0 comments/ 5918 views/ 5 favorites Dyamond Ch. 01 By: breezybree Flames Strip Club, Manhattan Friday, 11:47 pm Shauna stared past the rim of her glass, watching the scene that was unfolding in front of the main stage. She lurked quietly in the back of the club, alone, while her man sat at the front table, his hands running over glittered asses and slipping dollars into dancers' panties. Shauna looked mature and sexy tonight, with her blonde hair freshly curled and hoop earrings that sparkled in the flashing lights. She wore a long black dress that reached just past her knees, with a slit up one side all the way to her hip. One thick, pale thigh was all it took-men had been all over her since she came in. But she only had eyes for Giovanni, watching his hands like a hawk. It was so subtle when he made the drop, she almost missed it. A stripper sat in his lap and arched her back, twisting her neck until her lips met his. Everyone around the table roared, eyes locked on the seemingly genuine, passionate kiss. But behind the girl's tattooed back, Giovanni reached into his own pocket, pulled out a baggie, and slipped it into the crack of her bottom, where it disappeared into her panties. Shauna pulled out her phone and typed a brief text message: Gs good. That was the signal that the drop had been made, and as the stripper disappeared into the bowels of the club to pass off the contraband to her pimp, Shauna breathed a sigh of relief. Another one down. That tiny baggie of Dyamond was worth a thousand dollars that was already wired to Giovanni's bank account. There was no room for error when it came to a prepaid drop. Dyamond was the newest super drug, as emotional and beautiful as ecstasy with the addictive potential of crack cocaine. A gram went for around $4,000, but it was usually sold by the "grand bag," which was a quarter of a gram. At the peak of the country's third war on drugs, "dying" was the riskiest, highest paying business in the underworld. The Dyamond market WAS the black market, and it was booming. Bringing in hundreds of thousands of dollars every month, Giovanni made a substantial living by dying. Shauna was along for the ride, acting as his secretary and managing his finances. With another successful sale in the bag, Shauna slipped away to the bathroom, which she'd been waiting to do for the last twenty minutes. The door to the women's bathroom erupted open before she could touch it, and two girls stumbled out, the unmistakeable sparkle in their eyes for which Dyamond was named. They had obviously just smoked a few rocks, because the whole bathroom was drenched in a sickly sweet scent. "Like roses on meth," was how Shauna had always described the smell. Pulling her shirt up over her nose, Shauna stepped into one of the tiny stalls and hiked up her dress to the top of the slit. With a sigh of relief, Shauna quickly took a piss then fixed her thong. Just as she was pulling her dress back down, she heard a commotion out in the main room of the club. A woman screamed, a man shouted. Then two distinct pops as a gun went off. Cursing to herself, Shauna fumbled with the lock on the stall. The smell of Dyamond in the air had made her head swimmy, and she opened the bathroom door with unsteady hands. The club was chaos. The music hadn't stopped but the strippers had hit the floor, and everyone was rushing the doors, trying to get out as quickly as possible. She scanned the crowd for Giovanni but the mob was thick and his table was at the front of the club. She pushed through layers of people, sweating brown bodies rubbing up against her as the panic started to rise in her throat. Giovanni should have been calling her that moment to be sure she had cleared out, but her phone was silent. Finally the crowd thinned enough for her to see the main stage. Her heart skipped a beat, then started pounding. Her veins felt like they were filled with ice as she walked toward Giovanni's lifeless body. The thought of crying didn't even cross her mind. She was in shock as she stepped over the pool of blood, reaching down to his pocket. She tried not to look at his face, where a bullet had blasted through his forehead, probably at point blank range. She didn't have time to think about that. The room was clearing out and she had to get out too. Pulling two grand bags from his pocket and a small gun from his sock, Shauna slipped everything into her purse and bolted for the door, shaking from head to toe. Outside the club, the scene was just as hectic. White women were crying, and everyone else was talking about what they'd seen with fervent drunken voices. Most people had crossed the street or run down to the corner, where they seemed to be trying to flag down a cop. The police had already been called, and the sirens were just starting