Chapter 11
"Big Ed" Dalton had made a sensational haul the same afternoon that Marva and Jane had got themselves lured onto the motorbikes of Buck and Davy, and taken to the gang's headquarters in the little abandoned farmhouse off Highway 101.
The heavy-set, towheaded and moronic gang leader, though loyal in his own irascible way to the mature waitress Marge, had begun to think it was time for new pussy. After all, Marge was nearing thirty, and she sure wouldn't get any younger or better looking. Sure, she contributed quite a few ideas, and she'd sure helped initiate some of the "debs" when it had been time for pussy-fun and finagling and stuff. She had even suggested a couple of quick raids on certain stores which weren't too well protected at certain times of the day. Sure, he owed Marge, but what the hell, he'd been her steady stud for over a month now, and she'd got her share of the loot, like a couple of new dresses and a new compact, and even a TV set which she could use once in a while on the old electric generator he and his buddies had just stolen about ten days ago in a store on the outskirts of LaMesa.
But this afternoon, while cruising out near Cuyatoga, which is exactly where he had found Marge in the first place. "Big Ed" and Dan Randall, a nineteen-year-old black-haired, chunky leather-jacketed tough who lived with a widowed uncle who was infirm and almost senile, had spied two of the tastiest pieces of cunt they'd ever laid eyes on.
What had happened was that a Pontiac had annoyed them by blowing its horn and trying to pass, and finally had. Both "Big Ed" and Dan Randall had shaken their fists and sworn that one day they'd settle accounts. And fate had played a cruel hand so far as the occupants of the Pontiac were concerned and, for the two toughs, had brought about the day of reckoning on the very same day the reckoning had been thought up.
"Big Ed" and Dan had stopped at a roadside hamburger stand for two cheeseburgers and cokes. Greatly refreshed, they'd been talking about pulling a heist, on a little food store about a mile north down the road and getting some supplies and maybe a coupla bucks the mamas could use for pretties. When they got back on their bikes and revved up down the road, there had been this same Pontiac stalled off the road, with a woman in the front seat desperately trying to start up the motor, which she'd already flooded. It didn't take any dummy to see she'd already flooded it and done a pretty good job, and also that there was something wrong with her transmission and carburetor too.
"Big Ed" had taken one look at the woman in the driver's seat and then at the one beside her, and let out a low whistle of admiration. Dan had imitated him. They were obviously mother and daughter, and they were stacked. They were also beautifully dressed. It meant dough, maybe a snatch for dough, and ransom. It was risky, but it was worth trying. First of all, they had Nevada license plates.
"So "Big Ed" had got off his bike and gone over to the car and tipped his helmet and glasses up and said in a wheedling voice which he could assume on occasion when he wanted to make a good impression, "What's the trouble, lady? Maybe me and my pal could help, we're sort of good on cars and bikes and stuff."
"Oh, could you? That'd be wonderful! My daughter and I started out yesterday from Reno to visit my cousin in San Diego, and I'm afraid I drove this car too hard and it just won't go any more. And I tried to stop a couple of cars down the way, but nobody'll stop and help."
"That's the way people are in California, Lady," the leader of the "Leather Lashers" grinned. "Lemme get into the car and fiddle around and see what's the problem. Dan, open up the hood and take a squint, huh?"
So Dan had opened the hood, and first of all there was an ignition wire that was frayed, and the oil pipe was leaking, and the car was in one helluva mess. It only had about thirty thousand miles on it, but it had just been driven badly and not given enough care. In the front seat, with the two females huddling towards the right-hand window, "Big Ed" had fiddled around and found out exactly what he had known in the first place. The car was a dead duck and it would take at least a day for repair, maybe more.
"Tell you what, lady," he said as he lit a cigarette and stared appraisingly at this snatch of snatch-which in his moronic mind was a helluva joke. "I can give you and your daughter a lift on our bikes down to a repair shop I know down the road a piece, and he'll come back and fix your car up good. Maybe there's a motel you can stay in a while. You ain't gonna go nowhere in this car, lady. It's shot."
"Oh dear! But aren't we kind of close to San Diego?"
"Mebbe about forty miles. Don't worry, this is the best way. There ain't no bus on this highway or nothing else. And they don't hitchhike around here much-folks are sort of scared. You never know what you might pick up." This was an ironic wink to Dan, who winked back.
The older woman looked at her daughter and said dubiously, "What do you think, Sarah dear?"
