"Yaghghhghghhhhh!"

"Hey, man, somebody's gonna hear her," Joe said, looking nervously through the dirt-stained garage window.

"Naw. Ain't nobody around here. Garage's too far back."

But Jack stopped the whipping, drawing one hand across his sweat-dripping forehead and throwing the antenna to the floor. Betti lay panting atop the car, her body whip-striped, her cunt pulled open, her tits chewed and pinched by the awful clamps.

"Let's fuck the bitch! She's gonna have that cock now. I think I've warmed her up enough," Jack said.

Betti wasn't so hysterical that she couldn't understand what they were going to do with her. She felt Joe fiddling with the rope around her right ankle.

I'll kick them both, she thought to herself with a grim smile. I'll smash their balls when I get the chance.

She was pretending to be completely limp while Jack slipped the rope from around her left ankle. She readied herself, tensing her muscles ever so slightly as the pulleys started pulling her down from the car's roof.

"Watch it! The bitch is feisty!" Jack warned. Betti managed to drive one foot into Joe's face before Jack pulled her down roughly to the gage floor, purposely crashing her skull against the door handle of his Mustang. Betti crumpled to the floor, one arm draped over her head while her legs flew out from under her and she skidded halfway under the car. She felt Jack's boots crushing her knuckles as he moved around, reaching for her arms and dragging her out from under the car.

"Stupid bitch! Thought you could get away with something like that? Where the fuck did you think I came from anyway?" Jack snarled, shaking her violently.

Joe was picking himself up, rubbing the back of his neck while staring angrily at the hapless Betti.

"I tell you, it don't do no good bein' nice to a slut like this," Jack snarled.