Chapter 8

Béla woke early on Saturday morning, even though she and Jake had only been home (Home? His apartment, actually) a few hours. For a few seconds, she wondered who Frank might be keeping in the big wooden bed he'd built for her in the little apartment over the bar. There were always weekend attractions performing at the Target Club and each one, as she arrived, would expect a place to sleep while she was in town. Frank was not above bedding the hired help in her bed, which was where he slept, whenever she spent the weekend away from the bar, although there was another bedroom available on the second floor for the strippers.

As she realized that her apartment above her bar was a place she no longer considered 'home', Béla realized she'd already 'moved on', and wondered if Frank realized that, too. He probably did, she decided, though it didn't make any difference, really, one way or the other. Giving Frank the bar, however, might solve the problem of his following her the next time she blew away. That had worked with Joseph and the gun store; it might work with Frank. He'd be too busy keeping her investment alive and out of the red, moneywise, to hunt her down, again.

But she knew she was going to miss that bar and all that wonderful, brutal fucking she got every week. For the past few years, ever since she was inspired to create a real, live Fuck Club, that was the only way she could satisfy her desires and her desperate need to be brutalized. But now that she had Jake, she didn't need the mass fucking anymore. The only thing she might miss about the club was the massive amount of wonderful, revitalizing sperm all those men donated in their savage, rapacious worship of her cunt, ass, tits and mouth.

She smiled as she remembered all those men from last night, then frowned as she remembered Jake and what he'd done to her. Jake had come in after her private little orgy and approached her as she lay on her back in the Target Room, her eyes closed, her cum-coated belly stretched out as her head and legs dangled off the sides of her 'sacrificial' table availing either pussy or mouth to whomever should walk through that door.

She hadn't been totally certain he would come to her after her Friday night show and resulting gangbang. Jake had come home wearing the chlorine smell and the fuck-scent of that lonely housewife earlier that evening, not even having bothered to wash it off before he arrived. It was almost as though he was flaunting his sexual prowess at Béla, which seemed strange, because she was the one who fucked every man she could, singly or in groups.

She hadn't been sure because her own senses were overwhelmed by her own wild, well-fucked smell as well as the amount of cum spattered all over and inside her body, but it seemed that Jake had showered before seeking her out after the Target Club men were finished with her.

He had made her stay in that uncomfortable, stretched out position while he proceeded to coldly fuck her in every orifice – pounding into her upside-down mouth first and spewing his cum deep into her throat before walking around the table and assaulting her pussy and ass, without saying a single word to her the whole time, while his cum ran out her mouth and nose into her eyes.

Afterward, he had lovingly picked her up and carried her out, right through the still-open bar – naked and covered with cum (some of it his, now) to his pickup, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. Frank watched, somewhat concerned, with one eyebrow raised in question. Jake just gave him a half-smirk, then continued out the door. Béla's well-being was his concern now, not Frank's.

Béla let out a yelp of surprise when Jake heaved her right over the side and into the bed of the pickup, then grunted as she landed softly on the old mattress he'd evidently put there so that she wouldn't be hurt when he threw her in. This was obviously a well-planned abduction.

Driving her to an old vacant lot where there were no streetlights, Jake parked the truck and climbed into the pickup bed to find her sitting up and shivering in the cool, night air, still naked, though she'd rubbed most of the cum on her exposed skin into her body, mostly in defense against the chill wind as it whipped around her during their little trip to the edge of town. Now, at least, she was mostly dry, though she still stank of cum and pussy juice.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice cracking with the need to swallow something thinner and more refreshing than cum.

Jake handed her a half empty bottle of Tequila after taking a large swallow, himself.

"I can't drink this," Béla complained after tasting it. "It'll make me sick." Jake noticed that she'd swallowed what she'd had in her mouth, though.

Jake took the bottle from her and toked another long swallow, then handed it back to her. "One more swig, and you'll be just sick enough..." he leered at her.

'Jake is drunk!' Béla realized, holding the bottle with a limp grip and wondering where the first half of the bottle had gone.

"Drink!" Jake growled, grabbing her hair with one hand and the bottle with the other. Pulling her head back with a savage snarl, he dumped the contents of the bottle into her mouth, baring his teeth in a vicious leer.

Béla choked and spat, but Jake managed to get some Tequila down her unwilling, gasping throat before throwing her back against the rear window of the pickup. He threw the empty, dripping bottle as far as he could, staring into the darkness until he heard it crash against the concrete before turning his attention back to the object of his rage.

Béla shrieked and cowered as Jake backhanded her across her face. She wailed as he pulled her to her feet, then threw her down to land with her back on the old mattress. She bounced once, nearly crashing into the tailgate before Jake was on top of her, forcing her down with her head between his knees, his bony legs painfully pressing her shoulders down against the mattress.

He opened his fly and forced his hard cock into her mouth. At that angle, he had to hold up her head, using her hair, again. His cock grated against the top of her mouth and Jake snarled in frustration. Standing upright, he pulled Béla into a sitting position, shoving her bare back against the tailgate, and shoved his cock back into her mouth. He fucked her for a few strokes before Béla realized his cock was actually going down. It was deflating.

'He's not going to be able to cum, ' she realized. 'He's too drunk.'

Instead of biting his cock completely off, Béla began sucking on him, trying to keep him hard. If he came, he'd feel better, and maybe he'd stop hitting her. She was surprised that she didn't feel even a little angry at him for his hateful treatment of her, even when he'd forced her to drink that vile poison that was, even now, roiling in her stomach and threatening to come back up. She forced it back down, knowing that if the contents of her stomach should touch Jake's cock, he would be badly burned. Even her own mouth and lips weren't immune to that much acidity, but her burns always healed within moments whenever she vomited.

She continued to avidly suck on Jake's cock, his hands painfully gripping the sides of her head as he fucked her face. Then Béla choked as Jake began pissing down her throat. She lost some hair to Jake's cruel grip as she yanked herself off of Jake's cock and turned to vomit over the tailgate of the pickup.

After another moment, her retching and gagging diminished, and Béla turned around, weak and subdued, and sank into a corner of the truck bed. After another moment, she raised her head to stare up at Jake, tears beginning to stream down her face and over what was left of her blistered lips after heaving all the acid from her central core over the back of the pickup. She couldn't talk; her tongue was too burned.

Jake stared down at her and tears began streaming down his face, as well. He dropped to his knees in front of her and began to cry.

"I'm sorry ... I'm show sorry..." he whimpered as he stared at what he'd done to her. "I..."

Béla shook her head, trying to get him to stop talking. Then she reached out and took his hand, opening her mind as much as she could. The images swirling through Jake's drunken mind were old and full of rage and pain and sorrow. His mind was full of his father and the smell of beer and heavy fists raining down on him, pissing down on him, making him wallow on a dirty linoleum floor slick with the smell and the hot, wet feel of urine.

Then there was a woman yelling at him. Jake's mind supplied a name; Trishia. Evidently Jake had tried to break up with her this very afternoon, and she'd gone after him with teeth and nails. Her next door neighbor, who'd also been banging her, arrived and rescued her from the supposed intruder, not realizing that Jake had been invited in every month for the last year or so.

There was a man yelling at him, threatening him with arrest, then ordering him out of the office. She could see the power company logo on the side of the building when Jake turned around to look at his previous place of employment one last time. She could see Jake drinking in a bar downtown. He kept staring at his bandaged arm.