Chapter 8

Joan slept fitfully. The last thing she remembered was the sound of the two men downstairs, laughing very loud. Then there was a quiet shuffling noise and soon, the big house was silent except for the old dry creak of the timbers. She closed her eyes then and fell asleep again and didn't wake up until the first gray light of the new day slanted into the room.

She opened her eyes and stared at the blank ceiling for a moment. She didn't remember exactly where she was until she tried to move. Her legs ached and her flesh was still very sensitive from the beatings she had received the day before. And when she moved her hands-she found that her right wrist had somehow come loose. The rope was still wound around her but the loops were slack and she pulled her hand out. Quickly, she untied herself and sat on the edge of the bed. Her head spun dizzily and she had to stay still for a moment to steady herself. Finally, afraid that the two men would wake up, she went to the window and tried the sash. It lifted easily. Elated, Joan took the old blanket from the bed and wrapped it around herself as best she could. She was shaking all over as she stepped out onto the porch roof but more from fear and the excitement than from the crisp cold air. She stepped quickly across the roof, ignored the rasping pebbles of the shingles as they scratched her feet. She found that by sitting on the edge of the roof, turning onto her belly, she could put her feet against one of the supporting posts. She threw the blanket to the ground then proceeded to climb down onto the porch railing. Soundlessly, she dropped to the ground, stayed in a crouch for a few seconds and waited to hear Willy's cries from the house. But the only noise she could hear was the twittering of the birds in the trees around the house. She scooped up the blanket, wrapped it around herself again and set off at a slow run for the tree line to one side of the house.

The wood was cold and damp and Joan stepped on a dead twig and her leg almost gave way from the sharp pain. She kneaded the foot then walked again toward the thick underbrush. She had one idea in her head; get away from the house as quickly as possible. She didn't look back as she crashed through brush, and feeling the branches and thorns scratching her legs and arms, she huddled inside of the flimsy blanket.

It was very cold and soon, Joan had to stop to catch her breath. She looked around and saw nothing but trees. The path should be somewhere near here, she thought. But there wasn't a clearing in sight. Tired and hungry, cold and in pain, Joan stopped near a fallen tree. She smoothed the broken pieces of twigs and leaves from one side of the log and arranging the blanket to cover her whole body, huddled on one side of the trunk. If Willy were to follow, she could hear him crashing through the brush. She would have plenty of time to hide.

Her body heated the small, tent like shelter she had prepared and she was comfortable enough for a while. But her eyes kept closing. She was so tired-so tired-the words kept repeating in her head but she slapped her face until it tingled. Flushed red and warm, Joan felt wide awake again.

Nearby, an animal crashed through the tall weeds and Joan jumped up. Her eyes darted back and forth, covering her whole field of vision. Her mouth was dry and her throat felt tight-closed and her chest heaved under the blanket. But then a deer appeared in the trees, saw Joan a short distance away and ran off in the opposite direction. Joan smiled to herself. She decided that it was no good staying there. It was too close to the house. She had to find the path if she was to get away. It would not be too long before Willy would find out that she had escaped.

The woods seemed to be getting thicker and the going tougher. Joan's feet were bleeding and she was beginning to feel weak. She realized that she hadn't eaten for some time-exactly how long, she couldn't quite remember and the combination of hunger and exhaustion soon made her stop.

She looked around. The spot was dark. The light still hadn't filtered through the dense growth of brush and she thought it would be a good spot to curl up and rest. Besides, she hadn't walked a straight line from the house and she knew that the two men wouldn't be sure which direction she had actually taken. They might even think that she found the path.

To one side of the thick green bush, a tree had fallen. It formed a perfect roof and she pushed the thin branches aside. Underneath, the ground was smooth, covered with a soft bed of moss and Joan crawled inside and rearranged the bush so that it covered her completely. She lay back under the blanket and closed her eyes. The air was fresh and calm and Joan listened to the quiet songs of the birds all around her.

"What's that I smell?" Tom raised himself on his elbow and blinked his eyes. He had slept good and now his head was a bit fuzzy from the whiskey. He rubbed his eyes with his fist and shook his head. "What is that you're making Willy?"

"Some eggs and bacon. It will be ready in a minute and the coffee is finished. So get your dead ass out of there and let's eat."

