Chapter 9
Bob Carlson turned ashen green when the helicopter slashed through the rain storm, its skeletal frame shuddering grotesquely. Before him sat Lieutenant Samuels, conversing heatedly with the pilot. Snatches of their conversation enlightened Bob as to the Lieutenant's hot-to-sniff enthusiasm over plunking the auto thief, Speedy, and his renegades behind bars, and he shuddered to think that his wife's abduction was just one more feather in Samuels' cap. The position of Chief of Police was vacating soon, and if Samuels could crack the North Dallas burglaries ring ... hail the new chief!
That kind of back door politicking disgusted Bob who stared shakenly down through the haze of abating winds and rain to the slender ribbon of a highway where an occasional red smear announced a lonely trafficker. Jill ... down there kidnapped. It wasn't possible. Oh, Jesus, it had to be a mistake! For the hundredth time, he thought of Janie and a sickening sensation made him dizzy with self-loathing.
The radio crackled and the Lieutenant grabbed for it. "Over...."
"Black van sighted heading west of Clovis toward Melrose. Reported having no license plates ... no citation given."
Lieutenant Samuels soured. "Contact the New Mexico Highway Patrol for lookout ... and tell the bastards to quit playin' hide and seek and bust their asses." He hung up the mouthpiece. "Incompetent sonsofbitches."
Weakness set in like laziness on a hot August afternoon. Jill crumpled to the sofa, her eyes two swollen slits from crying and pounding on the steel door that only echoed mockingly in her ears. The insides of her mouth were scathed and cracked from the dehydration of drugs and riding day and night through a scorching desert with nothing to quench her thirst. Desperately, she brandished her flashlight until its light reflected the beer cans' faint yellow glimmer. With a thankful whimper, she popped one open. Her delicate features scrunched up at the taste of the tepid beer swashing down her throat, but she gulped down the rest, little trickles of brew dribbling down her dimpled chin to dampen her gossamer nightie.
"AHHHHH ... to swallow again!" The alcohol's sweetly numbing effect relaxed her fear-exhausted body, but did nothing to quiet her tortured mind.
Now is when she needed those sleeping pills to help her cope. But no, even those little angels of mercy had betrayed her. Everything had betrayed her ... Bob included. She must cope, face reality. She couldn't live in those bad memories surrounding her grandfather's death forever.
Bob ... he would be home by now, finding his home torn apart with no furniture, no wife! The tears gushed in self-pity. He must never discover that she had been raped in the mouth ... or he would kill her for having fallen to such disgusting depths.
Oh, this was all her own fault! Spite was a tool of the devil, all right ... in wanting to hurt Bob she had hurt herself. She should have called the police the second that phony repairman left. But retrospect was useless as a plug nickle.
Her eyes were still blurry from the sleeping pills and her ears buzzed as if enshrouded in a horde of mosquitoes ... and she slept.
The night was hard and dark with the moon rising late and high in a navy blue sky. Occasionally a coyote howled to the moon while the desert predators lurked the cooling sands.
Inside the Big Sleep Motel, the whirr of the air conditioner and Speedy's walrus-sized snores cut the silence. Pete lay awake, feeling the dizzying effects of a half bottle of Jack Daniels while a slow steady ache built in his gonads. He lifted his wrist and checked the time. Good ... one fourty-five. He slid out of the sagging bed, grabbed his bottle by the neck, shoved his .38 in his belt, and stalked off for the bathroom, keeping a wary eye on Charlie who, like the desert night creatures, slept with one eye open.
Noiselessly, he closed the bathroom door, pulled the lightcord and used the toilet, then pushed open the bathroom window. A layer of stucco chipped away as he slid through, head first to land on top of a discarded rusty bedspring. The gravel crunched under his feet as he stole around the motel to the truck. Lifting the safety bar, he pushed it open a crack and jumped in.
The truck had cooled considerably to a comfortable degree. His penlight cast a dime-sized beam that traced its way to the sofa. In a grunting lunge, he threw himself down on the sofa, pinning her arms to her sides.
Jills' scream died as fast as it erupted.
"Shuddup, bitch! You got me in enough trouble already."
Shit, he didn't want to threaten her, but circumstances left him no choice.
Oh, God, he's going to kill me for sure! Her mind rebelled and her body stiffened as she felt his hands touch her quivering body. The thought of having this sweaty dirty man lying on top of her small, nearly naked body crushing and ravaging her as he heaped obscene perversions on her made her struggle harder in his arms. But he held her without effort, lowering his head to hers and locking his mouth to her lips. Jill gasped, twisting her head, trying to spit, holding her breath as she felt the rising hardness of his penis pressing through his pants against her own unexplainably heated genitals. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, fighting against him, trying to bite his lips and claw out his eyes ... but the soft pressure of this thumb and forefinger flicking teasingly against her nipple brought a traitorous moan of pleasure from her, and the slow grinding of his penis against the flatness of her belly was eroding her steely resistance.
