Geeta finished her shift at the massage parlor early that Saturday, leaving a 4:00 p.m. There was no problem getting permission, for she had long been the favourite of her employer, Mia. Even though she'd worked only six hours instead of the usual twelve, her forearms ached from the hard work of giving numerous handjobs. None of her customers that day had been regulars (whom she sometimes fucked, if they'd been to see her enough times - she gave regulars a blowjob every 5th visit and fucked them every tenth), nor had any of them been young and handsome enough for Geeta to be interested in doing anything more with them than jerk them off. So her hands had done all the work that day.

But her six hours had been profitable, thought Geeta, as she stopped by at the bank branch near the massage parlor where she worked in northern Toronto. Her customers had mostly been American businessmen staying at one of the airport hotels not too far away, and some of them tipped very well. So Geeta had with her $1,500, a nice addition to her bank account for a half shift. Her labours that day had earned her more than her parents combined had made that week, and of course Geeta would not be paying any tax. She didn't give a fuck about the CRA, as Revenue Canada now called itself. Once a month she transferred her earnings out of her account by way of a bank draft, through various numbered companies and into an account in the Caymans. One of her accountant clients had set this up for her, and since then, whenever he came to see Geeta, she gratefully got down on her knees, and after keeping him on edge forever, allowed him to cum in her mouth, swallowing every drop for him (she'd fuck him as well if he wanted, but usually he preferred to watch her mouth work on him). Now, even if CRA ever caught up with her, they could whistle for their money - they'd collect nothing from her. The accountant had set all this up the year before. By now Geeta could have started charging the man again, or told him to take a hike. But Geeta, unlike some of her kind, was very concerned for giving value for value received. Knowing that she could tell the government of Canada to go screw itself gave her great satisfaction.

Such were the thoughts on Geeta's mind as she walked towards the bank, looking through her purse for her bank card. Geeta was very wise in the ways of the world; she could not have been otherwise having worked in the sex trade since the age of fifteen. She'd dealt with criminals, rogue cops, every manner of pervert, narrowly escaped arrest on several occasions, and even more narrowly escaped conviction on the one occasion where she in fact was arrested. Geeta was perfectly capable of taking care of herself in a very rough environment, and as a result was quite self-confident. But on this particular afternoon, her confidence was somewhat misplaced. She was looking forward to a pleasant night out with some friends from school - her parents were actually allowing her to go out to a movie! She was leaving work early so she could get some rest and then get nicely dressed to enjoy a rare night on town.

Geeta's cheerfulness about how well her shift had gone (no weirdos, good money) and her nice evening to come caused her to be somewhat off-guard, and so she was taken completely surprise when a van pulled up beside her, the side door rolled open, and in an instant found herself bundled inside, a hand over her mouth and a knife at her throat. She lay perfectly still with terror as the door closed and the van sped off. There were only two men in the van. The one that had kidnapped her was a huge hulk of a man - easily six and a half feet tall and at least 250 pounds, all muscle. She couldn't see much of the driver, and then nothing at all as she was blindfolded. Then her hands were placed behind her and bound with duct tape ("that goddamn Red Green show", she thought), and another strip was put across her mouth. Then the man let go of her, allowing her to collapse onto the floor of the van. She wasn't hurt, but thought it best not to make any attempt to rise.

The big man must have opened her purse. "Holy jumpin' Carl will you look at this! Must be more than $1,000 in this whore's purse! Geeez, how many guys did she fuck to make this much?" he laughed. "Just how much is there?" asked Carl, laughing as he drove. The big man went through all the bills, counting them. Then he counted them again. "Well, there's like twenty-two fifties and 20 twenties - I'm pretty sure that's more than $1,000!" he said excitedly. Geeta rolled her eyes under the blindfold. She'd just been kidnapped by a dunce. "Charlie, you dumb shit," said the driver amiably. "Can't you count? That's $1,200, so just take twelve of the fifties - that's your share." The dunce counted out $600 for himself, passing up the rest to Carl, who although not exactly an Einstein, was considerably more intelligent than his buddy. The two of them had been friends since grade 9, which was their last year in school. They'd worked various odd jobs - as bouncers, security guards, doing oil changes at Mr. Lube - all low-paying garbage. They'd tried to enlist in the army, but of course they weren't accepted - the army wasn't too keen on those who lacked even a high school diploma and who had long criminal records. They could have of course enlisted in the U.S.Army with no problem at all, for the Americans needed men. But they weren't interested in that shit - might actually get killed.

