Chapter 6

Thundering into the campsite on his motorcycle, Mickey Blackum killed the engine and rocked the vehicle onto its stand. He sat still in the saddle and stared around the circle of quiet faces. The three men sat, hunkered down on their heels, holding paper plates full of savory stew, from which they had been eating. Peeper Martin looked back at him, a half-insolent smile curling his lips. It was a knowing smile... and he would bide his time until the knowledge would work for him. Bill Wunder, the Wunder Boy smiled, broadly, his smooth, shiny face showing pinkly in the failing light. His hair was long, so blonde it was almost white, and he looked out through pale, blue eyes. He was boyish... almost feminine in appearance. It was a deceptive look. He was hard... tough... and virile.

Pluckily, Buck Sloan spoke up, "We didn't know when you'd show Mickey... so we started eating... already!"

Terry was seated at the concrete camp table. She was already moving toward the stew pot on the fire to serve up a plate of stew for Mickey. They all knew that he was in a cold fury. Almost anything said or done, now, was liable to end in violence.

Getting off of his motorcycle, Mickey stalked toward the fire, only grunting an acknowledgement of Buck's explanation. Silently, he accepted the plate of food from Terry and sat down, opposite her, his back to the others. He began to wolf down the stew.

After a few bites he said, "Peeper... how come you split off from the bunch... and came back to the village?"

Martin hadn't expected it. He was chewing a piece of meat, and his answer was low in coming. He shifted, uneasily, trying to swallow.

"God damn it... Peeper, I asked you a question?" Blackum grated, steel in his voice.

The other man gulped and sputtered, "I just wanted to see what was keeping you... Thought maybe you got busted or something!"

"That's a lie! I saw you there! You were spying on me!" Mickey roared, whirling, quickly, and hurling the full plate of stew at Peeper Martin. It hit him square in the chest, spattering messily over his leather jacket.

"Christ!" Martin yelled, as he lost his balance and fell backward. He clawed at his boot top for the razor-sharp can- opener he carried there.

Mickey reached him before he could rise, a well-aimed kick of his steel-shod boot sending the weapon spinning out of Peeper's hand. His own switchblade was out, the long blade snicking out, dangerously. He menaced the fallen man, who was now holding his wrist and moaning in pain.

"Now... start laying it on me... you bastardly son-of-a- bitch!" he snarled.

"I-I wanted to find out... why you... w-wanted to stay in the village?"

"... And did you... ?"

"Y-Yes... but I-I didn't mean... any... any harm... !"

"You spill your guts to anybody?" Mickey spat out.

"No! No! I swear... !"

"Make sure you don't!... Because if you do... I'll hang you to a tree by your balls! Understand?"

"Yes... !"

"... And do you know who leads this group... ?"

"You..."

"Don't forget it... Peeper! Just don't forget it... even for a minute!" he threatened, then relaxed, as he went on, "I ought to carve you up a little... but I'm not going to... yet! Your punishment's going to be clean-up... washing pots... doing laundry... and all that crap... understand?"

"That's mama's work... God damn it!"

"... And, that's what you do!"

Martin was cowed. "Okay... Okay... you win!"

The black-bearded leader stepped back and folded his switchblade knife. There was an audible relaxation of tension among the others, who had watched, fearfully, not knowing how far Mickey would go... how violent he might become.

Terry had no idea of what had caused the trouble between the two men. She knew better than to ask. If Mickey wanted her to know... he would tell her; otherwise, there was nothing for her to do except keep her mouth shut. She moved toward the fire to ladle up another plate of stew for Mickey.

As the now undisputed leader regained his seat, leaving Peeper Martin groveling on the ground, in the mess of the stew Mickey had flung at him, he barked out, "Terry... let Peeper do that!"

Seething in his humiliation, Martin did the demeaning, servile task, spooning up a paper plate full of the food and placing it on the table before Mickey Blackum.

Then, as he ate, he told them, "We've got a little project! There's that trailer up the way... being pulled by a Mercury station wagon. We're going to watch them... and the first chance we get... we're all going to get that black-haired bitch... and..."

"Gang bang her?!" Peeper finished.

"Yeah... I might even let you in on it... if I don't slice off your cock and feed it to you... first!"

