Chapter 2
I was stark naked from my fuck session with Luke as they hauled me into the boat. I have always been considered a very well-stacked number, and the light glistening off my white wet skin, lingering on my titties, and delectable looking pussy made even these three low-lifes whistle in appreciation. I played possum to give me time to think and see what they had in mind.
It didn't take me long to realize what they had in mind was the worst kind of rape -the no exit for she-who-gets-humped type.
"I'm glad you didn't plug her," said the one called Vern. "She sure is a nice piece of twat. No reason why the three of us can't have a little screw with this here blonde as soon as her bush gets dry!"
"Yeah," chimed in cutthroat number two, called Jake, "there's enough nooky here for the three of us, and then some."
Number three, called Newt, was already fiddling around with my nipples and cackled, "after we're through fuckin' lemme operate on her and get them diamonds outta her gut, huh fellas?"
So these jokers were planning to have some free screwing and then they were going to let the would-be surgeon of the group work on me to slit my slit all the way up to my breastbone with his hunting knife. It looked like any kind of deal was out. After which I lay real limp pretending to be unconscious until I heard the boat grate on the sand of the river bank. Then two of them picked me up and tossed me ashore like I was a sack of flour or something.
I landed on the ground, which fortunately was soft -though not all that soft -with a horrible thud right on my behind and so hard I rolled over a couple of times. Then I opened one eye just a little and saw that all three of them were busy hauling the boat up onto the river bank.
So I didn't waste any more time pretending to be unconscious -I just scrambled to my feet so fast you'd have thought I'd been lying on a redhot stove lid and took off naked through the woods.
I heard a yell and then another yell and then two shots real close together and I felt the wind of a bullet as it zipped past my waist. I kept right on running. I sort of zig-zagged as best I could without slowing down, but believe me I didn't take time to make a real production out of it. I mean, I don't even look like Superwoman. Which is probably just as well for her, come to think of it. But while I was thinking about things like that, with my flying feet paddling like crazy over the turf, I ran head-on into the cliff behind the bushes.
This stopped me. I bounced back a few feet, landing on my shapely rump, and looked the situation over.
The cliff I was up against was maybe fifteen or twenty feet high, and so smooth I didn't have a chance of climbing it.
Well, maybe a tiny chance, if I'd had several hours to climb it in. But I wasn't about to find out, seeing how the cliff was jet black in color and I'm kind of milky white all over when I'm naked, as I was then. If I'd been fool enough to start climbing I'd have been an easy target.
They wouldn't have had to use their rifles they could have just thrown rocks at me until they knocked me off the face of the cliff. And then zip, they'd cut me open from my cunny on up.
I shuddered. All over. Then I ducked down behind a bush to see what I could see. What I could see wasn't very encouraging. I could see all three of them, about twenty yards away, creeping toward me with their knives gleaming in the moonlight.
"See her, Vern" called Jake.
"Not yet," Vern called back. "But we'll get the little cocksucker, don't worry."
"Yeah," said Newt. "Say, where do you suppose she and that skindiver punk got them diamonds, Vern?"
"Where do you think?" snarled Vern. "Them's those smuggled stones that got lost in the river five years back. They must've found that plane that crashed. Half a million bucks them diamonds supposed to be worth. Half a million bucks!"
The one to his right kind of snickered and said, "Well, that's five hundred thousand reasons for open ing up that little whore's body!"
I swallowed hard. All the same, I couldn't resist patting myself quietly but fondly on the stomach. I mean, it isn't every day a girl's stomach is worth half a million dollars.
Right then a tiny cloud sort of scudded across the moon and for just a moment it got real dark.
"Hold it!" one of them yelled. "That's her over behind that bush!"
I scrunched down even lower. But it was okay. When the moon came out again I could see they were all looking off to their left. Then one of them stooped and picked up a rock and flung it. I could hear it crash into a bush some ways off.
"Nah," said the one who'd thrown the rock. "You're just seein' things."
Which was when I got an idea. I began feeling around my feet for rocks, and pretty soon I found a round stone just about the size of a tennis ball. I picked it®up and held it tight in my right hand, my throwing hand, and waited.
