Chapter 5
The sun shone in again through the tiny window when Linda heard the door open. Shame that made her want to vomit swept over her. How could I ... how could I have done that? she gagged.
Wait! I didn't have anything to do with it! They forced me! As the lieutenant strode in, Lump-nose behind him, a change came over Linda's thoughts. I've been forced into it all along! I never would have let even Judy touch me if I hadn't been so drunk!
Linda let them drag her off the floor like the puppet she felt herself to be. She was afraid to look at Guitierrez. If he saw the murderous hatred in her face!
And after Judy ... this one! This bastard, this petty tyrant! God, if I ever get a chance! A t least his boss, the colonel, seemed to get some pleasure out of it! Guitierrez only flicked me to punish me!"
Yes! Fucked me, badly, at that. That hand on my pussy, the way he dragged me out on the chain until I thought my arms would break! He doesn't hate me because I'm American ... he hates me because I'm a girl! It doesn't have anything to do with their rotten little war ... he saw a chance to hurt someone, and he picked me! Linda limped along the corridor between the two men, trying to conjure up a plan, any plan that involved the slow, painful death of Lieutenant Guitierrez. Images of knives and red-hot pokers made her smile. She dragged her feet, prolonging the walk to whatever new doom the Cubans had thought up for her. Lost in her reverie, Linda stubbed her toes on a stone step. "Oww!" she moaned. As if she didn't hurt badly enough, her own daydreams had nearly broken her toes.
"Silence! We must hurry," the lieutenant said. "You must bathe and have your wounds attended before your employer sees you." With a smirk that confused Linda even more than his words, he added, "We do not want the reputation of damaging the goods of our North American allies." Guitierrez led her and the putty-nosed solider down the hallway at a near-trot.
Even though it was the middle of the morning, the old stable Linda found herself led to was filled with lanterns. The few tacked-on electric lights on the wall of the building didn't shed enough light for the cooking and washing tha( a half-dozen peasant women worked stolidly at. The smell of simmering beans, spices, and salt port and the cutting scent of medicines filled the courtyard. A woman in her forties or fifties gave Linda a valvanized bucket of warm water, a sliver of soap, and a grey-white section of threadbare cloth. Linda stood slumped in her chains. Did they expect her to wash here, in the middle of the courtyard?
Lieutenant Guitierrez growled an order to the soldier, who rushed off busily. "There is not much time," he said, unlocking Linda's handcuffs. He bent to use a heavier key on the leg irons, then gave her a backhanded swat on the ass when he straightened.
That familiarity insulting familiarity restarted the slow rage burning in Linda's guts. It fueled on the hunger that the cooking smells had awakened. The redhead set her teeth grimly and began dabbing water on her breasts and belly. She ignored the glances of the barracks cooks and the comments of the soldiers lining up for messcall. Linda twisted this way and that, washing the blood flecks from her buttocks, scrubbing the comespots from her thighs. It would have been easier to reach between her thighs to wash the underleases of her asscheeks, but Linda felt strength and agility returning to her tortured muscles with every calisthenic twist of her torso. She tried to flex every limb and tendon, weighing her chances. She hefted the metal bucket surreptitiously. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it might do. She kept her head down, sneaking glances through the tangled strands of hair over her face. The open end of the courtyard was nearly fifty yards away, and the two dozen soldiers stood between her and whatever lay outside. Linda had started re-soaping her arms when Guitierrez snapped, "Enough!" and took the sliver of laundry soap away. He spun Linda around by the shoulder and marched her across the courtyard.
The other wing of the barracks was more open, with idling soldiers and civilians mingling in the corridors. Linda scarcely had time to know where she was going before she was thrust into a small, bare room and left alone.
Now that she knew how fragile the handcuffs were, Linda wished she were still shackled by the wrists. At least she would have a flimsy weapon, better than no weapon at all. All she needed after that was clothing and a chance to run. She paced back and forth, sweeping her hair away from her face with both hands. They're getting sloppy with me. I have to be ready!
The room was three paces deep and four paces across. The latch scraped. Linda forced herself to look cowed. She slumped her shoulders and tried to hide her breasts and pussy with her hands. Adrenalin pumped surges of blood to her muscles. She hoped that the blush of anger and tension on her face could be mistaken for embarrassment. She wiggled her bare toes against the stone floor, mentally rehearsing a leap for the door.
Guitierrez held the door open for a swarthy, sport-shirted American. The American grinned, then shook his head. "Nah, Paco, she ain't mine, but I will give ya, oh, fifteen hundred bucks for her." He stepped in and cupped Linda's chin in his palm. "Fine-lookin' piece, Paco. You been dippin' inta this'un?" He ran an appraising hand over Linda's breasts and down along the firm, supple curve of her waist.
