Chapter 3

The next morning it was Nick who was the last to rise. When he found the others in the kitchen he walked directly to Sandy, a huge "shit-ass" grin on his face. Leaning in for a kiss, her slap caught him by surprise and his head jerked back.

Rubbing his cheek, he asked, "What was that for?"

"For last night."

"Last night? You seemed to enjoy last night."

"You asshole. You think I'd enjoy having someone rape me? You're lucky nothing happened."

"Rape you? Nothing happened? You came to me."

"I what?!"

"You came into my room and sucked me off, and then climbed on my face."

"I did no such thing!"

"And then you fucked me ... first in your pussy and then your ass."

This time Nick caught Sandy's arm as her hand approached his face. She violently yanked it away, her face red as her foot stomped heavily. "Are you out of your mind? I did no such thing. I would never put your thing in my mouth and ... and..." Sandy raged with anger. "I would never let anyone fuck me in the ass, especially not you!"

"But ... but..." Nick stammered. Then he turned to Jenny.

Holding her hands up, she leaned back. "It wasn't me, slugger. No way!"

Nick collapsed into a chair and remained quiet. He knew it hadn't been a dream. Everything he said happened. He couldn't understand Sandy's reaction. He had smelled her perfume. It had to be her. If not her, who? Nick once again looked at Jenny, but her look convinced him it hadn't been her. Then he looked back at Sandy. Her seething stare sent shivers up his spine. She was furious. How could it have been her? Nick even looked at the professor. Professor Hill could have given him a blow-job and ass-fuck, but the professor didn't have a pussy. Nick studied the effeminate man. He had always seen the professor as a sissy. Then his eyes traveled to the professor's crotch looking for signs of a cock. There were none.

Nick's mind was in turmoil. Could Professor Hill be a woman dressed like a man, a transvestite? Or worse, could he be a transsexual, a man who had an operation to acquire female genitals? Could it have been Professor Hill who had sex with him? That vision sent a shudder throughout Nick's body and he felt sick. A sullen Nick wondered who it had been; last night's pleasure fading into revulsion.

That day was spent in tension. There wasn't much talking and then everyone decided to be alone. Professor Hill retrieved some papers from the boxes he had brought and spread them on the kitchen table. He buried himself in his work. Jenny went into the parlor and cuddled up in a big chair, hugging her knees to her chest. She was more than a little scared. She didn't know who to believe. And she still remembered her own experiences. Nick and Sandy went to their respective bedrooms to be alone. Nick was confused and Sandy upset.

But they weren't the only people in the mansion. Mr. and Mrs. Smither had watched the scene in the kitchen through strategically placed peepholes in the wall. They were the caretakers and had been employed by the trust for years. Adept at being sleuths, they kept to themselves whenever visitors came to the mansion. Occasionally they were careless, but the noises heard but not seen only fueled the rumors about the mansion being haunted. When Sandy had said she was going to her room, they snuck through the secret passageways until they were looking through another set of peepholes.

"I want to fuck her raw," Mr. Smither whispered.

"I'm hurt," his wife teased with a contrived pout.

"You weren't hurt when you fucked your brains out with that boy last night."

"God I enjoyed that. It was a stroke of genius to steal some of the blonde's perfume. Hee-hee."

Mr. Smither looked at his wife. She was old and wrinkly, with thin gray stringy hair, a beak nose, and yellow teeth. He wondered if the handsome boy would have enjoyed having sex with her if the room had been lit. He chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. Look, I think she's coming into position."

The two old crows were silent as Sandy wandered around the room. She was still fuming from what happened the night before and what Nick said this morning. She aimlessly walked around the room, kicking anything in her path. When Sandy was standing with her back to the "special" wall, Mr. Smither opened the secret door. He quietly entered the bedroom unobserved and reached around Sandy's face, placing the chloroform filled rag over her nose and mouth. Sandy struggled for a few moments, but then went limp in the caretaker's arms.

Mr. Smither dragged the unconscious girl and flung her onto the bed. It wasn't easy for the old man with arthritic joints and big belly. His wife was waiting and slipped the blindfold over Sandy's eyes and then gagged her. They quickly removed the coed's clothes and then, while Mr. Smither tied ropes around her ankles and secured them to the posts at the foot of the four-post bed, his wife did the same with Sandy's wrists. They stepped back and stared at the naked beauty, helplessly spread-eagled on the bed.

While waiting for Sandy to awaken, Mr. Smither traced his gnarly fingers over her soft skin. But he wanted the young girl to be awake so he used the time to undress. Mrs. Smither stared at her old husband who hadn't been much when he was younger, but now he was almost grotesque. She wished she could remove the blindfold so the pretty girl could see who was violating her. But that would ruin her plan.

Sandy began to stir. In her half-sleep state, she inadvertently tugged on the ropes, and then suddenly became alert when she realized she couldn't move. Sandy tried to speak, and tried unsuccessfully to spit out the gag. She struggled relentlessly against the ropes until, out of exhaustion, fell limp.

Mr. Smither traced a finger across Sandy's cheek. It was her first indication that she was not alone and she turned her head to the side to avoid the contact. But Sandy couldn't move much. She felt fingers travel over her neck to her chest and then a hand cup her breast. She screamed into the gag, but only a muffled sound came out.

Mr. Smither fondled the college girl's breast and then played with her nipple. He enjoyed watching it stiffen. The old geezer gave the other breast equal time, and then lowered his mouth to the first one, sucking the sweet flesh and flicking his tongue over the nipple. All the while Sandy squirmed under him, trying to prevent him from touching her. If she had been able to see his pot-marked face and his nicotine-stained, crooked teeth with gaps, she might have tried harder, not that it would have done any good. It was actually merciful for her not to be able to see.

Mr. Smither could have played with Sandy's breasts for hours, but there were other areas to explore and he knew he didn't have unlimited time. He sat upright and studied Sandy's youthful body. It was pure and soft, wrinkle free, and didn't have an ounce of fat on it. A big grin appeared on his face when his eyes focused on her pussy. Nick's assumptions had been right. Sandy's pussy hairs were trimmed so that only a vertical line remained, and it was pure blonde.

Mr. Smither climbed between Sandy's legs and moved his face between her thighs. He stared at and sniffed the fresh young pussy. It was so different from his wife's old, hairy cunt. His fat fingers pried the pussy lips apart offering him a view of the pink flesh within. He heard Sandy grunt her disapproval through the gag. Mr. Smither extended a finger and flicked the flesh inside. Sandy strained at the ropes, her back arching off the mattress, but her pussy was easy prey. Mr. Smither became interested in the hooded clit and rubbed it with his forefinger in little circles. Sandy's movement became more violent, her body reacting to the very sensitive flesh being touched.

Sandy assumed Nick had somehow come up behind her and got her in her current, helpless position. When the trip began she had thought he was handsome and would be fun to go to bed with, but after he tried to rape her the night before she loathed him. And now he was raping her. The night before she had been able to dissuade him, but not now. She couldn't fight him ... she couldn't tell him to stop ... she couldn't prevent him from violating her. And now her hips were jerking as he touched her clit. She was afraid he would think she was enjoying it. If only she could tell him that wasn't the case. Again she screamed into the gag.