[LtBroccoli]

Epilogue, The Rape and Brutalization of Diana (M+F+/F, oral, anal, ws, ncon, bond, drug)



Author’s Note:  This is my submission for the January 2023 RavishmentU Story Contest, “What’s old is new again.”  But before I dive into it, here’s some background.

Back around 2010, a story made the waves on the various boards, “The Rape and Brutalization of a Young High School Catholic Cheerleader”, posted by pj084527.  He (assuming it was a he) posted this story everywhere, all 16 chapters.  It told the story of the setup and brutal assault of a young woman named Diana by a sophisticated psychopath, Robert W. Harrison III.  It was a very slow build-up, but that helped make the action more intense.  It was a great story.

Too bad it was someone else’s work.

Turns out that this masterpiece of the erotic rape genre was actually written a few months prior by RFRiverrat, or just Riverrat on RapeDesires.  PJ was called out for plagiarizing this work on several sites including Rapeboard, where I first ran into this story in the mid 2010’s.  By that point, RD was dead and their forums lost for good.

That was until a hero came to the rescue.  In October 2020, Rexmundi found a copy of the story taking up space on an old drive.  Lo and behold, he had the mostly complete story.  I say mostly because RF never finished it.  After Chapter 30, he called it quits.  He thought about going back to finish it, but he never did so before RapeDesires joined the Great Server in the Sky.  Another writer in the board tried to finish the story their way, but it strayed greatly from the original message when Diana was stolen from Harrison by a biker gang.  That never seemed to vibe with me.

I looked for this story for several years to no avail.  Rex made me a very happy person when he posted the remaining chapters, and over the last couple years he’s become a friend.  I offered to write him a story for his generosity in saving one of the seminal works of this genre for a new generation to enjoy.  We agreed on two.  The first is Purity, a work in progress.  The other is this right here.  An honest to god attempt to bring a conclusion to this story.  I’ll be honest, that thought scares the shit out of me.  It’s taken me a while to hone my craft to where I think I can even give it a shot without being laughed off the boards.  That’s Impostor Syndrome for you.  I just hope that I can do this story justice.

As far as permission goes, that’s tricky.  RF disappeared years ago, and any attempts to track him down have failed.  Rex, who used to talk to him, hasn’t heard from him since their board crashed.  I have permission from Rex to give this a go, and I sincerely hope that I do this story justice.  Whether or not I complete this in time for the contest is another story, but let’s see what’s out there.  I’m breaking it down into several chapters and several sections, and at the time of this writing I am two or three chapters away from completing the main story.

This story is a work of fiction, based off of the work "The Rape and Brutalization of Diana" originally written by RFRiverrat on RapeDesires and published on RavishmentU by Rexmundi.  The characters of Diana, Robert, Tyrone, and Diana’s parents are RF’s original creations.  This work contains graphic descriptions of rape, violence, fraud, and a dozen other things that will get your ass thrown in jail.  Don’t fucking do it.

Any mention of teens or teenagers in this work of fiction refer to people at least 18, even if otherwise described as “looking young.”  Trust me, once you hit your mid-30’s, college students look like they’re little kids.

[LtBroccoli]

Synopsis:  If you haven’t read “The Rape and Brutalization of Diana”, please do so.  Otherwise, here’s the short, short version.

It’s 2010.  Robert W. Harrison III was a high-priced lawyer on the East Coast who had everything, but lost it when he raped a young law school intern.  It was an open and shut case, and he went to jail.  After serving his time and probation, he moved across the country, still wealthy and looking and talking the part of a sophisticated New York City attorney.  But now, he has a taste for rape of beautiful young women.  He sees himself as better than those delinquents he was in jail with.  He chooses his women like choosing a fine wine.  He is meticulous with his appearance and mannerisms.  He’s successful.

Our story begins in a coffee shop near a local high school where Harrison is doing a little fishing expedition.  In walks a group of high school kids.  One in particular catches his eye.  A beautiful, skinny athletic girl with long dark hair and a body that doesn’t quit.  Her name is Diana, and she’s a senior who lettered in cheerleading.  She’s cute and smart.  Harrison listens in to the group talk as he decides he needs a way in.  She will be his next conquest.  He will make Diana scream.

As he’s looking for a way in, she gives him one.  She mentions that she wants to go to Georgetown for college.  Guess where Harrison went to school?  That’s right, Georgetown.  He shifts his hard-on out of the way, stands, and introduces himself as Michael C. Johnson, and that he is an alum of the Hoyas, and tells her how far a recommendation from an alum could go.  Diana is ecstatic, and agrees to meet him for an interview.  He tells her to have her parents call him if they don’t buy the story.

Later that night, Diana’s father calls and Harrison plays it cool.  He lays it on thick enough to lower his guard and agrees to let Diana meet him at his office.  Harrison says he’s from out of town but has a place he uses when he’s visiting, and it will take place there.

Fast forward to Friday afternoon, and Harrison is in the lobby of a random office building waiting for Diana.  Just when he thinks she’s not coming, she appears, dressed in a nice white blouse, navy blue slacks, and high heels.  They go through some questions, and they start the interview.  He gets her to sign in to her Facebook account and add his alias as he goes over how harmful social media can be.  Remember this for later.  As they’re talking, Diana lets it slip that her parents are out of town for the weekend, and she doesn’t pick up on his interest.  Harrison asks Diana if they’d like to finish the interview over dinner “like mature adults.”  She waffles, but he tells her that she can follow him in her car.  She agrees.

A little while later and they’re at a fancy Italian restaurant.  She’s out of her element, and he’s taking advantage of it.  As they’re ordering dinner, he notices a crucifix necklace and realizes that she’s Catholic and might be a virgin.  After she orders a “cherry” coke, she heads to the bathroom.  This is when he strikes.  Harrison puts a pre-measured amount of Rohypnol in her soda and sat back as it the drug took effect.  He asked her if she had a boyfriend, and she said no.  She was getting loose and sloppy before his eyes.  He called for the check, then paid one valet a few hundred to take her car home while he took her somewhere else - the Vagabond Motel.

Harrison ordered a room at the no-tell motel as far from others as he could get, and paid in cash.  Diana is passing out in the back of his Mercedes, not feeling good.  He takes his briefcase with a laptop, digital camera, camcorder, duct tape, and a few other things and sets it up.  He then comes out to help her out of the car, and she flops on the bed.  He takes some pictures of her in her drug-induced stupor, and he says that he wants to remember her “before she became a fucking slut.” 

