Friday the 13th

by Jefferson James

I’m not a superstitious woman, but the worst weekend of my life began on Friday, April 13, 1928. I was staring out the window just after lunchtime watching the people moving up and down Clark Street. I wondered about their lives. I didn’t want to think about mine or why I was in a flop house in that part of Chicago. My husband was dead, I was alone, and I was out of tears, or at least I thought so.

I was startled out of my musing by a light rap on the door. Pulling the shade quietly, as if somehow the person at the door could magically see me through the window, I stayed silent. Whoever this visitor was, I was sure I didn’t want to answer the door. I had no intention of seeing anyone before 9 o’clock Monday morning.

There was another knock on the door, a little louder than before, and a hushed voice said, “It’s Harvey, the super, Ma’am. I know you’re in there; I’d have seen you if’n you’d gone out.”

The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. If I didn’t answer he might have thought something was wrong. I wasn’t hiding from the police, but having them called wouldn’t be a good thing.

Unlocking the door, I opened it a crack and was nearly bowled over by Harvey as he barged into the tiny room. He was grinning from ear to ear and looking me up and down in a way that made my skin crawl. Nervously, I discreetly checked to make sure that the top of my dress was buttoned all the way up and that it hadn’t ridden up to an immodest height.

“One of Mr. Moran’s boys is down the hall leaning on the guy in apartment C,” he said, excitedly, closing the door and standing against it.

I tried not to react, but failed. I could feel my eyes opening a little wider than they should have and I involuntarily swallowed harder. Forcing myself to smile and trying my best to act nonchalant, I asked, “Why should that concern me?”

“I wasn’t surprised,” Harvey said, as if he hadn’t heard my question. “I hear things. I hear all kinds of things and I wonder about all kinds of things. I wondered why a woman like you is staying in a place like this.”

“…a woman like me?” I asked.

“You’re a high-class dame but you try to act like you ain’t,” He said, licking his lips and thrusting his hands into the pockets of his coveralls. “I wondered about that, especially when I hear things like Moran and his boys are looking for the wife of some big-time lawyer. Seems he took a lot of money that wasn’t his. They took care of him, but they are still looking for the dough and they think she has it.”

I whirled around and then thought how suspicious it must have looked. Facing Harvey would have been worse, though. In spite of trying my best to keep control of my emotions, the memory of my husband had forced a single tear to run down the side of my nose.

“I’m very busy,” I said, clearing up the small mess I had made while having lunch, attempting to give reason to my sudden turning away. “I’d appreciate it if you’d go.”

Stepping closer, Harvey said, “The next few minutes are unique. You don’t want to go running out of here because of who’s down the hall.

“Why should I want to?” I asked, feeling my throat tighten.

I felt Harvey’s hands on my shoulders and he whispered, “You don’t want to make a lot of noise for the same reason.”

“I don’t plan on making a lot of noise. Why should I?” I asked, pulling out of his grip so that he couldn’t feel me shivering with fear.

His hand gripped my shoulders again, and he said, in a hushed voice, “Just a friendly reminder. You and I are going to be real good friends, if’n you know what I mean. …friends that keep secrets and share intimate moments. You know what I mean by intimate moments, right?”

I dropped the trash I my hands, but was too thunderstruck to pick it up. I didn’t have to be a lawyer’s wife to understand the implications of talk like that.

“Get out!,” I told him, twisting and breaking free. “I don’t know who this woman is that they are looking for, but it isn’t me. Get out this instant!”

Harvey ignored me and continued, saying, “I used my pass key when you were at the grocery this morning. You ain’t got the money, but you do have that wedding picture hidden in the lining of your valise that proves who you are, Mrs. Gusenberg. You might know where the money is, but I don’t think so. I think you’re smart enough that you would have returned it if’n you could. But the fact remains that you are the lady they are looking for.”

I tried to back away from him, but the single room apartment was so small I was soon against a wall. Harvey followed close. His muscular body pressed against mine, nearly crushing me. He chuckled and said, “I think about a lot of things. I thought about how I’d spend the reward Moran might give me. I tried to think of one good reason not to call him. I even got myself his number from the operator, even though he ain’t really famous for giving rewards. Then, I thought about how pretty you are. I imagined you and I being real good friends. …friends that keep secrets and share intimate moments, very intimate moments, like I said. And then, I thought of three real good reasons not to call him.”

His strong hands gripped my narrow waist. The coarse, unshaven cheek of his face nuzzled against neck and his right hand crept upward until it was cupping my left breast as he whispered, “One,”

His left hand slid to my right breast.


His knee forced it’s way between my trembling legs. He humped my hip like a dog in heat, grinding his stiff penis against my hip as his thigh moved in and out obscenely between my legs, rubbing my privates.


I struggled with all my might, but couldn’t get loose.

“Let me go or I’ll scream!” I threatened.

My hushed voice betrayed me. Harvey laughed.

