Anne finally reached her breaking point in the middle of a long pause after a very light stroke. She opened her mouth wide and kept it like that, making a pleading “Ah…ah…” noise. Sinister held up his free hand and the whip-handler checked himself in mid-swing.
Interesting, Kimberley thought. Out of sheer desperation, Anne was doing the only thing she could think of to stop them from flogging her tender ass anymore, begging to be allowed to do what they’d intended to make her do in the first place.
Sinister unbuckled and lowered his pants one-handed, keeping his grip on Anne’s hair. Anne leaned forward, her mouth still held open and her tongue reaching out for his cock before he was quite ready. Anne seemed eager…or desperate. Sinister let her take the head of his cock in her mouth. Then he pushed himself in deeper while using his hold on her hair to pull her forward until she began to choke and struggle. He let her pull back. He wasn’t fully erect yet and his cock slipped out of her mouth. Coughing and gasping, Anne immediately took him back in and the scene repeated.
It struck Kimberley that Anne wasn’t really very practiced at this. Her movements were jerky and awkward, and she was beginning to drool a lot. It didn’t seem to matter to Sinister. In fact, any time Anne seemed to settle down to a rhythm, rocking back and forth as she sucked his cock, he would thrust himself forward and pull her head closer until she choked and gagged again and had to pull away for air. And every time, after she’d barely gotten one good, deep breath, her mouth immediately sought out his cock again. Kimberley hugged herself and shivered. She was growing more and more aroused as she watched this. Even an unskilled woman ought to be able to make a man come without too much trouble, but it was apparent to her that Sinister was dragging things out by his actions. Would Anne eventually decide that more flogging was preferable to near-suffocation?
Grunting and whining, Anne began sucking faster, her head bobbing. Her eyes were shut tight and it seemed as if she was concentrating on nothing else in the world except for the cock in her mouth. Saliva dribbled down her chin and dripped in long strings to the straw below. Well, it probably wasn’t
just
saliva now, Kimberley thought. Sinister hadn’t come yet, but she knew from her own experience that a cock began leaking its own sticky, salty precum well before that happened.
The whip-handler brought the little cat-o’-nine-tails down across Anne’s rump again. She straightened up with a muffled squeal just as Sinister pulled her head forward again. He held her there for what seemed to be a very long time while Anne squirmed and grunted and choked. When he finally let go, Anne sagged back, choking, gasping and spluttering…but Sinister STILL hadn’t come. Anne made no resistance when he pulled her back towards him. She seemed more anxious than ever to suck, suck, suck. Another light stroke from the whip made her redouble her efforts. Anne’s ordeal went on…and on. Kimberley realized that she was salivating pretty heavily herself. She swallowed, just as Sinister came with a loud groan. He pulled Anne’s head close to him again and held her there, ignoring the plaintive, desperate noises Anne was making as well as her weak struggles. The whip-handler gave her ass another stinging stroke.
Finally, Sinister let Anne pull her head back. She coughed and spluttered, a mix of Sinister’s come and her own saliva spraying and dribbling from her mouth as she gasped for air. She looked completely worn out and probably would have fallen over onto her side in the straw if Sinister hadn’t kept her upright with his tight, painful grip on her hair.
Sinister took his cock in his free hand and wiped it across Anne’s cheeks. He looked over towards Greg. “You,” he said. “You’re next. C’mere.”
Anne groaned despairingly as Greg stood in front of her and took a fistful of her hair after Sinister let go. She looked up at Greg pleadingly even as she opened her mouth for him.
Chapter Eleven
Anne lay on her side in the straw, coughing, shaking and whimpering, her back to Kimberley and Evelyn. The men had finished with her only a few minutes ago. Before they left, they’d cut the rope that ran from her bound wrists to her neck, but then they’d hogtied her. She looked to be a picture of misery.
Kimberley felt the need to lean against something solid. There was a nice massive post rising up from the floor that served pretty well for the moment. She also felt a need to get one of those crooked little black cigars out of her pack and light it up, but it didn’t seem to be a good idea to do that inside a wooden building full of hay and straw, no matter how much she wanted it.
