Chapter 36: Impulse II

Mark Littrell and Skip Young were two total degenerates. Living on the streets of the city, they were well known to local law enforcement. As the seasons changed, the two men, both in their fifties, black and homeless, traveled to different cities. After spending most of their life in prison, they were totally unprepared for living on the outside, as normal citizens. It just wasn’t going to happen. They still lived by prison rules. Their main occupation was food- where to get it; what not to eat. Second, and a close second it was, was their addiction to meth. When they weren’t high, they were stealing to get money to buy more meth. Then visit the restaurant dumpsters for half-eaten dinners.

Tonight, was like most other nights. The two sat on the ground next to a restaurant dumpster, not far from their shack in the woods. They’d just eaten some fairly decent Italian. Now they sat in the dumpster shadow shooting up some pretty strong meth, when suddenly a dream walked by.

Her name was Emmah Smith. She was walking home from her friend’s house. She’d stayed later than she had planned, and her mom had called up, angry and insisting she get home right this minute for dinner. Shoot, in trouble again! She decided to cut through behind the stores, a short-cut to her neighborhood. Emmah had turned 14 years old yesterday. Physically she was showing her puberty alright. Her boobs were just starting to show. Her areoles and nipples were bigger now; they stuck out way more than they used to. And sensitive! Still, she felt she was pretty flat-chested. Not like that Cindy Decker; what a set of boobs she had on her. Of course, she was six months older, too.

Emmah had long brown hair. She stood almost 5’ 4”, weighed 118 pounds. She may have had a smaller chest, but her butt, along with her hips, were as developed as an older teenager. Tonight, she had on her school skirt and blouse, sneakers and a jacket, having come to Nancy’s house straight from school. She walked quickly along, not paying any attention to her surroundings as she scanned her iPhone. Cutting through behind the restaurant was a shortcut to her street.

Mark and Skip didn’t hesitate. They both jumped up, moved to the edge and looked. It was a girl, a young girl, walking alone behind the stores. High on meth, Mark just let his urges control him. Skip of course did whatever Mark did. They both moved up behind her, being as quiet as they could. Mark suddenly lunged. She turned slightly, just as he slammed his fist into the side of her head. Quickly, he hit her twice more in her face as she fell down. Without hesitating, he grabbed her up. He picked her up under her arms. Skip reached down, grabbed her knees and lifted. Mark, without any sort of conscious thought, just went for the woods, Skip trying hard to stay close, following as usual. Through the woods they went, crashing through the bushes, the girl barely conscious. They came out on a path. The two men turned down the path, turned down another path later, then another. Soon they came to a shack, made from pieces of roofing and freight boxes laid against the wall, an old brick wall from a building now long gone. They climbed inside. Pulling the girl with them. Mark got on top of her, now muffling her screams. Skip quickly turned on an old gas lamp hanging from overhead. The shack, dirty and filthy, had some height to it; it was almost seven feet tall.

For the first time, the meth-fueled men got their first good look at their prize. She was young, plenty scared. She was still stunned, having been briefly knocked out by the hard punches. She was totally confused, wide, scared eyes darting everywhere. Small, cute face. Soft, long hair. Long legs that showed a lot of her sexy young girl thigh right now. Skip helped by holding her one leg tightly. Mark grabbed her face with both hands. She screamed, he slapped her, hard. He slapped her again, then a third time, very hard. She tried blocking him with her hands, but he was swinging with meth-fueled, prison-honed strength. He gripped her face again tightly with both hands, leaned down, angrily snarled at her through heavy breathing,

“Listen you! You keep quiet or I’ll beat the ever-living shit out of you! You understan’ me, white girl?!” He slapped her again, hard.

She tried to cover her face with her hands, crying, sobbing, “Please, stop, please. Just let me go...”

Mark grabbed the girl’s jacket, pulled it open and off of her as she struggled to hold onto it. He yelled at her to let go of it; Skip whacked her head from behind. Soon, the jacket was off. Mark went right to her blouse. He ripped it open; the five buttons flying all over. She had on some kind of t-shirt under it. As he and Skip tore the blouse from her, she struggled, kept pleading for them to stop. Soon though, the blouse was ripped from her too. Next, they grabbed her t-shirt, pulled it right off. She had hardly any titties at all; just some nipples starting to bloom out some. Just a little girl. Big fucking nipples though. They went right for her skirt next; tearing it, ripping it from her as she struggled to keep it. Next came her underwear and her sneakers. The young girl suddenly was laying there on the cardboard floor, naked, trying to cover herself and crawl away from them, crying, screaming, “No! No! No!” Mark wildly hit her a couple of times as he screamed back, “I said shut the fuck up, kid!”

Mark was really buzzing now. He saw this nude young thing in front of him; his dick as getting harder the more they stripped her. He drooled looking at her. Skip stared. The girl lay there on her side, curled up, covering herself, her back to them. Not for long, little girl. She knew what was coming, they knew she knew, and they loved it.

Mark said, “Yeah, girl, we gonna take turns on you. Pretty white girl like you. How old are you?”

“Twel, I mean, f, fourteen...” she stammered.

“Roll over girl. Lay on your back and spread those legs for me like a good girl now. Do it, girl, or I’m gonna start pitting you some more. Now get on with it. That’s it, that’s it. Put them arms down. Down by your side. Put them down, girl, by your side. Spread them legs, girl. Spread those fucking legs, white girl. Come on, show me that fucking little virgin pussy of yours. Spread ‘em, girl...” Emmah lay there; scared to death, not doing what he said. She knew these men wanted to rape her. She knew they probably would. She also knew she couldn’t stop them. She kept crying, asking for her mother, begging them to just let her go ... Then, the man leaned down and punched her hard in her side. Ouch! It made her whole side hurt; her lowest ribs throbbed. Oh man, it really, really hurt! A few moments later, she slowed started to eased her legs apart. They kept yelling at her; making her spread one leg far to the side; then spreading her other leg to the other side, wide. She lay there, staring to the side through tears, her legs now wide apart; her most private parts fully exposed to these terrible old black men. She was so freaked out she was hyperventilating, her hands trembled as she struggled to keep them by her side.