Chapter 5

Unable to get the fast and passionate sex we had out of my mind I ended up having a very realistic dream involving her. Waking up with a harder-than-usual erection I realized how amazed I was with her story and how much it titillated me. After beating the hardness out of my cock, I showered and got ready for the day, then went down to the lobby and had coffee and a continental breakfast.

The story she told me kept scorching my mind. I couldn’t get over the abuse that Joanie’s Sister Katie had suffered and wondered if it would get any worse. Going back to my room I decided to blow off the symposium for the day—and the next two—I was eager to put my thoughts in writing, to start working on my story for SOL before Joanie came back to the motel.

Just as I was finishing page five with “Seconds later the bell jangled as the door to The Chopper burst open. A tall skinny guy with a dark brown ponytail, his face covered with acne scars, came through the door. From behind a voice yelled, “Hey, Needle Dick, when are ya gonna get the timing fixed on your machine?” I was startled by a knock at the door. Looking at my watch I saw that it was 10:32. I had no idea who it could be. If it was Joanie she was way early.

As I stood in the doorway looking at her Joanie said, “Aren’t you going to invite me in Peter?” Thinking back to when she came into the bar I remembered hoping that I might be able to pick her up. As I often did when I went on these trips I had the fantasy of picking up a woman or being picked up by one, which I had only done twice before in thirty-yeas. Neither one of those was very exciting. Joanie had been so distant when she came into the bar last night that she seemed unapproachable. But the bartender gave me a heads-up about her. Who knows, he could have been looking out for both of us.

As she came into the room she asked, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” I felt a bit awkward meeting like this at my motel when I was supposed to be going to the symposium but after having had such passionate sex the night before I don’t know why I needed confirmation. But she was still new to me. Our first kiss was hesitant then hungry, open-mouthed, tongue-filling smacker which led us to a breathless, panting, dry hump.

“Jesus Peter,” she said, “You got me so horny last night that I went home and attacked my husband in his sleep. He must have found religion; it’s just not like him to fuck for such a long time. This morning, before he left for his road trip (he was a long-distance trucker) we did it again.”

I was trembling when I laughed and said, “Who would have thought I would be therapy, Joanie? I should have charged a fee.”

Her face went pink as she answered, “I’ve charged for it more than once myself since that trip to Texas Peter. Remind me to tell you about some of THOSE times.” When I gave her a quizzical look as if I understood what she was talking about she said, “What Katie and I went through back then changed a lot of things ... caused both of us to venture out in ways we would have never thought possible.”

Being as truthful as I could I confided, “When you came into the bar Joanie I had hoped for a one-nighter. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. You looked too pissed off. Now you’re back. This is just a little more than I expected.”

“Funny thing Peter, when you said “Hi” to me at Rocky’s I was pissed off that you were just another guy hoping to get into my pants. I was so pissed off at my husband though; I knew you and I were going to fuck ... but not the way we did. For me, it was just to get back at the son-of-a-bitch. But when you told me that you wrote erotic stories it just lit me up. I have so many of them to tell.”

“Before last night I hadn’t thought about Texas for months. Every time I do though it makes me want to climb the wall. Telling you about it turned me on like a faucet. Right now, I’m so fucking wet I could wash the windows with my panties.” Grabbing my hand she put it under her flaring skirt, forcing it up between her legs. When I felt how soaked she was my cock filled like an airbag deploying in a car crash.

There were no preambles; instant gratification was the only thing on our minds. We didn’t even use the bed. I zipped down, pulled out my swollen Schwanz, and pulled her saturated panties aside. Between Joanie on her tiptoes and me crouching she was so ready that I was inside her pussy like it was pudding. With her legs wrapped around my waist, we slammed against the wall until we both came. Panting like two spent thoroughbreds we hugged, both saying something like, “Holy SHIT.”

As we came to our senses we helped each other undress, walked hand-in-hand like star-struck teenagers, and climbed under the covers. “You must think I’m some kind of slut Peter.”

Wondering if she might say that to every guy she picked up I answered, “You’re some kind of something Joanie, but slut isn’t what’s on my mind at the moment.”

