by S. J. Lewis
“Didn’t take ‘er long to go back on ‘er word, did it?” Dub spat. “Ya can’t trust this bitch atall.”
“Not lookin’ to trust ‘er,” the third man grinned evilly at Maia. “Just lookin’ to fuck ‘er. Y’all care to give me a lil’ help?”
Maia kicked and screamed and tried to bite. None of it did any good, and soon she was face-down in the sandy, gritty clearing, Dub pinning her down by her shoulders and the cop pulling her cuffed wrists up and out of the way. She heard more spitting and tensed up, trying to keep her legs together. She expected them to pry her legs apart, but instead the third man started spanking her, hard, to make her submit. Maia shrieked and howled and struggled, but she kept her legs together.
“Use yer belt there, Tommy,” Dub finally suggested. Maia started to protest, and Dub shoved her face into the dirt. When the hard, hard belt first cracked across her vulnerable ass, it felt like it was made of fire, not leather. Even so, she held out for three more searing strokes before she spread her legs wide. She sobbed, but she had no tears left. She didn’t move when Dub and the cop let go of her, and she didn’t move when she felt the weight of the third man, Tommy, pressing down on her. But she did scream when he started to fuck her ass. He felt every bit as huge as Dub, and he fucked her just as hard as the cop, Ricky-boy. She felt like she was being torn in half. Her shrill screams echoed through the wide, empty forest as He laid on top of her, huffing and grunting and plowing away. When he finally stopped, grunting like a hog as he came, all Maia could do was shudder and whimper. She kept still after he got up. She had no strength left, and her body was shaking too violently for her to do anything anyway. Then she felt the cop freeing her wrists from the handcuffs and she sighed wearily. She’d let them do what they wanted to her, and now it looked like they were going to let her go. She would get out of these damned woods if she had to crawl. Somehow she would find her way to the next town, and there tell her tale of woe to any and all who would listen. She would make them pay for what they’d done to her!
“All right, boys, haul ‘er off an’ tie ‘er to that tree. I’m already late.”
“Right, Dub,” Ricky-boy replied. He and Tommy grabbed Maia by her arms and began dragging her across the clearing.
“Wait! Wait!” Maia screamed as she tried to pull free. “I did what I said I’d do!”
The two men just laughed nastily. They put her up against the tree, kneeling, and tied her hands behind her with one of her stockings as she wailed and protested. They tied her cruelly tight. Her fingers started to go numb right away. Then they crossed her ankles and tied them just as tightly. The rough bark of the tree hurt her back, and its roots punished her knees cruelly. As she kept begging, she saw Dub walking around, picking up her discarded clothes. As the other two men left her tied to the tree, Dub came over and tossed her garments onto the trash pile.
“Please,” Maia sobbed pitifully, looking up at him. “Please don’t leave me here!”
“Good-bye, missy,” Dub waved a hand, turned and plodded back to his big, shiny truck. She was screaming her throat raw as they drove away.
***
“She was a nice pretty little piece of ass,” Dub commented as they pitched and rolled along the trail. “Not real educated, but I ‘spect she was too scared to concentrate.”
“How long you plan to leave ‘er there, Dub?” Tommy asked.
“Aw, hell,” Dub shrugged. “I gotta go fishin’ with the judge. I guess soon as we get back to town and I drop y’all off I’d have no way of knowin’ if you two hustle on back there and ‘rescue’ her. Y’all could take her up to the old huntin’ cabin by the lake. How would I know?”
They all chuckled. “How long we gonna keep her there?” Ricky-boy asked.
“‘Til y’get tired of ‘er, I guess. A week, maybe two. Then y’all can drop her off at the bus station in Pittston with a little of ‘er luggage back and just enough money for a ticket out. I don’t think she’ll be too anxious to come back for a visit.”
Ricky-boy laughed. “I don’t think that city dude partner of hers’ll come back neither. You see the look on his face when he thought we were gonna take him out in the woods? He like to crapped his pants.”
Dub grunted and spat out the window. “That boy seen one too many movies.”
