Whatever It Takes Pt. 02 - Monday

He pulled out another thick joint for us to smoke. This was some strong stuff, I don't think I have ever smoked anything that strong, or maybe I had forgotten what pot felt like. We finished the second one right down to the stub. By the time we finished it, Michael had his hand under my tank top and was rubbing my right breast.

"What is this?" he said holding up his moist hand.

I started to giggle and it evolved into a drunken laugh. "That's mother's milk." Somehow I found that even funnier and broke into more laughter. He smiled, licked his hand, and resumed fondling my breasts.

It was getting late, maybe 6 pm, and I was totally wasted. Michael knew this and was taking advantage of the fact. He had his hands all over me, and I was far too gone to object. In fact, I was only semi-conscious of what was going on. Furthermore, I was sexually aroused - my nipples were erect, I was flushed, and I could feel heat between my legs and began to slowly move my hips so that the thong would rub my clitoris. By now Michael had pushed up the tank top and exposed my breasts, the nipples of which were swollen to well over half an inch.. He was rubbing my boobs with his tongue down my throat. He pinched the nipples, and they got even longer and harder. My areolas were fire engine red and slick with milk and his saliva.

Several of the people in the room noticed and smiled. I was too drunk or drugged to care. I began to think that this was a great adventure on an exotic island. Nothing like booze and pot to make everything look right.

Just about then Patrick came over to us with a drink which we had not ordered. "Elaine, this is for you. Try a strawberry daiquiri" he said. Then he handed it to me while openly staring at my exposed breasts.

"Thaaank yoooou," was all I could manage to say, but I was grateful for the interruption. My head was spinning, and I kept having this sensation that I was floating on the ceiling.

"Thanks," I said and began to drink the fruit-flavored concoction. It was strong, probably over 100 proof, but I was flying high and took it down fast. When I was finished, Patrick smiled, took the glass, and walked away.

Michael reached down to his lap, moved his hand, and then his dick popped clear. Suddenly, I was looking at a very long, thick prick. I thought maybe the stories of blacks having bigger dicks than whites were true. He gave me a big smile and guided my hand up and down on it as it stuck out of his pants. Several people had gathered in front of us, comments were made on the size of both his exposed penis and my tits. This public display brought me momentarily to my senses. From the corner of my eye, I caught Patrick standing to the side enjoying the spectacle and still eyeing me like a piece of meat.

"Michael, I need to go back to the hotel," I blurted out. I was so high and horny that the words came out slurred, probably unintelligible or like a woman saying "no" and meaning "yes." I could feel the strength leaving my body and knew that, if I were ever to make it to the door, I had to move then. I pushed away from him and tried to stand up. Not confined by the tank top, my breasts tumbled and bounced every which way. Several people laughed, and one guy whistled.

"It looks like I am going to have to stop playing with you," I heard him whisper as he stepped behind me.

Without warning, he dug his thumbs painfully into my shoulder blades. I yelped and curled my shoulders backwards. That thrust my naked breasts forward, arching out like a bow. My breasts swung loose and quivering. The crowd must have thought it was part of a show - more applause and more whistles. I caught sight of Camille in the crowd. She was still smiling that enigmatic smile.

"How do you like this?" he said. He wrenched my shoulders back again with this thumbs. This time my head jerked back against him, my breasts arching even further out.

"Please let me go," I said quietly, ever the middle class American woman trying to avoid a scene. I felt as if his fingers were going to press into my body and come out the front.

"Do you want me to break your back," Patrick demanded.

"No, nooooo," I sobbed while trying to adjust to the pain.

"You will walk with me out of this room. No fuss, understand?"

I nodded, very confused, disoriented, and, now, afraid. He grabbed my arm and pulled me with him. I struggled weakly for a moment and then all resistance ceased. I felt so weak. Michael put his arm around me and led me away from the front door and down a hallway. We entered a large room with a view of the jungle-covered hills. A king sized bed dominated the room. There were lights on tripods around the room, the sort of paraphernalia that you would expect in a photography studio. The lights were not on since from the west the setting sun forcing a stream of natural light into the room.

