Donnas Busy Morning

Donna's Busy Morning

Or

Ominous Vans Always Have The Best Goodies

©2012 Daniel deLaire

It was seven o'clock on a Monday morning, and Donna was exhausted. The four-day home care shifts were taking their toll on her 35-year-old body, but with the economy being what it is, she takes whatever work she can get.

She felt she could stay up late last night, texting a man she barely knew, which had replied to an Internet personals ad she had posted. She felt groggy as she started her car, and was thankful she was headed home. She wanted a nap. Badly. She looked forward to a nice shower after waking up, and finally being able to shave after so many straight days being at the beck and call of the elderly.

Donna was not an unattractive woman, but she was a BBW, which meant that she was not attractive to most men. Her skin was pale and her shoulder length hair brown, a stunning contrast. She had a cute little tattoo on her leg. Her medical scrubs were not the most flattering outfit for her to be seen in; spaghetti straps and shorts suited her better. Her shoulders were perfect, and her legs were the sort any self-respecting male would be pleased to have wrapped around him.

She was a mile down the road when she noticed she was beginning to nod off.

"Coffee" she thought to herself. It was a long drive home.

She pulled into the Casey's parking lot. Busy as hell. Great. She had to park on the side of the store, next to some shitbox old van.

She went in and poured her coffee. The line was so long that she had already drunk half of it before she paid for it. She got a pack of Pell Mells to go with and left the store. She got into her car, put her coffee in the cup holder, and lit a cigarette. She was already feeling re-energized. She was halfway through her cigarette when the side door on the rust bucket van opened up and man crawled out, stretching and yawning. Apparently, he lived in the van. Donna hoped he wouldn't notice her and ask her for change or anything, but it was already too late. Thankfully, he only wanted a light for his cigarette.

The man was around her age, and upon closer inspection really didn't seem the "homeless" type. He smelled of Gendarme rather than the God knows what she had expected him to reek of.

His name was Daniel, and he turned out to be rather articulate. He was about her age, average build. He wore a pair of new blue jeans and one of those wife beater tank tops that were so popular. His hair smelled of pomade and was perfectly styled; it reminded her of Al Pacino's hairstyle from the second Godfather movie. He sported a well-trimmed beard with no sideburns. Altogether, not an unattractive man. Donna would have been smitten were the man leaning against a Harley-Davidson instead of a rusty Dodge van. His clothing seemed rather low rent compared to his mannerism and mode of speech. He explained that he Kerouaking his way across the country, something he had wanted to do since his college days and never got a chance to; life, career, and a marriage had gotten in the way. Now that he had his chance, he was seizing it.

For reasons unknown to her, Donna was intrigued with this man and his strange pilgrimage across the country. She got out of her car and lit another cigarette. They continued to talk, and she found herself starting to get sleepy again. She wanted another coffee. Before she knew it, the conversation was over and she was on her back inside of this strange man's van. With his one hand he covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming, and with the other, he closed the side door of the van, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to him.

After the door had closed, he produced a rather large hunting knife and pressed its cold steel against her cheek.

"This is how it's going to work, luv" He explained "I'm going to take my hand off your mouth and you're not going to scream. If I hear so much as a peep out of that pretty little moth of yours"

He dragged the sharp end of the knife gently across her cheek, just how a barber would shave a man with a straight razor. She could feel the drag of what she knew was a very sharp knife. His point was made.

"I'll slice you a Julia Roberts smile. Dig?

She nodded her head. She dug.

He cautiously removed his hand from her mouth.

"Turn over onto your belly" He commanded.

Donna turned over onto her belly with the man's assistance.

"Get your arms behind your back"

Donna moved her hands behind her back. The minute she did she felt cold steel encircle her left wrist, then her right, and heard the signature sound of a policeman's best equipment. Daniel double locked her handcuffs and helped her to a sitting position as best he could without hurting her. She was grateful he wasn't rough.

"What do you want?" she asked softly, fighting back tears.

"What do you think I want? You're a woman, I'm a man." He replied, matter of factly. "As long as you behave yourself, don't fight, and above all don't scream, Mr. Slicey doesn't come out to play, and you get to keep that pretty face of yours. This will be over in a few hours."

