bikers4.txt

    The leader got up from behind Leslie and walked slowly into
the bathroom.  Becky became aware that no one in the room had
spoken during this entire exhibition and, even now, everyone sat
silently staring at the young figure on the bed.  One of the men
got up and walked outside.
    The leader came back into the room wiping his arm off with a
towel.  He stood and stared at Becky.
    "Well, bitch," he said, "we have 'bout enough film.  I guess
it's time for the big finish."
    Becky only stared at him.
    "How'd you like the show so far?  Kinda makes ya horny doesn't
it?  Don't worry bitch, we'll be fuckin' you too, soon enough.
But we won't take it so easy on you."
    The words stabbed at Becky like knives.  "Please," she said
one more time.  "Please, don't do it.  Let us go now, we won't
tell who did it."  Motioning over to her half-conscious friend she
said, "She's dying and you know it.  What's it matter to you now.
Let us go, please?"
    "Fuck you bitch," he said as he motioned the men with the
camera's to get ready.  "This is it, I want it good, got it?"
    He told one of the biker girls to give Leslie more drugs to
make her more conscious of what was going on.
    "I don't think her body can handle any more shit," the girl
replied.  The leader walked over to the speaking girl and slammed
his hand across her face, sending her sprawling across the floor.
"You wanna fuckin' join her bitch?  I said give her more.  I
didn't fuckin' ask your dumbass opinion."
    The girl scrambled to her feet and picked up the needle, again
filling it with the same pink liquid.  Walking to Leslie, she
grabbed her arm and slammed the needle into it.  Leslie offered no
resistance.
    Becky slowly let her eyes run across the body of the thin girl
laying on the bed.  Just two days ago, Leslie was a pretty,
bright girl who loved life.  She worried incessantly about her
appearance and got depressed over so much as a pimple on her face.
Now that face was swollen to an almost unrecognizable shape.  Her
injured eye was completely shut and her skin was tinted red from
dried blood.  There were cuts and scratches over her entire body
and Becky could see that her friend's abdomen had continued to
color deep, dark purple.  It was now distended and Becky correctly
assumed that serious damage had taken place during the man's violent abuse
of the girl.
    The injected drug seemed to have little effect on the girl as
the man walked back to her.  Another of the biker's got up and
walked out of the room.
    "Pussy," the man muttered as he stared at the closing door.
"Fuckin' pussy."
    Looking down at the girl laying prostrate on the bed, the man
gently stroked her hair.  "Ok bitch, it's almost all over.  Time
for your big scene."
    Leslie's eyes stared straight ahead.
    The man pulled a knife from his pocket and opened the blade
holding it in front of the young girl's eyes.  Leslie tried to
speak but only air escaped her lips.
    Becky pleaded with him to stop.
    "Fuck you bitch," was her only answer.
    Slowly the man traced the blade of the knife up Leslie's back,
not pressing hard enough to cut.  Leslie lay there, either unable
to move or having given completely up.
    "More fuckin' drugs, NOW," he ordered the biker girls.
    One immediately moved to Leslie and injected a vial full of
pink liquid into the girl.  Immediately, Leslie began to twitch
and shake.
    "Good, she's OD'd, this'll make a good one," the man said,
motioning the camera's to get all the action.
    Becky sat in silence, closing her eyes to the scene.  She
could hear her friend gurgling, unable to breathe properly.
Opening her eyes, she saw that the entire bed was shaking
violently as Leslie convulsed on it.  Her friend's skin had turned
pale white, in sharp contrast to the color of her lower stomach
which had moved from deep purple to almost black.
    As the young girl writhed on the bed, gasping for air, the
leader reached up and quickly ran the blade of the knife against
her right wrist.  Immediately, blood spurted out, shooting nearly
two feet from her body.
    Leslie attempted to scream but no sound escaped her lips.  She
continued to violently convulse as her life's blood shot from her
wrist.  One of the men in the room muttered something and walked
outside.
    Steadily now, Becky watched as her friend's violent movements
slowed and her breathing became more and more labored.  The blood
continued to shoot from her wrist but not quite as far as at
first.  Leslie's eyes were bulging but she did not seem to see as
the large man stood up and lowered his pants, again revealing a
raging hard-on.
    Getting behind the young girl, he plunged himself into her
vagina.  The only movements Leslie now made were involunaty ones,
her breathing was increasingly shallow and unsteady.  As the man
continued to plunge into her, Leslie's eyes rolled back into her
head and her body went again into violent convulsions.  Becky
screamed.
    The man continued to push in and out of the now limp girl.
The blood flow had stopped from her wrist.  Becky looked at the
wall and the floor, spattered with Leslie's blood.  A large puddle
had formed between the wall and the bed where the blood had
squirted.  The dirty sheet on the bed was beet red.
    The man withdrew from Leslie as he came and he shot sperm across
the girl's back in a final abuse of her body.  Slowly, the man got
to his feet and pulled his pants up.  As he buckled his belt, he
looked down at the motionless body.
    "What a fuckin' waste," he muttered and then turned to Becky
but said nothing.  "Get her ass out of here," he ordered to two of
the men still in the room.  "Make sure you get rid of her where no
one will ever fuckin' find it."
    The two men crossed the room and quickly untied the girl's
arms.  The fell limply to the bed.  Wrapping her in the sheet from
the bed, they pulled the body from the bed.  It landed on the
floor with a thud.
