The subject of victim psychology is one which has acquired greater interest in recent years, due mostly, perhaps, to the widely publicized "conversion" of Patricia Hearst to the radical S.L.A. Why a victim will turn and become a party to his or her own abduction is a question which holds numerous variables in human behavior and one which is certainly open to debate.
The young nurse in this story, Karen Mason, finds herself abducted by a former patient, and after repeated sexual assault, she becomes a once normal woman facing the prospect of depravity. Should she attempt to escape, or should she comply with the demands of her tormentors? Who can say?
CAPTIVE BRIDE-a thought-provoking story of a young woman's reactions to brutality and slavery. It is a warning to us all.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
It was almost nine o'clock, and I'd slept in fits and starts from the time when he'd finally stopped fucking and let me get a little rest! God knew I needed it!
"Today," I said quietly, "is the first day of the rest of our lives."
Still smiling, I went into the bathroom. I set out towel, soap, and clean underwear, and I turned on the water in the shower, but as the warm spray drenched my hand a wicked thought entered my head. I shut off the water, dried my hand, and tiptoed back into the bedroom. Chad was still asleep. Carefully, I eased onto the edge of the bed. I took hold of the cover, pulled it slowly down the length of his firm, tanned body. His shorts were full of man, and I put my hand on them for a moment, cupping the warm sleeping cock inside.
"Oh, yeah," I said with a suppressed giggle. Excitement flooded me.
I've never been much for sex fantasies. I'd always been pretty satisfied with the sex I got, and it seemed so dippy to he there pretending I was in the middle of some incredible sexual scenario out of the Marquis de Sade by way of the "Kama Sutra" and "Behind The Green Door," or wherever it is sexual fantasies come from. But him lying there asleep, wearing nothing but a pair of tight jockey shorts and a thick coat of body hair made me think of James Caan, and my cunt started to get wet. That was a turn-on I couldn't resist, no way!
He-Chad, I mean, since I've never even met James Caan-has the kind of body that's always been my favorite. Muscles in all the right places, big jock shoulders, narrow waist and smooth flat ass, tapering to the kind of hard-thighed legs that can run five miles at a stretch or trap a slim woman's body in the sort of iron grip that means some sweet fucking is on the way. He also had lots of body hair.
"Sometimes I think I'm screwing a monkey," I'd tell him as we were wrapped in a fuck and my stiff nipples bored into the hair on his chest.
"Sometimes I think I'm fucking a mink," he'd answer.
And I guess we were both right in our own way.
Mmmm. I touched his knuckles. His hands looked as if they were too big, too beefy, too awkward to hold anything less delicate than a football. They didn't look like a doctor's hands at all, but they were. He was a full-fledged MD., a pediatrician, no less! And he was also mine-all six feet-two, 210 pounds of him. Not to mention the seven inches of delicious gristle that made his shorts bulge out in the most eye-catching fashion! I let my fingertips walk down his chest, tiptoe through his hair, down the firm flatness of his belly, and head straight for the waistband of his attractively snug jockey shorts. For a moment I was content just to feel him, my hand pressing down lightly upon his cock, assuring my senses that it was still there, sweet as ever.
Not that I really needed any proof. God, he'd used the thing on me enough last night to kill any lingering doubt I might have had! But last night had been special, the kind of night you don't have too often in this life. And today was special, too, and I looked at the clock. Two minutes after nine. Was there really time? Oh, shit, there's always time!
I hooked my thumbs in his waistband, pulled his shorts down and tucked them safely behind the dangle of his big nut-sac. He stirred and breathed heavily in his sleep, but I was already breathing on his cock as I got closer and closer and closer My tongue came out and I started to lick his cock, very softly, very cautiously. He tasted like warm meat. I held him firmly at his root, and I made his cock tip wiggle from side to side as my tongue raced after it, licking whenever, wherever I could.
Chad stirred again, made a little snorting sound. I kissed his cock, rubbing my lips all over him as he began to fill in my hand, against my mouth and tongue. He might be asleep but his cock seemed to be as wide awake as any woman could ever want a cock to be.
When he started to stiffen, he didn't need a lot of time. I don't think my heart pounded more than thirty or forty times before he was stiff. His cock thrust into my mouth as if it had a will of its own. I opened wide, took him in, started to suck him hard. It was his favorite way to wake up, and my favorite way to wake him. And today was so special, for both of us, I put my index fingers alongside his balls and let his cock fill out inside my possessive mouth.
"Mmmppphhh," I heard him growl, and I felt his body begin to move. Still sucking, I looked up just in time to see his eyes open. His were sleepy eyes, and he had to blink them several times before he got them into focus. Then he realized that the warm wetness surrounding his hard dong was my obliging mouth. I saw him smile.
"Hi, babe," he said, and he reached to touch my forehead.
I blinked my own hello back at him, and I didn't stop working my jaws around his fat, stiff cock. He had a cock like a baseball bat, fatter at the tip than it was down the shaft, and I had five of his seven inches buried in my mouth while I did my damnedest to get the rest of him into me as well.
The hair at the base of his cock tickled the tip of my nose and the point of my chin. It was a pleasant feeling to start off the day like this.
I took a deep breath and eased the end of his cock right to the top of my gullet. It was as if I had a lump in my throat which I couldn't quite swallow and wasn't sure if I wanted to. I'd learned to deep throat just for him. It was something I'd never done for anyone else and never would do for anyone else, and he knew it as well as I did.
My itching lips formed a ring around the very base of his cock and I could taste the sweat on his flesh. One of his pubic hairs had gotten under my upper lip, too. It tickled, but I wasn't in a position to do any laughing. I had other fish to fry, and a bull to milk-a big, hard rampaging bull that filled my mouth.
His eyes were open now, and he was grinning, and he had both hands on my head.
"I can feel your tonsils, Karen," he told me. "They tickle."
I made a choking noise around his cock. I didn't have tonsils, but it was one of our favorite jokes. You know how it goes. All couples have little things that they find excruciatingly funny.
Slowly I began to lift my head, a little at a time, and the glistening, saliva-drenched barrel of his cock emerged from between my lips. I still fingered his balls, pushing the big delicious stones together as I corkscrewed my mouth. He stroked my hair and ears, but he didn't try to direct me or dominate me. After all, I was the cocksucker in this duo, and I didn't need directions. It wasn't exactly the first time I'd ever blown his big lovely cock.
His name really wasn't Chad, by the way. He was christened Charles Luther Mason II, no less, but he never struck me as a Charley or a Chuck, let alone a Luther, or even a Jr.
I called him Chad because he reminded me of Chad Everett on that old TV doctor series whose title I've forgotten. Little old lady patients adored him because he was so clean-cut and wholesome and all-American and an all around nice guy-the boy next door with a little black bag. Only right now he (and I) were more concerned with the large hairy bag between his thighs and the strong pole that was thrust up into my sucking mouth, and if I thought of him in any terms, it was as Dr. cock.
I kept sucking, drawing my lips up until just the cock tip was still caught inside my mouth. The edges of my teeth locked around it, preventing a total disengagement. I sucked his big slick cock knob with a passion, while he tried to stab himself up into me. I pinched his nuts and he slacked off a little, and I kept on gobbling his pricktip, using my tongue around the very end of his cock, teasing until I could taste the first dribblings of his jism began to ooze out, thick and tasty. I'd fallen in love with his cum the first time I sucked it out of his throbbing cock.
"Don't bite it off," he said, husky throated as always in the morning.
Only one of his hands was on my head. The other one was braced alongside him and he sort of angled himself up into me, pushing with his cock. The stabs got more and more forceful, until I had no choice but to give him the rein. I opened wide and he thrust into me, and I eased onto my side. Chad moved too, and he fed his pecker into me while I sucked, getting my mouth ready for the best brand of breakfast food on the market.
"That's the way, Karen," he told me, but I didn't have to be told. I knew I was doing a good job. His cock was all shivery and throbbed inside my mouth. It was rabbiting its way in and out, not pushing so deeply I couldn't keep sucking with all the expertise I had developed in my twenty-six years, and that was plenty of expertise by anyone's standard.
I put a hand around him to stroke and rub his ass while I sucked his tool. I cupped his nuts in the palm of my other hand, squeezing them every so often to give him the message. I lay on my side and kept bringing my thighs together tightly, massaging the oozing slice of wetness inside my panties. I could feel the juices leaking from me, and I resolved to suck him faster, harder, to siphon the first rush of juices from him and then to mount his body and fuck him blind. But, God, we didn't have all that much time! I really shouldn't even be doing this, but I was, and I had no intention of stopping, not when his orgasm was so close. The very thought of his orgasm made me hunger for my own.
Suck it, Karen, I told myself. Get those lips working, make that tongue dance around his cock. Drink his jizz, savor every little drop of the sticky honey-juice, and then it'll be your turn. Mmmm, would it ever!
I think most girls who go into nursing are activated, whether they know it or not, by an inner desire to have a doctor for themselves. Why not? Doctors are good providers, and some of them (gynecologists!) can be a bedful of fucking. My doctor was just starting his career as a practicing pro, and he sure knew how to get to the bottom of my pussy in a hurry.
I started to suck him fast and hard, pinching his firm hard ass while I mouthed his rod, and he made a happy sound deep in his belly. I could feel him coming, feel it shoot right up the barrel of his cock and into my gulping mouth. Morning cum, not the best, maybe, but damned good. And this morning, of all mornings, it was the answer to a maiden's prayer. Too bad there weren't any maidens around, but I think I made up for the lack.
I tightened my itchy lips around his knob and I sucked like hell. The stuff just kept squirting into me, a little thin, but that was only natural. His bladder was probably full of piss and, as soon as I stopped gobbling, he'd be off the bed and into the bathroom, shooting his yellow stream into the John. But the morning he was capable of only one hard-on would be the morning I would pack my bags and head for the door. We'd only just begun.
I drank at his spouting hose until the flow of cum had stopped, and I swear I could taste piss mingled with the last bubbly spurt of cum he pumped into my avid mouth. His cock quivered inside me another time or two, dry-jiggling, and then it went soft fast, and I released him.
A string of jizz connected my lower lip and the head of his prick, but only for a second. I broke the string with my fingers and licked up the sweet savory cream. "Back in a sec," he told me.
I followed, and as he began to piss into the John, I stood in the doorway. All I had on were my panties, and as I watched him tooling out his yellow stream, I pushed aside the crotch strip and began to run my fingers through my cunt hair.
I have a thick bush, very dark and very curly. I love to touch it, but even more, I love to touch my puffy, plump cuntlips that lurk amid the curly forest of my hair. They were wet and tingly as I started to caress them, and I couldn't help but moan just a little. My clit rose up to meet the stroke of my index fingertip, and Chad looked around.
"You never get enough, do you?" he grinned, shaking his cock dry. He didn't bother pulling his shorts up, and his soft cock bounced as he walked toward me. I was breathing hard, and I knew his cock wouldn't be soft a hell of a lot longer.
Watching him piss was always a turn-on for me. That's something women really do enjoy seeing, in case you didn't know. Shaving, too-a man lathering up and then cleaning himself with a razor. It sends shivers up and down my spine. If it wasn't for the chance of him cutting himself, I could really get off on the idea of blowing my man while he shaved.
Oh, hell, I didn't need artificial turn-ons! The sight of that cock of Chad's, the lingering residue of cum I could still taste in my mouth, the seeping wetness from my crack-those were the real stimulants, and believe me, I was stimulated!
He took me in his arms and he started to rub his cock against me, and I could feel it harden as we did a little one-step dance in the doorway. Almost before I knew it, he'd picked me up in his arms and we marched back to the bed, and I knew I was gonna get a fucking!
"How do you like carrying me?" I asked him, tickling his ear. "You'd better get in practice, you know."
"I'll show you what kind of practice I'm in," he replied, easing me down onto the bed. His cock stuck out, and there was a bubble of wetness in the tight gash of his cum-slit. I reached up and wiped it away. And as he watched, grinning, I licked my fingertip. He straightened up, pulled his shorts off, and dropped them onto the floor. I slid over to make room for him, and he joined me on the bed, naked, the way I liked him.
"C'mere," he growled, cupping my tits. They swelled in his hands, seeming to hum as my breath came out faster and faster. My nipples were hot and stiff against his palms.
I covered his hands with my own, and I was purring, writhing and stretching on the bed. He kept squeezing my tits, fingers digging into the plush foamy softness of my chest. My nips throbbed and I thought they would burst like little pimples. My throat hurt and my breath had gotten very raspy. I started wiggling my ass around, slinking a thigh against his leg. I reached down and took hold of his cock and it felt so big and fat. It was difficult to believe that not five minutes ago he'd pumped a sweet wake-up dose of cum into my mouth. What more could you ask of a man, except that he made at least a hundred thou a year and that he keep you in lavish, palatial splendor? , That was the future, I conceded, but the cock I held so tightly was definitely, absolutely, a part of the present. It was worth a lot more than money and palatial splendor.
He leaned over, kissed me, and at the same time he let go of my tits. His hand slid down my body, rubbing my stomach briskly. If he weren't a doctor, he could be a first-rate masseur. But he wasn't too interested in giving me a rubdown, and I wasn't too interested in getting one..
He eased downward, into my pants, and now it was his fingers, not mine, exploring my cunt hairs and the bun-like puff of my cunt. I spread my thighs as he began to fondle my cunt crack, and then he touched my clit, just the way I'd touched it. I didn't really care that he was a pediatrician and not a gynecologist. He knew his way around my snatch all right and I was glad to have him there.
He worked his finger into my cunt hole, using the same gentle approach a mother would to push an enema tube up her child's asshole. I gasped, and my eyes rolled around in their sockets. His finger went out of me and both of us were hot to get me out of those confining panties. I wanted to bare my cunt for the workout that it really needed, first thing on this morning of all mornings.
The panties dangled from one of my ankles. Neither of us bothered to take them completely off, and I jerked on his cock, saying, "Come on, baby, let me have it, why don't you crawl aboard and fuck me a little, hmmmmm???"
He put his hand on my cunt and he gave it a friendly squeeze, and I moved my legs together, trapping his hand for an even friendlier session of back and forth squeezes.
"Do we have time?" he asked. "I mean, don't you have a lot of primping to do?"
I pulled his cock and he came barreling onto the bed, lying half on me. Our mouths came together. That was all the answer I had to make or he needed to hear. My tongue worked into his mouth and he sucked it, as avidly as I'd sucked his cock, and I was a little sorry I couldn't spurt a flow of thick tasty juice into him, the way he'd done for me. But you couldn't have everything.
My fist worked up and down his cock, keeping him rock hard. He slid his lower body across mine. My legs were spread, a welcome mat laid out for him. As soon as he was firmly into the fork of my body I closed my legs, snaking them around his calves, rubbing him friskily with my invitation.
"Do it," I purred into his wet mouth. "Why don't you just go ahead and do it?"
He lifted his groin from me, but I still held his cock. It was but a moment's effort for him to jiggle his rigid cock pole until its fat sticky tip was against the mouth of my cunt. My cunt lips yielded to his pressure, and I took my hand away and breathed deeply twice. It seemed that my breathing was the catalyst that sucked Chad's dong into my twat. He came hammering down, his groin pumping against me, and my cunt was full of his cockshaft and the juices oozed from the lining of my pussy.
"Yeah," I grinned, "I think that's what I was talking about. Sooooo, since you're already in me, why don't we just go ahead and fuck a little?"
"Why don't we go ahead and fuck a lot?" he countered, and it seemed like a hell of a good idea. Beside the bed the clock was ticking away, but time didn't really matter, not even today of all days. Nothing mattered except the fat cock that clogged my cunt and the fuck I was about to get.
"Make it good," I told him. "You'll never get to screw this single girl again, you know."
"I don't think it's going to be so awfully different," he answered, showing his teeth. He did have a mouthful of them, the kind of teeth made to smile with.
He got one arm around me, and I raised my legs a little higher on his body, opening more of my cunt to his cock, and he started to fuck me.
Maybe, I thought, he was right. It probably wouldn't be so awfully different when we got into bed tonight. But it would be good-it was always good, me and Chad, and I wanted it to be better than good right now. I started to writhe a little under him. He got the message and he started to fuck, just the way I wanted him to fuck, stabbing deep and letting me feel every inch of his fat thick cock as it reamed the clutching tube of my cunt.
My knees clawed at him, though I guess clawed isn't the right word for it. Maybe I should say they teased him, sliding up and down the flanks of his body, coaxing him, caressing him, while he kept moving his cock in and out of me in that steady, rather gentle rhythmic attack that I found so reassuring and sweet. He was a doctor, and he knew when to be delicate with something so fragile as my cunt.
The pressure was steady, a persistent friction on the walls of my cunt tube. He went into me to the root. His pubic hairs tickled the splayed mouth of my pussy when we ground ourselves together, straining against one another with all we had. His body was firm and hard. His upper groin rubbed circles across the exposed tip of my clitoris, sending little spurts of excitement through and through me. Messages of pleasure banged in my head like a drum. I got my arms around his neck and started to kiss him, passionately, wolfishly. My tongue drooled saliva all over his mouth and chin.
He gave me as good in return, and we kept fucking. His cock didn't plunge like an oil drill, but it moved in short, right-to-the-point strokes, in and out of me. I moved closer and closer to the sweet dreamy come I knew was building in my guts. I tightened the grip of my hands and legs around him and I strained, urging myself to greater and greater pitches of abandon. My ass lifted a little from the bed, as my legs rose higher and higher on his surmounting body. He grabbed my buttocks and squeezed them in counterpoint to the inroads of his cock. He played with my ass, spreading the cheeks, causing all sorts of pressures on my cunt and especially my clit. I twisted this way and that under him, feeding my cunt like a ritual sacrifice to the driving thrusts of his swollen cock. I'd sucked away his piss hard-on, and now I was getting the real thing, the full majesty of Chad's cock in an erection that sprang from pure, knowing lust. I liked that.
The pleasant gurgles in my tummy were becoming more and more unmistakable. It's a squishy sensation inside me when I'm about to come. Hard to describe but impossible to miss. My stomach feels as if it's contracting, and the feeling comes on faster and faster and then seems to drop down, into my womb. By that time there's no way to turn it around. I don't come big, or in multiples, the way a lot of women say they do. A come's a come, and mine always felt good-the bounce, the soaring, the wooziness behind my eyes, and the juice oozing from my cunt. It was almost here, now, and I tightened my arms and legs on Chad's body, pulling him closer to me, deeper inside me. I was breathing hard and fast, my eyes starting to roll around in their sockets. I had a quick glimpse of his face, and I could see he was getting close too. His eyes were shut tightly and his face was turning red. His mouth was set in determination, the look that men get when they're about to dump their jizz. It's a beautiful expression, and I wished I had a picture of Chad now, as his own desires were running rampant inside him. If would be nice to look at when he wasn't within fuck distance of me. That was an eventuality I was sure would be very very uncommon in the future.
"Now," I told him. "Give it to me hard, oh, damn, yes!!"
His cock began to move faster inside me, really abrading the lining of my cunt, but it was just what I needed. His big cock knob went deep into me and it felt as big in my cunt as it had felt at the tip of my throat. I moaned and clutched him tighter and linked my limbs around him in a death grip. My hole seeped warm juice and his cock made squishy noises as he kept plunging into me with those sweet short strokes.
"Now," I told him, "do it nowww!!!"
And I came. My belly heaved and my toes grew numb even as they started to curl and uncurl and curl again. I could hardly feel any of him pressed against me, only the big thick shape of his cock filling my twat.
He held me close while I began to twitch and shake and come, and my cunt danced up and down the shaft of his pecker.
I heard him groan deep in his throat, and he ground himself against me, hard and anxious. I could feel his cock start to jerk inside my cunt and I could feel the warm spurts of his cum, blasting into my belly.
"Fuck me," I panted, "oh, fuck meee!!! Fill me with your cum!! Fuck my head off!!"
He didn't answer. He just cupped my ass, squeezed hard, and kept on pounding his cock into me. Each thrust sent a fresh spurt of cum into my womb. I hadn't taken my pill this morning, but I didn't suppose that mattered too much, not today.
We humped together for what seemed an eternity. My eyes went back into focus and we slowly rolled apart. His sticky, limp cock eased out of my cunt followed by the viscous flow of his cum leaking out into my cunt hair. I looked at the clock. It was only twenty past nine.
He sighed in satisfaction and I rolled toward him, letting my head come to rest on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around me and we lay there purring in unison, both of us pleased with the fuck we'd shared. It was always the best way to begin a new day.
"I could almost dig fucking again," I told him, my hand lying just above the root of his soft cock, "but it's time to get going, stud."
I cuffed him on the flank, and I sat up, stretching. He tried to tickle my tits as he drew himself into a sitting position beside me. I stroked his hands while he petted me.
"It won't work," I said lightly. "You can't seduce me into forgetting, so let's get spruced up. I'm going to be married today, and I want to be the most beautiful bride in Arizona."
"Who said you weren't?" he wondered as I crawled off the bed and started into the bathroom. He came after me, but I shut the door in his face.
"Unh-uhhh!!" I trilled from behind the door. "I have to take a shower and if I let you in here, we'll never get around to turning on the water. And I don't intend to miss my wedding day. This is my last chance to be respectable."
I turned on the water and stepped into the hot, refreshing spray. I really could have dug sharing a shower with Chad, but we had a date with the preacher at noon. I really didn't want to miss it. Not even for a round of sweet, sloppy seconds.
My cunt still leaked the cum he'd shot into me. I touched it, getting my fingers nice and sticky and fragrant. Would it be any different, I wondered, when Chad and I were married? I didn't know. I'd never been a doctor's wife before. I'd know by tonight, though.
CHAPTER TWO
My name is Karen Barta. At least, I was when I got out of bed that Saturday morning. By twenty minutes past twelve noon, however, I was Mrs. C. L. Mason II, a doctor's wife, and that was just fine with me.
We'd been living together for almost a year, Chad and I, and it seemed as good a time as any to tie the knot. He was finished with his residency now, ready to set up his private practice. The marriage part wasn't very important, but it made his family feel better.. Since they were footing the bill for his initial office expenses, it was just as well to placate them a little. I really don't think they quite approved of me, since I'm basically a Polish girl from Pennsylvania who came to find her fortune in the great Southwest. But they preferred to have me as part of the family, not just the lady who was "living in sin", as President Carter has said, with their only son.
It was a little after six when we got home. Both of us were high and giggly from champagne and the festivities-church wedding, reception at the club Chad's family belonged to, a zillion dollars' worth of gifts (I'd be all year writing thank-you notes for them!), toasts, dancing, a good time all around. Chad's mother even smiled, and she took care to call me "Karen" instead of "Mmmppph", which had formerly been her pet name for me.
We had driven home in the brand new Chrysler Imperial that was a gift from Chad's Uncle Harry, the car dealer. Tomorrow we'd leave on our honeymoon, two weeks in Acapulco. But tonight was all our own, and it felt so different coming home as man and wife to the cozy apartment we'd shared earlier when we didn't have any legal obligations to each other.
We pulled into our parking place in the garage under the building.
"Oh, look," I said with a laugh, pointing to the space next to ours, which was presently occupied by a very shabby pickup truck. The space belonged to a tenant on the third floor, a crabby old dude who bitched about everything under the sun. His favorite pastime was calling the building super to complain about something-didn't matter what. He'd have something to carp about for sure when he came in and found his parking place stolen by that cruddy-looking truck. It looked like something left over from the "Grapes Of Wrath" days. Chad just laughed.
"The phone's gonna be busy tonight," he said.
I put my hand on his thigh. He was wearing a tux, and he looked fantastic in it. I'd never known a man who owned a tuxedo before, and every time I saw Chad in his, I got shivery between the legs. All through the reception I'd been touching him under the table, even when his mother was sitting beside me. Well, I didn't have to be circumspect now. My hand slipped onto his crotch and I began to knead the plump bulge that delighted my fingers.
"Our bed is gonna be busy tonight, too," I said throatily. "Do you think it will feel different-being married, I mean?"
"If it does, I may ask for my money back," he replied, and I slid across the seat, into his arms. We kissed a long time, and he had his hand under my wedding dress, rubbing up and down my thigh.
I wasn't a virgin by any means, but it was my first wedding, so I thought I was entitled to wear my white gown. Anyway, the dress was gorgeous and so expensive it took my breath away, and it made me feel so sexy!
