Chapter 10
Jack woke up in a ditch, his body aching all over. The two deputies had really beaten the shit out of him. He hated to let it happen, but there really wasn't any choice. He could have taken them both under ordinary circumstances. Easily. But they had the shotguns. And there was no point in getting himself killed.
Instead of fighting back, he had concentrated all his energies on going into a trance. It was very simple, really. Right out of the Agency's field manual.
His breathing almost stopped, and his heartbeat became so faint that it couldn't be heard without a stethoscope. After kicking him around for a while, the McLean brothers left him for dead. But there was a lot of life left in his aching body.
He looked quickly around for his suitcase. He had been careful to carry it with him, not dropping it until they started to beat him. There it was, under a bush. Dragging himself painfully toward it, he snatched it up into his hands. Pelt like a couple of his ribs were broken.
Although he didn't smoke, he took a small black cigarette-case from the bag. He removed three of the cigarettes and reached inside with a finger to stab at an unseen button. The box began to crackle. He lifted it to his mouth and started to speak.
"Soldier boy to central. Soldier boy to central," he murmured. It was like some primitive incantation. The box responded at once.
"We have you, Soldier Boy," it answered. Then a friendly voice added, "Scope says you're in West Virginia. What the hell are you doing home?"
"Personal emergency," he explained tersely. "I need a favor."
"You got it," the voice answered.
"I want you to talk to the computer for me," Jack said. "I need some information about the personal lives of three Davis County Lawmen."
"Will do," answered the box.
"I'm in a hurry," Jack added. "Ill wait right here."
Edna and Emily McLean laughed together as the Ouija board spelled "R A I N." In addition to being half-sisters, they happened to be the best of friends. Somehow it had seemed particularly apropos for them to marry brothers.
They never complained about being lawmen's wives as did most of the women they met at conventions. It didn't matter how unpredictable Luke's and Sammy's schedules were, or how little time they had to spend with their families. The McLean girls had each other. They were almost always together.
They didn't look much like sisters, although both were in their middle thirties. Emily was the older one, tall and big-boned, with dark hair and velvety brown eyes. Edna was petite, and blonde with green eyes. But sometimes they even seemed to think alike.
"You moved the pointer," Edna accused, looking up from the Ouija board.
Emily laughed. "And I thought it was you," she said.
Suddenly the door burst open, and a big dark-skinned man entered the room. In one of his hands was a leather satchel. In the other was the ugliest looking pistol that Emily had ever seen. It was small and black, with a snub barrel designed for nothing other than killing people. She leaped from her chair to stand in front of her sister.
"We have no money," she exclaimed quickly. "And our husbands will be home any minute. They're policemen, you know." The intruder smiled grimly. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had seen him. "You . .. You better get out of here." She was making a conscious attempt to control the quavering of her voice.
"Shut up," the man said simply. He closed the door behind him, and walked over to the green French-provincial couch. Seating himself with his back against one of its arms, he stretched his legs and put his muddy boots on the cushion.
Edna resisted the urge to order them off. She and Luke had saved so long to buy it. But the gun was pointing directly at her.
"I thought I'd find you together," he said. "Saves me some trouble. Now let's see. What shall I have you do?" His words made no sense to Edna. But his voice was menacing. She was frightened. Looking straight at her, he said, "You. Get up and stand next to your sister." His tone was crisp and commanding. His words were terse and clipped. Immediately, she did as he ordered.
He looked from one to the other, appraising them in a frankly lecherous way. Emily was strong. She didn't move a muscle. But Edna shuddered. What could he want.
"You," he said, addressing Edna again. "Undress your sister. From top to bottom. Everything."
Edna's whole body was shaking. But she crossed her arms stubbornly in front of her chest. "I won't," she said. "I won't." She felt tears of terror welling in her eyes, and struggled to hold them back. But it was a losing battle. Her chest heaving with sobs, she began to cry. The man's face remained impassive.
"If you don't," he said softly, "I'll have to kill you and undress her myself." His thumb clicked off the safety on his gun.
Emily spoke. What he told her sister to do was unspeakable. But she couldn't let Edna get killed over it. "You'd better do as he says," she said softly. She knew that her sister would listen to her. She always did.
Edna's diminutive body was wracked with sobs. Her small breasts rose and fell with emotion. How could she do it? She looked at the gun. But how could she not? In a faltering whisper, she asked, "What do you want me to do?"
The gunman roared an answer at her, jolting her with its suddenness. "Take off her clothes," he boomed. "You can start with the sweater."
