The pickup truck rolled to a stop in front of the tiny post office within seconds of the 9:00 AM agreed-upon time. It matched the description perfectly: blue, late-model 4-wheel-drive Chevy, white fiberglass camper shell with a pop-up vent on its roof. Jack looked at the driver: a man, rough-cut, unshaven, graying black hair, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties.
The power window on the cab's right side rolled down. "Get in, Jack," said the voice from inside. Jack did.
"Do as you were told?" the man asked brusquely, "Checked out of the motel? Car in the supermarket lot?" Jack nodded and began to speak but the man cut him off.
"Dirk's my name, Jack." He didn't offer to shake hands; he just surveyed Jack with cold eyes as the truck drove out of the small Oregon logging town. "Glad to meet you, Dirk," he began, "My whole name's Jack-" "Jack's enough," Dirk stopped him, "'least until we get to know each other better."
Jack sat back and sighed. He dug for his seat belt and clipped himself in, noticing Dirk wasn't wearing his. He began to mention it but thought better. Outside, a pocked, desiccated strip of ancient asphalt struggled to allow a steep, contorted path into densely forested mountains. The absolute craziness-the utter difference between his job, his all-too-recently barely-middle-class San Francisco Bay Area existence and this-drew involuntary shudders. Even if he had admitted what he was doing, no one would have believed it. He didn't even tell his two closest friends anything more than that he'd be "out of town" for a day or so. So far, this idea, this plan had nearly driven him insane with anxiety, expectation, and, often, fear. Throughout, the emotions had ebbed and flowed but this morning it all seemed to have suddenly disappeared, leaving him floating in strangely still waters. If anything made him feel better, it was the certainty of the 10 AM meeting at work on Thursday. By then, this whole adventure would be over; he saw himself sitting quietly, musing about it while pretending to listen to another boring report. Still not speaking, Dirk lit a cigarette and Jack prayed he'd crack his window. When he did, Jack sent a smile of thanks to try and loosen things up. Dirk seemed to ignore him but Jack couldn't mistake the fact Dirk's eyes continued darting from the road to sweep over his body, then back again. He did it over and over. Jack looked away and worried silently. He wondered if this morning's inexplicable release from weeks and months of intense preoccupation might mean more than he thought. "Fucked here," Dirk griped all of a sudden, "too many fucking mountains. No radio reception. Forgot my tapes." Dirk's voice trailed off and he seemed to settle into a silence radiating unwelcomeness to conversation right now. Jack looked at the steep terrain and walls of thick forest that now made him feel almost claustrophobic.
Jack began to regret coming. He felt twinges of stupidity and guilt about how it had come to pass.
Almost six months ago, he'd bought one of the new state-of-the-art multimedia home computers, then gotten himself on the net. It wasn't long until he found the newsgroups. Not long after that he discovered his news-reading software would automatically decode and display the binary picture files.
Never married and currently between rather infrequent relationships, he found himself gravitating to the sexual shots and, inexplicably, the bondage and torture groups. Before long, he realized he'd spend hours just looking at image upon image of men and women tied and naked being used by their tormentors. Soon, he began sitting in front of the computer naked and stroking an ample hard-on as the pictures rolled onto his monitor. Later, lying alone, Jack's nipple-clipped fantasies unleashed ever more enjoyable, exquisitely intense releases.
One day, he came across a link to a site promising hundreds of free images and he followed it. The site turned out to be rich with just the kinds of shots he'd learned he particularly enjoyed: men and women, bound, then stripped, then sensually tortured. He especially liked the wilderness settings, rather than the usual tacky shots with electrical outlets and spare-room debris in the background. It gave them a sort of "primitive" atmosphere and, somehow, touched something just beyond Jack's conscious mind. Better, these particular images contained normal-appearing people, rather than the all-too-common buxom blondish beauties. And it had an air of authenticity that nearly frightened; the victims seemed in genuine terror and their torment almost palpable.
In truth, Jack longed for reality. Since he'd been downsized onto the street, then rehired as a no-benefits, no retirement temp to sit at his same desk doing twice the work for 40% of the pay, nothing seemed genuine except his own torment. His only salvation was decent health since, with the absolutely skeletal medical insurance that consumed half of what he did manage to bring home, the slightest illness or injury would cast him into a bottomless pit. Other than that, taxes, big-city prices, rent, lease payments, and ever-due car insurance, had made anything but hand-to-mouth existence, at best, illusory.
Vacations or travel and their attendant costs-not to mention chance of injury-now lay light years beyond reach; he had to wonder who could afford it any more. Despite taking his entire meager savings plus dropping him into steep credit card debt, Jack's new computer represented a low-cost refuge: a place where he could pass time, get ideas, and perhaps discover some way to restore life's value.
The pictures-that particular site-brought a kind of systematic certainty to existence. The supply of sensually arousing images seemed never-ending. He'd bookmarked it and kept coming back. One week, they added a "survey" link and he clicked on it. He answered questions: What kind of pictures did he enjoy most? Men? Women? Combinations? How real did they appear? What would he like to see?
