Chapter 6
"Cindy. Cinnddeeeeee . . . Oh God, Cindee-ee . . . answer me!" The last two Words snapped out with unconscious anger.
Jed had stumbled about the woods for a day and a half, struggling with both backpacks despite the biting ache in his tender shoulders where the bear cub had ribboned his back, delighting in its innocent frolic as would a three-year-old child drawing pictures with a stick in the sand. Fortunately his face was unscathed, for in playing dead he'd protected his good looks with upheld arms. His leg pained him most. Underneath the Ace bandage his kneecap was a swollen mass of throbbing flesh, blackened like a rotten apple.
"Cinddeeeee!" His voice grew hoarser until his cries came out in strangled pleas that he didn't recognize as his own voice.
Horrified, his stomach knotting, he'd seen Cindy's hovering shadow as the mother bear reared up on hind legs and charged after her. Even now the sound of Cindy's bloodcurdling screams echoed in his ear drums, frightening as the drumbeat of an Indian warrior on the war path.
The bear was not a Grizzly, that he knew. Either Cindy had outwitted the bear or the beast had mauled her and dragged her bleeding body down to his den to finish her off. No . . . bears weren't carnivorous. Oh shit, what did he know?
"Sorry, Mrs. Weinstein, but I came home without your daughter. A bear attacked our campsite and ate your daughter. OH, me? Oh, I'm just fine. A few scratches, that's all. . . "
Cripes, how could he explain this to Cindy's parents?
Weakened but too distraught to eat, Jed slipped the twin backpacks from his sore, sweat-soaked back and collapsed on the ground, hating himself for daring a fragile young lady out into the wilds and subjecting her to dangers he was too cowardly to believe existed. With gut-wrenching fear, he asked himself what he'd been trying to prove by driving her beyond her strength, snapping at her just complaints, playing Cochise to swell his ego and prove his bloated machismo that was so damned precious to him . . . for without it he couldn't justify bashing in heads out on the football field. Latently, he was probably a wife beater, too.
Jed buried his face in his hands and wept. "Cindy . . . oh God, Cindy . . . come back. Don't be dead."
It wasn't her mother's chicken soup but it stayed down. Cindy fell languidly back on the pillow, staring into the snappy eyes of the blonde woman sitting at her bedside stirring to cool the soup, her red talon fingertips clutching at the spoon. A hawkish quality in this woman's bewildering character seemed grossly incongruous with her soft palms that rubbed ointments into bruises and raised the hem of her nightgown to massage the aching muscles in her back. Today, like yesterday, Cindy's insistence on calling the ranger station was quickly aborted in curt finality.
"No, darling. You're not well enough to leave us yet. The telephone.. . Oh, this is our retreat, baby . . . we don't have one. We'll take you into town in a couple of days. Jed? Now why would you want to find him after he left you alone up there?"
Now, over the yellow shimmer of chicken broth making its way to her mouth, Cindy eyed the woman curiously, her wide brown eyes moving from the heart-shaped widow's peak, down over the straight satiny forehead and high cheekbones to her thin-lipped smile. The smell of fine perfume wafted from this woman's deeply shadowed cleavage pinched together in a plunging-necked day dress whose scarlet hue matched perfectly the glossy lipstick and nail polish she wore. Why all the frills in the middle of the woods?
It was not out of motherly concern that Cindy was denied clearance to wander about the cabin, that she knew. The woman's cloying possessiveness dominated Cindy's spirit, squelching the fight within her. For two days Zelda incubated her, monitoring every footstep, and so Cindy eyed the invitation cynically:
"The color is coming back to your cheeks, dear. You do feel well enough to join us for a drink by the fire tonight, don't you?"
Cindy batted her dark eyelashes in bewilderment, too suspicious to know what questions to ask.
"My guests would love to meet you and all of us together would have a wonderful time," she said in a calculated tone that ate at Cindy's consciousness like the scrape of fingernails on a chalk board. This woman reeked with the casual assurance of the affluent and, although her figure was stunningly preserved, Cindy guessed she must be in her late thirties.
