Santa's Helper

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For those who have missed the first two chapters, I strongly recommend reading them first, it contains the descriptions and previous events that will allow this chapter to make sense. For brevity's sake, I'm going to omit re-creating the scene...

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I rolled over, my eyes wet, and my vision blurred. I was a sweaty mess on the bed, a despicable, shabby mattress stained with blood, something I couldn't identify, and now a mixture of the black man's semen and my own lubrication. A chill wind swept through the room, and I heard the unmistakable sounds of the man, my rapist, getting dressed. Along with the others who ventured inside from the cold. The broken window panes and the darkening breezes began to make me shiver. Or was that the adrenaline and fear of my situation? After a few sobs, I began to take stock.

I was able to move, I was able to breathe, and I wasn't in pain. Well, I had a certain soreness in my valley, but that was easily explained by the man who had just taken me against my will. My clothing, though, was in disarray, to be polite. Made of red satin, the circle skirt was wadded up and bunch about my waist, and my matching red satin blouse was ripped open down the front, the small pearl buttons scattered everywhere. My bra, of course, was not present, and my c-cup breasts were covered in a mix of deep, bruised marks from the man sucking my skin and biting, and from the smaller, more numerous purplish bruises of his fingers mauling me. I could feel a smearing of the semen and my juices between my closed thighs, and the cold wind was caressing my body, rapidly cooling me off, and replacing the post-coital glow with a shivering. Men's voices were nearby, and I could not forget the three men who had come in, and evidently watched a first-rate pornographic scene right in front of them, as the black thug had made me writhe under him while taking me for all I was worth. The voices were rather indistinct, though, partly because I felt a ringing in my ears, the normal consequence of having such a strong sexual exertion. The math was simple, two orgasms, plus physical exhaustion from the man's fornicating with me, and I was dazed.

But I wasn't out of it. So it was with some small resistance I was able to at first shake away the hand that reached for my arm. The hand was insistent, however, and joined by a second, and I was yanked back over, and onto my back. I looked around the room and saw the thug leaning in a corner, relaxed, looking on casually as my new tormentors took a growing interest in me. Or rather, in my body. They were Hispanic, or so they looked to me, and older. They spoke Spanish, to which I understood next to nothing, and as hands began to paw at me, and fondle my body, I tried to slap them away. My voice cried out in a shrill wail.

"You are just going to let them do this?" I cried to the thug. "We had a deal!"

He snorted a reply. "I left you unhurt... Not my problem if they want my sloppy seconds, whitebread." And he sidestepped and left the room, leaving me to the lustful desires of three homeless men.

Their scent was overpowering. Unwashed, a mix of grime, sweat, and that musky scent of men who haven't bathed in heaven knows how long. I gagged as one of them planted his lips to mine, and my eyes began to water from his odors. I struggled with a renewed vigor, and once even got a hand free, but the placement of one man's knees between mine kept me from getting very far.

Words were uttered, and while I didn't understand them, I understood what they were going to do. With hands and arms, the flipped me over, and a pair of hands grabbed my hips, and lifted me up onto my knees. My face remained planted in the mattress for only a short while, before the smell made me instinctively raise up on my hands as well. It was when I was up on all fours, that I felt it, the penetration of my pussy from one of the men. I have no idea who the man could have been, I never got a really great look at any of them. With the electricity undoubtedly cut off, there was no light to be had, and as night fell, I was lost in the inky blackness of the room, and my fears. And as before, with the first full sliding of that cock into my body, I gasped, and wailed...

The man did not take long, and it was with a huge relief, he pulled out. I could not really see what was going on around me, other than some ghostly shapes, and an odd reflection here and there, but I had a pair of hands on my wrists, and a pair on my hips. It was then my biggest fear was realized. The man behind me had taken his cock from my swollen, lubricated folds, and used my juices against me, and tried to force his way into my ass. I resisted him, yelping as he tried to push the head of his cock up my rectum, until I felt the stinging slap of his hand on my butt. It was more than a slap, it was the harsh spank of a man against a woman, and as he did it, somehow perversely it made me relax, even as I cried out, the burning warmth of my butt-cheek somehow competing for the burning heat of his cock forcing my ass open. He pushed, first popping inside one of my anal rings, and then the other, until I was now open to him,, and he began to push, a long, hard thrust to feed his cock into my body.

I had a fleeting thought that at least the good news was he wasn't hung like the black guy who took me first. But the thought was fleeting, and he began to thrust. Hard.

