When Cindy Weinstein left the city with her boyfriend for a two-week backpacking trip in the rugged Grand Teton Mountain National Park, she felt womanishly squeamish about the wild animals lurking up there in the dark. And on the third night of sleeping under the stars she had due cause . . .
From that point on, The Abduction of Cindy, Vol. I, Edward Mitchell's thrilling story runs pell-mell through the torturous adventures of a girl lost in the wilds, separated from her partner, and found bruised and unconscious on a foothill meadow by a friendly old cowboy who turns her over to his landlords for care.
That's where the real adventure begins . . . when our heroine realizes her foes are not the forest animals but her generous hosts who have turned their mountain retreat into a torture chamber and feast parasitically on the virgin flesh of innocents for the unholy joy of quelling the boredom of their empty, meaningless existence. The Comstocks, the crazed, egomaniac profligates are professionals at their sexually cannibalistic sport, but Cynthia Anne Weinstein is a stubborn, proud young girl who refuses to crack under her lesbian tormentor's tongue and fingers in this, the first part of The Abduction of Cindy, Vol. I. Be sure to check your news stand next month for the exciting conclusion.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
On this her third day of camping, Cindy would gladly have traded her last mouthful of dried apricots for a face-to-face debate with Euwell Gibbons over the spiritual rewards of returning to nature. Disgruntled and sweaty, her mind flashed on cereal ads featuring scrub-faced girls sitting next to impossibly heavy backpacks, hair pulled back in neat pigtails, armpits dry. Huh! She felt like a withered, rumpled, defeated frump. God, for a hot bath and a shampoo . . .
The nineteen-year-old trail-weary hiker propped her firm buttocks down on a rotting log, her bulging orange backpack leaning lazily beside her amidst a patch of wild strawberries. The sweat-popping June sun filtered sunshine over the splash of Indian paintbrushes, Butter Cups and other mountain flowers too delicate for this rugged man's country. The thin cotton of her T-shirt clawed at the clammy mounds of milky flesh beneath it, and her long tanned thighs the color of ripe wheat were crosshatched with red welts from scraping through underbrush and black and blue from bumping into rocks. A big gash encrusted with dried blood was a sorry reminder of her city upbringing; yesterday she'd skated down the slippery shale river bank, scraping her shins brutally.
Trickles of perspiration stood out like studded pearls on her tanned forehead and as the brunette wiped them away with her arm, a disparaging sigh broke from her throat. She glowered down at her polish-chipped nails. Another broken nail, darn it! Her smooth red lips drew into a pouty line that deepened her dimples and puckered her chin into a wrinkled button. That did it! Cindy Weinstein was ready to head back to Chicago and lose herself in the concrete jungle.
When Jed suggested this camping trip she envisioned lying naked in green meadows, watching deer nibble at apple blossoms, skinny dipping and passing the days in lazy bliss. Instead they were playing Davy Crockett, forging trails and competing in an endurance test with themselves.
"Look at the sky, Cindy! Ahhh . . . gorgeous!" Jed beamed like some witch doctor after a rain dance, staring up at gathering black clouds. "God, I love the mountains . . . "
"I do, too . . . on postcards . . . " muttered Cindy, hoping he wouldn't hear. Apparently he did, because his six-foot frame unfolded as he rose up from the ground and ambled over to her. His girl friend's pixie face was scrunched up in a frown and childishly she dug doggishly at the soft humus earth, chopping away toad stools with the vibran soles of her sturdy hiking boots.
Hands on his hips in an exaggerated masculine pose, Jed glanced down at his girl friend's lustrous curly hair that shot blue highlights back at the sun. He straightened his shoulders, towering above her. Poor judgment, was it, expecting this city girl, a pampered Jewish girl from Skokie, Illinois to appreciate the physical challenges that made men like himself sweat blood, tear ligaments and crunch bones for the sheer pleasure of knowing he had the guts to do it. Now that he thought about it, Cindy had never approved of his ambition to play pro football after he graduated from college, either. Well . . . he thought, working his square jaws on a handful of sunflower seeds.. . she'd have to learn.
"Like some sunflowers seeds or granola before we hit the trail?"
"Hit the trail . . . but . . . " Cindy's brown eyes paled as she lifted her head to follow his gaze that settled like noonday sun atop a craggy mountain. "No . . . you can't mean . . . ! "
"Come on," he cajoled. "You might hate me for it now, babe, but when we get back to Chicago you'll be ready to take on Arnold Schwarzenegger."
"Sure," she sniveled, reaching back to rub her own aching shoulders. "Are you gonna walk back to Chicago, too? No, maybe we should roller skate . . . or you could ride me piggy back!" she snapped caustically, suddenly hating the way the sun was baking dirty sweat on her forehead. What good would climbing a mountain just to sleep on it prove anyway? Why couldn't they have gone to London or some civilized place where somebody could carry their luggage instead of them toting it around on their backs like a bunch of plains Indians looking for better hunting grounds.
Jed turned his back to her, his nostrils flaring with contempt for the weaker sex called woman. "Please quit complaining, Cindy," he pleaded, lightening the tension between them with a smile. ". . . Or I'll hang you up by the heels from that tree next to the food sack and let the bears get you."
"B-Bears . . . you mean there's bears up here?"
"Yes! And they eat up brown-eyed girls from Skokie!"
"Don't humor me, Jed! I'm not super woman, you know . . . "
He stared up at the mountain, its white snow cap kissing the blue sky. "Too bad you aren't . . . then you could carry both of us." His blue eyes squinted and blinked against the sun until he shaded his eyes with his hand, staring long and hard at the base of the mountain. "Come on . . . I'll help you get your pack on."
Judging from the sun's angle it was about five o'clock that afternoon as Jed gave in to exhaustion and slipped his backpack off his shoulders, the Sierra Club metal cup banging against a tree stump as he hit the ground in a bed of pine needles on one of the few flat stretches of ground before the rugged granite flanks of the Teton Mountains began jutting out like steely claws. Jed wiped the sweat from his brow and winced as he used both hands to support his left leg under the knee and stretch out his leg. The crunch of his kneecap sluiced the still mountain air and alternately wincing and rubbing, he worked at his football-damaged knee while the sun filtered angularly through the pines, the mountain winds whipping through the trees in a sussurated hush. The sound of snapping twigs jarred him. He raised his head in time to see Cindy trudging up the footpath, her tawny cheeks crimsoned from the effort, her lush breasts rising and falling in panting breaths.
Jed grinned up at her and nodded his head approvingly. Courageous girl, his Cindy. There weren't too many girls on campus who could keep up with his pace, on the trail or in between the sheets.
His hand rubbed over his swollen kneecap while his eyes rubbed over Cindy's lush five-foot-six-inches of tanned, healthy flesh. The weight of her backpack dragging on her shoulders tightened the perspiration dampened cotton of her white Peter Frampton T-shirt until the diamond chips of her nipples poked through the clinging fabric like two symmetrical eyes winking up at the blue Wyoming skies. Her gray leather hiking shorts rode high on her slender thighs tightened now from three days of hiking and climbing despite blisters and thirst. Some trooper, that Cindy, he thought, smiling to himself as the dying sun caressed the blue highlights of her impossibly black curls worn short and natural.
Back on campus he'd had to share her with her studies, but now he had her all to himself . . . he and the mountains.
"That'a girl. I knew you'd make it." She came closer, huffing, blowing a naughty curl out of her eyes.
"Aaaahhhh Gawd! I could drink a river dry. . . . " Shedding her backpack she collapsed on the ground beside Jed.
"Hey, don't get too comfortable.. . we have to build a fire."
"A . . . a fire?" she panted. "What for?"
"To keep the animals away. It'll be colder up here than it was down in the meadows." Jed had rolled up his pants leg and was hobbling over to his backpack on one foot where he rummaged around in the tightly rolled contents for an Ace bandage. Cindy winced, watching him wind the elastic bandage around the swollen nub that had once been a knee.
"Oh, Jed . . . that looks terrible! You shouldn't be walking on it for Godsakes! You won't be able to play . . . "
His don't-play-Jewish-mother-with-me look cut her off short and she looked the other way, mouth shut. Then he was dancing about on one leg gathering stones and arranging them in a circle. "Find some twigs . . . it'll be dark soon."
Begrudgingly she pulled her aching bones up from the ground and noticing that her waist line had tightened up, her mood lightened. "Didn't think I could keep up with you, did you boy?" she teased, coming up behind her lanky boyfriend and wrapping her arms around his back to clasp around his broad chest, teasing at the puckered nipples on his hair-fuzzed chest. "Thought city girls could only make it in the back seat, huh?"
Jed spun around, blue eyes playful. "Garr-rraagghhhh!" he growled and dug his fingers under her armpits, tickling her until she clamped her upper arms protectively over her rib cage. Girlish giggles chimed in the mountain air and a scolding blue jay took a low sweep over their heads while a squirrel sat mutely on a tree limb watching these two-legged animals.
"Ohhhhh . . . haaa, Jed s-stop!" His fingers moved to the center of her chest to play with the puffy nipples of her milky breasts.
"Oh, oh! There's a bear!"
Cindy went pale, her giggles dying in her throat.
"Ha ha . . . gotcha!" he snickered, amused at her false fears. "I'm gonna bite your nippies off with my fangs . . . rrarggghhh!"
By sunset the air was crisp as a bite into a cold green apple and a steady breeze whined through the pines, serving as a windbreak. . . silent, save for the eerie howl of the night's breath. Somewhere out there an owl whoo-oo'd. The campers sat close enough to the fire to feel it burn their tanned cheeks.
"Jed . . . ? " she started, a Sierra Club cup hot with tea clasped in her hands,". . . doesn't it scare you to know there are . . . wild animals out there?" Her rounded shoulders shuddered involuntarily and her down vest rustled restlessly as she hunched her shoulders, hunkering against Jed who sat staring mesmerically into the fire.
"Not really . . . better animals than humans. I'd rather have a bear mad at me than Coach Dickerson."
"Oh come on!"
"No, really . . . " Jed gritted his teeth, chips of bark flying as he hacked with his ax at a dried pine bough and tossed it into the biting orange flames that spit and crackled from the sticky pine resin that made the night air smell suspiciously of air freshener. Now and then the crack of twigs in the blackened shadows of the trees beyond would make both of their heads spin around to see nothing, and then Jed would look at her sheepishly. To be safe, the flashlight sat within reach . . . not that it could stop a mountain lion or an angry bear.
Animals of the four-legged variety wasn't Cindy's only fear. Her spine felt as though an army of ants was parading up and down that vertebraed path and she eyed her boyfriend, hoping his knee was paining him enough to keep his mind on it and off his other biological organs. (Organs . . . that's how her mother had labeled the fleshy machinery between a man's legs.)
Being close with a man when your fingernails were caked with dirt and your hair stuck full of pine needles wasn't Cindy's definition of romance. Making out-that was her prescribed limit, anything beyond that was self-deprecating. Her first semester of school her mamma had told her what to expect from a man in the sex department, and her soured description of what should be physical bliss sounded more like Medieval torture.
"Sex is a cross we women have to bear. Nothing is fair or equal about it. On your wedding night your husband will take your virginity. Your hymen will be brutally ripped, the pain will be excruciating.. . and then you will hemorrhage. Women have bled to death on their marriage beds. Once-you remember?-I broke my leg and the bone popped out of my skin?"
Cindy nodded, remembering the afternoon when she was five years old, she'd had nightmares for weeks after seeing the blood, the white bone, and hearing the sounds of her mother's screams.
: "You remember how I finally passed out from the agony, and when they tried to move me I came to again, and how they had to give me morphine to ease the pain?"
Wide-eyed and wondering, Cindy said quietly, "Go on."
"Well the pain that afternoon was nothing compared to the agony I suffered when your father took my virginity . . . even though he tried to be gentle."
"But I thought making love was supposed to feel good!" Cindy objected.
"Making love, huh! Making war is more like it, for the woman is always defeated, degraded and subjected to indignities."
Cindy's mother sat forward in her chair. "Can you imagine what it's like having some sweaty, hairy male beast crawl like a spider over your naked body?"
Now, two years later Cindy still felt spiders crawling over her body, and as Jed stripped off his down vest and folded it up for a pillow, the orange flames made shadows dance over his strong jawline, giving him a hollow cheeked vampire-like profile. The reflection caught his glimmering eyes just right, giving them a gimlet cast and then and there Cindy would gladly have stared a bear in the eye than crawl in between the zipped up down that might as well have been a marital bed. The two preceding nights they had shared campsites with strangers on the trail, but tonight it was Cindy and Jed and the mountains.
CHAPTER TWO
Jed pulled Cindy down deeper into the sleeping bag, his strong arm wrapping around her back, easing the knot of muscles where the backpack had dragged its twenty pounds. She lay full length pressed against his virile athletic body, staring up into the starlit skies where the Northern Lights strung across the hard dark sky. Tucked against his body the smells and sounds of night faded dimly from her consciousness, limiting her world to the warmth of flesh and the clean smell of pine.
He spoke first. "Happy? Glad you came along?"
"Uh, huh. You?"
In reply, he kissed her and found her mouth partially open. The herbal taste of camomile tickled her lips as his tongue swam into her mouth in a savage kiss and excitement, like spiders, began creeping up Cindy's spine. Now Jed's large hands cautiously touched her breasts and even through her T-shirt she felt the electricity between them.
The spell was momentarily broken as he reached over and tossed a handful of dried pine needles and dried twigs into the fire and a second later, he began kissing her again. Their two tongues sparred wetly, and she felt his hands becoming more sure of themselves when she did not protest. Lying as they were, face to face, Cindy was also becoming very aware of the hard bulge beneath his trousers, which confessed his desire. Something came alive in the pit of her stomach and she wanted to shed inhibitions and reach down there and caress him; she was steeling herself to do it when his hands moved beneath her T-shirt and his knee moved between her thighs separating them.
This time she made no effort to halt his fumbling efforts, trusting him and herself. His movements, concealed by the darkness, were successful. A delicious moment later, his bare hand was on her naked breast, his fingers played over the puffy nipple and he lovingly squeezed the firm, full mound of flesh. The magic of the mountains or the moon overhead . . . something conspired against her better senses and everything about this strong bodied football player appealed to her femininity. His tongue continued its warm snaking into her mouth and his movements grew frantic. His hips buffeted against her pelvis and Cindy found herself panting-wanting him to stop, yet deep inside wanting him to go on forever. Oh, to have him kiss and bite her breasts until her nipples pucked up hard and tingling. Suddenly, the breath went right out of her body. Mamma . . . you were so wrong!
With one smooth motion, Jed's hand slid up her tanned thigh, dug itself under the thin elastic band of her panties and touched the hot moist lips of her fevered vagina. OH, God! She had been dying for him to do this . . . and now she didn't want him to. Instinctively, she dropped her arm and tried to pull his hand away. She was helpless, so weak. Cindy was almost beside herself as he started to massage the redly swelling lips down there between her legs, entangling his fingers in the tendrils of pussy hair lining the pink treasure of her virginity. Once his thumb and forefinger tweaked the electrically tingling clitoris and a shower of ecstasy sparked through her loins. Now he used his other arm to force her hand down toward the awesome bulge in his jockey shorts. Reason like migratory birds, were on the wing. This could only lead to pain and the horror of her mother's mangled leg with white splintered spikes of bone protruding through the torn bleeding flesh flashed before her eyes.
"No . . . No!" she cried aloud and struggled upright.
Cindy looked down to see him glaring at her, wild-eyed and trembling; she could see that he was fighting the temptation to grab her, slap her down on the sleeping bag and do what his aching balls dictated. Finally he seemed to gain control of himself and nodded that it was safe to come back into his arms. Cindy did, trembling like a person afflicted with epilepsy, and kissed him gently on the lips. The bulge in his trousers squirmed like a snake looking for a hole, and she could feel its heartbeat thumping against her bare thigh. Cindy pulled back.
"I.. . I'd like a sip of water." He reached it for her and after the cap was screwed back on, she hesitantly lay back beside him, thinking as she pulled the sleeping bag up around her that the mountains were no place for a woman alone. Truly appreciative of Jed's fearless nature, she snuggled up to him in open defiance of her mother's warning.
Jed pulled her body toward him and they kissed while the pine boughs overhead swept green fingers inches above their heads as if in homage to their affection. Cindy wasn't trying to tease him tonight; the forested playground there between her legs was crying for attention. What to do about it was Jed's job. All she could do to aid the burning tingling was to grind her pelvis against the stomach jabbing bulge tenting his shorts. Instinct told her that when these two junctions finally joined, the fire would blaze up in leaping tongues, explode and then slowly die like a beautiful sunset.
Snuggling up in the rustling sleeping bag, she felt Jed's strong hands sweep up and cup her thin panty-covered buttocks like two footballs in his palms. A second later, his thumbs hooked over the elastic waistband and with one delicious motion, her panties were pulled down over her hips. Jed fumbled with his jockey shorts and yanked them down, kicking them off his legs, despite the needling pain in his knee. His hot erection pressed against her naked goose-bumped belly, throbbing hungrily with each beat of his thumping heart, and he flipped over on top of her, the fevered cock rubbery against her silky inner thighs.
"Jed," she moaned. "Please . . . no. We can't." That was what her lips said but her body was screaming a different message, and without conscious volition, she flexed and un-flexed her thigh muscles against his throbbing penis knowing by his moan of pleasure that she was instinctively pleasing him.
Jed sawed his rubbery cock between her thighs; she felt the hardness of it snaking back and forth inside its sheath of hot thin skin. A marvelous invention, that thing. How could it cause pain?
His finger was seeking out the dewed, velvety entrance to her womb and after a second of foraging, he found it. Turning his hand to cup the whole of her hair curled femininity in his hand, he forced her thighs apart in one liquid movement. She hated to lose that wonderful contact between her thighs and his penis, but she allowed him to spread her anyway. His fingers moved like a harp player across her vaginal lips, making them pout sensuously. God, she wanted to cry up to the stars from the sheer delight of it! Soul consuming, that's what it was. Her neck arched and she moved her face from side to side, her lips contorted and panting out like a broken record, "No . . . no . . . no," and obviously from her buttocks squirming actions, meaning, "yes . . . yes . . . yes."
Jed was grinding his teeth and grunting softly, the orange firelight flickering softly over his square jawed profile, as he slithered his penis up and down the silken length of her thighs. She felt some moisture there and she wondered if he had "cum." But he was still hard and still moving . . . so obviously, he hadn't reached his climax. A moisture-a hot, slippery moisture-wet her vaginal split. Cindy was frightened and jubilant at once.
"Cindy . . . please! I want you . . . it's the perfect place to do it the first time. Let me." He continued to rub her tingling thighs with his prick seeping dribbles of hot pre-cum.
