When she surrendered her maidenhead to her boyfriend, Terry, Joan was suffused with a strong desire to have him hurt her, to have him abuse her. She didn't understand the feeling, but she wasn't really interested in a solution to the problem of her strange yearnings; she just took all the sexual play that she could get and asked for more. What really hurt her though, was the fact that she was off to school and her boyfriend was off to training camp. She was filled with the sorrowful forebodings of the many nights she'd be without Terry and his huge love pole filling her three orifices.
When she boarded the bus for school, she was lost and lonely-so lonely that she allowed herself to seek the pleasure of an old country bumpkin who turned out to be the most powerful influence to ever enter her life. In the back of the bus, she was introduced to the variations on the theme of sneaking a piece, and opened herself up for the maddest adventure of her sex starved, pain hungry body that she would ever experience. She had found her match when she met Willy.
In his prodding country manner, Willy took her to visit his haunted house on the hill, thanks to an unfortunate accident, minor problem, with the bus. Listening to the tale of the house and sipping a little liquor with her host, Joan was led into a gallery of humiliation that she would never walk away from.
Joan became Willy's "guest", in a manner of speaking, and Willy was quick to invite all his buddies from the local bar to come up and see her. He had to convince her, though, that she really wanted to stay, and with the help of a well-placed lash now and then, Joan began to be a part of Willy's house on the hill-even when one of Willy's well-meaning friends, Tom, called in the local police.
Whipped, tied, mauled and balled, Joan was not about to leave. She had found her place.
CHAPTER ONE
Joan and Terry were sitting in his room. The lights were bright and Terry turned out all of them except for the small bedside lamp.
He saw the smile drop from Joan's lips and an urgent gleam in her eye as he moved toward her. She met him in the center of the small room and they stood close for a moment, their arms wrapped around one another. The heat from Terry's hard body seeped into her, and Joan sighed and crushed her firm young breasts against his chest.
He kissed her cheek then the side of her neck, and she twisted his face around, pulled him by the hair and kissed him hard on the mouth until he felt his teeth cutting into his own flesh.
His wide hands slipped up her sides, over the inward curve of her tiny waist, hesitated at the hard mounds of her breasts, then rolled down over her buttocks. She felt the thrills coursing through her body as his fingers groped and gouged her buttocks through the material of her skirt, forced their way along the furrow and the lips of her tiny cunt tingled.
Then suddenly, his hands were on the smooth hardness of her breasts and flames burst in her chest. He fought the shiny fabric of her blouse, flicked the buttons and there was a soft tearing noise.
Her breasts strained against the taut fabric of the bra and in the next instant, Terry unhooked the straps in back and she was pulling her slender arms free of the blouse and then her breasts popped out of the large silken cups and stood proudly in the heat between them.
Terry stepped back and gaped at her large round breasts. The nipples, small and pointed, were the most delicate shade of pink that Terry couldn't determine the outer edges. His fingers moved in the dim light and curled around her slim waist.
He buried his curly head between the darkening curves of flesh and kissed the tender petals, ran the point of his tongue between them, darting from one nipple to the other to taste the sweetness of both at the same time.
Joan held onto his shoulders and dropped her head back. Her long dark hair tickled the naked flesh of her back and she squirmed against his soft, insistent tongue. She wanted to cry out, beg him to be cruel, to hurt her. She didn't wonder why because it was an old promise she had made to herself.
She knew that one day she would be with a man like this and there was something wrong. Everyone told her that she would have to be careful of men, but she found herself wanting someone, Terry, to rip the clothes from her back, beat her and rape her. That way, she told herself, she wouldn't be to blame.
Terry's teeth were nibbling at her flesh, trailing along the hard mounds of her flesh, then catching her hard, coral nipples and the sensations made her legs rubbery and she wanted to fall to the floor when a hot pain shot through her nipple. Terry bit down into the flesh and she jerked back, but he didn't let go.
"Terry," she gasped. "Please be careful."
But instead of being careful, Terry took the whole nipple in his mouth and sucked hard until she winced with pain and his tongue whirled around the tip and his teeth dug into the silky flesh.
She squirmed, tried to pull away, but his grip tightened around her waist and she felt his hard cock in his pants push into her belly.
The thing took on enormous proportions in her mind. She pictured a prick as thick as a pole, spiny, grating like a rasp and she struggled harder to get away from him. She knew that he would tear her soft flesh, rip her to shreds, and she would feel nothing but pain and there would be blood.
Terry forced her hand into his open fly and she stiffened. The skin of his cock was rough like sandpaper, she thought, and then realized that it was the cloth of his shorts that her mind was exaggerating. He moved a bit and suddenly it was in her hand. Yes, it was thick, but the flesh was so soft that Joan was afraid to squeeze and rub it. It burned in the curve of her hand and she slid along its full length and shuddered at the thought of this huge thing up inside of her.
It seemed to be alive in her grasp, the head puffed up, expanded and contracted and the veins running along the sides were swollen with blood. She wanted to see it, but when she tried to look down, Terry thought she was trying to get away and pushed her roughly and her legs crumpled.
She sat heavily on the floor and now Terry stood over her with the light of the lamp shining on his prick. Joan sucked in her breath at the sight of it; it was white and pink all at once with blue veins and a bulbous red head. Terry dropped his pants and stood glaring down at her velvety breasts.
His large balls dangled between his legs and Joan marveled at the thick tuft of black hair above his curved prick. Terry sat down beside her and put his arms around her, forcing her back and then his hands were groping under her skirt and she wanted to stop him at first. But then as his fingers touched her burning thighs, she relaxed.
The fingers moved roughly over the tender inner flesh of her legs, tingled and then curled up into the small lips of her pink cunt. She sucked her breath in as the finger wormed up inside of her. It was thicker than her own fingers and she experienced a new thrill.
Many times before, ever since she could remember, Joan had settled back on her own bed in the privacy of her room and inserted one finger and teased the head of her clitoris until she came, and the musky fluid coated her hand. Her own fingers were always gentle, practiced, and she could bring herself to a climax immediately, or prolong it, according to her mood.
But Terry's fingers were rough and she knew it was there to tease her, force the silky liquid to coat the lips of her tingling cunt so that he could gorge her with his stiff cock.
Her hand moved over his hard belly now, felt the soft fluffy hair and then grabbed his throbbing cock again. She moved her fingers, sliding them up and down, forcing the skin over his head and then her fingers moved faster and faster until Terry felt himself boiling inside. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. Now he lifted her buttocks from the floor and tugged at her skirt and panties. She helped him now and soon they were both naked on the floor.
Terry was panting as he loomed over her defenseless thighs. She felt the silky scrape of his prick as he climbed over her belly and between her stiff thighs. His hands were on her breasts again, squeezing, kneading her tender flesh and his cruel fingers nipped the soft buds of her pink nipples.
Electric shocks washed over her body in thick waves and she felt a new heat in her legs. Terry worked the puffed head of his cock, forcing it between the loose outer sleeve of her cunt, and then as she settled back, getting ready for his entry, he lunged forward.
Pain shot through Joan's belly and she was frightened of the thick, hard flesh that was forcing the lips of her cunt apart. It felt enormous inside of her, although Terry had only succeeded in sliding the head in and she wanted to pull back out and get away, but there was no stopping him now.
He pushed harder, slid another inch into the tight sleeve and she felt his strong hands forcing her thighs farther apart until her muscles stretched and she cried out, more from fear than pain.
Terry was changed now, forcing another inch of his burning cock into her, and she expected more pain as he grimaced and lunged once again. Suddenly, he was almost all the way in and she didn't feel the burning heat of tearing flesh as she had expected, but the stiff poker worming its way inside of her throbbing cunt and teasing the lips, the clitoris as it touched and Terry lay against her heavily and covered her body with his strength and warmth.
He breathed into her ear, burned the side of her cheek, and now she could feel the whole length of his swollen prick working inside of her, sliding in and out of the smooth lips. Slowly, they rocked together. She found the rhythm came naturally to her as she swayed her buttocks, gyrated her hard stomach under him.
His hands clutched her tight buttocks and she reached up over his broad back and hugged him closer until the burning tips of her nipples touched his flesh and sent thrills through her body.
Terry moved quickly inside of her now and the puffed head of his cock battered the hard clitoris and rasped the sides of her cunt. Joan was lost in a sea of velvety flesh; Terry's mouth closed over her breast and his hands dug into her round buttocks. They were sweating and their chests slid together. His finger ran between her buttocks and found the tight muscle of her ass and she felt the pain stab into her again as he pushed and it seeped into her cunt as it slid over the cock raging inside of her.
Terry moved faster, squirming inside of her and then he shuddered and moaned in her ear and covered her mouth again, smothering her breath, his hot, sticky tongue darting between her teeth, twirling over her tongue and the roof of her mouth and his cock hammered all the way up now and then.
His fluid shot into her, burning against her, tormenting the head of her clitoris and then a new sensation raced through her and she lunged to meet his cock and then her body released itself and her own hot fluid washed over Terry's cock.
They lay quietly in each other's arms for a while. She felt Terry going limp inside of her and she wished he could stay there forever, hard and strong, and slide in and out of her, tease her cunt, bite her breasts, and bring her to a climax again. She wanted to come again and keep coming until her body floated out over the world and she could engulf it with her cunt, soothe it with her fluid, wash the dark corners clean with her musky scent and suckle every man at her large breasts.
She caressed Terry's thick hair, smoothed the skin of his back, and he moved again. Now she felt him coming to life inside of her and she smiled to herself, feeling like a mistress and mother all at once.
He was making love to her and growing in her belly at the same time. Now his cock was swelling to thick proportions again, but to her surprise, he withdrew from her. She looked at his prick as it danced in front of her and a look of shock flashed across her face. His prick was covered with blood. "Terry, you're hurt!"
"It's you," he grinned. "It's your virginal blood."
He turned her roughly onto her stomach and she wondered what he was going to do as he glared at the two soft white globes of her buttocks. Another virgin, he thought to himself as he spread the flesh with his thick fingers.
Joan, on all fours now, thought that he was about to enter her again and in some new way. She felt his cock fumble between her legs and she spread her knees to give him a better opportunity. But Terry had other ideas and he rammed his head against the unyielding brown ring of her ass. She winced and settled back to meet him again. Joan thought that in his haste, he had missed the mark accidentally, but he rammed her tight ass again.
"Terry, what's that? What are you...? "
He squeezed the flesh of her buttocks until she cried out with the pain of her flesh being stretched until it burned. Then he forced his thick cock into the dry muscle of her ass. It went in half way and she lurched forward and groaned as the pain tore into her body. He was shoving hard against her now and she felt the thick flesh tear into her ass, stretch the muscle until the pain was unbearable.
With one final push, his cock was all the way inside and a new sensation crawled into Joan's body. He hurt her as he pulled the cock out again, then lunged forward, thrusting his full weight against her.
Her insides were filled with him and she felt that she would choke. Her muscle flexed and tried to force him out, but it was no use. His thick cock rammed up inside her and she heard the sound of his belly slap against her buttocks.
His middle finger crawled between her legs and plunged into the wet lips of her cunt. Fire shot up into her again as he raged inside of her with his prick and his finger. She fell forward on her face and bruised her cheek. Terry listened to her sobs that drove him on, up into her burning ass, violating the last sanctuary with his swollen cock and he rode her, kneaded her heavy young breasts, pinched her pink nipples and glared at the sweating back and buttocks that he had impaled on his cock.
He hammered up inside of her, feeling the tight muscle slide over the head of his prick, the tender, sensitive nerve near its head, and he slid easily into the void again until his blood boiled in his prick, rushed up into the head and shot into her like a fiery cannon, burning her tender insides and Joan squirmed on the floor.
He fell on top of her and forced her to roll over onto her side with him. He hugged her flat belly, buried his shrinking prick still further until he felt himself completely limp inside.
Joan sighed as the fluid trickled out of her ass, mingled with his blood-smeared finger that still worked furiously inside of her raw cunt.
She shuddered and heaved, grabbed his hand and pumped it faster, rammed it against her aching clitoris and now she too raged with hot fluid, streaming over his hand and down his fingers. He smeared her belly with the stuff and she felt its cool, sticky substance and her tongue swelled in her mouth, sucked the thick, sweet saliva from her lips, and swallowed hard.
They moved to the bed and Terry looked at her lovely body as she lay back. Her face was framed in a pool of glossy black hair. It accentuated the fair whiteness of her skin, the blue of her sparkling eyes and the flesh-the breasts, pink-tipped and heaving, steaming in the heat of their bodies.
His cock was getting hard again, and he eyed her face, her plump red lips, shiny and dry.
He climbed over her, dragged his growing cock across her hard belly, breasts, and taut nipples. He slithered over her chin and forced the head between her tightly-pressed lips. She lay quietly for a moment, then as the salty taste covered her eager tongue, she moved her lips over his flesh.
The strong odor of his body, balls, and ass filled her nostrils and she wished that his cock tasted like the smell. She sucked easily, afraid to hurt his delicate flesh, but her lips soon tired and her mouth clung to him without moving.
Suddenly, he was bridged over her face, his balls dangling near her chin and his cock began sliding in and out of her mouth by itself.
His black curly hair moved over her and the cock dug deeper into her mouth until she choked. Terry slid in and out faster, until he felt the tight lips of her mouth, and finally, the tongue, darting against his nerve. He exploded into her lovely mouth, firing his milky sperm and watching it ooze from her lips as she tried not to swallow.
He pulled his cock out of her mouth and looked at her again. They smiled at the same time and now Joan put her arms around him and his mouth came up to meet hers. She kissed his face and the flat nipples on his chest. Her tongue moved over his body, her teeth nibbling at the loose flesh of his thighs and belly and then his cock. She lapped his cock, trying to get him hard again, but he rubbed her head and smiled. Her silky black hair tickled him, but his cock was tired now. It would be a while.
"We have to rest a while," he assured her.
She smiled crookedly and lay beside him again. They huddled against each other, touching their tired bodies. He toyed with her breasts as she caressed his balls.
"I wish you didn't have to go away," Terry said.
"It won't be for long, anyway. You can come to school and visit me. It isn't that far."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right, but somehow it doesn't seem the same. like you leave here and I don't really know, I can't really be sure that you exist any more, or if you were only in my imagination."
Joan laughed nervously and touched his cheek.
"Silly. Of course I exist. It's only a school I'm going to, not another world."
"I wonder," he whispered, and stared at the yellow light playing on the ceiling overhead.
Joan's thoughts weren't very far away. She tried to recall the touch of Terry's hands on her breasts, his mouth on her nipples, and his prick, swollen, pink and beautiful, standing proudly and goring her cunt into the submission that she had longed for.
"If I stayed here, what would we do?" she said after the long silence. She didn't look at him, but she could feel Terry squirming on the bed.
"Who knows what can happen."
"You would never marry me," she whispered.
Terry raised himself up onto his elbows and stared at her. She avoided his sparkling eyes, but she could feel them boring into her.
"Why do you always have to bring that up? You know damned well that we said it would be better to wait until we both got what we want."
"Sure, I know," she said sarcastically. "I get my degree while you learn your dad's business.
But I've been wondering more and more lately-what do I do with a degree if I become a wife?"
"Now that's what I call a foolish remark. You know damned well that I don't want any kids either, at least not until we've been married and have everything we'll need to raise a family. I don't want to..."
"I know," she interrupted. "You don't want to be tied down right from the start."
"It's not that I'm afraid to be tied down. I don't want to get into the same rut that everyone else is in. Remember what happened to Roddy and Barbara?"
Joan let out a long, deep sigh. She cradled her head in her hands and stared up at nothing.
"Yes. I guess you're right, as always."
Terry studied her face for a long time, then lay back down.
"Are you sure nothing else is bothering you? I mean, I get the feeling that something is eating you up. Is it what we did now, tonight?"
"What a silly question," she answered in a flat voice.
He had hit a nerve. Imagine, she thought, here I am worrying what's to become of us now and I didn't even realize what was going through my mind until Terry says something like that. "Terry?"
"What is it?"
"Would, would you be angry if I told you something, something that could be taken the wrong way?"
"Don't be silly. If we can't talk to each other, what else is there?"
Joan felt the reassurance of his words enter her breasts and warm her heart, and she sighed.
"I guess it is silly, but a girl, especially a virgin, always thinks that once a man gets her-"
"What an idiotic thing to say! I don't know if I should be angry or not!"
"See. That's why I was afraid to tell you. Now you're angry and it's my fault."
Terry cupped her chin in his hand and smiled. "Joan, I could never be angry with you. It's the idea of the thing that kills me. like I'm supposed to feel that I've conquered you, used you and now I should toss you aside. No," he said solemnly, "that's not the way it is with us."
She hugged him close and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. He had made a woman of her tonight and she wanted to give everything to him, stay with him forever, in this room.
She kissed his cheek and brushed her soft lips along the tight skin of his neck. Her teeth nibbled playfully on his flat nipples and she tasted the salty skin of his belly.
Terry caressed her hair, crumpled the thick curls, and opened his legs. Her tongue played across his stomach now, slithered and twirled the wiry hair then suddenly pressed his soft cock. He felt his whole prick inside of her hot, velvety mouth, sucking him to life, pulling and teasing the nerves of his tired body and in spite of himself, the head began to swell.
It grew inside of Joan's warm mouth, swam in her thick saliva, and reared upward until her head was raised over him. She closed her eyes and slid her mouth up and down over his cock. The veins bulged as they filled with fresh, hot blood, and her fingers caressed his balls.
Her nails gently raked the tight flesh of his belly and thighs and the strip of flesh leading to his tight ass. He was awake again and the illusive rasp of her tongue wasn't satisfying him any longer.
He coaxed her away from his cock and she lay on top of him. Her heavy breasts burned into him as he worked her ass up over his prick. She moved the wet lips of her cunt up over the head of his curved prick and settled onto it. A burning sensation curled up into her belly again but disappeared quickly, and now the only thing that she was aware of was the hard pressure of his cock.
She hunched her body, rode up and down his cock, feeling its head ram against her clitoris and the thrill wash up through her hard thighs and belly, into her groin and the throbbing lips of her cunt. Her breasts slithered across his chest and he caught at them with his mouth, clung to one stiff, crimson nipple and sucked until she moaned with pleasure, pumped faster and threw her head from side to side, her hair swishing, whipping her shoulders and face as she was caught in the frenzy of her hot cunt sliding over his gleaming prick.
She came fast this time, her body jerking as she sat heavily on his cock and she grabbed her breasts and twisted her delicate nipples. Terry was beginning to feel the pleasure in the warm pocket between her legs as she pumped a few more times then suddenly lifted herself and his cock flopped in the air.
She inched back on her knees then enveloped his shiny, wet cock with her lips, sucking and licking the white fluid from his head, sides and finally, his balls.
He lay back and felt her hair brush his upraised thighs forming a cradle for her tongue as it slithered around the sensitive head of his swollen cock. Then he felt the urgency in his groin, the pressure mounting in his balls, and he reached up, grabbed her hair, and pulled her mouth all the way over his cock and shot his fiery liquid into her mouth.
She drank quickly this time and he settled back again with her head cradled between his legs. He fell asleep with her tongue licking him like a cat. Her hair was thick and soft as it lay over his legs.
Some time later, Joan came up to his side and kissed him gently, but he was sound asleep and he didn't feel her lips.
He looked around for Joan, then realized with a smile that she must have sneaked out in the middle of the night and gone back home.
Great girl, he thought. She didn't even wake me up to drive her home. He was in a wonderful mood as he skipped to the bathroom and stepped into a steaming shower. He had to be a little careful about cleaning himself. Joan had left numerous battle scars over his body and he grinned triumphantly and rubbed his cock.
Fresh and full of new vigor, Terry stepped into the morning sunlight and found his car parked in the same place as every day. It was a short walk from the apartment, but it saved time in the long run looking for another spot every night, and on nights like the last, nosy neighbors weren't-likely to pay attention as he walked in with Joan. Joan, he thought, and visions of her white breasts flashed across his eyes as he turned the key in the ignition. In fifteen minutes he would be in his office.
"Morning, Betty," he greeted his secretary.
"Morning. Say, I found a letter that you forgot to open yesterday. I put it on your desk."
Terry shook his head. He wanted a cup of coffee and just wanted to sit back to dream about tonight and Joan, her last night in town. Tomorrow she would be on the bus for school and then. ...
The letter was in the center of his desk. He sat down and absently tore the envelope as he sorted the faces of the pretty girls who would be available after Joan had gone.
"Greetings...." the letter opened, and Terry was rooted to his chair.
There must be some mistake, he thought, and checked the name and address again. He ran from his office and stopped in front of Betty.
"Have you seen my father?"
She stared at him curiously as he waved the letter in the air.
"He was in early and left. Said something about a meeting. Do you want me to try and reach him for you?"
Terry thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Look, when you see him, tell him something important has come up. I'll call him later."
He flew out of the office and jumped into his car. He could catch Ben, the company lawyer, before he left his office for the county court house. Something was going to be done about this, he muttered between his teeth.
CHAPTER TWO
They sat in a booth in Stetson's diner and listened to the loud music coming from the jukebox. It had been a full five minutes since Terry had informed Joan of the letter from the army. Her smile had dropped from her face and at first she looked hurt, but now her blue eyes were flat and when Terry looked into them, he couldn't see any reflection. He sipped his coffee and pressed his lips together as if it had been a bitter medicine.
"Aren't you going to say something?"
Joan gazed dreamily at him and a deep sigh shook her firm breasts. A million thoughts raced through her head. She didn't know anything about the army, that wasn't it. Curiously, she blamed Terry for the affair, as if it was a voluntary thing that he was about to do.
As she looked at his smooth face, finely curved mouth set firmly, and his nose, a bit too long, but perfect as it jutted out between his dark eyes, she remembered the touch of his hands on her body, the feel of his cock inside of her, in her mouth and her lips felt dry.
Her pointed tongue slid across her lips and they regained the shine that Terry loved to look at. She squirmed as he smiled. The smooth surface of her seat made her flesh tingle as she moved and she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke hard and watched the thin gray stream disappear.
"What am I going to do?" she asked quietly.
"What can you do? Go back to school and I'll write as soon as I can."
Joan shook her head furiously. "I can't go through with it, Terry. I won't go back there, not now."
"Look," he said, taking her hand in his. "What good will hanging around here do? Brooding never helped anyone. Besides, it won't be long before I'll be getting passes. And the camp is only fifty miles from here."
"Sure, fifty miles could be fifty thousand.
You won't be able to get up to the school. It's a two day bus ride from here."
Terry was beginning to get impatient. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't anything he could do about it; the lawyer assured him of that. So he had decided to go like a lamb and sit it out, take things as they came and forget about Joan. He wanted to take her out of this place now, go over to his room and have one last go at her.
"How about a drink? This stuff is killing me," he said, pointing to the coffee.
"All right. Maybe it would do my nerves some good."
The air was cool as they drove to Terry's apartment, but Joan didn't close her window. She wanted to feel the breeze on her face and the comforting sound rushing past her ears. It obliterated all of her thoughts and she concentrated on the night, the dark shadows whizzing past, trees and fences, the neat little houses resting quietly along the road.
Music played softly on the radio and Joan was only vaguely aware of the voice cooing about a lost love. Terry frowned and twisted the dial. He knew that Joan would burst into tears sooner or later and he hoped it would be later, much later when he had what he wanted.
He glanced sideways every few seconds and watched her body as it rested in the seat beside him. Her breasts were partially hidden by her thin coat, but the hem was well up over her knees.
He slid his hand across and rested it on her exposed leg and she covered it with her slim fingers. His hand rested gently under hers until she tightened her grip and slid his fingers up under her skirt and he felt the silky fabric of her panties. They were cool to the touch until his hand reached the crotch. There it was warm, then hot and soon after he cupped his hand under, the material became damp.
He slid his hand back and forth slowly, teasingly, sensing the hard lip of her cunt and her legs tightened around him, squeezing his fingers.
Joan gazed out the window for a few moments, but as Terry's hand moved under her, she threw her head back onto the seat and closed her eyes. She let the excitement of his fingers wash over her. Her body was getting hot and the cool breeze was not enough to chill the burning fire in her legs.
