Broke, Fat, Black, and Ugly.
by DiscipleN
Chapter 8
A long silence followed. Stace tried to ignore the worst possibility. Had he killed me? Fear drove her then. She slipped off of her bed and carefully opened her bedroom door.
“It’ll strengthen your neck muscles.” Terry spoke sternly in a soft voice from the living room.
What was happening?
Stacy slunk into the hall and along its shielding wall. She dared to peek into the room. She saw me with my head buried under his stomach. It slowly rose and fell. I was rapidly losing strength.
She guessed. Under the black intruder’s mass of fat I was blowing his cum soaked dick.
“Suck up every drop, Slut. This is what you should have done this morning, but you left me there with cum dripping into the cot and the blanket!” He remonstrated. “I had to clean that shit up and the fucking, upper bathroom!”
My daughter ducked back, fresh tears seeping out. Would the nightmare ever end?
“I saw you there, baby slut.” Terry’s sharp eyes informed his sharp mouth. “Look all you want. You’ve already done more than I could have asked for.” He laughed.
Stace ran back to her room.
After I finished cleaning every drop of Terry’s cum that had spilled out of my daughter’s mouth, he let me up. He even massaged my sore neck muscles. I hated him more for that. I couldn’t sit on the floor or even a cushion. My ass kept burning for hours.
At one point, I checked on Donald. He slept like the dead. If only. The awful thought floated through my brain. That might be a mercy. I made myself supper. Terry didn’t ask for any. That struck me strange. I’d never seen him eat. Why was he so fat?
After eating, I dared to approach my daughter’s door. “Stace?” I didn’t know what to say beyond that.
“Go away.”
“CUNT!” Terry bellowed from the living room. “And turn off the lights.”
He sucked on my tits that night before pushing me down onto his cock and falling asleep. I stared into the dark, hating myself for the comfort his arms gave.
In the middle of the night, his cum gushed me awake. I didn’t hesitate. I got up and started licking him.
“Good slut.” He patted me, half asleep.
I went to the bathroom and wiped myself. Stacy opened her door as I returned down the hall. “Mamma.” She held out her hand. We fell into each other arms. I was naked. She hadn’t changed out of her school clothes.
“Will he go away again?”
“I don’t know.”
“I acted awful, Mamma. He twisted me, with his words. I swear, I was trying to help.” She cried.
“Did you do the laundry?” I heard myself ask.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” I hissed. “I have to work tomorrow. I can’t go in dirty clothes!”
“Mamma, why are you being mean?” She looked afraid.
“My boss is going to fire me, if I miss a day again.” I growled. “Don’t you understand?”
“I’ll go to the all night laundromat.” Stace looked at me as if I were a monster.
“You can’t go by yourself, this late.”
“I’ll go with her.” Terry roused his voice. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“You raped her!” I yelled, losing the my last bit of sanity.
“Get your cunt over here, and shut the fuck up.” He ordered before tumbling off the broken couch and struggling to his feet. He reached for his filthy clothes.
I went to him. I feared him.
“We’ll all go.”
I grabbed a pair of Donald’s shorts and a t-shirt, while my husband snored blissfully.
The time was half past two AM. We marched along an empty sidewalk for six blocks. Each of us carried a load of clothes. The night was too cold for shorts. I had suffered far worse that day. The laundromat’s bright lights and ice hard surfaces disincentivized most of the homeless. Terry roused three drunks and flung them back into the streets. We took over the place.
Stace challenged him. “I brought a blanket for you. So you can wash your damn clothes. You stink up our home.” She meant it literally and figuratively.
He laughed and looked at me. “Little bitch has a point.” He pulled the overstretched shirt from his back and dropped his pants. He never wore underware. Stace looked away. I wrapped him in the blanket.
We filled two big washers and waited.
Ten minutes into the soak cycle, Terry ruffled his blanket. “Get your ass under here.” He was sitting on a folding bench. I gave my daughter a helpless look.
She got up and walked outside. When she heard the villain grunting, she looked in on us. My head was poking through the blanket. My hands struggled to keep it around us while he humped his prick into my cunt, pushing me away and pulling me back with his hands. My legs were getting stronger at holding up his belly that flounced on my back.