I can't stop you . . . I won't stop you if you really try. His meaty cudgel had now slipped up to the juncture of her slender thighs and its rubbery head pressed and quivered against her hungrily opening cuntal lips. She cried silently for him to do it-she could stand the pain, but nothing escaped her pouty lips except hoarse, shallow breaths. For the first time in her life she felt that something good was about to happen to her down there between her legs. Her heart rejoiced. No fear this time to spoil her anticipation. No sudden shriveling of her senses. If anything, her senses stayed plump and ripe. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. She wanted to beg his forgiveness for being a pest, a complaining old nag on this hiking trip. Oh, he was right. Camping was glorious . . . lying there next to the crackling fire in the arms of the boy she adored, the mountains keeping silent watch over them, the hard, dark sky shrouding their nakedness. Euwell Gibbons knew what he was talking about.
Panting she lay on her back, legs slightly spread, looking up unseeing at the starry sky and watching as Jed reared up and tore off his T-shirt. He knelt between her thighs, the heat of his bare hips against her abdomen and thighs.
Mama . . . I'm gonna do it.. .
The decision was made. "Be gentle," she moaned as she felt the huge blunt head of his prick pressing at the lips of her unprotected vagina. She lay there, the heat of the moment on her-wanting it beyond all other things, and ecstatically now that her mother's imposing fright had finally left her. Maybe it took a trip to the mountains to achieve that, and if so, the blisters and aching back were well worth it!
Jed's tongue jabbed between her lips, his weight descending upon her lower belly, and the first gentle probe of his cock slid lengthwise across her swollen vaginal lips.
Cindy gave in to the sensation, reason evaporating from her body like morning dew, replaced by the sunshine of pure feeling. Jed lifted his buttocks back a bit in preparation for this first entry. The rubbery head, lubricated by the seeping eye of the slit, touched her vaginal lips, pushed forward and cleaved the soft yielding pubic hair, and paused there beating, beating, beating. Gently, he withdrew the head, his breath coming in shallow pants, his cheek burning against hers as he repeated the ritual and this time pressed just a trifle deeper. Oh God, she thought; it is so beautiful, nothing could hurt her now. She felt her cuntal lubricant oozing around the head of his probing cock. Now she wanted it deeper. Instinctively, she had reached down under the warm down bag to caress his balls when-with a terrifying suddenness-the breathless moment was shattered by the tromp of animal footsteps lumbering through the woods, snapping boughs under its paws and charging nearer.
The sound of it caused Cindy's nerves to scream and react as though a stick of dynamite had exploded beneath her. Cindy put her hands against Jed's chest and pushed him away. Frantically, she tugged at the sleeping bag to pull it over her head. The beautiful moment had fled and the way her nerves were screaming it was probably that it would not return for a long, long time . . . if ever.
Jed gave out a fearful whimper and flipped over onto his back, lying dead still beside Cindy's cringing body. He could smell her fear. "Don't move, keep your eyes closed and play dead . . . no matter what."
Cindy could tell from the tone of his voice that he was scared silly and her nerve endings were all jangling like a hundred alarm systems being shorted out at once. She wanted to scream, but her fear constricted throat wouldn't emit a peep. Her eyelids flickered, despite his warning to keep her eyes closed, and out of one chocolate eye in the shadows of the pine trees a brown furry animal reared up on its hind legs and swiped a clawed paw at the food bag dangling from a high bough.
A bear! Dear God I'm going to die! Horror stories that shamed the pain of her mother's broken leg flickered like newsreels through her mind . . . 'grisly stories of campers mauled to death in their sleeping bags, hair ripped out by the roots, eaten alive. Eaten alive! Her heart rolled in drumbeat and she could feel Jed's body shivering beside her.
Animal sounds filled the air, grunting, rutting sounds as the bear batted at the food sack dangling two feet above his head. Branches snapped under foot as the beast gave up his struggle and headed back into the forest in search of something tastier than raisins, dried fruit and tea.
Minutes later, Jed rose up on his elbows, wiped the sweat from his brow and touched Cindy on the cheek. Fear had given way to rudely interrupted lust, and when he plunged his hand back down between her legs, she jackknifed her knees beneath him and twisted on her side. "Don't," she commanded, and it was an order not to be disobeyed. "I'm so scared."
"The bear's gone! We can't stop now!" he groaned.
"How do you know he won't come back?" she wailed through clenched teeth.
Jed angrily rolled over onto his back and slapped his forehead with his hand. "Oh, shit!" he spat.
"I'm sorry . . . but that.. . that bear scared me half to death and all you can think of is getting my cherry! Really, Jed!"
"Go to sleep," he said in a snarl of contempt.
Oh, why did everything go wrong all of a sudden?! She had wanted him to make love to her-needed him to fill her. He had even begun to make some penetration. And then that.. . darned bear had to get nosey. "Jed . . . ? "
He refused to answer. She sniffed. "Jed . . . I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you acted like it," he mumbled. "Well.. . I am. You were scared too, admit it."
"No I wasn't," his voice cold and distant. "Okay, so what if I was? I'm sorry. You're sorry, but that doesn't change the condition I'm in right now . . . the same goddamned condition I've been in ever since I met you. Don't be surprised if I go looking for a knot hole in a tree."
Cindy flared. "It's just as bad for me."
"Huh!"
"What do you mean by that?" she snapped, careful to keep her voice down and stealing fearful glances in the shadowed trees.
"Forget it."
"No, I won't forget it. What did you mean?"
He turned finally and looked down at her. After a long moment, his shoulders slumped and he sighed in exasperation. "You can turn it off. It's easy. Look at me, though. Just look!" He levered up to his knees and cupped his swollen testicles in one hand and clenched his fist around the steely glistening length of his erect cock, throbbing needlessly. "What am I supposed to do with this? Christ! It hurts a man when he get all set to make love and then nothing happens."
Cindy's trembling hand reached out tentatively toward the jutting stalk of male flesh, then drew back as if it were a snake. Thoughts of relieving him passed through her mind, but he would have to make the first move; she couldn't bring herself to be that bold. Cindy's emotions churned inside of her; she was torn between embarrassment, shame, and anger.
"Good night," he said, simply nodding his head and making no effort to hold her or kiss her.
All right, if that's the way you want it, creep! thought Cindy. She lay supine on her back on the cushiony pine needle bed, sleep like the safety of home, too far away.
CHAPTER THREE
The star-strewn sky twinkled like the hand of a wealthy woman, the diamond chips growing brighter with the deepness of night. Cindy stirred restlessly in her sleeping bag as wafts of icy air stole in through the gaping drawstring mouth where the top of her curly head peeked out meekly. No sleep for her tonight.. .
Down in the furry nest between her legs Jed's gentle touch lingered still, and her pussy lips throbbed, ached, begged for something to end this frustrated yearning. Fleetingly, she considered tapping him on the shoulder and waking him up to finish what he'd started. But.. . oh, darn it! She had to go to the bathroom. Mama was right; everything in this world was made for man's convenience, including the 'organs' between his legs.
The thought of slipping out of this warm cocoon and donning those clumsy heavy clothes to squat primitively behind a tree in these nippy temperatures was utterly revolting and one hundred percent unfeminine. Ten toes poked around in the dark depths of the sleeping bag until they touched the stiff denim that was her Levi's. Jed had instructed her to keep her clothes in the bag, warming them for morning. Arching her back, she slipped into them, the cold metal zipper making her shiver as she sucked in her breath and pulled the tab up over the smooth bowl of her belly. Beside her Jed slept peacefully, his warm flesh radiating waves of heat. Strangely, being dressed made her colder and with chattering teeth, she worked at the bag's heavy plastic zipper.
Brrrrr.. . the mountain air felt like witch's breath biting through her heavy sweater straight through to the bone, and she struggled with the stiff hiking boots hardened from cold dew. Cindy's pearly teeth chattered like castanets as she hugged herself with crossed arms and headed off to find a tree. Her boots crunched softly in the pine needle bed and then her heels dug in as she stopped in mid-step and spun around. The flashlight. . . The smoldering campfire reflected the object next to Jed's sleeping body and she plucked it up, turning it on only when the pine boughs hid her shadow. How unromantic, shamefully embarrassing to have Jed wake up to see her squatting like an Indian squaw behind a tree.
Each footstep made her tight Levi's rub against the pouting pussy mound where devilish pin-pricks of desire swelled her cuntal lips. She had felt safe in his arms, protected from lurking creatures, his naked body hovering above hers creating a protective shell from the world. That darned bear . . . she would have let him take her and make a woman out of her. Yes, she'd wanted it despite Mama's gory stories. Deep in her subconscious mind the fear lurked that she, like her mama, would hate sex, find it revolting and painful.
The forest ground still spongy from melting mountain snow made dark rings on Cindy's gray suede hiking boots whose hard rubber vibran soles sank easily into the earth. Cautiously, she swung the flashlight from right to left and satisfied, she chose a tree at random and unzipped her skin-tight Levi's, drawing the stiff denim down over her slender thighs and goose-bumped buttocks. Hooking her thumbs in the elastic of her panties, she worked them down, blushing to discover that her copious female juices had glued them in the tight hair-lined crevice. The icy air nibbled at her swollen clitoris and wafting breezes brushed against her cuntal lips like the hungry touch of an incipient lover. Cindy's black eyelashes fluttered and her right hand instinctively cupped her pubic mound when . . .
Something . . . a lumbering, hulky dark shadow appeared through the trees. Moving, its shape becoming more distinct with each twig snapping footstep until its headlight eyes beamed straight at her!
Fear, like a cornered rat, gnawed at her brain and her heart thumped in her temples. The nape of her neck went cold and tense as if someone were pounding a frozen ram rod down her spine. Squatting close to the tree she stared into the none too friendly eyes of a black nose bear! If it was a Grizzly, she was good as dead.
Oh dear God! Her fingernails, like claws of a dying bird, bit into the tree bark and slowly, so as not to startle the animal, she pulled up her Levi's and fastened them, watching dry-mouthed as the bear swung his burly head around in the air, nose sniffing, smelling, feeling for her. Cindy wanted to die. Climb a tree. . . Her brown eyes scanned the pine tree for low hanging branches but, no, bears could climb. . .
One step closer, its thickly muscled neck craning from side to side, nose high in the air. God, she could hear him smelling, almost feel the hot moisture flaring from his nostrils.
"Jed, oh God," she mumbled, closing her eyes and peering over her shoulder at the campsite not more than twenty yards away where dying orange flickers of smoldering pine boughs outlined the sleeping bag where Jed . . . Cindy swallowed, though her mouth was so dry her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth . . . A baby bear cub scampered and romped on the sleeping bag, pushing and nudging Jed's body, playfully clawing at his face.
Nose waving in the air, the cautious mother bear sniffed the night winds and advanced a few crunching steps until Cindy could see her pupils dilate darkly in anger as the wretching scent of human enemies stung her nostrils. Man had separated her from her baby cub! A throaty growl rumbled from her awesome hairy throat and following the scent, the mammoth animal reared up on brown tree-trunk sized legs and came at Cindy with open jaws that dripped saliva from ice-pick teeth. The animal's upper lip curled in contempt.
"Aaaahhhh!" Cindy's tiny hand flew to her mouth in a stifled scream, eyes wild with fear. Her hiking boots dug into the ground in a wild spring through the woods, clawing her way through underbrush and zigzagging around trees that seemed to materialize like dark omens of doom, blocking her path, confusing her. Tree branches like invisible menacing spirits grabbed at her sweater, ensnaring her. She fought back, tearing herself away despite the searing pain in her upper arm where the slow warm ooze started dripping to her elbow. Behind her the woods came alive with thundering footsteps crashing painlessly through undergrowth and side-winding trees. The instinctual inspiration to run downhill . . . (hadn't she heard somewhere that bears couldn't run downhill as fast as humans . . . ? ) made the footsteps fade in safe distance behind her in the night, but still she ran, her lungs feeling as if they would explode from the dry, burning pain for want of oxygen.
Her hiking boots chopped into the mountain earth, gnashing it under her heels, spitting dirt into the air. She picked up speed, momentum growing until she tripped over a log. A sharp pain cut through the tender flesh on her shin and that horrible image of her mother's mangled leg cleaved through her mind. She raised her head, smelling the moist dirt caked on her cheeks and she reached up to wipe away the sweet smelling gush of blood spurting from her flaring nostrils. Coughing and sputtering, Cindy felt the trickling blood clog her throat. She spit, the saliva driveling from her mouth in pink threads from the bruise on her lip. The crash of animal footsteps kicking up rocks under clawed feet and smashing through bushes with its hairy girth was no more. Cindy lay in a heaving mass on the ground, arms spread out above her head, tears scalding from her eyes to cool on the earth's floor. "Jed . . . oh, God, Jed . . . "
CHAPTER FOUR
A crackling fire splattered orange tongues of warm light over the rustically chic interior of Paul and Zelda Comstocks's three bedroom cabin inconspicuously snuggled in the lush meadows skirting the Grand Teton Mountains, south of the national park boundaries. In sunlight one could see mottled splashes of Indian Paintbrushes, Buttercups, Blue Bonnets and other ground-hugging wild flowers spread across the smooth green canvas like a Monet painting. Tonight, from their living room window the dark night skies made invisible the craggy granite peaks, save for the white snow caps jutting up to kiss the white quarter moon. The view, day or night, was a picture postcard too perfect for reality.
Zelda sat on the over-stuffed sofa sipping warm cognac from a crystal snifter, her black transparent peignoir hanging like shaded mist over her fine, lithe body that belied her thirty-eight years. Her burgundy painted toes played with the bear skin rug strewn sacrificially on the bare wood floor, now and then poking her toes into the dead gaping mouth to run her toe nails over the needle teeth in a teasing, contemptuous manner. Beside her sat Paul, her husband, a marvelously maintained man for his forty-two years, comfortably casual in a raisin brocade smoking jacket that accentuated his frosted temples. He, too, sipped at cognac and blew puffs of rich smelling cigar smoke into the flame-warmed air.
The living room oozed of comfort and citified affluence, despite the bucolic decorative touches: raw A-frame ceiling beams, hand-hewn furniture winking imperfectly with knot holes, the trophy moose head hanging above the stone fireplace. These smatterings of earthiness fell short of convincing one that its inhabitants had ever hiked a trail or fished a stream or ridden a horse. Its opulent existence, so incongruous with the primeval setting, seemed to challenge nature, daring her to interfere with the profligate easy lifestyle carried on behind its locked doors. Now, in the chill of the night the Comstock's pure bred Palomino horse bayed at the moon as if calling to his negligent master whom he had seen once-the day of his purchase.
The Comstocks took interest in nothing around their summer home except their perverse social inclinations. Jack, a broken up rodeo rider crippled with rheumatism, looked after the horse and lived in a converted section of the barn. Two maids who, like mindful children, were seldom seen and seldom heard, were kept on call to cook the meals and clean the house. They lived in the guest house out back. The Comstocks loathed interruptions, though their weekend escapades with selected guests were a hot subject between the maids.
Paul eyed his wife's luscious curves, feeling his pants bulge tightly as she bent over to rest her succulent lips on his and his hand snaked up underneath her flimsy gown, pushing the hemline abruptly up her thighs.
"Oh, you beast.. . you lovable beast!" She jumped forward trying to ensnare more of his playful fingers coursing their way along the silken sensitive insides of her thighs. "I should think you'd had enough with our insatiable house guest, darling."
"Sonia has a delicious ass, my dear, but nothing compared to your sweet buns." He grinned lopsidedly around his cigar and continued his rummaging between her naked thighs. "And what about Guy? Did you find his penis as hard and hot as your husband's or have I spoiled you?"
"Yes, baby you've spoiled me," purred Zelda, spreading her legs to let her husband have full play down in the fuzzy nest of her vagina. A bored expression tightened her aristocratic features, despite the fact that her husband's two longest fingers were ramming furiously into her seeping pussy still oozing with another man's cum. "They are terribly boring, don't you think? Her greedy groveling free-loading ambitions make me sick to my stomach, and that simpering husband of hers is a crashing bore. Really, Paul, couldn't you have found better company for the weekend? I'm not sure I can cope with another tedious evening of group sex with those social climbers."
As she stopped talking, the room fell silent save for the fire's crackle and the wet sluicing sound of her husband's boring fingers goring into her wide stretched cunt. Her eyelids fluttered sensuously as she gave into the lewd ministrations and a slow almost perceptible smile crossed her rouged lips. She closed her eyes and moaned softly.
"Darling, you're doing it to me again, you devil!" Zelda gritted her teeth as she felt the old feeling drifting through the tips of her sizzling nerves. Fortunately she had a husband who understood her perfidious delight in sex and in their unique relationship they hid nothing from each other. Yes, by common consent they had their little affairs but had never let them get beyond the physical stage. They shared everything, including sex partners.
"Ohhhhhh," she moaned again as Paul's hand was running the full silken length of her vaginal crevice, sending chills of sensation rippling across her skin. "Do you wanna be eaten alive?" she teased, her dark sparkling eyes dancing.
"Eaten, yes, baby, but not alive," he joked, twitching his finger again into the slightly squirming slit.
"What . . . we need for our parties," she gasped, her cheeks flushing from the erotic sensation down between her legs, ". . . is some fresh blood. Something . . . ahhh, God . . . to . . . to add spice . . . like . . . oh Jesus, Baby . . . like a virgin."
Zelda reached her hand down and touched the swollen bulge in her husband's pants, knowing there would be a long night ahead of her for the two of them while their house guests slept in a separate bedroom.
CHAPTER FIVE
Consciousness descended upon Cindy in a cold suffusing chill and weakly she raised her head, whimpering from the thumping pressure behind her eyes that swept over the forest floor twinkling with morning light filtered through tree tops. The birds sang joyfully, dissolving the horrors of last night's death chase through the woods. Wriggling on her stomach, she bent one leg, drawing up her knee and reached down to massage it. She swallowed dryly, the metallic taste of blood heavy in her mouth. She spit, then wiped her lips with the back of her hand that came away with specks of raisin colored dried blood.
Where . . . what was she doing here? Her gnarled fingers brushed through her hair, combing it free of debris. Painfully, she rolled over onto her back trying to make sense of nonsense. And Jed. . . where was he? Two vacuous brown eyes raked over the forest floor searching for answers that were not to come from that innocently mute source. Wearily, Cindy let her eyelids droop and the vision of those steel trap jaws and ice pick teeth made her whimper. Oh God, that bear.. . and Jed! She had to find the trail back to the campsite where her lover may be lying in a pool of blood, his face mauled. Oh, why hadn't she let him make love to her if that was to be their last night together?
Dizzily, she rolled over and managed to raise up on all fours, the thumping behind her eyes cruder now. Prisms of light sprinkled before her eyes as she struggled to her feet and leaned against a tree, grabbing her bruised arm. She needed water, food and medical help . . . and to find Jed!
For hours she tromped around the slopes stumbling and falling in dazed delirium. Girl Scouts had taught her nothing about wilderness survival and despite her zigzagging efforts to cross the trail, it trickfully evaded her. Afternoon found her in the grassy meadows surrounding Jenny Lake amidst a herd of mule deer making their daily trek to the waterhole, scampering in fear now as their moist velvety nostrils picked up the scent of man. Exhausted from hunger and thirst, she collapsed on the ground and fell unconscious while darkness gobbled up daylight.
Biting winds carrying fog from the lake below nipped through her woolen sweater and sweat soaked T-shirt, chilling her to the marrow. Cindy lay stomach down, pain spreading like a contagious disease over her body.