It was Carl of course who came up with the idea of robbing girls who worked in massage parlors. The only chance he had of getting laid with any regularity was by paying a pro - he was a total loser, and knew it. And so when he had the money, he'd make his way to some massage parlor or the other, handing over his hard-earned cash, but rarely getting what he wanted in exchange. The girl would be older than advertised, or flat-chested, or she'd be sullen in demeanor and perfunctory in her efforts - always the same shit. And so Carl usually left feeling ripped off. It was natural enough for the idea to come to him to rob sex trade workers. He could earn some good money, and get some revenge for his perceived wrongs. It had taken him all of about 10 seconds to get Charlie's agreement, and that very day they went out in Carl's van, looking for their first victim. They'd staked out the massage parlor where Geeta worked - they frequented a strip joint across the street. Carl had been inside the massage parlor a couple of times. But it was too upscale for him, with the cover charge a bit high. He and Charlie had watched as Geeta left work.

They saw her head across the street, looking in her purse as she did so. Realizing she was probably going to the bank, Carl told Charlie to get out and follow her closely. His plan worked perfectly. Carl had pulled up in front of the bank just seconds after Geeta arrived, and as he rolled open the door, Charlie had her inside the car in no time. And now Carl was $900 richer for less than an hour's work. But now what to do with the girl? Carl hadn't thought this far ahead. They'd have to dump her somewhere, but that would have to wait until after dark - they couldn't risk being spotted. But they couldn't keep driving around, either. Suppose the police stopped them for some reason? Carl knew that whenever a cop was stopped at a light, he always checked out the plates of the cars around him on the police computer. Every year more than a few criminals were arrested as a result. Because he had a record, the cops would routinely pull him over if they found themselves stopped behind Carl in a line of traffic. And so it was just too risky to drive around town for a few hours with a kidnapped girl in the back of the van. "Charlie, we're going to head back to my place 'til dark." Charlie just nodded. Geeta continued to lie still on the floor, not even moving. In a few minutes they got to the house where Carl the loser lived with his parents. Mom and Dad were away for a few weeks on holiday, so no danger there. Charlie got out to open the garage door, and in no time Geeta was hustled into the disheveled basement apartment Carl called home.

And so Geeta, a drop-dead gorgeous teenage girl with the face of a Bollywood movie star and the body of a love goddess found herself alone with two healthy men in their twenties, with several hours to go until darkness. What followed was certainly no surprise to her. It took Carl and Charlie all of about a nanosecond to decide that they should make the best of their opportunity "to have some fun".

'Fun' consisted of repeatedly raping Geeta. They were too stupid to realize that it was unnecessary for them to be rough. Geeta had assumed from the moment she was kidnapped that she'd be raped. She'd decided right from the start that she was going to comply instantly with every single order she was given, no matter how degrading. When they'd ripped the tape off her mouth, she didn't even whimper, let alone scream, despite the pain. She'd undressed for them without any hesitation, putting up with their obscene, degrading comments about her body. But the men wanted to think she was resisting, and preferred to make threats, to slap and kick her, to treat her with every indignity their small minds could invent. In this they were so, so stupid. If they had simply fucked Geeta, the rape to her would have been of little importance - hardly more than a breach of contract for failing to pay for what they were getting. They were making a terrible mistake in humiliating a girl who was bold and completely intolerant of an insult.

