Chapter 4

Work at the mine finished early that afternoon. The weather changed and heavy rain began to fall. Before long water began to stream out of the tunnel making it at first uncomfortable and then too dangerous to continue.

"I see you've been giving my bitch some training," laughed Skull regarding the red stripes Carmen's belt had painted on April's backside. "What did she do to deserve a whipping?"

"You know damn well. And so do you, Max. Couldn't you resist sticking your dick in the tart's mouth? She told me what you did with her in the pool yesterday."

Max began to make excuses but Carmen gave him a baleful stare, turned her back, and busied herself getting an early dinner. Max, sensibly, let the subject drop. After the three had eaten a meal of steak, onions, cabbage and boiled potatoes—Carmen was no chef— Max opened one of the jars from his grandfather's still. The moonshine from the jar was very strong and Max was careful how much he drank. Carmen abstained but Skull had no such qualms. He drank heavily and poured the fiery spirit down April's throat.

The alcohol made Skull meaner and hornier than before but it seemed to help April endure, even accept, his rough attentions. She protested less when he threw her on the mattress, bit her nipples, slapped her full, fleshy, tits, pulled her legs over his shoulders and fucked her unmercifully. He drove his erection deep into the helpless woman making her cry out with every powerful thrust. When Skull demanded she, " ... fuck me back until you come, you big-titted slut", April did as she was told.

The hitherto passive victim bucked and writhed under Skull's harsh demands. She clawed his back. She kissed him furiously. She moaned with what could have been ecstasy until she came (or pretended to). Skull didn't bother to pull the hessian drapes. Max and Carmen watched the brutal coupling without saying anything. It was clear to Carmen that Max was aroused by the spectacle. She was ready to be scornful at the sight of his swollen cock bulging the worn denim fabric of his jeans but she too had found the sight of April's surrender and total humiliation sexually stimulating. She was also intrigued to see how April was beginning to accept her role as Skull's sex-slave. The blonde accountant hung on his every word and tried to anticipate his needs.

After he had beaten and fucked April to his own noisy climax, Skull went through his "little fuck-toy's" suitcases. He tossed out her neatly folded clothes and scattered her possessions over the floor of the hut. He said he was looking for something sexy she could wear. He found some black silk underwear and two silky slips. At the bottom of the second suitcase he found a vibrator—ten inches of latex-covered plastic cunningly shaped and battery driven. A card attached to the vibrator said, "To April, you may need this now you're engagement to Bob is over," It was signed "The girls from Sales."

"You won't need no plastic prick while you're with me, slut," he laughed as his victim put on a white silk slip Skull picked out for her. "Now you're gettin' a taste for my pork sword and starting to act like the whore you are. But who the fuck was Bob. Some pencil-dick in a fucking suit, I'll bet?"

April said nothing. Tears ran down her cheeks.

"I asked you a question, fuck-toy," snarled Skull.

Carmen came to her rescue.

"Come on, April, I'll help you with the washing up," she said and pulled the tearful victim over to the makeshift sink by the cabin door. Skull scowled at her but said and did nothing.

While the two women washed and dried the pans and dishes, a tearful April confided that she had recently broken off her engagement. She had hoped to marry 'Bob' one of the executives of the firm of accountants she had worked for. 'Bob' had let her down, she said, with one of his clients. She left the company two weeks ago. She was heading north with no firm plans when she had been abducted. April started to cry again as Carmen put her arm around her shoulders in a sympathetic, sisterly, manner. April responded to the kindly gesture—the first she had received since the dancer had assured her that she would be freed, not killed, once the treasure had been unearthed—by embracing Carmen. The smaller woman hugged her in return. She thought, I can't help you sweetheart but I don't think Skull will let you go. Don't rely on me. I'm getting to be as predatory as they are. I enjoyed beating you. I liked watching the psychopath rape you. It made me wet. Give me an excuse and I'll flog you and fist you until your ears drop off.

Skull staggered to his feet and grabbed April's arm. He pulled her clear of Carmen.

"Tha's 'nuf lessie stuff, Carmen. If you want a piece of Skull's little fuck-toy," he mumbled. "Join us in the back of the fucking Ford. I know it's your turn on the mattress with my ol' buddy Maxie. But that won't take long, will it? 'Night," he said as he dragged April out of the door and through the rain into the stolen vehicle.

Skull was wrong. For the first time since the jail-break Max, contrite and anxious to make amends, was able to make love in a leisurely gentle fashion and bring his wife to a more than satisfactory climax—twice—before celebrating her third orgasm with his own, strong, series of ejaculations. He tried to apologise for losing control with April but Carmen shut him up.

"Just don't do it again," she said.

The following morning the rain was still falling. It was decided that, as provisions were running low and more equipment was needed, Carmen should take the Ford and go shopping at Greenway, a market town two hours drive away. She took April's pocket book with her credit cards and licences and set off after breakfast. She left a frustrated Max and a hung-over Skull and April sitting in the hut watching the rain come down.

Carmen had no problems with the shopping. April's credit card was accepted without question. The dancer told an inquisitive salesman at the hardware store she and her husband were building a holiday house in the mountains. He was happy to demonstrate how to operate the small Honda generator and the lighting set and some power tools she bought with it. She also picked up two five-metre lengths of light chain, a pair of bolt cutters and a box of small padlocks. The comprehensive Greenway supermarket provided all the food and drink she had on her shopping list and the saddler next door sold her a bone-handled riding crop. The shop assistant asked her if she was a horsewoman and Carmen replied with a sly smile, "No. It's a present for a friend of my husband's."

The rain stopped as Carmen drove back and when she arrived at the cabin the sky was clear. She was surprised when no-one came to meet her and help with the unloading. She drove around to the back of the cabin and was even more surprised to see a beat up old Toyota Land Cruiser and trailer parked where Max had earlier hidden the Ford.

Carmen quickly scurried around the outside of the cabin and opened the door. Max stood just inside and gave her a welcome hug. Before she asked what was going on she looked around the room. Skull was sitting in the chair with a rifle across his knees. The barrel was pointed at two strangers—a young man and his even younger girlfriend. April, wearing a straw hat and the white slip she had earned the night before, hovered nervously by Skull's side. Carmen guessed the young couple were the owners of the old Toyota. Before she could say anything Skull called out.

"Welcome back, Carmen. Meet the squatters. Toni and Mirabelle."

The young couple looked at Carmen, eyes wide with fear. Toni was a smooth-skinned athletic youth with a fine head of curly brown hair and a swelling the size of an egg on the left side of his forehead. Mirabelle, a dark skinned girl with full pouting lips, clung to his arm and looked up at her boyfriend's bruised head with tears in her eyes. She looked like a child but two long braids of glossy black hair fastened with red ribbons only partly hid the ripe swelling of her mature up-thrust breasts. Her nipples were prominent beneath the thin tee shirt she wore. Neither young person said a word.

Skull continued, "Toni came bursting in about twenty minutes ago with his little .22 varmint rifle at the high port. The fuck-toy and me were caught with our pants down. We'd had a bit to drink. She was squealing 'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, ' so loud we didn't hear them drive up. But your husband had no trouble taking the gun off him. Max swings a mean frying pan. Toni is still a bit concussed. Ain't that right, shit-for-brains?"