It took him several tries, but he finally managed to make me fall flat on my face on the bed, his knees between mine, and as I landed, I let out a feminine grunt. Nothing was able to break my fall, as the helpful hands on my wrists had pulled them forward, and making me fall in the first place. I was flat on the bed, my skirt up on my back, and my blouse open and exposing my bare chest to the mattress. I was crying now, with each thrust, the voice of passion mixed with the pain of anal rape, and as much as I was in fear, I soon found to my horror that it would get worse.

With the jabbering they were doing, it was like they were discussing something, and a few moments later, I discovered what it was. With a grunt and some applied physics, the man on top of me rolled over, and was able to roll me with him, the other four hands helping me around, until my full weight was upon the guy. My legs were splayed widely, outside his, and his hands reached up from below and began to molest my breasts. He pinched my nipples, and twisted them, each time making me wince and yelp in pain. The only plus side was that while his cock was still buried inside me, at least he wasn't thrusting. But that, too, would change.

I felt, rather than saw, the next man in line climb aboard the mattress, his body hovering atop mine for a long second, before I felt his cock begin to probe for my opening. It was then I began to really panic, and thrash about. Arms, legs, twisting and turning, I did everything I could. My eyes were wide open, yet I could see little, and as I thrashed about, a pair of hands grabbed my wrists, again, one at a time, and pull them, hard, this time, over my head. I cried out as I was suddenly restrained. As the man pushing to my vagina finally found my opening, that cry turned into a wail, the higher, louder, and more guttural expression of a woman in passion. Then as he shoved his cock easily into my pussy, the man below me began to thrust, in the limited fashion he could, and soon both cocks were moving in me.

I didn't know what to do. Scream? Laugh? Cry? All I knew was that I was experiencing something new, and I was out of control with it. Two men, one woman, and I was in the middle. Pain and pleasure intermixed, and the sensations were unbelievable. It felt good. It hurt. I had a small climax. I was gasping for air as the two men took me, and my arms were held above by a third. I gave up trying to think about the future, there was only the here and now, and were it only the black thug and myself, I might have relaxed and really enjoyed him. Instead, I was a frenzy of feelings, gasping and writhing.

But even my gasping for air became short-lived. I saw the shadow before it loomed over my eyes, and suddenly all was in darkness as my vision was obscured by the third man, having started to lean forward and feed his cock to my mouth. I had nothing to resist him with, no strength, and no ideas. So I let my mouth be used, and use it he did. The grunting of the men, the muffled wailing of a woman continued for what seemed hours. The man on top, his cock firmly thrust into my tunnel, came first, and he squirted himself into me. This seemed to spur the man on under me, who by now had made an Olympic sport of torturing my nipples, and he began to buck. As the man on top dismounted me, his thrusts became so great that I began to feel my hips becoming slightly airborne. But he never got to finish. There was a loud rumble, it sounded like, and shouts and suddenly flashes of light. My face was suddenly awash in the flood of a flashlight, and then the other men were also illuminated. My prayers had finally been answered, and the police had come to save me!

There were yells and shouts, and a couple of odd, male voices with muffled grunts and groans, and suddenly I was draped in a yellow rescue blanket. I lay there, sobbing openly now, holding to the blanket with all my strength. It was my warmth, and my sanctuary. A gentle hand laid on my shoulder, and I screamed "No!" only to be greeted by the soothing voice of a woman. She was a police officer.

I was given some time, and then asked to walk downstairs, if I could, or they would have the ambulance carry me. The room was awash in flashlights now, police officers, and a few firemen, including one very kind man who took all the time I needed, gave me water, and watched over me, telling me in a certain voice it was over, and I was safe. I heard a loud male voice yell nearby, and then a thump and a oomph. Somebody was being silenced. Maybe it was for my benefit, I'll never know. But I made my way downstairs, wrapped in the yellow blanket, and then a thick white one, and as I was being seated in the ambulance, one of the police came to me and asked if I would identify one of the men who raped me. I simply nodded.

I looked out, and saw the man they paraded out, wearing handcuffs. His skin was dark, black as coal, and he had an ugly scar on his forehead and his cheek. Large almond-shaped eyes made him look particularly unattractive, and his skin was an oily sheen in the light. I looked at him, and I stared him in the eyes. Something unsaid was exchanged between us, and I shook my head. I was going to be his.