* * *
Perhaps it was a senile throwback to childhood days on the family's Idaho ranch. Religiously at the crack of down Jack Taylor added water to yesterday's grounds and rolled two cigarettes for the trail. Of all hours he loved dawn best.. . when the dew-kissed grass shimmered in the pink sunlight, intensifying as the sun peeked over the dark mountain crests.
The musty smelling hayloft wasn't much, but it was home. In exchange for taking care of the horse the Comstocks had insulated the barn's upper loft. In winter months Jack used the space heater to ease his rheumatism, but in springtime, like now, an extra wool blanket provided warmth enough.
Jack pulled on over his long-legged underwear yesterday's mud-stiff Levi's and yanked on a shirt lopped over the bedpost and kicked his way into his dusty cowboy boots. He examined his leathery face in the mirror, rubbing his hand across its four day growth. Naw . . . shave could wait 'til Sunday. He drank his muddy coffee steaming and black and smoked a cigarette. Hell of a life, being a bachelor cowpoke, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Those imagine city folk living inside that house were cozy, but hell, they couldn't survive a night in the woods. You had to be tough, calloused to take care of yourself. Jack wouldn't have traded his peaceful lifestyle for all the horses in Wyoming and Montana put together.
The Wyoming sky was a canvas of streaked warm colors when he tromped, spurs clinking and blowing up dust, out to the corral and saddled up the Palomino. Poor girl, what the hell they bought her for Jack couldn't understand. Nobody rode her except for him and that made him feel sorry for the mare. Everybody needs attention, he thought dolefully . . . old men and old horses.
A strange bunch, those Comstocks, he mused grunting and pulling himself into the saddle. Every weekend they came up from the city with another couple. For having all those friends they sure weren't hospitable folks. Hell . . . not that it was any of his business, but you'd think they'd take enough pride in the place to walk around the meadows or ride their horse.
Digging his spurs into the mare's side, the aging cowboy galloped off through the meadows, the winking blue jewel of Lake Jenny sparkling in the distance. "Whoooopeeee!" He clutched at the lips of his cowboy hat and waved it high in reminiscence of days in the rodeo ring, the fresh morning stillness awakening his senses with the jolting of the gallop. "Yaxmahhwwwhhhhhooooooo!"
Abruptly his eyes narrowed and his leathery hands tugged at the reins, tightening the bit. Frothing at the mouth, the horse whinnied and drew to a halt, rearing up on her hind legs against the pain in her mouth.
"I'll be a buzzard's uncle." The old cowboy pressed his hat to his chest and squinted in the near distance where something too big for a rock and too colorful for a deer carcass struck his vision. "Whoooaaaaa. . . baby!" He slid off the horse, his spurs jingling metallically as he dashed bull-legged through the wet grass, slow at first then breaking into a run. His leathery face cracked into a smile. "Jimpin' Jahosafats!" It was a girl and a darned pretty one at that!
Jack put his sinewy hands under her armpits and pulled her up like a baby long horn. Her curly black head wobbled lifelessly from side to side and then two brown sunken eyes centered in a badly scratched, though pretty, face stared into his wrinkled up face, Cindy screamed, kicking frantically and yelling hysterically. "Hate to do this, miss, but it's better for both of us."
Whap! His hand stung against her cheek and her head again went limp. The Palomino horse came at a gallop when she heard the familiar whistle, and Jack flopped Cindy's lithe, bruised body over the horse's rear quarters and headed back home.
The poor lady needed help he couldn't give her. Pretty thing. A moldy, smelling hay loft was no place for a girl to regain consciousness. Gosh, if he were thirty years younger he might take her . . . but hell, he was just a broken up rodeo cowboy. Too many bull hooves had smashed in his face to make him a lady's man, but looking down at her spread out on his bed, her breasts rising and falling in unconscious sleep, made something inside of him churn that he thought had died long ago.
Mindless of the hour, he left Cindy in the hay loft while he headed for the house. For all his boldness Jack turned yellow belly when it came to facing the Comstocks on their turf. Seldom did they show themselves and never their guests. An aura of secrecy enshrouded that house that made him keep his distance.
His gnarled knuckles banged on the screen door, hat pressed tight to his chest and he ran his fingers through his gray hair in a last ditch effort to appear kempt. Paul Comstock opened the door, looking none too pleased by the early morning intrusion. The terry robe he wore had been pulled on in haste and sleep lines were etched around his dark eyes.
"Mr. Comstock . . . ? " Jack spoke through the mesh door. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but I found a girl out in the lower forty. Poor thing's needin' help. 'Spose I could bring her in?"
Paul's face registered no concern, only irritation. "Where is she now?"
"Who the hell is that?" bellowed Zelda from the bedroom, her shuffling slippers growing louder as she emerged, pulling tight the belt of her peignoir. Without makeup she looked younger than he'd remembered her to be, her high aristocratic cheekbones hinting at a youthful beauty far from lost, though a hardened set to her jaw negated the softness of ultra-femininity that her frothy peignoir tried to impart. Her long bleached blonde hair was swept back from her forehead and he noticed for the first time her widow's peak that gave her a diabolical, witchy look.
Jack sucked in his breath and clutched his hat tighter to his chest. Jesus God, the woman was naked under that flimsy thing! The puffy outline of her nipples and darker patch between her thighs was no secret under the fluffs of yellow nylon. Zelda glowered through the screen at Jack.
"For Godsakes, let him in and close the door before we all catch pneumonia," she grumbled, throwing herself down into the sofa and pulling her legs tight under her while her gimlet eyes raked over Jack's dirty Levi's and dusty boots. Five burgundy fingertips opened a silver cigarette box on the glass etagere. Paul hastened to her side to light her cigarette, an effort for which he received no appreciation.
"He found a girl unconscious out in the fields."
. "How old is she, cowboy?" she asked with flat disinterest, her high cheekbones hollowing as she puffed on her cigarette, blowing the smoke out of her flaring nostrils. Jack's blue eyes rounded. "Oh, I'd say about nineteen, maybe. Pretty young thing, she is."
"Oh?" A wry smile crossed Zelda's smirking lips while she glanced at her husband below raised eyebrows. "Our new blood has arrived, dear." She turned to Jack, looking him in the eye for the first time. "Bring the girl in and let's have a look at her."
Dumping her over his crooked shoulder like a sack of feed, Jack toted Cindy down the ladder, past the corral and over the lawn to the Comstock's cabin where smoke belched from the chimney. Inside, Zelda had personally attended to preparing the second guest bedroom on the first floor, her mood lightening now that fate had sent a new toy to her doorstep. Upstairs the Greenleys slept on, incognizant of the new development in the week long party that Paul Comstock's perfidious wife had so cleverly arranged.
Panting and grunting, the old cowboy shuffled into the guest bedroom and lay the girl down on the white chenille bedspread, a whimpered groan escaping Cindy's swollen lips giving them a sensuous, pouting appeal that struck a cord in Zelda's lustful heart.
"What a gorgeous young thing!" grinned the lady of the house, her fingers all aflutter, yanking at zippers and twisting buttons, preparing the girl for washing.
Cindy lay in dazed consciousness, hovering between wakening and sleep, her curly black hair still lustrously shiny, strewn with things of the woods that Zelda plucked disgustedly. One chocolate eye peeped open as she felt foreign fingers working at her sweater and moving her injured arm thoughtlessly. A hospital. . . she must be in a hospital. Cindy's eyes struggled to stay open this time, expecting to see a motherly-faced nurse dressed in white, but instead she focused on a smirking, threatening face.
"No! Oh . . . where . . . oh God . . . " Cindy rose feebly on her elbows; overcome by the effort, she collapsed back on the bed.
"You'll be all right, angel darling. We'll take care of you . . . you bet we will," Zelda rasped huskily. "Now roll over and help me get this filthy T-shirt off of you," she instructed impatiently, then in a softer tone: "And let me see those . . . young titties."
"Oh!" Cindy put her hand to her aching head. "I . . . I . . . Jed . . . where's Jed?" Her voice trailed off in a weak whisper, her eyes staring blankly, seeing nothing.
Jack peeked his head around the doorway, his hat still pressed reverently to his chest, eyes wide with concern, though it was Zelda's yellow-hazed naked buttocks that held his rapt attention.
Zelda spun around. "If you're going to stand around gawking, cowboy, make yourself useful and get those lazy-assed maids to heat some milk. My poor baby is dehydrated!" snapped Zelda, shooting at her husband an urgent look that as much as said, "Get that dirty cowpoke out of my house!"
CHAPTER SIX
"Cindy. Cinnddeeeeee . . . Oh God, Cindee-ee . . . answer me!" The last two Words snapped out with unconscious anger.
Jed had stumbled about the woods for a day and a half, struggling with both backpacks despite the biting ache in his tender shoulders where the bear cub had ribboned his back, delighting in its innocent frolic as would a three-year-old child drawing pictures with a stick in the sand. Fortunately his face was unscathed, for in playing dead he'd protected his good looks with upheld arms. His leg pained him most. Underneath the Ace bandage his kneecap was a swollen mass of throbbing flesh, blackened like a rotten apple.
"Cinddeeeee!" His voice grew hoarser until his cries came out in strangled pleas that he didn't recognize as his own voice.
Horrified, his stomach knotting, he'd seen Cindy's hovering shadow as the mother bear reared up on hind legs and charged after her. Even now the sound of Cindy's bloodcurdling screams echoed in his ear drums, frightening as the drumbeat of an Indian warrior on the war path.
The bear was not a Grizzly, that he knew. Either Cindy had outwitted the bear or the beast had mauled her and dragged her bleeding body down to his den to finish her off. No . . . bears weren't carnivorous. Oh shit, what did he know?
"Sorry, Mrs. Weinstein, but I came home without your daughter. A bear attacked our campsite and ate your daughter. OH, me? Oh, I'm just fine. A few scratches, that's all. . . "
Cripes, how could he explain this to Cindy's parents?
Weakened but too distraught to eat, Jed slipped the twin backpacks from his sore, sweat-soaked back and collapsed on the ground, hating himself for daring a fragile young lady out into the wilds and subjecting her to dangers he was too cowardly to believe existed. With gut-wrenching fear, he asked himself what he'd been trying to prove by driving her beyond her strength, snapping at her just complaints, playing Cochise to swell his ego and prove his bloated machismo that was so damned precious to him . . . for without it he couldn't justify bashing in heads out on the football field. Latently, he was probably a wife beater, too.
Jed buried his face in his hands and wept. "Cindy . . . oh God, Cindy . . . come back. Don't be dead."
* * *
It wasn't her mother's chicken soup but it stayed down. Cindy fell languidly back on the pillow, staring into the snappy eyes of the blonde woman sitting at her bedside stirring to cool the soup, her red talon fingertips clutching at the spoon. A hawkish quality in this woman's bewildering character seemed grossly incongruous with her soft palms that rubbed ointments into bruises and raised the hem of her nightgown to massage the aching muscles in her back. Today, like yesterday, Cindy's insistence on calling the ranger station was quickly aborted in curt finality.
"No, darling. You're not well enough to leave us yet. The telephone.. . Oh, this is our retreat, baby . . . we don't have one. We'll take you into town in a couple of days. Jed? Now why would you want to find him after he left you alone up there?"
Now, over the yellow shimmer of chicken broth making its way to her mouth, Cindy eyed the woman curiously, her wide brown eyes moving from the heart-shaped widow's peak, down over the straight satiny forehead and high cheekbones to her thin-lipped smile. The smell of fine perfume wafted from this woman's deeply shadowed cleavage pinched together in a plunging-necked day dress whose scarlet hue matched perfectly the glossy lipstick and nail polish she wore. Why all the frills in the middle of the woods?
It was not out of motherly concern that Cindy was denied clearance to wander about the cabin, that she knew. The woman's cloying possessiveness dominated Cindy's spirit, squelching the fight within her. For two days Zelda incubated her, monitoring every footstep, and so Cindy eyed the invitation cynically:
"The color is coming back to your cheeks, dear. You do feel well enough to join us for a drink by the fire tonight, don't you?"
Cindy batted her dark eyelashes in bewilderment, too suspicious to know what questions to ask.
"My guests would love to meet you and all of us together would have a wonderful time," she said in a calculated tone that ate at Cindy's consciousness like the scrape of fingernails on a chalk board. This woman reeked with the casual assurance of the affluent and, although her figure was stunningly preserved, Cindy guessed she must be in her late thirties.
Zelda's gimlet eyes lifted from the spoon and bored into Cindy's with such a strange light the embarrassed girl quickly looked toward the window.
"Well. . . ? "
"Yes . . . I guess . . . I could." Immediately her eyebrows arched. "And tomorrow I will contact the ranger station and find Jed."
"Of course," came the too hasty answer.
The soft yellow afternoon sunlight gave way to murky shadows, the raw ceiling beams creating guillotine-shaped shadows on the eggshell walls of Cindy's bedroom. Outside muffled laughter and the biting smell of cigarette smoke seeping under the door gave her an uncomfortable, trapped feeling. Cindy's eyes popped open as they focused on the turning doorknob.
Zelda swooped in, obviously dressed for company. Heavy dark eye shadow and thick mascara gave her eyes a bewitching glint, and her soft unnaturally blonde hair fell languidly over the shoulders of a royal purple Indian sari. The smell of her perfume reached Cindy before Zelda's hand did.
"Darling, I've brought you a dress," she said, bending over until her heavy breasts nearly spilled out and brushing her soft palm over Cindy's forehead. "Our guests are dying to meet you. We'll see you soon?"
No invitation, this . . . a flat command.
I'll stay in bed she's going to say I'm too weak to contact the ranger station about Jed, reasoned Cindy, flipping back the sheet and touching her toes to the thick carpet. In one swoop she pulled the nightie off over her head, her milky breasts straining to swollen fullness as she raised her arms. Cynically, she picked up the offered day dress and held it up to her naked body, bending her leg and holding it out to test the length. The yellow nylon gown's empire "waist hugged her rib cage, pushing out her full breasts adding whatever inches she felt nature had cheated her of, and mashing them together like two half-inflated balloons. The soft maze gave Cindy's chocolate-brown eyes a softer glow and deepened her wheat tan.
Chatting and laughter stopped in mid-breath and sixteen eyes turned anticipatorily. Cindy wanted to fade into the woodwork, shrink away from their suggestively prying eyes. In a rustle of purple silk clinging to Zelda's generous curves, she reached Cindy and draped her arm tightly around Cindy's shoulders, holding her in a clutch.
"Darling, I want you to meet Sonia and Guy Greenley. And you know my husband. Everyone . . . this is Cindy."
Cindy stood clumsily holding her hands in front, feeling foolishly, conspicuously tongue-tied. Zelda did that to her-made her feel ill at ease with herself.
"Ready to party with us?" The words came from Paul Comstock, a slick magazine whiskey ad type in Cindy's summation. Something depraved and hungering about his too sleek, too perfect features sent involuntary shivers of repulsion through Cindy's teen-age flesh. More disquieting still, he was eyeing the other man's wife with more than casual interest.
Tension crackled in the room as Sonia Greenley, a dark-haired cheap version of Marilyn Monroe, snickered at Paul's invitation while gazing back at him with smoldering covetous eyes. Cindy withered inside knowing these people were silently communicating in a physically suggestive manner their impression of her. She wanted to shrivel up and die. Only her mother's staunch etiquette training refrained her from lifting up her skirt and making a mad dash for the door.
Sonia Greeley raised her champagne glass in a toast. "To our new party favor," she smirked, closing her succulent red lips over the fragile crystal rim while flashing a seductive smile at Zelda's husband. Sonia was slender and sinuous, sleek and panther-like with her deep tan and long black hair. The strawberry tips of her swollen breasts peeked out like bumble bees from the flowered print of her thin voile dress. Flagrantly sexy in a coquettish way, she was the diametrical opposite of blonde haired blatantly lustful Zelda. Zelda the lion, Sonia the kitten.
The rich raising brocade of Paul's smoking jacket shimmered in the firelight as he rose from the couch and sauntered over to the bar where he pulled the champagne bottle from the silver ice bucket and made the rounds, offering a fresh glass to Cindy.
"I don't drink, thank you," murmured Cindy.
"Drink it, darling," ordered Zelda. "It'll build your stamina." She slinked over to the sofa and sat down in a gust of purple silk, then patted the soft leather beside her.
"Come sit by me, Cindy angel. Doesn't she look adorable?"
The teenager blushed, feeling like an animal caught in a steely trap. Zelda's every motion and word carried a surreptitious demand that shattered all illusion of generosity. Despite her hesitancy, Cindy obeyed, sitting on the sofa next to the arm, clutching it to avoid the heated presence of the blonde vampire whose hot breath seemed to burn Cindy's flushed cheeks. She sipped the bubbly and wrinkled her nose, sucking in her breath as a tingle of heat exploded in her unexpecting stomach. Desperate for distraction, she sipped eagerly, feeling awkward and uneasy as the two older couples stared at her with unsettling interest, running their eyes up and down her plumply curved young body. Even the women! Something perfidiously twisted was going on this room and she wanted none of it.
Zelda's long slender arm reached out to encircle Cindy's shoulders, drawing her closer, her red talon fingernails digging into Cindy's tender skin with vampirical insistence. A cold shudder, repulsive as a dead snake, wiggled up her spine and a growing sense of dread choked in her throat.
Still, how could she fear these people when they had taken her in and nursed her back to health? Don't be duped, she told herself. They want something. I can feel it.. . Head-on she confronted them with her suspicions.
"I don't know how to thank you enough," she blurted out to Zelda, aware that the woman's fingers had slinked down from her shoulders to her breast bone and were playing lightly over the swollen mounds of her breasts.
"You will, darling," returned Zelda in a husky smile, licking her lips. "Believe me, you will."
The conversation moved to the Dow Jones Industrial Average and after learning that Paul Comstock was a financial consultant who'd made his millions during the Viet Nam 'conflict', it became explainable why Sonia Greenley was flaunting her provocative body at Paul. She was a social climber of the undefeatable sort, the driving force behind her husband. And her bumps and grinds in Mr. Comstock's direction didn't ruffle Zelda's feathers in the least; she watched in cool amusement.
Then to Cindy's shocked amazement her round brown eyes turned pale at the sight of Paul's fingers darting to Sonia's smooth fleshed thigh to slowly caress her there, edging upward beneath the hem of her dress. Zelda's husband and Guy's wife casually stretched out on their backs on the bear skin rug, facing each other, oblivious to the others as Paul's hand rubbed higher up in the silken fleshy thighs while the dark haired kitten mewled and fondled the bulge in the crotch of his black silk pajamas.
Their total lack of discretion baffled Cindy. Cheeks blazing with embarrassment, the dark haired Skokie girl reared on family togetherness couldn't take her eyes off this x-rated movie. Sonia's pouty lips were parted and her hips ground against Paul's hand disappearing in groping ripples up beneath her dress. From the teeth gritting smirk on Sonia's face, one didn't have to be a genius to see he was squeezing and fondling her pubic mound, and to add to the nineteen year old virgin's horror, she could clearly see the banana-sized bulge straining at Paul's pants, a dark wet circle sopping the tip where Sonia caressed the rubbery cockhead.