Zelda's gimlet eyes lifted from the spoon and bored into Cindy's with such a strange light the embarrassed girl quickly looked toward the window.
"Well. . . ? "
"Yes . . . I guess . . . I could." Immediately her eyebrows arched. "And tomorrow I will contact the ranger station and find Jed."
"Of course," came the too hasty answer.
The soft yellow afternoon sunlight gave way to murky shadows, the raw ceiling beams creating guillotine-shaped shadows on the eggshell walls of Cindy's bedroom. Outside muffled laughter and the biting smell of cigarette smoke seeping under the door gave her an uncomfortable, trapped feeling. Cindy's eyes popped open as they focused on the turning doorknob.
Zelda swooped in, obviously dressed for company. Heavy dark eye shadow and thick mascara gave her eyes a bewitching glint, and her soft unnaturally blonde hair fell languidly over the shoulders of a royal purple Indian sari. The smell of her perfume reached Cindy before Zelda's hand did.
"Darling, I've brought you a dress," she said, bending over until her heavy breasts nearly spilled out and brushing her soft palm over Cindy's forehead. "Our guests are dying to meet you. We'll see you soon?"
No invitation, this . . . a flat command.
I'll stay in bed she's going to say I'm too weak to contact the ranger station about Jed, reasoned Cindy, flipping back the sheet and touching her toes to the thick carpet. In one swoop she pulled the nightie off over her head, her milky breasts straining to swollen fullness as she raised her arms. Cynically, she picked up the offered day dress and held it up to her naked body, bending her leg and holding it out to test the length. The yellow nylon gown's empire "waist hugged her rib cage, pushing out her full breasts adding whatever inches she felt nature had cheated her of, and mashing them together like two half-inflated balloons. The soft maze gave Cindy's chocolate-brown eyes a softer glow and deepened her wheat tan.
Chatting and laughter stopped in mid-breath and sixteen eyes turned anticipatorily. Cindy wanted to fade into the woodwork, shrink away from their suggestively prying eyes. In a rustle of purple silk clinging to Zelda's generous curves, she reached Cindy and draped her arm tightly around Cindy's shoulders, holding her in a clutch.
"Darling, I want you to meet Sonia and Guy Greenley. And you know my husband. Everyone . . . this is Cindy."
Cindy stood clumsily holding her hands in front, feeling foolishly, conspicuously tongue-tied. Zelda did that to her-made her feel ill at ease with herself.
"Ready to party with us?" The words came from Paul Comstock, a slick magazine whiskey ad type in Cindy's summation. Something depraved and hungering about his too sleek, too perfect features sent involuntary shivers of repulsion through Cindy's teen-age flesh. More disquieting still, he was eyeing the other man's wife with more than casual interest.
Tension crackled in the room as Sonia Greenley, a dark-haired cheap version of Marilyn Monroe, snickered at Paul's invitation while gazing back at him with smoldering covetous eyes. Cindy withered inside knowing these people were silently communicating in a physically suggestive manner their impression of her. She wanted to shrivel up and die. Only her mother's staunch etiquette training refrained her from lifting up her skirt and making a mad dash for the door.
Sonia Greeley raised her champagne glass in a toast. "To our new party favor," she smirked, closing her succulent red lips over the fragile crystal rim while flashing a seductive smile at Zelda's husband. Sonia was slender and sinuous, sleek and panther-like with her deep tan and long black hair. The strawberry tips of her swollen breasts peeked out like bumble bees from the flowered print of her thin voile dress. Flagrantly sexy in a coquettish way, she was the diametrical opposite of blonde haired blatantly lustful Zelda. Zelda the lion, Sonia the kitten.
The rich raising brocade of Paul's smoking jacket shimmered in the firelight as he rose from the couch and sauntered over to the bar where he pulled the champagne bottle from the silver ice bucket and made the rounds, offering a fresh glass to Cindy.
"I don't drink, thank you," murmured Cindy.