“If I’d done this a half hour ago you probably would have screamed,” he said. “If I’d waited until a half hour from now you’d probably scream then too. But, like I said before, the next few minutes are unique, a real opportunity. Right now you’re more worried about that guy downstairs than you are about what I’m doing. Moran wants you dead. I just want you.”

“Stop! Please, stop,” I begged. “You can’t do this. It’s rape. You’re not that kind of man.”

Harvey kept me pinned to the wall and began unbuttoning the top of my dress, saying, “Maybe I’m not, but I’m a real quick study, if’n you know what I mean. Now I’m going to have you, Mrs. Gusenberg. There’s no point in getting yourself slapped around or your clothes mussed up. You just let me do what I’m going to do, you hear? You let me slip my John Thomas in you like I’m planning and I’ll let you slip out of town unnoticed like you’re planning. Sounds like a fair trade to me.”

I pushed as hard as I could on Harvey’s shoulders, but I couldn’t budge him. He was easily twice as strong as me. My heart was racing so fast it hurt. I wanted to scream. But he was right, I couldn’t. I struggled with all my might. But even if I got away from him, even it I made it to the door, there was nowhere to run. He was right about that too. My lower lip began to quiver and tears gushed out of my eyes.

“Please don’t do this,” I said, blubbering so badly I could barely speak. “You’re a good man.”

As he pushed my dress off of my shoulders, Harvey shook his head and said, “No I’m not.”

Still shaking his head, he slid his fingers under the straps of my bust bodice, pulled them off my shoulders too, and said again, “No I’m not.”

The dispassionate and determined tone of his voice made my knees shake so badly I would have fallen into a quivering heap on the floor if his thigh hadn’t been crushed against my pubic bone with such force that it held me firmly in place.

“One, two, three,” he said again, each word in turn as he unfastened the three small buttons down the bust bodice’s front.

I slapped his face as hard as I could, which he instantly returned with twice the force, throwing my face sideways and making my cheek sting with pain.

“You want some more?” he asked, holding his hand up threateningly.

I didn’t answer. He grinned and bared my breasts, saying, “Nice knockers, Mrs. Gusenberg.”

Not able to look at him any longer, I turned my eyes to the ceiling and tried my best to quit bawling. If the neighbors in apartment F heard, they might draw more attention to me than I wanted. All I could do was stand there silently as I was ogled and molested.

“I won’t interfere with your plans of leaving town on Monday, but you’re going to put out,” Harvey said, matter-of-factly. “It’s as simple as that.”

His lips closed around one of my nipples, and then the other. He sucked most of one breast into his mouth, and then the other. Back and forth between them, he kissed, licked, and sucked. All the while, his hands gathered up my dress, raising its hem higher and higher, to my knees, to my suspenders, to my waist.

“I wanted to get up your slit since I first laid eyes on you,” he sniggered. “You’re one classy dame. I can barely wait till I’m lying on top of you, pumping your sweet pussy.”

Harvey’s words made my stomach turn. I had always thought that rape was a fate worse than death, but I never thought I’d actually have to make that decision. Besides, it probably wasn’t one or the other. Bugs Moran’s boys would torture me and probably rape me too as they tried to get the information I didn’t have. There really was no choice. As much as I detested the very thought, I knew as sure as the sun had come up that morning that it was only a matter of minutes before I would feel Harvey enter me and do to me what only my husband had ever done.

“Good,” I heard whispered into my ear as I quit struggling. “You play along and things will work out just fine. Monday morning I’ll take you where you want to go.”

Harvey backed off a little, releasing my raised skirt, and motioned toward the bed with a tilt of his head. I didn’t budge; I couldn’t. My pride began to return and I considered making a break for the door, even with my breasts exposed as they were. I thought that maybe I could make it down the hall and out the backdoor into the alley. It was a slim chance, but the only choice I had other than the bed I couldn’t even look at.

Summoning up every bit of strength and nerve I had, I charged into Harvey, knocking him down. I hurried to the door. He had been caught off guard and that was going to give me the time I needed. As I grabbed the doorknob, turned it and began opening the door, I heard a loud crash, angry voices and pounding footsteps. The man in apartment C was obviously trying the same thing I was. If I stepped into the hall, I’d run right into him and Moran’s goon.

Harvey heard the commotion in the hallway too, and saw me freeze. Getting to his feet slowly, he grinned and whispered, “Open the door.”

I shook my head adamantly and pulled my dress back onto my shoulders.

“Take off the dress, Mrs. Gusenberg.”

I shook my head again.

The man in the hall hadn’t made his escape. He had been caught and was being slapped, punched and threaten right on the other side of the door.

“Take off the dress, Mrs. Gusenberg,” Harvey repeated much louder than before. “Do it and do it quick. If’n you’re staying for the weekend, you don’t want me angry with you.”

Another man had joined the other two in the hallway.