It was as though Daniel could read her thoughts. Just as Donna realized she was in a parking lot full of people, and this man would not dare hurt her, she felt a rubber ball being shoved into her mouth as soon as she had opened it to scream. It was attached to a leather strap, and he buckled it into place behind her head. She realized that all was lost, and began to cry uncontrollably.

When she opened her eyes, Mr. Slicey was about an inch from her face, and was being held by a very angry looking kidnapper.

"Now what did I tell you, bitch? Shut up. Just shut the fuck up or I'll cut you," the man said, calmly and quietly.

Donna realized that this was neither the time nor the place to resist – she would probably have a chance later. She did her very best to calm down and do as Daniel asked.

"Good cunt" Daniel "complimented. He put his knife in the sheath attached to his belt, a brown leather sheath that bore such a contrast to his blue jeans that she wondered why she had failed to see it when she was talking to the man.

He climbed into the driver seat, started the van, and backed out of the spot. She could feel the van enter the road, and they drove for what must have been at least a half an hour before she felt the van turning off the road. The bumpy ride suggested that he was driving her to the middle of a field.

During the long ride, Donna calmed herself as much as she could, thinking about what she would do when the van finally stopped. She settled on a kick in the balls to throw her kidnapper off his balance and drive his van to the police station. If he gave her any trouble, he and Mr. Slicey could get better acquainted.

The bumping continued for several minutes. Finally they reached what felt like smooth, level ground, and the van's brakes squealed to a gentle halt. Donna scrunched up, ready to stand and deliver, as it were. She heard the transmission clunk into park, the sound of the parking brake being applied, and then engine diesel a little before it finally stopped.

"Hey, Dan-o! What's doin'?" Asked a voice outside of the van.

"Shit" she thought, "There's more"

"Hey boys, bring those leg irons and see what I got here!"

Donna heard what sounded like three other men outside of the van, whooping and yelping. She realized that she was about to live every woman's worst nightmare.

Her captor got out of the van as one of the other men opened the side door.

"Wow, Danny, you do love them fat ones!"

"Fat?!?" she thought "Well, fuck you, too. Asshole"

"All right, easy mates" Daniel said as he made his way through the men. "What'd YOU boys catch?"

Sheepish murmuring followed, to which Daniel replied, "That's what I thought. If you don't like her, don't fuck her. More pussy for me"

Daniel looked directly at Donna, grabbed her ankles, and slid her swiftly to the edge of the van door, so that her feet were just out of the van. He grabbed her right leg, pushed up the bottom of her scrubs pants, and pulled her sock down to the top of her tennis shoe. She felt cold steel encircle her ankle. He then bared her left ankle, spread her legs, and the same cold steel sensation surrounded her left ankle. Donna found that the restraint on her legs made it impossible for her to clench them together. Subtle, these boys.

"Right, then, luv. Upsie-daisy!" Daniel said as he and another man pulled her out of the van and stood her up on her feet, her legs spread wide and her hands cuffed behind her back.

"HELP!!!! HELP!!!! RAPE!!!" Donna screamed at the top of her lungs. They could kill her for all she cared. She wasn't going to let a gang of men rape her.

"HELP! RAPE!" Daniel screamed, and began laughing. "Scream all you want, luv, nobody can hear you. This is happening whether you like it or not."

The rest of them joined in laughing at her as they dragged her to a cleared spot on the bare ground. The man who stood behind her unlocked her left handcuff, and she began to flail her arms wildly, swinging at everything that moved. The men simply backed off; soon enough Donna lost her balance and landed squarely on her ass. The men laughed at her again.

"Oi, we got ourselves a fighter, we have! Damn it, Dan-o, how do you get 'em so riled?

"I was actually very nice to her, I thought. You going to behave yourself, luv?"

"Fuck you, motherfucker." Donna spat. "I'm calling two people when I get out of here. The cops and my biker friends. And you're gonna fuckin die, motherfuckers! The only question is whether you get arrested first or not!"

"Oooo...feisty" Daniel mocked. One of the men grabbed the free handcuff attached to her right arm, and one of the others attached one to her left wrist. They dragged her into the center of the bare circle and forced her onto her back. There were four posts on the outer ends of the circle, each with a metal ring attached to it.