The washers finished just before he did. Stace strode in as if nothing was happening. She separated the items into different temperature dryers. After paying the minimum to extract the water from our clothes, she strolled back out. By then I was sucking Terry’s cock clean.
The clothes came out damp, but we could hang the important ones to dry in time for work and school.
I was ironing my business suit at five in the morning, when Terry called to me. “Cunt.”
I woke three hours later, cum gushing into my stuffed sex. Climbing off, I turned and opened my mouth.
“Go.” Terry grumbled. “I’ll let you off the hook, this one time.”
I got to work, five minutes early. My phone rang.
“Mom. He’s taking a shower.” Stace reported.
“How’s your dad?”
“He’s up, but not happy. Terry told him to make me breakfast.”
I imagined our nemesis cramming himself into our tiny stall of a shower. I feared his weight might crack the catch basin.
She hung up before I could ask if she was all right. Of course she wasn’t, but a mother has to ask, no matter how stupid the situation.
I squirmed on my office chair all day. My ass was still sore. By the end of the day it was less so, but by then I was too antsy to sit still. When the big hand pointed exactly at five PM, I bolted out of the office, not caring if Melissa had more work for me.
I raced to the closest downtown LINK stop. I stood, unable to allow myself to rest.
Disembarking, I hurried home. I stopped in front of my door, keys in hand. Tears burned my cheeks, fearing the worst. I stamped my feet and plugged the key into the lock. Twisting, I pushed the door open.
Stacy and Donald sat at the kitchen table. He looked away when I entered. I had nothing to say to him.
“Mamma.” Stace trembled. “He said he was going to get me a job.”
I looked but didn’t see him.
“He left at noon.” My daughter’s words caused my legs to weaken from relief. I sat at the table and finally regarded my husband.
“Buy me a gun, Ruby.” His hands were just beginning to tremble from withdrawal. “I’ll do it without involving you. I’ll go to prison for you two.”
His erratic offer tempted me. “Where’s your credit card?”
Donald looked away again. “He took it.”
“We’ll report it lost. They’ll lock it out in a day.” Before making that call, I told Stace, “Don’t go to school. Don’t leave the house, until I figure out some way to protect you.”
Stace glared at me. I wasn’t sure why, but she glanced at her downcast father and shook her head. Had she not told him? I felt stupid for implying something had happened.
I called the bank and had them cancel my husband’s card. I told them not to replace it. Donald looked hurt. I ignored him.
Retreating to our bedroom, I shut them out and reverse dialed Terry’s phone call.
“Hello, Mulgrew’s Beds for Dollars.” It was the old man who thought I was a whore.
“I-is Terry there?”
“Nah. Ain’t seen him for a couple days. If you do, tell him one of the flops has work for him.”
“What kind of work would that be?”
He hung up.
I dared to go grocery shopping but told Stace to prop a chair against the front door. I splurged to try and break the desolate mood haunting our home. We ate roast chicken and green beans for supper with pound cake for dessert. My husband and daughter managed to exchange a few sentences while they washed the dishes.
I escaped into my bed and slept until, in the middle of the night, a dream of cum filling my pussy roused me. Donald was asleep beside me. I woke him with an attempted blow job. His cock never got hard. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I’m so cold!”
I went and brushed my teeth before returning to bed, facing away from my husband, but an hour passed before I slept again.
I took my time walking to work the next day. Terry sat on a box, at his usual street corner, shaking his cup of pennies. He pretended not to see me, but I felt his eyes. I leaned down to put a dollar in his cup. “I’ll never let you touch my daughter again.”
He grinned. “She touched me, Slut.”
“Get out of our lives!”
“Now how can I do that, when your husband needs the medicine only I can supply for free?”
“He’d rather die than stick another needle in himself, to protect Stace.”
Terry snorted. “Count the marks on his limbs.”
My anger dredged for something to anger him. “I cancelled the credit card you stole.”
He grinned and plucked the card from his jacket pocket. “I’m done with it.” He offered it.