They sat down at the table and Tom began to stuff his mouth full of egg as soon as the plate was set down in front of him. He emptied his cup in one swallow and held it out for more. "Willy-you would make a good wife for someone."

Willy threatened him with the pot and smiled. "Just eat and shut up."

They were finished in no time and Tom felt like a new man. He helped clear the table and went into the kitchen. Willy started cooking more eggs.

"You still hungry?" Tom asked curiously.

Willy stared at him for a moment as he took the eggs from the pan and put them on a plate.

"She has to eat too. I don't go for starving people-that's my limit."

Tom laughed sarcastically and watched his friend from the corner of his eye. Willy took a slice of bread and set it on top of the eggs then walked out of the room. Tom heard him on the stairs. He spotted the whiskey on a shelf and took a quick swig. Just as he was putting the top back on the bottle, Willy let out a roar. Tom replaced the bottle quickly, wiped his hands and rubbed his lips.

"Tom!" Willy shouted from the top of the stairs. "Tom-come here quick."

Tom ran into the living room and stopped at the bottom of the steps. Willy was half way down and still holding the plate in his hand.

"Did you hear anything last night-any kind of noise?"

"No-Why?"

Willy scratched his head.

"She's gone-that's why. The girl isn't in her room."

Tom stiffened involuntarily. The girl was gone. It didn't seem possible that she could have gotten the ropes off.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Willy snapped as he came down the steps. "Do you think I'm blind?"

"Maybe she's just hiding," Tom said, not wanting to believe that the girl had escaped. "Did you look in the closet? How about under the bed?"

"Come on!" Willy shouted as he ran past Tom. "Let's get our coats on and start looking. I hope she didn't get far."

They stood in front of the house and looked in every direction. There had to be some clue as to where she went and Willy was determined to cover the place with a fine tooth comb. They circled the house and looked for footprints in the dust, any clue to which way she went.

"I don't see a thing," Tom said, scratching his head. "Do you suppose she took the path."

Willy stood still for a moment and cocked his head to one side as if listening to something. Tom looked around for the source of the noise that he didn't hear.

"Nope. She didn't take the path."

"How can you be so sure?" Tom said.

"If that girl had taken the path, she would have gotten into town and if she had, someone would be up here now asking questions."

"But we don't know how long she's been gone."

"The bed was ice cold. She must be gone a good while. Although the window was wide open-"

Tom looked really worried then. He frowned and deep lines crossed his face as he spoke.

"Willy. You know these woods. We've got to find that girl before somebody else does or she wanders into town. What are we going to do?"

"Let me think a minute," he said.

Willy stood quiet for what seemed an eternity to Tom. He scratched his chin, rubbing the tips of his fingers across the gray and black stubble.

"Let's go."

"Go where? Where the hell are we going now?"

"Don't get yourself all worked up!" Willy shouted. "We got to keep our heads about this thing. It's going to be close work, searching all them woods," he explained, taking in the surrounding woods with a broad sweep of his hand. "So let me get some rope and we're going to comb them woods."

They walked along the edge of the road and found nothing. Tom was getting very nervous. Each time they stopped, he huffed loudly and threw his arms in the air, flapping them like bird wings.

"We aren't getting anywhere," he observed. "Quiet," Willy ordered. "I think I got an idea."

Tom watched his friend walk away toward the house. He followed after a moment, still flapping his arms in the air and muttering to himself. He wondered, now that he was sober, how he had allowed himself to get into this situation and was about to tell Willy that he wanted no part of it when his friend turned and stared at him.

"Come here," Willy said.

Tom walked over to him and Willy took his arm and turned him toward the house. He could see the old, yellowed curtain blowing in the window of the room where Joan had been.

"There's the window. Now, obviously, the girl climbed down one of these posts. I'd say she was pretty scared and came down this one," he said, indicating the nearest beam. "She probably hit the ground right here, where we're standing. Right?" Tom nodded. "So what would be the next logical conclusion? She was scared and probably made a bee line for them trees," he said and pointed straight ahead at the tree line.

"Willy," Tom said with a broad grin. "You are a genius. What do we do now?"

"Let's go find her," Willy said and started out towards the trees.

They entered the brush at almost the same place that Joan had stepped into earlier. Willy was leading Tom and they groped through the thick bushes and Willy looked at everything within range for a clue, branches, leaves and the ground. But if there were any footprints, they were concealed in the brush. The tall weeds snapped back as the men crashed through and finally, Willy stopped. He looked around again in the dampness hanging low and put a finger to his lips.

