Lust
Chapter eight: The motel.
She woke up many hours later—she could not be sure how long she had been out. She opened her eyes slowly, completely disoriented, and found that she was tucked neatly into a soft bed. She immediately felt nauseous, but fought the urge to throw up. Looking around she realized that she was in some kind of a seedy motel. The heavy curtains were drawn closed so the room was dark, but rays of sunlight filtered between the cracks in the curtain and lit up a web of bright spots on the tan carpet. She could see dust particles playing in and out of the light. Slowly she became aware of a steady thumping and moaning. It was like out of a dream until she realized that someone was fucking hard in the next room. She almost retched again as she remembered what had happened to her the night before. Then she realized that she had no idea how she got to the motel.
She lay in bed for a few more moments listening to the muted fucking filtering through the wall—it was intensely powerful. She could hear the woman screaming out in what must have been a mind-shattering multi-orgasm. Then she sat up.
Immediately chills shot up her spine as she saw the note taped to the TV. In bright red lipstick someone had written, “Don’t call the police! We have her.”
There was an arrow from the letter “r” in “her” to the ‘on’ button on the TV. Kris didn’t know what to do. She looked around in terror, but there was no one there. Then she noticed the phone sitting by her bedside. It had a large “X” scrawled on its dial pad.
She sat shivering for a few minutes, then slowly, with great dread, she approached the TV and took off the note. She sat back on the edge of the bed and turned on the TV.
Slowly the picture lit up—it was a grainy shot of a woman on her hands and knees being reamed from behind by a large black man. The video was obviously amateur—taken by a cheap camcorder. The woman was thrashing her head back and forth so her face was mostly hidden in an angry splash of dark black hair but her features looked vaguely familiar. When she realized who it was she screamed in utter shock.
“OH MY GOD, TANIA!” she screamed, running in a half-circle frantically. She didn’t know what to do. At first she made for the door until she realized that she was only half dressed, then she looked back at the TV only to see Tania bending down farther and pressing her chest and face into the bed, giving the man behind her deeper access. Suddenly Kris recognized the room—it looked the same as her motel room.
“She’s next door!” she blurted, slowly coming to the realization that she had been listening to her best friend being fucked all this time. She had no idea how long.
“OH MY GOD Tania! Tania!” she screamed as she ran to the wall and started pounding on it with her open hand and calling her friend’s name. Glancing back at the TV she could see that Tania had buried her face in a pillow and was screaming into it as her body shook. The black guy, too, was tipping his head back, evidently cumming hard and deep into her best friend. In the background she could see another man waiting to take his turn.
“NO! Please NO!” Kris screamed, but suddenly the picture went blank. In the silence that followed there was no more creaking or muffled moaning from next door—nothing but the steady crackling of the snowy gray TV screen and Kris’s sobbing.
Then the phone rang.
Kris jumped in fright and stared at it. With trembling fingers she picked it up and brought it to her ear.
“Kris?” a deep male voice said on the other end.
Kris remained silent.
“We are the Organization.” the voice continued.
In the other room the creaking began again—Kris could hear her friend moan deeply.
“You BASTARDS!” she screamed, “STOP IT! Stop! Please leave us ALONE!” She was petrified and hysterical.
“Now Kris...” the voice on the other end took on a condescending tone.
“You fucking bastards! Stop or...or I’m going to call the police!” she screamed, looking down at the sticky red buttons with the “X” on them.
There was silence on the other end. Then the TV went back on. Kris could see Tania again: she was still on her knees but another man was behind her, drilling her wildly. The man grabbed a tussle of her hair and pulled her head back so that it clearly faced the camera. Tania’s eyes were wild and frantic—she was definitely drugged, but Kris could see, even through the poor quality of the video, an intense desperation. The girl was utterly overwhelmed—she had no defenses. Spittle shot from her mouth as the guy behind her drove forward sending her full breast sloshing forward and then back. Her hands clenched and it looked like she was going to cum again. Then Kris watched in terror as the man picked up a large silver gun with his free hand and pressed it between her friend’s shoulder blades.
The man rode her like that, using her hair as a handle to pump himself into her. If Tania was aware of the gun she didn’t make a sign, instead she grunted deeply every time the man slapped into her.
“NO!” Kris screamed again, “No! Please!”
“Kris...” the voice on the phone resumed, even and steady, “Kris, shut up.”
Kris continued screaming all the same, pounding on the wall with one hand hysterically and crying in great heaving fits. The man continued to talk quietly.
“...You have a choice, Kris, but you must make it quickly. You must promise to obey—or your friend dies. It’s that simple. We’ll have a race—if you can promise to follow my directions before your friend cums then she lives...but if she cums first, then she dies...”
“Wha..?” Kris stuttered, not quite understanding. She looked at the TV and saw Tania arching her back.
“I’m sure you’ll hear the shot.” The man added, helpfully.
“What? OK! Ok—whatever you say!” she quickly agreed.
“Say the words, Kris.”
Kris looked at her friend. Tania was really almost there—her eyes were shut, her mouth open, her hands clenched tight, her back arched...
“I’ll obey! I’ll obey!” she screamed just as her friend screeched like a cannon shooting off. The orgasm was long and hard. The man behind her held her hair tightly, pulling her head back and pouring his sperm into her steadily. Kris could see the lacy web of Tania’s veins outlined against her neck muscles as they bulged and strained. Her eyes fluttered open briefly revealing nothing but white. Then she came again as the man slapped his wet member once more deep into her and held himself inside, riding her contractions. Her voice seemed to die in her throat with a gurgle—Tania experienced the rest of her tremendous orgasm in silence.
The TV screen went blank.
There was no shot.
“OK, Kris, This is what I want you to do...” The voice resumed.