I threw it away and stomped to the LINK stop.
About an hour before my work shift ended the phone rang. “Mom, there are movers here. They claim they were hired to take our couch away.”
Fucking hell. That’s what Terry charged against our credit! I hadn’t had time to check the bank’s log of card purchases. Then I thought, without a couch, Terry might be less likely to invade our home. “Check the walkway. If you don’t see Terry, let the men take it.”
“Uh, okay.” Stace didn’t sound happy.
Terry wasn’t on the sidewalk that evening. Seeing the empty corner gave me a foreboding urge to eat BBQ. I couldn’t shake the feeling for the rest of my walk home.
Our couch’s broken halves had been dumped on the street in front of our apartment. Real fear gripped me, and I ran all the way to our door. I got the key in the lock on the first try. Opening the door triggered a deep shout. “CUNT!”
Huffing, I sprinted into the apartment. “Stace?” I didn’t see her in the kitchen or the living room. I did see a brand new couch. It’s upscale design clashed with every other stick of furniture. It must have cost thousands!
I started for the hall.
“Get your cunt over here, Bitch! If you take another step, I’ll pound the daylights out of your ass. The baby slut is busy in the bathroom helping out the family budget. Don’t you dare disturb her!”
I froze, except for the warm tears that seeped out of my eyes.
The men sent to haul away our broken couch had been a ruse. They even wore a name brand mover’s uniforms. It’s possible they did work for that company, but they were doing this job for their own benefit. Terry had waited outside the apartment. The new couch was no ruse, but the when the movers returned with the replacement, Stace didn’t think to call me. She thought I knew about all of it.
After installing the couch’s final parts, they were professionals or so Terry claimed, they let him in. Stace ran to her room and put a chair behind its flimsy door. She yelled for her daddy, but he was shaking uncontrollably on our bed, almost delirious.
“Hey, Mr. Drangren, you said there wouldn’t be any hassle.”
“I just need a few words with her. Go smoke a joint or play a phone game. Just don’t get any shit on my couch.”
“No, sir.” Stace heard both of the movers pay their respect. Mr. Drangren?
He knocked on her door. “It’s your first day on the job, baby.”
“I’m in high school, you sick fuck!”
“Yeah, but you act like a baby. Honestly, I’m surprised your mother stands up for you. I’m not surprised your father is a useless junkie only good for mouth service. This job pays real money, Tart. Each of those men here is going to pay you two hundred dollars, for next to nothing on your part.”
“That’s disgusting!”
“The only thing disgusting about money is not having any. You want to end up on the streets? I’m disgusting, but I’m peaches and roses compared to what I’ve seen and done having lived from a pennies cup.”
I’ve seen what you’ve done. You’ve destroyed us.
“I made a few, difficult changes. Your family was about to sink into the ghetto swamps. None of you have the guts to suffer what it takes to better your lives.”
If I had been in the conversation, I would have spent days telling the fat bastard of my suffering to keep my family afloat!
“You want to make me a whore! That’s the worst you can be, even in our neighborhood.”
“You got it wrong, Baby. These guys aren’t gonna touch you. They gave me their word. They don’t dare break their word to me, I promise you that.”
“You’re a fucking liar! Go to hell and take those asswads with you.”
“You gonna let the bitch talk shit about us?” An angry voice came from the living room.
“I’ll let her cut your dicks off, if you interrupt me again.” Terry barked.
“No jailbait is worth this.”
“Shhh, you gotta trust Terry. He never done us wrong.” Another voice calmed the first.
“Real winners you’d pimp me to.” Stace foolishly braved to say.
“You got me wrong. I don’t want a penny of the money you make. The only one you gotta split with is your mamma.”
“Why would I do that?”
“House gets fifty percent. That’s the rule. You abide by the rule, or I won’t find easy money like this for you ever again.”
“I don’t want the money.”
Terry laughed. “Of course you do. All teens want money. Think of all them bitches you know at school. They ain’t doing shit for the money they suck out of their mammas’ titties. You could be making bank for yours, and show those school bitches how good real money can set you up.”
