13 Susan Learns More About Her Sacrifice, and Doesn't Like It
14 Two Girls Suffering
15 Deflowering
16 Casa de Shackled Women
CHAPTER ONE
Taking the Girl
"Shit! It's the sheriff!"
Luke Cory rose high in the saddle at the shout from his partner. Sure enough, there were five riders coming hard, raising a dust cloud behind them on the dry, dirty road. Quickly he glanced at the strongbox laying in the dust where the man riding shotgun had thrown it, gauging whether he had time to dismount, blast open the box, and load the payroll into his saddlebags. But only seconds remained before the riders would reach the scene, and already he could see that they were drawing their rifles. "Shit!" he echoed. "Let's get!" he added louder.
Then he happened to glance at the four passengers standing by the stagecoach, their arms raised in the air. All except, that was, the pretty young woman in the pale green dress with the cute little matching pillbox hat. He had noticed her when she exited the stage, how she her figure filled out that dress in front and the nice turn of ankle flashed as her foot reached for the ground. Without thinking, he prodded his horse to move over next to the stage. Without warning, he reached down with the hand that was not holding the six-shooter, and grabbed the young woman under one arm. Up he lifted her until she was sitting sidesaddle in front of him. He turned to leave when one of the male passengers, a middle aged man in fancy clothes, suddenly pulled a derringer from a pocket and pointed it at Luke. Luke shot him at point blank range and saw his body fall straight backwards, bounce off the coach, and crumple into the dust by the wheel.
"Shit!' he muttered even as he was kicking his horse in the side.
"What you grab her for?' shouted Billy.
"If the sheriff catches us, she might be out ticket to freedom," he called back.
Then both of them were riding hard away from the rapidly approaching posse and too busy to debate his decision.
Fortunately for the two road agents, Luke knew the land around there, and that there was a creek a short distance away. Among the trees around the creek, and with the water to replace a dust trail, they might evade the sheriff and his deputies.
The girl he held firmly with one arm while his other hand held the reins was shocked at first, but soon got over it and began struggling.
"You fall off at a gallop and you'll get hurt," he told her angrily.
She paused to consider that. The horse was moving rather fast down the hill. Falling would not be pleasant, but then what this desperado might do to her could be far more unpleasant. She tried to get one fist up to strike him in the face.
"Listen, lady, calm down and I'll let you go when we get to the creek," he offered in a shout to be heard above the pounding hooves.
The woman ceased her struggles and use that hand to hold on to his shirt. She hadn't been able to get a good hit in, anyway.
The welcome greenery of trees appeared around the next bend. Just then there was a cracking sound, followed by another. Luke didn't know that the sound was a small sonic boom caused by the bullets exceeding the speed of sound, but he knew he was being shot at and spurred his horse on to greater efforts.
The creek was rocky and filled with snow runoff as they plunged into it. But it was only a couple feet deep and the horses, while slowed down, could still make headway while splashing water around. Luke prayed that his horse wouldn't slip on the rocky bottom and throw them. He turned upstream and Billy followed.
A few seconds later the sheriff reined in his horse before the creek. The two who had held up the stage were nowhere in sight. But had they gone down the stream? Or up? Or into the trees across the creek.
One of the deputies, a half-breed named Challo waded into the creek and leaned over, looking intently into the water. His horse slowly walked around in a circle. Then he straightened up and pointed up the creek. All four took off in that direction, hooves splashing water in all directions.
Luke slowly his horse down. The animalwas breathing heavy and sweating. There wasn't much run left in him. Billy came up along side as they walked through the water.
"Figure them's behind us?" Billy asked with his Southern drawl.
Luke rose in the saddle and looked behind them. "Maybe," was all he would say.
They continued down stream, hoping that the sheriff was still rushing full speed up the creek. Luke had gone only far enough to cut into a clump of trees, then double back. They heard the horses pass them on the other side of the trees, and disappear into the distance.
"They'll figure they lost us pretty soon," he said as if thinking out loud. "So we had better be out of here."
"I'll thank you to put me down over there," the girl said, pointing to the edge of the creek.
"Not right now," Luke told her.
Her pretty face frowned. Hadn't he promised to let her go as soon as they reached the creek? But she said nothing more and hoped that he was a man of his word.
Of course, she should have considered that he was also a hold-up man, and probably murdered that man who had tried to come to her rescue, and therefore not to be trusted at all.
A dozen minutes later Luke turned out of the creek and through a thicket of trees. On the other side there was an old Indian trail leading up a rather steep hill. "We get off here," he said. "We'll walk the horses up that trail. They need the rest and probably couldn't carry us up there anyway."
He swung his leg over and dismounted easily. Then he reached up to help his hostage down. She stood there for a second, brushing the dust off her green dress. Then she started to walk away. He grabbed her arm and jerked her back.
"You said that you would let me go," she said sternly.
He looked into her deep blue eyes and saw fear behind them. She might be putting up a stern front, but inside she was scared. "In a little bit," he told her. "I want to make sure that we've lost the sheriff. Walk in front of me." He pointed to the thin trail.
The woman looked at it, then up the hill, then back at him. "Please, can't you just let me go here? I'll tell the sheriff that you went off the other side of the creek. Please?"
"Walk." He accented his order with a push of her arm. She shook off his hand and turned to the trail.
The trail was rocky and steep and very narrow. But the horses, with no riders to hinder them, picked their footing carefully and followed the men. The girl walked directly in front of Luke so he could keep an eye on her.
For a while they walked with nothing happening and no sounds of pursuit behind them, for which both the bandits were glad. Then, as the trail turned back upon itself and there was a gentler slope going down hill, the girl made a break for it. Her intent was to jump off the trail and slide down the dirt. It might have worked, and Luke could only recapture her by abandoning his horse and sliding down after her. She was betting that he would not do that.
Unfortunately for the young woman, Luke had been expecting something like that. As soon as she turned to step off the trail, his hand grabbed her arm and jerked her back. Without a word, he pushed her up against his horse and held her there with one hand while his other reached into the saddlebag to fetch a length of rawhide.
Quickly he pulled her arms around behind her and crossed the wrists, wrapping the rawhide tightly around them. A half dozen windings and he cinched them down, then knotted the ends with a hard jerk. He added a second knot for good measure. The girl grunted when he jerked the cinch tight but said nothing.
Then he took a short length of white rope from the saddlebag and made a loop of one end. That he placed over her head and snugged it down around her neck. Only then did he allow her to back away from the sweaty horse.
"You walk ahead and be good," he told her. "This will be tied to the saddle. You try to jump again and you'll hang yourself. Now git."
With a sniff of disdain, she turned and walked ahead. He watched as she twisted her wrists, testing the rawhide. But he know how to tie a good knot and the rawhide was not going to be worked off. He tied the other end of the rope to the saddle horn and continued up the trail.
Then reached the crest only after a good twenty minutes of climbing. From the top, they could see over many miles of country, mostly barren hills with occasional green arroyos. The sun was bright and the air clear, so they could see quite a distance. Looking behind, Luke could see no sign of the posse, but knew that they could not be far off.
The trail branched off to the left and right along the ridge of the hill. Another one wound its way down the other side. They paused to catch their breath while he considered the options.
"You figure you kilt that man?" asked Billy.
"Wouldn't be surprised. Shot him right in the face."
"Shit. The sheriff won't take kindly to that. He'll chase you all the way to the Mexico border."
"Then we better get there before he does," Luke said with a sigh. Running for their lives from the law was not what he had planned for the afternoon. Hiding in a canyon hideout, counting their money and making plans for spending it in New Orleans would have been better.
"South," Luke said, pointing along the ridge line to the left. "Got a long way to ride."
He had to prod the girl in the back to get her walking. She looked as if she was ready to cry, and he sincerely hoped that she wouldn't. The thought occurred to him that if she were to shout out loud, the sheriff might hear it. Then the chase would be on again. But he hoped she would not think of that.
A couple miles farther down, the trailed branched off to the west. They took the branch still going south and worked their way down a gentle slope to where the trail disappeared. But the land there was flatter, and the horses rested, so they mounted up and continued south. The girl was helped up behind Luke, but he left her hands tied even though she said that they hurt and wanted them untied. It was far easier to control her with her hands tied, and he didn't want to get rid of her until he was certain they had gotten away from the sheriff. Far away.
The sun was painting an airy canvas with gorgeous reds, oranges, pinks, and every shade between. But the three riders who were pushing their two horses to the limit along a ridge many miles from where the they had held up the stagecoach had little time to enjoy the spectacle. At times during the afternoon, they had seen riders on the ridges behind them and knew the sheriff and his men were not resting in their pursuit, so they could not rest in their flight.
But horses were only living animal-s and had their limits. Luke called a halt when the light was fading. There was a small creek below them, and they used the disappearing light to work their way down to it. He helped his captive down, then unsaddled his horse, letting it wander over to the water and drink its fill. The girl stood there glaring at him as he placed his saddle up against a rock and tossed the blanket next to it. The saddle blanket smelled of horse sweat. "You lied to me."
Luke turned to the girl. "Yeah, I guess I did."
"You said you'd let me go when we got to the creek."
"Yeah. But the sheriff didn't get lost like he was suppose to. I'll bet he has that damned Challo with him. That half breed could track a mouse across the desert."
"So you're not going to let me go until he's no longer chasing you?"
"That's about the size of it. Billy, I reckon this'll be a cold camp. Can't risk a fire with those riders only about a mile back."
'Then you can at least untie my hands." "Nope."
"What do you mean, nope?"
"Just that. You stay tied. Bill and I will take turns standing guard, but I can't take the chance you'll run off during the night."
She stamped her foot but did not contradict his statement. It was certainly her intention to run off at the first opportunity.
"How am I suppose to eat with my hands tied behind me?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Who says I'm going to feed you?"
"You ... You ... !" She stammered and seemed at a lost for the right word. "You're a cad," she finally settled on.
"I've been called worse. Why don't you sit down on that rock before it gets too dark to see it. I'll get the blankets ready."
She sat on the rock indicated and wondered when it would be dark enough so that she could sneak away. Better to wander around in the wilderness with her hands tied behind her back than to stay under their power. Heaven only knows what they might do!
The one who had grabbed her came back with a canteen of water from the creek. He offered it to her and, although she would have liked to spit in his face, she had no spit, so she meekly opened her mouth and allowed him to slowly pour the water. It had been a long, hot ride. They were all covered with dust and had stopped only once for a drink. The water tasted good.
The light was fading rapidly when Luke took his only candle from the saddle bag. It was bent from the heat, but it lit when he touched a match to the wick. He propped it up on the rock behind his saddle and took some hard tack out of the bags. He offered a piece to the girl.
"What's that?" she asked. "Looks like a biscuit."
"Sort of. Hard tack. Ain't much, but it's all we have right now."
She tentatively took the hard cracker from his hand with her mouth. It was, indeed, properly named. She could hardly bite it.
As he ate the meager meal, Luke looked around. The stars were coming out in the sky and no moon was in sight. "This canyon's small," he said to no one in particular. "Sheriff could easily miss it. But we'll keep a guard."
"Shit, man, I'm tired," complained Billy.
"I am too. I'll take the first watch. I'll wake you a little after midnight."
by the flickering candle light, he could study his captive for the first time. She looked to be about nineteen, maybe twenty. The pillbox hat had fallen off someplace back and her blonde hair was disheveled. Undoubtedly she would be brushing it had she hands to do that with. She was a right pretty one, too, with fair skin and a cute little, turned up nose. Those lips were full and sensual.
The part below the neck wasn't very bad, either. Her blouse had gotten rather dirty but still bulged out nicely, promising of a fine pair of breasts underneath. Her waist looked narrow and what he had seen of her legs, they weren't too bad at all. Even in the fading light, her figure reminded him that he hadn't been with a woman for some time.
On her part, Susan was studying the man who controlled her fate. He was in his late twenties, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. They were the part of him that caught her eye immediately. He wasn't bad looking, either. About six foot, slender but with broad shoulders, a man used to working for a living ... Maybe. But he also wore his gun low on his hip and tied down. Most people wore their side arm at the belt level.
His partner, who she had heard called "Bill and Billy", was younger, probably just out of his teens. His hair was a light sand color and wispy. And his face was pockmarked from some childhood disease. She immediately disliked Billy.
"What's your name?" Luke asked.
For a moment it looked as is she were not going to reply, but then she offered, "Susan. Susan Waistcote."
"You like to be called Susan or Sue?" he asked with a smile.
"You can address me as Miss Waistcote." "Well, well!" Luke replied, amused by her answer. "My hands are hurting. You tied them very tightly," she said meekly.
"I meant to." His reply wasn't what she expected. "Please untie me."
The reply this time was to spread the horse blanket out on the ground, then put his bedroll over it. Save for some starlight, the flickering candle light was all that allowed them to see each other. He looked into her blue eyes and waved a hand towards the blanket, "Why don't you lay down? We start out at first light. You'll need some sleep."
"What? Aren't you going to untie my hands?" She seemed alarmed.
"No. And I'm going to add something to make sure that you don't accidentally wander off during the night." Matching words with action, he took the rope that was still dangling from her neck and tugged on it to get her to lay on the blanket. The saddle was positioned to use as a pillow, and when she rested her head on it, at his command, he tied the rope around the saddle horn.
"Don't think you'll try dragging my saddle around by your neck." He pulled half the blanket over her.
"You're mean," she said in a hurt little girl voice. "Yeah, I've been told that before."
Billy had already bedded down on the other side of the rock and was snoring. Luke moved some rocks to make a half-way comfortable place on the ground. He pulled his six-shooter from his holster, unloaded it, checked the mechanism to make sure it was clean and working, then inserted the .44 bullets back into the chambers. Twirling the gun around his finger a couple times, he reinserted it in the low slung holster. Then he blew out the candle.
Slowly his eyes became used to the dark, which was not complete with a million stars shining brightly down. A great band of light stretched across the sky from horizon to horizon, glowing softly. Luke noted the position of a few familiar star patterns, figured where they should be when half the night had passed, and settled down for a long wait.
Across from him, Susan Waistcote watched the same stars shining down and began working at the rawhide binding her hands. Partly to cover any sounds she might be making, she asked him, "What are you going to do with me?"
Luke sighed. "Keep you until we're sure we're safe."
"The sheriff can't follow you beyond the state line."
"That's still a long ways off."
"Will you promise not to hurt me?"
He sighed again. "No promises. Can't you see that we're desperate men? I didn't like the idea of robbing stages, but there wasn't much else I could do. Had to make some money somehow. And now I'm running from the law for killing a man. Shit! Why the hell did he have to draw on me?"
He sounded disgusted with himself. Susan remembered the looks he had given her when he had a minute to spare and knew that he was interested in her body. All men were. And it frightened her to be alone with these two. And with her hands tied behind her, it was especially worse.
As if knowing what she was thinking, Luke told her, "You're save for tonight. I'm too tired to rape you."
Susan said nothing. She was getting nowhere working at the leather strip that bound her wrists. Without meaning to, she drifted off into sleep.
A handful of hours later, Luke woke Billy. The younger man's hand immediate went for his gun until he recognized Luke. "Your turn," he was told. "And, Billy, don't think about fooling around with the girl. She might well be our ticket out of this mess and I don't want her harmed. Understand?"
"Yeah, sure, Luke. Of course. Would I do a thing like that?"
Luke bit back his reply and went over to his blanket where he laid himself out on the ground next to Susan. Almost immediately he was asleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Wooden Prison
There was no cheerful fire to warm the three of them in the cold early morning air. Luke distributed the last of the hard tack, and the mounted up just as the sun began peeking over the distant snow-clad mountains. By the time it had risen, they were several miles from their camp of the night.
Susan complained that she was dirty, hadn't slept well, and her wrists were very sore from rubbing against the rawhide. Luke ignored most of her comments, not having slept very well himself, what with Susan having taken most of his blanket. For the most part, she rode behind his saddle, but when they rested the horses, she walked along side, the rope still about her neck.
Mostly they rode and walk in silence. The landscape had changed from hills to flat desert. Their water ran out in the late afternoon, despite the fact that they had filled up the canteens before leaving the creek. Luke was certain that the border town of Calexico was not far ahead of them. He hoped he was right.
They came upon the wagon at mid-morning. There was a road of sorts, and sitting in the middle of it was a buckboard with a team of two horses harnessed up. A man was kneeling at the back wheel. For a while Luke studied the situation, glancing back over his shoulder at the young woman riding behind him. Then he made up his mind.
"Billy, watch her," he said, then lowered Susan to the ground. Billy remained mounted, alternating his attention between the wagon below and back over his shoulder as if he expected the sheriff to come riding up behind them any second.
Luke urged his horse down the small slope and calmly walked Traveler up to the wagon. "Howdy," he said cheerfully. "Got some trouble?"
The man looked up, suspicion in his eyes. One never knew when he met a stranger in that territory. "Yeah, but I fix it," he said with a heavy Swedish accent. The wheel before him seemed to be perfect okay, so apparently he had, indeed, finished up the repair work.
"Good. You going to Calexico?"
"Yeah."
"How far is it?"
'"Bout ten miles," he said as he pointed down the road.
Luke was looking at the wagon and apparently liked something he saw. "Well, partner," he said slowly. "I thank you for fixing that wheel for us." He suddenly draw his six-shooter. "So I think I'll just borrow your wagon."
The startled man fell backwards to sit in the sand. "I think you want to take a walk. Like over that rise that way." He nodded to back down the road to a small rise. "Git!" He cocked back the hammer to illustrate his sincerity.
The Swede hurried to his feet. "That's my wagon. My horses. You can't take them."
"I'll leave them in Calexico for you. Now git going."
The Swede didn't look very happy, but he backed up, muttering in what was probably Swedish all the time. Finally he turned and began walking down the road. Luke waved to Billy to come on down, and holstered his gun. But he kept his eyes on the man retreating in the distance.
"Why we want a wagon?" asked Billy as soon as he got there. Susan walked along behind him, the rope on her neck assuring that she would follow.
"Traveler is getting tired of carrying two people." He dismounted and climbed up into the wagon. There were several boxes and bundles in the back. Rummaging through sacks, he began tossing them off onto the sand. The boxes proved to have tools in them. They went off, too. Then he as left with one large, wooden box right behind the seat. There was a hasp on it with a place for a padlock, but none right now. It was nailed down to the bed of the wagon. He opened it.
He tossed out some more tools, but several blankets and a small wooden crate filled with .44 factory loaded bullets he set in the back of the wagon. There was a second crate with rifle bullets. With the box empty, he stood there looking at it for a few seconds. Then he looked at Susan. "Might work," he muttered, then jumped down. Looking through the tools laying there, he picked an auger with a half inch drill in it. Back in the wagon, he used it to drill a dozen holes around the sides of the box near the bottom.
Again he jumped down, tossed the auger down and went through the sacks on the ground until he found one with a padlock. The key was conveniently stuck into the bottom of the lock.
All this time, Billy and Susan were standing there, watching him with mixed puzzlement and amusement. Perhaps the desert sun had gotten to him.
Luke tossed the lock onto the wagon, then looked as if he were about to walk over to them when he suddenly stopped and rushed back to a box he had previously discarded. He picked the box up and threw it down upon a rock. It split open. The he was picking up a hank of rope and looking at it. The rope was factory fresh, white and made of braided cotton. It's intent was for wash lines where clothes would be hung out to dry, but it would also be the perfect rope if one wished to bind a young woman. He emptied one of the burlap sacks and filled it with all the ropes, about two thousand feet. He was grinning as he tossed the sack into the back of the wagon.
"You get to ride from now on," he told Susan as he took the noose off her neck.
Susan looked to the wooden box he had fixed with air holes and began to shake her head.
"We've got to go into town to get some supplies," Luke told her. "And then cross the border. You can stay out here, tied to a cactus, or you can ride in the box." He looked at her fearful eyes, and added, "After we get into Mexico, we can let you go. The sheriff can't follow us there."
She looked doubtful. "Won't it be hot and uncomfortable in there?"
"Yeah. But not as much as being tied to a cactus," he told her with a smile.
Susan looked as if she were about to challenge his claim to the use of a cactus as a binding pole, but then shut her mouth. Any man who could kill another man so easily might not object to binding a woman to a thorny cactus.
He helped her to climb up on the wagon, then indicated the box. She looked down into the bare wood floor and sides, and inquired, "Couldn't you just let me ride on the seat? I promise not to say a thing."
"Can't trust you in town. Too much temptation for you to scream for help. Get in."
Doubtfully, she stepped into the box. He guided her down and helped lowered her until she was laying on her stomach. The box was only a little longer than her body, but she had to bend her knees. Luke took one of the hanks of rope, opened it and made a small loop in one end. The rope was fed back through its loop to make a larger sliding loop. That he used to loop her ankles together, then wrapped a dozen turns around them. He cinched that down, knotted it, and then ran the rope up to her still bound in rawhide wrists. He noted that the skin of her wrists was red and chaffed, but passed the rope between her arms anyway and then back to her ankles. He did that several times, then pulled. Her legs bend more and her feet headed towards her hands. When he finished and knotted off the rope, Susan was nicely hogtied. She grunted when her legs were folded the final few inches, but said nothing.
But when he began pulling her skirt up to expose her legs, she certainly did protest, "No!" in a good, loud voice.
He ignored her protests and struggles until he had her skirt up high enough to expose her bloomers. Then he took a hunting knife from his belt and cut off a large section. He also cut a small length of rope from one of the hanks. He rolled up the cloth into a wad and told her to open her mouth. Susan looked at the would-be gag, and shook her head. Also clamped her mouth shut.
"You can cooperate, or I can slap you around a bit," he told her. "Quite a bit, in fact."
Susan frowned. His blue eyes looked serious. But then, they always did. She slowly opened her mouth. There was a look of disgust on her face as her rolled up underclothing was pushed into her mouth. Then he wrapped rope around her head and mouth to hold the cloth in. "Don't want you making noise," he told her. She glared at him.
When he was finished with her binding and gagging, he looked down at her seriously. "Now you listen. We're going to drive into town. We'll be there about half an hour. If you make noise or otherwise attract the wrong attention to us, things might get nasty. If bullets start flying, I promise you that the first one from my gun will go into this box. A .44 slug can go right through this wood and your body, too. Understand?"
Susan nodded her head, looking rather miserable.
"Good." He closed the lid and locked it with the padlock. Inside, Susan could hear the padlock click shut and felt a strange sensation as she realized just how helpless she was. Never in her life had she been tied up, let along gagged. And locked into a wooden prison only a little larger than herself! She could feel the lid pressing against her toes. She wiggled some, but her wrists were still tied securely, and the new ropes were no less secure. She felt a strange mixture of fear and some kind of excitement she didn't understand.
After a while the wagon began moving.
Calexico was a small collection of wooden buildings build around a spring in an otherwise flat, barren desert. On the other side of it lay Mexico and freedom. Luke was happy to see the town. The food had run out that morning and their meager breakfast of hard tack had been a long time before.
"How you figure to get food," asked Billy. "We ain't got no money. That's why we were robbing that there stage."
"I'll take care of that," he told his younger partner. "Just you keep your eyes open for any signs of the law."
"Yeah, sure. Ifen I see the sheriff coming, I'll let you know."
Luke shrugged off the sarcasm and turned his attention to the town they were entering. It was typical: a general store, a dentist, barber shop, four saloons, and a small church stuck a little away from the other buildings as if wishing to shun them. Luke pulled up before the general store. "We get supplies and then out of here," he told Billy. "Guard the wagon. And make sure the horses are all watered."
Billy was looking at the saloon next to the store and licking his lips. "Couldn't we have a little drink first?" he asked.
"And leave our cargo alone?" Luke retorted. "Don't be a fool."
"Well, you all make sure that you get us some whiskey. I hear they serve some stuff called Tea Kill Ya down there, and I want some good, American made whiskey."
Luke went into the dark interior of the store and paused while his eyes grew used to being out of the sunlight. Then he looked around, noting what was carried, and what was not. There was a glassy display case behind the counter, and the rifles there interested him. Neither he or Billy had rifles, and a long distance gun could come in rather handy. He didn't like the idea of shooting it out at long range with a handgun while the other guy had a rifle. There was a name out West for men who were stupid enough to do that. They were called dead.
Satisfied that the things they would need were present, he went back to the wagon, and picked up a couple boxes of pistol and two boxes of rifle cartridges. Inside, he set them on the counter.
"Looks to me like you're a might low on rounds," he said, waving a hand towards a shelf under the rifle case. There were, indeed, only rectangular marks in the dust where boxes of bullets had been and should be.
"You got that right, stranger," said the store keeper, a middle aged, pot bellied man with only a tiny fringe of hair around a head burned dark by the desert sun. "But I'm expecting a shipment any day now."
"I'm willing to trade these for some food and supplies. I'll give you a good trade."
He could see the wheels turning in the store keeper's head, and knew that they would strike a deal. After all, Luke could afford to be generous. The bullets hadn't cost him anything, and he had plenty.
After all the other supplies were in sacks and boxes, he insisted upon carrying them out to the wagon himself. When he placed the last box in the bed of the wagon, he leaned close to wooden box holding a tied up woman. "You just keep doing like you are," he whispered. "We'll be out of town soon and you'll get out of there."
Luke didn't know it, but Susan had moved her face around to where she could see out of one of the air holes. It was hot in the box, the ride had been bumpy, and she was sweating. But she had not tried to make noise or call attention to her presence. She was pretty sure that his first bullet might just go into her prison.
The hole was positioned so that she could see out the back of the wagon between two sacks. It wasn't much of a view, but it made her feel less claustrophobic to be able to see out.
Luke took one last look at the brand new rifles in the case and sighed. He would have loved to buy at least one of them, but the price was too high. A few boxes of bullet only went so far.
Billy was still looking at the saloon when Luke came back out. He stood on the wooden sidewalk and looked around.
There weren't many people in town, but those who were seemed to be taking an unusual interest in these two strangers. Then he noticed the man walking towards the wagon. He was wearing his gun low and tied down, something that triggered alarms in Luke. He might just be someone who fancied himself a gunslinger, or he might be the local law. There was no badge visible.
Luke stepped down to the dirt and was walking around the back of the wagon, about to mount up and get out of that place, when the man spoke.
"Just hold it right there," he said loudly.
Luke slowly turned towards the man. From her hiding place, Susan could see him clearly, and the man two dozen paces beyond. She noticed that Luke thumbed off leather thong off the hammer of his gun when his body shielded the weapon from the other man.
"You fit the description of a man who robbed a stage in Cold Wells and killed a man," he said. His hand was hovering over his gun.
Luke looked him hard at his eyes and didn't like what he saw. This man thought he was good enough to take both of them and was eager to do just that. Luke would have to kill the man.
"That man you killed was the U.S. Senator. There's a big reward out for you." He licked his lips as if the reward tasted good. "Why don't you reach down and undo those gun belts?" His hand moved an inch lower until it was almost touching the handle of his gun.
Luke was still turned partly sideways with his right hand on the wrong side of his body. He would have to draw, turn, aim and shoot while the other man only had to draw.
Luke saw his eyes harden, and knew that he would draw within a second. Which he did, his hand hitting the butt of his gun.
As Susan watched, Luke's hand moved like blur. His body twisted slightly, and he fired from the hip, almost across his body. Susan saw, almost in slow motion, as the other man began to pull his gun from leather. Luke's gun bucked and suddenly the other man was flying backwards. Luke's left hand had been coming over and speedily cocked back the hammer. A second round caught the man in mid-air as he was falling back.
For a few seconds his body lay on the ground, twitching and bleeding from two large holes in his back where the bullets had exited. The smaller holes in front were hardly bleeding at all.
Luke looked around, the gun held upright but ready. Suddenly the street was clear. Billy had his gun out, but long after the action was all over. Luke walked to the wagon, mounted up, and calmly drove the wagon out of town. The Mexican border was marked only by a small wooden sign stuck in the ground. And Mexico was spelled wrong.
There was a road running south, they took it.
Billy seemed in good spirits. "Wow Eeee, you sure plugged that dude!" he proclaimed. "But I would have gotten him, anyway."
Luke said nothing. When you're good enough, you don't have to brag.
"Well, we got away. We's safe now. Ain't no U.S. sheriff gonna come down here to get us."
For a while they road on, then Billy asked, a bit more subdued, "Where we going?"
"There'll be a town at the end of this road," Luke said. "Don't rightly know what beyond that." He looked back to the town growing tiny in the distance behind them. "Don't figure we can go back there."
After the town was well out of sight, they paused to rest the horses and Luke unlocked the wooden box. Susan glared up at him. Her face was streaked with sweat and dust, and her hair a ragged mess. She grunted at him and tried to push out the gag. He untied the rope holding her in a hogtie, then pulled her out of the box, kicked the lid closed with his foot, and set her down on it. He untied the rope holding in the gag and let it ooze out of her mouth. It was wet with her salvia.
"You could have killed me!" she said as soon as her jaw could move properly. "It was so hot in there that I damned near roasted."
Luke lifted one eyebrow at her oath but said nothing. Her clothing did look rather wet. He untied her feet and was considering untying her hands when her anger overflowed. Suddenly she stood up and tried to kick him between the legs. The kick just missed and would leave a bruise on his inner thigh, but did not do the damage she had hoped for. Some kind of wild-assed plan had been running through her head that she could put him out of commission with a kick, then take his gun with her bound hands, and shoot the other one. Then she'd worry about getting her hands untied.
He slapped her hard with an open hand. Her head jerked around, and, with a startled cry, she fell back on her bottom on the box. The side of her face was already turning red.
"You're no gentleman," she whimpered.
"You got that right. And don't you ever try that again." He knelt and retied her ankles together.
After he and Billy had drunk from the canteens, he held one for Susan to drink from. She did so eagerly, glad to get water after a few hours of dehydrating in that sweat box.
"Okay, we're over the boarder," she said a little while later. "You can let me go. I'll walk back to that town."
Luke didn't say a thing. He just sat on the seat, looking back towards the border.
"Did you hear me?" she said sternly. "You promised to let me go as soon as you crossed the border. Or is kidnapping a woman not a crime down in Mexico?"
"It's a crime, but I don't intend to get caught."
"Hummph!"
Luke got down and checked the horses on the wagon. Then he checked Traveler who was tethered to the back of the wagon.
"Would you please untie my hands?" she asked in a much more polite voice. "They hurt." "I'm sure they do." But he climbed up into the wagon and turned her around. The rawhide had almost welded itself to her skin but he worked the knots out and peeled the leather from her wrists.
Susan brought her arms around with a gasp and looked down at the red marks on her wrists. "You hurt me," she said.
Luke tossed the rawhide strip into a bag and picked up the length of rope that had been used to bind her ankles to her wrists. He coiled up that rope and lay it on the box. Then he picked up a sack and brought out a canned tin of peaches. When he opened them, then offered them to her, along with a spoon. Eagerly she dug into them.
He tossed another can to Billy and then took one out for himself. It was one of the finest meals he had ever eaten. Or so it seemed. Hunger always does make the food taste better.
When the girl was finished, he took the can from her and told her to stand and put her hands behind her back. Obviously reluctant, she nevertheless turned and crossed here wrists. "Please don't do it so tightly."
The white cotton rope was much softer than the rawhide, and he had more of it to use, but he wrapped it firmly and cinched it down and knotted it tightly.
"Does this mean that you're not going to let me go?" she asked, feeling a little better having eaten and drank.
