Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: Rhettxxoo@aol.com Subject: "Southern Hospitality" by Rhett Dreams, 1/10 [mf, crime drama] SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY by Rhett Dreams (c. 1996) Authors note: This story borrows characters from two novels by Thomas Harris: "Red Dragon" and "Silence of the Lambs". They appear in subsequent chapters. It is highly recommended that you read this particular story in order; otherwise, you miss important elements of the plot. Warning: This fictitious story is decidedly NOT politically correct and is intended for mature readers. Chapter One "Sheriff... ent..." The police radio squawked in the patrol car of County Sheriff Paul Trent as he cruised the two-lane rural highway in Southern Mississippi. It was almost midnight and it had been very quiet. This was not unusual for this town or this highway. Most of the traffic took the interstate that traveled along the gulf coast of Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and into N'Orleans. Aside from the locals, it was infrequent that a traveler took this route. "Trent here," he said into the microphone, his pulse quickening as he recognized the voice of Ward Price, owner and operator of the gas station several miles west of his position. Price only used the police channel for one reason. Fresh meat was on the way. "Some sleazy looking guy driving East in a blue van," said the disembodied voice on the radio. They had simple code they used in case someone was listening in on the police channel. Price said guy but it was a woman driving the car. Sleazy meant she was a real looker. Blue van translated into a red sports car. "Got it. Thanks." Having done this a dozen times, the team had the timing down perfectly. Price would rouse his brother Sam to look after the gas station and would be east- bound with the tow truck within ten minutes. Five miles east on the highway, Trent took his position behind a clump of bushes and waited for the target. When the car raced by, Trent estimated its speed at greater than seventy on the fifty-five mile per hour road. He pulled out and flipped on his flashers and accelerated after the girl. She pulled over a mile down the road and he eased the cruiser behind her. He smiled when he saw that the car was an expensive Mercedes convertible with Florida plates. It would bring at least twenty-five G's from the cut-up shop in Jackson. Easing out of the cruiser, he walked up to the driver's side door, his flashlight illuminating the blond girl and the entire front seat. "Do you know why I pulled you over, Miss?" The girl was very attractive and quite stylish. Her thick blond hair was tied back with a red and yellow scarf. From his position above her he could see down the front of her yellow silk dress and noted that her white lace-covered breasts looked quite sizable. Her dress ended at mid-thigh and her legs were long and shapely. "Cause you small-town cops have nothing better to do than harass people from out of town," said the girl, petulantly. Then she added, "Just give me the Goddamn ticket so I can get the fuck outta here." "License and registration, please," he said calmly while his blood raced at the insulting comments. She'd pay that one back many times. "Jesus H. Fucking Christ!" muttered the girl as she leaned over and fished in the glove box for her registration. While she was searching for her papers, Trent scanned the car and was pleased to see that it wasn't equip with a phone. He was always quite cautious about abducting a girl who might have just called someone on a car phone. It was too easy for the record of that call to help the Bureau trace her movements and narrow down the search area. Trent had spent twenty years in the FBI before retiring and accepting the Governor s appointment to the vacant position of sheriff of this county, so he knew all the tricks. "Here," she spat out as she shoved her license and registration at him. "It'll be just a moment, Miss," he said and returned to the cruiser. The license was issued to Bethany Albert, age twenty- five, and the address was in Tallahassee. The car, however, was registered to a man in Tampa. Trent waited precisely two minutes before returning to the car. "Please step out of the car, Miss," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "What the fuck?" said the girl. "Now, Miss!" Trent caught a flash of garters as the girl pulled herself out of the car. After steadying herself on her three-inch heels she turned toward him and was about to say something snotty. "Hands on the trunk," he barked, "legs spread!" Uncertainty appeared in her eyes for the first time. She moved to obey. Standing behind her, Trent allowed