The survey didn't have "check boxes" or "radio buttons" like others he'd seen, rather little spaces to fill in. Alone in his tiny apartment, Jack came to look forward to the surveys, finding he always came up with imaginative input. A few weeks later, a "comments" block was added and Jack sent his compliments. Another box asked for his e-mail address. Jack thought a moment, then filled it in; by now, he felt a genuine connection and it gave him a faint tingle that they might find who he was. The following day, a reply hit his e-mail account. The author, presumably Dirk, seemed delighted with Jack's words and the two began exchanging messages. But the writing had struck him as far smoother than the personality of the man sitting next to him. Jack didn't know what to think and didn't dare venture a guess right now.
Nevertheless, subsequent e-mail correspondence had elicited much from Jack about his fantasies: discussions exploring why bondage and torture seemed to appeal to him, requests for the wildest, most erotic images he could conjure. On this latter topic, Jack found himself obsessed, awake nights, writing constantly, lost in descriptionless passion conjuring scenes so intense they consumed surprisingly huge amounts of energy to describe. To celebrate completing each increasingly erotomaniacal phasm, he'd allow his mind to go there. He'd set his completed fantasy up on the e-mail screen and, at the moment of his own climax, launch it on its way. Sometimes his releases swept him so utterly, he'd lose consciousness and wake up hours later, collapsed in his comfy computer-room lounge-chair. Jack never completely understood it himself but the messages kept suggesting savvy explanations like his possible need to take or be taken at a level where all societal limitations were removed, where totally feral energies could emerge unfettered. Both takers and taken, according to the writer, experienced enormous self-exploration and insight during their ordeals. The ideas hit home; they stirred Jack to the point where the question of someday actually trying it, changed from "if" to "when." He troubled a long time before asking but finally brought up the idea of his possibly being allowed to be present at a photo session. There was no response to it during the following message exchanges but, after a couple of months, he was told of a secret "shoot" to be held in late summer at a very remote Oregon mountain site. And that, if he could be trusted not to reveal it, he might attend.
Jack had thought better of it by then and declined. But, after a few nights tossing and turning with his mind tormented by incredibly erotic images and a steel-hard cock pounding between his thighs, he sent a message that he'd changed his mind.
Because, according to his correspondent, some activities he might witness could be, as they put it, "sensitive," Jack's directions led only to the tiny Oregon town with instructions to ensure no one knew his whereabouts. Jack was careful to comply; he drove the eleven hours from his California home with his cock pressing so hard against his jeans he had to stop at a rest area and change into a pair of loose sweat pants so he could continue. But this morning's strange serenity had brought him back to earth, at least for the moment. Lacking the previous day's sensual intensity, he dressed normally and awaited Dirk's arrival almost indifferently. For the first time, he mentally totaled the cost of gas, the cheap motel, and how taking two "sick days" from his "time bank" at work would impact the amount of credit card interest he could afford to pay next month. And now that Dirk had revealed himself to be much coarser than he'd expected, Jack wondered whether he'd be able to reawaken his lust, no matter what unfolded at the "shoot."
"How long will the shoot go?" Jack said suddenly, shattering the silence and bringing an irritated scowl from Dirk. "I didn't bring anything for overnight and I just wondered-" "You won't need anything or I would have told you to bring it," Dirk snapped. He seemed to recognize his own rancorous behavior and paused. "Look," he said in a softer, far warmer voice, "It's not that big of a deal. We'll have some people tied up out there. We'll do our shooting and we'll leave." Dirk looked outside, then back at Jack. He smiled and took a breath. "Ever thought about…well, being part of it?" Jack didn't know how to react. "You mean tying someone up or-" "Or stripping them down for the camera," Dirk continued the thought, "or even being tied up yourself? How about doing a little-" "Torture?" Jack finished the question hesitatingly. "Don't be naïve." Dirk's voice sounded almost weary. "I read your messages."
It was what Jack was waiting to hear.
"So it was you and me talking back and forth all this time?" he bubbled.
"Wow, you don't seem like the same-"
"No, wasn't me," Dirk snapped. He stopped and waited nearly a full second.
"I just read some of 'em."
Jack felt betrayed. That his "privacy" had been violated, yes, but too he wondered how many others might have casually examined thoughts that suddenly seemed so personal. But he shook it off. His relatively short experience had amply demonstrated the medium's inherent tendency to openness. "Look," Dirk seemed to plead, "I'm just givin' ya the ride, OK? It's what I like ta do."
Dirk nodded to the floor beneath Jack's feet. Among the several crumpled fast-food bags and stained paper refuse, there was a small black binder. Jack picked it up and opened it. On the rings was a stack of color and black and white 8 X 10 photographs of people in different states of bondage and torture. Jack felt the blood rush to his loins as he leafed through, first quickly, then much more slowly.
These pictures were better than anything he'd seen: much more detailed and shockingly authentic. Tied men and women were shown being brutally stripped, then beaten, tortured, and taken in every conceivable manner. "Once you heat 'em up awhile, they get real moist and slippery," Dirk commented. "Then they're ready for you, no matter what you done to 'em." He noted Jack had stopped at a photo of an attractive girl with her wrists tied above her head. A tormentor's fingertips deepened the angry bite of metal nipple clips. Her chest and belly bore whip marks; her face showed both terror and pain.
