Chapter 16

Reggie and her father were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. They looked up when we came in. Reggie looks like she's already irritated. She snarled, "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

What can I say? Does she think we're anxious for the day of sexual sadism she undoubtedly has planned for us to begin?

We went into the kitchen and she inspected our outfits. I expected her to make us change into one of the outfits she bought for me to wear but she didn't say anything. Marsha is wearing a simple sundress similar to the one I have on. Reggie didn't even ask us if we're wearing underwear!

Reggie picked up a piece of paper on the table and said, "Dad and I watched the first DVD last night and came up with a couple of questions. Brenda, of all the cocks you fucked that first day, which of them was uncircumcised?"

I thought it must be a trick question. I've seen a few uncircumcised cocks since that day. But I became all too familiar with those three cocks that day and far too often since. All three of them have been circumcised.

Ignoring the fact that I didn't fuck them, they raped me, I was just about to answer that all of them are when I realized what the correct answer is. I blushed at having to have this little quiz in front of her father. But I have no secrets from him. I answered, "Barney."

I saw the disappointment on her face when I got it right. I can't help feeling just a tingle of smug satisfaction. I don't get many opportunities to disappoint her.

But then I started to worry about Marsha. She wasn't here that day. She didn't see everything that happened and the events haven't been seared into her memory the way they were mine.

Reggie turned her attention to Marsha and read from the sheet of paper. "What color and what style underwear was Rosey wearing?"

I'm almost positive that there's no way she could know the answer to that. I can picture him in my mind, rapidly shucking his jeans and his underwear down all at once. I was right there and I didn't see his underwear! I know it wasn't on the DVD.

I saw the panic on Marsha's face. I know she doesn't have an answer. There's no way she could.

Reggie's face lit up when she thought she was going to get to punish Marsha. But seconds later Marsha suddenly cried out, "White jockeys!"

I'm sure it was just a guess. It's a logical guess. That seems to be what most boys wear. Most of the boys I've seen undressing since so many of them began raping me were wearing them.

That was apparently the right answer. I saw Reggie's excitement fade. It's silly, of course. This whole stupid game is silly. She can make us do any damn thing she wants anyway. Game or no game she can punish us at will.

Reggie dropped the paper and shrugged. She turned to her dad and said, "I guess the dumb cunts watched the DVD. I bet they didn't enjoy it as much as we did, though."

Then she asked him which of us he wants. He grinned and answered, "I haven't fucked the one with tits yet. I think I'll take her for a little ride."

That's some conversation between a father and daughter!

Mr. Kunkle got up and with a nod of his head he led Marsha out of the room and down the hall to his bedroom. As soon as he was out of the room, Reggie stood up and pulled her shorts down. She sat back down and said, "You better get me off before he comes back out. If I have to stop and pull my shorts up before I cum I'm going to be very, very mad."

For a change, Marsha has been given the worst assignment. I feel bad for her. I hope Reggie's father doesn't hurt her too much. He has a very large cock and like most of the males to whom we've been forced to submit on orders from Reggie he likes his fucking rough.

But although she has my sympathy, my immediate concern is not Marsha's well being. I need to satisfy Reggie, quickly. She turned her chair to the side and I dropped to my knees between her legs. It turned out to be surprisingly easy. Almost as soon as I started we began to hear cries of pain from the bedroom. It was music to Reggie's ears.

I glanced up and saw the cruel smile on her face when she heard Marsha crying out. I knew she was immensely turned on by imagining her father brutally raping another poor young girl with that oversized cock of his.

I managed to bring Reggie to two orgasms before there was a knock at the front door. Reggie sent me to answer it while she stood up and pulled her shorts and underwear back up to cover her incredibly hairy pussy.

I looked back to make certain Reggie is decent and opened the door to admit Tara and Steph. I closed the door and followed them back into the kitchen like a good little slave girl. Tara seemed upset when she heard the sounds of Marsha's pain still emanating from Mr. Kunkle's bedroom and learned Marsha is in there being raped by her crush. It's obvious she's jealous. I can't believe I'm the only one who has noticed.