His hand drifted onto my cunt and he began to stroke the puffy mound inside my panties. I wouldn't have cared if he'd ripped the beautiful gown off me and shoved his cock home right in the parking garage.
I started breathing hard, and my nipples stiffened with excitement inside my bra. A little dew of moisture began to dampen the crotchpiece of my panties. His fingers moved against the wetness, tickling my slit, and my heart was thumping madly.
"Let's do it," I panted. "Let's fuck right now!"
"Let's wait till we get to the apartment, at least," Chad countered, but his cock was hard, really hard, and my fingers twitched excitedly along the stout lump of his hard-on.
"Or at least till we get into the elevator," he added with a grin.
"Then why don't we hurry?" I asked, reaching for the door handle.
We rode the elevator up to our floor. It was a good thing nobody else got in with us because I couldn't keep my hands off him. I had his pants unzipped and my hand inside. My fingers were full of his throbbing cock. I didn't even let him zip up when we emerged on our floor, and I kept my hand in his trousers all the way to our apartment door.
"I thought you locked the door," he said, turning the handle.
"I did," I replied, still caressing his pecker. "I mean, I think I did."
"It isn't locked," he said. "Jesus, I hope nobody's ripped us off!"
I murmured something in reply, but I wasn't especially concerned. My cunt was dripping and my tits ached. If our place had been ransacked, I'd still have dragged him to the floor and fucked him amid the shambles. Horniness took precedence for me, right then.
But nothing was out of place when he turned on the light, and that made it all easier. He pushed the door shut and I dropped to my knees, easing his cock out through the undone fly. He was stiff and ready. His cockknob glistened like a ruby and already was coated with the watery moisture of his pre-cum.
"Right now?" he asked with a laugh as I began to work my mouth up and down the rampant lance of his cock.
"Right now," I purred, kissing and lipping him from tip to zipper tabs. "I want to see how it feels when it's legal!"
And with that I popped him into my mouth and started sucking.
"Jesus," I heard him groan in appreciation, and he started fondling my head.
His cock kept getting bigger and bigger, arching upward in my oozing mouth, and my face lifted with the angle of his rise. His cock tasted good, so good I didn't want to stop eating him, but I had to, because I didn't want it to be over so soon-not the first round of what would be the first fuck of our marriage.
The flavor of him still filled my mouth even though I was rising to my feet, smacking my lips, tilting my head backward so he could give me a sweet hungry kiss. His hands were all over my body and I thrilled in his embrace, and I could feel his cock, stiff and anxious between our bodies.
"It feels just as good, married," he told me in a soft, insinuating voice.
"It doesn't feel half as good as it's going to," I promised, breaking free. I laughed, but stopped short in the middle of it.
"Did you hear something?" I asked. Chad stood still a moment, ears perked. Then he shook his head.
"I could have sworn," I told him. "It sounded like footsteps."
"It was only my heart beating," he said, tapping his breast. "It sounds like a jackhammer breaking up concrete. How's your heart doing, baby?"
I touched myself. I was going thumpety-thump-thump-thump. You'd almost think it was our very first time together.
"I'm going to fix myself up," I told him. "Why don't you get that bottle of Pouilly-Fuisse from the fridge and pop the cork? And when I finish in the bathroom, I will pop your cork, darling. Pop it but good!"
"Sounds too good to pass up," he agreed. "In fact, I don't feel like waiting."
"The waiting will only make it sweeter," I promised him, and I went into the bathroom. I didn't hear any more unusual sounds, but the noise of my pumping heart was like a roar in my ears.
I hurried out of my wedding gown, then, with fumbling fingers, undid my bra and tossed it into the hamper. Staring at myself in the mirror, I cupped my tits, offering the full ripe-nippled mounds to the image in the mirror. I let my fingers glide across my red, lust-stiffened nipples, and I felt the excited throb of my body.
I think I have a body that's worth getting excited over. I'm medium-tall, fairly slender, with large tits and flaring hips. My bra size is 38-C, but my boobs don't sag. The nipples point upward at a slight tilt when they're stiff and pointy with arousal, and they were stiff as could be right now.
I squeezed them one more time for good measure, sighed at the delights flowing through the whole of me, and then I hurried out of my panties. I lifted one leg, rested it on the commode seat, and I intended to take off my stockings as well, but decided against it. Chad didn't have a stocking fetish, the way some men do, but I contemplated how sexy it would make me feel to appear in front of him, naked except for my sheer nylons.
I sprayed my hair with cologne, shaking my tresses around to get the full scent filtered through them. My hair is long, and I have to wear it pinned up in a tight, frumpish bun when I'm on duty, but tonight I was a bride, not a nurse. I let my hair fall onto my shoulders and I tousled it with my fingers again until the sweet cologne aroma enfolded my face. Next I smeared a few droplets of perfume onto my stiff nipples, and, with a smile, I applied a little of it to my cunt as well. My slice was already dripping with the fragrant musky juices of my arousal, and it blended perfectly with the subtle, sexy perfume. I fingered myself a lot more than necessary, rubbing a finger up and down my cunt slit until I was breathing harder, harder, harder. My clit stood up like a toy soldier on display. I pushed the tip of my lusty button, feeling the excitement surge through my entire crotch and radiate to the rest of my body.
"Oh, God," I said, "oh, dear dear God, it is going to be so fanfuckintastic! It really does make a difference when you're married!"
Giggling, I turned, and my first impulse was to go back into the bedroom wearing only my stockings and perfume. No, I thought. Let's make it a little funkier! I picked up my white wedding gown and I slipped it into place on my body, reaching behind to hook all the fasteners.
The gown had a tight bodice and, with me braless underneath, the erect points of my nipples were highly noticeable in the smooth cling of the white fabric. I cupped my tits again, squeezing to make sure the nipples stayed hard and noticeable, and then I picked up my white veil and dropped the white mesh covering down over my face. I could feel the tingly flush of sexual arousal color my features. My breath came out in little excited pants as I opened the bathroom door and re-entered our bedroom.
Chad was lying on the bed. His tuxedo was on the floor, dropped in a pile of discarded garments. The only thing he was wearing was a huge smile and an even bigger hard-on, which he caressed with one idle hand. Beside the bed, on a serving tray, stood the opened bottle of wine. He'd poured out two glasses of white Pouilly-Fuisse for us to make our private wedding toast, but somehow I didn't have a taste for wine right now. My eyes were on his stiff cock.
"Aren't you ready?" he asked, sitting up.
"Come here and take my dress off," I invited, "and you'll see just how ready I am."
He came toward me, and he said, "You smell fantastic." And then his hands were on me, squeezing my tits and testing the resilient erection of my nipples, and I was gasping and moaning, and somehow he got my gown unhooked and it fell to the floor, leaving me naked except for my nylons and cologne. The aromatic incense of my excited cunt seemed to overwhelm even the fragrance of my perfume.
He stooped, licked my nipples, and smiled in approval of their scented taste. He took one nip in his mouth and worried it with lips and tongue. My teeth chattered impatiently. I grabbed his stiff cock and began to shuck it up and down, and God, I wanted that thing! I wanted it inside me-in my mouth, in my cunt, even in my asshole if that was his preference! We'd tried buggery a couple of times, and I hadn't enjoyed it at all, but this evening, I knew, anything would be delicious! Every opening of my body hungered for him, and I could feel desire seeping from every pore in my flesh, desire that consumed me from the inside out and turned my brain and my ovaries to liquid fire!
We moved toward the bed, and Chad carried me in his arms, kissing my face and tits with each step he took. God, I wish there had been a million steps!
He laid me down gently, and then he sat down beside me, running his hands up and down my body. My nipples were like flagpoles and my clit ached within my cuntal slice. He touched my furry bush, his finger delicately exploring my crack. He gave my sex trigger a few sweet caresses.
"Let's do it now," I panted, "oh, Jesus, Chad, let's really do, it now! I feel like it's the first time again. Do you?"
"It always feels like the first time with you, Karen," he told me. "But first, a toast, if you think we have time."
Giggling, I sat up and accepted one of the wine glasses.
"To us," he said. "May we always be as much in love as we are right now."
"Is there any doubt?" I countered.
We clinked our glasses, and then we each sipped the chilled white wine. The noble taste of the chardonnay grape lingered on my tongue. But I knew something that tasted far, far nobler, something I would much rather drink than this twelve dollar wine. I put down my glass and I took hold of his cock, squeezing it with all the power and passion shivering inside my body. "Let's fuck," I said. "We can drink wine anytime."
"You have a way of saying it," Chad grinned.
He put down his glass, pushed the wheeled tray out of harm's way, then turned to face me again. I was still holding his cock, but before I could thrust my face into his lap he stroked me, laying me out flat on the bed, my legs spread so widely my snug cunt peeked open a couple of centimeters. He put his fingers on my cunt, opening me a little further. The tip of one finger was square against the base of my clit. I groaned deliriously and let go of his rod. Chad kissed my face, then started kissing his way down my body, and I knew that he had an itchy tongue, too, and that his itch was going to be the first one that got scratched.
He spent a long time on my tits, sucking them, kissing them, even chewing the stiff rubbery nipples. I tossed and writhed in pleasure that, even at the beginning of it, was almost too much to endure. And all the while he had his hand on my pussy, working my meaty, plump cuntlips, slipping a finger into me every now and then so it could wriggle into and out of the juicy opening of my twat.
"God, love me," I moaned. "Do it all!"
His finger wiggled into my hot fuck hole again, and my cuntal juices flowed like a river. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd gotten so turned on so fast. Maybe we should get married every day or two, just to keep the spice in our relationship!
"Fuck me," I moaned, "fuck me with your sweet finger! And don't stop sucking my tits, either, damn you, don't stop it for a second! Lick me, lick me on the nipple! Yes! Use your tongue! Oh, you know how to lick me, you horny bastard! Do it for me! Feel how hot my pussy's getting? Oh, Christ, I'm hot all over!"
And then I stopped, and my heart seemed to stick in my throat. "I heard it again," I said. "Listen. Don't you hear something?"
He raised his face from my tits, and he shook his head.
"I know I heard it," I repeated. "It sounded like footsteps. Oh, God, do you think there could be somebody in the apartment? Somebody watching us? Listening to us? Chad, honey, I'm scared!"
His finger squiggled into my twat again, and he gouged me with a relish.
"Let's give them an earful, then," he grinned, and with that he plunged his face into the fork of my legs and he started eating the shit out of my cunt.
"Stop it!" I squealed, thrashing on the bed. "Stop it right now!"
He didn't. He opened me up and he stuck his tongue inside me, almost as deep as he'd had his finger, and when he pulled it out, that frisky tongue of his got no further out of range than the budded tip of my clit, which he licked passionately, furiously, whipping me with his tongue, sending hot bursts of pleasure through my body like waves hitting the beach at riptide.
"Oh, damn you," I said, "I'm scared! Don't do this to me!"
But it was hard, so hard to stay frightened while he ate my cunt. I didn't hear the sounds again, and I told myself, it's all right, Karen. You were just excited. You were only hearing imaginary noises. Nothing else. Gbddddd... he was sucking my clit now, worrying it with his lips, pulling, stretching, making me break out in throbby goosebumps of erotic excitement. Juices oozed from my hole, smearing all over his burrowing mouth, and I knew that if I grabbed his ears now and pulled his face up to mine, that I could taste my own sweet cum all over his lips. Oooohhh, the idea! I reached for his ears, dragged his face toward me. He came, making little sounds of mock resistance. His cock, hot and hard, slithered up my body as he slithered his way up me, and it lay between us, stiff and fiery as a heated poker. I could feel each and every pulsation of his cock, and I didn't want to feel them outside, I wanted them inside me, where they would be only the sweet, hot buildup to a sharing of our mutual cum.
I kissed him passionately, still gripping his ears tightly. The taste of my cum was musky and noticeable on his lips-even the perfume I'd dabbed on my cunt in the bathroom. His tongue worked into my mouth and I sucked, but I wished it was his cock I was sucking, wished it was his cock... by God, it would be his cock! I reached between us, seized him by the dong, husked, "Roll over, on your back, lover! Let me at this sweet hunk of meat!"
He slid off me, and he moved onto his back. I didn't let go of his throbbing cock, not even for a second! As he moved, I moved too, making for the thick, rigid piece of man-flesh my fist was suffocating. The tip of him was smeared with a milky bubble of prematurely discharged cum, and I wanted to taste it. I wanted to taste more than just a little fucking bubble, wanted the whole damned thing, bursting into my mouth like a fire hydrant! There was no need to worry about ending our joys too soon, either. He was as hot and anxious as I was, and when we got started, we would fuck like rabbits on Spanish fly. We'd probably still be fucking when our plane to Acapulco took off tomorrow afternoon. Oh, who the hell needed Acapulco, anyway? Would I get a better round of fucking there, better than the one I was going to get in our own bed on the first night of our marriage? Not by a long shot!
My tongue shot out and I licked away the milky jism that coated his fat red cock-nozzle. I squeezed his prick hard, and another little bubble oozed into his cumslit. It formed slowly before my delighted eyes. I giggled, and then I lapped at it. I worked my tongue into his tight narrow slice as if I meant to shove my tongue right into the meaty body of Chad's cock. He yelped and bucked up, thrusting his cock at my face. I opened my hungry mouth to take him in.
I bent over his cock and he began to slide his hands up and down my lower back, tickling my spine, fondling my asscheeks, working fingers into my crack and onto the bun of my pussy. A rear approach that felt nice, and I didn't want it to stop, not any of it, not even for a second. I couldn't breathe because my mouth was full of cock and my lips were sealed shut. I couldn't breathe, I could only suck, and I sucked, and I sucked, and I sucked, and I sucked...
His cock firmed, stiffened, and throbbed! My tongue glided up and down his length, and then I was too busy even to suck that sweet joystick. I worked my mouth up and down the rigid barrel. I pushed his cock aside while I sucked his nuts, working them gently into my mouth and giving them bloody hell once they got there. I heard him groan, I felt his fingers stab excitedly into my cunt from behind, and I was as wet and juicy as ever. Maybe I'd let him fuck me the first time around. God, I was so near coming already, and I could tell from the shivering of his cock that he was on a short fuse too. It would be a shame if we didn't fuck at least a few minutes, our first time as husband and wife.
"Let's ball," I suggested, raising my head.
He nodded, still playing with my cunt. He goosed me with a deep thrust of his finger. I moaned, all round-mouthed and eager. I went to my knees as he rose behind me. His cock stood out big and proud, slippery with my spit.
I braced myself for his thrust, and when it came I moaned like a she-wolf in heat.
"AAAAHHHH!!" I groaned, the words sounding and resounding, echoing off the walls of our bedroom. Probably that old fart on the third floor was calling the super to complain about the noise. Christ, this end of Phoenix was probably full of people standing in their yards, trying to figure out where that weird sound was coming from.
"Fuck meeeeee!!" I whimpered, my ass wiggling from side to side.
He held me by the asscheeks, working me as he thrust again and again, and it was hard fucking, good fucking, savage fucking. We rarely built ourselves up to such abandoned sex, for he was a considerate, gentle lover who took care not to hurt me. But his nails were fierce on my ass, and his cock savaged and ravaged my pulsating, oozing cunt, and I loved it. God, Jesus, I loved it! I needed it! And I could feel a come boiling in my guts, my whole body telling me to come come come...
I heard that sound again, but even though it seemed much louder, much clearer, I decided to not pay attention. I didn't tell Chad to stop and investigate. I told him to fuck me.
"Fuck meee!!" I screamed. "YESSSSS!!"
And he did fuck, God, how he fucked! His cock barreled into me, filling me with its hard thickness. He went in deep, really deep, and I thought I could feel him pushing at my heart with the tip of his cock.
"That's it," I gasped, "oh, Jesus, Lord, that's ittttt!!!"
Suddenly, he stopped, and he said something I couldn't understand. All I knew was that he had broken his rhythm, his cock was half in me and half out and he wasn't fucking me anymore, he wasn't gripping my ass and working my asscheeks up and down, he wasn't pounding me with that hard stick of his, he was-what was he doing?"
I looked over my shoulder, and I saw him, and I knew what was happening. Somewhere inside me, something had been aware. It all seemed to happen so slow. I slowed down too. When I opened my mouth to speak I heard the words come out slowly, like a 45 rpm record played at 16 speed. There was Billy, standing beside the bed, holding the bottle of Pouilly-Fuisse in his hand. He held it upside down, the wine running out onto the floor and puddling at his feet. His face was fiery-red. He said something. The words droned so slowly that I couldn't understand them. He raised the bottle, which was empty now. He swung it in an agonizing, protracted arc. It looked like instant reply on a TV football game. I heard Chad say "Nnnnn." The bottle smacked against the side of his head and he fell back, away from me. His cock jumped out of my cunt. His body fell in slow motion from the bed, onto the floor. He hit the tray as he fell, knocking it over.
Billy looked at me and said something. Even though time had started to move again I couldn't understand what he said. I screamed, and I screamed, and I screamed. His words raced past me-time was not only back in operation, it raced now. He sounded like a children's record played at 78 instead of 33.1 kept screaming, trying to pull the sheet up to hide my naked body from him. Before I could, he had me by the wrist.
I screamed "Noooo!!!" and then he slapped me on the point of my chin. My head snapped and my eyes rolled in their sockets and he hit me again. And this time everything went black and I fell. I never hit bottom. I fell forever. I was still falling when I woke up, but that was a long time later and in another place.
CHAPTER THREE
I guess Rosanna Roannadanna is right. It just goes to show you, it's always something.
Almost a year ago they brought him to the hospital. His name was Billy Bissonette. He was nineteen years old and he had slashed his wrists with a jackknife after losing his job at a body shop downtown. They brought him to the emergency room where I was on duty at the time.
He was a pathetic case. What else can you say about a nineteen-year-old boy who tries to kill himself? Suicide is a gesture, a cry for help, and God knew he needed help!
He was a tall slender boy, as thin as a rail, with straight black hair down to his shoulders, high cheekbones, and a sharp narrow nose. Part Indian and born a bastard, he had lived with his grandfather on one of the scrubby mesa reservations. His grandfather had died, and his mother had long since abandoned him. He joined the army. After only a month or two in uniform, he pulled a knife on his sergeant and went wild in the barracks or something. His medical history didn't make it too clear.
After the army he'd gone to work in the body shop, washing cars after they'd been refurbished. The owner had decided the job wasn't necessary and he'd given Billy a pink slip.
Slashed wrists weren't his only problem. He was seriously malnourished and he still showed signs of the mental problems that had gotten him bounced out of the army. The doctor put him on an I.V. and kept him for observation. That's where I came into it. During the emergency room treatment, Billy had laid his head on my breast and sobbed his heart out. He had moaned that he really wanted to die and would they please just let him. He said he was no use to anyone not even himself-the whole routine you get with that kind of patient. I'd been a nurse for quite a while. I'd heard it all before, so I just stroked his coarse, sweat-dampened hair and told him, "It's all right, really, it's going to be okay, you're not alone, Billy, someone cares, I care. Really I do."
He just kept sobbing until the doctor finished bandaging his wrists.
I guess he took me literally. When they moved him into his little room and hooked up the I.V., I had to be there, holding his hand, assuring him that it was okay and that no one wanted to hurt him.
Christ, all the signs were there, but I must have been too stupid to notice! All I could think of were the poor pathetic boys I'd seen when I worked at the V.A. hospital in Oklahoma. Some had been crippled and maimed beyond hope in that goddamned war in Southeast Asia.
He was so much like them. He'd been crippled and maimed, not by war but by life itself. He didn't have a friend in the world, and he needed one very badly.
When Sally went in to give him his vitamin B-12 shot the second day, he threw a bloody fit. Screamed, yelled, and tried to throw his I.V. hookup at her. She backed out in a hurry and got me from nurses' station. His rage changed to smiles when I entered the room, and he just rolled over like a puppy, hoisting his white gown with a heavily-bandaged hand. I injected him in the ass, swabbed the puncture with cotton.
"Karen, I don't want anybody but you," he said.
I should have been listening, but apparently I wasn't. I still didn't see what was coming.
Later that day, just before I went off duty, Eleanor came out of Billy's room with water spilled all over the front of her uniform.
"That son of a bitch," she said, shaking water off her hands. "Karen, it looks as if he won't let anyone else give him a bath, either. I think you're going to have a stray dog camped on your porch."
Sighing, I got a sponge and a basin of fresh water and went down the hall. Billy was lying on his bed scowling, arms folded across his chest. There was a basin upside down on the floor. He looked up, and he beamed with delight.
"Hi," he said happily.
I took off his gown. He didn't make a fuss at all. It was the first time I'd ever seen him completely naked. Somehow he'd allowed himself to be gowned without resistance when they brought him up, but I think that was because he was full of the tranquilizer they'd given him in emergency.
He was slender, almost bony. His ribs showed, and there wasn't a spare ounce of flesh on him. He didn't look Indian-his skin was very pale, almost milky. He had almost no body hair, except for a couple of smallish puffs under his arms. I pushed the sheet down, and I saw that he had no hair to speak of around his cock, either, just a few stray curls here and there.
His dick was long and limp, the longest soft cock I'd ever seen. It must have been eight, maybe nine inches long. The foreskin was pulled up around the tip like a turtleneck sweater. It was a slender cock, as slender as the rest of him, but I didn't give it much of an examination. After all, I was a nurse, and this was hardly the first cock I'd ever seen, let alone the first naked male body I'd ever cleansed with a sponge.
I began to wash him. He was obliging as hell, leaning forward so I could rub down his back, turning over so I could do his hips and legs. I gave him the standard sponge bath, nothing unusual. Maybe my tits bumped against him a few times while I worked, but that was certainly not out of the ordinary either. I was only doing my job.
"Turn over," I said, "and we'll get you dried off. And then you have to take your pill, and... " He turned over, grinning like the proverbial dog. His cock stood up like a flagpole.
It was nearly as long as one, too. I dropped the sponge in astonishment. I had never seen a cock as long as Billy Bissonette's rigid, slender organ. I thought they only existed in the movies I saw at the Pussycat Theater.
It must have been a foot long, at least. A little thicker, now that it was hard, but still a skinny rod. The foreskin was peeled back, revealing a small, grape-like knob. The flesh over his balls was drawn tight, squeezing the twin orbs inside his ball-sac. He looked up at me, and there was the most incredibly pitiful expression in his eyes. It was like a dog dying to have its ears scratched.
I'm a nurse. This wasn't the first time anything like this had happened to me in the course of my duties. Any nurse knows what I'm talking about. Bedridden patients, in close contact with a woman. It happens. In nursing school they even teach you how to cope. You just flip your index finger against the end of that stiff dick, like you're flicking a fly, and the staff wilts in a shot. It was standard operating procedure. I put the tip of my index finger against my thumb and then I looked at his eyes again and I couldn't do it.
That's something they don't teach you in nursing school. You just learn it on the job. When the vibes are right, well...
His eyes did it for me. They took me back to the year I'd spent nursing in the V.A. hospital. The same wounded hurt. The need for some kind of love, some kind of affection, no matter how brief. I remembered some poor boy with half his face shot away and wearing bandages he couldn't ever take off in public. You didn't flip his cock with your finger and deflate him as if he were some kind of animal who'd done a no-no in public. He'd already had enough done to him. So you tried to make up for it as best you could.
"Billy," I said, shaking my head sadly.
The corners of my mouth turned up into a smile that tried to tell him it was okay and I sat down on the edge of the bed.
"You're not supposed to react this way," I told him, and I laid my hand on his flat, hairless abdomen, halfway between his navel and his upstanding pecker. He touched me with one of his bandaged hands.
"All right," I said. "Just this once."
I took hold of his cock, held its warm barrel in a loose grip, testing the feel of him. He groaned and closed his eyes.
"Let's see if we can make it stop hurting," I suggested, and then I began to work my hand up and down his cock in a loose, limber kind of rhythm. It wasn't intended to be sexy, just to help him release his penile tightness. Involuntary erection, that is the technical term. As I saw my duty, it was to help him with that little problem.
"Karen, Karen," he panted, and he pawed at me with his cotton-covered hands. He breathed harder and harder, his FACE TURNING A DEEPER, EVER-DEEPER RED. Froth bubbled on his lips.
