The Kidnapped Bride
by Dale Flash


Introduction 

Among contemporary American paperback novelists, one of the most uniquely 
talented is Dale Flash. And, as has been pointed out by critics and 
scholars, the key to his talent lies in his ability to create a character, 
create a situation in which that character must face almost unimaginable 
odds to survive, emotionally, spiritually or sometimes physically, then, 
before the reader's eyes, allow the character to adapt, almost 
chameleon-like, perform to the very limits of rationality in a game that is 
never his or her own, and somehow finally succeed (on the level of 
Aristolian purgation) when success would have seemed beyond hope. That is, 
author Flash's characters function beyond their apparent limitations. They 
do things they should not be able to do. This adaptability is their ordeal, 
and it is their redemption. In his new novel Mr. Flash takes this technique 
to its own artistic limit. In this story of a couple of newly-weds who 
become prisoners in the Arizona desert of two desperate escaped convicts, 
The Kidnapped Bride tells one of the most shocking love stories to appear 
recently on the American literary scene. And that is the magic of the book: 
It is not a sordid story of rape but a tender story of love, freely given by 
a woman who has maintained her virginity until her wedding day (the day the 
story begins), to a man whom she should only fear and loath. And yet it is 
feasible, natural, unforced. And her submission to Lucky, the wanted mass 
murderer, serves as a psychological commentary to the nature of love itself, 
just as her rejection of her own husband (the day after their wedding) must 
serve as an ironic commentary on the institution of marriage itself when 
that institution is used not as it was intended but as an excuse for 
legalizing the sex act and the sex act alone. 

It is with a sense of pride and destiny that we add The Kidnapped Bride to 
our list of distinguished contemporary fiction. 


One 

The highway was a straight flat ribbon running without a bend as though to 
the edge of the earth. The desert was a flat anvil, baked under the 
blistering sun. It was staid, endless and changeless, sand and cacti, sand 
and cacti ... 

Daria Harper leaned back on the car seat, pulling her short mini-skirt 
almost up to the leg bands of her panties and relishing the feel of the air 
conditioning between her slightly perspiring thighs. Her long hair hanging 
loose and free over shapely sloping shoulders partially exposed by the 
sleeveless sweater she wore, the sensuous young bride looked affectionately 
over at her husband John, whose eyes were intent on the road. Then she 
sighed and removed the map from the dash and folded it open. 

"Needles, Flagstaff, Yuma, Tombstone ... " she said winsomely. 

"Huh?" John asked, shifting his gaze from the road to Daria, his gaze 
descending briefly down to the shapely swells of her breasts clearly 
outlined in her tight-fitting sweater. 

"The names of the towns here in Arizona," she said. "There's something so 
magic sounding about it." Then, suddenly unable to contain herself, the 
sensuous twenty-one-year old blonde leaned suddenly over to kiss her young 
husband on the side of the face, her breasts brushing teasingly against his 
arm. "Oh John, I'm so excited to finally be moving. On the road, I mean. But 
not just that. I feel like finally, after all this waiting, we're finally on 
the road of our lives-together. Now ... I can hardly even understand why we 
waited so long." 

"Waiting was your idea," John said with a smile. 

Daria slid back over in the seat and leaned against the door. "I know," she 
said demurely. "I wonder if it wasn't a mistake." 

The young husband reached over and lay his hand softly on his wife's bare 
thigh several inches up from the knee. "I don't think so, now." 

"What?" 

"I'm not sorry we waited. Now we still have the fun of discovery ahead of 
us, I mean, the rest of the discovery. It's old fashioned as hell, like I 
said, but now that the waiting is over, it doesn't seem that bad." He paused 
for a moment, moistening his lips. "You liked it, didn't you honey?" 

Daria looked at him sharply. "What?" 

"I said, you did like it, didn't you? Making love?" 

"Of ... course I liked it," Daria said, swallowing hard as the words seemed 
almost to catch in her throat. Then she forced a smile over her face and lay 
her hand on John's, still resting on her slender bare thigh. "Of course, oh 
my God, I loved it." 

"Good. There was just a time ... there at the end ... when I thought ... 
when I thought you were let-down." 

"Oh John. It was wonderful. I was just a little sore." 

"And it'll get better. With two people, any two people, the first time it's, 
you know, a bit awkward. And for a virgin." 

He let his voice trail off. He glanced briefly back at Daria's now pensive 
face, then returned his eyes to the road. After a moment he removed his hand 
from her leg and placed it back on the steering-wheel. 

Daria turned her gaze again to the arid landscape. Far off on the horizon 
she could see a strange looking cloud, almost red, lying close to the earth. 
She stared at it for a moment, then forgot it as her thoughts began to 
drift. She supposed it was ridiculously old fashioned for two lovers in this 
day and age to wait until they were married before having sex. That had been 
John's persisting argument during the whole six months of their engagement. 
But being the stubborn girl she was, Daria had held out against all 
temptation. Then yesterday they had been married in a small civil ceremony 
in Los Angeles. They'd bid farewell to their parents, taken John's 
second-hand Chevrolet and set out on their honeymoon, a cross country tour 
that would end in New York City. They had stopped the night in a Holiday 
Inn. 

Even now flutters of nervous excitement coursed through Daria's body as she 
remembered. And even if taking the vows did place a stamp of moral approval 
on her defloration, it had done nothing to change the natural fear of 
penetration which had always plagued the chaste young blonde, and Daria had 
been literally gripped by fear as they'd ridden the elevator up to their 
room. Both of them had drunk quite a lot of wine with dinner and she 
recalled noting a kind of glazed look in John's eyes as his gaze coursed 
hungrily over her ripe young body. Then the elevator had stopped and they'd 
walked in tense silence down the hall to their room. John lifted her and 
carried her over the threshold. Holding her strongly in his arms, he had 
kissed her on the lips before letting her gently down to the floor. He stood 
looking at her in silence for a moment, then excused himself to go to the 
restroom. From the doorway he said, very softly, a request rather than a 
command, "Take off your dress, honey. And get into bed." 

Daria's heart was pounding rapidly and her breathing was hoarse and 
strained. She and John had on several occasions come fearfully close to 
going all the way, and her frustration when she'd finally stopped him had 
been almost unbearable. But now tonight there would be no stopping him, and 
if there'd been any doubt in her mind that the moment of truth had finally 
arrived that doubt was completely erased by the assurance with which he'd 
told her to get into bed. 

Daria listened to her newly married husband brushing his teeth in the 
bathroom. She watched herself in the three-quarter length dresser mirror, 
her eyes narrowing slightly as she reached up and started to unbutton her 
blouse. She parted the garment slowly off the full upstanding mounds of her 
breasts pushed up high and tightly together by her tight-fitting brassiere, 
shed it off her shoulders and lay it across the back of the chair. Then she 
reached behind her back and with a deft flick of her finger loosened the 
snap to the bar. She shrugged her shoulders slightly to work the straps down 
off her arms, her nipples swelling to tingling rigidity from their contact 
with the air. She loosened her skirt, giving a little wriggle of her hips to 
drop it down off the flare of her pelvis and her long slender thighs. It 
fell to the floor at her ankles and she stepped out of it, naked except for 
her low-hanging near-transparent panties. 

Daria's face was flushed with her building excitement as she observed her 
sensuously exposed body in the mirror. There was not an ounce of superfluous 
flesh on her slender shapely frame. Her skin was golden tanned, her legs 
long and tapered, her waist narrow and her buttocks flaring and tight. And 
even through the transparency of her panties she could just distinguish the 
sparse and silken triangle of light blonde pubic hair nestled so invitingly 
between her thighs. 

Daria was acutely conscious of her own sexuality as she let her eyes fix on 
the forbidden blonde triangle of hair. Then she jerked her gaze suddenly 
away from the mirror as the bathroom door opened and John emerged, his eyes 
widening slightly at the sight of her almost naked young body. 

"Jesus, baby," he said in a gusty voice. "You have got to be the most 
beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life." 

Daria did not know when she'd ever felt so completely naked and vulnerable, 
and she waited trembling as John walked slowly toward her, almost stalking 
her like an animal stalking its prey. His expression reflected almost a 
worship; and something about it gave her a funny feeling. But she couldn't 
deny the little wisps of excitement shuddering through her own naked 
nipple-peaked breasts and panty covered loins at the way he was looking for 
her. 

Then suddenly he was on her, gathering her into his arms and pulling her 
nakedness strongly to his chest, his lips covering over hers and his tongue 
snaking deep into her mouth. 

He kissed her for a long time, crushing her breasts against his muscular 
chest, dropping his hands down to the silk covered half-moons of her ass to 
pull her hardly protected pubic mound warmly up against the bulging rigidity 
of his already fully erected cock looming up in his trousers. Then he 
dropped his face lower, nibbling down over the sensitive skin of her neck, 
his hands digging into the firm pliant flesh of her ass cheeks from the 
outside of her panties. He held her for a moment longer, then released her 
and urged her gently back toward the bed. 

Daria's legs were limp with excitement and fear as she dropped down on her 
back on the bed. Then, mesmerized by her dread and anticipation, she watched 
John unbutton his shirt and push it off his broad muscular shoulders, then 
in a quick motion undo his trousers and jerk both them and his jockey shorts 
quickly down, the sight of his thick purplish pulsating cock almost taking 
her breath away. 

God, it was bigger than she'd ever imagined, much better than it had felt 
the times she'd touched it with her hand on the outside of his trousers, and 
she was suddenly gripped by a genuine fear at the thought of actually having 
to take it up inside her tight little vagina. 

Then, as she was trying simply to come to terms with the concept of what was 
about to happen to her, John kicked off his shoes, stepped quickly out of 
his trousers and was suddenly up onto the bed beside her, kneeling over her, 
his gaze roving hungrily over the naked curves of her prone surrendered 
form. 

A little shiver darted down Daria's spine as John reached out to cup his 
hands over the two naked swells of her breasts, the contacts of his palms on 
her nipples causing the sensitive little buds to swell to even greater 
tingling rigidity. He dropped over her, his face snuggling against the 
softness of her gently sloping shoulders, his tongue flicking out to lick 
maddeningly over the upper portion of one of her generously rounded breasts 
before his lips sought out her erect little nipple and covered right over 
the pulsating tingling bud. 

"Ooouuu," Daria moaned in spite of all her lingering trepidation. John's 
hands were mauling over her body like he was some kind of sex-starved 
animal, his lips sucking hungrily at the little desire-swollen bud of her 
nipple, his fingernails clawing at her goose-bumped flesh. He raked down 
over the ribs and her smooth flat belly, down across the tiny hole of her 
navel and into the first thin silken curls of pubic hair sticking out over 
the waistband of her flimsy little panties. Then she shivered as his hand 
shipped down into the top of the low-hanging little garment, his fingers 
brushing down through the sparse blonde hair of her cunt and venturing 
suddenly between her slightly parted thighs to trail right along the already 
lewdly moistened lips of her cunt. 

"Oh please," Daria whimpered, torn between the warm stirrings of excitement 
and her continued fear of the unknown. For a moment she suspended 
consciousness of the fact that she and John had been married that afternoon, 
that this was not mere play, but foreplay, leading to the inevitable 
frightening penetration to come. Then she was snapped rudely back to reality 
as he dropped down even more heavily on her prone and pinioned body and 
suddenly she felt the hot throbbing shaft of his penis prod straight up 
between her legs. 

A low moan spewed from the naked blonde's lips and she ground her buttocks 
down into the bed in retreat, flailing her head from side to side, her eyes 
opening wide as her young husband levered further up over her squirming 
body. At the same time he used his finger to part the flanged hair-lined 
lips of her cunt, working it slowly up into the cringing little opening as 
she jerked and struggled beneath him. 

Now in spite of all her natural fear Daria's whole body was crying out with 
inflamed and surging need, and she closed her eyes as he again fixed his 
lips over one of the tingling nipples of her breasts to resume a hungry 
sucking pressure on the sensitive little bud. His hands slipped from her 
cunt, his thumb stroking with maddening effect at the pulsating little nub 
of her clitoris. She felt him shift slightly above her, then stiffened as he 
seized the fully erected hardness of his cock and guided it straight up 
between her thighs to press right against the quivering entrance of her 
completely moistened vagina. As she started to reach down to try to defend 
herself he seized her by the wrist, pinioning her arms tight above her head. 
Then, holding her helplessly beneath him, he gave a low growl and lunged to 
ram the hard swollen head of his cock right up into the elastic-like little 
entrance of her lust-heated pussy orifice. 

"Oh, God?" Daria cried out from the raw searing sensation. The sudden sharp 
stab of pain almost took her breath away and she felt like she was about to 
be penetrated by a red-hot shaft of steal. But there was no relief or escape 
and as she writhed and moaned like a bound prisoner on the rack the searing 
penetration continued, the thick cudgel of hard male flesh shoving gradually 
deeper and deeper up into the cringing little pussy sheath, sweeping into 
her cunt with a surging vicious fury to tear her hymen like a tissue as it 
sank to the hilt into her previously unviolated vagina. 

"Ooooooooooohhh!" the writhing blonde moaned, her whole body racked by the 
agonizing entry. His massive cock was buried into her to the hilt and for a 
moment he lay completely still upon her. Then she tensed, giving out with 
another tortured gasp as he flexed his penis to throb it even deeper, and a 
moment later he began to move. 

Daria lay almost motionless in her pain and fear, her body trembling as John 
slowly withdrew and skewered carefully inward again, the bludgeoning member 
pushing apart the enveloping inner walls of flesh until she felt completely 
opened and lacerated. But at least the second pistoning entry had not been 
as painful as the first, and already she was beginning to realize that her 
terrible fear of the act of sex had been without real foundation. It did 
hurt, but she knew she had born the worst of the pain, and as her husband 
continued to skewer slowly in and out of her burning loins, the pain seemed 
to further subside. Her vaginal muscles stretched and adjusted, her 
lubricating fluids mingling with the blood of her torn hymen to further 
slicken and moisten the forced and stabbing invasion. 

Then, as John's hunching movements above her gradually increased in rhythm 
and intensity, Daria found her body seeming to respond with an instinct of 
its own. Almost without realizing what she was doing, she began to slowly 
undulate her buttocks beneath him, slithering her cunt warmly up and down on 
the still ruthlessly violating shaft of flesh ramming out between her 
forcibly splayed thighs. Suddenly, experiencing a complete rejuvenation of 
the lust that had gripped her before, she threw her hands up around his 
back, hugged her breasts warmly against his chest and kissed him hungrily on 
the lips as she began to grind her naked ass-cheeks in luxuriating circles 
up from the bed to further intense the mingled pain and pleasure sensations 
she derived from the continued burning penetration of her loins. 

"Oh my god, oh yes!" she cried out in final lust-inspired surrender. "Oh 
yes, it's good! I love it yes, do it to me!" 

It seemed to Daria at first that that must have been exactly what John had 
been waiting to hear. She just had time to see the sudden wild look in his 
eyes. She heard a low animal sounding groan from his lips. Then suddenly he 
was racking her body with a series of shattering staccato lunges, pistoning 
the lacerating hardness of his cock rapidly in and out of the still 
sensitively cringing opening of her cunt. Then as the surging liquid of his 
cum suddenly came spewing forth from the head of his cock, washing and 
mingling with her own vaginal juices as drop after teeming droplet flooded 
into the warm inner tightness of her cunt, she realized that John was 
already reaching his climax. Her words of surrender must have excited him 
beyond control, and he continued to hammer up and down over her squirming 
body, ramming again and again deep into her spasming, eagerly clutching 
pussy, racking her with the fury of his assault until the last drop of his 
hot male jism squirted deep up into her loins and he sagged down tiredly on 
top of her, panting in exhaustion as she continued to buck and thrash 
beneath him. 

"ooooohhhhhhhh!" Daria moaned in despair as she realized her defloration was 
ending just when she'd really been starting to enjoy it. Miraculously the 
terrible pain she'd experienced before had completely ended. Her whole body 
was on fire with seemingly insatiable lust, and she thought she could have 
died as she felt the filling shaft of John's cock begin almost immediately 
to inflate. Then he kissed her, briefly and tenderly on the lips. Then he 
withdrew and rolled off and lay, panting to catch his breath, on his back on 
the bed beside her. 

 Two 

Daria could almost feel the terrible frustration that had gripped her, and 
for a moment she wasn't even aware of the slowing down of the car. Then she 
heard John mutter a soft curse under his breath and she looked sharply 
around. 

"What's the matter? Why are you stopping here." 

In the instant before he answered her eyes took in the seeming endless 
expanse of the unchanged plain around them, the cacti standing like silent 
thorned sentinels, that red cloud she now recognized as a moving wall of 
wind-swept sand looming much nearer than before. 

"It's heating up." 

They rolled to a halt on the shoulder of the road. A truck roared by, 
blaring its horn. 

"Damn. I should of flagged him. I didn't realize he was behind us." 

"What's the matter?" Daria said again. 

"The engine's heating up." 

She looked at the thermometer just before he cut the ignition and saw that 
the needle showed 220 degrees. She felt hot outside air as he opened the 
door, and smelled the strange dry-dusty odor it bore, somewhat as air will 
bear the odor of rain from a distant, approaching storm cloud. Then he 
stepped out and closed the door and moved to the front of the car to open 
the hood. After a moment Daria got out. She cast an apprehensive glance at 
the looming dust storm, then also walked to the front of the car, where a 
cloud of steam rose from the heated engine. 

"Radiator's leaking," John said. "She's empty now. If we drive any further 
it'll burn up the motor." 

"There's a dust storm coming," Daria said. 

"I know." He stepped away from the car and peered back down the highway in 
the direction from which they'd come. "Not a car on the road. I should've 
flagged that truck." He turned and looked the other way. "Must be twenty 
miles to a town. But ... is that a house up there?" 

Daria squinted, following his gaze. "Where?" 

"The right of the road, way up there." 

After a moment she distinguished the brown dot. "It's a building." 

"Then we'd better get going. There's bound to be water there." 

"The dust storm ... ?" Daria said, looking again toward the approaching 
cloud. 

"Yeh, I see it. We'll have to hurry. Don't wanna get caught out here in 
that." 

John opened the door of the car and removed the keys from the ignition. He 
took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the dash, lit one and started 
to lock the door. 

"Just a minute," Daria said. "Let me change into my sandals. These are hard 
to walk in." 

"Well hurry, then," John said with slight impatience. 

Daria changed into her sandals and they set out along the road, walking 
hurriedly before the threat of the coming sandstorm. Occasionally John would 
turn to peer back the other way in the hope of seeing a car. But there was 
nothing. It was as though they were completely alone in the world. 

The walk took much longer than they would have suspected. The distance had 
been deceiving. Finally the house began to take shape, a rambling adobe 
structure, Spanish style with a red tejado tile roof. 

"Jesus," said John. "I wonder who would build a house out here." 

Exhausted and feeling as though she would die of thirst, Daria trudged on 
beside him, casting another quick look at the dust cloud, now so close she 
thought she could almost have reached out and touched it. By the time they 
reached the gate to the rock fence that surrounded the house she could feel 
the hot gusting wind and the first grains of sand, stinging like pellets 
from an air rifle as they pelted her tender skin. 

"It looks deserted," she said. 

"Yeah. We'll have to break in." 

They ran to the front porch. John pounded hard on the door, put his ear to 
it to listen to a sound from within, tried the handle and found it locked. 
He tested it with his shoulder, then took Daria's hand and led her back down 
the steps and around toward the side. 

"We'll try the back, or go through one of the windows." 

The back door was also securely locked, but the shutters were open on one of 
the windows there. John left Daria standing against the wall for protection 
from the thickening sand, went to the fence and retrieved a couple of 
stones. He came back, hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and 
tossed one of them through the glass. 

"I guess they'll understand, whoever's place this is," he said as he used 
the other stone to break away the glass that remained in the lower half of 
the window frame. "I'll let you in the backdoor," he said before he 
scrambled up over the window ledge and dropped to the floor, passing out of 
Daria's sight behind the curtain that still covered it. 

Now the storm had really arrived and Daria inched her way along the wall to 
the back door, and waited. And waited ... 

And waited ... 

"John! Open up, John!" She raised her fist and pounded hard, the sound of 
the knocking almost obscured to her ears by the sound of the rushing wind. 
"John! Let me in!" 

She tried the handle again. She shoved against the door with her shoulder. 
She drew back and lunged harder but it opened before she made contact with 
the wood; she went stumbling through into a small corridor, sprawling 
head-long onto the floor, her skirt flying up from her thighs almost to the 
legbands of her lacy white panties. She groaned, rolled on her side and 
laboriously levered herself up on her elbow. Then a sudden low cry rose to 
her lips: 

"John!" 