Jill Carlson couldn't let this happen to her! Mustering up strength, she twisted her head to the side and flung it around, spitting in his face. Pete Parker didn't take that effront kindly.
"Little bitch! You need some alcohol to cool you down!" Pinning her down with his body, he fumbled around unscrewing the bottle of Jack Daniels which he wedged in between her lips and upended. Jill sputtered and coughed, trying to spit the burning alcohol out of her mouth, but most of it found its way down her throat. "Cunt ... that oughta loosen you up!"
It did. Jill felt as though her insides were frozen and a warm numbing feeling encompassed her, taking the gusto out of her kick and scratch.
"God, you're built, baby," Pete grunted. "This is one fuck I'm gonna enjoy." Reaching down between them, he pulled his gun loose from his belt and clunked it down on the floor. Quickly the hand shot back between them and Jill's body jerked stiffly as she felt hot sweaty fingers in searing contact with the softness of her naked thigh. An electrifying shock rippled along her legs as the fingers slipped slowly up underneath the shimmer of red to dip into the sensitive slit of her cunt and gently thrust into it, parting the honey pubic curls and making a sudden delicious contact with the tiny throbbing bud of her clitoris. Jill clenched her teeth, holding back a groan of lewdly rising pleasure.
There was more movement to the side of them, and suddenly the floodlight flashlight snapped on, temporarily blinding her.
"Too goddamned dark in here. I gotta see what I'm fucking...."
Immediately his tongue probed back into her whiskey soaked mouth and she jerked, half in fight, half in passion, the hopelessness of her situation adding to the excitement.
Charlie had never trusted Pete Parker. The man was too cunning, too selfish and too easily distracted. Now, as Charlie swung his legs over the edge of the squeaky bed, Speedy woke with a start.
"Hey ... we in Hawaii?"
"Stupid ass ... we're in New Mexico. Get dressed." He stooped over, picked up Speedy's clothes and tossed them at him. "Get your gun ... Parker split."
The night was chilly in the desert, and Speedy hunkered up against the biting air as the two men stalked out to the truck. The slivered streak of light emanating from the air vents and the muffled female cries told Charlie everything he wanted to know.
"I warned the sonofabitch," he muttered, as with drawn gun he jumped into the truck and pointed his .38 square between Pete's fearfully arched eyebrows.
"Oh shit...." Pete squinted against the flashlight's blinding beam and fumbled around on the floor for his .38, but as he reached for it, Charlie's foot clamped it to the floor.
The thin man glowered down at Pete who lay still, his body pinning the whimpering blonde to the sofa, stifled sobs bubbling from her throat. "You've done it this time, asshole," snorted Charlie, gnashing his teeth. "I warned you I wasn't gonna take no kidnap wrap just so's you could knock off a hunk a pussy!"
The cold silence was cut by a sudden intrusion.
The truck listed complainingly as Speedy stepped into it. Like a bull in a china shop he knocked over lamps and banged into tables trying to fight his way to the center of the action. When he stepped into the circle of light he sucked in his breath and snickered obscenely, a ripple of his brown belly peeking out between popped buttons. "Jesus Christ, Charlie, will you look at that?" The islander stared dumbfoundedly into Jill's saucered blue eyes. "Ain' she a doll?" He licked his livery lips.
"Yeah ... and this little doll is gonna die in a second."
Jill wilted and closed her eyes, waiting for the gun's blast. Good-bye Bob ... I'm sorry ... Oh God, I'm sorry....
"You ain't gonna kill 'er before we fuck her?" Speedy was incredulous. "If I'm goin' to jail for kidnappin', I wanna get me some pussy first!"
Charlie looked at Speedy, then at Pete, down at Jill and back at Speedy. For once this two-ton numbskull was making sense.
"We fuck her and then we dump her. And as for you, asshole...." Charlie brandished the gun before Pete's eyes, then laid it to rest on the tip of his nose. " ... better make this a good fuck 'cause it's your last."
Pete gulped.
They fell upon her, tons of sweaty man flesh, and Jill clawed at the figures grappling above her. Then someone held her wrists, tugging her arms forcibly upward, stretching them high over her head. The grappling stopped and she opened her eyes and stared up at them in abject terror as she realized what they were doing.
"Oh, God, don't kill me ... do anything to me, but don't kill me!"
