"Uhhhhhhhhh!"

"Fuckin' bitch-pig. You want it bad, man. Saw you lookin' at my cock all the time while you was up there blabbin' about the Civil War and shit."

"No, not true. You're lying!" Susan screamed.

"Sure, baby. Everybody talks about the way you eye a guy's crotch. Guys around school figured you wanted to get fucked by somebody, but were afraid to ask. Now you're gonna get all the cockmeat you can handle maybe even more."

"No, no!"

Susan shook, the thought from her mind, concentrating now on the slashing pain across her right, cheek. Another blow, this one hammering against her nose, took her breath away. A third slashed against her right tit, making her feel as if the teen were going to flay the flesh from her inch by throbbing inch.

"Stop this! Oh please, please," Susan begged, her words melting into defeated sobs.

"Yeah, right."

Susan writhed from the pain of the belting blows. She felt the warm sticky sweetness of her perspiration rolling down her tits. Her navel filled with the sweat, then overflowed. For a moment the frantic woman could feel the perspiration oozing maddeningly slowly through her itching cuntal forest. She moved her legs until they were folded together once more. Only this time she began undulating her thighs against one another, loving the smooth and yet itchy rub of one cunt labe against the other.

"Uhhhhh!"

Clint stared hotly at her, licking his lips. The twisting, hanging body in front of him aroused more lewdness in both him and Jack. He moved closer to Susan and the woman moved her right foot around experimentally. She thought if he walked a little bit closer to her she could kick his crotch. That would show those bastards!