EVERY HOUR
By V.P. Viddler
Lisa didn't know which of the boys it was. The blindfold saw to that.
He didn't talk, only making grunting sounds, happy, piggish rutting grunts as he
did it to her. long grunts and short grunts, doing it and doing it as she lay
helpless and taut beneath him, spread and straining, all of her open and unable
to move, to fight, because of the strong tight ropes binding wrists and ankles
to the bedposts.
Not that his voice would help to identify him; Lisa didn't know any of them,
except for Tom.
Her younger brother, Tom.
Who had put her here.
And brought six boys to do this to her. What this boy was doing to her.
And for her to do things to them. For them. Which Lisa wouldn't do.
It didn't matter how much it hurt.
But they thought if they hurt her enough she would do it. Them.
Lisa didn't want to think so. But it didn't stop. It had no stop. How long had
it been? How many hours with boys raping her continually. Not continually. But
spasmodically. But steadily. And hurting her. Awful hurt. Agony.
But no. She wouldn't.
They knew she would.
Lisa was afraid she would too.
And now the boy was grunting hard, almost shouting, and now he was pounding on
her body and spurting into her.
And Lisa was afraid. Now more pain.
But she wouldn't.
How many times? Every hour. Every hour on the hour, she could hear a clock
striking and a boy would come in and Lisa couldn't see which boy it was and
couldn't talk with the thick gag in her mouth and couldn't do anything to stop
his hands on her body and his body on hers and his cock going into her and his
fucking, his slow or fast or hard or soft fucking and his grunting or giggling
or panting or taunting as he did it to her.
And then standing up. A striking of a match. An inhalation, a blowing out of
smoke. Into her face.
"Will you do it, Lisa?"
Taut, shaking, biting at the gag, Lisa stubbornly shaking her head. And then
pain.
Agony.
Screaming horrible agony of a hot burning cigarette slowly, slowly ground out on
her breast. Slowly twisting burning into soft tender helpless flesh. Lisa
arching against her bonds and screaming into the gag.
And the door closing.
Lying for an hour.
A door opening.
Raping.
Asking.
Burning.
And now this boy was standing up. Lisa could not help whimpering with the
striking of the match. Shaking her head.
Inahalation. Exhalation.
Oh god have mercy I can't please sweet Jesus help me I can't no not again I
can't I can't I can't---
"Will you do it, Lisa?"
No! Mewling into the gag. No! Don't! No! I can't! Crying.
Lisa was nodding. Moaning into the gag. Sobbing. Nodding. Nodding hard, fast.
"You will?"
Nodding. Crying. I can't, I can't, no more.
The boy was at the door.
"I got her," he said.
Crying, sobbing into the gag. All the boys came into the room. Someone pulling
off the blindfold. Tom grinning down at her.
"I knew you would, Lisa." Undoing her gag, pulling it out. "Say it."
No.
"Say it, Lisa."
The boy standing with the cigarette. Waiting.
"I'll do it," Lisa said, crying.
"You'll do what?" Tom said. "Say it. Say it or I'll burn you till you do."
Lisa was sobbing, body shaking, naked and helpless in front of them all.
"I'll suck your cocks," Lisa said, crying, sobbing.
"Say it again," Tom said, grinning.
"I'll suck your cocks," Lisa said.
"Say it again."
"I'll suck your cocks."
"Again."
"I'll suck your cocks."
"Tell us you want to, Lisa."
"I want to."
"You want to what, Sis?"
"I want to suck your cocks."
"Burn her," Tom said. "Just so she'll do it right."
"No! I will! I will! I swear I will!"
The boy did it slowly, grinning at her eyes, squeezing one breast while grinding
the cigarette into the other, and all the boys watching Lisa arching and
straining and bucking and flailing and Tom now fucking his sister and raping her
and then Lisa was untied and crawling from boy to boy and taking each cock into
her mouth and sucking slowly crying and swallowing all day...
