Chapter 8
Drifting snow blew over Sherrie's collapsed body, but she felt no cold. For a stricken moment, she lay panting and weeping. Forcing herself to her feet, she stood statuesque under the thumbnail moon. In a state of near shock, she put one foot in front of the other before realizing she still clutched her boots in her hands. I lustily, shi' slipped into them and ran into the night.
The snows had abated, leaving a crisp layer of ice that crunched under the high heels of her boots. She ran until her lungs burned from icy inhalations and only then, at the fork of the road, did she stop to peek through the snow-laden boughs at the blood-red Swiss chalet. Above her the Crackerbox sign with the blonde in red hunter's underwear crooked a mocking finger at her. "Come Hunt With Me. . . "
"Hunt for flesh and blood," Sherrie muttered and pressed onward. To the cafe . . . the note. . . Harvey, whoever he was.
One foot in front of the other, she ran, slipping, tumbling into the snow drifts. She pulled herself up and wind milling her arms for balance, plunged on. Behind her, the munching sound of tires on fresh snow stung her ears, it was them . . . coming for her!
Paralyzed with fear, terrorized they might be after her, she jumped headlong into the ditch and waited for the splash of red brake lights to pass.
The next quarter of a mile might have been ten thousand. Darkness shrouded her, playing tricks on her sight and senses. Her mouth went bone dry, teeth chattering, though a heat suffused her shivering body. Then her legs stiffened, knees refused to bend. She stopped, grabbed her stomach, heaving for breath.
I hare to keep moving . . . or I'LL die . . . I have to. . .
The temptation to lie in the snow and give way to sleep nearly overwhelmed her. Squinting through strands of hair beaded in icy fingers to her forehead, she caught sight of the white building. The cafe! Eyes shot wildly over her shoulder. Nothing moved in the night. She was almost there. The cafe sign with its steaming cup of coffee, barely visible in the sparse moonlight, warmed her senses. Freedom. . . home.. . Chicago.
She stole around the corner to the small apartment where Harvey, whoever that was, must live. Frozen knuckles rose to hammer on the frosted glass.
Movement behind her sent her head flying. A scream died in her throat.
The door jimmied open so easily Jack swore the crafty old bastard was probably on the other side of it waiting to trap him. That suspicion proved false, Jack snickered to himself and fell to his hands and knees. He slipped his screwdriver back into his Levi's pocket and crawled hand over knee with the flashlight tight in his gloved fist.
Outside the white lumps of the Auto Fair parking lot with its unsold four million dollar inventory, the traffic had nearly stopped. Road reports warned travelers to stay home. For once in his life, Jack blessed the cursed snow.
Crawling past Bailey's mahogany desk with its swivel chair, Jack levered up onto the cushion and rested his elbows. Fleeting curiosity made him wonder how many times Bailey's plump assed little secretary had knelt on her knees in this very spot, sucking off the old fart. Reaching down, he felt knee spots in the carpet. Bustard. . . .
It was an arm's reach away; the metallic shape shining from the reflection of the parking lots' pole lights. When he'd first started work as underling used car salesman, Jack had surreptitiously watched his father-in-law playing with the safe. The man appeared to have a fascination for turning the combination, and the numbers were imprinted in Jack's brain. No money was kept inside the box; checks and cash were taken to the bank religiously, Bailey saw to that.
With sure fingers, fired with adrenalized revenge, Jack screwed to the right once, stopping at 18, to the left twice pausing at 0, back to 18 . . . and slip, His throat went dry as the heavy metal door creaked open. Flashlight clamped in his teeth, he used both leather gloved hands and rifled through the stocks and bonds and accumulation of business papers. At last, at the bottom, he found the accordion pleated brown file that he'd caught Bailey stuffing papers into day after day when he was alone in his office. He slipped these into his coat pocket and muttered to himself:
"Now you got your evidence, officer. . . "
Sherrie's scream sliced the crisp night air. Her tiny fist few to her mouth.
A snarling German shepherd had trapped her to the wall! Its white fangs, dripped with saliva under a murderously rippled upper lip. Its sleek, sinewy, dark body was preened to spring: legs rigid, ears pinned back, eyes glaring into its victim's fear-dilated pupils. A death threat rumbled from deep in its throat.
