|© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: M/f; outdoors; naked; bond; rope; piercing; torment; bdsm; stuck; reluct; XX||
|The Rat Jo M/f; outdoors; naked; bond; rope; piercing; torment; bdsm; stuck; reluct; XX|
Mandy glanced at the dash. 108 miles per hour. She clenched her fists in her lap. Eddie reached the metal travel cup from its holder, took a gulp, then another. He handed the cup to Mandy. She didn't drink vodka and certainly not at nine in the morning, but she took a sip. When Eddie wanted you to do something you did it.
Not that Eddie treated her badly. She was his girl, number two in the pecking order at the club. Number one was Jessica, Paul's girl. She and Jess were allowed to keep half their tips. The other girls pooled theirs and split them equally ... after the brothers pulled out the tax money and a bit for themselves of course. Life with Eddie was pretty good. Though, truth be told, he had a dark side. Mandy had never witnessed anything, but her intuition told her that nobody fucked with Eddie Lipkin. If you'd told her that as a boy he liked to pull the wings off flies, well, it wouldn't surprise her.
But life wasn't bad. She gave him his morning blow job and a bedtime fuck, sometimes a quickie during the day. But after that he left her pretty much alone to do as she pleased. The only annoying thing was her stage name. He called her Chesty. Why not just hang a sign on her forty inch rack with two arrows that said TITS?
The car came up over a rise, hit the bump at the crown of the bridge and went briefly airborne. A moment later the tires made contact and Eddie hit the brakes, ran the shifter down through the gears, spun the wheel, pulling a U in the middle of the road.
They rolled back toward the river.
Eddie had this thing for fishing, couldn't pass a puddle without wanting to "wet a line" as he called it. He pulled off on to the dirt track, moving slowly over the uneven hardpack. The track followed the river for a couple of hundred yards, then veered right. They bumped their way for a bit until the river was lost behind some low hills. The car bottomed out, did it again.
Mandy turned to him.
"Where are we going? The river's back that way."
"Yeah, no shit. Can't back up, too far in, gotta find a place to turn around."
But there was none, not for a couple of miles. They were in a gully, a track worn deep by countless vehicles in the past. Finally they came around a rock outcropping and were faced with a bowl of sorts, a semicircle carved in pale stone. There were three buildings, two looked fairly solid, the third nearly collapsed. There was equipment there also. Huge shapes of rusted metal.
"Well, son of a bitch."
Eddie guided the car into the clearing, sat glancing around for a few minutes, then turned to Mandy and grinned.
He opened his door open and walked to the back of the car, popped the trunk. Mandy watched him fish through the tiny trunk, produce a coil of rope.
Mandy just blinked at him.
"Do it, Babe. Get naked."
While he had never mistreated her, "Babe" was her cue that this wasn't a polite request. She stripped. Eddie reached out, hefted her left tit, pinched her nipple until Mandy winced. Eddie tossed her clothes in the trunk, slammed the lid.
"I know you get bored watching me fish. Let's see if I can't come up with something a bit more entertaining. Come on."
He took her by the arm, led her to the machinery, stood her in front of a wheel, a gear actually. A huge, rusted, spoked thing. He pushed Mandy back against it. It was warm on her butt.
Eddie shook out the coil of rope, grabbed her right wrist, pulled out and up, tied it to a spoke. He flipped open his knife, cut the line. He repeated the process with her left wrist. He spread her legs - wide. Eddie tied her ankles. He groped her, squeezing Mandy's tits, hefting them, slapping them gently.
"I'm gonna poke around a bit. Don't go anywhere." He winked at her.
She watched him disappear into one of the buildings, heard him rummaging around. He appeared and disappeared several times moving about the compound. Finally he appeared with a sack, walked past her, popped the trunk, and bent inside. A few minutes later he came over to her.
"Was gonna see if I couldn't find something interesting to distract you, maybe find something to fill that needy little cunt of yours." He held up the sack. "But I came up with plan B."
So saying he set the bundle on the ground, placed his foot on it, squatted. He parted Mandy's pussy lips, lifted and spread her clit hood. She saw the fish hook in his hand an instant before he pressed it into the base of her clit. Mandy shrieked. He pushed it until it emerged from the other side. Mandy shrieked again.
"Oh God! Eddie! What he fuck! What the fuck, Eddie!"
Eddie held up the sack.
"Don't want you gettin' lonely, so I brought you some company."
So saying, he upended the sack and a large, black rat tumbled to the ground. The three, two humans and the rodent, stood still for a long moment, then the rat lunged, only to be drawn up short. Mandy shrieked again.
Eddie laughed. He took a step back, a stupid grin plastered to his face. He watched the rat lunge this way and that, kind of enjoyed the look on the girl's face, her screams turned to pained gasps, tears left mascara tracks down her face.
"I'm gonna go wet a line for a while, then make a beer run. Don't go anywhere."
If Mandy heard him, she gave no indication, lost in her own private little hell.
The sun made its inevitable arc through the sky. The heat rose, baking hot, poured into the dark, metal wheel. Sweat poured off Mandy as she struggled, frantic, but the ropes held.
And then, she realized the rat had stopped. She looked down and there he was, tucked in a shadow by her left foot. But Mandy found no relief. She baked, stretched, bound, naked, helpless in the burning sun.
The sergeant thumbed the tab, rolled down the window of his cruiser. No point of getting out in this heat, he thought. The patrolman walked up.
"What have we got?"
"Driver says he crested the hill and a little, yellow sports car shot out. Whether the guy lost control of the car or not, he couldn't tell, but the trucker says it got sideways in front of him. He didn't even have time to brake before impact. Says the car got up in the air, came down and rolled a half dozen times.
"How fast was he going?"
"The trucker? Guy says 70. But looking at the marks, I'd put it closer to 90."
"70 or 90 miles an hour won't make much difference. Loaded semi meets little plastic sports car. You know how that's going to turn out."
"Okay, I'll escort the guy back to town, get his statement. You hang out for a while until things are cleaned up. Do a bit of traffic control. Not that there's any traffic to speak of, but this is a blind spot."
"Sure. Oh! Wait a sec. I checked the marks and the victim came out of that dirt track back by the bridge. What the hell was he doing back there?"
"No clue. The track leads to the old silver mine, been abandoned for about a hundred years. Every once in a while kids'll get in there. Had a cave-in a while back. Had to go dig one of 'em out."
"Should I go check it?"
"Can't hurt. But wait until this mess is cleaned up first. Shouldn't take too long, maybe an hour. Here comes the wrecker now."
The patrolman started to walk away.
"Listen, don't take the cruiser back there. You get so much as a scratch on it and the chief will have your ass. When you're finished here, come back to the station and fetch a Jeep."
"Sun's going down."
"Yeah, you're right. Whatever's back there can wait until tomorrow. Probably nothing anyway."
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