"What's the matter? You hear something?"

"No. Nothing but animals but you're making a hell of a racket. Try to walk a little quieter. If she's still around here, you'll scare her away."

They walked a bit further until they came to the log where Joan had rested. Willy looked around but he didn't see anything unusual. He sat on the log and motioned to Tom.

"Might as well take a little rest. She can't get too far in this stuff and don't forget-she doesn't have anything except that old blanket. She hasn't eaten either, so she's probably too tired to go very fast."

"How the hell did I get into this?" Tom said loud. "I must have been out of my mind to come to your place. When you told me about the girl, I didn't believe it-I should have left it at that."

Willy's face flushed deep red. His eyes narrowed to two slits and his lower lip twitched nervously. He pounded one thick fist into the flat palm of his other hand and glared at Tom.

"Fact is-you are here. You had an awful good time-I was watching you last night. You really had a good time and now you want out. Now that things don't look so funny any more-you want out. Well that's tough. That's what I call too bad-because you're in this up to your ears and there ain't a thing you can do about it-except shut your mouth and help find that girl."

Tom looked hard for a moment. He wanted to smash that smug look on Willy's face but he held himself back as his body tensed for action. It wouldn't do any good. Anyway, Willy was right, he thought. I am in this all the way and there isn't much choice. But it all seemed like a crazy nightmare-last night, the girl and now this. ...

"Okay Willy. You win. But let's not sit around here too long. I don't trust that girl.

She might stumble onto someone.

"Not-likely out here," Willy said flatly "But it's a good idea to get going."

They trampled through the brush again and once, when a small animal skittered through the grass, Willy thought they had Joan. He stopped his friend and they advanced stealthily toward the spot where the noise had come from. Tom's nerves were stretched to the breaking point as he stood there, listening to his own breath. He watched Willy as he walked slowly toward something that Tom couldn't see. He strained his eyes and tried to catch a glimpse of something-the thing that drew Willy further away. Finally, the man stopped. He cocked his head again and Tom held his breath for fear of distracting Willy. But Willy only shook his head and walked back with heavy steps. His arms dangled at his sides as he walked up to Tom and scratched his head.

"I don't know. Must have been an animal of some kind. Could have sworn it was her though."

"What the hell are we going to do now?" Tom was beginning to panic. The prospect of Joan finding people and reporting what happened to the police didn't make him feel very much like laughing. He could picture himself sitting in a cold, dark cell in some lonely prison for the rest of his life. Rest of my life! he thought.

"What's the matter with you?" Willy shouted. "Try and get hold of yourself or you won't be good to either of us. Now let's go. I have an idea that we're headed in the right direction."

Tom followed a few feet behind Willy. He was depressed, disgusted with the whole thing and he had half a mind to turn back, with or without Willy and go to town, explain the whole thing...

Hold it!" Willy said in a hushed voice and crouched low.

He was staring in the direction of a fallen tree. Half the trunk was buried in thick green foliage. Tom couldn't see a thing but as he walked close to Willy, his friend motioned for him to get down.

"What is it?"

Willy stretched his arm out straight in front of his eye and tried to make a direct line for Tom's eyes to follow. He was looking over the fallen tree into a clump of bushes where a deer was feeding. Willy could only see the small white tail but from the distance, it was difficult to make out what it was.

"You see it up there? A white flash could have been skin. An arm, leg or shoulder. Who knows. Anyway-we've got to find out."

"Okay, Willy. Let's get it over with. We'll rush her."

They stood up and broke into a run at the same time. Willy was ahead of Tom. He headed straight for the fallen tree, figuring that he could jump the thing easily. The wood crashed up ahead of them and Tom stopped abruptly, skidding on wet leaves. "Willy!"

Joan had seen the two men. Their voices awakened her and she sat tense and huddled in the little leaf cave. She didn't know what to do-panic and fear rushed through her veins, pumping her muscles full. Thoughts, raced and collided in her head, fragments of ideas, and a small, lonely voice cried inside of her. When Willy broke into his sudden run, she jumped automatically, but he had cleared the log just as her head emerged. Tom, who was running behind Willy, saw her peek out. Their eyes met for an instant. To Joan, it seemed that Toms surprised stare lasted forever and pinned her to her hideout. But then her body started moving when Tom yelled at Willy. She dove from cover and ran past him, throwing her arms out and knocking him off balance as she went. Her feet crushed the leaves and twigs underfoot and she felt a sharp pain. Willy had turned when his partner called out and he saw the flash of gleaming skin crash into the high weeds. Tom jumped to his feet and ran after her with Willy right behind.

