The Long Road Home
"Where you headed, sweetheart?"
Cheyenne steps forward, takes a good look at the men in the blue sedan---clean
cut, friendly. Big dog in the back seat---what was that, a Great Dane? Three
men in one car-normally that would be enough to inspire her to wave them by, but
this was no normal situation. She had to get back to Fernley, and she had to
get there fast. Her mother had suffered a stroke, and the kids-her younger
siblings-were alone.
"Well, where are YOU going?" She slings her pack over her shoulder, shakes her
blonde head, smiles brightly.
"Reno," the driver returns her smile, "does that work for you?"
Cheyenne hesitates, cocks her head, "Are you nice?"
"Honey, you don't have a thing to worry about-they don't come any nicer than
us."
Hesitating, Chey points to the front seat-experience has taught her that being
in the back invites trouble she doesn't need. The front passenger smiles,
climbs into the back to accommodate her, sending the dog up front. Grinning,
she slides her pack on floor and climbs in. She laughs as the dog licks her,
puts an arm around him happily.
"So where ARE you headed, hon?" the driver pulls away from the curb slowly, "and
I'm Steve, by the way-that's Dave and Randy back there."
"Cheyenne-" Chey stops, giggles at his surprise, "-no, no! My NAME is Cheyenne,
I'm going to Fernley. Do you know where that is?"
Steve laughs, "Pleased to meet you, Cheyenne. You bet I know where Fernley is!
What's bringing you there?"
"My mom is sick, I'm going home."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear about your mom-where have you been that you're now
going home?"
Cheyenne looks out the window as she recites her story-one made up for the
benefit of men who give her rides. It's got a fair bit of truth to it, though
she leaves out the part about her mother accusing her of sleeping with Dale, her
third husband. She hates her mom. Hopes she does die, in fact. But she needs
to get home before the state gets involved with the kids.
"Well, I think that's about the saddest story I've ever heard," Steve puts his
hand on her shoulder, "why don't you get some rest? It's still a long ways."
Chey turns, stares out the window at the darkening landscape rushing by. She
hates Nevada, always has. So desolate. Creepy. She thinks about her dad,
wonders what he did after he abandoned his family in this hell hole. She
reaches into her pocket, pulls out a Snickers.
She dozes.
The road turns bumpy, and Chey is jostled awake. It takes her only a second to
realize that they've left the highway . . . and that she is in deep trouble.
She grabs the doorhandle, yanks, intent upon throwing herself from the car.
Rough hands grab her from behind, pulling her backwards, up and over the seat.
Screaming, she fights wildly, her legs flailing helplessly as she is dragged
into the back seat. Her struggles are valiant, but to no avail-she is
outmatched, the men are too strong. Forcing her face into the upholstery, they
wrench her arms up behind her back, binding them tightly with duct tape. Hands
slither beneath her, unzipping her jeans and yanking them down over her
squirming hips.
"Hey, no panties!" The men whoop excitedly as they paw, probe, their hands
fingering her dry pussy roughly, pushing into her tight asshole. Chey's
struggles become increasingly frantic as she fights to turn her head, to draw
breath. Pinching, grinding, the men maul her as she writhes.
"Use the rope, guys." Steve's voice is tight with excitement-they'd never done
anything like this before, but they'd talked about it for years. He feels
giddy, thrilled, aroused almost beyond bearing.
Flipping her onto her back, they wrap the rope around her bare ankles. Gasping,
dragging in ragged breaths, Chey kicks at them ineffectually, squealing between
gasps. Dragging her legs up one at a time, they secure her feet behind her
head, wrapping the rope around her face, through her mouth. She is painfully
stretched, her already sore pussy and ass wide open, vulnerable. The rope cuts
her mouth, her tongue works it desperately.
"Stupid, you forgot to take her shirt off!"
Randy laughs, pulls a knife from his belt and begins sawing her shirt from her.
Chey's struggles stop at the sight of the blade-she whimpers, her eyes huge,
pleading as the knife passes over her flesh. Her shirt falls away, then her
bra, leaving her full, pert breasts, bare, trembling. They squeeze them
painfully, twisting, pinching as she cries.
The car rolls to a stop before a small shack, and Steve kills the ignition.
"Chey, we're home!" The men laugh raucously, dragging her from the car by the
hair, dumping her on the hard ground. Chey writhes desperately, whining,
squealing through the rough ropes. Picking her up, the men carry her to the
shack, laughing at her struggles.
One inside, they place her on her back on a rough hewn table in the center of
the room. They're eager, shaking with anticipation. Hands fumbling, Steve
unwinds the rope through her mouth, moving it to her throat and securing it
again. Chey's raw lips work, her tongue passing over them before she speaks.