“You shouldn’t have run,” he said. “That’s going to cost you another finger.”

I heard the unmistakable sound of a bone snapping followed by a tortured groan, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Harvey grinned, and asked, “Do I have to say it again, Mrs. Gusenberg? Do you want me to shout, Mrs. Gusenberg?”

For a third time I shook my head.

“Mrs. Gusenberg, this unique moment isn’t going to last much longer,” Harvey said, a little louder than I would have liked. “Now I want what I want. If’n you ain’t willing to give it to me, I’ve gotten nothing to lose by handing you over. If’n you get away or they get you, I’m left with a stiff dick and no classy broad to stick it in, either way. You, on the other hand, have a life or death decision to make. I’ll give you to the count of three. One… Two… Three…

I stalled for as long as I could. What was happening in the hall continued and didn’t sound as if it would be ending soon. Harvey looked like his patience had run out and he was about to shout my name and give me away.

“Please, I’m begging you,” I pleaded.

Harvey sneered at me, pushed me aside, and reached for the doorknob, saying, “You’re a little over-dressed for begging.”

The door began to open. Through the crack I caught a glimpse of one of the men. I recognized him as being one of Moran’s top lieutenants and someone my husband had told me was responsible for numerous things too gruesome to describe. He’d recognize me too if he saw me.

“Wait!” I said, pushing the door shut.

Harvey game me a stern look that made my knees weak. Releasing the doorknob, he roughly pushed my dress back off of my shoulders. It fell to my elbows and I caught it. He scowled at me. My heart was racing. One part of me wanted to die, but another, stronger, part of me wanted to live.

“I’m done waiting,” Harvey hissed. “Strip!”

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I nodded my head. As much as I didn’t want to, I did the only thing I could. Straightening my arms, I let my dress fall down my thin frame and into a heap around my ankles.

“Everything but the stockings and suspenders,” Harvey said, gruffly.

Still nodding, I slipped off my shoes and stepped out of the pile of clothing at my feet. Having already had its front opened by Harvey, it only took a shrug and my bust bodice fell to the floor too.

Harvey tilted his head toward the bed again. I closed my eyes. I still couldn’t look at it. The men in the hallway, however, hadn’t left. Wearing only my matching silk panties, suspenders and stockings, I folded my arms over my naked breasts and took two halting steps across the room. A strong hand closed around my arm and I reluctantly allowed myself to be lead another few steps.

I could feel Harvey’s hot breath on the back of my neck. The hand that had been guiding me pushed my arms away and began squeezing and molding my left breast. His other snaked around my waist, down over my tummy and between my legs. He caressed me for a moment through the thin silk of my panties. Then, his hand moved up and back down, slipping into them, and he began to rub me where no man other than my husband and my doctor had ever touched me.

“You’re going to turn around and sit on the edge of the bed, Sugar, and you ain’t going to be slow about it, either. Then, you’re going to let me tie your wrists together, and you ain’t going to say nothing about nothing. When I’m finished doing that, you’re going to lie down and let me fasten them to the head of the bed. There will be no stalling, begging, pleading of deal making. There’s only one offer on the table. I’ll help you get out of town Monday morning, but you’ve got to put out as much as I want between then and now.”

I was going to lie and tell him I knew where the money was and I’d give it to him, but before I could speak his hand moved from my breast and clamped over my mouth. The one petting my privates quickly withdrew and grabbed the hair on the back of my head, as Harvey said, firmly, “Shut up, sit down, and give me your hands, now!

He released me. Opening my eyes, I turned to face him and watched with dread as he pulled a length of clothesline from the back pocket of his coveralls. He knew he meant what he said about stalling. It was a do-or-die moment for both of us. The violence in the hall had stopped, and Moran’s boys would be leaving soon. In my case, however, they wouldn’t be leaving soon enough. And even though I knew the rope would see to it that Harvey would be taking me over and over again, as many times as he liked, I did what I had to; I offered my trembling hands.

By the time Moran’s enforcers were gone, I was flat on my back with my arms over my head and my hands tied securely to the bed frame. Harvey had wound the white cotton rope around my wrists numerous times and then brought it between them for several more loops that served to cinch everything tight. The other end of the rope wrapped around the frame of the bed a few times and then was tied off underneath, well out of my reach.

I looked at Harvey’s face for any sign or compassion, sympathy, or decency, and saw none. His clothing was in a pile on the floor beside my own and he stood naked, towering over me, his large hand sliding up and down my stocking clad leg. Smiling, evilly, he said, “You’re going to cooperate, one way or another.”

Then, gesturing to my privates, he added, “I can grab you by the scruff and drag you around the room, bed and all, or pull it out one hair at a time. In my tool shed I’ve got some rusty pipes and all manner of nasty things I could shove up your butt. If’n that don’t make you behave, I’ll think of something that will, understand?”

