MeatLocker

Chapter Ten-1

Chapter Ten

“My c**k’s ‘bout to bust outta my jeans,” stud-lip complained. “I got back pressure you wouldn’t believe.”

“What you complaining about? I gotta wait in line, over here!”

“Tough noogies,” stud-lip laughed as he stepped between Emily’s knees; fumbling with his belt. “Wait in line at the other end of the table. I’m sure you’ll find something to help you pass the time.” He dropped his zipper and, without underpants, his prodigious c**k leapt into view. He looked up at Emily, wanting to see the look on her face, but all he saw was her upturned jaw. s**t!

“Hey. Maybe she’d like to watch the action?” he suggested.

“What?”

“Yeah, sure she would. After all, this is probably the first real f**k she’s ever had. I’m sure she would want to watch.”

Goatee laughed. “You’re a fuckin’ piece of work; you know that?” But he looked around and fetched Emily’s crumpled hospital gown from the floor. He rolled it around a fist and pulled Emily’s head up by a handful of hair. He propped the gown under her neck. “How’s that?”

“Nice. Very nice.” And stud-lip locked onto Emily’s eyes; saw her focus on the head of his pecker, poised an inch away from the opening between her legs. Nice ...got you right where I want you! b***h!

Emily looked down, between pert breasts and across a flat tummy, to see his hoary c**k drooling in anticipation.

Hers was a body for which she was aptly proud; the product of exceptional breeding: From her father, a Scandinavian, she had inherited lofty height, her analytical mind, and his elegance of movement. In earlier years, he had been a professional skier.

Her mother, a Czechoslovakian, had bequeathed stunning beauty and chestnut coloring on porcelain skin.

The bi-product of their loins was lovely Emily, named after her grandmother, a near perfect physique; a body that raised men’s eyebrows wherever she traveled. But rather than pamper it, she brutalized herself: killer sessions with the heavy-weights, mountaineering, helicopter skiing, long distant bicycle racing, marathon swimming. Plus she was a diet junkie. But her physical prowess didn’t preclude her academic pursuits. Her father was a strong believer in education and, owning a shipyard in Stockholm, he provided an unlimited source of funding for her education in America.

She had studied physiotherapy at university. Then an additional two years had netted her a nursing degree. She had planned on another two years for work experience before returning to university to pursue a medical degree. Sports medicine was her chosen field.

Her future had been resolutely set, until she had discovered her laptop had been compromised. And suddenly, all the seemingly unrelated misfortunes that had combined to ruin her day; that had left her paralyzed and staring at a drooling p***s, didn’t seem so unrelated. Her demise had been carefully planned, she realized, and she felt a dreadful void uncoil inside her chest. She feared that being r***d by two animals in the hospital basement was going to prove to be a small and insignificant event in an otherwise torturous day.

Emily stared in disbelief as he gathered himself. Stud-lip lined her up and lunged forward to body-slam her, to pinion her with his c**k. It was a violent attack, intended to hurt and demoralize her. But he missed her hole!

“Augh! Christ!” he howled when his c**k accordion-folded against the tender tissues and bone. He turned away cupping his bruised p***s.

The damage inflicted brought tears to the corners of Emily’s eyes but the sensation of pain was gratifying of itself. Any indication that her nervous system may be recovering was welcomed. Meanwhile, stud-lip, enduring the torrent of laughter from his buddy; he felt like throwing a punch. But he took it out on Emily instead.

He rounded up on her a second time!

He was pissed, felt inadequate, and had been humiliated in front of his friend. And he blamed it all on the rich-b***h laid out on the table in front of him. I’ll show her! He swore and went at her a second time; harder and meaner.

Stud-lip turned on Emily with all the primal instincts of a raging rhino. And this time, with the help of his hand, he ruptured his target with a brutal blow. He bull-dozed into her and didn’t have any intentions of relenting until he had burst her guts. The onslaught was so savage that it lifted Emily’s bum off the table and her hips were driven back.

“Oh no you don’t! Get over here!” he sneered, grabbing her by the thighs and dragging her back down onto his c**k.

He damaged her with deep unrelenting strokes that strained muscle, tore tissue, and bruised her cervix.

With explosive waves of pain eating at her loins, Jenny fought the tears and the urgent need to scream. Instead, she broke into an endless stream of hacking; convulsive sobs.

She wanted to rip out eyes!

Wanted to crush balls!

