A girlfriend revenge, part 2
The sea wind rushed through the eaves of the large warehouse, sending draughts of humid air through the cracks in the windows and up the stairs into the rooms occupied by Cash and Ellen, the driver, Sylvia, and the German Shepherd.
Cash sat nervously silent. After his face had broken into a grin of relief at seeing Ellen captive, he had said simply, "Hi, Sylvia," out of the corner of his mouth and then gruffly but not cruelly grasped Ellen's elbow and led her back upstairs.
It was obvious that he was uncomfortable around the well-dressed middle aged man, who -- in spite of the dimness -- had put on a pair of sun glasses. The man's clothes, suave cleanliness, and unsmiling face made him look more menacing than any of the convicts. Feeling drained of hope and lifeless, Ellen sat wearily down at the small table, her shoulders slumped, and felt the return of sensation to her gravel-shredded bare feet. The pain seemed to radiate upward to her bruised and battered vagina; it throbbed in protest with each beat of her heart.
Sylvia stood with her hands on her hips and gazed around at the soiled mattresses and the litter on the floor. "Jeez, what a fucking dump," she said loudly and to no one in particular.
The driver had disdainfully pulled out a chair opposite Ellen, brushed crumbs off it, and sat down, holding his umbrella between his knee; the attache case he had been carrying was placed on the floor by his left foot. Ellen noted that he continued to wear his hat, raincoat, and driving gloves. He waited quietly, like a sleeping coiled snake, as if he had all the time in the world.
Ellen was sitting there, trying not to weep, when she saw the German Shepherd, Rex, suddenly perk his long ears forward. He rose, his tail wagging, and went to the head of the stairs. Then he barked loudly and began noisily scrambling down toward the landing.
The driver spun rapidly, his hand blurred as it came out of the raincoat pocket clutching a snub-nosed revolver. Ellen gasped as both Sylvia and Cash froze.
A second later, they all relaxed when Billy silently padded into the room followed by the dog. His hooded eyes took in Ellen first and, although he didn't speak to her, she sensed a surprisingly quiet gentleness in his movements which made her feel slightly more at ease.
His hand dropped to Rex's ears and he scratched the dog affectionately as he nodded toward the man who had been driving the car.
It was then that Sylvia, tall, dark-haired, and sensual-looking in spite of the fact that she was probably still a teenager, stood up with a look of obvious displeasure on her face. "Whatsa matter, Billy, don't you have any kisses for me, or have ya been saving them up for your Goddamn dog," she asked coarsely. When he didn't answer immediately, her eyes narrowed nastily, "Or maybe you been up so long that you've gotten used to those penitentiary fairies I hear so much about. Or maybe it's this blonde bitch here," she said, tossing her head contemptuously toward Ellen.
"Shut up, Sylvia," he said ominously.
"Don't tell me to shut up..." she began and her words were cut short in the middle of the sentence when Billy took two fast steps forward and viciously slapped her face; the force of the blow caused the girl to topple sideways and fall onto the mattress.
"Who is she," Sylvia spat out like an angry cat.
"That ain't none of your business." His attitude softened unexpectedly. "Besides, we wanted a little something to keep us company while we waited for you guys to show. We just might need her if things get tight with the fuzz."
Sylvia stood, obviously emboldened again by his softened tone of voice. She looked at the gang leader, then glared at Ellen across the length of the room. She was a tall, remarkably striking girl with jet black hair and large, ripely rounded breasts whose nipples appeared clearly beneath her tight, flimsy blouse. Her young face had an arrogance to it that emphasized an aggressive sexuality, and it was suddenly quite obvious to Ellen why Billy had been attracted to the woman: she was the perfect alter ego to the gang chief, whose every gesture reflected a primitive grace and animal sexuality.
The tall brunette nodded, then her lips curled in a sneer and her face flushed. "She says you all gang-banged her. Ya mean to say ya couldn't wait until I got here to get a little?"
Cash broke out with a loud guffaw, a laugh that was quickly smothered when he saw the murderous look on Billy's face. "Why should I wait for a slut like you?" he said quietly. "Did you wait? Or have the stories I've been hearing about you and 'Paddy' O'Hare been all lies?"
"Billy... honestly... I... I..." she began, and it was obvious from her expression that she was going to lie.
"Oh, shut up," he said contemptuously. "Just shut up."
The gang leader went back toward the doorway and rapidly flicked the light switch off and on three times. "Pop's out there at the turn-off," he said to Cash. "Anyone seen Vito?"
"I believe I almost ran over him," the well-dressed man said, not changing expression.
"It's too bad you didn't," Billy said. "It would have saved me the trouble of killing the son of a bitch."
A moment later, the sound of the pickup truck came from beneath the windows. This was followed by Pop's heavy foot-tred on the stairs. He, like all the others, looked relieved when he saw Ellen had been recaptured. "It's starting to rain," he said, as casual as if he were entering a barber shop for a haircut.
"You see Vito?" Billy asked.
Pop hesitated a second, then shrugged. "Yeh. I saw him cutting through the dunes coming in this direction." He looked back and forth between Ellen and Billy, then shrugged again as if he had decided to keep his thoughts to himself. His weathered face broke into a slight grin when he saw Sylvia, apparently for the first time. "Why... lookie who's come to visit! Hello, there... honey," he growled playfully.
Sylvia merely stared at him as if he were something that had crawled out of a sewer pipe, then turned her back on him.
Pop's face flushed in anger and his eyes narrowed. Ellen found herself shuddering at his look of hatred, and it was only then that she remembered her original opinion of the fat old man -- that although he was not as sadistic as Vito, he was probably the most evil of all of the convicts in spite of his jolliness and friendly outgoing demeanor.
Less than a minute later, Rex moved restlessly away from Billy's side and growled low in his throat. The gang leader gave a hand signal and the dog went over to the corner and lay down.
Vito, looking white-faced and frightened, slunk into the room. His ferrety eyes blazed with murder as they swept over Ellen. "You fucking bitch," he said, and had taken one step toward the cringing young blonde when Billy's fist hit him on the side of the head. He literally flew through the air and bounced against the wall, where he slumped almost unconscious to the floor. Then, shaking his head to clear it, his eyes a cauldron of madness, he put his hand in his pocket and withdrew a switch blade knife which he flickered open. The seven inch blade leapt to life, ready to destroy.
Stone-faced, completely unconcerned, Billy pulled a revolver from his waist band and pulled back the trigger with a soft click. "Tell everyone goodbye, Vito."
Only then did the wiry little convict panic. "No... no, Billy. Don't..." he panted. "Look, I'm throwing away my knife. I didn't mean... I... NO..." The last was a scream as he saw his death warrant written on the gang leader's face. "NO!"
