Terror After the prom
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Terror In TenerifeChapter 4 free porn video
The next couple of weeks were hard. We hugged and kissed and said "I love you" a lot. But we didn't make love. The tension started to build up between us and we weren't talking. Finally I suggested a rape counselor or crisis counselor or any damned kind of counselor.
Jenny said, "Can't we just talk? I am not ready to tell anyone what I just went through. It's too humiliating."
Well, we talked and it turned out that I wasn't making love to her because I thought that she was too traumatized by what she had been through. I assumed that she would not want to be touched by another man for the foreseeable future.
She, on the other hand, thought that I wasn't interested in her anymore because she was "damaged goods." She was afraid that I thought that she was too dirty now to love anymore.
We talked it out and ended up having a very nice session of lovemaking, after some initial awkwardness. There was still a lot left unresolved. But it seemed like we were headed in the right direction.
The remaining two weeks of our vacation were nearly up and it was time to get back to our jobs. We were almost looking forward to it. It would be nice to have some normalcy, some structure back in our lives.
We got up early the following Monday morning, ate breakfast and went off to work just like nothing had ever happened. I bragged to my friends at work about how great our vacation had been, trying not to think about those last three days.
That night, when I got home, Jenny was sitting at the kitchen table holding a large manila envelope and a small package mailed from Tenerife.
She was sitting and staring at them with a look in her eyes that was verging on terror. I looked at the envelope and saw that it was from "The Friends of the Banana Man's Club" in Tenerife. So was the package.
I hefted the envelope and finally I opened it and pulled out the contents. There was a letter on top, and two dozen large, professional looking photographs. Most of the pictures were of Jenny in the most disgusting and illicit poses, including when she had been forced to have sex with the young boys and the young girl.
There were also several pictures of me having sex with the young girl. I didn't know if these would be sufficient to have us arrested. I suspected that they would. They would certainly be all that would be needed to get both of us fired and ostracized by our friends and most of our families. I knew that my family was pretty understanding. But I had no doubt that they would not overlook the fact that on my latest holiday I had become a child rapist. No one in their right mind can condone that sort of behavior.
Looking at those pictures of myself and that young girl, even knowing what actually happened that day, I could see no sign that they were not exactly what they purported to be, pictures of me raping a young girl.
Jenny started crying again as soon as she saw what was in the envelope and realized that it wasn't over. I started to put the letter down and go to her but she asked, "What does it say?"
I turned back to the letter and read it quickly. It explained that in order to repay the people of Tenerife for the inconvenience we had caused them we would be given part time jobs to earn some extra money. Our part time careers were to be under the control of a Mr. Jeffrey Eng. His address and phone number were included.
The letter went on to say that we would only be required to work two days a week, as long as we cooperated and didn't cause any problems. I didn't recognize the name of the man who signed the letter. At the bottom of the letter someone had listed the names and addresses of most of our close relatives, and our employers. There was no threat stated. It wasn't necessary.
I opened the small package next and found a dozen DVDs. There was no note, but we knew what they were.
I got up and poured us both a stiff drink. The letter had instructed us to call Mr. Eng as soon as we received it. I put the pictures and the DVDs back in their respective packages and sat and tried to think of some way out of this.
We were not wealthy. Hell, we'd need more money to be poor. But we like our jobs and they have the potential to work into very satisfying careers and a good life. We couldn't just walk away from them and the rest of our lives. Even if we did, there was no reason to believe that our blackmailers would not find us again in short order.
There really was nothing to think about. We had to at least find out what these part time jobs would be. I suspected that the jobs would be falling on Jenny's shoulders. Well, much lower than her shoulders actually. I couldn't imagine what they would want with me.
After sitting in silence for a long time, Jenny reached behind her and picked up the phone and handed it to me. I put it on the envelope and stared at it, trying desperately to think of an alternative. It was useless. Try as might I could think of no alternatives. I picked up the phone and called the number we had been given for Mr. Eng.