"Mickey! That's rape... maybe even kidnapping! You don't want to get busted for something like that!" It was Terry who burst in, emotionally.

"Who asked you?" Mickey grated, reaching across the table to slap her soundly. "You just stay out of this and keep your mouth shut. If you want to you can do what you want with the guy... after he's tied up... or maybe you'd like to make it with the broad?"

Terry's hand went to her face. It smarted from his slap. She didn't like his plan... but if she were to ride with Mickey... keep on being his mama... there was nothing she could do to stop him from carrying out his evil intentions.

"I'm sorry, Mickey..." she murmured.

"... And... just a reminder, Terry... that's the last time you try to interfere... understand?"

"Yes... Mickey..." God! That poor woman... whoever she is... They'll be like animals! At least... when all four of them make it with me... they don't mark me up... but a gang-bang like that... almost anything could happen... !

Feeling refreshed after her long, relaxing shower, Lois Brewster returned to the camper to discover the note from Stan telling her he had gone down to the village. It didn't disturb her, particularly, but she did wonder, idly, what it was that had made him decide to go.

She went about her preparations for their evening out, together, putting on clean, dainty underthings, fixing her blonde hair, brushing it and fixing it, lightly, with a hair spray, then she applied make-up sparingly and tastefully to enhance her own natural beauty, only. She would wear that new mini sheath she had bought a month ago, she decided. It's lucky I packed it and brought it along... just in case we might go out for an evening of fun But, it was the fun... afterward, she was thinking about... hoping she'd be able to coax her husband, Stan, out of his shell...

Deftly, she slipped into her dress and looked at herself, critically, in the long, narrow mirror.

Yes! Everything was perfect. She was ready far in advance but perhaps, they could go out a little early for a couple of cocktails before dinner... live it up a little... relax. Stan does get to feeling... amorous when he gets just enough to drink! If I can get just enough in him... without his getting drunk...

The heavy knock at the door of the camper startled her. She had heard the crunch of a car's tires, but had ignored it, thinking perhaps it was one of the Park Rangers on an inspection tour... Or, maybe somebody gave Stan a lift from the village.

Opening the door a crack, she looked out to see Harry Williams standing there big and blocky. She knew, instantly, that he was angry. He scowled up at her, grimly.

"May I come in, Mrs. Brewster?" he asked, politely, enough. "I've got to talk to you!"

"Stan isn't here..." she said, somewhat reluctant to let him in... alone.

"I know that!" he spat. "That's what I'm here to talk to you about!"

"He's just down in the village... he should be back, pretty soon..." Lois offered.

"No! He's not in the village! I just saw him... up by the falls! Now, can I come in... because you and I've got to talk... about what he's doing... and it's got to be private. I don't think you'd want anybody else to hear... what I'm going to tell you!"

Something in his words, the look on his face and the mysterious manner of his speaking alarmed her, and against her better judgment. Lois opened the door to allow Harry Williams' huge figure to lumber into the small confines of the camper.

"Wh-What's Stan doing... that's so... so mysterious... or out of the ordinary... ?" she asked, adding, "Stan doesn't ever do anything wrong... or against the law..."

The big, barrel-chested man closed the door behind him, with a bang. Turning on her, he spat, "What makes me so damned mad... is that they're both pulling the wool over our eyes... or they thought they were... until I caught them... dead to rights!"

Lois' eyes widened in further mystification. "What on earth are you talking about... and who are they... ?"

"Your husband... and my wife that's who!" Harry gritted. "They're up in the canyon... above here... tearing off a piece of ass... like a couple of farm kids... out behind the barn!"

She gasped, not wanting to believe. "You m-mean... Stan... and Vivian... are... are... ?" Unable to finish, she collapsed onto the bench of the breakfast nook, her face in her hands. "I-I can't believe it!"

"I saw them... with my own eyes!" he held up the binocular case. "They were down in that stream... fucking like a couple of rutting animals!"

"N-No! No! Stan w-wouldn't... ?! It's not possible!"

"Well... I guess you don't know your husband... just like I don't know my wife... but it's a fact... and I want you to see for yourself!"

"I-I... couldn't watch... him!" she moaned, knowing that her heart would break... if she actually had to watch her husband make love to another woman.