"Don't stop, Karen," he moaned, "please, don't stop, it feels so good, really good... " My hand tightened on his cock. I could feel the excited pulsation of blood in his pecker. A little vein hammered madly under the tip of my thumb. I didn't even want to guess how fiercely his heart must be thumping away in his chest.
"It's all right, Billy," I whispered, "there's nothing wrong. It's okay, darling, just relax and let me take care of this for you."
"Oh, Godddd," he groaned, his head and shoulders twisting about rapidly, spastically. I looked at his face and I thought, oh, my Jesus, he looks as if he's going to have a seizure!
I tried to remember-had his medical record mentioned anything about epilepsy? His lips kept bubbling and he was panting and gasping. He had his hands on his chest now, grabbing as if he were having a heart attack. I stopped jerking his rod, and his eyes bulged open.
"No, please, don't stop," he moaned, "I don't want you to stop, Karen, it feels so good, nobody's ever done anything like this for me before. I need you, oh, please."
God! I thought. What kind of sex life could he have, anyway? He was one of life's losers. If I couldn't help him, if I couldn't be the friend he needed "I'm going to... I'm gonna... " he sputtered, and I knew what he meant.
His cock had swelled noticeably inside my jerking fist, and I knew that it was almost time for his jism to come squirting forth.
Instinctively I reached into my pocket for a tissue but there weren't any. Oh, what the hell, I told myself, and I quickly lowered my face to the tip of his rigid, quivering cock. I opened my mouth and took him into me, sucking hard as I took the three or four inches of cock that would fit. I'd hardly gotten to whirl my tongue around the pulsating barrel of his cock when the cum burst into my mouth and down my gulping throat.
He came a bucketful, but I sucked and swallowed and not a drop of his jizz spilled from my lips. There was a tangy taste to his seed, not quite like-any other cum I'd eaten in the past. But then, every man's cum tastes different. Ask any woman.
Billy's cum hardly had time to register on my tastebuds, for I drank it down as fast as possible. He squirted in such abundance that the stuff clogged my throat and I had to gulp hard, fast. I could just get it down and get ready for the blast that would come with his next convulsion.
Through it all, my hand kept jerking on the lower half of his incredibly long cock, milking him, coaxing Billy to empty his turgid nuts into my receptive mouth.
It was not a sexual act. I didn't blow him, I just helped him get off. That's all. If a doctor had entered the room just then, I might have had some tall explaining to do, but any other nurse would have understood immediately. It was an act of sympathy, pure and simple, offered to one of life's walking wounded.
His cock stopped gushing, but it stayed hard in my mouth. I sucked at him a time or two more, pulling the last droplets of his semen out, and it was then that I actually tasted the flavor of the jizz he'd flooded into me. As I said, it wasn't quite like any other cum I'd sampled in my twenty-six years, and I had sipped at any number of spurting pricks in my time. There was a sweetness to him, a youthfulness. Wine drinkers have all kinds of words to describe the vino they love, and most of the words are completely subjective evaluations. Billy tasted innocent. How much more subjective can you get, describing the taste of jism?
His cock began to go soft in my mouth. I let it go, licking away a dribble or two that had begun to ooze down his barrel, and then I sat up, smiling at him.
"Feel better now?" I asked lightly.
His eyes were enormous. He grabbed at my hand, pressed it to his chest. His heart pounded.
"I love you, Karen," he whispered. "I never loved anyone, except my grandfather, but I love you."
"I love you too, Billy," I said, patting his head and drawing my hand out of his grip.
I guess I meant it, like the way you feel love for anyone that really needs love and can't get it. But I don't think he understood. His eyelids lowered and he began to hum softly, an almost tuneless chant that reminded me of an Indian song. I finished drying him, got him back into his bedgown, and gave him his pill.
"Now listen," I said. "Shirley will come in to give you another pill later tonight, and I don't want to hear that you gave her any trouble. Understand?"
"Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked.
"Of course I will," I said, pulling his sheet up. "Now you be good and I'll see you in the morning."
* * *
Billy was in the hospital eight days. The third day of his stay, I was in the cafeteria eating lunch when a snotty, arrogant young resident in pediatrics spilled a glass of cold orange juice all over the front of my uniform. It was the first time I met Charles Luther Mason II.
"You walk around like a fucking Chad Everett macho stud doctor asshole and you don't watch where you're going. I ought to cram that glass down your goddamned throat."
He countered with the extremely deft repartee, "Why don't I apologize to you over dinner?"
We shared a candlelight dinner and went to his place to listen to some music and talk, and wound up in bed, of course. Both of us had intended to wind up there all along.
I walked through the hall bowlegged the next morning on my rounds, but I was beaming. And every nurse on the floor knew that I had gotten fucked but good the night before. I knew that I was gonna get fucked but good again tonight, because Chad and I had another date. I still had a few tricks I wanted to show him.
It started that way, just a casual doctor-nurse thing. It was the kind of intramural fucking that goes on in every hospital. He lured me into the linen closet. We pulled rank on a young intern and a pubescent candy-striper whose little cupcake tits he was sucking.
He took me standing up against the wall. My skirt was pulled up and my pantyhose pulled down. He rammed his fat, stiff cock in and out of my creaming cunt.
We had lunch in the cafeteria later, and he didn't spill any orange juice on me. He did take off one shoe and stick his foot into my crotch, and tickled me with his toes while I tried to eat salad and a sandwich.
I kept saying, "What do you think you're doing?"
He didn't stop, and if he had, I'd have thrown my salad in his face.
After lunch I gave Billy another bath, and, wouldn't you know, his cock rose up again, and I had to jerk it off by hand. This time I had my tissues safe in pocket, and I used them to catch his spurting cum.
"Aw," he said, "I liked it better the other way. You know, when you put it in your mouth and sucked on it."
His eyes ignited in a sheepdog kind of hopefulness.
My God, I thought, does he expect me to suck him off every day? Things were starting to get a little out of hand.
Next day I didn't give him his bath. Sally did. I had already preached the gospel to Billy Bissonnette. If he didn't start behaving like a human being with the other nurses, I wouldn't come and visit him at all. He looked as if I'd slapped him in the face.
"I'm just your nurse, Billy," I told him, stroking his cheek. "I would like to be your friend, but you have to cooperate a little too. What happened the other day, well, it was just an accident, and I helped you take care of it. That's all, Billy, really."
"I love you, Karen," he whispered. "You're the only person who's ever been nice to me, since my grandfather died. He was a medicine man, back in the old days. He knew all kinds of things. He was going to show me some of them, but he died before he could. Please don't be mad at me. I don't have anyone but you, now."
It was pathetic, and the trouble was that I understood, too well. I understood why he clung to my hand with his bandaged mitts, the way he looked up at me with those almost liquid dark, yearning eyes.
"I'm not mad at you, Billy," I assured him. "But I have to go now. I really do.
"You're not my only patient," I added with a laugh. I hoped that the laugh would make us friends again.
It was time for my coffee break, and time to see Chad. We found an operating theater that wasn't being used at the moment, and he sat down in one of the gallery seats with his cock sticking up out of his unzipped pants. I hoisted my skirt and dropped my drawers and sat down on his cockrod, groaning with pleasure as the sweet fat tool rammed its way up my cunt. My break lasted twenty-five minutes, and we bounced out a fuck for at least twenty-one of those minutes. God, it wasn't nearly enough!
I came twice, in gaspy excitement, but my body's hunger cried out for more! Could I really wait until seven, when his shift ended? I didn't think so, but I would have to try. I could swear I was beginning to fall in love, something I hadn't felt since I was fifteen and absolutely mad about the boy two houses down the street from us. He used the opening to talk me out of my panties and I let him pop my cherry one night in the dew-covered grass. It hurt, and I bled like a stuck pig. It had rather soured me on love. But that old feeling was strong, humming away behind my 38-Cs, and I didn't have the strength to resist. Best of all, it was astonishing how great sex felt when I was giving my heart along with my cunt.
Well, it didn't take long to find out that Chad felt the same about me. We talked about marriage right from the start, but it wasn't the best time to get married. He was finishing his residency, and he'd go into private practice within the year. I knew he would be a good doctor and I was willing to wait. For his ring, at least. I already had his cock and there was no reason on earth to give that up, not when he wanted to give it to me as much as I needed to get it. I was sharing an apartment with two other nurses, neither of whom I especially liked, and moving in with Chad seemed the smart thing to do.
We were still a day .or two short of moving in together when I walked into Billy Bissonnette's room as part of my afternoon rounds. It was what I later considered the "fateful Thursday."
I guess I was walking on air, what with Chad and all. He'd spent most of Wednesday night plugging my voracious cunt hole with his patented hole plugger. I knew he had squirted gallons of his hot thick jism up my body. He had fucked me to come after squirming, screaming come. I'd gone eleven years without love, but I hadn't gone eleven years without fucking. I knew that he was exactly what I needed in both departments.
Billy looked up with the delight he always seemed to show when he saw me, but today I could have cared less. Tomorrow evening Chad was going to borrow a friend's van and help me load up my belongings for transport to the apartment building where he lived. "Your pill," I told Billy, and he opened his mouth obediently and swallowed. He didn't have the I.V. hookup any more, and they were giving him his vitamin B-12 by capsule. He'd be out in a few more days. His wrists were healing well, but he'd have to wear bandages on his wounds for a while.
I sat down by his bed, and picked up the paperback novel I'd been reading to him a chapter a day. It was Louis L'Amour, and the chapters were pretty short. It featured Indians, enough to keep Billy interested, and the prose wasn't too complicated. I started to read, where I'd left off yesterday. One of the Sacketts was surrounded by a hundred thousand vengeance-seeking enemies. Billy listened a moment. Then he slammed his hand on the book, knocking it to the floor, and with his other bandaged mitt he pulled down the bedsheet. His cock was standing up just like the flagpole it had reminded me of when I first saw it hard. His foreskin was retracted, revealing the grape-like knob. His dark red flesh was already coated with a misting of moisture, his pre-coital fluids as my nursing school instructor had called the stuff.
"Look what I have," he told me with a proud, beaming smile. He brushed his staff with one mitt and it wobbled like the leaning tower of Pisa, but it didn't fall over and it damned sure didn't go down.
"So?" I asked haughtily, bending over to pick up the book. My top was unbuttoned a notch or two lower than it should have been (thanks to a quick, furtive petting session with Chad in an elevator). Billy stared at my cleavage, at the firm flesh of tits spilling over the edges of my bra. His eyes sparkled with interest and I saw him lick his lips.
"You're using me," I told him. "At least you're trying to. Do you know that, Mr. Billy Bissonette? And I don't like it. Now pull your sheet up. If you don't want to hear any more of this book, then I'll take it with me and give it to someone who might be more appreciative. I don't think I'll be coming back anymore."
He jerked, and I saw big tears in his eyes. His tears started to roll slowly down his cheeks and his lip quivered. All his life this boy had been kicked in the face, and I had just added my shoe tip to the cause. But he was using me. Oh, damn it! I thought. Didn't they teach you in nursing school that getting involved with patients is the worst mistake you can possibly make? And what do you do, Karen Barta? You get involved with a patient!
Sighing, I sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing down the sheet.
"This is the last time, Billy," I said in what I hoped was a firm voice. "The very last time."
I took hold of his cock and began to stroke it up and down.
"No," he said in a thin, hoarse voice. "Please-use your mouth, like you did before? Please, Karen, please? It felt so good, and I know that you liked me, and nobody ever liked me before."
I nodded, glumly.
"But it's the last time, Billy," I repeated.
I leaned toward him and I licked the end of his cock, adding my saliva to the coating of tasteless droll that seeped from the slash of his red cock. He groaned huskily and the bed shook as he began to tremble in excitement.
I held his cock firmly in my hand, and I kept licking the end of his cocktip.
He was such a poor, pathetic creature, I told myself. Could it be wrong to offer him a little kindness, the only kindness he'd ever known? Somehow I didn't think so, but all the same, I wanted this to be over as soon as possible. I would not-ever-let it happen again. Thank God for the day when he'd be released from the hospital and sent back to whatever kind of life he might be able to make for himself.
I rubbed his cock against my lips, feeling the surge of erotic ecstasy as it shot through his prickshaft, and then I fed him into my mouth. I sucked hard, making my lips tighten around him. I hoped to finish him fast.
Not much of his long cock would fit into my mouth, so I kept my fist busy on the exposed three-quarters of his length. He was easily a foot long, though his pecker felt half as thick as Chad's shorter, fatter tool. I felt almost nothing as I ate Billy. Nothing except a sense of duty and the knowledge that I'd overstepped my duties as a nurse even though my intentions were good. Well, I would not be coming back.
Billy could throw things, he could scream, he could shit in the bed if he wanted, but nothing short of a national disaster would ever get me into a hospital room alone with him again.
"Suck it, Karen," he moaned in his throat, "oh, you suck it so good! I can feel your teeth but they don't hurt, and your tongue is so ticklish. Suck harder, Karen, really suck it, please?" He fumbled to hold my head, while his lower body jerked, stuffing more of his cock into my mouth than I could or would make room for. I chomped hard, with my teeth, and he made a screeching sound. His body jerked into stillness and I continued to suck him at my own pace.
"I'm sorry, Karen," he said, "I didn't mean to make you mad. But I want you to drink my cum, the way you did before. I want to feel it shooting down your throat and feel you sucking me, milking me dry. I want to see my cum on your lips and your tongue. It makes me feel so good when I see that, Karen, so really good, like I'm your guy and you're my girl, the way it ought to be, you know? And maybe when I get out of the hospital you'll let me come see you, and maybe, maybe I can fuck you too. I know how to do that, but nobody ever let me do it. Except Carmelita when we were both twelve. She laughed because I didn't know where to put my cock. I ended up squirting on her belly, and then she got mad and she hit me and went and told my grandfather. He whipped me because he said it was not right for my medicine."
I'd heard enough. The last goddamned thing in the world I wanted was Billy Bissonette dogging around me when he got his walking papers from the hospital. This had to stop, and it had to stop now. If I hurt him, I would simply have to hurt him.
To bloody goddamned hell with him and his grandfather and that little bopper slut Carmelita, whoever she was. I jerked my head up from his cock, and he groaned, and then I began to fist fuck him angrily, rapidly. I shucked my hand up and down his throbbing cock until the cum began to roll down his length onto my fingers. When I felt the first drop, I let go of him and jumped to my feet.
He lay there breathing asthmatically, his cock jerking and squirting, sticky jism sputtering onto the bed and the bed linen. Someone else could clean up the bed and get him fresh sheets. I was finished here, finished forever.
"Karen," he said, sobbing out the words though his eyes were dry, "what's wrong?"
"You," I said. "First, I am not your girlfriend. I am somebody who thought you needed a friend and who thought you were intelligent enough to know that I was only a friend. I felt sorry for you because your life was so fucked up and you were so fucked up. Outside this room I don't care if you live or die, and if you think I do, you are more fucked up than you seem to be."
He lay there, looking at the puddle of sticky semen on his sheet, and, hard as my heart was, I still felt sorry for him. No, I told myself. Do not give an inch, not another inch! I crossed my arms and stood there defiantly. Billy pulled up his sheet, whimpering a little, and he looked even paler than usual. He avoided my stare, looking instead at the floor, and he kept making those sounds.
Just then the door opened and Chad Mason came in, stethoscope around his neck, charts in his hand.
"Hi, baby," he said, slipping his arm around my waist and giving me a little peck on the cheek. "They told me you'd be in here."
I thought, oh, God, what if he'd walked in two minutes ago? I started getting extremely weak in the knees. If I hadn't had him to lean again, I'd have collapsed. My stomach was full of butterflies and I thought of how degrading I must have looked, eating Billy's cock.
"I'm going to borrow your nurse," Chad said to Billy, who looked up, slack-jawed.
"Hope you don't mind," he said. "I have a few things I need her to take care of."
He whispered into my ear. "I have ten minutes free. Let's fool around."
He spoke softly, but Billy must have heard him. Either that, or Billy understood the current that passed between me and Chad, something that had no room at all for him.
Billy growled an animalistic sound, and he tensed on the bed, and then he jumped, roaring. I screamed as Billy threw himself upon Chad and the two of them went hurtling to the floor. "NO!!!" Billy screamed. "You can't touch her! I won't let you touch her!"
I ran out into the hall, shrieking for help. By the time two interns had joined me, Billy was trying to choke Chad with his heavily bandaged hands. He was frothing and panting, and it took all of us to drag him off. I pulled his bedgown up, baring one firm flat buttock, and an intern shot him full of tranquilizer. Billy panted a moment longer, and then he collapsed, and we got him back into bed. A straitjacket was the next priority. I trembled in Chad's shaking arms while Billy was laced into his restraint. He was sedated, but his eyes still glimmered full of hate. His eyes were like an animal's. His eyes frightened the hell out of me.
Of course I told Chad all about it, but he understood.
"You felt sorry for the poor schmuck," he said. "If there was ever a human being who needed some love and understanding, it's that poor kid. Let's not talk about it anymore, darling," he said, and a kiss made everything perfect.
They kept Billy in the psychiatric ward for a couple of days longer, but he showed no improvement, and a commitment order was issued. He was transferred to the state hospital. Until the moment he appeared in my bedroom on my wedding night, using that bottle to knock my husband senseless, I had believed that he was gone from my life, forever. But I was wrong.
CHAPTER FOUR
Even before I opened my eyes, I was conscious of the dull anguish of pain inside my head. I'd never had a migraine, but it felt as if I were having one now.
For a few moments I lay still, refusing to move, refusing to open my eyes and look around me. Perhaps I'd only drunk too much wine with Chad, celebrating our wedding. I was hung over now, and I had fantasized the whole, awful thing, I told myself. In a moment or two Chad would touch me and he'd whisper into my ear, then lick it, and I'd feel his cock hard against my thigh and we'd roll into a sweet wakeup fuck. Billy was never there.
"Karen," a voice said. It wasn't Chad's voice. My nostrils sensed something peculiar-a staleness in the air, a dryness. It didn't smell like our apartment. Slowly I opened my eyes.
I was lying naked on a rickety bed-no sheet or linen, just a bare, coarse mattress under me-and Billy Bissonette's face was no more than twelve inches from mine. His eyes were hooded like a snake's and he stared at me with an almost evil intensity. He smiled, showing his teeth. They were white teeth, but crooked, and one of them looked rather like a fang.
"Oh, my God," I said, and he put his hand on my nearest tit, cupping it hard, squeezing down against the nipple which had puckered in fright.
"Let go of me, goddamnyou!" I shouted, and I lunged, trying to slide away from him.
There were sudden sharp pains in my wrists and my ankles. My eyes enlarged. Could it-no, never, he wouldn't have-I struggled again and again I felt that sharp gnaw of constriction. With a sinking heart I looked toward the head of the bed. My wrists were tied around with thin, strong cord, and the ends of those cords were attached to the rickety corner posts of the brass bed.
"Oh, no," I moaned. I tried to move my feet, but I knew even before I looked that they were tied also. I was strapped to the bed, spreadeagled, naked except for the stockings I'd been wearing when Billy appeared in our bedroom when everything went so suddenly, so awfully, wrong.
My face turned scarlet. I couldn't even huddle up and cover myself. God, was there any use? He'd tied me down. Was there anything he hadn't seen? Did I have any secrets left from him now? His fingers worked on the jiggly contour of my tit and he still smiled.
"I like you best this way, Karen," he said. "I like you when you're naked. I used to wonder how you'd look without your clothes, but I didn't know you were half as beautiful as you are. Isn't it funny, how you imagine that something will be so good, and then it turns out either to be really awful, or so much better you can't believe it? I love to look at you. Your hair, your tits, your slender little waist, the pretty patch of hair between your legs. Can I touch you there, Karen? Can I feel your pussy? Can I just touch it?"
"No, you can't," I snarled, but what the hell could I do to stop him? He let go of my tit and he made his fingers walk down my body into the thick patch of hair between my thighs. His eyes got big and so did his smile, as his fingertips brushed the puffy cuntlips of my snatch.
"Don't do that," I protested weakly.
God, my head was killing me! It must have been from that blow to the face he'd hit me with. My jaw still ached from the force.
He leaned over, and he put both hands in my cunt bush.
"I don't like all this hair, Karen," he said. "It gets in the way. I want to see what your pussy looks like, and you've got all this fur covering it. Let me-there!"
He spread my cunt lips with fingers that weren't nearly as gentle as Chad's. His fingers trembled with excitement on my flesh and I shivered under his touch. He leaned still closer to my cunt and his eyes were big. He seemed to be burrowing into me with those eyes, spearing his way up my pussy optically. I felt as if I were being ravished, so sordidly, so disgustingly...
I felt his breath flutter across my cunt and I moaned in protest. He laughed, and he leaned still closer, until his nose was actually touching one of my cuntlips. His nose was sharp tipped, and he wiggled it against me. His warm breath oozed into my cunt. "Please," I told him. "You don't know what you've done-you're in a lot of trouble, Billy, you're-"
"No I'm not!" he snapped, glaring up at me. "He's in trouble. That son of a bitch who tried to take you away from me! But I showed him. I bet I broke his fucking head with that bottle. I bet he's laying on the floor right now, and in two more breaths he's gonna be dead!" He laughed.
'That'll teach him to try and steal what is mine!"
Oh, my God, I thought, Chad! What about Chad? I'd heard the thunk of the bottle crack against his head. I'd seen him fall. It was possible to kill a man with a blow like that to the head. But had it? Did it? Was he...
Billy put his hand on my cunt and he squeezed. His eyes closed and he tossed his head back, moaning, sighing. He squeezed me with an almost manic intensity. One of his fingers was in my cunt with my labes pushed together around it. My clit twittered under the pressure and slowly, reluctantly, it began to peek forth. I felt the throbbing pressure of my rising sex trigger and I groaned again, biting my lip to keep from screaming.
I tried to get his attention somewhere else. But, God, what could you say to a maniac who had you tied naked to a bed and was fisting your cunt and obviously had every intention of doing a hell of a lot more to you? He was in the twilight zone, but when I looked down his lanky body, clad in t-shirt and cheap olive green work pants, I could see the lusty bone of erection jutting out the front of his trousers, and I knew! Oh, dear Lord, I knew!
"Did they release you from the hospital?" I asked. As soon as I'd spoken, gasping because of his rough pressure on my cunt, I knew I shouldn't have asked him.
His lips began to froth, the way they had at the hospital just before he attacked Chad, and he flowered at me.
"No!" he shouted. "I didn't want to deal with anymore of that institutional bullshit! We get the Phoenix papers, and I saw, Karen, I saw what you were trying to do! What he was trying to make you do, I mean! I know it wasn't all your fault! I saw in the paper that you were going to marry him. I saw your picture and thought of how you used to look at me when we were making love. Karen, I just couldn't stay there! I broke out, and I came back. I had to save you. Don't you understand?"
As he spoke, he twisted his hand on my cunt and his finger poked into my pussy, stabbing deeply. His eyes were enormous then. He sat there panting, working his finger in and out of me.
"It's so tight," he said, "and so dry! It's not supposed to be dry, is it, Karen? Isn't it supposed to be all wet and juicy inside you?"
I started to understand things now-the unlocked door at our apartment. Chad and I hadn't left the door open. Apparently Billy had picked the lock and gotten in. And those sounds I'd heard-what else could they be? It was him, crouching somewhere, perhaps in the wardrobe, watching us, listening to us, just as I'd thought someone might be.
"You were living with him," Billy said, slowing down his finger pokes. "You were living in that apartment with him, and you were sleeping in his bed, and I'll bet you let him do anything he wanted to you. Isn't that true, Karen? You were acting like a whore with that guy, being his slut. Was it because he has a lot of money? Was that the reason? I don't have any money, Karen, this place is all I have. I don't even own it. This is my grandfather's house, and it's all I have in the world. But we can fix it up, you and me, and we can be really happy. Oh, Karen, I don't think I can wait any longer! I need you! I've dreamed about you, and I've thought about you all the time."
He let go of me, and he stood up, unhooking his belt. I saw the old scars on the insides of his wrists, the leftovers of the very reason I had ever gotten to know this maniac. I found myself wishing that the ambulance hadn't reached him in time. That he'd pumped out his life's blood onto the greasy floor of that auto body shop.