But all she could manage to force from her frozen throat was a guttural utterance that sounded like an ineffectual hog in heat.

Stud-lip r***d Emily with brutish blows that tore at her. With maddening repetition, her v****a first relented, the innards wrenched out. Only to be jolted back again with another cycle of pain and humiliation; her bottom rebounded against the table.

“God she’s tight,” stud-lip sneered. “Her boyfriend must be a faggy-boy.”

“Or maybe he just uses her mouth.” Goatee hovered above her face and looked down into her eyes with a slick smile. Jenny, anticipating his thoughts, threw her head back in revulsion and startled herself with a sudden cry of anguish.

Any normal man would have been overcome with sympathy for the tortured girl. But goatee wasn’t wired that way. He, like his psychopathic friend, was only wired for self-gratification: booze, smokes, drugs, and broads. He only wanted his turn. But in the meantime, he pulled out his d**k. Just for some amusement.

He held her face in his hands and pried her left eye open with his thumb. The tears spilled over, rolling down the side of her face. He loved it. Leaning closer, he pushed the tip of his p***s into the corner, sliding it across the eyeball. She watered-up. He played in the moisture.

“Take it,” he said, moving his c**k onto her lips and plying himself against the soft skin. She protested half-heartedly, a slight shift of her head, but it was pointless to resist.

“Peas,” she said. And then with extra effort: “P-please!”

But he just laughed and moved forward. She had no choice and took him into her mouth. Emily could taste the salt from her own tears, and the mucus he was seeping. He held her head fast so she couldn’t turn away; and she didn’t dare try to bite him. Instead, she struggled to force him out with her tongue, but it was like trying to get a snake to back up. And worse, he mistook her ineffectual prodding about his pee-hole, as willing submission and he smiled.

“Nice,” he said, “someone taught you how.”

Who would have thought a chick as nice as this, would lower herself to sucking c**k? he thought. And, tilting her head in his hands, he slid over her tongue and into her throat. His buttocks squeezed at the sound of her croaking and the clench in his groin pushed him toward an accidental release. He risked several thrusts, but then reluctantly pulled back; the head of his p***s once again tucked against the roof of her mouth.

Normally, he would have been thrilled to c*m on her tongue, but he could only think of her fine round ass. And how he was going to rip into it. So he vowed to control himself, until she gave up what he really wanted. And what was wrong with letting her keep his d**k warm and moist, until he was ready?

Stud-lip paused, to re-group. He had broached his limit of control twice already, and had fought to contain himself. He wanted to make it last. He eased off a moment; looked over the trophy he and his buddy had scored this time. She was a looker, to be sure; long and slim with a face that could make a man chuck his old lady and the kids. As fine a woman as he’d ever seen, outside of a magazine or sumptin’.

She was classy ...even with his buddy’s d**k in her mouth, she had real class. There was no denying it. No other way to describe her. Oh sure, he’d had his share of fun; those tired broads that hung around the Axle Truck-Stop, Bar and Grill. For the price of a few beers any one of them would forget that she was married and follow him out to the Chevy pickup.

But this piece of tail was prime-A, and stud-lip still couldn’t believe that he had his d**k up into it. He felt the twinge; couldn’t wait much longer. It was time to get it on, empty his load and relieve the pressure. He reached down and snagged her knees, holding one in each of the crooks of his arms. With her ass elevated and her thighs stretched, stud-lip snuggled up, started moving again. Deeper. Deeper.

Then his balls seemed to detonate.

Nurse Emily felt the shift, tensed. Goatee sensed it as well and straightened, pulling from between her lips. He saw the strain on his buddy’s face.

The first cramp twisted his guts. His ass puckered and stud-lip held on for a moment, but it was like trying to hold onto a avalanche. His p***s writhed and opened; followed by a barrage of contractions. One after another, each unloading a pulsating stream of semen deep inside. Emily knew she was being impregnated and the thought of it sickened her. He was filling the cavity of her s*x with his filth. She imagined it rising up, into her insides like a poisonous gas. Millions of vile polliwogs invading every inner sanctum. Her nervous system ignited, like she had been jolted with high voltage and her body was thrown into a violent spasm.

Emily clenched her teeth for fear of biting through her tongue.

“Never had that effect on a woman before.” Stud-lip beamed as he pulled his d**k free and wiped it on her leg. He snorted when he saw his semen mushrooming in the gaping opening. Emily turned her face away. She could feel the thick glob of spunk oozing up. It gathered for a moment, then slowly rolled down between her thighs.