"I.. . I.. . think I'll.. . go back to my room now," Cindy whispered to Zelda who sat beside her with a mocking smile, watching the couple on the rug with an intense gleam in her eyes. Cindy was sickened by Zelda's unflinching reaction and when she glanced at Sonia's timid husband, her jaw fell slack. He too seemed immensely excited as he watched his own wife squirm her hips while another man finger fucked Sonia through her panties!
"I.. . I'm not feeling . . . very well," stammered Cindy.
"Of course you do, darling. Tomorrow we have to call the ranger station, remember?" Zelda added in a throaty voice, resting her fingers on Cindy's soft thigh, staring down at the deep cleavage of her firm breasts with a mongering hunger that made Cindy clasp her throat.
Their eyes, glassy and vacuous, were all staring at her unblinkingly like a scene from a psycho horror movie . . . even Paul and Sonia who were still stroking each other's genitals. The metallic taste of fear rose in Cindy's throat as she glanced nervously at each of their faces; they watched her like a helpless rabbit in a cage, and their eyes were so blatantly, demonically, lustful that Cindy began to tremble with rising dread. Her startled brown eyes dropped to the soft rug beneath her feet, and the gaping steel jaws of the bear stared up at her with its glassy eyes, she let out a frightened whimper. These people were no less threatening than the angry bear responsible for driving her to their doorstep.. .as if the Comstock and that bear had made a pact to get that nineteen year old virgin from Skokie!
For the first time Cindy saw these people for what they were. How could Zelda be so calm, even amused, while her husband obscenely fondled another man's wife only a few feet away? And Guy, too, seemed almost feverishly aroused at the disgusting sight of his own wife stroking another man's penis while Paul rammed his fingers into her vagina. Who Js Afraid of Virginia Wolf was child's play compared to the psychological games going on right here before her startled eyes.
But the terrified girl's terror was rooted deeper in the electrifying air of suspense hanging like a pregnant cloud in the room, an aura of impending violence that made Cindy want to leap up and flee before their infectious lewdity tainted her too. Like a seeping green foul smelling ooze it rotted the post-card view of the mountains. The howling wind outside bluntly reminded Cindy she had nowhere to go. Summoning the firmest voice she could muster, she said:
"I don't know why you're all looking at me like that-but please, stop it! I've gone though a lot of pain lately, and I don't feel well . . . I'll . . . I'll go to my room and leave you alone."
Zelda broke the silence with a coarse laugh, her red talons cruelly squeezing the tender flesh of Cindy's thigh.
"Don't be silly, honey! We invited you out here to share with us. We're all stuck here in these lonely mountains for another three days, so we might as well get acquainted. And I have to remind you that I did save your life. Weren't you telling us yesterday how grateful you were? Well, a gorgeous young thing like you ought to be able to manage a debt like that. . . Jesus, your cunt is hot!"
With a cry of horror, Cindy suddenly became aware that the blonde woman's fingers had slid unnoticed up under the hem of her dress while she'd talked, so adroitly that the startled virgin paralyzed with shock conceded unprotestingly to Zelda's finger-massage rubbing her pubic mound through her sheer panties.
With a cry of disgust, Cindy flung Zelda's hand away and flailed her head from side to side, hearing her own timid voice crack with fear:
"Don't touch me! Please, please leave me alone . . . all of you. I don't care what you do, just don't.. . touch me!"
The girl's brown eyed pleading trailed off as the four of them glanced at each other, passing a silent message that Cindy could smell, even through her fear. Her tears caught in her throat but her panting breasts betrayed her panic and the air of tension in the cabin become suffocating. Determinedly, she stood up from the couch and advanced two steps toward the door, winding her way through the tangle of arms and legs on the bear skin rug where Paul and Sonia pawed at each other.
"Hhhggghhhhh . . . ! " Cindy sucked in her breath as Paul's hand struck out and grasped her slender ankle.
"Where you going, honey? Stay and enjoy the party."
Cindy glared down at him, her fear constricted throat threatening to gag her. Dear God . . . I'm trapped with four sex maniacs! All of them are sex perverts! It s a nightmare . . . its got to be!
The eyes were upon her again, four pairs of demonic beacons. Sonia reared up on her knees, a crooked smirk crossing her rouged lips as one delicate hand reached up with the unmistakable intent of fondling her breasts. Cindy shrunk away, cowering back on the couch beside Zelda who laughed amusedly. Now the trembling brunette was hemmed in by both women and Cindy knew in that split second of scorching reality that something shocking and forbidden was about to happen. She was victim to agonizing suspense and her own terrified emotions. Like rattlesnakes ready to strike, their gimlet eyes watched her every movement, and Cindy knew that any provocation on her part could trigger their violence . . . giving them the chance to sink their teeth into her tender virginal flesh and poison her with their obscene venom. Their clutching hands were something out of a horror movie and Cindy, in a burst of hysteria, made a mad scrambled on all fours.
The females flung themselves on her in the blink of an eye, flinging her over on her back on the bear skin rug and pinning her shoulders down brutally, Zelda's face hovering over Cindy's, a sadistic smirk showing the white line of her teeth.
"Get some ropes!" Zelda snapped at her husband, then smiled mockingly down at the sobbing brunette. "Don't worry, sugar, we won't hurt you," Zelda purred, her mouth so close to Cindy's she could nearly taste the liquor on her breath. "We're going to play a little game with you. I happen to enjoy inventing games, and I know of a juicy one for a doll like you. Mmmmmm.. . . " she added in a hoarse Bette Davis whisper, "I can't wait to suck those angel titties!"
The vulgar promise sparked a fury of resistance in Cindy and she made one last ditch effort to wrench herself free, but the two women held her shoulders firmly crushed to the rug, laughing at Cindy's sobs.
"Oh, Cindy," Zelda chuckled, shaking her blonde head, "when we get through with you, darling, you're going to be begging for it. You're going to crawl on your hands and knees and beg me to let you eat my pussy, my angel. You're going to lick my asshole and love it because you're going to be my ultimate triumph, my Jewish princess!"
Zelda's face was so close to Cindy's their lips nearly touched. "I'm going to turn you on so hot, sweetheart, you're going to become a wild animal, a magnificent fucking machine . . . you're going to be my masterpiece, and believe me, I've had my share."
The terror-stricken virgin stared up at Zelda's lust-contorted face with chilling fascination and for a long moment Cindy's quivering body froze. She was mad! Zelda was rich, beautiful, bored and insane with lust. She, Cindy, was a pawn in this woman's chess game.
"Don't hurt me," sobbed Cindy. "Please.. . I'm only nineteen . . . I'm a virgin! I've never had sex. OH, God, let me go!"
"A virgin!" Zelda echoed, her dark eyes widening in astonishment. "Do you hear that, gang? She's a virgin! Sweet mother of screwing, we've struck gold in these hills. Oh, baby, are you in for the time of your life.
Where the hell is that rope?"
The moment Paul Comstock loomed into view holding a long coil of rope, the whimpering girl went into a hysteria of kicking and screaming that took all four of them to subdue.
"You guys take her wrists and we'll strip her from the top," panted Sonia, her eyes wild with lust. "I want to see what that itty, bitty cherry looks like," she giggled flirtatiously.
Clenching her eyes shut, Cindy fought with every fiber of her strength, but the four of them easily overpowered her. The men held her arms above her head while Zelda worked up the hem of her gown. Her tan face crimson with humiliation, Cindy moaned in terror as one of the men held both her wrists and the other pinned her ankles. The sobbing virgin felt her gown being slid up over her futilely writhing hips, Zelda's husky words ringing in her ears.
"Oh Mother of God, she's going to be a honey. Even with her panties on she's sexy enough to eat right now! You're going to have your hands full fucking this gorgeous animal, boys. She's a feast-look at those thighs and her pussy hair peeking out around her panties. Paul, God, I could almost cum right now just thinking about you sticking your prick inside her hot little pussy . . . and a cherry, too, darling. Your wife is good to you, baby!"
The smutty words deepened Cindy's shame and panic, but already she could feel the weakness in her arms and legs stealing her energy. "Acuihhhnnnnoooo!" She felt warm hands yanking at her panties, pulling them down, exposing her black silken pussy curls and the pink slit of her defenseless vagina, but she couldn't deny a very faint thrill of pride at their glowing comments, even in her humiliating torment.
"Tight and juicy for sure," Paul rasped. "Hope I can wiggle my cock in that tiny slit."
"She is gorgeous . . . all pink and wet and hot.. . " put in Guy, kneeling at her head and clasping his wiry fingers over Cindy's wrists and squeezing until her fingers turned white.
"She'll taste like honey." Zelda licked her lips. "God, I wish I could suck those pussy lips right now!"
"Why not?" Guy asked dully, his ruddy complexion growing redder still under the effort.
"Because my game has rules," snapped Zelda glaring at her house guest with curt disdain. "I said she'd beg for it, and she will . . . I don't care if it takes until next winter. When we get done with her she'll crawl like a dog for sex, she'll go down on every one of us with tears of joy in her eyes, she'll fuck like a sex-starved nympho on Spanish fly. When I finish with her she'll swing that tight little ass like a Catholic rabbit.. . and she'll beg to get raped back there, too."
"Never!" hissed Cindy, opening her tear-filled eyes, feeling a furious surge of pride and dignity. She knew the conviction of her morals and they weren't about to rot in the face of these threats. "You'll never make me do that," the helplessly bound virgin swore, wriggling her soft creamy flesh in a feeble struggle. "You can tear my fingernails out and make me eat bamboo . . . but never . . . never will I grovel like a dog!"
Zelda threw back her head and laughed tauntingly as she lifted the sari above her knees and sat on her haunches enabling her to rub the girl's yielding belly flesh with her long painted fingertips. "Honey, if there's one thing I love, it's a woman with spirit. Too damn many simpering bitches in this world," she said, glaring at Sonia out of the corner of her eye. "Lock the doors, fellas, our party favor is about to jump out of the cake."
The men went about their work under Zelda's strict directives, and in seconds the doors and windows were secured and Cindy was securely tied down by her wrists and ankles, the ropes anchored to heavy furniture. Like some hapless animal ready to be butchered, Cindy lay with her arms and legs stretched out, her vulnerable thighs spread wide, her delicate pink cuntal lips fully exposed between their dark-curled fringes, her palpitating breasts tipped with succulent rosebud nipples flushed deeply. Elephant tears scalded down her flushed cheeks. Cindy cried softly, her eyes still closed.
"She's beautiful," Guy muttered greedily. "Man, I've got to fuck those tits!"
Zelda was quick to rebuke. "I said my game had rules, idiot! Nobody . . . not even Paul, moves until given permission. Is that understood, Guy?"
A pall of silence fell over the room broken only by the muffled sobbing of their victim and the whipping mountain night winds. Now and then the Palomino bayed at the moon.
Paul nodded, his blood-filled cock pulsing painfully against the crotch of his silk lounging pajamas. "That's right. Her rules or nothing." His eyes fell down at the spread-eagled teenage girl, changing the direction of everyone's attention.
"Now that we have that settled," Zelda said sitting on her haunches and massaging Cindy's smoothly rippling stomach, "get out the champagne, Paul, and let's toast to our virgin sacrifice."
"Only, darling," smirked Paul, "if I can have her ass when she begs for it."
On the fur rug Cindy listened with but a fraction of her shocked mind to their sultry conversation. The bear chase was nothing compared to the fear and sense of impending doom she experienced now. Animals maimed out of fear, never for sport, but these two-legged beasts would not stop until they had mauled her femininity, torn her hymen and ravished her anus. The mountains suddenly loomed sacred and civil compared to the demonic, bestial evil about to burst in this lushly furnished cabin.
The soft bear fur under her naked body caressed her flesh in an ironic reminder that she had survived the perils of nature's wilds, but could she survive the psychological and physical torture about to be inflicted upon her by those of her own kind? Zelda suffered a psychological affliction common to the rich: a psychological boredom whose conclusion bordered on sexual cannibalism. And Cindy was another statistic, another trophy to her depraved victory. Their obscene promises had already sent her imagination whirling in terror while she could almost feel a massively throbbing penis ramming deep into her virginal vagina in one long scorching thrust, or battering her tiny unstretched anus, making her cry out in anguish. But never, never would she surrender her pride and grovel and beg. They could rape her in every hole in her body with their voracious lips and tongues and fingers as well as their cocks, but they could never reduce her to their depraved level, never transform her innate dignity so that she became a whimpering animal begging for raw pleasure. No, sex was more sacred than that. Mamma had said so . . .
"Never!" Cindy whispered aloud as the four of them drank a mocking toast over her nakedly shivering flesh, cold dribbles of champagne pooling on her belly and the creamy valley of her cleavage.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A vacuumed tomb-like atmosphere darkened the living room where the draped windows and locked doors barred interruptions from the outside and held in the cloying stench of cigarette smoke and murky sexual vibrations. Tension crackled in the room.
Tied by ropes, laying vulnerably spread eagled on the bear skin rug with their haunting eyes raking over her nakedly shivering body, Cindy felt like someone's drug hallucination come to life: a virgin sacrifice in pagan mythology. Above her the sorcerer, Zelda Comstock, slipped out of her silk sari with a delicious sense of anticipation, shuddering from the expectant tingle in her lips and tongue as she swept her hot gaze down to Cindy's glistening cuntal lips.
Zelda's beguiling penchant for games was the logical conclusion for a once practicing psychiatrist who'd married into wealth and refused to blend undistinguished into the glittering backdrop of her husband's lavish lifestyle. The affliction of the wealthy, ennui, settled in during her late twenties when avant-garde swapping parties were still tantalizing risque. They bored her, that simplistic I'll-let-you-have-my-husband-if-I-can-have-yours psychology. Too superficial, too unenduring. Slowly, she developed her own style of swapping and with it, an unnatural bent for teasing and corrupting. And this young, ripe victim laying sacrificially on the floor fired Zelda's imagination.
Zelda stared hungrily at Cindy's fluffy pussy lips as she stripped off her own black bikinis, giving the others as eye full of her lush growth of brown pubic curls several shades lighter than the hair on her head. The naked vulnerability of Cindy's virginal genitals lent an added thrill to the perverted game Zelda called 'mind fucking.' Now, with her victim roped and totally forced into submission, she knew she could dispense with all her contrived charm and persuasion and immediately plunge into the ritual of merciless teasing and irrevocable sensual corruption. Zelda was a witch, a sexual cannibal, devouring youth and innocence.
The countless husbands and wives who had groaned and grunted eagerly beneath her fiery mouth and fingers and above her wildly clasping mouse trap cunt filled her with contempt. What challenge was there in a willing pussy or cock? No conquest, just another used, desperate body searching for new kicks like herself.
Fully naked now, Zelda stood between Cindy's widespread legs and rubbed her long middle fingers around the slowly puckering nipples as she stared down at the lovely brunette, deliberately rousing herself to teeth clenching excitement and lustful impatience. The girl's mouth was small and delicate like her glistening pussy, and Zelda shivered happily as she imagined Cindy's ripe pink lips sucking voraciously at her swollen pussy lips and throbbing clitoris. God, how she loved that! This Little Red Riding Hood would be perfect for sixty-nine, and if Paul's stud horse cock got all the glory out of bursting her precious cherry, at least Zelda could console herself that her own tongue had licked it first.
Cindy stared up at the blonde tormentor's shimmering nakedness bathed in orange fire light, then glanced at the others who were also naked but waiting for the witchy blonde to start shouting orders. But Zelda was in no rush. She let the suspense mount, pinching her dark nipples between her fingers and felt them pucker hungrily as she reveled in omnipotence. Looking at her, one had the feeling she could have been a Mussolini or Hitler reincarnated; this dominating quality made her orgies so unpredictable and in demand. Zelda the queen bee, her husband and everyone else her drones.
To prolong the unexpected was the name of her game, and Zelda turned to take in a cursory glance at the Greenleys, whose insufferably boring company could be forgotten now that she had her virgin. As usual, Sonia was giddy with drink, something about her hysterical nervousness that made her laugh too loudly and agree too readily, amused Zelda. It had been the cunning dark haired young wife-and not her milk toast husband-who'd leaped at Paul's suggestion of a private party in their mountain cabin and, knowing that the Greenleys had traveled in the same swapping circuit, Zelda was curious to test their limits.
She ran her dark eyes hungrily over Guy's sinewy body, lanky like most Scotsmen, drinking in his thick male flesh that poked out straight from his coarse sandy pubic curls, its rubbery head swollen with blood. New cocks were a favorite toy of Zelda who spotted a milk-white drop of over eager pre-cum oozing from the slit of his glans, tempting her to drop to her knees before him and lick the salty sperm up on her tongue. She knew she could give Sonia's husband a blow job that would shame his wife, and while she loved to prove her superiority at fellatio, she knew there would be time for egotistical satisfaction later.
The blonde's gleaming eyes darted next to Sonia, sweeping over her high, daintily rounded breasts with their taut dark nipples and down over her gently curved belly and slim hips, and a fresh ripple of lust raced through Zelda's sun bronzed flesh. There was something wildly arousing about that leggy housewife, an hint of frenzied need in her burning, rabbit-darting eyes and willowy body that made Zelda's finger twitch restlessly with a lewd sapphic urge. Instinctively, she sensed Sonia had never had sex with another woman and that she would respond to Zelda's loving masturbation and, two, that she had never had it in the rectum. That made Zelda smirk.
Zelda had long ago discovered that a certain type of girl loved to be finger fucked by a woman, and Sonia Greenley fell into that category hook, line and sinker. The frustrated type, unaware of her own suppressed impulses. The nervousness was there, despite the brash facade; this woman would wince in repulsion if forced to actually suck another woman's wetly seeping pussy. The wealthy woman possessed an uncanny intelligence for ferreting out another person's hidden sexual fears and hang-ups. Sonia's intentions reeked; she was a greedy social climber trying to advance her husband's career and get a few favors on the side for herself.
In spite of her dread and horror diseasing her mind and body, Cindy couldn't stifle her curiosity for long, and she watched the two couples undressing, feeling her heart hammer against her ribs with fear. But the stunning blonde looming over her fascinated and terrified her the most, and as Zelda stripped, exposing her sun bronzed breasts and voluptuous nakedness, the trembling virgin quivered with searing shame at the thought of having a woman touch and caress her. That would be like having her mother playing with her vagina, and that repulsive idea made Cindy gag. How one woman could thrill another at sex was beyond her. The mere idea of begging to plant her lips on Zelda's vagina-she could clearly see her moist pinkly swollen pussy lips up between her full parted thighs-made the mortified girl want to die with shame.
And as Cindy eyed the others fearfully, seeing Paul's tree trunk penis and bloated testicles and Guy's purple veined penis, its purplish tip oozing an obscene trickle, Cindy prayed she would faint before she was forced to touch any of their naked bodies. To think she'd been saved from one drastic fate only to be put on a sacrificial platter to be devoured by this pagan witch made her want to burst in anguish. The suspense was jolting her raw nerves, sanding the synapses electrically, as Zelda towered above her, her sensuously twisted mouth smiling crookedly, her fingertips stroking her own full breasts as she ravished Cindy's nakedness with her gimlet eyes.
