Chapter 7
Janice lay on the narrow cot in the prison cell of her sleeping compartment, the stuffiness nearly overwhelming her. Her ravished young body ached under the sheet. She'd been given an old shirt and a pair of men's underwear. Perhaps to add to her humiliation?
Her head throbbed and ached with a tortured rhythm that recalled the terrifying events of the hours before to her; the sawing into her now widely stretched cuntal passage, the hard thrusting of the young man called Hank's huge, rock-hard penis grinding up into her helplessly quivering vaginal passage. Tears welled up in her blue eyes and straggled down her cheeks. Oh, it was unbearable to think that she, Janice Meredith Quincy, shortly to be Charles Edward Tarrington III's wife, had been debased and defiled in the most humiliating way by a heroin smuggler when Charles, whose wife she was to have been, and respected her virginity, had demanded nothing of her that she was not willing to give-had, in fact, demanded even less than she would have given. And now she had been degraded at the hands of nothing more than a common criminal.
She could never face Charles again. He would need only look at her face to know the terrible guilt she harbored. And Charles would never he able to forgive her.
And why should he? For he would know that even though she'd struggled, terrified, that in the end she had submitted willingly. Yes, she was vile, and yet her gratification had been so intense that she regretted nothing. She was not fit, she knew now, to be the wife to a fine man like Charles, to be the mother of his children. No decent man would ever want her knowing that her belly had been filled with another man's hotly scalding sperm. She turned her face to the wall and sobbed.
When Janice heard the door open softly, she shuddered, waiting for Hank's laughter, his rough voice mocking her again. Instead, she heard Lisa asking quietly, "Are you okay?"
Janice lifted her head and shifted in the bed, her body aching agonizingly as she pulled herself painfully to a sitting position. Lisa came close and held a glass to her. "I brought you some whiskey," she said. "Thought you might need it."
Janice took the glass and drained it. It was warm and soothing going down, and she smiled gratefully at Lisa who offered her another glass which she accepted and drank. When she had finished it, her mind dazed slightly, Lisa seated herself on the side of the narrow bed, putting an arm around her. Slowly, tenderly, she began to stroke Janice's shoulder as she spoke, lulling the broken young girl into a soft sleep-like state.
"That no good Hank!" she began after a few moments of slow, hypnotic caressing. "He's been out there bragging to Theo and Gunnar about fucking you. Said you were begging for it, too!" She half-whispered, offering Janice her sympathy, and her fingers slipped under the loose shirt Janice wore, and eased the fabric down, slipping the shirt partially off, fully exposing one firm, lush breast. "Men!" she tutted in Janice's ear, as she began to stroke the lovely rounded semi-sphere with a soft movement. "You can't trust them two feet."
With her other hand, Lisa unbuttoned Janice's blouse, drew it off her and dropped it on the floor. "Now women are different. A woman can give you something . . . warmth, tenderness. Men . . . nothing!" There was anger in her voice. "Men care about men and that's it! Isn't that right, Janice?"
Janice mumbled, too surprised, too weakened by the whiskey and her earlier ordeal to speak, as Lisa's fingers trailed lightly over first one breast and then the other, gently teased the nipples into a taut erection, then slipped lightly down over the smooth white skin of Janice's belly, itching for more. Janice instinctively crossed her legs, pressing her thighs tight together to prevent any new ravishment of her vagina. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she saw that Lisa was stripping her own clothes off, working awkwardly with one hand while she continued to caress Janice, teasing her nipples once again into hard little knobs.
"It's different, isn't it, Jan?" she murmured softly, her breath excited and heavy with passion. Without waiting for an answer, she drew the young girl to her, pressing her own nude body next to Janice's. Her pointed breasts crushed against Janice's, their nipples meeting, as Lisa's hand moved down the soft flesh of Janice's stomach underneath the elastic waistband of the jockey shorts she wore to the luxuriously tangled triangle of silken hair that graced her vagina. "Oh, Jan," she murmured, "You're so beautiful. I can make you happy. Not the way Hank did, but in a soft way."