"Ever thought about doin' someone like that,"
Jack sat and considered the words, feeling his cock pound. The picture held his eyes and mind. Deep inside, he sensed something that aroused and excited.
Then it struck him. Quickly he shuffled through several previous pages. These were enactments of some of the dream images he'd described in his messages! His jaw dropped and his entire body shuddered. Dirk couldn't miss it. "Yeah, I know you thought about it. 'Specially, them shots. That's why you're here. You want it and, know what?, most of the people you'll meet today'll want it too.
"It's like there's a point where it all turns to ecstasy and you go as far as you want with no holdin' back. And all they do is beg for more-until everybody's too tired to move."
Jack stared silently at the picture and felt a large drop of precum slide from his roots and soak into his underwear.
"I mean, you ever imagine takin' someone out somewhere like this, so far out no one'll ever bother you? Then you tie 'em up, strip 'em down, an' let go completely." Jack turned to look at Dirk.
"Completely." Dirk said again.
Jack turned the page to see a close-up of a female anus with a rivulet of sperm drooling from its stretched and lightly bruised orifice, then down along the perineum to collect in a large whitish droplet at the tip of a shaved clitoral hood.
He remembered this image. It was the end of a fantasy he created where the girl was bound over a large log and rammed from behind. He'd imagined himself doing it.
"Have you ever?" Dirk pursued.
Jack turned the page to find a photograph of two women, bodies draped across one another's, lying face down on a small mound of fresh green grass next to what appeared to be the edge of a fire. Welts, extensive whip marks, and bruises covered them; their wrists and ankles were either tied or bore rope-marks. A tiny trail of blood could be seen trickling from between the bottom one's thighs. The way the other girl lay-with her arm stretched out and the rope around her wrist lying in a line on the ground-suggested she was dragged and dumped there. For the first time, Jack's mind suggested these two might be dead.
"Well?!" Dirk demanded.
The question shattered Jack's concentration and, totally without thinking, he spurted, "Yes! Oh Christ, yes." Jack realized his voice might have sounded irritated and he immediately worried about angering someone like Dirk. Terror gushed, accompanied by feelings-deeply arousing ones-that remained obscured by a sensed, but unseen barrier. Jack envisioned Dirk dragging one of the pictured girls' lifeless bodies to toss it across the other one. Again, he shook off the surging emotions, refusing to let himself feel fear.
What remained was the arousal.
Jack drew a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. He closed the binder and opened it again. Two women were tied spread-eagled under a tree, impaled on what Jack knew to be carved wooden dildos on sticks cut to the correct height. Meanwhile, multiple cats 'o nine-tails reddened their entire bodies. He'd created this one too.
"Well, what if it all happened today? Ya like that thought, Jack-o?" Jack leaned his head back and nodded, unashamedly stroking the pounding bulge between his legs. He realized he'd begun shaking. Dirk smiled and switched on the radio as the truck topped a bald mountain summit. An FM radio station popped in loud and clear but, as the road took them below the crest, it fluttered to a white noise rush just as quickly. "Fuck!" Dirk grunted and switched it back off.
They'd traveled nearly an hour when Dirk slowed and turned onto a nearly invisible dirt road that quickly disappeared into dense trees. They drove several more miles through increasingly rough terrain and Dirk dropped into four-wheel-drive. They took one side-track, then another, then another, each smaller and more non-descript than the last. From Jack's own estimate, they'd come nearly twenty miles since leaving the pavement. All at once, Dirk drove the truck off the track and around the far edge of a large, dense thicket. Jack saw the tiny opening Dirk steered for. Bushes scraped along the vehicle's sides but it quickly burst into a huge, totally surrounded clearing. Dirk drove to the far edge, stopped, and shut off the engine. "Here we are," he announced.
