Trucebreaker by The_Technician
Trucebreaker by The_Technician ,Introduction: Introduction: Five gangs come up with a unique way to create and enforce a truce. But what happens when someone breaks that truce and your sister is the one who will bear the brunt of the punishment needed to restore peace? ,
This story gets into pretty intense non-consensual (apparently) blow jobs, gang bangs, anal sex, three male on one female sex, forced (apparently) female-female oral sex, spanking, electro-sex, forced orgasms, and punishment spankings. If this is not your cup of tea, don’t read this story.
The first two sections– Prologue 01 & Prologue 02– are pretty slow and are primarily there to set up Felicia’s story, which is told in Chapters 01 through 04. Her story makes a lot more sense if you read the prologues, but if you want just the heavy sex stuff, skip to the first chapter.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2019 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Prologue 01: The Truce is Made
Carlo Benito didn’t want to make the truce, but something had to be done to stop the killing. The five gangs were dropping each other’s members on an almost daily basis and the cops didn’t seem to care. One of the West Forty-Nines said that he had solid information that the cops were waiting for them to kill each other off before they stepped in and took down the winner.
A truce was absolutely necessary, and this time it had to be a truce that could be enforced. There had been truces before between some of the gangs, but they had only lasted a few months, or even just a few weeks. This had to be a truce that held and it had to be a truce among all five gangs.
The leaders of the five gangs met at a neutral spot, a church located more or less at the intersection of the gangs’ territories. One of the priests there had helped negotiate the meeting. It didn’t take long to work out the details of a truce. Boundaries were already set.
The five areas were culturally different. So, as much of an issue as that might be in other parts of the city, it wasn’t here. This wasn’t a war about territory, at least not as in territory under solid control where the people living there owed allegiance to a particular gang. This war was about illicit business. This was a war over where you could sell your product, whatever it was. There was also concern about being able to move through each others’ areas without triggering conflict.
After many hours of discussion, an agreement was reached on exact boundaries; on free passage through each others’ territories; and most importantly, that none of the five would do anything or make any sales within the other gangs’ territories.
That simple agreement would bring peace. The problem was that none of the gang leaders trusted each other. Emmanuel Gomez, from the North Thirties said that he wouldn’t believe the others were sincere unless they swore on their mothers’ graves.
“My mother’s still alive,” Carlo responded angrily. “You will just have to take my word at face value.”
The response to that was laughter from the other four gang chiefs. Then one of them– Juanita from the Brookman Queens– said, “Then, maybe you should swear on your sister.”
“What the hell does that mean?” growled Rick, head of the skinhead gang that called themselves “The Righteous Ones.”
“We all have sisters,” Juanita said firmly. “… sisters that we have kept out of the action.” She looked around the table and said, “What if our little sisters were the guarantee of the truce. If you break the truce, your sister gets punished by whichever of us was wronged.”
She looked around the room and said, “And all of us make sure that the guarantor is turned over as promised… or it is four against one when the truce breaks. You break the truce, your little sister is your enemy’s for twenty-four hours. She comes back to you alive and not permanently injured or permanently marked, but punished in whatever fashion the wronged gang decrees.”
There was silence in the room for several minutes. Then Rick said slowly, almost in a whisper, “I swear by my sister.”
Juanita answered him with “I swear by my sister.”
Emmanuel said it in Spanish, but then added the English, “I swear by my sister.”
Morris took a deep breath and held it for what seemed like forever. Then in a whooshing gust of breath, he said, “I swear by my sister.”
That left only Carlo. He stared out at the others, but he wasn’t seeing them. Instead, he was seeing the face of his little sister, Felicia. He had kept her safe all of these years and even kept her out of the gang life. She was almost eighteen… almost a woman. Could he risk her?
Could he put her forth to be punished if one of the Knights broke the truce? She was smiling at him, her dark hair framing her olive-hued face. He couldn’t bring himself to look into her innocent brown eyes. A loud cough from one of the other leaders brought his mind back to the table and the issue at hand. Four leaders looked at him in silence. He opened his mouth four or five times, but nothing came out. Then finally in a very tense, almost whisper, he said, “I swear by my sister.”
Prologue 02: The Truce is Broken
The cops couldn’t figure out what had happened. Suddenly there was a patch of the city with almost no daily violence. The normal illicit activities continued and even flourished, but there was no gang on gang violence. Evidently Juanita had found a way to make the truce hold. And the other gangs in the city weren’t quite ready to take on the five united gangs. So it went for over a year. Everything was smooth between the gangs. … Then came the tagging.
The symbol of the Knights was a large K with the lower leg of the K formed by a lightning bolt that extended above and below the K itself. Often it would be enclosed in a diamond. That symbol appeared throughout the Knights’ territory, and sometimes on their product, but it did not appear anywhere in the other four gangs’ territories… until that night.
Someone in Knights’ colors was seen tagging a building on the corner of Willmont Avenue and north Thirtieth Street– nearly in the middle of North Thirty territory. Whoever it was ran very fast, but not fast enough for their face not to be seen briefly by several North Thirties. Besides wearing the Knights’ colors, the tagger had the characteristic lightning bolt tattooed on their left cheek. He was definitely a Knight. The truce had been broken.
Somehow, after tagging the building, the tagger was able to run back to Knights’ territory. At one point, the six Thirties chasing him almost caught up with him, but when they turned the corner, there was no one there except some sweet young thing carrying groceries home from the store. If they hadn’t been otherwise engaged, they might have stopped for some action, but their minds were too set on catching this Knight who dared to tag an area in the heart of North Thirty territory. When they explained what had happened to their leader, he yelled that their minds were always on pussy and if they had just ignored the girl they might have caught the tagger.
If it had been a murder or something like that, bloodshed would have followed bloodshed that night, but Emmanuel said that they would demand the tagger be turned over to them or they would invoke the guarantee and demand Carlo’s little sister for punishment. He gave Carlo twenty-four hours to deliver the tagger… or his little sister… at the corner of North Thirtieth and Rail Street, the border between the Knights’ and North Thirty’s territories.
To say that Carlo was angry is a great understatement. He was beyond furious. He demanded that whoever had been so stupid so as to break the truce in this fashion step forward. But no one did. The trucebreaker, whoever he was, remained silent.
Felicia, however, spoke out. “You have to turn me over,” she said firmly. “It is the only way to keep the truce.”
“No!” her brother screamed. “Don’t you know what they will do to you?! You’re a woman and they are men. They will hurt you and use you and then send you back in the most disgraceful way possible.”
He didn’t add that he knew this because that was exactly what he and his friends would do to another gang’s guarantor if they had broken the truce.
“You knew this could happen when you made the truce,” she said. “You have been keeping me locked up on a shelf. I’m still practically a virgin because everyone is afraid to touch me. But I am a grown woman now. I know what I have to do. Tomorrow, I will walk across Rail Street and give myself to the North Thirties. I am strong. I will survive this. It must be done.”
Carlo looked at her in silence. There was nothing he could say. Everything that she had said was the truth. Finally, he said angrily, “So be it. But if… no when… I catch this trucebreaker, he will be punished ten times as severely as you will be.”
Felicia replied, “So be it.”
Chapter One: Felicia’s Story, Ready to be Punished