Above Sherrie's left shoulder, a light flicked on in the cafe apartment. The shadow of a man pressing his nose to the window reflected on the frozen ground.
Oh, please . . . she prayed, daring not to speak, call the police. . . Help meeee! She tried to scream, but it died in her throat.
Fear killed hopes and part of Sherrie Turner as Harvey, pressing his nose to the glass, recognized the terrifying killer beast from the Crackerbox pinning a runaway to his wall. He wanted no part of that action.
like his ignorant, bullheaded sister, this one deserved to die a dirty prostitute. Probably the name city butch who came looking for the place a couple of days ago, he thought to himself.
With a gruff snicker, Harvey flicked off the light switch and crawled back into bed. He heard the voices a minute later . . . a woman screaming in pain and the commanding bellow of an irate man. With his head buried under the pillow to muffle the violence, he prayed Southworth would not suspect him of abetting one of his runaways. This hick town might be dull, but he wasn't ready to become a statistic.
He punched at his pillow, folded it over and tried to relax into sleep; yet the lingering image of his lovely black-haired sister barely turned eighteen stuck in his mind. A young girl packing her suitcase and running away from a drunken, abusive stepfather . . . only to become involved with a man far more volatile, haunted him 'til morn. By then the screams and pleadings for help had died in the snow. Maybe by morning, he thought glumly, he'd find a half eaten female carcass on his delivery doorstep.
He hoped not-for his sake.
Home in Chicago in her warm bed, sleeping late into the morning. . . what joy! Sherrie decided to roll over onto her side and cuddle her arms under her pillow, and lay like two spoons next to her sleeping husband.
"Mmmmm.. . " She lifted her arm. It refused to move. Again she pulled.
"Don't hurt yourself," a raspy female voice warned. "You'll need your strength for later."
Myra stared down at her rope-tied victim for a long assiduous moment. "Wake up, baby, and see what Myra has for you!"
The voice steamed of violence, awakening the captured escapee with a start. Sherrie's fear reached the point of tears as she gawked breathlessly up at her tormentor's firm legs and thighs and naked, heavy breasts, the glistening milky mounds goose-bumped with excitation. Sherrie had never seen a naked woman from this angle before. The older woman's thickly furred pussy was a sniff away; she could see the cuntal lips moist and pink and pouting for attention.
A low moan sounded from the other side of the wall. Myra cocked her head in that direction. "That's your friend Anna.. . in the chamber. That's the reward she gets for letting my precious go. Ah, but our dog has a nose for cunt just as I do. I'll bet my sweet was surprised to wake up in her bed."
Sherrie wanted to die. So it was Anna who'd let her go. Why? Why had she risked the horrors of the chamber to help a stranger go free? But those questions were hardly meaningful in the face of Myra's naked nudity hovering over her. A quiver of mutinous curiosity shivered in Sherrie's brain; an inkling of Myra's hedonistic demands crept into the numbed recesses of her libido.
"No, please.. . no, I won't.. . I swear.. . you can kill me, but I won't. . . " Sherrie shook her head violently, struggling to flip onto her back. Wiggling like a stuck worm, her tied ankles and wrists, still chafed from the chamber chair, ached numbly. She thrashed her head at what seemed to her the ultimate perversion. Being forced into having sex with a rapist husband and a mechanical chair was mortifying enough, but being forced into sucking and licking another woman's genitals was enough to make her sick.
Chills of repulsion crawled up the captive's spine. This perverted creature would not stop until she'd had her fill of another woman's flesh. That was sick and ugly.. .
The breath hissed from her lungs. The buxomy woman crawled upon the bed, and with one foot on either side of Sherrie's naked rib cage, straddled her victim. The fleshiness of Myra's buttocks flattened on Sherrie's breasts and the nearness of the woman's steaming genitals a tongue's lap away, made her turn her head in disgust.
