Chapter 8: Finding myself

Over the next three years I think I fucked practically every guy in the school. I became known as the girl who was easy. I knew the were calling me "Lisa round heels" and worse behind my back, but I didn't care. I was always searching for that one great crashing orgasm like I had experienced with Bill. I never found it.

When I turned 16 I got my driver's license and my dad bought me an old, but very serviceable car. I got a job working at McDonalds after school and, for a while, I was able to still the longing between my legs. I continued to work almost full time during that first summer. When my parents went on vacation to the mountains for four weeks (Dad had a lot of vacation time) I had to work and convinced them that I was safe to stay by myself.

The first week was relatively uneventful. I worked every day up until Friday when I had a date with Mike. The sex that night was less exciting than it had ever been before. It was then that I decided on a plan – after all, I had to do something.

The following Thursday I called in sick. At the same time I told them that I felt so bad that I probably wouldn't be in until Monday. The manager was very understanding and told me to take as much time as I needed. With the problem of work out of the way, I packed some clothes into a suit case, threw it into the car and I was off.

I drove to a mid-sized town about fifty miles from home. Since I had never been there before, I drove around for a while learning the town. I finally found what I was looking for, a rundown area with a lot of bars and some really rough looking characters.

I then checked into a motel about ten blocks from the area that I had found paying for three nights in advance. I went to a five and dime store and bought on of those little metal boxes with a magnet on it. You're supposed to use it to hide an extra car key under the bumper in case you lock yourself out of the car. I intended to hide it under the bumper, but it wouldn't contain a car key.

By the time I had completed my preparations it was nearly five in the afternoon and I was getting hungry. I had a big dinner at the motel restaurant and went to my room. I took off my clothes and stood naked in front of the full length mirror. I liked what I saw. I had small, but perky breasts. My legs were firm and solid and there was no sign of a bulge in my stomach. The vee between my legs was covered with a soft, thin down. All in all, I looked like the very pretty sixteen year old girl that I was.

I took a long, lingering shower, called the front desk to get a wakeup call at ten that evening and sprawled out, still naked, on the bed. I was asleep within minutes.

When the wakeup call came, it took me a few seconds to realize where I was. I quickly recovered from that and turned on the bedside light. I laid back and felt sleep begin to overtake me. I realized just in time what was happening and quickly jumped up. I thought about what I was about to do and fear knotted up in my stomach. At the same time, my pussy was wetter than it had ever been.

I happened to remember, and called my parents to tell them that I would be spending the weekend with a friend at their summer cabin. They wanted to know the number, but I told them that there was no phone and I would call them on Monday when I got home.

I dressed very carefully. I chose white nylon panties and a white cotton bra. Over that I wore a see-threw white blouse and a mid-length black skirt. Saddle shoes and bobby socks completed the arrangement.

I sat down before the mirror, applied a base coat and just a slight amount of rouge. I chose a bright red lipstick which I applied liberally. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, dropped the motel key into the metal box, placed it in my purse, and walked out the door, locking it behind me.

I was almost shaking with fear as I placed the metal box behind the front bumper of my car. As I arose, I wasn't sure my legs were going to hold me up. I stood there for a few moments until I got hold of myself and then walked down the sidewalk resolutely toward the area I had examined previously.

About half-way there I spotted a small diner. I went in and ordered a hamburger, fries, and a Coke. I noticed that some of the men in the place were looking at me strangely, but I chose to ignore them. I completed the hamburger and fries. I lingered over the Coke for a long time wondering if I had the courage to face what I wanted to do. I knew it was dangerous and I wondered idly if I would come back alive to eat here again. I almost felt like a condemned man eating his last meal. I realized that I was putting off the inevitable and finally arose and walked out the door. I walked determinedly toward my goal.

It was a warm, pleasant night, but I hardly noticed. There was one lone street light in the last three blocks, the others having been long ago shot out. Ahead of me, the red neon sign blurted out "SAM'S BAR". I managed to reach it without incident. I stood outside it trying to summon my courage. Outwardly, I may have appeared calm, but I was shaking all over inside. Finally, taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and walked in.

Inside, it was fairly dark except for a light over a table in the far left hand corner. I saw that there were three black men sitting around it playing cards. At a table in front of them, a pretty black lady was sitting quietly drinking a beer. To my right was a long bar with an older white man standing behind it. He looked to be about fifty and had a huge pot belly. Looking around, I didn't see anybody else.

I took a deep breath. It smelled like piss, stale beer, and sweat. I kind of nauseated me. The crotch of my panties was so wet that I was almost afraid I had peed myself. I walked to the third stool in and hopped up on it. The bartender approached. "What can I do for you?"