"That's beside the point!" Harry Williams was grim. "... But something's got to be done about them! They can't go around... behind our backs... fucking each other... without somebody paying the piper!"

"Oh, G-God!" Her mind visualized separation... divorce... lawyers asking probing questions, the judge sitting implacably... finally giving his decision... property divided... and she was glad of only one thing, as her mind raced, whiningly: W-We... don't have a-any children... yet... Thank God... !

"So... come with me God damn it! You're going to see for yourself exactly what I saw and we can't waste any time getting there because they might be finished... the way they were going at it!" Harry growled.

Lois, in her dazed state of mind, allowed Harry Williams to put her in his car. She knew it was something she didn't really want to do. Nothing could be gained... but there was that inkling of doubt... that necessity to see for herself... not that she disbelieved Harry--the man seemed to be so sincere, concerned... agitated at his wife's behavior--; but if she did see it... it would dispel her indecision. She would be in a better position to make a judgment... like the legendary Missourian who had to be shown... first.

Rapidly, Harry Williams drove up the road to the spot where he had found his car parked earlier. He pulled the car off the road, helped Lois out, then holding her hand, he struck off through the brush, to the left of the road, above the stream bed. Lois shrank back, complaining, "The underbrush'll ruin my clothes!"

"Hell... that's not important... compared to what else is being ruined... by them!" He pulled her roughly along, behind him. "It's only a little ways... anyway!"

True to his word, after they had gone less than fifty yards through the underbrush, they came to the tree-line on the bank, above the stream. Harry used his binoculars to scan the area. Stan and Lois were below on the sand a little further downstream than he had thought they would be. It was a perfect scene!

"Here!" he grunted, handing Lois the high-powered glasses. "Just step up on this log... and take a look... right down there... to the left!" He pointed out the spot.

Her trembling hands accepted the binoculars, and she trained them on the prone figures, below. She couldn't control her involuntary gasp. It was Stan... and Vivian Williams lay on her back, legs splayed, obscenely, as she cradled Lois' husband between them, his hips rising and falling, rhythmically, driving his hardened penis deep into her vaginal passage.

Lewdly, smiling to himself, Harry watched as the expressions on her face changed from disbelief to acceptance of the fact... followed by helpless anger... and despair.

"Believe it, now?" he chortled. "Those glasses put you right down there... to where you can actually see that big cock of your husband's going right up Vivian's fucking cunt... don't they?"

Lois was annoyed by his language, but she held her tongue from comment, answering, shakily, "Y-Yes... I can see... everything... real clear!"

"Take a good, long look... Lois! You'll want to remember exactly what you're seeing... !"

"I-I've seen... enough!" she mumbled, handing the glasses back to Harry Williams. She stepped down off the log and sat down on it numbly. I'll remember it! I'll remember this... for the rest of my life!... But, I can't believe it... or understand it! Why would Stan... want to make love... No! Why would he want to... fuck... another woman... like that? Fuck's the right word... because... he's doing it like an animal... out here in the wilderness... just the way Harry described it.

The thing she couldn't really understand was why Stan had been avoiding making love to her... but was doing it with such obvious relish with Vivian Williams. Why? Oh, Why? Tears glistened in her deep, china-blue eyes. There was an aching, empty hollowness in her... where her loving heart used to be. It wasn't true, she decided, that people's hearts were broken they were just crushed and strangled, inside until there was nothing left... but a great, empty void of nothingness.

Suddenly, she leaped to her feet and ran, blindly, through the underbrush, the way they had come. The branches caught at her clothing, ripping her dress, snagging her stockings, as well as tearing, cruelly, at her flesh, lashing her legs and arms, searing her body with deep scratches.

"What the hell!" Harry plunged after her and caught her within ten yards. He held her struggling body close in his arms. "Take it easy... damn it! You'll hurt yourself!"

His big hands stroked her body, caressingly, and he crooned to her, "It's not worth it... to go tearing through the brush that way. It won't solve anything! We'll go have a drink together... and do some thinking about what we want to do... next!"