"Hhhhhaaahhh . . . " Cindy stiffened as Zelda suddenly knelt down between her legs that suddenly went to jelly. The wild-eyed blonde leaned forward and a second later, Cindy groaned in humiliation as Zelda's hot bare flesh mashed down on hers and her fiery lizardy tongue slithered into the squirming blonde's mouth. "Mmmmmmffff. . . " Cindy tried to wrench her face away, but Zelda gripped the girl's cheeks in the steely clutch of her wiry fingers and snaked her wet tongue around Cindy's retreating one while grinding her moist pussy flesh against the shamed virgin's pouty pussy lips and twining her shapely legs around Cindy's tied ones.
Oh, God, make her stop! The nineteen year old had tolerated being French kissed by boys, but never by a woman and never with the mashing weight of soft hot breasts crushing hers. Their puffy nipples rubbed together and a lewd ripple of something devilish quivered through Cindy's body as Zelda feverishly ground her desire sopped cunt hairs against the brunette's helpless cunt and swirled her tongue around Cindy's pearly teeth.
Cindy moaned a pleading protest in her throat, fighting the effects of Zelda's champagne saliva, but that soft wail only incited Zelda. The first sign of surrender . . . how well she recognized it! Purring, Zelda sucked on her victim's full lower lip as if to devour it, sending hushed tingles of unholy desire ricocheting throughout Cindy's tied-down body, bee-lining for her vagina.
"God, I wish I could fuck you like a man!" Paul's wife panted throatily as she writhed her belly hotly against Cindy's and slid her hands down to cup the brunette's succulent breasts, squeezing and stroking the soft flesh as she flicked her wet tongue maddeningly into Cindy's ear, then blew into it. A second shudder of guilt-ridden pleasure rippled through the sobbing virgin's rope bound body, and she shut her eyes and concentrated on the red mist of fear behind her flickering eyelids.
The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire. Cindy's mind whirled in chaos as Zelda tweaked her captive's nipple buds and showered her soft throat with warm wet kisses, edging suspiciously down Cindy's tanned flesh until, to her shock and horror, Cindy realized she was awakening to the sensuality of the naked blonde's grinding body weighted down on hers, at the swollen heat of Zelda's breasts and the moist burning pressure of her milk soaked vagina jerking spasmodically on Cindy's out-stretched thigh. This indignity could not happen to her! Not to Cindy Weinstein! What had she ever done to deserve this, she wondered bitterly.
Her shame darkened at the knowledge that three other people were gaping, waiting for her first submissive response at being mauled by another woman old enough to be her mother. Still, Cindy couldn't pull the plug on the electrical sparks of lust that charged through her body with heated ferocity. That a woman's naked flesh could be so warm and sensual as it crushed down upon hers seemed impossible, and never had she dreamed that another woman's vagina could create such ticklish friction as it rubbed across her clitoris. And hot kisses shamelessly showered over her throat running over the soft trail were Jed had . . . Jed! Dear Lord, she'd nearly forgotten about him!
"Get off of me.. . you lesbian!" spat Cindy, wrenching her face away and sobbing pathetically.
"Oh, ho, our little virgin is getting defensive," smirked Zelda, lifting her head from where her pouty lips had wrapped around Cindy's left nipple, taking it between her front teeth and nibbling deliciously.
Jed . . . that night.. . before the bear . . . she had wanted sex with him more than anything in the world, just for the sake of curiosity, and to prove her mother wrong. Now that she was trapped with four perverted adults who prided themselves on their lewdity, those goals were buried in the name of chastity. In the past, with Jed, she'd let herself be aroused, then clamped the lid of virtue down at the last minute when her mind's eye reeled back fourteen years to stare gaggingly at her mother's mangled leg. "Worse than the time I broke my leg and they id to give me morphine." Now, as Zelda sucked and tongued Cindy's desire-swollen nipples, burrowing her heavy breasts into the girl's soft stomach and scraping her steaming pussy against Cindy's thigh, Mama's voice came through loud and clear. The moans of rising lust died in her throat and she gnashed her teeth, resisting the crying urge to arch her naked body and thrust more of her throbbing breasts into the blonde's mouth. An acute stab of shame followed the soft wet trickle of moisture in her dilating pussy slit as her body could not cut off what her mind could.
When Zelda suddenly grunted and bit into Cindy's rosebud nipple, the girl's defenses crumbled in a whimper of pleasure-pain that drew into a hiss as the ravenous vixen slithered her warm velvety tongue down into the creamy valley of Cindy's heaving breasts and across to its twin which she sucked noisily.
The outcome was inevitable, no mystery to Cindy as Zelda eased down on her spread-eagled nakedness inch by silken inch, sucking and biting like a lust-crazed rodent, her deft fingers stroking and pinching Cindy's milky orbs and dipping, on occasion, into the winking eye of her navel. All the fear and shame the trapped virgin felt now clashed furiously with the swiftly spreading fire in her blood. The forested nest of her vagina was consumed with the crackling blaze of awakening sensuality.
She's. . . she's going to lick me down there! Cindy thought with a strange blend of horror and breathless anticipation. It's all hot and wet. . . and ugh.. . sticky, but she's going to put her tongue in my hole-and oh, forgive me, Mama, but I want her to! I feel like I'm on fire. I've got to control myself! The softly weeping brunette's face was a mask of shame as Zelda's beguiling lips and tongue left her shivering and goose bumping. Into her navel, flicked the hot tongue, goring into the silken flesh, teasing, taunting, tempting.
Cindy Weinstein was trapped, the sacrificial center of attraction in an impending orgy with four adults who lived for the obscene tricks normal people with healthy libidos found too disgusting to even read about. Coyly teasing a boy in the back seat of his daddy's Chevy was a game she'd grown master at. But this game followed no set rules, except those spontaneously conjured up in Zelda Comstock's twisted mind and nothing coy indeed in the hot, lustful kisses being planted on the virgin's belly flesh and nothing playful in the tense, excited faces hovering over the two women on the bear skin rug, eagerly drinking in every detail of Zelda's practiced rape.
"I'll have you begging yet, angel titties," murmured Zelda, the exotic oil on her body making Cindy's nostrils flare.
"Never! Lesbian!" snapped the virgin, then trembling from head to toe as Zelda kneeled low between Cindy's widespread thighs and showered kisses on the creamy flesh of her sensitive inner thighs, inches below her glistening young pussy. Then the mouth lifted and warm steamy breath exhaled onto her swollen pussy lips, making them flower open. Cindy opened one chocolate eye to steal a peek, feeling a shocking gust of fierce excitement at the sight of the beautiful woman's lush red mouth poised a few inches below her hair-fringed vagina. Like an aristocrat about to feast herself to the point of gluttony . . . thought Cindy.
Above her, hushed whispers hinted at her crumbling fate and Cindy's body twitched suspensefully as the blonde's mouth smeared glossy red, opened and hovered close to her warmly perfumed cunt. "Unnggghhgg.. . " Hands, impatient ones, were gripping her rounded asscheeks, raising the girl's pubic mound to within a quarter inch of her full parted lips. Zelda's succulent lips brushed over the fine black curls teasingly.
Had Cindy suspected the agony in store for her at that moment, she would have gladly offered to commit every perversion known to man. . .
Up between the coed's forced-apart thighs, Zelda paused to savor the girl's burning anticipation and fill her own nostrils with the virgin's hot fragrance. Zelda could smell virgins, it was true. She prided herself on her artistic oral jobs, and now, in heated suspense, she plotted her every move. She would arouse this virgin to hysteria, suck her cunt until her clitoris was the size of a marble, stick her tongue inside those clasping cuntal walls sipping up their milk. But because Cindy's lush pink cunt smelled so sweet and looked so ripely succulent, peeping through the black veil of curls, the insatiable blonde knew she must control her impulses.
Under no circumstances would Zelda allow Cindy to have an orgasm . . . not until the rebellious girl was reduced to a groveling sex slave.
For half a minute she'd been blowing hot air across Cindy's naked cuntal crease, wafting the black silken tendrils. When she finished, Cindy Weinstein would journey through life with Zelda Comstock's lewd brand of sex seared on her mind and body. . . the scarlet letter of lust. How many naive creatures like this silken-bodied virgin were sexual carbon copies of herself once she and Paul had finished with them? Oh, what a tribute to immortality!
Since Zelda had lost her baby years back, sexual immortality had become a conflagrating compulsion, and she felt a strange vampirical fulfillment each time she sucked the honeyed juices from a vibrant teen-ager's vagina as though she could transfuse her young victim's loveliness and sex appeal into her own aging process.
Blood singing in her ears, Zelda dug her painted talons into Cindy's trembling ass-cheeks until the tanned flesh oozed between her spread fingers.
"Aaaahhhhhh!"
Zelda clamped her hot mouth to the squirming, tasty cunt, lashing deep into the burning pussy hole, sensing currents of bliss shudder through her wicked body as the girl's luscious pussy pulsed, flowering open involuntarily.
"Mmmmmm . . . baby, you taste wonderful!" Then she went back to her greedy lapping, flicking her long tongue deep into the fiery hole and burrowing her aristocrat nose tightly into Cindy's pussy hairs, her eyes gleaming on the younger girl's panting white breasts above her bobbing head, her taste buds relishing the sweet trickle of hot cuntal juice, her feverish mind comparing the taste and texture of this virgin pussy with a dozen others she had savored over the years.
Ah, heaven! The sex-crazed woman clamped the girl's swelling clitoris between her lips and vibrated her tongue against its nubby flesh, feeling Cindy's trembling ass-cheeks quiver madly. So the little bitch was playing tough, huh? thought Zelda, listening for a whimper, a sigh, a groan and hearing none. Fine . . . she would suck and nibble on Cindy's oily clit until the little bitch squealed for more.
Slouched in a leather chair with a glass of champagne in his hand and his cock throbbing with lust, Paul Comstock watched the X-rated spectacle with husbandly pride and a good deal of masculine impatience. Not even Circe herself could prime an innocent girl as well as his Zelda could, and it always made his gonads ache to see his beautiful-bodied wife blow a little girl's mind with her famed blow jobs. Hell, it was almost poetic, he mused, watching over the crystal rim of his cooled glass, seeing two beautiful females having sex together.
Not bothering with social graces, he kept his eyes glued on the pagan feast taking place on the bear skin rug and reached out to grab Sonia Greenley's slender waist. In a burst of shrill giggles she landed with a fleshy smack on his naked legs, her buttocks flattening. A dribble of cold champagne dribbled down onto Paul's aching testicles and he slid his middle finger down through the milk-moistened curls of her cunt to gouge in between her fleshy cuntal lips. Delighted with his attention, Sonia cast a rejecting glance at her husband, her perky nose twitching haughtily at him.
Jesus, I hate gigglers, thought Paul, his cheek muscle twitching from the pure thrill of it. He'd love to shove his prick between her pouty lips to shut her up . . . but no, not until Zelda gave permission.
"Ohh," Sonia wriggled her shoulders in a naked tease. "I'm getting sooo hot watching your wife eat her pussy I could cum right now!"
Paul stifled the urge to tell this haughty little bitch what he thought of her cheap senseless talk. He'd met this type before . . . the hysterical female who used the right words in the right company, as if she expected that to turn him on. Huh! What a joke. In fact, he would have bounced her ass off his lap had it not been for her soft fingers grasping his blood-heavy cock, stroking its hot girth while she ground her pussy with low moans against his rubbing hand. Next, she would be asking him for it. The impatient, greedy type, he pegged her, the type of person who at a buffet would load her plate without regard to other's hunger. It amused him when she flipped her dark hair over her naked shoulders and cooed down at him:
"Oh, Paulie, fuck me now. I love big pricks like yours . . . I'll give you a blow-job first!"
Selfish cunt! Had to have her pussy filled so everyone could fuss over her and distract the attention from the chaste little virgin spread-eagled on Paul's living room floor.
"Sorry, chick. Not yet." Paul murmured as he ran his fingertip down over the creamy crevice of her soft buttocks and found her rubbery little anus. He pressed hard and when Sonia cringed away in obvious fear, Paul grinned, still watching raptly the teen-ager groaning on the fur rug as she weaved her head from side to side and bit her lip to silence her cries. He could tell Cindy was desperately trying not to show how she delighted in Zelda's tongue-fucking, but he knew the Virgin Mary herself could not hold out fifteen minutes beneath his wife's wickedly practiced tongue.
And he wanted that cherry! He tolerated the dark-haired housewife jerking at his blood-engorged cock in her soft hand while he teased her warm anal ring with his fingertip, trying to decide whether Zelda would play this game to the hilt. Never would he stifle his wife's pleasures in mid-game. No, she'd brought him more turned-around, lust-crazed young girls than he could count and he wanted to ram his thick blood-swelling cock right up to that little Jewish princess' cunt!
Enviously, Sonia's shallow rabbit-like eyes followed the direction of Paul's hungry undistracted gaze, and with disappointed frustration, she twitched impatiently on his lap, grinding her soft buttocks into the thews of his muscular thigh.
"Come on, fuck me, please . . . " she whispered huskily into his ear, stroking his rigid penis faster with her deft fingers, and watching with malicious satisfaction her husband's face flush only two yards away. She'd had a grueling time trying to talk the stodgy man into a week-long swapping party, and now she wanted to see him squirm, the lily-livered bastard! Teasingly, Sonia moaned as she stroked her husband's consultant's hot rubbery shaft in her fingers, feeling her loins seething as his cock swelled larger and harder.
"Ohhhhh, your prick's so big, Paulie, darling," she purred, pooching out her reddened lips and fluttering her false eyelashes over her high cheekbones. "Shove that hot cock in my cunt, baby," she pleaded, loud enough for her husband to hear.
"Sorry, baby . . . not time yet." The lean, frost-templed millionaire smiled amusedly, watching his own wife suck the rope-bound virgin's thighs, her tanned asscheeks wriggling with her exertion. Hell, Sonia could jerk his cock all night and he wouldn't cum unless he wanted to. His remarkable control over his ejaculations was the reward of years of regular wife-swapping. Sure, he wanted to fuck Sonia-he'd screw any female who wanted his cock. And she would be a human dynamo under him . . . if only to prove to her husband that another man could make her cum quicker than he could. But not yet. Oh, Jesus, Zelda was right.. . the Greenleys were crashing bores. He would fuck her in due time, but now he wanted to wait a few more minutes to see if Zelda could do her stuff with this girl's tender cunt. If she succeeded, then didn't want to go through the prolonged ritual or oral torment, then Paul wanted to save his first load for the Jewish cherry.
People like Sonia Greenley made him laugh. Sure, she was playing her own teasing game with her whimpering husband, trying to rile him so that he would be provoked into raping her. And if anyone needed a rape-preferably in her ripe little ass, Paul thought as he squeezed the soft fleshy mounds-it was this small-breasted, socially ruthless, little bitch.
"Ahhhhh . . . mmmm . . . unggghhh!"
Suddenly, all six eyes of the naked watchers focused on the twitching virgin below, the orange flames flickering over her shimmering body as the first long, keening moan escaped her clamped lips and her back arched up off the rug in a high curve of desire. The tip of her tongue peeked out to wet her lips which moved speechlessly, and then she sobbed in a barely audible whisper:
"Never . . . never . . . never!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jed dug the end of his whittled cane deep into the gravel bed of the rippling mountain stream and hobbled from one moss-slippery rock to the next, each step shooting knife-blade pains from the swollen knob of his knee down to the ball of his blistered foot and back up his hard-muscled thigh. The double load burdening his shoulders laid excruciating pressure on his cub-mauled back on this, the second day of wandering aimlessly in the woods trying to find evidence of Cindy.
Cindy.. . oh God! He ached every time the name popped into his brain.
He shaded his sunburned forehead with the side of his hand and squinted dizzily into the distance where the trees opened onto what resembled.. . oh, Jesus, could it be.. . a trail! Hallelujah! With quicker steps he scrambled up the river bank, the shale crumbling under his hiking boots.
* * *
Everyone was on their second bottle of dry French champagne when Zelda's velvety tongue rammed straight for Cindy's tight cuntal depths with a hot flicking motion that made the nineteen-year-old sink her nails into her palms and bite her lip to keep from wailing as the explosive thrill shattered her virginal flesh. Like a maddening whip of pleasure that snaking tongue wriggled and probed deep in her sensitive pussy flesh, sending blissful jolts of hellish lust erupting along its path. Scalding tears of shame filled Cindy's closed eyes as she squirmed and writhed in desperate passion under Zelda's expert oral attack.
Cindy had steeled herself for a shock, but not for the fiery wet thrills that Zelda's tongue sparked inside her virginal cunt as it lapped and stung her burning flesh in electrifying sparks, sucking at her cuntal mouth as if it were a succulent shellfish. Nobody, not even her frigid mother could tolerate this teasing, thought Cindy as her body slowly succumbed to the wild licking and sucking.
Oh, God! Cindy pulled against the ropes burning into her ankles and wrists, trying to raise her legs high and lock her thighs around the blonde tormentor's face and lunge her bliss-torn pussy into Zelda's hungry mouth. Her fingers itched to reach down and pull her female rapist's head into the hairy mouth between her legs, as the first tickle of an orgasm began to numb her loins, fingertips and toes. But no . . . once she surrendered mentally as well as physically, she would be as perverted as the groaning woman devouring her hot pussy and pinching and squeezing Cindy's nakedly quivering asscheeks until red fingermarks blemished their whiteness.
Maybe she couldn't scream, but she could peek at Zelda's bobbing blonde head down between the sinewy cords of her wide-stretched thighs, and the bronzed asscheeks wriggling high behind grinding in rhythm to Zelda's maddened cunt-sucking. Cindy sucked in her breath and closed her eyes; the sight of another naked woman hunched beneath her black pussy curls was so shocking and disgusting-yet so hellishly exciting-the flushed nineteen-year-old wondered if the bear had killed her and this was her purgatory . . . or whatever the Gentiles believed in.
"Huuugggh!" Oh God! Cindy suddenly saw sparks behind her eyelids as Zelda's teeth nibbled at the oily marble of her clitoris, then sucked that magic button until it was all the wildly panting girl could do to keep from shrieking with hysterical excitement.
Jed never made me feel like this.. .oh, I'm getting as bad as she is!
Every nerve in Cindy's shuddering body ached to slam her ravaged young thighs smashing into Zelda's beautiful face. Her fingertips were tingling with tiny shocks of orgasmic joy. The ache spread like a contagious disease from her hotly tormented pussy flesh down to her trembling legs and upward to the hard strawberry tips of her nipples, but the delirious virgin clung savagely to her pride and determination, resorting to thoughts of her mother's warnings about sex when she feared she might lose control and scream out her lust.
You warned me about men, Mama.. . but you said nothing about females!