His pants dropped and he kicked himself free of them. No underwear on him, and as soon as his pants fell his cock rose up, big and long, like a broom handle attached to his groin. He smiled, proud of his cock's length. He came onto the bed, first one knee, then the other.
"Look at it, Karen," he said. "It's all yours. Just the way it used to be. Only this time I'm not all bandaged and helpless. I'm strong again, stronger than I've ever been now that I have you. I'm going to fuck you, Karen, and when I do, you'll know how much I need you and how much you need me."
"Do you want to lick me first? You always like that, at the hospital. I still remember how your tongue felt on me. I used to go to sleep thinking about it, even when they had me in that other place, that bad place. I tried to tell them I wasn't crazy, that I was only in love, but nobody listened. Here, Karen, lick me again. Make me stronger and harder."
He pushed his cock down toward my mouth. I tried to turn my face away, but he caught my head and whipped me around. His prick rubbed all over my lips and I gasped and thought, oh, shit, what else can I do? I opened my mouth and my tongue came out and I started to lick his warm cock, licking reluctantly but licking all the same. He closed his eyes and moaned. He started to push his dong into my mouth. I gagged as he pushed deeper, but I couldn't move my face away. He stuffed himself inside, six or seven inches of stiff cock filling my mouth. I felt as if I was strangling on him. I'd never sucked that much of him in the hospital, when my only thought was giving some aid and comfort to a boy who needed it so badly. And now the tables were turned but good. I needed aid and comfort and there was no one to give me any.
"Suck it, Karen," he invited, working my head back and forth.
I didn't want to suck, but his cock was in my mouth and I really couldn't do much else. What choice did I have? My lips tightened and I closed my eyes, trying to pretend none of this was happening at all. But how long could I last with that long cock ramming into me, pushing deeper than it seemed possible for him to go. I felt him at the very back of my throat. And I knew I was going to gag and barf, but somehow I kept myself from doing it.
"Nobody's ever sucked my cock the way you do, Karen," he said enthusiastically, pumping in and out. "Up at the state hospital, I really ought to tell you, so we won't have to have any secrets from each other. There was this woman, I guess she was forty or fifty. She was as fat as a barrel, but the only thing she ever thought about was fucking. She'd chase men all over the grounds and drag them into the bushes and try to rape them. She did it to me once, got me down and pulled my cock out. She just went crazy and said it was the longest cock she'd ever seen. She was so wild she had to have it. She sucked on me, but it felt like I was sticking my cock into a jar of half-melted lard, you know?
"I didn't like it, not when she was doing it to me. She made me fuck her, too. She laid down on her back and spread her big fat legs and I couldn't tell where her cunt was at first because of all those rolls of fat hanging down. I finally got it in her and she started screaming and she didn't stop screaming till I made her come. She said I was good, Karen, even if it was the first time I'd ever really fucked a woman. She even made me put it in her asshole and fuck her there. When I was done, she reached back and scooped up the cum that was leaking out of her ass and she ate it, like a greedy sucking pig.
"I pretended she was you, Karen, all the time I was doing it with her. I pretended it was your cunt and your mouth and your ass, and when I came, God, Karen, I couldn't stop coming, because I was squirting into you, not that ugly old woman, you! And I'm going to do it to you, and it's going to be so good for us, me and you, Karen, so good, so goooooooddddd... " He jerked his cock out of my mouth suddenly, and my teeth snapped shut so hard my jaw ached. His cock was covered with my spit and I could feel saliva trickle down my chin. That story! Oh, Lord, what a disgusting thing to tell a woman! But he was so sincere, so fucking sincere! There was no way he could fake it, not in his condition. And that scared me more than anything else.
"God, Karen, I need to fuck you now," he said, blurting the words out after what, I realized, had been a long moment of silence. And with that, the madman threw himself upon me, panting. His body was heavy on mine. His hand fumbled between us as he brought the tip of his foot-long cock to the numbed lips of my cunt.
He thrust into me, and I screamed. It felt as if all twelve inches of his slender cock rod were stabbing into me.
"Noooo!!!" I screamed, flailing under him, but I couldn't resist, tied down like a hog for slaughter. The tip of his cock shoved deep, God, so deep. He was in deeper than I had ever taken anyone's cock. It banged the tenderness of my cervix and I gulped hard, trying to suck in air. I felt him thrusting at the entrance to my womb itself.
"God, stop it, will you... ahhhhhh!!!" I moaned and sobbed, certain that he had actually driven his cock into my uterus. The sensations in my belly were indescribable. My eyes felt as if they were going to bulge out of their sockets. His cock was slender, not as thick as Chad's, but it was so long, Jesus, so long.
He held me by the shoulders, and his face was suspended above mine. He was a study in horror to me in the awfulness of that moment. He gripped me tightly, and he made the most ghastly faces as he fucked me. Froth bubbled on his mouth.
"It's so sweet and tight, Karen," he said. "Fuck me, fuck me back, can't you feel me giving it to you? I've wanted to do this for such a long time and now I'm doing it, Karen, I'm fucking you. I'm fucking you with every inch of my cock and I know you like it. Why aren't you saying anything? Why aren't you moving? Why aren't you responding, Karen?"
"Because you're raping me, goddamn you!" I sobbed, and my eyes were full of tears. My cunt hurt, and so did my soul.
"You're not fucking me, you're raping me! Are you so goddamned stupid you can't tell the difference? Are you a fucking retard or something?"
I took a deep breath and resolved that I would lie there like a corpse until he'd finished taking his pleasures, and then whatever happened after that would happen.
He didn't stop. If anything, he gripped my shoulders all the tighter, digging into my soft flesh with fingers and nails. He kept up the rapid in-out strokes of his long cock, plunging as fully into me as there was room for him to stab. He lowered his face onto mine. I couldn't avoid the kiss of his bubbling lips. I gasped in revulsion, but he was kissing me and he was holding me and he was fucking me.
I don't know when my cunt began to juice, but some moments into the rape I realized that it wasn't hurting quite so much as before. My pussy wasn't as dry. His cock seemed to meet less resistance in its series of relentless thrusts up my fuck hole. I squirmed nervously but I couldn't shut off the little seeping flow of jism through the walls of my cunt. His cock began to make squishing noises as it kept on penetrating me again and again.
I moaned into his mouth, and my belly heaved more than once. Still he rammed his cock into the opening of my uterus, belting me so hard with his stiff prick that my eyes filled with tears. It hurt, oh, God, it hurt!
"Don't come inside me," I whispered. "I couldn't stand that! If you come inside me, I'll... "
"I'm going to come, Karen," he announced, and I bucked upward with all the freedom my body was capable of.
God, not inside me! I hadn't bothered with my pill this morning.
It had seemed a waste to take it on my wedding day, especially since Chad and I were both interested in having children of our own. This seemed as good a time as any to get my body off the pill cycle.
I was frightened out of my skull now, fearful that Billy would plant his jism in my uterus. I was even more fearful that his seed would take root in me. God, I even assumed that I would live through this, and of that I hadn't the slightest guarantee!
Billy was insane, there was no question of it. What might he do to me once he'd satiated the pleasure of which he'd been dreaming? Would he rape me and then cut my throat? Anything seemed possible.
"If you come inside me I'll kill you," I snarled. "So help me God, I'll kill you!"
His face clouded and he looked like a schoolboy who's just been paddled by the teacher for something that he didn't do.
"Karen," he said, in his little whipped-dog voice. His eyes misted.
"Uggghhh!" he groaned suddenly, and then he jerked his cock out of my cunt, just as the first waves of cum began to spurt from his reddened cock shaft.
"Oh, God, Jesus, not all over me!" I screamed, writhing as the hot sticky fluid spattered down upon my breasts and belly.
He was on his knees now, between my spread-eagled legs. He had his fist around his cock. He wasn't looking at me, or at anything else. His eyes were shut and he made weird noises between clenched teeth. His hand kept jerking back and forth on his cock and his cum kept spraying. It blasted onto my body, and some of it hit me in the face. A drop even spurted into my mouth while I was groaning in protest, and I tasted his semen flavor again.
"Christ!" I moaned, my head flopping to the side.
He lay down upon me, panting like a dog, and his cock and cum were sticky touching my flesh. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Like any woman, I've had sex at times I didn't really want to have it-with guys who were horny and just wouldn't take no for an answer. All the other times, a few strokes of a hot cock and a warm body close to my own had made my initial resistance seen a little silly. What's the old saying, "Lie back and enjoy it?"
Sometimes a little hassle before the fact only served to make the resulting fuck sweeter. But not this time.
I had been violated against my will, totally against my will. I was tied to this creaky, rickety bed, and I had been given no choice. A cock had been thrust into my mouth and me ordered to suck it. A cock rammed up my cunt deeper than a cock ought to enter a woman. Sticky jism had been squirted all over my helpless body. Now my rapist lying on top of me, shivering, shaking, holding me tight while he panted through the aftermath of his orgasm. His cock pulsated against my belly as it slowly went sticky-soft. I had been violated, and nothing like this had ever happened to me before in all my life. God, I thought, is this all of it-or-will there be more?
CHAPTER FIVE
I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to that question.
Billy rolled off me finally, and I felt filthy-dirty, smeared with his cum, but I couldn't even get a rag to wipe myself off. I tried to sit up, but the ropes were too tight. They held me back down onto the bed. I lay there, my tits heaving with fright, and for the first time I looked around at the surroundings in which I had been debased.
It was a one-room building. Cracks were in the wall here and there, dust and cobwebs. Not much furniture-a dilapidated iron stove, probably wood-burning, some shaky-looking chairs, an old sofa that was probably home to a million rats and other vermin. The windows had broken glass, which gave an ominous saw-toothed look to the windows. The bed to which I was tied appeared to be the only presentable piece of furniture in the whole shack. That's what it was, a shack, a dingy, squalid shack.
Billy had said something about his grandfather. Was this the home in which the boy had been raised? God, it needed Erskine Caldwell to do the place justice!
A bright-burning propane lantern sat on the edge of the stove, the only source of light in the room. Outside, through the cracks and the broken windows, I could see the gray of dawn, though, and I wondered what time it was. As if I were going anywhere!
My head didn't hurt as much, despite the ordeal I'd just endured, and I reasoned that about ten hours had passed since Billy had kidnapped me from my wedding bed.
"Are you going to leave me tied up?" I asked. He was beside the bed, putting on his pants. He turned with a foxy smile.
"Not always," he conceded. "But first you have to learn that we belong together, Karen. That you don't really want anyone but me. I don't know how long it's going to take."
He zipped his trousers, sat down on the edge of the bed. His fingers tickled their way across the tips of my tits.
"I used to wonder what your titties looked like," he said. "I never saw any except in the movies, but I knew yours were prettier than those actresses'. You're real, and they're just pictures on a wall. And you even feel real. I like to hold your titties. They're soft, but not too soft, and they're big, but not too big."
"That woman at the state hospital, the one I told you about-she had real big tits, but they were just fat and flab. They wobbled and they swung around and they looked really ugly. I'd touch them while I was fucking her, and I'd pretend I was holding your titties and that you weren't mad ( at me for touching them. You got mad at me that time in the hospital, remember? Or were you just pretending, too?"
"Oh, my God," I said. "Oh, my sweet God!"
"My grandfather said that there isn't a god, not like the white people think there is. There's just a great spirit, who's everywhere, and if you have the right medicine you're part of him.
Indians know that. But I was never really an Indian. I was whiter than all the other kids, and they used to make fun of me, and I don't think my grandfather even thought I was really an Indian either. He promised to show me his medicine and help me make my own, but he died. He said he'd come back, that dying wasn't really dying, just a kind of changing. I waited for him to come back, but he never did."
"Maybe you're my medicine, Karen. Maybe you and I can find grandfather and hell show us how to be part of the great spirit together. Would you like that?"
His voice raised in pitch and tempo till he was speaking fast and high. His hands wrenched savagely at my tits, clawing my boobs until I screamed, but screaming didn't help. I should have known that. But when you have to scream...
Outside, the light was stronger now. The sun was coming up over the lulls to the east.
Where in the fuck could we be? Somewhere on the reservation, naturally, if we were in his grandfather's cabin. But, Jesus, I didn't even know which reservation! And how would they find me, how would they know where to look for me?
Sweet God! Did they even know I was missing? What if Chad was dead, or still unconscious? What if our trail was cold? Did the Highway Patrol have Tonto to put his nose to the ground and sniff out the trail they'd have to follow when they came looking for me?
Abruptly he let go of me.
"Ill cook us some breakfast," he said. "It's time for breakfast. I have some eggs and some canned meat. Will that be okay, Karen?"
He pushed aside something white and picked up a small camp stove, one of those that used propane. He put it on a rickety chair and threw back the lid. He lit it, then went to get some stuff in a box, over in a shadowy corner. I wasn't looking there. My eyes were on the white bundle that he'd moved out of the way to get to the stove. It looked so familiar, but what was it...
It was my wedding dress! He must have picked it up from the bedroom floor after he'd knocked me and Chad unconscious!
"Oh, no," I said, "not that too "
* * *
He fed me while I lay tied to the bed, spooning scrambled eggs into my mouth with the gentlest hands imaginable. The eggs needed salt. He lifted my head while he poured Tang into my mouth and he fed me bit-sized pieces of warmed Spam, which I don't like cold or hot. But my stomach was empty, so empty it growled like a lion, and the food felt good going down, better when it hit bottom. The sun was up fully now, and the room was beginning to heat up, fast, the way everything does in this part of Arizona. Already I could taste the dry heat beginning to seep through the chinks in the cabin wall, and the dusty smell warmed in my nostrils too.
"Billy," I said. "I have to go to the bathroom."
It was true. I'm only human. He nodded gravely, and then he untied my feet. I stretched my legs, giving them their first taste of independent motion in what seemed an eternity. He untied the ropes that fastened my hands. They hung loose for a moment, and I slid off the bed, woozy for a moment at being erect.
"You'll have to go outside," he told me, and then he pulled at the ropes which were still tied around my wrists.
"Come on, Karen. I'll show you where."
The heat was more intense when we got outside and the sun hit us directly. Billy walked behind me, the two ropes stretched from my wrists to his hands. I wasn't strapped down, but I was just as much a prisoner.
The cabin was set halfway up a sandy, rock-strewn hill, with only the blue morning sky above us. Below, I could see a river, far far beneath us, and a line of green trees marking the waterline where there were no hills or ridges intervening. Nothing in this desert waste reminded me of any place in Arizona I had ever seen before, and I had no idea where he'd taken me. I might as well have been on the moon.
A pickup truck was parked not far from the shack. Of course it was the same shabby vehicle Chad and I had noticed in the apartment garage last evening. It didn't even surprise me when my mind made the correlation. There were some scrubby bushes down the slope, and a lone, gnarled tree standing gray and isolated. Billy pointed to the tree, and I marched glumly.
"Here," he said. I must have done a double take. He pointed to the ground. "Right here."
"Oh, God," I said, blushing for the shame of it all. But my bladder ached, so I squatted above the warm sand and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to know he was standing there watching me. I pulled down my pantyhose. My pisser opened and the liquid flowed from me, splattering onto the sand. I could almost feel the steam arising from my piss. I don't think I have ever been so acutely aware of the smell of urine in all my career as a nurse. The ropes slacked as I stood up.
"Promise you'll stand right here?" Billy asked. "I have to pee too."
Swallowing hard, I nodded. He let go of the ropes and unzipped his pants, hauling out the broom handle cock that had raped me just before dawn. He held it firmly in one hand and he aimed it downward. His piss began to stream, onto the very spot I had already wetted down. What a touching thought! I told myself in revulsion. The union of our urine! So much more meaningful than an exchange of wedding rings...
I looked at my left hand. The little gold band was still there. I really was a married woman. And in the greatest trouble any woman had been in since the days of Adam, Eve, and that fucking apple. And don't forget the snake, I reminded myself. He helped too.
Billy pissed and pissed. For such a skinny guy, he must have had a bladder the size of a pony keg. I stood there watching him let out his yellow stream, and suddenly it occurred to me-I wasn't being held, not now! He'd let go the ropes! Of course I'd promised to stay right here like a good girl, but what did that kind of promise count?
I gritted my teeth and shoved him, pushing him into the solitary, gnarled old tree. He yelled as he pissed down his leg, but I didn't have time to notice. I ran back up the slope, running like a deer, a frightened deer. I headed for the pickup truck that had carried me here and I hoped would carry me away. I heard him shout, "Karennnnnn!!!"
The handle of the door was scorching hot but I opened it and I hustled my ass inside. My dad used to own a pickup; I could drive on. Instinctively I reached toward the switch.
There was no key. The switch was empty and I froze not knowing what to do next. The door jerked open and Billy dragged me bodily from the truck.
"You promised!" he shouted, holding me upright by my hair. It hurt like hell. He began to slap me, back and forth. His hand cuffed my face first this way, then that, and I was sobbing and screaming and shouting, "Goddamn you, don't touch me again, I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!"
His mouth frothed and his pale face was beer red. He made snarling noises like a beast, and I sank to my knees on the hot gritty sand. Then all went dark.
* * *
When I opened my eyes again I was lying on the sand, face down, the sun beating like a fiery hammer onto my back. It didn't take me long to realize that I was naked and tied down again, this time in the full glare of the sun. I'd seen this once, in an old John Wayne movie about Indians. Next the victim would be covered with molasses and left for the ants and the vultures. Good, I thought. I will be better than what this maniac could do to me!
Billy was on his knees beside me. His cock was still hanging from his pants. He hadn't bothered putting it away after that interrupted piss.
"I'm disappointed, Karen," he said, and his voice was sincere as hell. "You were very bad. Why do you want to run away from me? Don't you know how much I love you?"
"If you loved me," I snapped, "you would get the fuck out of my life and stay out of it! I didn't ask you to leech onto me. I don't want you. I don't ever want to be around you, or to see you, or even to know that you're still alive. Can you get that through your stupid goddamned head, Billy Bissonette? Or did your bastard brains all leak out through those cuts in your wrists? I-" I didn't say anything else. I didn't have a chance. While I spoke, he rose to his feet and shook his head sadly. He took the belt from his pants. I couldn't crane my neck around far enough to see what he was doing, but suddenly I could feel, and that was when I stopped talking, pleading with him, cursing him. The belt slammed down hard, onto the naked cheeks of my ass. I screamed.
He hit me again. And again.
"I'm going to make you want me, Karen," he shouted. "I'm going to make you!"
He kept hitting me with the belt, striking my ass again and again, each crack of leather as loud as a gunshot when it struck my flesh. Each stroke made me scream, and scream again, and I lunged about on the sand. The stakes to which I had been tied were driven solidly into the ground and they didn't yield.
"Helpppp!!!" I screeched at the top of my lungs, but no one was listening, no one except Billy Bissonette, and he kept whipping my ass with his belt.
My throat was raw. My ass stung as if I'd fallen into a colony of bees. Each time he slapped me with the belt my ass jerked. It almost felt as if I were lunging up to meet the stroke that I knew would follow the one I'd just received. My asscheeks shook and wiggled, but I had almost no power to move.
Had any woman ever been in so helpless a position as I was now? Had any woman ever been so much at the mercy of a lunatic?
"Billy, no," I whimpered, but I could hardly speak from the pain of my bruised asscheeks.
The pain didn't stop. He kept hitting me, each stroke harder than the one he'd just given me. I groveled in the sand, trying to make my body burrow into the gritty stuff, bury myself completely, out of the range of his makeshift whip.
"No," I said again, "oh, no, no, no, no!"
And then it stopped, without warning.
I saw the belt fall to the ground, no more than a foot past my face, and then he was kneeling, touching me. He put his hands-God, they were so gentle!-on my ass which he had been whipping just a moment ago. He started to massage me with an almost maternal tenderness. When he spoke, his voice was cracked, on the verge of a sob.
"I'm sorry, Karen," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry!"
And, my God, he leaned down and began to kiss the welts he'd beaten onto my ass! I felt his lips and tongue slide across my abused flesh. I felt the warm dribble of saliva from his mouth, and he was working it into my wounds with his tongue. He smacked his lips as he kissed me, purring against my skin. My head began to grow cold and my guts felt as if they were turning upside down.
"So pretty," he whispered, "and I made it hurt. I'm the one who should be whipped." Little smacks punctuated his sentenced, interrupting his words. His tongue slithering across my asscheeks, into the crack of my ass. His hands caressed me with a gentleness that I found absolutely incredible after the savagery he'd just used on me.
I said, "Billy, please, no," but I didn't speak very loudly, and I don't think he was listening in the first place.
He had his cheek against my ass now, and he was stroking my asscheeks and my upper thighs. His fingers eased into my crotch now and then. Not a studied gesture, probably not even a conscious one. Just little touched as his fingers brushed the hairy thatch of my cunt. My cuntlips tingled when he bumped them, and I moaned into the sand beneath my face.
"Stop it," I told him. "I want you to stop."
Dear Jesus, what was happening inside me? It was my body, the one I'd lived in all my life, but I felt a stranger to myself. My legs began to twitch a little, and my cunt had the strangest sensation as he continued to touch it so lightly, so casually. There was still that burning, welted pain on my ass, but it wasn't the center of my attention any longer. Billy's fingertip poked at the cleft of my cunt and then k was inside me-just the very end of his finger, but enough for me to know that something was between the lips of my cunt. I moaned into the sand, "Noooooo-ooooo... " But that was not what I really meant.
"Let me make it up to you, Karen," I heard him say, and there was a soft rustling sound. I couldn't bend around far enough with my head to see what that sound might be, but something inside me told me that it was the fall of his pants. Then he was between my spraddled legs from the rear. His thighs were bare where they touched mine, and the stiff end of his long cock tapped me three or four times on my blistered, abused ass.
"Not that," I told him. "Anything but that Billy, anything... " He didn't answer. He must have been holding his cock now, for it moved across my bruised ass with a sense of direction, of guidance. He touched each of the raw welts he'd raised on my ass skin, each of the welts he had lolled his tongue and lips across so-affectionately? Was that the word? My God!-and then he pushed the tip of his cock into my crotch, nuzzling my cunt from behind. I squirmed, gasped, and couldn't stop gasping as he kept on tickling me with the end of his pecker, making it jiggle back and forth over my cunt slit, the very point of his cock pushing me, teasing me with the promise of still another painful, agonizing rape.
"Don't fuck me," I whispered. 'Please don't fuck me. I hurt. I hurt all over. You hurt me, Billy."
"I won't hurt you now," he promised in soft coaxing tones, and he put his hands on my ass. I winced, for it did hurt, as his rough palms pressed down upon the welts his belt had raised. I felt a sob wedge in my throat. Then he pushed his cock and it slipped into me and he leaned forward.
I whined, for I was dry inside, but he didn't stop fucking. He thrust deep and his cock knob banged my cervix. His palms squeezed on my battered ass, and then-oh, my God, I don't know if I can find the words to tell you what happened then!
My cunt got wet. I could feel the juice oozing through the mucus-lined walls of my cunt, and I couldn't make them stop. Each time his fingers teased the painful flesh of my asscheeks. It seemed a little more cream seeped from me. His cock began to penetrate me in squishes that got louder and louder, as if he were walking through a mucky swamp.
"No, God, no," I panted as he began to work his ass, spreading the cheeks until the flesh screamed in agony. The screams would no longer burst from my lips the way they had. I was panting and gasping, but I wasn't screaming now, no, it was something else altogether, something I had never felt before. Something scared the shit out of me while it was happening. I said, "Ohhhhhh" in a startled, unbelieving voice. I clenched my bound fists. I wanted to beat them against the ground but they were tied too near the wooden pegs that fastened me to the earth.
He pushed in a little further, then withdrew, and he gave it to me again. This time my cunt was a sucking maw that snapped like a hungry bitch at the slender, long piece of cock lie was feeding me.
"Please stop," I murmured, but my lips were pressed against the sand and I could hardly hear myself.
I don't suppose he heard me either, because he didn't stop. He pushed his cock in, deep, jerked it back, then shoved even deeper, harder. I felt that long cockshaft burrow into my guts, but there was none of the agony I'd known the first time he raped me. My cunt dripped from the inside out and he fucked into me quickly, easily. The on-off pressure on my abused ass felt wonderful. When he squeezed the sting made tears well in my eyes, but when he wasn't squeezing my heart pumped madly and I found myself wishing-Jesus, was this really me?-wishing that he would squeeze me just once more and send those currents of pain through my body. It reminded me that he had ravished me and made me squat like an animal to piss. It reminded me that he had used his belt to flog me, beat me, and assault not only my cunt but my very soul.
