New Title 1 (21 page)

“So don’t git mad,” Micky-Mack said. “We’se just admirin’ ya.”

“
Admiring
me?” she spat. “You were using my hand to masturbate with!”

Helton chuckled. “‘Tis funny how gals git their dander up over the littlest things.” He began stroking his penis again, and cradling his testicles. “All we need is somethin’…
provokertive
, ta gander, that’s all.” Another friendly chuckle, glancing to Micky-Mack. “See, I sent my nephew there to pick us up a girlie mag, and lookit what the dimwit brung back.” He picked a magazine off the floor, and showed it to her. The cover read SWISH FAMILY ROBINSON and showed a half-dozen young, muscular, and quite naked men standing cross-armed before a log cabin. They all sported erections of prodigious size. “As ya can see, the dumb-ass got a stroke mag fer
homa-sexual
fellas—got pictures in here’a fellas cornholin’ each other’n suckin’ peter! Damn, Micky-Mack, sometimes yer common sense is worth ’bout as much as a dixie cup full’a dogshit worms…and that ain’t worth very much, now is it?”

Dumar honked laughter.

“Aw, shee-it, Unc! I knowed we was in a hurry,” the boy retorted, “so I git to the magger-zine section with all the girlie mags’n I just grab the first one my hand lands on. Didn’t know it was for queer fellas. I ain’t never had much
use
fer girlie mags what with all the poon
I
bust. Shee-it, gals purdy much foller me down the damn
street,
and a lot of ’em I don’t even
know.
It’s ’cos word gits ’round, ya know?”

Helton frowned. “Word gits ’round ’bout
what?
”

Micky-Mack shrugged with nonchalance. “That I got the biggest dick in these here parts. What I need beat-off mags fer when ever gal in town’s standin’ in line ta sit on my giant cock?”

Helton pointed a finger. “Don’t’cha be braggin’, boy! Aw, shore, ya gots yerself a big pecker, but so did Tater Kline. ‘Member him? He had a dick on him a
foot long,
son, and he was always
braggin’
’bout it. God’s got
ways
’a gettin’ back at folks fer their sin’a pride.”

“Damn, Unc Helton,” Micky-Mack dismissed. “
Tater Kline?
Who’s he?”

Dumar honked laughter.

“I done
tolt
ya. God saw fit ta hang a foot-long pecker on him, so’s instead’a bein’
grateful,
he up’n brag about it any chance he get. Pull it out in the damn bar, he would, doin’
parlor tricks’
n shit. Flippin’ beer mugs, playin’ ring toss, flappin’ it around. So’s ya know what God done, boy? He just hauled back and laid on Tater a case’a the
dick
cancer, He did, yes sir! Then Tater had ta go the hars-spital’n get what they call a
penectomy.
It’s a
operation.
Dang doctor from
India
cut his dick
clean off
ta get rid’a the cancer. But ya know what?” Helton smiled with a nod. “Tater Kline never bragged ’bout his big dick never again.”

Micky-Mack’s eyes thinned through a contemplation. “Aw, I’se think yer makin’ that up.”

“Just keep braggin’ ’bout your
big dick.
See how long ‘fore it’s sittin’ in the bottom’a some doctor’s garbage can.”

Veronica could not
conceive
of this conversation between men with their penises in their hands…

“Don’t listen ta the boy, hon,” Helton said to her as she awkwardly hitched her pants back up and pulled down her blouse. “It’s just that with nothin’
provokertive
to lookit, we’se didn’t see no harm in lookin’ at
you.
” His bushy brows rose. “And, ya know, you could do us a big favor by helpin’ us out a tad
more
than that.”

Veronica stared up at him.
They’re going to rape me, I just KNOW it…

Micky-Mack stepped closer, bringing the whopper of an erection with him. “Ya know, it’d be real kind’a ya ta give us each a little toot.”

“A little…
toot?
” her voice creaked.

“Why, shore,” Dumar said. “Tease us up a bit, that’s all. Know what I mean?”

“No!” Veronica yelled.

Helton stepped forward with a shucksy smile, stroking his considerably
older
penis. “Aw, don’t’cha worry none—we ain’t gonna come. Just a li’l
suckin’s
what we’re lookin’ for.”

Micky-Mack appended, “We need ya to git our peters feisty.”

And Dumar, “We need our bones fit ta spit.”

Veronica’s head began to spin with the madness.
They want blowjobs! Oral rape!

“Ya’d be doin’ us a favor like ya cain’t imagine,” Helton went on. “And, ya know, if
you
was ever in a jam, why, I’d drop
ever
-thang ta help ya out.” He’d stroked himself to full hardness. His foreskin covered half the glans, which looked like a purplish bald head with a hole in it. “A’course, ya don’t
have
to. We was just hopin’ you
would
.”

Veronica’s thoughts tried to organize.
Careful now.
These psychos are playing some game, but if I don’t do it…they might kill me, and if they kill me…
Her heart skipped a beat.
I’ll never see Mike again…

She got up on her knees. “All right,” she said.

“
Dang,
if Veronnerka ain’t the nicest gal!” Helton celebrated.

“Just like ya tolt us, Paw,” Dumar said, ticking the underside of his scrotum with his fingertips.

“Shee-it, yeah!” Micky-Mack added. “Cain’t
wait
ta get my peckerwood in
her
mouth.”

