Chapter 6

If the ropes didn't hurt so much, cutting into her tender skin, Jenny would swear she was having a nightmare. This was the type of thing she saw in the movies or heard on the news, not something that could ever really happen to her.

But each time she moved, each time she breathed, she was painfully aware of the reality of the situation. Her heart was thudding, she was having trouble breathing, and she was sick to her stomach. For the first time in her life, Jenny thought she might faint. Tears streamed out of her and she finally gave up fighting the ropes that bound her. The more she fought, the tighter they got and the more they hurt. Her arms and legs were already numb. She wished to God that Lynn would stop struggling.

Stop your goddamn squirming, she wanted to shout. Can't you see you're just making it worse? She'd have shouted that at Lynn had her own mouth not been stuffed with a wadded-up wool stocking, the stinking sock that the old bastard had pulled off his smelly foot and shoved into her mouth before tying the gag rope around her head. Thank God she hadn't vomited. She would have choked herself to death, would have drowned on a lungful of vomit.

Lynn stopped struggling, hopefully having come to the same conclusion as herself - that struggling was only making the ropes hurt more. They were bound together - herself and Lynn ass to ass and back to back. They were on their sides - Lynn on her left side, Jenny on her right side - in the hot dust of a barn yard. The sun was intense, blinding Jenny and making her sweat like she couldn't remember ever having sweat before. Salty sweat ran into her eyes, making them itch and burn. Sweat oozed under the coarse ropes binding her arms and legs, and the raw areas caused by her struggling against the tight ropes were stinging. She and Lynn were bound together like mummies, legs stretched out straight, crisscrossing ropes wound around their bodies from head to foot.

They were both stark naked, and their sweating flesh was glued together. Lynn's skin felt hot against Jenny, irritably hot. You goddamn hot bitch, Jenny thought. Cool off, damn it.

A fly landed on Jenny's nose and walked up and down it despite Jenny's attempts to shoo it away by wrinkling her nose and wincing. She stared at the fly, cross-eyed, saw it rubbing its hairy black legs together. Shitting on me, she thought, and she jerked, causing the ropes to slice into her flesh at the same time the fly buzzed off. Lynn groaned sharply, sounding angry.

"Well, well, how you girlies getting along?" came the voice Jenny despised more than any of the others. It was Harlan, the leader of this clan of smelly, psychotic hillbillies. She could see his big naked feet now pounding in the dust close to her face. This farm was like a nudist camp.

Harlan squatted. His huge, sausage-like prick dangled against her nose. His cock reeked - uncircumcised and probably unwashed for months. One of his sons was uncircumcised, too - the one he called Seth. It was, disgusting. Uncircumcised pricks smelled. Jenny had refused ever to touch one. Now she had one practically shoved up her nostril. She tried to hold her breath for awhile, but that was impossible. She breathed sharply, taking in life-giving air along with the nauseating scent of the old man's cock. She wished she were dead.

"Enjoying yourselves?" Harlan taunted. "Nice day. Good day for a party. Me and the young 'uns decided to save you some gas. You can have your party right here. No need to drive all the way up to Carver Lake. That's why we brung your fancy yellow car up here to the farm, so you can party without worrying about your poor car abandoned out there on the highway. We'll be partying shortly, soon as we take care of a few chores. The young 'uns is working like a pack of corn huskers so they can get done quick and begin partying. Well, take it easy now, and don't fret. We'll all be by shortly to commence partying."

His rough fingers closed around Jenny's nipples, and he pinched hard. She swore at the top of her lungs, but the words never sounded, absorbed by Harlan's rotted sock.

"Calm down," Harlan said. "I know you can hardly wait, with your itchy clit. Just rest easy. Ain't you never heard of work before pleasure? I know you're dying to suck my cock, but you've gotta wait. All there is to it."

Harlan farted, a huge stinking fart. Unbearable. Jenny visualized herself turning green. She closed her eyes and held her breath. When she opened her eyes again and strained for air, Harlan was gone, but his horrible fart still hovered around her head. Jenny wept. She hadn't cried since she'd been a small girl, but she cried now. That man was an animal. She had never been so humiliated. If she ever got away from this place alive, he'd pay for this. Her revenge would be infinite and everlasting.

What a deceptive devil this man Harlan was! He'd been a gentleman, bowing and smiling worse than any of the suckers in town, the men she and Lynn had enticed into bed for the purpose of blackmail. The irony had been that those suckers had treated them like princesses, had wined and dined them, had made passionate love to their pubescent bodies, and in the process these men had been damning themselves, had been setting themselves up for unending blackmail. On the way to the farm in the pickup, Jenny had seen in Harlan the ultimate sucker, the ultimate ass-kissing male. The man had appeared to be as tickled as a peasant in the presence of his queen. He was a psycho. Jenny imagined herself now as the stupid little girl who had accepted candy from a stranger and ended up - it was too horrible to even think about that now.

The sun rained down like acid. The breeze kicked up dust and whirled it up Jenny's nose. The air smelled of pig shit. Flies continued to land on Jenny's sweaty body, making her flesh itch. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself away from this place, willing herself up at the party at Carver Lake, a can of cold beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, she and Lynn surrounded by a few dozen worshipping young males, young males with rich parents and big cars. The sexual tension in the air would be enough to make the boys cream, but she and Lynn would choose only two lucky boys to lick their asses tonight. They'd choose the cream of the crop. Jenny Kane and Lynn Smith only accepted the best - the richest, the handsomest. Everybody knew that. Jenny Kane and Lynn Smith stood on top, the envy of every female in town, the perfect and rarely obtainable fruit desired by every last male in town. They were Cleopatra and Salome. They were goddesses. And Jenny was the golden goddess, the most desired of the desired. All bowed to her.

"I want this one," came the cracking pubescent voice. "Wow, she's got better tits than Ruby."

The little monster, brown as a jungle savage, scampered on his hands and knees in the dust. Jenny saw his turquoise eyes glint in the sun like the gemstone eyes of a pagan idol. His white teeth flashed, and he panted like a dog and sat back on his heels grinning at her. He was filthy with sweat and the smell of hay and manure. His cock was the largest Jenny had ever seen. His prick stood halfway up his belly, beating his muscle ridges with its apple-sized prickhead.

At least it's circumcised, Jenny thought. If I have to suck one of the filthy things, let it be his.

"Hold off there, boy," came the thick voice of Harlan. "You and Tyler get the other one first. Me and Seth are particular to this blond one."

"But, Pa!" the boy whined.

"But nothing. Do as we discussed or get to work on the chores we ain't finished yet."

"Oh, fuck!" said the boy.

"That's what I'm aiming to do," Harlan said. "Just as soon as we get these pretty ladies untied. Oh, look how they's all sweaty and red-faced. They's raring to go. You can tell that." He caught Jenny's left nipple between his dirty toes and tweaked it.

Jenny moaned. She hated the man, but she hated even more the feelings his filthy toes squeezed through her tit. Her cunt contracted, and immediately fuck juice oozed out between her cunt- lips. It was unbearable - to get turned on by the toe-tweak of this gross, smelly old farmer.