to be audible in the distance. Walking at a calm pace and trying not to draw attention, Shauna headed towards the opposite street corner, away from the crowd. She crossed the bike lane and stood in the median, reaching out her arm to hail a cab. She hadn't broken down yet but it was getting harder to maintain her composure as the adrenaline wore off. Still feeling the rush of the Dyamond she had smelled in the bathroom, she felt as though this all must be a dream. All she could think was that she had to get back to Harlem and get to the stash. If someone came for Giovanni, they would come for her next. It was no secret they worked as a team. And if whoever shot Giovanni had known exactly where he was going to be tonight, it was probably no secret that there was over five hundred thousand dollars in drug money inside of their apartment. A black car pulled up to the curb, honking the horn once to snap Shauna out of her haze. She glanced at the green sticker on the window and climbed in, closing the door behind her, then knocked on the partition, asking the driver to open it. Instead, there was a soft hiss of hydraulics and then a solid click, as the rear door locks latched remotely. The surprise apparent on her face, she reached for the locks, but they had disappeared into the frame of the door. Cursing and shouting, she kicked her stiletto against the glass of the window, then the partition, as the driver pulled off. He spoke to the back of the car with an intercom, his voice crystal clear. "How have you been, Shauna? Long time no see. You can stop kicking my windows now. They're shatter proof." As he turned around in his seat, she matched his voice to his face and there was instant recognition. It was Darius; nothing had changed, not the scar through his eye, his snaggle tooth on the top, or his gold bottom grille. Shauna had met Darius in a rough time, shortly after her parents had passed and she was living on the streets, smoking meth. Darius had seen potential-he rehabilitated her, got her back on her feet, and basically nursed her until she had gained back her weight and her strength. Then he tried to pimp her. It was never a question in Shauna's mind whether she had the body to be a stripper. Everyone knew it. But Darius wanted to make her big. He'd offered to pay for her to get breast implants and take pole classes, but Shauna refused. It just wasn't in her nature. Darius had thrown her back out onto the streets and she'd never seen him again. When Giovanni had picked her up on 121st St and introduced her to the world of Dyamond, she'd never looked back. She'd honestly forgotten all about Darius, and what he'd done for her, both good and bad. "What the fuck is this shit, Darius?" She shouted at him, still trying to open the partition. "I'll tell you what this is, little bitch. You're going to stop fucking with my windows, first of all." He swerved the car hard to the left and then back, tossing Shauna around and banging her head on the door. She caught herself and braced against the partition as he swerved one more time, throwing her onto the seat. "Second, when we get to your place you're going to take me upstairs and show me around a little. Okay?" It wasn't really a question, Shauna knew, as he glanced over his shoulder at her. She glared back, waiting for his eyes to return to the road. Holding her purse low behind the partition where he couldn't see it, she unzipped it silently and pulled out Giovanni's gun, a subcompact Baretta that he carried with a single round in the chamber. She had one chance. Angling her body so she wouldn't get hit by the splash of shattering glass, Shauna took aim quickly and fired directly at Darius's head. The world exploded into sound and color. The glass spiderwebbed but didn't shatter, and as the bullet warped the partition for a few thousandths of a second, there was a sickening thunk as the glass struck the back of Darius's head, then another as his head hit the steering wheel. The bullet ricocheted back, landing in the seat of the car with all of its energy spent and absorbed by the bulletproof glass. The car started to drift right against the curb; with no control whatsoever, the axle twisted with a loud crunch and a metallic screech, and the car began to spin out. Screaming, Shauna got low in the seat and gripped the door handle, trying to grab onto anything she could. The side of the car clipped a pole, smashing the rear driver's side door into a mangled mess, before the car finally careened to a stop. Shaking, Shauna sat up slowly. She looked around. The car had crashed just a few blocks from the apartment, spun out over an empty intersection, and come to rest halfway up the curb. Tentatively, she pushed against the destroyed driver's side door, and thankfully it opened