Jack looked around desperately at the total desolation. Here and there, fixtures stood lashed together: bondage crosses, suspension frames, stakes, saw-horses made from logs. "Hey, where is everybody?" he asked with sudden suspicion and fear, "I thought you-" "C'mon," Dirk said, ignoring him and hopping out, "I wanna show ya somethin.'" He walked toward the back of the truck and Jack followed to find him lifting the camper shell's glass door. A high shelf occupied the entire bed to the height of the tailgate and, on top, camping gear and neatly arranged boxes of outdoor supplies covered the padded surface. Dirk reached inside and popped the latch that released the tailgate. It dropped to reveal a cabinet installed beneath the upper shelf. He opened it and Jack saw several rolled sleeping bags stacked across its width. Dirk smiled and pulled out the sleeping bags, tossing them onto the top shelf. The cabinet was only a foot or so deep and Dirk carefully slid his fingers into the bottom corners. With a click, the back released and he lifted the panel out. It was dark behind but Jack could see something large wrapped in a blanket lying on the pad covering the bed's floor. Dirk smiled once more and pulled the end out onto the tailgate. He removed the blanket. There were two pairs of female feet, one in tennis shoes with bare legs above, the other wore jeans and street shoes; one had worked off, leaving one foot bare; several turns of wide cotton rope bound each together at the ankles. Dirk grabbed the bare foot and pulled. It was a girl, wrists handcuffed together behind her back and she was gagged. Jack stood slack-jawed as Dirk sat her up and brushed disheveled dark blonde hair out of blue, fear-flooded eyes. "Whaddya think?" he asked, sampling the firmness of one of her breasts through her blouse. She appeared about twenty-five, neither plain nor striking. She wore a short-sleeved blouse, now dirty and wrinkled from the long ride. She reminded Jack of the countless photos he'd seen of girls who just "disappeared." Dirk pulled out the second girl and Jack's eyes widened. She looked possibly in her mid-thirties, her face wickedly attractive-perhaps seen only in the mind at the height of orgasm. Through mussed dark brown hair, powerful, hypnotic green eyes radiated. Even with the rolled gag between her full and perfectly shaped lips, it was obvious she lived life tormenting men with hauntingly sensual beauty. Her countenance struck Jack with a sense of lust that tingled to his very roots. He couldn't take his eyes off hers. Despite the fear, her eyes seethed desire and tremendous energy.
She was olive-skinned but not Hispanic. She wore a red tank top and tight, white shorts that came down to mid-thigh. They hugged her form like a second skin. Dirk stood her up and she struggled for balance; he steadied her by the shoulders and turned her around. "Nice ass, too," he remarked, running his fingertips over one of the full, well-formed globes. "Where-?" Jack finally blurted, totally shocked and just now finding the ability to speak.
"Gym parking lot," he answered, "I like to get 'em there. Usually nice and firm. Clean too." Dirk pushed her onto the tailgate. "C'mon," he continued, walking toward a wood-filled fire pit several feet away, "let's get started. Gimme that newspaper from the truck." He pointed to an open-topped box on the shelf.
Jack suddenly began trembling; his mind exploded with terror. "No, wait a minute!," he stammered, "you can't just-I mean this isn't- Where's everybody else?!"
"You said you wanted it, well now you got it!" Dirk returned in quick, angry steps. Standing close, his eyes menaced convincing promise of swift, powerful violence. He reached into the box himself and grabbed a handful of newspaper. He looked deep into Jack's eyes. "You said you wanted to see what it was like. You're gonna find out." His voice hissed. Utterly confused, Jack opened his mouth to protest but Dirk interrupted.
"Nuthin' you can do about it now-nuthin' you're gonna. Wanna walk out? Wanna make a 'citizen's arrest?'" Dirk stepped closer now and Jack found himself pressed against the side of the truck. "I think you better give me a hand here. I think you better," he said with unmistakable threat. He handed Jack the newspapers. "Now stuff these under that wood in the fire pit and get it lit." Dirk pressed a disposable lighter into Jack's hand and began digging into another box. "Do it!" he ordered. Trembling more than ever, Jack looked at the girls. They looked back in nearly hysterical terror. Jack felt pity, love, longing, and-most strangely-excitement. Trying not to think, he followed his instructions and flames soon began licking the sides of the two-foot diameter pit. "Now," he heard Dirk call out; Jack turned to reflexively catch the coil of rope he'd tossed. He nodded to the cleared area near the firepit. "Loop that over the branch and tie the end to the tree trunk." The rope had a hangman's noose at one end and Jack tossed it over a hefty overhead branch. He looked at Dirk who's eyes told him what he had to do. He adjusted the noose to the girl's approximate height and secured its end. Dirk moved to a nearby stump and sat down. He lit a cigarette, then pulled a zoom lens-equipped 35mm camera from a bag. "We're gonna unwrap the packages," he said calmly. He motioned Jack back to the dark-haired girl sitting on the tailgate. Jack walked over and stood quietly. "The shoes. Start with the shoes. Let's see 'er feet."
Jack pulled the lace and removed one of her tennis shoes, then the other. He slipped off her socks. Sharp whirrs from the motorized film advance followed each click of the camera in the background. The girl's bare feet were beautiful, pedicured, soft and delicate with long toes that curved in a gentle arc to form a smooth line along their tips.
"Like 'er feet, Jack?" Dirk asked. "Like a woman barefoot and ready for you?" Jack didn't answer. He'd never been so close to a woman this beautiful, let alone be sexual with her.
"Lick her toes, Jack," Dirk ordered, "get 'em inside your mouth-go on!" Jack knelt and drew her big toe and the first two into his mouth. He licked, pressing his tongue between them, following their shapes. He felt her shudder with the sensation and, in him, something about it kindled deep fires.
"Nibble a little now," Dirk told him, continuing to shoot. Jack's teeth bit down at the base of her second toe. He worked his way to its tip, then down the next. She trembled as he moved; he could sense it stirred her too.
"Bite hard now!" Dirk commanded, "Hard!"