"I think he's very nice to be so helpful, Mother," the daughter replied. "Anyhow, didn't I say you ought to have taken this car to the shop before you started out to see Cousin Sue? Anyway, it's beginning to look a little bit like rain, and I'd just as soon stay overnight here as try to go on to San Diego tonight, even if it is only forty miles."
"Well, maybe you're right dear. But-er-well-" turning to "Big Ed" with an appealing look, the older woman asked, "How can we possible ride those bikes?"
"It's easy, lady," the gang leader grinned. "You just sit behind me, hold on tight, and we're there before you know it. Nothin' to it. I'll take you, lady, and Dan can have your kid."
"Well, I guess it's the best way out of this terrible situation," the older woman sighed. The gang leader got out of the car and stood beside it, with another wink to Dan to be ready.
They had really captured a prize of two prime pieces of pussy this time. The mother was about thirty-six, with short-bobbed dark brown curls, a milky skin, and a kind of helplessly attractive face, the kind that always rouses the beast in a man. The girl, on the other hand, was about five-feet-seven, rather slim, just a little past seventeen. She wore a minidress which snowed magnificent long legs in smoke-colored pantyhose, and her bubbies were high-perched, closely spaced, big pears. She had an insolent face, a small ripe mouth and petulant, full lower lip, hazel eyes that looked right down at "Big Ed" and told him that she felt that he was just a little bit uncouth. She had raven-black hair which feel to her shoulders, with a straight fringe across the top of her forehead. Her skin was wonderfully creamy, while her mother's was the color of pale, clotted milk.
"I'll show you how easy it is, lady," the gang leader straightened his bike. "Here, you just straddle over that seat, see? And then I'll get on ahead of ya, and you putcher arms around me. My name's Ed. Ed Dalberg,"
Purposely he gave a false name, hoping that his sidekick, Dan, would get the idea. Dan did.
"I'm Dan Rority," the chunky younger tough said to Sarah. "Just do what your mom does, and you'll be great. C'mon, there's lots of room on this bike."
"We're awfully grateful. My name is Mrs. Thelma Haskins, and this is my daughter Sarah," the dark brown-haired matron made the introductions. She was wearing a dark brown cotton dress of very expensive cut, a little felt turban, and carrying a purse with a good deal of money in it. It was necessary for her to hoist her skirt a little and show her dimpled round knees and a little of her plump thighs in beige-colored nylons, in order to straddle over the seat of the motorbike. She blushed as she noticed that "Big Ed" was staring at her legs, but he gave her such a frank smile of admiration that she blushed again out of secret titillation.
Thelma Haskins has just divorced her husband on grounds of adultery, and he hadn't been there to contest it. He had also given her quite a sizable cash settlement, and she was thinking of visiting her cousin and making some inquiries about putting Sarah into one of the better women's colleges, because she had always heard that California had excellent educational systems.
Sarv was a problem child in more ways that Thelma Haskins knew. Not only was she insolent, but she secretly hated boys. She was secretly a dyke, and perhaps it was intuition and instinct which had led her mother to decide that moving from Reno to California might be a good change of venue for her daughter. For Sarah had been reluctant to come along on this vacation trip because she had been involved with a torrid pussy-rubbing affair with a cocktail waitress in one of the Reno nightclubs. The waitress had introduced her to the use of a dildo, so that while technically Sarah was virgin to the male, she had no cherry-a circumstance which "The Leather Lashers" were going to be overjoyed to find out about.
For Sarah, it was no problem fitting herself behind ,Dan, since her miniskirt already revealed even more of her legs than her mother believed was proper. Thelma Haskins was somewhat frustrated and neurotic, because for the past few years her husband had neglected her in bed and concentrated on his pussy-chasing. He had been a sort of jack-rabbit lover to begin with, so she had never really known what a good come was like. She was destined to learn and it would be her benefactor himself who would teach her the joys of a digging prick in a tender and neglected cunt!
They revved up their motor and started down the highway, heading towards the rendezvous. Since Thelma wasn't too certain of directions, she wasn't aware that they were going away from San Diego, rather than towards it. Sarah, on the other hand, who always tried to show off her knowledge, called out to Dan, "Aren't we going the wrong way?"
"Short cut, honey," he called back without taking his eyes off the road. "You hang on tight, baby. I don't want to have you smashed all over the highway. You're stuff."
"Just keep your remarks to yourself," Sarah said snippily. Dan didn't say anything, but what he was thinking would have made Sarah wet her pantyhose with apprehension . . .