She sobbed against his shoulder, inconsolably, for a few moments, as he continued to knead and massage the lush contours of her beautifully put together body, barely able to control his lust for her. Damn! I'd like to lay her down and screw her... right here... but this isn't the right place... or the right time, yet!

Finally, the first storm of her emotional upheaval was past. She dried her eyes against his shirt and said, "Please... take m- me... back, now... !"

Still dazed... and definitely not thinking straight, yet, Lois followed the big man back to his car and got into it. He drove straight back to his trailer, leading her, unresistingly, inside and fixing a strong, double bourbon and water for her. She gulped a quarter of it down, quickly. It calmed her. All of her emotion had been expended, for the moment, leaving a smoldering anger.

"Damn him!" she breathed, finally, choosing the only word that expressed her feelings exactly. "... And damn her... for leading him into it!" She was remembering: This morning... Vivian was paying an awful lot of attention... t-to Stan rubbing up against him... posing for him and doing all the things a woman would do to hook a man!... And... he finally fell for it! She slugged down another big gulp of the whiskey.

"I don't know... about you!" Harry said,... But I feel they've played a miserable trick on us... and it'd serve them right... if we gave them tit for tat!"

"What do you mean by that?" Lois was wary. She had been feeling ill at ease... ever since Harry had held her close. She had felt the warmth of his loins against hers and the throbbing of a growing bulge in his pants. My God! He was getting an... erection!... And, the way his hands were roaming around... means h-he wants... m-me... wants to... d-do the same thing! She knew the answer... already!

Harry lounged, easily, took a healthy swallow of his drink and smiled, lewdly, at her, "Well... my wife... and your husband are out there fucking hell out of each other... and I'd like to pay them off... an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth... and a fuck for a fuck! That'd make us even!"

"That's a... cr-crazy idea!" she flared, full of indignation at his suggestion. "I'd never do that!"

"No... but Stan's doing it! What's fair for the gander... is fair for the goose... isn't it?"

It was preposterous... but suddenly, Lois knew that watching Stan and Harry Williams' wife, Vivian, there in the stream bed had worked on her, insidiously. The glowing warmth in her loins warned her of mounting sexual arousal. She was more sure of it, when she realized that there was a copious amount of exuded moisture... down there... between the petals of her vaginal opening. Somehow, her concentrated thinking about trying to lure her husband to bed... then seeing him, through the binoculars fucking Harry's wife, which caused her so much pain and anger, subtly, almost insidiously, to produce a sexual need in her... a need that was increasing with every passing moment. Desperately, she tried to deny it. No! I won't! I won't give in... to myself... or him! It's wrong... even if Stan is cheating on me!

Firmly, she set her glass down, rose and said, "But that's not for me! I'm still married to S-Stan... and as long as I am... I'll never do that!"

Harry Williams was on his feet, instantly; he was furious, his green eyes blazed, as he ground out, "You stupid, little bitch! I'm offering you a way of getting even... but whether you like it or not... I'm going to take out mine with you! No son- of-a-bitch can take what's mine... and not have to pay for it! Remember... that's my wife... lying out there, under your husband... while he fucks her silly!"

Lois was genuinely frightened. Her face drained of color, and she turned to stumble toward the door of the trailer, a strangled, "No-No! Oh, God, no!" coming from deep in her being.

Suddenly, swiftly, Harry took her into his brawny arms, capturing her mouth with his own, his lips engulfing hers, completely and his moist, hot tongue snaked out to lash between her lips and teeth to kiss her deeply.

She resisted, attempting to turn her head aside and setting her jaw, but he brought his hand up to her face, his strong fingers pressing, cruelly, into her jaw muscles to force her mouth open. His tongue thrust in, hungrily, to probe and taste.

Disgust and revulsion rose in her, now, at the vile, intimately personal contact, and she struggled to escape from his encircling arms. It was futile. He was too big... too strong. He held her close, his hot hands moving, restlessly over the smooth female curves of her body, kneading and massaging the full- mounded protuberances of her buttocks, his great strength forcing her loins tight up against his, where the throbbing bulge of his erect penis pressed hard into her soft flesh. There could be no doubt about what he wanted... !

Pulling her face away from his voracious lips, finally, with tremendous effort and struggling to escape from his imprisoning arms with all her lithe strength, she grated, harshly, "Let me g- go! I-I'll never go to... b-bed... with you... damn you!"

