Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One
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Getting to their third victim was a little trickier for Gary and Amelie. The woman lived in a suburban house, and she didn’t live alone. They had to watch the outside of the building for a while, then creep close, and when they finally heard the shower running in the ensuite bathroom late in the afternoon, they entered the master bedroom through an unlocked window.
Gary went straight to the shower while Amelie waited in the bedroom. There was a brief squeak, and then Gary returned, dragging a nude, wet, buxom woman in her late 30s. He had covered her mouth with a piece of duct tape, and her eyes were wide.
He threw her onto the bed, and then showed her his knife, to keep her docile and compliant.
“Now, do you want to tell me who this is, cunt?” Gary asked Amelie.
“This is Leta Boyd,” said Amelie. “She’s the founder and chief counsellor and Intercity Rape Crisis Counselling. She was raped when she was 18 and gave birth to a daughter from that rape, who is now an adult herself, and she’s since dedicated her life to helping rape victims go to the police and identify their rapists.”
Gary narrowed his eyes.
“I know this bitch,” he said. “She’s the one who got me convicted. She counselled three of my victims and convinced them to go to the police. They were perfectly happy masturbating with shame every night while thinking about their rape, or cockteasing new men into raping them, until she gave them the dumbass idea that they had dignity and worth. They said that they sat down with her, and drank coffee, and by the end of the chat they felt brave enough to tell the cops about me.”
The woman on the bed made muffled noises into her gag.
“Shut up, cunt,” said Gary, pressing the knife lightly against her breast. “Your daughter is in the house, right? If she comes to investigate this room, we’re going to have to rape her, too, you understand?”
Leta did understand. She fell quiet – although she quivered at the word “too”.
“Get her ready for me to fuck,” Gary said to Amelie. “I’m just going to find something.”
Amelie knelt between Leta’s legs. “You have to let me lick you,” she told Leta, “or else he’ll hurt us both.”
Leta quivered with fear, but she kept her legs apart, and Amelie began to lick her snatch. She was getting good at this, and while she didn’t know if Leta was gay, straight or bisexual, she soon had encouraged Leta’s pussy to produce an agreeable level of wetness.
Gary returned from the walk-in wardrobe with two long silken dressing-robe ties. He looped each around the base of one of Leta’s tits, and tied it tightly. Then he twisted the ends around his fists, and pulled. The bulging of Leta’s breasts prevented the tie from coming off, and she was instead pulled bodily upwards by her udders, squealing into her gag.
“Good,” said Gary. He pushed her back down onto the bed, and then pushed his cock into her spread pussy. He now used the leashes connected to her tits to pull her towards him, sliding her onto his dick. Then he thrusted with his hips, pushing her away, before pulling on her tits again to draw her back onto his groin.
“See how easy it is to rape you?” said Amelie, whispering into Leta’s ear as she was raped. “He can do this any time. But you know what’s even easier? Raping your daughter. He can do it here, or he can do it where she works or studies. And Gary prefers young cunt, so you know he’d rather be holding her down and fucking her while she squeals rather than settling for your dusty old fuckhole.”
Leta went wild at these words, struggling and moaning into her gag, which just made Gary laugh and pull harder on her tits.
“Quiet down, bitch,” said Amelie. There was something fun – transgressive – about calling another woman a bitch. She liked it.
“We’re going to keep an eye on you,” she continued. This was probably a lie, just as it had been a lie that the police would be checking on the schoolgirl they raped earlier. But Leta would never be able to prove it. “We’re going to watch you. We’re going to watch your clients. And every time one of your clients goes to the police, Gary here is going to rape your daughter. Understand?”
Leta moaned with misery.
“From now on, you have one job if you want to protect your daughter,” said Amelie. “You’re going to use the full powers of your counselling service to convince women that they weren’t raped, that it was their own fault, that they shouldn’t go to the police, and that they should return to their rapists and apologise. You’re going to tell them that they deserve rape and they’ll be happiest if they seek it out. If they get pregnant from rape, you’re going to counsel them to keep the child, even if it will destroy their life. You’re going to suggest treatment to them that involves regularly masturbating while they remember their rape, to desensitise them to it. Do you understand?”