When they turned off the highway and made their way down the dirt road which vanished entirely after a mile or two before they got to the abandoned farmhouse, even Thelma herself was becoming worried.
"Where's that repair shop you were telling me about?" she inquired anxiously.
"We have to stop and get some fuel for our bikes. It's still a ways down the road. Don't you worry-you'll be fine," the leader of 'The Leather Lashers" reassured her. But once the bikes were put away and the two females found themselves in front of this abandoned house hidden in a ravine out of sight from a higher level because of the thick buffalo grass saplings and other foliage which grew abundantly in this area, Sarah called out to Thelma, "I don't like this at all, Mother."
"Y'don't, baby?" Dan came up to her and put his hand against the back of her neck. "Mmmmm, just like a kitten, real soft and nice. Betcha you got other soft things I like to play with, Sarah baby."
'Take your filthy hands off me!" the young black-haired girl whirled and slapped Dan's face.
"Oh-oh, you oughtn't to have done that, bitch!" he growled. "You're gonna have to learn a lesson. Let's take these broads in, Big Ed, and see who's around."
"Now wait a minute, young man!" Mrs. Haskins cried, but the leader of the "Leather Lashers" had seized her, doubled her wrists behind her back, and was forcing her by bumping her from behind with his knee toward the door of the farmhouse.
As the two entered with their prizes, they heard the squeals and sobs and entreaties of both Marva and Jane. They could also see from the abandoned clothes of the teenagers lying on the floor near the couch that there had been a little action in their absence, and they grinned at each other.
"Hey there! Front and center."
"Big Ed" bellowed. "Help me with these new bitches. We've got some new debs to 'nishiate!"
"Let us go-oh my God-they trapped us-they tricked us-" Thelma wailed.
"I know, Mother, and it's all your fault," Sarah said snippily. "I told you they were going the wrong way, but no, you wouldn't listen."
"Now you listen for a change, you snotty little black-haired slut."
"Big Ed" snarled doubling his fist and shaking it into Sarah's suddenly scared face, "I give the orders here, and you're gonna dance to them, hear? You and your mom are gonna give us guys some fun. If you're nice and do it good, we won't rough ya up much. Hell, we'll even take you back to San Diego beach, in your birthday suits, hawhawhaw!"
Ken, Hank, Davy and Buck now emerged from the back room where they had been amusing themselves watching Ruth and Elsie girl-love the two weeping teenage captives Marva and Jane. When Mrs. Haskins and her daughter saw the boys emerge, their leather jackets unbuttoned, their flies open and their pricks dangling out, they uttered shrikes of horror and tried to run for the door, but their captors were too much for them.
"Hey, look what I got."
"Big Ed" chortled, tearing away Thelma's purse and flinging it to Ken. Ken rummaged in it at once.
"Holy Cripes! Ed, there's over two hundred bucks here, and some credit cards and stuff."
"Keep it. That'll pay for their keep," the gang leader chuckled. "Who you got in the back room there, yelling like that?"
"Oh, a couple new debs me and Davy picked up in LaMesa," Buck explained with a leer. "Real sexy stuff, Ed. The black-haired one's mine."
"Okay with me. We got pussy here galore, and I ain't sure yet whether or not I'm gonna take Sarah for my mama, or her mom, Thelma. I sort of like Thelma a little better, account 'a she's stacked and she knows what fuckin's all about. Say, Sarah cutie, speak up when you're spoken to-you ever been fucked?"
"No, you filthy beast, you mind your tongue!" Sarah gasped, turning scarlet with mortification, even though she was really scared.
"That's another coupla extra licks you get with the belt on your bare ass, Sarah honey, when paddlin' time comes around," the gang leader jeered. "Buck, go up and tie and gag those little bitches you got. I suppose they're all naked?"
"Sure, that's the best way."
"Yeah. Anyhow, I don't want to hear them yellin'-I want to hear these two start when we make debs out of them," the gang leader sniggered.
Ken, Davy, Buck and Hank now took charge of the two frantic captives, twisting their arms behind their backs, forcing them down on the couch where they tied their wrists behind them, then their ankles.
"Now then, you two," the gang leader drawled with an obscene grin on his ugly face, "you're gonna answer a few questions, then we'll see what we'll do with you."
"You'd better let us go or you'll get into awful trouble. You can be put in the gas chamber for kidnapping," Sarah called out.
"Well, howdy a like that, you guys? We got a real smart bimbo here, but she's dumb in other ways. She jist said she'd never been fucked. Wonder if she's ever blown a guy. Have you, Sarah honey?"
