Chapter 10
Was Mr. Bernard dead? She had thought so before, and then Dirk had dragged the teacher out to be blown, only to be kicked unconscious as he shot his wad down Wendy's throat. Alice kept screaming over and over that the poor man had been killed. But then, Alice was hysterical again, seeing and hearing things like a crazy person. Even Dirk frowned at what he'd accidentally turned the brunette into, talking about turning her loose into the desert like some unwanted animal.
They had finally tossed Alice back into the cellar, stifling her cries by shutting the door.
With Wendy, they had other plans. Some of the guys began sobering up, scratching their dirty, matted hair and talking about going back to the city. Dirk knew he had nearly used up the novelty of having the two girls as playthings. To think of something new taxed his brain. Jim came to the rescue, pulling out an old sawhorse he'd found behind the cabin. The top two-by-four was badly splintered, one of the rear legs shorter than the others.
Wendy still could taste Mr. Bernard's cum in her mouth as Dirk lead her to the sawhorse. She knew better than to resist. Looking over her shoulder she could see the eastern sky starting to turn gray. They had been beating and fucking her all night! Her stomach was growling. The gnawing hunger kept the tired girl awake as Dirk pushed her down onto her back, lining her spine up with the narrow board.
It hurt to rest like this, her hands pushed down to the sawhorse's feet while her asscrack split itself on the top board. She moved slightly, feeling the narrow hard surface pressing agonizingly up against her spine and jutting shoulder blades. Jim, ever ready with more rope, pulled her arms down to either side of the sawhorse's legs, binding her rubbed-raw wrists to the dirty wood in figure-eight knots.
Wendy let her head fall back, arching her spine slightly while pressing down on her ass to relieve some of the pressure against her spine. Jim was back at her ankles, pushing them in against the front legs of the horse, then slipping two more pieces of quarter-inch line around them and securing her legs to the device. She could feel him cinching the rope tightly around her legs, securing them so well she could hardly move her ass.
Dirk pulled down his Levi's after shedding his boots, slipping from his pants then opening his shirt. He was nearly naked when he straddled the teenager, his hairy, muscular thighs hugging her hipbones while his prick flopped down loosely and pressed against her belly. Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of her blonde hair, jerking her head up until her chin pressed against her sternum.
For a moment, Wendy thought he might want her to suck his cock. She had heard him comment once or twice about how good her cocksucking had been and how envious he was of the semi-conscious teacher. But his cock was still limp, not excited at all. She screwed up her face quizzically, feeling the biker start to move his hips in a strange way over her body. He bent his knees slightly, pushing his feet back until his heels were striking hers. Still, his prick remained limp.
Wendy stared up at him, her eyes rounding as she saw a droplet of something ooze from the piss slit. It wasn't pre-cum. He wasn't hard enough. It was piss!
"Nooooo!" she cried out.
Wendy tried jerking her head away, closing her eyes, refusing to look. He was going to piss on her! She heard the biker let out a beefy fart.
Some of the others drew closer, watching with curiosity.
"Gonna piss on the slut?" Red asked, fumbling for his prick.
"Yeah, man. She's a toilet. Might as well let her realize it."
"No, don't ... don't do this to me! Oh, God in heaven, please don't do this to me!" she wailed, feeling the bile rising in her throat.
But the clenching fist tugging and tearing at her hair told her otherwise. Dirk sneered down at her, his hairy balls pillowed against her body as one droplet of piss followed another more quickly. Wendy grimaced, feeling the hot stream start to flow over her belly. It began slowly, then became a spurting flood that spattered onto her flesh. She cringed, forced to watch as the twisting yellow stream shot into her navel, sending up a spray of piss that splashed onto her tits.
Dirk reached down with his free hand, gripping his cock and directing the stream of piss against the heavy underswell of her tits.
Wendy felt the stinging spray against her nipples, watched as the smelly piss slicked down her nipples, ozzing down her sides like yellow sweat. Dirk laughed cruelly, moving the stream up until he was spattering it against her chin. Horrified, Wendy shut her mouth tightly, refusing to open it even though the biker was twisting her hair and making her want to scream in agony. She could feel the hot droplets splashing off her piss-stained tits, stinging her cheeks and nose and forehead. Still, she refused to open her mouth.
