Chapter 4
"Now look George, this may be a lot of fun, but we gotta make some money out of it too." His mother spoke with the serious deliberation of a board chairman. This guy has lots of dough, we gotta get some. We gotta send him a letter telling him to pay if he wants to get his daughter back."
"Sure, Ma," George replied, "that's the way we planned it, ain't it?"
It was early morning. The others still slept off the effects of the previous night's orgy. Jane was tied to the couch, still naked. She continued to sleep, oblivious to the conversation at the table.
Together, they worked out the wording of the note. George pushed the pencil laboriously, getting the words down in a childish print. He wasn't too sure of the spelling, but that didn't concern him. Finished, he picked up the paper, and read the note aloud.
DEAR MR. LOWEL. WE HAVE YOUR GIRL JANE. SHE IS STILL HELTHY. IF YOU WANT HER TO STAY LIKE THAT GET FIFTY THOUSAND BUCKS CASH AND BE REDDY FOR US TO COLECT IT. don't GO TO THE COPS OR ELSE. IF YOU CALL COPS WE WONT JUST KILL HER WE WILL HAVE LOTS OF FUN WITH HER FIRST AND SEND YOU THE PEECES.
THE KIDNAPERS
"That's a real good note, Georgie," the woman's voice showed a motherly pride. "Now we gotta get it to him fast."
"I'll go to town and mail it right now." George felt the excitement of the situation as he spoke. He felt they had graduated to the big time. In the past, they had limited their activities to simple things like break and enter and rolling drunks.
"Mail ain't fast enough," the old woman's words brought him down off his cloud of self-satisfaction.
"Jeez, Ma, what do you want me to do? Walk up to the door and hand him the letter?"
"Don't back talk me, boy. That house is set way back from the road and there's lots of trees in front of it. You just drive up to the mail box by the road and stick the note in it then you drive off."
"Yeah, but what if there's somebody around?"
"When you get close to the place, you drive slow and take a damn good look. If there's somebody around, you just drive right by. If there ain't, you drop the note and then take off."
George wasn't too keen on his mother's idea, but he saw it would do no good to argue with her. Reluctantly, he agreed to do it her way. He pulled on his jacket, stuffed the note into the pocket and left the house.
Before getting into the car, he thought for a moment of how it would feel to drive the big car instead. That, he told himself, would be downright stupid. He kicked the old car to life and headed down the rutted driveway. His assignment still frightened him, if it came to a showdown, he would choose cops rather than Ma.
The door, closing behind George, woke Jane. She attempted to sit up, but fell back as her bound hands jerked her back to the pillow. Frustrated, she looked at the old woman.
"Come on, Ma," she asked sleepily, "how about untying the ropes. I'm not exactly dressed for traveling."
The old woman laughed as she walked to the couch. "Why Lady Jane, I declare you look good enough to eat for breakfast." Her rough hands fondled Jane's smooth, firm breasts. She sat on the edge of the couch looking greedily at the naked body. Her hands stroked down over slightly rising tummy, moved to the satin smooth thighs.
Jane felt the familiar urges begin to rise within her, she fought them back.
"Come on, Ma," she protested, "fun's fun, but how about some coffee first?"
Ma laughed again. "Well now, you sound like maybe you're goin' to be real friendly. I guess we could use some coffee first." She untied the ropes. Jane rubbed her wrists as she swung her legs over the side of the couch.
As the old woman went to the stove to pour two cups of coffee, Jane found her panties and slipped them on. Reaching for her bra, she changed her mind. What the hell, she thought. She threw it back on the couch and walked to the table.
Ma's happy mood continued as she looked at Jane, the white nylon panties clinging to the contours of her firm bottom. "Shucks, Lady Jane, that was an awful waste of time."
"What was?"
"Putting on them pants. I ain't goin' to leave them on long enough to make it worth it. After this coffee, I'm goin' to take them down and have me some real nice young breakfast." She ran her hand over the rear surface of the nylon as she pushed her chair to the table.
Jane was annoyed that this rough looking old woman could arouse her this way, but she was powerless to resist. She saw the old woman drinking her coffee hurriedly and decided that if she wanted to finish hers, she too should hurry it. Just as she raised the cup again, Don shuffled out of the bedroom.
Stark naked, he made it very obvious that he was ready to greet the new day sexually.
"Just look at that boy," Ma Cackled, "ain't he just the best hung man you ever saw?"
Looking at him, seeing the strength of his manhood, primitive though it was. She remembered how he had looked attacking Grace with brute force. Her memory flashed her a picture of Grace, bent under Ma's arm, her chubby buttocks red from the spanking, twisting and fighting under the animal approach of the big man. Her pulses were really hammering now.