"You shut your filthy mouth!" Sarah said with a frantic gasp, turning even redder than she had been before. The expression was one she had heard before, and the idea revolted her. The idea of servicing these leather-jacketed monsters, after she had used her mouth and tongue so lovingly on Marjorie Cordell, the waitress back in Reno, made her want to throw up.
How about you, Thelma?" the chief of the gang turned to contemplate the struggling, fuming matron. "You know how to blow a guy, huh?"
"I-I don't know what you mean-oh for God's sake, let us go-why do you want to keep us here like this?"
"Well, if that isn't the dumbest question I ever heard a broad ask," Dan grumbled. "I'll bet she don't know nothin'. "
"Hell, she knew enough to get this cute piece of cunt, so don't knock it till you've seen it," his superior grinned again, and Thelma Haskins turned scarlet with embarrassment at the obscene implication.
"But we're gonna find out all these things, and what they don't know, we'll teach 'em. Isn't that right?" the gang leader grinned wickedly.
"Of course, of course." the group chorused.
"Now I hope," said "Big Ed" with a leering wink. That none of the rest of the twirps show up, 'cause I got a certain yen in my cock and balls for these two sweet bitches. I mean, we get some more guys here, everybody'll want to fuck and they'll spoil the merchandise. We got six guys here now, and that's plenty. Besides, we still got the bimbos, yeah, Marge too. She told me she was gonna head back here about six, afer she handles a special job I lined her up with. Well, that's plenty for fun and games, huh?"
"Right on!" Davy cackled, wanting to make a good impression on "Big Ed." He jerked his thumb towards Sarah. "Damn shame I didn't see her first, though, 'cause I already got me a new mama. I'd just as soon take her, though."
"You'll take shit. I'm the leader here and you'll do what I say."
"Big Ed" rejoined with a warning look that made even Davy quail. "Davy and me, we found these bimbos, so we get first crack at their cracks. Yeah, that's pretty good, that is. Both their cracks, get what I mean?"
"Y'mean all three, "Big Ed, don'tcha?" Dan put in with a lewd gesture to his mouth. "Didn't you talk about blowing just then?"
"Goddamn if Dan ain't smarter than I am, this one time," the leader chortled. "Yeah, sure, mouth, honey hole and twat. Three cracks. Well, they're all gonna be cracked tonight. Hey, we got enough chow on hand and pop and wine and stuff?"
"Sure, only that damn Sterno stove you brought ain't workin' too good, Big Ed." Ruth now spoke up. She had put on a tattered man's shirt, the ends of which just covered her pussy-fur, and she wore bobby socks and sandals, the rest of her being bare as nature itself. Thelma looked at her and uttered a horrified cry, then reddened to see such indecency.
"You're delinquents!" she gasped. "I've read of such things, where teenagers run away from their homes and all that sort of thing. I'll bet you've got drugs, too. Oh, Sarah, Sarah, get the police r
"Oh sure, you hafta get the police," the leader of the gang teased. "like so many horse apples, sister. Hey, Ruthie, wriggle that sweet ass of yours out into the kitchen and see if you find a coupla bottles of pop. You got ice for that container, didn'tcha?"
"Yeah, sure, this morning, Big Ed."
"Good. For once you used your brains instead of your twat. Now go get me a bottle, I'm thirsty as hell. Can't fuck when I'm thirsty like this."
Ruth hurried into the kitchen and brought out a bottle of Coke, hastily uncapped it and brought it to the gang leader. He tilted back his head, poured the bottle down towards his gaping mouth, and the two captive females watched in horrified fascination as his big Adam's apple shifted and bobbed. At last he put down the empty bottle.
"Mmmmm, that was good! Now I'm gittin' more in the mood for snatch," he jeered. "First, I'm gonna take me a look at those two bimbos you guys picked up. Underage stuff, ain't they? San Quentin quail?
"Yeah, but can they fuck once they get their asses canned, Big Ed!" Davy put in, anxious to gain favor with his chief, eagerly vouching for Marva and Jane.
The perverted, moronic gang chief left the living room and went into the room with the old cot, staring greedily at the teenaged naked captives, gagged and bound now at his orders. He smacked his lips in anticipation. "I'll take care of you two bitches later," he promised. "Right now we got other things to do." He reached down and squeezed one of Jane's titties, then playfully pulled a sprig of pussy-hair out of Marva's cunt. Both girls writhed and mumbled through their gags. Big Ed broke into laughter, then strode back to the living roov.
