Sin City
Copyright© 2009 by Audrey Haber
Chapter 14
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 14 - A tale about Page 3 lifestyles and relationships set in Bombay, India, in the late Nineties.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic NonConsensual Rape Blackmail Cheating Cuckold Rough Torture Interracial White Male Slow
Merlyn screamed again, even though she knew nobody would notice. The crowd was too frenzied, the music too loud, the lighting too psychedelic, the discotheque too full of dark spots where anything and everything could happen -- and did. The three young guys who had looked like such nice fellows at first sight were terrorizing her now with a menacing, gangbang routine that wasn't exciting anymore. They had laid her out on the couch and were leaning over her, toying with her, touching, mauling, licking her bare skin, exploring with knowing mascuine fingers.
"Come on, babe," said the one with the plain face and the gym-built physique. "Scream all you want, people will think it's part of the floorshow!"
He was straddling her, massaging her breasts rhythmically in time to the backbeat of La Vida Loca, his palms abrasing her involuntarily swollen nipples.
Merlyn tried to slap him. But he pinned her arms to the couch in a vise-like grip. Her dress had been ripped in a couple of places, and she was beginning to hyperventilate with panic.
They couldn't actually rape her here, could they? Right in the middle of a discotheque? Then again, maybe what he said was true -- people might think it was all part of the floorshow for the club's launch.
"You bastards," she yelled. "Let me go right now."
Mr GymBod grinned, enjoying her predicament, and was about to retort. She could feel his erection nudging her belly button through the fabric of his jeans. Then, suddenly, he was yanked off her torso and disappeared. Her arms freed, Merlyn sat up at once, and looked around. The guy holding her legs down also let go and vanished into the crowd. She blinked, trying to see what was going on in the now-dark, now-blinding white stroboscopic lighting.
She made out the three guys struggling with what looked like a pair of giants. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was seeing things. They were giants, huge, massively muscled men dressed in leotards. And they were making mincemeat out of the three miscreants who had mauled her.
"They're ex-WWF wrestlers," someone said calmly in her ear. "Twenty years past their prime but still tough enough to put the fear of God into drunken punks. I hired a dozen of them as bouncers for the place."
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