She had never seen anything quite like it. Anne had been made to suck each man’s cock in turn, trying desperately to please them even as they made doing that so very, very difficult for her. By the time the fourth man—the one who had whipped her—was done, she was a mess. Semen mixed with her own saliva dripped from her chin, onto her breasts, belly and thighs. A lot of it had gotten into her hair. Anne didn’t seem to notice, or care. The minute whip-handler had let go of her hair she’d fallen over onto her side and just laid there. She hadn’t struggled or complained when they hogtied her. Her ass was striped in varying shades of red. Kimberley could see a number of welts.
Evelyn looked at her watch. “She still has a little over half an hour to go,” she commented.
“What?” Kimberley couldn’t believe it. Even though she’d just been watching the episode, it felt like it had gone on for way more than an hour. “So…the men will be back?”
“Oh, I fully expect so.” Evelyn nodded. “They’ll probably hit the saloon for a drink or two first, though. They need to recharge a little.”
Kimberley looked at Anne, then back at Evelyn. “You’re kidding.”
“Elf-Girl,” Evelyn raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch, “I am NOT kidding.”
“But…she can’t take any more…” Kimberley pointed at Anne’s motionless form.
Evelyn regarded her watch again. “She’ll have to. The hour isn’t up and believe me, if I thought she was in any real danger, I would stop everything. In the meantime, I believe you were trying to ask me something earlier.”
“Uh…yes, I was. I’m trying to shake my stalker. I pointed him out to you.”
Evelyn smiled. “If you don’t want to be caught, why are you even out here?”
Kimberley sighed. “It’s a little complicated, and I don’t think I have all that much time to explain. Let me just say that I fully expect to be caught, eventually, but I don’t want to make it too easy for anybody.”
“All right.” Evelyn seemed to accept that. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“I…need to get out of here,” Kimberley said. “I need to put some room between me and Gre…my stalker. I don’t know if you can help, if you’re allowed to help, but…”
“You were required to observe, Elf-Girl. And I am afraid I am not permitted to help under these circumstances. I am a proctor, not an enabler.”
“I know! And I did observe…all of it…so far…” She looked back at Anne, lying very still in the stall. “I actually feel kind of sorry for her now.” She sighed. Okay, now she’d have to think of some other way to shake Greg.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Evelyn asked quietly.
“What?” Kimberley thought that her ears had deceived her.
“I’m sure that you do,” Evelyn went on in the same low tone. “If you don’t want to run the gauntlet of any men still lounging about the main street, there is a small door back here that you could use. You see it? Just over there? You could get to the saloon and back without being seen quite easily.”
It took Kimberley a moment to realize just what Evelyn was telling her. “Ohhh!” she smiled at last. “Yes, I do need to go. Very much. Thank you!” She picked up her pack and started for the door.
Evelyn cleared her throat. That eyebrow was raised again. Kimberley stopped.
“What now?”
Evelyn nodded at the pack. “If you take that with you, Elf-Girl, I’ll have to wonder if you were telling me the truth about having to use the bathroom after all. More to the point, your stalker is not likely to believe it either.”
Kimberley looked at her pack, back at Evelyn, back at the pack. Dammit!
“You’re right,” she sighed, putting it back down. She unhooked her canteen. “I might as well fill this while I’m at it,” she said innocently, holding it up.
“I suppose you should,” Evelyn nodded in solemn agreement.
Kimberley unzipped the pack and took out the foil package that held four of those crooked little cigars. “I may need to smoke…to settle my nerves…before I come back.” She looked at Evelyn questioningly.
“Perfectly reasonable.” Evelyn nodded. “You have matches?”
“Yep.” Kimberley patted the small pocket sewn into the arm of her shirt. There was a small waterproof metal container there, holding a number of wooden matches.
“Well, then,” Evelyn shrugged. “I suppose I’ll see you in a little while.” She smiled wryly. “Not making it too easy can cut both ways, Elf-Girl.”
Kimberley managed a rueful laugh. “So I’m learning.” She slipped out the small back door with a good-bye nod to Evelyn and quietly closed the door behind her.
She took a quick look around to make sure that she was unobserved and then jogged away into the surrounding forest. To hell with stealth for now. She had, at the extreme outside, just thirty minutes to put some distance between her and Greg…and anybody else who might be looking for her. If she went at a slow and careful pace, she might cover all of eight hundred yards, which was not nearly enough. By jogging, she should cover at least two miles easily. She took a quick glance at her cheap wristwatch, making note of the time. In half an hour, she would stop to rest, fire up one of those little cigars, and think about what to do next.
