Taking A Shortcut

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

*****

Damn it. Traffic was killing! Denise hit the steering wheel in frustration. She rolled a couple of feet forward and then stopped again. The freeway was bumper to bumper as far as she could see, and it felt like a hundred degrees in the blazing sun. The AC had broken down, and she had no time to fix it. Even with all the windows rolled down, she felt sweat trickle down her back.

Slowly inching forward and feeling choked to death by exhaust fumes, she came up to an exit. She looked longingly at it. She would not usually take it on her way home from work. "Either that or be gassed to death," she thought to herself and went down the ramp. Finally, fresh air came in through the windows. She took a deep breath in relief. She felt sweat starting to dry from her skin as she made a good pace.

The area was unfamiliar, and she knew it was not a safe part of the city for a lone woman to cruise around. She navigated the streets, trying to stay in the general direction toward home. Finally, she came upon an intersection that looked vaguely familiar. Already from far away, she could see that it was as bad as the freeway.

There was a small street angling off in the general direction she wanted to go that looked promising. However, it looked deserted of cars and people. She eyed it dubiously, and then she took it anyway. She felt a bit of apprehension as she carefully made her way forward. It was not a nice area, and garbage littered the street. Suddenly, there was a dull thud, and her car began to lurch unevenly, and she steered to the curb.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" she thought to herself as she understood she had a flat tire. This was not a good place to be forced to stop and change a tire. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw nails gleaming in the sun on a plank she had just run over.

Nervously, she scanned the street. Then, right on cue, a guy appeared behind a building and looked at her. He disappeared but reappeared again shortly. A second guy followed, then a third, a fourth, and finally a fifth guy. Her heart began beating hard in her chest. They were all Black, looking young, about twenty years old. The last guy looked to be younger. They angled across the street toward her. They looked threatening, but at least not like gang members. She thought for a second that she should close the windows but realized it was futile. She scanned the street nervously, but no one else was around.

The one who had first spotted her was first getting to the car. He was tall and had a close-cropped haircut. He wore an oversized T-shirt and loose shorts. He leaned against the door and leered down at her through the open window. She felt very exposed.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he asked mockingly.

She looked at them and how they surrounded her car. Her palms felt sweaty as she gripped the steering wheel uselessly.

"Hi," she said, feeling foolish.

"It seems we have a lady in distress," another guy stated, looking around his friends. He looked sure of himself, and she understood that the others expected him to take the lead.

The guy spotting her first snickered. "Yeah, Darius, you told her!"

"Seems so," she said, heart thumping. She tried to ignore the first guy even if he was closest. Darius was probably the leader, and she had to focus on him and ignore the others. One of them leaned down and looked at her through the open window on the passenger side. He was a tall, skinny guy with dark-black skin. She felt surrounded and vulnerable.

"Don't you know you cannot run down our street without permission?" Darius asked.

"Sorry," she said, her heart thumping, "I did not know."

They knew she was trapped and circled the car like a group of hungry predators. She scanned the street for help, but it was deserted. She knew deep down it was useless. It was unlikely anyone in this area would interfere on her behalf if someone had happened to come by. Soon, they were making lewd comments about her looks. It went quickly downhill from there, and her worst misgivings were confirmed. She knew that if they robbed her, she was getting away lightly. She also knew what they wanted from her would likely be worse. She was good looking. Really good looking. She was, under normal circumstances, unattainable to them. Instead, she was defenseless and stuck in their area.

Darius did most of the talking, telling her that a rich woman like her had to pay for using their street. Since she was so hot, he reasoned, he knew the perfect way for her to compensate them. The sexual innuendo was so predictable that she was not even surprised. The other ones chimed in and agreed with him. They filled in with lewd comments about her looks. Especially her boobs got comments. She knew she had unusually large breasts for a woman her size. She was immensely proud of them. For once, she wished they were not so big.