"Come on angel baby, eat Myra's pussy . . . in nice little laps . . . pretend you're a mother cat and Myra's cunt is your pussy. Clean it baby," she cajoled in a silvery voice which, in other circumstances, might have been intoxicating. Sherrie refused to flutter an eyelid. "I might let you go if you're good to Myra.. . "
The straining young captive frozen when Myra slid her creamy nakedness forward until her black-fuzzed pussy hovered a few threatening inches over Sherrie's fear-gaping mouth. For a few tantalizing moments, Myra's steaming cunt wafted over Sherrie's wide pink lips and the alarmed girl eyed the fleshy thighs above her with shivering dread, defiantly pressing her lips together. She steeled her resistance by telling herself if she allowed herself to feel a crumb of eagerness in this degrading perversion, as she had on the machine, she would be forever tainted and plunged to Myra's animal level of morality. She might be forced to commit his sinful act, but she couldn't be forced into enjoying it.
And yet Sherrie could not fight a finger-wagging undercurrent of curiosity in her adrenalin-powered body as she gazed up at Myra's swollen pussy lips, the wet flanges opening like a fish's mouth at feeding as they lowered inch by quarter inch toward the target of Sherrie's helpless mouth.
In that terrifying infinitesimal fraction in time, it didn't seem possible to the runaway wife that the obscenities assaulting her could be real. A few days ago she had been a normal housewife, picking up beer cans after her husband and nagging about the overflowing garbage can. As the fearful wife strained nakedly at her bonds, the stunning reality of her defenselessness struck her with the force of an H bomb.
The sun streaking through the balcony window splashed golden shadows over the creamy mounds of Myra's ripe flesh. Her ripely curved ass cheeks hovered like a Greek statuette, and the woman's passion soaked pussy slit, a nose length away, filled her nostrils with the heady scent of naked lust. She swore if she could see straight through to this woman's soul, it would be hellish black.
"Ahhhhh!" Myra's squirming hot cunt rested on Sherrie's pouting lips and the startling contact of wet, burning cuntal flesh against her parched lips was like a kiss of lust that left the shivering woman dazed and gasping for breath. She tightened the line of her lips, resisting, sobbing at her utter humiliation, aware that the dark-haired woman had wetted the pad of her finger and was rubbing salaciously at the puckered ring of her anus.
"Suck my cunt, precious!" hissed Myra angrily above her, grinding her raw pussy flesh savagely over Sherrie's resisting, soft lips.
"Never!"
"I said suck my cunt, precious," the threat rang in Sherrie's ears, "or Anna is going to die in the chair. That would hardly be showing appreciation, now wouldn't it?"
Indeed, the low moans of agony had sharpened to razored shrieks on the other side of the wall. Something about good Samaritans flitted through Sherrie's miasmaed mind as tentatively, she wormed her tongue into the slippery depths of her tormentor's hot, swollen vagina. Self disgust crawled over her body like baby snakes as she lapped at the older woman's perfumed flesh, struggling against the strangely bizarre excitation rising in the pit of her empty belly as Myra's vaginal juices seeped into her dry mouth like sweet fire.
Sherrie feared she had reached Myra's sewer level of morality when the older woman grunted out her pleasure and scraped the kinky pubic curls foresting her dripping pussy back and forth over the horrified girl's mouth, as though that were a male stalk of meaty flesh between her thighs instead of her victim's reluctantly flicking tongue!
Sherrie Turner. . . if yon let yourself. . . like yon did in the chair.. . oh, no, something about these people gets to me. . . What magic did she possess, this pre-menopausal bitch, wondered Sherrie, thinking thoughts she'd never dared until happening into these people's clutches. The infectious excitation goose-bumping Myra's naked body, combined with the soft, babyish rubbing of her puckered anus, spurred Sherrie onto soaring heights of consciousness as the heady perfume of her rapist's hotly clasping cunt began to smother her face like a forbidden aphrodisiac. In a feverish moment, the trapped wife realized with crimson shame that she, too, had joined the chorus of moans and groans. Three women, caught in a web of blind-faced lust and shame, screaming out their masochistic yearnings.
