It all began the first week of June when gold-haired Kathy Ellison had a lover's spat with her wiry, black-haired, twenty-eight-year-old fiance Joe McDougal. No doubt Joe's Scotch ancestry had a good deal to do with his deciding not to take his vacation the same two weeks that Kathy decided to take hers.
Kathy was twenty-two and, though technically a virgin, quite eager to change her status and to fulfill womanhood, though it was true she didn't intend to give up her cherry until Joe put the ring on her finger. She'd always felt that she was a one-man woman, and after about six months of dating Joe McDougal, had decided that he was the man. Yet there were certain things about him which fairly exasperated her. He was as stubborn as a balky Missouri mule, he had a quick temper, and he was much too practical for his own good. If it hadn't been unlady-like, she might have used a few four-letter words to explain to him just how she felt.
They had had dinner at The London House, enjoyed an after-dinner drink while listening to the cool jazz of the Miles Davis combo. She had looked at his lean profile and felt a sudden surge of eagerness pickling along her inner thighs. She knew that she couldn't very much longer keep up the game of being a hard-to-get virgin, because whenever she was around Joe McDougal, she started melting and her pussy started tickling the worst way. She also knew that if she ever got a taste of fucking, she would be so wild for it that Joe would probably think her cheap and easy to get, and then she might lose him. That was another good reason she had held herself back although her very insides had burned and churned with longing every time he held her in his arms and gave her one of those long hot good-night kisses.
Kathy's parents had separated when she was fourteen, remarried and were living at the other end of the country, her mother in Seattle and her father in San Diego. They really hadn't wanted her, and so her mother's older sister, Agatha Donald, had eagerly offered to be her legal guardian until she came of age. Agatha herself was a widow, her merchandising councilor husband having been killed in a freak automobile accident about ten years ago. When Kathy had gone to live with her, she had quickly made friends with her cousin, red--haired, seventeen-year-old Lorene. By now, the two young women were inseparable. Lorene was a computer programmer in a Northwest Side plant, while Kathy worked as a receptionist in a small ad agency in the McCormick Building on Chicago's Michigan Avenue.
Kathy had just found out this particular June evening that she was slated to take her vacation the first two weeks of July with an extra day thrown in because of the Fourth. And she had been trying to convince Joe McDougal all evening long that he ought to take his two weeks the same time as hers so perhaps they could go on a trip to the Dells or to New Orleans, that quaint, historic city both of them had always wanted to see. She knew perfectly well that if they did go on this vacation, she was going to persuade him to make it an elopement. One thing about Joe McDougal, even though he did have the power to turn her to jelly just by standing close to her and kissing her, he was the old-fashioned honorable type of guy who would marry a girl rather than ruin her reputation; And she figured that if she played her cards right and got him to come along on this vacation, she could overcome his scruples enough to get him to fuck her just once, and the next day they'd go find a justice of the peace and make it perfectly legal and proper. And then she was going to let herself enjoy what the od-fashioned storybooks used to call connubial rights!
"Well, darling, what do you think about the idea?" She leaned forward across the table and stared at her handsome escort.
"No, Kathy, I'd love to, but I'm not going to."
"But why not, for heaven's sake?"
"For a very good reason. You know I've had this job just about a year and the boss told me I'm in line for a sales managership. We're going to be awfully busy this summer, and we've lost a couple of guys and we haven't been able to get good trainees as replacements. So he asked me if I wouldn't mind giving up my vacation this summer. I'd get double pay, and I could always take time off maybe in January or February of next year when things ease off. Don't you see, Kathy? I could put the money away in the' bank for our future. Sure, I'd love to go along with you down to New Orleans, but it's much more sensible to start building for our future."
"You're a fine one, Joe-McDougal! So you're stingy about money? Well, that's not a very good sign for the future, I must say," she sniffed. Her magnificent high-perched round young tits rose and fell vigorously as her indignation grew. He glanced at her, and his eyes softened at the sight of those luscious boobs over which the soft blue summer frock clung so adheringly. Beneath that frock was an equally thin white nylon slip and still filmier white nylon bra. It was true that Joe McDougal believed in old-fashioned virtues, but it was also true that at that moment his prick was throbbing and it was all he could do to keep from propositioning Kathy to come back to his apartment and start pretending they were already married. Of course he knew he wasn't going to do that. Kathy was a decent girl, the kind he was going to marry, the kind who was going to bring up his kids. They'd already talked about that, and had agreed that four or five would be just right.
"There you go, Joe McDougal, being practical again!" Kathy's eyes were sparkling with irritation. "You're forgetting that my folks left me about ten thousand dollars and it's in the bank and it's a wonderful nestegg. Besides, after working a year, anybody ought to have a vacation, and you most of all. The way you drive yourself, I sometimes think you care more about your job than you do me."
"Don't go saying that, honey. In the first place, I don't care if you haven't got a cent. In the second place, I wouldn't touch that money of yours even if I was on the street begging. I'm going to earn the living for this family, so you'd better make up your mind to it. And I say I want to bank that double pay. Anyway, we can still have dates when you're on your vacation, and that's good enough for me.
"Well, it isn't for me. If you think more about double pay than being with girl and maybe even going off and getting married-doggone it, there I went and said it and I told myself I wasn't going to. Yes, Joe, I was going to lure you down in New Orleans and work my wiles on you so that you'd have to make an honest women of me. You see, you big goof, I was thinking about that precious bank account of yours, so we wouldn't have to spend a lot of money in a wedding. We'd just go to a justice of the peace and it would be as legal as in a church."
"You're a wonderful girl, Kathy, and I'm not trying to weasel out of anything. But I've got my principles. Besides, I've promised Mr. Murdock I'd work that extra time and he's counting on me. And I want that sales managership. It'll mean a big raise in salary and a lot of extra benefits that will come in handy when we get married, especially when we have kids."
Angry though she was at him, Kathy Ellison couldn't help blushing at that reference. There was nothing she would have liked better right then and there than for them to have got started on their offspring in the comfortable double bed of his apartment. But she was just as stubborn as he was, and she wasn't going to be the first one to give in. "Oh, all right, if that's the way you feel about it. Anyhow, I was thinking that maybe Lorene and I could drive around and spend my vacation sightseeing. She's never been out of Chicago, not really. And when I'm away, maybe you'll miss me enough so that when I come back you won't be counting your pennies. Maybe," she added airily, "I may even find myself another guy on the trip."
"Don't say a thing like that, honey. You know you don't mean it. I'm crazy about you and I'm going to marry you, and we both know it. Let's not go spouting off saying things we'll both be sorry for later," he pleaded.
"I haven't said anything I'm sorry for," she answered heatedly. "Next thing I know, if I do marry you, you'll probably want me to give up my job right away."
"Well, now that you mention it, yes."
"I thought so! You're a typical male, and you get all worked up when you think maybe your future wife wants a little freedom all her own. I like working for my agency, and once in a while I even get a chance to proofread copy, and maybe I'll even get to write some for real ads that get printed. Besides, the first year, I don't see anything wrong with keeping my job."
"I see," he said sarcastically. "First you read me the riot act because I'm stingy, and then you pick a quarrel because I'm being truthful when I say I'd rather not have you working after we get married. I think maybe on that vacation of yours, you ought to think it over before you go ahead and marry me."
"Yes, maybe I better had!" Kathy Ellison said, and then burst into illogical tears, got up from the table and left the restaurant.
That was how it all started. But even Kathy and much less Joe could never have dreamed how this first real tiff of theirs was the prelude to a nightmarish adventure that would indeed make Kathy wish she had been able to coax Joe to go along with her on that vacation, even if she had to be his sex slave without any thought of marriage....
CHAPTER TWO
On the very same evening that Kathy and Joe were having their first real disagreement, Lorene Donald was also out on a date. It was a date of which neither her cousin nor her mother knew anything at all, which was just as well for the latter's peace of mind. Although she was twenty-five and sophisticated and intensely desirable, Lorene Donald had absolutely no use for men when it came to satisfying the urges of her torrid cunt. At the very moment, indeed, When Kathy had got up in a fit of pique and walked out of the London House on her boyfriend, Lorene had just sobbingly exhaled her pleasure in a hot climax in the arms of Vanessa Claridge.
Lorene had first discovered the secret pleasures of Bilitis and Sappho during her senior year at high school. She had played in a girl's volleyball match between the seniors and the juniors, and she had scored the winning goal. It had been an exhausting and rugged game, and she had dallied a long time after her shower and dressed, by which time most of the girls had already left the locker room. All except Sophie Menton, an opulently ripe strawberry-blonde senior of eighteen. She had been waiting for Lorene, and she had come around the row of lockers to catch Lorene just pulling on her panties. "Oh, Lorene, honey, you play just wonderfully!" she had exclaimed. And then, her eyes feasting on Lorene's pert pear-shaped tits, she had put her hands on those tempting turrets and, pressing herself close to the redhead, kissed her passionately on the mouth.
Lorene's first impulse had been to push Sophie away, but the exquisite sensations which had once began to pervade her almost naked body halted that instinctive defense. Her mother, a schoolteacher herself, had brought Lorene up to be very careful with boys and had forbidden her to date until she was at least eighteen. That was a year away at the time and actually she had no inclination to disobey her mother's edict. She had generally found boys to be crude, gauche, noisy and selfish.
And so when Sophie Menton, who was already an expert lesbian, had begun to tweak her nipples with thumbs and forefingers, to glide her tongue delicately between Lorene's trembling lips, and to whisper flattering words of adoration and devotion, it had been quite easy for the young redhead to succumb.
Vanessa Claridge was a co-worker at the computer plant, two years younger than Lorene and herself a subordinate in the office to the intellectual redhead. Lorene had found her crying over her desk one afternoon at quitting time, lingered to find out what was the trouble, and discovered that Vanessa had just been jilted by a fellow she had been dating for three years and whom she had fervently believed intended to marry her. He hadn't got her pregnant or anything like that, but he had introduced her to fucking. Now he had eloped with a wealthy girl from Kenilworth and she had just read about it in the late afternoon paper. This had taken place just a week after their last date and she was completely crushed and vulnerable.
So much so, in fact, that Lorene, who had long had eyes for Vanessa's honey-haired, white-skinned, statuesque body, invited her to have dinner at her apartment. She consoled the unhappy blonde, delivered a lecture on the insidious treachery of men, saw that Vanessa drank a good deal of vintage Chablis, and very expertly sat beside her on the couch and began to caress her while crooning sympathetic words into Vanessa's by then quite receptive ear.