She tried to defend her actions. She said she did not know it was 'their' street and would leave as soon as she had fixed her car. They brushed her arguments to the side. She was not surprised. Their talk was for show and only served to intimidate her. Intellectually, she knew what they were doing, but anyway, it scared her. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. They made her feel helpless by surrounding her car and taunting her.

She was in the final stages of acquiring a smaller company at work. Usually, she dressed to show off her female assets, but not provocatively. However, she had noticed that Mr. Carson, the company's owner, liked to rest his eyes on her legs. He did it discreetly when he thought she was not paying attention.

They had a four-hour meeting scheduled for the day. She had put on a shorter skirt than usual that ended well above her knees. Then she selected pumps with four-inch heels instead of her typical two or three inches. On top, she had a lovely lace bra that hugged her generous boobs perfectly and a sheer silk blouse. It became transparent enough to faintly make out the lace on her bra beneath in the right light. It had worked embarrassingly easily. Whenever there was an obstacle, she smiled at Mr. Carson and straightened her back. Her blouse became tighter over her boobs, and she re-crossed her legs to make her skirt hike up a bit. Then, it was easy peasy to get what she wanted within reason.

She had never dreamed about this situation while selecting clothes in the morning. Five Black youths were openly checking her out and mentally undressing her. They were doing it on a littered side street in a shabby area of a suburb. She fought down a reflexive urge to cross her arms over her boobs. She was a professional negotiator and knew it was essential to always stay in the lead. There was no telling where this would end if she allowed them to order her around. She was good at her work. She had even gotten the nickname Mission Impossible. She had gotten it for succeeding where everybody else failed.

She could see the hunger in their eyes as they looked at her. It was easy to tell what they wanted from her. No argument she could think of could deter the group of guys. She had to use all her skills to escape her dangerous situation. Words were her only weapon against these five guys. But she was fighting a losing battle.

"Well," you have to pay the price," Darius said eventually. "Terrell, let the lady out."

Terrell, the guy who had spotted her first, opened the door. She knew what they wanted. She worried they would drag her out of the car, so she got out voluntarily. She did her best not to make her short skirt hike up as she stood by the car. Their eyes roamed hotly over her body. Frantically, she looked around one last time. No one was in sight. She was on her own.

"Listen," she said hurriedly to Darius. "Don't rush things before you know your options."

"Oh, yeah," said Darius.

"We can do this in two ways," she said, negotiating for time. "It's not often you get someone like me down here, and you should get the most out of it."

Darius looked at her. His expression was neutral, but he was listening.

"Either you can drag me off somewhere and do whatever you intend to me." She could hardly believe she was saying something like this. "Or we can do it the easy way. I go with you willingly and try my best with each one of you to give you a nice time."

"However," she held up a finger, "it will be only once each and one at a time."

"Oh, really?" Darius said, looking dubious. "Why should we not just do with you as we want?"

"Look at me," she said. "It will be very well worth it if I play along and do everything I can to make it nice for you." Her heart was thumping hard. She felt unreal that she was making this kind of bargain. Not more than minutes earlier, she had been on her way home from work as usual. Now, she was trapped on a deserted backstreet and was bartering using her body. But she felt she had to do this to survive the next few hours.

One of the guys snickered. Darius silenced him with a wave of his hand. He looked younger and was smaller than the others. He had been noisiest in making comments about her. She understood he was the last in the pecking order and was compensating by being the loudest. Denise had heard one of the others call him Hakeem.

"Everything?" Darius asked.

"Everything," she said. Her mouth felt bone dry. She locked eyes with Darius, seeing how he was evaluating her. She was trembling from fear, and she hoped it did not show.

"All right," he said and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Show us what you got."

"Well, bloody hell not here," she said. She was used to negotiating and knowing when to tread easy and when to put her foot down to get what she wanted.

"Come on then," Darius said. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the building they had been coming from.

She began reluctantly walking toward the building. She felt their eyes roam over her slim body. She was careful how she looked, being picky about food. She also went to the gym at least twice weekly, often three or sometimes four times. Regular visits to a hairdresser and beauty parlors ensured she always looked her best.