He stopped me in the middle of the room and began to massage my back. Patrick traced his fingers over the ridges his thumbs had made in my back. He then rubbed his palms coarsely over her back as though to reward me for my obedience in coming to this room. Patrick chuckled as he felt me cringe under his questing fingers as his hands trailed down my back to my hips and then cupped my ass.

"You like this, don't you? And you want some more, don't you?" he demanded threateningly.

"Please, no more. Let me go," I said. Now I was very afraid. The fear cut through the disassociation effect of the liquor and the weed.

He ignored me, led me to the bed and laid me on my back. My limp body lay there, arms and legs askew, with my miniskirt around my waist and my thong-covered crotch exposed. I was vaguely aware that Michael was disrobing. When he was naked, he crawled over me on the bed. He removed the tank top from around my neck and moved his lips to my right nipple. As he sucked the areola into his mouth, I could feel my mother's milk shoot into his mouth. He concentrated on draining me without being gentle - several times I felt his teeth biting down gently while demonstrating what could happen if I did not cooperate.

"Mother's milk! You really are something, Elaine. This is going to be a great fuck!"

He rolled over to my other breast and repeated the process. I sensed how turned on he was.

What I wanted to say to him was, "Please, Michael, I am married. Let me up. I must go back to the hotel." But what I did say, I am sure, was the unintelligible of a frightened human being that knew she had crossed a line and was scared of the consequences.

I tried to push him off me but was as helpless as a rag doll. I prayed that I might collapse into total unconsciousness, but I did not.

He ignored me and ripped the thong off me like it was paper and inserted three fingers of his right hand in my vagina, rubbing my clit with the in-out motion of his hand. He wouldn't stop. I could not get away. Fog now crept in and swirled around my mind. He was hurting me, and the grating penetration went on and on. Still I could not think coherently.

"Elaine, relax! You nearly fucked me on the sofa in front of the whole crowd. Now we have privacy, and you can let go. American women will not fuck in public. Now we are alone."

He then reached over to the night table, grabbed a capsule of some sort, broke it, and put it under my nose to breathe in. I felt like the top of my head would come off. The combined effect of booze, pot, and now this amphetamine was too much. I was floating in a fog, and my body was on fire.

Michael reached down, unzipped my skirt, and pulled it down while keeping his

tongue down my throat and one hand pulling my nipples, first one breast and then the other. I lay immobile, spread out on the bed. My breasts heaved with my labored breathing, and I was perspiring profusely. My mind struggled for control of the situation. It was futile and too late. I closed my eyes and willed myself to pass out, to go somewhere else in my mind but right here. But that was not to be.

I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I found myself staring straight up at Michael's throbbing penis. It was stiff as a poker and jutted now over my face as Michael knelt over me.

"Like it?" he hissed threateningly. He glared down at me and thrust his shaft forward to hover over my face. It was at least six or seven inches long with thick blue veins that culminated in a red bulbous head. All I could think was that now I have seen a 'unicorn', the term we used in college for a really long erected penis.

"Do you like it?" he muttered again, grasping my long hair and tugging my face toward his organ. "Bitch, tell me you want it!"

"Leave me alone," I exclaimed. In response, he pulled on my hair some more.

"OK, OK, whatever you want." He let go of my hair with a look of triumph on his face. I closed my eyes again, praying for unconsciousness. I felt his weight shift and he moved down the bed. I looked down between my breasts and saw him between my legs. Michael then grabbed the inside of my right knee and forced my leg at right angles to my body flat on the bed. He then raised my left leg in the air and held it there with his right shoulder. The position opened me wide open. He stared down at my cunt with its bikini wax pubic hair.

I closed my eyes again. When I opened them again, I saw Michael position his prick at the entrance to my cunt. His lust-swollen dick rubbing against my pussy. With a grunt he thrust himself forward and pushed into me.

"Noooooo, noooooo!," I screamed soundlessly. He put it in further. I could see him between my legs; I could feel him inside me. It hurt; my body had not lubricated itself.

"Elaine, maybe you were right. We shouldn't do this on our first date...what with you being married and all...what would your husband do if he found out?" He got it all out while still keeping the three inches in me. He was teasing me, and we both knew it. I was too far gone to care.

"Get off me," was what I wanted to say. What I heard me say was an unintelligible grunt.