himself a second or two to appreciate her shapely form before placing his hand on her back and pushing her forward onto the trunk. "Who'd you fuck to get this car? Huh, cunt?" His hands frisked her professionally and quickly. He found nothing except the ripe, centerfold body that he expected, dressed to kill in garters and stockings under her expensive silk dress. "Let me goooo," she wailed. Then, "This isn't legal you ass---" "Shut your hole!" he commanded and pulled one arm behind her, cuffed it, then the other. The sound of the handcuffs clasping shut around her wrists added to the girl's fright and she went docilely when Trent led her to the cruiser. She cried out when he slammed her against the side of the police car, holding her there with one hand while he opened the back door. Trent was quite practiced at these techniques from a career of law enforcement and a generally nasty disposition. He had no trouble manhandling the scared girl into the back seat and locking her in. Trent pulled out and headed west. As he passed Price in the tow truck he flashed his lights to indicate that all was well. Price would have the Mercedes loaded on the flat-bed tow truck and covered within five minutes. Before day break, it would be delivered to a warehouse in Jackson that specialized in preparing expensive cars for resale on the black market, or cutting them up for parts. By the time they were finished, it would be untraceable. Trent ignored the girl's questions and outbursts as he drove down a series of dark roads until he arrived at the Heinz farm. It was no longer owned by the Heinz family but was still called that and would be forever. The only permanent resident was Tom Webber, a fiftyish black man who acted as caretaker and helped with the cunt meat brought in every month or so. Webber had several run-ins with the law, and Trent had used the last one, vehicular manslaughter, to guarantee his loyalty and silence. Webber had leapt at the opportunity to avoid prison and, to top it off, to get a job that paid well and didn't require much work. And he grew to appreciate the fringe benefits. As Trent pulled the cruiser in front of the dilapidated house, the girl's concern and irritation turned to real fear. This was clearly no police station. "Where are we? Wha--- What's happening?" she cried. "Shut the fuck up, cunt," was Trent's response. Webber met him as he got out of the cruiser. "Y'got another one, Mr. Trent?" "That's right, Tom. I think you're gonna enjoy this one. She's got a body to die for and an attitude that'll need correctin." A wide grin appeared on Washington's face. "You got it," he said. "I think I'll help out on this one, Tom. Pay back for some of the things she said." "That'll be just fine, boss." - o - "Aughhhhhhh," cried the girl as Tom whipped her again with the belt. He and Trent had no trouble bringing the girl into this basement room of old mansion. She was quickly tied onto a home-made contraption made of wood, metal and upholstered with leather. Her legs were spread wide and fastened at the ankles to the base. Her still-clothed body was stretched over the black leather-covered, barrel-like top. Her arms were stretched tight and locked in place. The rounded top of the bondage contraption had a gap at the top that allowed access to the girls breasts from underneath. Her head was forced up by a small ledge that fit under her chin. When her eyes opened again her view was dominated by Sheriff Trent, who was sitting three feet away in a chair casually smoking a cigarette. "Once again, cunt, who did you fuck to get the Mercedes?" This time the girl held back the cursing response that earned her the sharp pain of Tom's belt. "H--Howard... It belongs to Howard Stennis," she replied. "Ah," said Trent. "The registration was in his name. And the rock on your finger, did he give you that as well?" "Yes... we're engaged." "I see," said Trent. "Tell me about him. What does he do? Where does his money come from?" "Why should I---" Her retort was cut short when she screamed after being whipped by Tom. This time Trent signaled the black man to continue and smoked silently while the girl was whipped time after time. "Stop... Owww... oh, shit... please stop!" Trent raised his hand, stopping her torment. "You were telling me about Mr. Stennis." "Uh, oh... Um, he's retired, I guess," she said, struggling to catch her breath. With a few prompts from Trent she proceeded to tell him what he needed to know. Her fiancee, Stennis, was a fiftyish man who'd made a lot of money on Wall Street, divorced his wife and moved down to Tampa to do some fishing and enjoy the local talent. Trent learned that he made her sign a pre-nuptial agreement that limited