I jumped as his deep voice penetrated the silence. "Give me a draft beer," I said shakily.

He looked at me critically. "How old are you, girl?"

"Twenty-one," I lied.

"Can I see some identification."

"I don't have any," I said truthfully. I had left my driver's license and anything else that might identify me back at the motel.

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to leave. I could lose my license."

I felt an arm and a hand come around my shoulder. "Now, Pete, if the lady says she's twenty-one, she's twenty-one." I looked up to see who had spoken. It was one of the black men from the table in the back.

I looked back to the bartender. "Whatever you say, Tom," he said pushing a glass of beer in front of me. There was sweat running down his face and he looked really scared. But that was okay because so was I.

Tom picked up my beer with his left hand and twirled me around and off of the bar stool, his right hand still being around my shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Linda. I bet the two of you have a lot in common."

"Wait," I mumbled. "I have to pay for my drink." I tried to turn back, but he held me firm steering me toward the table where the young black girl was sitting.

"Tonight's ladies night and all drinks for pretty ladies are free," he said. Over his shoulder he said, "Isn't that right, Pete."

"Whatever you say, Tom." I almost felt sorry for him.

We reached the table where the girl was sitting. "Linda," Tom started. "I'd like you to meet..." He looked at me blankly. "Just what is you name anyway?"

"Lisa," I said timidly.

He sat me down in the chair beside Linda rather forcefully. "Anyway, Lisa's decided to join our little party tonight," he said and returned to the table and his game.

Once it got quiet again, Linda said quietly, "I'm really glad you're here. When I have take all three of these guys by myself, I'm so sore it's unbelievable. If it were only one time a piece it wouldn't be so bad, but these fuckers go on and on. Tom always fucks at least five times before he's done. George is good for at least three or four and Eric is at least two. You're going to have one sore pussy by the time the night's over, but with the two of us it won't be so bad."

As I sat listening, my mouth dropped open. "You mean ... they're going to ... force us," I asked timidly.

"If they have to. I've learned its better if you just go with the flow and let them do whatever they want."

Now I was terrified. I stood up. "I've got to go," I said excitedly. I turned to walk toward the door. I hadn't taken three steps when Tom was on me. He literally picked me up from behind pinning my arms to my sides. I struggled as hard as I could, but he was so much bigger than me that it was futile.

He looked over to the bartender. "Close up and get lost, Pete. We're going to start early tonight."

I heard blinds being drawn as I was carried over to the table where the other men were waiting. I was thrown unceremoniously on the table as small lights came on throughout the bar. As I heard the front door close and latch, large black hands were pawing at my tits.

I struggled like a wild cat. I was jerking and wiggling and begging. Oh how I was begging.

"NO ... PLEASE NO ... DON'T ... OH GOD ... PLEASE ... DON'T"

George was standing beside me mauling my tits. Chico was holding my left ankle and Tom had a hold of my right, spreading me wide. I knew that my skirt had ridden up almost to my waist and that they were looking right at the crotch of my little white panties. I was embarrassed, not so much from the fact that they could see my panties, but because they could also see the wet spot there from where my juices were flowing so rapidly. I rolled a little to my left and punched George in the face as hard as I could.

"You little bitch," he snarled. He hit me on the side of the face hard enough that I was sure he had loosened some teeth.

"Grab her hands and hold her," Tom yelled. I tried to keep my arms and hands free, but in the end he had them pulling them above my head.

In the tussle for my hands, Chico had loosened his grip on my left ankle. I pulled free and kicked in the chest, knocking him back. I rolled to my right and brought my left foot as hard as I could against Tom's face. He flinched, but didn't let go. I could see blood running down his right cheek where my buckle had caught him. Chico was back, grabbed my left ankle again and I was right back where I had started from. I lay there gasping for breath and sobbing softly.

"Linda," Tom barked. "Get your black ass over here and hold her hands. And if you let go, I'll cut your tits off." I felt Georges had hands being replace by Linda's softer ones.

"I told you it would be easier if you just cooperated," Linda said quietly.

George was standing at my right now. He gripped the top of my blouse and pulled. I heard buttons popping as it pulled open. I heard the click as he opened his switchblade. "Oh God," I thought. "He's going to kill me." Instead he slipped the blade between the cups of my bra, cut it open. He closed the knife and slipped it back in his pocket. The cups were move away and my tits were naked for all to see. He grabbed them and twisted so hard that I thought he was going to twist them right off. I was screaming now.