The Lieutenant's face was simultaneously greedy and cold. "If she is not yours, she is not for sale, Mister Meyers. She is due for more interrogation."
Meyers turned Linda around with one strong hand on her shoulder. "Looks like Colonel Almieda already questioned her. I tell you what ... two grand for the colonel, and fifty grams of snow-white for you." He glanced at Lieutenant Guitierrez, then added, "Hey, Paco, she's no use to you. If Almieda didn't get her to talk yet, she don' know nothin'. At least I got a use for her."
Linda didn't know what to think. She looked from Guitierrez' wavering expression to Meyers' easy, toothy grin. Meyers seemed as friendly as a used-car salesman, but a hard edge underlay his smile and his drawl. She found herself hoping the lieutenant didn't want the "snow-white", whatever it was.
"No, I cannot do it," Guitierrez said regretfully. "She is a Castrista, and we must find her contacts. Besides, she would not be good for you. She is a ... como se dice? A woman-lover."
"A dyke? So? Our girls don' fuck for love, Paco. If she is a rebel, we'll have her out of the country before noon and solve that problem for you, too. Whaddya say seventy-five grams, and I'll tell Almieda it was fifty?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully, then shrugged. "Okay. Gimme a call when you're done with her." He started for the door.
Linda felt as if a sword had been removed from above her head. Guitierrez followed the American out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. The sudden letdown left her weak as a newborn kitten. Linda lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the floor. What had she escaped from? Why did the Cubans think she was so important? She stretched out on her side, glad to be clean for even a little while. Linda put her arm under her head and drew her knees up. If the soldiers had already taken ten thousand dollars from Judy's body, why did they turn down two thousand more for Linda's ransom? The reasons were too obscure to reason out. Linda brooded and wondered. The stone floor was luxury itself as she nodded off.
The door slammed back against the wall with a splintering crash. Linda bolted upright. Guitierrez kicked a short, thickset Cuban into the cell, chopping the butt of his forty-five across the back of the man's neck. "Who is it?" the lieutenant snapped as the man fell face-down on the stones. Colonel Almieda materialized in the doorway.
Linda jumped back, away from the falling body of the new prisoner. Still naked, shaking the sleep from her eyes, she babbled, "I don't know! I can't even see his face!"
Guitierrez almost leapt the four feet to the man's side and kicked savagely at his ribs. With a retching groan, he turned over. His mouth and nose were covered with blood. The man squeezed his eyes shut in pain, then spit up at Guitierrez. He cursed mushily, spraying pink foam. Guitierrez kicked again, burying the toe of his heavy boot in the prisoner's armpit. The arm jerked spastically, and pain twisted the man into a knot.
"Who is he, Miss Martin?" Almeida asked calmly. "He was searching the condemned wing for una Norteamericana." The colonel pulled a cigar from his tunic and amputated the end with a shiny silver device. He rolled it obscenely around his mouth before lighting it, then dropped the still-lit wooden match onto the prisoner's face.
"I ... I've never seen him," Linda stammered. She tried to look away, but the agonized writhing of the prisoner drew her eye. She moved her feet back and forth, torn between gruesome fascination and the urge to get away from the wounded man. When the new prisoner looked up at her, his expression made Linda's heart pound. She knew she'd never seen him before, but his calm, concentrated gaze told Linda that she was indeed the North American he'd been looking for. Linda felt trapped and confused, and, because the stranger had been looking for her, responsible for him in a way that she couldn't figure out. More calmly, she said, "No, I don't know this man. He must have been looking for Meyers' other girl."
Footsteps outside announced another prisoner, hardly more than a boy. Linda did recognize the second captive ... he'd been the bellhop at the hotel. Her stomach sunk when the boy ignored her too obviously. She looked at the colonel, and his smirk made her shiver. He puffed his cigar slowly, rolling the smoke around in his mouth, then said, in English, "Strip him, Paco."
Guitierrez left the older prisoner on the floor and yanked the boy's pants down. He tore the rough shirt down the front and peeled it away. Only a few strands of dark hair curled around the boy's scrotum, and his egg-smooth prick stood out like a flagpole centered in a cement circle. Almieda swaggered over and stopped in front of the teenager. "Tell us who the other man is, Miss Martin," he said. "We do not like strangers running around in our barracks. It upsets the men, and that makes me angry." The colonel's voice was calm and light.