Jack winced and complied. She squealed into the rolled gag across her mouth. Her legs flailed to escape. She squealed again and Jack struggled to hold on. In the strangest of ways, it felt good to do this; he slid his teeth to other toes and bit some more. Savagely, he moved to the other foot and attacked. Her toes pointed as if she enjoyed it and, suddenly, Jack felt his cock filling.
"OK, enough for now; they'll be plenty of time." Dirk interrupted. "Over by the fire. Here," he said, tossing a pocket knife. " Untie her ankles and get her over there."
Jack caught the knife, unfolded a blade, and cut the rope. Carefully, he stood her up. He looked at his red toothmarks at the base of her toes, then at her. She seemed to thank him with her eyes. He led her to the noose and put it around her neck. He tightened the rope and began to stand back. "Tighter!" came the barked command and Jack removed the slack from the knot on the tree trunk. The girl now stood on tiptoes, struggling for balance and breath.
"Jesus Christ!" Dirk exploded, "You a pussy or what!?"
Jack looked back bewildered.
"You gotta make it look real! Pictures ain't worth a shit if it ain't real. Christ!"
Storming, Dirk grabbed the other girl from the tailgate and dragged her by the upper arm toward a patch of grass next to the fire. Ankles tied, she struggled vainly to balance and wound up painfully towed, screaming, whimpering, and sobbing. He threw her down onto the soft green patch. Dirk tossed the camera to Jack. "See if you can get this right." He rolled her onto her back and brutally ripped apart the halves of her blouse. She screamed and he slapped her hard, knocking her head back against the ground, then proceeded to literally shred the light garment from her body. Dirk grabbed the front of her bra and jerked it up violently as he stood over her. It gave way with a pop and her now-bare torso bounced back hard onto the grass.
Dirk grabbed the ruined clothing and tossed it into the fire. He noted the single shoe she still wore, snatched it off and tossed into the flames as well. He sat, straddling her hips, playing with her breasts and pinching her nipples. "'At's my little girl," he seethed, "get used to your new lover, Dirk. Dirk's gonna have some fun with ya, yeah." He unbuttoned his shirt and shed it, revealing rings in both his nipples. Jack couldn't believe what he'd been shooting. But burning her clothes was something he didn't expect. He took the camera from his face and stood still. Dirk noticed the shocked look and walked away from the girl. She rolled over, sobbing uncontrollably.
He took Jack and hustled him over to the edge of a large firepit about fifty feet away. It looked perhaps five by eight feet and nearly six feet deep. From the abundance of crumbled charcoal scattered throughout the dusty brown dirt around its periphery, Jack could tell it was used on a regular basis.
"You didn't have to burn her clothes-" Jack finally protested. "I'm tryna make it easy for you, boy," Dirk told him gruffly. The two faced away from the captives. "When we're done with those two, they ain't gonna need no clothes."
Jack's jaw dropped and his heart froze. "You don't mean you're gonna-" Dirk's expression didn't change.
"NO!" Jack's voice came as a hoarse whisper. He began to turn and run but Dirk held him firmly.
Dirk continued as if Jack had said nothing. "We're gonna play with 'em for a few days-have some real fun, get lotsa good pictures. But we play with one a lot harder than the other-that 'n." Dirk motioned over his shoulder to the girl he'd begun to strip.
"After two, three days, she'll start wearin' out. Be pretty marked up anyway. We get, the coals ready," he nodded down to the firepit, "an' we eat good. We rest a little, recharge; then we start on the pretty one." Dirk fingered one of the rings in his nipples. "You'll be surprised," he said, absently enjoying the deep sensation, "how that pretty one'll catch on, once she sees what happens to her friend there. Always do." Jack's wide eyes drifted to the pit. Mounded nearly three feet above ground level, firewood as large as logs eight to ten inches in diameter filled it, along with lots of smaller sticks carefully packed in. At its bottom, Jack could see the color of old newspapers stuffed there to ignite the pile.
Jack fell deeper into shock. Rape and murder were horrific enough, but cannibalism! He struggled to speak. "You want to-? You're gonna-? Canni-?" Dirk grabbed Jack and wheeled him around to face the two victims. He held him by both arms and shook him with each point as he spoke close to his ear. "Think about it, boy! Think about those two over there. "Yeah, cannibalism!" Dirk snarled, confirming Jack's nascent, but horrifying, thought, "you betcha! Nuthin' makes it better! Nuthin'! "Think about it." Dirk's voice gathered excitement. "Think about some cannibal someplace. He's got himself somebody on some deserted island. An' he's got 'em all alone an' nobody's gonna stop 'im. Nobody. "Put yourself in his place for a second. Imagine you're him lookin' at those two."
Jack saw a South Seas island. The two sat tied, gagged, and struggling before a fire blazing in the background.
"You got 'em and you know how it hasta end. Ya know all the farther she's goin' is into the fire. Ya got everything ya need layin' right in front 'o ya. How important're them clothes now?"
Jack saw himself as the cannibal on the island. For the first time he thought out the whole process: capture through cooking-and what could happen in between.