Joan's breath was coming quickly and a hard pressure squeezed her lungs as she ran. She didn't know or care where she was heading. The only thing she could think of was to run and keep on running until her lungs burst. Tom was right behind her now and in a few moments, he was within arms reach. He stretched and caught her hair in his hand but she shook her head and he let go again. Joan's face was white with fright as Tom reached again. This time, he caught a good thick handful and pulled.

Joan lost her footing, crashed to the ground and Tom was on top of her, struggling to hold her hands. She kicked at the air, frantically trying to get away before Willy got there. But it was too late. Willy stood over them and watched as they fought. Joan was a flurry of arms and legs, hair and teeth and her breasts were crushed under Tom's weight. Tom rolled on top of her and got one leg on either side of her, knelt there, planting himself squarely on top of her heaving belly. She was breathing hard, huffing and gasping for air and tears came to her eyes. She had lost. Her attempt to escape had brought nothing but frustration and now she allowed her tense body to settle against the warm moss.

"Good going," Willy said as he stooped to tie her hands. Then, to Joan, he sneered: "You'll be sorry for this. I promise you."

Tom got up cautiously. Willy held the end of the long piece of rope. The other end was wound tightly around Joan's wrists, holding her hands tightly in front of her. Willy pulled her to her feet and she hung her head submissively.

"All right. I won't try to run," she said.

"That's right. You aren't going anywhere," Willy assured her and pulled her along.

He stopped in front of a tree and told Tom to hold her. Tom stepped up behind her and wound his arms around her waist while Willy tossed the loose end of the rope over a low hanging branch. He pulled until Joan was standing on tip toe, then tied the end around the tree trunk. He walked away and looked on the ground as he went.

"What the hell's going on now?" Tom said. He was annoyed. He thought the best thing they could do was to get back to the house.

Willy returned with a handful of long twigs. He gave half to Tom who took them reluctantly. But Willy frowned, swung the twigs and they slashed across Joan's buttocks. She twisted and cried out but Willy slashed again, the twigs leaving thin red lines across her tight, round buttocks. Tom watched and his eyes danced in his head at the sight of the defenseless girl hanging from the tree. Each time Willy lashed out at her with the twigs Tom felt his blood race into his head.

Willy stopped now. His arm was tired and he motioned to Tom, pointed at the handful of twigs. Joan swayed helplessly. Her flesh was scorched by the twigs as they lashed her body. They bit and stung her buttocks and the back of her thighs and she threw her head back and cried out as Tom stepped forward and began whipping her. He hit harder and harder until the twigs snapped in his hands.

Joan's back and buttocks were gleaming red now. Willy stared with a mad glint in his eye. He stepped in front of her and eyed her hard, pointed breasts then went to Tom and handed him the twigs.

Tom look puzzled but took the twigs that his friend had offered and he stood gaping as Willy opened his pants. His huge red cock flopped out and bobbed in the cool morning air. He stepped up behind Joan and touched her inflamed buttocks, squeezed and pinched her flesh and she twisted and swayed as she tried to evade his hands.

Willy took his cock in his hands and tried to push it into her cunt but Joan squeezed her legs tightly together, barring his ruddy head. He motioned frantically to Tom, who understood and grabbed her by the ankles and stretched her legs apart. Her tender cunt was fully exposed then and Willy, an angry look on his face, slid his prick between her legs, then forced it's angry head into her cunt. Joan squirmed as his prick tore into her. Her lips were dry and his cock scraped her tender petals and burned. She twisted and squirmed as he pushed up into her, ripping into her belly and Willy tried to hold her around the waist. His arms squeezed her belly until Joan gasped for air.