Two days ago, she had almost begged her friends for laundry change. It would have been the most shameful moment in her sophomore year. The only thing that stopped her was the certainty that her friends would lord their alms over her for the rest of the year. “You said they wouldn’t touch me. You lied last time, when you said you wouldn’t touch me!”
“Heh, kinda but not on purpose. You wouldn’t hold a little accident against old Terry? After all it was your mouth that made me feel so good, I let go of my fat.”
“You don’t do anything by accident.” Stace was beginning to understand our nemesis.
“You didn’t wash my dick by accident. You chose to do that. These men will pay two hundred for nothing more than that.”
“They want me to wash them?”
“Just their dicks, but I won’t lie. They’re going to want to squirt.” Terry warned. “If you wanted to wash their full, naked bodies, you could charge another hundred. Heh!”
They wanted her to jack them off. Stace’s stomach churned, remembering how revoting Terry’s cum had felt when it shot down her throat. Terry was a liar, but he wouldn’t lie for anybody else. She could earn four hundred dollars for ten minutes of work. As much as the act disgusted her, after her father’s accident, she had been constantly afraid of homelessness.
“If you’re lying, this time, Terry, you’re going to have to kill my mom to keep her from calling the police. Even you couldn’t escape cops acting on a pedophile charge.”
“Your mamma’s going to live a long time, if I have my way. Now stop stalling your customers, and go set up what you need to wash them. I’ll send them one at a time to the bathroom.
“Remember, you’re not just making money for yourself. Your mom is going to hate it, but she can’t refuse the half you’ll pay her. She just bought a three thousand dollar couch!”
It was just washing someone, like washing a dog. She told herself before going to the bathroom, ignoring Terry’s delight. Owners wash their pet’s privates, don’t they? Stace couldn’t convince herself that the act would be innocent, but she was alone with three men all wanting the same thing, her capitulation. If she kept refusing, there was a strong possibility of the worse thing happening.
Terry sent the first man in. He locked the door behind him. It was a lousy lock, Stace knew, but if she screamed for Terry, it would take him that much longer to protect her – if he wasn’t lying about protecting her.
“Your a pretty white girl.” It was a strange thing for a white man to say. He was coarse shaven and smelled like three days of sweat. He smelled much better than Terry had when he’d suckered her into tasting him. The man pulled down his coveralls and his dick flopped out, half hard. A worse odor wafted from it. She winced. The dick was almost as long as Terry’s but much thinner.
She looked to the sink basin and grabbed the soaking washcloth. She wrung it damp before turning back – to a knife at her throat.
“Shhhhhhh, little bitty bitch. Say one word, and you’ll bleed from deep inside your neck.”
Gods! He’s going to kill me! Her heart pounded and her ears hissed from racing blood.
“You kapeesh?”
Stace nodded.
He whispered. “I didn’t come here to spend two hunnert dollars on a hand job. I don’t care if you be in kindergarten. You’re gonna suck me and swallow too. Got it?”
Her eyes filled with tears. She nodded, but found strength enough to offer the cloth.
“Yeah, you can wipe it good, first.” The knife pointed steady and calm. The man grinned with a tooth missing when she kneeled before him.
Stace couldn’t focus on the stinky dick, but her hands put up a fair front, daubing and rubbing it. The shaft hardened as she wiped it clean, but her greatest effort was to keep from bawling. Tears streamed down her neck. She feared every horrible touch of his dick would be her last.
“It’s good now. Don’t delay. I doan want Terry butting in cause you slow. Now open up, I’m gonna stick it in.”
Fear drove her reaction. Never in her life would Stace have sucked a stranger, but at his command, and the knife at her throat, her mouth slowly obeyed.
He fed cock into her quick but only half of it.
“I’d fuck you deep but can’t risk you choking loud.” He really was afraid of Terry. Stace took a tiny bit of reassurance from the man’s obvious fear of being caught.
“Now you suck, baby. Suck me and lick. Maybe you never done that before, but it ain’t difficult. I know, cuz I been in prison. I ain’t no gay, but you learn to survive.” The knife he held took on new meaning.