    "Please," Becky said through her tears. "Please, no."
    The two men glanced at Becky and then pulled Leslie's body
across the room.  A smear of blood followed it.
    "Clean that shit up," the leader said to the biker girls.
"Clean it all up good."
    He then left the room and went outside.
    All of the men then left the room and Becky heard them
starting to laugh out on the porch.  Three of the biker girls
stripped the bed and another brought out a pail of water and a
mop.  All worked quickly, removing all signs that anything had
ever occurred.
    One looked over at Becky.  "I'm sorry hon, but it's over now.
You'll have to understand Red Devil.  He's screwed up that way but
he's got it out of his system now."
    Becky just stared at the girl.
    "Don't look at me that way," the biker girl continued. "I
didn't do any shit to her.  Besides, she's dead now and ain't
nothing either of us can do about that."
    With that, she turned her attention to the wall, trying to
remove the blood spatters that covered it.
    After a few minutes, the four girls left the room.  Becky
looked at the bed and the floor.  The bed was neatly made now and
the only remains of the earlier struggle was the pinkish tint the
wall had taken on from the smeared blood.  Becky sat alone and
again started to cry.  All of this had happened because her car
had broken down.  Her friend was dead, violently tortured to death
and she had no idea where she was.  She was certain that the same
fate awaited her but she was helpless to do anything about it.
She wished it had been her on that bed instead of Leslie.  At
least her friend was gone and could suffer no more.
    Becky wondered what had become of her friends body.  Leslie's
parents would never see her again, and, for some reason, that hurt
Becky even more.  She kept seeing her last sight of Leslie in her
mind, the battered, bruised body.  The way the young girl had
tried to get air but wasn't able.  The violent shaking and
shuddering.  It all kept repeating in her intellect.
    The sounds outside were of a party.  The effects of the
afternoon of violence were nothing at all on the people out there.
Becky wondered how anyone could do something of this sort to
another human being.  She had never been able to hurt anything at
all.  In fact, she remembered being upset once because she had
caught her brother pulling the wings off a fly.  Slowly, the
actions of the day caught up with her and, emotionally drained,
she fell asleep in the chair.
    Becky opened her eyes to darkness.  Still strapped in the
chair she was so stiff she could hardly move.  She had no idea how
long she had been asleep but she heard no sound coming from
anywhere.  Her hands were numb from the reduced blood flow due to
the tape covering her wrists.
    "Help me," she said softly, not knowing what the result would
be.  "Please help me."
    Still no sound.  She spoke again, only louder.
    "Is there anyone out there?"
    Suddenly she heard footsteps on the porch.  The door swung
open and one of the biker girls walked in the room.  Becky could
barely make out the outline of the girl in the darkness.
    "Well hello there sweetness," the girl said as she walked to
Becky.  "I didn't think you were gonna wake up."
    Becky looked at the girl's face.  She was probably no older
than 19 or 20 but she looked 10 years older.
    "Of course," the girl continued, "you aren't the one who ain't
never gonna wake up, are you."
    "Please help me," Becky pleaded. "Please, I have to use the
bathroom."  She was only half lying.
    "Red Devil'll have me on that bed if you get loose.  You
wouldn't want that, would you?" the girl asked.
    "Please, I'm gonna pee myself if I don't get to the bathroom.
Please, just for a second."
    The girl looked at Becky and reached out, touching her face.
    "You're so sweet, hon.  I'm sorry for what happened to your
friend.  It wasn't right but, Red Devil said that we had to do it.
For the money, you know."
    "Please," Becky said again, "Please let me loose for a few
seconds."
    The girl stared at Becky for a second.
    "OK, but you try to get away or anything and you'll be sorry.
You'll have to be quiet too, cause the others are out on the porch
smokin' dope."
    With that the girl began to undo Becky's wrists.  As she did,
she whispered to Becky, "OK hon, I'll help you get out of here,
OK?  But, you have to do it at the right time.  Not now.  Later
tonight, they'll be all drunk and shit, after they start your
movie."
    "My movie?" Becky said in a loud voice.
    "Shut the fuck up," the girl said with a worried tone in her
voice.  She stared at the door waiting for one of the men to come
in.  "Just listen.  They ain't gonna hurt you tonight, that comes
later.  Tonight, they want to get a picture of you bein' forced to
make it with me."
    "You...," Becky whispered.
    "Don't get all panicky and shit on me.  Yeah, me.  They were
talkin' outside how'd you get all freaked and shit bein' forced to
make it with another girl.  Just don't make it too rough on me,
OK?  If I can't get you turned on, they'll beat the shit out of
me."
    "What do I have to do?"
    "Just follow along with me.  Resist at first and all, but then
really get into it.  Let 'em think you really like it and all,
then when they're done makin' the movie, they'll get all fuckin'
blitzed and shit and we'll get away then.  Just make it look real,
OK?"
    "But, I haven't ever done anything like that before."
    "I told you, just follow along with me, it'll be OK.  Now, get
in and use the bathroom then get back in here.  They'll be comin'
in soon and I don't want to get the shit kicked out of me."
    Becky walked quietly to the bathroom.  Finally she saw a
glimmer of hope that she may survive this ordeal.  Still, she
wondered why this girl was suddenly being so nice to her.  At any
rate, she knew that she didn't have much choice.  She certainly
wasn't interested in having sex with her but, if that was her only
chance, she'd make it a good one.