"Drink it, darling," ordered Zelda. "It'll build your stamina." She slinked over to the sofa and sat down in a gust of purple silk, then patted the soft leather beside her.
"Come sit by me, Cindy angel. Doesn't she look adorable?"
The teenager blushed, feeling like an animal caught in a steely trap. Zelda's every motion and word carried a surreptitious demand that shattered all illusion of generosity. Despite her hesitancy, Cindy obeyed, sitting on the sofa next to the arm, clutching it to avoid the heated presence of the blonde vampire whose hot breath seemed to burn Cindy's flushed cheeks. She sipped the bubbly and wrinkled her nose, sucking in her breath as a tingle of heat exploded in her unexpecting stomach. Desperate for distraction, she sipped eagerly, feeling awkward and uneasy as the two older couples stared at her with unsettling interest, running their eyes up and down her plumply curved young body. Even the women! Something perfidiously twisted was going on this room and she wanted none of it.
Zelda's long slender arm reached out to encircle Cindy's shoulders, drawing her closer, her red talon fingernails digging into Cindy's tender skin with vampirical insistence. A cold shudder, repulsive as a dead snake, wiggled up her spine and a growing sense of dread choked in her throat.
Still, how could she fear these people when they had taken her in and nursed her back to health? Don't be duped, she told herself. They want something. I can feel it.. . Head-on she confronted them with her suspicions.
"I don't know how to thank you enough," she blurted out to Zelda, aware that the woman's fingers had slinked down from her shoulders to her breast bone and were playing lightly over the swollen mounds of her breasts.
"You will, darling," returned Zelda in a husky smile, licking her lips. "Believe me, you will."
The conversation moved to the Dow Jones Industrial Average and after learning that Paul Comstock was a financial consultant who'd made his millions during the Viet Nam 'conflict', it became explainable why Sonia Greenley was flaunting her provocative body at Paul. She was a social climber of the undefeatable sort, the driving force behind her husband. And her bumps and grinds in Mr. Comstock's direction didn't ruffle Zelda's feathers in the least; she watched in cool amusement.
Then to Cindy's shocked amazement her round brown eyes turned pale at the sight of Paul's fingers darting to Sonia's smooth fleshed thigh to slowly caress her there, edging upward beneath the hem of her dress. Zelda's husband and Guy's wife casually stretched out on their backs on the bear skin rug, facing each other, oblivious to the others as Paul's hand rubbed higher up in the silken fleshy thighs while the dark haired kitten mewled and fondled the bulge in the crotch of his black silk pajamas.
Their total lack of discretion baffled Cindy. Cheeks blazing with embarrassment, the dark haired Skokie girl reared on family togetherness couldn't take her eyes off this x-rated movie. Sonia's pouty lips were parted and her hips ground against Paul's hand disappearing in groping ripples up beneath her dress. From the teeth gritting smirk on Sonia's face, one didn't have to be a genius to see he was squeezing and fondling her pubic mound, and to add to the nineteen year old virgin's horror, she could clearly see the banana-sized bulge straining at Paul's pants, a dark wet circle sopping the tip where Sonia caressed the rubbery cockhead.
"I.. . I.. . think I'll.. . go back to my room now," Cindy whispered to Zelda who sat beside her with a mocking smile, watching the couple on the rug with an intense gleam in her eyes. Cindy was sickened by Zelda's unflinching reaction and when she glanced at Sonia's timid husband, her jaw fell slack. He too seemed immensely excited as he watched his own wife squirm her hips while another man finger fucked Sonia through her panties!
"I.. . I'm not feeling . . . very well," stammered Cindy.
"Of course you do, darling. Tomorrow we have to call the ranger station, remember?" Zelda added in a throaty voice, resting her fingers on Cindy's soft thigh, staring down at the deep cleavage of her firm breasts with a mongering hunger that made Cindy clasp her throat.