Darius was in the lead, and she followed. The other four trailed after her when they walked to the nearby building. She felt stiff but tried to relax, willing her hips to sway as she walked. She knew they were checking out her ass and legs. Her spiked heels sounded loud on the uneven asphalt. Her purse and computer bag were still in the car, and she hoped they would not steal them. She did not care about the purse. But there was a ton of stuff on her sleek, glossy laptop that would be difficult to replace.

Her knees trembled as they walked, and she hoped it did not show.

The building turned out to be an abandoned warehouse. There was unmistakable evidence they used it to hang out. In one corner, an old rundown couch and a group of armchairs were standing in an uneven circle. The guys spread out, leaving her in the middle. A couple of them sat down, all looking at her with excitement and expectations.

Her mouth had gotten a metallic taste, and her stomach quivered. She felt she had never been this scared before in her whole life. But simultaneously, she knew she had to look strong and keep being in the lead. They might rape her to death otherwise.

She looked at the dirty concrete floor.

"This is filthy," she said. Consciously, she tried not to nervously clear her throat before speaking.

She looked at Hakeem and gambled. "There is a blanket in the trunk of my car. Why don't you get it for me?" she asked.

Hakeem looked pissed, but when Darius nodded a silent approval, he did as he was told. She felt awkward and self-conscious while they waited. It had to be close to a hundred degrees in the building. She was sweating. No one said anything, but she could feel them wanting her. They were like a pack of hungry wolves surrounding her.

The guys were talking among themselves, and she had a chance to look at them better. She heard that the tall, skinny guy was called Trevon. There was also a tall and muscular guy. She guessed about 250 pounds and hardly any fat. He was massive. She heard them call him Malik. He looked scariest of them all.

Hakeem came back and handed her the blanket. She spread it out on the floor in the middle of the uneven circle of young men.

She felt more nervous and self-conscious than ever. She could not back out of her promises without getting hurt badly. She saw the unmasked lust on their faces. If she tried to run, they would catch her in seconds. She gathered her courage and began twirling around, showing them her sexy body. She had an irrational feeling that if there had been music, it would have made it easier.

Denise was inexperienced in doing stripteases. She had done it a few times but only in the privacy of her home. One time, she had done it in front of an audience, and it had been at a bachelorette party. There had been about ten girls in a penthouse suite. There had been a male stripper, and after he had left, the girls had started doing stripteases. Everybody had been drunk and egged each other on. It had been crazy lewd and hot. One girl had even fucked herself with a beer bottle. They had continued partying in the nude, and girls had fallen asleep all over the place. At breakfast, everybody agreed Denise had been doing the hottest striptease. She had felt so embarrassed about her friends' appreciation.

Terrell made a catcall when she started unbuttoning her blouse. More approving hoots when she unbuttoned it to her waist and pulled up her blouse. They cheered when she showed them her lace bra beneath. Somehow, it made her feel better as she gyrated around, revealing more of her tight body. She handed Trevon her blouse. He surprised her when he folded it before putting it down. She felt a sliver of hope that she might come out of this experience alive.

There were more catcalls. Several rubbed their crotches as she teasingly pulled up her skirt. She was showing more of her long legs. There were approving noises when they saw that her sexy panties matched her bra. They all had a look on their faces that she was too good to be true. But, strangely enough, it encouraged her.

Hands went inside their pants when she began undoing her bra. Sweat was trickling down her body from heat and tension. She knew she looked hot, and it propelled her forward. She unsnapped her bra, peeled down the shoulder straps, and held the cups over her boobs with her hands. Terrell had pulled out his cock. It looked big, and he was stroking it in plain sight of everyone. Their unmasked admiration washed over her. Somehow, it pushed away her dread. Instead, she felt sexy and wanted. She felt her almost overpowering feeling of fear diminish a bit. She checked Darius, as it was most important to see how he reacted. He was oddly passive and seemed to make catcalls only for show.

