"Like to spy on girls, huh? You wanna get fucked, baby? Is that it? Is that why you came out here all decked out like this? To get some cock?"

"No, no, that's not true!" she protested.

Jack looked at her thoughtfully, then shook his head.

"That's not what I think, baby. I can see fuckin' written all over your damned face. You want cock, and that's lust what you're gonna get."

"No! Oh Joe, help me! Don't let him do this to me!" Jack struggled with her, slapping her several times until Betti finally stopped her wild screaming. The harsh blows across her face took some of the fight from her as she struggled to stay conscious, her tits flopping madly against one another. With one back-handed blow, Jack knocked her half senseless across the hood of his car, pushing her up against the windshield and leaving her there for a moment. Ordering Joe to keep an eye on her, he swaggered over to the work bench, pulling open the center wooden drawer and fishing around for a moment or two before returning with four C-clamps.

Betti felt the windshield wipers cutting into her back flesh. She started to prop herself on her elbows and received a sharp blow across the face for that effort. When she tried rolling to the right she felt Jack's hands grabbing her shoulders, pulling her up, up, until he had her stretched out on the roof of his car. It was so odd lying like this, her feet dangling over the back while her spine pressed against the cold top. He pulled her back a little, and her blonde hair fanned over the windshield as he climbed up to the top and crawled around until he was kneeling on her shoulders.

His weight made the girl err out, snapping her head from side to aide. Peering up through tear-stained eyes, Betti could see his prick was hard, pressing up against the front of his Levi's until she thought the cockhead would burst right through the stretched material Jack took one of the clamps and tightened the screw until there was only half an inch opened. Bringing his hands down, he slipped the device over her right nipple, twisting the screw once more until it was crushing the nub in its grip.