Midnight Muse
Lisa sat and stared at her monitor screen for a long, dismal moment. Then she sighed heavily and picked up her coffee mug. The coffee had gone cold. Well, so had she. She felt tired and completely uninspired. Tired she could fix. The lack of inspiration was another matter entirely. It had been going on for over a month now, and her agent was getting cranky. Lisa couldn’t blame her. This latest bodice-ripper was running way behind schedule. Worse yet, what she’d written so far just didn’t seem to be any good. More and more, Lisa felt like she was writing to an old, threadbare template: Yet another beautiful, pampered and privileged daughter of a nobleman/wealthy merchant/other finds herself at the mercy of a handsome highwayman/pirate/dashing rogue/mysterious brooding man/other and…
Lisa shook her head. She might as well face it: There would be no inspiration tonight. She glanced at the clock. It was only a little after ten PM. Why did she feel so sleepy then? Oh, well. Maybe things would improve after a good night’s sleep. It was a frail hope to cling to, but it was all that she had at the moment. She saved what she’d written up to now and switched off her computer. Yawning, she pushed her chair back and stood up, running her fingers through her short brown hair. She yawned again. It had been so easy once. Why was writing so damned difficult for her now? Was she burning out? She guessed it was possible. After all this time, the proud beauties with their lovely heaving bosoms that she wrote about seemed to run together in her mind, until it was impossible to tell Melicent Montgomerie apart from Christina de Beaumont. The male characters were running together as well, becoming vague and two-dimensional, tall dark strangers all. Well, no, not quite all. Svalbard, the mighty Viking chieftain from her second book had flowing golden locks, despite her unfortunate choice for his name. But aside from those flowing golden locks there seemed to be very little to distinguish him from Sir Percy Harringford, the impoverished nobleman who was a dashing highwayman by night.
She turned off the light in her study and remembered she had left her coffee mug sitting by her computer. She decided to leave it for tomorrow. It seemed like too much trouble to go back for it now.
The house was quiet. Darla was away for the weekend at a friend’s house, no doubt jabbering away happily with her teenaged girlfriends. Lisa had hosted one of those pajama parties once. Hearing all those giggly young voices chattering away at once had made her think that there ought to be a designated listener. Rufus was away at the vet’s. He was a good dog, but he really had to stop eating everything he came across, indoors or outdoors. His stomach couldn’t always handle it. As for her ex, Jason, she had no idea where he was, but she had a pretty good idea what he was doing. He had a problem similar to Rufus’: He just had to try to screw every woman he met. At least he kept up on the alimony payments.
Thinking of Jason suddenly made her feel very lonely. She had a social life of sorts, but no sex life at all. Men just didn’t flock to divorced women in their mid-thirties who had kids, no matter how much time, care and effort those women put into staying attractive. She suspected that many of her readers were women just like her who had turned to her books in an effort to get at least a little romance into their lives. Somebody had to be buying those things.
She went down the hallway towards the master bedroom. She passed by the small bedroom she’d converted to an exercise room. In the dimness, the various machines in there looked like implements of medieval torture. Some days, they felt like that. She’d been slacking off on her exercise routines lately, along with everything else. If men were going to ignore her anyway, what was the point?
She passed Darla’s bedroom. The door was shut, which was probably just as well. Darla’s domain was always a ri
ot of pinks and whites populated by innumerable cutesy stuffed animals and it always looked like a small tornado had just passed through.
Her bedroom was at the end of the upstairs hallway, right by the stairwell. Did it still count as a master bedroom even if the house had no master, only a mistress? She snapped on the light. Her bedroom wasn’t looking much better than Darla’s these days. She headed into the bathroom, shedding her t-shirt and sweatpants as she went. At home, she could dress for comfort, and it seemed to her that she’d been dressing for comfort far too often lately. Could she still fit into that daring little cocktail dress, the one with the short, flirty skirt and the plunging neckline? Well, maybe she could, but again, what was the point? It wasn’t as if she was going to have an opportunity to wear it any time in the foreseeable future.