Charlie looked down at her and snickered; he held her hands as Speedy bound them with fat, trembling hands. The other man, Pete, was standing beside the sofa, staring down helplessly at her, half torn between making an escape and ravishing his victim's lush young body. Jill looked to him to help. They were both prisoners, couldn't he see that? "Help me...." whimpered Jill up into his dark eyes. "Help me!" She kicked futilely into the air with her still free legs, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her reddened cheeks as she gazed up and saw her arms being tugged upward harder, now securely bound, the nylon rope wound tightly around a lamp on the right and a hook attached to the truck's wall on the left. She didn't want to die! She gave a last desperate tug, straining the tendons in her whole naked and defenseless body, then sank down into the sofa with a deep moan.
Unexpectedly, then, a strange feeling of security came over her, incongruous as it was: a security in total helplessness. But she still felt compelled to fight it.
"Please ... I won't say anything ... just ... let me go...."
Speedy's chuckle gurgled in his flabby throat. "I think the lady needs a drink." Snickering, he picked up the nearly empty Jack Daniels bottle and poured the contents down her throat. Rivulets trickled from the corners of her mouth to run down her cleavage and dampen her see-through nightie. Her hardened nipples spiked through as if trying to rip the skimpy garment to shreds.
Jill closed her eyes, coughing from the whiskey, and when she opened them it was to see three naked men standing about her, gawking down at her nearly naked body. Feebly, she raised her head and stared down at her creamy fleshed body. The nightie had ridden up above her pubic mound, exposing the honey curls there. She caught Speedy gaping at her vagina and licking his lips.
"No ... oh god, no!" She read his intention before he responded to his own lecherous instincts. In a thundering thump, he fell on his knees and, wedging her slender thighs apart with pudgy hands, he buried his face in her pussy and sucked on the pungent female juices. Jill was electrified with revulsion! She kicked and arched her back, trying to force the parasitic mouth away from her genitals, but the force of her struggle only widened his playground. Ripples of blubbery brown fat glistened in the light as sucking, grunting sounds filled the truck. Speedy went about his feast with a whetted appetite, dribbles of his own saliva and Jill's cuntal juices trickling down his double chin.
Oh, it was ugly, disgusting, horrible ... listening to this distasteful man slaving away at her genitals as if he were a peasant sucking marrow from a bone. Jill thought she might faint from the perversity of it. "Oh ... oh ... oh!" He was nibbling at her clitoris now, taking the rosebud between his teeth and pressing down gently ... ever so gently.
A lightning-like shock flashed through her body. Jill arched her back, gasping. Her vagina felt like it would explode! Pleasure so unbearable it turned to pain shot through her womb and Jill gnashed her teeth, while down there she felt her vagina spurt out its sticky orgasm ... right into Speedy's mouth. He hummed to himself and lapped up the pungent milk. Above on the sofa, Jill's arms and legs went numb and she collapsed, gasping.
"Looks like Speedy chose his hole," chuckled Pete.
Jill's eyes jerked suddenly to the other two men who stood glaring down at her stretched and vulnerably naked curves, the seconds ticked off like a giant mammalian heartbeat. She wondered if she would ever be the same Jill Carlson after that disgusting display of carnality. Yet ... there was no reason to restrain herself anymore. To resist would only cause more pain.
From the very lewdness of considering a willing submission, a churning hunger began deep in her loins, spreading outward, consuming her entire being. If she were going to die, she might as well know the pleasures of the flesh to the fullest.
Forgive me, Bob ... Then she remembered: Hadn't he done the same? Only nobody was holding a gun to his head, nobody had tied him down when he willingly submitted to that little snip in New York in his hotel room! An anger welled in Jill, anger from deception on every turn. It was obvious now that these other two men-the sperm whale and the bean pole-knew nothing of her kidnap, and you didn't have to be one of Charlie's Angels to figure out that a kidnap rap heaped on top of theft was serious business indeed.
The thought that in a moment these two other men would use and ravish her nakedly bodily openings, in whatever manner they fancied, sent a chill of terror and masochistic delight down her spine-for never had she seen such a lurid contrast of bodily builds.
The fat dark one with a great roll of blubber around his belly and stretch marks streaking his buttocks ... beside him Pete, young and leanly muscular, deeply tanned, attractive even ... except for his genitalia. The horror and revulsion of its earlier exposure was nothing compared to what she felt now. It was slightly bowed like a flat Polynesian canoe and already throbbing erectly, the head peeking from the foreskin like a hideous phantom's face lurking. And the beanpole with the reddish-purple penis that glistened and dripped. All those penises would fill up every hole in her body. The revulsion on her face was impossible to hide.
Pete looked at Charlie who looked at Speedy.
