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Retribution
« on: September 11, 2020, 12:34:51 PM »
Retribution

You could pretty much have guessed she’d walk into trouble, a girl like that in Gallatin, West Virginia.

A lot of bored, resentful guys with no jobs since the mine closed. Families that had been there for generations and the ones that could make their way in the world had left long ago.

No-one in charge of regeneration since Harry Jansen got arrested – and then Mayor Doyle appoints some guy from Vermont – with a daughter. Callista Greenwood. Callista!

Seventeen when she came to Gallatin, eighteen when she got the inevitable. New England accent, read books by French and Russian guys, put up stickers for Obama, not that they stayed up long. Slapped Joe Lane when he squeezed her butt.

Which reminds me. Long legs, good jugs, roundest ass in Gallatin. Dark red hair. Pretty face, for those that’s into faces, like I hear some are.

Add a Callista Greenwood to Gallatin and anyone with sense could work out what you’d get. Pretty much obvious where it’d come from, too. The Swamp Gang. Ground down that way used to be marshy, so it got the name The Swamp. Not the part of town a Callista Fucking Greenwood would live in. It was where Jeb, Andy and Brandon Colson lived, Ethan Jardine, Mike Novak and some others. Crushed the Bridge Gang and then we were the biggest thing in town. Cops hit us from time to time and otherwise left us alone.

Some crap Country band was coming, that was big in Gallatin and Cuntvista Greenwood decided it was a good opportunity to hand out leaflets against the proposed development on Bear Lake. She didn’t know what was happening till she was cunt served up on a plate. Figures. The Swamp Gang, eight of them, we cut her off from the rest of the crowd, backed her to a wall and bundled her through a gate someone had carelessly left unlocked into the yard of Thompson Furniture.

She shouted, but she didn’t scream. The boys kicked her a bit to soften her up and then got down to the serious business of ripping her t-shirt and jeans off. No bra, but there was a pair of white panties with little blue stars. They came off too.

She was saying “No” and “Don’t”, which is routine, like, but also “Think about this!”, which was a tad strange.

“I will think about this,” said Jeb, “after we’ve done it.”

A little V of red hair on her cunt. An arse to fucking kill for. Jeb smacked it. It flattened and bounced back. Bouncier than a kid’s ball.

“Please don’t do this,” she said. He sat on a barrel, put her over his knee and spanked her maybe ten times. Enough to make her white arse red. Enough to make her squeal. Some of the other guys took photos.

She kinda knew Ethan.

“Ethan, please stop them!” she cried.

“Why should I do that, cunt?” he drawled.

“You been raped before?” Jeb asked her.

“No!”

“It’s your lucky day, then.”

“Have a feel,” he said to Andy. “Tell me how tight she is.” Andy wasn’t going to say no. He groped. He looked surprised.

“Well, what a surprise,” he said. “The slut’s a virgin.” The lads don’t need to pretend to surprise.

“Nobody ever wanted to fuck you before, Miss Greenwood?” asked Mike. No answer. “Hey, you got no manners or something?” He slapped her hard.

“Anyone fancy a slut sandwich?” asked Jeb. “Get her face up, ass down. Ethan underneath her fucking her ass, me on top fucking her cunt? Then change round and we all get a go?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” said a guy called McDonnell. So Jeb got to deflower her, that kinda went without saying and Prissy Miss Greenwood got eight guys up her cunt and eight up her ass-hole. Not all at once. She was sobbing and limp and we told her we knew where her Pa and her kid brother went fishing and where her Ma went jogging and she’d better not tell on us.

She didn’t. But she kinda went all quiet and mopey after that and soon after her Pa took a job in Washington and the family moved out. We assumed she’d gone to some Ivy League college or thrown herself in the river, didn’t much matter which.

We were wrong.

Five years passed. Andy Colson went into the army. Billy Pickess got married, but Sue was like one of us almost. I was working the machine at Gordon’s. I had a sixth sense and looked round. Cop walking behind me, not looking at me. Bitch cop. Young. Looked familiar. I kinda discipline myself not to look hard at cops in case they look hard at me. It was only when she was past and I was taking a good look at her ass. That ass. It can’t be. Callista Greenwood.