This is when the action goes from 0-60 in a few seconds.  From this point in, it’s almost all action.  He attacks her, forces Diana to blow him, cums in her mouth, rips her blouse off, bites and sucks her nipples, gives her more roofies to keep her pliant, strips her, rapes her, pops her cherry, nuts inside of her, caused her to have a fucking seizure from stress and trauma, and shrugged. 

This is just up to chapter 9.  There’s 21 more where that came from.  He fucked her doggy, then  fucked her ass, taking pics and video the whole time.  He has her get showered and dressed while he goes outside and meets Tyrone, a big black man from one of the neighboring rooms.  Hilarity ensues as Harrison films Tyrone raping Diana every which way possible as he answers Diana’s phone as her parents call for like the 30th time.  Diana’s dad gets to hear Tyrone fuck the shit out of his little girl.  Tyrone’s making her talk all nasty, too.

At some point after this, Harrison talks to Diana’s parents and comes up with an idea for a ransom.  They pay him $50,000 or he makes public the video he shot of Tyrone fucking Diana like a whore.  The parents are out of town, so they have to haul ass to get to the bank before they close.  Meanwhile, both Tyrone and Harrison DP Diana, making her cum again.  Harrison uploads that video as well but hasn’t released it, just put a cryptic post on her Facebook page that requires a password.  Which Harrison sends to Mommy and Daddy while they’re driving back to town.  Chapter 30 ends with Mom throwing the laptop out the window at highway speeds    as Diana screamed for Tyrone to fuck her.   By this point it was 11:30 AM Saturday.  He met her at 5PM Friday, and had her at the motel by about 9.  He raped her before Midnight, and aside from a cat nap and her passing out, they stayed up fucking Diana the whole night and well into the morning.

And that’s where I’m taking over.

Enjoy.

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 31



Harrison watched Diana lay on the bed as he pieced together the next part of his plan.  She had just finished another glass of water with a dose of roofies in it, and she was well on her way to La La Land.  The ransom was never part of his original plan, nor was bringing in someone like Tyrone.  Then again, neither was keeping Diana for more than a couple hours.  As he looked at his watch, a Rolex, Harrison noted the time.  Noon.  19 hours.  19 hours since he met her at the office building, and about 15 hours since they arrived here at the Vagabond Motel.  Aside from a little cat nap, he’s been awake almost a full 24 hours.  He forced himself to sleep in the day before, knowing it could be a long day.  That was part of the plan.  The rest of this wasn’t.

As Diana lay on the bed, a mess from head to toe, he finalized the plan to get away.  The blackmail to keep that bitch and her family compliant was always a part of it.  The ransom wasn’t, but Tyrone gave him a good excuse, and a possible scapegoat.  Diana’s parents had no clue where they were, but Harrison showing up to collect the money could go sideways in a hurry.  He’d have to keep Diana tucked away somewhere quiet while Tyrone either picked up the cash or disappeared.  Harrison didn’t care which, as long as the parents focused on Tyrone and not him.  No one knew Harrison’s real name in all of this, and he planned to keep it that way.

The original plan was to rape Diana and leave her at the motel, giving her parents the address when he was free and clear.  Now with a substantial ransom demand and partner in crime, that changed things enough to necessitate a neutral site drop off.  When he thought of where to drop her off, he had an idea that was brilliant in its simplicity and evilness.  He hit Tyrone with the plan as soon as the bathroom door opened.

“We need a car.”  Harrison said, mindlessly adjusting his dress shirt sleeves.

“Ain’t you got one?”  Tyrone asked, drying his body off with a towel.

“We need one that doesn’t have either of our names attached to it.”  That was all Harrison had to say for Tyrone to catch up to his train of thought.

“I get it.  We drop the bitch off on that, tell Mommy and Daddy to go pick her up there.  I got you.  Might take a few minutes, but I got you.”  Tyrone said as he finished drying off.

“We have a time crunch.  If her parents do things the way they’re supposed to, they should arrive at the bank before 1, then they’ll wire the money to us which you’ll pick up.  I assume there’s a check cashing place that does Western Union around here.”

“Yeah, few blocks away.”  Tyrone replied.

“Good.  I’ll give instructions to the parents when it’s time. Meanwhile, we need that car.”  Harrison said sternly.

“On it, gimme a few.”  Tyrone finished drying off and got dressed in the clothes he wore earlier.  He was tired but feeling refreshed.  A good fuck and shower will do that for a man.

As Tyrone left the motel room, Harrison logged back on to the laptop.  He was still logged in to Diana’s Facebook page and was looking at the comments to the post he made on her wall, with the cryptic message and the password-protected link to her degradation at the hands - and cock - of a large black man.  There were a dozen replies from her friends asking for the password, trying to figure out what was going on.  He took screenshots of who it was, for future use.  Some were her girlfriends and fellow cheerleaders, but a lot were horny teen boys, including Brian.  Diana called him a pet during dinner.  He might prove useful.

After 15 minutes, there was a knock at the door.  Diana didn’t stir.  From the sounds of it, she was fast asleep.  Harrison approached the door and looked through the peephole.  It was Tyrone and another man, a shorter white guy wearing a ballcap.  He opened the door to let them in, then closed it behind them.  As they entered the room, he got a good look at the man accompanying Tyrone.  He was white, pale white with long reddish brown hair tied back into a ponytail under a red ballcap.  He had a bit of a gut covered by a polo shirt of the same color as the hat, and wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts and cheap sneakers.  Harrison guessed that he was in his late 20’s or early 30’s.  When the man scanned the room, Harrison saw a goatee matching the hair and a logo on his shirt for Mario’s Pizzeria, as well as a name tag that read Hernando.  His scanning stopped when he saw the naked girl sleeping on the bed.

“God damn, you weren’t kidding.”  The Pizza Driver said with shock.

“Man, have I ever lied to you?”  Tyrone asked.

“Every time I come here.  But, this is new.”  The delivery guy turned to Harrison.  “He with you?  Explains the Mercedes out front.  I’m…call me Hernando.  You are?”  The driver extended his hand to shake Harrison’s, and he reciprocated.

“Call me Michael.  Don’t look like a Hernando.  What do you know so far?”  Harrison asked the driver, who was obviously not names Hernando.

“Our boy here said you need my car and that you’d make it worth my while.  And that since I’m not getting it back, it needs to be worth it.”  The driver couldn’t help but eyefuck Diana as he talked to Harrison.

“Depends, does your car run?”  Harrison asked.

“Well enough for the job.  Though I think your job is a little different.”

“How much for your car?”  Harrison asked without asking the type or even seeing it, but he didn’t really care too much about that, he just needed a car that runs, and possibly a driver.

“3 grand.”  The Driver said.  Tyrone laughed.