Their eyes, glassy and vacuous, were all staring at her unblinkingly like a scene from a psycho horror movie . . . even Paul and Sonia who were still stroking each other's genitals. The metallic taste of fear rose in Cindy's throat as she glanced nervously at each of their faces; they watched her like a helpless rabbit in a cage, and their eyes were so blatantly, demonically, lustful that Cindy began to tremble with rising dread. Her startled brown eyes dropped to the soft rug beneath her feet, and the gaping steel jaws of the bear stared up at her with its glassy eyes, she let out a frightened whimper. These people were no less threatening than the angry bear responsible for driving her to their doorstep.. .as if the Comstock and that bear had made a pact to get that nineteen year old virgin from Skokie!
For the first time Cindy saw these people for what they were. How could Zelda be so calm, even amused, while her husband obscenely fondled another man's wife only a few feet away? And Guy, too, seemed almost feverishly aroused at the disgusting sight of his own wife stroking another man's penis while Paul rammed his fingers into her vagina. Who Js Afraid of Virginia Wolf was child's play compared to the psychological games going on right here before her startled eyes.
But the terrified girl's terror was rooted deeper in the electrifying air of suspense hanging like a pregnant cloud in the room, an aura of impending violence that made Cindy want to leap up and flee before their infectious lewdity tainted her too. Like a seeping green foul smelling ooze it rotted the post-card view of the mountains. The howling wind outside bluntly reminded Cindy she had nowhere to go. Summoning the firmest voice she could muster, she said:
"I don't know why you're all looking at me like that-but please, stop it! I've gone though a lot of pain lately, and I don't feel well . . . I'll . . . I'll go to my room and leave you alone."
Zelda broke the silence with a coarse laugh, her red talons cruelly squeezing the tender flesh of Cindy's thigh.
"Don't be silly, honey! We invited you out here to share with us. We're all stuck here in these lonely mountains for another three days, so we might as well get acquainted. And I have to remind you that I did save your life. Weren't you telling us yesterday how grateful you were? Well, a gorgeous young thing like you ought to be able to manage a debt like that. . . Jesus, your cunt is hot!"
With a cry of horror, Cindy suddenly became aware that the blonde woman's fingers had slid unnoticed up under the hem of her dress while she'd talked, so adroitly that the startled virgin paralyzed with shock conceded unprotestingly to Zelda's finger-massage rubbing her pubic mound through her sheer panties.
With a cry of disgust, Cindy flung Zelda's hand away and flailed her head from side to side, hearing her own timid voice crack with fear:
"Don't touch me! Please, please leave me alone . . . all of you. I don't care what you do, just don't.. . touch me!"
The girl's brown eyed pleading trailed off as the four of them glanced at each other, passing a silent message that Cindy could smell, even through her fear. Her tears caught in her throat but her panting breasts betrayed her panic and the air of tension in the cabin become suffocating. Determinedly, she stood up from the couch and advanced two steps toward the door, winding her way through the tangle of arms and legs on the bear skin rug where Paul and Sonia pawed at each other.
"Hhhggghhhhh . . . ! " Cindy sucked in her breath as Paul's hand struck out and grasped her slender ankle.
"Where you going, honey? Stay and enjoy the party."
Cindy glared down at him, her fear constricted throat threatening to gag her. Dear God . . . I'm trapped with four sex maniacs! All of them are sex perverts! It s a nightmare . . . its got to be!
The eyes were upon her again, four pairs of demonic beacons. Sonia reared up on her knees, a crooked smirk crossing her rouged lips as one delicate hand reached up with the unmistakable intent of fondling her breasts. Cindy shrunk away, cowering back on the couch beside Zelda who laughed amusedly. Now the trembling brunette was hemmed in by both women and Cindy knew in that split second of scorching reality that something shocking and forbidden was about to happen. She was victim to agonizing suspense and her own terrified emotions. Like rattlesnakes ready to strike, their gimlet eyes watched her every movement, and Cindy knew that any provocation on her part could trigger their violence . . . giving them the chance to sink their teeth into her tender virginal flesh and poison her with their obscene venom. Their clutching hands were something out of a horror movie and Cindy, in a burst of hysteria, made a mad scrambled on all fours.