Standing over her was a man she'd never seen in her life, shirtless and 
hairy-chested, forty-ish and stocky though his muscular frame bore little 
excess fat. His features were coarse, his face and balding head deeply 
burned by the sun. His blue eyes reflected a kind of innocence, Daria 
thought, or even stupidity; somehow they reminded her of the eyes of a 
friendly dog. But in spite of his benign appearance something about the way 
he was looking at her almost made her skin crawl. He was looking at her with 
an almost eerie fascination, his eyes roving slowly over her long slender, 
now almost completely exposed thighs, up over the tightly rounded cheeks of 
her ass and her narrow waist and torso, the straining high-set swells of her 
breasts stretching out in her tight-fitting sweater, her lovely, sultry, now 
shocked and frightened face framed in the long, loose flowing blonde of her 
hair. 

Daria didn't think she'd ever been examined by a man the way this man was 
examining her now. He was looking at her as if she were the first woman he'd 
ever seen in his life. 

"Who ... are you?" 

"My name's Hank." 

Daria tugged her skirt down over her smooth golden-tanned thighs. She 
scooted back a pace on the floor as the man stepped toward her. Then he 
reached down suddenly and took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She 
cringed away from him, still trembling with fear, almost feeling his eyes 
burn into the sensuous flesh of her breasts right through her sweater and 
tightly constricting brassiere. 

"Where's ... where's my husband." 

He said nothing for a moment. He was just looking at her, at her face, her 
breasts, her thighs and her lower belly where the miniskirt lay lightly 
between them, giving just a hint of her little forbidden pubic triangle. He 
seemed to hear the question only belatedly, as if something else had snapped 
him out of a trance and he heard not the question itself by a vague and 
distant echo. 

"He's your husband." It was a dead kind of statement on his lips. His face 
wrinkled into a thoughtful frown. He regarded her silently for a moment and 
said: "He had an accident." 

"John?" Daria's free hand flew up to cover her mouth. 

"If that's his name," Hank said, turning away suddenly and almost pulling 
her off her feet as he started down the hall. 

He opened a door and they stepped into a cozy den with a masculine decor and 
old antique-looking wooden furniture. He released her wrist and Daria, 
stared aghast at John, sitting on a couch with his head bowed, blood 
dripping from his nose, a defeated, shamed look in his eyes. 

Sitting across the room in an easy chair was another shirtless muscular man, 
young, tall and broad shouldered with a handsome sunburned face, steel gray 
eyes, hair blond-bleached by the sun. He was panting to catch his breath, 
staring across at John. It was only an instant after Daria and the other man 
entered the room that he looked up at her. In his eyes roving over the 
supple curves of her body there was a kind of dazed awareness. She felt 
almost naked standing before him. She was stunned by his kind of 
country-cowboy good looks. For a reason she couldn't quite understand she 
was excited by the way he looked at her, and she felt at the same time 
deeply ashamed, somehow dirty; her body was an object of self-revulsion. 
Outside the window she could see the sand whirling by. The heat was almost 
stifling, incongruous with the sound of the storm. She looked at John's 
bleeding nose again. She looked at the man's hand, where there was a fresh 
abrasion over the knuckles. A shiver went through her as her eyes met his. 
Then suddenly she was stumbling forward toward him. 

"What have you done?" she hissed. 

He was standing up slowly, she still stumbling toward him. 

"You bastard!" It was a screech. 

She was upon him, flailing his face with her open hand. 

"Goddamn, woman!" 

Her hand struck his face again. He seized her wrists, pulling them down, 
pushing them behind her back, crossing them just above her buttocks, the 
pressure causing her to lean forward, her breast brushing against his bare, 
perspiring chest. She smelled the strong male odor of his body, she was 
acutely aware of his nearness and strength. She kicked at his shins. It was 
almost ineffective because she was wearing only sandals. 

"Let me go!" she cried. "John!" 

She looked back over her head. John sat where he was, staring at her almost 
dully. She looked back at the tall brutishly handsome man, holding her 
effortlessly in his arms, pressing her trembling body against his own so 
that she could feel the stirring pressure of the growing bulge in the crotch 
of his trousers, pushed right up against her own soft inner thighs. 

"Let me go!" 

"So you can knock hell out of me again?" 

"You hit my husband." 

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to hurt him." He smiled. "How'd I know he wasn't a 
burglar?" 

Then he kissed her suddenly and hard on the lips. Daria was so surprised she 
didn't even have time to close her mouth in defense. His tongue snaked 
hungrily between her teeth. He ground his bulging trousers-clad cock against 
her loins. He was breathing his hot breath deep into her mouth, holding her 
limp body strong against his own. 

For an instant Daria's legs seemed on the verge of buckling beneath her. She 
felt as if the room was spinning around her. She melted in the strong young 
man's muscled arms, against his thinly haired chest. She took his tongue 
greedily in, almost to her throat. It was just a slip, a slackening, a 
reflex done without thought or intent. Then she realized what was happening 
and she almost screamed with shame as she snapped back awake, jerking her 
head away, kicking and struggling with all her might, almost falling as the 
strong hands gripping her wrists turned loose. 

She stepped back. The man was looking at her with a cold hard gaze. There 
was just the slightest hint of a curl to one side of his lip. She swung 
again to slap him. He caught her wrist, held it until she ceased to 
struggle, then released it. Daria's arm fell to her side. Breathless, she 
took another step back and looked around at John, still sitting where he'd 
been on the couch, his expression unchanged. 

"John!" she gasped, her voice almost cracking. "John, who are these men." 

"It's obvious," John said almost tiredly. "See the white trousers? They're 
convicts from the state work-farm up north. Probably on their way to Mexico 
when they got caught in the storm." 

 Three 

"Call me Lucky," said the younger of the two escaped convicts. "That's what 
they used to call me before I got sent up." 

He sat at the kitchen table, inspecting the broken-down double-barrel 
shotgun he'd found in one of the bedroom closets. On the table before him 
lay a box of shells and a .22 caliber pistol he'd also found in the closet. 
John sat mute and gloomy across the table from him. Hank, the older con, 
stood looking out the window at raging storm. Daria was making sandwiches 
with reasonably fresh bread from the refrigerator and some deviled ham she'd 
found in the cupboard. 

"Dunno whose place this is," Luke said. "But he sure didn't take much care 
of his guns. Figured it was your place till you didn't come through the 
front door. Sounded just like a cop when Buster here started knocking out 
that glass, the way they'll knock 'em out with the butt of their gun. That's 
the only reason I socked him. Hell, I didn't mean to bloody his nose." 

"W-what are you going to do with us?" Daria asked, turning to face the 
handsome shirtless man. He looked up at her thoughtfully. He joined the 
shotgun back together, shoved two shells in the barrel and slammed it closed 
with a click. His eyes were roving intently over the soft supple curves of 
her body. The question echoed in her mind. There was in it a recognition, an 
admission: they were under his power; it was his decision as to what would 
be their fate. It was terrifying and yet it was exciting. There was a 
powerful, almost staggering symbolism in the words, to do with-it made them 
objects. And she knew he could do anything to them, or with them, that he 
wanted. He could take them as hostages. He could kill them. He could rape 
her ... 

"I dunno," he said thoughtfully, still looking at her in a way that almost 
made her tremble. 

"Are you going to ... keep us here?" she ventured with a quivering voice. 

"Well it's a cinch we ain't gonna let you leave before we do. But nobody's 
going anywhere till that storm's past." 

"And ... how long will that be?" 

"Hank?" Lucky asked, looking up at the man at the window. 

Hank turned. "I seen 'em blow for two days. All depends." 

"See? There ain't no way of knowin'." He turned and looked at John, sulking 
across the table. "What's wrong with your car." 

"Radiator's leaking. Left it a few miles back up the road." 

"Hell. Least you could've done is limped it on to the house. Car on the 
road's gonna attract attention out here. We can fix that radiator, least 
enough to get us to the border. Ain't that right Hank?" 

"Hell I guess it is. I've fixed a radiator with a piece of chewing gum and 
gotten further'n that." 

"You think you're going to take our car to the border?" 

That was John. Daria turned suddenly to look at him. It was the first word 
of objection, to anything, she'd heard from his lips since they'd walked 
into this horrible situation. But it was a protest without force, like the 
complaining of a child. She looked at Lucky, the studious way he was 
regarding her husband. 

"You think you can just take it, just like that?" 

"I dunno who's gonna stop us," Lucky said without malice or contempt. "Hell, 
it ain't nothin' personal. We're just in sort of a fix here." He stuck the 
pistol in his back pocket, propped the shotgun against the table, walked 
over to look out the window at the storm. Then he came back and retrieved 
the shotgun and walked out the door. After a moment Hank went out after him. 

Daria spread the last of the deviled ham onto the last slice of bread, 
turned and put the platter onto the table. She stood staring silently down 
at her sulking husband, then spoke to break the silence: 

"What are we going to do, honey?" 

He looked up, his eyes flashing. "Do? What can we do? They're armed, and 
desperate." He paused, staring at her body, then added: "You let him kiss 
you." 

"Let him kiss me?" she hissed, her face reddening with anger. "I was 
fighting him." 

"Yeah. Don't give me that. I saw. I was watching, remember." 

The anger went through her like a white blinding wave, and left her 
trembling, face flushed, a crazy glint in her eyes. "I know you were 
watching. You were just watching." 

She slammed the platter down and turned and stalked out of the room after 
the two men, the two real men, she was thinking to herself. And yet she knew 
deep down inside that what disturbed her most was that there was a grain of 
truth in what her husband had said. She couldn't understand it herself. She 
didn't know what had happened to her. But she had let him kiss her. And just 
for that instant when she'd forgotten herself, she had enjoyed it. 

* * * 

The house was best defined as ranch-style. There was the den, a spacious and 
luxuriously furnished living room, three bedrooms, the kitchen, a very 
modern bath. It was adjoined by a garage, now devoid of an automobile, 
though Hank reported there were an ample supply of tools and that he was 
sure he would have no trouble getting John's Chevy running again once the 
storm had passed and someone could go out and retrieve it. The decor of the 
place was in general very masculine. The name that appeared on the small 
amount of correspondence, most bank statements and other business mail Lucky 
found was addressed to Major Harvey Edgels, U.S.M.C. (retired). 

"Guy must just like nice houses and like the desert," the blond-headed 
convict said. 

They were seated in the den, Lucky in the easy chair, Daria perched with her 
legs crossed on the couch. John, as far as she knew, was still in the 
kitchen. Hank, having noticed air vents in the wall, had suspected the house 
was centrally air conditioned and had gone in search the thermostat 
controls. He said he hadn't been in an air conditioned room in just over 
seven years. Daria didn't miss the implication, and the very thought of it 
sent chills down her spine. 

Lucky had discovered the den was equipped with a well-supplied liquor 
cabinet and had poured himself a whisky. He'd offered Daria something and 
she had politely refused. Now she almost regretted it. Her nerves were badly 
frayed, and sitting here in this tense silence with that black storm raging 
outside, across from her this almost dashingly handsome brute of a man who 
had been incarcerated for no telling how long for no telling what heinous 
crimes, was almost more than she could bear. 

Lucky lifted his glass and downed it. He stood up and walked to the liquor 
cabinet, took the bottle of whisky and poured another, regarding the alcohol 
as if it were liquid gold. Daria sat still cross-legged, her skirt smoothed 
down over her sensuously contoured thighs, her breasts rising and falling 
slightly with her low, strained breathing. Sensing his attention was 
directed elsewhere, she allowed herself to place him under a moment's 
careful scrutiny, her eyes moving slowly over his bronze-tanned arms and 
broad muscular back, flat stomach and thinly haired chest. In her mind she 
made a quick comparison between his hard-labor conditioned body and John's 
more flaccid physique. She felt a twinge of shame as she realized the 
implication of that thought. Then Lucky suddenly looked up at her and she 
jerked her eyes quickly away from him, flushing slightly with embarrassment. 
She squirmed nervously on the couch, uncrossed her legs and crossed them 
again. When she looked back he was still staring, and again she experienced 
an unwanted shivering flutter down in her belly and loins as she remembered 
the way he'd held her in his arms to subdue her after she'd attacked him in 
her feminine feline rage. 

"You better go out and see about your old man," he said, his gray eyes 
smoldering as he observed her soft supple curves. 

"He's ... he's all right. He's just a little upset," she said in a faltering 
voice. 

"Yeah. He'll get over it, long as he doesn't try somethin' stupid." 

Daria stood, acutely conscious of his eyes on her body. She took a couple of 
steps toward the hall door, then paused and looked back at him again. He 
sipped his whisky, observing her with a ruthless animal gaze. For the 
briefest instant her eyes strayed to the shotgun leaned against the chair 
where he'd sat. She realized that now she was actually closer to it than he 
was. But she knew she would never have had the courage to use it, even if 
she could have gotten to it first, even if she had known how to fire it. 

Then she looked back at him. "What are you going to do with us?" 

"Well ... " He moistened his lips. "I 'magine you know what I'd like to do 
to you about now." 

Daria cast her eyes quickly away toward the floor, the obvious meaning of 
what he'd said causing a shiver to run maddeningly up her spine. "I didn't 
mean it that way," she stammered after a slight pause. 

"Uh-huh. Doubt if you got much idea what it's like to live couped-up with a 
bunch of men." When she looked up again he had the tall glass turned up to 
his mouth. He emptied it, lowered it, wiped his lips with the back of his 
hand. "I ain't gonna kill you, I don't think. So git on outta ..." 

His voice trailed off. He was looking at the door. She turned to look. 
Standing in it was John, the same wounded look on his face. 

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked after a tense moment's silence. 

"Naw." Lucky sighed, poured another drink and walked back to the chair. "You 
all right, Buster?" 

"Sure," John said. "I'm feeling just fucking great." He turned his eyes 
suddenly toward Daria, glaring at her bitterly. Then he looked back at the 
escaped convict. "Our honeymoon, you know. We were gonna drive cross 
country: New Orleans, Memphis, Washington, D.C ... end up in New York." He 
paused and looked at the darkened window. Night was falling but it was 
hardly perceptible on the already darkened sky of the storm. "That sand's 
going to ruin the paint job. I bet it looks like the craters on the moon 
before it's through with it." He laughed, pitifully. "But you're going to 
steal it anyway." 

"Yeah. You got insurance, theft insurance?" 

"Yes." 

"Then what the hell are you complaining about? Have a drink and get your 
mind off your troubles." John walked to the liquor cabinet, removed a bottle 
of gin and half filled a glass. He walked to the couch and sat down, 
drinking moodily. Daria stood where she was, staring silently down at her 
husband, wondering what it was that had happened that had made her feelings 
change so abruptly and so drastically, wondering if this, the way she 
thought she felt now, had felt the last two hours, was real, or if the 
other, the way she'd thought she felt for the whole year they'd been going 
out together and the one brief moment of loving bliss she'd enjoyed before 
he'd suddenly lost control and cum in her and her defloration had abruptly 
ended, was real. She walked to the window, slowly, moving her body 
sensuously, acutely aware of the beating of her heart, of the awakened 
feminine animal that had lived dormant in her so long, acutely aware of the 
ruthless brute of a man who sat shirtless and staring at her from across the 
room. She turned, sucking her breath in to cause a perceptible straining of 
the firmly rounded swells of her breasts. Then she started as Lucky added: 
"And you go sit down with Buster. You're making me nervous, prancing around 
there like some Tucson hooker." 

Daria somehow stifled the gasp that rose in her throat. As though it was a 
sound from far away, she heard John's quick burst of laughter. She felt her 
face redden again. The convict was staring at her now almost without the 
slightest spark of emotion in his steel gray eyes. For a moment she couldn't 
even find the voice to speak, and when at last she did the words came out 
slurred, meaningless sounding and crazy: "If you think ... you filthy 
lecherous ... if you believe that just because you've got that ... that 
shotgun ... if you think you can talk to me like that ... well I want you to 
know ... I want you to ... " 

"Shut up, honey." It was John, his voice dry and gloomy, on the couch behind 
her. She turned, her eyes filling with tears, to glare at him. "He's right. 
Pour yourself a drink and sit down and relax." 

"Oh ... you!" 

She rushed suddenly across the room to the door and out. She stumbled, 
blinded by her hurt and rage, back down the hall to the kitchen. Seeing the 
tray of sandwiches she'd made she noticed that at least someone had had a 
couple of them. She took one herself, bit into it, chewed slowly and 
swallowed. She dropped the rest of it onto the tray. She turned to the 
refrigerator, jerked the door open and removed a tray of ice and ran it 
under the hot water in the sink. Then she emptied it into a bowl, took it 
and started stiffly back out and down the hall to the den. 

"Didn't mean nothin' personal when I popped you this afternoon ... Jus' want 
you to know that. We don't mean nobody any harm ... . " 

That was Lucky, talking to John sitting silent on the couch. The convict 
also fell silent as Daria entered the room. Her eyes still reddened, she 
walked stiffly across toward the liquor cabinet, staring straight ahead, 
looking at neither of them. She put the bowl on the cabinet. She dropped 
several cubes of ice into a glass and poured a generous drink of gin over 
the ice. She took a deep breath, lifted it to her lips and drank almost half 
of it down in a gulp. She paused, gasping and grimacing from the bitter 
after-taste, then drank again, emptying it, filled it and drank again, the 
warming effect of the alcohol running pleasantly through her body as the 
blurring wave of lightening inebriation passed evenly through her brain. 
Then she sighed, conscious for the first time of the coolness of the air 
conditioning, which seemed to have crept slowly over the room. Then, hearing 
footsteps in the door, she turned to see Hank come through. 

He paused, he looked at the two men, then at her. She thought she detected 
sympathy, or even a kind of empathy, in his simple, dog-like eyes. 

"There's a attic overhead," he said, looking up. "Trap door out back leads 
to it. Then, up there, those vents, if you open them, gives you a straight 
shot into the house." 

Lucky nodded. "We can hole up there if anybody comes snooping around." 

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. See, they are here now." 

"Hunh?" Lucky rose suddenly to his feet. 

"Couple of state-troopers just pulled up outside." 

The silence that seemed to freeze the little gathering like rigid salt 
statues must have lasted only a few seconds. And yet during those seconds, 
as Daria stood motionless too just letting her eyes move from one face to 
the next, she thought the whole lines of conflict, the whole eerie still 
undrawn and unacknowledged emotional tangle in which they all found 
themselves embroiled became clear. She saw that mixed gleam of hope and fear 
in her husband's eyes. She saw Lucky's steel-gray eyes grow hot as though 
with a myriad of conflicting forces: anger, maybe fear, determination and 
lust, and when he looked at her that gleaming flicker of carnal awareness 
she'd observed with such impact before. And now, she thought, he was 
thinking that he could have done it, could have had her, and now it might be 
too late. 

And she was thinking it too, her heart pounding-she didn't know how she 
felt. 

 Four 

Then he was moving, Lucky, the silence was broken, gone. "You do the 
talking," he said to John, and Daria couldn't help wonder if he'd picked 
John to face their adversaries because he thought she would be more likely 
to betray them, or for some other reason entirely ... "You're upstairs with 
us," he said, pointing at Daria. Then he had the shotgun in his hand, 
pitched it to Hank, and said: "Take her on up. Get on that vent in the hall 
where you can see the door. 

"Me do the talking?" John said, looking slightly stunned. 

"Yeah. If there's talking to be done." He took out the pistol and waved it 
in his face. "This is for the girl if you say something wrong. He paused and 
added: "But before that the shotgun's for you and the heat." 

John swallowed, his face blanched. "But ... what do I say?" 

"Well now it depends on what they ask, doesn't it?" said Lucky. "This place 
belongs to a Major ... English. You're an old friend. The ... the car's 
yours if they ask about that. No mention of us, I mean no goddamn mention of 
any escaped cons, unless they ask. You got that." 

He nodded. "Yes." He looked ruefully at Daria. Hank had her arm and was 
leading her away but she was moving slowly, holding back, for reasons she 
still didn't quite know. She saw again the bitterness in John's eyes; they 
seemed to take in her whole body, as if he hated all of her. Then the 
doorbell rang and he turned suddenly away. 

"Hold it." Lucky nudged him with the gun. "Wait till we're up there." 

Then he moved swiftly, his hand just brushing the small of her back as he 
guided her out of the door ahead of Hank and down the hall toward the back 
of the house. Now she went without resistance. The trapdoor in the ceiling 
of the little back closet was open; a ladder stood beneath it against the 
wall. She went up it first, conscious of Hank's eyes widening slightly as he 
glimpsed up beneath her skirt from below. She ascended, breathless, up into 
a dark, low ceilinged attic. Hank came up behind her, then Lucky. Downstairs 
the doorbell rang again, followed by a loud knocking. They went, stooped 
beneath the tile roof of the house, back toward the front. Through a vent 
she glimpsed the living room. They passed it and went on. 

"There," Hank whispered. 