Leta didn’t say anything, so Amelie slapped her, and then she nodded.
“And those cups of coffee you give your clients?” said Amelie. “You’re going to go out and get yourself fucked in the cunt, at least four times a week, never by the same man twice. And when their cum drips out of you, you’re going to save it, and you’re going to mix it into the coffees you serve your clients, understand?”
She was wild with fear and horror now, shaking her head and bucking against Gary’s cock.
“Fuck,” said Gary. “I think she’s going to cum.”
Amelie hurriedly grabbed the stun gun, and got her hand between Gary and Leta, and when she felt Leta begin to shake she pushed the nodes into Leta’s pussy and pulled the trigger. Leta screamed into her gag, and bucked, and squirted all over Gary’s cock.
A minute later, Gary was cumming himself, filling her pussy with his sperm.
“Feed that load to your daughter,” said Amelie. “We’ll know if you don’t.”
Amelie took a photo of her victim, and then they withdrew through the window, leaving Leta nude, crying, and freshly raped on her bed.
“You were right,” said Gary, back in the van. “I did love that. You did well, cunt.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Amelie. Her hand was already between her legs, masturbating again, as she had no other task to perform with it.
Her phone chimed. “Amelie, you are a stupid cunt,” it said in her voice.
“That’s right,” said Amelie automatically . “I am a brainless wet-cunted bitch.”
Gary glanced across at her as the van started. “Why are you looking at me, cunt?”
Amelie hadn’t realised that she had been looking – but he was right.
“I just thought – I mean, aren’t you going to… use me, too?” she said.
Gary laughed.
“Bitch, I just dumped three loads into three bitch. I’m done. Your cunt is your problem.” He paused, and then added, “But we can do one more bitch, just for you, if you need to cum?”
A part of Amelie’s mind knew that Gary was tired, and would actually slightly prefer to be done – that she could just say “no”, and go home, and then masturbate in privacy, or rape the woman she had locked in her wardrobe, or call Chris and ask him to come fuck her. There was no reason she needed to do this.
But another part of her was very, very horny, and traumatised, and fucked-up, and broken from the knowledge she had just been an accomplice in three rapes. It was a part of her that wanted to cum – and not just cum, but cum from something truly perverted.
So that part of her told her brain that this was a test. Gary wanted her to say that she wanted to rape another woman – and if she didn’t, he would punish her. He was practically forcing her to say yes. She had no other option.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Let’s rape one more.”
“Pick someone you know,” said Gary.
Amelie blinked. “What? I mean, what did you say, sir?”
He reached out and casually slapped her, for making him repeat himself.
“Someone you know,” he said. “You’re going to rape someone you know in real life. Not too far from here. Pick a bitch.”
Amelie struggled. She could say she didn’t know anyone near here. Or she could pick someone who was only an acquaintance, who would barely remember her.
But her brain told her this was another test Gary would know. Gary wanted her to pick something truly perverted, and if she didn’t, he would punish her.
“Collleen Valmary,” she said. “She only lives a few blocks from here. I’ve been friends with her since primary school. She’s got… red hair and big tits. She once confessed to me that she was raped as a teen and never reported it, so I think she’ll stay quiet.”
“Sounds good,” said Gary. “Let’s make it happen, bitch.”
They drove to Colleen’s house. Colleen lived alone. Amelie could see her making dinner through the windows.
She looked at Gary.
He shook his head. “Oh, no,” he said. “This is all you. I’ll follow for back-up, but we’re raping her because you want to rape her.”
“But she’ll… recognise me,” said Amelie. “I need a mask.”
“Who the fuck cares if she recognises you?” said Gary. “You said she’s not going to tell. Plus it’ll be hot for you, when she sees you later, and she knows you raped her, but you know she’s keeping your secret.”
Amelie swallowed. She wanted to change her mind.
Gary would punish her if she did. He would really punish her now, now that they’d come here. She could see it in his face – he wanted to watch her rape her friend.