Some women never recover from an experience like Callista’s in the yard of Thompson Furniture. Callista was strong, idealistic and determined, but the experience marked her. She gave up plans for a degree, instead making her own studies via the internet and night classes. She took a job as a receptionist and handywoman at a community centre in Baltimore and immersed herself in campaigns on women’s issues, against rape, domestic abuse and hard porn. She became frustrated at the weak police response – indifference, often. Then a philosophical old police captain said to her,

“If you care so much about how we behave, why not join us and change us? You’re young, sharp, fit, and excuse me for saying, your job doesn’t live up to your potential. In the police, you could get promoted pretty fast.”

She took his advice. A while gaining her spurs in Baltimore and then she heard they were short of cops in Gallatin. No surprise. It wasn’t the kind of place many cops would want to move to and it wasn’t a job that appealed to many of the young locals. Should she? As soon as she asked herself, she knew the answer. She could not buck this challenge. To go back there and walk tall. To put right the evil that had marked her. Like they said, you fall off a pushbike or a horse, you get right back on.

Her parents were surprised and she couldn’t explain to them. They thought maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend in Gallatin and wanted to return to him. Chief Davis was delighted. He needed new cops and a bit of hot ass like that around the station just made life a whole lot better.

It wasn’t long before she saw one of the Swamp Gang, Billy Pickess, with a young woman. They looked like a couple. Maybe he’d settled down. Forgive. He didn’t see her. She had plenty to do – fumbling thefts, drunken fights, domestic abuse, child abuse, traffic offences. She persuaded a drunk man with a shotgun to put it down and not kill his wife’s presumed lover or her.

She saw a couple more members of the gang. Donny Henderson saw her and looked away. Three days later, she was calming down two women having an argument, she saw one of them noticing something behind her, she turned round and there was Jeb Colson. He’d been leering at her ass, she knew it.

“Well, well – Mr Colson!” He grinned.

“Nice to be recognised. I can just about remember a coupla things about you, Callista.” The couple of things were body parts, of course, but it was him saying “Callista” that got to her, like he owned her.

“You’ll remember a good bit more if you get on the wrong side of the law.”

“Now there’s a sweet promise.” The argument between the two women started up again and she had to turn to deal with it, knowing Colson was getting off on her behind. When she looked around again, he’d gone.

She knew she must be careful. She would love to bust Colson and his buddies, but she must treat them just like any other suspects of illegal activity.

Two weeks later, it happened. Old Hahn reported Vietcong in his garden out to get him. That was the way he was, damaged by ‘Nam, but he had a big house with a big garden on the edge of the woods – near to where Callista was now living – and she reckoned it quite possible something was really happening in his garden that needed checking out.


This stupid bitch Suzy-Anne had told Mike Novak to go fuck himself. That was an affront to the honour of the whole gang. It was so not what some teen slut did in Gallatin, that I thought maybe she really was asking for it. Some sluts are turned on by a gang-bang, right? Billy had lured her to his pickup by saying he wanted to talk with her about her and Mike. He wasn’t lying, right? Nine of us assembled. We chose the old nut’s garden because it was big and overgrown and not too far out and if he heard anything and reported it, the cops were going to ignore it. The Vietcong watch him in the Walmart, right? We chose daytime in case she managed to make a run for it and we had to chase her.

Mike got first go on her, of course, and Jeb was just ready to follow him in when we were interrupted. It was Callista Greenwood. Two for the price of one, you might say, except for one thing – the gun pointed at Jeb. We could have rushed her, but she was going to plug Jeb for sure, shoot to kill, and maybe one or two more of us. We never carried guns: we didn’t need to. We could have done with one then. One little gun to send one little bullet up Officer Greenwood’s cunt. Of course, she got on her radio. I reckoned she wasn’t going to shoot me in the back and one or two of us were near to cover anyway. In the event, four of us escaped – me, Billy, Dave Bruno and our proof of not being racist, Micky Chan. Five got taken in, including Jeb and Brandon Colson and Mike Novak.