her options in case they divorced. The girl's widowed mother lived in Maryland, living off her husband's insurance. Trent wanted this information so he'd be better prepared if anyone began a search for the missing girl. In Beth's case, however, he doubted if her street-wise fiancee would do much other than file a cursory report with the cops. He and the cops would likely assume that she found another rich man in New Orleans and perhaps had sold his car for spending money. When he'd heard enough he motioned to Tom. The girl cried out again as the black man began cutting off her clothes, a piece at a time. While he worked his mouth was set in a crooked grin. He'd never even seen a naked white girl before Trent had recruited him, much less fucked one. This would be their twelfth victim and he felt the blood rush to his oversized cock as more and more of the bound girl's body was exposed. She cried out and tried every now and then to struggle against her bindings, but gave up after she had rubbed her wrists raw against the leather cuffs that held her. "Best yet, Sheriff," he said when she was completely nude. "She'll bring fifty K, maybe more," said Trent in agreement. Both men began to undress, eyeing the shapely body of the sobbing girl. When she saw Trent's cock bobbing in front of her face, the girl cried again. His cock was at least ten inches long, the hard muscle covered with thick veins. With her eyes clouded with tears and her mouth open in terror, Trent shoved a rubber gag into her mouth. The donut-shaped gag fit over her teeth and stretched her jaw wide. The center was open, and he positioned the head of his cock at this entrance to her mouth. The girl gagged when his cock hit the back of her throat. Then again when he pulled back and drove once more to the back of her throat. She fought to control her panic and forced herself to breath out of her nose. Her panic returned when she felt the black man's cock press up against her sex, moistened only by her exertions over the last half-hour. A searing jolt of pain hit her when the black man stabbed his thick rod into her sex, trying and failing to gain entry. "Better grease her up, Tom," said Trent. "We don't want damaged goods." The girl pushed the hysteria from her mind, fighting desperately to survive this ordeal. The cock at her sex was pulled away, only to be replaced a minute later by greasy fingers than invaded her dry sex and pushed deep inside. Trent's thrusts into her mouth continued and she felt his cock start to enter her tight throat each time he rocked forward. Strapped in like she was, with her torso bent over the barrel and her chin propped up by the ledge, the man had a straight line for his long cock into her mouth and throat. The girl had considerable experience pleasuring her partners with her mouth, and had occasionally taken a cock into her throat, but she had always the one in control. She would time the throat penetration for after she'd gotten her gag reflex under control, and relaxed the muscles of that passageway. In this case she had no control, and the cock was longer than anything she'd ever experienced. She forced herself to take a breath each time he rocked back and to will away the gag reflex as he fucked his long cock forward, into her throat. After another dozen strokes she felt his balls slap against her chin as his cock drove deep down her throat. The pain from her sex returned as the black man forced his thick rod back into her now-lubricated cunt. "She called me an asshole, Tom," said Trent as he watched his associate work his enormous black cock into the helpless girl. "Shee-it, boss," said Tom, driving his eleven-inch monster to the hilt. He paused once she was corked and muttered, "This girl's gonna wish she hadn't." Although she was far from being a virgin, Beth Albert had never experienced anything like the cock that began slowly fucking in and out of her stretched hole. The lubricant helped a bit but she still felt pain as his rod filled her as never before, stretching the walls of her cunt and pressing painfully against her womb. She tried to block out the pain and focus instead on accommodating the cock fucking her throat, forcing herself to anticipate the cadence and to breathe when she could. Her attention was totally on the cock fucking her mouth. "Get her ready for me, Tom," said Trent. The black man grinned and worked a greasy finger into her ass while he rocked back and forth, driving his cock faster now into the white girl's tight cunt. As the triple rape continued Tom increased his pace until he was slamming his hips against the helpless girl's ass, thereby driving deeper the finger that stuck lewdly in her ass. The girl's brain