I wasn’t sure why he felt it necessary to threaten me. Even if I crossed my legs and refused to open them, he was strong enough to force them apart. As I saw it, he really didn’t need me to cooperate any more than what I had already done in allowing him to tie me to the bed.

“Understand?” he asked, again, petting the front of my silk panties.

With dread and loathing I watched as Harvey stroked himself. I nodded and he grinned. Then, placing one hand on the wall beside the bed and the other on the wall at it’s head, he leaned over my face, making it sickeningly obvious just what he had meant by cooperation. His erection moved closer and closer toward my mouth and I didn’t dare turn away. I had no choice but to submit to something I had never done, not even with my husband. My skin crawled, my stomach turned, my lips parted and my mouth was gradually filled more and more with Harvey’s stiff penis, filled until it was full.

Harvey moaned softly and told me, “You suck on it nice and easy-like, Sugar, not too hard, and I’ll do the rest.”

His hips started moving slowly and he began using my mouth much the same way he would soon be using my vagina, pushing and pulling his penis in and out, in and out. Never had I felt so violated. Never had I felt so helpless. All I could do was lie there rigid with revulsion, trying my best to cope with the disgust and degradation flowing over me like a tidal wave of filth.

I hated myself almost as much as I hated Harvey. Why had I decided to wait until Monday? Why hadn’t I risked leaving earlier? Why had I ever married a man involved with gangsters? I loved my husband, and I was sorry he was dead, but would things be any different if he were alive? It was his idea to wait until Monday. He was the one who had rented this room. Wouldn’t Harvey have simply tied him up too and forced him to watch?

The very thought of him watching me gag on Harvey’s penis, of him watching me raped repeatedly, juxtaposed with the fact that the only reason he wasn’t was because he was dead, tore at me. Self-loathing enveloped me as I realized I sincerely found some solace in the fact he wasn’t there and would never know of my utter debasement. My entire body quaked with sobs as I cried for us both.

“You’ve got a sweet mouth, Sugar, a real sweet mouth,” Harvey said, moaning softly. “You don’t suck as good as the whore in apartment F, but you’re a hell of a lot prettier. I’m willing to bet you’re tighter where it counts, too.”

Suddenly, Harvey withdrew, pulling his penis from between my lips so rapidly that they made a lewd popping sound. He grinned at me, patted my cheek, and then reached for my panties, saying, “I think it’s time I found out.”

At first, I did nothing, lying there in dread as he tugged and pulled on the last barrier between him and his goal, a straw house made of silk. My lack of cooperation was only delaying the inevitable, however, not preventing it. My panties would be coming off sooner than later. We both knew there was nothing stopping it. Even if I had kicked and flailed my legs, which I was too afraid to do under the circumstance, it would have made no difference.

Harvey glared at me and I thought further about those circumstances. The rope binding me to the bed meant I was at his mercy, unconditionally his to do with as he pleased. He was right; I didn’t want to anger him. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he was capable of worse things than just forcing himself on me. There were worse things than being his sex slave.

Being tied meant my pride was more a detriment than an asset. It would get me hurt, and quite possibly hurt badly. Attempting to survive had brought me to where I was and survival was still paramount. I knew what I was agreeing to and there was no point in resistance or recrimination. It was, on the other hand, with great reluctance that I closed my eyes, bit my lower lip and raised my hips slowly.

“Good. You play along and things will work out just fine,” Harvey said softly, echoing his response to my previous gesture of surrender. “You get into the spirit of things and you might even enjoy yourself. I probably shouldn’t count on that, though.”

When my panties had slipped down my quivering thighs to my shaking knees, I lowered my hips and lifted my feet just as reluctantly as I had my hips. Then, as a gesture of goodwill and cooperation, I parted my legs as far as my modesty would allow, making barely enough room for Harvey to join me on the bed. I felt lower than the whore in apartment F. I was submitting to loveless sex, not for money, not even for a month’s rent. …three days of whoredom for the slim possibility of evading Moran’s goons and slipping out of Chicago alive.

Harvey was hesitating and it made me feel even more like a prostitute, lying there with my legs shamefully spread, a literal open invitation. I considered closing them, but didn’t want to risk angering him. I felt forced, in spite of not wanting to see him, to instead open my eyes.

Harvey was standing near the foot of the bed. His eyes shifted from my face to my exposed privates and back again. He seemed to be contemplating something. He caressed his cheek with my panties and the inside of my thigh from the top of my stockings to my knee, nodded his head and said quietly, “No, I shouldn’t count on you liking it or even being real agreeable, maybe later, but not the first time.”

Still nodding his head, he moved toward the head of the bed. Grasping my jaw, he squeezed, forcing me to open my mouth. Before I could even imagine his intention, I felt silk against my tongue and tasted my own musk as my panties were stuffed between my lips. Out of instinct I tried to break free, to push then back out, but Harvey was having none of it.

“You leave them in there and you calm down. Do you hear me?” he asked with a touch of malice in his voice.

