Let's Make a Deal "Just keep your shit together and your mouth shut, okay?" Justin looks sharply at Matt, his voice far calmer than he feels. "Easy as pie-we go in, we make the deal, we leave." "Are you scared?" Matt's eyes dart toward the warehouse, his fingers tapping nervously on the dash. "Fuck, no!" At nineteen, Justin knows just enough about selling drugs to be dangerous . . . to himself, his friends. His knowledge comes from movies, TV shows, rap songs. But opportunity had knocked in the form of a backpack left in the bus station bathroom, a bag full of neat, powder-filled packages. He wasn't about to pass up the chance to make a hefty bit of cash. "But it's not our shit." Matt is younger, not so brave, but perhaps smarter where it counts. "We should have just left it, we shouldn't have-" "Shut the fuck up, okay? No way this is going to go any way but good." Justin glares, turns off the headlights, pulls the keys out of the ignition. "Hey, you don't want in, just say so, you can fucking leave." "No, man-I'm in, I'm not letting you go in alone." "Good job," Justin smiles, far more relieved than he would ever let on, "but she stays out here, okay?" He looks back at Lydia, Matt's sister. She was the one who actually found the backpack. She's also just 13, hot though she may be. "Absolutely," Matt nods vehemently, "she shouldn't even be here at all." "I found it!" Lydia's voice is small, petulant, her blue eyes bright in the lamplight, blond hair shining even in the pale light. "Yeah, and you shouldn't be here." "So let's see it." Johnny Arviso--Vito to his friends--leans back, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrow. That the fucking punks would dare steal the pack from the bathroom is bad enough-that they would be stupid enough to try to sell it BACK to him is nigh on ridiculous. He watches Justin lay the pack on the plain steel table, fumble with the zipper. Kid is clueless, his every move, every word proclaims it. This is going to be an absolute pleasure. Justin takes a deep breath, opens the pack, pulling the flap down to reveal the packages, fat with heroin. He looks at Matt, swipes the sweat from his upper lip. Matt looks down, hands in his jacket pockets. Justin nods, looks up, unblinking. "How much is there?" Vito nods to his brother. "Manny?" Manny reaches forward, gloved hands pulling the packages out, lining them up. "There's-there's 20 packages." Justin's voice cracks, he curses his nervousness. "But how much is there?" Vito speaks slowly, as if to a dull child. "A gram, a key? How much?" "I-I don't know." "You don't know?" Vito's tone is light, his expression amused. "You don't know-I thought you said you bought this shit. You didn't weigh it?" He laughs at Justin's foot shuffling, eye darting, motioning for his case. A third man steps forward, and Vito stifles a laugh at the visible jump from Justin and Matt. "This is Abie-he is my best friend. Much as-" he nods toward Matt, "much as he is yours, I am assuming." Justin nods mutely, watches as Vito opens the case, pulls out a scale. "Now we discover the worth of your merchandise." Justin and Matt watch, fascinated, as Vito opens each package, takes a small sample before placing it on the scale. His motions are slow, deliberate, though he knows neither boy has the smarts to lighten the packages, cut the product. It's all a part of the game, of wasting time. "Mmm," Vito nods as he weighs the last package, "very nice, very nice." "How much is it worth?" Justin's voice is tight, excited, "What will you give me?" "Ahhh," laughter, Vito smiling broadly, "I will give you . . . nothing." "W-what?" "Why should I give you anything? You bring my OWN product to me, after STEALING it from me, and you think I should pay?" Vito's tone is low now, dangerous, his eyes smoldering. "I give you-your life, and the life of your friend. It is a very good offer, boy, I suggest you take it." Justin stares, shocked, then angry-this has gone very wrong very quickly, and he's not about to let it all slip through his fingers. Reaching into his jacket, he pulls out his father's Ruger Mark II, aims it shakily. "What is that?" Vito laughs harshly, his eyes incredulous, "Is that supposed to be a gun? That-that pea-shooter is supposed to frighten me?" He reaches into his belt, brings out a 44. "This is a gun, you stupid fuck," he