"You see, you have already proved that I can get no real information by beating you," Almieda singsonged. "These gentlemen present more interesting possibilities." The colonel puffed until the coal at the end of his cigar glowed orange. He brushed the ash off on the boy's nipple.
Linda watched in fascinated horror. "I told you, I don't know him," she said, gulping. The repulsive colonel had her hypnotized. She watched the cigar travel slowly down the boy's chest, his belly, then circle to a spot just beneath his balls. In the utter silence of the stone room, the crackle of singeing pubic hair was loud enough to turn Linda's stomach. The boy inhaled sharply, still refusing to look at her or the man on the floor. A line of red nearly an inch wide showed the slow, almost loving line Almieda had traced with the perfecto. A blister already swelled painfully on the boy's nipple. The nauseating smell of hair and flesh scorching filled Linda's nostrils. She wanted to gag.
She was about to speak, but the boy glanced stoically at her. She looked at the man on the floor. He glared at the colonel, swallowing the spit and blood that overflowed his mouth. "Almieda, let the child go," he said, slurring slightly.
"For what? A confession from you, and the real information about Miss Martin?" Guitierrez asked, watching the colonel's unwavering cigar and the frightened tension in the boy's stance. The little squares of the child's belly muscles stood up, and the cords at the top of his thighs looked hard as rock.
"Let him go. He is not a threat," the prisoner repeated. "I will talk to you."
Colonel Almieda turned away from the boy. He shoved the child into the corridor, and booted footsteps took him away. "Bueno. Digame, quien es Senora Martin? Porque ella es in Cuba?"
The prisoner closed his eyes, gathering strength to speak again. When the guards had taken the bellhop out of earshot, he began, "You can let the girl go. She is only a tourist. I was to keep her from following her dead friend, her and the rubia, the blonde one."
Lieutenant Guitierrez broke in. "You are lying! This Linda Martin was the leader! The blonde one told me personally ... she was the novia, the fiancee, of the dead one!" He glared down at the prisoner.
The captive had a faint smile on his face when he looked at Guitierrez. "Si, si, "he said wearily. "Coronel A Imieda, todos in Havana intienden Paco Guitierrez el culo mas grande de Cuba es. Por favor?"
Linda shrank back in fear at the tight-lipped rage on the lieutenant's face. "Teniente!" the colonel snapped. "Silencio!" He checked the lieutenant's anger before the biggest asshole in Cuba could explode. "Dame mas," he ordered the prisoner. "En Ingles."
"Gracias, Coronel. I did not think it mattered if they were amigas or novias, or disease-scarred whores like the mothers of the Corporals' Junta," the prisoner smiled. He slowly sat up, propping himself on his good arm. "I knew she had been arrested, and when she did not leave with the whoreseller Meyers, I thought I would come to find her. You know me, Coronel, and you know I do not act politically. I came here only to see justice done."
Guitierrez turned his back on the colonel and the prisoner, his jaw twitching with rage. The man rose to his feet, still favoring the side where the lieutenant had kicked him. He rubbed his ribs, and spoke again. "So, if you like, Coronel Almieda, we can go find this child's clothing and I will escort her to the docks. The American consular officers are urging their citizens to leave Cuba already."
The colonel's smile was like a fencing foil. His gaze never left the prisoner's face. Linda was so engrossed in the two dueling men that she barely noticed the fingers wiggling beneath the prisoner's arm. He seemed to be gesturing to her. She shifted her feet slightly. "Please, Colonel," she began hopefully.
"Ahh, Carlitos, you are a poetic man," Almieda said, his superior glance inviting Linda to watch his rhetoric slice the prisoner's argument to shreds. "And, like most poets, you are a liar. It is not simply the jealousy of La Rubia that led me to keep Miss Martin in custody. We have evidence, enough evidence to have half of Havana executed. If you would like to add to our knowledge, perhaps I might allow you and Miss Martin to leave, but I already have a very nice offer for her."
Carlitos let his hand fall to his side. He smiled with lazy satisfaction. "The offer certainly comes from someone besides el maricon marveloso, no?" He gestured toward Guitierrez' tense back. "Paco!"
Guitierrez turned. His face had paled, and the effort of self-restraint stripped his expression to a hawkish, skull-faced mask of contained fury. "Perdoname, boca grande?"
Slowly and distinctly the prisoner, Carlos said, Quien es su padre, Paco? El es un gallo, o una cabra? Lo intiendo la corazon de su madre pompa las mierdas de ciente-sesenta perros, pero-"
With a snarl of distilled rage, the lieutenant leapt at Carlos, brushing the colonel aside. Guitierrez' right hand clutched for the butt of his automatic, but he was too slow. The finger-waving signals had alerted Linda. She jumped across Guitierrez' legs while the colonel was still off-balance, slamming her shoulder into his bemedalled chest. Carlos had sidestepped the lieutenant, raising one knee into the pit of his stomach as Guitierrez charged.