"Maybe ya leave 'em gagged awhile," Dirk's voice continued from behind, "don't need to know who they are or nuthin' about 'em. Jus' take 'em. Take 'em jus' like ya want. Cuz' it's just gonna be you lookin' into them eyes that las' time."
Jack's island fantasies began with making love to them, then to letting himself take them more wildly, then brutally. But with the fire as the mandatory destination, he all at once realized he could do anything. All guilt vanished and his imagination unlocked. "No holdin' back" came the recollection of Dirk's words. It made sudden sense and gripped his loins like the sweetest fire. He shuddered and gasped audibly: the feeling-the sense of utter freedom-enraptured. And it was good! That strange, struggling sensation of inner arousal was this! It burst free and gushed into his consciousness.
He remembered the taste, the sensation of her toes in his mouth, then between his teeth-how she squealed and squirmed when he bit down hard. "This ain't civilization no more, boy; this's jus' like that island," Dirk told him. "Jus' you 'n me-'n them."
Jack's cock blazed with lust, squeezing painfully against his pants. He stared at the two women now. The dark-haired one looked back and her eye contact made Jack gasp once again.
"That'n likes you, Jack, I can tell," Dirk told him. "Only happens once in awhile. But I got 'er fer you anyway. Like 'em pretty like that? Ever wanna do a real pretty one?"
Jack let his eyes sweep upward from her beautiful bare feet, up shapely legs and trim body, to her face-and her eyes still waited. He swallowed hard and mindlessly stroked his pounding member through his jeans. "Ya gotta show 'em, Jack. Show 'em you're the owner. Take your clothes off, get naked. Do it now," Dirk prodded. He let go of Jack's arms. Jack nearly ripped his shirt getting out of it, then pulled off his shoes and socks. With a sweeping motion, he doffed both pants and underwear. He held his fully erect cock in his hand and it felt good. The crisp mountain air invigorated his new nakedness. He stroked a time or two and a large gob of crystal precum issued from his cockhead and rolled onto the back of his hand. He licked it off.
"Now, Jack, go finish strippin' down the first one," Dirk ordered, "Get 'er naked fer me. Go!"
Jack trotted back to where the first girl lay, followed by Dirk who grabbed the camera and began shooting.
Jack descended upon her and she shrieked into her gag. He rolled her onto her back and manhandled her breasts. She shrieked again and he slapped her. Wildly, he grabbed the material at the front of her jeans and ripped, strength multiplied ten-fold by a lust-induced adrenaline rush. His fingers had slipped beneath her panties and shredded them too. He looked down to see the top of her dark brown bush.
The sight drove him insane. He stood and jerked both garments down her thighs, pulling her torso nearly clear of the ground. The rags stopped at her bound ankles and Jack searched madly for some way to get them off. "Leave her!" came Dirk's shouted command. "Now the other one. Go. Go!"
He kept shooting pictures.
Panting, Jack stood before the dark-haired girl, suddenly lost in her eyes. Within fleeting microseconds, he saw himself loving her, married to her, holding her, fucking her. But could he brutalize her? "Go, goddamnit!" Dirk demanded. Jack shook free of the thoughts and dove back into madness.
He tugged at the tank top's bottom edge, trying vainly to open a tear point; it didn't work. He grabbed the top, between her breasts, and it yielded. The fabric split and, as violently as he could, he tore it in half, then began ripping the sides with his fingers. Soon he held several shards of red cloth and, all at once, realized she wore no bra. Firm, incredibly beautiful bare breasts with large nipples and dark brown areolae presented themselves inches from his face. Something about what he'd done-and now what he beheld-sent electric excitement through him. Jack felt his cock about to explode.
"Into the fire," Dirk shouted, sounding like a silent film director. Jack flung the ripped top onto flames that now had grown huge and healthy. "Play with her nipples," Dirk continued.
Jack toyed with the half-inch diameter buds, rolling them between his fingers and squeezing gently. He felt them enlarge and grow harder. She shuddered once more with the stimulation and Jack felt his cock begin pressing against his pants.
"Bite! Rough, goddamnit!" Dirk commanded. Jack's growing excitement drove his mouth to one breast while he kneaded the other forcefully with his other hand. "We're fifty miles from anyone and this is a rape-more than a rape. She's ours now, ours to use anyway we want. Let go, goddamnit!" Jack let go. He found himself delighted with her helpless screams and vain struggles. He bit hard and looked down to see her bare feet dancing wildly to maintain her balance. Yes! He could brutalize her! Rage from being rejected by so many just like her exploded. He wanted to ravish, to hurt, to inflict! His cock throbbed hard and erect now. "Now the shorts!" Dirk shouted, "Rip 'em off! Let's go! Hard! Fast! Go, goddamnit, I wanna see 'er cunt! Go! Go!!"
Jack seized the front of her shorts on either side of the button and ripped viciously. Jack worked madly, tearing down and away while Dirk shot and cheered.
"That's it," he goaded, "get 'em down and off! Go!"