points it at Matt, "want to put it to the test? You pull your trigger, I'll pull mine." "Oh, fuck, Justin!" Matt's eyes are huge, head shaking in terror, "just put it down, put it the fuck down!" "N-no, bullshit!" Justin's voice is trembling, weak, his hand shaking violently as he keeps his gun trained on Vito, "He's bluffing, he's fucking bluffing." He stares at Vito, tries to steady his voice, "Just give me the shit and we'll go, nobody gets hurt." "No." Vito gives a wide, winning smile, "You had your chance to walk away, and you chose instead to pull a gun on me. Now somebody gets hurt." Nodding, Vito gestures toward the door. "M-Matt?" Lydia's voice, high, terrified. Matt and Justin turn toward her voice, stunned as she is dragged in, her hands bound tightly behind her. "M-Mattie, please . . .?" "Somebody gets hurt." Vito's voice snaps Justin back, "Her, if you wish. Just keep holding that gun and she gets hurt very badly." "Put it the fuck down, Justin!" Matt is panicked, enraged. "Put it DOWN!" Vito smiles, grabs Lydia, presses the gun against her face. "So pretty, so pretty," he traces her cheek with the barrel, pushing it against her pink lips, forcing it into her mouth, "do you think she'll still be pretty with a new hole in her head?" Justin strains, his hands bound securely to the iron beam behind him. His shouts are muffled, a filthy rag jammed into his mouth, held in place by his own belt. The sound of Lydia's sobs compete with Matt's whispered pleas. Justin stares, horrified as Matt is shoved to his knees, his eyes pleading as Vito steps before him, unzipping his trousers. "Please no, please-" Matt's appeal is cut short, cruel thumbs ground into his cheeks, forcing his jaws wide. His voice is muffled, his cries turned to gagging moans as his face is filled, the rigid tool pushing relentlessly into his protesting throat. Matt's eyes are wide, horrified as Vito begins thrusting hard, filling his throat, choking him with his thick meat. Matt struggles to breathe between strokes, tears flowing as Manny kneels behind him, pops the buttons on his jeans effortlessly. Matt's knees scrape painfully as he struggles to escape the prodding, pressing tool against his ass. Justin's struggles become frantic as Matt's cries become shrill, agonized. He watches, sickly fascinated as Manny's huge cock slowly disappears in Matt's jerking ass. The cruel thrusts begin, shaking Matt, slamming him forward against Vito, forcing the cock in his face deeper. Justin closes his eyes against the sight, but can't block out the sounds of Matt's screams, his pained groans cut off in gagging strokes. Lydia watches the rape of her brother, her breath coming in sick sobs, her eyes locked on his torture. It's her fault, she knows-if only she hadn't taken the backpack, if she'd just given it to Matt instead of Justin! She should have called the cops as soon as she opened it, saw what was inside. But stupid greed, that idiotic teenage sense of invulnerability had led her, led all of them. Her sobs deepen as Matt's struggles become frantic, a sick gurgling coming from his mouth as Vito ejaculates, holding Matt's head down close as he fills his mouth, his throat with thick, sour cum. Matt gags, sputters, his throat working desperately around Vito's tool, swallowing sickly as his throat is flooded again and again with waves of spunk. His belly rebels, he retches weakly, body still shaking with the ripping rape of his asshole, the hard, pounding thrusts. He groans, grunts with each stroke, falling forward as Vito releases him. His eyes stare dully at Vito's feet as Manny begins to moan, his cock swelling, jumping in Matt's bleeding ass. With a shout, Manny slams forward viciously, forcing Matt to his belly on the cold floor as his cock explodes, filling the boy's bleeding hole with his cum. Justin shudders, eyes fixed on Matt's pale face. He sees the cum trickling from his friends mouth, nose, tears streaming from his whining face. His mind races-he'll do anything, anything to avoid being raped, being used. He'd rather die. "Does it hurt?" Vito's tone is light, mocking as he pulls Matt's head up by the hair. "Please . . ." Matt whimpers, his eyes glassy, tear-filled. He trembles violently, ass ringing, belly cramping from the rape. He feels the pink-tinged cum running from him, moans. "Please?" Vito looks