Ahead she saw the light of another vent. They reached it and she felt a hand 
on her shoulder, turned to Lucky and in the darkness saw him motioning for 
her to lie down. She lay down, peering through the vent down into the 
hall-foyer at the front entrance to the house. Hank knelt on one side of 
her. Lucky signaled and he put the pistol, which he'd apparently exchanged 
the shotgun for, against the side of her head. She shuddered, sucking her 
breath in deeply, and bit her lip, for a moment mortified at the thought it 
might go off and accidentally blow out her brains-or that John might panic 
and say something or try to make a run for it. Then Lucky was down, 
reclining on the other side, the end of the double-barrels resting against 
the vent, one of his hands resting light on her back just at the foot of her 
spine as though in gentle reassurance, an incongruous contrast to the 
sensation of having the gun at her head. Then the bell rang again and below 
them John came into view. She noticed that he'd taken the time to pour 
himself another drink before he left the living room. In the silence that 
followed the ringing of the doorbell she could hear the ice-cubes tinkling 
in the glass. 

He opened the door and stepped back as two police, their head and shoulders 
hooded under army blankets, barged through. Through the door she glimpsed 
the black of the night, the windswept sand, heard the roar of the storm. 
Then one of the troopers closed the door. They shed the blankets, shaking 
out the sand with disregard for the carpet beneath their feet, and after 
what appeared a moment of orientation, they fixed their attention finally on 
John, who was silently sipping his drink. 

Still no one spoke. The silence seemed unbearable. Daria was acutely 
conscious of the gun-barrel against the side of her head, of the hand 
resting light on the small of her back, of the beating of her heart and the 
low strained gasping of her breath. 

Then John toasted and took another sip of his drink. "Is there something I 
can do for you officers?" 

"Sorry to barge in on you like that," one of the cops said, catching his 
breath. 

"Just not much time for introductions with that sand whippin' into your 
ears," the other drawled amiably. 

There was another brief moment of silence. John turned slightly and Daria 
was able to glimpse his face. He looked speechless, but he looked drunk, and 
perhaps, she thought, the police would interpret that as the cause of his 
silence. 

"This your place here?" one of the troopers asked, looking at him 
studiously. 

"No ... It's ... uh ... a friend's of mine, Major English?" 

"Major in now?" asked the cop. 

"No, he's gone ... down to Yuma for a couple of days." 

Again there was silence, then suddenly Daria's body stiffened and she jerked 
her head quickly around as she felt Lucky's hand move lower down her back, 
sliding right down over the full tightly rounded swells of her buttocks, 
hardly protected beneath the flimsy material of her short skirt and her 
clinging little panties. 

In the darkness of the attic she stared wild-eyed at him, stifling the cry 
that almost burst verbally from her lips. She could still feel the pistol 
barrel pressed hard against the side of her head. She was fearfully 
conscious of the double barrel shotgun lying on the floor between them. In 
the faint light coming up through the vent she could see his eyes, gleaming 
like an animal's framed in headlights on the road at night. Behind her she 
could hear Hank's tense, nervous breathing. And of the voices of the police 
and her husband below she was now only dimly aware. 

Daria shook her head in feeble muted protest as she felt Lucky's hand seize 
the hem of her skirt and tug it slowly upward. She strained her neck, 
looking back over her shoulder almost in disbelief as he exposed the ripely 
clenched half-moons of her panty-clad little ass. Then it was everything she 
could do to keep from screaming as he seized the waistband at the top of her 
panties and pulled them right down over the clenching, tightly pliant 
rounds. 

Oh God, she thought, it was too terrible to believe. Here she was in this 
dark dingy attic lying on the floor between these two armed and desperate 
prison escapees whose crimes she still hadn't dared ask. One of them held a 
gun to her head and the other had his hand on her ass and if she made the 
slightest sound it would cost three or four people their lives. 

Helplessly Daria tried to clench her hips in defense. But even that was of 
no avail. A little shudder of shame and humiliation coursed over her prone 
and half-naked body as Lucky left the panties clutching midway down to her 
knees and drew his fingers back up along the sensitive skin of her inner 
thighs, forcing his middle finger down between them to stroke the straining 
tendons, drawing gradually higher and higher until she jerked slightly from 
the sudden contact of the finger right on the tingling slit of her cunt. 

"Car down the road there," one of the state-troopers was saying. "Know 
anything about that?" 

"That's uh ... that's mine. The Chevrolet?" 

"Yeah. Trouble ... ?" 

Daria could have almost died of shame as she felt Lucky's finger slip easily 
between the already lewdly moistened lips of her cunt. Her fear and her 
helplessness in this disgraceful situation seemed to have instilled some 
perverse masochistic reflex in her body. Her vaginal lips were completely 
lubricated, as if they'd been waiting for his caress, and she held her 
breath as she felt his long, distended middle finger worm its way slowly 
upward, parting the pinkly yielding folds of flesh to probe straight up into 
her sensitive and tender little cunt. 

She bit her lip, tears welling to her eyes at the smile that spread across 
the convict's lips. Another shiver coursed up her spine as he wiggled his 
finger deep up in the tight warm crevice of her loins, and she could have 
almost gone out of her mind from the sheer unwelcome delight of it all as he 
flicked his thumb up beneath her body to tweak suddenly over the lust 
inflamed head of her wantonly dilated clitoris. 

Oh, God, Daria whispered silently in her mind. It was all so crazy, at once 
so good and terrible she couldn't believe it was even real. All the 
frustration and all the lust that had remained with her after her 
un-fulfilling defloration last night at the hands of her over eager husband 
seemed to have been brought rudely back to the surface. She could feel the 
flutters of maddening excitement spiraling out of control through her 
desire-tortured loins. She was still afraid for her life, yet even her fear 
took second place to the maddening lust coursing through her body. Lucky was 
finger-fucking swiftly now, drawing the deeply protruding digit in long 
teasing strokes in and out of the clutching elastic hole of flesh, his thumb 
tweaking with nerve-shattering effect over the twitching little clitoral bud 
nestled at the top of the quivering hair-lined slip. 

"Haven't seen any ... strangers snoopin' around?" one of the cops was 
asking. 

"No. No, been here ... all alone. Just sort of ... getting drunk and talking 
to myself." 

"Well. Guess that's all then. I'd get that car off the road as soon as I 
could. Ain't no place to leave a good lookin' vehicle like that. Out here'n 
this desert, somebody'll strip it before you can say Jack Sprat." 

Up in the attic Daria at first didn't even grasp what was happening. She was 
vaguely conscious of John bidding goodbye to the policeman, of the door 
opening and closing as the men ventured back out into the storm. She was 
aware of Hank sighing and lowering the pistol from her head, of Lucky 
leaning forward and kissing her now almost tenderly on the lips as his hand 
began an even more rapid ravishment of her now open-splayed and surrendered 
loins from behind. She gritted her teeth, her head flailing from side to 
side in insincere protest as she relished the first anticipatory spasms of 
her lustfully aroused little swollen clitoris. Unconsciously she began to 
strain for her release as she felt the increasing tremors of excitement 
surging relentlessly through her belly and loins. She made a low 
half-conscious whimpering sound, gripped by the delirium of the promise 
surging all through her cock-hungry vaginal flesh. 

Then gradually it began, just a fluttering, a little series of mild but 
pleasing spasms deep up in her loins, a seeming lightening of her whole 
body, as if she were floating, a blanking of her mind, a lifting as the 
little waves of wanton ecstasy coursed over her. 

Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun it was over. A low sigh heaved from 
her throat and she blinked as Lucky gave a couple of last deep thrusts up 
into her cunt and withdrew his finger with a pop. He straightened up, 
looking down at her in triumph as she lay dazed and disoriented on the attic 
floor. 

"Now you like that, baby. Don't tell me you didn't." 

"Oh my God," Daria said in a sob. "Oh ... Oh ... go to hell, would you." 

She jerked her dress violently down over her ass-cheeks and tugged her 
panties up. Hank, his eyes gleaming with excitement, helped her to her feet. 
Downstairs John was calling: 

"Daria? They're gone. Daria? Hey, you guys. They're gone. Hey, what are you 
doing with my wife up there?" 

 Five 

Outside the storm still raged. It was getting late. Daria had no idea really 
what time it was. The sandwich platter, now almost clean, rested on the 
coffee table before the couch. Lucky sat drinking whisky in the rocking 
chair before the empty fireplace. Hank, still stone sober, was pacing back 
before the window. Daria sat in the easy chair. She'd pulled her feet up 
onto the cushion, planted flat on it so her knees stuck up before her 
breasts and she could rest her forearm across them and rest her chin on her 
forearm. Across the room, his eyes glazed from alcohol, John sat on the 
couch, a drink in his hand. 

"Really a great honeymoon, huh honey?" he said with a pathetic little laugh. 
"You thought you were gonna have one man and instead you got three." 

He drank, paused and laughed and drank again. Daria remembered leaving the 
attic on wobbly legs. The two convicts went down first. John was waiting 
with them at the bottom of the ladder, staring up at her, staring up her 
skirt as if he could see what had just happened to her. And she was still 
trembling in post-orgasmic shame and delight, her mind reeling with the 
lurid visions of what had just happened. It was so awful she didn't know if 
she would ever be able to look at herself in the mirror again. And yet it 
had felt so good, so good ... 

"Hey Lucky!" John said drunkenly. "Look at my wife's cunt. That's it, the 
sort of brown hairy thing you can see through her panties. Hey, open wider 
honey, your legs." 

Daria dropped her feet angrily down the floor and smoothed her skirt down 
her thighs. She noticed Hank was staring at her, intent, fascinated. His 
voice echoed in her ears from earlier in the afternoon. "Been over seven 
years since I been in an air conditioned room ... " And it had been over 
seven years, then, since ... He turned suddenly away, resumed his pacing. He 
paced back and forth across the room several times, then abruptly walked out 
the door and away down the hall. 

"Yesterday afternoon she was still a virgin," John was saying in his slurred 
drunken voice. "Now I bet you don't believe that. But it's the truth. We've 
been going together for a whole year, and she saved it. We saved it, 
together, the two of us. I saved it too, I mean, I cooperated ... ." 

"Oh can it, John," Daria said tiredly. She got up suddenly, feeling the eyes 
of both men on her trim shapely body as she walked toward the door. 

"Regular gangster's moll, isn't that right Lucky? Guess you know more about 
that than I do. Hey, what were you guys doing with her up there while I was 
down here talking those troopers off you're trail? You know how I know that? 
I bet you don't. I could smell it, that's how. Yeah, I could smell it and I 
could see it in her eyes! So come on, old buddy. Let's have the story, the 
whole dirty joke, hunh?" 

His voice faded away as Daria walked down the hall. Just as she started 
through the door to the kitchen she heard Lucky interrupt him: "Come on, 
friend. Have another drink ... " 

Hank stood at the oven, heating water for a cup of coffee. He started, 
whirling at the sound of her footsteps, then saw her and smiled. "I'm 
jumpy." 

"Yes." Daria smiled also. "I would be too if I were you. I'm jumpy myself, 
and I'm not even on the run." He didn't seem to be listening. He was staring 
at her body, like he'd never seen a woman's body before, that same way he'd 
been staring when he first saw her that afternoon. She was standing two feet 
away from him. She almost thought she could feel his eyes burning into her 
breasts, right through the cups of her bra. She could hear his low hoarse 
breathing. She felt she should turn and run from him, or something, but for 
some reason she couldn't seem to move. 

"You beautiful ... " he said in a cracked voice. Kind of broken, cave man 
English, she was thinking. "All these years I ... " 

He didn't finish the sentence. 

"Hank ... " 

"You ... " 

"Hank ... " She shook her head. She managed a little laugh and backed a pace 
away. "Tell me ... tell me about Lucky." 

He heaved out a sigh and turned away to check the water for the coffee, then 
turned slowly back. "Lucky's all right." 

"I guess ... I guess you saw what happened up there. You must think I'm some 
kind of whore. I don't know. It just happened. And now John, in there. He's 
acting like such an ... an asshole. Tell me about Lucky. Why was he ... in 
prison." 

"He just got in a little trouble ... a while back. Long time ago." 

"Yes, but what did he do?" 

"Aw, that's all past now," Hank said and occupied himself with the making of 
his coffee. "Want some?" 

"No thanks," said Daria. She turned to the sink and stared out the window 
into the black of the night-raging storm. Then she started as she felt the 
hand touch her arm. When she turned he was staring at her the same way he 
had before, now standing even closer, his breath coming in hoarse guttural 
pants from deep in his throat. "Hank, no," she said flatly. "No, please. 
Don't look at me like that." 

"You dunno what it's like," he said. "All that time ... all those years. I 
just ... I just want to touch you ... to see ... " 

His hands came up and covered over the soft firm swell of one of her proudly 
upstanding breasts, squeezing and massaging it as though more with 
fascination than lust, testing it's gentle pliancy and firmness, the 
pressure of his palm on her nipple causing the little bud to swell to 
tingling rigidity within the confines of her bra. 

Her whole body trembling with an eerie, but hardly sexual excitement, Daria 
stood her ground and allowed the desperate little man to feel her breasts. 
She could see the hunger in his eyes, and through her own mind's eye raced a 
flood of almost surreal images of prison life, short film clips from movies 
she'd seen, incidents she'd read now visualized in stark grotesquerie, 
sordid hallucinations of loneliness and despair. And somehow she couldn't 
bring herself to stop him. Though she thought she could have died from it 
all she didn't have in her heart the cruelty to deny what it seemed to be 
costing her so little to give. 

She let him pull the sweater up from her skirt. She shuddered as his hands 
slipped beneath it, moving up the rib-outlined side of her slender torso up 
beneath her arm, slipping into the bra cup from the side to cup over her 
breast and find the already tautly swollen tip of her nipple. Then he pushed 
the constricting cup up and off the tautly swollen mound, shoving the 
sweater also up with a lifting of his arm so her tight high set breast was 
completely visible to his gaze, the pink wide-corona nipple almost visibly 
pulsing in simple physical response to the contact of his hand upon it. He 
groaned, lunging suddenly forward to plant his lips right over the hard 
throbbing little bud, at the same time seizing one of her wrists and jerking 
her hand forcibly down to the crotch of his trousers, pressing it full over 
the almost mind-bogglingly enormous bulge of his fully erected cock. 

"Ooooouuuuu!" Daria whimpered from the sheer raw sensation as the escaped 
convict sucked and nibbled at her nakedly exposed breast, grinding his 
pelvis in a series of rapidly jerking motions as he held her hand pressed 
forcibly to the hard shaft of his sperm laden cock looming up inside his 
white, prison-issue trousers. Then suddenly she heard him groan, bitting 
down even harder on her tortured little nipple. Then the groan was followed 
by a low sigh. He let her breast and her now urgently tingling nipple slip 
lightly from his lips. He released her hand and let it fall away from his 
crotch, stepping back and staring shamefully down at the floor before at 
last he seemed to get the courage to raise his sheepish eyes to her. 

"Aw hell, Miss," he said with obvious embarrassment. "Boy, I'm like a kid or 
something." 

Daria smiled in spite of her strained breathing. Self-consciously she tugged 
the bra-cup back down over her exposed breast, pulled her sweater back down 
over her breasts and belly and tucked it into her skirt. She felt flushed, 
her nerves raw and on edge. The convict was still standing very close to 
her, still blushing like an embarrassed adolescent. And yet there was an 
expression of contentment, even triumph on his mug-shot face, and though she 
knew she should be ashamed, she felt a perverse and almost motherly pleasure 
at the knowledge of the pleasure she'd given him, still at such little cost 
to herself. Then, suddenly she leaned forward and kissed him soft on the 
cheek, turned and walked quickly out of the room and down the hall. 

"Where's my wife?" she heard John's drunken voice say from the den. "Where 
is that beautiful whore?" 

"She ain't gone far," said Lucky. "Here, lemme fill your glass." 

She paused for a moment, then tiptoed slowly forward, listening to their 
almost chummy chatter. 

"Thank you," John said. "Even for a jailbird you are a gentleman and a 
scholar. Now let's drink to something. What do you want to drink to?" 

"We'll drink to you," Lucky said drily. 

"Yes, fine. Here's to me. Bottoms up." 

She reached the door and stopped, stood framed in it gazing into the room. 
The two men were standing up, John weaving on his feet, Lucky steady as a 
tree, watching him almost without expression. They held up their glasses and 
drank, Lucky taking only a sip, John draining his own to the bottom. Her 
husband turned shakily and hurled the glass, shattering it in the fireplace. 
Then he turned again, looked at her, smiled a silly drunken smile and said: 

"Well, my blushing bride. Come dear, I think we should find a bedroom and do 
a little of the old in and out." 

She looked at Lucky, briefly met his smoldering, knowing gaze. He was 
reaching to the liquor cabinet for another glass. Then, looking again at 
John, he moved away from the cabinet. John teetered. An idiot's grin came 
over his lips. His eyes went blank, rolling back so she could see nothing 
but the whites. Daria gave out with a warning gasp as she realized what was 
going to happen. Lucky caught him just before he would have hit the floor on 
his back. 

 Six 

As Daria watched with dreadful fascination, the muscular convict hoisted her 
husband over his shoulder and carried him out of the room. Her own body was 
still tingling with excitement from the bizarrely titillating incident that 
had just taken place between her and the other con, and the knowing look 
that had been exchanged between her and Lucky just before John had passed 
out left her trembling with a kind of resigned excitement. She knew that 
he'd intentionally gotten John drunk with this in mind. Yet in a way that 
could be taken as a sign of kindness in his nature. He didn't have to do it 
this way. He could just take her if he wanted to. He could have taken her 
upstairs earlier after he'd finger fucked her to a swift and rousing climax. 
There wasn't a thing she could have done or would have wanted to do to stop 
him. 

Hoping to calm her own shattered nerves, Daria walked over to the liquor 
cabinet and poured herself a stiff shot of gin. She diluted it with cold 
water from the melted ice, drank half of it down and paused, staring 
pensively at the dark window. Then her gaze shifted slightly, her eyes 
widening slowly as the shotgun, leaning against the wall, seemed to 
materialize gradually into her view. It seemed at first as if she were only 
seeing things, and she blinked, half expecting that it would go away. But 
when she looked again it was still there, waiting, loaded and deadly, hers 
for the taking. 

Daria didn't even know how long it was that she stood there, immobilized, 
staring at the gun. Through her mind raced a jumble of conflicting images. 
She was aware that this should be her and John's moment of deliverance, and 
yet she could not think of it that way. She felt as though she were merely 
being offered a chance she didn't want; a chance to escape that held no 
appeal. She knew that she should feel honor bound to take it, as a citizen 
and as a wife. But she knew equally well that, short of actually using it 
and killing the two convicts who'd made her and John their prisoner, there 
really wasn't anything she could do with the shotgun. They weren't going to 
allow her to turn them in. Her husband was passed out, and no help. And she 
couldn't stand guard over them all night alone. 

"Tempting, ain't it?" 

Daria's body jerked at the sound of Lucky's voice behind her. She looked 
again briefly at the shotgun, then half-turned to look at him, standing in 
the door drawing lazily on a cigarette. 

"Go ahead," he said with a grin. "If you want to." 

Daria's heart was pounding frantically in her breasts and her indignation at 
the way he was mocking her was almost more than she could stand. He was 
daring her to go for the gun, offering it to her because from the door there 
was no way he could beat her to it. But she didn't have the nerve, and he 
knew it. 

"I ... I'm not against you and Hank," she said in a quivering voice. 

"I know," Lucky drawled. "And I have known it from the first time I held you 
in my arms and kissed your lovely little lips." 

"I didn't mean it that way," Daria snapped, her face flushing red. "I just 
meant that I don't want to see you go back to prison. I don't know what you 
did but I sense from ... from both of you ... that you're not bad people. 
And I for one am certainly not in favor of the prison system in this country 
today or of the ... " He was just smiling at her in ridicule, and she 
realized her tirade must sound completely ridiculous to him. There was no 
use going on, and she tried to compose herself and inject a little formality 
into her voice before she added: "Now, where did you put my husband?" 

"I dumped in on the bed in that back bedroom. He's all right. I even took 
his shoes off so he could sleep more comfortable." 

"That's very kind of you. Now I think I'll go join him as well. I'm tired 
and it's ... it's, to say the least, been a busy day." 

"Yeah," Lucky agreed. "And it's not over yet." 

He took the cigarette from his lips and tossed it to the floor. He stomped 
it out with his foot and as Daria waited, trembling with fear and 
anticipation, he came walking slowly forward. 

Daria almost melted beneath the convict's leering gaze as he approached. 
Then he was upon her, his arms around her pulling her body forcibly against 
his own, his mouth again covering hard over his lips, his tongue slipping in 
between her teeth to slither deep into her mouth as his hands dropped to the 
clenched half-moons of her buttocks to jerk her loins almost violently 
against his own. 

The defenselessly excited brunette gave out with a muffled groan as she felt 
the surging of his cock erection, that tented the convict's trousers pushing 
right up the sensitive softness of her own inner thighs. His hands had again 
worked the short miniskirt far up off her hips and the thinly haired mound 
of her pubis was protected by nothing but the flimsy silken crotch-band of 
her panties. She could feel the prodding hardness right on the 
fear-moistened lips of her cunt and the friction against the warmly 
responding flesh was almost driving her out of her mind. She felt completely 
helpless, almost without a will to resist after everything else that had 
already happened to her today, and even as she squirmed in feeble and 
half-hearted protest she was sucking his tongue even deeper and more eagerly 
into her opened panting mouth. 