"Not right now," was all he would say.
"You're not a man of your word," she told him. "You don't need me for protection anymore, why not let me go?"
"Maybe I like your company," he teased with a grin.
"Well, I don't like yours."
Luke suddenly picked her up and sat her on the bench seat. Then he took the reins and snapped them to get the horses moving again.
Susan was not happy with events, but she did feel better about riding out in the open rather than in that wooden prison, till, she had to wonder about the future.
CHAPTER THREE
Sacrifice
A tiny sliver of the blood red sun had just surmounted the distant peaks and cast a beam of scarlet light upon the top of the stone pyramid where the small party of priests awaiting the coming of the new day.
The air blown dust from a volcano a hundred miles away tinted the sun's light, but those gathered at the top of the stone blocks did not know that. They only knew that the sun god Tonatiu's redness was an omen -a dire omen of terrible things to come if they did not appease the god's anger. So the naked maiden was dragged up the stone steps, a strong guard/priest holding each arm even though her hands had been bound behind her. The young woman's broad features and dark eyes reflected the fear she felt within.
In her village, miles to the west, there were stories about the living sacrifices these horrible people practiced in the name of their sun god and others. And those who were captured in battle or raids never reappeared. Never.
She saw the stone altar and the handful of priests gathered around it, each dressed in feathered and flowery robes. Their faces were covered with masks forming hideous images of demons. Or evil gods. She tired to dig her feet into the steps but was lifted and carried the last dozen feet to the altar. Eager hands grasp her body and lifted her high. Then she was being lowered to lay on her back on the dark-stained stone. She struggled, her brown skin glistening with sweat in the first ray of the morning sun. A dozen hands held her down, spread her legs, and thrust her chest up. One priest stepped forward and lifted the carved obsidian knife, its black, glassy, razor sharp edges tinged with red as he held it high over the naked woman, its point straight down at a spot between her heaving breasts.
With words in their harsh language, the priest evoked the blessing of the sun god and prayed that another day would begin. The woman tilted her head back and screamed in disbelief and fear. The knife swiftly descended and a moment later the priest was holding high a still-beating heart, an offering to Tonatiu and the other gods.
The sun god must have been pleased with the offering, for he rose majestically above the ragged mountains to bless his people with another day of light.
Off to the side, one priest hadn't taken part in the holding down of the naked form. His robe was different, of feathers dyed black. And where the others showed brown skin through the slits in the sides, his skin was white.
CHAPTER FOUR
Something Never Done Before
The town of Nogales was blessed with a railroad. And telegraph lines. Susan was back in her wooden prison box, well bound with ropes, gagged and cautioned to keep quiet. The wagon slowly creaked down the main street, passing saloons (ten), stores (three) and hotels (two). The required adobe church stood at the end of town. The sun was hot so most of the people stayed indoors or under the shade of overhangs along the wooden sidewalk. He pulled the wagon up before one of the stores.
Looking at Billy, Luke decided that the young man couldn't be trusted with those bars so close, so he told him to go ahead and get a drink -to "wet his whistle." But to make it only one and say nothing to anyone. Billy eagerly dismounted and disappeared into the nearest saloon.
Luke lead the horses to the water trough, all the while keeping a sharp eye out all around. A few people looked his way, but no one seemed to be showing a great deal of interest. Which was the way he liked it.
Just then a train hooted and the smoke from its stack could be seen over the buildings,. A minute later the engine protruded from the end of the station, hissed a great deal of steam and settled down. Luke moved to where he could see the station better. There was the usual crowd of people waiting to unload, get on, or just watched the big event in town. But what interested him more was the group of men who disembarked. They all wore side arms and carried rifles. And the dozen of them looked to be hard men, every one. Then he saw a man with Indian braids and shining black hair step down from a car and join on of the band. As he talked to one of them, Luke cursed under his breath, "Challo."
"I hear that's a posse come down here to catch a killer."
Luke turned to the man behind him. He was a gringo, an American, like himself. "The telegraph spreads news faster than a running horse," he continued.
"So I hear," said Luke.
"Seems a man up near Cold Creek killed a U.S. Senator. A big reward has been put up. Those men are Bart Henderson and bounty hunters."
Luke felt his blood run cold. Bart Henderson had a reputation all over the west of getting any man he hunted. "Must be a lot of money to make him come down to Mexico."
"Yeah. A lot," said the stranger.
"Who they looking for?" Luke asked. Might as well know how much the enemy knows.
"Two men. Riding horses and a wagon. Sort of like yours. One man late twenties, the other barely a man." He went with a rough description, but one that fit Luke and Billy pretty good. "They also say that those two kidnapped a woman off the stage. Don't know if they still have her with them or not."
Luke looked hard at the man. Did he know more than he as saying? He didn't look stupid. Luke sensed that he knew well he was talking to one of the wanted men. So why? "Thanks for the information," Luke told him. "You going to o looking for them? Big reward, you said."
"But I'd have to go back across the border to claim it. And 'd rather not do that."
What the man didn't say was more eloquent than what he did. A gringo south of the border who couldn't go back was always a wanted man. And like as not for murder. The man wore his gun low and tied down. Luke nodded his understanding. "Good luck," he told the man.
"Same to you," said the stranger. Then he sauntered off.
Luke went into the bar and practically dragged Billy away from his third whiskey. "We have to be going," he said between clenched teeth. "Real fast."
Billy was already a little slow on the uptake, but he mounted his horse. Luke untied the team and snapped the reins to get them moving. Resisting the urge to whip them into a gallop and rush out of town, he calmly moved down the main street, then turned left at the church. As they were leaving, he saw the band of men unloading horses from train cars. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.
They headed southeast, deeper into Mexico.
"You were trying to kill me!" Susan burst out with as soon as the gag was taken from her mouth. "Do you know how hot it gets in that box?"
She would have stamped her foot angrily had not her ankles still been bound, as were her wrists crossed behind her. Sweat stains streamed her face and her clothes had patches of wet.
"You can at least give me a drink."
Luke untied her hands and allowed her to sit down on the closed box lid before handing her a canteen. Eagerly she drank. The water seemed to have a calming effect on the young woman.
When she handed the canteen back to Luke, she looked around them. It was late afternoon and all she could see where rocks and sand and low hills. The sun was hot even though low on the horizon. Billy and Luke looked as if they had been riding hard, as the bouncy, bone-jarring experience she had been forced to endure had confirmed. They had not spent much time in the town, and had been moving as fast as they could since then. It didn't take her long to figure out a reason.
"Someone chasing you?" she asked. "Down in Mexico?"
"Yeah. Someone's chasing us. Bounty hunters. There's a reward on our heads." Luke explained to both of them about the posse, Henderson, Challo and the reward.
"Shit...." said Billy, which just about summed up the two men's feelings on the subject. "I thought that once we got to Mexico we would be safe."
"From American law, sure. But bounty hunters are another story. Hell, pretty soon word will get around and every Mexican will be looking to catch us and turn us over to the posse. For many pesos, of course."
"So what are you two going to do?" Susan asked. "I could suggest that you let me go. Maybe the posse will turn back if they get me."
"It's not you they're after," Luke explained. "And even if I let you go here, you're many miles from Nogales. You'd never make it back."
Susan looked around the barren landscape and had to admit that he might be right. She was used to the easy life at Miss Marples School for Refined Young Ladies, one of the better such places in Boston.
"Yeah, what do we do, Luke?" Billy growled. "It was you that got us into this. You had to kill that man."
"He pulled a gun and was going to shoot me. I just reacted."
"Well, your just reacting has got us in a lot of trouble." He stood up in the saddle and looked back the way they had come. "Figure they'll ride at night?"
"We better find a camp off the road," Luke said. "Just in case."
Luke untied her ankles and allowed her to sit on the bench seat. "Don't go running off," he told her. "You'll die in this desert, and you can't outrun a bullet anyway." He started up the wagon again.
"Would you really shoot me?" she asked, much more calm this time. Luke didn't reply. "What are you going to do with me?"
"Keep you. If that posse catches up with us, you might be good for bargaining."
"Do you really think that will work?"
"Maybe. If it were the sheriff, probably. But those men I saw getting off the train are hard men. They're used to chasing killers. And killing them when they have to. It's been said that Henderson never brought in a man alive if there reward would be paid for a dead body."
"And are you wanted dead or alive?"
"Probably."
They rode on in silence. Billy scouted several canyons and finally came back with the news that one would be good enough for a camp. By then the sun was painting another of the lovely Western sunsets.
Camp was without water, but they did risk building a fire behind some large rocks. The first hot meal in several days went well with all three of them. Susan ate with free hands gratefully, but was thinking of the coming night.
"You can leave me untied," she suggested. "I won't run off into the desert at night."
Luke gave her one of his penetrating, steely-eyed gazes. It seemed to her that he could read her mind -the one that was planning to run away at the first opportunity, desert or no.
"Stand up," he told her. With a sigh Susan stood and allowed her wrists to be crossed and bound behind her. He laid out a blanket on the ground and motioned for her to lay down.
"Could I walk around a little bit first?" she asked. "I haven't been able to get much exercise tied up and locked in that box."
Luke looked around. The fire was dying and the camp was set for the night. "Okay," he told her and took her arm to lead her away into the desert. After a little bit, he let go of her arm and she continued to walk by his side.
"You were very fast with your gun back in that town," she said. "At least, I think you were."
"I'm good enough to stay alive."
"Does everyone out her draw fast? Everyone seems to carry a gun."
"Some think they're fast. But when they go to prove it, they're usually dead." "Have you killed other men?" "Yeah." "When?"
Luke sighed and stopped to sit on a large rock. Susan found one next to his in the dim starlight, and sat down. "I was a gunslinger for a while."
"You mean like in those dime novels? Fighting gun battles in the main street of town at high noon?"
"Sort of. Many a gunslinger sells his gun to whoever wants to pay for it. I've been hired by cattle ranchers to run out the sheep herders. And by men who wanted someone else killed and didn't have the guts to try it themselves."
"You mean you killed people for money?"
"It was always a fair fight. I even let some of them draw first. And I didn't shoot anyone in the back."
There was silence for a while. Finally Susan said in a soft voice, "I guess I should thank you."
"For what, kidnapping you?"
"No, for not ... Well, you know."
"No, I don't. Oh, you mean ... With you...."
"Yes. You'll have to admit that if you wanted to take advantage of me, I couldn't stop you. Anytime you could have raped me and there was nothing I could do to stop you."
"I don't rape women," Luke said.
"Billy looks at me like he would love to."
"You got that right. But I'll protect you."
"And who will protect me from you?" she asked, coyly.
"I told you, I don't rape women."
"My hands are tied behind me. If you were to try to kiss me, I couldn't do a thing about it."
In the dim light, he could make out her silhouette but not her face. It sounded like an invitation, but....
And it had been a long time since he was with a woman, especially a woman this lovely. He had been aware of her form as she slept the night before. Very much aware.
He stood and took the one step so he was close to her. His hand took her chin and tilted it up. For a second she held her head still, then she turned away. He took her chin more firmly and pulled her head back. Then he bent down and kissed her lips.
He was hungry for sex, true, but this woman was unlike the ones he knew in saloons and whore houses. He kissed her gently, holding back the strong urges to do much more.
Susan was still to begin with, but when his lips had rested against hers for a second, she moan a soft sigh and kissed back. In the dark he could not see, but her hands were twisting against the rope holding them, not in an attempt to escape, but rather to show her how helpless she was.
The kiss broke off and for a while neither said anything. Then he took her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. She did not fight him, nor did she help. Taking her into his arms, he kissed her again. He could feel her heart beating as her chest pressed against his. And the wonderful bulge of her breasts. When the kiss broke, his hand slid down to grab her bottom.
"No, no," she said. But she did not fight him. Her hands continued to slowly twist against the ropes, and the feeling of those tight cords was strangely exciting to the young woman.
His hand lifted her skirt until it could slide under the hem. He was kissing her neck which tasted of salty sweat. As his hand glided up her leg, she moaned, tilting her head back and looking up into the bright stars.
Suddenly he was kneeling down and both hands were lifting her skirt. Then his head went under it and his hands were upon her bloomers. He rapidly pulled them down, exposing her pubic patch to his touch if not sight. With her bloomers down around her ankles, he took her hips in his hands and pushed his face into her furry patch, his tongue lashing out to find and separate the labia. Then it was licking her directly over her clitoris and Susan gasped out loud.
Most men in the west did not know about pleasing a woman in that manner. He had been taught by a prostitute he had been infatuated with for a while. And he was glad he had learned. It drove woman crazy with lust when a man licked them there.
Susan's breathing was coming rapidly now, and she felt a strange burning between her legs. Her hands continued to twist, faster as the heat in her loins grew. What this man was doing to her was something she had ever experienced. Indeed, something she never even knew about. He was stimulating nerves that had never been stimulated in that way before. She spread her legs as wide as the bloomers around her ankles allowed and moaned with pleasure.
It was a surprisingly short time and Susan gasped out her first oral orgasm, something incredibly intense compared to anything she had ever known in her life. Her hips thrust forward to his face, and her arms tugged at the rope binding. She shook her body and arched backwards.
When she came down from the sexual high, she was resting in his arms as he lay with his back against a rock. Her bloomers had been pulled up and her skirt was again reaching down to her ankles. His arm was around her shoulders and it felt good. Strangely, her still bound wrists also felt good somehow proper that they be tied. She was very mellow and felt all warm inside.
"Got to get back to the camp before Billy comes looking for us," Luke said.
"Couldn't we...."
"Another time."
"But that was sooooo goooood!" "Next time I'll screw you properly." "Screw? What do you mean?"
"You know, fucking, sex, bouncing in bed, ramming the pussy, and other names. Most of the men call it fucking or screwing. You didn't know that?"
"I'm a virgin," she said simply.
"Shit," he said, softly.
Many miles to the south and east of them, a different type of sexual act was being performed on a different woman. The man who had worn the black robe during the morning's ceremony had put it aside and was paying attention to the woman in his private room. She was another of the captured maidens, and endless supply of which the land seemed to possess. She was brown-skinned, had long black hair, and those dark eyes. Her body was okay, but he longed for a white woman again.
The priests had brought her to this room and fixed her the way he wanted. Then the left, leaving the young maiden to his pleasure. There was a wooden pole in the comer of the room, a railing of wood, some boxes and a crude bed made of animalskins. The girl had been tied to the pole, but not standing upright as one would expect. Her arms had been bound behind her back with the elbows pulled in and tightly bound. The effect on her huge, heavy breasts was rather nice. Then she had been taken to the pole, and bent over. Her arms were pulled up behind her and laid against the post, then bound solidly against it. This left the maiden with her head down around the level of her thighs and her bottom sticking up in the air. And her breasts hanging down, almost covering her face.
The white man picked up a flogger, a whip made of leather thongs tied to a small piece of wood. Taking a stand behind the naked bottom, he brought his hand up and then quickly down, making the leather thongs slice a pattern across her bare flesh. The girl gasped and uttered some Indian word. He slashed her bottom from side to side, viciously, a half a dozen times. This time the girl screamed. The flogger, you see, had small pieces of flint woven into the ends of the tongs, and those pieces of rock hurt far worse than the leather would ever have by itself. Red lines appeared cross both globes of her rear, each a small ridge swelling up and turning colors. On some of them small drops of blood appeared where the tiny piece of sharp rock had cut the flesh.
She was crying and speaking words that he didn't bother to try to understand. It was a different dialect from the one he had taken so much trouble to learn. And he didn't care what pleas she was making. Her wiggling bottom, frantically waggling fingers, and tears falling to the stone floor told him plainly enough of the pain within.
The next dozen strokes were spread out more slowly, some of the lines appearing on the tops of her thighs. He made sure that the marks wrapped around her hips.
She fought the ropes but could do nothing. A few times she tried to kick backwards but failed to connect. With her rear having very little space untouched, he ceased the whipping. But he was not finished with the woman. Kicking gently against the inside of her ankles, he uttered the word for "move." She understood but did not want to spread her legs wider. He kicked harder and her right foot slipped out. Another kick and her left foot was farther to the side than it had been. Which left that area between her legs much more available. Much more. He tied ropes around her ankles and iron rings set in the floor for just that purpose.
His fingers explored her vagina, finding it extremely lubricated with her juices. Nothing like a good whipping to turn a girl on, he told himself. Then he took a couple fingers of that juice and rubbed it around her asshole. That was repeated a couple times, including pushing some into her. She tried to move her bottom out of range, but the ropes held her. Then he stepped back again, the flogger in his hand.
The strokes were fast and extremely cruel. All four of them were aimed up between her legs and delivered faster than she could react. As the pain was exploding in her most sensitive place, she was trying to close her legs. But there was nothing she could do except to scream. Which she did. Loudly and sincerely, the scream of an injured animal-.
The white man dropped the whip and positioned his rigid rod at the entrance to her anus. Then, with one mighty shove, he was inside her. She screamed again.
He took his time screwing her ass, delighting in the pained sounds that came each time he pounded his body against her ravished flesh. And when his hand found its way between her legs to squeeze her sex, she cried very loudly. It was most delightful.
He left the crying, whimpering woman bound there for a long time, then finally tired of her sniveling and untied her arms from the post, but leaving them bound behind her. He then marched her down a long passage to where the guards were stationed. Tossing her onto the ground before them, he told them to have fun with her before returning her to the temple cell. In the morning, this one would be the sacrifice that would assure another day of life for the people.
They were smiling, and very shortly she was screaming again.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lip Service
Billy had looked at them funny when Luke and Susan returned to the camp, the little walk taking longer than it should have. Later, when Susan was bedded down for the night, he asked Luke point-blank whether he had screwed the gal or not. Luke answered honestly that he had not.
Luke didn't know whether Billy believed him or not, but nothing more was said right then.
Early they broke camp, had a cold breakfast to make sure that a camp fire wouldn't be seen if the searchers were on the trail even earlier than they were.
Susan rode on the seat but her hands remained tied. To make sure she didn't try anything, Luke also bound her ankles. She might succeed in jumping off the wagon, but she would not be going anywhere. She accepted the restraints without comment. In fact, the kidnapped woman seemed to be rather calm and at ease that morning.
"We keep running south, the food will run out. And we don't got no money for more," Billy complained. "We need a better plan."
Luke had been thinking the same thing. A better plan. Something that would allow them to escape the men riding after them. But what?
For several hours they rode along the road, as fast as the horses could pull the wagon at a sustained pace. But it was obvious that any riders behind them would soon overtake them. They weren't pulling a wagon and might even be carrying extra mounts to rotate the horses. Luke pulled the wagon up and stood on seat. Looking back, he thought he saw some dust, but couldn't be sure. Still, for the amount of money on his head, he was sure the bounty hunters wouldn't give up easily.
He unhitched the wagon horses, put the saddle on Traveler, and a crude blanket saddle on one of the wagon horses. Then he untied Susan's feet. He put her on the spare horse, then tied her ankles together under the animal-. Without hands to help her hold on, that rope connecting her feet would help make sure she didn't fall off.
They then filled their saddle bags with as much of the food and ammo as they could, plus every canteen. Luke even tied two sacks together and put them over Susan's mount so they could carry more. He included several hanks of that white cotton rope.
Leaving the wagon, they took off to the east. A short time later, they doubled back to the same place, then left going west. Then they laid down a false trail going south. Finally, Luke led them along the east trail to a place where the ground was rocky and would not hold a hoof print very well. They left the false trail and took off across the rocky stretch.
"Challo will find our trail," Luke explained to Susan as they rode along. "But I'm hoping that our little diversions will delay them a while."
"This horse has a bony back," complained Susan.
"That's nice," Luke told her. Which was a clear enough statement that her comfort wasn't the top priority.
They continued the rest of the day, following the easiest path across the landscape, heading towards where they hoped a town would be. Late in the day, they came across railroad tracks running south, and followed them until it was getting dark, then made a camp in a side canyon. A small fire was risked for the first hot meal of the day.
Afterwards, Billy and Luke got into an argument about the girl.
"Why the hell don't we fuck her?" Billy asked. "She's damned good looking. And I ain't had a gal in a long time."
"Because I say we don't."
"Hell, you're probably already poking her!"
"She's too valuable to us," Luke explained. "We need her in prime condition."
"A little fucking don't hurt a gal none."
"We leave her alone." Luke said it low and quiet, but there was a tone in his voice that made Billy suck in air and shut his mouth. But he was still mad inside that his partner was shoving his rod into that pretty gal and he not getting none. Sweet little piece of ass, that one. But he had seen Luke draw that gun, and if he ever decided to go up against him, it would be sometime when he could shot the faster man in the back.
The next day they continued following the railroad tracks. Luke allowed Susan some time with her hands untied, but kept a close eye on her. When they were on the trail again, her hands were bound behind her back and her ankles tied under the horse. When she complained, Luke told her that the option was for her to be slung across the horse like a sack of potatoes. She shut up.
Then came to a town around noon. Several times they had left the tracks to hide when a train came by, so they knew this was a major line heading south into Mexico, probably all the way to Mexico City.
Leaving Billy guard their captive, Luke wandered casually down into to town to check things out. What he found almost sent him racing back out of town. Henderson and his gang were there, hanging out in front of a saloon. Challo was there, too, and Luke knew he would be recognized by the half breed. He cut between two buildings and got out of town at a trot.
"Shit!" said Billy. It was his favorite word. "How'd they get there before us?"
"I think they just rode straight to this town. Our little false trail did no good, they weren't even tracking us. Guess they figured we would have to head here. And they were right."
"If you let me go down there, I'll tell them that you two headed back north. Then you can really go south," Susan offered.
Billy gave her a dirty look, and Luke considered it. But the bottom line was that he couldn't trust her not to change her mind when she was out of their grasp. Instead he looked at the train sitting in the station.
"We could bypass this town and keep following the tracks south," he suggested. "How long will they wait here before moving on?"
No one had an answer.
In the end, they could only forget about the town and continue south.
The next day they came to the small adobe church set out by itself with only a small grove of trees to keep it company. They could see a couple of padres in brown robes tending a small garden. Again Luke told Billy to stay and guard Susan while he went down to check out the church.
The two padres stopped their work and looked up when he dismounted and tethered his horse before their church. "Hello," he called out. "I was wondering if I could get some water?"
Both padres came forward and as the lead one did, she pushed back the cowl of her robe, revealing a head of blonde hair cut short. "Welcome to the Sisters of Poverty," she said. "Of course you can have water, the well is over here."
The other one pushed back her cowl, too, and had mousy brown hair cut in the same short fashion.
"I'm surprised to find nuns out here, especially such young women" he told them.
"We're missionaries," she said. "Our order believes in going to the poor people of the world and bringing God's word to them."
"How many of you are there?"
"Right now only five of us. Sisters Maria and Constance have go into to San Deguito and won't be back until tomorrow. I am Sister Gertrude and this is Sister Pauline."
"And no men to help you with the work?"
"None. Our order does not allow men to work with us."
Luke turned the handle that brought up the bucket of water. It tasted cool and very good under that hot sun.
"And where's your third sister?" he asked innocently.
Sisters Gertrude and Pauline exchanged meaningful looks. "She is indisposed right now," Gertrude said.
"Yes, very," agreed Sister Pauline.
Luke looked at the amused smiles they were trying to hide and made a decision. Drawing his six-shooter, he pointed it right at them. "I would like you to take me to this indisposed sister."
"Oh...." The sisters seemed flustered, but not so much by the gun as by the suggestion that they show him their sister.
"Please, take what you want. But leave us in peace."
"I don't wish to hurt you. But I do wish to see your third sister."
Again they exchanged looks that spoke volumes, but only to them. Then Sister Gertrude shrugged her shoulders, sighed, and crossed herself. "Please come this way, I will take you to Sister Hortense," she said, then turned to walk around the church building.
In the rear was the living quarters, small and humble. He was led up to one of the rooms where Sister Gertrude stood aside. "She is in there."
Luke kept the gun on the two of them as he pushed aside the cloth covering of the doorway. The sunlight illuminated a strange sight within. Sister Hortense was indeed inside and, indeed, indisposed. Fact was, she was tightly bound with ropes and gagged with cloth tightly tied between her lips. She was also completely naked and hogtied on the bed of the small room. As he took in more details, he noted that there was a rope from those on her hands and feet going up to a wooden pole that was part of the roof, and pulled tight enough to lift her arms and legs off her back. That rope would also prevent her from rolling off the bed. And it must have added to her discomfort, too.
Luke looked back at the two robed sisters. "Sister Hortense is serving penance," one said. The two of them looked embarrassed.
"Penance," Luke repeated in disbelief. "Well ... Whatever rings your bell."
Stepping away from the building, he waved his hand over his head. A minute later Billy came riding up with Susan in tow. The two sisters looked at the bound girl with interest. A lot of interest.
Luke told Bill to cover them, then he went into the small room. Sister Hortense looked up with fear in her eyes. She even struggled a bit, but he had the feeling that she had already done a lot of struggling and proven to herself that it was useless. She was very young and seemed to have a pretty fine body. She was also blushing a vivid red from having a strange man see her in that condition.
It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. There was a pile of ropes on the table. He took them.
"Ladies ... Sisters, I'm afraid we will have to take water and maybe a little food from you. But we will leave everything else alone. And," he paused to grin, "I'm afraid we will have to leave you two indisposed. Please take off those robes."
The two blushed greatly and seemed very flustered. They also kept looking at the rope in his hands. Sister Pauline seemed more fascinated by the rope than bothered by his order. She untied the belt at her waist and had the robe off in a second. Under the course material there was a fine, youthful figure with small but very perky breasts, a very narrow waist, and slender but nice legs. Dropping the robe, she walked up to Luke and turned around, crossing her wrists behind her back.
Luke's eyebrows went up, but he said nothing. He did, however, bind her hands tightly behind her. Then he linked her elbows with rope and tied them snugly. He did not try to pulled the elbows together, but put enough tension in them to keep the girl from working at her bound wrists. Then he patted her bare bottom and motioned for Sister Gertrude to come over. Sister Pauline smiled at this and began testing the ropes.
Sister Gertrude obviously didn't want to take off her robe. "Please," she pleaded. "I am a sister. Do not embarrass me this way."
"Off with the robe, or I'll take it off."
With a sigh, she untied her belt and slipped out of her robe. Sister Gertrude had a much finer body than Sister Pauline, more full, larger breasts, and shapelier legs. She also had some rope already bound to her body. There was a web work of very tight ropes wrapped around her torso, between her legs and looping her rather large breasts to make them bulge out like balloons. The total effect was highly erotic -to say the least.
Luke sucked in air and felt the stirring of lust in his loins. She had one fine body, this sister. But they did not have the time for fun and games. He bound her arms behind her in the same manner as Sister Pauline's. Then he marched them both over to the hitching post. It consisted of two three inch wide poles sunk into the ground with a cross piece on top for tying your horses to. He made them sit down on the bare earth, one at each end. Then he pulled Sister Gertrude's feet around the post and tied them with the ankles crossed so her legs wrapped around the pole. He did the same with Sister Pauline who smiled at him and wiggled her breasts in invitation. Luke sighed.
Quickly the two men searched the church, taking only some food and filling their canteens. Then they mounted up. Luke looked down at the two naked sisters and told them, "You can try to work yourselves free. Maybe you can." The looks on their faces told him they were experienced at such things, and knew they would not be doing that. Not for a long time, at least. "At worst, you'll have to wait until your sisters come back. Tomorrow, you said? Well, have a nice day."
Billy kept looking back at the naked women tied to the posts. "Dang, Luke, why couldn't I get a little piece of ass? It won't take long."
"Those are sisters. You wouldn't screw a nun, would you?"
'They're damned fine pieces of ass," Billy said. "And I ain't got any for a long time. Unlikes you."
"I told you, I didn't screw Susan," Luke said firmly. "And I won't have you screwing nuns. Want to condemn your soul to hell?"
"Shit! I'm going straight there anyways," Billy said with a grin.
A minute later, Bill suggested, "How about making one of them suck me off? That ain't the same as screwing them in the cunt. Huh?"
Luke sighed. But he had been aware of increasing tension between them -mostly over the pretty captive they kept bound most of the time. "Go back," he told Billy, "and ask them where the nearest town is to the south. I forgot to ask."
"Yes, Sir!" Bill yelled, and spurred his horse off.
After a minute of riding slowly along, Susan voiced her opinion, "You're a bastard."
"Yeah. Parents weren't married."
"No, I mean for letting that crude man force those poor woman into an unnatural sexual act. They're nuns, for goodness sake!"
"You didn't seem to mind the unnatural act when I did it to you the other night," he said slyly.
Susan harrumphed but did not reply. In a few seconds the memory brought a smile to her face.
Half an hour later Billy came riding up with a smile on his face. "You didn't hurt them none, did you?" asked Luke.
"Hell, no," Billy bragged. "When I whipped out my pecker, they both begged me to let them suck on it. I had trouble choosing which one to honor. So I let them take turns."
Luke didn't believe him for one second, but he was amused by the frown on Susan's face.
Later, Susan, who was learning how to guide her mount with no hands, came up along side Luke. "Do you think those sisters can work themselves free?" she asked. "Have you been able to?"
"Well, no, but they'll be alone and more desperate. They won't have to spend the night like that, will they?" "Maybe."
"You're a bastard!" "You're repeating yourself."
Susan made a rude noise and let her horse slow down so she backed away from the bastard. She tested the ropes on her wrists yet again, and found them still tightly in place.
"Stupid women," Luke muttered to himself. "This is no land for women alone."
That night, when Billy was suppose to be on guard, Luke awoke to the sounds of a woman's muffled cry. Instantly his six-shooter was in his hand. By the dim starlight, he could see some struggling going on a few feet away. He put away his gun, and struck a match. In the surprisingly bright light, he could see Billy kneeling over Susan's tied up body, his hand over her mouth.
Billy looked up and said, "I was just seeing if she wanted to do it. But she wouldn't keep quiet and listen to me."
Luke stepped forward and one swift punch knocked Billy from off the girl to fall into the dirt. The match had been dropped, so it was dark again, and Billy's hand went for the gun at his hip. But he heard a terrible sound and froze. It was the sound of a hammer being cocked back. "Shit...." he muttered and crawled slowly away, nursing a bruised jaw.
Luke covered the girl back up, and nothing more was said of the incident the next day. But Luke knew that sooner or later he would have to kill his partner.
The barren mountains seemed endless as they worked their way south. Not knowing how close the posse was behind them worn on the men's nerves. And having a very pretty woman with them didn't help either. If Luke had been willing to share Susan between them, events might have worked out differently. But he felt a chivalrous need to protect a virgin from low life men such as themselves. Or maybe he simply liked her and wanted to keep her for himself.
They came to the next town after a long descent down a pass in the hills. Again, Billy and Susan hid in a canyon while Luke went in to check out the town. Before going, Luke made it clear to Billy that the girl was to remain untouched. He glared at Luke but said nothing.
It was a typical small town build because water was there and the trains needed water. Luke carefully scanned each face on the street as he rode slowly along. None of them looked like the bounty hunters. Apparently they had made it to this town before their pursuers. He dropped Traveler off at the stables and paid for food for the horse. Then he went into the nearest saloon for a quick drink and to pick up any news he could.
"Hey, gringo!" someone called out before he even reached the bar. "You one of those bounty hunters?" asked a heavy set Mexican in almost understandable English.
Luke nodded. If they wanted to think him one of his enemies, that was okay. He might learn more.