Billy got questioned, the rest of us not even that. Chief Davis wasn’t Robocop and I reckon they thought that if they nailed five of us, including the Colsons, the gang would be broken.

Me and Micky went to the preliminary hearing for Mike. Since he’d actually fucked the slut and the others were just waiting, I guess he was in line for worse punishment and he came up before the other four, who were being tried in a bunch. Same lawyers, though.

What happened was kind of surprising.

Mike’s lawyer was some blonde piece I wouldn’t have said no to fucking. She looked at Officer Greenfanny like she was something smelly she’d stepped on.

“Officer – run us through what happened to you on 23rd July 2014.”

“Sorry?” Blondie repeated what she said very slow, like to a small kid.

“23rd July? That…that was…Oh, God!” Blondie waited like a teacher trying to be patient. “I was…raped.”

“You claim you suffered a serious sexual assault? Is that right?”

“Yes.” The judge shifted in his seat like he was considering intervening, but didn’t.

“Do you see anyone involved in that alleged assault in the courtroom now?”

“The defendant, Michael Novak…” Then she saw me! “The defendant – and that man in the public gallery in the red jacket.” Now I had some big Black guy in front of me and it wasn’t hard for me to disappear.

“What man in a red jacket?”

“Over there…no, I can’t see him at the moment.”

“Never mind. So you believe my client sexually assaulted you five and a half years ago?”

“Yes.”

“You reported this assault, of course?”

“No. I was…”

“Thank you. You then left Gallatin?”

“Yes.”

“You became a police officer in Baltimore?”

“Yes.”

“Then you returned to Gallatin?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Rather odd, wasn’t it, if you had such a negative experience?”

“I wanted to overcome it.”

“You wanted revenge?”

“No.”

“Thank you, officer.”

Some Black chick called for the next witness, Suzy-Anne McCrea. The recently-raped one. They called her name three times. No show. The prosecutor looked real unhappy and said Ms McCrea hadn’t shown up, but she’d texted him saying she was held up in traffic. The judge asked when that was.

“Fifty minutes ago, Your Honour.”

“No message since, Mr Davidson?” No, there hadn’t been and yes, Mr Davidson had messaged her.

The case was dismissed. Dismissed! As Mike was led away, he looked hard at Officer Wiggles and smiled. She managed to look back until he was gone, but then right away burst out in tears. Laugh! I made sure she saw me too. The McCrea slut didn’t show, which is understandable because a few of the guys had made plain to her she’d do well to go and visit her uncle and aunt in California. The case against Jeb and the others was dismissed too.

The gang met round the Dizzy Dog Diner. Mike’s Pa owned the place and he made us a space away from folk who’d just walked in. The mood was good. The topic of conversation was Officer Callista Greenwood.

“That cold bitch got what she deserved,” I said.

“No,” said Jeb. “The shitbag deserves a lot more than that.”

“You mean…”

“Yeah.”


Now jumping a cop on duty isn’t easy. She has a gun. Nowadays, we’d heard, they have alarms too, just a button to press.

Jumping some slut who lives alone in a small house right on the edge of town with the woods, now – that isn’t hard at all.

Just a tad difficult that she worked shifts. It meant we had to keep an eye on her and then, when we knew she was going off duty, act that night. It took two weeks between deciding to rape her and the big night. We were eager, of course, but fact is, we enjoyed those two weeks because we were confident she was going to get it. It also gave us time to check out the house, like how to get in and whether anyone was likely to hear anything.

From the woods we could see her park her car, waddle up the path and in the front door. You could see a burglar alarm at the front and when she went in, there was a pause before sometimes you saw her moving around. So almost certainly there was a control just inside to turn it off. Two solutions: break in the back (weak back door, Micky did some scouting), run to the front, hope the alarm didn’t need a code or something. Or break in when she was inside. Micky said you could bust that back door without a lot of noise. Sounded good.

