Chapter 11
Jody knew she had him swayed toward abandoning her burial alive, but there was no satisfaction it. She acknowledged the age-old, animal instinct of survival. Idly, fleetingly, she wondered how many people--women and men-down through history, had debased themselves, or allowed themselves to be degraded to keep on living.
She wouldn't let herself think about how many had been unable to rationalize surrender to carnal appetites and had gone insane--or committed suicide.
Clemson moved slightly across the hole from her and she glanced at him quickly. His eyes had narrowed as he stared at her nudity, posture of abject docility. She lowered her gaze and studied the slow tenting in his pants.
"You want the goodies I got in my yum-yum basket?" Clemson wheezed. She read a wavering between his original plan and his desire for her to follow through. And she knew she would have to make a move, or she would be tossed into the shallow trench and interred alive.
A quick look at his narrow, bony face prompted her to edge forward, grovel into and across the crude grave. Indecisively, she watched him brace his feet in the bottom of the hole, his bulging crotch less than a foot from her flushed face. She laid trembling hands on his thighs, fanned out her fingers, thumbs just inches from the clear, lewd outline of his genitals.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hey, yeah," Clemson breathed heavily.
Jody reached for the beltless waistband of his pants and freed the button. The zipper slipped slightly and she saw black tendrils of his pubic hair. "Get a goin'," Clemson encouraged, leaning back and bracing his weight on stiffened arms.
She lifted the zipper tab and the fly of his pants parted with a faint hum of metal. She could see the bent crown of his upper penis. She sensed his tensing and hesitated a moment before unsnapping the waistband of his boxer shorts. Clemson lifted his bony rump from the side of the grave and she worked his clothing down to his knees and stared at his peter as it twitched and began to lift jerkily as it fattened and lengthened. The glans seemed to crawl from the foreskin, reminding her of a turtle extending its head from the skin bellows of its neck.
"By God, I think you have come around," Clemson sighed as she tentatively took the length of his rod in her right hand. "I had a feeling you had a streak of perversion in you. And you like cock-socked in your throat and up your snatch. You had a wild look in your eye when that nigger cornholed you, too. I gotta remember to hump my prick up your asshole. I like to ram it up a gal's butt and listen to her squall and beg for more cock in her guts."
Jody was numbly aware of a wilting of spirit and pride as she curled the fingers of both hands around his hardening shaft and began jacking him off rapidly, feeling his massive hunk of sex-meat achieve full length and girth. For a moment, she doubted she would be able to suck his prick because of its immense dimensions, but she remembered the size of the black's prodigious dong--and she had taken him.
Clemson's groaning was loud and erratic as she flogged his obscene meat, milking sex-lubrication from the snake's eye in the blunt glans. Resigned to what she must do and with determination to do it and have it done with, she inhaled deeply and plunged her wide open mouth down on his fuck-sensitive shaft.
Intuitively, she knew she had to continue titillating him as she gave him a blow-job and satisfied his perverted cravings. She swished her tongue around the plum-slick knob of his prick and sucked hard.
He moved his knees to crush her breasts flat against her ribs. "Go to it, cunt-slut," he groaned, "suck my cock 'til I fire a wad of jizz all the way into your stomach."
She moved her hands inside his Veed thighs and coddled his heavy, hair-matted balls. "Oooooo," she purred, hating herself, tasting the clear honey she vacuumed from his hose. She rolled his stony nuts around with both hands and stared, cross-eyed down the blood-veined length of his cock to the bristly bush of pubic brush. For a long moment, she watched as she began fucking her mouth avidly up and down on his shaft, the thick head bounding against her tonsil area and gouging into her throat.
There was grim satisfaction in the knowledge she had the demented man under control. "Lovely cock," Jody cooed, mouth-fucking her captor faster and faster. There was a rumble of revulsion in her guts and she yearned to have him done. "Come on, Clemson," she blubbered around his swollen, pulsating knob. "Cum! Shoot your jizz and we'll have a beer and you can give me a good fucking.
"And--corrrrrnhole me," she added defiantly, hoping to cement her survival from a lonely, unmarked grave somewhere, in these desolate mountains. Valiantly, she went down, down, down on his impaling cock, feeling she was being gored. More and more of his vibrating prick vanished into her face, burrowing its way into her gulping gullet. She milked his balls and let her tongue rasp the sensitive underside of his grotesque cock.
She sensed he was rapidly racing toward his enervating ejaculation and she mouth-fucked him vigorously. "I think I'm becoming a sex-hungry animal," and she growled with a gurgle as she gobbled his cock.