"Who wants what?" bellowed Charlie. "Speedy already ate her out ... that leaves her mouth for me." Unceremoniously he stepped to the sofa, reaching down to seize her head with one hand, his other behind his lasciviously formed cock downward to aim it at her mouth. He inched forward, squirming his hips and pulling her head even closer to his sweaty smelling groin, swiping his cock over her lips and cheeks, smearing its wetness over her face and pressing it once against her closed eyes, and finally shoving it into her mouth. "Kiss it!" he commanded.
Jill whimpered, pouting her lips and kissing the pungent tasting head, her nostrils flaring from the masculine scent of it.
"Lick it with your tongue."
She sucked in her breath, flicking her tongue and circling the head of his cock, teasing the foreskin so the enormously hardened head twitched against her lips.
"Open wider!" Charlie tugged harder on the back of her head, pulling her face mercilessly deeper into his loins. Jill complied with a whimper, stretching her lips and gasping for breath as she felt the slippery naked head of his cock worm between her teeth down her tongue, deeper, almost gagging her.
"Jesus...." sputtered Speedy. "I ain' never been in a gang fuck before." His belly rippled with laughter.
Then her body shuddered as Pete climbed onto the sofa, making it sag beneath his weight, and nestled his body up between her widespread legs. He beamed up at her: "You and me is gettin' to be bosom buddies, ain't we Jill?"
For a moment she even quit sucking Charlie's cock as she felt Pete's hands on her smoothly cringing flesh. An indescribably electrifying shock shot through the frayed nerve ends of her body like a thousand sharp needles. Laughing red devils danced wickedly along the inner softness of her thighs. Her buttocks ground desperately down into the sofa to quench a sudden searing flame licking at her nakedness. What was happening to her?
"Keep sucking, bitch!" snarled Charlie, pulling at the back of her head and hair until she thought he would pull it out by the roots.
As Jill gurgled and resumed the crazed sucking, Pete played on the lower half of her body, placing his thumbs on the curls of her pussy and pulling them slowly apart. Jill groaned around the monstrous shaft in her mouth as the exquisite feeling of air rushed up the rising bud of her clitoris. It rippled up her quivering belly and out into the nipples of her throbbing breasts, drowning out the fear and humiliation of being gang raped. Her breathing was labored, marked by the rise and fall of her voluptuous breasts.
"Go ahead and fuck her!" cheered Speedy from the sidelines, stroking at his fat cock and staring with glinting eyes down at Jill's squirming body.
Jill's hips undulated furiously as Pete stroked her clitoris, sending more shocking electric tingles through her passion-wracked body. She thrashed and sucked harder, tearing futilely at her bindings. The cock ramming mercilessly in and out of her mouth matched tempo with the finger stroking her budding clitoris, teasing her torturously. Every fiber of her being cried out for something that no cock in her mouth or mere finger toying with the shallow reaches of her cunt could mollify. She mourned for Pete to ram his cock (the cock that had raped her mouth) into her cunt. Pain would be better than nothing. She yearned for the pain too ... anything that could stretch her, fill her, deep inside her.
"Come on fuck her!" Speedy was nearly beside himself. "Come on, let me fuck her if you's just gonna play with her!"
Pete's dour expression silenced the islander.
In a sudden movement she twisted her head sideways, blinking against the blinding light and using the slight slack Charlie had let slip into his brutal grasp on her hair, and the slippery cock popped free of her mouth. Bill groaned angrily, jerking at her hair, thrusting harder forward so that his saliva soaked cockhead prodded at her cheek, slapping her face and smearing sticky wetness over her eyes and nose. He yanked at her hair and she gave out a soft scream, and determinedly twisted her head until she could see Pete's frenziedly finger fucking of her exposed clitoris. Unexplainably, he stopped.
Sadistically, Pete tormented her, frustrating her to the limit; he wanted her hot and panting for it, ready to beg when he finally thrust his cock into her. Jill sobbed again, her body thrashing the painful loss of his teasing finger. A rare communication between the two men sparked and Pete nodded at Charlie to release his hold on her hair, giving her enough slack that she could drop her head back to the sofa and ease the strain on her aching neck muscles. Jill slapped her thighs together, then in a futile and humiliating gesture, she lifted one leg and crooked her knee, straining as she tried to reach back and rub her hotly swollen clitoris with her own foot. It wouldn't reach, so with a cry of frustration she dropped her leg. Her wrists ached from tugging with her arms and she wished to God they would fuck her and have done with it!
"I think she's ready to fuck now," announced Pete blandly.
"Oh, God, fuck me...." wailed Jill.
Charlie looked at Pete. "Hear that? The little lady's beggin' for it!"
Pete started to lower himself toward her as she heaved out her breasts and thrust her hotly twitching cunt lips up in hope. The Jack Daniels, the helplessness of her plight and a burning masochism turned Jill Carlson into a seething mass of begging-to-be-fucked flesh.