Terry parked the car in the usual place and they walked silently, his arms hugging her close to him, and breathed the fresh air. The houses along the street seemed uncommonly dark and it wasn't until they reached Terry's apartment that they were aware of life around them.
A man and a woman walked in the opposite direction and cars moved up and down the wide avenue. Joan saw all the neon lights of the diners and restaurants and a strange feeling came over her. It was as if they were in the center of a carnival.
"Strange, isn't it?" she remarked as Terry unlocked his door. "What's strange?"
"This whole thing. Yesterday we were happy and today-"
"Come on in," he said curtly, and turned the light on.
They sat on the sofa and clinked glasses, and Joan gulped the warm whiskey. It burned her throat and she coughed.
"Water?" Terry asked.
She nodded and watched him as he walked across the room. His body was tall and lean and she loved to watch him walk with his slight strut, as if everything his feet touched was conquered, belonged to him and she smiled to herself. She belonged, too. Joan knew that she had to have him all the time. He was her narcotic. She had to feel him against her, on top of her, inside of her body, if she was going to live, to be happy.
Terry brought a glass of water and sat close to her again. His arms wound around her waist and he pulled her to him. His lips pressed hard on her mouth, smothered her breath and then his hands were exploring her breasts again. She felt them swell against the prison of her bra and the thrill of his fingers, brushing her taut nipples, sent shivers through her body.
Terry was all hands then as she strained against him. He touched her stomach under her sweater, slid upward, and his fingertips followed the bottom edge of her bra until they located the two hooks at the back. Her breasts stood out against his eager hands, groping over her flesh. She was on fire, her cheeks burned and her mouth was thick with sweet saliva.
Her own hands searched across his chest, feeling his smooth skin and then down to his pants and the cool rough fabric protecting the hard lump. He opened his zipper and her hand slipped into the darkness, found his hard cock in the moist heat between his legs, and pulled it free.
It stood tall and pink in the bright light and she covered its shiny head with her slim fingers, teased the nerve with the smooth flesh of her palm, then ran her fingernails gently along the hard muscle.
Terry moaned and his head fell onto her shoulders, his lips moving over the burning flesh of her neck while his fingers pinched her nipples. He pulled at the lower hem of her sweater, and she released his prick as the wool passed over her head. Then he slowly pulled her arms from the loose white bra.
Terry glared at her smooth white breasts as they stood finely pointed with coral nipples. She was so beautiful, he thought, so perfect, and his head screamed with wanting her.
Joan stood up and dropped her skirt to the floor, slid her panties down over her knees, and her breasts hung forward then stood up again. She knelt beside Terry and took his throbbing cock in both hands, caressed it softly, then kissed its head.
Terry leaned forward and took her head in his hands and kissed her as she moved closer. Her breasts touched the burning head of his cock and he shuddered.
Joan wanted his prick all over her body, inside of her and at the same time caressing her breasts and lips. Her nipples were rigid as she rubbed the thick cock across them, pressed it hard, trying to hurt herself with his velvety flesh. The touch of his cock on her breasts didn't satisfy her. She wanted it to rake her flesh, agonize her nipples and burn into her.
Terry took his clothing off now and the two of them stood together for a moment and then Joan dropped to her knees and lay back on the thick rug. Terry looked at her for a moment and watched her breasts, still erect and heaving. Her smooth, flat belly gleamed above the patch of thick hair. Her thighs, round and tense, spread slowly, revealing the small lips of her cunt.
Joan closed her eyes and felt him come to her. He knelt between her legs and kissed her nipples. She took his head in her hands and caressed his hair as his mouth sucked at her breasts.
His tongue whirled around her erect nipples and she felt the hot sparks exploding in her breasts, vibrating through her stomach, then burning in her groin. His mouth moved down over her body, tickled her navel, and rasped across her smooth belly. His head was out of her hands now as it slid away, over the thick tuft of hair.
He nibbled the tender flesh of her thighs, teased the lips of her cunt with the hard tip of his tongue, then forced the pink flesh apart.
His tongue entered her quickly and Joan sucked her breath in hard as it darted in and twisted. She squirmed as his mouth sucked at her and the silky fluids rushed through her. He worked quickly, exploring the inside of her with sharp thrusts and Joan was biting her lips, crushing her breasts with her slender fingers and hunching softly to meet his mouth.
She threw her legs around his back and tensed her muscles, drawing his mouth harder against her throbbing flesh. Terry moved in and out of her until she felt his tongue lash her clitoris. The thrills shivered through her body and she pushed harder against his face until every fiber of her flesh melted together, overflowed inside of her and coated Terry's mouth with creamy fluid.
She gasped as he withdrew his tongue and replaced it with his rigid cock. It slid in as easily as his tongue had and she felt a quick sharp pain, then relaxed as he filled her again with thick, hot flesh.
"Terry," she cried, "please stay inside of me, make me yours."
Terry lunged against her and slid his cock all the way in. She was still very tight and he felt her cunt clinging to him, sucking his cock in each time he pulled. He wanted to drive deep inside of her, deeper than he knew was possible as their bones crushed together and he hammered in and out of her.
He grabbed her breasts and tormented her nipples. They were erect and reddened as he squeezed. Joan was in a frenzy, twisting her head from side to side and moaning each time his long, thick cock pushed up into her, ramming against her clitoris. She opened her mouth and cried out as the flesh of his cock rasped inside of her, pumping furiously.
Terry felt himself coming and he didn't care. He let himself go just as Joan shuddered with the thrill of her own orgasms. They washed together inside of her burning cunt and Terry fell on top of her breasts and mouthed her delicate nipples. She felt herself coming alive again and thrust her legs up, but Terry's cock was shrinking inside of her.
She pulled away abruptly and pushed him up. He sat on his haunches, a startled look on his face that smoothed away as Joan lowered her head onto his gleaming cock. She tasted the sperm on his soft red prick, licked his wet thighs, and then the head of his cock rolled across his crotch and began to rise. It stood curved, rigid, and shiny, and she lowered her mouth again, engulfing the pink head with her plump lips.
She twisted her tongue around the tiny slit and Terry moaned, clutched her waist, kissed her hair and shoulders. His fingers traveled downward, slithering between her buttocks.
The tight, white flesh quivered at his touch and Joan opened her legs, allowing his fingertip to tickle the puckered brown muscle. It was wet with sperm and Terry pushed hard, forcing the muscle to spread and he curled his finger.
Joan sucked harder on his prick. She wanted him to come quickly in her mouth so that she could drink him in, feel her, soothe her throat and mouth with his fiery salve.
Terry pulled his finger out of her ass, clutched her head in his hands and jerked it up and down, sliding her tight lips over the puffed head of his swollen cock. He watched her lips clinging to his flesh and knew what he had to. The thrills as her tongue rasped his nerve drew his body up. He poured into her mouth and she drank the hot liquid greedily, sucking as it came in short spurts, feeling it wash down her throat, tasting the musky fluid.
They sat huddled together for a long while. He toyed with her breasts while she played with his sleeping cock, tickled his balls, and he laughed.
"Easy there, or I'll get hard again."
She smiled and kissed his chest, then squeezed his cock.
"Ouch! What are you trying to do, kill me?"
"Oh Terry," she whispered, "if only we could stay like this forever. I wouldn't need anything, no money, food, just you like this and your prick hard and strong inside of me, driving me crazy with its beautiful head." She leaned over him and kissed his prick. "Couldn't we run away?"
"No," he said, caressing her hair. "The government would be after me and anyway, there's your school."
"Damn the school and everyone else! I want to be with you. I'm happy now and I don't see why I should give you up."
"There are things in life we can't escape," he said.
"I don't mean it that way. Why should we have to give up something as precious as happiness? It isn't fair."
"Joan, darling, I don't run the world. If things were different, I'm sure there would always be unpleasantness somewhere along the line. It's the way life is."
"But things don't have to be this way. If you just didn't go-"
"I'd be caught and put into jail," he said. "Where would that get us?"
"I'm just disgusted," she said, and stood up.
"You're not leaving, are you?" he asked, hopefully.
"No, silly. I wouldn't leave you now. I just want to stretch."
He watched her prance around the room on delicate feet and thought that maybe she was right, maybe they should run away some place and hide. Her breasts bobbed in the light and he could taste her salty flesh on his tongue. She was beautiful and he was a fool to think that she would be here when he got back. Some guy would probably grab her right away.
"Will you visit me at the camp?"
She smiled at him and walked closer until he could smell her body, its musky odor filling his nostrils and he wanted her again.
"As soon as you write me. I'll tell the dean that my mother is sick, or something like that and catch a bus. We could spend a weekend...."
"Or maybe even longer," he said, then wished that he hadn't.
"What do you mean? How could we?"
"Just a silly idea. I thought that maybe you could stay longer than a weekend and-" he stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "How crazy. I'm not even gone yet and we are already dreaming up excuses to see each other."
"But you forget. I have to leave in the morning."
She sat close to him again and put her head on his chest. She could hear the steady beat of his heart and it made her aware of how fast her own heart pounded in her chest. She wound her arms around him and squeezed.
"It's all so crazy. You spend a lifetime hoping for love and it's taken away when you find it."
"Ho! Listen to the philosopher. You talk like an old lady instead of a nineteen-year-old girl."
"You know what I mean. You read about it all the time. The trouble that people run into everywhere and how everything seems to work against them and...." She stopped. Her voice cracked and now she sobbed against his strong chest and the tears streamed down her cheeks.
Terry felt her wet cheeks against him and tried to calm her down, smoothed her hair gently and hugged her to him, but it was no use. Her tears gleamed on her face and her body shook with sobs. He would just have to wait until she was finished, cried the bitterness out.
"I'm sorry," he muttered and his words sounded stupid. "It will be okay after we get used to being apart for a while. It won't be forever."
"One minute away from you is forever," she said through her tears.
Terry looked at her "shuddering body and thought, how fragile women are at the wrong times. This whole thing turned out wrong. I wanted a good time and now here she is feeling sorry for herself. Maybe it was a mistake to bring her here. I should have taken her home and picked up Sally or one of the other girls.
"Terry," Joan said quietly, and brushed her hair from her eyes. "Don't you feel the same way as I do? You sound like you're willing to bend with the wind and take whatever people dish out to you."
"Don't talk like that!" he said angrily. "I feel just like you do but I don't think crying will help. Besides, I would look foolish."
"Maybe you're right," she said solemnly.
"C'mon now, let's not waste our time arguing or trying to figure the impossible. Can't we be happy?"
She kissed him hard and he tasted the sweetness of her mouth and felt her hot breath on his lips.
"Yes, oh yes, Terry. That's all I really want," she said, and kissed him again.
Her hands traveled over his body, pinched his nipples, and he felt her firm breasts against him pressing hard, teasing his flesh and she pushed him back. They rolled together on the floor and she stayed on top. His cock thickened and she squeezed it between her hard thighs, until he felt the smooth lips of her cunt slide up and he was suddenly inside of her hot body.
She loomed over him, her breasts swinging freely, two huge, pink-tipped globes of smooth white flesh. He reached up and lowered her onto his mouth, sucked greedily as she squirmed on him.
Her cunt slid over his prick and soothed her ache. It teased her and she sat heavily until it rammed all the way up inside of her and she felt her skin stretch as it forced her lips further apart.
It was burning her now and it felt good to have his cock squirming in her, teasing her clitoris, tantalizing her nerves until her whole body shuddered with urgent vibrations.
Terry met her downward lunges, arched his body and felt his cock ram inside of her with each thrust. She was in a frenzy now, shaking her head, eyes closed, her mouth hung open and her hair whipped her cheeks. Her voice groaned deep in her throat and now she reached up to her breasts and tormented the erect nipples until her flesh was red.
She squirmed on his thick cock, hunched up and down and the thrills shot into her cunt and she tensed as her cream cascaded over the swollen head of Terry's cock. The hot fluid touched him off and now he shot into her like an erupting volcano, filling her quickly.
It wasn't long after that Joan seemed troubled again and Terry decided that it would be best to take her home. She agreed silently and got dressed. He waited in the car as she took a last look around the bright street and then sat beside him.
Joan didn't speak as he drove across town and stopped in front of her house. The ride had darkened her mood and now that they had stopped, the realization that this was their final meeting, struck with full force. Joan fought back the tears as Terry mouthed his good-byes.
She didn't understand what he was saying, a voice was booming in her ears that it was good-bye forever, and now the tears burned her cheeks and she felt his lips brush hers and she stumbled from the car.
CHAPTER THREE
It was raining the next morning and Joan paced up and down in the small bus station. She was late. The nine o'clock bus would have been the perfect connection, but when she awoke, Joan looked at the rain streaming down her window and she buried her head in her pillow. It hadn't helped much and her mother was banging on the door, explaining that she was going to be late.
It was ten o'clock now. The next bus would arrive in a few minutes and she would have to spend the night riding if she wanted to make the right connections. It was stupid, a bother, but the trains didn't run near the school.
Joan decided to have breakfast at the small counter. She was the only customer and the waitress greeted her cheerily, but Joan ignored her and ordered black coffee. The girl turned away and it seemed like hours before she placed a steaming cup on the counter.
"Will that be all, miss?"
Joan nodded and placed the hot cup to her lips. It burned her, but she didn't care. She had a sudden urge to be cruel to herself or anyone in her way.
She gulped the coffee and it burned her mouth. It was quiet in the place and she could see the empty waiting room. It was still quite empty except for a porter shuffling about with a broom in his hand. He lifted the top from a trash can, looked in curiously, then covered it again and walked away.
Cars swooshed past the small building and splashed water up onto the sidewalk. The rain washed over everything in gray sheets, waving in the strong wind, and Joan couldn't see the faces of the drivers in spite of the thin black wipers that fought a losing battle with the rain.
She had the strange feeling that she was sitting in some sort of twilight. The day was new, still young, and yet it was dark, dreary and everyone stayed indoors. The streets were as empty as they would be at night.
She thought of Terry sitting in his office now. He was probably in a meeting or perhaps dictating a letter to his secretary. She tried to picture him, dressed in his neat suit, standing in the center of his office and mouthing words that had no meaning.
In a few days he would be driving out of town to report for duty, and that would be the end of an episode. What would he be doing tonight, she wondered.
Her brow wrinkled as she pictured Terry smiling and chattering with another girl, probably taking her to dinner and then-She coughed as she sipped the brown liquid. Her eyes drifted to a telephone booth in a corner of the room and her whole body strained toward it. But she held herself back. It wouldn't do any good to phone him now.
She glanced at the clock and watched the thin, black second hand sweeping across the numbered face. The bus would be coming any minute now and besides, what was there to say? She couldn't do any more than make her situation worse by building false hope. "Miss!"
Joan turned to face the porter standing in the open door. He still held the broom in one hand.
"Your bus is coming now."
"Thank you."
She paid for the coffee and picked up her small suitcase. The bus had pulled up alongside the waiting room and blocked the view of the trees completely with its long yellow body. She couldn't see anyone through the windows and the door stood gaping open, beckoning her to enter the blackness. She didn't want to leave now.
Her feet stood frozen to the floor of the waiting room and her heart beat wildly in her chest. She felt giddy and reeled slightly and would have fallen if the porter hadn't come up behind her and placed his heavy hand on her shoulder.
"You alright, miss?"
"Yes. Yes, thank you," she said and stepped into the bus.
The driver smiled gloomily and took her ticket. He closed the door immediately. It was as if he had been waiting just for her and she wanted to stop him as he released the air brake with a loud hiss, tell him it was all a mistake, that she belonged here with Terry, not in a stuffy school.
But the driver stared straight ahead through the broad windshield and the monotonous slap of the long wiper blades speeded up as the bus pulled away from the curb. It was too late.
Joan looked back into the compartment. It was almost empty and Joan decided to sit all the way in back. The seat backs were high and she wouldn't have to watch the town grow smaller behind her, feel Terry receding into the background of her life.
A dark-haired, middle-aged man looked up and smiled at her as she passed, but she didn't seem to notice. She was only aware of the movement of the bus under and around her. It was like walking down a long dark tunnel and watching your life getting grayer, smaller as it squeezed itself in the frame of the rear window.
Joan sat heavily on the soft seat and slid her suitcase along the floor. She leaned back and rested her head on the cushion, closed her eyes and listened to the hum of the powerful engine as the bus sped over the road, leaving the trees and sign posts behind.
The tires whined softly and Joan found the noise pleasant, a fitting sound with the hum and rattle of the bus. Rain splashed on the roof and windows, diluting the passing countryside, streaming down the glass.
She closed her eyes and felt the weight of her body sink into the cushion. Her eyes burned. She hadn't slept much the night before. Her mind was full of Terry, his smile, sparkling eyes, and his body-long and lean-soft to the touch.
The magic of his body as it grew hot and hard and worked its way into her. That strange appendage of pure pleasure, squirming inside of her, melting, becoming a necessary part of her. And Terry's mouth, kissing his tongue, darting into her lips, sucking then soothing her tingling nerves.
It had been wonderful, she thought, and found her breath coming quickly. It was the most important thing that had happened to her so far in her life and now her thoughts were bitter.
Terry had cheated her of the pleasure she knew he was capable of giving and brushed her aside like lint-a piece of fluff that could be replaced easily. Now she felt the hot anger boiling in her blood. Of course! It was so simple, but she was naive enough to believe him.
He was so eager to get rid of her. When she suggested he meet her at the bus station that morning, he seemed annoyed and begged off with some slim excuse. He had a meeting or some other thing. She couldn't understand his attitude.
Last night he had been so close to her. They had sucked each other's bodies dry, like two honey bees, but before he took her home, his face had become solemn. It was as if he carried a great weight on his shoulders, a problem.
She was that burden. It must have been that. What other reason could there have been for his coldness? Joan squirmed in her seat. She opened her bright eyes and glared at the dim scenery whizzing past. It was clear now that Terry had used her for a good fling. He could go around bragging that he chalked up another virgin. The bastard!
The rest of the day was a boring succession of stops along the route. Joan glanced nervously at her watch each time the bus stopped on the road. It was on time. Traffic was light because of the weather, but she definitely had a very uneasy feeling, a really nagging feeling that she was going to be late and once, when a car passed close to them, trying to overtake them before an oncoming truck, her body stiffened and a picture flashed through her mind. The truck swerved to avoid the car and smashed into the bus. Joan saw her own body sprawled across the cement in a pool of blood. Her eyes were closed and the red fluid trickled from one corner of her mouth.
It was horrible. She couldn't imagine why she felt this crazy sense that some danger lurked around the next turn and it was a relief to her when the driver stopped the bus and announced that they could have lunch.
She let the others file off the bus and waited a few moments before she followed. There was one small building that served as a diner and general store, and Joan hesitated for a moment. She didn't want to sit next to the others.
The lunch counter extended along one side of the large room. To the left, as she entered, Joan saw the cash register near the shelves stacked with boxes and cans of food. The bus driver was talking with a man behind the register and they both stopped when they saw the beautiful young girl come in. The driver smiled.
"What'll it be, miss?" the waitress asked as Joan sat at one end of the counter.
She looked around quickly, spotted a huge sign with a hamburger painted on it, and ordered one. The other passengers didn't seem to notice her, except for the middle-aged man. He smiled as their eyes met and Joan glanced away quickly. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her nervous.
"Aren't you on the same bus?"
She turned as the man sat down next to her. Her first impulse was to ignore him. But it seemed silly. He was probably just as bored as she was and it would be rude not to answer.
"Yes," she said curtly, in spite of herself.
"Going far?"
"I'm going back to the university at Corona."
"Oh, that's a good trip. I don't live too far from there so I'll be getting off the bus before you," he said. "My name is William, Willy my friends call me," he said quietly, and tried to look into her eyes.
"Joan," she answered after a long silence.
The waitress placed the hamburger in front of her and waited expectantly.
"Will you have something to drink? On me?" Willy said.
She looked at him for a moment, then smiled, "Coffee, thank you."
Willy explained that he was retired after having worked for the government. He lived alone in a small town where he owned a large, empty house and spent his days walking in the woods and collecting specimens of mushrooms.
"You wouldn't believe how interesting it is.
There are so many varieties that people pass off as poisonous just because they don't know anything about them."
"What do you do with your specimens?"
"Eat them. I stew them, fry them, pickle them. They are healthy and pure. No chemical treatment out there in the woods. Does wonders for you."
"You were already on the bus before I got on, weren't you?"
"Yes. I was down visiting my sister. Supposed to stay a week, but I can't take it. She's always trying to get me married off to one of her friends. They parade in and out of the house all day long, gawking at me like I was a roast chicken waiting to be eaten. Blah!"
Joan giggled, then covered her mouth. "Excuse me," she said. "I didn't mean to be rude, but it sounded so funny and I can just picture those nervous women."
"Clucking and shaking their heads in approval," he added. "Well, I fooled them. I got up early this morning and caught the first bus out. My sister is probably still wondering what happened to me. Serves her right for spoiling my fun."
They laughed together and the bus driver came to the counter. He slid onto a nearby stool and smiled.
"Time for one more cup of coffee, folks," he announced.
Joan decided that she would get on the bus first and called for her check.
"Please, allow me, Willy said as he reached for his wallet. "How much is that together?" he asked the waitress.
Joan protested, but he insisted that it was his way of having fun. He explained that it wasn't every day that an old crow like him got to talk to a young beauty like her. She smiled and thanked him for his flattering remark.
"Besides," he added, "I don't have anything to do with my money except spend it. It gets musty if I stuff it in a mattress and I don't trust the banks."
She laughed again and stood up.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked quietly. His eyes gleamed in the light and he smiled faintly, hopefully as he awaited her answer.
Joan thought it strange at first, but when she looked at his sharp eyes and the gentle curve of his mouth, she decided that he was quite harmless and it would do her good to break the monotony of the trip.
She nodded and they boarded the bus together. A few of the old women who had been on the same bus followed the two of them as they disappeared.
It was still raining, and the driver had left the door open. It was damp inside the bus and Joan didn't take off her coat. The old man sat next to her and smiled, rubbed his palms together, and blew into his fingers.
"He could have left the heater on. It's so damned wet. Everything you touch is wet."
"Yes," Joan agreed.
"What are you studying at school."
"Nothing very complicated. Economics, things like that."
"Oh," he commented. "Don't sell yourself short. It takes a lot of concentration to get through school."
How would you know, she thought to herself. It was obvious that he had never gone to college, maybe not even high school. Otherwise, how could he end up in the woods?
The passengers and driver entered the bus and sat down. One woman held a long glance in Joan's direction and finally turned away when the door hissed and closed and the driver gunned the engine. It sounded smooth and powerful and Joan was glad that the man was going to keep her company now. The rain fell steadily and she was getting depressed. Everything was wet and shiny and yet, the day was dark and forbidding.
"Here we go," Willy commented as the bus pulled away from the diner and bounced back onto the main road.
There was a twinkle in his eye now as he gazed at Joan.
"Good to feel the road under you. Sometimes I dream that I'm on a great ship, sailing across the ocean. I discover new lands and meet new people." He stared dreamily at the ceiling. "I've never been further away from home than my sister's place. It gets lonely sometimes living in that house."
"How big is your place?"
"Oh, hard to say. I never have been in all the rooms lately, but it's big, that I can tell you. It gets drafty in winter and too hot in summer. I can't get a big enough fan to cool the whole place off and now I have to close off most of the rooms or my coal bill will hit the sky."
A few black, shiny cars overtook them and splashed sheets of water onto the bus and Joan thought she felt it swerve as the wind sucked across the open parts of the road. It was getting darker now. Willy had been chattering alongside her for hours. He told her about his house, how he came to buy it for next to nothing.
"Old Tom French, he's one of the first people to live up there. They say he went crazy after his wife, Sadie, died. Lived alone up there for years until they found him running around naked on the road. He was screaming and waving his arms, shouting about his wife being alive in that house. He said she was sleeping under floorboards all day and came out to haunt him at night."
"Sounds spooky."
"Ah, just an old man living with his fears. I searched the place thoroughly before I bought it."
Joan rested her head on the seat and gazed at the ceiling as Willy talked on, describing his house, the rooms, the woods surrounding. She closed her eyes and relaxed and the sound of his voice lulled her to sleep. Her head was spinning with thoughts of Terry and school and Willy's spooky story. She wondered what was doing. ...