Helton stepped around her legs, sort of like a cowboy getting on a horse. “Since I’se the elder’a the family,” he chuckled, “
I’ll
go first,” and then he brought his erection right up to Veronica’s face.

She gulped, her belly sinking, but when she moved closer and opened her mouth—

“Ooo! Helton!” she complained. “When was the last time you
washed
?”

He looked fuddled. “Warshed? Why, last Saturday, a’course. So’s we’se clean as a whistle on the Sabbath.”

Her face felt like potato chips crinkling—from the sheer
density
of crotch odor.
Oh, my GOD, this is DISGUSTING!
but then she considered:
Foul-smelling or not, I HAVE to accommodate these loonies,
so she steeled herself, tensed up, and took Helton’s erection into her mouth.
He’ll like this,
she felt sure and starting sucking,
because I KNOW I give good blowjobs. Mike’s said so many times…

“Ho, girl!” Helton intoned, then pulled out. “What’cha call
that?
”

Veronica smirked at the fetid taste in her mouth. “It’s a blowjob.”

“
That
ain’t no blowjob, missy,” he said and chuckled. “That’s what we call a fuckin’
disaster.
Shit, girl, don’t’choo know how to give head?”

Anger flared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I give
great
head! Mike’s told me so!”

“Mike, huh…oh, that silly fella back the store. Well, I reckon he’s just bein’ gentlemanly ’cos he don’t want to rile ya up but, Veronnerka? That’s smack-dab the
worst
dick-suckin’ I’se ever had. Hon, ya don’t drag her
teeth
up’n down over a fella’s
pecker!
There’s
technique,
see? A certain
way.
”

Veronica, in spite of the circumstances, was enraged.

Helton turned to his kin. “Boys, give it a go, each’a ya. Tell what’cha think.”

Micky-Mack stepped up next and slipped his equally malodorous but significantly larger erection into Veronica’s mouth. Trying hard not to breath, like
at all,
she stroked her lips back and forth over the engorged shaft—

Micky-Mack pulled back as if stung. “Shit, Unc. That dick-suckin’s so bad it’s liable ta kill my wood!”

Dumar
laughed
after his turn. “Hon? You got a thing or three to learn about blowin’ a fella proper.”

Veronica couldn’t comprehend
any
of this. Abducted, handcuffed to a table, molested, and now forced to perform oral sex, only to be told she wasn’t doing it right?

But…could it be true?

Had Mike simply kept quiet all the times she’s blown him?
My God! What if I really DO give lousy head?
All three of them concurred, so…

I guess…it IS true…

She wanted to break down in tears.

“Aw, now, don’t git all out’a sorts, hon,” Helton said. He pushed Dumar out of the way, then re-assumed his position. “I-ron-urcal, ain’t it? Now
we’se’ll
be doing
you
a favor.” He snapped his fingers. “Listen up, and I’ll tell ya how to suck a dick
proper.
”

Mortified, Veronica looked right at his veiny penis.

“First, ya gotta, like,
prime
the pump.” He pulled the flabby foreskin back, showing half-dissolved rings of smegma. “Ya grab hold and kind‘a
tease
the pee-hole open with yer fingers, then run the tip’a yer tongue over it.”

Mortified, Veronica did so, feeling Helton flinch in reaction.

“Yeah, that’s good, hon. It gits some spark in a fella’s works, ya know?”

Veronica felt ludicrous daintily roving the tip of her tongue over the small but plump slit.

“And once the fella gets harder, ya jiggle yer tongue alls around his meat, kind’a
toyin’
with it, and then?” Helton kept looking down at the kneeling young women. “Then ya stick yer tongue all the way out flat and start lickin’ the underside’a the fella’s bone—”

Veronica sighed, then commenced. The process reminded her of a child licking an ice-cream bar.

“Yeah, yeah, hon. That’s a tad better,” Helton informed. “But make shore ya play with the nuts, too—give ’em a little squeeze, ya know? Not too hard but just enough to let ’em know that somethin’s gonna be required of ’em soon.”

She continued licking while fondling the lump-heavy sack of skin, which began to magically constrict at her touch.

“And
now?
Now, hon, ya gets ta the meat’a the blowjob. Start off suckin’ the knob, slow at first, and light, thens a little
harder,
see, but—” He tapped her on the head. “But hear me out, Veronnerka…”

She looked up to see him frowning down. “What?” she barked.

“Yer still doin’ it wrong,” he said with a lenient chuckle. “What’cha do is this. Ya pull yer upper lip over you upper teeth, see, and stick yer tongue out over yer
bottom
teeth and kind’a make it curl, like a shovel-head—”

“A shovel-head!”

“Why, shore. Look”—and then he demonstrated, turning his bushy face into a mask of absurdity.

Veronica slumped, but mimicked what he’d done.

“That’s a girl!” he approved, and then he slipped his erection into contorted orifice. “Now, back’n forth, real slow but with each push forward ya slip a tad more in till—yeah! Like that!”

Veronica’s head began to move awkwardly back and forth over the rigid flesh.

“Looks like she’s learnin’, Paw.”

“Yeah, Unc. Who knows? We’se just might make a natural out’a her.”

“But while’s yer doin’
that,
” Helton continued to advise, “ya get a bit’a suction goin’ on in yer mouth—oh, and make shore to keep some spit flowin’ too now. And ya also need ta speed up a bit at a time…”