“Man, that piece of shit ain’t worth 3 g’s.”

“No, but A- I need to replace it once you’re done.  B, y’all up to some shady shit.  And C, if this is what I think it is, I need a good alibi which means hoofing it to the local police station and reporting my car stolen from a couple blocks away.  When they find it abandoned who knows where, hopefully with no body in it, it ends up in an impound lot and gets crushed a couple months from now.”  The Driver said, trying to keep eye contact with the men but stealing a couple glances over at Diana.

Harrison picked up in the cue the driver was aiming for.  “1500, and ten minutes with our friend over there.”  The Driver took another look, but couldn’t see her face.  If she was as hot as Tyrone said…

“Go ahead, take a look.  Go on.  She’s out, but you can wake her if you want.”  Tyrone said. 

The Driver walked over and checked out Diana.  She was still naked, and snoring.  Her tight body showed a little bruising.  He touched her face, and she didn’t respond.  Her neck was bruised and her face had a little swelling and she looked like she cried a lot, but she was still hotter than any piece of ass he’d had in a long time.

“Anyone take her ass yet?”  The driver asked, running his hand down her back, feeling her chest rise and fall.

“Yes.”  Harrison said. 

“Tyrone said she was a cheerleader or something.  Got proof?”  The Driver asked as his hand stopped on her firm little butt.

“Here, I’ll show you.”  Harrison motioned to the laptop, which he unlocked to show Diana’s Facebook page.  A little scrolling through her photos showed her senior Cheerleading pictures.  She was gorgeous.

“2 grand, 30 minutes, anything I want.”  The Driver said, trying to negotiate a little better deal.

“We’re running low on time.  2 grand up front, and you get one go with Diana.”  Harrison replied.

“I get to fuck her ass.”  As soon as the driver said that, Harrison extended his hand.

“Deal.” 

The driver shook Harrison’s hand and grinned.  “Deal.  Hot damn, I’ve always wanted to buttfuck a cheerleader.”  With that he made his way to the bed.  After a last look over his shoulder to make sure it was cool, he stripped quickly and grabbed the bottle of lube left on the nightstand.  After squirting a generous amount on his rapidly hardening cock, he climbed onto the bed and pushed Diana into her back.  She barely responded.  The driver pushed the head of his cock between her outer folds, and only then did she open her eyes a little.

“Wakey wakey bitch.  I’ve got a surprise for you.”  With that, the driver pushed his cock into her all at once.  Diana cried out, but it was incoherent and sloppy.  The driver knew he was in a hurry, so he didn’t even bother with any niceties like foreplay or waking her up.  Plus, he wanted to see the shock on her face.  “What’s the matter you druggy whore, did… I… wake… you?”  He grunted with each thrust, going his full stroke each time. 

Diana cried and moaned.  “Please, stop.  STOP, NO!”  She tried to push this stranger off of her, but she was once again too messed up to do anything about it.  The driver laughed at her feeble attempts at stopping him, and this seemed to excite him more.  After a couple minutes of fucking her pussy, he was ready for something else.

“You want me to cum in your pussy?  I asked you a question bitch, do you want me to cum in your pussy.”  He asked, still fucking away at her.

“No.  Please don’t.”  Diana managed to squeeze out in between thrusts.

“You’re the boss, bitch.  Ass it is.”  The Driver pulled his cock out of Diana’s twat and aimed it right for her puckered little asshole.  Diana muttered a plea before the Driver pushed into her.  Her cries became incomprehensible as he settled into her tight little ass, then pushed back and forth, fucking her.  Each thrust came with a grunt from him and a pained moan from her.  As he sped up, getting closer to busting a nut, Diana’s eyes rolled back into her skull and she started shaking violently. 

She was having a seizure.

A normal, caring man would stop everything he was doing and take care of the woman going through this.  The Driver kept fucking her while Tyrone laughed and Harrison checked his watch.

“Hurry up, we’re running late.”  Harrison said.

“Al…most…there…oh fuck!”  The Driver said as he came inside of Diana’s asshole.  She kept shaking and convulsing, unknowingly milking his cock for all it had.  It took a moment for him to completely pull out, and another minute or two for her seizure to subside.  Once it did, she just lay there on the bed, crying and moaning in pain.

“Holy shit.  That was new.”  The Driver said as he made his way to the bathroom to clean up.  Harrison checked his watch before and after the Driver’s trip to the bathroom.  He was out at 12:24PM, and looked somewhat presentable.  Harrison stood there with a small wad of folded bills in his hand.  Two thousand dollars in $100 bills.

“I believe that this makes us even.”  Harrison said,  The Driver took the cash and did a quick count.

“Looks good.  Gimme a moment, I’ll bring your new car up front.  Want Tyrone to watch, make sure I don’t disappear?”  Harrison nodded, and Tyrone followed the Driver out the door.  About 90 seconds later, a silver 1993 Chevy Cavalier was parked right next to Harrison’s Mercedes, and Tyrone and the Driver were back inside.  The Driver held out a spare set of car keys.

“Here you go, one piece of shit car that will get you where you need to go.”

Harrison took the set of keys from him.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  I keep spare clothes in the trunk, never know when they’re needed.  And there’s some tools, including a Philips screwdriver.  Now, when you drop off the car when you’re done, take the plate with you.  This will buy a few days before the cops identify the car.  By that point, someone will have called it in as abandoned and the city will hold it until it gets scrapped.  And whatever you do, don’t leave it in front of a school or in a mall or the Target parking lot.”

Harrison interrupted the Driver.  “Why not a school?”

“Security cams.”  The Driver said, pausing briefly before continuing.  “Most high schools have more security in them than some prisons nowadays.  They’re so worried about shootings that they have armed guards and cameras, the whole shebang.  The days of Spicoli ordering a pizza and getting it delivered to class are long gone.  You drop this off in the lot of a high school, you’ll have cops on you before you get out.  Best place to drop it would be a new housing plan.  It’s Saturday, and the shittiness of the car will make any passers by think it must belong to the workers and was left behind.  Plus, little to no cameras, except maybe some crazy guy with a surveillance camera for his yard, but that shit costs a lot of money.  A plan might have something, but assuming you’re following Tyrone in the Mercedes, no one will bat an eye.  They’ll assume you’re in real estate and let you be.  Make sense?”

“Think that’ll work.”  Harrison said, nodding along.  This new info was invaluable to him.

Tyrone nodded as well.

“Thanks dawg.  Catch’ya later.”  He and the Driver did a bro-hug before the pale man walked out the door and quickly out of view, talking on his cell phone. 

As Harrison closed the door, he caught Tyrone yawning, then scoping out Diana on the bed.