They were alone in his room. The lights were dim and the rain pattered against the window panes. But they were warm and cozy and Terry smiled as he handed her a drink.
They sat together on his small sofa and his hand slipped from her shoulder and found the soft flesh of her breast. She tingled under his fingers as they groped inside of her dress, cupped her breast, and fondled her hard nipple.
Terry moved closer to her and pressed his body against her. He reached for her hand and guided it to his pants where she found the hard mound.
Her fingers unzipped his fly and the red head of his cock popped out suddenly. It was smooth and dry and burning hot in her hand and she slid her fingers over its length, feeling its horny flesh.
"Oh, that's wonderful," the voice moaned against her neck.
Joan opened her eyes with a start. The bus was dark now except for the lights over the seats. She was aware of the weight on her shoulder and then a hand inside of her dress, moving over her breasts and her own fingers were curled around Willy's prick. She couldn't see too well in the dim light, but his cock stood straight and thick in her hand and she could feel the hot blood gushing through the thick veins.
"What are you, what's going on?" she said in a hushed voice.
Willy caressed her breasts and moaned against her. He seemed lost in a dream with his eyes closed and Joan let his prick go suddenly and tugged at his hand. He sat up abruptly and glared at her.
"What's the matter?"
"I ... how did this happen? I don't think you should sit here any longer."
"Now, don't be like that. After all, you grabbed me first. What's a little fun between friends?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Now move away or I'll call the driver."
"And tell him what? That you opened my pants and played with me?"
"I did no such thing. You took advantage of me while I slept. I should call the police."
"Look honey," he whispered and moved close again. "Don't be too hasty. I understand how you feel. It's okay with me, but you can at least finish what you started." He took her hand and placed it on his cock again.
She felt its soft, hot flesh in her hand and thought of Terry and suddenly, she didn't care any more.
Her hand slid up and down and Willy fell against her again, put his hand between her legs and caressed her thighs. In a few moments, his fingers were curling under the edge of her panties and smoothing the black curly hair, her navel and belly and then back down again. He cupped her dry pussy and then inserted a finger between the tender lips. Joan felt the sensations shoot through her as his finger probed inside of her and searched for her clitoris.
Her hand moved rapidly up and down, stretching the soft, hot skin of his cock up and over the red head until he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
He lifted her leg and reached under her shirt until he found the waistband of her panties and tugged them down to her knees. She lifted her legs and he slid the cloth down over her feet. Now he pulled her until she realized what he wanted.
Throwing a quick glance up front to make sure that no one was watching, she faced Willy and straddled his thick cock, pushing down until she felt it touch the lips of her cunt. He reached up and grabbed her waist, helped her slide down over his prick, and she was soon filled with his burning flesh.
But Willy kept pushing, trying to force her down more and she realized that his cock was twice as big as Terry's. It would never fit inside of her and she struggled, trying to get back up, but the man pulled until she felt the thing ram up into her and fire shot through her bowels.
It was almost all the way in now and she squirmed on it, forcing it in higher and Willy lay his head back on the cushion and gasped.
His hands reached inside of her blouse and squeezed her hard nipples while he gyrated under her. She lay her head back on the seat behind her and wriggled on the huge prong that was splitting her open. It crushed the hard tip of her clitoris and the inferno raged in her belly.
His fingers groped over her soft flesh, scratched her belly, and she felt the steely thrust of his hard cock pump up into her again and she moved with him, slowly at first, then faster as his breath came in short gasps and suddenly, it was as if his cock had blossomed, expanded inside of her then exploded its burning juice into her cunt, bathing her clitoris.
The thrill she felt burned hotter now as she rode the stiff cock and now the waves rushed over her body and she gushed over his cock and shuddered.
Willy put his arms around her now. His grip was strong and tight and she found it difficult to breathe. He lifted her, still impaled on his huge cock and turned her until her back was on the seat. She strained to see if anyone was watching up front, but he blocked her view as he grunted and strained inside of her.
She was lost now, riding the waves of his thick prick hammering away inside of her, tormenting her cunt as his hands raked her nipples. She felt the air as his tongue licked at her breasts and the saliva evaporated on her flesh.
His hands were rough, the skin like sandpaper and she shivered at his touch. His cock was jerking in and out of her and his thighs pounded against her buttocks with a soft thud each time he rammed his head into her. She could feel the length of the thing, sliding out of her tight cunt, teasing every fiber of her body and suddenly, he rammed all the way until she thought he would kill her and gushed his hot fluid into her and her own body shuddered with him, slid over his cock and came in a long thrilling wave.
Willy fell against her and she smelled his musky breath, the odor of his body, sweaty and rough like the bark of a tree. His thick fingers kneaded her buttocks and tickled her tiny ass and the wonderful thrill vibrated in her cunt again and she wound her legs around his waist, reluctant to let him go.
But Willy was tired now. His cock was slowly shrinking inside of her and he couldn't keep pace with her. He wanted to please her, but his cock was aching. He gently unwound her legs from his waist and pulled his limp white cock from her. It was slippery and covered with the juice of their bodies and Joan smelled its strangely fresh odor.
Willy stood over her now, his prick dangling near her face, and she took it between her fingertips and studied its cherry red head. Willy moved closer and her tongue flicked out, licked the sore head of his cock and he watched as she kissed it and finally closed her lips over it.
He fondled her hair for a few moments until his cock began to grow in her greedy mouth, sucking at his flesh until the blood pounded through the veins. His cock expanded to its enormous proportions, filling her mouth until Joan couldn't breathe any longer. The tiny head gorged her and pressed her tongue until she thought she would choke.
Willy withdrew the length of prick that stuffed her mouth, then moved slowly forward. He slid his cock in and out of her, fucking her mouth, feeling the velvety caress of her lips as they clung to his flesh. Joan was moaning and moving frantically under him and he drew back, afraid that she was choking.
Joan guided his stiff prick to her cunt again and pushed its swollen head until he felt the sleeve of her lips close over him. He rode into her again, eager to please her this time, and hammered up hard until she groaned with each thrust.
His cock slid in and out of her tight cunt until she stiffened and lunged up against his thrust and washed over his cock and let himself go, shooting the hot bursts of sperm well up into her.
They rested for a long while and if the driver hadn't announced a rest stop, they would have slept until morning.
Joan stretched and smiled at Willy. She wasn't thinking of Terry now. Willy had made her realize that she was just as free as Terry. It didn't matter now whether she was faithful to him or not. Her pleasure was more important to her now.
"We can go get a bite to eat here," Willy said. "I know this place. There's a good diner."
They left the bus after everyone else had gone and Willy took her to a small diner a few blocks from the bus station. The driver had cautioned them about going too far, instructing them that they only had a half hour. Willy assured Joan that the place wasn't far and they went on their way.
The streets were dark and deserted and Joan felt the strange uneasiness creeping up on her again. But Willy's easy manner soon calmed her down and they entered the diner.
The food was good and Joan ate ravenously. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until the smell of food had sent the painful rumbling through her stomach. Willy gazed silently, a smile on his broad face as he watched her devour her food.
Willy laughed and drank a glass of beer. He was in high spirits. It had been a long time since he had an encounter with a woman. His reputation in his own home town wasn't as good as it should have been. He was considered a mysterious character who kept to himself, shunned companionship and the people became suspicious of him. They said that anyone who lived in the old French house had to be crazy himself. It was full of ghosts, everyone knew that.
If they could see me now, he thought. I would be the one to laugh if they saw me prancing like a young rooster with this beautiful girl. He glanced at his watch.
"I think we had better be getting back to the bus. It leaves in five minutes."
He called the waitress and paid their bill. Joan argued that she should pay for her own things, but he wouldn't hear of it.
"But I have enough money," she insisted.
"Nonsense. What kind of a man do you take me for?"
They walked out into the chilly night air and Joan ignored the heavy drizzle that sparkled in their hair and tickled their faces. She snuggled up close to Willy and they walked arm in arm down the street. People passing by thought it was grandfather and granddaughter strolling together when they saw the man and girl.
The driver was waiting impatiently as they stepped onto the bus. He closed the door immediately with a sharp jerk of the lever and everyone stared at the two as they strolled up the aisle. Joan was aware of the others for the first time and she felt strange. Willy was old enough to be her father, at least, and she knew that she looked younger than her age.
They walked to the back again and Willy made an ugly face to one of the women who had watched them take their seats.
"Nosy old bitch," he muttered. "You wish it was you."
"What? Did you say something, Willy?"
"Nothing. I just wish that people could mind their own business. It would do us all a world of good. Did you see those old biddies stare at us?" His eyes glowed in the dark and he grinned.
Joan was beginning to have her misgivings about her association with Willy. He put his arm around her shoulder and she pushed it away gently, explaining that she thought it would be wiser if they waited until the others were asleep.
Willy grumbled, saying that he didn't give a damn about them and persisted in his advances. Joan struggled with him, trying to keep his hands away and he raked his fingers across her breasts.
"Please stop, Willy. Can't you wait until later?"
"I get off the bus later. Anyway, what's the difference? Everyone knows what we've been doing. It doesn't matter much any more. They won't bother us."
She felt her cheeks flush as he spoke. The idea that everyone had been watching infuriated her.
"You must be joking, Willy."
He laughed. "Yeah, okay. It was a poor joke. No one saw us. How could they with all these seats blocking their view?"
Joan gazed out the window and watched the shadows of the trees flash by. She felt lonely. It was as if she was traveling in another country, a place far from her home and she tried desperately to picture Terry, but his face hung in a milky fog and Willy's voice seeped through.
"We can have a drink there if you like."
"I'm sorry, Willy. What did you say?"
"I said, we can have a drink when we get to my place. Stop."
"I don't think so. I don't drink much and besides, I feel very tired."
Willy became excited and shifted in his seat.
"Go ahead. Get some rest. I'll wake you up when it's time."
"Time for what?"
"We can get a drink at my place."
She didn't answer him. The bus sped along the dark road and every now and then another car passed them in the blackness. It looked like a star shooting through an empty sky or a ship in the night flashing its lights. It seemed like an endless ride and Joan was getting a cramp in her back. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Willy noticed that something was wrong.
"Can I do something?"
"I don't think so. My back is stiff, that's all."
Without saying another word, Willy ran his hands up her back and under her blouse and kneaded her flesh. She was about to tell him to stop when his fingers massaged the soreness and it felt good.
She relaxed a bit and let him work his strong hands over her back. It calmed her, released the tension that had been working inside of her all afternoon, and she slumped forward on her knees, rested her head on her folded arms.
Willy was delighted to have the chance to touch her again and he worked slowly, feeling the velvety skin of her back, then the soft folds of her waist. His fingers worked quickly then slid under her and touched the firm flesh of her breasts.
Joan moved slightly, trying to escape his fingers, but Willy didn't give up and soon found the hard tips of her nipples.
"No," Joan whispered.
But Willy ignored her protests and squeezed her breasts until he felt them beginning to swell. His fingers teased her flesh, pinched her pink nipples, and soon Joan was relaxed and enjoying the practiced movements of his hands.
Willy was getting hard. He wanted Joan again although he knew his energy might not be able to keep up with his desire. But he was eager to try and he maneuvered Joan onto the seat.
She stretched out on her stomach and Willy slid his hands up her skirt. Her legs were long, smooth-skinned, and firm to the touch and his body stiffened as his fingers found the hot crux of her thighs. He tickled the lips of her cunt. They were dry and loose now and he inserted his finger easily.
Joan flinched and squirmed as his hard finger curved up inside of her and taunted her tender flesh. He felt the hard clitoris but it escaped his grasp. His finger was moist, sticky now and he pulled it out, slid it between the tight furrow that sliced her creamy buttocks.
His finger worked slowly until it was dry again as it reached the tense black muscle of her ass. Her body jerked as the stiff bony finger passed back and forth over her ass. She reached back and tried to dissuade him, but he brushed her hand aside like a dry leaf and rammed his finger in.
Her body convulsed and she raised herself slightly onto her knees. "No Willy," she hissed, "not there you fool."
But Willy smiled in the dark. He knew what he was doing. His finger had found its cradle on purpose, invaded the black hole with a vengeance and now as she squirmed on the seat, he twisted and curled his finger. It hurt her, the hot pain shooting through her bowels and she squeezed her buttocks tightly together, trying to block his thrusts.
Willy reached up and forced her buttocks apart, spread the perfect rounds of flesh with both hands and tried to see his target. It was too dark as he lowered his face. His tongue darted forward and tasted the salt of her buttocks, slid down and teased her soft thighs. Joan relaxed with a sigh and opened her legs.
Willy licked her buttocks, sending shivers up Joan's back and when the tip of his tongue found its target, darted between the throbbing lips of her cunt, she moaned softly.
His tongue worked like a prick, stiff and quick, slicing in and out between her burning legs and she settled forward, leaning her head in her arms and felt her buttocks spread voluntarily as his hot flesh worked inside of her.
Her breasts reached the hard surface of the seat and a tiny spark tickled her as her nipples slithered across. She reached one hand under and grasped a hard nipple, teased it between her fingers, and moaned again as Willy pushed his tongue further up into her.
It was hard and soft all at once and it touched her clitoris, sent shivers through her body and she felt herself coming. She tried to hold back but Willy's mouth insisted, scraping his tongue over her lips and clitoris and she released a hot flow of liquid.
Willy drank her fluid, sucking until his lips made a loud smacking noise. His cock was a rigid steel rod now and he didn't care how tired he was. He opened his pants and looked at his huge prick curving black and shiny in the dark. Its head was purple with rage and the veins swollen with boiling red blood.
He looked down at the dark slit and inched forward until his cock contacted the cooled flesh of her buttocks.
Joan squirmed as the burning prick searched her ass She felt it probing for her cunt, but stop suddenly near her ass. He pressed against her tight muscle and she twisted again to evade the rock-hard cock as it tried to force its way into her ass.
Willy grabbed it with one hand and leaned against the prostrate girl's back, and trying to keep her from moving, he forced the head of his prick into her ass. It sunk half way in, split the tense muscle, and the girl moaned and twisted frantically as she tried to escape the painful rod, cramming itself into her tender ass.
Although Willy was only an inch or so inside of her, she thought his whole cock was stuffed into her tiny ass and she squirmed faster now, reached back with her hands and pushed it out. Willy was angry. He thought of the other passengers up front and decided to let it go and leaned forward again to line his prick and push it easily into her slippery cunt.
Joan relaxed under him and he heard her sigh as he gorged her silky pocket with his swollen cock. He pumped forward into her sucking cunt and she wriggled with him, sent thrills into his cock and down into his balls where they exploded in a fireworks of liquid that raced back into the head of his cock and cascaded into Joan's cunt. She opened her legs wider. She wanted all of him inside as she felt the rush of fiery sperm and then Willy's deep sigh.
He was disgusted. It had all been too fast, but there would be more, he assured himself. He wasn't going to give up so easily.
CHAPTER FOUR
Joan watched the lights of the bus spread across the black trees as they rounded a curve in the road. The ride seemed endless and she was hoping they would be stopping soon. Willy was curled up on the seat next to her. He snored in his sleep and she smiled to herself. She felt like a satisfied kitten now and relaxed in her seat as a few buildings flashed by, and then a street light, and in a few moments the bus pulled up to a stop in front of a dark building.
"Willy-wake up. I think we're stopping. Wake up!"
Willy opened his eyes slowly and blinked. A light from the street shone directly into the back of the bus and hurt his eyes.
"Where are we? What is it-" he stammered.
"I don't know where we are now."
The driver informed everyone that he had to leave the bus. A new man would be taking over and they had a half hour lay over if anyone wanted to stretch.
"Hey! This is my place," Willy said. "C'mon, let's get off and I'll take you for a drink or something."
"No," Joan said, shaking her head. "I don't think I would want a drink, but a cup of coffee would be great right now."
Willy said that she could get coffee and they left the bus together. The other passengers were already asleep and the driver had disappeared inside the building. A light was burning inside now and shadows passed the window.
They walked up the dark street and Joan turned around. She could see the lights of the town on the hillside below them. It was quiet and Willy held her hand with a firm grip and pulled her along. She could see a low building up ahead. A few cars were parked outside and when they got closer, she heard music.
The tavern was warm and cozy. A few men sat at the bar and glanced around when Joan came in. The bartender smiled and Willy waved at him as they sat in a booth near the door.
"Hi, Willy. How was your trip?" the bartender asked as he came to their table.
"Ah. The usual. They tried to marry me off-fix me up with every old witch around, but I fooled them and took off."
They all laughed then and Willy gazed questioningly at Joan.
"Sure you won't have a little nip? It will do you good on the way."
"No thank you, Willy. Just coffee please."
"Okay," he said, turning to the bartender. "A whiskey and a coffee."
The man shuffled off behind the bar and Joan looked around the place. It was small and cozy. A few booths lined one wall and the bar stood along opposite Joan and Willy. The lights were dim and music came from a juke box at the end of the bar. A selection box was located in each booth.
"Like to hear anything special?" Willy said.
"No. Just the coffee. I'm very thirsty."
The bartender brought their things and set them on the table. When they were alone again, Willy smiled.
"It would be nice if you could stay here for awhile."
"Maybe. But I have to get back to school."
"Just the same-I would like it very much if you stayed."
They drank slowly and Willy talked about his house again and his mushrooms. He explained that he never went any place.
"-except here. I come here every now and then for a drink but I don't talk to many people. They get too nosy-start asking silly questions about the house."
"You should find that flattering if people are interested in you."
"No. They aren't interested in me-it's the house. They all want me to give it up."
"Why?"
"If I sold it-they would turn it into a tourist attraction, lure the people here to see the ghost. Well, I won't move out."
"And right you are, Willy," Joan agreed.
She glanced at her watch, then at Willy's gleaming eyes and smiled.
"It's almost time I got back to the bus. Willy, I hate to go-really, but you know-"
"Yeah-I know. What does a beautiful young girl want with an old crow like me. I know."
"It's not that," she said, and put her hand over his. "There are plans to be followed through. I've made plans and-" As she spoke a picture of Terry flashed through her mind and it seemed silly to speak of their plans now that he was going away. And she remembered with a twinge of bitterness how he had ignored her when she left town.
"I'll walk you to the bus."
They walked slowly down the street and Joan marveled at the display of lights below.
"You should see it before everybody goes to bed. All the lights are on in the houses. It looks like a shining lake," Willy said.
At the bus stop, the passengers were standing outside, milling about and Joan heard their voices grumbling. The driver was lost under the hood of the bus and Willy walked over to him.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't know. She won't start. Must be water in the lines or something."
"How long before it's fixed?" Joan asked.
"Hour-maybe two," the driver answered absently.
Joan looked at Willy and he read the question in her eyes. He took her hand and led her away from the noisy group.
"Look-you can come to my place. It's not far from here and you can have something to eat. I'll leave my number and tell the driver to call me when he's ready to leave. You can be back here in ten minutes."
Joan frowned. She didn't like the idea too well, but it was better than standing around here in the cold, damp air for a couple of hours. She nodded and Willy walked over to the driver and mumbled something to him.
Joan followed Willy back up the street. They walked until the pavement ended and a dirt path continued through the thin wood. The trees became thicker after they had gone along for ten minutes and Joan stopped to catch her breath. She looked around worriedly. There wasn't a house in sight.
"Where is your place?"
"Don't worry. We'll be there in a minute. It's on the other side of these trees."
Willy took her hand again and led her along the path where the bushes lined the edge. It was so dark that Joan could barely make out Willy's form in front of her and she stepped closer to him.
The house loomed tall and dark in a small clearing at the end of the path. It looked huge and forbidding in the darkness. The roof was tall and broke the sky into sharp patterns. Joan could see another, wider path leading off in the opposite direction and she wondered where the road led to. They walked up onto the wooden porch and the boards creaked under their weight. Willy fumbled in his pockets for the keys and opened the door. His hands were trembling but Joan didn't notice in he dark. He stepped inside and flicked the light switch. Joan followed slowly and blinked her eyes against the harsh light. They were in a large foyer. Another door led off to the right and Willy opened it and disappeared for a moment. Joan stepped in and found herself in a sitting room. To the right, an alcove housed a small round table and two chairs. The table was covered with crumbs and a dirty cup. Willy saw what she was looking at and smiled nervously.
"I'm not much of a housekeeper," he confessed. "But don't worry. I have so many dishes, I can afford to let them pile up. I do them all at once whenever there's too many laying around."
Joan glanced around the sparsely furnished room. It didn't appear as if anyone lived here-except for the table in the alcove.
"C'mon. Let's go into the living room and I'll start a fire."
The living room was large but well furnished with old chairs, a sofa and a love seat. A huge fireplace lined one wall and Willy went directly to it and began scraping with a shovel.
"Sit down anywhere and I'll go get some wood," he said, and walked out of the room.
The dampness crept up through Joan and she shivered involuntarily. It was quiet in the house and Joan remembered the tales of ghosts that Willy had told her on the bus. She glanced at an old portrait over the fireplace. It was a woman. Her eyes glared from the dark colors. Her face looked angry, as if she had snarled at the artist. Her hands were folded sternly in front of her and a white lace bonnet curved around her head. Her mouth was a cruel slash across her face and lines shot out from the corners.
"That's old Sadie French," Willy said as he entered the room.
Joan's heart jumped in her chest. He had startled her and she turned quickly as he appeared with an armload of small logs.
"I keep that as a conversation piece. Whenever someone comes up here-which isn't very often-I spin a yarn about Frenchie and how he killed old Sadie and buried her under the floorboards."
He smiled when Joan looked nervously down at her feet.
"Not here. Don't be afraid. He did it in the kitchen. Moved the big old stove, put her under and replaced it, figuring that no one would ever look under that iron monster. But when the cook smelled something awful and became suspicious, she ran out of the house and called the law. They moved the stove and found the old girl under there. Her eyes were open and everyone swore that she was staring at Frenchie. He went nuts then and they took him away. He died raving about Sadie. Poor guy."
Joan looked at him sharply. "Poor guy? He killed his wife!"
"She got no more than she deserved. She tried to have him committed so she could take all his money and run away with her boyfriend."
"Mr. French was rich?"
"Oh-he never spent much. A real tightwad he was, but he knew that you had to be careful. Can't trust anyone when it comes to money," he said and piled the wood in the fireplace. "It didn't do her no good though. The law declared him sane but she didn't stop there-not Sadie. She kept seeing her lover until one night when old Frenchie came back from the mill and surprised them upstairs," he said and pointed to the ceiling.
"What happened then?"
Willy bent over the pile of logs and struck a wooden match. The flame glowed in his eyes for an instant and then the paper caught fire and the heat spread quickly.
"Frenchie heard them upstairs. He knew what was going on and he walked up quietly so he could take them by surprise. When he went in the bedroom, there was his best friend, between his wife's legs. Frenchie cracked him across the back with his cane, beat him all the way to the window. He was a powerful man and his friend couldn't take that cane cracking down on him, so he opened the window and jumped out. Broke his leg."
"Well, what happened then?"
"Well, near as we can find out, his friend made his way back home with a broken leg and not a stitch on. He said later that he didn't recall having heard any screaming or arguing coming from the house. He called the doctor when he got home and tried to forget about it. Sadie was a resourceful woman and he figured she would get out of it somehow."
The fire was crackling now and Joan sat wide-eyed and listened to Willy's story. He went to a cabinet and extracted a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She watched silently as he poured and offered her a glass.
"About a month later, Frenchie's pal was able to get around with a cane, so one day when he was out for a walk, he happened to come near this place. He wandered around back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sadie but the place was quiet. He tried again the next day but there was still no sign of Sadie, although he did see Frenchie pass by the windows every now and then. He went to the police, but they couldn't do anything. A man had a right to keep his wife locked up if he wanted to. But the man wouldn't give up," he said, and took a long drink of whiskey. He motioned to Joan and she sipped from her glass. "He went around town asking questions about Sadie-had she been in the stores lately and so on, but nobody had seen her since that night. So he went to the law again and this time, they listened to him and went up to Frenchie's place. He denied everything-said his wife was sick upstairs but he wouldn't let them in to see for themselves. A few days later, the cook ran into town, screaming about something terrible going on in the house."
