A literotic sexstories: Brandy's Nightmare Part Two by The_Barbarian ,
Brandy’s story of abuse and pain continues.
Brandy looked up at Vlad with scared eyes. The carpet dug into her knees uncomfortably and she felt tears running down her cheeks, she hadn’t even been aware she was crying. Brady was nude, her petite body exposed, the cruel bruises very noticeable on her fair skin. Vlad was nude as well, his massive cock hard and hanging to his knees. He was a mountain of muscle, and Brandy knew he could snap her neck in an instant if she displeased him. She reached out with a shaking hand and curled her slender fingers around Vlad’s uncircumcised cock. Brandy gently peeled the foreskin back to expose the glistening head. Vlad grinned.
“So you can learn. You aren’t as dumb as most American girls.” Vlad said in his deep baritone. His Russian accent reminded Brandy of Dracula and would have been funny on another man, but there was nothing funny about Vlad.
“Suck, little girl.” He ordered, and Brandy didn’t dare disobey.
Brandy flicked her small, wet tongue over Vlad’s tip. She ran her tongue along his piss slit slowly, up and down, all while holding his foreskin back. His cockhead had a musk, like testosterone. It was a manly smell, and she didn’t hate it. Slowly, as if Vlad’s cock was fragile as fine crystal, Brandy wrapped her pink lips over his pulsing head. Lovingly she suckled, then took him slightly deeper, a fraction of his length at a time. Brandy’s jaw ached, just to get the first couple of inches inside her mouth, Brandy had to stretch her jaw so wide it hurt.
“More.” Vlad growled and put his hand on the back of her head.
Brandy tried to take more, but it was hopeless. She was tiny, and Vlad was a giant. He pushed on the back of her head, insistent but not forcing. When she grunted but was unable to take another inch of his cock, anger glared on Vlad’s face. He pulled her away, a handful of her soft blonde hair in the Russian’s ham sized fist. He yelled something at her in a foreign language. She sobbed and cringed.
“I can’t take any more, you’re too big!” Brandy squalled, but it was too late.
She saw Vlad was reaching for his belt. It lay draped across the footboard of his bed. Brandy screamed and raised her arms in front of her face just as the belt came down. The crack of leather against the girl’s skin filled the room. She tried to twist away as the huge man rained blow after heavy blow down on her frail body. Brandy was screaming and sobbing, trying to do anything to avoid the belt until finally the abuse overwhelmed her and she crumpled onto her side and lay sobbing.
Vlad stood over her, panting. His rage had passed for the moment. She felt his hard fingers digging into her upper arm and then the pain of being hauled to her feet. Naked, crying and trembling her pulled her to the bedroom door and unlocked it. In the next room Brandy could hear Andre and Trey laughing and Sveta crying. There was a crackling sound for a few seconds and the girl cried out in fear and pain, which only brought the demonic laughter once more.
Just like the rest of the house, the living room was expensively furnished. The carpet was white, as was the leather sectional and matching chair. Trey held the squirming Russian girl on his lap, both were nude. The crackling noise came again and Sveta sobbed. The skinnier man was torturing the helpless girl with quick touches from a stun gun on its lowest voltage setting. Andre was standing nearby, coolly sipping a drink and smiling. Sveta looked at Brandy with pleading eyes but there was nothing she could do. Brandy couldn’t free herself from this Hell let alone Sveta. Vlad pushed her closer to Andre, who grinned even wider.
“Nothing too rough.” He said.
“I’ll try.” The huge black man said sarcastically.
Brandy stood trembling as Andre approached. Brandy expected the usual groping, but something was different this time. She saw a deep evil in Andre’s dark eyes. Quick as a striking snake the hugely muscled man drove his hard fist into her stomach. Brandy’s knees buckled and she hit the floor. She moaned as her mind tried to process what had just happened. He had hit her, as hard as he would have hit a man during a fist fight. He hadn’t held back at all, and he had hit her low in the belly, right above her pussy. It was a new pain, strange and frightening. She looked up and Andre was smiling demonically. From somewhere far away she heard Trey laughing and Sveta sobbing as Andre unzipped his jeans.
Part 2
Outside the heat was still typical East Tennessee in late summer; sweltering. Inside the gym was blessedly cooled by an industrial sized AC unit. Besides, after the Middle East, the infamous southern humidity wasn’t so bad by comparison. It helped that now Eli Winter wasn’t lugging over 100lbs of gear, ammo and his government issued S.A.W. through a warzone. It was early, a Friday morning, and the gym was mainly empty aside from the hardcore weightlifting addicts.