"I'll have a whiskey," he said, tossing a coin on the bar. The whiskey tasted like coal tar and burned like pure chili peppers.
It cost him a round of drinks, but he learned that the posse was due in town any minute. The telegraph had been used to notify all the towns around to hold any pair of strange Americans who might have a young woman with them.
He also learned that a well known Prince from some European nation was passing through their small town on the way to Mexico City. He had a private car that was currently on a siding by the station. That afternoon it would be added to a train going south. Luke wasn't sure how those facts would help, but it was very interesting. He left them with the impression that he was a scout of the bounty hunters.
Outside, he walked over to the train station and studied the layout for a few minutes. Then he reclaimed Traveler and was gone, keeping a watchful eye for riders coming from the north.
"We can't keep running one step ahead of them," Luke told the other two. "Especially when they can use the telegraph to spread the word faster than the wind."
"So what we gonna do?" asked Billy.
'Take the train."
"Huh?"
"There's a private car going south in about an hour. I say we board it just before the train pulls out and ride it to Mexico City."
"But what about the people who will be in the car?"
"We either keep them quiet for the trip, or kick them off after the train has gone far enough so it's a long walk back."
Billy looked dubious, but could come up with no better plan.
"There's a gully and a bridge just south of the station. The train will be going slowly at first and we can jump on if we hide under that bridge until it comes."
Billy looked more dubious.
"Henderson and his bunch are expected in town today," Luke added.
Billy looked back the way they had come as if expecting to see the riders coming over the rise.
They worked their way around the town and into the gully. There they found a problem. They could come out and jump on the slow moving train, but what about Susan? If her hands were tied, she could hardly catch the railing. And if she were not tied, then she might just run off, leaving them on the train.
"Look," Luke told her sternly. "I'm going to untie you. You will hide with us and jump on the train when we do. If you try to run away, I'll shoot you."
Her blue eyes were intent as they returned his gaze. "Of course," she said slowly. "I don't have much choice in the matter. I'll go with you."
All Luke could do was nod. He would have to trust this girl because he doubted he could actually shoot her. And she probably knew that.
Maybe, he considered, he should leave her under the bridge, tightly bound to one of the pilings and gagged. Eventually she would be found, but not before they were long gone. Then he saw something in those wonderful blue eyes and his decision was made.
They heard the whistle as the train started out. Luke threw his saddle bags over a shoulder and helped Susan up the side of the gully. The engine was passing over them, rattling the whole bridge. Then the short train was almost passed, and they burst out, running to catch the last car. Each car had steps and a railing. With the train only beginning to gather speed, it was easy to get a foot on the step and pull yourself up. Luke kept Susan in front of him and made sure that she was on the tiny platform before he jumped up.
Billy came after him. Quickly, Luke took a short length of rope from his pocket and pushed Susan up against the railing. He grabbed her hands and put them with the top rail between then, then tied them tightly to the rail. "You stay here while we find out what's inside," he told her.
"Like I have a choice?" she replied. But Luke was already opening the door with gun drawn.
The rattle of the couch cars as the train picked up speed didn't quite cover the sounds coming from within the plush private car. Luke passed by an open door that showed a tiny bedroom. Ahead the passage opened to the main room, which was furnished as a drawing room or lounge. There was a tiny bar, a couch along one wall, a couple chairs, two small tables, and one naked woman being beaten.
Luke blinked, but the scene remained the same. There was a good looking, nude woman kneeling on the floor while a naked man stood over her, a whip in his hand. The woman was facing the doorway, so Luke could see how she was crying and sobbing. Her arms had been wrapped around her legs and the wrists tied together behind them, then she was put on her knees so that she knelt with her bottom high in the air.
Suddenly the man looked up. "L'inferno!" he cried. "Esca da qui!"
Luke calmly pointed his gun at the middle aged man, whose hands suddenly went up, allowing the whip to drop to the floor. "Non mi spari! Non mi spari!" he cried. "Sono un Principe!"
Luke waved the gun barrel a couple inches in an indication the man should step away from the woman. He did with a muttered, "Escremento."
While Billy held his gun on the man, Luke untied the woman's hands and helped her up. She was still sniffling and her bottom was covered with vivid streaks where the short whip had touched.
"Sono un Principe," the man said again. "Questo e il mio treno."
"What's he saying?" asked Billy.
"He's telling you that he is a prince and that this is his train."
"Tell him to shut up," advised Luke.
The naked woman drew a finger across her throat and the man shut up. He stood there with both hands covering his private parts and looking very put out.
A quick search revealed that these were the only two people in the car. "How soon before a conductor or waiter comes?" he asked the girl.
"Hours. Milo told them to leave us alone all day. But when dinner time comes, someone will come to take our order."
"He hurt you, Miss?"
She wiggled her bottom. "What do you think?" "Why?"
The girl, who looked to maybe an American, shrugged her shoulders and said, with a sigh, "Because he pays me."
"Huh?" Luke and Billy both said at the same time.
"Don't look so surprised. Didn't you know there are whores who let men treat them rough? For a good price, of course."
"Well, I'll be," said Billy in awe.
Luke looked out the window at the desert rushing by. "Well, miss, I'm afraid that we're going to have dump you and the prince here off the train. It will be a long walk back to that town. And you're both naked."
The woman smiled at Luke. "Isn't there some way we would work this out so I don't have to?"
"Well, you can stay until we get off the train. But you'll have to be tied up and gagged so you don't give us away."
She smiled again, then turned and crossed her wrists behind her back. Luke bound the wrists there with the same rope he had just taken off her.
"Lei non puo fare quello!" the man cried from the far corner of the car. "Non la tocchi. Questo e un oltraggi!"
Billy stepped forward and shoved the gun barrel under the man's nose.
"Sono Principe Sciocco," he said meekly. "Non spari."
When he was finished binding her wrists, the woman calmly walked over to the couch, sat down and crossed her legs. Then she looked with interest to see what would happen next.
Luke waited until he was sure the train was at least a dozen miles from town. Then he opened the door and checked. Susan was tugging at her arms but still tied to the railing.
He untied her hands, then tied them again, still behind her. When she came into the coach, the naked woman already there lifted one eyebrow as a faint smile tugged at her lips. Susan lifted one eyebrow and did not smile.
"Come on Princie," Luke said. Gestures with the loaded guns made up for the lack of language skills. The Prince walked across the room, looking both angry and embarrassed at the same time. On the platform he stood there, still covering his privates.
"Jump," said Luke.
The Prince looked at the sand speeding by, and the occasional rock and cactus. He didn't want to go. "Lasci che io abbia i miei vestiti," he pleaded.
Luke leaned against the wall, planted a boot on the royal backside, and pushed. The Prince flew off the train with a wild cry of distress. When last seen, he was bouncing along side the tracks.
Susan had taken a seat on a chair directly opposite the naked woman. Her look clearly asked what the hell was going on, but not a word escaped her mouth.
"What's your name," Luke asked the naked woman.
"Gina."
"Gina. Okay, Gina. We're going to ride this train all the way to Mexico City. You'll be let go there."
"So does she," he replied. Susan looked shocked that he should suggest such a thing. "As I said, you'll be left in the car when we leave. Tied and gagged, of course."
She smiled at him. "Of course. And you're going to keep me tied up all that time?"
Luke nodded. "I've found that women are easier to control when they're tied up."
"Well...." she looked sweetly at him, taking in his lean, hard body. "...I've been paid for, might as well get the Prince's money's worth." There was no doubt what she meant by that.
Since she was a rather nice looking woman with a little bit stocky but very sexy body, Luke was interested. Susan frowned. Billy grinned from ear to ear.
There was a bedroom off the main room, not very large but equipped with a soft bed. Luke picked up the naked and tied woman in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Just before he closed the door behind him, after dropping the sexy bundle on the bed, he told Billy that he could have her next. And to make sure that Susan kept her clothes on. It was his way to telling Billy to keep his hands off her.
He did note the serious frown on Susan's face. And he didn't miss the scowl on Billy's. Still, he had to maintain his leadership or there would be bloodshed for sure. Billy was not his equal, and he had to make sure Billy didn't forget that. But he would let him have at this Gina, which should satisfy the Southerner.
Meantime, there was a delightful and soft woman laying on the bed, purring, seeming very pleased that her hands were tied behind her. Luke drove into some serious lovemaking.
CHAPTER SIX
Fun and Games on the Train
An hour later Luke came out buttoning up his shirt. Behind him, a sated and very satisfied Gina lay on the bed, her bound hands under her back and her legs spread wide. There was a contented grin on her face.
Billy immediately rushed past Luke and slammed the bedroom door shut. Luke went to where Susan was still sitting on the chair. There were tear stains on her cheeks and one side of her face was red. "Did he hurt you?" Luke asked.
"He wanted me to suck his ... Well, you know," she said. "I refused. He got a little rough and slapped me. But when I cried out, he stopped. I think he was afraid of you coming out and finding him slapping me around." She looked up at him with eyes a little blood shot from crying. But there was something else in her look, something Luke couldn't quite figure out.
"When we get to Mexico City, we'll leave him," Luke told her. "He's bad news. But good in a gunfight. I saw him once outdraw two men and kill both."
Susan frowned. "Are you faster?"
"Yes," was all Luke said. It wasn't bragging, just a statement of fact.
"I don't like him. He gives me the creeps." "I'll protect you," Luke told her.
A few minutes later, she asked him, "Why did you go in there with that girl?"
"A man has needs," he said simply. "And, like she said, she was already paid for."
Susan was of mixed feeling about watching Luke carry that naked woman into the bedroom. Part of her wanted it to be her who was tied and in those strong arms. But part said that it would be wrong for her to lose her virginity to anyone but her husband -whenever she had one, that is. And a little part of her was still mad that he had kidnapped her and treated her so roughly.
Luke was investigating the contents of trunks and a closet. The clothing tended to be garish in colors and almost feminine in the amount of silk. There were lounging robes of purple and red, silk shirts in soft pastels, and some pairs of satin pants that must have been terribly tight on the Prince. There was also a small bag filled with items of restraint and punishment. He held up a pair of silver handcuffs. They were very solid looking, better than any he had ever seen a lawman carrying, yet highly polished and a work of art in their own right with engraved vines and flowers covering most flat surfaces. There was a small key sticking out of the hole. He pocketed the key.
There were more ropes, another pair of handcuffs, but with a longer chain, about twelve inches. He stood there, looking at that pair, trying to figure out why someone would want such a long chain on handcuffs. Then Susan spoke up, "Legirons."
She was right, they would fit on a woman's ankles and permit her only tiny steps. Luke went to Susan, knelt down and placed the shinny silver cuffs around her slender ankles. They fit like they were made for her.
"Wonderful," she commented dryly.
He untied her hands and placed the handcuffs on them. Her hands were still secured behind her, but she had more comfort and freedom than when they were tied.
"Walk around a bit," he told her.
Susan gave him a dirty look, but stood up. Uncertainly, she took a step. And almost fell flat on her face. "Smaller steps," he told her. She glared back but said nothing. The next step was smaller. Still she snubbed her ankles and made the next one even smaller. Soon she was shuffling around the room in tiny steps that made her look silly.
"Satisfied?" she asked sarcastically. "Your prisoner is shackled like some desperate criminal."
"And I like it that way," he commented.
Susan didn't know why, but the statement made her feel good inside. She fought down the feeling by reminding herself that she had been kidnapped and might be raped at any time. Chances are she would have been by now if that other hussy hadn't been on the train.
Susan sat down. She stretched her feet out in front of her and examined the legirons. They were pretty, she had to admit. All shinny and engraved quite beautifully. She noted that there was very little slack in the gap between the metal and her ankle. When she had to stand, they had tightened up until they were snug all the way around.
Luke watched her admiring her restraints with an amused smile on his face. She was apparently unaware that she was smiling to herself and licking her lips.
When she tired of that, he stretched his legs out before him, and settled back into the comfortable seat. Outside the barren country sped by at a terrific pace. The rocking motion of the car and the constant click-clack sounds were tranquilizing.
Suddenly Luke was snapped back to the present by Susan speaking. He had almost fallen asleep. "What was that?" he asked.
"I said, does it really feel all that good for a woman to use her mouth on your ... Well, you know what?"
"Damned right it does," he told her honestly. "Probably as good as it was when I used my tongue to lick your pussy."
"That good...." She wasn't being sarcastic, but rather remembering how wonderful that tongue lashing had been.
She felt a shiver race down her spine at the thought.
"It would seem to me that having to do that would be degrading," she ventured. "And unpleasant. And taste terrible. My mom always said that good girls don't do that. Along with many others things they should never do. She said that...."
"Oh, shut up," he interrupted. "Or I'll teach you right now what it tastes like."
Susan shut up but a tiny part of her mind cried out, 'Talk! Annoy him! Do it!"
Instead she turned her head away as if finding the whole conversation vulgar and beneath her.
The train sped on.
The waiter knocked on the door of the private coach. A few seconds later it was opened by a beautiful, dark -haired woman wearing almost nothing. The silky nightgown showed far more of her curves than would ever have been considered polite for public display, but the male waiter didn't seem to mind. He simply stood there, mouth hanging open, as his eyes drank hungrily of this gorgeous doll.
"I suppose you want our dinner order?" Gina asked sweetly. Then she gave him an order for enough food for four people instead of the two of them. "Aren't you going to write it down?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." He had to ask her to repeat it.
With the order taken, there was no reason for him to stay at the door of the private car, his tongue hanging out. "Bye," Gina whispered, and slowly closed the door in his face.
Gina turned to Luke, who was sitting on the couch, clad in one of the Prince's purple robes, holding a newspaper up before his face. "Fine?" she asked.
"Fine," he replied.
"Good," she said as she swayed her bottom across the room to where he was. "Then I guess you'll have to tie my hands again." It didn't sound as if she were dreading that prospect. In fact, she untied the slender cord around her middle and look off the nightgown. Then she turned and presented her crossed wrists for the cords.
Billy and Susan came out of the bedroom. Susan, still wearing the handcuffs and legirons, of course. Susan took one look at the naked again and tied again Gina and sniffed disdainfully.
When the train made stops for water and fuel, they lowered the shades and keep inside the car. Finally dinner came, and Billy and Susan had to retreat to the bedroom again while two waiters brought it in and set it out on a table. As soon as they were gone, Billy came out and attacked the feast. Susan looked it over and found herself rather hungry. Of course, there was the little problem of her hands being locked behind her....
Luke was feeling in a good mood. He unlocked her handcuffs, but left them dangling from one wrist as a reminder. Susan ignored them and set about loading a plate with roast beef, carrots, mashed potatoes, and green beans.
Gina, on the other hand, found herself getting her ankles locked in the handcuffs freshly taken off Susan. Only then were her hands untied so she could eat. No one said a word about her nudity, but Susan obviously disapproved of it.
Later, Luke had to don the silk robe again while the waiters cleared off the table. Gina provided a show for them by sitting on the couch in her nightgown and crossing and uncrossing her legs. They never seemed to notice that her hands were tied behind her back. They also never noticed that the Prince really didn't look like the Prince, their eyes were busy elsewhere.
The train moved on through the black night, stopping now and then at small towns for water and wood. Billy took Gina to bed again, something which Gina didn't seem to mind at all, although she did cast a little frown towards Luke as if she wished it were him instead of Billy.
"Is that all you two are going to do?" asked Susan in a huff. "Fornicate with that woman day and night?"
"Can you think of a better thing to do?" he asked with an evil little grin.
"Men!" spat Susan, then she turned her face away and pretended to be interested in the passing darkness.
Sleeping arrangements were simple. Gina's hands were left tied, and her ankles also bound. She and Billy got the couch to sleep on. Luke took Susan into the bedroom and closed the door.
Susan eyed him wearily as he took off his boots.
"I'm not going to screw you," he told her.
"What's the matter? Too much screwing all day?" she asked sarcastically.
"No, I could do it. I thought you didn't want it. Being a virgin, and all."
Susan frowned. He was right, of course, she didn't want to loose her virginity. But still ... Oh, bother! She was confused about her feelings.
But the one thing she knew was that there was a heat burning in her loins and blood. Watching that hussy Gina prance around naked or nearly so, and with her hands tied behind her back, had a strange effect on Susan. And knowing that the dark -haired girl was being actually fornicated by those two men did little to calm her hormones down. Vivid images of what was happening inside that bedroom were troubling her mind.
But she had always believed that a good girl keep her virginity so she can present it to her husband on their wedding night. This Gina obviously hadn't done that, and that made her some kind of low life in Susan's eyes. Or so she told herself she should be thinking. Truth was, she envied Gina. Gina had looked so incredibly contented and satisfied when Luke finished with here. That girl was having all the fun!
"Luke, may I ask a favor?" she heard herself say.
He looked up from where he was discarding his socks. "Sure, fire away."
"Would you please do that thing to me." She was quite nervous. "Like you did the other night."
"Horny, huh?" He was smiling.
"I just ... I mean, I ... Oh, hell!"
"Don't say anything," he told her. "Not a word. I'll take care of everything."
The handcuffs and legirons were on Susan, but not for long. He took the tiny key and unlocked her wrists. "Take your blouse off," he ordered. Feeling her feet still shackled, she knew that she could not flee. Besides, she didn't feel like running. She unbuttoned her blouse and took it off.
"And the skirt."
It was embarrassing to take her skirt off, but she did. She left it encircling her feet. All that was left between her nudity and this man's gaze was a white cotton shift and bloomers. He pointed at the shift.
Susan hesitated. She had wanted the wonderful pleasure he had granted before, but had assumed that he would simply rise her skirt and kneel down to do it. She hadn't figured on him requiring her to be naked. Since the age of six she had not been naked before any. man, not even her father. To take her clothes off before someone who was almost a stranger was not easy.
Susan concentrated on how wonderful it would feel to have his tongue licking her private place again. She divested herself of the shift, and the bloomers, too, without being told to. Then she was standing there naked before a man she should hate. There was a powerful urge to cover her pubic patch and breasts with her hands but she resisted. Let him see. She had a fine body and knew it.
Luke also knew that this was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. That figure! The curves that were gentle yet firm. Those large breasts that stood so very firmly out. The narrow waist, the flare of her hips ... And those legs! Wonderful!
Just as she had to force herself to not cover her body, he had to force himself back to the task at hand. He turned her around and bound her hands behind her with rope, but with the palms facing each other. Then he looped another rope around her elbows and pulled them together. It was a bit snug but they touched and were quickly wrapped and tied that way.
Susan had not expected this at all. Having her elbows pulled in like that was a surprise, and an uncomfortable one. As she felt her shoulders pulled back, she also felt her chest pushed out. And the ropes were to tight!
Luke unlocked the legirons, and pushed both them and the skirt aside, allowing her to step out of it. Susan felt faint. It was a stress to have her arms pulled back so, and there was this strange excitement heating up her body. She was so very much aware that she was helpless before this man. Her arms were useless for anything. She was naked. He could spread her legs and ... Do anything he wanted. It sounded terrible, but was somehow incredibly exciting to her.
When his hand touched her side, it sent a tingle racing through her body. Then he was guiding her down onto the bed and she was certain that he was going to fornicate her, rob her of her flower and ruin her as a proper woman. Then why was she not scared?
He placed her on the back on the bed, forcing her to lay on her bound arms. Then he spread her ankles and looped a piece of rope around each. They were tied to the bottom corners of the bed, forcing her legs wide apart. He looked down at her and grinned. "Feeling helpless?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered. The wide openness of her sex and inability to close her legs was a powerful aphrodisiac. She found herself panting and was amazed to see her breasts standing up very rigidly and taller than she had ever seen them. She had to look between them to see him climbing on the bed between her legs. She closed her eyes and braced herself for revishment.
His touch was gentle as he fingers spread her labia. Then he slid forward a bit and gently touched his tongue to her clitoris. Susan jerked as if hit with an electrical shock. "OH!" she gasped.
He worked slowly but her body was reacting rapidly to the stimulation. In only a minute or so she was wiggling her hips, tossing her head from side to side, and moaning. He pushed his hands down and together to make her mound push out towards his tongue. Then he lashed her with this tongue in a frenzy of stimulation that would drive any woman crazy with lust. She gasped, cried out and started to go rigid all over.
Sensing the timing was right, he clamped his lips over her clit, and sucked hard. Susan cried out as if in pain and shivered all over. Then her body went rigid with the hips thrust up. She was making funny, strangled sounds in her throat as she was racked by an orgasm that not only far exceeded her first one, but exceeded anything she could imagine.
She shook all over and tried to curl up into a ball. She moaned and then thumped her hips against her bound hands and the bed. Luke stood back to watch. And it was a show worth watching. He had to shake his head in disbelief that a woman could feel something so intensely. It was wonderful.
She took a while coming down from that high. About half an hour. In the meantime, he had undressed himself, untied her ankles and gotten both of them under the covers. When Susan again because aware of her surroundings, she found her naked body pressed against his with his strong arm around her shoulders. Her arms were still bound behind her, very tightly, but that didn't seem to matter.
Sensing that she was awake again, Luke asked her, "Do you want your arms untied? The elbows together is a little rough."
"Just leave them," she said dreamily. "They're fine."
He smiled in the dark and held her a little closer. It was so nice to have this woman in bed with him. Maybe, when he wasn't so worried about the bounty hunters chasing him, he would reconsider his respecting her virginity. It would be so wonderful to be inside this gorgeous woman!
They fell asleep with his arm around her.
Many miles to the south and east, another woman was bound with ropes in a similar manner. But she was not enjoying the warm afterglow of good lovemaking. She was suffering.
Flickering torch light illuminated the stone courtyard before the massive Temple of the Sun. Smaller temples and buildings were out-lined against the sky with only an occasional torch and the stars to light the night. A few patches of light moved in the distance, runners or others with some mission to perform. But in the courtyard there were four torches planted in four short stone pillars forming a square around the captive maiden.
The woman had been taken from another tribe only two days before, and had not yet obtained the defeated, downcast appearance of a captive who had been in captivity long enough to know her fate and to loose hope. She still looked around with fear in her eyes, sot really understanding, and not knowing that her fate would be ultimately to be tied to the stone altar atop the Temple of the Sun and have her heart cut from her body and held up to the first light of the sun god. It was an honor, but most of the captives didn't seem to understand that. Their sacrifice would assure another day continued in the existence of the world.
This woman was serving as a sacrifice to a minor deity, Xochiquetzal, the goddess of love and flowers, and her sacrifice was not to have her heart ripped from her body, but to endure pain. As with most of their gods, Xochiquetzal enjoyed human pain. Suffering and agony were pleasing to the gods. So these Indians made sure that the gods had enough human suffering to keep them happy. Unhappy gods did nasty things to their people. They withhold the rain needed for crops, or sent volcanoes to plague the land, or made them be defeated in battle.
The young maiden had been stripped naked then bound with her arms behind her back much as Susan in the south bound speeding train was at that moment, the elbows pulled tightly together. Then she had been held while one of the priest smeared a liquid made from crushed comezon asesino, a vile yellow flower that grew deep in the jungle, all over her breasts and into her vagina. Then he coated her thighs and sides with the ugly greenish-yellow liquid.
She was then carried to the middle of the square where there for four iron rings set in the stone pillars. Her ankles were grabbed and rope looped around each, then they were tied to two opposite rings, leaving her sitting there with legs spread wide.
Some of the priests said ritual prayers over her, telling Xochiquetzal this woman's suffering was for her and hoping that she was pleased with it. Then they left.
The woman struggled for a bit with the ropes but found that she could not defeat them. And as she was fighting to pull her feet free of the ropes, she began to feel what the Indians called "dolor de la flor amarilla" or pain of the yellow flower. A burning and itching began in the sensitive membranes of her vagina, but spread to all the areas where the liquid had been smeared. A frown crossed her face as she wiggled her bottom. Then she looked down at her black pubic patch in disbelief. A terrible itching was beginning, something she had not expected but sensed would become a torture. And she was right. The itching grew and grew. The desire to scratch also grew. But her hands were tightly bound behind her back and could only reach a few small patches on her flanks. She could not reached down between her legs where the desperately wanted to scratch.
A few of the priests came back now and then to watched her strange dance of pain as the itching and burning became something more intense than any human can believe. She was shifting her bottom against the stones to rub it against that hard surface. Sometimes she even bounced up and down. Other times she frantically fought the ropes, tugging and straining until her face was covered with sweat and she was groaning. She shook her body violently as if to shake the itching from her breasts. She lay back on her bound arms and twisted to try to rub her breasts against the stones. Then she would sit up again and try to bend forward to rub them in front. Neither plan worked very well.
Later she was crying out in agony, begging to be untied so she could scratch herself. Had someone taken pity on her and untied the ropes holding her arms behind her, it is likely she would have clawed her pussy and breasts until they were bleeding. And even not stop then.
The white man who seemed to be in command came by to watch. For a long time he simply stood there, observing her torment. Out of pure desperation, she lay back down then arched her body upwards until only her heels and head were supporting her. Her fingers frantically reached for her pussy, straining to touch that place that burned with a horrible fire. But she could not, and fell back to the stone floor to sob and moan.
The white man had seen a woman killed by this means once. She had been unfaithful to her husband, or something, and was sentenced to death. They staked her out in this same square and smeared her whole body with that comezon asesino. Every time the juice seemed to be loosing its potency, they would coat her again. Even her face and in her ears was coated, between her toes and in her ass. Nothing was left untouched. He had watched as she strained against the ropes holding her spread-eagle, fingers shaped into claws as she frantically fought. Her screams continued for a long time, echoing off the stone temples, and sounding more and more desperate. At times she tried to lift her body and pound herself against the stones.
At that time, he had only learned some of the language and didn't understand everything she screamed. But he did understand when she was pleading with them to kill her and put her out of her misery.
After two days she just lay there, eyes wide open and glassy, staring up into the blue sky. Even fresh applications of the juice failed to evoke a response. Finally she died after a day of babbling nonsense and thanking the gods that her torment had cleansed her soul.
It had been an impressive display of cruelty by the Indians he had fallen in with. And the fact that he had enjoyed it only made him more and more grateful that he had stumbled upon this hidden valley and these people.
The woman currently staked out in the square was wiggling and straining against the ropes in a most delightful manner.
She looked to him with both puzzlement and pleading in her eyes. Apparently she had never seen a white man before. "Please, I burn. I die!" she begged. "Untie me."
He said nothing. But he did stand there to watch her suffer for a long time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sacrifice to the Moon Goddess
Susan was sore when she awoke the next morning. Luke was not in bed, and she was still tightly bound with her elbows tied behind her as well as her wrists. Surprisingly, her hands were not numb, but her shoulders and elbows hurt. She got out of bed and was about to open the door to go into the main room when she remembered she was naked. And there probably was that Gina and Billy out there. Gina she didn't mind so much seeing her naked, she considered her figure to be superior to the dark -haired girl. But she did not want Billy to see her. That man gave her the creeps.
Settling back down to the bed, she sighed and resolved to wait for Luke to return for her. He was aware, after all, of her condition and would surely not wish her to suffer.
The train was still gently rocking and the constant click-clack noise of metal wheels on the tracks told her that they were still moving. She thought she heard some noise and voices on the other side of the door. For a moment she feared that perhaps something important had happened. Like Luke and Billy being arrested. Freedom! But a part of her didn't want that. What he had done to her the prior night had been nothing short of wonderful. Susan stretched her naked body out on the bed and spread her legs wide. For a minute she fantasized that Luke was there, and he was about to kneel between her legs and enter her body with that wonderful rod he had between his legs. She hadn't seen it yet, but she was sure that it was wonderful in size and shape and hardness. She closed her eyes and imagined that her labia was being parted and the blunt head of his rod was gently pushing at the entrance to her love tunnel. The monster slowly and lovingly forced apart her flesh as it slid into her, filling her with a wonderful joy.
"Day dreaming?" came a voice to yank her back from the fantasy.
Her eyes snapped open and she quickly pulled her legs together. Luke was standing by the open door, smiling. Beyond she could see part of the main room, and Gina and Billy were sitting down to a breakfast. Suddenly the food smell came into the bedroom, and Susan realized she was ravenous.
But when she swung her feet over the edge of the bed, Luke started to leave. "No, don't go!" she exclaimed. "I want to eat breakfast, too."
"Then come on out. Gina, if you will notice, still has her hands tied behind her back. Billy is feeding her breakfast." "But I can't go out there naked!"
"Why not? Gina's naked." He was smiling at her, enjoying himself.
"I ... Oh, don't do this to me. Please ... ?"
It must have been the innocent little girl look in her eyes, or perhaps the wonderful way her breasts stood out proud and firm, but he softened. "Okay," he said, and closed the door.
Susan groaned when the ropes were peeled from her flesh. "Oh, that feels funny." Her hands Were tingling with pins and needles even though she hadn't thought the circulation had been cut off. "My shoulders hurt. Next time, I won't tell you to leave my arms tied."
"You're my captive. I'll tell you when you get tied or untied."
Susan looked into his eyes. He was serious, but it wasn't in any way harsh or mean. She felt a warm feeling wash over her. This man considered her to be his, and although she should still be mad at him for kidnapping her, there was something very nice about the idea of him tying or untying her when he wanted, not when she told him.
"Yes, sir," she said meekly.
He looked at her, then slowly smiled. Her arms were totally free, but she did not resist when he leaned over and kissed her fully upon the lips. She responded and the kiss lasted a long time. It also spoke volumes of non-verbal communications between those two.
He stood while she got her clothes back on. But just as she was about to head for the door, he put a hand upon her arm to stop her. There was that lovely pair of handcuffs dangling from his finger. "Do you have to?" she asked.
"Remember what I said?"
"Yes, sir." She put her wrists out in front of her, and he locked the shinny cuffs on them. Then they went out for breakfast.
The trip from the American border to Mexico City takes about three days and covers a thousand miles. During that time, the four of them stayed in the private car, shunning any chances to detrain at stops. Gina talked to the conductors while Luke sat in the background, wearing one of the Prince's robes and with his face buried in a newspaper or book. When not being their "front", Gina spent her time with her hands tied behind her back, a condition she seemed to like, and often as not, completely naked. Billy took a liking to her and, although she didn't seem too hot on him, at least tolerated his sexual advances. But then, she was a professional prostitute and used to being nice to strange men.
Susan spent most of the time wearing the handcuffs and often the legirons, too. She didn't seem to mind them as much as earlier. At night, she and Luke shared the bed, Susan with her hands tied behind her. They didn't bind the elbows together after that first time, and she awoke in the morning without the aching shoulders and elbows. Their sexual activities were limited to fondling and, when the excitement reached a fever pitch, Luke's forcing his way between her legs to lick her into an orgasm that satisfied her very well.
When she thought about it, she wondered why he hadn't entered her with that obviously ready and rigid rod. She would have been unable to stop him, being naked with her hands tied behind her and all, and she wasn't sure she would have even tried. She was become more and more attached to this man, enjoying their sharing of the bed more than she had ever enjoyed anything. The thought had even occurred to her to tell him that it would be all right if he were to use her that way. But her upbringing prevented her from being so open about sexual things. A proper young lady simply did not tell a man other than her husband that she wanted sex. It simply wasn't done.
With the possible exception of Luke, the party arrived in Mexico City sexually satisfied and ready to get out of that car. Luke left first, scouting the station and looking for signs of possible trouble. Which he found immediately. A band of Federal Troops were -lined up on the platform and were inspecting everyone who left the train. The telegraph had, once again, outsped the train. Luke retreated to their private car.