"So! You're going to be a little tigress eh? Well... that's just the way I like them wild... and hot!"

"Y-You're trying... t-to force m-me and that's rape!" Lois accused.

"You can call it that... if you want to... but you're going to get fucked... and you'll love every minute of it!" the big man chortled, lewdly. "As a matter of fact... you'll be begging me to fuck you!"

"I'll scream! I'll call for h-help!" she threatened.

"If you let out one little peep... I'll clobber you!" Harry countered, showing her his huge fist.

She groaned in her futility, the sound coming from the very depths of her soul. She was trapped... and there was nothing she could do to escape this huge man, who was bent on a sadistic revenge. She slumped, weakly, against him, conscious that her own body was entrapping her, also, to keep her here. His penis pulsed against the softness of her belly, warmly... and unwanted, salacious sensations began to spark in her. It was all so confusing. She wanted to maintain her moral standards on the one hand... but the lubricious demands of her body were trying to gain the upper hand. It would be so easy to cave in... let her resolve go hang... and let happen what may... Maybe it'd serve Stan right... to let him know that I'd evened the score by... by letting Vivian's husband... f-fuck m-me! Her mind wandered to the sex scene she had heard and witnessed, accidentally, and she knew it could happen... Her thoughts had been so confused... but she distinctly recalled how she had wished, fervently, at that moment... that she could have been that girl on the sleeping bag... taking that bearded man's cock deep into her pulsing cunt... It could happen... even to her! Should she let it happen... or should she struggle against it? Oh, God! I-I don't think I could d-do it... and be able to live with myself... afterward!

When she relaxed her body against him, Harry Williams thought she had given up... that she was going to go along with his idea of getting even... and he misinterpreted her moan of anguish as one of intense feeling.

"You won't be sorry..." he crooned into her ear, walking her backward toward the big, double bunk at the rear of the trailer, kissing her, now, on her neck, his tongue laving the smooth, young skin, moistly, then moving up to poke into her ear, the tip of it running around the edges, tantalizingly. She couldn't help the little erotic shiver that shuddered through her body.

Pushing her down onto the built-in bed, he leered down at her and hissed, "You're a luscious, little thing... cute as a bug's ear... and twice as sexy!" He stretched his bulky body out on the bunk beside her, his hand roaming down across her flat belly, on down the outside of her lovely, tapering thigh, to the hem of her dress, then back up the smooth, warm flesh of the inside of her trembling thighs to the acute angle between them, pulling the dress up, at the same time, to expose the satiny white expanse of her flesh above her stockings.

Lustfully, he gazed down at her loins, as his hand kneaded her pubic mound through her sheer panties. He grinned his satisfaction and wormed a finger under the leg-band to insert it, smoothly, into the top of her quivering cuntal slit, then searched for and found the tiny bud of her clitoris, hidden in its protected valley. With gentle fingers, he rubbed at it and felt it surge to alert erection under his teasing manipulation. He knew the effect it would have on her. It was the seat of her sensuality he taunted.

Lois felt the erotic thrill of his touch, but she cringed, inwardly, as she continued her unproductive debate with herself. Of one thing she was sure: She didn't want him to go any further, God! Why have I let him get this far? This is insane... !

"Oh, please... Harry! Don't do-do that! I can't let you go through with it!" she moaned, as she felt his strong hands force her thighs apart. His hand was tugging at the thin, nylon crotch of her panties... the only protection there was for her defensively cringing vaginal opening.

"It's too late... Baby Doll!" Harry laughed.

Twisting his hand into the wisp of nylon, he gave a hard yank and tore the crotchband asunder, the material ripping, loudly leaving her young, tender cunt naked and defenseless. Her body trembled with the outrage.

"No! Oh, God! No!" she cried aloud, clenching her thighs tightly together, and a hand went down, instinctively, to cover her exposed shame.

"Take your hand away... and open those thighs!" he ordered. "... Or do you want me to get tough with you... ?"

"Y-You wouldn't dare... hit me!" she challenged.

Wild fury was in Harry's eyes. He shook his fist in front of her face. "Don't try me!" he threatened.