She moved between Malik and Trevon and got them to take hold of one shoulder strap each. She backed up again, and her bra was hanging between their hands. There was a roar of approval when they saw her boobs. She knew she had a hot body but was most proud of her swelling boobs. A while later, there was an even louder roar when they saw her bald pussy. Both Trevon and Hakeem had their cocks out.

She wet two fingers and pushed them into her pussy. Lewd comments rained over her. She knew it would be easier if she were wet when they got down to business, so she ignored them. Terrell had a big cock, and Hakeem also had a surprisingly large cock for being so young. Trevon's cock was slimmer but quite long. It looked to be at least eleven inches. She had never fucked with such a long cock before, and she worried it would be excruciating. The guys were in turmoil. She felt a renewed tense feeling as she lay down on the blanket. She steeled herself and motioned that she was ready for the first guy. She kept her thighs wide open and diddled her clit with her index finger. It was best to make her pussy as prepared as possible for the first black cock. She still had her pumps and her skirt bunched up around her waist.

She was not surprised when it was Terrell who stood up, pulled down his baggy shorts, and stepped out of them. She heard Hakeem shout at Terrell to fuck the shit out of the white horny bitch. She ignored him and focused on Terrell. Things could still get out of hand, and she could be hurt badly. He got down on his knees between her spread thighs. His cock looked bigger up close, and she bit her lip. She was not on the pill, and he had no condom. She knew asking him to be careful and pull out was useless. She had no choice but to accept the situation. Thinking fast, she remembered she should have her period soon, so it should be safe. But she still did not like it. There was no telling what other things she might catch from him.

Terrell might be noisy and eager, but he was gentle when he took possession of her. Hakeem was shouting that Terrell should fuck the shit out of her, but neither of them paid him any attention. He spat in his hand and worked it into his cock before lying on top of her. She gasped when he entered her. He was big, but it went surprisingly easy to take his cock. He lay down on her and began fucking her with slow, powerful strokes. Both were conscious that they were performing in front of an audience. All the guys were hooting and urging them on.

Terrell rose on his hunches. He pulled up the front of his baggy T-shirt and peeled it behind his head so it hung on his shoulders and back. She had seen that it was popular among Black guys in porno flicks. He took hold of her swelling boobs with both hands. He was rough but not painful in manipulating them.

"Come on," he wheezed at her. "Show us you were serious when you said you would give us a good time."

Denise bit her lip and felt very self-conscious. But she felt things could still get out of hand. She had to deliver on her promise. Tentatively, she fucked her hips up against his cock. After a few strokes, she had more determination in her movements. There were renewed approval calls from their audience. Hakeem shouted that he could not almost believe his eyes that the hot slut wanted to fuck for real. She started to dislike the brat intensely. Under other circumstances, she would likely slap him in the face because of the things he said.

Bit by bit, it went easier. She moved her hips against his cock with more and more determination. Terrell was playing with her boobs. He surprised her when he leaned down over her and kissed her. Her first impulse was to twist her head to the side to escape. She strongly felt an aversion to being intimate with him. But her second thought was that it was good to make out as he was much less likely to hurt her if they were intimate. She made her lips soft and opened her mouth. She felt his tongue worm into her mouth in search of hers. She got a second surprise when she felt a sharp pang of excitement in the pit of her stomach when their tongues met.

She caressed his shoulders. His skin was as sweaty as hers, and he was muscular. She realized that under other circumstances, she could enjoy having sex with him. The realization made her feel unreal. She felt her juices starting to flow, and she felt like she was in a dream. She was being gang-raped and was getting turned on. Hakeem shouted something stupid, and she felt irritated. He should learn to shut up when he has nothing useful to say.

They fucked more and more animated. She felt a growing excitement but also shame. She was turned on fucking with a total stranger while four others were around her. But she thought it would help her get through this nightmare. So, she pushed reason away and let her emotions take over.