After they exchanged greetings, Reggie brought my mind back to the sickening acts in my own immediate future when she asked Tara, "Are they going to be ready?"

Tara smiled and nodded.

Marsha's cries of pain are still echoing throughout the house from down the hall. Tara seems pleased by the sound. I'm pretty sure that in her twisted mind she somehow blames Marsha for what's going on in that back bedroom. She's no doubt thinking that if Marsha's going to mess with her secret boyfriend she wants her to suffer for it.

It seemed like forever before Marsha finally stopped crying out in pain. It was probably another ten minutes before Reggie's dad came swaggering out with a satisfied smirk on his face. Tara's face softened as soon as she saw him. Creepy!

I wonder if I should say something to Reggie. It wouldn't be fair if Tara started punishing Marsha because she's jealous. But then, what about this situation is fair? Nothing.

Marsha came out a few minutes later. I can't help feeling really bad for her. We have a long, hard day ahead of us and she's bruised and sore already.

I thought we were waiting for Tank to take us to the farm. But as soon as Marsha came limping out to join us everyone gathered up their belongings, including the cameras and the cattle prod, and we went out to get in Mr. Kunkle's car. Reggie's father is driving us out there!

Despite the huge, white hot knot of fear in my stomach I almost smiled when I saw Tara scramble to sit beside him. She blushed but I watched her face light up. Even from the back seat I'm able to see what she's doing with her hand.

And then I saw Mr. Kunkle's face in the mirror. He does know! He's obviously aware of the crush she has on him. I would have thought he'd be amused. I know he likes fucking young girls. He's proved that on several occasions. But he looks as though he's scared of Tara!

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing!

Tara spent a lot of time whispering in his ear on the half hour drive out to the farm. After a few minutes he seemed to give in to the inevitable. He rested his hand on her upper thigh and he seemed to relax.

They've already had sex with each other. I don't know why they seem to be acting so coy. But by the time we pulled up and parked near the barn where I sucked off the horse last weekend they seemed to have come to some sort of understanding about their relationship ... if it can be called that.

I guess Tara made it clear to him she doesn't want to marry him and have his baby. Whatever it was she whispered in his ear on the way out here he's obviously relieved. I know he doesn't have a problem with fucking her. I'm pretty sure he just doesn't want her to think it's anything but fucking, at least it's not as far as he's concerned.

Tara's cousin Donny came out of the barn to greet us. With him is a tall, skinny black man in his late thirties or early forties. Reggie asked Donny if everyone is here and he quietly exclaimed, "I sure as hell hope so!"

He seems to think the crowd in his barn is larger than he would like. I'm even more worried about that than he is. Donny isn't the one who's going to have to satisfy the lust of all those guys.

The black man introduced himself as Spivey. We learned that he's in charge of the professional camera crew provided my Marshal.

Reggie pointed Marsha and me out to him but he only glanced at us curiously before walking away with Reggie for a quick, quiet conversation.

All too soon Spivey went inside. Reggie directed the rest of the group to go in and find a place to sit. Then she turned to Marsha and me and said, "Wait two minutes. Then come into the barn."

I checked my watch as she turned and entered the dark barn. Marsha took my hand and said, "I'm so scared I'm afraid I'm going to wet myself."

I sighed. I wish I could have offered her some sort of reassurance. But the truth is, I'm just that scared myself and we have every right to be.

Two minutes passed in a second. We continued to hold hands as we entered the barn. We came to sudden stop just inside the door. There aren't any animals tied up anywhere waiting for our services. Well, not any four legged animals. But there are far more than fourteen young men waiting for us!

It looks like all of Donny's friends from last weekend are here. Mr. Curry and Mr. Perez are here. Tank, Ben and Rosey are here. So are most of the boys from the sophomore class and a shocking number of the girls.

Spivey was standing behind two surprisingly blasé looking black men holding large, professional looking movie cameras on their shoulders and apparently already filming. They have obviously recorded things like this before. There are more black men here and there around the room. One seems to be handling lighting and another is holding a long pole with a microphone on it. There are others at consoles tucked out of the way in empty stalls that won't appear on screen in the movie we're about to make. With all these men involved in recording it I'm certain this is going to be a very professional looking film when they're finished.

