"Who said you were allowed this cracker?"
Margo's lips were moving before her brain even registered the question. "Well...uh...I...uh...mostly.. m...my genetics. I do...um..s-s-sports... ran track....swam....crew t-t-teaam," her sentence ended in another high pitch squeal as a different hand struck her left cheek. It was the short man, smiling from ear to ear.
"Typical white bitch. Thinks she can have anything she wants," the lanky thug commented as he massaged her breasts. "These titties are nice and firm gurl. Daddy buy you them?"
Margo tried to choke in another sob as invading hands explored every inch at her. "No sir. My breasts are real," she explained in a near whisper. Fattie shook his head, clearly not convinced.
"Going have to see for myself," the chubby thug stated as he ripped the bra off her body.
His surprise invasion startled Mar, she rose to her tip toes and shrieked again. Her breasts jiggled and bounced, the pink nipples freed from the restrictive bra, again pleasing the men.
"Shit son, we haven't even fucked this slut yet and she already shrieking," the fat man said between licks of her left breast. Margo slightly shifted her body away from the thug's invading tongue, but it just raised the right breast invitingly to the angrier thug.
" All white cunts are like that," the shaded thug explained as if he was an expert. " These assholes think they're untouchable and their shit don't stank. Isn't that true, baby?" he asked before biting on her right nipple.
Margo gasped, in pain and slight pleasure, from his bite. Her stomach turned again as her mind raced for an answer to the question. She could answer honestly and risk angering the thug by disagreeing. On the other hand, agreeing would supply him with more hateful lies. There was no right answer and the thug knew it.
"Whatever you say," she pleaded as ten sets of hands tugged her around, treating the coed as if she was a rag doll. "Please, I beg you, don't kill me. I'm only twenty years old."
D'Marcus scoffed as he walked over to the stereo. "You wanna live to see twenty one?" he threatened while turning the volume up. "Shake that pudgy, pale ass."
The gang members collapsed onto nearby the sofas and chairs as a bass line poured out of the speakers. They all sat their laughing and passing a blunt. It was in that moment Margo truly understood the situation. These men were monsters. They didn't see her as another human being, but just a fun, little distraction. She was meat to starving animals and they wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in her head. If she wanted to make it out of this room alive, she'd have to be everything they wanted.
Margo was a survivor. She'd give them everything they could imagine and more. They'd never know what hit them.
Mar wiped a tear from her eye and started to wiggle her full ass to the pulsating beat.
Time for some real community service.
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