She withered inside, imagining her mother's horror if she could see her youngest daughter tied up like this, her naked young body roped to the furniture, squirming and squealing as a woman tongue fucked the virgin pussy too precious for even dear Jed to touch. She gritted her teeth and vowed not to surrender to these perverts despite . . . Oh, God, what's she doing down there now? . . . what they did to her. Perspiration popped out on Cindy's silken forehead from the effort of holding in her screams.
Maybe if she concentrated on the evil of these people ogling down at her raped body she could rouse enough hatred for them to feel nothing. But as her brown eyes swung toward them, her lust began to spread in new directions with involuntary fury. Paul Comstock was playing with the timid sandy-haired man's wife, his thick fingers gouging into her cunt while she pawed at his genitals and lunged her pussy mound against his open hand. Her small, taut-nippled breasts were panting impatiently and Cindy could see, even in the shadowed firelight, the purple veins throb on Paul's stalk of man-flesh. It was all so garishly obscene, with Sonia's naked husband standing just a few feet away from them, with his own lust-bloated erection quivering above his dangling scrotum, that the sight of the three of them primed for sex spurred Cindy's seething lust to boiling degrees. It was inevitable: both men would rape her, stick their filthy fingers into her vagina and . . . yes, even the smoldering-eyed housewife was watching
Cindy with a hungry expression.
Zelda went about her task furiously. So the little bitch is too stubborn to scream, huh? Zelda gave it her all, darting her hot tongue in and out of the brunette's slippery cuntal hole so fast it felt like a battery-run dildo, and Cindy felt her tenuous control stagger and reel like a drunk on an uphill journey. Explosive barbs of eroticism raced through her boiling blood and forced her to bite her lip so brutally she tasted her own blood. Her black curls thrashed from side to side while tears of shame and defeat ran down her cheeks to dampen the bear skin rug, her soft nakedness covered in a sheet of fiery sensual chills, and her asscheeks grinding in bliss as Zelda whipped her tongue up into the frothy hole, sparking the virgin's first raging climax of the evening.
"Ohhhhh . . . nngghhhh . . . " Cindy arched her body in a bow-shaped curve, pulling at the taut ropes, fighting the rising wail of ecstasy in her throat. Her goose-bumped breasts quivered in the air, streaked with the hot orange flames that made the fine veil of sweat shimmer on her body, and her madly milking young vagina spasmed, the muscles tightening then relaxing, trying to draw Zelda's tongue out by the roots. Beneath her, Zelda's long painted fingernails dug cruelly into her flesh, scraping the skin.
Cindy gritted her teeth so hard her nose began to run, but still a dim high-pitched moan echoed in the fire-lit cabin as the knot of pent-up, excruciating excitement in her belly began to burst and the realization that it was her own voice gave the girl a final gust of resistance and pride.
"Never-never-never!" The last word was screamed as Cindy gasped, trying to ignore the frothing wave of lust eating away at her insides.
At that moment Zelda jerked her mouth away and sat up, smirking as she ran her tongue over her juicy lips, her breasts heaving, her cheeks wet with Cindy's unstoppable cuntal secretions. Oh, no! Why did she stop? Cindy stiffened in anguish and her chocolate eyes, glazed in lust, flew open to stare challengingly at the tormentor. Oh, God . . . I'm going crazy . . . it itches down there.. . I'm dimming, oh please, please, my pussy s on fire!! !
Mute as the day she was born, Cindy whimpered agonizingly, and in spite of the savage throb in her virginal passage, she felt a wild rush of pride at her startling victory. No begging . . . not aloud, anyway. Yes, she told herself, jaw set determinedly, they couldn't win her over.
And then as Cindy stared into Zelda Comstock's mocking eyes, the innocent suddenly realized with a stab of horror, that this cruel trick was only the prologue, a mere foreshadowing of what was yet to come. The red cloud of panic and the black cloud of doom that welled up in the shattered girl's clammy, trembling body couldn't compete with the seething, torturous ache that had left her on the verge of hysteria.
I won't beg for it, I won't! Oh, Jed.. . why aren't you ever there to help me?! Yes, she had been left on the brink before . . .
But something in the grinning blonde's wet-lipped expression suggested that Cindy might eat her own words before the night was out. Shivering, she watched as Zelda wiped the virgin milk from her cheeks with her painted fingertips and licked them afterwards.
"Oh, darling," she said, holding out her middle finger threaded with female juices. "I wouldn't want to be greedy. Here, angel titties, taste yourself."
Cindy's eyes saucered in revulsion as the woman got down on her haunches and smeared the pungent liquid on her victim's tautly drawn-in lips.
The taste of defeat tainted Cindy Weinstein's lips.. .
"Somebody get our princess something to drink," Zelda ordered the other three as she climbed over Cindy's tied legs and lay stomach-down facing the tense and frustrated brunette on the bear skin rug. The full sensual outline of her glistening lips curved in a teasing grin and she leaned on her elbow, freeing the other hand to rub Cindy's cuntal juices from between her goose-bumped legs upward over her cream-white belly.
"All frothed up down there, aren't you doll?" whispered Zelda throatily, tormenting the shivering girl as her fingers slid down to rub Cindy's swollen pussy lips. Cold-bloodedly aware of its teeth-chattering effects, she spread the copious juices up and around her clitoris to make the girl moan and suck in her breath. "Your cunt is so delicious, sweetheart, it's a shame to let Paul ram that monster of his into your cherry," purred Zelda. "But I think you'd love it.. . and that's why he won't-not yet"
Cindy sobbed, feeling a strange wave of relief mingled with disappointment ripple through her inflamed body. Frustration seethed in her blood and raged in her genitals in white hot flames, and it was obvious that the diabolical blonde who now dallied and teased at her pulsating erogenous zones wasn't going to let the pressure ease for a second. Zelda supported Cindy's head and shoved a glassful of champagne to her parched and bleeding lips and the girl drank it thirstily, wincing as the liquor stung her empty belly. A moment later her tanned flesh flushed with heat and she cringed as her body began to hum with electrical tension as the champagne weakened her defenses.
"Wrists getting sore, baby? Want me to untie you now?" Zelda murmured, pinching Cindy's swollen left nipple between her forefinger and thumb to add to the agony.
"Yes . . . " Cindy hissed, turning to stare into Zelda's shining dark eyes, believing her.
"Then beg," chuckled Zelda, tweaking the girl's inflamed breast cruelly in her hand. "Swear that you'll eat my pussy and then Sonia's, and then put your hot little mouth on my husband's cock and suck him dry before you blow Sonia's husband. Promise me that, Sugar, and I'll untie the ropes."
"Never!" The nineteen-year-old's face turned beet-red with shame and fresh tears brimmed over in her glazed eyes. "Do all the horrible things you want to me, you . . . you perverts, but I'll never beg."
"Ah, innocence is so touching," the blonde sighed with mockery, smoothing her hand down beneath Cindy's softly curved buttocks and probing in between the damp crevice.
The rope-bound virgin gasped and whimpered as a sharp fingernail thrust into her tight elastic anus and wriggled lewdly inside. She simmered with new humiliation at this depraved intrusion, but each time Zelda jerked her extended finger, Cindy flexed her asscheeks in pain, tightening the pressure around the finger, goring it that much deeper.
Zelda glanced smolderingly over at her handsome husband who stared fixedly down at the ripe-bodied brunette, his hand rubbing frantically at Sonia's pussy while the overanxious swapper mewled and toyed with his penis. Paul wanted Cindy's cherry, and Zelda had no intentions of disappointing him, but first she wanted this girl's body buzzing as if she'd swallowed ten Spanish flies . . . and that meant her husband would have to wait.
"Sonia, darling, why don't you show Cindy the proper way to give a blow-job? On my husband, of course. Paul's carrying quite a load there, and I know you'll love the taste." Zelda cocked an eyebrow in Guy's direction; a red aura of envy radiated from him.
Oh God, Cindy wondered as she listened in horror. How could people be so warped and unashamed? Cindy stiffened and a hot bolt of pain scorched her brain as she realized that Zelda's purpose wasn't just to crush Cindy's spirit and create a sex-slave for her entertainment-the lust-infected woman wanted to reduce Cindy to her own sewer-level of moral turpitude. Wanted to beat her down into a pithy pulp of lust and create a baby doll replica of corruption, an insatiable, macabre animal like herself. Never.. . !
"What about me?" Guy spoke up indignantly from his corner. Just to look at his hang-dog look, one might have expected to see a dunce cap on his head. His pale blue eyes raked over Cindy's soft, defenseless curves, eating her up with his eyes. "Who do I get?"
Insipid bastard, thought Zelda. "Come on down here with us if you can't stand to be alone," grinned Zelda. "After Cindy watches your wife go down on my husband, maybe she'll have learned enough to give your prick a good suck and maybe that will take the frown off your face, Guy."
Sonia, hearing those words, lifted her head from Paul's shoulder and glowered quizzically at the naked blonde on the floor, trying to decipher the meaning of her crisp intonations and, finding it too difficult a task for her lust-obsessed mind, grabbed harder onto Paul's cock and stroked it possessively.
Zelda's fescinnine words brought a faint mewl of agony from Cindy's lips and she tugged futilely at the thick ropes binding her aching wrists and ankles. The blonde persecutor threw her head back and laughed at the virgin's helplessness, then pooched out her lips and slavered her tongue around Cindy's sensitive armpit and widely spaced milky breasts, watching the girl gasp and twitch with involuntary delight as the titillating sensations shivered through her soft body. Power-driven adrenaline charged through Zelda's electrified body.
Eagerly, Guy clambered down on all fours on the other side of the spread eagled innocent, his champagne and cigarette breath rasping on her fear contorted face as he kneaded the succulent flesh of her right breast in his big thick fingers. Walled in by hot naked flesh, her smooth thighs crushed between the older blonde's soft wet pussy and Guy's stiffly throbbing penis, her squirming ass cheeks still impaled by Zelda's lewdly gorging finger.
But through a haze of tears Cindy couldn't avoid peeking at Guy's slender kittenish wife kneeling nakedly before Paul's blood leaded cock and lovingly caressing it in her fingers, her succulent lips parted and ready.
Sonia's eagerness rode the red line of limits. "You don't really have to cum in my mouth do you?" she whispered up at the leering man whose he-man looks made her feel every bit the weaker sex. "Can't you cum in her mouth?" she implored, gesturing at Cindy who gagged mentally at the thought of being choked with a salty flood of burning semen.
Paul ground his jaws together. You dumb bitch, he thought, don't be stupid enough to think you've got the guts to call the shots around here.. . "Suck it," he ordered sternly. "Swallow it baby, every juicy drop. I admire nerve. If you want your husband to get a-head in my business, you'd better make this the wildest blow job of your life. Now suck!"
Almost at once Sonia gulped half the burning length of his glistening cock deep into her throat and smoothly slid her tautly ovaled lips back and forth on its blue veined shaft. Gurgling sounds rumbled from her throat as with smooth pumping jerks of her fingers, she stroked the hairy base of his pounding cock, her dark head bobbing and weaving in time to her noisy sucking. Paul groaned and cupped her soft head in his strong hands, lunging his pelvis in time to her burning lips, sucking in his breath as the sex hungry kitten whirled her tongue around the oozing slit for a minute and cupped his hairy, sperm heavy testicles with her delicate palm.
"Not bad," muttered Paul flatly, grinding in his jaws together and crushing her face closer into his pungent smelling loins to cram another two inches down her gagging throat. The bitch's got talent in that mouth, he thought as she devoured his cock, wiggling her head from side to side to give his cock a nibbling series of thrills and then pumping up and down to vary his pleasure. Paul's upper lip curled contemptuously and he fucked harder into her face, grinding her nose flat, and glanced down with sadistic pleasure at the paling husband who watched mutely from the rug. The man's sycophantic attitude and Sonia's too-deliberate moves disgusted him, but Zelda would have been hell to get along with for a week without her sex games.
"Harder . . . suck harder!" snapped Paul, and the groveling brunette mumbled acquiescently around her mouthful of meat, whipping her head back and forth on his turgid hot flesh as if her mouth were run on batteries, making him grit his teeth, despite his forced ambivalence towards her. Sonia nibbled at the tip, then relaxed her throat and tried to swallow the bloated tip of his seeping cock.
"Aaaahhhhh!" Paul sucked in hissingly, his head thrown back, his powerful hands holding her head in so tight a vice it appeared he might screw it right off. The slight paunch of his stomach flattened as he held his breath and then let it out in a throaty gust while he slammed his penis down her throat, scraping past her tonsils, making her cry in muffled delight as his massive rubbery tip battered her insides, her nose crushed to his pubic hair with each of his savage pelvic lunges.
Sonia was no match for his own wife at cock sucking, but she was doing her damndest, and Paul had to admire that. Urgently, her soft hands squeezed his hairy balls and milked the trunk of his lust inflamed penis in perfect rhythm to her determined sucking. Paul could feel his sperm gather forces down in the hairy fortress of his testicles, making ready for the parachute flight down the hot fleshy tube to be dumped in Sonia Greenley's hotly sucking mouth.
From her floor level vantage point, Cindy Weinstein watched with horrified fascination Paul Comstock's crimson, slippery cock plumbing in and out of Sonia's mouth. He's using her mouth . . . like a vagina! And she likes it! She felt her own lips pucker at the imagined salty, sticky texture of life fluid. God, how vile! How nauseating!
Cindy's pupils were black pools of fear at the speculation that this witchy woman laying beside her pinching her nipples might sense her fear and sadistically order her to let Paul rape her mouth in the same savage manner. Elephant tears glazed her eyes in utter helplessness. Sure enough, Zelda's sixth sense picked up that loathsome thought and reached down to tease her sharp teeth over the terrified brunette's left nipple and simultaneously wedged her outstretched finger deeper into Cindy's tightly constricted anus, making the girl yelp with sudden pain. Now the slightest movement of Cindy's ass cheeks sent barbs of anguish rushing through her anal passage, but even in her horror she couldn't rake her eyes off the obscene scenario taking place a few feet away.
Beside her, Guy crudely squeezed Cindy's right breast and dug his throbbing, jabbing cock tip into the tender flesh of her hip, he too, watching his prideless, groveling wife gurgle and moan as she sucked ravenously on Paul's blood heavy penis. Sonia's flushed cheeks hollowed with her exertion, her small round breasts panting in eagerness for praise.
The cunt never got that hot with me . . . Guy Greenley's insides stung with the impact. He hoped Paul Comstock would shove his cock into Sonia's naked ass cheeks before the week was out. And although he seethed with envy, he knew he didn't dare betray it in front of his wealthy, sophisticated usher into the high echelons of the stock market business. God.. . he wanted Sonia to watch when he rammed his own swollen cock shaft deep into the delectable virgin's pink mouth . . .
Not far away, Sonia was intently, deliciously, victoriously, aware of her husband's watching eyes. The weak-kneed nothing of a man, maybe he could learn a few lessons from the one hundred percent male pounding into her mouth! The excitement she only pretended at first was now very real as the pulsating mass of male flesh quivered deep in her throat and vibrated wildly in her stroking fist. God, she thought lustfully, if only Guy had a prick like this! Guy never got this hard, this long! Its virile power almost choked her each time Paul rammed his hips forward, and the soft cushiony feel of his sperm inflated testicles in the palm of her hand both thrilled the frustrated housewife and repulsed her . . . she was expected to swallow all the thick hot cum they would explode. Ugh. . . !
Never had she allowed Guy to cum in her mouth-had always crammed his bursting cock deep into her pussy at the last throbbing second. Her stomach bubbled at the expectant salty liquid, but as repulsive as the spermy feast was to Sonia, she knew there would be hell to pay if she defied Paul Comstock. She'd been looking for a virile, wealthy male to mistress, and he was the perfect candidate!
Now as the battering hunk of seeping male flesh tore deep into her mouth, quivering explosively, the scheming young brunette closed her eyes and held her breath, praying she wouldn't gag or regurgitate on Paul Comstock's cock and ruin everything! The restless twitching in her own neglected pussy reminded her that sooner or later she would feel his lust quenching hardness worming, gorging, hammering deep between her legs, and that promise persuaded her to suck him harder and squeeze his balls to encourage his orgasm.
Paul's face went tight with lust. "EAT IT!" he bellowed, mashing her nose cruelly against his pelvic bone, feeling it grind hideously in the ticklish hairs. His broad muscles chest heaved as his climax shattered in his loins and burst from his testicles to spurt down the erected tube of his penis in convulsive gushes into Sonia's eagerly sucking mouth.
Trembling wildly as she knelt before him, the nauseated wife thought she would strangle for a moment as the boiling torrents of salty sperm spewed in a thick, sticky flood into her tingling throat. In desperate, rapid swallows, she gulped, whimpering as the sticky fluid slid down her throat and as the deflating tube in her mouth kept spurting its searing load, Sonia moaned in relief. The champagne had dulled her taste buds somewhat and the alcohol and sperm dinner sis seem to sit well in her stomach even though the thought of what she had done was nauseating.
Now that it was over panting for breath, Sonia eased her mouth away from his softened, wormy cock and smiled tremulously up at Paul who gave her what she hoped was a look of appreciation.
"Was I too much for you?" he asked, smirking.
Sonia demurely swiped at her nose and mouth, glistening with threads of his sperm. "Heavens, don't be silly," she snickered. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What made you ask that?"
"Better go wash up," Paul retorted with smug amusement. "You've got a bloody nose."
"A . . . what?" Face crimson with mortification, Sonia felt laughing eyes goring into her. Wiping her nose, her hand came away bloody and she darted for the bathroom, unconsciously sharing Cindy's humiliation. Powerless to usurp a grain of Zelda's supernatural power, powerless to resist the virile appeal of the frost-templed financial wizard whom she would slaughter her own husband to please . . .
CHAPTER NINE
Polka-dotted fly specks dulled the naked fifty watt light bulb dangling from the rafters in Jack's hay loft where he lay stretched out on the single bed, listening to his old friend, the night wind, whipping around the weathered hay barn. His rheumatism didn't pain him much tonight, thanks to the bottle of whiskey Louise, the Indian maid, had smuggled out of the Comstock's well stocked liquor cabinet and given to him in appreciation for driving her down to Moose last week.
Rolling to his side on the rumpled bed clothes, the old man's limpid blue eyes peered through the smudged window at the
Comstock's cabin where smoke belched like dragon's breath from the chimney, the high quarter moon bathing its darkened two stories in an unholy white glow. Strange that he felt ill at ease when the Comstocks came to the mountains . . . Their very presence gave him that run-for-your-life feeling he got when he spotted a cylindrical black cloud chewing its way down from the sky to munch up tree roots and hay barns. Mrs. Comstock was the worst; there wasn't a natural cell in her body. . . from her bleached blonde hair to her painted fingernails. People like that had no place in the peacefulness of the mountains. He took a second peek and shook his head. Not a lit window anywhere. On a June night like this they should welcome the moist, earthy smell of growing things, instead of hiding behind closed doors.
Hmmmm. . . . Jack sat up, the missing buttons creating a yawning gap in the crotch of his long legged underwear, his salt and pepper nest of pubic curls peeking out. The whiskey cut a burning trail to his stomach and he smacked his lips in satisfaction. Ahhhh.. . a leathery hand scraped across his mouth, drying it. Again he squinted through the murky glass, watching the cabin suspiciously as if he expected it to jump to life or a lit window to wink back at him. Wonder what they Ye up to. . . Hell, ain't none of your business.. .