"I guess they found her then," Joan added.
"Right. She was under the stove."
"But how did he kill her?"
"Split her belly open with an axe. Old Frenchie split her in two and let her bleed to death in the tub."
Joan squirmed in her seat and gulped the whiskey. Willy's story sent chills up her spine and she was afraid to turn around. She had a terrible feeling that something was behind her but it wouldn't harm her if she sat perfectly still.
"They took him away and he tried to hang himself in the cell that night, so they put him in a nut house. He went crazy then for real and finally died. Some folks say his spirit came back here to look for Sadie to ask forgiveness, but they keep passing each other in the dark and they are doomed to roam around here."
Willy sat next to Joan and she shuddered. The portrait stared at her and she looked away quickly. Willy smiled at her.
"It's just a story. Don't get upset about it. I can guarantee that nobody-ghost or otherwise, is here except me."
He rested his hand on her lap and emptied his glass. Joan felt the whiskey warm her belly as she drank and her mind relaxed. "Like another drink?"
"A small one," she said, handing him the empty glass.
Willy gave her a refill and clinked glasses with her. She smiled and sipped the whiskey.
"You must be hungry. Why don't you stretch out on the couch here and I'll fix us a snack." Willy didn't wait for an answer. He walked over to a radio and twisted tlid dial. Soft music filled the warm room and Joan settled back, loosening her coat. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. You stretch out there and make yourself comfortable."
"But I'm not hungry-really," Joan said.
"Now-a girl needs her strength too, so you just relax and let Willy take care of everything," he said and left the room.
Joan listened to the music and gazed around the warm room. She smiled at he portrait this time and raised her glass and drank. It seemed silly to be frightened of a story and Joan lay back relaxed as Willy puttered around in the kitchen. It was hot and stuffy, and she opened her coat and closed her eyes. She felt so tired...
Terry danced in her head, then Willy. They were in a strange room and she lay naked on the bed while the two men circled her. Each had a long stick in his hand and was swinging it over his head, spinning it until she couldn't see it any longer. Then there was a pain in her arms and legs and she tried to get up, but something held her back. An invisible weight held her arms and legs and the men looked down at her and laughed when she struggled desperately to sit up. Willy glared at her, his mouth hanging open and his eyes gleaming like fire. Then a dark figure appeared behind him-a man holding an axe in his hand. He pushed between the two howling men and looked down at the captive girl. She saw the anger in his eyes as he raised the axe, its blade gleaming in he dim light, and swung it downward.
Joan woke with a start. She tried to sit up, but her arms wouldn't move. The room was dark and cold and she was stricken with fear, not knowing if she was still dreaming or awake. She realized that she was naked and her arms and legs-were tied! She tried to free herself, but the ropes were tight and dug into her flesh each time she moved. Joan couldn't imagine where she was. She recalled sitting with Willy in the living room and waiting for him to finish...
That was it! She was still in the house and Willy was someplace-in another room and she was here naked and tied to a bed. She cried out but no one answered and the fear sliced through her again.
"Willy! Please, Willy-help me-what have you done to me, Willy-answer me!"
She listened again but the only sound was the crackle of wood in the fireplace. But it was cold and damp in the room and now she could smell the musty odor of the mattress. She realized that she must be on the second floor-in a bedroom. But where was Willy? Her mind raced into action; she had to get out of this-and the bus? No. It must all be still a dream. She was still dreaming and she would awaken at any moment. All she had to do was to concentrate on waking up. Maybe if she twisted the ropes, they would hurt her and she would wake up...
She pulled the cords holding her arms and legs but nothing happened. It did hurt, the rope cutting into her soft flesh, but she didn't feel herself waking up. Finally, she lay back on the damp mattress and admitted to herself that she was already awake. But she couldn't figure what had happened. She was on the sofa, closed her eyes for a moment-no, before that-Willy had fixed them a drink, she listened to his story-that was it. It must have been-Willy slipped something into her whiskey to put her to sleep!
Joan sobbed uncontrollably. She didn't know why the tears welled up in her heaving chest, but they poured out of her now and her heart ached. Where was he and what was he doing? she wondered. And why had he tied her up like this?
She heard footsteps outside the room. The sound was getting louder and suddenly the door burst open and Willy stood silhouetted in the frame. He didn't say a word and suddenly, the light burst in the room and Joan stared at his face. His eyes were burning in their sockets, his mouth was twisted into a monstrous grin, saliva trickled from the corners of his lips and his hair was disheveled, hanging down in front of his eyes. He was wearing an undershirt and trousers and Joan could see the patches of sweat under his arms. He looked dreamily at her and cackled. Joan tried to draw away as he approached the bed but her bonds held her firmly in place. She realized now that her legs and hands were tied to either side of the bed and she lay spread-eagled across the damp mattress.
"Don't be afraid," Willy said in a strange, high-pitched voice. "I won't hurt you-oh, you will feel a little pain at first, but not for long-or so I'm told."
"Willy!" she cried. "Let me go. What are you doing to me? Why have you tied me up like this-please let me go and I won't say anything-"
Willy laughed sardonically and rubbed his hands together.
"You won't say anything. Of course not-how can you tell anyone while you're my prisoner? It's very funny of you to say that."
She watched his eyes burning in his head as he glared at her gleaming white body, stretched across the bed. She was defenseless, at his mercy and he licked his lips at the sight of her heaving breasts, so round and white, with pink nipples and the flesh rippling on her belly, her hard young thighs, the patch of curly black hair and her throbbing cunt-the one that had yielded so eagerly to him earlier...
"You shouldn't have done it," he said quietly.
"But what did I do?"
"You shouldn't have said you wouldn't stay. Now I have to keep you here," he said in a low voice.
"Please, Willy. Let me go and I'll do anything you want-anything. I promise."
"You have no choice now," he cackled. "There's no need to ask you to do anything-give anything. I'll take what I want," he said. "But first you must pay your dues."
"What are you talking about?" she asked in a weak voice.
Willy turned away from her and opened a closet. Joan couldn't see what he was doing and he didn't make much noise. He turned and glared at her; in his hand, he held a whip. It was made of woven strands of black leather that ended in a tassel.
"No, Willy! You can't do that to me, please don't-I beg you, Willy, anything-I'll do anything-"
The leather whistled through the air and cracked across her hard belly. Joan cried out as it burned into her flesh and she twisted and writhed on the bed. Her flesh burned where the whip had lashed her. Willy's face was set, his eyes flaming red as he glared at her tender breasts, shivering mounds of flesh-the whip came down again, singing as it lashed her white flesh, streaked across her breasts and Joan arched her back and screamed. He beat her across her breasts and Joan arched her back and until her body was covered with red slashes and her voice was a mixture until her body was covered with red slashed and her voice was a mixture of sobs gurgling in her throat. She fainted as he lashed across the fluffy mound of curly hair. Her legs tensed and vibrated, then went slack as she fell back onto the bed.
Willy glared at the naked, blood-smeared body on the bed and his cock stood straight out as he unzipped his pants. He undressed quickly and crawled on top of her, slid his prick across the blood and rammed it into her cunt. Joan's body jerked slightly and her eyes opened wide. She felt the cock ramming into her and her voice caught in her throat. Willy grimaced as his prick tore into her dry cunt, rammed it into her until she winced with pain. She struggled as he hunched and hammered against her.
He was going wild. His big throbbing cock filled her until she thought she would tear open and Willy rode in and out, drawing his cock almost all the way out and then lunging forward again until his bones hammered against her. She squirmed beneath him and fought the ropes that held her down. Willy scratched her breasts and his nails burned trails across her tender flesh and she cried out in pain. Her cries drove Willy on to a new frenzy, his cock ramming into her like a hammer, pounding her insides. He grabbed handfuls of her thick hair and pulled until she screamed, then he let her head flop back onto the bed and slapped her pink nipples until they burned and stood erect. She could and then, as he stiffened, she felt his sperm pour into her, filling her and then overflowing until he gasped and hung his head.
It was wild!
He climbed off the bed after a few minutes and untied one of her legs, keeping a firm grip on the rope. Her kicking couldn't loosen the grip. He switched the rope, crossing one leg over the other, tied to the loose leg, then crossed the other, tied it to the first post. She was twisted in an awkward position; the lower part of her body was half turned, exposing her gleaming buttocks, while her breasts stood straight and erect. She was terrified as Willy circled her, gazing purposefully at her. His cock was still rigid, curving slightly, rearing its gleaming red head at her.
He produced a bottle of whiskey and took a long pull.
"That was a sample."
"Willy-please, I beg of you to let me go. I haven't done anything. I swear, I only wanted to go back to school. I didn't mean to insult you or anything-please let me go."
"It's no use," he said solemnly, "you've got to pay like all the others.
"The others? What do you mean?"
Willy ignored her question and took another drink of whiskey. He found his whip on the floor and pulled its length through his hand and smiled at her. She could see the shiny leather, menacing and thick. Suddenly, Willy drew his arm back and lashed the whip across her plump buttocks, leaving a red streak on her white flesh. The whip stung and bit into her and she cried out again and tried to pull her hands free. She strained against the ropes and strained away from the lash but it caught her flesh, burned into her and she sobbed and screamed for mercy. But her cries fell on deaf ears and Willy glared at her blood-stained skin and his cock swelled until it ached. He dropped the whip and climbed onto the bed once more. Joan tried to look behind her to see what he was doing and it wasn't until she felt the puffed, hard head of his steely cock bite into her tiny ass that she finally knew.
The pain shot through her tormented ass as he forced his cock into her.
She winced hard as his prick split her muscle apart, wedged inside of her and soon slid an inch at a time until she choked with pain. It was almost unbearable.
Willy grunted over her, forced his prick into her bloody ass and she tensed it against his thrusts. Willy's prick slid in further and now she gasped, feeling the swollen flesh ramming up into her, sliding in an inch at a time until Willy had buried it up to his tuft of hair. Now he slid in and out of her and the fire burned in her stretched muscle. He tore the delicate flesh, grinding and twisting inside of her and her whole body convulsed with pain shooting through her ass, into her belly and thighs. Willy raged inside of her now, grabbed her breasts and twisted the coral nipples until Joan opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. Willy grunted and moaned and when she cried out, he quickened his strokes, hammering up into her ass until he tensed, his body growing hard and then exploding in a rush of sperm that burned her insides.
Willy left the room after awhile. He closed the door as she pleaded with him to let her go. Her hands and feet were numb and her body throbbed with pain. The red stripes of the whip crisscrossed her whole body and burned every fiber of her skin. She called out to him long after his footsteps faded and then finally, fell back onto the bed and cried. Her arms and legs ached and her ass still twitched from the pain of his huge cock splitting her in two. She prayed that he wouldn't leave her tied in this awkward position.
Her eyelids were heavy and the light hurt. She closed them and a dizziness passed over her, shook in her stomach and she clenched her teeth. It was hard to hold back the sickness she felt sloshing in her stomach but she knew that she had to hold it in. Willy might be gone for hours-he might even have gone to sleep.
The thought of staying in that position until Willy returned horrified her and she screamed louder until her ears hurt and her mouth and throat were as dry as paper. But Willy didn't respond to her cries. He was in the kitchen. He ate bread and drank from the bottle of whiskey and rubbed his cock with vaseline. It had made him very sore, fucking Joan in the ass, and he vowed that next time, she would be sorry for it. He was feeling tired but the excitement of having the beautiful young girl tied to his bed upstairs kept his mind working hotly and he decided he would eat and then go up to have a little fun with her. He didn't know what he would do but he was sure that he wouldn't let her go to waste.
Joan lay in the bed upstairs and sobbed quietly. Her body ached all over and she saw the flecks of blood that had dripped from her legs onto the mattress. She couldn't bring herself to believe that this was all really happening. Willy had seemed like such a nice man and she had enjoyed his company on the bus. It had even entered her mind to stay with him a day or so but this-she had to get loose, call for help-but how? As far as she could tell, his house was far enough away from everything-the road and other buildings-so that her screams would go unheard and Willy could come and go as he pleased. Then the terrible thought came into her mind: Oh, would he keep her here before something worse happened.
It was really too much to think about-she wiped the thought from her mind. Willy was crazy-that was all there was to it-but what could she do about it? Maybe she could still reason with him, she thought. But how do you reason with a madman? She stiffened when she heard him moving around downstairs. She wondered what he could be doing.
The door opened and Willy stood dressed in a bathrobe. He was carrying a tray and he closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed.
"I have something for you to drink. It will make you feel better."
She looked up at him. He smiled at her gently and she thought for a moment that he would listen to reason.
"Willy-you had an urge-okay, you whipped me and it's all over. Now please-untie me and let me go!"
Willy put the tray down on the bed and caressed her cheek. She saw the strange glint in his eye and his lips trembled.
"I'm going to untie one hand so you can eat. You had better eat."
"Please-I don't want anything-just let me go," she pleaded and tugged at the ropes.
"You had better eat. You'll need your strength. Here-look at the food-"
Willy untied her right hand and moved away from the bed. He watched as Joan drank the glass of water that was on the tray. She sucked it dry and water ran down her chin, dripped onto the mattress. She gasped as she set the glass back down.
"My legs, Willy-they're numb. Can't you untie me? I won't run away-I promise."
Willy glared at her and smiled, showing all his teeth. "You think I'm stupid. You think Willy is going to untie you so that you can run?"
Joan saw that he was angry. He slapped the tray aside and grabbed at her hand but she succeeded in slapping him hard across the cheek before he wound the rope around her again. He rubbed his face and she watched the crimson stain spread. His eyes narrowed and he walked over to the closet again, opened the door and returned. Joan's eyes widened as she looked at the cat-o-nine tails dangling from his hand. The strands were thinner than hose of the whip he had used earlier, and she wriggled again, straining against the ropes. But the harder she pulled, the deeper they cut into her wrists.
Willy marveled at her flesh as it stretched and rippled each time she pulled. Her buttocks were tense and gleaming and her legs twitched as he raised the cat over his head and slashed it across her thighs.
She screamed as it ripped her flesh and Willy beat her again. He wasn't hitting as hard as he could but the slashing whip was painful enough to sting and Joan writhed under his blows. His blood raced like molten lava in his veins as he watched her flesh redden and tiny drops of blood appear. He beat her buttocks, slashing unmercifully across the round globes of tender esh and Joan twisted, writhed and cried out each time he hit her. His arm soon tired and he stood over her panting and drooling. She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of his wild eyes.
Willy took his clothes off and threw them across the room. His cock was stiff again, the head gorged with blood as he looked down on his victim. He took it in his hand and rubbed it over her breasts and chest. She winced at the sight of its purple head slithering across her tortured body. Willy cackled as she tried to escape. He pushed his cock onto her face, pressed it hard against her tightly closed lips. Joan turned her head to the side. Willy growled and raised his whip again, slashing it across her belly. Her body jerked and this time when he put his cock on her lips, Joan opened her mouth. Willy slid his huge prick into her mouth, stretching Joan's lips until she thought they would tear. He rammed the head against the back of her mouth and twisted his ass, feeling it rub her chest. Joan lay still with his thick cock in her mouth and Willy growled again. She moved her tongue around the head of his cock. Willy grunted and slid his prick out, then back in again. His prick tingled as the tight sleeve of her lips ran over his nerve. He leaned over her, standing on all fours and began pumping his prick into her mouth. He looked under and watched it sliding in and out of her taut mouth. The feel of her hard-tipped tongue sliding over the head of his prick sent shivers through his body and he spread his legs and hammered his cock in and out of her mouth, pounding so hard that she groaned against his flesh, her eyes staring as she pulled frantically at her bonds. He felt the heat rise in his groin and pumped harder and faster and his prick shot in and out of her lips until he felt the tidal wave gush out of him and into her mouth. Joan was choking when he pulled out of her. He rolled onto the bed and clamped his legs around her, rubbing his prick over her breasts. Her cunt gaped unprotected between her legs and Willy reached for the whip again. He pushed the handle into her. Her body stiffened as the long, hard wood sliced into her and rammed her insides. It crushed her clitoris and Willy jerked it in and out of her as he felt her body twist beneath him. He grinned now as he watched the gleaming, wet wood pump in and out of her cunt. He pumped faster now and Joan was groaning and squirming. The wood hurt her and yet she felt a sudden thrill as it battered her clitoris. Willy's hand beat faster, slipping the black wood in and out until she stiffened and came over it. He pulled it away and laughed.
"You little devil. You enjoy this too. Don't try and deny it-I've got the evidence now," he said, holding the stick in the air. "You like it too."
Joan turned her head away. She didn't want to look at him any longer.
"You'll see how wonderful this is. I'll make you play your true role in life. It doesn't take any imagine talk to teach a woman her proper place," he said and flicked the whip over her face. "Just this."
Willy retied Joan's feet and now she lay spread-eagled again, face up, and watched Willy as he hummed softly. He acted like a man doing his job as he crossed the ropes tightly around her ankles. He smiled as he listened to his own voice and Joan felt the fright well up in her breast again. She fought back the tears, bit her lips and swallowed hard. Willy was insane-of that she was sure but she didn't know how to reason with him, make him understand that if he let her go, she would forget everything.
She decided to talk to him as much as she could, keep his mind occupied, until he gave her some clue to his vulnerability.
"Willy, why are you doing this to me?"
"I told you, child, you need to learn your place. Too many women running around thinking they got something coming."
"But-the bus-what we did on the bus, doesn't that mean anything? Doesn't that show you that I'm ready to submit to you and there's no need to tie me and whip me?"
Willy's face wrinkled into a smile. He narrowed his eyes and clucked his tongue as he stepped nearer to her. She could smell the strong odor of his body.
"Child-you can't get away with that. Willy isn't stupid. I know that you want to escape punishment. Rightly so. You should be afraid of what's in store for you."
Joan gaped wide-eyed as he spoke. She thought that the worst was over and if she tried hard, she could persuade him to let her go. But his words dampened her hopes. She began to cry again and Willy shook his head and frowned.
"That old trick won't get you anywhere. I'm used to seeing women cry and it don't move me at all."
"You don't understand," she said through her tears, "I'm in pain. How would you feel if you were in my place?"
He stood silently for a moment, then walked away. She heard the door slam and the tears flowed hotly now. Her body ached and she shivered as the dampness saturated her flushed skin. Red marks had spread across every part of her body; her breasts and belly were bruised and her buttocks burned where they touched the mattress. She tried to forget the pain and concentrate on escaping, but the situation seemed impossible.
Willy rummaged around on the floor below and she could hear his footsteps, doors opening and closing, and then a scraping on the stairs. The door opened again and Willy entered with bottles and jars in his arms.
"Found some stuff in the bathroom. Might help the burning sensation," he said, and sat beside her on the bed.
He opened a jar of vaseline and began rubbing it over her neck, then smoothed it over her chest, working gently as he dipped his finger into the shiny yellow salve and spread it over her flesh. His fingers rubbed her breasts vigorously, smearing the stuff over her pink nipples and she strained against the ropes. She didn't want him to touch her anymore, despite his attempt to help. The oily salve felt warm and soothed her flesh and Willy covered her flat belly. His fingers worked over her thighs and she stiffened as he moved closer to her tuft of hair.
"Look how it shines," he commented as he rubbed the salve into her hair.
She twisted her legs away from him. Willy became angry then and slapped her hard on the stomach. A sickening pain ground into her and she coughed and sobbed.
"See how ungrateful you are. I'm trying to make you feel comfortable and you don't appreciate it," he said and sighed deeply. "Oh, well-"
He got up from the bed and went to the closet. Joan saw him reaching up to the door frame and twist what looked like a metal ring that she hadn't noticed before. She watched as he threaded a thick rope through the ring and came toward her with a loose end. He untied one hand at a time and then retied it with the thick rope. He repeated his move with the other hand and untied her feet.
Joan's first impulse was to untie her herself and run but as she raised herself to her elbows, waves of dizziness blurred her view of the room. Everything was spinning around in circles and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled from the bed. Her body hit the hard wooden floor with a thud and pain sliced through her shoulders and hips. She opened her eyes and watched as Willy grabbed the looped end of the rope dangling in the closet and pulled it across the room. She was being dragged across the rough floor and soon he was hauling her like a fish, pulling her arms up until she was forced to stand. He pulled harder now and stretched her body until her wrists were held tightly against the iron rings. Her body ached as he stretched her arms overhead. Her toes barely reached the floor and she pleaded with Willy to let her down as he looped the rope over a bedpost.
Willy happily surveyed his prisoner, strung up in the closet doorway. Her breasts were taut and the pink nipples stood out firmly. He grinned and rubbed his palms together. Joan was terrified. She thought he was going to whip her again and she knew that she couldn't stand it. Her body gleamed in the light and pain reached every limb, every fiber, and she cried softly.
Willy stooped to pick up the cat-o-nine tails. He rubbed the handle and slid the thongs through his fingers, then looked menacingly at Joan's defenseless body. She gasped for air as he stepped to within a few feet of her and swung the cat lightly. The leather stung slightly as it brushed her gleaming flesh and she twisted but her movements made her arms hurt more and she tried to steady herself, using her toes to stop the swing of her body. Willy laughed again and then threw the whip on the bed and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
She heard his footsteps diminishing on the stairs and then the noises beneath her again. She twisted frantically and tried to reach the metal rings, but her wrists were tight against the iron and she couldn't turn her hands. Her body wavered again and the pain shot through her shoulders and breasts. She cried out, knowing that she wouldn't be heard by anyone but her tormenter, but she didn't care any longer.
The room was soon quiet except for the sobbing as Joan hung her head in despair.
CHAPTER FIVE
Willy puttered around in the kitchen. He was getting hungry but there wasn't much food left in the house. He had made sure before leaving for his sister's place that he kept his shopping to a minimum. And now the cabinets were empty. He decided to go to town and pick up a few things.
He was humming as he went back upstairs to Joan. She was crying when he entered the room.
"There now. There's nothing to cry about. You should be glad that I'm helping you like this."
"What? Helping me! You animal!" she screamed at him as he let her down from the rings.
Her body sagged and her legs crumpled under her. Willy put his arm around her waist and dragged her to the bed. He threw her down onto the mattress and tied her hands and feet again. Rummaging around in the closet, he found an old dusty blanket and tossed it over her, smoothing the edges.
"There, now. That should keep you warm until I get back."
"Where are you going?" she asked.
But Willy didn't answer. He walked out of the room and closed the door softly behind him. He could hear her crying as he descended the stairs and he shrugged his shoulders.
It was a sunny, crisp day and Willy decided to walk to town. He took the same wooded path that he had steered Joan along and soon the low buildings were in sight. He stepped lively along the street and smiled as the birds twittered in the trees.
The whole town lay before him in a gleaming panorama and he stopped to take a deep breath. The store wasn't far and Willy stepped lively and entered, smelling groceries, fresh bread and vegetables and his mouth watered.
He didn't speak to anyone, put the cans and packages in his cart and paid when the clerk rang up his bill. He took the shopping bag and swung it over his back and looked up the hill as he stepped onto the street again. It was getting warmer and Willy was thirsty and he smacked his dry lips as he gazed at a large, painted glass of beer on a sign across the street.
He skipped across the street and pushed the door to the tavern. The place was dim and he stood for a moment until his eyes adjusted to the light. The bartender was alone behind the bar and the tinny odor of stale beer tickled Willy's nose as he stepped up to the counter.
"How about a cool one?" he said and placed his shopping bag on the floor.
The bartender smiled and saluted, took a tall wet glass and drew a foamy beer. Willy took it from the man's hand before he had a chance to set it on the bar and tilted it to his mouth. The foam bubbled and fizzed on his lips and the golden liquid washed down his dry throat. It felt good and he sighed as he slammed the empty glass on the bar and pushed it forward. The bartender gripped it with his meaty fist and filled it again slowly.
Willy took another drink, emptying half the glass this time and smiled at the man leaning on the counter as he set it down.
"Hey! Hey, Willy," a voice called out behind him.
Willy turned in time to see a familiar face. Tom stood framed in the doorway of the bar and came forward quickly and slapped his friend on the back. They shook hands vigorously and Willy felt the strong grip crushing his hand.
