muffled sound and tried to raise her
head up when the gun was forced far back against her
throat, making her gag, and Donny was leaning over her,
spitting out angrily, "Don't you move, bitch. Don't you
move one little bit! Got it!"
She nodded, her mouth still around the gun, and stared,
frozen like a bird by a snake, up into the blue eyes of
Donny, her lips still around the muzzle of his gun.
Hands continued to pull her jeans down her legs until
they were bunched around her knees, and she heard Greg
whistle over the wind and say, "Woowee. Nice. She's got
even better looking legs than you Cynthia."
"Shut the fuck up, Greg. Are you saying you'd rather
fuck a nigger whore like this than have me?" Greg just
smiled at her and she turned angrily to Trish and tore
her shoes and socks off before pulling the girls jeans
from her body. "Well, there she is, go ahead and fuck
her if you want to so bad."
"Now Cynthia, I didn't mean it like that.... But you
have to admit she's got a good pair on her."
"Well..."
"And wouldn't you love to see those pretty little
legs of hers pulled wide, jerking and trembling as
someone whipped her pussy?"
"Yesss," Cynthia hissed as she pictured the black girl
being abused like that, "yes I would." Greg smiled.
Trish whimpered through the gun when she heard them
speaking. What were they saying? Rape? Whipping? What
were they going to do with her? She was so terrified
she began shaking uncontrollably, wishing she were
anywhere else, even dead.
A silence fell over the back of the truck as Donny
slowly pulled the pistol from the young teenager's
mouth; they were all lost in their own thoughts. Donny
knew that he wasn't thinking straight, knew that the
mere thought of having such a hot piece of meat to do
anything he wanted with was driving him nuts. Most of
all he wanted to hurt her, to make her scream and beg
and cry and plead with him to stop hurting her, to see
her smooth, silky flesh quiver, tremble, and break
under his blows.... It was almost too much for him.
Greg was wondering which of her holes he wanted to fuck
first. It had gone this far, he thought, may as well
take something away from it, and a good fuck of a hot
cunt like Trish would be just what he ordered. He
wondered if she was a virgin, but decided against it:
everyone knew black girls got popped by their fathers
before they started bleeding. Cynthia just wanted to
see the little bitch humiliated, and was busy thinking
up the best way to do so. She was a little wary of
Donny, though: she had never seen him so intense. She
figured it didn't matter that much, and then remembered
that Greg had a couple of dogs....
Trish went into a state of semi-shock as Donny lightly
caressed her face with the pistol, his eyes crazy as he
looked at her, his hand hot against the flesh of her
thighs. She was like a trapped animal, acting solely on
instinct: now was the time to lay still, to do nothing.
Sometime in the future it would be time to flee, and
flee she would, but not now.
For her, the ride went on and on, but in reality they
pulled up to Greg's home, sitting placidly on fifty
acres and set well back from the main road, the tires
kicking up gravel from the long, wide driveway, only
fifteen minutes later. They had chosen this hangout
since his parents were gone for the week; Trish was
just an added bonus.
As the truck lurched to a skidding halt, Trish sprang
into motion. With her shoulder she knocked Donny's gun
hand and body out of her way and sprung up and out of
the truck bed all in one fluid motion, fear and
desperation giving her inhuman agility. Hitting the
ground hard in bare feet she stumbled to her hands and
knees for a moment before she stood and started in a
full sprint back toward the road. Angry voices sounded
behind her and the sound of pursuit followed. She may
have escaped had she not stumbled, but after merely
fifty yards of freedom she was grabbed from behind and
dragged down, the gravel of the roadway skinning up her
legs, arms, and stomach. She struggled maniacally in
Greg's grip, punching and biting and kicking, to no
avail as Cynthia, Ruth, Bill, and Donny caught up and
together held her down.
"Noo! Noo! Let me go! Stop! Please!" she wailed as they
turned her onto her back and they held her spread-
eagled against the ground, Donny and Bill holding her
legs and the girls holding her arms while Greg sat on
her stomach.
"Stupid bitch," Cynthia hissed to herself, her blood up
from the chase. Louder, she said, "Someone shut the
cunt up!"
"Here Greg," Bill motioned, handing him his knife, a
wicked looking boot job with a six inch blade, "cut her
if she keeps yowling."
Greg took the knife reluctantly, not really wanting to
ruin a gorgeous piece of meat like Trish, but then
again, this wasn't really his ballgame. He slapped her
hard on the face several times, each time yelling "shut
up," until it finally registered and she looked
fearfully up at him as he waved the knife in front of
her face.
Her head rocked hard back and forth as Greg slapped
her, and finally she stopped screaming and begging,
hearing him for the first time. Then her eyes caught
the glint of the knife in the moonlight and she froze,
entranced by the flickering blade.
"Well well well," Greg said, seeing that they had
things under control, "seems our little Trish needs a
lesson. What kind of punishment do you think she
deserves for trying to run away from us?"
Punishment, punishment? Trish's mind screamed even as
her eyes remained locked on the blade in Greg's hand.