So she went to the front door of her friend’s house and pressed the doorbell, and when Colleen answered, Amelie pushed the door open, hard, and went in and grabbed Colleen by the neck, and in her other hand Amelie held a knife.
“Amelie?” squeaked Colleen. “What…”
“Shut the fuck up, you dumb bitch,” snarled Amelie. “Take your clothes off, or I’ll cut you.”
Colleen was gasping, shivering . Amelie slapped her with her free hand, to promote compliance.
“This is real, Colleen,” said Amelie. “I’m sorry. Get your clothes off.”
Colleen was looking over Amelie’s shoulder, at Gary.
“Is he making you…” she began.
Amelie slapped her again. “Stop thinking and strip, bitch,” she said.
Colleen began to undress, and soon she was nude and crying. Her tits seemed even bigger, now that they were exposed, and her cunt was pleasantly shaved.
“Bedroom,” said Amelie, and followed as Colleen led her to the master bedroom.
Then she pushed Colleen down. She looked at her friend’s tits appraisingly, aware that her cunt was gushing with arousal. She remembered what Gary had done at the last house.
“Keep an eye on her,” she told Gary. Then she went to Colleen’s wardrobe, and found two dressing-gown ties, like Leta had had, along with a thin leather belt. She came back and secured the ties around Colleen’s large tits. Then she straddled Colleen’s face, pressing her cunt against Colleen’s mouth, her ass against Colleen’s forehead.
“Lick, bitch,” she instructed.
Colleen’s hot salty tears felt good against her thighs. Colleen’s tongue felt even better, as her friend began to lick.
As Colleen serviced her, she yanked on Colleen’s tits with her left hand, and with her right hand she began to whip Colleen’s cunt with the leather belt.
It felt amazing, to have such power over a woman she had known most of her life. It felt incredibly erotic, to take her most valuable friendship and betray it violently for the sake of an orgasm. In one moment, she had transformed a woman she had loved and respected into an object for her to rape and abuse. She was getting off on the feeling of Colleen screaming her pain into her cunt with every strike of the whip.
Amelie’s clients had been right. Raping a woman felt good. And once you had experienced the joy of rape, it was hard to see women as having any other worthwhile function.
She let herself lean down, still yanking on Colleen’s tits, until she could lick Colleen’s cunt. Colleen squealed at the feeling of Amelie’s tongue – which was strange, as it was surely more pleasant than the belt – but her non-consent just made it more fun to tongue her fuckhole and chew her clit.
Pretty soon, Amelie came, but she kept humping Colleen’s face. She wanted another orgasm, and, just as much, she also wanted to make Colleen cum from rape. She thought she could do it. Colleen’s cunt was getting wet, and it wasn’t just Amelie’s saliva. She kept licking.
Gary knelt by the bed and took the belt from Amelie’s hand, and replaced it with the stun gun. Then he went closer to Colleen’s head, and began to talk quietly into her ear.
“This is what you were born for, bitch,” he said. “Your friend has wanted to do this to you since the first time you met. And she’s going to do it again, whenever she wants to, you understand? You’re going to make yourself available as her cunt slave. From now on you don’t wear clothes at home, and you never lock your doors, to make it easy to rape you – whether that’s Amelie, or someone else. Even if you have a friend or a visitor, you will be nude. Amelie will check on you. And if you aren’t obeying – I know where to find you. And I don’t think you’re sexy. And I’m quite happy to fuck you up with a knife. Understand?”
Colleen went wild from fear and humiliation – and that was enough to make her cum. And as Amelie felt her friend cum, she pressed the stun gun into Colleen’s twat and fired it.
Afterward, when she went to take her picture of Colleen, she wasn’t sure that Colleen looked humiliated enough. So she asked Gary to piss on her and, shrugging, he cooperated, drenching her face and hair and tits and bed with urine. After that, she looked just right, and Amelie got the picture she wanted.
“I know some friends who’ll be happy to run a train on her,” said Gary, as they left Colleen’s house. “I’ll send them by in the next few days. Make sure she’s nude and has her door unlocked, okay?”
And Amelie knew she would.
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