Tom stood up and looked at Joan's beautiful breasts. They stood proudly, defiantly, the small pink nipples standing erect and hard. He drew his hand back and Joan's face spread with terror as the twigs whistled through the air. The first blow wasn't very hard but the ends of the twigs caught her delicate nipples and she writhed and screamed as the fire tore into her chest. Willy enjoyed her twist and struggling and he raised himself on his toes. Joan felt herself being lifted from the ground and now that the rope was slack, she was truly impaled on Willy's thick cock. He jerked her body up and down on his prick and she felt its burning flesh torment her cunt, crush her clitoris. The rough material of his clothes scratched her buttocks. Tom began whipping slowly and steadily as his friend pumped inside of her, raging in her belly. The sting of the twigs ripped into her belly and breasts until the flesh burned hotly and she struggled to free her self, twisting desperately. But Willy's cock was pumping harder now. She could hear him grunting as he pressed his face into her back and hammered inside of her. Tom was lashing her thighs and the fire spread up to her cunt.

Willy was moaning now and his body tensed as he made a final lunge and shot his molten sperm into her. He hung on her now and her wrists were straining against the ropes. He pulled his softened cock out of her now and then pushed it into his pants. Tom came around behind her, pulled his thick prick out of his pants and handed the twigs to Willy. Joan couldn't stand the thought of going through it again.

"Please. No more. Not now. I've had enough-if you touch me again-I won't be able, oh, please, don't. Not there-"

Tom was struggling to get the fat head of his cock into Joan's tight ass. He forced it into her, crushing his prick and straining until it slid in an inch. Joan screamed as his prick stretched her tiny ass. She threw her head from side to side, her hair whipping around her face. The pain burst inside of her in a hot explosion as Tom's prick bored all the way into her. Willy took the twigs and stood menacingly in front of her. But Joan couldn't fight any longer. She hung from the rope and her chin sunk to her chest as Willy drew his hand back and whipped the twigs across her heaving, white belly. He lashed at her and she moaned as the pain shot through her belly. Tom's cock was tearing her from behind. He held onto her shoulder and pressed her body downward each time he pushed up and his cock ripped into her. Willy slashed her breasts and she jerked spasmodically. Her legs twitched and her hair shivered. Tom raged in her, hammering his cock deep into her ass, pounding against her tortured buttocks and gripping her waist, he tensed his body, exploded in hot spurts inside of her.

They wrapped her in the blanket and carried her limp, tired body through the woods. Joan was too exhausted to fight anymore. Her body was saturated with pain and the stinging blows of the twigs, left thin red lines on her breast, legs and buttocks. Her breathing was slow and even and she wanted to sleep again. She listened to the two men grunting as they lugged her through the thick trees. She wasn't aware of the house until she heard their heavy footsteps on the front porch.

The house was still dark, despite the rays of sun peeking through the trees. They carried her back up to the room and threw her on the bed. Willy tied her hands securely to the bedposts and rubbed his hands together. He was satisfied with his work. Joan was unconscious by then and her mind filled with vague forms, people, buildings and once, a bus roared through her imagination. She heard voices in the distance but couldn't comprehend Willy and Tom chattering, but she couldn't identify them.

"Let's celebrate," Tom said. He had calmed down quite a bit now and as he stood gazing at Joan, he rubbed his pants. "Let's celebrate then come up here later."

They went downstairs, Tom leading the way this time and went directly to the bottle of whiskey. It was on the kitchen table where Tom had left it and he grabbed the bottle by the neck, tore the cap off and tipped the opening to his mouth. His throat jumped up and down rapidly as he swallowed the liquid. It warmed his insides as he hesitated, took another short pull and handed the bottle to Willy.

They sat in the chairs and Tom felt tired. He was feeling the tension released from his body like a stream of pressurized steam. Someone had pulled the cork. He folded his arms on tne table and rested his head. It wasn't long before he was asleep.

Willy continued drinking for a while after his friend slept; then he went into the living room and with the bottle still in his hand, fell across the couch. Joan was bothering him. Wondered if she would escape again. He could take stronger measures of course. He could board up the window, keep the door locked, chain her with the old chains he had out back. But that wasn't the only thing that worried him. He wondered how long he could keep the girl here-and what would happen when Tom left?

Willy's friend liked to talk. It wouldn't be long before he would tell someone. Of course it would be hard to believe-Tom hadn't believed him until he brought him here-But you could never tell what people thought about things: it wasn't such a far fetched idea that a lonely man would keep a young, beautiful girl locked up in his house.

Willy took another long drink and relaxed. There was plenty of time. Tom had mentioned that he was on a week's vacation. Plenty of time, Willy thought and took another drink.