The Stolen Girl Read Online Free PDF

the open air, and I saw her nipples harden and contract from the cool breeze.
    The man stood up and his hands swung down to that chain that wrapped around his waist. With a clink, the links parted in the front, and the man yanked out his own penis. He shoved the erect rod forward at the girl, and her eyes rolled around to focus on it. Submissively, she opened up her mouth, and the wiry man grabbed at her head and forced her down onto his knob. She made a gagging noise as he crammed her head down as far as it would go, but she didn’t make any sort of effort to fight back. I pulled my eyes away in revulsion.
    Behind me, Roads had been doing something inside the motel room, but he now stepped out behind me, and I felt his hand on my shoulder once again, steadying me. “That’s Biggie and Chainz,” he commented, as his hand gently guided me further away, past the horrifying sight. “Guys, wrap it up. We need to hit the road.”
    “Hey!” Chainz complained. “We payed this bitch for a full hour, and I haven’t even gotten my turn yet!”
    “Not my problem,” Roads responded. His voice was still level, but I could hear the slightest hint of a rumble deep in his tone, threatening to rise up if he kept on getting back talk. “You should have thought about that before paying her. Besides, if you payed her for a full hour, what are you going to do for the other fifty minutes!”
    This sounded like an insult, and for a second, I saw Chainz’s eyebrows narrow and his lips pull back in a snarl. The expression was only there for a second, however, and he relaxed into that wolfish grin. “Well, I can always grab another bitch at our main haunt,” he said, and his hand relaxed its grip on the teenager’s head as she squatted in front of him. She pulled back immediately, once again gasping for air as his cock came out of her mouth. Still smiling, Chainz reached forward and planted both of his hands on her naked chest, squeezing tightly at her tits. “I’ll be back, babe,” he said in a half-whisper, leaning forward to speak into her ear. “And when I get back, you’re gonna be doing a lot more than giving me head!”
    Roads kept up the gentle pressure on my shoulder, and we walked out further, towards the parking lot. In the spots in front of our motel room, I could see a bunch of motorcycles, parked close to each other in unsteady rows. “Our chariots,” Roads announced, and I swore that I could her the slightest bit of self-depreciating humor in his voice.
    “Good, you got our little kitty out.”
    I knew that voice, and couldn’t hold back a shudder. I turned as Slammer came striding up, two other bikers close behind him. Trying vainly to suppress the shudder of fear running through me as he approached, I focused instead on inspecting the other two bikers.
    The man on Slammer’s right was short but muscled, and he looked like he spent a lot of time in a gym. His hair was buzzed short, vaguely reminiscent of a military haircut. He wore a pair of glasses on his face, which made him seem a little bit nerdier than the other bikers. Judging by how his arms bulged with rolling muscles beneath his jacket sleeves, however, I didn’t doubt that he could pound anyone who called him a “nerd” or “geek” into the pavement with relative ease. He gave me a quick once-over, but didn’t seem particularly interested in me one way or the other. Instead, I caught him turning around and glancing out at the road several times, a nervous expression on his face. Perhaps he was starting to understand just how much trouble they were getting themselves into, kidnapping a senator’s daughter.
    The person on Slammer’s left was definitely a biker, but she was also definitely a woman! The woman had bright reddish-orange hair, cut short and swept across her head. Her face had a few hard lines on it, and she wore a scowl, but she still had an angular sort of attractiveness. More than that, however, she seemed to exude an air of barely