Author Topic: The Chain Rape Phenomenon  (Read 1789 times)

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April 25, 2017, 09:49:39 PM

Offline SoftGameHunter

The Chain Rape Phenomenon (Extreme, violent, M+/f, interracial, tit torture, bond, rape, torture, nc)

Lynn’s eyes cracked open to see the sliver of daylight peeking in from behind the blackout curtains. They never opened the curtains. Not ever. No one saw it, and Lynn never saw out. She saw, mostly, the ceiling. The crappy, peeling, flaking ceiling of the crappy roach motel that she’d called home for, now, how long? She gave up counting. It made her cry. They didn’t tend to like her crying for no reason. They tended to react badly. They tended to take it out on her perpetually naked body.

She turned her head. Back and forth, left first, to the curtained window. Right, towards the doors, one outside, and one to the bathroom. That was it. There was no microwave in the shitty little room. No fridge. No place to put even a semblance of real food. Her last meal had been Cheetos. No, her last two meals had been Cheetos. But she was alone now. Another gang would come in, sometimes. She had no idea when because she had no idea of the time. It was daytime. That was it. So she lay atop the revolting bedsheet, unwashed since her arrival there. It made her skin itch, and kept her bed sores from ever healing up. She was spread eagled, tied up. Lashed down. Held on the bed with ropes once, and converted to leather cuffs at some point, with chains and padlocks keeping her in place. A maid couldn’t free her now, not that the maid would dare try. Not that any maid ever came in the room. Spread out, limbs held in a single position most of the day. Spread wide so they could fuck her easily without moving her first.

Sometimes they moved her around. Sometimes they didn’t. Most of the time they weren’t there. They changed every day anyway. One day one gang. The next day the next gang. Sometimes they rotated through every now and then. Last night, the gang that fed her Cheetos for her meal, had been in five times so far, or more maybe. Always with snack chips for her dietary needs. It was no wonder her bed sores never healed. She was a breathing petri dish of infections by then. The only things grosser than her bed and her body and her life were the gangs that floated in one a night, day after day, raping Lynn’s body and mind and soul for a few hours, feeding her something to keep her alive, and moving on out. She used to cry. Now she just stared blankly at the ceiling, hours at a time, until she heard a key in the door. She turned her head to see them come in for her.

It was those guys! She didn’t have a name for them. But they’d visited her before, oh yes. She remembered them all too well. Seven of them, vicious, angry, tattooed, bearded biker gang bangers. Seven men so negative they didn’t even engage in fake hooting and hollering when they came down on her. Seven men that acted like raping and beating her was a chore even as they enthusiastically got down to it. Her mouth curled up as she fought back tears on seeing them again. Her left hand began to shake badly, no matter how much she tried to push it down into the mattress.

“Bitch is still alive? I thought there’d be a new piece of cunt by now,” the one called Lice said.

“Don’t matter. She’s fine as she is,” Tito replied. He walked over and grabbed Lynn’s tit in his large, powerful grip. He squeezed, harder and harder. Tears leaked out her eyes and down her cheeks until she cried out. He began to twist, getting his weight behind it, feeling like her breast was tearing off. She sobbed and wailed before he finally let go. “Yeah, alive enough. She’s still got scream in her.” The whole gang was standing over the bed, staring, no, glaring down at her. Lynn tried to sink into the mattress as their cold, dead eyes bored into her, soaking in her ruined naked body. Some aspects of her tragic fate lessened with time. Terror did not. These were the faces of her torturers for the next few hours or longer. Mercy did not exist.

“Feed the cunt. She’ll pass out again if you don’t,” Dice Man said to Hector. Hector had the shopping back from the EZ Mart Lynn knew was nearby. He pulled out a box of Twinkies, pulled one from the wrapper, and pressed it to her mouth.

“Open, cunt!” he said as he stuffed the whole thing into her mouth. “Eat it!” Lynn tried to chew the whole thing at once. The sugar made her teeth hurt. Crumbs fell through her lips as she made the attempt. It was moist enough that she got it down her gullet. He took another one out. “Open wide!” he said, shoving the next one in. Lynn again got it down her throat. Empty calories that kept her body moving for her rapists’ amusement. It hardly mattered if they would kill her several years down the line from malnutrition. She’d probably be shot up the pussy with a .357 long before that happened.

Tyrone sat down beside her. He already had his clothes off, and his big black cock was rising up to get in her. But he held out his narrow switchblade, running it along her chest, glaring at her. “You gonna suck me like a pro today, right?” he asked in his deep, gravely menacing voice. “I asked you a question, cunt!”

“Yes, sir. Yes sir,” Lynn said to him. “I’m going to suck real good, sir.”

“You ain’t gonna go passing out again, right? You ain’t scraping those yellow teeth on me again, right? Cause I can yank them out of your head for you you know.”

“I’m going to be good, sir!” Lynn pleaded. At least two Twinkies would keep her from fainting away from hunger, for a little while.