"No, Billy," a new voice came -- a voice of authority, full of cold menace... sure of itself.
Billy spun around and found himself facing the barrel of the well-dressed man's gun.
"Put it away, Billy. Put it away... now!" the man said, his finger white on the trigger.
There was silence for a moment -- a silence broken only by the sound of excited spittle sliding down Pop's throat as he swallowed, and the sudden scrabble of paws against wood as Rex scrambled to his feet.
"Stay," Bill commanded, not taking his eyes off the man. When he was satisfied that the German Shepherd was going to obey, he asked, "Why shouldn't I kill that little son of a bitch? Give me one reason. He let the girl escape. He's the one who almost got us picked up even before we left the prison. Why shouldn't I put a bullet in his fucking brain?"
"Because you need him. He's a good mechanic and you'll need him if anything goes wrong with the boat when you're en route to the island."
"He's trouble," Billy said.
"He's a mechanic, and you might need him," the man repeated.
Ellen stared at the showdown between the two men and then saw Billy's shoulders slump in defeat. Gradually he lowered his gun. The other man's expression remained unchanged; he waited until Billy's gun was back in his waistband and then put his own weapon away.
Once assured that he was safe, Vito got quickly to his feet again. He stumbled as he stood, falling against Sylvia. "Get yer cruddy hands off me, you fucking little creep," she said in disgust, shoving him away.
Pop and Cash both guffawed loudly and Billy nodded as if he finally agreed with something the tall brunette said. Vito's mouth tightened and his wiry figure stiffened dangerously.
Sylvia stood her ground, smirking at him. "Don't ruffle up your feathers at me, pigshit. You ain't got no knife to back you up now... or had you forgotten you threw it away when you were crapping in your britches a couple of seconds ago. It's too bad Billy didn't shoot you."
"Shut up, both of you," Billy said with ominous softness.
Vito stood, trembling with barely suppressed violence. His glance of hatred raked over the tall brunette's body, then flickered -- snake like -- toward Ellen seated at the table. If anything the murderous look intensified.
Ellen shuddered in spite of herself. Vito was really the only one that truly frightened her. Pop was evil, but she had discovered last night with her mouth full of his hotly throbbing penis that she could handle his particular brand of evilness. Vito, though, was something else than human... and she was eternally grateful that he had not been given a chance to use her as the others had last night. Now she could feel his eyes course viciously down the length of her young body, and she felt vulnerable as she sensed his lust mounting anew as he made an obscene appraisal of her still partly exposed breasts and the line of naked flesh showing openly through her ripped jeans.
The young blonde hostage instinctively drew nearer to the gang leader who kept a watchful eye on Vito and her. She had already forgiven him for using her body as a wager in a crap game the night before. He had lost her in a game of chance that had as much value to the four desperate criminals as any judgment from a high court of justice. She sensed that Billy had resolved to hold his gang off from her and would do all in his power to keep them from using her as they had during the long and horrible night. He wouldn't reprimand them, but they wouldn't get the chance to abuse her again... not while he was alive!
Ellen felt relatively secure now that Billy was still here close by her side to protect her. He wasn't angry at her escape attempt; it seemed as if he liked her even more as a result. Her thoughts automatically turned to ways she might please him if she really had to, and she knew that if called upon to give herself to him she would do it in gratitude, but she would never permit herself to be handled by the others again. Yes, Billy was strong and she was going to humble herself, no matter how distasteful it might be, to the more powerful of her abductors. Only then -- as the chief's woman -- would she be protected. It was as simple as that, and yet the young girl still was deeply shaken at how the comparatively serene course of her life had been dramatically altered within a period of only a few hours.
Now she would do anything to please Billy, and she was aware that he needed her silent encouragement if he were to remain gang leader. It was strange how most of life's choices were made by outside circumstances alone. She wondered how much her choice of Bob as her fiance had to do with their first accidental meeting at a dance, and the fact that his mother and father were close friends of her parents. Now she had a choice between four escaped convicts, all of whom, except Vito, had ravished her against her will, but she still had to make a choice between them for her protector.
She knew it wouldn't take much to get any one of these men to act as a shield against the others, but the question was whether her own choice would hold in good stead. Despite her own deep-seated feelings of revulsion and fear of Billy, she knew through a second sense that he had a soft spot in his heart for her. She could tell by the way he had acted, almost tenderly, after he had raped her in the back of the truck, and she had become aware of his feelings again after he had lost the crap game. The look of sad relinquishment of her beautiful young body to Cash and Pop last night had sent a shock of momentary understanding through her tortured mind -- but that had been quickly blotted out by the brutal ravishment of her tender young body that had followed.
Whatever warmth and compassion Billy might show toward her would, of course, be bestowed at no expense to the gang leader's pride and sovereignty over the others. She knew that in the final analysis she was still an object to be used and disposed of like a cheap rag doll that is thrown into the trash after its novelty has worn off and the child has lost interest. No, she could not hope for more than a passing interest in him for her safety, but meanwhile she must play this momentary tenderness he felt for her for all that it was worth. She would be his whore; somehow or the other, if she hadn't already replaced Sylvia in his affections, she would have to get rid of the other girl. But how?
She looked up dully as a sudden splatter of rain hit the windows and a gust of wind rattled sections of the tin roof.
"All right," Billy said, assuming command again. "Let's get this meeting started. Come on Cash... Pop." He looked at the ferret-like Vito, and his face twisted in disgust. "You, too."
CHAPTER TWO
The gang leader pulled his chair over to the table, and the others noisily followed him. The distinguished-looking man waited until the four convicts were seated, and then he carefully inspected each of their faces, obviously passing judgment. Ellen noticed that there was something distinctively different about the man that made him contrast starkly with her abductors; and yet -- in spite of his sophistication, there was also a sameness -- a certain criminality. She watched as he set his brief case on the top of the table and began to shuffle through some papers. The man's gestures were those of an accomplished businessman who was accustomed to dealing at the highest levels of authority. He was no common criminal, and yet there was a slickness to his movements that somehow reminded Ellen of the suave gestures of the card shark or the professional gambler. No, these men were worlds apart in appearance and in thought; but something had drawn them together today that would change the course of the lives of all who were present in the warehouse... and perhaps would alter the direction of world events outside the narrow confines of the criminal mentality of her kidnappers.