Then, when another little cloud passed over the moon, I threw the stone just as hard as I could off to my left. I heard it crash into some bushes, and the noise it made you'd think ten buffalo were charging through the brush.
"Over there!" yelled one of them, and when the moon came out again I could see them stalking along in single file toward where I'd thrown the rock.
I waited until the last one in line was right opposite me, and then I picked up another big round stone and stood up and wound up real careful and then let fly right at his head.
When I was a real young girl, like two or three years ago, I used to be awful keen on baseball and I practiced pitching for hours and hours. Which was a darn good thing, because the guy I'd thrown the rock at was maybe forty or fifty feet away, and a man's head isn't all that good a target fifty feet away at night.
All the same I hit it. Or him, rather, I hit him smack in the side of his head and even fifty feet away I could hear his head go scrunch! and saw him stand there kind of wavering for a moment and then fall flat on his face like he was a chopped down tree.
Notwithstanding all the noise the guy I hit made having his head scrunched in and falling on his face, the two creeps in front didn't even turn around. Most likely they just figured he was shoving his way through a bush or something.
Maybe two seconds later I was out from behind my bush and sprinting toward the guy I'd killed going as fast as I could, only this time going around the bushes in my path so as to make as little noise as possible.
What I was after, of course, was his rifle. Maybe you think this was real brave of me, and that's what any normal girl would have done then was turn and run like hell in the opposite direction.
Well, it's kind of tempting to let you go on thinking that I'm just naturally a real brave girl, but the truth of the matter is I'm a real coward when it comes to danger. Me being in danger, that is.
However, I'm also not really what you'd call a normal girl, by which I'm a thinking-type girl, notwithstanding I don't have much formal education. And during those two seconds that passed after that creep had fallen dead on his face, I thought harder and faster than I'd ever thought before.
What I thought about was all the things I might do, and after I got through thinking two seconds' worth I realized that the dumbest thing I could do was get up and start running away. Like, the other two guys would hear me for sure, and then they'd find I'd killed their buddy, and that would make them so mad they'd start blazing away with their rifles no matter if it did bring the law down on them. And in just about no time I'd be a dead duckling, full of bullet-holes.
No, no matter how tempting it was to cut and run, I realized that the only safe thing I could do was neutralize the two creeps who were still alive. And the best and most satisfying way to do that was to kill them both dead.
I reached the body of the one I'd killed without making any noise, and as good luck would have it his rifle had fallen free of his shoulder when he'd hit the ground. It was a 30.06, which was real fortunate, on account of this was a gun I'd learned to shoot.
I flicked the safety catch off and raised the gun, crouching on one knee on account of that's the position I like to shoot best from and then, just for kicks, I yelled, "No! No -don't stick your knife in my pussy and -AHHHGGG!"
The two creeps I had in my sights spun around. "You get her?" they both yelled.
And I yelled back, "Yeah, he got me, right in my asshole. I'm dead as a mackerel." And with that I took up the slack on the trigger and shot one of the rats right through the heart.
It was real pretty. He flung up his arms just like guys do in the movies when they get killed, and then he sort of whirled around and flopped on his face.
The other one tried to get his own gun off his shoulder but I worked the pump and fired and worked the pump again and fired again before he had a chance to aim.
That time I didn't shoot so well, though seeing as how it was night and he was wriggling so I guess I can't be blamed too much. Anyhow, I missed him clean with the first shot and smashed his right shoulder with the second, and that was enough.
He dropped his rifle and fell to his knees, his left arm shooting right up in the air. "I give up!" he yelled. "Don't shoot, I give up!"
I pumped the gun again and walked toward him. It was the one the others called Vern, the one who'd suggested they bring me ashore so's they could play with me before they ripped me open.
I tell you, it sure did my heart good to see him cringing before me on his knees, his eyes kind of rolling with fear and sweat popping out all over his forehead. I walked right up to him so's the muzzle of the gun was only about two feet from his face and said, "Beg. Beg for mercy."
He swallowed real hard, kind of grimacing from the pain of his smashed shoulder, his left hand still pointed toward the moon, and said, "Please don't kill me! Please don't I -I don't want to die!"