The females flung themselves on her in the blink of an eye, flinging her over on her back on the bear skin rug and pinning her shoulders down brutally, Zelda's face hovering over Cindy's, a sadistic smirk showing the white line of her teeth.
"Get some ropes!" Zelda snapped at her husband, then smiled mockingly down at the sobbing brunette. "Don't worry, sugar, we won't hurt you," Zelda purred, her mouth so close to Cindy's she could nearly taste the liquor on her breath. "We're going to play a little game with you. I happen to enjoy inventing games, and I know of a juicy one for a doll like you. Mmmmmm.. . . " she added in a hoarse Bette Davis whisper, "I can't wait to suck those angel titties!"
The vulgar promise sparked a fury of resistance in Cindy and she made one last ditch effort to wrench herself free, but the two women held her shoulders firmly crushed to the rug, laughing at Cindy's sobs.
"Oh, Cindy," Zelda chuckled, shaking her blonde head, "when we get through with you, darling, you're going to be begging for it. You're going to crawl on your hands and knees and beg me to let you eat my pussy, my angel. You're going to lick my asshole and love it because you're going to be my ultimate triumph, my Jewish princess!"
Zelda's face was so close to Cindy's their lips nearly touched. "I'm going to turn you on so hot, sweetheart, you're going to become a wild animal, a magnificent fucking machine . . . you're going to be my masterpiece, and believe me, I've had my share."
The terror-stricken virgin stared up at Zelda's lust-contorted face with chilling fascination and for a long moment Cindy's quivering body froze. She was mad! Zelda was rich, beautiful, bored and insane with lust. She, Cindy, was a pawn in this woman's chess game.
"Don't hurt me," sobbed Cindy. "Please.. . I'm only nineteen . . . I'm a virgin! I've never had sex. OH, God, let me go!"
"A virgin!" Zelda echoed, her dark eyes widening in astonishment. "Do you hear that, gang? She's a virgin! Sweet mother of screwing, we've struck gold in these hills. Oh, baby, are you in for the time of your life.
Where the hell is that rope?"
The moment Paul Comstock loomed into view holding a long coil of rope, the whimpering girl went into a hysteria of kicking and screaming that took all four of them to subdue.
"You guys take her wrists and we'll strip her from the top," panted Sonia, her eyes wild with lust. "I want to see what that itty, bitty cherry looks like," she giggled flirtatiously.
Clenching her eyes shut, Cindy fought with every fiber of her strength, but the four of them easily overpowered her. The men held her arms above her head while Zelda worked up the hem of her gown. Her tan face crimson with humiliation, Cindy moaned in terror as one of the men held both her wrists and the other pinned her ankles. The sobbing virgin felt her gown being slid up over her futilely writhing hips, Zelda's husky words ringing in her ears.
"Oh Mother of God, she's going to be a honey. Even with her panties on she's sexy enough to eat right now! You're going to have your hands full fucking this gorgeous animal, boys. She's a feast-look at those thighs and her pussy hair peeking out around her panties. Paul, God, I could almost cum right now just thinking about you sticking your prick inside her hot little pussy . . . and a cherry, too, darling. Your wife is good to you, baby!"
The smutty words deepened Cindy's shame and panic, but already she could feel the weakness in her arms and legs stealing her energy. "Acuihhhnnnnoooo!" She felt warm hands yanking at her panties, pulling them down, exposing her black silken pussy curls and the pink slit of her defenseless vagina, but she couldn't deny a very faint thrill of pride at their glowing comments, even in her humiliating torment.
"Tight and juicy for sure," Paul rasped. "Hope I can wiggle my cock in that tiny slit."
"She is gorgeous . . . all pink and wet and hot.. . " put in Guy, kneeling at her head and clasping his wiry fingers over Cindy's wrists and squeezing until her fingers turned white.
"She'll taste like honey." Zelda licked her lips. "God, I wish I could suck those pussy lips right now!"
"Why not?" Guy asked dully, his ruddy complexion growing redder still under the effort.