“What is?” she challenged me.

“What I don’t understand Joanie is how any woman could be gang-raped like you and your sister were, abused and beaten up the way she was, and still think sex is exciting.”

She thought for a few moments then answered, “I’ve talked with several women who have been raped, Peter. Some have been turned off by sex as a result. In some, after the initial shock wore off, it intensified sex for them. And some, like me, have gone wild as a result. It’s hard to explain. Up to the point in my story where I left off last night, Katie had the worst part of it. She was yet to have sessions that would surprise you. Though she hasn’t gone as wild for sex as I have, she’s not far behind.

Something happened during those four days Peter that changed our lives forever; it changed the Wreckers too. I don’t know if it was because of Katie and Me, or if points were just intersecting where all of the characters in the story came together ... predestined to have some kind of long-lasting effect on one another. One thing’s for sure though, the Cavanaugh sisters (Joanie and Katie’s maiden names) had a far greater effect on The Wreckers than they could have ever imagined.”

“You make it sound like you and your sister brought religion to the Junkyard.”

“Religion had nothing to do with it. I still can’t believe that we were a part of it. But you’re right; it was like them getting religion.”

It was a much longer story than I had anticipated but Joanie was telling it like an author, word by word, plucking every feeling and emotion out of it. As she recounted the story of two women whose innocence had been violated by a Texas motorcycle club it was riveting. So far it was drugged sex by the gang leader on Joanie that turned into acceptance. She was hoping for more from Bull but discovered that her sister had gone through a different ordeal.

“I was let down,” Joanie said. “After Bull made love to me for more than two hours he dismissed me like a servant. Having gone from being scared shitless to a state of adoration I was jerked back into reality. Bull simply used me and cast me aside.”

Continuing the story, she went on:

“Stunned when Bull dismissed me like a whore I went through the door into the hall. As I walked toward the door at the end I saw a sliver of light coming through the crack at the bottom. The dread I felt when I realized that Katie and I had been taken prisoner returned. Wondering what I would find behind that door ahead, I feared finding my sister being ravished by one of the Wreckers, or a number of them. As I opened the door the strong smell of both fresh and stale alcohol permeated my senses. The light was dark in the stairwell but got brighter as I climbed the stairs. Halfway up the staircase, I recognized another smell, becoming stronger as I got closer to the top. There was no mistaking that the musky aroma was a mixture of sweat and sex. MY GOD, I thought, imagining what might have gone on, how can the smell be this STRONG?

At the top of the stairs, I found myself in the attic, a large room that ran the length of the house. It was only high enough for a tall person to walk where the roof came to a peak. The room was lighted by two overhead fluorescent lights. Cots lined each side of the attic, six on a side. The sound of multiple snoring filled my ears. Scanning the length of the room I saw what were sleeping bodies, mostly clothed. One was completely naked. He was spread-eagled on his cot, his mouth gaping, sucking air, and snoring. I could see that his cock was limp, and his balls hung loose. Looking down each line of cots I saw that the one on the end, on the right, held the naked body of my sister. My original fears were realized, she was curled in a tight fetal position. Next to hers was an empty cot.

As the strong smell of sex filled my nostrils the images of what might have occurred filled my brain. The reality of my original fears astounded me; Katie had been raped and had been used as a seminal sewer, a “cumdump” as I had heard in vulgar terms. As quietly as I could I made my way down the aisle between the cots, stopping momentarily and replacing my foot when a floorboard squeaked. I didn’t want to take the chance of waking anyone, starting the process over again, with me as the object of lust for the ten Wreckers who appeared sleeping on their cots.

Horrified at the condition of my naked sister whose dark blond hair looked as if it had been done in the beauty salon from Hell. It was as though someone had squirted it with too much mousse and left it uncombed. Scanning Katie’s body, I could see what looked like matte, chalky patches that must have been dried semen. As my mind conjured the maniacal scene I scanned the occupied cots and murmured, “You SONS-A-BITCHES.” The strange and frightening thing was that as I imagined the filthy scene that must have gone on I began getting wet again. Disgusted by the titillation that such a ghastly event was causing I silently asked myself, “What kind of a sick bitch AM I?