Edna looked from his gun to her sister's dark eyes. Then down to the curving front of Emily's torso. With trembling fingers, she fumbled at the buttons of her lime-green knit top. When she got two of them unfastened, she hesitated.
The crisp white lace of Emily's bra was already peeking out from the open front of her blouse. One more button and it would be completely revealed. She wasn't sure she could bring herself to continue. Then she glanced up at the gun once again and undid the rest of the buttons. She heard the dark man sigh with triumphant pleasure, and wondered if he had seen enough to let her stop.
"Go on," he commanded, before hope could build in her breast. "Get it all off."
Numbly, the petite woman pulled the sweater off over her taller sister's shoulders. Then she stopped, uncertain of what to take off next. Hoping that Emily was wearing conservative panties, she decided on the skirt. At least that wouldn't leave her naked. Her fingers worked at the snap of the waistband, undoing it reluctantly. Then, her whole body cold, she let it slither down over Emily's legs. Her terror almost drowned in the shame that she felt.
Emily's underpants were scandalously brief. They were white, like her brassiere, but they did little more than cover the puffed up hump of her mons. Edna felt embarrassed for her sister. She wished she could cover her with something more substantial. And then she realized that it wouldn't matter. The gunwielding man would only have her remove that as well.
Not waiting for another barked command, she took the elastic of her sister's drawers in her hands and pulled them down over Emily's flared and shapely hips. The thin band of material which went between her legs hung doggedly to the slit of her pussy. Then it pulled away, leaving her entire vagina exposed. The still-dressed sister tried not to stare.
Emily's cuntlips were thick and puffy, meeting in a damp line of pink. All around them was her pubic hair, almost black. Edna fought back an urge to cover it with her hands.
All that remained now was the bra. And for some reason, that was the hardest part. Edna had always admired her sister's big boobs. Even envied them, in a way. She hadn't really seen them since they were kids. But now they would be coming face to face. She walked around behind Emily, reaching up for the undergarment's clasp. Trying not to think of what she was doing, she unhooked it. The bra fell unceremoniously to the floor. Edna averted her eyes.
The man on the couch laughed obscenely. "Not bad," he said pensively. "Not bad at all. This is going to be more fun than I thought." He smiled with inspiration and said, "All right, now. Kiss her tits."
Edna gasped at the depraved instruction. Kiss them? Kiss another woman's breasts? Her own sister's? How could he expect a thing like that?
She looked up at him imploringly, tears streaming from her eyes. "Please," she began. But his face was impassive, completely unaffected by her display of emotion. He looked cold-almost professional. Feeling his gaze upon her, she turned and did as he commanded.
Emily's tits were shaped like footballs. The nipples which capped their elongated beauty were small-just a pair of pink dots on the whiteness of her skin. But when Edna's lips brushed lightly over her breasts in a token of compliance, they seemed to get larger. Their points stirred and stood out. The discs around them became darker. Edna was almost certain that she imagined it, however.
The man with the gun whistled softly. "Well, well, well," he said. "That isn't taking very long is it? All right Jaybird," he was addressing the naked Emily. "Do the same for your sister. Get it all off."
The dark haired woman's mind was scheming. Was he planning on raping them both? Certainly not at the same time. A glimmer of hope began to form in her brain. Maybe, just maybe, she'd get a chance to get his gun away. If he got interested enough in Edna, he might forget about her for a second. Just long enough to drop his guard. Steeling herself, she chose a course of action.
Boldly, she reached for the zipper at the back of Edna's dress. With one motion, she pulled it down. Her sister's garment fell open. Without removing it, she unhooked Edna's bra. She tried to ignore the gasp of horror which came from the frightened woman's mouth. There wasn't any choice. She could explain later.
When she took the dress off Edna's quivering body, the brassiere came away with it Suddenly, the blonde woman's titties were bared. Emily felt a twinge of guilt as her sister threw her arm up to cover the naked cones of flesh. Grasping Edna's wrist, she pulled the hand away.
The twin buttons of her nipples were flat and brown, covering half the surface of her pointed little tits. With a tenderness that was genuine, the older sister stroked them. She wanted desperately for the nipples to harden. But they were unwilling. Spreading her fingers, she circled the nubs with them. If she could get his attention to focus on Edna, she might have a chance to save them both. Even if it meant diving for the gun, she would have to risk it. For Edna.
She felt one of the nipples starting to stir. And then the other. Edna's tits were swelling slightly, becoming hard to the touch. With swirling fingertips, she massaged them lightly all over. The nipples became rigid. Cupping the boobs she let the tight brown knobs poke out from, between her fingers.