"Wow," he exclaimed, shaking his fingers. "You still got a mean grip. Where have you been? I haven't seen you for a long time. That's a real mean grip."
Tom's broad face flashed a smile and he clapped Willy on the shoulder. His strong fingers curled around Willy's neck and he shook him.
"In the city. But man-look at you. You look skinny. What the hell you been doing?"
"Not much," Willy said quietly and a picture of Joan's gleaming body flashed through his mind.
"Bartender," Tom boomed, "bring us some whiskey and a couple of beer chasers." He turned to Willy and studied his face. The thin lines were very pronounced near Willy's eyes-deep, like tiny black slits. "I been doing good-selling insurance outside the city. Man-you sure get to meet some nuts."
Willy flinched. The bartender brought their drinks and set them on the bar in front of them. He leaned on his elbows and grinned as Tom related a story about a woman he had called on to discuss insurance.
"She was a beauty, see-fat, hair in curlers, housedress all shredded around the hemline. She was chewing a big wad of gum that bulged in her cheeks as her mouth worked. She let me in and next thing I knew, I was surrounded by a screaming bunch of kids. I tried to be polite, tickled the kids and asked them their names, the old lady standing by all the while, chewing her gum and swallowing. She leaned against the wall and watched me fight the kids off. It must have been a good ten minutes before she asked me what I wanted. Insurance, I said. Oh, she answers, and stays against the wall like it's going to fall if she moves. Well, I send the kids off to play and the broad stares at me. Insurance, she says and walks away," he continued in a surprised voice. "So help me, the broad walks into the other room and I'm standing there like an idiot. Well, I was ticked off, let me tell you."
"What did you do?" Willy asked eagerly.
"Well, I get ready to walk out. There's no telling what this broad is doing. I get to the door, when I hear her call me-Mr. Insurance, she calls. Come in the other room."
Willy and the barman cackled when Tom said that the woman called him Mr. Insurance.
"Go on," Willy urged his friend.
"Well," he continued, narrowing his eyes, "I go toward the voice. It wasn't easy, what with all the toys and things laying all over the floor. She calls again, the kids are running around the living room and hollering and hitting each other. I go in the room-and there she is-laying stark naked on the bed."
"Damn!" the barman shouted.
There was a pause.
"Yep," he continued, "that's the truth and would you believe? That broad had the finest figure I've ever seen. She let her hair down, spread it all over the pillow, and it shined like gold around her face. And her eyes were calm and blue. Her mouth wasn't hard anymore. Damn! I thought for a minute that it was somebody else there on that bed. She was wonderful! Her breasts were soft and had little pink nipples. I remember wondering how come a broad with all them kids had such fine tits. Man, her belly was flat and her thighs were smooth as silk."
"What happened, man?" the barman shouted.
"She reaches up and points to the door and I close out the howling kids. Then she throws me a kiss and kind of squirms a little and tells me in this deep, sexy voice to take my clothes off. Wow! I was undressed before you could blink your eye and on top of that mountain of flesh. She kissed down my belly and licked my legs until she got to my cock.
"It was wild.
"Last I seen it, she swallowed it whole, sucking that beautiful red head and licking my balls, tickling my ass. Well, I had enough and I spread her legs easy and rammed the old rod home. She starts moaning and groaning and squirming and shaking under me until the bed creaked and I thought the whole thing was going to come down. I let her have the whole thing and she twists and turns and whines and I thought the kids would hear. But she pulls me down on those beautiful tits and I start sucking them until this broad goes crazy, pumping up against me until I figured she'd ram me apart. Them white thighs worked like hammers until she stiffened and screamed, dug her nails in my back and damned if she didn't shoot a load that would choke a horse. Then she starts whining for me to come and I worked her good, ramming my prick into her 'til she screamed for mercy.
"She wouldn't let me pull out, twisting her legs around me and pleading with me to fuck her death.
"It was really wild."
There was a pause.
"What did you do then?" the barman asked.
"I didn't know what was going on. The way this broad was, her old man could walk in any minute and I tell her, so she says she don't have an old man-she hasn't had a man for a year. Well-I don't believe that see-I've met too many nuts, so I get up but the broad grabs my cock again. She swallows it again all the way and licks it until it gets rock hard and raring to go. I let her have the whole thing in her mouth-fucked her face good-slid it in and out of her mouth while she tickled my balls with her hand. I could see the wild look in her eyes as she sucked the hell out of me-made all kinds of weird noises-and then finally, I shot in her mouth. Man, she sucked me dry-drank every drop and licked my prick and my balls. I was done for after that, but she wouldn't hear of it. She held on to my prick and made me lay down. She leans over, dragging those beautiful tits all over me and burning me with her hard nipples. They were pointed now and almost sharp, I tell you. Then she's on me again, kissing my chest and my belly, down to my legs and even my feet. She sucks my skin and then finally puts my prick in her face again.
"Man, she sucked my cock until I thought I would kill her. But she pulls away all of a sudden and climbs up over me and wouldn't you know? She tries to sit on my cock."
"What do you mean, sit on it?" Willy said.
"She tried to get that lovely big ass on my prick. Well, I have to admit, she gave it a good try, grunting and pushing her ass-hole on my prick. But this big thing," he whispered, rubbing his pants, "it wouldn't squeeze in so she had to be satisfied with the regular way. Man! She humped me silly, jerking up and down on me and crashing down on my belly. Her hair was flying all around her like a golden spray and her face was all screwed up like she was in pain. Then she fell on me and bit my chest and licked my face and came hot and fast. She shivered all over and shook those tits in my face and moaned and kept right on pumping. My cock was all slippery and her whole body was stiff. She tried to come again and get me to go too, but she was too wet. She got off and turned her ass to me, those beautiful round, white bulbs just begging to be split open. I took my cock and rammed her tight little hole and she howled animal. Her ass clung to me and I slipped in, feeling that muscle jerk the skin of my cock and it drove me crazy as I looked down at her on all fours like a beaten animal, moaning and rearing her head every time I hammered up into her. Her tits were swinging from side to side and her hair covered her face like a cloak and I fucked her like a horse and blew up in her, coming in big loads of beautiful, hot cream. She fell on her face when I finished-almost slipped onto the floor."
"Did you leave then?" the barman asked excitedly.
"She got up then and smiled at me and went to the closet. She came out a minute later with a long, wide garrison belt with a big ugly buckle on the end. Hold it sister, I told her. I don't go for that. She grinned real crazy like and held it out to me. 'Don't worry, she said, I want you to use it on me. Man! I took one look at that thing, and I knew it would tear her in half. I said no-it would kill her. Well-the broad just grins and says her ex-husband used to be a marine and he beat her with it all the time. She had to have it, she says. Man. I don't go for those nuts, so I got dressed and left that joint with the broad running naked after me through the house and begging me to come back with her. The kids didn't even look. What a sight! Those beautiful tits bouncing and that juicy cunt with a big puff of blonde hair. First time I ever had a real blonde," he said absently.
The room was silent after Tom had told his wild story. The bartender stared at him, waiting for more and then realized that the story was over. He grinned self-consciously and rubbed his pants.
"Wow. What a wild story. But all that didn't really happen, did it?"
"Listen," Tom whispered, "if I told you half the things I've run into, you would have a wet dream for the rest of your days."
"Well, true or not, it's worth one on the house," the barman said, and brought two fresh beers and the whiskey bottle.
"Leave the bottle," Willy said as the man poured. "Tom and me got some serious drinking to do."
Tom moved closer to the bottle and poured another drink. He smiled at Willy and raised his glass. They both swallowed and gasped as the warm whiskey took their breaths away and Willy grabbed for his beer.
"Hell of a story," Willy commented. "But was it all true? I mean-no offense, but you hear so many wild ones these days."
"Willy old pal," Tom said, clapping his friend on the back, "I wouldn't he to you. Take my word for it."
"That's what I thought," Willy said, "but everyone seems to be trying to top the latest story they heard." Then his voice became a whisper and he motioned Tom to lean closer.
"I heard a wild one only this week. Seems some guy had a young girl. Met her on the bus. A fella about our age was taking a short trip and met a young college girl on a bus. He started up a conversation with her and before he knew it, they were tumbling on the back seat."
Tom's eyes lit up and he grinned, showing his yellow teeth.
"Possible," he observed. "Possible, but very unlikely. What would a young chicken want with an old geezer anyway, with all the toughs roaming around full of energy. She could probably have had anyone, unless of course she was a beast."
"Not according to this guy," Willy said. Then after a pause for another drink, he continued, "But that ain't all. The guy lured her to his house and tied her up and he says he kept her for a long time."
Tom frowned. "A cuckoo," he observed. "Guy like that has got bullshit for blood. You can't expect me to believe that he would first pick up a beautiful young broad and second lure her to his place and keep her a prisoner. Bah!" he hissed and took a drink of beer. "She'd scream her guts out and have the cops on his ass in a minute."
Willy smiled knowingly and motioned to the bartender to refill their glasses. When he walked away again, Willy resumed his story.
"Not if the guy lived outside of town and was careful not to let anyone see him taking her there." He stared at his reflection in the mirror on the other wall. He twisted his mouth and rubbed his eye and then looked at Tom. His friend seemed to be pondering something and Willy cleared his throat.
"Come here a minute," Tom said, taking him by the arm and leading him to a far corner of the room. "Are you drunk? Do you know what you're saying?"
"I feel the booze but I know what I said," Willy assured him.
Tom scratched his head, frowned, then shook vigorously.
"Willy-your house-it's a bit outside of town, isn't it?"
Willy shook his head and grinned.
"The story-some guy told you-right?"
Willy didn't move.
"Willy-you can't mean that you-that you have a-a girl in your place and she's-uh-a prisoner?" he asked incredulously.
Willy leaned back against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. He was bubbling with excitement as he watched Tom's eyes flash in his head and beads of sweat pop on his skin. Tom raised his trembling hand and wiped his forehead.
"Tell me that you're kidding-there's no girl-you made it all up."
Wily shook his head slowly. He almost burst now as the words formed in his mind and he watched the look of disbelief slowly fade from his friend's face.
"What would you think if I told you that the guy in the story is me and I have the most beautiful-err-house guest you've ever laid eyes on."
Tom staggered back and held up both hands. He backed away and Willy stood up straight. He was angry with himself now for telling the man. The fool was frightened-that was evident.
"Stay right here," Tom stammered. "I'll get the whiskey and you stay right here."
Willy grinned again and sat in the empty booth. Tom came back with the bottle and glasses and filled them to the brim. He took his drink in his shaking hand and spilled some of the brown liquid, then gulped it down in one sip.
"Come on," he said. "Out with it. What have you got?"
Willy sat back with a satisfied look on his face and drank slowly. He let the whisky roll over his tongue and slide back to his throat. His throat bobbed when he swallowed.
"It's all true," he began absently. "The bus and the girl. I was already sitting in the middle when she got on. I was on my way back from my sister's place and this lovely creature gets on the bus and goes all the way back to the big seat. There were a few old ladies on the bus, but not enough people to worry about, so when we made a stop, I talked to the girl. The rest was easy."
Willy went on to tell Tom what had taken place, how they stayed together in the back of the bus until they got to town. The old driver left and then the bus wouldn't start. Willy asked the guy how long it would be before he would get rolling.
"He was a replacement driver so he didn't know the girl was supposed to get back on. I told her I would give the guy my number and she could come up to the house and eat. She believed me. I went over to the guy and asked him for the time. She thought I was telling him my number. When we got there, a sleeping pill in her drink did the trick-the rest you already know."
Tom took another big drink and sat back in his seat. He was sweating profusely, large drops rolling down his face.
"What's wrong, Tom? You don't look so good."
"I-I'm sitting here, listening to your story, and somehow I can't picture it-it's too much for me."
"Have another drink. You can believe me," Willy said. "Have another drink and relax. If you want me to prove it-" he watched his friend's eyes widen, "-you can come up and see when we've finished here."
Tom was fidgeting nervously in his seat. Willy smiled at his friend's confusion. He took another drink and filled Tom's glass, gestured toward it and then sipped his whiskey.
Tom raised the glass to his lips and spilled some of the drink on his hand and down his chin. His fingers shook uncontrollably and he set the thick glass back on the table. His chest puffed as he took a deep breath and leaned forward.
"All right. I may be nuts too, but this I've got to see," he whispered as his eyes followed the man behind the bar.
They got up and Willy retrieved his bag of groceries. Tom paid their bill and they said goodbye to the barman and walked out the door. The fat barman shook his head as he wiped the rings of water from the counter.
"Some storyteller," he remarked out loud and laughed.
CHAPTER SIX
The path that led through the wood was dark and Tom tripped a few times as he tried to keep up with Willy. It was quiet except for an occasional animal scooting away as the men approached and Tom felt the cold air on his neck and he shivered. He was beginning to wonder if Willy was telling the truth. He was a little afraid of his friend. Willy was beginning
Yes, it was fear.
Willy was now really beginning to show a side of himself that was strange to Tom. He remembered his friend as being quiet, good natured, and it was quite a shock for him to learn of the man's sadistic side. It seemed incredible that little Willy-strong, silent Willy-held a young girl prisoner in his big old house.
Willy stepped quickly and confidently along the path. He knew the way by heart and he didn't realize that Tom was having a hard time following until his friend called to him in a hushed voice.
"Take it easy, Willy. I can hardly see you."
Willy grinned to himself. He detected a tone of fear in Tom's voice and he felt his chest swell with a new feeling of superiority. Tom had always been looked up to-even when they were growing up, Tom always came out first. Well, not this time, Willy thought. It's my show this time.
"Hey," Tom called. "How far is your place? I don't remember walking all this way."
"Right here," Willy said, pointing to the huge black shadow that was barely visible through the trees.
They made their way between the bushes and stood on the firmly packed ground in front of Willy's house. He looked up to a second floor window and pointed. Tom squinted, but he didn't see anything and shrugged his shoulders as he followed Willy up the steps.
"Go in," Willy said, turning the lights on.
Tom walked in and waited while Willy locked the front door. He brushed past Tom and the living room was flooded with light. He set his package down and started for the stairs, then hesitated when Tom stood frozen in the middle of the room.
"What's wrong, Tom-got cold feet."
"No-I-look, do you have anything to drink here?"
Willy smiled again and went to get a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
"Not afraid, are you?" he asked Tom as he filled the glasses.
"No. I just wanted a drink before we go up," Tom retorted and gulped his whiskey.
"Then how come your hands are shaking so hard?"
Tom looked nervously at his hands and hid them between his legs. He grinned sheepishly and stood up.
"Let's go, Willy," he said.
Willy led the way up the steps. When they reached the landing, he turned right and stopped in front of a closed door.
"Let's break you in easy," Willy said. "Take a peek through the keyhole and tell me what you see."
Tom went to the door and glanced once more at Willy before putting one eye to the keyhole. His mouth dropped open and air hissed out of his lungs.
"Damn! You weren't kidding, were you, Willy? Damn!" he said in a hushed voice.
Joan was asleep or unconscious on the bed. The blanket had slipped down over her shoulders, baring the top of her heavy breasts. Tom could see that her hands were tied to either side of the bed. Her black hair was spread out around her face and he saw her skin gleaming in the light.
"Well-what do you have to say now?"
"Can I get a closer look?" Tom asked eagerly.
"Not so fast. Let's go back downstairs and have another drink. The girl needs rest. She's been through a lot-if you know what I mean."
They both laughed now and Tom slapped Willy on the back again and called him an old bear. They danced down the stairs and Willy spun in a circle and holding the bottle as he passed, splashed whiskey into Tom's glass. They whooped and hollered like two children and slugged big mouthfuls of whiskey. Willy was the first to feel the effects of the alcohol. He still hadn't eaten anything. His head danced and spun, racing ahead of his body and he lost his balance and crashed into a small table. Tom laughed. He held his belly and roared and Willy, angered at first, soon caught on and clucked his tongue and laughed.
Joan was awakened by the noise. When she opened her eyes, it took her a few moments to realize just where she was. Her hand went automatically toward her face, but the rope stopped her. She was aware of the pain in her arms, legs and shoulders. She pulled against the ropes even though she had no hope of breaking herself free. The voices and laughter were getting louder downstairs and Joan wondered who was with Willy. She cried out and the laughter stopped suddenly. Joan strained her ears, trying to catch a sound. It was too quiet now and she was getting nervous. The door hadn't slammed, so she knew that whoever was doing the laughing was still in the house.
"Surprise!" Willy burst into the room with his arms spread like a bird.
Tom lingered a moment in the doorway and grinned at Joan. She cringed when Willy yanked the blanket from her, leaving her naked under Tom's open-mouthed stare.
"Wowee! Now that's what I call a beauty," Tom cried and stepped closer to he bed. "Just look at this-look at this raving beauty."
Willy cackled proudly and dug his hands into his pockets. Tom was impressed as he drooled over the girl. He touched her hair and she twisted her head. He held his hand over her for a moment, then lowered it onto her breasts. She squirmed and twisted her torso, trying to get away from his leathery fingers as they scratched her white flesh. He squeezed her nipple until the look of pain shot across her face. She gritted her teeth, determined not to cry out. Tom felt her breasts and slid his rough hands down over her flat belly, grinding her flesh until she winced. He scratched her thighs and she tried to kick but the ropes held her down.
Tom grinned at her and bent over to kiss one of her tender, pink nipples. She felt his mouth on her, teasing her nipple and she bent her head and spit at him.
"Why you little-" Tom stood up and rubbed the spittle from his cheek. "Willy-did you see that? You going to let her do that to me?" he said indignantly, and staggered drunkenly.
Willy didn't say a word. He turned and went to the closet and came back with the long, black whip and handed it to Tom.
Tom took it and stared at it as if it was a snake in his hand. He looked at Willy, then back at the whip and finally at Joan, squirming on the bed. Her eyes were pleading but her lips were pressed tightly together.
"You bitch! I'll teach you," he shouted and swung the leather.
It whistled over his head and slashed across Joan's stomach. He hit harder than Willy and the burning pain spread through her belly and breasts. After the initial blow, Tom became more confident and although he still weaved unsteadily on his feet, he whipped the leather across her body with quick, short strokes. Joan cried out for mercy but the more she screamed, the harder he lashed at her until Willy grabbed his wrist.
They looked at her flesh, streaked with red welts. Willy took his clothes off and stood with fire burning in his eyes. His cock was huge and its purple head pulsed as the blood rushed in his veins. His head throbbed at the sight of Joan's heaving belly. He climbed up onto the bed, kneeled between her outstretched thighs and with an animal cry, rammed the head of his swollen cock into her cunt. It seared her tender lips and she jerked spasmodically as he pushed up into her. His cock sank deep inside of her belly and Tom watched in amazement as his friend gorged her cunt and she twisted and writhed, crying out for mercy. Willy raged inside of her, pumping with all of his strength and Joan twisted against the tormenting cock that ripped her flesh, burning her tender lips. Willy hammered furiously inside of her, battering with all of his strength between her thighs. He gripped the flesh of her thighs, digging his fingers in deep and howled like an animal. Tom watched his body shuddering as he shot into the girl, writhing on the bed.
Tom was aware that his own prick was straining against the material of his pants. He opened his fly and pulled it out, jerking the loose flesh back and forth. It was like a dream-a nightmare-and he was taking an active part. Something snapped in his head and he dropped the whip, pulled his clothes off and dove onto the screaming girl. Willy was forced back by Tom's weight. He jumped angrily from the bed and grabbed the cat tails, spun them over his head and lashed the thongs across Joan's breasts. She arched her back, stiffened, then fell back as Tom groped over her whole body, raking her with his nails and tearing her flesh. It burned and she screamed again until her voice and her throat ached. Tom was grinding his knees into her belly and she sucked her breath in. He punched her thighs and at first it hurt so badly that she thought she would pass out, but after a few crushing blows, her muscles were numb.
Willy was busy untying her feet. She was aware of the rope being loosened but her feet wouldn't move. She strained upward but Tom pushed her face back with the open palm of his hand. His cock was stiff and horny and Joan gaped in horror. It looked even bigger than Willy's huge rod. Tom was grunting and kneading her flesh. He kissed her nipples, belly and thighs and she saw his chin gleaming with wetness as he raised his head and howled. He took his huge cock and slid it into her. Fire shot up into her belly. She knew that she couldn't take it all but Tom pressed into her and slid upward, stretching the lips of her cunt as he pushed.
"I can't-take it out-please! I'll die with that huge thing in me. Can't you see it's going to rip me apart?"
Tom grinned crazily and lunged again as he stared into her eyes. He seemed to delight in her face as it twisted in a painful grimace and she rolled to the side and groaned deep in her throat. Tom pushed as hard as he could and watched his thick cock slip in another inch. Finally he felt her against the head of his prick. He pushed again, but it wouldn't go in any further.
Willy, standing quietly by and watching the whole thing, laughed loudly now as he recognized Tom's predicament. He held on to his belly and roared drunkenly. Tom shot an angry look at him.
"Okay. I'll show you both," he growled.
"Hey. What the hell are you doing?" Willy screamed as Tom untied Joan's wrists. He turned her over roughly and she fell flat on her stomach. Too exhausted to move, she let Tom open her legs. He glared at the tight brown muscle of her ass, took his prick in his right hand and rammed it forward, splitting her ass open. She jerked and cried out but he didn't give up, pressing forward with a grunt until the head of his cock disappeared in her ass. He sat up and tried to catch his breath as Joan whined under him. Then he leaned forward again and forced his swollen cock in another inch, using his whole weight.
Willy wanted to help now. He got behind Tom and pushed with both palms against the man's ass. Tom felt his cock slide in another inch and Joan stiffened under him and cried out sharply.
"Oh please-please don't. It hurts so bad-I can't take it-please."
But Tom was at least halfway inside of her now and he pushed with a new determination as Willy shoved from behind. Her buttocks were stretched taut and covered with gleaming sweat and with a final lunge, he sank deeper and his whole cock disappeared inside of her.
Joan let out a high-pitched scream and beat her fists on the mattress. She sobbed and pleaded for him to take his cock out of her. She said it was killing her, that she felt blood. She said the muscle was ripped apart, but Tom didn't care. He tried to pull his prick out, but the suction made it almost as difficult as pushing it in. He pulled hard, jerking his torso back and now he slid a bit easier. Each time he moved, Joan squirmed beneath him and sent electric sparks into his prick. Willy still pushed from behind but Tom didn't need assistance any longer and forced his friend's hands away. He pumped into her ass, watching the muscle tense and stretch and tiny flecks of blood appear on the shaft of his prick. He rammed hard now and Joan gasped as his prick wedged her buttocks apart. The sight of her blood drove him into a frenzy and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lay his chest on her back and rode in and out of her until his weight crushed her and she fell forward onto the mattress. The fall tightened her buttocks and Tom felt new thrills as he slid in and out and soon the blood boiled in his cock and he felt himself explode in thick spurts, shooting his sperm into her heaving ass and he dropped onto her again. Joan was panting beneath him, trying to catch her breath. She knew that if she didn't move, the man would stay there resting on top of her and Willy wouldn't be able to do a thing. If she wasn't so tired, she thought, she could make a run for it. But her mind was swimming with pain and she closed her eyes as a sob caught in her throat. She was doomed. Of that fact she was sure-as sure as she'd ever been about anything before.
"You're going to kill her," Willy shouted and pulled at his friend. Tom raised his head and smiled contentedly. He rose slowly from the sobbing girl and stepped onto the floor. His cock was limp, but in spite of that, was still bigger than Willy's hard prick. They looked at each other, then at Joan, who was shuddering on the bed. Willy scratched his head.
"Fuck it," he said. "Let's go downstairs and have another drink."
"Why don't you get the bottle and bring it here?"