Ellen noted a change in the way Billy had been acting, as the gang chief leaned toward the unidentified man sitting at the head of the table. He was no longer the snarling pack leader who asserted himself through violence and animal cunning, but he seemed as though he had consciously decided to keep his more aggressive stance in reserve until he had the new situation under his control. Yes, he definitely had changed, and there was a disturbing quality to the transformation, Ellen thought, as she watched Billy light a cigarette and lean back somewhat nervously in his chair. She sensed a slight strain between the two men that was quite different from the animal conflict between Billy and the three other escaped convicts over the possession of her body.
The adjustment that Billy, as well as the other convicts, had to make when confronted with the well-educated demeanor of the man sitting before them was obviously difficult, Ellen thought. She remembered how she and her sister Jennifer had discussed the condition of the penitentiary system, and how they had come to the conclusion that, for the most part, prison confinement only warped the minds of those it intended to reform and made them into more hardened criminals. A sociology course she had taken in college had also brought up the point that even those prisoners who were released after serving their sentences often mistrusted authority and instinctively rebelled against it. It was apparent that Billy was struggling with this problem right now, even though the man to whom he was talking was, in his own right, as much or more of a criminal than Billy himself.
Perhaps, she reasoned, it was this new breed of criminals who had grown through organized crime or through subversive political and business organizations that spelled out the end of the old era of the Al Capone type gangster. They were not only working against the law of the land, but had become adept at bending that law to suit their own corrupt interests. The likes of Billy and the other men would serve this new breed well, Ellen believed, as they were a handy weapon behind which the real culprits could hide and make their attack against the established order of society.
"Before we start, I think you should get rid of those not participating in our project," the mysterious man said, nodding his head toward Ellen.
"She ain't no problem," Billy said quietly, then he sighed, lowering to the suggestion. "Listen, baby, you get in the kitchen and help Sylvia make us somethin' to eat."
The tall brunette's eyes narrowed in anger and then she spun and slammed her way into the kitchen. Ellen immediately followed the girl, even though she was terrified at being left alone with Billy's ex-girlfriend. She could hear the men continue discussing their plan from the next room, but the voices were half-muffled by a sudden loud cloudburst of rain beating against the tin roof of the warehouse, and it was impossible to follow what they were saying.
The young blonde hostage looked toward Sylvia with dread, and abruptly she knew that her most bitter enemy was not Vito, but this female who would do anything to rid herself of competition from Ellen for the favors of the gang leader. Ellen had studied the tall brunette back in the living room and had instinctively known that the girl was insanely jealous of Billy's new relationship with her. There had been a moment in there when she had thought that Sylvia might get completely out of control, and there appeared to be no doubt that if the other girl were given the opportunity she would attempt to destroy her. Sylvia was no different than the convicts, except she would unhesitatingly kill Ellen in order to regain the privileged position of being the gang leader's girlfriend. Ellen had heard many frightening stories of fights between gang girls over possession of their men, and she shuddered as she remembered some of the more grisly details she had read about in various magazines.
"Whatcha doin' just standin' there," she heard Sylvia's strident voice ring out, bringing her back to reality for a moment. "You get these dishes cleaned up and quick."
Ellen bent quietly over the sink and began washing the filthy dishes and pans that lay on the sink -- remnants of some meal eaten by someone else weeks or even months ago. Out of the corner of her eye she watched every one of the tall girl's movements as though her life depended on it. And it did! There was no way of getting around the fact that Sylvia intended to force a confrontation between Ellen and herself over Billy. In Ellen's mind, the other girl wanted her thrown to Vito, Pop, and Cash -- to be repeatedly raped again and made an object of their violent, most beastly desires.
"Now get into the living room and pick up the rest of them dishes and glasses on the table," Sylvia commanded once more. "We want to fix up somethin' decent for Billy."
Ellen returned to the living room, feeling very much like she had been a slave to Sylvia's harsh command all of her entire life. She paused as she began placing the remaining plates in her hands, and caught bits and pieces of the discussion between Billy and the man seated at the head of the table.
"Remember, you will be seated behind the grandstands," the man pronounced clearly to Billy and Cash. "There should be no slip-ups if you follow the plan to the letter."
Ellen saw Billy lean forward onto the table, his jaw tightened as though he were under great stress. "And what happens if they see us? You ain't told us about any backup protection."
"That will all be taken care of in due time. Right now we want to concentrate on how the first steps will be accomplished."
Ellen moved from the table, slowing a bit as she approached the door in order to hear some more of their conversation. When the stranger glanced up in her direction, she immediately returned to the kitchen.
Sylvia didn't say a word to Ellen as the young hostage bent over the sink again and ran cold water over the remaining dirty dishes. For a moment Ellen almost felt like trying to talk with the gang girl, but when she looked into Sylvia's hate-filled eyes she knew it would be useless. There was an unfathomable gap between the two young women that was made more apparent by their very gestures and forms of speaking: Ellen was soft-spoken and slightly refined in her way of expressing herself, while Sylvia had a crude coarseness that bluntly branded her as coming from the lowest segment of society.
The dishes complete, the blonde hostage turned to help Sylvia who was slicing pieces of ham onto plates for the men in the next room, but she was stopped when the sharp tip of the knife was pressed against her breasts. "Ya keep your hands off the food, I'll take care of that; and you finish cleanin' up in here," Sylvia scolded, as though Ellen were a small child. "I'm gonna take this stuff out to them. Ya just stay put, and get your ass busy and clean up the rest of the mess."
Ellen felt a surge of relief race down the length of her spine when the other girl left the kitchen. Yes, she would just as soon remain here throughout eternity than be abused by the four convicts again. So much depended on how she handled herself during the next few hours; if she irritated Sylvia unnecessarily, or brought the conflict between Billy and Vito to a head by her presence, she would be the one who would ultimately suffer. Her best chance would be to remain as inconspicuous as possible, and wait until her chance arrived to run away again, if it ever did. It might not be too difficult, since their attention was diverted from her for the moment. But when the opportunity came, she must be successful this time. Their revenge would be vicious and complete, and she just couldn't risk pushing them to the point where they were forced to get rid of her for good... if they weren't already planning to kill her. No, she would wait until she was absolutely positive that her escape would be assured, and then she would make her attempt.
"Ya finished in here?" Sylvia suddenly said from the door.
Ellen turned and nodded limply, feeling a sudden surge of hate from the gang girl that she couldn't understand.
"Then get your ass in the next room quick. Billy don't wanta have ya sittin' here by yaself when he can't watch what you're doin'."
The ugly sound of her menacing voice sliced through Ellen, and she realized that the gang girl's first confused and jealous attitude toward her was turning into one of reviling contempt that was bound to burst into an open violence soon. What the girl was and who she was no longer had any importance to Ellen, as all she could feel was Sylvia's deep enmity coming from so deep within her that the brunette's strikingly pretty face was transformed into an expression of animal loathing.