"I can feel it, Karen," he said exultantly, gripping my tender asscheeks and thrusting his cock into me so deeply I imagined I could feel it shoving up my throat from the underside.
"I can feel our medicine starting to come together," he said. "Can't you feel it too? Grandfather said that shared medicine was the best kind. Oh, Karen, we're going to do it, we're going to make ourselves part of the great spirit, you and me. Let ourselves be swallowed up in the wholeness of things! I know it! I can feel it!"
He began to fuck faster, his slender cock frictioning the lips of my cunt.
"What are you doing to me?" I asked my cunt. It didn't answer. It just kept oozing juice around the cock that was ravishing its treacherous hole.
My ass jerked upward, the way it had done while he was beating me, and I knew what my cunt was doing to his cock. I was eating him with my twat, whether I wanted to or not. He'd pinch my asscheeks and I'd squeal and jerk. He would go" into me, deep, hard, fast, and pull out to give me a second taste while my ass was still uplifted. He was fucking parts of my pussy that had never before known the feel of a stiff cock. I felt every inch of his foot-long tool thrust up me, stuffing me, piercing me where I lived. I began to tremble and shake as I lay strapped to the ground.
The sun was merciless on the back of my head, and I could feel a throbbing in my skull, but it wasn't half so intense as the throbbing in my cunt while Billy Bissonette fucked me.
What have I turned into? I asked myself despairingly. There was a churning in my guts and I know-God, Jesus, I knew so well what that signified!
My ass twitched from side to side now. My hands and legs were immobile, but my hips had a little room to wiggle and, God help me, they were wiggling like crazy! Billy kept feeding his prick into me, and he kept moving his hands unpredictably on my bruised asscheeks. Fires were blazing inside my skull and in my belly. It was the last thing I had ever expected would happen, but it was happening and I was powerless to prevent it.
My clit scraped the sand when I was down, and when I was up, Billy would reach under me and squeeze at the upper part of my cunt crushing my labes together against my erected clit.
Erected? God, was it ever erected! I could feel the pulsating throb of my risen clitoris, and when his fingers touched it, my cunt oozed juices like a river overflowing its banks. His cock was deepest in me when he touched me there. I could feel my cummy ooze bathe the buried length of his cock rod while he pressed insistently against the tip of my womb. And again, that treacherous opening seemed to be stretching itself gluttonously, sucking at the wiggly knob of Billy's prick shaft, inviting it to bury itself fully in my guts and completely degrade me.
When it hit me, there was no way I could stop. No possible way I could make it not happen. His hands were tight on my welted ass and his cock snaked in and out of me. Ram, ram, ram. It jolted me so hard my teeth felt as if they were going to loose in my jaws. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, could do nothing except lie there and shiver and shake and shudder. My tits were hard against the gritty sand, and my nipples had made little dimples in the dirt beneath me. I felt as if they were being massaged in sandpaper.
"No," I said, "Noooooooooo!!! Not thisssss!!!" And I came.
God, sweet God, how I came! My cunt bucked back, meeting the inward thrusts of his cock, and my cunt contracted and rippled up and down the incredibly long barrel of his dong. He held me tightly and my ass felt wet, as if some of those blisters had broken and the watery fluid was running across my skin. His fingers didn't let go their hold on my raw, beaten flesh. His cock thrust into me more times than I could count, and I panted and groaned and sobbed into the sand, eating dirt, mingling my tears with the earth on which I lay. My lower body shook tumultuously. And through it all, that cock, stiffer than God had ever meant a cock to be, rammed harder into me than a woman's cunt was supposed to be fucked. Each stroke sent me mewing and warbling a step higher, and another step, and still another, until I was flying, bound down as I was. My body was totally out of my control.
"Oh, God, fuck me," I gurgled, "fuck me fuck me fuck meeeeeee!!! I'm commmmminnnnnggggg!!!"
And I was coming so hard, so uncontrollably, so shamefully! I had been kidnapped, raped, beaten, and raped again, and God only knew what might happen to me in the time ahead, but I was coming now and I couldn't stop and my cunt sucked and gulped at his invading cock and I bathed him in the hot sticky juice of my orgasm.
He gripped my ass tightly, so tightly it made me scream in a choked voice. His callused fingers were like leather scraping the bruises his belt had given me. Then his cock jabbed hard, deep, all the way to the mouth of my womb, and I felt him begin to jerk inside me, and I knew that he was coming too. His juices squirted mingling with mine. My snatch was full of jizz-Billy's and mine. I could not have sunk any lower if I'd put on an aqualung and I knew it, even in the false elation of my orgasmic seizure.
"God, God, God," I moaned, groveling in the dirt while he continued to pump his scum up my cunt. The sun came down on me like the heat from a blast furnace, and it seemed like the breath of hell. Hell was where I belonged, me and my weak, faithless soul. If will alone could kill, I'd have been dead from wishing it.
CHAPTER SIX
It had happened, and there was no way I could undo it. Billy collapsed upon my back, and it was agony where his body lay upon my bruised, raw ass, but his cock was still in me and it kept shaking, spurting the final drops of his cum.
Under him, lay yours truly, Karen Barta Mason, moaning, shivering, gasping for air as my own orgasm shuddered to a halt.
"Oh, my God," I said, "what did you do to me, you son of a bitch? Get off me! Get off me this minute!"
"Karen!" he yelled, and the heaviness of him on me went away. I sighed and I stretched where I was tied down.
"I hate you," I said. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
It was like a child's litany of anger, but it was the only thing I could say. I closed my eyes and sobbed, but I could not find a single tear inside me to spill out.
Billy walked around, and he squatted in front of me. I sensed his presence but I refused to look at him. I had to keep some of my dignity. God knew I had so little left!
He grabbed my long hair and he jerked upward. I made a whining sound, and my eyes opened reluctantly. He was on his knees before me, and his cock was coated in white cum.
His hard-on was just starting to go down. He leaned toward me then and began to wipe the surplus cum onto my face.
"Goddamn you," I sputtered, "oh, goddamn you!"
"You still haven't made your mind up, have you, Karen?" he said in a tight, angry voice.
I shook my head and I made a scowling face at him. He coughed, and then he grabbed his softening cock. Rocking back on his heels, he aimed his pecker at my face and he began-sweet God-he began to piss right into my face!
"Gggggggggg!!!" I stammered as the pungent yellow spray started to splatter me, but I couldn't turn my head away, not with Billy holding me so tightly by the hair. He pissed himself dry, shaking his cock when he was done. The last few drops sprinkled me to complete the odious act of degradation. I stank of his smelly urine. It was on my face, in my hair, on the ground beneath my chin, too. That was when my tears started to flow, and I didn't think they'd ever stop.
He let go of my hair and my chin fell onto the ground, right into the wetted sand. It was possibly the most horrible moment since he had invaded my life on my wedding night and carried me off as a slave to his lusts. When I breathed, I breathed in the smell of piss. My face was soaked, and the stuff began to run from under my hair, down my forehead, into my eyes. It made them sting, and I blinked, trying to get the awful stuff out. Piss mixed with my tears and I couldn't be sure which was which. I wanted to die.
He cupped my chin then, and he lifted my face up with the kind of gentleness I had almost forgotten could even exist. I raised my eyes slowly and he looked down at me. He bore the expression of a child who had just been whipped savagely, unfairly.
"I'm sorry," he said in a voice hardly more than a whisper. "I didn't want to do that. But something made me do it. Please say you'll forgive me, Karen. Please say it."
I couldn't say it, but I don't think he noticed. His eyes brightened, and he began to pet my hair, which was wet and smelly from his urine.
"It's going to be better, Karen," he promised. "I'm going to make it just as good for me and you as it was with... with him! You'll see! Now let me get you untied, oh, if you just would be nice to me, the way you used to be nice, I wouldn't have to tie you up! But I can't lose you again, Karen. I wouldn't want to live if I lost you again."
He untied me and helped me rise. My feet were numb and he carried me back into the cabin. The staleness of the air inside was even more noticeable, but so was the stench surrounding my pissed-on face and head. And I couldn't keep from recalling how my body had suddenly erupted during that horrid rape while I was facedown, helpless. Some of me felt familiar but other parts of me felt as if they belonged to someone else.
"I'm going to tie you up again," he said earnestly, "but it's not because I don't love you, Karen. I just have to go get some things-some things we need-and I want to make sure you're here when I get back. It'll be better and better. You'll see!"
"Now just lie down on the bed again, and let me slip this rope around your hand. Does it hurt? Too tight? I'll be back as soon as I can. I wish I had a transistor radio or something, so you could at least listen to some music. I don't, so I'll hurry back as soon as I can. I promise."
He finished tying me down, then put his hand into his pocket and, smiling smugly, brought out a key ring. No wonder I hadn't found them when I tried that futile escape. No wonder I'd gotten raped instead of escaping.
But hadn't he been raping me all along, using his weakness as a gambit to get at me? Or had I been the one who really started it, back in the hospital? I felt a gnawing sense of guilt and responsibility as I lay on the dirty mattress, securely bound hand and foot. I couldn't decide how deeply I should be feeling the guilt.
Time dragged by, and I couldn't guess how long he was gone. It might have been all afternoon. It might have been forty-five minutes. He ambled into the cabin carrying a large grocery box. I supposed he had replenished the larder so we could fuck on a full stomach, so to speak. He put down the box, then came to untie me.
As before, he held the wrist ropes while I stood on wobbly feet, regaining my equilibrium.
"I brought some water," he advised me, pointing to the truck, which had a large steel drum standing upright in the back. "You can clean up," he went on. "I guess you'd like to take a bath or something. It'll have to be in cold water, but I brought some soap and all kinds of stuff I thought you might want. Stuff to make you beautiful just for me, Karen."
Shit, just for you, I thought, but I knew better than to say it.
The bath was an experience. He had a galvanized tub and he filled it with cold water, setting it in the open so the sun would warm my bath for me. While he watched, I stepped into the tub. It wasn't as cold as I had feared, and I settled into the water. I felt a sensation that was almost like pleasure shoot through my body.
Billy squatted by the tub, watching me intently as I bathed. He handed me soap when I asked for it. He'd brought shampoo and creme rinse, so I washed my hair too, and I was finally free of piss-stench. My body felt cleaner and my soul felt lighter, until I got one good flash of his dark eyes. They were eating me, devouring my sudsy body as I began to rinse myself clean. I shivered.
I stood up. He was holding a towel. He began to dry me, his hands moving the towel softly, caressingly, over my body. It was so unlike the brutality he'd exhibited last night and earlier today.
Could the hands that smoothed me dry really be the same hands that had slapped me unconscious, that had staked me out in the sun, that had ravaged my body along with his long stiff cock?
"You'll get sand on your feet," he warned as I started out of the tub, clean and feeling a little better. I stopped, and he slipped a rubber sandal onto one foot, then the other. He wrapped the towel around my shoulders, took me by one hand, and led me toward the shack again.
"It's going to be better this time, Karen," he promised.
The sun was warm, but I felt a mild chill. I was scared. This sweet doting Billy frightened me almost as much as the cruel savage rapist who had abducted me in the first place.
"Look in the box," he said, standing in the doorway as I entered the cabin. I leaned over, hardly conscious at all of my nudity now. I saw that the box contained some cans of food, an extra cylinder of propane gas for the camp stove, and a couple bottles of fruit juice. There was also one large sack inside, and I picked it up. In it were gifts that I knew he'd brought for me.
Bra, panties, a pair of cheap nylons, toiletries-perfume, body lotion, lipstick, mascara. I took them out one by one.
The bra was a C-cup, but only a 34, too small for me. I wouldn't have used the perfume under any provocation. While I was looking at them, Billy came up behind me. He put his hands around me, cupped my tits and squeezed until my nipples were stiff between his fingers. He brushed aside my damp hair and began to kiss my ear and neck.
"Why don't you get ready?" he asked. We'll have a real wedding, just the way it should have been."
"What?" I asked.
He pointed to my wedding gown, which lay on the floor. I understood what he wanted now, and I felt sick inside. He wanted me to dress up, to spruce myself and put on my wedding dress and then-oh, God-he was going to do it to me! Again!
"I got these at the store, down at the agency," he told me. "I hope they're all okay. I didn't really know what to look for."
He was so naive and almost innocent. His eyes were full of glee and expectation. But those eyes could darken in a moment, and his gentle hands could turn into instruments of brutal power. There would be no other victim but me. I gulped, took the bra out of its package. It was a white, old-fashioned, cotton push-up. I don't like that style, but I didn't have any choice.
I hooked it around my belly, then pulled it up, eased my tits into the small, tight cups, panting. When I'd put on the panties, he turned me around, and his eyes devoured me.
My tits, large and tanned, spilled out of the undersized bra. The small white panties didn't quite capture all my cunt hair. Some of it leaked out at the edges of the crotchpiece.
"You're beautiful," he said. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And I know that our medicine is going to work together, Karen, and it will make both of us strong and beautiful, and together. That's what we have to be, together, you and me."
He picked up the perfume and sprayed it onto me, some in my hair, some on the exposed cleavage of my tits, some of it lower down my belly, and around the tops of my thighs. It was cheap, and it didn't smell very good. It reminded me of tank-town bars on Saturday nights, men in cowboy suits and women with tight pants and beehive hair. I didn't like it, but I didn't have much choice.
"Put on your dress, too," he said. "I'm sorry I don't have a suit, but we'll pretend that I'm wearing one, okay, Karen?"
I nodded, tight-lipped. I bent over to pick up the white dress. It was dusty and not at all the way it had been yesterday when I wore it to marry Chad Mason. As I leaned over, Billy touched my ass and thigh. His fingers slipped through to my crotch. I moaned, and he pressed harder. My cunt hurt. It had been savagely fucked twice and the lips were raw. Or was it the hurting that I felt? Did my clitoris give a tell-tale, treacherous throb at the caress of his fingers? I wasn't sure. Sighing, I began to put on the dress while he watched.
"The lipstick," he reminded me. "It's bright and red. I like bright red. It makes your mouth look so inviting and sexy.".
I couldn't believe any of this was happening, not even when he uncapped the tube of lipstick and began to dab it onto my mouth. Sighing, I took it and finished the job as best I could without a mirror. I smacked my lips to even the gloss, and when I looked at him he was licking his lips with an almost vulturish gleam of anticipation in his eyes.
"You're even more beautiful than I thought you could be," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders. He leaned in to kiss me, and I steeled myself for it. His groin touched me and I felt the sudden surge of his cock inside the jeans he wore. Oh, God, I thought, it's going to happen again.
"Do for me the way you did for him," Billy whispered, pushing me down.
I shook my head, but his hands were so strong. I went onto my knees on the dusty floor and he held me by the head, rubbing his crotch back and forth across my face. He hummed softly as his pecker stiffened inside his pants.
"Take it out," he told me. "Take it out and suck it. Suck . it a long time, Karen. Suck it until I come. And then we'll fuck, and it will be us, not you and him. You and me, Karen. Just you and me."
"No, I won't," I said, summoning up all my courage. "I won't suck your goddamned cock and I won't let you fuck me-not unless you knock me out first. I'm not gonna play your bullshit games any longer. You're sick, Billy, and you need help. You should be back in that hospital where they know how to take care of people like you, not loose, interfering with other peoples' lives. I won't do anything!"
God, why did I say that? I knew what it would do to him! I knew that he was living in some kind of fucked-up fantasy world. I was taking my life in my hands by resisting. He'd rape me again, sure as anything. But my cunt began to tingle inside the slightly tight bikini pants he'd made me put on, and I wondered if it was only because the nylon hugged my cunt bun so snugly.
I didn't want to consider any other possibility! I just kept shaking my head, hoping to- clear the doubt and uncertainty from my mind.
He made a snorting sound, like a bull, and he pushed my head back. He slapped me savagely across the face, back and forth. He gave me six distinct slaps and each of them cracked like a gunshot. My lip tore and I could taste blood on the cheap lipstick he'd forced onto me. It was salty blood, bitter blood, my blood. My tongue sampled it, and I felt a kind of revulsion. But my cheeks tingled with a sudden, heated flush, and my cunt was on fire in those tight underpants. I squirmed and settled down onto the floor just a little more and my thighs closed tightly around my cunt. The fires didn't go out.
He unzipped himself, grabbed my hand and forced my hand to enter his undone pants. I felt his cock there, stiff and long. It was so long I wondered how there could possibly be room for such a hard-on in the pants he was wearing.
"Take it out," he told me. "Take it out and suck it! You sucked his! I watched you! Now you're going to suck mine!"
Slowly, shakily, I pulled his cock into the open. It was a lancing hard-on, the foreskin eased back from the smallish grape-like knob. His cock pointed upward at a slight tilt. I panted, staring at him.
He pushed his cock downward, bending his stiffness toward my face. He touched my eyelid, slid the end of his cock down one side of my nose, onto my upper lip. I could smell the hot meaty arousal of him. God, I couldn't do it! I couldn't! I wouldn't! My lips began to flutter, and then they were opening, my God, opening into a red-painted "O" and I heard him sigh, the last thing I heard before he thrust his cock into my mouth and my lips snugged tight around him!
"That's it, Karen," he said, huskily, brushing my hair back so he could see my face and see my mouth. "Now you suck, the way you used to suck me in the hospital, and I'll just fuck your sweet wet little mouth the way you let me fuck your tight hot pussy." He didn't say any more. He put one hand on the top of my head, keeping me bent back, back at such an angle my neck soon began to ache and throb, and he started to work his cock into my mouth.
He pushed until I started to gag and I could feel my ears stopping up. My eyeballs bulged as if they were going to pop out of their sockets.
"Nnnnnnnnn!!!" I sang around his tool, but the act of protesting vocally seemed to open my throat and he thrust, thrust with a gasp and a moan. He pushed harder on my head till I was bent back at almost a 90 degree angle from my neck and I swear to God and all the saints that the head of his cock was in my throat and pushed deeper with each nervous swallow that rippled down my gullet.
I was going to die! For the first time in this whole, awful experience I thought that I was going to die! Strangled on that long slender cock of his! It didn't fill my mouth the way Chad's fatter cock did, but he was obviously determined to impale me on his avenging prick. I knew how an inexperienced sword swallower at the circus must feel the day something goes wrong with his inadequately rehearsed trick.
No one had ever complained about the way I sucked a cock. I didn't deep-throat, but how many women really can do that? Linda Lovelace isn't the average girl-next-door, for Chrissake! And now I was being raped in the mouth, forcibly deep-throated by the longest cock God had ever put on anything this side of a jackass. I felt my guts starting to lift, to rise up through my stomach and internal passages, into the throat that was being ravished by the end of Billy's dong.
I couldn't even gasp now-I couldn't breathe! My head swam for lack of oxygen and all I could do was make hacking sounds while my body went numb. His hands on me were the only physical support I had. I closed my eyes and waited for death to overtake me.
He let me fall back a little further. He moved with me, still buried in my mouth. My head sank a little more toward the floor, and then, suddenly, without warning, something happened inside me.
The impulse to gag and barf was there one moment, and the next moment it was gone. I was lying on the floor now. My head was thrown back as far as it could go. Billy squatted over me, leaning forward as he thrust his cock down, down, down, into my mouth. I sucked it, sucking with my lips and my cheeks. God help me, I sucked with the movable portions of my throat as well! I was doing it! I was really doing it! I felt as if I had swallowed an apple, whole, and couldn't get it down or bring it back up. Somehow, somewhere, air seeped down my throat too, around that enormous cock. My head was no longer fluttering and weak. I was aware, vividly aware, of everything that was going on, in me, around me.
"Karen!" he moaned, making his cock jiggle in me. My tongue raced around it, whirling and gliding, licking as much of him as I could reach. I made my throat contract and open around his cock. I felt him throb and swell, gigantic in the tight confines of my throat. I almost swooned, knowing that his ecstasy couldn't be far away now. Soon, oh, God, soon, he would fill my mouth with his cum. And then what? Then what?
He worked his cock in and out of my mouth. I could see the cheap red lipstick smeared around his cock barrel where I'd clutched at him with my lips. Clutched at him? Sweet God! Was I-was I cooperating? I couldn't believe it, but...
His cock rammed into me, as deeply as it had gone before. The tabs of his zipper scraped my mouth. Oh, sweet Christ, he was in me deep now, really deep, and if he'd not been wearing his pants, I'd be kissing his nuts while I throated the end of his cock. How could I respond this way to him? How could I suck the cock that was raping my mouth? How could I suck the way I was sucking on Billy, teasing, milking his cock with my fluttering lips, oozing my saliva over and over the invading barrel of his cockshaft? And even more importantly, why did I feel that tremendous uneasiness between my legs, as if my cunt were itching and I had nothing with which to scratch it? Nothing except the thighs that moved together and together and together upon the cunt bun that seemed to have engorged enormously inside the plain, but God, so tight, white panties Billy had given me. For this-this parody of what he'd seen me and Chad doing last night while he lurked in our bedroom, spying, peeping!
I lifted one arm, and he must have thought I was going to hit him or claw at him. He caught me by the wrist and he squeezed.
"Aaaaaahhhhh!!" I moaned around his cock, and I fought to get my hand free. Relaxing the pressure slowly, he let go. My hand slid onto his stomach. I felt the smooth hard texture of his flat belly. I stroked him as I sucked, and I felt his abdominal muscles ripple softly. He purred in delight, and his cock sank deeper still into my throat. It was deeper than a cock had any right to go in a woman's mouth, but it was there and I was sucking it.
I found the waistband of his pants. I fumbled till I reached the button and undid them. He hadn't put his belt back on after beating me with it out in the sun. I opened his pants easily. My hand sank lower and I touched the base of his cock, and then I reached with both hands and pulled down his trousers. I looked at the whole of his crotch. He thrust at me with his cock and I thrust back at him with my mouth.
Yes, it was true. My lips could touch-only just touch-the tight flesh of his nut-sac. I felt my lower Up brush him there, and his balls felt huge against my skin. They were encased so tightly in that clutching bag of his ball-sac. A throb raced through me from my head to my feet. Jesus, why did it linger such a long time in the region of my twitching cunt? And why did the crotch of those tight new panties feel so damp against my cunt?
"I don't believe it, Karen," he panted, riding down into me again. "You're sucking all of me! All of my cock is in your mouth!"
No, I thought, not quite all. And as he husked out the words, I lunged up, and there, yes, it was! My lips pressed the base of his cock. The scanty few hairs that grew around the root of his tool were tickling my mouth. When I drew back, gasping around the pecker that filled me, I could see a ring of that cheap bright red lipstick smeared around the very base of Billy's cock. It was proof positive of the astounding achievement I had just scored.
Achievement? Sweet God! Was that what you called it when you almost strangled yourself, fully swallowing the twelve-inch cock of the man who had brained your husband, beaten you senseless, abducted you, and raped your helpless body so many times you'd lost count? Was that the word for it? Achievement? I began to feel sick.
But I didn't stop sucking. I couldn't stop. My brain said one thing, but every nerve, every muscle in my body told me something else. I was excited. I shivered with excitement. My panties were sopping wet with excitement. My pussy lips itched unbearably and my legs twitched on the floor. My hands stroked up and down his lower belly and upper thighs, reaching around now and then to stroke and caress the hard flat planes of his ass.
I looked up. He toyed with my hair and I saw the little white scar on his wrist. Yes, the scar. If it hadn't been for that, I wouldn't be here now. And if I hadn't taken a late lunch one day because I spent a little too much time in Billy's room, trying to be kind and considerate to him as no one else had ever been-well, I wouldn't have been in the cafeteria for Chad Mason to spill orange juice on, either. Life was like a giant river, fed by hundreds, thousands, of tiny streams. If one of those streams dried up or was diverted, the river might flow on, but it wouldn't be the same river. At least partly because of Billy I had met Chad at the right time, the right place. And then the Bill-stream had diverted itself, back into the river that was my life. I was sucking like a wolf as a result.
I lost count of how many times his cock throbbed and swelled inside my mouth. I readied myself for the flow of cum that somehow didn't gush from him as I'd expected.