A hot rush of blood to her head and the memory of the merciless whipping Almieda had given her helped Linda crush her heel down on the colonel's hand. The smirk on his face was gone now, replaced by a look of anger as hot and vicious as Guitierrez' anger had been cold. His mouth opened to shout, and Linda swept the sole of her bare foot up in a smooth, swift arc. Her heel connected with his chin. Teeth snapped together. The colonel's eyes went blank.
Linda spun around. With a grunt of exertion, Carlos pulled the lieutenant's torso off the floor. He set both hands in the diagonal strap of the gunbelt and slung the taller man's head into the wall. A thud like a melon hitting a sidewalk merged with the sound of Guitierrez' boots sliding on the stone floor. Carlos grabbed the pistol from the dead lieutenant's belt and snapped, "Come!"
Linda unsnapped the heavy leather flap of the colonel's holster. The ivory-handled grip of a huge revolver jumped into her hand. "How do we get out?" Linda asked, waving the pistol frantically.
Carlos jammed the automatic into his belt. He ripped his shirt open and flung it around Linda's shoulders. "Hide the pistol," he said, swiftly arranging her arms to hold the shirt over her breasts. The redhead obeyed. She held the shirt over her shoulders like a shawl. The barrel of the revolver stuck down the left sleeve. "Can you pretend to cry?" he asked.
Linda nodded. She hunched over, conscious of the nakedness of her loins and asscheeks. She watched Carlos shove the automatic deeper into his belt, then let him put his arm around her shoulders. The butt of Guitierrez' pistol touched the outside of her left thigh. Linda thought of Judy and the torture she'd undergone in the prison, and the tears came.
"Good, very good," Carlos muttered. He had to reach up to pat her shoulders, nudging the gun barrel down until it was better hidden. "Don't look at any of the soldiers. Walk like you're really weeping." He tugged Linda into the hallway, muttering soothing Spanish phrases at her whenever anyone approached.
Linda was crying from fear now. Every pair of booted feet she saw might belong to the man who would find the colonel and the lieutenant. She'd never shot so much as an air pistol before, and now she had a heavy revolver hidden under the only garment slit wore. She listened to the whistles and comments of the soldiers and the sounds of doors opening, too scared to see where she was. If Carlos hadn't urged her along, she would have sat in the middle of the corridor and waited for Batista's soldiers to take her back to the dank security of her black cell.
"Not much further," Carlos cautioned. "Keep your head down." Linda smelled fresh air, then squinted. The daylight at the doorway was bright enough to blind her like a mole. "A patrol is coming. Lean your head down onto me," Carlos whispered.
Linda bent further, sobbing until she thought she'd piss all over herself. The soldiers stopped talking as she and Carlos walked through the middle of the squad. Linda sniffled, her knees weak with terror. Any second she knew she would feel a bullet in her back, or hear the alarm raised behind them. Carlos guided her around a corner, and Linda heard a motor start. "Don't look up," Carlos cautioned again. She heard the squeal of worn breakes. It had to be another patrol, absolutely had to be! She saw the big wheels from the corner of her eye. The motor almost drowned Carlos' voice. "Come around. Okay, get in!" With a shove and a leap, they scrambled into the back of the truck. A canvas flap brushed her face. Linda crawled under it.
"Here-trousers. Give me your pistol," Carlos hissed. The truck lurched and an empty crate slid into Linda's back. Linda let the shirt fall away from her shoulders. She was out of Batista's prison, for a while. But where was she going? With whom? Linda wanted to scream.
I'm going to die in Cuba, she thought. I want to go home!
The fourth day after their escape from Moncada Linda woke in panic. She was used to hunger now, and used to Carlos' constant vigilant presence. In three days, they'd shared one raw rabbit, killed by a stone slung from Carlos' hand. Linda had seen people in the distance, but Carlos always led her away from buildings, roads and clearings. She was utterly lost in the tropical forest, and now she was alone.
But Carlos' bed of branches was still intact. He'd taught her to scatter the signs when they broke their cold camp each morning. Linda pulled on her ill-fitting boots and followed his footprints down the hill to the stream below. She approached silently. Carlos dived from the center of the small pool toward the two pistols when she spoke. Linda was so relieved to see him again that she laughed when he lectured her about stealing up behind him. "It's a good thing I'm on your side," she smiled. "I'm getting better at this forest skulking."