The warmly seeping cuntal flesh piqued her taste buds in a febrile kiss of passion, heightened by the milky trickle oozing into her gaping mouth. What's happening to me? thought Sherrie, hell-bent for hysteria as Myra's probing finger worked ravenously at her sore but sensitive anal ring. I'm having sex with another woman and thinking jealously of the tortured woman next door who's getting the lapping tongue and want cock ramming up her belly. I want to be in the chamber chair, I want this woman's oozing juices. I'm sick!
Sherrie's mind reeled in desperate shame and utter confusion while her vulnerable body shuddered with chilling spasms of newly awakened desire. Desperately, she crushed her nostrils to Myra's pussy curls and lapped her tongue in churning circles into the woman's quivering cuntal hole, her velvety pink tongue snaking up into the milky slit, her mouth craving more of the sweet nectar seeping onto her coated lips and into her mouth.
Grunting sounds rumbling from her swan-like throat, Sherrie tugged at the thick ropes binding her wrists and ankles only to free her hands so she could squeeze Myra's voluptuously tanned buttocks and cram the bewitching woman's swollen pussy flesh more tightly to her hungry mouth, aware that of the chorus of obscene grunts and groans, hers were the loudest.-Beads of perspiration dotted her satiny forehead, her breasts, her stomach in a thin layer of dampness; and as she thrashed against the woman's probing finger, she felt a ruthless new hunger growing deep inside her body.
Her succulent lips encircled the oily nub of Myra's blood-swollen clitoris, sucking the lust inflamed button and wriggling her nose with ecstasy against Myra's scented cuntal fur. Mind and body split in that second of lustful greed, so that she watched objectively her rope-tied body squirming, listened to the febrile moans of sucking. And the ache in the pit of her belly grew like mushrooms on a rainy morn.
"Oh, my sweet precious angel," rasped Myra appreciatively, her liquid eyes rolling around in her head. "I.. . I knew you were oral. . . and Southworth wants to send you to Comstock Inn wh-where they do n-nothing but ass fucking.. . no.. . not for m-my precious angel mouth.. . . " Myra ground her soft, creamy hips in rising frenzy over Sherrie's puckered, milk-coated lips. "Ohhh . . . you suck like a baby . . . I'm . . . going to cummm . . . ohhhh! Eat me, Sherrie. EAT ME! Oh, Christ," she hissed. "Your mouth is . . . un-nggghhhaaaa . . . so hot.. . so wild . . . suck harder, angel, lap it. . .unnnnngg gghhhhhh! AGGGGG HH-HHHHHH!"
Her chiseled features contorted with lustful bliss, as Myra dug the fingers of her right hand into her milky breasts and tweaked the nipples into diamond chips. With her finger, she probed the sphincter muscle of her captives' anus, never hurting, only taunting deliciously. Her exploding cunt locked in spasmic joy to the captive's savagely licking tongue. The black-haired lesbian's head lolled languidly, her intense eyes burning into Sherrie's chartreuse ones. The captive's long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings over high, flushed cheeks while she obediently lapped and sucked at the older woman's juices with babyish sucking of her puckered lips.
"Sweet baby, angel.. . oh your mouth!" Myra sang in a silvery peal of appreciation. Only a lesbian-virgin could give her this kind of spine-tingling orgasm, only an adorable young victim who'd unknowingly appeared at the Crackerbox door in need of work and a place to stay.
Now the hissing woman ground her quivering pussy flesh in wild, convulsive circles around Sherrie's deep fucking tongue, wishing she had a man's cock to shove between the sleek, satiny thighs clamped around her hand and fingers drubbing at the door of Sherrie's nether parts. Bending her head, she sank her teeth into Sherrie's soft, sweating palm as the smoldering climax fired in her loins. It erupted in violent surges and raced from the tips of her curled under toes to her bee-stung nipples, tearing a lustful groan from her throat.
Her heart beating in her chest, Sherrie darted her tongue into Myra's seeping vagina and licked with frenzied hunger the copious juices flooding into her mouth. The hot pungent moisture sparked a feverish desire in Sherrie's cum soaked mouth. She couldn't get enough of it, no matter how she nibbled and sucked and swallowed and licked. The torrents of Myra's raging orgasm rippled through her roped down body in electric bolts of naked bliss, and something so sweetly forbidden and wickedly wonderful about the commanding older woman's milky thighs thrashing against her face and soaking her cheeks with sweet pussy juice made the girl coo with guilt and lust.