with a loud shriek. Glancing once at the body slumped over the steering wheel, Shauna took off running as fast as her high heels would allow. She was pretty sure there had been no witnesses, but there would be fingerprints. Those, however, would take time. Shauna still had the two grand bags of Dyamond in her purse, and less than four hours to make those drops before Giovanni's customers called Big Cash. And once Big Cash came looking, it wasn't going to be pretty. Mumbling curses under her breath and putting aside thoughts of all the death she'd witnessed tonight, Shauna strutted up her block like nothing was wrong. And prayed there wasn't someone upstairs waiting for her. Dyamond Ch. 02 Shauna & Giovanni's Apartment, Harlem Saturday, 2:26 am Shauna unlocked the front door of her building with shaking hands. The mental image of Darius slumped over the steering wheel of his tricked out towncar kept flashing in her mind. The lights were on in her building and everything seemed quiet as she climbed the stairs. When she reached the top of the stairs, she froze. The apartment door had been kicked in, the lock broken and the door pulled carefully back into place. "Shit," she mumbled, pulling the Beretta back out of her purse. There were no more bullets, but she hoped the threat of a gun would give her a little bit of leverage in the coming face off. Slowly, she pushed the door inwards. Everything was silent, and dark. She noticed the trail of nightlights that usually guarded the path from the bedroom to the bathroom had all been unplugged. Cautiously, she flicked the kitchen light on. A man stood in her kitchen, ready and waiting for her return. In his hand was a shiny new .50 caliber Desert Eagle-not the type of gun you wanted to go up against with a subcompact. Especially one that wasn't loaded. The two stood in silence in the kitchen for a long moment, sizing each other up. Shauna felt incredibly vulnerable in her six inch stilettos and strappy dress. The man she was looking at seemed to have no vulnerabilities. He was easily 280 lbs of pure rippling muscle under young, taut brown skin. His haircut was as fresh as his sneakers and there was no question that this was a Dyamond dealing playboy. He kept the Dezzy aimed at her forehead and said, "Close the door behind you, sweetheart, and put your gun on the table." Her mind raced. She had no other options. She reached back and pushed the door slowly closed, until the broken pieces of the lock touched. "Who are you?" She asked as she placed the gun on the table conspicuously slowly. "Don't worry about me, snowflake, you got enough to worry about. Step in the other room." He gestured toward the living room with his gun. Shauna took a tentative step in that direction, looking desperately for a weapon. The knife block was in reach, but the wrong direction. It would be too obvious if she went for it. She took another step toward the living room, and in one smooth motion, leaned over, snatched up a knife, and threw it. The man reacted too quick, ducking right as the knife stuck itself into the wall behind his head with a metallic twang. His hand was on her throat before she could make another move. This was clearly not the type of man who smoked what he sold. His gun pressed under her chin, he growled, "You think that shit was cute, you little stupid bitch? I'm just doing my fucking job. I'm trying to get a check! And I get a hell of a lot more if I bring you in alive, so don't make me kill you." The spittle was flying as he spoke, just inches from her face. She tried to scratch his face, but his arms were longer than hers, and he held her just out of reach, tightening his grip on her throat until she finally relaxed. He released her, and she gasped for air as he dragged her to the living room by her hair. Throwing her onto the couch, he pulled out a flip phone. "Put your face down into the pillows." He told her. She crossed her arms and replied with an adamant no, but he just grabbed her by the back of her neck and pushed her face down into the cushions. "Yo..." She heard him say into the phone, "It's Deejay." Shauna thought the name sounded familiar but couldn't place it. "Yea, I got the white girl. He still out back?" There was a long pause as someone replied on the other end of the line. "Yea, tell him give me like thirty minutes." He closed the flip phone with a click, and then Shauna heard a sound that made her sit up. The man, apparently named Deejay, had a roll of duct tape that he had just started to unroll. Shauna sprang from the couch and bolted for the door, confident that he was too concerned about bringing her in alive to shoot her. He was quicker than he looked, and jumped forward to catch her by her hair, snapping her body backwards. Thrown off balance, Shauna