We held a planning meeting back at Dizzy Dog. Sue Pickess was there with Billy: she wanted to be in on it and Billy had OK’d it with Jeb. Made a list of stuff we’d need, or if not need, would like to have. Knife, rope, ball gag, strap, bullwhip, dildo (Sue’s contribution – just don’t know what she meant to do with that, laugh), gas. Dave Bruno had a handgun. Mike Novak had something to tell us.

“I checked this out with Jeb and he’s OK with it, but said to put it to the whole gang for agreement. There are two older guys who want a piece of her and would wear masks. I can guarantee they could both be useful.”

“Do you know who they are?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Does Jeb?” That was Billy.

“Yeah, but it’s not to go no further.” Brandon, Jeb’s brother, spoke. He never said much.

“If it’s OK with Jeb, it should be OK with us.” So we agreed. I was guessing one of them was Mike’s Pa, who was pretty close to the gang. No idea about the other. I was curious. Maybe I’d recognise the guy’s voice or something.

Action Day. The day Officer Callista Greenwood was going to learn a lot in a short time. The day she was going to learn what happened to people who tried to break the Swamp Gang.

We met up. Two older guys in masks. The one with a bit of a belly I reckoned was Ken Novak, but the small one was very quiet and I’d no idea who he was.

Her shift finished at 10 pm. We knew when she got home she usually put music on, so that should mask the sound of that crap back door breaking open. Brandon and the new recruit we called Willie the Kid were at the front to watch her go in. Music on. Light jazz. I broke in. Ten people crept in – the Gang, minus Brandon and Willie who’d be with us in a minute, plus Sue Pickess and the two guys in masks.

The sound of a shower! Figured. Long day, shower, relax a tad, bed. That timetable had changed, but she didn’t know it. I reckon most of us thought the idea of that bitch showering naked not knowing what was coming to her was pretty hot. Jeb took charge. Next to the bathroom was a big room, light on, and Officer Cunt’s uniform, socks, bra and panties were in a pile on a chair. Jeb moved them to a table. Cool panties – white with green polka dots and frilly edges. He put the chair under the light-bulb, turned the light off and removed the bulb. Then he put the chair back where it was. Brandon and Willie joined us. Twelve people waiting in the dark for one cunt.

The shower turned off. We waited. I understood Jeb’s thinking. Try to get her when she was wet from the shower and she could be difficult to hold. Sound of vigorous rubbing. Sound of door opening. Feet in some kind of shower shoes or flip flops padding across floor. Steps stop at the chair. Oh dear – the clothes aren’t there anymore.

“Shit!” said the Officer. She must be thinking, “I thought I put them on that chair, but I can’t have and the light’s gone. I’ll have to go and get a torch, or maybe the light from the next room will do the trick once I open the door.” Naked cunt padded across the floor and straight into Jeb.

She screamed. Now first time we raped her, she hadn’t screamed at all, so this was a welcome first. Mike had got right behind her – helps for your eyes to be in the dark a bit longer – and he held her fast while Jeb softened her up with a few punches. Then we pulled her into the next room, which was kitchen and diner combined. Dave put the light on. Now she could see who she was dealing with – and how many of us were there. I could see in her face she recognised it was hopeless.

Now we’d seen her naked before, but not like at leisure, and the view was good. Nice jugs, nice legs, great ass. Kinda enhanced by Jeb having bust her nose and her lips.

“Thought you could break us, bitch?” asked Jeb. “Thought you could send Swamp Gang guys to jail? DID YOU? Answer me!” He slapped her face hard one way, knocking her head round. For balance, he slapped her hard on the other side. A couple more for completeness.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into now,” she said. Jeb grinned.

“Yes we do – we’re getting into you! Haven’t had this cunt and asshole for a while now, what’ve they been doing to keep themselves occupied?” She was breathing heavily, which made her jugs move real nice. “Ethan,” said Jeb, “go get her handcuffs from her stuff and anything else that could be useful. Hey – bring her panties too.”

I brought back cuffs, spray, baton, gun and panties. Didn’t figure we had any need of the taser.