Janice's head seemed to swim in helpless confusion, and she let it fall on the girl's shoulder, resting in the hollows of her neck, letting Lisa cradle it between her shoulders and her chin. She had no idea of what was happening. She'd heard of scandals in boarding schools. Daisy chains . . . wasn't that what they called them? She'd thought it idle rumor . . . vicious talk. But now it was happening to her, and Janice felt strangely relaxed and peaceful, as if she were a small child, cradled in the arms of a loving mother, and at the same time, she felt like the most desirable woman in the world, responding to a strong man.
With a strong but gentle hand, Lisa cupped Janice's chin and raised her face to the level of her own. Her full lips brushed Janice's as if by accident, then returned, pressing them close. Her tongue darted out, expertly parting Janice's lips, easing between them, searching and finding the woman's tongue, while Janice let out little gasps of shocked delight. She was aware of Lisa's hands roaming over her body, aware that the girl was playing in some way with the clothes she still wore, and then, as she felt the cotton of the men's jockey shorts drawn slowly down over her hips and thighs and a cool breeze waft across her body, she realized she was lying stark naked next to a woman.
She closed her eyes again, as Lisa held her tight, her own body rubbing against Janice's, her thighs curled around Janice's body, clasping it tight to hers while she moved slowly down on Janice until her dark curly pubic hair mingled with Janice's honey-colored strands. Janice felt a tiny thrill of pleasure rip through her, even as her alcohol-dimmed mind flickered warning signs of slight revulsion at the perverted attack on her naked flesh. With a shudder, she realized that Lisa's hand was caressing her buttocks, gently at first, then parting the softness of the twin mounds until her fingertip teased into the tiny puckered mouth of her anus, shocking her again, yet delighting her too.
She moaned faintly, then collapsed back quietly as Lisa suddenly twisted around, moving her head sideways and down to the trembling white flesh of Janice's thighs. Lisa began to kiss the tender skin there, making the sensitive nerve ends quiver with that strange, wonderful excitement Janice had felt so recently, under Hank's forced attack. As Janice moaned again, her legs falling open, Lisa's lips wandered to the tingling little triangle between her thighs, moved down to it, searching out the fleshy lips, the soft hair-lined slit of Janice's pussy. Her pink, pointed tongue parted the cuntal lips, licked slowly and hotly at the moist pulsating hole, then explored the narrow slit until it found the tiny pink bud of her clitoris.
The tantalizing touch of Lisa's tongue was sending new waves of lust crashing through Janice's receptive body, while her brain reeled with a dull horror of what was happening. Good, God, but it was wonderful! Janice thought, and yet she found herself longing to fight off this further assault against her once pure body. Yet she was powerless under the delicious ravishment of her loins, and could only mewl with pleasure as she submitted, one more, to an overpowering sexual stimulation.
Janice, through her involuntarily rising passion, was dimly aware of agitated noises somewhere off in the other part of the train car. Sometimes she heard an excited voice shouting orders to one person or another; sometimes she heard obscene words hurled. At other times she heard a loud speaker, but she couldn't understand the language they spoke; though she knew it concerned her kidnapping. Luckily, her kidnappers spoke English and she heard them translate the word 'police'. Once she roused herself enough from the wildly pleasurable sensations that engulfed her down between her open thighs to comprehend the fact that the police had surrounded the train. But the importance of the news faded before the erotic sensations that fanned her body.
She lay still again, thrilling to the excitement that rose almost to the bursting point in her now drenched, hotly pulsing pussy. So intent was she that the sound of Hank, calling from outside their cabin door made no impression on her at all. It was only when the door burst open and Hank's voice broke the silence that Janice remembered where she was and how she came to be there. His voice soared with a tinge of panic as he began to explain the latest developments. The negotiations had begun. Janice Meredith Quincy for freedom and an escort out of Amsterdam; but the police weren't about to settle on such flimsy terms. What about Ti Wong? charged the negotiators. We can't let you get away with this, or how many other heroin smugglers and criminals will try kidnapping hostages? His words stopped brusquely as he gazed in amazement at the sight before him. "My God!" he exclaimed. "I never would have believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes."