The aged rodeo rider scratched his whiskers and lay supine down on the creaking mattress, the stretched knees of his underwear standing up like air-filled cotton bags. The whiskey lifted him to lightheaded euphoria, erasing the sting of loneliness that set in on warm spring nights like this . . . night when years back he and Mamie would be swinging on the porch swing back in Idaho planning families and him doing his darndest to plant the seeds of dreams right there on her family's front porch, while in the kitchen the slap of Mamie's ma's iron and hum of her soft voice accompanying the radio was reminder enough they weren't alone. They were courting in those days when he first started making the rodeo circuits for extra cash to buy a piece of land and make a respectable life for himself and Mamie.
Oh, she would giggle and wrinkle up her perky nose, smiling at him with her soft amber eyes . . . and his manhood would creep to life just from looking at her, making him flush with embarrassment while she turned her head and pretended not to feel it eagerly jabbing into her hip. Pretty little thing, his Mamie . . . black ringlets hugging her head, the rest of her tan and sassy.
Hell.. . the minute he rescued that young hiker his mind had been spinning in circles, reverting back to dead dreams and cracking the shell of contentment. Funny how Mamie and that girl looked so darn much alike. No wonder his gonads kicked into life that morning when she lay moaning unconsciously right here on his rumpled bed, her firm breasts rising and falling in shallow breathing.
In the raw crisscrossing beams, Jack watched a spider drop from the ceiling at End of her sticky web. Shucks . . . an old man like himself shouldn't be daydreaming about young girls, no matter if those girls were dead in the ground or alive in that house up there. He didn't even know her name, but the first glance into her innocent, helpless face churned up his masculine sense of protectiveness and regenerated in him a spirit that died the night Mamie and their newborn
Jack turned his anguished face toward the wall. Forget the past, you oV fool. . .
Limply, his arm draped over the side of the bed, his fingernails grasping the hard cold touch of glass and finding it, he raised his head for long gulping swallows. Mamie is dead.. . he told himself, but his recharged libido couldn't shove that lush-bodied hiker into the world of the deceased.
Ahhh . . . nothing like whiskey to rot the brain and kill memories.
Raising his gray head, the sentimentalist glanced dizzily down at his torso suddenly come to life and chuckled out loud, his bushy eyebrows arching in hilarity at the sight of his wrinkled, useless penis poking up like a shoot of growing crab grass from the wiry gray patch of curls. Old man, you're far from dead, he thought, moving his leathery hand down over his cotton clad chest down to the potent stalk and grasped it in a tight clutch, his heart thumping in his chest and an undeniable yearning in his testicles shedding many loveless years.
What the hell, he laughed, rummaging in the dust and dirty socks under his bed for the glossy paper of the Playboy magazines he'd salvaged from the Comstocks' dumpster. He'd saved them for starting fires in the pot-bellied Franklin stove on frosty winter mornings, but now on this warm June night they would keep him hot in bed. A little fantasy was good for the spirit. . . His cracked fingernails opened gleefully to the centerfold where a black curly-headed girl with aqua eyes winked out at him as she lay stretched out in a haystack wearing nothing but dusty hay chaff on her oiled breasts and smoothly muscled tummy. Lucky the photographer who crouched behind his tripod staring up between her spread legs to see the jewel of her thumping clitoris and the delicate petals of her pussy.
Jack sucked in his breath, surprised and strangely proud of the hot hardness of his rapidly stiffening penis. His hand pumped steadily up and down, pulling the foreskin lovingly back and forth with infinite enjoyment of the sizzling sensation romping through his loins. His sunburned eyelids drooped over his pale blue eyes glued to the luscious curves and bumps of the naked nymphet in the haystack whose long polished fingertips worked in narcissistic circles at her nipples-the way his hand was communing with his penis . . . as if they shared a secret.
Oh dear Jesus to wake up to a pretty baby-faced honey like that instead of staring at a horse's face every morning . . . ! All rationale left him in a pink mist of passion as the lonely bachelor envisioned a hot-assed girl (No . . . don't you dare say Mamie, his conscience warned. All right then, like the hiker.. climbing up the ladder to his loft, naked as the day she was born, her hair strewn with strands of hay, her pink nipples succulent strawberry tips on her white, milky breasts, puckering from the crisp morning air. Her buttocks creamy and full-swaying from side to side as she sashayed over to his bed and crawled down beside him, stretching out naked and lean. He would snuggle up to her and smother her belly with kisses, while his penis grew hard and ready for her.
Up and down his hand pumped at his blood-engorged penis, making a lewd slapping noise against his groin each time he struck downward. She would coo in his ear and roll over to straddle his hardened cock! Jack's body tensed and trembled and he bit his lip as he concentrated on how the hiker's breasts would jiggle above him. She would go wild, riding him like a bronco and he'd buck her up and down grinding his wiry pubic hair against her clitoris until her slippery pink cunt would soak his cock in hot, excited juices. Tight and velvety smooth like a colt's skin . . . and she would start cumming the minute he fucked up inside her hot little nineteen-year-old pussy. (Mamie had been twenty-two when they had married and the hiker nineteen exactly, but Jack's mind was too set on other things to realize his unconscious miscalculation and his own victory over the past.)
Mmmmmm . . . three more strokes and he would squirt right up into that wide-stretched little cunt of hers! Jack cupped his hand to the main force of his semen, and, with a grunt, executed the last stroke on his foreskin . . . the one that arched his whole cock backwards and pulled hard on the skin of the head so that it stretched painfully. The semen seethed in the heavy sac of his genitals and a sudden excruciating ache gave way to painless bliss as the showering relief spurted upward in great white gushes, his head snapping back, his mouth open in ecstasy. God, she was gorgeous! Grinding his teeth, he groaned a muted gurgle of pleasure and then lay still, breathing hard, his lungs burning.
He expected to feel the gloom of depression now that his flesh and blood fantasy floated back to two-dimensional paper, but instead a giddy sense of power and nimble agility suffused his body and he fell asleep with the light on, the magazine draped over his chest and his hand cupping the sticky flesh of his once again withered penis.
* * *
The impotence of defeat hung heavily in Jed's shamefully bowed head as he sat shivering on the ranger's army cot wrapped up in a scratchy army blanket, a bag of ice tied to his inflamed kneecap.
In the fabricated kitchenette of the Grand Teton Mountain National Park ranger station, the sound of ripping paper tore the silence as the park ranger spilled a packet of instant noodle soup into a coffee cup and poured boiling water over it, stirring it until the hard noodles softened to a palatable texture. Hiking boots clomped on the hard wood floor as Joe Barnes toted the steaming cup across the rustic room, pausing at the geological park map tacked to the wall above the desk. The pot-bellied park official squinted at the distressed youth out of the corner of his eyes and, falling into a decision-making state of mind, unconsciously pooched out his lips.
"You say you were about here when you first saw the bear, is that right?" His finger pointed to the base of the mountain.
Jed clutched the blanket tighter and muttered out a defensive "Yes . . . ", nodded his head, then let it fall slack, hating to admit his ignorance. His dirty palms hid the telltale pallor of his face from the interrogating ranger who stood studiously running his finger over the broken dotted line of the designated Grand Teton National Park trails, disdain written over his weather-wrinkled face.
"You say you weren't following a designated park trail, is that right?" Joe arched an accusing eyebrow, then shook his head derisively.
Jed did the same and let out a heavy sigh, slowly raising his head to stare ridicule in the eye. "I know . . . it was stupid of me," he muttered, then paused. ". . . I thought if I could fight my way on a college football field I sure as heck could survive without a map in the woods." The youth snickered bitterly at his defeat.
Joe Barnes stiffened. "My dear boy, it takes brains to survive the wilds . . . " The implication of this man's value judgment on football, Jed's life blood, made his blood boil, but he swallowed the insinuation and buried his face in his hands until the clomping footsteps intensified, then stopped directly in front of him. With a mild 'thanks', he accepted the cup of soup and wrinkled up his nose as the steam bit into his lips, eyeing over the cup's rim the ranger's broad behind waddling in his khaki walking shorts over to the map, hands clasped behind his back, studying it with the intensity of the supreme commander planning the Normandy Beach invasion.
"You say you found nothing.. . no sweater . . . shoe lace . . . " The paunchy man talked emphatically with his hands.
"No.. . "
"She's probably run into other campers by now. In the morning I'll contact the head ranger station and bulletins will be posted at every park exit." Joe sucked in his breath, caning the boy with his eyes. Never took the trails, these kids . . . had to play cowboy and Indian. The mountains to them was a big playground . . . but when they got lost they came crying to the park rangers. Joe couldn't count the number of plumped-up horror stories explaining the disappearance of hikers he'd found untouched on the other side of the park. He didn't know whether to spank this boy or pat him on the shoulder soothingly. He did neither.
"If she's not there?" Jed's face turned ashen at that grim prospect.
'Then we'll organize a search party and find her . . . "
Jed sputtered on his mouthful of soup. "And put it in the papers . . . ? "
"Skokie, Illinois girl deserted by boyfriend . . . found mauled to death by bear. . . " Goodbye football scholarship.
"Only if . . . " Joe squinted across the room at the pathetically distraught youth, then looked down at the floor. "Only if . . . for the obituaries."
Jed didn't know what to think about this whole situation. It was a messy problem.
Cindy . . . don't be dead . . . I promise I'll never force you into doing it with me. . . just don't be dead . . . don't do this to me!
CHAPTER TEN
The moment Sonia Greenley dashed for the bathroom, blood gushing from her nose, Cindy seriously considered the possibility that her inhospitable rescuers would, in their perverted tortures.. . seriously hurt her. The pinching, teasing and lesbian lust was foreplay, the rope-bound virgin realized in a chill. She felt her own throat gag in vicarious spasms as she'd watched Sonia's Adam's apple bob feverishly to swallow Paul Comstock's milky sperm. A shiver of nausea rippled inside of Cindy's tummy at the prospect of sharing Sonia's fate. But Sonia had reveled in it.
How could a woman enjoy anything so filthy? Her glassy eyes passed over their smug faces. Smut-like parasites, squirming maggots, these immoral creatures lived on smut!
In the bathroom beyond, the regurgitating wretching of Sonia gagging on her own blood (or was it Paul Comstock's sperm . . . ? ) caused Cindy to test the ropes once more. No use . . . Her fingertips and toes had whitened from the secure fetters, and she wriggled her toes and clenched her fists in a series of adrenaline-powered movements to get the blood circulating in her body again. Every pint of her life fluid seemed to have centered in the throbbing, aching center of her womanhood, swelling the flanges and bloating her clitoris like a ripe cherry.
Flickering firelight playing over Paul Comstock's too-handsome features lent a malefic glint to his grin of lewd expectation, alerting the teen-ager in a silent manner that her turn had come. She was it, the movable pawn in his wife's wicked game.
Cindy's rectum felt chafed from Zelda's gorging finger and her nipple stung from the blonde's sharp teeth, but it was Guy Greenley's thickly palpitating manhood digging into her soft hip that she feared most.
"Think you've got the hang of it now, Cindy?" Zelda murmured in her ear, rubbing the helplessly tied girl's silken belly with her free hand. "With those pouty, soft lips of yours you should put Sonia to shame. Ready for the test, Cindy?"
Cindy felt her flesh chill in goose bumps at the horrible idea. "No, please," she begged, shaking her head and pleading with her moist brown eyes. "Not that.. . I can't. . . . "
"Rule one, baby. Never say can't," Zelda teased mockingly, darting her free hand down to the virgin's tender pussylips and stroking the wet flesh in polishing circles to bring a whimper of frustration from Cindy's throat. The mere pressure of a finger on her expertly primed little cunt was enough to make the brunette quiver in sheer anguish. It burned down there, itched like poison ivy.
"Wouldn't you like to just kiss Guy's cock, darling?" taunted Zelda. "Maybe nibble it a little bit, and kiss his balls, too?"
"No, no, nooo," moaned Cindy, her flesh crawling with fear and revulsion, her mind recoiling in dread at the thought of putting her mouth to this lust-infected stranger's hardened cock and dangling, hairy testicles. She drew in a lungful of air, the pungently musky scent of sex steaming up from between her own legs heightened her resistance. "If you're going to rape me, do it and get it over with," blurted Cindy furiously. "Why . . . God, why, are you torturing me like this?"
But as Cindy stared into Zelda's wildly gleaming eyes she already knew the answer, but clung tenaciously to the last shred of pride and dignity, terrified that she might end up like the thoroughly corrupted, scrupu-less degenerate fingering her rectum.
Unexpectedly, Zelda ripped her painted talon out of the brunette's tightly skewered anus and with narrowed eyes, stared at Guy.
"Go ahead. Sit on her tits, Guy, and shove your prick in her mouth! Baby face is going to face the sperm test."
Every ganglion in Cindy's straining body tensed with fear, and her tear-stained dimpled face burned with haunting shame as Guy greedily straddled her ribs with his legs folded under him, his reddened face grinning lecherously down at her as he nudged his sinewy ass cheeks forward until they mashed down her heaving breasts. Cindy thought she might get sick to her stomach from seeing the seeping purple tipped cock waggling before her soft lips, the slitted eye shining with a milky droplet oozing forth. But it was the close up sight of his heavy sperm swollen balls that made her most afraid. How ugly . . . as though she would actually want to lick those sagging, hairy sacs!
A mewling whimper of self pity tumbled from Cindy's lips when Guy hunched forward and supported his weight with his palms on the rug above her head, brushing the wiry pubic hairs against her throat. A dribble of pre-cum puddled to her chin and she let out a horrified shriek which delighted Zelda to the blackened core of her heart. The position was so utterly debasing and claustrophobic to the young virgin that she would have died then and there if given the choice, before submitting to being savagely fucked in her defenseless mouth by this hairy, grinning" idiot. To blot out the obscene panorama of his stubby cock and dangling balls was Cindy's sole concern, but a mesmeric fascination gripped her, fascinating her with her own torment as his blood swollen cock head lowered and aimed for the target of her pink, quivering mouth.
"Ahhhh . . . mmmmfff . . . " For a moment the shamed virgin resisted as the hot musky tip of his rubbery cock pressed against her fear clenched lips, but Zelda's finger sliding threateningly beneath her buttocks in an unspoken warning made the nineteen year old relax her jaw muscles, gurgling and coughing as the hot tipped penis slid forcefully into her virgin mouth, his throbbing, rubbery flesh rippling over her warm tongue and crushing against her throat, the swollen sac of his testicles resting against her button chin.
"Come on, bitch, suck it!" grunted Guy irritably, knowing everyone . . . including Sonia, now . . . was watching his performance, grading him.
"Some stimulation, perhaps," said Zelda in an ominous voice and her pointed fingernail touched Cindy's tender anal ring. Quickly, the sobbing brunette closed her lips on the man's blood engorged cock and made a sucking motion, a soft babyish vacuum.
"Mmmmmffff . . . " The heated up Scotsman, invigorated by his own power, drove his lust thickened cock in long powerful strokes into her helpless mouth, forcing her to gag with each of his groaning lunges, his burning cock head ramming against the tender back of her throat, the strong smell of his loins filling Cindy's nostrils and adding to her misery.
There's a man's penis in my mouth! Cindy thought abysmally, her spread eagled body trembling from the sickening knowledge that his thick, hot cum would soon spurt down her throat and she would have to eat it. That vile thought created a traitorous faint involuntary excitement as the meaty mouthful unearthed in her buried libido a feeling of being totally dominated-not the smothering domination of an overly protective mother-but the domination of being the weaker sex in this obscene rape of her mouth. Could it be . . . she was beginning to like it!
Fending off crude advances from clumsy boys and feeling superior for her hands off attitude was one thing. . . Now that superiority was crumbled beneath a stranger's pumping cock and by the strange, yet exciting feel of his balls slapping against her chin and the musky odor of his loins in her nostrils. Guy's quickening grunts titillated Cindy too, as she watched his saliva soaked rod, its cord-like veins throbbing with blood, ram noisily in and out of her sucking lips, inspiring her to swirl her tongue around it and tighten her mouth on its lust-bloated girth. The underside veins wriggled against her sensitive tongue like a squirming worm and her tongue followed its path willingly. Slowly, her mouth became one with its invader. Oh, God, would that woman never stop? Cindy felt a pair of burning lips clutch one of her puckered nipples and suck hard at the strawberry tip, and a deep whimper of unwanted pleasure gurgled up from her throat. Fighting it, her body arched upward in the shameful but desperate hope that Zelda-for it had to be Zelda-would abandon her breast and crawl down between her legs to suck her aching cunt and trigger the orgasm her wildly gyrating body craved. The ropes pulled taut off the floor as the moaning virgin strained valorously against her bonds, instinctively wanting to grip Guy's fucking penis in her mouth and stroke it the way she'd seen Sonia Greenley stroking Zelda's husband's minutes before, yearning to feel her rapist's hotly throbbing flesh in her fingers as well as in her now eager mouth.
Stop it, Cindy! You can't like it! Cindy scolded herself feverishly as the rubbery, musky tasting cock head gorged past her tonsils. I can't help it. . . !I.. . oh God, Hike being fucked in the mouth! I would never let Jed do this to me.. . Lord, how can they turn me around like this?
Unabashed moans of delicious excitation streamed from her cock filled throat as another vivid sensation charged through her nakedly straining body: Someone was kissing her inner thighs!
Suck my vagina! Cindy wanted to cry out. Please, please do it to me-I'm going insane down there . . . I need to cum or explode!
"Shit, that's good!" Guy gasped above the panting, noisily sucking virgin, gyrating his hips as though her lush hot mouth was a tight vagina. "Yeah . . . use your tongue, baby-mmmmmmmm! Jeez, you're going to be a good little cock sucker!" He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. Hear that, Sonia, you cheating cunt!
Cindy's desire twisted face scrunched with shame at the vile term she'd seen scribbled on many a girl's bathroom wall, but she felt an undeniable thrill of pride, too, tiny though it be, and his vulgar praise of her efforts encouraged her to tighten her lips harder around his lunging cockshaft and even nibble on his burning flesh with her pearly front teeth. The thundering titillation galloping through her veins whittled at her fear of having him shoot his fiery sperm into her helpless mouth; now she tasted the thick, salty male secretions with curiosity rather than disgust.
But the kisses nibbling on her captive thighs were becoming unadulterated torture as the mocking lips circled her pussy curls and tingling cuntal lips and teased within a scant inch of the sizzling crevice, but diabolically refused to make contact. Sobbing, Cindy jerked her belly up in a wordless plea to be ravaged, but Zelda's soft mocking laugh drifted up to her buzzing ears amid her own frustrated whimpers and Guy's ruttish grunts.