Carlos' frown dissolved. He waded out of the pool. "I think we are safe enough now," he said. "You can bathe if you like. I will stand guard." He pulled on his pants and turned his back pointedly.
The prospect of rinsing the sweat of three days' forced march off her skin was too inviting to resist. Linda stripped in seconds and waded into the water. The pool was only eight feet across, but it was deep enough for her to bend down until the water rose to her throat. Linda ran her hands luxusiously over her body. The few remaining cuts from the colonel's whip and the dead lieutenant's swagger stick were nearly healed. Her wrists were still raw from the handcuffs, but her welts had disappeared. She swept her long red hair up over her head with one hand and rubbed the cool water over her face and the nape of her neck. She looked at Carlos' muscular back, still shirtless under the warming sun, and a tingle in her pussy made her blood flow faster. Linda cleared her throat, then stood up.
The water came just to mid-thigh. Linda made a luscious picture in the middle of the pool, with the sunlight making diamonds of the water droplets on her fair skin. The healthy pink glow of her flesh made the wet red of her pussyhair look like the embers of a log fire, smoldering with rich warmth, ready to blaze up instantly. The water had forced her long nipples into coral points. The maze of excited little wrinkles around the tips looked deliciously inviting, ready for a touch or a tongue. She swayed seductively and murmured, "Carlos?"
He turned around. His face flicked into an immobile mask. "We are not that safe," he said, the thick lump of an erection bulging down his thigh.
Linda let her hair fall over her shoulders. She ran her tongue over her teeth. "I would have died without your help," she said simply. She raised her hands pleadingly and waded toward the sandy bank. With every step her firm breasts lolled invitingly and her lush hips rocked in a dreamy, sensuous motion. "Am I so unattractive that I cannot thank you with what I have?" she asked, adopting Carlos' formal, careful phrasing. She stood less than three feet from him.
Linda's expression changed from warm expectancy to disappointment, then hurt. What's wrong? she thought, blinking back tears. Did they ruin me that badly in the prison? I can see he's ready, but he won't touch me!
"It's not safe!" Carlos exploded. His hands moved toward her, then stopped. He looked as agonized as Linda felt. "Even Batista's army does not come into this zone. The bandits have all been driven toward-" The double click of a weapon being cocked interrupted him. Linda's blood froze.
"Banditos are no longer in fashion," a thick-accented male voice said. "You are in the territory of the Army to Preserve Liberty!"
Linda covered her breasts and pussy and looked around. The dozen armed men at the edges of the clearing looked like bandits. They grinned like bandits. When the wind shifted, they even smelled like bandits. The scar-faced man at the front of the group smiled evilly. "General Arturo Covarrubias at your service. You have been liberated."
He gestured with his pistol and three men surrounded Carlos. They took the pistols away and tied his hands. Three more men wrestled with each other to tie Linda and carry her across the stream while the "general" spoke.
"You must be the ones Almieda has posted the reward for. If only I knew how to get the money from Meyers and Alieda both ... the trouble is, you see, Meyers wants you alive, and el Coronel would not give you to him while you could still breathe." He paused, nodding his head at the weighty problem. "Ahh, bueno! We will see where your talents lie and then decide who will pay." His leer was as nasty as the hands roving over her body.
Linda stumbled in front of two bandits until they reached a trail. Carlos was already tied hand and foot, draped across the back of a bony mule like a sack of cement. The bandit leader gave a series of rapid-fire orders and mounted a tall horse. The two men behind Linda handed her up to him. She automatically straddled the horse, facing the chieftain. She wanted to pass out. His erect prick was already out, hard and eager for her gaping pussy.
Hard, scarred hands grabbed her hip. "Vamonos!" the leader shouted, and the bandits mounted up. He spurred the horse viciously, and Linda's cunt rammed against the head of his prick.
Fright had dried her pussymouth. Only the red curls on her labia were still wet. Linda winced in pain as the bandit hauled her closer. The head of his cock wedged halfway into her dry cunt. The pressure dragged her clit toward his shaft.
The flare of his knob assaulted the tender strips of her inner labia. Linda screamed, from fear as much as pain, and he let go of her hip long enough to slap her. Her head whipped to the side, and Linda stared in horror.
The rocking motion of the horse's back moved her hips in a copulating roll that moved her further onto the impaling prickhead. The bandit grimaced at the pain of her dry cuntsleeve gripping his knob. He slapped her again.
Linda was too scared to shout again. She looked wildly from side to side. The other bandits rode alongside, jostling and shoving their horses against each other to watch the chieftain rape her. The "general" laughed cruelly and gouged at her pussy with his free hand.