Ohhh . . . Ahhhh . . . Next door Anna's grunts and moans of long denied pleasure hotly approaching the line of pure pain, echoed Sherrie's masochistic chorus.
Stabs of liquid fire from Myra's hot tongue searing through Sherrie's thrill racked anus made her shudder. Oh, to cum . . . to cum and put an end to the hellish, ticklish itch festering in her untouched pussy! Why wouldn't Myra venture her finger up a quarter of an inch and plunge her raping digit into the steaming depths of her burning cunt and offer her fulfillment? Grunting against the ropes, the helpless captive yearned to grasp her rapist's hand and plunge her fingers deep into the seething hole of her cunt.
Panicked with lust, Myra's hotly gushing cunt shuddered more softly against her victim's cum soaked mouth, and a few moments later Myra sighed with relief before prying her thighs free of the sobbing captive's cum-glistening face and rolling over onto the mattress beside Sherrie.
"You eat me so beautifully," mewled Myra, stroking her victim's face with the finger that had just probed into Sherrie's tender anus. "I haven't been eaten out like that for years." Her honeyed praise did nothing to quell the tickle in the pit of Sherrie's womb . . . or for her ailing self respect.
"Just think, my precious, you and I could spend a lifetime together licking and sucking each other, making love . . . and no one will ever know.
"Never" spat Sherrie. So what if she'd succumbed to the chamber's mechanical contraptions and watched her own pussy lips swell, watched the cum trickle down her thighs from the raping dildo. So what if she'd nearly drowned in another woman's sexual juices. She still had her pride, a little bit of Bailey in her, even if the Turner had no backbone. Yes, she decided instantly. It was the Turner that had succumbed to indecency . . . not the Bailey.
Staring into Myra's wildly glinted eyes, she knew that even if she promised this woman a lifetime of lesbian joy, Myra would not untie her.
"You're sick," sobbed Sherrie in a raspy voice. "You'll never break me. . . not you or that ugly man or your stupid machine. You can torture my body, you filthy sex maniac . . . but never, never will you taint my soul!" Scalding tears of hysteria tumbled down her bruised cheeks.
"Oh, am I?" the sultry brunette's lips puckered into a tight smirk; she inspected her blood-red fingertips "Deep inside that puritanical soul, you're one hot cunt . . . one of the hottest who's walked through our door. You're afraid of your own sexuality, angel mouth . . . but once you get over that fear there would be no stopping you."
Sherrie's gasp caught in mid-breath. She clamped her teeth over cum-encrusted lips. As demoralized and humiliated as she'd been in the past few days, she had cum from the buzzing whirr of mechanical sex toys, and swallowed a woman's cum. The pressure of a finger on her soft flesh shot electrical charges through her nerve-racked, bruised body, Centering in the empty pit of her womb.
Of all the pain and fear she'd suffered at the hands of the diabolical pair, none was greater than the fear that Myra's judgment was correct. Why didn't they just kill her . . . and stop forcing her to face the depthless wonders of Sherrie Turner's repressed sensuality?
"Excuse me, darling, I have to go unplug the machine before our traitorous Anna bleeds to death." The naked woman lifted from the bed.
In the chamber, Anna's strapped down naked body was sheened with perspiration. Myra sucked in her breath as she opened the door, surprised perhaps, that her maid's firm, modelesque body had lost none of its lusciousness in these years of captivity.
Black strands of hair wisped about her high cheekbones, dappled with satiation. The firm mounds of her breasts rose and fell with deep inhalations. A strange tilt to her full upper lip hinted at something diabolical and unspoken.
Myra read the cryptic message. "You've lost none of your animal instincts over the years, Anna."
Anna's dark eyes fell shamefully. In the steamed mirrors, the swollen blood-fed folds of her cuntal lips attested to that animal urge. Could it be she had freed the captive because secretly she craved the masochistic perversions of the chamber? The thought cut through to her soul. Had these years of abstinence driven her to self destruction?