The voluptuous young blonde paused in fear and confusion, not really wanting to go out, then walked a few steps from the sink. Suddenly a flash of pain struck her face and sent her head reeling. "Ya didn't hear what I said?" Sylvia gritted her teeth and slapped her open hand hard against Ellen's face once more. "Get it moving!"
The blow had brought Ellen to her senses, and for one split second she surveyed the gang girl with equal enmity. She forced herself to turn away from the girl and turned impassively to the door. As she tried to step into the next room Sylvia's taller frame moved out from the doorway and partially blocked her. She could feel the brunette's hot breath against her cheek and could sense electric shocks of hatred radiating out from her tensed body.
"You mess with Billy, and it's the last time ya mess with anything, do you hear me?" Sylvia said in a whisper so that the others couldn't understand. "I had him before ya even laid eyes on him, and I'll cut your tits off and shove 'em up your cunt if I have to to keep him," she hissed, inching past the girl and through the door.
"All right, what's goin' on?" Billy demanded as the two women entered the living room. When neither answered, he said, "Both of you -- over there where I can keep an eye on you... and keep quiet."
Ellen brushed the tears of rage from her eyes and sat down on the bare mattress behind the table. She watched Sylvia cross the room and stand next to the window. She noticed that the girl's eyes still glowed with the reviling contempt that had sent her into the tantrum a moment before, and Ellen turned her head towards the men seated around the table.
"We got a little plan that's real interesting," Billy said, staring at Ellen, a half-grin of obvious pride on his face.
"I'd like to know what the girl has to do with the plan," the older man at the head of the table said sharply. "After all, there is a certain amount of risk involved in a venture of this nature. The greater number of participants only increases the probability of something going wrong."
"Ya keep your big words to yaself," Billy said. "She's here and she's going to be part of it."
Suddenly the large German Shepherd rose up from his prone position on the floor and came to attention next to his master's side as though he had sensed a note of urgency or danger. Billy ran his hand nervously down the animal's back, and shifted his eyes from Ellen back to the angry face of the man who pulled out some papers from his briefcase, setting them on the table before them.
"Alright, Billy," the man said condescendingly. "But let us keep in mind that you are putting yourself into a jeopardizing position. There are men higher up who won't appreciate your methods."
"Thanks for the advice fella," Billy said and slapped the dog affectionately on the rear. "But let's get on with it."
Ellen tried to appear disinterested in what was going on around her, but she found it difficult not to follow the discussion. It was obvious that the men were planning a murder that would effect the political and social life of the entire area, if not the whole country, but it was still impossible to discover the reason for the assassination or who was to be shot. Ellen almost didn't want to know, as she was aware that the very possession of such knowledge would make things increasingly hard for her. She also felt that Billy had little, if any, understanding of the implications of the horrible act he was about to commit, yet he appeared to rush headlong into the plot like a blindfolded animal being led to its slaughter.
"I want you and your friend here," the man said, pointing to Cash, "to be at the entrance to the rally before the parade begins. This will give you the opportunity to survey the area. Our men will be waiting at the first exit to pick you up after the job is completed. The senator should be the first speaker on the program, and you'll have a perfect vantage point to get a bead on him from behind his head."
"And what if they see us?" Cash asked. "There's gonna be a big crowd there and if they get a look at us, we're done for."
"There will be no problem. On the opposite side of the stadium there will be a fist fight planned -- and some of our own men will be doing it -- and just before you shoot, the crowd's attention will be deflected from Senator Jorgens."
Ellen suppressed a gasp of recognition on hearing the senator's name being spoken. She realized that the man they were about to assassinate had been an important figure in Florida politics for several years, and had developed several enemies in the underworld that centered around Miami because of his brave attack on organized crime. She recalled with a painful sense of irony that Senator Jorgens had been the very man who had been pushing hard for prison reform within the state, and along with his investigation of crime had been exposing the inequities of the penal system in Florida. Certainly the four criminals in their ignorance did not realize this -- but if they did, the question was whether it would make any difference. Yes, Billy and the rest were truly being used as tools that would be discarded after their purpose had been served. There was no doubt in her mind that their death warrants had already been signed by the underworld lords. Ellen, herself, could see that as plain as daylight; but in their desperation and ignorance the escaped convicts were in no position to view the consequences of their acts.
"Yeah, but if any of them people get a glance at us, it still looks like it'll all be over," Billy answered after a moment of thought.
"We have prepared for that eventuality, Billy," the man said smoothly, talking to Billy as though he were a small child who just couldn't understand. "The moment you shoot him, another shot will ring out from behind our fist fight. It will actually be a firecracker, and there will be no weapon to be found. By the time the police get to our decoy, you and your friend will be out of the stadium."
"I don't like it," Pop said for the first time.
"What don't you like about it?" the man said, turning sharply to the new speaker.
"The part about gettin' out. That street is gonna be packed and there'll be cops to hell and back."
"Now we come to the next stage in our plan," the man said and leaned closer to Cash and Billy who sat on either side of him. "We've got to make the killing look as though it came from the protectors who've been making trouble recently. There will be a demonstration, as there always is, planned by us, and the student protectors will be uncomfortably close to our little fist fight. Now, knowing the temper of these times, who do you think is going to get fingered, you or the Students Alliance?"
"I don't want nothin' to do with no Goddamn protest," Billy muttered, looking uncertain.
"My dear boy, don't you understand that the demonstrators will be your salvation? Who would suspect a couple of wanted men -- actually appearing in public to kill a controversial senator, when a bunch of noisy college kids will be waving signs and shouting their usual obscenities. You've just got to understand the dynamics of mob behavior. A crowd has no individuality; it does not think, it just acts -- and our three ingredients, the fight, the firecracker, and the demonstrators, will more than assure you of complete success and escape."
"I don't know whatcha talkin' about," Billy said morosely. "But I get the feeling that you haven't leveled with us about why you want this Goddamn senator ripped off so real bad."
"Yeah, what's in it for you?" Vito's nasal voice joined in.
"My motives are of no special importance to you," the man nodded seriously. "Knowing too much may, in fact, be disadvantageous. I am a careful man who works for careful men, and I do not think you need to attach much importance to what you are doing. Just remember that it is through my employers that you have been able to make your escape from prison. We did that for you. We're prepared to go the rest of the way and see you get to Mexico in safety."
"I don't like the way you're runnin' everything. I think we can make this thing go better'n you, seein' that we're professionals," Billy interjected, a forced skepticism in his voice. He didn't mind all the brain work being allotted to others, but he reacted violently to the fact that he was being forced to follow the methods of people he did not know and did not trust. A flicker of jealous concern raced through his mind when he realized that his position as gang leader was being usurped by this outsider. "We got the experience and the know-how in making a hit, anyway."