When she saw all the men and boys waiting to rape us Marsha gasped and exclaimed, "Oh my god! They are going to kill us!"

I can't help fearing she may be right.

We had just about enough time to catch our breath while they recorded the fear on our faces. Then, Tank and Rosey came over and pulled us into the center of the barn. Two sturdy, heavy looking padded benches are waiting for us in the middle of a well lit circle.

Tank ordered us to strip.

I think Marsha and I are both overwhelmed by the huge gathering. The near panic we're experiencing immobilized us for a moment. But off to the side I heard the dreaded sound of Reggie pulling the trigger on a cattle prod. That fearful sound shook us out of our stupor.

Marsha and I quickly removed our only garments. One of the girls from our class came close and held out her hand. Marsha and I both know her, though not well. I can't help wondering what her reaction is to all this. Our eyes met as I handed her my dress. The look of anticipation on her face is sickening. I was tempted to tell her that I hope Reggie takes her next. I didn't, though. I'm too scared to speak.

She continued to stand there after we handed her our dresses. When it became apparent to her that we don't understand what she's waiting for she sighed in exasperation, rolled her eyes and demanded, "Give me your sandals, you stupid cunts!"

A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd as we slipped our shoes off and handed them to her. I looked around the large barn and estimated that there are probably close to fifty men and boys lounging around on bales of hay, resting on the floor and leaning back against posts and walls or sitting on the railings of the empty stalls. In addition there are probably a dozen girls here from our class.

I'm not too worried about the girls. Or at least I don't anticipate having to have sex with them. I can't imagine any of them wanting to do anything like that. Not with us and certainly not with all these men and all their classmates watching. And most definitely not with two professional movie cameras recording it.

It isn't as though my life and Marsha's have not already destroyed. But the things that happen out here at this farm are the nastiest things that they've done to me. Almost the entire sophomore class is here to witness it firsthand today. Although I'm reasonably certain most of them will see the DVDs eventually, having them witness our debasement in person is much more devastating.

It no longer seems likely I'll be able to complete two more years in school. I can't imagine how I'll ever be able to face all these kids after the disgusting things they'll no doubt see me doing today.

The cameras moved around our naked bodies for a moment. They recorded every square inch of our exposed flesh and then they moved back. Everything had apparently been choreographed before we arrived. Everyone seems to know what they have to do without any words being spoken.

Eight of the boys from our class came forward. They picked us up and carried us to the padded benches. We were placed on the benches on our backs. Thick leather straps around our midsections held us in place. Our heads hung down over one end of the bench and rested on a padded board. Another strap around our foreheads assured that we weren't going anywhere.

Our arms and legs were left free. They don't have to worry about us defending ourselves and I suppose they're looking forward to watching us flail around helplessly while they rape us.

The rapes began immediately. There was a press of bodies around us at first that only added to the terror. But the mass of horny males was soon pushed back so the cameramen have room to work and probably so the girls in the audience have a good view as well.

I noticed that the cameramen swept the room from time to time and I wondered if those girls are aware they'll soon be featured in a pornographic movie, even if it is just as an audience member.

My attention was quickly distracted by the cocks invading my mouth and my pussy and the hands that began to painfully explore my body. As I lay there being speared violently by two large cocks I can hear Marsha. She's whimpering in pain and mental anguish on her bench just a few feet away.

I feel sorry for her. But I can't help feeling sorrier for myself. I worked out the math in my head in a futile attempt to distract my tortured brain from the horror I'm experiencing. There are approximately fifty males here. If each of them rapes us only once, and I'm assuming they'll all take advantage of the opportunity to rape us at least once, and they average ten minutes per rape, it could take more than eight hours for them all to get a turn.

Logic dictates that even the rape of two young girls won't entertain this many males for that amount of time. I have to hope that it's quite unlikely the cameramen have any desire to record eight hours of the same scene over and over. The most diehard pervert must surely be bored to death by that.

So I have to assume that the guys will each get one chance at us and knowing the kids I go to school with the way I do now thanks to Reggie, I know a lot of them will be lucky to last five minutes.