A woman answered and I was put on hold for several minutes. Finally a deep voice came on and the man identified himself as Mr. Eng.
It was obvious that the man I was talking to was black. The accent was recognizable, too. It was the same accent that we had heard from the English speaking black people in Tenerife. In fact, he sounded just like Harold.
He asked if we had viewed the DVDs and I explained that we had just gotten home and the package had only come today. He instructed us to watch all of the disks. He estimated that it would take us thirty-six hours. Then we were to call him back. I tried to ask him about these part time jobs but he hung up.
I was furious and nearly threw the phone against the wall before I finally controlled my temper and put if down on the table. I told Jenny what he had said. It didn't take long. Not much had been said.
We didn't even talk about it. We grabbed our drinks and moved into our small living room. I put the first DVD into the player. It started with a few distant shots of us at the club that first night. For the first time we realized that they had known that they were going to do this to us before we even saw them, before Harold had even danced with Jenny for the first time.
There were a few more shots taken at the club. We saw brief glimpses of Jenny dancing with Harold. I learned about some of the embarrassing things that he did to her on the dance floor for the first time. But the action didn't really start until we got to Harold's house and Jenny was raped by Harold's father for the first time. From that time on they had filmed a great deal of what happened. All or a part of most of the rapes that had occurred from that time forward were recorded.
The worst, the most damning scenes, were those with the children at the studio. The scenes of both of us with the children were bad. My scene with that young girl was the most damning. That scene with me and the young girl was heart wrenching. It truly looked like I was raping a preteen girl against her will. We were well and truly damned if anyone saw these movies.
We watched three or four hours a night each night after work. I wouldn't want Jenny to know it. But I thought that some of the scenes were very erotic. They really turned me on. That was rare, though. For the most part we were just overwhelmed with oppression and fear.
That helpless feeling that painted every waking moment of the last three days of our vacation had returned and it was horrible for both of us. This thing was taking over our entire lives. We couldn't concentrate on our jobs or our relationship or anything else.
It took us eight days to watch all of the disks. I am sure it was harder for Jenny than it was for me. But several times after watching a disk we went to bed and she initiated sex. I was shocked. That was something that she hardly ever did in the past.
I lay there in bed afterwards, holding her in my arms and wondering if she was excited by a scene from the disk or if she was just making love to me to cleanse her soul, or some combination of the two motives. I was afraid to ask her though. It might lead to me having to confess to finding some of the scenes exciting and I was afraid of how she would react to that.
The last disk was various scenes from the last day as the hotel staff came through one at a time and took their turn at raping her. The shots were all taken from the connecting door into the next room. The angle and the lighting left a lot to be desired.
It had been obvious that some, if not all of the men were aware that Harold's friend John was filming from the next room. They had been careful to take every opportunity to make sure that the more humiliating things that they made her do were done so that the camera had the best angle to capture them.
But the constant parade of men was daunting. The very idea that she had been a prisoner in that room and raped by man after man for all of those hours and then had made an almost total recovery in only days was inconceivable. I decided to watch this disk again when I was alone. I would fast forward through all of the sex. I just wanted to count the number of men that had raped her that night and most of the following day.
Maybe I shouldn't want to know that. I shouldn't want to see it again. I know that. But I have to admit that the curiosity was driving me nuts.
It was nine PM when we finished the last disk and although it was late to be making phone calls, I was anxious to get this over with. I needed to find out just how onerous our new situation was. Jenny felt the same way.
The same woman answered the phone when I dialed Mr. Eng. She sounded like she was white and from this area. I didn't detect an accent. She also sounded very young, maybe Jenny's age or a little older.
I was put on hold again and in a few minutes Mr. Eng's deep booming voice came over the line. He asked again if we had watched all of the disks and I told him that we had.
"So you aren't going to give me any problems then, are you Mark?" he asked.