clouded over with conflicting signals from her body. The cock fucking into her throat was no longer a problem. It's cadence was regular, allowing her to breathe, and the early discomfort from each foray her into throat faded away as the signals emanating from her cunt dominated her senses. Each time the massive cock scraped over her clit she felt a building pleasure that was mixed with dull pain each time his cock bottomed out against her womb. And the finger in her ass was a new experience, unpleasant at first but now it contributed to the assault on her senses. Trent withdrew his cock and stepped back, his cock shiny from her spit. He pulled the gag from her mouth before strolling out of sight of the girl. "Oh!" she chanted as Tom raped his cock brutally into her cunt. With the cock gone from her mouth all of her senses focused on the throbbing signals from her clit. The pleasure was building, driving all thoughts from her head except for the climax that was soon coming. She felt a new sensation after Trent backed himself under the table and sucked her hanging breast into his mouth. When he chewed on her erect nipple she went over the edge, crying out in release. As the waves of pleasure rolled through her body and brain, she was dimly aware of the cock jerking as it slammed into her, and of the flood of cum that followed. "Oh, God... Oh, God," she chanted as her orgasm continued and intensified from the feeling of her tormentor's cum hosing the walls of her stretched cunt. When she was finished she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. The spent cock was pulled out of her cunt with an audible plop, and she felt guilt and shame at her body's unwitting response to this rape. "Nice piece o' white ass," said Tom, pulling his finger from her ass and slapping her playfully. "We'll see," she heard Trent say. Tom chuckled and she realized that her torment was not complete. Her brain registered that the white man hadn't cum in her throat and that he was going to fuck her now. She groaned inwardly, feeling again the soreness from her well-fucked cunt, and new hands on her ass. She cried out when the fingers spread her cheeks apart and she felt his cock at her anus. "No!" she cried. "Take me... the other way!" "You called me an asshole, bitch! Now you're gonna feel me up yours!" She screamed as he pushed his cock past the tight muscle of her anus and into her virgin ass. The pain was sharp and unrelenting as he worked his greased pole into her ass, ignoring her cries, until he was buried to the balls in her ass. The girl cried and sobbed as the sodomy continued, his strokes slow but unyielding. The pain lessened only somewhat as the rape of her ass progressed and Trent's fingers dug into her firm fleshy cheeks. "She tight, Boss?" "Yeah, Tom... Good and tight." Tom watched his boss work his cock back and forth into the whimpering girl, and smiled to himself. He knew Trent would leave once he'd finished butt-fucking the beautiful blond, back to his office to call the Mexican and arrange for the pickup. Within a couple of days this girl would be servicing ten or twelve men a day at a brothel south of the border or, if she was lucky, she'd be en route to the Middle East to spend the next ten years as a slave to a rich Arab. While Trent was arranging the details and negotiating her price, Tom would have the blond to himself for a few hours before he'd have to clean her up for transport. The black man grinned and said to himself, "Fuck her good, Boss man, 'cause I'm gonna be plowin' that white ass jus' as soon as you're gone." Tom thought back over the year since he made the bargain with Trent to take this job. He'd avoided a lengthy jail sentence, and that was important. He only got paid $1,500 per month plus a bonus for every body delivered to the Mexican, or otherwise disposed. Three times it was men that Trent bagged. If they were pretty they'd sell them to the Mexican, just like the cunts. And Tom would fuck em', just like he planned to do to the blond as soon as Trent left. One time the guy was older and Trent knew the Mexican would have no interest in him. The fancy car was sold and Tom buried the man's body in the woods. This was after he'd kept the man strapped in for twenty hours and raped his white ass repeatedly. "God I love my work," he said to himself, his attention drawn back to Trent when he heard the lawman grunt and dump his load deep in the blond girl's bowels. - o - Sheriff Trent put the phone back in the cradle and leaned back in his comfortable chair, a smile on his face. He'd showered after returning to the small brick police building, and changed into a new uniform, before calling the Mexican. Rodrigues had bitched