Edna looked up in horror, uncomprehending. Emily was participating in her degradation. She was petting and stroking her breasts without even being told to. And now she had gotten her nipples all hard. What must that terrible man be thinking? She told herself over and over again that they had stiffened in fear, not in excitement.
But when Emily's hands slipped away from her, her body felt a loss. Her nipples stood up taller, as though calling back the hands which had brought them to life. Her breasts swung in place, her breathing growing quicker.
Emily's fingers were tugging at her panties now-her last shred of protection against the obscene man's lustful eyes. When they were taken from her, she would be totally nude. Every part of her would be exposed to his gaze. She felt cold and clammy all over. Her crotch band was clinging damply to her vaginal creases.
With a swift sweeping motion, Emily finished stripping her. Edna felt her pussy cringe at the horror of being bare. The man was staring right at it, licking his lips. His eyes were fondling its flesh, his vision tangling in the silvery hair which surrounded it. She could almost feel his hot breath on her clit. It was awful.
Emily ran her hand across the soft upholstery of her petite sister's cunt, certain that this was a crucial moment. Now he would have to decide. Now he would have to choose the one that he wanted first. She just had to get him to pick Edna. Then they would have a chance.
She tried not to look at him as she played with the moist slit. She tried to concentrate on her plan. But she could almost feel his gaze burning into her. She heard Edna sobbing softly as her fingers glided in and out of her pussy. God, she hoped she lived long enough to explain.
"There," the dark man said softly. "That's nice now, isn't it? Now lie on the floor. Both of you." His pants were open and he was holding his brown cock in his hand. He stroked it slowly up and down as he spoke. "Blondie, I want to see you lick your big sister's pussy. Have you got that?"
Emily groaned aloud. She had never expected him to do this. God, she had played right into his hands. She saw her sister gag, a hand flying involuntarily to her mouth. The poor thing. Putting an arm around Edna's shoulders, she held her close. She could feel the small roundness of her titties pressing into the ample firmness of her own. She held her tight for a moment. Then, disengaging her gently, she said, "We'd better do as he says, dear." Her own face was spotted with tears. Would her sister ever understand what she had been trying to do?
Edna allowed herself to be guided to the floor by Emily's gentle hands. There was no resistance left in her. Something inside her had snapped. She was like a robot, an automaton. She watched, unseeing, as Emily arranged herself on the carpet. Her thighs were flung wide open. Edna didn't know what to do next.
"Lick that pussy," the man said gruffly. "Or I'll shove my gun inside it and fire." From the corner of her eye, she could see him playing with his prick. Her mind was whirling. She was dizzy.
Trying to keep her eyes in focus, she bent over her sister's reclining body. She stared at Emily's navel, trying not to see below or beyond it. She could hear his foul breathing from across the room. And the slithering of his fingers over his stiff organ.
Lowering her face, she extended her tongue and swiped it quickly over her sister's gash. It had a salty taste, not really unpleasant. But the thought of it made her want to vomit. She looked up, hoping that he was satisfied with her unwilling act of perversion. But he wasn't. There was an expectant look on his face.
'That's not enough," he said softly. "I want to see you make her cum." Then he got up from the couch and pointed his gun into Emily's face. "'And if you try to fake it," he said, "I'll know. And I'll blow your sister's head off. Then yours." He continued stroking his rod as he stood looking down at them.
Edna sobbed. Make her cum! Put her mouth on Emily's pussy and make her cum! It wasn't possible. The thought was too revolting. It wouldn't make her cum. It would make her throw up. She realized suddenly that he was sighting down the barrel of his pistol, aiming it directly at her sister's face. With hysterical speed, she plastered her mouth to Emily's vulva.
The salt taste had grown stronger. It was smeared all over the scarlet lips. It filled her nostrils with the acrid smell of heat. She tried to blot it out of her mind, but she couldn't. The flanges of the lengthy slit were spreading open. She couldn't keep her tongue from slipping inside.
Her sister was bucking and twitching jerkily, bumping Edna's nose with the prominence of her mound. She was almost acting like she liked it. Without meaning to, Edna thrust her tongue in deeper, tasting the rank inner sweetness of Emily's cunt. The other woman moaned.
Emily hated her body for the way it betrayed her. But Edna's mouth on her cunt felt good. And she couldn't make the good feeling stop. Sammy ate her pussy once in a while, but it felt different with him. His tongue was stiffer and more unbending. His chin was bony and hard. The stubble on his face irritated her thighs. With a soft lowing croon, she submitted her soul to her sister's light tonguing.