She had been amazed at the feverish passion her latest conquest had shown, and attributed it to Vanessa's having been awakened to pussy-pleasure by that graceless young man who had jilted her-for whom Lorene was quite willing to murmur a silent prayer of gratitude. Undoubtedly he had so conditioned Vanessa's ardent nervous system to physical appeasement that she offered no defense against Lorene's calculated lovemaking. Once blushingly naked (and even though timidly protesting that it was wrong), once she had felt Lorene's lips on one of her nipples and felt Lorene's fingers gliding down her belly to the thick mossy grotto of her cunt, she had entered into cuntrubbing almost with a frenzy. Thereafter, it had been quite easy for Lorene to teach her the exquisite, tantalizing bliss of being gammed. And of course Vanessa had wanted to show her gratitude, so Lorene taught her how to gamooch in turn, and thus procured for herself a devoted and exceptionally passionate and uninhibited paramour.
Although her mother still owned the little bungalo on Wellington Avenue where she had been born, Lorene had moved into her own apartment about a mile away from work three years ago, when she had first been offered the job. Agatha Donald was reconciled to her daughter's desire for independence, and her only real concern was that her daughter showed no signs of being interested in marriage at the almost spinsterish age of twenty-five.
"Oh darling, what am I going to do when you go on vacation? I'll be just lost, that's what I'll be," Vanessa sighed plaintively as she rolled over onto her side and began to fondle Lorene's widely spaced, high-perched pear-shaped boobs. The coppery-haired lesbian drew her hand delicately along Vanessa's smooth, warm slightly moist upper thigh and smiled knowingly: "It'll be just that nicer when I come back, dear. Besides, you get your vacation for just one week starting the second of mine, so it's really not as if it's going to be all that long till we see each other again. You weren't even there long enough to earn a week, but I have two coming. Maybe I'll take a trip or something, I don't know. But I'm flattered that you'll miss me, pet."
Vanessa was wearing just a gauzy white nylon lace-trim med slip, which was furled up to her armpits. Lorene, her coppery hair provocatively coiffed in a feathed bob, wore only smoke-colored nylons and a black satin-elastic garterbelt. Her face was oval, haughty, with straight nose and very thin, widely flaring wings, a thin, insolent mouth, and luminous gray-green eyes with golden flecks visible in the iris when fierce emotion gripped her-as it had just a few moments ago. Her skin was a pale milky tint embellished with tiny rosy speckles, the complexion of a natural redhead. There was sensual contrast in the dark-red thick fleece which framed her cunt as against the fiery, lighter shade which graced her lovely head.
"Would you like another glass of wine, dear? Reeny," Vanessa langurously murmured. "Oh yes, I would."
"I'll be back in a jiffy," Lorene smiled as she scrambled out of bed and hurried to the kitchen. Filling two glasses, she returned and handed one to her lover, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifted the glass to her lips as if to toast her naked, quivering and blushing paramour.
When she saw that Vanessa had almost finished her wine, she whispered, "Put that glass on the little table, darling." And when Vanessa had obeyed, she capriciously tilted her glass and poured the residue over Vanessa's thick cuntcurls. Vanessa began to squeal and wriggle, "Ooh, that tickles, it's cold!"
Then her giggles changed to almost hysterical sobbing and her fingers began to claw the rumpled sheets as the lesbian redhead, sinking her slim tapering fingers into the round, meaty cheeks of Vanessa's squirming ass, plunged her face against the pink maw of her lover's cunt and began lingeringly and delicately to lap up the wine with her scienced pink tongue.
CHAPTER THREE
Kathy and Lorene were on their way to New Orleans, and it was the third day of their vacation. Kathy had her own secondhand Dodge Polara, and the mechanic at the shop had tuned it up and put it into good working order for the trip. She had had just one phone call from Joe McDougal, and although he had apologized for flying off the handle on their last date, he still refused to take his vacation when she did so they could be together. She coldly informed him that she and Lorene were going to have themselves a nice trip down South and then maybe she would call him when she got back and maybe she wouldn't. And that was how they parted.
The route which Kathy had marked on the map she had picked up at the Chicago Motor Club led them through Arkansas and Mississippi. Lorene had always wanted to see the great river, and Kathy herself, who had never been South before, was in full accord with her lesbian cousin. Lorene secretly hoped that these two weeks, bringing them so close together as it would, might enable her to convert gorgeous Kathy to the sweet perversities of girl fucking. And when she heard that Kathy had had a row with Joe, she smiled inwardly, because that was exactly the rebound mood in which she wanted to find her younger cousin. Both young women had said goodbye to Lorene's mother, Agatha, and the latter was quite pleased that Lorene was going along with Kathy. Perhaps she wouldn't have been quite so enthusiastic if she could have known what awaited her daughter and niece at the end of the journey....
In the little Mississippi town of Poin-dexter, a few miles off the main highway which Kathy and Lorene were taking on their way to New Orleans, Sheriff Bill Bayliss was enjoying a relaxing evening after working a hard day under the broiling sun with the chain gang. As law officer of the county, one of his several duties was standing guard with the deputies over a group of about a hundred prisoners assigned from the Shelby County Prison to repair the roads and do other necessary labor around the environs of poindexter. It would look good on his record, when he came up for re-election this November, to have all this work done without costing the Poindexter taxpayers a penny. And of course he wasn't making a penny out of the arrangement with the warden. There was, nevertheless, a few "fringe benefits" which he knew exactly how to obtain. Two of them were in his house right now, locked up in a closet and waiting for his good pleasure while he finished his supper with his sister, Cora.
Bill Bayliss was forty-two, fat, bald, and lecherous. He was a bachelor, and he and Cora had shared this house for the past ten years ever since their parents had died. Cora Bayliss, thirty-nine, was tall, angular, black-haired and sternfaced. She was a spinster, and in her own way for the same reason that her brother was a bachelor, Cora Bayliss derived her sexual appeasement from the subjugation of helpless young women whom her brother so obligingly provided through her legal powers.
To be sure, Cora had found the male act of fucking extremely distasteful, but she had learned to hide her feelings if she expected her brother to oblige her with his leavings when he had obtained his own satisfaction from the unfortunate runaways, vagrants, or reformatory prisoners sometimes remanded into his custody. Then she could play the role of consolatress, comfort the weeping girls after they had had a good whipping and then a vigorous fucking from her brother, and gently and adroitly steer them into her own particular penchants for serving her as love slaves. A few years ago, an a visit to Atlanta, Cora had seen a theatrical novelty supply shop which featured a display of leather and rubber domination costumes. She had spent a good deal of her personal money in a wardrobe of the garments, with appropriate footgear and gloves to match, as she was especially fond of dressing herself in gleaming leather and high-heeled boots when the trembling females were turned over to her for "consolation." In her way, perhaps, she was even more sadistic than her brother, though she certainly rationalized her actions by believing that she was certainly more tender with these poor darlings than a cruel man would be. Bill Bayliss understood her only too well, and allowed her occasionally to sermonize at him when her conscience was troubling her more than usual.
This particular week, Cora hadn't had any girl-loving for nearly a month, and in Bill Bayliss' opinion, she was going to be so hard up for pussy creaming that she wouldn't much care how he had to come by these two sluts now waiting in the closet for punishment.
They were really handsome bitches, and they were sisters, which made it even nicer. One was black-haired, seventeen, tall and willowy, Jessica Morgan. Her sister was sixteen, santly-haired, plump and extremely shy, Cantly. The Morgan girls had worked at the Poindexter Department Store for a short spell, and old man Coverly, the owner, had accused them of theft and preferred charges against them directly to Sheriff Bayliss. It would mean the reformatory at Shelby. However, the sheriff had had a private chat with Horace Coverly and got the old fool to admit that he. was really pissed off at them because they wouldn't come to his house and fuck. They were orphans and living with an old grandfather who got drunk every now and then. "All I tried to do, Sheriff," Horace Coverly had whiningly complained, "was offer them a good home and an education."
"Sure, I know, Horace. 'Course they'd have to open their legs and let you stick your old dick in every now and again to pay them back, but you had a good thought there. Now you listen to me, you can't make that charge of theft stand up and you damn well know it. Tell you what I'll do, Horace. You done me a few favors in my day, so I'll do you one. Why don't I take these two little bitches to my house, and my sister Cora can look after them for about a week, see? I'll throw the fear of God into them, I'll tell them they'd better be nice to you or they might wind up in the reformatory for fair. After that, you'l be on your own. Only don't try conniving with the law lessen you take me into your little game. Now don't you fret none, I'll break them in good for you, see if I don't," he had promised.
So now as he finished his evening cigar and belched to show his sister that he had enjoyed her pork chops and black-eyed peas and lemon cream pie and strong coffee, he slowly got up and winked at Cora Bayliss. "You wanta rest up a little now, Sis, and lemme go ahead and break those cute little bitches in?"
"Please, dear brother," Cora Bayliss sanctimoniously said, grimacing with annoyance, "must you be so borish? You know how much profane language disconcerts me."
"Oh don't give me that crap, Cora," he laughed good naturedly. "You know damn well you're creamin' in your panties to be at those young 'uns."
"I do wish you wouldn't talk that way, really, Bill," she sniffed.
He chuckled, because he could see right through her. She was looking down at her plate, but he could see that her boobs were starting to heave a lot, and that meant that she was all itchy and hot for her little games. But he came first in this house. "All right then, you have another cup of coffee and lemme put the fear in them, and I'll turn them over to you, how's that?" he affably proposed.
"Do what you have to, but please don't make me a party to it, Bill," she said in a distant voice, looking away as if it pained her.
"Ain't you the one though, Cora, Reckon you'll go to church next Sunday and say a prayer for my evil, wicked soul. Oh well, don't matter none. Leastaways, not to little Jessica and Cantly, they sure 'nuff are gonna get their cute asses whupped one way or another, no matter what you call it. You just set there easy now, Sis, I'll handle things good."
With this, belching again, and taking a good puff at his cigar, the paunchy bald sheriff ambled towards has bedroom in the closet of which he had locked up Jessica and Cantly since four o'clock this afternoon. He had been called over to the department store to pick up the girls, locked them up and then driven back out to tell Horace Coverly what was really going to be done. It hadn't taken long to convince the old fool that his was the right way in Poindexter. And he knew that when he finally did turn over Jessica and Cantly to old Horace, he was going to get a couple of extra votes this November because Coverly always told his employees how he wanted them to vote, or else. Yes, for a man who knew how to pull strings, there were all sorts of unexpected little profits in this crummy job.
"Come on out, you two," he growled as he unlocked the closet door and leered with anticipation at the two frightened, cowering sisters. "I s'pose you'll want to go to the can, so make it fast. Then you got punishment comin'."
"Ohh-wh--what are y-youg-going to do to us, S-Sheriff?" the younger, riper girl, Cantly, quavered.
"You'll see," he grinned. "Now make it fast. If you're hungry, that's too damn bad. You can eat after you've had what's comin' to you."