“Now Ethan is a thorough guy,” said Jeb. “I’m sure we’ll use all of these, but the cuffs come first.” So soon she was cuffed behind her back with her own cuffs.

Blood dripped from her nose on to her tits. Jug and jam. Looked tasty. Both the mystery guys were eyeing her up and the small one squeezed a chunk of ass-cheek.

“We’ll get her over that table,” said Jeb. “Coupla cushions under her belly to make her ass stick up.” There was no mystery about why he wanted that. Two guys to hold her in position, Billy and Micky. What was a surprise, he gave Sue the strap for first go. She sure seemed pleased. Lined up her big, round, quivering target, then:
Smack, scream! There are screams and screams. This one was a how-dare-you kind of scream, which was a good laugh. Smack, scream, smack, scream, smack, scream and good red marks were coming up on Officer Cleancunt’s ass.

“You got more strength than me,” said Sue, handing the strap over to Jeb. Well, she had that right. Seemed like he had something personal against the officer’s ass. And her cunt too. Seemed like she didn’t like it. Tough.

All of us got a go with the strap and it was sweet. I felt I was really showing that bitch who was boss and what her ass was made for. She was wailing and writhing and bucking and screaming. Mike Novak gave her a particularly hard time, but so did the small mystery man, who seemed like he was used to using the strap.

That was just a little foreplay. Next came the bullwhip. Not all of us were confident to use it and you needed plenty muscles. It came down to Jeb, Brandon, Mike, me, Dave and the guy I reckoned was Mike’s Pa. Jeb first, of course. Now the bullwhip does a lot of damage, but accuracy ain’t its strong point unless you’re very good and the subject stays still. Billy and Micky needed to trust whoever was doing the whipping if they were to hold the bitch fast. They trusted Jeb.

They were right to. He showed the bitch what she was going to get and she said “Please”, nice and polite like a good little girl, only I think she meant “Please don’t”, which was kind of spoilsport. He cracked the whip a coupla times for practice, or maybe to give her plenty of fear from the sound. Then he gave it to her. What a yell! You might have thought we were killing her a bit prematurely. Jeez, he gave it to her. Goddam meat-processing, it was. Then it was Brandon’s go. The quiet brother. Well, he had ways of making noise – the crack of the whip and the scream of the slut. If anything, he put more force into it than his brother. Then Mike. For him it was kinda more personal because of that court scene.

It was Mike who targeted her cunt. Now that needed skill. He had it. Six goddam sizzling bullseyes! How could I improve on that? Well, that round, bouncy, quivering, bleeding ass still needed some more and I managed to get a couple right up her ass-crack. Not Mike, not Jeb had managed that. Then something different. Round the other side. She knew that meant something bad, but face or tits? I got the lads to rearrange her a bit. Tits. Three on each. Shit, did she wail! Made a mess of them, too. Hey, how did a slut with messy jugs like that get to be a law officer?

Now Dave. But Micky and Billy said their arms were tired from holding her, so we had a change-over. Willie the Kid and Sue took over holding her down. Maybe Dave was the least skilled or maybe he didn’t much mind where they landed. At least he didn’t hit Willie or Sue, but maybe from making sure he didn’t, he landed a few on her thighs. Hey, they needed some treatment.

Last was the guy I reckoned was Pa Novak. He started by smacking her ass. Now at the start of her treatment, that wouldn’t have been no big deal, but by now, her ass was raw and sore and super-sensitive. He flexed the whip.

“This is for trying to nail my son,” he said, under his breath. So I was right. Just one mystery to go and that one I had no idea about.

She got a pretty good going over from old Novak. When he’d finished with her ass, like me, he came round to the front. He eyed her up, kind of thoughtfully. That unnerved her. Something in his eyes.

“Please, no, no more, no, please, not my breasts, please, anything,” she said. Kind of didn’t make sense.

“Sure,” he said, and gave it to her in the face. The bitch’s face was already messed up, but that took it to another level. I was reckoning he’d give her another and pop her eye out and he must have read my mind.

“No, I want her to see what’s happening her all the way,” he said. That was the end of the whipping.