I wanted to kneel and caress Katie but was afraid of disturbing her sleep. I realized that, while Bull had been making love to me, the violation of my sister had taken place. Sitting on the edge of her bed I took her face in my hands and sobbed. After my tears stopped I was quietly blowing my nose when out of the corner of my eye I caught movement at the other end of the room. Squinting, I saw one of the naked Wreckers getting out of his cot and walking toward me. I understood immediately why the other Wreckers had referred to him as “Needle Dick.” His six-inch cock was fully erect, but it looked like a thin cigar protruding from his loins. Fearing his intentions for me made my stomach drop.

With a nasty sneer, he said, “Well, well Joanie-J, look who’s here.”

I was terrified that his loud voice would wake the others and have them lined up to do the same to me that they did to my sister.

“Lay back, Cunt,” he commanded with a sneer, “and open your legs.” It was as if he were a drill sergeant in an army barracks, expecting the recruit to toe the line.

Recognizing that he was the one at The Chopper who was nice to me at first I was shaken by the cruel way he was acting now. Crossing my arms over my breasts I tightly squeezed my legs together. At the same time, I sensed that my sister was moving on her cot.

“DO IT, SIS,” came Katie’s urgent, ragged whisper. As she raised her head I gasped. Her right eye was red and puffy in the process of becoming a shiner. “He’ll HURT you,” she rasped, unable to keep her head up.

Shock jolted my entire presence. I wanted to tend to my hurting sister who gazed at me so pathetically. At the same time, I didn’t want to create any noise that might wake others of the rapists. Going for the least possible damage I lay back on the empty cot and spread my legs proactively trying to appeal to Needle Dick’s lust.

The skinny, weasel-looking guy with the pencil dick grabbed my ankles and spread them further. I assumed that he knew Bull had been there before him. My vagina was so slippery that made preparation unnecessary. Directing his dick to my pussy he made one thrust and was inside me with ease. “Your sister was tighter,” he jibed with a grunting laugh. He could have been Beavis talking to Butthead.

As disgusting as Needle Dick was I was astonished that, even though his cock was so skinny it stimulated my vagina in such a sexually desirous way that I found unimaginable. When he said that my sister was tighter though it was like a pride reflex that made me clamp my muscles so tight that he felt twice his size. No way can he be making me feel this way, I thought in disgust—and—how can I be trying to make it BETTER for him?

My mind was telling me how much I hated what was happening while my body reacted as if it were wonderful. Resenting the fact that his copulating action brought me to the verge of orgasm I thought, It’s the shock of it all. Biting my lip, I tried to resist but couldn’t. My teeth punctured it and drew blood, but I was satisfied that I hadn’t given Needle Dick the pleasure of hearing me cum. After grunting his orgasm, he pulled his waggling semen-slathered cock out, sneered, and said, “you fucking SLUT,” before moseying to the end of the room and falling on his cot.

My eyes caught Katie’s. It made me ache to see tears spilling out of her puffy eye and hear her soft sniffles. But she put her finger to her lips again to keep me from saying anything. Whatever is in store for me, I thought, I’ll just have to endure it.

As I forced fearful thoughts to stop I remembered that, when I was unconscious Bull had carried me to his room. Then after all the glorious sex, he had given me, he exiled me to THIS. I wondered if what happened to my sister would happen to me now that she was here. Or, if there was more to come for both of us. At the same time, I thought in ghastly dread, Will THEY do the same thing to me as part of their fucking initiation of me? Even in the grim circumstances of my situation though, I laughed inwardly at the pun, “fucking initiation.”