“Let’s get her over; do her doggy style,” stud-lip laughed.

Emily was flipped, not too delicately, onto her stomach and pulled back until her feet touched the floor. Still reeling from the first r**e, she tried to prepare for the second. It was a fruitless exercise. How do you prepare yourself for something like that? Prepare yourself for having your anus ravaged?

And Emily was scared. She had never been terribly active, sexually, and certainly had never experimented with anal s*x. She assumed it would be painful. Even with the most careful lover, Emily was sure the first few times would not be pleasurable. And she didn’t expect goatee to be careful. He would rip right into her.

She eyed him carefully as he moved to the stainless steel sink on the wall and pumped green, liquid soap into his palm.

“What’s that for?” stud-lip demanded.

“One broke d**k’s enough, you think?”

Stud-lip winced, then shrugged and dug out his cell phone again. “Smile,” he said to Emily’s bottom and he took a photo. Emily’s humiliation deepened as her buttocks were forced apart.

“Looks small.”

“It’ll work; with the soap.”

“Bet you five bucks you can’t get it in.”

“Make it ten.”

“You’re on. And I’ll be right here, if you get yourself stuck in there.”

“f**k you.”

Stud-lip laughed. Emily ground the balls of her feet into the floor, and goatee slipped into position between her thighs.

Even though Emily had no sensation in her legs, in most of her torso nor her arms, she tried as best she could to relax her muscles. But something soft and moist startled her. She realized one of them was tonguing her anus; tentative licks. She was thankful for any bit of lubrication offered. She heard the slurpy sound of goatee applying the liquid soap and knew he was ready.

She concentrated on her breathing; nice and controlled. In, out... in, out. Despite herself, her breath snagged when the spongy head was laid against the muscle. She braced herself, fearful of the searing pain.

“C’mon. Get on with it,” stud-lip sneered. But goatee wasn’t about to be hurried. He was taking his time; enjoying the moment. Emily was thankful. But he was thicker and harder than anything that had ever passed through the tiny exit. And the sphincter muscle was like a one-way door; at the end of a one-way street. The relentless press increased, to the tearing point, and when the dull, unrelenting ache expanded through her insides, she knew his slow methodical approach may prove to be a long and painful struggle.

Might be better: a quick thrust... get it over with.

She tried to focus.

He moved into the breach. And held. Then pushed, and her body rebelled, resisting the invasion with painful results. He was still trying to gain access when she realized the angle was all wrong. Jenny tried desperately to help him; came up on her toes and rocked her hips forward, arching her back. He was increasing the pressure when she abruptly burst inward. Her anus, like a tight rubber ring, opened into the softer sheath; an unwilling receptacle poised to receive the sickly slippery slide up into her rectum.

Emily imploded in a cascade of pain. She took halting breaths, then screamed through clenched teeth. She fought down the vomit. Beads of cold sweat, sprouted along her forehead and across her back. The burn in her anus slowly subsided, but the persistent torment of torn muscle, didn’t.

He planted himself deep in her bowels; held securely. Firmly. He paused for a moment, enjoying the sensation of having his c**k gripped and delighted in the knowledge that he was all the way into her ass; he had conquered her; achieved the unachievable.

Emily hung on, clinging to the edge of delirium. The throbbing pain refused to dissipate and she blindly prayed that she would drift from consciousness; lose herself to the darkness, before he started in on her. What bliss to wake up and find it was over. But then he stirred. She felt it move deep inside and knew it was starting. Wondered if she would be able to survive.

It was the withdrawal that was the most vile.

When he pulled back, she had the sickening feeling she was emptying her bowels.

Her rectum rippled as her muscles tried to evacuate the obstruction. And a paralyzing cramp twisted her gut into knots. Her breath came in huffs as she stretched her spine in an effort to work the muscle spasms into submission. Goatee felt her working and pushed forward again. Emily dropped her head and seethed.

Goatee looked down at Emily’s fine young ass; the halves forced apart where his p***s marred the natural curves and stretched the skin of her anus paper-thin. She was solid, not like the pudgy playmates he normally abused. Emily’s ass and thighs were the result of the deep leg presses with a one-hundred pound barbell across her shoulders; the offshoot was the sinewy receptacle that gripped his c**k like a vice.