Jessica and Cantly hurried to the bathroom and closed the door while he chewed at his cigar and hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. "Hurry it up in there, you little polecats!" he bawled.
At last the door opened and the two frightened sisters emerged. "You jist come along with me to the woodshed," Bill Bayliss ordered, smacking his lips with relish over what was going to happen. But this was the way Cora wanted it. He'd take his prisoners out to the woodshed, larrup their asses until they had learned their lesson real good, and then he'd tie them up and leave them there. Pretty soon, when Cora felt like it, she would get into one of her crazy outfits, and then she would go in and tend to them good and proper.
Bill Bayliss didn't hold with this newfangled nonsense which his siter seemed so set on, dressing up in leather and boots and junk like that. But he had to admit that whenever she had taken over, the little bitches always seemed to be much more humble and eager to please once he came back for them. His particular pick tonight was Jessica, because he liked them tall and slinky and sort of snotty. Jessica thought she was some pumpkins, and he was going to enjoy giving her an extra-hard ass warming after he had polished off Cantly's plump bottom. That would make her have to wait and watch what was happening and think about what was going to happen to her next.
The sadistic sheriff urged the two girls on into the woodshed, reached inside and pulled, the light cord. It was a large enough shack,' and he had added a few conveniences for his own special enjoyment. Like the two-by-four sawhorse sitting over there in the right-hand corner, just waiting to have a pretty girl ride it with her legs streched way out and her hairly little slit bearing down on the sharp top. And the thing he was proudest of was what he called his "spanking ladder," which was nothing more than two planks of wood nailed into the floor and angling up at a forty-five-degree angle to fit against a solid upright plank which was attached to both the floor and the ceiling and was real solid. He had got some brackets at the hardware store and fitted them to these planks at the top and the bottom, so that the girl's ankles and wrists could be tied to them and spread them nicely open. There was a space between the planks, so with a good lick of the switch on her bare ass, she would lunge forward between them and there would be an awful stress an her limbs, which would aid to her punishment and make her all the more eager to come across when he proposed that she might prefer a good fucking to more switching.
Finally, in the woodshed, and to the left, there was a heavy metal barrel to which were fixed two metal rings, used for the binding of a victim's wrists. Often the sheriff had draped a sobbing, pleading runaway or a vagrant or again, as with the two trembling sisters whose eyes were fixed with growing apprehension on these sinister apparatuses, girls whose parents or employees had besought him to chastise good sense back into them, hoisted up her clothes and lowered her panties and then preceded to inflict a sound thrashing with a flat barrel stave or a strap.
"Oh please, S-Sheriff Davis," Cantly Morgan whimpered, "don't hurt us, please don't! We didn't mean to steal nuttin', honest we didn't!"
"I heard different from old man Cloverly," the fat sadist chuckled. "Seems like you both were real sassy to your big boss, and he won't allow that no how. Now you got your choice, Cantly and Jessica, and I'll spell it out for you right quick. Either you take a spell in the reformatory at Shelby, and I promise you the matrons up there like nothing better than to whale pretty young asses like yours, or else you 'fess up how naughty you've been. That way, sure, you get whaled right now, but after you've had your lickin', you can go back home free as a bird. 'Course you gotta 'pologize to old man Cloverly, that's only fair. Now, what's it gonna be?"
Cantly and Jessica exchanged an agonized look. They realized that they were trapped and that the lesser evil of the two was to submit themselves humbly and with docility in the hope of gaining some small leniency. So it was Jessica who, straightening her shoulders, trying to be brave, took a deep breath and stammered, "We--we'll take the licking, sheriff. Only please don't hurt us too much, please! Even our folks never licked us too hard."
"There, you see?" he triumphantly crowed. "That's your trouble right there, girl. Now I'm just gonna be like a father to you, as you might say. Now then, Cantly, you take off your dress so it won't get toen or dirty none. And be right quick about it too! You, Jessica girl, you go stand right astride that sawhorse there. You can hold onto it with your hands and watch. It'll give you an idea of what it's gonna be like when it's your turn."
Terror stricken, Cantly whimpered and sent another frantic glance at her black-haired sister, but Jessica, in her own apprehension, had hurried over to the sawhorse and awkardly got astride it, finding that she had to stand on tiptoe to prevent the hard ridge from biting into her tender cunt through her thin clothes. Seeing that there was no help coming in any direction for her, Cantly Morgan tearfully began to draw off her dress. Under it she had a cheap white cotton slip and this too was ordered off. When it fluttered to the dirt floor of the shed, she stood in the scanty deshbille of matching white cotton bra and panties and sandals, for which she wore neither stockings nor garterbelt.
"Now then, Cantly baby, jist you lay yourself over that barrel and stick your hands out near those handles." Sheriff Bayliss ordered.
"Oh please, S--Sheriff, don't t-tie me, please don't, I--I won't run away!! Cantly was already beginning to sob, and her face was red with the shame of having exposed herself to a man. He had half a notion that neither of the girls was a virgin, because their own grandfather was soused so much of the time and never really cared what was going on. And they were built, these two bitches, really built to take a man's cook and drain it of every drop.
"Jist keep talking, Cantly, and you'll get twice as much," he impatiently countered. "Now, you gonna lay yourself over that barrel, or do you want me to fix you up?"
With a frightened little cry, the plump santlyh aired girl draped herself over the heavy barrel, looking back at him in mounting fear as he approached, two lengths of rope ready for her fettering. She began to cry softly as he looped one end of each rope over a slim wrist and made the other end fast to the ring on each side. Thus she was pulled down with her bottom at an ideal angle for spanking, while her legs were left free to kick and wriggle all she wanted.
Cantly Morgan was about five feet four and a half inched in height, her hair braided into a thick pigtail which hung just below her shoulders. Her face was round, almost bovine, with a dainty snub nose, large, widely-spaced blue eyes and a ripe, tremulous mouth. Her thighs were plump and perhaps a triffle short for perfection, her calves ripely rounded, but it was her bottom that fascinated Sheriff Bill Bayliss as his eyes squinted at the jutting, spacious rounds whose rather broad furrow was shaped out by the extremely tight-clinging cotton panties, thanks to the exagerated uprearing posture which the barrel compelled her to take.
There wasn't enough play in the rope round her wrist connecting to the metal rings to enable her to wriggle off either end of the barrel, but she could move a great deal within that limited range, and that was precisely what she wanted. Meanwhile, from her position standing astride the sawhorse and facing him, Jessica Morgan was pale and trembling with her own terror over what was going to befall her after her younger sister's punishment.
He moved to the extreme corner of the shed closest to him, reached for a light, short barrel stave and brandished it. It stung, and made a loud noise and did no real damage to the tender bottom of the victim. As he straightened and came back towards her, Cantly, her face twisted back to the left and her eyes bulging and glassy with tears, uttered a wailing cry: "Oh, no. Sheriff, please don't swat my heinie with that, please don't, oh, I'll be good, I'll be awful good!"
"I know yer gonna be, baby," he chuckled salaciously. "If you two bitches hadda steal some dough, why didja hafta git yourselves caught, 'specially when old man Coverly had it in for you, huh? Well now, Cantly, let's see what I got to work on here, shall we?"
With this, tucking the barrel stave under his left arm, he grasped the waistband of her thin cotton panties with both hands and savagely riped off the scanty veil. Cantly utteres a frightening shriek and tried to grind herself against the barrel, in a pathetic attempt to diminish the all to plump and vulnerable globes of her ample young ass. His right palm roamed lingeringly over the flinching satiny cheeks, patting and stroking and even pinching, while Cantly burst into tears and closed her eyes and shuttered helplessly.
Jessica's eyes were hugely dilated and she stared with a kind of anguished fascination at the pale milky amplitude of her young sister's bared posterior. But she saw also that his prick was obscenely thrusting against the fly of his trousers, and she colored hotly when he looked up to stare mockingly at her as if to tell her that her turn was next.
Transferring the stave to his right hand, he moved to the left of the sobbing younger girl, pressed the flat surface across the broadest curves of the summit, and then applied pank with energetic vigor. The sonorous crackkk! of the flexible wood rang out lasciviously as it made impact with Cantly's bare behind, and the santly-haired victim lifted her face to utter a shrill squeal of pain, kicking up one pretty sandalled foot. His eyes devoured the flaming mark left by the very first blow. Here was an ass to work on, one that would take plenty of thrashing without any permanent damage whatsoever. It would really get him randy and ready for Jessica, for she was the one he intended to fuck.
Moreover, making her watch her sister's punishment and then know that her own time would be at hand was a highly effective way of subjugating her and breaking her sassy spitit. In this crude way, Sheriff Bayliss was a master of sadistic coercion.
Cantly Morgan's big round closely spaced boobs mashed against the other side of the barrel as she flattened herself under the stinging swat. She began to sob frantically as Sheriff Bayliss lifted the stave and then swung it down sharply to crack wickedly over the upper slopes of her jutting buttocks bottomcheeks. A strident cry attested to the pain and shock of the spank, and this time both legs kicked up, one of her sandals flying off.
"Don't tight it, Cantly honey," he lecherously advised as he patted her crimsoned behind with the flat stave. "I've only just started, and you've got plenty comin' to you. The idea, trying to swipe money out of the register-a ten-year-old-would have known better than that, 'specially in a store like old man Coverly'!" With this, he administered the third spank across both lower summits, and Cantly once again stiffened over the barrel, as if to compress her body and diminish its all to vulnerable nudity to the flexible spanker. Her piercing cry delighted the lecherous law officer, and again he gloatingly patted her cringing posterior all over to heighten her suspense.
"Oh please don't, oh Sheriff, it hurts so, lemme off, please, I won't never steal again, just started, and you've got plenty comin' to you. The idea, trying to swipe money out of the register-a ten-year-old would have known better than that, 'specially in a store like old man Coverly'!" With this, he administered the third spank across both lower summits, and Cantly once again stiffened over the barrel, as if to compress her body and diminish its all to vulnerable nudity to the flexible spanker. Her piercing cry delighted the lecherous law officer, and again he gloatingly patted her cringing posterior.
Each time the stave had cracked against her naked behind, she had convulsively yanked her bound wrists against the tight cords, chafing them cruelly. As for Jessica, still standing tiptoe with her hands in front of her grasping the ridge of the sawhorse and facing the law officer, her eyes were huge and dark with apprehension. Her tits rose and fell erratically against her red cotton minidress. And standing tiptoe as she was, it hiked the skirt up well past the middle of her svelte, lithe thighs, sheathed in tan-colored pantyhose.
"I'll say you ain't never gonna steal again, you cute little bitch," Bill Bayliss thickly chuckled as he delivered another crack of the stave, this one across just the right globe of her squirming, tightening naked bottom. "You and Jessica here are going to be the most obedient little bitches in town, see if you ain't by the time I finish both you off!"