"Emmmmmmmnn," Daria moaned in spite of herself as she felt Lucky's fingers 
stabbing viciously into the panty-clad cheeks of her ass. She could feel the 
strength and masculinity that seemed to exude from his work-hardened body, 
and the thought that she was probably the first woman this strong and 
red-blooded young male had touched in years only increased the perverse 
thrills cursing through her loins. She knew what she was doing was wrong. 
She knew she was cheapening herself by responding to the embrace of another 
man only two days after her marriage, and she knew that her harsh judgment 
of John, her refusal to stand by him solidly in this time of difficulty and 
danger, only made what she was doing all the more sinful. But now in spite 
of that knowledge she couldn't bring herself to think of her husband in a 
light any kinder than apathy or pity. And the exciting contrast of being 
taken by this hulking animal brute seemed more than her newly awakened flesh 
could resist. 

A ravishing shock of delight danced along Daria's spine as Lucky tugged her 
sweater out of her skirt and ran one of his hands up beneath it to press 
over the firmness of her bra-encumbered breast, continuing to claw and maul 
at the silk covered cheeks of her ass with the other. She was still feebly 
struggling, conscious there was no hope that she would be able to free 
herself from his powerful embrace. Her mouth was open wide, his tongue still 
searching deep between her lips, and she could only shudder as though in 
acquiescence as he moved his hand lower down off her buttocks to work his 
fingers up between her thighs from behind and began to stroke back and forth 
along the hair-lined lips of her pussy from the outside of the already 
wetly-moistened crotchband of her panties. 

Then at last with a desperate effort Daria managed to pull her lips away 
from his, drawing back from his face slightly and gasping to catch her 
breath. But he still held her firmly in his grasp, the one hand up beneath 
her sweater mauling and pawing urgently at the lust-swollen mounds of her 
breasts, pushing the brassiere cups up and off them to completely free the 
luscious spheres of flesh to his groping exploration. His other hand was 
still pressed far up between her thighs from behind, his fingers tugging the 
crotchband of her panties aside to stroke eagerly through the sensitive 
upstanding curls of wet pubic hair. 

"Oh please," Daria moaned, shaking her head. "I'm a married woman, Lucky. 
This is supposed to be my honeymoon." 

"Hell I don't care," Lucky grunted, an animalistic grin contorting his 
handsome face. 

Then an even more violent shudder racked Daria's body as his finger made 
sudden delicious contact with the throbbing little tip of her clitoris, 
tweaking rapidly over the pulsing little bud as she continued her 
half-hearted efforts to free herself from his grasp. He continued to work at 
the little digit until it had swollen to fully pulsing rigidity, then slowly 
he dragged his fingers back along the lust-dilated lips of her cunt. Then, 
without a warning, he reached his other hand beneath her arm and in a sudden 
deft motion undid the snap of her brassiere, at the same time working his 
finger out of the clinging panty-crotchband to leave her gasping from the 
sudden absence of the titillating sensation she'd derived. 

Then, before Daria had quite had time to grasp what was happening, he seized 
the tail of her sweater and pulled it swiftly upward. It seemed that in some 
congenital reflex she raised her arms straight above her head and he lifted 
the sweater off and tossed it away, leaving her almost naked from the waist 
up, her blonde hair tosseled into disarray, her bra hanging precariously off 
the high-arched swells of her swollen breasts, her eyes looking wild and 
shocked and filled with lust as she watched him reach up to push the bra 
straps off her shoulders. Then the little garment fell to the floor, leaving 
nothing but her low-hanging panties and the short miniskirt bunched in 
relative uselessness at her waist. 

Lucky sucked his breath in hoarsely, taking a step back away from her as 
though to better survey a painting or some other work of art. For a moment 
he was silent, his eyes roving intently over her soft gold-tanned curves of 
flesh, his mouth hanging almost slack as he breathed in hoarse guttural 
groans. Then at last he spoke: 

"I'll be gaddamn! I guess I really forgot. I was beginning to think I never 
would see anything like this again." 

Daria waited, trembling before his hungrily devouring gaze. She was equally 
conscious of her nakedness and vulnerability, and that awareness only 
intensified the urgency of her breathing and the pounding of her heart. She 
felt as she never had in her life like a piece of flesh, a sex object to be 
used and cast away. She knew she wouldn't resist, knew resistance was 
useless. Lucky was an escaped fugitive, fleeing for his life. She knew from 
his threat about using the shotgun earlier tonight when the police had 
stopped at the house that he was really desperate. He wasn't going to be 
taken alive. That he had made very clear to both her and John. And with that 
understanding she had to face the fact that he had faced the reality of the 
possibility of his imminent death. And knowing he might die anytime, he 
wasn't going to pass up such a tasty morsel from life as he was faced with 
now. And the fact that she was being forced to commit adultery on only the 
second night of her marriage was a coincidence nothing more. It would have 
happened anytime she'd found herself in this situation with a man like him. 
It would have been inevitable even if she'd still been a virgin. 

Then another excited little shiver coursed up her spine as Lucky reached 
down to the side of her skirt and undid the snap and drew the zipper slowly 
down. The little garment dropped several inches, caught for a precarious 
moment on the flare of her ass, then fell away and dropped down her long 
slender thighs to come to rest on the floor at her feet. Automatically she 
stepped out of them. Then her eyes narrowed as he stepped back and kissed 
her hungrily on the lips, crushing her near-naked body in his strong arms, 
the bulging meaty erection of his cock in his trousers grinding hard against 
her panty-covered cunt before he raised his hands up to her shoulders to 
push her firmly downward toward the floor. 

A little moan of submission rose in Daria's throat as she sank down to her 
knees before the powerfully muscled convict. He'd already untied his brogan 
work shoes and it was a simple matter for him to kick them off. Then her 
eyes widened with shock, as he undid his trousers and pulled them suddenly 
downward to free the lust-hardened shaft of his almost outrageously enormous 
cock. My God, it was enormous, pulsing purplish with the foreskin pulled 
back to reveal the angry blood-filled head. It was almost twice the size of 
John's and her tender little vagina was still sore from her defloration just 
the night before. She could never take that inside her. It would rip her 
apart. It would be even worse than the initial rupture of her hymen by her 
more normally endowed husband. 

"Oh no," Daria said in a whisper, shaking her head in feeble protest as 
Lucky dropped down to the floor before her. The lust in his eyes looking at 
her almost naked body was like nothing she'd ever seen in her life. His 
penis was looming up from his thickly crotch like a menacing sharpened 
sword, and she could feel a desperate flutter of fright as she reminded 
herself that after everything he must have endured during the years of his 
imprisonment her feeble protests would seem a matter of relative triviality. 
She knew there would be no escape, and she knew by that her actions since 
she and her husband had found themselves prisoners of these two sexually 
deprived fugitives she deserved everything she was going to get. 

Then again his hands were upon her, cupping hard over the proudly upstanding 
swells of her breasts, his fingers tweaking and squeezing the already 
hard-swollen buds of her nipples until she almost cried out. She sat nearly 
motionless, making no move to resist, staring down through glazed eyes at 
the mauling of the near stranger's calloused hands over the soft supple 
flesh of her naked torso. 

"Ooooouuuuuuuuu," Daria moaned in spite of herself as he took one of her 
rigid nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it teasingly between 
the two digits to prompt it to distend even more distinctly out from the 
vibrantly rounded mound of her naked breast. Then his hands cupped back over 
the two nipple peaked swells, crushing them against her slender rib cage 
before slipping beneath her arms to push her forcibly backward. 

Shaking her head in feeble and futile objection, Daria sank down without 
resistance into a reclining position on the floor. Her eyes were now opened 
wide, glazed, her lips slightly parted and jaw slack as she watched Lucky 
survey her prone and trembling form. Then she shuddered slightly as his 
hands moved lower down over the smooth plane of her stomach to seize the 
tight elastic waistband of her white silken panties and draw them slowly 
down off the forbidden triangle of the hair of her cunt. She automatically 
arched her buttocks up to facilitate their removal. Then he peeled the 
little garment down her long slender thighs and calves, and tossed them away 
to leave her completely naked before his leering gaze. 

"Oh God help me," Daria prayed in silent mental entreaty as the convict's 
hands trailed over the tender flesh of her pelvis, venturing almost 
cautiously into the soft curls of cunt-hair between her thighs. She could 
see a dazed look in his eyes, not the worship she'd seen in John's eyes the 
night before when he'd first gazed upon her naked body, but something else, 
more intense, profound. He was looking at her as a possession, as though a 
spoil of battle, a prize to be taken and exploited. 

Daria's whole naked body was tightened with fear and lust as Lucky reclined 
forward, planting his knees between her thighs and forcing them out wide 
apart to give her even greater access to her fur-lined little pussy orifice. 
In spite of all her fear and shame she derived a certain secret enjoyment 
from the very hopelessness of her situation, and as he dropped forward on 
top of her she closed her eyes, reaching up with her hands to explore with 
wonder over the rippling muscles of his torso, savoring the strong male 
smell of his body, her lips opening willingly to his tongue as he kissed her 
again hard on the mouth. 

"Oooooooooooh," the prone and naked blonde moaned into Lucky's mouth as she 
felt the length of his hard male cock prodding up higher between her thighs 
until the tip of it was poised but inches away from the softly-haired 
pouting lips of her pussy. She sighed with forbidden delight, squirming even 
more tightly against the hotly breathing male until the lust-bloated head of 
his gigantic penis was twitching right against the passion-wetted little 
orifice of her still near virgin-tight cunt. She still couldn't face the 
thought of actually taking him inside her, but now in the sheer physical 
delight of his strong body and his strong authoritarian will she'd 
temporarily suspended the consciousness of that gnawing fear in the back of 
her mind. And somehow the fear seemed to only increase the delirious lust 
surging through her loins and breasts as she felt his hand stroke straight 
up along her moistened pussy slit to find sudden shattering contact with the 
lewdly erected little bud of her clitoris nestled so invitingly at the top. 

Daria knew she would probably never forgive herself for her salacious 
action, but the things that were happening to her body now were completely 
beyond her comprehension and control and she began to swivel her hips up and 
down from the floor in a prematurely abandoned fucking motion as Lucky's 
fingers parted the passion-drenched folds of her vagina. She wriggled 
downward on the floor onto the lust-hardened cock-head lurched suddenly into 
shocking pressure with the flushed entrance of her cunt, and as she squirmed 
her buttocks down into the carpet in automatic retreat from the frightening 
sensation Lucky craned his neck and bent down to take one of her tingling 
nipples hungrily into his mouth. 

"Yesssssssssss," Daria moaned in shameless surrender to the further 
maddening sensations racing through her loins and belly, and she opened her 
eyes wide and peered downward to watch Lucky's tongue swipe eagerly over the 
rigidly swelling little nipple. He sucked hungrily, switching from one 
breast to the other, rubbing his face into the voluptuously deep valley of 
her cleavage between them. Then abruptly he raised up, staring at her with 
almost animal excitement, gasping to catch his breath as he reached down 
between their bodies and seized the enormous thick hardness of his cock, 
guiding it again up toward her helplessly open-splayed cunt. 

"Easy!" Daria gasped, her body stiffening beneath him as she felt a sudden 
even sharper pressure against the sensitive hair-lined lips. "Oh! Oh, it's 
too big!" 

Daria just glimpsed the slight smirk that crossed Lucky's face at that 
flattering remark, then she was almost blinded by the sheer raw sensation as 
he surged forward even harder, withdrawing his hand from between their 
bodies and seizing her tightly by the wrists as she started to struggle 
against the enormous and almost unbearable invasion of her tender little 
cunt. 

"Aaaaaaagggghhhhhhh!" Daria cried as the convict's thick bulbous cock-head 
wedged itself up between her tightly resisting hair-lined pussy lips. "Oh my 
God, Lucky. It is too big. I can't take it. Let me go!" 

But there was no escape and in spite of all her struggles the straining 
cock-shaft skewered its way slowly up into her tightly clasping inner 
vaginal tightness, its force and power pushing aside all her resistance, 
spreading and parting her lust-seared inner cuntal walls until she thought 
she would pass out from the ceaselessly burning sensation. It seemed to tear 
into her forever, filling her beyond belief as she quivered and shuddered 
helplessly beneath him. Then she let out a low hoarse sigh as she at last 
felt the bloated rubbery tip lodge itself hard against her cervix and 
Lucky's lust-weighted balls bounced heavily down between the clenching 
cheeks of her ass. 

"Oh God," she moaned, hardly able to believe she hadn't lost consciousness 
during the excruciating ordeal but relieved at least that the initial 
penetration was ended. Her sultry lips were loose and panting and her eyes 
were open wide. Her thighs scissored slowly open and closed on Lucky's 
tensed flanks. Otherwise she lay completely motionless, afraid to even move 
in her fear of the hotly piercing shaft of flesh embedded to the depths of 
her cunt like a sword into a sheath, and she could only pray that the 
convict would give her elastic vaginal muscles time to adjust to the lewd 
intrusion into her loins. But she could feel the excited trembling of his 
body above her, see the look of lust and triumph and seeming near disbelief 
in his wild crazy eyes, and she knew she could expect little mercy. 

Then suddenly, as though in warning, he flexed his cock and it seemed to 
grow even large, stabbing even deeper up in her loins to cause a little 
spasm to shake her whole naked body. He grinned as she gritted her teeth 
from the sharp stabbing sensation, then suddenly flicked his hips forward to 
grind his pubic mound hard against her tingling clitoris and plunge the 
heated shaft of his cock even harder against the sensitive little nub of her 
cervix. 

"Ooooooooh!" Daria whimpered, flailing her head gently from side to side on 
the floor to whip her long blonde hair softly over her naked shoulders. She 
sucked her breath in with a low hissing sound as he slowly withdrew, pulling 
the length of his cock almost all the way out of the clasping sheath of her 
cunt until just the head was I buried between the tight elastic hair-lined 
lips. Then she gasped as he lunged forward again to surge slowly back up 
into her quivering cuntal tightness, the force of the surging penetration 
sweeping aside all her renewed, though fainter resistance. Her whole body 
jerked as his pubis mashed hard against the soft-haired mound of her cunt 
and once more she was skewered to the hilt. Then he kissed her again on the 
lips, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth as he began a steady hunching 
rhythm, sweat beading on his muscled chest and her own hard-crushed breasts 
as his rigidly erected cock-shaft pistoned again and again into the 
coral-hued slit of her cunt. 

"God, God!" Daria moaned, her eyes goggling as she tried to accustom herself 
to the obscene and unnatural intrusion. Her nakedly rounded breasts joggled 
from the jerkings of her lust-racked body and she groaned in lecherous 
submission, thrusting her pelvis up in a wanton squirming motion as she 
began to match his hard-driving thrusts, grinding her pubis eagerly against 
his in urgent stimulation of her twitching little clitoris. 

Now Daria's nakedly writhing body was aflame with unprecedented fiery 
sensation. She felt as if she were sinking forever into a nether-world of 
perverted pleasure. She knew she was betraying the vows and faith of her 
marriage, that she was betraying all the moral stamina and conviction that 
had enabled her to go just yesterday a virgin to her marriage bed, but she 
almost seemed to relish her wrong-doing and the deliciously frenzied 
movements of Lucky's cock driving ever more swiftly in and out of her loins 
provoked in her something she had not even glimpsed last night when she'd 
given herself to her husband. 

Now Lucky was really letting himself go. His hands were mauling ruthlessly 
over Daria's squirming naked body, his hard driving lunges racking her with 
their violence and force. She felt like she was being raped by a wild 
animal, being taken cruelly and by force. This was really fucking, 
completely unleashed animal fury, and the sheer intensity of his assault was 
having a psychological impact that only increased and intensified her 
physical receptivity. The hand-inflicted orgasm he'd given her earlier when 
he'd taken advantage of her in the attic had served as further preparation, 
and her eyelids fluttered as she twitched and hunched beneath him, she was 
totally lost in the intensity of her want and the promise of her release, 
excitement ever mounting as she clenched his massive cock into the most 
sensitive recesses of her dilated inner pussy tightness. 

Then suddenly Lucky moved into a series of longer and more swiftly plunging 
strokes, ramming his hard shaft of cock-flesh again and again to the hilt 
into the virginal blonde's undulating loins. His balls were slapping into 
the crack of her ass against her sensitively puckered little anus, this 
added weird sensation only causing her to thrash even more rapidly beneath 
him. They were both building now toward the end, the wet flat smack of his 
loins against her pelvis echoing and resounding through the room as he 
craned his neck to again take one of her erectly throbbing little nipples 
into his mouth, nibbling and biting at the little bud to prompt further 
whimpers of longing and submission to rise to her lips. 

Then suddenly his cock flexed and pulsed even larger and harder up into her 
loins. The lust-swollen head seemed to flare and grow until she feared it 
would tear all the way up into her belly. She threw her arms tightly around 
his laboring, sweating back, hugging him tightly to her as she felt the 
energy surging between their bodies like an electric current, filling her, 
charging her, pushing her almost beyond the brink of delirium as his lunging 
thrusts built to a crescendo and she felt the first awe-inspiring waves of 
her own long awaited climax surging through her body with volcanic, mind 
boggling fury. 

"Oh God yes!" Daria cried out in final submission, dropping her hands down 
to grasp the convict's churning buttocks and pull him even tighter to her. 
She arched her loins up in a violent bucking motion grinding her impaled 
cunt in luxuriating little circles, spiraling it frenziedly up and down the 
hotly burrowing penis as she felt the waves of ecstasy and delight go 
coursing out frenziedly over her ravished flesh. 

Daria's body quivered completely out of control. The rosy hue of her face 
brightened and dampened and her whimpers rose to urgent piercing cries as 
the fluids of her vagina flowed freely forth to mingle with the hot thick 
drops of male semen pumping in a furious torrent into her loins. 

"Oh yes, God yes!" she cried out, unable to hold herself back any longer. 
"I'm cumming. Oh my God, I'mmmm cuummmiinnnnnggg!" 

Lucky jammed his pumping cock all the way to the hilt into Daria's hotly 
contracting vagina, his sperm erupting in deep cannon like droplets that 
flooded deep into her womb. He continued to fuck into her until every ounce 
of his seed was spent, until she'd already sank in motionless repose beneath 
him on the floor. Then he sighed out his breath and sagged heavily down upon 
her. Beneath him Daria purred like a grateful satisfied kitten. 

 Seven 

When Daria awoke the next morning the storm had passed. She lay on the bed 
beneath a light blanket in the back bedroom where Lucky had carried John 
after he'd passed out the night before. She was wearing her skirt and 
sweater, without her brassiere. She was alone now; John had already arisen 
and left the room. 

For what must have been several minutes Daria lay still on her side, staring 
out the window at the endless sunlit expanse of the land. Now there was 
silence, stillness; it was as if the storm had been only a bad dream. 

Then the other dream-like memory crept slowly and insidiously into her 
consciousness. She stiffened, a little gasp rising in her throat, her 
beautiful sultry face contorting slightly at the lascivious vision that 
suddenly gripped her shame-tortured mind. And that was no dream either. 
Though she found it almost too horrible for belief, she knew that it was 
real. It was real as the storm, but unlike the storm it would not have left 
without a trace. The scars remained. She sensed them immediately, the 
emotional scar she thought would never quite completely heal, and the 
physical scars on her slightly bruised, aching and exhausted body. 

Oh my God, she thought. What on earth could have come over me? She, who had 
guarded her chastity for so long, had been unfaithful to her husband on the 
second night of their marriage. She had given in freely to a man she didn't 
even know, a criminal on the run. And as much as she now wished she could 
justify what had happened by calling it rape, she knew that to do so would 
be distorting the truth. He hadn't raped her.. Perhaps he would have, if it 
had come to that. But it had not been necessary to use force. She'd given 
herself too freely. 

"It must have been the alcohol," Daria whispered, tossing the blanket off 
and sitting up in bed. "Yes. I was very drunk," she added, as though it were 
an entreaty to herself to believe her own remark. It was true, however. She 
had been very drunk, though with all the strain and tension she'd been 
through during the day she'd hardly realized how drunk she was. And what had 
taken place between her and the convict probably would not have taken place 
if it hadn't been for the alcohol. Or at least it would have happened in a 
much different way. But that was still no excuse. If it took nothing but a 
few glasses of gin to turn her into a nymphomaniacal whore then her state 
was a pitiful one indeed. 

A lump of remorse and shame welling in her throat, Daria stepped off the bed 
and stood up. She surveyed herself silently for a moment in the dresser 
mirror, surprised that no trace of last night's lascivious episode showed in 
her face. She would have thought that after everything she had done and 
after everything she'd allowed Lucky to do to her she would have been 
marked, like Cain had been marked after he killed his brother Abel. 