"Please, please let me go, please, I won't tell if you just let me go-"
Steve draws back his fist, punches her hard in the face. Pushing her down on
her back, he drags her long hair down towards the floor, her head over the edge
of the table so her neck is craned back painfully. He knots her hair around the
table's crossbeam, then rises, smiling at his handiwork. Chey's breaths are
harsh, her whines hoarse, animal-like as they stand around her, unzipping their
flies and pulling out their swollen cocks.
"Dude, it sounds like she's having a hard time breathing with that rope around
her neck."
"And what's your point?" Steve smiles as he steps in front of her face, "She
can breathe enough for our needs." Grasping her head, he forces her jaws wide
with his thumbs and rams his cock into her face, full length, grinding into her
throat. Chey's whines are cut short, her tortured breath stops as he blocks her
airway with his tool. Her struggles renew violently as he rapes her mouth, her
throat working frantically. Laughing, his thrusts are vicious, hard and fast.
Stepping up, Randy pinches her clit cruelly between his nails, smiling as her
hips jerk, her bound legs strain. Grasping the base of his cock, he pushes
relentlessly into her dry, tight pussy, relishing in the way it clenches against
him, the way her hips jump and twitch, trying to avoid his tool. He groans low,
slams his full length into her, pulls out slowly, then begins slamming into her
in earnest. Her breasts bounce painfully as she is rammed from both ends, face
and pussy. Her lungs burn, her eye bug blindly, sight blocked by Steve's
thighs.
Dave reaches into his pocket, pulls out his smokes and lighter. Smiling, he
lights one, drags deeply. And then he sets to work. Leaning close, he presses
the cherry of his smoke to her left nipple. Chey's body jumps, a harsh GACK
comes from around Steve's pumping cock. Tilting his head in fascination, Dave
moves to the other nipple, applies the cherry, grinning as once again she
responds.
"You're a psych, Dave." Steve mutters as his pace quickens, his balls
tightening. Grasping Chey's head, he goes into the final stretch, battering her
throat, slamming her neck against the edge of the table. With a whooping cry,
he pulls back slightly and lets loose, his cum, thick and hot, flooding her
mouth and throat. She gags, chokes, then begins swallowing desperately, knowing
she'll drown if she doesn't. His cum bubbles from her nose as she sputters,
gasps.
"That's right, baby, drink it all up," Steve laughs, "look at the whore go, she
loves my jizz!" Pulling out, he wipes his cock over her cheeks and nose,
pushing it against her eyelids as she whimpers and gasps, pulling in what air
the tight rope around her throat will allow.
Randy watches, his thrusts increasing in fervor as Chey struggles to swallow
Steve's cum. Groaning, he leans into her, slamming her into the rough wood as
hard as he can. She grunts with every violent thrust, her belly cramping with
the force of it. Shouting, Randy's cock explodes inside her, filling, the cum
trickling across her ass even as he fucks it into her. He moans, then lays his
head on her tortured breasts, pinching the burned nipples and groaning in
pleasure as her pussy spasms with the pain.
Dave waits patiently until Randy pulls out, then crushes his smoke out on her
clit. Her strangled scream brings a broad grin to his handsome face.
"My turn."
Kneeling before her face, Dave cuts her hair free, then moves on to untie her
legs, momentarily removing the rope from her throat. She sucks air in
desperately. Flipping her onto her belly, he laughs at her weak struggles, her
rasping whimpers. He wraps the rope around her still taped wrists, then loops
more around her throat.
"Help me lift her, guys!" They grasp her kicking legs, her thrashing body, and
lift, giving Dave the space he needs to secure the rope to the ceiling beam.
Her whimpers become choked screams as she hangs down by her wrists and throat,
her own weight dislocating her shoulders, her legs flailing frantically just
inches above the floor.
"Now THAT'S a piece of work if I ever did see one," Steve smiles at her tortured
form, her agonized eyes, "You gonna nail her ass?" Dave nods distractedly.
Stepping up behind her, Dave grasps her hips and pulls her toward his huge cock.
Pushing, forcing, he smiles ecstatically as her struggles become frenzied, her
legs kicking out violently around him, behind him. Her asshole, tight, unused,
resists, her breathless screaming prods him to press harder. With a cry of
triumph, he grinds into her, laughs as he feels her flesh tearing around his
tool. His strokes are calculated, cruel, meant to maximize her pain-her pain is
his pleasure. The others look on, considering the strangled quality of her
cries, the darkening of her face, bugging of her eyes. Her struggles become
increasingly crazed as her arms give-every inch the tendons and ligaments give,
the more pressure is exerted on her throat.
Dave's thrusts become wild, his excitement increasing as her blood flows down
her thighs, slicking his cock. Laughing, he cums hard, his legs trembling as he
shoots his load into her shredded, spasming asshole.