Jack pulled the torn white garment down thighs and shapely calves, lifting her feet from the ground to get it off. Immediately, the noose tightened and she began choking and struggling to breathe. Now totally naked, she jumped up and down, desperately trying to loosen the noose. "Don't let her do that!" Dirk shouted. "Her life belongs to you now. Slap her! Straighten her out! Make her know who owns her-who's gonna fuck her! Do it!"
Jack slapped her face back and forth, harder and harder. In his mindless excitement, he reveled in the new, ecstatic sensation and slapped harder yet. She began to weave: lack of breath was taking its toll. She collapsed and fell limply against the rope.
His rage suddenly vanished, knowing she'd die if he didn't do anything. Love quickly filled the void. Jack caught her and loosed the noose. She came to in his arms and her eyes found his. They seized him and he kissed her, despite the gag. She responded, pressing her nakedness against him. He kissed harder.
"All right, that's enough!" Dirk commanded. He began rewinding the film.
Jack stood, panting and looking at the voluptuous flesh standing before him. Suddenly he saw her pubic area had been completely shaved and that a silky string of his precum stretched from his cockhead to her belly. The sight detonated uncontrollable excitement: He needed to have her now! He lifted her up and pressed his cock between her legs. Her pussy waited drenched and loose. He slid instantly to his balls. His eyes met hers and found energy beyond description. Jack felt his orgasm begin rising unstoppably from his depths. His mouth covered hers and they kissed. "Hey, I said that's good fer now!" Dirk shouted. With a jerk, he pulled Jack from her and drew him away. With Dirk holding his arms held behind his back, Jack saw his steel-hard, glistening cock sway back and forth. Jack felt something cool on one wrist, then the other. Handcuffs! Dirk forced him to the ground and sat on his legs while he tied his ankles together.
"What're you doin'?!!" Jack screamed. "I thought we-" Jack's sentence was cut off by Dirk covering his mouth with a strip of three-inch wide adhesive tape.
Dirk dragged him to a tree near the first girl and sat him against it. He drew a large hunting knife and cut the torn jeans from her ankles, then went to the truck. Digging inside the hidden compartment, he found her other shoe and a woman's purse. He collected Jack's shoes and clothing then put it all into a bag which he tossed next to the girl. Dirk went to the dark-haired girl and took the noose from around her neck, then sat her on the stump. He removed her gag and handcuffs, then knelt before her.
"You've done well," she said, "he pleases me."
"Did he warm you in the way you desired?" Dirk asked, eyes to the ground.
"It was most pleasurable," she told him, "you prepared him well."
"Yes, my mistress," Dirk said softly. He bent down and kissed her feet.
"This slave is grateful to serve you well."
"Take your reward, my slave, before we begin."
Dirk backed away, then stood and turned around. He walked to the girl. She'd rolled back onto her stomach with her hands still cuffed behind her back. Dirk slipped the toe of his boot under her hip and rolled her over. She looked up as he straddled her, afraid to meet his eyes. "Ooh," he whispered, "your lover Dirk's got you now, don't 'e?" Dirk slid off a boot; he wore no sock. He dropped it onto her belly, listening to her gasp with the impact. Then he removed the other one and did the same. With a bare foot, he swept away the boots. "Oh, since I ain't wearin' socks, I bet yer' wonderin'…" He released his belt.
"Good guess," he mocked, opening his trousers to reveal he wore no underwear either. His pubic area was clean-shaven and, in the glans of his swollen eight-inch cock, he wore a thick Prince Albert ring. Her eyes grew to saucers.
He squatted down next to her and played the flat edge of the huge hunting knife across her torso. "Honey." Dirk stated as a single word. "Yep, Honey; 'at's what I'll call you now." He dumped out the bag and picked up her purse. Her eyes moved to it. "But maybe let's see who you really are?" "Lesson One," he told her, looking deep into her eyes: "Don't matter." He dropped the unopened purse into the flames. "You're Honey now an' that's all anybody's ever gonna know." Dirk slid the knife over her body, circling her breasts, then down to her bush.
"Lesson Two," he said, grabbing a hank of her pubic hair and holding tightly, "is you belong to me forever now." Dirk took his knife and sliced off the hairs. He let them trickle down onto the flames and seemed to relish the sounds of their sizzling immolation.
"An' this one?" Dirk nodded to Jack sitting a few feet away. "You 'n him get to explore some stuff only a few people ever get to." He toyed through the contents he'd spilled from the bag and began tossing them into the fire, beginning with Jack's pants and her remaining shoe. "If you're smart," Dirk's eyes moved to Jack's, letting him know this message was for him too, "you'll come along. It's your only chance now. Your only chance." He rolled her over and pulled her up onto her knees. He nested her buttocks against his now-hard cock. Dirk lubed himself, then slid into her ass. Jack watched her toes point and heard her anguished gasps. He fucked ever more violently, clearly enjoying himself and focusing upon his pleasures alone. Jack saw Dirk was about to come and he wondered what would happen then.
But Dirk stopped short; he pulled out of her and got up. He walked to Jack, cock still hard and glistening with slippery lube. "What I been waitin' for all day," he exclaimed, pulling Jack up by the hair and tossing him belly down across the girl's breathless torso. Jack felt the cock against his ass, then inside-all the way. He screamed and Dirk fucked.
