Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Escape From Black Bear Mountain by Ozmanga 2,763 words Chapter 2 Hack Kaiser gradually regained consciousness in the wire cage in the back of the police truck. He knew it was a police truck because of a notice attached to the other side of the cage which read, "Property of the Black Bear Mountain Special Precinct Police and Environmental Authority." His head hurt where the big man had hit him. He was covered in sticky mud. He was wet, cold, and frightened for himself and his wife and daughter. The truck, a Toyota by the logo on the boss of the steering wheel, was parked alongside a cabin built close to the top of a ridge. Hack could see lights in the cabin and a big shadowy figure, possibly his assailant, moving about inside. It was raining still. Hack yelled and shook the wire of the cage but the man in the cabin either didn't hear or didn't give a damn. After about half an hour Hack could only guess how long, his Omega was missing from his wrist the rain stopped and the sky began to clear. The waxing moon shone fitfully through the scudding clouds. Hack saw his mud spattered Ford four-wheel-drive slide to a stop in front of the cabin. A tall, broad shouldered, man in black jackboots and a hooded slicker got out of the driver's seat and, after doing something to the passengers in the back led them up the steps to the verandah. Hack recognized his wife, Fiona, and their daughter Juliette. He shouted and banged on the cage but the group paid no attention as they made their way through the front door. He wondered, frantically, what was happening. His last clear memory was trying to get his cumbersome auto out of a shallow ditch. He remembered he had flagged down the only other vehicle he had seen that afternoon and being king-hit by one of the men who had dismounted, after that his mind was a blank. *** The front door of the cabin opened into a small hallway. A row of wooden pegs lined the wall opposite the door. A tub held two umbrellas, a walking stick, and a thin, broken, coachman's whip. Al led Fiona and Juliette into the hall and shut the heavy front door. He took off his rainproof cape and hung it next to Max's. Fiona saw he was wearing the neat black and gold uniform of a State Police and Environmental Authority Senior Ranger, complete with a utility belt adorned with cuffs, flashlight, truncheon and a heavy looking automatic pistol. "Welcome to your Black Bear Mountain home-from-home, ladies," he said and opened the inner door that led to the main living-room and kitchen of the recently renovated cabin. Al pushed Fiona and her daughter into the room and closed the door behind him. "Quite a place you've got here," he said. It was warm and softly lit. The polished, waxed, wooden floor was covered with a number of deep-pile rugs and one enormous bearskin was spread in front of a cheerfully blazing open fire. The living area was furnished with a number of soft leather settees and chairs and a scatter of low solid wooden tables. The walls were hung with subtly illuminated oil paintings, mainly landscapes. The kitchen area was agleam with the latest modern conveniences. It was, indeed, "quite a place." Max stood in front of the fire. He had a white fluffy towel around his hairy beer gut. Otherwise, he was naked. "You ain't seen nothing 'til you see the fucking bathroom," he said. "Cousin Aaron told me 'bout it but, Jeezus, seeing is believing. Three kinds of crapper, including one of those French things squirts water up your ass, or in the case of the ladies, washes their pussy what d'ya call 'em?" "Bidet," snapped Fiona. "Where's Hack? Where's my husband?" "Yeah. Bee day. And a shower big enough for four, and a spa bath. I ain't never been so clean. Good job they got a generator that could run a battleship and enough water to float one." Max grinned at the two women. Their wet clothes had started to steam in the warm, dry, air. "You gonna fuck them first or am I? How about we fuck one each?" "Hell, Max. I told momma here I'd let Juliette here nibble my nuts while I fucked her. Give the kid a taste of a well-creamed cunt and an idea of what goes where before you doodled her on that fuck-pole of yours. Why don't you fix us a drink while they strip for us?" "Please," protested Fiona. She made a supreme effort to remain calm and to seem in control. "This joke has gone far enough. If you leave straight away I promise not to say anything to your superiors about your your robust humor. You did, after all, pull us out of the ditch and get us here. Just just reunite us with my husband and and go!" Al laughed. Max looked surprised. Juliette held onto her mother's arm. "Lady, it's no joke," said Al quietly. Then he bellowed, "Now, STRIP!" Al's sudden yell made both the women jump. Juliette began to sob. Al reached for the young woman and threw her across the well-upholstered back of a small settee. He held her against the soft leather her wet, denim clad, buttocks uppermost. "Max," he said. "Get me that old coachwhip from the porch. I think I'm gonna have to teach these two up-market cunts a lesson." Max grinned and obeyed. Fiona tried to pull her daughter from Al's grasp. He