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“I’ll be God damned! She ain't got a thing on under that fancy coat!" The circle of menacing faces shifted around her so all of the members could get a good look.

Rita heard one of them say, "She must be one of them pampered rich bitches who can't get enough cock from her sugar daddy.”

A willowy blonde wearing only a studded black leather vest above her waist came up behind Rita. She swept the woman's red-golden hair aside and stroked long hard fingers down her back to feel the silky mink. "Is that it, bitch? Some fat old man gives you everything but a big cock?”

Rita couldn't get a word out of her tight throat. The brawny biker dropped a hairy hand to her tawny pussy mound and wiggled his middle finger into her wet cunt.

"Must be," he concluded. "She's hot and wet enough to fuck already!”

The hard-faced willowy blonde standing behind Rita was fondly stroking the sleek fur over the woman's ripe ass. "Hey, Griz," she said to the leader. "Make her give me that beautiful mink. I've always wanted to know what it's like being a rich bitch.” "Take it, Honey. With what I got in mind for her, a long black coat would only get in the way.”

Rita moaned and clamped her arms to keep at least something over her soft, sleek curves. But the grinning blonde pulled and wrenched her arms, working the fur coat off her back.

The woman stood naked and trembling, her whole body blushed red with shame. The blonde they called Honey gave a laugh that was anything but sweet.

Griz and the other horny bikers paid no attention to Honey. Their eyes were all on Rita.

"Take her inside," he said. "We're all gonna give this cock-seeking cutey what she came for.”

Rita cried as they pushed her through the broken door of the old barroom where she used to work. The shabby stage where she once danced still occupied the far end of the dim-lit main room.

A long bar with a scarred top stood on her right. More rough-looking bikers lounged against it. A girl was down on her knees before one of them. She was stark naked, forced lo kneel because her arms had been yanked behind her and bound to her ankles.

She was sucking one of three naked cocks lined up to feel the pleasure of her quivering lips. Raven-black hair streamed and swirled across her back as her head bobbed.

Her back was ablaze with stinging red welts still so fresh that Rita could almost feel the heat as she passed. A spreading puddle of cum gleamed pearly bright on the rough plank floor between the girl's bound legs. More spunk dripped from the bruised lips of her cunt as she swayed and sucked. She'd apparently been whipped to submission and fucked overly full. Rita winced at the sight, fearfully pondering her own fate.

"We caught us a more willing pussy this time," Griz said to the members inside. "She came down to the waterfront dressed like a rich whore just begging for cock!” "No," Rita said. "I was forced to do this!”

Griz laughed uproariously. "Forced by what, the heat of your cunt?” "The man who gave me the necklace," she moaned, trying to explain.

"A necklace ain't all he gave you?" Griz held the finger he'd had in her cunt beneath his nose. "Your pussy is wet with stale cum. That wasn't enough for you, so you came slumming to get more hot meat into your gash.” "I didn't," she sobbed.

The leering gang members were all laughing so hard it was useless to say more. Despite that, she could hear Doc Watson's voice clearly.

"Now you know what it's like when false evidence is all stacked against you," he said with a fiendish delight.

Rita sighed, grimly resigning herself to the inevitable gang rape. She decided to submit willingly and spare herself a brutal whipping. Her scowl of protest warmed into a seductive smile.

"Griz is right," she said in a strained voice.*Tm hot enough to fuck you all. Who wants to be first?”

Doc's scratchy voice said, "No, Rita! That would be too easy. I want you to resist!” "I can't," she whispered softly so that only he could hear.

"You will if you want to breathe!”

"They might kill me!” "No, they'll only make you wish you were dead. Griz is the leader so he'll want you first. When he gets close enough, you are going to knee him in the balls as hard as you can!” "N-n-no!" Rita hated to think of the awful wrath that would bring down. But her fear* of the choking necklace was worse. Doc was viciously cruel enough to let her suffer death by slow strangulation. At least the motorcycle gang members would keep her alive until they'd all fucked her at least once.

Griz ambled toward her with his hairy arms outstretched. "So, the fine lady is nothing but a fancy slut-unnngh!”

He reeled back with a bellow of pain. Rita's knee had flashed up to sink into his groin. Griz turned enough to partially block her crippling kick with his hard-muscled thigh, but his balls still felt mangled and about to explode with burning pain.

He hunched and cradled his battered ball sac in both hands. "Damn you!”

Rita whirled to make a dash for the door, but two rough bikers grabbed her arms. She kicked at one and clawed the other like an alley cat. Their hands clamped hard on her flailing arms and restrained her.

"You're gonna wish you'd been a willing bitch," one snarled. Rita sobbed in anguish. She already knew that, but Doc Watson had planned her torture well.

“Chain her!” Griz said with a deep grunt of pain. “Honey, get your whip!”

The ragged curtain parted and they dragged Rita upon stage. A length of heavy steel chain dangled from the loft above. It ended with a pair of manacles shaped like a figure eight that would lock her wrists together.

The cold steel jaws were forced around her wrists and snapped shut with a harsh metallic click. Rita thought of the sound made by the sinister necklace when she had first put it on. Her fear and feeling of helplessness brought shivers.

She heard the squeal of a metal crank and the clacking sound of a ratchet. The chain dangling at center stage pulled tighter. Her steel-shackled wrist were hauled above her head. Rita sobbed and shed bitter tears while the crank turned. She could barely reach the stage floor on tiptoes.

The willowy blonde who'd taken her mink coat stalked toward her with a coiled whip in hand. She looked almost ludicrous wearing the elegant fur with high black motorcycle boots. Honey glared and let the braided lash uncoil.

"Spit and call her a stinking slut," Doc whispered hoarsely in Rita's ear.

"Nnnooo!”

"Do it!” "Aaaggghhhh!" Rita felt the necklace tighten until she hacked a sticky load of phlegm into her mouth. She spit hard and screamed, "Stinking slut!”

The girl leaped back with cat-like quickness. Rita's spit only splattered the floor, but the words made Honey hiss with rage.

"Your sloppy whore's cunt must be big enough to fuck a fire plug!" Rita said on command.

The black bullwhip hissed and cracked sharply behind the snarling blonde's head. Then it blurred forward and coiled around Rita's waist like a boa constrictor. Honey yanked on the handle and pulled the braided lash like a top siring. Rita started spinning with dizzying speed.

Her tawny hair swirled and her vision blurred. Honey stepped back and cracked the whip twice in rapid succession. Rita felt a sting of hot pain in the crack of her ass, then another that spread fiery heat across her pussy mound as she whirled. A long, tortured wail ripped from her lips.

"It's going to be a real pleasure peeling the hide off your back," Honey said. "You're gonna feel like one of the minks that got skinned to make your fancy coat!”

The whip cracked again and left a blazing red welt that striped the whole length of Rita's writhing back. Her wail of torment shrilled louder.

Rita's metal-bound wrists sparked pain that ran down the whole length of her arms. Her shoulders wrenched and strained, forced to support almost her whole weight. She screamed and whirled in a lewd pirouette of pain.