The pain of fingers tearing at her cunthair made Linda squirm. The head of the leader's cock nearly wrenched out of her pussy. She felt herself falling. A blow from his fist made her see stars, and she straightened her back was against the horse's neck. Her thighs crossed the tops of the bandit's legs. Linda grabbed the horse's mane in her fingers, trying to keep from sliding off. Another stab of the man's cockhead against her dry pussy made her arch upward in a spasm of pain. "Please, slower," she begged. "Mas despacio, por favor!"
An outrider laughed, mimicking her in a hign voice. "Mas despacio, mi general!" The bandits snickered, ogling her lewdly.
The leader laughed with them. He slapped the horse with the reins and the animal broke into a canter. The rapid joggling movement banged her box against his prick over and over. The bony tip stabbed everywhere from her rectum to her pubic bone. Linda winced with every jolt and her pussycream began flowing in self-defense.
The bandit reached to her pussy again, spreading her cuntlips wide with his first two fingers. He let the horse pick the trail while he stared into the blushing, meaty-red slot of her pussy. His knob prodded against the rim of her cuntmouth, jabbing into her half-wet vagina with each bump of the horse's pace.
A lance of agony shot through her, followed by the hottest surge of pure lust Linda had ever felt. The leader ground his thumb into her clit, mashing the little pellet from side to side. Linda wailed with heat. The jiggling ride bounced her cunt harder against his cock and his thumb. She felt those dirty fingers spread her inner folds until she was wide open, and the head of his prick entered.
The ring of sensuous muscle around the mouth of her pussy immediately clamped around the neck of his cock. Linda felt cream gushing from her cuntwalls in a flood of heat. Only the broad, cunt-corking head of his prick kept the juice from greasing her thighs. She moaned, and the bandit let go of her cuntlips.
The relief disappeared in an instant. He rolled the pink bullet of her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Electric shocks of shattering lewdness shot through her like rockets. Linda felt her whole pussy blazing with heat and pain. Every second put more of his prick into her cunt, and every inch of his cock made her pussy respond faster.
Maybe it was the three days without sex or maybe it was the cruelty she thought she'd escaped. Linda was amazed at the speed of her excitement. She felt her womb touching his cockhead, bouncing up and down with each step of the cantering horse. The dull thudding of his knob against her deep-hidden womb made the feelings in her pinched clit, the sensuous heat in her cuntmouth, even the sliding of the horse's neck on her back seem more intense.
Almost before she knew it, Linda felt his cockbush scratching at the inside of her cuntlips. He pulled his hand out of the way and jabbed forward farther. His pelvis mashed her clitty into a tiny fireball of need, and Linda started to come.
The trotting horse bounced her on the bandit's prick like a lust machine. The bruising force of the fuckstrokes matched the pulses of her come perfectly. Linda wailed with sheer horny excitement. Her legs went up and clamped around the bandit's back.
The trees along the trail thinned out, but Linda didn't see them. She lay against the horse's neck, her asscheeks flexing with the beat of her orgiastic excitement. She rolled her hips in time to the thrusts of the bandit's cock, and her tits jiggled heat all through her torso. Every inch of her skin soaked up sensuality, from the touch of the bandit's hands to the slick, slightly sweaty touch of the horse against her back. Her legs tightened around the bandit's waist. Linda started levering against him.
The bandit shouted happily. The others had all dismounted in the clearing where they camped. The leader spurred his horse faster, and the fucking pair on the horse galloped around the edge of the clearing.
The incessant bounding of the horse, the sound of hooves on dirt, the continuous thrusts of the leader's prick all combined. Linda couldn't separate the sounds from the cock, or the cock from the hands on her ass. The bandit dragged her upright. She was suspended on his prick. Her tits scraped against his shirt. She felt scratchy whiskers seeking her tits, and Linda leaned back.
Around and around the clearing, the horse panting, the bandit nuzzling and biting her nipples, whiskers scraping her deep cleavage, she rode. Linda rode the man's prick for dear life, feeling another orgasm building up inside her. She held off as long as she could, then let it go. She couldn't stop coming!
The bandit growled and cursed, throwing his hips up at her. His belly battered her pussy. He bit half-through one nipple. Linda felt his prick swell larger, harder. She whipped her ass back and forth in a frenzy, cuntally begging him to shoot his seed into her.