I had no way of knowing what had gone on with Katie, but I later found out:

Riff (Bull’s second in command) and Concho carried Katie’s limp body into the front room and laid her on one of the badly stained maroon leather couches. Their seniority gave them first dibs when any new cooze that “happened” into The Chopper. After stripping her clothes, they unzipped their Levi’s and pulled out their stiff dicks. Maneuvering Katie’s limp body so he could get better access to her pussy Riff straightened her out along the couch and pulled on her right leg, spreadeagling her. Not caring that he would abrade her unlubricated vagina he positioned his glans at the opening of her quim and jammed himself inside, feeling it chafe his cock as it sunk to his balls. She was out cold so he knew she wouldn’t realize any soreness ‘til later figuring it serves the bitch right for going into places she shouldn’t. Having done the same thing so many times to other of the captured “Tits and Clits”—those women who had been brought to “the Junkyard” against their wills, he made a couple of faux pumps, knowing that any kind of stimulation—welcomed or not—would cause her pussy to lubricate. Ain’t a pussy a marvelous thing?

As he pulled back he could feel her juice surrounding his bulk, allowing his muscled meat to slide more easily through it, he was continually amazed that someone who had been drugged could be stimulated in this way. Another benefit of this kind of abusive penetration was that the woman’s pussy, in a reflexive reaction, always tightened around his stiff tool.

At the moment he was only interested in fucking long enough to come, which he did in fewer than ten pumps. Pulling out he ogled her cunt until his white load seeped out, adding to the stains on the leather surface that had been used to rape so many other unfortunate women. Those sluts who had given of themselves on a free-will basis were a different matter, they were compliant seminal cisterns that added to the “hash marks on the couch.

Concho was next. Sliding in he pumped with abandon while Cauliflower (because of his cauliflower ear) and Curveball (his cock curving sharply to the right due to Peyronie’s Disease), laughed and snorted as they masturbated and came on Katie’s face and hair. Concho, having coated his still hard cock with Riff’s cum in Katie’s pussy, decided to go anal.

With Cauliflower’s help, Riff and Concho rolled Katie’s limp body over so she was in a quasi-kneeling position. With her head and shoulders on the couch Concho squatted behind her and opened her cheeks, spreading her legs and pushing his slippery head against her anus until it opened with reluctant ease. As he rolled on his back with Katie’s impaled body on top the grinning Riff stepped between his open legs.

As Concho hooked his feet between Katie’s ankles and spread both of their legs Riff, squatting, pushed his cock inside Katie’s pussy until his balls mashed against Concho’s. Through Katie’s anal/vaginal wall each could feel the movement of the other’s bulk in the canal on the other side. “That feels good-oo-good,” Concho said as Riff’s cock massaged his through Katie’s brutalized wall.

When Riff came he pulled out of Katie’s slurpy pussy and was replaced by Cauliflower. His cock was larger than Riff’s which pleased Concho even more. “Damn, if it weren’t for the fact that this cunt is getting too heavy, I could let you guys do this all day.” When Cauliflower came he pulled out and helped Concho roll her on her stomach again so he could fuck Katie’s ass and come inside her—practiced molestation done militarily.

While all this was going on Sidecar (his bike had one attached) positioned himself on the couch next to them and forced his rigid penis inside Katie’s slack jaw, triggering a gag reaction. As her eyes fluttered open her foggy mind realized what was happening and her eyes grew to the size of manhole covers. She struggled and let out a cock-muffled shriek. When Side Car pulled almost out of Katie’s mouth she tried to bite it. But she was so weak that her effort only stimulated him to ejaculate three in her mouth.

With two other dicks still inside her the gagging and writhing Katie recalled her fears when the gang had stormed into The Chopper. The ride on the bike behind Concho had been stimulating but she feared something bad was going to happen. When she and Joanie met Bull, his welcoming hospitality allayed her fears But now, with the nasty taste of cum in her mouth, sandwiched between two of the Wreckers with their dicks in her agitated pussy and hurting ass, she was frantic about how hopelessly she was trapped. Sandwiched between Riff’s and Concho’s bodies she took in the sight of three more Wreckers, all with their cocks out, wet, red, and shrinking. As she tried to imagine which one came in her mouth she sensed the discomfort of drying semen on her body and wondered if they all had been in her mouth or her pussy, or her ass. And which one—or ones—jacked off on me? This is so DISGUSTING.