“What’s the plan now?”  Tyrone asked.  Harrison thought for a moment.  His original drop-off plan was to leave the car at Diana’s high school, but the Driver brought up a great point.  The school would have cameras up the ass, so that ruled out leaving her there.  The idea of the housing plan was very appealing, but he would need to find one, hopefully close to her home.  That way he could add insult to injury by having some weird rumors float around her school.  But first, they had to get Diana ready.

“Your friend said he had some spare clothes in the trunk.  Use those, get the bitch dressed up enough for a car drive.  I have to call Mommy and Daddy soon.”

“How we keeping her quiet on the way home?”  Tyrone asked.

“Give her another glass of water with a little more rohypnol in it, and she’ll sleep like a baby and won’t remember who we are.  Now, we have to make sure that the parents are doing things the right way.”  With that, Tyrone checked their new car for clothes while Harrison grabbed the account number that Diana’s parents will wire the money to.  As he pulled the card out of his briefcase, ho looked at Diana, who was borderline catatonic.

“Hope they pay, for your sake.  Otherwise, the fun has just begun.”

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 32



They were cutting it close, but Diana’s parents arrived the bank with about 15 minutes to spare.  Her father had broken nearly every road law to get here on time, and her mom was a complete wreck.  The whole night had been a nightmare for Frank and Shannon.  What was supposed to be a quiet night away at a local bed and breakfast had turned into a nightmare.  Frank can’t believe he fell for that asshole’s spiel, but he said everything he needed to to calm him down.  He told his daughter Diana to not go anywhere else but the office building, but of course she didn’t listen.  When they didn’t get a call from her by 7PM, they started getting nervous.  By 9, they were freaking out.  When Diana didn’t answer her phone, they texted her, a couple of her friends, and even called their neighbor, Mrs. Lomax, to see if she came home.  They had a small bit of hope when the neighbors across the street said that the Lexus was in the driveway, but that was quickly dashed when they called back after checking out the house and seeing that no one was home and that a young man in a valet’s uniform was waiting nearby for a cab.  When Mrs. Lomax called back, their fear became palpable.  Diana didn’t come home, she could be anywhere.  They called again and again until Diana finally picked up.  But it wasn’t her.  A man answered, and what he made them hear shocked and sickened them.  Diana was having sex.  Their ‘little girl’ was having sex, and he was sounding none too gentle about it. 

Over the course of the next few hours, they pieced together enough to know what happened.  Michael C. Johnson, Attorney at Law, had kidnapped and raped their Diana, with the help of a black man.  They took her, filmed her, and were blackmailing them and her.  They told them that they had to leave the cops out of it.  This man recorded a black man raping their daughter and posted a link to it on her Facebook page, with only a password to protect her from being humiliated.  Even if he didn’t release it, enough of her friends knew something weird happened.  Pay the ransom to get her back, and hope nothing else bad happened to her.

So that’s why they drove like maniacs to get to the bank two hundred miles away to withdraw $50,000 from their savings.  Those two opened with $25,000, but as the night went on, the price went up.  Frank was terrified that they’d whore out their daughter if they didn’t pay, or worse.  They didn’t give him any reason to trust them, but he had no choice.

As Frank and Shannon were in the bank, Shannon’s phone buzzed.  Then again.  “WU $50k to following acct # reply w con ID” and the next text was the account number.  It took all of her strength to keep from getting sick, and for Frank to not lose his cool in the middle of the bank.  But he knew that Diana’s safety, possibly her life were on the line.  After some back and forth with the bank manager over the strange nature of the transaction, they completed the wire transfer without incident.  The manager had to be talked down from putting a trace and hold on the cable.  Once they had the confirmation number, Shannon texted it to Diana’s phone.  All that followed was a simple reply.  “Will send address after $$”.  Nothing other than that.

They sat around the bank for a couple more minutes until it was closing time and they were kicked out.  They tried to comfort each other, waiting on news about their little girl. 

They worked out what they could about the man that kidnapped and brutalized their daughter.  He gave them an obviously fake name.  Whether or not he was an attorney was up for debate.  The only one in the family that knew what he looked like was Diana, and she wasn’t much help other than to say that he “looked old, but not that old.”  That could mean anywhere from 30 to 60.  She said he was dressed like a lawyer at Starbucks, but that could just mean a suit.  All they had was a phone number from a business card and a New York City address.  He already called the phone number earlier in the week and this monster answered.  They could try to look up the address, but his data connection was spotty on his Nokia, and it was a dumb phone at that.  He left his Blackberry charger at home, and Shannon threw their laptop with the modem out of the window, so they didn’t have any way of looking him up.  ‘If only this were a month from now’, he thought to himself.  The three of them were getting new phones next month as part of Diana’s graduation present, they were all getting the new iPhones in a month.

That’s when he had the idea to go to the Apple Store to look up that address.  If it was real, he might be able to work backward from there to figure out who this man really was.  They had to make sure they could get the call when it came in.

The next hour and a half would be the longest of their lives.

[vile8r]

It's great to see you continuing this story, LtBroccoli! It's been a classic for many years, and you're doing a fine job keeping its spirit alive!

[EnabranTain]

Good job continuing the saga. It looks like this story was well loved by many, and you've gone a great job of keeping the same tone and voice as the original author.

[LtBroccoli]

Thanks Vile8r and Tain.  This was one of my favorite porn stories of the last twenty years.  I just hope I can do this the right way.  I don't get nervous about writing that often, but it's like doing a sequel to Office Space.  There's a million ways I can fuck it up, and maybe 15 or 20 where it works.

I think I'm up for the challenge.  Next chapter incoming.

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 33



Harrison had the confirmation number and looked it up to make sure it was real.  It was.  Which was good, because it meant that he didn’t have to pay Tyrone out of his own pocket.  Not that he couldn’t afford it, but one lesson he learned early in his career from a former client was “why spend your own money when you can spend someone else’s?”  From what he knew of Diana’s family, they could more than afford the $50,000 ransom to return her.  But returning her to them became complicated as soon as he brought in a partner.  This meant going through the motions.  He had to go through the pro forma of a ransom for everyone involved.  Fortunately the advice - and car - he received from Tyrone’s friend will help this along.

Across the room, Tyrone was getting Diana up out of the bed and into the bathroom.  She had so much Rohypnol in her system that her muscles weren’t responding to commands.  Eventually Tyrone got her to the bathroom, where he dumped her in the bathtub and turned the shower on.  Diana slumped down, unable to stand.