God, in the hospital, it had rarely taken more than a few jerks on his cock to get him off. But he was a virgin then, a virgin experiencing his first taste of lovemaking. That must have been how he regarded it and his excitement probably ruled his glands. It was something more now. For almost a year he had been nursing his passion for me, and I could sense, could almost taste that he had gone beyond the virginal plane. He'd mentioned a woman at the mental hospital, probably a nymphomaniac locked away for her own safety. What had she been to him? Someone to practice on? Someone who could help him hone his sexual skills for the day when he would return to me?
He grabbed my head, and he thrust with savagery, like an Apache warrior plunging a knife into his enemy's body. But it wasn't a knife, it was his cock. I don't think he regarded me as an enemy. I opened my throat as widely as I could. I felt him begin to squirt and gush, deep down my gullet. It was a seemingly endless flow of cum that oozed hotly down my throat and through my trembling body. Its path ended at the pit of my belly where it lay warm and viscous and heavy. I don't know how many times he came, or how many separate squirts his cock made into me. I just kept gulping as he shot out his cum. Only when his cock went slimy-soft in my mouth and began to retract did I actually breathe again. It may have been a world's record, but I didn't have a stopwatch and I wasn't counting seconds.
Limp, his cock was no more than nine or ten inches long. Which is, I suppose, a hell of a cock when you consider it against average length. But it seemed tiny, a mere infant. I watched it slither from my lips, wet, sticky with cum, curling like a snake as it broke free of me and hung limply from his groin.
"Did you like that, Karen? Was it as good as-you know, that time with him?"
I didn't answer. A bubble of cum had rolled over the tip of his drooping cock and began to drip downward. It hung from him in a string which grew longer and longer, almost touching the bodice of my gown. Moaning, I grabbed his cock, tipped it upward, and shook it vigorously. That hanging trail of cum flailed across my face like a wet sticky whip. My tongue whipped the end of Billy's cock. Gulping, I sucked up and down the outer surface of his prick until I had cleaned away the milky stickiness. It tasted almost minty in my mouth, and even as I cleansed him, I could feel the throb, the surges of power, begin to return to him. His cock felt thicker in my hand, and not so flexible. I squeezed, and he grew harder still. My heart didn't know whether to stop beating altogether or to race with maddened pulsating excitement.
I held him as he fattened, my lips pressed to the point of his burgeoning cock, and I kissed him, pushing back the foreskin so my lips could brush and caress the full glory of his little grape-like cockhead. Then he was rigid, and thrust his cock out. I didn't have to hold back any longer. His cock retracted of its own will and his renewed hard-on touched my mouth, ready-but for what? I looked up at his face, and I couldn't help but wonder about myself, too.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He rose from where he'd been straddling me. I lay on the floor, hardly breathing, watching as he removed his pants and shirt. His body was more bronzed than it had been in the hospital. He'd gotten some sun on his skin, and it looked good. It gave him a healthy glow. There was a certain tawny majesty about his smooth flesh. He didn't look quite so skinny now, either. His hair was shorter, too, but he looked more Indian than ever. His cock, fully erect, was like a spear or lance, fit to be carried into battle by some feathered warrior on horseback.
My heart began to race. When he reached down for me, I lifted my hand. Our fingers interlocked and I rose to my feet too, and stood there in my dusty bridal gown. I faced him where he stood naked and hard and ready. The glimmer of lust was obvious in his dark eyes, in the curling smile of his lips.
He put his hands on my tits, and he cupped them gently, with the lightest of pressure. He came a step closer, almost near enough to kiss me. He didn't lean in, only stared at me, intently...
I wiped my mouth.
"That was disgusting," I told him. "The most disgusting thing I've experienced. You raped me again, Billy, in the most degrading, filthy manner possible. I'll never forgive you for it. And if you think I'm going to let you do anything else to me, if you think for a moment-" He grabbed the bodice of my white gown and he ripped it savagely, tearing it to shreds. I shrieked, raised my hands in a vain attempt to cover myself. He knocked my hands out of the way, grabbing my bra. The damned thing was tight to begin with and my tits were half pushed out of it.
His nails scraped across my soft tits and I moaned. I chewed my hp as he wrestled with the reluctant bra. My teeth must have opened the little wound he'd made when he slapped me, for I tasted my blood again. It seemed to spurt through the reopened wound, but it didn't taste bitter now-it was hotter blood, pungent blood.
My hp flicked across it greedily, as if I were sipping sweet wine from a crystal glass.
"You're not man enough to do it," I taunted, still licking my lips. "You think you are, Billy, but you're not. Really you're not."
God, what devil was inside me? I could hardly stand, my cunt itched so much, and I knew-damn me-I knew that I wanted him to strip me and throw me on the bed and fuck me silly! But I didn't want it to be a love-fuck! No! It could never be a love fuck. It would be something different, so much different. My heart pounded madly. I didn't know but I had to find out.
"You're a coward," I said. "A pathetic sniveling coward. You're-" That was when he hit me.
"Goddamn it, Karen!" he yelled, and his voice sounded so sad. "I don't want to do it this way!"
"It's the only way you'll ever make me have anything to do with you," I said, my head still numb from his blow.
He grabbed the bra again, and he tore it. I thought my tits were being ripped off in the process. I screamed as the elastic yielded, then snapped, and the bra came away in his hands, and my 38-C's shook and jiggled, their nipples blood red and standing out like fire hydrants.
"Damn you," I said. "Damn you for a coward and a pervert and a-" Again his hand smashed across my mouth. The wound on my lip got bigger, and blood began to pump from it. I licked the blood, eyeing him through narrowed slits, and my arms went slack. He ripped at my gown again. He finished tearing the upper half of it and the ruined wedding dress fell in a heap at my feet. I stood there wearing only my panties now. They were wet, glued to the pulsating dampness of my aroused cunt. While he watched, I reached down and touched myself between the legs.
"You can't have this," I told him. "You can never have it. Not unless you're man enough to fight for it."
He grabbed me, threw me onto the bed. Dust rose in a thick cloud as I hit the stale-smelling mattress. My legs hung over the edge of the bed. He had his hands on my ass, grabbing the pants, pulling them down in one quick jerk that stripped me, leaving me open and vulnerable.
My heart raced faster, faster and faster. I clutched the dirty mattress. The bed creaked under me, like a factory in operation. Some of the creaking was due to the way my body shook and trembled as I lay there face down, my legs parted, my pussy open, exposed and totally available to him.
"No," I moaned, "you can't, I won't let you."
Even as I spoke the words I knew that they were a lie, that he could anything he wanted, that he would do anything he wanted. And-God help me-I wasn't putting up the slightest resistance.
Not even when he leaned against me and pressed the tip of his cock against my sloppy fuck hole. He couldn't have mistaken the wetness that oozed from me. The very touch of his cock against my flesh almost sucked him into my twat. My back arched up and I moaned, and then he started to slap my asscheeks while his cock toyed with the entrance to my cunt.
He cuffed first one buttock, then the other, spanking me as I hadn't been spanked in all my life. I moaned, I wailed, but with each gasping cry that left my mouth, there was a matching exhalation of wet juice from the lips of my pussy. The tip of his rod grew greasier and greasier, pressing against me.
"Is this how you want it?" he yelled, driving into me with all his power, all his lust, all his passion.
His cock entered me fully, and I screamed. It was the culmination of all that awful, frightening desire I had felt while I was sucking his meat. I'd climaxed while he was fucking me out in the sun, staked down beside the truck. I had climaxed like a bitch in heat, but it was nothing to the way I came now.
My guts heaved, my head swam, my cunt squeezed like a nutcracker around his thrusting cock. My clit was on fire and my cuntlips had swollen incredibly. Every muscle in my body was directed there, guiding my pussylips, making them clench and clutch and suck at the cock he fed me.
"Do it, goddamn you," I moaned. "If you're going to fuck a woman, fuck her! Don't stand there jerking off!
Fuck me! Fuck me, goddamn you, fuck meeeeeee!!"
He grabbed my ass, which bucked up and down in uncontrollable excitement. He held on as he fucked. His knees braced on the edge of the bed as he screwed me. I was a bitch and he was a stud and my hungry cunt gobbled up every inch, every thrust, every savage stab of the servicing he gave me. I had never been so ready for a fucking in my life. Not even when Chad and I came home from the reception and prepared ourselves for our first Mr. and Mrs. fuck. I knew that I was lost, totally lost, sunk in the mud and the mire and the shit, but I couldn't help myself. I was coming and nothing short of death would make me stop coming.
What? Why? How?
My mouth still ached from the angry blows he'd given me. My tits were sore from the mauling of his fingers. My ass stung where he had spanked and slapped me. My throat was stiff from the ordeal of giving full, total head to his monstrously long cock. He had kidnapped me, raped me, used me like an animal. And I couldn't stop coming while he did it over and over and over and over. There was a sickness inside me. A sickness I had never guessed might exist, but I couldn't avoid the knowledge any longer, not while it was in control of my body and my undulating cunt.
"Fuck me, you son of a bitch! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!!"
Was that my voice screaming so shrilly, demanding that my rapist continue to assault my helpless body? Was I so awfully helpless? Hadn't I engineered this particular phase of it all? Hadn't I taunted and abused him verbally, knowing full well that he would go off the deep end? I was playing games with his sanity, but, oh, God, what about my own? Did I even have anything left that could be called sanity? Had I not, truly, lost my own mind-not to mention my soul?
My guts churned, and the walls of my cunt were greasy with the juices sucked from the innermost parts of me. They flowed up and down the tube of my cunt, bathing his long slender cock, greasing him for the deeper and deeper plunges that brought his battering cock again and again to the mouth of my womb. Each stroke was agony, but it was an agony that made my cum juices flow in stickier abundance. With each ramming thrust, I clawed at the mattress, ripping into it with my nails, shaking as I came and came and came.
Abruptly he jerked his cock from my cunt. My eyes got big and I looked around.
"No, don't stop," I panted, "please, don't stop, can't you feel me coming?"
Froth was bubbly on my lips, and I knew that I must have looked the way he did, the day in his hospital room when he attacked Chad, and God, I was ready to attack him now. I wanted to grab that cock of his, and pull it once more into my gobbling cunt so that he might fuck me, fuck me, fuck me...
He slapped my ass again, and I screamed, but it was a sweet happy scream. It didn't sound like a cry of pain, not even to my own ears.
"Is that what you like, Karen?" I heard him ask. "Do you want me to hit you?"
"No. Yes. No. Oh, God," I moaned, not sure what I was saying.
"Ill show you something even better," he promised, and then he pushed into my crotch with his stiff cock again, only this time he was too high, he wasn't making for my pussy. I shook my head, tried to tell him he should be lower, that he couldn't get into my cunt from that angle. And then I felt the tip of his prick at the opening of my asshole and I knew that my final degradation was at hand. He didn't intend to cunt fuck me. I was in for a corn-holing.
Anal sex had never appealed to me. I had tried it once or twice, but the initial pain was too much.
'Take it out, now," were the first words I said, before anything other than the very tip of a stiff, willing cock was able to violate more than a quarter-inch or so of my rectum. The very act of having my anus spread-well, it was a turn-on, but the teasing was all I had been interested in. The threat of being buggered by a knowing friend, followed by the sweeter, hotter insertion of aroused cock into my equally aroused cunt and a fuck that would have me crawling the walls. All my other lovers had known the rules on that particular game, and it had always been sweet, almost innocent fun for both of us.
But there were no rules with Billy. He did things to me, and my body responded in ways that alarmed me, frightened me to the very marrow of my bones. And I knew, as he pushed his cock at my asshole, that there were no rules here, either, no game plan understood and taken for granted.
"No, not that," I told him, and I really believe I meant it.
His cock shoved at me, hard, and my sphincter popped and he went into me. "AAAAIIIIEEEEE!!"
It was a yell of pain and agony drawn from the pit of whatever shred of decency and morality was left to me, but it didn't stop his cock from driving hard and fierce up the excruciatingly tight channel of my ass. My fingers clawed savagely at the mattress. It was already torn by my nails, and shreds of cotton, old and stale, oozed from the rips like semen trickling from a well-fucked cunt.
"NOOOOOOO!!" I shouted, but he'd found his leverage and he was holding me by my asscheeks, driving his cock into me, pulling it out, shoving it home again, with a ferocity that dwarfed the erotic energy he'd thrown into fucking my cunt.
I had a totally virgin asshole-nothing had ever entered it except an occasional finger during a physical, and nothing had ever come out of it except for my shit. And now it was full, God, so full, of twelve inches of throbbing male gristle!
Twelve inches? Oh, no, surely it was more than that! Surely his cock had doubled in length sometime between the moment he emerged from my cunt and rammed his way up my asshole! He felt so long, so incredibly, bestially long. He was stiff, stiffer than any cock I had ever had in my body, or so he felt, buggering me like a madman.
He came down upon me, and his hands encircled my body, finding the swollen, sweaty mounds of my tits. I screamed from the ferocity of his touch. I screamed again when his fingers closed on my stiff, throbbing nipples. They were bigger and fatter than they had ever been in all my life, and I knew that if I had looked at my nipples, they would have gleamed as red as the cheap, vivid lipstick Billy had brought me from the agency store.
"Ahhhhhhh, Godddddd!!" I gasped, and it felt as if he were not only stuffing me like a turkey but choking me as well.
"Is this how you want it, Karen?" he asked. "Is this how you want me to love you? Up your sweet, tight ass? Oh, God, Karen, I can feel our medicine joining! Can't you feel it too? The way you clutch me, the way you shake under me, the way you moan? Your tits are so slippery I can hardly hang onto them. Does he make you feel this way? Do you scream like this when he fucks you?"
"Don't talk, damn you," I gasped, "don't talk-fuck!"
He laughed, and his cock kept reaming in and out of my asshole, and things were still happening inside me. My cunt squeezed and contracted even though it was empty. I was straining with every fiber of my being to suck with my cunt a cock that was no longer there. A cock that had transferred itself to another hole, a hole that was doing some powerful clenching and squeezing of its own.
God, he fucked me so deep, so hard! The hammering tip of his cock slammed up into my lower intestines. He must have recoated his cock in the cum that he'd already spilled into my belly. The very thought of that made me crawly all over. I was hot. Sweat dripped from every pore of me. He was right about one thing. His hands could scarcely get a grip on my tits, for they were awash in perspiration. The fumbling of his fingers across my tits as he tried to squeeze me was almost as erotic, almost as much a turn-on as the squeezing itself would have been. I moaned like a hitch every time his fingertips tickled my stiff, throbbing nipples. My nipples ached, and so did my ass, but it was an ache I wanted to endure forever. God, what was happening to me? What had I allowed myself to become?
"AAAARRGGGGHHHH!!" I gasped, bucking upward as his cock really picked up speed, driving into me with the force of a jackhammer.
I couldn't live another minute, not the way he was reaming my tight, tender asshole. But I didn't want him to stop. My legs had curled back, around his, and I was holding him with my heels and with the clutching muscles of my rectum. I'd given patients a thermometer up the ass. I'd seen them make startled faces as the little tiny glass tube wiggled its way into their most private holes. And once or twice I'd had to pull really hard to free the thing when it was time to take the reading. Jesus Christ, now I knew what it was all about! I really knew! It would have taken an act of Congress-no, an act of God!-to get that long, ravishing cock out of me now.
My ass clenched, and it made a tighter fuck for him, and a kind of agony for me to take him. I gasped and my body gave him just enough leeway to make his entrance, and he entered me again, and I screamed again. I didn't even have time to feel guilty. He was using one hand to stroke my tits, sliding back and forth from one slippery mound to the other, and his other hand was down into the hairy puff between my thighs, attacking my cunt.
He found my clit. It was standing up like a fencepost! You could have missed the Grand Canyon easier than my clit. His fingers clenched and squeezed the excruciatingly tender tip of that sweet, hot button. Everything I had melted, like a stick of frozen butter thrown into a campfire.
"I'M COMMMMINNNNGGGGG!!" I screeched at the top of my lungs. I don't think the announcement was completely necessary. If he couldn't feel that I was coming, then he had no business fucking me in the first place!
Oh, God, what business did he have, fucking me? And what business had I, coming like a hot, horny bitch under him? I was a married woman, married to the man I loved.
This-this person-this animal-had invaded my bedroom and dragged me away unwilling, and he had raped me savagely, brutishly-was still raping me-and I, God, I was responding, the way no decent woman should have, could have, responded in my situation! I had never been multi-orgasmic in all my past life, but I was now, coming and coming, one climax blasting through me directly on the heels of the one that had just sent shivers and explosions up and down my shaking body.
Then the pressure of Billy's cock slackened in my asshole and I wondered for a puzzled moment if he had already climaxed too, and squirted his jizz up my shitchute without my even noticing. But he was still rock hard. There had been no letup in the stiffness of his rod. Moaning, I clawed the mattress, ripping it more and more in my frenzy, and I tightened my anus around him.
"Let go!" he shouted, and his brutal, savage, slapping hands began to cuff my asscheeks, and I sobbed and I moaned some more, and my body grew slightly limp-limp enough for his cock to jerk free of my ravished asshole.
He thrust it up my cunt again without a moment's hesitation. My head and shoulders bucked upward. Now I had something for my twitching cunt walls to contract and suck upon, once more. That's exactly what they did. I couldn't stop. I wasn't sure I wanted to stop.
He gripped my ass, his nails digging into the flesh. He fucked me-perhaps ten or twelve strokes in all, but each of them deep and penetrating and so meaningful I began to see visions of mad paradisiacal splendor revolving before my dazzled eyes.
"It's working, Karen," he told me, but I heard him with only half my consciousness. "It's working just the way it's supposed to! Our medicine! Ours!"
He went into me, corkscrewing, but my cunt was too numb with repeated orgasmic exhaustion to notice the particular finesse. I could only lie there, moaning, enduring, delirious with lust.
I didn't know a goddamned thing about the "medicine" he was talking about. It made me think vaguely of Carlos Castaneda and Don Juan, who were hot stuff among the spaced-out kids I'd known in college.
Maybe I was getting spaced-out too, because, consciously or not, I could sense that something was interacting between me and Billy. The point of union was where his long stiff cock speared its way into the churning swampy depths of my rippling cunt.
"Turn around," he commanded, easing his pecker out of me. I sensed overwhelming loss once more, but I rolled over, spreading my legs, reaching down with both hands to pull my cunt open for him.
"Put it in me," I panted, "put it in me, Billy, fuck me while I'm still coming! Hurrrryyyy!!"
I worked my wet, sticky, swollen cuntlips anxiously, not forgetting to keep a pinky active on the hot bud of my clit.
"Do it do it do it do ittttttt... " He grabbed my hair and jerked my head downward. I screamed, but my scream was cut short by the stabbing thrust of his cock into my mouth!
His cock tasted of cum and shit and a million other tilings I couldn't begin to describe. It was in my mouth and my tongue began to slurp around and around him, and I sucked ferociously, milking him with my jaws, aching to feel his cum gush into me once again.
Cunt, mouth, asshole-it didn't matter where! My body was a junkie and it needed its fix of hot squirting cum! I grabbed his balls and started to work them in my hands. God, where had it learned such self-control? From that crazy woman at the state hospital? Perhaps, like Frankenstein, I had created my own monster, but it had matured rapidly and without my assistance. The throbbing proof of that maturity was stabbing into my mouth and I didn't care if it was coated here and there with little dabs of shit from my rectum. I sucked and I sucked and I sucked.
"Stop," he commanded, and his voice was deep and assured.
I looked up at him, big-eyed, still gobbling. "Stop," he repeated.
My lips went slack and his cock withdrew, still gloriously hard. There was a fat milky drop of jizz on his tip. My tongue longed to taste it, but I was not in command here. My only task was to receive, and to receive as he chose to give.
He pushed me back, and I wiggled onto the bed, sliding further back so that he could come down and mount me. I lifted my knees, ready to clutch him as he came into me, but he only leaned forward and placed the tip of his cock against the splayed mouth of my cunt. His face was scarlet and sweat beaded in big drops all over him. The air was no longer stale and scented of dust. Now it smelled of heated bodies and the sweat of sex and the fragrant musky juice of my cunt.
"It's time," he said in a thin, tight voice and he pressed his cock against my open-mouthed hole.
I reached down to grab his cock, eager, willing to split myself for his penetration, but that wasn't what he had in mind. He took hold of his cock and his fist flexed-once, twice, thrice.
He exploded then, and his cum gushed onto my cuntal mound. It clotted in my thick pubic hairs, seeping through them, onto the warm flesh beneath the curls of fur. It was hot cum, hot as fire against my skin. I moaned, reached in with a finger to massage the sticky stuff into my flesh.
He kept squirting. Some of his cum sprayed me in big thick coats. Some of it even went into the sticky, wet hole of my cuntal mouth. I felt my pussy muscles rippling, drawing the gel of life up my cunt, into the very depths of my being. Still squirting, Billy finally inserted his cock rod, thrust deep, and collapsed upon me. My knees did the job they had been prepared to do. They held him, as did my hands, and he lay heavy on top of my body. His cock felt hard in my cunt. His jizz blasted into me. Each jerking explosion of his cock made me explode once more too. We lay there for what seemed forever, holding each other tightly, our bodies locked, our medicine firmly, fully joined. It seemed so natural, so right, for him to be fuck-deep in my snatch, for me to be holding him tightly, and when our mouths came together, that was right, too. Our tongues met and we shared saliva the way we were sharing cum, and there was no such thing as time, space, or morality any longer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next thing I was aware of was the darkness, and Billy getting up to light the gas lamp. Where had the day gone? God, I knew where it had gone! Into my degradation, my total, complete abasement! I drew myself up on the bed, huddling into a tight defensive ball. I had never been so naked, so totally vulnerable.
He set the lamp on a chair near the bed, and he stood a moment in the light. His body gleamed like a bronze statue. If only his mind were normal, I thought, he would be a man to live with. If only he weren't warped.
But who was I to talk about being warped? I could still feel a numbness around my cunt and asshole, and the taste of his cock was strong in my mouth. I wiped my lips defensively, but the taste didn't go away.
He went to the box of sundries, returned to the bed carrying a couple cans of tuna, an opener, and some plastic forks in a bag.
"We need something to snack on," he said, sliding onto the bed alongside me.
"Stick that up your ass!" I said, pointing to the tuna.
"Do you know how many dolphins they slaughter just to keep Charley the Tuna on the supermarket shelves?"
He opened the can. I smelled the strong, fishy flavor of the tuna. My stomach began to growl. Did morality really count,. I wondered, when you were starving? And I was starving.
He handed me the opened can and a plastic fork. "I've got something else to stick up your ass," he grinned, touching his limp cock.
"Eat," he continued. "We need our strength. We have more medicine to make."
I gobbled the tuna, using my fingers to scoop it into my mouth. Sorry, Flipper, I thought. It tasted so good I felt guilty. But then, I had a lot of things to feel guilty about, didn't I?
Billy opened his can of tuna and ate it delicately, in contrast to the wolfish eagerness with which I devoured mine. I finished the whole can, threw it over my shoulder, and watched him eat.
"Here," he offered, and he passed a forkful of fish to my mouth. I snapped it off the plastic utensil and swallowed it, hardly bothering to chew.
When he was done, he put his hand on my hair. I shied away, fearful of his touch. Fearful of what he might do to me.
"No," I said. "Don't do that."
"Your hair is so long and pretty," he said. "Indian girls have straight dark hair, but yours is wavy, like that girl on television. What's her name? Sarah-something?"" God, I thought. He must be the only male in America who didn't know the name of Farrah Fawcett-Majors! I laughed. Maybe it was a mistake.
"I have another surprise, Karen," he said, sliding off the bed and returning to his box of goodies.
What was it this time? A bullwhip of plaited leather? My belly got shivery. Did I almost wish he had a whip in the goddamned box? I was afraid to probe too deeply into myself, afraid of what the answer might be.
It was only a brush and comb set, still wrapped in plastic. Cheap items, but he unwrapped them with care.
"Let me brush your hair," he said, joining me on the bed. The lantern cast strange shadows on his body, and the night air that made goosebumps rise on my body or the touch of his hand?