He did note a conductor arguing with one of the officers, including hand gestures in the direction of the private car at the end of the train. It didn't take a genius to figure that the conductor was saying that the Prince should not be disturbed. But whether or not he would prevail remained to be seen.
"We have to get out of here," Luke told them. "The Federates are outside. Apparently the Prince made it back to that town and alerted the authorities. As soon as that officer overrides the conductor, they'll be in here in force."
Quickly, Luke knelt and unlocked the legirons from Susan's ankles. But he left the handcuffs joining her wrists behind her. Grabbing Gina, he hustled her into the bedroom.
She was naked and her wrists tied crossed behind her, so all he had to do was wrap her ankles and then bind them to the wrists in a quick but tight hogtie. "I told you we would let you go when we got here," he told her. "Good luck."
"Same to you," she said. "Ouch, you don't have to do that so tight."
"You have to look as if you were kidnapped and forced to do the things you did." He patted her bare bottom and departed, closing the door behind him.
Billy had his saddle bags and was standing by the back door, one hand resting on his gun. Susan was standing there, looking worried.
"It may be best if we were to split up," Luke told Billy. 'They're looking for two men and a girl."
Billy looked to Susan then to the bedroom. "Yeah, sure," he said. Then he cracked open the door and peeked through. While he was doing that, Luke draped a woman's coat over Susan's shoulders, a coat long enough to hide her joined wrists. Then he picked up his saddle bags and a small suitcase of the Prince's that he had packed with things that might be useful.
Then they were out the door and heading away from the train opposite from the platform. They had to cross numerous tracks and weave their way between huge railroad cars, but there came no sound of pursuit from behind them. On the other side of a large storehouse, Luke paused to catch his breath. He still held Susan's arm.
As they paused there, Susan asked him, "Why leave this handcuffs on me? I promise I'll behave."
"If we're caught, it will show them that you were and still are an unwilling captive. That way there's no chance anyone will think'you had anything to do with our crimes." Susan had to agree that his logic was right. To any authorities, she was a kidnapped hostage. But then she blushed when he added, "And I like you that way." It made her feel good inside.
"What!" exclaimed Luke suddenly.
"What?" asked Susan.
"I think I just saw Billy going back towards the car." "Why would he do that?" "Gina," answered Luke simply.
"But he'll...." Susan's sentence was cut off by the sound of gunfire.
"Let's get out of here," Luke hissed, taking her arm again and hauling her off.
Fortunately there are a fair number of gringos in Mexico City, so an American man and woman didn't stand out. Luke stopped on man on the street to inquire, "Por favor, donde esta un establo?"
"Cinco calles sur, en Calle de Victoria."
"Gracias."
"De nada."
They transverse the five streets southward and found Calle de Victoria. There were a several stables. Luke picked the largest and best looking one, then while Susan stood by, trying not to look as if she were handcuffed under that coat, he arranged to purchase two fine looking horses. Saddles were added, some of the finely tooled Mexican saddles, blankets and all the necessary tack.
The only problem came when everything was ready for them to leave. How to get Susan up on her horse when she had no hands to use. Finally, he had to ask for a step ladder and help her up, during which process her joined hands became visible to all.
"Yo soy un marisial de Estados Unidos," Luke lied. "Ella es mi prisonera. Yo estoy tomando su atras a mi pais."
A few men looked skeptical, and a couple smiled knowingly, not caring if he was an official or not, but understanding the enjoyment of keeping your woman chained up.
Luke got out of there at a leisurely pace, even though he wanted to run. "Sooner or later someone will tell the authorities about a couple with the girl handcuffed," he told her "And then the troops will be back on our trail."
"I told you that you could leave the handcuffs off," she said with a grin. "I'll be a good girl." "The handcuffs stay."
With that pronouncement, they headed out of town. On the way out, Luke stopped at a general store and bought provisions for a long journey. A second set of saddle bags went on both horses, along with sleeping rolls. Susan sat quietly in her saddle all the time. Then they were off again, with Luke leading her horse by its reins.
Since they were on the south side of Mexico City, it was easy to continue in that direction. Luke considered doubling back north but decided that the farther away from the border they were, the safer they would be. Of course, he had no way of knowing how determined the posse would be to fine them. There was a fair amount of money on his head. They rode on.
That night they camped a ways off the main road, then settled down for the night. The handcuffs were replaced with rope on crossed wrists because Susan said she slept better and more comfortably that way. For a long time they huddled under the blankest, looking up a the brilliant stars, Luke's arms around her. Susan fell asleep feeling very comfortable.
Farther to the south and east, another woman was not feeling so comfortable as Luke's hostage. In fact, she was downright miserable. But the fate of captive maidens from other tribes was to be miserable. In this case, she was hanging by her ankles over a pool of water, and had been since early morning. The dark skinned maiden had been stripped naked and her arms bound behind her, then walked to the edge of the large circular hole in the ground. A good hundred paces across, the perfectly circular depression was filled with calm, deep blue-green water. Then her ankles were tied and a rope attached to them. A long rope had been strung out across the hole between two stout trees. To that rope the one from her feet had been tied. Then she was lifted and thrown over the edge.
Her weight made the long rope sag and carried her down to the middle where she hung by her ankles over the center of the pool of dark water. With the sag and rope between her feet and the supporting line, her head was only ten feet over the water's surface. Her shinny black hair hung down and whipped back and forth as she struggled. But fighting the ropes did nothing, and even if she had managed to work her ankles free, she would have only fallen into the water.
As the naked woman hung there, she had to wonder why this was happening to her. She had heard of the sacrifices to the sun god, how captives had their hearts slashed out of their chests and held up for the god of these barbarians. But she had never heard of a captive being tortured this way.
As time passed, the position grew more and more wearisome. Her ankles hurt, she was getting a headache from hanging upside down, and the dark waters beneath her scared her. There was something sinister about them, almost as if ghosts were calling to her from those unfathomable depths.
Each time someone came, she looked up eagerly, hoping to be removed from this unpleasant position. But the people she saw there, both men and woman and children, simply looked for a while, then departed. Around noon a strange man with skin lighter than any of them came and watched her struggle. But he eventually left also, and the poor girl continued to hang there.
At times children came by themselves. When that happened they often threw rocks at her. The older ones sometimes hit her. They seemed to like to aim for her breasts and more than once she felt a splash of pain where a missile impacted with her soft flesh.
In the middle of the afternoon, a group of men came. They were dressed in feathered robes with strange, frightening masks upon their faces. One held a bowl of burning dark stuff, others held decorated war clubs and battle axes. The light skinned one stood to one side and watched. One of the men began chanting a prayer and sprinkling corn pollen over the edge. The woman became frighten and called out for them to let her down.
Behind the priests, a fair number of villagers came to watch. They -lined the edges of the pit, even the youngest peering down into the water and at the hanging woman. Eventually the dedication completed, the priests granted her wish. They let her down. The rope was untied from the tree next to them and let go. Immediately the woman fell screaming into the dark waters. On the other side of the pit, two Indians were hauling up the rope.
The woman's head bobbed to the surface where she gasped for breath in the surprisingly cold waters. With her hands tied behind her and her ankles also bound, she had trouble keeping her head above water. But, by kicking her joined feet, she managed to tread the water. She even managed to make her way to one side where she tried to gain a hold on the wall. But there were no handholds and the rocks were slippery with moss and slime.
The woman began a circle of the pool, looking for someplace she could hang onto. But any possibilities had long since been knocked off by the priests who wanted this sacrificial pool to have no way out.
She was becoming more and more desperate. The cold was sapping her strength, and it was becoming more and more of an effort to keep treading water. She could see the laughing faces of the children as they watched. The adults were less jovial about the scene, but nonetheless interested.
The maiden weakened more and called upon the gods of her tribe to save her. But no gods of any kind answered the desperate call. The water chilled her to the bone and made her muscles ache. She struggled as hard as she could, hoping the water had loosened the ropes upon her wrists. But they were tied far too tightly in the first place. She remained bound.
A few rocks splashed near her, and one hit her in the head. She cried out. The parents intervened to stop the children from throwing rocks. Soon, they explained, their sacrifice to the Moon Goddess Coyolxauqui would begin her journey to the under world. And they did not want that hurried along by a rock knocking her unconscious. The Moon Goddess would be denied of the pleasure of watching the last, desperate, hopeless struggles of this maiden.
A few of the men commented to themselves that it was a shame this woman would sink into the depths of the pool without ever having known the pleasure of a man's stick being inside her. But everyone knows that virgins make the best sacrifices. And this one was had such a fine body, too, they all sighed.
It was becoming hard and harder to keep her mouth above the water. When she failed, she would choke and sputter out the wetness and renew her efforts to push upward with her legs. But she was growing more and more tired. Her muscles would soon fail to obey her commands to kick. And then the Moon Goddess would be pleased.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ecstasy and Agony
The farther south they went, the more lush became the landscape, and more humid the air. A newspaper purchased in one town told of a shoot-out between the Federales and a desperado gringo at the train station in Mexico City. The article went on to say that a posse of American law officers had arrived shortly afterwards and declared that this man was one of the two they were looking for. Rumors have the other gringo and the woman with him traveling south. There was some speculation about whether she was a traveling companion or a hostage. But the posse vowed to followed them all the way to South America, if need be. Luke swore. "It's that Henderson. He never gives up." They rode on for several more days, stopping only briefly at small towns for supplies. Each time, Susan sat on her horse with the jacket covering her chained hands. A few times Luke left her hidden among the trees, usually with her legs legironed around a tree trunk.
One time she teased him a little too much before he went into a town, and he left her tied to a tree, completely naked. It was a very nervous couple hours for the young lady, waiting for his return and hoping that no one else would find her. He had tied her feet pulled back so that her legs were spread and her pussy an open invitation.
"There had to be some place where they can't find us," he said one day as they were riding along. "Someplace where there are no telegraphs and no newspapers."
"But where?" Susan responded.
"Good question."
'Talking about good questions," Susan continued, "where did you get the money you've been spending? When we first started, you didn't have enough money to buy a good meal."
"Courtesy of the Prince fellow," Luke said with a smile. "I found his wallet. The Prince carried a lot of money. I took the American dollars and Mexican pesos. We don't have money worries."
Susan was proud of him. She wouldn't have thought to search for money in the private car. "You didn't tell Billy, did you?"
"No. He was a saddle friend, not a real one. We traveled together for a while, that was all."
They rode on for a bit longer before Luke told her, "I think we might head east to one of the ports on the coast. Then catch a ship for Brazil. I hear that's a big country with lots of potential."
"I just want someplace where we can settle down for a while," Susan replied. "My bottom is soooo sore from this saddle."
A while later, she asked, "Why haven't you, as you and Billy referred to it, screwed me?"
"Huh?" Luke seemed embarrassed. "You're a lady. I can tell. And you said that you were a virgin."
"And I still am."
Was that a hint of rebuke?
"I got the impression you wanted to save your virginity for your future husband," he informed. "Good girls do that. Bad girls don't wait."
Susan wasn't sure she liked being called a good girl. Sort of like being called a prude. She dropped the subject because she was getting close to admitting that she wanted to have sex with this good looking guy. Not that she didn't love what he did to her with his tongue, but she instinctively knew that there was something more to lovemaking than that. Still, she was of mixed emotions. Part of her said no, part screamed yes. She didn't know which part to obey.
Late that evening, they came to a small town. Instead of hiding her in the forest, he led them right down the short main street and up to a hotel, the only one in town. He helped her down from her horse without flashing her handcuffs. In the lobby, which was small, filled with ancient furniture, and none too clean, he asked for a room. He paid for one night, took the key, and led Susan up the stairs. There were only four rooms, theirs being the last one on the right.
The room was small, mostly filled with a bed and a dresser. The bed was covered with a red bedspread worn at the edges. But compared to the cold, hard ground of the last six days, it was a wonderful place to rest.
Telling Susan to wait there, Luke went down and brought up their bags, then took the horses to the stable to be fed and bedded down for the night. Back in their room, he found Susan had taken her jacket off and was laying on her stomach on the bed. Her handcuffed wrists were resting on her bottom and her legs were spread wide. Even with her clothing on, it was an erotic sight. Luke stood there for a while, looking at the woman laying on his bed and thinking many thoughts, most of them about what he could do with her after her clothes were off.
Had her hands been tied with rope instead of handcuffs, she would have laid upon her back. With her legs spread open, it would have been a wordless invitation, and she knew that. If she had trouble speaking of her desires, maybe communication without words would work better.
Luke sat down on the edge of the bed and took her right foot in his hand, then began unlacing her high top shoe. Then he did the same with her other shoe.
"Are you going to undress me?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she struggled to roll over and then swing her legs off the bed to stand before him. "Then do it right," she said, and thrust her breasts out at him in invitation to unbutton the blouse.
Luke might have a hang-up about virginity, but he wasn't stupid. Slowly he undressed her, enjoying the process. Susan found that she liked being undressed by a man. There was something more thrilling in it than taking your own clothes off.
The handcuffs presented a little difficulty with the blouse and such, but he unlocked the cuffs, then immediately bound her wrists with rope as soon as the objectionable clothing was discarded. Finally she stood before him, completely naked and smiling. He took her in his arms and they kissed for a long time. Susan pushed her breasts against his chest and wanted to wrap her legs around his hips.
Eventually Luke tossed the naked girl on the bed where she bounced once and then lay there on her tied hands, smiling up at him. Slowly her legs opened.
Luke had his clothes off pretty quickly and was on the bed between her legs, spreading them wider with his strong hands. Then he lay on top of her, kissed her mouth with passion, and explored her body with his hands. Susan was surprised how nice it felt to have his body pressing down on hers. And she could feel his manhood coming to full life between her legs. She moaned with anticipation.
But what she wanted was not to be. His head dove between her legs and his fingers opened her sex up for his tongue. Susan moaned again, a mixture of disappointment and pleasure. She shivered as his tongue began its work down there. But something was in her mind, something she couldn't quite put into words. She squeezed her legs together. When his head came up, she looked at him between her breasts, and said, "Please. Let me."
Luke rolled to one side and followed Susan's movements with interest. In a few seconds she was kneeling beside him, facing his erection which just happen to be sticking straight up. She longed to take it in her hands and stroke it, hold it. This was something she had never really seen before and was fascinated with. Its blunt end covered with smooth skin, its hardness, and the faint blue veins she could see along its length, all turned her on. Without a conscious decision or even forethought about what she was doing, she leaned over and gently kissed the end of his cock.
It seemed to pulse happily when she did. Then, again without knowing what she was doing, she opened her mouth and engulfed his tool within the soft, moist confines. All she knew was that she wanted to swallow that wonderful thing, suck on it and give him some of the pleasure she felt when he did the same for her.
It didn't take her long to figure out that sliding her mouth along the shaft excited the man. Soon she was pumping her head up and down eagerly, enjoying the little moans that were coming from him.
With strong hands, and being careful not to dislodge his shaft from her wonderful mouth, Luke shifted himself around and brought Susan back to a position where she was laying on her back with her legs spread. He knelt over her, then wrapped his arms around her thighs so his hands grabbed her bottom and squeezed hard. Then his mouth was upon her sex, his tongue seeking out and thrilling her clit. The more he lapped at her sex, the more she pumped her mouth up and down his organ.
It felt wonderful but nothing lasts forever. As Susan felt the heat and tingle building up inside her loins, she hurried her strokes. Then she exploded into wonderfully hot flames and gave out with a little cry around the object filling her mouth. Her head jerked up, impaling herself upon his shaft until it was nearly sliding down her throat.
At that point Luke gave forth with a grunt and moaned. His cock throbbed mightily and gave forth with a torrent of fluid. Instinctually, Susan swallowed as hard as she could, gulping at both his shaft and its issue. It was something done naturally, without thinking, for bright lights were exploding before her closed eyes, and her body felt as if it were burning up.
Luke, as is the way with men, finished his orgasm first, and began to withdraw. Susan's mouth was reluctant to let its captive go, but had to. Then Luke rested back on the edge of the bed and watched as Susan's naked body shivered and moved erotically. Her hips were humping up and down as if she had a man inside her. Then her legs closed and she tried to curl up into a ball, whining with ecstasy all the while.
Later he untied her hands and allowed her to take a bath in the bathroom at the end of the hall. Then he had one and they went out for dinner in the tiny dining room attached to the hotel. The steaks were delicious, being fresh from local ranches. Then they retired for the night.
"Please," Susan whispered when they were undressed and ready to slip between the sheets. "Please tie my hands behind me. I don't want to be tempted to slip away during the night."
"A reasonable precaution," agreed Luke. But with male cunning and perverse nature, he not only bound her wrists crossed behind her, he also tied her ankles together. It made her feel more helpless and that was good. She fell asleep in his arms, very content and happy, although still wondering when she would lose her virginity. Marriage and saving yourself for your husband became distant considerations when compared to the love and desire she felt for this man.
In the morning, they did the mutual oral sex thing, what would become known as "69'ing" years in the future. AH they knew was that it felt so very good for both of them.
Then she was untied, got dressed and held out her hands behind her for the handcuffs. Only when her wrists were snugly locked behind her did she feel fully dressed.
Raiding parties often came upon enemy villages when the men folk were away tending farms or hunting. Thus they often came back home dragging many bound females by the ropes on their necks. Or if the men were at the village, there was sure to be a battle in which most or all of them were killed. The Indians who sacrificed to the sun god were merciless. And they needed at least one sacrifice each day to assure the rising of the sun god and the continuation of the world for another day.
It was thus common for their prison to be filled with females ranging from rather young to late twenties. Age mattered little, it was the beauty that counted for beautiful sacrifices pleased the gods much more.
It was also more fun for the descends of the ancient race who ruled this land before the coming of the white men.
On the same morning that Susan and Luke resumed their journey, another female prisoner was taken from the dungeons beneath the Temple of the Offerings, and marched to a place where she would suffer that the gods might enjoy her pain.
This time it was not at the pool, nor in the square between the temples. There was a small mound not far off, and around it were four wooden posts planted deeply in the ground. At the mound, her hands were untied from behind her back, and she was picked up by four strong priests to be stretched out horizontally. They carried her over the mound and held her while others tied rope tightly about the wrists and ankles. Those rope were then passed through holes in the posts and pulled. The holes were low enough so that when she was strung out between them, her bottom rested on the top of the mound. They tied off the ropes, leaving her stretched out tightly in a spread-eagle position.
One priest leaned over her and untied her loin cloth, then removed it. She was now naked. For a while she looked nervously at the men standing around her, fearing that one of them would produce an obsidian knife and cut her heart out. But they only muttered some prayers and stood there.
The ropes were tight, and it was not comfortable to be semi-suspended like that, but it hardly constituted torture. Then she became aware of something crawling up her flank. And some others on the other side. With steady and relentless progress, the ants crawled up onto the naked woman. She could see them coming up onto her tummy and crawling around her breasts. Sweat began to pop out on her face as she realized what was to happen. She begged those men around her to take her off this ant hill. Do what you wish to me, she told them. Screw me. Whip me. But get me out of here!
The priests ignored her. Soon there were hundreds of large red ants crawling over her entire body, their tiny feet tickling her skin and their antennae twitching in the air. The woman was panting and sweating even though in the shade of trees. Then one of them stung her near her left nipple. She cried out and broke her fear-frozen stillness. With violent jerking, she tried to shake the ants off her body. She pounded her bottom against the dirt mound, killing some of them, but also agitating the rest. Their crooked trails along her flesh became trails of fire as she was stung repeatedly, each bite rapidly becoming a small lump and burning from the toxin injected under her flesh.
She closed her eyes when they walked over her face and shook her head violently from side to side. But nothing she could do had much effect. If she dislodged a dozen with her efforts, a hundred marched on to take their place.
She jerked at the ropes holding her body, but the cords were thick and tightly pulled. Soon her whole body was covered with the red creatures, and the skin between them turning red and bumpy from their attacks. Her mouth opened and she screamed out her pain and fear. Stories about how a captive staked out on an ant hill would be slowly, tiny bite by tiny bite, eaten alive filled her mind. Then she screamed again. Her brown skin was slowly changing color, mixing towards a reddish. Then it began to swell up. It took an hour, but her limbs and breasts and stomach became noticeably larger from her body's reactions to the toxin. Her eyes lids became so puffy they were closed. Her lips were swollen up until it looked like she were trying to kiss the air.
And all the while her agonized screams filled the jungle. And pleased both the gods and the priests standing around.
She was right. After they injected her with enough toxins to make her swell up, itch and burn as if on fire, they began to take tiny bites out of her flesh. They started on her breasts. Perhaps that was the softest parts they could find.
The man in the black feather robe stood to one side and watched, nodding as the torture proceeded. This was a good one, he thought. Their primitive gods should be pleased with this offering. A lot of pain was going on there. He could almost see it rising into the sky like smoke from a campfire.
They were riding along a ridge in some low hills when the bullet whizzed past Luke's head. A .50 caliber bullet makes a distinctive sound when it passes within a foot or so of your head, and that one got his attention immediately.
Looking back, he could see several riders about half a mile back along the same ridge. "Damn," he muttered. "Sharps rifle. Gitty up!"
A second shot kicked up dirt to his left. Frantically, Luke was looking for a fast route off that exposed ridge and someplace to hide. He wanted to go to the left, which was to the east and the port towns where he hoped to catch a ship. But the only possible escape route was to the right and down a steep hill. "Hold on!" he cried and turned his horse down the sloop.
"Ohhhhhh!" yelled Susan as she clamped her legs tightly to the saddle. As she and the horse bounced down the hill at what seemed to be a terribly steep angle, she wondered about the wisdom of riding with one's hands handcuffed behind one.
Somehow Susan did not fall off, and they made it into the canyon floor, then were racing along as fast as Luke could push the horses. The ground sloped downward, which helped, but would also help their pursuers. Susan held the back of her saddle with her joined hands and tried to squeeze the life out of her horse with her legs.
The country had been changing for the last couple days, more trees, less desert. As they descended the hills, they found themselves among the trees of a forest. Coming upon a creek, Luke slowed the horses and turned in the middle of the water to go downstream. Moving at a fast walk, he kept his eyes open for a rocky place where they could exit the stream and not leave hoof prints for the tracker behind them. There was none, and Luke kept to the creek for quite a while before turning off onto a place where grasses grew and might hide the hoof prints some.
The horses were tired, so he kept the pace down even though he wished he could ride like the wind to outdistance those behind them.
"Bandits?" asked Susan.
"Henderson's posse," replied Luke.
"I though we were far ahead of them."
"Maybe they didn't pause to spend the night in a hotel room playing sexual games," was his bitter retort.
He changed directions twice, generally moving in a southern direction but not giving them a straight path to follow. Eventually they had to rest the horses. After helping her down, Luke unlocked the handcuffs from Susan's wrists. The skin was red and chaffed from the rough ride.
As he put the cuffs in his saddle bag, Susan put her arm on his shoulder and pressed herself against his body. "Save them," she said. "When we get away, you can keep me locked up all day, every day."
"I'll do that," he replied with a grin.
They pushed hard the rest of that day, and paused only briefly for a cold meal and to water and feed the horses. Luke kept one eye and one ear cocked for sounds behind them but fortunately heard nothing. Then they pushed on until the forest grew too dark to see and it became dangerous. If one of the horses were to step in a hole or get snakebite, they would be in serious trouble.
They made a quick camp where Susan was able to sleep while Luke kept watch. But as the stars wheeled overhead, even he could not keep his eyes open.
It was the sound of birds that awoke Luke. He hurriedly awoke Susan and they were off as fast as they could saddle the horses. The land was changing, becoming hotter and more humid, it seemed. And the trees were giving way to other species, along with a marked increase in undergrowth. By the end of that day they were riding through what was almost a jungle, so lush and thick was the vegetation.
When the going became almost impossible, they came upon a trail. It led them farther away from the ocean, but also was taking them farther from the posse.
They followed the little used trail through valleys and over low mountains covered with all kinds of growth until they felt they were lost in a green hell. Numerous colorful blossoms competed with the brilliantly colored parrots to offer something besides shades of green.
On the third day they came upon a large valley. From a small opening in the leaves, they could see down into the valley. There looked to be stone buildings down there.
"Doesn't Mexico had lots of ancient stone ruins?" asked Luke.
"Yes," said Susan. "Aztecs and Mayans and other races lived here and built temples and buildings. But they're all gone."
"Good. I wouldn't want to run into any of them. Blood thirsty lot, weren't they?" "Went in for human sacrifice," she told him. "Wonderful," was his dry comment.
"The ants eat a lot," said the priest standing next to the white man. "But the beetles finish off the rest of the flesh."
It was the next day, and the two of them were looking at the skeleton staked out on the ant hill. Red dots crawled alone the white, perfectly cleaned bones, but not many, for nothing edible remained.
CHAPTER NINE
Hidden Land
The trail led down the valley and towards the distant buildings, although they could not see them as soon as they descended into the jungle.
"You sure these ass tecks aren't around any more?" Luke asked Susan for the tenth time. 'Those buildings looked like they have been kept clear of plants."
"Yes, our history teacher told us that the Aztecs were wiped out. Those who weren't killed merged in with the rest of the Mexican population. You don't really think that the Mexican government would allow a bunch of Indians to go around making human sacrifices every morning, do you?"
"Of course not!" he said, wishing he could believe it. From what he had heard, the central Mexican government had trouble keep the peace in many parts of the land, and there were huge areas totally unexplored, let alone controlled.
They had traveled the better part of a day across a valley that was proving to be larger than expected, and the sun was nearing the tree tops. When they could see it through the canopy of leaves. For half an hour Luke had noted that the trail was growing a little wider and looking more used. Which did not set well with him. He was seriously considering trying to head off into the jungle to bypass the buildings and make their way to the other side of the valley. Then, perhaps, he could turn east again and make for the coast.
Suddenly they turned a corner and the jungle opened up into a huge flat area filled with a dozen stone buildings. They both reined in their horses and stared in disbelief. Not only was the jungle growth cleared away from the buildings and the large square in between them, but there were people walking around. Dark skinned natives, wearing, for the most part, dirty white smocks, seemed to be going about their business without regard for the two intruders.
"Shit!" said Luke under his breath. "Let's quietly turn around and get out of here."
"Fine with me," agreed Susan.
Unfortunately, there were about a hundred of those brown skins behind them, armed with an assortment of bows and arrows, spears and battle axes. Luke's hand went down towards the six-shooter at his hip.
"That would be most unwise," came a deep voice from one side of the armed band. The words were English, but spoken with a strong Germanic accent. "They are very good with those arrows and spears. And most of the arrows are tipped with poison. You would be dead in a few seconds. And at most, you would take out only a few of them."
An Indian dressed in a robe of black feathers stepped forward. He lifted the headpiece off to reveal the features of a white man in this middle thirties with a large, bushy mustache and wavy, long black hair.
Luke eased his hand away from the gun butt. "Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Wolfgang Smidt. These people are all that remain of the once proud Aztec race."
"I thought they were all gone," Luke muttered. "Fine," he said louder. "We were just passing through on the way to the coast"
"You're heading the wrong direction," Wolfgang said with a smile.
"Well, we're a little lost."
"This whole valley is lost. But we can discuss that later. First I must insist that you hand me your gun belt and that .44."
Luke cursed softly. There were simply too many of them. He could get, at most, six of them, then both he and Susan would be dead. Or at least he would be, he corrected himself. Susan was a lovely woman and that was something desired in any culture. He slowly unbuckled the gun belt and handed it down.
"Now, if you two would be so kind as to dismount?" Luke descended and then helped Susan down. She looked nervous.
"Fine. They will bring your horses along. If you will come this way?"
As they walked across the square, the two newcomers were impressed with the size and beauty of the buildings around them. All were made of some type of stone, cut into squares and assembled with precision. Several of the buildings had stairs ascending their sides. The largest, at the east end of the square, had what seemed to be a stone altar at the top. Luke hoped that it wasn't what it appeared to be. The morning sunlight would come over those mountains and strike that altar before anything else in the valley.
As they walked across the grassy courtyard, the two of them had the feeling their were more prisoners than honored guests. At least a dozen warriors accompanied them, clubs and spears and arrow at the ready.
Their path took them near to a small paved area before the great temple, one with four pillars set into the pavement. And between the short pillars was a naked woman. She was a native, not bad looking and with a fine body, young and firm. She had been placed in the middle of the pillars and her legs spread wide to two opposite ones. Then her arms had been tied behind her with the elbows tightly together, and a rope from the wrists passed over her head to the post in front of her. When that rope was pulled, her arms came up behind her, and her body had to bend forward as the arms were lifted higher and higher. When Luke and Susan saw her, her arms were pulled so far that her forehead was touching the stones and her wrists were much closer to that post than her head was. It looked, and certainly was, a most uncomfortable position to be tied in.
But that was not the only torment for the helpless Indian maid. Her bare back and hips were covered with vivid red lines, showing where she had been whipped. The sides of her breasts as they hung down were also marked up. They could hear her moaning as they walked passed her. The pavement beneath her face was wet with tears of pain.
"What's that for?" asked Luke.
"She's being punished," replied Wolfgang casually. "Unfaithful wife."
Luke frowned but said nothing. This was a different culture. Besides, he had heard of an unfaithful wife being beaten now and then.
Susan held her tongue but felt sorry for the poor young woman. She imagined what it would be like to have to do the splits and bend forward until your head was on the ground like that. A shiver of sympathetic pain raced down her spine.
Their destination was a building just beyond the central square. It was lower, only a little more than ten feet high, looked more like a fortress than a home. The windows were rather small and few. Two warriors stood guard on either side of the door.
"Please come into my humble home," Wolfgang said as he held aside the beaded curtain across the doorway. They were ushered into a large room with wooden chairs and some tapestries on the walls. A handful of small windows and two holes in the ceiling allowed sunlight and fresh air to come in. The largest tapestry showed a radiant solar disk with wiggly rays coming out in all directions. Other decorations included battle axes and spears on the walls. The thick fur skins of some kind of animal decorated the stone floor.
"Please sit down. Make yourself comfortable. I will arrange for something to drink."
Suddenly Luke and Susan were alone in the room. She immediately rushed to his side and put her arms around him. "What the hell is going on?" she asked.
"I wish I knew," said Luke, honestly. "At least this Wolfgang seems to be in charge here. That's better than being at the hands of a bunch of Indians who are fond of slicing out hearts."
"I don't like the way he looked at me. Or those Indians."
"They have never seen a blonde before," Wolfgang said from the doorway. "And such a beautiful woman, too," he added graciously.
"I don't mean to be unfriendly," said Luke, "but we really would like to be getting on our way. If you tell us the best way to get to some town on the coast where we might get a ship."
"I'm afraid that will be impossible," Wolfgang said with mock sincerity. Then he spoke some words in what was probably the Indian's language. Instantly half a dozen warriors rushed in, grabbed Luke and held him. One of them was holding a spear to his throat with the effect of calming down his attempts to resist.
A few more words were spoken and they dragged the former stage robber out of the room.
"What are you doing?" exclaimed Susan as she started to follow them out. But Wolfgang's hand upon her arm halted her.
"You don't have to worry about your friend," he said. "Come back over here and sit down."
Since a large, ugly warrior was blocking the doorway with his body, Susan obeyed, although reluctantly.
"That's better. I have sent for something to drink, and we can have a little chat."
