As they lay atop her amid the black men, Joyce looked down into the face of their captive.
Lydia's mouth was lolling wide, her mouth still coated with gobs of semen. Smiling, Joyce slowly closed Lydia's flaccid jaw, and carefully sealed her lips on the jiz with her own bony, unbreakable fingers...just as the agent pulled the car out of the car wash and into traffic.
The lesbians pulled the tight black dress around Lydia's body. It had a subtle design of tiny little flowers on it. It reached to her knees and its dress was fairly wide though slightly clingy to her legs. The waist was bunched, and adhered relatively tightly to the merry widow still clipped impossibly tight to her torso. The décolletage was chirred and bunched about her breasts nicely, like dozens of tiny cloth fingers clutching at the swell of her bosom. The sleeves were short and puffy.
Madge made sure all the clips down the front were well attached, as Joyce took Lydia's still weakened jaw in her fingers. Lydia's lids were half-closed, her blue eyes smoky from shock and ill use.
"Now listen, dear," Buchler said quietly, as if they were the only two in the now somewhat crowded back of the van. "You know what to do. We are going to visit a friend of yours. You must get your friend to come into the van. Tell her you accidentally hit a dog, or a cat—if your friend is a cat lover—and that the poor thing is lying hurt in here. Understand?"
Lydia's head lolled on her neck.
Buchler suddenly grabbed her head and yanked on her hair. "Understand!?"
Lydia moaned, her head sinking forward.
"Oh yes," said Coveralls, kneeling beside her, casually putting his hand down her dress. He filled his hand with her tit, pulling it up and out of the corset. "You understand." He squeezed. "Don't you, darling?" Lydia mewed and cringed.
Joyce got up in disgust. "Make her understand, boys," she said to Sweatpants.
Lydia suddenly did her best to scramble up and begin to screech, but Coveralls quickly put his hand over her mouth and yanked one arm high up her back….
Sweatpants just as quickly removed his namesake and slid under her, only this time in a sitting position. The two men forced her to sit on his lap, her back to his front, as the agent slowly drove around the L.A. neighbourhoods, watching out for the actress they knew would be outside at about this time.
Sweatpants grabbed Lydia's right tit through the dress and clapped his other hand over her mouth as Coveralls kneeled alongside, holding both her wrists in one giant paw, his other hand going from her face to her left breast to her thigh.
She gurgled as the shaft moved up inside her once again, the billowing skirt covering this new assault. The jerking started, her head held tightly against his shoulder as they both grunted in rhythm.
"There she is," the agent softly exclaimed. Joyce tore her attention away from the captive's rape to hop in the passenger seat and look out the driver's window.
There she was all right: walking down the long driveway to her car: five feet six of serene, dark brown-haired beauty—her lips full in the center and curved along the edge, her brown eyes shapely and deep, her nose perfect, her chin strong, and her swan-like neck regal.
And what a body. Encased as it was in a tailored suit, fittingly double-breasted with no hint of a shirt in sight, and a miniskirt slit up the back. It was a darkish tan color, almost cocoa cream, which matched the high heel pumps at the end of those long, tan, perfectly shaped legs.
Joyce glanced back at Lydia before returning her attention to the matter at hand. As she surveyed the shape walking outside she decided it was almost a shame to waste her car wash companions' talents on the moderately endowed Lydia when such a grand presence awaited.
"Wrap it up," she hissed at them. Sweatpants did not have to be told twice. He quickly grabbed both Lydia 's tits through the dress, as Coveralls put one palm on the back of her head and pressed the other against her mouth. Then, as her eyes snapped to total aperture, Sweatpants slam-jerked his full length all the way inside her and spurted a quarter-cup of cum in the deepest recesses of her chamber.Lydia surged up, but the worst, believe it or not, was yet to come. Sweatpants held onto the girl's tits, and jerked her off his erection. Coveralls was not idle, either. Reaching quickly behind the victim, he took a long rubber and plastic dildo from Joyce.
Lydia saw the dreadful thing as Coveralls pulled it past her face.
She tried to hurl herself away, but Sweatpants was having none of it. He tightened his grip on her tits and yanked her back.
He practically lay on his own back, dragging Lydia with him. Much to her chagrin, her legs scissored as she tried to maintain some sort of balance. Her mouth opened to yowl, but Madge was there, skittering over, her hand unerringly finding the girl's lips.
Coveralls instantly took advantage of the situation by hurling up Lydia 's skirt and slamming the dildo home...like a samurai sticking his sword expertly back into its scabbard.
He pressed the dildo against her left leg and let it guide him in. But his speed and force were masterful. The dildo crown kissed her vaginal lips, then immediately forced them open and rammed itself all the way in.
Before Lydia could even completely comprehend what they did, Joyce was already handing off yet another item. It was small, shiny and black, but it seemed to flatten and grow in Coverall's hands. He reached down and she distantly felt something along both legs. Then, suddenly, Sweatpants was reaching down and yanking something up over her hips.
Lydia's big blue eyes pinballed down to see the dress' skirt up around her waist and something incredibly tight, incredibly slick, and incredibly black covering her loins like a second skin of liquid metal.
Lydia 's head screwed around her neck, a hopeless yowl drooling out from behind Madge's gagging fingers. They had shoved a dildo all the way into her and then locked it there with a stunning polymer/rubber panty that adhered to each buttock like thick paint.
Suddenly everybody let her go. Lydia hit the mattress with a small thump as the others circled her like an audience at a mini-theater-in-the-round. For a moment, she blinked and gasped, stiffening.
And then she felt it ... between her legs .... inside her.
TO BE CONTINUED