over at Abie. "I think he's in pain, should we give him something?" Vito laughs as Abie approaches, a syringe in hand. "This will help you feel better." Vito smiles as Matt struggles weakly, held down by Manny. The needle disappears into the vein, and Matt's straining weakens, then stops. "There, isn't that better?" Vito strokes Matt's sweating face, nods at the vacant expression, the thick moans. Lydia screams shrilly, her feet scraping at the cement as she struggles to scoot back, away. Abie's hand snakes out, grabs her hair, jerking her forward. Lydia thrashes, kicks violently, squealing as her shirt is ripped open, her skirt torn from her hips. Abie lifts her, an arm around her twisting waist, drags her to the table. Throwing her back, he grasps her legs, hikes them over his shoulders, trapping her on her back. He chews his gum evenly, smiling slightly as he reaches down, yanks her lace panties to the side. "How old are you, whore?" His voice is husky, low as his hand moves across her belly, grasps her lacey bra. "How old?" He gives a hard tug, laughs as the material gives, revealing her small, round breasts. "HOW FUCKING OLD?" He leans forward, grabs her hair, jerking her head up, "ANSWER ME!" "Th-thirteen!" Lydia sobs, legs kicking helplessly over his shoulders, her chest working side to side as he paws her breasts, squeezing, pinching her pink nipples. "Mmmm, sweet." Abie leans further forward, forcing her legs down, back. Grasping the base of his cock, he rubs her pussy lips roughly, parting her, baring her virgin hole. Lydia begins screaming again, her cries cut off as he thrusts cruelly into her, shredding her hymen with one vicious stroke. "Nice, baby girl, nice," Abie's voice is breathy, he pants as he slams into her, his rhythm fast, furious. He captures a small, bouncing breast, begins sucking, moaning at how the whole thing fits in his mouth. "Little girl, little girl," he breathes, moving to her other breast, "I love a sweet little girl." He puts his full weight on her, grinding her against the cold metal as he traps her head, begins kissing her obscenely, his tongue pushing into her resisting mouth. Justin watches intently, his cock stiffening as Abie slams mercilessly into Lydia's bleeding pussy. This is a nightmare-and he is more aroused than he's ever been. He listens to her squeaking sobs, her gasps and grunts, watches her little body squirming under the big man. He wishes he were one of them. Matt groans, his eyes rolling, his mind only somewhat aware of what's happening. He struggles to rise, his bloody thighs straining as he tries to get his legs under him. He falls, tries again, then collapses weakly, his baby sister's cries filling his ears. Lydia writhes helplessly under Abie's thrusting body, her eyes wide, her voice hoarse from screaming, sobbing. She begins to whine in horror as his panting turns to moans, his hips grinding unevenly, cock swelling inside her battered pussy. She squeals raspily, knowing, knowing he's about to cum inside her. She may be inexperienced, but she knows how to get pregnant. Abie shouts, his hips slamming down, pinning her as his cock explodes. He groans, biting her breasts cruelly as he fills her, his cum flooding her, hot and thick. He shudders, continues fucking his spunk deep, relishing in her whines, her sick pleas. He collapses on her as his softening cock slips from her torn pussy, releasing a flow of pink to trickle across her ass. He glances up as Manny approaches, grasps her elbow, the needle sliding in with smooth professionalism as she gasps beneath him. Abie watches her face, smiling as her expression softens, her eyes glaze, whines turned to soft whimpers under him. Vito smiles grimly as he approaches Justin, nodding at the boy's increasing fear. Crouching before him, he removes the gag, reaches for his hair, then stops, spying the boys huge erection. "Oh, my." Vito stands, laughing, "Look at this!" The men surround Justin, laughing at the solid, well-defined bulge in the boy's jeans. "You want your friend's baby sister, do you?" Vito bends again, his voice smooth, "You want to slide your cock into her tight little pussy, fuck her while she cries?" Justin looks away, ashamed, sickly hopeful. "He does," Abie laughs, razzing, "look at him, fucker is dying to bang her." Vito grabs Justin, drags him to his feet. "Come