Unbearable, scalding pleasure tore through the hysterical virgin's anus, a wet tickling thrill that made Cindy quiver in a cold frenzy of shivering eroticism. What's she . . . oh God, she's stuck her hot tongue up my ass! Cindy's flickering eyelids saw red as scorching waves of tingling rapture jolted through the girl's loins as Zelda's probing tongue lapped at the puckered button of Cindy's anal slit. The eerie, damning thrills goaded the feverish young girl into whipping her curly head upward to meet each of Guy's savage throat gagging cock thrusts into her painfully stretched mouth.
Mmmmm, what a delicious asshole! The little bitch is turning on! Zelda thought as the tight sphincter muscle clasped hotly at her squirming tongue. The fragrance of Cindy's virgin cunt grinding up against her aristocratic nose was like an intoxicating bouquet of aphrodisiac flowers to the older woman, and her fingers kept up a greedy pressure on the shivering girl's buttocks, kneading and exploring the hot velvety flesh, comparing Cindy's ass cheeks with scores of others Zelda had stroked and tongued and bitten into over the years.
The sight of a young girls' naked buttocks, taut and firm and proud, fascinated the blonde lesbian and next to cunnilingus, she loved nothing more than tongue fucking a tight silken anus and hearing her female prisoner's wails of erupting pleasure. Part of Zelda's lustful joy stemmed from the thrilling anticipation of thrusting her wet tongue deep into a girl's churning rectum or cunt with the sadistic assurance that it would prepare the girl for her husband's immense penis. Her ripe lips and tongue always paved a slippery path for Paul's ravaging stalk of flesh, and as a lust-inspired team they were invincible.
Even as the virgin's resistance softened, grinding her nether cheeks against Zelda's hot mouth and wriggling her tongue fucked anus in frantic delight the blonde's own frothing excitement throbbed in her loins and she wished Guy would hurry and cum in Cindy's wildly sucking mouth so she could straddle the girl's face herself.
"Oh, Christ, you-unnggh!-hot mouth is gonna make me cum!" Guy gasped as he crouched forward over Cindy's madly arched body and slammed his seeping cock head in a savage rhythm into her succulent mouth, feeling his bursting cock head bang against her cushiony throat. He'd never fucked a girl's mouth from on top before and staring her in the eye while she slaved over his genitals made him swell with domineering pride in a way he'd never felt with his own aggressive wife. Dammit, he'd have to rape Sonia like this-she'd never volunteer. Oh, she'd give him blow jobs if he ate her pussy, and then contemptuously refused to let him cum in her mouth. He'd sure like to prove to her who wore the pants in the family.. . if he could get up enough nerve.
"Mmmmmm . . . unggh!" Suddenly Guy stiffened and plunged his inflamed cock to the hilt between Cindy's pinkly ovaled lips, wishing too late that he'd forced her to lick his balls to show Sonia what she was in for. A deep grunt rippled his upper lip as the wailing virgin's lips sucked to coax his gushing load, her burning mouth like a vacuum cleaner tearing his hot sperm from his testicles in fiercely rushing gushes.
"Mmmmmm!" Cindy moaned deliriously as the searing liquid spattered her throat violently, threatening to drown her until she gulped the thick, hot stream in a reflex action. As the salty semen splashed on her tongue and flowed thickly down her throat, the madly excited virgin swallowed it eagerly, craning her head up to suck on his dwindling penis and rolling her tongue around her flooded mouth to savor the boiling cum with obscene relish.
Fm eating his cum-and I love it! Cindy's mind whirled in dervish-like circles with each gulp and mewling whimper. With a soul-deadening shock she realized she was not only beginning to enjoy her helplessness and humiliation, she was beginning to crave it! Cindy wallowed in raw debauchery, feeling the last of Guy's sticky sperm trickling down her spasming throat and Zelda's tongue squirming in her ass cheeks darting in circles against the sensitive anal crack, withdrawing to make the panting virgin writhe in a frantic plea for more.
When Guy slipped his limp tube out of her mouth, Cindy sobbed in protest and watched sadly his loins pull back from her lust glazed eyes as he got to his knees, then stood up, towering over her with a smug, satisfied grin.
"Best blow job I've ever had," beamed Guy, taking in a chest-swelling lungful of air, glancing at his wife triumphantly, seeing her dark eyes flash with naked jealousy. "Maybe she could give you a few lessons, Sonia."
"Not yet," Zelda spoke up from between Cindy's soft inner thighs, standing up and smiling as she licked at the flavor of the young virgin's cuntal milk on her lush red lips. "Poor Sonia hasn't had a chance to touch our virgin yet, and I can see from the look on her face that she's jealous of us for holding out on her." Zelda glanced toward Guy with lust dancing eyes, then back at the shriveling figure sitting on the floor cuddling up against Paul's spread knees. "It's your turn with our little baby, Sonia. I'll be generous and let you try her ass. How's that? Feel better now, Sonia?"
Sonia withered like a flower in autumn frost. She lifted her imploring eyes to her husband whose rebuking serves-you-right grin made her sizzle inside. Damn him . . . was he going to stand there while Zelda made a fool of her? For the second time that night, she sensed all eyes on her, waiting for her to prove her sex-hungry facade was genuine. Her mute answer seemed to please Zelda who'd successfully driven home the point that Sonia wasn't the swinger she pretended to be, and that made Zelda slacken her mental vise on the black haired beauty.
"That's okay," added Zelda condescendingly. "We'll give your bloody nose a minute to heal. We wouldn't want our baby to think that blood was her cherry, would we?" Her eyes snapped to Cindy who lay wiping her tongue over her semen encrusted lips, unconsciously grinding her buttocks into the soft teasing fur.
"Paul, push the button by the bar and let's give our virgin a peek at last week's party, huh?" she grinned, her aristocratic features smooth and haughty. "I'd love nothing more than to sit on your face and grind my pussy lips into your mouth, but you'd love that too much, wouldn't you, Cindy?" taunted the blonde, reaching down to gently cup her palm over Cindy's blazing vaginal lips, making the girl squirm and grind her teeth together in agony.
The soft, grinding sound of the screen unrolling from the ceiling made Cindy crane her neck. Would this witch stop at nothing?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A burst of white light from the humming projector hidden in the raw wood paneling bathed the screen in a colorless splash. . . and then Cindy's lust-dilated pupils focused on a young naked girl not over fifteen years old.
"Our little runaway, Rhonda," smirked Zelda, laying down beside Cindy's roped-down body, running her fingertips in teasing circles around Cindy's puckered navel.
On all fours, the girl's long blonde hair mopped about her baby face, the camera lens picking up glistening streaks of tears scalding her flushed cheeks, her chin trembling pathetically. She scampered across the floor, her rosebud mouth opening in a silent scream as behind her strong hands, cut out of the picture's frame, yanked at her ankles brutally, flopping her flat on her naked stomach. Cindy winced at the tree trunk sized erection that could only belong to Paul Comstock himself . . . poking up in the background. On film, Rhonda reared up on her haunches like a frightened horse as the camera swept over the clothed buttocks of a second man in front. The two men swiveled her cringing body around in a sideways profile view, and the faceless man in front grabbed her by the hair and forced her to kneel in front of him. Like a groveling, begging animal. . . thought Cindy.
Aaaahhhh! The girl's head snapped back as a hand struck her cheek, her mouth ovaling in protest, tears pouring down her cheeks. The faceless man straightened his legs and spread them apart giving her room to crawl between them, as she cowered there, giving up the fight as he tangled his hands in her long blonde tresses and pulled her head down, grinding his crotch up against her face to give her a preview of the hard, blunt-tipped coming attraction.
Oh dear Lord! Cindy blinked at the screen. Another victim of Zelda's torture chamber. Good God! How could a woman enjoy cruelty to those of her same sex. She could well understand a woman wanting to degrade and torture a man, make him crawl as men had made women crawl since he first realized that meaty stalk between his legs could do more than relieve his bladder. Even her own Mama would agree to that.. . but tkisl Cindy sucked in her breath, her thoughts instantly aborted as Zelda's light fingered touch feathered across her pussy curls, salacious as a cool breath on her inflamed genitals.
Up on the screen naked Rhonda submissively stationed herself between the man's legs while he ground his crotch up into her pretty face, his hard erection bumping unevenly over her fear tightened features. The man's mouth moved and staring pale-faced up at him, the girl fumbled with the man's zipper for a moment, her delicate polished fingertips delving fearfully into the folds of fabric until she pulled it out . . . a redly seeping, purple tipped cudgel. The girl's mouth opened in a scream, but the man grabbed her hand brutally and forcefully wrapped it around his cock, skinning it back so that the shiny head popped out from the thick foreskin a scant few inches from her bulging, tearing eyes.
The girl balked, but the man stopped her actions short as he pulled her to him until her closed lips were pressed tightly against the slippery, rubbery tip.
Cindy watched, her body ready to erupt in a scream. That's how she had looked, victimized and beaten before Zelda insisted Guy rape her mouth. Don't give in, don't give in! Cindy chanted silently to the girl on the screen. The dark haired hiker licked her lips once more, lapping up the remnants of Guy's strong tasting sperm. Would Rhonda break and succumb to her torture the same way Cindy had. . . reveling in subjugation, loving the helplessness, craving the degradation? "Ohhhh. . . . " Cindy whimpered as Zelda's fingertip made a few pleasing, polishing strokes over Cindy's thumping clitoris.
Rhonda refused to open her mouth, pressing her lips together tightly, trying in vain to pull free of the man's steely grip. Cindy sucked in her breath, mesmerized by this film which so ominously depicted her own hapless fate.
Behind the blonde, Paul had picked up a belt and swung the heavy leather strap, snapping it across the girl's shivering buttocks. His teeth were bared, his cheeks flushed, and Cindy withered: she had yet to fall victim to Paul's lust. Cindy winced, imagining the biting sting and hissing sound of the leather raising red welts on the girl's naked buttocks. As Rhonda's young lips parted in a sudden shock of pain, the thick, seeping cock rammed forward, hitting its target with perfect aim. The girl's pretty, innocent face scrunched up distastefully, and Cindy could almost taste the first pearl of pre-cum as the girl now tasted it. She reddened, coughed and sputtered as the man shoved his loins against her baby face while behind, Paul held her firmly.
On the screen the hips began a slow ball bearing-like rotation, the thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth with mounting fury. Paul moved into the frame and his grin? widened with each grunt from the mouth-raping man. Decisively Zelda's husband dropped the belt and went at the girl's ass cheeks with hungry hands, tweaking and teasing the small buds of her pubescent breasts, too. His fingers kneaded her flesh hungrily as he watched his companion's thick hot cock sawing into the girl's wide stretched glistening lips.
"Look familiar, darling?" cooed Zelda beside Cindy. "Can't you just taste his cum, can't you feel Paul's fingers on your titties?"
Oh God! Cindy blinked her eyes. Yes, yes, she could! She watched the fifteen year old's expression change from shriveling fear to easy submission as she ran her tongue around the slimy lubricated tip, wet looking in the camera's eye. Cindy gaped in awe as the man's penis throbbed and pulsated on the screen as if his cum would spurt in sticky threads out of the screen right into her mouth!
A dry gulp choked Cindy's throat as she realized this man would cum into that poor girl's mouth the way Guy had cum in hers, and her mind screamed in defense of virgins everywhere. Apparently Rhonda's mind was screaming in protest too, for a growlish expression crossed her innocent face and she clamped her teeth tightly down on the man's cock.
"Aaaaaaargggghhhhh!" Everybody in the room could hear the man's silent scream. In the corner Guy sucked in his breath and grabbed himself defensively, while Paul, sitting lazily in the chair tweaked at Sonia's nipples and chuckled.
On the screen Paul picked up his belt and towered above the girl, only his hairy legs showing in the frame now. Rhonda's body heaved and jerked as the belt sang across her reddened buttocks. Tears, obviously of pain, flowed down her face, but she sucked on the man's penis nonetheless, her long dark eyelashes fanning to dry her tears, all fight beaten out of her. The blood heavy cock rammed mercilessly into her pretty face, mashing into it, flattening her nose. Suddenly, he pulled it all the way out and slammed it back in so hard the girl rocked on her heels. Arching his pelvis up toward her face, he pressed against Rhonda's silken cheeks with the tips of his pudgy fingers so that her mouth was screwed tighter around it. Gripping her head between his hands, his balls exploding with their juices, he rammed his penis all the way to her tonsils.
Even on the screen, Cindy could see the hot sticky sperm shoot in a thick stream deep into her sucking mouth. But he held her head in front of him, waiting for his testicles to spurt out the dregs of his cum. Rhonda's Adams apple bobbed in rapid rhythm, swallowing the gushing sperm squirting into her throat, her face wrinkling in a protesting wail as the man collapsed back on his haunches, pulling the withered tube of his penis from her sucking mouth. Cindy gaped as the girl licked her lips, eating up every stringy trickle of the man's cum. God . . . I looked that depraved!
In back of her, Rhonda must have felt hands working at her buttocks, for she cast a fearful glance over her shoulder to see Paul drawing the cheeks apart, his thumbs pressuring the crevice wide apart. Rhonda tried to wrench away, but to no avail.
From his comfortable perch Paul stared amusedly at the home movies, remembering how he had taunted Rhonda into tickling his balls while the others in the room watched his triumph-especially his wife. On the screen he watched Rhonda reaching back to stroke his hairy balls, treating them like crown jewels, fearful of hurting, thus angering him. With his bony knees he pushed her creamy thighs wider apart, the hair of his legs abrading the insides of hers. God, that chick had a beautiful ass, he mused now, reaching down to pinch Sonia's nipple, contemplating how differently women responded to sex. Had it been Sonia instead of Rhonda, she would have begged him to stick his finger in her ass!
A palling silence fell over the room as on the screen Paul held the girl's buttocks wide apart and pressed his infamously fat cock at the cringing hole of her anus. The girl's head flew back, jaw slackened in a silent scream. Suddenly, other hands were upon her, holding her down at the shoulders, pressing her to the floor. In battering lunges his thighs thrust hers forward, his arms holding her hips tight to his.
Laying on the floor, Cindy shared every excruciating pain and humiliation with the fifteen year old girl on the screen. Though she was a neophyte at sex, she imagined sodomy to be like flicking a Band-Aid off a hair-covered wound . . . searingly painful, biting and excruciating, and so she did not find it one bit amusing when on the screen Paul's penis thundered right up into the girl's rectum, his upper lip curling from the effort.
Out of the corner of one brown eye Cindy glowered over at Paul who sat sipping champagne contentedly, his handsome features almost God-like in the flickering light of the projector. She loathed his good looks, she loathed his complacency, and she loathed his brutal treatment of the girl on the screen. Now and then a little snicker rumbled from his throat and Cindy correctly imagined that his penis was getting hard from watching second-hand macho brutality. That disgusted her to the core. A new wave of indignation and pride possessed her and she repeated her vow, "Never . . . ! "
Paul dipped his fingers into the peanut bowl and crunched on a handful bovinely, reliving last week and feeling his penis bloat with memory. Little Rhonda had the tightest asshole he'd ever tried to plug, so tight he swore she had screws on it. She'd put up a fuss, working against her pain until she caught the rhythm of it and relaxing her sphincter muscle, rammed back in time to his buttocks flattening thrusts. Her anal hole had felt all buttery smooth and warm and snug around his blood heavy cock, and despite her pleading and screams, Rhonda had loved it. His loins still ached from the satiny feel of her buttocks moving in tiny circles and the kittenish mewls bubbling from her baby throat. Like all females, once she'd eased into the sensation of it, Rhonda had wanted him to spurt his hot juicy cum up into her asshole.
Kneeling above her, Paul had watched the reddish skin of the little round hole draw back with his prick, clutching it as if it didn't want to come out and he had watched his bloated penis disappear right up her fifteen year old ass with every hammering stroke. That puckering little button swallowed up all but half an inch of it. Paul began to drub cruelly into her then, hard and fast, battering her quivering buttocks with his slamming hips while gripping her waist hard with his steely fingers, squeezing the spare flesh into oozing shapes.
On the screen Rhonda's naked body undulated this way and that, her satiny skin shimmering with a translucent film of perspiration, her eyes wild and glassy as she flayed her head from side to side, whipping her long blonde tresses in a honeyed fan.
Oh, dear Jesus . . . she's starting to like it! Cindy strained at her ropes, her own eyes glassy as doll eyes from Zelda's teasing fingertips playing over her crying cunt, rubbing at the oily nub of her clitoris every fifth or sixth stroke. Paul is going to take me in the rectum . . . this film is part of their torture, but now that I know their plan I can make.. . my body stop grinding. . .oh, cripes. . . she's rubbing my clitoris again.. . I don't think.. . I can stand much more of thissssss! Cindy's eyelids fluttered ecstatically and she arched her back off the bear skin rug, ramming her pelvis down into Zelda's massaging hand, feeling herself spin off into a universe of exploding firecrackers until.. .
Zelda lifted her hand and poked a finger into Cindy's lust gaping mouth. "Taste it, honey? Good, isn't it?"
"Oh, please . . . " Cindy's cheeks burned with frustration and the humiliation of tasting her own excitement.
"Please . . . what, darling?" Zelda's fingers were back on Cindy's rosebud nipples, tweaking, pinching.
Don't you dare say it! Cindy clenched her eyes shut, clamped her jaw determinedly and shook her head, opening her eyes seconds later to see the fifteen year old victim slamming back against Paul's punishing penis.
From the perfidiously twisted look on Paul's face, it appeared that he wouldn't stop until he'd split Rhonda's body wide open like an animal carcass prepared for the spit. His purple knobbed prick was huge and heavy, as if it had ripened in the last few seconds, and his mouth flew open, his head back as he gasped above her. One more time he shoved forward with an almighty thrust that must have torn through the walls of Rhonda's quivering belly. Nobody had to tell Cindy that Paul had splattered his sticky cum into Rhonda's rectum right then. The girl's body had stiffened, as she knelt slave-like in front of him, buttocks still waving high in the air and pressed tight back against his hairy loins as he poured his seed into her anal passage, filling her soft rectum to the bursting point with warm, sticky wetness. Silently he mouthed his final delight and collapsed on top of her, crushing her ravished body flat down against the mattress.
The whizzing, crackling sound of film pulling off the. spool was the only sound in the room, except for low, anguished groans from the rope-tied virgin whose only cogent thought was: He's going to rape me in the anus, too. He will . . . he will.. . Her sore rectum ached in defense, but that was a mere pinprick compared to the scalding bite of fear when Zelda rose to her feet.
The bronze Amazon ordering her troops, thought Cindy dully, shuddering from the lecherous dictator's expected command. She didn't have to ask for attention, so pervasive was her power. "Now it's angel titties turn to suck my pussy."
Cindy shriveled inside, staring up at the woman's swollen breasts capped with brown puckered nipples, her deep tan almost Negroid in the dim light. Waves of lesbian debauchery formed a murky aura radiating from her heated erogenous zones, adding to her insurmountable wantonness. "Do a good job and maybe I'll untie you afterward . . . "
"No.. . no . . . get away from me!" rebelled Cindy, thrashing her head from side to side as she felt Zelda's naked body sliding down next to hers, her blonde curled pussy hovering directly over Cindy's mouth.
"Never!" hissed the virgin through clenched teeth. "Never!"