Donna continued to scream for help at the top of her lungs, until she was exhausted. She struggled against the men who were attempting to chain her down to rape her, and found it to be of no use. There were just too many and they were just to strong. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began to sob. Softly at first, then she began to bawl openly.

Donna found herself handcuffed to the two posts closest to her wrists, and her legs were fastened to the bottom poles with a chain and a lock. Donna was firmly chained to the ground, and began to realize the hopelessness of her situation.

After she was fastened to the ground, Daniel reappeared with his knife.

"Remember Mr. Slicey, doll? Mr. Slicey's a little upset with you. You promised him you'd shut the fuck up, and he doesn't like it when people break promises they've made to him. Now be a good little porker and tell him you're sorry"

Donna tried to respond, her mouth moved but no sound came out.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Slicey says he can't hear you. We all heard you fine from the time you arrived here."

She was desperate to say something, anything. She could not. Fear and anger paralyzed her vocal cords, and her diaphragm to an extent. She had enough trouble breathing.

"Well, I guess she ain't sorry. Now Mr. Slicey's gonna make you sorry."

Daniel closed in on her face with the knife in his hand. It seemed like a miracle, but words started to form, and her voice began to carry them.

"I...I...I'm...I'm sorry, Mr. Slicey. Believe me, I am"

Daniel stopped and looked at the knife, as though he expected a response.

"Mr. Slicey really wants to believe you. He's going to have to see you naked first, you know, show your sincerity and all"

Donna was past crying and screaming at this point. She knew she was going to be gang-raped, and she suspected they were cruel enough to allow her to live afterwards.

Daniel moved the knife under her clothes and sliced them from her body with near perfect precision. It rather reminded her of seeing someone's clothes cut off in the ER. The cold steel of the knife moved up each leg in turn, up to the elastic waistband of her scrub pants. Her plain white panties were split at the hip, and peeled off of her with haste.

With the same attention to detail, he removed her top, pulling it away as soon as it would yield. The feel of the knife in the middle of her chest was only for a second, as it snipped the cotton fabric that held the two cups together, but it gave her a brief start. The straps cut like string, and thus Donna found herself completely naked in the dirt, tied down flat on her back, and in position for these strangers to have their way with her.

Daniel got up and started stripping; he was apparently first. He told the others to work out who was going to be next.

Donna wondered what would make Daniel resort to such a thing as rape; he was a handsome man, could be charming, and his body was very nice. Had they met in a bar, he would have stood a very good chance of taking her home. As he knelt between her legs, she noticed he was already rock hard, and his cock was enormous. Not comic book ridiculous huge, but certainly bigger than any she had ever seen in person. As angry as she was at him for placing her in such a terrifying situation, she almost felt bad that she was going to have him sent to prison.

Before she knew what was happening, Donna become more personally acquainted with Daniel's cock. He wasted no time forcing it into her quivering pussy which, surprisingly, was already very wet.

"Ah...yeah. You're tight, baby," Daniel said as his cock made its way to her cervix.

Daniel began to gently kiss her on the lips while he ran his greedy hands all over her body. He them moved on to his tongue, licking her across face. He kissed her shoulders and upper arms as he breathed with arrogant satisfaction. Then he buried in his tongue in the sweaty stubble in her armpit. This seemed to be what thrilled him the most, and embarrassed her the worst; she hadn't had a chance to shave in four days.

Daniel then moved on to her large, heavy breasts. Squeezing them, licking them, suckling her nipples. That he was being so sweet as he raped her prone body sickened her all the more, and it began to stir a reaction she hadn't expected. Donna's pussy tightened involuntarily, and her body began to tingle with a familiar sensation. Donna was beginning to cum.

The more Donna tried to fight the orgasm, the more control it exerted over her body. Her hips began to shake, her vaginal walls went through the normal contractions, and waves of orgasm pounded her prone body. It wasn't long before Daniel's cock responded in kind; she felt the shaft begin to swell inside of her, expanding and contracting in time with the contractions of her pussy around it, working in unison to pump her rapist's seed into her womb, surges of his semen splashing against the wall of her cervix.

