THE ELECTRICIAN Part 17
CONTINUED FROM HERE - This is a newly rewritten story, involving "Privateer" - get to know him....
Her body slaved to protect her, her muscles clamping down on him, lubricant pouring out. Her fingers spasmed and her toes splayed. He felt her nipples get harder, poking through his shirt. Tears poured out of her eyes, mingling with the sweat that coursed down her forehead. She tried to kick at him when her legs weren't flopping on the apartment floor
"That's it," he managed to moan, drooling on her squealing face. He planted his hands on either side of her face and jammed all the way in again and again, faster and harder than ever, throwing her convulsing legs wide. "That's it.... Here...it...comes!"
She tried to hurl herself away, but he had grabbed her in a bear hug and jammed her even tighter on his spike, lifting all but her feet off the floor. Her breasts were mashed against his front, his breath hot on her face. And then he cannoned cream into her.
She felt it spurting, streaming, spouting, erupting up her, splashing across her vaginal walls. She screamed in disgust and defilement, the gag making it sound like a strangled, dying wind.
Then, through the haze of anger and revulsion, she saw his face -- smirking tiredly down at her, almost soundlessly chuckling at her powerlessness and captive beauty, as if to say "look who I fucked."
She writhed like a hooked marlin in his grip, trying to launch herself off his cock, but it did no good. Instead he held her tighter, keeping her impaled on his hard-on. Then, to her growing horror, he started to sit up, pulling her with him, forcing her to straddle him, front to front, her knees on the concrete floor.
"Oh man," he breathed, studying her face by holding the back of her head as if she were a newborn. "Just one and you're already in the hall of fame." He grabbed her hair before she could head butt him. "No, no, no," he chided, gripping her left tit with his free hand. He squeezed as she cringed. "Well, no wonder I grabbed you," he marveled. "I was going to just get my rocks off and figure what to do with you, but I guess now that can wait, 'cause I got a new name for you now. What d'ya say, cum-cunt? Wanna go for two?"
The blonde jogger started to scream and cry and shake her head, but then they both froze as another quiet voice filled the room.
The electrician's head spun around to see a young, unbathed man in frayed clothes standing in the dark doorway. He immediately threw the girl to the floor, grabbed her across the throat and waist, then crouched there, holding her desperately wriggling form to him.
"Hey man!" he barked. "Don't come sneaking up on a guy like that!"
The man stood silently in the doorway a few moments more, calmly watching the girl trying uselessly to pull herself from the electrician's grip.
"What you doing?" he finally drawled.
"Can't you see?" the electrician said stridently. "Sex game, man, sex game." He gripped the girl brutally. "Right, hon?" he finished tightly, grabbing her hair and forcing her head over to his slobbering lips.
"Sex games, huh?" the man in the doorway said as the girl frantically tried to wrench herself free. "She losin'."
"No, no," the electrician countered, suddenly pulling a vicious Heimlich on the girl, knocking all the air from her. "She likes it rough, right, baby?"
She slumped down, eyes bulging. Then, purposely, he wrapped a hand around the aghast, stunned girl's throat, and started squeezing as he smiled sickeningly into her disbelieving face.
"Like the brunette bitch down in your van?" the man in the doorway said even more quietly. The electrician froze. "She like it rough, too?"
The electrician looked up from the groaning girl in his lap to see shadows appear from behind the man in the doorway. There were figures he couldn’t see in the hallway, but the one he could see in the doorway behind the other man was Alissa Barnes … still in the white lace catsuit, still bound, still gagged, head down, hair hanging like a curtain, but legs free.
"W-what do you want?" the electrician finally managed to say, his mind racing.
"I don't want you lying to me, man," the other one said conversationally. "These bitches don't wanna be here, do they?"
The electrician slowly shook his head.
"You snatch 'em?"
The electrician nodded.
The electrician just looked meaningfully at the moaning girl in his lap.
"Wow, man. You been busy."
"Yeah," the electrician said, his mouth suitably dry. "My turn," he countered, firmly gathering the blonde girl up, further sealing her weakly working mouth with a clamping palm. "You squatters?"
The man in the doorway nodded.
The electrician paused, thinking. Why did this guy even bother talking? Why hadn't he just attacked when the electrician was "otherwise occupied"? He studied the man's face carefully, already knowing that he and his fellow squatters had already gone through the van like vultures.
"You wanna be squatters?"
The man in the doorway stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly shook his head.
Now the electrician knew he had something they didn't have. Not these girls. They could've taken them at any time. But they now knew that only he had the balls to have snatched them in the first place.
Finally the electrician spoke very carefully, looking from Alissa’s exhausted, not fully-comprehending face, down to the beautiful young blonde trapped in his arms. "Care what happens to these ... bitches ...?"
The man in the doorway shook his head ... slowly and definitely.
"Okay," the electrician said, letting out his breath. "Then, my new friend, have I got a deal for you...."
Her name, incredibly enough, was Brianne Summers. At least that was what the news programs said. They acknowledged her disappearance, had a field day with pictures of her with her pom-poms, and spent a few minutes interviewing her so-called friends ... the ones willing to talk about how wonderful she was so they could see themselves on television.
But no show or paper made the connection between the blonde's disappearance and the brunette's. He guessed that Alissa's mom and school refused to let them telecast her yearbook or personal pictures, so news programs saw no point in bringing it up.
Instead he watched TV as the squatter made his rounds to all the numbers runners, drug pushers, strip club owners, and the like in the surrounding cities. Being a street person, he had gotten to know the right wrong people very well....
"Wanna fuck a white chick?"
"Hey, man, I can fuck any chick I want!"
“Not like this ...wanna fuck a white chick who don't wanna be fucked?"
Then he'd show them the pictures.
Alissa in her schoolgirl uniform ... only with the shirt open and the pleated, plaid skirt shortened ... her arms wrenched behind her and the harness ring gag yanking her mouth open as the other squatters held her for the camera....
Brianne in a cheerleading outfit two sizes too small for even her, her breasts bulging from the deep v-neck, the pleated white mini just barely covering her tuft, the ring gag revealing her smooth pink lips and perfect teeth, the squatter holding her wrenched arms high up her back....
TO BE CONTINUED