When I continued to struggle, he began stroking his penis with his other hand and added, “It’s for your own good. It really wouldn’t do for you to start carrying on too loudly when you first feel this sliding into you. You almost ran out into the hall before when you weren’t thinking straight. Raising a ruckus would be just as big of a mistake.”

It was almost a full minute before Harvey felt I had calmed downed enough, which he denoted by releasing my jaw and saying, “Good. You lie still and keep them in there and everything will be hunky-dory.”

Through fresh tears of humiliation, I watched as Harvey fetched a kerchief from his coveralls. Looping it around my head, he tied its ends together between my lips, effectively holding the makeshift gag my panties formed tightly within my mouth. He smiled at me, admiring his work, and then gave each of my breasts a gentle squeeze.

As Harvey returned to the other end of the bed, he hooked his finger in the top of my silk stocking and pulled outward, indicating rather crudely that he wanted my legs open. Closing my eyes again, I grudgingly moved them slowly back to where they had been previously. He tugged again. I swallowed hard and sniffled, but complied, spreading them even wider.

This time, I didn’t have to wait long before Harvey joined me on the bed. At first, he straddled one of my legs, his slobbering penis pressing against me and leaving a wet spot on my stocking. Then, he shifted and settled in with his thighs pushing my own apart even more.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

When my eyes opened, he gave me a questioning and yet intimidating look. In response, I sniffled, closed my eyes again, bent my knees slightly and tilted my pelvis.

Lifting himself, he scooted up, kissed away some of my tears, then asked, “You’re hating this as much as I’m loving it, aren’t you?”

My only answer was to cringe as he lowered himself again and I felt his rock hard erection begin to slide back and forth amid the curly hair covering my mons. His arm snaked between our thighs. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself. I felt his slick glans between my labia. I felt him nudge forward. It had all but happened.

Harvey slipped his hands under my shoulders and gripped them. I sensed he was about to thrust and I lost control. Being raped is something I don’t think any woman can prepare for. Screaming into the gag, I tried as hard as I could to get free of the rope. My head tossed and my legs flailed, but it didn’t impede Harvey in the least. The head of his penis pushed into me.

Half a dozen thrusts later, all of him was in me. Due to the fact Harvey’s girth was greater than my husband’s, my vagina was fuller than it had ever been, filled with a man I despised. I couldn’t even close my eyes and pretend. Harvey didn’t smell the same. He didn’t feel the same. He didn’t sound the same and he said things my husband never would have.

“Tight where is counts, Sugar,” he said, chuckling. “And a wild ride to boot. It’s a real good thing you’re sucking on your bloomers, good for me and good for you too. If the police did interrupt the fun, they’d take me to jail and take you straight to Moran.”

He was right, and I knew it. Moran owned the police in this part of town, if not in all of Chicago. Even gagged with my own panties I might have been making too much noise. I tried my best to calm down, being upset wasn’t making any difference anyway. Harvey’s penis was surging in and out of me and nothing short of a miracle would change that.

I kept crying, but I quit struggling. It wasn’t doing any good and all I really could do was lie there and endure. No matter how hard I tried, it wasn’t possible to ignore what was happening to me. Harvey didn’t hold me. He wasn’t making love to me; he was forcing sex on me, unabashed, unadulterated, uncaring sex for his pleasure only. In his eyes, I was just privates to plunder.

The bed began to creak louder and louder. Harvey was breathing harder and literally stabbing his penis into me. Sweat from his brow dripped onto my breasts. I was only seconds away from suffering yet another indignity. I begged with my eyes, but it did no good. Harvey grinned in my face; my distress was only adding to his enjoyment.

“Oh, God!” he said, groaning loudly. “I can’t believe I’m fucking a sexy, high-class dame like you. Here it comes, Sugar, right in your sweet slit.”

Almost instantly, I felt my vagina growing wetter and wetter as I was flooded with Harvey’s semen. I had almost stopped crying, but having a man other than my husband ejaculating inside of me was more than I could bear. Fresh tears ran down my cheeks as I tried again in vain to free myself from the rope.

Harvey’s penis continued to erupt and he continued to stroke, not missing a beat. His hands released my shoulders and slipped under my bent knees. Still thrusting with all his might, he lifted my legs so that he could penetrate me even deeper. My insides hurt and I winced with pain each time he pounded into me, which only made Harvey grin even more.

“Damn! Even slick you’re tight,” Harvey said, hooking his elbows under my knees and leaning his face close to mine. “If your husband was getting you regular for a couple of years, he was one lucky man. I’m grateful just knowing I’ll be getting you regular for a couple of days.”

I had stopped crying, and being reminded that our wedding anniversary was next week and my husband was dead should have made me start again, but this time I was out of tears. I was exhausted and I just wanted Harvey to finish and let me be. His stiff penis kept stroking on and on, on and on like a dentist’s drill in an endless nightmare.