"Because my game has rules," snapped Zelda glaring at her house guest with curt disdain. "I said she'd beg for it, and she will . . . I don't care if it takes until next winter. When we get done with her she'll crawl like a dog for sex, she'll go down on every one of us with tears of joy in her eyes, she'll fuck like a sex-starved nympho on Spanish fly. When I finish with her she'll swing that tight little ass like a Catholic rabbit.. . and she'll beg to get raped back there, too."
"Never!" hissed Cindy, opening her tear-filled eyes, feeling a furious surge of pride and dignity. She knew the conviction of her morals and they weren't about to rot in the face of these threats. "You'll never make me do that," the helplessly bound virgin swore, wriggling her soft creamy flesh in a feeble struggle. "You can tear my fingernails out and make me eat bamboo . . . but never . . . never will I grovel like a dog!"
Zelda threw back her head and laughed tauntingly as she lifted the sari above her knees and sat on her haunches enabling her to rub the girl's yielding belly flesh with her long painted fingertips. "Honey, if there's one thing I love, it's a woman with spirit. Too damn many simpering bitches in this world," she said, glaring at Sonia out of the corner of her eye. "Lock the doors, fellas, our party favor is about to jump out of the cake."
The men went about their work under Zelda's strict directives, and in seconds the doors and windows were secured and Cindy was securely tied down by her wrists and ankles, the ropes anchored to heavy furniture. Like some hapless animal ready to be butchered, Cindy lay with her arms and legs stretched out, her vulnerable thighs spread wide, her delicate pink cuntal lips fully exposed between their dark-curled fringes, her palpitating breasts tipped with succulent rosebud nipples flushed deeply. Elephant tears scalded down her flushed cheeks. Cindy cried softly, her eyes still closed.
"She's beautiful," Guy muttered greedily. "Man, I've got to fuck those tits!"
Zelda was quick to rebuke. "I said my game had rules, idiot! Nobody . . . not even Paul, moves until given permission. Is that understood, Guy?"
A pall of silence fell over the room broken only by the muffled sobbing of their victim and the whipping mountain night winds. Now and then the Palomino bayed at the moon.
Paul nodded, his blood-filled cock pulsing painfully against the crotch of his silk lounging pajamas. "That's right. Her rules or nothing." His eyes fell down at the spread-eagled teenage girl, changing the direction of everyone's attention.
"Now that we have that settled," Zelda said sitting on her haunches and massaging Cindy's smoothly rippling stomach, "get out the champagne, Paul, and let's toast to our virgin sacrifice."
"Only, darling," smirked Paul, "if I can have her ass when she begs for it."
On the fur rug Cindy listened with but a fraction of her shocked mind to their sultry conversation. The bear chase was nothing compared to the fear and sense of impending doom she experienced now. Animals maimed out of fear, never for sport, but these two-legged beasts would not stop until they had mauled her femininity, torn her hymen and ravished her anus. The mountains suddenly loomed sacred and civil compared to the demonic, bestial evil about to burst in this lushly furnished cabin.
The soft bear fur under her naked body caressed her flesh in an ironic reminder that she had survived the perils of nature's wilds, but could she survive the psychological and physical torture about to be inflicted upon her by those of her own kind? Zelda suffered a psychological affliction common to the rich: a psychological boredom whose conclusion bordered on sexual cannibalism. And Cindy was another statistic, another trophy to her depraved victory. Their obscene promises had already sent her imagination whirling in terror while she could almost feel a massively throbbing penis ramming deep into her virginal vagina in one long scorching thrust, or battering her tiny unstretched anus, making her cry out in anguish. But never, never would she surrender her pride and grovel and beg. They could rape her in every hole in her body with their voracious lips and tongues and fingers as well as their cocks, but they could never reduce her to their depraved level, never transform her innate dignity so that she became a whimpering animal begging for raw pleasure. No, sex was more sacred than that. Mamma had said so . . .
"Never!" Cindy whispered aloud as the four of them drank a mocking toast over her nakedly shivering flesh, cold dribbles of champagne pooling on her belly and the creamy valley of her cleavage.