"And that is precisely why we have hired you. However, on other levels there are things you cannot do. You have no idea of the larger concerns that govern the operation," the man responded contemptuously and rose up stiffly in his chair. "The other aspects of this project should not concern you or your men."
"There ain't no other concerns right now but that we get our money. Look here, Mr. Big Businessman, you show us the stash of cash, right now, or there won't be no big operation," Billy spat out angrily, suddenly fed up with the stranger's slickness. He leapt to his feet, "Let's see the green stuff!"
The man sat motionless at the head of the table and gazed coolly across the floor past Billy to the rain splattered warehouse window. He seemed to catch everything in his calm gaze in that instant, passing his eyes from the dog sitting tensely at Billy's side to the convict at the table, and slowly flicking them past the two women.
"It's all here for you to look at," the man said and opened his briefcase, withdrawing a stack of one-hundred dollar bills. "One half now. You get the rest, my friend, after the killing."
"How do we know you won't cross us?" Pop suddenly demanded from the far end of the table.
"You don't know, do you?" the man said without raising his voice.
On command from Billy the dog jumped to its feet and moved like a shot towards the man. The man did not lose his composure, he merely said in a normal tone of voice, "Down, Rex!" The huge animal snarled in rebellion, but the stranger continued to stare directly at it. "Down," he repeated. The dog looked questioningly up at his master.
"I just wanted to give you an idea that we ain't foolin' with ya," Billy said nervously, then added, "Down, Rex." His fists were clenched as he glared at the table.
"I have no doubts about that," the would-be victim answered, smiling sarcastically. "But this is all very childish. Sit down so we can finish making our preparations."
Suddenly Billy looked cowed. All his attempts to intimidate the older man and to retain his own precarious power had failed, and he seemed almost defeated standing with his command all but gone and his pride smashed. It was obvious to Ellen that he was unable to understand the intricacies of the assassination plot, and that he was no more than a hired gunman... and not a very bright one at that. He and the rest of them were expendable items and had a limited usefulness, but none of them knew this.
Almost as if sensing his untenable position, the gang leader sat down. He stared, almost unseeingly, at the well-dressed man. All of his criminal instincts told him something was wrong, but there was nothing he could do about it; with a snap of his fingers the man with the briefcase could have him and the others back in prison where they would probably remain for most of their lives, living in a kind of twilight world of unfulfilled dreams and vain promises... if they weren't hit by the underworld within the walls as a lesson to others. His own men were probably more distrustful of him now than they had ever been, and this is what made things all the more painful. He couldn't stand being knocked down in front of the others as though he were just a piece of dirt. Irrationally, he thought about pulling his gun and killing the man opposite him, but one look at his own trembling hands told him he'd never pull it off.
The rain drove in long sweeps across the parking lot outside the warehouse and beat against the windows of the ramshackle building in a mounting fury that seemed to match the violence of the discussion going on inside. Ellen felt the impact of the two forces merge inside her and her very body shuddered while the argument between the opposing figures of authority continued to build in intensity. She felt her heart go out to Billy and the other prisoners as she became more and more aware that they were no match against the real professional seated at the head of the table. Even the German Shepherd lying by the gang leader's side had been prevented from attacking the man, as though the animal itself were no match against the superior will of the stranger. Ellen likened the prison escapees to a bunch of children who had lost their way in a woods and had reverted back to their primal nature, searching and stumbling down blind paths that only made them more utterly lost while their base animal selves took over.
And now, despite the fact that they had raped her and run their coarse hands over and over her body as though she were nothing more than a slut off the streets, she felt pity mixed with fear for them: did they know what tragedy awaited them, or had they been reduced to mere sub-humans by their years of confinement... and unable to recognize that the superior cunning of the man with the briefcase was to be their own destruction?
"The money looks OK," Billy said grudgingly and counted the bills, laying them down on the table in front of the man. "When do we get the rest?"
"That, of course, comes after the killing," the man said coldly and looked down at the dog lying next to Billy.
"The boat's gonna be waiting? Ya know we'll be hot for about five years," the gang leader asked, looking at Cash and Pop almost as if he were seeking their support against this man.
"Your driver will have this map," the man said and drew out a folded chart from his briefcase. "This will show him the route marked to the private pier down the coast about ten miles. A boat will be waiting along with the balance of your payment. In a few days you'll be safe in Mexico."
"Mexico! Whooopeeee!" Vito suddenly shouted with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, clapping his hands gleefully. "Goddamn, I can't wait to get my hands on some of them senoritas!"
The stranger looked harshly across at the little convict, an expression of contempt on his face for a moment. "It is not necessarily going to be that easy. Once you get to the boat you should be relatively safe, but there still are some risks, even though we are taking all precautions at the stadium."
"What happens if them demonstrators don't raise a ruckus?" Billy asked.
"It will be impossible for them not to do so. We have our own plants in the crowd who will stir them up. I think we can assume that a few of the protectors will be injured by the police."
"That's no sweat off my back," Billy muttered. "Just as long as we get our dough and get out quick."
"You must remember to follow the agreed-upon plan. The higher ups in the organization know what they're doing. We're the only protection you have, and the protection will work only if you follow instructions."
Billy looked around the table at Cash, Pop, and Vito. They did not look back at him but kept their eyes lowered to the map on the table. There was no doubt which way they would go if he put the choice to them.
"Okay, fella, let's hear the rest of it," he said after a few minutes.
There were no other objections after Billy had had his say, and Ellen sat in stunned and helpless silence as the whole horrible plot was outlined before her eyes that would assassinate an important public figure and leave several bystanders dead or injured and would free the crime syndicate that was engineering the plot to operate without restraint.
The long day went on and on... interminably. Tempers grew short, and more than once, a snarling Billy was forced to back down. Time and time again, the men went over the plan, each one learning his part in the operation until it was committed to memory. It was late afternoon before the man folded his maps and packed them away in his briefcase. Billy had followed the complicated plan throughout the day while occasionally one or two of the others had to be nudged awake because of the humid, stupefying heat. Periodically, as the afternoon wore on, Ellen felt Pop's and Cash's eyes returning to view her half-naked young body in obvious remembrance of what they had done to her the night before. Sylvia slept -- unmindful of the conversation going on around her. But the snake-like eyes of Vito didn't sleep; they followed Ellen's every movement and they plainly said what he would like to do to her later that night. The others had gotten theirs and with Sylvia on hand to complicate things it looked like he might have the opportunity to take advantage of her when the others became distracted with the final steps of the assassination plot, and he was left alone with the girl.