"I don't want to chat, I want to see what is happening to Luke. Where have they taken him?"
"Not to worry, you will see your friend later," he told her. "Ah, here are the drinks."
An Indian woman came in with a tray holding two glasses. "It is crude type of wine that I have tried to make. Not very good, but grapes are not available. This is made from fermented local fruits."
He lifted his glass to Susan. She took hers and sipped the beverage, hardly noticing what it tasted like.
At that point some Indians brought in the saddle bags from their horses. These were put on the floor at Wolfgang's feet. He opened a bag and spread out the handcuffs, legirons and small collection of ropes that Luke had packed in case he needed them.
"Interesting toys you have," Wolfgang said with a smile. "Those handcuffs are custom made and of a size to fit a woman's more slender wrist. Likewise for the legirons. Yours?"
Susan did not answer him, without realizing that her silence rather than a denial told him that she was, indeed, familiar with the restraints.
"Well, you are now a prisoner of the Xauxia tribe, last of the Aztecs. If you do not plan to finish that drink, would you please stand and put your hands behind your back?"
"What?! You're crazy. I want to see Luke."
"You will, but you won't want to join him," Wolfgang said with a sneer. "Now please stand up or I'll have a couple of the men hold you up."
Susan slowly got to her feet. She was eyeing the doorway, thinking of a dash for freedom, but the guard was still there. Wolfgang came over and turned her around roughly. He pulled her arms behind her, then locked the handcuffs upon her wrists. He clicked them down very tight, more than Luke ever did, until the steel edges were cutting into her wrists.
"It was nice of him to leave the key here with the cuffs. That way I'll be able to unlock you later."
"You can unlock me right now," Susan told him in an icy tone. "My father is an important man and will hunt you down if you hurt me."
Wolfgang laughed. "If he can find me! This valley has been hidden ever since the white men came to this land. No one has found it, except, of course, for you two and myself. No, my dear, no one will come looking for you." He turned to the guard and spoke a few words. Then he picked up a length of rope and fashioned a sliding loop in the end. That he placed over her head and snugged it down. Holding the rope like a leash, he walked for the door. Susan felt the jerk on her neck, felt the rope constrict, and had to follow.
"Allow me to tell you a little story," he said as they left the building. "A few years ago a German who was living in England decided to travel to American, the land of opportunity. On the journey over the ocean, he found out that the ship's safe contained a fortune in precious jewels bound for Mexico City to be put on display. Late one night, just as the ship was due to dock the next day, he snuck into the purser's office, opened the safe and extracted the jewels. He went up on deck, planning to jump ship when it was coming into the harbor, thereby making his 'get away' as you American's call it."
They were passing the square where the naked Indian maiden was still bent over and suffering.
"Unfortunately there as a rather bad storm that night, and the ship, instead of making port safely, was driven by high seas onto some rocks. She sank, I believe with a loss of all hands and passengers. Only this resourceful German managed to make it to shore. And he lost everything except the jewels which he keep in a bag next to his heart."
As they passed the bound woman, she suddenly screamed, a wild, desperate scream of anger and suffering. For a few seconds Susan watched as she struggled wildly against the rope in a frenzy or jerking and frantic waggling of fingers. But after a only a handful of moments, she calmed down and let her muscles all go limp. Susan's last sight of the unfortunate woman was of her breasts going up and down as she panted.
"How long has she been like that?" Susan asked.
"This is the second day."
"What! Isn't that a little harsh for an unfaithful wife?"
Wolfgang laughed. "She's not anyone's wife, at least as far as I know. She was captured from another tribe down the valley. The gods of these heathens enjoy human suffering. So these people make sure that their gods have plenty of suffering to enjoy. There's almost always a captive female someplace in the temple compound being tortured in one way or another. This time it's for Ehecate, the God of the Wind. And, of course, there is the morning ritual."
"On top of that temple?" ventured Susan. "At dawn's first light a living heart is cut out and offered to the sun god?"
He paused to look at her. "You know of their customs?"
"The Aztecs practiced that for many years before the coming of the Spaniards."
"Ah, yes, the history books. Well, it is true. The world would not go on if the sun god Tonatiu is not appeased. At least these people believe that. Besides, they are an extremely blood-thirsty race. Such ritual torture and sacrifices pleases them."
Captive maidens sacrificed at dawn? Susan suddenly felt a great fear for her own safety.
"This German waded ashore and wandered for many days through the jungle, living off what he could find until he stumbled into this valley. When the Xauxia found him, they were ready to kill him. He was after all, not of their tribe and therefore a fitting subject for sacrifice. But when they saw the jewels he was carrying, they were awed, having never seen cut gems before. They decided to spare him, and teach him their language so they could learn where he got those jewels, in hopes of getting more. They adored the stones and thought them pieces of the gods."
They had left the main square and entered the jungle on a well-worn path. "By the time he had learned enough language to communicate to them that he could get no more such jewels, they had come to respect him and allowed him to continue living with the tribe. In fact, they made him an important member of the tribe, almost one of the priests. For one thing, they liked the fiendish and imaginative ways he devised for extracting maximum suffering from prisoners. All to please the gods, of course."
"Let me guess, and to this day he is still living with the tribe, torturing captive maidens and enjoying the suffering as much as the gods?"
He smiled at her. "Very perceptive, my dear. Yes, I am that man. And I do enjoy watching maidens suffer. It is human nature."
They walked on for a few minutes in silence save for the calls of birds and other sounds of the jungle. Then the path opened into a large clearing. A wide circular hole occupied most of the clearing. As they approached a group of men standing at the edge, Susan found that the circle dropped straight down for twenty feet to the quiet and dark surface of water.
Then Susan recognized Luke with the priests in flowery and feathery robes and guards. Blood was trickling down his chin from a cut lip, and his hands were tied behind him. Apparently he had been giving them a bad time. A couple of the guards showed cuts and black eyes.
"What are you going to do to Luke?" Susan asked Wolfgang in a low voice.
"Why sacrifice him, of course! What else would you expect? He doesn't have a pouch filled with valuable jewels, after all." Wolfgang seemed amused. "Soon he's going to go for a swim in the Pool of Death." He looked over the edge at the dark waters below. "I'll wager there are many skeletons down there. They've been sacrificing captives here since fleeing from the Spanish conquerors many years ago."
One of the priests was holding his arms skyward and chanting. At a dramatic part of the chant, two of the guards prodded Luke in the back with spear points. He looked as if he was going to take them on, even with bound wrists, but they showed every sign of being willing to toss in a sacrifice filled with holes and bleeding as easily as one in good health. He edged towards the brink but reluctantly.
At an impatient nod from the priest, one of the guards put a foot against Luke's rear and pushed. With a cry, he plunged over the edge and into the waters below. A loud splash broke the calm of that late afternoon. Susan could see waves spreading out but not sign of Luke. With a cry of distress, she moved closer to the edge until she was in danger of slipping over herself. But a tug on the rope brought her up short.
"No use joining him," Wolfgang told her. "There are other, special things planned for you."
Susan searched the surface of the water in vain for Luke. But his head never appeared. She felt a lump in her throat and tears coming to her eyes.
"Looks like he was lucky."
"What do you mean?" she asked, angrily.
"He probably hit his head on a rock or something. If he hadn't, then he would be in for a long, slow death. The walls of that pool are straight up with no handholds. And they're slippery. He'd tread water for hours, growing weaker and weaker as the cold water sapped his strength. Eventually, he would drown, but only after hours of struggling frantically against it. See what I mean? He was lucky to go quickly. Most of the sacrifices don't."
Susan glared at the evil German but held her lips clamped shut.
"The light is fading," he told her, "and we should get back. This jungle is not a good place to be out in at night. All sorts of dangerous creatures prowl about. There are panthers moving silently through the dark and killing when they wish. There are poisonous snakes and spiders."
The rope tugged and Susan followed. For a moment she considered throwing herself over the edge, but selfpreservation kicked in to save her. She walked back in silence, a few tears silently rolling down her cheeks.
As they passed the bound and naked maiden, Susan had to wonder how long they were going to leave her like that. She looked very weak and thoroughly beaten. Would their gods enjoy a woman starving to death? Or dying of lack of water?
Back in his home, Wolfgang dismissed the guard, but only after putting the legirons on Susan's ankles. Then he took off the black feathered robe to reveal a slender body clad only in a loin cloth.
"It's hot enough her to get away with wearing very little," he told her. "In fact, I think you're wearing too much, yourself." His grin was a leer.
Susan wanted to tell him no, but the tight steel around her wrists reminded her that she had very little control over what would happen to her. Luke's death clearly showed that.
Wolfgang stood nose to nose with the frightened woman and reached for the buttons on her blouse. "You can fight me if you wish," he whispered. "But I'll just have to be rough with you. Which is okay with me." He laughed and she knew he was not kidding. He would treat her with not only a lack of respect, but a real desire to hurt.
With the blouse unbuttoned and pulled out of her skirt, he suddenly grabbed the material near one shoulder and yanked. With a ripping sound, the material parted. Susan cried out at the unexpected surprise the first time, but not the second. He then ripped off her white cotton undergarment, revealing her breasts.
"Gott in Himmel! Was ein nettes Paar Briste!" he exclaimed. "Lovely, lovely. The finest breasts I have ever seen!"
Susan blushed but more in anger than embarrassment.
He walked around behind her and unlocked one cuff of the handcuffs. "There is going to be a battle," he said as he brought her hands in front of her and locked them again. "The priests will want to sacrifice you to the sun god. Such fair, lovely golden hair will strike them as being somehow akin to the gold of the sun. I, on the other hand, do not want you to make the trip up the Sun Temple."
He studied the wonderful firm and large pair of breasts and sighed. "I am important in the tribe, but the priests are more powerful. I will try to dissuade them by pointing out that such a lovely young, woman would please all the gods were she to be tortured slowly over a very long time. It won't be comfortable for you, but it will give me time to figure out some way of keeping you."
"Keeping me? For yourself?" Susan said.
"Well, it is a better than the alternative, is it not?"
Susan sniffed in disdain. Right at that point in time, with the memory of Luke's death fresh in her mind, she wasn't sure what was best.
"Some food will be brought in soon. You will eat. Later, we will ... talk."
The food was fruits and corn meal mush. She ate with joined hands but was only going through the motions. The numbness inside was depriving her of any emotions.
Afterwards, she was taken to the bedroom, another stone room with fur rugs. And an arrangement of two short wooden posts set into holes in middle of the room, and a cross piece on top. The horizontal post only came to Susan's upper thighs.
"We are going to have a little discussion," he told her. "About what you are to become."
Susan blankly looked at him and said nothing.
He unlocked her wrists and put the handcuffs down on the bed. Then he gathered her arms behind her back and bound them there, taking care to force her elbows together. It was a strain on the lovely girl, but she made no sound. Then he walked her over to the railing and ordered her to spread her legs. With a sign, Susan obeyed. In her dull mind, she knew that she was about to lose her virginity, but she didn't care. The one man she had wanted to take that prize from her was dead, and nothing really mattered any more. Her ankles were bound to the two posts, leaving her legs spread widely.
The rope noose was still around her neck, and he used it to pull her down until her hips were pressed hard against the cross-piece and her head down at the level of her knees. Passing the rope back through her legs, he tied it to something solid behind her. She found she could not straighten up. Also that this position made her bottom stick up in the air. It also made her sex available and she expected he would take her flower while standing behind her. It didn't matter.
The skirt was cut off, along with all else save her high top shoes. Even her stockings were cut at the ankles and then ripped from her legs. That left her sex exposed as she knew it would be.
The sudden burst of pain upon her upturned bottom jerked her out of her depression. She cried out, then tired to lift her head up as her body instinctually tried to come up. But the rope around her neck tightened and cut off the cry of pain. She gagged for a second, then forced herself to lower her head. The noose reluctantly loosened.
Between her legs, she could see Wolfgang standing there, but what he had used to create a line of pain across her buttocks she could not see. Again he swung his arm and fire burst into existence on the bare flesh of her bottom. Again she cried out, but forced herself to keep her head down.
Whatever he was whipping her bottom with struck a total of six more times, leaving the poor girl sobbing and wondering if her rear were cut to pieces.
"Nice and juicy," Wolfgang said after inserting two fingers into the entrance of her vagina. He scooped up some of the juice and smeared it into her anus. Before Susan could understand what was happening, she felt the head of his penis pressing against her rear hole. Then it popped in and she cried out in surprise and discomfort. What did he think he was doing? That's not where a woman is suppose to be raped. Susan's mind was a mass of confusion, expecting normal sex and rape, but getting something she didn't understand instead.
Inexperienced she might be, but she knew this was the sex act happening to her, if in the wrong place. He pumped away, driving his shaft deeply in then almost all the way out repeatedly, grunting and groaning as he did.
Susan was groaning, herself, but from the extreme discomfort of having something that large shoved up her ass. It felt as if he were going to tear the muscular ring of her anus apart. She cried out loudly, begging him to stop, telling him how much it hurt her. But her cries were ignored, except, of course, to be noted with snickers and crude jokes by the natives close enough to the building to hear her yells. They might not have understood the words, but they had a good idea what was going on. Enough of the captive maidens had told them what this white man liked to do to girls. Which was acceptable to the natives, most of whom liked to poke a woman in that place now and then as a little variety to normal sex. They especially enjoyed the way some of the captives maidens screamed when their rear was invaded. Made for a more enjoyable rape. For the men, that is.
As much as the man was enjoying this rape of Susan's rear, Susan was not enjoying it. When he finally came and pumped his hot fluid into her rear, she felt very used and degraded. And, indeed, she had been taken without regard for her comfort or enjoyment, and in a manner both painful and degrading to her. When he pulled out and left her bent over the railing, she was crying, her tears falling to stain the stone floor with their wetness.
CHAPTER TEN
First Torture
The night remained hot and humid, so the naked Susan was not cold as she huddled in the corner of a tiny stone cell. The door was made of wood and quite massive. The cell had only one tiny window up higher than she could reach, had her hands been free to try reaching it. Eventually she had been untied from that railing in Wolfgang's bedroom, but her arms were left bound behind her and her clothes were not returned. Not that they would have helped much, being torn and ruined.
Guards marched her across the square which was now lit by a few torches here and there, including two stuck into the tops of a couple of the small posts that the naked native woman was tied to. She was still in the same position as before, still suffering from cramping muscles, stiffness and aches in most of her joints. Susan's heart went out to the woman, but she could do nothing about the poor girl's plight. And she was more worried about what was going to happen to her.
Wolfgang had told her that the elder priests would have heard about her capture by then, and would undoubtedly convene a council after the morning sacrifice on the Temple of the Sun. He would be there, and she would probably be brought before them. Then her fate would be decided.
Whatever the decision, Susan saw only a bleak future. Either she would be sacrificed within a day or two, her heart cut right out of her body as she watched, or she would be tortured to please some non-existent gods until all parties grew tried of making her hurt. Then they would probably sacrifice her anyway. Great choice!
There was a building that was used to hold the captive slaves. It was only two stories above ground but had an extensive labyrinth under the ground wherein were kept the captives. It was a maze of corridors with numerous cells leading off them. Some, like Susan's, had small windows, other were far enough underground to have none.
She had been allowed to keep her shoes, but was cast into the dungeon with nothing else to wear. When she saw them pushing the heavy door shut, she cried out and held out her arms to tell them that they had forgotten to untie her. They laughed at her.
Her arms hurt, so she spent some time trying to work the ropes off. But they were tied very tightly by someone who apparently was experienced at making sure a woman could not escape. Being naked and with her elbows tied behind her reminded her of the night she spent in Luke's arms, her body then also naked and her arms tied in the same manner as now. But those ropes had not been so very tight. And a little discomfort was nothing when Luke's arms were around her. She had been stiff and a little sore the next morning. After a night in that cell, she expected she would be screaming with the pain. Her hands throbbed and her elbows already ached.
The pain did some good, however. For periods of time it took her mind off the real ache inside her. The thought of Luke laying on the bottom of that pool was too terrible to have, but she kept returning to it. Ever since he had sweep her up in his strong arms and carried her away from that stagecoach, it had been one scary but thrilling adventure. But now it was coming to an end, and not a pleasant one for the blonde American girl. Not pleasant at all.
Susan managed to sleep some but was awaken in the early morning by the sound of a woman's scream. It was not just a woman in pain, it was the mortal scream of someone absolutely terrified. Then it came again, a scream of pure pain and terror. A death scream. It trailed off and silence once again claimed the jungle and prison cells. For a second Susan wondered if she had dreamed it, but then she saw the golden light coming in the window and knew that the sun had just risen. Which meant that some person, probably a maiden, had been sacrificed to their sun god.
They came for her a short time later. She was given a simple meal which she was forced to eat with her mouth only for they did not untie her arms. She could no longer feel her hands and wondered if there were permanent damage being done below her elbows. Then a rope was placed around her neck and she was hauled off to her fate.
The room was like a hall, about thirty feet long and twenty wide. The walls were of the same stone blocks, and the only furniture was wooden chairs placed around the two long walls, and a few in a semi-circle at the end opposite the door. The room was empty when she was marched in at the end of her rope. One guard stood there, holding her rope.
A handful of minutes later Indians began entering the room. Most wore robe of cotton and feathers with sea shell necklaces. Some wore a simpler costume but carried battle axes or spears, apparently a warrior caste. Slowly they filled up the chairs, leaving the large one at the end. They all looked at Susan with interest in their eyes, and while some of them had obvious lust in their hearts, others sneered at her or seemed to be evaluating her fine body for some purpose other than sex.
One of the last to walk in was Wolfgang, who took a seat at the far end, next to the larger one. Susan looked around nervously and was both embarrassed and afraid of the attention these strange men were giving her. Save for her father and doctor, these were the first men to see her naked. And, of course Luke. She was simply not used to standing naked before a roomful of strange men, and not be able to use her hands to cover herself. It was a strange feeling.
Then a man walked in who was a head taller than any of the others, save Wolfgang who was taller than all of the Indians. This man were a fancier robe than the other. And, Susan noted with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, his hands were stained with blood. He took the large chair and sat there regally as he regarded the naked woman before him.
Her guard pushed her bound arms in an order to step forward. She did, coming to a halt only a few paces before the man with blood stained hands. For a while he said nothing, only looked into her eyes. Then he opened his mouth and made a speech. Susan could not understand a word of it, but his deep voice was made for oratory and echoed off the stone walls.
After he had his say, several of the other priests stood and made smaller, less loud speeches. Finally Wolfgang rose and had his say, often pausing as he searched for a word in a language he was still not at home in. When he sat down there was silence for a minute.
Then the head priest rose slowly. Holding one arm out as if to place his bloody hand upon her head, he spoke a couple dozen words. Then he walked out. Only after he had left, did the other rise from their chairs and began filling out of the room. Wolfgang came over to her.
"You're lucky," he told her.
"Oh?"
"You won't be put to death immediately." "But ... ?" Susan was skeptical.
"Well, you will play a part in certain rituals designed to keep the gods happy. Not all of them demand the sacrifice of a life." He paused to leer at her. "Some are happy with the screams of beautiful maidens suffering."
"So I'm to be tortured," Susan said in a surprisingly unemotional voice. "And then what?"
"There is an important day in their calendar. It marks the rising of some star group or another, I really don't understand it. But you are to be sacrificed on that morning as a special offering to all the gods. Sort of a New Year celebration. If the gods are pleased with the offering, they will allow the tribe to survive another year."
"And what if I should die from their tortures before that special day?" she asked calmly.
'They will simply sacrifice the most beautiful of the current captives, the same as they have always done. But they would rather have a beautiful blonde. They've never seen a woman with golden hair before, and they think its somehow connected to their sun god."
"And when is this to happen?"
"Ah ... Well, actually, in a little less than two weeks." Hurriedly, he added, "I tried to tell them that you should be keep alive longer than that, but these people are rather single-minded at times."
Susan looked into his dark eyes with a calm, steady stare. "And when does the torture start?"
"Right now."
Wolfgang seemed amused by the frown that flickered across her face. But she quickly recovered to tell him, "You're wrong. It began last night when you satisfied your bestial lusts upon my helpless body. And when you left me with my arms tied like this all night. I doubt my hands will recover. I cannot feel them."
Wolfgang looked behind her. "They'll be okay, they're only a little dark. I've seen worse." "I'm sure you have."
Just then another priest walked up and stood next to Susan. "Ah, time to begin," Wolfgang said. Then he stepped back and waved a generous hand as if offering the naked woman to the priest.
Her leash was taken and she was led out of the room. As she neared the door, Wolfgang called to her across the room, "Have a nice day!"
Susan Waistcote did not have a nice day.
She was led to the square where the night before she had seen an Indian maiden suffering from cruelly tight ropes twisting her body into a painfully unnatural position. The first thing she noted was that the young woman was gone, the space between the four short post was bare. She had to wonder if the scream which had awaken her that morning was the-same woman. Very likely.
Looking to the jungle around the buildings, she calculated how far she might get before a native spear plunged into her back. The man holding her rope leash did not seem to be expecting anything but a submissive, obedient prisoner. She might be able to jerk back and make a dash for the greenery beyond the square. And if she failed in her grab for freedom, well, a quick death was preferable to a slow one.
Just as she was about to tense her muscles and make her play, a voice in her ear told her, "It would not be wise."
Susan turned her head to find Wolfgang walking along side. "What would not be wise?" she asked, trying to calm her beating heart down.
"Running for it. I can read your mind. And you're wrong on both counts. You could not outrun them, and they would not kill you. They'll simply run you down, and the drag you back. And you know what they would do then? A punishment far worse than what was going to happen to you." He was grinning. "They do not like to encourage captives to try to escape, so the punishment for an attempt is rather harsh."
"Harsher than ripping my heart out?" she asked sarcastically.
"Not quite, but a lot more painful. The girls who are sacrificed only live for a short time. You should see the look on their faces when they see their own heart held up before their eyes! Priceless!"
"You're a sick bastard."
"Now, now, you shouldn't insult one of the high priests. Honorary, of course, but still a member of the ruling class." "You can go to hell!"
He laughed. "And you'll feel like you're in hell! I've seen what these people can do to make a girl suffer. I've even added a few new tortures to their arsenal. But they didn't need any help, they've been refining that art of torture over the centuries. Make the Spanish Inquisition look like choir boys."
No tart reply came to her lips. She was too scared to think of one.
"Ah, here we are. They will start you off with a simple one. Later, when you're used to the mild torments, they'll increase the severity. Have to keep you fresh and in enough pain so that you will show the gods how good their people are."
The conversation broke off there because Wolfgang stepped back to allow the guards to move Susan into the middle of the square. She was pushed down to the bricks until she was sitting with her legs stretched out before her. Then they took off her shoes, having trouble with the laces. Apparently they were not used to shoes that tied. But finally both shoes and the tattered remains of her socks were tossed aside, and a man began binding her ankles together. When he had wrapped rope around the ankles a dozen turns, he cinched it down, then ran the rest of the rope over to the post straight in front of her. He passed the end of the rope through a hole in the top stone and around it. Then he stood by with the rope in his hands, waiting for something.
Meantime, someone behind her was tying rope around the rope already on her wrists. Then that rope was passed through the hole in the post behind her. At an order from one of the priests, both men pulled on the ropes.
Susan felt her arms being pulled out behind her at the same time as her feet were being pulled forward. The tug was relentless and she felt her arms going farther and farther behind her. Eventually the movement stopped, but the pressure remained. She was leaning backwards, resting on her hands with her arms propping her up. Her legs were straight out in front of her. It felt as if they were trying to pull her apart. Her shoulders felt terrible, the strain being worst there. It was not a comfortable position to be tied in.
It was also not the most terrible form of torture. Susan had to wonder if something else would be done to her to increase the pain. Something much more unpleasant than being stretched between two posts. But nothing more was done. Most of the guards and priests who had accompanied her disbursed to other tasks, leaving only two guards who took positions outside the square on which she sat and already looked bored.
It was early morning and already the day was hot. The humid air of the jungle valley did not help one's comfort, either. She bowed her head and wished that they had at least untied her arms. Even if it was only to tie her a different way, it would have been nice to get those aching elbows apart.
There was more torture, but Susan didn't discover its nature until later in the morning when she, began to have visitors. Occasionally a man would come by, pause to look at her fine, naked body on display, then go on his way. Some of the warriors made what had to be crude comments, a few offering their sexual parts to her, perhaps expecting her to accept their offer. Or they were promising her the immense satisfaction of their really great sexual prowess later. Or maybe they thought that seeing a male penis but not getting it would be additional torture for her.
But the real torment came from the women and children. Visiting the tied down and naked white woman because a tribal pastime. And most brought something for her. With what might have been curses, they hurled rotten fruits, smelly objects she didn't want to identify, and other assorted garbage. Some stung when they hit her, but mostly the missiles simply plopped on her bare skin and stuck there to slowly ooze down. Before noon, she was covered with foul smelling debris. Sometimes they laughed at her repulsion, but mostly they just enjoyed it. The little children of both sexes delighted in throwing small stones at her, the boys especially trying to bounce the pebbles off her large breasts. They did make good targets with her forced to lean backward that way.
The other part of the torment slowly became apparent as her enforced position became more and more uncomfortable. Her back ached, the shoulders and arms continued their complaints, and she found it awkward to hold her head upright. At times she let it hang down in front, but that wasn't very comfortable, either.
After a while, she realized that she did have one option. She could let herself fall to one side and lay on the stone pavement. But once she did, it was obvious, she would be unable to regain a seated position. For a long time, she considered the advantage of laying down. It might, she reasoned, ease the strain upon her shoulders. If it did that enough, perhaps she could even get some sleep. The night before she had not slept very well at all.
In the afternoon, a new torment was added. Some of the children came back, this time with small branches broken from trees, then stripped of leaves and smaller branches. Some hesitantly, other bravely, they approached the tethered woman and lifted their switches. The blows were not very hard, except from some of the older children, but they stung. And worst, she could not protect herself from them. The little tykes whipped her back, sides, but especially her breasts. They seemed to find endless amusement in bringing their switches down upon her globes and watching them bounce. A few even hit her hard enough to leave a red spot or line upon the smooth skin. It was worst when one of the branches happened to land directly upon her nipples. Then she yelled in pain and tried to jerk her body away from the blows.
A few chose her legs and covered the topes of her thighs with crisscrossed red lines. But most delighted in striking repeatedly upon her breasts.
Finally, as she jerked away from one blow that really hurt her poor tit, Susan felt herself falling to the side. With a cry, she landed upon the hard stones. But her new position did not deter the sweet little darlings from their task. In fact, it exposed her bottom as a new target for their switches. Eventually they grew tired of the sport. Perhaps it was because they could no longer evoke a good response out of the naked white woman. She would only lay there on her side, crying softly to herself, and unmoving, no matter how hard they struck.
It was as the sun was approaching the tree tops, that a couple priests came to untie her. Earlier, she might have been grateful when she was lifted to her feet and the ropes removed from her arms. But she only cried a little more as the pain of returning circulation made her arms tingle and ache. Her shoulders felt as if they didn't want to allow her arms to come forward, so stiff were they.
When the pain subsided, and the woman ceased her crying, they grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her again, this time to bind the wrists in a crossed position. Susan said nothing. What could she say? She was their captive, they could do with her as they wished.
What they did do to her was to place another rope noose around her neck for a leash, and take her to a well where bucket after bucket of cold water was splashed over her body to wash away the garbage. When she was cleaner and smelling a little nicer, they marched her off to Wolfgang's home. Apparently he was allowed to play with the captive when she wasn't being tortured.
He did feed her, and for that she was grateful, having eaten nothing for a long time. She didn't even mind having to eat with her mouth only.
After the meal, Wolfgang led her to his bedroom where he tied her again over the railing at the foot of his bed. This time he left her hands crossed behind her, spread her legs, and used the rope from her neck to hold her bent over the wooden rail.
Susan expected him to once again use her rectum for his sexual pleasure, but he surprised her. Reaching between her legs, his fingers found and spread her labia. Then his other hand teased her clit until it was swollen and she was moaning. Then the hand disappeared only to reappear a moment later with a glob of jell at the end of one finger. The jell was smeared over her clit and around that sensitive place. Then the hands were gone.
Susan looked up to see Wolfgang wiping his hand on a cloth. "Just wait," he told her with a smile, as if she had a choice in the matter.
It was slow to start but once the itching began between her legs, it grew to a torment of major proportions. Her hands twisted in the ropes, fingers fluttering uselessly, and her body shifted from side to side.
"What the hell did you do?" she finally asked as the itching increased beyond anything she had ever experienced. This type of itching was not an annoyance, it was a torture! The craving to reach down and scratch madly was almost overpowering.
"It is called 'comezon asesino,' and it comes when you crush the pedals of a yellow flower. Makes you itch like crazy, doesn't it?"
Susan moaned.
"And it lasts a long time. When placed on a woman who is tied up and cannot touch herself, it is real agony. As you will be finding very soon.
"It's terrible! Oh, gawd! Let me touch myself!" Susan pleaded. "It's terrible."
Her fingers stretched to their limit, but came no where near where she wanted to scratch. She shook her shoulders violently but the ropes continued to hold her prisoner to both the wooden rail and the toxic substance that burned and itched beyond words to describe.
After a few more minutes to let her work up into a good but useless struggle, he stepped up behind her and put his finger into the entrance of her vagina. It was, as he expected, very moist. Taking some of the juice with two fingers, he annotated the entrance to her anus, then positioned himself for the plunge into her rear.
"Please ... Please don't do that! Oh, stop this itch. I can't stand it!"
Wolfgang plunged in with all his weight. His shaft sank deeply into her. She cried out at the pain. But she did not cease her struggles. He began a slow pumping action, enjoying the tightness of that orifice, and the delightful way she wiggled her ass.
Using the yellow jell to make a woman wiggle while being reamed in the rear was something he taught natives. They were delighted. Taking a woman in the "back door" was nothing new to them, but when she was wiggling, moaning and otherwise looking and sounding as if she were in the heat of a massive orgasm, made the act much more pleasurable. For the man, that is. It was just a pain in the ass for the women.
Wolfgang came to a climax within Susan's rear, withdrew, wiped himself clean, then lay on his bed to watch the continuing struggles and torment of this lovely young woman. The way her big breasts bounced and swayed back and forth as she fought the ropes was delightful. And the sounds of agony that came from her were wonderful. Before long his prick was growing hard again and he considered a repeat performance. But instead he jerked off as he watched her struggles. It wasn't as good as the first climax, but the second usually isn't.
An hour later, Wolfgang called for guards to take the captive back to her cell, he was done with her for the night. With her hands left bound behind her, she was tossed into her cell and the door locked firmly behind her. For a long time she continued to twitch and moan and move her body as the itching slowly faded into nothing more than a very unpleasant memory. She even got some sleep later.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Deep in the Pit
Susan saw some other captives as she was led to and from her cell. They were all Indian maidens, all looking defeated. She hoped that she would never get to looking so hopeless as they, but it was hard to keep one's spirits up when faced with the future she was. Most of them were chained with heavy iron shackles, often locked to rings set into the stone walls. On the second day, Wolfgang told her that the chains and shackles had come from the wreckage of a ship and traded to them by other Indians. Apparently there were not enough shackles to go around, for about half the girls were simply bound with ropes.
On the morning of the second day, she was again awaken by the sound of a woman's scream. She shivered in the corner of her cell and prayed that somehow she would find a way out of there before it was her turn.