Willy scratched his head again and walked away. He ambled through the door and went downstairs. Tom watched Joan as she lay quietly now. He bent over her and touched her heavy buttocks, rubbed the soft flesh and ran his fingers between the tense mounds. Joan stiffened as she felt his hand on her again and turned to face him. Tom smiled and reached for her breasts, kneading them as she twisted away from his grasp. He climbed onto the bed and grabbed at her but she turned and fell on one knee on the floor. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him dive at her and catch her around the neck. They tumbled across the wooden floor and Tom wrapped his legs around her stomach and squeezed until she gasped for air. He rolled her over on her back now and sat on her stomach. She cringed at the sight of his huge cock, lolling on her stomach, and soon the head reddened and the flesh thickened. Tom's cock was long and thick, reaching almost to her breasts. She tried to inch away from it as it slithered across her flesh, but Tom held her firmly between his legs. He laughed drunkenly and pulled her by the hair. Her face was still too far away and he inched forward until his cock was between her breasts. Joan's skin was still gleaming from the rubdown that Willy had given her and now Tom realized that her skin was slippery. He pushed her breasts together, trapping his cock between the nipples, and hunched his ass. He pumped slowly between the soft mounds of her breasts, rasped her nipples and watched them stand rigid as his burning, bulbous cock rubbed hard. He felt the sensations crackling in his cock and Joan threw her head back, bit her lips and pressed her fist against her mouth to hold back the cry in her throat.
Tom was pumping faster now between the shiny globes of her breasts and his balls moved under him; he stiffened and came in short spurts over her breasts, covering her pink nipples with gleaming white sperm. He rubbed the head of his exhausted prick in his own cream, got to his knees and trailed his cock across her breasts, touched each stiffened nipple and then ran the burning, shiny head over her tightly closed lips. He slapped her hard across the face and her eyes opened, her hand flew up automatically, and she stared at the prick hanging over her as it began to shrink.
"Lick it," he whispered huskily. "Lick it or I'll get that whip again."
The thought of the lash tearing her flesh again terrified Joan and she opened her mouth. Tom stuffed his slippery cock into her lips and sat back on her chest. He let out a long deep sigh as his cock bathed in her warm saliva. It felt wonderful and he stirred again, squirming his buttocks on her chest. His cock began to stiffen. It was getting bigger now and soon filled Joan's mouth. She tried to pull away slightly but Tom, thinking that she was trying to get away, slapped her across the face again.
"You asked for it, sweetie," he said.
He rose over her on all fours now with his thick red cock still in her mouth. His legs straddled her face and he looked down at her and began to slide in and out of her stretched lips. Joan gagged as the burning head of his cock rammed against the back of her mouth. She was stuffed full, her tongue pressed down, and she moaned on his flesh as it pushed in and out. It was throbbing and she could feel the thick blue veins swelling with blood.
Tom watched her face as his cock impaled her mouth, pumping furiously until the feel of her tight lips running over his prick stiffened his body. His legs shuddered and he poured his hot fluid into her gulping mouth. She coughed and choked as he pulled out of her and a few drops of shiny liquid ran down a corner of her mouth. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and looked away as Tom grinned at her.
He stood on shaky legs, wobbled across the room and met Willy at the door. He was carrying a full bottle of whiskey and Tom grabbed it out of his hand, twisted the cap and tipped the bottle to his mouth.
"Ahhh," he said, wiping his face. "I needed that. Man, what a broad you have there. I have to hand it to you Willy, you know how to pick them. This one is going to kill me if I'm not careful." He laughed loudly and took another drink from the bottle. Willy staggered as Tom slapped him on the back. His skin reddened and he shot an angry look at his friend.
"Save that for her," he said and pointed to Joan.
She was huddled on the floor, knees pulled up to her belly. Willy glared at her heavy, round buttocks and licked his lips. He could see the tiny dark spot deep inside the furrow and he rubbed his belly and reached for the bottle. The liquid gurgled and bubbled in the bottle as he turned it upside down and sucked
"Hey, don't drink it all," Tom said indignantly, "save some for me."
Willy passed the bottle to Tom and eyed Joan again. His cock stood stiffly in front of him and he lined up the boiling head with her shiny buttocks. Joan lay still on the floor and glanced up at him through her fine hair. She brushed a few strands out of her eyes and watched his face.
Willy moved toward her and she slid back, drawing her knees in tighter. He could see the puckered brown muscle of her ass and his cock ached as he closed in on her and she slid back. He bent over her and grabbed her hair but Joan surprised him by slapping his hand away and crawling until she was against the wall.
Willy grinned drunkenly and went to the other side of the bed where the whip lay. He picked it up and went back to the cringing girl. Her eyes strained at the sight of the leather thongs dangling loosely at his side. She started to raise her hand but it was too late, the whip slashed across her tender buttocks, leaving nine red lines across her flesh. She cried out and held up both hands as Willy lashed her repeatedly with the whip. Her legs wouldn't hold her as she got up, held on to the edge of the bed and the leather whistled across her back thighs. She fell across the mattress and Willy lashed her hard on the buttocks and drooled at the sight of the two plump mounds, quivering each time the thongs whipped her. She was sobbing quietly, holding on to the mattress as Willy came up behind her and lifted her torso onto the bed. She felt his cock force its way between her tense buttocks, then slice up into her and she arched her back as the burning flesh tore into her.
Willy pressed against her back and pumped into her, hammering at her buttocks. He delighted in the slap of his body against hers, and now he rode her hard.
Tom watched from the other side of the room as he gulped big mouthfuls of whiskey. The look of pain that spread across Joan's face excited him and he felt his cock stiffening again. He walked over to the bed and stood behind Willy, who was pounding away inside of Joan's ass, tearing her tight muscle with each forward thrust. Tom's cock stood out rigidly and the head was pulsing and throbbing as the blood raced inside of him. He looked at his friend's balls slapping against Joan's white legs and he grinned.
"Hold it," he said and tugged at Willy. Willy was reluctant to stop and kept riding Joan's ass. His friend pulled the girl's head back by the hair and forced the two of them back away from the bed. Joan was standing up now with Willy's thick cock in her ass. It stretched her muscle and the pain ripped through her. Now Tom took his huge cock and forced her legs apart, inserting his swollen cock between the pink lips of her tortured cunt, and pushing up hard. She felt it ramming up into her, filling her to the breaking point until her feet left the ground and she stood on her toes. Tom put his arms under hers and squeezed. Willy, realizing what his friend was doing, wound his arms around her slender waist and held tight. Now they jerked the girl's body up and down on their cocks and she cried out in agony. They were burying their burning pricks deeper with each downward thrust and Joan felt every fiber in her body being tortured. Willy's cock battered against Tom's. They jerked her faster, pulling up and down together, and Willy let out a moan. Tom arched up higher and they both exploded in fiery bursts of fluid, filling her ass and her cunt with lava. She twisted hard between the two men as they squeezed the breath out of her. She felt their fluid streaming down her legs. It was hot and sticky and she wanted to crawl out of her skin.
The two men released her then and she fell exhausted onto the bed. Willy slapped her buttocks playfully and Tom rubbed his sticky cock over her. She cringed at their touch.
"She's had it," Tom observed. He stretched his arms over his hear and yawned. "I think I have too. What do you say we have something to eat and another drink downstairs? I'd like to rest up a bit."
They tied Joan to the bed again and went downstairs. Tom took a bath while Willy busied himself putting things away, stacking the cans of food he had purchased. He smiled as Tom began singing in the bath at the top of his lungs for all the world to hear.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Joan could hear the two men laughing downstairs as she lay on the bed. Tom and Willy had shut the light this time before they left, and Joan stared at the darkness. When the laughter died down, she could almost hear her own thoughts, whispering in the empty room. She pulled at the ropes again. Maybe Willy hadn't tied her so tightly this time, she thought, but after feeling the rope bite her wrists, she decided that maybe he wasn't so drunk after all.
She closed her eyes and a tear escaped, rolled over her cheek and down to her jaw. From there, it dropped onto the mattress and spread quickly on the cotton cover, making a gray stain. She sighed and her whole body shuddered. It wasn't cold in the room, but every bone, every muscle ached and her skin was on fire from the whip lashes. She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard to keep from crying. It wouldn't do any good. She tried to think of other things-her home and the school. Terry came into her mind and she wondered what he was doing right that minute as she lay tied to a bed somewhere.
She fought desperately, trying not to think of what was going to happen to her when Willy and his friend tired of her. They certainly couldn't let her go. They wouldn't trust her to wander around and tell everyone what had happened. That would be the first thing she would do if she got out of the place-run to the nearest police station and see that Willy got what he deserved. But how could she get out? Willy was mad, of that she was sure. How could you get a madman to listen? She had tried everything, but words didn't work on him.
Then, as she lay there thinking, a crazy idea came into her head. Supposing, she thought, I were to take the element of pleasure out of their torture. If I began acting like I was enjoying it, they wouldn't get their thrill and maybe it would kill it for them-no. That was a stupid idea. That would mean that they wouldn't have any use for her any longer and who knows what-am I losing my mind, she thought. Act like I enjoy being tortured. I think I'm going crazy here.
She twisted as hard as she could, but the ropes wouldn't give and she settled back to rest. It was no use trying to escape now anyway. She couldn't even stand up. Her flesh burned and her muscles were sore. Her breasts had been raked until blood showed and her buttocks were on fire. She was thirsty and swallowed hard, feeling her dry tongue thick in her mouth.
Willy's laugh rang through the empty house and she frowned at the thought of him being so great while she was up here, tied down like an animal. Rest, she kept telling herself. Rest now and maybe tomorrow-maybe there would be a chance to get away...
"Have another drink," Willy said and passed the bottle of whiskey to Tom. Tom's throat bobbed as he swallowed. He slammed the bottle down on the table and coughed.
They were sitting at the wooden table in the dining room. Willy had fixed some sandwiches and they both devoured the pile in a few minutes. Tom was sitting in an old robe of Willy's and he looked washed out, tired from his escapade. He smoothed his shiny black hair back with the palm of his hand, but it fell right back in his face.
"I never figured me for this," he said quietly.
"What's that?"
Tom pointed toward the ceiling.
"The girl. I had heard of things like this before-been in a lot of nutty situations with women too, but I never thought I'd be taking part in torture."
"So what? She loves it. You can see that she loves every minute of it. Why else would she have given in to me on the bus-practically threw herself on me-then followed me here like rabbit. I tell you, she loves it as much as we do. I can see it in her eyes-every time I hit her, there's a crazy kind of spark in her eyes."
"Hold it, Willy," Tom said firmly. "You don't really believe that, do you? Why, the girl is scared silly. She tries to get away every time you or I go near her. She didn't get those rope burns on her wrists and ankles from laying still while you whipped her."
Willy's eyes were on fire and he stuck his chin out and hissed at Tom.
"You chickening out? Don't want no more part of it? You can tell me if you're scared. I'll understand."
"Hold it, Willy. Don't get me wrong. I mean it that way."
"How did you mean it?" he asked bitterly.
"It's a little different, to say the least. I've never thought about things like this before. Sure, you hear things, read about it in the papers but I never thought that I would be taking part in it." He took another long drink from the bottle, settling back in his chair. "But it's okay. I'm sorry I didn't find out sooner how much fun it could be. And don't get me wrong. I know what you mean when you say she-likes it. I'm not blind, either. I can see how she twists and turns and I think she even came the last time I got her. How about you?"
Willy sucked the last of the whiskey from the bottle and rose from his chair. He went to the living room and returned with a fresh bottle, opened it and took a drink. He handed the bottle to his friend and sat down in his chair. Neither of them spoke for a long time and Tom began fidgeting in his chair. He played with a corner of the bathrobe, flipping the cloth back and forth. He spotted a red mark on his knees and at first, he thought he saw blood but on closer inspection, saw that it was only a bruise.
"Floor sure is hard," he said, trying to break the silence.
Willy looked with a blank expression on his face and nodded slowly. He didn't really hear what Tom had said. His mind was swimming with thoughts of Joan, her firm breasts and slim waist. Her pretty face and the two plump mounds of her ass, crisscrossed with the red marks of his whip. He grinned to himself and Tom smiled back, thinking his friend was acknowledging his remark about the hard floor.
The silence was thickening in the room and
Tom was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. He crossed and re-crossed his legs under the edge of the table and coughed. He took the bottle again and held it up to the light, watched the tiny globe shine bright yellow and spread its rays throughout the liquid, dissecting the whiskey into triangular shaped sections. Dark lines swirled dreamily in the bottle and Tom tipped the neck and touched it to his lips. It was warm but good and soothed his tired muscles. He slammed it down on the table and looked at his fingers, curled around the neck. He let his hand slide down over the bottle and rest on the table, then realizing what he had done, jerked his hand away.
"I went to this broad's house once to sell some insurance. She was a widow and..."
"You already told that one," Willy interrupted.
"No. This is a different one than I told you." He paused for a moment and took another drink. "No. This one was younger. Not beautiful-you know," he said, waving his hand, "-but attractive. Nice set of tits, almost as nice as the one upstairs. Anyway, I make an appointment with her and she insists I come at night. Claims the kids will interrupt every five minutes and she wants to concentrate. Well, much as I hate night appointments, I tell her I'll be over about eight." He stopped and took another long drink from the bottle, then continued. "Anyway, when I get there, the house looks dark and I'm really mad but I ring the bell anyhow. A big dog started barking inside and I thought to hell with that. I'm not going to get chewed up for a lousy contract. I start to walk away when the door opens and this broad is standing there. Hello, she says and smiles. A real flasher. I could see that she had a low cut dress. And when I say low cut-I mean all the way down to here," he said, pointing to his navel. "So I go back and she tells me to come right in. But I'm scared of the dog and she says it's okay. He won't bother me. Well, I was a little leery of the dog but when I went in, he starts licking my hand. Okay, pooch, I told him, be a good dog and lay down-and he lays down! He's fully trained, the broad says and tells me to have a seat in the living room while she fixes us a drink. Wow! What a way to start off. The house was dead quiet and only one lamp was lit in the whole place. I tripped on a chair but finally found the couch. Well, the broad comes back with two cool ones and smiles. You sure are a good looking man, she says. I'll bet you have a lot of lady friends. Anyway, I take out all the papers and spread them on the couch and she sits across from me and I notice that it isn't even a dress she's got on-it's some kind of night gown. Real filmy material-like lace and when she leans over to look at the papers-wham! those tits flopped out and two red nipples stared me right in the eye. She notices and says, Oh, excuse me, and smiles. But she lets those two beauties hang right out and I thought that maybe she belched or something and I didn't hear. Anyway, it was pretty tough keeping my mind on the business and all the while those two luscious, round tits are hanging in my face practically and the dog is panting next to her, looking right at me. Another drink? she asks. I was so hot, I slugged the whole thing down at once and I say okay and she gets up. As she passes by, I could see this dim patch on her dress-or gown and after she leaves, it hits me! You could see right through that material. . .
"She comes back and stands over me and those lovely tits are still there and one of them grazes my ear. I swear! She must have done it on purpose because she just stood there next to me and smiled.
"Well anyway, I don't have to tell you that I realized this broad's game and I take a quick drink, put the glass on the coffee table and put my arm around her waist. She melts all over me. I swear! She was all tits and nipples and tongue all over my face at one time and her hands pulled my shirt apart before I could get my mouth on her and then she's pulling my fly open! It was so fast that I didn't have time to think. It couldn't have been two minutes before we were both stark naked on the couch and the broad is moaning and groaning and sucking my tongue and the hot tits are rubbing all over me-those beautiful hard nipples sliding over my chest and belly and then my stiff cock and she kisses my prick and then I was ready. I pushed her on the couch but she fights me-insists that I have to get on the bottom so I shrug my shoulders. What the hell do I care how I fuck her as long as I fuck her? So I lay down and the dog's watching with his stupid tongue hanging out and then this luscious broad straddles my cock and lowers that beautiful fuzzy black cunt onto it and I'm telling you-it was so hot and slippery and sweet that I wanted to tear my hair out. She sat on it and pulled up real slow and I could feel those educated lips sucking my cock. She was a snapper. First time in my life I was ever with a broad that had a snapping pussy. Well, anyway, she starts pumping like a wild woman and I have all I can do to keep from blowing up right then. I don't want to concentrate on something else-this broad's too beautiful with those luscious nipples dangling in my face and the smell of her body, all perfume and sweat and musky cunt. Anyway, she's fucking like crazy and all of a sudden she stops. Just like that-just when it was getting real good-she stops. And what next, I wonder. But she wasn't going to keep me waiting long-not this broad. She looks at the dog standing by the couch watching us and says, fuck Rex, or whatever the hell his name was. It don't make any difference anyway. This Rex, or whatever, jumps up on the couch and I can't believe my eyes. He's got a cock almost as big as mine except that it's got this sharp point on the end and it's cherry red. So this Rex, climbs up on her back and I can feel him stepping on my legs while he's trying to get his cock in her ass. She starts wiggling and moving back and forth trying to help the dog get his cock in her ass and I'm laying under her dumbfounded! I mean, what do you do in a case like that? Do you keep on like nothing's happening or get up and let the dog have it first, or hit the broad or what?"
"Well-what did you do?" Willy said.
"What could I do? I stayed where I was and enjoyed the ride. Man, that woman was something. Her cunt slid over me like a tight sleeve of velvet cloth, smooth and slippery and every time that dog pushed his pointed cock into her ass, she howled like an animal. The dog was panting and slobbering all over her and clawing at that beautiful flesh, smooth and glowing in the dark and finally he came in her ass and she howled again. Then we set down to business. I turned her over and banged away at her snapper and she twisted and groaned while I pumped and squeezed her hard breasts and all of a sudden she lets out a scream and twists like crazy and I feel her coming hard and she shivers all over and lets go. So now I'm alone in the saddle and riding for the horizon and I feel it all over me, tingling and tearing me apart and I gush into her like a water fall. It was great. She let me stay in her and she even played with my balls. Next thing I know her finger is tickling my ass and at first, I didn't like it but she tells me to relax and-well it didn't feel so bad until I feel this hot breath on my back. I turn around and look that big hound right in the eye. His cock was hard all over again and the broad takes her finger away and the dog tries to hop on my back. Anyway, that was too much. I got up right away and the dog wouldn't leave me alone-kept jumping up on me until the broad hollered at him and locked him up."
"What happened next?" Willy said.
"Happen? Wasn't that enough? What did you expect-I couldn't stay with that dog in the house. He was howling in that room and the broad is sitting there still naked and we're kissing and she's rubbing my cock and then she says, excuse me. I've got to take care of him or I won't get any peace for the rest of the night. I got dressed after a while. I could just picture that dog on top of her again. What a waste."
Willy was yawning and Tom took another drink. It was a short one this time. He felt tired and asked Willy where they were going to sleep.
"With all the rooms in this place, I don't have anything set up. I usually sleep on the couch. There are some blankets in the linen closet. Maybe we can fix something on the floor."
"The floor?" Tom asked indignantly. "Okay-okay. You sleep on the couch and I'll sleep on the couch."
The house was dark now and the two men slept peacefully downstairs while above them Joan twisted and turned in her cell.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Joan slept fitfully. The last thing she remembered was the sound of the two men downstairs, laughing very loud. Then there was a quiet shuffling noise and soon, the big house was silent except for the old dry creak of the timbers. She closed her eyes then and fell asleep again and didn't wake up until the first gray light of the new day slanted into the room.
She opened her eyes and stared at the blank ceiling for a moment. She didn't remember exactly where she was until she tried to move. Her legs ached and her flesh was still very sensitive from the beatings she had received the day before. And when she moved her hands-she found that her right wrist had somehow come loose. The rope was still wound around her but the loops were slack and she pulled her hand out. Quickly, she untied herself and sat on the edge of the bed. Her head spun dizzily and she had to stay still for a moment to steady herself. Finally, afraid that the two men would wake up, she went to the window and tried the sash. It lifted easily. Elated, Joan took the old blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself as best she could. She was shaking all over as she stepped out onto the porch roof but more from fear and the excitement than from the crisp cold air. She stepped quickly across the roof, ignored the rasping pebbles of the shingles as they scratched her feet. She found that by sitting on the edge of the roof, turning onto her belly, she could put her feet against one of the supporting posts. She threw the blanket to the ground then proceeded to climb down onto the porch railing. Soundlessly, she dropped to the ground, stayed in a crouch for a few seconds and waited to hear Willy's cries from the house. But the only noise she could hear was the twittering of the birds in the trees around the house. She scooped up the blanket, wrapped it around herself again and set off at a slow run for the tree line to one side of the house.
The wood was cold and damp and Joan stepped on a dead twig and her leg almost gave way from the sharp pain. She kneaded the foot then walked again toward the thick underbrush. She had one idea in her head; get away from the house as quickly as possible. She didn't look back as she crashed through brush, and feeling the branches and thorns scratching her legs and arms, she huddled inside of the flimsy blanket.
It was very cold and soon, Joan had to stop to catch her breath. She looked around and saw nothing but trees. The path should be somewhere near here, she thought. But there wasn't a clearing in sight. Tired and hungry, cold and in pain, Joan stopped near a fallen tree. She smoothed the broken pieces of twigs and leaves from one side of the log and arranging the blanket to cover her whole body, huddled on one side of the trunk. If Willy were to follow, she could hear him crashing through the brush. She would have plenty of time to hide.
Her body heated the small, tent like shelter she had prepared and she was comfortable enough for a while. But her eyes kept closing. She was so tired-so tired-the words kept repeating in her head but she slapped her face until it tingled. Flushed red and warm, Joan felt wide awake again.
Nearby, an animal crashed through the tall weeds and Joan jumped up. Her eyes darted back and forth, covering her whole field of vision. Her mouth was dry and her throat felt tight-closed and her chest heaved under the blanket. But then a deer appeared in the trees, saw Joan a short distance away and ran off in the opposite direction. Joan smiled to herself. She decided that it was no good staying there. It was too close to the house. She had to find the path if she was to get away. It would not be too long before Willy would find out that she had escaped.
The woods seemed to be getting thicker and the going tougher. Joan's feet were bleeding and she was beginning to feel weak. She realized that she hadn't eaten for some time-exactly how long, she couldn't quite remember and the combination of hunger and exhaustion soon made her stop.
She looked around. The spot was dark. The light still hadn't filtered through the dense growth of brush and she thought it would be a good spot to curl up and rest. Besides, she hadn't walked a straight line from the house and she knew that the two men wouldn't be sure which direction she had actually taken. They might even think that she found the path.
To one side of the thick green bush, a tree had fallen. It formed a perfect roof and she pushed the thin branches aside. Underneath, the ground was smooth, covered with a soft bed of moss and Joan crawled inside and rearranged the bush so that it covered her completely. She lay back under the blanket and closed her eyes. The air was fresh and calm and Joan listened to the quiet songs of the birds all around her.
"What's that I smell?" Tom raised himself on his elbow and blinked his eyes. He had slept good and now his head was a bit fuzzy from the whiskey. He rubbed his eyes with his fist and shook his head. "What is that you're making Willy?"
"Some eggs and bacon. It will be ready in a minute and the coffee is finished. So get your dead ass out of there and let's eat."
They sat down at the table and Tom began to stuff his mouth full of egg as soon as the plate was set down in front of him. He emptied his cup in one swallow and held it out for more. "Willy-you would make a good wife for someone."
Willy threatened him with the pot and smiled. "Just eat and shut up."
They were finished in no time and Tom felt like a new man. He helped clear the table and went into the kitchen. Willy started cooking more eggs.
"You still hungry?" Tom asked curiously.
Willy stared at him for a moment as he took the eggs from the pan and put them on a plate.
"She has to eat too. I don't go for starving people-that's my limit."
Tom laughed sarcastically and watched his friend from the corner of his eye. Willy took a slice of bread and set it on top of the eggs then walked out of the room. Tom heard him on the stairs. He spotted the whiskey on a shelf and took a quick swig. Just as he was putting the top back on the bottle, Willy let out a roar. Tom replaced the bottle quickly, wiped his hands and rubbed his lips.
"Tom!" Willy shouted from the top of the stairs. "Tom-come here quick."
Tom ran into the living room and stopped at the bottom of the steps. Willy was half way down and still holding the plate in his hand.
"Did you hear anything last night-any kind of noise?"
"No-Why?"
Willy scratched his head.
"She's gone-that's why. The girl isn't in her room."
Tom stiffened involuntarily. The girl was gone. It didn't seem possible that she could have gotten the ropes off.
"Are you sure?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Willy snapped as he came down the steps. "Do you think I'm blind?"