fell to the ground kicking, trying not to make too much noise. The last thing she needed was the cops in this apartment. "Bitch I'm not playing with you!" He shouted, striking her hard across the face. Stunned momentarily, Shauna stopped kicking. Her hands went to her head as stars swam in her vision. Before she knew what was happening, Deejay had pushed her face down into the couch and grabbed her wrists behind her back with just one big hand. She thrashed, but she was like a tiny fish in the jaws of a shark as he wrapped the duct tape around her wrists and over her hands and fingers, preventing her from being able to claw her way out. Picking her body up off the couch with a sleeper hold, he wrapped the duct tape around her hips, keeping her arms securely in place, then threw her back onto her face. Shauna kicked again. This time her foot connected with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him with a loud grunt. He stumbled back, but it didn't give Shauna enough time. She fumbled with the duct tape, but it was like wearing mittens made of tape. She was helpless. Furious, Deejay grabbed her hair again and yanked her head back until she yelped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked. He coughed once, a heavy smoker's cough, and spit the phlegm into her face. Coughing in disgust, she wiped her face against the couch, tears finally starting to sparkle in her eyes. Deejay took advantage of the momentary distraction, pulling her feet up to her wrists hogtie style. Slipping her stilettos off and dropping them on the floor, he taped her ankles to one another, then wrapped more around her middle, holding everything together. Deejay stood back and admired his work. Shauna just laid there, her hair a mess, makeup running, dress hiked up around her waist. Her legs were stretched back, exposing her crotch and the tiny black thong she had under her dress. "So we've got two goals here," Deejay said, leaning down close to her ear. "Somewhere in this apartment there's 50K cash, and somewhere in this apartment there's 50K in Dyamond. As soon as you tell me where they're both at, we can get the fuck out of here." "We? What's all this we shit? I'm not going anywhere with you." Shauna muttered, trying not to pull too had against her bounds. She had to conserve her energy; she had a feeling things were going to get much worse. Deejay pulled her head back and forced her to look at him. "You don't have much of a choice, snowflake. So do you want to do this easy? Or hard?" Shauna forced out an unbothered laugh. "I'm up for a challenge." "Dumb bitch," He mumbled. "Just trying to make my job more difficult, for what? I'm not even supposed to mark you up." Now she had a fighting chance. She was wanted, not just desperately but alive and in one piece. The only thing she didn't know was why. Deejay disappeared into the bathroom. The tap squeaked, then there was a roar of water filling the bathtub. He returned with a grey duffel bag and placed it in the middle of the living room floor. As he unzipped it, Shauna craned her neck, struggling to see inside. There was a magazine she couldn't identify, too big for the Desert Eagle, as well as another roll of duct tape. As he dug in the bag, she saw a sheathed machete and a coil of rope before he zipped it closed again, a small Leatherman multi tool in his hand. With a soft click, he unfolded a pair of scissors from the tool, and carefully cut away her dress. Shauna bit her lip and fought back tears, knowing there was nothing she could do. Without Giovanni, she was just a pretty girl with a lot of drug money. Her own gun, a Glock 19, was locked in the safe in the bedroom, where it was doing absolutely no good at all. Deejay picked Shauna up by the hips like she weighed nothing, carrying her to the bathroom. The tap was still running, filling the bathtub with cold water. "Nooo no no no!" Shauna shrieked, thrashing in his arms. "This is NOT happening!" Everything seemed so surreal as he plunged her face first into the icy water. First came shock, the cold stunning her to her bones. Then the panic, as she struggled to turn over. She splashed on the surface of the water, but with her hands and legs behind her back and the water getting deeper, there was no room to right herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to relax, tried to organize her thoughts into some kind of plan, but her entire world was cold, wet, and noise. Finally she surfaced, Deejay lifting her by the hair. She sucked in the humid air. Her hair was stringy and wet, clinging to her face and neck and blocking her vision. Just when she thought she had begun to catch her breath, she was pushed back underwater. This time she stayed calm, conserving her oxygen. She tried not to thrash too much but eventually