Disgust for herself, fear of Harry... and that need she tried to deny worked to defeat her. Slowly, she relaxed the quivering muscles of her thighs, allowing the alabaster-white, tapering columns to splay out, slightly, revealing the coral-pink furrow glistening moistly there, a sparse ring of golden, blonde hair accenting the loveliness of the spectacle displayed to his lewdly staring eyes, and he could see the soft pink of her inner petals, bedewed with viscous moisture, peeping out, almost shyly. Above, her clitoris pulsated, wildly, in its only half-hidden valley.

... Then, it began for her!

She didn't want it... and she was helpless to stop it! Erotically, she felt his finger tracing the thin, pink slit of her pulsing, naked cunt, and she shivered with abhorrence, trying to squirm away from it. Then, he insinuated his finger into her cuntal passage, and there was a moment of salaciously prurient agitation... of warm need... and a strange, masochistic desire... of wanting it to go on, debasing her, humiliating her, beyond reason. She couldn't have explained it. It was just there... keening in her body-mind, as he shoved that tantalizing finger deeper inside her warm, moistly tremulant cunt.

Lois moaned in an agony of emotional conflict... of wanting... and not wanting. Her nerve endings were alive with the singing shimmer of sensual sensation, the electric shock of it spreading down her thighs and up her tingling spine. Her loins were responding, surgingly, to him. She didn't want it to happen this way... the way he had promised. God! Why doesn't he just crawl on top of me... shove it in and do it... ?

Screwing her hips down into the soft mattress, she tired to squirm away from his tantalizing finger, her moan changing to a mewling whimper of helplessness, as he thrust in and out of her several times, then he parted the softly curling blonde hair to make another, sudden, electrifying contact with the tiny, throbbing head of her erectile clitoris. She could feel the viscid moisture seeping from her, as unwanted and forbidden sexual excitement claimed her. With a groan, she clenched her teeth, fighting against the salacious pleasure he was causing her. It was a last ditch battle. She knew she couldn't let it go on. I'm being stupid... playing right into his hands... doing what he wants me to do!

Forcefully, Lois pushed against his chest, writhing and kicking to escape him. It was her last chance to get out of that trailer... without compromising herself!

"Stop it! Leave me alone damn you!" she spat. "You're just using me f-for your own purpose!"

Her sudden change of mind and the force of her attack caught Harry Williams off guard, but he wasn't surprised enough to release her. He caught her wrists in his steel-fingered grip and pinned her to the mattress with his bulky body.

"You little bitch!" he grunted, forcing a beefy thigh between her legs to wedge them open, while his finger went right on plundering the moist readiness of her clasping vaginal opening. "You're just as hot for it as I am! Your cunt's all wet... ready to be fucked... but you won't admit it! So... why don't you relax... and start to enjoy it?"

She stared up into the lewd smile on his face, no ready answer coming to her. Oh, God... he's right!

... Then, slowly, Lois stopped struggling, and she relaxed down into the softness of the mattress, the insane horror of her situation drumming into her frantic brain. She had been trapped... and part of the snare had been her own body.

Tears of humiliation began to glisten in her eyes. She was revulsed at her own role, but now there was nothing she could do, as she found that the teasingly cruel play of his fingers in her cunt elicited uncontrollable responses in her. Against her will, she felt her hips begin to move in tiny, undulant circles under her.

Rolling her head from side to side, the maddening sensations in her building ever higher, she realized that she was no longer trying to escape him. Her hips were beginning to raise her loins up to his plundering hand, wanting more of the frenzied, nerve shocking sensations that vibrated through her tender, sensate pussy.

"Oh! OOoohh! OOOooohhh... God!" she whimpered, involuntarily.

Harry released her wrists and bringing a hand up, stopped her flailing head, grabbing a handful of her hair to hold her tight. He kissed her, solidly, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth, while below he continued to rub, massagingly, at her naked, defenseless cunt. After a few moments, he mumbled into her mouth, "It's time to get those damned clothes off!"

Dully, she knew she would get undressed; it was almost a foregone conclusion. He had already ripped her panties away. There wasn't really much left...

Lois felt him raise her up, heard the zipper of her dress whisper down her back... and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about what she was doing.