She hated having to leave her pack behind, but Evelyn had been right. Anyway, when she got to another one of those mini-towns she could re-equip herself. In the meantime, besides her canteen, she still had her map, her compass and her trusty survival knife. She smiled and patted the hilt as she trotted along. Elf-Girl could survive for a while this way. Sure she could. She wouldn’t like it much, though.
Jogging required only physical effort. She had plenty of time to think and a lot to think about. What was the deal with Anne, for starters. All right, so she’d pushed Anne’s buttons pretty hard, but her intention had been to draw attention away from Anne and Jessie and focus it on herself, all to further the legend of Elf-Girl. Anne’s initial reaction had been about what she’d expected…but then Anne had gone completely overboard. Even if her guess was correct that Jessie didn’t care for men while Anne did, it didn’t explain what Anne had just done…and would be made to do when the men came back for her. Kimberley doubted that Anne had been expecting anything so rough and brutal. She’d probably only seen the female captives, bound or in their cages. No doubt she and Jessie had found it all very titillating, something to help get the juices flowing later when they were safely back at the hotel. Now…well, it would be interesting to see how it all played out when they did get back to the hotel, but Kimberley was getting very used to seeing only the middle parts of all the stories here. It was a lot like repeatedly walking into movies thirty minutes after they had started and leaving them thirty minutes before they ended. You could make guesses about what had gone on before and more guesses as to how it turned out, but in the end, you could never be sure.
She jogged steadily up a long, low rise and down the other side. There wasn’t a lot of underbrush in this area and she was making good time. She looked at her watch again. Twenty minutes to go. Her breathing was deep and regular. She felt as if she could keep up this pace all day.
She thought of Greg. The look on his face when she’d hugged his arm had been priceless, surprise, anticipation and dark suspicion all mixed together. He had made no move at all to touch her himself. She wasn’t sure why. It was probably one of those rules. Did the men who came here have to attend classes so that they learned all of the rules? Were there textbooks and exams? Did they get grades or was it pass/fail? And while she was on that track, why was it that most of the men she’d seen here seemed to be between thirty and fifty? She’d seen some men older than that…Mr. Brown came to mind…but none younger. She didn’t mind that. She preferred older men. But she did wonder.
With an effort, she steered her mind back to Greg. Originally, she’d just hoped that by throwing him at Anne she could somehow divert his attention long enough for her to slip away. She hadn’t been able to escape the watchful eye of Evelyn, but when it had been Greg’s turn with Anne she’d had a powerful urge to stay and watch anyway…just to see, she told herself.
Greg had done almost exactly what Sinister had done before him, his whole attention focused on poor Anne. Once he’d started, Kimberley might as well have been in another time zone for all the notice he gave her, and she’d found that irritating. Okay, the way Anne had been kneeling in the stall meant that he had to stand with his back to Evelyn and Kimberley, but still…
He did have a rather nice ass, though…
But even when she’d moved so she could watch Greg and Anne in profile, Greg still had ignored her completely. You’d think that after chasing her for all this time he’d at least have glanced in her direction no matter how desperately Anne had been sucking his cock. Men!
But he did have a rather impressive cock. It was long, but not exceptionally so, and while it wasn’t as massive as Bull’s had appeared to be, it still looked as thick as her own wrist. Anne had certainly had to struggle with it.
Kimberley’s stride faltered. She stopped, shook her head to empty it of all those images that were beginning to really distract her now, took a deep breath and went back to jogging. She was sure that Greg would be on her trail very soon, if he wasn’t on it already. She needed to keep moving.
Almost exactly thirty minutes after she’d left the barn, she came across the perfect place to stop and rest. It was the first real hill she’d seen since she’d arrived here. It was littered with boulders of all sizes, which would explain why the few trees growing on it all looked so undersized. On top of the hill, she could find good cover and still see or hear anyone trying to sneak up on her. She found a good spot, settled down and lit up one of those little cigars. She was still breathing a little heavily, and since the day had turned warmer, sweating a bit as well. She shook her canteen. It felt and sounded only about half full. Leaning back against a big gray boulder, she tried to relax and think about what to do next. She pulled out the map from her shirt pocket and opened it for a look.