“Relax, Sugar,” he said, responding to the look of revulsion on my face. “That was just your first helping. You’ll be getting another is just a bit, and plenty more between now and Monday morning.”

Harvey’s eyes were glazed in a concentrating sort of way, and I knew what he said was true. It was only a matter of seconds before I’d feel his semen gushing into me again. He was holding back, but he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. The unbroken rhythm of his surging penis seemed somehow more deliberate. Cringing, I turned my face away and tried to brace myself.

I felt Harvey’s hot breath on my cheek, and then I heard him whisper, “Most whores charge extra, and some, including that young piece of ass, Gracie, in apartment F who can be real obliging when she is behind in the rent, won’t even do what you’re going to do for me. Under the circumstances, though, I don’t figure I owe you anything extra except maybe tying you up a little more comfortable-like for the night. Do you understand what I’m telling you?

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but I had a dreadful suspicion. Harvey shoved his penis deep inside of me, held it there and lowered my legs. Gripping me on either side of my head, he turned my face toward him. Then, confirming my fears, he untied the kerchief knotted between my lips and began removing my panties from my mouth, telling me sternly, “Don’t fuss and don’t spill a drop. Be a good girl, don’t make me slap you around, swallow it all, and I’ll bring you some Gin to wash it down with.”

The moment my gag had been removed, Harvey started thrusting again and I started begging.

“Please, don’t. Not that, please. I agreed to… I agreed to this, but not that.”

Lifting my own legs, I crossed my ankles behind Harvey’s back in an attempt to convince him to flood my vagina again rather than my mouth. The extra depth my cooperation afforded him seemed to please him, but he still had a determined look on his face. I tightened my grip on his waist hoping to hold him there, but it was futile. He jammed his penis into me several more times, broke free of my legs, climbed up and over me, drawing back his clenched fist and said, “Open up or else.”

I obeyed. The moment my lips parted, Harvey’s penis plunged between them and began spurting stream after stream of his warm, slimy semen into my mouth and down my throat. I had to swallow it or choke on it. There was no other choice. My stomach was turning and I wanted to wretch, but all I could do was lie there sniffling and swallowing.

After what seemed like forever, the deluge ended and Harvey withdrew. He wiped my mouth with the kerchief and climbed off of me and the bed. Fondling my breasts, he smiled and told me, “That was great. You’re going to be doing that again.”

I didn’t have to long to wait, either. True to his word, Harvey brought me a cup of Gin. He untied me and I drank it down as quickly as I good. He allowed me to wash my privates using a basin he supplied along with a chamber pot since everyone at the flop house shared the same bathroom. We had a small dinner which ended with him smiling at me and saying, “It’s time to spread them again, Sugar. I’m recharged and ready to have another go at you.”

I moved from the chair to the bed. Harvey didn’t feel the need to tie me this time. He climbed unceremoniously between my legs, had sex with me for several minutes and again flooded my mouth with his semen and forced me to swallow it.

“You’ll get used to the taste,” he told me, handing me another cup of Gin. I didn’t know if he was referring to his semen or the Gin, but I doubted it in either case.

Harvey forced me to satisfy his carnal urges twice more that night, ejaculating in my vagina the first time and on my face and breasts the second time. He tied me tightly and left, returning just before dawn so that I could use the toilet and so he empty my chamber pot, and or course so that he could take liberties with my mouth once I was tied again.

Later that morning I was awakened by Harvey climbing on top of me. I let out a little shriek of surprise and he quickly covered my mouth. Suddenly, the horrible reality of my situation came rushing back into my conscious mind and my heart sank. Seeing the despair in my eyes, he removed his hand and kissed me on the lips.

“Good morning, Sugar,” he said, as he began to painfully thrust his way into me. “It’s a wonderful morning. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and I’m fucking a gorgeous dame. It don’t get much better than that.”

He hadn’t even taken time to untie me. My arms ached, my hips and back ached, and my bladder felt like it was going to burst. Fortunately, being the first session of the day, Harvey didn’t last long. He was soon, as he so crudely put it, “Feeding me sperm for breakfast.”

I was untied long enough to use the chamber pot, eat some actual food, and to service Harvey while bent over the breakfast table. He then offered me my choice of being tied to the bed or the chair for the first part of the day. I chose the chair, not realizing my mouth would be the obvious place for him to satisfy is mid-morning urge.

Harvey released me again at lunchtime and I was only subjected to having my breasts sucked on and his fingers in my vagina, after my meal. Later in the day I wasn’t as lucky. He returned once in the afternoon and once in the early evening, taking me both times. I was beginning to imagine what a whore’s life was like and I felt sympathy for Gracie, the young prostitute I hadn’t even met but whom certainly couldn’t deserve a life like this.