As the water ran, Harrison rifled through her purse.  There wasn’t much in there, just some breath mints, tissues, travel tampons and pads, and her wallet.  He popped a couple of the mints from the plastic box as he took it all in.  She carried her period products with her, which meant she was expecting it soon, unless she always carried them in this tiny purse.  And it was packed full, even before putting her makeup back in.  That worked out for him as she wasn’t on the rag when he fucked her, and any blood came from him popping her cherry.  She likely wouldn’t get pregnant from anything Tyrone did to her, but the terror of her waiting and praying for the cramps to kick in gave him a sadistic smile.  He took a couple more breath mints, realizing he skipped breakfast as he looked in her wallet.  An emergency contact card, her license with her name and address on it, some cash, a few credit cards, and his business card.  He grabbed his digital camera to capture her name, Diana Meadows, along with her address.  A quick look on Google Maps showed him that she lived very close to the Starbucks he met her at.  Makes sense, as he picked that one because it was close to a school ripe with fuckmeat.  That’s when Harrison had an idea.  If he couldn’t drop her off at the school, he’d do the next best thing and drop her off near her house.  He searched for new home construction in the area and hit paydirt.  Veranda Hills was a new plan being built near Diana’s house, maybe 20 or 30 minutes away.  It was still in the same school district, too.  After investigating it for a minute, he saw that the plan was half complete.  That meant a lot of empty lots to get lost in.  Harrison smiled.

He thought he heard something in the bathroom.  He stood to investigate, and found Tyrone taking a piss…on Diana!  She feebly begged him to stop, but the big black man just laughed and laughed.  Seeing the spectacle unfold, Harrison joined in on the fun, unleashing a stream of piss into her face and hair.  Since they were done fucking her for the moment, might as well throw one last degradation into the mix.

When they were done peeing on Diana, they left her in the tub for a while to wash off.  They didn’t care if she cleaned herself or not, it was all for destroying any evidence.  Or, at least making it harder for the pigs to do their job, if the parents called them in.  Harrison was pretty sure that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t do something so stupid, but he learned a long time ago to never underestimate stupidity.

Harrison packed up his belongings and moved them into his Mercedes before returning to the motel room.  By this point, Tyrone was dragging Diana back to the bed to get her dressed in the leftover clothes from the car.  It was some stinky gym clothes, a pair of basketball shorts and a gray t-shirt that said “Tampa Bay Lightning 2004 Stanley Cup Champions” on the front.  The sleeves were cut off, and it barely covered Diana’s tits with how far and low the cuts were.  The former lawyer checked his watch.  They were running late, otherwise they might have time for one more round.

“C’mon, we have to go.  If we hurry, we might have enough time once we’re done.”  He said.  Tyrone was thinking the same thing, wondering how far down her throat he could get his blacksnake before the two picked her up and carried her to the Cavalier outside.

It took a bit of maneuvering to get her in the car, but in the end she was in the backseat, curled up in a ball.  Diana was a mess and still smelled like piss, but even still was the hottest piece of as Tyrone’s had in many a moon.  He grabbed a blanket he found in the car and threw it over her.  “No need to attract undue attention, plus this bitch ain’t going nowhere” he told himself.  The black man climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car.  It ran a little rough but settled down after a minute.  Classical music came on the radio, and Tyrone quickly changed it to the local hip-hop station.
 
Back inside, Harrison did a once-over of the room.  He gathered up Diana’s tattered clothes, the pearl buttons from her blouse, and her makeup, and packed them along with her purse into a spare reusable bag he kept in his car.  After a quick confirmation that he didn’t forget anything, he closed the door to the room behind him and made his way to the main office.  After a couple minutes, he checked out and returned to the area by his car, stopping at the one Tyrone was driving.  Tyrone rolled down the window.  Harrison handed him a card.
“This is the account number for the wire transfer.  Go to a check cashing place you trust that does Western Union and give them this number, this name, and this passcode.  While you’re in there, I’ll keep an eye on the little slut here.  Once you get the transfer, take all $50k out and get a cashier’s check made out for $20k to this company name.  Do with the rest as you please, but once you’re done come back out.  Got it?”

“Got it.  You ready?”  Tyrone said.

“One moment.”  Harrison replied, as he made his way to the Mercedes, turned it on, and pulled out of the space, waiting for Tyrone to exit.  Once done, the two cars left the Vagabond Motel and drove the six or seven blocks to a Check cashing place.  Harrison kept an eye on the Cavalier and it’s cargo while Tyrone did his business inside.  Harrison’s nerves were slightly on edge, but he kept his cool, even as the police car pulled up behind him.

[vile8r]

Nice! Bringing in the cops for a bit of suspense! I know Harrison can probably keep his cool, but what about Tyrone?

[spunkjunk]

Thats what I like!
Someone know where to find the previously storie?
Thank you LtBroccoli,Merit
Greetings
Spunkjunk

[LtBroccoli]

Thanks Vile8R and Spunkjunk.  Let's see if Tyrone can keep his cool.  Spunk, "The Rape and Brutalization of Diana" was posted here a couple years ago by Rexmundi after he found a copy he saved.  I've also linked to it in the first post in this thread, too.

Chapter 34 incoming.

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 34



It took Frank and Shannon about 30 minutes to get to the Apple Store in the local mall, and a few more minutes of navigating the old people walking around and the kids congregating to and fro.  They decided to go here to do their investigation for two reasons.  First, it was closer than their home, and second, they were worried that things might get even more out of control once they got there, with the late night calls to the neighbors and whatnot.  After entering the almost too-bright store, they made their way to the iMac section and tried to figure out their way through the Safari browser.  A kind salesman named Kevin helped them get familiar with the iMac.

All they had was a business card that they saw and wrote down, along with the name and number.  565 Fifth Avenue in New York City.  Like everything else in Midtown Manhattan, it was a skyscraper with a ton of offices and tenants.  When Frank found a website listing some of the current tenants, there were a couple law offices.  As Shannon tried to maintain her calm with Kevin as he talked about the iMac’s features, Frank found the website for one of the law offices in the building.  He wished he’d written down the name of the law firm as well, but it didn’t seem as important at the time.  He went through the site and found a listing of the attorneys in staff.  No Michael C. Johnson anywhere.  Frank went to the next law firm and the same thing.  Same with the third and fourth business.  The fifth didn’t list any lawyers on staff aside from the founding partners.  The sixth, it looked like an amalgamation of the rest, but this was the first mention whatsoever of Michael C. Johnson.  No picture, just a name next to some random text about recently coming to the firm from out west.  That raised Frank’s cockles.  The names on the site looked familiar.  Mears, Henderson, Kleinendorst.

That was the name of the law firm he used to set up the meeting location downtown.