“Now that’s good to hear,” he said. “Cause otherwise…” He pressed the knife to the inside of her left tit and pushed. Lynn whimpered as the pain grew, and then her skin broke and he slid the blade into her tit slowly, into the fleshy fatty middle area. It would be one more scar. The knife was not that large, maybe four inches long. He pressed it all the way in, then left it there. He was the first to mount her. He wasn’t even going to face fuck her at all. His cock was raging, and he slammed it into her pussy in a single motion. Lynn’s pain was minor compared to the knife in her tit, but she still groaned with each thrust as his stereotypically huge prick pierced her hard, pounding the back of her cervix. Her tits swayed with the motion and he went at her with harsh angry savagery. It was a relief for Lynn when his cum filled her. He got off. He left the blade stuck in her tit.

Randy was next, pushing Lice away for the honor. Lynn knew his name because they called him that, but she had never heard him speak. She didn’t know if he could, or if he just didn’t bother. He never verbally tormented her, but he showed his contempt in other ways. Once he had his cock in her, he ripped Tyrone’s knife from her tit and stabbed it into her upper left arm so he could clutch and maul her mangled tits with his hands and not cut himself. Lynn just had to lie there and endure it.

Cap Ass didn’t wait for Randy to finish. He climbed up onto Lynn’s head and stuck his cock into her mouth. She didn’t dare fight, or bite, or complain. She knew her job as she began her loving blowjob of the man’s filthy, stinky prick. He managed, deliberately no doubt, to fart into her face several times as he mouth fucked her, and she felt droplets on some of them. He pulled out to spray her face and neck when he came, which was before Randy even finished at her cunt.

Six of them fucked her pussy for that first round of abuse, keeping Lynn strapped down the whole time. They broke into the beers, with Dice man pouring some into Lynn’s mouth from up high, splattering a lot of it around her on the mattress, though she drank some. Anything to dull the sensation of being alive was fine with her.

“Who’s got the key?” Lice asked. “I want to flip her and do her ass. Tyrone, you got it?”

“I don’t got nothing.”

“Cap Ass?”

“They gave it to Tito.”

“Fuck they did!”

“Does anyone have the fucking key to the padlocks?”

No one had the key to the padlocks.

“That’s just fucking great!” Lice exploded in a rage, pounding the walls with his fist, and the others weren’t much better. Lynn lay cringing on the bed, waiting for them to vent their rage on her body. She couldn’t move a muscle to dodge their blows. She hadn’t moved in over two days. Indeed, Randy saw Lynn’s look of terror and took offence, pounding her face several times with his fist.

“What you looking so fucking scared of, you goddamned cunt!” he snarled at her. He raised his cocked fist to deliver another, but didn’t, leaving Lynn cringing and weeping. The rest of them finally calmed down.

“This is getting bullshit,” Tito said. “It’s been the same fucking whore the last seven times we’ve been here.”

“She’s getting pretty dull,” Tyrone said. “She don’t even scream good no more.”

“Let’s just leave the bill unpaid. Let the hotel get rid of her,” Randy suggested. “She’s been the heart of this chain rape forever now.”

“Or we can cut her throat,” Tito said.

“We act as one,” Lice said. “Vote. Skip the bill?” Four hands went up. “That’s actually enough right there,” Lice said. “Alright, let’s blow this joint. I wanted to catch the game at Elliot’s Tavern anyway.”

Lynn listened, but hardly dared to believe. Was she going to be let go? Was the long hell over? She didn’t even know how long she’d been there. It seemed like months. The heater was usually blasting. She couldn’t even track the seasons. They packed up their foodstuffs and headed out. At the last second, with the others ahead of him, Tito doubled back for her. As her eyes flew open in terror, he took out his own knife and slashed it across her throat.

“Leaving a fucking witness!” he muttered, walking away. Lynn lay there, bending her head as far forward as she could, feeling blood run from her neck to soak the mattress under her. Tears and sobs sprang forth as her last chance was robbed at the last second. She grew weak, but she didn’t lose consciousness. She didn’t pass out. The blood ebbed. She didn’t die. She lay there, again, for hours. And hours and hours and hours. Night came. Night went. Morning came. And finally the door opened for a motel employee looking for the rent.

“Oh shit!” he said, taking in the scene. The room trashed. Lynn tied naked to the bed, covered in sores and old cum, bloody neck. Soon the maintenance guy had Lynn’s arms and legs free. She made no move. She couldn’t. She knew her ordeal was over, but she couldn’t assert herself. Not for anything. She waited for them.

“Do you know where you are?” the manager asked her.

She shook her head no, afraid to talk. He nodded. “Zack, put her in the truck and drive her across town and dump her somewhere. She doesn’t need to tell anyone about us.”

Lynn just walked, barely, and numbly out back, wincing badly in the sunlight and cold air. Zack, some kid, put her in the back of a delivery or laundry type truck and soon they were driving. Sometime later they stopped and he pulled her out.

“Good luck, lady,” he said. She was standing by the port down by the river, mostly in a maze of rusty shipping containers.

“Wait, please,” she finally said. “What day is this?”

“March 14,” he said. Lynn tried to think, tried to use her brain. It was uncomfortable.

“Only a few months?”

“2017,” he added. A year and four months. Sixteen months. Sixteen months tied to a shitty bed in a shitty hotel, subjected to something called a chain rape, traded off from gang to gang. “There’s a free clinic down that way,” Zack said, pointing. “Check them out. You need it! Pew!” He got in the truck and drove off. Lynn began walking.

April 25, 2017, 10:00:51 PM
Reply #1

Offline SoftGameHunter

Oops, this belongs in forced sex, not in sci fi.