"Yes, Ma, he sure is one hell of a big man."
Don smiled, glowing under the words of praise. Employing muscular control, he caused his point of pride to wave to both women. "Ain't he just the darnest one?" Ma crowed. "He's a real card, that boy. Just look at that."
"Yeah," the voice came from the bedroom door where Grace stood wearing just her panties, "ain't it too bad his brain ain't as big."
"Now Grace," Ma shrilled, "you cut that out or I'll take the stick to you."
"Yeah, Ma," Don was excited, "spank 'er again. Make 'er big bum all nice and red, Ma."
"Not right now, Donnie boy, I got me some work to do. Some real nice work." As she spoke, she sat on the edge of the couch and drew Jane toward her, one hand pressing with surprising gentleness against the back of her thigh.
Jane showed no sign of resistance. She wasn't as ready for it now as she had been earlier, but she knew it was pointless to resist. The alternative would have been a trip across the woman's lap punctuated by the slapping sound of the hard hand against the tender mounds of her bottom. She let herself be drawn to the woman, feeling the guiding hand move from the thigh, up over the nylon sheathed buttocks. As she drew closer, she felt two hands stroking the smooth surface. She felt her buttocks being caressed, felt fingers probing without harshness, without roughness. She began to fall into the mood of the moment.
Her bottom and thighs began to sway in an easy, rhythmic motion. She couldn't have stopped it if she hard tried. She didn't try. When she felt Don approaching her, hard and urgent, she felt the woman push him away.
"Just wait and watch a little while, Donny boy," the woman rebuffed him pleasantly. "Mebbe you can have some too, after a while."
Whimpering his frustration, he backed off but stood watching, wanting to touch. She felt his hand move quickly across her thighs as he moved obediently away.
But Ma was becoming anxious now. "I told you it was a waste of time putting them pants on, honey." Her hands moved inside them, sliding them down her thighs. "Oh what a lovely little hinie you got baby." Her voice was quiet, but made husky with her rapidly exploding passion.
Jane felt the nylon fall to her feet. She raised one leg after the other and stepped out of them. Hearing a scurrying sound behind her, she turned to see Don retrieving the warm nylon garment. She saw him step into them and draw them up urgently over his firm, squirming body. His obvious arousal presented a ludicrous sight as the transparent panties failed to hide his condition. His hands rubbed the smooth surface, his eyes rolled excitedly. He had found a temporary substitute for the young woman he coveted. The panties were warm and smooth, just like her, he thought. His hand continued to stroke, to caress.
Naked now, Jane felt herself being pulled down to the couch. She fell across the woman's lap and felt herself pushed gently into a lying position. Hands probed her firm, silken thighs, moved them gently apart. She offered complete cooperation, opened them wide to make room for the hungry invader of her secret regions.
She felt the weather tanned cheeks make contact with the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, felt hands clutch the white globes of her buttocks, felt her body raised to meet the charge, raised her body herself to meet the invasion.
There was a nerve tearing moment when the first contact was made, then an easy building of passion as the face pressed, kissed, sought. She felt the darting tongue and again was surprised at the smooth efficiency of the course looking woman.
She opened her eyes in time to see Grace breathing unevenly as she stripped off her panties and sat on the edge of the couch. Jane watched as she beckoned to Don who hurried to her. Her legs were parted wide, her hands pushed the man into a kneeling position before her. Satisfied with his position and convinced that he knew what she wanted, Grace fell back on the couch, her thighs spread wide, her full hips rising from the couch, the seat of her hunger opened in invitation to the unsure looking man in the nylon panties. Just before Jane closed her eyes again, she saw that Don had made contact with Grace. She heard the hungry, greedy sounds, heard Grace's insistent moaning, urging.
But she had to close her eyes then, the roller coaster of passion was climbing now. She felt herself float through the soft, fluffy clouds, felt the climb continue, clenched her fists as she soared to the peak which she knew could not be sustained.
And it was not sustained. A new fire built between her thighs where an insistent outside force persisted, Jane felt it grow to intolerable proportions, felt the fires explode into her belly and legs, felt herself rise from the couch, seem to hang suspended in mid air, then fall back.
But still, the older woman was not content. Still, her hands fondled, stroked, cupped. Jane's state of absolute lassitude melted as the greedy, seeking hands continued to find smooth mounds and slopes and hollows. She felt a gradual reawakening of desire. At the foot of the couch, she saw Don still glued to the rocking, writhing body of Grace.
Still watching, still feeling the hands on her, Jane saw Grace roll away from the kneeling figure before her, felt the weight as the woman rolled onto her nude form. For just a moment, Jane tensed as new hands parted her still tingling thighs, then she relaxed into submission, into surrender.