The gym was a catharsis for Eli. He had always been athletic, even as a kid. Now he was twenty-nine and at six foot two inches, he weighed 260lbs of solid muscle. He kept his light brown hair buzzed short and stayed clean shaven. He never touched drugs, rarely drank and it showed in his clean lined musculature and face. He was handsome and intelligent, but after leaving the Marine Corps four months ago had been adrift. The service had been his entire adult life, and now that was behind him Eli was unsure of what to do. He had earned several degrees during his time in the Corps and had a good job, but still the future seemed uncertain.
“You ready for an ass whipping, leatherneck?” The voice cut through Eli’s concentration, and he settled the barbell on the rack.
“Getting cocky with a superior officer, corporal?” Eli grunted, and sat up.
“No sir.” Will replied with a grin.
The two men bumped fists, Will’s dark brown besides Eli’s white. Even though they had served in different units, and had only met after they had returned to civilian life, Eli felt a kinship with the younger African American man. William Jackson was three years Eli’s junior, with a serious yet friendly demeanor. He had grown up in one of the poorest, roughest neighborhoods in Knoxville and the Marine Corp had been his way out. It had also shown him another side to life that he hadn’t believed was real. The Corps had done more than give Will Jackson, one of five children of a single mother, a way out of poverty. It had set him on the path to honor, duty and self-respect, much as it had for Eli.
“Jeff is on his way.” Will informed Eli. Like Eli and Will, Jeff was an ex-Marine. He was an unarmed combat trainer, and one of the hardest men Eli had ever met. The three men tried to meet at least once a week to lift weights, swap stories, and take advantage of the gym’s MMA training facilities. Though both of the younger men were combat veterans, Jeff was a step above in terms of skill. They all kept one another sharp, and were bonded in a way that only ex-military men could be.
“Hey Eli. You’re already sweaty I see.” The voice was a purr, and Eli looked up.
Traci stood over them, smiling. She was dressed in the tight black and red spandex that the female trainers wore. She taught aerobics classes and was toned enough, and showed enough skin to drive the soccer moms and office workers who made up her clientele into fits of jealousy. She was tall, gorgeous, with high cheekbones, pale skin, flashing blue eyes and a mass of shining deep red curls that hung past her shoulders. She pushed her pelvis closer to Eli as they talked.
“Nothing too strenuous.” Eli said, taking a long drink of Gatorade.
“What is your bench up too now?” She asked in her best ditzy voice.
“320.” Erik said, with a bit of pride.
“Oooo, I believe it.” Traci cooed and gripped Eli’s bicep long enough to give it a squeeze. “You know I’ve got a new number right? I switched carriers.”
“I didn’t know.” Eli said noncommittally. He had went on a few dates with Traci when he had first started coming to the gym and had tried to avoid her as much as possible in the last month. They hadn’t connected, and she had become clingy too fast.
Across the gym Eli spotted the tall rangy form of their third man. Jeff’s short blond Marine cut and narrow jaw was unmistakable. Traci reluctantly left to give her first class of the day. For the next few hours Eli’s world consisted of takedown techniques, striking and submission moves. As Jeff was demonstrating a ground hold on Will, Eli noticed that they were being watched. Eli recognized Andre, they had talked and spotted one another on the bench a few times. He was an enormous black man, with muscle on top on muscle, the type of build that only comes with steroids. Caught in the act of watching, Andre immediately began acting like he was doing anything else. He began chatting with a girl that Eli had saw around the gym, a pretty blonde who looked like she belonged on the cover of Barely Legal. He shrugged it off, but kept an eye on Andre and his training partner, a skinnier guy Eli had heard called Trey.
Eli had just went up the stairs to the second floor, unlocked his apartment door and walked through when his phone sounded. The text was from an unknown number, but the attached pic left no doubt who it was. Traci had sent him a selfie taken in her apartment bathroom, she was nude, her red curls pulled back and her straight white teeth gleamed in a man eating grin. There were rumors that she had made a few porno movies when she was younger and Eli knew from experience that she definitely had the skill. A second message came through, a video this time. Traci was laying in her bed, upper body propped up with pillows, and legs spread. Her perfectly shaved cunt was in a close up, her neat pink lips parted to take a slim orange vibrator. Her face was twisted in ecstasy as she fucked herself, and she moaned deeply. Eli had heard those moans not that long ago. The video was short, only fourteen seconds. The third text came a moment after it had finished playing.
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