Now, feasting his eyes on the flaming marks which the stave had left on Cantly's milky-skinned bottom, and enjoying the incessant squirming of her hips and thighs as she tried to shift herself over the hard barrel and find an easier posture in which to endure her martyrdom, he resumed his spanking. But this time it was with a series of quick, stinging whacks, which "touched up" one buttock at a time, but without pattern, so that the unfortunate young girl could not prepare herself to resist the next blow. Sometimes he would lay three quick stinging cuts over the base of her right buttock, then the next one would fall along the outer edge of her left hip, while the fifth was applied solidly across the lower summits of both huddling globes.
By the time he had reached twenty-five, Cantly was wailing at the top of her lungs, her bottom a violent red hue, and her legs were frenziedly kicking up and down, as she shifted and rubbed herself back and forth in the limited range which her bonds allowed. But these kicks and wild flurries enabled him to see the dark-brown tufts of cunthair framing the soft pink gape of her slit, and also, in the contractions on yawning of her burning behind, a glimpse now and then of the dainty rosette of her asshole.
"There," he panted after the last swat which had drawn a frantic yell from the santly-haired culprit, "that ought to hold you for a bit, baby. Now then, Jessy honey, it's your turn!"
"Oh, Gawd, S--Sheriff, don't whup me, not like that, I'll do anything you say, honest I will!" Jessica Morgan panted, her voice dry and faint with fear as she saw him approach the sawhorse. She clutched it in front of her, and by now the tension of keeping her legs straddled and bearing down on the toes of her cheap imitaion-leather pumps had made the muscles of her calves and thighs ache.
"Get off that sawhorse and pull your duds off, fast," he instructed. "You're older and you ought to-have known better, Jessy."
By now, to be sure, his prick was straining against his fly in savage energy to be freed and to seek out the tight confines of either of these choice young cunts. Meanwhile, poor Cantly lay sobbing as if her heart would break, still tied to the barrel with her flaming bottom upreared in the most salacious way imaginable.
Jessica stepped off the sawhorse, and hastily began to tug off her minidress. Under it, she wore only a pink cotton bra with bandeau and the pantyhose. She excited him a good deal more than Cantly, whose charms were much too plump and obvious. Jessica Morgan was five seven and a half inches in height, delicately proportioned. Perhaps it was true that her thighs and calves were a bit longish and a triffle too lean for real beauty, but she more than compensated for that in the spacious, narrowly set ovals of her magnificent resilient ass, and in the stunningly appetizingly big, closely spaced pears of her boobs which strained against the thin pink bra.
"That's right now, gal," his voice was hoarse with longing, "now slip down that thing whatever it is to-your knees, and git yourself back over that horse-with your ass up in the air. I'm going to paddle you good, Jessy. You're gonna git lots more than Cantly ever did, you can bet on that.
"Oh no, please, no, Gawd, S-Sheriff, I can't stand a whuppin' like that, honest I can't! I'll do anything you say, I swear I will, please, please don't whup me, and don't tie me on this awful thing, it'll hurt me."
"Sure it will. Right between those long, sexy legs of yours, bitch," he grinned. "Now you do what I tell you to, or I'll cowhide you, and that'll peel the skin off that sassy ass of yours until you can fry eggs on it, hear me?"
Whimpering, tears running down her cheeks, Jessica Morgan slowly tugged down the pantyhose to her kneehollows, and straightened, her hands at once clamping over the extremely black curls of her cunt. He sucked in his breath with lewd admiration. Her belly was flat and smooth, with a deep and very narrow navel. Her skin was a warm olive, and 'he could see a tiny brown oval birthmark just along the ribcage below her left tit. "Well, I am glad to see you got sense to do what I tell you to, Jessy," he remarked as he stared greedily at her. "Now I want you to tell me the truth, 'cause if you don't, it's gonna be worse for you. You ever been screwed, girl?"
"Y-yes, s--sir," she quavered in an inaudible voice, bowing her head, while two great tears slowly rivuleted down her flushed cheeks.
"Why, you dirty little bitch you! Who done it? Now you tell me, Jessy Morgan, or I'll really cowhide your ass!!" he warned
"It was-it was a fr-fellow at school, S-Sheriff. Honest, we jist done it twice, that's all."
"I'll bet you jist done it twice," he mocked. "And here you are, 'n Cantly tellin' old man Coverly you wouldn't screw, when all the time you been fucking around with a kid. What about Cantly there? Has she still got her cherry? I want the truth, girl!"
"N--no, Sheriff, she hasn't either. This fellow, T--Tom, his buddy Ed, we had double dates, and-and--and" Jessica Morgan's voice trailed off, her hands pressing even more tightly against her cunt, as she shrank before her greedy stare.
"Beats all how you gals figure things out," he shook his head. "Now what the matter with old man Coverly? He's got lots of dough, he'd be real nice to you gals."
"Oh, S-Sheriff, he old 'n' fat 'n' ugly, and he-he pinches-and he's got bad breath-" Jessica Morgan faltered.
"So I suppose I'm that way too, and you'd turn me down if I asked, huh?" he growled. "Now then, you jist git on that horse and let your arms and legs hang down and I'll strap you on. I'm gonna give your ass a real whaling, Jessy girl."
"Oh please don't, oh no Sheriff, I didn't mean you were like that, it's just we don't like him-please, please, if you want-you can have me-sure you can, Sheriff, jist please don't wh-wh-whup me!" she sobbed.
He was almost bursting by now, but he wanted to complete his subjugation of the older, black-haired girl. Jessica Morgan's shimmering, jet-black hair was combed out into a long pageboy with the curls turned under, falling just below her shoulderblades. It intensified the warmth of her naked olive-sheened skin, and it immeasurably inflamed his rut.
"Now let's get this straight, Jessy," he growled as he came closer to the trembling, almost naked black-haired teenager. "You're bribin' me to give you a good fucking instead of a whupping, is that right?"
"If-if you want that from me, S--Sheriff, oh yes, I'll do anything if you don't whup me!" the girl stammered.
He reached round behind her to unhook the bra and let it flutter to the dirt floor of the shed. Jessica Morgan gasped but made no effort to hide her boobs, though a fiery-red blush suffused her tearstained face. Her tits had narrow aurolae, very dark and concentrated, with firm, rather large nipples projecting from the centers. He licked his lips in anticipation of the carnal gratification he was going to have from her. "But I'll tell you this," he continued. "You gotta do what old man Coverly wants if I send you back and don't have you locked up at Shelby, is that clear?"
She nodded miserably.
"All right, you better keep your word. Now I tell you what. I told him I was gonna whup you good, but seein' as how you're so nice and obligin', I'll jist let you off with a little warmup. So you climb on that horse and I'll tie you down."
"Oh. you promised-you promised, S-Sheriff! Oh please don't whup me, please don't tie me on that awful thing!" she begged.
"Now you git on before I lose my patience with you, Jessy Morgan," he snarled, clenching his fists and taking a step towards her. With a cry of fright, the naked teenager turned around and got astride the horse and slowly laid herself down along its top, letting her arms and legs dangle free. She whimpered as the ridge pressed into her furry cunt, and she sobbed with fear as he squatted down to tie her wrists and ankles.
Then, yanking down his zipper and baring his swollen prick, he unlooped his belt from his trousers, and swished it in the air. Cantly, from her position behind him and to the back could plainly see not only his prick but her sister's twitching, flinching ass and the long spasmodic ripples of the thigh muscles.
He raised the belt and brought it down smartly and diagonally from her right hip, leaping over the tight crease of her asscheeks to the inner edge of the lower summit of the left buttock. Jessica Morgan leaped under the lash and uttered a shrill cry of pain. A second blow, crisscrossing and backhanded, left a bright pink X on the hitherto unmarred olive-sheened globes, which shrank and contracted and shuttered as he stepped back and let the belt dangle to the floor while he studied his handiwork.
The third cut of the belt clung the leather over the tops of her struggling hips, while the fourth slashed the base of both jutting asscheeks. At this stroke, Jessica's hips lunged upwards, then from side to side as she tried to arch her cunt off the chaffing ridge of the sawhorse and her head tilted back with a frantic, strident sobbing cry.
"I'm warming your ass so you can fuck like a mink, bitch," he chuckled lewdly. The belt rose and fell viciously, with a sharp crisp intonation against her shuddering, distended bottomsummits. A loud wail greeted this burning cut, but Sheriff Bayliss continued to lay the belt on with wide stripes from right to left as he progressively decorated poor Jessica's writhing behind with bright pink stripes which crossed both cheeks, three from the summits from the hips, and three more from the middle of her wriggling ass down to the tops of her straining thighs.
Her loud frantic cries made her sister burst into helpless tears of fright and compassion, and at last the law officer stepped back, his face purpled with rut, the lips of his prick twitching savagely in the urge to spurt. "Think you can be a good bitch and know your place from now on, Jessy?" he demanded, and punctuated his question with a final sweeping slash of the belt which leaped from her left hip down across the huddling, streaked satiny globes to the base of her right buttock.
"No," she pouted, blood dripping from her wounds. "Never!"
Then the whip cut off her proud words.
The whip cut her again, and then again. She bore the torture with the strength of her being, the humanity of her soul.
When it was over, he took her out of doors with him, knocking her about wildly until she could no longer stand it.
She knew what the future held in store for her. She knew that it was about time to give in, or to at least give up.
She looked helplessly at him.
He looked at her with a look of obscene lust, a look of torture that spoke of his lewd desires for her as an animal being, and not as a woman at all.
Outside, he threw her about, letting her fall on the ground until she was fatigued beyond fatigue and aching beyond anything she had thought imaginable.
He grabbed her every time she dropped, pulling her up again and pushing her onward. She knew, deep down, where he would throw her, and dreaded it. She knew she was headed for the woodshed.
And, indeed, she was right.
He took her and threw her into the woodshed and locked the door with the padlock. Sated, lighting a fresh cigar, he walked back to the house and entered the living room where Cora was busy reading a magazine. "They're waiting for you, Sis," he grinned. "I don't think you're gonna have much trouble with them. They're just about ready to do anything you want. Have fun, Sis, and don't do anything I wouldn't do,"
"Oh Bill," she said disgustedly, "you can be so irritating at times, I do declare!"
He guffawed loudly as he flung himself down on the armchair and grabbed a copy of Playboy. Cora hurried to her bedroom and, breathless with excitement, stripped naked and then put on a black leather corselet which cinched her in from the tops of her tits to the base of her buttocks, a thin strap gusseting her between the legs and pressing tightly against her itching cunt. Then, drawing on her knee-length black leather boots with stiletto heels and her shoulder-length matching gloves, she left the house and went out to the woodshed, using a duplicate key to the padlock.