her lungs started to protest. She arched her back, trying to raise just her head above the water. Mercifully, he pulled her up again. She gasped for air. "Stop!" she gasped, "Please stop...Why are you doing this?" She was crying now, her tears disappearing into the water. Deejay brushed her wet hair back from her face and kissed her ever so softly on the forehead. "I just need the combination to that safe an then we can be on our way." He spoke so gently, so sweet, like it wasn't even the same man who had almost drowned her just a moment before. Shauna thought for a moment. If she kept denying him what he wanted, he was just going to duck her back under the water. Who knew how long that would go on for. But if she left with him, he would have to at least release her feet to walk her out. And that gave her a fighting chance. "Okay!" She shouted as her lips began to kiss the surface of the water one more time. She went under momentarily, then came back up shouting, "Okay! Whatever you want. Fine. I'll unlock the safe." A Few Blocks Away, Harlem Saturday, 3:00 am "Yo! Yo man...you aight?" A voice shouted. He knocked on the driver's side window of Darius's towncar, struggling to open the door. Darius opened one eye slowly. The other eye was stuck shut, and as he reached up to touch it he felt the cold stickiness of drying blood. He looked up. A scrawny dark skinned kid was peering through the window. "You need me to call an ambulance, man?" Darius sat up, looking himself over for injuries. "Nah, man...no cops. Keep this between you and me..." He mumbled, reaching into his pocket and slipping the kid a new, crispy hundred dollar bill. "Just help me out real quick." "Yeah, bro, you got it," he said, reaching through the gaping rear door to take the money. The kid yanked on the front door again, and with Darius pushing against the inside, it finally came unstuck from the damaged frame. Sawing through his seatbelt with a pocket knife, Darius extracted himself carefully from underneath the mangled dashboard. "Yo what happened though? You aight?" The kid asked, looking up at Darius. He stood tall and strong, with blood running in a star pattern from the wound at the back of his head. His whole face was streaked with red, but he seemed uninjured and unbothered. "Look, man, when you got here I was already gone. You just saw the car all smashed up and you don't know what happened, you heard?" The kid licked his lips, thinking for a moment. "Yea, aight." He reached out a hand, and Darius shook it. "You be safe, bro." "Always." Darius replied. And with a snaggle toothed smile, he turned and walked away. "Fucking bitch!" He cursed to himself. He shuffled toward Shauna's block, staying close to the buildings and avoiding the glare of the streetlights. The blood on his head practically sparkled. He had to get off the street. Hitting the first number on his speed dial, he held his phone close to his ear. "Yo, Deejay." There was genuine relief in Deejay's voice as he replied, "You good man?? What the hell happened?" "That dumb bitch happened, fuck you think? I'll tell you when I get upstairs, I gotta clean myself up." He saw Shauna's building up ahead, but there was a crowd of people blocking his path. He ducked around the corner out of sight and tried to get a better look at them. It seemed to be about seven or eight kids, most of them teens or early twenties. They had liquor bottles hidden in black plastic bags and were passing around Black & Milds. They were obviously harmless, but the way Darius looked at that moment, he couldn't be seen by anyone on the street. "Shit, man. There's a bunch of kids out here." Deejay laughed. "So pop off a couple shots and they'll all run inside. We about to be outta here anyways. I got the cash." "Aight. Buzz the door for a minute and stay on the line." Darius mumbled. He produced a Glock from his waistband and put his phone in his pocket. Staying hidden, he aimed the gun at a spot on the sidewalk just a few feet from one of the kids' boots. All it took was one shot. The sidewalk exploded with a cloud of dust, and the familiar reverberating crack of a gunshot filled the air. The girl closest to the impact shrieked, and kids scattered. He aimed at the ground one more time and buried another bullet just inches from her Nikes. Panicking, screaming kids dove into the nearest store, keeping themselves low to the ground. Either it was their first time being shot at, or none of them had their guns on them, because they rushed inside the building like ants in the rain. Taking off at a full sprint, Darius rounded the corner and ran to the door, disappearing inside Shauna's building before anyone saw him. He pounded furiously up the stairs, the bloody lump in the back of his head throbbing painfully. Finally, he