"Don't touch me," I warned. "Haven't you done enough to me already? Haven't you degraded me and robbed me of every vestige of decency I possess? Haven't you-haven't you-" I couldn't go on. He touched my hair with the brush, started to comb it through my touseled, wavy locks. My hair was still a little damp from the shampoo I'd given myself in the tub outside.
"Stop it, goddamn you!" I shouted. "Will you get your fucking hands off me and keep them off? I want to go home! I want to get out of here and never have to see your goddamned fucking face again! I don't want you touching me and I don't want you feeding me and I don't want you, fucking period! Can't you get that through your stupid thick skull, you half-breed son of a bitch?"
He drew in a sharp breath and his hand flew back and I thought he might hit me full in the face with the hairbrush. God, I told myself, that was what I had thought even before I spoke! So why had I spoken at all?
"If that's how you want it," he said, and he touched my hair one more time with the bristly side of the brush. I felt the prickle against my scalp. He stroked me downward, very softly, very gently, and his eyes were on mine, staring into me, penetrating me as completely as his cock had penetrated my cunt. He swept my tousled hair back with his hand, and the backs of his fingers brushed my shoulder. His hands lingered on my shoulder, then slid down the curve of my breast and across my palpitating left nipple. It was just a touch, not a squeeze.
"If that's how you want it," he repeated, and he threw me forward. I fell onto my face on the dingy mattress, and my ass was sticking up. He put his hand on my bottom, stroked me with his palm for a moment, and then he hit me hard. The hairbrush was flat and it stung like hell every time he slapped my asscheeks with it.
"Ouch!" I shouted. "Goddamn you, stop it!"
My ass wiggled and my legs parted just a little, just enough that he was able to spank the bulge of my cunt with only the slightest alteration in the angle of his attack. He hit me there. He hit me hard. He hit me till my twat ached and my cuntlips puckered. Every stinging slap across my skin, no matter where he hit me sent a fresh charge of erotic arousal blasting through me. If he'd only touched my cunt and let his fingers brush my cunt slice, he'd have felt the fresh wetness beginning to form like a soft sticky dew on my crack. I leaked from the deepest parts of me, parts that he stirred again in that strange way. I could never even begin to understand. I could only feel and experience it as it happened to me.
"Ohhhhhhh... " I moaned and my voice dropped off into a low, purr, interspersed among the stinging, ringing cracks of the hairbrush slapping me on the ass, pussy and upper thighs.
His pecker touched my ass and I knew that he felt some of the strange, unexplainable sensations that quivered through me. I sighed at the warmth of his cock, the first gush of blood into his tool. I kept sighing and moaning and sobbing and his cock rose against my side. His cock hardened as it touched me. It hardened, oh, God, and stood up in that proud, not-to-be-denied way it had of erecting.
He hit me a few more times with the hairbrush. My ass felt raw and bruised, but so hot. Oh, my Jesus, it was as hot as fire. All of me was hot, and all of him was hard. He dropped the brush, and I rolled over and I looked up at him. He put his hands on my tits, sweeping my hair back out of the way. He held on to me with a manly grip while my hand burrowed into his lap and seized the rigid stalk of his cock.
"You know, don't you?" I told him in a husky half whisper. "You know what it does to me?"
"It does something for me, too," he said. "I love you, Karen, but I want to do things. I want to do wicked things to you. I see your pink beautiful ass and I want to spank it and slap it and squeeze it and fuck it. I want to grab your head and make you suck my cock. I want to choke you with it, to stab your mouth until you're full of my cum and it's dripping from your lips. I want to fuck your cunt too, and make you squirm and scream and grab me with your hands and your legs and your cunt while I squirt my stuff into your belly.
"Suck me now, Karen. Put me in your mouth and suck me. Suck me hard. Suck me till I come. Let it drip out of your mouth and down your chin so I can see it. Let me see your mouth full of my jizz. Suck me, Karen. Our medicine is good when my cock is in your mouth. Suck me. Suck me. Suck me."
What made him think he had to ask? Jesus! I threw myself forward, and the red knob of his cock stuck out past his rolled-back foreskin. My tongue slithered onto him. He was naked now, and all of his body was mine to assault, the way he'd assaulted me.
I had the end of Billy's cock in my mouth and I sucked him with a feverish anxiety I had never given to any other man who had enjoyed the use of my suckling mouth.
My head bobbed up and down as I ate him, and he went deep into my mouth, but he couldn't go deeply enough to satisfy the hunger in me. My ass was raw from the whipping he'd given me. I thought, Lord, if only he had brought a bullship with him!
I wiggled about the bed, abusing my sore ass, making the pleasure all the more intense inside and outside. I slurped greedily while I scarfed Billy's cock. I had not come to this place with him of my own will. If I'd been given the choice, in advance, I'd have rejected the very idea. What a horror, an outrage!
Here I was, lying on my side and eating his cock while he guided my head up and down. The tip of his whang entered my upper throat. I couldn't take him as deeply this angle, not the way I'd swallowed his long slender cock when he was feeding me on the floor. I could take him deeply enough to let Billy Bissonette know that his cock was being SUCKED. That was plenty enough for the situation.
He had fucked me like an animal. He had used me like an animal and now-now I was an animal and my passions and lusts were beastly.
I took one of his hands, guided it down my body. I made him feel the vivid hardness of my nipples and the sweaty excited contours of my tits. I made him touch me on the ass, where he'd beaten me. His fingers stroked the raw welts and it felt heavenly. I clamped down on his hand, making it squeeze and paw me until tears welled in my eyes and saliva ran like a river around his cock. Then I lifted his hand, made it come down upon me in a little smacking action. I had to repeat it before he got the message I was trying to send him. He moved, almost impaling me on his thrusting rod. I knew he was reaching for the hairbrush he had used. I touched his hand and felt the brush as he held it tightly in his fingers. My finger-tips stroked up and down the smooth, unbristled side, the side he had whipped my ass with. Then I pulled him toward me. I beat myself now.
After the first stroke or two, I released him. He kept on hitting me-not savagely, but hard enough to let me know I was still being beaten and each spurt of pain in my ass sent a spasm of delirium through my brain. I closed my eyes and I sucked his cock, his long, sweet-tasting, absolutely beautiful cock. He continued to abuse me with the brush. It was like nothing that had ever happened to me in the past.
It wasn't normal. I knew that. Women who enjoy being treated the way he treated me are not normal women. I didn't care! It was what I wanted to be, and pain was what I had to have!
The night air had grown very chilly, very suddenly-the way it does in this part of the desert. My body was so fucking hot that I was sure I could feel steam rising from every pore of me. His cock was in my mouth, ramming higher, deeper. His hand guided the hairbrush onto my bare, fully vulnerable ass again and again. My asscheeks ached. They were raw, completely raw. I wanted more!
I twisted about, and he began to beat me again. Smack! Smack! Smack! Each ringing crack of the plastic against my skin was a delight to my ears and my brain and, God, above all, to my cunt!
The juices oozed from my hole, running down the insides of my thighs. My cunt hair was sopping wet. My cuntlips were swollen, itchy, horny beyond belief. My clit was a throbbing pulsation that longed for attention. I reached into my lap and started to stroke myself in fervent, eager swipes, back and forth across the risen tip of my love button.
"Bad girl!" I heard him say. "No one said you could touch yourself! Let me show you what happens to bad girls, bitch!"
He pushed my legs apart and started to slap my throbbing cunt with the flat of the brush. I moaned desperately around the barrel of the cock in my mouth. It hurt, but it hurt so sweetly. I had never guessed that pain could be so erotic, so ecstatic!
My fingers fell out of the way and he turned the brush around, using the bristly side on my raw, shivering cunt. Oh, God, how can I begin to tell what I felt then?
They were hard plastic bristles, and they felt like sandpaper scraping up and down my dripping cuntslit. It was agony, a bone-shivering agony that reverberated through and through me! The bristles scraped my tender, delicate clit, rubbing it savagely, frantically, as if he meant to abrade it completely in two or three brutal strokes! My belly began to heave and buck and I gasped around his cock, moaning to announce the first shimmery release of my come.
"You really like it, Karen," he panted, for he was into it as well as I.
His prick was thrusting harder and harder up into my mouth and it felt bigger with each thrust. I had maybe seven inches of his long pecker in my mouth, and I sucked madly, passionately, trying to eat the rest of him as well, but the angle was absolutely impossible. I did the best I could with the portion that was available. When I do my best, it is good! I sucked him hard, I sucked him fast, I sucked him sweet. Little dribbles of cum kept leaking from the end of his cock, but big dribbles of cum oozed from my twat too. I think then I envied men for one thing at least-the ability to squirt out hot sticky masses of jism in a gushing explosion. I wanted to do that. I wanted my pussy to spurt out a sweet viscous river of fuck-juice, but I'm a woman and I can't do it. I have to be content with the hot leakage of cream that makes my pussy a swampy jungle of sensual delight.
"Maybe you'll like this, too," he suggested, and there was a movement between my legs, his hand shifting around.
I spread myself a little wider, making all the room I could for him to work. If you think I stopped sucking that gorgeous cock of his even for a second, you were too busy jerking off the last couple of pages. I took a huge, giant breath and I lowered my head, and God, yes, he went into my throat. First the tip of him, and then a little more, a bit of his rod beyond the tip, and I was full of his cock the way I'd been full of his cock on the floor. It wasn't exactly the same, and it wasn't as sweet, as fulfilling, but there was nothing wrong with it either, not a goddamned thing. His cock kept getting bigger and bigger inside my mouth and I knew that his come could not be far away.
What had he said? He wanted to see it dripping from my mouth, all those sticky juices of his. God, what a waste of sweet sweet semen! But if it was his wish, it was my command, and I would do anything he wanted. Reluctantly, but only after giving him the sweetest head and throat any man has ever gotten from any willing, aroused woman, I raised my head and concentrated on sucking him in a fashion that would make his little dream come true.
Almost at the same moment I lifted my head, he rammed the handle of the hairbrush up my cunt, pushing inside until the bristles of the brush were flush against the swollen, tingly lips of my snatch. He gave his wrist a wicked, but so lovely twist, and a few of the bristles slid inside me, too.
I'd seen ads for some sort of condom which featured little rubber extensions along its length, guaranteed to send a woman screaming into orgasm as they wiggled their way into her hungry cunt. I'd always been skeptical of the whole idea until I felt those stiff plastic bristles inside my cunt. Then, oh, sweet holy Jesus, I knew!!
My head jerked up, completely off his stiff upstanding rod, and I screamed, "Oh, Chrissssstttt!!!"
He kept working the thing in and out of me. It was so much thinner than his cock, but it would never go soft no matter how long he used it on me. The end of it was sharp, a pain deep inside my cunt, as if he were gouging a hole into the lining of my cunt snatch. It was something I could live with-Jesus, it was something I didn't know how I'd lived without! My pussy came down hard upon the plastic object, and if there had been even the slightest question whether I would come to a shattering orgasm this time around, the question was answered.
I screamed, "COMMMMEEE!!" and that's what I did, swiveling my ass around and around while he did a counter clockwise number with the hairbrush in my cunt. More of the bristles got into me, and a few of them managed to tickle my clitty in the process. My belly did flip-flops.
My eyes were turning over and over in their sockets. I couldn't have seen the second coming if it had taken place in front of my face. I kept screaming and sobbing, and my eyes were full of tears and sweat rolled down my forehead. My tits did the Tangle Hustle, bouncing up and down as I bounced up and down on that evil, sinful object which had the capacity to bring me such shattering pleasure.
He kept screwing me with it, and he leaned toward me, his mouth fixing itself to my nearest nipple. He bit down hard, hard enough that when his lips unclenched there was a little ring of blood around my tit, but I didn't care, not even when I saw it. He could have bitten my nipple off for all it mattered. His tongue pressed against my throbbing tit and he sucked, long, hard, hungrily. I couldn't stop moaning out my ecstasy, not until he moved and grabbed my hair and dragged my face down, once more toward the stiff, red cock I had abandoned in the pursuit of my own selfish pleasure.
His cock touched my lips and the taste of his jizz was strong, cum that had already leaked from his eager cock, and the promise of jizz still to come. I liked him greedily like the hot little slut I had become in such a short time. My mouth opened in an "O" of acceptance and he thrust up, into my welcoming mouth.
How much, I wondered, was left of the cheap red paint he had forced me to smear onto my mouth? Probably not much. There were so many depraved acts that must have rubbed it away. I could see smears of it here and there on Billy's cock as my mouth moved up and down. My lips must have been nearly bare by then.
My come convulsions began to subside, as all comes have to. Despite the regret and sadness that should have been mine, I was too busy in my efforts to give Billy his release to worry much. I recalled, as I sucked his cock, that he had stuffed this same cock up my asshole. I wondered if there was really a taste of shit clinging to his skin or if I was only fantasizing it. What did it matter? It was my shit, and how could it hurt me? I closed my mouth and my eyes, and I started to suck for all I was worth. I vacuumed his prick until I felt the surge of his cum. My hands were on his nuts, and they twitched, and I could hardly keep from squealing in delight. A moment later my mouth was full of hot sticky cream and I couldn't have squealed if I'd wanted to.
I thought about what he had told me, and I closed off my throat. My cheeks puffed out. There seemed to be no end to the fomenting flow of jizz into me. It closed on my tongue long before the last squirts of his jerking cock. When I was sure that he had finished and his nuts were empty for the moment, I raised my head carefully from his still-rigid cock.
He was lying back, breathing hard, as my head came up. He put his hands on my shoulders, and my lips were puckered out, for my mouth was full of his cock-juice. His face was flushed, I could see, even in the dim light from the propane lantern, that his eyes were alive, glittering like diamonds. His eyes met mine and slowly, oh, so slowly, I let my lips widen from their pucker. A bubble leaked and I giggled. Then my mouth opened and the whole lake of his jizz came spilling out, down my chin, sticky, viscous, thick as gruel.
"Yes," he said, "oh, yes, Karen, now I know you feel it too!"
I caught two handfuls of his cum as the white liquid oozed down my chin. My fingers were sticky with the cum I'd collected. I looked at them a moment, then stuffed them into my mouth and sucked them dry, making loud, gluttonous noises. When I finished, I let my fingers drop out, and I looked at him and said, "Now you know."
He nodded, and he put his arms around me, and we came together in a hot wet kiss that rolled us back and forth across the bed, his cock still fiery and rigid between our bodies.
"I have to fuck you again," he said. "Not with that goddamned hairbrush this time, either."
"What are you going to use?" I asked impishly, fondling his cock. 'This? What if I won't let you put it in me?"
"Then I'll just tie you down and fuck you," he said.
"You wouldn't dare," I taunted.
It didn't even sound like my voice. It was a Karen Barta I had never known before. She wasn't Karen Barta Mason, either. I think Karen Mason was dead. Or maybe she'd never been alive in the first place.
I thought about that, musing quietly while Billy left the bed. I didn't watch as he disappeared into the shadows. I wondered about myself, who I was, what I was. Yesterday I'd known. Today I didn't know. It seemed to violate the whole idea of progress and it left me a little uneasy.
When he stood by the bed again, he was holding the ropes. I sat up.
"Not those," I said. "Not those again!" But did I really feel panic? I don't know. Did I really resist when he slipped the cords around my wrists and bound me securely to the head of the rickety brass bed? I didn't. Did I resist when he tied the ropes around my ankles? No. I didn't.
"Hey!" I said. "What the fuck is this?"
"Something different," he said. "You're so much fun when you're strapped down. I think I'll do it another way."
And with that, he lifted my right leg, pulling the cord that was fastened round my ankle. I winced and whined, but I didn't kick or fight. He drew my leg back, and he fastened the other end of the rope to the head of the bed. My knee touched my right tit. I felt very open and exposed.
The feeling increased, when he picked up the other cord, the one binding my left ankle, and tied that one, also, to the head of the bed. I was trussed up like a turkey now, my knees on my tits. My legs were spread enough that my cunt ;was an open target between my uplifted thighs. I was curled up in a kind of ball, and there was a slight pain in my lower back, but it didn't begin to compare to the kind of back pains I used to get on the job when I was a nurse. That seemed a long, long time ago, another country. That wench was dead.
He knelt on the bed, facing me, and his cock was still hard. Even after all the gushing cum he'd poured into my mouth his virility had not been drained. Maybe tuna fish was the aphrodisiac men had been seeking for years. For the sake of the dolphins, I hoped not, but the proof seemed to jut forth before my eyes-Billy's cock.
"Is this better, Karen? You aren't able to fight now, are you? You have to do whatever I want, don't you? I guess you're my slave, in a manner of speaking. But our medicine works. I feel it works every time we get together, and I know that you feel it too. And I'm going to make it work again, Karen. I'm going to put my cock in your cunt and I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll walk bowlegged for the next month. I'm going to put it in your asshole again, but only if you beg me to fuck you up the ass. You have to ask for that, Karen. You have to plead for it."
"I'll never do that," I said. And as I spoke the words, I realized that in so many ways, we were playing a game. A sick, weird game, but a game that delight both of us. And which of us had invented the rules? Tell me that, if you can.
He pushed at me with his cock, and it sank an inch into my cunt. I was still dripping wet from the encounter with the hairbrush, and I hurt, but I loved it when I felt his cock going into me.
"OH!" I whined, and my body began to tingle and twitch.
He held his prick there, not moving. He leered with triumph. Why shouldn't he? Hadn't he done it all, everything he'd dreamed of since that first day in the hospital? How many men can say that? That they've made their dreams come true?
"Fuck me," I said. "Please fuck me."
"How about in the ass?" he suggested. "Would you rather get it up the ass?"
"Yes, if that's what you want," I said. "Anywhere you want to fuck me, Billy. In the ass, in the cunt, in the mouth-you can put it in my goddamned ear if you want to. That is, if you're man enough to fuck at all. And I don't think you really-AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!"
That was when he went into me, driving his cock up my cunt, fucking me till my teeth rattled in my jaws. It was only a warm-up. He kept his cock in me long enough to grease it with the abundant juices of my pussy. Then he withdrew it, leaving me gasping and panting and begging him to stab me again.
"No," he said. "You told me I could fuck you anywhere, remember, Karen? Maybe I'll get around to your ear sooner or later, but right now, I think I'll put it here!"
He tapped my anus with his cockhead. I was tied hand and foot to the bed's upper part. My cunt was uplifted, and so was my ass. My tiny red asshole-maybe it wasn't so tiny-was dilated from his relentless attack. He began to enter me. I moaned. "You fuck me, you bastard!" I screamed. "You fuck me and fuck me good!"
He put his hands on my ass while his cock battled with my reluctant sphincter. I could almost hear a pop as he gained his beachhead. I gasped, my lower body seemed to wiggle toward him, and he went deep on the first stroke. I was being cornholed again but it didn't hurt nearly so much as before. He gripped me strongly, passionately, screwing his cock into my tight but willing hole, and I heard him say, "Oh, Grandfather, I wish you could see me now! I've found my medicine! I've found it! I've found it!"
"Fuck your medicine!" I shouted. "Fuck it, goddamn you, fuck it, fuck it, fuck ittttttt... "
CHAPTER NINE
We ate, finally, in the wee small hours. It was canned beef stew, Dinty Moore, I think. We warmed two large cans in a saucepan on the camp stove and broke crackers up in the tasty stew. We licked our platters clean.
We'd napped, didn't sleep, just napped. I'd been tied to the bed almost all night, and even when his cock was soft it was in me and his body was slumped on mine as we shared our dreams and slumber.
I ached when he untied me, but it was the most satisfied ache I could imagine anyone ever feeling. It took a few moments to get the blood flowing freely to my hands and feet again. He had to support me while I stood there. Something truly magical had happened to me and to him. We knew it so clearly we didn't have to talk about it.
At sunrise he took me outside and I didn't need to be tied. We watched the sun come up over the hills far to the east. A small red ball climbed slowly above the distant ranges and into a gray sky that slowly began to turn blue. Billy chanted to the rising sun. I couldn't understand a word he was saying.
"It's an Indian song," he told me. "I learned it from my grandfather. I learned so much from him, Karen, but I didn't know how to put it together until I found you."
I couldn't say anything. There were no possible words. Forty-eight hours ago I had awakened Chad Mason with a sweet, first-thing-in-the-morning blowjob. Later that day we had stood before a Presbyterian minister and been made man and wife. But here I was, God knew how many miles from Chad. I wasn't sure if I was his wife or his widow. I had been abducted and raped. Possibly the worst of it all, I found myself drawn more and more toward the man who had carried me off. He had ravished my body, and helped me wake up to a stunning, revealing, totally new kind of sexuality.
It must have been simmering inside me always, but I had never guessed it might be there. I only discovered it when Billy had forced it from me. Even now, when I knew that the insertion of his cock would make me come and scream in the fury of my orgasm, I still found a wicked, perverse joy in making him force me to it. He had to tie me down to fuck me, beat me, even. Then Karen Barta would explode like an atom bomb. Who was she, this Karen who'd come to life up here in the hills with Billy? This Karen who could find excruciating delight in a hairbrush flailing her bare ass, in ropes bound fast around her hands and ankles while a stiff cock ravaged every hole in her body? This Karen who-God help me-didn't really care what had happened to Chad? I didn't know this Karen, and I wasn't sure I liked her. She was living inside me and, like one of the "Three Faces of Eve," she was in charge now.
We stood near the pickup truck. I didn't know if it was his or if he'd stolen it somewhere. I didn't cared. As far as I knew, the keys were in the switch right now. But the thought of hopping into the truck and making my escape did not occur to me. I leaned against the cold metal of the truck bed and shivered, naked in the first light of day. The cool of the night began to dissipate. A hint of the daytime heat began to warm the air. To the east, the sun kept getting higher in the sky. Neither of us said anything. We just held hands and watched the sunrise.
Then Billy pulled, and I went skipping toward him, and we fell to the ground, arms around each other, mouths in tight kissing contact. He was naked too, and I fumbled in his crotch. Had the protein from our canned beef stew breakfast enriched his body yet? I didn't bother to ask him; the slow, steady erection of his cock in my hand told me all I needed to know.
The sand was gritty, but not yet scorching hot the way it had been yesterday when he staked me down and fucked me. That seemed a million years ago. I rolled onto my back, legs open, body inviting him to mount me. Neither of us thought of stakes and rawhide straps. As he moved between my legs and began to stroke my ass with the end of his hardening prick, I found myself wishing he'd brought along the hairbrush. I loved being spanked, then fucked. In the first sweet light of day, my cries of mingled pain and pleasure would rise like birds into the clear, pure desert air. Mmmmmmm...
"Fuck me," I said. "Hurt me if you want, but fuck me."
I reached down, grabbed his cock, gave it a wrenching twist. He yowled, and I laughed, because I knew by sweet experience that if I hurt him, he would be all too willing to give me delicious pain in return. How can pain be delicious? If you don't know, I can't explain it to you. All I can tell you is how it made me feel.
"Fuck me," I told him again, working the head of his cock through my bushy cunt hair. He liked my hairy crotch. Last night he'd even buried his face in my cunt, licking, kissing, sucking. In that, at least, he was no match for Chad. Billy's tongue lolled aimlessly here and there through my cunt. It was clear that Billy didn't know what to do or how to do it. I'd show him. We had time, all the time in the world. Maybe we'd never leave this shack in the hills. Maybe we'd stay here forever with our toys and our lusts and our passions.
He drew his midsection back, and I straightened his cock rod up. The tip of him was stiff and ready. His cock smashed down the puffy lips of my cunt. I sucked in my breath, raspily, preparing myself for the sudden stabbing insertion of that sweet cock. He feigned as if he were going to thrust, and then he stopped.
"What's wrong?" I asked, exhaling. His cock was still hard in my fist but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking toward the truck. I turned my head and followed the direction of his eyes.
"Oh my sweet Jesus!" I said, chilling all over.
A snake was curled beneath the truck, and its lidless eyes seemed to be staring intently at us. I'd been standing not a foot from where that snake lay only a few moments ago. My blood went cold in my veins.
Snakes terrify me. And this one was a huge diamondback rattler, the most dangerous snake in all the Southwest.
"Look," Billy whispered as he pointed with one finger at the snake. It wiggled. I felt as if I were going to faint. "Look," he repeated. 'The snake."