They had beaten her, kidnapped her, made her suck the
barrel of a gun, stripped her, and then tackled her
bruised body and held her down against the hard gravel
in the middle of the night, and now they were talking
about punishing her? Her mind screamed in protest, but
she remained silent.
"Rape her," Ruth's soft voice said, and Greg looked up
at her in amazement, seeing a look on her face that he
had never before seen, a look of sexual hunger, "rape
her in the dirt and make her beg for it."
Cynthia laughed and cried, "Come on, go for it guys.
She'll love it; all nigger bitches do."
Trish framed the word "No" with her lips but no sound
came out. She was terrified, terrified of these people
she had always thought of as peers, terrified both for
her life and her body, knowing now that there was no
length to which they would not go. All she could think
about was getting out of this alive, oh god she was too
young to die.
Although the boys hesitated at this suggestion, they
didn't hesitate long. Both Donny and Bill pulled her
firm, shapely legs further apart, ceding first shot to
Greg, while Greg slid down her body until he was
sitting on her thighs and quickly cut off her panties.
Only her t-shirt and bra covered her now, and she felt
completely exposed. The back bit into her back and ass
and legs as Greg draped himself over her, and she began
to cry as she realized what was about to happen. She
felt the knifepoint at her chin at the same time she
felt his cock press against her virgin opening, and
shuddered.
"Tell me you want it," Greg hissed, his face just
inches from hers. "Beg me to fuck you."
Sobbing, she said it as the knife drew blood. "Oh
please, fuck me. Please. I want it. I want you to fuck
mmfff...." She was cut off as Greg kissed her hard, his
tongue diving deep into her mouth and his hips jerking
forward as he repeatedly tried to jam his cock into her
cunt.
"Mmmmmfffff," she cried out into his mouth as her body
arched in agony, her virgin cunt yielding only slowly
to his onslaught. Her muscles cramped as more of him
entered her and with one more thrust her agony was
complete.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGG!" she screamed, her
mouth breaking from his, her head thrown back, her
whole body supported only by the head and heels as she
screamed the scream of the damned as she felt her hymen
being raped from her and his cock surge upward to bury
itself fully inside her.
She collapsed back onto the ground, chest heaving and
heart beating, pain invading every part of her being,
and began squirming uncontrollably beneath her rapist,
trying somehow to escape as he methodically began
pumping in and out of her.
Greg was in heaven inside by far the tightest cunt he'd
ever had. His head was at her neck and shoulder, biting
and sucking and kissing as he worked himself in side
her. Cynthia and Ruth were watching, he knew, and that
fact, that those two hot cunts wanted this, turned him
on that much more. Her squirming beneath him made it
even better, hell, the best. It wasn't long before he
felt his balls tighten and that impending tingling from
his loins. He humped faster, her moans of pain and the
encouragements from the girls just further exciting
him, and shot load after load into her ravaged pussy in
the best come of his life.
She cringed inside as she felt Greg fill her with his
seed. The pain was still there, as was the degradation
and humiliation, but she had lost her will to fight.
She knew she would have to suffer two more rapes, but
that didn't matter-she was already beaten.
Ruth stared with a maniacal intensity at Trish's rape,
her beautiful blue eyes wide with lust. It was such a
rush, such a rush to see-no, to have-such a beautiful
girl like Trish humiliated, broken, raped in the dirt
like a beast. She felt a warm glow wash over her body
as she watched Trish struggle beneath her rapist, and
her hand crept down beneath her blouse to her own cunt.
It was wet, so wet, and she began to fondle herself,
feeling her own orgasm building as she watched Greg
about to come himself.
Cynthia loved what she was seeing. Who would have
thought Ruth would have suggested it? No matter, the
black bitch was getting just what she deserved.
Probably loving it too, for all the crying and begging
and screaming.
Donny harrumphed to himself as he watched Greg come
inside the cunt. He could do better than that. The
bitch had only really screamed once. He got up to prove
himself as Greg rolled off her.
Bill actually felt a little sorry for Trish. Not that
he thought she was really human or anything like that,
but even animals deserved a little kindness. Of course,
when they started getting out of control, they needed a
little schooling; it just didn't need to be quite so
brutal. He shrugged to himself. He knew he was going to
take his pleasure from her-he was hard as hell-he just
didn't have to be as thoughtless as Greg or brutal as
he knew Donny was about to be.
Donny told the girls to step back and had Greg and Bill
pull Trish's legs until her knees were wide apart to
either side of her head and her body was bent double,
her ass way up in the air. Trish had a hard time
breathing, but was almost beyond caring. She barely
reacted when Donny placed both hands around her tits to
support himself and only grunted as he thrust himself
brutally into her cunt-the pain already lingering in
her cunt was already almost as bad.
One more thrust and he drove in up to the balls, and
she screamed as his cock pounded against her cervix and
his hands clawed her tits. "Ugggg," she grunted in pain
as he slammed brutally into her cervix again and again;
"Aaaahhhhhhh!" she screamed each time he dug his
fingers mercilessly into her tits; "Aaahhgg..."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 6