And yet, just the memory Lucky's hands roving over the soft naked curves of 
her body, his lips kissing and sucking at the sensitive nipples of her 
breasts, his gigantic cock ripping into her tender little cunt, inspired in 
her now a stirring excitement that couldn't be denied. Wicked and shameful 
as it was, it had been the most wonderful physical experience Daria had ever 
known in her life and she experienced a renewed fluttering in her loins and 
breasts that only served to further impress on her guilt-tortured mind the 
level of degradation to which she had sunk. And that was the worst part of 
all: Deep down inside she wasn't even sorry. 

Daria turned away from the mirror and walked slowly over to the window. She 
stood peering silently out, then slowly and quietly raised it. She tried the 
latch on the screen and opened it easily. She sighed, long and loud. She 
could just leave, right now. She could set out across the desert, parallel 
to the road. Then she could get back onto the highway and wait for a car to 
come by. She played with that thought for a few minutes, then re-latched the 
screen and turned away. She couldn't do it. She didn't want to. And though 
she tried to tell herself it was because she feared for John's safety if she 
left him here alone with the two fugitives, she knew the truth was something 
else. 

Daria walked away from the window, out the door and down the hall. She still 
didn't know how she was going to face John. She thought that though there 
was no physical mark on her face to attest to what she had done, he would 
sense it nonetheless. Nor did she relish the thought of having to see the 
two convicts again. Lucky, and to a lesser extent Hank, had used her like a 
cheap whore for the gratification of their basest carnal instincts. And even 
if John might be deluded by what had happened, they knew. They knew what she 
had done and they knew what she was. 

Her heart beating rapidly with her building nervousness, Daria continued 
slowly down the hall. As she neared the den she heard the television, a 
morning newscaster giving a summary of national events. As she reached the 
door he was introducing his colleague, who would give the news on a local 
level after the next important announcement. Daria paused just outside the 
door, took a deep breath, then stepped through and stopped again. 

Three men looked up at her at once. Hank, wearing a western shirt and a pair 
of khakis she presumed must belong to the owner of the house, sat on the 
couch, looking up at her with his eager eyes. John was beside him, staring 
at her icily. Lucky, still in his white prison pants, lounged in the easy 
chair. He glanced at her only briefly, nonchalantly, as if she were a 
possession he took for granted, and somehow that passing glance caused such 
anger and resentment to swell in Daria's breast that she could almost have 
spit at him. 

Then all attention was returned to the T.V. as the local newscaster began: 
"Authorities are still searching for two convicts who escaped Tuesday night 
from the Maximum Security Correctional Facility at Carlton. Believed to be 
armed and dangerous, the fugitives are suspected to be en route to Mexico." 
On the screen a grim mug shot of Hank appeared. "Hank Daily, serving five 
years to life for armed robbery, and Lucas McClain, serving ... " 

Hank's mug shot had just been replaced by Lucky's when the younger con 
suddenly bolted from his chair and flicked off the set, leaving a tense 
silence over the room. Lucky cast a brief knowing look at Hank, glanced at 
Daria and looked away. She stared at him, biting her lip. The silence 
reigned for but a few seconds, but is seemed like an eternity had gone by 
before John finally broke it: 

"Don't want us to hear about it, huh?" John asked in a bitter and sarcastic 
voice. "What'd you do? Strangle your grandmother? Pull armed robbery at a 
school for the blind? Molest a child?" 

"Shut up Buster." 

"Come on, tell us about." John looked at Daria. "You can persuade him honey. 
I know you can. You've got what it takes." 

"Lay off Buster." 

"She's my wife." 

"I don't give a goddamn," Lucky said, his hand tightening on the shotgun 
laying across his lap until the knuckles turned white. 

"You talk tough with that shotgun," John said. 

Lucky shook his head. "Shit. I don't need this shotgun." 

Daria watched her husband. He'd almost been smiling, but any trace of humor 
faded swiftly from his face. He knew it was true. What Daria couldn't 
understand was the twinge of secret pride she felt at having her "honor" 
defended by the man who'd so ruthlessly taken and exploited her young body 
the night before. 

"Hank fits pretty well in the clothes that belong to the guy who lives 
here," Lucky said. "We figure I can get by in Buster's." He looked at John. 
"Give her the keys." 

"Hunh?" John asked, now almost absently. 

"We'll let your wife go get the car." 

"Me?" Daria asked. 

"Yeah, you. And don't get any funny ideas. If you make a run for it or set 
the police on our tails, Buster here is going to be in bad trouble." 

Daria looked him in the eye for a moment. "I'm not going to run." 

"Well don't. Buster stays with us until we make the border. Without a car 
that'd take an awful long time. And if we get shot at ... Buster gets shot 
at too." 

"Can ... can I have some coffee before I go," Daria ventured. 

"No," Lucky said with finality. "The longer that car stays on the road the 
more likely somebody else's gonna start snoopin' around here. Besides, it's 
just gonna get hotter out there. You know how to drive, I guess." 

"Of course I know how to drive," Daria said defensively. 

"You'll have to take a water jug, and save most of it for the radiator. You 
know where to put it in?" 

"I know where the radiator is." 

"Why her?" John interrupted. "Why don't you send me? I'd attract less 
attention, if somebody comes by." 

Lucky looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Naw. 
She goes. You stay here." He looked at Daria. "If anybody stops, take a ride 
with 'em if they look all right. But don't bring 'em back here. You'll just 
be gettin' 'em into trouble." 

* * * 

The walk had taken almost an hour. She was passed by one truck, going the 
opposite direction, who had slowed almost to a stop and then sped up when 
she ignored him. Two cars loaded with vacationing families had passed going 
the same way as her. Neither of them had stopped, but she was just as glad 
that they hadn't. She didn't know how she would have reacted to human 
contact outside of the enclosed little world she'd lived in and somehow 
adjusted to during the last seventeen or eighteen hours. 

Daria finally reached the car, filled the radiator from the rubber container 
Hank had found in the garage. She started the engine, turned on the air 
conditioner, cleared the sand off the seat where she sat and pulled away. A 
few minutes later she pulled into the drive in front of the house, after 
entertaining briefly and again rejecting the alternative of escape. As she 
stopped the car and got out Hank and Lucky emerged from the house. 

"Any trouble?" Lucky asked, looking at the sand weathered car. 

"No. It's already hot though." 

"That figures." 

They met and paused at the side gate to the yard. Lucky stood looking 
thoughtfully down at her face, then said in a soft voice that sounded hardly 
like his own, "Thanks, kid. For coming back." 

They waited silently, facing each other, standing very close together. Lucky 
let the shotgun rest on the butt of the stock on the ground. He held it 
casually by the barrel. Looking past him she could see John staring angrily 
out the front screen. 

"I ... I'd better go in," she said. "I think I'll take a cold shower. I 
thought I was going to die in that heat." 

She moved abruptly away from him and went up to the front door of the house. 
John opened it, glaring as she came through. "Why did you come back?" he 
asked. "Why didn't you get the police?" 

"I ..." 

"You didn't even try to alert anybody we were here." 

"You h-heard what he said," Daria stammered. "It would have just endangered 
your life, or both our lives." 

A resentful grin twisted his lips. "But that wasn't the reason and you know 
it." 

"It was the reason," Daria whimpered, and didn't believe it herself. 

She started to move past him and he caught her bare arm, his fingers digging 
into her tender flesh. "You made it with him, didn't you?" 

Daria shook her head, bitting her lips. 

"Don't lie to me. Was it good? Hunh? Did he have a great big hard dick? I 
bet he's like a horse? Hunh? Tell your husband, whore." 

Daria jerked her arm suddenly away. "Yes, it was very good. It was better 
than you will ever be." 

Then, tears spilling from her eyes, she pushed past him, fled down the hall 
to the bath, opened the door and stepped in and locked it behind her. 

Sobbing with shame and rage and anger at her husband and herself, the 
supple-bodied young blonde quickly peeled her sweater up off her head before 
the lavatory mirror. Still bra-less, she stared at the flawlessly rounded 
up-thrust swells of her breasts, the nipples perking to rigidity from their 
contact with the air. She started to undo her skirt, then stiffened as she 
heard the hard banging on the door. 

"Hey, open the goddamn door," she heard John say. She waited, silent, 
holding her breath. "Open the door you goddamned whore." 

"No, John," Daria said in a cracked voice. "I want to be alone." 

For a moment he said nothing. Then she heard his deep sigh. "All right, have 
it your way. Stay alone." 

Daria listened to her husband's footsteps as he stalked away down the hall. 
Well, she thought. That must be the end of that. Certainly after what had 
happened he would want to get an annulment of their marriage. She wouldn't 
even blame him. Nor did she think now that she could ever be happy married 
to him. She couldn't imagine that she'd ever thought she loved him. She had 
liked him, perhaps. But she had never felt, looking at him, that magic she'd 
experienced yesterday afternoon when she'd first seen Lucky. She could only 
conclude that it had been her refusal to have sex, which she now felt would 
have been the natural consequence of a relationship between her and John or 
any man like John, that had led to her blowing her natural sexual 
inclinations up into something they were not. 

"Oh, I don't even know," Daria said aloud to herself. "I don't understand 
it. I just know it's happened." 

And it had happened. She was sure of it. She 'd fallen in love. For the 
first time in her life. 

Quickly Daria loosened the snap at the side of her skirt and worked it down 
off the flare of her hips. She dropped it to the floor and stepped out of 
it, then quickly peeled her panties down from the firmly molded half-moons 
of her ass and the inviting triangle of sparse brown hair between her 
thighs. Again she couldn't resist glancing at her naked body in the mirror, 
and her awareness of her lusty sexuality only served to recall even more 
vividly to her mind the delights of the night before. And it seemed that her 
appetite had only been whetted. She wanted more and more. Right now, she 
wanted everything. 

Daria started the water to run luke-warm in the shower hose, then stepped 
over the ledge of the bathtub and drew the plastic curtain, relishing the 
cool feel of it on her goosebumped shoulders and breasts. She let it pour 
into her face, running in rivulets down over the naked curves of her flesh, 
then took the soap and began to scrub gently over the sensuously rounded 
curves of her flesh. Then suddenly she stiffened, hearing a faint stirring 
sound at the door. She ducked her head through the curtain, staring out 
wide-eyed. There was a soft clicking, then the handle turned and it opened. 

Daria gasped as Lucky stepped through, staring with his intense piercing 
eyes at the outline of her body through the near-transparency of the shower 
curtain. In his hand he held an ice-pick, bent slightly on the end, and 
Daria almost fainted with shock before she realized that he must have used 
it to pick the lock. Seeming to sense erroneous conclusion to which she'd 
originally jumped, the bare-chested muscular man pitched the weapon away. 
Then he grinned, stepped out of his shoes and dropped his trousers to the 
floor. He reached behind his back to pull the door shut and lock it again. 
And as Daria gawked open-mouthed at his long limber penis, stirring slowly 
upward toward rigidity, he pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the 
shower with her. 

"Tell me, kid," he said, grinning down at her flushed, surprised face. "Have 
you ever had your pussy eaten?" 

 Eight 

Daria didn't know how long she stood in stunned silence after she'd heard 
that shocking question. Her head was almost reeling and there was a weakness 
in her legs. They were facing each other, their naked bodies but inches 
apart, the water cascading over them. Lucky was watching her with a leering 
grin as she gazed open-mouthed back at him. In spite of everything she'd 
been unable to contain the unwanted thrill that had rose in her breasts at 
the sight of him coming through the door. Her body had responded 
automatically as he'd suddenly stripped naked before her, and the lurid 
visions which darted through her mind at the sight of that long reptilian 
penis that had given her such exquisite pleasure the night before were more 
than she could resist. And then he'd said that, that awful perverse 
suggestion which could only be taken as a further attempt to debase and 
shame and humiliate her. And yet with all her sense of personal degradation 
at being treated so much like a worthless whore she couldn't ignore the 
lascivious and compelling images the mere suggestion prompted in her mind. 

My God, it was just too horrible to believe, and she knew he couldn't be 
seriously thinking of doing such a thing. Or had he been so warped by prison 
that he could think of lowering himself and shaming and humiliating her that 
way? She didn't know. She couldn't guess. She could hardly even think, and 
she only knew that somehow she had to pull herself together and get back on 
some kind of even keel. Here just a moment ago in her own wishful inner 
reverie she was telling herself she was in love with this crude brute of a 
man who had so ruthlessly taken and used her body. But this wasn't love, not 
what he was suggesting now. It was depraved and perverse, a warped act of 
lust and sexual deviation. 

"Well?" Lucky asked, reaching up to lay his hand gently on the side of her 
damp cheek. 

"Well ... what?" Daria gasped, her whole body jerking as Lucky's distending 
and blue veined penis prodded up suddenly against her naked inner thighs. 

"Have you ever had your pussy eaten?" 

"Oh my God! Nooooooo!" Daria whimpered. 

He was grinning at her in lewd amusement, reaching down to take his cock in 
his hand, stroking lewdly up and down its massive, still increasing length. 
It was almost fully hard in spite of the cold water pouring over their 
bodies, pulsing with almost visible urgency, surrounded at the base by a 
thick matting of wetted, dark brown curly hair. Then he removed his hand 
from his cock, reaching out to wrap it I around her body, pulling her too 
him to kiss her on the lips. He took the bar of soap from the rack, 
scrubbing it forcibly into a lather over her rigidly nipple-peaked breasts, 
down over the tingling smooth skin of her belly, on down into the soft 
almost blond strands of the hair of her cunt. 

"Oooooh please noooooo!" Daria moaned without conviction as she felt the 
soap bar lather up between her thighs over the tingling bud of her clitoris 
and the softly hair-lined lips of her cunt. She didn't know when she'd ever 
experienced anything so weirdly exciting. It was an action she'd performed 
countless times herself, and more often than once she'd allowed herself to 
enjoy a certain amount of sexual titillation from this act of personal 
hygiene. But that had felt nothing like this. Lucky was scrubbing the soap 
bar back and forth in a rhythmic little motion along the passion sizzling 
lips of her cunt and the sensation she derived from it was almost driving 
her out of her mind. 

Then Daria's nakedly glistening body jerked in little spasms of bizarre 
delight as he scrubbed farther back between her thighs, right across the 
sensitive membrane at the bottom of her pulsating little cunt-slit and up 
between her buttocks to press right on the tingling tightly puckered hole of 
her anus. 

Good Lord, what was he doing down there anyway? Daria thought she was going 
to scream aloud from the teasing sensation, and the smirking grin on Lucky's 
face only added to her discomfort and masochistic stimulation. Then he moved 
his other hand back up to again caress over her naked, tightened breasts, 
and a moment later he replaced the soap in its rack and began splashing 
water from the shower up between her legs to rinse her pussy. Again his hand 
found contact with her now eagerly inflamed vaginal lips, his fingers 
stroking and prodding at the sensuously receptive flesh with a maddening 
effect. 

Then he dropped down to a sitting position on the edge of the tub, placing 
him right at eye level with her lower belly. Suddenly she remembered what 
he'd threatened to do to her. And now she knew that he wasn't kidding. 

"Oh noooooooo!" Daria whimpered anew. She tried to jump back but Lucky was 
too quick for her, he reached up around her to seize her nakedly clenching 
buttocks and pull her lower body forward toward his face, his hands slipping 
down below the clefts of her ass-cheeks and in between her thighs, the hard 
pressure of his thumbs up into the tender flesh causing her to automatically 
to spread her feet wider apart on the bottom of the tub and allow him even 
greater access to the softly-haired plane of her cunt. 

The humiliated blonde stared down in awe and dismay as Lucky leaned his face 
closer to her lower abdomen, his eyes gleaming bright with passion and 
desire as he used his fingers to part the lips of her cringing little pussy. 

"Nooooooo," Daria moaned weakly, shaking her head from side to side as Lucky 
leaned closer to her. "Please don't do it to me." 

"Shhhhhhhh," he said with a grin. "Don't want your husband to hear you 
talking like that." 

Daria could have screamed. It was really going to happen and she knew there 
was no escape. He had her exactly where he wanted her. With the wide-spread 
position of her feet on the bottom of the bathtub she could hardly even move 
for fear she would slip and fall, and with his arms locked around her 
buttocks she couldn't even draw back in retreat. 

The distraught, aroused young blonde shut her eyes, an uncontrollable tremor 
of excitement rippling through her belly at the touch of Lucky's fingers on 
the raging lips of her cunt. Then suddenly he jabbed his thumbs hard into 
her soft inner thighs to force her legs out even wider, leaving the lewdly 
pulsing slit of her cunt completely open to his view. Daria opened her eyes 
again and she stared down in horror between the quivering mounds of her 
breasts as his tongue flicked from his mouth to moisten his lips in 
anticipation of the cruel lashing it was about to inflict on her helpless 
genitals. 

Then his fingers again found the flanged lips of her cunt and with a slow 
outward motion he drew them completely open until the moist gently pulsing 
inner orifice was completely exposed to his gaze. A low animal groan of lust 
rose in his throat, and he turned his head slightly to the side, bending 
lower so he stared upward beneath her thighs, and without further hesitation 
his tongue shot from his mouth to bury its whole limberly teasing length 
straight up into her wide-spread little pussy opening. 

"Oooooouuuuuuuuuu!" Daria cried out in spite of the presence of her husband 
somewhere in the house. Never had she felt anything like the shock of 
unwanted pleasure that purled completely beyond all control out over her 
tingling flesh, and she stared down almost in delirium at the sight of 
Lucky's head pressed against her naked stomach. 

But she knew any further protest would be to no avail. Physically she was no 
match for him and she was already well enough acquainted with him to know 
that if there was something he wanted from her he was going to take it 
whether she gave freely or not. But this further act of debasement seemed to 
be even more than she deserved, and she felt compelled to try to cling to at 
least a thread of self-respect. If she gave in and responded to this piece 
of perversity then there would be no hope of ever gaining redemption, and in 
spite of the tremors of excitement exuding relentlessly out through her 
naked flesh she vowed that this time she would not be conquered. She would 
give him her body to perform whatever warped depravity struck his fancy. But 
she would not surrender up her spirit. 

"Oh God," Daria sighed, resolved to fight the titillating sensations 
building treacherously through her naked and swaying body. It felt like her 
nerve-ends were exploding in tiny bursts of fiery desire and she was finding 
it less and less easy to remind herself that she was being forced into 
cooperation. In spite of all her mental resolve something else was happening 
physically. Her muscles were beginning to relax into a soft receptivity from 
the continued sucking and licking on her lust-hungry little cunt. Lucky had 
drawn the delicately tingling folds of her vagina deep into his mouth, and a 
long low sigh escaped from her throat in spite of all her efforts to contain 
it. 

The aroused fugitive smiled in lewd self-satisfaction and pressed his face 
hard against Daria's pubis, nibbling at the quivering bud of her clitoris 
until her hips began a slow spontaneous undulating movement and soft mewling 
animal sounds issued from between her tightly gritted teeth. Her gasps and 
whimpers of pleasure echoed against the background noise of the shower still 
pouring full-force over her shoulders and neck. Her vaginal passage began to 
expand and contract, clenching tightly to the slavering tongue searching 
deeper and deeper up into her tingling inner flesh. Her breath exploded in 
quick small gusts from the rawly titillating sensations as Lucky continued 
to curl and flick his tongue all along her trembling hair-lined pussy slit, 
his nose rutting her clitoris to prompt repeated involuntary jerks of her 
naked ass-cheeks. 

Lucky grunted down between Daria's thighs, his tongue thrusting insatiably 
in and out of her hotly responding cunt, plunging again and again to make a 
soft wet sluicing noise with each of its limber penetrations. His face dove 
deeper into the warm moist crevice between her thighs and his lips sucked 
and teased hungrily at the little bud of her clitoris, tantalizing her with 
the sharpness of his teeth as she writhed and churned to shove her buttocks 
up and down in a lewd dance of aroused desire and want. And as her hands 
moved finally down to grasp his hair and pull his face tight against her 
belly and thighs, he chuckled aloud in obscene triumph straight into the 
flowering opening of her lust-dilated cunt. 

"Oooooooh my God that feels good!" Daria whimpered from the continued raw 
and teasing sensation. Now she was really starting to shed her inhibitions, 
grasping Lucky's head with both her hands and squatting slightly to further 
spread her thighs and press his mouth directly over the tight little hole of 
her desire-heated cunt. Her inflamed vaginal lips parted wider and the flow 
of her feminine moisture increased by the second as his hungrily sucking 
mouth continued to work at her aroused pussy crevice. The fragrant slick 
wetness of her passion mingled with the water from the shower to run in 
narrow trickles down the sides of his cheeks. 