backhand the woman across the side of her head and she sat down hard on the bearskin. When Max returned, carrying the whip a thin rod covered with braided leather, frayed and tattered at the tip Fiona was dazedly struggling to her feet. "No!" she cried as Al took the old whip from Max and gave Juliette's buttocks a firm, but not damaging, cut. "No. Stop. I'll do it. I'll strip. Oh, God, don't hurt her. I'll do anything only please, don't hurt her," begged Fiona. She fumbled at the zip on the side of her stretch-denim jeans. "Please," she implored desperately. Al let go of Juliette. "Good," he said. "Get on with it then." The young woman pulled away from him and ran to her mother's side. Fiona was having difficulty in getting the wet material down her long legs. She leaned on her daughter as she struggled to pull the jeans over her bare feet one leg at a time. Fiona's white cotton panties were rain-soaked and transparent where the cloth pressed against her pale skin. It was clear she had recently been depilated. Al gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Your tee, next," Al said. Fiona peeled the wet top over her head and dropped it on her discarded jeans "Yeah. Let's see your tits, sweetheart. I do like a slut with big melons," added Max. He had dropped the towel and was cradling his long, helmeted, penis in one massive hand. Fiona looked at him and quicky looked away. She unclipped the bra fastening behind her back. The action pushed her breasts forward and they bounced softly as she shrugged the bra straps over her shoulders and dropped the white, lace-trimmed, garment on the floor. She kept her eyes on Al as she slid her hands to her hips and began to roll her wet cotton panties down her thighs. "Just me, right? Not the girl," she begged. She was leaning forward and her large breasts swung like ripe fruit. Al touched her right nipple large, plum colored and surprisingly erect with the tip of the broken whip. He tapped Fiona's pendent breasts with the frayed leather whip as she slipped her panties over her calves. "Just me, right?" Fiona stepped out of her Ants Pants and straightened up. Al grinned cruelly. "Wrong. You and the 'girl'." Fiona flinched at the savagery in Al's voice. She reached for her daughter and put an arm over Juliette's shoulders. "She's only a child, really," Fiona said. "You undress the little bitch now, or I will with this," said Al. He brandished the old coach whip. He made it swish through the air. Fiona looked at her daughter. "I'm sorry, darling," she whispered, her voice quavering with fear. "It's best to do what he wants. Let me help you." Juliette shook her head. "I'll do it," she muttered and quickly tugged the tee-shirt over her head, unzipped her jeans and struggled out of their tight embrace. Juliette was not wearing a bra. Her firm young breasts were less mobile than her mother's and her pink nipples were much smaller. She was wearing a white thong. The tightly stretched pouch between her legs was every bit as transparent as Fiona's panties had been. Like her mother, it was clear she had been waxed recently. Her pudendum was as smooth as an alabaster statue. Juliette hesitated to remove this last wisp of cloth. Al growled and raised the whip. To forestall the policeman Fiona snatched at the thin waistband of her daughter's thong and ripped the flimsy garment off. The two women stood, naked, clinging to each other while Max ogled them and slowly pumped his flaccid, but rapidly swelling, cock. "Julie," said Al. "Why don't you give your momma a kiss? She just saved your ass from a real thrashing. She deserves thanks. So kiss her." He sat on the settee nearest the couple and started to take off his boots. Julie hesitated, then did as she was told and gave her mother a demure peck on the cheek. "Not like that," said Al. "On her lips. And let's see some tongue." His discarded left boot thudded onto the wooden floor. Fiona bent over her daughter and kissed her full on the lips. Juliette's head went back but Fiona's arm was around her shoulders and the young woman didn't fall. "That's not what I meant," said Al. "I meant her cunt lips. So get on your fucking knees and start eating Momma's pussy and, like I said, let's see some tongue." His right boot hit the floor and he stood up and reached for the whip. Juliette hesitated, horrified at what the big policeman had demanded. Fiona moved quickly to save Juliette from another cut from the whip. She put her hands on the girl's shoulders and pushed her down onto her knees. Juliette's head was level with her mother's shaved pussy. "I I don't know " stammered the kneeling woman. "Start at the bottom," said Fiona desperately. "Kiss me. Then run your tongue up and down the outside." Juliette's leant toward her mother and her lips pressed softly against the older woman's plump cunt lips. "Ah that's right, but slowly " Fiona closed her eyes. Juliette's tongue moved up and down Fiona's smooth pussy. The older woman sighed. "More fucking tongue," growled the cop. Fiona looked up at him, tears ran down her cheeks. "Now part the outer lips and do the same to the softer inside," she advised. "You'll need to poke your tongue out more," she sobbed. "Oh