The math began to fade away after I reassured myself that this marathon gang rape will probably last only about three hours. I tried not to think beyond that. I don't want to think about sucking a horse's cock again. It isn't that I'm actually able to forget about it or pretend it isn't going to happen. But I forced myself to put off worrying about it, at least as much as possible.

For the first hour or so I could hear Marsha crying softly in between the grunts of pain. But eventually she ran out of tears and there were only the grunts of pain.

I wondered after a while about the boys who are fucking my pussy or my ass. I know I must be a terrible mess from rape after rape. Yet they keep on coming. I'm amazed, considering how fastidious boys seem to be when it comes to coming into contact with another boy's semen. That seems to be one of the few things that can put them off their game.

But they kept right on coming.

It became very boring after an hour or so. The pain began to fade as my body became numb. I couldn't see anything most of the time, nothing but hairy nut sacks slapping me in the face as the boys fucked my mouth and throat. Occasionally one of them would be more sadistic than the others and do something to get a rise out of us. Sometimes they seemed to be trying to pick me up by my nipples while they raped my face. Or they would see just how far they could twist my nipples.

I heard Marsha cry out frequently, too. I knew they were treating her the same way.

I didn't try to keep track of the cocks that invaded my body or the time that seems to be passing so slowly. It isn't like I can look forward to this being over. Because when the boys are finished with us it'll be time for the next act. It will be time to entertain my classmates by having oral sex with a horse.

When the gang rape finally ended I was so exhausted I couldn't even lift my arm to look at my watch. I glanced around the barn, more curious about the expressions on the faces of the girls than anything else. A few look bored to death. A few of the others look like they could use a little action themselves. But the rest all seem to be waiting impatiently for the next act. When my eyes would meet theirs it shocked me that they aren't even embarrassed!

But then, why would they be? It isn't like I'm human now. I'm an object. I'm a thing that will fuck and suck anyone and anything at anytime. They have no reason to consider my feelings or my opinions.

What continues to amaze me the most is the reaction I see on the faces of the girls who once were my friends. There's no recognition of our past relationships. I'm just as much an object to them as I am to the boys. If anything they seem to think worse of me than the kids who were not my friends before this all started. Surely by now they must know I'm not doing the things Reggie makes me do voluntarily! Every kid in school must know it by now!

Marsha and I were finally released from the padded benches. Neither of us was able to move. We both needed help to get to our feet and once upright we were unable to stand without leaning on the benches on which we've been restrained for so long.

I finally checked the time. I was pretty close on my estimate. It has been three hours and twenty minutes from the time we arrived. I glanced down at my abused body. My breasts are red and very sore. My nipples seem swollen from all of the abuse they suffered.

My thighs are tingling as feeling begins to return to them. They're coated with a layer of cooling cum down past my knees. My entire pubic area is coated in it, too. My vulva is red and swollen. That most sensitive part of my body has suffered so much abuse that it, too, is numb. I can't feel it at all.

I straightened up and tried to take a step but I would have fallen if it weren't for the bench. I looked over at Marsha. Her larger breasts obviously attracted even more attention than mine. They're in even worse shape than my smaller ones. But other than that her body is in as bad a shape as mine. She still has her pubic hair. It's matted with such a thick coating of cum that you can't see the hairs. It looks like her hair is coated with a thick layer of grease.

But the most striking thing about Marsha is the expression of abject despair on her face. How can all those people gathered around us not look at us, especially at her, and feel compassion?! I know without her having to say a word that she's once more seriously considering suicide. I'm going to have to have a serious talk with her when this day finally ends.

I struggled to regain the use of my legs for a few moments. I was finally able to walk, though my legs are trembling and unsteady. It wasn't until I started walking around the bench that I realized how much pain my stomach is in. It feels like I've been beaten. It reminds me of the first couple of times Reggie's father raped me.

Marsha is standing in place, leaning against the bench for support and crying quietly again. She's staring blankly at nothing looking very much like she's totally losing her grip on sanity. I put my arm around her shoulder and encouraged her to move around. It took a few minutes. But soon we were walking in a circle around the benches, trying to regain control of our lower extremities.