Finally, the well-dressed man and the gang leader moved toward the door. "Okay, it's all set to go," Billy said, standing at the stairway. It was then he seemed to relax a little and asked quizzically. "But one other thing. How come ya thought of hiring us to do the rip-off?"
The stranger smiled for the first time and raised his briefcase off the floor. "We look for experts and found them. We put no cost level on gunmen we hire, you ought to know that from the conversations you had in the Pen."
"Yeah, that's right," Billy shrugged, sounding only half-assured. He was still standing there, looking uncertain, when he closed the door behind him without even waiting for the stranger to leave the warehouse.
CHAPTER THREE
Ellen was glad when she heard the sound of the car engine leaving the house even though she knew it only brought the time closer when she would be, without a doubt, subjected to more indignities at the hands of her captors. But the man with the briefcase had brought more fear into her than ever would have been possible had she merely been sequestered with these criminals alone. Suddenly she had an image in her mind of what the outside world would be if political assassinations were permitted to go unchecked and unsolved; and it didn't look good. It would be a world of steadily mounting chaos where the strongest ruled the weak, and where the law of the land would become the savage rule of survival of the fittest. Right now the wanton abuse of her body and her loss of complete self-respect seemed almost inconsequential in comparison to what they were about to do tomorrow; yet she knew that when the moment came, and she had to submit to them once more, she would react with as much revulsion as she had before... because it was happening to her! A rape was here and now! And there was no way of escaping the humiliation... especially with these men.
"Why dontcha make yaself comfortable, honey?" she heard Sylvia ask Billy in an obsequious tone. "Maybe I can fix ya somethin' to eat."
"Goddamnit, just get me some whiskey and leave me alone, will ya?" he answered gruffly, weary, uncertain, and still angry at the discussion he had had with the overbearing stranger.
The others sat quietly and averted their gaze from Billy, knowing that it would be sheer idiocy to cross their gang leader at this moment. They knew what he was capable of doing, and were fearful that he might erupt into an uncontrollable violence after he had been rather abruptly put in place so many different times during the long day. He had been humiliated and beaten at his own game, and now he was momentarily reduced to the same level as the other men. That would mean that he would try to assert himself more vigorously than he ever had before; after all, he was now challenged on all sides, and a cornered animal has no choice other than to fight violently for its life.
Ellen sat and watched Billy extend his glass for Sylvia to fill it to the brim. Time seemed to stand still in the warehouse, the afternoon had worn into the lazy summer half-light of early evening. The rain had stopped and over the hazy skyline of the nearby city a burnished sunset glow lit up the horizon. Soon it would be night, and Ellen's fear of what the men planned to do to her next began to grow. Cash, Pop and Vito were crouched down next to the wall at the far end of the room; they had begun shooting craps, and with each crack of the dice Ellen felt as though a new verdict or further confirmation of her ravishment was being sealed. Once Vito stared back at her, and Ellen caught a sliver of light that glittered up from the evilly swirling depths of lust in his eye. The silence was ominous, and the intermittent sounds of Billy pouring himself more whisky and the dice clattering against the wall only made it all the more frightening.
The thought struck Ellen that the dice playing, the drinking, and even that vile expression of animal lust she had experienced last night and undoubtedly would be subjugated to again, were expressions of a deep inner fear that embraced each of the four men. Death was near, it was inescapable, and if they couldn't out-run it, then they could at least blind themselves to its approach. Even Sylvia seemed to be aware of it, and she sat silently drinking alongside Billy, her movements strangely tranquil, almost a mirror image of the gang leader's gestures of quiet desperation. Slowly the silence seemed to break with the growing chatter from the men crouched near the wall, and Ellen sensed that plans for the night were being made again. Occasional furtive glances were shot up towards her seated figure, and she tried to make herself as stiff and unobtrusive looking as possible. She was grateful for the glass of whiskey Billy had poured for her earlier, and now she sipped from it, feeling it course through her veins and relaxing her somewhat. Then, suddenly, she remembered the dog; and for some reason, she shuddered at the thought of the huge animal lying in watchful repose at its master's feet.
She wanted to blot it out: she just couldn't stand the sight of the animal. If she tried to escape, he would stop her!
As if sensing her thoughts, Rex raised his head and stared at her.
But the strange irrational feeling subsided as quickly as it had come upon her, and she was left to handle more realistic considerations of how she was going to avoid further attacks from the four criminals. She hoped beyond hope that Billy would make some kind of sign to assure her that she would be his for the evening. The thought of him possessing her was not pleasant, but it was preferable to her other alternatives. She knew too that she had been on his mind. If he took her tonight he would have the wrath of the gang girl to deal with, and if he didn't, he knew he had to give her to the others. Her eyes wandered across the room to the soiled mattress where Cash and Pop had raped and ravaged her, kneading her body into tortured balls of humiliated flesh the night before. And now she found herself muttering a silent prayer -- a silent pleading that Billy wouldn't let them do that to her again.
"It's getting late. Don't you think we oughta head to bed, honey?" Sylvia's voice suddenly broke through the heavy silence.
The gang leader remained morosely silent, but the others responded by moving away from their crap game and facing Billy and his former girlfriend.
"If you want to have Sylvia tonight, there ain't no reason, it seems to me, we can't have a go at little Miss Sweet Pussy here one more time," Cash said, and grinned at the laughter he had provoked from Vito and Pop.
Billy looked up at him and for the first time since the meeting had ended several hours earlier smiled.
"Well, there's been a change of plans, Cash, old boy," Billy said thickly, the alcohol he had drunk obviously affecting his speech. "She's sleeping in my bed tonight!"
Ellen felt her heart plunge into her throat. Yes, it was happening, and she just couldn't believe that this was going on right before her own eyes. It wasn't much, but she wouldn't be raped by all four of the gunmen again, at least tonight.
"Billy, Billy," Sylvia cried out, a sound of pain erupting from her throat. "What are you doing? We've been together so long. You can't do this to me."
"Shut up," he said angrily without looking at her. "When I say the word, don't you or nobody question it."
"Please Billy, I been waiting for you so long, and now you go and do this thing to me!"
"Shut up, I said," Billy snarled and slapped her hard across the face. "You heard my decision. You should have thought about it earlier, when you were giving Pete O'Hara one of your special blow jobs and fucking half the raunchy turds in his gang."
"Billy! You can't do this to me," she screeched, "I won't let you."
There was a moment of pause, deadly in its silence, then Billy spoke again. "I'm tired of your Goddamn complaints." He turned and looked at the men, a sardonic look in his eyes. Then he cast his gaze back toward the enraged contorted face of the gang girl and grinned. "I'm making you guys a little present."