His howl of pleasure-pain alerted her to his approaching climax and she dived her mouth down on his expanding prick to take his gush of jizz far down her throat so she wouldn't have to taste it, have it spurting and spewing in her mouth. She resolved to keep sucking his prick until he pushed her away when her gulping his cock became pleasurably unbearable. She squeezed his balls and let him knee her off his dwindling tusk of flesh. Then she stood weakly, crawled from the hole and plodded toward the motor home.
She hard him stumbling after he.
"Get out two beers," he muttered. "And we'll fuck after while and get you liking having your asshole fucked and talk about getting out of here."
Instead of getting out the beer, Jody wordlessly got down two large tumblers, filled one a third full of vodka and the other more than half. She put in ice and filled the glasses with orange juice. With languid disinterest, she handed a glass to Clemson sitting in the driver's seat and kept the loaded one for herself. She took a large swallow bravely not looking at Clemson.
"Smart-dumb little bitch," he snorted, "dumping the booze in my drink to get me drunk to save your cunt and asshole from getting reamed."
She glanced at him briefly, unable to keep the look of contempt from her lips and eyes. She started to lift her glass again.
"Swap," Clemson growled. "Let's just trade drinks, Jody. You get snockered, not me. I'm sure you'd be just as good as fucking when you're stoned as when you're sober. As a matter of fact, I think it would loosen you up and your butt hole would be a real juicy, snug fuck."
She remained at the table and let him come to switch glasses. Covertly, she watched him curiously as he glared at her, tasted the drink. His grin twisted his lips into a smug curve. "You ain't so fuckin' clever."
"Hey, Babe," Clemson chanted; standing. Jody cowered into the dining nook, thinking that her deductions were all wrong, he was coming to plunder and gore her pussy and rectum right now.
"We agreed," Clemson started sluggishly, blinking his eyes against a fuzzing of vision, "that we would do whatever I said you would do. Got that? Don't forget I got that shovel and I can dig you another hole!"
Jody cringed, fear gnawing at her mind and turning her half-sick at her stomach. "When did you figure on pulling out of here?" she asked warily, timidly that he might flare with resentment over her wanting to leave.
"Ah, hell, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow sometime," he mused clumsily.
"Probably a good idea," she agreed softly, watching him spill drink down his chin as he lifted the glass drunkenly. And an hour later, she helped him to his bunk, swung his feet onto it and took his empty glass. "Gonna take a nap?" she asked sympathetically.
"Yeah. Yeah, guess so," he mumbled. "Wanta take off my pants and get at my cock? You can take it out and play with it and suck it. If you can blow-job it hard, you can top-ride it and have yourself a good fuck--even if I am too, too bombed to cum."
Jody stepped back, studying him. "No, I don't think so. I'll wait 'til you're in the mood and we can do it--you can get it hard and fuck me." And she closed the drapes over his bunk. He was already snoring.
Through the rest of the afternoon, Jody brooded about what she was becoming, how relatively easy it had been to crawl across that hole and go down on Bert Clemson. She was baffled, her conscience not provoking the condemnation and demoralizing agony she had experienced when she was forced, to suck the black's cock.
When the sun had lowered, throwing a blanket of deep shadow into the canyon, she quietly left the bus and strolled to the big rock and quiet pool. As she submerged her body into the cool water, she wondered how it was that a person's mind and body could be spiritually and physically resilient, able to blot out tragedy, after a passage of time. Objectively, she reasoned that she would be able to put this gloomy segment of her life behind her, if she ever got away from Clemson. The course she had to follow, she speculated logically, was do whatever she had to in order not to arouse his close-to-the-surface violence.
She would have to accept whatever he compelled her to do. Couldn't she do that? In order to thwart being beaten, even killed? Could he do anything more horrible to her than she had already absorbed? All he could do, she mused, was screw her again and again. And do it in her bowels. But the black man had done that and, surelv, Clemson's prick stabbing into her anal passage couldn't be any more painful and degrading than having her rear hole screwed by a black man. Hadn't his--cock--been thicker and a little longer? And if he insisted that she suck his prick again, hadn't she already done that? Some would say voluntarily, too, wouldn't they? And it hadn't hurt her, physically, plunging her mouth onto his powerful prick. Yes, it had sickened her and it would be a long time before she could bury the disgusting memory in some dark niche of her mind. But, wasn't that better than being dead and buried? Of course. Yes, she agreed wearily, concedingly, she could tolerate his assault on her pussy and her butt and her mouth with his lustful cock.
Then she pushed it from her mind, washed and went to bed.