What a laugh, I mean, who does want to die? Nobody, of course. And it was sure obvious he didn't want to die, what with his face all chalk white and pasty in the moonlight and cold sweat dripping off him and his damn eyes rolling.
"Beg harder," I told him. "Convince me."
"But -but -I mean -listen, you can't kill me!" he babbled. You -you just can't!"
Get that. I couldn't kill him. Why? On account of he didn't want me to kill him. That's why. That's all, I should say. A hell of a reason that was. Seeing as how he'd been itching to "play" with me before cutting my precious pussy open while still alive.
"Creeps like you," I told him, "give me a real pain in the ass. It's okay for you to torture some poor chick like me just because I'm a chick and defenseless and all that. But you don't figure chicks have a right to get sadistic and make you suffer. Oh no. Convince me some more."
"No!" he squeaked. "No, you can't kill me, you -you -" And then he stopped talking and started blubbering. Honest to God. A big grown man like him crying like a little baby. "Please don't kill me," he snivelled. "I wouldn't have hurt you. Honest. I'd have just -just -"
"Yeah," I said. "You'd have just cut me open from my twat to my titties for the fun of it, that's what you'd have done. "I raised the rifle and aimed.
"No!" he squeaked. "No, you can't kill me!"
I pulled the trigger.
"Well I'll be damned," I told him. "Maybe I can't kill you after all. Seems like all I did that time was damn near shoot off your left arm. Clumsy me.
Vern didn't say anything. He just rolled on the ground, kind of squealing and moaning. I aimed again, and fired again.
"Darn," I said, "Missed your heart again, didn't I? Guess I just shot your kneecap all to pieces, didn't I? Aren't I clumsy? Of course, you got to excuse me on account of I'm only a young girl, and everybody knows young girls don't know how to shoot. Isn't that right?"
"Tsk, tsk," I said. "Got your cock and ball-bag that time, didn't I? Do you suppose a big strong sadistic man like you would mind giving me some lessons on how to shoot? No, I guess you've got your mind on other things haven't you?"
Vern didn't make any coherent reply. He just flopped around making gasping sounds.
So I pumped and fired again.
"Where did I hit you that time?" I asked real sweetly. "Oh, is up your asshole where I hit you? Right where a big strong man like you would least like to be hit with a rifle bullet. Bet it hurt something awful, didn't it? Bet it hurt just as much as it'd have hurt my cunny to get ripped open by your hunting knife. What's that? Speak up man, don't just roll around gurgling. Want me to shoot you there again?"
He didn't say anything I could understand, so I decided he wanted me to shoot him there again. So I did.
He didn't seem at all thankful. And then the kind of red haze of hate that had been fogging my brain seemed to ebb a little. Also I realized that, enjoyable though it was, I couldn't stand around shooting bits and pieces off Vern all night. So I pumped the last shell into the rifle I held and said, "Open wide, Vern," and shoved the muzzle right into his mouth, knocking out several of his teeth in the process. Then I pulled the trigger.
That finished him. And then some.
I dropped the gun after that and just stood there swaying, feeling sick at first -and then feeling real elated when I realized I'd made Vern suffer the way he'd intended me to suffer.
So.
So I guess you figure that makes me some kind of a monster or something.
Well. I just ran over in my mind what those three shit-eating hillbillies Vern, Jake and Newt had been planning for me. When I came to, I was going to have to suck off Vern first. While Newt held his knife to my belly so I wouldn't try any funny stuff. They were going to make me work on Vern's filthy asshole with my mouth and tongue. And remember these yokels don't even know what toilet paper is!
"Ain't had it that way since I was down in New Orleans five years ago," Vern had said.
Jake had plans after Vern was through that involved an unusual rear-end approach on my helpless rectum while I would be lying on my stomach.
"Haw," Newt guffawed after hearing what Jake had in mind, "don't go spoilin' my fun by making them diamonds pop outta her mouth!"
All Newt had scheduled was a good old-fashioned conventional cunt rape when his buddies had finished their fun and games on my naked, helpless self. Then of course, he was going to make a very sharp incision without an anesthetic, from which I wasn't going to recover.
No, on thinking it over, I Dee Dee Summers had no reason to have even a twinge of conscience over the fate of those three twerps.