"Is this necessary?" you ask, turning your head to look in the general direction of where Whitney has concealed herself amongst the drum section. You yank at the handcuff keeping you tethered to conductor's podium, which is in turn tethered to the floor.
"It's all about verisimilitude!" Whitney hisses.
"Where did you learn that word?" you hiss back. "You're not smart enough to talk so fancy!"
"Shut the fuck up, dick-for-brains! You're gonna blow my cover!"
You sigh and face forward again, sitting cross legged against the podium. This feels a lot like how the condemned must feel waiting for execution.
And then you hear it. The tell-tale sound of Rose's heels clacking on the tile in the hall outside. They approach at a steady pace. And then the darkened room is lit up from the hall's fluorescents as the door squeals open. Rose's silhouetted form enters.
Rose shuts the door and saunters over to you. She quickly assesses the situation.
"My..." she breathes, hand daintily covering her mouth. "Did you do that to yourself?"
You yank again at the handcuffs. "This is what you like, right?"
Rose looks like she's about to faint from the excitement. But she composes herself, slowly swiping a hand down her blouse as if to straighten it. She kneels down and cups your face in her hands.
"That's *exactly* what I like, Alabaster," she says. "You're going to make such a wonderful pet. The best pet."
She stands again, smug. "Would it please you to know I'm not wearing any panties?"
You play the part and nod your head.
"Disgusting," Rose sneers. "Men are all the same. Even wimps like you."
Rose kicks off her shoes. It's clear that she's wearing the same socks from yesterday -- and who knows how many days she's worn them before that.
You cast nervous glances in your periphery, wondering when Whitney is going to come out. She wasn't supposed to let this escalate.
Rose grabs you by the chin, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look away from the drum section, up at her, in her eyes.
She spits -- a long slow blob of drool that descends viscously from her mouth before landing on your upturned face. At the same time, she rubs your crotch with her foot, applying more pressure than is comfortable. You involuntarily whimper.
"Is piggy scared?" Rose asks in a childish voice.
You say nothing.
Rose steps back. "Your girlfriend can come out from where she's hiding now."
Your heart sinks. Hearing Rose's words, Whitney leaps to her feet and charges madly, knocking over drum sets and cymbals in her wake. Amidst the horrible crashing noises of metal and percussives, Rose deftly sidesteps the attack. She grabs Whitney by the wrist and wrenches her arm behind her back.
Rose uses her free hand to yank at Whtiney's hair. Whitney is bent back into a limbo position by Rose's death grip, seemingly incapacitated. But Whitney grits her teeth and with a savage grunt she pulls her trump card out: Ms. Carte's taser. She jabs the taser into Rose's side, scoring a hit right to the kidneys.
There's the sickening "clvvvvv--" of Rose losing control of her vocal muscles. Her body tenses, and she falls on her back.
Now free, Whitney stumbles fully upright again and gives Rose two more zaps for good measure, this time to Rose's tummy. Rose convulses, foaming at the mouth. A foul-smelling puddle issues from her skirt: she's wetting herself.
"Bitch," Whitney breathes, running a palm through her hair. She stumbles over to you and unlocks your handcuffs.
"What the fuck was that?" You yell. "Why did you wait so long?"
"I was waiting for an opening!" Whitney says. "And look how close we came to really fucking this up. It's a good thing we had the taser."
You want to argue more, but your eyes fall upon Rose, her head turning back and forth as she writhes in delirious pain on the ground. The sight of this makes you forget the squabble.
Whitney winks at you. She grabs some nylon rope from her bag and hauls Rose's half-conscious body to the podium, where -- just a few moments ago -- you yourself were chained.
Working quickly, she secures Rose's hands to the podium, behind her back.
Rose blinks slowly, looking back and forth between you and Whitney. Her mind is slow to register this.
"Didn't know about the taser, huh?" Whitney gloats.
"Youuuu--" Rose slurs.
Whitney laughs. It's a laugh that says: the day is young, and there's so much left to do.
While you disrobe, Whitney has a little fun with the new acquisition. She slaps Rose in the face a few times, not very hard, but enough to make some satisfying thwacks.
"Come on, snap out of it," Whitney says. Rose stares at her through slitted eyes.
Even though she's still barely conscious, Rose's expression conveys pure, black hatred.
Whitney falls to hands and knees and holds her face centimeters from Rose's. "Wake up~" she says in a sing-song voice. "Wake up, you cunt~~"
Rose hauls back and spits in Whitney's face. Whitney is completely unfazed. She just laughs and spits right back. "We can do this all day," Whitney tells her. "I love it."
Rose slumps, her head lolling to one side. "Youuu will pay-- for thissh--" she groans.
You step forward, naked and throbbing. "She spat on me too," you tell Whitney. "Guess it's one of her things."
"Let's punish her," Whitney says. She holds you lightly by your erection, ushering you to stand directly in front of Rose's face.
Rose eyes your cock from the corner of her eye.