When she entered, Both Cantly and Jessica uttered simultaneous cries of fright, and when they say the sadistic lesbiam dominatress standing there studying their naked, quivering bodies, a sinking terror took possession of them.
"i see you've had your spanking, girls," she dryly commented. "Now I'm going to let you go in a little while, but first you're going to get punished by me. Seeing hoe you both don't have any mother, you need a woman's hand to teach you how to be good." She moved to the back of the shed and stooped to pick up a worn, polished leather sole. She liked the noisy smack of it on a girl's naked seat, and as she could already see from the state of Cantly's and Jessica's bottoms, a further spanking with this implement would cause intense pain because of the preliminary "warmup" which her sadistic brother had given them.
"Oh gosh, Miss Bayliss, please, you aren't going to sp--spank us anymore, are you, oh please don't!" Cantly sobbed as she tried uncomfortably to shift herself over the hard wooden barrel over which she was still draped and tied by the wrists.
"You naughty little bitch," Cora Bayliss scolded as she drew up the low footstool and seated her at her ease behind the sobbing santly-haired culprit, "you ought to be grateful Mr. Bayliss and I are looking after you, or you'd be in Shelby, both of you, for sure. And if you think you've had a hard spanking already, which I can see you haven't, you'd wish you'd never been born if you ever got in there with those matrons and their rubber hoses. Now you just hold still, Cantly Morgan, because I'm going to touch up that big bottom of yours and make it hurt, just as a reminder to be a good girl and do what your elders tell you to, you hear me?"
So saying, she reached out and posed her gloved left palm on the small of the sobbing younger girl's back. Them lifting the sole, she began to apply it with vehement whacks all over the already inflamed plump asscheeks.
Cantly squealed and sobbed and begged hysterically, but Cora Bayliss, her eyes glittering and her boobs heaving tumultously, was deaf to her entreaties. Not till she had applied at least fifty spanks and left poor Cantly's ass swollen and dark-reddened with scorching pain, did she at last relent and rise form the footstool.
"Now do you think you can be good, young lady?" she demanded as she moved round to the other side and, stooping, seized Cantly's foot long pigtail in her left hand and yanked the girl's tearstained, congested face up towards her own.
"Ohh, aww, y-y-yes, M-Miss B-Bayliss, I'll do jist about anything, only please lemme go now, oh it hurts, I'm dyin', I can't stand it anymore, honest I can't, I'll do anything you say!" Cantly capitulated.
"What about you, Jessica?" the dominatress demanded.
Jessica, still squirming and groaning from the vigorous if comparatively brief thrashing she had recieved and then the savage fucking, immediately gasped, "On yes, M--Miss Bayliss, I'll obey you, I'll do jist like you tell me to, honest I will, but please let me off anymore, please!"
"We'll see if you can keep your promise, girl. I'm going to touch you up a little too, so get ready."
With this, Cora approached the sawhorse and, pressing her left hand down hard on Jessica's smooth naked back to force her cunt even more cruelly against the ridge of the sawhorse, began to spank the already vividly streaked oval-shaped ass of the older girl with energetic blows that made the sole dance off the flaming, resilient flesh of Jessica Mogan's upturned and distended posterior.
After she had regaled the unfortunate brunette with thirty stinging smacks of the sole, she again asked the victim if she were ready to obey and recieved an hysterical affirmative.
Then, unfastening the gusset strap of the corselet and exposing her thickly fleeced mount, she seized Cantly's pigtail in her left hand, and then cupped the girl's chin with her right hand. "Get busy then," she snapped, "start loving me with your mouth and tongue, you hear! That's it, press it right into my snatch-do it good now, or you'll stay here all night!"
Cantly Morgan lost no time in obeying. Feverishly, she began to gam the dominatress. Midway through this attunement, Cora Bayliss released the sobbing and trembling naked young girl, and moved over to the sawhorse. Then, seizing the long sheaf of Jessica's black curls and cupping the girl's chin with the other hand, she commanded Jessica to finish what her younger sister had started. And it was only when she had finally been drawn to orgasm that at last she languidly released the two weeping young girls, let them dress, and then led them back into the house. They would sleep there overnight, and then be sent to old man Coverly's house. Sheriff Bill Bayliss knew that the old man would be grateful for the way he had "broken in" these two delectable orphans. There would be plenty of extra votes for him this November as the result of the pleasure he has had from "disciplining" these two innocent and helpless victims.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was Thursday morning and Kathy Ellison had missed a turnoff which would have taken her on the road to Biloxi, where she and Lorene were heading before they finally wound up in New Orleans to enjoy most of their two-week vacation in the city of the Mardi Gras. Consequently, Kathy found herself on a winding, narrow road which, though it seemed to be properly paved, wasn't even shown on the map. She had gone about six miles when she noticed this, and when she did stop and pored over the map, she and Lorene decided to keep on going. After all, this was really their first trip down South and everything was new.
But as she started up the car, she was heading down the road which led, about six miles farther on, to the chain gang which was working under the supervision of Sheriff Bill Bayliss. They were engaged in completing this road which would connect from Castree through Poindexter and help the farmers take produce from one town to the other.
Sheriff Bayliss was in a good mood. Before he had driven out to take over the prisoners from his two deputies, he had delivered Jessica and Cantly back to Horace Cloverly, and he had made the little bitches say their little piece, that they were awfully sorry that they had stolen money from dear Mr Cloverly and that they were going to try to work very hard and make it up to him. He had winked at the old man, because he knew just what that was going to mean as far as they were concerned. There would be no doubt that Jessica and Cantly, after hours, would be very busy kneeling down and sucking old man Coverly into a state of hardness sufficient to cram himself into their tight sweet young cunts. He was sorry to see them go but there would be other girls along.
But one of the prisoners on the chain gang had been giving him trouble ever since the bastard had been turned over to the county gang about five months ago. He was Amos Curley, he was black and ornery, about thirty-five, and he was going to do ten-to-twenty for being stupid enough to try to hold up a bank in Casawaba, about fifty miles to the Southeast. Sheriff Bayliss was going to have to lock Amos up in the hole and maybe give him a taste of the rubber truncheon or the cat before very much longer.
And then it happened. Some how the Negro had got his leg chains loosened, and while the sheriff was talking to Lem Jones and Dick Snodgrass, his two deputies, Amos decided to make a break for it. He rolled down into a little ravine just off the road, crawled along his belly for a few yards, and then started out through the thick Buffalo grass, waist-high, and good enough to hide a man if he weren't looking too closely.
He had managed to reach a little copse of fir trees when suddenly lanky towheaded Lem Jones yelled, "Hey Sheriff, that black bastard's gittin' away!"
"Why that no-good nigger! Sheriff Bayliss swore, "I'll git him. You stay here, Lem and Dick, and keep those guards making those rock pilers shake the lead out of their asses or they'll get the hole." Drawing his heavy Colt .45, he began to lumber after the fleeing Negro. At about the same time, the Dodge Polara driven by Kathy Ellison turned the bend in the road near the copse of trees, and Amos darted out from behind a tree and gasped. "Lemme git in, please, they'll kill me!"
Kathy stopped the car with a cry, and Lorene recoiled with horror at the sight of the heavyset Negro. Then a shot rang out and Amos Curley stiffened, uttered a gurgling cry and sprawled on the road. His prison term had just been shortened forever.
Sheriff Bayliss came puffing up, his face red, his eyes squinting as he holstered his Colt. "What the hell are you two dames doing on this road?" he angrily demanded. "Didn't you see the sign, STAY OFF-PRISONERS, plain as day on the road marker?"
"No, we didn't, I'm sorry. I guess I missed the turnoff, because we're going to Biloxi. But--buy--you--you killed that man--and he's got chains on--he couldn't have gotten away!" Kathy suddenly gasped as she stared down at the sprawled, inert body on the road beside her car.
"Well now, ain't you the little know-itall!" he leered. "He was trying to escape, that's what! He's a dangerous nigger, and he's better off dead. I'd have whupped him ass raw and left him for the buzzards if I'd caught him. Seems like to me you must be Yankees. And you jest broke the law, you two. It's a state offense to drive down a road when we've got a chain gang working."
"But I tell you, I didn't see the sign," Kathy protested. "And anyway, it was inhuman to kill that poor man!"
"Jist keep it up, honey. I'm the law in this county, and I find you guilty of trespassin' on prison ground, being sassy to a duly appointed law officer of this here county, and that's enough alone to give you a six-months stretch. Maybe you'll sort of tone down that huffy tongue of yours about my having to shoot that nigger convict. I'm in my rights," and it's not going to take no snotty Yankee bitch like you to tell me my job." He turned to his two deputies who had come up to see hat the trouble was. "Lem, Dick, these two broads damned near helped old Amos escape. I'm taking them back to my place to lock them up till I figger out what to do with them.
Dick Snodgrass, a hairy, squat thirty-five-year-old red-necked farmer who had found it much more profitable to work as a deputy and occasionally get his share of the pussy when the sheriff was feeling generous with his young vagrants and runaways, grinned as his beady eyes saw the shrinking young women in the car. "Hey Sheriff," he chuckled lewdly, "I got me a good idea. We lost one man workin' on this road, here you've got two nice strong heifers who can do their share and make up for old 'mos. How do you like that?"
Sheriff Bayliss guffawed. "Hell, Dick, that's a great idea!" he chortled. "Dress 'em up in cute shorts and a man's T-shirt, chain 'em up and let the convicts git a good hard-on watching their cute asses wriggle when they have to use the shovel. Heh, I think maybe I'll try that." He pulled open the door of the car and snarled, "Now then, you two, git into the back seat. I'm going to drive you to my place and we'll just see who you are and whatcher doin' here."
"You haven't got any right, Sheriff, we were just driving down from Chicago on a vacation, " Kathy indignantly protested. "It isn't our fault if the sign you put up can't be seen by anybody driving along, especially when we've never been here before. We've done nothing criminal, and I demand you take me before a judge."
"One of those jailhouse lawyers, huh?" he sniggered as he yanked Kathy out of the car, slapped her face, then opened the back door and shoved her into it. "I'll learn you how to talk to the law down here, bitch! Now you, Red," to Lorene, "you jist haul your ass to the back seat with that cute friend of yours. Make it fast!" He drew his Colt and menaced the two cowing girls, and Lorene Donald hastily obeyed. Then he got behind the wheel of her car, and headed it back to Poindexter and his house. He lit a cigar and chuckled to himself, highly pleased at the turn of the day's events. Cora would really have some sweet quiff to work on, nice and fresh, Yankee quiff that needed taking down a couple of pegs....
"My gracious, Brother, who are these girls?" Cora Bayliss gasped as the fat, lecherous law officer shoved Kathy and Lorene into the living room of his house, his gun drawn to quell their revolt. On the way to his house, they had both indignantly protested, swearing they would report him to higher authorities, but he just grinned and chuckled and told them, "That's when you get out of here, and maybe you won't be so high and mighty by then."