Michael pushed further and I saw his prick bury itself in me. By now I was beginning to lubricate, and it went right in to the hilt. He held my legs wide with his hands and began to fuck in and out very slowly. His balls smacked heavily against my upturned ass. I stared up at Michael as he skewered me on his rampaging cock. My breasts were shaking like bowls of gelatin as he increased his pace, all the time holding my legs in that wide open position and skewering me with rapid thrusts. My body felt as if his dick was coming out my throat. The tight wet walls of my cunt clasped him like a glove. In my drug-induced state I could see and feel every ridge line in his dick. He continued his rhythmic thrusts. My head lolled mindlessly from side to side as my hips rolled beneath his impaling rod. Sweat broke out all over my body; thin rivulets rolled down the cleavage of my breasts. Consciousness came and went. I screamed inside my mind. Nothing came out. I tried to buck him off and out of me, but was too weak. He interpreted my vain attempt to expel him as arousal. In response, he increased his tempo.

Then he slowed, easing his cock back until only the crown was inside me, then sliding it smoothly back into me, all the while staring into my face. He picked up the pace, jabbing into me with increasing velocity. He pumped ruthlessly, drilling his prick into my cunt and crashing his balls against my ass. Michael's cock made a lewd squishing sound as it reamed me out.

Michael then paused, his dick half way in me. He reached down and began to probe the full length of my ass. What I thought was, "Oh, God, no, please..." But only a grunt emerged because the drug still had disconnected my mind from my body. A felt a sharp tip against my back passage. Suddenly, he shoved his middle finger brutally all the up into my rectum. "Oh, God, I can't stand it!" He wanted to hurt me now, subjugate so that I could not even resist in my own mind. Sadistically, he drove his dick back into me while twisting the finger in my ass.

"Fuck, Baby, fuck harder," he kept repeating. I was so far gone that I began to push back against his dick and his finger just to end it. He looked into my eyes and smiled.

"Once you've gone black, there is no going back," was all he said. The he laughed.

I moaned, and my hips moved by instinct, keeping up with and meeting his strokes. I remembered what one of my sorority sisters had told me - once a guy is inside you, it is too late to do anything other than to get him off and out of you. I followed her advice.

My motion became faster by the second, the tempo of my thrusts back at him more frenzied. I could hear the lewd sucking sound of his prick moving in and out. I kept my hips bucking, squeezing his prick for all I was worth, trying to push him over the edge or expel him from my body - and I no longer cared which.

Michael slowed his strokes and then quickened them again. Finally, he began to let himself go, gasping and groaning as his cock tensed inside me. He began to ejaculate, and I milked his cum with my twisting cunt. All the time he kept holding my legs open and kneeling there with a big smile on his face. At the end, he pulled his prick out and shot the remainder of his load on my stomach, just like a porn movie I once saw. We were both slick with sweat, almost as if our bodies had been doused with coconut oil. Then he pulled his finger out with a loud pop and jammed it into my mouth.

"Lick it clean," he commanded. And I did. I was scared and hurt - anything to end my debasement at his hands.

I lost track of things after that. The next thing that I remember is Michael straddling my stomach, pushing his dick between my breasts. I looked down and watched the bulbous head of his black prick between my tightly held tits. He began a rocking motion, sliding his blue veined cock faster and faster between my straining breasts. Spit even dripped from his wide open mouth, moistening the narrow valley and making the passage frictionless.

"Elaine, stick out your tongue. Lick my dick! Stay awake! Lick it!"

Somehow, it seemed like the right thing to do so I think I did. Then I must have passed out because I awakened with his fingers squeezing my nose closed. I tried to gasp for air through his hand.

"Bitch, you want air, then open your mouth."

"Mmmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmmmm!" I groaned desperately while holding my breath.

Michael laughed cruelly, watching my face turn crimson as I struggled to breathe through my nose and not open my mouth. Finally, my lungs screaming for oxygen and with his fingers still pinching my nose shut, my mouth popped open wide, sucking in great gulps of air.