"Suck it," Whitney hisses. "Just like you did yesterday. Go on, you piece of fuckmeat."
"Fuck you," Rose moans, defiant even through her delirium.
Whitney grabs a handful of Rose's hair and rubs Rose's face in your crotch, trailing your dick leak all over Rose's sniveling face.
This wakes Rose up enough to send her yelling ,half-incoherently.
"Help!!" she cries. "Rape!! Rape!!!"
Whitney grimaces and stands up. She kicks Rose in the side to quiet her. Then she steps quickly out of her spats and panties. Bending down again, she wrenches Rose's jaw open and shoves the panties inside.
Whitney falls onto her naked butt, admiring her handiwork, rubbing her pussy furiously. "Isn't that better?" she asks you. "No more fucking noise."
She slips a couple fingers inside herself. She looks at Rose and says: "how does my cunt taste? Huh? Ohhh--" She shivers and mashes her thighs together as an orgasm courses through her.
You bend over and tug Rose's skirt off. You toss the sodden garment aside.
Rose's body is deliciously filled-out for a girl of only 15. She has fat thighs that give way admiringly to your touch. You grope her ass, and feel like your hand could get lost in all the smooth, supple flesh. You give her backside a sharp smack just for the hell of it and then tug Rose forward so you have better access to her lower holes.
"Which one first? Which one first?" Whitney asks with the enthusiasm of a child.
"Pussy first."
Whitney slithers up to watch the moment of entry from as close as she can get. One hand still works rapidly inside herself, making wet squelching noises. "Rape her!" she says, an insane lilt in her voice. "Fuck her up! Fill her belly with your cum!"
Rose goes bugeyed with some mixture of fear and hatred. She kicks weakly, but you hold her firmly by the ankles and shove yourself forward. Rose throws her head back and cries out through her gag, her every muscle straining against you. Her head turns wildly back and forth. She starts to cry.
You look down and notice a trickle of red on your cock. Whitney seems to notice it at the same time. She bucks her hips wildly with another orgasm. Then, clambering to her knees, she grabs hold of Rose's face and says: "how does it feel to get your virginity raped away? How does it feel to have a man's cock inside you for the first time?"
You saw in and out, establishing a rhythm, grinning evilly. Whitney has control and you let her run this show: this is great. She grabs for her bag and retrieves a really mean-looking flesh-colored dildo. She smacks Rose across the face with it to get her attention and then pulls the panties from Rose's mouth.
"I'll fucking kill you!!!" Rose screams in the brief moment she has to do so. But her protests are quickly drowned as Whitney jams the dildo down her throat as far as it will go. Rose's neck bulges from the foreign object's swift intrusion. She makes truly inhuman gagging sounds around the rubber dick.
"Choke on it, you fucking sow," Whitney says through gritted teeth. Whitney holds Rose's face steady so she's forced to watch you fucking her.
Rose is fleshy, but she's also quite small. If someone walked into the room, they would only see you humping, and not be able to tell there's a person underneath you. You hold Rose's shoulders and let the feeling of total dominance course through your veins. You can do anything you want. Rose is yours to use.
As you surge forward, a final bit of resistance breaks and you seat yourself as deep as you can go. The oozing tip of your cock brushes up against something hard and Rose whinnies, trying to squirm away.
"Oh my god," you groan. "I think I can reach her cervix."
Whitney cackles, fully demented and high on the adrenaline. "Ruin her," she growls. "Fuck her to death!"
You pick up the pace, making sure to bottom out inside Rose with every forward thrust. Her head bangs cruelly against the podium from the force of it. Every time you bottom out, you hit her cervix and smack the back of her head against the wood. She goes limp and pliant in your arms, her hot broken cunt nothing more than a hole for you to use to your heart's content.
Whitney pulls the dildo from Rose's mouth with a wet slurp. She straddles Rose's face and forces Rose's mouth forward. "Suck my asshole, you fucking cum rag!" Whitney says. She jams the slobbery dildo inside herself as she hunches forward and sits on Rose's face.
When Rose is apparently non-compliant, Whitney punches Rose in the kidney. Rose gags and a tiny trickle of piss squirts from her cunt. Then you hear the unmistakable sound of Rose lapping at Whitney's ass, wetly, like a dog.
"Fucking whore," Whitney says, masturbating. "What a fucking tongue. So wet and hot..."
You moan.
"Are you close, baby?" Whitney asks you. You nod. "Cum inside her!" Whitney goads. "Pump her full of fucking scum!"
Whitney falls forward awkwardly, trying to simultaneously maintain Rose's suckling mouth on her asshole while also kissing you. Just like she wanted. You return the kiss and paint Rose's womb with thick slime. Rose shudders with her entire body and howls insanely, the sound muffled by Whitney's ass. Rose's cunt convulses around you, milking you off. The three of you fall prone at the same time, a sweaty tangle of limbs.
GIRLS FUCKED: 2/6