Dave pulls out slowly, savoring the feel of her wounded flesh. Chey's cries
have stopped, replaced by choking gasps and rough whines. Every breath is
labored, wheezing. Her legs work weakly, seeking some purchase. Dave grabs her
leg and spins her, laughing uproariously as she twirls. The others join in,
amazed at his capacity for cruelty.
"So now what?" Steve finishes zipping his pants. "You want to leave her here?
Take her back to the road? What?"
"I want to watch her die." Dave's words are soft, his face expressionless.
"No way, man." Randy shakes his head violently. "I didn't buy into that."
Dave considers Randy, then cocks his head, "What, you think she's not going to
call the cops the instant she's out of here?"
Randy shakes his head again, "I don't care-bitch is crawling with our DNA.
Besides, we had our fun, let's just leave her."
Steve lights a cigarette, finally speaks up. "Whatever we're going to do, we'd
better decide fast-in case you hadn't noticed, she's just about gone."
Randy pulls out his knife, cuts Chey down. She falls to the floor hard,
gasping, dragging in huge, painful breaths.
"You know," Steve muses, "if we could make her do something incredibly
humiliating, she wouldn't call the cops. She wouldn't want anyone to ever
know."
"Like what?" Dave is unhappy, angry that he's being voted down.
"Randy, get the dog."
Randy leaves, returns with the dog. Chey lies between them on the floor,
crying, whining.
Bending down, Steve grasps her hair, yanks her head back. "Suck the dog, cunt.
Suck the dog and we'll let you live."
Chey sobs, shaking her head, mumbling please, promises that she will never tell.
Steve takes Randy's knife, presses it to her throat. "Blow my dog or I'll cut
your fucking throat, do you understand?" Chey nods weakly, whimpering as Steve
drags her to the dog.
"Open wide, bitch."
Pressing her head down, he forces her face to the dog's sheathed cock. Chey
begins licking and sucking, moaning in horror as the dog's giant cock begins
emerging. Within minutes, it is swollen, angry, nearly choking her as the
dog's hips begin jerking.
"Oh, man, now he needs it," Dave laughs, happier now that a new horror has been
found for Chey, "we can't leave him hanging!"
Grabbing Chey, Steve slams her over the edge of the table, her face pushed into
the wood. The dog follows, his nose pushed into her pussy, snuffling, licking
the cum and blood. Grasping the dog's paws, they lift him to mount her. He is
surprisingly compliant, his paws grasping her hips, scraping her roughly as he
prods, pushes, his hips jerking uncontrollably now. Chey screams weakly as he
hits home, his slimy, wet cock driving into her bruised pussy. Chey gags,
sobbing in horrified devastation as the dog humps her relentlessly, slobbering
across her back as he works her pussy.
"You guys ever seen this before?" Steve is watching, enrapt, "there's a knot
that'll come out of his cock, it'll hang up in her and they'll be stuck."
"Are you shitting us?" Randy leans in, watching closely.
"Nope, no shitting whatsoever."
Moments later, the dog's knot appears as promised, and Chey's screams become
agonized as it stretches her, her legs kicking, back arching as it fills her.
"And now they're stuck?"
"Yep, check it out."
Steve grabs Chey by the hair, drags her up onto the table. Her shrieks are
tortured, harsh, barking. The dog yelps, scrambles to follow her onto the
table, his cock stuck firmly in her bleeding pussy.
"Well ho-lee shit."
The men stand around, laughing, joking as Chey sobs, filled with cock and knot.
They whoop with amusement as the cum begins flooding down her legs.
"That sure is a lot of jizz." Randy is astounded.
"Yep, they do cum a whole bunch." Steve smiles as the dog slips out of Chey,
begins licking its cock furiously.
"Hey, now, " Dave steps forward, "isn't that the bitch's job?"
"I think you're right."
Steve grabs Chey, throws her to the floor, then drags her to the dog. "Lick it
all up, whore-suck him clean and hope he doesn't get hard again. Because if he
does, you'll take it in the ass next time." Chey sucks mindlessly, licking her
own blood off along with the dog's cum.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chey stumbles numbly along the dirt road, hands still bound behind her back.
Her legs tremble with the strain, her thighs slick with blood and cum. The sun
burns her bare flesh, the welts and bruises have become angry and purple. She
reaches the highway and falls to her knees. Someone will help now. Someone
will take her home.
The truck whizzes by, then squeals to a stop. Reversing fast, it comes to a
halt beside her. She looks up, dazed, grateful as a door opens and a man steps
out. He is laughing.
"Fuck pennies from heaven, Tom-we got us a fuck toy!"
Chey screams as the calloused hands drag her into the cab.