"I caught 'em coming down the road to the chain gang, Cora," he' explained."! hadda kill me one of the niggers trying to git away, and. these Yankee gals got all excited and said I was just a murderer. They're going to spend a couple of months in the gang startin' tomorrow morning, Sis. Meanwhile, I figger they ought to have a little lesson so they won't be so uppity."
"You oughtn't to have driven down that road, girls," Cora Bayliss primly declared.
"We didn't see the sign," Kathy again protested, "and if this is your brother, he is a murderer, a cruel and heartless man, because he didn't have to shoot that poor man!"
Then she uttered a cry because Bill Bayliss had just come forward and clouted her across her cheek with his heavy palm, slamming her back against the couch. "Didn't I tell you, Cora, they need a lesson? Now you fix me a bite of lunch, then I'll take them both out to the woodshed. Maybe if they spend the night there on bread and water, they'll be eager to do some hard work for a change. Come on, you two."
"What are you going to do to us? You haven't any right to hurt us, you have to take us before a judge if you're going to sentence us!" Lorene gasped, her face scarlet with shame at the way his glittering eyes were laving her body. For the trip, she had put on a red minidress and charcoal-brown pantyhose, and the way he was staring at her trim legs made her shudder with revulsion, because her lesbian aloofness to the male was being savagely challenged.
Again drawing his gun, Sheriff Bill Bayliss prodded Lorene's shoulder and with a cry of fright she sprang to her feet, Kathy emulating her. The two trembling and terrified young women Were herded out of the house and towards the woodshed where Bill Bayliss had so recently amused himself with the Morgan sisters.
Once inside, they shrank back at the sight of the apparatuses he had installed there. "Now, you won't be needing any duds till I give you your outfit to work on the chain gang tomorrow, "so just you start peeling down. You first, Red! as he gestured with the gun towards Lorene.
"Oh no! My God, you haven't got any right to make us do that! We're decent women, and we haven't done anything criminal, you know we haven't! I-won't undress, not before you or afty man!" Lorene Donald almost hysterically exclaimed..
"I see I gotta teach you-how' to behave down here, baby," he chuckled evilly. Holstering the gun again, he seized the unsuspecting Kathy, dragged her wrists behind her back and locked them in a pair of handcuffs which he had taken from his back trousers' pocket. "That'll keep you quiet fer a while till I git done with your girlfriend here.
"Don't you hurt my cousin. Sheriff!" Kathy cried.
He had taken the girls' purses back in the living room, rummaged through them to find their identification. Now he reached out and cupped Kathy's chin with has fat hand, smirking, "You've got a lot of spirit, Kathy baby. Jist the kind I like to break. But it's Red here I really want to whup!"
"No, no, you're not going to touch me!" Lorene Donald screamed as she rushed towards the door of the woodshed. But Sheriff Bayliss caught her by the wris-t, twisted it deftly behind her back and made her stoop over towards the floor with a shriek of agony. "Be good, baby, you ain't ready yet. Now, are you gonna start peeling or aren't you?"
'You can kill me. but I won't! she cried.
"What you need is a taste of the spanking ladder, Red," he grinned lecherously. Seizing her by the elbows, he quick-marched her over to the angling frame and forced her against it. He had already taken a length of heavy cord form his other pocket and, leaning against her so as to force her forward so that she could not escape, his left hand clutching her left wrist, he now looped the rope in his right hand over her wrist and round the heavy left-hand plank, then corded it tightly. Then, chuckling with pleasure, he took another length of rope from the same pocket and made her right wrist fast to the plank-of the other side. Lorene Donald, in mortal terror of being stripped by this gross man, all her lesbian instincts revolting against the thought, tried desperately to kick back, to wrench her wrists free, but she couldn't. "Now jist let's git you peeled down for a nice taste of the switch or the paddle, Red," he gloated. Squatting down, avoiding her frantic kicks, he at last seized her right ankle and made that fast to the bottom of the right-hand plank with another cord. Then he fixed the other ankle, and now Lorene Donald was stretched and spread-eagled to the two planks, the wide space in between allowing her body to lunge forward. Since the two planks angled towards the upright, she could get no strength to stand erect and to maneuver.
Savoringly, his pudgy fingers lifted the red miniskirt, and then he whistled at the sight of her superb bottom in the gauzy charcoal-brown pantyhose. Again he fumbled in his rear pocket to take out a safety pin, and pinned the skirt high on her back. Then, inserting his thick fingers under the waistband of the gauzy veil which hid her naked charms, he yanked it downwards. Lorene arched forward with a mad shriek, looking back over her shoulder to employ mercy: "Oh God, not that, don't take my clothes off, oh please, Sheriff, not naked!" Because of the wide straddle of her legs, he could get them only down to about the base of her behind. Savagely he ripped the pantyhose and then jerked them down as far as he could get them, practically to her calves. Lorene uttered a scream again of utter despair and shame, then bowed her head and began to sob hopelessly. His eyes feasted on the pale-milky-skinned broadly oval-spaced cheeks of her distended ass, and the long sleek thighs whose muscles strained and jerked under the smooth skin.
Kathy Ellison had watched this preparation for the punishment of her beautiful lesbian cousin with a kind of petrified fascination. Now Sheriff Bill Bayliss turned to her, his eyes glistening with lust. "Now I'll git you ready, Kathy honey, only Red is gonna git the worst lickin' fer givin' me all the trouble she's been doin'," he informed her.
Kathy backed away till she was up against the wall of the woodshed, her eyes bulging and glassy with tears of fright and shame: "Oh no don't touch me, for God's sake don't!" she panted.
But the law officer stooped down, caught up the hem of her brown cotton skirt and yanked it upwards, as she cried out in shame.
"Don't fight me, you cute little bitch, it'll be all the worse for you," he growled. "Now you git over to that sawhorse and just you git yourself astraddle it, you hear?"
Taking her by the scruff of the neck, and applying an open handed smack of is right palm to her saucy bottom through the thin skirt, sheriff Bill Bayliss forced the sobbing golden-haired captive over to the sawhorse over which she awkardly clambered, arching up on tiptoe so that the ridge would not press against her tender loins. Suddenly she shrieked, for with both hands he had stooped down, took hold of her skirt and slip, and rolled them high on her back. Another safety pin taken from his rear pocket succeeded in keeping her outer garments well over her condemned behind. Even as she struggled, he put his left hand to her hancuffed wrists and forced her to bend forward over the creul apparatus. Then, going over to the wall, he took down another length of ope which was draped over a heavy nail hammered into the wood, returned and squatted down at the head of the sawhorse. "You sure got purty yellow hair, Kathy baby," he muttered thickly. With his left hand, he tugged out her pageboy curls into a thick sheath, then carefully tied one end of the rope around it to make it fast. The free end of the rope was dragged down to the foot of the sawhorse and circled tightly round it and then knotted. Now, her wrists handcuffed behind her back, Kathy was forced to submit to the straddled torment of the device, for the slightest movement of her head and shoulders would send waves of torment through her tender scalp.
Distended as her asscheeks were, plump rounds with a gradually broadening crease between them, her thin white nylon panties were almost ready to burst. His eyes devoured the jutting globes of her vulnerable behind, and then he reached down and, seizing the waistband between his heavy hands, ripped and tore until the panties were completely tugged away from her palpitating body. Kathy uttered a shriek and then began to sob heart-renderingly for him to spare her this ultimate shame, but to no avail.
"Cripes, but you gotta nice sweet pink ass jist like a baby's, Kathy girl," he said hoarsely as he rubbed his calloused palm over poor Kathy Ellison's squirming, clenching virgin asscheeks while the unfortunate young woman screamed aloud for him to stop. The movements of her hips made her thick dark-golden cunt fleece rub furiously against the hard wooden surface along the top of the sawhorse, and the painful friction was in itself a cruel ordeal.
"I'll tend to you later, Kathy," he promised ashe picked up a barrel stave and moved back towards the spanking ladder, between whose planks Lorene Donald hung in her bonds of wrists and ankles, naked to the waist, her thick dark-red cunt curls in lascivious view as they framed the soft twitching pink lips of her virgin cleft. "Now we'll jist see, Red honey, if I can't wallop some sense into that cute ass of yours. When you've had enough and you're eady to beg my pardon and promise to be a nice little gal and go to work on the chain gang and do your time nice and proper, you can lemme know!" he gloated.
He could already feel his cock straining against the fly of his trousers as he reached slowly forward to press the thin flexible stave against the tops of both Lorene's huddling milky-sheened asscheeks. With a whimpering, choking cry, the young woman lifted her head and closed her eyes, her fingernails scrabbling against the wooden planks which formed this "spanking ladder." Gloatingly he kept the fustigatory instrument thrust firmly against her cringing naked ass until he could see her boby begin to shiver with the frightened supense and shame she was undergoing. Then swiftly, drawing it back, he applied a wickedly stinging whack over the part he had selected. A bright pink bar outlining the stave sprang up at once on Lorene's pale flesh, and a piercing cry of pain attested to the vigor of the spank as she lunged forward, her pear-shaped boobs heaving wildly against the confines of the tight bra and the top of her thin minidress.
"You mark real nice, Lorene sweetie," Sheriff Bill Bayliss panted. "Maybe now you're startin' to be sorry for all the nasty things you said about the law here in Poindexter."
"No! You can kill me, but I'll never change my mind, you horrible, vicious, insane murderer you! Lorene shrilled, His face twisted with malevolence. "I promise you I'm gonna have you crawlin' on your knees before I'm done with you, bitch," he swore. "You're gonna take that all back and beg to be real nice to Bill Bayliss. See if you don't." With this, he drew back the stave and imparted a second and even harsher whack across both asscheeks, about an inch down from the first blow. Lorene groaned aloud, grinding her teeth to hold back a cry for mercy as the savage, scolding pain wrenched through her delicate nervous system. The muscles of her thighs stood out and flexed violently as she tried to clench them, to diminish the all too naked and vulnerable threat of her spacious ass ovals.
Slowly and methodically the grinning law officer spanked the red--haired lesbian. After ten swats, he had covered her entire posterior with bright red marks. Then he began to concentrate on each globe in turn, sometimes backhanding her across the outer edge of her left assglobe and then in almost the same movement returning the stave to bite against the outer curve of the right bottomcheek. After thirty spanks, Lorene was sobbing like a child, her head uptilted, her tearblinded eyes fixed on the ceiling of the woodshed, and her fingernails had broken off against the wooden planks as she fought the agony of this barbarous martyrdom.
"Now then, I'll bet you're feeling a little more respectful towards your betters, gal," he gloated, patting her flaming ass with the stave. "Are you about ready to ask me nice and humble-like to let you off anymore? 'Course if you do, you've got to be vice to me.
