“Aw, listen to that, Keegan,” said Remington. “The poor thing’s crying. What do you do when a baby cries?”
“Soothe it,” the man said. “Or maybe give it a bottle. Yeah, I’d give it a bottle.”
“And this chick’s just too tied up to be able to hold onto it, right? So that means you’d better put it in the other end.”
Louise heard the words distantly but she hardly understood what the men were talking about. All this seemed to be a nightmare for her. It couldn’t be real. Nothing this painful could be real, she thought.
And then she found out the true extent of their viciousness and brutality. She heard Remington coming up and asking her, “What’s your favorite booze, Blondie? Bourbon? Vodka? Scotch?”
She didn’t answer. She had no reason to believe they would give her the drink she so desperately needed. They wouldn’t even give her water. They made her lick up a dollop of cum on the floor, instead.
“Scotch. Blondie like Scotch,” said Keegan. “And I got about forty of those dipshit bottles they use.” He rattled a tiny case of the miniature bottles and the clinking glass made Louise long for the days when all she had to do was go up and down the aisles asking the passengers what they wanted to drink.
And she had actually, at one time, disliked the male passengers who had pinched her ass. Now that seemed like the mildest of all possible things to her. After this, she would never complain.
If there was an after for her. She might just die on the spot from the sunburn or the whippings they continued to give her at random.
“Got the hose here,” said Remington. “You got everything ready?”
“Sure do,” said Keegan. “The chick is going to get all the liquid she ever wanted. All of it booze, too. And don’t you dare spill a drop, Blondie. If you do, you’re a goner.”
Louise heard but didn’t understand. And then, as they shoved the hose into her asshole and she felt the burning of the Scotch being poured into her asshole, she understood too well.
“No, you can’t give me an enema like this. It… it’ll kill meeeee!”
She almost fell forward. To have done so would have caused her sunburned tits and pussy-mound to rub on the rough rug. She caught herself just in time. It took great strength in her belly muscles to hold herself up. But the flood of burning alcohol into her bowels drove her out of her mind with pain.
The alcohol burned and seared her insides until she was sure they would kill her with it. She sobbed and cried out in agony and still they continued to pour in the Scotch. She felt the hose wiggle around in her guts, then shove in even deeper to make sure they were reaching her innermost parts.
She felt her belly becoming bloated. She looked down and saw her stomach hanging down as if she were seven months pregnant. The pressure of the Scotch insider her body was almost more than she could bear.
“Enough,” said Remington. To her, he added, “If you spill one lousy fucking drop of that expensive Scotch, Blondie, it’ll be this.” He fired the gun. The bullet smashed into the floor just inches from her head.
She moaned and shied away from the spot where the bullet had gone through the metal. But she had bigger worries. She wanted to puke. The flood of liquor in her guts pushed up on the underside of her stomach causing a gag reflex. She knew it wouldn’t do any good to vomit. She had nothing in her stomach. And the blonde stewardess had heard what they would do is she relaxed and tried to let all that liquid flow back through her asshole.
They would shoot her in the head.
It seemed the most humane thing they could do to her. Louise was wrong, though, when she thought they would fill her up with the Scotch and then leave her alone. That wasn’t their style.
“Ride’em cowboy!” cried Keegan, straddling her back and digging his heels into her side. “Come on, trot, baby. Show’em true racehorse form.”
She could only inch along like some half-dead worm. With her hands securely and painfully tied behind her back, she couldn’t even support the man’s weight. After all she had been subjected to that day, she couldn’t have anyway. But Keegan only put some of his weight on her back.
It was the painful whacks of his belt on her naked, burning ass that moved her along.
She struggled and strained to move as he ordered her. Every single muscle in her body tensed in agony. Her bloated belly swung beneath her once trim waist in a mockery of all she had been subjected to. Pain was a constant reminder of the hijacking.
The blonde woman was no longer sure that Keegan and Remington wanted the gold in exchange for the airplane and its crew. She thought now they only wanted some sick sexual kicks at the expense of the three stewardesses.
“Yahoooo!” cried Keegan. “Look at that! I’m getting my boner back. I knew the blonde chick could do it for me.”
“So, go on and fuck her. Take her like a bitch in heat,” urged Remington, enjoying the spectacle of Louise being totally degraded and abused.
“I sure as hell ain’t gonna fuck her up the asshole,” laughed Keegan. “And if you leak even one tiny drop of that shitty booze onto me, I’ll blow your fucking brains out. Got it?”
She could only shake her head weakly. The woman kept hanging onto life with a grim determination. She thought she was too young to die, but the pain was more than she could take. The way her guts churned and roiled around inside from the load of almost a quart of Scotch in her bowels made her want to die then and there.
But she hung on. She had to. She wanted revenge on these evil men. The idea that she might one day get it kept her sane and alive.
The pain raced through her as Keegan dropped down behind her. He had pulled down his pants and she felt his hairy upper thighs grinding into her tender asscheeks. She sobbed bitterly as his cock forced its way down between her tensed up buttocks and sought out the gooey slash of her cunt-lips.
“Keep it tight like that, baby,” he said. “I like tight pussy.”
She had no choice. If she relaxed for an instant, the flood of Scotch and shit from her asshole would inundate the man. It was a tempting idea. She almost released control to shit all over him until she saw Remington sitting in one of the seats, smiling, watching, waiting.
He would kill her on the spot. He stroked along the barrel of his gun. She remembered the cold steel running in and out of her cunt, her ass. He would stuff it up her and pull the trigger. The bullet would sear along her tender insides and kill her — eventually. She might not die right away. Her blood might mingle with the Scotch and shit all over the place before she croaked.
A messy death.
Louise stayed as tense as possible when Keegan’s cock began stroking back and forth along the slash of her pink, delicately scalloped cunt-lips. She felt her body begin to churn out its usual load of frothy love-oils. She hated the way she responded to cock, any cock. This was degrading in the extreme.
The men did horrible things to her and then stuck their pricks into her cunt — and she responded sexually. She hated it and couldn’t do a damned thing about it. The blonde had always enjoyed fucking before and the bodily responses came as normally as the sun coming up in the morning.
“Tight, God, is she ever tight. But it must be nearly sunset,” grunted Keegan. “I can feel the tide inside her body!”
Remington laughed at his partner’s joke. Louise wasn’t so sure it was a joke. The way the Scotch sloshed around in her intestines might be governed by the tides. It sure pulled her out of shape.
And then she gasped when Keegan found his target. He had been stroking along the edges of her pussy-lips, content to drench his prick with her thick fuck-juices. Now, he positioned himself so that the blunted head of his cock pushed hard into her cunt-hole.
He surged all the way into her pussy. For a second, his cock seemed to hang up about an inch into her fuck-tunnel. He rotated his hips and found a slightly different angle and plunged balls-deep into her cunt.