"Maybe she's just hiding," Tom said, not wanting to believe that the girl had escaped. "Did you look in the closet? How about under the bed?"
"Come on!" Willy shouted as he ran past Tom. "Let's get our coats on and start looking. I hope she didn't get far."
They stood in front of the house and looked in every direction. There had to be some clue as to where she went and Willy was determined to cover the place with a fine tooth comb. They circled the house and looked for footprints in the dust, any clue to which way she went.
"I don't see a thing," Tom said, scratching his head. "Do you suppose she took the path."
Willy stood still for a moment and cocked his head to one side as if listening to something. Tom looked around for the source of the noise that he didn't hear.
"Nope. She didn't take the path."
"How can you be so sure?" Tom said.
"If that girl had taken the path, she would have gotten into town and if she had, someone would be up here now asking questions."
"But we don't know how long she's been gone."
"The bed was ice cold. She must be gone a good while. Although the window was wide open-"
Tom looked really worried then. He frowned and deep lines crossed his face as he spoke.
"Willy. You know these woods. We've got to find that girl before somebody else does or she wanders into town. What are we going to do?"
"Let me think a minute," he said.
Willy stood quiet for what seemed an eternity to Tom. He scratched his chin, rubbing the tips of his fingers across the gray and black stubble.
"Let's go."
"Go where? Where the hell are we going now?"
"Don't get yourself all worked up!" Willy shouted. "We got to keep our heads about this thing. It's going to be close work, searching all them woods," he explained, taking in the surrounding woods with a broad sweep of his hand. "So let me get some rope and we're going to comb them woods."
They walked along the edge of the road and found nothing. Tom was getting very nervous. Each time they stopped, he huffed loudly and threw his arms in the air, flapping them like bird wings.
"We aren't getting anywhere," he observed. "Quiet," Willy ordered. "I think I got an idea."
Tom watched his friend walk away toward the house. He followed after a moment, still flapping his arms in the air and muttering to himself. He wondered, now that he was sober, how he had allowed himself to get into this situation and was about to tell Willy that he wanted no part of it when his friend turned and stared at him.
"Come here," Willy said.
Tom walked over to him and Willy took his arm and turned him toward the house. He could see the old, yellowed curtain blowing in the window of the room where Joan had been.
"There's the window. Now, obviously, the girl climbed down one of these posts. I'd say she was pretty scared and came down this one," he said, indicating the nearest beam. "She probably hit the ground right here, where we're standing. Right?" Tom nodded. "So what would be the next logical conclusion? She was scared and probably made a bee line for them trees," he said and pointed straight ahead at the tree line.
"Willy," Tom said with a broad grin. "You are a genius. What do we do now?"
"Let's go find her," Willy said and started out towards the trees.
They entered the brush at almost the same place that Joan had stepped into earlier. Willy was leading Tom and they groped through the thick bushes and Willy looked at everything within range for a clue, branches, leaves and the ground. But if there were any footprints, they were concealed in the brush. The tall weeds snapped back as the men crashed through and finally, Willy stopped. He looked around again in the dampness hanging low and put a finger to his lips.
"What's the matter? You hear something?"
"No. Nothing but animals but you're making a hell of a racket. Try to walk a little quieter. If she's still around here, you'll scare her away."
They walked a bit further until they came to the log where Joan had rested. Willy looked around but he didn't see anything unusual. He sat on the log and motioned to Tom.
"Might as well take a little rest. She can't get too far in this stuff and don't forget-she doesn't have anything except that old blanket. She hasn't eaten either, so she's probably too tired to go very fast."
"How the hell did I get into this?" Tom said loud. "I must have been out of my mind to come to your place. When you told me about the girl, I didn't believe it-I should have left it at that."
Willy's face flushed deep red. His eyes narrowed to two slits and his lower lip twitched nervously. He pounded one thick fist into the flat palm of his other hand and glared at Tom.
"Fact is-you are here. You had an awful good time-I was watching you last night. You really had a good time and now you want out. Now that things don't look so funny any more-you want out. Well that's tough. That's what I call too bad-because you're in this up to your ears and there ain't a thing you can do about it-except shut your mouth and help find that girl."
Tom looked hard for a moment. He wanted to smash that smug look on Willy's face but he held himself back as his body tensed for action. It wouldn't do any good. Anyway, Willy was right, he thought. I am in this all the way and there isn't much choice. But it all seemed like a crazy nightmare-last night, the girl and now this. ...
"Okay Willy. You win. But let's not sit around here too long. I don't trust that girl.
She might stumble onto someone.
"Not-likely out here," Willy said flatly "But it's a good idea to get going."
They trampled through the brush again and once, when a small animal skittered through the grass, Willy thought they had Joan. He stopped his friend and they advanced stealthily toward the spot where the noise had come from. Tom's nerves were stretched to the breaking point as he stood there, listening to his own breath. He watched Willy as he walked slowly toward something that Tom couldn't see. He strained his eyes and tried to catch a glimpse of something-the thing that drew Willy further away. Finally, the man stopped. He cocked his head again and Tom held his breath for fear of distracting Willy. But Willy only shook his head and walked back with heavy steps. His arms dangled at his sides as he walked up to Tom and scratched his head.
"I don't know. Must have been an animal of some kind. Could have sworn it was her though."
"What the hell are we going to do now?" Tom was beginning to panic. The prospect of Joan finding people and reporting what happened to the police didn't make him feel very much like laughing. He could picture himself sitting in a cold, dark cell in some lonely prison for the rest of his life. Rest of my life! he thought.
"What's the matter with you?" Willy shouted. "Try and get hold of yourself or you won't be good to either of us. Now let's go. I have an idea that we're headed in the right direction."
Tom followed a few feet behind Willy. He was depressed, disgusted with the whole thing and he had half a mind to turn back, with or without Willy and go to town, explain the whole thing...
Hold it!" Willy said in a hushed voice and crouched low.
He was staring in the direction of a fallen tree. Half the trunk was buried in thick green foliage. Tom couldn't see a thing but as he walked close to Willy, his friend motioned for him to get down.
"What is it?"
Willy stretched his arm out straight in front of his eye and tried to make a direct line for Tom's eyes to follow. He was looking over the fallen tree into a clump of bushes where a deer was feeding. Willy could only see the small white tail but from the distance, it was difficult to make out what it was.
"You see it up there? A white flash could have been skin. An arm, leg or shoulder. Who knows. Anyway-we've got to find out."
"Okay, Willy. Let's get it over with. We'll rush her."
They stood up and broke into a run at the same time. Willy was ahead of Tom. He headed straight for the fallen tree, figuring that he could jump the thing easily. The wood crashed up ahead of them and Tom stopped abruptly, skidding on wet leaves. "Willy!"
Joan had seen the two men. Their voices awakened her and she sat tense and huddled in the little leaf cave. She didn't know what to do-panic and fear rushed through her veins, pumping her muscles full. Thoughts, raced and collided in her head, fragments of ideas, and a small, lonely voice cried inside of her. When Willy broke into his sudden run, she jumped automatically, but he had cleared the log just as her head emerged. Tom, who was running behind Willy, saw her peek out. Their eyes met for an instant. To Joan, it seemed that Toms surprised stare lasted forever and pinned her to her hideout. But then her body started moving when Tom yelled at Willy. She dove from cover and ran past him, throwing her arms out and knocking him off balance as she went. Her feet crushed the leaves and twigs underfoot and she felt a sharp pain. Willy had turned when his partner called out and he saw the flash of gleaming skin crash into the high weeds. Tom jumped to his feet and ran after her with Willy right behind.
Joan's breath was coming quickly and a hard pressure squeezed her lungs as she ran. She didn't know or care where she was heading. The only thing she could think of was to run and keep on running until her lungs burst. Tom was right behind her now and in a few moments, he was within arms reach. He stretched and caught her hair in his hand but she shook her head and he let go again. Joan's face was white with fright as Tom reached again. This time, he caught a good thick handful and pulled.
Joan lost her footing, crashed to the ground and Tom was on top of her, struggling to hold her hands. She kicked at the air, frantically trying to get away before Willy got there. But it was too late. Willy stood over them and watched as they fought. Joan was a flurry of arms and legs, hair and teeth and her breasts were crushed under Tom's weight. Tom rolled on top of her and got one leg on either side of her, knelt there, planting himself squarely on top of her heaving belly. She was breathing hard, huffing and gasping for air and tears came to her eyes. She had lost. Her attempt to escape had brought nothing but frustration and now she allowed her tense body to settle against the warm moss.
"Good going," Willy said as he stooped to tie her hands. Then, to Joan, he sneered: "You'll be sorry for this. I promise you."
Tom got up cautiously. Willy held the end of the long piece of rope. The other end was wound tightly around Joan's wrists, holding her hands tightly in front of her. Willy pulled her to her feet and she hung her head submissively.
"All right. I won't try to run," she said.
"That's right. You aren't going anywhere," Willy assured her and pulled her along.
He stopped in front of a tree and told Tom to hold her. Tom stepped up behind her and wound his arms around her waist while Willy tossed the loose end of the rope over a low hanging branch. He pulled until Joan was standing on tip toe, then tied the end around the tree trunk. He walked away and looked on the ground as he went.
"What the hell's going on now?" Tom said. He was annoyed. He thought the best thing they could do was to get back to the house.
Willy returned with a handful of long twigs. He gave half to Tom who took them reluctantly. But Willy frowned, swung the twigs and they slashed across Joan's buttocks. She twisted and cried out but Willy slashed again, the twigs leaving thin red lines across her tight, round buttocks. Tom watched and his eyes danced in his head at the sight of the defenseless girl hanging from the tree. Each time Willy lashed out at her with the twigs Tom felt his blood race into his head.
Willy stopped now. His arm was tired and he motioned to Tom, pointed at the handful of twigs. Joan swayed helplessly. Her flesh was scorched by the twigs as they lashed her body. They bit and stung her buttocks and the back of her thighs and she threw her head back and cried out as Tom stepped forward and began whipping her. He hit harder and harder until the twigs snapped in his hands.
Joan's back and buttocks were gleaming red now. Willy stared with a mad glint in his eye. He stepped in front of her and eyed her hard, pointed breasts then went to Tom and handed him the twigs.
Tom look puzzled but took the twigs that his friend had offered and he stood gaping as Willy opened his pants. His huge red cock flopped out and bobbed in the cool morning air. He stepped up behind Joan and touched her inflamed buttocks, squeezed and pinched her flesh and she twisted and swayed as she tried to evade his hands.
Willy took his cock in his hands and tried to push it into her cunt but Joan squeezed her legs tightly together, barring his ruddy head. He motioned frantically to Tom, who understood and grabbed her by the ankles and stretched her legs apart. Her tender cunt was fully exposed then and Willy, an angry look on his face, slid his prick between her legs, then forced it's angry head into her cunt. Joan squirmed as his prick tore into her. Her lips were dry and his cock scraped her tender petals and burned. She twisted and squirmed as he pushed up into her, ripping into her belly and Willy tried to hold her around the waist. His arms squeezed her belly until Joan gasped for air.
Tom stood up and looked at Joan's beautiful breasts. They stood proudly, defiantly, the small pink nipples standing erect and hard. He drew his hand back and Joan's face spread with terror as the twigs whistled through the air. The first blow wasn't very hard but the ends of the twigs caught her delicate nipples and she writhed and screamed as the fire tore into her chest. Willy enjoyed her twist and struggling and he raised himself on his toes. Joan felt herself being lifted from the ground and now that the rope was slack, she was truly impaled on Willy's thick cock. He jerked her body up and down on his prick and she felt its burning flesh torment her cunt, crush her clitoris. The rough material of his clothes scratched her buttocks. Tom began whipping slowly and steadily as his friend pumped inside of her, raging in her belly. The sting of the twigs ripped into her belly and breasts until the flesh burned hotly and she struggled to free her self, twisting desperately. But Willy's cock was pumping harder now. She could hear him grunting as he pressed his face into her back and hammered inside of her. Tom was lashing her thighs and the fire spread up to her cunt.
Willy was moaning now and his body tensed as he made a final lunge and shot his molten sperm into her. He hung on her now and her wrists were straining against the ropes. He pulled his softened cock out of her now and then pushed it into his pants. Tom came around behind her, pulled his thick prick out of his pants and handed the twigs to Willy. Joan couldn't stand the thought of going through it again.
"Please. No more. Not now. I've had enough-if you touch me again-I won't be able, oh, please, don't. Not there-"
Tom was struggling to get the fat head of his cock into Joan's tight ass. He forced it into her, crushing his prick and straining until it slid in an inch. Joan screamed as his prick stretched her tiny ass. She threw her head from side to side, her hair whipping around her face. The pain burst inside of her in a hot explosion as Tom's prick bored all the way into her. Willy took the twigs and stood menacingly in front of her. But Joan couldn't fight any longer. She hung from the rope and her chin sunk to her chest as Willy drew his hand back and whipped the twigs across her heaving, white belly. He lashed at her and she moaned as the pain shot through her belly. Tom's cock was tearing her from behind. He held onto her shoulder and pressed her body downward each time he pushed up and his cock ripped into her. Willy slashed her breasts and she jerked spasmodically. Her legs twitched and her hair shivered. Tom raged in her, hammering his cock deep into her ass, pounding against her tortured buttocks and gripping her waist, he tensed his body, exploded in hot spurts inside of her.
They wrapped her in the blanket and carried her limp, tired body through the woods. Joan was too exhausted to fight anymore. Her body was saturated with pain and the stinging blows of the twigs, left thin red lines on her breast, legs and buttocks. Her breathing was slow and even and she wanted to sleep again. She listened to the two men grunting as they lugged her through the thick trees. She wasn't aware of the house until she heard their heavy footsteps on the front porch.
The house was still dark, despite the rays of sun peeking through the trees. They carried her back up to the room and threw her on the bed. Willy tied her hands securely to the bedposts and rubbed his hands together. He was satisfied with his work. Joan was unconscious by then and her mind filled with vague forms, people, buildings and once, a bus roared through her imagination. She heard voices in the distance but couldn't comprehend Willy and Tom chattering, but she couldn't identify them.
"Let's celebrate," Tom said. He had calmed down quite a bit now and as he stood gazing at Joan, he rubbed his pants. "Let's celebrate then come up here later."
They went downstairs, Tom leading the way this time and went directly to the bottle of whiskey. It was on the kitchen table where Tom had left it and he grabbed the bottle by the neck, tore the cap off and tipped the opening to his mouth. His throat jumped up and down rapidly as he swallowed the liquid. It warmed his insides as he hesitated, took another short pull and handed the bottle to Willy.
They sat in the chairs and Tom felt tired. He was feeling the tension released from his body like a stream of pressurized steam. Someone had pulled the cork. He folded his arms on tne table and rested his head. It wasn't long before he was asleep.
Willy continued drinking for a while after his friend slept; then he went into the living room and with the bottle still in his hand, fell across the couch. Joan was bothering him. Wondered if she would escape again. He could take stronger measures of course. He could board up the window, keep the door locked, chain her with the old chains he had out back. But that wasn't the only thing that worried him. He wondered how long he could keep the girl here-and what would happen when Tom left?
Willy's friend liked to talk. It wouldn't be long before he would tell someone. Of course it would be hard to believe-Tom hadn't believed him until he brought him here-But you could never tell what people thought about things: it wasn't such a far fetched idea that a lonely man would keep a young, beautiful girl locked up in his house.
Willy took another long drink and relaxed. There was plenty of time. Tom had mentioned that he was on a week's vacation. Plenty of time, Willy thought and took another drink.
CHAPTER NINE
"What are we going to do?"
"What do you mean? We don't have to do anything ... just stay here and enjoy ourselves," Willy said in answer to Tom's question.
Tom stroked his chin and looked down at the cluttered table. He took the whiskey bottle, raised it to his lips then hesitated. He was troubled ever since the girl had escaped and even though Willy had suggested that they chain her to the bed, he didn't feel any safer. It all started to turn upside down; Willy, the girl, the situation and his own part in it.
"I don't know Willy. I have to be getting back in a few days and I was thinking..." he said and took a long drink.
"What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that maybe we ought to let her go."
"What?" Willy shouted and pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. "Have you lost your mind? I'm not letting her go, so just get that out of your head."
"But you can't keep her here forever," Tom explained. "So why not let her go now?"
"Never."
"Look, Willy. If it's just the good time ... I mean if all you need is a woman ... I have plenty of dough and we can take a little trip to the city and..."
"Forget it," Willy said solemnly. "I like this one and anyway, it's like I told you, she really loves it. Every time I crack her with the whip she shivers all over. She gets her fun out of it too ... don't kid yourself."
Tom thought for a moment. He didn't like Willy's attitude at all ... especially now. Willy had gone upstairs when they woke up after their sleep this morning and chained Joan to the bed. He boarded the only window in the room and locked the door. The girl was in pitiful shape. She refused to eat and every time Tom looked at her battered body, he wanted to turn and run.
Willy on the other hand, was preoccupied with devising more tortures for the girl and his friend's behavior only served to irritate him. He was sorry now that he had brought Tom home with him. It had been foolish of him to want to prove something by bringing Tom home. Now he was in a vise. Tom couldn't be trusted and Willy didn't know what to do about it.
"Listen, I've got to go to town and pick up a few things. How about going with me, having a few drinks ... you'll feel better if you get out of here for a while."
"I'd rather stay here. I'm still tired and I don't think drinking any more would help. Why don't you just go ahead without me? I'll take a nap on the couch."
Willy frowned. He couldn't very well force Tom to go with him and he had to go to town. There wasn't any food left in the house and Willy was beginning to get hungry. He rose slowly from the chair, his eyes glued to Tom.
"All right ... I'll go alone. The key to the room is on the table in the living room. If she needs anything..."
"Don't you worry. I'll take care of it."
"You want anything?"
"No. Nothing that I can think of."
Willy put his coat on and walked out. It was bright and sunny outside and he had to squint his eyes against the sharp yellow needles that hurt his eyes. He turned onto the path that led through the woods and in a while, he could see the tops of the low buildings. He trampled through the dust and watched the small clouds rise a few inches then disappear.
The bar was empty when Willy entered but the bartender looked up and smiled. He recognized Willy and waved.
"How are you today?" he asked as Willy came up to the bar.
"Okay ... I guess. But I'll feel a lot better if you give me a drink."
"What'll it be?"
"Whiskey and a beer on the side."
Willy looked around the place. It was warm inside and the booths were hiding in the shadows. Sunlight streamed in the window but was somewhat subdued by the heavy curtain. The barman brought his drink and he emptied it in one gulp, slammed the glass down and ordered another.
"You might as well leave the whole bottle," he said.
The man was wiping some glasses now and every few moments he would look up at Willy who was still standing and pouring whiskey down his throat. He hadn't touched the beer.
"Where's your friend the story-teller?"
"Oh ... up at the house. He feels pretty tired. We been doing some hiking and he couldn't take it. Must be getting soft, living in the city."
"He from around here?"
"Tom? Why, we grew up together here.
Went to school together and all. He left for the city when we were younger but came back after a few years. Ever since then he's been going back for a while, making money then visiting in town. His-family used to live in the Henry place."
"You don't say? I was just wondering because a guy like him ... telling them stories ... a bartender ain't-likely to forget. But I can't recall ever seeing him."
"He usually hangs around the clubs in town."
Willy had finished about half the bottle and was beginning to slur his words. His head had calmed down and he decided that he would straighten every thing out back at the house. It was all very simple ... just needed a little organized thought ... that was all and now that the alcohol had soothed his nerves, he knew that he would figure everything out shortly.
Tom lay back on the couch and stared at the whiskey in his hand. He had been drinking steadily ever since Willy left for town and now he could feel the alcohol warming his blood. He wondered what was taking Willy so long and then decided that it didn't matter. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Joan should be awake by now, he thought. Better go see what's going on up there.
He took the steps quickly and found the door open. Willy is sure a careless character, he thought to himself as he stepped into the room.
"Are you hungry?" he asked Joan. He couldn't think of anything else as he looked at her, lying chained to the bed. "Can I get you something?"
Joan shook her head and stared at him. She knew that there was something about Tom, something that said to her that she could reason with him but she couldn't be sure. He looked so pathetic standing in the doorway. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets and his eyes were bloodshot as if he'd been drinking. She wondered.
"Come here," she said, motioning for him to sit on the bed. He followed the line of her chin and shook his head. "Don't be afraid. What's the matter, I'm tied up, not you."
Tom shrugged his shoulders and sat on the bed. He noticed that the marks on her flesh were barely visible now and he wondered what had happened. She should have been in terrible shape, he thought. But there was a faint odor that tickled his nose and he realized that Willy must have put something on her skin to help. What a nut, he thought, first he whips her, then he takes care of her.
"What's your name?"
"Tom," he answered in a low voice.
"Tom ... where's Willy? Has he gone out?"
"Yeah. He went to town to get some groceries. Why?"
"It's so quiet."
"Yeah."
"Look ... Tom ... I won't beat around the bush. I want out of here. I don't know how much more punishment I can stand before I go out of my mind. You seem like a reasonable person ... couldn't you do something?"
Tom smiled and his white teeth flashed across his mouth.
"Reasonable? I don't know why you say that. I did just as much as Willy."
"Not really," she said, softening her gaze. "Willy comes after me with a vengeance, while you..."
"What about me?" he said angrily.
"You seemed to be after a good time. I don't know how you met Willy but if all you want is a good time, we don't really need him."
Tom looked at her. His face was screwed up in tight little folds. The alcohol had taken full affect now and he didn't understand what she was saying.
"What do you mean ... we don't need Willy? Are you suggesting..."
"I'm suggesting nothing. All I'm saying is that if you want a good time with me ... I don't see why you have to share it with Willy. You're pretty handsome, you know, and I wouldn't feel the same with you as I do with Willy."
Tom was clearly flattered by her remarks. He puffed his chest up and tried to sit straight but his body was loose, like a lump of moist clay and he slumped forward.
"What are you driving at?"
"Unlock my chains and I'll show you."
"Yeah. Look ... if I had the key, I wouldn't even bother because I know that you'd run as soon as those locks are opened and then where would I be? You would take off to the nearest police station and..."
"No! You have it all wrong," she interrupted. "I wouldn't run. I'll let you have me ... take what you want from me and maybe we could go away ... the two of us ... before he gets back."
Joan let her words sink in. Tom was rubbing his face, trying to clear the cobwebs that her words had woven in his fuzzy mind. It didn't make sense to him that he should cut his own throat and let her go."
"You don't believe me?" she said.
"No, not really ... if you want to know the truth, I think you're just trying to use me. But it ain't going to work."
"Come here."
"What?"
"Come here, I said."
She closed her eyes and waited and Tom leaned forward to kiss her soft lips. It was the first time he had kissed her since he came to the place and the velvety touch of her mouth, combined with the affect of the drink made his head spin dizzily. He sat up and looked at her. Joan's eyes were still closed and there was a smile on her lips now. She arched her body toward him and her pink nipples seemed to quiver. His hand darted forward and touched her delicate flesh, smoothed across her flat belly and Joan squirmed slowly under his fingers. He felt the silky fluff of down, rubbed his broad hand gently over it and down to the hot, dry lips of her cunt. His forefinger played with her lips, sliding up and down over the outside of the loose skin, then suddenly plunging deep inside. Joan stiffened as his fingers rasped her dry flesh, then settled back and moaned softly. He took his finger out. It was wet and shiny now and he slid it along the tight folds of her buttocks. She was on fire. His finger felt the heat and now he toyed with her tight ass. She squirmed as he worked the finger into her, boring a few inches and twisting around in a screw-like motion.
Tom was getting hard. His breath came quicker and his chest pumped the air like a wheezing accordian. He looked at the beautiful girl and bent forward to kiss her belly.
"Take your clothes off," Joan whispered huskily.
Tom moved instinctively and tossed his clothes to the floor. He was on top of Joan before she realized what was happening. Tom's cock was on her belly and she made and attempt to reach for it. He slid up further and rubbed his prick over her breasts. The head was swollen and red and dry and the touch of her silky flesh sent shivers through his body. Tom slid it over her nipples and they hardened and tickled the nerve of his cock. He moved over each breast slowly, riding over the velvety mounds of flesh. Joan made noises in her throat and closed her eyes. Tom worked over her chest, the smooth valley between her breasts then squeezed them together, sandwiching his thick cock between her firm flesh.