Well?"
"N--no, I won't--you can kill me--you dirty bastard--go ahead and kill me!" Lorene panted tearfully.
"You talk real uppity, jist like you never had a man--hey, I'll bet you never did. Let's find out," Bill Bayliss sniggered. Moving closer to the shuddering, spread-eagled captive, transferring the stave to his left hand, he applied his pudgy right forefinger between her straddled thighs and pressed knowingly into her cunt. Lorene stiffened, her eyes bulging with revulsion and loathing, and then a wild shriek was torn from her: 'Nooooo!!! Take your hand away, oh you filthy pig, you bastard, don't do that to me, whip me, whip me to death, but don't do that!"
"Why hell, gal, you're still cherry! I thought you bitches up North fucked when you got to be about ten," he obscenely jested, waggling his finger back and forth inside her slot while Lorene wept bitterly in her humiliates shame "So you don't like my finger there? Well I reckon I was gonna put somepin harder in there for you, but seein' as how you're still so snotty, guess you want your ass licked a little more till you git the notion. I'll jist oblige you, Lorene baby!" Loosening his belt and tugging it out, he stepped back and began to whip the red--haired lesbian across her already inflamed and shudderingly naked ass. Kathy, agonized over the sawhorse, trying to arch her loins away from the persistant prodding of the surface which rubbed against her tender cunt, sobbed and groaned with terror as she heard her cousin's frenzied screams and babbling pleas for mercy. After about twenty such lashes, Lorene Donald could no longer hold out against the torture, and she was hysterically entreating her executioner to stop, promising she wouldn't tell what she has seen today, apologizing for having called him the names she had.
But hat wasn't what Bill Bayliss wanted. Pausing a moment now, his face florid and twisted with rut, he growled, "You're gonna ask me to screw you. Red, That's what. Then I'll figger you've learned your lesson.
"Oh, nooooo!!! Oh no, I won't ever do that, not with a man, oh my God, you can kill me, I don't care, but I won't, I won't!" Lorene Donald frantically screamed.
"We'll see. Now I git it, you're one of those lousy dykes. Well, Cora is just gonna love that, Red honey," he drawled. Lowering the belt to the floor, he leaped it up between her straddled thighs so that the oval tip of the belt stung right into her gaping cunt hold.
Lorene's body seemed to arch away from the planks and upwards, then her head flung back and a wild, prolonged and workless shriek of inhuman suffering was torn from her, as her body vibrated and trembled in aftermath.
Three more savage flicks stung her cunt until suddenly she slumped in her bonds, mercifully swooning. But it was to be only a temporary respite.
Now, tugging down his zipper and liberating his swollen prick, Sheriff Bill Bayliss walked over to the horse on which poor Kathy Ellison lay, sobbing as if her heart would break. Greedily he squeezed and pinched and patted her distended naked asscheeks with both hands, his eyes glittering as they studied her contorted, tearstained face. "How about you, Kathy? You gonna show some sense or do I hafta lace you good the way I jist did your cousin?" he wanted to know.
"Oh, please let us go, S--Sheriff, I'll get you money-I'll do anything--but for God's sake let my cousin and me go back home!" Kathy moaned.
"Not a chance, sister. You got time to do, remember? Now, you gonna be nice to old Bill Bayliss, or do you want that cute pink ass of yours whupped raw?
But Kathy broke down and was unable to speak, so Bill Bayliss interpreted this as her refusal of his base desires It suited him fine; he had no wish to hurry with both of these juicy grownup bitches, because they were going to give him a lot of sport for the next few months, him and Cora alike.
Seizing the barrel stave he had used against poor Lorene's scarlet, swollen bottom, he now began to spank the jouncily rounded pink satiny hemisperes of Kathy Ellison's virgin ass. Her cries were deafening as he laid the stave on with vigor, making it bounce and dance off the resiliant, tightly stretched globes as she lay tethered to the infernal sawhorse. Sometimes the pain was so great that she unwittingly tried to lift her head, whereupon the rope tied to her tumbled, gathered golden hair punished her cruelly. Each ferociously noisy swat drove her cunt against the surface of the sawhorse, and in her grinding, feverishly twisting maneuvers, she chafed the soft pink lips of her virgin cunt till she was nearly frantic with suffering.
But by now Sheriff Bill Bayliss needed solace for his rut, for he was about to burst. Moving towards the head of the sawhorse, he grasped her gathered sheaf of golden hair in both hands and, rubbing his prick against the silky strands, suddenly bellowed with brutish pleasure as he felt himself void his sticky spunk into her hair.
"You can jist stay there and think things over, gals," he muttered, sated for the moment.
It wasn't until evening until Cora Bayliss visited the woodshed. She had put a leather Corselet, gloves and boots, and was carrying a leather riding crop. Her eyes were unnaturally bright and her lips moist and twitching as she unlocked the padlock and then entered the woodshed. Lorene and Kathy uttered simultaneous cries of terror as they twisted their faces round to see the Sheriffs perverse sister. "Well, now, young ladies, Bill has told me how disrespectful you've been. The very idea, calling my brother, who is the best sheriff in Mississippi, such awful names and a murderer too! You're going to have bread and water for supper, and then I'm going to spank you both very hard." She went out of the shed for a moment and returned with two bowls in which crumbled bits of stale bred had been dropped. Going first to Lorene, she ywisted the fingers of her gloved left hand in the captive's coppery hair and held the bowl to Lorene's panting mouth. "Start swallowing down your supper, bitch, or I'll lace that ass of yours till it's raw," she threatened.
Lorene, groaning and sobbing, was forced to obey. Then in her turn Kathy Ellison knew the ultimate degredation of being fed like an animal by the dominatress.
"Now it's time for your bedtime spanking, girls," she purred. Her gloved left hand caressed Kathy's satiny pink lower back, as her eyes feasted on the exaggeratedly distended round cheeks of the golden-haired captive's bare ass. 'Hmm, I see the spanking you already had is sort of fading. I'll just touch it up a little, Kathy." With this, she patted Kathy Ellison's naked posterior with the riding crop, then drew it back and applied a stinging, swishing cut around the plumpest of curves. A piercing cry rose at once as Kathy jerked in her bonds, her bottom wriggling frantically from side to side. The angry red, darkening streak across the summits of her shuddering asscheeks demonstrated the vigor of that cruel lash. Slowly, with the same methodical and gloating pleasure as her brother, Cora Bayliss administered twenty such whistling lashes all over Kathy's writhing bare bottom, till the unfortunate golden-haired victim hysterically shrieked that she would do anything in the world if only Cora would stop the thrashing.
"I'm going to make you keep your word, Kathy, Now then, let's see how nice you can be to me," she purred. Placing herself in front of the horse, unfastening the strap between her thighs, she exposed her hairy cunt. Then, cupping Kathy's trembling chin with her gloved left hand, and applying a light flick of the crop over the young woman's bare back, she commanded, "You jist git busy sucking and licking and kissing me there, or else!"
Kathy gagged and choked, but a few stinging lashes over the tops of her wriggling hips broke down her courage and for the first time in her life she was made to gamahuch another female. When she had satisfied the dominatress, Cora Bayliss moved over now to the spanking ladder and began to squeeze and pinch Lorene's still visibly inflamed bottomcheeks. "Now it's time for you, honey," she muttered greedily.
"Oh please, M--Miss Bawyliss, please, please don't whip me anymore, I'll do what you want, but please don't whip me!" Lorene whimpered. She had already guessed that Cora Bayliss was a. dedicated lesbian butch, and she was eagerly ready to surrender herself if only to escape more torture.
"You mean it girl?"
"Oh yes, give me a chance to show you, I'll do anything you want but only don't whip me anymore!" Lorene sobbed.
Cora Bayliss grinned. She unfastened the weeping redhead and then made her stand facing her, reaching her arms above her head. Once again she tied Lorene back into position, but this time facing her. Then, removing her leather corselet entirely, she pressed herself against the young woman's tethered body and, her mouth crushing Lorene's, hissed, "Work me good now, make me come!"
And Lorene Donald shamelessly obeyed.
CHAPTER FIVE
There were whistles and catcalls from the chain gang prisoners as Sheriff Bill Bayliss got out of the Dodge Polara which he had commandeered from Lorene and Kathy and pushed the two crimson faced, crestfallen young women out of the car. This morning, after giving them breakfast of cornpone and coffee, he had untied them from the horse and the spanking ladder, taken them into the house and let them go to the bathroom, which they badly needed. Cora Bayliss, armed with a riding crop and his gun just in case of trouble, had supervised while he made them put on their "working outfit," as he so grossly termed it. He had gone into town for a few minutes last night, got old man Cloverly to open his department store, and purchased several pairs of the briefest white cotton play shorts he could find, and it was these that he made the two young women tug up over their bottoms. Inspecting them, he grinned of approval: "Fits like another skin, don't it, Cora honey? Now, jist you two broads pull this convict shirt over your tits, and put on those heavy shoes, and you'll be ready for a good day's work on the rock pile!"
The shirts were long-sleeved, coarse broadcloth, gray and covered with black arrows to designate their convict status. Then he procured two pairs of legirons, metal cuffs which locked round the young women's ankles and had a chain length of about a foot between. He fixed a similar set onto their wrists, with about eighteen inches of chain length between, to give their hands more play in gripping the pick or hoe or axe or spade.
"Hey now, Bill, you got two of the cutest durned prisoners I ever done seed, " Lem Jones cracked as he scratched his head and spat tobacco, his watery blue eyes squinting lecherously at the way Lorene's pear-shaped tits thrust out against the convict shirt and Kathy's lovlier, rounder and more opulent boobs were shaped out by hers.
"You boys put them to work. Not too hard at first, but enough to work up a sweat. They'll eat with the other prisoners. I'll pick them up this evening," Bill Bayliss chuckled.
It was a day of hell on earth for Kathy Ellison and Lorene Donald. Their cheeks flaming from the salacious comments of their fellow prisoners and the two deputies who, armed with shotguns and rubber truncheons, moved constantly around the convicts to keep them working in the broiling sun, the two young women were drenched in sweat and exhausted after only an hour or two of their cruel manual labor.
Then Lem Jones wandered over to them shortly after the luncheon break to taunt them, "When Bill comes back, I'm supposed to tell him how good you bitches worked, see? If you don't put more into it, you're gonna git a good hard spankin' tonight. And he says to tell you that if you still ain't ready to do your share by tomorrow, he might jist turn you over to some of those big buck niggers on the rockpile over there and let them have some fun. Cripes, they ain't had a broad in years."