Lisa raised her head from the soft curling triangle of Janice's slowly grinding little pussy, recognizing Hank with a cry of anger. "What the hell do you want?"
A lewd, lecherous grin spread across Hank's face. "Just what you're getting," he said coolly, striding briskly the two steps to the bed. With a vicious gesture, he yanked Lisa from her position above Janice's prostrate body, tossing her to the floor as if she were a discarded newspaper.
"Let me at that!" he said, with a short, coarse sneer that sent shivers shooting up Janice's spine.
In an instant Lisa was on her feet. "Why aren't you out there bargaining with the police? How the hell do you expect us to get out of this mess if you spend all your time fucking this poor woman!"
"Oh?" Hank said laconically. "And you?"
"That's different. She wanted it."
A groan of protest escaped Janice's lips. "No.. . I didn't . . . really, I didn't!" she howled.
Hank grinned at her maliciously. "Then let's see if you want this, baby," he said with an arrogant sneer.
Janice noticed with a shock of renewed fear the bulge in Hank's pants, knew, somehow, that he had been watching her own lascivious performance with Lisa for a long time, that it had excited him, and that now he would force her to submit to being fucked by him right before Lisa, who crouched whimpering in a corner. He stood over her, the sneer still twisting his mouth, enjoying her anguish while Janice cowered her nakedness down against the mattress as if she might somehow burrow her way into it. She closed her eyes and felt the scalding tear course down her cheek. Blinded, she groped for the blanket that had covered her before. Where was it! And her clothes. The shirt and those horrid men's jockey shorts, that Lisa must have stripped from her! They must be there somewhere!
A sudden movement startled her, and her eyelids fluttered open. She uttered a shrill, half-muffled cry as she saw Hank standing only inches from her pillowed head. He gave a brief, short laugh, then with a sudden movement jerked his zipped fly open. A second later he had reached it to bring the fleshy hard rod close to Janice's mouth. "Ever sucked cock, baby?" he demanded lewdly, with the young naked woman cringed at the crude words he had uttered as if she had been struck with a clenched fist.
Wide-eyed, paralyzed with fear, she watched him straddle her naked breasts, pinning her arms to her sides with his knees and saw the blood-swollen head of Hank's penis thrust forward and press wetly against her tightly clenched lips.
"Come on! I need something to relax me!" He grinned and lewdly reached down with his thumb and forefinger and pinched the nostrils of her finely chiseled little nose tightly together until she couldn't breathe.
"Mmmmmmph! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-mmmmmph!" Janice groaned desperately, trying to hold her breath as long as she could so she wouldn't be forced to open her mouth.
"Come on, open up and get a little fresh air . . . and a big bite of cock!" he laughed cruelly, watching her desperately twisting face slowly turning a bright crimson from the desperate struggle not to breathe.
And finally, her lungs burning from lack of oxygen, her lips popped open wide, sucking in great gulps of air.
"Oh ho, now you want a little cock!" he mocked above her and then he shoved it into her helplessly gasping mouth, ramming it down deep inside, until it seemed to brush all the way back against her tonsils. Janice gagged and fought wildly to force out the rock-hard length that filled her mouth so cruelly. She moved her head from side to side, struggling helplessly, gasping for breath. My God! She would suffocate . . . she would die!