She let the shower beat down on her face as she pulled her hair back with her hands. She’d gotten it cut short not too long ago in an effort to give herself a younger look. Now, all she could say for the cut was that it didn’t take as long to dry her hair now. She tilted her head back out of the spray and let the water cascade onto her body. The stream was just hard enough to sting her nipples a little. She felt the warm water coursing down her torso and along her legs, tickling and caressing, and felt lonely all over again. Well, maybe lonely wasn’t exactly the right word. She soaped up and rinsed off. It was better if her shower was just a shower tonight. She wanted sleep more than she wanted to play with the adjustable removable showerhead tonight.
She dressed for comfort in bed too: Another loose-fitting t-shirt and plain white cotton panties. She had half a dozen cute little teddies that she could still squeeze into stored away in a dresser drawer, but there was no point in wearing them. She settled into her big four-poster bed and waited for sleep.
***
There was a big hand clamped over her mouth and a heavy weight on top of her, pinning her down. Lisa went from sound asleep to wide-awake in one terrifying instant. It was dark in her room, too dark to see anything more than vague shapes.
“Don’t scream,” a deep male voice ordered in a growling whisper. The hand came away from her mouth. Before Lisa could do anything more than inhale, her attacker stuffed a wad of cloth into her mouth. She struggled, pulling one arm free, and tried to rake his face with her nails. He moved more quickly than she did, grabbing her wrist and pinning her arm down. He slapped her with his free hand, nowhere near as hard as she guessed he could. It was a warning. She lay still, even though her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her chest.
“None of that, either,” he warned. “You just do what I tell you to. Understand?”
Lisa whimpered through the gag. It tasted like one of the sheets she used in her dryer smelled.
“Understand?” He repeated in a more menacing tone. Shivering, Lisa nodded and made a sound of assent.
“Good girl,” he said, patting her cheek gently. He took his weight off of her, but he kept his grip on her wrist. He flipped the covers away with such force that they sailed over the foot of the bed and landed on the floor.
“Roll over,” he ordered. Lisa squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered.
“Do it!” he snapped.
She was shaking so violently now that she could barely control her movements. It didn’t help that he wouldn’t let go of her wrist, but she managed, awkwardly. It left her face half buried in her pillow. He roughly yanked the pillow away and tossed it onto the floor. Then he was straddling her hips, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. He pulled both of her arms behind her. She whimpered, but she didn’t try to fight him. He was too big, and too strong. A moment later, she felt him tying her wrists together. It didn’t feel like he was using rope, but he tied her very securely. When he was done, he got off of her.
“Roll over,” he ordered.
Lisa couldn’t move. All she seemed to be able to do was lie there, trembling. His palm came down on her ass with an ear-splitting crack! She jerked convulsively. The gag stifled her scream.
“I said roll over!” he barked.
Trembling and whimpering, Lisa obeyed, keeping her knees pressed together. Her attacker switched on the light on the nightstand, making her blink. Once her eyes had adjusted, she got her first good look at the intruder. He was big: Not fat, but tall and muscular. He was also dressed all in black: Black boots, black jeans and a black hoodie over a black t-shirt. He even wore a black ski mask that hid everything but his eyes, which were pale blue, and intense.
“Let’s have a look at you,” he said as he straddled her hips again. He took hold of the neck of her t-shirt with both hands and yanked. The cotton material tore apart as if it had been made of tissue paper, baring Lisa from her neck to her navel. He shifted his grip and yanked again, pulling the torn shirt wide open.
Lisa moaned weakly. She could feel those pale blue eyes roaming over her body for a long, terrible moment, and then she felt his hands at her breasts, caressing, squeezing, fondling possessively. If she had been writing about such a scene, she would have described him as ‘plundering her treasures’, but that phrase seemed pale and watery compared to her actual experience right here and now. This was a big, strong male enjoying and exploring his possession of a helpless woman’s naked body. She moaned again as he lightly pinched her nipple. Then he slid his ski mask up partway and bent over to take her other nipple in his mouth. Lisa complained loudly, writhing under him as she tried to break the contact. He ignored her struggles, licking and sucking her nipple into full erection. Then he switched his mouth to her other nipple. Lisa renewed her struggles, but they were just as futile as before and she gave up before he was done what he was doing. What bothered her most about it was that his mouth on her breast felt so good. No man had touched her like that for years, and her body was responding in spite of her fear, confusing her terribly. She began squirming again, but there wasn’t a whole lot of struggling going into her movements. When her attacker straightened up, grinning down at her, Lisa was breathing loudly and raggedly through her nose, her own bosom heaving, partly for air and partly for another reason entirely.