Daniel completed his orgasm as Donna's began to subside, and he left his cock in her pussy to soften. For as much as she just wanted his dick out of her body, she found it strangely comforting, and began to revel slightly in the warm afterglow they had produced, before the feelings of sickness that accompanied violation began to take hold of her again, exacerbated by the knowledge that she had just experienced orgasm at the hands of her rapist.

It was made worse by the others who were looking on, cheering. They saw her cum, they saw her enjoy it. It encouraged them. There were catcalls of "whore", "slut", and the like.

Daniel climbed off of her without a word, and motioned the next to assume his position on top of her, and the process began afresh. His dick was not as big as Daniel's, but it felt about the same; a dick she didn't want inside of her was violating her most sensitive and private of areas.

One by one they kept coming, a smorgasbord of unwanted, criminal intercourse. Semen was leaking out of her vagina like a faucet, and none of them seemed sickened by this. They just kept coming, one at a time, poking, ejaculating, fondling, raping. There were grunts of pleasure, and grunts of insult. Donna heard such things as "Take it, bitch". And "cum for me, slut". She was called a "cum dumpster" several times. She was even spit on a couple of times. Donna had never felt so violated, so helpless, so low. When the last of the four were done, Donna felt herself heave a sigh of relief. It was over. They were sated.

"Don't relax yet, beautiful. It's going to be a few more rounds." Daniel said, white a bit arrogant smile on his face. "At least"

Donna felt as though the wind had been pulled out of her sails. This was truly the worst day of her life. She began to sob again, quietly, as Daniel began to mount her again, thus beginning a new rotation of rapists.

"Yeah, cry for me" Daniel said sadistically, as he licked the tears off of her cheeks. "Your tears sustain me. Now fuck for me, whore! Remember, you asked for it!"

At that statement, Donna began to slip into a state not quite awake, and not quite asleep, though she felt she might pass out at any minute, as her body went into orgasm again and lasted. The orgasm had taken over her body, the most intense she had ever felt. Donna literally felt like she was having her brains fucked out. Her thoughts focused on Daniel's last statement; that she had asked for it. Donna wasn't sure how, but she felt he was right. She felt almost a memory, a suggestion, that this was indeed what she wanted. The men kept coming, but it was all a blur. Her orgasm never subsided. She watched the sun change positions in the sky as though it were a steady, slow movement. By the time they finished, the sun had moved from rising, to overhead, to a little after.

Donna could not move as the chains were removed from her wrists and ankles. Daniel dropped a plastic shopping back next to her inert body and ordered her to get dressed. As though moved by some force other than her own will, Donna complied, and put on the clothes provided for her. A tank top, shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. She was hustled to the passenger seat of the van and seat belted in.

The drive back to Casey's was still a blur, but her senses began returning. Before she knew it, Donna saw the familiar sight of her car, parked where she had left it.

Daniel helped her out of the van and into her car. The door to her car was open as Daniel was rummaging through her purse.

"Great" Donna though, "Now the fucker's going to rob me, too"

Daniel fished Donna's driver's license from her wallet; alleviating the suspicion that she was being robbed, and replacing it with a sense of foreboding. He now knew who she was and where she lived. Daniel held the license just a few inches from her face, to show her what he had.

"You may think you know who we are, but we KNOW who you are, Donna." Daniel stated. "And we're not the only ones you have to worry about, so you can forget about any cops or bikers. Someone will find you, so keep your mouth shut. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, I understand" Donna replied weakly. They were going to get away with it after all.

Daniel walked back to the van, got in, and drove away. Donna wondered if she would ever see the man again.

She went back into the store, used the bathroom, and bought a large bottle of malt liquor, for reasons she did not know – Donna preferred wine coolers. She supposed she needed a good belt after this morning.

She got into her car and opened the bottle. She drank deeply, draining half the bottle before she placed it between her legs and lit a cigarette. She started the car and headed home.

On the drive home, her head began to clear. The post hypnotic suggestions left by her Master began to fade as planned, and she smiled. She brought the car to a halt and saw the beat-up Dodge van she had bought Master for their anniversary, and her heart began to beat excitedly. She walked hurriedly into the house to find a familiar bearded Man at the kitchen table with a can of Pepsi in front of him. He got up to greet her, and they embraced and kissed deeply.