The lustfully excited young blonde could never have dreamed of the existence 
of such an utterly debauched way of gaining pleasure as that in which she 
now so willingly partook. The illicit and adulterous eating and sucking her 
pussy was almost more than she could bear and she ground her lushly 
undulating buttocks in a pounding back and forth rhythm to the fervent 
lashing of Lucky's tongue up into her spasming loins. She knew that what she 
was allowing him to do to her was wrong and depraved. She knew that even 
beyond the betrayal of her faith to her young cuckolded husband the 
perverted act in which she was now willingly indulging was an a front to the 
most common and simple precepts of human dignity and decency. And yet the 
sordid wickedness of it all only seemed to further intensify her excitement. 
The sensuous thrills racing through her naked body had taken control of her 
thoughts and her head was spinning in a whirlpool of savage and obliterating 
delight. 

"Ooooooohhhh yessssssss!" she moaned in final outright surrender. "Eat me. 
Eat my cunt!" In the self-debasement of her vocal pleadings she let herself 
go completely as Lucky's wetly seething tongue continued to bore into the 
now almost gaping passage of her cunt. It was pure ecstasy and she found 
herself longing for more and more of whatever he had to offer. She knew in 
the back of her mind even now that she had cast her lot with the temporal 
rather than the steadfast. Her time with Lucky would be brief, then he would 
be gone-either to freedom in Mexico or back to prison or to another place 
even further away, unknown, beyond that fearful veil we will all cross, and 
will cross only once in our lives, never to return. But she reasoned that 
one week or one day or one hour with a man who could make her feel like this 
was better than a lifetime with a man who couldn't. And she was getting 
everything she wanted and more. Lucky's tongue was working at a feverish 
pitch, driving her squirming buttocks to movements of even greater frenzy 
beneath each thrilling stab into her inflamed cuntal tightness. 

Then suddenly before she could even realize what was happening Lucky drew 
his head back from her belly and, using his hands on her buttocks and inner 
thighs to guide her, he forced her to half turn away from him so he was 
presented with the nakedly clenching cheeks of her ass. One of his hands 
moved up her spine almost to her neck, pushing forward so she was forced to 
bend over and use her arm to balance herself on the faucet at the end of the 
bathtub, the humiliating position causing her buttocks to part in obscene 
revelation of the little brown puckered hole of her anus and the now 
inverted triangle of her soft-haired little pussy from behind. 

"Ooooooooh!" Daria groaned in embarrassment at being forced to assume this 
even more humiliating posture and frustration at the temporary cessation of 
the maddening oral stimulation of her cunt. "W-what are you doing?" 

Lucky answered with action rather than words. As she stared back at him in 
shame and trepidation she saw his leering face press suddenly forward right 
into the open crack of her ass from behind. She sighed as she felt his 
tongue again flick forth to lick up the pulsing little slit of her cunt; 
then she blinked in astonishment as it continued right over the sensitive 
membrane to dart full up against the tiny puckered hole of her anus. 

Daria stared backward in unwilling delight as the convict's tongue darted 
again and again into the clenched entrance of the sensitively cringing 
little aperture, striking it like a snake striking forbidden fruit, its 
whole limber searing length flickering right into the tight opening with a 
sharply slicing force. 

"Ooooowwweeeee!" The maddening contact with her sensationally stimulated 
asshole was sending electric shivers to course swiftly over Daria's whole 
jerking body. The lurid vision of what he was doing to her slashed through 
her brain like the shock wave from an erupting volcano. His slavering tongue 
forced its way straight up into the restricting passage of her weirdly 
titillated rectum and her sensuous body shook in an uncontrolled spasm 
before the overpowering oral-anal assault. 

Never had she experienced such a strange and sensual physical pleasure in 
her life and the lewd licking of her asshole continued until her screams of 
submission reached a pitch of delirium. Then suddenly he released the 
pressure of his hand against her upper back, pulling his tongue out of her 
anus with a pop, drawing his face completely back from out of the 
suffocating tightness of the crack of her ass and inner thighs. 

"Oh! What's wrong?" the blonde gasped, the stabbing frustration almost 
causing her to cry out for him to resume the humiliating assault. 

"Out of the bath," Lucky said, reaching up to turn the water off. 

"Why'd you stop?" Daria gasped, turning around and reaching out with her 
hands to try to pull Lucky's face back toward her loins. 

"We're not stopping, kid. Get down on the floor, on the bath mat." 

"Oh! Yes!" Daria hissed with building relish, stepping quickly out of the 
tub and reclining onto her back onto the soft fluffy mat, waiting in an 
almost spread-eagled position as Lucky stood up and gazed with triumph down 
at her glistening naked flesh, completely surrendered and open, his to do 
with as he wished. 

Then her face contorted in shocked disbelief as he dropped down suddenly to 
his all-fours above her, assuming the reversed position so his face was 
again over her squirming naked loins and his knees were planted on either 
side of her face, his rock-hard penis now aimed straight down at her mouth. 
She blanched at the first inkling of this new and even more depraved 
deviation, and whatever doubt she might have possessed was quickly erased as 
he said in a hoarse strained voice: 

"Now, suck it." 

 Nine 

Daria was helplessly pinioned on the bathroom floor. Lucky's forearms rested 
across her thighs, holding them pressed in the wide open-splayed position 
she'd originally willingly assumed. His knees were locked on either side of 
her head, maintaining it in place beneath his crotch and the hotly pulsing 
shaft of his cock. There was nothing she could do to escape and even as her 
mind rebelled she could feel the continued response and need building 
urgently through her naked and defenseless loins. 

But she couldn't submit to this without some kind of protest. The very 
thought of it made anything else that had happened previously fade to pale 
by comparison. But she knew she shouldn't have expected anything else. Lucky 
had debased and humiliated himself in paying her the ultimate homage of 
eating her cunt, it was only natural that he should expect an equal homage 
in return. 

Then she gasped as she saw one of his hands reached down beneath his body to 
seize the hard-pulsing shaft of flesh, bending it downward from his hairy 
naked belly to aim it even more directly at her face. "Now suck it," he 
repeated, dropping his pelvis toward the floor and without the slightest 
warning lowering his own face simultaneously back between her thighs to 
plunge his searing tongue suddenly straight back up into the most exquisite 
and sensitive depths of her eagerly accepting young cunt. 

The unfaithful bride's brain was a jumble of salacious and erotic images as 
the devastating oral contact was resumed over her throbbing little cunt. 
God, it was so wonderful she felt almost that she would be happy to give 
Lucky anything he wanted in return. But her pleasure was tempered by the 
awesome and threatening phallus aimed down toward her mouth, and as Lucky 
dropped his loins even closer to her face, she closed her mouth and gritted 
her teeth tightly shut in defense. A little choked moan rose in her throat 
and her ears even as she resisted the blunt, thick cudgel of his cock 
pressing against her mouth. She could feel it's hard rubberyness almost 
bruising her lips and she caught the sharp bitter taste of the drop of 
seminal fluid that had eased from the glans at the tip. 

For several seconds the excited convict continued to shove his surging 
cock-head against Daria's mouth, tightly closed as if she suffered from 
terminal lockjaw. Then in a sudden fit of anger he fastened his teeth on the 
protruding little nipple of her clitoris, bitting down suddenly hard. 

"Oouuuwwwweeee!" Daria screamed from the sudden sharp stab on the sensitive 
little nub-end of flesh. In yelling she opened her mouth wide. Then she 
realized she'd been tricked as Lucky's cock suddenly plunged between her 
lips and teeth, down the length of her tongue to embed itself far into the 
back of her throat. 

"Gulp," Daria gurgled, almost gagging from the pressure against her pallet 
and tonsils. She fought instinctively against the stifling effect, closing 
her jaws tightly around the bloated hardness, clamping her teeth down hard 
as the relentless pressure continued. She licked and worked her tongue 
defensively around in her mouth, jerking her head back to leave long white 
marks on the surface of the huge cock-shaft as her teeth scratched the blood 
away from the skin. 

But beyond the momentary physical discomfort and a lingering prudish 
instinct that commanded her to rebel on a psychological level, it wasn't all 
that bad. She found she was becoming accustomed to the foreign presence in 
her mouth and, coupled with the maddening sensations of Lucky's lips and 
tongue working slavishly over her cunt, the suggestion the invading phallus 
provoked in her mind seemed to only intensify her perversely building 
excitement. 

Then as she began her first cautious sucking efforts on the hard male 
rigidity Lucky drew it slowly upward, pulling the head back up the length of 
her tongue and out between her teeth, letting it slip from her lips so she 
raised her head up from the bath mat to follow, like a donkey following a 
carrot, and at last she reached up with her own hand and seized the 
palpitating hardness to guide it again toward her lips. Then she flicked her 
tongue hesitantly from her mouth, searching over the purplish head until she 
found the slitted glans at the tip and flicked up another drop of the tangy 
tasting seminal fluid that had seeped forth from the tiny little slit. 

At that renewed contact the massive phallus of flesh seemed to jerk to an 
even greater hardness, flexing and trembling in her hand as if it were a 
living gun. Holding tightly to it, Daria, thought she could sense in it a 
kind of deadly animal danger. She was beginning to relish her venture into 
the unknown world of depravity with a gusto she could hardly believe, and as 
Lucky continued his exquisite oral ministrations over her quivering loins 
she vowed that she would give him everything he wanted in return. She would 
suck him as long as required to give him the kind of satisfaction she could 
feel building already through her raging cunt and throbbing little clitoris. 

The writhing pinioned blonde let the spasms in her belly continue to grow 
and flourish as Lucky's greedily slavering tongue swirled in and out of her 
sucking vaginal furrow. She worked her own tongue slowly over and around the 
blood-filled cock-head, wetting and slickening it with her freely flowing 
saliva as if it were an all-day sucker. She lashed her tongue in velvety 
submission around the jerking and palpitating tip, savoring mischievous 
experimentation and discovery, working gradually lower down the underside of 
the turgid rod of flesh until again she opened and ovaled her lips to take 
the swollen head between them. 

Again Lucky surged ahead, pushing his cock again almost its full length into 
her mouth. But this time rather than trying to resist she accepted it 
greedily, relishing the choking sensation in her throat as she determined to 
do whatever was necessary to push Lucky beyond the brink of his incredible 
self-control. And all the while his face was still shoved eagerly down 
between her thighs, the continued slurping and slavering of his tongue 
driving her every moment nearer climax. Her buttocks were twisting and 
jerking in a wild undulation rhythm up from the bathroom floor. Her sucking 
of his cock was becoming every moment more submissive and fervent, her 
efforts only prompting him to stab his tongue deeper and more swiftly into 
her tight little pussy and work his hips with greater force until he was 
fucking almost ruthlessly into her violated mouth. 

Daria's lips were lushly tensiled, grotesquely stretched and distended by 
the giant presence of Lucky's cock ramming brutally in and out of the hungry 
warmth of her mouth. She could sense him building toward a peak of frenzy 
and she sucked it almost with a vengeance. She was giving herself to him 
body and soul and they were both drawing dangerously near to their climaxes. 
Every muscle and every nerve of her quivering body had become hyper 
sensitive and she was almost overwhelmed by the fantastic surges of 
sensation and eroticism whipping through her breasts and belly and loins. 

Then suddenly Lucky growled right down into the spasming depths of her cunt 
and a moment later his cum bloated balls gave way. He rammed his penis again 
to the hilt, the nub-end buttock and twitching hard against her tonsils as 
her mouth closed again tightly around the hard thick shaft and her hands 
groped and clawed at his churning buttocks as though she would take him even 
deeper. His sperm came surging furiously up the length of his jerking 
rigidity and blasted out from the flaring tip like a shot from a gun, 
pelting into her throat in drop after drop of white hot gushing liquid. 

Daria gurgled submissively, swallowing to keep from choking as the pungently 
heated fluids squirted in a gushing flood from the massively violating 
hardness. At the same time her own body was undergoing a series of 
excruciating and devastating spasms as the ripples of pleasure soared out 
from her clitoris and vagina in a current of shattering human bliss. She 
lapped with servile acceptance at the spewing and jerking cock-head, 
gobbling down every available drop of the hot thick spurting sperm. 

The fury of their perfectly simultaneous climaxes seemed to go on forever. 
Daria's pussy was sucking and contracting ceaselessly around Lucky's still 
wantonly slavering tongue and his own wildly pumping jism filled her mouth 
and spilled slickly down her lips. Then at last the obscene ejaculations 
ceased and a moment later her vagina underwent one last little spasm and she 
sank motionless beneath him on the bath mat. His penis slipped from her 
mouth, attached still to her lips by a thin web-like strand of viscous 
liquid. He raised up from between her thighs, shifting about and stretching 
out beside her on the floor. Eagerly she snuggled into his arms, kissing him 
hungrily on the lips and relishing the strange coppery-scented taste of her 
own cunt-juices mixed with his saliva. 

Then she drew her head back, beaming at his face. She was about to tell him 
how she felt when she heard the discharge of the shotgun somewhere outside 
the house. 

 Ten 

When Daria reached the back door of the house, naked except for the long 
bath towel she'd draped over her lush still damply glistening body, she 
sighed with relief at the sight of John, his arms raised above his head, 
standing about a hundred feet past the back fence, next to a cactus which 
had been decapitated by a shotgun blast. Hank was standing ten or twelve 
paces away, the gun leveled toward him. Lucky, who'd left the bathroom at a 
run with his trousers in his hand but had apparently put them on along the 
way, was walking shirtless and barefoot toward Daria's husband and the older 
convict. Daria herself hesitated for a moment, then hurried after him out 
the back gate, stepping-light footed on the hot, sun-baked sand. 

She caught Lucky still some distance short of the other two men. She'd 
carefully entwined the towel around her body so it covered all but the upper 
portions of her breasts and extended down an almost modest length below her 
thighs, tucked in tightly beneath her arms. Lucky glanced at her briefly and 
touched his hand lightly to her shoulder in a gesture of friendly affection. 
She smiled, then turned to face her husband's wounded glare. 

"What happened?" Lucky asked as they moved up beside Hank. 

"I had to get under the car," Hank said. "He made a dash for it. Guess he 
figured he could make it out of range. I fired a warning shot to let him 
know he wasn't out of range and I guess he got the point." 

Daria looked at the shredded top of the cactus, a little shiver running down 
her spine as she tried to imagine what John would have looked like if it had 
been him instead of the cactus who had been hit by the shotgun blast. Then 
she winced slightly at the implication of her having had that thought. My 
God, she was really getting warped. She was getting downright gruesome. And 
yet she found something almost morbidly funny about her own ironic downfall, 
and as she continued to dwell on the matter she couldn't suppress the wicked 
grin that crept across her lips. 

"Guess you think this is all funny, hunh?" John asked suddenly, lowering his 
hands toward his side. 

"Hands up goddamn it or I'll blow your fucking head off," Hank said, 
gesturing menacingly with the shotgun. 

John raised his hands again, jerking slightly as the gun was brandished in 
his direction. Then he scowled. "Still don't see why I've got to keep my 
hands up. I haven't got a gun. What're you afraid of, that I'll draw my 
prick on you or something?" 

Daria giggled in spite of all her efforts to restrain herself, then raised 
her hand to cover her mouth and tried to assume a straight-faced expression. 

"He's got a point hasn't he?" Hank said, looking for leadership to Lucky. 

Lucky scratched his chin. "Yeah, you can put your hands down." John lowered 
his hands. "Why'd you try to run away like that anyway?" 

"Why'd I try to run away?" 

"Yeah. I mean, don't you realize if you'd run away and left your wife here 
you'd just be makin' all kinds of trouble for her and us and everybody?" 

"Well ... " 

"And didn't you ever think of what 'uz gonna happen to you if you didn't 
make it? I mean, how we'd have to at least keep you uh ... tied up some 
place and maybe gagged an' all until we made it to Mexico?" 

Daria giggled again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hank smile at her. 

"An' maybe ... maybe how to discourage any other stupid ass stunts we'd uh 
... " Lucky paused, thoughtful, then said: "Take your pants off?" 

John's face blanched in the blistering sun. "What?" 

"Drop your trousers Buster, right now." 

Daria giggled. Her husband's eyes flashed on her again, eyes hurt, full of 
shame and a kind of adolescent seeming fear. She had her hand over her mouth 
and she was trying everything she could do to hold it back and still the 
little laughs were coming, shaking her shoulders, causing her naked breasts 
to jiggle visibly beneath the covering towel. My God, I'm evil and sadistic, 
she thought, noting out of the corner that Lucky was watching her with 
obvious pleasure. 

Then John shook his head. "I'm not going to do it." 

"Yes you are. Hank, I'm gonna count to five. Then shoot him." 

Daria's laughter stopped. 

John swallowed hard, looking searchingly from one man to the other and back 
again, back and forth between them. 

"That's right," said Lucky. "One! Two! Three! Four!" 

"All right!" John blurted, his hand suddenly moving to undo his belt. 

"Shoes too," said Lucky. 

John nodded, balancing himself awkwardly on first one leg and then the other 
as he lifted his feet and removed his loafers. Then he undid the buckle and 
dropped his trousers, standing shame-faced before them. 

"Git 'em on off," said Lucky. "Shorts too." 

"The shorts." It sounded a dead remark. John worked his feet free from his 
trousers and stared sheepishly at the ground as he pulled his jocky shorts 
down. Again Daria giggled at the sight of his penis, now shrunk to a 
fraction of its normal size. "All right," he said finally, raising his eyes 
in an expression of utter defeat. 

"Get your trousers and bring 'em on," said Lucky, suppressing any sign of 
humor from his own voice. "We'll see if we can find a comfortable place to 
tie you." 

"Tie me?" 

"Hell yes." 

John before them, his buttocks white in the sun beneath the tails of his 
shirt, they marched back to the house. Daria now had almost contained her 
laughter and she was trying to fathom in her mind what could have gotten in 
her to make her act the way she had the last twenty-four hours. She was at 
the point concluding it was an automatic escape mechanism of the 
subconscious that inspired her perverse and untimely mirth when she was 
interrupted from her thoughts by Lucky's voice asking Hank how work was 
coming on the car. Hank said there were a couple of problems, but that he'd 
have everything fixed in a couple of hours. Then she experienced an acute 
stab of disappointment as Lucky said: 

"Then we'll get on the road tonight. Be better off traveling after dark." 

"Don't figure there'll be roadblocks?" 

"Hell I dunno. They didn't say anything on the news." 

John went through the gate, tugging his shirt tails down in an effort to 
cover his buttocks, then paused at the back door of the house. Lucky told 
him to open it and go in when they came up to him. He did so and they 
followed him down the hall to the den. Using the pistol, which he'd 
extracted from his pocket, as a prod, Lucky ushered him through, and paused, 
gazing around the room. 

Then he motioned John over to the rocking chair and ordered him to sit down. 
Leaving Hank to guard the embarrassed half naked man, he went out to the 
garage and returned shortly with a length of what appeared to be parachute 
cord. As John whined in protest he ordered him to extend his arms downward 
along the two back legs of the rockers, then stooped and securely bound his 
wrists, then stepped back and surveyed his work. 

"Well, guess that'll hold him about as well as anything." He shook his head, 
"Sure hate to have to do that to a man, many times as I had it done to me up 
at that goddamn place we called home for so many years." 

"Well if you hate to do it why don't you cut me loose," John pleaded. 

Lucky stared at him silently for a moment, rocking slightly in the chair his 
cock dangling from his hairy pubis and distended slightly longer than the 
dwarfed state in which it had first been revealed. Daria looked back and 
forth, from her lover to her bound husband, back to her lover. "Cause I 
don't want to go back there. Come on, Hank, let's get to work on that car." 

Without another word Lucky and the other armed man walked, bearing their 
weapons, out of the room and back down the hall. Daria stood where she was, 
still clad in the towel tucked securely in around her breasts. She raised 
her hand and sucked absently on her thumb, studying her husband's bitter, 
wounded face, her gaze descending pensively down to his exposed, restlessly 
stirring penis. After a moment she walked several steps closer to him, 
swaying slightly on her feet, conscious of his angry eyes coursing over the 
teasingly outlined curves of her body, naked beneath the bath towel. 

"You're on their side now, aren't you?" he said sulkily. 

She shrugged. "Well, if you mean to say I don't want to see Lucky and Hank 
go back to that awful penitentiary. Yes, I'm for them." 

"You were making it with him again this morning when I tried to break for 
it, weren't you? He came running out of the house pulling on his pants." 

Daria bit her lip. Again she felt an inclination to laugh and she hoped the 
pain would stifle it. God, she did not know how she could have become so 
cruel and heartless. She thought now that perhaps she'd always been cruel, 
though previously it had manifested itself in another form. Perhaps that 
year she'd spent going out with John, often teasing him to a peak of sexual 
frenzy and then refusing to let him have what he wanted, had been just 
another form of the same cruelty that allowed her to take perverse delight 
in his present emotional agony. 

"You were, weren't you?" he coaxed bitterly. 

"Well ... " Suddenly she smiled. "We weren't exactly making it. Not the way 
me I and you did night before last. We were do ... something else." 