threw open the door to the apartment and there she was. Hogtied on the floor, dripping wet with makeup running down her face, Shauna lay in the middle of the living room, glaring up at Darius with fire in her eyes. Darius glared back. "Didn't I say it was bulletproof glass, retard?" Dyamond Ch. 03 Please be aware that this chapter contains non-consensual elements. This story is purely fantasy and I do not condone rape in any form. Always have explicit consent. ***** Behind Shauna's Apartment, Harlem Saturday, 5:00 am The sun was just beginning to kiss the horizon as Deejay led Shauna out the bedroom window. With the Dezzy pressed to her back, he marched her down the fire escape with a duffel full of clothes. They had dressed her in comfortable clothes that drew much less attention than her slitted black dress. Her tan workboots clunked softly down the metal steps toward a waiting white mini van. "Where are we going? And why am I bringing clothes??" Shauna asked. "I thought I told you to shut up twenty minutes ago?" Darius sighed. He had cleaned up nicely, a black beanie concealing the wound at the beck of his head. He had found some of Giovanni's clothes in the closet and changed out of his own bloodstained ones. Shauna breathed loudly through her nose but didn't argue. They'd been ignoring her questions for nearly an hour now and she was just succeeding in pissing them off. Deejay rolled down the ladder at the bottom of the fire escape and led the way down, Shauna and Darius trailing behind. As Deejay opened the sliding door of the van, she got a glimpse of the driver-slim but muscular, with tattoos covering his arms. His hair was twisted into short locks, but his face was turned away. He didn't even look at her as she climbed into the van. The interior was completely gutted. A plush black carpet covered the floor of the van, which had no backseats or seatbelts. The windows were so heavily tinted that Shauna was plunged into darkness as she stepped in. She crawled back into the corner and hugged her knees up to her chest. Fiddling with the string on her baggy sweatpants, she avoided making eye contact with her captors as they joined her on the soft floor and slid the rear door closed. Wordlessly, the driver pulled out of the alleyway and turned onto the empty street. The streetlights were beginning to click off as the wild night bloomed into a beautiful Saturday morning. Everyone seemed to be sleeping in Harlem, except for a few young stragglers still crawling home after a night of boozing and using. Shauna watched the streets flash by as they drove north along the Harlem River Drive. "Alright, snowflake, you've seen enough. Time to put your head down and get some sleep," Deejay said in that small, sweet voice he somehow kept for special moments. He petted her hair gently and Shauna knew that no matter how big and brolic Deejay looked, he was clearly a ladies' man. With an exhausted sigh, Shauna gave in and laid down, resting her head on her arm. Everything that had happened to her suddenly seemed so real, and now that the adrenaline had worn off, all she wanted to do was sleep. She slowly drifted off, the van rocking her gently into oblivion. Shauna woke abruptly to the sensation of cold air blowing against her pussy. She realized she had been stripped in her sleep, and now lay facedown on the floor of the van with her legs spread. "What the fuck?" She shrieked, trying to jump up. Someone's hand held her face down against the soft carpet, and she couldn't see anything behind her. She felt Deejay's huge hands on her ankles, holding her still. Then someone spit on her pussy. "Oh noo no no no! I do NOT think so!" Shauna started thrashing and shouting; there was no way she was about to let this happen without a fight. She knew they were probably taking her to Big Cash, and if Cash wanted her in one piece then they weren't dumb enough to hurt her. Darius finally let go of her head, grabbing her hips and pulling them up so that she was arched like a cat stretching, her knees spread and planted firmly on the floor. "You're so fucking loud! I never heard a bitch make so much fucking noise!" He grabbed her face, pinching until she opened her mouth, and shoved her panties into her mouth. Unluckily for her, she wasn't wearing the same thong as earlier. This was a pair of normal cotton panties, and they felt huge in her mouth as he shoved them all the way in. Shauna managed to get one leg free for a moment, and kicked as hard as she could in Deejay's direction, trying to free her other ankle. Her kick connected with his jaw, but he held fast, keeping her pinned to the floor, while Darius held her hands behind her back and duct taped over the panties in her mouth. Shauna's screams and protests continued, muffled by the gag. She