I don’t know how many times Harvey visited me that night. What sleep I got was fitful and my nightmares were filled of the same thing as any time I may have been awake. The trip to the toilet, the sex and cleanup afterwards were definitely real. My vagina had been flooded at least once more just before dawn as evidenced by the wet spot on the mattress I found myself lying in when I awoke.

Sunday morning, Harvey was late arriving with breakfast. He seemed uncharacteristically distant. We ate in silence, had sex in silence, and then he tied me to the bed, using a wet dish rag to clean me himself without saying a word. I was terrified. Had he changed his mind about letting me go? Was he stupid enough to believe Moran would pay a reward for me?

“Just keep telling yourself it’ll all be over in the morning, Sugar,” he said, gagging me again with my panties and the kerchief, and blindfolding me with a strip of cloth from his back pocket. “It’ll all be over in the morning. One last piece of ass after breakfast and I’ll help you sneak out of town, but until then you’re mine to do with as I please.”

I heard him leave and heard him return roughly an hour and a half later. Something was wrong. The room didn’t smell the same. I felt a hand on my breast, but it wasn’t calloused and so obviously wasn’t Harvey’s. Another hand slid across my tummy toward my crotch. I tried to roll away and onto my side, but two more hands grasped my ankles. Then, I heard Harvey’s voice from between my feet.

“It’s just more of the same, Sugar,” he said, forcing my legs open. “Just lie still and everything will be hunky-dory.”

The other man’s hand moved through my thick, curly pubic hair and the tip of one of his fingers slipped into my vagina. I tried to yank my legs free, but Harvey was too strong. He spread them even wider and said, “She’s a classy broad and tight where it counts, just like I said. She’s worth a C note if she’s worth a penny.”

“Fifty dollars,” the man said, dryly. “She ain’t that tight. I’ve have much tighter. If you get them young enough and you get them first, they’re tighter than any woman her age.”

I couldn’t believe it! I knew Harvey was a low-life bastard, but I never imagined he would pimp me out to someone else. Whoever this man was, he sounded even more repulsive than Harvey and that made matters even worse. I hadn’t even considered the thought that I might catch a disease or worse. I prayed Harvey wouldn’t accept his counter offer.

“Did I say that she’s the wife of a local big shot?” Harvey asked.

The man removed his hands from my naked, trembling body and said, “Yeah, about twenty times. Fifty dollars.”

“He owes me some money so I snatched her and I’m making her work it off, but you’re the first to get a crack at her. What do you say, seventy-five for her slit and for another twenty-five she’ll swallow your sperm.” Harvey said, with an uneasy tone.

For the third time the man repeated his offer, saying flatly, “Fifty Dollars.”

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Then, despair and dread swept through me like the cold wind of a blizzard as I heard the horrible sound of a belt unbuckling and of a zipper being lowered. Harvey must have agreed to sell me cheap. Sensing I’d struggle, he tightened his grip on my ankles and said softly, “It’s just more of the same, Sugar.”

Then, in a louder voice he told the man, “Your dick only goes up her slit, not in her mouth. You can sperm her there or on her tits, and nowhere else unless you want to pay extra.”

Under my blindfold, tears began gushing out of my eyes. I don’t know why it was any different being raped by a man whose face I had never seen, but it was. It somehow made him seem even more inhuman. Harvey had forced himself on me repeatedly, and in a way I had become inured. So it wasn’t more of the same as he seemed to think it was. I was right back at the beginning.

I tried to kick my legs free. I knew escape was impossible and my defilement certain, but I wanted to hurt these men. I wanted to hurt them badly. Screaming into my gag as if it would give me more strength, I twisted and turned. I fought with everything I had, but to no avail.

I felt the man’s hand on my left breast, then his mouth on my right. A moment later, his body was lying atop mine. His other hand guided his penis through my labia and he began to enter me. He let out a quiet moan of pleasure, and Harvey said, “Didn’t I tell you she was a great piece of ass?”

“The tits ain’t bad, but they ain’t great, either,” the man said, pulling his mouth from by breast, scraping it with his teeth as he did so. “The cunt is okay for the mileage, but I’ve had my dick in tighter holes.”

Harvey lifted my feet into the air as the man gripped my shoulders. I had never felt so objectified in my life. I was just a hole with a pair of makeshift pacifiers. My body was just something soft to lie on and my legs were merely in the way. I wasn’t a person at all. I could have been unconscious or even comatose and it wouldn’t have made any difference.

In and out, in and out, the man slammed into me, pulled back and slammed into me again and again. Harvey tugged on my ankles, pulling me into each thrust as if he felt it necessary to add extra value to his customer’s purchase. My vagina hurt like it never had and my spirit was all but dead.

“How much to make her eat it?” the man raping me asked.

Harvey released my legs and I heard him moving toward the head of the bed as he said, “Twenty-five dollars, like I said before.”

“No dice, I’ll give you ten,” he was told.

My head had been turned to the side. Harvey gripped it with both hands and forced me to face my unseen assailant, and countered with, “Make it twenty.”