It was Willie the Kid who asked it. That kid has nerve. One day Jeb will have a successor.

“Is this lump of shit worth screwing or not?” Jeb smiled.

“It has a cunt and an asshole, Kid – so yes. Put the ball-gag in her: we’ve heard the screams. Ladies first.” So the bitch got the dildo up her cunt. Reckon most likely it was the first time she’d had one of them up her. Bitch was living in another century. Sue didn’t bother to strap it on, just hammered it up with her shoe. Hammered it in so far, she had trouble getting it out. Jeb was next, of course, but he got us in order as he wanted: him, Mike, Brandon, Mystery Man, Billy, me, Willie, Pa Novak, Dave, Micky, Mac, Donny. If anyone didn’t hammer her ass-hole as well as her cunt, I don’t rightly remember. Her cunt wasn’t as tight as I remembered from a few years back, probably because of how many guys had just fucked it. Then Mike had a second thought and got her gun. Checked it was loaded. Then made her suck prick at gunpoint. A few more of us followed, but I can’t say she put much enthusiasm into the sucking. Cold bitch.

Finally, finished. Time to finish her off. Or maybe something more first.

“Let’s have the knife,” said Jeb. “See this, cop slut? It’s real sharp. What do you think we’re going to do with it? No reply – the ball gag was still in. He popped it out. He brought the knife close to her eye. Then he handed it to Pa Novak. “First cut for you.” The old man took a grip on her left jug and sliced off the end – aureole, they call it? He smiled and put it in his pocket. “Sue?” Jeb prompted. She didn’t need encouraging. Off came the other tit-end. The cop bitch was wailing like some animal and her eyes said, “I still can’t believe people are like this”. Jeb sliced off one shell-like ear. Mike took the other.

“Give it to me – I can do something special,” said Micky. Well, I’ve never seen nothing like it. Was that really the first time he’d taken a cunt scalp? The bitch didn’t like it, but we held her down tight and there weren’t nothing she could do about it. Micky held it up for us all to see. Would have been amusing to have let her live, minus tit-ends, ears and cunt surround.

“We’re gonna kill you now, bitch,” Mike told her, conversational like. “How’d you like us to do it?” No reply. “I asked you, bitch!”

“Please don’t.” He spat in her face.

“She had a chance to choose. She didn’t take it.”

“Waal, ain’t that regrettable,” said Jeb. “Anyone else got ideas how to do it?” Seemed like there were three popular options. Pour gas on her and burn her, shove her gun up her cunt and shoot her, or stamp on her neck. We kinda wished we could do all three. We could, but she’d be dead.

Well, what’s a leader for?

“We can burn the cunt after she’s dead,” Jeb said. “Lie her on the floor. Shove her gun right up her cunt. I stand over her neck ready to stamp.”

“I want the gun to put up her cunt,” said the small mystery man. I recognised the voice. Chief Davis. Hell. Was this just because he’d wanted her cunt ever since she’d turned up and she hadn’t opened her legs for him? Or had she found out something about him? There were rumours.

“Sure,” said Jeb. Seemed like Chief Davis enjoyed it. We all waited. I suppose Cunt Greenwood waited. Chief Davis jammed her own gun right up her. Jeb stood over her with his boot raised to squash her neat little neck.

“Now!” he said. The Chief fired (the shot was kind of muffled, don’t know why). The bitch jerked. Jeb stamped on her neck. Stamped six times till it wasn’t hardly recognisable as a neck. The bitch was dead by then.

We had a quick look for stuff we could take. “Nothing easily identifiable”, said the man I knew was Chief Davis. Still, we got her cool watch, expensive camera, music system and $76 in cash, plus a kind of commemorative medal, one pair of the slut’s panties each. Then pour out the paraffin in a few good places, including on the dead bitch, set light to it and get the hell out.

Cops picked up old Hahn in the garden yelling about the Cong. Seemed like he’d taken her for Cong, shot her and burnt her. He was unfit to plead. We had some real good memories and her cunt scalp.




 

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