A loud wail of protest came out of Sylvia's mouth. What Billy intended to do at this moment was only too clear, and she shook her head from side to side in disbelief. The gang leader and his former girlfriend stared at each other for an instant, then Billy shrugged and waved his hand toward the ferret-like little convict in a gesture of indifference. "You've been waitin' a long time, Vito. Go to it! She's all yours! Do what you want to her. Leave a little something for the other boys. Maybe you should teach her a little discipline."
A shock ran through the room. Vito, like a weasel after a rabbit, responded immediately, bounding across the room and covering the distance between himself and Sylvia in a single leap. He landed on her stomach and crushed her flat to the floor. Sylvia wrenched her voluptuously tall body and kicked her legs out futilely on either side of him, but the speed and suddenness of his attack were too great for her, and she lay writhing and screaming obscenities beneath his already humping body without the slightest chance of escape.
Vito clung to her, saliva running lewdly from the corners of his mouth, and his greasy hair falling over his eyes; he looked like a bird of prey ready to devour its helpless, fear-stricken victim in a savage feast. He had been denied a part in the proceedings too long, and his near-insane emotions had built to an explosive peak of anger and unbearable frustration. He had thought that he might finally get his chance at Ellen tonight, but in a way this was even better, he considered, recalling how Sylvia had teased and flirted with him safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't dare touch her because she belonged to Billy. Then there had been her statement earlier in day about his being a "little creep". He would pay her back a thousandfold for each insult, for each suggestive smile she had given him, and for each prick-teasing touch to his arm that had driven him half-crazy with a lust that he had known he couldn't possibly satiate while Billy was leader.
But now her situation had changed, and their roles were reversed, the prize of the leader's girl lay utterly prostrate and helpless beneath him. He had permission to do anything he wanted to the slut. Billy no longer cared what happened to her and had even chosen that she be taken first by Vito whom she had tormented and tortured for so long.
Ellen watched in horror from her position on the end of the mattress where she sat next to Billy's chair. She wanted to help the poor defenseless girl, but could not. No one, even Billy, could have torn the lust-crazed Vito from the sensuous young brunette's body, now. Ellen realized that she was just as helpless and vulnerable as Sylvia, and the knowledge increased her fear and dread at the horrible spectacle transpiring in front of her.
She watched as Vito pulled the face of the girl to him and mashed his thin, spittle-covered lips down hard on her gaping mouth. The kiss was hard and brutal and the girl tossed her head in an attempt to wrench her mouth out from under his, but the movement carried through with a force that sent her head rattling against the floorboards.
Sylvia grunted in startled pain from the shock and then incoherent mumblings of panic began pouring from her lips, and she tried once again to escape as she looked up at Vito's evil little face so contorted with murderous rage and violence. She screamed and then her breath stopped short as she saw the attack coming -- his palm swinging in a wide arc over her exposed face. The blow came down hard, and her head hit against the floor again with a loud thud. He slapped her rapidly about half a dozen times until her shrill screaming ceased. Ellen thought that surely the girl must be unconscious, and Vito must have thought the same for he began unhooking his pants. Sylvia's head rebounded off the floor and she succeeded in scrambling to her knees in a burst of energy that only fear can bring.
"Billy, please, help me, baby," the girl screamed in a frantic voice.
Vito's second series of slaps came from the side and landed on the kneeling girl's face in a loud sound of hard flesh hitting soft flesh; the force of his blows sent her flying backwards halfway across the room, where she thudded against the wall.
From her position on the mattress, Ellen watched in disbelief and utter dismay. It didn't seem possible that Vito could treat the girl as roughly as he did or that Billy would allow it, but she could see with her own eyes that it was true. She shuddered to think that the same murderous treatment by the gang could well be applied to her at any moment if she didn't cooperate.
Vito lurched across the room and dragged his half-conscious victim back across the floor until the couple were once again directly in front of Ellen and Billy. He slapped Sylvia again, and Cash and Pop smiled uncertainly from the distance of the other side of the room. They knew that their turn with the proud, arrogantly tormenting bitch would come soon and, although they were as ready as Vito to turn their long pent-up resentment and lust on her in revenge for the haughty way she had treated them, they still did not want the merchandise harmed.
The dark-haired girl was barely conscious now, and Ellen watched in stunned disgust as Vito's beady eyes greedily surveyed the feast spread before him. Then he began ripping the clothes off her sensually limp young body as rapidly as possible. Cash and Pop moved closer from across the room until they hovered directly over the couple, their eyes gleaming with lewd desire. This is the way it had looked last night, Ellen thought, when it was me on the floor.
Vito's long bony fingers curled around the collar of the girl's dress, then with a sudden rip he tore the entire front of her dress from her upper torso, exposing the luscious fullness of her large, nakedly firm breasts with their quivering, pink-areoled nipples that had stiffened into hardness upon contact with the air.
Sylvia started into full consciousness at the sudden assault and once again attempted to pull herself to her knees, but Vito used his foot to brutally shove her back to the floor, yanking both the dress and her sheer bikini panties off her long, slenderly tapered legs in a quick savage movement. The voluptuous brunette lay totally exposed and defenselessly naked underneath him now, her ripe curvaceous body contrasting dramatically with his ferret-like form.
There was no resistance left in the gang girl, but Vito didn't let up his animal-like attack for a minute. The sex-crazed little convict clawed and pulled like a madman at her softly quivering breasts and wide, firm-fleshed buttocks. He pulled at the poor girl's brown, berry-like nipples as though he were attempting to tear them off, causing her to shriek continuously in pain. Then he sprang to an obscene sitting position on her tautly writhing abdomen and curled his fingers around her small wasp-like waist in a vicious grip that brought tears of fright even to Ellen's gaping eyes.
The young blonde hostage felt tears of pity spilling uncontrollably down her own cheeks as the evil little Vito unzipped his fly and slowly twisted his pants down his legs to his ankles where they remained bunched in an obscene knot. Then laughing like a maniac, he forced Sylvia's legs brutally upright, then dropped his thin body beneath them and fell onto her quivering chest, crushing her hard against the floor once again.
The couple's feet were just inches away from Ellen who sat on the mattress, and her vision focused up between their legs at the girl's pink-fleshed pubic mound that was delicately covered with tendrils of sparsely curling black hair. The soft, wetly glistening cuntal mouth had parted slightly to reveal a second layer of blushing pussy lips between them. Then Vito savagely forced the girl's legs further apart and the jagged inner lips surfaced, curling outwards from the smooth-looking flesh of the tight stretched opening. Above the defenselessly naked target of the girl's vagina, Vito's wildly pulsating cock and his sperm-inflated balls dangled between his parted legs. A thin stream of clear, sticky-looking lubricant had already seeped out of the gaping hole at the head of his lust-swollen penis, and Ellen shivered in revulsion and disgust at the sight of it.