“Very nice,” her attacker said as he caressed her cheek affectionately. Lisa lay as still as she could. Even if she could spit the gag out, the house was too well insulated and too far away from the next nearest house for any of her neighbors to hear her. The intruder began caressing her body, not gently, but not too roughly either.
“You keep yourself in real good shape,” he commented. “I like the way those nipples stick out, too.”
Lisa could feel herself blushing furiously. Her attacker got off of her again and flipped her over onto her belly. He pushed a knee between her legs. Lisa erupted into a wild and desperate fight. It was doomed to failure, and she knew it, but she felt like she had to do something, if only to show her body that she was still in charge. He pinned her down by putting his hand on her back and leaning on it. Short of breath again, Lisa had just about decided to give it up when he brought his other hand down across her ass with another loud crack. It hurt! She subsided completely, whimpering through the gag. When he shoved his other knee between her legs she didn’t try to fight him at all. She felt him gripping the waistband of her panties, and then there was a ripping sound as he tore them away. Then his hand was at her pussy, fingering her with surprising gentleness. She tried not to move. She just closed her eyes and moaned helplessly. It was going to happen, no matter what she did, and for a moment she had some idea how the heroines in her books must have felt.
He knew what he was doing, and Lisa’s body, untouched for so long, was responding to his handling. She pressed her face into the mattress and moaned again. All she could do now was submit. She let him push her legs farther apart with his knees as he kept fingering her, making her wetter and wetter.
“Just relax,” he said to her soothingly. “I’m drivin’.” His hands lifted her hips up and held her. It was clear that he intended to take her from behind, in an act of dominance. Bound and gagged, Lisa resigned
herself to submitting. Her traitor body was all too eager to do that anyway, so she might as well go along for the ride, since she had no other choice.
His cock slid into her easily. Lisa arched her back and squealed: He felt huge! She dug her knees into the mattress as he thrust himself all the way in. Her body was trembling again, but not from fear. For a moment, Lisa allowed herself to wallow in the wonderful sensations reverberating from her pussy. Then his grip on her tightened and he began to fuck her, slowly at first, but powerfully. Lisa heard soft, muffled moaning and it took her a moment to realize that it was coming from her. For a brief moment, she thought about trying to fight him off, but the thought melted as rapidly as an ice cube in a hot oven because what he was doing to her felt so impossibly good. She let herself moan again, soft and low. It might be degrading to be used in this way, but it had been so very long for her that she didn’t give a damn. He started thrusting faster, and she moaned again, louder, as her body shuddered, surrendering completely.
Now Lisa let herself go, overwhelmed by all the carnal sensations flooding through her: The meaty bump as he slammed his body against her upturned ass, the quivering of her breasts at the contact, the feel of the rumpled bedsheet against the side of her face, the gag stuffing her mouth, his big, hard, rough hands holding her in place, and above all the wonderful, wonderful friction of his big, hard cock sliding powerfully in and out, in and out, IN and OUT of her swollen, achingly sensitive pussy. He was still pumping away at her when she shuddered violently in orgasm, squalling through her nose at the razor-sharp intensity. He never altered his rhythm, and for a moment it all seemed unendurable until Lisa felt a second spasm building up in her loins. She moaned, and she sounded like a cat in heat to her own ears. She found herself pressing her ass up against him, hungry as she was for more, more, more!
When she came again, it seemed to blot out the world. Drowning in her own throes of passion, she heard her attacker groaning as he finally came, but the sound seemed to come to her from far, far away.