The horse was tiring, but the bandit's flailing spurs kept him galloping around the clearing. Linda puffed as hard as the horse. She was soaked with sweat and spattering cuntcream. She whipped her hips sideways, circling voraciously around the bandit's cock. The knob levered around in her cunt, stretching the walls wider, heating the tissues to furious red. She felt the bandit strain to keep from shooting. She worked harder on his prick. Linda clasped her cuntring like a fist. The bar of meat in her cunt was hard as iron. Linda grunted. She felt the tremble in his hips, the sudden hitch in mid-stroke. She dragged a huge breath in.
The ripping power of his come blasted into her cunt like a hundred firehoses. Linda screamed. The bandit leader yanked the reins back and the horse reared high, pawing the air.
Linda spasmed around his prick. Her cunt sucked at him like a vacuum cleaner. The rearing horse suspended her over his prick. She was straight up on his spurting cock, driving down onto it with every muscle in her body. Her legs constricted around him like a vise. Linda bent backwards. Her tits pointed up like searchlights. Her hair rippled like a flag in a hurricane. She shuddered all over with the power of her orgasm.
The horse thudded down again, and the bandit's pubes banged against her clit. Linda saw sheets of fantastic color. Her whole world collapsed around her. She felt nothing but the immense waves of her orgasm and the jabbing, stabbing, reaming strokes of his spurting prick. She felt him withdraw a fraction, and she fucked toward the bandit leader again.
Her pussy drained his balls. The rigid shaft was already wilting in her tight cuntal clasp. She heard shouts and cheers, and hands dragged her away from his cock. Linda tried to hold on with her legs, but a slap on the soles of her feet made her let go.
The other bandits weren't about to stop when the "general" had finished. Before Linda's suddenly empty cunt had stopped clamping down on emptiness, she was on her back in the dirt of the clearing. Another bandit jammed his prick into her cunt and stroked away.
Linda's pussy was dripping with semen and cuntcream. She wrapped her legs around the second bandit and thrust up at him. His prick slipped in like a lit candle. It heated the come drenched walls of her cuntsleeve instantly.
Linda writhed and rolled under him, grinding her hips mercilessly up at his prick. She felt him stiffen and start shooting almost instantly. She worked her ass frantically back and forth. She needed to grab another quick orgasm before his prick wilted and slipped out of her cunt.
And she did, but only barely. As soon as the man's rapidly fast hunching slowed, his compadres dragged him off. They yanked her to her feet and took her to the edge of the clearing. Shouts and cheers filled the air as she was tied, spreadeagled, between two trees. The ropes on her wrists and ankles were hardly snug before a third bandito started assaulting her cunt.
Tall and lovely, Linda was the perfect size to stand up and fuck. Her tits and the firm globes of her luscious ass made her irresistible. The next man wasted no time dropping his pants and having at her pussy. His hands roamed from her tits, pinching and squeezing, along her ribs, her waist, and down to her asscheeks. He adjusted the slant of his prick with one hand, and slipped in.
Linda's cunt was as hot and greasy as a glove full of melted butter. She felt the easy slide of cockmeat going in and the confident hands on her ass.-She started moving immediately. She twisted like a belly dancer, making the bandit circle his cock around in her gash. The heat in her belly grew. She was ready to come again. Linda let her head loll backward and prepared to let her cunt go crazy.
Suddenly she felt the hot, hard shape of another cockhead traveling up and down her asscleft. "No!" she shouted, losing the beat of the meat that slipped up and down her cuntchannel.
"Sir the man shouted, and his hand went over her mouth. Linda felt the obscene invasion of a hand smearing jizz and cuntjuice from her thighs to her rectum. The man grabbed handfuls of the greasy mess and worked it into her asscheeks, then slid his finger into her asshole. Linda wailed, the sound muffled by the hand on her mouth. She was desperate.
And the bandit behind her was desperately horny. He guided his cock along the inside of her thigh and put both hands on her ass. He spread her cheeks wide, pulling at the mounds until Linda thought her ass would split in half. The head of his cock pressed dead center on her asshole, hot and hard and thoroughly wet with the overflowing syrup from her cunt. With a single unstoppable shove, her assring parted around his knob. Linda wanted to die.
She hated herself for responding to the first bandit's prick. She loathed herself for fucking the second and third men. The ultimate disgust came when the fourth man's cock slithered so easily into her stretching asshole and Linda felt her cheeks tense.
The cock in her cunt paused, then stroked back a fraction. The man fucking her ass slipped more meat up the tube, swiveling his hips, Linda felt full enough to gag. Two cocks moved in opposite directions in her crotch, veering off the thin membrane between and filling her to exhaustion. Her whole lower belly was full of prick, and she couldn't even scream.
Linda sobbed with mingled heat and disgust as the men matched the rhythms of their strokes. The cock in her ass ascended, and the prick in her pussy slid down.