Viciously, Hank grasped Janice's head in both hands and pulled it forward, as Janice broke free just long enough to suck in more of the cool fresh air, filling her lungs, panting with relief. Then the grinning young man's lust-hardened pole sank deep into her mouth again . . . in . . . in up to the hilt, and the short, wiry hair around his organ grazed and tickled Janice's lips, while his sperm-filled balls slapped lewdly down against her chin. Now he began to fuck in and out of her widely ovaled mouth with long, quick strokes, and strangely, partly due to the alcohol, and partly due to a rising tide of masochistic acceptance to the lewd, debasing act she was forced to perform, Janice began to feel a whirling tide of unwanted passion again rising in her that took hold of her body, leaving her helpless to fight against this obscene cock stretching her lips. Without looking, she knew that Lisa was watching her, despising her and Hank, and the thought added a new thrill of perverted pleasure. Chills of excitement were beginning to whip up and down her spine, little sparks of ecstatic joy seemed to explode, fluttering like butterflies in her stomach. With a terrible shame, and yet an undeniable pride, she felt the sticky moistness seeping more fluidly between her now wide-spread legs, felt the warmth of it suddenly hotly flooding her pussy. The old ache and desire between her legs had renewed itself.
Oh God! How wonderful and horrible it was! Wicked and evil though it might be, it was wonderful, too, and now she, with a moan, abandoned herself to the delight of the lewd, cock-sucking act she was performing, running her tongue back and forth over the sensitive surface of Hank's huge prick, teasing the tiny slit in its tip, licking the drops of sticky fluid that oozed from it, tasting it, savoring it as he jerked his hips forward and fucked deep down inside the saliva-filled cavern of her mouth, withdrew to plunge in again.
Now Janice's lust distorted brain brushed aside all rational thought of her lewd position, and gave herself up completely to the ecstasy of being fucked in the mouth, of actually sucking a man off. No, she'd never sucked cock before, she thought hazily, remembering Hank's question a few short minutes before. And now it seemed she could never get enough of swollen penis down her throat. She couldn't bear to wait for him to shoot his cream-white sperm, filling her mouth with the pungent male liquid, pouring it down her throat, letting it flood out over her lips, dribbling down her chin while she moaned and thrashed in lustful bliss below him.
Madly, insanely now, Janice sucked on and on, her cheeks of their own volition contracting, tightening around the fleshy staff that moved in and out between her tight, pursed lips. And then suddenly Hank's body above her was seized with a violent, wild spasm, and his abruptly jerking testicles sent the eagerly welcomed stream of thin, milky sperm gushing warmly into her tightly locked mouth, welling up and over her pursed young lips like a flowing fountain of half whipped cream. Janice gulped to swallow every precious sweet drop, her throat constricting and relaxing alternately, hungrily, like a famished child sucking at its mother's breast. Close to satiation, her brain deranged with passion, she licked and swished her tongue hotly around the now slowly deflating penis, clinging possessively to it with her elastically ovaled lips in a last desperate effort to prolong the joy for another moment. At last Hank pulled away from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound, and reeled backwards, a thin, glistening strand of his sperm following him away and across the firmly rounded mounds of her naked breasts as Janice's exhausted head sank heavily down onto the pillow once more.
Just before she closed her eyes, she caught sight of Lisa edging towards the door, her face livid with fury at Janice's betrayal of her. Janice smiled to herself. At least now the records were set straight. She was no dyke.
Janice was drifting off to sleep when she heard Theo translate the Dutch broadcast to his comrades, mostly for the benefit of Lisa who did not speak the language.
She strained her ears, and once or twice caught her own name. Struggling to her feet, she crept to the metal door of her prison and put her ear to it. Slowly, she began to fit the pieces together.
The police had moved in on all sides now, surrounding the train car with guns. Negotiations were being made between the heroin smugglers and the Minister of Justice who, at this time, had refused to grant them amnesty in exchange for the American girl, claiming that a precedent was being set here, one the tiny country could not afford to uphold for its own safety. How many other criminals would trade a kidnapped hostage for freedom? was the ethical question that was being argued.
Oh, my Lord, Charles! In her lewd sexual pleasure Janice Quincy had all but forgotten about her fiancé. Now she dared not think of him or how he would react if he ever found out about what had just happened between she and Hank. Why had she allowed herself to sink to such despicable depths of depravity? With a sob, she collapsed back down on the bed, burying her face in the pillow.