"I see the snake," I said in a tiny terrified voice. The only thing I wanted now was to crawl from under Billy and ran like bloody hell to the shelter of the cabin. I had not given the slightest thought to snakes the whole time I'd with him.
"It's not just a snake," Billy told me.
He crawled off me and I rolled over, fast, putting more space between me and the rattler.
Billy moved toward the snake, on his hands and knees. He purred soft words in Indian language. I sat up, chewing my knuckles. Horror filled my entire body.
"Don't," I said. "For God's sake, let him alone!"
"Hello, Grandfather," Billy said in English.
He was talking to the goddamned rattlesnake!
"It has been such a long time but I knew you would come back to me."
He squatted on the sand.
"It's been just as you promised me, Grandfather. My medicine has finally come together. I know who I am. I'm a whole person now. I'm a human being. You told me that someday this would happen, and it has, Grandfather."
He caught it around the throat and lower body, and he pulled it from beneath the truck.
"Grandfather, this is Karen. She is my woman. With her help I've found my medicine and I've become part of the great spirit.
"Karen, this is my grandfather. Come touch him."
I shook my head and he smiled. His thumb and finger were on the snake's head, holding the jaws shut, but the forked tongue shot out through its mouth and the rattles twitched. God, they rattled! I'd heard the sound before, on television and in the movies. I had never been this close to a genuine rattlesnake in my life, though, and I tried to slink back a little further.
Billy came toward me, holding the snake. Its tail wiggled wildly and its reptilian eyes gleamed. They looked like evil eyes, but to me, that's how all snake eyes look. The tongue shot out again and again and made soft hissing.
I felt sick to my stomach. I thought I was going to barf up the Dinty Moore beef stew I'd shared with Billy a couple of hours ago.
"It's my grandfather," he repeated, and now he was standing no more than a foot from me and I couldn't move. I was frozen with fear.
"He told me he would come back to me, even if it wasn't in the same shape I'd known him. As soon as I saw his eyes, watching us, I knew it was my grandfather. Karen, please, touch him. He's going to help us complete our medicine. Aren't you, Grandfather?" The little slender tongue shot out at him.
I didn't move, so Billy came to me. He touched my tit with the snake's blunt head, and again that tongue came out, and it flicked across my nipple. I was nearer dying at that moment than at any time during my ordeal. The touch was absolutely indescribable, and my nipples was already puckered in terror. The snake's flicking tongue sent a shiver through my tit and through the rest of me.
"It's a rattler," I whispered. "It's a poisonous snake."
"It's Grandfather," Billy repeated.
He pressed the snake's head into my tits, and once more I felt the flick of that tongue. My eyes rolled. I felt faint, dizzy, on the verge of tumbling to the ground in a stupor.
"He won't bite you," Billy said.
"Kiss his head."
I shook my own. But he lifted the snake, and its muzzle brushed my lips and I felt its cold, scaly reptilian flesh. It was the first time I had ever been touched by a snake. It's tongue skated onto my chin and off again. I was astonished to find myself still living.
I saw that Billy really did have the snake in firm control. He was holding the jaws shut. The poisonous fangs couldn't rear up and bite into my flesh. Only the tongue could stab out, and the tongue, I remembered from biology class, wasn't venomous.
The snake's tail wriggled friskily, as if it wasn't happy being held in Billy's hands, but maybe Grandfather was just dancing for joy at being reunited with Billy.
"Lie down," Billy said commandingly. His power over me was still strong. I dropped to my heels on the sand. My ass touched the ground, and my legs stretched out. I lay there, just as he'd commanded. The sun was higher now. The sky was bluer. The beginning of a warm western breeze swept in to bathe our naked bodies.
Billy squatted beside me, still holding the wriggling snake. "Karen is my woman, Grandfather," he told the snake gravely. "If it weren't for her, I'd still be in that hospital, maybe I'd be dead. You saw all that in the spirit world, didn't you? And you've come back now, to help us find the final ingredient that will make our medicine into magic.
"Grandfather, I love you and I am glad you are here. Grandfather, will you help Karen? She's frightened, but she doesn't have to be. Help her, Grandfather. And when you've helped her, will you please help the both of us, the way you promised me you would?"
The snake hissed, and Billy nodded as if he understood the sound. He said something in his native language, and he nodded again when the snake hissed and showed its tongue.
"Lie still, Karen," he told me. "Grandfather wishes to understand your medicine."
"No," I said. "Don't touch me with that snake, Billy, for the love of God, don't... " He wasn't listening. He slid his hand lower on the snake, and he leaned toward me. Only the rattles protruded beyond the edge of his fist. He touched me with the rattles. When they touched my skin, it felt almost like a battery-powered vibrator. The rattles scraped my nipples. I wanted to scream but I was too frightened. My jaw was locked shut. I could hardly swallow. Fear filled my mouth with an acidic taste.
My nipples tingled at the touch of the rattles, and my head wobbled from side to side. I tried to say "Stop," but I couldn't. Billy worked the rattles back and forth over my taut tits, until my nipples were as stiff and as blood-red as they had ever been in all my life. He began to slide the rattler's tail down my tummy.
For what seemed an eternity, the tip of the rattler's tail was inside my navel, wiggling, rattling. My eyes were bugged out and my chest was cold. I felt as if my heart had stopped. I couldn't even feel the pulse of fear in my temples.
"What, Grandfather?" Billy asked the snake.
"I suppose so," he said. "Karen, Grandfather wants to have a closer look at your medicine. Open yourself for him."
"Open myself?" I asked. "Do you mean you want me to spread my cunt?"
I couldn't believe what he was saying.
"Your medicine," Billy corrected. "It is your medicine. Grandfather is a shaman. He had to see it."
"No," I said, and I covered my face with my hands. If I could have gotten up, I'd have run for my life, but I was frozen, stiff as a corpse. Billy frowned.
"Where is your belief?" he said to me. "Haven't I shown you that we are right together?"
He let go of the snake's tail. It began to jerk and flop in the air like a cracking whip. Billy reached down and touched my cunt. I squirmed, I whined, I pleaded, but I couldn't prevent him from touching my cunt. He pushed my cuntlips as far apart as two fingers could spread me. With his other hand, he brought the snake's face down to my pussy and I closed my eyes, unable to watch anymore.
"Isn't it beautiful, Grandfather?" he said. "Yes, I know that she has more hair than a woman of our people, but it's beautiful hair. Later I'll trim it and then pull it out, hair by hair, in the old-fashioned way, if you think it is really necessary.
"Her hole is deep, Grandfather, and my organ sinks into her to the root. I can feel her stomach churn when I'm buried in her, Grandfather. Her cunt grows hot and sticky and it sucks at my root until our juices mingle deep in her belly.
"I think we may have already planted the seed of your grandson. I felt my seed quicken in Karen early this morning.
"A closer look, Grandfather? Of course. Here."
And his fingers pried me open even a little further. My mouth foamed, forcing back the will, the need to scream. The blunt tip of the rattlesnake's head touched my exposed cunt. Billy rubbed it up and down me, even working the snout into the splayed mouth of my pussy. No, I thought, this isn't happening. I'm not being frigged by a snake! It can't be happening!
The snake's tongue shot out, grazing my clit. I knew then that it was happening. I screamed. The raspy touch made my clitoris stand up so fast I felt an ache in my cunt. "Billy, for the love of Christ!"
"Don't mention Christ," Billy whispered. "Grandfather was of the old ways. Christ wasn't his god. Do you like her, Grandfather? Do you approve of Karen? What? What did you say?"
He turned to me.
"Grandfather says that he must penetrate you."
I was too far gone in shock now, too astonished to speak at all. I gulped, and my head quivered. Billy must have assumed it was a sign of agreement. He lifted the snake's head, letting the whirring, rattling tale slide back and forth across my cunt. He still kept me open with his fingers.
'You must help," he told me. "Grandfather needs my assistance," he said. "Spread your lips, Karen."
I didn't realize my hands were in motion until my fingers touched the silky little curls of my cunt hair. Suddenly, it was me, holding my cunt open. Billy used both hands on the snake, pushing the rattle-crowned tail into the gape of my cunt. No, I thought, I am not doing this, I am not doing this...
The rattles quivered. The snake's tail sank into me. It was a large snake, thicker than Billy's cock and perhaps three feet long. God almighty, there was no way he could possibly insert all of that snake into my pussy!
I couldn't even find the voice to ask him what he intended to do. My vocal chords were frozen, as if I'd just swallowed a hogshead of ice cubes. It kept slipping into my cunt, and the rattles quivered with each additional inch of penetration. I looked down, not wanting to see it but knowing that I had to. There must have been eight or nine inches of the snake's tail worked into my twat.
My cunt began to shake in tempo with the rattlings of the snake's tail. They were deep in me, as deep as Chad's cock had ever been able to fuck its way up my hole. I had never felt anything inside me that gave me the feeling I had now.
I'd never used a vibrator on myself. I knew that a lot of women do just that-fuck themselves with a piece of battery-powered plastic. I knew that some women found extreme pleasure in the act. But during my student nursing days they'd brought in a woman who had somehow managed to work a battery-operated dildo up her cunt so far she couldn't get it out. I don't know who was more embarrassed-her, the doctor who had to remove it, or me, who had to assist in the delicate extraction. Even then they'd always seemed a hell of a poor substitute for a man.
Was this how it felt? No! It couldn't! A vibrator was nothing but stiff slick plastic with a couple of flashlight batteries inside to provide power. What I had in my now was a living organism. My cunt held the flexible, wriggly, the tail of a beast! More than a beast, a snake! A snake whose tail ended in jangly rattles.
It's rattles were deep inside me and buzzing madly, causing juice to leak in torrents from the walls of my cunt. Billy smiled at me in the most benign fashion imaginable, as if it were an everyday thing for him to share his women with his grandfather.
His grandfather?!? He thought his grandfather was a motherfucking snake! Oh, dear God, I told myself, he really is crazy! He is insane! No man in his right mind would do anything like this to a woman! He's mad, and he's driven me mad along with him. We're both insane, him for what he's doing to my cunt, and me for, oh, Christ, for letting him!
"Aaaarrgghhhh!!" I gasped, lurching upward, sucking more of the snake's tail into my cunt.
"Yes," Billy said to the hissing rattler. "Isn't she the perfect one? Isn't she the medicine you always told me I should find for myself?
"She's not of our people, Grandfather, but I know that you approve of her. I know that she loves you as much as I do. Look, Grandfather, she's beginning to make her medicine! See her face? See her eyes? See how she pants and gasps? Oh, yes, Grandfather! Fuck her! Fuck her!"
He turned the snake's head toward mine. Those lidless eyes stared at me and I couldn't look at them. Not when my cunt was beginning to erupt and I was clutching my swollen nipples. I dug into the sweat-soaked curves of my boobs. My hair had fallen down into my face, half blinding me. I couldn't breath, couldn't think, could do nothing except come, come, come, as that snake's bestial tail wiggled and jiggled deep in the trap of my cunt. It hissed in my direction. It hissed louder, as if it too were growing excited.
Then Billy jerked the wiggling tail from my cunt, and the rattles scraped once more across my clit. That was all she wrote. I screamed and reached down to my crotch. My fist closed over the pulsating bun of my dripping cunt. I came and came into my clenched fist. The hot juices leaked from my cunt slice and clotted sticky and thick in the palm of my hand. Billy and the snake watched me from above. Both of them stared at me with the same expressionless eyes, as if they were sharing a secret that I could never hope to penetrate. Theirs was a secret as old as the continent itself and the red-skinned peoples who had lived here before.
The ropes, the whippings-I could almost understand them and the astonishing response I'd made to their assault. But I had just finished fucking a snake. Could anything explain the part of Karen Barta which had allowed that to be used on her body? Even more-what in God's name could account for the responses I had made? Even now, I was still fisting my fuckbox, a finger trapped in my crack. My labes quivered around it, hot juice leaking from my hole and filling my hand. I thought I was filled with a smell that I might carry with me for the rest of my life.
Gasping, sucking for breath, I rolled on the sand, frigging myself, making that come last and last. But it couldn't go on forever, and I knew it. The last tremors subsided and I lay there, big-eyed, staring up at Billy and the rattlesnake he still held. The both of them looked down at me with faces that were blank. It was horrible and terrifying.
"Grandfather approves of you," Billy said solemnly. "Don't you, Grandfather?"
He looked at the snake, which stuck out its tongue and hissed a long reply.
Billy smiled.
"Now, Grandfather," he said, squatting beside me once more, "you must share with us the wisdom you brought from the shadow world. Let me make you more comfortable."
He relaxed his pressure on the snake's head and jaw. The snake's tail flopped around madly then, and I opened my mouth to scream. The snake opened it's mouth. I saw the long fangs, the driplets dangling from the ends of those sharp, pin-like teeth. Billy smiled, first at the snake, then at me. He was still looking at me when the snake darted. The snake's fangs sank into Billy's neck.
Billy gurgled, and his face turned white. The snake twitched, still deep in Billy's neck.
"Kkkkkkk-" Billy said, and he fell back. He hit the ground. The snake gave up his fang hold and crawled away, curling into a menacing loop a yard from Billy's shivering, prone body.
I was frightened of the snake but I hurried to Billy. There were two punctures in his neck. Blood seeped through them in little drops. The blood was mixed with a colorless something that paled the red of his life fluid. I touched the wound, but I could feel his pulse beginning to slow.
"No," I said, "no, Billy, you can't-"
"Maybe it wasn't Grandfather," he said in a thin weak voice, trying to smile. "Or maybe he knew that my medicine was right and it was time for me to go with him, back to the shadow land."
His eyes flickered, and I had seen death. I knew that I was seeing it again. My eyes filled with tears and I clutched his hand. I tried to warm his chilling face with the heat of my tits, but it was too late. The cheek my nipple brushed was the cheek of a dead man.
* * *
Somehow, I got back to the cabin. I don't know how I managed to get there, all I know is that the snake stayed beside the pickup truck watching me and it did not make a move to strike me. I found some clothes-a t-shirt of Billy's that was much too tight over my tits and the white panties he'd brought me from the store yesterday afternoon. It wasn't decent attire, not as most people would define decency, but it was all I could find and it would have to do. I found rubber sandals, too, and I made a flimsy skirt from two bath towels. I walked out of the cabin without a backward glance, and my first impulse was to put Billy into the truck and take him down to the agency. I couldn't lift him, and the snake seemed to be keeping vigil beside the corpse.
Shivering, I crawled into the truck, started it up, and headed down the mountain. The road was dirt but easy enough to follow. I guess I'd gone four or five miles when I came to a small wooden cabin, nearly as dilapidated as the one Billy and I had shared up on the mountain. But this was an occupied house. A woman, fat, dark, with lanky black hair, sat on the stoop nursing a baby. She might have been thirty, she might have been sixty. A man stood in the yard, puttering under the hood of an old model Chevy. I blew the horn loudly, and he turned, brows wrinkling as I came out of the pickup truck in my makeshift clothing.
"I need help," I said. "I need help!"
"No hable Ingles," he answered after a flicker of his eyelids.
"Un hombre es muerto," I said. "Muerto. Please," I added in English. "Help me!"
CHAPTER TEN
"I don't care what he did to you," Chad said. "It doesn't make a goddamned bit of difference, Karen. Don't you understand that? He was a madman. If you'd gone with him willingly-then I'd mind. But-" and he rubbed the bandage on the side of his head. Some of his curly hair had been clipped away, and he had a lump the size of a hard-boiled egg. It was the only injury he'd suffered in that moment of terror when Billy Bissonette invaded our wedding night and carried me off as his prisoner. For Chad's sake, I was grateful.
We were finished, at last, with the police and their questions. Billy's body had been taken away. I thought there would be no one to claim it. The snake had vanished by the time the police arrived and we made that terrible journey back up the mountain to the abandoned shack where I had been a prisoner for not quite two days. God! It felt as if I'd spent half my life in that little cabin! But the clock on the wall of mine and Chad's bedroom said twenty till eight. It was Monday evening. It had been a little more than forty-eight hours since Chad and I had come in, giggly from champagne and ready to celebrate our marriage with his hard cock and my pouting pussy. The telephone was unplugged, and so far, I'd not been called upon to face Chad's mother. I dreaded that. She had never thought I was good enough for her son, and I could see her face now, the looks she would give me as she sat like a vulture, expecting to hear every sordid detail of what had happened to me during my abduction.
She would not hear as much as I had told Chad. There were things I could never tell him, even. I had to admit to the rape and abuse. My ass was red and welted where Billy had belted and hairbrushed me. There was a certain tenderness around my anus that might make shitting difficult for a few days. But some of it-most of it-I could never tell anyone, not even my husband.
We had dinner brought in. We had enormous steaks from a charbroil pit with carryout service and Chad made a delicious salad. There was a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I was famished for real food, solid food, but I just picked at my meal, thinking all the time. I thought about what had happened to me, the depths of my soul that I had visited.
"I think I know what you need," Chad said, taking my hand. "And I want you to know that I love you, Karen," he said. "Nothing will change that, nothing that's happened. For the first time since Saturday night I don't have a headache, and I hope you don't have one either, because I intend to take you into our bedroom and finish what that freaked-out psychopath interrupted. Are you game, baby?" I stood up, smiling on the outside. "Yes," I told him. "I think I am." Did I really have any choice? How else could I find out which Karen I really was? Hand in hand, stealing kisses, we went into our boudoir. I started to take off my blouse (he'd brought some clothes for me to the police station, or else I'd still be wearing the t-shirt and other stuff I'd scrounged at Billy's cabin), but he touched my fingers and shook his head with a smile.
"Ill take care of that, if you don't mind," he said. "It's my way of saying, "God, baby, it's good to have you home!"
He undressed me, with the gentlest, softest hands on earth. They were the kind of hands that would work wonders with the children who would be his patients when he set up his pediatrics practice. I envied those children for the delicate care they would receive from Dr. Charles Luther Mason II.
"I wish it was your wedding dress," he sighed. "But I love to undress you." His hands entered my undone shirt and cupped my tits where they rested in the sheer mesh cups of the pink bra I had on. My nipples itched against his cupping palms. They were no more than half erect, even when he squeezed a little more firmly.
Both of us naked, he carried me to the bed, just the way he'd done on our wedding night, and I sighed. It didn't feel the same. He laid me down gently, and slid onto the bed alongside. And his cock was sticking out hard and thick. It was capped by a big red knob. It continued to grow from the thick patch of hair at his groin.
His whole body was so hairy, I thought, involuntarily drawing back. I touched his chest, felt the fur which covered him so thickly. Once he'd reminded me of James Caan. Who did I think of now, Smokey the Bear?
No! Goddamn it, no, I told myself angrily, and I rolled into his welcoming embrace. I forced my body to smooth up and down his, allowing his stiff cock to touch me in all the places that had once been so thrilled to be stroked by Chad's organ. I kissed him, holding his face in my hands. I sucked his tongue as soon as I could entrap it. My crotch pivoted and wiggled against his body, and I teased the stiffness of his rod.
"Let's do it," I told him. I rolled onto my belly, waiting for him to start slapping my ass and tease me with the promise of a deep stabbing cock-a cock that would enter me only when I'd been disciplined into proper appreciation and readiness.
No! That was Billy, not Chad! Chad didn't hit me. He didn't slap my face until my lips cracked and bled and the salty red liquid oozed from the wound and tantalized the end of my tongue. He didn't strap me to the bed so that I would be the helpless victim of whatever kinky lust intrigued him at the moment. He didn't whip me with his belt or his hands, let alone with my hairbrush. He didn't rub hairbrush bristles across my raw, aching pussy, and he certainly didn't fuck me with hard, pointed plastic objects that might do irreparable damage to the inside of my cunt. He had never fucked me up the ass, never commanded me to suck his cock until his cum gushed from my fluttering lips and ran down my chin in a thick gruel of sticky warmth. Chad loved me. He approached me with the gentleness a man might bestow upon a sick child, upon a piece of delicate porcelain artistry, or a sculpture in fragile glass.
His hands were soft and gentle on my body, coaxing rather than beating me into arousal. When he fucked me, he fucked like a gentleman, taking me only if I approved, taking me only as I approved. He was my husband and he'd told me so many times he loved me that I thought it must be true.
Oh, sweet Jesus, I knew it was true! Chad loved me with all his heart, and he ached now to show me that he still loved me, no matter what horrors I had been forced to experience. But how could I tell him, how could I make him understand that horror is only something you don't understand? That once you see what is going on, it's rarely horror any longer?
I rolled over, onto my back, and he began to feast on my pussy after a careful tongue-trip down my body, from lips to tits to belly to cunt. When he touched my snatch and opened me, it was with precision and delicacy-like cracking a soft-boiled egg. His tongue was a poem in my cunt, gliding, sliding, licking me here and there with the softest and sweetest of touches, pushing into my hole now and then to help stir my juices. At last I felt some wetness begin to form in my cunt. His tongue puddled happily in the juice. He spent a longer time on the insides of my thighs, licking places that had never failed to arouse me in the past.
I wanted to tell him to lick my asshole. Lick it, and then stick your finger up it, and, while you're there, why don't you use the flat of your hand on my asscheeks? Don't be afraid of hurting me. I like it best when it does hurt. And if you feel like it, shove your cock up my asshole, too. If I scream-well, a scream doesn't always mean "No!!" Sometimes it means "YESSSSSS!!"
He came back up me slowly. I tasted my cunt on his tongue. It had a flat taste, not the hot juicy flavor I'd sucked off Billy's cock yesterday in that marathon, when he took me first in the mouth, then cunt, then ass, then cunt again, then mouth, and last of all in the cunt, gushing his cum onto and into my open, sucking hole.
Would my pussy ever be filled with that special kind of juice again? I didn't know. I didn't want to guess. Chad kissed me and he moved, gently, as always. He put his cock into me.
"Oh!" I said, for I was a little too dry inside.
He frowned in sympathy, withdrew a little, stroked me with just the tip between my cuntlips until my juices had seeped a bit more. Then he entered, more slowly this time, and I sighed, but it didn't feel the same. What did it matter? If a cunt was dry when a fuck started, it was rarely dry when things got interesting.
Would it ever be interesting again?
"I love you, baby," Chad purred into my mouth as we kissed back and forth, and he was fucking me softly, gently. He knew I'd been taken at least once by Billy, so I guess he was making sure he didn't bruise my delicate flesh. But didn't he always fuck pretty much this way? Softly, gently, with slow penetrations that made me purr but rarely made me scream?
I closed my eyes. Hit me, I thought. Now, while you're fucking me, while I'm not looking. Just draw back your fucking fist and slam me alongside the jaw. Call me a bitch. Call me a cunt, a piece of twat. Fuck me as if I were just a piece of twat, a snatch and nothing more.
He didn't. Of course he didn't. He was Chad. He'd never take the belt from his pants and use it like a whip on my bare asscheeks. He'd never bend me over double and fuck me from behind while I touched my toes and didn't dare straighten up lest I get beaten down again. He was Chad. In his way he loved me. And in his way, so did Billy Bissonette.
And what about me? Until yesterday I'd been sure I loved Chad and principally because of the sweet, delicious way he was fucking me right now, but I'd changed my mind. I'd learned things about myself that might have been better left unknown. And what could I do now, when it was too late, far too late, to unlearn?
I put my arms around Chad, and he sighed, but I had ulterior motives. I began to take my pulse. It was so normal I gasped. My heart was beating at the same tempo as if I were sitting in our living room looking at the current "New West."
"Me too," Chad purred, and I knew he had misinterpreted the gasp. He began to fuck a little faster, but it still wasn't the same. What would he think, how would he feel, if he'd seen me and the snake? I wondered, and I touched my wrist again. Jesus! There had been a dramatic setup. The snake, I thought. The snake, rattling its rattles deep in my pussy and Billy and cock in my ass. I imagined twelve inches of cock in my mouth and kissing balls and leaving lipstick marks on them. I wanted him to beat my ass, whip me, rape me! Fuck me, goddamn you, fuck meeee!!!
My pulse was even faster now. I started to move frantically, and he thought it was in response to his cock and his love. How could I tell him the truth? And how long could I go on pretending? Could I confess to my husband, encourage him to use me in the way I'd come to love? What would he say, what would he do? How long would it be before he came to realize that there was a stranger in his bed, a stranger he had married and lost, all on the same day? I had left the mountain, but I had not come home. Maybe I would never know home again.