"All right," he said, casting his eyes gloomily toward the floor. "I don't 
want to hear about it. I don't know why I care what you do now, but I still 
don't want to hear about it." 

 "I can understand that," Daria said seriously. 

He looked up. "Untie my hands." 

"No. I can't." 

"Just untie me and let me ... " 

"No." 

"Let me touch you." 

"What?" Daria gasped, blinking. 

"I want to ... to fuck you one more time. Wouldn't you like that?" He was 
studying her thoughtful face, eagerly. "You can't be I getting enough from 
that ... con. Untie me and let me have some too while ... while they're 
working on the car." 

"I can't," Daria said after a moment of thought. "I can't untie you. But ... 
John, I mean this. The worst mistake I ever made except maybe marrying you 
was holding out on you all that time. An I would like to do it with you now. 
I guess I really am a whore. I guess I always have been deep down inside. 
But I would really like to do it with you again, right now. Just for the fun 
of it." 

"Then untie me." 

"No. We can try to do it in the chair if you want to but I can't untie you. 
I can't jeopardize Hank and Lucky's freedom just to gratify my own ... 
needs." 

"You fucking slut!" he hissed, setting the rocker into a rocking motion. "I 
wouldn't touch you, you cunt. I wouldn't touch you if you were the last 
woman on earth." 

Daria smiled. "Is that true?" 

Then, as John's eyes bugged, she parted the lower half of the towel off her 
naked blonde-fringed cunt. She stepped forward, reaching down with her hand 
to clasp it gently around the still limber shaft of his cock, feeling it 
begin almost instantly to grow in her hand. She stroked it quickly to an 
almost full erection as John struggled futility against his bonds. Then she 
stepped back and let the towel fall back in place over her loins and stared 
down in smiling triumph. 

"See?" she said. "You would touch me. You would love to touch me. But I 
don't see how we could really do it very well in that chair because the arms 
would get in the way. And I can't turn you lose. I'm going to go make some 
sandwiches for the men and have my morning coffee. I'll see you a little 
later." 

* * * 

Daria had unpacked her bikini from her suitcase and spent the hottest hours 
of the afternoon sunbathing her already golden-tanned body in the back yard. 
Once she'd opened her eyes and found Hank standing at the corner, staring at 
her. The car had taken longer than he'd anticipated, and he had informed her 
they were still working on it and then, hand toying at his trousers crotch 
to arrange his bulging cock in his pants, he'd moved away out of sight. 

When she could no longer stand the sun she'd gone and watched the men work 
for a while, then gone back into the house and made herself a drink. She sat 
in her bikini, drinking, as John, his lower body now covered beneath the 
towel she'd been wearing that morning, sat glowering and rocking. 

She was on her fourth gin and tonic when the two sweating men came in. 

"Well," Luke announced. "She'll make it to the border." He looked out the 
window at the fading light. "What a day's work! Let's have some grub. Then 
it'll be dark enough we can get on the road." 

Daria hesitated but a moment, then quickly drank down the rest of her drink 
for courage and said what she'd been thinking about for most of the 
afternoon: "Lucky? What if we stayed here one more night, I mean, me and you 
together? It seems like we're pretty safe here and by then the police might 
have started getting their minds on other things. I ... I want to be with 
you ... for the night ... before you go ... in case something happens." 

Daria saw the red flush over John's face and again she wondered how she 
could be so cruel. She saw the sharpening in Lucky's eyes, the pensive gleam 
in Hank's. She could feel her own heart pounding frenziedly in her bikini 
clad breasts. Then it seemed to sink as Lucky shook his head. 

"I'd like to, Babe. But we can't. It ain't fair ... to Hank or ... even to 
Buster there." 

Hank's lips seemed to quiver and his eyes were hungrily roving over Daria's 
teasingly revealed body. Then suddenly he leaned over and whispered 
something in Lucky's ear. There was a silence over the room as Lucky thought 
it over, then ventured to Daria in a slow paced voice: 

"Hank says he'd be willing to take the chance if ... well, you know Hank 
spent seven years in the joint ... he still hasn't ... ." 

Daria could feel the pounding of her heart and she thought her voice would 
falter as she answered: "I understand. It wouldn't be fair to ... " She 
hesitated, looking at Hank's eager, embarrassed face. "To leave Hank out," 
she said doggedly. "Would that bother you, Lucky. If I ... if Hank." 

"Jesus!" John exclaimed from his place in the rocking chair. 

Lucky smacked his lips and paced around in a little circle and looked up at 
Daria and then managed a crazy-looking kind of smile. "Hell, I ain't got no 
right to be bothered. An' if I am bothered, I'll get over it." 

Daria sighed, her mind reeling with this new and even more shocking turn of 
events. Then, out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed her dazed looking 
husband. She took a deep breath, rallying her courage. "And John? After all 
he is my husband." 

Lucky nodded with a grin. "Yeah Buster. Count yourself in, too. We're gonna 
have a party." 

 Eleven 

Daria had really passed the limits of even her wildest and most secret 
fantasies. Through the time she spent preparing the men and evening meal, 
the mingled excitement and dread that consumed her consciousness made it 
almost impossible for her to think clearly and try to evaluate on a 
psychological level her motives for getting herself into her present 
situation. With the air conditioning the house had turned cool at sundown, 
and she had changed out of her bikini into a sexy black brassiere and lacy 
matching panties, then slipped into a loosely clinging cotton dress that 
buttoned down the front. The cooking of the meal, the serving and the eating 
were like steps of a slow ritual preceding a human sacrifice. There was a 
building tension in the air. The men ate silently, watching her. She knew 
they were thinking about what they were going to do to her. She could feel 
the electric current in the atmosphere, a building tension she thought could 
have been cut with a knife. She was the sacrifice. In that moment of drunken 
over-emotion she had given her body up to them. She knew now that it would 
be impossible for her to retract the offer. 

Outside the window the sky had turned dark. Daria rose and cleared the 
plates off the T.V. dinner serving tables on which she'd served the meal in 
the den. Her eyes met the eyes of each of the men: Hank beaming with almost 
childish innocence, looking over her supple lush body again as though she 
were the first woman he'd ever seen in his life; Lucky now sullen and 
pensive, perhaps jealous of the fact that his conquest would be shared by 
his partner, determined, she feared, to take out his hostilities physically 
on her surrendered body; and John, his right hand now untied so he could 
feed himself, looking at her with a raw lusting hatred. 

She took the plates and walked out of the room and down the hall to the 
kitchen. She put them into the sink and ran warm water over them, her body 
trembling at the thought of what was about to happen. She had merely picked 
at her own meal, and yet the little she had eaten had served to tone down 
her alcohol high. Now she was beginning to sincerely wonder what she had 
gotten herself into, and why on earth she'd done it, and she dallied over 
the dishes much longer than was necessary, trying to postpone her ordeal as 
long as she could. Again she considered the thought of fleeing. Now the 
prospect seemed more tempting than it had at any time since her captive 
sojourn had begun. My God, she couldn't imagine what on earth had come over 
her to agree to submit to Lucky's grudging and obscene suggestion. It was 
group-sex, the notorious "gang-bang," as she knew it was referred to in 
slang, and now the very idea was more than she could face. She just couldn't 
do it. She couldn't. It would be the betrayal of her last remnant of 
decency, the undoing even of the strange warped love affair which had first 
put her on the road to damnation. And if she killed that love, however 
strange a love it had been, she would have nothing left to cling to in her 
mind. 

Her heart suddenly racing, Daria turned and crept out of the kitchen, 
continued down the hall to the room where she'd slept beside her passed-out 
husband that first night after Lucky had fucked her until she couldn't see 
straight. She went over to the window and stood looking out, then gently 
raised it and unlatched the screen. Her breath was coming in sharp hoarse 
gasps, as if she were breathing air too low on oxygen. She was trembling 
with fear and excitement. She knew she had to go, and yet she couldn't seem 
to make herself make the move of pushing the screen open and climbing 
through. She waited, almost paralyzed. Then, hearing the voice behind her 
she realized she'd waited too long. 

"You're not going anywhere." 

It was Lucky, standing in the door. Daria turned to face him with 
frightened, moistened eyes. "Lucky. I ... I can't do it. I don't know what I 
was thinking about this afternoon. I must have been drunk, but this isn't 
what I wanted. I wanted just to sleep with you. Just you." She was watching 
him almost desperately and he merely stood there, looking at her almost 
without emotion. Her lips quivered, then curled into an insane kind of 
little smile, and suddenly she rushed forward toward him, threw her body 
against his and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, squirming her firm 
voluptuous breasts hard against his chest. "Lucky I love you, don't you 
understand? I can't do that, not right in front of you I can't let another 
man have me. You're the one I want and I can ... I can see that you feel ... 
the same way about me." 

"Maybe." 

"Oh yes, yes!" she cried, standing on her tiptoes to shower wet little 
kisses over his face. "I knew it, you feel the same way I do and ... " 

"But you ain't holdin' out on Hank, not after you got him all excited." 

"What?" Daria stepped back, her hand moving up to her mouth as she stood 
looking at him with tearful pleading eyes. 

"You ain't holdin' out on Hank. Come on." 

He took her wrist, his strong hand almost crushing her bones as he led her 
out of the room and back down the hall, walking swiftly and half-pulling, 
half-dragging her along behind him like a naughty child being led to a 
thrashing. 

"No Lucky, please no, I can't, I can't," Daria protested in a cracking 
voice, but all her pleas were to no avail and he jerked her into the room, 
flinging her by the arm so she went stumbling through the door, almost fell 
and finally just managed to regain her balance and stand, in the center of 
the room, looking wild-eyed at the two waiting men. 

Hank was standing by the liquor cabinet, a tall glass of gin and tonic in 
his hand, that same childish excitement reddening his sunburned face. Then 
her eyes strayed to John, rocking slowly in the chair, watching her with a 
sulking grin. His right hand, she noted, was again tied to the arm of the 
rocker. The towel still lay across his naked loins, but she could see the 
stirring erection tenting up beneath it. 

"I fixed you a drink," Hank said, stepping forward and holding the glass out 
toward her. 

"John ... " she said in a whisper, absently taking the drink as she stared 
down at his two bound hands. 

"Buster's decided he wants no part of you," Lucky said. "That's his 
business, but we can't afford to have him pulling some kind of monkey 
business while we got our minds on something else. 

"John?" 

"It's your party, baby," he said with a sadistic and gloating smile. 

"How we gonna do this?" Hank asked. "Can I go first?" 

"That's no fun," John said, still looking smugly at his frightened wife. 
"She's got enough holes to go around, why don't you both take her at the 
same time?" 

"John!" Daria gasped, quickly draining half the drink and again feeling the 
rushing effect of the alcohol through her brain. 

"That's right," Lucky said, turning to Hank. "You want her cunt or her 
mouth?" 

"Oh no," Daria whimpered, hardly able to believe this wasn't a dream from 
which she would momentarily awake. "It can't be. It just can't!" 

"Oh but it is!" John gloated from his place on the chair. 

"That's right." 

Daria started at the sound of Lucky's voice just behind her. He took the 
empty glass from her hand and she turned and looked at him with a desperate 
pleading. "Oh Lucky, don't make me." 

"Strip!" 

"No, please ... " 

"Strip!" 

He stooped and set the glass on the floor. He straightened up, his cold hard 
eyes boring into hers. Then he reached up to the front of her dress with 
both hands and jerked. There was a swift ripping sound as the buttons tore 
loose all the way down to her waist. She was trembling, her heart pounding 
frantically in her breast, her eyes glazed with the weirdly building 
masochistic excitement churning already relentlessly through her loins at 
the thought of what was about to be done to her. He pushed the dress from 
her shoulders and it fell away from the top half of her body, then slipped 
from the flare of her hips and dropped to her ankles at the floor. Still 
watching her with his seething, lusting rage, he reached behind her back and 
unsnapped the brassiere, working the straps quickly down off her arms so the 
lacy black cups fell away from her proudly upstanding breasts and she was 
left naked except for her flimsy little panties in front of the three 
leering men. 

Daria didn't know when she'd felt so vulnerable and ashamed in all her life. 
Her supple body was trembling and her legs felt weak and wobbly beneath her. 
She could feel the cool air conditioned air tingling over her goosebumped 
little nipples, causing them to rise to pert rigidity off the lusttauted 
swells of her breasts, and she was aware of a slick and discomforting 
wetness in the crotchband of her panties from the freely flowing moisture 
that seeped involuntarily from her cunt. Like a prisoner surrounded by 
sadistic interrogators, she looked around at the three men, the two convicts 
staring at her with their excitement and lust and John still watching her 
with his smirking almost self-satisfied smile. 

"God Jesus Lord she's beautiful, Lucky," Hank said in a hoarse quivering 
voice. "See if you can get her to take her panties off. I wanna see her 
cunt, hunh? Can I see her cunt?" 

"The panties," Lucky said tersely. 

"Please!" Daria whimpered. 

She heard John give out with a short burst of laughter, like an echo of her 
own laughter when Lucky had made him remove his own trousers after he'd 
tried to escape. 

"The panties," Lucky repeated, and suddenly giving in to the hopelessness of 
her situation Daria slipped her thumbs into the tight elastic waistband at 
the top of the flimsy little garment and drew them slowly downward off the 
flare of her ass-cheeks and the blonde-haired triangle of her cunt, down the 
length of her slender silken thighs to step out of them and leave them lying 
uselessly on the floor at her feet. Then she straightened up slowly, looking 
at Lucky with lust-glazed eyes, and spoke in a soft voice of resignation and 
surrender: 

"There. I'm naked." 

Lucky smiled, his eyes roving lustfully over the soft curves of her 
quivering body as his own hand moved down to unbutton the fly of his white 
trousers. Behind her Daria could hear a low hissing of breath, but for the 
moment she stood mesmerized as Lucky withdrew his long, still limber cock 
from his trousers and gave it a couple of teasing shakes with his hand. 

"Suck it," he said, reaching up with one hand to seize Daria's long blonde 
hair and start to draw her face downward. 

Unable to fight against the pain on her scalp, Daria started to drop to her 
knees. Then Lucky gave a harder yank, forcing her again to straighten up. 

"Lucky? What ... ?" 

"Bend over and suck it." 

"He means leave your ass in the air, honey," John said sarcastically from 
his place as a sideline observer. 

Tears of shame spilling from her eyes, Daria planted her feet squarely on 
the floor, stiffening her knees and bending at the waist to lower her face 
again toward his crotch and the distending length of his cock. She was so 
filled with shame and self-pity she could have died right there on the spot, 
and her awareness that the humiliating stooped position of her body served 
to present the two men behind her with a perfect view of her asshole and 
naked little cunt only intensified her sense of disgrace. But she knew 
better than to resist. Her only hope was to get through her moment of 
suffering as quickly and easily as possible, and it was with a tender 
expertise that she took Lucky's cock in her hand, stroking gently along the 
growing hardening shaft and drawing the bulbous swollen head almost eagerly 
up toward her voluptuously parted and ovaled lips. 

"Jesus Christ," she heard John gasp, and she was vaguely aware of a rustling 
of clothing behind her. 

Then, as her lips were but inches away from Lucky's purplish swollen 
cock-head he began to walk backward, leading her in her bent-over position 
by the pull of his hand on her hair. She could see nothing but the floor and 
she was only slightly conscious of the shuffling footsteps behind her. Then 
Lucky dropped to a sitting position in the arm of the couch, forcing her to 
stoop even lower and further increasing the strain on her neck and back and 
shoulders, even more ripely proffering her nakedly upturned ass. 

"Oooooh!" Daria moaned from the punishing physical discomfort as Lucky 
jerked her head even lower. She flicked her tongue cautiously from her lips, 
circling it teasingly over and around the lust-bloated cock-head in 
anticipation of taking it into her mouth. Then she heard another shuffling 
sound behind her and the lurid vision of what was really about to happen 
flashed starkly in her mind even before John called with sadistic glee: 

"Watch out from behind, baby, got a surprise coming in from the rear." 

Suddenly jerking her face around, Daria stared back in shocked awareness at 
the sight of Hank, his trousers clutching at his ankles, moving up into 
position behind her nakedly thrust-up buttocks. And as her eyes came to rest 
on his pulsing throbbing cock she couldn't contain the cry of terror that 
rose from her throat. 

Oh no, god no, she couldn't take that thing in her cunt! It was enormous. He 
made even Lucky look like a midget. It was thick and long, thrusting 
straight up from his hairy belly a good eight or nine inches in length, so 
enormous she was sure it would rip her apart at the seams. 

Suddenly gripped by sheer panic for her physical well-being, Daria started 
to drop to her knees, at the same time struggling desperately to free her 
hair from Lucky's grasp. But the older convict seized her from behind, 
wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her buttocks in their upturned 
proffered posture even as Lucky took hold of one of her ears to pull her 
face forcibly lower toward his crotch. 

Then before she could make another move to escape or resist Hank shuffled a 
couple more steps forward and her whole body shuddered from the sudden 
frightful contact of his massive erection thrusting straight up between her 
thighs from behind. Her body jerked in automatic response, lunging forward 
so her mouth ran head on into Lucky's nakedly up-thrust hardness, gulping as 
it slipped between her lips and teeth and plunged down the length of her 
tongue to her throat. And as she reflexively drew back in the face of that 
obscene and unnatural invasion of her mouth, Hank's hands jerked back 
suddenly hard on her flanks and her whole body contorted from the sudden 
searing contact of his over-sized cock-head pushing right up against the 
cringing hair-ringed opening of her cunt. 

"MMMMMNNNNN!" Daria moaned, her protestation rendered unintelligible by 
Lucky's bloated cock thrust deep in her mouth as she swayed weakly in shame 
and terror before the gigantically blunted cock-head shoving hard at her 
moistly heated cunt-lips from the rear. Every muscle in her body felt as if 
it were being stretched beyond endurance and her wide planted feet left her 
thighs completely open, offering the plane of her pussy up helplessly to the 
barrel-chested convict mounting her like a bull from the back. There was 
nothing she could do to escape. Her proffered loins were his to plunder at 
his will. 

Then suddenly Hank lunged forward again, driving the enormous tip of his 
cock-head up into her unnaturally stretched vaginal aperture. Her buttocks 
jerked in tremoring spasms and she plunged her stretched and ovaled lips all 
the way to the base of Lucky's lewdly-inflamed hardness as he continued his 
mighty, searing lunge, shoving his plundering cock-head deeper and deeper 
into her burning cunt to push all resistance aside until it was embedded up 
into her to the hilt. 

"Aaaaggghhhhhh!" she managed to cry out in spite of the penis that stuffed 
her mouth, but there was no respite and even before the two separately 
tortured orifices of her mouth and cunt could have begun to adjust to the 
simultaneous abnormal penetrations, the two men began to frenziedly fuck her 
back and forth from both ends at once. It was too horrible to even tell and 
they were buffeting her mercilessly as their cocks plunged in swift 
synchronized motion between her lips and teeth and up into the pain-parted 
lips of her cunt. In the background she heard as eerie distant echoes of her 
bound husband's spiteful remarks. The slapping of Hank's loins against her 
naked upturned buttocks sounded like a Medieval dungeon flagellation. The 
gulping and gurgling and whimpering noises that poured from her own 
cock-ravaged throat were no less unreal and no less real. The agony in her 
cunt was an outrageous burning presence that nearly pushed her into the 
escape of the unconscious and was matched only by the mental agony of having 
her mouth and loins used in such a merciless and contemptuous fashion. But 
there was no escape, no sleep; she remained awake, helplessly pinioned and 
wedged between the two wildly fucking men until somehow, almost miraculously 
it seemed, her mind and body began gradually to adjust. 

Her pussy muscles stretched beyond all recognition and the unspeakable 
subjugation of her flesh and spirit began to create a stirring of bizarre 
masochistic excitement coursing electrically through her loins and flesh. 
She had played with fire and she was being burnt. But she had wanted it and 
now she was getting it as she could never have dreamed. She was being fucked 
in a manner that made anything else to which she'd been subjected these last 
few days seem like mere child's play, and even if the physical stress 
resulted in permanent emotional injury she knew she would never escape until 
she'd gained her own now badly needed release. And now beginning to long for 
that redeeming factor of physical climax, she cautiously began to rotate her 
buttocks backward to meet Hank's massively violating forward lunges, at the 
same time starting to suck and lick in servile doglike submission to the 
hard-inflamed penis ramming relentlessly into her mouth. 

"Oooouuuuuuuummmnn," Daria whimpered as the two men continued to rack and 
pummel her captive body, driving her helplessly as a rag doll back and forth 
between them. The debasement of her situation and the obscene of being used 
this way as a receptacle for all their pent-up lust and fury were taking 
their toll on her will to resist. The secret masochistic desire stirring 
through her aching flesh was bursting into full bloom and she began to roll 
and rotate her back thrust buttocks in teasing luxuriating circles, 
tightening her cruelly ravished cunt muscles warmly around the cock impaling 
her from behind and at the same time intensifying her wanton cock-sucking on 
the hard rod of flesh that plundered into her mouth. She was giving herself 
up completely now and she was determined to do whatever she had do to 
satisfy these two sex-obsessed men who were so cruelly using her helpless 
and naked young body. 