flashed back to when she used to play victim with Giovanni, letting him "kidnap" her and tie her up. But being at the hands of two muscular freaks whose intentions she really wasn't sure of, was very scary. She felt the same warm feeling between her legs, though, that she had felt with Giovanni. And immediately she felt guilty. This was the real thing, why was she suddenly aroused? Darius crossed her arms behind her back and duct taped them, leaving her gagged and essentially helpless. "Yoo...you're not going to believe this, man." Deejay laughed. "What?" Darius asked, ripping off the excess duct tape and using it to bring her elbows closer together so she couldn't squirm as much. "This bitch is dripping wet right now. Literally." He touched her slit softly with his index finger. She felt like a dog salivating for a big juicy steak, and it embarrassed her more than the predicament itself. With tears streaming from her eyes, she looked up at Deejay, silently pleading that his softer side would come out and stop all of this. But instead he started unbuckling his designer belt, asking Darius if he had a condom. "You think I just carry condoms around?" Darius mumbled, rubbing his own crotch through his jeans, where an erection was just beginning to push its way up. Deejay, on the other hand, was ready, his huge cock bulging and straining against his zipper. Deejay looked at Darius with a dead serious expression and said, "Yes. Yes you do." Sighing, Darius pulled two Magnums out of his pocket and passed one to his accomplice. Shauna tried to crawl away, but with just her legs free she looked like a palsied worm. Slipping on the condom expertly, Deejay pulled her by the hips, putting her into the perfect doggy style position. She tried begging him to please stop, but everything was muffled through the gag. Deejay looked down at Shauna's thick white ass poking up into the air, and his dick throbbed. There was nothing he loved more than a pretty pink pussy, and Shauna even kept hers clean shaven. Even her puckered little asshole was a pleasant shade of pink, and, licking his thumb, he pressed against it gently, admiring her uncomfortable squirms. "I love a thick white girl..." He purred in her ear as he rubbed his cock against her slick, wet opening. Slowly, an inch at a time, he began to push his way inside her, holding her still as she struggled and cried. He felt it when he hit bottom, and she screamed through the gag as he pushed even deeper, shooting pain through her cervix. He stroked slowly at first, wetting his entire cock. When he felt like she was ready, he let go of everything he was holding back, and drilled into her body with all his massive strength. There was a repetitive wet, smacking sound as his hips struck her ass, now slippery with lube from the condom and her own juices. "I wonder if she can take dick that well in alllll her holes..." Darius mused as he began to unzip his pants. "Let's find out," Deejay laughed as he pulled his dick out slowly. He laid on his back on the floor and pulled her on top of him. "Ride that dick, baby," He ordered, guiding it back into her dripping cunt. Her moans of pain had began to blend into moans of pleasure, although she wasn't sure when or how. Suddenly she felt something cold and wet press against her asshole. It was Darius's cock, lubed up with spit and as hard as the first. She screamed, and tried to jump off of Deejay, but huge, warm hands held her from every direction, keeping her pinned in place as he pushed slowly inside. The double penetration was too much, and she exploded from the inside out. The powerful sensations overcame her guilt, and as the two men used and dominated her, she came harder than she ever had before. Her back arched and she let out a long screeching scream, like she was being ripped apart. Wetness streamed down both her legs and her face. She had never came while crying before. Sobbing and shaking, she waited until they had both cum and were finished using her. Not bothering to wipe the mess from her pussy, Deejay laid her down on her side and tied his shirt around her eyes. "We're almost there," He promised. Broken, Shauna just laid there. She questioned her own loyalty. Giovanni had died just last night and she was already having orgasms with other men. She felt disgusting, and with the blindfold on, all she could do was sit in the darkness and think. Someone gently removed the duct tape from her mouth, careful not to damage her delicate skin. She spit the panties out, now soaked with saliva, and ran her tongue over her cracking lips. "How you feeling, Snowflake? About five more minutes and you get to see The Cave." Deejay's soft murmur was oddly comforting in the blackness of the blindfold. She wondered about him. Did he have a girl back