and moaned about paying $60,000 for the girl, but had agreed in the end. "Just make sure that nigger doesn't damage her," he said. "And the money is assuming the girl's as nice as you're claiming." Trent knew full-well that the Mexican would pay, and that he'd probably get his investment back in six or nine months, less if he sold her outright. Trent's real profit was in the girls, not the cars. He'd probably clear only $10K for the Mercedes after splitting the proceeds with the Price boys. Except for a two grand bonus for Tom's services, and the cost of his salary and upkeep, all of the money from the girls was his to keep. "Except for the ten percent that Frank charges me," thought Trent. His brother, Frank Trent, managed the local bank and laundered the cash to an offshore account in the Caribbean. The balance would exceed three hundred thousand once the new money was deposited. He said good-bye to the night sergeant and eased himself into his cruiser for the short ride home. The non- descript ranch house was dark when he pulled into the garage and let himself into the quiet house. After locking up his gun and drinking a beer, he ambled to the back bedroom and entered, undoing his belt as he looked down at the dark body on the bed. Celeste was fifteen when he found her beside the road one afternoon ten months ago. The small black runaway was cut and bruised, her clothes torn in rags, having just been raped in the back of a pickup by two white boys who had given her a lift, stole her money and dumped her there. Trent brought her home, cleaned her up, fed her and put her to bed. A few nights later he came home after a late shift to find her sleeping, nude, in his bed rather than hers. He accepted her unstated offer and fucked the young black girl that night, and most nights since. She kept house and cooked his meals and let him use her body as he wished. They hardly ever talked and Trent suspected that he'd come home one day and find her gone, along with the five grand he kept in a metal tin in a kitchen cabinet. The girl woke when she heard Trent's boots clunk against the floor. She rolled over onto her back and sighed sleepily, her black eyes focusing on Trent as he disrobed in the dark room. She tossed the sheet off her body and eased her legs apart. Her hand slid down her ebony body to her sex where her fingers played idly to get herself ready. Trent was not one to waste time on preliminaries when he came home for a middle-of-the-night fuck, she knew, and she wanted her cunt wet and ready for his long tool. Now nude, his cock half-erect, Trent stood at the foot of the bed, his hands on his hips, gazing at the ripe young black body before him. She was a small girl, just a few inches over five feet, and her firm breasts were on the small side, barely a mouthful. But she had a woman's hips and strong thighs, and her ass was large for her frame. Her slender back flared gracefully into a pair of firm, meaty black cheeks that stood proudly from her body. Trent tore his eyes off the girl and retrieved something from the top drawer of his dresser. When he turned back he had a large dollop of lubricating jelly in his palm. As he applied the jelly to his cock, and stroked himself to his full ten inches, the girl sighed audibly and rolled over onto her front. By the time his cock was greased and ready, Celeste was laying with her head on a pillow, her ripe ass stuck invitingly in the air. The girl felt Trent's body climb onto the bed and braced herself when she felt his hands briefly caress her cheeks before pulling them apart. She'd learned how to take him in her ass without the pain of the first few times, and pushed back as he entered her slowly. She moaned as his cock wormed it's way inside, the sense of fullness overwhelming. She knew that the feeling would grow more pleasant as he fucked her, and that she'd cum before he did, twice if she fingered herself. Trent quietly fucked the young girl, his mind alternating between the here-and-now and the images of his earlier butt- fuck with the blond. He stroked his cock steadily into the softly mewing girl while his hands felt the weight and firmness of her cheeks and hips. He increased his pace after several minutes, knowing from the tone of her sounds that she could take him faster. Having cum an hour or so earlier he was totally in control, savoring the feeling of her tightness and her submissiveness and replaying the images of the bound blond in his mind. He finally erupted after he'd been fucking her tight ass for over twenty minutes, sent over the edge by the gyrations and cries of the girl as she came for the second time. -- Story Submission: Newsgroup FAQ: Archive site: (Not pretty yet)