on, cabrone, let's see what you've got." Pulling him to the table, he steps behind, frees his hands. Justin stands, trembling, stares down at Lydia's trembling body, her torn clothing. "W-what do you want me to do?" "No, no-it's what YOU want to do! Come on, give the little bitch what you think she deserves, do her like you've wanted to." Nodding, Justin grasps Lydia's legs, flips her onto her belly. Pulling back, he drapes her over the edge of the table, his hands grasping her ass cheeks, spreading them apart. His eyes are bright, glazed, he stares at Lydia's face as she begins whimpering weakly. He grabs his cock, begins pushing relentlessly against her tight rectum, nearly climaxing as he pushes past the ring, her whimpers turning to sick cries, dog-like whines. Justin breathes deeply, eyes focused on her face, the dull, drugged pain, the sweet, bow-shaped lips pulling back as she cries. He begins moving slowly, savoring the clenching, spasming of her ass around his tool. "J-Jesus, Justin, n-no . . ." Matt's voice, thick, words slurred, his dilated eyes wide as he watches his friend rape his sister. He struggles to rise, but the heavy weight of his limbs defies his efforts. He sinks back down, crying. Justin freezes, looks over at Matt, then away. He closes his eyes, begins slamming into Lydia, his fingers digging into her slender hips, his cock tearing her as he thrusts harder, harder. Lydia whines, grunts dazedly as Justin rams into her, her hips slamming painfully against the hard edge of the steel table. Her eyes stare dully into the dark of the warehouse, her legs trembling, kicking weakly in the air above the floor. She whines as Justin grabs her bound hands, pulls back, lifting her chest up off the table. Her head shakes weakly, small breasts jiggling with each thrust. Vito laughs huskily, his eyes narrow, considering as Justin's heavy breathing hitches, becomes uneven. The boy pulls out, hands roughly pulling Lydia around, flipping her, dragging her head over the edge. Cruel fingers grinding her mouth wide, her slack lips stretching around his rigid tool. Justin begins thrusting into her face excitedly, his hips jerking, slamming her head back, wrenching her neck painfully. Lydia gags helplessly, her throat working in sick desperation as he slams deep, cutting off her air. The men's laughter becomes raucous, appreciative as Justin shouts, his cock swelling, spewing his sour cum into her face, her throat. Lydia swallows painfully, unwillingly, her throat constricting, milking the spunk from him. Justin nods numbly, his expression sickly hopeful as Vito pushes the white packet across the table. He tunes out the sound of Matt sobbing, the gagging, choking noises as Lydia's head is forced down on her brother's cock. He concentrates on Vito, his words. "Repeat it back to me." Vito's voice is sharp, impatient. "I-I go to 1158 River Street," Justin's voice shakes, his hands closing over the plastic of the package, "I go and I give it to D.J." "And?" "A-and then I take the money to you, I-" Justin swallows hard, reaches for the cell phone laying before him, "I call you, you tell me where to bring it." "And if any money is missing?" "There-there won't be!" "And why won't there be?" "B-because you'll . . . " Justin takes a shuddering breath, looks up, eyes wide, "you'll kill me." "Very good." Vito pushes away from the table, glancing amusedly at the sound of Lydia sputtering, sobbing. "And what if anyone asks about them?" Justin looks at Matt, Lydia, flinching as Abie kneels, another syringe in hand. "I haven't seen them," he whispers, nodding, "I haven't seen them since I dropped them off at the mall." Vito smiles, reaches to clap Justin on the shoulder, "That's right." "W-what are you going to do to them?" "I told you," Vito's voice is silky, dangerous, "you pay your way, they pay theirs-give them a week and they'll be begging to fuck, suck, do whatever they have to do to get a fix." Justin stands, sweating, shaking as Matt and Lydia are dragged out of the dark warehouse, their mumbled pleas echoing in his ears. He reaches for the heroin, slips it in his pocket, grasps the cell phone in a trembling hand. Nodding, he walks to his car unscathed. "I can live with that," he whispers, turning the key, "I can live with that."
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