The man whose penis was stoking my vagina must have shaken his head. Harvey released me and seconds later I felt a slippery warmth filling me. The man began to move erratically and groan loudly as he continued to ejaculate. I had tensed up when Harvey began to remove my gag, but now fell limp. There was nothing more to resist. Another act of defilement had reached its disgusting conclusion.

After climbing off of me, the man didn’t dress and leave like I assumed he would. Instead, he and Harvey sat at the table and spoke in hushed voices. The smell of cigarette smoke reached my nose and the phrase “A C-note and nothing less” repeatedly reached my ears.

After more than twenty minutes, I heard the feet of the chairs scrape across the floor as they both stood up.

“Throw in the mouth,” the man said, “and we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

Harvey didn’t answer. The two of them picked me up bodily and turned me onto my belly. As I lie there dreading what I might hear next, the man starting counting and dropping money onto my back.

“Twenty, Forty, Sixty, Eighty, One hundred.”

My face, which I had turned to the wall, was forcibly turned the other way, and I was certain I knew why. As he untied the kerchief holding my panties in my mouth, Harvey said, “…to start with, but not after.”


The moment my silk panties were removed, a limp penis replaced them. It obviously wasn’t Harvey’s, tasting of semen and my own vaginal secretions. The man who has just raped me and was obviously about to do so again hadn’t even bothered to wipe himself with a damp cloth.

I wanted to bite him. I wanted to regurgitate all over him. Instead, I sucked gently and sobbed quietly. It was all I could do. I was totally helpless and I didn’t dare do anything other than cooperate. I had no idea what sort of violence this man could be capable of.

Harvey picked up his money and I heard him pacing back and forth from the bed to the door. The man’s penis had stiffened rapidly within my mouth. Grasping my hair, he began moving his erection back and forth between my lips faster and faster.

Suddenly, he withdrew and got onto the bed on his knees, straddling my thighs. Harvey quickly jammed my panties back into my mouth and tied them in place. The man was stroking himself hard and fast as evidenced by the way the bed moved. Then, much to my surprise, I heard the door to the apartment open and Harvey say, “I’ll be back in a bit. I’ve got something to take care of.”

I couldn’t believe it! He left me there alone with this man. What was he thinking? Then, as if answering my unasked question I heard a snicker and a voice filled with malice say, “He’s going soft on you, baby. He don’t want to see you get what you’re getting. He don’t want to see you hurt.”

Before the words could even register, I was writhing in searing pain as my anus was brutally invaded by that despicable man’s penis. Throwing my head from side to side, I screamed into my gag. I pulled against the rope and attempted to throw his off of me, but he only pushed deeper and deeper into my tortured bottom. For a moment I though I would blackout because the pain was so intense.

My spirit was hurting as badly as my rectum. I had heard of such depraved acts, but I never thought I would be subjected to anything of the sort. I wished I could die and probably would have killed myself if I could. All of the humiliating and deplorable things I had down in the last few days, nothing came close to being as horrible.

“Now that’s what I call tight,” the brute said, chuckling. I’ll bet it’s the first time you’ve ever had Greek. I know the feel of a virgin bung hole.”

Fast and furious, he went at me, burying himself in my bowels, yanking out and lunging in again, out and in, out and in. How long my mental anguish and physical torment lasted, I don’t know. Perhaps I did black out. I only vaguely heard him grunting like the beast he was when he finally did ejaculate.

When Harvey returned, the man was gone and my aching backside was drenched with his slimy semen. Without a word, Harvey wiped my buttocks, back and privates clean. I was hurting so badly I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. I was too sore to vent any of my anger. I just laid there loathing all men.

“I’m sorry,” Harvey said, softly. “I really needed the money. I couldn’t think of any other way to get it. You see, the guy in apartment C isn’t the only one who owes Moran money. If I didn’t pay up, his boys would come looking for me and probably find you too. I hope you understand.”

I didn’t understand. I had money in my purse I would gladly have given him rather than suffer what I had. He didn’t even consider me as a person or he would have asked if I knew of an alternative to what he had done. He thought of me as a piece of meat. He had used me like a piece of meat and he had sold me like a piece of meat.

That night, Harvey didn’t make his usual nocturnal visits. I was forced to wet the bed, adding further to my debasement. He arrived early in the morning and removed my gag. I could see his bulging erection through the front of his overalls. He ran his thumb over my lips, told me again he was sorry, and then untied me.

He eyed my naked body the entire time I bathed and dressed. He discreetly touched himself several times, but didn’t lay a hand on me. Then, true to his word he drove me to the train station two towns away. I should have been glad to be free, but I was emotionally numb. It seemed like a hundred years had passed since Friday the thirteenth.

The End

(c) Copyright March 2007 by Jefferson James. All rights reserved. No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except for a single copy, by and for the person reading this notice, for private reading.