That day they showed her a hole in the ground. It was only about three feet across and looked to have been dug out rather than natural. Two poles were set into the ground on either side, with a crosspiece lashed to them. A thick rope was hanging over the crosspiece, both ends sitting on the ground, one of them quite long and coiled up. She had a bad feeling about this.
Her hands were still tied cross behind her back, and they left them that way. Another length of rope was used to bind her ankles together. Then the end of the thicker rope was brought over. It had a loop tied in the end, and to that they tied the rope from her ankles. After that, there was only the task of lifting her into the air and then lowering her into the darkness of the ground.
As she felt her legs rising, she sucked in air and wanted to scream. Her body slide along the ground until she reached the edge of the pit, then gave out with a cry as she slipped over. Her head fell down until she was in a totally inverted position, hanging with her head and breasts already below the surface. Then they began to slowly lower her.
"No!" she cried, greatly fearful of what might lay down below in the dark. She heard laughter from above. Quickly she tested the rope binding her wrists behind her, but she had done that already many times during the night. It was just as tightly in place as always. The ropes digging into her ankles hurt, but the fear was far worse. There is a primitive fear of the dark, and of being deep in the earth. Sunlight slanted down a few feet, then ceased as if cut with a knife. As she descended below the warmth of the sun, she shivered. Her lips moved as she repeated over and over that they wanted her alive for the special ritual, they would not allow her to die now. They couldn't!
by straining her head, she could see the circle of light beyond her feet, growing smaller and smaller. Around her the walls seemed to close in. She could barely see in the dark, but the at times she could sense bare earth very near her.
Suddenly she jerked to a halt, which made her sway from side to side. The motion made her bump into the sides. They felt hard and slimy. For a while nothing happened beyond her swaying slowing until she hung still in the dark. Then there was some sounds from above and a bit of dirt fell down to strike her. For a brief moment she feared that they were pouring dirt in to fill up the hole with her far below the surface. But it was only a handful of dirt, not the deluge she feared.
The small circle of light, however, did diminish until it was gone. They had covered up the top with something! Susan felt panic clawing at her mind. She was going to die down there, she knew it. Without reason, she jerked and tugged at her bound wrists until the motion set her banging into the walls again. Then she forced herself to calm down by repeating over and over that they did not want to kill her. Not yet.
Slowly her breathing returned to something near normal, and she let herself hang motionless. How long? was the question buzzing through her mind. Just a few minutes, enough to give her a good scare, then haul her up? An hour? She wasn't sure if a girl could stay hanging upside down for very long. Didn't the blood rush to your brain or something like that? She could feel the blood pounding in her head.
Her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness with time, and she thought that she could see movement in the darkness. Then her ears picked up the tiny clicks and scrapings. Straining, she tried to locate the source of the sound but it seemed to be from all around her. Something was down there with her, and she felt fear grab her heart again.
Just then she felt herself twisting around. It took a few seconds for her to realize that someone up there was twisting the rope so she would turn around. It was a little confusing to be turning with no reference, and she soon found herself dizzy.
Then one turn brought her arm up against the wall. It was not hard. In fact, it sort of moved, but was not soft. Then she felt the tiny legs crawling down her arm. Three or four creatures were crawling over her skin! She screamed.
From above there came laugher. They knew she had just found out what lived down in that pit. And for a naked woman hanging head down, it was a pretty horrible fate. The pit held thousands of cockroaches! Disturbed by the movement and heat of her body, they had begun crawling around the walls. And when she came, in contact with the wall, some were transferred to her.
They continued to turn the rope, making her twist in the darkness. And occasionally come in contact with the sides. Her screams were highly amusing and they got a big laugh, even if they couldn't understand the words she was screaming. The rope, where it came out from between the skins they had set over the hole, jerked and bounced round, and they could just imagine the naked woman dancing around at the end of her rope, trying to shake the bugs off.
Half an hour later they hauled her up. As her body came out of the hole, she was babbling in her strange language, her eyes clamped tight shut, and her hands made into fists. There were still several dozen cockroaches clinging to her body, but most dropped off when the sun light hit them. The rest were flicked off by the guards, including a couple who had tried to burrow into her pubic hair to hide.
When they got her on the ground and her ankles untied, she began to cry, great tears falling onto the bare earth. She seemed to be unable to stand, so they carried her to the place where she would be tortured for the afternoon. They didn't mind, she had a nice body and they used the opportunity to feel it all over.
The afternoon was spent in a very painful bit of bondage, most unpleasant and uncomfortable. But at least it wasn't in the dark, and there weren't terrible crawling bugs.
There was a pole sunk into the ground, a piece of tree" trunk about four inches in diameter. Lashed to the top was an arm sticking out about three feet, and around five feet off the ground. That was all, just the pole and arm. Then made her kneel under the arm and backed her up until her back was against the pole and her legs around it. Then they tied her ankles together in the crossed position. Her wrists were then untied but immediately retied with the palms facing each other rather than crossed. The cinch rope from that was passed up and over the arm above her, then pulled.
Susan found herself having to lean forward. But with her feet tied behind the pole, she could not balance herself. She fell, and was immediately caught by the rope on her wrists. The continued to pull some more, until she was stretched out, her legs around the pole, and her arms almost straight up behind her. Her body was completely off the ground, supported mainly by her arms wretched up behind her.
It was not comfortable, and grew far worse as the afternoon progressed. The strain on her arms and shoulders made them ache until she was moaning softly.
"You make a pretty sight."
Susan looked up to find Wolfgang looking down at her. "Kind of gets to you, no?" he inquired. "Looks like a real strain on your arms." "Go to hell."
"Oh, my, aren't we a bit testy?"
She looked up with eyes showing the strain upon her, and asked, "Do these people really have to torture innocent girls to please their gods?"
"They think they do. And that's all that counts, no? Actually, I think it is simply human nature. Man has always enjoyed hurting other men. And women."
Wolfgang squatted down so she didn't have to strain so much to make eye contact. "These people descended from a race that once controlled most of Mexico. They were feared by all other tribes and were incredibly wealthy. Then the white men came. Overnight their culture was destroyed. Between the white men's guns and disease, these people didn't have a chance. This group fled down here. In this valley they found these temples. I guess they were left here by some race that predates even the Aztecs. Well, they cleared out the jungle and took over."
"Where do they get all these captives?" Susan asked. "If they really sacrifice one a day, they must have a source of many young women."
"There are other Indian tribes around. And sometimes they raid outside the valley. But it doesn't really take that much. Only three hundred and sixty-five per years. More lives than that are taken in a few minutes of your average war. And these lives go to assure that the universe continues. They consider it a small price."
Susan let her head hang. She was tired and sore. Without looking up, she said, "Not a small price if it's you."
"Maybe. I'll have you brought to my house again tonight."
"Don't do me any favors," she said bitterly. "It hurts to have you shove that thing up my ass."
"Okay. We'll do something else tonight."
Susan suddenly looked up. She had forgotten that she was still a virgin, and that this man did not know that. If he were to use her normal hole, then her status as pure and virgin would be ruined.
But what the hell difference did it make? Susan sighed. Let him take it. At least I'll know what it's like to have a man inside me, she told herself. The right way, that is.
Wolfgang walked away and Susan continued to hang and ache.
An hour later they came for her. She was given corn meal and water, then taken to Wolfgang's house. Her hands were tied behind her, and the leash hung from her neck down her front, but otherwise she was free.
As she stood in his bedroom, awaiting whatever game he wanted to play that night, she considered making a run for it. With her hands tied, she didn't expect to get very far. But she thought she knew where the pool was, and if she could make it that far, she could throw herself over the edge and be with Luke. A better fate, she almost said aloud, than days of torture ending with a knife in your chest.
"Come over here." It was Wolfgang pointing to the sleeping furs. "Kneel down here."
Susan obeyed and knelt while he changed the bondage on her arms. He was using rope from Luke's saddlebag, she noted. First he pulled her hands up behind her back, high up, between her shoulder blades. Then he tied the wrists crossed. That might have been enough to keep her hands up there, but he added some rope around her chest just above her breasts, and tied her wrists to that. Then he added a couple ropes over her shoulders to the ropes across the front. When he was finished, her hands were high on her back and there was no way she could pull them back down. Or untie the ropes.
"I have a little device that I invented," he told her when her arms were disposed off. "One night I was laying her, having a captive maiden such as yourself performing oral sex on me, you know, sucking me off. Her hands were tied behind her, but I found out the hard way that a woman can be dangerous when she has your precious tool in her mouth. Fortunately she didn't bite down too hard and all I had was a sore pecker for a few days." Then he laughed, "And you should have seen what happened to her.
"But it got me to thinking. How can a man assure that a woman who doesn't like him will not be able to hurt him when he's using her mouth. Then I came up with this." he showed her a circle of wood, obviously carved, and with two leather strips coming off the sides. "Let me show you how it works."
She was forced to open her mouth wide, and the ring was inserted within. He turned it so that the ring was wedged behind her teeth and forcing her mouth wide open. Then he tied the strips behind her head. She found that she could not dislodge the ring with her tongue, nor could she close her mouth.
"See? You cannot close your mouth. You cannot bite down. And your soft, warm, moist mouth is open and available. Ingenious, no?"
Susan found that the gag also made speech difficult when she tried to tell him what an asshole he was.
The next phase in the preparation of a captive maiden for the night's entertainment was to bind her legs together. He did that slowly, taking an enjoyment in placing each winding of the ropes carefully in place, and cinching them all down very tightly. When he finished, her legs were bound at the ankles, just below the knees, and again just above the knees. And the ropes were cutting very deeply into her soft flesh.
Susan was feeling rather helpless. Her hands were useless tied that way, and now she couldn't move her legs apart at all.
Wolfgang smiled at her. "You look beautiful," he told her. "Such a fine body. And so very helpless!" He took off his clothes and lay on the furs next to her sitting form. "Do you know how to give a good blow job, as you American's call it?"
Susan honestly didn't know what he was talking about.
"No? Well, it is of little importance. With that gag, I can simply use your mouth as I would your cunt."
He grabbed a breast and squeezed hard enough to make her whine. "I shall have to train you to give a good blow job. Some of the Indian girls are whipped until they can please a man with only their mouths. They learn very quickly. But for tonight, we shall simply use your mouth. Please lay on your back."
Susan didn't want to, but she felt so very helpless with those tight ropes pressing tight against her limbs. She swung her feet around and lowered herself to her side, falling the last loot or so due to a total lack of hands. Then she rolled over until she was laying on her bound arms with her legs stretched out before her. It reminded her a little of when Luke had tied her and made her lay on her back while he used his tongue to drive her crazy. But this was a different man and planning to do different things to her.
Running his hands over her body, he stimulated nerves in many sensitive places. He teased the nipples, and squeezed the breasts until Susan was panting with an excitement she could not prevent. Finally he was ready and straddled her chest, placing his knees along side her breasts. Then he leaned forward and his rigid tool came towards her gagged mouth. The full impact of what he was going to do came to her and she wanted to cry out that it was a dirty thing to do. But she knew such protests would be useless for this man who controlled her body totally.
She felt the blunt and soft head of his prick slide over her longue, and had to fight to keep from gagging. He was supporting himself on his arms, which left his hips free to pump, exactly the same as if he were entering a woman's vagina for the normal sex act. And pump he did, with long strokes that drove his rod deep into her mouth until she was gagging, then almost all the way out. At the end of each stroke, she felt it press against her throat and could not help herself from almost choking.
She had done much the same thing for Luke, using her mouth on his penis to make him feel good. But this was different -this was more of a rape than lovemaking. She didn't want his foul rod inside her mouth, but could do nothing about it. When he shot his load into her, she gagged but swallowed it all.
Then he was out and Susan had all she could do to keep from turning her head aside and throwing up.
Apparently Wolfgang had found it very pleasing and satisfying, for he put his arm around Susan's shoulders as they lay on the furs. She found it repulsive, yet it was almost exactly the same as Luke had held her in the bed on the train. Her arms hurt from being tied that way, and the gag was none too comfortable, either. But she simply lay there, enduring his attentions. Eventually she fell asleep and actually slept better than she had any night since being captured. In the morning, her mouth hurt and was extremely dry. She could not feel her hands and her feet were a little cold. But Wolfgang found her condition very much to his liking. He poured water into her open mouth to wet it, then use it again as if it were a woman's vagina, pumping hard and vigorously, then coming in spurts of warm fluid that she hated.
Then it was off to an insufficient meal and the day's tortures.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sodomy on High
The sky was a brilliant blue and totally clear save for a line of gray clouds across one horizon, the venting of a distant volcano. Susan would have enjoyed the view had she not been in some degree of pain. Considerable pain, in fact.
The top of one of their temples rose above the surrounding trees to provide a spectacular view of the valley and the distant surrounding mountains. Only the Temple of the Sun rose higher, and upon the platform of that pyramid she could see a stone altar, a grim reminder of her eventual fate.
It was upon this temple that Susan found two pillars of stone carved with intricate patterns that sometimes formed strange beasts and men with long noses, other times seemed to be merely meaningless lines and curves. Each pillar was taller than she, and only a couple feet thick. But there were circular holes drilled through the stone, two near the tops and two near the bottoms. It was those holes that they used to secure the ropes tied to her wrists and ankles. They were not gentle, quite the opposite, in fact. She was spread wide in the air between the pillars, her feet off the floor and her limbs straining until she thought they might be pulled from their sockets. Then she was left alone to enjoy the view and endure the discomfort of being spread-eagle in mid-air.
As the sun climbed out of the far away smoke, she began to think that she was simply going to be left there for the whole day. Already her wrists hurt and her hands were numb since most of her weight was taken by them. But in mid-morning a precession of priests ascended her temple, each dressed in their colorful robes and accompanied by several guards of the warrior class. They all stood respectably around her while one intoned strange, harsh sounding words, occasionally turning his head upwards and directing his utterances to the heavens. But what sort of god he was praying to, she had no idea.
The praying priest was standing before her, so when he made a gesture to one of the guards, she saw it and saw the man walk around behind her. Then she suddenly was jerking her body forward, causing the ropes to painfully snub her wrists and ankles. A burst of pain had without warning appeared in her bare bottom. Looking back over her shoulders, she saw the guard holding a short stick in his hand. At the end of that stick were attached a handful of leather thongs, maybe eight or nine. It was with that whip he had struck her ass and caused a surprising amount of pain. The impact of each tong felt as if it were a single whip, which was because the man was skillful and swung the flogger in such a way as to spread the thongs out so they would strike individually.
"Oh!" she cried as the next blow caught the small of her back just above her buttocks. Then another one landed just below her bottom, reddening the tops of her thighs. The pain was not terrible, not unbearable. But it did hurt. And she felt very vulnerable hanging there with every inch of her bare skin available for the whip to find. There was not a bit of he that could not be beaten, from the bottoms of her feet up to her face.
And very little was left unmarked as the morning progressed. First her back was covered, starting with her bottom and worked both upwards and downwards until he was whipping her shoulders and the bottoms of her feet with wicked upward swings that made the tips of the thongs sting the soft soles of her feet.
Susan cried out as the lash marked her skin, yet she knew in the back of her mind that this was only a light whipping, something to make her skin sting and burn but not leave marks or inflict serious pain. But between being suspended off the ground and the whipping, it was rather unpleasant. When he came around to the other side, she cried out for him not to strike her breasts, but, of course, she was ignored. The flogger, which so much resembled the pictures of pirates cato-nine-tails she had seen, began at her breasts and worked down.
It was most unpleasant when her lovely breasts were being whipped, no woman wants to have her breasts beaten in any way. But this whip only reddened the skin and hurt, it did not leave marks. And he eventually moved down to her tummy, then hips and then thighs, eventually reaching her ankles where he added some cuts upward into the soft part of her feet. She tried to curl her toes down to protect that sensitive area, but the ends of the lash curled up around them to strike the target.
The whipping proceeded slowly, allowing her full time to experience each stroke and each bit of pain. The sun was almost overhead when the man with the whip finally let his weary arm fall to his side and the leather thongs no longer sought her soft flesh.
It was then that a strange thing happened. Most of the handful of men who were standing around, either praying or just watching, departed when the whipping was over. But one priest remained. For a bit he looked at her, but she could read nothing behind the hideous mask he wore, nor even see his body behind that feathered robe. Finally he walked around behind her towards the steep stairs leading down. As he passed her, his hand swatted her bare bottom.
One swat, that was all. And it left Susan puzzled. It had been hard enough to make sure she noticed it, but not nearly as hard as he could have struck her bottom. She found it strange that it was only a single spank to her bottom, and not very hard at that.
There was one other torture inflicted upon her person before she was untied and brought down from that pyramid. More of a humiliation than a torture, but it did also hurt. After she had hung there for half an hour, she heard footsteps behind her. She did not look around, but could sense someone standing behind her. Had she looked around, she would have seen one of the warriors pushing aside his loin cloth to expose a cock already at attention from the sight of her lovely body. He smeared some kind of cream upon that erect cock then positioned himself close to her spread-eagled body. The naked woman gasped as his hands roughly grabbed her ass, then they spread it wide and suddenly his shaft was rammed into her rear.
Susan cried out with surprise and pain. It felt as if a log were being shoved up there and she feared some muscles might tear. But that did not happen, and as the man pumped away inside her, she realized that anyone looking up to that temple could see what was happening to her. It shamed her, even though it should not have. There was nothing she could do, yet she felt strangely ashamed and embarrassed that this was being done to her right out in a public place.
She had lost that embarrassment after the sixth man had done it to her that afternoon. Each time she heard someone coming up behind her, she feared that this new man would use the normal channel for such things, and that would mean the loss of her beloved virginity. But each of them preferred the back door, and her virginity remained intact. At one point she wondered if perhaps they knew of her status and were saving it so that the sacrifice would be a virgin. Vaguely, she remembered reading someplace that virgins were the preferential material for sacrifices to gods.
by the time the tenth man came up behind her, Susan was getting good enough to guess at the difference in size of the rod being shoved up her bottom. And her bottom seemed to be able to take the large ones easier. Maybe something was stretching. Or perhaps she was simply becoming used to being raped there and her muscles were not so tense.
And there were times when it was almost a sensual feeling as a large male was pumping away in her. But she told herself that there was no way she could feel sexual excitement from having something shoved up her ass. No way.
Still....
Well, there was lot she didn't know about sexual matters. But she did know that it was, at the very least, uncomfortable, and that the jerking and pushing against her body made the ropes about her wrists and ankles hurt. By the time the sun was lowering in the sky, she had lost count of the ravishing of her bottom and simply hung limp within her bounds, her head hanging down. Even when a new man came up to use her, she hardly opened her eyes. On the stone floor beneath her, there accumulated a pool of spent sperm fluid that leaked out.
When she was taken down, they led her to a well where she was dosed with buckets of cold water, some thrown up her ass while her legs were held spread wide apart. Then she was taken to a simple meal and Wolfgang's bedroom once again. All the while the unfortunate white woman was walking with stiff legs for her rear ached.
"I saw what they were doing to you up there," Wolfgang told her. "You have to understand one thing about these people, they quite often prefer a woman's rear to the front. For one thing, it's a natural form of birth control. For another, it's simply a reflection of their nature. The men of the tribe will as often as not pick on another man when they have the urge to screw something."
Susan was disgusted. "I suppose you'll again show me how much you like it that way?"
Wolfgang laughed. "Still have some spirit! Good! But I am civilized. I can use your other hole just as easily. If you're too sore back there...."
"What another one?" she said, casually as she could. She was sore, no doubt about that, but she also, for reasons she could not explain herself, wanted to preserve her virginity.
Silly notion under the circumstances, but still she clung to it. But, if she should lose it, she would not cry too much. At least she would find out what normal lovemaking was like before she died. If only it were with Luke....
Her wrists were already tied behind her back, so all he had to do was bind her ankles, then insert and tie in place the circular gag he had made. After that, it was a simple matter to rape her in the mouth, pumping away as joyfully as the men had that afternoon on the temple top.
Susan didn't know which she hated worse, being taken in the rear or having that thing shoved down her throat.
When his lust was sated, Wolfgang did not let Susan sleep with him that night. She was hauled away back to her cell to sleep with wrists bound behind her back, but otherwise unfettered.
The next morning, she was taken away for fresh tortures.
There was a public place where a great many people passed by, sort of a market place, but next to a temple. At one end of the place there had been constructed a frame made of stout wooden poles. It was like a large box without sides. And it was tall, at least ten feet above the ground. Susan was led to that and her hands untied from behind her to be retied before her. Then the rope was thrown over one of the top sides and she was pulled up until her hands almost touched the horizontal pole. That placed hw feet about the level of the men's chests. They then tied her ankles together and under them hung a large basket. Susan looked down and wondered about that basket. It was empty but surely would not remain so. Why else would it be tied there? It wasn't heavy enough to cause her any discomfort. Then it struck her. There, on the ground, was another identical basket. And it was filled with small pebbles, hundreds of them.
It became a community torture. Each time someone would pass by the hanging, naked woman, they would pick up one pebble from the supply and drop it into the basket hanging from her ankles. The first twenty or thirty pebbles were hardly noticeably. But as the number slowly increased, so did the pull upon her ankles. And that increased the discomfort in her bound wrists.
The stones were sometimes tossed in with no emotion on the tosser's face, as if it were simply a task to be done. But others laughed and exchanged comments with each other as they added to the weight pulling at her body. She noted that some of those tossing in rocks were familiar, and realized that many of the woman, men, and children were making repeated trips by her so they could add to her torment.
The basket grew heavier, the ropes tighter upon her wrists and ankles, and she felt as if her body were being pulled apart. By the time the basket was half filled, Susan was not happy with this arrangement. She began talking to the people, asking them not to add to her suffering, begging at times for some of them to take rocks out of the basket under her. But not one seemed to understand her words, or care.
by the time the basket had reached three quarters filled, she was wondering if it were possible there would be enough weight to pull her arms from their sockets. It felt as if that was what was happening. Each time another stone clicked into those already tormenting her, she moaned.
Each time a priest walked by, she tried to tell him that she was being torn apart, and if they wanted a whole sacrifice, they ought to let her down. Or at least take some of the stones out of the basket. Her pleas were ignored, of course.
A few of the children thought it funny to throw the stones so that they hit her in the breasts, tummy, or pubic patch, then fell down to the basket. That was a game to them; a torment to the hanging woman.
When the stones reached to top of the basket, Susan was hanging limp and was certain that any single additional stone would be the straw that broke the camel's back, and cause her body to be ripped apart. Had you asked, she would have told you that she was certainly at least six inches taller that she had been that morning.
With the supply of stones gone, all doing their job to torture Susan, the people passing by had little they could do to add to her suffering. Some of the kids, however, hit on the idea of pushing the basket and making it swing-back and forth. It didn't swing much, but each time it evoked groan and moans of pain from the naked woman, and that was fun.
"You look like you're suffering," said a voice in English.
She looked up to see Wolfgang standing there, grinning at her. "Go to hell," she told him with very little force behind the words.
"Maybe, maybe. But right now I'll bet I can make you suffer much worse and it has nothing to do with more weight in your basket."
"Don't bother," she said.
"Oh, it's no bother. In fact, it would be a pleasure. Are you ticklish?"
Susan would have gone stiff at that suggestion had her body not already been very taunt. She was, indeed, very ticklish and the idea of being tickled in that condition was frightening.
"I'm not," she insisted.
"Lair. I saw the flash of fear on your face. You are ticklish, and you know that you would unable to keep your body from jerking and moving if I tickled you. Where should I start? Hmmmm....On the sides? Or on the bottom of your feet. Is that area under your toes particularly sensitive? I have a feather here."
He did, indeed, a long, gray feather from some large bird. He approached her, holding it up so she could see it clearly.
"Please...." she whined. "Aren't I suffering enough?"
"No. Besides, this isn't real torture." He smiled at her. "And you know it."
Susan knew. Over the last few days she had personally seen torments of different types, and done a lot of thinking about what they could do to her. And remembering what she had read in the books about the Spanish Inquisition or the Salem witch hunts. Or just everyday human cruelty. She knew that there was far more painful tortures.
But that didn't mean she wanted to be tickled. When he was within a foot of her hanging body, he slowly reached out and traced a light line across her stomach with the tip of the feather. Susan forced herself not to react. With patience, he began gently stimulating nerves along side her stretched body, lightly touching with the tip of the feather, teasing here, flicking here. Susan almost bit her tongue trying to keep from laughing. And she made every effort from moving her body, certain that if she began jerking, the stress on her body could only get worse.
Wolfgang must have done this before, for he knew where a great many of the nerves in a woman's body are. Despite her best efforts, a giggle or snicker slipped out. Then he began tickling the bottoms of her feet, and laughter just wouldn't stay within. "Ohhhh! Nooooo!" she cried out and tried to bat away the feather with her toes, a hopeless task.
Her laughter began to attack a crowd of smiling Indians of all ages. The crowd knew that this white woman was trying her hardest not to move, and they appreciated how much torment tickling can be. After stroking her sides, under her arms, and the bottoms of her feet, he handed the feather to a youngster and offered to let him have at the bottom of her feet. Then he produced a dozen more feathers and handed them out. After that he stepped back to watch.
The Indians were relentless and cruel in their use of the feathers. Resistance was futile and soon she was giggling and crying out for mercy, mixed with laugher she could not control. Especially cruel were the women who attacked her breasts and the soft flesh of the inner thighs just below her furry triangle. And one woman was delighted when she found that Susan was especially sensitive behind the knees.
Above the heads of the crowd, Wolfgang could see Susan's frantic expressions, an every-changing display of pain, laughter, and mental agony. The fingers of her bound hands alternately formed into fists and fluttered uselessly.
When Wolfgang walked away, Susan was almost screaming for mercy, for this torture to cease, and calling down numerous curses upon the head of one Wolfgang Smidt. He only smiled.
Eventually they grew tried of tickling the helpless girl, but not until she had almost fainted from the stress of laughing so hard that her sides hurt and the forces trying to tear her body apart. Early in the evening, Wolfgang and a couple guards came to let her down.
On the way back to his house, a funny thing happened. A woman, not too old nor too young, came up and said something to Wolfgang. Susan did not understand the language, but she did see Wolfgang smile. Then he nodded at the woman, who followed them to his house. Susan was having trouble walking because her limbs were weak, but only her hands were tied, and she made it to Wolfgang's dwelling.
"This woman is mad at you," he told her as soon as they entered the main room. "She says that because you offered your asshole to her husband -twice, she says -she will get no sex tonight. She blames you and has asked me to force you to give her sexual satisfaction to replace what she won't get from her husband."
Susan snorted. On top of the other indignities and crazy treatment she had suffered today, this woman wanted her to take the place of her husband. "You can just tell her that I don't have the right equipment to replace her husband," Susan said.
"Oh, but you do. No cock, but you have a tongue."
Suddenly Susan realized what he meant and started backing away. "No, no, no! I won't do that. I'm not that kind of woman."
"Every woman is," said Wolfgang calmly.
Susan suddenly felt something large and solid behind her. It was a guard. She would not be getting out that door.
Wolfgang said something to the woman, who then smiled and disappeared into his bedroom. "Come here," he ordered. When Susan obeyed, he took her bare arm and led her into the bedroom. On the fur bedding, the native woman had already tossed off her clothes (not much to begin with in that warm climate) and was laying on the fur, her legs spread wide and a silly grin on her face.
"The woman like to nibble on each other," Wolfgang said. "But the men don't like it. They feel that the only sexual pleasure a women gets should come from her husband. And in the way he wants to give it to her. This woman is about to enjoy something she can only have by sneaking around behind her husband's back. And hiding it from every other man so they won't tell him. Go ahead and get started."
"But I've never done this," wailed Susan. "I don't know how."
"Have you ever had someone licking you down there?"
"Well ... Yes," she replied, reluctantly.
"Then just do to her what you liked having done to you. Simple, no?"
Susan sighed. "I can't. It's ... It's repulsive."
"Did you enjoy it when someone did it to you?"
"Well...." Susan was remembering how wonderful the tongue of Luke had been, how incredibly excited she had become.
"If you're going to take it, you have to give it out."
Susan wasn't sure about that general rule, but it appeared she had little choice.
'Tomorrow you'll be punished again," Wolfgang told her, "but you can get additional punishment tonight if you don't obey."
Susan got down on her knees and crawled up between the brown legs. She bent down to bring her mouth to where it could do the assigned task. And lost her balance and fell headfirst into the girl. She had no hands to help balance herself, after all.
"Get back up," ordered Wolfgang. When she did, he spoke a few words to the woman, and she put her hands on her bottom. Then she lifted her hips while resting on her elbows, to present her pussy to Susan's mouth. This time was able to reach her goal.
It was unpleasant at first. There were strange smells from that place, and Susan was embarrassed at doing something with another woman. But using her tongue and lips, she managed to push aside the curly hair and the labia. Then she whined a small protest and her tongue began to lick.
The woman liked what Susan was doing. That was obvious from the noises she was making and the wiggles of her hips. Susan continued licking, hoping that the woman would soon reach some kind of successful climax and she could stop. The taste of another woman was unpleasant -yet ... It was a strong feeling to know that she was making that woman feel very good. The sexual excitement was obvious, both in the erection of the clitoris, and the increasing noises this woman was making.
Suddenly there was a sharp sound and a sting on Susan's bottom. Wolfgang had swatted her there with his bare hand. "She says to speed it up," he told her with a grin.
Susan did, and was rewarded with a loud animal grunt and the woman shaking all over. Then she rolled away and curled up into a ball. A minute later she was recovered, got to her feet, thanked Wolfgang, cast a mean glance at Susan, and marched proudly out of the room.
"Your skill will be talked about among the woman," he told her. "Others will probably come to me, asking for the same service. Hope you're up to it."
"Mr. Smidt, you are a bastard," she said as she sat on the fur, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.
"Not really. I believe my parents were married. At least they said they were. Perhaps you have some information I do not?"
Wolfgang laughed at her. Then he put the ring gag in her mouth and used her until he, like the woman before him, had his sexual satisfaction.
The act of being raped in the mouth was still degrading and highly unpleasant for Susan. Later she was hauled off to her cell. The next day brought a change in her routine.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Susan Learns More About Her Sacrifice, and Doesn't Like It
"These people have a different view of life from ours," Wolfgang was telling Susan.
It was the next morning and Susan was already being tortured for the whole village to observe and know that the gods were being appeased. She had been taken back to that wooden framework near the market place, and again bound under the crosspiece. This time, her legs were tied together, her arms behind her with the elbows tight together, and then a rope from her bound wrists tossed over the beam. When that was pulled up, her arms were lifted behind her, higher and higher, until she was forced to lean forward. Then the arms went still higher, forcing her back into a more upright position. When the knots were tied, she was almost standing straight up, but her shoulders almost dislocated by the pressure on them. Her hands were far above her head. And she was on her toes, trying to relieve the strain.
"They are very big into the afterlife. They believe that when you die here, you will go to Mictlan, a cold, cheerless place of nothingness in the underworld. But there is a heaven, too. It is the abode of the sun god Tonatiu. There all is light and airy and warm. Plenty of food, sex, etc. Some of the dead can go there, those who fell in battle or die on the sacrificial altar. Back when the Aztecs ruled most of this land, thousands of people were sacrificed every year. From what these priests tell me, probably tens of thousands."