"Just a little change in plans," Dirk teased cruelly, "you'll pleasure us till the time's right and then everything goes just like I tol' you." "Remember what I said about no holdin' back? Yeah! I like 'em so much when they're still fresh!" Dirk whispered through clenched teeth as his tool worked to its hilt. He wrapped a hand around Jack's throat, and lifted him off the girl. With his other hand, Dirk toyed brutally with Jack's nipple. "Nope, no holdin' back. Jus' gonna let myself loose inside you right now. Over and over. Plenty o' time. Just think about it. Anything I wanna do to you.
"Mmm, I feel it now," Dirk moaned, "gonna let go-cum in your ass-then string you up and we'll play a long long time. We'll get our pictures, sure as hell. And no one will ever see you again, 'cept in the same kinda' shots that brought you here.
"Oh yeah! Yeah!!" Dirk's strokes grew wild.
Suddenly, a sharp crack and a powerful shockwave ripped Jack's body-as if someone had kicked him hard. Then another. Dirk's body grew heavy, crushing Jack against the girl beneath. He went limp then all was still. Beneath in the instant silence, the girl sobbed softly into her gag.
Jack strained to see what had happened. His ears rang and he felt dizzy.
Something warm ran down his shoulder where Dirk's head rested next to his.
Jack stretched his neck to see. It was blood!
Bare feet stepped into his face-down field of view. It was the dark-haired girl! Jack detected the residual odor of gunpowder about the same time Dirk's body slid back and onto the ground. She'd shot Dirk! He was saved!! It was over!! He saw himself in the Thursday meeting at work and it felt wonderful. He knew now he'd been fated to have this fabulous woman for his own. Forever.
"Roll him over," he heard her say.
Hands rolled him over. He saw Dirk lying in the dirt with eyes distant; the blood running from his nose and mouth had picked up dark fragments of dirt and bark that stuck to it. He saw her feet once again and swept his eyes upward, gushing thanks and lustful affection. He saw the gun in her hand. He felt blood rushing back to his cock and, in that fractional second, saw himself making tender, wonderful love to her. But his gaze found something entirely unexpected. Still naked, she'd donned a black leather fetish corset with a central split, criss-crossed by chains. It supported her perfect breasts and ended seductively above her hips with her shaven cunt just visible. Two other women, similarly, but less aggressively dressed stood on either side of her. Jack's eyes widened and he gasped.
Rings had been inserted in both her nipples and, as Jack's eyes continued upward, he was shocked to see she wore a leather mask that gave her face a strange, fierce and primitive dimension. Her eyes-those irresistible eyes-burned into his. Fingers removed the tape across his mouth. She held a black leather whip and used its handle as a probe to run over his torso. She found his cock-now hard and hungry. She stepped over his body and positioned her cunt above his glans and slid herself onto him. Jack's heart stopped. Wonderful, wet, tingling warmth enveloped him. He felt sheer power as her muscular sex drew him inside. Surges of orgasm began rising again despite the fact she didn't move. "I grew weary of Dirk," she said. Jack began to reply but quickly realized she spoke to someone else. "I like this new one; I like his mind. I have for months," she said. She moved her hips ever so little. Jack found himself instantly on the brink of climax.
"I-I love you," Jack heard himself whisper in a hope for her attention.
She looked down.
She smiled and let her eyes consume him a long moment. She played her vaginal muscles in tiny cycles. Jack's mind caught fire. "I know you do," she said, lifting his chin with the knob at the end of her whip's handle. "I know you do." She kissed him deeply. Jack felt his world explode into a universe of passion.
As if her mind occupied his, she slid from him in such a way as to bring him to within femtoinches of explosion. Her clean-shaven cunt stood inches above his pounding glans and an agonizing spurt of crystal clear precum jetted to slicken nothing. He gasped and sobbed simultaneously. "Bring him to me in awhile," she said, looking away, "after he's warmed up." Jack's eyes saw for the first time the two men and three other women standing nearby. All were naked and wore various ritual garb. Two more had taken the other captive and were busy tying her to a bondage cross at the clearing's edge.
The two men dragged Dirk by the ankles toward the mound near the large cooking pit. Suddenly, Jack recognized it from the photograph he'd seen in the truck: the one with the two women lying on it. Meanwhile, smoke had begun to rise from the pit's depths.
"We permit Dirk this final opportunity to serve us," the dark-haired girl announced. Jack saw all hung on every word she uttered. "But this one," she said nodding back at him, "this one will entertain us a long long time." Suddenly, one of the women approached with a set of nipple clamps and the other with a cat o' nine-tails. Jack stared after the dark-haired girl as her perfect buttocks swayed away from where he lay. Something gripped his nipple and turned white hot. His mouth opened wide to scream a mindless scream but a solid ball filled it.
"Look here," a voice beckoned and Jack turned with eyes insane. He saw the lens of a camera, heard a click, then a hood dropped over his eyes.
OK, that's it. Take care,
D