By four o'clock, when their commandeered car hove into view and the fat sheriff stepped out of it, both Kathy and Lorene were in a virtual state of exhaustion. They could no longer lift the pick to break the rocks before them, and their bodies were bathed in sweat. They sank down on their knees, weeping bitterly as their chains clanked.
Bayliss made a sign and the two deputies dragged the half-fainting young women over to the car and shoved then rudely into the back seat, and then the sheriff drove them back to his house.
He let them go to the bathroom and take a shower, and then they were ordered to remove the convicts shirts and the work shoes. In their tight play shorts, their naked tits heaved tumultuously, they were ordered to put their wrists behind their backs and Cora Bayliss bound them with cord. Then she marched them out to the woodshed and draped Kathy over the spanking barrel, tying Kathy's wrists to the iron brackets set into the wood so the the unforunate young woman was placed ideally with her bottom high in the air. This time it was Lorene's turn to ride the horse, and in spite of her tearful pleas and her reminders to the grinning dominatress that she had done what Cora had wanted last night, she was forced to stride it, her wrists and ankles tied to the base of the legs, and then blindfolded.
Next Cora Bayliss took a pail of water and doused it over the two captives jutting bottoms. "That's to cool you off," she joked. "When Bill gets through with supper, he says he's going to whup these shorts off till you're ready to be nice and obligin' to him."
"Oh God, K--Kathy, what are we going to do?" Lorene hysterically sobbed when the padlock was clicked and they found themselves alone in their misery and their terror, waiting for the brutal law officer to have his way with them.
"Oh God, I don't--I don't know, Lorene," Kathy moaned. "He doesn't want money, and we might die if we have to stay here six months oh, my muscles ache, I'm so sore and stiff all over, this is just horrible!"
"I thought--I thought maybe last night--that awful women--when I did what she wanted--she'd maybe help us escape," Lorene tearfully confided, "But she's just as heartless as he is."
"Maybe," Kathy gasped, her face crimsoning at the thought, "If I--if I was nice to him, maybe he'd let us go. I know he wants to have us both, and I know-I know now how you feel about men, Lorene."
I-I know you do. I'm so ashamed of myself, but I' such a coward. I couldn't stand anymore whipping, so I let her do what she wanted. Oh darling, oh Kathy baby, if only we hadn't come this way! You know what? I--I was in love with you, and I hope--I hope that maybe you and I could be sweethearts," Lorene sobingly confided.
Thus even in their agony, a new bond of understanding was forged between the two lovely cousins. But at this moment, they stiffened with terror and gasped as the padlock was removed and the door flung open and Sheriff Bill Bayliss strode in, picking his teeth with a toothpick and belching with pleasure after a hearty supper.
"Well, you two girls nice and comfy?" he grinned lewdly. "Maybe now you're gittin' the idea you got to do what I want, or you could rot here on this chain gang. Right now I got you down in the books for six months hard labor for what ou did. You still say I murdered that nigger?"
"N--no, Sheriff," Kathy heard herself quavering in a tiny voice.
"Well now, Kathy, now you're really gittin smart. You know, if you two bitches was to be nice to me, I might just turn my head and let you escape. 'Course I ain't saying I would riht now, mind you, it depends just how nice you're gonna be. So see what you can think up while I'm figgerin' what sort of spanking to give your cute asses tonight," he chuckled.
Moving over to the barrel, he bent over the shrinking golden--haired captive and began to squeeze her round firm assceeks. The soaked shorts had adhered to the luscious contours of her voluptuous ass all the more suggestively, pressing tightly against the grove which led to her virgin asshole. Playfully he goosed her, and Kathy wailed and screamed in slime. His face livid with rut, he bent it down close to her and muttered, "Do you want to git whupped till your pants are torm off and dried nice and hot, Kathy, or do you figger you can be nice to me now?"
"Oh please, please don't hurt me-I'm so sore already from that awful work today-please let me off, Sheriff-if-if I do what you want-will you please let Lorene and me go back North?" she gasped, her eyes closed and her body shivering with loathing.
"Might let you go. I ain't heard Red over there say nuttin' yet, though. Let's see what a start you can make baby. Now then, I'm jist going to give your cute little ass a little touching up, that's all. Jist to make it legal and binding, you might say. Then you can have your chance to show old Bill hw grateful you're gonna be 'cause he lets you off so light," he smacked his lips with relish. Taking the stave, he now applied twenty noisy smacks over poor Kathy's struggling, wriggling bottomcheeks. The soaked shorts seemed to make the stave sting all the more harshly, and she was sobbing and screamed for mercy by the time he tossed the stave away. "You ready now, you gonna be good to old Bill?" he growled as he moved round to the side of the barrel and bent down, twisted her hair between the fingers of his left hand and yanked up the contorted tearstained face.
"Y-Yes, I'll do anything," she panted tearfully.
With his right hand, he opened his fly and emerged his prick. Then, squatting down, he offered himself to her. "Lick and suck it real nice then," he growled.
Lorene, seeing all this from the horse, closed her eyes and groaned aloud in loathing. But Kathy, whose bottom was a flaming torment, did not hesitate. Though wretching and shuttering, she forced herself to take his prick between her trembling lips and to suck and lick it til he suddenly arose, ready to burst with rut.
Going behind her, he ripped off the soaked shorts, gripped her hips, and ordered, "Jist raise yourself up a little, so's I can git in that tight little cunt of yours, baby!"
Kathy did all she could do to cooperate, till his hands reached under to press against her belly and to lift her till his cockhead could make contact with the gaping lips of her twitching virgin cunt. A moment later, she uttered a shriek as her hymen rent asunder, and then he began to fuck her brutally, grunting and gasping in his lust.
When he withdrew, his organ bloodied from its triumph in her virgin sheath, he went to the horse, and, yanking Lorene up by the hair, gestured to his cock: "Now if you don't want a good dose of spanking, bitch, just clean me off and get me ready for twat," he ordered.
But Lorene twisted her face away and gagged, nearly vomiting. Enraged, Bill Bayliss seized the stave and began to spank her jouncy oval asscheeks until she could no longer endure the suffering. Each time she writhed against the horse, her tender cunt was chafed by its friction against the wooden top. At last she blubberingly agreed to do whatever he wanted, and again he offered her his bloodied cock. Only when she had sucked it clean, did he finally show mere of a kind. But that mercy was to rip off her shorts and then, carefully angling himself, engaged the tip of his cock between her twitching cuntlips and thrust home until at last he had made a woman of this beautiful red--haired lesbian....
Nevertheless, in spite of their surrender, Kathy and Lorene were taken out to the chain gang the next morning. But at noon, Bill Bayliss took them directly back to the house in their car, and led them directly into the living room where Cora Bayliss waited, beaming with anticipation. She wore her leather corselet and boots and gloves, and she held a leather hairbrush in her right hand.
"I'm gonna take pity on you Northern bitches," Bill Bayliss drawled. "Only you gotta git a last lesson from us both. That'll learn you not to go traipsing down here lording it over us folks, see? Lorene, honey, you're gonna get your licks from my sister and then love her up good. Kathy, I'm gonna give you your spankin' lesson and then you're gonna show me how nice you can be to me in bed, see? After that, you can both git to your car and drive back north, and don't ever lemme catch you down here again. Now one last thing: you gonna open your yaps about old Amos?"
"Oh no, Sheriff," Kathy frantically exclaimed, "I don't even know what you mean, I didn't see anything!"
He grinned cruelly, 'That's the way to talk. What about you, Red"
"I didn't see anything either, Sheriff, honest I didn't!" the red--haired lesbian gasped, turning very pale as she saw the cruel glint in his squinting eyes.
"Well, I guess this little work out down here didn't do you no harm at all. You both learn something. All right now, Lorene, take off your duds and go git over my sister's lap, she's gonna whale you good."
He make poor Kathy stand beside him, while his left hand wandered over her flinching ass in the tight thin play shorts, as she watched Lorene blushingly remove the convict shirt and then wriggle out of the tight play shorts, kick off her work shoes, and then go humbly over to the couch and drape herself across Cora Bayliss' lap. Tucking her in with her left arm, the perverse dominatress rubbed the back of the wooden hairbrush all over the milky ass ovals, and then began to spank Lorene energetically. Soon the naked redhead was kicking her legs wildly in the air and pounding the couch and sobbing that she would do anything in the world if only the spanking would stop. When it was finally over, she was ordered to get down on her knees, kiss the hairbrush and the hand that wielded it, and then herself unbutton the gusset strap of Cora Bayliss' corselet and gamahuch the women right before her cousin's eyes.
"It's your turn now, Kathy," Sheriff Bayliss grinned. He put his left hand up to Kathy's boob and squeezed it intimately. "Let's go to bed."
A few moments later, naked as the day she was born, Kathy had to submit herself to the lecherous law officer. First ordered to get across his knees as he sprawled in his warm chair, she endured a lengthy hand spanking, which he interrupted from time to time to squeeze and pinch her flaming bottom as well as to tweak and prod her panting tits. Then she had to kneel down and suck his cock and finally get on the bed on all fours and offer herself to his ignoble rut.
Kathy and Lorene had driven right back home and spent the next week of their vacation in their apartments recuperating from their incredible adventure. But on the Saturday night of that second week, Kathy telephoned Joe McDougal to come see her. She met him wearing only a negligee and highheeled pumps, and when she saw his eyes light up at the sight of her golden-haired beauty, she murmured, "I felt so awful all this time having that quarrel with you, darling. I want to make it up to you. First, though, I think I need a good sound spanking for being such a bitch. And then if you want, you can love me."
Joe McDougal stared at her as if the gate to paradise had just opened for him. Then with a shout of joy, he seized her, carried her over to the couch, flung her down across her lap after fucking up her negligee, and began to paddle he pink-sheened round bottom cheeks until she squealed and sobbed and promised to be very good from now on. And that she was, for a few minutes later he mounted over her on the couch and her arms and legs were wrapped tightly round him and she was giving him back kiss for kiss, arching up to meet the thrust of his eager prick. They would be married very soon, because his Scotch instinct deserted him once he had tasted Kathy's delectable charms. He didn't understand why she had suddenly become so passionate and loving all of a sudden, but he wasn't going to ask any questions.
Lorene Donald was busy Saturday night too. And she also had made a concession to the emotions roused form her incredible experience of the week before down South, She had called her lover Vanessa Claridge over to her apartment, and know that the two young women were naked and had completed their first passionate act of reunion by rubbing pussys together, Lorene rolled over onto her side, opened the drawer of the night table and pulled a dildo with webbed straps out. "Put it in, Vanessa lover," she breathed. "Put it on and put it into me. I'm just burning to have you fuck me!"
Vanessa was startled, but she didn't ask questions. She had always been the passive one until now. Something had changed her paramour, but she was too excited at the possibility of finding out what it would be like to use her dominatress and initiatress as a man might, to ask any further questions.