Susan, who had been letting her head hang down, looked up at the only other non-Indian in the valley and asked, "Does that mean that women can't get into heaven? They don't fight in battles do they? And the locals aren't the ones sacrificed, are they?"
"A woman can get into heaven if she dies in childbirth. That way she gives up her life to bear a future warrior."
"But why do they send their enemies to heaven? All those captives, I mean."
"I wondered about that, too. Basically, it has to do with their believe of the world. They believe that in the past, there were four "suns" or worlds. After the first, men were eaten by jaguars. The second world was destroyed by hurricanes. And the third by fire. The forth by floods. This world will be ended by earthquakes, which they have a lot of around here. The only way to prevent this is to feed the sun a constant supply of human blood. That staves off the end of the world."
He patted her bare bottom affectionately. "If they have no captives, then they will use one of their own people."
Susan moaned, both from the stress of her position and the nature of these blood-thirsty people.
Wolfgang continued his lecture, obviously enjoying it. "The old way used to be for four priests to hold the victim spread on the altar, then a fifth cut out the heart with a stone knife. But I told them that the sacrifices were done differently in my country." He laughed. "More fun. Now they do it my way. First the victim is hauled up to the top of the Temple of the Sun, with her hands bound behind her, such as yours are now, with the elbows tightly tied together. Then she's laid down on her back on the stone altar and tied down. Sometimes her legs are tied down, also, but other times they are left free. The important part is that she cannot move the top part of her body. That position also make her chest stick up very nicely. Get the picture?" Susan did not reply.
"Well, when she's tied down, then the proper prayers can be said. They used to drug the captives so they wouldn't fight so much, but I got them to stop that. Told them that the pure, raw fear the victims feels will be known to the gods and please them. So she's told what will happen to her and allowed to lay there, completely helpless, while she thinks about it. The sky lightens, then as the very first ray of sunlight strikes the temple, down comes the knife and out goes the heart."
"You're sick," Susan muttered.
"Well, they're happy. This way all the priests get to watched the fear and struggles and even the cutting out of the heart. Before they were busy holding the person down and often missed the good parts."
Susan was feeling a cold knot in the pit of her stomach. His description was creating visualizations that did nothing to cheer her up. "Go away," she finally told him.
"Just thought you would like to know what's going to happen. And only five days from today."
"Go away."
"This village have two gods they sacrifice to. One is Huitzilopochtli, the humming bird who leads them into battle. Isn't that a mouthful? The other god is Tezcatlipoca, the smoking mirror. Did you know that victims sacrificed to him are bound tightly, then thrown into glowing embers. They're left roasting like that for a while, then pulled out when their screams begin to diminish. The heart is then cut out. I've seen this done and, believe me, the tied person really struggles in those hot coals."
He paused to lift Susan's head with his hand so he could look into her eyes. "It hasn't been decided which god you'll be sacrificed to. Do you have a preference? I have some say and these are simple people. I could probably swing the debate. Which do you want, up on the temple at dawn's first light, or being tossed into the coals'? Being sacrificed to Tezcatlipoca is more of an honor. Probably because the pain is so much greater."
She tried to spit in his eye, but missed.
"Our little victim still has spirit," he said in an amused tone. "All the better. You'll make a lively sacrifice. I'll make sure that you roll around in the coals for a long time."
Then he was gone, leaving a very dispirited and depressed young woman. But her torments for the morning were not yet over. Once again the villagers were allowed to come forth and use switches cut from trees to mark up the skin of the unfortunate young woman. They mostly used the stinging little whips on her bottom, but her breasts followed up as a close second. A few others picked her thighs and flanks as their targets, and those places hurt, too. Susan cried as the switches struck her skin, stinging with each fresh red mark. Fortunately, no matter how hard the thin tree branches were swung, the skin would not break, nor would any bruise remain behind. But her bottom and breasts were turned a wonderful shade of red as she wiggled and cried. With her arms pulled up cruelly high behind her, she could not move at all, nor avoid the harsh attentions of the locals.
It seemed as if her torment continued for hours, with fresh arms replacing the tired ones. The brown skinned natives seemed to find her tears of pain fascinating and delighted in provoking fresh streams of them, accompanied by sobs and moans.
Eventually most of the people went off, having tasks of their own to accomplish, leaving only a few children who were enjoying the torment of an adult, something they rarely had a chance to do. And their parents telling them that this woman's pain was pleasing the gods so that they would get a good rainfall and the crops would grow, made the task into sort of a duty rather than misbehaving. So the little tykes wailed away upon her bare flesh, a few of them going so far as to try to whip her curly triangle. They instinctively sensed that she was very sensitive there, and a good blow would cause her to jerk around at the end of her rope.
As the sun passed directly overhead, some kind of commotion at the other end of the village drew the attention of those present and for the first time in hours, Susan was left alone.
There was no question of her freeing herself, the ropes were far too tight for that, and her hands were so numb that she could hardly move her fingers. But she tried anyway. It was too tempting to be left alone. If she could just get those ropes off her wrists, then she could untie her own legs and run off into the jungle.
She didn't go anywhere.
A little while later she noticed a large group moving towards the temple area, but could not see what was going on. It mattered little anyway, she was hurting and sore and aching, and completely helpless.
"They really marked you up."
Susan looked up to see Wolfgang standing there. "Yeah, your big, brave friends really tear into a helpless, naked woman."
He laughed. "Don't ever underestimate them in battle, they're quite good as soldiers, incredibly brave. But believing that dying in battle is one way to heaven helps. But, you are right, they are a cruel people." He slowly walked around her, noting all the places where the skin was reddened. Her whole bottom was a mass of red lines, and the flesh was a little swollen. "Very cruel people." He came back around to face her again. "But you have to remember that they are keeping you basically unmarked and unharmed because they want a good sacrifice to their god Tezcatlipoca. Oh, did I forget to tell you? The decision has been made. You will be sacrificed to the Smoking Mirror. Strange name, isn't it? The ceremony is very impressive, you know. You will be naked, of course. And you will be tied extremely tightly. Your feet will be tied to your hands. What do you Americans call it ... Oh, a hogtie.
You will be hogtied. Then you will be picked up by two strong men and thrown into a pile of glowing embers from a big fire that has been allowed to burn down."
He paused to reach out and pat her breast. "You will struggle, I promise that. The coals will be very hot and you will be screaming your head off. Then, when they think that your skin has been cooked, they will pull you out. The rope holding your feet up to your hands will be cut and you'll be immediately laid out on an altar next to the fire pit. You'll be on your back, of course. And then ... Well, I'm sure you can guess. I've seen this done before. Several times. And the woman is usually still screaming when her heart is cut out."
Susan tried to shut out his words, to ignore his visions, and to deny that this was going to happen to her in just a few days. "My arms hurt very much," she told him. Maybe she could change the subject.
"They should. This is a variation of one of their favorite tortures. They tie a girl as you are, but then they lift her completely off the ground. When her feet are about the level of your knees, they let children jump up and grab her tied legs. The idea is for the children to put enough weight on her body to dislocate the shoulders. That is quite painful, you know. When both her shoulders have been pulled from their sockets, then they let her hang for the rest of the day, enjoying her cries of pain." "You're a sadist," she accused.
"I might be ... A little. But these people invented that, plus many, many other ways to torturing both men and women. You should see what they do when they want to torture a man. It involves making him being very helpless and their letting the females at him." "Please. I'm hurting very much. When can I get down?" With a shrug of his shoulders, Wolfgang casually walked away, leaving Susan to continue suffering both from the contorted position, and the uncertainty of how long she would have to stand there. They untied her later that afternoon, and she cried out loudly when her arms came suddenly down, falling to the ground to lay there crying. Without any concern for her comfort, she was rolled onto her stomach, then a pole was placed along her body. Using more ropes, they lashed her to the pole from her neck to her ankles, pinning her arms between her body and the pole. Then they picked up the pole and carried her away, face down and hanging a couple inches beneath the pole like some sack of merchandise or the body of a wild animal-.
Their destination was a room in one of the temples, Susan didn't bother to try and see which one she was being taken to. She did see that they went up some steps, then down some in almost total darkness. The room she found herself in was lit by two oil lamps set in niches in the wall. There were three sets of post set into the bare earth. Each had a Y shaped branch at the top about five feet off the floor. She was carried over and her pole set between two of the posts, resting in that Y on the top. Then she was left alone.
Her shoulders still hurt and her hands were only slowly awakening from their ordeal. But otherwise it was a pretty comfortable way to be tied and not much of a torment. She hung in the ropes but there were many of them and they were spaced out over the length of her body, so none of them cut in too much. The hardest part was keeping her head up so she didn't put too much pressure on her neck.
She hang there for what seemed like hours and hours. Then she heard footsteps coming. Turning her head sideways, she could see two warriors carrying in another pole to which another naked woman had been attached. This one had her arms behind the pole, and was tied much tighter to it, but otherwise hanging face down as Susan was. The pole was placed between the two posts next to Susan, and the warriors left.
This new captive. Susan immediately noted, bore not the brown skin of an Indian, but was a white woman. Her head was covered with a sack that was pulled tight around the throat with a drawstring, but Susan could see that her body was quite good, the breasts large, and apparently the woman was only in her twenties. Somehow that-naked figure looked familiar, but Susan was not at all sure why.
"This woman was found wandering around just outside our valley," Wolfgang said. Susan hadn't known he was standing there. "She was captured by a scouting party. When they brought her to me, I had an interesting conversation with her." He went over and untied the drawstring, but didn't take off the hood. "She told me she was looking for a woman and a man. The description fitted you and that man you came in with." He dramatically whisked the hood off.
"Gina!" exclaimed Susan.
And, indeed, it was the very same Gina that she and Luke had left naked and tied up on the private train car. She was gagged, but her long dark hair came falling down. Her large, black eyes blinked at the light, but when they saw Susan, they grew larger. She tried to speak.
Wolfgang swatted her bare flank with an open hand. Gina squealed, so it must have stung. "Not now. You two can talk later." He turned to Susan. "So you do know this woman?" .
"Yes. We met her on a train."
"And she came looking for you? She would not tell me why." He shrugged. "But it does not make much difference. You both will be sacrificed on the same day. You can fill her in." He took the gag from Gina's mouth.
Then Wolfgang was gone. The small oil lamps flickered but continued to illuminate the bare stone walls of that small room.
Gina looked puzzled. "What did he mean, sacrificed? Huh?"
Susan explained, taking her time to fill Gina in on everything that had happened. Including the fate that had been decreed for Susan. And how it was probable that Gina would have the same to look forward to in a few days.
"But what are you doing here?" Susan asked. "You should have been released by the police and been free to go your way."
"I was, I was. They believed me when I said that I was kidnapped and held hostage. Just like you. And they let me go."
"Then why did you come looking for us?"
"You've got to help get Billy free."
It was Susan's turn to look puzzled. "Huh?"
"Billy came back for me!" She sounded proud. "But the police were there. There was a gunfight. Billy was wounded. They arrested him. Oh, Susan, they're going to put him on trial for all kinds of crimes. And the United States wants him back to stand trail up there. There was talk of hanging him!"
All Susan could think was that she was glad Luke hadn't been caught that way. It was better to drown quickly then to wait for months or years only to dangle at the end of a rope.
"I came looking for you and Mr. Luke. He was Billy's friend. He's the only one who would try to break him out of the jail. Oh! But now you tell me he's dead! This is terrible."
"You can say that again!" Susan added.
"I am not going to stay there," Gina declared. Then she began twisting and jerking, trying to free herself .from the ropes holding her body to that pole. But her wrists were crossed and tightly tied behind it, and there were even more ropes holding her body tightly to the length of wood than there were on Susan. Gina accomplished nothing but working up a sweat in the damp, still air of that pyramid.
Susan tried, too, but also failed. Her elbows were still corded together, and that helped keep her from working anything loose. After a while both of them were hanging limp under their poles.
"Oh, Susan, what are we going to do?" Gina lamented. "I don't want to die. And especially not by being tossed into a fire and roasted."
"You won't actually die from the roasting," Susan pointed out. "You'll actually die when they cut you open and rip your heart out."
"Lord have mercy! How can you talk so calmly about this terrible thing? I want to scream."
"I'm not calm about it. But I don't think screaming will help."
It was dark when they were taken out of the small room. They were untied from the poles, then fed a simple meal. Both had their hands tied behind them. But Susan was taken back to her small cell, while Gina was marched away in the direction of Wolfgang's home. Susan called out for her to watch her ass, but Gina's didn't seem to understand.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Two Girls Suffering
"Oh, my gawd! It was terrible." Gina seemed still upset about the treatment inflicted upon her while in Wolfgang's private bedroom. "He tied me over a rail, then screwed me in the butt!" "I know," said Susan.
The two of them were sharing the same torment the next morning but were not gagged, so they could talk to each other. Once again, Susan found herself under that framework at the end of the marketplace. This time both she and Gina had been taken there and hogtied, quite tightly while they lay on the ground under one of the large crosspieces. The hogties were very tight, including elbows tight together and rope around the legs just above the knees, in addition to the traditional wrists and ankles. Susan wondered why they had been taken to that framework just to be hogtied on the ground, but her puzzlement was soon answered. A rope was tied around their wrists and ankles and thrown up and over the beam. Then, with two strong men on each line, both girls were hauled up until they were hanging painfully in a hogtie with their bodies bowed in a most stressful way. The ropes were tied off and they were left hanging with their stomachs a good three feet off the ground.
"This hurts," exclaimed Gina as soon as their guards left. "And I don't think escape is possible," she added, weakly.
"You got that part right," Susan told her. "Our own weight is keeping all these ropes very tight on our wrists and ankles. There's no way we can wiggle out of this."
"It feels as if my back is breaking. My hands are numb already, and my shoulders hurt." Gina continued in the same vein for a while until the pain became enough to distract her from complaining. Susan looked over to her fellow prisoner and noted that because Gina was a little heavier, the ropes did seem to be causing her more distress. They were digging into her limbs more than on Susan because those limbs were a little more padded. And the Italian girl didn't seem as flexible or limber, making the arch she was forced into more stressful. And her hands did look a darker color than the rest of her.
"Susan," Gina said after a long pause. "How long will they leave us hang here?"
"Maybe all day. The idea is that our pain is pleasing to their gods. Just be glad that the kids haven't come."
"Kids?"
"Kids."
"I don't want to be seen naked by a bunch of kids. That just isn't right."
"Nothing here is right. Or fair." Then she reminded Gina about how they was going to be sacrificed in a few days. And how it was to be done, according to Wolfgang.
"Oh, my gawd! That's right. They can't do that, it's too terrible!" Gina complained. "They can't do that."
"They will. Did you hear a scream this morning?"
"Well, I think I did. Woke me up."
"That was this morning's sacrifice. They believe that they must appease the gods every morning or the world will be destroyed by earthquakes. They prefer to use beautiful young virgins, but when they don't have them, a male or non-virgin will work."
"And to think, I came wandering down here, looking for you." Gina shook her head.
Both of them had found that it was less of a strain if you just hang limp and didn't struggle. For a good part of the morning, that is what they did: hung and suffered. The pain wasn't excruciating, but at times tears fell to the bare earth under the naked, hanging women.
The kids came by at mid-morning, armed with their usual switches cut from trees and very wicked in the amount of sting they could inflict, even when driven by youthful arms. Susan tried not to cry out as the switches cut at her flanks, sides and legs. But she could not hold back when they found the tender and sensitive flesh of her breasts.
Gina howled each time she was stuck, which was a blessing for Susan. The youthful warriors and maidens enjoyed a target which reacted much louder and jerked around more violently. So they concentrated their attention upon the dark -haired girl, delighting in marking her skin with red lines.
It seemed that fresh children were always available to replace those who's arms had tried or who grown jaded of whipping the white women. The cuts came randomly and not very fast, so the torment stretched out and out and out.
There were a few gaps where no one was paying them any attention, but usually there was at least one or two children enjoying the suffering of an adult at their hands.
Shortly after the sun had passed zenith, Susan felt herself swaying slowly back and forth. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Gina was also swaying gently, although the only two children present had not been whipping her. The wooden framework around them groaned softly, then settled down. The swaying of their bodies calmed down, too. The children, if they noticed the earthquake, did not react to it. In answer to Gina's question, Susan admitted that she had felt a few minor shaking now and then, but Mexico was famous for such movement of the ground. It was just more noticeable when you're hanging at the end of a rope.
During one of the lulls, Wolfgang visited the hanging women. "The council has decided that both of you shall be sacrificed at the same ceremony. They are worried about the increase in earthquakes lately, and the smoke that is always on the horizon. They are aware of what volcanoes are and fear them. So a special sacrifice will be made of the two finest captives available." He smiled at them, "A blonde and a raven -haired beauty. They don't understand how you can have black hair like them, but not the brown skin. But they do think that the gods will be pleased."
"Mr. Wolfgang," Gina began, obvious fear filling her eyes, "isn't there any way we can avoid this? I mean, can't they use us from something else ... ?"
It was obvious she was trying to trade her good body for an extended life.
"No, my dear, no way. The priests are set, and I will not buck them on this matter." "Then how...." Gina said weakly.
"How will you be sacrificed?" finished Wolfgang for her. "Well, exactly the same as Susan here. You will be tightly bound into a ball and then tossed into a bed of live coals. When they think that you're nearly cooked, they'll pull you out and cut your heart out with an obsidian knife. The knife if very sharp, but it sometimes gets a little mess, what with the blood all around and such."
From his grin, Susan knew that he was taking a delight in tormenting them with visions of their coming deaths. Gina looked as if she were about to be sick. But then Susan had more time to accustom herself to the idea of such a horrible death.
"There will be some other sacrifices at the same ceremony," he went on. "Actually, the one-a-day rate they do now is a big come down from what they used to do at the height of the Aztec empire. They would often sacrifice three or four captives at a time, and often at a dozen different temples each morning. From what they say, I figure many thousands were killed each year. And for how long that has been going on, not even they know.
"And you know what? They point to the fact that they are still here as proof that their sacrifices keep the world going." He laughed at that. "Don't you find it a little humorous?" he asked. But neither woman felt like answering. The whole subject was not very humorous to them.
Wolfgang walked away, muttering, "Killjoys" under his breath. But he had gotten in a little needling so he could watch the delightful looks of pure fear upon their faces as he described the rather unpleasant fates awaiting them. And that dark -haired one was delightful the way she wiggled her large ass as he impaled her the night before. And the howl! You'd think she had never been taken in the rear before!
"Susan," Gina asked later, during another lull, "is there any chance of our dying during these, what did he call them, 'punishments?'"
"No, they're too careful. They've had centuries of practice to get torture down to an art."
That shut down the conversation for a while longer.
When they were let down, neither girl could move her limbs, and Gina's hands stayed a dark color for a long time. Later that night feeling came back to them, but for a while both girls weren't certain she would be able to move them again. Not that it mattered much, what with the big ceremony and sacrifices coming up in only a couple days.
That night, while she slept in her cell, Susan was awaken by her wooden bench shaking. A little dust drifted down from the stone ceiling, and for a moment or two she wondered if this earthquake might be strong enough to bring down the stone building around her. But it was really only a little shaker, and left the walls intact. She shifted her position to get her bound hands in a little more comfortable position, then went back to sleep.
The next morning, the tortures resumed as normal.
After breakfast, they were both marched through the chill dawn air to the pit where Susan had been hung upside down and subjected to cockroaches crawling all over her naked body. As Gina was sat down and the rope attached to her ankles, Susan whispered what to expect so that it would not be such a terrible surprise. Gina didn't look very happy.
They let Susan stand by, hands bound behind her and a rope around her neck as a leash, while Gina was hoisted jjp and then lowered into the pit. This time she was on the outside when the wooden framework was placed over the opening and covered with large palm leaves. As she was being led away, she could hear Gina calling out for help, and begging them to pull her up. Even with warning, it was a most unpleasant experience for a naked woman.
Susan's "punishment" for the day seemed rather simple, almost too simple to really be a torture. But she was to find out just how unpleasant it could become as the day wore on.
There was a wooden plank turned on edge and held in place by posts sunk until the ground, two on either side. She was made to sit upon the top edge of that plank, then her ankles were tied together and her legs pulled out in front of her. The ropes on her ankles were cinched down and then tied up to a stout tree limb over head. Then the ropes on her bound wrists were cinched down again and that rope tossed up over another limb. When her arms were pulled up behind her, she had to lean forward. But this time her hands were lifted nowhere as high as they had been only a day or two before when she had been forced to stand with her shoulders almost wretched out of their sockets. This time her hands were only about the level of her head.
And that was all. The wooden plank was only half an inch wide, but that was really the only discomfort. Her legs being suspended before her so that they were horizontal was not uncomfortable, and her arms were pulled higher than she would have liked but still only a bit of discomfort, nothing near the pain she had suffered the prior day when she had hung in the suspended hogtie for most of the day.
They left her alone, so she immediately began exploring the bondage, searching for weaknesses she could exploit. Her ankles were not only tied tightly, but the weight of her legs made it impossible to work the ropes loose. It was much the same story when she tried to wiggle her wrists out of the ropes holding them in the crossed position. Finally, she gave up and settled down to what looked like it would be a boring day.
She was not near the marketplace, and only a few priests and warriors came to visit her. They looked at her and smiled as if knowing something she did not. A few poked her naked body, and made comments she could not understand. Perhaps they were talking about how she would burn during the ceremony. Perhaps they only liked to poke large while female breasts when the woman could do nothing to prevent them.
Susan sighed and endured. What was worst was the fact that her wooden plank was located only a few dozen feet from the pit wherein Gina was hanging by her ankles, alone in the dark save for a few thousand cockroaches. The screams diminished with time, but Susan knew exactly when the' first cockroach had crawled upon Gina's skin by the scream that was loud even where she was.
Wolfgang came by in the first hour to look at her. "Have you come to gloat some more? And describe to me how much pain I will be in when they toss me in the fire?"
"Not fire, just glowing red coals," he corrected. "But, no, you understand about that already." He pursed his lips, "Of course, I didn't really describe how much the women scream as their skin blisters and turns black. Some began screaming loudly when they see the fire pit. The heat can be felt from twenty feet away. And when their hair catches fire...."
Susan made a face, showing how much she detested his enjoyment of her fear.
"And then there is the few who beg to be killed," he continued. "They scream to be pulled out and have their hearts cut out. You should hear it! Of course, you would not understand what they were saying, not speaking the language, but you might get the general drift of it. They know that eventually that is what will happen, but when the pain becomes intense, they want that end to come fast. I'm sure you can understand.", Susan did -unfortunately. The scene had been playing out in her mind for a long time, and she could easily imagine herself screaming for the mercy of a stone knife being plunged into her chest.
"You certainly fit right in with this sadistic bunch," she told him. "You're as cruel as they are."
"Thank you. I try to be." He was grinning like a schoolboy who had gotten away with something. "But I'm just telling you the truth."
"Go away."
"I would think that you would like to have someone to talk to," he told her. "That was one of the most unpleasant parts of my first year here, not having anyone with whom I could really talk. So I concentrated on learning their language. And their ways. You would not believe my surprise the first morning I was here and saw them cut the heart out of a girl's chest. But, it was also exciting. You don't get to see things like that in London."
"There's a reason," said Susan, icily.
"My dear, who's to say that perhaps these people are not right? Maybe if the ceased to sacrifice at least one captive every morning, the world would end! Think about that."
"You're crazy."
He walked away, laughing at her.
It wasn't until she was into the second hour that Susan began to realize how insidious that torture was. She found herself trying to shift her position on the wooden plank. At first she could move her bottom a little forward or backward. But there were limits. She dare not go too far forward lest she fell off the front of the plank. With her arms tied behind her back, her whole weight falling off the plank would surely wrench her shoulders from their sockets.
And she dare not move too far backwards. For one thing, her arms being pulled up prevented her from going very far in that direction, and she was also afraid that if she got too far, she would fall off that side of the plank, with equally as unpleasant results.
So she had to limit herself to moving only a couple inches either way. And she was finding out that it could become most uncomfortable to have to sit on a slender edge of hard wood. Her bottom was becoming very uncomfortable.
She never reached the stage of screaming, but there were a few times when she felt like it. She did moan and whine and wiggle around. But no matter how she moved, her bottom hurt.
When they finally came for her, Susan had experienced many hours of utter helplessness to go along with the pain in her butt. When the ropes were finally taken off, there were tear stains down both cheeks, and her bottom was very red, almost as if it had been spanked or whipped.
She was given a meal, dosed with water to clean off the sweat and dust, and then taken to Wolfgang's bedroom.
Gina was already there. Susan, having only her wrists still bound crossed behind her, was relatively mobile, and she walked over to where Gina was bound to the post. The dark-haired girl had been placed back first against the pole, her arms pulled behind it and tied, including trying to make the elbows come together, which they could not quite do. Her legs were already bound together, but where then lashed to the pole, as was her torso, including her neck. The unusual part was that she had been placed against the pole upside down, so that her head was a foot off the floor and her ankles at the level of Susan's face.
Susan glanced to the guard at the door, but he said nothing, so she approached her friend. Gina's long, dark hair was laying on the floor, and her eyes were staring straight ahead, even when Susan knelt down in front of her.
"Gina. Gina. Talk to me," Susan said, but was rewarded with no response.
"Apparently she has this thing about bugs," said Wolfgang's voice from the doorway. "She's been like that every since they pulled her out of the pit." He laughed a little. "You should have seen it, there were hundreds of cockroaches crawling all over her! She hasn't spoken a word or reacted since."
"Why did you have her tied upside down?" Susan asked.
"Thought it might get a reaction out of her," he replied, offhand. "I thought that you might enjoy my attempts to provoke her into saying something. I don't really think she's insane."
Susan turned suddenly on Wolfgang. "Why not! What you did to her is enough to drive a woman out of her mind! I know, it happened to me."
"But you're not insane," he pointed out reasonably.
"She was just more afraid of them than I am. Anyway, it is obvious that you went too far this time. She may never be the same again."
Wolfgang shrugged his shoulders. "No big deal. I'll promise that when she is tossed into the fire pit, she'll scream. That is enough pain to wake anyone up. Now, would you please come over here."
Susan obeyed but her eyes were on Gina, who did not appear to be aware of anything going on around her. Wolfgang had her kneel and back up to the rail he had previously tied her bent over. This time he lifted her arms and lowered them on the other side of the rail. Then he tied her ankles together. Next he untied her wrists but retied them with the palms facing each other. It was no surprise to her when he then looped cord around her elbows and pulled them together. The final bit of restraint was to tie a rope between her ankles and wrists, and pull that as tightly as he could.
The rail was uncomfortable under her arms and the ropes were tight, but it was not too bad. Not by the standards of this strange world, at least. It did have the effect, of course, of holding her in place facing the inverted Gina. Whatever he was planning to do to the helpless woman, Susan would have to watch.
The technique was simple. Wolfgang believed that if you applied enough pain to the female body, she would eventually react. It would drive through whatever mental block she had erected, and force her to do something. Pain is very elemental, after all. From the moment of our birth, pain is a part of our lives.
He began with a length of leather about half an inch wide and fairly supple. It slapped against the female flesh with a loud sound but was wide enough not to cut the flesh or leave much of a bruise. But Susan was sure that it stung, probably quite a bit.
He began with the whipping with her thighs. As the leather impacted against the flesh of her legs, Susan could see the skin indent under the blow, then bounce back out immediately. A moment later, it would turn red. He methodically reddened her thighs, including the sides. The backs were spared because of the way she was tied to the pole.
Then he began to lash her breasts. Susan cringed as the leather bit at those soft globes. But she could see no reaction from Gina. The eyes continued their vacant stare at nothing.
When her breasts had been reddened and bounced around viciously, Wolfgang laid down the leather strap and picked up a small whip. This one had a single tong at the end and looked very wicked. The first slash across her thigh not only left a red line, but it also raised a thin welt of swollen flesh that began to turn colors.
Still Gina showed no sign of being aware of the damaging of her flesh.
"Wolfgang, please. Maybe you're wrong," pleaded Susan. "Maybe all you'll do is cut her flesh to ribbons."
"She's got to respond," he said evenly. "She has got to feel this. I've seen other woman scream loudly when this whip was applied to their asses."
He cut two more strokes across her thighs. Still no response.
Then he cut twice across her hips, leaving ridges of swollen flesh that entered and exited the dark, curly patch of hair.
"Please don't," begged Susan. "All you'll do is cut up her body. And a battered body won't please your gods, will it?"
Wolfgang suddenly turned on Susan. The whip in his hand lashed out to leave a line across her left breast. And to pull from her a loud scream. The pain was like a burning iron thrust into her flesh.
"They are not my gods," he hissed through clenched teeth. Then he turned back to the inverted woman as if nothing had happened at all.
Susan resolved to keep her mouth shut. Both she and Gina were totally helpless and in control of this man. He would do what he wished, including eventually killing them. And apparently he was crazy.
From Susan's angle, she could see Gina's hands where they were tied behind the pole. As Wolfgang positioned himself to begin lashing at the poor girl's breasts, Susan noticed that her fingers were moving. Not in any attempt to do something, but random twitches. Still, it was the first sign of life she had seen from the girl except for the rise and fall of her breasts to tell that she was breathing.
The whip cut viciously across the breasts, catching the nipples with the thong. Suddenly Gina screamed, full throated and loudly. Then it died away to be replaced by sobs. She blinked and looked around, seeming confused that the world was upside down. Her face was twisted with the pain and a very wicked welt was raising on both breasts.
"Told you pain would do the trick," said Wolfgang with a self-satisfied smile. "Works every time."
Susan wanted to call out to Gina, but perhaps that might anger this man. And he could cause them both incredible amounts of pain, as Gina had just found out. So Susan forced her lips together and waited to see what would happen next.
It was almost anti-climactic. He tied that ring gag into Susan's mouth and then fucked her there. She endured the indignity, and swallowed his sperm when it pumped into her throat. And she kept herself from gagging when he shoved his rod almost down that throat only with a great deal of will power.
Then Wolfgang was satisfied. He left the two naked woman bound exactly as they were. It was a long, hard night, and Susan felt very sorry for poor Gina. She was getting used to being tied up all night, sometimes in uncomfortable positions, but this poor girl was hanging upside down on that pole.
For a while Gina cried softly, then there was silence from the other side of the room. Wolfgang had blown out the oil lamp and only star light through the small window illuminated the scene of suffering.
In the morning, Gina was let down and for a long time lay on the floor, unable to control her limbs. But eventually the youthful body responded and she was able to lift herself to a sitting position, then, upon command, to stand up on shaky legs. Immediately her arms were bound behind her and she was hauled off for the day's torture.
Just before she was also led out, Susan turned to Wolfgang, who had been giving orders to the guards, and told him, "You shouldn't torture Gina today. She had to hang upside down all night. Isn't that enough?"
Wolfgang smiled. "Never is enough. But you shouldn't worry too much. Soon all your troubles will be over." His smile turned into pure evil. Susan shivered, and it wasn't from the cool morning air.
The guard put a rope around her neck and led her from the bedroom, destined for some unknown, but sure to be very unpleasant, fate for that day.
On the way, the ground trembled a bit, then swayed back and forth for a few seconds. The guards looked nervous, and Susan didn't like the way they were casting glances back at her. She could just read their thoughts concerning her upcoming painful death and the threat of destruction via earthquakes. Had it been their choice, they would be lighting the fire pit and binding her for an immediate sacrifice. But, if nothing else, the warrior class were well trained. They would obey orders, no matter what. With a tug on the rope, Susan was urged on.