"That's it," he said as he shoved his prick into my mouth. He rammed it deep, until he hit the back of my throat. I gagged, struggling again for oxygen with his fingers still pinching my nose and his prick filling my mouth, so air had to enter around his organ. I felt like I would suffocate. His pubic hairs grazed my lips while his slimy balls slapped lewdly against my chin. I was thankful when he went back to pushing his organ between my breasts, nestling it in my still open mouth on each up stroke. Whenever I went to close my mouth, his hand pinched my nostrils. In the end, I gave up. My mouth remained open, and he did what ever he wanted to do.

Soon I was bobbing my lips back and forth on the hardened organ as it emerged from my breasts. My hands were limp at my sides, and I simply lay there as though anaesthetized while he pumped his thick meat through my breasts into my mouth. Eventually, I felt his testicles begin to jerk, and he shot his load.

"Here you go, baby." The first squirt was a rope that connected my upper lip and my nose. I felt several more strands of thick goo on my face; one landed near my left eye. He then rubbed his wet prick on my face, and I could feel his sticky cum around my eyes and on my nose and cheeks.

I was drifting in and out of consciousness and reality. Had I just made love or had I just been raped? Who was this man who was slowly dressing while complementing me by saying 'Honey, you are a great fuck." I closed my eyes hoping that when I opened them this would all prove to be a bad dream.

I heard him open the door and say, "Gentlemen, come on in. She is all yours. You have 90 minutes to take the footage we need." I heard four or five men enter and Michael leave. Then all these lights came on, above and beside the bed. Suddenly, I was at the center of something special - I was a star!! At least that was what my addled brain told me. But I had enough sense left to say, "Leave me alone. I want to sleep." My words were not distinct as my speech was still confused. I still had not opened my eyes.

"Relax, Honey. Just breathe this in." I did not know who said it, but he grabbed me by the hair and held my head high. He then broke a capsule under my nose. Still responding to instructions, I breathed in the amphetamine and then my eyes popped open. I was flying again...around the room...on the ceiling looking down on five men, nude or undressing and soon-to-be-nude. Lights were everywhere including the ceiling. And there were cameras...one video recorder on a tripod and three others that looked like they were hand held. 'Panasonic' was the brand name featured on the cameras.

The other thing I notice was that all the men wore red ski masks and nothing else. I thought to myself, "How silly. Don't they realize we are in the tropics? The nearest ski resort was 1,500 miles to the north. And it was hot with all the lights on in the room. Why would they wear ski masks?" Later, I would realize that the ski masks protected their identities. I had no such protection and looked like what they most likely wanted to project...a housewife surprised by a gang of rapists and debased in her own bedroom by attackers she could never identify.

"We are wasting time. Who wants to fuck her first?"

"I'm ready," one said. Then he clambered onto the bed, pushed me back flat, and hoisted by legs up over his shoulders and rested on his knees. He pulled by ass up and to him. That brought his prick up to the entrance to my vulva. He edged forward and penetrated me for an inch or so.

"She is wet. Ready to go. Cameras! Action!"

I watched, but everything was in slow motion, like a movie when the sound and the video were out of synch. By the time I heard 'action' my assailant was thrusting deeply into my vagina. I was playing catch up. By the time I realized he was coming in, he was pulling out. He was in-and-out while I was thinking he was out-and-in. It made no difference, it just gave me something to muddle about while he fucked me. He completed cumming and withdrew before I framed the thought that he would soon cum. My mind was running ten seconds behind the action. I did not resist. I did not participate. I was the perfect cum-bucket. 'Fill me up, Boys!'

"Now let's make her air tight." One of the black men then lay on his back beside me. He had a semi-erect prick. He looked over at me and said, "Up on your knees. Kiss my dick all over. You want me hard, don't you?" His words were those of an adult, but his tone was that of a parent talking to a young child. For whatever reason, I just followed instructions, got to my knees, leaned over, and put his dick into my mouth, massaging it with my tongue. He kindly pulled my hair bag which I though was a nice gesture but then it slowly came to me that the hair obstructed the camera's view of my mouth-on-prick activities. He got hard quickly, his joy-toy at four inches plus.

Rather than complete the blow job, I was told to straddle him and lower myself down onto him so that I had him in my vagina and could ride him back-and-forth. Once we were positioned, I began to move back and forth. He elevated his body to maximize the penetration, and I mindlessly and gently moved to and fro on top of him. His hands came up to cup my tips, small hands, big tits, excess boob flesh pushing out to the side.