Frank googled those names, and sure enough the page was almost identical.  Almost, save for a couple details.  First, the address on the New York version had a New York address, not a local one.  Second, there was no mention of Mr. Johnson on the local version.  This was how he was going to make himself look legitimate if he pushed harder on the backstory.  He was going to send a link to this website showing he was real.  A little further digging found that the suite in question was rented out to a company called HR3, LLC.  Frank could not find a thing about them, except an email address on a whois page that went to a gmail account.  Frank noted the address.  This might be the only way to track down this son of a bitch in the future.

By the time Frank finished up finding his needle in the haystack, Shannon was running out of excuses on why not to buy one of these computers as Kevin did a really good, low key approach.  That’s when her phone buzzed.  It was Diana’s phone number.  Her hands trembled as she read it.

“Veranda Hills. New construction site. Off of Plum Canyon Rd, Heller Circle. Grey 93 Cavalier. Key in starter.  Window open.”

The phone buzzed again, showing a picture of Diana, seemingly asleep in the back seat of the car.  She was a mess, wearing some clothes that definitely weren’t hers.  Her hair covered her face, but even still they could see the bruising and beatings she suffered.  Shannon looked closer at the poor quality cell phone picture.  Another look showed a white cock in her mouth and a black one in her pussy.

Shannon let out a muffled shriek, then showed Frank the phone.  Kevin tried to make himself scarce before Frank called him back as they would need to print out directions. 

Or so he thought.  Turns out that Plum Canyon Road was on the other side of their hometown, the name out of towners used for Whites Canyon Road.  They were being led to one of the new housing plans popping up around them.  There, they hoped and prayed to find their daughter.

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 35



Tyrone didn’t have to wait long to get service at the check cashing joint.  Fortunately for him he missed the morning rush and the mail doesn’t get delivered until 2 in this part of town, so he has some time before the afternoon rush comes in.  He knows this place and gets checks cashed here all the time, but this is the first time he’s ever dealt with a wire transfer.  He wasn’t even sure what one was until a couple hours ago when his new friend outside walked him through it.  Sure, he’d heard of Western Union, but thought wire transfers were a different thing, a thing done by rich people to buy yachts and politicians and shit like that.  It’s not like he’s ever dealt with that shit before. Which made going through the process of getting the transfer done a little awkward.

He’s been in this place a hundred times, getting pay checks, unemployment checks, welfare checks, disability checks, whatever type of check cashed.  Fuck, he’s even cashed WIC checks signed over to him, but this was new territory.  Even Carl, the clerk, knew this wasn’t normal.

The Western Union transaction was an account number, a confirmation number, and a company name, HR3.  Tyrone gave Carl the info, and it popped up immediately.  When the door didn’t bust down right away with pigs crawling all over or alarms blaring, he took that as a good sign.  An even better sign was when Carl looked at the screen and said “Damn, this is real.  So how you want that?”

Tyrone gave Carl the instruction on having a cashier’s check made out to HR3 for $20,000.  That was the easy part.  The hard part was getting the other $30,000.  The store didn’t have that much on hand this late in a Saturday, and even if they did, Tyrone would have to fill out a bunch of tax forms and shit.  They went back and forth on what they could and should do.  Eventually Carl suggested that Tyrone cash out two grand right now.  That would cover the fees for the transfer and printing out the checks, plus give him some spending cash.  He would then write out the remaining $28,000 into 28 certified cashier’s checks for one thousand dollars each.  A grand is small enough that the check cashing places don’t have to do paperwork on them, and if he spreads this out over few weeks, or goes to different companies each day, he’ll fly under Uncle Sam’s radar.  Tyrone pointed out how much of a pain in the ass that was, but Carl asked him if he wanted to pay taxes in it or not.  Suddenly going to the check cashing joint every day to cash a thousand dollar check didn’t seem too bad.  Get up, do a wake’n’bake, roll on down to the check cashing joint, get cash, get some weed and something to eat, then find a bitch and go back to bed.  Nothing too difficult about that life.

He was in a good mood as he walked out of the check cashing joint.  That mood quickly changed when he stepped outside and saw a police officer talking to his new friend next to the Cavalier with the drugged up bitch in the backseat, hoping that she didn’t move the blanket, the pig didn’t get too nosy, or that his new friend sold him out.  He felt a lump in his throat form when ‘Michael’ called him over.

“Oh shit.”

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 36



It wasn’t uncommon for cops to visit this part of town. Hell, there was a police station about 15 blocks away.  This was the rough part of town, where no one voluntarily went to unless they had no choice or they were up to no good.  Seeing a bunch of black people give a one-time look and divert their gaze was the norm in this part of town.

What wasn’t normal on a Saturday afternoon was a well-dressed white man driving a Mercedes sitting in his car, and Harrison knew that.  He had to think fast.

He could run, but that would just draw more suspicion and who knows what Tyrone would do with Diana.  The moment they don’t show up with the girl, her parents will go to the cops and media.  Her face will be all over the news and anyone who saw her on Friday, like the restaurant staff, the valet driver, or the security guard from the office building would place him at the scene, and his car is registered to his real name.  It would only take a few moments for even a shitty cop to tie him to Diana’s disappearance, and at that point he’s looking at hard time for sure.  So running was out.

He could sit here and wait for Tyrone to come out and attract the cop’s attention.  Assuming he didn’t roll right away, the cop will check the backseat and find a drugged up white girl.  Tyrone gets busted, Harrison gets away until Tyrone either rats him out, Diana wakes up, or Tyrone did what he was supposed to do and made out the check for $20,000 to his company.  Well, Harrison’s name isn’t on any of the official paperwork, but if someone is inclined to dig through several layers of corporate paperwork in Delaware they could eventually find the shell company with his name that owns the one that owns the one that owns HR3.  While he could argue away from that piece of evidence, they have a drugged up white girl who was repeatedly raped and a likely multi-strike felon looking to avoid life in prison.  Add in previous witnesses and his possible fingerprints on her clothes and purse, and he’s boned.

He could hope that the cop would ignore him completely, but that was a pipe dream.  He could see this cop already saw the Mercedes and was looking up his plates.  That meant he had to use his real name.  His one saving grace here was that he doesn’t have a record in this state and was not required to register as a sex offender when he moved here.  That gives him an out and an option.

Harrison knew that his only ploy was to confront and confound.  If he couldn’t dazzle him with brilliance, he would baffle him with bullshit.  And he had to do this before the cop checked out the Cavalier.  He pulled his real identification down from the visor, along with the insurance and registration for the car, and one of his many business cards.  This one had his real name and a New York cell phone number with the much sought after 212 area code.  This number forwarded to a Google Voice number which forwarded to his local phone or burner of choice.  It was one of the expenses that he maintained to keep the illusion of being a lawyer from New York City alive, along with renting a small office and maintaining a website.