It tasted soapy. Stace used her girlfriend’s boyfriend’s trick with spit. She grimaced but sucked and licked the few inches of cock in her mouth. She worked it with a lot of spit and tonguing.
“Mmmmm. That pretty good.” He told her. His dick got harder in Stace’s mouth. He put a hand behind her light brown hair. “Faster, face bitch.” He forced her head to bob faster without stuffing her face with cock.
Her head dove and pulled up against the man’s fuck tool. She licked and sucked. It didn’t taste bad anymore. She couldn’t taste anything. Reality’s stimuli faded, all except the unwavering knife at her throat. He had pulled it back, to give her room to face fuck his cock, but the distance was hardly a second longer for a thrust.
Stace cried silently and tried to keep her suck noises to a minimum. She didn’t know why she was afraid of Terry finding out that this evil man was raping her mouth. The knife made her afraid of everything except disobeying.
“Nnnggghh…” He moaned. “Good suck bitch. Keep it up, and I’ll cum. You are a pretty thing, white baby.” He closed his eyes.
She told herself to be a baby, suck like a baby, anything to please the man and keep him from cutting her throat. She whimpered.
“Yeah, I like the crying. Ohhhh!!” He grunted. His pelvis twitched, but he didn’t cum. The dick in my daughter’s mouth pulsed against her tongue.
My baby bobbed her head as the hand behind it directed. She sucked and whined softly, hoping it would be over soon.
“AAAAHHHHHGGGHHHH!!!” The man cried out. His cock lurched and sprayed hot cum into the girl’s mouth. “Suck it all!” He hissed, catching himself from yelling that too.
The cum spurted, and Stace swallowed. She obeyed, managing to drink every drop. His dick spewed the last of his semen like a closing faucet. He shook his hips, fucking the softening prick between her lips to prolong lingering sensations. “Yeah, that was two hundred bucks, kid.” He pulled out of my daughter’s mouth, pocketed the knife, and pulled on his coveralls. “Don’t tell Terry about what I did, and I’ll pay you three hundred next time.”
Stace was on the verge of bawling.
He leaned over. “It wasn’t so bad, now. Don’t be crying.” He puffed, “It weren’t worth three hunnert, but I owe Terry more than that. He was good to me – got me a lighter sentence, after I was in-prisoned.” He backed away, worried my baby couldn’t hold it together, ready to run. “You might learn to like it. We could become right friends, and you’d make good money. Hell, you just cost me three weeks of spend money, after rent and food. Took you lessa five minutes ta earn it!
“It weren’t so bad, right?” He unlocked the door. “Shhhh, now. Hush and wipe your face. Arnie ain’t too smart, but he got a good heart. He’ll be okay, and you’ll get another two hundred.” The man pulled a wad of twenties and set it on the towel rack. “I give you three hundred next time. Now, shhhhh.”
Stace sniffed and wiped her eyes with the damp washcloth. The soap stung her eyes worse. The man was gone. She pulled the bath towel and wiped tears and soap away. Twenty-dollar bills fluttered to the cold tiles.
The next man just wanted a wash. He gave her the money first, a bunch of different bills but swore it was two hundred. She cried while she washed him, but he didn’t say anything. Stace pumped her hands and the cloth up and down the narrow but long dick that leaned to one side. It got red and it got sore. He winced a couple times but never spoke. Then he came.
“CUNT!” Terry yelled from the living room. “Stace?” She heard me. I was home from work.
The man who had just spurted a lot of cum into the washcloth, looked frightened. He grabbed the foot towel from the floor and helped the girl to wipe up his spume.
—
A man bolted from the bathroom, tugging on overalls. I screamed! He raced out of the apartment.
“Now you can see your baby slut.” Terry sneered.
I ran to the bathroom. She was kneeling on the cold floor. I fell around her, hugging her and rocking, sharing her tears. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“You get half.” She curled up inside my arms, refusing to return my hug.
-to be continued-
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/cpn16m/broke_fat_black_and_ugly_ch_8_nc_rape_oral