Dirk twisted her hair harder, tearing strands out by the roots. Just when she thought she would scream anyway, he went dry. The biker cursed, letting her go while backing off and looking around for his jeans.
Red was next, ignoring the piss-soaked belly he straddled. The vile redhead was obviously ready to kill her if necessary to satisfy himself. He tugged and jerked at her hair. His piss shot out like water from behind a dam, striking her chin and soaking her throat and hair.
Wendy tried to keep her mouth shut, her chin trembling while Red sprayed more and more piss in her face. Her eyes stung from the salty, smelly piss while her soaked hair began to reek and smell like a sewer. Red raised his smooth, naked ass for a moment and doubled the fingers of his free hand. He punched down onto her belly hard, forcing the girl to let out a howl. That was what he'd been waiting for. Raising his ass a little higher, he grabbed hold of his piss-shooting prick and directed the yellow stream into her mouth.
Wendy thought she would die! The piss swirled around in her throat, spilling over her lips and dribbling down the sides of her face. For a moment, she forgot about the hard wood under her pressing against her spine. All she could think of was the foul taste in her mouth, of the piss foaming and splashing around her tonsils and throat as the guy emptied his bladder.
Finally, it was over. Red backed away, shaking the final few drops of piss against her face.
Wendy lay there, feeling as if she were the most worthless thing in the world. She could smell herself, and the odor was stupefying. The ground around her quickly absorbed the spilled piss, adding to the stale, sour odor.
Someone was hovering around her head. Looking up, Wendy caught sight of two bucketfuls of water just in time to close her mouth. The cold liquid cleansed her shivering body as she turned her head to one side and caught some of the water, rinsing her soured mouth as best she could. At least, she thought grimly, they had washed off the foul piss.
Alice was over Mr. Bernard, shaking him, looking at his chest, then shaking him again. Sometime during Wendy's humiliation, they had dragged the other girl from the cellar.
It was getting lighter, Wendy noticed. They would get nervous holding them there in the daylight. There would be patrols surely covering the area, searching for them. Maybe the bikers were going to let them go. Bound this way, her spine hurting her terribly, Wendy nevertheless felt a strange mixture of joy and sadness surge through her.
"Hate to let you go," Dirk said, looking ruefully down at the bound girl.
Wendy wriggled in her bonds, feeling the rope rubbing agonizingly, deliriously against her wrists and ankles. She knew what he meant. She could see it in his eyes that he understood her, and for one mad, insane moment she thought about asking to stay with him. That would be too sick!
Dirk untied her hands and legs, pushing her off the sawhorse and into the dirt. Wendy lay there obediently, afraid to move without permission. She knew how to play his game. She had learned quickly. And when she felt his boot press once more against the back of her neck, making her spine ache while he pushed her face into the dirt, Wendy felt something like pleasure and fear mix delightfully in the pit of her belly. He was wiping his boots on her, nudging her with the toe of his boot, then lifting her roughly from the ground.
She found herself facing the cabin. He was breathing heavily against the back of her neck, his hands pinning her elbows behind her back until her shoulders hurt while he jabbed his knee into her lower back.
"Take a good look at this place, baby, 'cause you'll never see it again. We're gonna drop you people off a ways from here. And you and that cunt over there are gonna keep real quiet about all this, okay?"
Wendy nodded her head, looking at Alice. The girl was stroking Mr. Bernard's face, too terrified to understand. She would talk with Alice later. She would calm her. Mr. Bernard, she was certain, would be lucky if he remembered anything. The bikers and their secret hideaway cabin would be safe from the authorities.
"Too bad we can't take you, baby. I'd make a real good doll outta you," Dirk said, holding onto Wendy tightly for one moment more before letting her go.
Wendy wanted to say something, but was afraid to open her mouth. Would it be wrong to confess she had enjoyed what had happened, had learned so much about herself? She thought so, and she lowered her eyes, feeling grateful that she was alive.
They were helping Mr. Bernard up. He looked dazed. His broken arm was limp at his side as he leaned heavily against the sobbing Alice.
Yes, they would have a hard time explaining what had happened. Their clothes were beyond wearing. The authorities would find this man half naked, wandering around with two nude teenagers in the middle of the Mojave Desert.
At least, Wendy thought, they were alive to talk about it. And talk about it they would, she guessed as she ambled toward Mr. Bernard and felt an inner glow begin to warm her pussy.