"First, I wanna see what they've got. Strip 'em down to the undies," he commanded. Ken and Hank rushed to the couch and dragged Thelma Haskins onto her feet.
"Oh no-no-don't hurt me-please-you can have all my money and everything, only don't hurt me, please don't-oh, you're tearing my clothes, oh no-no, please don't!" she wailed. "Oh my God-please don't-oh help-oh my God-police-please help!"
They had ripped off her dress and slip, exposing her in a strap-on-bandeau secured to a lycra panty girdle. Her big, closely-spaced bubbles, without any noticeable sag, excited them, and Hank ripped off the bra. With her wrists bound behind her, Thelma shrieked because she could not cover her titties from all those gleaming eyes. She tried to twist her body around to face the wall, but the two young toughs forced her to stand there, facing the young rowdies, showing everything she had from her neck down to the waist.
"Nice," the leader smacked his lips. "I'll bet there is lot of milk in those udders, hawha-whaw! Okay, now for little Sarah!"
"Noooo-don't you dare-and take your filthy hands off me-no-Mother, they're taking off all my clothes-help me-oh Mother-oh God-oh, you awful filthy bastards!" Sarah screamed, her voice rising to a piercing cry as Buck and Davy ripped off her minidress and then her bra, leaving her in just pantyhose and sandals. Her big pear-shaped bubbies jiggled gloriously as she squirmed and twisted in their grasp. They turned her around now, showing a deeply hollowed slim back, a magnificent ass comprising two broad, firm ovals, upstandingly set, with a narrow but gradually deepening furrow as it neared the base. Davy, his left hand on the scruff of Sarah's neck, raised his right palm and gave her a hard, stinging slap across the right summit of her bottom, and Sarah uttered another piercing screech.
"Ohhh! Don't touch me-don't!"
"Now set them back down and tell them to behave themselves, you guys," the leader of the gang said as he stretched and scratched himself. "Where the fuck is Marge?"
What no one knew at the time was that Marge had gone back to Cuyatoga to case a small electronic supply shop that had plenty of radios, TV sets, and being only a little way off the highway, was a natural for a quick robbery. But Marge had got herself into trouble, and at the moment she, too, was a captive.
Her past had caught up with her. Marge had been married to a weakling. She had been sixteen at the time, and the marriage had lasted just four years. Marge's hot blood had thinned because of his lack of ability to fuck a girl properly and as often as she wanted. However, after the divorce, she had gone on to Los Angeles to work in a company run by a distant cousin of her mother's. His name was Bill Cecil, and he had forced her to spread her legs in order to hold her job, a liaison which went on for three years, until she broke it off in despair.
Bill Cecil had brought some of his friends over and informed her that she was going to have to earn her room and board by spreading for his friends as well as for himself. So then she had run away and become a waitress, which was where "Big Ed" had met her. Bill Cecil had retired from the company, after selling out his interest. He had a sweetheart in Cuyatoga and he had been visiting her this particular afternoon at about the time Marge had been casing the electronics shop, as fate would have it, and the girl had noticed Marge looking around, acting generally suspicious. She phoned Bill Cecil, who was staying at a motel on the edge of town, and he had come over.
Bill Cecil was now forty, with a hawk-like nose, a sarcastic face and even more sarcastic tongue, lean, wiry and hairy. He was a rutting bull in bed so Marge hadn't had to complain on that score, except that he made her do a few tricks she didn't care for-now, however, as "Big Ed's" mama, she did them and more. She still hadn't cared to blow a man, nor had she particularly liked to have a man finger her bum hole. Bill Cecil had told her, just about the time she'd run away, that some of his friends liked to string girls up and whip them and then brown them. Marge knew she'd never be able to go for a thing like that.
So now, just as she had been about to leave on the big motorbike that "Big Ed" had stolen for her and ride back to the gang headquarters to continue the good work begun on Jane and Marva, Bill Cecil had driven up in a brand new Thunderbird, bounded out of the car and grabbed her by the wrist.
"Not so fast, sister!" he had called. "You've been hanging around this place for an hour now, and I've got a pretty good idea why."
"You lemme go, Mister-hey-you-oh Jesus!" Marge had groaned, her face falling as she recognized Bill Cecil.
"Yeah! Come to think of it, I know you, bitch! Hell, I've laid you enough times! But what are you doing in that getup? Are you a ass or a hippie now? No, I got it! You're shacking up with some motorbike gangster-that's about your speed. Well, well, well, if it isn't a small world! Hey, Dorothy, come out here-I got the thieving little bitch."