"This is the sacrificial pool," Wolfgang told her when he came up. The guards had stopped her in the clearing around part of the pool and waited for the white man they had accepted into the tribe. "That's where your friend is. Down, in that dark water. Oh, I can see by your eyes that he was something more than a friend. A lover, perhaps? No matter, he's gone and you'll soon be gone, too. But would you like cheat these heathens? Maybe get a relatively quick, painless death? How about joining your friend in the pool? Heh?" d over and looked into the depths. But he didn't invite her. Instead he ordered her brought back up the path a ways to where a stone wheel was sitting. It was crudely carved, like a forty pound donut. But it couldn't be a wheel, she had seen no signs of carts or any kind of wheel used by these people.
Giving a few more orders, Wolfgang stood by and told Susan what was to happen, "They will tie that rope from your neck to the wheel. It's pretty heavy, but you may be able to pull it. Not using your hands, of course." He pointed back down the trail. "If you can drag it to the pool, and. over the edge, then you can join your friend. Drowning will be faster and less painful than what's planned for you."
"Won't the priests be unhappy?" asked Susan, not because she didn't want this chance at a cleaner end, but because she feared that he would be overridden and her chance taken away.
"I will tell them that if you make it to the pool, then the gods wanted a sacrifice in the pool, not in the firepit. These people are great ones for omens. But I don't think you'll make it. You'll see why."
The rope from her neck was tied solidly around the stone weight. Then they untied her wrists, but only to retie them immediately by bringing them up behind her and crossing the wrists up between her shoulder blades. Then they tied them, including ropes over her shoulders and around her chest to keep her hands high up on her back. Then they left her.
Susan looked around but she was really alone. These people, she told herself, must have a lot of faith in their ability to tie a girl. Then she began to test the ropes holding her prisoner. It wasn't long before she was convinced that their confidence in their skill was justified. Her fingers could reach nothing of the knots or rope binding her arms, and she found that the knots on the wheel were tied beyond the capability of her toes to untie. Which left her still a captive. But one with a way out of captivity -if she wanted to take it.
It wasn't much of a mental debate. Being tossed into the fire pit while tightly bound sounded far worse than a plunge into those dark waters. Experimentally, she braced her feet and pulled backwards. Immediately she saw the problem. It wasn't that the stone wheel was incredibly heavy. It wasn't that she didn't have enough strength to drag it along the ground. It was because when she pulled the noose around her neck tightened down and choked her. Almost immediately her air had been cut off. When she straightened up, the rope slowly loosened.
Susan could pull the stone along, but it would mean that she would be strangling herself all the way. She could only move it a few inches at a time before she had to ease the pressure and suck in needed air.
She cursed Wolfgang. Someplace he must be laughing at the thought of how hard she would have to work to be able to kill herself. What a bastard! For awhile she stood there, thinking. Then she sighed and braced herself again for a tug. He might be a bastard, but he had given her a chance to cheat them all of the barbecue they expected.
It was not easy to move the stone, and it had a terrible tendency to catch on tree roots and plants. The naked woman pulled until she literally turned purple in the face, then had to fall to her knees, gasping for air.
The morning moved as slowly as the stone. The path was level ground, so she didn't have to pull uphill, but it was uneven and filled with numerous places eager to reach out and catch a stone. Each time the rope closed around her throat, it felt like an iron band trying to crushing her slender neck. And there were times when the rope seemed as if it would not loosen.
At one point, she wanted to laugh out loud in the green jungle, so incongruous was it that she should have to work so very hard to be able to throw herself into a pool and drown.
Most of the morning was gone and she was about half way towards the sacrificial pool. A few times she thought she heard someone coming, but each time she looked there was no one there. Maybe Wolfgang had sent spies to report her progress for his amusement. Or maybe it was he, himself, who was spying on her.
Then, while sitting on the ground, resting, Susan got her idea. It was simple and she cursed herself for not having thought of it. There was enough slack in the rope for her to stand and pulled a stone along the ground, which meant there was also enough slack for her to sit on the ground behind the stone and brace her feet against it's edge. Then she pushed. It moved half a foot along the dirt. Smiling, she scooted up and put her feet against the stone again. Another foot! Telling herself that she would cheat that bastard, Susan began pushing instead of pulling and was making much faster progress.
She entered the clearing and could see the edge of the pool ahead. She began to wonder how deep it was and if the stone would pull her down far enough to assure a quick drowning. Then she wondered if she would see Luke down there. But she shook that thought off, and concentrated on images of her fate should she fail to reach that edge and the cool waters below.
Ten feet. Nine feet. Then six. Then, although there had been times when she thought it would never have happened, the stone was balanced on the edge of the shear drop, part of it already protruding over. One more good shove and it would drag her down into the water she could see twenty feet below.
She took a deep breath and braced her feet against the edge. Then she pushed, her though as she did was of Luke and the hope that she would join him in some better world than this unfair one.
The stone tilted, seemed to hang on for a second as if reluctant to fall, then disappeared. The rope snapped taunt and the noose closed around her neck.
Suddenly a male hand grabbed the rope, and a second hand came into her view, holding a knife. The rope was slit neatly and quickly. Just that suddenly the pressure was off, and she felt the rope loosening around her neck. There came a loud splash from below.
Susan looked up to find Wolfgang standing there, grinning from ear to ear. "You didn't think that I would really let you drown, did you? It would cheat the gods!"
She rolled over on to her side in the dirt and muttered, "You bastard."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Deflowering
Gina could hardly walk when she was brought back to Wolfgang's bedroom. Her hands were bound behind her back, and her body, while looking exhausted and dirty, was unmarked. At least by any fresh marks. There were still those vivid marks across her breasts applied by Wolfgang the night before.
Susan, who was tied to his rail, legs spread wide while she was bent over with her arms still bound high up on her back, and her neck rope connected to the floor, looked to Gina and asked, "What happened to you?"
Gina was taken to the pole and placed in a sitting position with her legs wrapped around it. As her ankles were being bound, she told Susan, "Don't ask. It was terrible."
Susan wasn't sure if that was an honest request for the subject to be dropped, or a ploy to which she was suppose to press the issue. She said nothing.
The guard left, and Susan watched as Gina tested the ropes on both her hands and feet. "One of these days, they're going to make a mistake and I'll be out of here like a flash. I'd rather take my chances in the jungle than stay here."
Susan thought of how little time they had left, but said nothing. She had once dreamed of the day when she would find a loose knot or a bit of slack in a rope, and make her escape. But time was running out, and she had not found that loose knot. Not ever.
It was after their meager evening meal, and only the last fading twilight enabled them to see each other.
"Say, I can bet what will happen to you," Gina said when she looked over in Susan's direction. "He's got your ass sticking up in the air. That guy screw you in the ass before?"
"Several times, as I told you," Susan replied wearily. She was tried from the ordeal of pulling and pushing that heavy stone around, then spending the afternoon hanging upside down by her ankles from that framework while children tweaked her nipples and whipped her ass with switches. No major damage, but she was very sore and her bottom still bore the redness of the afternoon's punishment.
"Well, at least I won't get it in the ass. Don't like that. And the way I'm tied, my ass is protected by this hard stone floor." She grinned and seemed actually happy that her rear was to be spared, and not speared.
Wolfgang came in after it was completely dark. He bore two torches which he put in holders on the walls. Then he lit an oil lamp. A few moments later two guards came in. At his orders they altered Gina's bondage, then left.
The alteration indicated that a calm evening sitting on the stone floor was not to be her fate. First, they had untied her ankles and removed her from the pole. Then they untied her wrists from behind her back. They made her sit on the floor only a few feet from Susan, then they bend her legs up and pulled her hands around them so they could bind her wrists together in a crossed position, but with her legs between them so she was hugging them. Then they tied a rope around each ankle and took that up to two iron rings set in the wall up by the ceiling on opposite sides of the room. Then they pulled, she found her legs spreading as widely as possible, until stopped by her own arms. Then they continued to pull while Wolfgang lifted. When they tied off the ropes, Gina was suspended in mid-air by her ankles.
And it was not a comfortable position to be in. There was considerable stress trying to pull her arms apart. And that stress forced her knees as wide apart as they would go, which opened her sexual area. She found herself hanging in a tilted backwards, very uncomfortable position. But both her pussy and rear entrance were readily available in this position, and there was nothing she could do about it.
The guards left. Wolfgang inspected both of his captives and nodded his satisfaction with the security of the restraints. As Susan looked between her legs, she had a good view of Gina's private parts. She had to agree that the black -haired girl was certainly in a position to be used. She was even at the right height for a man to plunge into her without having to stand on a stool or bend his knees.
Wolfgang, oddly, seemed to be in no hurry to partake of the helpless beauties before him. The reason became apparent when another man walked in. He was the taller priest who had pronounced her sentence. He was older than Wolfgang, perhaps in his fifties. They exchanged talk for a while, Wolfgang waving his hand in obvious invitation to the two naked woman. The older man nodded and pointed to Susan. Wolfgang stood aside.
Divesting himself of his feather robe and loincloth, the man positioned himself behind Susan's upturned rear. For a while he fumbled with a small skin bag, but then was smearing some kind of grease into Susan's anus. A few seconds later she could feel his erection pressing against the opening.
His screwing of her rear proceeded slowly, and, while lacking the vigor of youth, he was surprisingly hard and long lasting. It seemed like a long time before he shot his load into her rear.
Meantime, Susan could see through her legs and his to where Gina was being treated in a similar manner by Wolfgang. His bare ass was visible as he pumped away. The hanging woman's body easily bounced back and forth as he held her hips to keep her impaled by his shaft. And this time, he was using the normal tunnel for such activities. Swinging her by her bound ankles, he repeatedly pounded his hips into her pelvis, ramming his rod deep into her.
Apparently this was more to her liking, for Susan could hear the other girl moaning with pleasure. Then her cries became louder and more lustful, until she was quite happily gasping and moaning.
With his easy control over how fast and hard he rammed their bodies together, Wolfgang was able to time their climaxes so they were more or less mutual, a rare act of kindness in that place of torture. He made loud grunting sounds while she gasped loudly and shook all over, that being the only movement allowed her. Her head did flip back and forth, making her black hair whip around in the air.
He left her hanging when he finished.
Susan, meantime, was not so lucky. The pounding of the male hips against her ass was not pleasing nor sexually exciting. It still felt oddly nice to have her rear filled by a male member, but she could not help but wonder what it would have been like to have it in the right place. It was beginning to look like she would stay a virgin until the moment of her death.
Eventually the man was finished, leaving Susan feeling dirty and used, not sexually excited at all. The two men talked some more, apparently made some jokes in that harsh language, then the older one was donning his cape and leaving.
Wolfgang came back over, and patted her bottom. "That was the head priest, a very high honcho around here. In fact, he's about the top dog since the one who is king is really a puppet of his. The priests rule this culture, you know."
"I didn't."
He laughed. "Guess you haven't been in a position to observed very much of their culture. Except their cruelty, of course. That always makes an impression on the captives."
"Are you going to leave Gina hanging like that all night?" Susan asked.
Wolfgang turned to look at the suspended woman. She was swaying back and forth, her eyes closed, and seemingly contented. For the moment, at least.
"I might. Would make it easier in the morning to screw her." He turned back to view Susan's elevated posterior. "In fact, I'm feeling rather horny tonight. Maybe I'll knock off another piece of ass before I go to bed. This time, perhaps you'd like it in the bigger tunnel?"
Susan swallowed hard. Did she? Being put to the question like that, she honestly wasn't sure. It might be nice to experience it before she died. But she hated this man and didn't want him sticking anything of his into any part of her. So she evaded his question by saying, "I don't seem to have a choice, not really. I'm rather tied up at the moment."
"Very true. And I like it that way."
He came over and began to play with her sex. With surprising gentleness he stroked her clit and massaged her. Instantly she felt a heat begin between her legs. She didn't want it, but her body betrayed her. While one part of her screamed silently that she didn't want to loose her virginity to this man, another part urged her to do anything she could to encourage his attentions.
But the decision, as she had pointed out, was not in Susan's hands. His finger, while probing her love tunnel, met with resistance. Getting down on his kneels, Wolfgang spread her labia and looked inside. He also gently pushed a finger in again.
"Well, I'll be damned! A virgin!" he exclaimed as he stood up. "I haven't had one of these for years. This will be fun! Do yell loudly when you feel it tear open."
Susan felt disappointed that the decision really wasn't hers. Once he found that she was a virgin, he was eager to deflower her at once. But the flesh was. A little less willing, for it stood at only half mast no matter how he urged it to a better performance.
"Well, a little later will be fine. Give me more time to anticipate the pleasure. And the same for you."
Humming to himself, he began to get the bed ready for the night. Suddenly he halted. "Where is it?" he demanded. Then he came rushing around in front of the two bound girls. "Did you...." But he broke off his accusation. "No, it couldn't have been either of you two."
"What's the matter, won't your prick stand up?" Susan taunted him.
"You just shut up. He'll stand up when the time is right. But right now I want to know who took that gun."
As Wolfgang stormed out, Susan was figuring out that he meant the gun and holster that he had taken away from Luke. So someone stole Luke's gun. Probably one of the Indians. At least she knew it wasn't her or Gina, so what difference did it make?
A while later Wolfgang came back in, still angry and without anything in his hands. "Damned, thieving brownskins," he muttered. 'They'll steal anything."
For a while he paced the room as his anger cooled. Finally, he turned his attention once again to the two naked woman who had no choice but to wait patiently by. "I believe Junior is ready now," he told Susan. "Are you?" Then he laughed. "Silly question! It doesn't matter if you're ready or not. Ready or not, here I come." And he positioned himself behind Susan, then removed the loincloth. She could see between her legs that he was, indeed, ready to deflower her. She sighed. But not too loud.
She felt his hand upon her hips. Then the other fingers spreading apart her labia. A moment later there came the touch of the blunt ended rod of hard flesh against the opening to her sex. Susan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There is comes!
Why is he rocking me back and forth? she wondered. Then she realize that the rocking was not his doing, it was the whole building. The stones creaked and groaned as the earth swayed back and forth slowly. With a cry, Wolfgang rushed out of the room.
"Where's he going?" asked Gina, who had been following the action of Susan's imminent deflowerment with interest.
"I think he wants to be outside where these big blocks of stone won't fall on him," Susan told her. "Of course, we're just captives and if any fall on us, it will probably be considered the will of the gods."
The room continued to sway for almost a full minute. Dust came floating down, but the stones remained in place. Outside they could hear cries and loud voices. Some of them sounded like they were praying -loud and fast.
Eventually the ground settled down. A while after that, Wolfgang came back in. He inspected the walls and ceiling carefully, but gave only a quick glance at the two naked, tied up women. Finally he came over to where he could talk to Susan.
"If I didn't know better," he said, "I'd say that was a sure sign from the gods that they didn't want you deflowered." He grinned at her. "But that would be silly, wouldn't it?"
"If you say so."
Wolfgang looked around. Susan thought that perhaps he was a little nervous, so she added, "It's their gods, right? You don't believe in them. But they do."
'Think you're pretty smart? Well, think about this, you'll be sacrificed the day after tomorrow, at sunrise."
He left them alone once again. Susan noticed that he hadn't resumed what was interrupted. Her virginity was yet intact, perhaps due to an act of the gods, if you believe they shake the earth.
But maybe that was not to last very long. After half an hour, Wolfgang again came into the room. This time he seemed more sure of himself, and a little happier. "Now I can get back to that little task I will enjoy," he said as he removed his loin cloth.
As he positioned himself behind Susan, and she again felt her labia spread wide and the poking of a blunt instrument at her entrance, she braced herself and wondered if it would hurt much.
Suddenly there came the sound of a man's voice calling from the outer chamber. Wolfgang looked disgusted but backed away and replaced the loin cloth. Then he left.
Again half an hour passed before he returned. "Those heathens! Those idiots!" he said angrily. "There's a new eruption from a volcano about twenty miles distant. Lots of bright red glow and smoke, but that's all. There's no way the lava could ever get this far. There's no danger. I tried to tell them that, but they're like scared little children."
He removed his loin cloth. "Got to hurry," he told Susan. "They'll be coming for you in a few minutes."
"What?" she said.
He paused in his preparations to ram her a good one. "They think that the gods are angry for some reason. The Council has decided that the sacrifice will be moved up to tomorrow morning. In view of the recent earthquakes and volcanoes and such." He sucked in air and calmed himself. "So we had better get this done. They'll be coming to prepare you for the sacrifice, which will include your being anointed by the priests and being kept tightly bound all night before they throw you into the fire pit." He paused to point to the window. "They're lighting the fire now."
Sure enough, there was the flickering glow of a large bonfire coming through the window. Susan gulped and was very much afraid.
Again the labia was parted, again the blunt instrument was placed at the entrance to paradise, and again both Wolfgang and Susan braced themselves for the plunge that would remove her from the ranks of the uninitiated.
"Stop that!"
"What the hell!" exclaimed Wolfgang.
"Back away or I'll blow your brains out," continued the voice from behind him.
Wolfgang slowly backed away from the naked behind and turned to see who was disturbing his fun and games.
Just then Susan gave out with a cry and almost fainted. Standing there, upside down to her view, was Luke!
And he had his six-shooter in his hand, the barrel pointed at Wolfgang.
"All I have to do is call out and a thousand warriors will come rushing in here," Wolfgang told him, regain his composure.
"Won't do you any good, you'll be dead. Now untie those girls."
Wolfgang didn't argue. Apparently he was well aware that you shouldn't argue with a Colt .44. He began untying the ropes holding Susan bent over the rail. In a few minutes she was free, sitting on the floor, rubbing her sore wrists and looking up at Luke in amazement.
"Now the other one." Luke said.
As Wolfgang was untying Gina from her suspension, Susan struggled to her feet and went to Luke. He was, she noted, wearing one of the Indian priestly robes, which, fortunately, covered most of the body so his pale skin would not show. On the floor beside him was a mask of feathers, apparently the means by which he had hidden his face from view.
He saw her looking at the mask and told her, "There are so many priests walking around this place, they didn't seem to notice an extra one. And the man who had this robe won't be telling anyone that it was stolen. He's dead."
Gina was laying on the floor, trying to get her legs moving properly.
Luke was thinking furiously. Then he told Susan and Gina to tie up the other white man so they could make their get away.
Just then another earthquake hit, this one strong than the others. The walls swayed and threatened to fall around them. The floor under their feet became unsteady. With all of them unsteady on their feet, and Susan clinging to Luke's arm, Wolfgang made his move, leaping through the air towards Luke and his gun.
In that split second, with the world swaying around them, Luke could have shot the man. But he didn't. Instead he lifted then brought down the butt of the gun on the head that was flying towards him. Their bodies collided. But when Luke struggled to his feet, Wolfgang lay there, a trickle of blood flowing down the side of his head. But he was breathing.
"Quick," Luke shouted as the room calmed down. "Give me that rope. You and Gina get over here. That's it, now turn your backs to me and cross your hands."
"What are you doing?" cried Susan. "This isn't the time for that!"
Luke grinned but didn't ask her what "THAT" was. They both knew. He finished binding her wrists, and turned to Gina's. "I'm going to take you out of here and I want it to look like I'm a priest taking you for immediate sacrifice. That they'll expect, but free woman running off with a white man they thought they had killed is something else. There, tight enough?"
"Damned tight," said Gina.
"Has to look real," Luke pointed out as he was putting on the mask. A moment later he had ropes around their necks and was leading the two naked woman out of that building and across the area of temples. The ground was still shaking now and then, and people were running everywhere, most unsure where they were going. No one stopped them, but a few of the other priests did look their way. One paused to yell some meaningless words at Luke and point to where the red glow of the fire pit was visible over the green trees. Luke nodded and shot the fellow in the chest.
"Run," he told his captives.
They did. Fortune smiled down upon them in the form of the strongest earthquake yet, one that lifted clouds of dust from the temples and almost knocked them all down.
"Maybe the world does end with earthquakes," said Susan. But no one heard her over the cries of the panicked people and groaning earth.
They dashed across the square and disappeared into the jungle, taking the path they had first come into the city on. The earth calmed some, and when Luke looked back, he found everyone was busy trying to save their own hides, and not much interested in a few captives escaping.
A mile up the path, Gina fell to the ground, panting and unable to continue. Susan was pretty exhausted, also, having not eaten proper meals for a while. Luke could have continued, but he waited, watching back down the trail, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.
Susan came up to him, pressed her body against his and kissed him with passion and love. Even without hands, she managed to make her kiss convey her feelings.
Later, several more miles from the hidden city, they paused again. "I can untie you now," said Luke.
"Better not," said Susan. "Might be some of those Aztecs around still."
She grinned at him, and he grinned right back. Then he went over and took her naked form in his arms and kissed her with so much passion that she felt a heat between her legs.
"Well, I don't mind getting untied," said Gina from her seat on the grass.
When he broke from the kiss, Luke said, without taking his eyes off Susan, "Susan's right, better keep our disguise a while longer."
Gina sighed. "Well, at least I'm used to it," she muttered as the other two kissed again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Casa de Shackled Women
The lovely young Mexican girl brought in the tray containing three nail, cool drinks, and set them on the table in the verandah.
"Thank you, Ramona," said Susan, taking one of the glasses to sip at the rum flavored drink.
Ramona curtsied and then departed, accompanied by the musical tinkle of the sliver chain joining the slender silver bands locked about each ankle.
"I see Ramona is finally learning how to walk with short steps so she won't snub her ankles any more," Gina commented as she reached for her glass.
"We've given her plenty of practice," agreed Luke, "and we'll give her plenty more."
A cool breeze came through the trees off the beach to gently tease their bare skins as the three of them sat in the shade of the long, comfortable porch attached to the Spanish style, white washed house overlooking the blue Pacific.
"You're giving me plenty of practice, too," commented Gina, but without any heat. She lifted one leg to rattle the sliver chain joining her ankles.
Susan could have rattled hers, too, but contentedly sat back in the comfortable chair and sighed. "You complain about the ropes, too," she said. "Every night."
"And every night he ties them too tight," said Gina with mock-anger. "I'm so sore and stiff in the morning."
"Poor baby," offered Susan. "Think of what I have to go through. This big brute not only ties me up, he rapes me. Every night!"
Luke shook his head but did not join in on their little byplay. As the dominant male of this household, it was his responsibility to maintain authority and not get involved with petty squabbles between his two women.
For a while none of them talked. The heat of the day was fading finally as the sun sank towards the brilliant blue ocean out there, and all of them were feeling pretty mellow. Earlier, they had gone down to the beach to take a swim in the warm water, with Luke unlocking the girl's ankles only when they reached the sand. He made jokes about teaching Susan how to swim with shackles on, and the lovely blonde had to wonder if her man was serious. Probably. He had taken to keeping her tied or chained almost all the time since they escaped from that valley.
As Susan lay back on her lounge, she reflected back to that time, finding it hard to believe that it was only three months before.
They made it out of the valley of that hidden Mayan/Aztec city, followed by earth tremors by the swarm. Apparently the Aztecs were so busy with whatever it is people do when they're panicking, that they never tried to follow the three of them. A few frightened Indians overtook them on the trail, but those people were too busy trying to get out of the valley to bother with them.
Eventually they reached a point where they felt safe from pursuit. Even the tremors decreased. In the distance, they could see the smoke of the new volcano, and wondered what the Aztecs would think of the layer of gray ash now falling over their city.
It was then that Luke finally untied their hands. For days they wandered through the jungle, trying to find some trace of civilization. Finally they came to a trail that led them up and over a low range of hills. Then, below them, was a typical Mexican rural town. The girls, who had only loin clothes and crude tops made from his priestly robe, stayed while Luke went down to arrange for horses, clothes, and, most importantly, food. They had been living off the land and none were getting fat.
From there it was easy to make their way back to the main roads. But they did not head north. They turned south and west, heading for some town someplace on the Pacific coast where they were far enough from the U.S. law to not worry about it.
Susan remembered how Luke had explained his apparent return from the dead. The water in that pool, he explained, is cold, but under the surface you can see a fair distance. The darkness comes mostly of a layer of algae growing on the surface. When he went under, he was near the edge, and the sun was at the right angle to illuminate a cave in the wall. He swam into that and found the cave opened into a dry portion with lots of fresh air. Apparently there was some connection with above so that air could flow downward. Using the cave to hide in, he explored around and found a sharp out jutting of rock to saw the ropes off his hands. He also found that near the entrance to the cave there were skeletons, hundreds of them, laying on the bottom of the pool. He also found that most of the newer ones had their limbs bound with ropes, some of which he removed and hid in his cave. That night, he tied the ropes together, made a lasso, and threw it up to catch on a stump at the edge of the pool. Then he climbed out and disappeared into the jungle, taking his rope with him.
The Aztecs never knew that their latest sacrifice had displeased the gods by refusing to die.
Luke hung around the hidden city, trying to find out what happened to Susan. Eventually he was able to take the robe of a priest who made the mistake of wandering down a jungle path alone. Then he bravely made forays into the city, keeping his eyes open and looking for a chance to rescue Susan.
He found where she was being kept at night, but it was too well guarded to try a rescue, even for a man wearing a priest's robe. Somehow they would expect that he would be able to speak their language. So he hung around, eating fruits from the jungle and what he could steal, waiting for a change. He also found where Susan was usually taken at night, and hung around outside Wolfgang's house. Eventually, by peeking in windows and such, he found where Wolfgang had hidden his six-shooter.
Luke still didn't have much of a plan, save to steal back his gun and force Wolfgang to let them go. Which would have been quite a task in a valley filled with blood thirsty Aztecs.
Then he overheard that the sacrifice of both his love and Gina was moved up to the next day, and he had to act.
The rest Susan already knew about. She was angry when it came out that Luke was hiding outside Wolfgang's window while she was inside being screwed in a virgin rear. But after a little thought, she understood that there was nothing he could do. At that point he did not have his six-shooter back.
What Susan also didn't not know was that Luke, in his prowling around, found where the priests kept a bag filled with jewels, all cut and polished, and many of them diamonds. On that last fateful night, when the ground was shaking, he snuck in and lifted that bag from right under their noses, using his priest disguise.
Which meant that when they got back to civilization, they were rich. At least Luke was, but he was intent on taking care of Susan and Gina.
A month later they found the home they wanted on the beach and bought it. Then they hired a serving girl, and a second one to do the cooking. Luke made sure that both girls were young, in good shape, and had basically submissive personalities. From the start, he made it clear to them that the servants around his house would wear very little clothing and would be shackled at all times. And the punishment for failing to keep the house clean or make the meals properly would be hours spent in extremely tight bondage while their nudity was on display to the whole household.
The one who had just turned eighteen, Ramona, tested that claim almost immediately and spent her first night in their house naked and tied down to her bed. Carlita, the nineteen year old, took a little longer to test his authority, but she did after Ramona told her that it was fun to sleep all tied up and have that big, strong gringo take your clothes off to tie you. Before long, both were "earning" weekly punishments. Often more.
Carlita discovered that she loved being hogtied, and would often come to the Master of the house to confess to fictional sins and beg him to punish her. Which he always did.
Susan stretched and remembered the night when they finally felt safe and secure in their own home. It was that night, after Luke had used his tongue to excite her young body to a wonderfully high state of sexual arousal, that she told him she wanted him to take her virginity; it was a gift she was giving to him.
But, to her surprise, he refused, instead continuing with the oral attentions until she had her climax.
The next day he took her to a priest in the nearest town, and married her. That night, he took the virginity of his wife. The next day she confessed to him two facts: one, that virginity is highly overrated, and, two, that she loved the way he had bound her arms behind her with the elbows painfully tight together. It had made the sex act so much better, she said.
After that, Susan was tied up quite often, and certainly every time they had sex. It was also right after that Susan mailed a letter home to her family, telling them that she was safe, happy, but probably would never come back. She did not put the return address on it.
Gina was their house guest. As Susan had expected, Gina made a play for Luke, not to steal him away from the blonde he obviously loved, but just to get him in her bed because she found him a real hunk of man. And she was horny as hell.
But he turned her down, and every night after that, he would come to her room to bind her in some fashion that keep her totally helpless yet able to sleep comfortably. It was, he told her, to assure that she didn't come sneaking into his bed in the middle of the night, pretending to be Susan, and thereby tricking him into fornicating with her. Gina sighed and complained but inside she found just the touch of his hands as he removed her clothing and applied the tight ropes sent shivers down her spine. She was content with that. Had to be. She was also horny all the time, but, well, that was life....
And Luke had suspicions that Gina and the two serving girls were playing lesbian games when they thouglit he didn't know. But he didn't mind. They all were happier when sexually satisfied. Leaving Gina tied in her bed did make it easy for the two of them to sneak in and take advantage of her, so he continued to do it.
Susan was brought back from her memories by Gina's words. "I would like to go home," the dark -haired girl said.
"What?" said Susan, suddenly alert.
"Oh, don't get me wrong, I love you two. And the way that you have been so kind to me. But ... Well, I would like to go back to my home. Maybe I'll come and visit you sometime, if you don't mind."
"Of course not, Gina, we would love to have you any time," said Susan. Luke nodded agreement.
"I will tell the authorities that Luke died down in here. They will no longer look for him." Then Gina smiled sweetly and sat up on her lounge. "There is one thing that I would like," she said, sounding like a little girl begging for a piece of candy.
"What's that?" Susan ventured, suspecting what the answer would be.
Gina leaned over and whispered in Susan's ear. The blonde's eyebrows went up but a smile lit up her face. "Of course, you can," she told Gina. They both had wicked grins on their faces.
That night, they told Luke what to do. He was wise enough not to argue with two determined women, and obeyed. Susan was stripped naked as Gina watched and tightly bound to the wooden post they had put in their bedroom. It was very solid, and Luke bound her naked body to it as if he were lashing an elephant down. There were many ropes, all very tight, and dozens of knots, all impossible tight, and the position left Susan with her arms pulled back around the post and her chest thrust out proudly. Then she was gagged with a roll of cloth tied in place by many turns of a cloth strip round her head.
Then, as he was told to do, Luke undressed the raven-haired Gina, slowly and so that Susan could see each piece of bare skin as it appeared. Then he took Gina's arms and pulled them behind her back, looping the elbows first then the wrists with windings of tight rope. He cinched them all down and knotted them half a dozen times. Then he gagged Gina in the same manner as Susan. But first he ordered Gina to go over and suck on Susan's already rigid nipples until the girl lashed to the post was moaning with passion.
Then, with the gag in place, he picked Gina up and tossed her on the bed. There followed a long, drawn out session of lovemaking that displayed both his staying power and Gina's almost unlimited capacity to stay sexual aroused for hours. There were several orgasms for the Italian girl, but it was hard to count because she seemed to float from one to another in a golden haze of ecstasy.
All the while, Susan twisted at the ropes holding her wrists tightly together, and strained with all her strength against the ropes. She moaned loudly through the gag and tried to plead for someone to come and touch her. As she struggled against ropes that would not give, the couple that Luke had corded between her legs and right over her clitoris came into play. Suddenly she found herself exploding in a blaze of heat and flashing colors.
When she came to, she was still tightly bound, Luke was still screwing Gina, her being impaled as she sat on his lap, and Susan realized that she was horny, satisfied, and excited, all at the same time.