The sadistic little convict's hands pressed into Sylvia's fearfully cringing abdomen and then mashed the softly fleshed white orbs of her already squashed buttocks more firmly to the floor. He poised his now fully erect member just inside the straining entryway, keeping it there for what seemed to be several eternities.
Ellen could see the blood-engorged cockhead throb and jerk as it slowly expanded Sylvia's small elastic cuntal mouth and pressed her wetly pink flesh inward. The full outer lips of the wailing gang girl's glistening pussy spread further and further apart, and small wisps of pubic hair brushed and curled around the sides of his pulsating stiffness poised between them. Then, suddenly, Vito shoved his long thick cudgel brutally into the tightly stretched cuntal opening, and the red layer of vaginal flesh sunk inward as his massively hard cock slithered all the way to the hilt into her, bringing a scream of pain from Sylvia's lips.
"Aaaaaargh! You're hurting meeeee!"
The blood drained from Ellen's head, and she sank back in a near-faint against the mattress where she sat only inches away from the couple's wildly thrashing legs. She felt dizzy and her vision blurred to the point where she thought she was going to pass out completely, but she didn't. Instead, her heart beat in her throat and she began trembling, half in fear and half in something she didn't quite understand. An obscene memory suddenly flooded into her mind without warning. She had been brutally taken like this last night! It had been different with... with, who? Who? Abruptly she remembered!
She was no longer in the shabby warehouse, watching Vito's cruel violation of Billy's discarded girlfriend. No, now she was back on the beach and peering over the sand dune, stunned at the unbelievable image of the boy fucking her very own sister, while a second man waited his turn! Jennifer had been wildly ecstatic -- lewdly enthusiastic and enjoying it -- as she lifted her heels onto the boy's buttocks in an effort to force his penis deeper, deeper into her insanely thrusting loins that writhed so wantonly back and forth while her vagina climbed steadily up the lewd pole of the boy's stiffened white flesh thrusting into her like a piston rod.
Everything looked the same to Ellen, except that now she could see the all-too-vivid close-up of Sylvia's blushing pussy flesh clinging to Vito's wetly glistening penis on the outstroke, before the cuntal lips disappeared back inside as the little convict rammed his hardened shaft forward again. There was one other difference between the scene with Jennifer, her sister, and what was happening here! Jennifer had been almost delirious with sexual enjoyment. Sylvia was screaming like a wounded animal.
Ellen wanted to ask Billy to stop the attack, but she knew it was useless. Vito was already master of the girl that he had beaten into a yelling mass of submission; it was only a matter of seconds before Sylvia became adjusted to the rape. Even so, Billy couldn't have interfered if he wanted to; he had offered the gang girl to Vito and allowed the brutal little sadist to mistreat her, and now Vito's first maniacal strokes into her wetly cringing cunt had sealed the poor helpless girl's fate.
Sylvia's mouth opened and contorted soundlessly on her anguished face, too stunned to even make a protest. She twisted her nakedly voluptuous body to escape the hotly stabbing cock, but Vito thrust harder, screwing his pelvis tighter into her loins so there was no escape. She was trapped... trapped, and he lay over her for a moment wanting her to realize the helplessness of her position, proud that he could hurt her this way.
From the beginning when the tall brunette had tortured and teased him to the point of madness, Vito had known it would be like this if he could only get his long hard cock into her smart-assed softness. And he was skewered into her good now; she was so deeply impaled on his rod of flesh that he could hurt her all he wanted, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. After all, Billy himself had said, "Do whatever you want." The wiry little sadist reveled in the power he had over the leader's former girlfriend as he flexed the head of his impatiently throbbing cock against the tight wall of her wetly cringing cunt, bringing a low moan from the stuck-up bitch's gaping mouth.
Sylvia choked and sputtered beneath him in her ultimate humiliation of being the leader's rejected girlfriend now at the mercy of the sadistically sniveling Vito. In only a few hours her pride and assurance had plunged to depths of shame and fear beyond her wildest imagination. She knew that she would be tossed to Cash and Pop -- both of whom hated her arrogance -- when Vito was through with her body. They would shamelessly abuse her and violently fuck her when and how they desired until her young body lay hopelessly battered on the dirty floor, totally useless to anyone. She had seen it happen to other girls, but she had never believed it would happen to her. Never!
"Billy, baby, God, make him stop. Please make him stop," she moaned as Vito flexed his throbbing hardness mockingly inside her again.
"Fuck off, you bitch," the gang leader said cruelly.
Sylvia's bulging eyes gaped wider in piteous disbelief when Billy continued to sit silently in his chair next to the fearfully crouching Ellen on the mattress; he merely stared at his former girlfriend stonily and without sympathy. He had given his word to Vito and his men and he couldn't go back on it. The sensually naked brunette began to toss her head wildly from side to side on the dirty floor as the realization struck her with grim certainty that she had completely lost her power over her only possible defender... that another woman had taken her place... and she was no longer the proud and untouchable queen... only another helpless female.
Then Vito sank his impatiently pulsing hardness brutally deeper, beginning to plunge into her with long hard strokes that enveloped the full length of his erectly throbbing prick. The naked young gang girl pulled back under him, grinding her firmly fleshed buttocks down against the floor in pain, and moaning ceaselessly beneath his pounding body. Her mouth gaped open wide as her jet black hair flailed from side to side on the hard floorboards again and again in utter anguish. A whimper gurgled from her throat as Vito clenched his cruelly digging fingers under the backs of her thighs and pulled her legs forward until her knees were pressed against her shoulders. She was wet and open and helpless now, and he had complete access to her voluptuous young body as he began to fuck into her with ever-increasing brutal, hard-driving strokes.
"Oooooooooo God, Billy, stop him. Stop him!" Sylvia shrieked, then gagged in pain.
There was a seemingly endless pause lasting so long that Ellen thought Billy wouldn't even bother to answer his former girlfriend. "Sorry," the gang leader finally spat out at her nakedly thrashing young body, "but I ain't got no sympathy for bitches that cross me."
"Oh God, anybody else, but not Vito! He's horrible!" Sylvia wailed to no one in particular, realizing her pleas to Billy were useless.
Her wild supplications and moans were cut off abruptly when, without any prior warning, Vito's hand swung over her face and he smashed his flat palm down hard on her half-open mouth. Sylvia's further pleas were choked back deep in her chest and issued forth over the hand around her mouth in incoherent mumbl
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