my God. Up and down, darling. Up, oh that's my clitoris! Not too much there, please." Juliette's soft lips and tentative probing were having an effect on Fiona she had not thought possible under any circumstances. Certainly not the situation she was now in naked and defenseless and about to be raped by two men, one of whom had a freakishly long cock. Juliette grew more confident and bolder, using her slim fingers as well as her mouth. Fiona sat on the arm of the settee nearest the fire, She spread her legs and thrust her pelvis forward slightly. She was awash with juice. Fiona looked up to see Al and Max grinning at her. Max's cock was much bigger than it had been earlier. Al was neatly placing his black and gold dispatch-rider type trousers over the back of one of the settees. His underpants bulged ominously. "Oh, God," Fiona moaned and closed her eyes as Juliette, no longer requiring instructions, dug her tongue deep into her mother's cunt. Then she slowly slid it out and up, caressing the soft pink tissue, until the tip encountered Fiona's clitoris where she delivered a feather-light butterfly kiss to the sensitive organ. "Oh ,God," Fiona said as Juliette repeated the action again and again. "Oh, Juliette " Fiona grabbed her daughter's head and pressed it to her groin. " Ju Juh!" Fiona cried as she quivered and jerked in the throes of an unlooked for orgasm. "Well, what d'ya know?" grinned Max. "The horny bitch came, for Krisake." Fiona pushed Juliette's head away from her and looked fearfully around. She was panting. Her nipples were engorged. Juliette looked worried. "Momma " she began. "I couldn't help it." She said to no one in particular. She was as surprised as her daughter. Fiona hadn't had a satisfactory climax for years. Hack wasn't very big on sex, she thought. And then with a fearful look at Max and the cable of meat he was massaging toward an erection she added mentally, Hack wasn't really very big. Fiona looked away from Max and saw that Al was standing close by and grinning like he'd won the lottery. Al had hung his uniform shirt and utility belt neatly over the back of a wooden chair. He was naked, apart from his socks. A handsome man, Fiona thought. Tall. Slim. Sandy hair. Craggy face. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, flat, well-muscled stomach. His cock stood out stiffly. Bigger than Hack's, she thought, and his bollocks, heavier and lower slung. "Get on the bearskin, kid," he said to Juliette. "On your back." The young woman was quick to obey. Her eyes were wide with fear and excitement. "Now you, momma, straddle the little bitch so she can get a close up of the action." Fiona did as she was told. Now he's going to fuck me, she thought. She knelt astride her daughter's head then lowered her face onto the snarling bear's mask, clasped her hands in an attitude of prayer, and lowered her hips above her daughter's mouth. And, God help me, I don't care. I want him to. Without being told Juliette lifted herself and gave her mother's exposed pussy a long, lingering kiss. "That's sweet," said Al. He knelt behind Fiona's upraised ass, with Juliette between his legs, and without a pause rammed his thick, cord-veined, cock deep into Fiona's well-lubricated quim. "Ugh," he grunted as he felt Fiona's vaginal muscles grip his thick member and his heavily weighted scrotum brush Juliette's upturned lips. "Use your tongue, slut. Lick my cock and bollocks like you licked your momma's cunt," he growled at Juliette. The girl was both frightened and fascinated by what was happening and did as she was told. She could hear her mother groaning in time to each firm, deliberate, thrust of Al's hips. The young woman concentrated on keeping her tongue on the underside of Al's slippery cock, but she frequently misjudged his tempo and Fiona's increasingly active responses to his fucking. As a result she often inadvertently tongued her mother's clitoris or Al's bull-like scrotum. The salty taste and smell of Fiona's and Al's freely flowing juices was not as disgusting as she had thought it would be, her mother's familiar perfume was the main scent. Fiona tried not to cooperate with her rapist despite her lustful feelings. But no sooner had Al rammed his remarkably thick cock into her she began to lose the will to resist the temptation to do so. When her daughter probed her clitoris with her tongue for the third time Fiona's resolve crumbled and she thrust back at the rampant policeman taking his full length and gripping his broad, stiff, cock with the muscles of her vagina. Her climax came when Al quickened the pace from fast to frenzy, grabbed her swinging tits, one in each hand and pumped a stream of warm sperm deep inside her. As he throbbed and jerked Juliette again found her mother's clitoris with her probing tongue and Fiona joined Al in an exquisite climax. "Keerist, you're a hot bitch," said Al sliding out of Fiona's puffy cunt. His cock had lost its rigidity but was still a mouthful, as Juliette found. Al made her suck and lick it clean before he stood up, dragged the young woman to her feet and tossed her to the watching Max. "She's all yours, Maximilian," he said. "Don't kill her." To be continued.