For some reason it upset me that he would address me by my given name like that. But I realized how silly that was, given the circumstances.
I answered, "No sir. Can you please tell us what this is all about?"
"Certainly," he responded. "Come to the address on the letter you received at seven tomorrow evening. I recommend that you are prompt. I look forward to meeting you."
He hung up the phone before I could respond. But no response was required. That had been an order. I told Jenny what had been said and we went to bed. I held her while she cried herself to sleep.
I lay awake for hours, worrying about Jenny and feeling awful that I was again in a position in which I couldn't protect her from what we both knew would be more sexual abuse, more rape.
The next day at work was unbearable. I was tempted to go home sick. I couldn't concentrate on anything and I caught myself making several serious blunders. I finally settled down and forced myself to concentrate during the last few hours of the work day. Just to be on the safe side I avoided doing anything that I could put off.
I went home and found Jenny all showered and dressed and ready to go. She had even made a light supper. We ate and then I showered and changed clothes. With a map we had downloaded from the internet we headed for the address we had been ordered to report to at seven.
It was not a part of town that we normally visited. I wasn't familiar with this part of the city. But judging from the cars and homes it was an upper middle class area. That what was about to happen was not taking place in some slum gave us cause to hope that the people we were about to see would be reasonable. We both still remembered all too vividly Harold's house in the slums of Tenerife and the indignities we had suffered there. I foolishly hoped that maybe this was just a big misunderstanding, something that could easily be cleared up. I knew it wasn't. But I had to hope.
We went to the door and I could tell from his voice that the man that answered the door was Mr. Eng. He was just like I pictured him. Large, black, middle aged, somewhat overpowering.
He stepped aside and we entered. He closed the door behind us and except to say, "Come in," he said nothing.
We followed him down a short hallway and into a parlor. We were surprised, and more than a little dismayed, to find that Mr. Eng was not alone. There were a dozen men sitting around the room with drinks in their hands. They were all black, and all middle aged. Some were very well dressed while others looked a bit ratty. They did not look like the sort of people that would normally socialize with each other.
They all stared at us quietly for a minute until Mr. Eng ordered Jenny to turn around slowly. She blushed, feeling very uncomfortable about being the center of attention again. We had done our best to push the memories of Tenerife from our minds and get on with our lives. Now it all came flooding back. Maybe it was just me, but I thought that it seemed worse now because it was in our home town.
When Jenny had turned, giving everyone a look at her from every angle, she came to a stop facing Mr. Eng and waited for the next command.
His next order was directed to me. "Mark, undress Jenny for us please."
He said it so politely, as though he were suggesting that I take her sweater and hang it up.
I heard Jenny as she drew a deep breath. It was starting. When we got home from Tenerife we had thought that it was over. But now it was starting all over again. Right up until that order was given we had been clinging to a faint hope that we misinterpreted the reason we had been ordered to come here tonight. There was no longer any room for hope. A dark wave of depression seemed to crash down on us at that moment.
I took two steps and then moved around in front of Jenny. Our eyes met for a second. She knew I didn't want to do this. But we both knew we were trapped. I unbuttoned her blouse, slipped it off of her shoulders and dropped it on a nearby chair. Her skirt followed and she was standing now in just her shoes and her bra and panties. I moved behind her and released the catch on her bra. I felt like a traitor as I slid it off and dropped it on the pile of clothing. Then I squatted behind her, slid her panties down and she stepped out of them.
I stood up and put her underwear with the rest of her clothing and stood there looking at Mr. Eng, watching while he and the others stared at Jenny. Perhaps leered is more accurate.
Mr. Eng got up and walked over to me. He handed me a very high quality video camera and told me to record everything that happened to Jenny this evening. As soon as I had the camera running he pushed me aside and moved closer to Jenny. He walked all of the way around her, slowly, but not touching her. Not at first. But after walking all of the way around her he placed his hand under one of her perfect breasts and said, "My dear, you are nearly perfect. You are even more beautiful than your pictures. I am really going to enjoy fucking you."