She began to arch her back, raising the slash of her pussy to give Edna easier access. She wasn't sure, but she thought her sister's attitude was changing too. She wasn't licking uncertainly or reluctantly any more. She was sucking and laving with a passion. Her teeth nibbled gently at the flanges of her cunt, the muffled sounds of her groaning filling the air.
Something had happened to Edna. Emily's response was turning her on, as Luke's never did. She knew that the intruder was enjoying the display, but she was beyond the point of caring. Her own cunt was raging with desire. She licked her sister's pussy like she would have liked to have someone lick her own. Her lips nuzzled the opening while she searched for the clit. She knew all about that little organ. She had rubbed her own many times when she was alone in bed at night.
When she found it, she wrapped her lips around it, sucking ever so gently. She had always wondered how that would feel. Maybe, some day, she would ask Emily. The lewdness of her own thoughts shocked her, but she no longer tried to hold them back or ignore them.
She had always wanted to kiss Emily's body. She had always longed to know the taste of her cunt. She almost recalled doing something like this to her before. But she didn't know whether it was a memory of childhood or the scrap of some long repressed fantasy.
She moved her body sensuously, stroking Emily's thighs with the tips of her own pointed breasts. She craved sensation too. She wanted to squirm the way her sister was squirming. She wanted to experience the pleasure which was obviously Emily's.
The black man who hovered over them with his prick in hand must have sensed the change in her. Gruffly, he commanded, "A little sixty nine now. Squat over her face, Blondie, and lick each other at the same time."
Edna's heartbeat quickened at the lewd suggestion. Her pussy drooled its sizzling fluid, wetting the hair-lined surfaces of her outer vaginal lips. Clumsily she tried to turn around without taking her mouth from Emily's yawning chasm. But she couldn't make it. When her lips came away from her sister's sex, the older woman sighed. Then, when Edna's cunt lowered over her face, she sighed again.
Emily found herself looking up into Edna's pussy as Edna's mouth connected with her cunt. Deep down she guessed that it was what both of them had wanted for a long time. She tried to tell herself that they were only performing; just carrying out the lewd instructions of a depraved gunman who held their lives in his hands. But she knew it had gone far beyond that.
Greedily, she stretched out her tongue to swab the outer lips of Edna's silver-lined slit. She heard her sister gasp. The sound pleased her, ticking off a reaction in her own sex slash. She felt herself opening to her sister, absorbing her mouth in the warmth of her pussy. She sucked Edna's clitty into her lips.
The blonde woman jerked back at the sudden shock of pleasure. Her sex button stood up like a tiny penis, making her feel strong and potent. She felt her sister's tongue sliding over it, and she hummed unashamedly. The sound turned her whole mouth into an electronic vibrator. She could hear Emily's grunt of delight.
She tried to duplicate her sister's actions, sucking Emily's clit into her own hungry mouth. It felt even longer than her own. And thicker. She rolled it around with her tongue. She nibbled gently at it with her teeth. She didn't know which excited her more-Emily's cunt on her mouth, or Emily's mouth on her cunt. She was starting to pant, her emotions rising to a fevered pitch. It felt like an orgasm was beginning. It had been so long since she had one. She craved it desperately. She needed it. It didn't matter how she got it.
She rolled her hips to press her twat down hard against Emily's mouth. At the same time, she plunged her tongue deep into her sister's sweet flowing puss. She lapped and licked at it voraciously, the tangy flavor exciting her more and still more. She hoped that Emily would forgive her for what she was feeling, for what she was allowing to happen. But she knew forgiveness would have to wait. Her needs were pressing. They were urgent. They were, "NOW!"
She screamed the monosyllable, as if it explained all that was taking place. She shouted it again. And again. And again. Her cunt was unleashing its store of bottled up frustration, pouring out its message that she too was a woman. She writhed about on top of her sister's naked body, lapping every drop of the other woman's secretions. She knew from the taste-knew it instinctively-that Emily was starting to orgasm, too.
Their bodies fused together, uniting in the ultimate of human connections. Each poured the juices of her love into the other's waiting mouth. Each slaved with tenderness to bring the other one passion. Neither of them felt the hot splashes of scum which sailed from Jack Henderson's dick to wet their nudity. Neither heard the groan of release which issued from his throat when his penis stopped spitting.
Nothing existed for them but completion. They weren't even aware of the needle which he jabbed into first Edna's buttock and them Emily's. They just drifted off into instant and very deep sleep, their bodies locked in erotic lesbianism embrace. When their husbands arrived home later that evening, they would be just as they were then.
Jack gripped his valise tightly in his hand as he left the house. He was tired, but stimulated. Two debts had been paid. But there was still much to do.