home? Someone he would die for? Or did he just run around with those arms and tattoos, breaking hearts? Big Cash had hundreds of connections. There had to be a reason he had sent Deejay to bring her to him. Darius's car, with the partition and automatic locks, had obviously been a crucial part of the plan, but he just didn't have the cunning to do it alone. Deejay had to be someone important. She made a mental note to remember his name. If Darius had cropped up again after years of silence, she was sure she and Deejay would cross paths again. He nudged her shoulder, snapping her out of her reverie. "I said how you feeling? You need some water?" Silently, Shauna nodded. She heard the zipper on his duffel slide, then the soft crack of a fresh water bottle being opened. She tried using the sounds to build a mental image of everything happening around her, to keep herself grounded in the darkness as the bottle touched her lips. "Aight, slow down a little. The turnoff is around this corner and you'll probably miss it." Darius said, leaning over Shauna to speak directly to the driver. There was a soft bump as the van turned off the road, then gravel crunched under the tires. Shauna squirmed, trying to sit up. She had idea where she was and she felt like they'd been driving for hours. Finally, Deejay cut away the duct tape that bound her arms behind her back and removed the blindfold. The sunlight that streamed in the window was stuttered, broken by hundreds of trees passing by the van. Sitting up, stretching, and looking around, all Shauna could see was trees. They were in a forest somewhere, on a narrow brown strip of gravel. The road had been built to preserve the forest, winding around the biggest pine trees. After a few minutes, the flora began to change. The trees became thinner and the sunlight streamed through. Suddenly she realized the entire ground was covered with flower buds, closed tight and waiting to bloom. "What are those?" Shauna asked, looking at Deejay and pointing at the buds. "Flowers, stupid." Darius grunted, lighting a cigarette with a match. Unbothered, Shauna leaned forward curiously to get a better look at the flower buds. It was summer and the sun was shining, yet every single one was sealed shut. There were thousands of them, covering the ground as far as she could see, each flower twisted into a tiny spiral. The pine trees continued to thin as the van rumbled along the gravel road, and finally she started to see a building peeking through the trees. As it came into view, Shauna's heart skipped a beat. A huge stone house stood tall amidst the trees, made entirely of elegant black granite. The accents around the door and windows were brilliantly silver, glimmering in the filtered forest light. The three-story behemoth was beautifully maintained, with a shiny silver roof and black roses wrapping around the front and sides of the house. She even spotted a pretty little Asian girl, artfully trimming the rosebushes in a pink sundress. It was like another world, just a few minutes from the main road. "Welcome to the Cave, Snowflake." Deejay's smile was genuine as he gestured to the beautiful home. "This is Cash's house?" She asked in amazement, wide eyes taking it all in. "Nahh...he spends more time at his beach house in LA. But you can't stay in La-La Land year round or you'll go crazy. He mostly stays here when he's got business in NYC." Deejay gestured to Shauna's duffel. "I suggest you fix yourself up before we go in there." Nodding, Shauna tore her eyes from the house as the van came to a slow stop in the U-shaped driveway. She pulled a hairbrush and some lip balm from the side pocket of her duffel and gave herself a once-over, then slipped on some fresh panties and sweats. Still in her workboots and the same cropped tank top she had left her house in, she looked casual but sexy. All Cash needed to see was that flat stomach and beautiful face. As Darius opened the sliding door of the van, the sickly sweet smell of roses hit her full force. She sneezed twice, checked her hair in the side mirror, and took a deep breath. "Sorry but I can't make it look like I was being too nice to you," Deejay mumbled, pulling the Desert Eagle from his duffel and pointing it at Shauna once again. He took her by the shoulder, and with the gun pressed to her back, he marched her up to the bright red double front doors. Shauna froze. "Go on. Knock." With trembling hands, Shauna reached up to the silver knocker and slammed it against the door three times. Her heart beat against her chest, but she focused on breathing normally. This was the moment Giovanni had been killed for. Big Cash didn't want for anything or anyone. He had it all, that much was obvious from the extravagance of his home. But for some reason, he wanted her.