There was a chorus of agreement from the rest of the men in the room. A few of them got up and came closer. They examined Jenny closely. They just looked at first. But then they began running their hands over her beautiful, vulnerable body. One of them slapped her lightly on the thigh. She spread her legs for him, permitting him better access to her pussy.
He pushed a finger into her. Jenny gasped. But she didn't move or protest. He moved his finger in and out of her pussy for a moment and then smiled and said to everyone, "She juices up quite well, gentlemen. I think that we have a natural here."
He looked at Jenny and asked, 'Are you a natural, my dear? Are you a hot little bitch? Do you love to fuck?"
Jenny looked down and gave him the answer she knew that he wanted. She sobbed quietly and whispered, "Yes, sir."
Mr. Eng turned to one of the men and said, "Jerome, would you mind bringing your toy in? Let's have a little entertainment."
The man smiled and got up and left the room. He came back leading a naked woman on a leash attached to a ring through her nipple. He removed the leash and pushed her over to stand beside Jenny. She was very attractive, a tall redhead with a perfect figure. I guessed that she was about thirty years old. I could tell by the look on her face that she was just as unhappy about being here as we were.
I was so distracted by the two women standing side by side submissively in the middle of the room that at first I didn't notice another white man enter the room with a movie camera and begin filming. When I finally noticed him and looked in his direction it was immediately apparent that he was the husband of the naked redhead. He was obviously just as upset and just as humiliated as Jenny and I were.
Jerome said, "Cunt, tell Jenny how you came to belong to me."
The woman blushed. But she didn't hesitate. She looked at Jenny nervously and said, "My husband and I went on a vacation to Tenerife last year. We met a couple coming out of a club one night and they recommended a club that the locals like because they have a great band. So we went there and a man named Harold, he, well, he took control of us. He made me do things, nasty things. They took a lot of pictures and movies. Now I belong to Mr. Smith."
Jerome, Mr. Smith, asked her, "Tell her what you do for me, Cunt?"
"I do everything he wants me to do. I have sex with him and his friends, or strangers when it amuses him. One day a week I dance in a strip club in the Nigerian section and fuck the customers if they want me. One day a week I entertain men in another private club. I also fuck anyone that he sends to my house. And sometimes I go to a small, private movie studio and make pornographic movies."
As this poor, despondent woman explained everything to Jenny I saw the life go out of her. There was no hope left. She had nothing to look forward to but a life of sexual abuse and degradation, for who knows how many years.
While the woman he called Cunt was talking, Mr. Smith and his friends had all stood up and begun to undress. Once they were naked they sat back down. Mr. Eng ordered Cunt and Jenny to put on a show. This was nothing new for Cunt, I suppose. But Jenny's only experience with another female had been when she had spent a few minutes with that twelve year old girl in Tenerife. She knew, at least generally, what was expected of her though.
She let Cunt take the lead and they began to make love in the middle of the parlor in front of a dozen leering black men. They started out standing up, hugging and kissing with growing passion. It was easy to see that the passion was not genuine. Then they dropped to their knees and finally they stretched out on the floor and kissed and touched.
I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as I filmed them, getting the close-ups that I knew that they would want. But as much as possible I stayed out of the picture.
They ended up before long in the classic sixty-nine position. I could tell from their faces that despite all of the stimulation, neither of them was getting turned on. They were just going through the motions to please a gang of black men who were now in control of our lives.
The men watched for a while. They talked among themselves in their native language. But one did not need to speak the language to understand what they were saying.
All too soon the men got up and surrounded the two women. They separated the girls and put them up on their hands and knees side by side. Then they took them, two men at a time attacking each of the women. I noticed that the men only raped any one orifice for several minutes before they started switching positions. Before they started cumming they had each been in all four available orifices at least once.
Kaylin
- 19.02.2022
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