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Her pussy throbbed as she thought of what they’d be doing tonight. Mark had just brought a riding crop and tonight she was a horse. She ran her hands over her body one more time before opening the door. A set of hands grabbed her arms. She screamed.“No need for that,” a man’s deep voice with a southern accent said softly in her ear. “ain’t nobody gonna hear you now. Poor Mark tried stopping me from comin’ in, boy didn’t know what hit him.”“What did you do to him?” she cried, tears streaming down her face. She struggled to break the man’s hold, but he was strong, he now had both of her wrists in on of his hands and was groping her chest with the other.“Ain’t no need to worry about that you pretty little thing.”“Who are you?!” her voice broke, she hung her head, knowing that it was pointless to fight.“I’m your master now,” he said, his hand moving down her body, getting under her panties.“No!” she cried.“Don’t try fightin’ me now,” he said, his voice was commanding. “You’re mine.”***He. How had they prevailed on Kathy to put on this obscene exhibition--and in front of him? It was the dope, he told himself... that damned marijuana. That's what was making his dear Kathy act like this. He had feared all along that she could be provoked to an outrageous sensuality, always had that streak in her, but this? It was beyond any nightmare he had ever imagined."Stop!" screamed Art, unable to watch any more of this humiliating display of disgust. "Immunity... I'll grant you immunity... anything, just don't rape my wife again!" He felt his knees buckling under him and closed his eyes. The whole room, the whole woods, the valley seemed to echo his own words. He chalked it up to anxiety, but continued his pleading. "I'll let you get off, anything you want... just let her go!"Down in the valley, the crowd stopped its milling around, beer cans immobilized in mid-air, couples lying in embrace under trees sat up straight; everyone listened. Where was it coming from? The stage was.
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