When only the head of the cunt-cock was in her, they reversed. Linda churned inside.
Either her cunt or her ass was full, and the other channel ached with sucking emptiness. Linda felt sweaty manflesh against her ass and the wiry curls of a prickbush tangling in her cunthairs. She groaned with the excess of fucking, and the men speeded up.
The cock in her cunt moved faster. Atone point, both pricks rammed up into her at the same time. Linda thought she would split wide open. The horrendous sucking hollow in her belly threatened to turn her inside-out when she felt them both sliding back, and the next instant filled her full again. Her ass felt completely loaded, and her cunt was already starting to tighten. Linda wept.
The two bandits accelerated. Linda went limp. She lost control of her muscles. She couldn't do anything to help herself, not even move her hips. Her asshole and her cunt tightened and relaxed around the two cocks. The heat in her loins grew.
And grew. Linda dangled between the men like a puppet. The fuck motions of their cocks pushed her hips forward and back. The bandit in her cunt started swiveling, and the ass-rapist followed. Now both her ass and her belly had male bodies slithering sweatily against them. Both her cunt and her asshole stretched sideways, forward, back. Linda felt a huge charge of heat building up in her, and she wailed. Even now, even with two cruel, perverted pricks, stabbing into her ass and her cunt at the same time, her body was going to come. She hung from the ropes and let herself go.
There was no stopping it. Linda felt her body tensing, swaying back and forth between the two men. She dreaded the onset of the feelings. The powerful urges in her loins increased. The obscene vulgarity of a prick wedged deep in her ass had frightened her the first time. Now the power of that perverse release would combine with the rippling waves of a cuntal orgasm.
And every stroke brought it closer. The membrane between the two cocks was losing sensitivity. Both pricks battered at it. The men were getting ready to shoot, and Linda knew the last, spasmodic jerks of their cocks would set her off. She tried to calm herself. She thought of everything but sex. She breathed deeply, then held her breath. The inexorable tension built up inside her. The knowledge of her next come hung above her like a cliff-face.
The man behind grabbed her tits. Her nipples squirted between his fingers. Linda felt the sharp agony of twisted nipples searing the whole mound of each tit. He pawed at her bosom, mashing the globes tight against her chest. His long, hard strokes pulled nearly out of her ass before battering back in. His belly slapped her ass, as loud as cannon firing.
The man in front gouged at her buttocks. He levered his hips at her, yanking her cunt onto his prick. The head of his cock slipped completely out. His next stroke ripped cunthair from her labia and jammed his shaft ball-deep in her cunt. The bruising force of his pubes on her clit made a lightning bolt flare in Linda's brain. He fucked back again, then threw cock into her. Her womb bounced away from the powerful ridge of his bloated prick.
The assfucker slowed down. He grunted savagely in her ear. Every brutal stroke of his prick seemed to tear her asstube loose. Knives of pain sliced from her asshole to the middle of her belly. The flesh between the two holes stretched.
Both men pulled back. Like a hammer meeting an anvil, their cocks blasted up her cunt and ass. They pulled back again. The watching bandits cheered.
Linda's head arched back. Her spine bowed with the simultaneous suction from both emerging cocks. She was a hollow, empty shell from her throat to her crotch.
They rammed up and in. Linda felt the shuddering release of their sperm. The lining of her asstube burned. Lava-like jizz poured into her ass. She heard the cheers of the other bandits. Her mouth snapped shut. The first burst of painful orgasm ripped through her. Every nerve in her body screamed. Over and over and over again her cunt and her asshole spasmed shut on the pistoning pair of pircks. An earsplitting yell tore from her raw throat. Her belly was full of semen, her crotch was full of jerking, twitching, spewing male meat. She tensed against the ropes, dragging her hands and feet in. Spasms racked her. She bent the saplings they'd tied her to. The leaves rattled.
The next shock wave of relief hit her, and Linda fell apart. Her fingers starfished out. Her cunt was milking madly at one prick while her asshole shimmied around the other. She babbled and wailed, shouting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" at the top of her lungs. She swore then, babbling until frothy spit sprayed ten feet away from her. Totally out of control, her mind blanked while Linda's body went on coming, clasping, tensing, until the two bandits could barely drag their shriveling pricks out of her holes.
Linda curled and rolled against the ropes, moving her hips in the constant rhythm of orgasm. The bandits watched in awe as the tall redhead slung her body around, her long hair flying. Semen and cunt cream and a pinkish froth of blood spattered the ground under her. With a last huge jerk, her hips snapped forward. Her head slumped onto her chest. Linda hung there, motionless. The marveling banditos slowly walked away.