It also didn't help that Charlie had the largest cock she'd ever seen. Geeta was an expert on cocks, of course, having seen quite literally thousands of them. Charlie's was without question a full ten inches when erect, the circumference so great that Geeta could not get her hand fully around it, and only could get it into her mouth with difficulty - she'd never had trouble giving a blowjob before. Fortunately Carl had taken her first, his normal six inch tool opening her and getting her somewhat lubricated, but still it had been agony to fuck Charlie, his massive organ opening her wider than she'd thought possible. "This must be what giving birth is like," she thought as the huge man began gradually to work his way into her entrance. After what seemed like an eternity, Charlie was in the teen beauty to the hilt. Geeta was not a small girl - 5'8" tall, in fact, but under Charlie she felt so tiny. She was positively impaled on his cock, her slim beautiful legs around his waist, helpless as the man began to fuck her with abandon. This was the first fuck she'd had without a rubber since her uncle had taken her virginity at age 14. Even Carl had used a rubber to rape Geeta, but when he gave one to Charlie to use, it had been too small for the huge man, ripping as he tried to get it on. Charlie let Geeta try to put another on him, but it just wasn't possible. Geeta at that point tried to satisfy him with a blowjob, but he slapped her across the face, saying if she thought she was going to get away with just a blowjob, she was sadly mistaken, and with that, had pinned her to the bed. And so here was Geeta, for the first time in her life subjected to a situation that was completely out of her control.

She tried to put her mind in some other place, waiting for the man to finish. But the fucking just went on and on and on, her beautiful 36-C breasts jiggling in time to Charlie's rhythm. Charlie was right on top of her, his face inches from hers as he rode her. At least he didn't have bad breath. When he kissed her, Geeta knew better than to turn her head, but somehow the kiss was just as much of an invasion as the having his cock in her - perhaps even more so. Charlie shoved his tongue in her mouth, and she wrapped her tongue around his, just as if he were a favourite customer. Geeta just wanted to survive. She hoped that if she showed no resentment, pretended that she hadn't been hurt, that she even had enjoyed the experience, that she might not die that day. Thoughts of revenge were put aside by Geeta as non-productive - she'd deal with that issue if she was alive when the men had done with her. Charlie broke off the kiss and raised himself onto his knees, saying to his friend, "I think this bitch likes what I'm giving her - don't you, bitch?" he asked. "Yes oh yes!" Geeta answered breathlessly. "Keep fucking me!" Charlie continued to do so from a kneeling position, feeding her his full length, withdrawing slowly until the huge head of his cock was almost out, and then watching as the teen's vaginal lips were spread wide apart to take him in yet again.

Carl moved over to the bed, and began sucking on Geeta's left nipple. Immediately he felt the nipple harden in his mouth - and so did Geeta. She was incredulous at the very idea of finding any pleasure at what was being done to her, but now as Carl moved to her other nipple while tweaking the first with his hand, she felt the familiar tide of lust rising within her. Her cunt lips began to swell and she could tell she was now lubricating, as Charlie's enormous penis was now moving in and out of her somewhat more easily. Carl began to kiss her passionately, Geeta's response now unfeigned as their tongues intertwined.

Suddenly she broke off. "I'm cumming oh god keep fucking me oh god oh oh oh... ! Geeta thrust her hips back at Charlie in time to his, humping hard against the huge pole inside her, which she now was able to accommodate almost easily, so stretched was she. It was Charlie's circumference, not his length, to which she was responding, for her vaginal lips were spread to the maximum, her clit very stimulated and protruding. The orgasm went on and on, and Charlie could feel the young girl's repeated vaginal contractions beneath him. He knew the girl was truly enjoying the fucking he was giving her. He slowed down and then stopped, willing himself not to cum. The girl was motionless beneath him - as sometimes happened to her when she had a particularly powerful orgasm, Geeta had fainted.