He made sure that his tie was straight and that he looked every part the lawyer as he opened the door to his Mercedes, documentation shifted to his left hand as he stood and closed the door.  He leaned up against his car, waiting for the cop to approach.  As he figured, it only took Johnny Law a minute to get out of his patrol car make his way to him.  Harrison gave him a quick once over.  Bald, fat, wearing a bullet-proof vest on a wam day, mustache and sunglasses.  He almost laughed to himself at what passes as the “long arm of the law” in this town.

“Nice day out today.”  The cop said as he closed the distance to Harrison.  He sounded cheery yet suspicious.  Cheery because he was white and didn’t look like a scumbag.  “Looks like you’ve already got your license and information handy.  Do you mind?”

“No, I figured you were going to ask anyway.”  Harrison handed him the information.  The name matched what the computer showed a moment ago.

“Robert Harrison.” The cop held the information, noticing the business card with his name on it. ‘Robert W. Harrison III, Esquire.’  He sighed, having a feeling that he knew exactly why he was in this part of town.  Well, one of two or three reasons.  “If you don’t mind me asking-“

“Why am I here?”  Harrison cut him off, as respectfully as he could.

“Yeah.”

“I’m waiting on a client.”  Harrison said.

“Just post bail?”  The cop said. 

Harrison shot him a look, then shook his head.  “No.”  Harrison thought fast.  He knew that if he said yes, then Porky Pig over here would ask for Tyrone’s name, info, and he’d call it in to verify.  When it didn’t come back, then he’d have reason to dig a little deeper.  “No, I’m waiting on my client who is currently cashing out a settlement as we speak.”

“A settlement?”  The cop asked. This was a new excuse to him.

“Yes.  A settlement.  Before you ask what it was for, I am not at liberty to discuss details as both my client and I are bound by a non-disclosure agreement that prevents us from discussing the details of the case nor the amount of the settlement.”  Harrison stopped before he said anything else.  Partly because the cop didn’t need any more information, but mostly because Tyrone had exited the check cashing joint and saw him talking to a cop.  Harrison waved for Tyrone to approach.  “Come on, come on over.  It’s okay, this one doesn’t bite.  Unlike the last one.”  Harrison shifted his gaze from Tyrone to the cop at that last statement.

“Huh?”  The cop asked.  Tyrone was about to say something, but Harrison cut him off quickly.

“As your legal counsel, I advise you to, as was so eloquently said earlier, keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“I ain’t saying shit.”  Tyrone said. 

Harrison turned to the cop.  “My client is a little skittish around police officers.  As I said earlier, I can’t get into details, but let’s just say that a fellow brother in blue was more than a little rough with him.  So he is very apprehensive around police officers going forward.”  Harrison laid it on thick enough to make the point to the cop that he’s already squeezed money from one police department, he’s willing to do it again.

The cop shook his head, then handed Harrison his information back to him.  “Here you go, Mr. Robert Harrison, Esquire.  I hope that you and your client have a good day.”  The cop was about as thrilled to be here as he would be at a Jenny Craig meeting.

“Same to you, have a pleasant day.”  Harrison said to the cop, then turned and whispered to Tyrone.  “I’ll follow you down the road a couple miles to the Whole Foods.  Turn in the parking lot, then you follow me.”  Tyrone nodded as he looked away from the cop.  Harrison blocked the view of the cop and the license plate of the gray Cavalier just enough that the cop didn’t catch the whole number.  Not that he was looking, anyway, but the first three letters reminded him of his ex-wife’s initials.  Besides, a beaten up late model Chevy is pretty common in this part of town.

Harrison watched as the cop got back into his car and then returned to his Mercedes. Tyrone wasted no time in getting out of there and down the road.  Harrison pulled out a couple moments later, keeping pace with Tyrone.

The cop sat in his patrol car, clearing the screen and looking around for a good place to eat.  He thought about the local shops, but ruled those out and settled on McDonald’s.  Again.  He turned off his radio to go inside and order just as a report of a stolen gray Chevy came across the air, with a license plate that sounded a little familiar.  Still, whatever it was could wait until after lunch.  “Stolen car, good luck.  Come back when it’s a real crime.” 

A real crime, like rape or kidnapping.

[LtBroccoli]

Chapter 37



Once the coast was clear, Harrison led Tyrone in the gray Chevy to a housing plan a few miles from Diana’s home.  It was off in the hills, and was about a third of the way complete.  It was less than a mile from the high school she went to, which was his original destination.  He wanted her to live with the shame of being discovered naked in her school’s parking lot so the rumors would fly and destroy the little bitch’s reputation.  But that idea was thwarted when the Driver pointed out how much security a school has nowadays.  Instead, he suggested dropping the car off in a housing plan that was under construction.  As they drove to Veranda Hills, he realized how good of an idea this was.

The housing plan was about a third of the way finished, with a series of medium to large single-family homes already completed, and many more in various stages of construction.  All of the roads were paved and there were lot markers up every hundred to two hundred feet.  As they drove through the plan, the density of finished houses varied.  Some streets were bare, others fully finished, but most were spotty.     Atley Court was completely finished while Roman Court was half occupied.  Both were okay, but neither served his purpose.  He worried that the neighbors would get nosy and call the police as soon as they left the car behind.  Instead, he drove around until he found the perfect place. 

Houston Court.

It was a cul-de-sac with 8 lots on it, and only 3 of them had any activity in them.  One house was a big hole in the ground where the foundation work had begun, another was a stick frame, and the last had the plywood walls up and a roof on it, but was still far from done.  No one lived here yet.

Harrison turned around in the cul-de-sac and parked the Mercedes in front of the empty lot right next to the house that was about 50% complete. 

Tyrone parked behind him, and shut the gray Chevy down.  He checked the cargo in the backseat.  Diana was still breathing, dead to the world, covered by the blanket from earlier.  He moved it out of the way, exposing her slightly.  She was a beautiful mess, and his cock stirred thinking about what he did to her, and how he’d like one more go at her little twat.  As he was thinking this, he heard Harrison get out of his Mercedes through the open window.  Tyrone shook his head and exited the car, closing the door behind him.

“Yo, how much time you think we got?”  Tyrone said, opening the Chevy’s trunk to retrieve the screwdriver.

“Do you mean until her parents get here, or until I call them and tell them to come?”  Harrison asked.

