Free The Dunwich Romance by Edward Lee Page A

to such less-than-stately verbal regards, just as she was no stranger to rape. Often, she’d simply resign to it, for resignation tended to minify the physical damage which often played chaperon to resistance. Today, however...
    She’d had enough. She made to bolt, but—
    “Whar yew goin’, gravy boat?” Wheeler’s cumbrous form moved with unexpected quickness—right toward Sary—in a manner that left no secret of his intent. The exclamation “Nooo—!” was all poor Sary had time to issue before Wheeler had girded her with his porcine arms. The remainder of her objection was interrupted by the vising of her throat in the crook of the man’s elbow; this action produced an immediate reduction of the blood-flow to her brain. Wheeler’s other arm wrapped about her abdomen.
    Consternation and outrage tried in earnest to break through the force being so brutally administered against her, yet in an instant, her vision dimmed. Her consciousness took on a lolling buoyancy, even as her feet flew off the floor and she was lain roughly on the card table and divorced of her gown...
    At once, her body raved.
    “It be only fit thet I warn ye,” Kyler intoned, yet before he could give more voice—
    CLACK!
    The Lang man kicked the soothsayer’s cane out. Down Kyler went, to the dusty wood floor.
    All I wanted was some rock candy, Sary thought through her fading sentience, but look what I get instead... She lay in a torpid daze, and she could see only as if through soiled gauze. As much as she wanted to fight and flee, her muscles made only the most feeble responses to her will. She couldn’t move, no, but she could feel, and what she felt was the reality of her physical body being metamorphosed into a smorgasbord of touch-fodder for deviants. Rough hands splayed over her quivering skin, squeezing, kneading, pinching, plucking. Fingers burrowed into her sex, a thumb prodded her anus. Her private hair was stroked adoringly, then abruptly yanked and twisted. Soon it was more than hands she felt molesting her; it was raw, hardening genitals. One penile shaft pap-pap-papped! against her lips; another, slicked with spit, was pressed between her breasts and drawn in and out after one of the demented toughs straddled her. A third—Tobias’ she would later presume—was squeezed between her feet. Eventually mouths sucked her nipples to numbness; someone may have bitten her inside the thigh.
    The visual “gauze” betrayed only the most inchoate blots of darkness, but at least she believed her overall range of vision was ever-so-slowly regaining clarity.
    Words seemed echoic.
    “This gull’s body got my dick jumpin’ like bullfrog on a skillet! En’t no way better ta get a tickle in yer blood and some feist in her joint like mussin’ a whore up jess fer the hell of it!”
    “Bet her pussy’s had more cock in it than I’ve had hole cutters in the ever-lovin’ graound! ”
    “I’ll be a-breakin’ my eggs on these tits, ee-yuh, but not afore I fuck this pussy like I’se charnin’ buttuh!”
    When Wheeler pinched her clitoris and twisted, Sary’s hips flinched, and she managed to mutter, “Eat shit, fat man...”
    Wheeler chortled. “Wal naow, Stew Face, jess fer sayin’ that I’ll make damn sure you be eatin’ shit ahf-tuh I’m done tarnin’ yer cunt inside-aout with my pecker!”
    Cackling exploded; Sary moaned. Her consciousness, indeed, was returning, but she suspected this return would take place only after the definitive act of rape had commenced; she knew, likewise, that pleading with the men, or offering them her dollar bill as a dissuasion, would prove a profitless endeavor indeed.
    Kyler’s voice sounded from a lower angle, surprisingly quiescent. “I warned ye onct, I’ll warn ye again, fellas. Yew’ll regret whut it be ye’re fixin’ ta do...”
    Wheeler’s voice: “Thet balt-headed gimp’s pipin’ up again.”
    And Tobias: “Shut yer maouth, cripple, lest ye want it filled with what’s in