And already the end was drawing near. It had been more than seven years 
since Hank Daily had had a woman and he'd never had one like Daria. He was 
thrusting into her harder and faster, battering brutally against the 
cushions of her nakedly squirming ass. At the same time the saliva in her 
mouth was becoming sticky and thick from the lubrication fluid that seeped 
from the end of Lucky's cock in anticipation of his swiftly building 
ejaculation. And her own excitement and lust was moving swiftly past the 
point of no return. 

Then suddenly Daria sensed the cock fucking into her so enormously from 
behind begin to tense and inflate even thicker and harder. It was flexing 
like a weight-lifter's muscles far up into her most sensitive vaginal 
depths. Her thighs were being swept apart as the hairy-chested man drove 
vengefully into her, shoving his bloated penis as far as it would go up into 
the lining of her belly as he suddenly began to spew his teeming viscous cum 
in a shattering torrent into her succulently contracting womb. 

Daria rocked back frenziedly as she felt the seething male fluids pouring 
hotly into her slickening dilated vagina, filling her until she thought she 
would burst from the pressure of his still rock-hard penis. His staccato 
slapping of her waggling naked ass-cheeks caused her to bury her face even 
more hungrily in Lucky's jerking loins, and a moment later she felt his cock 
twitch to full length into her mouth and explode forth with a volcanic 
eruption of pungently seething liquid. She swallowed to keep from choking, 
hollowing her cheeks as her mouth was filled with the fiery gushes of cum. 
Her lips clasped tight around the lurching cock-shaft and she hungrily 
gobbled down the torrent of salty-tasting life-giving sperm, all the while 
continuing to grind and rotate her buttocks in wild and savage undulations 
as she felt the first warning spasms deep in her loins and her own body 
burst forth and soared up and exploded in a shattering crescendo of ecstasy 
and relief. 

All three of them were cumming together and their obscene rousing climaxes 
seemed to go on forever before the two penises that had so ravished her 
finally began to deflate and retract respectively from her vagina and mouth. 
Her naked body still twitching with post orgasmic delight, Daria leaned 
forward against Lucky, wrapping her arms warmly around him and snuggling 
tight against his chest. 

He held her for a moment, then gently disengaged himself, letting her 
collapse in exhaustion over the arm-rest of the couch. Behind her she was 
vaguely conscious of Hank muttering alternately words of thanks and 
exclamations of triumph. She was faintly conscious of John speaking softly 
to Lucky. For a moment she almost drifted off to sleep still in that 
vulnerable inviting position, lying on her stomach across the arm-rest so 
her buttocks were still offered up in ripe proliferation for whoever might 
have wanted to take advantage. 

Then she snapped suddenly back to reality as she felt Lucky shaking her 
shoulder. "Wake up kid. Buster's changed his mind." 

 Twelve 

Daria turned her head weakly to look around, a gasp springing to her lips at 
the sight of John standing behind her at the end of the couch, still naked 
from the waist down, his swollen penis looming up in obscenely pulsing 
erection from between the tails of his shirt. His eyes were gleaming with a 
relish of hatred and lust, his teeth gritted, his lips curled back in a 
smile that resembled the snarl of a dog, and the malice on his face was 
almost enough to make her blood run cold in her veins. 

"Oh, no," Daria gasped, shaking her head in feeble protest. "Not now. I 
can't take any more now." 

"Sure you can. There's got to be a little something left for your husband or 
what's the fun in having an orgy in the first place." 

Daria shivered at the cruelty she perceived in his cracked icy voice, and 
she planted her arms on the cushions of the couch to start to lever herself 
up into a standing position. Then suddenly John was upon her from behind, 
reaching down to seize her wrists and pull them behind her back, pinning 
them hard against her lower spine as he used his other hand to shove her 
face down onto the cushion so that with her pelvis resting on the arm of the 
couch her buttocks were thrust high and helplessly in the air. And as he 
moved closer there was nothing she could do but wail and kick her feet. She 
was balanced perfectly on the arm-rest, her wrists crossed helplessly behind 
her, and there was nothing she could do to resist as she felt John's free 
hand reach down to part her quivering buttocks, his finger flicking along 
the bottom of her already ravaged vaginal slit to spread a few droplets of 
mingled vaginal lubricant and cum back across the sensitively tingling 
little membrane and over the tightly puckered little hole of her anus. 

"Oh no!" Daria gasped, still not even imagining what he really had in mind. 
"Don't touch me there, John. It hurts!" she cried as she felt the first hard 
pressure on the clenching little aperture. 

Then she blinked as the tight resistance gave way and his finger suddenly 
slithered straight up into her tightly clasping rectal sheath, burying 
itself all the way to the knuckle as she kicked and squirmed in pain and 
humiliation before him. She groaned as he wiggled it deep inside her rectum, 
then gave out with a hoarse cry when he swiftly withdrew the digit with a 
burning sucking pop. Thinking she'd been spared, she heaved out a sigh of 
relief and momentarily ceased the kicking of her feet and relaxed her 
struggles to free her wrists. Then, before she could grasp what was 
happening, John pulled her legs wide apart and stepped forward between them 
to bend over her from behind, and suddenly his finger was replaced by the 
lust-hardened head of his turgid cock. 

"Oh!" the blonde gasped in astonishment and shock. "What are you doing?" 

She asked the question, and as she felt John reach down between their bodies 
to guide the bulbous cock-head directly up toward the already cruelly 
stretched entrance of her anus it was answered in her mind, and suddenly 
gripped by a terror beyond anything she'd known since her initial 
defloration, she again began to jerk and struggle, waving her bare feet 
uselessly in the air, flailing her head from side to side, pulling with all 
her might to free her hopelessly pinioned wrists. 

"Oh no, John, God noooooooooh!" she wailed in utter disbelief. "Don't do it 
to me there, please, I can't stand it." 

But it was as if he didn't even hear and she was suddenly blinded by the 
white hot stab of pain as John lunged forward to shove his now monstrous 
seeming penis even harder against the slavishly clenching little opening of 
her rectum. The cringing little hole resisted with all its might and he 
grunted a strained, for a moment completely thwarted. Then Daria gasped as 
the resistance gave way and as new tears filled her eyes she felt just the 
head of his cock pop up into the tight elastically clasping opening, working 
its way slowly deeper as he continued to groan and strain behind her, 
plundering relentlessly inward, inch by inch toward the shivering depths of 
her bowels. 

"Aaaaggggghhhhhhhh!" Daria cried out, her shrill scream reverberating 
through the room as the massively stretching cockshaft burrowed relentlessly 
deeper into her heatedly cringing anus. Pain jolted through her body like an 
electric shock and all her struggles were futile as John continued to push 
and ram against her fleeting inner physical resistance until she felt the 
coarse hair of his loins smack hard against the quaking softness of her 
upturned naked ass and at last he was embedded into her to the hilt. 

"Oh God," Daria whimpered, heaving out a sigh of relief and hurt as she 
realized that the worst was over. "Why John? Why did you have to do it to me 
like this?" 

"Because I wanted a hole I wasn't going to fall into," her angry cuckolded 
husband growled from behind, flexing his penis to cause her whole body to 
jerk in a fearful spasm. She had never felt so soiled and degraded in her 
life and the thought of having Lucky watch her submit to this after what 
he'd already seen only made her sorrow that much greater. And John added 
injury to insult as he began to saw rhythmically in and out of her tiny 
burning asshole, grunting and groaning with the strain of it as he sank his 
cock again and again into the unnaturally impaled depths of her rectum. 

"Oh God," Daria cried, sobs of pain and misery falling from her lips as John 
plunged the full length of his penis repeatedly into her fire-seared bowels. 
But she knew there was nothing she could do but accept her punishment and 
hope it would be over as soon as possible, and she forced her body to relax, 
letting her buttocks part easily and her inner muscles stretch and give to 
make room for the skewering instrument burying itself every moment deeper 
and deeper into her lacerated little anus. 

And to her surprise she realized that the agony she'd initially experienced 
was fading. The pain was still there, a terrible burning gnawing presence 
that seemed to exist in the very cosmic center of her being. But she could 
stand it. She was standing it easily now and already she'd already stood 
much worse, and in the hope she could do something to hasten the end of her 
suffering she experimentally tried to flex her ass-cheeks to further 
increase the friction on her husband's twitching penis. Discovering that 
effort increased her own sensation but did at least serve to give her the 
feeling she was at least a participant rather than the completely impassive 
receptacle of his lascivious action, she went a step further and began to 
squirm and roll her buttocks on the arm of the couch, further increasing the 
teasing friction and the maddening pain-pleasure sensations she was 
beginning to derive from the debasing anal penetration. 

Even Daria couldn't believe her lewd response, and she tried to mentally 
justify her masochistic surrender by telling herself that she was responding 
only in the hope of driving John to another of his premature climaxes in the 
hope that her torment would end. She squirmed and jerked, dropping her feet 
down to stand with her tiptoes on the floor and give herself additional 
leverage. She flailed her head from side to side, whipping her long blonde 
hair over the softness of her shoulders. As John released her wrists she 
planted her elbows on the cushion of the couch, further facilitating the 
slavish waggling movements of her ass against the skewering penis plowing 
deeply into her bowels. 

But if John had lost control prematurely the night he'd deflowered her, he 
possessed the control of a yoga mystic now. She thought it must have been 
his anger and resentment and determination to prove himself that gave him 
the strength, and yet she realized that after the way she'd betrayed and 
shamed him these last few days she deserved all the punishment she could 
get. And if a little suffering on her part could give him back his ego and 
masculine pride, who was she to withhold it? After all, he was still her 
husband, and would be until their ill-fated marriage was annulled. 

"Oh yes," Daria gasped out in final masochistic surrender as John used both 
his hands to part her waggling asscheeks and leaned forward as far as he 
could, impaling even deeper into her lust-seared rectal depths. "Yes, fuck 
me, fuck me!" she chanted in building delirium, groaning and jerking as her 
husband buried his cock in her asshole to the hilt and flexed it deeply up 
inside. Then with long smooth strokes he resumed the lewd pistoning into her 
quivering anus, ramming against her with smoothly building lunges that 
racked her body down against the arm of the couch. 

Sweat from his labor spilled from his forehead down onto her lovely writhing 
back and his breath came in sharp deep gasps as she waggled her buttocks 
urgently back against him, taunting her bowel muscles to further increase 
the maddening sensation on his rawly plunging cock. 

By now Daria felt almost no pain, just an exquisite warm wetness on the 
crevice of the cheeks of her ass. She was filled as she had never been 
filled before, but she was enduring it and rising above the suffering she'd 
undergone, and in a sudden compulsion to further increase her own physical 
stimulation she reached back with one of her hands around the side of the 
arm of the couch to stroke up between her thighs from the front and find the 
cringing little bud of her clitoris. She squeezed and rolled it between her 
thumb and forefinger, a series of deep and distant chants pouring from her 
lips as she began a teasing masturbation of her heated and rejuvenated 
loins. At the same time she strained back even more eagerly against the 
burgeoning penis that now seemed to throb to even greater size and hardness, 
stretching the muscles of her mutilated inner anus almost beyond 
recognition. 

"Oh yes, do it to me. Cum in me, John, cum in me!" she cried out in complete 
abandon as she felt him thrust the full length of his cock up into her 
rectum with an even mightier lunge, his body jerking from his own building 
tension as the first hotly squirting droplets of his thick-shooting cum 
began to pour in a wild gushing torrent into the foremost depths of her ass. 
At the same time she felt her own clitoris begin to twitch and spasm as 
suddenly she was overcome by another rousing, completely unexpected feminine 
orgasm. 

Moments later it was over. John withdrew from her ass with a lurid plop, 
stood up dizzily on his feet as Daria slithered exhaustedly across the 
arm-rest to sprawl out in panting response on the cushions of the couch. She 
lay gasping to catch her breath, then rolled over and looked around at the 
other three men alternately watching her in silence and looking curiously at 
each other. 

Oh my God, she thought. What have I done? How did, I ever do that? And yet 
in spite of all her shame and remorse, all her fear that now Lucky would 
hate her as much or even more than her husband, she couldn't deny that it 
had been wonderful. It had all been wonderful, exquisitely wonderful and 
exciting and fulfilling as nothing she had ever known in her life. 

Then, trembling, she sat up naked on the couch, still looking slowly from 
one man to the next, Lucky and Hank again clad in their trousers, John still 
wearing nothing but his shirt. She searched their faces, stony and 
thoughtful as if they did not quite believe what they'd seen. Then, for some 
reason she smiled. "Well, we did it." 

Hank's eyes suddenly beamed. "Boy we did. Just that right there was enough 
to make the whole escape worth it to me, no matter what happens to us 
tomorrow. 

Lucky looked at him suddenly, sharply. Now Daria was staring at him. "Lucky, 
do you hate me now too?" He looked back at her, his brows knitting with 
thought. "Will you still sleep with me tonight, like we planned, in a bed?" 

He shook his head slowly and Daria almost collapsed with the lashing hurt 
before he walked swiftly forward, lifted her up and held her naked body 
tightly in his arms, kissing her hungrily and passionately on the lips. Then 
he released her and turned around. "We're going to Mexico. Now." 

 Thirteen 

Daria drove, with Hank beside her in the front seat. John, hands bound 
behind his back though Lucky had been generous enough to let him have his 
trousers back, rode with the other con in the back. Hank had the revolver 
and Lucky carried the loaded shotgun across his lap. 

They streaked south toward Yuma through the desert night. Once they met a 
state highway patrol car. They passed it without event. Daria felt chills 
run down her spine as Lucky lay his hand on her shoulder and squeezed with a 
tender affection. 

"Will you take me to Mexico, Lucky?" she asked him once, hours later. 

"No. Too dangerous. I'll meet you some place, later. Leave me an address and 
I'll write." 

"Oh, by that time," Daria said without malice or even real hurt, "you'll be 
surrounded by Mexican girls. You won't need me." 

"I'll need you," Hank said, laying his hand on her thigh. "Baby, that was 
the greatest I ever had in my life." 

Daria smiled. "And I bet that was the biggest one I'll ever have." 

In the back seat John coughed self-consciously. They drove a few moments in 
silence. Then he asked: "What about my car?" 

"Don't need it. Can't get across the border. We'll have to get out south of 
Yuma and climb the fence. But thanks for the clothes. And thanks to old 
Major Engels or English or whatever the hell his name was, for the house and 
food and booze." He paused. "Tell you what I do need, though. Need money. 
How you fixed Buster?" 

"I've got ... uh ... it's all ... uh ... travelers checks." 

"Yeah, I bet," Lucky said. "Come on, give me your wallet." 

"I can't reach it. My hands are tied, remember." 

"John," Daria said from the front. "Give him your wallet. Don't be so 
stingy." 

"My goddamn hands are tied!" 

Lucky reached into John's back pocket and extracted the wallet and looked 
through it. "We might be able to use the travelers checks. I'll leave you a 
fifty to get home on. You can always get this back. And the cash." Daria 
listened to him count out two hundred and ninety dollars in cash. "You can 
keep what pocket change you got," he added to her sulking husband. 

Through the night they rolled toward the south. On the western horizon the 
first gray light of dawn was streaked with red, like diluted, running blood. 
"Goddamn!" Lucky said, watching the changing colors of the incipient dawn. 
"Thought we could make it before morning and go over in the dark." 

"You told me to stay under the limit," Daria said. 

"Yeah. Stay under the limit." 

"We're going to need gas," she said. "It's reading empty. We'll just make 
Yuma." 

"The border's another twenty or thirty miles. Stop at a station. Can't 
chance going empty." 

The light was still gray as they pulled into Yuma, passed the luxury motels, 
along the wide boulevards where the signs directing tourists to the old 
territorial prison reflected with grim irony upon their own situation. 
"Maybe we ought to stop and visit it," John offered. "You could hide out 
till night. They'll never come looking for you there." 

"All right Buster. I know you oughtta be on television but me I never watch 
the stuff. There's a station. Pull in." 

Daria pulled into the service station, just opened, and a sleepy attendant 
came to serve them. Lucky ordered two dollars worth of gas. Up the road she 
watched the creeping white Ford with the red light on the roof. Lucky's hand 
touched her shoulder and tensed as it pulled into the station and stopped at 
one of the pumps ahead of them. 

"Keep cool," Lucky said, positioning the shotgun so he could use it fast if 
he had to. The attendant abandoned them and went to check on the state 
troopers. 

They waited, the silence so tense it could have dulled a sharp knife. Daria 
managed a smile at one of the highway patrolmen who'd gotten out and looked, 
with any man's normal interest, at her. The attendant finished gashing the 
patrol car. The trooper paid and got back in and started the engine. Daria 
heard the back door open and looked around in time to see John sprawling out 
on the ground. 

From that minute on it happened almost too fast. She saw John getting up, 
saw Hank aiming the pistol, heard Lucky: 

"Don't shoot him. And Babe, you hit it!" 

For a moment she was too stunned to move. Then she started the engine and, 
tires squealing, rolled forward past the gawking policemen. In the rear view 
mirror she saw John stumbling toward their car. She swerved, tires 
screaming, onto the street, through the red light as the patrol car whirled 
around before the station and started after them. She heard the sputter, 
felt the engine miss. It caught, missed again. 

"Damn it!" Lucky gasped in the back. "That stupid bastard. I shouldda let 
Hank blast him." 

"We're out of gas!" she cried. 

"I know we're out of gas! Pull over!" 

She pulled to the curb and watched the patrol car streaking toward them in 
the mirror. "Lucky, oh God I love you Lucky." 

The engine gave out. They were coasting. She squealed to a halt and before 
she'd even stopped Lucky was out the door, rolling on the ground. She heard 
the shotgun blast and saw the tire explode, the car swerving up onto the 
curb and into the storefront window of the Western Auto. Lucky, running low 
and crouched, came by like a streak. She started to open the door and Hank 
caught her arm, holding her back, looking at her with sad, grim resignation. 

"Don't go out there," he said. 

She thought she understood even before she looked back and saw the trooper 
in his Stetson standing beside the car, aiming with what looked like a deer 
rifle. She screamed as she heard the discharge. Looking the other way she 
saw Lucky's body contort. She saw it contort again, as if he'd been hit by 
something twice his size and weight traveling at supersonic speed, and heard 
the second discharge an instant later. The third knocked him to the ground. 

She sat dazed, shaking. Hank got carefully from the car, his arms in the 
air. She saw the pistol lying in the seat beside her. Lucky lay in a heap on 
the street fifty yards ahead. She felt numbed, finished with life and 
feeling. 

The patrolmen came up to Hank, guns trained on him, searched and handcuffed 
him. Through the window she heard him say, "The girl's on your side. My 
gun's in the floorboard. I had it on her all the way." 

She got out of the car and held up her hands. One of the patrolmen came 
around, looked at her and frisked her and told her she could put her hands 
down. 

"You murdered him," she said dully. "Why did you murder him? He was running. 
I'll tell them. I saw it, cold blood." 

The cop laughed softly. "Cold blood, Miss? You know who that was?"' 

"I knew him," she said. "I knew him better than anyone." 

"Luke McClain. We haven't had a gunman like him in this state since Wyatt 
Earp was sheriff of Tombstone. Seven convictions, Miss. Murder in the first 
degree." 

"Who'd he kill? He was kind." 

"He killed police, men like myself. Killed two more of them just last week 
when he escaped. If it weren't for those goddamn commy legislators in the 
supreme court those last two boys'd still be alive." 

"But he was good," Daria said, walking slowly toward the distant fallen, 
bullet-torn body. 

 EPILOGUE 

Daria Harper was convicted of aiding and abetting a fugitive of the law and 
given two years probation. Defense pleaded leniency, portraying her to the 
judge as an innocent who because of her naivete had been taken in by and 
used by arch villain "Lucky" Luke McClain. She demonstrated this naivete by 
protesting that Lucky was never a villain, that he was a kind and gentle man 
who had been pushed too far, that she still loved him and that she regretted 
nothing of what she had done. The Judge was convinced and took her naivete 
into consideration when determining sentence. 

Hank Daily was returned to State Penitentiary to continue his sentence, with 
virtually all hope of an early release abandoned. For his escape he spent 
thirty days in solitary. He was acquitted on two counts of first degree 
murder, plead guilty to kidnap and was given an additional ten year sentence 
to run concurrently with his present sentence for armed robbery. 

John Harper had no trouble obtaining an annulment of his marriage. 

Lucky McClain was buried at state expense. He'd died at thirty, having spent 
five years of his life in reformatory and six in adult prisons. The seven 
policemen he had been convicted of murdering had been killed during a 
previous escape and flight across the state. Originally he'd been sentenced 
to death. Legislation had later commuted that sentence to life imprisonment. 


The End