While Grace barely moved below, the older woman was whispering in her ear. "You'll be good to Don now, won't you?"
"I don't know," Jane gasped. "I don't know. I'm ... I'm still afraid of him."
"Let him do it, honey. Make him feel real good." The rough hands were less rough as they massaged the pink tipped globes of milky white breasts.
Jane felt herself rising again to the heights of passion. Felt the face press hungrily against her, felt the explosion again and once more fell back on the couch.
She felt Grace begin to move away from her, but fires still raged within. Jane knew at that moment that the hunger within her heaving belly was greater than her revulsion for the creature who stood beside the couch fondling the nylon panties he still wore.
The old woman stood beside him and guided him eagerly toward the bed where Jane lay naked, sprawled, waiting. As he reached the edge of the couch, he hunched suddenly, his shoulders jerked convulsively, his hands clutched tightly at the front of the panties.
"I can't now, Ma," the words were a cry of pain as they burst from his lips. "I can't."
Still hunched, he ran from the room holding the front of the panties and crying a cry of bitterness and frustration. Jane didn't really care that much now, she was tired, very tired. She wanted to go back to sleep.
At that very moment, George Travers was having his problems too, but he was not tired. He had driven slowly past the Lowell place and found it quiet. Making a turn a quarter mile beyond the house, he prepared to return for the note drop.
It was at that moment that the conflict really hit him. It would be easy enough to make the drop and move away unseen, but that wasn't what was bothering him right now.
Although something less than a thinker, George was painfully figuring out the chain of events that would follow delivery of the note. When Mr. Lowell received that note, it would be the beginning of the end of the kidnapping.
Even if he didn't call the police in, even if he met their demands quietly and without fuss, it would still be a very bad thing. Once they got the money, they would have to take the next logical step. The next step, in this case, involved the disposition of their hostage. They couldn't keep her there forever, and yet, they couldn't just let her go either. She could easily find their house, she could identify every one of them to the police. The minute they released her, they would be turning themselves right over to the law on a kidnapping charge.
No, she couldn't be released. There was only one thing to do and he knew Ma would insist on it. Jane Lowell would have to die and be buried somewhere on the old farm.
He could imagine the execution scene. It would he a dark night, he and Ma would take the beautiful girl out to the barn. She would probably be naked and very scared. She would sense what was going to happen to her. She would plead and beg, she would cry and make a big fuss, but Ma would insist on going through with it.
If he became too nervous himself, Ma would take the hunting rifle from him and do the job herself. He would hear the loud explosion of the shot in the quiet confinement of the barn; he would see the ugly effect of the bullet in that lovely white skin; he would watch as the beautiful, warm body crumpled to the dirty floor dead. He would have to dig a deep hole under the barn, carry the cold, lifeless body and drop it in. He could almost see the first few shovels of dirt as they fell on the white body at the bottom of the hole.
The alternative, as he saw it, was not to deliver the note. The Lowells would be worried about their missing daughter, but they might think she had run away or had an accident somewhere, or something. The police might even be called in to look for her, but it wouldn't be the same as if they knew she had been kidnapped, there wouldn't be the same relentless combing of the countryside. In time, they would give up, and when they did, Jane would still be a permanent boarder in the Travers household.
He pictured again the naked body of the young woman, thought of the warm, silkiness of her body, saw her engaged in that wild, nude game with Grace, saw himself replacing Grace and fitting his body to her nude form, he felt the soft swells and curves of her under his own naked body.
It wouldn't take long to make her accept Don from time to time and when she did that, Ma would agree to keep her as a playmate for the brother.
The thought of Ma's anger replaced the nude form of Jane Lowell in his mind then. It was a frightening thought. How could he face the wrath of the old woman?
His resolve began to fade. He started the car and began the return trip past the Lowell house. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he felt the note. The big stone gates of the Lowell mansion were just ahead. He began to slow the car.
He had cut his speed to about ten miles an hour when he spotted the man walking toward the gate. There was one brief moment of panic, then a sensation of great relief as he stepped on the gas and pulled away from the gates. By the time he reached the turnoff, the needle was pointing just over sixty.
He was heading back for the farm now. He hoped Jane would be wearing her bra and panties, he would like to take them off for her, very slowly. He would kiss her all over and linger in that special, warm place as Grace had done yesterday. She would like that and later, when he was tired of kissing, she would be really ready to take him. He could go real slow, make her holler with wild enjoyment.
After that, he would try to reason with Ma. He would try to convince her that they should forget about the ransom and just keep Jane as a plaything-a beautifully formed, warm, loving little plaything. He didn't know if he could convince the old woman, but he was sure going to try.
H.J. was determined to find some way of keeping Jane Lowell at the farm and alive on the couch, not dead under the floor of the barn.