Joan opened her mouth now and tried to reach the head of his prick with her tongue. Tom inched forward until his cock was against her tongue and she licked him until he pushed the burning red flesh into her mouth. Joan settled back with his swollen cock stretching her lips and sucking while Tom moaned. He reached forward and pulled her hair, forcing her head up and his cock sunk deeper. She moaned, trying to pull back a little and he felt her tight lips slide over the nerve. His prick was throbbing inside her quick mouth, pulling slowly in and out. He savored every pull of her lips as it rolled over him, sending sparks through his body. His balls began to swell and he rose to his knees. He looked down as his prick gorged her mouth and Joan sucked his hot flesh, rolling her tongue over his tender head, then tickling the tiny slit with the hard tip of her tongue. Tom rolled back and forth in her mouth, watching his gleaming wet cock sink deep then slide back out. Her lips clung greedily each time he pulled out and Tom couldn't stand the torment any longer. He pumped faster now and the lava boiled in his groin. He jerked his prick in and out of her mouth until every nerve of his body was stretched taut and he came fast, pouring his hot fluid into her mouth and she was swallowing every drop.
She wouldn't stop sucking now and Tom's cock stayed hard and stiff and he thought he would go crazy as her tongue teased him. She pushed away suddenly and whispered for him to fuck her.
"Hurry ... Tom, you big, wonderful man. Fuck me until I beg you for mercy. Yes, that's right, there. Oh! That's it, Tom. So good. Harder. Fuck me harder!"
Tom was pounding furiously inside of her tight cunt. Her words drove him into a wild frenzy and he wanted to split her open, hear her scream.
"Harder, Tom, more. Hurt me, Tom. You're wonderful. It's so good. More ... push in more."
He was a wild animal now, ruled by his steely cock as it rammed all the way up into her. He moved with a new energy, slid the entire length of his cock out of her, then as the head appeared, he rammed it back up into her and her belly heaved and her body twisted and squirmed, tugging at her bonds. The rattle of the chains and his heavy breathing were the only sounds in the room until Joan opened her mouth and wailed. She screamed and twisted wildly and jerked her legs and Tom gushed into her. The sperm kept coming as he fell against her, hunching his cock in and out, feeling the fluid rush through his cock and explode in the head, pour into her until it oozed and ran over her buttocks. Joan was still thrusting her belly upward and battering the head of his prick. Her mouth was open and her breath came in loud gasps and then she stiffened, arched up against him and cascaded over his cock. After a long moment, she settled back on the bed and closed her eyes. Her chest was still heaving, pumping air and Tom gave a final lunge with his cock. He wanted to feel the tingle run through his nerves before it got soft. He fell heavily against the prostrate girl and she grunted under his weight. They were silent for a while and then Joan began speaking in a low voice.
"See what I mean? We can have a good time together. We don't need anyone else. Willy is in the way when it comes to me and you."
Tom didn't say a word. He lay there, breathing heavily and closed his eyes. He heard her words clearly now and he understood exactly what she wanted. It angered him to hear her talking like that about Willy and finally he got up and looked into her eyes. He lifted his legs over her and began putting his clothes on again.
"Aren't you going to say something? Can't you tell me what you're thinking. Say something!" Her face was red now and her eyes shining as she screamed at him. She knew what he was going to say before he uttered a sound and she felt nothing but frustration and pulled hard on her bonds.
"You'll only hurt yourself," Tom observed. "I would save my strength if I were you, Willy should be coming back soon."
"But you can't go now..."
"I don't see why not. Anyway, I'll be back as soon as Willy gets here."
"Please," Joan said. "You've got to listen to me. I have to get out of here. You don't know what Willy will do to me." She had a desperate look in her eves and tears bubbled and rolled across her cheek. "You just don't understand."
Tom stood in the open doorway and looked at her. His face was devoid of emotion although her words were clattering in his head. He had been trying to avoid the question of what Willy was going to do to her when he was through with her. There weren't many alternatives. He shuddered at the thought and shook his head, trying to wipe out the crazy idea.
"What can I do? I'm not responsible for any of this," he said and swept his hand in a circle. "Willy won't bother you if that's what you're talking about."
Joan stared disbelievingly at him. Her mouth hung open as his words echoed in her ears.
"You can stand there, look at me and know what you do ... and still say that? You are either blind or completely stupid. You know damned well what he's going to do when he's had enough of this."
Tom turned his back on her and walked out to the stairs. Joan was crying now and he felt a chill go up his back and he shook himself. It wasn't his problem. He was here to have a good time and if Willy went crazy...
"It will be just as much your fault!" Joan shouted from the room. "You're already in too deep."
Tom found the bottle of whiskey on the table and took a long drink. It burned his throat this time and he winced, set it down and wiped the back of his hand across his lips. He wanted to leave. It would be easy to get on his coat and walk out without turning back. Willy would be angry for a while, but he didn't give a damn. It was getting too tight around here. He could feel the walls closing in on him and that girl, he thought and looked at the top of the stairs. She's getting on my nerves.
He sat heavily in a chiar and cradled his head in his hands. The house was quiet now and he had time to think things out ... what he'd really gotten into.
"Hey old timer, you're fucking drunk," a young man called from the bar.
Willy was spinning crazily in the center of the room. He held a bottle of whiskey high over his head and attempted to clap his hands as he did a drunken dance. He heard the music of the juke box but somehow, the rhythm evaded his feet. They kept getting in each other's way and he stumbled against the dancers in the bar. It was warm. God damned hot. And he was sweating profusely as he reeled around in a twisting circle like a corkscrew.
"What the hell you doing pal?"
Willy looked up into the man's face and grinned, showing his white teeth. He extended the bottle to the man who smiled nervously at the girl he was dancing with. He shook his head and danced away.
Willy looked around the bar. He didn't recognize anyone in the thick crowd that had accumulated right under his nose while he drank all afternoon. It was late evening now and he didn't know or care what time it was. A pretty young girl was sitting in a booth with another couple and Willy staggered over to them.
"Hi sweetie," he drawled.
The young girl looked up and smiled.
"You want to dance, honey?"
The three young people giggled at him then and he felt rage boil up in his neck but held back and took another swallow of whiskey. Shit, he thought, just having fun.
"Come on honey," he said and reached for the girl's hand.
She jerked her hand back and shook her head. The young man started to get up but his girl friend grabbed his arm and pulled him down.
"Take it easy honey," she said. "The old guy's okay, just a little tipsy. Right, mister?" she said, smiling at Willy.
"Just a little dance sweetie," he said and grabbed the girl's hand.
"Now look..." the young man said and started to get up again.
Before anyone knew what was happening, Willy smashed the whiskey bottle on the man's head. The glass shattered and whiskey splashed over everyone. The man looked surprised as he fell backward into the booth and lay unconscious. The two women screamed and someone grabbed Willy from behind. He struggled against the man's grip, twisting and kicking backward and then another man was in standing right in front of him, drawing a wide fist back and Willy saw an explosion of lights, and heard the music slow down to a crawl and the muffled voices...
They hustled him outside, two men on each end and swung him back and forth until he was about shoulder height, then they let go at the same time and he flew a short distance and then cracked in a heap on the hard-packed dirt. His head missed hitting a car fender by inches but Willy wasn't aware of any of it. He was out cold from the fist that had cracked into his jaw.
It was cold now and Willy sat up on the ground, reached for his chin and felt the sharp pain where the man had hit him. He was still dizzy and he tried to make out the shapes of the parked cars that seemed to loom above him like big mountains. His pants were wet and he shivered with cold. Willy rose unsteadily to his feet and his head reeled. The ground waved and slanted under him and he staggered sideways, reaching out for support then found the ground coming up to meet him again.
Music came from the bar and Willy recognized the song. It was the one that had been playing on the juke box when he asked the girl for a dance.
The lights were bright and hurt Willy's eyes as he struggled to his feet a second time. His back hurt now and he rubbed the sore spot. His hand rubbed a wet patch on his pants and he wondered what it could be. He decided that it was the whiskey and smiled as he recalled the startled look on the young man's face when the bottle smacked his skull.
Willy's mouth was as dry as paper. He wiped his lips and tried to draw some saliva but his reservoir was dried by the alcohol. He decided that he needed a drink and walked back into the bar.
It was darker inside than out and he ducked his head to keep from being noticed. He made it to the end of the bar and the bartender, a worried look on his face, came down to him and leaned close.
"Get the fuck out of here, Willy," he demanded in a hushed voice. "That guy will kill you if he sees you here again. He's been sitting there talking about looking for you anyway so take my advice and get out now!"
"Aw ... Alls I want is a drink ... Just one drink. It ain't going to kill nobody if I have one more."
The barman stared at him for a few moments. Willy was all smiles and he held out both hands to show how helpless he was.
"I don't know why ... but I'll give you one more if you promise to keep out of sight. Don't start any more trouble or I'll call the cops."
"Sure, sure," Willy said. "I just want a sip of cool beer. I won't start no trouble. I promise."
"Who's calling the cops?" a big man standing nearby asked. "I hear someone say they were calling the cops?"
"No," the barman answered. "We were talking about the cops ... about how long it would take them to get here if I called them."
"Oh, well if you do call them, give me a warning. I don't want to be here when they get here." He laughed and took a drink out of his glass. His eyes met Willy's and stopped. "Ain't I seen you someplace before?"
"Me?" Willy said, poking his finger into his own chest. "I don't believe so. I ain't seen you around here."
The man came closer and frowned. He was a head taller than Willy and looked down at him with beady eyes.
"Sure. I seen you around town. I don't know your name but I sure seen you. Fred ... that's my name."
"Glad to know you Fred. Willy's mine," he said, extending his hand.
Fred crushed Willy's fingers and shook vigorously.
"Some grip you got there, Fred."
"Yeah," he grinned. "Say, what happened to you? I just noticed that bruise on your face."
Willy put his hand to his cheek and winced. He hadn't noticed the sore spot before. One of the men had hit him as he landed on the ground and a big blue spot had spread while he was out cold.
"Oh, this," he said absently. "Ain't nothing to brag about. Had a little misunderstanding with a few fellas before and they won out."
Willy looked over Fred's shoulder to see if he recognized anyone. He figured they must have left. He didn't see the man or the two women.
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Fred remarked with a smile. "I've had those kind of nights myself."
"Big bruiser like you? I find that hard to believe," Willy said. "How about a drink?"
"Why, thanks. That's nice of you."
"Two down here," Willy hollered.
The bartender came back with two beers and set them on the counter. He threw a suspicious glance at Fred but Willy picked up one glass and handed it to him, smiled at the barman and took his own glass.
"Here's to you," he said and swallowed his beer. "Man, that's good stuff when you're thirsty. Does a man a world of good."
The crowd began to thin and soon Willy and his new friend were the only two people at the bar. Willy was talking loud. He was drunk again and had been ordering drinks for both of them. The barman cast suspicious looks down at him each time he laughed out loud. He figured that Willy wasn't able to pay for all the drinks.
"How about one more?"
"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Then I'll have to be getting alone. Sure was a lot of fun drinking with you."
"Shit. You ain't going nowhere. Not now that the party's going to start." Fred's eyes lit up.
"Party? You didn't say nothing about a party. Where is it?"
"My place," Willy announced. "Bring me the bill and a fresh bottle to go!" he called to the barman.
"Hold it old timer," Fred said. "I don't go for that stuff. I'll pass up the invitation ... No hard feelings."
Willy narrowed his eyes and slapped his hand on the bar.
"Do you like girls? Young, plump, big breasted, flat bellied girls? Young, like a fresh hen ... Uh, slightly used."
"What the hell you talking about?"
"Girls ... young ones. I got one at the house. You're coming back and I won't take no for an answer. We'll leave, soon as I take a leak," Willy announced and strode off toward the men's room.
The bartender came down with two fresh beers and a bottle of whiskey wrapped in a paper bag.
"Where'd he go?"
"Men's room," Fred told him. Then he leaned forward and said: "The old guy ... you know him?"
"Willy? Sure. Coming in here for years."
"Is he ... uh ... funny?"
"Willy? No. What the hell ever gave you that idea. Fact is, the old bastard's got a way with women. That's what got him in trouble tonight. He got itchy pants."
"Thanks. Sorry I got the wrong idea. You won't say anything will you?" he asked as Willy emerged from the men's room.
"No. It's okay. He'd understand anyway."
"You ready?" Willy asked in a loud voice.
"Yeah ... Yeah, I'm ready as ever."
CHAPTER TEN
Willy and Fred walked back to the house. It was dark and quiet when they went inside. Tom was asleep on the couch. He had finished the bottle of whiskey and now the house vibrated with his snores. Willy tiptoed into the room, then realized what he was doing.
"What the hell?" he roared and turned the lights on.
Tom jumped up from the couch and blinked his eyes. He stood in the light and held his hands up to shade his eyes. He recognized Willy who was weaving back and forth now. Fred stood beside him and grinned at Tom.
"Tom, this is Fred. He's a friend of mine."
Tom nodded his head, then stopped at the package under Willy's arm.
"What have you got there?"
"Oh ... almost forgot," he said. "This here is our new friend ... called whiskey," he said and pulled the unopened bottle from the paper. "Like to try him out?"
Tom took a swallow and coughed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then passed the bottle back to Willy. Willy gave it to his new friend and Fred guzzled the liquid and the bubbles rose quickly to the top. Willy was next.
Fred took the bottle again and drank quietly, handed it to Tom. He was standing there, hands in his pockets. He didn't know what to say. His mind was still clouded with sleep.
"Sit down," Willy said to Fred.
He moved heavily to the couch, dragged his big feet and sunk down onto the cushions. He looked around the living room and smiled.
"Nice place you got here ... but where are the women?"
Tom shot a worried glance at Willy.
"Uh. Just a minute. We'll go up in a minute. Let's have a couple of drinks."
They passed the bottle around again. Each one took a good pull of the whiskey. Fred looked at the stairs expectantly. He waited for someone to appear and listened for sounds. He had a puzzled look on his face and Tom fidgeted with his hands. He couldn't understand why Willy had brought this guy back to the house. Maybe he didn't realize how tight the situation had gotten and now ... he didn't have any right to bring Fred with him. After all, he was in this as deep as Willy and maybe this guy Fred wouldn't like the idea of Joan being tied up, kept prisoner.
Willy stood and smiled. Fred followed him up the stairs and Tom watched. He saw them hesitate at the head of the stairs and Willy turned to look back at him.
"Aren't you coming, Tom?"
"In a minute..."
They opened the door and Willy turned the light on. Fred stood frozen in the doorway when he saw Joan lying chained to the bed. She looked up at the two men and sucked in her breath. Fred, in the meantime was reeling with the sight that lay before him.
"I ... I, uh..." he stammered.
"Come on in," Willy said.
Fred stepped into the room and gaped at Joan. He watched her belly rise and fall with a steady rhythm. He gaped at her firm breasts and her hard thighs, the fluffy patch of dark hair. He noticed the chains and frowned slightly.
"How come she's tied up?"
"Uh ... you might say she was a little reluctant to come here with me."
"Oh ... that's too bad. You're ruining those pretty wrists." Fred roared with laughter. His voice boomed and shook the walls and he bent forward and slapped his thighs. He thought he had made a really funny joke but Joan wasn't laughing. She lay still on the mattress and waited for the next move.
"Well, go ahead. She's all yours," Willy said.
Fred stopped laughing suddenly and stood up straight. He walked over to Willy, grabbed the whiskey bottle and took a drink. He smacked his lips and rubbed his hands together, looked at Joan and walked over to the bed.
"You are a lovely one," he observed and caressed her cheek.
Joan tried to evade his hand but the rough fingers gripped a thick handful of hair and held her firmly while he planted a wet kiss on her lips. She could smell the strong odor of alcohol. Fred grunted now as he sat beside her and slobbered, kissed her mouth and face, licked her tiny ears. She squirmed and tried to pull away but his hand tugged roughly at her hair and she lay quiet and let him do what he wanted. His free hand ran over her flat belly and tickled her navel, reached down to the fluff of black hair and caressed the tender flesh inside her thighs. His forefinger found the tight lips of her cunt and he ran it up and down until he felt the sticky wetness. His other hand was working on her breasts now. They teased her pink nipples and she arched her back. He was hurting her, pinching the tender flesh and she twisted and threw her head aside. Fred sat up and glared at her.
"Lay still girlie if you know what's good for you."
Joan grinned at him, bared her teeth and spit in his face.
"Why you little bitch!" he cried and wiped his face. He drew his hand back to slap her but Willy called out for him to stop. He turned and glared at Willy then smiled as he saw the whip in his hand.
He took the long, black leather whip and stood over Joan. She rattled the chains and tried to move away but it was too late ... The leather sliced through the air and whistled before it lashed across her belly. She screamed as the hot pain burned her flesh. Fred was stronger than Willy or Tom and the leather sliced her flesh. It turned red where the lash had bitten into her and she felt the stinging leather cut across her breasts, torture her nipples and belly, thighs and once, the tuft of black hair.
Fred told Willy to unchain her. He hesitated, then as Fred raised the whip menacingly over his shoulder, Willy took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the heavy chains.
Joan darted from the bed as soon as Willy took the last chain off. She ran with surprising speed toward the door but Fred was closer and stepped into the opening. She stopped and looked around. She was terrified now. Willy stood grinning behind her and Fred in front. She was about to run to the other side of the room when Willy let her have the cat tails across her back. The blow knocked her to the floor. Her back was on fire from the thongs as they lashed across her flesh. Fred kicked her in the shoulder with his heavy shoe and knocked her over. She lay on her side and he lashed out at her again with the long whip. Willy had to step back to keep from being hit himself as Fred lashed Joan's white flesh with a vengeance, cutting into her with the black leather. Her back was crossed with the angry marks of the whip and now her breasts and belly, thighs and buttocks were turning red.
Joan rolled and squirmed on the floor at Fred's feet. She cried out each time he struck her with the whip and he delighted in her screams. She held onto his ankles and he kicked at her. She tried desperately to get away or make him stop and she crawled up his long leg until she felt the hard lump of his cock in his pants.
"Oh, you want that too?"
He opened his fly and groped inside of his pants until he found his thick cock and pulled it out. Joan opened her eyes, stared at the huge red thing. She had never seen a prick that big before. It was at least as long as a horse's she had seen once one and she drew away as it burst into the room. The flesh was rough looking and thick blue veins ran wavy lines along its length. The thing looked like a tree trunk and at the top, a huge head, like a red balloon.
She backed off and Fred raised his whip again. Willy struck her from behind. Fred pointed at the thick red cock. She inched forward again on her knees and took it in her hand. It was as hard as stone and the flesh had a leathery quality. She ran her hand up and down, feeling its prickly skin on her fingers.
"I can't," she stammered.
Fred lashed the whip across her back and she cried out in pain, moved toward the huge cock again and took it gently between her fingers. The tiny slit peered at her and she opened her mouth. The head of his cock filled her mouth. Her lips were stretched taut as she tried to get more of it into her and Fred pushed a little, grunting as the head hit the back of her mouth.
"Come on girlie," she heard him say. "Suck hard ... it takes an educated mouth to get this cannon going," he laughed.
Joan licked the round head of his prick, covering it with saliva. Fred dropped the whip and moaned loudly as his fingers dug into her hair and caressed her. He ran his forefinger down along her cheek, to her taut lips, then followed the tight line around his cock. She jerked her head back and forth over his prick, rasping her tongue over the nerve and Fred moved his buttocks from side to side. He grabbed her hair tightly and forced her head back and forth over his cock, moving faster and faster until he moaned with pleasure as her stiff tongue rasped his nerve.
Willy had gotten undressed and tossed his clothes on the floor. He sat down behind Joan and inched her up over his stiff prick. Her fluffy hair was moist with sperm and he lowered her quickly onto his cock. She squirmed as his hot prick shot up into her.
Both men worked inside of her now. She made loud sucking noises as Fred jerked his cock in and out of her mouth and Willy moved under her. He gripped her waist with one hand and kneaded her breasts with the other, squeezing and pinching her nipples until she moaned. But the sound was muffled by Fred's cock and he didn't stop squeezing until Joan pushed back. Now Fred was jerking faster until a few boiling drops of sperm shot into her mouth and was followed by a wave. She choked as her mouth filled suddenly with the hot liquid. It ran down her chin and over her breasts, onto Willy's hand. He rubbed it onto her belly and Fred pulled out of her. Willy put both hands up under her shoulders and fell back with her on top of him. His cock was stiff rigid inside of her ass and now she lay back, exposing her cunt to Fred's huge cock.
He took his clothes off and heaved them across the room. Now Joan spread her legs wide and got ready for the enormous prick that bore down on her. With a grunt, Fred buried the head into her. She felt as if she would explode with the gigantic thing forcing its way slowly up into her. Willy held on and even tried to push forward as Fred plunged deeper into her. She squirmed and wiggled, trying to help Fred get it all in and when half of it was inside of her, she gasped and cried that she couldn't take any more.
Fred pushed with renewed strength and sunk in a little deeper. He was three fourths of the way in now but he was determined to bury himself in her slippery, velvety pocket. It felt so wonderful that Fred kept saying over and over that it was going to kill him.
His words seemed to move Joan. She threw her legs around him and pulled, drawing him closer and he dug in deeper.
"More, Fred ... harder. Fuck harder, come on, push," she moaned.
Fred drove deeper and she strained against his cock. He couldn't go any further.
Willy reached around and began pumping upward as Fred lunged forward and together, they met inside of her. She stretched between the two men and tried to get air but they were crushing her. Their cocks raged inside of her, Willy splitting her tight ass from behind and Fred gorging her cunt in front. The tiny strip of flesh between them, stretched to the breaking point and Joan thought that she felt it tear. She shut her eyes as the two men worked to bring her to life. Fred's cock crushed her clitoris and slid over it, sending electric shocks through her body and she tried to move ... felt herself coming now and pushed ... and cascaded over Fred's cock as he pumped faster ... exploded in her and it burned her flesh.
With a great push, Willy forced Fred off her and rolled her over on her belly. He gripped tightly now and slid his cock in and out of her until the pain deadened her nerves and all she felt was the thick flesh tearing her ass. Willy stiffened, lunged forward and burst inside and she felt the hot fluid was inside her. and Willy slumped forward, pushing until every drop spurted out of him.
Tom listened to the commotion and went upstairs. He entered the room just as Willy was pulling his reddened cock out of Joan's ass. Joan was lying on the floor now and Tom, not to be outdone, took his pants off and crawled between her plump thighs. The globes of her ass were red and marked where Willy had pressed tightly against her. Tom slid his cock easily into her wet cunt, pumped a few times and pulled back out. It was like fucking wet air. He couldn't feel a thing. Fred's huge cock had stretched her flesh and filled her with his sperm until she was as slippery as an eel. He spied her tiny, sperm-soaked ass-hole, gleaming and tense and lunged forward, pushing his cock in. He slid in easily and tensed as the still tight, hard little muscle squeezed his excited cock. His nerves tingled and he leaned over the prostrate girl and pushed all the way inside her. Joan grunted under his weight as Tom hunched his body, pumped his cock into her, thrust his thick flesh in and out, faster and harder with each stroke until Joan was pushed forward on the floor. Tom worked harder and now he felt himself boiling and he lunged forward and burst inside her, spreading his hot sperm in her twitching ass-hole.
Fred had passed out on the bed now and Joan crawled on all fours. Her ass was on fire and her cunt tingled. She was exhausted and fell across the bed. Fred moved in his sleep and rolled over. Joan was out in a few minutes.
"Let's lock them in here," Willy said, gathering up his clothes.
Tom followed him out of the room and they walked downstairs. They found the whiskey on the floor and Willy held it up to the light, inspected the contents and took a drink. He passed it to Tom.
"I'm out on my feet. Let's get some rest," Tom said.
"Okay ... but tonight, you sleep on the floor."
Tom frowned as he curled up on the floor with the whiskey bottle. It wasn't long before Willy was snoring.