“Well, both.”  Tyrone said, finding the screwdriver and closing the trunk.  It popped back open, and he had to slam it closed again.  It popped open again.  “Mutha fucka, stay closed.”  It took until the fifth slam until it stayed shut.  Harrison couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he checked his watch.  It was a little after 2PM.  It took about an hour to get the wire transfer, deal with the cop, and drive out here. He saw Diana, passed out in the backseat and had a feeling he knew what Tyrone was really asking.

“You want to know if we have enough time to fuck this bitch one more time before calling her parents and getting the fuck out of here?”  Harrison said.

“Exactly.  Do we got time to fuck this bitch again?”  Tyrone asked as he removed the license plate from the car.

“Not much time left.”  Harrison said, looking at the sleeping piece of fuckmeat in the car.  He was already feeling his cock swell at the thought of fucking her one last time.

“Guess that means we gotta skip the foreplay then.”  Tyrone laughed as he made his way to the rear passengers door and opened it.  By the time Harrison could complain, Tyrone had the door opened, the blanket pulled off of Diana, and was already grabbing at her waistband.  She mewled a small protest, but was still heavily drugged up.  Harrison looked around and noticed that the only signs of life were some small animals off in the distance and a small gaggle of BMX bikes near the half-completed house.  A bunch of bikes meant a bunch of teens around.  ‘This could be fun’ he thought to himself.

“I’ll be right there.”  Harrison returned to his car and grabbed her phone from her purse, as well as his digital camera.  He wanted a few more photos to remember this by.  Plus, he had a feeling he might have a chance at something more…memorable.

Tyrone was already a couple steps ahead of him and had pulled the shorts down enough to spread her legs.  His pants were down and he was pushing the head of his dick into her pussy.  She was only aware of what was happening to her because the pain of being violated again stirred her just awake enough to open her eyes.  Her arms and legs weren’t responding to commands, and the feeble noises she made only seemed to drive him on.  The black man fucked her relentlessly, and it hurt even more than when he raped her earlier.  This time there was no pretense of making her cum or enjoy herself.  No, this time was about using her like a whore.

Harrison appeared over her head, his cock sticking through the zipper of his pants.  Diana could barely open her mouth on her own, so Harrison pried her jaw open for her as he shoved his erect cock into her mouth.  She knew he’d want her to lick and suck, or he’d hurt her.  She did her best to pleasure him while that black man raped her pussy, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough.  Not for this monster.  As she was being double penetrated, she heard a click.  Then another, and another.  The brain fog lifted slightly to recognize the noise.

He was taking more pictures of her.  Not just pictures, video.

Tyrone fucked the little cheerleader as hard as he could with her in the backseat of a Chevy Cavalier.  He reached up and pulled on the cut-up workout shirt, stretching the low-cut neckline completely out of shape and exposing her tits.  He grabbed on to one of them and squeezed as hard as he could.  Diana screamed around Harrison’s cock, arousing him more.

“Again.  Again.”  Harrison commanded, and Tyrone kept squeezing and hate-fucking the teenage girl until, even in her drugged up state, she was in tears. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, take it you whore, take it, take my cum you WHOREEEE!!!”  Tyrone screamed out as he came, shooting what felt like a gallon of cum into Diana’s womb.  In reality, it was a lot less, but it still felt like a lot.  He pulled out of her twat and wiped his dick off on her pussylips before finding the blanket to wipe himself off with.

Diana grabbed her crucifix, the first movement she made with her hands since she woke up in this car, and prayed for this to end.  That’s when Harrison got an idea.  He motioned for Tyrone to come over next to him and grab the camera.

“Get the bitch’s hands, too.”  Harrison said as Tyrone steadied the camera with his left hand.  Harrison and he easily pried Diana’s hands apart, and Tyrone held them in his right hand, easily manhandling the drugged girl. 

Harrison fucked Diana’s mouth for another minute until he felt his orgasm build.  Diana prepared for what was going to happen next, with this monster cumming in her mouth again.  Instead, he threw her for a curveball when he pulled out.  He quickly grabbed his cock with his right hand and jerked furiously.

“Here’s something to remember me by, you little bitch.  AAAHH!”  Harrison screamed as he came, his first rope of semen hitting her in the eyes, then the second on her chin, and then the final couple blasts on her chest and tits, as he splattered her crucifix with his semen.  Diana cried as he wiped his dick off with her hair, using it like a towel.  He grabbed her by the hair, still smelling of his piss earlier, and twisted her face up to meet his.  “Remember, your god got you into this mess, your god left you to suffer in it.  And every time you pray from now on, there’s a little piece of me your grabbing on to.  Each and every time.  Now, you be a good girl and stay still.”  Harrison took the cell phone back and took a couple more pictures of her cum-covered face and chest, then did the same with his regular camera.  He zipped up his pants and checked the time.  2:32PM.  He figured it was time to tell Mom and Dad to come pick up DiDi.

As Harrison thought about what to text, Tyrone gathered up their stuff, including the towel he used to clean himself off with and the stolen license plate.  He offered Harrison the towel, then again motioned if he should wipe down Diana.  Harrison shook his head as he wrote a text from Diana’s phone.  When Harrison said no to everything, Tyrone walked to the Mercedes.

“What are you doing?”  Harrison asked.

“Waiting for you.  You almost done?”  Tyrone replied.

“Who said I’m giving you a ride?”  Harrison asked, typing then erasing the text on Diana’s flip phone.

“You did, when you had me come all the way to Whiteyville in a stolen car, carrying a stolen license plate, a dirty blanket, and like 50k in checks, including a big one made out to you.  How long you think till the neighbors call the popo because I’m ‘suspicious looking’?”

“Good point, just give me a minute.  And…sent.”  Harrison said, folding the phone.  He walked back to the car to get Diana’s purse, and noticed something moving in the background.  His gaze caught Tyrone’s attention, who looked over his shoulder to see what was going on.

“Oh, shit.”  Tyrone said.  He was worried by what he saw, but where he saw danger Harrison saw opportunity.

Harrison stepped away from the car and toward the house.  “Hey, Hey!  C’mon out!”  Tyrone looked at him sideways, but Harrison was pretty sure he knew what he was getting into.  More accurately, what he was getting Diana into. 

Earlier, he noticed something parked next to the house.  4 BMX bicycles.  That meant one of two things.  Either someone was stealing bikes and hiding them here, or some kids were up to no good.  When he saw 6 teens walk out of the house, he knew it was the latter.  He motioned to the tallest one, a young man about 18 and dressed like he was filming a spot for Thrasher magazine.

“How’d you guys like to have a little fun?”  Harrison smiled as he looked over the group of horny teen boys.